_March._ You’ll find out: quick, run for it!
_Grap._ What for I run for it? Oh, sacre! I see ze old woman wiz ze broom, and I comprend, I comprend! (_Darts out door, C. Enter MRS. GALE, with broom, L._)
_Mrs. Gale._ Where is he? where is he? (_Darts out door, C._)
_Kitty._ Hide the old gentleman’s pack, March, quick! Mother will pitch it into the water. (_March carries it off, L., as MRS. GALE enters._)
_Mrs. Gale._ The idea of a peddler! I’ve had enough on ’em; but they won’t cheat me again in a hurry, I can tell ’em. (_Exit, L._)
_Kitty._ What a blind, silly goose March Gale is!--fighting Bige Parker, and going to fight the Captain, because I encourage their attentions, and can’t see that it’s all to make him speak. So jealous of everybody! If he loves me, why don’t he tell me so? (_Enter Capt., C._)
_Capt._ Ah, ha, my little beauty! you see I have returned.
_Kitty._ Like a dear, charming Captain, as you are.
_Kitty._ Oh! you needn’t be afraid of him: he’s gone.
_Capt._ Gone, has he? and left the coast clear? What a chawming opportunity!
_Capt._ To tell you, divine cweecher, how I love you.
_Kitty._ You’ve told me that a hundred times.
_Capt._ Let me tell you a hundred times more. (_Sees Grapeau’s coat._) Hold! what’s that?
_Capt._ Mine? what an howid idea! The idea of my wearing such a coat as that! (_Slips it on._) And such a hat! good gracious! (_Puts on hat._) Don’t I look queer!
_Kitty._ Oh, my! what a queer-looking chap you are! You wouldn’t feel much like making love in that suit,--would you, Captain?
_Capt._ Make love to you, my chawmer! Yes, in any dress.
_Kitty._ Oh, capital! It would be so jolly to have a lover on his knees at my feet, dressed as you are!
_Kitty._ Yes, on your knees. (_Aside._) Don’t I wish March could catch him there! Down on your knees! Quick, or I’ll run off!
_Capt._ (_L._) Well, then, here I am. (_Kneels._) What a howid idea! (_Enter Mrs. Gale, with broom._)
_Mrs. Gale._ That horrid old peddler here again?
_Capt._ Beautiful nymph of the sparkling sea!
_Mrs. Gale._ I declare, he’s sparking our Kitty!
_Capt._ Captivating cweecher! I do love you,--’pon my honor, I do! Your beauty charms me! your bewitching manner stwikes--stwikes--stwikes--st--
_Mrs. Gale._ (_Rushes at him, knocks his hat over his eyes with broom._) I’ll strike you, you tarnal varmint! Get out of my house I say!