Father. It's always the way with you—never satisfied, you ain't! Well, pass the boy across—I'm for a quiet life, I am. (Changing seats.) Will this do for you?
[He settles down immediately behind a very large, and furry, and feathery hat, which he dodges for some time, with the result of obtaining an occasional glimpse of a pair of legs on the stage.
Father (suddenly). D—— the 'at!
Mother. You can't wonder at the boy not seeing! P'raps the lady wouldn't might taking it off, if you asked her?
Father. Ah! (He touches The Owner of the Hat on the shoulder.) Excuse me, Mum, but might I take the liberty of asking you to kindly remove your 'at? [The Owner of the Hat deigns no reply.
Father (more insistently). Would you 'ave any objection to oblige me by taking off your 'at, Mum? (Same result.) I don't know if you 'eard me, Mum, but I've asked you twice, civil enough, to take that 'at of yours off. I'm a playin' 'Ide and Seek be'ind it 'ere!
[No answer.
The Mother. People didn't ought to be allowed in the Pit with sech 'ats! Callin' 'erself a lady—and settin' there in a great 'at and feathers like a 'Ighlander's, and never answering no more nor a stuffed himage!
Father (to the Husband of The Owner of the Hat). Will you tell your good lady to take her 'at off, Sir, please?
The Owner of the Hat (to her Husband). Don't you do nothing of the sort, SAM, or you'll 'ear of it!