much the child's layette cost?
—Don't talk to me of it! It gets on my nerves, my brother's extravagance does. I often quarrel with him because he's so improvident.
—They say a stork brings babies. What sort of a stork is it?
[The young men burst out laughing.
—Don't talk nonsense. I gave birth to five children right in your presence, and I'm no stork, thank the Lord.
[The young men burst our laughing again. The Elderly Woman eyes them long and sternly.
—It's only a superstition. Children are born in an absolutely natural way, firmly established by science. They've moved to new quarters now.
—Who?
—The engineer and his wife. Their old place was chilly and damp. They complained to the landlord several times, but he paid no attention.
—I think it's better to live in a small place that's warm than in a large place that's damp. You are liable to catch your death of cold and rheumatism if you live in a damp house.
—I have a friend, too, who lives in a very damp house. And I too.
Very damp.
—There are so many damp places nowadays.
—Tell me, please—I've been wanting to ask you a long time—how do you remove a grease stain from light-colored material?
—Woollen?
—No, silk.
[The child's crying is heard behind the scene.
—Take a piece of ice and rub it on the spot hard. Then take a hot iron and press the spot.
—No? Fancy, how simple! I heard benzine was better.
—No, benzine is good for dark material. For light goods ice is better.
—I wonder whether smoking is allowed here. Somehow at never occurred to me before whether one may or may not smoke where there is a new-born baby.
—It never occurred to me either. How strange! I know it isn't proper to smoke at funerals, but here—
—Nonsense! Of course you may smoke.
—Smoking is a bad habit just the same. You are still a very young man and ought to take good care of your health. There are many occasions in life when good health is highly essential.
—But smoking stimulates.
—Believe me, it's a very unhealthy stimulant. When I was young and reckless, I was also guilty of using, or rather abusing, tobacco—
—Mamma, listen to him crying. My, how he's crying! Does he want milk, mamma?
[The young men burst out laughing. The Elderly Woman looks at them sternly.
THE SECOND SCENE
LOVE AND POVERTY
The entire place is filled with a warm, bright light. A large, very poor room, high walls, the color of old rose, covered here and there with beautiful, fantastic, roughly drawn designs. To the right are two lofty windows, eight panes in each, with the darkness of night glooming through them. Two poor beds, two chairs, and a bare table, on which stands a half-broken pitcher of water and a pretty bunch of flowers.
In the darkest corner stands Someone in Gray, the candle in His hand now reduced by a third, but the flame still very bright, high, and white. It throws a powerful light on His face and chin.
Enter the Neighbors, dressed in light, gay dresses, their hands full of flowers, grasses, and fresh branches of oak and birch. They run about the room, scattering them. Their faces are merry, simple, and good-natured.
NEIGHBORS' CONVERSATION
—How poor they are! Look, they haven't even a single spare chair.
—And no curtains in the windows.
—And no pictures on the walls.
—How poor they are! All they eat is hard bread.
—And all they drink is water, cold water from the spring.
—They don't own any clothes at all except what they have on. She always goes about in her rosy dress with her neck bare, which makes her look like a young girl.
—And he wears his blouse and loose necktie, which makes him look like an artist, and makes the dogs bark at him.
—And makes all the respectable people disapprove of him.
—Dogs hate the poor. I saw three dogs attack him yesterday. He beat them off with a stick and shouted: "Don't you dare to touch my trousers; they're my last pair!" And he laughed, and the dogs flung themselves at him and showed their teeth and barked viciously.
—I saw two respectable people, a lady and a gentleman, meet him on the street to-day. They were terribly frightened and crossed to the other side. "He'll ask for money," said the gentleman. "He'll kill us," piped the lady. From the other side of the street they looked back at him and held on to their pockets. He shook his head and laughed.
—He's such a jolly good fellow.
—They're always laughing.
—And singing.
—It's he who sings. She dances.
—In her rosy dress, with her little bare neck.
—It does one good to look at them. They are so young and wholesome.
—I am sorry for them. They're starving. Do you understand? They're actually going without food.
—Yes, it's true. They had more clothes and furniture, but they sold every bit, and now they've nothing more to sell.
—I know. She had such pretty earrings, and she sold them to buy bread.
—He had a beautiful black frock-coat, the one in which he was married, and he sold that too.
—The only thing they'll have left is their engagement rings. How poor they are!
—That's nothing. I was once young myself, and I know what it is.
—What did you say, grandpa?
—I said it's nothing, nothing at all.
—Look, the mere thought of them makes grandpa want to sing.
—And dance.
[They laugh.
—He is so kind. He made my boy a bow and arrow.
—She cried with me when my daughter was ill.
—He helped me mend the rickety fence. He's strong.
—It's nice to have such good neighbors. Their youth warms our cold old age. Their jolliness drives away our cares.
—But their room is like a prison, it's so empty.
—No, it's like a temple. It's so bright.
—Look, they have flowers on the table, the flowers she picked on her walk in the country in her rosy dress with her little bare neck. Here are lilies-of-the-valley. The dew hasn't dried on them yet.
—There is the burning campion.
—And violets.
—Don't touch; don't touch