Second Plays Part 13

They are away so much. Well, I was telling you about Oliver. I think it would be better if you knew at once that--he doesn't like rice-pudding.

TUA-HEETA. Rice-poodeeng?

JILL. Yes, he hates it. It is very important that you should remember that. Then there's another thing--(An untidy looking servant comes in.

Can it be--can it possibly be AUNT JANE? Horrors!) He dislikes--Oh, there you are, Jane. You've been a very long time answering the bell.

AUNT JANE. I'm so sorry ma'am, I was just dressing.

JILL. Excuses, Jane, always excuses. Leave me. Take a week's notice.

(To TUA-HEETA) YOU must excuse my maid. She's very stupid. Tea at once, Jane. (AUNT JANE sniffs and goes off) What was I saying? Oh yes, about Oliver. He doesn't care for cod-liver oil in the way that some men do. You would be wise not to force it on him just at first. . . .

Have you any idea where you are going to live?

TUA-HEETA. Live? (These dusky maidens are no conversationalists.)

JILL. I expect Oliver will wish to reside at Hammersmith, so convenient for the City. You'll like Hammersmith. You'll go to St.

Paul's Church, I expect. The Vicar will be sure to call. (Enter AUNT JANE with small tea-table.) Ah, here's tea. (To JANE) You're very slow, Jane.

AUNT JANE. I'm sorry, ma'am.

JILL. It's no good being sorry. Take another week's notice. (To TUA-HEETA) You must forgive my talking to my maid. She wants such a lot of looking after. (JANE puts down the table) That will do, Jane, (JANE b.u.mps against the table) Dear, dear, how clumsy you are. What wages am I giving you now?

AUNT JANE. A shilling a month, ma'am.

JILL. Well, we'd better make it ninepence. (JANE goes out in tears.) Servants are a great nuisance, aren't they? Jane is a peculiarly stupid person. She used to be aunt to my brother, and I have only taken her on out of charity. (She pours out from an imaginary tea-pot) Milk? Sugar? (She puts them in and hands the imaginary cup to TUA-HEETA.)

TUA-HEETA. Thank you. (Drinks.)

JILL (pouring herself a cup). I hope you like China. (She drinks, and then rings an imaginary bell) Well, as I was saying---(Enter AUNT JANE.) You can clear away, Jane.

AUNT JANE. Yes, ma'am.

(She clears away the tea and TUA-HEETA and--very quickly--herself, as OLIVER comes back. OLIVER has been discussing boarding-tactics with his brother-in-law. CAPTAIN CROOKSHANK belongs to the now old-fashioned Marlinspike School; OLIVER is for well-primed pistols.)

JILL. Oh, Oliver, I love your island. I've been thinking things all by myself. You're married to Tua-heeta. You don't mind, do you?

OLIVER. Not at all, Jill. Make yourself at home. I've just been trying the doctor in the lagoon. There _were_ sharks there, after all, so we'll have to find another place for bathing. Oh, and I shot an elephant. What would you like to do now?

JILL. Just let's lie here and see what happens. (What happens is that a ca.s.sowary comes along.) Oh, what a lovely bird! Is it an ostrich?

(The ca.s.sowary sniffs the air, puts its beak to the ground and goes off again.)

OLIVER. Silly! It's a ca.s.sowary, of course.

JILL. What's a ca.s.sowary?

OLIVER. Jill! Don't you remember the rhyme?

I wish I were a ca.s.sowary Upon the plains of Timbuctoo And then I'd eat a missionary-- And hat and gloves and hymn-book too!

JILL. Is that all they're for?

OLIVER. Well, what else would you want them for?

(A MISSIONARY, pith-helmet, gloves, hymn-book, umbrella, all complete--creeps cautiously up. He bears a strong likeness to the curate, the REVEREND SMILAX.)

MISSIONARY. I am sorry to intrude upon your privacy, dear friends, but have you observed a ca.s.sowary on this island, apparently looking for something?

OLIVER. Yes, we saw one just now.

MISSIONARY (shuddering). Dear, dear, dear. You didn't happen to ask him what was the object of his researches?

JILL. He went so quickly.

MISSIONARY (coming out of the undergrowth to them). I wonder if you have ever heard of a little rhyme which apparently attributes to the bird in question, when residing in the level pastures of Timbuctoo, an unholy l.u.s.t for the body and appurtenances thereto of an unnamed clerical gentleman?

OLIVER and JILL (shouting together). Yes! Rather!

MISSIONARY. Dear, dear! Fortunately--I say fortunately--this is not Timbuctoo! (OLIVER slips away and comes back with a notice-board "Timbuctoo," which he places at the edge of the trees, unseen by the MISSIONARY, who goes on talking to JILL) I take it that a ca.s.sowary residing in other lat.i.tudes is of a more temperate habit. His appet.i.te, I venture to suggest, dear lady, would be under better restraint. That being so, I may perhaps safely---- (He begins to move off, and comes suddenly up to the notice-board) Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear! This is terrible! You said, I think, that the--ah--bird in question was moving in _this_ direction?

OLIVER. That's right.

MISSIONARY. Then I shall move, hastily yet with all due precaution, in _that_ direction. (He walks off on tiptoe, looking over his shoulder in case the ca.s.sowary should reappear. Consequently, he does not observe the enormous CANNIBAL who has appeared from the trees on the right, until he b.u.mps into him) I beg your---- (He looks up) Dear, dear, dear, dear, dear!

CANNIBAL. Boria, boria, boo!

MISSIONARY. Yes, my dear sir, it is as you say, a beautiful morning.

CANNIBAL. Boria, boria, boo!

MISSIONARY. But I was just going a little walk--in this direction--if you will permit me.

CANNIBAL (threateningly). Boria, boria, boo!

MISSIONARY. I have noticed it, my dear sir, I have often made that very observation to my parishioners.

CANNIBAL (very threateningly). Boria, boria, boo!

MISSIONARY. Oh, what's he saying?

OLIVER. He says it's his birthday to-morrow.

CANNIBAL. Wurra, wurra wug!

OLIVER. And will you come to the party?

MISSIONARY (to CANNIBAL). My dear sir, it is most kind of you to invite me, but a prior engagement in a different part of the country--a totally unexpected call upon me in another locality--will unfortunately----

(While he is talking, the ca.s.sowary comes back, sidles up to him, and taps with his beak on the MISSIONARY'S pith-helmet.)