GARSIDE'S CAREER A Comedy In Four Acts By Harold Brighouse London: Constable And Company Ltd. 1914 [Illustration: 0001] [Illustration: 0007] TO A. N. MONKHOUSE GARSIDE'S CAREER ACT I |Interior of an artisan cottage. Door centre, leading direct to street, door right to house. Fireplace with kitchen range left. Table centre, with print cloth. Two plain chairs under it, one left, one centre, facing audience. Rocking-chair by fireplace. Two chairs against wall right, above door. Dresser right, below door. Small hanging bookcase on wall, left centre. Window right centre. On walls plainly framed photographs of Socialist leaders--Blatchford, Hyndman, Hardie. The time is 7.0 p.m. on a June evening. Mrs. Garside is a working-class woman of 50, greyhaired, slight, with red toil-worn hands and a face expressive of resignation marred by occasional petulance, dressed in a rough serge skirt, dark print blouse, elastic-sided boots, and a white apron. She sits in the rocking-chair, watching the cheap alarm-clock fretfully. Outside a boy is heard calling "Last Edishun." She rises hastily, feels on the mantelpiece for her purse, opens the door centre and buys a paper from the boy who appears through the doorway. She closes door, sits centre and spreads the paper on the table, rises again and gets spectacle-case from mantelpiece. She sits with spectacles on and rapidly goes through the paper seeking some particular item. The door centre opens and Margaret Shawcross enters. She is young, dark, with a face beautiful in expression rather than feature. It is the face of an idealist, one who would go through fire and water for the faith that is in her. She is a school teacher, speaking with an educated voice in a slightly apparent northern accent, dressed neatly and serviceably. Mrs. Garside turns eagerly as she enters and is disappointed on seeing Margaret. ***** Mrs. Gar. Oh, it's you. I thought it might be---- Mar. (_closing door, sympathetically_). Yes. But it's too early to expect Peter back yet. Mrs. G. (_with some truculence_). He'll not be long. He's always said he'd let his mother be the first to hear the news. Mar. (_gently_). You don't mind my being here to hear it with you? Mrs. G. (_rising and putting spectacles back on mantelpiece, speaking ungraciously_). No, you've got a right to hear it too, Margaret. (_Margaret picks up paper._) I can't find anything in that. Mar. Peter said the results come out too late for the evening papers. Mrs. G. He never told me. (_Margaret folds paper on table._) I'm glad though. There's no one else _'_ull know a-front of me. He'll bring the good news home himself. He's coming now as fast as train and car _'_ull bring him. (_Sitting in rocking-chair._) Mar. Yes. He knows we're waiting here, we two who care for Peter more than anything on earth. Mrs. G. (_giving her a jealous glance_). I wish he'd come. Mar. Try to be calm, Mrs. Garside.