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Well, what is the matter now?

Make hate, and get a bed ready for this good woman.

A bed for this good woman! ha, ha, ha! She lept lat night in that pent-houe; o he may to-night.

You are an infamous—[goes back to his mother] Oh! my poor mother—[runs to the Cottage at a little ditance, and knocks]. Ha! halloo! Who is there?

Good day, young oldier.—What is it you want?

Good friend, look at that poor woman. She is perihing in the public road! It is my mother.—Will you give her a mall corner in your hut? I beg for mercy’s ake—Heaven will reward you.

Can’t you peak quietly? I underland you very well. [Calls at the door of the hut] Wife, hake up our bed—here’s a poor ick woman wants it. [Enter ]. Why could not you ay all this in fewer words? Why uch a long preamble? Why for mercy’s ake, and heaven’s reward? Why talk about reward for uch trifles as thee? Come, let us lead her in; and welcome he hall be to a bed, as good as I can give her; and to our homely fare.