Books: Hobson\'s Choice

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JIM. I don't want to get you into trouble, Tubby. (_He sits_
R. _of table_.)

TUBBY. Thank you, Mr. Heeler. (_Puts bacon on plate and plate
down on the hearth_.)

JIM. I quite thought it was something serious.

TUBBY. If you ask me, it is. (_Coming back to table_.)

JIM. Which way?

TUBBY (_cutting bread_). Every way you look at it. Mr.
Hobson's not his own old self, and the shop's not its own old
self, and look at me. Now I ask you, Mr. Heeler, man to man, is
this work for a foreman shoe hand? Cooking and laying tables
and--

JIM. By all accounts there's not much else for you to do.

TUBBY. There's better things than being a housemaid, if it's only
making clogs. (_Crosses to fire to toast_.)

JIM. They tell me clogs are a cut line.

TUBBY. Well, what are you to do? There's nothing else wanted.
(_Turns_.) Hobson's in a bad way, and I'm telling no secret
when I say it. It's a fact that's known.

JIM. It's a thousand pities with an old-established trade like
this.

TUBBY. And who's to blame?

JIM. I don't think you ought to discuss that with me, Tubby.

TUBBY. Don't you? I'm an old servant of the master's, and I'm
sticking to him now when everybody's calling me a doting fool
because I don't look after Tubby Wadlow first, and if that don't
give me the right to say what I please, I don't know. It's
temper's ruining this shop, Mr. Heeler. Temper and obstinacy.

JIM. They say in Chapel Street it's Willie Mossop.

TUBBY. Willie's a good lad, though I say it that trained him. He
hit us hard, did Willie, but we'd have got round that in time.
With care, you understand, and tact. Tact. That's what the gaffer
lacks. Miss Maggie, now ... well, she's a marvel, aye, a fair
knock-out. Not slavish, mind you. Stood up to the customers all
the time, but she'd a way with her that sold the goods and made
them come again for more. Look at us now. Men assistants in the
shop.

JIM. Cost more than women.

TUBBY. Cost? They'd be dear at any price. Look here, Mr. Heeler,
take yourself. When you go to buy a pair of boots do you like to
be tried on by a man or a nice soft young woman?

JIM. Well--

TUBBY. There you are. Stands to reason. It's human nature.

JIM. But there are two sides to that, Tubby. Look at the other.

TUBBY. Ladies?

JIM. Yes.

TUBBY. Ladies that are ladies wants trying on by their own sex,
and them that aren't buys clogs. It's the good-class trade that
pays, and Hobson's have lost it.

(_Enter_ HOBSON _up_ R., _unshaven, without collar.
He
comes down stage between them_.)

JIM (_with cheerful sympathy_). Well, Henry!

HOBSON (_with acute melancholy and self-pity_). Oh, Jim! Oh,
Jim! Oh, Jim!

TUBBY. Will you sit on the arm-chair by the fire or at the table?

HOBSON. The table? Breakfast? Bacon? Bacon, and I'm like this.

(JIM _assists him to arm-chair_.)

JIM. When a man's like this he wants a woman about the house,
Henry.

HOBSON (_sitting_). I'll want then.

TUBBY. Shall I go for Miss Maggie, sir?--Mrs. Mossop, I mean.

JIM. I think your daughters should be here.

HOBSON. They should. Only they're not. They're married, and I'm
deserted by them all and I'll die deserted, then perhaps they'll
be sorry for the way they've treated me. Tubby, have you got no
work to do in the shop?

TUBBY. I might find some if I looked hard.

HOBSON. Then go and look. And take that bacon with you. I don't
like the smell.

TUBBY (_getting bacon_). Are you sure you wouldn't like Miss
Maggie here? I'll go for her and--(_He holds the bacon very
close to_ HOBSON'S _face_.)

HOBSON. Oh, go for her. Go for the devil. What does it matter who
you go for? I'm a dying man.

(TUBBY _takes bacon and goes out_ L.)

JIM. What's all this talk about dying, Henry?

HOBSON. Oh, Jim! Oh, Jim! I've sent for the doctor. We'll know
soon how near the end is.

JIM. Well, this is very sudden. (_Sits chair,_ R.) You've
never been ill in your life.

HOBSON. It's been saved up, and all come now at once.

JIM. What are your symptoms, Henry?

HOBSON. I'm all one symptom, head to foot. I'm frightened of
myself, Jim. That's worst. You would call me a clean man, Jim?

JIM. Clean? Of course I would. Clean in body and mind.

HOBSON. I'm dirty now. I haven't washed this morning. Couldn't
face the water. The only use I saw for water was to drown myself.
The same with shaving. I've thrown my razor through the window.
Had to or I'd have cut my throat.

JIM. Oh, come, come.

HOBSON. It's awful. I'll never trust myself again. I'm going to
grow a beard--if I live.

JIM. You'll cheat the undertaker, Henry, but I fancy a doctor
could improve you. What do you reckon is the cause of it now?

HOBSON. "Moonraker's."

JIM. You don't think--

HOBSON. I don't think. I know. I've seen it happen to others, but
I never thought that it would come to me.

JIM. Nor me, neither. You're not a toper, Henry. I grant you're
regular, but you don't exceed. It's a hard thing if a man can't
take a drop of ale without its getting back at him like this.
Why, it might be my turn next.

(TUBBY _enters_ L., _showing in_ DOCTOR MACFARLANE,
_a domineering Scotsman of fifty_.)

TUBBY. Here's Doctor MacFarlane. (_Exit_ TUBBY.)

DOCTOR. Good morning, gentlemen. Where's my patient? (_He puts
hat on table_.)

JIM (_speaking without indicating_ HOBSON). Here. (_He does
not rise_.)

DOCTOR. Here? Up?

HOBSON. Looks like it.

DOCTOR. And for a patient who's downstairs I'm made to rise from
my bed at this hour?

JIM. It's not so early as all that.

DOCTOR. But I've been up all night, sir. Young woman with her
first. Are you Mr. Hobson?

JIM (_quickly_). Certainly not. I'm not ill.

DOCTOR. Hum. Not much to choose between you. You've both got your
fate written on your faces.

JIM. Do you mean that I--? (_Rises_.)

DOCTOR. I mean he has and you will.

HOBSON. Doctor, will you attend to me?

(JIM _moves round_ HOBSON'S _arm-chair to up stage and
then to_ L. _of table_.)

DOCTOR. Yes. Now, sir. (_He sits by him and holds his wrist_.)

HOBSON. I've never been in a bad way before this morning. Never
wanted a doctor in my life.

DOCTOR. You've needed. But you've not sent.

HOBSON. But this morning--

DOCTOR. I ken--well.

HOBSON. What! You know!

DOCTOR. Any fool would ken.

HOBSON. Eh?

DOCTOR. Any fool but one fool and that's yourself.

HOBSON. You're damned polite.

DOCTOR. If ye want flattery, I dare say ye can get it from your
friend. I'm giving you ma medical opinion.

HOBSON. I want your opinion on my complaint, not on my character.

DOCTOR. Your complaint and your character are the same.

HOBSON. Then you'll kindly separate them and you'll tell me--

DOCTOR (_rising and taking up hat_). I'll tell you nothing,
sir. I don't diagnose as my patients wish, but as my intellect
and sagacity direct. Good morning to you. (_Turns_ L.)

JIM (_meeting him below table_). But you have not diagnosed.

DOCTOR. Sir, if I am to interview a patient in the presence of a
third party, the least that third party can do is to keep his
mouth shut.

JIM. After that, there's only one thing for it. He shifts or I
do.

HOBSON. You'd better go, Jim.

JIM. There are other doctors, Henry.

HOBSON. I'll keep this one. I've got to teach him a lesson.
Scotchmen can't come over Salford lads this road.

JIM. If that's it, I'll leave you.

HOBSON. That's it. I can bully as well as a foreigner.

(JIM _goes out_ L.)

DOCTOR. That's better, Mr. Hobson. (_He puts hat down and comes
back_ R.)

HOBSON. If I'm better, you've not had much to do with it.

DOCTOR. I think my calculated rudeness--

HOBSON. If you calculate your fees at the same rate as your
rudeness, they'll be high.

DOCTOR. I calculate by time, Mr. Hobson, so we'd better get to
business. Will you unbutton your shirt?

HOBSON (_doing it_). No hanky-panky now.

DOCTOR (_ignoring his remark and examining_). Aye. It just
confirms ma first opinion. Ye've had a breakdown this A.M.?

HOBSON. You might say so.

DOCTOR. Melancholic? Depressed?

HOBSON (_buttoning shirt_). Question was whether the razor
would beat me, or I'd beat razor. I won, that time. The razor's
in the yard. But I'll never dare to try shaving myself again.

DOCTOR. And do you seriously require me to tell you the cause,
Mr. Hobson?

HOBSON. I'm paying thee brass to tell me.

DOCTOR. Chronic alcoholism, if you know that what means.

HOBSON. Aye.

DOCTOR. A serious case.

HOBSON. I know it's serious. What do you think you're here for?
It isn't to tell me something I know already. It's to cure me.

DOCTOR. Very well. I will write you a prescription. (_Produces
notebook. Sits at table and writes with copying pencil_.)

HOBSON. Stop that!

DOCTOR. I beg your pardon?

HOBSON. I won't take it. None of your druggist's muck for me. I'm
particular about what I put into my stomach.

DOCTOR. Mr. Hobson, if you don't mend your manners, I'll certify
you for a lunatic asylum. Are you aware that you've drunk
yourself within six months of the grave? You'd a warning this
morning that any sane man would listen to and you're going to
listen to it, sir.

HOBSON. By taking your prescription?

DOCTOR. Precisely. You will take this mixture, Mr. Hobson, and
you will practise total abstinence for the future.

HOBSON. You ask me to give up my reasonable refreshment!

DOCTOR. I forbid alcohol absolutely. (_Starts writing_.)

HOBSON. Much use your forbidding is. I've had my liquor for as
long as I remember, and I'll have it to the end. If I'm to be
beaten by beer I'll die fighting, and I'm none practising
unnatural teetotalism for the sake of lengthening out my
unalcoholic days. Life's got to be worth living before I'll live
it.

DOCTOR (_rising and taking hat again_). If that's the way
you talk, my services are of no use to you. (_Moves down_
L.)

HOBSON. They're not. I'll pay you on the nail for this.
(_Rising and sorting money from pocket_.)

DOCTOR. I congratulate you on the impulse, Mr. Hobson.

HOBSON. Nay, it's a fair deal, doctor. I've had value. You've
been a tonic to me. When I got up I never thought to see the
"Moonraker's" again, but I'm ready for my early morning draught
this minute. (_Holds out money_.)

DOCTOR (_putting hat down, moving to_ HOBSON _and talking
earnestly_). Man, will ye no be warned? Ye pig-headed animal,
alcohol is poison to ye, deadly, virulent with a system in the
state yours is.

HOBSON. You're getting warm about it. Will you take your fee?
(_Holding out money_.)

DOCTOR. Yes. When I've earned it. Put it in your pocket, Mr.
Hobson. I hae na finished with ye yet.

HOBSON. I thought you had. (_Sits again_.)

DOCTOR (_up to_ HOBSON, R.). Do ye ken that ye're defying
me? Ye'll die fighting, will ye? Aye, it's a gay, high-sounding
sentiment, ma mannie, but ye'll no dae it, do ye hear? Ye'll no
slip from me now. I've got ma grip on ye. Ye'll die sober, and
ye'll live the longest time ye can before ye die. Have ye a wife,
Mr. Hobson?

(HOBSON _points upwards_.)

In bed?

HOBSON. Higher than that.

DOCTOR. It's a pity. A man like you should keep a wife handy.

HOBSON. I'm not so partial to women.

DOCTOR. Women are a necessity, sir. Have ye no female relative
that can manage ye?

HOBSON. Manage?

DOCTOR. Keep her thumb firm on ye?

HOBSON. I've got three daughters, Doctor MacFarlane, and they
tried to keep their thumbs on me.

DOCTOR. Well? Where are they?

HOBSON. Married--and queerly married.

DOCTOR. You drove them to it.

HOBSON. They all grew uppish. Maggie worst of all.

DOCTOR. Maggie? Then I'll tell ye what ye'll do, Mr. Hobson. You
will get Maggie back. At any price. At all costs to your pride,
as your medical man I order you to get Maggie back. (_Movement
from_ HOBSON.) I don't know Maggie, but I prescribe her, and--
damn ye, sir, are ye going to defy me again?

HOBSON. I tell you I won't have it.

DOCTOR. You'll have to have it. You're a dunderheaded lump of
obstinacy, but I've taken a fancy to ye and I decline to let ye
kill yeself.

HOBSON. I've escaped from the thraldom of women once, and--

DOCTOR. And a pretty mess you've made of your liberty. Now this
Maggie ye mention--if ye'll tell me where she's to be found, I'll
just step round and have a crack with her maself, for I've gone
beyond the sparing of a bit of trouble over ye.

HOBSON. You'll waste your time.

DOCTOR. I'll cure you, Mr. Hobson. (_Crosses to_ C. _and turns_.)

HOBSON. She won't come back.

DOCTOR. Oh. Now that's a possibility. If she's a sensible body I
concur with your opinion she'll no come back, but women are a
soft-hearted race and she'll maybe take pity on ye after all.

HOBSON. I want no pity.

DOCTOR. If she's the woman that I take her for ye'll get no pity.
Ye'll get discipline.

(HOBSON _rises and tries to speak_.)

Don't interrupt me, sir. I'm talking.

HOBSON. I've noticed it. (_Sits_.)

DOCTOR. You asked me for a cure, and Maggie's the name of the
cure you need. Maggie, sir, do you hear? Maggie!

(_Enter_ MAGGIE L., _in outdoor clothes_.)

MAGGIE. What about me?

DOCTOR (_staggered, then_). Are you Maggie?

MAGGIE. I'm Maggie.

DOCTOR. Ye'll do.

HOBSON (_getting his breath_). What are you doing under my
roof?

MAGGIE. I've come because I was fetched. (_Coming_ C.)

HOBSON. Who fetched you?

MAGGIE. Tubby Wadlow.

HOBSON (_rising_). Tubby can quit my shop this minute.

DOCTOR (_putting him back_). Sit down, Mr. Hobson.

MAGGIE. He said you're dangerously ill.

DOCTOR. He is. I'm Doctor MacFarlane. (_Coming_ C.) Will you
come and live here again?

MAGGIE. I'm married.

DOCTOR. I know that, Mrs.--

MAGGIE. Mossop.

DOCTOR. Your father's drinking himself to death, Mrs. Mossop.

HOBSON. Look here, Doctor, what's passed between you and me isn't
for everybody's ears.

DOCTOR. I judge your daughter's not the sort to want the truth
wrapped round with a feather-bed for fear it hits her hard.

MAGGIE (_nodding appreciatively_). Go on. I'd like to hear
it all. (_Goes to and sits in chair_ R. _of table_.)

HOBSON. Just nasty-minded curiosity.

DOCTOR. I don't agree with you, Mr. Hobson. If Mrs. Mossop is to
sacrifice her own home to come to you, she's every right to know
the reason why.

HOBSON. Sacrifice! If you saw her home you'd find another word
than that. Two cellars in Oldfield Road.

MAGGIE. I'm waiting, Doctor.

DOCTOR. I've a constitutional objection to seeing patients slip
through ma fingers when it's avoidable, Mrs. Mossop, and I'll do
ma best for your father, but ma medicine will na do him any good
without your medicine to back me up. He needs a tight hand on him
all the time.

MAGGIE. I've not same chance I had before I married.

DOCTOR. Ye'll have no chance at all unless ye come and live here.
I willna talk about the duty of a daughter because I doubt he's
acted badly by ye, but on the broad grounds of humanity, it's
saving life if ye'll come--

MAGGIE. I might.

DOCTOR. Nay, but will ye?

MAGGIE. You've told me what you think. The rest's my business.
(_Rises and goes_ L.)

HOBSON. That's right, Maggie. (_To_ DOCTOR.) That's what you
get for interfering with folks' private affairs. So now you can
go, with your tail between your legs, Doctor MacFarlane.

DOCTOR. On the contrary, I am going, Mr. Hobson, with the
profound conviction that I leave you in excellent hands. (R.
_of table_.) One prescription is on the table, Mrs. Mossop.
The other two are total abstinence and--you.

MAGGIE (_nodding amiably_). Good morning.

DOCTOR. Good morning.

(_Exit_ DOCTOR L. MAGGIE _picks up prescription and
follows to door_, L.) MAGGIE. Tubby!

(_She stands by door_, TUBBY _just enters inside it_.)

Go round to Oldfield Road and ask my husband to come here and get
this made up at Hallow's on your way back.

TUBBY. Yes, Miss--Mrs. Mossop.

MAGGIE. Tell Mr. Mossop that I want him quick.

(TUBBY _nods and goes_. MAGGIE _goes_ R.)

HOBSON. Maggie, you know I can't be an abstainer. A man of my
habits. At my time of life.

MAGGIE. You can if I come here to make you.

HOBSON. Are you coming?

MAGGIE. I don't know yet. I haven't asked my husband.

HOBSON. You ask Will Mossop! Maggie, I'd better thoughts of you.
Making an excuse like that to me. If you want to come you'll come
so what Will Mossop says and well you know it.

MAGGIE. I don't want to come, father. I expect no holiday
existence here with you to keep in health. But if Will tells me
it's my duty I shall come. (_Sits_ R. _of table_.)

HOBSON. You know as well as I do asking Will's a matter of form.

MAGGIE. Matter of form! (_Rises and moves_ R.) My husband a
matter of form! He's the--

HOBSON. I dare say, but he is not the man that wears the breeches
at your house.

MAGGIE. My husband's my husband, father, so whatever else he is.
And my home's my home, and all and what you said of it now to
Doctor MacFarlane's a thing you'll pay for. It's no gift to a
married woman to come back to the home she's shut of. (_Moves
back_ R. C.)

HOBSON. Look here, Maggie, you're talking straight and I'll talk
straight and all. When I'm set I'm set. You're coming here. I
didn't want you when that doctor said it, but, by gum, I want you
now. It's been my daughters' hobby crossing me. Now you'll come
and look after me.

MAGGIE. All of us?

HOBSON. No. Not all of you. You're eldest.

MAGGIE. There's another man with claims on me.

HOBSON. I'll give him claims. Aren't I your father?

(ALICE _enters_ L. _She is rather elaborately dressed for
so early in the day, and languidly haughty_.)

MAGGIE. And I'm not your only daughter.

ALICE. You been here long, Maggie?

MAGGIE. A while.

ALICE (L.C.). Ah, well, a fashionable solicitor's wife doesn't
rise so early as the wife of a working cobbler. You'd be up when
Tubby came.

MAGGIE. A couple of hours earlier. (_Moves up_ R.)

ALICE (_going to_ HOBSON). You're looking all right, father.
You've quite a colour.

HOBSON. I'm very ill.

MAGGIE (_sitting_ R. _of table_). He's not so well, Alice.
The doctor says one of us must come and live here to look
after him.

ALICE. I live in the Crescent myself.

MAGGIE. I've heard it was that way on. Somebody's home will have
to go.

ALICE. I don't think I can be expected to come back to this after
what I've been used to lately.

HOBSON. Alice!

ALICE. Well, I say it ought to be Maggie, father. She's the
eldest. (_Moves to above table_.)

HOBSON. And I say you're--

(_What she is we don't learn, as_ VICKEY _enters
effectively and goes effusively to_ HOBSON, R. ALICE _moves
round to_ L.)

VICKEY. Father, you're ill! (_Embracing him_.)

HOBSON. Vickey! My baby! At last I find a daughter who cares for
me.

VICKEY. Of course I care. Don't the others? (_Releasing herself
from his grasp_.)

HOBSON. You will live with me, Vickey, won't you?

VICKEY. What? (_She stands away from him_.)

MAGGIE. One of us is needed to look after him.

VICKEY. Oh, but it can't be me. In my circumstances, Maggie!

MAGGIE. What circumstances?

ALICE. Don't you know?

MAGGIE. No.

(VICKEY _whispers to_ MAGGIE.)

HOBSON. What's the matter? What are you all whispering about?

MAGGIE. Father, don't you think you ought to put a collar on
before Will comes? (_Goes to him_, R.)

HOBSON. Put a collar on for Will Mossop? There's something wrong
with your sense of proportion, my girl.

VICKEY (_moving_ C.). You're always pretending to folk about
your husband, Maggie, but you needn't keep it up with us. We know
Will here.

MAGGIE. Father, either I can go home or you can go and put a
collar on for Will. I'll have him treated with respect. (_Going
up to window_.)

ALICE. I expect you'd put a collar on in any case, father.

HOBSON (_rising_). Of course I should. I'm going to put a
collar on. But understand me, Maggie, it's not for the sake of
Will Mossop. It's because my neck is cold.

(_Exit_ HOBSON R.)

MAGGIE (_coming down_). Now, then, which of us is it to be?

VICKEY. It's no use looking at me like that, Maggie. I've told
you I'm expecting.

MAGGIE. I don't see that that rules you out. It might happen to
any of us.

ALICE. Maggie!

MAGGIE. What's the matter? Children do happen to married women,
and we're all married.

ALICE. Well, I'm not going to break my home up and that's flat.

VICKEY. My child comes first with me.

MAGGIE. I see. You've got a house of furniture, and you've got a
child coming, so father can drink himself to death for you.

ALICE. That's not fair speaking. I'd come if there were no one
else. You know very well it's your duty, Maggie.

VICKEY. Duty? I should think it 'ud be a pleasure to live here
after a year of two cellars.

MAGGIE. I've had thirty years of the pleasure of living with
father, thanks. (_Going to chair_ R. _of table and
sitting_.)

ALICE. Do you mean to say you won't come?

MAGGIE. It isn't for me to say at all. It's for my husband.

VICKEY. Oh, do stop talking about your husband. If Alice and I
don't need to ask our husbands, I'm sure you never need ask
yours. Will Mossop hasn't the spirit of a louse and we know it as
well as you do. (_Crosses to fire-place_.)

MAGGIE. Maybe Will's come on since you saw him, Vickey. It's
getting a while ago. There he is now in the shop. I'll go and put
it to him.

(_Rises and exits_ MAGGIE L.)

VICKEY. Stop her! (_Going to door_.)

ALICE (_detaining her_). Let her do it in her own way. I'm
not coming back here.

VICKEY (R. _of_ ALICE). Nor me.

ALICE. There's only Maggie for it.

VICKEY. Yes. But we've got to be careful, Alice. She mustn't have
things too much her way.

ALICE. It's our way as well, isn't it?

VICKEY. Not coming is our way. But when she's with him alone and
we're not--(_Stopping_.)

ALICE. Yes.

VICKEY. Can't you see what I'm thinking, Alice? It is so
difficult to say. Suppose poor father gets worse and they are
here, Maggie and Will, and you and I--out of sight and out of
mind. Can't you see what I mean?

ALICE. He might leave them his money!

VICKEY. That would be most unfair to us.

ALICE. Father must make his will at once. Albert shall draw it
up. (_Goes_ R.)

VICKEY. That's it, Alice. And don't let's leave Maggie too long
with Will. She's only telling him what to say, and then she'll
pretend he thought of it himself. (_She opens door left_.)
Why, Will, what are you doing up the ladder?

WILLIE (_off_ L). I'm looking over the stock.

VICKEY (_indignantly_). It's father's stock, not yours.

WILLIE. That's so. But if I'm to come into a thing I like to know
what I'm coming into.

ALICE. That's never Willie Mossop.

VICKEY (_still by door_). Are you coming into this?

(WILL _enters_ L. MAGGIE _follows him. He is not
aggressive, but he is prosperous and has self-confidence.
Against_ ALICE _and_ VICKEY _he is consciously on his
mettle_.)

WILLIE. That's the proposal, isn't it?

VICKEY (C.). I didn't know it was.

WILLIE. Now, then, Maggie, go and bring your father down and be
sharp. I'm busy at my shop, so what they are at his.

(MAGGIE _takes_ WILL'S _hat off and puts it on settee,
then exits up_ R.)

It's been a good business in its day, too, has Hobson's.

ALICE. What on earth do you mean? It's a good business still.

WILLIE. You try to sell it, and you'd learn. Stock and goodwill
'ud fetch about two hundred. (_Goes_ C.)

VICKEY. Don't talk so foolish, Will. Two hundred for a business
like father's!

WILLIE. Two hundred as it is. Not as it was in our time, Vickey.

ALICE. Do you mean to tell me father isn't rich?

WILLIE. If you'd not married into the law you'd know what they
think of your father to-day in trading circles. Vickey ought to
know. Her husband's in trade.

VICKEY (_indignantly_). My Fred in trade!

WILLIE. Isn't he?

VICKEY. He's in the wholesale. That's business, not trade. And
the value of father's shop is no affair of yours, Will Mossop.
(_Moves_ L.)

WILLIE. Now I thought maybe it was. If Maggie and me are coming
here--

VICKEY. You're coming to look after father.

WILLIE. Maggie can do that with one hand tied behind her back.
I'll look after the business.

ALICE. You'll do what's arranged for you.

WILLIE. I'll do the arranging, Alice. If we come here, we come
here on my terms.

VICKEY. They'll be fair terms.

WILLIE. I'll see they're fair to me and Maggie. (_Goes_ R.)

ALICE. Will Mossop, do you know who you're talking to?

WILLIE (_turning_). Aye. My wife's young sisters. Times have
changed a bit since you used to order me about this shop, haven't
they, Alice?

ALICE. Yes. I'm Mrs. Albert Prosser now.

WILLIE. So you are, to outsiders. And you'd be surprised the
number of people that call me Mr. Mossop now. We do get on in the
world, don't we? (ALICE _moves up stage_.)

VICKEY. Some folks get on too fast.

WILLIE. It's a matter of opinion. (_Coming_ C.) I know
Maggie and me gave both of you a big leg up when we arranged your
marriage portions, but I dunno that we're grudging you the sudden
lift you got.

(_Enter_ HOBSON _and_ MAGGIE.)

WILLIE. Good morning, father. I'm sorry to hear you're not so
well.

HOBSON. I'm a changed man, Will. (_He comes down and sits on
arm-chair_, R.)

WILLIE. There used to be room for improvement.

HOBSON. What! (_He starts up_.)

MAGGIE. Sit down, father.

WILLIE (_sitting_ R. _of table_). Aye. Don't let us be
too long about this. You've kept me waiting now a good while and
my time's valuable. I'm busy at my shop.

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