SCENE II.—_MR. CROWELL’S chamber. MR. C. apparently asleep, on

lounge, C. He opens his eyes. No one else present._

MR. CROWELL (_in a querulous tone_). Where’s Maria? She’s always gone when I want her. I might die here, and nobody’d know anything about it. (_Knocks on floor with cane. MARIA enters, R._)

M. Are you awake, uncle?

MR. C. Awake? Of course I am. I’ve been awake this half hour. You might have heard me knocking long ago, if you were not deaf.

M. I came up as soon as I heard your knock. And how does your head feel?

MR. C. A great deal worse. And my face is hot. I’m sure that I am going to have a fever.

M. The doctor said it was only a cold.

MR. C. Doctors don’t know everything. Did you bring me up a cup of tea?

M. No; you didn’t say anything about it, did you?

MR. C. Well, I supposed you’d know that I should need something by this time.

M. It was only an hour ago that you took a bowl of gruel, and I didn’t think you would wish for anything more so soon.

MR. C. It was full three hours ago. And I want a cup of tea,—hot, mind you,—just as soon as I can have it.

(_Exit MARIA, R._)

MR. C. (_soliloquizing_). It is strange that some people haven’t sense enough to know what a sick person wants, without being told everything. I always thought Maria was a good nurse; but she is no better than the rest of them. (_Enter MARIA._)

M. Here is a nice cup of tea for you, uncle.

MR. C. (_tastes it—throws down the spoon and turns his head away_). It’s hot enough to take the skin off my mouth. I don’t want any more. Throw it away.

(_MARIA pours it away. She then takes a fan, and gently fans the invalid. He bears it a moment, then says_:)

MR. C. Don’t keep that fan going; I shall take more cold.

M. You said your face was hot.

MR. C. Well, I don’t want to be cooled off so suddenly. Let me taste of that tea again.

M. I threw it away.

MR. C. (_in surprise_). Threw my tea away?

M. Yes, you told me to. You said you didn’t want it.

MR. C. I should think you might know by this time that I don’t mean what I say. Get me some more, quick.

(_MARIA goes out. During her absence MR. C. remains quiet, and with his eyes closed. She soon returns._)

MR. C. Why didn’t you stay all day?

M. I hurried all I could, uncle; you know I had to wait for the tea to get hot. (_Tasting._) It’s very nice.

MR. C. (_shaking his head_). I’ve got all off the notion for it, now.

M. Won’t you have some of it?

MR. C. No; I’ve lost all desire for it. (_M. places tea on the table. A knock is heard._) Who’s that making such a racket?

M. I’ll go and see. (_Goes out—soon returns._) It’s Mr. Preston, uncle. He wishes to know how you are.

MR. C. Tell him it’s none of his business.

M. Yes, uncle. (_Goes out—soon returns._)

MR. C. Well, what did he say?

M. He seemed quite angry.

MR. C. Angry at what, pray?

M. I suppose at being told it was none of his business.

MR. C. Maria, you didn’t tell him that?

M. Yes, I did, uncle. You told me to tell him it was none of his business, and he said he shouldn’t trouble you by calling again.

MR. C. (_angrily_). Haven’t you got sense enough to know that I don’t mean what I say?

M. I supposed, of course, you meant what you said, though I didn’t exactly like to repeat your message to him.

MR. C. (_after a pause_). I guess I’ll try a little of the tea, Maria. (_She brings it._)

MR. C. (_languidly_). You’ll have to feed me, Maria, I’m so weak.

M. Yes, uncle. (_Places napkin under chin, and proceeds to feed him._)

MR. C. Stop—stop—it’s hot. You’re choking me. (_But MARIA keeps on._)

MR. C. (_moving quickly one side_).—Sto-op. Can’t you understand plain English? I don’t believe there’s a particle of skin left on my tongue. What do you mean?

M. You told me I ought to know by this time that you didn’t mean what you said. So I supposed I was to go on, at any rate.

MR. C. It’s horrible tasting stuff. You’ve been putting pepper into it. While you were about it, why didn’t you put in vinegar, too?

(_MARIA, without a word, goes to the table, takes up the vinegar-cruet, and pours vinegar into the cup._)

MR. C. (_starting up_). Maria Davidson, I believe you are either a fool or insane.

(_MARIA sits down, and begins to cry. MR. C. gazes at her in astonishment. A drumming is heard outside, R._)

MR. C. (_putting his hands to his head_). Oh, my poor head! my poor head! Maria, take my pistol from the closet, and shoot the rascal. (_She goes to the closet, gets the pistol, and fires, according to his direction._)

MR. C. What the deuce has got into the girl! (_He starts up, and goes to the window, L.,—mechanically takes up the pistol which MARIA had laid down. She glides out by one door, R., and immediately a policeman enters by another, L._)

POLICEMAN. So here you are. I’ll just slip on these bracelets, so you won’t do any more mischief.

MR. C. (_drawing back_). What do you mean by insulting me in such a manner?

P. You’ve been attempting to murder a man.

MR. C. No, I haven’t.

P. Didn’t you fire a pistol from the window just now?

MR. M. No, I didn’t fire it.

P. Who did fire it, then?

MR. C. (_hesitating_). Why, I—you see—it was—my niece that fired it.

P. (_looking around room_). That’s a likely story. If she fired the pistol, where is she now?

MR. C. She went out a few minutes ago.

P. You can’t come that dodge on me. It was only a moment ago that it was done, and there’s no one but you in the room, and I found you with the pistol in your hand. You must come along with me.

MR. C. But I can’t—I’m sick.

P. (_taking a look at him_). You don’t appear to be dangerously sick. I guess you’re able to go with me.

MR. C. But I had the doctor this morning. I’m quite feverish, and it might cause my death to go out.

P. If you’re sick you shall have a doctor to prescribe for you. Come along. (_Takes him by shoulder._)

(_Exeunt, L._)

MARIA (_entering, soliloquizing_). My plot has been carried out well thus far. I don’t think uncle recognized the policeman. It is astonishing how the habit of complaining gains on one. But if a person is unreasonable, and given to complaining, there is nothing that will effect a cure so soon as _taking him at his word_. (_Uncle enters, L._) Ah, have you returned so soon, uncle? I have felt quite anxious about you, fearing you might take more cold.

MR. C. You are a very successful little manager, Maria, upon my word. I felt mortified enough on starting from my own house in the character of a criminal. But I could blame no one but myself, since my orders were all obeyed, not only very promptly, but _very literally_. Then I thought what an unreasonable bear I was, and what a patient little nurse you were, and by the time we stopped I had become quite subdued. Then I discovered that the policeman was my old and valued friend, Mr. Preston. It all flashed upon my mind that it was a plot to bring me to my senses, and to show how unreasonable I was.

M. Oh, no, uncle, not that exactly. We only aimed to show you that you imagined yourself worse than you really were. But hadn’t you better lie down awhile? You are not accustomed to such exertion.

MR. C. No; I am thoroughly cured in mind and body. Nothing would tempt me to personate again the miserable hypochondriac I was when I left the house. I am cured, and I mean to stay so.

(_Curtain falls._)

AUNT PATIENCE’S EAR-TRUMPET.

CHARACTERS.

MRS. GRANBY. CLARA, Her Daughter. AUNT PATIENCE BURTON, a Lady of Property. ERNEST MONTGOMERY, Clara’s Suitor. SERVANT.