The old sermon. Your
husband is recommending me to get married. 'Never saw such a
one-ideaed man.
MRS. G. Well, why don't you? I dare say you would make some
woman very happy.
CAPT. G. There's the Law and the Prophets, Jack. Never mind the
Regiment. Make a woman happy. (Aside.) O Lord!
CAPT. M. We'll see. I must be off to make a Troop Cook
desperately unhappy. I won't have the wily Hussar fed on
Government Bullock Train shinbones- (Hastily.) Surely black ants
can't be good for The Brigadier. He's picking em off the matting
and eating 'em. Here, Senor Comandante Don Grubbynuse, come
and talk to me. (Lifts G. JUNIOR in his arms.) 'Want my watch?
You won't be able to put it into your mouth, but you can try. (G.
JUNIOR drops watch, breaking dial and hands.)
MRS. G. Oh, Captain Mafflin, I am so sorry! Jack, you bad, bad
little villain. Ahhh!
CAPT. M. It's not the least consequence, I assure you. He'd treat
the world in the same way if he could get it into his hands.
Everything's made to be played, with and broken, isn't it, young
'un?
* * * * * *
MRS. G. Mafflin didn't at all like his watch being broken, though
he was too polite to say so.
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