MUMMY TYL
That's not to be wondered at: he's been dead these fifty-seven years.
TYLTYL
(Sweeping the floor lustily.) Perhaps I had better put on my Sunday clothes?
MUMMY TYL
No, you needn't; you're all right as you are. We'll just lay the white tablecloth.... Besides, there's no time now; here they come; I can hear them walking up the path.
(A knock at the door. MUMMY TYL opens it. Enter THE NEIGHBOUR and JOY, followed by DADDY TYL, with his axe on his shoulder.)
DADDY TYL
(Calling out from the threshold.) Here they are! Here they are!
THE NEIGHBOUR