THE SCARING OFF OF TEDDY DAWSON
A Comedy In One Act
By Harold Brighouse
London: Samuel French, Ltd
1911
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!