Mama Mousekewitz: Oh, my little boy, back from the dead. America, what a place.
Papa Mousekewitz: My Fievel. I thought I would never see you again.
Fievel Mousekewitz: Never say never, Papa.
Papa Mousekewitz: Oh, I nearly forgot. Here, Fievel, your hat.
[the hat drops as before; Fievel adjusts the hat with his ears]:
Mama Mousekewitz: The hat, it fits!
Papa Mousekewitz: My son! Now, you are a mouse.

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