By the window at right a plain pine table and chair. The end of the table is set with a plate, knife, fork, drinking-cup, etc., for one person, and there are corndodgers in generous quantities, and a jug of molasses.
In the middle of the right wall there is a wide-mouthed fireplace, with black andirons, several iron pots, and a skillet. Above the hearth strips of leather nailed to the wall serve as holders for empty powder-horns, knives, etc. There is a pine bench by the hearth, placed so that those sitting on it face the audience. Also a three-legged pine stool. Beyond the hearth, towards the background, a dresser with a few dishes.
Fastened to the wall, left foreground, is a pine shelf on which stand Abraham Lincoln's books, well-worn copies of "Robinson Crusoe" "Aesop's Fables," "Pilgrim's Progress," etc., etc. Above this shelf a clock, battered yet adequate. A bearskin rug on the floor. The whole scene is homely, peaceful, intimate.
The embers on the hearth give out a dull glow which leaves the room in semi-darkness, yet lights up several objects by the hearthstone—namely, a heap of pine cones, some dried spice-wood bushes, a rude corn-popper, a snow-shovel, and a neatly-mended tongs.
In the frosty out-of-doors the wind blows gustily from time to time. Otherwise the room is quite still, save for the ticking of the clock, which points to half-past seven. For a moment after the curtain's rise the stage is deserted. Then come two brisk knocks at the door, and it is opened from without by Polly Prentice, who first thrusts in her head, looks about, and then crosses the threshold, speaking back over her shoulder to Amy Roby and Tom Bush. Polly wears a scarlet cloak, and her cheeks are as red as apples. All carry lanterns.
POLLY.
There's no one home. Wherever can Nancy be? She said if she wasn't here we were to wait for her. Come in, Amy, and you, too, Tom Bush, and be careful to close the door. (All enter.) The fire is nearly spent. B-rrrrrr! It's a cold night for this time of year. My fingers are tingling. That's right, Tom, put on some spice bushes for a blaze. I'll put my lantern over here by yours, Amy. What time is it?
AMY.
Half-past seven. I wish that Nancy would hurry. The corn-husking begins at eight, and we are to call for Jason Brown and Lucy before we start.
TOM
(warming his hands).