MRS. M. Mr. Mouser can go where he likes, and do what he likes--and so
can I. We needn’t interfere with one another in the slightest degree. I
shall go to my sister’s. If he chooses to come well and good. If not, I
dare say I shall find some one _polite enough_ to see me home! and
you may tell him so. (_going_)
CRUM. Well, but Anastasia?
MRS. M. (_in a loud voice_) You may tell him so.
(_goes out L. D. F., slamming door after her_)
CRUM. But Anastasia? Stop! Hear me! I’ll follow her--no, for if I do,
I shall leave the coast clear for Mouser--confound it. I wish I hadn’t
interfered at all. So I’ll find Betsy at once, and marry her off hand to
Joseph Harris and the little greengrocer’s shop. (_taking his hat,
&c._)
_BETSY peeps in L. D. F._
BET. Sir! Sir! Are you alone, Mr. Crummy?
CRUM. (R.) You’re the very young woman I wish to see.
BET. So are you, sir.
CRUM. I see--you’ve given him the slip, eh?
BET. Slip, sir! Who, sir?
CRUM. Mouser. Betsy, I’m afraid you’ve gone a little too far.
BET. (_drawing herself up_) You’ll be good enough to remember,
sir, that you are speaking to Betsy Baker? Didn’t you insist on my
making Mr. Mouser fall in love with me in downright earnest?
CRUM. Yes, yes.
BET. And ain’t he in love with me in downright earnest?
CRUM. Yes, confound him!
BET. Very well, sir. Then I’ll trouble you for the little
greengrocer’s shop at the corner of the street.
CRUM. Pooh! We’ll talk about that some other time. (_walking
about_)
BET. No, sir--now! now! (_following him_) I won’t go out of the
house, without the little greengrocer’s shop at the corner of the
street. I’ve worked hard for it!
CRUM. Pshaw!
BET. (_stopping_) Very well--then I know what I’ll do--I’ll fall
in love with Mouser in downright earnest, too! He’s a very nice little
fellow, Mr. Mouser! Where is Mr. Mouser? (_in a loud voice and walking
to and fro_) Where’s Mr. Mouser?
CRUM. (_following her_) Hush!
BET. (_louder still_) I want my Mouser!
CRUM. Be quiet; you shall have the shop--but, on this condition--that
you don’t see Mouser again.
BET. Then you must tell him I can’t come.
CRUM. Can’t come, where?
BET. Here, in an hour’s time. That’s what I came to tell you about.
He left Mrs. Mouser’s veil at our place just now, and, when I opened it
there was a letter inside!
CRUM. A letter?
BET. Yes, sir.
CRUM. From Mr. Mouser?
BET. Yes, sir, appointing me to meet him here.
CRUM. Why, then, the little profligate is really in love with her!
And you read the letter?
BET. No, sir, I defy anybody to say they ever saw me read anything.
So I gave it to one of our girls.
CRUM. The devil!
BET. No, sir, Big Charlotte--a red-haired young woman, on a large
scale. Perhaps you’ve noticed her, sir?
CRUM. Pshaw! Go on.
BET. Well, sir, she read the letter out loud, at the top of her
voice, sir--and she’s a very powerful organ. Perhaps you’ve heard her
organ, sir.
CRUM. Confusion! Then the contents of the letter--that Mouser had
asked you to meet him here----
BET. Was known all over the laundry in a twinkling. Fancy
thirty-seven female voices, including Big Charlotte’s, crying out,
“Lawks!” at the same moment? Of course, I was obliged to clear myself,
which I did, by telling them the whole business! How it was to oblige
you, that I was trying to make Mr. Mouser fall in love with me; because
as how you promised to give the little greengrocer’s shop at the corner
of the street to the young woman that succeeded in captivating him.
CRUM. Well?
BET. Well, sir--the words were no sooner out of my mouth, than all the
washing-tubs were deserted in a moment, and the whole of the
thirty-seven girls--Big Charlotte included--seemed determined to set
about captivating Mr. Mouser at once--and, as ill-luck would have it, he
passed by the window at that moment, sir--and they all instantly rushed
out after him, in a body.
CRUM. Zounds! There’s a pretty piece of business! What’ll become of
him? Why the devil did I interfere? (_snatches up his hat and runs
off_)
BET. But, sir! Mr. Crummy! Stop! Where’s my shop? I insist on my
shop!
(_Great noise of WOMEN’S voices suddenly heard--“Stop, sir!”
“Mr. Mouser!” “Don’t run!” “It’s only me!” &c.; MOUSER rushes in at
D. L. F., followed by WOMEN; after considerable trouble he turns them
out again at door and slams it--noise of WOMEN’S voices repeated_)
MOUS. (_shouting at the door_) Go along! Females begone!
(_WOMEN heard again at R. D., MOUSER runs and closes it_)
MOUS. (_advancing_) What the deuce is the matter with the women? What
are the police about? I pay the police rate--cheerfully and willingly
pay it--because I can’t help it. I provide a large body of men, not
only with the necessaries of life, but with the luxury of an oilskin
cape to protect them from the inclemency of the weather--and yet in
open day--walking slowly along the public streets--I find myself
suddenly overwhelmed by an avalanche of females! (_in a serious tone_)
It’s a retribution. Mouser, listen to me--you have a wife, Mouser--and
yet, you first run after another woman: and now you have fifty women
running after you, Mouser. It won’t do, Mouser! (_sees BETSY_) Ah,
Betsy!--so you’re come, eh?
BET. No, sir, I ain’t.
MOUS. Come, I like that.
BET. Well, if I have you sent for me.
MOUS. The fact is, I requested your presence here--to--to--reason with
you--on the--impropriety of your conduct.
BET. Sir. (_aside_) If I was only sure of the shop, I’d bust out
a laughing--but, as I ain’t, I dare not. (_aloud_) I see how it is
you want to break my heart.
MOUS. Hush! (_trying to pacify her_) You’re wrong, Betsy, but
you don’t know what it is to have a young and lovely wife, Betsy.
BET. Yes I do.
MOUS. No you don’t, and what’s more, you probably never will. And so,
Betsy--that is--I mean--I say--I mean--(_aside_)--I can’t make up my
mind as to what I _do_ mean.
_WOMEN heard again without._
MOUS. (_aside_) The women again! I’ll go and shut the office door, for
fear they should come in that way. (_goes off, R. D. F._)
BET. (_suddenly leaving off sobbing_) I’m horribly afraid the
little shop at the corner of the street, will slip through my fingers at
last. (_double knock at street door_) Oh, gemini! Who can that be?
What’ll become of me?
_MRS. MOUSER enters, L. D. F., followed by BOY._
MRS. M. Is Mr. Mouser at home?
BOY. No, ma’am.
MRS. M. Bring candles.
BOY. Yes, ma’am.
(_BOY goes off and returns immediately with candles, which he
places on table, and then retires at back. BETSY makes her
escape, and runs out L. D. F._)
MRS. M. Good gracious! What a commotion! There are at least thirty
women round the door! I’m quite alarmed! I feel I was wrong to leave the
house in a pet against Mr. Mouser. As for my Cousin Crummy’s
insinuations, I treat them with the utmost contempt. So, instead of
spending the evening with sister Charlotte, I determined to return home,
and give my poor dear affectionate little husband an agreeable
surprise.
MOUS. (_from within_) Don’t be impatient!
MRS. M. That’s his voice. Who can he be speaking to?
MOUS. (_from within_) I’ll be with you directly, Betsy.
MRS. M. Betsy! (_blows out candles, stage dark_) Oh! the monster!
_Re-enter MOUSER from Office, R. D. F._