Dad—But—
Knarf—Answering back, too. Be quiet, sir. That’s four for Friday.
Derf—He sweared, I fink, under his breff. I sawn his lips a-movin’.
Knarf—That’s six for Friday.
Ecila—Where’s Mom?
Dad—I don’t know. Dressing her doll, I think.
Ecila—(calling) Mom! Mom!
(Mom comes running in, doll in hand.)
Mom—What is it? Oh! (drops courtesy.) Happy to see you.
Ecila—You see, I have her well trained. Does your mother mind as quick?