MYTYL
I feel hungry!...

TYLTYL
I, too!...

THE FAIRY (_to_ BREAD)
Open your Turkish robe and give them a slice of your good stomach....

(BREAD _opens his robe, draws his scimitar and cuts two slices out of his
stomach and hands them to the_ CHILDREN.)


SUGAR (_approaching the_ CHILDREN)
Allow me at the same time to offer you a few sugar-sticks....
(_He breaks off the five fingers of his left hand, one by one, and
presents them to the_ CHILDREN.)

MYTYL
What is he doing?... He is breaking all his fingers!...

SUGAR (_engagingly_)
Taste them, they are capital... They're made of real barley-sugar....

MYTYL (_tasting one of the fingers_)
Oh, how good they are!... Have you many of them?...

SUGAR (_modestly_)
Yes; as many as I want....