Elizabeth. ’Tis altogether wrong. ’Tis like the two ears of a heifer sticking out more than anything else that I can think on.
Daniel. Have it your own way, Mother—and fix it as you like.
[He stands before her and she rearranges it.
Annet. These flowers were lying on the ground.
Elizabeth. Thrown there in a fine fit of temper, I warrant.
Daniel. Her was as quiet as a new born lamb once the door was broke open and she did see as my word, well, ’twas my word.
Elizabeth. We all hear a great deal about your word, Father, but ’twould be better for there to be more do and less say about you.
Daniel. [Going over to Annet and looking at her intently.] Why, my wench—what be you a-dropping tears for this day?
Annet. [Drying her eyes.] ’Twas—’twas the scent out of one of the flowers as got to my eyes, Uncle.
Daniel. Well, that’s a likely tale it is. Hear that, Mother? ’Tis with her eyes that this little wench do snuff at a flower. That’s good, bain’t it?