Woodcutter. (Singing) ‘As I went down to Shrewsbury Town I came by luck....’
(He sees the Tramp’s corpse) Hallo—what’s this? Boozed, is he? Here—wake up, mate. My word! he’s dead. Poor old chap.... Well, anyway, he’ll have no more trouble.
Enter a Woman, carrying a new-born baby.
Woman. Morning, Peter Wood. Why, whatever’s the matter?
[Church bells.
Woodcutter. He’s dead.
Woman. Dead? Who is it?
Woodcutter. Only a tramp by the look of him.
Woman. It gives me a turn. It’s bad luck, you know. Here am I taking my sister’s baby to be baptized, and—ugh!
Woodcutter. One’s born and another dies. No great matter, missus.