Counting MR. and
MRS. HUBBARD, we realize that there are eleven HUBBARDS in all, and
you would think that one at least of the two people we see in the room
would be a HUBBARD of sorts. But no. The tall manly figure is JAMES,
the HUBBARDS' butler, for the HUBBARDS are able to afford a butler
now. How different from the time when Old Mother Hubbard--called "old"
because she was at least twenty-two, and "mother" because she had a
passion for children--could not even find a bone for her faithful
terrier; but, of course, that was before HENRY went into work. Well,
the tall figure is JAMES, the butler, and the little one is ROSEMARY,
a friend of the HUBBARD FAMILY. ROSEMARY is going in for literature
this afternoon, as it's raining, and JAMES is making her quite
comfortable first with pens and ink and blotting-paper--always so
important when one wants to write. He has even thought of a stick of
violet sealing-wax; after that there can be no excuse.
ROSEMARY. Thank you, James. (She sits down.) If any one calls I am not
at home.
JAMES. Yes, Miss.
ROSEMARY. You may add that I am engaged in writing my
auto--autobiography.
JAMES. Yes, Miss.
ROSEMARY. It's what every one writes, isn't it, James?
JAMES.
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