Moselle. But ain't you glad he's found you? It must be so good to hear news from home.
Vermont. Well, Mosey, you keep quiet: I don't want the boys to know he's my son. I've told you—
Moselle. A fairy story. I understand.
Vermont. Jes' so. A fairy story, without the fairy.
Moselle (rising). Oh! you're the fairy, for you are always doing good. But where is he? I must see him.
Vermont. In my ranch.
Moselle. I'll just run down and have a peep at him,—the boy who threw the deacon—no, the fairy. Ha, ha, ha! (Runs off R. 2 E.)
Vermont. I reckon I'm a healthy old fairy.
(Enter Mother, from cabin.)
Mother. Where's Moselle?