The William Henry Letters

Lady. Carry them off, can't you?

Boy. Father wants to know what you'll take for your dog, running. Father said he'd give a dollar, an' risk the ketchin' on him.

Lady. Dollar? No. Not if he were dead! Not if I knew he were drowned, and the fishes had eaten him, would I sell my darling pet for a paltry dollar!

Boy (going). Good mornin'. Guess I'll be goin'. If I find your dog, I won't (aside) let you know.

Exit Boy, with bow and scrape.

Lady (writes again, and repeats). Lost, strayed, or stolen. A cur – (Knock at the door.) Come! (Lays down pen.)

Enter Mrs. Mulligan.

Mrs. Mulligan. An' is it yourself lost a dog, thin?

Lady (eagerly). Yes. A small, white, curly, silky dog. Have you seen him?

Mrs. Mulligan. Och, no. But't was barkin' all night he was, behint th' 'ouse. An' the b'ys, – that's me Pat an' Tim, they drooned him, mum, bad luck to 'em, in the mornin' arly.

Lady. And did you see him?

Mrs. Mulligan. No, shure.

Lady. And where is he now?

Mrs. Mulligan. O, it's safe he is, Pat tould me, to the bottom o' No Bottom Pond, mum.

Lady. And how do you know 't is my dog?

Mrs. Mulligan. Faith, an' whose dog should it be, thin?

Lady. Send your boys, and I'll speak with them.

Mrs. Mulligan (going). I'll send them, mum. Mornin' mum.

Exit Mrs. Mulligan. Another tap at the door.

Lady. O, this is not to be borne! Come!

Enter Countrywoman with bandbox, – not an old woman.

Lady (earnestly). If it's about a dog, tell me all you know at once! Is he living?

Countrywoman. Yes'm, but he's quite poorly. I think dogs shows their sickness, same as human creturs do. Course they have their feelin's.

Lady. Do tell quick.

Countrywoman. Just what I want, for I'm in a hurry myself. So I'll jump right inter the thick on 't. You see last night when my old man was ridin' out o' town in his cart, with some o' his cabbages left over, for garden sarse hadn't been very brisk all day, and he was late a comin' out on account o' the off ox bein' some lame, and my old man ain't apt to hurry his critters, for a marciful man is marciful to his beasts, you —

Lady. But about the dog!

Countrywoman. Wal, the old man was a ridin' along, slow, you know, – I alwers tell him he'll never set the great pond afire, – and a countin' over his cabbageheads and settlin' the keg o' molasses amongst 'em, and a little jug of – (nods and winks and smiles), – jest for a medicine, you know. For we never do, – I nor the old man, – never, 'xcept in case o' sickness.

Lady (impatiently). But what about the dog?

Countrywoman. Wal, he was a ridin' along, and jest got to the outskirts o' the town, when he happened to see two boys a squabblin' which should have a dog, – a little teenty white curly mite of a cretur —

Lady. Yes! Go on! Go on!

Countrywoman. And he asked 'em would they take fifty cents apiece and give it up. For he knew 't would be rewarded in the newspapers. And they took the fifty.

Lady (eagerly). And what did he do with him? Where is he now?

Countrywoman. Why, I was goin' to ride in with the old man this mornin' to have my bunnet new done over, and I took the dog along. And we happened to see that 'ere notice, and he and I together, we spelt it out! (Opening bandbox.) Now look in here! Snug as a bug, right in the crown o' my bunnet Seems poorly, but he'll pick up. (Takes out a white lapdog.)[1 - A white lapdog may be easily made of wool and wire.]

Lady (snatches him, and hugs and kisses him). 'T is my Carlo. O my precious, precious pet! Ah, he is too weak to move. I must feed him and put him to sleep. (Rises to go out.)

Countrywoman. But the five dollars, marm!

Lady. O, you must call again. I can't think of any paltry five dollars, now. (Exit.)

Countrywoman (calling out). I'll wait, marm!

Enter Mike.

Mike. An' what bisness are ye doin' here?

Countrywoman. Waiting for my pay.

Mike. Pay, is it? Och, she'll niver pay the day. She's owin' me wages, an' owin' the cook, and Mrs. Flarty that scoors, and the millinery lady, an' 't is "Carl agin," she sez. "Carl agin. Can't ye carl agin?"

Countrywoman. Then I'll get mine now. (Takes off shawl, and sits down. Takes out long blue stocking, and goes to knitting, first pinning on her knitting-sheath.) I don't budge, without the pay.

Mike looks on admiringly. Curtain drops.

Whole Word

Clerk standing behind counter, with shawls and various dry goods to sell. Also rolls or pieces of carpet, oil and other kinds. Various placards on the walls, – "No credit." "Goods marked down!" &c. Enter Old Woman.

Old Woman (speaking in rather high key). Do you keep stockings?

Clerk (handing box of stockings). O yes. Here are some, very good quality.

Old Woman (examining them). Mighty thin, them be.

Clerk. I assure you, they are warranted to wear.

Old Woman. To wear out, I guess.