SCENE II—_MOTHER sewing. CHILD comes in dressed fancifully.

CHILD. Mary, have you finished that hemming? ’Cause I want you to practice.

MOTHER. Not quite, mamma. But can I play when this is done?

CHILD (_severely_). No, Mary, you can’t. You’ve played enough; and if you don’t go to school, why, you’ve got to study at home—just lots. (_Sits down, adjusts dress, folds hands._) You’ve got to do lots of sums, and most fifty words in spelling. And you’ve got to practice—two—hours. Just scales and finger exercises, _nothing_ else. (_Apologetically, aside._) I’m not doing this to be mean, mamma, I truly ain’t. But I want you to see how it feels to _have_ to do things you don’t like. (_Continues with dignity._) You see Mary, mothers know lots more than little girls. I mean they _think_ they do—and _I_ know you must do that way.

MOTHER. But I’m hungry, and it’s long past lunch time.

CHILD. I know it, Mary, but you finish that before you can have any lunch. (_In a little girl’s tone._) Really and truly Bridget is horrid. She said it would take her too long to fix all the things I told her to, and when I in-sis-ted—I had to stamp my foot at her—she just said all right, but I’d have to wait for ’em then. Does she do that way when you are the mamma?

MOTHER. She is rather trying sometimes.

CHILD. Mercy! I should think so! (_Resumes grown-up air._) Now, after lunch—when it comes—if it ever does—I’m going to play _all_ the afternoon. Oh! I forgot. Don’t mothers ever play? Don’t you play sometimes, when you are the mamma?

MOTHER. Oh, yes.

CHILD. But how?

MOTHER. I read (_CHILD makes a face_) or do fancy work.

CHILD. I hate sewing.

MOTHER. Or I have a friend to lunch.

CHILD. Yes, but you only sit and talk.

MOTHER. Or I write letters.

CHILD. That’s worse than sewing.

MOTHER. Or I play the piano. Oh, I enjoy myself very much.

CHILD. Well, I don’t think mammas have a bit good time if that is all they do. (_Jumps up, skips across the floor._) Oh, I know! (_Stops, sits down in another chair, is dignified again._) I forgot. (_Apologetically._) You see, I’ve been Mary so long. Well, Mary, you go and bring me my jewelry. (_MOTHER hesitates._) Go right along, child. You must obey me at once. (_MOTHER goes out, CHILD smiles._) I guess she finds that isn’t very easy. (_Bounces up and down on her chair._) My! But it’s horrid to sit still so long! I’d like to go swing, only mammas never do. (_Squirms about. MOTHER enters, hands her two jewel boxes._)

MOTHER. Shall I practice now?

CHILD. No; do your sums. All those on the four pages I showed you—_all_ of them. (_Opens boxes._) Now I’m going to put all of these on—all the rings and all the bracelets. (_Tries them on._)

CURTAIN.