Seeing the Elephant - George Baker

George Melville Baker

Seeing the Elephant

SEEING THE ELEPHANT

Silas Somerby, a Farmer, occasionally addicted to the bottle.

Harry Holden, his right-hand Man.

Bias Black, a Teamster.

Pat Murphy, a Laborer.

Johnny Somerby, Silass Son.

Rachel Somerby, his Wife.

Sally Somerby, his Daughter.

Silas, dark pants, short, thick boots, yellow vest, a towel pinned about his neck, gray wig, face lathered.

Harry, gray pants, blue shirt, black neckkerchief, dark coat.

Bias, thick boots, blue frock, woolly wig, black face, long whip.

Pat Murphy, in shirt sleeves, blue overalls, cap, wig.

Johnny, close-cut hair, pants of his fathers, rolled up at bottom, drawn up very high with suspenders, thin coat, short and open, very broad brimmed straw hat.

Rachel and Sally, neat calico dresses.

Scene. Room in Somerbys House. Old-fashioned sofa, R.; table, C., laid for breakfast. Harry seated R. of table, eating; rocking-chair, R. C. Sally seated, L., shelling peas or paring apples. Entrances, R., L., and C.

Sally. (Singing.)

Harry. Beautiful, beautiful! Theres music in that air. Now take a fresh roll, and keep me company while I take another of your mothers delicious fresh rolls.

Sally. Making the sixth you have devoured before my eyes!

Harry. Exactly. What a tribute to her cooking! Shes the best bred woman in the country. Her pies are miracles of skill; her rolls are rolls of honor; her golden butter is so sweet, it makes me sweet upon her.

Sally. Well, I declare, Harry Holden, thats poetry!

Harry. Is it? Then hereafter call me the poet of the breakfast table. My lay shall be seconded with a fresh egg.

Sally. Another? Land sakes! you think of nothing but eating.

Harry. Exactly, when Im hungry. My hunger once appeased, I think of this good farm the broad fields, mowing, haying, the well-fed cattle, and sometimes, when I am very hungry, I think of the time when I leaned over the fence, and gazed enchanted upon the pretty girl milking her cow whose name was Sally.

Sally. Eh the cow?

Harry. Now, Sally, dont destroy the poetry of my language.

Sally. Dont be ungrammatical, Harry; and do stop talking nonsense.

Harry. I will, for my breakfast is finished, and I can talk to you no longer. Im off. (Sings.)

(Rises.) Ah, I little dreamed, two years ago, when I was playing the fine gentleman at Squire Jordans,  a city swell, up in the country here on a vacation,  that I should soon become a farmer.

Sally. Are you sorry it is so, Harry?

Harry. (Comes down, places a cricket beside Sally, and sits on it.) Sorry, you gypsy, when it has made a man of me? No. It has been my salvation. I have a fortune left me, and was in a fair way of squandering it in all the vices of the city; had acquired a taste for hot suppers, fine wines, gambling, and all sorts of dissipation; was on the high road to ruin, when some good angel sent me up here. I saw you, and was saved.

Sally. And you are perfectly contented with your situation?

Harry. Well, no, Im not. In fact, Im getting very much dissatisfied.

Sally. Not with me, Harry?

Harry. With you? Bless your dear little heart! youre the only satisfaction I have. When I asked the old gentleman your father to give you to me, two years ago, he said, No, young man. Though Ive no doubt you love my Sally, youve got too much money. You never worked a day in your life. Suppose your wealth should take to itself wings some day, whats to become of her? She shall be a farmers wife, or die an old maid. You say you would die for her. Go to work, learn to run a farm, bring out your muscle, get some color in that pale face, get rid of your vices, and then, if your money goes, youve the power to earn a living, and a smart wife to help you.

Sally. Thats just what he said, and twas good advice.

Harry. It was, though I did not think so at the time. But I took it, hired out to him, and now thank my good fortune for the copy he set me.

Sally. And everybody says theres not a more likely farmer in the neighborhood than you.

Harry. Much obliged to everybody. But, Sally, I think your father is a little selfish.

Sally. Dont abuse father. Hes the most generous man

Harry. I know. But Ive grown valuable to him. And now, when I ask him to let me marry you, he hems and haws, and says, Dont be in a hurry. Have patience. He knows that the moment you are my wife, I shall pack up and be off; and thats whats the matter.

Sally. It will all come right one of these days.

Harry. I suppose it will. But it dont come right now. I tell you, Sally, Im going to have an answer this very day, or to-morrow Im off.

Sally. Off? And leave me?

Harry. O, no. Take you with me. You love me dont you, Sally?

Sally. You know I do, Harry.

Harry. Then marry me. Ill make you the happiest woman in the world. Ill carry you to an elegant home, and scatter money in every direction, to bring around you luxuries and enjoyments.

Sally. No, Harry; I could enjoy nothing, leaving my father without his consent. I have always tried to be a good daughter. He would be very angry, should I disobey him, and no good fortune would follow me. No, Harry. Be patient. Theres a good time coming.

Harry. Yes, its always coming. But I shall ask his consent to-day.

Sally. Do, Harry. I hope hell say yes, for you deserve it. (Puts her arm about his neck.)

Harry. And you deserve the best husband in the world, you gypsy. (Puts his arm round her waist, and kisses her.)

Johnny. Christopher Columbus! O, hokey! (Sally and Harry jump up.) Did you hear it?

Sally. Hear what? Why dont you frighten a body to death, and have done with it!

Johnny. Somebody fired off something close to my head. Blunderbuss, I guess. Did it hit you, Sally?

Sally. I didnt hear anything.

Johnny. Didnt you feel it? Must have hit yer right in the mouth. Its awful red!

Harry. Come, Johnny, theres enough of that. I dont like it.

Johnny. Dont you, though? Thought you did. Seemed to take to it natral nuff. Wheres dad?

Sally. He is not up yet. (Sits and resumes her work. Harry goes to chair, back, and takes up his hat.)

Johnny. Guess hes kinder sleepy after his jaunt to the city yesterday. Guess the coppers are hot! O, wont he catch it?

Harry. Why, whats the matter?

Johnny. Matter? Say, thought you was goin down with me after that woodchuck this mornin. Dont see what a feller wants to fool away his time here with a gal for, when theres a woodchuck to be got so handy.

Mrs. S. Ill woodchuck yer! (Taking him by the ear.) What d ye mean by keeping out er the way all the morning hey?

Johnny. O! Quit, now! You hurt!

Mrs. S. Hope I do. You jest stir out er this room till Ive done with yer, if you dare! (Sits in rocking-chair, and rocks violently.) Sakes alive! Its enough to drive one ravin distracted! Theres yer father sleeping like a log, and its arter eight oclock! Where did you two critters go yesterday hey?

Johnny. Went to the city, of course.