Children. Peace to the dead.
(Joan stands lost in reverie and speaks unconsciously by rote.)
Joan. “God bless”—(She turns and looks out)
Children. God bless—(They wait to be prompted)
Matthew. Say, muvver, shall we pray for the snowman too? Shall us? Shall us?
Joan. (Still musing) Nay, nay! You leave the snowman out! He knows his way—he knows his way.
Children.—
{ sister }
Bless mother, { brother } kind friends all about,
Bring Dada home, and leave the snowman out.