BAR. Then we'll have a row. [Goes off indifferently, chases away the chickens, outside.]
KNEIR. Then we'll--such a lazy boy, I wish he'd never been born--Sponger!--Are you going so soon, Miss?
CLEM. I am curious to know what's happened on the Anna.
KNEIR. Yes--I was on the way there--but it takes so long--and I've had my fill of waiting on the pier--if that pier could only talk. Have you finished my brother's portrait?
CLEM. Tomorrow. I want to make a drawing of Barend also--just as he came in with the basket on his shoulders.
CLEM. He doesn't seem to get much petting around here.
KNEIR. [Annoyed.] Pet him! I should say not! The sooner I get rid of him, the better! [Through the window.] Chase them away! Kischt! Kischt!
BAR. [Outside.] All that yelling makes the rooster afraid.
KNEIR. Afraid! He takes after you, then! Kischt!
CLEM. Hahaha! Hahaha! Say, he's enjoying himself there on Ari's roof.
JO. [Coming through the door at left. Brown apron--gold head pieces on the black band around her head.] Good day.
KNEIR. The chickens are out again! The rooster is sitting on Ari's roof.
JO. [Laughing merrily.] Hahaha! He's not going to lay eggs there!
KNEIR. [Crossly.] Hear her talk! She knows well enough we almost came to blows with Ari because the hens walked in his potato patch.
JO. I let them out myself, old cross patch--Truus dug their potatoes yesterday.
JO. What am I doing now? Oh, Miss--she would die if she couldn't grumble; she even keeps it up in her sleep. Last night she swore out loud in her dreams. Hahaha! Never mind! scold all you like; you're a good old mother just the same. [To Barend, who enters the room.] Ach, you poor thing! Is the rooster setting on the roof? And does he refuse to come down?
JO. I'll wager if you pet the hens he will come down of himself from jealousy. Hahaha! He looks pale with fear.
JO. Say, Aunt, you should make a baker of him. His little bare feet in the rye flour. Hahaha!
BAR. You can all----[Goes angrily off at left.]
JO. [Calling after him.] The poor little fellow!
CLEM. Now, stop teasing him. Are you digging potatoes?
JO. Tja; since four o'clock this morning. Nothing--Aunt--all rotten.
KNEIR. We poor people are surely cursed--rain--rain--the crops had to rot--they couldn't be saved--and so we go into the winter--the cruel winter--Ach,--Ach,--Ach!