Mrs. Bradley. Wait a moment. We must take the bric-a-brac from the
top of it before you touch it. If there are two incompatible things
in this world, they are men and bric-a-brac.
Mrs. Perkins. You are _so_ thoughtful, though I am sure that Mr.
Yardsley would not break anything willingly.
Barlow. Nothing but the ten commandments.
Yardsley. They aren't bric-a-brac; and I thank you, Mrs. Perkins,
for your expression of confidence. I wouldn't intentionally go into
the house of another man and toss his Sevres up in the air, or throw
his Royal Worcester down-stairs, except under very great provocation.
(Mrs. Perkins and Mrs. Bradley have by this time removed the bric-a-
brac from the piano--an upright.) Now, boys, are you ready?
Bradley. Where is it to be moved to?
Yardsley. Where would you prefer to have it, Mrs. Perkins?
Mrs. Perkins. Oh, I have no preference in the matter. Put it where
you please.
Yardsley. Suppose you carry it up into the attic, Barlow.
Barlow. Certainly. I'll be glad to if you'll carry the soft pedal.
I'm always afraid when I'm carrying pianos up-stairs of breaking the
soft pedal or dropping a few octaves.
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