Read Ebook: Woodbarrow Farm: Play in Three Acts by Jerome Jerome K Jerome Klapka

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Ebook has 860 lines and 20280 words, and 18 pages

WOODBARROW FARM

Play In Three Acts

Samuel French: London

Piffin..............

Allen Rollitt.......

Luke Cranbourne.....

Mike Stratton.......

Mr. Purtwee.........

Hon. Tom Gussett....

Baron Von Schnorr...

Richard Hanningford

Ichabod.............

Peters..............

Colonel Jack Dexter.

Clara Dexter........

Mrs. Rollitt........

Rachael.............

Deborah Deacon......

SYNOPSIS OF SCENERY

Act I

Woodbarrow Farm, Exmoor

Act II

Scene 2--Woodbarrow Farm

Time: The Present

WOODBARROW FARM

MUSIC TO OPEN ACT: OLD ENGLISH AIR

Mrs. R. Rachael! Rachael!! Ah, drat the girls--alius philandering about with the boys when they're wanted. Rachael!

Rach. Did you call, ma'am?

Mrs. R. Did I call? Why thee be getting deaf in thee old age sure, Rachael.

Rach. I was in the dairy, ma'am.

Mrs. R. In the dairy! Well, and the dairy bean't a mile off, be it? I expect there wur Joe's thick head 'twixt you and the sound of my voice, warn't there?

Rach. No, ma'am.

Mrs. R. Whose wur it, then?

Rach. Ichabod's, ma'am. I--I mean Mr. Ichabod was helping me, ma'am.

Mrs. R. What at? How often am I to tell 'ee I won't have that hulking scamp hanging about here after his work's done. Do 'ee understand?

Rach. Yes, ma'am.

Mrs. R. Here's getting on for 8 o'clock, and thee master may be home any minute as hungry as a hunter, poor lad, and noothing ready for his supper. Get down the ham , and bring me in the frying-pan and I'll do it myself.

Rach. Yes, ma'am.

Mrs. R. And don't be half-an-hour about it. Is Ichabod gone?

Rach. Oh yes, ma'am.

Rach. Yes, ma'am.

Mrs. R. Well then, do ut. Thee keeps on saying, "yes, ma'am," "yes, ma'am," and there 'ee sticks.

Mrs. R. If thee don't take theeself off pretty, soon, my boy, I'll do that for un.

Ich. Thowt maybe he'd do for the measter's supper, ma'am. He wur a-having his own not half-an-hour agone, ma'am.

Mrs. R. Her be a three pound un, Ichabod.

Ich. As full as an egg, her be, just. Thee feel her, ma'am.

Mrs. R. Ah, well, I won't say but what thee art a thoughtful lad, Ichabod, and it will be main good for thee measter's supper. See there's a clear fire. Rachael, and bring me the stew pan and we'll boil un.

Deb. No, don't boil it, aunt. Let me fry it. Allen alius likes 'em best that way.

Mrs. R. So un does, lass, so un does. Ah, thee knaw what the lad loikes, thee shall fry it. And I'll finish the linen while I've got my hand on it.

Deb. Allen will like that, I know. Where did you get it?

Ich. What, me, Miss?

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