THE POPLAR (_running up first and screaming at the top of his voice_)
Men?... Little men!... We shall be able to talk to them!... We've done with
silence!... Done with it!... Where do they come from?... Who are they?...
What are they?... (_To the_ LIME-TREE, _who comes forward quietly
smoking his pipe_) Do you know them, Daddy Lime-Tree?...

THE LIME-TREE
I do not remember ever having seen them....

THE POPLAR
Oh, yes, you must have!... You know all the men; you're always hanging
about their houses....

THE LIME-TREE (_examining the_ CHILDREN)
No, I assure you.... I don't know them.... They are too young still.... I
only know the lovers who come to see me by moonlight and the topers who
drink their beer under my branches....

THE CHESTNUT-TREE (_affectedly adjusting his eyeglass_)
Who are these?... Are they poor people from the country?...

THE POPLAR
Oh, as for you, Mr. Chestnut-Tree, ever since you have refused to show
yourself except in the streets of the big towns...

THE WILLOW (_hobbling along in a pair of wooden shoes_)
Oh dear, oh dear!... They have come to cut off my head and arms again for
fagots!...