great stain on her frock.) I wish to heaven, Margaret, we were not
both so fond of apple-tart. And what's this? (Catching hold of her
skirt.)

MARGARET (unnecessarily). It's a tear.

DEARTH. I should think it is a tear.

MARGARET. That boy at the farm did it. He kept calling Snubs after me,
but I got him down and kicked him in the stomach. He is rather a
jolly boy.

DEARTH. He sounds it. Ye Gods, what a night!

MARGARET (considering the picture). And what a moon! Dad, she is not
quite so fine as that.

DEARTH. 'Sh! I have touched her up.

MARGARET. Dad, Dad--what a funny man!

(She has seen MR. COADE with whistle, enlivening the wood. He
pirouettes round them and departs to add to the happiness of others.
MARGARET gives an excellent imitation of him at which her father
shakes his head, then reprehensibly joins in the dance. Her mood
changes, she clings to him.)

MARGARET. Hold me tight, Daddy, I 'm frightened. I think they want to
take you away from me.