Dramau Cymru

The Bakehouse (1920)

John Oswald Francis


	SCENE.─A Bakehouse; on the right (From stage to audience.)* in the middle of wall, the oven.* Left back, in corner, a door. Middle of back, a window. Right front corner, upturned wooden box. Table at back, a foot or two away from wall─while being scrubbed. Left of this table a chair. Table against left wall; chair at end of this table near front of stage. In back right hand corner stand a sweeping brush and a short-handled bake-house shovel. Near by, on nails, hang two pieces of white cloth. On table at back are a lighted candle and four or five empty bread tins. On table to left are three or four loaves of bread. On wall, near oven, hangs a cheap clock. Stage in half-darkness with faint red glow about oven. Bakehouse is lit either by oil lamp on wall, or by electric lamp. Mrs. BETSI EVANS, with a bucket of hot water and a scrubbing brush, is busily washing table at back. There is a knock at a door off left. BETSI goes quietly to bakehouse door and listens. Door without opens.
Mrs Morgan	(Without.) Is Mrs. Evans in please?
Mrs Evans	(With a gesture of irritation.) Well, tan i marw!
Voice	(Without.) No, indeed. In the bakehouse she is, Mrs. Morgan.
Mrs Morgan	Oh! Thank you.
	Knock at bake-house door.
Mrs Evans	Dewch mewn!
	Enter MRS. MORGAN with a tea-tray and teacloth.
Mrs Morgan	Oh, Mrs. Evans─
Mrs Evans	It's you, Mrs. Morgan, is it? Shw'da'chi heno? Hanner mined! I'll just turn up the light.
	She crosses, turns up the light, blows out candle. Full light on stage. MRS. MORGAN comes in and stands close to table at back. She is a pretty young woman of twenty-one, neatly and daintily dressed. Betsi is seen to be a work-worn woman of about fifty-five.
Mrs Morgan	(With great anxiety.) Is it─is it ready yet, Mrs. Evans?
Mrs Evans	Ready? Diwedd annwyl, no! It will take nearly another hour yet.
Mrs Morgan	Another hour? I was thinking, Mrs. Evans, p'raps─
Mrs Evans	(Looking at clock.) Well, three-quarters since you're asking. Quarter past nine it is now. But sit down you.
	MRS. MORGAN takes chair front left corner.
Mrs Morgan	(Nervously.) Mrs. Evans─ P'raps you─would you mind just having a look to see how it's getting on?
Mrs Evans	(Surprised.) Dir caton pobin, Mrs. Morgans fach! If I was so much as to open the oven door just now, the bread would get that flat you'd think it was only pancakes.
Mrs Morgan	(Taken aback.) Oh! I didn't know.
Mrs Evans	And you didn't mark your two loaves either, Mrs. Morgan─
Mrs Morgan	Mark them?
Mrs Evans	(Coming forward.) Yes. Put on a bit of a pattern or p'raps stick your initials in with a fork, so as to know them when they come out.
Mrs Morgan	Oh dear, dear! I didn't think. Does it matter?
Mrs Evans	I've put them in the corner by the wall. Mrs. Howells is the only other one that doesn't mark her bread, and, of course, she's got her own tins with her name on them. It's your first bread, I suppose, Mrs. Morgan?
Mrs Morgan	Yes. My husband always had it home-made before we got married; so I─so I thought I'd try.
Mrs Evans	Quite right, too, Mrs. Morgan. It shows a proper spirit. Excuse me going on washing, but the water's nice and hot. (Resumes scrubbing.) Your mother-in-law always made some of the best loaves that ever went out of this bakehouse, Mrs. Morgan─excepting Mrs. Howells of course. If the angels in Heaven started baking to-morrow, they couldn't make a lighter crust than Mary Ann Howells's!
Mrs Morgan	You didn't happen to notice the dough when you put it in? (Timorously.) Did it─did it look as if it ever would be bread, Mrs. Evans?
Mrs Evans	Well, yn y wir now, I was so busy I didn't pay much notice.
Mrs Morgan	My husband is so fond of home-made bread, Mrs. Evans. But of course, being brought up in the millinery─
Mrs Evans	Yes, yes. Of course! But you'll learn, come you, you'll learn. And how do you like living in Tredegar Terrace, Mrs. Morgan? Let me see! You've been married nearly a month now?
Mrs Morgan	A month next Monday, Mrs. Evans.
Mrs Evans	Well, mawredd, how time goes to be sure! And you went away for a week didn't you?
Mrs Morgan	Ten days, Mrs. Evans.
Mrs Evans	To the Mumbles, wasn't it? Mrs. Jones Shop Flannel was telling me.
Mrs Morgan	Yes, to the Mumbles. He's very fond of the seaside is my husband.
Mrs Evans	I went so far as the Mumbles once myself. That was with Yanto, my first husband, Mrs. Morgan. Long ago, Mrs. Morgan fach! (Pauses in the scrubbing to sigh.) Long ago indeed! Zachariah wasn't so much for the water, poor Zachariah! (Sighs dolorously.)
Mrs Morgan	(Sympathetically.) Have you buried him long, Mrs. Evans?
Mrs Evans	(Pathelically.) Which d'you mean, Mrs. Morgan─Zachariah? Oh, yes! Over six years now indeed. He was a godly man, Mrs. Morgan; a proper saint on earth if ever there was one. Leader of the Rechabites for years. Poor Yanto now was more worldly.
Mrs Morgan	You've had an awful lot of trouble, Mrs. Evans, losing both of them like that.
Mrs Evans	A lot of trouble, Mrs. Morgan fach─a lot of trouble. Still there's some consolation for a woman to know she's had two, and the men getting so scarce as they are. (Stopping work for a moment and coming down.) I've just had two big likenesses made of them, Mrs. Morgan, one of Yanto and one of Zachariah; and beautiful to behold they are. Cost me fifteen shillings, Mrs. Morgan, including the frames of course. Pritchard the Photo-shop it was that did them for me; from two old photographs; that's all, mind you! (Resumes scrubbing.) If I was you, Mrs. Morgan, I'd have one done of your Davy──
Mrs Morgan	Plenty of time to think of that, I hope, Mrs. Evans.
Mrs Evans	I hope so, indeed. But you never know. And if he should happen to go before you, it's nice to have his likeness on the wall in the parlour. And very nice parlours you've got in Tredegar Terrace, too, there's no denying.
Mrs Morgan	Oh, yes! We're very comfortable, I'm sure.
Mrs Evans	You're settling down on the Twmp here now, Mrs. Morgan, no doubt? Bit strange at first, I suppose, after being down there in the Paris House in Dyffryn Street?
Mrs Morgan	We're getting on very well, thank you, Mrs. Evans. (After a little hesitation.) But I must say there are some people who might find something better to do than running down their neighbours─
Mrs Evans	(Consolingly.) But after all, Mrs. Morgan, there's very few pay any real attention to Mrs. Richards the Checkweigher─
Mrs Morgan	Oh! I don't want to mention any names, Mrs. Evans.
Mrs Evans	No, no! Of course! Of course! But p'raps it's only natural that she and her daughter Jinnie should look a bit black on you. You know what girls are these days.
Mrs Morgan	(With dignity.) I'm sure I've got no grudge against Miss Richards.
Mrs Evans	Well no! But, you see, you married him. She didn't. And, of course, they always were a bit free with their tongues─especially since that eldest girl married a preacher; though it isn't for me to say anything against them, and them baking two large and two small regular twice a week.
Mrs Morgan	(Getting up, startled.) Are they baking here with you, Mrs. Evans?
Mrs Evans	Oh, yes! They've got their bread in to-night.
Mrs Morgan	To-night? Will they be coming here then, Mrs. Evans?
Mrs Evans	Mrs. Richards, or else Jinnie, or p'raps both. It's Jinnie does the baking there now─
Mrs Morgan	(Trying to be very casual.) Jinnie Richards makes very good bread, of course?
Mrs Evans	Oh! Middling. Pretty fair indeed!
Mrs Morgan	What time do they come, Mrs. Evans?
Mrs Evans	It all depends. Sometimes early, sometimes late.
Mrs Morgan	(Anxiously.) D'you think, Mrs. Evans─as a favour─you could take my two loaves out first?
Mrs Evans	But they're far in─close to the wall. Didn't I tell you?
Mrs Morgan	And ten o'clock is the earliest possible. You couldn't just─
Mrs Evans	Ten o'clock sharp!
Mrs Morgan	(Going towards door.) I'll be back just before ten then.
Mrs Evans	Dyna fe. About ten.
	As MRS. MORGAN goes out, MRS. MARY ANN HOWELLS comes in, to MRS. MORGAN's left. She is a woman of about fifty, poorly dressed and wearing an old apron. Her face preserves the suggestion of by-gone good looks. Her speech is slow and pleasant; with a certain reflectiveness in it. There is a lurking humour in her eyes. She has a copy of the "South Wales Echo" in her hand.}:
Mrs Howells	(Nodding genially to MRS. MORGAN.) Noswath dda, Mrs. Morgan.
Mrs Morgan	Good night, Mrs. Howells. (She goes out and is seen passing the window.)
Mrs Evans	Shw' ma'i heno, Mary Ann?
Mrs Howells	(Crossing to box on right, and taking her seat wearily.) Oh! weddol, Betsi fach, weddol! But it's a hard day of it I've had─what with the extra baking and getting a bed ready for my brother-in-law.
Mrs Evans	So he's coming on a visit after all, then? I didn't quite understand when your Maggie brought five loaves instead of three, as usual.
	Saying this, takes up bucket and crosses towards door. Then pauses to listen to MRS. HOWELLS.
Mrs Howells	Yes. We're going to have John William with us for a couple of weeks. As soon as he heard that our Evan had been broken out of the Chapel for drinking, he wrote and said he was coming to stay a fortnight.
Mrs Evans	Taw sôn, gel! But he was that kind of man before going to America. And to think of him coming back with all that money, and looking just like Buffalo Bill! Well, Mary Ann, I hope he won't come empty-handed, however. There's one thing, he can't take it with him when he dies. (She goes out for a moment, and is heard emptying out the bucket.)
Mrs Howells	Well, I won't say a few pounds wouldn't come in handy with our Evan as he is. But I've roughed it enough in this old world, and I can manage. It's of the little girl I'm thinking. I'd be glad if he put a bit by for her to fall back on after my days.
	MRS. EVANS pushes table at back to wall, puts bucket in right hand corner at back, and, taking broom, begins to sweep the floor, but breaks off repeatedly to enjoy the conversation.
Mrs Evans	So, after all, in a way of speaking, Mary Ann, it was a good thing Richards the Checkweigher brought your Evan before the Chapel?
Mrs Howells	Well, if the little girl was to gain anything by John William coming, there's no thanks due to the Richardses. I'm not denying Evan is fond of his glass. But there was no call for Richards to bring him before the Chapel, especially with Mrs. Richards using my mangle as she used to.
Mrs Evans	But, I suppose, Mary Ann─between me and you─it is true your Evan was brought home on a wheelbarrow?
Mrs Howells	Well, Betsi, it isn't for me to say he was─being his wife; and, being a Christian woman, it isn't for me to say he wasn't. But what I do say is, there was no need for the Richardses to make a fuss about it.
Mrs Evans	There's no denying Mrs. Richards got very high and mighty when her eldest girl married the preacher; and there's no holding her now Richards is made a deacon.
Mrs Howells	By one vote, Betsi. I'd as soon vote for Cohen the Pawnbroker!
Mrs Evans	Of course they bring a lot of bread to the bakehouse.
Mrs Howells	And it's nothing to make a song about either, is the Richards's bread.
Mrs Evans	Middling─just middling. Very thick in the crust on times, Mary Ann; very thick on times.
Mrs Howells	What I've always said is, barm or yeast. Stick to one or the other. I can't abide a woman that's always shilly-shallying with the both.
Mrs Evans	Well, of course, you ought to know if anybody did, Mary Ann.
Mrs Howells	Not that I'm saying a woman oughtn't to use barm if she can't get good yeast. Oh, no!
Mrs Evans	No, no. Of course! Of course!
Mrs Howells	There's me now. I went to the Top Shop for yeast this morning. Such trash, my girl─well, you ought to have seen it! Rise? You'd want a balloon to rise it. So I sent our Maggie up to the brewery for some barm.
Mrs Evans	Quite right, too, Mary Ann. I don't know what's coming over Thomas Lewis Top Shop. Such a tidy man he used to be, too!
Mrs Howells	Aay! I remember him well. Great friend of our Evan, and of your Yanto, too, come to that! (Reflectively.) Der! times have changed on us all.
Mrs Evans	D'you remember me telling you, Mary Ann, about taking the two photographs to Pritchard?
Mrs Howells	(With interest.) Yes, yes! Yanto and Zachariah?
Mrs Evans	Well, I've had the likenesses.
Mrs Howells	(Jumping up.) No!
Mrs Evans	Ie, yn wir. Grand likenesses they are, too!
Mrs Howells	You don't say! Let's have a look, Betsi fach.
Mrs Evans	I'll go and get them.
Mrs Howells	Yes, quick.
	Betsi replaces broom, hurries off, and returns with two large pictures wrapped in brown paper. MRS. HOWELLS shows signs of great interest. MRS. EVANS, having unwrapped the first, stands it on table at back against the wall. The portrait, badly done in crayon, is of a careless, happy-looking man.
Mrs Howells	Well, tan i marw! Yanto─the living image of him, Betsi! Poor Yanto, such a happy laugh he had, you'd think there was no such thing. as trouble in the world!
Mrs Evans	(Unwrapping the second picture.) And here's Zachariah.
	Stands picture of Zachariah on table. It shows a thin-faced, severe-looking man with side-whiskers.
Mrs Howells	Well, diwedd annwyl, Betsi fach! The spit moral of him─just as he used to be, sitting in the sêt fawr in Horeb.
Mrs Evans	They'll be a great comfort to me, Mary Ann, a great comfort. They cost me fifteen shillings the pair; but I couldn't have one without the other. It wouldn't be right to make a difference between them.
Mrs Howells	(Resuming her seat, still looking at the pictures.) It takes us back a long time, Betsi fach! It's a long time since you and Yanto Pugh the Pop began walking out on Bryndu.
Mrs Evans	(Picking up the pictures.) Well, we had our day, Mary Ann, we had our day, and poor Zachariah was hardly in his grave when Jenkins y Gof offered me a row of taters in his garden. But when a woman's tried two of them, Mary Ann, it would be like tempting Providence to want a third. (Sighing.) I'll be back in a minute. (Takes pictures out.)
	MRS. HOWELLS smiles reflectively and sighs to herself. Then she crosses to table on left and examines bread with a critical eye. She goes back to the box as Mrs. Evans comes in. Re-enter Mrs. Evans with a stocking she is knitting.
Mrs Evans	I was thinking just now about those old days when Mrs. Morgan was in. She's only been married a month.
Mrs Howells	Has she started baking her own bread?
Mrs Evans	Yes. She's got two in to-night.
Mrs Howells	Oh, indeed! Large or Small?
Mrs Evans	Small.
Mrs Howells	Well, people may say what they like, but I've always believed the small loaves bake more even. I'd never make large myself.
Mrs Evans	It's her first baking; and pretty excited about it she is, I can tell you.
Mrs Howells	Well, its only natural.
Mrs Evans	She even forgot to mark it.
Mrs Howells	Taw sôn! Forgot to mark it?
Mrs Evans	But I've put it in the corner by the wall, so that I'll know.
Mrs Howells	Nice little thing she is, I'd say, from the look of her.
Mrs Evans	Oh, yes! Tidy little woman. Mrs. Price Shop Loshin says she's too stuck-up, I doubt its true.
Mrs Howells	But then, according to Mrs. Price Shop Loshin, everybody's too stuck up that won't waste half the morning talking over the wall.
Mrs Evans	And of course, Mrs. Price is thick as thieves with Mrs. Richards the Checkweigher.
Mrs Howells	I suppose Mrs. Richards will never get over it that Davy Morgan didn't marry her Jinnie after all?
Mrs Evans	Well, you see, there's no denying it is a good business, and Davy'll get it all after the old man's days.
Mrs Howells	They thought a lot of his wife down there at the Paris House, and I'll say this for her whatever─that bonnet she made for our Sarah when Matthew died was almost enough to make a woman thankful to be a widow.
	MRS. MORGAN is seen passing the window.
Mrs Evans	H'sh! Here she is.
Mrs Howells	Who?
Mrs Evans	Mrs. Morgan. Desc {There is a knock and the door opens. Enter MRS. MORGAN with tray and cloth as before. She stands by table at back.
Mrs Howells	(Tactfully changing the conversation.) And, of course, I told him he'd better come back in the morning. Oh! It's Mrs. Morgan!
Mrs Morgan	I thought it might be ready now, Mrs. Evans─
Mrs Evans	But, mawredd, Mrs. Morgans fach, it's only twenty-five to ten.
Mrs Morgan	That's all? But, Mrs. Evans, couldn't you just look?
Mrs Howells	(Kindly.) It's your first baking, I suppose, Mrs. Morgan?
	(MRS. MORGAN comes down stage on the left.)
Mrs Morgan	(Trying to be casual.) Well, in a way, yes. My husband is very fond of home-made, Mrs. Howells.
Mrs Evans	Shows his good sense, Mrs. Morgan.
Mrs Morgan	And of course, it's a woman's business to get her husband everything he wants.
Mrs Howells	(Smiling.) Er─how long did you say you'd been married?
Mrs Morgan	Nearly a month. (Seeing MRS. HOWELLS exchange glances with MRS. EVANS.) I─I─you're making fun, Mrs. Howells. (She draws herself up.)
Mrs Howells	No, I'm not making fun, Mrs. Morgan. But it isn't a woman's business to get her husband everything he wants.
Mrs Morgan	No? What is it then?
Mrs Howells	(Reflectively.) Well, I'd say now it's her business to keep him from wanting everything she can't get.
Mrs Morgan	What d'you mean? I don't think I understand.
Mrs Howells	Never you mind then. You will some day.
Mrs Evans	Don't you notice her, Mrs. Morgan. She always had different ideas from anybody else.
Mrs Morgan	But some men are different to others─
Mrs Howells	I wonder!
Mrs Evans	Well, there wasn't much alike about my two─beyond a coat and trousers.
Mrs Morgan	And my husband's an exception─
Mrs Howells	Every woman's husband is an exception, Mrs. Morgan─-when she's only been married a month.
Mrs Morgan	(Turning away somewhat writated.) I'll come back at ten, Mrs. Evans.
Mrs Evans	Ten sharp it comes out.
Mrs Morgan	And if─Mrs. Evans─suppose it isn't all right, p'raps you'd just put it aside without anybody seeing it?
Mrs Evans	I'll do my best, whatever. But it isn't so easy when there's a bakehouse full of women. And you can venture the Richardses will want to have a look.
Mrs Morgan	(Troubled.) Yes. That's what I mean─the Richardses.
Mrs Howells	Don't you vex about them, Mrs. Morgan. They're not worth it.
Mrs Morgan	It's all very well for Jinnie Richards, that's been at home all her life. But if it came to making bonnets─
Mrs Howells	Aay. Then she'd see; and, if you'll excuse me mentioning it, that was a grand little bonnet you made for our Sarah─
Mrs Morgan	I'd rather make fifty of them than go through this day again.
Mrs Evans	We've all had to go through it─the best of us; even Mrs. Howells here.
Mrs Howells	Yes. But, to-day, when the talk is of baking, I can hold up my head with any woman in the valley. And I've got my own tins, too, with my name on them. Wara tég i Evan! He does take a pride in the bread. What did you: use, Mrs. Morgan, yeast or barm?
Mrs Morgan	Yeast, Mrs. Howells. I go it at the Top Shop last night─
	Mrs. Howells and Mrs Evans together:
Mrs Howells	(Rising.) Wh-a-a-t?
Mrs Evans	Well, yn enw dyn!
Mrs Howells	Top Shop? Last night?
Mrs Morgan	(Terrified.) Yes, that's where I'm dealing. Is there anything─
Mrs Howells	Did you try it, Mrs. Morgan?
Mrs Morgan	Try it?
Mrs Howells	Yes. Mix it with warm water and sprinkle flour on it, and put it on the hob to see if it would rise?
Mrs Morgan	No! Is that what I ought─ (Almost crying.) It's spoiled! It's all spoiled! I know it's all spoiled. (To Mrs. Evans, beseechingly.) Don't let them see it, Mrs. Evans! Don't let them see it─not that Jinnie Richards!
Mrs Howells	Let me see. You're living in Tredegar Terrace. Have you got any of that yeast left?
Mrs Morgan	Yes; a lot. I thought I'd keep it for next time.
	Mrs. Howells and Mrs Evans together:
Mrs Howells	Keep it?
Mrs Evans	Keep yeast?
	They exchange glances.
Mrs Howells	You'd better run home quick, and bring me a bit to look at.
Mrs Evans	Yes. Do as she tells you. Leave the tray. Run now. Quick!
	MRS. MORGAN goes off, leaving tray and cloth on table at back, and is seen hurrying past the window. MRS. HOWELLS and MRS. EVANS stand looking at ach other in astonishment and dismay.
Mrs Howells	Betsi?
Mrs Evans	Well?
Mrs Howells	That bread won't rise with that Top Shop yeast─not if you leave it there till Judgment Day!
Mrs Evans	And that's the girl Davy Morgan was so dull on!
Mrs Howells	Pity for her, too, mind you! She's young; that's all.
Mrs Evans	Well, if it's spoiled, it's spoiled!
Mrs Howells	Can't we do something, Betsi? I don't like to think of her looking simple before all the others, and her only newly married.
	Voices are heard without.
Mrs Evans	H'sh! There's somebody coming.
	(They both listen.)
Mrs Howells	It's the Richardses! (She resumes her seat on the box.)
Mrs Evans	Yes; both of them. (Standing right side of table at back, begins to polish tins on table.)
	MRS. HOWELLS stiffens involuntarily as MRS. RICHARDS and JINNIE come in. The atmosphere: becomes frigid and formal. MRS RICHARDS is a middle-aged woman, sharp-visaged and angular. JINNIE is a fairly good-looking girl of twenty-five. She carries a tray.
Mrs Richards	Noswath dda 'chi, Mrs. Evans. (Coldly.) Good night, Mrs. Howells. (Seats herself on chair at end of table on left, facing MRS. HOWELLS.
Mrs Evans	Noswath dda; noswath dda, Jinnie.
Mrs Howells	Good night to you, Mrs. Richards. How are you, Miss Richards?
Jinnie	Pretty well, thank you, indeed, Mrs. Howells.
Mrs Richards	I suppose the bread won't be long now, Mrs. Evans?
Mrs Evans	Not long now, indeed. Ishta lawr, Jinnie. (Pointing to chair left of table at back.)
	JINNIE takes seat.
Mrs Richards	I was just saying to Jinnie─
	Enter Mrs. Price Shop Loshin, carrying tray.
Mrs Price	Noswath dda 'chi i gyd! Bread ready, Mrs.Evans? (Nods towards MRS. RICHARDS, taking position against table at back.)
Mrs Evans	Pretty near now, Mrs. Price.
	MRS. PRICE, after a curt nod towards MRS. HOWELLS, turns to JINNIE and whispers to her.)
Mrs Evans	(To MRS. HOWELLS aside.) It's all up on Mrs. Morgan and her bread now, Mary Ann!
Mrs Price	I didn't expect to find you here so early, Mrs. Richards.
Mrs Richards	(To MRS. PRICE.) Well, indeed, I was saying to our Jinnie here, p'raps Mrs. Price Shop Loshin would be up in the bakehouse: bit early. Wasn't I, Jinnie?
Jinnie	Yes, yes. Just after supper.
Mrs Richards	Richards has gone down the valley to see my son-in-law. P'raps you've heard me mention my son-in-law the minister, Mrs Howells?
Mrs Howells	(With frigid sweetness.) Oh yes, Mrs. Richards, often! (Looks up from the newspaper, at which, from now on, she frequently glances between her remarks.)
Mrs Richards	I don't know why he should have such looks on Richards's opinion; but he's always asking your father's advice, isn't he, Jinnie fach?
Jinnie	Always, indeed! D'you remember mam?─it was father persuaded him to put in those broad beans by the wall.
Mrs Evans	Well, indeed, now, say what you like; there's nothing nicer than broad beans and a bit of bacon.
Mrs Richards	Of course, they've made Richards a deacon in Horeb. That's one thing─
Jinnie	And my brother-in-law was saying he ought to have been elected years ago.
Mrs Price	Well, they made Jones Shop Flannel a deacon long enough ago, and if it come to a matter of praying, Richards could pray him out of house and home. That's my opinion, however.
	Enter Mrs. Jones Shop Flannel, standing in the doorway. She carries a plain basket.
Mrs Jones	Is it out yet, Mrs. Evans?
Mrs Evans	Only a few minutes now, Mrs. Jones. Come in, you!
	MRS. JONES takes up position by table on left.
Mrs Richards	And how is Mr. Jones to-night, Mrs. Jones? Is the rheumatic on him all the time?
Mrs Jones	Well, indeed, he'a a bit better, Mrs. Richards. He was able to dig a few taters this morning.
Mrs Richards	Very good, indeed. Da iawn yn wir! (With unctuous sympathy to MRS. HOWELLS.) And how is your poor husband, Mrs. Howells?
Mrs Howells	Oh! he's eating his allowance pretty hearty, thank you, Mrs. Richards.
Mrs Richards	I feel I ought to tell you, Mrs. Howells, how sorry I am about what happened in Horeb. I've said all along it was such an awful pity. Our Jinnie here will tell you the same─
Mrs Howells	I'm sure she will, Mrs. Richards.
Mrs Richards	But Richards's conscience wouldn't let him rest. (MRS. HOWELLS raises her eye-brows.) And he'd not long been made a deacon.
Mrs Howells	Every new broom sweeps clean, as we all know.
Mrs Richards	And, of course, it was such a disgrace on the chapel.
Mrs Howells	Well, I wouldn't like to be the one to say so, Mrs. Richards; but you ought to know your own husband best─
	JINNIE RICHARDS sees MRS. MORGAN's cloth on table and picks it up.
Mrs Richards	(Haughtily.) I am referring, Mrs. Howells, to your husband being brought home in a barrow on a Saturday night.
Mrs Howells	(With mock humility.) Oh! I beg your pardon. I didn't understand. MRS. PRICE (With a snort.) Understand, indeed!
	Turns away, as JINNIE rises with cloth in her hand.
Jinnie	Nice little cloth, indeed, Mrs. Price. Yours is it?
Mrs Price	No, not mine. (Looking at name in corner.) 'M. Morgan.' Well, yn y wir! That's Mrs. Morgan, Tredegar Terrace, I suppose? Hers it is, Mrs. Evans?
	MRS. RICHARDS and JINNIE show signs of interest. The cloth is passed via MRS. JONES to MRS. RICHARDS, who examines it critically.
Mrs Evans	Yes, yes. Hers it is.
Mrs Richards	So she's started baking then, Mrs. Evans?
Mrs Evans	Yes.
Jinnie	How many has she got in, Mrs. Evans?
Mrs Evans	Two.
Jinnie	Large or small?
Mrs Evans	Small.
Jinnie	What's her mark?
Mrs Evans	Well, indeed, she hasn't got a mark to-night.
Mrs Price	Got her own tins already then?
Mrs Evans	No. Bakehouse tins.
Mrs Price	Handy kind of wife, I must say, making bread and not putting her mark!
Mrs Richards	You can't feed a man on bonnets, Mrs. Price.
Mrs Jones	Well, only beginning she is, I suppose.
Mrs Price	I'm a woman that speaks her mind, Mrs. Jones, as you know, and what I say is it beats me what come over Davy Morgan to take a wife like that.
Mrs Jones	I must say I've found her very nice-spoken.
Mrs Price	It's her uppish ways I can't abide, Mrs. Jones; and there's meat there thrown away, something sinful to behold, as no one knows better than me that lives next door and sees her ash-bucket.
Mrs Evans	Well, indeed, I hear many on the Twmp here giving her a good word.
Mrs Jones	Yes, there you, many!
Mrs Richards	People can be very deceiving, Mrs. Evans.
Mrs Howells	(Heartily.) They can, Mrs. Richards.
Mrs Richards	(Ignoring MRS. HOWELLS's remark.) You know what girls are to-day, Mrs. Price.
Mrs Howells	Very much what they were yesterday, I expect. Of course, Davy Morgan took us all by surprise up here on the Twmp, so sure we were he'd fixed his mind somewhere else─
Jinnie	(Rising indignantly.) I hope you don't think, Mrs. Howells─
Mrs Howells	(Soothingly.) Oh! No offence, Miss Richards fach. No offence. I was only just saying like; that's all─
Jinnie	I suppose there's as good fish in the, sea as ever came out of it.
Mrs Howells	Oh, yes! Only, of course, in a way of speaking, it means you've got to go on fishing.
	JINNIE, overwhelmed, resumes her seat. MRS. RICHARDS stalks up majestically to table at back, and puts down cloth with a bang.
Mrs Richards	(Looking fiercely at MRS. HOWELLS.) Well, Jinnie fach, if ever you should happen to get married, I hope it'll be to a man that can walk home on a Saturday night.
	MRS. HOWELLS's lips tighten, but she says nothing. MRS. PRICE, looking at Mrs. RICHARDS, nods approvingly. Enter MAGGIE HOWELLS─a little girl of twelve. She carries a basket.
Maggie	(In doorway.) Mrs. Evans, has my─ Oh, there you are, mam!
Mrs Howells	(Lovingly.) Yes. Here I am, Maggie fach. Dewch yma, merch i.
Maggie	I wasn't sure. So I thought I'd better come─
Mrs Howells	The bread won't be long now.
Mrs Evans	Five minutes; that's all.
Mrs Jones	(Stopping MAGGIE.) Coming for the bread you were, Maggie fach? Well, I hope some day you'll make bread as good as your mother's. Such lovely bread I never did see!
	During this, MRS. PRICE produces a large piece of sweetmeat, which MAGGIE eyes with appreciation. She takes it and says, 'Thank you.' Then crosses and stands by her mother.
Mrs Howells	(Aside to MAGGIE.) Did you say thank you? MAGGIE (From a full mouth.) Yes. (To MRS. JONES.) As bread goes about here, mine isn't so bad.
Mrs Jones	Three small you're baking all the time, I suppose?
	MRS. HOWELLS is about to answer when she is suddenly struck by an idea.
Mrs Howells	Well─er─yes. Three small.
Jinnie	It's lucky, indeed, you are with such a small baking─
Maggie	(Surprised.) But there were─
Mrs Howells	(Tugging MAGGIE's dress to quiet her, and glancing meaningly at Mrs. EVANS.) But it's quite enough twice a week, isn't it, Maggie fach? (She shows signs of suppressed excitement.)
Mrs Jones	Well, I find it quite enough baking for a husband, to say nothing of a family─
Mrs Howells	It is, indeed. And since you: happened to mention husbands, did Mrs. Evans here: show you the likenesses─
The Others	(With a slight movement forward.) Likenesses?
Mrs Howells	Yes─her two husbands─
Mrs Richards	Both of them?
	There is a general flutter of interest.
Mrs Howells	Yes, Yanto and Zachariah. Framed beautiful, too, I can tell you.
Mrs Jones	Well, indeed, it shows a nice, feeling having them both.
Mrs Howells	I thought you'd have shown them, Betsi─
Mrs Price	Yes, where are they? Let's have a look. (Turning towards MRS. RICHARDS.) I was thinking of having one of our William─
	For a second or two, in dumb show, she seems to be enlarging on the matter to MRS. RICHARDS, MRS. JONES, and JINNIE.)
Mrs Howells	(Pulling Mrs. Evans to the front right corner.) Get them out for five minutes. I've got an idea.
Mrs Evans	(Turning to the others.) Well, there's just a few minutes. In the house they are.
	She goes towards the door, followed by the others, except MRS. HOWELLS and MAGGIE. All go off, talking together.
Mrs Howells	(Jumping up briskly.) Now, Maggie, fy nghariad i, stand by the door and tell me if you see anyone coming.
Maggie	(Running to the door.) All right, mam. (Stands looking out.)
Mrs Howells	(Hurriedly opening oven door.) And mindia di nawr, Maggie, if anyone was to ask you, it's only three loaves we've baked to-day.
Maggie	But there were five─
Mrs Howells	P'raps so. But there's only three if they ask you. Let me see now─in the corner by the wall. Dyna fe! Dyna fe! There's plenty of lies being told every day to do people harm. I'm sure the Almighty can excuse just one to help a young married woman baking her first bread. I've been young myself; and I know what it is.
	Seizing a cloth from nail in the right back corner, takes out two tins holding a dull pasty mass.
Mrs Howells	Ach y fi! No more like bread than I'm like the Queen of England!
	Tips out contents of tins on box on which she sat. Puts tins on box also.
Mrs Howells	Anyone coming, Maggie?
Maggie	Not yet, mam.
Mrs Howells	Nawr ta! Two of mine. (Takes two tins of very good bread from oven and tips them out on table at back.) There's no mark on them, thank goodness!
Maggie	(Advancing towards table.) But that's our bread─
Mrs Howells	Look you down the road. The less you see in this old world the less there is to tell lies about. (She transfers the two good loaves to MRS. MORGAN's tins and puts them back into oven, closing it carefully.) Anybody coming? MAGGIE. No. (Gathering up her own two empty tins and MRS. MORGAN'S abortive bread to stow the lot out of sight under the box.) Mrs. Morgan may have brought in two tins of putty. But if Mrs. Richards is going to look on, Mrs. Morgan will be taking out as good bread as any in this blessed bakehouse to-night. And that's a slap in the face for old mother Richards! Now you just run home and forget, Maggie fach. It takes a woman as wicked as me to deal with a woman as good as Mrs. Richards. And if anything shifts me off this old box for a bit, it'll be nothing short of sudden death.
	Sits down in a most determined way. Voices are heard from the house as she takes her seat.
Mrs Howells	Cera shathre, Maggie. Cera waft!
	MAGGIE goes out.
Mrs Richards	(Without.) Yes, Mrs. Evans, if there's one thing I do like to see, it's people showing respect for the dead.
	Enter MRS. RICHARDS. Takes former position.
Mrs Price	(As she enters.) Anything more like I never did see─never! (Takes position by table on left, near MRS. RICHARDS.)
Mrs Jones	(To Mrs. Evans, as they come in together.) One each side of the fire-place─it's only tight, Mrs. Evans! It wouldn't be fair to make a difference.
	MRS. JONES takes position by table at back. MRS. EVANS crosses towards MRS. HOWELLS, who whispers to her, pointing to oven as if explaining.
Jinnie	(Entering quickly.) She's coming.
	Takes up position left of MRS. JONES. MRS. MORGAN is seen hurrying past window.
Mrs Howells	Well, Betsi, how about the bread?
	BETSI opens oven door. MRS. MORGAN appears. Seeing the RICHARDSES, she is nonplussed. The RICHARDSES stiffen in their manner.
Mrs Howells	Oh! Come back you have, Mrs. Morgan? Brought me that bit of yeast, I hope?
Mrs Morgan	(Going quickly towards MRS. HOWELLS.) I couldn't find it at first.
Mrs Howells	(Taking yeast.) Thank you very much. (Smelling it, makes a grimace of disgust.) Lovely bit of yeast it is, too. Here's the bread coming out now, however!
	MRS. MORGAN gasps and retreats a few steps, taking position to MRS. JONES's right, by table at back. JINNIE moves over to MRS. PRICE and her mother.
Mrs Morgan	(Staring fascinated at the oven.) Is─it─is it ready, Mrs. Evans?
Mrs Howells	Got mine there, Betsi?
Mrs Evans	Yes. Here they are─beauties, too, indeed! (Takes out three loaves counting 'one─two─three'; puts them on table at back.)
Mrs Howells	Three. That's my lot.
	MRS. JONES looks at MRS. HOWELLS's bread with frank admiration. MRS. RICHARDS and Co. eye it sideways with ill-disguised envy. MRS. MORGAN looks at it with a kind of solemn awe.
Mrs Evans	(Turning again to oven.) And here's yours, Mrs. Morgan.
Mrs Morgan	(With a gasp.) Oh!
	The RICHARDS faction move in a little, watching.
Mrs Evans	Two, isn't it─bake-house tins, and no mark?
Mrs Morgan	(In extremis, murmuring.) Ye-s-s.
Mrs Evans	Here we are then!
	Produces two splendid loaves and advances a few steps, holding them out. There is a general murmur. Mrs. Morgan claps her hands with a cry of delight.
Mrs Jones	Da iawn, merch i! Ardderchog, yn y wir!
Mrs Howells	Not so bad, indeed! What do you say, Mrs. Richards?
Mrs Richards	(Mincingly.) I'm sure I'm very glad─
Mrs Howells	I'm sure you are.
Mrs Morgan	Are these─mine?
	Mrs. Evans nods.
Mrs Howells	(Rising, takes loaves from tins with apron, taps them and examines them critically.) A nice bit of bread, Mrs. Morgan─a good bit of bread. Might be a bit more even in the crust, p'raps; but a tidy bit of bread. I wouldn't be ashamed to see it in my own tins.
	MRS. MORGAN turns round and takes up her tray. MRS. JONES opens out the cloth. With a laugh of triumph and a victorious glance towards JINNIE, MRS. MORGAN holds out tray to MRS. HOWELLS, who puts loaves on. MRS. JONES covers them reverentially. MRS. MORGAN turns to go.)
Mrs Evans	That'll be a penny, Mrs. Morgan.
Mrs Morgan	Oh, yes! I was forgetting.
	Hands tray to MRS. JONES; produces purse and pays MRS. EVANS; takes tray again; to MRS. HOWELLS.)
Mrs Morgan	P'raps you'll come up and have a cup of tea with me one day this week, Mrs. Howells?
Mrs Howells	Well, it's very kind of you asking, Mrs. Morgan.
Mrs Morgan	Suppose we say to-morrow?
Mrs Howells	All right, to-morrow. Diolch yn fawr.
Mrs Morgan	I generally have a cup by myself at four o'clock. But, if you'd rather, my husband has tea at six.
Mrs Howells	(Significantly.) I think I'd better come at four, Mrs. Morgan.
Mrs Morgan	Very well. We can have a little chat to ourselves.
Mrs Howells	(Smiling kindly.) Yes, I'd like a little chat to ourselves.
Mrs Morgan	(Triumphantly in exit.) Good night, Mrs. Richards; good night, Miss Richards.
	MRS. RICHARDS and party, crushed and crestfallen, turn slowly and stare at her as she goes out. MRS. HOWELLS resumes her seat, sighing softly to herself. CURTAIN