Mr. Cricket. But darling, I’m so happy. Just fancy, all the little crickets, the noise, the chirping—(Imitates the noise and laughs.)
Mrs. Cricket. You—you silly boy—wants to be a great big Daddy, eh?
Mr. Cricket. And don’t you want to be a Mummy too?—my Popsy?
Mrs. Cricket. Yes’m does! Is this our new home?
Mr. Cricket. Our little nest. Commodious little villa residence.
Mrs. Cricket. Will it be dry? Who built it?
Mr. Cricket. Why, goodness me, another Cricket lived here years ago.
Mrs. Cricket. Fancy, and has he moved?
Mr. Cricket. Ha, ha—Yes, he’s moved. Don’t you know where to? Guess.
Mrs. Cricket. I don’t know—What a long time you take saying anything—Do tell me, Cricket, quickly.