Edith.—Why, I get a new one every season. Last Easter I had such a pretty one, all trimmed with pansies, and the milliner sent it home in a paper bag. Uncle Reuben opened the door and took it in, for I had gone to bed. He thought it was flowers, so he put it to soak in the dishpan all night, and you should have seen it in the morning.
(Abner lays down pile of wraps and proceeds to try on Tom’s hat and overcoat. “Business” of examining wraps, trying on hats, while whistling—
[Transcriber's Note: You can play this music (mp3 file) by clicking [[audio/mpeg]] .]
or something monotonous which should be introduced at every opportunity. Whistle “off the key” as much as possible. The others whisper to each other, moving quietly, to positions away from centre, to right and left.)
Abner.—Now I can get the latest city styles better than Bill Barker’s mail-order catalogue that he was reading out of last night. These clothes have sure got some class to them. If Lorena Boggs had seen me now she wouldn’t have gone to the picnic with the soap salesmen, she’d have gone with yours truly. (Puts on hat.) This is I reckon one of them there fried egg derbies that’s so nifty. Yes, sir, if I’d been togged up in these here instead of them hand-me-downs of Miss Susan’s brother’s. (Miss Susan approaches him.) I’d have gone up to Lorena, and taken off my hat like this an’ said—
Miss Susan (sharply).—Don’t be a fool!
Abner (as if surprised).—No, ma’am, I wouldn’t said that to Lorena at all!
Miss Susan (in irritation).—Haven’t you any sense?
Abner.—No, ma’am, nor dollars either, seeing as I earn ten dollars a month and there ain’t no raise of salary visible to the naked eye.