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THE DEACON'S HAT
BY
JEANNETTE MARKS
_The Deacon's Hat_ is reprinted by special arrangement with Miss Jeannette Marks and with Little, Brown and Company, Boston, the publisher of _Three Welsh Plays_, from which this play is taken. All rights reserved. For permission to perform address the author in care of the publisher.
JEANNETTE MARKS
Jeannette Marks, well-known essayist, poet, and playwright, was born in 1875 at Chattanooga, Tennessee, but spent her early life in Philadelphia, where her father, the late William Dennis Marks, was professor of dynamics in the University of Pennsylvania and president of the Edison Electric Light Company. She attended school in Dresden, and in 1900 was graduated from Wellesley College. She obtained her master's degree from Wellesley in 1903. Her graduate studies were continued at the Bodleian Library and at the British Museum. Since 1901 she has been on the staff of the English Department at Mount Holyoke College, South Hadley, Ma.s.sachusetts. Her chief courses are Nineteenth Century Poetry and Play-writing.
Miss Marks's interest in Welsh life is the result of her hiking several summers among the Welsh hills and valleys. She became intimately acquainted with Welsh peasant life. It is said that Edward k.n.o.bloch, well-known dramatist, on one of her homeward voyages from one of her summer outings in Wales, pointed out to Miss Marks the dramatic possibilities of the material she had thus acquired. _Three Welsh Plays_ was the result. Two of these plays, without the author's knowledge, were entered in 1911 for the Welsh National Theatre prize contest. To her credit, the plays won the prize. The complete volume appeared in 1917.
_The Deacon's Hat_ is a fine study of the life of the common folk of Wales.
CHARACTERS
DEACON ROBERTS, _a stout, oldish Welshman_ HUGH WILLIAMS, _an earnest, visionary young man who owns Y Gegin_ NELI WILLIAMS, _his capable wife_ MRS. JONES, _the Wash, a stout, kindly woman who wishes to buy soap_ MRS. JENKINS, _the Midwife, after pins for her latest baby_ TOM MORRIS, _the Sheep, who comes to buy tobacco and remains to pray_
THE DEACON'S HAT[I]
SCENE: _A little shop called Y Gegin (The Kitchen), in Bala, North Wales._
TIME: _Monday morning at half-past eleven._
_To the right is the counter of Y Gegin, set out with a bountiful supply of groceries; behind the counter are grocery-stocked shelves. Upon the counter is a good-sized enamel-ware bowl filled with herring pickled in brine and leek, also a basket of fresh eggs, a jar of pickles, some packages of codfish, a half dozen loaves of bread, a big round cheese, several pounds of b.u.t.ter wrapped in print paper, etc., etc._
_To the left are a cheerful glowing fire and ingle._
_At the back center is a door; between the door and the fire stands a grandfather's clock with a s.h.i.+ning bra.s.s face. Between the clock and the door, back centre, is a small tridarn [Welsh dresser] and a chair. From the rafters hang flitches of bacon, hams, bunches of onions, herbs, etc. On either side of the fireplace are latticed windows, showing a glimpse of the street. Before the fire is a small, round, three-legged table; beside it a tall, straight-backed chair._
_Between the table and left is a door which is the entrance to Y Gegin and from which, on a metal elbow, dangles a large bell._
_At rise of curtain Hugh Williams enters at back centre, absorbed in reading a volume of Welsh theological essays. He is dressed in a brightly striped vest, a short, heavy cloth coat, cut away in front and with lapels trimmed with bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, swallowtails behind, also trimmed with bra.s.s b.u.t.tons, stock wound around his neck, and tight trousers down to his boot-tops._
_Neli Williams, his wife, a comely, capable young woman, busy with her knitting every instant she talks, is clad in her market costume, a scarlet cloak, and a tall black Welsh beaver. Over her arm is an immense basket._
NELI. [_Commandingly._] Hughie, put down that book!
HUGH. [_Still going on reading._] Haven't I just said a man is his own master, whatever!
NELI. Hughie, ye're to mind the shop while I'm gone!
HUGH. [_Patiently._] Yiss, yiss.
NELI. I don't think ye hear a word I am sayin' whatever.
HUGH. Yiss, I hear every word ye're sayin'.
NELI. What is it, then?
HUGH. [_Weakly._] 'Tis all about--about--the--the weather whatever!
NELI. Ye've not heard a word, an' ye're plannin' to read that book from cover to cover, I can see.
HUGH. [_A little too quickly._] Nay, I have no plans....
[_He tucks book away in back coat pocket over-hastily._
NELI. Hugh!
HUGH. [_Weakly._] Nay, I _have_ no plans whatever!
NELI. [_Reproachfully._] Hugh--_ie_! 'Twould be the end of sellin'
anythin' to anybody if I leave ye with a book whatever! Give me that book!
HUGH. [_Obstinately._] Nay, I'll no read the book.
NELI. Give me that book!
HUGH. [_Rising a little._] Nay. I say a man is his own master whatever!
NELI. [_Finding the book hidden in his coat-tail pocket._] Is he? Well, I'll no leave ye with any masterful temptations to be readin'.
HUGH. Ye've no cause to take this book away from me.
NELI. [_Opens book and starts with delight._] 'Tis Deacon Roberts's new book on "The Flamin' Wickedness of Babylon." Where did ye get it?
HUGH. [_Rea.s.sured by her interest._] He lent it to me this morning.
NELI. [_Resolutely._] Well, I will take it away from ye this noon till I am home again whatever!
HUGH. [_Sulkily._] Sellin' groceries is not salvation. They sold groceries in Babylon; Deacon Roberts says so.
NELI. [_Looking at book with ill-disguised eagerness._] I dunno as anybody ever found salvation by givin' away all he had for nothin'! 'Tis certain Deacon Roberts has not followed that way.
HUGH. [_Still sulkily._] A man is his own master, I say.
