ARCHIE.
[Releasing himself.] I’ll make him go quick. You will see from the window, mamma. With the whip. [He makes the gesture of cracking a whip and shouts at the top of his voice.] Avanti!
BRIGID.
Beat the poor horse, is it?
BERTHA.
Come here till I clean your mouth. [She takes her handkerchief from the pocket of her gown, wets it with her tongue and cleans his mouth.] You’re all smudges or something, dirty little creature you are.
ARCHIE.
[Repeats, laughing.] Smudges! What is smudges?
[The noise is heard of a milkcan rattled on the railings before the window.]
BRIGID.
[Draws aside the curtains and looks out.] Here he is!
ARCHIE.
[Rapidly.] Wait. I’m ready. Goodbye, mamma! [He kisses her hastily and turns to go.] Is pappie up?
BRIGID.
[Takes him by the arm.] Come on with you now.
BERTHA.
Mind yourself, Archie, and don’t be long or I won’t let you go any more.
ARCHIE.
All right. Look out of the window and you’ll see me. Goodbye.