CASTS OF CHARACTERS, STAGE BUSINESS, COSTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIONS. &c., ADAPTED TO THE HOME CIRCLE, PRIVATE THEATRICALS, AND THE AMERICAN STAGE. VOL. 2. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1876, by WHEAT & CORNETT, in the Office GOOD FOR NOTHING: A Comic Drama, in One Act. NO. 14. Char. [L.] Give it to me; one of them is sure to be in presently, and as I mean to wait a bit, I can tell 'em for you. Simp. [R.] Then please to inform them that my father sent me for the half year's rent over-due, and if it's not forthcoming in one hour from this time, they must take the consequences. Char. They'll pay, don't be afraid. Simp. Whether they do or not we want to get rid of them, as we don't intend for the future to let our house to any but respectable people. Char. They're honest and hard-working- Char. What is ? Simp. People that are punctual in their payments and are never seen in an ale-house. Be SCENE. A Room in a Cottage at Windsor. A sides, there's that girl they have adopted-the door in flat centre, opening into the street; on neighbors all say she's quite a nuisance-knocking R. H. of door a window, practical, backed by at doors and running away, throwing stones-I street; on L. H. of door a bench, on which is a received such a thump on the head the other day jug of water, a brown wash-hand basin and a from one, that I didn't know what I was about large lump of yellow soap. Over the back of a for a week-breaking windows, and continually wooden chair on L. H. hangs a rough towel; a playing with all the boys in the parish. Respectshoe-brush and a comb on the chair. Over the able people don't like it. Good morning; it's bench at the back is a little broken looking-glass. now twelve o'clock-I shall be here again in an A fire-place, L. H. 2 E., with fender, fire-irons, hour for the rent, and must have it. Give my etc. On the wall, L. H. 3 E., a little book-shelf, compliments to your sister. [Exit D. F. C. with a few books on it. Set door R. H. 2 E. A Char. He's quite right about Nan, and it's realcommon table, with a drawer in it, R. H. centre of ly a great pity she's so neglected. I'm sure she the stage; wooden chairs and a stool, and other has a good heart, and with a little care might be articles of humble furniture. YOUNG MR. SIMPSON opens the door in F. C. and looks in. made a very nice girl. But Tom and Harry are always squabbling about her--one wants her to be this, the other that one won't have her corrected, the other says she ought to be; meanSimpson. As usual, nobody in the way! [Ad- time, she is left to run about as wild as a colt, is vances and knocks on the table.] Anybody at taught nothing, while her manners and her lanhome? Of course not-the house left to take care guage are neither those of a girl nor a boy. I of itself, as it always is, while that precious daugh- think it's time somebody ought to speak seriously ter, as they call her, of my father's two tenants, to them about her, and, as I'm a friend of all parwho rent this house, is playing in the streets. ties, hang me if I don't! These people must be got rid of-they're by no means respectable, and as for the furniture, nothing can be more disreputable. What rubbish! the tables and chairs all notched and cut-plates and dishes, too, all cracked. My father will be lucky if he finds enough on the premises to cover the arrears of rent. CHARLEY appears at the door in F. C., a carpenter's basket with tools, etc., on his shoulders. Charley. Tom or Harry at home? Simp. [R. H.] At home? No! I came here with a message from my father, the landlord, and I can't find any one to give it to. [Crosses to R. Enter HARRY, D. F. C., down L. Char. About the streets, as usual. Harry. Ah, I wish I could have my way; I'd make a very different girl of her. But whatever I propose Tom objects to, and we get to words; and, though he's a little fellow, he's sometimes so violent that I give in for a quiet life, yet, if I liked, I could soon shut up his steam. Char. I know you both mean well, and adopted her from the best motives. Harry. [violently.] But I tell you she's getting very troublesome, and has quite the upper hand of both of us. Char. You needn't go into a passion with me. Harry. I like to speak my mind right out at once, even if I check my speed afterwards. Now, Tom always begins as cool as a cucumber, saying he's not going into a passion, and all the while he keeps poking his fire, and heaping on coals, till he makes such a blaze-and having no safety-valve, burst goes the boiler and over goes the train. Char. Tom asked me to pick a bit with you today, and, after I've been on a little business, I shall come back and have a talk with you about the girl. Harry. [L.] I've made a precious fool of myself. I became security for one of the fellows on our line; he went off to Scotland, and if I had not paid half of it a month ago, I should have been locked up and have had all my hair cut off. And I don't know now what they'll do to me, if I don't get five pounds to pay the rest to-day. Char. [c.] You're in a pretty plight, then; and I'm sorry to say I can't help you, for I parted with all my ready money last Saturday to pay for the things I've bought in setting my sister up in business. Harry. Suppose we take the money we've saved up towards putting Nan 'prentice to something? We've been a long time adding to it. I dare say there's six or seven pounds in the box, and we'd soon make it up again. Harry. I wish you would, and get something settled. She's very fond of us I know, though now and then I think she likes Tom best, and Tom. [crossing to c.] Now listen to me quietly. that makes me savage; but when I think of her We've both stinted ourselves often, to keep our poor grandfather, I feel as if I could put up with promise to put by a little every week to place Nan anything. You didn't know him, poor fellow! out in the world; through a great many temptaHe was a waterman here, and Nan being without tions we've never touched that little hoard. It's father or mother, he was her only relation. One all very well to say we'll soon make it up again, day, at a regatta, we were all in a boat together, and through some stupidity of mine or Tom's, I don't know which, the boat upset, and the poor old man was drowned; and so we took Nan to bring up and take care of between us. [TOM heard without, calling to NAN. Tom. Come down that ladder directly!-come down, I say come down! Harry. There she is again, at some mischief or other. Enter Toм, a large cabbage in his hand. Tom. Now I don't want to put myself or anybody else out of the way, and for the future I don't mean to get angry about anything, because it's not my nature and it makes me ill. But I must observe-and I do so quietly and calmly-if something, I don't care what, is not settled this very day about that girl, if something is not done to keep her out of mischief and to teach her to earn her livelihood-I'm not going into a passion -no! but if we don't come to some agreement, as sure as I dash this cabbage on the ground, I'll smash everything in the house to shivers. Harry. [violently.] It's all your fault, it is. You never will correct her; you let her do whatever she likes, and when you take her to task, and she quietly tells you the truth of things, instead of speaking properly, you laugh at her. She of course thinks there can be no harm in her tricks, and goes on again worse than ever. Now, is that right, Charley? Tom. I'm glad, Harry, that you have the good sense to talk quietly on the subject, because people can never be determined-never can come to any understanding of anything-unless they're perfectly cool, and, by jingo!— Char. [on R. H., crosses to c., interrupting.] Now, stop a moment; we'll talk this all over after dinner; in the meantime, I've got a message for you. Your landlord's son has been here; he says the half year's rent must be paid to-day, or you'll both be in trouble. but we never do. We may think to do it, but it's all bubble and squeak-it can't be done. And I say calmly, and in the softest tone of voice possible, if one penny of that money is touched but for what it was meant for, I'll kick him that does it over the bridge and back again, and all round the town, as I'd kick this cabbage. [Kicks cabbage about stage and throws himself into a chair. Harry. Well, then, settle what she's to be at once, and get rid of the money. Tom. That's what I want. Now let us talk over the matter calmly, because letting her go on from week to week in this way won't do. Harry. Of course it won't; especially spoiling her as you do. Tom. I don't spoil her-it's you. Harry. Oh, that's very good! Didn't she come home the other day wet through and through? and though she wouldn't say how she came so, she had tumbled into the river, I'm sure of it. Tom. Well, now, don't rake up that again. If she did fall in the river, what o' that? People do fall in rivers sometimes. But what the deuceI thought we were to settle what she's to be! Harry. Then go on. Tom. Very well; I've been speaking to a very respectable laundress about her. Harry. She shan't be a laundress ! Tom. Well, I'll argue the matter quietly. What the deuce would you have her? Harry. [loudly.] Something genteel and clean; the superintendent of a first-class refreshmentroom on one of the great lines. Tom. Nonsense! that won't suit her! To be laced and titivated, and wrap up tarts in whiteybrown paper, and hand boiling hot soup and scalding tea to hungry passengers, with a minute and a half to swallow 'em in, won't do. Char. How can you settle on what she's to be, when you haven't yet taught her to read? Harry. I have often told Tom so! Tom. I'm sure she's been sent to two or three old women; but she didn't take to it and it seemed to worry her. It's no use forcing learning; you can't knock it into people's heads. I never Tom. [R. H.] I don't know what we are to do; all that I had got towards it I lent to a poor woman a fortnight ago, who was in great distress; she said she would be sure to pay me yesterday, could knock it into mine, I know, and I don't and when I called to-day I found her worse off think I'm much the worse for it, am I? than ever. It's always the way. [Loud shouts heard without, R. U. E. SIMPSON appears at the door in D. F. C., covered with mud, his hat broken and knocked over his eyes, and a dab of mud on his face. The MOB appear, shouting and laughing, at window R. F. They disappear from window. Simp. Here's a state I'm in! Look at me! look at me! Tom. What's the matter? Harry. Who's done this? Simp. Who's done it? Can you ask such a question? Why, your precious daughter, as you call her; and I demand her immediate punishment. It's infamous! shameful! Tom. Where is she? [Crosses to R. H. Harry. Come in! Come in directly! the young gentleman at the coal-shed. It was my turn to pitch the nicker, and I did, and I kick'd it all through to the last base, without even stopping on a line or going out at the corners; and I was getting so tired, for you must do it all on one leg, you know, 'cause if you come down on t'other leg you're out. Tom. Yes, I recollect when I was a boyHarry. [interested.] So do I-go on, Nan. Nan. Well, just as I was winning the game, and no cheating, and was hopping with the nicker on my toe, so![Hopping. Tom. Ah, yes, I know. Nan. Who should come by but young Mr. Simpson. I suppose he couldn't see where he was going, for he pushed up against me, and made me lose the game, and just as I was winning-nobody likes that, you know; so I gave him a push, and he fell against Billy; then Billy NAN enters, D. F. C., with her pinafore all awry, coal-shed; then he got pushed from one to the pushed him against the young gentleman at the a head of hair cut like a boy's, laced-up boots, other, till we all had such a capital game with frock torn in several places. She advances him at "none o' my child;" then he got savage, sheepishly, with apprehension, down the centre. and that's just what we wanted; and then he Tom. [R. H.] Come here! It's now high time hit next door, and next door hit him again; there should be something settled with you; then we made a ring to see fair play, but young there must be an end to all this and though I Mister Simpson turned cowardly custard, and mean only to talk in a gentle manner to you, you something was thrown at him, then he run away, mustn't think I'm not angry, because I am; and, and we all run after him, and pelted him; and for the future, it's fit you should know the more then the more we pelted the more we wanted to; gently I speak the more I mean what I say. So and then he run in here, and here he is—and, oh, now, I ask you calmly, what the devil have you it was such fun! been doing? Nan. [C.] It was all his fault! Tom. [laughing.] Ha, ha! Lord, how I wish I'd been among 'em! Harry. Ha, ha! So do I; I'd ha' given any [Pointing to SIMPSON on R. H. Simp. How dare you say so? How dare-thing. Tom. Mr. Simpson, leave her to me and Harry ; we are the proper persons to talk to her, and it's only by mildness Simp. But allow me Tom. [loudly.] Hold your tongue! Harry. No, let him speak-let him make his complaint. How can we learn who's right and who's wrong, if we don't hear both sides? Tom. [to SIMPSON.] Go on, then. Nan. Oh, don't I wish you had! he'd ha' been served out ten times worse! Tom. Ha, ha, ha! capital! Nan. Wasn't it? ha, ha, ha! Char. [shaking his head.] And this is what you call correcting her, is it? Tom. Oh, ah! [To NAN.] Now you must know that all this was very wrong, and [smothering a laugh] I'm very angry-and-and- Upon my soul, I can't say anything to her! take another course; and, I must say, I consider you a vulgar set of people altogether, and the sooner the parish is rid of such rubbish the better. Simp. I was coming along very quietly, with another message to you from my father, and was only thinking of what I had to say, when I sud- Simp. I thought as much-however, I shall denly found my toes jumped upon, my person knocked this way and that, and my hat driven over my eyes with great violence. I tried to escape, but it was no use the faster I ran the faster I was followed, while the shower of stones that rattled about me was positively alarming. But, if you doubt what I say, look at me! Tom. And Nan did all this? Tom. [crossing to SIMPSON.] Now I'm going to talk to you like a father, and give you a little gentle advice. When a person comes to make a complaint, or ask a favor, he should keep a civil tongue in his head, for being sarcy is not the way to get what he wants. Now, I intend to speak very mildly. You told your tale; then we heard the other, and meant to do you justice; but when you come to talk about vulgar people, and ridding Harry. [L. H.] Don't frighten the girl. the parish of rubbish, I can only say you're a hear her story, and then see what's to be done. miserable, half-starved, two-forked parsnip, and Now, Nan, don't be afraid-speak; only mind you if you don't instantly get out of this house, I'll tell truth. kick you out! Now Simp. With the aid of her companions. Let's Char. She won't tell anything else, take my word for that. Nan. [in a low tone.] I was only playing- Simp. [crosses to C., and retreating to the door.] You shall hear from me again! Tom. Get out! [Kicking at him.] Get out! [Comes down, R. C. Simp. [going out at the D. F. c.] You shall hear Nan. I was only playing at hop-scotch with Nan. [running to the door and calling after him.] Tell-tale tit! when will you call again? Ha ha! [Coming down L. H.] He hasn't got much by coming here. Tom. I didn't lose my temper then, did I? No; when you want a person to understand what you mean, there's nothing like keeping cool-a little priggish-confounded- [To NAN, who is on the L. H., winding up a top.] I must have some talk with you another time. Now I'll go and see about getting this rent together. I think I know two or three good fellows that will lend me a helping hand, and I can't expect much mercy from the landlord now. You'll have your bit o' dinner with us, Charley, at any rate; and, Harry, if I can get something to help you, I will! [At the door and speaking to NAN.] Now, none of your tricks while I'm gone, because I won't have it. [Exit Toм, D. F. C. Harry. I'll go and see what I can do, for we are both in a terrible scrape; and if I can't get five pounds between this and three o'clock, I don't think I shall be driving my engine tomorrow. Shan't be gone long, Charley. Mind you keep indoors, miss. [Exit HARRY, D. F. C. Char. [crosses to her.] Well, Nan, I don't wish to talk unkindly to you, because it's not altogether your fault that you're so wild and unlike what a young woman ought to be. Your two fathers are more to blame than you are. Nan. You had better not speak against my fathers; for when I hear anything of them I don't like, my fingers double up as tight as a ball, and I feel as if I could knock any one down; and I shouldn't like to feel so to you, so you'd better be quiet. Char. I like you for that, Nan. I like to see everybody stand up for those who belong to them, or have been kind to them, right or wrong. Nan. So do I, and I always will, too. Char. It's a great pity a girl of your spirit is not made to be useful. Nan. I am useful sometimes. I often fetch the beer, and take a good drink on the way for my trouble; and when I'm sent for a loaf, you should only see how I pick it all round! Oh, I do love to pick a loaf! It seems always much nicer than having a good slice. Char. It's very wrong to do it, I can tell you. Nan. Is it? I don't think so. Char. No, because you're never properly corrected. Nan. Oh, stuff! I hate people always saying to me you mustn't do this, and you mustn't do that. I like to do just as I please. I know the more I'm told not to do a thing the more I feel the want to do it, and I'm never easy till it's done, either. Char. Ah! Nan, I wish I had the charge of you! Nan. Lord! do you, Charley? Char. I think I could improve you, and in time make you fit to be some honest fellow's wife. Now, there's a young woman that I admire very much; she's not handsome, but she takes a pride in herself, as a girl ought. Nan. [staring at CHARLEY.] What does she do? Char. In the first place, she's always tidy and fit to be seen. Nan. Oh! and you don't think I am? Nan. What more is she? Char. She hasn't a very fine head of hair, but, by often properly combing and brushing it, she manages to make it look very nice. Nan. I only take my fingers to mine. Char. And though I've seen a much prettier mouth than she has, yet she keeps her teeth so white, that it's always worth while to make her laugh, if only to get a look at them. Nan. I don't know whether you'd find it worth while to make me laugh, for I've never thought of my teeth; but I know they're good 'uns, if it's only by the crusts I can bite and the nuts I crack, sometimes hard as marbles. Char. Then her hands are always clean! Nan. Oh, dear! I've been throwing stones! Mine can't be very clean. [Hiding her hands under her pinafore. Char. And she's so clever with her needle, and wears such pretty caps, and all of her own making! Nan. Clever with her needle! I once learnt to gobblestitch. Char. When I walk out with her on a Sunday, she looks so fresh and nice, with her neat little shoe, and her white cotton stockings, and her smart little straw bonnet, with cherry-colored ribbons, that I feel quite proud of her. Nan. You wouldn't like to walk out with me on a Sunday? Char. Not as you are now. Nan. And that's pretty well as I always am, though I've got a cap and a bonnet; but I never think of putting them on. Well, and this young lady— Char. Writes and reads. I once read a beautiful letter she sent! Nan. To you? Char. Yes! Nan. Then you like her very much? [Thoughtfully. Char. Indeed I am. Well, good-by for a few minutes, I'm coming again presently; good-by. Won't you shake hands? Nan. No; I don't like to now, because my hands are not at all like that young lady's. Char. Very well, I shall see you again in a few minutes. Good-by. [Exit with box of tools. Nan. Good-by. A pretty cap and white stockings, neat little shoes, straw bonnet and ribbons, and clean hands, and a walk out on a Sunday! I never thought of being anything like that; but I never tried. He said he admires her-is very fond of her. I don't think anybody will ever admire me, and I begin to fancy I don't admire myself much I feel so unhappy, because Charley has always spoken very kindly to me, has given me apples, and has often taken my part when everybody's been speaking against me; and so I don't like to hear him say he admires anybody. No, it makes my heart feel all at once like a lump o' lead. Oh! and such spiteful thoughts seem coming over me, that I think, if I knew who this young lady was, I could snatch her cap off her head, and eat it. [A knock at the door in F. NAN opens it. A LIVERY SERVANT appears. Ser. When will they be in? Nan. Soon. Ser. Here's a letter for them. Take care of it. It's particular. [He hands NAN a letter and disappears. She closes the door. Nan. I wish I could read what's on this! I never felt to care about reading before! I couldn't write a beautiful letter to anybody if I was to try ever so hard. I hate letters! [Pulling open the table drawer.] There! [Throwing the letter into the drawer.] And there! [Shutting the drawer up violently.] I wish I had twopence; I'd run away. [Sits on a stool L. of iable in thought. Enter TOM, D. F. Harry. That's what you're always doing, and you'll cut away till there's nothing left. That will be the end of it. Tom. Henry! Harry. Now don't call me Henry; I don't like it; for I know when you call me so what line you want to work on. But I can tell you I'm now as much out of temper as you are, and if we both run on the same rail I shall clap on the thimble! yes, and then there'll be a smash! Tom. Henry! Harry. I tell you I'm in trouble-we're both in trouble; and as we not only can't help one another, but can't agree, the best way will be to Tom. Henry! Tom. Hollo, Nan! what's the matter? Nan. Nothing. I was only thinking. Tom. That's something new for you. Confound it! I can't get the money to pay this rent any-part. where. I've often befriended people when I had the means, and I thought I might get help in return when I wanted it. But nobody seems to have nothing now. Everybody's very short! just paid this, and just paid that; and very and that's all. [He sits in a chair R. C. rises and goes to him. Harry. I won't be called Henry. [Crosses. Tom. It's your name, Henry; and when I speak Have in that fashion, it's only to show you how genteel sorry! and mild I can be if I like. Henry, be quiet; I NAN want to talk to you like a father. You have named parting. Very well, as we shall neither of us have a roof over our heads very soon, I think it's the wisest thing to do. All that remains to be settled is, what's to become of Nan? There, haven't I spoken gently? Haven't I kept my temper? [Crosses to L. Nan. What are you thinking of? Tom. Nothing that you can understand. Nan. Well, then, you ought to make me! I don't like always feeling that I'm no use to anybody and good for nothing. Something vexes you, I know, and you ought to tell me what it is; and if I can't make it out at once, I shall soon, if you try. I ain't a fool. Tom. I will, then. We can't pay the rent! you know what that is-and somebody's coming here to take everything away to pay it! Nan. What, take away this table, and that stool and Tom. Don't you hear? everything! and then turn us out, with no place to go to. Nan. Turn us out? into the streets where I am always playing? Tom. Yes. Tom. Yes, I should think it was! Nan. Then why didn't you bring me up to be of use? Why didn't you put me in the way of doing something that might bring in a little? If it had been ever so little it would have helped, and then I should have felt proud and happy; and now I feel like a weed in a garden, fit for nothing but to be pulled up by the roots and thrown over the wall. Tom. Hollo, do you know who you're talking to? Do you know who I am? Now, I don't want to speak above a whisper, or put myself at all out of the way, but I'll be hanged if you ain't talking to me as if you was bringing me up, as if I was your adopted child, as if you was somebody and I was nobody. And if it wasn't for fear the people next door might hear me, I'd speak out as Iought to do, and say I won't have it! [Loudly. Enter HARRY, D. F. C. Comes down L. Harry. [L. H.] What's the matter now? Letting the steam off again? Always in a passion. Tom. [R. H.] I was only quietly cutting down a young shrub that was growing too fast. Harry. [R.] Nan, we are going to part company; who will you live with? Tom. Or in other words, which do you love best? Nan. [c., to HARRY, sitting on table.] When you are finishing what you say, I love you best; and I love you best [to Toм] when you're beginning to speak; but at all times I love you both dearly, and though I am but a poor girl who has been taught nothing, yet I do think when those who have always been together and who have loved one another get into trouble, that's the very time they ought to stand by one another. Yes, and to begin then to talk about parting is cowardly; yes, and you may be angry with me for what I've said if you like, but I couldn't help it; it was all here, [touching her head] and now it's all there. [Pointing to TOM and HARRY. [Sobbing, crosses to R. C. [Sobbing. Tom. Henry! Harry. Thomas! Tom. Let us go and take a quiet walk round the garden and talk the matter over. [Crossing to R. H.] It's the best way; we have been very good friends, haven't we, Harry ? Harry. Yes; [affected] very. Tom. Now don't fly out again; and we have liked one another very much, and I think what Nan has said is very right, and it gives me a notion she knows more than you and I put together. Now stop you here for a few minutes; now let's see what can be done for the best. I shouldn't like to part with you, Harry. Harry. I shouldn't like to part with you. Such friends and companions, Tom. Tom. After so many years' acquaintance. |