FLYNN: I can't, I've got a stationary post.

MAGGIE: Look at that now, that shows where you stand. Good-night, John.

FLYNN: Good-night, Maggie. (Exits R.) (Enter EEL and GOLDIE arm in arm, talking earnestly. As they come to steps, GOLDIE goes up and unlocks door. EEL sees FLYNN coming up on R., he lights cigarette and motions to go in. GOLDIE exits door C. FLYNN comes up to EEL, who throws the match in his face and disappears door C. as FLYNN is rubbing his eyes.)

DARK CHANGE

SCENE III

SAME NIGHT, INTERIOR OF GOLDIE'S FLAT

Living room, bedroom, and kitchen can be seen. At rise, O'MARA and TOM are installing the dictagraph, on wall L. C. TOM is standing on chair L. C. He places the instrument—then runs his hand down to wire.)

TOM: All right, Jim, hand me that picture.

O'MARA: (C. handing TOM framed picture.) Here you are, Tom.

TOM: (Hangs picture over dictagraph, gets off of chair and backs off, seeing if it's placed right.) There, that'll do, I guess.

O'MARA: Nobody would ever suspect anything's been happening here.

TOM: (Picking up bits of wire and tools from floor L. C. O'MARA puts chair TOM has been standing on, R. and brings bag C.) Pick up these pieces. Did you give the Inspector the office?

O'MARA: Twenty minutes ago.

TOM: (Putting scraps into bag.) The job took a little longer than I thought it would.

O'MARA: (Closing bag and handing it to TOM.) Yes, and we'd better get a gait on out of here, or the EEL and his girl will be walkin' in on us. (Door slams off stage.)

BOTH: What's that!

O'MARA: It must be them!

TOM: (Starts for door R.)

O'MARA: We can't go that way.

TOM: (Indicating the window L.) The fire escape, quick. (TOM crosses quickly to window L., opens it, and goes through.)

O'MARA: (Follows TOM, but stops at window L.) Wait a minute! (Goes back, turns out light, then goes through window, closing it after him.) (Footsteps begin on steps off stage as O'MARA pulls down window.) Stage is in darkness but for the moonlight that streams in through window L. Steps sound closer. Key rattles and door is unlocked. Door R. opens just a bit at first, then GOLDIE enters, followed by the EEL.)

EEL: (Holding GOLDIE back.) Wait a minute, kid, till I strike a match.

GOLDIE: Oh, never mind, Billy, I don't need one. (Gropes her way C. and turns on light. EEL stays at door R. listening to hear if they are followed.) Home again! Gee! but that guy what said "ther ain't no place like home" must have travelled some.

EEL: (Turning around.) Yep! Gee, but this is some swell dump you got here, Kid!

GOLDIE: Ain't this classy?

(The EEL hurries into bedroom and then into kitchen as though looking for some one. GOLDIE follows him, but stops at kitchen door.) What are you looking for, the ice-box?

EEL: (Coming down to C. R. of GOLDIE.) No, it ain't that.

GOLDIE: What then, lookin' for a sleeper?

EEL: No telling what they're up to. You don't think they've given us our liberty, without a string to it, do you? They're Indian givers, they are.

(Starts for door R.)

GOLDIE: Gee, Billy! I hadn't thought of that. (Goes into bedroom and lights electric light L. of bedroom off C.)

EEL: (R. C. looking at door R.) I kind of thought I saw a light through the bottom of this door, when we was coming up the stairs.

GOLDIE: (Coming down C.) Oh, it must have been the reflection of the moon. (Takes off hat and puts it on dresser in bedroom. EEL crosses room backwards to L., holding hand in moonlight to make the shadow on bottom of door. GOLDIE watches him. EEL then turns to window and GOLDIE looks under bed.)

EEL: (Excitedly.) This latch is sprung.

GOLDIE: I must have left it open, when they hiked me down to the club house.

EEL: Are you sure?

GOLDIE: SURE!

EEL: (Going down L.) Well, then, I guess we're all right for the present at least.

GOLDIE: (Coming down C. with travelling bag which she has taken off of bed.) Yes, until Dugan finds out we've been sprung, and then he'll be after us like a cat after a mouse. (Puts bag on table up R.)

EEL: We'll be on a rattler for Chi, before that. How long will it take you to pack?

GOLDIE: (Going into bedroom.) About a half hour.

EEL: That's good. If Dugan does go after us (Chuckles.), he's got to get us first.

GOLDIE: (Coming down C. with kimono which she has taken from door C. in bedroom, and is folding.) Say, Billy, I guess I'd better lock this door. (Starts for door, but his next line stops her.)

EEL: He can't break in here without a search warrant, and he can't get that before Monday. (Lying down on couch.)

GOLDIE: Well, what's he going to get it on then? (Putting kimono in bag on table R., picking up a pair of shoes from the floor near table, but the EEL's next line stops her.)

EEL: (Still on couch.) You ought to know Dugan well enough by this time. He'll get something on us, leave it to him.

GOLDIE: (Stopping thoughtfully in door C., then throwing shoes on floor near bed decisively and coming down C.) If he does, I'll turn squealer for the first time in my life.

EEL: (Jumping off of couch quickly.) Don't you do it. I could never look you square in the eyes again if you did.

GOLDIE: It ain't no worse to squeal than it is to steal.

EEL: Yes, it is, Kid, God'll forgive a thief, but he hates a squealer.

GOLDIE: Maybe you're right, Billy. Well, I guess we'd better get a move on. (Going into bedroom and getting hair brush off of dresser.) We can't get out of here any too soon to suit me. (Putting brush in bag on Table R., then smiling at EEL.)

EEL: You betcher! (Goes to mantle L. and leans against it thoughtfully.)

GOLDIE: (Coming C.) What's on your mind now?

EEL: I was just thinkin' of that first job I'd have to do when we get to Chi.

GOLDIE: What do you mean?

EEL: Gee, Goldie, I hate to go back to the old life. (Sits on sofa L.)

GOLDIE: Old life? I thought you said we was goin' to begin all over again, and live like decent, respectable people?

EEL: I know, but you've got to have money to be respectable.

GOLDIE: Well, we'll get the money.

EEL: That's what I hate about it. Having to get it that way.

GOLDIE: But Billy, I mean honestly, work for it.

EEL: (Rising and coming R.) Yes, but supposing we can't get work? And supposing we can't hold it after we do get it?

GOLDIE: If they go digging into our past, it'll be tough rowing. But there (caressing EEL.), don't let's worry till we come to the bridge. Wait until we get to Chicago. (Goes into bedroom and takes down coat which is hanging on door C.)

EEL: (Lies on couch L.) Have you got enough cale to carry us over there?

GOLDIE: (Brushing off coat at door C.) What?

EEL: I say, have you got enough money to hold us till we get to Chi?

GOLDIE: (C. looking in surprise.) Why no, Billy, I ain't got no money.

EEL: (Surprised, slowly rising from couch to sitting position.) What?

GOLDIE: I ain't got a cent. I thought you had the sugar.

EEL: Me?

GOLDIE: AIN'T you got no money neither?

EEL: (Throwing away cigarette and going R.) I ain't got enough money to buy the controlling interest in a rotten egg. (Goldie throws coat on couch.) How about that necklace?

GOLDIE: Why, Dugan's got it.

EEL: Well, how about your share?

GOLDIE: Well, he promised I was going to get five hundred out of it, but now that you're sprung, I suppose I'll have to whistle for it.

EEL: Well, I see where I have to get to work before we get to Chicago.

GOLDIE: (Turning him around quickly.) What do you mean?

EEL: Well, we've got to get to Chi, and as the railroads are very particular, somebody'll have to pay our fares. I won't be long. (Crosses L. in front of GOLDIE and gets hat and coat off of sofa. GOLDIE runs to door R., then as EEL turns:)

GOLDIE: Oh no, no, don't, please don't. We're going to be good, you said so yourself. We're going to travel the straight road.

EEL: (C. with hat and coat in hand.) But that road won't take us to Chi. (Pause.) You see, there's no other way out of it. (Starts toward door but GOLDIE stops him pleadingly.)

GOLDIE: Oh no, you musn't, you shan't. I won't go with you if you do. I won't go! I won't go! (Becomes hysterical, pounds on door, then begins to cry.)

EEL: (Putting arm around her.) There, there, don't cry. Look! (He turns her around and then puts his hat and coat in chair above door R.) (GOLDIE takes his hands in relief The EEL pats her cheek.) You see, I'll do as you say. (Crossing down C.) I'll cut it out.

GOLDIE: (Following the EEL and putting her arms around him.) I knew you would.

EEL: Oh, you did? Well, what's the next move?

GOLDIE: I don't know, Billy.

EEL: There you are. (Crosses L.) We're no better off than we were before. By Monday, Dugan'll have me back in the Tombs, maybe on a charge of murder. You know that he ain't going to rest while I'm loose.

GOLDIE: Then why not let me end it all?

EEL: Not by squealing.

GOLDIE: It will be that sooner or later.

EEL: (Coming R. slowly.) No, the best way is to let me go out and get some money. (Crossing GOLDIE and going toward hat and coat on chair R.)

GOLDIE: (Stopping him.) But, Billy, you promised me—

EEL: (Turning to GOLDIE.) I don't mean to rob anybody (Scratches head in puzzled way, then brightly, as thought strikes him), I mean to borrow it.

GOLDIE: (Joyfully.) Borrow it?

EEL: Yes, I'll knock a guy down, strip him of his leather, get his name and address, then when we get to Chicago, I'll send it back to him.

GOLDIE: (Shaking her head and smiling.) Oh no, it won't do.

EEL: Why?

GOLDIE: You might forget his address. (Going up C. into bedroom.) Now, you come and help me pack the trunk. (Stopping.) Oh Billy, come help me pull this trunk in there. (Disappearing to R. of trunk. EEL comes and takes L. end and they carry it into living room and place it C. under chandelier to open up stage. As they carry it down stage she speaks.) There are a few more things to go in.

EEL: (As they set trunk down.) I've got it.

GOLDIE: What?

EEL: I know where I can get that money.

GoLDffi: Where?

EEL: Isaacson.

GOLDIE: What Isaacson?

EEL: Why the fence on Second Ave. I'm aces with him.

GOLDIE: Yes, but what have you got to pawn?

EEL: I don't need nothing. I've thrown thousands of dollars his way in business, he'll lend me a century sure. I'll be back in fifteen minutes. (Goes to chair and gets coat and hat, then starts for door R.)

GOLDIE: Wait! (Crosses to mantel L. and gets keys from up stage end.) Here, take my keys. (Coming back to C. above trunk where EEL meets her putting on coat and hat.) To make sure, we'd better work on signals.

EEL: (Taking keys.) How do you mean?

GOLDIE: In case anything happens while you're gone, when you come back, ring the bell downstairs three times. If I don't answer, everything's O. K., come up; but if I do answer, don't come up, see?

EEL: If you don't answer, everything's all right, come up; but if you do answer, don't come up.

GOLDIE: That's it.

EEL: I got you. (Goes to door R. Opens it quickly to see if anyone is there. Closes door, footsteps are heard in hall, then going downstairs, then door slams.)

GOLDIE: (Listens intently until door slams, then begins to pack trunk. Opens trunk first. Gets jacket from couch where she has thrown it, puts it in trunk. Goes up into bedroom and gets skirt which hangs out of sight on end of dresser. Comes down C. shaking skirt. Long, low whistle stops her, then club raps.) Bull's!! (Looks up at light burning, turns it out and closes the trunk at the same time. Stands still until she sees the shadow of man's hand in the moonlight on the wall R. Frightened exclamation, then cowers on sofa. DUGAN appears at window, looks in, then raises window and enters, closing window after him. Takes gun out of pocket, then goes up into kitchen and bedroom. At door C. he sees GOLDIE, points gun at her.

DUGAN: Ah! (GOLDIE springs to her feet with frightened exclamation, and DUGAN says:) don't squawk or I'll pop sure!

GOLDIE: (Nervously.) Me squawk? What do you think I am, a school teacher?

DUGAN: (Goes to door R., opens it to see if anyone is there, closes it and locks door. Comes to C., turns on light, then puts gun in pocket. Coming L. to GOLDIE.) I don't want to frighten you.

GOLDIE: (L. nervously.) I know, but one look at you would scare some people to death.

DUGAN: Am I that homely?

GOLDIE: Homely? Why an undershot bulldog is a peacock, 'long side of you.

DUGAN: Ain't I welcome?

GOLDIE: You're about as welcome as a rainy holiday. (Sits on sofa.)

DUGAN: Say, Goldie, we've been almost more than friends in the last two years.

GOLDIE: You mean almost friends. (Rising.) Never more. Dugan, you know why I've been your go-between in the System. Because you promised to let up on the Eel.

DUGAN: I'll never let up on him. He's a crook.

GOLDIE: Well, what are you? (Turns L. away from DUGAN.)

DUGAN: Don't get sore, Goldie. You know I want you for myself. (Puts his arms around GOLDIE'S waist.)

GOLDIE: Well, you're wasting time. (Pulls savagely away from him and crosses R.)

DUGAN: (Following GOLDIE R.) Am I? I'll get you, or I'll send you both up for years.

GOLDIE: (Savagely into DUGAN's face.) Is that why you had me steal that necklace?

DUGAN: Yes, if you want to know it, I've been trying for two years to get something on you, and now I've got you.

GOLDIE: Well, suppose I squeal.

DUGAN: It's my word against yours, the word of an officer against a crook.

GOLDIE: Say, Dugan, if looks of contempt would hurt a man's feelings, I'd disable you with a squint. (DUGAN goes L., getting necklace out of pocket; GOLDIE is in panic for fear EEL will ring the bell, but she crosses and sits on trunk.)

DUGAN: Goldie, this necklace will bring four thousand dollars from a Buffalo fence, and if you'll say three words, "I love you," the price is yours. Won't you say them, Goldie? Just three words?

GOLDIE: (Thinks it over, then looks at DUGAN.) Go—to—Hell.

DUGAN: (Going L. puts back necklace and takes out red wallet, then comes C. to GOLDIE.) Well, how does this strike you? Here's twenty thousand dollars. It's all yours for the asking. Twenty thousand dollars. (Sits on trunk beside GOLDIE.)

GOLDIE: Gee, but you're doing a land office business.

DUGAN: I've got no kick coming. Why say, I can take care of you in real style. Why waste your time on the EEL? I can make more money in a week than he can steal in a year.

GOLDIE: That's because you're a better thief than he is. (Rises and goes R.)

DUGAN: I wouldn't say that. (Following GOLDIE R.) Come on, Goldie (putting his arms around her, with purse in front of her face), what's the answer?

GOLDIE: (Apparently weakening.) Twenty thousand dollars! Gee, that's a lot of money, and I could live right.

DUGAN: (Greedily, as though he has won her.) Sure you could. I'd set you up like a Queen, and between us we could milk the Tenderloin dry.

GOLDIE: But the Eel?

DUGAN: (Crossing L. and putting wallet away.) I'll attend to him! (Then to GOLDIE who has come L.) Listen to this! Ten minutes after you two were turned loose, an old man was beaten and robbed, not two blocks from here. He never came to! (GOLDIE backs R. in horror. DUGAN follows.) He died on his way to Bellevue. Do you know who the murderer is? I'm here to arrest him on the charge of murder.

GOLDIE: (In mad rage.) You lie, Dugan! Billy said you'd frame him, but you won't this time—(GOLDIE flies at DUGAN as though to scratch his eyes out, but he struggles with her and throws her to the floor L.) No, Dugan, not murder, that would mean the chair! (GOLDIE on knees pleading to DUGAN. Bell rings three times, they both start. DUGAN puzzled and surprised, and GOLDIE terror-stricken, wondering what to do. Then the thought of the bell on the wall comes. Looking at DUGAN with a forced smile and still on the floor.) Oh, I wonder who that can be? (By the last two words she is on her feet and makes a dash for the bell up L., but DUGAN reaches it firse.)

DUGAN: No, you don't. I'm wise. "If I answer, don't come up." (GOLDIE, in disgusted rage, goes down to head of couch, followed by DUGAN.) Old stuff, Goldie. Let him come, I want him. (Door slams off stage. GOLDIE starts and DUGAN goes to door R. and unlocks it. They both stand rigid. DUGAN with gun in hand, while footsteps come nearer. As door opens and EEL enters.)

GOLDIE: Look out, Billy! (DUGAN grabs EEL'S hand and throws him in the room and locks the door. While he is doing this EEL runs across room over trunk and disappears behind sofa. When DUGAN turns, he can't locate EEL and points gun up into bedroom.)

DUGAN: Hands up, Billy! Hands up! (He then locates EEL behind sofa.) I won't tell you again! Hands up! (The EEL holds hands up and appears behind sofa.) (GOLDIE is up C. behind trunk.) Goldie, frisk him clean. (GOLDIE protests.) Come on! Come on! (DUGAN points gun at EEL, and GOLDIE runs to him and goes through his pockets. She finds tobacco bag which she hands to DUGAN. He doesn't take it, and she drops it on floor.) Get to his gun pocket. Get to his gun pocket. (GOLDIE hesitates, then goes to EEL'S hip pocket, where she finds a roll of money. She tries to put it back but DUGAN sees it.) Come on, hand it over. (GOLDIE appeals to the EEL who pantomimes to do so, and she hands it to DUGAN.) This is the money he took from the man he killed. (Putting money into red wallet and returning wallet to pocket.)

EEL: Do you think I'd frisk a stiff? Let me tell you something, Dugan. (Throwing hat on floor.) You staked me two years ago in the Pen, and then tried to make me believe that Goldie was in on the frame. You lied like a yellow dog, Dugan, and you know it. Yes, I am a crook and a thief, and I've robbed a lot of people, but I'm just a little bit above you, Dugan, just a little bit above you. Because, I never took money from a woman, and that's part of your graft. (DUGAN takes out gun as though to hit EEL with it. GOLDIE grabs his arm and bites his hand and he drops the gun; Noise begins off stage. GOLDIE runs to door R. while EEL and DUGAN struggle. DUGAN throws EEL off and goes toward window L. EEL sees gun on floor R., runs and gets it, but GOLDIE prevents his shooting it. The Police break in the door at this point. One catches GOLDIE as she is running toward the window L. Another, who comes through the window, catches the EEL. The Inspector stands at door R., crowd back of him. DUGAN comes down to him.)

DUGAN: Well, Inspector, I got him. He robbed and croaked an old man. I got him with the goods on!

INSPECTOR: Let these people go! (Pointing to DUGAN.) There's your man, arrest him! (GOLDIE and the EEL are released.)

DUGAN: Inspector, you've got nothing on me.

INSPECTOR: No? (Crossing to DUGAN.) Well, there's a dictagraph in this room (GOLDIE rushes into EEL'S arms.), and we've got everything on you, you dog. You're a disgrace to all mankind. It is unclean curs like you that have bred a cancer in the department, and pointed the finger of suspicion at ten thousand honest policemen. But that cancer must be cut out, and the operation begins now. Take him away. (Policemen hand-cuff DUGAN, who struggles, then resignedly walks off, preceded and followed by police. The INSPECTOR follows them, but stops and turns at door R.) Well, Billy! (EEL and GOLDIE come C. and stand in front of trunk.)

EEL: Well, Inspector?

INSPECTOR: If you're going to live square, stick to it. (EEL takes GOLDIE'S hand.) I never want to see you at headquarters again. (EEL drops his head and GOLDIE puts her arm around him.) I won't even need you as a witness. The dictagraph has recorded all. (EEL and GOLDIE pleased.) Good-night! (INSPECTOR exits, closing door after him.)

EEL and GOLDIE: Good-night, Inspector! (They both listen until his footsteps die off, and door slams. Then EEL runs to door to listen, and GOLDIE sits dejectedly on trunk.)

GOLDIE: Well, we're broke again. (Tearfully.) We can't go West now, so there's no use packing. (The EEL goes stealthily to window L., looks out, pulls dictagraph from wall, then comes down R. of GOLDIE who is sitting on trunk and has watched him. He taps her on the shoulder, taking DUGAN'S red wallet out of pocket.)

EEL: Go right ahead and pack! (GOLDIE looks astounded, and begins to laugh.)

CURTAIN

First picture. (Both sitting on trunk counting money.)



A PERSIAN GARDEN

A MUSICAL COMEDY IN ONE ACT

BOOKS AND LYRICS BY EDGAR ALLAN WOOLF Author of "The Lollard," "The Lady of the Press," "A College Proposition," "Master Willie Hewes, or The Lady of the Sonnets," Etc., Etc.

MUSIC BY ANATOL FRIEDLAND Composer of "My Little Dream Girl," "My Sweet Adair," Etc., Etc.

A PERSIAN GARDEN CHARACTERS (Order in which they appear.)

ROSE DUDLEY STANFORD LETTY PHIL BETTY DOWLEH SHEIK ABU MIRZAH NEHMID DUCKIN MRS. SCHUYLER HAMILTON SCHUYLER PAUL MORGAN

SCENE

The Rose Gardens of the American Legation in Persia—the entrance to the building on left. Large Persian jardinieres on right with a large Persian Rose Tree.

OPENING NUMBER

ROSE: "The Girl in the Persian Rug." After number off stage is heard in old man's voice: "Illa au Rose aboukar."

GIRLS: (Running up.) Oh—here comes the old Sheik now. (Enter the old SHEIK ABU MIRZAH preceded by Persian servant.)

ABU: Ah—ma Rosa Persh—ma waf to be—to-morrow we marry, eh? (The SHEIK carries eartrumpet.)

ROSE: (Running from him in alarm.) Oh, don't touch me—don't—don't! (They are both yelling at each other as MRS. SCHUYLER enters first arch and sees ROSE'S actions—she is flashy—an ex-chorus girl—married to the retiring consul.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Say, tie a can to that duet. What's the matter?

ROSE: (Crossing to her.) Oh, Mrs. Schuyler, I won't marry him—I hate him!

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh, the poor old prune. (Crossing to ABU, garrulously.) How are you, Sheik? Our little ward, Rose, is so young and foolish! But I was just that innocent when I was in the chorus. When I came out of it, believe me, I was a different woman. (Enter Persian servant.)

SERVANT: The new consul wants to know when we are going to move out—

MRS. SCHUYLER: Not till after Rose's wedding to-morrow. (ROSE utters exclamation of rage, slaps the SHEIK'S face and exits.) I was just that emotional until I'd been married a few times—Come, Sheik—my husband won't return from Tabris till this evening—join me in a cocktail. (She illustrates drink in pantomime.)

ABU: (Understanding pantomime.) Yes! Yes! (LETTY and BETTY go up to table and chair C.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Mousta, two cocktails on my back porch. Come, Sheik—Sheik! (Business with girls.) This way to the dog house. (Takes hold of chain on his ear trumpet and passes him in. Girls have gone off.) Oh—and, Mousta—don't put any cherries in—they take up too much room in the glass. (She exits one way—Waiter, another.)

(MUSIC. Entrance of men.)

PAUL: (Entering with DUDLEY.) Well, there are some beautiful girls in our new Persian home—has Phil brought our things from the boat? Phil! Phil! (Phil enters with all the luggage.)

PHIL: (Meekly.) Here I am, sir.—

PAUL: (As if brushing mosquitoes away.) Oh gee! these Persian mosquitoes! (Finally kills one on his own face.)

PHIL: (Hungrily.) When are we going to have lunch, sir?

PAUL: Well, there are several little things I want you to do first. (Whacking him on one side of face.) Another mosquito.

PHIL: (Gratefully.) Oh, thank you, sir.

DUDLEY: Paul, you look as if you were mashed on that Madison girl—(Sees mosquito on PHIL's face.) Another mosquito. (Whacks him on other side of face.)

PHIL: Oh, thank you, sir—I have never seen such extreme kindness. (Both whack him this time—one on each side of face.)

PAUL: Ho! Ho! Two of them this time.

PHIL: Probably twins.

DUDLEY: I'll go in and see when the retiring consul will move out.

PAUL: All right, and I'll get a bite of luncheon awhile. (DUDLEY exits.)

PHIL: (Hungrily.) Oh—are you going to have your luncheon alone? (PAUL sees mosquito on PHIL—is about to kill it—PHIL falls back.) Ah—let it live—let it live.

PAUL: Now—you run in the house and take our things out of the grips.

PHIL: Is there any other little thing I can do for you?

PAUL: Not till after I've had my lunch.

PHIL: Thank you, sir! (PHIL looks a starved look at him—exits into house—stumbling over bundles.) (ROSE is heard singing off-stage chorus of "My Little Persian Rose"—enters humming.)

PAUL: (As he hears her singing.) It's Miss Madison—I know her sweet voice!

ROSE: (As she enters and sees PAUL, she stops singing, embarrassed.) Oh, I didn't know you were here. (The music continues faintly in orchestra.)

PAUL: I'm not—I'm in heaven when I hear you sing.

ROSE: Oh, I hope you don't mean my singing kills you.

PAUL: No—for then, I'm afraid I wouldn't be in heaven. What was that song?

ROSE: An old Persian poet taught me the words.

PAUL: (Ardently.) Oh, how I love—those words. Are you going back to America with Mr. and Mrs. Schuyler?

ROSE: (Sadly.) No, I must stay here in Persia.

PAUL: (Forgetting himself.) Hooray!

ROSE: Ah—but you don't know.

PAUL: Know what?

ROSE: Don't ask me now—good day, sir. (She courtesies and runs off.)

(Music in orchestra stops.)

PAUL: I wonder what she meant by that?

PHIL: (Rushing on.) I've taken out your things. Now, may I eat? (Persian servant enters in haste.)

SERVANT: Oh please, sir, the Sheik has drunk three cocktails, and Mrs. Schuyler says he is disgusting. Quick, get someone to take him home.

PAUL: Phil—do you hear? The Sheik's disgusting—take him home. (Servants exit.)

PHIL: (As he exits.) Is there any little thing I can do for you?

PAUL: Not just now. (PHIL exits.) The melody of that song haunts me. (He starts to hum it.) (PHIL enters with SHEIK on his shoulders—struggles to get him off. Finally exits with him. As he exits, MRS. SCHUYLER enters first arch.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: I hope he gets the old fool home, all right. (Sees PAUL.) Oho—it looks good to mother. (Business of humming same song.)

PAUL: (Turning and seeing her, with great surprise.) Agnes!

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Startled.) Mercy, where was I Agnes?

PAUL: (Crosses to MRS. SCHUYLER.) Have you forgotten—the summer I met you in Niagara Falls?

MRS. SCHUYLER: Niagara Falls? I must have been on one of my honeymoons—oh, yes—of course—Mr. Morgan. (They shake hands.) You see, I've met so many mushy men. (He sighs.) What makes you look so unhappy?

PAUL: I'm in love with a girl.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Only one? Why so economical?

PAUL: Ah—I'm afraid you don't know what real love is.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh, yes I do! Real love is the kind that lasts after you've heard a man sleeping right out loud. Who's the girl?

PAUL: Miss Madison.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Surprised.) Our Rose? Not on your life. To-morrow, before we return to America, she's to marry the Abu Mirzah, and nothing can prevent it.

PAUL: (In horror.) She's being sacrificed to that old mummy—I'll kill him.

MRS. SCHUYLER: The doctors say he is so strong, nothing can kill him, except his fondness for Persian plums, and there is a mandate out inflicting death upon any man who sends him any. (ROSE enters.)

PAUL: (Crossing to her.) Oh, Miss Madison, I've just heard—

MRS. SCHUYLER: Rose—go to the grape arbor at once—I'll join you there presently. (DUDLEY enters.)

DUDLEY: Say, Paul—I—(Sees MRS. SCHUYLER—with surprise.) Lena—

MRS. SCHUYLER: Du, "Allmaechtiger Strohsach"—where was I Lena?

DUDLEY: Have you forgotten, in Germany, Unter den Linden?

MRS. SCHUYLER: Germany? Oh, the man who made love to me over a plate of frankfurters? Well—well—wie geht's! Tell me, do you think I've grown stouter since the days when I was Lena? (PAUL laughs.)

DUDLEY: Not a bit. (PAUL and ROSE laugh.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Seeing ROSE and PAUL in earnest conversation.) Excuse me. (She crosses and grabs ROSE.) Rose, there's some grape juice waiting for us in the grape arbor. (She sends ROSE off.) (Boys step toward MRS. SCHUYLER.) Boys—later—when Rose has gone, you may come and crush a grape with me in the arbor. (She exits.)

PAUL: Aber nit! Dud, she's determined to keep us apart—you must help me—go and grab her, and run her off into the house.

DUDLEY: Lena—not much—she once flung a glass at my head.

PAUL: Well, then, where's Phil? (Calls.) Phil—Phil! (DUDLEY calls also. PHIL rushes on.)

PHIL: Am I going to eat?

PAUL: Quick, go and grab Mrs. Schuyler in the grape arbor.

PHIL: Grab her in the grape arbor?

PAUL: (Pushing them off.) And run her into the house. Quick. (He pushes PHIL off one way.) And you run into the house and hold her there. (Rushes DUDLEY into house.) I'll run to the grape arbor to join Rose when she's alone. (He exits.) (PHIL enters, pushing MRS. SCHUYLER toward the house. They enter from grape arbor.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Beating him with parasol.) The idea! What's the meaning of this? You little runt! (Pushing him off.) (Ad lib talk.) Who are you, anyhow?

PHIL: (Turning and seeing her.) Maggie!

MRS. SCHUYLER: (As before.) For the love of the Chambermaids' Union, where was I Maggie?

PHIL: Don't you remember when I was a "merry merry" with you in the "Blonde Broilers' Burlesque" troupe?

MRS. SCHUYLER: Were you one of the Blonde Broilers?

PHIL: Sure, I was the fellow that came out in the last act disguised as a bench.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Finally remembering him.) Oh, you dear old Benchie! (They embrace.) And I used to come in and sit all over you.

PHIL: That's how I came to fall in love with you.

MRS. SCHUYLER: A man always thinks more of a woman when she sits on him.

PHIL: Do she?

MRS. SCHUYLER: She do.

PHIL: Come and sit on me now.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Coyly.) Oh, you fascinating devil.

PHIL: Ah, go on—ah, sit on me. (Business of sitting—nearly flopping—finally getting on his knee.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: You're not the bench you used to be!

PHIL: You're not the sitter you used to be.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Remember the night you let me flop?

PHIL: I couldn't get into my part at all that night. I kept saying to myself: Phillip, be a bench, be a bench; but when I felt you near me, all the benchiness left me. When you sat on me, I put my arms about you, like this. (Does so.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Ah—how it all comes back to me now! When you would put your arms about me, I would close my eyes and make believe it was Otis Skinner. (Business.)

PHIL: And then before all the crowd, I kissed you so. (He illustrates as PAUL enters with ROSE from arbor.)

PAUL: (Seeing PHIL and MRS. SCHUYLER.) Well—(They break apart.) I'm surprised!

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Works PHIL around to hide him first, then turns him around to PAUL.) You wouldn't be if you were as used to it as I am.

PAUL: (Aside to PHIL.) What did I tell you to do?

(PHIL seizes MRS. SCHUYLER and runs her into house—she saying: "What's the idea," etc., till off.) (Sunset falls upon scene.)

SONG—PAUL and ROSE—"My Little Persian Rose." (ROSE exits at end of song.)

PAUL: (Left alone.) I won't let her marry him. (A girl passes, crying out "Persian Plums—who will buy?")

PAUL: Persian Plums—Mrs. Schuyler said the old Sheik had such a passion for them, they might prove his death. Here! Girl—let me have a basket. (Hands her a roll of money.) There! (As he comes down with plums, the girl exits.) But she said whoever was caught sending him any would suffer the penalty of death. (Gets idea and calls off.) Phil—Phil! (Moonlight effect. As PHIL enters, anxiously, PAUL extends the basket of plums to him.)

PHIL: (Taking plums, greedily.) Oh thanks, I was starving—

PAUL: (Stopping him as he is about to eat.) Here—here—they're not for you. Quick—take them to the palace of the old Sheik Abu Mirzah.

PHIL: But I left him asleep in his bed, sir.

PAUL: Well, place them where he'll see them when he wakes, and (ominously) don't let anyone catch you with them, for the country is full of revolutionists and it might mean death.

PHIL: (Trembling.) My death! Is there any other little thing I can do for you?

PAUL: No. (Several pistol shots are heard. PHIL drops plums and starts to run into house. PAUL catches him by the hair—business.) You coward! I'm surprised! Go to the Palace of the Abu Mirzah. (He places basket in PHIL's hands.) Go!

(As PHIL backs off with plums, he bumps into a fierce looking Persian who enters. PHIL starts and has comedy exit. The Persian is the Emir Shahrud, who has disguised himself as DOWLEH the chef. DOWLEH grinds his teeth at PAUL, who runs off.)

(DOWLEH sneaks over to house mysteriously—sees someone coming, and then runs and hides behind rosebush.)

(Now, moonlight floods scene. MRS. SCHUYLER enters in evening gown with LETTY and BETTY. Waiter enters and sets two tables.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Turn up the lights!

LETTY: Our last night in Persia.

MRS. SCHUYLER: I've ordered my "paflouka" out here. (MRS. SCHUYLER crosses to rosebush and, DOWLER jumps out at her.) Mercy—how you scared me!

DOWLEH: Fatima!

MRS. SCHUYLER: Now, I'm a cigarette!

DOWLEH: You are cruel to me—the noble Prince of Persia, who just to be near you, disguised himself as a cook.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Prince, I eat your cooking—that's kind enough.

DOWLEH: (Business.) Yes, I love you so that one day I hear a lady say you paint your face—I put a secret poison in her food—she took one taste—in ten seconds, she die.

MRS. SCHUYLER: It serves her right for telling the truth.

DOWLEH: Come! Fly with me!

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh Prince, I've flown so much in my days, there isn't another flap left in me. (Throws him off.) Go—serve my "paflouka!"

DOWLEH: You throw me down—very well—I will be revenged. (Grinds his teeth in her ear.) Mmmm-ha!

MRS. SCHUYLER: (With start, holding ear.) He bit me. (The girls come down as DOWLEH goes off bumping into DUDLEY, who enters in dress clothes—he swears at DUDLEY, in Persian and exits.)

DUDLEY: (To MRS. SCHUYLER.) Oh Lena—if it's you that has made him mad, I'd advise you not to taste any of his food again.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Why?

DUDLEY: I just heard he's under suspicion of having put poison in a lady's food, which killed her in ten seconds.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Ten seconds! Then it was true. (Waiter enters with "paftouka.") Oh my beautiful paflouka—and it smells so good.

DUDLEY: But Lena—you daren't touch it unless you get someone to try it first.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Will you?

DUDLEY: Excuse me. (She turns to the three—they all decline.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh, if heaven would only send some unsuspecting imbecile to taste my paflouka for me—(PHIL backs on from grape arbor—looking to see if he's being followed.) Heaven has sent it hither. (She steps PHIL's way. As he bumps into her, he starts.) Hello!

PHIL: (After start.) Hello.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Why, what's the matter?

PHIL: Oh, I'm faint—for food.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Aside to others.) Oh, it's a shame to do it. (To PHIL.) How would you like to "paflouka" with me?

PHIL: (After business.) No—before I do anything else, I must eat.

MRS. SCHUYLER: To "paflouka" is to eat.

PHIL: Well—hurry—let's do it.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (To waiter.) Now, Mousta place my "rakoush" before him.

PHIL: (As waiter places soup and roll before him.) Oh, it looks like soup.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Crossing to him.) I always start with something hot.

PHIL: (Takes spoonful.) It is soup! (As he goes for second spoonful, they hold his hand.)

WARNING: Could not break paragraph: MRS. SCHUYLER: (Counting.) One—two—three—four—five—six— seven—eight—nine—ten—(Looking at him.) How do you feel?

PHIL: (Completely puzzled.) Well, I can't say I feel just full yet.

DUDLEY: Go on, take a bite of roll.

PHIL: Thank you! (He takes one bite—as he goes for second bite, DUDLEY holds his hand—as they all count ten. Looking from one to another.) Say, what is this—a prize fight?

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Looking at him closely.) (DUDLEY takes roll from PHIL.) It's all right—he still lives—I feel better now.

PHIL: I'm glad of that. (He starts to take another spoonful of soup.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Mousta, bring my rakoush. (Just as PHIL gets spoon to mouth, MOUSTA grabs it out of his hand and crosses with soup and roll to MRS. SCHUYLER, saying to PHIL in Persian: "Rekkra milta suss.")

PHIL: Say, isn't there some mistake? I understood that was my rakoush.

MRS. SCHUYLER: No, dear boy—it's ours. (She starts to eat.)

PHIL: I guess that's what they call to paflouka.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh, it tastes good.

PHIL: It sounds good.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Now, Mousta, my bird and salad. (He exits.)

PHIL: I hope the bird's an ostrich. (He hears MRS. SCHUYLER drink soup.) (Enter MOUSTA—crosses with bird to MRS. SCHUYLER.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: No—place it before him.

PHIL: Yes—put it down—put it down.

MRS. SCHUYLER: No one can cook a bird like Princey.

PHIL: A bird? It looks like an insect! (He sees them approaching him as before and grabbing the bird in his hand starts to make off with it—they seize him and throw him into chair.)

PHIL: (As DUDLEY snatches bird from him.) Say, what kind of a game is this anyhow?

MRS. SCHUYLER: I'll explain. The chef is enraged at me, and as he's under suspicion of having put poison in a lady's food that killed her in ten seconds—

PHIL: (Jumping up in alarm.) Poison?

MRS. SCHUYLER: (With DUDLEY'S help setting him down again.) Yes, so we got you to try my food on—

PHIL: Oh, I see—I'm the dog.

DUDLEY: Precisely. Now go on—taste that bird.

PHIL: No, thanks—I've had enough.

ALL: (Together.) Go on—commence! (Business of making him taste bird.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: One—

PHIL: (Finishing counting for her.) Two—(To nine.) (As he reaches ten, he sneezes.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: I'm afraid to look. (Business of PHIL tasting bird, then getting idea of pretending to be poisoned, he commences to get a fit.) Help! Bring a chair! (They finally get his feet on chair.) Well, we got him on the chair anyhow.

DUDLEY: He's poisoned—

LETTY and BETTY: We've killed him.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Come on—let's beat it—(They all run off. PHIL gets up to grab all the food, when DUDLEY is heard off, calling "Lena."—He flops back with a jump to same dead position on floor. Finally gets up, grabs all the food and exits. MRS. SCHUYLER re-enters.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: He's gone and he's taken all the food with him. Quick, Mousta, clear away all these things. (Paul enters.)

PAUL: Mrs. Schuyler, I'm really in love with Rose. (DOWLEH enters now in Persian dress clothes.)

DOWLEH: Ah, Fatima—can I see you alone? (DUDLEY enters.)

DUDLEY: Oh, Lena, could I see you alone?

MRS. SCHUYLER: If any more turn up, I'll scream. (LETTY and BETTY run on, carrying a note.)

LETTY: An important letter.

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Opening it.) From my husband.

BETTY: I'm afraid it's bad news.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Bad news! P'raps he's coming home earlier than I expected. (Reads:) "Dear Becky!"

ALL THE MEN: Becky!

MRS. SCHUYLER: Yes, we met at Arverne! "I have heard of your carrying on with four old sweethearts: Had it been one, I would have killed him quietly and let the matter drop, but four are too many. I shall kill them all and divorce you. Expect me at ten.—Hamilton." Oh, gentlemen, this is awful—Hamilton is unlike most men—he means what he says—

PAUL: (Following.) But surely you can find a few more to help us defend ourselves.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Ah, you don't know Hamilton. When he's angry, an army couldn't withstand him.

DOWLEH: If your husband kills, I will kill him.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Ah, that doesn't worry me—but he may cut my allowance.

DUDLEY: (Following.) We must save you from such a fate.

MRS. SCHUYLER: Save me? You could! If there was one among you brave enough to say: "I am the only guy here ever loved your wife. Kill me, but don't cut her allowance."

MEN: (Going up stage.) Excuse me! (Waiter enters with straws in glass, from arbor.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: Ah—straws—the very thing—gentlemen. (Takes them out of glasses.) Come—choose—whoever has the shortest straw is to show his courage and die for me—who is it? Who is it? (PHIL enters—they see him—drop straws—and seize him.)

PAUL: Phil!

MEN: Ah! Welcome to our city. Welcome! Welcome!

PHIL: Is there any little thing I can do for you?

MRS. SCHUYLER: Yes. My husband will be here at any moment to kill these gentlemen and divorce me. You can save us all by saying you are the only old sweetheart of mine here.

PHIL: Excuse me!

MRS. SCHUYLER: Oh, Benchie! Think of your bench days when I used to sit on you—

PHIL: If you'd only sit on me now, I'd feel safer—

PAUL: Now don't be a fool. When he comes, say: "I am the only man here ever had an affair with your wife. What have you to say about it?"

ALL: (Together.) Repeat that now.

PHIL: (In terror.) I am the only man here ever had anything to do with your wife—just like that. (An automobile horn heard.)

GIRLS: Oh, here he is—(They run off. Business of men holding PHIL and finally rushing off as an enormous figure in Persian "get-up" enters.)

MRS. SCHUYLER: (Picking up PHIL.) Benchie, it's sweet and accommodating of you to die for these three gentlemen—a favor I shan't forget. (From behind the Persian giant steps a midget in swell citizen clothes)—"It's Hamilton—(Mrs. Schuyler picks him up and kisses him.) Oh, Hamilton-I'm so glad you've come. (Crossing to Persian.) And Nehmid Duckin—it is an honor to have the prime minister with us. I'll go for a stroll with you and come back when (Turning to husband) you're through with this gentleman.

NEHMID: (In deep voice.) Is he the one?

MRS. SCHUYLER: Yes—you're looking great. (Takes his arm.)

NEHMID: So are you! (In deep tones to PHIL.) And now sir, you explain. (Exits with Mrs. Schuyler.) (PHIL stands in terror, thinking a powerful foe stands behind him. In reality, it is the midget husband. PHIL tries to talk. At first he cannot.)

PHIL: (After comedy biz.) I have a wife with an affair—I mean an affair with your wife—what have you to say about it?

MR. SCHUYLER: (In piping voice.) I'm very angry. (PHIL starts—looks up to see where voice comes from—doesn't see anyone—walks and bumps into HAMILTON—rolls up his sleeves.)

PHIL: (Bravely.) What have you to say about it? (Slaps his hand over his mouth.) Don't say a word—I've been waiting for something like you to show up. (He backs HAMILTON off—his hand on his face.)

FINALE: (During this, ROSE enters in bridal costume to be wed to SHEIK. Servant enters announcing his death from eating Persian Plums.

SONG: "Who Sent These Persian Plums?"

Then, final meeting and happiness of lovers and comedy characters and picture as "My Little Persian Rose" is repeated for

CURTAIN



MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME

A BURLESQUE IN ONE ACT

BY JAMES MADISON

Author of "Love Blossoms," "Cohen from Bridgeport," "Before and After," Monologues for Nat M. Wills, Joe Welch, Etc., Etc., Author and Publisher "Madison's Budget."

MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME CHARACTERS

OLD BLACK JOE . . . . . . . . An ex-slave, eighty years of age ARTHUR MAYNARD. . . . . . . . . Owner of a Kentucky Plantation VIOLA MAYNARD . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . His Daughter CHARLIE DOOLITTLE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Her Sweetheart EDGAR TREMBLE. . . . . . . . . . . . . . With a heart of stone MRS. ALICE WILSON. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . A frail widow HARVEY SLICK . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . An adventurer FELIX FAKE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . His assistant CHLORINDA SOURGRASS. . . . . . . . . . . . . . A lady of color CISSIE, LOTTIE, FANNIE, TILLIE, GOLDIE, DORA, MAGGIE, MABEL, GERTIE. . . . . . . . . . . . Invited Guests

SCENE: Garden of ARTHUR MAYNARD'S plantation. Landscape backing. Set house at left with practical veranda (if possible). Wood wings at right. Set tree up stage at right behind which old pocketbook containing a number of greenbacks is concealed. Bench in front of tree. Pedestal up stage at left, dog-house at right.

DISCOVERED: (At rise of curtain an invisible CHORUS is heard singing "My Old Kentucky Home." Then GOLDIE and other invited girl friends come on stage and sing a MEDLEY OF POPULAR CHORUSES. At conclusion of medley, VIOLA enters from house.)

VIOLA: Girls, do you know why I've invited you all today?

FANNIE: To tell us that you're engaged to be married.

VIOLA: Nothing so fortunate. This is my father's birthday, and I've arranged a little celebration in his honor, and I want you all to participate.

LOTTIE: We won't do a thing but enjoy ourselves.

VIOLA: But there's one dark cloud, girls.

(CHLORINDA enters from house.)

TILLIE: Yes, here comes the dark cloud now.

VIOLA: The dark cloud I refer to is Mrs. Wilson, who calls herself a widow and who has been hanging around father for the last few months in the hope that he'll make her Mrs. Maynard number two.

DORA: The hussy!

MAGGIE: The cat!

VIOLA: I wouldn't care if she loved father, but I suspect that all she's after is his money.

CHLORINDA: His mazuma.

GERTIE: Get on to the African Jew!

LOTTIE: Any woman that wants to fool your father has to get up early in the morning.

VIOLA: Mrs. Wilson sometimes looks as if she stays up all night. (All girls laugh.)

VIOLA: If she only knew that the old plantation is mortgaged up to the roof, I guess she wouldn't be so anxious about marrying father.

VIOLA: (To CHLORINDA.) Well, Chlorinda, what brings you out here?

CHLORINDA: I jes' came out to say dat refreshments am ready in de house if de young ladies am thirsty or hungry.

(CHORUS by ladies of company, then they exit into house. VIOLA remains on stage.)

(CHARLIE DOOLITTLE enters from R. and stealing up softly behind VIOLA, puts his hands over her eyes.)

CHARLIE: Guess who it is?

VIOLA: Is it a human being?

CHARLIE: (Effeminately.) Why, I like that! Of course, it is.

VIOLA: It's Lottie.

CHARLIE: No.

VIOLA: Then it's Fanny.

CHARLIE: No.

VIOLA: Then it must be Lillie.

CHARLIE: No; you silly goose, it's Charlie.

VIOLA: (In disgust.) I thought you said it was a human being?

CHARLIE: Just for that you must sit down on the bench and give me a kiss.

VIOLA: Wait a minute till I go into the house and get a veil. The sunlight hurts my eyes. (She exits at L.)

CHARLIE: (Moving towards R.) That will just give me time to go into the grove and smoke a cigarette. (Exits.)

(Enter CHLORINDA from house. She has a green veil on, which hides her face; she sits down on bench.)

CHLORINDA: Ebery wench on dis plantation has got a fellah 'ceptin me, so I went to a fortune tellah an' she said Ah should sit on dis heah bench ebery day and ah nice fellah would come along. Well, I'se been doing it now for ovah a month an' Ah habent seen no nice fellah yet; in fact, Ah habent seen a fellah of any kind.

(Enter CHARLIE from R.)

CHARLIE: Ah, there, my sugar plum.

CHLORINDA: Ain't he jes' too sweet for anything?

CHARLIE: So you love your baby?

CHLORINDA: 'Deed I do, honey.

CHARLIE: Then lay your beautiful head on my manly breast and let me pour sweet words of love into your ear.

CHLORINDA: Go to it, kiddo. (Business of CHARLIE petting CHLORINDA.)

CHARLIE: And now, ain't you going to, give me a nice, sweet kiss, darling?

CHLORINDA: Help yourself to as many as you want.

(CHLORINDA lifts veil just enough to let CHARLIE touch her lips. He does not, however, notice that she is colored, and is busily engaged hugging and kissing her, as VIOLA enters from house; she is very much surprised.)

VIOLA: Charlie Doolittle, what does this mean? (CHLORINDA raises her veil, then laughs and runs into house.)

CHARLIE: (Discovering his error.) Why, my dear, it's all a mistake; I thought—that is to say—er—

VIOLA: I'm not surprised at your embarrassment. The idea of making love to our colored cook the minute my back is turned.

CHARLIE: If you'll just let me explain—

VIOLA: Explain nothing. I'm going to tell my father how you've insulted me. He doesn't like you, anyhow, and if he ever catches you on the premises, your life won't be worth 23 cents in Confederate money. (VIOLA exits into house.)

CHARLIE: Ain't she the exasperating creature! I declare, she's made me so peevish, I could crush a grape. The idea of telling me her father doesn't like me. Why shouldn't he like me? (ARTHUR MAYNARD appears in back-ground unnoticed by CHARLIE.) But, anyhow, I'm not afraid of her father. Why, if he were to stand before me right at this moment, I'd—

MAYNARD: (Stepping suddenly to the front.) Well, what would you do?

CHARLIE: I'd run like the devil. (Runs off stage at R.)

MAYNARD: I'm going to keep that disgusting fellow off the premises if I have to notify the dog-catcher. (Notices pedestal.) Ever since a tornado knocked that statue off its pedestal, this garden has looked rather bare, so I've put an advertisement into the newspaper, offering five hundred dollars for a suitable statue to take its place.

(Mrs. Wilson enters from R. and coughs gently to attract MR. MAYNARD'S attention.)

MAYNARD: (Turning around.) Why, Mrs. Wilson!

MRS. WILSON: Good morning, Mr. Maynard!

(Both talking at the same time.) This is indeed a surprise. I did not expect to see you as early as this. How are you feeling? Good? That's good. Lovely day, isn't it?

MAYNARD: I have often wanted to ask you, Mrs. Wilson, where is your husband?

MRS. WILSON: I don't know.

MAYNARD: What's that, you don't know where your husband is?

MRS. WILSON: No; you see, he is dead—

MAYNARD: (Laughingly.) I understand. Did he leave you much?

MRS. WILSON: Yes, nearly every night.

MAYNARD: No, no; I mean, did he leave you any property?

MRS. WILSON: Yes, five small children, and believe me, Mr. Maynard, it's hard to lose a husband when you have five children. Do you think I ought to get another?

MAYNARD: No; I think five are enough.

MRS. WILSON: I see you will have your joke.

MAYNARD: Are you fond of horses?

MRS. WILSON: I love horses.

MAYNARD: Well, come down to the stable and I'll show you some of the finest thoroughbreds you ever looked at. (They both exit Right I.)

(Enter HARVEY SLICK and FELIX FAKE at centre; HARVEY carries a heavy blackthorn walking stick.)

HARVEY: Now remember, you're a statue.

FELIX: You're a liar.

HARVEY: Don't call me a liar.

FELIX: Then don't call me a statue.

HARVEY: Don't you understand, the guy what owns this plantation offers five hundred dollars for a statue and I've come to get the money.

FELIX: But what have I got to do with all this?

HARVEY: You're the statue.

FELIX: Go on; I never was a statue in my life.

HARVEY: All you have to do is to get on that pedestal and stand perfectly still.

FELIX: Oh, I just have to stand perfectly still.

HARVEY: That's the idea. Don't move a muscle.

FELIX: But suppose a fly hops on my nose?

HARVEY: Don't notice it.

FELIX: Or suppose some bad boys throw stones at me?

HARVEY: Why, my boy, simply don't notice it.

FELIX: I don't think I want the job.

HARVEY: Why, of course you do. The figure you are to represent is called "Ajax defying the lightning."

FELIX: Oh, a jackass defying the lightning.

HARVEY: No, Ajax; but look sharp, for here comes Mr. Maynard now. Quick, jump on the pedestal.

(HARVEY hands stick to FELIX, who quickly jumps on pedestal and poses in funny position, as Maynard enters from right.)

MAYNARD: (To HARVEY.) Well, sir, what can I do for you?

HARVEY: You advertised for a statue, I believe.

MAYNARD: I did, sir.

HARVEY: Well, I think I've got just what you want—"a jackass defying the lightning."

MAYNARD: What's that?

HARVEY: Excuse me, I mean "Ajax." (Aside, and pointing to FELIX.) That son of a gun has got me talking that way now.

MAYNARD: I'll be pleased to look at your statue.

HARVEY: (Pointing to FELIX on pedestal.) Here it is, sir.

MAYNARD: (After surveying it critically.) What material is the statue made of?

HARVEY: Brass—pure brass.

MAYNARD: I think the statue will suit me except that the nose is a bit too long.

HARVEY: Well, you can easily take off a piece with a hammer and chisel.

MAYNARD: Why, so I can. But here's another objection. Suppose thieves come around some night and steal the statue?

HARVEY: All you have to do is to bore a hole through one of its legs, pass a chain through it and fasten to the pedestal. (FELIX works up this situation by comic mugging.)

MAYNARD: A very good idea. How much do you want for the statue?

HARVEY: Five hundred dollars.

MAYNARD: That's a lot of money, but I think I shall buy it anyhow.

HARVEY: Well, just hand over the five hundred, and the statue is yours. (MAYNARD and HARVEY move to a position in front of the statue. MAYNARD takes a roll of bills from his pocket and in handling them, drops one. As he bends forward to pick it up, FELIX pokes him with the stick, knocking him over frontwards. MAYNARD thinks HARVEY has kicked him.)

MAYNARD: (To Harvey.) What do you mean by kicking me, sir?

HARVEY: Why, I didn't kick you.

MAYNARD: If I hadn't set my heart on owning the statue, I'd call the deal off right now.

HARVEY: (Starting to get a bit angry.) I tell you I didn't kick you.

MAYNARD: Well, don't do it again. Here's your money. (MAYNARD hands HARVEY roll of bills, who counts it and lets the last bill fall on stage. In stooping to pick it up, FELIX pokes HARVEY, causing him to fall over frontwards. HARVEY thinks MAYNARD has kicked him.)

HARVEY: (To MAYNARD.) A joke's a joke, but this is going entirely too far.

MAYNARD: What on earth are you talking about?

HARVEY: You just kicked me.

MAYNARD: I didn't.

HARVEY: You did.

MAYNARD: I didn't.

FELIX: Shut up.

MAYNARD and HARVEY: (Both talking together.)

Don't tell me to shut up. I didn't tell you to shut up. Well, somebody did.

HARVEY: I'm awful thirsty.

MAYNARD: I'll go into the house and get you a glass of wine.

FELIX: Well, hurry up about it.

MAYNARD: (Thinking HARVEY spoke.) I never heard such impudence in all my life. Why, the idea!

(Exits into house.)

FELIX: Yes, the idea.

HARVEY: Well, I got the old fool's money all right.

FELIX: Where's my share?

HARVEY: (Laughing.) Now, who ever heard of a statue having mo-non-ey.

FELIX: But you promised me half of the five hundred dollars.

HARVEY: Well, suppose I did; you don't expect me to keep my word, do you? You'd be a pretty looking sight, carrying two hundred and fifty dollars around with you. Why, I'd have to lay for you in some dark alley and take it away from you. I want you to understand that I'm the wise guy of this combination and if you want any of my money, you've got to take it away from me. (HARVEY has taken a position just in front of FELIX, who is still on the pedestal. FELIX slips his hand slyly into HARVEY'S pocket and takes all the money.)

HARVEY: (Moving to centre exit.) Well, so long, Felix, so long, and remember, Felix, that money is the root of all evil.

(HARVEY exits.)

FELIX: (Holding up roll of bills.) Well, I've extracted some of the root all right, all right. (FELIX exits at right.)

(Big SINGING NUMBER by VIOLA and ladies of company.)

(Then, MR. MAYNARD enters from the house.)

GOLDIE: In behalf of all your friends who are assembled here today, Mr. Maynard, I want to congratulate you on your birthday anniversary.

MAYNARD: Ah, thank you, ladies, I appreciate your good wishes very much.

DORA: I hope you will live to be a hundred years old.

MAYNARD: (Laughing.) I hope so—but why should the Lord take me for a hundred when he can get me at 70?

(OLD BLACK JOE comes ambling in from Right to melody of "Old Black Joe.")

MAYNARD: Well, Old Black Joe, how are you feeling today?

JOE: Well, Massa, I'se got rheumatiz in the lef' shoulder—an' de lumbago in mah back—an' I don' hear very well—an' ma teeth am troubling me some—an' mah eyes is going back on me—an' mah stomach ain't as good as it used to be—but otherwise, Massa, I'se feelin' as sound as a nut.

MAYNARD: What can I do for you, Old Black Joe?

JOE: Massa, my mind ain't as clear like it used ter be, but der's one thing I ain't never forgotten, and dat is your birthday university, so I'd feel powerful flattered if you would accept these few flowers what I picked myself. (Hands MAYNARD small bouquet.)

MAYNARD: Of all the many gifts I will receive to-day, Old Black Joe, there is none that I will treasure more highly than these flowers.

JOE: Ah, thank you, Massa, thank you.

(OLD BLACK JOE exits to melody of "Old Black Joe.")

GOLDIE: I never could understand, Mr. Maynard, why you always make such a fuss about that nigger, Old Black Joe.

MAYNARD: Old Black Joe may have a black skin, but he's got a white heart and I'll cherish and protect him as long as I have a roof over my head.

GOLDIE: One would think that he had done you some great favor, Mr. Maynard.

MAYNARD: He more than did me a favor. He once saved my life.

CHORUS OF GIRLS: Tell us about it.

MAYNARD: (To melodramatic music.) It was during the days of '61, when brother fought against brother and the Blue was striving to overpower the Grey. On this very plantation, while hardly more than a lad, I was attacked and badly wounded and would have fallen into the hands of the enemy if it had not been for Old Black Joe, who, at the risk of his own life, carried me to a place of safety and nursed me back to health again.

CHORUS OF LADIES: Three cheers for Old Black Joe.

(SONG by Ladies—all exit.)

(Enter CHARLIE at centre.)

CHARLIE: I'm crazy about Viola, but I know she will never marry me unless her father gives his consent. If I only knew a way to win him over. Ah, here comes Chlorinda. Perhaps she can help me.

(Enter CHLORINDA from house.)

CHARLIE: Hello, Chlorinda.

CHLORINDA: Miss Sourgrass, if you please.

CHARLIE: What's the matter with Chlorinda?

CHLORINDA: I only allows gentlemen I'se well acquainted with to call me Chlorinda.

CHARLIE: Well then, Miss Sourgrass, do you want to earn a dollar?

CHLORINDA: What's the matter with it?

CHARLIE: There's nothing the matter with it. You see, I'm in love with Viola Maynard, but her father doesn't like me. Now, if you can fix things up so her father will accept me as a son-in-law, I will give you a dollar.

CHLORINDA: Jes leave it to me and in half an hour he'll be so tickled to see you that he'll put his arms around your neck and kiss you.

CHARLIE: That will be splendid.

CHLORINDA: The dollar, please.

CHARLIE: I never pay in advance.

CHLORINDA: No dollar, no kisses.

CHARLIE: (Handing her a dollar.) Oh, very well, but see that you do as you promise.

CHLORINDA: Leave it to me.

(CHARLIE exits at right.)

(MR. MAYNARD enters from house.)

CHLORINDA: Did you hear what happened to Charlie Doolittle?

MAYNARD: I suppose he took a pinch of snuff and blew his brains out.

CHLORINDA: Goodness no; guess again.

MAYNARD: No, I won't. I'm not at all interested in that addlepated, monkey-faced nincompoop. He's after my daughter, but he shall never marry her. Why, if wives could be supported for fifty cents a year, that empty-headed specimen of vacuous mentality couldn't even keep a cock-roach from starving.

CHLORINDA: Don't say dat, massa, for Charlie's uncle has jes' died an' left him fifty thousand dollars.

MAYNARD: (Very much astonished.) How much did you say?

CHLORINDA: Five hundred thousand dollars.

MAYNARD: Five hundred thousand dollars?

CHLORINDA: Yes, sah; five million dollars?

MAYNARD: I always did like Charlie.

CHLORINDA: But you jes' said—

MAYNARD: Never mind what I just said. I was only joking. Here's a dollar to keep your mouth shut.

(MAYNARD hands CHLORINDA a dollar.)

CHLORlNDA: Yes, sah.

MAYNARD: I consider Charlie Doolittle an exceptionally bright young man, and even if he didn't have a dollar in the world I would still consider him an excellent match for my daughter.

CHLORINDA: But you jes' said he couldn't even support a cock-roach.

MAYNARD: Never mind about that. Here's another dollar. (Hands CHLORINDA another dollar.) And now, if you see Charlie Doolittle, tell him I want to see him right away.

CHLORINDA: Yes, sah. (She exits at right.)

MAYNARD: (Looking at empty pedestal.) I wonder what became of the statue? I guess Chlorinda carried it into the barn because it looks like rain. (Enter CHARLIE from right. He coughs to attract MAYNARD'S attention.)

CHARLIE: Are you very angry at me, Mr. Maynard?

MAYNARD: Angry at you, Charlie? Why, how can you only imagine such a thing? Have a cigar.

CHARLIE: (Accepting the cigar with misgivings.) It isn't loaded with dynamite, is it?

MAYNARD: Certainly not. I give you the cigar because I like you, Charlie, and I always have liked you.

CHARLIE: It's very kind of you to say that. (During these speeches, FELIX has sneaked back on the pedestal, still carrying the blackthorn stick.)

MAYNARD: You have only to say the word and you can have anything I've got.

CHARLIE: Can I have your daughter?

MAYNARD: Why certainly, Charlie. Just say the word and she's yours.

CHARLIE: It all seems like a dream. (Business of FELIX hitting MAYNARD on hat with stick and smashing it in. MAYNARD thinks CHARLIE did it.)

MAYNARD: Now see here, Charlie, as my future son-in-law, I want you to feel perfectly at home here, but there's such a thing as carrying things too far.

CHARLIE: Why, Mr. Maynard, what do you mean?

MAYNARD: I saw you smash my hat just now, Charlie.

CHARLIE: I didn't smash your hat.

MAYNARD: You didn't smash my hat?

CHARLIE: No; I didn't smash your hat.

MAYNARD: Well, somebody did. However, as I was about to remark, you have but to name the day and I'll give my daughter a wedding that will—(FELIX smashes CHARLIE'S hat with stick. CHARLIE thinks MAYNARD did it.)

CHARLIE: Now, see here, Mr. Maynard, I may have straw-colored hair and wear a number fourteen collar, but I object—I very seriously object to having anybody crush my hat.

MAYNARD: I didn't crush your hat.

CHARLIE: I saw you.

MAYNARD: (Getting very angry and shaking fist in CHARLIE'S face.) You say you saw me crush your hat?

CHARLIE: (Backing water.) Well, I thought I saw you.

MAYNARD: (Mollified once more.) Well, that's different. However, it really isn't worth talking about. You know that all I want in this world is to see you happy.

CHARLIE: Then perhaps you can lend me fifty dollars.

MAYNARD: Lend you fifty dollars? Why certainly. Here you are. (Hands CHARLIE the money.) No doubt, you'll be able to pay me back when you receive the money that was left you in the will.

CHARLIE: What will?

MAYNARD: Why, the will of your uncle.

CHARLIE: What uncle?

MAYNARD: What uncle? Why, your millionaire uncle who just died and left you all his money.

CHARLIE: I never had a millionaire uncle and nobody has left me a penny.

MAYNARD: (Wiping perspiration off his face.) What; then you are not a rich man?

CHARLIE: Rich; why, that fifty dollars you just gave me is every penny I've got in this world.

MAYNARD: (Getting excited.) Oh you fraud, you deceiver, you disgraceful beggar; I've a great mind to—(Raises fist as if to strike CHARLIE.)

CHARLIE: (Rushing off at right.) Assistance. Assistance!

(HARVEY comes in at centre and stands in background ground; FELIX is still on pedestal.)

MAYNARD: There is only one way to keep that disgusting dude off the premises. I'll get a savage dog if it costs me a thousand dollars. (Exits into house.)

HARVEY: (To FELIX, who steps off pedestal.) You hear that?

FELIX: Hear what?

HARVEY: He wants a savage dog.

FELIX: Well, suppose he does?

HARVEY: You're the dog.

FELIX: What?

HARVEY: You're the dog.

FELIX: Say, what's tbe matter with you anyhow? First I was a statue and now I'm a dog. Next I suppose I'll be an automobile or a bag of peanuts.

HARVEY: That's all right. Pass yourself off as the dog and we'll divide the thousand dollars between us.

FELIX: Yes, you'll get nine hundred and ninety-nine and I'll get the balance.

HARVEY: Nonsense; I'll only take what is right.

FELIX: And I'll have to take what is left.

HARVEY: For the love of Mike be reasonable. This is the chance of a lifetime.

FELIX: I'll impersonate the dog if you get me something to eat.

HARVEY: What do you want to eat for?

FELIX: I'm starving.

HARVEY: All right, it's a bargain. You impersonate the savage dog and I'll see that you're well fed. (Both exit at centre.)

(Enter MRS. WILSON, from right.)

MRS. WILSON: I must force a proposal of marriage out of Mr. Maynard today yet. It's true I don't love him, but he's got lots of money, and money is everything in this world.

(Enter CHLORINDA from house, crying.)

MRS. WILSON: Why Chlorinda, what's the matter?

CHLORINDA: I'se just been down to the cemetery.

MRS. WILSON: Well, you ought to laugh.

CHLORINDA: Why, why should I laugh?

MRS. WILSON: It's the people who are in the cemetery and cannot get out who ought to be crying.

CHLORINDA: Dat's all very well, Mrs. Wilson, but I jes' copied some of de inscriptions off de tombstones, and I tells you I feels awful mournful about it.

MRS. WILSON: I don't see why you should feel sad, Chlorinda.

CHLORINDA: You don't? Well, jes' listen to some of dese. (Reads from a stack of cards, one tombstone inscription being written on each card.)

"Here lies the body of Michael Burke, who lost his life while dodging work."

"I loved my mother, I hated to leave her, but what can you do with the typhoid fever? "

"Mamma loves Papa, and Papa loves women; Mamma saw Papa with two girls in swimmin'."

"Here lies the mother of 28; there might have been more, but now it's too late."

"Shed a few tears for Matty Mack, a trolley car hit her a slap in the back."

"Here lies my poor wife much lamented. She's happy and—well, I am contented."

"Here lies the body of Martin Brown. He was blown in the air and he never came down."

"Willie Greene, sad regrets—aged 9—cigarettes."

(Enter MR. MAYNARD from house.)

MAYNARD: Won't you step inside the house, Mrs. Wilson—I mean Alice—and have a glass of birthday punch with the other ladies?

MRS. WILSON: Delighted, I'm sure. (Exits into house.)

CHLORINDA: Won't I get punch, too?

MAYNARD: Yes, if you don't get back to your work, you'll get a punch in the jaw in about another minute.

MAYNARD: I hope some one comes along soon with a savage dog. I'd rather go to Charlie Doolittle's funeral than to a picnic. (Looks off toward house.) Ah, there is Mrs. Wilson. How beautiful she is. I think this is my golden chance to propose to her. (Exits into house.)

(Enter HARVEY at centre, pulling FELIX in by chain fastened around his neck. FELIX now wears a dog's head and body.)

HARVEY: (Aside to FELIX.) Now remember, all you have got to do is to act like a savage dog, and after I collect the money from Mr. Maynard, you'll get yours.

FELIX: (Removing dog's head.) I hope I don't get it where I've got this collar.

HARVEY: Oh, you'll get it all right.

FELIX: (Starting to leave stage.) I'm going home.

HARVEY: (Catching him by chain.) Here, here, where are you going?

FELIX: I don't like the way you say, "Oh, you'll get it."

HARVEY: Oh, that's all right. And now whatever you do, act like a dog.

(FELIX tries to nip HARVEY'S leg, but he springs aside and says.) Delighted. Why, you're commencing to feel like a dog already.

FELIX: When do I get something to eat?

HARVEY: Very shortly now.

(Sees MAYNARD coming from house.) Quick, put on your dog's head, for here comes Mr. Maynard.

(Enter MAYNARD.)

MAYNARD: (To HARVEY.) Well, sir, and what can I do for you?

HARVEY: Your servant told me you were looking for a ferocious dog and I think I have an animal that will just suit you.

MAYNARD: Yes, I do want a savage dog, and if you have such a beast we can do business together.

FELIX: (Aside.) Now, I'm a beast.

(HARVEY kicks at FELIX to get him to shut up.)

HARVEY: (Pointing to FELIX.) This animal is so ferocious that if anyone should come across his path at night when he is unchained he would tear him limb from limb.

MAYNARD: (Noticing FELIX.) Is this the dog?

HARVEY: (Rubbing his hands.) Yes, sir, and if you searched the world over, you couldn't find a more savage high-bred animal. He is full of animation.

MAYNARD: (Scratching himself.) I think he is full of fleas. But, tell me, what do you ask for him?

HARVEY: One thousand dollars.

MAYNARD: That's a lot of money.

HARVEY: Not for this dog.

MAYNARD: Perhaps I ought to explain to you what I want the dog for.

HARVEY: I daresay you feel lonely for a companion.

MAYNARD: No, sir; I want a dog for my daughter, sir, to keep off a worthless, good-for-nothing dude who comes pestering around here after her because he knows that her father has a lot of money, and thinks that if he marries his daughter he can move to Easy Street.

HARVEY: I see; he is looking for a soft snap.

MAYNARD: That's it, but I'll fool him. I want a dog that will chew him up into pieces if he ever dares to set his foot inside my garden gate again.

HARVEY: My dog will suit you exactly.

MAYNARD: But a thousand dollars is an awful lot of money.

HARVEY: Not for this animal. In the first place, you never have to feed him.

MAYNARD: What's that! You mean to say that this dog goes without food?

HARVEY: That's the idea exactly.

(FELIX shows signs of disgust. He can work up some funny business by taking off his mask whenever HARVEY and MAYNARD are talking together and quickly slipping it on again when he thinks their attention is directed towards him.)

MAYNARD: Why, it's preposterous. You don't suppose I would keep a dog around the house and never feed him?

HARVEY: I tell you this dog never eats.

MAYNARD: Why, that's cruelty to animals!

HARVEY: Well, if you feel that way about it, you might go out into an empty lot and get some rusty tomato cans and a few pieces of scrap iron and feed those to him.

MAYNARD: Does he enjoy such things?

HARVEY: Certainly he does. In fact, if you were to put a choice piece of juicy tenderloin steak before him right now that dog wouldn't touch it.

MAYNARD: A most remarkable animal.

FELIX: (Taking off his dog mask, aside.) I'm going home.

HARVEY: (Aside, to FELIX.) Shut up or you'll spoil everything.

(FELIX makes a grab for MAYNARD'S leg.)

MAYNARD: Help! Help! Your dog is killing me.

HARVEY: Don't get frightened, Mr. Maynard, he is perfectly domesticated and will eat off your hand.

MAYNARD: Yes; he'll eat off my leg, too, if I'm not careful.

HARVEY: (To FELIX.) Lie down, Otto, lie down, I say. (Kicks FELIX, who lets go of MAYNARD'S leg.)

MAYNARD: (Going quickly out of harm's way, yet delighted.) Just the dog I want—a fine animal. I am sure with him around that Charlie Doolittle won't dare to show his face on the premises.

HARVEY: Better buy him while you have the chance.

MAYNARD: (Taking roll of bills from pocket and counting out the money.) I think I will. Here's the thousand dollars.

HARVEY: And now the dog is yours.

(MAYNARD fastens dog to exterior of dog-house.)

MAYNARD: I hope I have better luck with him than I had with my other dogs.

HARVEY: Why, what do you mean?

FELIX: (In back-ground.) Yes, please explain yourself.

MAYNARD: (Chuckling.) Well, you see my neighbors ain't very fond of dogs and as fast as I get one they either poison him or shoot him.

FELIX: (In back-ground.) I can see my finish.

HARVEY: Well, it won't make any difference with this dog. You can fill him full of bullets and he won't even feel it.

FELIX: (Aside.) No, I'll be dead.

HARVEY: (Continuing.) And as for poisoned meat, why, he would rather have Paris green or strychnine on his meat than salt.

MAYNARD: (Chuckling.) Certainly a remarkable animal. And now, if you will excuse me a minute, I will go into the house and tell my daughter about the dog. (He exits into house.)

HARVEY: (Gleefully.) The scheme worked beautifully and I am just a thousand dollars ahead.

FELIX: (Indignantly.) What do you mean by telling him that I eat tin cans and scrap iron?

HARVEY: Why, that was only a little joke on my part.

FELIX: Oh, it was a joke, was it? And suppose the neighbors fire their pistols at me and riddle me with bullets, what then?

HARVEY: Why, simply don't notice it. Anyhow, don't complain to me, you're the dog, not I, and if the neighbors kill you, that's not my funeral.

FELIX: I can see myself in dog heaven already. And how about my share of the money?

HARVEY: The what?

FELIX: The money. The dough, the mazuma.

HARVEY: The money? Since when do dogs carry money? Ha, ha! That's a good joke. A very good joke. (Exits at R. 2.)

MAYNARD: (Re-enters from house.) And now to see if I can't make friends with the dog.

(FELIX barks furiously at MAYNARD as soon as he comes near.)

MAYNARD: He is just the animal to keep Viola's lover away. I will call her out, and show her the dog. (Calls off to house.) Oh, Viola! (Dog snaps at MAYNARD as latter passes him.)

VIOLA: (From the doorstep of house.) What do you want, father?

MAYNARD: I want to show you the new dog I bought. (Dog barks furiously.) See if you can make friends with him.

(VIOLA approaches FELIX, who leans his head affectionately against her and puts his arm around her waist.)

VIOLA: He seems to like me all right, father.

MAYNARD: I cannot understand it.

VIOLA: Perhaps he doesn't like men.

FELIX: (Aside.) No; I ain't that kind of a dog.

VIOLA: I wonder if the dog is hungry?

MAYNARD: I'll go into the house and get him a bone. (Exits into house.)

(FELIX starts rubbing his dog's head against VIOLA'S hip. She screams and exits into house.)

(CHARLIE DOOLITTLE enters from Right.)

CHARLIE: I haven't seen Viola for half an hour, so I think I'll serenade her.

(Starts in singing chorus of song, "Only One Girl in This World for Me.")

(FELIX howls accompaniment. CHARLIE sees dog, who tries to grab him.)

CHARLIE: I'll get a pistol and shoot the beast.

FELIX: Gee, but he's got a nasty disposition!

CHARLIE: I'll return in two minutes. (Exits at right.)

FELIX: (Unfastening catch that holds him to dog-house.) And I will be gone in one minute. (Exits at Centre.)

(MR. MAYNARD and VIOLA enter from house.)

MAYNARD: Viola, I am worried.

VIOLA: What's the matter, father?

MAYNARD: I am afraid that Old Black Joe's mind is beginning to weaken. Sometimes he sits for hours babbling about the old plantation as it existed in the days of '61.

VIOLA: How strange!

MAYNARD: Only last week a celebrated doctor assured me that if Old Black Joe could but gaze once more on the old plantation as it looked before the War, his mental powers would come back to him as sharp and clear as ever.

VIOLA: I have an idea.

CHARLIE: (Appearing suddenly from Right.) Well, pickle it, because it's going to be a hard Winter.

(MAYNARD starts to chase CHARLIE, who quickly exits.)

MAYNARD: (To VIOLA.) What is your idea, daughter?

VIOLA: I propose that all the girls dress themselves as pickaninnies and indulge in the sports and pastimes of the South before the War, so that Old Black Joe will think he is once more among the scenes of his boyhood days.

MAYNARD: A great idea—and we'll put it into execution at once.

(A PICKANINNY NUMBER BY THE GIRLS LED BY VIOLA. When the pickaninny number is over, "Old Black Joe." ENTIRE COMPANY DRESSES THE STAGE and forms itself into picturesque groupings. Selections by a colored quartette can also be appropriately introduced.)

(Song, "Old Black Joe," by OLD BLACK JOE, company joining in the chorus.)

JOE: Bless me, am I dreaming, or do I see once more de old plantation?

MAYNARD: (Cordially.) The very same, Joe, the very same.

JOE: Why, it seems, Massa, as if a heavy load is lifting from mah mind and de memory of things dat I'se forgotten dese fifty years am coming back to me.

VIOLA: Three cheers for Old Black Joe! (Entire company gives cheers.)

MAYNARD: And now, ladies and gentlemen, on the occasion of my birthday, I also have the honor to announce that Mrs. Wilson has this day consented to become my wife.

(MRS. WILSON steps forward from house and bows to assembled guests in a triumphant way, the guests coldly return her bow.)

(EDGAR TREMBLE enters from Centre.)

MAYNARD: What can I do for you, Mr. Tremble?

TREMBLE: Just one thing, and that is to give me the money you owe me. The mortgage I hold on your plantation for $50,000 is due today and, unless you hand over the money right away, I'll turn you out bag and baggage.

MAYNARD: (Pleadingly.) Won't you give me a few days longer to try and raise the money?

TREMBLE: Not a day, not an hour. I must have the money at once or out you go.

MAYNARD: (Wringing his hands.) I am a ruined man! (Turning to MRS. WILSON.) But at least I will have the consolation of a true and loving companion. (MAYNARD reaches out for her hand, but she draws it away.) Why, what does this mean, Alice?

MRS. WILSON: I fear, Mr. Maynard, that I was never cut out to be a poor man's wife, so I ask you to release me from my engagement. (Walks off stage at Right accompanied by the hisses of the guests.)

TREMBLE: (To MAYNARD.) As you evidently haven't got the $50,000 to pay the mortgage, the plantation becomes mine and I now order you all off the premises.

OLD BLACK JOE: Not so fast.

TREMBLE: (To Joe.) What do you mean by butting in, you black devil? (Sarcastically.) Perhaps you've got the $50,000 to pay the mortgage?

OLD BLACK JOE: No, sah, ain't got no money, but somethin' in mah memory tells me dat I know where some money is hidden.

MAYNARD: (In surprise.) Why, what do you mean, Old Black Joe?

VIOLA: Yes, explain yourself.

OLD BLACK JOE: Well, sah, jes' after de War broke out your father went and hid $50,000 where de Union soldiers couldn't find it.

MAYNARD: (Imploringly.) Can't you remember where the money was hid, Joe?

OLD BLACK JOE: Let me think, Massa, let me think.

VIOLA: Yes, Joe, try and remember.

OLD BLACK JOE: (With a sudden burst of light in his eyes.) I remembers now. He hid the money in dat old tree over dere.

(VIOLA rushes over to tree accompanied by several of the guests.)

TREMBLE: I hope you don't place any faith in the silly fairy stories of this doddering old nigger.

VIOLA: (Pulling an old and worn pocketbook from behind the trunk of the tree.) Here it is! Father, here it is! (She runs to her father and hands him the pocketbook. He eagerly takes out the contents, a big roll of bank bills, and hastily counts them.)

MAYNARD: It's fifty thousand dollars and the old plantation is saved, thanks to Old Black Joe! (To JOE.) Let me grasp your hand. (Shakes OLD BLACK JOE by the hand.)

CHARLIE: (Who has sneaked on the scene from R. 2. To JOE.) Yes, give us your flipper, Joe.

HARVEY: (Who suddenly appears on the scene and shakes JOE'S hand.) It's all right, Joe; you wait for me after the show and I'll buy you some horseradish ice cream and a fried cigarette sandwich.

MAYNARD: Now that the plantation remains, I invite you one and all to join me in a Fried 'Possum and Sweet Potato Dinner.

FELIX: (Who also appears on the scene, carrying his dog's head in his hand.) Thank heavens, I'll get something to eat at last.

CHORUS OF VOICES: Three cheers for Mr. Maynard!

MAYNARD: And don't forget Old Black Joe, for it was through him that I have been able to save

"My OLD KENTUCKY HOME."

(Final Chorus by entire company.)

CURTAIN



GLOSSARY

ACT IN ONE.—An act playing in One (which see). AD LIB.—Ad libitum—To talk extemporaneously so as to pad a scene or heighten laughter. AGENT, VAUDEVILLE.—The business agent for an act. APRON.—That part of the stage lying between the footlights and the curtain line. ARGOT.—Slang; particularly, stage terms. ASIDE.—A speech spoken within the sight and hearing of other actors, but which they, as characters in the act, do not "hear." AUDIENCE-LEFT.—Reverse of stage-left (which see). AUDIENCE-RIGHT.—Reverse of stage-right (which see). BACK OF THE HOUSE.—Back stage; the stage back of the curtain. BACKING.—A drop, wing, or flat used to mask the working stage when a scenery-door or window is opened. BACKING, INTERIOR.—Backing that represents an interior. BACKING, EXTERIOR.—Backing that represents an exterior. BARE STAGE.—Stage unset with scenery. BIG-TIME.—Circuits playing two shows a day. BIT, A.—A successful little stage scene complete in itself. A small part in an act. BOOK OF A MUSICAL COMEDY.—The plot, dialogue, etc., to differentiate these from lyrics and music. BOOK AN ACT, TO.—To place on a manager's books for playing contracts; to secure a route. BOOKING MANAGER.—One who books acts for theatres. BOOSTER.—See "PLUGGER." BORDER.—A strip of painted canvas hung above the stage in front of the border-lights to mask the stage-rigging. BORDER-LIGHT.—Different colored electric bulbs set in a tin trough and suspended over the stage to light the stage and scenery. BOX SET.—A set of scenery made of "flats" (which see) lashed together to form a room whose fourth wall has been removed. BREAKING-IN AN ACT.—Playing an act until it runs smoothly. BUNCH-LIGHT.—Electric bulbs set in a tin box mounted on a movable standard to cast any light—moonlight, for instance— through windows or on drops or backings. BUSINESS, or BUS., or BIZ.—Any movement an actor makes on the stage, when done to drive the spoken words home, or "get over" a meaning without words. CENTRE-DOOR FANCY.—An interior set containing an ornamental arch and fitted with fine draperies. CHOOSER.—One who steals some part of another performer's act for his own use. CLIMAX.—The highest point of interest in a series of words or events—the "culmination, height, acme, apex." (Murray.) CLOSE-IN, TO.—To drop curtain. COMEDY.—A light and more or less humorous play which ends happily; laughable and pleasing incidents. COMPLICATION.—The definite clash of interests which produces the struggle on the outcome of which the plot hinges. CRISIS.—The decisive, or turning, point in a play when things must come to a change, for better or worse. CUE.—A word or an action regarded as the signal for some other speech or action by another actor, or for lights to change, or something to happen during the course of an act. CURTAIN.—Because the curtain is dropped at the end of an act—the finish. DIE.—When a performer or his act fails to win applause, he or the act is said to "die." DIMMER.—An electrical apparatus to regulate the degree of light given by the footlights and the border-lights. DRAPERY, GRAND.—An unmovable Border just in front of the Olio and above Working Drapery. DRAPERY, WORKING.—The first Border; see "BORDER." DROP.—A curtain of canvas painted with some scene and running full across the stage opening. DUMB ACT, or SIGHT ACT.—Acts that do not use words; acrobats and the like. EXPOSITION.—That part of the play which conveys the information necessary for the audience to possess so that they may understand the foundations of the plot or action. EXTERIOR BACKING.—See "BACKING, EXTERIOR." EXTRA MAN, or WOMAN.—A person used for parts that do not require speech; not a regular member of the company. FANCY INTERIOR.—The same as "Centre-door Fancy" (which see). FARCE.—A play full of extravagantly ludicrous situations. FIRST ENTRANCE.—Entrance to One (which see). FLASH-BACK.—When a straight-man turns a laugh which a comedian has won, into a laugh for himself (see chapter on "The Two-Act"). FLAT.—A wooden frame covered with a canvas painted to match other flats in a box set. FLIPPER.—Scenery extension—particularly used to contain curtained entrance to One, and generally set at right angles to the proscenium arch (which see). FLIRTATION ACT.—An act presented by a man and a woman playing lover-like scenes. FLY-GALLERY.—The balcony between the stage and the grid iron, from where the scenery is worked. FLYMEN.—The men assigned to the fly-gallery. FOUR.—The stage space six or more feet behind the rear boundaries of Three. FRONT OF THE HOUSE.—The auditorium in front of the curtain. FULL STAGE.—Same as Four. GAG.—Any joke or pun. See "POINT." GENRE.—Kind, style, type. GET OVER, TO.—To make a speech or entire act a success. GLASS-CRASH.—A basket filled with broken glass, used to imitate the noise of breaking a window and the like. GO BIG.—When a performer, act, song, gag, etc., wins much applause it is said to "go big." GRAND DRAPERY.—See "DRAPERY, GRAND." GRIDIRON.—An iron network above the stage on which is hung the rigging by which the scenery is worked. GRIP.—The man who sets scenery or grips it. HAND, TO GET A.—To receive applause. HOUSE CURTAIN.—The curtain running flat against the proscenium arch; it is raised at the beginning and lowered at the end of the performance; sometimes use to "close-in" on an act. INTERIOR BACKING.—See "BACKING, INTERIOR." JOG.—A short flat used to vary a set by being placed between regulation flats to form angles or corners in a room. LASH-LINE.—Used on flats to join them tightly together. LEAD-SHEET.—A musical notation giving a melody of a popular song; a skeleton of a song. LEGITIMATE.—Used to designate the stage, actors, theatres, etc., that present the full-evening play. MELODRAMA.—A sensational drama, full of incident and making a violent appeal to the emotions. MUGGING.—A contortion of the features to win laughter, irrespective of its consistency with the lines or actions. OLIO.—A drop curtain full across the stage, working flat against the tormentors (which see). It is used as a background for acts in One, and often to close-in on acts playing in Two, Three and Four. ONE.—That part of the stage lying between the tormentors and the line drawn between the bases of the proscenium arch. OPEN SET.—A scene composed of a rear drop and matching wings, and not "boxed"—that is, not completely enclosed. See "BOX SET." PALACE SET.—Palace scene. PART.—Noun: the manuscript of one character's speeches and business; the character taken by an actor. Verb: to take, or play, a character. PLAY UP, TO.—To pitch the key of a scene high; to play with rush and emphasis. PLUGGER.—A booster, a singer who sings new songs to make them popular. POINT.—The laugh-line of a gag (see "GAG"), or the funny observation of a monologue. PRODUCE, TO.—To mount a manuscript on the stage. PRODUCER.—One who produces plays, playlets, and other acts. PROPERTIES.—Furniture, dishes, telephones, the what-not employed to lend reality—scenery excepted. Stage accessories. PROPERTY-MAN.—The man who takes care of the properties. PROPS.—Property-man; also short for properties. PROSCENIUM ARCH.—The arch through which the audience views the stage. RIGGING, STAGE.—The ropes, pulleys, etc., by which the scenery is worked. RIPPLE-LAMP.—A clock-actuated mechanism fitted with ripple-glass and attached to the spot-light to cast wave-effects, etc., on or through the drops. ROUTE.—A series of playing dates. To "route" is to "book" acts. ROUTINE.—Arrangement. A specific arrangement of the parts of a state offering, as a "monologue routine," or a "dance routine." SCENARIO.—The story of the play in outline. SET.—Noun: a room or other scene set on the stage. Verb: to erect the wings, drops, and flats to form a scene. SET OF LINES.—Rigging to be tied to drops and other scenery to lift them up into the flies. SIGHT ACT.—See "DUMB ACT." SINGLE MAN—SINGLE WOMAN.—A man or woman playing alone; a monologist, solo singer, etc. SLAP-STICK BUSINESS.—Business that wins laughs by use of physical methods. SMALL-TIME, THE.—The circuits playing three or more shows a day. SOUND-EFFECTS.—The noise of cocoanut shells imitating horses' hoof-beats, the sound of waves mechanically made, and the like. SPOT-LIGHT.—An arc-light with lenses to concentrate the light into a spot to follow the characters around the stage. STAGE-DRACE.—An implement used with stage-screws to clamp flats firmly to the floor. STAGE-CENTRE.—The centre of the stage. STAGE-LEFT.—The audience's right. STAGE-MANAGER.—One who manages the "working" of a show behind the scenes; usually the stage-carpenter. STAGE-RIGGING.—See "RIGGING, STAGE." STAGE-RIGHT.—The audience's left. STRIKE, TO.—To clear the stage of scenery. STRIP-LIGHT.—Electric bulbs contained in short tin troughs, hung behind doors, etc., to illuminate the backings. TAB.—The contraction of "tabloid," as burlesque tab, musical comedy tab. TALKING SINGLE.—A one-person act using stories, gags, etc. THREE.—The stage space six or more feet behind the rear boundaries of Two. TIME.—Playing engagements. See "BIG-TIME," "SMALL-TIME." TORMENTORS.—Movable first wings behind which the Olio runs, fronting the audience. TRAP.—A section of the stage floor cut for an entrance to the scene from below. TRY-OUT.—The first presentation of an act for trial before an audience with a view to booking. TWO.—The stage space between the Olio and the set of wings six or more feet behind the Olio. TWO-A-DAY.—Stage argot for vaudeville. WING.—A double frame of wood covered with painted canvas and used in open sets as a flat is used in box sets; so constructed that it stands alone as a book will when its covers are opened at right angles. WOOD-CRASH.—An appliance so constructed that when the handle is turned a noise like a man falling downstairs, or the crash of a fight, is produced. WOOD-SET.—The scenery used to form a forest or woods. WORKING DRAPERY.—See "DRAPERY, WORKING." WORK OPPOSITE ANOTHER, TO.—To play a character whose speeches are nearly all with the other.

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