I make no charges, but this I ask,—
What made such a splurge in the waste-water cask?
You are quite tender-hearted. Oh, not a doubt!
But only suppose old Black Pond could speak out.
Oh, bother! don’t mutter excuses to me:
Qui facit per alium facit per se.”
“Well, Kitty, I think full enough has been said,
And the best thing for you is go straight back to bed.
A very fine pass
Things have come to, my lass,
If men must be meek
While pussy-cats speak
Great moral reflections in Latin and Greek!”
—_Our Young Folks._
CHAPTER X.
PARODIES—REVIEWS—CHILDREN’S POEMS—COMEDIES BY WOMEN—A DRAMATIC TRIFLE—A STRING OF FIRECRACKERS.
It is surprising that we have so few comedies from women. Dr. Doran mentions five Englishwomen who wrote successful comedies. Of these, three are now forgotten; one, Aphra Behn, is remembered only to be despised for her vulgarity. She was an undoubted wit, and was never dull, but so wicked and coarse that she forfeited all right to fame.
Susanna Centlivre left nineteen plays full of vivacity and fun and lively incident. The Bold Stroke for a Wife is now considered her best. The Basset Table is also a superior comedy, especially interesting because it anticipates the modern blue-stocking in Valeria, a philosophical girl who supports vivisection, and has also a prophecy of exclusive colleges for women.
There is nothing worthy of quotation in any of these comedies. Some sentences from Mrs. Centlivre’s plays are given in magazine articles to prove her wit, but we say so much brighter things in these days that they must be considered stale platitudes, as:
“You may cheat widows, orphans, and tradesmen without a blush, but a debt of honor, sir, must be paid.”
“Quarrels, like mushrooms, spring up in a moment.”
“Woman is the greatest sovereign power in the world.”
Hans Andersen in his Autobiography mentions a Madame von Weissenthurn, who was a successful actress and dramatist. Her comedies are published in fourteen volumes. In our country several comedies written by women, but published anonymously, have been decided hits. Mrs. Verplanck’s Sealed Instructions was a marked success, and years ago Fashion, by Anna Cora Mowatt, had a remarkable run. By the way, those roaring farces, Belles of the Kitchen and Fun in a Fog, were written for the Vokes family by an aunt of theirs. And I must not forget to state that Gilbert’s Palace of Truth was cribbed almost bodily from Madame de Genlis’s “Tales of an Old Castle.” Mrs. Julia Schayer, of Washington, has given us a domestic drama in one act, entitled Struggling Genius.
STRUGGLING GENIUS.
Dramatis Personae.
MRS. ANASTASIUS.
GIRL OF TEN YEARS.
GIRL OF TWO YEARS.
MR. ANASTASIUS.
GIRL OF EIGHT YEARS.
INFANT OF THREE MONTHS.
ACT I.
SCENE I. NURSERY.
[_Time, eight o’clock A.M. In the background nurse making bed, etc.; Girl of Two amusing herself surreptitiously with pins, buttons, scissors, etc.; Girl of Eight practising piano in adjoining room; Mrs. A. in foreground performing toilet of infant. Having lain awake half the preceding night wrestling with the plot of a new novel for which rival publishers are waiting with outstretched hands (full of checks), Mrs. A. believes she has hit upon an effective scene, and burns to commit it to paper. Washes infant with feverish haste._]
Mrs. A. (_soliloquizing_). Let me see! How was it? Oh! “Olga raised her eyes with a sweetly serious expression. Harold gazed moodily at her calm face. It was not the expression that he longed to see there. He would have preferred to see—” Good gracious, Maria! That child’s mouth is full of buttons! “He would have preferred—preferred—” (_Loudly._) Leonora! That F’s to be sharped! There, there, mother’s sonny boy! Did mamma drop the soap into his mouth instead of the wash-bowl? There, there! (_Sings._) “There’s a land that is fairer than this,” etc.
[_Infant quiet._
Mrs. A. (_resuming_). “He would have preferred—preferred—” Maria, don’t you see that child has got the scissors? “He would have—” There now, let mamma put on its little socks. Now it’s all dressed so nice and clean. Don’ty ky! No, don’ty! Leonora! Put more accent on the first beat. “Harold gazed moodily into—” His bottle, Maria! Quick! He’ll scream himself into fits!
[_Exit nurse. Baby having got both fists into his mouth beguiles
himself into quiet._
Mrs. A. Let me see! How was it? Oh! “Harold gazed moodily into her calm, sweet face. It was not the expression he would have liked to find there. He would have preferred—” (_Shriek from girl of two._) Oh, dear me! She has shut her darling fingers in the drawer! Come to mamma, precious love, and sit on mamma’s lap, and we’ll sing about little pussy.
Enter nurse with bottle. Curtain falls.
SCENE II. STUDY.
[_Three hours later; infant and Girl of Two asleep; house in order; lunch and dinner arranged; buttons sewed on Girl of Eight’s boots, string on Girl of Ten’s hood, and both dispatched to school, etc. Enter Mrs. A. Draws a long sigh of relief and seats herself at desk. Reads a page of Dickens and a poem or two to attune herself for work. Seizes pen, scribbles erratically a few seconds and begins to write._]
Mrs. A. (_after some moments_). I think that is good. Let us hear how it reads. (_Reads aloud._) “He would have preferred to find more passion in those deep, dark eyes. Had he then no part in the maiden meditations of this fair, innocent girl—he whom proud beauties of society vied with each other to win? He could not guess. A stray breeze laden with violet and hyacinth perfume stole in at the open window, ruffling the soft waves of auburn hair which shaded her alabaster forehead.” It seems to me I have read something similar before, but it is good, anyhow. “Harold could not endure this placid, unruffled calm. His own veins were full of molten lava. With a wild and passionate cry he—”
Enter cook bearing a large, dripping piece of corned beef.
Cook. Please, Miss Anastasy, is dis de kin’ of a piece ye done wanted? I thought I’d save ye de trouble o’ comin’ down.
Mrs. A. (_desperately_). It is!
[_Exit cook, staring wildly._
Mrs. A. (_resuming_). “With a wild, passionate cry, he—”
Re-enter cook.
Cook. Ten cents for de boy what put in de wood, please, ma’am!
[_Mrs. A. gives money; exit cook. Mrs. A., sighing, takes up MS. Clock strikes twelve; soon after the lunch-bell rings._]
Voice of Girl of Ten, calling: Mamma, why don’t you come to lunch?
SCENE III. DINING-ROOM.
Enter Mrs. A.
Girl of Ten. Oh, what a mean lunch! Nothing but bread and ham. I hate bread and ham! All the girls have jelly-cake. Why don’t we have jelly-cake? We used to have jelly-cake.
Mrs. A. You can have some pennies to buy ginger-snaps.
Girl of Ten. I hate ginger-snaps! When are you going to make jelly-cake?
Mrs. A. (_sternly_). When my book is done.
Girl of Ten (_with inexpressible meaning_): Hm!
Curtain falls.
SCENE IV. STUDY.