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Answering the Phone
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Answering the Phone
A Farce
By
ELIZABETH F. GUPTILL
_Price 10 Cents_
_All Rights Reserved, Amateur Performance Permitted_
[Illustration]
_Tullar-Meredith Co._
265 West 36th Street, New York 14 W. Washington Street, Chicago
_Copyright 1914 by Tullar-Meredith Co
International Copyright Secured_
Answering the Phone
Characters
Mrs. Courtney; Miss Eleanora Courtney, her daughter; Nora Flanagan, the
new hired girl.
SCENE I.
The living room of the Courtney home. Mrs. Courtney dressed ready
for the street. She gives finishing touches to her toilet before the
mirror, then steps to side door.
_Mrs. C._ If any one calls while I am gone, Nora, say I am out. Make
hot biscuits for tea, and open a jar of strawberries. Be sure to answer
the phone. The last girl I had didn’t know what a telephone was, and
ignored it all the afternoon. It made me a lot of trouble, and I had to
let her go. I will leave the door open so you can hear it.
_Nora._ (Without.) I’ll answer it, mem, to be sure.
_Mrs. C._ Very well. I’ll be back before tea time, but don’t tell any
caller so. Just say I’m out. If they ask when I’ll return, you don’t
know.
_Nora._ Faith an’ I do, thin—befoor tay time.
_Mrs. C._ I mean you must tell them you don’t know. Remember, now, and
be sure to answer the phone.
(Exit Mrs. C. by other side door. In a minute, Nora appears from
kitchen, looks toward that door.)
_Nora._ Sure an’ she didn’t lave the outside dure opin, so it must be
this dure she was afther manin’. So the last gurl didn’t know what
a tillyphone was, didn’t she? Will, sorra a bit more do I, but I’ll
answer it if it shpakes to me, civil-like. It must be in this room, for
this was the dure she lift open. Now is it a Polly Parrot, or what is
it? Begorry, its Nora Flanagan that don’t know at all, at all. Come,
Tilly, Tilly, Tilly! Come show yuresilf, and lit me hear the voice av
yez. Where in the wurruld doos yez kape yersilf? Come Phony, Phony,
Phony! Come, that’s a good baste! (She has been looking everywhere.
She now seats herself.) Stay where yez are, thin, bad ’cess to yez!
I naden’t answer yez if yez don’t shpake, that’s sure! (Phone rings;
Nora jumps, with a little scream.) Sure an’ I niver heard the durebell
sound as near as that! (Exit.) (Comes back muttering.) Bad ’cess to
thim byes! A rapping and a ringing and thin whin yez go to the dure,
no wan bees there, at all, at all! (Phone rings again. Nora runs out,
but comes back to put her head through the doorway.) Faith, an’ I’ll
watch fur ’em this toime, and ketch the crathers! (Exit Nora. Phone
rings again. Nora enters, and seats herself.) Sure, and that’s a quare
thing! That wasn’t the durebell at all, at all. I thought it sounded
in this room, but there’s no bell here, at all, at all! If this house
is haunted, its mesilf that won’t stay a night in the place, I don’t
wurruk where there’s witches nor ghosts, that’s flat. (Bell rings
again. Nora looks at phone.) Sure, and I belave it’s that little box
that’s makin’ all the noise. Perhaps that’s the phone, now. But how can
I answer it? There is no dure to open. (Bell rings again,) Shut up,
you sassy box! I aint goin’ to answer yez. (Bell rings again.) Well,
ting-a-ling-a-ling, thin. Doos that suit yez? (Enter Miss Courtney,
dressed for the street.)
_Miss C._ Why Nora, didn’t you hear the phone? You should answer it,
when we are not here.
_Nora._ Sure and I did answer it.
_Miss C._ Who was it?
_Nora._ Who was it? The Ould Harry himsilf, I belave. He kipt a ringin’
and a ringin’ but niver a wurrud did he say.
_Miss C._ That’s queer! (Bell rings again, Miss C. goes to phone. Nora
watches curiously.)
_Miss C._ Hello!—— Yes—— That’s too bad—— Something wrong with the
line, maybe. The girl said she answered—— I’m sorry, but I’m just going
out, and I must go the other way. Tell her I’ll run in tomorrow—— Yes——
Goodbye. (Hangs up receiver.) Now if it rings again, Nora, answer it.
I’ll be back to tea, but don’t say so to any one. Don’t know. Just say
I’m out, and that you’ll give any message.
_Nora._ I will do that same. (Miss C. goes out.)
_Nora._ So that box is the tillyphone, is it? Quare things they have
in Americky——little rooms that goes up or down with yez, pieanny’s
that play thimselves, trumpets that sing at yez, and boxes that talk to
yez! (Bell rings.) There goes the thing again. Well, she put this to
her ear, and talked through this. Hello!—— It’s mesilf—— Sure and it
isn’t. It’s number 12 Maple Avenue, Mrs. Coortney’s house—— Yis, I’m
the gurrul, Nora Flanagan—— No, she’s not at home, she’s gone out, and
the young lady too—— Sure, and she said she would be home at taytime——
-Oh, begorra, she said I wasn’t to know whin she’d be home. I’ll give
her a message if yez like—— Who did you say?—— Oh, yis, Mrs. Donahue——
No?—— Oh, Mrs. Van Houton? Is that roight?—— Yis, I’ll tell her yez
hollered through the little box, but I’ll not tell her yez called,
for yez didn’t. I niver set eyes on yez. I can lie, if I must, for my
misthress, but I shan’t lie to her—— Yis, goodbye to yez. (Hangs up
receiver.) Sure and I did that in foine shtyle. It’s Nora Flanagan can
learn the Yankee ways. Now where was that woman, I wonder? And how
did I hear the voice av her so plain? It’s witchcraft, I do belave.
Sure, and I’ll ask the praste, nixt toime I go to confession, if it’s
all roight fer a good gurrul to middle with. If not, I shan’t answer
the crather anny more. (Bell rings.) There it goes again. (Takes down
receiver.) Hello!—— Yis, it’s Nora, sure—— No, there’s no one ilse
here—— Sure, it’s a good hand yez are at coortin, but how do yez know
how pretty I am?—— Yis, av coorse it’s Nora—— Odd? Yis, maybe. Yez own
sounds odd, too—— Yis, I caught it, but I don’t care to have me ears
kissed—— Do I, now? Well I’m not sure—— Yis, I’ll tell yez tonight, if
yez come—— The theayter? Sure I will that same—— And a little supper,
did yez say, aftherwards? I’ll be there—— No, it’s no freak, it’s the
right voice av me—— Yis, I do thin, a little—— Well, goodbye thin, me
dear—— Yis, at eight, goodbye. (Hangs up receiver.) To think I’ve got
me a beau, so soon, and I’ve niver set eyes on him, nayther. Reginald!
It’s a pretty name, that it is. Whin did he see me, I wonder? (Primps
before glass.) Well there’s lots of Yankee gurruls not so good looking
as Nora Flanagan. I must hurry up the tay, and be riddy whin me young
man gits here. Bedad, I’ll be guessing he’s the perliceman that told me
the way here. He was a foine looking man, to be sure, and Irish, by his
look and brogue, but not by the name av him. Reginald! Real foine it
sounds! (Exit into kitchen.)
(CURTAIN)