The Scrubtown sewing circle's Thanksgiving

SCENE.⁠—A quiet country parlor. Mrs. Tattle, the president, seated at left of stage. Mary Ann, the secretary, seated at small table in front of the president. The four others on chairs diagonally at right of stage, Betsey in front, Granny next. All have sewing or knitting in their hands except the president, and are talking energetically.

Mrs. Tattle (rising). This here society will now please come to order.

(The hubbub slackens, but two or three persist in disputing.)

Mrs. T. (stamping with foot). Order! ORDER! (All silent) The first thing on the program will be the readin’ of the minutes of last meetin’. The sec’etary will please read the minutes.

Mary Ann Green (rises, blows her nose loudly, clears her throat, then reads). Minutes of Scrubtown Sewin’ Circle, Nov. 22nd, 1909. Meetin’ held at Mrs. Tattle’s home; called to order by the president. Minutes of last meetin’ read and improved.

Granny. Moved! Who’s moved?

Betsey (in a loud whisper). Hush! Granny, she said improved.

Granny. Oh! she did, eh?

Miss Green (glares at Granny, then goes on). It was moved by Miss Percilla Primp, that seein’ as how the new Minister had just lost his wife, that we make him a donation party, to help him in the care of his poor, little, orphant children, and that the secretary be appointed to take note of the proceedings and report at next meetin’. The motion was seconded by Mrs. Gossip, and was adopted by the society.

Granny. Yes, we should have more piety in our meetin’s. Now, when I was young and belonged to the Pumpkin Ridge Sewin’ Circle, we was awful pious. We⁠—

Betsey. Hush! Granny!

Granny (holding hand to ear). Hey! Ye’ll have ter talk a leetle louder. My hearin’ ain’t nigh so good as it was fifty years ago.

Betsey. She said society. Not piety.

Granny. Oh! she did, eh?

Miss Green (frowning). It was further decided by this honorable society, that as the next meetin’ would fall on Thanksgivin’ Day, that we each tell what we have ter be thankful for; as it would help us ter have a better spirit of gratitude toward our Maker and each other. After our usual sewin’ was finished, and we had eat, we decided, that as there was no further business to come before the society, we would adjourn until Thanksgivin’, to meet at Mrs. Gossip’s house. (Sits)

Mrs. Tattle. If no one has no fault to find with these here minutes they will stand as read. (Waits a moment) Well as we all seem to think they are correct, they will stand improved. The first business this evening will be to hear our secretary’s report of the Donation party.

Miss Green (rises and reads from paper). Havin’ been appointed to report the proceedings at the Donation party, I beg to submit that we all met at the time appointed at the Minister’s house, an’ seein’ his recent bereavement, we offered him our condolements, and assured him that anyone of us would be rejoiced to be a mother to his little ones. The donations were various. Granny Noddle had got the idea that it was to be a weddin’, an’ she brought an old slipper and a bag of rice. Betsey brought a quart tin of lard. Mrs. Gossip, a pillowsham. Persilla had persuaded Mr. Fitzpatrick to hand the Minister two dollars, for her weddin’ fee in advance. Mrs. Tattle brought three pairs of her dead and gone husband’s stockings, of her own knitting, and a hank of yarn to darn the holes in ’em.

Mrs. Tattle. I’m sure the Minister must have been thankful. But Mary Ann, you have forgotten to name your gift.

Percilla. Not much! Nary forget! She laid on the table a paper of hair-pins, ha! ha!

Mary Ann. It’s not to laugh. They will come in handy for his next.

Percilla. Wouldn’t you like the chance to claim ’em?

Mary Ann. You old cat!

Mrs. Tattle. Girls! Girls! For shame!

Granny (explosively). What’s that? What did you say, Mary Ann?

Mary Ann. Oh! Nothing particular.

Granny. Tickle her? Tickle who?

Betsey. She said, nothing particular.

Granny. Oh! She did, eh?

Mrs. Tattle. The next thing in order will be to hear the testimonies of thanks. Mrs. Gossip, as ye are the hostess, we will hear from you first.

Mrs. Gossip (talking through her nose and in a drawling tone). Wal, Miss President, I ain’t got much to be thankful fur; but I’m awful thankful fur what I have got. Wal, first, I’m thankful that I’m alive, and that John Henry is alive, and all of our children, includin’ Martha Ellen, and Andrew Jackson, and Daniel Webster, and Samantha Ann, and Thomas Jefferson, and George Washington, and the baby, we ain’t named her yit, is all alive, (dropping her voice) for funerals do cost a lot.

Granny. Half past five! (Rising feebly) Come, Betsey, we must be arter gittin’ fur hum. I tell ye when it begins ter git cool in the evenin’s, I want ter be at hum by the fire; fur it jist ’pears like every bit of cold there is, jist gits inter my old jints. I tell ye rheumatiz is an awful bad thing. (Turns to Miss Primp) Do yer ever have rheumatiz, Miss? (Sits)

Miss Primp (snappishly). No! you don’t need to think I’m that old.

Betsey. Granny, what’s the matter with you. She didn’t say five, she said alive.

Granny. Oh! She did, eh?

Mrs. Tattle. Miss Betsey, we’ll hear from you next.

Betsey. Well, as Mrs. Gossip says, “I’m thankful that I’m alive.” I’m thankful, too, that turkeys air so cheap; so Granny and me can have one fur our Thanksgivin’ dinner. I tell you I’ve done lots of contrivin’ fur to earn enough ter buy that air gobbler. I jist made up my mind last year, when nobody invited us out to dinner, that Granny and me would have the biggest turkey I could find fur this year; and that we would eat it all ourselves. But then I have concluded, that I would invite the new Minister over; fur he hain’t got no lovin’ companion ter look after him now, an’ cook his dinner fur him. Well, I was goin’ ter tell you how I got that air turkey. I made a lot of yeast and sold that at five cents a quart. Then I saved all the eggs our old speckled hen laid fur two months and sold them fur cash, and then I knitted five pairs of mittens fur Deacon Jones’ children, and that jist made enough. And I jist put it in our old chiny sugar bowl on the top shelf in the cupboard, an’ waited until yisterday, when I went down to the market and bought that air fowel; and I’ve got it on cookin’ now, so it would be sure an’ be done fur five o’clock; fur that is when I told the Minister to be there. So I’m thankful fur the last, that the good Lord gave me plenty of brains to scheme with.

Granny. Yes that’s so, Betsey has got jist lots of brains.

Mrs. Tattle. Miss Percilla Primp, as ye have jist lately joined our society, we’ll hear your Thanksgivin’ experience next.

Miss Primp. I say like Mrs. Gossip, “I’m thankful that I’m alive.” I am also thankful the good Lord does not intend me to be an old maid.

Miss Green (aside). Imperdent wretch!

Miss Primp. For last night Mr. Leander Fitzpatrick asked me to share his joys and his sorrows, his poverty and his wealth; and I told him “yes.” I think any girl ought to be proud and thankful when she is rescued by an adorable man from the terrors which await the life of an old maid, and makes her the queen of his heart and home.

(Note.⁠—Just here the song “No one to Love, None to Caress,” would be appropriate.)

And when I think of all this, I say, many, many thanks for savin’ me from bein’ an old maid, oh, Lord!

Granny. Lard! did ye say? That makes me think, Betsey, we’ve got another gallon of lard to sell. It is good, clean, pure lard, too; fur we rendered it ourselves from that little Jersey pig we had killed t’other day. (To Miss Primp) Did yer want to buy some lard, Miss? Maybe Leander would like some.

Miss Primp. No, I don’t!

Miss Green. You’re in luck, Percilla, better late than never.

Miss Primp (aside). Old cat!

Mrs. Tattle. Well, Granny, ye ain’t told your story yit. We will now be glad to hear from you.

Granny (in a cracked trembling voice). It seems ter be the fashion ter say, “I’m glad that I’m alive,” so I’ll say it, tew. Wal, like Mrs. Gossip, “I’m glad, that I’m alive.” Although I’m approachin’ my eighty-second year, I yit am almost as spry as a cricket, and I’m thankful fur it, tew. (Rises, hands her cane to Betsey, spreads her skirt with both hands, makes a tottering courtesy and a few funny attempts at dance steps. All applaud)

Betsey (rises, takes hold of Granny). Granny! (Seats her)

Granny. But whenever the good Lord calls me ter go, I’m ready and willin’; fur I’ve tried ter live a good life, so that, when I hear his gentle voice a callin’ me, an’ I leave this yarth to come back no more, and he takes me by the hand an’ leads me, oh, so gently, through the dark valley of death, an’ when I reach the pearly gates of that beautiful city, an’ can hear the angels singin’ oh, so sweetly, an’ all my dear, departed, loved ones a callin’ tew me from the shinin’ palace of the Lord; then I know my tremblin’ old voice will grow clear an’ sweet ag’in, an’ I can sweetly sing the praises of Him, who has carried my cross fur me these many years, an’ at last I will be at rest.

Mrs. Tattle. Wal, Granny, you seem ter have a faith, that is nigh about wonderful to behold, an’ we all love you, dear old soul. Miss Mary Ann Green, we will now hear from you.

Miss Green. Like Mrs. Gossip, I’m thankful that I’m alive. I wish, that I could have the faith that Granny has got; but it jist seems like I never will have, fur livin’ all alone by myself as I do, an’ bein’ pestered as I am by the horrid boys, I jist can’t cultivate an angelic spirit. But last night I got the best of my temper. When school was out an’ I was out a pilin’ up my pumpkins, them boys come by an’ begun to yell, “pickles,” “old maid fur sale,” an’ the like. An’ one actually made fun of my curls. He said, “boys, look at the old gal’s curls. Regular cork-screws, ain’t they?” Then they all giggled. Anybody with eyes can see, that my curls are real attractive an’ becomin’. (Tenderly pats her curls)

Mary Ann (aside to Mrs. Tattle). I hope she’s pinned ’em on tight. (Giggles)

Miss Green. One of them varmints of boys, then throwed a stone at my cat an’ missed it an’ hit the cage that my parrot was in, an’ upset it an’ nearly scared the poor bird into a spasam. I was jist gittin’ ready ter throw a pumpkin at ’em, when somethin’ seemed ter whisper right in my ear, “Hold yer temper, Mary Ann, hold yer temper.” An’ I jist said ter myself, “I will.” So I did, an’ I’m thankful fur it, tew.

Mrs. Tattle. That was quite a glorious victory under the circumstances, Mary Ann. I have often wondered why you didn’t get married, you must have had chances.

Miss Green. When I was young an’ started teachin’ school, I didn’t care to take any chances. I wanted a sure thing, and young men ain’t to be depended upon. There was James Binny, for instance; “I love you,” sez he, “an’ I would go to the world’s end fur you.” “You would not go to the end of the world for me, James,” sez I. “The world,” sez I, “is round like a ball. One of the first lessons in geography is devoted to the shape of the globe. You must have studied it when you were a boy.” “Of course I did,” sez he, “but⁠—” “It is no longer a theory,” sez I, “it is an established fact.” “I knew it,” sez he, “but what I meant was that I would do anything to please you. Oh! Mary Ann,” sez he, “if you knew the achin’ void⁠—” “Void, James,” sez I, “there is no such thing as a void. Nature abhors a vacuum,” sez I, “but even admitting that there could be such a thing, how could the void you speak of be a void if there was an ache in it?” “Well,” sez he, “I’ve money in the savings bank,” sez he, “and I want you to be my wife,⁠—there!” “That might make a difference,” sez I, “to some gals, but not to me. You can take your savings bank off, and yourself too, I’m not a bargain counter.” An’ he went.

Mrs. Tattle. Good for you! Mary Ann, that was plucky. I guess ye are all through now, but me. I will now proceed ter give my experience. I say with Mrs. Gossip, I’m thankful that I’m alive; an’ bein’ a lone widder as I am, I’m thankful that the good Lord gave me good looks⁠—

Granny. Books! Do ye want tew borrow some books, Mrs. Tattle? We’ve got some extra fine ones at hum in our book-cupboard. One is a most mighty interestin’ one, tew. It tells all about a man, that got jealous of another man, jist because t’other man⁠—

Betsey. Hush, granny; she said looks.

Granny. Oh! she did, eh?

Mrs. Tattle. ⁠—and as long as I have ter wear black ter mourn Joshua, I’m glad that it is so becomin’. I am thankful, tew, that as long as Joshua had ter die, that he left me a little pile of money. It makes one’s chances so much better with the sterner sex. Fur I believe as young as I am, it would be goin’ agin the Lord’s will fur me ter stay single, when I can see it’s my bounden duty ter make home nice an’ comfortable fur some man. So whenever the Lord sees fit ter send me another husband, I will try and do my duty by him; no matter who it may be, an’ thank the Lord fur it. I guess that is all I can think on now; so if none of ye can think of any other business ter come before this here society, we will stand adjourned to meet in one week at the home of Granny Noddle. Ye may now stand adjourned. Let us sing our evening hymn. (All rise.)

Air⁠—“Long, Long Ago.”

CURTAIN.