TRUSTAFORD. 'Ow's that, Mr. Godleigh? I'm not particular eggzac'ly
to a dilly zort of a point like that.

SOL POTTER. [Scratching his, head] 'Tes a very nice point, for
zure.

GODLEIGH. 'Tes undoubtedly for the chairman to decide.

[Voice from the dumb-as fishes: "But there ain't no chairman
yet."]

JARLAND. Sol Potter's chairman.

FREMAN. No, 'e ain't.

MORSE. Yes, 'e is--'e's chairman till this second old meetin' gets
on the go.

FREMAN. I deny that. What du yu say, Mr. Trustaford?

TRUSTAFORD. I can't 'ardly tell. It du zeem a darned long-sufferin'
sort of a business altogether.

[A silence.]

MORSE. [Slowly] Tell 'ee what 'tis, us shan't du no gude like this.

GODLEIGH. 'Tes for Mr. Freman or Mr. Trustaford, one or t'other to
withdraw their motions.