Nay, Miss, he seems moor sensible nor surly—
He knows as how good children perish early!
[The Bull nods in acknowledgment that he is at last understood, and slaps his chest with his forelegs.
Lydia.
Bull, I'll turn naughty, if you'll but be lenient!
Goodness, I see, is sometimes inconvenient.
I promise you henceforth I'll try, at any rate,
To act like children who are unregenerate!
[The Bull, after turning this over, decides to accept a compromise.
Jack.