Christmas comes but once a year.
[Laughter.
OLD HILSE
[Impatiently.] What is it you want in my house, you limbs of Satan?
OLD BAUMERT
[A little intimidated, coaxingly.] I was bringin' you a chicken, Gustav. I thought it would make a drop o' soup for mother.
OLD HILSE
[Embarrassed, almost friendly.] Well, you can tell mother yourself.
MOTHER HILSE
[Who has been making efforts to hear, her hand at her ear, motions them off.] Let me alone. I don't want no chicken soup.