Betsy Baker! or, Too Attentive by Half; A Farce, in One Act

MOUS. Then the more creditable in your Marmaduke to try and get a few. (in a solemn tone) Anastasia, we live in a wonderful age. Every thing we see above us, below us, and all round about us, proclaims the triumph of mind over matter.

MRS. M. (yawns slightly) Well, I don’t deny it, do I?

MOUS. You can’t deny it. Look at the Railroads--oblige me by looking at the Railroads, with their gigantic viaducts, their stupendous aqueducts--look at the Electric Telegraph over the Straits of Menai--look at the Tubular Bridge under the Straits of Dover! And how--how is this done? By perseverance--by determination! And shall I flinch from a paltry obstacle? Never! So here goes again! (very loud) “Ya--oo--oo!”

MRS. M. (listening) Hark!

MOUS. What?

MRS. M. I thought I heard my dear Cousin Crummy outside. But of course that would give you no gratification.

MOUS. You wrong me, Anastasia. As long as your Cousin Crummy is outside, and keeps outside, I don’t care how often I hear him.

MRS. M. (severely) Mr. Mouser!

MOUS. Understand me, Anastasia, I mean no disrespect to your Cousin Crummy--on the contrary, Crummy’s a man I like--but Crummy’s like many other good things in this world, a little of him goes a long way. In short, he gives us too much of his society.

MRS. M. Because he sees we are so much alone.

MOUS. But we never are alone. Crummy won’t let us be alone.

MRS. M. Well, isn’t it natural that he should drop in upon us? Isn’t he your partner in the business? Isn’t he one of the firm, Mouser and Crummy, Attorneys-at-law?

MOUS. Yes, and why? Because you chose to fancy that my practice was more than I could get through, and that I required a partner.

MRS. M. I confess I did, and you took him in.

MOUS. I beg your pardon--he took me in; and pretty considerably too, for he pockets half the profits, and leaves me all the work.

MRS. M. How can you say so? Isn’t he gone out on business now--and all the way to Pentonville, too?

MOUS. All the way from Islington to Pentonville!

MRS. M. Then why didn’t you go yourself? (rises)

MOUS. And leave you, my ’Stasia? (tenderly) You that I adore with a degree of intensity closely bordering on insanity! Besides, it isn’t because a Mrs. Jones from Northamptonshire--a Jones I don’t know--a Jones I never saw--a Jones I never even heard of, chooses to send for me, that therefore I must go to that Jones, Jones can’t expect it!

MRS. M. (R.) But no doubt she wishes to consult you on business, and she might prove an excellent client.

MOUS. (L.) I hate business! I hate clients! I hate everything in the world but you, my ’Stasia. What’s the world to me? Nothing! What are its “gay and festive scenes, its halls of dazzling light” to me? Nothing! Oh, ’Stasia! ’Stasia!

MRS. M. What nonsense you talk. One would suppose we had only been married a week instead of a year. Has any one been here for me?

MOUS. (eagerly) Any one! Not that I know of. Who do you expect?

MRS. M. Why only the laundress with my veil. She promised faithfully to let me have it to-day. When you go out, perhaps you will just call, and say I’m waiting for it. It’s only just over the way.