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<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59159 ***</div>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/cover.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="titlepage">
<h1><i>JOSIAH’S SECRET</i></h1>
<p><span class="large">A PLAY</span></p>
<p><span class="large"><i>By Josiah Allen’s Wife</i></span></p>
<div class="figcenter"><img src="images/titlelogo.jpg" alt="" /></div>
<p><i>Copyright</i><br />
By MARIETTA HOLLEY<br />
<i>1910</i></p>
<p><small>HUNGERFORD-HOLBROOK CO. WATERTOWN, N. Y.</small></p></div>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter">
<p class="ph1">JOSIAH’S SECRET—A Play in Three Acts<br />
<small><i>By JOSIAH ALLEN’S WIFE</i></small></p>
<p class="center">Characters:—Josiah Allen——Samantha Allen.</p>
<hr class="tb" />
<h2 class="nobreak">ACT I.</h2></div>
<p>(Samantha’s kitchen, Samantha standing by a big churn looking very
tired. Josiah sitting by the table reading a newspaper with great interest).</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> I’ve been churnin’ on this cream for two full hours,
ever since I finished white-washin’ the back kitchen, and ironin’ and
moppin’ and bakin’; I’m all beat out and I wish you’d help me a little.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Not lookin’ up from his paper). I would love to Samantha,
nothin’ pleases me more than to churn two or three pails full
of cream. Men had always ruther do that than to eat.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> Take holt then and let me rest a minute. I did a big
day’s work before I begun to churn, and I’m tired out.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Still reading). I would in a minute, Samantha, but if I
take this tub of butter to Jonesville I’ve got to grease the democrat,
it don’t run good. (Lookin’ up from his paper). I want you to hear
this Samantha. Here is eloquence and good horse sense, I feel that I
love the man that wrote it—love him like a brother. You know I always
contended that wimmen wuz too weak and helpless to vote, even if
they knew enough, which they don’t.</p>
<p>(Samantha stretches up her weary form and leans on the churn dasher
and says). Yes, I know you always argyed that way, but what is
the piece, Josiah?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> Oh, he is answerin’ a Woman’s Sufferage argument. He
sez the idee of a great strong man allowin’ a weak and delicate woman
to vote or endure any other hardship is perfectly obnoxious and repugnant
to any man that has the sperit of a man. The very idee of
lettin’ them angels strain themselves liftin’ at the political pole is more
than a tender-hearted man can endure. And he goes on to say, If I
were a woman I would do nothin’ important, I would emulate the rose
and its wisdom, I would allure and charm and be silent. Man wuz made
to protect woman, to work for her, and vote for her. Woman wuz
made to smile on man and charm him in his hours of ease. Do you
hear that, Samantha? That masterly, convincin’ logick?</p>
<p>(Samantha has resumed her churning again and says). Yes, I
hear it, Josiah. But I want a pail of cold water; you know I have to
draw it up by hand since the pump broke, and git a ten quart pail of
water on the end of the pole, I don’t believe the political pole would
draw much harder.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> Yes it would, Samantha; I guess you’d find it drawed
harder, wimmen little know the awful tuckerin’ work it is to vote.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> Well, I’d like a pail of water, Josiah, and I wish you’d
come and help me churn a little; seems as if my back will break off.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> I told you, Samantha, I’d got to grease that democrat!
But what do you think of this beautiful article?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> The man goes too fur, Josiah, he hain’t megum
enough, wimmen hain’t angels.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> They be angels; I always said so.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> And I always said they wuzn’t. And I always said
that wimmen did harder work than to vote and men never seemed to
worry about that.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Solemnly). No they don’t do any harder work, Samantha,
votin’ wears on us strong minded men turribly, and what would it
do to a weak, fraguile woman? Oh that man puts men and wimmen in
their different spears so beautiful and so plain that it seems as if a
infant babe, or even a woman, could understand it. (Josiah steps nearer
to Samantha and points to the piece in the paper). If you’d foller
this man’s idees, Samantha, I’d be the happiest man in Jonesville or
the world. (He sits down, leans back with his fingers in the arm-holes
of his vest in a very important attitude).</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> (Reasonably). I’d be willin’ to charm you, Josiah
but I don’t see how I could allure and charm and do my house work at
the same time. And even if I wuz to do the Rose Act when I have a big
churnin’ to do I don’t see how it would affect you, for you always have
to grease the democrat or the sarah, or ile harnesses churnin’ days.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (In a cross tone). What of it? What if I do?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> Oh don’t git agitated, Josiah, this butter has got to
be churned and worked over, and the rest of my mornin’s work done,
and I wish you’d pull up a pole of water, and help finish the churnin’
and bring up that tub from the suller and help pack it. It is hard
work for a woman’s back and arms when they’re most broke already.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Rising and speaking very cross). If I go to Jonesville that
democrat has got to be greased. How can you expect a democrat to run
without ilein’? And sometimes they won’t run then. (He glances at Bryan’s
picture, hanging on the wall, grabs up his basin of wagon grease,
and starts off almost on the run and slams the door behind him.)</p>
<p>(Samantha stands a minute looking after him as if in deep thought,
and then she drops the butter dasher down with a bang, and sets the
churn back and says, speaking to herself). If I’m a angel I’ll stop
churnin’ long enough to breathe, and if I’m too weak and delicate to drop
a slip of paper in a box once a year I’ll set down before I drop down.</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter">
<h2 class="nobreak">ACT II.</h2></div>
<p>(Samantha’s parlor, books, easy chairs, pictures, a high backed
rocker covered with cretonne, placed so its occupant can see through
the open door into the kitchen. Samantha is dressed in dark gingham
with white collar and cuffs and white bib apron, she is arranging some
books on the table and talking to herself.)</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> Josiah wants the Rose Act and he shall have it, I don’t
know exactly how to perform it without rules. I know roses blow out,
but it can’t be men want that, they’re deadly opposed to their pardners
talkin’ on duty, which they call “blowin’ round.” (She steps forward in
front of rocker and looks thoughtful). I guess it means to keep still and
look pretty. (Looks up satisfied). I will try faithful to do it right, I’m
always very thorough in anything I undertake. I believe that to allure and
charm I must be in a settin’ poster. (Sits down in rocker). I believe I ort
to clasp my hands in a easy, graceful attitude. (Clasps her hands across
her waist). And to look winsome I must smile some. (Smiles a good deal).</p>
<p>(Josiah enters kitchen with his basin of wagon grease in his hand.
He glances at the churn and says). Gracious heavens! hain’t that butter
finished? Nor the tea-kettle on at half-past leven! (Glances into
the parlor). What is the matter? (Steps inside of door). What is
the matter, Samantha?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> (Smiles sweetly. Josiah yells). Why in the name of
the gracious Peter hain’t dinner under way?</p>
<p>(Samantha smiles).</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Steps close to her). What are you tryin’ to do anyway,
Samantha?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> (Calmly and firmly). I’m bein’ winsome, Josiah, and
tryin’ to allure and charm.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> You’re bein’ a gol-darned fool, that’s what you’re a-bein’!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> (Smiling, murmurs gently). Sweet pet!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Stamps his feet in anger and yells). Sweet pet! Dum
foolishness! I shall lose the chance to sell that butter! And I’m starved!!!
(Flings himself around). Twenty-four hours since I eat a mouful!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> (Sweetly). Men are made to work for wimmen, dearest
one. Them angels hain’t made for work, or votin’, or any other hardship.
(Sweetly and smilingly). The cream is all ready for you to
finish churnin’. The chicken to brile is in the store-room, the potatoes
and vegetables in the suller. (Stops talking to give him three or four full
smiles). The mop is hangin’ up behind the back door, the stove brush
and blackin’ in the suller-way, and the lamp-chimney cleaner is hangin’
over the kitchen sink.</p>
<p>(Josiah had stood as if dumb foundered, now he yelled as he
straightened up.) Dum it all! What are <i>you</i> goin’ to do?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> I’m goin’ to charm and allure you, dear Josiah; wimmen
are made to charm men, they should do nothin’ important.</p>
<p>(Josiah drops into a chair, his arms hanging down at his side in
a despairing way and stares at her.)</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> A clean house is important, therefore I will not clean.
Eatin’ is important therefore I will not cook, I will emulate the rose in
its wisdom, I will charm and be silent. (She leans back in a luxurious
attitude and smiles a good deal at him).</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Rising). Are you a consarned lunatick? Or what duz
ail you? (Puts on his glasses and looks closely at her. His angry
looks changes to one of deep anxiety and alarm. With his eye on her
all the time he edges off and reaches for the camphor bottle on a mantle
in the kitchen, takes it in one hand and then reaches for the soap stone
on the kitchen stove and carries it back in a scared fashion. He asks
low and appealingly). Don’t you want your back rubbed, Samantha?
Where is your worst pain? (He lays down the soap stun within easy
reach on the table and steps cautiously near). Won’t camfire relieve
you? Shall I go after Miss Gowdey or the doctor? (Steps to one side
and looks round as if uncertain what to do). Don’t you want your feet
soaked? (Glancin’ towards the kitchen).</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> (Straightens up). Josiah Allen, I don’t want soap
stuns or camfire, I want reason and common sense in a pardner, that’s
what I want to relieve me. I have tried faithful to foller the rules you
read this mornin’. You said you loved the man that wrote ’em and
if I would only foller ’em you would be the happiest man in Jonesville
or the world. I have follered ’em for about twenty minutes and it has
reduced you to the condition of a lunatick. If twenty minutes has brung
you to this state, what would hours and days of it do and years? Now
it has made you lose your morals, tear round, use wicked language,
break your word to your grocer, and <i>act</i>. Now if you have had
enough of allurin’ and charmin’ say so and I’ll stop it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Moved uneasily around while she was speaking and then
said). Oh dum the piece! and dum the feller that wrote it!</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> (Leans back, clasps her hands and smiles, Josiah
stamps on the floor and kicks, Samantha smiles sweetly and murmurs).
Sweet, darling he-angel!</p>
<p>(Josiah runs his fingers through his hair till it stands on end,
stamps, kicks the boot-jack across the floor and loosens a panel in the
clothes press door. His anger seems to have spent itself in this, for he
turns to her and says mournfully). I haven’t had a mouful to eat for
forty-eight hours. (Putting his hand to his head as if in despair for
a minute or two, then lifting his head he says). Dear Samantha, I’ve
had enough of the Rose Act, and I’m willin’ to have you vote, I want
you to, I’ll carry you to the pole myself and swear you in if I go to jail
the next minute.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> (Getting up and going towards the kitchen). Be megum,
Josiah, don’t go too fast.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> I tell you Samantha, I’ve had enough allurin’ and charmin’
to last me through a long life, now I want some meat vittles, and I
want ’em quick!</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="chapter">
<h2 class="nobreak">ACT III.</h2></div>
<p>(A pleasant sitting room, lamps lighted for evening. Samantha
dressed in brown alpaca, with a book in her hand sits in an easy chair
and says to herself).</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> Josiah sot off in good season after all for Jonesville,
and at his request I went with him, and on the way we visited very
agreeable. He wuz extremely affectionate, caused partly by his feelings,
for he worships me, and partly by his dinner, for it wuz as good
a dinner as hands ever got. I briled the young tender fowl I had already
dressed, smashed up the potatoes with plenty of cream and butter
in ’em, made an orange puddin’ so delicious it would fairly melt in
your mouth, and some fragrant coffee so rich and yaller with cream it
would do anyone’s soul good to drink it, and while I wuz gittin’ dinner,
such is my faculty for turnin’ off work, I finished that butter, and
immegiately after dinner packed it, put a snow-white cloth over it, and
we sot off in good season after all for Jonesville.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Enters room, hangs up coat and hat and takes a comfortable
chair, leans back looking very good natured, and says as he
looks at Samantha and hitches his chair nearer to her). That sweet
flowery talk I read this mornin’ is a comfort to men to write, and makes
’em feel good natured and patronizin’ towards wimmen. But come to
crumple right down to real life that Rose Act wouldn’t work worth a
cent, and if it did, men would git sick of it, sick as a dog. (He draws
his chair still nearer to Samantha).</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> And I felt like a fool sittin’ there tryin’ to allure and
charm, smilin’ stiddy when I knew everything wuz at loose ends in the
kitchen. I wuz as happy agin when I wuz getting your dinner.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Heartily and loudly). So wuz I, Samantha, heaven
knows, I wuz as happy as a king when you wuz gittin’ it, and happier
than any king ever wuz when I wuz eatin’ it.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> I don’t know when I am happier than when I am makin’
my home comfortable and agreeable, gittin’ a good warm supper for
you when I know you are comin’ home tired and cold and hungry at
night-fall. Goin’ round reasonable and calm in a clean kitchen, brilin’
a plump fowl or cookin’ oysters and cream biscuits, and coffee or
sunthin’ else you like, settin’ the snowy table and keepin a bright fire
blazin’ on a clean hearth, waitin’ for the man I love. (Enthusiastically
as she steps to the table for her knitting). I am as happy again and
any woman would be as happy again as she would be tryin’ to do that
Rose Act.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Earnestly). Yes, that is so, Samantha.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> I tell you, Josiah, that wimmen that don’t keep a
hired girl and have to bring up five or six children by hand, besides
doin’ all the housework, washin’ and ironin’, sewin’, skimmin’ milk and
makin’ butter and cleanin’ house and settin’ hens and feedin’ chickens
and makin’ rag carpets and quiltin’ bed-quilts and knittin’ stockin’s
and pickin’ geese and dryin’ apples and makin’ soap and paperin’ walls
and paintin’ doorsteps and tendin’ flower gardens and weedin’ onions
and etcetery, they have to do some important work, they cannot set
still and allure and charm, not for any length of time.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> That’s so, Samantha, it hadn’t ort to be expected of a
poor woman.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> (With knitting in her lap and spec’s pushed up). No,
Josiah, nor from rich wimmen either that have to wait on three or four
hired girls, and have big houses in country and city, and tend big
parties and give ’em, and go out drivin’ every day and to the opera, and
theatres, and to Eourope every now and then and to the sea-shore and
mountains, and south and east and west, and ride out in yots and ortos
and air-ships, and set on boards, charity and missionary and hospital
boards, every one on ’em hard ones, and give balls and entertainments
for the same. And get their children headed right in morals and education
and society. And stand up hour after hour to be fitted for
mornin’ gowns and evenin’ gowns and tea-gowns and dinner gowns and
fussin’ with cameras and pianolas and lectures on every subject under
heaven. And their work amongst the poor, and makin’ more than a
thousand calls and receivin’ the same. Good land! what time do they
have for the Rose Act?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> They don’t have any time for it, I always said so.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> And won’t you own up, Josiah, that rich wimmen and
poor wimmen do harder work than to drop a little slip of paper onto
the pole once or twice a year?</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Looking very good natured). Yes, Samantha, we men
know that hain’t no harder on ’em than mailin’ a letter. If I dast, I’d
tell you the real reason why we male statesmen oppose wimmins’ votin’,
but I dassen’t tell, it is a state secret, jealously guarded by us male
law-makers.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> I wish you would tell me, Josiah. Men’s talk on this
subject is so strange and queer I’d love to know the real truth.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Firmly). And I’d love to tell you, Samantha, but I dassen’t.
We male men have guarded that political secret as we have the
very apples in our eyes. (Shaking his head solemnly). No, as much
store I set by you, Samantha, I don’t dast to tell you.</p>
<p>(Samantha sits thinking deeply with her fingers on her forehead,
then her face brightens up and she says gently). I thought, Josiah,
that mebby you’d like to have me put on the tea-kittle and git a little
lunch, we eat supper ruther early.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> (Heartily). Yes, I <i>would</i> like it, one of your good lunches
would go to the spot, I guess I <i>will</i> tell you after all. But remember
it is in strict confidence. We male men oppose wimmens’ votin’ because
we want to keep the power in our own hands, and kinder boss
round, and we talk about the hardships of wimmens’ votin’ and call ’em
angels and so on jest as the doctor gives morphine to his patients to
quiet ’em, and keep ’em still. But don’t you tell for your life, Samantha
Allen. If it wuz known in high political circles that I’d let the cat
out of the bag, I’d no but I’d be imprisoned or exiled as a traitor and
political informer.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Samantha.</span> No, I won’t git you into any trouble, Josiah. I’d mistrusted
that wuz it for some time, but didn’t know it for certain till now.</p>
<p><span class="smcap">Josiah.</span> Well, don’t you let on to Miss Gowdey or any other woman
if you want <i>me</i> to keep a hull skin. And don’t you think it is time to
hang on the tea-kittle?</p>
<hr class="chap" />
<div class="transnote">
<p class="ph2">TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE:</p>
<p>Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.</p>
</div>
<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 59159 ***</div>
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