Norah.
What did you do in England?
Trotter.
Bricklayer, Miss.
Gertie.
You needn’t call her miss. Norah’s her name. You call me Gertie, don’t you?
Trotter.
What with strikes an’ bad times you never knew where you was. And the foreman bullying you. I don’t know what all. I ‘ad about enough of it, I can tell you. I’ve never been out of work since the day I landed. I’ve had as much to eat as I wanted and I’m saving money. In this country everybody’s as good as everybody else.
Norah.
If not better.
Trotter.
In two years I shall be able to set up for myself. Why, there’s old man Thompson, up at Pratt, he started as a bricklayer, come from Yorkshire, he did. He’s got seven thousand dollars in the bank now.
Marsh.
You fellows who come out now have a much softer thing on than I did when I first came. In those days they wouldn’t have an Englishman, they’d have a Galician rather. In Winnipeg, when they advertised in the paper for labour, you’d see often as not no English need apply.
Gertie.
Well, it was their own fault. They wouldn’t work or anything. They just soaked.
Marsh.
It was their own fault right enough. This was the dumping ground for all the idlers, drunkards, and scallywags in England. They had the delusion over there that if a man was too big a rotter to do anything at all in England he’d only got to be sent out here and he’d make a fortune.
Taylor.
I guess things ain’t as bad as that now. They send us a different class. It takes an Englishman two years longer than anybody else to get the hang of things, but when once he tumbles to it he’s better than any of them.
Marsh.
I guess nowadays everyone’s glad to see the Englishman make good. When I nearly smashed up three years ago, I had no end of offers to help.
Hornby.
How did you smash up?
Marsh.
Oh, I had a run of bad luck. One year my crop was frosted and then next year I was hailed out. It wants a good deal of capital to stand up against that.
Taylor.
That’s what happened to me. I was hailed out, and I hadn’t got capital, so I just had to hire out. [To Norah.] If it hadn’t been for that hailstorm you wouldn’t have had the pleasure of making my acquaintance.
Norah.
[Ironically.] How hollow and empty life would have been without that.
Gertie.
I wonder you didn’t just quit and start out Calgary way.
Taylor.
Well, I’d put in two years on my homestead and done a lot of clearing. It seemed kind of silly to lose my rights now. And when you’ve been hailed out once the chances are it won’t happen again, for some years that is, and by that time I ought to have put a bit by.
Norah.
What sort of a house have you got?
Taylor.
Well, it ain’t what you might call a palace, but it’s large enough for two.
Marsh.
Thinking of marrying?
Taylor.
Well, I guess it’s kind of lonesome on a farm without a woman. But it’s not so easy to find a wife when you’re just starting on your own. Canadian girls think twice before taking a farmer.
Gertie.
They know something, I guess.
Marsh.
Well, you took one, Gertie.
Gertie.
Not because I wanted to, you can be sure of that. I don’t know how you got round me.
Marsh.
I wonder.
Gertie.
I guess it was because you was kind of helpless, and I didn’t know what you’d do without me.
Marsh.
I guess it was love and you couldn’t help yourself.
Taylor.
I’m thinking of going to one of them employment agencies when I get to Winnipeg and looking the girls over.
Norah.
Like sheep.
Taylor.
I don’t know anythin’ about sheep. I’ve never had to do with sheep.
Norah.
And d’you think you know anything about women?
Taylor.
I guess I can tell if they’re strong and willing. And so long as they ain’t cock-eyed I don’t mind taking the rest on trust.
Norah.
And what inducement is there for a girl to have you?
Trotter.
That’s why he wants to catch ’em young, when they’ve just landed and don’t know much.
Taylor.
I’ve got my quarter section — a hundred and sixty acres, with seventy of it cleared — and I’ve got a shack that I built myself. That’s something, ain’t it?
Norah.
You’ve got a home to offer and enough to eat and drink. A girl can get that anywhere. Why, they’re simply begging for service.
Taylor.
Some girls like getting married. There’s something in the word that appeals to them.
Norah.
You seem to think a girl would jump at the chance of marrying you.
Taylor.
She might do worse.
Norah.
I think you flatter yourself.
Taylor.
I know my job and there ain’t too many as can say that. I’ve got brains.
Norah.
What makes you think so?
Taylor.
Well, I can see you’re no fool.
Gertie.
[With a chuckle.] He put one over on you then, Norah.
Taylor.
[Good-humouredly.] Because you’ve got no use for me, there’s no saying but what others may have.
[Gertie takes the basin out in order to pour away the water. Norah goes on drying the crockery.]
Norah.
Of course, there’s no accounting for tastes.
Taylor.
I can try, can’t I?
Norah.
It’s very wise of you to go to an agency. A girl’s more likely to marry you when she’s only seen you once than when she’s seen you often.
Taylor.
[With a wink at the others.] It seems to make you quite mad, the thought of me marrying.
Norah.
You wouldn’t talk about it like that unless you looked down upon women. Oh, I pity the poor wretched creature who becomes your wife.
Taylor.
I guess she won’t have a bad time when I’ve broken her in to my ways.
Norah.
Are you under the impression you can do that?
Taylor.
Yep.
Norah.
You’re not expecting that there’ll be much love lost between you and the girl you — honour with your choice?
Taylor.
What’s love got to do with it? It’s a business proposition.
Norah.
What!
Taylor.
I give her board and lodging and the charm of my society. And in return she’s got to cook and bake and wash and keep the shack clean and tidy. And if she can do that I’ll not be particular what she looks like.
Marsh.
So long as she’s not cock-eyed.
Taylor.
No, I draw the line at that.
Norah.
[Ironically.] I beg your pardon. I didn’t know it was a general servant you wanted. You spend a dollar and a half on a marriage licence, and then you don’t have to pay any wages. It’s a good investment.
Taylor.
You’ve got a sharp tongue in your head for a girl, Norah.
Norah.
Please don’t call me Norah.
Marsh.
Don’t be so silly. It’s the custom of the country. Why, they all call me Ed.
Norah.
I don’t care what the custom of the country is. I’m not going to be called Norah by the hired man.
&
nbsp; Taylor.
Don’t you bother, Ed. I’ll call her Miss Marsh if she likes it better.
Norah.
I should like to see you married to someone who’d give you what you deserved. I’d like to see your pride humbled. You think yourself very high and mighty, don’t you? I’d like to see a woman take you by the heart-strings and wring them till you screamed with pain.
Marsh.
[With a laugh.] Norah, how violent you are.
Norah.
You’re overbearing, supercilious, egotistic.
Taylor.
I’m not sure as I know what them long words means, but I guess they ain’t exactly complimentary.
Norah.
[Furiously.] I guess they ain’t.
Taylor.
I’m sorry for that. I was thinking of offering you the position before I went to the employment agency.
Norah.
How dare you speak to me like that!
Marsh.
Don’t fly into a temper, Norah.
Norah.
He’s got no right to say impudent things to me.
Marsh.
Don’t you see he’s only having a joke with you?
Norah.
He shouldn’t joke. He’s got no sense of humour.
[Norah drops a cup and breaks it, and as this happens Gertie comes in.]
Gertie.
Butter fingers.
Norah.
I’m so sorry.
Gertie.
You clumsy thing. You’re always doing something wrong.
Norah.
You needn’t worry, I’ll pay for it.
Gertie.
Who wants you to pay for it? D’you think I can’t afford to pay for a cup? You might say you’re sorry — that’s all I want you to do.
Norah.
I said I was sorry.
Gertie.
No, you didn’t.
Marsh.
I heard her, Gertie.
Gertie.
She said she was sorry as if she was doing me a favour.
Norah.
You don’t expect me to go down on my knees to you? The cup’s worth twopence.
Gertie.
It isn’t the value I’m thinking about, it’s the carelessness.
Norah.
It’s only the third thing I’ve broken since I’ve been here.
Gertie.
You can’t do anything; you’re more helpless than a child of six. You’re all the same, all of you.
Norah.
You’re not going to abuse the whole British nation because I’ve broken a cup worth twopence, are you?
Gertie.
And the airs you put on. Condescending isn’t the word. It’s enough to try the patience of a saint.
Marsh.
Oh, shut up.
Gertie.
You’ve never done a stroke of work in your life, and you come here and think you can teach me everything.
Norah.
I don’t know about that, but I think I can teach you manners.
Gertie.
How dare you say that! How dare you! You come here and I give you a home, you sleep in my blankets and eat my food, and then you insult me.
[She bursts into tears.]
Marsh.
Now then, Gertie, don’t cry. Don’t be so silly.
Gertie.
Oh, leave me alone. Of course you take her part. You would. It’s nothing to you that I’ve slaved for you for three years. As soon as she comes along and plays the lady....
[She hurries out of the room. Marsh hesitates for a moment and then follows his wife. There is a momentary pause.]
Taylor.
I reckon I might be cleaning myself. Time’s getting on. You’re coming, Ben?
Trotter.
Yes, I’m coming. I suppose you’ll take the mare?
Taylor.
Yep. That’s what Ed said this morning.
[They go out. Norah is left alone with Reggie Hornby.]
Hornby.
[With a little smile.] Well, are you enjoying the land of promise as much as you said I should?
Norah.
We’ve both made our bed and we must lie in it.
Hornby.
D’you remember that afternoon at Miss Wickham’s when I came for a letter to your brother?
Norah.
I hadn’t much intention of coming to Canada then.
Hornby.
I don’t mind telling you that I mean to get back to England the very first opportunity I get. I’m willing to give away my share of the White Man’s Burden with a packet of chewing gum.
Norah.
[Smiling.] You prefer the Effete East?
Hornby.
Rather. Give me the degrading influence of a decadent civilisation every time.
Norah.
Your father will be pleased to see you, won’t he?
Hornby.
I don’t think. Of course, I was a damned fool ever to leave Winnipeg.
Norah.
I understand you didn’t till you were forced to.
Hornby.
Your brother behaved like a perfect brick. I sent him on your letter and told him I was up against it — d’you know I hadn’t got a bob? I was jolly glad to earn half a dollar by digging a pit in a man’s garden. Bit thick, you know.
Norah.
[Laughing.] I can see you.
Hornby.
Your brother sent me my fare to come here and told me I could do the chores. I didn’t know what they were. I found out it was doing all the jobs that it wasn’t anybody else’s job to do. And they call it God’s own country.
[Meanwhile Norah has put a couple of irons on the stove and now she gets the board. It is rather heavy for her.]
Norah.
I think you’re falling into the ways very well.
Hornby.
What makes you think that?
Norah.
[With a smile.] You can sit by and smoke your pipe, and watch me carry the ironing board about.
Hornby.
[Without moving.] D’you want me to help you?
Norah.
No.... It would remind me of home.
Hornby.
I suppose I shall have to stick it out at least a year, unless I can humbug the mater into sending me enough money to get home with.
Norah.
She won’t send you a penny if she’s wise.
Hornby.
Wouldn’t you chuck it if you could?
Norah.
[With a flash of spirit.] And acknowledge myself beaten? [There is a short pause.] You don’t know what I went through before I came here. I tried to get another position as lady’s companion. I answered advertisements. I hung about the agent’s offices.... Two people offered to take me without a salary. One woman suggested ten shillings a week and my lunch. She expected me to find myself a room, clothes, breakfast and supper on ten shillings a week. That settled me. I wrote to Eddie and said I was coming. When I’d paid my fare I had eight pounds in the world. That’s the result of ten years’ work as lady’s companion. When he came to meet me at the station at Dyer....
Hornby.
Don’t call it a station, call it a depôt.
Norah.
My whole fortune consisted of seven dollars and thirty-five cents.
[Marsh comes in and gives Hornby a glance.]
Marsh.
What about that wood you were splitting, Reg? You’d better be getting on with it.
Hornby.
Oh, lord, is there no rest for the wicked?
[He gets up slowly and saunters lazily to the door.]
Marsh.
Don’t hurry yourself, will you?
Hornby.
Brilliant sarcasm is just flying about the house to-day.
[He goes out.]
Marsh.
That’s about the toughest nut I’ve ever been set to crack. Why on earth did you give him a letter to me?
Norah.
He asked me. I couldn’t very well say no.
[Throughout the scene Norah goes on ironing things which she takes from a pile of washing in the basket.]
Marsh.
I can’t make out what people are up to in the Old Country. They think that if a man is too big a rotter to do anything at all in England they’ve only got to send him out here and he’ll make a fortune.
Norah.
He may improve.
Marsh.
[With a look at Norah.] You’ve thoroughly upset Gertie.
Norah.
She’s very easily upset, isn’t she?
Marsh.
It’s only since you came that things haven’t gone right. We never used to have scenes.
Norah.
Do you blame me? I came prepared to like her and help her. She met all my advances with suspicion.
Marsh.
She thinks you look down upon her. You ought to remember that she never had your opportunities. She’s earned her own living from the time she was thirteen. You can’t expect in her the refinements of a woman who’s led the protected life that you have.
Norah.
I haven’t said a word that could be turned into the least suggestion of disapproval of anything she did.
Marsh.
My dear, your whole manner has expressed disapproval. You won’t do things in the way we do them. After all, the way you lived in Tunbridge Wells isn’t the only way people can live. Our ways suit us, and when you live amongst us you must adopt them.
Norah.
She never gave me a chance to learn them. She treated me with suspicion and enmity from the very first day I came here. When she sneered at me because I talked of a station instead of a depôt, of course I went on talking of a station. Because I prefer to drink water with my meals instead of strong tea she said I was putting on side.
Marsh.
Why can’t you humour her? You see, you’ve got to take the blame for all the English people who came here in the past and were lazy, worthless, and supercilious. They called us Colonials and turned up their noses at us. What d’you expect us to do? Say, “Thank you very much, sir; we know we’re not worthy to black your boots; and don’t bother to work — it’ll be a pleasure for us to give you money”? It’s no good blinking the fact, there was a great prejudice against the English, but it’s giving way now, and every sensible man and woman who comes out can do something to destroy it.
Norah.
[With a shrug of the shoulders.] If you’re tired of having me here I can go back to Winnipeg. I shan’t have any difficulty in finding something to do.
Marsh.
Good lord, I don’t want you to go. I like having you here, and it’s company for Gertie. And you know, jobs aren’t so easy to find as you think, especially now the winter’s coming on. Everyone wants a job in the city.
Delphi Collected Works of W. Somerset Maugham (Illustrated) Page 386