MARY (_angrily_).
[Illustration: O] Tommy, you deceiver!
You've turned a regular thiever:
I've let the light in on your deeds,
You needn't sneak away.
You thought it mighty pleasant
To devour that dainty pheasant;
Which cook and I for breakfast meant
To have this very day.
TOM (_calmly_).
Miss Mary, I assure you
You're entirely mistaken:
I was finishing my supper--
Don't call me thief or brute,
But please be so obliging
As to broil a slice of bacon
As my reward for self-control:
I haven't touched the fruit.
MARY (_sneeringly_).
For that there is good reason,
You thing of craft and treason;
You did not touch the grapes, because
The grapes you do not like.
You get no slice of bacon
From me, since you have taken
The bird I'd set my heart upon.
Away, or I will strike!
TOM (_derisively_).
Be patient, Mistress Mary,
Of broomsticks I am wary:
The door is open, and I see
What you would now be at.
MARY (_angrily_).
Away! obey my order,
You sneaking, base marauder!
I'll teach you to steal birds again!
Be off! Take that, and--Scat!
[_Exit Tommy at double-quick time, followed by
Mary, who strikes with the broom, but does not
hit._]