Life — May 13, 1886 — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

NEW YORK IN 1950. A PROPHECY. x SCENE Ae Intelligence Office. Behind @ tall desh sits Mr. Smith, the pro- ” prietor. A door on the right discloses a number of handsomely dressed ladies seated on wooden benches. A door on the left opens. Enter Bridget Motony and Mary McGuire. Mr. Smtru (rising and bowing profoundly) : Ab! good morning, Miss Molony, good morn- ing, Miss McGuire. Can I do anything for you this morning, ladies ? Miss M.: Yis, Mr. Smith, yez can find us good situations. Miss McGuire wants to bea waitress an’ I'm lookin’ out fer a cook’s place. Mr. S.: Why, Miss Molony, you astonish me! I thought I had found you a first-class situation only last week. What was the mat- ter? Miss M.: First-class, was it? Faith, thin, it did n't suit me, There was too much com- pany intirely, an’the missus was too fond of interfarin’ in the kitchen, an’ if there's one thing I won't stand it's interfarince. Miss McG.: That's thrue for ye, Miss Molony; I niver puts up with anny inter- farince mesilf—I just puts my foot down whin I gues into a place, an’ that’s the end of it. ~ Mr. S,: Well, now, ladies, I believe I can suit you both. (Turning over the leaves of his ledger.) Here's an excellent place for a waitress—Mrs. Livingston Knickerbocker, No. 1,000 Fifth avenue, wants a waitress, wages no object, only two in family— Miss MCG. (interrupting) : How many ser- vants does they kape ? Mr. S.: Oh, I was just coming to that. Let me see (referring to his books) ; yes, here it is—four servants, including the coachman. Miss McG.: That won't do, The work is too hard fer a dillicate gurrul like meself— only four! Mr. S.; But just listen a minute, Miss Mc- -LIFE- Guire ; Mr. and Mrs. Knickerbocker are old people—they live very quietly, go to bed early, and have hardly any visitors. It's a very easy place. Miss M.: Yis, indade, it's a foine place, fer I'm well acquainted with the lady who does their cookin’. Miss McG. (doubtfully) : If it's such a good place, why didn’t the waitress stay ? Mr. S. (eagerly) : Oh, I'can satisfy you on that point, Miss McGuire. She left because she was going to be married, not from any fault she found with Mrs, Knickerbocker. In fact, she gives Mrs, K. an excellent character. Miss McG.: Well, thin, bring her out, an’ I'll see if I like the looks uv her. Mr. S.: Unfortunately, I can’t dothat, Miss McGuire ; Mrs. Knickerbocker is somewhat of an invalid just at present, and wished me to send any applicant to her house. ‘Miss M, (hastily): Don't ye go, Mary, dar- lint—do n't ye go! That's what Terry calls ‘givin’ in to the whims of yer employers.” Mr. S.: But, ladies — Miss McG, (with decision): Miss Molony's right. Yez can find me another place, Mr. Smith, Mr. S.: Well, then, what do you say to a summer at Newport? Mrs. Gramercy Beek- man wants a cook and waitress at once. She has a charming house, ladies, and excellent references from her last servants. I should think the place might suit you both, Miss M.; I say there'll be too much com- pany. I’d be worn out intirely. Mr. S.: Luckily, Mrs. Beekman is in deep mourning, so that objection is disposed of. Besides—— Miss McG,: No! / won't go! New York's good enough for me. Miss M.: An’ for me, Mr. S.: Then there 's another capital place. Mrs. Stuyvesant will surely suit you ; she keeps ten servants, never comes into the kitchen, and will pay the very highest wages. What more can you ask ? 277 Miss M,: Is she here? MR. S.: She is. Miss McG.: Well, call her in. MR. S. (going to door on right and opening it): Mrs. Stuyvesant, will you step this way, please; I have a call for you. (Enter Mrs. Stuyvesant, As Miss Molony and Miss McGuire have occupied the only two chairs, she remains standing.) Miss M. (in a loud whisper): She looks like an aisy-tempered woman. Miss McG. (aside): Looks is often desateful. (To Mrs.S.) What wages do yez give ? Mrs, S.: Twenty dollars to my waitress, twenty-five to my cook. Miss M,. (tossing her head): That's too chape fer me. I niver goes less than thirty dollars. Miss McG : Och | an’ it 'sa granehorn ye 're looking for, I should say! No respictable gurrul would take twinty dollars! Mr. S.: Now, Mrs. Stuyvesant, let me ad- vise you. Miss McGuire is a highly accom- plished lady, and would be an ornament to any kitchen. Better secure her at her own price. As for Miss Molony— (He is interrupted by the entrance of Ann McCafferty, who rushes in breathlessly, ex- claiming): I'm justin toime! Come away, Miss Molony! There’s a strike ordered to- day, and ye ‘re wanted for Vice-president ! Come on, Miss McGuire! Mr. Suir: But, my dear ladies, what—— excuse me——. What folly this is! Why should you strike? Do n't you get every thing you ask for ? Miss McCarrerty : Divila bit! There 's me own cousin, Biddy Gowan, has just been discharged for wearin’ the missus's best bonnet to a wake, an’ we'll have our revinge an’ see her reinstated, or we 'Il burn down the house! So come along, gurruls—an’ hurrah ! Miss M.: Hurrah! Exeunt in confusion, Scene closes, &. T. Corbett. WITH OUR APOL- OGIES. HY is a young man closeted with his wife's mother like an angry bear ata circus? Because there is trouble, Bruin. T a recent French duel the injured party was shot through the hat. He declared his wounded honor satisfied with the apology. ““TALN'T FEEDIN’ TIME YET,” omchanawres “a'r itl” comicbooks.com