[_Chord. The Chorus flee in dismay, as_ JACK _enters with a reckless swagger_. _Song_--JACK PARKER. I’m loafing about, and I very much doubt If my excellent Ma is aware that I’m out; My time I employ in attempts to annoy, And I’m not what you’d call an agreeable boy! I shoe the cats with walnut-shells; Tin cans to curs I tie; Ring furious knells at front-door bells-- Then round the corner fly! ’Neath donkeys’ tails I fasten furze, Or timid horsemen scare; If chance occurs, I stock with burrs My little Sister’s hair! [_The Bull shakes his head reprovingly._ Such tricks give me joy without any alloy, But they do not denote an agreeable boy! [_As_ JACK PARKER _concludes, the Bull ducks cautiously below the half-door, while_ LYDIA _conceals herself behind the pump_, L.C. _Jack_ (_wandering about stage discontentedly_). I thought at least there’d be _some_ beasts to badger here! Call this a farm--there ain’t a blooming spadger here! [_Approaches stall--Bull raises head suddenly._ A bull! This is a lark I’ve long awaited! He’s in a stable, so he should be baited. [_The Bull shows symptoms of acute depression at this jeu de mots_; LYDIA _comes forward indignantly_. _Lydia._ I _can’t_ stand by and see that poor bull suffer! Excitement’s sure to make his beef taste tougher! [_The Bull emphatically corroborates this statement._ Be warned by Miss Jane Taylor; fractured skulls Invariably come from teasing bulls! So let that door alone, nor lift the latchet; For if the bull gets out--why, then you’ll catch it. _Jack._ A fractured skull? Yah, don’t believe a word of it! [_Raises latchet: chord; Bull comes slowly out, and crouches ominously_; JACK _retreats, and takes refuge on top of pump: the Bull, after scratching his back with his off foreleg, makes a sudden rush at_ LYDIA. _Lydia_ (_as she evades it_). Here, help!--it’s chasing me!--it’s too absurd of it! Go away, Bull--with _me_ you have no quarrel! [_The Bull intimates that he is acting from a deep sense of duty._ _Lydia_ (_impatiently_). You stupid thing, you’re _ruining_ the moral! [_The Bull persists obstinately in his pursuit._ _Jack_ (_from top of pump_). Well dodged, Miss Banks! although the Bull I’ll back! [_Enter_ Farm-hands. _Lydia._ Come quick--this Bull’s mistaking me for Jack! _Jack._ He knows his business best, I shouldn’t wonder. _Farm-hands_ (_philosophically_). He ain’t the sort of Bull to make a blunder. [_They look on._ _Lydia_ (_panting._) Such violent exercise will soon exhaust me! [_The Bull comes behind her._ Oh, Bull, it _is_ unkind of you ... you’ve _tossed_ me!