Plays. Susan Glaspell

tell her story first to the coroner, or the sheriff, so Harry went fast as he could to Rivers' place, where there's a telephone.

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: And what did Mrs. Wright do when she knew that you had gone for the coroner?

      HALE: She moved from that chair to this one over here (pointing to a small chair in the corner) and just sat there with her hands held together and looking down. I got a feeling that I ought to make some conversation, so I said I had come in to see if John wanted to put in a telephone, and at that she started to laugh, and then she stopped and looked at me—scared, (the COUNTY ATTORNEY, who has had his notebook out, makes a note) I dunno, maybe it wasn't scared. I wouldn't like to say it was. Soon Harry got back, and then Dr. Lloyd came, and you, Mr. Peters, and so I guess that's all I know that you don't.

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: (looking around) I guess we'll go upstairs first—and then out to the barn and around there, (to the SHERIFF) You're convinced that there was nothing important here—nothing that would point to any motive.

      SHERIFF: Nothing here but kitchen things.

      (The COUNTY ATTORNEY, after again looking around the kitchen, opens the door of a cupboard closet. He gets up on a chair and looks on a shelf. Pulls his hand away, sticky.)

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: Here's a nice mess.

      (The women draw nearer.)

      MRS PETERS: (to the other woman) Oh, her fruit; it did freeze, (to the LAWYER) She worried about that when it turned so cold. She said the fire'd go out and her jars would break.

      SHERIFF: Well, can you beat the women! Held for murder and worryin' about her preserves.

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: I guess before we're through she may have something more serious than preserves to worry about.

      HALE: Well, women are used to worrying over trifles.

      (The two women move a little closer together.)

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: (with the gallantry of a young politician) And yet, for all their worries, what would we do without the ladies? (the women do not unbend. He goes to the sink, takes a dipperful of water from the pail and pouring it into a basin, washes his hands. Starts to wipe them on the roller-towel, turns it for a cleaner place) Dirty towels! (kicks his foot against the pans under the sink) Not much of a housekeeper, would you say, ladies?

      MRS HALE: (stiffly) There's a great deal of work to be done on a farm.

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: To be sure. And yet (with a little bow to her) I know there are some Dickson county farmhouses which do not have such roller towels. (He gives it a pull to expose its length again.)

      MRS HALE: Those towels get dirty awful quick. Men's hands aren't always as clean as they might be.

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: Ah, loyal to your sex, I see. But you and Mrs. Wright were neighbors. I suppose you were friends, too.

      MRS HALE: (shaking her head) I've not seen much of her of late years. I've not been in this house—it's more than a year.

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: And why was that? You didn't like her?

      MRS HALE: I liked her all well enough. Farmers' wives have their hands full, Mr. Henderson. And then—

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: Yes—?

      MRS HALE: (looking about) It never seemed a very cheerful place.

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: No—it's not cheerful. I shouldn't say she had the homemaking instinct.

      MRS HALE: Well, I don't know as Wright had, either.

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: You mean that they didn't get on very well?

      MRS HALE: No, I don't mean anything. But I don't think a place'd be any cheerfuller for John Wright's being in it.

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: I'd like to talk more of that a little later. I want to get the lay of things upstairs now. (He goes to the left, where three steps lead to a stair door.)

      SHERIFF: I suppose anything Mrs. Peters does'll be all right. She was to take in some clothes for her, you know, and a few little things. We left in such a hurry yesterday.

      COUNTY ATTORNEY: Yes, but I would like to see what you take, Mrs. Peters, and keep an eye out for anything that might be of use to us.

      MRS PETERS: Yes, Mr. Henderson.

      (The women listen to the men's steps on the stairs, then look about the kitchen.)

      MRS HALE: I'd hate to have men coming into my kitchen, snooping around and criticising.

      (She arranges the pans under sink which the LAWYER had shoved out of place.)

      MRS PETERS: Of course it's no more than their duty.

      MRS HALE: Duty's all right, but I guess that deputy sheriff that came out to make the fire might have got a little of this on. (gives the roller towel a pull) Wish I'd thought of that sooner. Seems mean to talk about her for not having things slicked up when she had to come away in such a hurry.

      MRS PETERS: (who has gone to a small table in the left rear corner of the room, and lifted one end of a towel that covers a pan) She had bread set. (Stands still.)

      MRS HALE: (eyes fixed on a loaf of bread beside the bread-box, which is on a low shelf at the other side of the room. Moves slowly toward it) She was going to put this in there, (picks up loaf, then abruptly drops it. In a manner of returning to familiar things) It's a shame about her fruit. I wonder if it's all gone. (gets up on the chair and looks) I think there's some here that's all right, Mrs. Peters. Yes—here; (holding it toward the window) this is cherries, too. (looking again) I declare I believe that's the only one. (gets down, bottle in her hand. Goes to the sink and wipes it off on the outside) She'll feel awful bad after all her hard work in the hot weather. I remember the afternoon I put up my cherries last summer.

      (She puts the bottle on the big kitchen table, center of the room. With a sigh, is about to sit down in the rocking-chair. Before she is seated realizes what chair it is; with a slow look at it, steps back. The chair which she has touched rocks back and forth.)

      MRS PETERS: Well, I must get those things from the front room closet, (she goes to the door at the right, but after looking into the other room, steps back) You coming with me, Mrs. Hale? You could help me carry them.

      (They go in the other room; reappear, MRS PETERS carrying a dress and skirt, MRS HALE following with a pair of shoes.)

      MRS PETERS: My, it's cold in there.

      (She puts the clothes on the big table, and hurries to the stove.)

      MRS HALE: (examining the skirt) Wright was close. I think maybe that's why she kept so much to herself. She didn't even belong to the Ladies Aid. I suppose she felt she couldn't do her part, and then you don't enjoy things when you feel shabby. She used to wear pretty clothes and be lively, when she was Minnie Foster, one of the town girls singing in the choir. But that—oh, that was thirty years ago. This all you was to take in?

      MRS PETERS: She said she wanted an apron. Funny thing to want, for there isn't much to get you dirty in jail, goodness knows. But I suppose just to make her feel more natural. She said they was in the top drawer in this cupboard. Yes, here. And then her little shawl that always hung behind the door. (opens stair door and looks) Yes, here it is.

      (Quickly shuts door leading upstairs.)

      MRS HALE: (abruptly moving toward her) Mrs. Peters?

      MRS PETERS: Yes, Mrs. Hale?

      MRS HALE: Do you think she did it?

      MRS PETERS: (in a frightened voice) Oh, I don't know.

      MRS HALE: Well, I don't think she did. Asking for an apron and her little shawl.