Tom. No, I don't see your duster.
Sarah. Did I ax ye if ye saw it now? I said, have ye sane it?
Tom. And I said I didn't see it.
Sarah. Well, ye little fox, I know yer tricks, and I'll find it yet. Them as hides, finds, but sometimes other folks can find, too, when they know who did the hiding. Ah! what did I tell ye! I've got it at last. I knew ye put it somewheres. Now I can get my work done.
Tom. Well, don't you bother me.
Sarah [stands with hands on hips, looking at Tom, who scowls at her]. If I were you, I wouldn't scowl like that, Master Tom; yer furhead might stay that way.
Tom. If I were you, I wouldn't either.
Sarah. Ye don't look a bit pretty, Master Tom.
Tom. You don't have to look at me.
Sarah. See, this is what ye look like. [Makes a face and hunches up her shoulders. Tom refuses to look.] Do ye think that's rale handsome? [Aside.] Well, since I can't t'ase ye into a good humor, I'll go on down.