Woodbarrow Farm: Play in Three Acts

Scene 2. Same as Act i. Time, evening, fire burning brightly, and lamp

Chapter 5846 wordsPublic domain

lit on table, where supper is laid. Deb. discovered by fire, attending to cooking operations; Mrs. R. by fire, laying supper.

Mrs. R. Be it done, lass?

Deb. (_Who is kneeling down, looking into oven._) Yes, aunt, just to a turn.

Mrs. R. (_Crossing and looking over Deb’s shoulder._) Ah, that be just right. Thee’s a good cook, lass. (_Crossing back to table._) Ah, how un used to like a veal pasty. (_Sighs._)

Deb. It’s a bad thing going to bed, though, ain’t it, aunt?

Mrs. R. Ah, anything be bad for them as ain’t got no stomachs, and underdone bricks be all right for them as has. (_Gets dishes from dresser; lays table._) Besides, we bain’t going to bed yet. Us’ll sit and have a chat after supper.

Deb. It seems so lonely of an evening here now. (_Looking into fire._)

Mrs. R. (_In front of table r.c._) So it do, lass. (_Crossing L._) Ah, the lads bean’t so big to look at, but they leaves a rare space behind ’em when they goes away.

Deb. (_After a pause, still gazing dreamily into fire._) I wonder if he’ll ever come back.

Mrs. R. Aye, aye; he’ll come back, never fear.

Deb. (_Turns._) What, to stop?

Mrs. R. (_l. sits on settle._) Ah, to stop.

Deb. What makes you think so, aunt?

Mrs. R. I dunno. It’s never seemed real to me, any on it. I’m awaiting every day to hear un lift the latch and walk in to find as it had all been a dream. So I alius lays for three (_l._)

(_Enter Allen c. He is dressed much as in Act 1. He shuts the door and stands by it._)

Allen. Well, mother, (_c._)

Mrs. R. (_l. staring at him._) Allen, lad! (_Bewildered, not grasping it. Deb. having risen, stands with the hot pie that she has that moment taken from the oven, transfixed R._)

Allen. (_At door c._) I’ve come home, you see, to stop--for good. Are thee glad to see me, mother?

Mrs. R. (_l._) Come home! To stop! For good! Ah! (_Rushes across with a cry of joy and hugs him up c._) I said he would--I said he would--I said he would. My boy! My boy! (_After a pause._) And--and all the money, and--and Miss Dexter?

Allen. (_Taking off his hat and throwing it down at hack._) Shadows, mother, that have passed away, out of my life, for ever. I’ll tell thee all about it later on, never mind to-night. Let’s think only about ourselves. (_Going to Deb. r._) Are thee glad to see me?

(_Mrs. R. pushes them together from behind r. Deb. still with pie in her hands, puts her face up. Allen bends and kisses it. Mrs. R. catches the two in her arms, and embraces both at once, laughing. Deb. holds pie out at arm’s length to save it._)

Allen. Mind the pie, mother.

Mrs. R. (_Still embracing them._) Are thee hungry, lad?

Allen. Rather.

Mrs. R. Bless un, and thee’ve come back just in time for supper, as thee alius used to. (_Laughs, sits up stage, top of table._) Can thee eat veal pasty?

Allen. Can I eat veal--(_taking off overcoat and throwing it on chair r. c._) Let me get at un, that’s all.

Mrs. R. Poor boy! Come and sit ’ee down. (_Pushing him in chair l. of table._) Where be the potatoes, Deb.?

Deb. (_Bewildered, turns round and round._) I don’t know. (_Laughs._)

Mrs. R. Well, have a look in the saucepan, then. (_Sits back of table r. c. Allen l. Deb. r._) Thee won’t find ‘em by turning round and round. Now come lad, and get a bit inside thee. Us’ll do the talking afterwards.

(_Deb. potters about between fire and table in a bewildered manner. She brings potatoes, and puts them in front of Allen._)

Allen. Ah, it do smell lovely, don’t it? (_Sniffing at pie._)

Mrs. R. Never thee mind smelling it, thee taste it. Lud, how thin thee art looking, lad. (_To Deb. who is almost doing so._) Don’t pour the beer into the pie, child, and look where thee’s put the potatoes! (_Takes jug away from her._)

Deb. (_Sitting down, laughing._) I don’t know what I’m doing. (_Takes saucepan off table._)

Mrs. R. Well, us can see that.

Allen. And how’s everything been going on? How’s the colt?

Mrs. R. Kicked Parsons clean into the ditch yestermorning, the little dear! (_All are now seated._)

Allen. No, did un? (_Laughs._)

Deb. One of the guinea hens is dead, the little one of all.

Allen. What, the one as used to squint?

Deb. Yes, Parsons left his shot on the pigstye wall, and she ate two ounces. Oh, and you remember Jim?

Allen. What, the bantam?

Deb. Yes. He’s given his own father such a licking, and won’t let him come near the yard.

Allen. (_Laughing heartily._) Plucky little beggar! Serve the old ‘un right. He wur always a bully. Now, mother--(_about to hand her the pie._) Why, mother, thee art crying!

Mrs. R. (_Crying._) No, I ain’t. Go on with thee supper, lad.

Allen. (_Looking at Deb._) And--why, here be Deb. crying too!

(_The two women laugh through their tears. Allen joins them as curtain descends._)

Mrs. R. It’s wi’ joy, lad; it’s wi’ joy!

SLOW CURTAIN.