TOOTLES (who has the poorest opinion of himself). I don’t suppose Michael would let me be baby?
MICHAEL. No, I won’t.
TOOTLES. May I be dunce?
FIRST TWIN (from his perch). No. It’s awfully difficult to be dunce.
TOOTLES. As I can’t be anything important would any of you like to see me do a trick?
OMNES. No.
TOOTLES (subsiding). I hadn’t really any hope.
(The tale-telling breaks out again.)
NIBS. Slightly is coughing on the table.
CURLY. The twins began with tappa rolls.
SLIGHTLY. I complain of Nibs!
NIBS. I complain of Slightly!
WENDY. Oh dear, I am sure I sometimes think that spinsters are to be envied.
MICHAEL. Wendy, I am too big for a cradle.
WENDY. You are the littlest, and a cradle is such a nice homely thing to have about a house. You others can clear away now. (She sits down on a pumpkin near the fire to her usual evening occupation, darning.) Every heel with a hole in it!
