ME AN’ METHUSELAR.

Harriet Ford.

[Scene.—An alley leading to the stage entrance of the theater. Enter a very ragged child carrying a pet cat. She looks cautiously around as if afraid of being followed. Her dress is draggled and she wears an old shawl. Her hair is tangled and unkempt.]

NOP—nobody seed us, Methuselar. Nop—no—o—op. Thought sure Pike Cotes’u’d guess what we wuz up t’, an’ foller. Oh—oo! Oh—oo! That wuz a stunner, wa’n’t it, Methuselar? Sit down sudden ’nough that time, didn’t we? Oh—oo! Did I smash his ’ittle empty stomach? Did I? Drat Daddy? He drank yer milk, he did. Meuw, meuw! You’re right, Methuselar. He’s a stingy, skimpy, skinny old stealer. That he is. But you knowed you stayed out on the roof half the night—yes, you did, yes, you did. O’ course, ye’re shamed of it, now ye’re starved an’ sober. Daddy got in first an’ swiped your drink, he did. There’s no ust o’ me talkin’. You an’ Daddy are dead set t’ keep out nights. Yes, you be, yes, you be! Never you mind. We’ll buy a whole river o’ milk sometime or ’nother, an’ you shall jest swim in it, Methuselar.

We’ve had a tough time of it to-day, hain’t we? This ’ere’s me first ’round these diggin’s. Don’t believe nobody never thought o’ this afore. My eyes! but I wuz ’fraid Pike Cotes ’u’d catch on an’ sneak after us, but we skipped him. This must be the stage-door. We’ll jest set here an’ sing, Methuselar.

Can’t seem to rouse a shadder, Methuselar. Meuw! You knowed this wuz the spot fer us. Yes, you did, yes, you did. Didn’t you wink yer grazy eyes, an’ wag yer fuzzy tail when I sat an’ thought it up. Now, you knowed from the start, Methuselar, that you had t’ toddle ’long a me, an’ you ’greed to it, yes, you did, you did. You heard Pike Cotes tell how he got in the the-a-tur t’run erruns an’ things, an’ he said as how all the acturs an’ show folks jest dote on cats, an’ ’u’d have a fit if one turned agin ’em. Why, Puss, they’d no more dare walk by me an’ you ’thout givin’ us a penny fer luck—goodness! Here comes one.

He can’t be an actur, Methuselar. Why, he looked right at you an’ you never phased him. That song did it, Methuselar. It’s a Jonah, ain’t it? Let’s try anodder.

Here comes somebody else. Better luck this time, Methuselar.

My eyes! Methuselar, ain’t it grand? Hain’t seen one afore t’-day, have we? You caught her, Methuselar. Yes, you did, you did! She’s ’fraid you’d bring her everlastin’ bad luck. Guess she don’t know it’s ’bout all you kin do t’ hustle fer yourself ’thout mousin’ ’round hoodooin’ other folks. You couldn’t do much hoodooin’ on such an awful empty stomach, could you? Brace up, Methuselar! Here comes a swell.

Oh, sir, jest a penny t’ help a girl, me an’ puss are starvin’. Jest a—

Oh, thank you, sir! Thank you!

A nickle, as you’re a cat with whiskers, Methuselar! You done it, you done it! Yes, you did—yes, you did. Yer first trip, too, ain’t it? You’ll soon be up t’ the tricks. You do look hungry, Methuselar, but I’ll have t’ train you in looks. Now, jest t’ think, if you could squeeze out a few tears while I sung, my eyes! wouldn’t we get rich! Here comes a beautiful lady. Hush up an’ I’ll try a new dodge on ’er.

Oh, lady, can’t you give a poor girl a lift? I do so want t’ see you act in the play. If I could only git a few more pennies, me an’ a friend ’u’d clap you out of sight. Jest a few pennies, a quarter or a dime, or a nickle ’u’d do, lady. Oh, thank you! Much obliged, much obliged! God bless you, lady!

Ho, ho! Methuselar! How’s that? Ain’t you proud o’ yer mudder? That’s the way to catch ’em. Pike put me on, he did, the night he an’ me went to the play, an’ he tole me t’ help him raise the roof whenever his bloomin’ benefactor so much as put his nose on the stage.

Methuselar, I don’t think we need to sing. Anybody jest t’ look at us ’u’d know we wuz poverty-struck. Now, I’d know you was the minit I seen you. Well, I have t’ sing t’ make folks look, I s’pose. Oh, see this gentleman, Methuselar! I guess an upperatic song’ll catch him.

Oh, thank you, sir. Oh, thank you! Thank you! My name? Oh—Ginny Mur—Genavarur Murkin’s my name, sir. Yes, I have t’ sing or I guess we’d starve. I’d a’ sung better for you jest now only I’m frightful hungry. Rats ain’t in it with me an’ Methuselar. Methuselar? This ’ere’s Methuselar. We’re pards. Purty name? Yes, we think so. Pike Cotes, he named him. He’s ’bout the only friend I got, Pike is. He goes t’ Sunday school, Pike does, an’ he tole me, he says: “Now, if you’ll name that ’ere cat Methuselar, he’ll live to be as old as this ’ere house, see?”

Our house? Well, ’taint ourn, but we live on top. Bordun’s saloon’s on the first floor, you see, an’ Granny Midders an’ her son’s on the second. Tom Grimy an’ his pard’s the third, an’ Daddy an’ me an’ Methuselar’s fourth back. That ’ere saloon’s the spite o’ me an’ Methuselar’s life, ’cause Dad he—he can’t—can’t get by it nohow. He’s richer’n we are, but he has t’ drink. He can’t help it somehow. He’s purty weak lately. Me an’ Methuselar think he’s ’bout drowned out.

What, sir? What, sir? Sing—in—the the-a-tur? Yes, sir! Yes, sir—yes—sir! Sing in the the-a-tur? My eyes! You don’t think they’d have me? You do? Sing in the the-a-tur! Sing—in—oh, sir, may I try? I’ll sing—nobody never heard the way I’ll try for it, sir. Not alone? Yes, I know, sir—in the chorus, yes, sir. To-morrow? Yes, sir. Ten o’clock sharp, sir. Yes, I’ll fix up a bit, sir. Oh, thank you, sir. Look for you? Yes, sir. Good-bye, sir. Good-bye, sir—Good-bye!

Sing—in—the—the-a-tur! Methuselar! Me—Ginny Murkins. You shall hear, Methuselar, you shall, you shall. My! but I’ll be skart, won’t I? But I’ll sing, Methuselar. What’ll Pike say now, what’ll he say? Methuselar, you shall have a bouncin’ bowl of milk this minit, an’ Granny Midders shall help me get a gown. Methuselar—think of it! Sing in the the-a-tur—the the-a-tur—the the-a-tur!

[Exit laughing and crying.]