[The Farmer and May come back.
May. And now, untie the packets quickly, uncle.
Daniel. [Sinking into a big chair.] Not so fast, my little maid, not so fast—’tis a powerful long distance as I have journeyed this day, and ’tis wonderful warm for the time of year.
Elizabeth. I don’t hold with drinking nor with taking bites atween meals, but as your uncle has come a good distance, and the day is warm, you make take the key of the pantry, Annet, and draw a glass of cider for him.
[She takes the key from her pocket and hands it to Annet, who goes out.
Daniel. That’s it, Mother—that’s it. And when I’ve wetted my mouth a bit I’ll be able the better to tell you all about how ’twas over there.
May. O I’d dearly like to go to a Fair, I would. You always said that you’d take me the next time you went, Uncle.
Daniel. Ah and so I did, but when I comed to think it over, Fairs baint the place for little maids, I says to mother here—and no, that they baint, she answers back. But we’ll see how ’tis when you be growed a bit older, like. Us’ll see how ’twill be then, won’t us Mother?
Elizabeth. I wouldn’t encourage the child in her nonsense, if I was you, Dan. She’s old enough to know better than to ask to be taken to such places. Why in all my days I never set my foot within a fair, pleasure or business, nor wanted to, either.
May. And never rode on the pretty wood horses, Aunt, all spotted and with scarlet bridles to them?