A Book of One-act Plays

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Bobbs-Merrill, 1922 - American Drama (collections) - 216 pages

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Page 30 - Pease) Porridge Hot Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, Pease porridge in the pot nine days old ; Some like it hot, some like it cold, Some like it in the pot nine days old.
Page 158 - THE DEACON'S HAT* SCENE: A little shop called Y Gegin (The Kitchen), in Bala, North Wales. TIME : Monday morning at half-past eleven. To the right is the counter of Y Gegin, set out with a bountiful supply of groceries; behind the counter are grocery-stocked shelves. Upon the counter is a good-sized enamel-ware bowl filled with herring pickled in brine and leek, also a basket of fresh eggs, a jar of pickles, some packages of codfish, a half dozen loaves of bread, a big round cheese, several pounds...
Page 172 - Nay, nay, not that, Hughie lad, that tin above! HUGH (absent-mindedly touching tin) Is it ox tongue? DEACON ROBERTS (slipping in third egg and not even looking up) . Ox tongue, lad? Nay, nothin
Page 163 - I'm no carin' about cats with heaven starin' me in the face. [NELI turns about swiftly with the quick, sudden motions characteristic of her, and HUGH shrinks into himself. She shakes her finger at him and goes over to kiss him. NELI. Hughie, lad, ye're not to touch the book while I am gone to market. HUGH. Nay, nay, certainly not ! NELI. And ye're to be on the lookout for Mrs. Jones the Wash, for Mrs. Jenkins the Midwife — Jane Elin has a new baby, an' it'll be needin' somethin'. [Pointing to counter.]...
Page 177 - I'm sure to find it. [She mounts upon chair. At this moment the shop door-bell rings violently, and there enters MRS. JONES THE WASH, very fat and very jolly. She is dressed in short skirt, very full, clogs on her feet, a bodice made of striped Welsh flannel, a shabby kerchief, a cap on her head, and over this a shawl. NELI turns her head a little.] Aye, Mrs. Jones the Wash, in a minute, if you please. Sit down until I find Deacon Roberts's relish whatever.
Page 205 - ... desk and takes it to the JUDGE, who studies it attentively. IMP returns to his own desk, where he again looks in a drawer and brings forth a menu card, which he glances over, grinning mischievously. [The former POOR MAN re-enters from the changing-room. He is well dressed, and taking a well-filled wallet from his pocket, he looks at it gloatingly. However, from time to time, a shade of annoyance passes over his face, and he puts his hand to the pit of his stomach. IMP runs to meet him, and hands...
Page 174 - I'd better go. NELI (again savagely) Nay, stay! Stay for — for what ye came for whatever! [Neli looks challengingly at the Deacon. Then she goes on wiping brine carefully from husband's hair and from behind his ears. The Deacon coughs and pushes bowl away with the toe of his boot. DEACON ROBERTS (smiling) 'T is unnecessary to remain then, mum. NELI (to Hugh) What did he get? HUGH (sneezing) N — n — Achoo ! — nothin' ! DEACON ROBERTS (with sudden interest looking at the floor) Well, indeed!
Page 177 - T is ten minutes before twelve, an' my dinner will be ready at twelve. [Pulls harder. NELI (to Hugh) Keep him by the fire, lad. DEACON ROBERTS There, Hughie lad, let me go! [But Hugh holds on, and the Deacon's coat begins to come off. NELI (sarcastically) The relish — American Indian, ye said, I think, — will make your dinner taste fine and grand!
Page 175 - DEACON ROBERTS (With sudden interest looking at the floor): Well, indeed! NELI (Suspiciously): What is it? (He reaches down with difficulty to a small thick puddle on the floor just beneath his left coat tail. He aims a red forefinger at it, lifts himself, and sucks fingertip.) DEACON ROBERTS (Smiling): Ahem, Mrs. Williams, mum, 'tis excellent herrin
Page 159 - ... behind, also trimmed with brass buttons, stock wound around his neck, and tight trousers down to his boot tops. Neli Williams, his wife, a comely, capable young woman, busy with her knitting every instant she talks, is clad in her market costume, a scarlet cloak and a tall black Welsh beaver. Over her arm is an immense basket. NELI (commandingly) Hughie, put down that book! HUGH (still going on reading) Haven't I just said a man is his own master, whatever! NELI Hughie, ye're to mind the shop...

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