(Apologetically, to Bull.)
Another time will do! I see you're busy!
[The Bull, after some consideration, decides to accept this retractation, and retreats with dignity to his stall, the door of which he carefully fastens after him. Exit Farmer Banks, L., as Lydia Banks enters R., accompanied by Chorus. The Bull exhibits the liveliest interest in her proceedings, as he looks on, with his forelegs folded easily upon the top of the door.
Song—Lydia Banks (in Polka time.)
I'm the child by Miss Jane Taylor sung;
Unnaturally good for one so young—
A pattern for the people that I go among,
With my moral little tags on the tip of my tongue,
And I often feel afraid that I shan't live long,
For I never do a thing that's rude or wrong!