M.—Or we can feed the hens.
F.—I wouldn't for worlds! I hate things that come flapping and pecking round my feet.
M.—Then let's go into the stable and we will show you our ponies.
F.—Oh, no! Stables are so smelly, I can't bear them.
E.—Well, is there anything you would like to do? What do you do in London?
F.—I like driving through the streets in an open carriage and looking at the shops.
M.—In that case, you had better have remained in London, as there are no streets here and no shops.
F.—Very well! I shall go and tell my mother that I want to go back.
M.—You had better! (Exit Fanny r.) Come, Elsie, let us go to the wigwam.
(They go out L.)