HE SLAPPED HER FACE.

Auckland Star, Volume V, Issue 1480, 7 November 1874, Page 6 (Supplement)

HE SLAPPED HER FACE.

BY MILO.

SCOGGS \T HOME, EXPECTtNG HIS WIFE, WHO HAS BEEN DINING AT AFRIEND's. AT 11 MRS SCOGGS RETURNS BURSTING WITH LAUGHTER. Mr Scoggs —Why, how meivy you ai© this evening, my dear Martha ; you must have had a jolly time at Mickelson's. Mrs Scoggs (still laughing)— You could never guess what makes me. laugh so ! Mr S. —Mickelson must have played his old trick, and served you some beer with goldfishes in it ? Mrs S. —No ; you can't guess. I prefer to tell it to you at once—he si ipped his wife's face! Mr. S —impossible! Mrs S. —And such a slap that it made all the windows tremble! Mickelson wished to have the lamp on the right of the table on account of his sore eye. Betsy wanted it on the left, because it showedher diamonds to more advantage. They both pulled it to their side of the table, until at last Betsy, in a fit of rage, sat it down on a platter full of mashed potatoes. It was then that her husband warmed her cheek with a slap. [Lmghing.] I can't help laughing at Betsy's face, but nevertheless I amindignaut at Mickelson ; for the man who slaps a woman is a coward ! Mr S. —Yes, very often. Mrs S. —How so—very often 1 You may say always. The man that slaps a woman is always; a coward ! Mr S. —Unless he has been pushed to it. Mrs. S. —Pushed to it! Do you pretend to defend Mickelson 1 Mr. S. —Oh, no ; I merely say that certain circumstances Mrs. S. —(drily) —Look here! you had better say frankly what you want to say. Mr S. —But, my clear, I have nothing to say. Mrs S. —And yet with your " circumstances," you seem to wish Mr S. —l ! Oh, no. No, indeed ! Mrs S. —What makes you laugh now 1 Mr S. —Was I laughing 1 Why, really that joke of Mickelson's— Mrs S.— What! a "joke !" You call his brutality ajoke ? Perhapsyou would like to do the same 1 I dare say you feel like it. But you dare not do it. It is true, however, that lam not so vexing a creature as Betsy. Mr S.—Oh no ! Mrs S.~ What « Oh,no!" You needn't say it so mockingly. Dare you pretend to my face that I am as vexing as Betsy 1 Mr S. (patiently)—No, my dear—no, indeed ; however ,1 must say, you do like to tease a little Mrs S.—ll ■Mr S.— Well, I retract it. Mrs S. (nervously)— Not at ail,—speak out! It is useless for you to play the silent victim. Oh, I like to tease, do 1 1 I think you would be rather embarrassed to prove what you advance. Mr 8. (softly)— Why, sweet little darling, no later than this morning you almost grew angry because I said that Iloldredge, the artist, is not a blonde.

Mrs S.—l say lie is a blonde ! Mr S—No, veally, my dear, you are mistaken —he is dark.

Mrs S. —I tell you lie a blonde ! Mr S. (giving in)— All right ; lam willing.

Mrs S.—Oh, I don't care for your ironic concessions—it is easy enough to pretend to be resigned when you don't wish to confess that you are wrong. Mr S. (patiently)— Well, then—yes, I am wrong.

Mrs S. —You say that as if you did not mean it. Any one else would have said, " My dear little wife I ask your pardon for having pretended to say that Holdredgeis dark,"

Mr S, (loosing Jus patience) •■— Yqs }

yes, yes ! But, my dear, I beg of you let us go no further. You wish Holdredge to be a blonde 1 Well, then, he is a blonde. He is yellow if you wish it, or blue ! Mrs S. (nervously)— Yellow ! blue ! I say, look here ; whom do you take me for 1 And since you take it in this manner I will say it to your face and repeat for ever, "Yes ! Holdredge is a blonde !" Mr S- (nervously)— Yes, yes ; he is a blonde. He may be aan albino for all I care. Are you satisfied ? j\£ rs S.—lt proves clearly that you never saw him, or else you would acknowledge that he is a blonde. j£ r g # —But by Jove ! I told you a thousand times that I have spoken to him time and again. ]$£ rs s.—You are there loafing about the studios instead of coming home at n ight. Mr S. (patiently)— Look here, Martha, we had better go to bed. Mrs S.—»That does not tell me where you made the acquaintance of that blonde, Mr Holdredge. ]j£ r $. —I told you already that it was at the California Theatre. I stepped on his foot and turned to ask his pardon. ]j£ rs $,—lt seems very extraordinary to me that you should precisely have stepped on Mr. Holdredge's foot. i£ Tm g. —It was a mere chance. Mrs. S. —And was it there you saw he was dark? Mr, S -(closing his fists)—Oh! [He walks the floor without answering.*! ]$£ rs . S—You needn't walk about like a drum-major and show the white of your eyes; you had better answer. jf r . g,—But, in the name of heaven, what do you wish me to answer? j£ r5 . S.—Answer that I was right. Mr. S. I told you so twice already. 2£ r g, S. —Yes j but there is a way of saying things. Mr. S. (calmly)— Look here, Martha, I am not quite well; I ask for mercy— let us rather go to bed. Mrs. S. —This is an easy way of getting out of a scrape when one is wrong. Don't you think that I'm sick, too, since an hour that you overwhelm me with reproaches % Mr. S. (impatiently) —I see that I had better go. [Leaves the room and enters parlor. After a moment Mrs. S. joins him.] Mrs. S. How long is this comedy going to last ? You know I don't like nervous and stubborn people. Is it my fault if lam right 1 Do you think I care whether Holdredge is dark or a blonde 1 Only since he is a blonde, what interest can you have in pretending to prove that he is dark 1 Mr. S. But, my dear, since I confess that I am wrong, leave me alone? [Flies into the dining room.] Mrs. S. (pursuing him)-You might at least answer politely and go out without slamming the doors ? [Mr. S. goes into the kitchen.] Mrs S. (following him)— Besides, I tell you that I hate spiteful people. I would much rather deal with quicktempered men. They, at least, do not pout for days over a trifling matter ; they may be too quick at times, but the moment afterwards it is all forgotten — like your friend Mickleson, for instance. Mr S. (nervously)— Yes, indeed. He did right, I think—at leas' Ido now. Mrs S.—What do you say ? Mr S. (calmly)—O, nothing —nothing But do leave me alone ! [Runs into the hall.] Mrs S. (running after him) —Oh ! you think he did well in slapping his wife, do you ? Perhaps you would like to do the same ? Perhaps you thiuk that I would stand it like Bstsy'? But just try it! you wouldn't be alive tomorrow ! Just touch me ! I dare you ! [tie repulses her softly, without answering.] Oh ! you dare not do it! You are not brave enough to strike a woman ! Do you see these nails 1 I would tear your face with them ! Mr S. (still mastering himself) —Look out, Martha, you stuck your fiuger in my eye. Mrs S.—Let my wrist go or I shall cry murder, fire ! Mr S.—Then take care what you are doing. Mrs S. (extremely nervous) —Oh ! you wish to kill me because Holdredge is a blonde ; but just try—l dare you— try ! Mr S, (with rage)—Oh !my God ! [Goes out upon the landing.] Mrs S. (following him) —Oh ' you are one of those wlio beat women ! Just try it with me ! [He goes to the second story.].,,. Mrs S. (going after him) —Dare to touch me—why don't you 1 Yes, yes, yes, Holdredge is a blonde ! There, now ! [He mounts to the third stoiy.] Mrs S.—He is a blonde —he is a blonde—dare to touch me—he is a blonde ! [On fourth landing.] Mrs S. (extremely nervous) —He is a blonde—he is a blonde—why don'c you strike me, you big coward 1 [Mr S. tries to mount further but finds himself in the garret.] Mrs S.—l knew you would not dare to touch me! Now we are in the garret—we have no witnesses —try to strike me ! Mr S. (going mad) —Come now, Martha ! you make me crazy ! I beseech you, leave me alone. Mrs S.—He is a blonde ! Mr S.—Will you leave me alone ? Once! twice ! Mi's S* —He is a blonde—a blonde— a blonde ! Mr S.—Three times! Mrs S^Tluree times b4on.de i

Mr S. (exasperated)—TaEßEiro^ her a slap.J ' lvs« [MrS.is ashamed of his brutai'v but the commotion brought Mrs So nervous state to a crisis; she bursto^' tears.] , 3ty MrS. (ashamed;— Martha !. lUp thousand pardons for — " «a. Mrs S (sobbing)-No my darW it is I who implore your forgiv euess . /' having teased you ; I was wroag •« I remember, I mistook Holdredo* t Burnett of the California Theatr^i