Jane. [Holding out the coat for him.] Well, and you be got yourself up rare smart, Steve.
Steve. ’Tis rare smart as I be feeling, Mother. I’m all a kind of a dazzle within of me, same as ’tis with the sun upon the snow out yonder.
Jane. Why, look you, there’s George a-coming up the path already.
Dorry. He’s wearing of the flower what Rosie gived him last night.
Steve. [Opening the door.] Good morning, George. A first class New Year to you. You’re welcome, if ever a man was.
Jane. You bide where you do stand, George, till your feet is dry. My floor was fresh wiped over this morning.
George. [Standing on the door mat.] All right, Mrs. Browning. Don’t you fluster. Good morning, Dorry. How be you to-day, Steve?
Jane. Dorry, come you upstairs along with me and get your coat put on, so as your frock bain’t crushed.
Dorry. O, I wish I could go so that my nice frock was seen and no coat.
[They go upstairs. George rubs his feet on the mat and comes into the room, walking up and down once or twice restlessly and in evident distress of mind.