  An Irish Family Sketch. BY MART W. HANLEY. CHARACTERS. Bernard O’Rielly. Scene.—Ordinary tenement house room. Stove, R. Table, C. Chairs by table. Bureau, L., and cot. Curtain rises, disclosing Bridget combing her hair at bureau. Brid. Arrah, siven o’clock. Shure, it is time for Mary to arrive. But she’s late to-night. Shure, since she’s been workin’ in the playin’ card factory it’s too high-toned she has become to ride up town on the horse-car. It is on the back balcony av a truck that she rowls along. Hark, I guess that that is her footstep now. [Listens. Door opens, and Mary enters, carrying lunch-box. Sets it on table. Mary. Supper ready, mother? Brid. Supper ready! It is not hungry yez are afther the ilegant lunch that I put up for yez? Mary. Ah, what are you giving us? Call that a nice lunch! Ham and crackers! that’s a sweet tuck-out for a hard working girl, ain’t it? Brid. That’ll do, miss. Perhaps yez would like charlotty ruse and banana fritters wid egg sauce. Any girl that don’t like ham and crackers is too fastidious to live. Mary. Well, I don’t care; all the other girls have nice things to eat. It gives you away to the gang to see me with such a curbstone banquet. Brid. It gives me away to the gang, does it, ye hussy! I’ll give yez to comprehend that divil a cint do I care for the gang. Mary Ann Rebecca O’Rielly, sit right down on that chair and give your tongue a rest, or I’ll lather ye over the head wid the ironin’ board. Mary. (Sitting down.) All right. But hurry up with supper, mother. Brid. ’Pears to me you are in an awful hurry. Mary. So I am. I want to go to the Hoolihan masquerade ball. Brid. Yez want to go to the Hoolihan massacree ball? Divil a step do you stir there to-night. No daughter av mine shall go to a massacree ball and dance wid five-cent barbers. Do yez want to be set down as a spieler? Mary. But I want to go awful bad. All the boys and girls are going to take it in. Brid. Yis; an’ the police will take thim in. Where is the ball to be held, at the Academy of Sculpture? Mary. No, ma’am, at Wulhalla Hall. Brid. Wulhalla Hall? That’s a foine, noice, jinteel place for a young girl to go to. Who are ye goin’ to go wid? Mary. Denny Burns. Brid. Who? Mary. Denny Burns. Brid. Niver! Do ye suppose that I would allow me daughter to go to a ball wid such a pill as he? Dinny Burns is a foine young man—— Mary. Of course he is; he’s a masher. Brid. I’ll mash his head if he comes foolin’ around here. A feller that wears a soup dish hat and a pickadilly collar, and wears a bunch of asparagus in his button-hole. Begorra, Mary Ann, next yez will be asking me to allow yez to go down to Coney Island wid an alderman’s son. Mary. Denny’s a real nice boy. Brid. Ye are giving me taffy. Mary. And he says that you are the freshest old daisy on this block. Brid. And ye stood by and heard him insulting of yer mother widout kicking him over? Mary. Sure he meant it as a compliment. Brid. Oh, he did, did he? Mary. Yis, and he said that he couldn’t tell you from me widout a telescope. He said that it was wonderful how you concealed your good looks. Brid. Well, there’s some good in the lad yet, and—— [Enter Bernard O’Rielly at door. Ber. Bridget? Brid. Yis, Bernard. Ber. Take off me ulster, and bring me me smokin’ jacket. [Takes off ragged coat and dons linen duster much worn, which Bridget brings him. Brid. Are yez hungry, ould man? Ber. Hungry! Be Heaven, I could ate a plate ov mortar! What have yez for supper? Brid. Corn beef and cabbage. Ber. Corn beef and cabbage. Brid. Yis. Ber. Woman, you’ll drive me mad. Corn beef and cabbage is nice food for a hard working man. Why don’t yez have ice cream and pie? Brid. Where’s the money to get it wid? Ber. Buy a lottery ticket, me daisy. Bridget O’Rielly, if I come home to-morrow night and find corn beef and cabbage for supper I’ll slaughter yez. Mary. Dad, why don’t you buy a new dicer? Ber. Do what? Mary. Strike a fresh kady. Ber. Mary Ann, I wasn’t brought up in Frinch. Did that horse car conductor that sint yez the boquet av peetoonias larn ye the articulation? Yez’ll be settin’ up a Vienna Bakery next. Mary. Oh, you can’t tumble for a cent. Why don’t you get a new hat? Ber. A new hat! What’s the matter wid this? [Takes off a battered stovepipe.] I’ve only worn it seventeen years. Next yez will be axin me to purchase a pair av low-necked shoes, and some giddy socks. Mary. That hat looks as if it was called in. Get a gun and shoot it. Ber. I’ll get a cannon and stab you. Bridget, is the corn beef and cabbage ripe? Brid. Shure it is. Come take your sates at the table. [Bridget puts eatables on the table, and all sit down. Bernard picks up a loaf of bread, bites it, and throws it at Bridget. Brid. Bernard O’Rielly, are ye mad? Ber. No, I’m insane. The next time ye buy bread, Bridget, see that it isn’t stuffed wid bricks. I’ve left three of me teeth in the loaf. Brid. Shure, it’s good. Ber. Good for pavin the streets. If the Czar of Rushia had had cannon balls as hard as that bread, he’d a licked the bloody Turks long ago. Brid. Thin I’ll throw it away. Ber. No, yez won’t. Save it, and I’ll kill a cat wid it. Pass me the butter. Mary. The butter’s strong enough to walk to ye. Ber. No criticisms, young leddy; if the butter’s good enough for yer ancistor, it is good enough for yez. What are ye all dressed up fur to-night? Mary. I’m going to a ball. Ber. What ball? Mary. The Hoolihan’s masquerade ball. Ber. Yez ain’t. Divil a one of the Hoolihan’s marquerade have got money enough to buy their own chewin’ tobacco. Brid. Let the girl go. Ber. Niver; she can go around to church, and see them bury Pat McGinness, if she wants relaxation. Who was she goin’ to the ball wid? Brid. Denny Burns. Ber. A young thafe that gets fifty cints a week playin’ policy. Mary Ann, if I catch that hypothecation around this chateau, I’ll break his neek, do you savvy? Mary. Then I can’t go wid him? Ber. No, me leddy. Stay at home and read yez hymn-book, so that yez will be able to sing, “Hould me Foat,” when the time comes for the torch-light picnics. Bridget, take off this overdress of mine, and bring me me spring overcoat. Brid. Shure, we’re using your spring coat for a tablecloth. Ber. I suppose so. And I’ve been carryin’ the tablecloth around all day for a chest-protector. But I must away. Brid. Where are yez goin’? Ber. I have siven cints, and I am goin’ down to Casey’s to buy a dhrink. If either of yez are out of the house whin I come back I’ll kill yez both. Do yez moind? [Exit Bernard. Mary and Bridget both get up from the table and advance front. Mary puts on her bonnet. Brid. What are yez puttin’ on your tra-la-la hat for? Mary. To go to the ball with. Brid. Didn’t yez hear your father tell yez to stay at home? Mary. Oh, father’s an ould stick-in-the-mud. He can’t boss me. Brid. He’ll paralyze every sinew in your body. Mary. I ain’t afraid. If he tries any of his lugs on me Denny will put a head on him. Da—da, mother. Brid. If yez get killed at the ball it ain’t my fault. Mary. All right. Over the sewer, skip the gutter, cross the river, mother. [Exit at door. Brid. There she goes with her Latin conversation. Bedad, I guess I’ll take a nap. [Blows out candle on table. Stage darkens. [Enter Bernard at door. Ber. Eleven o’clock, and Bridget is asleep. Be the Heavens, I will wake her up; too much repose is injurious to the system. Bridget—Bridget! wake up, or I’ll kick your eyes open. Brid. (Getting up from cot.) What’s the matter? Where’s the fire? Ber. Ye are slothful, Bridget O’Rielly. Where is Mary? Brid. Asleep. [Aside.] May St. Peter pardhon me for the loie! Ber. It is well. If she had gone a-spielin’ to the Hoolihan masquerade I would have got a divorce from her. Mary. (Outside.) I didn’t try to mash the Dutch cucumber-peddler, Denny. Ber. Bridget, you have deceived me. That is Mary’s voice. Brid. I didn’t mane to, Bernard, but—— Ber. No buts; be fastidious in your defense. Madam, on to-morrow I may be in the prisoner’s dock at the court-house. Den. (Outside.) Go ’way, Mary Ann, you know you was tryin’ to shake me all the while. Mary. (Outside.) Speak low, or you’ll wake up father. Den. (Outside.) What d’yer ’spose I care for that ould gas-house terrier? Ber. Bridget, get me the carvin’ knife. I will go out and cut that villain’s liver out! Do you hear the epithet he’s fastenin’ on me? Brid. Be aisy; listen. Den. (Outside.) Your old woman, hey? Who cares for her, the ould dish-wrastler? When we get married, Mary, I’m goin’ to shoot her if she ever comes around the house. Brid. Shoot me! Blessed virgin, d’ye hear it? Bernard, where’s the ax? Give it to me till I chop the assassin up! Mary. (Outside.) Come into the room, Denny. The old folks have all gone to bed. Brid. The spalpeen’s comin’ into the room, d’ye moind it? Ber. Whist! hide, and we’ll give him ballyglory. [Bridget hides under table, Bernard behind bureau. Enter Mary and Denny at door. Mary. We have had a good racket, ain’t we, Denny? Den. Yez are givin’ it ter me straight. Did yer see me mash that son of cross-eyed McCarty for saying that yez had a foot like a giraffe? Mary. Did you kill him? Den. No; but I broke the sucker’s jaw. Where are the two old figger-heads? Mary. What figger-heads? Den. Those old flannel-mouths—yer father and mother. Ber. (Jumping out from bureau.) Oh, yez rapscallion! Bridget, hurl yerself out and we’ll salt this fresh herrin’. Brid. (Jumping out.) Othello, we have yez now. Slug him, Bernard. Den. What’s this, anyhow? Ber. Young man, yez have alluded disrespectfully to the great O’Rielly family. Be Heaven, yez must die! Den. What are yez slinging me—tacks? Ber. We’ll be afther slingin’ yez out av the window when the morgue comes along. Whoof! hit him, Bridget! [Bridget rushes at Denny. He knocks her down. Ber. Yez have raised yer fist against a daisy. Beware, I am coming. [Biz of fight between Bernard and Denny. Denny finally knocks Bernard under the table. Table falls on him. Denny seizes Mary in his arms and menaces Bridget with the teapot. Flats close in on tableau. [THE END.] |
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