Mandy. Glory! Glory! De Judge am fighting de Britishers!
Miss B. Stupid! You know the Judge is a Tory. I sent him to Boston to arrange my affairs in case I should return to England. He says (taking up the letter) that he is attending on young Dickinson who was badly wounded at Bunker Hill—while bearing the colors at the head of his company. Humph! He doth not lack bravery, ’twould seem. The Judge requests me to send word to the young man’s mother. Perchance neighbor Kellogg’s boy would bear the message to Mrs. Dickinson. I will go and see.
(Exit Miss B., at R., leaving letter on the table. Mandy exits at L.)
Enter Betty with knitting. Sits by the window which is open. She takes the cat and lifts it to the sill.
Betty. Smell the roses, Salem. How sweet they be. You are a wise pussy; tell me if William has the rose and the letter I sent him some days since. The post is so tardy these days. (Puts down cat; rises and goes to the mirror; pulls beads from their hiding-place under her kerchief; arranges them around her neck.) ’Tis a pity I cannot wear William’s keepsake openly. The beads become me well.
Enter Mandy and Betty forgets to hide the beads. Mandy brings in the teakettle and hangs it on the crane.
Mandy. Oh, missy, missy! You’ William Dickinson am shot!
(Betty screams and falls back horror-struck, then seizes Mandy by the arm.)
Betty. Not killed! Tell me instantly!
Mandy. He am mortally wounded but will recover. De Judge say so in dat letter. (Points to letter on table. Betty seizes letter and begins to read. Mandy is horrified that she should read her aunt’s letter.) Oh, missy, missy! You’ aunt would scalp you did she catch you readin’ her letter. She mos’ awful ’ticular ’bout her letters.