THE WOODCUTTER'S WISHES.
SCENE: The living room in a woodcutter's cottage on a stormy night. The 
woodcutter enters and begins to take off his wet things.
Woodcutter: What a night! Rain and wind! Wife, where are you?
Wife (coming in): Here I am. Here I am.
Woodcutter: At last! I wish you could  be about when a man comes home, tired from his work.
Wife: And I wish you wouldn't come home so grumpy. How am I to get the 
supper ready if you keep me fussing
round you?
Woodcutter: All right, all right. Now, where are my slippers? I do wish 
you would put a man's slippers where he could find them.
Wife: Why, there they are under the chair you are sitting on. I wish you 
would use your eyes.
Woodcutter: Well, can't a man say a word without having his head snapped 
off ! Is supper ready?
Wife: Yes. I am bringing it now.
Woodcutter: Soup and bread! Yesterday was soup and bread, and the day 
before it was bread and soup.
Wife: Well, be thankful for that. If you earned more we could have more.
Woodcutter: I work hard enough, don't I? I only wish you had my work to 
do, that's all.
Wife: " I wish! I wish! " I never knew such a man for wishing. Come and 
have your supper.
Woodcutter: There's someone at the door. (He opens it to a stranger). Well, my man, what can I. do for you? Come in out of the 
rain, and have some supper. I was just saying I wish we had something better to eat.
Stranger: I am a traveller and I've lost my way. This is good soup.
Woodcutter: I suppose you have been to many places and seen many things.
Stranger: Yes,  I have been nearly everywhere you can think of.
Woodcutter: I wish I had been to some of them. I wish - 
Stranger: You seem to wish a great deal, sir.
Wife: Oh, he's always wishing. It's wish, wish, wish from morning till 
night.
Stranger: Then I have something here that will interest you. Look!
Woodcutter: It's only an acorn, isn't it?
Stranger: Yes, but a magic acorn. It can make wishes come true. Don't 
touch it. It needs careful handling. You place
it in the right hand, think carefully, and wish. Do not let go of the 
acorn; you may want it again, and quickly.
Wife: And you can go on wishing and wishing!
Stranger: No, because the acorn grows smaller at each wish. After the third wish it vanishes altogether.
Woodcutter: Only three wishes!
Wife: I could do a great deal with three good wishes.
Stranger: Well, you may have the acorn, and now I must go. Thank you for 
the supper and your kindness. The storm
is over.
Both: Good night! A safe journey! (Stranger goes.)
Woodcutter: Fancy a little thing like this having three wishes in it! 
Would you believe it? I wish - 
Wife: Stop, don't wish yet. You have the acorn in your hand. You don't 
want to go wishing some silly little thing like, "I wish I had a pudding for to-morrow's dinner. "
Woodcutter: Well, so I do.
Wife: There you go! (A pudding bounces in across the floor.) You silly 
man! There is a whole wish wasted. Give me the acorn.
Woodcutter: Be careful, now. Don't lose it. I say, it's a lovely pudding, hot too.
Wife: All the same, you have wasted a good wish. We might have wished for
a palace, or a sack of gold, or anything. And all you could wish for was a 
pudding! I wish you had your pudding stuck
on your silly head, and so I do.
Woodcutter (who had gone behind screen. appearing again): What are you 
saying, wife ?
Wife: Oh, it has come true!
Woodcutter: Yes. Two wishes gone and look at me! What are you going to do now with a pudding-head for a husband? And a 
hot pudding too! Let me think.

"OH, IT HAS COME TRUE!"

Wife: I wish - 
Woodcutter: Don't! Are you out of your mind? There is only one more wish 
left in the thing. Put it down in case you
wish by accident.
Wife: Oh, I've dropped it.
Woodcutter: Then look for it. This pudding is getting hotter and hotter. 
Hurry! Hurry! What's that?  There it is. No bigger than a dried pea! Now, let me get, the wish right. There is no choice now. I 
must wish the pudding off my head.
I wish the pudding were in my hands again.
Wife: Oh! It has come true, and there is our last wish gone. How red your 
face is!
Woodcutter: Your face would be red if it had been where mine has. But never 
mind that. Do you know, wife, my head was doing some thinking while it was inside that pudding. I thought how silly I was to 
spend so much time wishing.
Wife: I am just as bad. Well, we have learned our lesson. We will turn over a new leaf from now.
Woodcutter: We will; and to celebrate the occasion, we'll eat the pudding. 
I wonder where the Stranger is. I wish - 
Wife: No you don't, husband. Cut the pudding.
-Adapted from " The London Dramatic Books," by RODNEY BENNETT. Third 
series. Book I. (University of London Press.)

BONNY PRINCE CHARLIE.
SCENE: A lonely hut among the heather on an island off the coast of 
Scotland on a late June evening in the year
1746. Prince Charlie is building up a fire, and his man, O'Neil, is 
standing with a basket in his hand.
Prince: Odd's life! I may fail in winning a throne, but I can light a 
fire.  A goodly blaze, O'Neil- What, man, so sour a
face still?
O'Neil: Nay, I wonder Your Highness can make so light of your danger. It 
seems to me - 
Prince: A pox on you for a cheerless rogue, O'Neil! What else may I do 
but make light of it? And now, is not that a good -fire, and made by royal Stuart hands?
O'Neil: Hush, I pray you, sir! Do not talk so. Your Highness is in such 
deadly peril, I doubt even the wisdom of lighting
a fire at all, for the smoke may be seen from far off, and the redcoats 
are ever on the watch.
Prince: Now, there's gratitude for you! I build him a fire to cook the supper, and all he does is to tell me I ought not to have done 
it. Nay, man, be not 
afeared. There's a hole in the roof, to be sure, but
most of the smoke stays obligingly with us (coughing) as you can see.
O'Neil: Well, as Your Highness pleases! Here is all I could get for supper: 
some bullock's liver and kidneys, a spit to
roast them on, and a loaf of rye bread.
Prince: Why, that's good fare for a hungry man. I'll do the roasting. How 
and where did you get this, O'Neil?
O'Neil: In a crofter's hut, two miles away. I told him I had a lame servant 
out in the heather, and he asked me no
questions, and gave me all he could spare. Poor folk, I could see by the 
hut.
Prince: What would I give to reward them, these noble folk, as they 
deserve! Think of it! A hunted man with a great
price on his head, which these people could have for the asking, and 
they'll not try to win it! Well, some day, when I
come back as King, they'll see that I'm grateful.
O'Neil: Aye, to be sure, and meanwhile, Your Highness, will you observe the 
supper's burning!
Prince (laughing): It is indeed! What a good thing I have you, friend, to 
bring me to earth again, when Stuart dreams
carry me away. O'Neil, will they soon be here? Miss Macdonald and her friends, I mean.
O'Neil: They should come any moment, Your Highness. I must go and get some 
more firewood. You stay in the hut, whatever happens, while I'm gone. (Exit.)
Prince (calling after  him): Faith, man, a cook must watch his cookery. 
Ah, well! (Turns spit over and over-hums-sits
hugging his knees deep in thought. Lady Clanranald and Flora Macdonald 
enter quietly. The Prince rises to his feet
and they kneel to him.)
Lady C.: Your Highness! Pardon the sudden entrance-we-
Prince (taking their hands and raising them both): What! Shall my best 
friends beg my pardon for coming to my help? Ladies, I fear I can offer you but a rough bundle of straw to sit on; 
but some day, if all goes well, you shall have fine
gilt chairs in Holyrood Palace.
Lady C: Nay, Your Highness, a royal couch, this! If we may but help our 
Prince, we are more than rewarded. And now
we must to business. Flora has brought what is needed for " Betty Burke," 
her new Irish maid.
Flora: Aye, may be Your Highness will not like the garments, but it's the 
best we can do. We must take no risks.
(Undoing bundle as she speaks.)
Prince: Betty Burke, an Irish maid, I'm to be! Faith, bonny Miss Flora, 
how ever shall I act the woman?
Flora. Never fear, Your Highness; it's wonderful what garments can do for 
disguise. It's true Your Highness is over tall for a woman, but no matter. You've a bonny face, and yellow hair that might be a 
lassie's. We'll manage.
Prince: Mercy me! What's here? A gown - 
Flora: Aye, a plain cotton print, and see, Your Highness must wear an apron 
over the gown, and the big dark cloak
will hide you from prying eyes, and a bonny lace cap to cover your head.
Lady C: Will Your Highness try the things on, to see if they fit?
Prince: To be sure, to be sure. Well, ladies, I have gone through many 
dangers
and am like to endure more; but I confess I'm in as great a fear as could 
be, to put on such clothes and turn myself
into a woman! But I'll go outside and put them on. (Enter O'Neil with 
wood.) Look, O'Neil, my disguise!
O'Neil: Good evening, ladies. It's thankful indeed I am that you have come, 
for now His Highness can be up and away.
 Prince: And you'll no longer have to fear for what I'll do next, eh? 
(Laughing.) I'll go outside now and turn into an Irish lass.
You'll mind the cooking for me? We'll need supper if only to give us 
courage. (Exit.)
Lady C.: Oh, the bonny brave Prince! The courage of him! Gay, laughing, 
fearless, and then to think of that old thing
from Hanover that sits on the throne he should have had!
Flora: Courage, madam, he may have it yet, if only I can get him safe over 
to Skye. It's a fearful risk to take, but I'll
not be afraid. He's not.
O'Neil: Tell me, what plans have you?
Flora: Why, I've bidden the boatman come, giving the signal of two sharp 
whistles, when he thinks the tide will serve,
and then we'll take our chance. But if the redcoats are about, you must all 
go and leave me and the Prince to hide till
a better time.
O'Neil: It's a good plan, but it's an awful risk. I don't think you can do 
it.
(Prince Charlie, as " Betty Burke," comes striding in and bursts out 
laughing. He is very well disguised, only his walk
betrays him.)
Flora: Mercy me! Your Highness will never do like that!
Prince: What, Miss Flora! I had thought the clothes fitted to perfection.
Flora: The clothes are very well. It's Your Highness's walk I mean. One or 
two steps like those, and all is lost!
Lady C.: To be sure, Flora's right. But if Your Highness will practise 
walking, the disguise is grand. I declare Your
Highness is quite a ravishing maid to look at! (All laugh.)
Prince: Why, then, Miss Flora shall teach me how to walk.
Flora (taking his hand and walking with
little steps up and down): Too clumsy, Your
Highness! The steps are far too big.
Prime: Faith shall I ever learn? You
have a willing but stupid pupil, Miss Flora.
(They go on trying; gradually he improves.)
Flora: That's better. Come, Your Highness shall try alone, (Prince goes on
practising mincing steps. Two whistles are
heard and the boatman enters.)
Flora: Well, man, have you news for us?
Boatman: Aye, lady, but it's no good news. They say the redcoats are on the
watch close by the coast. You'll never get
to the boat to-night.
Lady C.: Nay, we won't risk it with the
militia about. Come back in an hour, and
we'll have, a plan made.
Boatman: Aye, lady, in an hour then.
(Goes.)
Prince: I declare Betty Burke must eat or
she'll die of hunger, redcoats or not! What
say you all? Shall we sup?
Flora: Aye, let us eat now; we'll be
needing food.
O'Neil: Then sit down all. I'll dish the
food.
(As they begin supper, the curtain falls.) Abridged from "Little Scenes from History,"
Book III, by MARGARET M. ELLIOT. (London University Tutorial Press.)

VERA GOES SHOPPING.
 Vera: Now, which would you advise, dear?
 You see, with the red, I shan't be able to
 wear my magenta hat.
 Helen: Well then, why not have the grey! 
 Vera: Yes-yes, I think the grey will be
 more useful.
 Helen: It's a good material.
 Vera: Yes, and it's a pretty grey. You
 know what I mean, dear, not a common grey.
 Of course, grey is always an uninteresting colour.
 Helen: It's quiet.
 Vera: And then again, what I feel about
 the red is that it is so warm looking. Red
 makes you feel warm even when you're not  warm. You know what I mean, dear.
 Helen: Well then, why not have the red? It suits you-red.
Vera: No, do you really think so?
Helen: Well, when you have some colour in your cheeks, I mean, of course.
Vera: Yes, that is the drawback to red. No, I think on the whole the grey 
is safer.
Shopman: Then you will take the grey, madam?
Vera: Yes, I think I'd better; don't you, dear?
Helen: I like it myself very much.
Vera: And it is good-wearing stuff. I shall have it trimmed with - Oh! you 
haven't cut it off, have you?
Shopman: I was just about to, madam.
Vera: Well, don't for a moment. Just let me have another look at the red. You see, dear, I have just remembered that fur of mine 
will look so well on the red.
Helen: So it would. Then have the red. Why not?
Vera: Well, there is the magenta hat
Helen: You haven't anything else you could wear with that?
Vera: Nothing at all, and it would go so beautifully with the grey - Yes, I 
think I'll have the grey. It's always a safe colour - grey.
Shopman: Five yards, I think you said, madam?
Vera: Yes, five yards will be enough. One minute! You see, dear, if I take 
the grey -I'll have nothing to wear with my
black  jacket.
Helen: Won't it go with grey ?
Vera: Not well; not so well as with red.
Helen: I should have the red, then. You seem to fancy it yourself.
Vera: No, personally I prefer the grey; but then one must think of 
everything, and - Good gracious! that's surely not the right time!
Shopman: No, madam, it's ten minutes slow. We always keep our clocks a 
little slow.
Vera: And we were to have been at Madam Jannaway's at a quarter-past 
twelve. How long shopping does take! Why,
whatever time did we start ?
Helen: About eleven, wasn't it?
Vera: Half-past ten. I remember now, because, you know, we said we'd 
start at half-past nine. We've been two hours
already!
Helen: And we don't seem to have done much, do we?
Vera: Done literally nothing, and I meant to have done so much. I must go 
to Madam Jannaway's.
Helen: Well, now. you haven't decided whether you're going to have the 
grey or the red.
Vera: I'm sure I don't know what I do want now. I had made up my mind a 
minute ago and now it's all gone again - Oh
yes, I remember, the red. Yes, I'll have the red. No, I don't mean the 
red; I mean the grey.
Helen: You were talking about the red last time, if you remember, dear.
Vera.. Oh, so I was; you're quite right - that's the worst of shopping. Do 
you know, I get quite confused sometimes.
Shopman: Then you will decide on the red, madam?
Vera: Yes-yes, I shan't do any better, shall I, dear? What do you think? 
You haven't got any other shades of red,
have you? This is such an ugly red.
Shopman: But, madam, you have seen all the other reds, and this is the 
particular shade you selected and admired.
Vera: Oh, very well, I must take that, then, I suppose. I can't be worried 
about it any longer. I've wasted half the morning already. (She is about to go out.) Oh dear, what shall I do ?
Helen: What is the matter?
Vera: Would you believe it, I can think of no less than three reasons why I 
should not have chosen red, and four in
favour of grey. Do you think they will change it if I ask to see the 
manager?
Helen (hungry and tired): No, I don't think they will. We really must go.
Vera: That is what I hate about shopping. One never has time to think. I 
will never come to this shop again.
-Dramatised from "Second thoughts of an  Idle Fellow," by JEROME K. JEROME.


