J.  F.  When do we begin wheat harvest?

3rd Neighbour.  Next Thursday in the ten-acre; the crop is heavy and the weather looks quite settled; so we shall have a jolly time of it.

J.  F.  Well, I’m glad I know in good time; for I never like to miss seeing the first row of reapers going into the corn.  Is there anything else?

W.  J.  Well, there’s one troublesome business, chairman (looks at C. N., who trembles and moans).  There’s that dog we caught, that thief, that useless beast.  What is to be done with him?

C.  N. (Aside, That’s me! that’s me!  To think that a justice should be spoken of in such language!  What am I to do?  What am I to do?)

2nd Neighbour.  Well, chairman, I think we must shoot him.  Once a thief always a thief, you see, with that kind of brute.  I’m sorry, because he has been so badly brought up; and though he is an ugly dog, he is big and burly; but I must say that I think it must be done, and as soon as possible.  He’ll be after the girls if we don’t do it at once!

C.  N. (Aside:  What! have they got hold of that story, then?)

J.  F.  Well, neighbours, what’s to be said? anybody against it?  Is this unpleasant business agreed to?

All.  Agreed, agreed.

J.  F.  Well, then, let the dog be shot.  Bill, it’s your turn for an ugly job this time:  you must do it.

W.  J.  Well, if it must be, it must.  I’ll go and get a gun in a minute.

C.  N.  Oh, God! to think of their disposing of a fellow-man’s life with so little ceremony!  And probably they will go and eat their dinners afterwards and think nothing of it. (Throwing himself on his knees before JACK FREEMAN.) Oh, your Socialist worship!  Oh, citizen my lord! spare me, spare me!  Send me to prison, load me with chains, but spare my life!

J.  F.  Why, what ails the man?  Chains! we don’t use chains for that sort of thing.  They’re good to fasten up boats with, and for carts, and such like; so why should we waste them by ornamenting you with them?  And as to prison, we can’t send you to prison, because we haven’t got one.  How could we have one? who would be the jailer?  No, no; we can’t be bothered with you in prison.  You must learn to behave decently.

C.  N.  What! have you no punishment but death, then?  O! what am I to do? what am I to do?

1st Neighbour.  Do?  Why, behave decently.

C.  N.  But how can I behave decently when I’m dead? (Moans.)

2nd Neighbour.  But, neighbour, you must die some time or another, you know.  Make the most of your time while you are alive.

C.  N.  Have you the heart to say such things to a man whom you are going to shoot in a few minutes?  How horrible!  Oh, look here! if you haven’t got a prison, build one for me! or make one out of a cellar, and lock me up in it; but don’t shoot me—­don’t!