MATS. And the baby, the baby, the dear little thing!
KERSTI. The poor dear! Oh, what will become of us? What can be in store for us? Get some wood, Mats! Mother will beat me if the milk doesn't curdle. Go, Mats!
MATS. There was a time when you served my father, KERSTI, and now it's my turn to serve you. Because he was harsh to you, I'll be good to you!
KERSTI. Yes, Mats, you are good, but I am not. If I only were!
MATS. Try to be!
KERSTI. Try to be bad, Mats, and we'll see if you can.
MATS. You don't mean it!
KERSTI. Who can tell?—Get away from here, Mats, and hurry up! Somebody is coming. I know her steps. It's mother!
MATS. Your mother?—And how about the baby?
KERSTI. [Picks up the carpet and throws it across the cradle; then she takes her sheepskin coat that has been hanging on the outside wall of the hut and spreads it on top of the carpet] Go, go, go!