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- We change places. Or—really—bodies. You look like me. I look like you.
- THEY ARE TALKING ABOUT MRS. PEARSON.MRS.FITZGERALD SAYS SHE SHOULD BE A LITTLE STRICT AND ASK THIER FAMLY MEMBERS TO THIER OWN WORK
- Mrs Fitzgerald is at left and Mrs. Pearson is at right. Mrs. Fitzgerald is a fortune teller and she lives next door. She is older, heaveir and have a strong and sinister personality and her voice is deep rather irish perhps. Mrs. pearson on the other hand is speaking in a light,furried sort of tone,with a touch of suburban cockney perhaps
- It’s your only chance. Give me your handsan’ keep quiet a minute. Just don’t thinkabout anything. [Taking her hands] Now lookat me. [They stare at each other. Muttering]Arshtatta dum—arshtatta lam—arshtattalamdumbona...
- Well—I don’t know—is it right?
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- Mother's DayBy:J.B. Priestly
- NOW THEIR PERSONALITIES HAS CHANGED AND NOW MRS.FITZGERALD IS MRS.PEARSON AND VICE VERSA
- Yes—I suppose that’sbest. You’re sure it’ll be all right?
- now before one of ’em comes. doing. You ought to enjoy it. Better get offthere—then pop back and see how we’reGo into my house for a bit—there’s nobody
- Doris enters and demands her to iron her dress which mrs. pearson denies and tells her to do her own work from today onwards which makes her sad and she rans upstairs to her room crying.
- Mum—you’ll have to iron my yellow silk. I mustwear it tonight. [She now sees what ishappening, and is astounded.] What are youdoing? [She moves down left centre.]
- What d’you think I’mdoing—whitewashing the ceiling?I am smoking.No law against it, is there?and do it yourself.
- what’s this? Can’t be anything to cryabout.
- LIKE DORIS HER BROTHER ALSO DEMANDS MRS.PEARSON BUT SHE DECLINES . THEY ARGUE BUT MRS. PEARSON WINS THE ARGUEMENT ANS HE LEAVES .George Pearson enters left. He is about fifty, fundamentally decent but solemn, self-important, pompous. Preferably he should be aheavy, slow-moving type.
- What did she mean?
- Better ask her.
- YOU WILL SEE
- George looks slowly again at the door then at Mrs Pearson. Then he notices the stout that Mrs Pearson raises for another sip. His eyes almost bulge
- Stout? What are you drinking stout for?
- It’ll be wonderful. Now off yougo, dear.
- YES Because I fancied some
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