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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
Ich. What, me, Miss?
Deb. Not poached, I hope, Ichabod?
Ich. Poached, Miss? No, Miss, I wur trying to teach a fly of mine to swim, that wur all, Miss, and when I took un from the water there wur this thing hanging on to the end of un, and I couldn't get 'un off.
Mrs. R. Thee'd best stop awhile now, Ichabod, and the girls will gie un a bit sup. Thee mother will be main glad to be rid o' ye a bit, I take it.
Ich. Thank ye, ma'am. Mother's alius glad to be rid of me at supper toime. Gie me un, Miss, I'll clean un for ye.
Rach. Shall I cook un, Miss?
Mrs. R. Na, na, thee bring the pan in here, Rachael, I woan't trust the master's supper to 'ee, while there's a pair of breeches about the room.
Rach. I'm sure I don't want 'em there at all.
Mrs. R. Ah, thee wouldn't ha' the lad theer wi'out 'em! Go and do as I tell 'ee.
Mrs. R. The lad will enjoy it all the more if thee cook it for un. Ah. and he do enjoy his food too. It do me good to see un eat.
Deb. He does you a lot of good that way, doesn't he, aunt?
Mes. R. Ah, yes, he be like his father wur before him, a rare trencher man. Ah, but they're better than those as doesn't eat much, but sits a-turning and a-smelling, and a-grumbling at everything that's set before them, for all the world like an overfed turkey cock trying to eat potato peelings. Thee wean't ha' much trouble looking arter un when I'm gone.
Deb. Oh, aunt, how naughty you are, always talking of being "gone," just as if you were an old woman.
Mrs. R. No, no, lass, I bean't talking of being gone now. I've many a year before me yet, please God. But it must come sometime, thee knaws, and I like to think that when it do there'll be someone to gie the lad his bit of food, and look arter un loike--and, Lord, a man do want a power of looking arter to be sure.
Deb. I think that's why we love 'em, aunt, because they're so helpless.
Mrs. R. Ah, maybe it is. There must be summut to account for it.
Deb. And I suppose they be like the poultry. They get fond of us because we feed them. He does say I've got a good hand for cooking, aunt.
Mrs. R. Ah, yes, lass. It be a light hand for the kitchen and a cool hand for the dairy. It will make a good hand for a farmer's wife.
Deb. I don't think Allen will want a farmer's wife, aunt.
Mrs. R. Lord, whose wife should a farmer want, then?
Deb. I don't think Allen wants to be a farmer at all. He says he wants to be a somebody, not a nobody.
Mrs. R. Well, bean't a farmer somebody?
Deb. Somebody, aunt, but not a somebody. Allen wants to be in the world, you know, aunt.
Mrs. R. Well, and he be in the world sure, ain't he? Sure I think I ought to know.
Deb. No, not in the world he means, aunt. Not in the great world as they call it.
Mrs. R. Ah! he be in God's world, that ought to be big enough for un.
Deb. Yes, aunt, but it's not select enough. There's all sorts of common people in God's world. Allen wants to be in the big world of lords and ladies and big folk up in London. He says it's being buried alive down here; that he wants to be among the stir and bustle.
Mrs. R. Ah! that be only his talk. The young uns be all alike. They run arter shadows like the chickens do arter chaff. Why, I mind when I wur a lass, I used to look in the glass and think I'd be a duchess. But the dook didn't come, so I just married thee uncle. The young ducks all fancies as they'll paddle off to the sea, But they live and dies in the old pond arter all.
Deb. And you think that your duck will live and die in the Woodbarrow pond, aunt?
Mrs. R. Ah, bless un, yes, the lads they fancy that any place is better than the old home; but arter they've had a good look round, they know that the old home's better than any place else. He'll flutter about a bit maybe , but he'll settle down in the nest 'fore long, and the children will be running about the house and making it untidy--Bless 'em--afore I close my eyes.
Deb. I wonder who he'll marry.
Mrs. R. Ah, I wonder now.
Deb. There's Polly Steddles. He walked home from church with her last Sunday. I think he's a little sweet on Polly Steddles, don't you, aunt?
Mrs. R. Ah, it bean't much good being a little sweet on a girl that size. It would take a power of sweetness to go round her. .
Deb. She's big, but then men like big women, don't they, aunt?
Mrs. R. Ah, some on 'em goes in for quantity, and some on 'em goes in for quality. The little ones, they go in for size cause they bean't much of it themselves; and the big ones goes in for sense, cause that be what they be most in need of. And Allen, he be's medium, so he can just please himself.
Deb. And there's Miss Dexter, that he drives over to Minehead so often. He thinks a lot of her, I know.
Mrs. R. What, Colonel Dexter's darter, oop at Lucott's Hill? Oh, yes, her'd be a fine un to make the butter and cure the hams, her would. Her be loike them umbrellas they be a selling at Peter's for 1s. 11d.--only meant to be walked out wi'.
Deb. Ah, but she's so beautiful, aunt, and she's a lady!
Mrs. R. Ah! there be a good many sorts o' them.
Deb. She is a lady, isn't she, aunt?
Mrs. R. Her's got the clothes all right.
As if thee didn't know the lad were in love with theeself.
Deb. Sure an' I don't see how I should--he never says anything.
Mrs. R. Ah, the men bain't much to say for their-selves, poor things. Thee must go by what they does. Why, thee uncle kept company wi' me for three years, an' un never said a word. The first year un only sot and stared, and the second year un put un's arm round my waist, and the third year un kissed me, and then mother said it were time to put up the banns, and her done it.
Deb. Ah, the man that wants to marry me will have to ask me ever and ever so many times and plead, oh, as if his life depended on it
Mrs. R. Ah, the lad be shy, that be all. He be frightened 'o thee.
Deb. Of me, aunt?
Deb. Jim Harkabuck is a very nice fellow, and he does stare. Do you think Allen really--really does--Aunt?
Mrs. R. Does he! Why beant he alius quarreling wi' thee, and doan't he eat twice as much o' anything if he knows thee cooked it--and besides--
Deb. Besides what, aunt?
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