Up in the sky are the firefly stars-- Sleep, kittikins, sleep! Father will catch them in crystal jars-- Sleep--kittikins--sleep! (_She lays the babe in its crib, the while softly humming the tune. Then she draws the screen about the bed. Meantime she casts anxious glances at the moody Pierrot. The babe asleep, she runs to Pierrot, kneeling at his side._) PIERRETTE Tired, sweetheart? PIERROT (_indifferently_) Oh--I guess so. PIERRETTE And famished, isn’t that it? Kettle not boiling, And table unset; And hungry man waiting For slow Pierrette! It’ll all be on the table, dear, in just the littlest minute. PIERROT Oh, it’s not supper. PIERRETTE Not supper? PIERROT No. PIERRETTE (_solicitously_) You haven’t caught cold, Pierrot? You know I told you to wear your woolen muffler and put on your rain shoes. For a man of your superior intelligence, you are _so_ careless! PIERROT (_getting up with irritation and walking away_) Oh, let me alone, Pierrette! You wouldn’t understand. Get some supper for yourself. I don’t want any. (_She looks at him troubled for a moment. Then she runs to him, puts her hands on his breast._) PIERRETTE Pierrot. PIERROT Well? PIERRETTE (_pointing an accusing finger at him slowly_) You--haven’t--been--to--see--your--bank--account--again? (_Pierrot shakes his head gloomily._) PIERRETTE Oh yes you have! Don’t deny it! And worrying yourself to death about expenses. But Pierrot--things aren’t nearly as bad as you think they are. I’m doing all my own work--even the washing and the ironing--and Pierrot!--I’ve got a scheme! We’ll take a boarder! PIERROT (_disgusted_) Boarder! Ugh! PIERRETTE Why not, sweetheart? Of course, we’d have to talk to him at mealtimes, I suppose. And you couldn’t kiss me across the table as you used to.... (_Suddenly, with a catch_) Do you know, Pierrot, you haven’t kissed me across the table for--oh--ever so long! PIERROT (_struggling with himself_) Pierrette.... PIERRETTE Yes, dear. PIERROT (_trying to get it out--then in despair_) Oh, what’s the use. I can’t tell it to you. PIERRETTE (_troubled_) Why, what is it, Pierrot? You’ve lost something? PIERROT (_quickly_) Yes--that’s it. I’ve lost something--the only thing I had, Pierrette--my song! PIERRETTE Ah, the silly people didn’t laugh to-day--that’s it? Silly, silly people, Staring at a steeple;-- And you’re all in the dumps, Pierrot? Isn’t that the trouble? PIERROT They didn’t laugh to-day, Pierrette; and they didn’t laugh yesterday. They haven’t laughed for a long time--not as they used to. (_Most gloomily_) And three of my songs have come back from the editors! PIERRETTE (_defending him_) But who cares for editors, Pierrot? They’re such stupid creatures! Some day you’ll write a great song that everybody’ll love; and then you’ll see all the foolish little editors bringing you velvets and gold. PIERROT (_in gloom_)