THE GOLDEN GOOSE.
Scene I. Father, Mother, Tom, and Jack. A room in a cottage.
Father.—What a bore it is I sprained my ankle in the wood.
Mother.—Aye! That indeed it is. If you can't manage to go and sell some more fagots at the market, we shall soon be starving.
F.—One of the boys will go instead of me.
Jack.—I'll go, Father, willingly.
Tom.—You, you stupid! what do you know of wood-cutting? you will be cutting down blackberry plants, or something, to make firewood of.
F.—Tom can go.
M.—What! Send that precious boy to stand in a damp wood all day!
T.—I must have a good lunch, then, to take with me. A mutton cutlet, a sausage, an apple tart—a hamper full of nice things.
M.—Of course you shall, my pretty dear.
F.—Well, I don't think there will be much work done—he will be much too busy with his sausage and apple tart.
T.—Well, Father, you don't want me to starve, I suppose!
F.—I think it would do you a great deal of good.
M.—Oh, fie! How can you be so cruel with the darling child!
F.—We'll wait and see how much work he can do, and if he doesn't succeed, Jack will have to go.
M.—Ah, Jack, it is a great pity you're too stupid to make yourself useful, or else you might have gone, and saved your dear brother the trouble.
J.—I could do it quite well.
M.—No, you wouldn't, you are a great deal too stupid. (To Tom.) Come, let me lace your boots for you, darling.
Curtain.
Scene II. A wood. Tom alone, a large hamper by his side.
T.—Well, this isn't such bad fun after all, as long as one can rest. I haven't chopped much wood yet, I thought I'd do it after luncheon. I shall feel so much stronger then, and be able to work twice as hard. Let me see, it must be time to lay the table. (Opens lid of hamper and looks in.) Ah, this does look good! Sausage rolls, chicken sandwiches, a salad, jam tarts, all kinds of nice things! I am so glad there is no one to share it with me! I How much nicer it is to lunch by one's self.
Voice.—Ahem! (From behind the tree.)
(Tom shuts the lid of the hamper quickly, and looks round.)
T.—What's that?
(The sound is repeated. He looks round. A little old man, dressed all in grey, with a pointed hat, appears.)
Grey Man.—Good morning, young sir.
T.—Good morning, old creature.
G. M.—You seem to be having a picnic all by yourself.
T.—Yes, fortunately I am all alone. I don't like picnics with other people.
G. M.—That's a pity. I was just going to ask if I might join you.
T.—You!
G. M.—Yes, the fact is I am a long way from my home, and I am hungry, and seeing that large hamper I thought you might be able to spare some food for the tired wayfarer.
T.—Well, I am sorry to say I can't; there happens to be just enough for myself in that hamper.
G. M.—What, can you not even spare me a crust of bread?
T.—No, I shall have to eat it up all myself in order to keep up my strength while I am cutting wood this afternoon.
G. M.—(Lifting up his hand and speaking in a loud, warning tone.) Take care, young man, lest your meal and your wood-cutting come to an untimely end. (He goes away.)
T.—Tiresome old creature! He's gone, at any-rate. Now I can lunch in peace. (Opens lid of hamper. Starts.) Oh, what has happened? Where has everything gone? My beautiful luncheon has disappeared! The sausage rolls have turned to sticks! (Throws out sticks, leaves, etc., as he speaks.) The salad into dead leaves! The chicken sandwiches and jam tart into brown paper! Oh, what an unfortunate youth I am! Now I shall have no luncheon. It is all because of that horrid grey man. He was an enchanter, I suppose, or a fairy of some kind. Why didn't he say so at once? Then I might have given him a piece of chicken. Well, it's too late now, I suppose. Perhaps I had better cut some wood, there's nothing else to do. There's a tree that would be easy enough.
(Goes out r. carrying his axe over his shoulder. A cry is heard.)
Oh, dear! Oh, dear me! (Comes in again holding his arm.) Oh, I've chopped my hand nearly off! Oh, what a day of misfortunes this is! I must go home and send for the doctor, while my mother makes me some jelly and arrowroot.
(Ties handkerchief round his neck as a sling. Puts left hand into it. Exit carrying hamper and axe.)
Curtain.
Scene. III. The same.
Enter Jack with a small basket.
J.—Ah, now I think I'll sit down and have my luncheon. Working so hard has made me rather hungry. (Looks off l.) That's a great heap of wood, I must say, to have cut in two hours. I wonder what my mother has put into the basket? Tom took such good things away with him yesterday—but my mother said she had nothing for me except some bones the dog had left, and some stale pieces of crust that had been thrown away. (Looks into basket.) Never mind, a good appetite and a good conscience make everything taste well. So here goes!
(Sits down. Draws handkerchief over his knees.)
Voice (Heard behind him.)—Ahem!
J.—(Looks round.) What's that? Somebody about? I am going to have a companion it seems.
G. M.—(Coming out.) Good morning, young gentleman.
J.—(Getting up and taking off his hat.) Good morning, sir.
G. M.—What! Were you picnicking alone in the wood?
J.—I was, yes.
G. M.—Do you object to be joined by a companion?
J.—On the contrary, I should like it—the more the merrier.
G. M.—To tell you the truth, I am very hungry. I have been out all day, and am far from my home.
J.—I only wish I had some food for you more worthy of your acceptance—but such as it is, you are heartily welcome to it. Pray take it all. There is not much, but what there is you are quite welcome to have—I can wait till I get home again.
G. M.—Generous youth! Your kindness of heart shall be rewarded. Look again at the contents of your basket, and you will find them better than you imagined.
J.—(Looking into the basket.) Oh, how exciting! What do I see? Mutton cutlets, cold partridge, cheese-cakes, grapes, bananas! Oh, how delightful! Now you will share with me, won't you?
(Holds out the basket to the old man.)
G. M.—No, my dear boy. I only asked you for some to prove you—and seeing how deserving you are, I will reward you still further. (Points off l. at the wood.) Take your axe and cut down that tree. You will find a bird at the root: she is yours. Farewell, and luck go with you.
(Exit.)
J.—Why, he must be a magician! What a delightful person to meet! I must go and cut down that tree at once. I'll just have a cheese-cake to keep me going.
(Crams a cheese-cake into his mouth and goes out. Sounds of chopping heard. Jack rushes in again with a golden goose in one hand and a nest with golden eggs in the other.)
J.—It was a golden goose, sitting on a nest of golden eggs! Oh, how splendid! Now my father need never cut wood again—we shall all be rich. I must rush home, and show them what I have found. (Exit hurriedly with the goose and the nest.)
Curtain.
Scene IV. Same as Scene I.
Father, Mother, Tom (lying on a couch).
M.—How are you, my dear boy? Feeling better?
T.—A little better. I think I could eat a jam puff now, and some almonds and raisins.
M.—You shall have them at once.
F.—In the meanwhile, I hope Jack is cutting more wood than you did, or I don't know what will happen.
M.—It's very unlikely that Jack should do anything better than Tom. If he has, it will be the first time it has ever happened.
Enter Jack.
F.—I think I hear him. Well, have you brought us back any wood?
J.—Indeed, I have. But first, I must show you this glorious bird—my golden goose!
M.—A golden goose! Where did you find it?
J.—It was sitting at the root of a tree I cut down.
M.—Why, Tom, how was it you didn't find it?
T.—Because of my accident, of course. If I hadn't hurt my hand I certainly should have found it in another minute.
J.—It was a little grey man with a pointed cap who told me where to look for it.
T.—(Aside.) Horrid little creature! I wish I had offered him some luncheon! (Aloud.) He told me all about it. He intended it for me, so you had better hand it over.
(Tom grasps at the goose. Jack pulls it away. Tom gets up with it.)
T.—What has happened to the thing? I can't get away from it!
M.—Oh, my dear boy, what can have happened!
(Tries to drag Tom away, but sticks.)
T.—Go away, Mother. Don't hold on to me any more.
M.—I can't get away. (Father tries to drag them away.)
M.—Go away, Father!
F.—I can't, I'm stuck fast.
M.—I knew something stupid would happen if Jack went into the wood! bringing birds you stick to like fly-paper instead of proper faggots.
J.—(Smiling.) You shouldn't have tried to take my goose away from me.
T.—Well, now, you have had your joke, call your goose off, please.
J.—I can't call it off! I don't know how.
(Enter Grey Man.)
G. M.—I am the only person who can do it, because I am a powerful magician, and that golden goose is mine.
M.—Yours!
G. M.—Yes, and I gave it to Jack to reward him for a good, hard-working, generous boy, instead of being a lazy, selfish, unmannerly one like his brother yonder.
T.—Of course, if I had known who you were, I should have been civil to you.
G. M.—I daresay, yes, but you will find it more useful as you go through life to be civil to strangers, even when you don't know who they are. And now Jack, come with me and you shall live in a beautiful palace, where you shall marry a princess. As for you, you may let go the golden goose for ever (they all fall back), for you will remain humble wood-cutters all your lives. And, remember, it is only the deserving—especially the polite—who find the Golden Goose.
Curtain.
[CINDERELLA.]
A Play in Four Scenes.
| CHARACTERS. | |
|---|---|
| THE MOTHER. | THE FAIRY GODMOTHER. |
| MABEL. | THE PRINCE. |
| LUCY. | HERALD. |
| PEGGY (called CINDERELLA). | |
| Lords and Ladies at Ball, etc. | |