Works of W. W. Jacobs

by Jacobs, W. W.

  DICK. Well, it’s much better looking than you are. BOOM. Shut — up!

  RAGGETT. Said she s’posed I’d got some money. BOOM. Don’t ask me where she gets her natur’ from, ‘cos I couldn’t tell you. (Unctuously.) She don’t get it from me.

  (RAGGETT rises and, placing his cap on his head, totters slowly towards the front door.)

  Where are you going?

  RAGGETT. ‘Ome. I wish I ‘ad never left it. This is what comes of doing a kind action. I done all this for you, Dick, and look what’s happened. It’s evident she only wants my furniture. Now, if I give you all the best of it, p’r’aps she’ll take you instead.

  DICK (grimly). No, she won’t. I wouldn’t have her now, not if she asked me on her bended knees.

  RAGGETT. Why not?

  DICK. I don’t want to marry that sort o’ girl. It’s cured me.

  RAGGETT. What about me then?

  DICK. Well, so far as I can see, it serves you right for mixing yourself up in other people’s business.

  BOOM (solemnly). You ought to think of others, Dick. Think of poor old Raggett. He’ll be the laughingstock of the place!

  RAGGETT (snarling). And you’ll be my father-in-law.

  DICK. He’ll be all right. He wants somebody to help him spend his money.

  (KATE returns.)

  (Patronizingly.) Have you been spreading the good news?

  KATE. I couldn’t find her; and, besides, I think George ought to tell people. It looks better. Don’t be too boastful, darling.

  (RAGGETT opens his mouth two or three times, as though about to speak, and then, with a frantic gesture, rushes out.)

  Go after him, Father. His joy has turned his head.

  (BOOM looks at her in amazement and, with a bewildered shake of the head, follows RAGGETT.)

  (As DICK also prepares to follow.) Where are you going? DICK. Home.

  KATE. Aren’t you going to congratulate me?

  DICK (soberly). Yes; I hope you’ll be happy.

  (KATE takes some material from a drawer and, sitting down, begins to sew.)

  KATE. DO you think I shall be happy?

  DICK. It depends on what you are marrying for. Is that the — wedding-dress?

  KATE (laughing). No, tablecloth. You’ll want to know a little more before you get married.

  DICK. Plenty of time for me. I’m in no hurry. KATE. That’s right. I suppose you were rather surprised to hear that I am going to be?

  DICK. A little bit. There’s been so many after old Raggett I didn’t think he’d ever be caught.

  KATE. Oh!

  DICK (patronizingly). I dare say he will make a very good husband. In fact, I think you’ll make a nice couple. He’s got a good home.

  KATE. That’s why I accepted him — I told him so. Do you think it’s wrong to marry a man for that?

  DICK (loftily). That’s your business. Speaking for myself, and not wishing to hurt anybody’s feelings, I shouldn’t like to marry a girl like that.

  (KATE rises and, walking towards him, puts her face rather close to his.)

  KATE (softly). You mean you wouldn’t like to marry me?

  DICK (doggedly). That’s — what I do mean.

  (KATE puts her face a little closer.)

  KATE (smiling). Not even if I asked you.

  DICK. NO.

  KATE. That’s all right, then. Aren’t you glad you’re cured?

  DICK (stepping back a little and almost shouting). Yes! KATE. SO am I. Are you happy?

  DICK. Yes.

  KATE. Well, now just go over to the “Jolly Sailors” and make poor old Raggett happy, too. (She sits down.)

  DICK (staring). Eh? How?

  KATE (with a steady smile). Tell him that I have only been having a joke with him. Tell him that I heard their silly little plan and I made up my mind to give them both a lesson. And tell them that I didn’t think anybody could have been so stupid as to believe I should marry Raggett. Raggett indeed!

  DICK (very slowly). I suppose my being stupid was no surprise to you.

  KATE (smiling). Not a bit.

  DICK. I’ll have to ask you to tell Raggett yourself. I shan’t see him. Good day.

  KATE (starting up). Where are you going?

  DICK (moving to the door).) I don’t know. Somewhere where people won’t know I’m a fool.

  KATE. A long way off, then?

  DICK. Yes.

  (He moves slowly and goes out.)

  KATE (softly). Dick.

  (DICK comes into the room again and stands eyeing her.)

  (Softly.) Wouldn’t you like me to come with you?

  (She smiles at him and, as he comes forward, laughs and puts her head on his shoulder. He puts his arm round her just as BOOM comes in.)

  BOOM (in stentorian tones and turning to the door). RAG — GETT!

  CURTAIN.

  A DISTANT RELATIVE

  A COMEDY IN ONE ACT

  SCENE. — MR. BOOM’S Living-room.

  This is a living-room as might be expected in a man of MR. SPRIGGS’S calling. There is an old-fashioned window in the centre of the back wall; a door right of this opens on to the street. Another door in the left wall, up stage, leads to the kitchen. Below this door is the fireplace, in front of which are two easy-chairs. There is a small table in the window, with plants; a larger table in the centre of the room. Small chairs and one or two old-fashioned pieces of furniture about the room, some oleographs, vases on the mantelpiece, all go to identify the room with its owner.

  It is evening.The stage is occupied by MR. and MRS. SPRIGGS. MR. SPRIGGS is standing up; MRS. SPRIGGS is sitting by the fire, sewing.

  MR. SPRIGGS (glaring at the kitchen door). How much longer are they going to be? They seem very fond of the kitchen.

  MRS. SPRIGGS. It’s only natural, George. Don’t you remember when ——

  MR. SPRIGGS (fumbling at his collar). No, I don’t. All I know is that your poor father never ‘ad to put on a collar for me; and, mind you, I won’t wear one after they are married, not if you all went on your bended knees and asked me to. (He takes the other easy-chair.)

  (The kitchen door opens and ETHEL and MR. POTTER enter and cross to the street door. ETHEL opens the door and stands holding it. MR. SPRIGGS shivers and then coughs.)

  MR. POTTER. Your fatter has got a cold.

  ETHEL. Not him; it’s too much smoking. He’s smoking all day long.

  MR. SPRIGGS (coughing again). It’s a cold.

  (ETHEL ignores him. She and MR. POTTER are whispering and scuffling. She pushes him out and he pushes in again. The door is enacting the part of a ventilating-fan. MR. SPRIGGS rises.)

  MRS. SPRIGGS (hastily). It’s only another fortnight, Father.

  MR. SPRIGGS (resuming his seat and speaking vindictively). After they’re spliced I’ll go round and I’ll play about with their front door —

  (ETHEL pushes MR. POTTER out and closes the door on him with a violent bang. MR. SPRIGGS rises again.)

  ETHEL (coming to him). What’s the matter? What are you looking like that for?

  MR. SPRIGGS (feebly). Too much draught — for your mother. I’m afraid of her asthma again.

  ETHEL. YOU are thoughtful! Ta-ta! We shall be back soon. Mind you don’t sit in a draught. And what about an antimacassar for your poor old shoulders?

  (She snatches one from a chair, throws it over him, gives him a pat on the head, and then runs to join MR. POTTER, who has opened the door again. They both exit.)

  MR. SPRIGGS (feeling his head, proudly). Anybody who can’t be ‘appy with her — don’t deserve to be ‘appy.

  MRS. SPRIGGS (nervously). I wish it was over. She’ll break her heart if anything happens to prevent it and Gussie —

  MR. SPRIGGS. A gal can’t ‘elp what her uncle does. If Alfred throws her over for that, he’s no man.

  MRS. SPRIGGS (shaking her head). Pride is his great fault.

  MR. SPRIGGS. It’s no good taking up troubles afore they come; and if you do ‘ave to take ’em up
, chuck ’em down at once — see?

  MRS. SPRIGGS. Yes, you try chucking Gussie down, and see what happens. I used to try it when we was children together; but if I had a ha’penny, Gussie always got it. And always did it as though he was doing me a favour. That’s Gussie.

  MR. SPRIGGS (in a doleful voice). Cheer up, old gal. It was lucky you and Ethel wasn’t here when he came.

  MRS. SPRIGGS. But he’ll come again.

  MR. SPRIGGS. Yes, but he’ll come diff’rent. (In a raspy voice.) This arternoon he touched me for a tailcoat and fancy trousers, and a top-’at. (He groans.) He made a favour of it; said he must do us credit.

  MRS. SPRIGGS (nodding). That’s Gussie. That’s ‘im all over.

  MR. SPRIGGS. P’raps he won’t come. I believe he’ll be ashamed to show ‘is face here, when ‘e comes to think of it; but if he does, don’t forget he ‘as come back from Australia. I told ‘im we ‘ad always told Ethel that ‘er uncle was in Australia. See? It’ll make it nicer for ‘im, too. You don’t suppose ‘e wants to boast of where he’s been!

  MRS. SPRIGGS. And suppose he comes while Alfred is here?

  MR. SPRIGGS. Then I ses: “How ‘ave you left ’em all in Australia?” and winks at ‘im.

  MRS. SPRIGGS. And suppose you aren’t ‘ere?

  MR. SPRIGGS. Then you say it and wink at ‘im. (Hastily). No, I know you can’t; you’ve been too well brought up. Still, you can try. Try now.

  (MRS. SPRIGGS contorts her face horribly, first one side and then the other.)

  MRS. SPRIGGS. I believe I did it then. It felt like it.

  MR. SPRIGGS. NO, don’t try it. Wot a pity they let Gussie out. If they give a man ten years, why do they let ‘im out afore he ‘as done it? Where’s the sense of it? Ticket-of-leave be jiggered! And if they do give a man a ticket, it ought to be pinned on to — on to his coat-tails.

  (Both turn and look at each other as a shuffling is heard outside the street door.)

  MRS. SPRIGGS (nervously putting her finger to her mouth). Gussie!

  MR. SPRIGGS. Don’t take up troubles afore they come. Ha! It has come.

  (MR. AUGUSTUS PRICE enters slowly and shuts the door with exaggerated care. He is dressed in a frock-coat too large for him, with a large flower in his buttonhole; fancy trousers, high stiff collar, a flaring necktie embellished with a scarfpin; shoes and white spats.)

  MR. PRICE (in a weak mournful voice). Emma! MRS. SPRIGGS. Gussie!

  MR. PRICE (giving her a stage embrace, patting her shoulder and passing his coat-sleeve across his eyes). Emma! (He totters into a chair.) I’ve come home to die. (He extends his hand to SPRIGGS.)

  MR. SPRIGGS (taking it reluctantly and, afterwards, wiping his hand on the seat of his trousers). What are you going to die of?

  MR. PRICE. Broken ‘art, George.

  MRS. SPRIGGS (hopefully). Why, have you ‘ad an accident?

  MR. PRICE (reproachfully). No, I’ve had enough to bear, without accidents. My ‘art is broken for want of fair-play and justice.

  MR. SPRIGGS. Justice! Want o’ justice! Why, how much more do you want? You ‘ad ten years, didn’t you?

  (MR. PRICE groans.)

  MRS. SPRIGGS (shaking her head). George!

  MR. PRICE (closing his eyes). I shan’t last the night. But don’t take any trouble about me. I can die anywhere. The doorstep is good enough for me. (He assumes a pious, resigned expression.) It’s no colder than Christian charity. (He gets up and looks round with half-closed eyes.) Where is it? Where’s the doorstep?

  MR. SPRIGGS. I’m sorry we can’t ask you to stay with us, Gussie, ‘specially as you are so ill, but we haven’t got a room.

  MR. PRICE (moaning, and closing his eyes). I must die somewhere; I shan’t last the night. The doorstep’ll do.

  MR. SPRIGGS. You can’t die ‘ere, Gussie. Ethel is going to be married in a fortnight, and if you died ‘ere that would put it off.

  MR. PRICE (slowly opening his eyes). I might last longer if I was took care of.

  MRS. SPRIGGS. And, besides, Ethel don’t know where you’ve been — she’s going to marry a very particular young chap — in the grocery line — and, if he found it out, it might be awkward.

  (MR. PRICE groans.)

  MR. SPRIGGS. It took ‘im some time to get over me being a bricklayer.... What he’d say to you —

  MR. PRICE. Why can’t he be given to understand I’ve been in Australia? Same as you told Ethel. Tell ‘im anything you like — I don’t mind.

  MR. SPRIGGS (clearing his throat). But, you see, we told Ethel you was doing well out there, and, gal-like — and Alfred talking a lot about his relations — she, she’s made the most of it.

  MR. PRICE. It don’t matter. You say what you like. I shan’t interfere with you.

  MRS. SPRIGGS. But you don’t know anything about Australia; and Alfred’s very sharp.

  MR. PRICE (haughtily). I know all about it. Some of the library books they used to give us was about it. One time I almost made up my mind to go there. You wait till you hear me put it over to them.

  MR. SPRIGGS. And what are you going to do for a living, now you’re out?

  MR. PRICE. Anything that happens to come along, George.

  MR. SPRIGGS. ‘Ave you got any money?

  MR. PRICE (facetiously). I left it behind — in Australia.

  MR. SPRIGGS (sharply). Getting better, ain’t you? How’s that broken ‘art getting on?

  MR. PRICE. It’s going better under this nice waistcoat you gave me.

  MR. SPRIGGS (violently). You’re a low-down trickster, that’s what you are. A disgrace to your family. You never done any good and you never will do. You’re the black sheep of the family.

  MR. PRICE. Don’t get excited. You’re only wasting your breath. I’m trying to help you — that’s all. I don’t mind anybody knowing where I’ve been — I was innercent. If you will give way to sinful pride, you must pay for it.

  MR. SPRIGGS.’OW much do you want?

  MR. PRICE. Ah?

  MR. SPRIGGS. Will you go away if I give you a quid?

  MR. PRICE (smiling affably). Not much; I’ve got a better idea of the value of money than that. Besides, I want to see my dear niece, and see whether that young man’s good enough for her.

  MR. SPRIGGS. TWO quid?

  MR. PRICE (shaking his head). Sorry, George. I couldn’t do it. In justice to myself I couldn’t do it. You’ll be feeling lonely when you lose Ethel, and I might stay on and keep you company.

  (MR. and MRS. SPRIGGS exchange glances of consternation.

  MR. PRICE fills his pipe from a paper on the mantelpiece and winks at himself in the glass as he adjusts his tie.) A nice watch and chain and a little money in my pocket and I shall be the rich uncle from Australia to a T.

  MR. SPRIGGS (furiously). You won’t get any more out of me. I’ve spent every farthing I’ve got.

  MR. PRICE. Except what’s in the bank. It’ll take you a day or two to get at it, I know. S’pose we say Saturday for the watch and chain? At present my watch is being mended. See? The sea voyage upset it. See?

  (MR. SPRIGGS looks helplessly at his wife, who looks away.

  He gazes in a fascinated fashion at MR. PRICE, who nods cheerfully in return.)

  I’ll go with you and help choose it. It’ll save you trouble, if it don’t save your pocket. (He stands with his hack to the fire, thrusts his hands in his pockets, spreads his legs apart and blows smoke towards the ceiling.)

  (MR. POTTER and ETHEL return, by the street door. ETHEL stands eyeing MR. PRICE.)

  MRS. SPRIGGS. It’s — it’s your Uncle Gussie.

  MR. SPRIGGS (choking). From Australia. Just come over.

  ETHEL. O-oh!

  (MR. PRICE removes his pipe and, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, moves towards ETHEL and kisses her on the eyebrow.)

  MR. PRICE. Well, well, well! How this takes me back! I thought it was your mother again, as I knew her years ago. Before she married and before I went to Australia. Prettiest girl i
n the town, she was, then — and, mind, I’m not saying she ‘as altered much. ETHEL. Uncle!

  MR. PRICE. True, my dear.

  MR. SPRIGGS (turning to MR. POTTER and speaking gruffly). This is Mr. Alfred Potter. Him as is engaged to Ethel.

  MR. PRICE (shaking hands). Pleased to know you, sir. Pleased to know you. It’s a most extraordinary thing, but you are the living image of a young friend of mine, Jack Bates by name, who has just come in for forty thousand a year.

  (MR. and MRS. SPRIGGS start slightly and eye each other.)

  ETHEL (daringly). That’s nearly as much as you’re worth, Uncle, isn’t it?

  MR. PRICE (shaking his head and pondering). Rather more, my dear. Rather more.

  (There is an impressive silence. MR. SPRIGGS, who is stooping to get a light from the fire, nearly falls into it.)

  (Looking around and shaking his head.) Money isn’t everything; it won’t give you ‘appiness. It’s not much good, except to give away. (He gazes benevolently at MR. POTTER.)

  ETHEL. Fancy coming over without saying a word to anybody, and taking us all by surprise like this!

  MR. PRICE (simply). I felt I must see you all once more before I died. Just a flying visit I meant it to be — here to-day and gone to-morrow — but your father and mother won’t hear of my going back just yet. ETHEL. I should think not.

  MR. PRICE. When I talked of going, your father ‘eld me down in my chair.

  ETHEL. Quite right, too. Now, sit down, Uncle, and tell us all about Australia.

  (MR. PRICE seats himself. ETHEL and POTTER seat themselves, one each side of him. MR. and MRS. SPRIGGS sit a little apart.)

  MR. POTTER. It’s a big place, sir, Australia?

  MR. PRICE. E — normous. (He shakes his head.)

  MR. POTTER (wistfully). Opportunities?

  MR. PRICE (pursing his lips). To a smart young man, yes. But, mind you, he mustn’t be afraid of work. If I’d been afraid of work, I shouldn’t be where I am now.

  MR. SPRIGGS (forgetting himself). Or where you ‘ave been.

  MR. PRICE. Oh, South Africa!... No, I shouldn’t ‘ave been there, neither.

  (He turns and glares defiantly at MR. SPRIGGS. MRS. SPRIGGS rises anxiously and nudges her husband.)