KERSTI. Why did you call me, mother?
MOTHER. The woods were full of noises, child, and of stealthy footfalls. Could it be the bear?
KERSTI. Can't tell.
MOTHER. I thought I heard the strokes of an axe, but maybe I was mistaken.
KERSTI. The bear uses no axe, mother.
MOTHER. Why dressed up in your best, daughter?
KERSTI. It's Sunday, mother.
MOTHER. There is milk on your tucker, child. Have you been milking May-dew or Starbright?
KERSTI. Could I but milk the stars—and the moon, O!
MOTHER. While it's night, O!