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Mrs. Antrobus, the matriarch of the Antrobus family, scolds Sabina,
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MRS. ANTROBUS: Sabina, you’ve let the fire go out.
SABINA: (in a lather) One-thing-and-another; don’t-know-whether-my-wits-are-upside-or-down; might-as-well-be-dead-as-alive-in-a-house-all-sixes-and-sevens. . .
MRS. ANTROBUS: You’ve let the fire go out. Here it is the coldest day of the year right in the middle of August, and you’ve let the fire go out.
[... … …]
MRS. ANTROBUS: And you didn’t last - you sank to the kitchen. And what did you do there? YOU LET THE FIRE GO OUT! No wonder you think it’s easier being dead. Reading, and writing, and counting on your fingers is all very well in their way - but I keep the home going. There’s that dinosaur on the front lawn again. - Shoo! Go away. Go away.
Widler, Thornton, The Skin of Our Teeth, 1942, Concord Theatricals, pp. 4-6.
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