Works of W. W. Jacobs

by Jacobs, W. W.

  Have you found it?

  DICK. NO. That must be very funny — that book you are reading.

  KATE (primly). Funny! It’s a hymn-book.

  DICK (starting). What were you laughing at, then?

  KATE. Thoughts.

  (DICK turns away and in a dogged fashion continues his search, glancing at her occasionally as he does so. KATE continues to read.)

  DICK. HOW nice your geraniums are.

  KATE. Yes, they’re all right.

  DICK. I can’t think how you keep ’em so nice.

  KATE. Well, don’t try. Haven’t you found it yet?

  DICK. NO.

  KATE. Tt, tt! Have you looked up the chimney?

  DICK (shouting). No.

  KATE. Don’t shout at me, please; I am only trying to help you. It is just as likely to be there as anywhere else — isn’t it?

  DICK (coughing). I never heard of a man putting his tobacco-pouch up the chimney.

  KATE. Well, don’t let me interrupt you; there are plenty of places you haven’t looked in yet.

  DICK. All in good time. (He pauses.) I’m in no hurry. Are you fond of hymns?

  KATE. NO, I like girls best.

  DICK (after a moment’s bewilderment). I mean hymns to sing.

  KATE. Oh, that sort! No.

  DICK (humbly). Of course, I never thought of you liking the other sort. You are much too stand-offish.

  KATE (still reading). Some are better than others. I have seen one or two that were not so bad. I saw some when I was staying in London last year. Very different to the men you see about here.

  DICK (sulkily). How different?

  KATE (emphatically). In every way. There was one in particular. I should think he passed the house I was stopping at fifty times one morning.

  DICK. HOW do you know?

  KATE (dreamily). I was sitting in the window — reading. I don’t think I ever saw a man with such fine eyes. And the way he took his hat off!...

  (DICK relieves his feelings by banging things about in a renewed search for the pouch.)

  DICK. I never heard anybody say anything good about Londoners.

  KATE. Jealousy, I expect.

  (DICK laughs, sardonically.)

  (Haughtily.) Are you laughing at me?

  DICK. NO, of course not.

  KATE. What were you laughing at, then?

  DICK. Thoughts.

  KATE (kindly). You shouldn’t think.

  DICK. Why not?

  KATE (softly). Well — perhaps there are other jobs you can do better. (Graciously.) I thought the way you were tarring your boat yesterday was quite good. You put it on so evenly.

  DICK. I dare say one of your Londoners could do it better.

  KATE. Oh, yes, of course; but look at the advantages they’ve had. Have you found that pouch yet?

  DICK. No.

  KATE. Well, I’ll go down Back Lane and look for it. Father was there this morning.

  (She goes out by the back door. DICK stands morosely staring at the door, with his hands in his pockets. He turns to the front door just as BOOM and RAGGETT enter.)

  BOOM (with a wink). Where’s Kate?

  DICK. Gone down Back Lane — to look for the pouch. BOOM (chuckling). Ah! There’s nothing like a little artfulness in these things, Dick.

  (Dick staring offensively at Raggett). It don’t lead to much.

  BOOM. Don’t you be in a hurry, my lad. I’ve been thinking over this little affair for some time now, and I’ve got a plan —

  DICK (rudely). If it’s anything to do with baccy-pouches —

  BOOM. It ain’t; it’s quite different. Now, you’d best get aboard your craft and do your duty. There’s more young men won gals’ ‘arts while doing of then duty than — than if they wasn’t doing of their duty, if you understand me.

  RAGGETT (unctuously). Dooty first; hard work and dooty.

  DICK. Who asked you to shove your oar in? Suppose you mind your business.

  BOOM (severely). It is his business; he is going to help you.

  (KATE comes in from the hack lane unperceived, and then slips behind the door, which she leaves open. Her head occasionally emerges, and she displays great interest in the scene that follows.)

  DICK. Help me? Him?

  BOOM. He’s going to propose to her. Day after day, week after week, month after month, year after —

  RAGGETT (sourly). Not so much of it.

  BOOM. Until she gets sick of it and is ready to take anybody.

  DICK. Propose! Propose! Why, he must be mad. Look at him!

  BOOM. That’s all right. That’s why I picked him out special.

  RAGGETT (angrily). Look here, I won’t have nothing to do with it.

  BOOM (beaming at RAGGETT). And because he has got brains.

  DICK. That’s bad.

  BOOM. Bad? Why?

  DICK. In case she hits him over the head with the poker.

  RAGGETT (hastily, turning to BOOM). Look here, I won’t have nothing —

  BOOM (interrupting). She won’t hit an old man like you.

  DICK. And if she does you ought to be flattered. RAGGETT. It ‘ud take more than that to flatter me. BOOM. Stuff and nonsense! Come on, Dick, you and me’ll hop across the road while he’s doing it. Then we’ll come back and see what’s happened.

  DICK (turning to RAGGETT). If we hear you calling out “Help!” or “Murder!” we can run over to you. (Admiringly.) You must have got a nerve!

  RAGGETT. I’m not going to do it. I don’t know how to.

  BOOM. Nonsense. It’s as easy as easy. I’ll show you how. (He ponders.) Look here. I’ve got an idea. How would it be for you to have a bit of practice like? RAGGETT. Prac — tice!

  BOOM. Yes; then we could see how you are going to do it, and give you a bit of advice if you do it wrong.

  (RAGGETT stares at him.)

  (Again pondering.) Young Dick can sit there, pretending to be Kate, and you come in at the door and make love to him.

  DICK. Not if I know it.

  BOOM (with great dignity). All right. I wash my hands of you then. Me and my old pal, Raggett, are doing our best to help you, and this is all the thanks we get for it.

  RAGGETT. I’m not going to play the fool.

  BOOM. I’m not asking you to play the fool. I’m just asking you to be obliging. (He goes to the mantelpiece and returns with a lead box.) And there’s that old lead baccy-box you’ve always wanted. I make you a present of it.

  (He crams it into RAGGETT’S pocket. RAGGETT protests feebly.)

  Dick, you go and sit there.

  (He points to the easy-chair. DICK takes it.)

  Now, Raggett, come outside and then go in as if you was just passing.

  (He puts his arm round RAGGETT’S waist and takes him out. DICK grins, pauses, takes the coloured tablecloth off the table and dons it shawl-wise; he then takes the shade from the lamp and puts it on his head and, sitting down, sticks one foot on the mantelpiece. KATE watches these proceedings with much interest. RAGGETT returns, followed by BOOM. They both start as they see DICK.)

  (Sourly.) Are you pretending to be my daughter? DICK (in falsetto voice). Yes, Father.

  BOOM. Take your foot off the mantelpiece then. Now, Raggett, go ahead.

  RAGGETT (in a surly voice). Good morning.

  BOOM. NO, no, no; you don’t want to talk as if you’re going to bite her head off. Be gentle like.

  RAGGETT (approaching chair). Good morning, Miss Boom.

  DICK (falsetto voice). Good morning, Fish-face.

  (RAGGETT starts back and BOOM raises his hands in despair.)

  BOOM. NO. No. It’s no good being rude to him till he has asked you to marry him. Come out and begin over again, Raggett.

  (He leads RAGGETT off and they re-enter.)

  RAGGETT. Good morning, Miss Boom.

  DICK (falsetto). Good morning, Mr. Raggett. How well you are looking this morning.

  BOOM. That’s better.

  RAGGETT. I was — er — just speak
ing to your father about you.

  DICK (affectedly). O — oh! In — deed. And what did the old Turnip say?

  BOOM. That’ll do. That’ll do. Any more of this, young Dick, and out you go.

  DICK (in his natural voice). But I was pretending to be Miss Boom. It isn’t me talking; it’s her.

  BOOM (with dignity). You don’t know how young gals talk; not gals that has been brought up proper, that is. My daughter would never dream —

  BAGGETT. I heard ‘er ask you the other day whether you was born stoopid or whether you took lessons. Toosday morning it was.

  BOOM (disagreeably). Who asked you to shove your oar in?

  RAGGETT. All right, all right; I’ll go.

  (He moves towards the door. BOOM catches him by the sleeve.)

  BOOM (desperately). Go on; say what you like. Both of you.

  RAGGETT. I forget where I was, now.

  BOOM (prompting). “I was just speaking to your father about you.” And Dick says: “Oh, indeed.” RAGGETT (turning to DICK). Yes, we ‘ad quite a long talk about you.

  DICK (falsetto). And what did the —— — (Glances at BOOM.) What did dear Father say?

  RAGGETT. He seemed to think, seemed to think —

  DICK (falsetto, raising his eyes). No. No!

  (BOOM controls himself by an obvious effort.)

  RAGGETT. He ‘ad a sort of idea —— —

  DICK (falsetto). Yes.

  RAGGETT. That we — that you and me ——

  DICK (falsetto). Yes.

  RAGGETT. Might — er — might fix it up.

  DICK (puzzled). Fix it up?

  RAGGETT (doggedly). Get spliced like.

  (DICK rises and regards him with distended eyes, and then with a faint moan drops back into the chair. He begins to laugh, gradually turning into a fit of weeping, and drums his heels on the ground. BOOM and RAGGETT regard him with amazed disfavour.)

  Has he gone dotty?

  BOOM. High-stirricks, that’s what it is.

  (He looks around, seizes the jug from the table and throws water in DICK’S face. DICK springs up, spluttering and indignant, wiping his face.)

  DICK. What did you do that for?

  BOOM. That’s the proper thing to do for high-stirricks. DICK (injured voice). But I was only pretending to have them.

  BOOM. Yes, and I was pretending you’d got them.

  (RAGGETT, highly amused, exchanges winks with BOOM.)

  And now you’ve had your fun you’d better get off home and change your shirt. Next time you play the fool, you’ll have it out of a bucket.

  (DICK goes out, grumbling and mopping himself.)

  You were wonderful, Raggett. You’re a born actor, that’s what you are. Now, you stay here, and when Kate comes in — she’s always gallivanting about somewhere — just say to her what you said to Dick.

  (KATE’S head disappears and the door up stage gently closes.)

  RAGGETT. Suppose she gets the high-stirricks! BOOM. She won’t.

  (A door bangs off, and KATE is heard singing.)

  There she is — I’m off. Now don’t forget your bit.

  (He goes off quickly. RAGGETT moves as though to follow him and then turns back and stands awkwardly waiting. KATE comes in.)

  KATE (cheerfully). Morning, Mr. Raggett.

  RAGGETT. Morning.

  KATE. I expect Father will be in soon, if you want to see him. Don’t you find the hill rather trying? RAGGETT (shortly). No.

  KATE. I should have thought you would. I think it is rather wonderful, the idea of an old man like you not minding it.

  RAGGETT (viciously). I’m sixty-seven, and I feel as young as ever I did. —

  KATE. TO be sure. (Pause.) And look as young as ever you did. —

  RAGGETT (slowly). I am just sixty-seven — I’m not old and I’m not young, (significantly) but I’m just old enough to want somebody to look after me a bit.

  KATE. I shouldn’t while I could get about, if I were you. Why not wait until you are bedridden?

  RAGGETT (snappishly). I don’t mean that at all. When I say that I want somebody to look after me, I mean that I’m thinking of getting married.

  KATE (open-mouthed). Good — gracious!

  RAGGETT (acidly). I may have one foot in the grave, and resemble a dried herring in the face, but —

  KATE (gently). You can’t help that; it’s not your fault.

  RAGGETT (loudly). But I’m going to get married.

  KATE. Well, don’t get in a way about it. Of course, if you want to, and — and — you can find somebody else who wants to, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t. Is there?

  RAGGETT. There’s plenty as would jump at me.

  KATE. Yes, except the poor old things with rheumatics.

  RAGGETT. Rheumatics? I’m not going to marry an old woman.

  KATE. Oh!

  RAGGETT. I was speaking to your father about it and — and — he has given his consent.

  KATE (bewildered). His consent?

  RAGGETT. Yes. He — he thinks we should make a very nice pair.

  KATE. Pair! Pair! (She clasps her hands and gazes with a rapt expression at the ceiling.) Oh, Mr. Raggett! Is this a proposal?

  RAGGETT (startled). Ye — es.

  KATE (in awed ecstasy). How wonderful! Oh, what a fortunate girl I am! Oh, Mr. Raggett, to think of a poor girl like me having such luck!

  (RAGGETT, dumb with consternation, totters to the fireplace and steadies himself with his arm on the mantelpiece.)

  RAGGETT. I — I — perhaps you —

  KATE (disregarding him). What luck. You’re not much to look at; still, I never troubled much about looks, and a girl can’t have everything. You’ve got the loveliest old chest of drawers and the best furniture all round in Mastleigh. And I suppose you have got a little money?

  RAGGETT (in a broken voice). Very little.

  KATE. I don’t want any fuss or anything of that kind. No bridesmaids or anything of that sort. It wouldn’t be suitable at your age.

  (RAGGETT, a picture of misery, stares at her.)

  (Musingly.) Just a few old friends and a bit of cake. And instead of spending a lot of money in foolish waste, we’ll have three weeks in London.

  RAGGETT (in a shaky voice). P’r’aps — p’r’aps you’d better take a little longer to consider, my dear.

  KATE. NO, I’ve quite made up my mind. Quite. And now I want to marry you just as much as you want to marry me. I’ve always thought how nice it must be to marry an old man.

  RAGGETT. ‘Tain’t usual.

  KATE. They’re so easy to manage. Even if they wanted to flirt, there’s nobody that would flirt with them. And an old man is so easily satisfied. They’ve seen the world and they don’t expect much. A young man might want to have his own way, and I couldn’t stand that.

  RAGGETT (grimly). Middle-aged men want their own way, too, sometimes.

  KATE (lightly). Ah, but they don’t get it! And then, when they go —

  RAGGETT (starting). Go? Go where?

  KATE (simpering). Depends on the life they have led, I suppose.

  (RAGGETT gazes at her in horror.)

  Of course, a lot of people say don’t marry an old man because you’ll be a widow so soon But I don’t mind being a widow. I would much rather be a widow than my husband should be a widower. Much!

  BAGGETT (glowering at her). My father lived to ninety-four.

  KATE (cheerfully). That’s very unusual.

  BAGGETT. My grandmother was ninety-six, and then she only died by accident. My Aunt Jane had whooping-cough when she was seventy-nine.

  KATE. It’s nothing to boast about.

  BAGGETT. I wasn’t boasting. My opinion is I’m going to live to a hundred. Always has been.

  KATE. Well, I must chance it, I suppose.

  (Voices are heard outside. DICK and BOOM return.)

  Oh, here’s Father! Shall I tell him or will you?

  BOOM (staring). Tell what?

  KATE (clapping her hands an
d looking at BAGGETT). Go on; tell him. I am too shy.

  BAGGETT (in a broken voice). She — shes got me.

  (BOOM and DICK both start.)

  BOOM. What? —

  BAGGETT. She’s got me. (He totters into a chair.) KATE (simpering). He nearly fainted with joy when I said “Yes.” He could hardly believe his ears.

  (The men eye each other dumbly. KATE stands with her hands clasped, looking modestly down.)

  BOOM. DO you mean to say that you are going to marry him?

  KATE (demurely). Yes, Father.

  (DICK gives a short, hard laugh. KATE eyes him scornfully.)

  BOOM (still gaping). What for?

  KATE (softly). Love, I suppose. George —

  (BAGGETT starts violently.)

  — and I have found that we can’t live without one another. It was so nice of him to go to you first and get your consent. Quite the proper thing to do, wasn’t it?

  (BOOM choices, and gazes around helplessly.)

  DICK (sardonically). I hope the young couple will be happy, Mr. Boom.

  BOOM. Shut up!

  KATE. Thank you, Mr. Tarrell. (She moves towards the front door.)

  BOOM. Where are you going?

  KATE. TO tell Milly the good news. O — oh! Won’t she be jealous!

  (She goes out. The men all turn and gaze after her. A pause.)

  BOOM (huskily). Raggett!

  RAGGETT. Don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to me. I can’t bear it. For two pins I’d chuck myself into the harbour.

  DICK. I’ll pitch you in, if you like. It would be a pleasure.

  RAGGETT (glaring at him and then turning to BOOM). My ‘ead’s in a whirl. It’s going round and round.

  BOOM. It ud be a wonder if it wasn’t.

  RAGGETT (meditatively). To think ‘ow I’ve been let in for this! The plots and the plans an’ the artfulness what’s been going on all round me, an’ I’ve never seen it.

  BOOM (violently). What d’you mean?

  RAGGETT. I know what I mean.

  BOOM. P’r’aps you’ll tell me then. Come on. Out with it.

  RAGGETT (fiercely). Who thought of it first? Whose idea was it? Who came to me and asked me to court his slip of a gal?

  BOOM. Don’t you be an old fool; not if you can help it. It’s done now, and what’s done can’t be undone. I never thought to have a son-in-law seven or eight years older than what I am — and, what’s more, I don’t want it.

  RAGGETT (shaking his head). Said I wasn’t much to look at, but she liked my chest o’ drawers.