If I Had a Father

than if you was a horse⁠—no⁠—nor half a quarter so much. Don’t for God’s sake have a word to say to one of them. If I die, Susan⁠— Susan If you do, Matilda⁠—if you go and do that thing, I’ll take to gin⁠—that’s what I’ll do. Don’t say I didn’t act fair, and tell you beforehand. Mattie How can I help dying, Susan? Susan I say, Don’t do it, Mattie. We’ll fall out, if you do. Don’t do it, Matilda⁠—La! there’s that lumping Bill again⁠—always a comin’ up the stair when you don’t want him! Enter Bill. Mattie Well, Bill, how have you been getting on? Bill Pretty tollol, Mattie. But I can’t go on so. Holds out his stool. It ain’t respectable. Mattie What ain’t respectable? Everything’s respectable that’s honest. Bill Why, who ever saw a respectable shiner goin’ about with a three-legged stool for a blackin’ box? It ain’t the thing. The rig’lars chaffs me fit to throw it at their ’eads, they does⁠—only there’s too many on ’em, an’ I’ve got to dror it mild. A box I must have, or a feller’s ockypation’s gone. Look ye here! One bob, one tanner, and a joey! There! that’s what comes of never condescending to an ’a’penny. Susan Bless us! what mighty fine words we’ve got a waitin’ on us! Bill If I ’ave a weakness, Miss Susan, it’s for the right word in the right place⁠—as the coster said to the devil-dodger as blowed him up for purfane swearin’.⁠—When a gen’leman hoffers me an ’a’penny, I axes him in the purlitest manner I can assume, to oblige me by givin’ of it to the first beggar he may ’ave the good fort’n to meet. Some on ’em throws down the ’a’penny. Most on ’em makes it a penny.⁠—But I say, Mattie, you don’t want nobody arter you⁠—do you now? Mattie I don’t know what you mean by that, Bill. Bill You don’t want a father⁠—do you now? Do she, Susan? Susan We want no father a hectorin’ here, Bill. You ’ain’t seen one about, have you? Bill I seen a rig’lar swell arter Mattie, anyhow. Mattie What do you mean, Bill? Bill. A rig’lar swell⁠—I repeats it⁠—a astin’ arter a young woman by the name o’ Mattie. Susan Pulling him aside. Hold your tongue, Bill! You’ll kill her! You young viper! Hold your tongue, or I’ll twist your neck. Don’t you see how white she is? Mattie What was he like? Do tell me, Bill. Bill A long-legged rig’lar swell, with a gold chain, and a cane with a hivory ’andle. Susan He’s a bad man, Bill, and Mattie can’t abide him. If you tell him where she is, she’ll never speak to you again. Mattie Oh, Susan! what shall I do? Don’t bring him here, Bill. I shall have to run away again; and I can’t, for we owe a week’s rent. Susan There, Bill! Bill Don’t you be afeard, Mattie. He shan’t touch you. Nor the old one neither. Mattie There wasn’t an old man with him?⁠—not an old man with a long stick? Bill Not with him. Daddy was on his own hook? Mattie It must have been my father, Susan. Sinks back on her chair. Susan ’Tain’t the least likely.⁠—There, Bill! I always said you was no good! You’ve killed her. Bill Mattie! Mattie! I didn’t tell him where you was. Mattie Reviving. Run and fetch him, Bill⁠—there’s a dear! Oh! how proud I’ve been! If mother did say a hard word, she didn’t mean it⁠—not for long. Run, Bill, run and fetch him. Bill Mattie, I was a fetchin’ of him, but he wouldn’t trust me. And didn’t he cut up crusty, and collar me tight! He’s a game old cock⁠—he is, Mattie. Mattie Getting up and pacing about the room. Oh, Susan! my heart’ll break. To think he’s somewhere near and I can’t get to him! Oh my side! Don’t you know where he is, Bill? Bill He’s someveres about, and blow me if I don’t, find him!⁠—a respectable old party in a white pinny, an’ ’peared as if he’d go on a walkin’ till he walked hisself up staudin’. A scrumptious old party! Mattie Had he a stick, Bill? Bill Yes⁠—a knobby stick⁠—leastways a stick wi’ knobs all over it. Mattie That’s him, Susan! Bill I could swear to the stick. I was too near gittin’ at the taste on it not to know it again. Mattie When was it you saw him, Bill? Bill Yesterday, Mattie⁠—jest arter you give me the tart. I sawr him again this mornin’, but he wouldn’t place no confidence in me. Mattie Oh dear! Why didn’t you come straight to me, Bill? Bill If I’d only ha’ known as you wanted him! But that was sech a unlikely thing! It’s werry perwokin’! I uses my judgment, an’ puts my hoof in it! I am sorry, Mattie. But I didn’t know no better crying. Mattie Don’t cry, Bill. You’ll find him for me yet⁠—won’t you? Bill I’m off this indentical minute. But you see⁠— Susan There! there!⁠—now you mizzle. I don’t want no fathers here⁠—goodness knows; but the poor girl’s took a fancy to hers, and she’ll die if she don’t get him. Run now⁠—there’s a good boy! Exit Bill. You ’ain’t forgotten who’s a comin’, Mattie? Mattie No, indeed. Susan Well, I hope she’ll be civil, or I’ll just give her a bit of my mind. Mattie Not enough to change hers, I’m afraid. That sort of thing never does any good. Susan And am I to go a twiddlin’ of my thumbs, and sayin’ “yes, ma’am,” an’ “no, ma’am?” Not if I knows it, Matilda! Mattie You will only make her the more positive in her ill opinion of us. Susan An’ what’s that to me? Mattie Well, I don’t like to be thought a thief. Besides, Mrs. Clifford has been kind to us. Susan She’s paid us for work done; so has old Nathan. Mattie Did old Nathan ever give you a glass of wine when you took home his slops? Susan Oh! that don’t cost much; and besides, she takes it out in kingdom-come. Mattie You’re unfair, Susan. Susan Well, it’s little fairness I get. Mattie And