Read Ebook: Anna Christie by O Neill Eugene

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Ebook has 784 lines and 20475 words, and 16 pages

CHRIS--You don't know good song when you hear him. Italian fallar on oder barge, he learn me dat. Give us drink.

LARRY-- What's your pleasure, gentlemen?

JOHNNY--Small beer, Larry.

CHRIS--Vhiskey--Number Two.

LARRY-- I'll take a cigar on you.

CHRIS-- Skoal!

JOHNNY--Drink hearty.

CHRIS-- Have oder drink.

JOHNNY--No. Some other time. Got to go home now. So you've just landed? Where are you in from this time?

CHRIS--Norfolk. Ve make slow voyage--dirty vedder--yust fog, fog, fog, all bloody time! Ay go open, Larry. Ay forgat. It vas Marthy. She come with me.

LARRY-- He's still got that same cow livin' with him, the old fool!

JOHNNY-- A sport, Chris is. Well, I'll beat it home. S'long.

LARRY--So long, boss.

JOHNNY--Oh--don't forget to give him his letter.

LARRY--I won't.

MARTHY-- What yuh tryin' to do, Dutchy--keep me standin' out there all day?

CHRIS-- Ay'm sorry, Marthy. Ay talk to Yohnny. Ay forgat. What you goin' take for drink?

MARTHY-- Gimme a scoop of lager an' ale.

CHRIS--Ay go bring him back. Lager and ale for Marthy, Larry. Vhiskey for me.

LARRY--Right you are. Here's a letter for you--from St. Paul, Minnesota--and a lady's writin'.

CHRIS-- Oh, den it come from my daughter, Anna. She live dere. Ay don't gat letter from Anna--must be a year.

LARRY-- That's a fine fairy tale to be tellin'--your daughter! Sure I'll bet it's some bum.

MARTHY-- Where's my lager an' ale, yuh big stiff?

CHRIS-- Larry bring him.

LARRY--Good news?

MARTHY-- What's that yuh got--a letter, fur Gawd's sake?

CHRIS-- Py yiminy! Yust tank, Anna say she's comin' here right avay! She gat sick on yob in St. Paul, she say. It's short letter, don't tal me much more'n dat. Py golly, dat's good news all at one time for ole fallar! You know, Marthy, Ay've tole you Ay don't see my Anna since she vas little gel in Sveden five year ole.

MARTHY--How old'll she be now?

CHRIS--She must be--lat me see--she must be twenty year ole, py Yo!

LARRY-- You've not seen her in fifteen years?

CHRIS-- No. Ven she vas little gel, Ay vas bo'sun on vindjammer. Ay never gat home only few time dem year. Ay'm fool sailor fallar. My voman--Anna's mother--she gat tired vait all time Sveden for me ven Ay don't never come. She come dis country, bring Anna, dey go out Minnesota, live with her cousins on farm. Den ven her mo'der die ven Ay vas on voyage, Ay tank it's better dem cousins keep Anna. Ay tank it's better Anna live on farm, den she don't know dat ole davil, sea, she don't know fader like me.

LARRY-- This girl, now, 'll be marryin' a sailor herself, likely. It's in the blood.

CHRIS-- No, py God! She don't do dat!

MARTHY-- Hey, look out, yuh nut! Wanta spill my suds for me?

LARRY-- Oho, what's up with you? Ain't you a sailor yourself now, and always been?

CHRIS-- Dat's yust vhy Ay say it. Sailor vas all right fallar, but not for marry gel. No. Ay know dat. Anna's mo'der, she know it, too.

LARRY-- When is your daughter comin'? Soon?

CHRIS-- Py yiminy, Ay forgat. She say she come right avay, dat's all.

LARRY--She'll maybe be comin' here to look for you, I s'pose.

CHRIS--Ay gat speak with Larry. Ay be right back. Ay bring you oder drink.

MARTHY-- Sure. That's me.

CHRIS-- Py yingo, Ay gat gat Marthy shore off barge before Anna come! Anna raise hell if she find dat out. Marthy raise hell, too, for go, py golly!

LARRY-- Serve ye right, ye old divil--havin' a woman at your age!

CHRIS-- You tal me lie for tal Marthy, Larry, so's she gat off barge quick.

LARRY--She knows your daughter's comin'. Tell her to get the hell out of it.

CHRIS--No. Ay don't like make her feel bad.

LARRY--You're an old mush! Keep your girl away from the barge, then. She'll likely want to stay ashore anyway. What does she work at, your Anna?

CHRIS--She stay on dem cousins' farm 'till two year ago. Dan she gat yob nurse gel in St. Paul. But Ay don't vant for her gat yob now. Ay vant for her stay with me.

LARRY-- On a coal barge! She'll not like that, I'm thinkin'.

MARTHY-- Don't I get that bucket o' suds, Dutchy?

CHRIS-- Yes, Ay come, Marthy.

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