Tomasso (at R.). You make-a me seek, Anita. There is-a no such things as fairies.
Anita. But I love to think there is. It is a great, grand-a pleasure just to think there is. Is it not, Meeny?
Meeny (stolidly). Oh, sure.
Anita. And that is why we should all be so verra, verra happy. We can think such-a lovely things. The poor leetla children at-a home, pouf! They cannot think such things, because they have never seen such a great, beeg-a ship, or such a great, beeg-a ocean—
Sergius. Or a whale.
Hulda. Or a nice little steerage bed built just like a shelf in the wall.
Tomasso. Or the great beeg-a engine that makes the ship go.
Meeny. Or the tons and tons of coal vay down deep by the cellar.
Sergius (mocking her). Way down deep by the cellar! Whoever heard of a cellar on board of a ship? You mean—down in the hatch.