Edward, your kind nurse must have some lunch--go and order
some.

EDWARD (_scornfully_). Isn't Patrick here?

MARY. No, my son. I asked him to give my old pony some water.

MRS. L. Go, my son, go; it will gratify me.

EDWARD. Oh! then I will fly. What shall I order?

MRS. L. The very best in the house.

MORRIS (_running after him_). Wait, Edward, I will go with you, and help
you give the order. I know what my mother likes.

SCENE X.

MRS. L. Well, dear nurse, how do you get on since you have moved into
your new cottage?

MARY. Oh! capitally, ma'am.

MRS. L. And your husband, big Peter--is he pleased and contented?

MARY. He is so, ma'am, as happy as a king! Daisy--that's our cow,
ma'am--has just given us a beautiful calf; we have fifty chickens,
twenty geese, and a good old pony who carries our vegetables to the
railroad station for the New York market. I thank God, and you who have
been so good to us.

MRS. L. Is big Peter industrious, and does he bring up Morris in the
right way?

MARY. Oh! thank God again for all his mercies. I am not proud; but my
boy is the best boy in the whole neighborhood, and so smart! he reads in
the biggest books; he does the most terrible long sums, almost like a
flash of lightning--his schoolmaster is astonished at his quickness; his
head is just as full as it can hold of learning, and his heart is just
as full of love for his father and mother. (_She falters, and the tears
rush into her eyes_).

MRS. L. (_very kindly_). I am delighted to hear this; he will always be
a comfort to you if he is so good now. But here he comes--he looks
distressed.

SCENE XI.--MRS. LANGDON, MARY, MR. SHERWOOD, _and_ MORRIS.

MORRIS (_crying and rubbing his eyes_). Oh, dear!

MARY. What's the matter, my son? Have you had a tumble?

MORRIS. No, mother; never mind.

MARY. But tell me, what has happened?

MORRIS (_trying to lead her away_). Come, mother, let us go away.

MRS. L. Where Is Edward?

MORRIS. In the garden, ma'am. Come, mother, come; I want to go home. I
don't like this place.

MRS. L. No doubt Edward is picking a basket of fruit for you.

MORRIS. I rather think not. Mother, I beg you to let us leave at once. I
have my reasons.

MR. S. And I can guess them. Edward has been beating you--has he not?

MRS. L. Impossible!!!

MORRIS. Very possible, indeed. In fact, quite certain.

MRS. L. Dear me! did he hurt you much?

MORRIS. It is not the pain. I could have beate