Alice Sit-By-The-Fire | Page 9

my life but hug my glorious boy.'
COSMO. 'Of course, I have my work.'
ALICE. 'His work! Do the officers love you, Cosmo?'
COSMO, degraded, 'Love me! I should think not.'
ALICE, 'I should like to ask them all to come and stay with us.'
COSMO, appalled, 'Great Scott, mother, you can't do things like that.'
ALICE. 'Can't I? Are you very studious, Cosmo?'
COSMO, neatly, 'My favourite authors are William Shakespeare and William Milton. They are grand, don't you think?'
ALICE. 'I'm only a woman, you see; and I'm afraid they sometimes boreme, especially William Milton.'
COSMO, with relief, 'Do they? Me, too.'
ALICE, on the verge of tears again, 'But not half so much as I bore my baby.'
COSMO, anxious to help her, 'What did you do to her?'
ALICE, appealingly, 'I couldn't help wanting to hold her in my arms, could I, Cosmo?'
COSMO, full of consideration, 'No, of course you couldn't.' He reflects. 'How did you take hold of her?'
ALICE. 'I suppose in some clumsy way.'
COSMO. 'Not like this, was it?'
ALICE, gloomily, 'I dare say.'
COSMO. 'You should have done it this way.'
He very kindly shows her how to carry a baby.
ALICE, with becoming humility, 'Thank you, Cosmo.'
He does not observe the gleam in her eye, and is in the high good humour that comes to any man when any woman asks him to show her how to do anything.
COSMO. 'If you like I'll show you with a cushion. You see this'--scoops it up--'is wrong; but this'--he does a little sleight of hand--'is right. Another way is this, with their head hanging over your shoulder, and you holding on firmly to their legs. You wouldn't think it was comfortable, but they like it.'
ALICE, adoring him. 'I see, Cosmo.' She practises diligently with the cushion. 'First this way--then this.'
COSMO. 'That's first-class. It's just a knack. You'll soon pick it up.'
ALICE, practising on him instead of the cushion, 'You darling boy!'
COSMO. 'I think I hear a boy calling the evening papers.'
ALICE, clinging to him, 'Don't go. There can be nothing in the evening papers about what my boy thinks of his mother.'
COSMO. 'Good lord, no.' He thinks quickly. 'You haven't seen Amy yet. It isn't fair of Amy. She should have been here to take some of it off me.'
ALICE. 'Cosmo, you don't mean that I bore you too!'
He is pained. It is now he who boldly encircles her. But his words, though well meant, are not so happy as his action. 'I love you, mother; and I don't think you're so yellow.'
ALICE, the belle of many stations, 'Yellow?' Her brain reels. 'Cosmo, do you think me plain?'
COSMO, gallantly, 'No, I don't. I'm not one of the kind who judge people by their looks. The soul, you know, is what I judge them by.'
ALICE. 'Plain? Me.'
COSMO, the comforter, 'Of course it's all right for girls to bother about being pretty.' He lures her away from the subject. 'I can tell you a funny thing about that. We had theatricals at Osborne one night, and we played a thing called "The Royal Boots."'
ALICE, clapping her hands, 'I played in that, too, last year.'
COSMO. 'You?'
ALICE. 'Yes. Why shouldn't I?'
COSMO. 'But we did it for fun.'
ALICE. 'So did we.'
COSMO, his views on the universe crumbling, 'You still like fun?'
ALICE. 'Take care, Cosmo.'
COSMO. 'But you're our mother.'
ALICE. 'Mustn't mothers have fun?
COSMO, heavily, 'Must they? I see. You had played the dowager.
ALICE. 'No, I didn't. I played the girl in the Wellington boots.'
COSMO, blinking, 'Mother, I played the girl in the Wellington boots.'
ALICE, happily, 'My son--this ought to bring us closer together.'
COSMO, who has not yet learned to leave well alone, 'But the reason I did it was that we were all boys. Were there no young ladies where you did it, mother?'
ALICE. 'Cosmo.' She is not a tamed mother yet, and in sudden wrath she flips his face with her hand. He accepts it as a smack. The Colonel foolishly chooses this moment to make his return. He is in high good-humour, and does not observe that two of his nearest relatives are glaring at each other.
COLONEL, purring offensively, 'It's all right now, Alice; she took to me at once.'
ALICE, tartly, 'Oh, did she!'
COLONEL. 'Gurgled at me--pulled my moustache.'
ALICE. 'I hope you got on with our dear son as well.'
COLONEL. 'Isn't he a fine fellow.'
ALICE. 'I have just been smacking his face,' She sits down and weeps, while her son stands haughtily at attention.
COLONEL, with a groan, 'Hst, I think you had better go and get that evening paper.'
Cosmo departs with his flag flying, and the bewildered husband seeks enlightenment.
'Smacked his face. But why, Alice?'
ALICE. 'He infuriated me.'
COLONEL. 'He seems such a good boy.'
ALICE, the lowly, 'No doubt he is. It must be very trying to have me for a mother.'
COLONEL. 'Perhaps you were too demonstrative?'
ALICE. 'I daresay. A woman he doesn't know! No wonder