Children\'s Classics In Dramatic Form - Augusta Stevenson
CHILDREN'S CLASSICS IN DRAMATIC FORM
A READER FOR THE FOURTH GRADE
BY AUGUSTA STEVENSON
Formerly a Teacher in the Indianapolis Public Schools
1908
TO
MISS N. CROPSEY
Assistant Superintendent
Indianapolis Public Schools
[Illustration: "The moon changes into the red beard of the old
soldier"]
FOREWORD
This book is intended to accomplish three distinct purposes: first, to
arouse a greater interest in oral reading; second, to develop an expressive
voice--sadly lacking in the case of most Americans; and third, to give
freedom and grace in the bodily attitudes and movements which are involved
in reading and speaking. The stories given are for the most part
adaptations of favorite tales from folklore,--Andersen, Grimm, Aesop, and
the Arabian Nights having been freely drawn upon.
Children are dramatic by nature. They _are_ for the time the kings, the
fairies, and the heroes that they picture in their imaginations. They _are_
these characters with such abandon and with such intense pleasure that the
on-looker must believe that nature intended that they should give play to
this dramatic instinct, not so much formally, with all the trappings of the
man-made stage, but spontaneously and naturally, as they talk and read. If
this expressive instinct can be utilized in the teaching of reading, we
shall be able both to add greatly to the child's enjoyment and to improve
the quality of his oral reading. In these days when so many books are
hastily read in school, there is a tendency to sacrifice expression to the
mechanics and interpretation of reading. Those acquainted with school work
know too well the resulting monotonous, indistinct speech and the
self-conscious, listless attitude which characterize so much of the
reading of pupils in grades above the third. It is believed that this
little book will aid in overcoming these serious faults in reading, which
all teachers and parents deplore. The dramatic appeal of the stories will
cause the child to lose himself in the character he is impersonating and
read with a naturalness and expressiveness unknown to him before, and this
improvement will be evident in all his oral reading, and even in his
speech.
The use of the book permits the whole range of expression, from merely
reading the stories effectively, to "acting them out" with as little, or as
much, stage-setting or costuming as a parent or teacher may desire. The
stories are especially designed to be read as a part of the regular reading
work. Many different plans for using the book will suggest themselves to
the teacher. After a preliminary reading of a story during the study
period, the teacher may assign different parts to various children, she
herself reading the stage directions and the other brief descriptions
inclosed in brackets. The italicized explanations in parentheses are not
intended to be read aloud; they will aid in giving the child the cue as to
the way the part should be rendered. After the story has been read in this
way, if thought advisable it can be played informally and simply, with no
attempt at costuming or theatric effects. It will often add to the interest
of the play to have some of the children represent certain of the inanimate
objects of the scene, as the forest, the town gate, a door, etc.
Occasionally, for the "open day," or as a special exercise, a favorite play
may be given by the children with the simplest kind of costuming and
stage-setting. These can well be made in the school as a part of the manual
training and sewing work. In giving the play, it will generally be better
not to have pupils memorize the exact words of the book, but to depend upon
the impromptu rendering of their parts. This method will contribute more
largely to the training in English.
The best results will usually be obtained by using these stories in the
fourth grade. In some schools, however, the stories in the first part of
the book may profitably be used in the third grade.
The author has been led to believe from her own experience and from her
conversation with many other teachers that there is a pronounced call for
this kind of book. She therefore hopes that in the preparation of this book
she may have been of service to the teachers and children who may be led to
use it.
A. S.
CONTENTS
THE TRAVELLERS AND THE HATCHET
_Adapted from Aesop's Fable, The Travellers and the Hatchet._
THE OLD MAN AND HIS GRANDSON
_Adapted from Grimm's The Old Man and his Grandson._
THE CROW AND THE FOX
_Suggested by Aesop's Fable, The Crow and the Fox._
THE MILLER, HIS SON, AND THEIR DONKEY
_Suggested by Aesop's Fable, The Miller, his Son, and their Ass._
EACH IN HIS OWN PLACE
_Suggested by Grimm's The Mouse, the Bird, and the Sausage._
WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS ALWAYS RIGHT
_Adapted from Hans Andersen's What the Goodman does is always Right._
THE CAT AND THE MOUSE
_Suggested by Grimm's The Cat and the Mouse._
THE GIRL WHO TROD ON THE LOAF
_Suggested by Hans Andersen's The Girl who trod on the Loaf._
THE UGLY DUCKLING
_Suggested by Hans Andersen's The Ugly Duckling._
THE RED SHOES
_Suggested by Hans Andersen's The Red Shoes._
THE STORY OF ALI COGIA
_Adapted from The Story of Ali Cogia from The Arabian Nights'
Entertainments._
THE WILD SWANS
_Suggested by Hans Andersen's The Wild Swans._
THE TWO COUNTRYMEN
_Suggested by an oriental legend; source unknown._
THE MAN AND THE ALLIGATOR
_From a folk-tale of Spanish Honduras._
THE SONG IN THE HEART
_Suggested by Grimm's The Three Spinners._
THE EMPEROR'S TEST
CHRISTOPHER COLUMBUS
ILLUSTRATIONS
THE MOON CHANGES INTO THE RED BEARD OF THE OLD SOLDIER.
THE TRAVELLERS AND THE HATCHET
"WE HAVE LOST OUR DONKEY"
WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS ALWAYS RIGHT
THE CAT AND THE MOUSE
"'T IS SINKING! WHAT SHALL I DO?"
THE UGLY DUCKLING
"A THOUSAND PIECES AT LEAST"
THE TWO COUNTRYMEN
"HELP! HELP!"
THE PRINCE SEES THE THREE GREAT-AUNTS
THE TRAVELLERS AND THE HATCHET
TIME: _last week_.
PLACE: _a high road_.
* * * * *
FIRST TRAVELLER.
SECOND TRAVELLER.
THE CARPENTER.
* * * * *
[_The_ TWO TRAVELLERS _journey along the road. A hatchet lies in the dust
at one side._][Footnote: The explanations in _brackets_ may be read by the
teacher.]
FIRST TRAVELLER (_seeing the hatchet, taking it up_).[Footnote: The words
in _parentheses_ are not intended to be read aloud; they will give the
child the cue as to how the part should be rendered.] Ah, see what I have
found!
SECOND TRAVELLER. Do not say _I_, but rather, what _we_ have found.
FIRST TRAVELLER. Nonsense! Did I not see the hatchet first? And did I not
take it up?
SECOND TRAVELLER. Well, then, claim the hatchet, since that is plainly your
wish.
[_Enter the_ CARPENTER.]
CARPENTER (_to First Traveller_). Aha, thief! Now I have caught you!
[_He seizes the First Traveller._]
FIRST TRAVELLER. No thief am I, sir!
[Illustration: THE TRAVELLERS AND THE HATCHET]
CARPENTER. But my own hatchet is in your hand, sir. Come along to the
judge, sir!
FIRST TRAVELLER (_to Second Traveller_). Alas, we are undone!
SECOND TRAVELLER. Do not say _we_. You are undone, not I. You would not
allow me to share the prize; you cannot expect me to share the danger. I
bid you good day, sir.
THE OLD MAN AND HIS GRANDSON
TIME: _now_.
PLACE: _a certain_ MAN'S _house_.
* * * * *
THE MAN.
HIS WIFE.
THEIR SON--LITTLE HANS.
THE GRANDFATHER.
* * * * *
[_The_ MAN, _his_ WIFE, _little_ HANS, _and the_ GRANDFATHER _sit at the
table eating the noon meal._]
MAN. Be careful, father! You are spilling the soup on your coat.
GRANDFATHER (_trying to steady his trembling hand_). Yes, yes, I'll be
careful.
[_Short pause._]
WIFE (_sharply_). Grandfather! You have spilled the soup on my clean
tablecloth!
GRANDFATHER (_embarrassed_). Dear me! Dear me!
[_Short pause._]
MAN. Here, father, is your plate of meat.
[_The old man takes the plate, but lets it fall._]
WIFE (_angrily_). There now! Just see what
you have done!
GRANDFATHER. My hand shook so--I'm sorry--so sorry!
WIFE. That won't mend the plate!
MAN. Nor buy a new one!
WIFE (_to her husband_). He should eat from wooden dishes.
MAN (_nodding, pointing to a wooden dish_). Let him have that one for his
meat.
[_The Grandfather sighs sadly. The Wife gets a wooden dish and fills it
with meat. Little Hans leaves the table and plays with his blocks on the
floor._]
WIFE (_handing the wooden dish to the Grandfather_). Here's one you can't
break. Go now and sit in the corner behind the oven. You shall eat there
hereafter. I cannot have my tablecloths soiled--that I cannot!
[_The Grandfather takes his wooden plate and goes to the seat in the corner
behind the oven. His eyes are filled with tears._]
MAN. Come, little Hans, and finish your dinner.
WIFE (_turning to Hans_). Bless me! What are you making, child?
HANS. A wooden trough for you and father to eat out of when I grow big.
[_The Man and his Wife look at each other; there is a pause._]
MAN (_showing shame_). He will treat us as we have treated father!
WIFE (_weeping_). 'T will serve us right!
MAN (_kindly_). Father, throw that wooden dish out of the window. I am
ashamed of what I have done; forgive me!
WIFE (_kindly_). Father, come back to the table. I too am ashamed. Forgive
me, dear father.
THE CROW AND THE FOX
TIME: _yesterday noon_.
PLACE: _a high tree in a grove_.
* * * * *
MADAM CROW.
MISS CROW, _her Daughter_.
MASTER FOX.
* * * * *
[MADAM CROW _sits in the tree. Enter_ MISS CROW. _She carries a large piece
of cheese in her mouth._]
MADAM. O joy! O joy! Come, dear daughter, come! We'll dine as if we were
queen and princess!
[_Miss Crow flies to Madam Crow. Enter_ MASTER FOX.]
FOX. I bid you good morning, dear madam.
MADAM. Good morning to you, dear sir.
FOX (_sitting under tree_). With your permission, I'll speak with your
daughter.
MADAM. She'll be pleased to listen, that she will--you are so clever.
FOX (_modestly_). Nay, madam, not so clever, only thoughtful.
[_He sighs deeply twice._]
MADAM. You have something on your mind.
FOX (_sighing_). Yes, dear madam,--I am thinking of your daughter.
MADAM. Then speak! Speak now, sir!--at once, sir!
FOX. I speak. O sweet Miss Crow, how beautiful your wings are!
MADAM (_pleased_). Do you hear that, daughter?
[_Miss Crow nods, spreading her wings proudly._]
FOX. I speak again. How bright your eye, dear maid! How graceful your neck!
MADAM. Bend your neck, child! Now bend it well that he may better see your
grace.
[_Miss Crow bends neck twice._]
FOX. But oh, that such a sweet bird should be dumb!--should be so utterly
dumb!
[_He weeps gently in his little pocket handkerchief._]
MADAM (_indignantly_). Do you think, sir, she cannot _caw_ as well as the
rest of us?
FOX. I must think so, dear madam. Alas!
[_Weeping again in his little pocket handkerchief._]
MADAM. You shall think so, then, no longer! Caw, child, caw, as you have
never cawed before!
MISS CROW (_opening mouth; dropping cheese_). Caw! Caw!
[_Fox quickly snaps up the cheese._]
FOX (_going_). Thank you, Miss Crow. Remember, dear madam, that whatever
I said of her beauty, I said nothing of her brains.
[_He goes, waving the crows a farewell with his little pocket
handkerchief._]
THE MILLER, HIS SON, AND THEIR DONKEY
TIME: _this morning_.
PLACE: _a bridge, near a town and not far from a Fair_.
* * * * *
THE MILLER AND HIS SON.
FIRST MAID.
SECOND MAID.
THIRD MAID.
FIRST OLD MAN.
SECOND OLD MAN.
THIRD OLD MAN.
FIRST GOODY.
SECOND GOODY.
THIRD GOODY.
THE MAYOR.
HIS FIRST CLERK.
HIS SECOND CLERK.
* * * * *
[_The_ MILLER _and his_ SON _are driving their donkey across the bridge.
They go to the Fair._]
SON. Do you expect to get a good price for our donkey, father?
MILLER (_nodding_). Aye, lad; the Fair is the place to take your wares.
SON. Our donkey is not so young, though.
MILLER. Neither is he so old, though.
SON. But he is not so fat, though.
MILLER. Neither is he so lean, though.
SON. Truly he might be worse.
MILLER. Better or worse, he must be sold.
[THREE MAIDS _enter the bridge. They go to the Fair._]
FIRST MAID (_pointing to the Miller and his Son_). Look there! Did you ever
see such geese?
SECOND MAID. As I live!--walking when they might ride!
THIRD MAID (_to the Miller_). You'll get a laugh at the Fair, old man!
[_The Maids pass on._]
MILLER. This may be true. Get you upon the beast, lad.
[_The boy mounts the donkey. Enter_ THREE OLD MEN. _They talk together
earnestly. They go to the Fair._]
FIRST OLD MAN (_pointing to the Miller and his Son_). Look you there! That
proves what I was saying.
SECOND OLD MAN (_nodding_). Aye! There's no respect shown old age in these
days.
THIRD OLD MAN (_nodding_). Aye! There's that young rogue riding while his
old father has to walk!
[_The Old Men pass on._]
MILLER. Get down, lad. 'T would indeed look better should I ride.
[_The lad dismounts; the Miller mounts. Enter_ THREE GOODIES; _they go to
the Fair._]
FIRST GOODY (_indignantly, pointing to the Miller and his Son_). Look,
Goodies, look! Did you ever see anything so cruel?
SECOND GOODY (_to the Miller_). You lazy old fellow! How can you ride while
your own child walks in the dust?
THIRD GOODY (_to the lad_). You poor, poor child!
[_The Goodies pass on, shaking their heads and their canes indignantly._]
MILLER. Come, lad, get up behind me.
SON. Why, father, I'm not tired!
MILLER. I know, but we must try to please them. Come.
[_The lad mounts, sitting behind his father. Enter the_ MAYOR _and his_
CLERKS. _They go to the Fair._]
MAYOR (_turning to his Clerks; pointing to the Miller and his Son_). Look,
will you!
(_He turns to the Miller._)
Pray, honest friend, is that beast your own?
MILLER. Yes, my lord Mayor.
MAYOR. One would not think so from the way you load him. Say you not so, my
Clerks?
FIRST CLERK (_bowing_). Just so, my lord Mayor.
SECOND CLERK (_bowing_). Even so, my lord Mayor.
THE MAYOR (_to the Miller and his Son_). Why, you two fellows are better
able to carry the poor donkey than he you! Say you not so, my Clerks?
FIRST CLERK (_bowing_). Just so, my lord Mayor.
SECOND CLERK (_bowing_). Even so, my lord Mayor.
MILLER. Come, my son, to please them, we'll carry the donkey.
[_They dismount and try to lift the donkey. This frightens the poor beast.
He tries to get away, and falls over the bridge into the deep river._]
MILLER (_weeping_). I have tried to please every one! I have pleased no
one!
SON (_weeping_). And we have lost our donkey in the bargain!
[Illustration: "WE HAVE LOST OUR DONKEY"]
EACH IN HIS OWN PLACE
TIME: _yesterday_.
PLACE: _in a tiny house_.
* * * * *
THE STRAW _who brings in the wood_.
THE COAL _who makes the fire_.
THE SNOWFLAKE _who draws the water_.
THE SUGAR LOAF _who lays the table_.
THE SAUSAGE _who cooks the meals_.
* * * * *
[_The tiny kitchen is seen. The_ SAUSAGE _is stirring the pot. The_ COAL
_is tending the fire. The_ SUGAR LOAF _is laying the table. Enter_ STRAW
_with a load of wood._]
STRAW (_throwing down wood_). Think you'll need more wood for the dinner,
Sausage?
[_Sausage does not answer. She gets into the pot to flavor the
vegetables._]
COAL (_whispers to Straw_). Sausage is quite put out.
STRAW. What's the trouble?
COAL. No one knows.
[_Enter_ SNOWFLAKE _with a pail of water._]
SNOWFLAKE (_looking about_). Where's Sausage?
STRAW. She is flavoring the vegetables.
[_Sausage comes out of the pot._]
SNOWFLAKE. Here is the water, Sausage.
[_Sausage does not answer._]
SNOWFLAKE (_speaking louder_). Will you come for the water, Sausage?
SAUSAGE (_sharply_). No, madam, I will not!
THE OTHERS (_with surprise_). Sausage!
SAUSAGE. I've been slave here long enough!
THE OTHERS (_as before_). Sister Sausage!
SAUSAGE. I mean just what I say!
SNOWFLAKE. Have I not done my share of the work?
COAL. Have I not done my share?
STRAW. Have I not done my share?
SUGAR LOAF. And have I not done my share?
SAUSAGE. Please to tell me what you do.
STRAW. I bring in wood that Coal may make the fire.
COAL. I make the fire that the pot may boil.
SNOWFLAKE. I draw the water and bring it from the brook.
SUGAR LOAF. I lay the table nicely.
SAUSAGE. What do I? Eh? What do I? I must stand over the fire. I must not
only stir the dinner, I must flavor it with myself. For each of you there
is one duty. For me there are plainly three.
STRAW. But, sister--
SAUSAGE (_interrupting_). Don't "sister" me!
SNOWFLAKE. Sausage, dear, would you break up our pretty home?
SUGAR LOAF. And we all so happy here!
SAUSAGE. There must be a change! Some one else can stand over the fire--can
stir the pot--can flavor the vegetables.
COAL. If I flavored them, they could not be eaten.
SAUSAGE. That's what you're always saying, but I'm not so sure of it.
SNOWFLAKE. If I stirred the pot, 't would be the end of me.
SAUSAGE. Yes, you say that often enough, but I'm not so sure that it is
true.
STRAW. Should I stand over the fire, I'd be no more.
SAUSAGE (_scornfully_). Excuses! Excuses!
SUGAR LOAF. 'T is plain that I should not get into the pot.
SAUSAGE. And why not, Miss? why not?
SUGAR LOAF. 'T would be good-by for me, if I should!
SAUSAGE. Excuses! Excuses! I say there must be a change! 'T is I who will
bring the wood or draw the water.
COAL. But, Sausage, you should stay within.
SAUSAGE. Not I, sir! I'll out of the pot and out of the house, I will! I'll
see a bit of the world, I will!
SUGAR LOAF (_sighing_). Well, if she will, she will!
SAUSAGE (_getting slips_). Come, now, and draw for it.
[_She holds the slips for the others to draw._]
STRAW (_drawing; reading from slip_). "Who gets this must make the fire."
SUGAR LOAF (_drawing; reading from slip_). "Who gets this must draw the
water."
SNOWFLAKE (_drawing; reading from slip_). "Who gets this must stir the pot
and flavor it with herself."
COAL (_drawing; reading from slip_). "Who gets this must lay the table
nicely."
SAUSAGE (_reading from last slip_). "Who gets this must bring the wood."
Well, that pleases me! Straw, see if the fire needs wood.
(_Straw hesitates._)
Come, come, do your duty!
[_Straw crosses the hearth and looks into the fire. He is very careful, but
the fire reaches him and he is gone in a puff!_]
SNOWFLAKE. Poor Straw! Well, 't is my duty to stir the pot and to flavor it
with myself.
[_She crosses to the hearth, but just as she reaches it, she disappears
without so much as a cry._]
SUGAR LOAF. Poor Snowflake! Well, 't is my duty to draw the water.
[_She forgets that the pail is full, falls into it, and is seen no more._]
COAL. Poor Sugar Loaf! Well, 't is my duty to lay the table nicely.
[_He forgets that he is still burning from having lately tended the fire.
As he places the plates, the tablecloth catches fire and wraps itself
around him._]
COAL (_from inside the burning cloth_). This is the end of me!
SAUSAGE (_weeping_). Dear me! Dear me! Who would have thought 't would turn
out so badly! Well, 't is my duty to bring in wood.
[_She opens the door and is face to face with a hungry dog who is sniffing
about._]
DOG. Ah, I thought you'd be coming out soon!
SAUSAGE (_pleased_). Do you want to see me, sir?
DOG. Why, yes, I've been waiting for you.
SAUSAGE. How good to be out in the world! They always said my place was
within.
DOG. They did, eh? Well, just to please them, I'll put you there.
[_He swallows her quickly, which ends both Sister Sausage and our story._]
WHAT THE GOODMAN DOES IS ALWAYS RIGHT
SCENE I
TIME: _early one morning_.
PLACE: _a very old farmhouse_.
* * * * *
THE GOODMAN.
HIS WIFE.
* * * * *
[_The_ GOODMAN _and his_ WIFE _are seated in their spare room because it is
Fair-day._]
WIFE. Yes, I think it would be as well to sell our horse. Or, as you say,
we might exchange him for something more useful.
GOODMAN. What shall we exchange him for?
WIFE. You know best, Goodman. Whatever you do will be right.
GOODMAN (_starting out_). It is Fair-day. I will ride into town and see
what can be done.
WIFE. Wait till I fasten your neckerchief! You shall have a pretty double
bow this time, for you are going to the Fair.
(_She ties the neckerchief. The Goodman starts out._)
Wait till I have smoothed your hat!
(_She smooths his old hat._)
Now you are ready.
GOODMAN (_going_). Be at the window, Wife.
WIFE (_nodding_). Yes, surely, and I will wave at you as you ride by.
SCENE II
TIME: _two hours later_.
PLACE: _near the toll-gate on the road to the Fair_.
* * * * *
THE GOODMAN.
FIRST PEASANT.
SECOND PEASANT.
THIRD PEASANT.
TOLL-KEEPER.
HOSTLER.
* * * * *
[_The_ GOODMAN _is seen riding his horse. Enter, from a country lane, a_
PEASANT, _driving a cow._]
GOODMAN (_stopping; calling_). Halloo, there--you with the cow!
PEASANT (_stopping_). Yes, Goodman.
GOODMAN. Your cow gives good milk, I am certain.
PEASANT (_nodding_). None richer in this country!
GOODMAN. A horse is of more value than a cow, but I don't care for that. A
cow will be more useful to me; so if you like, we'll exchange.
PEASANT. To be sure I will. Here is your cow.
GOODMAN. Here is your horse.
[_The Peasant goes off riding the horse. A_ SECOND PEASANT, _driving a
sheep, enters from a field near by._]
GOODMAN (_sees him and calls_). Halloo, there--you with the sheep!
SECOND PEASANT (_stopping_). Yes, Goodman.
GOODMAN. I should like to have that sheep.
SECOND PEASANT. She is a good, fat sheep.
GOODMAN. There is plenty of grass for her by our fence at home, and in the
winter we could keep her in the room with us.
SECOND PEASANT. Do you wish to buy her?
GOODMAN. Will you take my cow in exchange?
SECOND PEASANT. I am willing. Here is your sheep.
GOODMAN. Here is your cow.
[_The second Peasant goes off driving the cow. Enter, from a farmyard near
by, a_ THIRD PEASANT _carrying a goose._]
GOODMAN. What a heavy creature you have there!
THIRD PEASANT (_stopping_). She has plenty of feathers and plenty of fat.
GOODMAN. She would look well paddling in the water at our place.
THIRD PEASANT (_stopping_). She would look well in any place!
GOODMAN. She would be very useful to my wife. She could make all sorts of
profit out of her.
THIRD PEASANT. Indeed she could, Goodman!
GOODMAN. How often she has said,--"If now we only had a goose!"
THIRD PEASANT. Well, this goose is for sale.
GOODMAN. I will give my sheep for your goose and thanks into the bargain.
THIRD PEASANT. I am willing; here is your goose.
GOODMAN. Here is your sheep.
[_The Peasant goes off with the sheep. The Goodman discovers a hen in the_
TOLL-KEEPER'S _potato field._]
GOODMAN (_calling_). That's the finest fowl I ever saw, Toll-keeper!
TOLL-KEEPER. You're right about that, Goodman.
GOODMAN. She's finer than our pastor's brood-hen! Upon my word she is! I
should like to have that fowl!
TOLL-KEEPER. She is for sale.
GOODMAN. I think it would be a good exchange if I could get her for my
goose.
TOLL-KEEPER. Well, it wouldn't be a bad thing.
GOODMAN. Then here is your goose.
TOLL-KEEPER. Here is your fowl.
[_Enter a_ HOSTLER _carrying a sack._]
GOODMAN (_to Hostler_). What have you in that sack, friend?
HOSTLER. Rotten apples--to feed the pigs with.
GOODMAN. Why, that will be a terrible waste. I should like to take them
home to my wife.
HOSTLER (_astonished_). To your wife?
GOODMAN (_nodding_). You see, last year our old apple tree bore only one
apple, which we kept in the cupboard till it was quite rotten. It was
always property, my wife said.
HOSTLER. What will you give me for the sackful? Your wife would then have a
great deal of property.
GOODMAN. Well, I will give you my fowl in exchange.
HOSTLER. Here is your sack of rotten apples.
GOODMAN. Here is your fowl.
[_The Hostler goes with the fowl._]
TOLL-KEEPER. Toll, Goodman!
GOODMAN. I will not go to the Fair to-day. I have done a great deal of
business, and I am tired. I will go back home.
SCENE III
TIME: _two hours later_.
PLACE: _the old farmhouse_.
* * * * *
THE GOODMAN.
HIS WIFE.
* * * * *
[_Enter the_ GOODMAN, _carrying the sack. The_ WIFE _waits for him in the
spare room, because he has been away._]
GOODMAN. Well, Wife, I've made the exchange.
WIFE. Ah, well, you always understand what you're about.
GOODMAN. I got a cow in exchange for the horse.
WIFE. Good! Now we shall have plenty of milk and butter and cheese on the
table. That was a fine exchange!
GOODMAN. Yes, but I changed the cow for a sheep.
WIFE. Ah, better still! We have just enough grass for a sheep.--Ewe's milk
and cheese! Woolen jackets and stockings! The cow could not give all those.
How you think of everything!