JENNIE, a housemaid.
The scene is placed in the drawing-room of Mr. and Mrs. Thaddeus Perkins, of New York. The time is a Saturday evening in the early spring, and the hour is approaching eight. The curtain, rising, discovers Perkins, in evening dress, reading a newspaper by the light of a lamp on the table. Mrs. Perkins is seated on the other side of the table, buttoning her gloves. Her wrap is on a chair near at hand. The room is gracefully over-furnished.
Mrs. Perkins. Where are the seats, Thaddeus?
Perkins. Third row; and, by Jove! Bess (looking at his watch), we must hurry. It is getting on towards eight now. The curtain rises at 8.15.
Mrs. Perkins. The carriage hasnt come yet. It isnt more than a ten minutes drive to the theatre.
Perkins. Thats true, but there are so many carriage-folk going to see Irving that if we dont start early well find ourselves on the end of the line, and the first act will be half over before we can reach our seats.
Mrs. Perkins. Im so glad weve got good seatsdown near the front. I despise opera-glasses, and seats under the galleries are so oppressive.
Perkins. Well, I dont know. For The Lyons Mail I think a seat in the front row of the top gallery, where you can cheer virtue and hiss villany without making yourself conspicuous, is the best.
Mrs. Perkins. You dont mean to say that youd like to sit up with those odious gallery gods?
Perkins. For a melodrama, I do. Whats the use of clapping your gloved hands together at a melodrama? That doesnt express your feelings. I always want to put two fingers in my mouth and pierce the atmosphere with a regular gallery-god whistle when I see the villain laid low by the tow-headed idiot in the last actbut it wouldnt do in the orchestra. You might as well expect the people in the boxes to eat peanuts as expect an orchestra-chair patron to whistle on his fingers.
Mrs. Perkins. I should die of mortification if you ever should do such a vulgar thing, Thaddeus.
Perkins. Then you neednt be afraid, my dear. Im too fond of you to sacrifice you to my love for whistling. (The front-door bell rings.) Ah, there is the carriage at last. Ill go and get my coat.
[Mrs. Perkins rises, and is about to don her wrap as Mr. Perkins goes towards the door.
Enter Mr. and Mrs. Bradley. Perkins staggers backward in surprise. Mrs. Perkins lets her wrap fall to the floor, an expression of dismay on her face.
Mrs. Perkins (aside). Dear me! Id forgotten all about it. This is the night the club is to meet here!
Bradley. Ah, Perkins, how d y do? Glad to see me? Gad! you dont look it.
Perkins. Glad is a word which scarcely expresses my feelings, Bradley. IIm simply de-lighted. (Aside to Mrs. Perkins, who has been greeting Mrs. Bradley.) Heres a kettle of fish. We must get rid of them, or well miss The Lyons Mail.
Mrs. Bradley. You two are always so formal. The idea of your putting on your dress suit, Thaddeus! Itll be ruined before we are half through this evening.
Bradley. Certainly, Perkins. Why, man, when youve been moving furniture and taking up carpets and ripping out fireplaces for an hour or two that coat of yours will be a raga veritable rag that the ragman himself would be dubious about buying.
Perkins (aside). Are these folk crazy? Or am I? (Aloud.) Pulling up fireplaces? Moving out furniture? Am I to be dispossessed?
Mrs. Bradley. Not by your landlord, but you know what amateur dramatics are.
Bradley. I doubt it. He wouldnt have let us have em here if he had known.
Perkins. Amateuramateur dramatics?
Mrs. Perkins. Certainly, Thaddeus. You know we offered our parlor for the performance. The audience are to sit out in the hall.
Perkins. Ohah! Why, of course! Certainly! It had slipped my mind; andahwhat else?
Bradley. Why, were here to-night to arrange the scene. Dont tell us you didnt know it. Bob Yardsleys coming, and Barlow. Yardsleys a great man for amateur dramatics; he bosses things so pleasantly that you dont know youre being ordered about like a slave. I believe he could persuade a man to hammer nails into his piano-case if he wanted it done, hes so insinuatingly lovely about it all.
Perkins (absently). Ill get a hammer. [Exit.
Mrs. Perkins (aside). I must explain to Thaddeus. Hell never forgive me. (Aloud.) Thaddeus is so forgetful that I dont believe he can find that hammer, so if youll excuse me Ill go help him. [Exit.
Bradley. Wonder whats up? They dont quarrel, do they?
Mrs. Bradley. I dont believe any one could quarrel with Bessie Perkinsnot even a man.
Bradley. Well, theyre queer. Acted as if they werent glad to see us.
Mrs. Bradley. Oh, thats all your imagination. (Looks about the room.) That table will have to be taken out, and all these chairs and cabinets; and the rug will never do.
Bradley. Why not? I think the rug will look first-rate.
Mrs. Bradley. A rug like that in a conservatory? [A ring at the front-door bell is heard.
Bradley. Ah! maybe thats Yardsley. I hope so. If Perkins and his wife are out of sorts we want to hurry up and get through.
Mrs. Bradley. Oh, well be through by twelve oclock.
Enter Yardsley and Barlow.
Yardsley. Ah! here we are at last. The wreckers have arrove. Wheres Perkins?
Barlow. Taken to the woods, I fancy. I say, Bob, dont you think before we begin wed better give Perkins ether? Hell suffer dreadful agony.
Enter Mrs. Perkins, wiping her eyes.
Mrs. Perkins. How do you do, Mr. Barlow? and you, Mr. Yardsley? So glad to see you. Thaddeus will be down in a minute. Heahhe forgot about thethe meeting here to-night, and hehe put on his dress-coat.
Yardsley. Bad thing to lift a piano in. Better be without any coat. But I say we begineh? If you dont mind, Mrs. Perkins. Weve got a great deal to do, and unfortunately hours are limited in length as well as in number. Ah! that fireplace must be covered up. Wouldnt do to have a fireplace in a conservatory. Wilt all the flowers in ten minutes.