_Mrs. Cricket._ Lend it me, darling--Oh, daddy--I'm so pleased. Rattle it.
_Mrs. Cricket._ (_Singing_) Cricket, cricket, cricket!
_Mr. Cricket._ Now I must run round a little,--let people know I am here.
_Mrs. Cricket._ (_Singing_) And 'Cricket, cricket, cricket, You pretty little thing ...'
_Mr. Cricket._ I must get some introductions, fix up orders, have a look round. Give me the rattle, I'll use it on my way.
_Mrs. Cricket._ And what about me? I want it.
_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.
_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 of yer.
_Mrs. Cricket._ Who's there, a beetle?--You don't bite?
_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!
_Chrysalis._ I will accomplish such deeds.
_Mrs. Beetle._ Isn't my husband here? Oh, the stupid man. Where is our pile?
_Mrs. Cricket._ Your pile? Can we play with it? Do let me see it.
_Mrs. Beetle._ It's nothing to play with, it's our future, our nest-egg, our capital. My husband, the clumsy creature, has gone off with it.
_Mrs. Cricket._ Oh dear, I hope he hasn't run away from you.
_Mrs. Cricket._ He's away on business. Cricket! Cricket!
_Mrs. Beetle._ Fancy him leaving you all alone like that, poor thing, and you--(_Whispers_)--aren't you?
_Mrs. Beetle._ So young, too. And aren't you making a pile?
_Mrs. Beetle._ A pile--for you and him and your family. That's for your future--for your whole life.