MRS. BRAMSON: Never you mind, dear.... Any more of those terrible
people called? Reporters? Police?

DAN (_gaily_): There's a definite fallin' off in attendance to-day.
Sunday, I expect.

MRS. BRAMSON: Hush, don't talk like that, dear.

DAN: Sorry, mum.

MRS. BRAMSON: And don't call me "mum"!

DAN: Well, if I can't call you Mrs. Bramson, what can I call you?

MRS. BRAMSON: If you were very good, I might let you call me ...
mother!

DAN (_mischievously, his hand to his forehead_): O.K., mother.

MRS. BRAMSON (_joining in his laughter_): Oh, you are in a mood
to-day! (_Suddenly, imperiously_) I want to be read to now.

DAN (_crossing to the desk, in mock resignation_): Your servant,
mother o' mine.... What'll you have? _The Channings? The Red Court
Farm_?

MRS. BRAMSON: I'm tired of them.

DAN: Well ... oh! (_Taking a large Bible from the top of the
desk_) What about the Bible?