ALLEN. No, did un? (Laughs.)
DEB. One of the guinea hens is dead, the little one of all.
ALLEN. What, the one as used to squint?
DEB. Yes, Parsons left his shot on the pigstye wall, and she ate two ounces. Oh, and you remember Jim?
ALLEN. What, the bantam?
DEB. Yes. He’s given his own father such a licking, and won’t let him come near the yard.
ALLEN. (Laughing heartily.) Plucky little beggar! Serve the old ‘un right. He wur always a bully. Now, mother—(about to hand her the pie.) Why, mother, thee art crying!
MRS. R. (Crying.) No, I ain’t. Go on with thee supper, lad.
ALLEN. (Looking at Deb.) And—why, here be Deb. crying too!
(The two women laugh through their tears. Allen joins them as curtain descends.)