Ye'd think he owned the sky, because his fathers built him a house with a pretty view, where he's nothing to do but live. It's sheer want of something to do that gives ye your fine sentiments, Hillcrist. Have the goodness not to charge me with idleness. Dawker—where is he? Gospel true. If ye want to know, my son Chearlie is buyin' it this very minute.
Ay, he's with the old lady she wants to sell, an' she'll get her price, whatever it is. Hornblower, I don't know what is. Ye've got a very nice expression there. If it wasn't for a lady's presence, I could give ye a specimen or two. Well, and I don't know that it need. Ye're an obstruction—the like of you—ye're in my path. And anyone in my path doesn't stay there long; or, if he does, he stays there on my terms. And my terms are chimneys in the Centry where I need 'em.
It'll do ye a power of good, too, to know that ye're not almighty. And how have ye tried bein' neighbourly to me? If I haven't a wife, I've got a daughter-in-law. Have Ye celled on her, ma'am? I'm new, and ye're an old family. Ye don't like me, ye think I'm a pushin' man. I go to chapel, an' ye don't like that. I make things and I sell them, and ye don't like that. I buy land, and ye don't like that. It threatens the view from your windies.
Well, I don't lie you, and I'm not goin' to put up with your attitude. Ye've had things your own way too long, and now ye're not going to have them any longer.
I'm goin' to have the cottages. I need them, and more besides, now I'm to put up me new works. Ye never said a truer word. It's one or the other of us, and I rather think it's goin' to be me. I'm the risin' and you're the settin' sun, as the poet says. We used to have decent ways of going about things here. You want to change all that. Well, we shall do our damnedest to stop you.
Ask them to be good enough to come in. I've nothing more to say to them. I told 'em I'd give 'em five pounds to cover their moving. It doesn't occur to you that people, however humble, like to have some say in their own fate?
I never had any say in mine till I had the brass, and nobody ever will. It's all hypocrisy. You county folk are fair awful hypocrites. Ye talk about good form and all that sort o' thing.
It's just the comfortable doctrine of the man in the saddle; sentimental varnish. Ye're every bit as hard as I am, underneath. Not at all. God helps those who 'elp themselves— that's at the bottom of all religion. I'm goin' to help meself, and God's going to help me. I'm very sorry, Mrs. Jackman, but I just wanted you to realise that I've done my best with this gentleman.
I thought if you spoke for us, he'd feel different-like. One cottage is the same as another, missis. I made ye a fair offer of five pounds for the moving. We brought up three children there, an' buried two from it.
Not a bit. But little considerations have to give way to big ones. Now, missis, I'll make it ten pounds, and I'll send a wagon to shift your things. If that isn't fair—! Ye'd better accept, I shan't keep it open. Don't lecture them, Mr. Hornblower; they come out of this miles above you. Don't put temptation in my way, that's all. That's your protegee! Keep out o' my way, me man, or I'll put the police on to ye for utterin' threats. We-ell, I'm sorry they're such unreasonable folk. I never met people with less notion of which side their bread was buttered.
What's that, in Heaven's name? Ye needn' wrap it up in long words now your good lady's gone. I resent your conduct much too deeply. Look here, Hillcrist, I don't object to you personally; ye seem to me a poor creature that's bound to get left with your gout and your dignity; but of course ye can make yourself very disagreeable before ye're done.
Now I want to be the movin' spirit here. I'm full of plans. I'm goin' to stand for Parliament; I'm goin' to make this a prosperous place. I'm a good-matured man if you'll treat me as such. Now, you take me on as a neighbour and all that, and I'll manage without chimneys on the Centry. Is it a bargain? Now, don't get on the high horse. You and me could be very good friends; but I can be a very nasty enemy. The chimneys will not look nice from that windie, ye know. Hornblower, if you think I'll take your hand after this Jackman business, you're greatly mistaken.
You are proposing that I shall stand in with you while you tyrannise over the neighbourhood. Please realise that unless you leave those tenancies undisturbed as you said you would, we don't know each other. Well, that won't trouble me much. Now, ye'd better think it over; ye've got gout and that makes ye hasty. I tell ye again: I'm not the man to make an enemy of. Unless ye're friendly, sure as I stand here I'll ruin the look of your place.
There's my car. I sent Chearlie and his wife in it to buy the Centry. And make no mistake—he's got it in his packet. It's your last chance, Hillcrist. I'm not averse to you as a man; I think ye're the best of the fossils round here; at least, I think ye can do me the most harm socially.
Come now! Not if you'd bought the Centry ten times over. Your ways are not mine, and I'll have nothing to do with you. Is that so? Very well. Now ye're goin' to learn something, an' it's time ye did. D'ye realise that I'm 'very nearly round ye? Now between you and the Common there's the high road. I come out on the high road here to your north, and I shall come out on it there to your west.
When I've got me new works up on the Centry, I shall be makin' a trolley track between the works up to the road at both ends, so any goods will be running right round ye. How'll ye like that for a country place? CHARLES is a goodish-looking, moustached young man of about twenty-eight, with a white rim to the collar of his waistcoat, and spats. She is rather a handsome young woman, with dark eyes, full red lips, and a suspicion of powder, a little under-dressed for the country.
ROLF, mho brings up the rear, is about twenty, with an open face and stiffish butter-coloured hair. JILL runs over to her father at the window. She has a bottle. Isn't it a treat, dear Papa? And here's the stuff. JILL, stays close to him, staring from one to the other, then blocks him off and engages him in conversation.
I'd practically got her to say she'd sell at three thousand five hundred, when that fellow Dawker turned up. That bull-terrier of a chap! Why, he was here a while ago. So that's it! I heard him gallop up. He came straight for the old lady, and got her away. What he said I don't know; but she came back looking wiser than an owl; said she'd think it over, thought she had other views.
She thought it would be fairer to put it up to auction. There were other enquiries. She's a leery old bird—reminds me of one of those pictures of Fate, don't you know. Well, if it's not gone we'll get it yet.
That damned little Dawker! I've had a row with Hillcrist. They don't matter a row of gingerbread to the schemes I've got for betterin' this neighbourhood. I won't say anything about the other thing because I think it's beneath, dignity to notice it. But to turn poor people out of their cottages is a shame. Here's a league o' Youth! My young whipper-snapper, keep your mouth shut and leave it to your elders to know what's right. Then he throws his head up. Ye're right, young lady.
Ye can stay in my house, Rolf, and learn manners. Come, Chearlie! Life's too short for rows, and too jolly!
I will not have revolt in my family. Ye'll just have to learn that a man who's worked as I have, who's risen as I have, and who knows the world, is the proper judge of what's right and wrong. I'll answer to God for me actions, and not to you young people. Deeds, not words. So ye put your dog on to it. Come on! ROLF hurries after them.
I apologise. I regret extremely. There is no reason why the ladies of your family or of mine should be involved in our quarrel. For Heaven's sake, let's fight like gentlemen. No; we'll play what ye call a skin game, Hillcrist, without gloves on; we won't spare each other. Ye look out for yourselves, for, begod, after this morning I mean business. And as for you, Dawker, ye sly dog, ye think yourself very clever; but I'll have the Centry yet. The old lady'll put it up to auction.
Couldn't get her to budge from that. Says she don't want to be unneighbourly to either. But, if you ask me, it's money she smells! My dear Jill, allow me to judge the sort of acquaintances I wish to make. She's all right. Lots of women powder and touch up their lips nowadays. I think she's rather a good sort; she was awfully upset. It's no good, Dodo. It made me ashamed. It's just as—as caddish to insult people who haven't said a word, in your own house, as it is to be—old Hornblower.
It's something Dawker's told her; I saw them. I don't like Dawker, father, he's so common. My dear, we can't all be uncommon. He's got lots of go, You must apologise to your mother. Mother's fearfully bitter when she gets her knife in. If old Hornblower's disgusting, it's no reason we should be.
No, no, darling! I only want to warn you solemnly that mother'll tell you you're fighting fair, no matter what she and Dawker do. Because—[She swallows a lump in her throat] Well—I was just beginning to enjoy, myself; and now—everything's going to be bitter and beastly, with mother in that mood.
That horrible old man! Oh, Dodo! Don't let them make you horrid! You're such a darling. How's your gout, ducky? There, you see! That shows! It's going to be half-interesting for you, but not for—us. Look here, Jill—is there anything between you and young what's-his-name—Rolf?
I don't mean any tosh about love's young dream; but I do like being friends. I want to enjoy things, Dodo, and you can't do that when everybody's on the hate.
You're going to wallow in it, and so shall I—oh! I know I shall! Well, you won't be able to live in it unless we stop that ruffian. Chimneys and smoke, the trees cut down, piles of pots. Every kind of abomination. They loved those fields, and those old trees. And this barbarian, with his "improvement" schemes, forsooth! I learned to ride in the Centry meadows—prettiest spring meadows in the world; I've climbed every tree there.
Why my father ever sold——! But who could have imagined this? And come at a bad moment, when money's scarce. But you don't love the place as I do, Jill. You youngsters don't love anything, I sometimes think. You've got it all before you. But you may live your life and never find anything so good and so beautiful as this old home. I'm not going to have it spoiled without a fight.
JILL following to the window, looks. Then throwing back her head, she clasps her hands behind it. ROLF appears outside the window from Left. None, in a way; only, I've often told you I don't see why you should treat us as outsiders. We don't like it. Father's just as human as your father; he's wrapped up in us, and all his "getting on" is for us. Would you like to be treated as your mother treated Chloe? Your mother's set the stroke for the other big-wigs about here; nobody calls on Chloe.
And why not? Why not? I think it's contemptible to bar people just because they're new, as you call it, and have to make their position instead of having it left them. It's not because they're new, it's because—if your father behaved like a gentleman, he'd be treated like one. Would he?
I don't believe it. My father's a very able man; he thinks he's entitled to have influence here. Well, everybody tries to keep him down. That makes him mad and more determined than ever to get his way. You ought to be just, Jill. No, you're not. Besides, what's it got to do with Charlie and Chloe? Chloe's particularly harmless. It's pretty sickening for her. Father didn't expect people to call until Charlie married, but since——.
I'm not going to argue. Only things don't stand still. Homes aren't any more proof against change than anything else. A billiard room in a provincial hotel, where things are bought and sold. The scene is set well forward, and is not very broad; it represents the auctioneer's end of the room, having, rather to stage Left, a narrow table with two chairs facing the audience, where the auctioneer will sit and stand.
The table, which is set forward to the footlights, is littered with green-covered particulars of sale. The audience are in effect public and bidders. There is a door on the Left, level with the table. Along the back wall, behind the table, are two raised benches with two steps up to them, such as billiard rooms often have, divided by a door in the middle of a wall, which is panelled in oak. Late September sunlight is coming from a skylight not visible on to these seats.
They won't be over-punctual; there's only the Centry selling. There's young Mrs. Hornblower with the other boy— [Pointing] over at the entrance. I've got that chap I told you of down from town. Lot of peopled—always spare time to watch an auction—ever remark that? The Duke's agent's here; shouldn't be surprised if he chipped in. With Miss Jill, in the courtyard.
He's coming to you. In case I miss him; tell him when I reach his limit to blow his nose if he wants me to go on; when he blows it a second time, I'll stop for good. Hope we shan't get to that. Old Hornblower doesn't throw his money away. Good luck, ma'am. I'll go and see to that little matter of Mrs. Never fear, we'll do them is somehow. She makes a sign for him to go, and shuts the door.
I'm not aware that I've acted at all—as yet. You are nothing to me, except as one of your family. I suppose such men don't pay attention to what women ask them. Shall I get you some water? She needn't have come, I suppose? A wagon of old Hornblower's pots passed while we were in the yard. It's an omen. I can't go beyond the six thousand; I shall have to raise every penny on mortgage as it is. The estate simply won't stand more, Amy. There's Miss Mullins, at the back; just come in.
Isn't she a spidery old chip? Come to gloat. Really, I think her not accepting your offer is disgusting. Her impartiality is all humbug. Can't blame her for getting what she can—it's human nature. I used to feel like this before a 'viva voce'.
Who's that next to Dawker? Jack, go and offer her my smelling salts. Sorry, Dodo. I was only thinking. Here he is! He is a square, short, brown-faced, common looking man, with clipped grey hair fitting him like a cap, and a clipped grey moustache. His lids come down over his quick eyes, till he can see you very sharply, and you can hardly see that he can see you. He can break into a smile at any moment, which has no connection with him, as it were.
By a certain hurt look, however, when bidding is slow, he discloses that he is not merely an auctioneer, but has in him elements of the human being. He can wink with anyone, and is dressed in a snug-brown suit, with a perfectly unbuttoned waistcoat, a low, turned down collar, and small black and white sailor knot tie.
CHLOE has drunk her water and leaned back again, with the smelling salts to her nose. The second on the particulars has been withdrawn. The third that's Bidcot, desirable freehold mansion and farmlands in the Parish of Kenway—we shall have to deal with next week. I shall be happy to sell it you then with out reservation. Freehold No. Now you won't mind listening to the conditions of sale; Mr.
Blinkard'll read 'em, and they won't wirry you, they're very short. What's that? I know the village well, and a charming place it is; perfect locality, to be sure. Now I don't want to wirry you by singing the praises of this property; there it is—well-watered, nicely timbered—no reservation of the timber, gen'lemen—no tenancy to hold you up; free to do what you like with it to-morrow.
You've got a jewel of a site there, too; perfect position for a house. It lies between the Duke's and Squire Hillcrist's—an emerald isle. Nothing like it in the county—a gen'leman's site, and you don't get that offered you every day.
What am I to start it at? Can I say three thousand? Well, anything you like to give me. I'm sot particular. Come now, you've got more time than me, I expect. Two hundred acres of first-rate grazin' and cornland, with a site for a residence unequalled in the county; and all the possibilities!
Well, what shall I say? Two thousand? Why, it's worth that to overlook the Duke. For two thousand? And five. Three thousand bid for this desirable property. Why, you'd think it wasn't desirable. Come along, gen'lemen. A little spirit. For three thousand. May I say—four? Three thousand six hundred bid. Three thousand seven hundred, and——. Come, gen'lemen, don't keep me all day. Four thousand may I say? We're beginning. And one? May I have yours, sir?
Four thousand three hundred bid. No such site in the county, gen'lemen. I'm going to sell this land for what it's worth. You can't bid too much for me. Nine, may I say? Five thousand bid. That's better; there's some spirit in it. For five thousand. Now, gen'lemen, I'm not going to give this property away.
Five thousand three hundred bid. And five, did you say, sir? May I say five thousand six hundred, sir? For five thousand eight hundred pounds. We're gettin' on, but we haven't got the value yet. CHLOE has never moved. Five thousand eight hundred bid. For five thousand eight hundred. Come along, gen'lemen, come along.
We're not beaten. Thank you, sir. Six thousand bid. For six thousand! The Centry—most desirable spot in the county—going for the low price of six thousand. Any advance on six thousand? Come, gen'lemen, we haven't dried up? Six thousand? For six thousand? For six thousand pounds? Very well, I'm selling. More Details Original Title. Other Editions Friend Reviews. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about The Skin Game , please sign up.
Lists with This Book. Community Reviews. Showing Average rating 3. Rating details. More filters. Sort order. Start your review of The Skin Game. Feb 15, Lisa N rated it really liked it. Three-act play by author of Forsythe Saga. Set in rural England just after WWI. And the only thing is to have rules of the game and keep them. Jun 13, Dr. The Skin Game, by John Galsworthy. About the new wealth of trade and industry, encroaching on old landed gentry, but About the new wealth of trade and industry, encroaching on old landed gentry, but without the breeding or bringing up to understand the noblesse oblige creed of looking after the tenants, or of carrying out promises.
And as they blunder on, goading the neighbourhood beyond endurance, they forget others can play those games too, only, they've not done so for a while. I'd forgotten their existence. What blinding evil! Begin as you may, it ends in this —skin game! Skin game! It is me. For I am, or should be, master in this house!
I don't understand. When we began this fight, we had clean hands—are they clean' now? What's gentility worth if it can't stand fire?
Nov 03, Kathie rated it liked it. This review has been hidden because it contains spoilers. To view it, click here. This short three act play takes place just after World War I. The Hillcrists live on an estate that has been in the family for many years. They live comfortably but their financial situation is a little strained at this time.
Hornblower is a newly rich industrialist with an abrasive personality. The play begins with the Hillcrists asking Mr. Hornblower to live up to his promise to allow their tenants to stay in the homes on the property the Hillcrists had just sold to Hornblower.
Hornblower This short three act play takes place just after World War I. Hornblower refuses and becomes threatening stating that he is negotiating for the only remaining property in the neighborhood. He soon will own all the land surrounding the Hillcrists and plans to put in factories, run rail lines, etc. The family who owns the property refuses to sell to Hornblower and allows it to be auctioned. Hillcrist bids way beyond what he can afford but Hornblower wins out and gloats about it.
Dramatized by volunteer readers. A small play in three acts. A kind of comic tragedy. The plot tells the story of the interaction between two very different families in rural England just after the end of the First World War.
Squire Hillcrist lives in the manor house where his family has lived for generations. He has a daughter, Jill, who is in her late teens; and a wife, Amy, as well as servants and retainers. He is "old money", although his finances are at a bit of low ebb. The other family is the "nouveau riche" Hornblowers, headed by the single-minded and rich industrialist Hornblower, who throws old retainers the Jackmans out of their home much to the Squire's disgust , and who plans to surround the Hillcrist's rural estate with factories.
Summary by catrose and Wikipedia For further information, including links to online text, reader information, RSS feeds, CD cover or other formats if available , please go to the LibriVox catalog page for this recording. For more free audio books or to become a volunteer reader, visit LibriVox.
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