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THE SCARING OFF OF TEDDY DAWSON

A Comedy In One Act

By Harold Brighouse

London: Samuel French, Ltd

1911

[Illustration: 0007]





THE SCARING OFF OF TEDDY DAWSON

_Living room of a small house in an East End sidestreet. Door direct to
street back centre. Next it, window. Door to house l. Kitchen range R.
Dresser with crockery l. Centre is a table. Four deal chairs. At the
table Polly Bettesworth is ironing as the curtain rises. She is no more
than fifty, but a hard life has aged her in appearance beyond her years.
A cheap serge skirt and a dark printed blouse, with elastic-sided boots,
form her visible attire. Her husband (Andrew) throws open the door c.
and enters rapidly from street. He is a navvy, dressed in corduroy, with
a leather belt, and is in his shirt sleeves, having been to the nearest
public for the supper beer, which is in a large jug in his hand He is a
large man, and Polly seems small by con-start. It is evening, but still
light._

*****

Andrew (_angrily_). Where's our Liza?

Polly. What do yer want 'er for?

Andrew (_closing door_). I'm goin' to tan 'er 'ide for 'er.

Polly. What's to do? (_Calmly continuing ironing_)

Andrew (_crossing to door l._). I'll put beer in back to keep cool an'
then I'll tell yer. (_Opens left door, leaves jug inside and closes door
again._) Now, do yer know wot I've bin 'earing in the _Bluebell_ abart
our Liza?

Polly. Tell me.

Andrew. Liza's started courtin'! That's wot that whistlin's bin as we've
bin 'earing so much lately.

Polly (_stopping ironing_). Courtin'! At 'er age?

Andrew. It's Gawd's truth. Wait while I catch the bloke wot's after 'er.
I'll skin 'im alive.

Polly (_sitting_). Liza courtin'! I don't know wot things is comin' to
nowadays. Young girls are gettin' a set of forward hussies that haven't
hardly laid by their skipping-ropes afore they're thinkin' they're ould
enough to get wed. I fancied we'd brought 'er up different to that.

Andrew. I'll fancy 'er--'er an' 'er fancy man, an' all. I'll teach 'im
to come round 'ere whistling for our Liza. We ain't partin' with Liza
yet. She's the only 'un left to us now.

Polly. Yus. T'other girls went off a sight too young. Fust Martha an'
then Sally must be havin' their blokes an' gettin' wed. But I didn't
think it of Liza. She's kept 'er mouth shut. Them quiet 'uns are always
deep.

Andrew. Nature 'ull 'ave its way with 'em so what you do. (_Fiercely._)
But I'll spoil this chap's little game. I don't like 'im, not arf like
'im I don't.

Polly. Who is 'e?

Andrew. Teddy Dawson's 'is name.

Polly (_rising_). Teddy Dawson! Wild as they make 'em that chap is. 'E's
after no good with Liza.

Andrew. I'll mar 'is good looks if I catch 'im. 'E'll not be so keen on
comin' an' whistlin' at street corner like a canary in a fit. And I'll
give Liza the taste of my strap an' all.

Polly (_firmly_). Yer'll not touch the girl. Andrew.

Andrew. Who won't?

Polly. I'll give 'er a piece of my mind.

Andrew. An' I'll give 'er a piece of my belt.

Polly. Yer won't. Me an' yer didn't arsk our old 'uns for leave to start
courtin'. Liza ull go the way o' all flesh when 'er time comes.

Andrew. Yus, but 'er time ain't come yet, not by a bloomin' long chalk,
an' I'll make 'er know it.

Polly. Yer leave Liza to me. Yer can do wot yer loike with Teddy Dawson
an' welcome.

Andrew. I'll make 'im wish 'e'd never bin born.

Polly. I dunno. Yer've tried that road twice--with Martha's man an'
Sally's.

Andrew (_reminiscently, gloating_). I did an' all. They didn't 'ave much
of a larky toime courtin'. I put strap abart both of 'em more than once.

Polly. An' they only came the more.

Andrew. Yus. They was spunky fellows. This bloke 'ull not take it that
way. 'E'll cut an' run.

Polly. I'm not so sure it's the right road to scare 'em off.

Andrew. It's the only road I knows of. Do yer think yer knows a better?

Polly. I dunno as I do. Hush! There's Liza comin' downstairs. Now, keep
yer mouth shut till I've had my say.

(_Enter l. Liza, a girl of sixteen, with black alpaca skirt to her
ankles, gaudy stockings, cheap "flash" shoes, a purple blouse and a hat
with coster feathers._)

Polly. My word, Liza, yer do make yerself smart for evenin's. Yer might
be courtin' the way yer've decked yerself.

Liza. There's no 'arm in puttin' on a bit of finery, is there, mother?
If yer've got things, yer might as well show 'em. Don't do 'em no good
to lie by in a drawer.

Polly. Be careful, girl. Yer'll 'ave some fellow takin' a fancy to yer
if yer go down the Mile End Road in that gear. Foine feathers don't make
foine birds. (_Liza tosses her head._)

Andrew. Birds! Yus. Puts me in moind of that crazed canary wot comes
rahnd the 'ouse whistlin' of an evenin'. (_A whistle pipes a little tune
at back._) Rot it! There's the darned thing now. (_Unbuckling belt._)
I'll make 'im whistle if I catch 'im. (_Liza runs to door c. to stop
his way._) Now-then, Liza, out of my way if yer don't want a taste of
this yerself. (_Swings strap round._) 'Ere, if yer've nothin' ter do in
the 'ouse get orf to bed. Yer'll not go out this night. (_Exit swinging
strap. Liza sits with her handkerchief to her eyes._)

Polly (_softly_). Wot's to do with yer, Liza?

Liza. Oh 'e'll 'urt 'im.

Polly. 'Urt who? Is any one there?

Lisa. I--I don't know.

Polly (_roughly_). Yus yer do, yer young deceiver. Yer think yer've got
a feller--yer that's just abart goin' into long skirts. I dunno what the
world's comin' to. Young girls is that forward.

Liza (_rising_). Will father 'urt 'im?

Polly (_grimly_). Depends which on 'em's the better man.

Liza (_tearfully_). Oh!

Polly (_kindly_). I dunno that 'e'll do 'im much 'urt. 'E only means to
frighten 'im orf comin' rahnd tryin' to court a girl that's too young
to know wot marryin' means. Yer silly girl! Toime 'ul come soon enough.
'Ere, dry yer eyes an' come to yer mother. When proper time comes,
yer'll not foind us backward at lettin' yer go. It's not come yet by
years. Yer taken by 'is looks an' 'is bold ways. It ain't looks as make
a man. This 'un's one of them sort as bring woe to a girl wot's fool
enough to wed 'em. 'E's your fust, but yer not 'is fust, not by many a
one.

Liza (_indignantly_). 'E says I am.

Polly. Hark to that now. Creditin' anything a feller tells yer when 'e's
lurin' yer to 'is arms. (_The whistle pipes l. Liza hears it and jerks
up her head. Polly fails to notice it._) Eh, not that I blame yer so
much, yer too young to know different. P'raps yer'd best go to yer
bed, as yer father said, an' ave yer cry out. Yer'll be better in the
mornin'.

Liza (_with a quick look off l. in the direction of the whistling_).
All right, mother. (_She reaches the door, losses her head defiantly
and exit l. Polly gets some matches and is about to light the gas when
Andrew opens the door c. and returns buckling on his belt. It is growing
gradually darker. Polly puts the match box down unused._)

Polly. Well, 'ave yer trounced 'im?

Andrew. No. 'E dodged me some'ow an I 'eard is darned whistle goin'
impudent afterward I reckon 'e wants to get 'er out, but I'll watch 'im
at it.

Polly. Liza's gorn to bed to 'ave 'er cry out. She'll get over it by
mornin'. Young 'uns don't take love bad. (_Whistle sounds off l._)

Andrew (_moving to door c._). Darn 'im for a piece of brassen impudence!
If I don't break an' spoil 'is whistle for 'im, my name's not Andrew
Bettesworth. I'll raise a lump on 'is thick 'ead big enough for 'im to
'ang 'is 'at on.

Polly (_detaining him with her hand on his arm_). I'm not so sure,
Andrew. I've bin thinkin' as that's not right road o' dealin' with 'im.

Andrew. Right or wrong, 'e'll feel the weight of my belt with my arm
behind it when I catch 'im.

Polly. I'll tell yer wot I'm thinkin. Yer leathered the fellers wot came
after Martha an' Sally, but it didn't choke 'em orf. Made 'em all the
keener. Made 'em think the girls was jewels, or yer'd not make so much
fuss abart lettin' go of 'em. Let this feller think the girl's a wrong
'un an' 'e'll cool orf quick enough.

Andrew. Well, so they are jewels, an' Liza's the best of the bunch.

Polly. Yus, o' course she is, but you don't need to let 'im know it.
Make 'im think yer'd be glad to get shut of 'er. Then 'e'll start
thinkin' there's somethin' wrong abart the girl an' lave er' alone.

Andrew. (_shaking her off_). Garn, that's all woman's bunkum. It takes
a man to dal with a job like this 'ere. Wot 'e wants is a thick ear an'
I'll stick it out till I catch 'im an' give it 'im an all.

(_Unbuckling his belt and going out centre. Polly removes her ironing
from table. Suddenly she assumes a listenin attitude, then tiptoes
to the door L. and opens it quietly. Teddy and Liza are standing just
outside it. He has his arm round her waist. He is a good looking young
man, short, dark, clean-shaven in a shoddy suit with muffler round his
neck._)

Teddy. I love yer so I could eat yer.

Polly. Yer'd 'ave a foine belly ache, an all, if 'er flesh were as sour
as 'er temper. (_Teddy stands amazed, then begins to move away._) Yer'd
never run from a woman, would yer? (_Teddy stops._) Come in. I'm sure
yer welcome. (_Teddy and Liza enter, suspicious and reluctant. Polly
hands a chair out._) Sit yer down. Don't be shy. Yer welcome to come
'ere if yer'll do yer courtin' proper an' drop yer dancin' abart outside
with that whistle of yours. 'Ticin' Liza out after she's bin sent to
bed. Yer slipped out o' back door I reckon, Liza?

Liza (_timidly_). Yus, mother.

Polly. I thought so. (_Cordially._) Well, yer'll 'ave no need to carry
on that road now. We're goin' to 'ave this square an' straight. Liza,
I'm sure Mr. Dawson's ready for a bit of supper. There ain't nothing
like peckin' a bit together when you want to get friendly. (_Finishing
the removal of ironing from table._) Now, Liza, get a move on. Where's
that piece of boiled bacon as we found good chewing yesterday? Bustle
round, girl. (_Liza takes a cloth from dresser, spreads on table and
lays plates, etc., for two, putting out the bacon, a tin loaf, and
butter._)

Polly (_drawing up a chair to Teddy's confidentially_). Yer see, Mr.
Dawson, I'm glad yer come in. I 'aven't arf liked yer plan of workin'.
Comin' 'ere an' whistlin' abart the 'ouse as if yer felt feared o' bein'
seen. (_Teddy shifts uncomfortably._) But that's all over now. We're
goin' to 'ave that altered. (_Looking round at table._) Where's yer
'ead, Liza? Do yer think Mr. Dawson can face 'is supper dry? (_Rising._)
There's some beer in the back. I'll go an' fetch it. (_Looking round as
she reaches the door l._) It's gettin' a bit dark in 'ere, Liza. Things
'ull look more cheerful with a light on. It'll give yer somethin' ter
do ter keep yer out of mischief while I'm gorn. (_Exit Polly l. Liza
immediately lights the gas and puts the blind down. Teddy rises._)

Teddy. Well, blime, Liza this beats everything. Wot made yer tell me
they'd be against it if they knew'?

Liza. I don't understand this no more than yer do. They didn't set abort
it this road with my sisters' fellers.

Teddy. Looks like she's took a fancy to me. Nothin' surprisin' in that
neither. Yer've got a sight better kind of a man than yer sisters ever
'ad.

Liza. That's right enough, Teddy, but I don't like looks of this. Father
used to leather Sally's bloke.

Teddy. I'm not afraid of 'im so long as I'm on right side of the missus.
I knaw who wears 'em in this 'ouse, an' it ain't the old man. Yus, Liza,
there ain't nothin' to complain of so far. (_Sitting and putting his
thumbs in his waistcoat armholes._) Yer never know yer luck. This 'ere
weren't looked for. I'll not be whistlin' out there for yer termorrer
night. Not arf. I'll walk in at door an' 'ang my 'at up loike as if I
owned the place. (_Looking round._) Tidy few bits of sticks yer've got
an all, Liza.

Liza. It ain't so bad.

Teddy. No. I say, Liza, if the missus don't like yer sisters' 'usbands
she'll be glad to see yer wed a man she's taken a fancy to. Fond of yer,
I reckon, too, eh, Liza?

Liza. Yus.

Teddy. Yus. Too fond to part. See wot I mean? They'll arsk us to live
'ere arter we're wed. Gettin' on, too, they are. Can't last for ever.

Liza. Wot are yer gettin' at?

Teddy. Nothin' particklar. It just struck me there's a nice pair of
shoes to step into 'ere. This is goin' to be a bit of all right, Liza. I
must keep on the sweet side of yer mother.

Liza (_bridling_). I dunno what yer've got in yer 'ead, Teddy Dawson. I
don't call to moind 'avin said I'd wed yer. I've not bin arsked that I
know of.

Teddy (_releasing his thumbs and coming to her_). I'm arskn' yer now,
ain't I?

Liza. I'm not goin' ter be arsked now. When I'm arsked I'll be arsked
proper, an' it'll not be in between while mother fetches the beer. Yer
makin' a bit too sure an all, so yer can put that in yer pipe an' smoke
'it. Don't be in too much of a 'urry abart me nor them shoes of my
father's wot yer mentioned either.

Teddy (_trying to put his arm round her_). 'Ere, I say, Liza, yer not
offended are yer?

Liza Yer'd best be careful of yer tongue.

Teddy. Well, I'll arsk an' arsk till yer say yer'll 'ave me. I'm deep in
love an' I'll not take no for an answer.

Liza (_softly_). P'raps yer'll not get it neither when yer arsk proper.

Teddy. That's right. Give us a kiss for a night cap, Liza.

Liza (_shyly_). I don't think I ought.

Teddy. Why not? Wot's come over yer? Yer've taken many a score out in
the street an' giver, as good as yer took, an all.

Liza. I know. I dunno. Seems like street's one thing an' inside's
another. It don't seem same thing with the gas on.

Teddy. Turn un low if yer feared o' the light.

Liza. Mother might catch us.

Teddy. That don't signify. She arsked me in an' told me to do my
courtin' proper. I don't call it proper courtin' for yer to go to yer
bed without a kiss on yer lips fur company.

Liza. I must get used to it fust. (_Teddy is turning gas down._) Yer
leave that gas be. I'll scream out. (_Teddy turns gas up._)

Teddy. Look 'ere, Liza, yer darned stand-offish all at once. Yer weren't
above kissin' me in street.

Liza (_apologetically_). It don't seem same thing in the 'ouse no 'ow,
Teddy.

Teddy. We wouldn't live in street if we were wed.

Liza (_with conviction_). No. That's what keeps striking me. It
don't seem same fun in the 'ouse. (_Teddy approaches her again with
resolution._) Here's mother! (_Teddy retreats. Enter Polly, with the
beer jug, which she puts on the table._)

Polly. 'Ere it is. Why, Liza, where's yer wits bin wool-gatherin'?
Yer've put no glasses out._) (_Liza hurriedly puts two glasses from
dresser on table. Garn, yer've no need to colour up like that if yer did
forget 'em. I'm not so old myself I've forgot my courtin' days. There
ain't nothink surprisin' if yer did forget when yer lover's with yer.
Well, sit yer down, Mr. Dawson.

Teddy (_sitting quite confidently now_). Thank yer.

Polly (_drawing up a chair for herself, facing him_) Yer'd best go to
bed, Liza; yer've bin sent there twice ternight. Don't stare like that.
Me an' Mr. Dawson's got to get acquaint an' I reckon I'm old enough, to
do without 'avin' yer for a chaperone.

Liza (_reluctantly_). All right. Good-noight, mother.

Polly (_mimicking_). Good-noight, mother! Is that all yer've got ter
say?

Liza. Yus. As far as I know.

Polly. Well, if yer keep yer mouth shut the likes o' that when yer wed,
Teddy 'ull be in clover. Wot? Oh, I see. Took yer charnce with 'im while
I got beer, did yer? Righto. Sling yer 'ook. (_Liza goes out l. under
protest._) Now then, Mr. Dawson, we can be comfortable.

Teddy. 'Ere, where's Mr. Bettesworth?

Polly (_assuming during the ensuing scene an air of rollicking
camaraderie_). 'E's all right. Out lookin' for somebody, only 'e ain't
lookin' in right place. Don't yer worry abart 'im. Now, yer'll ave a bit
of bacon?

Teddy (_reassured again_). I don't mind if I do.

Polly (_cutting and handing_). Righto. Bread's on yer side. (_Polly
helps herself to bacon and accepts a slice of bread from Teddy. They
eat without forks, using bread instead and show no objection to putting
knives in their mouths._)

Polly (_sarcastically_). I didn't know yer was teetotal.

Teddy. I ain't.

Polly. Well, beer was brewed for drinkin', (_Teddy pours himself a glass
and drinks modestly._)

Teddy (_replacing glass_). Ah!

Polly. Sup it up. I like a man that can take 'is liquor. Yer drink as if
it feared yer. (_Teddy empties his glass._) That's better. (_She passes
her glass, he fills it and his own._) Now, Mr. Dawson, don't stint
yerself. There ain't nothink like courtin' fur givin' an appetite. Yer
ain't got much to say for yerself. I dunno. Young men don't seem so
brisk at their courtin' as they was when I were a girl.

Teddy (_nettled_). I don't think I'm pertiklar slow.

Polly. Well, I'll give yer an instance. That gas. It were lighted the
moment I left room. I saw gleam of it under door. My old man 'ud never
'ave lit it like that when 'im and me courted. I give yer a fair chance,
an all. Yer don't fancy I allays take that long to pick up a jug o'
beer, do yer?

Teddy. Yus, well that 'ud go down all right with some girls, but it
ain't right way with Liza.

Polly. Oh, yer know yer own business best, of course, but yer'll not
be above takin' a 'in! from an old woman that was courted afore yer was
born. Yer must make use o' yer charnces. Girls don't like a slow lover.

Teddy. I'm not so shy, neither.

Polly. Yer not eatin' much. A feller wants a bit o' somethin' as ull
stick to 'is ribs when 'e's bin courtin'. Don't forget yer beer. Ain't
there no more in jug? (_Teddy drinks up and refills._) Yer'll not get
boozed on a drop like that, and who's to care if yer do? Yer at 'ome
'ere. Drink up and 'ave another.

Teddy (_pushing plate and glass from him_). I've 'ad enough. (_He
rises._)

Polly. I'll 'ave somethin' tastier in against yer come termorrer night.
I suppose yer'll be 'ere (_Polly rises._)

Teddy (_sulkily_). I told Liza I would, but I'm not so sure if I can.

Polly. Please yerself. Only yer'll keep 'er warm now yer've got so far
if yer'll take my tip. Don't let a girl fancy yer coolin' orf. Now,
understand, yer welcome 'ere so long as yer break yerself of that
whistlin' 'abit. We'll expect yer termorrer.

Teddy. I dunno as I'll be comin'. My mind's not made up yet.

Polly. Yer mighty slow abart it. Wot's to do wi' yer?

Teddy. Nothing. (_Polly puts her hand on his arm in a friendly way._)

Polly. Because yer've no need to feel awkward T' whole thing 'ull be
straight forward now. Yer've only to go in and win.

Teddy. Yer a bit anxious abart it.

Polly. No, Mr. Dawson, no. Not anxious.

Teddy (_dogmatically_). Yer a sight too keen set on my winnin' for my
taste.

Polly (_secretly rejoicing_). Yus. Well, I've took a fancy to yer.

Teddy (_slyly_). Sudden like. 'Ere, I've bin thinkin' now, yer said
somethin' a while back abart Liza's bein' a 'ot tempered 'un.

Polly (_as if much taken aback_). No. Did I? 'Ot tempered did I say?

Teddy. Yus.

Polly. Well, I can't deny she's a 'igh-spirited girl.

Teddy. 'Igh-spirited, eh? Liza didn't never 'ave much ter say for
'erself out in street.

Polly (_winking elaborately at him_). That's 'er artfulness. Trust a
girl to be careful when she's got 'er eye on a man.

Teddy (_moving towards door_). I think I'll go 'ome. Yer've give me a lot
to think abart.

Polly. I tell you wot, Mr. Dawson, yer slip in fur yer dinner on Sunday.
Liza shall cook yer somethin'. She ain't much good at cookin' but you'll
enjoy it whatever it's loike when she's cooked it. Me an' the old man
'ull 'ave a walk round Park afterwards an' yer can 'ave the 'ouse to
yerself with Liza. See what I mean?

Teddy. I don't know as I can come.

Polly (_as if deeply disappointed_). Yer a bit slow to my way of
thinkin'. I'm doin' my best fur yer.

Teddy. Yus. That's just it.

Polly. Just what?

Teddy. Yer a fat sight too keen to be rid of the girl if yer want it
straight.

Polly. Don't say that. I'm only tryin' to 'elp yer.

Teddy. Yer didn't 'elp blokes wot come after yer other girls only with
yer old man's strap.

Polly. Oh, but yer a very different sort to them, Mr. Dawson.

Teddy. That's right enough. (_Door l. opens softly and Liza peeps in.
She leaves door ajar without entering._)

Polly. Then we'll expect yer o' Sunday?

Teddy. No. Damned if yer will. Yer shovin' 'er 'at me a sight too last.
I'm thinkin' there's somethin' wrong with 'er or yer'd not be so humble
abart it. Yer bally well beggin' me to 'ave 'er. I'm 'avin' none of yer
bad bargains, with tongues an' tempers an' no good at cookin', thank
yer. Yer can't fool me Mrs. Bettesworth.

Polly. I'm sorry yer doubts me. Then we mustn't expect yer round never
no more?

Teddy. No. I've seen through yer this time.

Polly. It's very 'ard, very 'ard it is. Wot must I tell Liza?

Teddy. It's nothin' to me wot yer tells 'er. I'm goin' 'ome. (_As he
reaches the centre door, Andrew opens it and enters._)

Andrew (_drawing hack in amazement_). Well, blime! (_Liza steps into the
room. Teddy looks at the l. door as if to escape that way, but sees her.
Polly moves to Andrew._)

Polly. Let 'im go, Andrew. 'E ain't worth wastin' leather on 'im. 'E
won't ever come 'ere no more.

Andrew'. 'E'll get 'isself done in if 'e does. Clear out. (_Teddy loses
no time. Andrew closes door. Liza goes to Polly._)

Liza. Mother, do yer really want ter get shut of me?

Polly. Oh, bin listenin' at key-'ole 'ave yer? Well, listeners don't
'ear no good o' themselves.

Liza. I couldn't go ter bed without knowin'. I'd got ter come dahn ter
find out wot yer an' Teddy was savin'.

Polly. Yer 'eard 'e'll not come back.

Liza. Yus.

Polly. Are yer sorry?

Liza (_hesitating_). No--no--not if yer don't want ter get rid of me.
Yer don't do yer? Father, mother, yer don't want me ter go!

Andrew. We don't that.

Liza. That's wot 'e said.

Polly. 'E said a lot o' foolish things. No Liza we don't want yer to go.
Yer the light o' our eyes. That chap----

Liza (_fiercely_). I 'ate 'im.

Polly. Ah. See, Liza. (_Takes her to hearth and shows her the motto on a
grocer's calendar over it._) See that? "East, West, home's best." Ain't
that true? Yer stick to yer 'ome a bit longer. Yer can take wings an'
fly from yer nest when time comes. Yer sure yer not sorry 'e's gorn?

Liza (_crying on Polly's shoulder_). I want ter stay with yer.

Polly (_caressing her_). That's right, Liza.

Andrew (_angrily approaching table_). Who's drunk my supper beer?

Polly. 'Im.

Andrew. I'll break 'is-------

Polly. Wasn't it worth it to be rid of 'im?

Andrew. Yus. Yer bloomin' old schemer. Yus. Yer plan worked it after all.

Polly. It's bin a cure for love.