let’s hear Dundreary’s idea.
| Lord Dundreary |
It’s so seldom I get an idea that when I do get one it startles me. Let us get a pickle bottle. |
| Florence Trenchard |
Pickle bottle! All come down. |
| Lord Dundreary |
Yeth; one of those things with glass sides. |
|
Enter Asa Trenchard, L. 2 E. |
| Florence Trenchard |
Oh! you mean a glass case. |
| Lord Dundreary |
Yeth, a glass case, that’s the idea, and let us put this Mr. Thomas Hawk in it, and have him on exhibition. That’s the idea. |
| Asa Trenchard |
Down L. of Florence Trenchard, overhearing. Oh! that’s your idea, is it? Wal, stranger, I don’t know what they’re going to do with me, but wherever they do put me, I hope it will be out of the reach of a jackass. I’m a real hoss, I am, and I get kinder riley with those critters. |
| Lord Dundreary |
Now he thinks he’s a horse. I’ve heard of a great jackass, and I dreampt of a jackass, but I don’t believe there is any such insect. |
| Florence Trenchard |
Well, cousin, I hope you made yourself comfortable. |
| Asa Trenchard |
Well, no, I can’t say as I did. You see there was so many all-fired fixins in my room I couldn’t find anything I wanted. |
| Florence Trenchard |
What was it you couldn’t find in your room? |
| Asa Trenchard |
There was no soft soap. |
| Capt. De Boots |
Soft soap! |
| Augusta |
Soft soap! |
| Harry Vernon |
Soft soap! |
| Mrs. Mountchessington |
Soft soap! |
| Florence Trenchard |
Soft soap! |
| Georgina |
On sofa. Soft soap! |
| Lord Dundreary |
Thoft thoap? |
| Asa Trenchard |
Yes, soft soap. I reckon you know what that is. However, I struck a pump in the kitchen, slicked my hair down a little, gave my boots a lick of grease, and now I feel quite handsome; but I’m everlastingly dry. |
| Florence Trenchard |
You’ll find ale, wine and luncheon on the side table. |
| Asa Trenchard |
Wal, I don’t know as I’ve got any appetite. You see comin’ along on the cars I worried down half a dozen ham sandwiches, eight or ten boiled eggs, two or three pumpkin pies and a string of cold sausages—and—Wal, I guess I can hold on till dinnertime. |
| Lord Dundreary |
Did that illustrious exile eat all that? I wonder where he put it? |
| Asa Trenchard |
I’m as dry as a sap-tree in August. |
| Mr. Binny |
Throwing open, E. D. Luncheon! |
| Asa Trenchard |
Goes hastily up to table. Wal, I don’t want to speak out too plain, but this is an awful mean set out for a big house like this. |
| Florence Trenchard |
Why, what’s wrong, sir? |
| Asa Trenchard |
Why, there’s no mush! |
| Asa Trenchard |
Nary slapjack. |
| Lord Dundreary |
Why, does he want Mary to slap Jack? |
| Asa Trenchard |
No pork and beans! |
| Lord Dundreary |
Pork’s been here, but he’s left. |
| Asa Trenchard |
And where on airth’s the clam chowder? |
| Lord Dundreary |
Where is clam chowder? He’s never here when he’s wanted. |
| Asa Trenchard |
Drinks and spits. Here’s your health, old hoss. Do you call that a drink? See here, cousin, you seem to be the liveliest critter here, so just hurry up the fixins, and I’ll show this benighted aristocratic society what real liquor is. So hurry up the fixins. |
| All |
Fixins? |
| Florence Trenchard |
What do you mean by fixins? |
| Asa Trenchard |
Why, brandy, rum, gin and whiskey. We’ll make them all useful. |
| Florence Trenchard |
Oh, I’ll hurry up the fixins. What fun! Exit, R. |
| Lord Dundreary |
Oh! I thought he meant the gas fixins. |
| Asa Trenchard |
Say, you, you Mr. Puffy, you run out and get me a bunch of mint and a bundle of straws; hurry up, old hoss. Exit Mr. Binny, L. 3 E., indignantly. Say, Mr. Sailor man, just help me down with this table. Oh! don’t you get riley, you and I ran against each other when I came in, but we’ll be friends yet. Harry Vernon helps him with table to C. |
|
Enter Florence Trenchard, followed by servants in livery; they carry a case of decanters and water, on which are seven or eight glasses, two or three tin mixers and a bowl of sugar. Mr. Binny enters with a bunch of mint and a few straws. |
| Florence Trenchard |
Here, cousin, are the fixins. |
| Asa Trenchard |
That’s yer sort. Now then, I’ll give you all a drink that’ll make you squeal. To Mr. Binny. Here, Puffy, just shake that up, faster. I’ll give that sick gal a drink that’ll make her squirm like an eel on a mud bank. |
| Lord Dundreary |
Screams. What a horrible idea. Runs about stage. |
| Florence Trenchard |
Oh, don’t mind him! That’s only an American joke. |
| Lord Dundreary |
A joke! Do you call that a joke? To make a sick girl squirm like a mud bank on an eel’s skin? |
| Asa Trenchard |
Yes, I’ll give you a drink that’ll make your whiskers return under your chin, which is their natural location. Now, ladies and gentlemen, what’ll you have, Whiskey Skin, Brandy Smash, Sherry Cobbler, Mint Julep or Jersey Lightning? |
| Augusta |
Oh, I want a Mint Julep. |
| Capt. De Boots |
Give me a Gin Cocktail. |
| Florence Trenchard |
I’ll take a Sherry Cobbler. |
| Harry Vernon |
Brandy Smash for me. |
| Mrs. Mountchessington |
Give me a Whiskey Skin. |
| Georgina |
I’ll take a Lemonade. |
| Lord Dundreary |
Give me a Jersey Lightning. |
| Asa Trenchard |
Give him a Jersey Lightning. As Lord Dundreary drinks. Warranted to kill at forty rods. Lord Dundreary falls back on Mrs. Mountchessington and Georgina. |
|
Closed in. |
Scene 2
Library in Trenchard Manor. Oriel Window, L. C., with curtains. Two chairs and table brought on at change.
|
Enter Mr. Binny and Mr. Coyle, L. 1 E. |
| Mr. Binny |
Sir Hedward will see you directly, Mr. Coyle. |
| Mr. Coyle |
Very well. House full of company, I see, Mr. Binny. |
| Mr. Binny |
Cram full, Mr. Coyle. As one of the first families in the country we must keep up our position. |
| Mr. Coyle |
Rubbing his hands. Certainly, certainly, that is as long as we can, Mr. Binny. Tell Murcott, my clerk, to bring my papers in here. You’ll find him in the servant’s hall, and see that you keep your strong ale out of his way. People who serve me must have their senses about them. |
| Mr. Binny |
Aside. I should say so, or ’e’d ’ave hevery tooth hout in their ’eds, the |