Five Little Plays Part 10

[_He breaks the flimsy thing up, as he speaks._] And to think we paid for this muck, in the days we were human beings--paid about three times its value! And to think of the poor devils, poor devils like us, who sweated their life-blood out to make it--and of the blood-sucking devils who sold it and got fat on it--and now back it goes to the devil it came from, and we can at least get warm for a minute. [_He crams the wood into the grate._] Got any paper, Mary?

MARY. [_Taking an old newspaper from the trunk._] Here, Joe.

JOE. That will help to build up a fire. [_He glances at it, then lays it carefully underneath the wood._ MARY _gets lamp from table._] The Daily Something or other--that tells the world what a happy people we are--how proud of belonging to an Empire on which the sun never sets. And I'd sell Gibraltar to-night for a sausage with mashed potatoes; and let Russia take India if some one would give me a clerks.h.i.+p at a pound a week.--There, in you go! A match, Mary?

MARY. [_Standing above_ JOE, _handing him one._] Ok Joe, be careful--we've only two left!

JOE. I'll be careful. Wait, though--I'll see whether there's a bit of tobacco still in my pipe. [_He fishes the pipe out of his pocket._] A policeman who warned me away from the kerb gave me some tobacco. "Mustn't beg," he said. "Got a pipe? Well, here's some tobacco." I believe he'd have given me money. But it was the first kind word I had heard all day, and it choked me.--There's just a bit left at the bottom. [_He bustles._]

Now, first the fire. [_He puts the match to the paper--it kindles._] And then my pipe. [_The fire burns up; he throws himself in front of it._]

Boo-o-oh, I'm sizzling.... I got so wet that I felt the water running into my lungs--my feet didn't seem to belong to me--and as for my head and nose! [_Yawns._] Well, smoke's good--by the powers, I'm getting warm--come closer to it, Mary. It's a little after midnight now--and I left home, this fine, luxurious British home, just as soon as it was light. And I've tramped the streets all day. Net result, a policeman gave me a pipeful of tobacco, I lunched off a bit of bread that I saw floating down the gutter--and I dined off the kitchen smell of the Cafe Royal. That's my day.

MARY. [_Stroking his hand._] Poor boy, poor boy!

JOE. I stood for an hour in Leicester Square when the theatres emptied, thinking I might earn a copper, calling a cab, or something. There they were, all streaming out, happy and clean and warm--broughams and motor-cars--supper at the Savoy and the Carlton--and a hundred or two of us others in the gutter, hungry--looking at them. They went off to their supper--it was pouring, and I got soaked--and there I stood, dodging the policemen, dodging the horses' heads and the motors--and it was always--get away, you loafer, get away--get away--get away--

MARY. We've done nothing to deserve it, Joe--

JOE. [_With sudden fury._] Deserve it! What have I ever done wrong! Wasn't _my_ fault the firm went bankrupt and I couldn't get another job. I've a first-rate character--I'm respectable--what's the use? I want to work--they won't let me!

MARY. That illness of mine ate up all our savings. O Joe, I wish I had died!

JOE. And left me alone? That's not kind of you, Mary. How about Mrs.

Willis? Is she worrying about the rent?

MARY. Well, she'd like to have it, of course--they're so dreadfully poor themselves--but she says she won't turn us out. And I'm going to-morrow to her daughter's upstairs--she makes matchboxes, you know--and I don't see why I shouldn't try--I could earn nearly a s.h.i.+lling a day.

JOE. A s.h.i.+lling a day! Princely! [_His pipe goes out. He takes a last puff at it, squints into it to make sure all the tobacco is gone, then lays it down with a sigh._] I reckon _I'll_ try making 'em too. I went to the Vestry again, this morning, to see whether they'd take me as sweeper--but they've thirty names down, ahead of me. I've tried chopping wood, but I can't--I begin to cough the third stroke--there's something wrong with me inside, somewhere. I've tried every Inst.i.tution on G.o.d's earth--and there are others before me, and there is no vacancy, and I mustn't beg, and I mustn't worry the gentlemen. A s.h.i.+lling a day--can one earn as much as that! Why, Mary, that will be fourteen s.h.i.+llings a week--an income! We'll do it!

MARY. It's not quite a s.h.i.+lling, Joe--you have to find your own paste and odds and ends. And of course it takes a few weeks to learn, before you begin to make any money.

JOE. [_Crestfallen._] Does it though? And what are we going to do, those few weeks? I thought there was a catch in it, somewhere. [_He gets up and stretches himself._] Well, here's a free-born Englishman, able to conduct correspondence in three languages, bookkeeping by double entry, twelve years' experience--and all he's allowed to do is to starve. [_He stretches himself again._]

But in spite of all temptations To belong to other nations--

[_With sudden pa.s.sion._] G.o.d! I wish I were a Zulu!

MARY. [_Edging to him._] Joe--

JOE. [_Turning._] Well?

MARY. Joe, Joe, we've tried very hard, haven't we?

JOE. Tried! Is there a job in this world we'd refuse? Is there anything we'd turn up our nose at? Is there any chance we've neglected?

MARY. [_Stealing nervously to him and laying a hand on his arm._] Joe--

JOE. [_Raising his head and looking at her._] Yes--what is it? [_She stands timidly with downcast eyes._] Well? Out with it, Mary!

MARY. [_Suddenly._] It's this, Joe.

[_She goes feverishly to the mattress, and from underneath it she pulls out a big, fat purse which she hands him._

JOE. [_Staring._] A purse!

MARY. [_Nodding._] Yes.

JOE. You--

MARY. Found it.

JOE. [_Looking at her._] Found?

MARY. [_Awkwardly._] In a way I did--yes.

JOE. How?

MARY. It came on to rain, Joe--and I went into a Tube Station--and was standing by a bookstall, showing Minnie the ill.u.s.trated papers--and an old lady bought one--and she took out her purse--this purse--and paid for it--and laid the purse on the board while she fumbled to pick up her skirts--and then some one spoke to her--a friend, I suppose--and--there were lots of people standing about--I don't know how it was--I was out in the street, with Minnie--

JOE. You had the purse?

MARY. Yes--

JOE. No one followed you?

MARY. No one. I couldn't run, as I had to carry Minnie.

JOE. What made you do it?

MARY. I don't know--something in me did it--She put the purse down just by the side of my hand--my fingers clutched it before I knew--and I was out in the street.

JOE. How much is there in it?

MARY. I haven't looked, Joe.

JOE. [_Wondering._] You haven't looked?

MARY. No; I didn't dare.

JOE. [_Sorrowfully._] I didn't think we'd come to this, Mary.

MARY. [_Desperately._] We've got to do something. Before we can earn any money at making matchboxes we'll have to spend some weeks learning. And you've not had a decent meal for a month--nor have I. If there's money inside this purse you can get some clothes--and for me too--I need them!

It's not as though the old lady would miss it--she's rich enough--her cloak was real sable--and no one can find us out--they can't tell one piece of money from the other. It's heavy, Joe--I think there's a lot inside.

JOE. [_Weighing it mechanically._] Yes--it's heavy--

MARY. [_Eagerly._] Open it, Joe.

JOE. [_Turning to her again._] Why didn't you?