Dawn—Birds awaken.
Enter Woodcutter.
Woodcutter. (Singing)
‘As I went down to Shrewsbury Town
I came by luck . . .’
(He sees the Tramp’s corpse) Hallo—what’s this? Boozed, is he? Here—wake up, mate. My word he’s dead. Poor old chap. . . . Well, anyway, he’ll have no more trouble.
Enter a Woman, carrying a new-born baby.
Woman. Morning, Peter Wood. Why, whatever’s the matter?
[Church bells.
Woodcutter. He’s dead.
Woman. Dead? Who is it?
Woodcutter. Only a tramp by the look of him.
Woman. It gives me a turn. It’s bad luck, you know. Here am I taking my sister’s baby to be baptized, and—ugh!
Woodcutter. One’s born and another dies. No great matter, missus.
Woman. It means bad luck.
Woodcutter. What’s death? There’s always people enough. (Chucking the baby under the chin) Gi-gi-gi-gigg, baby! Wait till you’re grown up!
Woman. I hope he’ll be better off than we are, that’s all. These taxes!
Woodcutter. Plenty of work—that’s what he’ll need.
[Voices of School Children approaching.
Woman. Here come the girls on their way to school. Quick, Peter Wood—cover up that! They mustn’t see it, poor dears.
