Ichneumon Fly. (Returning) No, no, daughter, you must eat. You mustn’t come out—it wouldn’t do at all. Daddy’ll soon be back and he’ll bring you something nice. What would you like, piggywiggy?
Enter Larva.
Larva. Daddy, I’m bored here.
Ichneumon Fly. Ha, ha! That’s a nice thing to say. Give daddy a kiss—Daddy’ll bring you something tasty. Would you like a follow of cricket? Ha, ha—not a bad idea.
Larva. I’d like—I don’t know what I’d like.
Ichneumon Fly. She doesn’t know what she’d like, bless her little heart. I’ll find something you’ll like—Ta-ta! Daddy must go to work now—Daddy must go a hunting and fetch something for his popsy-wopsy. Ta-ta! Go back now, poppet, and wait for your din-din. Ta-ta!
[Exit Larva.
Ichneumon Fly. (To Tramp) Who are you?
Tramp. I?
Ichneumon Fly. Are you edible?