



Produced by David Widger from page images generously
provided by the Internet Archive







THE SCARING OFF OF TEDDY DAWSON

A Comedy In One Act

By Harold Brighouse

London: Samuel French, Ltd

1911

[Illustration: 0007]





THE SCARING OFF OF TEDDY DAWSON

_Living room of a small house in an East End sidestreet. Door direct to
street back centre. Next it, window. Door to house l. Kitchen range R.
Dresser with crockery l. Centre is a table. Four deal chairs. At the
table Polly Bettesworth is ironing as the curtain rises. She is no more
than fifty, but a hard life has aged her in appearance beyond her years.
A cheap serge skirt and a dark printed blouse, with elastic-sided boots,
form her visible attire. Her husband (Andrew) throws open the door c.
and enters rapidly from street. He is a navvy, dressed in corduroy, with
a leather belt, and is in his shirt sleeves, having been to the nearest
public for the supper beer, which is in a large jug in his hand He is a
large man, and Polly seems small by con-start. It is evening, but still
light._

*****

Andrew (_angrily_). Where's our Liza?

Polly. What do yer want 'er for?

Andrew (_closing door_). I'm goin' to tan 'er 'ide for 'er.

Polly. What's to do? (_Calmly continuing ironing_)

Andrew (_crossing to door l._). I'll put beer in back to keep cool an'
then I'll tell yer. (_Opens left door, leaves jug inside and closes door
again._) Now, do yer know wot I've bin 'earing in the _Bluebell_ abart
our Liza?

Polly. Tell me.

Andrew. Liza's started courtin'! That's wot that whistlin's bin as we've
bin 'earing so much lately.

Polly (_stopping ironing_). Courtin'! At 'er age?

Andrew. It's Gawd's truth. Wait while I catch the bloke wot's after 'er.
I'll skin 'im alive.

Polly (_sitting_). Liza courtin'! I don't know wot things is comin' to
nowadays. Young girls are gettin' a set of forward hussies that haven't
hardly laid by their skipping-ropes afore they're thinkin' they're ould
enough to get wed. I fancied we'd brought 'er up different to that.

Andrew. I'll fancy 'er--'er an' 'er fancy man, an' all. I'll teach 'im
to come round 'ere whistling for our Liza. We ain't partin' with Liza
yet. She's the only 'un left to us now.

Polly. Yus. T'other girls went off a sight too young. Fust Martha an'
then Sally must be havin' their blokes an' gettin' wed. But I didn't
think it of Liza. She's kept 'er mouth shut. Them quiet 'uns are always
deep.

Andrew. Nature 'ull 'ave its way with 'em so what you do. (_Fiercely._)
But I'll spoil this chap's little game. I don't like 'im, not arf like
'im I don't.

Polly. Who is 'e?

Andrew. Teddy Dawson's 'is name.

Polly (_rising_). Teddy Dawson! Wild as they make 'em that chap is. 'E's
after no good with Liza.

Andrew. I'll mar 'is good looks if I catch 'im. 'E'll not be so keen on
comin' an' whistlin' at street corner like a canary in a fit. And I'll
give Liza the taste of my strap an' all.

Polly (_firmly_). Yer'll not touch the girl. Andrew.

Andrew. Who won't?

Polly. I'll give 'er a piece of my mind.

Andrew. An' I'll give 'er a piece of my belt.

Polly. Yer won't. Me an' yer didn't arsk our old 'uns for leave to start
courtin'. Liza ull go the way o' all flesh when 'er time comes.

Andrew. Yus, but 'er time ain't come yet, not by a bloomin' long chalk,
an' I'll make 'er know it.

Polly. Yer leave Liza to me. Yer can do wot yer loike with Teddy Dawson
an' welcome.

Andrew. I'll make 'im wish 'e'd never bin born.

Polly. I dunno. Yer've tried that road twice--with Martha's man an'
Sally's