THE LANDSWOMAN
December, I 9 I 8
WILL. Come, come, mistus, doant cry now. I will try and
ou~ middlin' l will. But you do beat the devil round the
goo;eberry bush so.
li&s . .BR!.KEFIELD. I'm that done over with all the worry I
i.a;;h
dront know how to bear myself. What's the matter with the
land, Wtll? We useter have enough butter and milk from old
Farmer Akworth, or if so be we didn't, there was allus the shop.
What's wrong ? The land's there all right.
WILL. It's the labour and sweat that's gone to the war, mistus
-yes, that's what 'tis-the young blood and sweat dripping on
tho battlefields 'stead of on the fields here-that's what 'tis,
surelye.
,
Uas. BR!.KEFIELD. Oh, my poor liddle Billy I ll{y poor
lidd.le boy I We haven't had no word of him for tnree weeks.
WILL. Ho never was no good at booklarning he warn't, not
like our liddle Jenny.
[JENSY rushes into the room, carrying the kettle.
JESNY. Feyther, feyther I The gurt sow I she's took bad·
r want to look at her, and she~~ turuin' roun· and roun'.
[She puts the kettle on the fire and comes up to her
father . ll{as. BR!.KEFIELD abandons herself to
des pair again.
YRs . BRA.KEFIELD.
Turnin' roun' and roun' ;
now ! Whatever shall we do?
old sow'll
[She cries again.]
Wr:.L [s~!l.:tonty energetic]. Wnore's the bottle of stuff I had
• , n 1·J~tor , tim3 my leg was so bad ? "ris the only drink we've
• :.
Where is it ?
_
[JENNY runs to the dresser and pulls down a for·
bidding looking black bottle.
JE.-XY. H ere 'tis, Feyther.
.I .. . .
WI.LL. Powerful strong tt is surelye. [He sniffs the bottle.]
Er wJ've got nothin' else. Here, mistus, just a drop o' hot
:er and a drop of milk.
Yl.-5. B&AKEFI.ELD.
You can't have milk, that's certain sure.
[She goes to the kettle and p ntrs some hot water into
a cup. WtLL fills up from the medicine-bottle
and stirs the mixture with a knife.
Yll5. B&!.KEFIELD. There ye are. Why doant ye take a stick.
£~·u that stommaky. 15
[WILL p!lys no attention, but goes out carrying
the medicine by the door to the bltck. JENNY
stays behind.
l::,;s y. I'm going to look for that fairisee. They do say
- ~m p3art lidile things can make a medicine that'll . ..
Y~>. B&,>KEFIELD [in a voice of thunder]. 'A done, do! No more
i 1. ))lL [ ~ t rl::UJ:3.
•u~es
J:!~re's
yoar tea,
h~re's
your duff pudding,
JENNY sit down]; and doant you grizzle about it.
[She trtlces the kettle a·nd p JUrs water into the tea-pot.
There is a knock on the door. She pauses, kettle
in hand. The knock comes again.
l[~ . BRA.KEFIELD. Whoever can that be s nud~ing along here ?
~ :nl o)d snuffy, I suppooe. I dtJn't hoar no one coming up my
::oo