Thank you for checking out this book by Theophania Publishing. We appreciate your business and look forward to serving you soon. We have thousands of titles available, and we invite you to search for us by name, contact us via our website, or download our most recent catalogues. Ebenezer. O, it is! This is the mysterious abode of my runaway son. Well, I don't see anything very inviting here; a few miserable chairs, a rickety lounge, a mean little table- Clap. Come, come, sir; don't abuse my furniture. Eben. O, pooh, pooh! What business have you harboring a runaway scamp who ought to be at home, you old, gray-headed ruffian? Clap. Come, come, sir; once for all, I won't be abused in my own house. If your son chooses to hire a room in my house, to pay handsomely for the same, and to behave himself in a gentlemanly manner, here he stops just as long as he pays, you old heathen. Eben. Old heathen! Confound you, do you know who you are talking to, Mr. Claptrap? Clap. Clapboard, sir; Clapboard is my name. Eben. Do you know who you are talking to? Clap. I've a pretty good idea. Some fiery old lunatic just escaped from Bedlam. Eben. Fire and fury! I'll break this cane over your head, insolent! Clap. Do; and then I'll throw you and the pieces down those stairs, catamount! Eben. (Aside.) O, this won't do. (Aloud.) I beg your pardon, Mr. Claptrap. Clap. Clapboard, sir. Eben. Mr. Clapboard, I was a little hasty. You must attribute it to the anxiety of a devoted parent. I have a son.