Drawing Rooms, Second Floor, and Attics: A Farce, in One Act

by John Maddison Morton

PHŒBE. (singing) I’m off to Charlestown early in the morning;

I’m off to Charlestown, and little time to stay;

Then give my respects to all the pretty yellar girls;

I’m off to Charlestown before the break of day.

The small door, L. C., opens, and JONATHAN appears—he has a house broom in one hand.

JONATHAN. Ah! there’s my pretty, merry-hearted little bird, chirruping away as usual.

PHŒBE. Yes, uncle Jonathan, and now that you are here, you’ll help your “little bird” to take down her clothes line, won’t you? (gets down)

JONATH. Very well; only we must look sharp about it; our drawing rooms and second floor give a party to-night. Dear, dear! only to think of the swaps and changes of this mortal life! I recollect our drawing rooms and second floor, Mr. Bunny, going about the streets of London, crying, “Hare skins—rabbit skins!”

PHŒBE. And now he’s a retired furrier, with no end of money! I only wish I was rich!

JONATH. Phœbe, allow me to remind you, that when your parents sent you up from Cambridge—celebrated for its university and its sausages—it was in order to cure you of your nonsensical notions of finery and grandeur. (on L.)

PHŒBE. No such thing!

JONATH. No such thing! when you were actually trying to entrap the affections of a young man, considerably higher up the social ladder than yourself!