Mrs. J. Yes, we find we can make more money that way than by makin’ butter and cheese. So we buy our butter at the store.
Mrs. M. (indignantly). We came to the country expecting to get fresh fruit and vegetables. But it seems we are more likely to find them in the city. I am half inclined to go directly back; however, I will perhaps remain one week. It depends on how we are treated whether we stop any longer.
(Exit with children, L.)
Mrs. J. Lor’ now, what airs these city people do put on! Seems to me there’s no end to their whims and wants. They don’t have the least thought about economy. (In a loud voice) Patty, you and Jonathan come to dinner.
P. (outside, R.). Comin’, ma’am.
(Curtain falls.)
Scene IV.—Sitting-room. Mrs. M. present, R.
Mrs. M. I can’t stand boarding here much longer, that’s a fixed fact. Mrs. Jones sets a most wretched table, and the children are really growing thinner every day. If it hadn’t been for the name of it I should have left Hillsdale before this. The reputation of going to the country for the summer is hardly sufficient to pay for living in small rooms, sleeping on stifling feather-beds, and enduring such execrable cookery, and not a book but the Farmer’s Almanac to be found in the house.
(Florence runs in L., with a terrified expression of countenance. Her hat is hanging down from her neck, and her hair flying in all directions.)
Flor. Oh! oh! I’m so scared. (Runs to her mother.)