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Washington Square Plays

Washington Square Plays

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"[...]afterpiece of our parents. It has been frequently said by those optimists who are forever discovering the birth of the arts in popular amusements that vaudeville audiences will appreciate and applaud the best. This is only in part true. They will appreciate the best juggler, the cleverest trained dog, the most appealing ballad singer such as Chevalier or Harry Lauder. But they will no more appreciate those subtleties of dramatic art which must have free play in the serious development of the one-act play than the readers of a "popular" magazine in America (or England either) would appreciate Kipling's "They," or George Moore's "The Wild Goose," or de Maupassant's "La Ficelle." To expect them to is silly; and to expect that because the supreme, vivid example of any form is comprehensible to all classes and all mixtures of classes, therefore the supreme example is going to be developed out of the commonplace stuff such mixed audiences daily enjoy, is equally to misunderstand the evolution of an art product in our complex modern world. But, [...]."

Chapter 1 THE CLOD

A One-Act Play

By Lewis Beach

Copyright, 1914, by Emmet Lewis Beach, Jr.

(Note-The author acknowledges indebtedness to "The Least of These," by Donal Hamilton Haines, a short story which suggested the play.)

"The Clod" was produced by the Washington Square Players, under the direction of Holland Hudson, at the Bandbox Theatre, New York City, beginning January 10, 1916.

In the cast, in the order of their appearance, were the following:

MARY TRASK. Josephine A. Meyer

THADDEUS TRASK. John King

A NORTHERN SOLDIER. Glenn Hunter

A SOUTHERN SERGEANT. Robert Strange

A SOUTHERN PRIVATE. Spalding Hall

The Scene was designed by John King.

"The Clod" was subsequently revived by the Washington Square Players at the Comedy Theatre, New York City, beginning June 5, 1916. In this production Mary Morris played the part of Mary Trask.

Later it was presented in vaudeville by Martin Beck, opening at the Palace Theatre, New York City, August 21, 1916, with the following cast:

MARY TRASK. Sarah Padden

THADDEUS TRASK. John Cameron

A NORTHERN SOLDIER. Glenn Hunter

A SOUTHERN SERGEANT. Thomas Hamilton

A SOUTHERN PRIVATE. Gordon Gunnis

"The Clod" was first produced by the Harvard Dramatic Club, in March, 1914, with the cast as follows:

MARY TRASK. Christine Hayes

THADDEUS TRASK. Norman B. Clark

A NORTHERN SOLDIER. Dale Kennedy

A SOUTHERN SERGEANT. James W. D. Seymour

DICK. Richard Southgate

THE CLOD CHARACTERS

THADDEUS TRASK

MARY TRASK

A NORTHERN SOLDIER

A SOUTHERN SERGEANT

DICK

SCENE: The kitchen of a farmhouse on the borderline between the Southern and Northern states. TIME: Ten o'clock in the evening, September, 1863.

The back wall is broken at stage left by the projection at right angles of a partially enclosed staircase, four steps of which, leading to the landing, are visible to the audience. Underneath the enclosed stairway is a cubby-hole with a door; in front of the door stands a small table. To the left of this table is a kitchen chair. A door leading to the yard is in the centre of the unbroken wall back; to the right of the door, a cupboard, to the left, a stove. In the wall right are two windows. Between them is a bench, on which there are a pail and a dipper; above the bench a towel hanging on a nail, and above the towel a double-barrelled shot-gun suspended on two pegs.

In the wall left, and well down stage, is a closed door leading to another room. In the centre of the kitchen stands a large table; to the right and left of this, two straight-backed chairs.

The walls are roughly plastered. The stage is lighted by the moon, which shines into the room through the windows, and a candle on table centre. When the door back is opened, a glimpse of a desolate farmyard is seen in the moonlight.

When the curtain rises, THADDEUS TRASK, a man of fifty or sixty years of age, short and thick set, slow in speech and movement, yet in perfect health, sits lazily smoking his pipe in a chair at the right of the centre table.

After a moment, MARY TRASK, a tired, emaciated woman, whose years equal her husband's, enters from the yard, carrying a pail of water and a lantern. She puts the pail on the bench and hangs the lantern above it; then crosses to the stove.

MARY. Ain't got wood 'nough fer breakfast, Thad.

THADDEUS. I'm too tired to go out now; wait till mornin'.

[Pause. MARY lays the fire in the stove.]

Did I tell ye that old man Reed saw three Southern troopers pass his house this mornin'?

MARY [takes coffee pot from stove, crosses to bench, fills pot with water]. I wish them soldiers would git out o' the neighborhood. Whenever I see 'em passin', I have t' steady myself 'gainst somethin' or I'd fall. I couldn't hardly breathe yesterday when the Southerners came after fodder. I'd die if they spoke t' me.

THADDEUS. Ye needn't be afraid of Northern soldiers.

MARY [puts coffee pot on stove]. I hate 'em all-Union or Southern. I can't make head or tail t' what all this fightin's 'bout. An' I don't care who wins, so long as they git through, an' them soldiers stop stealin' our corn an' potatoes.

THADDEUS. Ye can't hardly blame 'em if they're hungry, ken ye?

MARY. It ain't right that they should steal from us poor folk. [Lifts a huge gunny sack of potatoes from the table and begins setting the table for breakfast, getting knives, forks, spoons, plates, cups, and saucers-two of each-from the cupboard.] We have hard 'nough times t' make things meet now. I ain't set down onct to-day, 'cept fer meals; an' when I think o' the work I got t' do t'morrow, I ought t' been in bed hours ago.

THADDEUS. I'd help if I could, but it ain't my fault if the Lord see'd fit t' lay me up, so I'm always ailin'. [Rises lazily.] Ye better try an' take things easy t'morrow.

MARY. It's well 'nough t' say, but them apples got t' be picked an' the rest o' the potatoes sorted. If I could sleep at night it'd be all right, but with them soldiers 'bout, I can't.

THADDEUS [crosses to right; fondly handles his double-barrelled shot-gun]. Jolly, wish I'd see a flock o' birds.

MARY [showing nervousness]. I'd rather go without than hear ye fire. I wish ye didn't keep it loaded.

THADDEUS. Ye know I ain't got time t' stop an' load when I see the birds. They don't wait fer ye. [Hangs gun on wall, drops into his chair, dejectedly.] Them pigs has got to be butchered.

MARY. Wait till I git a chance t' go t' sister's. I can't stand it t' hear 'em squeal.

THADDEUS [pulling off his boots, grunting meanwhile]. Best go soon then, 'cause they's fat as they'll ever be, an' there ain't no use in wastin' feed on 'em. [Pause, rises.] Ain't ye most ready fer bed?

MARY. Go on up.

[THADDEUS takes candle in one hand, boots in other; moves toward stairs.]

An', Thad, try not t' snore to-night.

THADDEUS [reaching the landing]. Hit me if I do. [Disappears from view.]

[MARY fills the kettle with water and puts it on the stove; closes the door back; takes the lantern from the wall, tries twice before she succeeds in blowing it out. Puts the lantern on the table before the cubby-hole. Drags herself up the stairs, pausing a moment on the top step for breath before she disappears from sight. There is a silence. Then the door back is opened a trifle and a man's hand is seen. Cautiously the door is opened wide, and a young NORTHERN SOLDIER is silhouetted on the threshold. He wears a dirty uniform and has a bloody bandage tied about his head. He is wounded, sick, and exhausted. He stands at the door a moment, listening intently; then hastily crosses to the centre table looking for food. He bumps against the chair and mutters an oath. Finding nothing on the table, he moves toward the cupboard. Suddenly the galloping of horses is heard in the distance. The NORTHERNER starts; then rushes to the window nearer the audience. For a moment the sound ceases, then it begins again, growing gradually louder and louder. The NORTHERNER hurries through the door left. Horses and voices are heard, in the yard, and almost immediately heavy thundering knocks sound on the door back. A racket is heard above stairs. The knockers on the door grow impatient, and push the door open. A large, powerful SOUTHERN SERGEANT and a smaller, more youthful TROOPER of the same army enter. At the same time, THADDEUS appears on the stairs, carrying a candle.]

SERGEANT [to THADDEUS; not unkindly]. Sorry, my friend, but you were so darn slow 'bout openin' the door, that we had to walk in. Has there been a Northern soldier round here to-day?

THADDEUS [timidly]. I ain't seed one.

SERGEANT. Have you been here all day?

THADDEUS. I ain't stirred from the place.

SERGEANT. Call the rest of your family down.

THADDEUS. My wife's all there is. [Goes to foot of stairs, and calls loudly and excitedly.] Mary! Mary! Come down right off.

SERGEANT. You better not lie to me or it'll go tough with you.

THADDEUS. I swear I ain't seed no one.

[MARY comes downstairs slowly. She is all atremble.]

THADDEUS. Say, Mary, you was h--

SERGEANT. You keep still, man. I'll question her myself. [To MARY.] You were here at the house all day?

[MARY is very fearful and embarrassed, but after a moment manages to nod her head slowly.] You didn't take a trip down to the store? [MARY shakes her head slowly.] Haven't you got a tongue?

MARY [with difficulty]. Y-e-s.

SERGEANT. Then use it. The Northern soldier who came here a while ago was pretty badly wounded, wasn't he?

MARY. I-I-no one's been here.

SERGEANT. Come, come, woman, don't lie. [MARY shows a slight sign of anger.] He had a bad cut in his forehead, and you felt sorry for him, and gave him a bite to eat.

MARY [haltingly]. No one's been near the house to-day.

SERGEANT [trying a different tone]. We're not going to hurt him, woman. He's a friend of ours. We want to find him, and put him in a hospital, don't we, Dick? [Turning to his companion.]

DICK. He's sick and needs to go to bed for a while.

MARY. He ain't here.

SERGEANT. What do you want to lie for?

MARY [quickly]. I ain't lyin'. I ain't seed no soldier.

THADDEUS. No one could 'a' come without her seein' 'em.

SERGEANT. I suppose you know what'll happen to you if you are hidin' the man? [MARY stands rooted to the spot where she stopped when she came downstairs. Her eyes are fixed on the SERGEANT.]

THADDEUS. There ain't no one here. We both been here all day, an' there couldn't no one come without our knowin' it. What would they want round here anyway?

SERGEANT. We'll search the place.

MARY [quickly]. Ye ain't got no--

SERGEANT [sharply]. What's that, woman?

MARY. There ain't no one here, an' ye're keepin' us from our sleep.

SERGEANT. Your sleep? This is an affair of life and death. Get us a lantern.

[THADDEUS moves to the table which stands in front of the cubby-hole, and lights the lantern from the candle which he holds in his hand. He hands the lantern to the SERGEANT.]

SERGEANT [seeing the door to the cubby-hole]. Ha! Tryin' to hide the door are you, by puttin' a table in front of it. You can't fool me. [To THADDEUS.] Pull the table away and let's see what's behind the door.

THADDEUS. It's a cubby-hole an' ain't been opened in years.

SERGEANT [sternly and emphatically]. I said to open the door.

[THADDEUS sets the candle on the larger table, moves the smaller table to the right, and opens the door to the cubby-hole. Anger is seen on MARY'S face. The SERGEANT takes a long-barrelled revolver from his belt, and peers into the cubby-hole. He sees nothing.]

SERGEANT [returning his revolver to his belt]. We're goin' to tear this place to pieces till we find him. You might just as well hand him over now.

MARY. There ain't no one here.

SERGEANT. All right. Now we'll see. Dick, you stand guard at the door.

[DICK goes to the door back, and stands gazing out into the night-his back to the audience.]

SERGEANT [to THADDEUS]. Come along, man. I'll have a look at the upstairs. [To MARY.] You sit down in that chair [points to the chair at right of table, and feeling for a sufficiently strong threat]. Don't you stir or I'll-I'll set fire to your house. [To THADDEUS.] Go on ahead.

[THADDEUS and the SERGEANT go upstairs. MARY sinks almost lifelessly into the chair. She is the picture of fear. She sits facing left. Suddenly she leans forward. The door left is being opened. She opens her eyes wide and draws her breath sharply. She opens her mouth as though she would scream, but makes no sound. The NORTHERNER comes slowly and cautiously through the door. (DICK cannot see him because of the jog in the wall.) MARY only stares in bewilderment at the NORTHERNER, as the man, with eyes fixed appealingly on her, opens the door to the cubby-hole and crawls inside.]

DICK. Woman!

MARY [almost with a cry-thinking that DICK has seen the NORTHERNER]. Yes.

DICK. Have you got an apple handy? I'm starved. [MARY moves to the cupboard to get the apple for DICK. The SERGEANT and THADDEUS come downstairs. The SERGEANT, seeing that MARY is not where he left her, looks about quickly and discovers her at the cupboard.]

SERGEANT. Here, what'd I tell you I'd do if you moved from that chair?

MARY [with great fear]. Oh, I didn't-I only-he wanted--

DICK. It's all right, Sergeant. I asked her to get me an apple.

SERGEANT. Dick, take this lantern and search the barn. [DICK takes the lantern from the SERGEANT and goes out back.] [To THADDEUS.] Come in here with me. [Takes the candle from centre table.] [The SERGEANT and THADDEUS move toward the door left. As though in a stupor, MARY starts to follow.] Sit down! [MARY falls into the chair at the right of the centre table. The SERGEANT and THADDEUS go into the room at left. They can be heard moving furniture about. MARY'S eyes fall on a pin on the floor. She bends over, picks it up, and fastens it in her belt. The SERGEANT and THADDEUS return.]

SERGEANT. If I find him now, after all the trouble you've given me, you know what'll happen. There's likely to be two dead men and a woman, instead of only the Yankee.

DICK [bounding into the room]. Sergeant!

SERGEANT. What is it? [DICK hurries to the SERGEANT and says something in a low voice to him. Satisfaction shows on the latter's face.]

SERGEANT. Now my good people, how did that horse get here?

THADDEUS. What horse?

DICK. There's a horse in the barn with a saddle on his back. I swear he's been ridden lately.

THADDEUS [amazed]. There is?

SERGEANT. You know it. [To MARY.] Come, woman, who drove that horse here?

MARY [silent for a moment-her eyes on the floor]. I don't know. I didn't hear nothin'.

THADDEUS [moving in the direction of the door back]. Let me go an' see.

SERGEANT [pushing THADDEUS back]. No, you don't. You two have done enough to justify the harshest measures. Show us the man's hiding-place.

THADDEUS. If there's anybody here, he's come in the night without our knowin' it. I tell ye I didn't see anybody, an' she didn't, an'--

SERGEANT [has been watching MARY]. Where is he? [The SERGEANT'S tone makes THADDEUS jump. There is a pause, during which MARY seems trying to compose herself. Then slowly, she lifts her eyes and looks at the SERGEANT.]

MARY. There ain't nobody in the house 'cept us two.

SERGEANT [to DICK]. Did you search all the outbuildings?

DICK. Yes. There's not a trace of him except the horse.

SERGEANT [wiping the perspiration from his face; speaks with apparent deliberation at first, but increases to great strength and emphasis]. He didn't have much of a start of us, and I think he was wounded. A farmer down the road said he heard hoof-beats. The man the other side of you heard nothing, and the horse is in your barn. [Slowly draws revolver, and points it at THADDEUS.] There are ways of making people confess.

THADDEUS [covering his face with his hands]. For God's sake, don't. I know that horse looks bad-but as I live I ain't heard a sound, or seen anybody. I'd give the man up in a minute if he was here.

SERGEANT [lowering his gun]. Yes, I guess you would. You wouldn't want me to hand you and your wife over to our army to be shot down like dogs. [MARY shivers.] [Swings round sharply, and points the gun at MARY.] Your wife knows where he's hid.

MARY [breaking out in irritating, rasping voice]. I'm sure I wish I did. An' I'd tell ye quick, an' git ye out of here. 'Tain't no fun fer me to have ye prowlin' all over my house. Ye ain't got no right t' torment me like this. Lord knows how I'll git my day's work done, if I can't have my sleep.

SERGEANT [has been gazing at her in astonishment; lowers his gun]. Good God, what a clod! Nothing but her own petty existence. [In different voice to MARY.] I'll have to ask you to get us something to eat. We're famished. [With relief, but showing some anger, MARY turns to the stove. She lights the fire, and puts more coffee in the pot.]

SERGEANT. Come, Dick, we better give our poor horses some water. They're all tired out. [In lower voice.] The man isn't here. If he were, he couldn't get away while we're in the yard. [To THADDEUS.] Get us a pail to give the horses some water. [Sees the pails on the bench. Picks one of them up and moves toward the door.]

MARY. That ain't the horses' pail.

SERGEANT [to THADDEUS]. Come along, you can help.

MARY [louder]. That's the drinkin' water pail.

SERGEANT. That's all right.

[The SERGEANT, DICK, and THADDEUS go out back. MARY needs more wood for the fire, so she follows them in a moment. When she has disappeared, the NORTHERNER drags himself from the cubby-hole. He looks as though he would fall with exhaustion. MARY returns with an armful of wood.]

MARY [sees the NORTHERNER. Shows no sympathy for the man in this speech, nor during the entire scene]. Ye git back! Them soldiers'll see ye.

NORTHERNER. Some water. Quick. [Falls into chair at left of table.] It was so hot in there.

MARY [gives him water in the dipper]. Don't ye faint here. If them soldiers git ye, they'll kill me an' Thad. Hustle an' git back in the cubby-hole. [MARY turns quickly to the stove. The NORTHERNER drinks the water; puts dipper on table, then, summoning all his strength, rises and crosses to MARY. He touches her on the shoulder. MARY is so startled, that she jumps and utters a faint cry.]

NORTHERNER. Be still, or they'll hear you. How are you going to get me out of this?

MARY [angrily]. Ye git out. Why did ye come here, a-bringin' me all this extra work, an' maybe death?

NORTHERNER. I couldn't go any farther. My horse and I were both near dropping. Won't you help me?

MARY. No, I won't. I don't know who ye are or nothin' 'bout ye, 'cept that them men want t' ketch ye. [In a changed tone of curiosity.] Did ye steal somethin' from 'em?

NORTHERNER. Don't you understand? Those men belong to the Confederacy, and I'm a Northerner. They've been chasing me all day. [Pulling a bit of crumpled paper from his breast.] They want this paper. If they get it before to-morrow morning it will mean the greatest disaster that's ever come to the Union army.

MARY [with frank curiosity]. Was it ye rode by yesterday?

NORTHERNER. Don't you see what you can do? Get me out of here and away from those men, and you'll have done more than any soldier could do for the country-for your country.

MARY. I ain't got no country. Me an' Thad's only got this farm. Thad's ailin', an' I do most the work, an'--

NORTHERNER. The lives of thirty thousand men hang by a thread. I must save them. And you must help me.

MARY. I don't know nothin' 'bout ye, an' I don't know what ye're talkin' 'bout.

NORTHERNER. Only help me get away.

MARY [angrily]. No one ever helped me or Thad. I lift no finger in this business. Why ye come here in the first place is beyond me-sneakin' round our house, spoilin' our well-earned sleep. If them soldiers ketch ye, they'll kill me an' Thad. Maybe ye didn't know that.

NORTHERNER. What's your life and your husband's compared to thirty thousand! I haven't any money or I'd give it to you.

MARY. I don't want yer money.

NORTHERNER. What do you want?

MARY. I want ye t' git away. I don't care what happens t' ye. Only git out of here.

NORTHERNER. I can't with the Southerners in the yard. They'd shoot me like a dog. Besides, I've got to have my horse.

MARY [with naive curiosity]. What kind o' lookin' horse is it?

NORTHERNER [dropping into chair at left of centre table in disgust and despair]. O God! If I'd only turned in at the other farm. I might have found people with red blood. [Pulls out his gun, and hopelessly opens the empty chamber.]

MARY [alarmed]. What ye goin' t' do with that gun?

NORTHERNER. Don't be afraid. It's not load--

MARY. I'd call 'em in, if I wasn't--

NORTHERNER [leaping to the wall left and bracing himself against it]. Go call them in. Save your poor skin and your husband's if you can. Call them in. You can't save yourself. [Laughs hysterically.] You can't save your miserable skin. Cause if they get me, and don't shoot you, I will.

MARY [leans against left side of centre table for support; in agony]. Oh!

NORTHERNER. You see, you've got to help me whether you want to or not.

MARY [feeling absolutely caught]. I ain't done nothin'. I don't see why ye an' them others come here a threatenin' t' shoot me. I don't want nothin'. I don't want t' do nothin'. I jest want ye all t' git out a here an' leave me an' Thad t' go t' sleep. Oh, I don't know what t' do. Ye got me in a corner where I can't move. [Passes her hand back along the table. Touches the dipper accidentally, and it falls to the floor. Screams at the sound.]

NORTHERNER [leaping toward her]. Now you've done it. They'll be here in a minute. You can't give me up. They'll shoot you if you do. They'll shoot. [Hurries up the stairs, and disappears from sight.]

[MARY stands beside the table, trembling terribly. The SERGEANT, DICK, and THADDEUS come running in.]

SERGEANT. What did you yell for? [No answer.] [Seizing her by the arm.] Answer!

MARY. I knocked the dipper off the table. It scared me.

SERGEANT [dropping wearily into chair at left of centre table]. Well, don't drop our breakfast. Put it on the table. We're ready.

MARY [stands gazing at him]. It ain't finished.

OFFICER [worn out by his day's work and MARY'S stupidity, from now on absolutely brutish]. You've had time to cook a dozen meals. You're as slow as a snail. What did you do all the time we were in the barn?

MARY. I didn't do nothin'.

SERGEANT. You lazy female. Now get a move on, and give us something fit to eat. Don't try to get rid of any left-overs on us. If you do, you'll suffer for it.

[MARY stands looking at him.] Don't you know anything, you brainless farm-drudge? Hurry, I said.

[MARY turns to the stove. THADDEUS sits in chair at left of smaller table.]

DICK. What a night. My stomach's as hollow as these people's heads. [Takes towel which hangs above the bench and wipes the barrel of his gun with it.]

MARY [sees DICK]. That's one of my best towels.

DICK. Can't help it.

SERGEANT. 'Tend to the breakfast. That's enough for you to do at one time.

[DICK puts his gun on the smaller table, and sits at right of centre table.]

SERGEANT [quietly to DICK]. I don't see how he gave us the slip.

DICK. He knew we were after him, and drove his horse in here, and went on afoot. Clever scheme, I must admit.

THADDEUS [endeavoring to get them into conversation]. Have ye rid far to-night, misters?

DICK [shortly]. Far enough.

THADDEUS. Twenty miles or so?

DICK. Perhaps.

THADDEUS. How long ye been chasin' the critter?

SERGEANT. Shut up, man! Don't you see we don't want to talk to you. Take hold and hurry, woman. My patience's at an end.

[MARY puts a loaf of bread, some fried eggs, and a coffee pot on the table.]

MARY. There! I hope ye're satisfied.

[The SERGEANT and DICK pull their chairs to the table, and begin to eat.]

SERGEANT. Is this all we get? Come, it won't do you any good to be stingy. [Obviously, from now on, everything the SERGEANT says drives MARY nearer madness.]

MARY. It's all I got.

SERGEANT. It isn't a mouthful for a chickadee! Give us some butter.

MARY. There ain't none.

SERGEANT. No butter on a farm? God, the way you lie!

MARY. I- SERGEANT. Shut up!

DICK. Have you got any cider?

SERGEANT. Don't ask. She and the man probably drank themselves stupid on it. [Throws fork on floor.] I never struck such a place in my life. Get me another fork. How do you expect me to eat with that bent thing?

[MARY stoops with difficulty and picks up the fork. Gets another from the cupboard and gives it to the SERGEANT.]

SERGEANT. Now give us some salt. Don't you know that folks eat it on eggs?

[MARY crosses to the cupboard; mistakes the pepper for the salt, and puts it on the table.]

SERGEANT [sprinkles pepper on his food]. I said salt, woman! [Spelling.] S-A-L-T. Salt! Salt!

[MARY goes to the cupboard; returns to the table with the salt. Almost ready to drop, she drags herself to the window nearer back, and leans against it, watching the SOUTHERNERS like a hunted animal. THADDEUS sits nodding in the corner. The SERGEANT and DICK go on devouring the food. The SERGEANT pours the coffee. Puts his cup to his lips, takes one swallow; then, jumping to his feet and upsetting his chair as he does so, he hurls his cup to the floor. The crash of china stirs THADDEUS. MARY shakes in terror.]

SERGEANT [bellowing and pointing to the fluid trickling on the floor]. Have you tried to poison us, you God damn hag?

[MARY screams, and the faces of the men turn white. It is like the cry of the animal goaded beyond endurance.]

MARY [screeching]. Call my coffee poison, will ye? Call me a hag? I'll learn ye! I'm a woman, and ye're drivin' me crazy. [Snatches the gun from the wall, points it at the SERGEANT, and fires. Keeps on screeching. The SERGEANT falls to the floor. DICK rushes for his gun.]

THADDEUS. Mary! Mary!

MARY [aiming at DICK, and firing]. I ain't a hag, I'm a woman, but ye're killin' me.

[DICK falls just as he reaches his gun. THADDEUS is in the corner with his hands over his ears. The NORTHERNER stands on the stairs. MARY continues to pull the trigger of the empty gun. The NORTHERNER is motionless for a moment; then he goes to THADDEUS, and shakes him.]

NORTHERNER. Go get my horse, quick!

[THADDEUS obeys. The NORTHERNER turns to MARY. She gazes at him, but does not understand a word he says.]

NORTHERNER [with great fervor]. I'm ashamed of what I said. The whole country will hear of this, and you. [Takes her hand, and presses it to his lips; then turns and hurries out of the house. MARY still holds the gun in her hand. She pushes a strand of gray hair back from her face, and begins to pick up the fragments of the broken coffee cup.]

MARY [in dead, flat tone]. I'll have to drink out the tin cup now.

[The hoof-beats of the NORTHERNER'S horse are heard.]

Curtain.

* * *

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