HUGH. [_Drearily._] Better? Aye, I'm better. It did not hurt me whatever.

NELI. [_Jerking head backwards toward_ DEACON ROBERTS _and again forming letters with lips_.] B-U-T-T-E-R!

HUGH. What, water? Nay, I don't want any water.

DEACON ROBERTS. [_Coughing, ill at ease and glancing suspiciously at bowl that has come to rest near his leg._] Ahem! 'Tis cold here, Mrs.

Williams, mum, an' I must be movin' on.

NELI. [_Savagely to_ DEACON.] Stay where ye are whatever!

DEACON ROBERTS. [_Unaccustomed to being spoken to this way by a woman._]

Well, indeed, mum, I could stay, but I'm thinkin' 'tis cold an'--I'd better go.

NELI. [_Again savagely._] Nay, stay! Stay for--for what ye came for whatever!

[NELI _looks challengingly at the_ DEACON. _Then she goes on wiping brine carefully from husband's hair and from behind his ears. The_ DEACON _coughs and pushes bowl away with the toe of his boot_.

DEACON ROBERTS. [_Smiling._] 'Tis unnecessary to remain then, mum.

NELI. [_To_ HUGH.] What did he get?

HUGH. [_Sneezing._] N--n--Achoo!--nothin'!

DEACON ROBERTS. [_With sudden interest, looking at the floor._] Well, indeed!

NELI. [_Suspiciously._] What is it?

[_He reaches down with difficulty to a small thick puddle on the floor just beneath his left coat-tail. He aims a red forefinger at it, lifts himself, and sucks fingertip._

DEACON ROBERTS. [_Smiling._] Ahem, Mrs. Williams, mum, 'tis excellent herrin' brine! [_From the basket on the counter he picks up an egg, which he tosses lightly and replaces in basket._] A beautiful fresh egg, Mrs. Williams, mum. I must be steppin' homewards.

HUGH. [_Struggling to speak just as_ NELI _reaches his nose, wringing it vigorously at she wipes it_.] Aye, but Neli, I was just tellin' ye when I fell that I could not find the deacon's relish--uch, achoo! achoo!

DEACON ROBERTS. [_With finality, tossing the egg in air, catching it and putting it back in basket._] Well, indeed, mum, I must be steppin'

homewards now.

[NELI'S _glance rests on fire burning on other side of room_. _She puts down wet cloth. She turns squarely on the_ DEACON.

NELI. What is your haste, Mr. Roberts? Please to go to the fire an'

wait! I can find the relish.

DEACON ROBERTS. [_Hastily._] Nay, nay, mum. I have no need any more--[_Coughs._] Excellent herrin' brine.

[_Goes toward door._

NELI. [_To_ HUGH.] Take him to the fire, Hugh. 'Tis a cold day whatever!

[_Insinuatingly to_ DEACON.] Have ye a reason for wantin' to go, Mr.

Roberts?

DEACON ROBERTS. [_Going._] Nay, nay, mum, none at all! But, I must not trouble ye. 'Tis too much to ask, an' I have no time to spare an'----

NELI. [_Interrupting and not without acerbity._] Indeed, Mr. Roberts, sellin' what we _can_ is our profit. [_To_ HUGH, _who obediently takes_ DEACON _by arm and pulls him toward fire_.] Take him to the fire, lad.

[_To_ DEACON.] What kind of a relish was it, did ye say, Mr. Roberts?

DEACON ROBERTS. [_Having a tug of war with_ HUGH.] 'Tis an Indian relish, mum, but I cannot wait.

HUGH. [_Pulling harder._] American, ye said.

DEACON ROBERTS. [_Hastily._] Yiss, yiss, American Indian relish, that is.

NELI. Tut, 'tis our specialty, these American Indian relishes! We have several. Sit down by the fire while I look them up. [_Wickedly._] As ye said. Mr. Roberts, 'tis cold here this morning.

DEACON ROBERTS. There, Hughie lad, I must not trouble ye. [_Looks at clock._] 'Tis ten minutes before twelve, an' my dinner will be ready at twelve. [_Pulls harder._

NELI. [_To_ HUGH.] Keep him by the fire, lad.

DEACON ROBERTS. There, Hughie lad, let me go!

[_But_ HUGH _holds on, and the_ DEACON'S _coat begins to come off_.

NELI. [_Sarcastically._] The relish--American Indian, ye said, I think--will make your dinner taste fine and grand!

DEACON ROBERTS. [_Finding that without leaving his coat behind he is unable to go, he glowers at_ HUGH _and speaks sweetly to_ NELI.] 'Tis a beautiful clock, Mrs. Williams, mum. But I haven't five minutes to spare.

NELI. [_Keeping a sharp lookout on the rim of the_ DEACON'S _hat_.]

Well, indeed, I can find the relish in just one minute. An' ye'll have abundance of time left.

DEACON ROBERTS. [_Trapped, and gazing at clock with fine air of indifference._] 'Tis a clever, shinin' lookin' clock whatever, Mrs.

Williams, mum.

NELI. Have ye any recollection of the name of the maker of the relish, Mr. Roberts?

DEACON ROBERTS. [_Putting his hands behind him anxiously and parting his freighted coat-tails with care; then, revolving, presenting his back and one large, well-set, bright-colored patch to the fire._] Nay, I have forgotten it, Mrs. Williams, mum.

NELI. Too bad, but I'm sure to find it. [_She mounts upon chair. At this moment the shop door-bell rings violently, and there enters_ MRS. JONES THE WASH, _very fat and very jolly. She is dressed in short skirt, very full, clogs on her feet, a bodice made of striped Welsh flannel, a shabby kerchief, a cap on her head, and over this a shawl._ NELI _turns her head a little_.] Aye, Mrs. Jones the Wash, in a minute, if you please. Sit down until I find Deacon Roberts's relish whatever.

MRS. JONES THE WASH. [_Sits down on chair by door back centre and folds her hands over her stomach._] Yiss, yiss, mum, thank you. I've come for soap. I came once before, but no one was in.

NELI. Too bad!

MRS. JONES THE WASH. An' I looked in at the window an' saw nothin' but a skippin' shadow looked like a rat. Have ye any rats, Mrs. Williams, mum, do ye think?

NELI. Have I any rats? Well, indeed, 'tis that I'm wantin' to know, Mrs.

Jones the Wash!

MRS. JONES THE WASH. Well, I came back, for the water is eatin' the soap to-day as if 'twere sweets--aye, 'tis a very meltin' day for soap!

[_Laughs._