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diff --git a/11759.txt b/11759.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa59cca --- /dev/null +++ b/11759.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4380 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Bicyclers and Three Other Farces, by John +Kendrick Bangs + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Bicyclers and Three Other Farces + +Author: John Kendrick Bangs + +Release Date: March 30, 2004 [eBook #11759] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: US-ASCII + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BICYCLERS AND THREE OTHER FARCES*** + + +Transcribed by David Price, email ccx074@coventry.ac.uk + + + + +THE BICYCLERS AND THREE OTHER FARCES + + + + +Contents: + The Bicyclers + A Dramatic Evening + The Fatal Message + A Proposal Under Difficulties + + + +THE BICYCLERS + + + +CHARACTERS: + +MR. ROBERT YARDSLEY, an expert. +MR. JACK BARLOW, another. +MR. THADDEUS PERKINS, a beginner. +MR. EDWARD BRADLEY, a scoffer. +MRS. THADDEUS PERKINS, a resistant. +MRS. EDWARD BRADLEY, an enthusiast. +JENNIE, a maid. + +The scene is laid in the drawing-room of Mr. and Mrs. Thaddeus +Perkins, at No. --- Gramercy Square. It is late October; the action +begins at 8.30 o'clock on a moonlight evening. The curtain rising +discloses Mr. and Mrs. Perkins sitting together. At right is large +window facing on square. At rear is entrance to drawing-room. +Leaning against doorway is a safety bicycle. Perkins is clad in +bicycle garb. + +Perkins. Well, Bess, I'm in for it now, and no mistake. Bob and +Jack are coming to-night to give me my first lesson in biking. + +Mrs. Perkins. I'm very glad of it, Thaddeus. I think it will do you +a world of good. You've been working too hard of late, and you need +relaxation. + +Perkins (doubtfully). I know that--but--from what I can gather, +learning to ride a wheel isn't the most restful thing in the world. +There's a good deal of lying down about it; but it comes with too +great suddenness; that is, so Charlie Cheeseborough says. He learned +up at the Academy, and he told me that he spent most of his time +making dents in the floor with his head. + +Mrs. Perkins. Well, I heard differently. Emma Bradley learned there +at the same time he did, and she said he spent most of his time +making dents in the floor with other people's heads. Why, really, he +drove all the ladies to wearing those odious Psyche knots. The time +he ran into Emma, if she hadn't worn her back hair that way she'd +have fractured her skull. + +Perkins. Ha, ha! They all tell the same story. Barlow said he +always wore a beaver hat while Cheeseborough was on the floor, so +that if Charlie ran into him and he took a header his brain wouldn't +suffer. + +Mrs. Perkins. Nevertheless, Mr. Cheeseborough learned more quickly +than any one else in the class. + +Perkins. So Barlow said--because he wasn't eternally in his own way, +as he was in every one else's. (A ring is heard at the front door.) +Ah! I guess that's Bob and Jack. + +Enter Jennie. + +Jennie. Mr. Bradley, ma'am. + +Perkins. Bradley? Wonder what the deuce he's come for? He'll guy +the life out of me. (Enter Bradley. He wears a dinner coat.) Ah, +Brad, old chap, how are you? Glad to see you. + +Bradley. Good-evening, Mrs. Perkins. This your eldest? [With a nod +at Perkins. + +Mrs. Perkins. My eldest? + +Bradley. Yes--judged from his togs it was your boy. What! Can it +be? You! Thaddeus? + +Perkins. That's who I am. + +Bradley. When did you go into short trousers? + +Perkins (with a feeble laugh, glancing at his clothes). Oh, these-- +ha, ha! I'm taking up the bicycle. Even if it weren't for the +exhilaration of riding, it's a luxury to wear these clothes. Old +flannel shirt, old coat, old pair of trousers shortened to the knee, +and golf stockings. I've had these golf stockings two years, and +never had a chance to wear 'em till now. + +Bradley. You've got it bad, haven't you? How many lessons have you +had? + +Perkins. None yet. Fact is, just got my wheel--that's it over there +by the door--pneumatic tires, tool-chest, cyclometer, lamp--all for a +hun. + +Bradley (with a laugh). How about life-insurance? Do they throw in +a policy for that? They ought to. + +Perkins. No--but they would if I'd insisted. Competition between +makers is so great, they'll give you most anything to induce a +bargain. The only thing they really gave me extra is the ki-yi gun. + +Mrs. Perkins. The what? + +Perkins. Ki-yi gun--it shoots dogs. Dog comes out, catches sight of +your leg-- + +Bradley. Mistakes it for a bone and grabs--eh? + +Perkins. Well--I fancy that's about the size of it. You can't very +well get off, so you get out your ki-yi gun and shoot ammonia into +the beast's face. It doesn't hurt the dog, but it gives him +something to think of. I'll show you how the thing works. (Gets the +gun from tool-box.) This is the deadly weapon, and I'm the rider-- +see? (Sits on a chair, with face to back, and works imaginary +pedals.) You're the dog. I'm passing the farm-yard. Bow-wow! out +you spring--grab me by the bone--I--ah--I mean the leg. Pouf! I +shoot you with ammonia. [Suits action to the word. + +Bradley (starting back). Hi, hold on! Don't squirt that infernal +stuff at me! My dear boy, get a grip on yourself. I'm not really a +ki-yi, and while I don't like bicyclists, their bones are safe from +me. I won't bite you. + +Mrs. Perkins. Really--I think that's a very ingenious arrangement; +don't you, Mr. Bradley? + +Bradley. I do, indeed. But, as long as we're talking about it, I +must say I think what Thaddeus really needs is a motormangun, to +squirt ammonia, or even beer, into the faces of these cable-car +fellows. They're more likely to interfere with him than dogs--don't +you think? + +Perkins. It's a first-rate idea, Brad. I'll suggest it to my agent. + +Bradley. Your what? + +Perkins (apologetically). Well, I call him my agent, although really +I've only bought this one wheel from him. He represents the Czar +Manufacturing Company. + +Bradley. They make Czars, do they? + +Perkins (with dignity). They make wheels. The man who owns the +company is named Czar. I refer to him as my agent, because from the +moment he learned I thought of buying a wheel he came and lived with +me. I couldn't get rid of him, and finally in self-defence I bought +this wheel. It was the only way I could get rid of him. + +Bradley. Aha! That's the milk in the cocoanut. eh? Hadn't force of +mind to get rid of the agent. Couldn't say no. Humph! I wondered +why you, a man of sense, a man of dignity, a gentleman, should take +up with this-- + +Perkins (angrily). See here, Brad, I like you very much, but I must +say-- + +Mrs. Perkins (foreseeing a quarrel). Thaddeus! 'Sh! Ah, by-the- +way, Mr. Bradley, where is Emma this evening? I never knew you to be +separated before. + +Bradley (sorrowfully). This is the first time, Mrs. Perkins. Fact +is, we'd intended calling on you to-night, and I dressed as you see +me. Emma was in proper garb too, but when she saw what a beautiful +night it was, she told me to go ahead, and she--By Jove! it almost +makes me weep! + +Perkins. She wasn't taken ill? + +Bradley. No--worse. She said: "You go down on the ' L.' I'll +bike. It's such a splendid night." Fine piece of business this! To +have a bicycle come between man and wife is a pretty hard fate, I +think--for the one who doesn't ride. + +Mrs. Perkins. Then Emma is coming here? + +Bradley. That's the idea, on her wheel--coming down the Boulevard, +across Seventy-second Street, through the Park, down Madison, across +Twenty-third, down Fourth to Twenty-first, then here. + +Perkins. Bully ride that. + +Mrs. Perkins. Alone? + +Bradley (sadly). I hope so--but these bicyclists have a way of +flocking together. For all I know, my beloved Emma may now be +coasting down Murray Hill escorted by some bicycle club from Jersey +City. + +Mrs. Perkins. Oh dear--Mr. Bradley! + +Bradley. Oh, it's all right, I assure you, Mrs. Perkins. Perfectly +right and proper. It's merely part of the exercise, don't you know. +There's a hail-fellow-well-metness about enthusiastic bicyclists, and +Emma is intensely enthusiastic. It gives her a chance, you know, and +Emma has always wanted a chance. Independence is a thing she's been +after ever since she got her freedom, and now, thanks to the wheel, +she's got it again, and even I must admit it's harmless. Funny she +doesn't get here though (looking at his watch); she's had time to +come down twice. + +[Bicycle bells are heard ringing without. + +Mrs. Perkins. Maybe that is she now. Go and see, will you, +Thaddeus? [Exit Perkins. + +Perkins (without), That you, Mrs. Bradley? + +[Mrs. Perkins and Bradley listen intently. + +Two Male Voices. No; it's us, Perk. Got your wheel? + +Bradley and Mrs. Perkins. Where can she be? + +Enter Perkins with Barlow and Yardsley. + +They both greet Mrs. Perkins. + +Yardsley. Hullo, Brad! You going to have a lesson too? + +Barlow. Dressed for it, aren't you, by Jove! Nothing like a dinner +coat for a bicycle ride. Your coat-tails don't catch in the gear. + +Bradley (severely). I haven't taken it up--fact is, I don't care for +fads. Have you seen my wife? + +Yardsley. Yes--saw her the other night at the academy. Rides mighty +well, too, Brad. Don't wonder you don't take it up. Contrast, you +know--eh, Perk? Fearful thing for a man to have the world see how +much smarter his wife is than he is. + +Perkins (turning to his wheel). Bradley's a little worried about the +non-arrival of Mrs. Bradley. She was coming here on her wheel, and +started about the same time he did. + +Barlow. Oh, that's all right, Ned. She knows her wheel as well as +you know your business. Can't come down quite as fast as the "L," +particularly these nights just before election. She may have fallen +in with some political parade, and is waiting to get across the +street. + +Bradley (aside). Well, I like that! + +Mrs. Perkins (aside). Why--it's awful! + +Yardsley. Or she may possibly have punctured her tire--that would +delay her fifteen or twenty minutes. Don't worry, my dear boy. I +showed her how to fix a punctured tire all right. It's simple +enough--you take the rubber thing they give you and fasten it in that +metal thingumbob, glue it up, poke it in, pull it out, pump her up, +and there you are. + +Bradley (scornfully). You told her that, did you? + +Yardsley. I did. + +Bradley (with a mock sigh of relief). You don't know what a load +you've taken off my mind. + +Barlow (looking at his watch). H'm! Thaddeus, it's nine o'clock. I +move we go out and have the lesson. Eh? The moon is just right. + +Yardsley. Yes--we can't begin too soon. Wheel all right? + +Perkins. Guess so--I'm ready. + +Bradley. I'll go out to the corner and see if there's any sign of +Mrs. Bradley. [Exit. + +Mrs. Perkins (who has been gazing out of window for some moments). I +do wish Emma would come. I can't understand how women can do these +things. Riding down here all alone at night! It is perfectly +ridiculous! + +Yardsley (rolling Perkins's wheel into middle of room). Czar wheel, +eh? + +Perkins (meekly). Yes--best going--they tell me. + +Barlow. Can't compare with the Alberta. Has a way of going to +pieces like the "one-hoss shay"--eh, Bob? + +Yardsley. Exactly--when you least expect it, too--though the Alberta +isn't much better. You get coasting on either of 'em, and half-way +down, bang! the front wheel collapses, hind wheel flies up and hits +you in the neck, handle-bar turns just in time to stab you in the +chest; and there you are, miles from home, a physical, moral, bicycle +wreck. But the Arena wheel is different. In fact, I may say that +the only safe wheel is the Arena. That's the one I ride. However, +at fifty dollars this one isn't extravagant. + +Perkins. I paid a hundred. + +Yardsley. A wha--a--at? + +Perkins. Hundred. + +Barlow. Well you are a--a--good fellow. It's a pretty wheel, +anyhow. Eh, Bob? + +Yardsley. Simple beauty. Is she pumped up? + +Perkins. Beg your pardon? + +Yardsley. Pumped up, tires full and tight--ready for action--support +an elephant? + +Perkins. Guess so--my--I mean, the agent said it was perfect. + +Yardsley. Extra nuts? + +Perkins. What? + +Yardsley. Extra nuts--nuts extra. Suppose you lose a nut, and your +pedal comes off; what you going to do--get a tow? + +Barlow. Guess Perkins thinks this is like going to sleep. + +Perkins. I don't know anything about it. What I'm after is +information; only, I give you warning, I will not ride so as to get +round shoulders. + +Yardsley. Then where's your wrench? Screw up your bar, hoist your +handles, elevate your saddle, and you're O.K. What saddle have you? + +Perkins (tapping it). This. + +Barlow. Humph! Not very good--but we'll try it. Come on. It's +getting late. + +[They go out. Perkins reluctantly. In a moment he returns alone, +and, rushing to Mrs. Perkins, kisses her affectionately. + +Perkins. Good-bye, dearest. + +Mrs. Perkins. Good-bye. Don't hurt yourself, Thaddeus. [Exit +Perkins. + +Mrs. Perkins (leaving window and looking at clock on mantel). Ten +minutes past nine and Emma not here yet. It does seem too bad that +she should worry Ed so much just for independence' sake. I am quite +sure I should never want to ride a wheel anyhow, and even if I did-- + +Enter Yardsley hurriedly, with a piece of flannel in his hand. + +Yardsley. I beg pardon, Mrs. Perkins, but have you a shawl-strap in +the house? + +Mrs. Perkins (tragically). What is that you have in your hand, Mr. +Yardsley? + +Yardsley (with a glance at the piece of flannel). That? Oh--ha-ha-- +that--that's a--ah--a piece of flannel. + +Mrs. Perkins (snatching the flannel from Yardsley's hand). But +Teddy--isn't that a piece of Teddy's--Teddy's shirt? + +Yardsley. More than that, Mrs. Perkins. It's the greater part of +Teddy's shirt. That's why we want the shawl-strap. When we started +him off, you know, he took his coat off. Jack held on to the wheel, +and I took Teddy in the fulness of his shirt. One--two--three! +Teddy put on steam--Barlow let go--Teddy went off--I held on--this is +what remained. It ruined the shirt, but Teddy is safe. (Aside.) +Barring about sixty or seventy bruises. + +Mrs. Perkins (with a faint smile). And the shawl-strap? + +Yardsley. I want to fasten it around Teddy's waist, grab hold of the +handle, and so hold him up. He's all right, so don't you worry. +(Exit Mrs. Perkins in search of shawl-strap.) Guess I'd better not +say anything about the Pond's Extract he told me to bring--doesn't +need it, anyhow. Man's got to get used to leaving pieces of his +ankle-bone on the curb-stone if he wants to learn to ride a wheel. +Only worry her if I asked her for it--won't hurt him to suffer a +week. + +Enter Bradley. + +Bradley. Has she come yet? + +Yardsley. No--just gone up-stairs for a shawl-strap. + +Bradley. Shawl-strap? Who? + +Perkins (outside). Hurry up with that Pond's Extract, will you? + +Yardsley. All right--coming. Who? Who what? + +Bradley. Who has gone up-stairs after shawl-strap--my wife? + +Yardsley. No, no, no. Hasn't she got here yet? It's Mrs. Perkins. +Perk fell off just now and broke in two. We want to fasten him +together. + +Barlow (outside). Bring out that pump. His wheel's flabby. + +Enter Mrs. Perkins with shawl-strap. + +Mrs. Perkins. Here it is. What did I hear about Pond's Extract? +Didn't somebody call for it? + +Yardsley. No--oh no--not a bit of it! What you heard was shawl- +strap--sounds like extract--very much like it. In fact-- + +Bradley. But you did say you wanted-- + +Yardsley (aside to Bradley). Shut up! Thaddeus banged his ankle, +but he'll get over it in a minute. She'd only worry. The best +bicyclers in the world are all the time falling off, taking headers, +and banging their ankles. + +Bradley. Poor Emma! + +Enter Barlow. + +Barlow. Where the deuce is that Ex-- + +Yardsley (grasping him by the arm and pushing him out). Here it is; +this is the ex-strap, just what we wanted. (Aside to Bradley.) Go +down to the drug-store and get a bottle of Pond's, will you? [Exit. + +Mrs. Perkins (walking to window). She can't be long in coming now. + +Bradley. I guess I'll go out to the corner again. (Aside.) Best +bicyclers always smashing ankles, falling off, taking headers! If I +ever get hold of Emma again, I'll see whether she'll ride that-- +[Rushes out. + +Mrs. Perkins. It seems to have made these men crazy. I never saw +such strange behavior in all my life. (The telephone-bell rings.) +What can that be? (Goes to 'phone, which stands just outside parlor +door.) Hello! What? Yes, this is 1181--yes. Who are you? What? +Emma? Oh dear, I'm so glad! Are you alive? Where are you? What? +_Where_? _The police-station_! (Turning from telephone.) Thaddeus, +Mr. Barlow, Mr. Yardsley. (Into telephone.) Hello! What for? +What? Riding without a lamp! Arrested at Forty-second Street! Want +to be bailed out? (Drops receiver. Rushes into parlor and throws +herself on sofa.) To think of it--Emma Bradley! (Telephone-bell +rings violently again; Mrs. Perkins goes to it.) Hello! Yes. Tell +Ed what? To ask for Mrs. Willoughby Hawkins. Who's she? What, +_you_! (Drops the receiver; runs to window.) Thaddeus! Mr. +Yardsley! Mr. Barlow!--all of you come here, quick. + +[They rush in. Perkins with shawl-strap about his waist--limping. +Barlow has large air-pump in his hand. Mrs. Perkins grows faint. + +Perkins. Great heavens! What's the matter? + +Barlow. Get some water--quick! + +[Yardsley runs for water. + +Mrs. Perkins. Air! Give me air! + +Perkins (grabbing pump from Barlow's hand). Don't stand there like +an idiot! Act! She wants air! + +[Places pump on floor and begins to pump air at her. + +Barlow. Who's the idiot now? Wheel her over to the window. She's +not a bicycle. + +They do so. Mrs. Perkins revives. + +Perkins. What is the matter? + +Mrs. Perkins. Mrs. Willoughby Hawkins--arrested--Forty-second +Street--no lamp--bailed out. Oh, dear me, dear me! It'll all be in +the papers! + +Perkins. What's that got to do with us? Who's Mrs. Willoughby +Hawkins? + +Mrs. Perkins. Emma! Assumed name. + +Barlow. Good Lord! Mrs. Bradley in jail? + +Perkins. This is a nice piece of--ow--my ankle, my ankle! + +[Enter Bradley and Yardsley at same time, Bradley with bottle of +Pond's Extract, Yardsley with glass of water. + +Bradley. Where the deuce did you fellows go to? I've been wandering +all over the square looking for you. + +Perkins. Your wife-- + +Bradley (dropping bottle). What? What about her--hurt? + +Mrs. Perkins. Worse! [Sobs. + +Bradley. Killed? + +Mrs. Perkins. Worse--l-lol-locked up--in jail--no bail--wants to be +lamped out. + +Bradley. Great heavens! Where?--when? What next? Where's my hat?-- +what'll the baby say? I must go to her at once. + +Yardsley. Hold on, old man. Let me go up. You're too excited. I +know the police captain. You stay here, and I'll run up and fix it +with him. If you go, he'll find out who Mrs. Hawkins is; you'll get +mad, and things will be worse than ever. + +Bradley. But-- + +Barlow. No buts, my dear boy. You just stay where you are. +Yardsley's right. It would be an awful grind on you if this ever +became known. Bob can fix it up in two minutes with the captain, and +Mrs. Bradley can come right back with him. Besides, he can get there +in five minutes on his wheel. It will take you twenty on the cars. + +Yardsley. Precisely. Meanwhile, Brad, you'd better learn to ride +the wheel, so that Mrs. B. won't have to ride alone. This ought to +be a lesson to you. + +Perkins. Bully idea (rubbing his ankle). You can use my wheel to- +night--I--I think I've had enough for the present. (Aside.) The +pavements aren't soft enough for me; and, O Lord! what a stony curb +that was! + +Bradley. I never thought I'd get so low. + +Yardsley. Well, it seems to me that a man with a wife in jail +needn't be too stuck up to ride a bicycle. But--by-by--I'm off. +[Exit. + +Mrs. Perkins. Poor Emma--out for freedom, and lands in jail. What +horrid things policemen are, to arrest a woman! + +Bradley (indignantly). Served her right! If women won't obey the +law they ought to be arrested, the same as men. If she wasn't my +wife, I'd like to see her sent up for ten years or even twenty years. +Women have got no business-- + +Barlow. Don't get mad, Brad. If you knew the fascination of the +wheel you wouldn't blame her a bit. + +Bradley (calming down). Well--I suppose it has some fascination. + +Perkins (anxious to escape further lessons). Oh, indeed, it's a most +exhilarating sensation: you seem to be flying like a bird over the +high-ways. Try it, Ned. Go on, right away. You don't know how that +little ride I had braced me up. + +Barlow (wish a laugh). There! Hear that! There's a man who's +ridden only eight inches in all his life--and he says he felt like a +bird! + +Perkins (aside). Yes--like a spring chicken split open for broiling. +Next time I ride a wheel it'll be four wheels, with a horse fastened +in front. Oh my! oh my! I believe I've broken my back too. [Lies +down. + +Bradley. You seem to be exhilarated, Thaddeus. + +Perkins (bracing up). Oh, I am, I am. Never felt worse--that is, +better. + +Barlow. Come on, Brad. I'll show you the trick in two jiffies-- +it'll relieve your worry about madam, too. + +Bradley. Very well--I suppose there's no way out of it. Only let me +know as soon as Emma arrives, will you? + +Mrs. Perkins. Yes--we will. + +[They go out. As they disappear through the door Thaddeus groans +aloud. + +Mrs. Perkins. Why--what is the matter, dear? Are you hurt? + +Perkins. Oh no--not at all, my love. I was only thinking of Mr. +Jarley's indignation to-morrow when he sees the hole I made in his +curb-stone with my ankle--oh!--ow!--and as for my back, while I don't +think the whole spine is gone, I shouldn't be surprised if it had +come through in sections. + +Mrs. Perkins. Why, you poor thing--why didn't you say-- + +Perkins (savagely). Why didn't I say? My heavens, Bess, what did +you think I wanted the Pond's Extract for--to drink, or to water the +street with? O Lord! (holding up his arm). There aren't any ribs +sticking out, are there? + +Barlow (outside). The other way--there--that's it--you've got it. + +Bradley (outside). Why, it _is_ easy, isn't it? + +Perkins (scornfully). Easy! That fellow'd find comfort in-- + +Barlow (outside). Now you're off--not too fast. + +Mrs. Perkins (walking to window). Why, Thaddeus, he's going like the +wind down the street! + +Perkins. Heaven help him when he comes to the river! + +Barlow (rushing in). Here we are in trouble again. Brad's gone off +on my wheel. Bob's taken his, and your tire's punctured. He doesn't +know the first thing about turning or stopping, and I can't run fast +enough to catch him. One member of the family is in jail--the other +on a runaway wheel! + +[Yardsley appears at door. Assumes attitude of butler announcing +guest. + +Yardsley. Missus Willerby 'Awkins! + +Enter Mrs. Bradley, hysterical. + +Mrs. Bradley. Oh, Edward! + +[Throws herself into Barlow's arms. + +Barlow (quietly). Excuse me--ah--Mrs. Hawkins--ah--Bradley--but I'm +not--I'm not your husband. + +Mrs. Bradley (looking up, tragically). Where's Edward? + +Mrs. Perkins. Sit down, dear--you must be completely worn out. + +Mrs. Bradley (in alarm). Where is he? + +Perkins (rising and standing on one leg). Fact is, Mrs. Bradley--we +don't know. He disappeared ten minutes ago. + +Yardsley. What do you mean? + +Mrs. Bradley. Disappeared? + +Barlow. Yes. He went east--at the rate of about a mile a minute. + +Mrs. Bradley. My husband--went east? Mile a minute? + +Perkins. Yes, on a bike. Yardsley, take me by the shawl-strap, will +you, and help me over to that chair; my back hurts so I can't lie +down. + +Mrs. Bradley. Ned--on a wheel? Why, he can't ride! + +Barlow. Oh yes, he can. What I'm afraid of is that he can't stop +riding. + +Bradley (outside). Hi--Barlow--help! + +Mrs. Bradley. That's his voice--he called for help. + +Yardsley (rushing to window). Hi--Brad--stop! Your wife's here. + +Bradley (in distance). Can't stop--don't know how-- + +Barlow (leaning out of window). By Jove! he's turned the corner all +right. If he keeps on around, we can catch him next time he passes. + +Mrs. Bradley. Oh, do, do stop him. I'm so afraid he'll be hurt. + +Mrs. Perkins (looking out). I can just see him on the other side of +the square--and, oh dear me!--_his_ lamp is out. + +Mrs. Bradley. Oh, Mr. Yardsley--Mr. Barlow--Mr. Perkins--do stop +him! + +[By this time all are gazing out of window, except Perkins, who is +nursing his ankle. + +Perkins. I guess not. I'm not going to lie down in the road, or sit +in the road, or stand in the road to stop him or anybody else. I +don't believe I've got a sound bone left; but if I have, I'm going to +save it, if Bradley kills himself. If his lamp's out the police will +stop him. Why not be satisfied with that? + +Bradley (passing the window). For Heaven's sake! one of you fellows +stop me. + +Yardsley. Put on the brake. + +Barlow. Fall off. It hasn't got a brake. + +Bradley (despairingly, in distance). Can't. + +Mrs. Perkins. This is frightful. + +Perkins (with a grimace at his ankle). Yes; but there are other +fearful things in this world. + +Mrs. Bradley. I shall go crazy if he isn't stopped. He'll kill +himself. + +Yardsley (leaving window hurriedly). I have it. Got a length of +clothes-line, Mrs. Perkins? + +Barlow. What the dickens-- + +Mrs. Perkins. Yes. + +[She rushes from the room. + +Mrs. Bradley. What for? + +Yardsley. I'll lasso him, next time he comes around. + +Perkins (with a grin). There'll be two of us! We can start a +hospital on the top floor. + +Mrs. Perkins (returning). Here--here's the line. + +[Yardsley takes it hurriedly, and, tying it into a noose, hastens +out. + +Perkins (rising). If I never walk again, I must see this. [Limps to +window. + +Mrs. Bradley. He's coming, Mr. Yardsley; don't miss him. + +Barlow. Steady, Bob; get in the light. + +Mrs. Perkins. Suppose it catches his neck? + +Perkins. This beats the Wild West Show. + +[A crash. + +All. He's got him. + +[All rush out, except Perkins. + +Perkins. Oh yes; he learned in a minute, he did. Easy! Ha, ha! +Gad! it almost makes me forget my pain. + +Enter all, asking. "Is he hurt? How do you feel?" etc. Yardsley +has rope-end in right hand; noose is tied about Bradley's body, his +coat and clothing are much the worse for wear. + +Mrs. Bradley. Poor, dear Edward! + +Bradley (weakly kissing her). Don't m-mind me. I--I'm all right-- +only a little exhilarated--and somewhat--er--somewhat breathless. +Feel like a bird--on toast. Yardsley, you're a brick. But that +pavement--that was a pile of 'em, and the hardest I ever encountered. +I always thought asphalt was soft--who said asphalt was soft? + +Perkins. Easy to learn, though, eh? + +Bradley. Too easy. I'd have gone on--er--forever--er--if it hadn't +been for Bob. + +Mrs. Bradley. I'll give it up, Ned dear, if you say so. + +Mrs. Perkins (affectionately). That's sweet of you, Emma. + +Bradley. No, indeed, you won't, for--er--I--I rather like it while +it's going on, and when I learn to get off-- + +Yardsley. Which you will very shortly. + +Barlow. You bet! he's a dandy. I taught him. + +Bradley. I think I'll adore it. + +Perkins. Buy a Czar wheel, Brad. Best in the market; weighs only +twenty pounds. I've got one with a ki-yi pump and a pneumatic gun +you can have for ten dollars. + +Jennie (at the door). Supper is served ma'am. [Exit. + +Mrs. Perkins. Let us go out and restore our nerves. Come, Emma. + +[She and Mrs. Bradley walk out. + +Yardsley (aside). I say, Brad, you owe me five. + +Bradley. What for? + +Yardsley. Bail. + +Barlow. Cheap too. + +Yardsley. Very. I think he ought to open a bottle besides. + +Perkins. I'll attend to the bottles. We'll have three. + +Barlow. Two will be enough. + +Perkins. Three--two of fizz for you and Bob and the ladies, and if +Bradley will agree, I'll split a quart of Pond's Extract with him. + +Bradley. I'll go you. I think I could take care of the whole quart +myself. + +Perkins. Then we'll make it four bottles. + +Mrs. Perkins (appearing at door with her arm about Mrs. Bradley). +Aren't you coming? + +Perkins (rising with difficulty). As fast as we can, my dear. We've +been taking lessons, you know, and can't move as rapidly as the rest +of you. We're a trifle--ah--a trifle tired. Yardsley, you tow +Bradley into the dining room; and, Barlow, kindly pretend I'm a +shawl, will you, and carry me in. + +Bradley. I'll buy a wheel to-morrow. + +Perkins. Don't, Brad. I--I'll give you mine. Fact is, old man, I +don't exactly like feeling like a bird. + +[They go out, and as the last, Perkins and Bradley, disappear stiffly +through the portieres, the curtain falls. + + + +A DRAMATIC EVENING + + + +CHARACTERS: + +MR. THADDEUS PERKINS, a victim. +MR. EDWARD BRADLEY, a friend in disguise. +MR. ROBERT YARDSLEY, an amiable villain. +MR. JOHN BARLOW, the amiable villain's assistant. +MRS. THADDEUS PERKINS, a martyr. +MRS. EDWARD BRADLEY, a woman of executive ability. +JENNIE, a housemaid. + +The scene is placed in the drawing-room of Mr. and Mrs. Thaddeus +Perkins, of New York. The time is a Saturday evening in the early +spring, and the hour is approaching eight. The curtain, rising, +discovers Perkins, in evening dress, reading a newspaper by the light +of a lamp on the table. Mrs. Perkins is seated on the other side of +the table, buttoning her gloves. Her wrap is on a chair near at +hand. The room is gracefully over-furnished. + +Mrs. Perkins. Where are the seats, Thaddeus? + +Perkins. Third row; and, by Jove! Bess (looking at his watch), we +must hurry. It is getting on towards eight now. The curtain rises +at 8.15. + +Mrs. Perkins. The carriage hasn't come yet. It isn't more than a +ten minutes' drive to the theatre. + +Perkins. That's true, but there are so many carriage-folk going to +see Irving that if we don't start early we'll find ourselves on the +end of the line, and the first act will be half over before we can +reach our seats. + +Mrs. Perkins. I'm so glad we've got good seats--down near the front. +I despise opera-glasses, and seats under the galleries are so +oppressive. + +Perkins. Well, I don't know. For The Lyons Mail I think a seat in +the front row of the top gallery, where you can cheer virtue and hiss +villany without making yourself conspicuous, is the best. + +Mrs. Perkins. You don't mean to say that you'd like to sit up with +those odious gallery gods? + +Perkins. For a melodrama, I do. What's the use of clapping your +gloved hands together at a melodrama? That doesn't express your +feelings. I always want to put two fingers in my mouth and pierce +the atmosphere with a regular gallery-god whistle when I see the +villain laid low by the tow-headed idiot in the last act--but it +wouldn't do in the orchestra. You might as well expect the people in +the boxes to eat peanuts as expect an orchestra-chair patron to +whistle on his fingers. + +Mrs. Perkins. I should die of mortification if you ever should do +such a vulgar thing, Thaddeus. + +Perkins. Then you needn't be afraid, my dear. I'm too fond of you +to sacrifice you to my love for whistling. (The front-door bell +rings.) Ah, there is the carriage at last. I'll go and get my coat. + +[Mrs. Perkins rises, and is about to don her wrap as Mr. Perkins goes +towards the door. + +Enter Mr. and Mrs. Bradley. Perkins staggers backward in surprise. +Mrs. Perkins lets her wrap fall to the floor, an expression of dismay +on her face. + +Mrs. Perkins (aside). Dear me! I'd forgotten all about it. _This_ +is the night the club is to meet here! + +Bradley. Ah, Perkins, how d' y' do? Glad to see me? Gad! you don't +look it. + +Perkins. Glad is a word which scarcely expresses my feelings, +Bradley. I--I'm simply de-lighted. (Aside to Mrs. Perkins, who has +been greeting Mrs. Bradley.) Here's a kettle of fish. We must get +rid of them, or we'll miss The Lyons Mail. + +Mrs. Bradley. You two are always so formal. The idea of your +putting on your dress suit, Thaddeus! It'll be ruined before we are +half through this evening. + +Bradley. Certainly, Perkins. Why, man, when you've been moving +furniture and taking up carpets and ripping out fireplaces for an +hour or two that coat of yours will be a rag--a veritable rag that +the ragman himself would be dubious about buying. + +Perkins (aside). Are these folk crazy? Or am I? (Aloud.) Pulling +up fireplaces? Moving out furniture? Am I to be dispossessed? + +Mrs. Bradley. Not by your landlord, but _you_ know what amateur +dramatics are. + +Bradley. I doubt it. He wouldn't have let us have 'em here if he +had known. + +Perkins. Amateur--amateur dramatics? + +Mrs. Perkins. Certainly, Thaddeus. You know we offered our parlor +for the performance. The audience are to sit out in the hall. + +Perkins. Oh--ah! Why, of course! Certainly! It had slipped my +mind; and--ah--what else? + +Bradley. Why, we're here to-night to arrange the scene. Don't tell +us you didn't know it. Bob Yardsley's coming, and Barlow. +Yardsley's a great man for amateur dramatics; he bosses things so +pleasantly that you don't know you're being ordered about like a +slave. I believe he could persuade a man to hammer nails into his +piano-case if he wanted it done, he's so insinuatingly lovely about +it all. + +Perkins (absently). I'll get a hammer. [Exit. + +Mrs. Perkins (aside). I must explain to Thaddeus. He'll never +forgive me. (Aloud.) Thaddeus is so forgetful that I don't believe +he can find that hammer, so if you'll excuse me I'll go help him. +[Exit. + +Bradley. Wonder what's up? They don't quarrel, do they? + +Mrs. Bradley. I don't believe any one could quarrel with Bessie +Perkins--not even a man. + +Bradley. Well, they're queer. Acted as if they weren't glad to see +us. + +Mrs. Bradley. Oh, that's all your imagination. (Looks about the +room.) That table will have to be taken out, and all these chairs +and cabinets; and the rug will never do. + +Bradley. Why not? I think the rug will look first-rate. + +Mrs. Bradley. A rug like that in a conservatory? [A ring at the +front-door bell is heard. + +Bradley. Ah! maybe that's Yardsley. I hope so. If Perkins and his +wife are out of sorts we want to hurry up and get through. + +Mrs. Bradley. Oh, we'll be through by twelve o'clock. + +Enter Yardsley and Barlow. + +Yardsley. Ah! here we are at last. The wreckers have arrove. +Where's Perkins? + +Barlow. Taken to the woods, I fancy. I say, Bob, don't you think +before we begin we'd better give Perkins ether? He'll suffer +dreadful agony. + +Enter Mrs. Perkins, wiping her eyes. + +Mrs. Perkins. How do you do, Mr. Barlow? and you, Mr. Yardsley? So +glad to see you. Thaddeus will be down in a minute. He--ah--he +forgot about the--the meeting here to-night, and he--he put on his +dress-coat. + +Yardsley. Bad thing to lift a piano in. Better be without any coat. +But I say we begin--eh? If you don't mind, Mrs. Perkins. We've got +a great deal to do, and unfortunately hours are limited in length as +well as in number. Ah! that fireplace must be covered up. Wouldn't +do to have a fireplace in a conservatory. Wilt all the flowers in +ten minutes. + +Mrs. Perkins (meekly). You needn't have the fire lit, need you? + +Barlow. No--but--a fireplace without fire in it seems sort of--of +bald, don't you think? + +Yardsley. Bald? Splendid word applied to a fireplace. So few +fireplaces have hair. + +Mrs. Bradley. Oh, it could be covered up without any trouble, +Bessie. Can't we have those dining-room portieres to hang in front +of it? + +Yardsley. Just the thing. Dining-room portieres always look well, +whether they're in a conservatory or a street scene. (Enter +Perkins.) Hello, Thaddeus! How d' y'? Got your overalls on? + +Perkins (trying to appear serene). Yes. I'm ready for anything. +Anything I can do? + +Bradley. Yes--look pleasant. You look as if you were going to have +your picture taken, or a tooth pulled. Haven't you a smile you don't +need that you can give us? This isn't a funeral. + +Perkins (assuming a grin). How'll that do? + +Barlow. First-rate. We'll have to make you act next. That's the +most villanous grin I ever saw. + +Yardsley. I'll write a tragedy to go with it. But I say, Thad, we +want those dining-room portieres of yours. Get 'em down for us, will +you? + +Perkins. Dining-room portieres! What for? + +Mrs. Perkins. They all think the fireplace would better be hid, +Thaddeus, dear. It wouldn't look well in a conservatory. + +Perkins. I suppose not. And the dining-room portieres are wanted to +cover up the fireplace? + +Yardsley. Precisely. You have a managerial brain, Thaddeus. _You_ +can see at once what a dining-room portiere is good for. If ever I +am cast away on a desert island, with nothing but a dining-room +portiere for solace, I hope you'll be along to take charge of it. In +your hands its possibilities are absolutely unlimited. Get them for +us, old man; and while you are about it, bring a stepladder. (Exit +Perkins, dejectedly.) Now, Barlow, you and Bradley help me with this +piano. Pianos may do well enough in gardens or pirates' caves, but +for conservatories they're not worth a rap. + +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. + +Yardsley. I guess we'd better put it over in this corner, where the +audience won't see it. If you are so careless that you can't move a +piano without losing its tone, we'd better not have it moved too far. +Now, then. + +[Barlow, Yardsley, and Bradley endeavor to push the piano over the +floor, but it doesn't move. + +Enter Perkins with two portieres wrapped about him, and hugging a +small stepladder in his arms. + +Bradley. Hurry up, Perkins. Don't shirk so. Can't you see that +we're trying to get this piano across the floor? Where are you at? + +Perkins (meekly). I'm trying to make myself at home. Do you expect +me to hang on to these things and move pianos at the same time? + +Barlow. Let him alone, Bradley. He's doing the best he knows. I +always say give a man credit for doing what he can, whether he is +intelligent or not. Of course we don't expect you to hang on to the +portieres and the stepladder while you are pushing the piano, Thad. +That's too much to expect of any man of your size; some men might do +it, but not all. Drop the portieres. + +Perkins. Where'll I put 'em? + +Yardsley. Put them on the stepladder. + +Perkins (impatiently). And where shall I put the stepladder--on the +piano? + +Mrs. Perkins (coming to the rescue). I'll take care of these things, +Thaddeus, dear. + +Bradley. That's right; put everything off on your wife. What shirks +some men are! + +Yardsley. Now, then, Perkins, lend us your shoulder, and--one, two, +three--push! Ah! She starts; she moves; she seems to feel the +thrill of life along her keel. We must have gained an inch. Once +more, now. My, but this is a heavy piano! + +Bradley. Must be full of Wagnerian music. Why don't you get a piano +of lighter quality, Perkins? This isn't any kind of an instrument +for amateur stage-hands to manage. + +Perkins. I'll know better next time. But is it where you want it +now? + +Yardsley. Not a bit of it. We need one more push. Get her rolling, +and keep her rolling until she stands over there in that corner; and +be careful to stop her in time, I should hate to push a piano through +one of my host's parlor walls just for the want of a little care. +(They push until the piano stands against the wall on the other side +of the room, keyboard in.) There! That's first-rate. You can put a +camp-chair on top of it for the prompter to sit on; there's nothing +like having the prompter up high, because amateur actors when they +forget their lines, always look up in the air. Perkins, go sit out +in the hall and imagine yourself an enthusiastic audience--will you?-- +and tell us if you can see the piano. If you can see it, we'll have +to put it somewhere else. + +Perkins. Do you mean it? + +Mrs. Bradley. Of course he doesn't, Mr. Perkins. It's impossible to +see it from the hall. Now, I think the rug ought to come up. + +Mrs. Perkins. Dear me! what for? + +Yardsley. Oh, it wouldn't do at all to have that rug in the +conservatory, Mrs. Perkins. Besides, I should be afraid it would be +spoiled. + +Perkins. Spoiled? What would spoil it? Are you going to wear +spiked shoes? + +Barlow. Spiked shoes? Thaddeus, really you ought to have your mind +examined. This scene is supposed to be just off the ballroom, and it +is here that Gwendoline comes during the lanciers and encounters +Hartley, the villain. Do you suppose that even a villain in an +amateur show would go to a ball with spiked shoes on? + +Perkins (wearily). But I still fail to see what is to spoil the rug. +Does the villain set fire to the conservatory in this play, or does +he assassinate the virtuous hero here and spill his gore on the +floor? + +Bradley. What a blood-and-thunder idea of the drama you have! Of +course he doesn't. There isn't a death in the whole play, and it's +two hours long. One or two people in the audience may die while the +play is going on, but people who haven't strong constitutions +shouldn't attend amateur shows. + +Mrs. Perkins. That's true, I fancy. + +Mrs. Bradley. Very. It would be very rude for one of your invited +guests to cast a gloom over your evening by dying. + +Yardsley. It is seldom done among people who know what is what. But +to explain the point you want explained, Thaddeus: the rug might be +spoiled by a leak in the fountain. + +Mrs. Perkins. The fountain? + +Perkins. You don't mean to say you're going to have a fountain +playing here? + +Bradley. Certainly. A conservatory without a fountain would be like +"Hamlet" with Yorick's skull left out. There's to be a fountain +playing here, and a band playing in the next room--all in a green +light, too. It'll be highly effective. + +Perkins. But how--how are you going to make the fountain go? Is it +to spurt real water? + +Yardsley. Of course. Did you ever see a fountain spurt sawdust or +lemonade? It's not a soda-water fountain either, but a straight +temperance affair, such as you'll find in the homes of all truly good +people. Now don't get excited and raise obstacles. The thing is +simple enough if you know how to do it. Got one of those English +bath-tubs in the house? + +Perkins. No. But, of course, if you want a bath-tub, I'll have a +regular porcelain one with running water, hot and cold, put in--two +of 'em, if you wish. Anything to oblige. + +Yardsley. No; stationary bath-tubs are useful, but not exactly +adapted to a conservatory. + +Barlow. I brought my tub with me. I knew Perkins hadn't one, and so +I thought I'd better come provided. It's out in the hall. I'll get +it. [Exit. + +Mrs. Bradley (to Mrs. Perkins). He's just splendid! never forgets +anything. + +Mrs. Perkins. I should say not. But, Mr. Yardsley, a bath-tub, even +an English one, will not look very well, will it? + +Yardsley. Oh, very. You see, we'll put it in the centre of the +room. Just move that table out into the hall, Thaddeus. (Enter +Barlow with tub.) Ah! now I'll show you. (Perkins removes table.) +You see, we put the tub here in the middle of the floor, then we +surround it with potted plants. That conceals the tub, and there's +your fountain. + +Perkins. But the water--how do you get that? + +Bradley. We buy it in bottles, of course, and hire a boy to come in +and pour it out every two minutes. How dull you are, Perkins! I'm +surprised at you. + +Perkins. I'm not over-bright, I must confess, when it comes to +building fountains in parlors, with no basis but an English bath-tub +to work on. + +Yardsley. Did you ever hear of such a thing as a length of hose with +a nozzle on one end and a Croton-water pipe at the other, Thaddeus +Perkins? + +Mrs. Perkins. But where is the Croton-water pipe? + +Mrs. Bradley. In the butler's pantry. The hose can be carried +through the dining-room, across the hall into this room, and it will +be dreadfully effective; and so safe, too, in case the curtain +catches fire. + +Mrs. Perkins. Oh, Emma! You don't think-- + +Perkins. Cheerful prospect. But I say, Yardsley, you have arranged +for the water supply; how about its exit? How does the water get out +of the tub? + +Yardsley. It doesn't, unless you want to bore a hole in the floor, +and let it flow into the billiard-room below. We've just got to +hustle that scene along, so that the climax will be reached before +the tub overflows. + +Barlow. Perhaps we'd better test the thing now. Maybe my tub isn't +large enough for the scene. It would be awkward if the heroine had +to seize a dipper and bail the fountain out right in the middle of an +impassioned rebuke to Hartley. + +Perkins. All right--go ahead. Test it. Test anything. I'll supply +the Croton pipes. + +Yardsley. None of you fellows happen to have a length of hose with +you, do you? + +Bradley. I left mine in my other clothes. + +Mrs. Bradley. That's just like you men. You grow flippant over very +serious matters. For my part, if I am to play Gwendoline, I shall +not bail out the fountain even to save poor dear Bessie's floor. + +Yardsley. Oh, it'll be all right. Only, if you see the fountain +getting too full, speak faster. + +Barlow. We might announce a race between the heroine and the +fountain. It would add to the interest of the play. This is an +athletic age. + +Perkins. I suppose it wouldn't do to turn the water off in case of +danger. + +Barlow. It could be done, but it wouldn't look well. The audience +might think the fountain had had an attack of stage fright. Where is +the entrance from the ballroom to be? + +Yardsley. It ought to be where the fireplace is. That's one reason +why I think the portieres will look well there. + +Mrs. Perkins. But I don't see how that can be. Nobody could come in +there. There wouldn't be room behind for any one to stand, would +there? + +Bradley. I don't know. That fireplace is large, and only two people +have to come in that way. The rising curtain discloses Gwendoline +just having come in. If Hartley, the villain, and Jack Pendleton, +the manly young navy officer, who represents virtue, and dashes in at +the right moment to save Gwendoline, could sit close and stand the +discomfort of it, they might squeeze in there and await their cues. + +Mrs. Perkins. Sit in the fireplace? + +Yardsley. Yes. Why not? + +Perkins. Don't you interfere, Bess, Yardsley is managing this show, +and if he wants to keep the soubrette waiting on the mantel-piece +it's his lookout, and not ours. + +Yardsley. By-the-way, Thaddeus, Wilkins has backed out, and you are +to play the villain. + +Perkins. I? Never! + +Barlow. Oh, but you must. All you have to do is frown and rant and +look real bad. + +Perkins. But I can't act. + +Bradley. That doesn't make any difference. We don't want a villain +that the audience will fall in love with. That would be immoral. +The more you make them despise you, the better. + +Perkins. Well--I positively decline to sit in the fireplace. I tell +you that right now. + +Mrs. Bradley. Don't waste time talking about petty details. Let the +entrance be there. We can hang the curtain on a frame two feet out +from the wall, so that there will be plenty of room behind for +Hartley and Pendleton to stand. The frame can be fastened to the +wood-work of the mantel-piece. It may take a screw or two to hold +it, but they'll be high up, so nobody will notice the holes in the +wood after it comes down. The point that bothers me is this wall- +paper. People don't put wall-papers on their conservatories. + +Perkins (sarcastically). I'll have the room repapered in sheet- +glass. Or we might borrow a few hot-bed covers and hang them from +the picture moulding, so that the place would look like a real +greenhouse. + +Yardsley. Napoleonic idea. Barlow, jot down among the properties +ten hot-bed covers, twenty picture-hooks, and a coil of wire. You're +developing, Perkins. + +Mrs. Perkins (ruefully, aside). I wish Thaddeus's jokes weren't +always taken seriously. The idea of my drawing-room walls being hung +with hot-bed covers! Why, it's awful. + +Yardsley. Well, now that that's settled, we'll have to dispose of +the pictures. Thaddeus, I wish you'd take down the pictures on the +east wall, so that we can put our mind's eye on just how we shall +treat the background. The mere hanging of hot-bed covers there will +not do. The audience could see directly through the glass, and the +wall-paper would still destroy the illusion. + +Perkins. Anything. Perhaps if you got a jack-plane and planed the +walls off it would suffice. + +Bradley. Don't be sarcastic, my boy. Remember we didn't let you +into this. You volunteered. + +Perkins. I know it, Bradley. The house is yours. + +Barlow. I said you had paresis when you made the offer, Perkins. If +you want to go to law about it, I think you could get an injunction +against us--or, rather, Mrs. Perkins could--on the ground that you +were non compos at the time. + +Mrs. Perkins. Why, we're most happy to have you, I'm sure. + +Perkins. So 'm I. (Aside.) Heaven forgive me that! + +Yardsley. By-the-way, Thad, there's one thing I meant to have spoken +about as soon as I got here. Er--is this _your_ house, or do you +rent it? + +Perkins. I rent it. What has that to do with it? + +Bradley. A great deal. You don't think we'd treat _your_ house as +we would a common landlord's, do you? You wouldn't yourself. + +Yardsley. That's the point. If you own the house we want to be +careful and consider your feelings. If you _don't_, we don't care +what happens. + +Perkins. I don't own the house. (Aside.) And under the +circumstances I'm rather glad I don't. + +Yardsley. Well, I'm glad you don't. My weak point is my conscience, +and when it comes to destroying a friend's property, I don't exactly +like to do it. But if this house belongs to a sordid person, who +built it just to put money in his own pocket, I don't care. Barlow, +you can nail those portieres up. It won't be necessary to build a +frame for them. Bradley, carry the chairs and cabinets out. + +[Bradley, assisted by Perkins, removes the remaining furniture, +placing the bric-a-brac on the floor. + +Barlow. All right. Where's that stepladder? Thaddeus, got any +nails? + +Mrs. Perkins. I--I think we'd rather have a frame, Mr. Yardsley. +_We_ can have one made, can't we, Thaddeus? + +Perkins. Certainly. We can have anything made. (Aside.) I suppose +I'd build a theatre for 'em if they asked me to, I'm such a +confounded-- + +Yardsley. Oh no. Of course, if you'd prefer it, we'll send a frame. +I don't think nails would look well in this ceiling, after all. +Temporarily, though, Barlow, you might hang those portieres from the +picture-moulding. + +Barlow. There isn't any. + +Yardsley. Well, then, we'll have to imagine how it will look. + +Mrs. Bradley. All the bric-a-brac will have to be taken from the +room. + +Yardsley. True. Perkins, you know the house better than we do. +Suppose you take the bric-a-brac out and put it where it will be +safe. + +Perkins. Certainly. + +[Begins to remove bric-a-brac. + +Yardsley. Now let's count up. Here's the fountain. + +Barlow. Yes; only we haven't the hose. + +Bradley. Well, make a note of it. + +Mrs. Perkins. Emma, can't we help Thaddeus? + +Mrs. Bradley. Of course. I'll carry out the fender, and you take +the andirons. + +[They do so. + +Yardsley. The entrance will be here, and here will be the curtain. +How about footlights? + +Bradley. This bracket will do for a connection. Any plumber can +take this bracket off and fasten a rubber pipe to it. + +Yardsley. First-rate. Barlow, make a note of one plumber, one +length of rubber pipe, and foot-lights. + +Bradley. And don't forget to have potted plants and palms, and so +forth, galore. + +Barlow. No. I'll make a note of that. Will this sofa do for a +conservatory? + +Yardsley. Jove! Glad you mentioned that. Won't do at all. +Thaddeus! (No answer.) I hope we haven't driven him to drink. + +Bradley. So do I. I'd rather he'd lead us to it. + +Yardsley. Thaddeus! + +Perkins (from without). Well? + +Yardsley. Do you happen to have any conservatory benches in the +house? + +Mrs. Perkins (appearing in doorway). We have a patent laundry table. + +Barlow. Just the thing. + +Yardsley (calling). Bring up the patent laundry table, Thaddeus. +(To Bradley.) What is a patent laundry table? + +Bradley. It's what my wife calls the cook's delight. It's an +ironing-board on wash-days, a supper table at supper-time, and on the +cook's reception days it can be turned into a settee. + +Yardsley. It describes well. + +Perkins (from a distance). Hi! come down and help me with this +thing. I can't carry it up alone. + +Yardsley. All right, Perk. Bradley, you and Barlow help Thaddeus. +I'll move these other chairs and tables out. It's getting late, and +we'll have to hustle. + +[Exit Barlow. Bradley meanwhile has been removing pictures from the +walls, and, as Yardsley speaks, is standing on the stepladder +reaching up for a painting. + +Bradley. What do you take me for--twins? + +Yardsley. Don't get mad, now, Bradley. If there's anything that can +add to the terror of amateur theatricals it's temper. + +Mrs. Bradley (from without). Edward, come here right away. I want +you to move the hat-stand, and see how many people can be seated in +this hall. + +Bradley. Oh yes, certainly, my dear--of course. Right away. My +name is Legion--or Dennis. + +Yardsley. That's the spirit. (A crash is heard without.) Great +Scott! What's that? + +Mrs. Perkins (without). Oh, Thaddeus! + +Bradley. They've dropped the cook's delight. + +[He comes down from the stepladder. He and Yardsley go out. The +pictures are piled up on the floor, the furniture is topsy-turvy, and +the portieres lie in a heap on the hearth. + +Enter Mrs. Perkins. + +Mrs. Perkins. Dear, dear, dear! What a mess! And poor Thaddeus! +I'm glad he wasn't hurt; but I--I'm afraid I heard him say words I +never heard him say before when Mr. Barlow let the table slip. Wish +I hadn't said anything about the table. + +Enter Mrs. Bradley. + +Mrs. Bradley. These men will drive me crazy. They are making more +fuss carrying that laundry table up-stairs than if it were a house; +and the worst of it is our husbands are losing their tempers. + +Mrs. Perkins. Well, I don't wonder. It must be awfully trying to +have a laundry table fall on you. + +Mrs. Bradley. Oh, Thaddeus is angelic, but Edward is absolutely +inexcusable. He swore a minute ago, and it sounded particularly +profane because he had a screw and a picture-hook in his mouth. + +Yardsley (outside). It's almost as heavy as the piano. I don't see +why, either. + +[The four men appear at the door, staggering under the weight of the +laundry table. + +Perkins (as they set it down). Whew! That's what I call work. What +makes this thing so heavy? + +Mrs. Bradley (as she opens a drawer and takes out a half-dozen patent +flat-irons and a handle). This has something to do with it. Why +didn't you take out the drawer first? + +Yardsley. It wasn't my fault. They'd started with it before I took +hold. I didn't know it had a drawer, though I did wonder what it was +that rattled around inside of it. + +Bradley. It wasn't for me to suggest taking the drawer out. +Thaddeus ought to have thought of that. + +Perkins (angrily). Well, of all-- + +Mrs. Perkins. Never mind. It's here, and it's all right. + +Yardsley. That's so. We musn't quarrel. If we get started, we'll +never stop. Now, Perkins, roll up that rug, and we'll get things +placed, and then we'll be through. + +Barlow. Come on; I'll help. Bradley, get those pictures off the +rug. Don't be so careless of Mrs. Perkins's property. + +Bradley. Careless? See here now, Barlow-- + +Mrs. Bradley. Now, Edward--no temper. Take the pictures out. + +Bradley. And where shall I take the pictures out to? + +Yardsley. Put 'em on the dining-room table. + +Perkins (aside). Throw 'em out the window, for all I care. + +Bradley. Eh? + +Perkins. Nothing. I--er--I only said to put 'em--er--to put 'em +wherever you pleased. + +Bradley. But _I_ can't say where they're to go, Thaddeus. This +isn't my house. + +Perkins (aside). No--worse luck--it's mine. + +Mrs. Perkins. Oh--put them in the dining-room; they'll be safe +there. + +Bradley. I will. + +[He begins carrying the pictures out. Perkins, Barlow, and Yardsley +roll up the rug. + +Yardsley. There! You fellows might as well carry that out too; and +then we'll be ready for the scene. + +Barlow. Come along, Thaddeus. You're earning your pay to-night. + +Perkins (desperately). May I take my coat off? I'm boiling. + +Mrs. Bradley. Certainly. I wonder you didn't think of it before. + +Perkins. Think? I never think. + +Yardsley. Well, go ahead in your thoughtless way and get the rug +out. You are delaying us. + +Perkins. All right. Come on. Barlow, are you ready? + +Barlow. I am. [They drag the rug out. + +Yardsley. At last. (Replaces the tub.) There's the fountain. Now +where shall we put the cook's delight? + +Mrs. Perkins. Over here, I should say. + +Mrs. Bradley. I think it would be better here. + +Bradley (who has returned). Put it half-way between 'em, Yardsley. +I say give in always to the ladies; and when they don't agree, +compromise. It's a mighty poor woman that isn't half right +occasionally. + +Mrs. Bradley. Edward! + +Yardsley (adopting the suggestion). There! How's that? + +Perkins (returning). Perfect. I never saw such an original +conservatory in my life. + +Mrs. Perkins. I suppose it's all right. What do you think, Emma? + +Mrs. Bradley. Why, it's simply fine. Of course it requires a little +imagination to see it as it will be on the night of the performance; +but in general I don't see how it could be better. + +Barlow. No--nor I. It's great as it is, but when we get the hot-bed +covers hung, and the fountain playing, and plants arranged gracefully +all around, it will be ideal. I say we ought to give Yardsley a vote +of thanks. + +Perkins. That's so. We're very much indebted to Yardsley. + +Yardsley. Never mind that. I enjoy the work very much. + +Perkins. So glad. (Aside.) I wonder when _we_ get a vote of +thanks? + +Bradley (looking at his watch). By Jove, Emma, it's after eleven! + +Mrs. Bradley. After eleven? Dear me! I had no idea it was as late +as that. How time flies when you are enjoying yourself! Really, +Edward, you ought not to have overlooked the time. You know-- + +Bradley. I supposed you knew we couldn't pull a house down in five +minutes. + +Perkins. What's become of the clock? + +Mrs. Perkins. I don't know. Who took the clock out? + +Barlow. I did. It's under the dining-room table. + +Mrs. Bradley. Well, we mustn't keep Bessie up another moment. Good- +night, my dear. We have had a delightful time. + +Mrs. Perkins. Good-night. I am sure we have enjoyed it. + +Perkins (aside). Oh yes, indeed; _we_ haven't had so much fun since +the children had the mumps. + +Yardsley. Well, so-long, Perkins. Thanks for your help. + +Perkins. By-by. + +Barlow. Good-night. + +Yardsley. Don't bother about fixing up to-night, Perkins. I'll be +around to-morrow evening and help put things in order again. + +[They all go out. The good-nights are repeated, and finally the +front door is closed. + +Re-enter Perkins, who falls dejectedly on the settee, followed by +Mrs. Perkins, who gives a rueful glance at the room. + +Perkins. I'm glad Yardsley's coming to fix us up again. I _never_ +could do it. + +Mrs. Perkins. Then I must. I can't ask Jennie to do it, she'd +discharge us at once, and I can't have my drawing-room left this way +over Sunday. + +Perkins (wearily). Oh, well, shall we do it now? + +Mrs. Perkins. No, you poor dear man; we'll stay home from church to- +morrow morning and do it. It won't be any harder work than reading +the Sunday newspapers. What have you there? + +Perkins (looking at two tickets he has abstracted from his vest- +pocket). Tickets for Irving--this evening--Lyons Mail--third row +from the stage. I was just thinking-- + +Mrs. Perkins. Don't tell me what you were thinking, my dear. It +can't be expressible in polite language. + +Perkins. You are wrong there, my dear. I wasn't thinking cuss-words +at all. I was only reflecting that we didn't miss much anyhow, under +the circumstances. + +Mrs. Perkins. Miss much? Why, Thaddeus, what _do_ you mean? + +Perkins. Nothing--only that for action continuous and situations +overpowering The Lyons Mail isn't a marker to an evening of +preparation for Amateur Dramatics. + +Enter Jennie. + +Jennie. Excuse me, mim, but the coachman says shall he wait any +longer? He's been there three hours now. + +[CURTAIN] + + + +THE FATAL MESSAGE + + + +CHARACTERS: + +MR. THADDEUS PERKINS, in charge of the curtain. +MRS. THADDEUS PERKINS, cast for Lady Ellen. +MISS ANDREWS, cast for the maid. +MR. EDWARD BRADLEY, an under-study. +MRS. EDWARD BRADLEY, cast for Lady Amaranth. +MR. ROBERT YARDSLEY, stage-manager. +MR. JACK BARLOW, cast for Fenderson Featherhead. +MR. CHESTER HENDERSON, an absentee. +JENNIE, a professional waitress. + +The scene is laid in the library of the Perkins mansion, on the +afternoon of the day upon which an amateur dramatic performance is to +be held therein. The Perkins house has been given over to the +dramatic association having the matter in charge. At right of +library a scenic doorway is hung. At left a drop-curtain is +arranged, behind which is the middle hall of the Perkins dwelling, +where the expected audience are to sit. The unoccupied wall spaces +are hung with paper-muslin. The apartment is fitted up generally to +resemble an English drawing-room; table and chair at centre. At rear +stands a painted-canvas conservatory entrance, on left of which is a +long oaken chest. The curtain rising discovers Mrs. Perkins giving a +few finishing touches to the scene, with Mr. Perkins gazing curiously +about the room. + +Perkins. Well, they've transformed this library into a scene of +bewitching beauty--haven't they? These paper-muslin walls are a +dream of loveliness. I suppose, as the possessor of all this, I +ought to be supremely happy--only I wish that canvas conservatory +door hadn't been tacked over my reference-books. I want to look up +some points about-- + +Mrs. Perkins. Oh, never mind your books, Thaddeus; it's only for one +night. Can't you take a minute's rest? + +Perkins. One night? I like that. It's been there two already, and +it's in for to-night, and all day to-morrow, I suppose. It'll take +all day to-morrow to clean up, I'll wager a hat. I'm beginning to +rue the hour I ever allowed the house of Perkins to be lured into the +drama. + +Mrs. Perkins. You're better off than I am. I've got to take part, +and I don't half know my lines. + +Perkins. I? I better off? I'd like to know if I haven't got to sit +out in front and watch you people fulfil your diabolical mission in +your doubly diabolical way, and grin at the fearful jokes in the +dialogue I've been listening to for weeks, and make the audience feel +that they are welcome when they're not. What's been done with my +desk? + +Mrs. Perkins. It's down in the laundry. You're about as-- + +Perkins. Oh, is it? Laundry is a nice place for a desk. Plenty of +starch handy to stiffen up a writer's nerve, and scrubbing-boards +galore to polish up his wits. And I suppose my papers are up in the +attic? + +Mrs. Perkins. No; they're stowed away safely in the nursery. Now +please don't complain! + +Perkins. Me? Complain? I never complain. I didn't say a word when +Yardsley had my Cruikshanks torn from their shelves and chucked into +a clothes-basket and carried into the butler's pantry, did I? Did I +say as much as one little word? I wanted to say one little word, I +admit, but I didn't. Did I? If I did, I withdraw it. I'm fond of +this sort of thing. The greatest joy in life is to be found in +arranging and rearranging a library, and I seem to be in for joy +enough to kill. What time are the--these amateur Thespians coming? + +Mrs. Perkins (looking at her watch). They're due now; it's half-past +four. (Sits down and opens play-book. Rehearses.) No, not for all +the world would I do this thing, Lord Muddleton. There is no need to +ask it of me. I am firm. I shall-- + +Perkins, Oh, let up, my dear! I've been getting that for breakfast, +dinner, and tea for two weeks now, and I'm awfully tired of it. When +I asked for a second cup of coffee at breakfast Sunday, you retorted, +"No, not for all the world would I do this thing, Lord Muddleton!" +When I asked you where my dress ties were, you informed me that it +was "what baseness," or words to that effect; and so on, until I +hardly know where I am at. (Catches sight of the chest.) Hello! +How did that happen to escape the general devastation? What are you +going to do with that oak chest? + +Mrs. Perkins. It is for the real earl to hide in just before he +confronts Muddleton with the evidence of his crime. + +Perkins. But--that holds all my loose prints, Bess. By Jove! I +can't have that, you know. You amateur counterfeiters have got to +understand just one thing. I'll submit to the laundering of my +manuscripts, the butler's-pantrying of my Cruikshanks, but I'll be +hanged if I'll allow even a real earl, much less a base imitation of +one, to wallow in my engravings. + +Mrs. Perkins. You needn't worry about your old engravings. They're +perfectly safe, I've put them in the Saratoga trunk in the attic. +(Rehearsing.) And if you ask it of me once again, I shall have to +summon my servants to have you shown the door. Henry Cobb is the +friend of my girlhood, and-- + +Perkins. Henry Cobb be-- + +Mrs. Perkins. Thaddeus! + +Perkins. I don't care, Bess, if Henry Cobb was the only friend you +ever had. I object to having my prints dumped into a Saratoga trunk +in order that he may confront Muddleton and regain the lost estates +of Puddingford by hiding in my chest. A gay earl Yardsley makes, +anyhow; and as for Barlow, he looks like an ass in that yellow- +chrysanthemum wig. No man with yellow hair like that could track +such a villain as Henderson makes Muddleton out to be. Fact is, +Henderson is the only decent part of the show. + +Mrs. Perkins (rehearsing). What if he is weak? Then shall I still +more strongly show myself his friend. Poor? Does not-- + +Perkins. Oh, I suppose it does--(Bell rings.) There comes this +apology for a real earl, I fancy. I'll let him in myself. I suppose +Jennie has got as much as she can do sweeping my manuscripts out of +the laundry, and keeping my verses from scorching the wash. [Exit. + +Mrs. Perkins. It's too bad of Thaddeus to go on like this. As if I +hadn't enough to worry me without a cross husband to manage. Heigho! + +Enter Perkins with Yardsley. Yardsley holds bicycle cap in hand. + +Yardsley. By Jove! I'm tired. Everything's been going wrong to- +day. Overslept myself, to begin with, and somebody stole my hat at +the club, and left me this bicycle cap in its place. How are you +getting along, Mrs. Perkins? You weren't letter perfect yesterday, +you know. + +Mrs. Perkins. I'm getting it all right, I think. I've been +rehearsing all day. + +Perkins. You bet your life on that, Henry Cobb, real Earl of +Puddingford. If you aren't restored to your estates and title this +night, it won't be for any lack of suffering on my part. Give me +your biking cap, unless you want to use it in the play. I'll hang it +up. [Exit. + +Yardsley. Thanks. (Looks about the room.) Everything here seems to +be right. + +Perkins returns. + +Mrs. Perkins (rehearsing). And henceforth, my lord, let us +understand one another. + +Perkins. Certainly, my dear. I'll go and have myself translated. +Would you prefer me in French, German, or English? + +Yardsley. I hope it goes all right to-night. But, I must say, I +don't like the prospect. This beastly behavior of Henderson's has +knocked me out. + +Perkins. What's the matter with Henderson? + +Mrs. Perkins. He hasn't withdrawn, has he? + +Yardsley. That's just what he has done. He sent me word this +morning. + +Mrs. Perkins. But what excuse does he offer? At the last moment, +too! + +Yardsley. None at all--absolutely. There was some airy persiflage +in his note about having to go to Boston at six o'clock. +Grandmother's sick or something. He writes so badly I couldn't make +out whether she was rich or sick. I fancy it's a little of both. +Possibly if she wasn't rich he wouldn't care so much when she fell +ill. That's the trouble with these New-Englanders, anyhow--they've +always got grandmothers to fall down at crucial moments. Next time I +go into this sort of thing it'll be with a crowd without known +ancestors. + +Perkins. 'Tisn't Chet's fault, though. You don't suspect him of +having poisoned his grandmother just to get out of playing, do you? + +Mrs. Perkins. Oh, Thaddeus, do be serious! + +Perkins. I was never more so, my dear. Poisoning one's grandmother +is no light crime. + +Yardsley. Well, I've a notion that the whole thing is faked up. +Henderson has an idea that he's a little tin Booth, and just because +I called him down the other night at our first rehearsal he's mad. +That's the milk in the cocoanut, I think. He's one of those fellows +you can't tell anything to, and when I kicked because he wore a white +tie with a dinner coat, he got mad and said he was going to dress the +part his own way or not at all. + +Perkins. I think he was right. + +Yardsley. Oh yes, of course I'm never right. What am I stage- +manager for? + +Perkins. Oh, as for that, of course, you are the one in authority, +but you were wrong about the white tie and the dinner coat. He was a +bogus earl, an adventurer, wasn't he? + +Yardsley. Yes, he was, but-- + +Perkins. Well, no real earl would wear a white tie with a dinner +coat unless he were visiting in America. I grant you that if he were +going to a reception in New York he might wear a pair of golf +trousers with a dinner coat, but in this instance his dress simply +showed his bogusity, as it were. He merely dressed the part. + +Yardsley. He doesn't want to make it too plain, however, so I was +right after all. His villany is to come as a painful surprise. + +Mrs. Perkins. But what are we to do? Have you got anybody else to +take his part? + +Yardsley. Yes. I telegraphed right off to Bradley, explained as far +as I could in a telegram without using all the balance in the +treasury, and he answered all right. Said he'd bone at the part all +day, and would be here at five letter perfect. + +Mrs. Perkins (with a sigh of relief). Good. He's very quick at +learning a thing. I imagine it will be all right. I've known him to +learn a harder part than that in five hours. It'll be pleasanter for +Emma, too. She didn't like those scenes she had as Lady Amaranth the +adventuress with Henderson. He kept her off the middle of the stage +all the time; but with her husband it will be different. + +Perkins. I'll bet on that! No good-natured husband of a new women +ever gets within a mile of the centre of the stage while she's on it. +She'll have stage room to burn in her scenes with Brad. + +Mrs. Perkins. I think it was awfully mean of Mr. Henderson, though. + +Yardsley. Disgusting. + +Perkins. It was inconsiderate. So hard on his grandmother, too, to +be compelled to knock under just to get him out of a disagreeble +situation. She ought to disinherit him. + +Yardsley. Oh, it's easy enough to be sarcastic. + +Perkins. That's so, Bob; that's why I never am. It's commonplace. +(Bell rings.) Ah, there's the rest of the troupe, I guess. [Exit. + +Yardsley (looking at his watch). It's about time. They're twenty +minutes late. + +Mrs. Perkins (rehearsing). So once for all, Lord Muddleton-- +(derisively)--ha, ha! Lord Muddleton! that _is_ amusing. You--Lord +Muddleton! Ha, ha! Once for all, Lord Muddleton. I acquaint you +with my determination. I shall not tell Henry Cobb what I have +discovered, since I have promised, but none the less he shall know. +Walls have ears--even that oaken chest by yinder wonder-- + +Yardsley (irritated). Excuse me, Mrs. Perkins; but really you must +get that phrase right. You've called it yinder wonder at every +rehearsal we've had so far. I know it's difficult to get right. +Yonder window is one of those beastly combinations that playwrights +employ to make the Thespian's pathway to fame a rocky one; but you +must get over it, and say it right. Practise it for an hour, if need +be--yonder window, yonder winder--I mean, yonder window--until it +comes easy. + +Mrs. Perkins (meekly). I have, and it doesn't seem to do any good. +I've tried and tried to get it right, but yonder window is all I can +say. + +Yardsley. But yinder window is--I should say, yonder window is +correct. + +Mrs. Perkins. Well, I'm just going to change it, that's all. It +shall be yonder casement. + +Yardsley. Good idea. Only don't say yonder basement by mistake. + +Enter Perkins, followed by Barlow. + +Perkins. Here's Mr. Featherhead. He's rehearsing too. As I opened +the door he said, "Give me good-morrow." + +Barlow (smiling). Yes; and Thaddeus replied, "Good-yesterday, me +friend," in tones which reminded me of Irving with bronchitis. +What's this I hear about Henderson's grandmother? + +Yardsley. Thrown up the part. + +Barlow. His grandmother? + +Yardsley. No--idiot--Henderson. He's thrown up his grandmother--oh, +hang it!--you know what I mean. + +Mrs. Perkins. I hope you're not going to net gervous, Mr. Yardsley. +If you break down, what on earth will become of the rest of us? + +Yardsley. I hope not--but I am. I'm as nervous as a cat living its +ninth life. Here we are three or four hours before the performance, +and no one knows whether we'll be able to go through it or not. My +reputation as a manager is at stake. Barlow, how are you getting +along on those lines in the revelation scene? + +Barlow. Had 'em down fine on the cable-car as I came up. Ha-ha! +People thought I was crazy, I guess. I was so full of it I kept +repeating it softly to myself all the way up; but when we got to that +Fourteenth Street curve the car gave a fearful lurch and fairly shook +the words "villanous viper" out of me; and as I was standing when we +began the turn, and was left confronting a testy old gentleman upon +whose feet I had trodden twice, at the finish, I nearly got into +trouble. + +Perkins (wish a laugh). Made a scene, eh? + +Barlow (joining in the laugh). Who wouldn't? Each time I stepped on +his foot he glared--regular Macbeth stare--like this: "Is this a +jagger which I see before me?" (Suits action to word.) But I never +let on I saw, but continued to rehearse. When the lurch came, +however, and I toppled over on top of him, grabbed his shoulders in +my hands to keep from sprawling in his lap, and hissed "villanous +viper" in his face, he was inclined to resent it forcibly. + +Yardsley. I don't blame him. Seems to me a man of your intelligence +ought to know better than to rehearse on a cable-car, anyhow, to say +nothing of stepping on a man's corns. + +Barlow. Of course I apologized; but he was a persistent old codger, +and demanded an explanation of my epithet. + +Perkins. It's a wonder he didn't have you put off. A man doesn't +like to be insulted even if he does ride on the cable. + +Barlow. Oh, I appeased him. I told him I was rehearsing. That I +was an amateur actor. + +Mrs. Perkins. And of course he was satisfied. + +Barlow. Yes; at least I judge so. He said that my confession was +humiliation enough, without his announcing to the public what he +thought I was; and he added, to the man next him, that he thought the +public was exposed to enough danger on the cable cars without having +lunatics thrust upon them at every turning. + +Perkins. He must have been a bright old man. + +Mrs. Perkins. Or a very crabbed old person. + +Barlow. Oh, well, it was an experience, but it rather upset me, and +for the life of me I haven't been able to remember the opening lines +of the scene since. + +Perkins. Well, if the audience drive you off the stage, you can sue +the cable company. They ought to be careful how they lurch a man's +brains out. + +Yardsley. That's right--joke ahead. It's fun for you. All you've +got to do is to sit out in front and pull the curtain up and down +when we ring a bell. You're a great one to talk about brains, you +are. It's a wonder to me you don't swoon under your responsibility. + +Mrs. Perkins (rehearsing). So once for all, as he says, so say I-- + +Perkins. Ah! Indeed! You take his part, do you? + +Mrs. Perkins (rehearsing). You must leave this house at once and +forever. I once thought I loved you, but now all is changed, and I +take this opportunity to thank my deliverer, Fenderson Featherhead-- + +Perkins. Oh--ah--rehearsing. I see. I thought you'd gone over to +the enemy, my dear. Featherhead, step up and accept the lady's +thanks. Cobb, join me in the dining room, and we'll drown our +differences in tasting the punch, which, between you and me, is +likely to be the best part of to-night's function, for I made it +myself though, if Tom Harkaway is in the audience, and Bess follows +out her plan of having the flowing bowl within reach all the evening, +I'm afraid it'll need an under-study along about nine o'clock. He's +a dry fellow, that Harkaway. + +[Exit Perkins, dragging Yardsley by the arm. + +Barlow (calling after them). Don't you touch it, Bob. It's potent +stuff. One glass may postpone the performance. + +Yardsley (from behind the scenes). Never fear for me, my boy. I've +got a head, I have. + +Barlow. Well, don't get another. (Turning to Mrs. Perkins.) +Suppose we rehearse that scene where I acquaint you with Cobb's real +position in life? + +Mrs. Perkins. Very well. I'm ready. I'm to sit here, am I not? +[Seats herself by table. + +Barlow. And I come in here. (Begins.) Ah, Lady Ellen, I am glad to +find you alone, for I have that to say-- + +Mrs. Perkins. Won't you be seated, Mr. Featherhead? It was such a +delightful surprise to see you at the Duchess of Barncastle's last +evening. I had supposed you still in Ireland. + +Barlow (aside). Good. She little thinks that I have just returned +from Australia, where I have at last discovered the identity of the +real Earl of Puddingford, as well as that of this bogus Muddleton, +who, by his nefarious crime, has deprived Henry Cobb of his +patrimony, of his title, aye, even of his name. She little wots that +this--this adventurer who has so strongly interested her by his +nepotic-- + +Mrs. Perkins (interrupting). Hypnotic, Mr. Barlow. + +Barlow. What did I say? + +Mrs. Perkins. Nepotic. + +Barlow. How stupid of me! I'll begin again. + +Mrs. Perkins (desperately). Oh, pray don't. Go on from where you +left off. That's a fearfully long aside, anyhow, and I go nearly +crazy every time you say it. I don't know what to do with myself. +It's easy enough for Mr. Yardsley to say occupy yourself somehow, but +what I want to know is, how? I can't look inquiringly at you all +that time, waiting for you to say "Ireland! Oh, yes--yes--just over +from Dublin." I can't lean against the mantel-piece and gaze into +the fire, because the mantel-piece is only canvas, and would fall +down if I did. + +Barlow. It's a long aside, Mrs. Perkins, but it's awfully important, +and I don't see how we can cut it down. It's really the turning- +point of the play, in which I reveal the true state of affairs to the +audience. + +Mrs. Perkins (with a sigh). I suppose that's true. I'll have to +stand it. But can't I be doing some sewing? + +Barlow. Certainly not. You are the daughter of a peer. They never +sew. You might be playing a piano, but there's hardly room on the +stage for that, and, besides, it would interfere with my aside, which +needs a hush to be made impressive. Where did I leave off? + +Mrs. Perkins. Hypnotic power. + +Barlow. Oh yes. (Resumes rehearsing.) She little wots that this-- +this adventurer who has so strangely interested her with his hypnotic +power is the man who twenty years ago forged her father's name to the +title-deeds of Burnington, drove him to his ruin, and subsequently, +through a likeness so like as to bewilder and confuse even a mother's +eyes, has forced the rightful Earl of Puddingford out into a cruel +world, to live and starve as Henry Cobb. + +[Bell. + +Mrs. Perkins. Ah, I fancy the Bradleys are here at last. I do hope +Edward knows his part. + +Enter Yardsley. + +Yardsley. They've come, and we can begin at last. + +Enter Perkins, Miss Andrews, and Mr. and Mrs. Bradley. + +Mrs. Perkins. Take off your things, Emma. Let me take your cloak, +Dorothy. Does Edward feel equal-- + +Mrs. Bradley. He says so. Knows it word for word, he says, though +I've been so busy with my own--[They go out talking. + +Yardsley. Well, Brad, how goes it? Know your part? + +Bradley. Like a book. Bully part, too. + +Barlow. Glad you like it. + +Bradley. Can't help liking it; it's immense! Particularly where I +acquaint the heroine with the villany that-- + +Barlow. You? Why-- + +Enter Mrs. Bradley, Miss Andrews, and Mrs. Perkins. + +Mrs. Perkins (to Bradley). So glad you're going to play with us. + +Bradley. So am I. It's a great pleasure. Felt rather out in the +cold until-- + +Barlow. But, I say, Brad, you don't-- + +Yardsley. Howdy do, Mrs. Bradley? Good-afternoon, Miss Andrews. We +all seem to be here now, so let's begin. We're a half-hour late +already. + +Barlow. I'm ready, but I want to-- + +Yardsley. Never mind what you want, Jack. We haven't time for any +more talking. It'll take us an hour and a half, and we've got to +hustle. All off stage now except Mrs. Perkins. (All go out; +Yardsley rings bell.) Hi, Perkins, that's your cue! + +Perkins. What for? + +Yardsley. Oh, hang it!--raise the curtain, will you? + +Perkins. With pleasure. As I understand this thing, one bell +signifies raise curtain when curtain's down; drop curtain when +curtain is up. + +Yardsley. Exactly. You know your part, anyhow. If you remember not +to monkey with the curtain except when the bell rings, and then +change its condition, no matter what it may be, you can't go wrong. +Now begin. (Bell. Perkins raises curtain.) Now, of course, I'm not +supposed to be on the stage, but I'll stay here and prompt you. +Enter Lady Ellen. Come along, Mrs. Perkins. Please begin. + +Mrs. Perkins. I thought we'd decided that I was to be sitting here +when the curtain went up? + +Yardsley. So we did. I'd forgotten that.--We'll begin all over +again. Perkins, drop that curtain. Perkins! + +Perkins. What? + +Yardsley. Drop the curtain. + +Perkins. Where's the bell? I didn't hear any bell ring. + +Yardsley. Oh, never mind the bell! Let her down. + +Perkins. I beg your pardon, but I positively refuse. I believe in +doing things right. I'm not going to monkey. Ring that bell, and +down she comes; otherwise-- + +Yardsley. Tut! You are very tiresome this afternoon, Thaddeus. +Mrs. Perkins, we'll go ahead without dropping the curtain. Now take +your place. + +[Mrs. Perkins seats herself by table, picks up a book, and begins to +read. + +Mrs. Perkins (after an interval, throwing book down with a sigh). +Heigho! I cannot seem to concentrate my mind upon anything to-night. +I wonder why it is that once a woman gives her heart into another's +keeping--[Bell rings. Perkins lets curtain drop. + +Yardsley. What the deuce did you drop that curtain for, Thaddeus? + +Perkins. The bell rang, didn't it? + +Yardsley. Yes, you idiot, but that's supposed to be the front-door +bell. Lady Amaranth is about to arrive-- + +Perkins. Well, how was I to know? Your instructions to me were +positive. Don't monkey with curtain till bell rings. When bell +rings, if down, pull her up; if up, pull her down. I'm not a +connoisseur on bells-- + +Yardsley. You might pay some attention to the play. + +Perkins. Now look here, Bob. I don't want to quarrel with you, but +it seems to me that I've got enough to do without paying attention to +your part of the show. What am I? First place, host; second place, +head usher; third place, curtain-manager; fourth place, fire +department; fifth place, Bess says if children holler, go up and see +what's the matter other words, nurse--and on top of this you say keep +an eye on the play. You must think I've as many eyes as a +President's message. + +Mrs. Perkins. Oh dear, Teddy! do behave. It's simple enough-- + +Perkins. Simple enough? Well, I like that. How am I to tell one +bell from another if-- + +Yardsley (dryly). I suppose if the clock strikes ten you'll seesaw +the curtain up and down ten times, once for each stroke--eh? + +Bradley (poking his head in at the door). What's the matter in here? +Emma's been waiting for her cue like a hundred-yards runner before +the pistol. + +Perkins. Oh, it's the usual trouble with Yardsley. He wants me to +chaperon the universe. + +Yardsley. It's the usual row with you. You never want to do +anything straight. You seem to think that curtain's an elevator, and +you're the boy--yanking it up and down at your pleasure, and-- + +Mrs. Perkins. Oh, please don't quarrel! Can't you see, Ted, it's +growing late? We'll never have the play rehearsed, and it's barely +three hours now before the audience will arrive. + +Perkins. Very well--I'll give in--only I think you ought to have +different bells-- + +Yardsley. I'll have a trolley-car gong for you, if it'll only make +you do the work properly. Have you got a bicycle bell? + +Mrs. Perkins. Yes; that will do nicely for the curtain, and the desk +push-button bell will do for the front-door bell. Have you got that +in your mind, Teddy dear? + +Perkins. I feel as if I had the whole bicycle in my mind. I can +feel the wheels. Bike for curtain, push for front door. That's all +right. I wouldn't mind pushing for the front door myself. All +ready? All right. In the absence of the bicycle bell, I'll be its +under-study for once. B-r-r-r-r-r-r-r! [Raises curtain. + +Yardsley. Now, Mrs. Perkins, begin with "I wonder why--" + +Mrs. Perkins (rehearsing). I wonder why it is that once a woman +gives her heart into another's keeping--(Bell.) Ah, the bell. It +must be he at last. He is late this evening. + +Enter Miss Andrews as maid, with card on tray. + +Miss Andrews. Lady Amaranth, me luddy. + +Yardsley. Lydy, Miss Andrews, lydy--not luddy. + +Miss Andrews. Lydy Amaranth, me lady. + +Yardsley. And please be consistent with your dialect. If it's Lydy +Amaranth, it's Lydy Ellen. + +Miss Andrews. Lydy Amaranth, me lydy. + +Mrs. Perkins. What? Lydy Amaranth? She? + +Yardsley. Oh dear! Excuse me, Mrs. Perkins, but you are not the +maid, and cockney isn't required of you. You must not say lydy. +Lady is-- + +Mrs. Perkins (resignedly). What? Lady Amaranth? She? What can she +want? Show her up. [Exit Miss Andrews. + +Perkins. That's a first-class expression for an adventuress. _Show +her up_! Gad! She ought to be shown up. + +Mrs. Perkins. What can she want? + +Enter Mrs. Bradley. + +Mrs. Bradley. Ah, my dear Lady Ellen! What delight to find you at +home! (Aside.) He is not here, and yet I could have sworn-- + +Mrs. Perkins. To what am I to attribute this pleasure, Lady +Amaranth? I do not presume to think that you have come here without +some other motive than that of a mere desire to see me. I do not +suppose that even you pretend that since the contretemps of Tuesday +night at the Duchess of Barncastle's our former feeling-- + +Mrs. Bradley. Ellen, I have come to tell you something. To save you +from a vile conspiracy. + +Mrs. Perkins. I am quite well able, Lady Amaranth, to manage my own +affairs-- + +Mrs. Bradley. But you do not know. You love Lord Muddleton-- + +Mrs. Perkins (toying with her fan). Oh! Indeed! And who, pray, has +taken you into my confidence? I was not aware-- + +Mrs. Bradley. Hear me, Ellen-- + +Mrs. Perkins. Excuse me, Lady Amaranth! but you have forgotten that +it is only to my friends that I am known as-- + +Mrs. Bradley. Then Lady Ellen, if it must be so. I know what you do +not--that Henry Cobb is an escaped convent-- + +Yardsley. Convict, not convent. + +Mrs. Bradley. Is an escaped convict, and-- + +Mrs. Perkins. I am not interested in Henry Cobb. + +Mrs. Bradley. But he is in you, Ellen Abercrombie. He is in you, +and with the aid of Fenderson Featherhead-- + +[Bell. Perkins lets curtain drop half-way, but remembers in time, +and pulls it up again. + +Perkins. Beg pardon. String slipped. + +Mrs. Bradley. Too late. Oh, if he had only waited! + +Enter Miss Andrews. + +Miss Andrews. Mr. Featherhead, Leddy Eilen. + +Yardsley. Ellen, Ellen; and lydy, not leddy. + +Mrs. Bradley. Hear me first, I beg. + +Mrs. Perkins. Show him in, Mary. Lady Amaranth, as you see, I am +engaged. I really must be excused. Good-night. + +Mrs. Bradley (aside). Foiled! Muddleton will be exposed. Ah, if I +could only have broken the force of the blow! (Aloud.) Lady Ellen, +I will speak. Fenderson Featherhead-- + +Enter Bradley and Barlow together. Both. Is here, Lady Amaranth. + +[Each tries to motion the other off the stage. + +Yardsley. What the deuce does this mean? What do you think this +play is--an Uncle Tom combination with two Topsys? + +Barlow. I told him to keep out, but he said that Fenderson +Featherhead was his cue. + +Bradley (indignantly). Well, so it is; there's the book. + +Yardsley. Oh, nonsense, Brad! Don't be idiotic. The book doesn't +say anything of the sort. + +Bradley. But I say it does. If you-- + +Barlow. It's all rot for you to behave like this, Bradley. + +Perkins. Isn't it time something happened to the curtain? The +audience will get panicky if they witness any such lack of harmony as +this. I will draw a veil over the painful scene. B-r-r-r-r. (Drops +curtain.) B-r-r-r-r. + +[Raises it again. + +Yardsley. We won't dispute the matter, Bradley. You are wrong, and +that's all there is about it. Now do get off the stage and let us go +ahead. Perkins, for Heaven's sake, give that curtain a rest, will +you? + +Perkins. I was only having a dress-rehearsal on my own account, Bob. +Bike bell, curtain. Push bell, front door. Trolley gong, nothing-- + +Bradley. Well, if you fellows won't-- + +Yardsley (taking him by the arm and walking him to side of stage). +Never mind, Brad; you've made a mistake, that's all. We all make +mistakes at times. Get off, like a good fellow. You don't come on +for ten minutes yet. (Exit Bradley, scratching his head in puzzled +meditation.) Go ahead now, Barlow. + +Mrs. Bradley. But, Mr. Yardsley, Edward has-- + +Yardsley. We'll begin with your cue. + +Mrs. Bradley. Fenderson Featherhead-- + +Barlow. Is here, Lady Amaranth. + +Mrs. Bradley. But-- + +Yardsley. No, no! Your word isn't "but," Mrs. Bradley. It's +(consulting book)--it's: "Insolent! You will cross my path once too +often, and then-- + +Enter Bradley. + +Mrs. Bradley. I know that, but I don't say that to him! + +Bradley. Of course not. She says it to me. + +Barlow. Well, of all the stupidity-- + +Perkins. Another unseemly fracas. Another veil. B-r-r-r-r. (Drops +curtain.) There may be a hitch in the play, but there won't be in +this curtain. I tell you that right now. B-r-r-r-r. + +[Raises curtain. + +Mrs. Perkins. Well, I don't pretend to understand the difficulty. +She certainly does say that to Featherhead. + +Barlow. Of course!--it's right there in the book. + +Bradley. That's exactly what I say. It's in the book; but you would +come on. + +Barlow. Well, why shouldn't I? + +Enter Miss Andrews. + +Miss Andrews. What seems to be the trouble? + +Perkins. I give it up. Collision somewhere up the road. + +Yardsley (turning over the leaves of the play-book). Oh, I see the +trouble--it's all right. Bradley is mixed up a little, that's all. +"Fenderson Featherhead" is his cue--but it comes later, Brad. + +Bradley. Later? Well (glances in book)--no--it comes now, + +Barlow. Are you blind? Can you read? See there! [Points into +book. + +Yardsley. No--you keep still, Jack. I'll fix it. See here, +Bradley. This is the place you are thinking of. When Cobb says to +Lady Ellen "Fenderson Featherhead," you enter the room, and in a +nervous aside you mutter: "What, he! Does he again dare to cross my +path?" That's the way of it. + +Barlow. Certainly--that's it, Brad. Now get off, and let me go on, +will you? + +Mrs. Perkins. I'm sure it's a perfectly natural error, Mr. Bradley. + +Mrs. Bradley. But he's right, my dear Bess. The others are wrong. +Edward doesn't-- + +Bradley. I don't care anything about it, but I'm sure I don't know +what else to do. If I am to play Fenderson-- + +Barlow (in amazement). You? + +Yardsley (aghast). Fenderson? By all that is lovely, what part have +you learned? + +Bradley. The one you told me to learn in your message--Featherhead, +of course. + +Barlow. But that's my part! + +Mrs. Perkins. Of course it is, Mr. Bradley. Mr. Barlow is to be-- + +Mrs. Bradley. But that's what Edward was told. I saw the message +myself. + +Yardsley (sinking into a chair dejectedly). Why, Ed Bradley! I +never mentioned Featherhead. You were to be Muddleton! + +Bradley. Me? + +Mrs. Bradley. What? + +Yardsley. Certainly. There's nothing the matter with Barlow, and +he's cast for Featherhead. You've learned the wrong part! + +Bradley (searching his pockets). Here's the telegram. There (takes +message from pocket), read that. There are my instructions. + +Yardsley (grasps telegram and reads it. Drops it to floor). Well, +I'll be jiggered! + +[Buries his face in his hands. + +Mrs. Perkins (picking up message and reading aloud). "Can you take +Fenderson's part in to-night's show? Answer at once. Yardsley." + +Barlow. Well, that's a nice mess. You must have paresis, Bob. + +Perkins. I was afraid he'd get it sooner or later. You need +exercise, Yardsley. Go pull that curtain up and down a half-dozen +times and it'll do you good. + +Bradley. That telegram lets me out. + +Mrs. Bradley. I should say so. + +Perkins. Lets us all out, seems to me. + +Yardsley. But--I wrote Henderson, not Fenderson. That jackass of a +telegraph operator is responsible for it all. "Will you take +Henderson's part?" is what I wrote, and he's gone and got it +Fenderson. Confound his-- + +Mrs. Perkins. But what are we going to do? It's quarter-past six +now, and the curtain is to rise at 8.30. + +Perkins. I'll give 'em my unequalled imitation of Sandow lifting the +curtain with one hand. Thus. [Raises curtain wish right hand. + +Yardsley. For goodness' sake, man, be serious. There are seventy- +five people coming here to see this performance, and they've paid for +their tickets. + +Mrs. Perkins. It's perfectly awful. We can't do it at all unless +Mr. Bradley will go right up stairs now and learn-- + +Mrs. Bradley. Oh, that's impossible. He's learned nearly three +hundred lines to-day already. Mr. Barlow might-- + +Barlow. I couldn't think of it, Mrs. Bradley. I've got as much as I +can do remembering what lines I have learned. + +Perkins. It would take you a week to forget your old part completely +enough to do the other well. You'd be playing both parts, the way +Irving does when he's irritated, before you knew it. + +Yardsley. I'm sure I don't know what to do. + +Perkins. Give it up, eh? What are you stage-manager for? If I +didn't own the house, I'd suggest setting it on fire; but I do, and +it isn't fully insured. + +Mrs. Perkins. Perhaps Miss Andrews and Mr. Yardsley could do their +little scene from Romeo and Juliet. + +Mrs. Bradley. Just the thing. + +Yardsley. But I haven't a suitable costume. + +Perkins. I'll lend you my golf trousers, and Bess has an old shirt- +waist you could wear with 'em. Piece it out a little so that you +could get into it, and hang the baby's toy sword at your side, and +carry his fireman's hat under your arm, and you'd make a dandy- +looking Romeo. Some people might think you were a new woman, but if +somebody were to announce to the audience that you were not that, but +the Hon. R. Montague, Esq., it would be all right and exceedingly +amusing. I'll do the announcing with the greatest of pleasure. +Really think I'd enjoy it. + +Miss Andrews. I think it would be much better to get up Mrs. +Jarley's waxworks. + +Perkins. Oh dear, Miss Andrews, never. Mrs. Jarley awakens too many +bitter memories in me. I was Mrs. Jarley once, and-- + +Yardsley. It must have been awful. If there is anything in life +that could be more horrible than you, with your peculiar style of +humor, trying to do Jarley, I-- + +Perkins. Oh, well, what's the odds what we do? We're only amateurs, +anyhow. Yardsley can put on a pair of tight boots, and give us an +impression of Irving, or perhaps an imitation of the Roman army at +the battle of Philippi, and the audience wouldn't care, as long as +they had a good supper afterwards. It all rests with Martenelli +whether it's a go to-night. If he doesn't spoil the supper, it'll be +all right. I have observed that the principal factors of success at +amateur dramatics are an expert manipulation of the curtain, and a +first-class feed to put the audience in a good-humor afterwards. +Even if Martenelli does go back on us, you'll have me with the +curtain-- + +Mrs. Perkins. Thaddeus! + +Yardsley. By Jove! that's a good idea--we have got you. You can +read Henderson's part! + +Perkins. What--I? + +Barlow. Certainly. + +Bradley. Just the very thing. + +Miss Andrews. Splendid idea. + +Perkins. Oh--but I say--I can't, you know. Nonsense! I can't read. + +Yardsley. I've often suspected that you couldn't, my dear Thaddeus; +but this time you must. + +Perkins. But the curtain--the babies--the audience--the ushing--the +fire department--it is too much. I'm not an octopus. + +Barlow (taking him by the arm and pushing him into chair). You can't +get out of it, Ted. Here--read up. There--take my book. + +[Thrusts play-book into his hand. + +Bradley. Here's mine, too, Thaddeus. Read 'em both at once, and +then you'll have gone over it twice. + +[Throws his book into Perkins's lap. + +Perkins. I tell you-- + +Mrs. Perkins. Just this once, Teddy--please--for me. + +Yardsley. You owe it to your position, Perkins. You are the only +man here that knows anything about anything. You've frequently said +so. You were doing it all, anyhow, you know--and you're host--the +audience are your guests--and you're so clever and-- + +Perkins. But-- + +Enter Jennie. + +Jennie. Dinner is served, ma'am. [Exit. + +Yardsley. Good! Perk, I'll be your under-study at dinner, while you +are studying up. Ladies and gentlemen, kindly imagine that I am +host, that Perkins does not exist. Come along, Mrs. Bradley. Miss +Andrews, will you take my other arm? I'll escort Lady Amaranth and +the maid out. We'll leave the two Featherheads to fight it out for +the Lady Ellen. By-by, Thaddeus; don't shirk. I'll come in after +the salade course and hear you, and if you don't know your lesson +I'll send you to bed without your supper. + +[All go out, leaving Perkins alone. + +Perkins (forcing a laugh). Ha! ha! ha! Good joke, confound your +eyes! Humph! very well. I'll do it. Whole thing, eh? Curtain, +babies, audience, host. All right, my noble Thespians, wait! +(Shakes fist at the door.) I _will_ do the whole thing. Wait till +they ring you up, O curtain! Up you will go, but then--then will I +come forth and read that book from start to finish, and if any one of +'em ventures to interfere I'll drop thee on their most treasured +lines. They little dream how much they are in the power of you and +me! + +Enter Jennie. + +Jennie. Mrs. Perkins says aren't you coming to dinner, sir; and Mr. +Yardsley says the soup is getting cold, sir. + +Perkins. In a minute, Jennie. Tell Mrs. Perkins that I am just +learning the last ten lines of the third act; and as for Mr. +Yardsley, kindly insinuate to him that he'll find the soup quite hot +enough at 8.30. + +[Exit Jennie. Perkins sits down, and, taking up two books of the +play, one in each hand, begins to read. + +[CURTAIN] + + + +A PROPOSAL UNDER DIFFICULTIES + + + +CHARACTERS: + +ROBERT YARDSLEY, } suitors for the hand of Miss Andrews. +JACK BARLOW, } +DOROTHY ANDREWS, a much-loved young woman. +JENNIE, a housemaid. +HICKS, a coachman, who does not appear. + +The scene is laid in a fashionable New York drawing-room. The time +is late in October, and Wednesday afternoon. The curtain rising +shows an empty room. A bell rings. After a pause the front door is +heard opening and closing. Enter Yardsley through portiere at rear +of room. + +Yardsley. Ah! So far so good; but I wish it were over. I've had +the nerve to get as far as the house and into it, but how much +further my courage will carry me I can't say. Confound it! Why is +it, I wonder, that men get so rattled when they're head over heels in +love, and want to ask the fair object of their affections to wed? I +can't see. Now I'm brave enough among men. I'm not afraid of +anything that walks, except Dorothy Andrews, and generally I'm not +afraid of her. Stopping runaway teams and talking back to impudent +policemen have been my delight. I've even been courageous enough to +submit a poem in person to the editor of a comic weekly, and yet here +this afternoon I'm all of a tremble. And for what reason? Just +because I've co-come to ask Dorothy Andrews to change her name to +Mrs. Bob Yardsley; as if that were such an unlikely thing for her to +do. Gad! I'm almost inclined to despise myself. (Surveys himself +in the mirror at one end of the room. Then walking up to it and +peering intently at his reflection, he continues.) Bah! you coward! +Afraid of a woman--a sweet little woman like Dorothy. You ought to +be ashamed of yourself, Bob Yardsley. _She_ won't hurt you. Brace +up and propose like a man--like a real lover who'd go through fire +for her sake, and all that. Ha! That's easy enough to talk about, +but how shall I put it? That's the question. Let me see. How _do_ +men do it? I ought to buy a few good novels and select the sort of +proposal I like; but not having a novel at hand, I must invent my +own. How will it be? Something like this, I fancy. (The portieres +are parted, and Jennie, the maid, enters. Yardsley does not observe +her entrance.) I'll get down on my knees. A man on his knees is a +pitiable object, and pity, they say, is akin to love. Maybe she'll +pity me, and after that--well, perhaps pity's cousin will arrive. +(The maid advances, but Yardsley is so intent upon his proposal that +he still fails to observe her. She stands back of the sofa, while +he, gazing downward, kneels before it.) I'll say: "Divine creature! +At last we are alone, and I--ah--I can speak freely the words that +have been in my heart to say to you for so long--oh, so long a time." +(Jennie appears surprised.) "I have never even hinted at how I feel +towards you. I have concealed my love, fearing lest by too sudden a +betrayal of my feelings I should lose all." (Aside.) Now for a +little allusion to the poets. Poetry, they say, is a great thing for +proposals. "You know, dearest, you must know, how the poet has +phrased it--'Fain would I fall but that I fear to climb.' But now-- +now I must speak. An opportunity like this may not occur again. +Will you--will you be my wife?" + +[Jennie gives a little scream of delight. + +Jennie. Oh, Mr. Yardsley, this is so suddent like and unexpected, +and me so far beneath you! + +[Yardsley looks up and is covered with confusion. + +Yardsley. Great Scott! What have I done? + +Jennie. But of course it ain't for the likes of me to say no to-- + +Yardsley (rising). For Heaven's sake, Jennie--do be sensi--Don't-- +say--Jennie, why--ah--(Aside.) Oh, confound it! What the deuce +shall I say? What's the matter with my tongue? Where's my +vocabulary? A word! a word! my kingdom for a word! (Aloud.) Now, +Jen-- + +Jennie (coyly). I has been engaged to Mr. Hicks, the coach +gentleman, sir, but-- + +Yardsley. Good! good! I congratulate you, Jennie. Hicks is a very +fine fellow. Drives like a--like a driver, Jennie, a born driver. +I've seen him many a time sitting like a king on his box--yes, +indeed. Noticed him often. Admired him. Gad, Jennie, I'll see him +myself and tell him; and what is more, Jennie, I'll--I'll give Hicks +a fine present. + +Jennie. Yes, sir; I has no doubt as how you'll be doin' the square +thing by Hicks, for, as I was a-sayin', I has been engaged like to +him, an' he has some rights; but I think as how, if I puts it to him +right like, and tells him what a nice gentleman you are (a ring is +heard at the front door), it'll be all right, sir. But there goes +the bell, and I must run, Mr. Yardsley. (Ecstatically kissing her +hand.) Bob! + +Yardsley (with a convulsive gasp). Bob? Jennie! You--er--you +misun--(Jennie, with a smile of joy and an ecstatic glance at +Yardsley, dances from the room to attend the door. Yardsley throws +himself into a chair.) Well, I'll be teetotally--Awh! It's too dead +easy proposing to somebody you don't know you are proposing to. What +a kettle of fish this is, to be sure! Oh, pshaw! that woman can't be +serious. She must know I didn't mean it for her. But if she +doesn't, good Lord! what becomes of me? (Rises, and paces up and +down the room nervously. After a moment he pauses before the glass.) +I ought to be considerably dishevelled by this. I feel as if I'd +been drawn through a knot-hole--or--or dropped into a stone-crusher-- +that's it, a stone-crusher--a ten million horse power stone-crusher. +Let's see how you look, you poor idiot. + +[As he is stroking his hair and rearranging his tie he talks in +pantomime at himself in the glass. In a moment Jennie ushers Mr. +Jack Barlow into the room. + +Jennie. Miss Andrews will be down in a minute, sir. + +[Barlow takes arm-chair and sits gazing ahead of him. Neither he nor +Yardsley perceives the other. Jennie tiptoes to one side, and, +tossing a kiss at Yardsley, retires. + +Barlow. Now for it. I shall leave this house to-day the happiest or +the most miserable man in creation, and I rather think the odds are +in my favor. Why shouldn't they be? Egad! I can very well +understand how a woman could admire me. I admire myself, rather. I +confess candidly that I do not consider myself half bad, and Dorothy +has always seemed to feel that way herself. In fact, the other night +in the Perkinses conservatory she seemed to be quite ready for a +proposal. I'd have done it then and there if it hadn't been for that +confounded Bob Yardsley-- + +Yardsley (turning sharply about). Eh? Somebody spoke my name. A +man, too. Great heavens! I hope Jennie's friend Hicks isn't here. +I don't want to have a scene with Hicks. (Discovering Barlow.) Oh-- +ah--why--hullo, Barlow! You here? + +Barlow (impatiently, aside). Hang it! Yardsley's here too! The +man's always turning up when he's not wanted. (Aloud.) Ah! why, +Bob, how are you? What're you doing here? + +Yardsley. What do you suppose--tuning the piano? I'm here because I +want to be. And you? + +Barlow. For the same reason that you are. + +Yardsley (aside). Gad! I hope not. (Aloud.) Indeed? The great +mind act again? Run in the same channel, and all that? Glad to see +you. (Aside.) May the saints forgive me that fib! But this fellow +must be got rid of. + +Barlow (embarrassed). So'm I. Always glad to see myself--I mean +you--anywhere. Won't you sit down? + +Yardsley. Thanks. Very kind of you, I'm sure. (Aside.) He seems +very much at home. Won't I sit down?--as if he'd inherited the +chairs! Humph! I'll show him. + +Barlow. What say? + +Yardsley. I--ah--oh, I was merely remarking that I thought it was +rather pleasant out to-day. + +Barlow. Yes, almost too fine to be shut up in-doors. Why aren't you +driving, or--or playing golf, or--ah--or being out-doors somewhere? +You need exercise, old man; you look a little pale. (Aside.) I must +get him away from here somehow. Deuced awkward having another fellow +about when you mean to propose to a woman. + +Yardsley. Oh, I'm well enough! + +Barlow (solicitously). You don't look it--by Jove you don't. +(Suddenly inspired.) No, you don't, Bob. You overestimate your +strength. It's very wrong to overestimate one's strength. People-- +ah--people have died of it. Why, I'll bet you a hat you can't start +now and walk up to Central Park and back in an hour. Come. I'll +time you. (Rises and takes out watch.) It is now four ten. I'll +wager you can't get back here before five thirty. Eh? Let me get +your hat. + +[Starts for door. + +Yardsley (with a laugh). Oh no; I don't bet--after four. But I say, +did you see Billie Wilkins? + +Barlow (returning in despair). Nope. + +Yardsley (aside). Now for a bit of strategy. (Aloud.) He was +looking for you at the club. (Aside.) Splendid lie! (Aloud.) Had +seats for the--ah--the Metropolitan to-night. Said he was looking +for you. Wants you to go with him. (Aside.) That ought to start +him along. + +Barlow. I'll go with him. + +Yardsley (eagerly). Well, you'd better let him know at once, then. +Better run around there and catch him while there's time. He said if +he didn't see you before half-past four he'd get Tom Parker to go. +Fine show to-night. Wouldn't lose the opportunity if I were you. +(Looking at his watch.) You'll just about have time to do it now if +you start at once. + +[Grasps Barlow by arm, and tries to force him out. Barlow holds +back, and is about to remonstrate, when Dorothy enters. Both men +rush to greet her; Yardsley catches her left hand, Barlow her right. + +Dorothy (slightly embarrassed). Why, how do you do--this is an +unexpected pleasure--both of you? Excuse my left hand, Mr. Yardsley; +I should have given you the other if--if you'd given me time. + +Yardsley. Don't mention it, I pray. The unexpectedness is wholly +mine, Miss Andrews--I mean--ah--the pleasure is-- + +Barlow. Wholly mine. + +Dorothy (withdrawing her hands from both and sitting down). I +haven't seen either of you since the Perkinses dance. Wasn't it a +charming affair? + +Yardsley. Delightful. I--ah--I didn't know that the Perkinses-- + +Barlow (interrupting). It was a good deal of a crush, though. As +Mrs. Van Darling said to me, "You always meet--" + +Yardsley. It's a pity Perkins isn't more of a society man, though, +don't you think? + +Dorothy. O, I don't know. I've always found him very pleasant. He +is so sincere. + +Barlow. Isn't he, though? He looked bored to death all through the +dance. + +Yardsley. I thought so too. I was watching him while you were +talking to him, Barlow, and such a look of ennui I never saw on a +man's face. + +Barlow. Humph! + +Dorothy. Are you going to Mrs. Van Darling's dinner? + +Barlow. Yes; I received my bid last night. You? + +Dorothy. Oh yes! + +Yardsley (gloomily). I can't go very well. I'm--ah--engaged for +Tuesday. + +Barlow. Well, I hope you've let Mrs. Van Darling know. She's a +stickler for promptness in accepting or declining her invitations. +If you haven't, I'll tell her for you. I'm to see her to-night. + +Yardsley. Oh no! Never mind. I'll--I'll attend to it. + +Barlow. Oh, of course. But it's just as well she should know in +advance. You might forget it, you know. I'll tell her; it's no +trouble to me. + +Dorothy. Of course not, and she can get some one to take your place. + +Yardsley (desperately). Oh, don't say anything about it. Fact is, +she--ah--she hasn't invited me. + +Barlow. Ah! (Aside.) I knew that all along. Oh, but I'm clever! + +Dorothy (hastily, to relieve Yardsley's embarrassment). Have you +seen Irving, Mr. Yardsley? + +Yardsley. Yes. + +Barlow (suspiciously). What in? I haven't seen you at any of the +first nights. + +Yardsley (with a grin). In the grill-room at the Players. + +Barlow (aside). Bah! + +Dorothy (laughing). You are so bright, Mr. Yardsley. + +Barlow (forcing a laugh). Ha, ha, ha! Why, yes--very clever that. +It ought to have a Gibson picture over it, that joke. It would help +it. Those Gibson pictures are fine, I think. Carry any kind of +joke, eh? + +Yardsley. Yes, they frequently do. + +Dorothy. I'm so glad you both like Gibson, for I just dote on him. +I have one of his originals in my portfolio. I'll get it if you'd +like to see it. + +[She rises and goes to the corner of the room, where there stands a +portfolio-case. + +Yardsley (aside). What a bore Barlow is! Hang him! I must get rid +of him somehow. + +[Barlow meanwhile is assisting Dorothy. + +Yardsley (looking around at the others). Jove! he's off in the +corner with her. Can't allow that, for the fact is Barlow's just a +bit dangerous--to me. + +Dorothy (rummaging through portfolio). Why, it was here-- + +Barlow. Maybe it's in this other portfolio. + +Yardsley (joining them). Yes, maybe it is. That's a good idea. If +it isn't in one portfolio maybe it's in another. Clever thought! I +may be bright, Miss Andrews, but you must have observed that Barlow +is thoughtful. + +Dorothy (with a glance at Barlow). Yes, Mr. Yardsley, I have noticed +the latter. + +Barlow. Tee-hee! that's one on you, Bob. + +Yardsley (obtuse). Ha, ha! Yes. Why, of course! Ha, ha, ha! For +repartee I have always said-polite repartee, of course--Miss Andrews +is--(Aside.) Now what the dickens did she mean by that? + +Dorothy. I can't find it here. Let--me think. Where--can--it--be? + +Barlow (striking thoughtful attitude). Yes, where can it be? Let me +do your thinking for you, Miss Dorothy. (Then softly to her.) +Always! + +Yardsley (mocking Barlow). Yes! Let _me_ think! (Points his finger +at his forehead and assumes tragic attitude. Then stalks to the +front of stage in manner of burlesque Hamlet.) Come, thought, come. +Shed the glory of thy greatness full on me, and thus confound mine +enemies. Where the deuce is that Gibson? + +Dorothy. Oh, I remember. It's up-stairs. I took it up with me last +night. I'll ring for Jennie, and have her get it. + +Yardsley (aside, and in consternation). Jennie! Oh, thunder! I'd +forgotten her. I do hope she remembers not to forget herself. + +Barlow. What say? + +Yardsley. Nothing; only--ah--only that I thought it was very--very +pleasant out. + +Barlow. That's what you said before. + +Yardsley (indignantly). Well, what of it? It's the truth. If you +don't believe it, go outside and see for yourself. + +[Jennie appears at the door in response to Dorothy's ring. She +glances demurely at Yardsley, who tries to ignore her presence. + +Dorothy. Jennie, go up to my room and look on the table in the +corner, and bring me down the portfolio you will find there. The +large brown one that belongs in the stand over there. + +Jennie (dazed). Yessum. And shall I be bringin' lemons with it? + +Dorothy. Lemons, Jennie? + +Jennie. You always does have lemons with your tea, mum. + +Dorothy. I didn't mention tea. I want you to get my portfolio from +up-stairs. It is on the table in the corner of my room. + +[Looks at Jennie in surprise. + +Jennie. Oh, excuse me, mum. I didn't hear straight. + +[She casts a languishing glance at Yardsley and disappears. + +Yardsley (noting the glance, presumably aside). Confound that +Jennie! + +Barlow (overhearing Yardsley). What's that? Confound that Jennie? +Why say confound that Jennie? Why do you wish Jennie to be +confounded? + +Yardsley (nervously). I didn't say that. I--ah--I merely said that-- +that Jennie appeared to be--ah--confounded. + +Dorothy. She certainly is confused. I cannot understand it at all. +Ordinarily I have rather envied Jennie her composure. + +Yardsley. Oh, I suppose--it's--it's--it's natural for a young girl-- +a servant--sometimes to lose her--equipoise, as it were, on +occasions. If we lose ours at times, why not Jennie? Eh? Huh? + +Barlow. Certainly. + +Yardsley. Of course--ha--trained servants are hard to get these +days, anyhow. Educated people--ah--go into other professions, such +as law, and--ah--the ministry--and-- + +Dorothy. Well, never mind. Let's talk of something more interesting +than Jennie. Going to the Chrysanthemum Show, Mr. Barlow? + +Barlow. I am; wouldn't miss it for the world. Do you know, really +now, the chrysanthemum, in my opinion, is the most human-looking +flower we have. The rose is too beautiful, too perfect, for me. The +chrysanthemum, on the other hand-- + +Yardsley (interrupting). Looks so like a football-player's head it +appeals to your sympathies? Well, perhaps you are right. I never +thought of it in that light before, but-- + +Dorothy (smiling). Nor I; but now that you mention it, it does look +that way, doesn't it? + +Barlow (not wishing to disagree with Dorothy). Very much. Droll +idea, though. Just like Bob, eh? Very, very droll. Bob's always +dro-- + +Yardsley (interrupting). When I see a man walking down the Avenue +with a chrysanthemum in his button-hole, I always think of a wild +Indian wearing a scalp for decorative purposes. + +[Barlow and Dorothy laugh at this, and during their mirth Jennie +enters with the portfolio. She hands it to Dorothy. Dorothy rests +it on the arm of her chair, and Barlow looking over one shoulder, she +goes through it. Jennie in passing out throws another kiss to +Yardsley. + +Yardsley (under his breath, stamping his foot). Awgh! + +Barlow. What say? + +[Dorothy looks up, surprised. + +Yardsley. I--I didn't say anything. My--ah--my shoe had a piece of-- +ah-- + +Barlow. Oh, say lint, and be done with it. + +Yardsley (relieved, and thankful for the suggestion). Why, how did +you know? It did, you know. Had a piece of lint on it, and I tried +to get it off by stamping, that's all. + +Dorothy. Ah, here it is. + +Yardsley. What? The lint? + +Barlow. Ho! Is the world nothing but lint to you? Of course not-- +the Gibson. Charming, isn't it, Miss Dorothy? + +Dorothy (holding the picture up). Fine. Just look at that girl. +Isn't she pretty? + +Barlow. Very. + +Dorothy. And such style, too. + +Yardsley (looking over Dorothy's other shoulder). Yes, very pretty, +and lots of style. (Softly.) Very--like some one--some one I know. + +Barlow (overhearing). I think so myself, Yardsley. It's exactly +like Josie Wilkins. By-the-way--ah--how is that little affair coming +along, Bob? + +Dorothy (interested). What! You don't mean to say--Why, _Mister_ +Yardsley! + +Yardsley (with a venomous glance at Barlow). Nonsense. Nothing in +it. Mere invention of Barlow's. He's a regular Edison in his own +way. + +[Dorothy looks inquiringly at Barlow. + +Barlow (to Yardsley). Oh, don't be so sly about it, old fellow! +_Every_body knows. + +Yardsley. But I tell you there's nothing in it. I--I have different +ideas entirely, and you--you know it--or, if you don't, you will +shortly. + +Dorothy. Oh! Then it's some one else, Mr. Yardsley? Well, now I +_am_ interested'. Let's have a little confidential talk together. +Tell _us_, Mr. Yardsley, tell Mr. Barlow and me, and maybe--I can't +say for certain, of course--but maybe we can help you. + +Barlow (gleefully rubbing his hands). Yes, old man; certainly. +Maybe we--we can help you. + +Yardsley (desperately). You can help me, both of you--but--but I +can't very well tell you how. + +Barlow. I'm willing to do all I can for you, my dear Bob. If you +will only tell us her name I'll even go so far as to call, in your +behalf, and propose for you. + +Yardsley. Oh, thanks. You are very kind. + +Dorothy. I think so too, Mr. Barlow. You are almost too kind, it +seems to me. + +Yardsley. Oh no; not too kind, Miss Andrews. Barlow simply realizes +that one who has proposed marriage to young girls as frequently as he +has knows how the thing is done, and he wishes to give me the benefit +of his experience. (Aside.) That's a facer for Barlow. + +Barlow. Ha, ha, ha! Another joke, I suppose. You see, my dear Bob, +that I am duly appreciative. I laugh. Ha, ha, ha! But I must say I +laugh with some uncertainty. I don't know whether you intended that +for a joke or for a staggerer. You should provide your conversation +with a series of printed instructions for the listener. Get a lot of +cards, and have printed on one, "Please laugh"; on another, "Please +stagger"; on another, "Kindly appear confused." Then when you mean +to be jocose hand over the laughter card, and so on. Shall I +stagger? + +Dorothy. I think that Mr. Yardsley meant that for a joke. Didn't +you, Mr. Yardsley? + +Yardsley. Why, certainly. Of course. I don't really believe Barlow +ever had sand enough to propose to any one. Did you, Jack? + +Barlow (indignant). Well, I rather think I have. + +Dorothy. Ho, ho! Then you _are_ an experienced proposer, Mr. +Barlow? + +Barlow (confused). Why--er--well--um--I didn't exactly mean that, +you know. I meant that--ah--if it ever came to the--er--the test, I +think I could--I'd have sand enough, as Yardsley puts it, to do the +thing properly, and without making a--ah--a Yardsley of myself. + +Yardsley (bristling up). Now what do you mean by that? + +Dorothy. I think you are both of you horrid this afternoon. You are +so quarrelsome. Do you two always quarrel, or is this merely a +little afternoon's diversion got up for my especial benefit? + +Barlow (with dignity). I never quarrel. + +Yardsley. Nor I. I simply differ sometimes, that's all. I never +had an unpleasant word with Jack in my life. Did I, Jack? + +Barlow. Never. I always avoid a fracas, however great the +provocation. + +Dorothy (desperately). Then let us have a cup of tea together and be +more sociable. I have always noticed that tea promotes sociability-- +haven't you, Mr. Yardsley? + +Yardsley. Always. (Aside.) Among women. + +Barlow. What say? + +[Dorothy rises and rings the bell for Jennie. + +Yardsley. I say that I am very fond of tea. + +Barlow. So am I--here. [Rises and looks at pictures. Yardsley +meanwhile sits in moody silence. + +Dorothy (returning). You seem to have something on your mind, Mr. +Yardsley. I never knew you to be so solemn before. + +Yardsley. I have something on my mind, Miss Dorothy. It's-- + +Barlow (coming forward). Wise man, cold weather like this. It would +be terrible if you let your mind go out in cold weather without +anything on it. Might catch cold in your idea. + +Dorothy. I wonder why Jennie doesn't come? I shall have to ring +again. + +[Pushes electric button again. + +Yardsley (with an effort at brilliance). The kitchen belle doesn't +seem to work. + +Dorothy. Ordinarily she does, but she seems to be upset by something +this afternoon. I'm afraid she's in love. If you will excuse me a +moment I will go and prepare the tea myself. + +Barlow. Do; good! Then we shall not need the sugar. + +Yardsley. You might omit the spoons too, after a remark like that, +Miss Dorothy. + +Dorothy. We'll omit Mr. Barlow's spoon. I'll bring some for you and +me. [She goes out. + +Yardsley (with a laugh). That's one on you, Barlow. But I say, old +man (taking out his watch and snapping the cover to three or four +times), it's getting very late--after five now. If you want to go +with Billy Wilkins you'd better take up your hat and walk. I'll say +good-bye to Miss Andrews for you. + +Barlow. Thanks. Too late now. You said Billie wouldn't wait after +four thirty. + +Yardsley. Did I say four thirty? I meant five thirty. Anyhow, +Billie isn't over-prompt. Better go. + +Barlow. You seem mighty anxious to get rid of me. + +Yardsley. I? Not at all, my dear boy--not at all. I'm very, very +fond of you, but I thought you'd prefer opera to me. Don't you see? +That's where my modesty comes in. You're so fond of a good chat I +thought you'd want to go to-night. Wilkins has a box. + +Barlow. You said seats a little while ago. + +Yardsley. Of course I did. And why not? There are seats in boxes. +Didn't you know that? + +Barlow. Look here, Yardsley, what's up, anyhow? You've been deuced +queer to-day. What are you after? + +Yardsley (tragically). Shall I confide in you? Can I, with a sense +of confidence that you will not betray me? + +Barlow (eagerly). Yes, Bob. Go on. What is it? I'll never give +you away, and I _may_ be able to give you some good advice. + +Yardsley. I am here to--to--to rob the house! Business has been +bad, and one must live. [Barlow looks at him in disgust. + +Yardsley (mockingly). You have my secret, John Barlow. Remember +that it was wrung from me in confidence. You must not betray me. +Turn your back while I surreptitiously remove the piano and the gas- +fixtures, won't you? + +Barlow (looking at him thoughtfully). Yardsley, I have done you an +injustice. + +Yardsley. Indeed? + +Barlow. Yes. Some one claimed, at the club, the other day, that you +were the biggest donkey in existence, and I denied it. I was wrong, +old man, I was wrong, and I apologize. You are. + +Yardsley. You are too modest, Jack. You forget--yourself. + +Barlow. Well, perhaps I do; but I've nothing to conceal, and you +have. You've been behaving in a most incomprehensible fashion this +afternoon, as if you owned the house. + +Yardsley. Well, what of it? Do you own it? + +Barlow. No, I don't, but-- + +Yardsley. But you hope to. Well, I have no such mercenary motive. +I'm not after the house. + +Barlow (bristling up). After the house? Mercenary motive? I demand +an explanation of those words. What do you mean? + +Yardsley. I mean this, Jack Barlow: I mean that I am here for--for +my own reasons; but you--you have come here for the purpose of-- + +Dorothy enters wish a tray, upon which are the tea things. + +Barlow (about to retort to Yardsley, perceiving Dorothy). Ah! Let +me assist you. + +Dorothy. Thank you so much. I really believe I never needed help +more. (She delivers the tray to Barlow, who sets it on the table. +Dorothy, exhausted, drops into a chair.) Fan me--quick--or I shall +faint. I've--I've had an awful time, and I really don't know what to +do! + +Barlow and Yardsley (together). Why, what's the matter? + +Yardsley. I hope the house isn't on fire? + +Barlow. Or that you haven't been robbed? + +Dorothy. No, no; nothing like that. It's--it's about Jennie. + +Yardsley (nervously). Jennie? Wha--wha--what's the matter with +Jennie? + +Dorothy. I only wish I knew. I-- + +Yardsley (aside). I'm glad you don't. + +Barlow. What say? + +Yardsley. I didn't say anything. Why should I say anything? I +haven't anything to say. If people who had nothing to say would not +insist upon talking, you'd be-- + +Dorothy. I heard the poor girl weeping down-stairs, and when I went +to the dumbwaiter to ask her what was the matter, I heard--I heard a +man's voice. + +Yardsley. Man's voice? + +Barlow. Man's voice is what Miss Andrews said. + +Dorothy. Yes; it was Hicks, our coachman, and he was dreadfully +angry about something. + +Yardsley (sinking into chair). Good Lord! Hicks! Angry! At-- +something! + +Dorothy. He was threatening to kill somebody. + +Yardsley. This grows worse and worse! Threatening to kill somebody! +D-did-did you o-over-overhear huh-huh-whom he was going to kuk-kill? + +Barlow. What's the matter with you, Yardsley? Are you going to die +of fright, or have you suddenly caught a chill? + +Dorothy. Oh, I hope not! Don't die here, anyhow, Mr. Yardsley. If +you must die, please go home and die. I couldn't stand another shock +to-day. Why, really, I was nearly frightened to death. I don't know +now but what I ought to send for the police, Hicks was so violent. + +Barlow. Perhaps she and Hicks have had a lovers' quarrel. + +Yardsley. Very likely; very likely indeed. I think that is no doubt +the explanation of the whole trouble. Lovers will quarrel. They +were engaged, you know. + +Dorothy (surprised). No, I didn't know it. Were they? Who told +you? + +Yardsley (discovering his mistake). Why--er--wasn't it you said so, +Miss Dorothy? Or you, Barlow? + +Barlow. I have not the honor of the young woman's confidence, and so +could not have given you the information. + +Dorothy. I didn't know it, so how could I have told you? + +Yardsley (desperately). Then I must have dreamed it. I do have the +queerest dreams sometimes, but there's nothing strange about this +one, anyhow. Parlor-maids frequently do--er--become engaged to +coachmen and butlers and that sort of thing. It isn't a rare +occurrence at all. If I'd said she was engaged to Billie Wilkins, or +to--to Barlow here-- + +Barlow. Or to yourself. + +Yardsley. Sir? What do you mean to insinuate? That I am engaged to +Jennie? + +Barlow. I never said so. + +Dorothy. Oh dear, let us have the tea. You quarrelsome men are just +wearing me out. Mr. Barlow, do you want cream in yours? + +Barlow. If you please; and one lump of sugar. (Dorothy pours is +out.) Thanks. + +Dorothy. Mr. Yardsley? + +Yardsley. Just a little, Miss Andrews. No cream, and no sugar. + +[Dorothy prepares a cup for Yardsley. He is about to take it when-- + +Dorothy. Well, I declare! It's nothing but hot water! I forgot the +tea entirely! + +Barlow (with a laugh). Oh, never mind. Hot water is good for +dyspepsia. + +[With a significant look at Yardsley. + +Yardsley. It depends on how you get it, Mr. Barlow. I've known men +who've got dyspepsia from living in hot water too much. + +[As Yardsley speaks the portiere is violently clutched from without, +and Jennie's head is thrust into the room. No one observes her. + +Barlow. Well, my cup is very satisfactory to me, Miss Dorothy. Fact +is, I've always been fond of cambric tea, and this is just right. + +Yardsley (patronizingly). It _is_ good for children. + +Jennie (trying to attract Yardsley's attention). Pst! + +Yardsley. My mamma lets me have it Sunday nights. + +Dorothy. Ha, ha, ha! + +Barlow. Another joke? Good. Let me enjoy it too. Hee, Hee! + +Jennie. Pst! + +[Barlow looks around; Jennie hastily withdraws her head. + +Barlow. I didn't know you had steam heat in this house. + +Dorothy. We haven't. What put such an idea as that into your head? + +Barlow. Why, I thought I heard the hissing of steam, the click of a +radiator, or something of that sort back by the door. + +Yardsley. Maybe the house is haunted. + +Dorothy. I fancy it was your imagination: or perhaps it was the +wind blowing through the hall. The pantry window is open. + +Barlow. I guess maybe that's it. How fine it must be in the country +now! + +[Jennie pokes her head in through the portieres again, and follows it +with her arm and hand, in which is a feather duster, which she waves +wildly in an endeavor to attract Yardsley's attention. + +Dorothy. Divine. I should so love to be out of town still. It +seems to me people always make a great mistake returning to the city +so early in the fall. The country is really at its best at this time +of year. + +[Yardsley turns half around, and is about to speak, when he catches +sight of the now almost hysterical Jennie and her feather duster. + +Barlow. Yes; I think so too. I was at Lenox last week, and the +foliage was gorgeous. + +Yardsley (feeling that he must say something). Yes. I suppose all +the feathers on the maple-trees are turning red by this time. + +Dorothy. Feathers, Mr. Yardsley? + +Barlow. Feathers? + +Yardsley (with a furtive glance at Jennie). Ha, ha! What an absurd +slip! Did I say feathers? I meant--I meant leaves, of course. All +the leaves on the dusters are turning. + +Barlow. I don't believe you know what you do mean. Who ever heard +of leaves on dusters? What are dusters? Do you know, Miss Dorothy? + +[As he turns to Miss Andrews, Yardsley tries to wave Jennie away. +She beckons with her arms more wildly than ever, and Yardsley +silently speaks the words, "Go away." + +Dorothy. I'm sure I don't know of any tree by that name, but then +I'm not a--not a what? + +Yardsley (with a forced laugh). Treeologist + +Dorothy. What are dusters, Mr. Yardsley? + +Barlow. Yes, old man, tell us. I'm anxious to find out myself. + +Yardsley (aside). So am I. What the deuce are dusters, for this +occasion only? (Aloud) What? Never heard of dusters? Ho! Why, +dear me, where have you been all your lives? (Aside.) Must gain +time to think up what dusters are. (Aloud.) Why, they're as old as +the hills. + +Barlow. That may be, but I can't say I think your description is at +all definite. + +Dorothy. Do they look like maples? + +Yardsley (with an angry wave of his arms towards Jennie). Something-- +in fact, very much. They're exactly like them. You can hardly tell +them from oaks. + +Barlow. Oaks? + +Yardsley. I said oaks. Oaks! O-A-K-S! + +Barlow. But oaks aren't like maples. + +Yardsley. Well, who said they were? We were talking about oaks-- +and--er--and dusters. We--er--we used to have a row of them in front +of our old house at-- (Aside.) Now where the deuce did we have the +old house? Never had one, but we must for the sake of the present +situation. (Aloud.) Up at--at--Bryn-Mawr--or at--Troy, or some such +place, and--at--they kept the--the dust of the highway from getting +into the house. (With a sigh of relief.) And so, you see, they were +called dusters. Thought every one knew that. + +[As Yardsley finishes, Jennie loses her balance and falls headlong +into the room. + +Dorothy (starting up hastily). Why, Jennie! + +Yardsley (staggering into chair). That settles it. It's all up with +me. [Jennie sobs, and, rising, rushes to Yardsley's side. + +Jennie. Save yourself; he's going to kill you! + +Dorothy. Jennie! What is the meaning of this? Mr. Yardsley--can-- +can you shed any light on this mystery? + +Yardsley (pulling himself together with a great effort). I? I +assure you I can't, Miss Andrews. How could I? All I know is that +somebody is--is going to kill me, though for what I haven't the +slightest idea. + +Jennie (indignantly). Eh? What! Why, Mr. Yardsley--Bob! + +Barlow. Bob? + +Dorothy. Jennie! Bob? + +Yardsley. Don't you call me Bob. + +Jennie. It's Hicks. [Bursts out crying. + +Barlow. Hicks? + +Dorothy. Jennie, Hicks isn't Bob. His name--is George. + +Yardsley (in a despairing rage). Hicks be-- + +Dorothy. Mr. Yardsley! + +Yardsley (pulling himself together again). Bobbed. Hicks be Bobbed. +That's what I was going to say. + +Dorothy. What on earth does this all mean? I must have an +explanation, Jennie. What have you to say for yourself? + +Jennie. Why, I-- + +Yardsley. I tell you it isn't true. She's made it up out of whole +cloth. + +Barlow. What isn't true? She hasn't said anything yet. + +Yardsley (desperately). I refer to what she's going to say. I'm a-- +a--I'm a mind-reader, and I see it all as plain as day. + +Dorothy. I can best judge of the truth of Jennie's words when she +has spoken them, Mr. Yardsley. Jennie, you may explain, if you can. +What do you mean by Hicks killing Mr. Yardsley, and why do you +presume to call Mr. Yardsley by his first name? + +Yardsley (aside). Heigho! My goose is cooked. + +Barlow. I fancy you wish you had taken that walk I suggested now. + +Yardsley. You always were a good deal of a fancier. + +Jennie. I hardly knows how to begin, Miss Dorothy. I--I'm so +flabbergasted by all that's happened this afternoon, mum, that I +can't get my thoughts straight, mum. + +Dorothy. Never mind getting your thoughts straight, Jennie. I do +not want fiction. I want the truth. + +Jennie. Well, mum, when a fine gentleman like Mr. Yardsley asks-- + +Yardsley. I tell you it isn't so. + +Jennie. Indeed he did, mum. + +Dorothy (impatiently). Did what? + +Jennie. Axed me to marry him, mum. + +Dorothy. Mr. Yardsley--asked--you--to--to marry him? [Barlow +whistles. + +Jennie (bursting into tears again). Yes, mum, he did, mum, right +here in this room. He got down on his knees to me on that Proossian +rug before the sofa, mum. I was standin' behind the sofa, havin' +just come in to tell him as how you'd be down shortly. He was +standin' before the lookin'-glass lookin' at himself, an' when I come +in he turns around and goes down on his knees and says such an +importunity may not occur again, mum; I've loved you very long; and +then he recited some pottery, mum, and said would I be his wife. + +Yardsley (desperately). Let me explain. + +Dorothy. Wait, Mr. Yardsley; your turn will come in a moment. + +Barlow. Yes, it'll be here, my boy; don't fret about that. Take all +the time you need to make it a good one. Gad, if this doesn't strain +your imagination, nothing will. + +Dorothy. Go on, Jennie. Then what happened? + +Yardsley (with an injured expression). Do you expect me to stand +here, Miss Andrews, and hear this girl's horrible story? + +Barlow. Then you know the story, do you, Yardsley? It's horrible, +and you are innocent. My! you are a mind-reader with a vengeance. + +Dorothy. Don't mind what these gentlemen say, Jennie, but go on. + +[Yardsley sinks into the arm-chair. Barlow chuckles; Miss Andrews +glances indignantly at him. + +Dorothy. Pardon me, Mr. Barlow. If there is any humor in the +situation, I fail to see it. + +Barlow (seeing his error). Nor, indeed, do I. I was not--ah-- +laughing from mirth. That chuckle was hysterics, Miss Dorothy, I +assure you. There are some laughs that can hardly be differentiated +from sobs. + +Jennie. I was all took in a heap, mum, to think of a fine gentleman +like Mr. Yardsley proposing to me, mum, and I says the same. Says I, +"Oh, Mr. Yardsley, this is so suddent like," whereat he looks up with +a countenance so full o' pain that I hadn't the heart to refuse him; +so, fergettin' Hicks for the moment, I says, kind of soft like, +certingly, sir. It ain't for the likes o' me to say no to the likes +o' him. + +Yardsley. Then you said you were engaged to Hicks. You know you +did, Jennie. + +Barlow. Ah! Then you admit the proposal? + +Yardsley. Oh Lord! Worse and worse! I-- + +Dorothy. Jennie has not finished her story. + +Jennie. I did say as how I was engaged to Hicks, but I thought he +would let me off; and Mr. Yardsley looked glad when I said that, and +said he'd make it all right with Hicks. + +Yardsley. What? I? Jennie O'Brien, or whatever your horrible name +is, do you mean to say that I said I'd make it all right with Hicks? + +Jennie. Not in them words, Mr. Yardsley; but you did say as how +you'd see him yourself and give him a present. You did indeed, Mr. +Yardsley, as you was a-standin' on that there Proossian rug. + +Dorothy. Did you, Mr. Yardsley? + +[Yardsley buries his face in his hands and groans. + +Barlow. Not so ready with your explanations now, eh? + +Dorothy. Mr. Barlow, really I must ask you not to interfere. Did +you say that, Mr. Yardsley? + +Yardsley. I did, but-- + +Dorothy (frigidly). Go on, Jennie. + +Jennie. Just then the front-door bell rings and Mr. Barlow comes, +and there wasn't no more importunity for me to speak; but when I got +down-stairs into the kitchen, mum, Mr. Hicks he comes in, an' (sobs)-- +an' I breaks with him. + +Yardsley. You've broken with Hicks for me? + +Jennie. Yes, I have--but I wouldn't never have done it if I'd known-- +boo-hoo--as how you'd behave this way an' deny ever havin' said a +word. I--I--I 1-lo-love Mr. Hicks, an'--I--I hate you--and I wish +I'd let him come up and kill you, as he said he would. + +Dorothy. Jennie! Jennie! be calm! Where is Hicks now? + +Yardsley. That's so. Where is Hicks? I want to see him. + +Jennie. Never fear for that. You'll see him. He's layin' for you +outside. An' that, Miss Dorothy, is why--I was a-wavin' at him an' +sayin' "pst" to him. I wanted to warn him, mum, of his danger, mum, +because Hicks is very vi'lent, and he told me in so many words as how +he was a-goin' to _do--him--up_. + +Barlow. You'd better inform Mr. Hicks, Jennie, that Mr. Yardsley is +already done up. + +Yardsley. Do me up, eh? Well, I like that. I'm not afraid of any +coachman in creation as long as he's off the box. I'll go see him at +once. + +Dorothy. No--no--no. Don't, Mr. Yardsley; don't, I beg of you. I +don't want to have any scene between you. + +Yardsley (heroically). What if he succeeds? I don't care. As +Barlow says, I'm done up as it is. I don't want to live after this. +What's the use. Everything's lost. + +Barlow (dryly). Jennie hasn't thrown you over yet. + +Jennie (sniffing airily). Yes, she has, too. I wouldn't marry him +now for all the world--an'--and I've lost--lost Hicks. (Weeps.) Him +as was so brave, an' looks so fine in livery! + +Yardsley. If you'd only give me a chance to say something-- + +Barlow. Appears to me you've said too much already. + +Dorothy (coldly). I--I don't agree with Mr. Barlow. You--you +haven't said enough, Mr. Yardsley. If you have any explanation to +make, I'll listen. + +Yardsley (looks up gratefully. Suddenly his face brightens. Aside). +Gad! The very thing! I'll tell the exact truth, and if Dorothy has +half the sense I think she has, I'll get in my proposal right under +Barlow's very nose. (Aloud.) My--my explanation, Miss Andrews, is +very simple. I--ah--I cannot deny having spoken every word that +Jennie has charged to my account. I did get down on my knees on the +rug. I did say "divine creature." I did not put it strong enough. +I should have said "divinest of _all_ creatures." + +Dorothy (in remonstrance). Mr. Yardsley! + +Barlow (aside). Magnificent bluff! But why? (Rubs his forehead in +a puzzled way.) What the deuce is he driving at? + +Yardsley. Kindly let me finish. I did say "I love you." I should +have said "I adore you; I worship you." I did say "Will you be my +wife?" and I was going to add, "for if you will not, then is light +turned into darkness for me, and life, which your 'yes' will render +radiantly beautiful, will become dull, colorless, and not worth the +living." That is what I was going to say, Miss Andrews--Miss +Dorothy--when--when Jennie interrupted me and spoke the word I most +wish to hear--spoke the word "yes"; but it was not her yes that I +wished. My words of love were not for her. + +Barlow (perceiving his drift). Ho! Absurd! Nonsense! Most +unreasonable! You were calling the sofa the divinest of all +creatures, I suppose, or perhaps asking the--the piano to put on its +shoes and--elope with you. Preposterous! + +Dorothy (softly). Go on, Mr. Yardsley. + +Yardsley. I--I spoke a little while ago about sand--courage--when it +comes to one's asking the woman he loves the greatest of all +questions. I was boastful. I pretended that I had that courage; +but--well, I am not as brave as I seem. I had come, Miss Dorothy, to +say to you the words that fell on Jennie's ears, and--and I began to +get nervous--stage-fright, I suppose it was--and I was foolish enough +to rehearse what I had to say--to you, and to you alone. + +Barlow. Let me speak, Miss Andrews. I-- + +Yardsley. You haven't anything to do with the subject in hand, my +dear Barlow, not a thing. + +Dorothy. Jennie--what--what have you to say? + +Jennie. Me? Oh, mum, I hardly knows what to say! This is suddenter +than the other; but, Miss Dorothy, I'd believe him, I would, because-- +I--I think he's tellin' the truth, after all, for the reason that-- +oh dear--for-- + +Dorothy. Don't be frightened, Jennie. For what reason? + +Jennie. Well, mum, for the reason that when I said "yes," mum, he +didn't act like all the other gentlemen I've said yes to, and--and k-- +kuk--kiss me. + +Yardsley. That's it! that's it! Do you suppose that if I'd been +after Jennie's yes, and got it, I'd have let a door-bell and a sofa +stand between me and--the sealing of the proposal? + +Barlow (aside). Oh, what nonsense this all is! I've got to get +ahead of this fellow in some way. (Aloud.) Well, where do I come +in? I came here, Miss Andrews, to--tell you-- + +Yardsley (interposing). You come in where you came in before--just a +little late--after the proposal, as it were. + +Dorothy (her face clearing and wreathing with smiles). What a comedy +of errors it has all been! I--I believe you, Mr. Yardsley. + +Yardsley. Thank Heaven! And--ah--you aren't going to say anything +more, D--Dorothy? + +Dorothy. I'm afraid-- + +Yardsley. Are you going to make me go through that proposal all over +again, now that I've got myself into so much trouble saying it the +first time--Dorothy? + +Dorothy. No, no. You needn't--you needn't speak of it again. + +Barlow (aside). Good! That's his conge. + +Yardsley. And--then if I--if I needn't say it again? What then? +Can't I have--my answer now? Oh, Miss Andrews-- + +Dorothy (with downcast eyes, softly). What did Jennie say? + +Yardsley (in ecstasy). Do you mean it? + +Barlow. I fancy--I fancy I'd better go now, Miss--er--Miss Andrews. +I--I--have an appointment with Mr. Wilkins, and--er--I observe that +it is getting rather late. + +Yardsley. Don't go yet, Jack. I'm not so anxious to be rid of you +now. + +Barlow. I must go--really. + +Yardsley. But I want you to make me one promise before you go. + +Dorothy. He'll make it, I'm sure, if I ask him. Mr. Yardsley and I +want you--want you to be our best man. + +Yardsley. That's it, precisely. Eh, Jack? + +Barlow. Well, yes. I'll be--second-best man, The events of the +afternoon have shown my capacity for that. + +Yardsley. Ah! + +Barlow. And I'll show my sincerity by wearing Bob's hat and coat +into the street now and letting the fury of Hicks fall upon me. + +Jennie. If you please, Miss Dorothy--I--I think I can attend to Mr. +Hicks. + +Dorothy. Very well. I think that would be better. You may go, +Jennie. + +[Jennie departs. + +Barlow. Well, good-day. I--I've had a very pleasant afternoon, +Miss--Andrews. Thanks for the--the cambric tea. + +Dorothy. Good-bye, and don't forget. + +Barlow. I'm afraid--I won't. Good-bye, Bob. I congratulate you +from my heart. I was in hopes that I should have the pleasure of +having you for a best man at my wedding, but--er--there's many a +slip, you know, and I wish you joy. + +[Yardsley shakes him by the hand, and Barlow goes out. As he +disappears through the portieres Yardsley follows, and, holding the +curtain aside, looks after him until the front door is heard closing. +Then he turns about. Dorothy looks demurely around at him, and as he +starts to go to her side the curtain falls. + + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BICYCLERS AND THREE OTHER FARCES*** + + +******* This file should be named 11759.txt or 11759.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/1/1/7/5/11759 + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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