[Exit.
Tramp. This ’as me fairly beat. That fly destroys The cricket jest to feed ’is girls and boys; But that pore ’armless cricket found life sweet, Same as ’e does.—No! Nature ’as me beat!
Larva. (Crawling out of hole) Daddy! Daddy!
Tramp. So you’re the Larva. Let’s have a look at you.
Larva. How ugly you are!
Tramp. Am I? Why?
Larva. I don’t know—Oh, how bored I am! I want—I want——
Tramp. What yer want?
Lama. I don’t know. Yes I do—To tear up something—Something alive—that wriggles.
Tramp. ’Ere, what’s come over yer?