Masters in the morning
Furiously rage,
Cursing the inventions
Of this knowing age;
Order out the bloodhounds,
Swear they'll bring them back,
Dogs return exhausted,
Cannot find the track.
Chorus.—No one hears the whistle, &c. Travel is increasing, Build a double track, Cars and engines wanted, They'll come, we have no lack. Clear the track of loafers, See that crowded car! Thousands passing yearly, Stock is more than par. Chorus.—No one hears the whistle, &c.
Jones. Well done! That's a good song. I'd like to have a copy of them verses. [Knock at the door. Charlotte goes to the door, and returns.
Enter Cato, L., still in disguise.
Mr. Neal. Who is this we have? Another of the outcasts, I presume?
Cato. Yes, seer; I is gwine to Canada, an' I met a man, an' he tole me dat you would give me some wittuls an' help me on de way. By golly! ef dar ain't Glen an' Melinda. Dey don't know me in dese fine clothes. [Goes up to them.] Ah, chillen! I is one wid you. I golly, I is here too! [They shake hands.]
Glen. Why, it is Cato, as I live!
Melinda. Oh, Cato, I am so glad to see you! But how did you get here?
Cato. Ah, chile, I come wid ole massa to hunt you; an' you see I get tired huntin' you, an' I am now huntin' for Canada. I leff de ole boss in de bed at de hotel; an' you see I thought, afore I left massa, I'd jess change clothes wid him; so, you see, I is fixed up,—ha, ha, ha. Ah, chillen! I is gwine wid you.
Mrs. Neal. Come, sit thee down, and have some breakfast.
Cato. Tank you, madam, I'll do dat. [Sits down and eats.
