[Miss J. _and_ P. _throw themselves between the combatants_.
_Miss J._ For any mess you make _we_ shall be scolded, So wait until a drugget we"ve unfolded!
[_They lay down drugget on Stage._
_The Soldier D._ (_politely_). No hurry, Miss, _we_ don"t object to waiting.
_The Sailor D._ (_aside_). His valour--like my own--"s evaporating!
(_Defiantly to_ Soldier D.). On guard! You"ll see how soon I"ll run you through!
(_Confidentially._) (If you will not prod _me_, I won"t pink _you_.)
_The Soldier D._ Through your false kid my deadly blade I"ll pa.s.s!
(_Confidentially._) (Look here, old fellow, don"t you be a _ha.s.s_!)
[_They exchange pa.s.ses at a considerable distance._
_The Sailor D._ (_aside_). Don"t lose your temper now!
_Sold. D._ Don"t get excited.
Do keep a little farther off!
_Sail. D._ Delighted!
[_Wounds_ Soldier D. _by misadventure._
_Sold. D._ (_annoyed_). There now, you"ve gone and made upon my wax a dent!
_Sail. D._ Excuse me, it was really quite an accident.
_Sold. D._ (_savagely_). Such clumsiness would irritate a saint!
[_Stabs Sailor Doll._
_Miss J. and P._ (_imploringly_). Oh, stop! the sight of sawdust turns us faint!
[_They drop into chairs, swooning._
_Sail. D._ I"ll pay you out for that!
[_Stabs Soldier D._
_Sold. D._ Right through you"ve poked me!
_Sailor D._ So you have _me_!
_Sold. D._ You shouldn"t have provoked me!
[_They fall transfixed._
_Sailor D._ (_faintly_). Alas, we have been led away by vanity.
Dolls shouldn"t try to imitate humanity! [_Dies._
_Soldier D._ For, if they do, they"ll end like us, unpitied, Each on the other"s sword absurdly spitted!
[_Dies._ Miss J. _and_ P. _revive, and bend sadly over the corpses_.
_Miss Jenny._ From their untimely end we draw this moral, How wrong it is, even for dolls, to quarrel!
_Miss Polly._ Yes, Jenny, in the fate of these poor fellows see What sad results may spring from female jealousy!
[_They embrace penitently as Curtain falls._
XII.
CONRAD; OR, THE THUMBSUCKER.
(_Adapted freely from a well-known Poem in the "Struwwelpeter."_)
CHARACTERS.
_Conrad (aged 6)._
_Conrad"s Mother(47)._
_The Scissorman (age immaterial)._
SCENE--_An Apartment in the house of_ CONRAD"S _Mother, window in centre at back, opening upon a quiet thoroughfare. It is dusk, and the room is lighted only by the reflected gleam from the street-lamps._ CONRAD _discovered half-hidden by left window-curtain._
_Conrad_ (_watching street_). Still there! For full an hour he has not budged Beyond the circle of yon lamp-post"s rays!
The gaslight falls upon his crimson hose, And makes a steely glitter at his thigh, While from the shadow peers a hatchet-face And fixes sinister malignant eyes-- On whom? (_Shuddering._) I dare not trust myself to guess And yet--ah, no--it cannot be myself!
I am so young--one is still young at six!-- What man can say that I have injured him?
Since, in my Mother"s absence all the day Engaged upon Munic.i.p.al affairs, I peacefully beguile the weary hours By suction of consolatory thumbs.
[_Here he inserts his thumb in his mouth, but almost instantly removes it with a start._
Again I meet those eyes! I"ll look no more-- But draw the blind and shut my terror out.
[_Draws blind and lights candle; Stage lightens._
Heigho, I wish my Mother were at home!
(_Listening._) At last! I hear her latch-key in the door!
[_Enter_ CONRAD"S _Mother, a lady of strong-minded appearance, rationally attired. She carries a large reticule full of doc.u.ments._