Jill. [Patronizing but friendly.] Yes, Bo-Peep, we all noticed, only we’ve been too polite to speak about it. [Confidentially, with an air of wisdom.] Have you ever tried dampening it and pressing it?
Bo-Peep. Yes, Mother Goose does that for me every little while.
Jill. But it is badly faded, isn’t it?
Bo-Peep. Of course it is! How could it help being? I’ve been chasing those sheep for years, out in the hot sun, and hooking their legs—like—like this!
[She reverses her crook and begins hooking it around the children’s ankles. They hop and run to escape her. Screams and laughter.]
Mother Goose. [Entering, waving her stick at them.] Children! children! What are you doing? You’ll wake the house! And Santa Claus may pop in any minute and catch you! And then what!
All. Catch us? What fun!
Jack. Perhaps we’d catch him! We’d make him give us a new pail, wouldn’t we, Jill?
Bo-Peep. And me a new ribbon.
Boy Blue. And me a new horn.