CHARACTERS.
| Mr. Smith. |
| Mrs. Smith. |
| Willie (five years old). |
| Mrs. Ashton. |
| Miss Ashton. |
| Bridget. |
Scene I.—Mrs. Smith’s parlor. Table in centre of the room. Mrs. Smith is engaged in reading a letter. Her husband, L., is looking over the evening paper. He lays it down.
Mr. Smith. Well, Mrs. Smith, what is the news? You look as sober as if you had lost all your friends.
Mrs. Smith. It is a serious matter. This letter informs me that my sister Sarah is sick, and it is doubtful if she recovers. I ought to go and see her, but I am afraid I shall not be able to do so.
Mr. S. Why, what is the difficulty? I see nothing to prevent your going. I’m sure you haven’t much to do. There are only three of us in the family, and Bridget does all the work.
Mrs. S. Yes, Bridget will do very well, if there’s some one to look after her. But she isn’t one to be depended upon. I shouldn’t dare to leave Willie with her.
Mr. S. I think she would get along well enough.
Mrs. S. I shouldn’t be willing to go under any such circumstances.
Mr. S. Would you be any better satisfied if I should stay at home and look after things?
Mrs. S. Oh, yes, certainly. But could you leave the office for a whole day?
Mr. S. I think so.
Mrs. S. Well, then, I will go on the first train to-morrow morning.
Mr. S. You needn’t hurry back. We shall get along famously, I am sure; so you’d better stay till the late train, if you have the least desire to.
Mrs. S. I should like to do so. That would give me a nice long day there.
Mr. S. (rising). If you take the first train we must be up betimes. What time do the cars leave here?
Mrs. S. At eight o’clock, I believe.
Mr. S. I will go now and write a note to Mr. Ferguson, saying I shall not be at the office to-morrow.
(Exit.)
Mrs. S. (sola). This is a good chance for me. I want very much to see Sarah. And then Mr. Smith is constantly telling me that I can’t have much to do. It will be a good thing for him to have a little experience in house-keeping. I think one day’s trial will be sufficient to satisfy him.
(Curtain falls.)
Scene II. Dining-room at Mr. Smith’s.
Bridget, R. C. (washing dishes). An’ what’s Misther Smith at home to-day for, I wonder? Didn’t the missis think she left me enough to do, widout havin’ him round? I was goin’ to invite Ann Malony to come and pass the afthernoon and take tay wid me; but how can I do it wid him spyin’ round?
(Enter Mr. Smith, L.)
Mr. S. Well, Bridget, we are left to keep house all alone to-day.
B. (sullenly). Yis, sir.
Mr. S. What did Mrs. Smith say we were to have for dinner?
B. Cold roast beef and rice puddin’; an’ I was to make some hot biskit.
Mr. S. It won’t take very long to do that, will it?
B. (hoping for leave of absence after dinner). No, sir, I could do that much in an hour.
Mr. S. Well, Bridget, Mrs. Smith is to be away all day, and I thought we’d clean the kitchen closet while she’s gone, and so surprise her when she comes home.
B. An’ d’ye think I’ll begin a big job like that while she’s away? She always helps me at cleanin’-house time.
Mr. S. Oh, well, I’ll help you. I’ll take down the dishes, and you can wash and wipe them, and wash out the closet. Then I’ll help you put them back again.
B. Axin’ yer pardon, sir, I can’t do it.
Mr. S. What! do you refuse to obey orders? (Sarcastically.) I suppose you’ll expect to receive your wages just the same.
B. Av coorse I shall. I never refuses to do anything the missis requires, but I aint goin’ to be ordered round by a man.
Mr. S. If you’re not willing to do what I tell you, the sooner you find another place, the better.
B. (angrily). I’m goin’ to lave the house this blessed minnit, so I am. It’s Bridget McFinnigan that won’t be imposed upon by the likes uv you, or any other man! (She takes off her apron hastily, throws it over a chair, and leaves the room, R., full of indignation.)
Mr. S. Well, I’m afraid I’ve got myself into trouble. I’d better have waited till after dinner before speaking about cleaning. But, as it seems I’ve got to do what I can, alone, I might as well finish washing the breakfast dishes. (Takes Bridget’s apron, and ties it on loosely. He begins to wipe a plate, but it falls from his hands and is broken.) There goes a plate. I must go and throw it into the stove, or Mrs. Smith will be twitting me about breaking things. (Goes to the next room, R., where a stove is supposed to be, and leaves the broken plate. Returns and commences washing dishes again.) After all, there isn’t much work about keeping house. It’s astonishing how these women can employ all their time! Perhaps it is better that Bridget left me as she did to-day, as now I can show Mrs. Smith how easily housework may be disposed of.
Willie (enters, L., with torn clothes, and rubbing his eyes with his hands). Ur-r-r-r, ur-r-r-r, (louder) ur-r-r-r!
Mr. S. What’s the matter? What’s the matter?
W. (crying). Sammy Snow set his dog on to me, and hurt me. Ur-r-r-r!
Mr. S. Well, be a brave boy, and don’t cry.
W. (crying). Give me some raisins, and I won’t.
Mr. S. I don’t know where mamma keeps them.
W. I do; it’s in the kitchen closet.
Mr. S. Does mamma give them to you?
W. Sometimes, and sometimes I get them myself.
Mr. S. Well, you can get a very few. Raisins are not good for little boys.
W. (aside). I guess I’ll have enough raisins this time. (Goes out, R.)
Mr. S. I ought to finish washing the dishes, but perhaps I’d better see about dinner, first. Let me see. We were to have rice pudding. I haven’t time to make an elaborate pudding. I think I’ll just boil some rice. That is always good.
(He goes toward the table, but steps on his apron and falls. He reaches forward to take hold of the table, but, instead, grasps the paper of rice, and both go on to the floor, the rice scattering in all directions. He gets up, rubbing his bruised arm, and looks ruefully at the scene before him; just then Willie comes in crying.)
W. There aint any raisins there, ur-r-r! Papa, what was I crying for, ur-r-r!
Mr. S. (coaxing him). Don’t cry, Willie, but come and help papa pick up this rice, and you shall have an orange when I go to the store.
W. I want it now.
Mr. S. I haven’t got one now; but here’s an apple, and I’ll give you an orange this afternoon. (Willie takes the apple. They gather up some of the rice, leaving the greater part of it on the floor.) I wonder how much of this I ought to boil. There are only two of us. I think a quart will be enough. (Measures it.) I don’t know but it ought to be picked over. (Looks at watch.) No, I shan’t have time. Of course it’s clean enough; the floor is swept every day. (Goes out, R., with rice; returns.) The next thing is biscuit. That’s an easy matter. I have only to mix flour and water together, and put it into the oven. (Pours flour into a pan, and adds water.) I believe it is customary to knead it well with the hands. (Puts his hands in, and stirs ingredients together. At that moment a ring is heard at the door.) I declare if that isn’t the door-bell. But I shan’t answer it,—not if they ring a dozen times.
W. (who has peeped out of the window, L.) Papa, it’s the Ashtons! (An aristocratic family who have never before called on the Smiths.)
Mr. S. Is it? (Thinks for a moment; the bell rings again.) Willie, can’t you go to the door, and show the ladies into the parlor? Then come out here, and I will go in and see them. Stop a moment, your face isn’t clean. (The bell rings again.) No matter; come here and wipe it on my apron. Now go, like a good boy.
(Willie goes to answer the bell, but, being a little confused, shows the visitors into the dining-room, L. Mrs. and Miss Ashton look around the room and exchange significant glances.)
Mr. S. (discomposed, takes his hands out of the dough, and wipes them on his apron). Willie, why did you bring the ladies into this room? I beg your pardon, ladies; won’t you go into the parlor? I will be in directly.
Mrs. A. (superciliously). Thank you; but we called to see Mrs. Smith. Is she at home?
Mr. S. No, she is not. Her sister is dangerously ill, and has sent for her. She will be at home this evening.
Mrs. A. Then we will call again (significantly), at a more auspicious time.
Mr. S. I trust you will excuse my appearance. Soon after Mrs. Smith was gone, the servant left me and—
Mrs. A. Ah, yes! I understand—Good morning! (Aside to her daughter.) What a low family! I shall not think of calling again.
(Exeunt, L.)
Mr. S. (provoked). Why didn’t you take those ladies into the parlor, as I told you, Willie?
Willie (terrified). I didn’t mean to, papa. Don’t scold. I won’t do so again.
Mr. S. Well, see that you don’t. (Soliloquizes.) I wonder if I ought to put this bread in another pan before baking. I guess, however, this one will do just as well. I’ve got dishes enough to wash already. I must put this bread into the oven, and look after the rice. It is fortunate we have some cold meat for dinner, as I haven’t time to cook any. (Goes out with bread; returns.) I must pile up those dishes and set the table for dinner. Then I can wash all the dishes at once. Who would think that that rice would have swelled so? There is nearly a peck of it already, and it is still rising. Half a cup full would have been enough. But, no matter, we shan’t have to cook any again very soon. I declare I must go and see to the bread; it must be done by this time. (Goes out; returns, and finishes setting the table.) The bread is all done. It didn’t rise much, and, somehow, I can’t get it out of the pan, but it seems to have baked well. Perhaps I ought to have buttered the pan. (Suddenly.) There, I forgot to boil some potatoes. Well, it can’t be helped. At all events, we’ve got plenty of rice, and that must take its place.
(Exit, R.)
(He brings in a small dish of meat, the pan of bread, and afterwards an enormous soup tureen heaped up with boiled rice. The tureen may be nearly filled up with any other substance, and the rice placed on top, causing an observer to think it is entirely filled with rice.)
Mr. S. (goes to the door, L., and calls). Willie! Willie! dinner is ready.
W. (entering). I’m as hungry as a bear.
Mr. S. Well, we’ve got plenty to eat. (Helps him to meat and rice.)
W. Isn’t there any potatoes?
Mr. S. No, but here’s some bread. (Tries to cut the bread, but does not succeed. At that moment the door opens, and Mrs. Smith walks in, L. She glances at the table, and bursts into a laugh.)
Mrs. S. What have you got for dinner, Mr. Smith? I think you must be fond of rice!
Mr. S. (rising). Don’t say a word, my dear, don’t say a word! I’ve had trials enough this morning to drive a man crazy. Say anything you please about the drudgery of housework, and I will agree with you. I’ve had an experience this forenoon which I shall not forget in a lifetime!
Mrs. S. If it causes you to be more considerate in future, I shall not regret having left you. I think you must have done something, judging from the appearance of the room. (Looks around.)
Mr. S. And I suppose you think the prospect is, that there is still something left to do. But as you have got home so early, I think I’ll go down to the office a while. I have a slight headache, and think a change of scene would benefit me.
(Exit, L.)
W. (rushing to door). Don’t forget my orange, papa.
(Curtain falls.)