Page:Representative American plays.pdf/835

Rhoda. What does the picture mean?

Beeler. Well, Pan there, he was a kind of a nature god. The old Romans thought him out, to stand for a lot of things.

Rhoda. What kind of things?

Beeler. Natural things, with plenty of sap and mischief in 'em. Growin' plants, and frisky animals, and young folks in love. (He points to the figure of Pan, then to the Pilgrim, as he talks.) There he sits playin' Jenny-come-kiss-me on his dod-gasted mouth-organ, when along comes one of them fellows out of a monastery, with religion on the brain. Pikin' for Jerusalem, to get a saint's toe-nail and a splinter of the true cross. (Martha enters from the kitchen and potters about the room "redding up.") Look at him! Do you think he'll ever get to Jerusalem? Not this trip! He hears the pipes o' Pan. He hears women callin' and fiddles squeakin' love-tunes in the woods. It'll take more than a monk's robe on his back and a shaved head on his shoulders to keep him straight, I reckon. He'll call to mind that young fellows had blood in their veins when Adam was a farmer, and whoop-la! he'll be off to the county fair, to dance ring-around-a-rosy with Matildy Jane! (Pause, as he takes off his cap and light his pipe.) Like to see our friend Michaelis meet up with Mr. Pan. Don't believe Michaelis ever looked cross-eyed at a girl. (He examines Rhoda quizzically.) You would n't make up bad as Matildy Jane yourself, Rho, but sufferin' Job, he can't tell the difference between crow's feet and dimples!

Martha. Don't you be so sure!

Beeler. Hello! Dan'el come to judgment! Never seen an old maid yet that could n't squeeze a love story out of a flat-iron.

Martha. I may be an old maid, and you may be an old wind-bag, but I've got eyes in my head. (To Rhoda.) Where did you meet up with him, anyway?

Beeler. Wake up, Rhody! Marthy asked you where you met up with our new boarder.

Rhoda. On the road, coming home from the village.

Beeler. What made you bring him here?

Rhoda. He wanted a quiet place to stay, and this was the best I knew.

Martha. Guess it was!—A snap for him.

Beeler. (As he takes off his coat, and hangs it up.) Rhody, ain't this religious business rather a new thing with you? Up there in St. Louis, did n't go in for it much up there, did you?

Rhoda. (Looks at him quickly.) Why do you ask that?

Beeler. Oh, I gathered, from things I heard, that you cared more about dancin' than about prayin', up there. (She turns away.) That young fellow that was so sweet on you in St. Louis year before last, he wa' n't much in the psalm-singin' line, was he?

Rhoda. (Startled and pale.) Who told you about him?

Beeler. Oh, Mary's friends, the Higginses, used to write us about your affairs. We thought it would be a hitch-up, sure as shootin'. Studyin' to be a doctor, was n't he?

Rhoda. Uncle, please never speak to me about him again!

Beeler. All right, all right, my girl. I've been young myself, and I know youth is touchy as a gumboil when it comes to love affairs. So it's all off, is it?

Rhoda. Yes.

Beeler. (Sits down to mend the harness.) If you're partial to the pill trade, we've got a brand new doctor in town now. Took old Doctor Martin's place. He'll be up here to see Mary in a day or two, and you can look him over.

Rhoda. What is his name?

Beeler. (Tries in vain to recall it.) Blamed if I can remember. Only seen him once. But I tell you, he's smart as tacks. Chuck full of Jamaica ginger. The very kind I'd have swore you'd take to, a while back, before you lost your fun and your spirit. When I first saw you on your father's farm out in Kansas, you was as wild a little gypsy as I ever set eyes on. I said then to your dad, "There's a filly that'll need a good breakin'." I never thought I'd see you takin' up with these Gospel pedlers.

(Martha comes in from the hall and fusses about, dusting, etc. She points in the direction of Mrs. Beeler's room.)