SOL POTTER. [Wiping his brow] Du seem to me, gentlemen, seem' as
we'm got into a bit of a tangle in a manner of spakin', 'twid be the
most zimplest and vairest way to begin all over vrom the beginnin',
so's t'ave it all vair an' square for every one.

[In the uproar Of "Aye" and "No," it is noticed that TIBBY
JARLAND is standing in front of her father with her finger, for
want of something better, in her mouth.]

TIBBY. [In her stolid voice] Please, sister Mercy says, curate 'ave
got to "Lastly." [JARLAND picks her up, and there is silence.] An'
please to come quick.

JARLAND. Come on, mates; quietly now!

[He goes out, and all begin to follow him.]

MORSE. [Slowest, save for SOL POTTER] 'Tes rare lucky us was all
agreed to hiss the curate afore us began the botherin' old meetin',
or us widn' 'ardly 'ave 'ad time to settle what to du.

SOL POTTER. [Scratching his head] Aye, 'tes rare lucky; but I dunno
if 'tes altogether reg'lar.


CURTAIN.