Dick. That's just because you're a girl and don't know. Come along, let's try the hill again. Shall we go over the bump?
Dot. No, I'm afraid. Let's start down here.
[Exeunt.
[Enter from Left, Jim and Polly.
Jim. If you're very cold, Sister, we can go home right off now, but I've got four papers left, and I want awful bad to sell 'em, every one, so's I can take the money to Granny.
Polly. No, I'm not so dreadful cold, Jim. And, 'sides, maybe Granny's not got home yet from work, and then you know we'd just have to sit on the doorstep and wait.
Jim. We'll stay right here. Folks will be going home soon, and lots of men pass this corner. Here's a nice box to sit on; I don't believe the store man will mind. You sit on that side, so, Polly, and I'll sit here, so, for the wind's blowing this way, and if I sit here it will hit me first, and I can keep it off o' you. [They sit back to back on the box.]
Polly. Oh, Jim, I'm afraid you'll be cold.
Jim. Oh, no, I won't. [Two men cross stage arm in arm.] Here's your Times, Star, Evening Post. Last edition. [Men shake their heads.] [Looking after men.] Pshaw! Well, maybe the next feller'll want one. [To Polly.] See, Polly, I can't be cold, I just stuff my hands in my pockets—— [His hand comes through.] No, that's the wrong place. I just stuff my hands in my pockets like this, and then I kick my heels like this. [Kicks on box with his heels.] That's very warming. And then I whistle. [Whistles lively tune.] If you just whistle you don't have time to think about the wind, see!
Polly [drums with her heels and tries to whistle]. But it hurts to kick your heels, and I can't whistle.