T.—Because of my accident, of course. If I hadn't hurt my hand I certainly should have found it in another minute.
J.—It was a little grey man with a pointed cap who told me where to look for it.
T.—(Aside.) Horrid little creature! I wish I had offered him some luncheon! (Aloud.) He told me all about it. He intended it for me, so you had better hand it over.
(Tom grasps at the goose. Jack pulls it away. Tom gets up with it.)
T.—What has happened to the thing? I can't get away from it!
M.—Oh, my dear boy, what can have happened!
(Tries to drag Tom away, but sticks.)
T.—Go away, Mother. Don't hold on to me any more.
M.—I can't get away. (Father tries to drag them away.)
M.—Go away, Father!