CXII
A little breathing time is given by:—
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Good morning to you, mother;
Good morning to you, daughter;
What is your intention?
I want to be a teacher.
You shan’t be a teacher.
I bound to be a teacher.
Jump shamador, me darling.
What is your intention?
I goin’ to be a doctor.
You shan’t be a doctor.
I bound to be a doctor.
You shan’t be a doctor.
I will be a doctor.
Jump Shamador, me darling.
There is no dancing here. The mother walks round inside the ring, the various members of which she addresses in turn. “You shan’t” is emphasised by an uplifted arm swept vigorously downwards and a stamp of the foot. The answers go through the various professions until it is felt that there is a want of something more exciting, which is supplied by:—