Plays
afternoon I put up my cherries last summer.
(_She puts the bottle on the big kitchen table, center of the room. With
a sigh, is about to sit down in the rocking-chair. Before she is seated
realizes what chair it is; with a slow look at it, steps back. The chair
which she has touched rocks back and forth_.)
MRS PETERS: Well, I must get those things from the front room closet,
(_she goes to the door at the right, but after looking into the other
room, steps back_) You coming with me, Mrs Hale? You could help me carry
them.
(_They go in the other room; reappear,_ MRS PETERS _carrying a dress and
skirt,_ MRS HALE _following with a pair of shoes._)
MRS PETERS: My, it's cold in there.
(_She puts the clothes on the big table, and hurries to the stove._)
MRS HALE: (_examining the skirt_) Wright was close. I think maybe that's
why she kept so much to herself. She didn't even belong to the Ladies
Aid. I suppose she felt she couldn't do her part, and then you don't
enjoy things when you feel shabby. She used to wear pretty clothes and
be lively, when she was Minnie Foster, one of the town girls singing in
the choir. But that--oh, that was thirty years ago. This all you was to
take in?
MRS PETERS: She said she wanted an apron. Funny thing to want, for there
isn't much to get you dirty in jail, goodness knows. But I suppose just
to make her feel more natural. She said they was in the top drawer in
this cupboard. Yes, here. And then her little shawl that always hung
behind the door. (_opens stair door and looks_) Yes, here it is.
(_Quickly shuts door leading upstairs._)
MRS HALE: (_abruptly moving toward her_) Mrs Peters?
MRS PETERS: Yes, Mrs Hale?
MRS HALE: Do you think she did it?
MRS PETERS: (_in a frightened voice_) Oh, I don't know.
MRS HALE: Well, I don't think she did. Asking for an apron and her
little shawl. Worrying about her fruit.
MRS PETERS: (_starts to speak, glances up, where footsteps are heard in
the room above. In a low voice_) Mr Peters says it looks bad for her. Mr
Henderson is awful sarcastic in a speech and he'll make fun of her
sayin' she didn't wake up.
MRS HALE: Well, I guess John Wright didn't wake when they was slipping
that rope under his neck.
MRS PETERS: No, it's strange. It must have been done awful crafty and
still. They say it was such a--funny way to kill a man, rigging it all
up like that.
MRS HALE: That's just what Mr Hale said. There was a gun in the house.
He says that's what he can't understand.
MRS PETERS: Mr Henderson said coming out that what was needed for the
case was a motive; something to show anger, or--sudden feeling.
MRS HALE: (_who is standing by the table_) Well, I don't see any signs
of anger around here, (_she puts her hand on the dish towel which lies
on the table, stands looking down at table, one half of which is clean,
the other half messy_) It's wiped to here, (_makes a move as if to
finish work, then turns and looks at loaf of bread outside the breadbox.
Drops towel. In that voice of coming back to familiar things._) Wonder
how they are finding things upstairs. I hope she had it a little more
red-up up there. You know, it seems kind of sneaking. Locking her up in
town and then coming out here and trying to get her own house to turn
against her!
MRS PETERS: But Mrs Hale, the law is the law.
MRS HALE: I s'pose 'tis, (_unbuttoning her coat_) Better loosen up your
things, Mrs Peters. You won't feel them when you go out.
(MRS PETERS _takes off her fur tippet, goes to hang it on hook at back
of room, stands looking at the under part of the small corner table_.)
MRS PETERS: She was piecing a quilt. (_She brings the large sewing
basket and they look at the bright pieces_.)
MRS HALE: It's log cabin pattern. Pretty, isn't it? I wonder if she was
goin' to quilt it or just knot it?
(_Footsteps have been heard coming down the stairs_. The SHERIFF enters
followed by HALE and the COUNTY ATTORNEY.)
SHERIFF: They wonder if she was going to quilt it or just knot it! (_The
men laugh, the women look abashed_.)
COUNTY ATTORNEY: (_rubbing his hands over the stove_) Frank's fire
didn't do much up there, did it? Well, let's go out to the barn and get
that cleared up. (_The men go outside_.)
MRS HALE: (_resentfully_) I don't know as there's anything so strange,
our takin' up our time with little things while we're waiting for them
to get the evidence. (_she sits down at the big table smoothing out a
block with decision_) I don't see as it's anything to laugh about.
MRS PETERS: (_apologetically_) Of course they've got awful important
things on their minds.
(_Pulls up a chair and joins MRS HALE at the table_.)
MRS HALE: (_examining another block_) Mrs Peters, look at this one.
Here, this is the one she was working on, and look at the sewing! All
the rest of it has been so nice and even. And look at this! It's all
over the place! Why, it looks as if she didn't know what she was about!
(_After she has said this they look at each other, then start to glance
back at the door. After an instant_ MRS HALE _has pulled at a knot and
ripped the sewing_.)
MRS PETERS: Oh, what are you doing, Mrs Hale?
MRS HALE: (_mildly_) Just pulling out a stitch or two that's not sewed
very good. (_threading a needle_) Bad sewing always made me fidgety.
MRS PETERS: (nervously) I don't think we ought to touch things.
MRS HALE: I'll just finish up this end. (_suddenly stopping and leaning
forward_) Mrs Peters?
MRS PETERS: Yes, Mrs Hale?
MRS HALE: What do you suppose she was so nervous about?
MRS PETERS: Oh--I don't know. I don't know as she was nervous. I
sometimes sew awful queer when I'm just tired. (MRS HALE _starts to say
something, looks at_ MRS PETERS, _then goes on sewing_) Well I must get
these things wrapped up. They may be through sooner than we think,
(_putting apron and other things together_) I wonder where I can find a
piece of paper, and string.
MRS HALE: In that cupboard, maybe.
MRS PETERS: (_looking in cupboard_) Why, here's a bird-cage, (_holds it
up_) Did she have a bird, Mrs Hale?
MRS HALE: Why, I don't know whether she did or not--I've not been here
for so long. There was a man around last year selling canaries cheap,
but I don't know as she took one; maybe she did. She used to sing real
pretty herself.
MRS PETERS: (_glancing around_) Seems funny to think of a bird here. But
she must have had one, or why would she have a cage? I wonder what
happened to it.
MRS HALE: I s'pose maybe the cat got it.
MRS PETERS: No, she didn't have a cat. She's got that feeling some
people have about cats--being afraid of them. My cat got in her room and
she was real upset and asked me to take it out.
MRS HALE: My sister Bessie was like that. Queer, ain't it?
MRS PETERS: (_examining the cage_) Why, look at this door. It's broke.
One hinge is pulled apart.
MRS HALE: (_looking too_) Looks as if someone must have been rough with
it.
MRS PETERS: Why, yes.
(_She brings the cage forward and puts it on the table_.)
MRS HALE: I wish if they're going to find any evidence they'd be about
it. I don't like this place.
MRS PETERS: But I'm awful glad you came with me, Mrs Hale. It would be
lonesome for me sitting here alone.
MRS HALE: It would, wouldn't it? (_dropping her sewing_) But I tell you
what I do wish, Mrs Peters. I wish I had come over sometimes when _she_
was here. I--(_looking around the room_)--wish I had.
MRS PETERS: But of course you were awful busy, Mrs Hale--your house and
your children.
MRS HALE: I could've come. I stayed away because it weren't
cheerful--and that's why I ought to have come. I--I've never liked this
place. Maybe because it's down in a hollow and you don't see the road. I
dunno what it is, but it's a lonesome place and always was. I wish I had
come over to see Minnie Foster sometimes. I can see now--(_shakes her
head_)
MRS PETERS: Well, you mustn't reproach yourself, Mrs Hale. Somehow we
just don't see how it is with other folks until--something comes up.
MRS HALE: Not having children makes less work--but it makes a quiet
house, and Wright out to work all day, and no company when he did come
in. Did you know John Wright, Mrs Peters?
MRS PETERS: Not to know him; I've seen him in town. They say he was a
good man.
MRS HALE: Yes--good; he didn't drink, and kept his word as well as most,
I guess, and paid his debts. But he was a hard man, Mrs Peters. Just to
pass the time of day with him--(_shivers_) Like a raw wind that gets to
the bone, (_pauses, her eye falling on the cage_) I should think she
would 'a wanted a bird. But what do you suppose went with it?
MRS PETERS: I don't know, unless it got sick and died.
(_She reaches over and swings the broken door, swings it again, both
women watch it_.)
MRS HALE: You weren't raised round here, were you? (_MRS PETERS shakes
her head_) You didn't know--her?
MRS PETERS: Not till they brought her yesterday.
MRS HALE: She--come to think of it, she was kind of like a bird
herself--real sweet and pretty, but kind of timid and--fluttery.
How--she--did--change. (_silence; then as if struck by a happy thought
and relieved to get back to everyday things_) Tell you what, Mrs Peters,
why don't you take the quilt in with you? It might take up her mind.
MRS PETERS: Why, I think that's a real nice idea, Mrs Hale. There
couldn't possibly be any objection to it, could there? Now, just what
would I take? I wonder if her patches are in here--and her things.
(_They look in the sewing basket_.)
MRS HALE: Here's some red. I expect this has got sewing things in it.
(_brings out a fancy box_) What a pretty box. Looks like something
somebody would give you. Maybe her scissors are in here. (_Opens box.
Suddenly puts her hand to her nose_) Why--(MRS PETERS _bends nearer,
then turns her face away_) There's something wrapped up in this piece of
silk.
MRS PETERS: Why, this isn't her scissors.
MRS HALE: (_lifting the silk_) Oh, Mrs Peters--it's--
(MRS PETERS _bends closer_.)
MRS PETERS: It's the bird.
MRS HALE: (_jumping up_) But, Mrs Peters--look at it! It's neck! Look at
its neck!
It's all--other side _to_.
MRS PETERS: Somebody--wrung--its--neck.
(_Their eyes meet. A look of growing comprehension, of horror. Steps are
heard outside_. MRS HALE _slips box under quilt pieces, and sinks into
her chair. Enter_ SHERIFF _and_ COUNTY ATTORNEY. MRS PETERS _rises_.)
COUNTY ATTORNEY: (_as one turning from serious things to little
pleasantries_) Well ladies, have you decided whether she was going to
quilt it or knot it?
MRS PETERS: We think she was going to--knot it.
COUNTY ATTORNEY: Well, that's interesting, I'm sure. (_seeing the
birdcage_) Has the bird flown?
MRS HALE: (_putting more quilt pieces over the box_) We think the--cat
got it.
COUNTY ATTORNEY: (_preoccupied_) Is there a cat?
(MRS HALE _glances in a quick covert way at_ MRS PETERS.)
MRS PETERS: Well, not now. They're superstitious, you know. They leave.
COUNTY ATTORNEY: (_to_ SHERIFF PETERS, _continuing an interrupted
conversation_) No sign at all of anyone having come from the outside.
Their own rope. Now let's go up again and go over it piece by piece.
(_they start upstairs_) It would have to have been someone who knew just
the--
(MRS PETERS _sits down. The two women sit there not looking at one
another, but as if peering into something and at the same time holding
back. When they talk now it is in the manner of feeling their way over
strange ground, as if afraid of what they are saying, but as if they can
not help saying it_.)
MRS HALE: She liked the bird. She was going to bury it in that pretty
box.
MRS PETERS: (_in a whisper_) When I was a girl--my kitten--there was a