 | The Whisper |  |
I.
A fine day in early autumn. The Dame's poor cottage, with the window open. Outside, children singing. The Dame and Cissy, who are fretting.The Children
(without).
The bee is a rover;
The brown bee is gay;
To feed on the clover,
He passes this way.
Brown bee, humming over,
What is it you say?
“The world is so happy—so happy to-day!”
The brown bee is gay;
To feed on the clover,
He passes this way.
Brown bee, humming over,
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“The world is so happy—so happy to-day!”
The martens have rested
All under the eaves;
The field-mice have jested
And played in the sheaves;
We have played, too, and nested,
And none of us grieves.
All over the wide world, who is it that grieves?
All under the eaves;
The field-mice have jested
And played in the sheaves;
We have played, too, and nested,
And none of us grieves.
All over the wide world, who is it that grieves?
Dame Dimity.
Who is it grieves? A pretty question that!
Cissy Cowslip.
They little think, poor things, what they are at.
Dame.
Their turn will come in time.
Cissy.
Mine has begun.
Dame Dimity, I do so love your son!
Dame.
Yes, yes; I looked on you as man and wife.
It has been my turn nearly all my life;
Up-hill and down-hill, troubled in and out,
With nearly always things to fret about.
Cissy.
And now our Fred is taken for the war;
Such things are hard to bear.
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Ay, that they are.
Poor Fred! (weeps.)
Cissy.
Poor Fred! (weeps.)
Dame.
Whatever shall we do?
Whisper.
(A distinct whisper is heard.)
The ironing. Do the ironing.
Dame.
(starting).
Did you hear
A whisper?
Cissy.
Yes, indeed. I heard it clear.
Did you hear what it said?
Dame.
It seemed to bid
Us do the ironing!
Cissy.
Yes, dame, that it did!
But let us try if it will speak once more.
[They each go down on one knee.
Please, Whisper, what was that you said before?
What shall we do in this distress of ours?
Whisper.
The ironing. Do the ironing.
Dame., Cissy.
Gracious powers!
Dame.
The ironing will not bring my Frederick back.
Cissy.
Nor keep him safe in battle.
Dame.
No, alack!
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And borrow a box-iron for the day;
I can't find mine.
Cissy.
And then what shall we do?
Whisper.
The ironing. Do the ironing.
Dame.
Make haste, girl.
Cissy.
I will; but my poor head is in a whirl.
[Exit to borrow the box-iron.
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