Irish Sketch in One Scene.

BY WARD WOOD.

CHARACTERS.

Bernard McFlynn.
Landlord.
Ellen McFlynn.
Policeman.

Interior of kitchen furnished poorly. Stove C. Baby in cradle, L. Wash tub, L. C. Table and chairs R. Ellen discovered at wash tub.

Ellen. Bad luck to the day I ever left my home and married Bernard McFlynn; sure he’s not done a stitch of work for nine years, and it’s only by me scrubbing my hands off at this wash tub that we’re able to live at all, at all. [Baby cries; goes to cradle and rocks.] There—there, that’s a foine boy; don’t cry, darling—that’s the lad who will be an honor to me. [Looks at baby.] Sure and he’s the image of John Morrissey, and who knows but that he’ll be an Alderman yet. [Returns to tub.] Sure and didn’t Mrs. Moriarity’s son, Shamus, get a position on the horse cars, and he wasn’t named after John Morrissey either. Well, as the blind man said: “We’ll see what we’ll see.”

[Enter Bernard McFlynn, C. D.]

[Takes off coat and hat, hands them to Ellen.

Ber. Mrs. Elenore McFlynn, would you be so precipitate as to remove this ulster and get me my dressing-gown and slippers; I have business to attend to.

Ellen. Sure and I think it’s time you had; it’s been nine years since you did attend to any.

Ber. Aisy now, Mrs. McFlynn, the business I have to attend to is of a political nature.

Ellen. Oh, ho!

Ber. (Sits at table.) Get me my writing imperials, the business is of importance, and must be attended to immediately, if not sooner.

Ellen. (Gets pen, ink and paper.) Sure, and is it reading writing you are going to do?

Ber. (Biz of looking over a large pile of documents—calls Ellen to him.) Ellen, come sit you down, and I’ll show you what position I hold in political affairs. (Ellen sits, Bernard reads letter in a very pompous manner.) “Hon. Bernard McFlynn—Sir, in appreciation of your services in the late political struggle, you have been unanimously appointed Engineer of the Morgue, a position of trust and responsibility. The duties attending the office are light, the hours of attendance being from 5 A. M. to 4 A. M. Report for duty at once. Respectfully, Claude Mulligan, secretary.” Now, Ellen, that’s an easy position; only an hour a day, from 5 to 4. (Rises, takes hat and coat.) Well, this business must be attended to at once (starting off.).

Ellen. (Calling him.) How long will you be gone, Bernard? you know we have nothing to eat in the house, and little Johnny Morrissey has grown hump-back from the want of food.

Ber. When I return from the City Hall, Ellen, we will hold an investigation as to the sanitary condition of the infant. [Exit C. L.

Ellen. (Comes down front.) Sure and it’s a nice job Bernard has got, begorra. Engineer of the Morgue, and only has to work an hour a day. (Rearranges the table. Knock at door.) Come in!

[Enter Landlord.]

Land. Mrs. McFlynn, this is the last time I will call on you for the rent; I have been put off with promises once too often, and if you don’t pay up to-morrow you will have to leave.

Ellen. Leave, is it? Sure and it’s that same thing we intend to do. And it’s not heard you have of the position Bernard has got?

Land. Position! What position!

Ellen. Sure and he has been elected Engineer of the Morgue by a large majority, and we intend to leave your dirty hovel and move up on Lexicon avenue in the morning. Now, Mr. O’Grady, put that in your pipe and smoke it.

Land. Perhaps you will and perhaps you won’t. Engineer or no engineer, he can’t beat me.

Ellen. [Jumping up excitedly.] Beat, is it? You want a beating? Well, Mr. O’Grady, let me inform you that I can give you all the beating you want myself.

[Strikes at him. Biz ad lib. Throws loaf of bread at him. O’Grady dodges it and it hits Bernard, who is just entering C. D.

Ber. [Tipsy.] And is this the way you amuse yourself during my absence? Do you think I have nothing to do but buy bread for you to be firing round in that way? After a while you will be wanting plum pudding, or poie to be playing base ball with? What’s all this row about, anyhow?

[Staggers back and falls in the cradle. Baby cries. Ellen runs over to cradle and takes up baby.

Ellen. This dirty spalpeen came in here and insulted me.

Ber. [Jumps up—goes to O’Grady.] Insulted you? insulted the wife of Bernard McFlynn, Engineer of the Morgue! [Takes off coat.] Sit you down, Ellen. I will attend to this matter myself.

[Fights with O’Grady; Ellen joins in, and they throw him out of the window; Bernard comes down, sits at table, and Ellen prepares supper.

Ber. Now, Ellen, get me my supper, and get me the black bottle from under the piano. I’ll have to make a speech to-night, and I want my throat clear. [Reads paper; baby cries.] Damn that baby!

Ellen. Oh, Bernard, sure and the baby can’t help it; don’t be so cross, and eat your supper, that’s a good man.

Ber. Supper, is it? And what have you got for supper?

Ellen. Well, I’ve got some nice pork, and——

Ber. (Excitedly.) Ellen, do you think I’m a sausage machine, to be grinding up pork every day? No, Mrs. McFlynn, I’ll not do it!

Ellen. Well, what would you like? How would some canary bird eyes and pigeon milk suit you? Or would you rather have a bird of paradise on toast?

[Sits at table.

Ber. Don’t be so kleptomaniac in your remarks. I’ll have that bottle a little more on my side of the table.

Ellen. Sure, and it’s my money that bought it, and I’ll keep it where it is.

Ber. Ho, ho! You’re standing on your high horse to-day. I suppose before long you’ll be wanting to celebrate your golden wedding, or silver wedding, and be bringing all your poor relations here to live on me.

Ellen. Sure, an’ not one of my relations ever asked a thing of you, and as to my celebrating my golden wedding, or silver wedding, or whatever you call it, I celebrated my wooden wedding when I married a block head, do you mind that now?

Ber. Ellen, if you cast any more of your conflections on me I’ll brain you with this pitcher.

Ellen. (Jumps up.) Well, I guess not, says Timothy Conner; I’m boss of this house and I’ll do as I like. Sure it was my political influence that got your position, and I’ll have you dismissed with impunity.

Ber. Ellen, the dignity of my position will not allow me to quarrel with a woman; but if you say another word, I’ll knock you down with the stove.

Ellen. (Crying.) That’s right; go on—cry out so Mrs. McGillan and the folks on the top flure can hear you. If my cousin Terrence was here he——

Ber. (Jumps up, overturns table, etc.) Terrence, is it? the mean, dirty blackguard, I’d——

Ellen. (Hits him with coffee pot.) Take that, and that. [Clinch, struggle, fall over stove, baby cries. Policeman rushes in, they both turn on him, and push him into cradle. Biz ad lib.

[CURTAIN.]