MARY ANN. Yes, mum, but I don't like me sash at all, at all. Folks will all know it's a bureau tidy, it's got fringe and everything. MRS. MULLIGAN. Oh, ho, me fine young lady. I suppose yeez want a peek-a-boo dress all trimmed with mayonnaise ruffles down the bias, do you? It's lucky for you I found that tidy in the wash, so it is. And don't yeez eat too much or breathe hard or ye'll bust it, and then where'll you be at? BRIDGET. Maw, Mary Ann's chewing her apron. MRS. MULLIGAN (_at the wash-tub_). Mary Ann Mulligan, take that apron out'n your mouth. I niver saw such a girl to be always chewing something. It's first yer dress and then yer apron or your petticoat, whatever happens to be your topmost garment. Clothes were not made to chew. _Enter_ NORA _with_ TEDDY, MELISSA _and_ MICKY, _from L._ NORA. Here they are, maw, all ready for the party. MRS. MULLIGAN. Are ye sure they're all clean? NORA. I am that. They've been scrubbed until me two arms ache. And Micky's had a bath in the rain-barrel. MICKY. I have that, and I don't want another one, either. MRS. MULLIGAN. All yeez sit down and let me look ye over. NORA. Have ye finished the washing, maw? MRS. MULLIGAN. For the prisint, yes. I have more important duties to perform. Now, first and foremost, don't walk pigeon-toed. Bridget, have ye got a clane handkerchief? BRIDGET. Yis, mum. MRS. MULLIGAN. Well, don't forget to use it if the necessity arises, and you'd better set next to Peter Pan so's he can use it, too. He's been kinder nosey all day, and I shouldn't wonder if he wasn't coming down with a cold in his head. How do you feel, Peter Pan? PETER PAN. Scwumptious. MRS. MULLIGAN. Micky Machree Mulligan, and what are yeez looking cross-eyed for? Do ye think it improves yer beauty? MICKY. I thought there was a speck of dirt on me nose. MRS. MULLIGAN. Well, there's not, and hold yer head up straight. PATSY. Maw, ain't it most time to go? MRS. MULLIGAN. It lacks two hours yet of the time, and Matsy ain't come back with the goat. Whatever's become of Shamus O'Brien I'd like to know. Which of yeez seen him last? NORA. I saw him this mornin'. He was eatin' a tin tomato can down in the alley. MRS. MULLIGAN. The poor thing! Now I suppose I'll have a sick goat on me hands on top of all me other troubles--and tomorrow's Christmas Day. BRIDGET. Maw, suppose they won't let us in the Sunday School at all, at all. We don't belong to that Sunday School. What'll we do then? MRS. MULLIGAN. Indade they'll not turn yeez away on Christmas Eve. I chose that Sunday School for yeez to attend because it's the largest and the most fashionable in town. Mrs. Beverly Brewster goes there, and wherever Mrs. Beverly Brewster goes, sure yeez can count on it, it's bound to be most fashionable and select. MARY ANN. But we never went there before. They'll think it's awfully nervy fer us to come buttin' in at their Christmas entertainment.