Little Boy. Come, let us run back with it to her,—mother would tell us to do so, I’m sure, if she was here.
Little Girl. But I’m afraid the housekeeper won’t see us to-night.
Little Boy. Oh, yes; but I’ll beg, and pray, and push, till I get into her room.
Little Girl. Yes; but don’t push me, or I shall knock my head against the trees. Give me your hand, brother.—Oh, my faggot! I shall never find you.
{Exeunt.}
SCENE—Catherine’s Cottage.
CATHERINE, spinning, sings.
I.
Turn swift, my wheel, my busy wheel,
And leave my heart no time to feel;
Companion of my widow’d hour,
My only friend, my only dow’r.
II.