LISA. Well, what think you?

PEHR. Oh! it's rather good--but not quite what I had fancied.

LISA. So it is always--all through life.

PEHR. My dear girl, how wise you are! Lisa, may I put my arm around
your waist? [A bird in the tree begins to sing softly.]

LISA. Yes; but what for?

PEHR. May I kiss you also?

LISA. Yes--there's no harm in that, surely. [Bird sings louder.]

PEHR. I'm so warm after the play, Lisa! Shall we bathe in the
brook?

LISA. [Covers her eyes with her hands.] Bathe!

PEHR. [Throws off coat.] Yes!

LISA. [Hides behind a tree.] No, no, no! [Bird sings.]

PEHR. Who is that screech-owl up in the tree?

LISA. It is a bird that sings.

PEHR. What does he sing about?