Flick. I've heard that children are quite tame;—and they can talk!
All. [In rapture.] Oh!
Blick. But I tell you this isn't a child, it's a girl. I don't think girls can talk. [They all heave a sigh of disappointment.]
Flick. I wish she'd stay with us just so we could look at her.
Blick. She won't.
Glick. Why not?
Blick. Of course she won't. Are we handsome, or young, or tall? In fact, aren't we dwarfs? [They all hang their heads.]
Flick. But if we didn't tell her that?
Blick. Flick, I wonder at you! Besides, she might find out.
Glick. She's beautifully white and clean. Look, she's had the broom; she's been trying to sweep.
