Moselle (outside). Never mind me, Tom, help Agnes; my foot is on my native heath, my name's (appears on run)—
All. Mosey?
Moselle. Yes, Mosey, Moses, Moselle,—we three. Ha, ha, ha! that's me. (Runs down into Mother Merton's arms.) O you dear old soul, ain't I glad I'm home!
Mother. 'Tis a happy day for us, darling.
Moselle (breaking away). Where's daddy?
Vermont. Right here, little one.
Moselle (throws her arms about his neck). Here's your nugget, daddy. Ain't you glad to get it back?
Vermont. Glad? that's no name for it (holds her off). Let's have a look at you,—sunshine all over, and as fine as a fiddle in your store-clothes.
Moselle. I'll not be in them long, daddy, so take a good look at them; for I'm just dying to get into my old climbing-suit, and away for a scamper over the rocks. Ah, Jube! there's lots of fun ahead.