SCHMIDT. I've walked von thirty-five mile this day, and I want von place to sleep down on. TEDDY. One place to sleep? SCHMIDT. Yaw. Who keeps this hotel? TEDDY. My mistress, sar--Mrs. Barrisnobe. SCHMIDT. Then call that old basket up. TEDDY. She is neither old nor a basket, sar. SCHMIDT. Yaw! Vell, basket or no basket, call the old woman up. TEDDY. What might your name be, sir? SCHMIDT. I am John Schmidt. TEDDY. I thought John Smith was dead. SCHMIDT. No humbug! I am te original John Schmidt. TEDDY. Well, Mr. Smith, I want my parquisites. (_goes to take carpet-bag._) SCHMIDT. You can't steal mine garpet-bags. TEDDY. Ye's _lying_--under a mistake. SCHMIDT. You tell me I'm lie, I vill blow your nose off. (_squares himself, puts down carpet-bag, TEDDY takes it up--SCHMIDT scuffles with him--TEDDY trips him--he falls on stage with carpet-bag in his arms_) Oh, mine bump! If mine vrow have seen you drip up mine heels von top tis floor, un bang mine bump, she would give you fury. I will have te constobber to take you mit te bost-office. (_TEDDY helps him up._) TEDDY. I hope you're not hurt, sir. You're mistaken; I'm the servant. (_brushes him off_) I beg your pardon, sir. SCHMIDT (L.). You begs mine bardon. Vell, I don't care. Der ish mine hand. I am John Schmidt, von ter firm of Schmidt, Vondunder, Kelt un Co., boot un shoes tread finters, un nunder tinks. TEDDY. I'm here, sir, waiting yer orders. What'll ye have, Mr. John Smith? SCHMIDT. I van some lager pier un spretsel--von leetle glass dat ish not as much as tri cent. TEDDY. A little glass, Mr. Smith! You have mouth enough to swallow a hogshead. [_Exit TEDDY, R._ SCHMIDT. Dat ish funny fellow. He drips up mine heels, un den he pegs mine bardon; un ven I ask him for tri cent glass lager bier, he say mine mouth is pig as hogshead mouth. Ven I vash leetle poy, as no pigger ash dot, ter gals say tat mine mouth ish burty, un mine frow say tat mine mouth ish burty, un by dinks I dinks so, too. _Enter MRS. BARRISNOBE, with bier, R._ MRS. B. Your bier, sir. SCHMIDT. Vot vilst du haben vor tat? MRS. B. Three cents, sir. SCHMIDT. Yaw! Ter ish five cent--I will haben two cent change. MRS. B. Very well, sir; I will send the change. SCHMIDT. Landlady, have you got von leetle bit onion tat ish notinks, un tat you will give to me mitout any charges? MRS. B. Well, that certainly is meanness. I'll see sir, and send the change. SCHMIDT. Landlady, I have gone to sleepen, till to-morrow morning. Vot you ask for un bed? MRS. B. Four dollars. SCHMIDT. Four dollars! my Got un hemmel! Why, I gets un bed in Chatham Street, New York, for swelve un a half cent. MRS. B. You will remember, sir, you are not in New York; and if you obtain a bed here, four dollars will be the charge. SCHMIDT. Landlady, I don't mean ter bed; I only vant sometinks to lay down mit, un shut mine eyes open--sometinks dat cost not ash moch ash fifty cent.