[Long pause.]
WILLIEIt.
WINNIE[turning back front, joyful] Oh you are going to talk to me today, this is going to be a happy day! [Pause. Joy off.] Another happy day. [Pause.] Ah well, where was I, my hair, yes, later on, I shall be thankful for it later on. [Pause.] I have my—[raises hands to hat]—yes, on, my hat on—[lowers hands]—I cannot take it off now. [Pause.] To think there are times one cannot take off one’s hat, not if one’s life were at stake. Times one cannot put it on, times one cannot take it off. [Pause.] How often I have said, Put on your hat now, Winnie, there is nothing else for it, take off your hat now, Winnie, like a good girl, it will do you good, and did not. [Pause.] Could not. [Pause. She raises hand, frees a strand of hair from under hat, draws it towards eye, squints at it, lets it go, hand down.] Golden you called it, that day, when the last guest was gone—[hand up in gesture of raising a glass]—to your golden . . . may it never . . . [voice breaks] . . . may it never . . . [Hand down. Head down. Pause. Low.] That day. [Pause. Do.] What day? [Pause. Head up. Normal voice.] What now? [Pause.] Words fail, there are times when even they fail. [Turning a little towards Willie.] Is that not so, Willie? [Pause. Turning a little further.] Is not that so, Willie, that even words fail, at times? [Pause. Back front.] What is one to do then, until they come again? Brush and comb the hair, if it has not been done, or if there is some doubt, trim the nails if they are in need of trimming, these things tide one over. [Pause.] That is what I mean. [Pause.] That is all I mean. [Pause.] That is what I find so wonderful, that not a day goes by—[smile]—to speak in the old style—[smile off]—without some blessing—[Willie collapses behind slope, his head disappears, Winnie turns towards event]—in disguise. [She cranes back and down.] Go back into your hole now, Willie, you’ve exposed yourself enough. [Pause.] Do as I say, Willie, don’t lie sprawling there in this hellish sun, go back into your hole. [Pause.] Go on now, Willie. [Willie invisible starts crawling left towards hole.] That’s the man. [She follows his progress with her eyes.] Not head first, stupid, how are you going to turn? [Pause.] That’s it . . . right round . . . now . . . back in. [Pause.] Oh I know it is not easy, dear, crawling backwards, but it is rewarding in the end. [Pause.] You have left your vaseline behind. [She watches as he crawls back for vaseline.] The lid! [She watches as he crawls back towards hole. Irritated.] Not head first, I tell you! [Pause.] More to the right. [Pause.] The right, I said. [Pause. Irritated.] Keep your tail down, can’t you! [Pause.] Now. [Pause.] There! [All these directions loud. Now in her normal voice, still turned towards him.] Can you hear me? [Pause.] I beseech you, Willie, just yes or no, can you hear me, just yes or nothing.
[Pause.]
WILLIEYes.
WINNIE[turning front, same voice] And now?
WILLIE[irritated] Yes.
WINNIE[less loud] And now?
WILLIE[more irritated] Yes.
WINNIE[still less loud] And now? [A little louder.] And now?
WILLIE[violently] Yes!
WINNIE[same voice] Fear no more the heat o’ the sun. [Pause.] Did you hear that?
WILLIE[irritated] Yes.
WINNIE[same voice] What? [Pause.] What?
WILLIE[more irritated] Fear no more. [Pause.]
WINNIE[same voice] No more what? [Pause.] Fear no more what?
WILLIE[violently] Fear no more!
WINNIE[normal voice, gabbled] Bless you Willie I do appreciate your goodness I know what an effort it costs you, now you may relax I shall not trouble you again unless I am obliged to, by that I mean unless I come to the end of my own resources which is most unlikely, just to know that in theory you can hear me even though in fact you don’t is all I need, just to feel you there within earshot and conceivably on the qui vive is all I ask, not to say anything I would not wish you to hear or liable to cause you pain, not to be just babbling away on trust as it is were not knowing and something gnawing at me. [Pause for breath.] Doubt. [Places index and second finger on heart area, moves them about, brings them to rest.] Here. [Moves them slightly.] Abouts. [Hand away.] Oh no doubt the time will come when before I can utter a word I must make sure you heard the one that went before and then no doubt another come another time when I must learn to talk to myself a thing I could never bear to do such wilderness. [Pause.] Or gaze before me with compressed lips. [She does so.] All day long. [Gaze and lips again.] No. [Smile.] No no. [Smile off.] There is of course the bag. [Turns towards it.] There will always be the bag. [Back front.] Yes, I suppose so. [Pause.] Even when you are gone, Willie. [She turns a little towards him.] You are going, Willie, aren’t you? [Pause. Louder.] You will be going soon, Willie, won’t you? [Pause. Louder.] Willie! [Pause. She cranes back and down to look at him.] So you have taken off your straw, that is wise. [Pause.] You do look snug, I must say, with your chin on your hands and the old blue eyes like saucers in the shadows. [Pause.] Can you see me from there I wonder, I still wonder. [Pause.] No? [Back front.] Oh I know it does not follow when two are gathered together—[faltering]—in this way—[normal]—that because one sees the other the other sees the one, life has taught me that . . . too. [Pause.] Yes, life I suppose, there is no other word. [She turns a little towards him.] Could you see me, Willie, do you think, from where you are, if you were to raise your eyes in my direction? [Turns a little further.] Lift up your eyes to me, Willie, and tell me can you see me, do that for me, I’ll lean back as far as I can. [Does so. Pause.] No? [Pause.] Well never mind. [Turns back painfully front.] The earth is very tight today, can it be I have put on flesh, I trust not. [Pause. Absently, eyes lowered.] The great heat possibly. [Starts to pat and stroke ground.] All things expanding, some more than others. [Pause. Patting and stroking.] Some less. [Pause. Do.] Oh I can well imagine what is passing through your mind, it is not enough to have to listen to the woman, now I must look at her as well. [Pause. Do.] Well it is very understandable. [Pause. Do.] Most understandable. [Pause. Do.] One does not appear to be asking a great deal, indeed at times it would seem hardly possible—[voice breaks, falls to a murmur]—to ask less—of a fellow-creature—to put it mildly—whereas actually—when you think about it—look into your heart—see the other—what he needs—peace—to be left in peace—then perhaps the moon—all this time—asking for the moon. [Pause. Stroking hand suddenly still. Lively.] Oh I say, what have we here? [Bending head to ground, incredulous.] Looks like life of some kind! [Looks for spectacles, puts them on, bends closer. Pause.] An emmet! [Recoils. Shrill.] Willie, an emmet, a live emmet! [Seizes magnifying-glass, bends to ground again, inspects through glass.] Where’s it gone? [Inspects.] Ah! [Follows its progress through grass.] Has like a little white ball in its arms. [Follows progress. Hand still. Pause.] It’s gone in. [Continues a moment to gaze at spot through glass, then slowly straightens up, lays down glass, takes off spectacles and gazes before her, spectacles in hand. Finally.] Like a little white ball.
[Long pause. Gesture to lay down spectacles.]
WILLIEEggs.
WINNIE[arresting gesture] What?
[Pause.]
WILLIEEggs. [Pause. Gesture to lay down glasses.] Formication.
WINNIE[arresting gesture] What?
[Pause.]
WILLIEFormication.
[Pause. She lays down spectacles, gazes before her. Finally.]
WINNIE[murmur] God. [Pause. Willie laughs quietly. After a moment she joins in. They laugh quietly together. Willie stops. She laughs on a moment alone. Willie joins in. They laugh together. She stops. Willie laughs on a moment alone. He stops. Pause. Normal voice.] Ah well what a joy in any case to hear you laugh again, Willie, I was convinced I never would, you never would. [Pause.] I suppose some people might think us a trifle irreverent, but I doubt it. [Pause.] How can one better magnify the Almighty than by sniggering with him at his little jokes, particularly the poorer ones? [Pause.] I think you would back me up there, Willie. [Pause.] Or were we perhaps diverted by two quite different things? [Pause.] Oh well, what does it matter, that is what I always say, so long as
one . . . you know . . . what is that wonderful line . . . laughing wild . . . something something laughing wild amid severest woe. [Pause.] And now? [Long pause.] Was I lovable once, Willie? [Pause.] Was I ever lovable? [Pause.] Do not misunderstand my question, I am not asking you if you loved me, we know all about that, I am asking you if you found me lovable—at one stage. [Pause.] No? [Pause.] You can’t? [Pause.] Well I admit it is a teaser. And you have done more than your bit already, for the time being, just lie back now and relax, I shall not trouble you again unless I am compelled to, just to know you are there within hearing and conceivably on the semi-alert is . . . er . . . paradise enow. [Pause.] The day is now well advanced. [Smile.] To speak in the old style. [Smile off.] And yet it is perhaps a little soon for my song. [Pause.] To sing too soon is a great mistake, I find. [Turning towards bag.] There is of course the bag. [Looking at bag.] The bag. [Back front.] Could I enumerate its contents? [Pause.] No. [Pause.] Could I, if some kind person were to come along and ask, What all have you got in that big black bag, Winnie? give an exhaustive answer? [Pause.] No. [Pause.] The depths in particular, who knows what treasures. [Pause.] What comforts. [Turns to look at bag.] Yes, there is the bag. [Back front.] But something tells me, Do not overdo the bag, Winnie, make use of it of course, let it help you . . . along, when stuck, by all means, but cast your mind forward, something tells me, cast your mind forward, Winnie, to the time when words must fail— [she closes eyes, pause, opens eyes]—and do not overdo the bag. [Pause. She turns to look at bag.] Perhaps just one quick dip. [She turns back front, closes eyes, throws out left arm, plunges hand in bag and brings out revolver. Disgusted.] You again! [She opens eyes, brings revolver front and contemplates it. She weighs it in her palm.] You’d think the weight of this thing would bring it down among the . . . last rounds. But no. It doesn’t. Ever uppermost, like Browning. [Pause.] Brownie . . . [Turning a little towards Willie.] Remember Brownie, Willie? [Pause.] Remember how you used to keep on at me to take it away from you? Take it away, Winnie, take it away, before I put myself out of my misery. [Back front. Derisive.] Your misery! [To revolver.] Oh I suppose it’s a comfort to know you’re there, but I’m tired of you. [Pause.] I’ll leave you out, that’s what I’ll do. [She lays revolver on ground to her right.] There, that’s your home from this day out. [Smile.] The old style! [Smile off.] And now? [Long pause.] Is gravity what it was, Willie, I fancy not. [Pause.] Yes, the feeling more and more that if I were not held—[gesture]—in this way, I would simply float up into the blue. [Pause.] And that perhaps some day the earth will yield and let me go, the pull is so great, yes, crack all round me and let me out. [Pause.] Don’t you ever have that feeling, Willie, of being sucked up? [Pause.] Don’t you have to cling on sometimes, Willie? [Pause. She turns a little towards him.] Willie. [Pause.]
WILLIESucked up?
WINNIEYes love, up into the blue, like gossamer. [Pause.] No? [Pause.] You don’t? [Pause.] Ah well, natural laws, natural laws, I suppose it’s like everything else, it all depends on the creature you happen to be. All I can say is for my part is that for me they are not what they were when I was young and . . . foolish and . . . [faltering, head down] . . . beautiful . . . possibly . . . lovely . . . in a way . . . to look at. [Pause. Head up.] Forgive me, Willie, sorrow keeps breaking in. [Normal voice.] Ah well what a joy in any case to know you are there, as usual, and perhaps awake, and perhaps taking all this in, some of all this, what a happy day for me . . . it will have been. [Pause.] So far. [Pause.] What a blessing nothing grows, imagine if all this stuff were to start growing. [Pause.] Imagine. [Pause.] Ah yes, great mercies. [Long pause.] I can say no more. [Pause.] For the moment. [Pause. Turns to look at bag. Back front. Smile.] No no. [Smile off. Looks at parasol.] I suppose I might—[takes up parasol]—yes, I suppose I might . . . hoist this thing now. [Begins to unfurl it. Following punctuated by mechanical difficulties overcome.] One keeps putting off—putting up—for fear of putting up—too soon—and the day goes by—quite by—without one’s having put up—at all. [Parasol now fully open. Turned to her right she twirls it idly this way and that.] Ah yes, so little to say, so little to do, and the fear so great, certain days, of finding oneself . . . left, with hours still to run, before the bell for sleep, and nothing more to say, nothing more to do, that the days go by, certain days go by, quite by, the bell goes, and little or nothing said, little or nothing done. [Raising parasol.] That is the danger. [Turning front.] To be guarded against. [She gazes front, holding up parasol with right hand. Maximum pause.] I used to perspire freely. [Pause.] Now hardly at all. [Pause.] The heat is much greater. [Pause.] The perspiration much less. [Pause.] That is what I find so wonderful. [Pause.] The way man adapts himself. [Pause.] To changing conditions. [She transfers parasol to left hand. Long pause.] Holding up wearies the arm. [Pause.] Not if one is going along. [Pause.] Only if one is at rest. [Pause.] That is a curious observation. [Pause.] I hope you heard that, Willie, I should be grieved to think you had not heard that. [She takes parasol in both hands. Long pause.] I am weary, holding it up, and I cannot put it down. [Pause.] I am worse off with it up than with it down, and I cannot put it down. [Pause.] Reason says, Put it down, Winnie, it is not helping you, put the thing down and get on with something else. [Pause.] I cannot. [Pause.] I cannot move. [Pause.] No, something must happen, in the world, take place, some change, I cannot, if I am to move again. [Pause.] Willie. [Mildly.] Help. [Pause.] No? [Pause.] Bid me put this thing down, Willie, I would obey you instantly, as I have always done, honoured and obeyed. [Pause.] Please, Willie. [Mildly.] For pity’s sake. [Pause.] No? [Pause.] You can’t? [Pause.] Well I don’t blame you, no, it would ill become me, who cannot move, to blame my Willie because he cannot speak. [Pause.] Fortunately I am in tongue again. [Pause.] That is what I find so wonderful, my two lamps, when one goes out the other burns brighter. [Pause.] Oh yes, great mercies. [Maximum pause. The parasol goes on fire. Smoke, flames if feasible. She sniff s, looks up, throws parasol to her right behind mound, cranes back to watch it burning. Pause.] Ah earth you old extinguisher. [Back front.] I presume this has occurred before, though I cannot recall it. [Pause.] Can you, Willie? [Turns a little towards him.] Can you recall this having occurred before? [Pause. Cranes back to look at him.] Do you know what has occurred, Willie? [Pause.] Have you gone off on me again? [Pause.] I do not ask if you are alive to all that is going on, I merely ask if you have not gone off on me again. [Pause.] Your eyes appear to be closed, but that has no particular significance we know. [Pause.] Raise a finger, dear, will you please, if you are not quite senseless. [Pause.] Do that for me, Willie please, just the little finger, if you are still conscious. [Pause. Joyful.] Oh all five, you are a darling today, now I may continue with an easy mind. [Back front.] Yes, what ever occurred that did not occur before and yet . . . I wonder, yes, I confess I wonder. [Pause.] With the sun blazing so much fiercer down, and hourly fiercer, is it not natural things should go on fire never known to do so, in this way I mean, spontaneous like. [Pause.] Shall I myself not melt perhaps in the end, or burn, oh I do not mean necessarily burst into flames, no, just little by little be charred to a black cinder, all this—[ample gesture of arms]—visible flesh. [Pause.] On the other hand, did I ever know a temperate time? [Pause.] No. [Pause.] I speak of temperate times and torrid times, they are empty words. [Pause.] I speak of when I was not yet caught—in this way—and had my legs and had the use of my legs, and could seek out a shady place, like you, when I was tired of the sun, or a sunny place when I was tired of the shade, like you, and they are all empty words. [Pause.] It is no hotter today than yesterday, it will be no hotter tomorrow than today, how could it, and so on back into the far past, forward into the far future. [Pause.] And should one day the earth cover my breasts, then I shall never have seen my breasts, no one ever seen my breasts. [Pause.] I hope you caught something of that, Willie, I should be sorry to think you had caught nothing of all that, it is not every day I rise to such heights. [Pause.] Yes, something seems to have occurred, something
has seemed to occur, and nothing has occurred, nothing at all, you are quite right, Willie. [Pause.] The sunshade will be there again tomorrow, beside me on this mound, to help me through the day. [Pause. She takes up mirror.] I take up this little glass, I shiver it on a stone—[does so]—I throw it away—[does so far behind her]—it will be in the bag again tomorrow, without a scratch, to help me through the day. [Pause.] No, one can do nothing. [Pause.] That is what I find so wonderful, the way things . . . [voice breaks, head down] . . . things . . . so wonderful. [Long pause, head down. Finally turns, still bowed, to bag, brings out unidentifiable odds and ends, stuff s them back, fumbles deeper, brings out finally musical-box, winds it up, turns it on, listens for a moment holding it in both hands, huddled over it, turns back front, straightens up and listens to tune, holding box to breast with both hands. It plays the Waltz Duet “I love you so” from The Merry Widow. Gradually happy expression. She sways to the rhythm. Music stops. Pause. Brief burst of hoarse song without words—musical-box tune—from Willie. Increase of happy expression. She lays down box.] Oh this will have been a happy day! [She claps hands.] Again, Willie, again! [Claps.] Encore, Willie, please! [Pause. Happy expression off.] No? You won’t do that for me? [Pause.] Well it is very understandable, very understandable. One cannot sing just to please someone, however much one loves them, no, song must come from the heart, that is what I always say, pour out from the inmost, like a thrush. [Pause.] How often I have said, in evil hours, Sing now, Winnie, sing your song, there is nothing else for it, and did not. [Pause.] Could not. [Pause.] No, like the thrush, or the bird of dawning, with no thought of benefit, to oneself or anyone else. [Pause.] And now? [Long pause. Low.] Strange feeling. [Pause. Do.] Strange feeling that someone is looking at me. I am clear, then dim, then gone, then dim again, then clear again, and so on, back and forth, in and out of someone’s eye. [Pause. Do.] Strange? [Pause. Do.] No, here all is strange. [Pause. Normal voice.] Something says, Stop talking now, Winnie, for a minute, don’t squander all your words for the day, stop talking and do something for a change, will you? [She raises hands and holds them open before her eyes. Apostrophic.] Do something! [She closes hands.] What claws! [She turns to bag, rummages in it, brings out finally a nailfile, turns back front and begins to file nails. Files for a time in silence, then the following punctuated by filing.] There floats up—into my thoughts—a Mr. Shower—a Mr. and perhaps a Mrs. Shower—no—they are holding hands—his fiancée then more likely—or just some—loved one. [Looks closer at nails.] Very brittle today. [Resumes filing.] Shower—Shower—does the name mean anything—to you, Willie—evoke any reality, I mean—for you, Willie—don’t answer if you don’t—feel up to it—you have done more—than your bit—already—Shower—Shower. [Inspects filed nails.] Bit more like it. [Raises head, gazes front.] Keep yourself nice, Winnie, that’s what I always say, come what may, keep yourself nice. [Pause. Resumes filing.] Yes—Shower—Shower—[stops filing, raises head, gazes front, pause]—or Cooker, perhaps I should say Cooker. [Turning a little towards Willie.] Cooker, Willie, does Cooker strike a chord? [Pause. Turns a little further. Louder.] Cooker, Willie, does Cooker ring a bell, the name Cooker? [Pause. She cranes back to look at him. Pause.] Oh really! [Pause.] Have you no handkerchief, darling? [Pause.] Have you no delicacy? [Pause.] Oh, Willie, you’re not eating it! Spit it out, dear, spit it out! [Pause. Back front.] Ah well, I suppose it’s only natural. [Break in voice.] Human. [Pause. Do.] What is one to do? [Head down. Do.] All day long. [Pause. Do.] Day after day. [Pause. Head up. Smile. Calm.] The old style! [Smile off. Resumes nails.] No, done him. [Passes on to next.] Should have put on my glasses. [Pause.] Too late now. [Finishes left hand, inspects it.] Bit more human. [Starts right hand. Following punctuated as before.] Well anyway—this man Shower—or Cooker—no matter—and the woman—hand in hand—in the other hands bags—kind of big brown grips—standing there gaping at me—and at last this man Shower—or Cooker—ends in er anyway—stake my life on that—What’s she doing? he says—What’s the idea? he says—stuck up to her diddies in the bleeding ground—coarse fellow—What does it mean? he says—What’s it meant to mean?—and so on—lot more stuff like that—usual drivel—Do you hear me? he says—I do, she says, God help me—What do you mean, he says, God help you? [Stops filing, raises head, gazes front.] And you, she says, what’s the idea of you, she says, what are you meant to mean? It is because you’re still on your two flat feet, with your old ditty full of tinned muck and changes of underwear, dragging me up and down this fornicating wilderness, coarse creature, fit mate—[with sudden violence]—let go of my hand and drop for God’s sake, she says, drop! [Pause. Resumes filing.] Why doesn’t he dig her out? he says—referring to you, my dear—What good is she to him like that?—What good is he to her like that?—and so on—usual tosh—Good! she says, have a heart for God’s sake—Dig her out, he says, dig her out, no sense in her like that—Dig her out with what? she says—I’d dig her out with my bare hands, he says—must have been man and—wife. [Files in silence.] Next thing they’re away—hand in hand—and the bags—dim—then gone—last human kind—to stray this way. [Finishes right hand, inspects it, lays down file, gazes front.] Strange thing, time like this, drift up into the mind. [Pause.] Strange? [Pause.] No, here all is strange. [Pause.] Thankful for it in any case. [Voice breaks.] Most thankful. [Head down. Pause. Head up. Calm.] Bow and raise the head, bow and raise, always that. [Pause.] And now? [Long pause. Starts putting things back in bag, toothbrush last. This operation, interrupted by pauses as indicated, punctuates following.] It is perhaps a little soon—to make ready—for the night—[stops tidying, head up, smile]—the old style!—[smile off, resumes tidying]—and yet I do—make ready for the night—feeling it at hand—the bell for sleep—saying to myself—Winnie—it will not be long now, Winnie—until the bell for sleep. [Stops tidying, head up.] Sometimes I am wrong. [Smile.] But not often. [Smile off.] Sometimes all is over, for the day, all done, all said, all ready for the night, and the day not over, far from over, the night not ready, far, far from ready. [Smile.] But not often. [Smile off.] Yes, the bell for sleep, when I feel it at hand, and so make ready for the night—[gesture]—in this way, sometimes I am wrong—[smile]—but not often. [Smile off. Resumes tidying.] I used to think—I say I used to think—that all these things—put back into the bag—if too soon—put back too soon—could be taken out again—if necessary—if needed—and so on—indefinitely—back into the bag—back out of the bag—until the bell—went. [Stops tidying, head up, smile.] But no. [Smile broader.] No no. [Smile off. Resumes tidying.] I suppose this—might seem strange—this—what shall I say—this what I have said—yes—[she takes up revolver]—strange—[she turns to put revolver in bag]—were it not—[about to put revolver in bag she arrests gesture and turns back front]—were it not—[she lays down revolver to her right, stops tidying, head up]—that all seems strange. [Pause.] Most strange. [Pause.] Never any change. [Pause.] And more and more strange. [Pause. She bends to mound again, takes up last object, i.e. toothbrush, and turns to put it in bag when her attention is drawn to disturbance from Willie. She cranes back and to her right to see. Pause.] Weary of your hole, dear? [Pause.] Well I can understand that. [Pause.] Don’t forget your straw. [Pause.] Not the crawler you were, poor darling. [Pause.] No, not the crawler I gave my heart to. [Pause.] The hands and knees, love, try the hands and knees. [Pause.] The knees! The knees! [Pause.] What a curse, mobility! [She follows with eyes his progress towards her behind mound, i.e. towards place he occupied at beginning of act.] Another foot, Willie, and you’re home. [Pause as she observes last foot.] Ah! [Turns back front laboriously, rubs neck.] Crick in my neck admiring you. [Rubs neck.] But it’s worth it, well worth it. [Turning slightly towards him.] Do you know what I dream sometimes? [Pause.] What I dream sometimes, Willie. [Pause.] That you’ll come round and live this side where I could see you. [Pause. Back front.] I’d be a different woman. [Pause.] Unrecognizable. [Turning slightly towards him.] Or just now and then,
come round this side just every now and then and let me feast on you. [Back front.] But you can’t, I know. [Head down.] I know. [Pause. Head up.] Well anyway—[looks at tooth brush in her hand]—can’t be long now [looks at brush]—until the bell. [Top back of Willie’s head appears above slope. Winnie looks closer at brush.] Fully guaranteed . . . [head up] . . . what’s this it was? [Willie’s hand appears with handkerchief, spreads it on skull, disappears.] Genuine pure . . . fully guaranteed . . . [Willie’s hand appears with boater, settles it on head, rakish angle, disappears] . . . genuine pure . . . ah! hog’s setae. [Pause.] What is a hog exactly? [Pause. Turns slightly towards Willie.] What exactly is a hog, Willie, do you know, I can’t remember. [Pause. Turning a little further, pleading.] What is a hog, Willie, please! [Pause.]
Happy Days Page 2