Our American Cousin [13]
paper, the very key-stone of his fraud.
Mur I fear so.
Asa Do you, now, wal, you're wrong, you're both wrong. I guess you ain't either on you done much cyphering human nature. The key stone of their fraud is just the point your mighty cute rascals always leave unsecured. Come along with me, stranger, and we'll just work up this sum a little, two heads are better than one. Yours is a little muddled, but mine's pretty clear, and if I don't circumvent that old sarpint, Coyle--
Flo Well?
Asa Say I am a skunk, that's all, and that's the meanest kind of an animal. [Exit L. 1st E.]
Flo I owe you much, Mr. Murcott, more than I can ever repay.
Mur No, no, no, if you did but know the hope of seeing you has roused all the manhood that drink and misery has left me. God bless you, Miss Florence.
Flo No, you don't call me Florence as you did when I was the truant pupil and you the indulgent tutor. [Offers her hand.]
Mur No, no; for heaven's sake do not call back that time or I shall go mad! mad! mad. [Rushes off, L. 1 E., followed by Florence.]
Scene 2--Park in 4. Rural cottage, L. 1 E., adjoining which, and projecting on stage an inside view of a dairy with sloping roof, painting backing to look like milk pans. The whole scene should have a picturesque appearance. Garden fence run across back, ornamental gate or archway, R. 3 E. Pigeon house on pole near dairy, L. C. Spinning wheel inside cottage door, one or two rustic benches, R. and L.
Enter John, R. 3 E., with two milk pails on a yoke, puts them down near dairy, then looks off, R. 3 E.
John There they go, that's a bull's eye, I warrant. Dang me though, if I wouldn't rather see Miss Mary than this cock robin sports yonder, here she comes. Good morning, Miss Mary. [Enter Mary from cottage L.]
Mary Oh, Wickens, you are there. How kind of you to help me with the milk pails to-day, when all the lads and lasses have given themselves a holiday to see the shooting.
John Ah, Miss Mary, you ought to be among then, with a green hat and feather, if all had their rights.
Mary [Laughing.] Nay, ladies without a farthing in the world, ought to put aside their ladyships and make themselves: besides I'm proud of my dairy here, just help me with this troublesome fellow, steady, don't shake it, the cream is foaming so beautifully. There. [John carries pan into cottage and returns down, R.]
John Now, Miss Mary, what can I do for you?
Mary Let me see; well, really, I do believe, Wickens, I've nothing to do but amuse myself.
John Dang it, Miss, that's a pity, cos I can't help you at that, you see.
Mary Oh! Yes, bring me out dear old Welsh nurse's spinning wheel [Exit John into cottage, L. 2 E.] by the side of which I have stood so often, a round eyed baby wondering at its whirring wheel. [Reenter John with wheel, places it near cottage, L. 2 E.] There, that will do famously. I can catch the full scent of the jessamines.
John [R. C.] Anything more, Miss Mary?
Mary No, thank you, Wickens!
John [Going.] Good morning, Miss Mary.
Mary Good morning, Wickens.
John [Returning.] Is there anything I can get for you, Miss Mary?
Mary [Spinning.] Nothing, thank you.
John Dang me if I wouldn't like to stop all day, and watch her pretty figure and run errands for her. [Exit R. 3 E., crosses behind fence.]
Mary Poor Wickens is not the only one who thinks I am a very ill-used young body. Now I don't think so. Grandfather was rich, but he must have had a bad heart, or he never could have cast off poor mamma; had he adopted me, I should never have been so happy as I am now, uncle is kind to me in his pompous, patronizing way, and dear Florence loves me like a sister, and so I am happy. I am my own mistress here, and not anybody's humble servant, I sometimes find myself singing as the birds do, because I can't help it [Song, ``Maid with the milking pail,'' can be introduced here.]
Enter Florence and Asa through gate, R. 3 E.
Flo Come along, cousin, come along. I want to introduce
Mur I fear so.
Asa Do you, now, wal, you're wrong, you're both wrong. I guess you ain't either on you done much cyphering human nature. The key stone of their fraud is just the point your mighty cute rascals always leave unsecured. Come along with me, stranger, and we'll just work up this sum a little, two heads are better than one. Yours is a little muddled, but mine's pretty clear, and if I don't circumvent that old sarpint, Coyle--
Flo Well?
Asa Say I am a skunk, that's all, and that's the meanest kind of an animal. [Exit L. 1st E.]
Flo I owe you much, Mr. Murcott, more than I can ever repay.
Mur No, no, no, if you did but know the hope of seeing you has roused all the manhood that drink and misery has left me. God bless you, Miss Florence.
Flo No, you don't call me Florence as you did when I was the truant pupil and you the indulgent tutor. [Offers her hand.]
Mur No, no; for heaven's sake do not call back that time or I shall go mad! mad! mad. [Rushes off, L. 1 E., followed by Florence.]
Scene 2--Park in 4. Rural cottage, L. 1 E., adjoining which, and projecting on stage an inside view of a dairy with sloping roof, painting backing to look like milk pans. The whole scene should have a picturesque appearance. Garden fence run across back, ornamental gate or archway, R. 3 E. Pigeon house on pole near dairy, L. C. Spinning wheel inside cottage door, one or two rustic benches, R. and L.
Enter John, R. 3 E., with two milk pails on a yoke, puts them down near dairy, then looks off, R. 3 E.
John There they go, that's a bull's eye, I warrant. Dang me though, if I wouldn't rather see Miss Mary than this cock robin sports yonder, here she comes. Good morning, Miss Mary. [Enter Mary from cottage L.]
Mary Oh, Wickens, you are there. How kind of you to help me with the milk pails to-day, when all the lads and lasses have given themselves a holiday to see the shooting.
John Ah, Miss Mary, you ought to be among then, with a green hat and feather, if all had their rights.
Mary [Laughing.] Nay, ladies without a farthing in the world, ought to put aside their ladyships and make themselves: besides I'm proud of my dairy here, just help me with this troublesome fellow, steady, don't shake it, the cream is foaming so beautifully. There. [John carries pan into cottage and returns down, R.]
John Now, Miss Mary, what can I do for you?
Mary Let me see; well, really, I do believe, Wickens, I've nothing to do but amuse myself.
John Dang it, Miss, that's a pity, cos I can't help you at that, you see.
Mary Oh! Yes, bring me out dear old Welsh nurse's spinning wheel [Exit John into cottage, L. 2 E.] by the side of which I have stood so often, a round eyed baby wondering at its whirring wheel. [Reenter John with wheel, places it near cottage, L. 2 E.] There, that will do famously. I can catch the full scent of the jessamines.
John [R. C.] Anything more, Miss Mary?
Mary No, thank you, Wickens!
John [Going.] Good morning, Miss Mary.
Mary Good morning, Wickens.
John [Returning.] Is there anything I can get for you, Miss Mary?
Mary [Spinning.] Nothing, thank you.
John Dang me if I wouldn't like to stop all day, and watch her pretty figure and run errands for her. [Exit R. 3 E., crosses behind fence.]
Mary Poor Wickens is not the only one who thinks I am a very ill-used young body. Now I don't think so. Grandfather was rich, but he must have had a bad heart, or he never could have cast off poor mamma; had he adopted me, I should never have been so happy as I am now, uncle is kind to me in his pompous, patronizing way, and dear Florence loves me like a sister, and so I am happy. I am my own mistress here, and not anybody's humble servant, I sometimes find myself singing as the birds do, because I can't help it [Song, ``Maid with the milking pail,'' can be introduced here.]
Enter Florence and Asa through gate, R. 3 E.
Flo Come along, cousin, come along. I want to introduce