Mother. I read (Child makes a face) or do fancy work.
Child. I hate sewing.
Mother. Or I have a friend to lunch.
Child. Yes, but you only sit and talk.
Mother. Or I write letters.
Child. That’s worse than sewing.
Mother. Or I play the piano. Oh, I enjoy myself very much.
Child. Well, I don’t think mammas have a bit good time if that is all they do. (Jumps up, skips across the floor.) Oh, I know! (Stops, sits down in another chair, is dignified again.) I forgot. (Apologetically.) You see, I’ve been Mary so long. Well, Mary, you go and bring me my jewelry. (Mother hesitates.) Go right along, child. You must obey me at once. (Mother goes out, Child smiles.) I guess she finds that isn’t very easy. (Bounces up and down on her chair.) My! But it’s horrid to sit still so long! I’d like to go swing, only mammas never do. (Squirms about. Mother enters, hands her two jewel boxes.)
Mother. Shall I practice now?