COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN i ONE ACT PLAYS BY GERTRUDE JENNINGS Published at one shilling net each by Samuel pRENCH.Liniited . ACID DROPS. One male, six female characters. ALLOTMENTS. Two female characters, both of which can be impersonated by men if desired. AT THE RIBBON COUNTER. Three female characters. THE BATHROOM DOOR. Three male, three fem.ale char- acters. BETWEEN THE SOUP AND THE SAVOURY. Three female characters. BOBBIE SETTLES DOWN. One male, three femal, characters. ELEGANT EDWARD. Eour male, one female characters. FIVE BIRDS IN A CAGE. Three male, two female char- acters. NO SERVANTS. One male, five female characters. '' EM SORRY—IT'S OUT I" Seven female characters IN THE CELLAR. Three male, three female characters. POACHED EGGS AND PEARLS. Three male, six female characters. THE REST CURE. One male, four female characters. THE NEW POOR- One male, four female characters. WAITING FOR THE 'BUS. Two male, ten female characters. FOUR ONE ACT PLAYS BY GERTRUDE JENNINGS. In one volum.e, containing " The Rest Cure," " Between the Soup and the Savoury," "The Pros and Cons," and "Acid Drops." Two Shillings and Sixpence net. COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN A Comedy in Three Acts a^^'thomas Made from the story of the same name BY ALICE DUER MILLER coin-RUiHT 1915 BY The Lxternational Macazink Company (harper's bazaar) COPVRK.HT 1916 (IX NOVEL FORM) BY ThK CeXTURY CoMPANV COPYRIGHT I92I BY A. E. ThOMAS All Rights Reserved NEW YORK SAMUEL FRENCH PUBLISHER 28-30 WEST 38TH STREET LONDON SAMUEL FRENCH. Ltd. 26 SOLTTHAMPTON STREET STRAND ^ 6^t V\6 s'\ ^C^ ^q^V 'CI.D 5 6804 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN Produced on March 15, 1920, at fche Strand Theatre, London, with the follow- mg Cast of Characters Age 30 55 .25 G Bfrton Ckane (From the North) Solon Tucker (His attorney and guest) . Paul Daingerfield {alias Smithfield) Charles Daingerfield (alias Brindlebury) Randolph Weeks (Agent of the Dainger- fields) 30 Thomas Lefferts (Statistical poet) . . 28 .♦Olivia Daingerfield (alias Jane Elien) . 22 Elizabeth Daingerfield (alias Araminta) 20 'Mrs. Falkeneb (Tucker's sister) . . ,^5^ 'Cora Falkenee (Her daughter) . . 24 Amanda (OUvia's black Mammy) . . (60 Time. — The present. Palace. — ^The Daingerfield ma.nsioa in Virgin. Mr. Frederick Worlock Mr. H. Athol Fords, Mr. A lick Chv.mleij Mr. John Williains Mr. Edgar Norfolk Mr. Frank Denton Miss Gertrude Elliotl Miss Maud Buchmian Miss Molly Havihy-GUjfovA Miss Winifred MeCartJiy Miss Barbara GoU ACT 1 The . Drawing-room of the Daisgerfield Mansion. ACT II The Kitchen. Two days later. ACT 111 The Dining-room. The same day. flB \2 «^i\ COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN ACT I The Scene is : Drawmg-room of the Dainxjerfield Mansion— a rather stately, big, old fandhj homestead of the tyjncal Virginia country sort. There is a fireplace at r. tvindoivs at l. The entrance l.c. is from the hall at rear. When the door is oj^ened, the foot of the stair- case can he seen. All the furniture and appointments, tvhile origin- ally high class and still beaiitijul in their simple Colonial way, show signs of long use. Over the fireplace hangs on r. wall a portrait of Grandfather Daingerfield, in a Lieutenants uniform of the Gon^- federate States of America. On the mantel is a clock set and a little miniature of a young girl in the dress of 1840. It is beautifully set in gold frame. A jjlan of the scene will be found at the end. Elizabeth, Charlie and Paul Daingerfield are discovered. Charlie seated r.c, Elizabeth, wearing her hat and a walking suit, seated l.c, Paul standing c. In short the family is evidently ready for departure. Paul is the oldest of all the Daingerfield children, being about 24. He is a tall, slim, grave young man, thoughtful but with little initiative. Elizabeth is a year or so younger, inclined to plumpness — not a had s&rt but a little sulky by nature. Charlie is the youngest of the group, being a lad of scarcely 17, quick moving, spirited and rather merry. After the curtain rises, the three wre silent a moment. Paul (before speaking, wmvcs uj) stage then down again at c). Keckon the old place is going to miss us ? {A pause.) Been a long time since there weren't any Daingerfields at all under this roof. {A pause. He looks at painting over fireplace.) Grandfather Dainger- field looks a little reproachful, doesn't he ? Never mind, never mind, old boy. Of course it's pretty hard being left alone in the old house with a confounded Yankee millionaire, but after all it's only for six weeks. So for Heaven's sake, cheer up ! Charles {moves to front of table). That's the idea, grandad. '{Sits chair r.c) That's the idea, grandad, but don't look so grumpy. We're not 7 8 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. leaving you for long, and we don't like it any better tlian you do . , . but we need the money. Paul. Need tlie money ! I should say we do. Elizabeth {places miniature on table beside her, breaking her rather sullen silence for the first time). I don't like it. I don't like it at all. I've said so from the beginning. Paul {down to top of table r.). Heaven knows you have, Bess. You've said it and said it and said it until I'm beginning to get sick of the sound of your voice. Elizabeth. I don't believe father and mother would approve of it for a moment. Paul {seated armchair r. of r. table). Well, we've got to do the best we can. If poor old dad had his health, it would be different. Do you realize he and mother have been away almost a year ? Charles {coming to back of chair c). Year next week. Paul. Travelling around from one cure Bad to another and poor- dad getting worse all the time. Charles. Yes, going from bad to worse, so to speak. Elizabeth {rises, then moves up c). Charlie, how can you joke about such a thing 'i Charles {turns up c. stop-ping her). Gee, I'm sorry ! I didn't mean it. I'd give my right arm for dad if it would help him, and you know it. Elizabeth {suddenly, as if struck by a brilliant idea. Crosses to L. side o/Paul). Paul, why can't we mortgage the place ? {Back of table R.) Charles {laughing). Oh ! Paul {laughing). You ought to know perfectly well there's a mortgage on this house that weighs a ton. Charles. That's why it leaks so when it rains. {Coming down, and sits r. of table l.) Paul {at table r., strapping up bookt>). When this house w^as built, they put a mortgage on it before they put the roof on. And that mortgage got married and raised a big family and they're all alive still. Randy Weeks told me you couldn't raise another cent on this place to save your life. Elizabeth {below table r., reflectively). If only dad hadn't quarrelled with Uncle Jelf erson ! Paul. Yes. I know it's bad luck that dad should have fallen out with the only Daingerfield that has a cent — but he did, and now Aunt Josephine's got to take us in out of the wet for the next six weeks, and the poor old dear can't afford it either. Elizabeth. Well, I don't like it. . . . {Moves to back of chair I., of table. To Charles.) I don't like it. I say it again, what will people say ? Paul. What'U they say if we don't pay our bills ? (Elizabeth exclaims.) COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. . 9 Charles. A!i now, Bess, wlicit^s the use of kicking ? It's too late now, anyhow, and think of the 5,000 dollars. Elizabeth. 5,000 dollars for six weeks ! Why, Paul, the man must be crazy ! It's bad enough to rent the place to a Northerner, but this man's evidently a lunatic as well. Paul. Not at all. He's just a rich man who doesn't care what it costs him so long as he gets what he want«. And just now he wants to live in an old-fashioned Southern country-home for six weeks in the height of the hunting season. Elizabeth {moves io chair l. of table r.c). Well, I don't like it. Charles {rises, exasperated a.nd goes ujt c). Go on and hate it, then. Have a good hate, only for Heaven's sake dry up ! Elizabeth. You know perfectly well you don't like it your- self. {Sits chair l. table.) Paul {rises and goes to mantel). Of course we don't — we only • Elizabeth. You wouldn't have consented to it at all if Livy hadn't talked you into it. It's all her doing. Charles {comes to hack of Elizabeth, digging her in the shoulder). Well, is it her fault if Livy's got more sense than all of us put together? Here's father and mother abroad fighting for father's life, and here we are at home dead broke an-.l not one of us got the gumption to raise a dollar till Livy up and shows us the way, and just because you don't think it's dignified — ( Taps Elizabeth's shoulder. Eliza- beth exdaims) — to rent the old place you sit around and sob. Dignified. Paul {comes to Charlie antl taj)s him. on r. shoulder, then turns up above table r.c). That's enough, Charlie ! {Moves hack to mantel.) Charles {not heedvmj him). Of course it ain't dignified, neither is starving. Elizabeth. Oh, I reckon we shouldn't starve. Charles. We'd starve, or beg, or sponge. Wliich would you rather do ? Elizabeth. Well, I tell you, I don't think Charles {throiving up his hands, and turning up c). Oh, Bess, for the sake of Heaven, please ! (Elizabeth rises and sits front of table.) (Charles turns and goes to r. quickly as he speaks.) (Enter Olivia at rear. This is the third Daingerfield in point of age, being a year or two older than Charles. She is of medium height, very slender and graceful, with hlue-grey eyes, light brown hair and mobile features. She is clearly the beauty of the family — arch, dainty, piquant, a bit of a flirt, humorous, quick, impulsive, in sJwrt a distracting young person. She, like the others, is dressed for going away. Elizabeth rises as Olivia enters.) 10 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. Charles {uj} r.c). Hello, Livy, thank the Lord you've come ! Olivia (c). What's the matter ? Charles. Sit on Bess for Heaven's sake, nobody else can do it. (Moves to golf clubs.) Olivia. What is it, Bess ? {Grosses to front of table l.c.) Elizabeth. I was only saying what I've said a dozen times before ; I don't like turning the old place over to a strange Yankee tenant, and I don't think father and mother would approve either. Olivia {crosses to Elizabeth). No dear, I reckon they wouldn't. I reckon they don't approve of e4irthquakes. Am you all ready ? {Goes to L.c. to back of table l.c.) Paul. Just waiting for Jack Curley to turn up with his wagon- load of servants. {Goes up R.) I thought he could take us back to town on his return trij). We'd only have an hour to wait for the up train and will get to Aunt Josephine's for dinner. {Close door, then doivn c. over to R. of Olivia.) Elizabeth. That's another thing. I wouldn't mind leaving the place so much if we were going to leave it in the Qa^ie— {meeting Olivia, who comes to her l.c. Paul crosses to mantel)~-oi our blessed old darkies, but this turning it over to four white servantsAOl^- from Washington — persons we've never seen in all our lives. Paul. Oh, they're all right. They've the best of recommenda- tions. Elizabeth. Well, all I've got to say is that any Yankee who doesn't know that Virginia negroes arc the best servants in the world has a lot to learn. Olivia. Yes, dear. {Then she adds, obviously to create a diver- sion.) I don't think your hat is quite straight. Elizabeth. Humph ! {However, she goes p'ompily to the con- sole mirror, l. between the ■windoivs.) Charles {coming to back of chair r.c, angrily). Bess makes me sick. You'd think to hear her talk that the rest of us had been sitting up nights, trying to find some way to drag the family honour in the dust and — — Olivia {crossing to him, and seizing his hand and inspecting the fingers closely). What's this ? Charles. What ? Olivia. Cigarettes again ! Charles {chagrined). ^W^ell, I can't help it. {Goes up r.c.) (Olivia folloivs up a bit.) {Enter Amanda at rear. This is a short, fat, typical old negro mammyy formerly Olivia's nurse and absolutely devoted to her. She carries a small bag that bears Olivia's initials. She is evidently much depressed.) Amanda. Here's youah little grip sack, Miss Livy. Olivia. Set it down by the door, please. COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 11 (Elizabeth takes her hag from chair and places hy window.) Amanda. Ya'ass, Miss Livy. {Puts hag on chair l. of the door c. and drops duster.) Olivia. Have all the others gone ? Amanda {turning c). Ya'ass, Miss Livy. Dey all done gone. Olivia. Sam and Wash and Jeff and Liza ? Amanda {a step c. to Olivia). Ya'ass, Miss Livy, all of 'em. Olivia. You understand now, you're all to stay at the cabins until you're sent for. Amanda. Ya'ass'm. Olivia. You're not to come within half a mile of the house- not one of you- — you understand ? Amanda. Miss Livy, honey child how how long dish yer banishin' gwine foh to las^ ? Olivia. About six weeks. Amanda. Ain' I done gwine foh to see you— all foh six weeks ? Paul {down r. corner of mantel). No, Mandy, we're all going to stay with Aunt Josephine. Amanda. Mighty funny Ah calls it — mighty Olivia (reproving her). Mandy ! Amanda. Ya'ass'm. {A pause.) {Business.) Olivia {going to her). You mustn't worry, Mandy, we'll all be back soon. Amanda {drawing Olivia's head doivn to her capiacious hosom, and, petting her). Oh, honey ! My li'l lady baby. Olivia. There, there, you old dear — it's all right, it's all right. There now^ — ^there — you just run along — and don't forget to feed my doves. {Moves to the hack of chair l. of r. tahle.) Amanda. No'm, Ah ain' gwine fergit nothin'. {Going.) Olivia. Good-bye, Mandy, good- bye, don't you worry now. Amanda (c). No, Miss Livy, I ain' gwine worry needer {turns hack), but all I got to say is— dat dish yer Yankee man, he mus' be funny Yankee man when he don' wan' no niggahs roun' wen he done sent his own folk down here foh to set us free. An' oh. Miss Livy, I ain' gwine to let you go widout me. I jus' cain't do it. Paul {at l. corner of fireplace, sternly). Mandy ! Amanda {to Paul). Yas, sir. {Then to Olivia c.) Ah ain't nevah been 'way fum yer befoh, not since you was a li'l baby what I could lif wid one finger. Wo^n you all went to New Yawk wid yoh paw an' ma^v, didn't I go 'long too ? Olivia. Yes. Amanda. Wen you all was in Washin"ton w'en yoh paw was 12 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. makin' all dem big laws, in the White House, didn't I go lono- too ? Olivia. Yes, I think you did. Amanda. Miss Livy, honey chile, why cain't I go wid you dm time too ? Olivia (e. o/ Amanda). I've told you, Mandy. Aunt Josephine's hardly got room in her little hovel for us. There wouldn't be any place for you. {Goes L. of chair, sittincj on arm.) Amanda. Listen, honey, listen. Ah doan' tak* uj) much room, {They all laugh.) And jes' as soon sleep on de flo'. Olivia {kindly, hut firmly). Mandy, that's enough. It's all settled. {Goes to Mandy.) Aaianda. Oh, Ah doan' want to leave you, Miss Livy, I doan' want to leave mah li"! lady baby. Olivia. Now don't be silly, Mandy. {Taking her hands.) It's all right. Now, honey, you run along. {Pushes Amanda a/}%d moves L. to above chair r. of table l.c.) Amanda. I'm gwine. . . . {Goes a few steps.) Oh, Miss Livy • {All turn.) Olivia. What ? Amanda. Ah done liab a terrible bad dream las' night. Ah Olivia, Hi, ha, ha ! C4et along with you. You're always having bad dreams. • Amanda. Yes, Miss Livy. But dish yer dream what I done Lab las' night {Coming doivn.) Olivia {ujatching Mandy). Run now, I mean it 1 Don't you forget a thing I've told you. Amanda. I cain't forget nuthin'. I never forget nuthin'. {Takes letter from skirt pockef. Laughs.) Oh, I clean forget dis here letter what Sam got over at de post office dis morning. But I never forgits nothin', honey, never. (Amanda exits laughing.) (Charles closes door after Amanda's exit.) Paul. Livy, who's your letter from ? Olivia {at chair l.c, looking at the envelope). Why, it's from mother. {Grosses to armchair r.c. and sits.) Charles. Where's it from ? {Coming down to Olivia's l. shoulder.) Olivia {who has torn it open). Switzerland. Paul. What's she say ? {Sitting on the back of the table and leaning over Olivia). COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 13 Elizabeth (brings chair from L. and sits on the left side 0/ Olivia). How's father ? Olivia {reading). Lausanne, October 23rd. My Darlings : You will doubtless be anxious to hear how your father and I are faring in this strange land. You must have already received my last letter written on the day of our arrival. Well, since then, your father has been examined by the specialists at the Hospital. I ought not to conceal from you that they think his condition very serious. In short they think an operation is the only chance. But it will be not for a fortnight yet, as they want to build up his strength. And now some business — ■ — {She pauses in the reading and. gulps down a lump in her throat. The others also show their grief. Presently she goes on.) Paul. Business ? Olivia. — some business. Enclosed is your father's cheque for $2,895. Ask Paul to send it at once (that's underlined) — at once, to John R Charles, Washington agent of the New York Life Insur- ance Company. Your father hasn't the address, but you will find it in the top drawer of his desk in the library Don't fail in tjiis — because if things should — because if things should — if things should go wrong, the insurance money would at least keep us all together for a little time to come. And now, my dears, don't worry too m.uch. We are all in God's hands. Your father suffers little pain. He sends his love to all of you, and so do I. I will send you a cable when the time comes. God bless and keep you all, my dears. — Mother." {A pause folloivs the reading of the letter, ivhile the Utile group struggle dumbly vjith their sorrow.) Paul, Let me see it. (Olivia hands him tlw letter and the cheque, then she rises and moves to the window down l. The others remain. There is a glimpse of a little pocket handkerchief as Olivia dabs her eyes. Elizabeth sits in chair r.c.) Paul. Two thousand eight hundred and ninety-five dollars. Whew ! {Rises.) {Pause.) Olivia {near ivindow down l.). How much will that leave in the bank, Paul ? Paul (c). About two hundred and fifteen. Charles. The Yank's $5,000 will make some difference, thanks to Livv. 14 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. OiiiviA {at ivindoiv down J..). Isn't it time Jack Curley was getting here with the servants ? Paul {moves to l.c, looking at his ivatch). More than time. He ou^ht to be here now. Olivia {tunving hack to the ivindoiv). Oh, here's somebody in a Ford. (Paul crosses to the %vindo>jj.) Why, it's Kandy Weeks. Let hiin in, Charlie. {Crosses c.) No servants, left, you know. (Charles goes out, leaving door open.) Wonder what Randy wants. Elizabeth {putting her chair hack l.c, significmUhj, looking at Olivia). Reckon I could guess without trying more than once. Olivia {smiling). Oh you, hush now. Elizabeth {teasing). Going to take him, Livy ! Olivia. Nonsense ! Elizabeth. Well, why don't you take him or leave him ? Paul (comes behind table hetweentheyn. Stands at l.c.) Don't ask silly questions, Bess. Why does a fisherman use a rod and reel and an almost invisible line when a poacher can yank 'em out with a net. Because it's more fun. Elizabeth. Humph ! Not for the HsIl {Crosses to front of table B.C.) Olivia. Oh yes, but that's what he gets for being a fish ! (Paul moves up stage a little. Olivia crosses to l.) Weeks {speaking outside). Yq», I know, Charley, but I just came up from there. {Enter ivith Charles. Weeks is a nice hiU common-place young Virginian of 30 gears or thereabouts. Paul goes up to greet Weeks, then comes l.) (Charlie goes r. of Weeks a,l c.) Elizabeth. Hello, Randy ! (Elizabeth by chair l. of table, r.) Weeks. Hello, Bess. Olivia. The birds are just flitting, you see. Weeks. Yes, I'm glad I caught yon in time. Olivia. Why, what's the matter ? Weeks. You see I'm afraid I've bad nev/s for you. I was down at the station and only two people got off the train -the conductor — ^and a darkey with one leg. All. Well, what on earth — etc. {Ad lib.) C.OME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 15 (Elizabeth sits l. of table.) (Charlik a step fonvard.) Weeks. And now I just got a tclograni (produces telegram) from Washington Registry Olfict\ (Elizabeth pushes Charles and takes his place.) Olivia. Those servants not coming ? (Standing l. of l. tahle.) Weeks. No- seems they changed their minds at the last moment. Paul (down hy Weeks). But why ? Why ? (Charles goes i\. to mantel.) Weeks. Didn't say. Too far from the city, porha^js. . Paul. But fchis is terrible — heaving us all in the lurch at the last minute. Weeks. Yes, I know it i,s. Olivia. Look liere. Randy. This is a mighty serious thing for us. This Mr. Crane, or whatever his name is, is arriving almost any minute, isn't he ? Weeks. Yes — he's coming in his m.otor. Charles (at mantel r.). And not a servant in the house. Elizabeth. Good thing too. Only one thing to do. Get our blessed old darkies back. Olivia. Bess, you know that's no good. (Sits chair l. of table L.C.) Weeks. Livy's right. Mr. Crane '.vas very particular about that. A full staff of jArhite servants and no darkeys around the place — -It's in the lease too. Paul (comes to Weeks). But it's not our fault. Don't you think that, under the circumstances, he ? Weeks. No, old boy, I don't. The matter of the servants was the only thing he was particular about, but he made it quite clear that if his wishes in that line were not respected he would not spend a night in the place. Of course, I daresay that within a few days we could round up another bunch. Meantime Elizabeth, (wouldn't you telegraph him not to come for a week ? Weeks. Good Lord ! No, v/hy, he's on his way here now — and he's asked two or three guests. (Moves to hack of table R.) Paul. Well, I reckon it's all olf then. (Crosses to hack of table L.C.) Anyhow, we've done our best. (Goes to loindoiv.) Charles (crosses to fireplace). $5,000 gone up the flue. Phew \ (Elizabeth comes to r. of table r.c.) Weeks (back of table r.) I'm mighty sorry. It's a dirty trick, and so I telegraphed 'em. Charles. Much good that does. We're $5,000 out and all we 16 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. get is the privilege of sassing 'em. And we can't say what we think over the wire, anyhow. Olivia {rises, crosses to l. of Weeks c.) Look here, Randy, you know what a facer this is. (Elizabeth rises and goes to Charlie at tnantel.) You don't suppose we'd have consented to rent the old place if we hadn't been pretty near rock bottom, do you ? Weeks. You don't have to tell me. I reckon I know. Olivia. You see, poor old dad's over there fighting for his life, that's all he can do — and the rest of us are pretty close to the wall. This $5,000 would have kept us going quite a while. (Olivia goes up c. Sees Mandy's apron, pichs it up and holes at it.) Weeks (k.c). Don't I know it ? That's why I boosted the price up on him till I felt like a highway-robber. Oh ! I know a house agent is supposed to have a hide like a hippopotamus ; but $5,000 for six weeks — {Gives a low whistle) — I could be arrested for that ! {Comes to front of table l.) Paul {at l. gloomily). Well, you needn't worry. You're safe now. Weeks. I'm horribly sorry, really I am. Paul. Thanks, Randy, thanks — yon did your best for us. {Short pause.) Olivia {coming down a little with apron in hand.) Look here, Randy, there w^erc four of those servants, weren't there ? (Elizabeth comes front of table k.) Weeks. Yes, four. Olivia. What were they ? (Charlie comes down r.) Weeks {front of table l.) Why, a butler, an upstairs girl and a sort of general boy for the boots and errands— and a cook. Olivia {tucks apron on). Well, what do you all want for dinner ? {All, except Olivia, laugh heartily.) ' Paul {comes above table to l. (/ h/i). Olivia, is this a time for fooling ? Olivia. Does I look like the cook or doesn't 1 ? Paul. Livy-- -j f^^foUn HiLizABETH. i^ or goodness sake ! ■ foqether.) Charles. But surely Livy, you're not thinking of j • Weeks {down l.). Hold your horses ! Hold your horses I Livy's not fooling. She's got hold of something. Olivia. Charley's the useful boy Charles. I'm the what ? Olivia {to Elizabeth). Bess is the upstairs girl. Elizabeth. Me ! COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 17 Olivia. Paul's the butler ! Paul. I'm the butler ? Olivia. And I'sc the cook ! (Weeks, ivho lias not moiled since speaking, noiv moves uji l. and across back to mantelpiece.) Paul. Nonsense ! {Crosses to Olivia c.) Elizabeth {collapsing on chair r.). Well, did anybody hear < Paul {comes doivn r. of table l.c). Livy, you don't mean it. Charles {crosses in front of table to Olivia). Olive ! Olivia. Now don't call me Olive. That's not my name, and I don't like it. An olive is nothing but an Italian prune. Charles. But, Livy {Sits l. table r.) Olivia (c). When mother and dad went abroad they took $6,000 with them. (Olivia comes doivn, Paul comes to her below table.) Most of that's gone. They left $5,000 in the bank for us. When the life insurance policy is paid, there'll be $215 of that left, and the unpaid bills are a foot high. Every stick and stone and living creature is mortgaged to the last cent. Horses, hunters, cattle, sheep, everything but the dog, and we'd have mortgaged him, if he hadn't had the mange. There's not a soul that we can turn to — not a soul — -there's only ourselves, and what can we do ? Nothing— not a thing ! Paul {advancing to Olivia). But Livy 1 See here, there must be some other way. Olivia. Oh, Paul, I'm not complaining, but you see we've never learnt how to do anything, Bess and I particularly — just untrained girls, and Charlies hardl}^ out of school — {Excla,mation from Charles. Elizabeth rl^es and goes up to Weeks bg 'mantel^ and you, Paul, are going to do wonderful things, I know, when you've finished your law course, but — meantime here's a chance to make good. Charles. Make good ! {Moves r. and stands below table.) Elizabeth. Make what ? {Gomes below table r.) Paul. That's all very well, Livy, but I don't exactly picture myself as a domestic servant. Olivia. Why not ? You'd look a dream ! {All laugh. She slips duster through his arm.) (Elizabeth joins Charles front of table.) Bess, Charlie — Oh, Paul, can't you see, whether we like it or not, it solves our problem, it solves father's i)roblem, it'll be for dad, can't you understand — our blessed old dad, — sick among strangers, and you hesitate. B IS COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. (Olivia goes up c.) Weeks (at mantel, coming down r. after a pause). Livy, you're splendid, but I don't quite see how Paul. Same here, sis. I don't see how we can do it. Olivia. Why not ? Elizabeth. We'd sure to be found out. (Olivia comes down c.) Charles. Sure. Neighbours woukl come in — people we know (Elizabeth and Charlie close to the table.) Paul. They'd give us away. Elizabeth. And what would they think ? Weeks. Yes, Livy ! It's a splendid idea. But I'm afraid it wouldn't work. Olivia. Why not ? {Crosses to Weeks r.) None of us has ever seen Mr. — what's his name ? Weeks. Crane — ^Burton Crane. Olivia. He wouldn't know us from Adam. Paul. But the others, our neighbours — people we've grown up with — — Olivia. Now wait, dear. . . . This is Thursday, isn't it ? Weeks. Yes. Olivia. Look here. Randy. Don't you think you could get a new lot of white servants here from Washington by Monday ? Weeks. Yes, it's just possible. Olivia. Oh, Randy, telegraph, telephone, go yourself, offer them double wages, anything to get them. Weeks. I might, yes. ... I think it could be done. Olivia. Then don't you see, we'd have only three days for our little masquerade. It would be quite safe. Mr. Yankee Man surely won't be giving a party for a day or two, and the third day is Sunday. Weeks. And now I think of it, he said he was coming here for a rest. Olivia (coming vp c. between Elizabeth and Paul). There — • don't you see — Paul ! Charlie ! Bess !- -just three days of it, and it's all right. _ Elizabeth. I— I don't believe I could. {Sits front of table r.) Olivia. Bess — boys — not for dad '? {They remain silent for a moment. Olivia comes c. to r. of Paul.) Oh, Paul, you will ? You darling ! Paul. Now hold on. Sis, I haven't said yes. Olivia. But you will. {Turns c.) And me for the kitchen. And I can cook — thank Heaven ! It's the only thing I can do. JRandy, you go look out of the window — ■ (Weeks crosses to l. loiver window. Olivia crosses to l. COME OUT OF THE KITCHEK 19 Paul. But how does one buttle ? Olivia. Oli, it's quite simple. You op (Jane ! Weeks. /(«'"»«« %«'M lEHcn ! Mrs. Falkener (coldly). There seenu? to be a slight difference of opinion. Olivia {in a dove-like voice). Me name is Jane Ellen, ma'am. Mrs. Falkkner. Well, Jane Ellen, I suppose you have refer- ences ? Weeks {hastily interposing). Oh, the very best, I assure you. Mrs. Falkener {not relishing the inter ruption). Mr. Weeks, if you please Weeks. From the Crosslet-Biliingtons, Mrs. Falkener, but unfortunately I have left them at my office. To-morrow, if you wish. Olivia {taking a paper from her apron pocket mid timidly handing it towards Mrs. Falkener). Here's me character, ma"ani. (Tucker takes it from Olivia and gazes at her. Mrs. Falkener snatches letter as he holds it oat.) Mrs. Falkener {holding out at ami s length and reading it). " To whom it may concern. This is to certify that I recommend the bearer, Jane McSorley, as a reliable girl and a competent cook. I have known her since her birth. She is leaving; me for reasons of her own, but she is the best cook I have ever employed. Olivia Daingerfield." Ahem ! k very flattering testimonial, iiest pas 'i And who is Olivia Daingerfield ? Mrs. Daingerfield, I suppose ? {Hands reference back to Tucker, who ha/mh it to Olivia.) Weeks. Er — no — no. Colonel and Mrs. Daingerfield are in Europe, I believe. Mrs. Falkener. Your friends travel a good deal, don't they 'I Weeks. Miss Olivia Daingerfield is one of the daughters. Mrs. Falkener. Oh ! {To Olivia). And may I ask what were these '' reasons of your own," my girl ? 'Olivia. Excuse me, ma'am. Mrs. Falkener. Why did you leave Miss Daingerfield's service ^ Olivia. Must I be afther tellin' ye that, ma'am ? COME OUT OF THP: KITCHEN. 31 Mrs. Falkener. I think so. Oltvia. Well, then, I couldn't stand the woman any longer. I was sick and tired of seein' her around the place. Mrs. Falkener. Indeed! {To Olivia.) My girl, let me see your hands. (Olivia approaches, hesitates a secoiul and holds out her hands, front and back, for inspection. Mrs. Falkener stares at them.) Humpli ! Manicured ! 80 you couldn't stand seeing her aroimd any longer, eh ? Olivia. Indade ma'am, I could not tlien. Sure, she was wan av them meddlin' females always pokin' her nose into things was none av her business. (Mrs. Falkexer winces slighth/. Crane and Tucker enjoy the dig.) Mrs. Falkener. Ahem ! Really ! And you went from her to the Crosslet-Billingtons ? Olivia. The who — ma'am ? Mrs. Falkener. That was the name, wasn't it, Mr. Weeks ? Weeks (behind table l. to Olivia. Hastily). Yes, yes, from the Daingerfields to the Crosslet-Billingtons. Didn't you, Jane Ellen ? Olivia. Maybe I did, sor. I could never be gettin' that quare name straight in me head. Mrs. Falkener (bluntly). My girl, have you ever been married ? Olivia. God forbid, ma'am ! Mrs. Falkener (not heediny her). Or engaged ? Olivia. Faith, ma'am, has that same anything to do with me cookin' ? Mrs. Falkener. Jtxne Ellen, don't be impertinent ! Olivia. No ma'am. 'Tis a sin we shall all pray for strengt^h to avoid. (Mrs. Falkener starts, Craxe and Tucker smile.) Mrs. Falken^^r {annoyed). Jane Ellen, will you answer m.y ques- tion ? Have yon ever been engaged ? Weeks. If you'll excuse me, Mrs, Falkener, for saying so, I really Mrs. Falkener. If you please, Mr. Weeks, I'm just trying to Olivia {short pause). Well ma'am, 'tis not that I've anything to conceal. I was engaged wanst — Pat Conlon his name was — -as fine a broth av a boy as iver came out av Ireland. We was to have mar- ried lasht June, on'y d'ye see, there was a quarrel an' I— I — jusht can't bear to think av it — every time me mind gets runnin' on it, it just seems like {Going a few steps up l.) 32 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. {She 'pulls out a handkerchief and begins to sob qvAetly. Weeks and Tucker gather round her to comfort her.) (Cora rises.) Crane. Weeks. Tucker. {together rOh, Jane Ellen, please, please don't cry. Nobody wants to hurt you. Now Jane Ellen, please I {Comes up l. of Olivia.) Look here, my girl, please don't do that ! . {Comes to front of Olia^a.) (Olivia murmurs inarticulaiely through her sobs.) Mrs. Falkener {rises). Weil, really, I think I've had enough of this. Crane {down r. rather stiffly). If you'll excuse me, my dear Mrs. Falkener, I think — perhaps we all have — for the present. Mrs. Falkener {angry). Oh well — - — (Tucker opens door for her c.) (Crane moves up r. behind table, a little cross.) Very well, then, I'll say good-'i'igbt. Come, Cora. {She goes out in high dudgeon.) Cora {coming up c). Oh, Jane Ellen, you mustn't cry. Mother didn't mean to hurt you. {Going.) She shouldn't have said that. {Now on R. side of Olivia pals her on shoulder. A fresh burst of sobbing comes from the handkerchief.) Oh, well, I suppose I'd better go too. Good-night. (Cora goes out.) Tucker {ivho has hurried, back from opening door and has been dying for a chance to comfort Jane Ellen, l. o/ Jane). I'm quite sure my sister did not mean to be unkind. There nov/ — there — • there ! {Pats her shoulder.) (Mrs. Falkener reappears at door, saying iihperatively.) Mrs. Falkener. Solon ! Tucker. Yes, my dear. (Mrs. Falkener exits. Tucker reluctantly goes out. Weeks goes up to L. of Olivia, _2;a'i6.?e5 to speak, Crane cofnes up to him to shake hands.) Crane. Good-night ! (Weeks exits.) [After a pause, outside door l. .'^lams.) COME OUT OF THE KITCHEX. 33 Crane. Now see here, Jane Ellen, please don't cry. Please — ■ just just as a favour to me. Mrs. Falkener has gone. Jane. Gone has she "? {Suddenly shoiving a face quite innocent of tears, rather roguish in fact.) Faith, I'm feelin' better already. Crane. Jane ! What in the name- Jane. Sure then, I suppose herself ud a been askin' me was me hair all me own next — or was me gran'father a dhrinkin' man — an' what was me favourite flower ? Crane. Well, God bless my soul ? Jane. Faith, an' I hope he will, sor. Was there anything else sor ? Crane. No-o ! No-o ! {She turns wp c.) Just one thing, Jane Ellen. (She stops and returns doivn c.) I should like you to feel perfectly happy here. Jane. Faith, sor, 'tis mesilf that's hopin' to. Crane. So if there's anything I can do to — to make you feel - — er — happier- — -I want you to promise you'll let me know. Jane. Anything, sir ? Crane. Yes, anything at all — anything ! Jane {starts up c.) Yes, sir. {Ujj to door and opens it.) Crane. I mean '■ (Jane stops, closes door and returns.) Don't send the butler, just come to me — you — yourself person- ally^ — and tell me, will you ? Jane. Sure an' I might. Crane. No, but will you ? Jane. Yes, sor. Crane. That's fine — ^now — -now — I'm sure we shall get on splendidly together, you and I. Shan't we ? Jane. Well, that's as may be sor, but — we might. Crane. Might ? What do you mean by that ? Jane. Sure an' ye niver can tell. Crane. Eh? Jane. Sure, sor, w^e must always be hopin' for the best. But we might, sor, we might. Thank ye, sor. {Going up to door exits.) Crane {runs up and ojjens door agaiyi). Oh, cook, cook ! Jane {appeari^ig on other side of door). Yis, sor ? Crane {with the open door hetiveen them). About breakfast — I- I shall want some breakfast. ... Jane. Yes, sor, not till the mornin', I suppose, sor ? Crane. No, no, — certainly —not till the morning. Jane. AYell — some fruit, coffee, toast an' eggs, sor % Crane. Yes, of course, eggs, eggs. c 34 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. Jane. About three minutes, sor ? Crane. Yes— yes— three minutes. Jane. An' belike a bit of bacon, sor ? Crane. The very thing. Jane. Just broiled to a crisp, sor ? Crane. Just as I like it. Jane. Yes, sor, an' ye said the eggs ten minutes. . . . Crane. Yes— ten minutes— yes— er— {She doses door suddenly and out of sight.) No— no — three minutes. {He re-opens door with her on the other side of Inoh.) Jane. Oh, three minutes; ye can just as aisy have tliim ten minutes. 'Tis the water does the bilin' — not me. Good-night to ye, sor. {Exits to r., leaving it open this time.) Crane {in the doorway c. looking off r. after her). Good-night, Jane Ellen. Jane {outside r.). Good-^ight, and the top of the morning to ye. Crane {turns facing audience with a qjleased laugh). Well, God bless my soul ! Quick Curtain. ACT 11 Scene. — The Kitchen. Time. — Tivo days later, in the aflciiwon. The Kitchen is a elieeri) apartment with one ivindoiv r.c. looking into the garden. There is a door c. into the garden, which remains open, throughout the Act. On the R. are siving doors, then the door of a kitchen cupboard ; then, doivn r., a sink. A jingle-hell indicator with numbers from 1 io 6 hangs over tJiie swing doors. When the door of the kitchen cupboard is opened, one sees brooms, mops, etc., and the shelves full of tinned things. At the sink is a hand pump and drainage to carry away water. Up stage l. is a door ivhich opens on to a passage which, in turn, leads to the larder. Belotv it is a kitchen range, upon which stand several saucepans and kettles with steam going in some of them. Down l. is the kitchen back door, and upon it hangs a roller towel. Betiveen the c. door and the l. corner of the kitchen is a dresser covered with copper utensils, baking pans, etc. Down l.c. is a big kitchen table. Small cane-bottomed chair between the dresser and the jwt rack. Big cane-bottomed cho/ir to R. of table. Between the door and the window a small cane- bottomed chair and a boot box, containing brushes, rags, etc. There is a shelf oner the fireplace for salt, etc. The curtain rises on a- few strains of '' Liza Jane.'^ Discovered, Brin-dlebury washing dishes at the sink. He throws out water fro in dish pan, pumps it full again from the hand pump and starts vmshing more dishes. Paul at rise is drying dish 'with dish towel, ivhich he places on the draining board of the sink. He then takes tray — which is leaning against upper end of sink — 2nd holds tt while Brixdlebury places the 'washed and dried dishes on it. Jane Ellen is standing l. of table slicing sweet- potatoes into baking pan. When tray is full Paul starts to go, hut is stopped by BrilVdlebury. BrindlebuR'Y. W.iit a niiniit.:, l\ir. Butler, you can take one- more. (Smithfiei,[) returns, and Brindlebury places another cup — three in all — 97? tray with the other plates.) 35 36 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. Smithfield. Hold on. Look lierc, I'm no juggler. Always room for one more is your motto. First thing you know you'll make me spill the lot. Brindlebury. Oh, run along now, and don't talk back ! Smithfield {going towards swing doors). Well, if we smash any more there Mon't be enough to go round. (Brindlebury drom a dish in siuJc.) Lord, save the pieces ! (Goes out through siving doors.) Jane (l. of taUe). Charley ! Mother's best china, you must be careful. Brindlebury. Gee, I couldn't help it ! The darn thing slipped. {They resume their work — pause.) Heard anything from Randy ? Jane {going to stove and looking at soup in the pot). No, and we ought to ; it's been two days already. Brindlebury. I recl*on he don't dare to telephone. Jane {back at table). I rather thought he might try and sneak in and see us. {Puts butter on the potatoes.) Brindlebury. He'd better hurry up. I'm beginning to feel as though I needed an imderstudy. Jane. You ! Oh, I'm not worried about you ! It's Bess that bothers inc. Brindlebury. Oh, Bess, she's all right. She {Drops another dish crashing into the sink.) Jane. Charley ! Well, really ! Brindlebury. Gee, I'm sorry ! Jane. I don't want you to be sorry — I want you to be careful. It's a good thing you don't have to earn your living washing dishes. Brindlebury. Is that so ? What am I doing now, I'd like to know ! Jane. You"re breaking up liousekeeping. {She takes demi-john of sherry. Enter Araminta through the swing doors, carrying three lace collars. Araiminta, evidently in a fury of temper, crosses to l., gets ironing board from side of dresser and slams it on the table. Goes to the stove for a flat iron, and takes a holder from upper end of mantel. Goes to the ironing board and begins to iron the collars. After a slight pause.) Hello, sweetness ! {Pause.) What's the matter, honey 1 {Pause.) How's the old dragon to-day ? Araminta {ironing viciously). I'd like to wring her neck. {Bangs iron down.) Brindlebury. Oh, naughty, naughty ! -Araminta {turning on him. furiously). You shut up ! {This startles him, and he drops another ■ plate.) COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. :j7 I guess you'd be cross, too, it you iiad to wait on that old hen all day and all night. Nothing ever suits her. This is the third time I've ironed these collars. I hope they choke her. (Jane Ellen j^outs syrup on jMatoas . Smithfield re-enters ivith emj^ty tray, and Charley proceeds to fill it up ivitli Tiiore frcsJily ivashed dishes.) Jane. Bess, dear. (Smithfield jw'occer/.s- io dry plates.) Araminta {imitating Mrs. Falkener). My good girl this and my good girl that. If she's what they call a lady u]) North I'd like to see -what they call the other thing. (To Jane, who is grating a nutmeg on the potatoes.) Oh, I'm in it because you dragged me in, but I give you fair warning, if Randy Weeks doesn't produce those servants pretty quick, Fm through. I can stand about twenty- four hours more of that old hen and that's all. Smithfield {coming up a little r.c). See here, Bess, you don't seem to understand. Araminta. Oh, dry up ! All you have to do is to serve her meals ; how'd you like to hock her up ? (Charley laughs. Jane Ellen /^^fe a cup with hot ivater from kettle and. pours it on potatoes.) Jane. I know, honey. I know it's very hard, but it won't last long, and I daresay you are rather trying. You always forget the tea strainer from her breakfast-tray, or you don't remember to call her at eight or something — you're not very competent. {Goes to door and ivipes hands on towel.) Araminta. Competent ! Of course I'm not. Why on earth should I be competent ? Jane. No, dear, of course not. Only you see she doesn't know that. And I do think you might remember the tea strainer, Araminta. Weil, it's more trouble to me than to her. Don't I have to chase downstairs again and get it ? Competent ! I wish I had her here, I'd iron her ! {Slams the flat iron viciously on the table.) Jane. Bess, dear, I don't see how you can — when you know what's at stake. Why, at this very moment dear old daddy may be {She chokes up and stops — ^j'w^s- the roller towel to her eyes.) Smithfield. I say, sis, that's a towel, not a handkerchief. Jane {going to stove, over her shoidder to Smithfield). Oh, shut up. ^ Araminta. I know, Livy, I'm a pig ; but if I'm a pig, she s a cat. (Jane 'puts pan of potatoes in oven.) 38 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. Brindleeury. She's a dragon, a hen and a cat, some naenagerie ! (No. 4 hell rinf/s.) Smithfield {looking at indicator). No. 4, Bess. Araminta {puts doivn iron). There slie goes again — I don't see how that bell stands it. {Takes her collars and starts for the door.) If she doesn't look out, I will steal her silk stockings. {Exit Ara- minta angrilij.) (Jaxe resumes at the tahle.) Smithfield. She sure is a pretty nasty bit of work, and no mistake. Brindleeury. She's no worse than old Tucker. I'd like to poison him. Jane {goes up to end of table. At ironing hoard.) Yes. Things run in the family, don't they ? And we're all so good-natured, aren't we ? {No. 2 hell rings.) Your bell, Paul. {She takes tray from Smithfield.) Smithfield {looking at indicator and assmning Ms servant's man- ner). Yes, sir. You said '" .go to hell,"' sir ; certainly, sir — after you, sir. {Exit through swing doors.) Jane. Charley, take this tray into the butler's pantry, and for Heaven's sake don't drop it. (Charley hreaks dish in sink.) And please do try not to break any more. Be careful ! There's the door. (Charley stumbles, nearly droppiug the tray.) Now, don't juggle those^ (Charley exit through swing doors.) {Rattling of plates heard off.) Jane {puts iron back on stove and pids ironing-hoard hack L.c. Randy We-eks furtively opens the kitchen door down l. Jane, turn- ing, sees him). Randy! Weeks. Hello, Livy ! Jane {excitedly). Any news ? Have you got them ? Are they coming ? Oh, do say they are ! Weeks. Yes, I think so. Jane. Randy, you're a darling ! {She goes otef door up l for a fnx)?nent.) COME OUT OF THE KITCHEJs^. 39 Weeks (going to r. of table). But they're not coming till Tuesday. Jane. Tuesday — that's three days more. (Returns with chicken and puts it on kitchen table.) Weeks. Couldn't get 'em a minute sooner, but I think you're lucky at that. White seryants willing to come to the country are scarce this, season. How are things going ? Jane. Oh, I reckon we'll pull through if Bess doesn't explode. She doesn't care very much for the chaperon. (Takes baking tin from lower shelf of pot rack. Puts it on kitchen table.) Weeks (laughing). I don't blame her. Snob ! I say, Liyy, are you glad to see me ? Jane (putting chicken in baking pan). Never gladder to see any- body. Weeks. Prove it. Jane. All right. As a mark of my special favour I will allow you to Weeks. Yes ? Jane. Freeze the ice-cream. (She pulls the ice-cream freezer out from lower end of table.) Weeks (sarcastically). Livy, that's perfectly splendid of you. {Taking freezer.) Jane. Now don't grumble, go to work ! (Takes pepper and salt cellars from lower end. of mantelpiece and places them on table.) Weeks. I don't know that I'm so crazy about freezing Crane's ice-cream. {Sits chair r. of table, and takes out handkerchief to hold freezer handle.) Jane. And Mr. Tucker's too, don't forget him. Weeks (turning the crank of the freezer). Tucker ! Hm ! Jane (relapsing into her brogue and beginning to tease him, deliber- ately). Faith, an' he's me favourite. (W^eeks glares.) He's what you might call a virile, don)inating personality. (Salts and pepjjers the chicken. Butters chicken.) Weeks. Hm ! (Turns the crank angrily.) Jane. No, no, no, no, no. (He siojjs turning.) Don't you be turning it so fast. You'll be spoiling the dessert entirely, so you will. Weeks. Look here, do you mean to say this man Tucker comes into the kitchen ? Jane. Not yet. (Gets flour in cup from flour barrel.) Weeks (jumjjs up). Not yet ! Jane. A strong man, me dear. Shure ho looks like the husband 40 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. on the stage with a brush of powder over the ear. {Flours the chichGn.) Weeks {leaves the freezer and. goes to Jane, ahove table). My dear girl, you're not going to let this man make love to you. Jane. Shure, it's not always aisy to prevint. (Gets cuj) of hot water from kettle.) Weeks {above l. table). You've always prevented me as often as you wanted to. Jane. Often, but not as often as that. Weeks. Oh, come now, drop the Irish. {A step to her.) Jane. Shure, I need the practice. Now then, you get along back to the ice-cream {Pours ivater in chicken pan.) {He returns to freezer.) Shure, if all's not well w^ith the dinner that awful old woman will be having us all thrown out, so she w^iil now. Weeks {turns freezer slowly). They say Crane is supposed to be engaged to her daughter. {Pause.) (Jane goes to oven.) Jane {putting chicken in oven). Faith, then, I don't envy him his mother-in-law. {Shuns the oven door.) Weeks. I say, what do you think of Crane ? (Jane crosses e. with dish and sherry jar.) {Pause, he stops freezing, and turns to her.) I say, what do you think of Crane ? {Leans on the corner of the table.) Jane {putting dishes she has just been using in the sink). Oh, that man's well enough. {Goes up to cupboard ivith sherry jar.) Weeks. You knovr you're a funny girl. Now I always thought {Rises.) Jane. Oh, freeze, freeze ! Weeks {sits again). You know perfectly well you can do anything in the world with me. {Turns the freezer jerkily.) (Jane puts sherry jar on shelf in cupboard.) Jane, Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Not that way— it ought to be steady and even. Here, let me show you ! {Kneels R. of him. by freezer, and begins to turn the crank.) See, like this — slow^— like this ! There, do you sec what I (Weeks puts handkerchief on knee.) {As she turns, he kisses her. She jumps up, ivith cooking spoon in hand.) Eandy Weeks, vou go home, and don't vou ever come back ! {Going COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 41 Weeks (l.c). But. my dear— Jake (r.c). GfO home ! (Weeks drops his JimidkeTcJiiff as he rises.) Weeks. D'yoii mean it '? Jane. I do ; oh, I do ! (Weeks half turns to go.) (Tucker is strolling prist the door c. and is arrested hg their voices. He stops to listen — he is obviously anxious to know who the young man is, but cannot see him.) Weeks {turning to her). The^act is you're a cold, heartless flirt, who thinks of nothing but herself. You don't care a bit what other people suffer. Bess is worth ten of you. Jane. Go and kiss her then. Weeks. She wouldn't stand it, she's not that sort. Jane {takes a few steps towards him.furioiis). But I am ! I stand it, do I ? If I could I'd kill you. As it is I hate you ! Weeks {at bottom of table, ^idhily). It's your own fault ; you tempted me. Jane. Tempted you ! Weeks. Yes, and you know ic. Jane. How did I know you were going to be so siliy ? Weeks. You've always pretended to like me. Jane. That's just what I did, pretended. Weeks {turning to go, erossing to l.). You'll be L^orry for saying that. Jane. I won't ! Weeks. Yes, you will I Jane. No, I won't ! Weeks. You will Jane. I won't ! Weeks. You will, too. I pity the. man who marries you. Jane. You'd marry me to-morrow if you could. Weeks. I would not. Jane. You would. Weeks. I would not ! Jane. You would. Weeks. Not if you were the last woman in the world. Jane. Eandy Weeks, you go home ! Weeks. Good-bye. Jane. And shut the door ! (Weeks exits door down l. add slams the door.) (Jane laughs, picks up haytdkerchief that Weeks has dropped, looks at it, and tosses it into chair. Puts freezer under the table and^ crosses front of table. Tucker, hearing the door slam on Weeks'- 42 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. exit, thin'ks of enterinfj the hltehen ; lie looks cautiously to r. and l. Just as he had made up his mind to enter, Olivia drops Weeks's handkerchief into chair, and Charley e^iters with pair of hoots. Tucker steps hack.) Charley. I forgot the old geezer's boots. (Tucker glares at him and exits to k., gimng him another look of dis- approval as he passes the ivindow. While Charley polishes hoots with hrush and rag, which he takes from hoot hox under ivindow, he ivhistles " Liza Jane." Jane Ellen goes out of door tip l., returning and hringing a howl of corn, a hoivl of eggs, and lastly a jug of milk. These she places on the kitchen table.) Jane. Is that all ! {At this moment No. 3 hell rings. Charley slams down the lid of hoot hox and exits polishing one hoot on the seat of his trousers. Jane Ellen takes syrup jar from table and crosses r. to cuphoard and puts it on shelf, then to range. As she crosses Tucker, after seeing she is alotie, comes into kitchen. Jane Ellen has heen singing " Liza Jane,'' hut seeing Tucker out of the cornier of her eye changes to " The Pretty Girl Milking her Cow.'' At the end of the verse she turns and smiles at Tucker.) Tucker. Good afternoon, Jane Ellen. Jane. The top av it to you, sor. (Turns from stove, small saucepian in haiid to l. of tahle.) Tucker {doivn a step). I hope I don't intrude. Jane. Oh, sor, I see it is an optimist ye are. {Takes up wooden spoon from tahle and stirs saucepan.) Tucker {with a superior smile). Now, what can you possibly know of optimists, my girl ? Jane. Sure, an optimist, is a man that looks after your eyes. Tucker {laughing). Oh, Jane Ellen. Jane. Sure, I've heard tell, more than wance, that an optimist was a man who could always deceive himself, even though everybody else in the world could see through him. {Brings saucepan to tahle, still stirring.) Tucker {putting his l. hand on the tahle and leaning towards her). Jane Ellen, I fear that you have a frivolous mind. Jane. Oh, sor, indade an' indade I hope not. (^4^^ she speaks she stops stirring, and puts the hot spoon on Tucker's hand.) Tucker {jum,ping vjith the paJ/n). Ouch ! Jane. Oh, sor, did I burn ye ? 'Tis that sorry I am, sor. {Puts saucepan hack on stove and, stirs sauce.) Tucker {very siveetly). It's nothing, it's nothing. I was going to say— that^ — despite a certain lamentable tendency towards frivol- ity which I observe in your nature, I — I — er — I — er — well, I am COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 43 an older man than your eniploycr. (Movimj up to hack of lahle.) Jane. Oh yes, sor, much, much older. TRUCKER. Hm ! Well— er— older, at all events {Goes above tabic.) (Jane is at stove.) I have seen more of life, and perhaps understand more thoroughly the — ^er — the difficulties which beset a young and I must say a pretty woman. Jane {turning to him). Why must you say that, sor ? Tucker. Why, Jane Ellen, because it is the truth ! Ah, my dear child {Moves towards her, when she picks up the kettle from the stove and hands it to him.) Well, I'll try Jane. Would you kindly be holding that for me ? The stove is that crowded. (Tucker takes kettle, findimj it hot changes it from one hand to the other. Going c. Jane busies herself at stove, and Tucker anxiously looks out of the door, to see if anybody is likely to catch him in. that predicament.) {Turning.) Er — you were about to say, sor ? Tucker. Oh, yes, yes. {Going to hack of tahlc.) That — er — ■ if any little trouble should rise in the household, I — er — would like to know that you look upon me as a friend. g[ANE. Oh, Mr rTticker ! Tucker. I shall be glad to do you a good turn. Jane. Indade, then you can do me that same good turn right now. Tucker {beaming at her). My dear child, vou have only to name it. Jane. You can be afther turning your back on me. Tucker. You — ^you wish me to go ? Jane. Shure, the kitchen is no place for the loikes of a gintle- man. Tucker {giving look at the door through ivhich Weeks made exit). Did 3"ou think so ten minutes ago ? Jane {gives a quick look, and then turns to stove). Shure, this sauce is boiling over. The devil an' all's in that stove. The minute I turn me back, somethin' boils over. Tucker. My- dear Jane J]llen. (Jane puts saucepan into his l. hand.) Jane. Will you be holding that, sor ( (Tucker shows thai it's very hot.) Tucker. Ill try. 44 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. Jane (iasiing it). l"m thinking it needs a little bit more salt. (Takes shaker from table.) (Tucker, during the previous speech, realizes he is in a very undignified jwsition, OMd casts anxious glances towards door r. and c, Jaiste sprinUes salt into the pan, and ivhile Tucker turns his head to look at door, spills some on his shoulder.) (Smiles at him, which he returns flirtily.) Why, yer honour's got a bit of soot on yer honour's face. Hold still now while I get a rag and wipe it oft. Oh, Mr. Tucker, wherever have you been — sure there's a bit of (Tucker is now quite alarmed, and glances nervously up stage as he does this. Jane takes rag from her waist hand, smears it on stove, and returns to Tucker, ivijjes some black on his face.) Why, you don't want to be goin' round with black on one side of yer face, Mr. Tucker. Wliy, wherever have you been, Mr. Tucker ? Shure, tliere's a little bit on yer honour's chin. (Rejjeats business on his chin.) Tucker. Thank you, thank you very much, Jane Ellen. Jane. Don't mention it, sor. Faith, some one'd shure be askin' where yer honour'd been, with that face on you. [Cow.es to table and takes bowls.) Tucker {reminded by this that somebody might come in and catch him — turns to Jane Ellen). Yes, exactly — ^that's why if you wouldn't mind taking these — — Jane. Yes, sor, I will — but just half a minute, sor (xit this moment Beindlebury comes in, goes to sink, and turns.) Brindlebury. I say, Livy ! Tucker {hearing his voice, turns to face him). (Brindlebury collapses with laughter.) (crosses majestically to him). And may I ask the cause of this un- seemly mirth '? Brindlebury {leaning against the sink — convulsed ivith laughter). Yes sir, certainly you may ask. Mr. Crane is just coming up the drive in the motor. Tucker. I do not see the connection. {Frightened at the idea o/Crane catching h im, he hurries to the table. At the bottom end of table, he puts the kettle and saucepan on it). But perhaps I'd better go and meet him. {He hurries to door c.) Brindlebury (just as he gets outside). I think I would if I were you. (Tucker turns.) COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 45 It vseeras to me there are altogetlicr too many men in the kitchen. Tucker (re-entering worn with f/reat dignitij). Boy ! Brindlebury {threateningly). Well ? Tucker (nervously). Are you speaking to me ? (Jane moves to r. of table. Has stnall saucepan in hand.) Brindlebury. Yes. (Goes up a little to Tucker — his fists clenched.) I just want to tell you that Jane Ellen is my sister. Tucker. Indeed 1 Well, Brinby, I can't confess to taking an/ very deep interest in your family relations. (Down c. a step.) Brindlebury. Apparently youVe taken enough interest in one of them to come to the kitchen and talk to her. And I won't have it. Jane. Brinby don't ! Tucker (comes doivn). How dare you talk to me like this? Brindlebury. You get out of this kitchen, or I'll (Threat- ens to strike.) Jane (crossing, pushes Brindlebury down r.), Brinby, what are you doing? Brindlebury (sulkily going down stage r.). I know what I'm doing all right. Jane (on r. of Tucker). Faith, sor, 'tis very ashamed I am an' all, but yer Honour will plaze to remember he's nothing but a lad. Tucker. He's old enough to know better. Brindlebury (turning on him). How about you, you old chim- panzee ? Tucker (down l.). W^hat ' Jane. Be quiet ! (To Tucker.) Shure sor, I hope yoii can see your way to forgiving him. An' him only a poor hard-working lad like he is, an' so sorry an' all. Tucker. He doesn't look very sorry. Brindlebury. No, an' I'm not sorry, either ! Tucker (turning to Jane Ellen and loalking up to door). There, you see ! Now I shall certainly report him to his employer. Jane. Now see what you've done. Brindlebury. I don't care, I'm glad of it. Jane. Glad of it. Brindlebury. I don't care ! D'you reckon I'm going to have that old chimpanzee coming in here to make love to you ? Jane. Oh, I suppose if Mr. Crane came in now you'd throw the flat irons at him. I reckon I can take care of myself. Don't you suppose I've ever been made love to before ? Brindlebury. Well, ves, I reckon you have. Crane (off). Hallo, Tuck. Brindlebury. Oh, gee ! (Runs out through swing doors.) 46 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. (Jane Ellen runs off through door up l. Tucker re-enters. Crane and Cora enter after him,) Crane {speahinf/ in doorivay). Well — ^we've been searching tlie house for you. (Tucker moves to lower end of table, facing audience — Crane puts his hat on chair r. of door e. They come down c.) Tucker. Have you, and I've been looking for you everywhere. Crane. Even in the kitchen. Tucker (as he turns, Crane and Cora see his dirty face and begin to laugh). I beg your pardon^ — — Crane. Good Lord, Tuck, what have you got on your face ? TuGK^R^^^^^^^What the devil do you ineaii^^my face^l Cora. Oh, Uncle Solon, have you been in the coal bin ? Tucker (very angry). What is it, what is it, what is it ? Crane. Have you been kissing the stove ? Tucker. Really, Burton {Starts to go to Crane, but is stopped by Cora.) Cora. Why, uncle, you're all over smudges. Here, do let me wipe your face. {She s^nudges his face worse with handkerchief, which she has taken from his coat pocket.) What a mess ! Look at that ! T&eKER^. GoTod Lord ! Cora. There, there, that's better. (Tucker thinks she has iciped his face clean so regains his dignity.) Crane. Really, Tuck, where have you been ? Tucker. I really can't imagine ! (To Cora.) I'm much obliged to you, my dear. {Goes l., suddenly remembering Brindle- bury's insult speaks to Cora.) Cora, I've something to say to Burton that I think you'd better not hear. Cora. Oh ! how very interesting ! W^ell, all right, I'll go any- way, I promised mother I'd go for a walk. {She goes up to doorway.) Crane {moves up c. near door). Eii. Then I'll come and join you later, if I may Cora. Very well. You'll hurry up though, won't you, Burton ? Crane. Yes, I won't be long. Cora. All right. Burton. {She goes out and passes window.) Crane {coming down tovxirds c. to Tucker). Well, Tuck ? Tucker. I must ask you to dismiss that boy at once. Crane. W^ho, Brinby i Tucker. Yes. Crane. Good Lord, what for ? COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 47 Tucker. Ho has been grossly insolent to me. Crane. Eealiy ? Tucker. In addition to which he attempted to strike me. Crane. Good Lord, Tuck, you don't mean it ? Tucker. Unfortunately, I do. Crane. My dear Tuck ! Well, of course, .the boy'll Jiave to go. But how did it happen % Tucker {moving a little down h. and then up to Crane). Well, you see I — I was in tli-B kitchen . . . and do you know that boy some- how^ acquired the extraordinary idea -that I had been making love to the cook . . . Crane. Absurd ! Tucker. Naturally. Crane. A man of your .ige. Tucker. I beg your pardon ! {He is not -pleased.) And you may be interested to know that he distinctly stated that the cook was his sister. Crane {moves a little down r.). Nonsense, she can't be, she's Irish. Tucker {going up stage and looking through door up l.). Maybe she is, maybe. {Moves down to end of table.) Crane. Look here, Tuck, what the devil were you doing in the kitchen I Tucker {coming l. of Crane. Is embarrassed for a moment). Well, I — happened to be passing the door, when I heard the voices of Jane Ellen and some young man, and I'm sorry to say he was making love to her, and what is more, I think he kissed her. Crane {turning doivn r.). The lucky dog ! Tucker {severely). I don't think that's quite the proper attitude for you to take. Crane {turning to Tucker). What do you suggest ? Tucker. The girl should b»' dismissed, of course. Crane. Oh, you think so ( Tucker. Certainly I do. {Turniug down l.). Crane. I see ! {Enter Smithfield through stving doors. He moves to sink.) Craxe. Smithfield, Mr. Tucker tells me that Brinby attempted to strike him after using insulting language. By the way, Tuck, what did he call you precisely ? Tucker {after business). I believe he referred to me as an old chimpanzee. (Smitjifield laughs and busies himself at sink.) Crane {trying not to laugh). You see, Smithfield ! Smithfield {turning back to r. o/ Crane, also trying not to laugh). Yes sir, I can't se3ra to break that boy of the habit of exaggeration. 48 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. (Tucker glares at Smithfield and ivalks furiGiisly up stage to r. of the door c). Crane. You'll dismiss the boy at once. (Smithfield, in pantoinune, protests.) See tliat lie jxicks up and is off the premises in an hour. And now I want to speak to the cook. {Goes up stage to dresser.) Smithfield. Here, sir ? Crane. Certainly. Smithfield (folloivs up r.c. a little). Beg pardon, sir, but cook is lying down. Crane (having seen Jaxe through the door). Er — who did you say was lying ? Smithfield {blandly explaining). Cook, sir,- lying dowii to rest, sir. Crane. Ah, in the larder, I suppose ? Sjiithfield {as Jane Ellen enters). Beg pardon, sir — my mistake, sir. (Jane Ellen looks in saucepans and examines and stirs the contents.) Crane. That will do, Smithfield. Smithfield. Yes, sir, thank you sir. {He goes to the swing doors, hut remains in sight listening.) Tucker {coming down a few steps). Shall I stay and assist you, Burton ? Crane. No thanks. Tuck, please go. Tucker. Oh, very well, very wqW. {He starts to go.) Crane {picks up the handkerchief, looks at it). Oh, Tuck (Tucker comes hack.) Is this your handkerchief ? {Up a step to door.) Tucker {looks at it). Mine ? No ! {Sees initials in corner), E,. W. As you see those are not iiiy initials, {Exits.) (Crane exanmies the initials, and starts, controls himself, glances at Jane Ellen, and picts the handkerchief in his pocket and leans on hack of chair.) Jane {niomng to l. of tahle). Yersilf is aftlier wantin' me. Mister Crane ? Crane. Er-- yes, Jane Ellen— the fact is^- I---er- ^ {Sees Smithfield peeping through pantry door.) That will do. Smith- field. Smithfield. Yes, sir ; certainly, sir. {Exits reluctantly.) Crane. Jane Ellen, I suppose you can <,n'^^ss v.^hat I'm going to say. COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 49 Jane. The luncheon was not satisfactory, sir. Crane. It was perfect. The trouble is about what happened after luncheon. Jane. Oh, sor, an' was it my fault that Mr. Tucker would be comin' in the kitchen ? Crane. I'm not talking about that. You had a previous visitor, 1 believe. Jane (l. of table) . Yes — -yes, sor. (Crane hesitating throughout the scene.) Crane. Jane Ellen, I do not approve of young men coming into my house and kissing the cook — not — well, not strangers, anyhow. (Moves c. a little.) Jane. Yes, sor, 'tis meself quite agrees with your honour. Crane. You mean to imply, perhaps, that it was not your fault. Jane. I'm thinkin', sor, that in your class of life, sor, no gintle- man is iver kissin'a girl against her will. Crane. Ahem ! Well, he shouldn't. I don't want to seem to offer you advice . . . Jane. Faith, then, I should be pleased if ye would do that, sor ; advice is wan av the few things a gintleman may offer a girl in my position an' she accept wid a clear conscience. Crane. Ahem ! Well then, if I were you I wouldn't have a young man like that hanging around unless he intended to marry you. Jane. Sure, sor, there's no doubt av his inientions. Crane (r. of table). Then he's proposed to you ? Jane (l. of table). Almost every time he sees me till to-day. Crane. But not to-day ? Eh ? Jane. To-day, sor, faith, to-day he said he'd not wed me if I was the last woman in the world. Crane. And what did you think of that ? Jane, Sure, sor, I thought it wasn't true. Crane (turns back at r.c). Ahem ! I — I — dare say you were right. Still I can't see why you let him kiss you, if you didn't Jane (comes in front of table). If your honour pleases, 'tis not always possible to prevent. Ye see, sor, I'm not so terrible big. Crane. Ah, yes, that — now you mention it -that is true. Is the young man able to support you ? Jane. I think he is, sor. Crane. And yet you don't Jane. No, sor. Ye sec, sor, I've not the honour to love him. Crane (step or tivo to r. side of table). Do you mean that you'd rather work for your own living than marry a man you didn't love ? Jane (solemnly). Faith, sor, an' I would rather die, D 50 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. (Crane looks at her, she meets his gaze. His eyes are the first to fall A long fause.) Will that be all sor ? Crane. Yes, that's all. {Goes uj) c. to door. Turns at door and sees her watching him.) Jane. Thank ye, sir ! Crane. If that young man comes bothering round you ai^ain, just let nie know, and I'll settle hira. Jane {tossing her head). Faith, he'll not be back (Crane laughs.) (Pauses) — for a couple of days. Crane. What ! Oh I see (Jane stands still in front of table, wondering. Crane goes out c. door. SMiTiiriELD opens siving doors gradualhj, listening. Then he conies in.) Smithfield {coming down c). Say, Livy. Did Crane tell you he'd fired Charley ? Jane {coming up to him). No. Smithfield. Well he has. Jane. Paul I Smithfield {down C). That's right ! Jane. Of course, I expected it. What can we do about it ? Smithfield. I give it up. Jane. Look here, Paul, Randy Weeks slipped in a few minutes ago to say he'd got a fresh lot of servants. Smithfield. Fine for Randy ! When are they coming ? Jane. Not till Tuesday, he thought. Smithfield. Well, maybe we can keep going till then. Jane. Oh, Paul, we've just got to ! {Goes\o front of table.) Smithfield {follows to r. of table- pause). Say, Livv, what did Crane ivant v/ith you ? Jane. Nothing. Smithfield. Nothing ? Jane. Nothing much. {A pause.) Smithfield. Now see here, Livy ! I think you might tell me Jane {mischicvoushj). We— ex— had a little talk. . . . Smithfield. What about ? Jane. About kissing ! Smithfield. Kissing ! {Turns a few steps r.). Jane. Yes— kissing and lovin' an* marriage and {Slight pause.) Oh, one thing and another. . . . {Goes to stove.) Smithfield (going to r. of table). Well, good Lord ! Livy, if you're not the most exasperating. . . . Look here — did he try to make love to you, too ? You know- - ! COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 51 Jane {pich uj) copper kettle from stove). Paul, if you don't leave me alone I shall certainly throw the kettle at you. How on earth do you think I'm going to get on with my work Smithfip:lo. Gad ! I tell you one thing — you're altogether too o-ood-looking. The next sister I pick out is going to be a sight. . . . {Pause.) Oh well, if you're not going to tell. . . . Jane. I did tell you. . . . We talked about kissing. {Movmg up to top of table.) Smithfield {angry). All right, all right, keep it up ! {Sittimj chair l.c.) But it doesn't seem to me you're playing the game. Jane (moves to hack of Smithfield. She leans over the hack of his chair, and rumples his hair). Paul dear, I'll tell you some- thing, just now — I — I — can't. Oh, Paul, I feel all of a sudden kind of faint, and lonesome- (Paul pats her hand on his shoulder.) Whenever I feel like that — I just have to be kissed. . . . Smithfield {rises). Livy, Livy, Livy ! It's a good thing you didn't feel lonesome when you were talking to Crane. (Moves e. a little.) Jane. I -I did. {Moves to front of fable.) Smithfield {turns). What ? Jane. Just a little. Smithfield {takes her in his arms). There, there, sis, don't you bother ! It's all right. Why, where'd we all be if it weren't for — -- (Crane comes through c. door. Jane sees him over Smithfield's- shoulder, and starts Imck, pushing Smithfield, who turns and also sees Crane. SMitufield goes to sink and busies himself with dishes.) Crane {takes his hat from chair r. of door c). Oh, please don't- mind me, I've just come lor my hat. Jane. Faith, Mr. Crane, we were only — we were only Crane {politely). Yes ? Jane. Yes sor. Smithfield {turyiing). Yes, sor. exactly sor, if you'll allow me to say so sor. {Has plate in hand polishing.) Crane. Say what ? Smithfield. It',^ -er — it's — precisely ad Jane Ellen was saying, sir. Precisely, sir. Jane. Yes, sir. It's just like Smithfield was afbher tellin' yer honour, so it is now. Crane {politely, hut coldly). Ah, now you've expla'med it, it's. all perfectly clear. (Exits and passes the window.) (Jane goes slowly to chair r. o/t. and sits down dejectedly— Buvnibia^iAy ^2 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. puts plates hacJc on hoard, goes up c. a little — then crosses and K. of her.) Smithfield. Well, what of it ? Jane. Oh, I don't like it. Smithfield. Nothing to cry about. All he saw w^as the butler kissing the cook. That's all he can think. Jane. But I don't want him to think that, indeed I don't. Smithfield. Why not ? Why the devil shouldn't the butler iiss the cook ? It's perfectly natural, isn't it ? What's the harm ■? Jane. Oh, I suppose it's all been done before but I don't like it. I don't just seem to like it at all. (Rises and goes front of table.) Smithfield {suspiciously). But why, why, wJiy ? Now look here, Livy. . . . Jane {facing him). Well, I'm looking. Smithfield. It seems to me — that^ Jane. Well? Smithfield. I mean does that man- Jane. Yes ? Smithfield. What I mean is — — (A^). 2 hell rings.) Oh, coming — coming- — coming. ... {Exits through siving doors.) {The bell goes on ringing until exit. Jane goes out u]} l. and returns almost immediately. As she does this, a strange young man of furtive appearance cautiously opens the door dovjn l. He gives a hasty glance in the room and then enters to close the door after him. He is tall, slr/n, good looking, well dressed, ujhimsical, and evidently is on some clandestine errand. He is Tom Lefferts. After closing the door, he turns up stage rapidly to c. door and looks out 11. then turns doivn stage and looks in cupboard. But stops stark still as Jane Ellen says.) Jane. Glory be, an' who arc you ? Lefferts. Great Venus ! Jane. Same to you, sor. Lefferts (a step c). Are — are you the cook ? Jane. Shure, they call me that, sor. Lefferts. Heavens above ! I mean— heavens — on earth. . . . Jane. Well, sor ? Lefferts. Pardon my agitation, I was expecting to see the cook, but not precisely such a cook ! Jane. Very sorry I don't suit, sor. {Crosses to sink.) Lefferts. Oh you do — you do — you misunderstand me. You do ! COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 53 Jane. Asking your pardon, sor — ^biit- Lefferts. Of course you want to knovv what the devil I want in your kitchen. Jane. Something like that, sor. . . . Lefferts. ril tell you. I need your help. Jane. Ah, poor man, he's hungry ! Now a bit av cold chicken, perhaps. (Starts as if to go to the larder.) Lefferts. Cease ! — desist ! . . . (She turros hack to sitil-.) Do I look like a beggar ? Jane. Well, perhaps you don"t exactly. . . . Lefferts. And yet I am ! I've come to beg your service — - Oh yes Fm hungry, but not for food. I faint, but for assistance ! I long for co-operation. I yearn for a colleague. Jane. Ye yearn for a colleen ? Lefferts. I didn't say it, but I accept your amendment. (Moves R. a little). You will help me, won't vou ? [Cominf] hack c). Jane. Well, I-4ofi'^t know about that. Lefferts. Ah ! but already I perceive that we are kindred souls. Jane. We're notliing of the sort. W^e're total strangers. And if you don't get out av my kitchen this blessed minute {Picks up dish — ahoiit to throw same.) Lefferts. Wait — ^wait. ... I beg of you not to condemn me unheard. I am sure you have a kind heart. Xo one so lovely could possibly^ (Going toivards her R.) Jane. Wheniver they want something they tell ye that ye have a kind heart. What is it ? Lefferts. Remarkable cook ! — Oh did I mention to you that my name was Lefferts ? (Dropping a little l.) Jane. Ye did not, sor. Lefferts. Well, then, it is. Thomas Lefferts, at your service. And now, remarkable cook, there is a lady visiting in this house Jane. There is then^ — one. Lefferts. Well, one moment. (Goes l. and puts hat on chair R. of table, and. turns to Jane.) I am very anxious for her to get this letter. (Produces letter.) Jane. Oh — -'tis Mrs. Falkener ye mean ? Lefferts. Oh, my goodness ! It is not ! Jane. Oh, the other wan ? Lefferts. You'll admit there's a difference. Jane. I will that. Lefferts. I am very anxious for Miss Falkener to get this letter. Jane. Well, Mr.— er—Mr. Thomas — - M COME OITT OF THE KITCHEN. Leffeets. Left'erts. Jane. Shure there's the post office. {Vrosses to table and gets on with her cooJdng. Breaks eggs in hoivl.) Lefferts {follotvs across to n. of table). Alas, exceptional cook — alas that there should be in this world-r-peraons so unprincipled as to open, lose, destroy or otherwise interfere v/ith correspondence not their own. Yet so it is. Jane. An' that wan would do it too. ' Lefferts. She would indeed. Jane. She would. Lefferts {a slight turn). In fact she has. Jane. She has ? Lefferts (down to her again). I see you understand me already. Said I not, oh, culinary marvel, (Jane beats eggs in hoivl.) said I not, tliat we were kindred souls. You too have been in love. . . . Jane. Me ? No, not yet, sor. But I'm thinking av it. Lefferts {ivonddring if she means him). That is to say Jane. And not with you, neither. Lefferts. Oh, no, no — [moves up c. and then dotvn again to R. of table) — of course not — certainly not. Well, then, I have the honour to be — not altogether unpopular with Miss Falkenor . . . but to her mother — I am as it were the deadliest of poison. Jane. 'Tis a sort av a recommendation, sor. Lefferts. In one way — no doubt ; in a way, however, it has its inconveniences. Such for example as — clandestine excursions to foreign kitchens — I trust you follow me, celestial cook ! Jane. Shure you mean sneakin' round the back way ? (Moves to towel on the door, and wipes her hands.) Lefferts. Back way ! 'Tis a bald, unimaginative phrase, but I'm afraid I do. However, time is on the wing ; at any moment we may be interrupted (The door kUch clicks.) Jane (holds the door shut). Some one's here now. Who is it ? Just half a minute now. Who is it ? Who is it ? V/ho • (Lefferts looks round and rushes into the cupboard r. closing the d,oor after him. Jane looks round and finds him gone.) Why where is he ? Shnre the man's a sprite. {Then she opens the door and Mandy struggles in out of breath, and crosses to chair l.c.) Mandy ! ! COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 5^ Mandy [fanning herself 'with ajyron). Howdy, honey, howdy ? howdy ! Jane. What are you doing here ? Didn't 1 tell you Mandy. Yes'm. . . . Ycs'm, you certainly did. But jes' — • jes' let me get mah breaf. (Mandy sits r. of table.) Jane. Didn't I tell you not to come over here ? Mandy. You certainly did, chile. . . . Jane. Well, what I want to know is what you're doing here. Mandy. Powerful warm ! {Fanning herself with ainon.) Jane. Yes. . . . [Pours milk into bowl.) Mandy. "Taint the heat so much as it is the humility in de air. What's you doing, honey ? Jane. Making corn bread. [Stirring contents of botd.) Mandy. Is that so, honey ? Jane. Yes, Mandy. Mandy. Well, w^hat's you all got in it ? Jane. There's three eggs. Mandy. That's right ! Jane. And niilk. Mandy. Yes, honey. Jane. And I don't know how to go on. . . . Mandy. Well, maybe a little corn-meal will help some. Jane. Oh, Mandy"! (Jane gets corn-meal on table, then gets sugar from, tnantel-piece and 'puts it in bowl.) Mandy. What's that sugar for, honey ( You don't put sugar in corn -bread. Jane. Cooking for Yankees, Mammy. (Mandy laughs and carries egg shells to sink.) And how are you, Mammy ? Mandy. I'se kickin', but not very hidi. (Takes uji cloth and wipes basin.) How's you-all ? Jane. Oh, I'se goin' mammy, but grunting — honey — grunting. What are you doing here, anyway ? Don't you know I told you not to come here ? [Crossing to Mandy.) Mandy. Now you hesitate. Jane. No, I won't hesitate. Put it down. Mandy. I tell you chile, hesitate, hesitate. . . . {Puts bowl down.) Laws but you's d^ mos' pestiferous chile. Look here, honey, I'se done got somepin what Massa Randy Weeks done tole me ter give you. [Starts to fumble for letter.) Jane. Oh, bother Ptandy Weeks ! 56 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. /? /J 4-^ Mrs. FalkenePv {off stmje). Burton Fm-goiftg4e-'vrsit the kitchen, will you come with me ? J Jane. For heaven's sake, Mammy, some one's coming, scoot, scoot. Mandy. Scoot ! Why, honey, where'il I scoot ? Jane. Oh, Mainmy, I don't know, but scoot ! Here, quick, the cupboard — quick ! Crane {ojf stage). Very well if you say so ! Mrs. Falkener {off stage). Oh it's quite all right, quite all right! ^llu^^Jn^ SA. hJtC- fr ^J-i.'^c ^lIC^Lli^ {During these speeches, Jane grabs Mandy by the wrist and pulls her across stage. Opens the cupboard door. Lefferts attempts to come out — but is pushed back as Jane pushes Mandy into the cupboard and shuts the door. Jane then runs across to l. as Crane and Mrs. Falkener enter c. on Cue : " QuitG all right, quite all right.' ^) (Mrs. Falkener comes doivn c. Crane stands in doorway, and remains there.) — Crane. Mrs. Falkener insists on seeing your kitchen, Jane Ellen, may we come in 1 Jane. Shure sor, ye're as welcome as — I don't know what ! Crane. Thank you. Mrs. Falkener. Hm ! {Sniffing.) Something's burning. (Mrs. Falkener turns up her nose.) Jane. Thank you, ma'am. {Moves a saucepan further bach on stove. Ojjens oven and turns chicken.) Crane. Nice bright kitchen, isn't it ? {Going to dresser.) Mrs. Falkener {going up too). I daresay. Crane. And so clean. Mrs. Falkener. Of course, on the outside. {Runs her finger on of dresser.) Hm, Jane Ellen, do you call that clean ? Jane. 'Tis that sorry I am, ma'am, but I've hardly got me bearings round the place yet. If ye was to come in next week now Mrs. Falkener. Yes, I daresay. {Grosses to R. of stage.) Or any other time when you knew I w^as coming — {It looks as if she were going to open cupboard door — but runs her fingers along moulding, showing dust on fingers to Jane — Jane shows alarm— but she passes the cupboard and goes on to sink. Looks at piump.) Hm, no running water. Jane. Faith, ma'am, 'twas not mo that built the house, (l, of table.) {Enter Araaiini'a. She crosses quickly to r. of tabk\ speaking as she enters— front of chair.) COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 57 Arajtinta. Tin going out for a walk, clear ... if I don't, I'll explode. Jane. S-s-s-ii ! Look out ! Araminta {turns — sees Mrs. Falxener). I beg your pardon ! Mrs. Falkener. Burton — Burton ! Crane. What's tlie matter ? Mrs. Falkener. Tliat — that woman Crane. What ? Mrs. Falkener. That wonmn 15 wearing Cora's best hat ! Crane. What '^ Mrs. Falkener. This is really too much ! Even you will admit that this is too much I (r. of table.) Crane {coming doivn c). Now don't get excited. It probably isn't Cora's hat at all. Araminta's probably just copied it. Mrs. Falkener. Nonsense ! I think I know a French model when I see it ! Young woman, what do you mean by wearing my daughter's hat '• Araminta. Your daughter's hat ! Nothing of the kind. Mrs. Falkener {to Crane). This is insufferable ! To have that woman standing there in Cora's hat and then tell me I don't know the hat w^hen I see it ! Crane. Araminta, have you any explanation ? Araminta. None at all! jo^ou^.^y <^-<>-^-.c - Crane. Did Miss Falkener^say she intended to oive you the hat? Araminta. She did not! '^yi^^.-c Mrs. Falkener. The idea ! Give a housemaid a $45 hat I {Moves R.) '^ Crane. Then, Araminta, I'm afraid you must take off the hat, give it to Miss Falkener, and go and pack your things and be out of the house before dinner. {Goes up stage l.c.) (LiVY anrl Bess exchange look. Enter Smithfield ivliistling and dancimg through siving doors.) Smithfield. Beg pardon, sir. . . . Crane. Smithfield, I have dismissed Araminta. Smithfield. Dismissed ! Crane {moves to top of table). For wearing one of Miss Falkener's hats. She has it on novr. (Bess goes up c. to l. of door.) Jane (talking very fast). Oh no, sor, I can explain that. The hat was given by Mrs. Crosslet-Billington, she thinking it a trifle too young for herself, she being a lady now possibly Mrs. Falkener's age— though hardly looking 45 bv candle light, sor. Mrs. Falkener. Really ! Jane. Faith, ma'am, if I may make so bold. 'Twas the first 58 COME OUT OF THE KITCHENT. night afther ye came here ar»' Araminta had been unpacking ye, shure wasn't it in this same kitchen — she was afther telling' us— Miss Falkener has a bonnet the dead spit Crane {trying to stop Jane). Yes, yes, yes, now don't get excited 1 Jane {ivithout stopjnng). — av her own — an we wuz all advisin' her f er not to be a wearing her own till ye was off the place, so we wuz now. . . . (As she speaks she goes up to door up l.) (Outside Cora crosses the window.) Smithfield {goes down to fireplace). Just -so milady. Exactly what I was going to say. {Enter Cora quickly.) Cora {as she enters). Burton, aren't you comine; ? {A step inside door.) Crane. Mrs. Falkener, look ! {They all stare from Cora's hat to Araminta's and hack again.) Jane. Faith, I said it, the dead spit. Crane. Araminta, an apology seems to be due to you. I have great pleasure in offering it, though I must say, if you had been a little more civil the whole matter could have been cleared up at once, {Go?nes round r. of table.) Mrs. Falkener. At the same time, Bu'rtoii, I think it outrageous that a servant should wear a hat which cost 45 dollars. {Doivn r.) (Smithfield moves up stage.) (Cora moves across dowti c.) Araminta {crossing to c. facing Mrs. Falkener). Indeed ! And now I'll tell you what I think is outrageous. And that is that women like you, calling themselves ladies — should be free to brow- beat and insult servants as much as they please. (Cora a little down l.c.) Smithfield {coming forward). Araminta, be quiet ! Araminta. No, I w^on't ! No one knows what I've put up with from that old harridan. Mrs. Falkener {moving forward). Burton, stop her ! Araminta {'without stopping). And now I'm going to say w^hat I think- Crane {at r. of tahle). No, you're not ! We're all very sorry this has happened, but you really can't be allowed to talk like that. Smithfield, take her away ! Pay her off, and don't let us see her again. . . . (Smithfield tal^^es thejJrotesting Araminta off tkmuglt the swing doors.) (Crane continues apologetkally to Mrs. Falkener.) COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 59 Really, Mrs. Falkener, you can't think how sorry I am — — Mrs. Falkener (r.c). Yes, yes, no doubt, no doubt. . . . Jane. Don't be angry, ma'am. Couldn't I be afther showin' you the larder or somethin' ? Mrs. Falkener. The idea ! Cora, we'll leave this place at once. {Majestically she turns to march off and with the utmost dignity, mis- takes the cupboard door for the swiny door, and so opens the cujDhoard door. It has been pretty tight (piartcrsfor Mammy and Lefferts, so Maxdy bounces out like a rubber ball, bumping into Mrs. Falkener, who 'with a slight shriek pushes her back, and goes down stage R. Mandy emerges from the cupboard, staggers across stage and ■ Exits door doivn l. All eyes follow her till she is ivell off. Jane opens the door for Mandy to exit. Then closing it, stands leaning against portal. Then they turn to see Lefferts j^ist outside the cupboard, his hat is broken, his tie disarranged and his hair rumpled. He is pant- ing. Cora comes down to r. of Lefferts.) Crane. What is this ? What is this ? f^ OoR A {down n.). Tom Lefferts ! ! {Exclamation.) "^(K/^^ Lefferts {iveakly). Er — how do you ^2J>c^''*'^^ Mrs. Falkener {cros!}iug to v.). Burton^Jwhat i.'^he meaning of this ? (CcrA CGnics down below cupboard.) Crane. I haven't the slightest idea ! Perhaps Jane Ellen will explain ! Jane. Faith, sor, I never set eyes on either oi 'em before. {Exits through door up l.) Crane. Cora, you seem to knov/ the young man ? Cora. Er — yes. Allow me. This is Mr. Crane. Lefferts. Delighted to meet you, how arc you ? Crane. May I ask to what I owe this unexpected honour ? Lefferts. Well — er — the^ — er — that is to say- — er — well, the fact is- Mrs. Falkener {interrupting). The fact is, Burton— — Lefferts {rallying and making a fight for it). Allow me, Mrs. Falkener. {Crosses to Mrs. Falkener.) As the injured party Mrs. Falkener. The injured party ! {Crosses to Cora r.) Lefferts (c). Precisely. I appeal to you, Mr. Crane — had I or had I not the right to assume that if there was one place on earth where I would be safe from the pursuit of Mrs. Falkener — it would be in the kitchen cupboard ? Crane. Well, really, I'm not in a position to answer that. Lefferts. Of course, certainly. Any right-minded person 60 COxME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. would say as much. Well sir, secure in my confidence, I retire to my cupboard for rest and seclusion. Do I get it ? I do not. . First of all I am forced to sliare my cupboard — quite against my will — with a stout elderly female person of colour. And as if that weren't bad enough — who should burst .in upon me but Mrs. Falkener. That diddled me. It's intrusion ! Thafs what I call it. Unwar- rantable intrusion! And now, Mrs. Falkener, I should like to know what you mean by it ? {During this speech Mrs. Falkener is talking and scolding Cora, ivho is inclined to laiigh.) Mrs. Falkexer. Mr. Lefferts ! Lefferts. Why the devil can't you keep out of my cupboard ? Mrs. Falkener {crossing to Crane l.c). Burton, this wild nonsense has gone far enough 1 that man has pursued my daughter for over a year, although I have forbidden him to see her or to com- municate with her in any way. My judgment of his character is, sufficiently confirmed by this latest outrage. He calls himself a poet — what he and that colSi»©d- person were doing in that cup- board I leave for him to say. (Lefferts goes up to door c, jyrotesting.) Cora {half langhing). Oh, mother ! {She goes up and joins Lefferts near door c.) (Lefferts gives her the note he has for her.) Mrs. Falkener {ivithout stopping). And now, Burton— my daughter and I have trespassed sufficiently on your hospitality. We will return to Washington by the next train. Kindly have^the motor ready. {She starts to go, again opening the cupboard door. With an exclamation of disgust she slams it to.) Will some one be good enough to show me the way out ? Lefferts. With the greatest of pleasure, ma'am. \^ Mrs. Falkener. Cora, come with me. (Mrs. Falkener exits through suing doors.) {Off stage.) Cora ! Cora. Yes, mother, I"n\ coming. {Throiving a kiss to Lefferts she folloivs Mrs. Falkener.) (Crane and Lefferts look at each other and laugh quietly. Crane sits at corner of table.) Lefferts {comes down to Crane). I take it that things are fairly clear to you. Oh, my goodness, isn't that old woman a terror ! And I did so want a word with Cora Crane. Of course I understand, it's all clear enough. I'll do my best to square you with her. (Lefferts moving a little down r.) COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN: 61 Lefferts. Oh, it's awfully good of you, I"ni afraid it can't be done. The devil of it is, I'm practically a pauper — and- • Crane. Are you staying in the neighbourhood ? Lefferts. Oh yes, only a mile away, with the Randolphs. Crane. Well, then, come over to dinner to-night, and I'll try and make Mrs. Falkener see reason. We'll see what can be done. Lefferts {going to c). You're awfully good, but Crane. Not a bit of it. Lefferts. Well, if you're going to square me in that quarter you'll need all the time there is, so perhaps Fd better hop off. (Starts to door doivn l.) Crane {stopjnng him). No, come this way, I'll have my chauffeur take you over. Lefferts. Thanks, thanks. (Goes to door c), Crane. Oh, Mr. Lefferts (Lefferts turns.) Are you really a poet ? Lefferts. Well, sometimes I have a jingle published, but my ,real job is assistant editor of a thing called the Statistician. I merely write the jingles as an antidote. {Starts to go again — turns.) AVhat does the good book say ? " What is whispered in the closet shall be shouted from the house-tops.*' How true ! How very true ! {Exits c.) Crane {calling after liim). I'll be with you in a moment. {On Lefferts' ea^ii, Jane Ellen ei^iers fZoo;- wpi.., and stands between table and stove. For a w,oment she watches Crane, whose back is towards her, and then drops a spoon into a hoivl. The slight noise attracts Crane, loho turns. There is a slight pause.) Jane Ellen, I have a most unpleasant task to perform. {Gomes down c.) Perhaps you know when I leased this house, it was arranged with Mr. Weeks to furnish a competent staff of white servants. Now you, Jane Ellen, are a most competent cook and Smithfield's ail right, but as for the other two — well, you know how competent they are. I .shall pay you and Smithfield six weeks' wages and I shall cancel the lease and leave the house tomorrow. If the Daingerfields want their money, they can sue me for it as long as they please. {Goes up c.) Jane (very softly). Shure— shure — you don't mean that ? (Moving round to r. of table.) Crane. I do ! (Coming towards her.) Jane. Mr. Crane^ — Mr. Crane — you won't be breakin' the lease ? Shure there's no trouble at all afther once you get Mrs. Falkener out av the place. (She is coming r. of table, slowly toivards him.) Oh, Mr. Crane, please. . . . (She puts out her hands, which he instinctively tries to take and she, almost tvithout knowing, withdraws them.) 62 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. Crane. Jane Ellen — Jane Ellen, you know you're a very strange girl. Jane {in a soft vMsper). Yes, sor. Crane. Are you quite sure there's not something you want to tell me ? Jane {tvhispering). No, sor, no. . . . Crane. Because if there is — I feel sure you could trust me to- — to understand. You seem to be in some sort of trouble. And if I can — I'd like^ — oh, I'd like so very nmcli to help you. Jane. You're very kind, sor — but there's nothing you can do — (tiny jxmse) — nothing. Crane. Are you quite sure you can't tell me ? Because you see — Jane Ellen — when you look like that, it seems somehow I just have to do something about it. Jane. You're very kind, sor. Crane. Now wouldn't it make it easier if you could think of me just for a moment — not as your employer, but just as a decent chap, who'd do anything in tlie world to make you smile again. Because you know, Jane Ellen, when you smile, when you smile • (Jane is smiling.) That's it. . . . Come now, don't you think you could tell me ? {Pausr..) Jane. No, sor. Crane. Why not, Jane Ellen ? {Paw Jane. Well, sor, this is the way av it. Supposing — supposing you were in a bad fix ; supposing those you loved, your very dearest, were to be sick and in trouble ; suppose you picked out the grandest plan to save them, and then after you'd done your very best, every- thing was to go smash, well, that's the time there's nothing left to do but just to creep into your own heart and shut the door. Crane {pause). I'm sorry, Jane Ellen. I'm sorry. {Pats her hand.) (Crane exits door c. without stopping. When he is off Jane goes sloivly up stage to door c, leayis her head against the door and is evidently erying. Manj^y enters doum l., tool's to see if I.ivy is alone and then goes R. of table.) Mandy. Say, Jioney. I done found dat Why, honey chile, is yo' crying ? Jane. No, Mummy ! Mandy. Honey lamb, chile ! Nov/ don't you go spoilin" your blessed eves ! COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 6:^ Jaxe. It's nocliiir, Maiiuny, nothin* ! {Turning and coining towards Mandy.) Mandy {in front df chair l.c). I done found dat lattah that Massa Eandy Weeks done gib nie. He says it's a cable. Jane {going up to Mandy). A cable ? Mand\\ Yas'm honey. Jane {takes eahlegram, opens il — doesn't look at it). Mammy, I'm afraid ! Mandy Dere — dere — honi a verandah: The entrance from the hall is at rear, l.c. The entrance to the butler's pantrif is at R.c. This door has a screen in front of it. Just below this door, R., is a serving table ivhich stands against the r. wall. A beautiful old mahogany sideboard stands n. against the wall at r. The dining table stands at c. ,• is oval and not very large— just hig enough for four persons. There are lighted candles on the side- board. Discovered at rise of curtain Smithfield. He is just finishing setting the table. He stands at back of tabic. {Enter Brindlebury at r.c. His get-up is totalhj different- He wears a grey wig, very suspicious-lGoking grey side-ivhiskers and a suit of nondescript clothes much too big for him.) Brindlebury (poking his head around the screen). Hist ! Smithfield. Look here, Charlie, didn't I tell you to lie low ? Brindlebury [coming in around screen). Yes, but Livy says • Smithfield. I don't care what she says. Brindlebury. What ! , Smithfield. You've got to kee]i out of sight as much as possible, or it'll be all up. Brindlebury. Aw, say, Paul, they'll never suspect. Didn't I help take the old lady's truiiks downstairs right under her very nose ? Smithfield. Yes, I know, but Brindlebury [comes from screen at upper end.- of the sideboard r.). And say, just look at this. D'ye ever see a. finer limp ? [He stumps up and down r. with the walk of a man with a stiff leg.) Smithfield (c). It's a good enough limp — but your make-up's rotten — (crosses to r. neccr screen) — and your voice is worse. (Charlie exclaims.) Don't you ever get near enough for Crane to speak to you. Keep away under cover— not that it )nakcs imich dii?ercii«3e, I reckon. 64 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. fe BRmDLEBURY. Whv, wliat do you mean ? Smithfield. Oh, nothing. You'll know soon enough. {He goes out at R.c. Brindlebury goes r. Enter Craxe from the hall door l.c. He ivears evening clothes.) Crane. Oh, Smithfield. Brindlebury {hand to ear). Eh ? Crane {sees Brindlebury, who is up stage above sideboard). Here, I say — What's your name ? Brindlebury {in a thin squeaky voice). Yes, sir, I am lame. Been so ever — — Crane {stands l. and above table c, shouting). No, no, I asked your name ? Brindlebury. When I came ? Oh, this afternoon, sir. Mr. Smithfield he telephones to my wife, sir. ... He says, " Susan," he says, " Susan "... Crane {sternly). Come here ! Brindlebury. Hey ? Crane. Come here. Let me look at you. . . . {At this, Brindlebury limps sloivly to l., heloiv table c, and jumps out of the lower French ivindoiv and disapjjears.) Here ! What's the matter with you ? {He dashes out of the ivindow in pursuit.) Come here ! (Mandy enters from upper windoiv. Sees Crane and Brindlebury exit. Roars ivith laughter.) Mandy {near windmv doivn l.). For de good Lawd's sake, foot carry me fast ! I wonder what's dat ! (Laughs. Feels about for cable.) {Enter Paul r.c.) Paul {erosses to c. front of table). What are you doing here ? Mandy. Ne' mind, ne' mind; is you ail alone, honey ? Paul. Yes, Mandy, what is it ? Mandy. Marse Randy ... he done give me another one of dem cable-urns. {She gives cablegram.) He told me to fotch it right up to you all. Lordy, Massa Paul, I'sejust full o' cable-ums. Hah yo' is. {Laughs.) Paul (c, front of chair ; reads it softly. Checks her). Mandy, Mandy ! Thank God ! Mandy. About yo' paw, Marse Paul ? Paul. Yes, Mandy. Mandy. What he say ? Paul. He's out of danger, thank God ! m COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. Mandy. Ain't de Lawd good ! {Quickly.) Where my lir white baby ? {Crosses to r.c.) Paul. In the kitchen, Mandy. Mandy. Marse Paul, Miss Livy, she's worryin" her little heart out. You give me dat cable-um. {He gives it to her.) I just tote it down to dat chile. Dis mammy want her baby to get dis blessed news fast ! {Goinc/.) Oh, Massa Paul, ain't de Lawd good ? Oh, Massa Paul, ain't de Lawd good ? - {Exit door r.c.) (Smithfield moves e. to sideboard : tahes up and looJcs at cable envelope.) (Tucker e7tters door l.c.) Tucker {comes to r.c, above table). Smithfield, when will dinner be^ — ^served ? Smithfield. Oh, presently, presently. {Exit door R.c. Crane appears at window and enters.) Crane. Phew- ! Haven't run so fast since I w^as in college. Tucker (r.c). May I inquire — — ? Crane. Certainly, IVe been chasing Brinby. Tucker. Brinby ! Crane {goes up C). No less. There's his wig. {Tosses it to Tucker.) Tucker {caiches wig). Good gracious! Then — • — ■ Crane. Precisely. The aged servitor with the stiff leg — Brinby. Tucker. Good Lord ! I shouldn't be surprised if we were all murdered in our beds. Crane. Which leads us to the next step. {Takes tvig from, Tucker as he crosses to r.c) (Tucker m,oves l.) {Enter Smithfield r.c, with cigar tray.) Smithfield. ... Smithfield. Yes, sir. {Approaches Crane.) Crane. I fear your new useful man v/on't do. He seems to me a bit too ancient. Smithfield (a/ r. below Crane). Oh, sir, he's not so old as he looks. Crane. I thought not. Smithfield. Only sixty-six his next birthday. Crane. Sixty-six ? Smithfield. Or seven. COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 67 Crane. Siir|)ri.siMg. eh, Tuck ? Tucker. Very. Crane. Is he nuirried ? Smithfield. Not yet — that is — he's a widower of many years' standing. His poor wife died when her first baby was born. Crane. Her first baby ? Smitiifield. That's Mr. CrossU>tt-Billington\> present chauffeur, sir. . . . Crane. The baby t Smithfielt). Yes. sir —no, sir, that's iiovv I liappencd. . . . Crane. That's enough, Smithfield. Your aged friend is Brinby . . . . Don't atop to pack, Mr. Week^s will send your things. Cr^ out of my house at once. And if you want a testimonial I will write you one, saying that you ar(? the most competent liar of m y acquaintance. And there's a souvenir for you. {Tosses wig to Smithfield.) Smithfield {looks at the vng). Thank you, sir. {Willi a gulp.) Will that be all, sir !? {Goes' up a litthy Crane. Quite ail. Smithfield. Thank you, sir. {Takes salver ffom, sidehoard, places wig on it and. exists r.c.) Crane. Well, Tack, we seem to be shrinking. {Sits in chair R- end of table.) Tucker (l. of laMe, leans on chair l. of table end.) In the course of a long and varied experience at the bar ! Crane. Yes, yos. . . . Now, will you oblige me by telephoning Mr. Weeks to come out here at once. I think we'll end this episode immediately. Tht' ladies have left us, one in tears, the other in wrath. . . . Three out of four servants have departed, the roof '11 be falling in next. . . . Tucker {going). Ill telephone Mr. Weeks at once. . {Starts towards door l.c, stops.) Crane. Good ! T!ucKF.R (pauses). Oh, but it's nearly dinner time. Crane. Ask him to dinner, then. Tucker. Very w^ell. Burton. Crane. I asked Lelferts, too ! Tucker. That man ! Really. . . . Crane. Oh, come off. Tuck. Stop that bad imitation of your sister. Lefferts is all right, and you know it. Eun along, please. Tucker {at door l.c, turns). By the way, Burton, who's going to serve the dinner ^ Crane. Oh, that's what I'm going to sec about now. {Exit Tucker, door l.c.) (Crane rises and goes to puntrg door, slops as if going to call, bv.t r,8" COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. rings hell cord at mantel and comes down to hade of armchair r. end of the table and stands tvaiting.) (Jane airpears e.g., after a pause.) Jane Ellen, come here. (Jane is very gentle and rather ivistful, hat confident of the hindlif reception which she does not get.) (Severely.) Jane Ellen. ... Jane {stands on his R.). Oli, sor, this time faith I know what's afther niakin' ye scold. Crane {stiffly). I am not going to scold. Jane {smiling, good-naturedly). Sure, sor, an' that's a wonder ■so it is. {She gets no answer ing smile. Pauses.) Ah, novv , Misther Crane, sure an' I couldn't be afther givin' Smith- field away over that nonsense about the boy, now, cud I ? Crane. Really, I haven't considered the matter at all. Jane. Why, Misther Crane, what's come over ye ? Crane. Be good enough not to ask questions. I wish to give some orders. Jane. Orders ? {Stiffens herself and, freezes.) Indade, sor ? Crane. Two gentlemen are coming to dinner, that makes four in all, and as Smithfield is gone you will have to serve dinner as well as cook it. Jane. No, sor, certainly TU not. Crane. AVhat ? Jane. Sure, it's a cook I am and not butler at all. Crane. Jane Ellen, you will do as you arc told. Jane. I'll do no such thing, then. Crane. Jane Ellen, you will serve dinner. Jane. Misther Crane, I will not. {There is a brief pause.) Crane {crosses to l.c, front of table c). We seem to be dealing with the Eternal Problem between employed and employer. You're not lazy, the work is nothing, yet you deliberately choose to stand en your rights on a purely technical point. Jane. I'm doin' nothin' of the sort, then. Crane. I should like to know what you call it ? Jane. Sure, Fm making myself just as disagreeable as I can. (Crane annoyed.) 'Tis charmed l"d be fer to oblige a gintleman that asked me nice an' polite-like ; whin a man talks about orders an' me doin' as I'm told, aJi I got to say to that man is he'd onght to be thinkin' COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 09 av thim things bofore he'c? dismissin' me two brothers, so he'd ought. Orders ! Humph ! Crane. Two brotht>rs, cJi ? So Smithfield is your brother, too ? Jane. Well, sor, I wasn't meanin' to tell ye, but 'tis a fact. Crane. Rather unusual for an Irish girl to have English brother,^ isn't it ? Jane {after a pause). Faith, the two av tliini was raised in London from a couple av kids. Crane. Whereas you were brouglit up in Ireland ? Jane. Faith I was, then — God forgive me ! Crane. And Miss Olivia Daingerfield has known vou all her life ? Jane. Sure, shj*. was on"y wTitin' a testimonial. You know what them things is. Crane. Say, why didn't you tell nie before that Smithfield was your brother ? Jane. Faith, I can't see what difference it makes at all. Crane {now suddevdy high-spirited). W^hy, it makes all tlie differ- ence in the world. If he's your brother he's got a perfect right to • — no— I didn't mean that. {Coughs and moves to l., several steps.) Jane {moving a little to 1,.). To what ? Crane {returns to c). Ah — er — that is to say. ... I apologizt^ for everything I've said since you came in here and ask you most humbly if you won't be so kind as to help me out. ... You are going to be an angel and serve dinner, aren't you "? Jane. Didn't I say I would, if I was asked polite-like ? Crane. Thank you, thank you. Indeed, Jane Ellen. . . . (Moves up L. of table, turns, crosses.) You are an angel. Thank you, thank you ! {Exit Crane door l.c. Jane follows round to l.c.) {After a ')noment, Smithfield peeps ?'/a around screen.) Smithfield. Hist ! Jane {gets to hack of the table c. Starting : vjith a gasp). Oh, Paul ! You frightened me. Where's Bess and Charley '? Smithfield. Up in the garret, playing Cooncan. Jane. The poor dears must be starved. Tell them not to make; any noise. I'll slip up after dinner and bring you a bite, if there';^ any left. Now, quiet, all of you ! {Crosses down to chair l. of table.) Smithfield. Yes, but what are you going to do ? Jane. I told you. Smithfield. But it's no use. The game's up. Jane. All the same, I'm going to stay and see the last card played. 70 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. Smithfield. What's the good ? He's going to break the lease and get out to-morrow. I heard old Tucker telephoning to Randy to come over at once. You can't do anything. Come on. Let's all get away. Jane. No, indeed. Smithfield {goes toimrds ha). Easy ! You're not going on doing this man's w^ork ? Jane. He may change his mind. Smithfield. Livy. . . . Jane. Besides, the poor man's got to eat. Smithfield. Now, look here ! Look here, Livy, I think you — • — ■ Jane. Hah! Somebody's coming! {Drops dovm e.g. to side^ hoard.) (Smithfield hastily goes out at r.c.) (Tucker conies in from the hall door, l.c.) Tucker. Ah, Jane Ellen. . . . Jane. Good evenin', Misther Tucker. Tucker {coyning close to her). The time has come sooner than we thought when I can be of assistance to you. Jane. Yes, indade, sor. {She thrusts the carving knife and fork into his hand.) 'Tis a dale of work fer a poor gurt. Will ye kindly jmt them at Misther Crane's place ? Right over there. (Tucker, still looking at her, places knife and fork so that theg poin. towards chair l. of table, and then comes towards Jane Ellen. Oh, sor, not that way. Niver turn the point of a knife towards the chair, 'tis bad luck, sor. (Tucker, smiling nervously, readjusts the knife and fork.) (Crossing to lower end of sideboard.) Faith, 'tis a wicked bad butler you'd make, and no mistake. Tucker {looking cautiously at door, and then crossing to Jane Ellen : in a confidential tone of voice). There's something I want to say to you before any one comes in. Jane {in order to prevent his touching her, hurriedly blows out the three candles on candelabra and swings around to Tucker). Have ye a match about ye, now ? (Tucker takes a match fro'm his pocket.) Sure, you're a match for any wan, so ye are, now. Tucker {lighting the candles). I suppose you know Mr. Crane is leaving to-morrow ? Jane. Yes, sor, so I've heard. Tucker. And you are about to lose your place. Jane. Yes, sor. 'Tis the first wan I iver lost. COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. n Tucker. Then why not make it the last ? Jane. Sor ? {Keeps lighted candle between herself and Tucker.) Tucker. Why not come to me ? / could offer you a position you need never leave. Jane. Please leave me pass, sor. Tucker. But, Jane Ellen, I want to tell you (J^NE rings the silver dinner bell violently with her left hand, holding candle in right.) Jane Ellen, what are you doing ? Jane. Faith, sor, I can't be running ail over the house calling people to dinner. Tucker. But there's something I want to tell you. . . . {Enter Crane, hastily, door l.c.) Crane. Why, what's the matter ? (Tucker crosses to l. in front of table, with back to audience.) What the deuce are you doing here, Tuck ? Tucker. I — er — I was assisting Jane Ellen to set the table. (Jane Ellen laughs and exits through screen door.) Crane. The devil you were ! Tucker. You mean to say you question my word ? {Going up to door L.c.) Crane. You bet I do ! Tucker {at door). And may I ask what you think I was doing ? Crane. Well, I don't think you were picking daisies. (Tucker exits indignantly, closing door after him.) Crane {at screen). Jane Ellen ? Jane Ellen ! (Jane enters.) Jane. Yes, sor ? Crane. Was Mr. Tucker making love to 3'ou ? Jane. Well, sor, I couldn't be saying fer sure. Crane. Nonsense ! Don't you know ? Jane. Faith, then, how's a poor girl to know ? The gintlemen liave so many ways of making love. Crane. The trouble with you, Jane Ellen, is— that you are a damn sight too pretty. Jane. Aw, Mr. Crane, stop your blarney. Crane {imitating her brogue). As if every man you've known fer the last five years hadn't been saying the same thing to you. Jane {giving him a little look). Shure, sir, none of them was iver saying it quite like that, sor. 72 . COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. {She turns swiftly ami goes into the butlers paMnj. Crane laughs and watches her off. She changes to Maid's black dress. The voices of Lefferts a^id Weeks are heard in hall. Crane turns as they enter the door, l.c.) Crane. Ah, Mr. Weeks ! Mr. Lefferts ! Glad you could come at such short notice, Mr. Weeks ! Weeks {at 'mantel). Well, I'm not far away, but I couldn't have made it without the little Ford. Lefferts {near ivindow l.). Yes, you know, it's the motor car that makes country life possible. Crane. Yes, and it's the Ford that makes it probable. {Goes io the sideboard.) Lefferts. Very true, but tell me, where are the ladies ? Crane {pouring out four glasses of sherry from the decanter). Oh, didn't Tucker tell you ? Lefferts. No ! Crane. They were suddenly called away. Lefferts. Called away ? Crane. Yes, I'm sorry . . . but one of them felt that both of them must go. And one of them left a note for you. Lefferts {crossing in front of table to r.). No need to ask which one ? Crane. I think not. {Giving Lefferts a note.) Lefferts [ai c). Thank you. {Opens a letter. Moves l. a little.) Crane. By the wa}', Mr. Lefferts, as a professional statistician, you've probably heard of a periodical called the Financier ? Lefferts {putting letter in his pocket). Oh, yes. Crane. Well, I own it. Never read it, but I own it. Don't know a damn thing about it. I need an editor. Could you do it ? Lefferts (going a little up to Crane ; very surprised). I ? Crane. Yes. Present editor's leaving. He doesn't know it, but he is. Like the job ? Lefferts. Would I ? (Weeks moves back io mantel.) Crane. Give you nve thousand dollars to start with — ^if that's enoucrh. Lefferts {goes to him). Enough? By gosh! it you don t look out, I'll kiss you. But, joking apart, you don't know what this means to me. {They shake hands.) Crane. Oh, that's all right. {Enter Tucker.) (Lefferts drops down r., Crane at sideboard.) COME OUT OF IHE KITCHEN. 73 Ak, here's tli*^- gonial M'uck I Ju?!:. in time for a glass of sherry. (All come to sideboard. The men all take a glass of shernj.) Tuck, you know Mr. Lef?erts ? Tucker. I've heard of him. Leffkrts. Favoarably, I trust. Tucker. From my sister, Mrs. Falkener, sir. CuAXE. Well, here'i:4 a toast ! Here's to Cupid, the statistician ! (Lefferts a}id Weeks laugh.) Weeks. Don't know what it means, but here's to it ! {Theg all dyrmk.) Crane. Oh, ajiy toast will do, if the drink's right. Lefferts. Ah ! Now, that's something like sherry. (Weeks moves l.) Tucker (puis glass on sideboard and goes c, behind table). Very good v/ine indeed. Burton, very good. (To Weeks.) Are you fond of sherry, Mr. Weeks ? Weeks. Oh, we drink quite a lot of it down here. (During the last two speeches, Crane has shown Lefferts the handker- chief he picked up in the Second Act. As if saying, " There's going to be some fun with Weeks,") Crane. Oh, by the^ way, Mr. Weeks, this is yours, I think ? Weeks (comes to r. of table). Mine ? (Tucker goes doivn l.) Crane. Yes. R.W. Your initials, aren't they '(■ Weeks (taking handkerchief , and very rattled). Why, yes — -yes— er — er — it must be mine. (Moves l.c.) Crane. I found it in the kitchen this afternoon. (Lefferts laughs.) Tucker (looks at Weeks, then to Crane). Wliere ? Crane. In the kitchen. Tuck ! (Tucker realizes that Crane is thinking of the blackface.) Tucker. Oh. yes, yes, of course. (Goes up stage to back of table.) Weeks (moves down l., inopping neck ivith handk^erchief). Yes- AwfuUy warm for this time of year. Crane. Very. Suppose we sit down, gentlemen; Mr. Lefferts, Mr. Weeks, Tuck ! (Lefferts sits r. a,t end of the table. Weeks sits with his hack to the audience. Tucker sits back of the table, facing Weeks.) 74 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. f UCKER {taking his seat). Well, I'm ready for one. Crane. Always, Tuck, always. Lefferts {lookmg at Tucker). Oh, really T (Jane Ellen enters with soup plates. She crosses to Crane as if to put them on the table. Crane jumps from his chair, taking the soup 2)lates from the tray. He watches Jane Ellen as she exits.) Wonderfully attractive country round here, Mr. Weeks. Weeks. Glad you appreciate it, Mr. Lefferts. Is this your first visit down here ? Lefferts. Yes. I am, as you probably guessed, a Northerner, Weeks. Well, I hope tliis won't be your last visit, Mr. Lefferts (Tucker has unfolded his ■napkins and settled himself at the table during the preceding speeches. He turns to see Crane holding the soup plates, and gazing fatuously towards the butler's j)antry.) Tucker. Burton, what are you doing with the soup plates? (Crane, rather annoyed, sits down, putting soup plates in front of him.) Weeks. Where are you staying ? (Jane Ellen brings on soup tureen, takes it to Crane. He removes it fr-om tray, f lacing it on table front of him : starts to serve.) Lefferts. I'm staying with some friends, the Randolphs. Friends of yours, I believe. Weeks. Yes. Jack Randolph and I went to school together. Tucker {to Lefferts). Will you please pass me the olives ? Lefferts {passing them). Yes, I think I heard Jack speak of you. Weeks. Yes, we were at school together at Charlotteville. You're very fortunate to be here at this time of the year. Lefferts. How's that ? Weeks. This is our hunting season, you know. {Soup to Weeks.) Tucker. Will you please pass me the almonds ? (Lefferts passes them, rather annoyed.) {By this time Jane Ellen has served soup to Weeks. Weeks has not noticed that it is Jane Ellen who is serving the table. As she puts the soup plate doivn, he sees that her hand and ar^n are obviously not the hand and arm of Smithfield : His eyes follow her arm up till they come to her face. He is horrified. Jane Ellen makes a face at him and turns back to get soup for Lefferts. Passes soup to Lefferts.) Tucker {as Jane passes soup to Lefferts). Will you please pass me the salt ? COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 75 (This time Lefferts 'pasr,es Mm the salt, pepper, the butter dish, the butter htife, and anythinf/ else he can think of. Duri}ig this, Jane Ellen has given the soup to Tucker.) (Exit Jane Ellen.) (The men start to drink their soup.) (Jane Ellen re-enters almost imwMiately .) Crane. How's the soup, Tucker ? Tucker. Excellent, Burton, excellent ! Lefferts (after slight pause?}. Very soothing. Weeks (after slight pause). Just right, just right ! Crane (after slight pause). You can't beat these people down here for soup. (The 7nen finish their soup.) TueKER. Well, in my opinion, a good soup is the foundation of a good dinner. The only thing I could suggest is a little more pepper. Will you pass the pepper, please ? Lefferts. Tell me, would you like a little mustard ? (They all laugh.) (Crane signals to Jane Ellen to take the plates c^vau. She takes Weeks' plate first, then Lefferts'. As she takes Lefferts' plate, he looks up at her, and as she exits with the plates to the pantry, it is almost as if he were drawn out of his chair by her charm. He takes a feiv steps toivards the jiantry and. then turns, facing the audience, saying :) By Jove ! That must be the face that launched a thousand ships* Crane. I beg your pardon ? (Lefferts sits down hurriedly.) Tucker. No, it's the cook. And you've seen her before, too " (They all look at Jane and smile, watching her exit.) (Jane noiv takes the other two soup plates to Crane and Tucker.) Lefferts. Oh, yes, rather a lovely little person, don't you think so? Tucker (in a very superior manner). Well, I have never been able to take much interest in the personal appearance of servants. Crane. Really, Tuck ! Tucker. Er— pass me the bread, please. (Crane passes him the bread.) Lefferts. I say beauty is beauty, wherever you find it. (Jane Ellen brings in a plate of corn bread, places it c. of table in front of Lefferts, and takes tureen off.) 76 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. Tucker. Sucli preoccupation with beauty has always struck me as decadent. Lefferts. And what exactly, Mr. Tucker, is your definition of decadent ? Tucker. Decadent is {He hesitates.) Decadent is — er — — • Lefferts. Yes, Mr. Tucker ? Tucker. Well, decadent is — er Lefferts. Yes ? Tucker. Well, it's simple enough, I should think. Decadent is — er Crane. Yes, Tuck, what is it ? Tucker. Will you please pass me the almonds ? Lefferts. A very comprehensive definition. Tucker. During a long and a varied experience at the bar ■ (Jane Ellen has entered, and noiv places the roast chichen and plates before Crane ; then goes with vegetables on tray to serving table.) Lefferts. Anyhow, the soup was delicious. Crane. Mr. Lefferts has been praising your soup, Jane Ellen. Jane. Thank you, sor. Weeks. Look here, what I should like to ask is, what has become of Smithfield ? Crane {carving the chicl-en). Smithfield ? Oh, Smithfield is indisposed. Weeks. You mean — he's sick ? {ChicJcen to Weeks.) Crane. No, I'm sick. Sick of him. I've discharged him, also the boy Brinbv, and the housemaid, Araminta. Weeks. What ! Crane. Yes, Mr. Weeks. {During this scene Jane hamls the plates to the three 'men, Weeks, Lefferts ayid Tucker. Chicken to Lefferts.) Weeks. Do you mean to tell me that you and Mr. Tucker and the cook are alone in this house ? Crane. I regret to say that Mr. Tucker also leaves me this evening. {Chicken to Tucker.) Weeks. Oh — but— but — Mr. Crane — — (Jane goes to serving table for vegetables.) Crane. Oh, some other time, Mr. Weeks, not now, a little later. After dinner. For the present, let's enjoy ourselves. COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 77 Tucker. Yes, yes, yes, by all means, let's enjoy ourselves. Where's the butter ? {He discovers butter where Lefferts placed it. Jane hands vege- tables to Lefferts.) Weeks. But what I should like to ask is — er — that is^ — you can't mean to— you don't intend to^ Crane. I won't trouble you with my particular plans. My experience, Mr. Weeks, has been that nobody cares anything about anybody else's trifling little plans — their small domestic compli- cations— (Jane hands vegetables to Weeks.) Lefferts. Oh, come, now, I'm not so sure. It strikes me Mr- Weeks is very much interested, aren't you ? Weeks. Yes, yes, I am — extremely — er- — sincerely. . . . You see, I know what would be thought in a community like this — what. Avould be said. . . . You — er — you get my idea ? (Jane hands vegetables to Crane.) Crane. Not exactly. And what is more — what people think is a matter of small consequence to me. Weeks. Yes, yes, as a rule, of course. But in this case, I'm sure you'll agree with me if I can only j| Crane. Doubtless, but what is it exactly that you do mean ? (Jane serves vegetables to Tucker.) Lefferts. It's perfectly clear. Mr. Weeks means that in such a small community as this, if a young woman should find herself in a position, considered compromising by all the most prominent novelists and dramatists, she would^ — ■ — (Tucker helps himself to both vegetables. As Jane Ellen raises the tray, she deliberately rubs the hot dish against Tucker's ear. This business may cmne anytvhere during Lefferts' speech, and the instant 'Tjjckf.r jumps in his chair, Lefferts stops speaking.) Tucker {jumping to his feet). Ouch ! What the devil are you doing ? Jane. Oh, sor, I'm terrible sorry. Tucker. Sorry ! Jane. But I'm not used to waiting on the table. . . . {Puts vegetables dotvn and gets bottle of claret and crosses.) Crane. Tuck ! tuck ! It's all right, Jane Ellen. . . . Don't give it another thought. . . . Mr. Tucker has forgotten it already, haven't you, Tuck ? Tucker. Oh, yes, yes, of course. (Jane is back again by now at r. of Crane.) 78 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. I hardly noticed it, anyhow. {Sits down again.) Jane. Oh, sor, how kind you are to me. (Wine to Crane. Lefferts laughs.) Lefferts. What a line old house this i.^. I should so like to know its history. (Jane pours ■wine for Weeks and then for Lefferts.) Tucker. Well, sir, it belongs — as you ])erhaps know — to a family named Daingertield, who held a highly honoured place in the history of this country, until they unfortunately espoused the wrong side in the C'ivii War. (Jane is going to jfour wine for Tucker ; just as a few drops are in his glass, he has said, " t~he ivrong side of the Civil War," Jane indignantly stops pouring urine, and moves towards pantry door.) Burton, she has omitted me. Crane. Jane Ellen, you have forgotten Mr. Tucker. Jane. Oh, yes, sor. {She comes hack and just half fills Tucker's glass and exits.) Weeks. In this part of the country, Mr. Tucker, we are not accustomed to thinking it the wrong side. Tucker. I believe that I am voicing the verdict of history. Crane. CTcntlemen — {In order to stop the quarrel : raising glass.) Gentlemen, I am very pleased to see you all here. {All drink.) Lefferts. Anyhow, the present g*meration of Daingerfields seem to be an amusing lot. Kandolph was speaking about them only last night. (Jane enters and goes to serving lahle.) He said one of the girls is particularly enchanting. He told me her name, too. Let me see, what was it ? 8uch a pretty name ! Oh, yes — Olivia ! Jane. Yes, sor ? Crane. No one spoke to you, Jane Ellen. Jane. No, sor. {She offers vegetables to Lefferts.) Lefferts. Randolph says she was a wholesale fascinator. {To Jane Ellen.) No, thank you. No, thank you. {He laughs.) Engaged to three men at one time, last summer. (Jane iaJces vegetables io Tucker. He does not look at her. He helps himself to both vegetables.) Weeks. Mr. Lefferts. Vd be obliged to you, sir, if you'd tel' Mr. Randolph, with ray compliments, that that's not true. COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 79 Lefferts. Oh, isn't it ? Well, Tin sorry. (Jane hands vecjetahles U> Crane, ivho refuses.) Weeks. Oh, T don't blanu' you. You're a stranger here. But I do bhxme him, for circulating this groundless gossip about one of the loveliest young ladies in this State. Jane {offering Ttyetahles). Oh, potatoes, sir. (WeeKvS and Jane exchanr/e a bitter (fiance.) Weeks. Thank you, no ! (Jane Ellen rjoes to sideboard : puts vefjetahles on. tray, and takes them off.) Lefferts. Well, you know. I thought it all rather to the lady's credit. Especially in a neigh hour ho^jd where it must be rather dull, if you don't care for hunting. Weeks. That's not the point. The point is that it's not true. Lefferts. As you say, sir, just as you say ! Weeks. Miss Oliyia Daingerfield is one of the most admired and respected young ladies in Virginia. I may say, in the entire Soutli. Jane Ellen Jias returned an.d takes Lefferts^ and Weeks' plates)^ I have known her and her family since they were children. Since she was a child ! And 1 should certainly have known if anything of the kind had been the case. (Jane Ellen takes Crane's plate.) Lefferts. Do you know, I think Mr. Weeks is right, because frankly, I've never heard of a girl announcing more than one engage- ment at a time. Though, once or twice I have known of girls who {During Lefferts' speech, as Jane Ellen passes behind Tucker, he drops his napkin ; while he stoops to pick it up, she takes his plate aivay. When he discovers the loss of his dinner, it is the last straw. He looks first at the table, wonders where his dinner has gone, then looks after Jane Ellen as she exits, partly with anger and partly with pathos.) Tucker {exclaims). Burton, my dinner ! Crane. Yes, most of us have. Excuse me. . . . {Risi7ig and picking up the chicken.) Will you excuse me '\ She is not quite used to waiting at table, {He carries the chicken towards the pantry door, and meets Jank Ellen. She has the ice-cream, bowl. She puts down the bowl on side-table and takes the platter from Crane. You can just hear 80 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. tnunnurs from Crane, " Oli, you are doing splendidly, excellently, etc.") You're getting on splendidly. {Coming back and taking Ms seat.) Pardon me, Mr. Lefferts, I interrupted you. We were speaking of Lefferts. Oh, no, it was nothing. I was merely talking non- sense. Do you know — ^I think Mr. Weeks might tell us what this Southern beauty looks like. Tucker. Oh, yes, yes, do ! Weeks. I can't think this is the time or place for retailing the charms of a young lady, as if it were a slave market. (Jaxe Ellex, handing ice cream howl to Weeks.) Jane. Ice cream, sor ? Weeks {helping himself). Thank you. Lefferts. It does not seem to me that I have spoken disrespect- fully of the lady. Tucker. Certainly not, sir, certainly not. (Jane hands ice cream, to Lefferts, who helps himself.)^ Crane. Of course not. It seems to me, Mr. Wec^ks, if you'U pardon my saying so — that you couldn't be any more touchy about it, if you yourself had been one of the young lady's simultaneous fiances. (Jane turns slightly up c, laughing.) (Tucker has been looking tvith admiring eyes dt the ice cream, and when Lefferts has helped him.se]f, he naturally thinks he tvill be served next, and. turns, almost puUing his hand out to take the spoon, when Jane Ellen deliberately passes him and, goes to Crane.) Weeks. Nothing of the sort, sir, nothing of the sort. Crane. Of course not, nobody says you were. Still I see no reason why you shouldn't give us a hunt — {he is helping himself to ice cream and here looks, at Jane Ellen) — as to whether the young lady is blonde or brunette, tall or short. Weeks {looking at Jane Ellen, who is now crossing behind Crane to Tucker). Perhaps I see at least one reason that you do not, (Tucker helps himself to ice cream.,) Crane. Perhaps. Well, I'll tell 3;'oii. Jane Ellen is well acquainted with Miss Daingerlicld. . . . (Jane Ellen takes ice oream off.) Weeks. Oh, no, no ! Crane. What ! Have you forgotten the exciellent testimonial the lady gave our cook ? COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 81 Weeks. Eh ? Crane. You were prescRt, I think, when Mrs. Falkencr read it aloud. Weeks. Oh— oli — yes, yes — certainly. (Jane Ellen enters and goes to sideboard.) Crane. Jane Ellen, you've often seen Miss Olivia Daingerfield ? Jane. Yes, sor, now an' then. Crane. Tell us, what is she like ? Jane {coming a little forward). AVell, sor, 'tis not for the loikes of me to say a word again a young lady that Mr. Weeks admires so mucli. (Weeks ^icA-5 his napkin warningly below table at Jane. Lefferts round on chair. Business vnth Jane during her speech.) Ail the same — I got me own reasons for thinking there was more in thim yarns about her bcin' numerously engaged than what Mr. Weeks appears to be thinkin'. Servants picks up a good deal, sor. An' they do say that Miss Daingerfield, she Weeks {bursting out). Olivia ! Jane. Yes, sor. Miss Olivia Daingerfield. There bein' two of them. Miss Olivia, and Miss Elizabeth, an' as fcr looks, now^ — well, she is a sort of a — tall, white lily of a woman. A little taller than yourself. Crane. AVith yellow hair, I sup])ose. Jane. Indade, hair the colour of corn, rippling to her knees. Crane. Like a Greek goddess. I can see her before me now. Jake. What's that, sir ? Crane. In my mind's eye, Jane Ellen. 1 see her like a goddess, imperial and cold. Jane. Oh, yes, sir, a perfect goddess, except for a bit of a cast in one eye. (Lefferts laughs.) Y/eeks. Nothing of the sort. Nothing of the sort. Jane. Well, sor, of course, it was only a little teeny one — you couldn't be seein' it at all, unless you was very close to the young lady. Maybe that's why Mr. Weeks was never afther seein' it. Weeks. Nothing of the sort. Jane. An' she had a terrible dignified way v*^id her. Oh, terrible dignified. She'd make you shake in your shoes, so she would. {She turns to get cigar tray from , sideboard.) Crane. Jane Ellen, we're very much obliged to you. It was perfect. I feel almost as if Miss Olivia Daingerfield were standing here this moment before me. Jane {fjjith cigar tray in h^r hand). Faith, sir, if she yv\^s, wouldn't F 82 CmiE OUT OF THE KITCHEN. it be you that would be standin' ? {Places tray on table in front of Lefferts, then hack to sidehoard and blows candles out.) Crane {rising). For my part, I had imagined her quite different. I had supposed her, for instance, of medium height, roguish and piquante, with dark hair and eyes, and a mouth (Jane exits hurriedly into pantry.) Weeks. Mr. Crane, I regret to say, that if this conversation continues to deal disrespectfully with the appearance of a young lady for w^hom ■ {He rises angrily.) (Jane Ellen re-enters from 2^anlry with coffee service.) Crane. Disrespectfully, nonsense ! Now, I leave it to you' gentlemen, whether anything disrespectful has been said of Jane Ellen's old employer. TjFFFERTS ^ Tucker I {murmur). No, no, certainly not ! Of course not etc. (Crane sits.) Weeks. I apologize, Mr. Crane. {Sits down.) Crane. Well, have some coffee. {Jane Ellen serves coffee. Serving in following order : LEFFEkTS, Weeks, Crane and Tucker. As she puts down Tucker's cup, she also puts sugar bowl down. As Tucker puts out his hand to take sugar, she pushes it to Lefferts. The men take cigars and cigarettes. Jane exits into panto^y. The men now settle ilownr to smoke. Leaning hack in their chairs, taking the cue from Crane, all expel a cloud of smoke from their mouths at the same moment. There is a slight pause.) Lefferts {witfi a happy sigh, lights cigarette. Pauses. With a long puff.) Ah ! Tucker. These are very good cigars, Burton. Crane. Glad you like them, Tuck. (Tucker has helped himself to sugar, and places sugar bowl on his l. /or Crane. He then takes his coffee as Crane picks up bowl and offers it to Weeks.) Tucker. Just a minute, Burton, just a minute, I want another piece. Lefferts. That chicken w^as delicious. And those sweet potatoes. Southern style. . . . Mmmm ! Mmmmm ! Can't get 'em up North. Crane. Mr. Weeks, you've eaten nothing. Weeks. No. I— I wasn't hungry. Lefferts. Late luncheon, Mr. Weeks ? eOME OPT OF THE KITCHEN. 8.1 Weeks. Yes, ratlier ! Lefferts. Nothing the matter with your appetite, Mr. Tucker. (Tucker hurriedhj -places coffee down andjerhs his chair angrily hack.) Crane. No, Tuck, in ail the excitement I believe you never missed a stroke. Lefferts {to Tucker). You are a friend of the kitchen. Tucker. Possibly. How do you like our kitchen, yourself ? (Lefferts i.^ a little hit jarred at this.) Crane {coming to the rescue of Lefferts). How did you like it. Tuck ? (Tucker coughs.) Crane {to Weeks). Nice kitchen, isn't it, Mr. Weeks ? (Weeks is just drinJcing coffee, and some goes the wrong way.) (Jane Ellen enters, goes to the sidehoard.) Weeks. Oh, the kitchen's all right, I reckon ! Crane {rising, as he sees Jane enter). Gentlemen ! Stand I (They all rise, glasses in hand.) To the kitchen ! All. To the kitchen ! (They drink and sit.) (Jane exits into pantry.) Lefferts. By the way, where are all these Daingerfields, any- how ? Crane. I understood Mr. Weeks to say the Colonel and Mrs. Daingerfield were abroad. (Jane re-enters and goes to sideboard. Puts liqueur glasses on small tray. She is going out, hut lingers to hear what Weeks says.) Crane. The Colonel is quite ill, I believe, or am I wrong ? Weeks. Yes, that's quite true. Crane. Not seriously, I hope *? Weeks. Unfortunately, yes. He has just undergone a serioua operation. (Crane watche.^ Jane during speech.) In the absence of the family, I. as their agent, receive their tele- grams and mail. Just before I came here this evening, there w^as a cable to sav that the dear old Colonel was out of danger. Crane. ' Oh, I'm so glad. (Looking at Jane, until she exiis:) [Exit Jane into pantry again.) «4 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. No doubt you forwarded the good news to the children ? Weeks. Oh yes, yes, I have. Lefferts. And where are they, did you say ? Crane. Yes, Mr. Weeks, where are they ? Weeks. I regret — I'm not at liberty to say. Lefferts. Oh, Fm very sorry. I wouldn't have asked you for the world. Weeks. And what is more, Mr. Crane, I am afraid I am very much pressed for time. I understood Mr. Tucker to say over the 'phone, that you wished to see me on business^ — so, if Crane (rises). Certainly, of course. ... I say, I say, Lefferts, would you and Tucker mind finishing your cigars in the drawing room ? {Going up to door l.c.) Lefferts {rising). Of course not. Tucker (rising). With pleasure. Burton. (Weeks moves e. Stands front of sideboard.) Crane (stands r. of door. Going to door and opening it). You don't mind, do you ? (Tucker crosses to l. of Crane.) You and Tucker have so much iii comnio}i. KitcJu ns and things. eh, Tuck ? Tucker. Possibly— possibly — but I understand that Mr. Lefferts specializes in cupboards. {He goes out with an air of dignified irium.ph.) Crane (to Lefferts, ivJio has now crossed to where Tucker ivas)- Hate to bother you, but I shan't be long. Lefferts. Fairy godfather, be just as long as you like. Be- sides, I've a letter to read. (He produces letter from his pocket.) By the way, you said five thousand dollars a year, didn't you ? Crane. Yes. Didn't you understand me ? IjEfferts. Oil, yes . . . but I love to hear you say it. (Exit Lefferts.) Crane (waves Weeks to chair r.). Please sit down, Mr. Weeks. {Closing door, sits in his own chair, facing audience.) Mr. Weeks, I rshali leave this place to-morrow. Weeks. What ? Crane. I have decided to break the lease. Weeks. Break the lease ? Crane. Exactly. Weeks. On what grounds ? W^hat do you mean ? Crane. The lease stipulated that you were to provide a staff of competent white servants, and you are my witiiess that to-night I have nobody left but the cook. COMK Ori^ OF THE KITCHEX. 85 Weeks. Oh, como, now. We only agreed to provide the ser- vants. We could not guarantee that you woald not dismiss them. Crane. And why did I dismiss them ? I'll tell you. . . . The housemaid, for calling one of my guests an old harridan to her face. Mind you — I could have overlooked it if it had been behind her back. The boy, for attempting to assault another guest, and the butler for re-introducing this same violent boy into the house dis- guised as an old man. I really ought to have them all arrested. . . . {Move from AVeeks.) I rather think I will. Weeks, Mr. Crani\ I hope — I hope you don't ]nean that. Crane. I shouldn't like to feel I had allowed a dangerous gang to be turned loose on the countryside. Weeks. I give you my word they arc not that. I know all about them. Crane. None the less, there is a good deal to be explained. For example, how comes it that you are, I will not say a welcome, but at least an assured and certainly a surreptitious visitor to my kitchen ? Weeks {rises, miieJi emharrasscd. Moves round ahore chair). I do not feel called upon to explain my conduct* to any one. Crane. You refuse to answer ? Weeks. I do. Crane. Upon statutory grounds ? Weeks. What do you mean, sir ? Crane. Upon the ground that to answer might tend to incrim- inate or degrade you. Weeks {angrilij). No, sir. Certainly not, sir. And if you think you can Crane. Tut, tut. Another thing I I should like to ask you how an Irish girl like Jane Ellen can be a full sister to a ])air of more or less Englishmen, like Smithfield and Brinby ? Weeks. Nonsense ! Crane. Yet that is the case. Weeks. Who said so l Crane {quotimj Weeks). One of the most admired and respected young ladies in Virginia — I may say, in the entire South. Weeks. What's her name ? Crane (rises). That, my dear sir, is what I want you to tell me. (Comes round back of table.) Well, sir, what have you to say '( Weeks. Nothing. Crane. Do you deny that Brinby and Smithfield and Jant3 Ellen are brothers and sister ? Weeks. I — I don't see what that has to do with it. Crane. You don't deny it. Weeks. No — ah— and I don't affirm it. 86 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. Crane. And you don't explain it ? Weeks. No ! (Moves to l. end of table.) Craxe (moves to r.c, behind table). And for ail I know, Araminta is — by Jove . . . ! Jane Ellen ! {Enter Jane Ellex, frotti pantry.) Jane Ellen ! Come here, please. Jane Ellen, is Araminta your hister ? (Jane hesitates, glances at Weeks, ivho makes sign of caution to her> then bach to Crane.) Jane. Well, sor, ye see, I feel a;^ if she was — we've been that long together, sor^ — an' she always so swate and obligin' to me an' everythin' the like o' that, an* oh, sor, ye'U be cxcusin' me jist the half av a minute, sor. I got some apples bakin' in the shtove. . . . (She bolts from the room.) Crane (comes doivn r. of table, looks at Weeks a moment). There are four Daingerfield children, I think you said ? Weeks. Yes, four. Crane. Two boys and twc girls ? Weeks. Yes. ' Crane (a pause). Mr. Weeks, have you the assurance to stand there and tell me, as a Southern gentleman, that you think I have been treated down here with all the consideration I deserve ? Weeks. I think, on my honour, sir, that you have been treated with unpaTalleled distinction, sir. •Crane. Well, I have lived in one continuous three-day riot, if that's what you mean. Have you anything to say ? Weeks. No, sir— nothing. Crane. In that case, no more have I, except — g'ood evening. Weeks (moves up). Good evening. Crane (moves to mantel c). I ^ihall break the lease. If you and the Daingerfields feel yourselves aggrieved, you have my permission to sue. Weeks. But — but — my dear sir, if — if you only knew — — ■ Crane. Perhaps. But I don't . . . and you won't tell me. Weeks. I— I— oh ! I can't ! I can't, and that\s the truth ! Crane. Then, good evening, Mr. Weeks. (Weeks exits door l.c, but returns at once.) Weeks (up to Crane). Ah — h, one more thing— it's about you and^ — and Jane Ellen— staying here all alone. Crane. Oh, yes, you're concerned about the cook's reputation. Weeks. Ye'es, I— I am, sir. Crane. Really, Mr. Weeks, don't you thick this is carrying SoutJiern chivalry rather far ? COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 87 Weeks. No, vsir, I don't t Crane {ringinc/ the hell). Very well, we'll let the cook decide for lierself . If she likes, she can go and stay the night with my chauf- feur's wife. Weeks {scandalized at this, too). Mr. Crane ! Crane. Dear me ! Mr. Weeks, you seem very hard to please. {Enter Jane Ellen from pantri/.) Oh, Jane Ellen, in a little while you and I are to be the only persons left under this roof. This idea strikes Mr. Weeks as undesirable. How do yoti feel about it ? Jane. Me, sor ? Crane. Would you like to go and sleep with my chauffeur's wife ? Jane. Faith, sor, an' I don't think I would. Sure, I'm much obliged to Misther Weeks, but I'm not afraid. Weeks. But think — think what will people say ? Jane. Faith, Mr. Weeks, they'll know nothin' at all about it, av you was to hould ye're tongue. {Goes to sideboard.) Crane. You see, Mr. Weeks. Anything else ? Weeks {alinost jnirple with indignation). I — I shall go at once and find her brothers. {Going.) Crane {with a cry). Ah ! then you do admit it ! Weeks. Admit what ? Crane. That they are her brothers. Weeks {shouting a mixture of rage and grief). No, I don't ! {With this, he rushes from the room, closing door l.c. after him.) Crane {after a pause ; going down stage l.). Please sit down, Jane Ellen. Jane. Thank ye, sor, but I'd rather be standin'. Crane. Just as you please. Jane, I shall be leaving directly after breakfast. Jane. What, sor ? Crane {moves to c, front of table). I have told Mr. Weeks that I've decided to break the lease. Jane. Sure, ye could get more servants in a day or two. Misther Weeks was goin' to do that, anyway. An' I'd be stayin' on till ye could Crane. It isn't that— so much, Jane Ellen. The thing's not turned out as I had — er — expected. My guests have all left me — i-n various stages of anger^ — and, well, my holiday's spoiled. I shall go. Jane. Sure, 'twill be cruel bad news for— for the young Dai^ge^- fields, I'm thinkin'. 88 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. Crane. I daresay they won't mind my going. Jane. Ah, sor — -'tis worse than that — -far worse. They'd never have been rentin' the old place if they hadn't been near starvin'. Crane {kneels on chair). You're very much attached to them, eh, Jane Ellen ? Jane. Ye might say that, sor. Crane. Especially to the old Colonel, eh ? Jane. Yes, sor. Crane. But the tall, dignified goddess, Olivia -you don"t care much for her ? Jane. Well, sor, if the truth was known, she's got her points. Crane. But you couldn't stand the woman any longer, could you? Jane. What's that, sor ? Crane. You were tired of seeing her around the place. Didn't you say so ? Jane. Oh, well, faith I didn't care what I was sayin' to that — ■ old — to that Mrs. Falkener, beggin' your pardon, sor. Crane. Jane Ellen, something was said at diniKT that distressed me deeply. Jane. Who was it said it, sor ? Crane. You. Jane. Me, sor • Crane. I .was sorry to hear that you believed in Miss Olivia's triple engagement. Jane. What is it to vou, when ve're not aither knowin' her at all? Crane. Oh, yes, I know her. Jane {after a pause). Well, sor, I'm sorry I said anything about a friend av yours, sor. I was supposin' she was quite a shtranger to ye. {Drops her eyes.) Crane. I v/onder if I shall ever really know her. At times she seems very near, as near as you are to me — ^and again, suddenly, like a sprite, she dances far awav. Whv does she do thut, Jane Ellen ? Jane. Belike, sor, belike, "tis only her way. Crane. I was afraid that perhaps it was because she didn t trust me. Do you think it could be that, Jane Ellen ? {Harhd husiiiess.) Jane Ellen, I love her. {Kneels on chair c. towards her as he catches her left hand. A jmuse.) Will you tell her when you see her ? Jane. You must take a poor girl's advice an' don't be hasty. Indade, she's a good bit av a minx. {Pause.) Are ye quite sure now ? . . . Crane. Yes, yes. She's the most adorable thing I ever saw, and if she will not love me — ■ — Jane {after a little pause) . Faith, your honour, an' what- -COMK OUT Oh' THE KITCHEN. 89 (Crane drojis hand.) —if she will not love you ? Crane. Jane Ellen, v^cre you ever abroad in the early morning in the springtime- -just before the sun had risen ? Jane. Faith, then, I was. Crane. Well, then, you may refiiember that the trees, fche flowers, the grass, the water, the sky — ail the earth — seemed waiting, hushed, with its fingers on its lips — waiting — for the dawn. All my life's been like that, Jane Ellen, v/aifcing, watching for the loveliest, the sweetest thing to happen. And now — now, when it's so near— - - Jane {after a pause). Sure. 'Tis very deep — an' chilly at that hour o' the morning. Crane {turns down l. a little. In despair). Ah, you're making fun of me. Jane. Not me, your honour. Faith, 'tis not mesilf cud iver be that bould. Crane. Jane Ellen, in a little while, w^hen I pass through that door, it may be for the last time, and though I may never see her unforgettable face, or hear her Messed voice again, all that I am and hope for is hers. And though her heart may never turn to me I still shall bless her name, because it is so wonderful to know that anything so lovely as herself can be. And that's my last message to her, Jane Ellen. Do you think you can remember to tell her that? Jane. Sure, then. Hi try — only — only she's that conceited there'll be no livin' wid her at all, at all. Crane. But you must tell her just the same. You will. Jane. Faith, then, I will. Crane. Thank you. (He takes her right hand with both of his, She lets him take her hand. Suddenly he lifts it to his lips, then lowers her hand and turns to go.) And now, good-bye, Jane Ellen, good-bye. {She pulls kim back to original position.) Jane Ellen ! Jane. Did you realty like my cooking ? Crane. Olivia ! {They embrace.} CUI-CTALN". ,90 COME OUT OF T^TS KIT■C•HlI^r. ACT I Three framed pictures (2 still life, 1 portrait). One bell pull fastening. One tapestry hell pull, brass end pieces. Two brass curtain rods (12 rings on each). Four brackets supports for same. Two pairs of grey curtains. Large Axminster carpet (fawn). Two Axminster rugs. One Persian rug (browTi). One large blue and white vase. One mahogany bracket clock. One large painted satinwood settee. Four small painted satinwood chairs. Two arm painted satinwood chairs. One Chesterfield. One half-circle painted satinwood table. One round painted satinwood table. Three cushions (2 tapestry, 1 black satin). One gilt French clock. One Adam brass and iron fire grate. One painted and inlaid satinwood writing desk. Two coffee cups and saucers. Two coffee spoons. Electro-plated spirit la^mp. Small silver cigarette box. Coffee. Matches. Cigars. Cigarettes. Letter (with cheque). • Letter (reference). Two small ash trays. One French footstool. One circular gilt mirror with eagle. One brass fender. One set brass fire-irons. One embroidery fire screen. Two blue and white china bowls. Two blue and white china vases (straight). Three blue and white china vases with lids (1 not used). Artificial roses. Artificial chrysanthemums. American magazines. Miniature in oval gilt frame on table L.c. Bag of golf clubs by door. Attache case. Strap. Books. Blotting pad. Pen-tra3\ Ink pot. Pens. Handbag x^-ith initials O.D. Duster. ^ Motor horn (Klaxon). Door knocker. Small round salver. 91 92 COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN, ACT II AVhite stone sink, with plug on brass chain and waste pipe. Stand for sink. Draining board with hinged trestle. Iron pump (secured with bolts to ;) Board backing for pump with bolts to secure to flat .Shelf with attached brackets (pin hinges to cupboard backing). Six bells with pendulums on board ; three bells wired, clips to attach whole to, flat. Green blind to window, clips to attach. Two small rush-seated arm chairs. Kitchen table covered American cloth. Dresser with shelves. Small kitchen table. Pot rack vvdth hooks, clips to attach to flat. Kitchen range. Towel roller and supports. Clip to attach to door. Small flour barrel on dresser. Coal scuttle. Ice cream freezer. Picture in frame (Geo. Washington). Two roller towels. Scrubbing brush. Dish mop. Iron cauldron. Dustpan. Hand brush. Two brooms. Mop. Bannister brush." Seven tins (provisions). Enamel tray. Plates to break. Broken plate. Six dishcloths. Box containing boot-brush, pair of boots Two Willow pattern dishes on dresser. Twelve Willow pattern plates on dresser. Three jugs. One enamel mug. Two large bowls. Two basins. Tin of baking powder. Sieve. Packet of quaker oats. Ironing board. Two copper saucepans with lids. Two small frjang pans (copper). 93 .94 Two large frying pans (copper). Five baking pans. Grid iron. Five wooden spoons. Kitchen clock. Iron holder. Pepper pot. Salt shaker. Sugar dredger. Kettle (large iron). Flat iron. Potato knife. Kitchen knife. Kitchen fork. Plate. Jam pot. Stone bottle. Nutmeg grater. Three white cups. White bowl. Blue and white cup. Two lace collars. Chicken. Blue, white and gilt dish. Two enamel boWls. Blue and white jug. Tin bowl. Grease. Flour. Cornmeal. Doughnuts. Butter. Treacle. Sherry. Nutmeg. Parsley. Eggs. ' Milk. Handkerchiefs. Letter. Cablegram. COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 95 ACT III Oval dining table. 8ix small chairs. Persian rug. Large Sheraton sideboard. Mahogany serving table. Mahogany firescreen. Two mahogany knife boxes. Square Turkey carpet. Butter tray stand. Green folding screen. Oak fender. Steel fireirons set with stand. Bell pull fixing. Printed linen bell pull, brass ends. Bronze and marble clock. Two bronze and marble ornaments. Half round mahogany side table for bctv/een v/inJows. Two pairs brackets for curtain rods. Two curtain rods and rings doubled Iroir? Act I.. Two pairs green silk brocade curtains. Large blue and Avhite vase. White table cloths. Table napkins. Two three-armed candelabra. Carving knife and fork. Dinner bell. Set of six dish mats. Two wine decanters. Four sherry glasses. Four large wine glasses. Small plated salver doubled from Act I. Two plated forks. Seven plated table spoons. One plated soup ladle. Four plated tea spoons. Four plated coffee spoons. Four large knives. Four small knives. Blue and white flower boAvl doubled fio:m Act t Artificial roses. Plates, bread basket. Two glass salt cellars. Two plated salt spoons. Glass and plated butter dish. Plated butter knife. Glass dish. B 9^ COME OUT OF THE KITCHEN. 97 Plated pepper pot. Glass and plated salt shaker. Wine basket. Water bottle. Four glass ice plates. Plated dish with lid. Plated spoon. Small oak tray. Ci