OLD HILSE
Gottlieb, Gottlieb!
MOTHER HILSE
Where's Gottlieb gone?
OLD HILSE
He's gone to the devil.
VOICES FROM THE ENTRY-ROOM
Go away from the window, father Hilse.
OLD HILSE
Not I! Not if you all goes crazy together! [To MOTHER HILSE, with rapt excitement.] My heavenly Father has placed me here. Isn't that so, mother? Here we'll sit, an' do our bounden duty—ay, though the snow was to go on fire.