Mrs. Cricket. You won’t leave me long
Mr. Cricket. Rattle for me if you want me. And I expect a neighbour will be coming along. Have a chat with him, about the children, and all that, you know.
Mrs. Cricket. You bad boy.
Mr. Cricket. Now darling, be careful. Won’t be long, my pet.[Runs off.
Mrs. Cricket. (Rattles) Hush-a-bye—cricket—on the tree top! Cricket! I feel frightened.
Tramp. Don’t you be frightened, mum. You’ll ’ave an easier time than most ladies, by the look or yer.
Mrs. Cricket. Who ’s there, a beetle?—You don’t bite?
Tramp. No.
Mrs. Cricket. And how are the children?
Tramp. Ah, now you’re askin’! Rum, ’ow
Yer question ’urts me, some’ow;
For, beg your pardon, Madam—
Fact is, I’ve never ’ad ’em.
Mrs. Cricket. Oh, dear, haven’t you any children? That ’s a pity. (Shakes rattle) Cricket! Cricket! And why did you never marry, beetle?
Tramp. Well, some ’s too selfish, maybe,
To want a wife and baby . . .
Oh, ’strewth, what do I care now?—
She wouldn’t ’ave me! There now.
Mrs. Cricket. Yes! Yes! You men are troublesome. (Rattles) Cricket! Cricket! Cricket!
Chrysalis. In me, in me, in me,
The future strives to be!
Tramp. Oh, buck up!
Chrysalis. I will accomplish such deeds.
