CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY / i GIFT OF Cornell University Dept, of Theatre Arts d's. International Copyrighted (in England, her Col- onies, and the United States) Edition of the Works of the Best Authors iHiiiiiiiiiitiiiiitiiitttiiiiitiiiiiiirniiiiiiiiitiiiiiiuiiiiiniiiiiiuiMiiitiiiiiiiiKiiiiiiiitiiiiiiiiiHiiiiiiitMiiiiiHiiiiiiiniiiiiiiMiiiiiiiij; No. 394 (t PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" CHARACTER COMEDY IN ONE ACT BY NATHANIEL I. FORSTER Ladd Forster Price 30 Cents Kiyfl v 4Q r $ New York SAMUEL FRENCH Publisher -30 West 38th Street London SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 26 Southampton Street STRAND iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiliiiiiiiiiniiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitiiitiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiriiiiiiiitiiiiliiiiiitifilliiiiiiiitiiir: The Charm School A fascinating comedy in three acts by Alice Duer Mill- er and Robert Milton.. 6 males, 10 females. (May be played by 5 males and 8 females). Any number of school girls may be used in the ensembles. Scenes,, two inter- - iors. Costumes, modern: Plays_ 2% hours. The story of "The Charm School" is familiar to Mrs. Miller's readers. It relates the adventures of a hand- some young automobile' salesman, scarcely out of his, 'teens who, upon inheriting a girl'Sr boarding school from a maiden aunt, insists on running it himself, according to his own ideas, chief of which is, by the way, that the dominant feature in the" education of the young girl of today should be CHARMr , , -The "situations that arise are teeming with humor: — clean, wholesome humor- " In the end the young man gives up the school and promises to wait until the most precocious- of his pupils reaches a marriageable age. "The Charm. School" has the freshness of youth, the inspiration of an extravagant bu; novel idea, the charm of originality, and the promise of wholesome, sanely amusing, pleasant entertainment. We strongly recom- mend it for high school production. "The Charm School" was first produced at the Bijou Theatre, New York, and then toured the country. Two companies are now playing it in England. Price; 75 cents. Daddy Long- Legs A charming comedy in four acts, by Jean Webster. The full cast calls for 6 males, 7 females and 6 oiphans,. but the play, by the easy doubling of some of the char- acters may be 'played by 4 males, 4 females and three orphans. The orphans, appear - only in the first act and may be played by small girls of any age. Four easy interior scenes. . Costumes modern. Plays 2Vk hours. The New York Times reviewer, on the morning fol- lowing the , Broadway production, 'wrote' the following comment: "If you will take your pencil and write down, one be- low the other, ;the' words delightful, charming, sweet, beautiful and entertaining, and then, draw a line and add them up, the' answer will be 'baddy Long-Leg's.' To that result you might even add brilliant, pathetic and humorous,' but the answer even then wo'; ; l be just what it was before— the play which Miss fi&v Webster has made from her book, 'Daddy Long-Legs,' and which was presented at the- Gaiety last night: To .attempt , to describe the simplicity and beauty of 'T>addy-Lons-Legs' .would, be like attempting to describe the first breath of Spring after an exceedingly tiresome' and liard .Winter." "Daddy Long-Legs"" enjoyed a- two-years' run in New York and was then toured for over three years, and is now published in play form for the first time. Price, 75 cents. (The Above Are Subject ■to Royalty 'When Produced) SAMUEL, FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th street, New York City New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request "PleaseOmit Flowers" A CHARACTER COMEDY IN ONE ACT By NATHANIEL L. FORSTER CAUTION — Professionals and Amateurs are hereby warned that "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS," being fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States, is subject to a royalty, and anyone pre- senting the play without the consent of the author or his authorized agents will be liable to the penalties by law provided. Application for amateur and profes- sional acting rights must be made to SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York, N. Y. Copyright, 1930, by Nathaniel Ladd Forster NEW YORK SAMUEL FRENCH PUBLISHER 28-30 WEST 38TH STREET 1 LONDON samuel French, Ltd. 26 SOUTHAMPTON STREET Strand PS 3511 OS 5 3 P7 Permission to act, read publicly, or make any use of "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS," must be ob- tained from SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York. It may be presented by amateurs upon payment of royalty of five dollars, each performance payable to Samuel French three days before the date when the play is given. Professional rates quoted on application. Whenever this play is to be produced, the follow- ing note must appear on all programs, printing and advertising for the play : "Produced by special arrangement with Samuel French of New York. OTTl (^VJ^ PERSONS OF THE PLAY James Wilson. Dick Wilson (his son). Dr. Brightling. Jonas Wayling. Ruth Wayling (his daughter). Messenger and Maid. Scene. Living-room in the Wilsons' New York house. Doors l. and r. Windozv at back, table in c. with large bowl of flowers. Telephone on desk at l. Fireplace at l. Enter r. Dr. Brightling and Dick, Dr. Brightling with coat, hat and gloves. Brightling. I must admit, Dick, that your father's present condition is discouraging. These cases, verging on mental obsession, are sometimes serious. I can't understand Dr. Gaunt's having humored him so far. I am surprised that he didn't mistrust your father's imaginary symptoms. (Takes off coat and gloves) Dick. Oh, I suppose that some doctors get in the way of giving their patients what they expect, and Brightling. (Coldly) Come, Dick, you for- get! And Dr. Gaunt's standing in the profes- sion Dick. (Heartily, as he rises and affectionately puts his hand on Dr. Brightling's shoulder) Par- don me, Doctor. Of course I know; But he isn't the good old family doctor. We have no such doubts about you, sir. I 2 "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" Brightling. (Gruffly) Thank you, Dick, but Dr. Gaunt Dick. Anyhow, there were others. Let's see, Dad's been to a chiropractic, an osteopath, and an early-morning- wet-grasser. Brightling. (Indignantly) And who was that objectionable party named Pettijohn? Richard. Oh, yes, and I actually barred the doors to him. He called himself an orthopedon- trist, and nearly persuaded Dad that he had the foot and mouth disease. Brightling. And your father's as sound as a nut, except possibly for a touch of rheumatism, which we must expect at his age. Dick. He complains of indigestion now, among other things. Brightling. And why not? It would take a steel-lined digestive tract to stand up against the flood of rare and fancy liquids and powders he is firing into it. Dick. And the worst of it is, he seems to take a melancholy pleasure in holding before me the im- minent possibility of his early death. I can hardly open a window without his looking at me reproach- fully and saying sadly that after all it won't matter much, as he's not long for this world anyway. Brightling. Too bad ! (Shakes his head) Dick. It is too bad. Here we are, comfortable and cosy as two old chums could well be in our bachelor hall, and he glooms around and spoils everything. It's very detrimental to housekeeping. Brightling. Yes, I know. Dick. And it's a serious matter in business. Even after Dad took me in as junior partner he was still the brains of the concern. Had a positive intuition. I studied the market, labor condition, or lack of it, statistics, and even the Congressional "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" 3 Record, and made up my mind whether to buy or sell and announced it to Dad. But often he wouldn't agree. He would have a hunch it wouldn't break that way, and he was usually right. Brightling. And now Dick. Now I might as well be alone. He can't or won't put his mind on business. I've been wrong twice this week. The only thing I could get from him was a discussion of respiration and appendi- citis. He even mistook the ticking of his watch, one day, for the angry complaining of the appen- dix. Brightling. (Musing) And yet, I don't be- lieve your father actually believes himself in a serious condition. I don't think he actually appre- hends death. Dick. No, and if there were some way to show him the disagreeable features of the whole business, perhaps (Telephone rings) Pardon me a mo- ment. (Goes to telephone) Hello! Yes, this is the Wilsons'. No, this is his son. Can I take a message, Father isn't quite up yet. Oh, yes, of course, how stupid of me. How are you, Miss Wayling? Yes, of course, you and your father must come right up. Yes, he will be up in a few minutes, and we'll both be glad to see you. (Hangs up receiver and comes toward Brightling,) Brightling. Another doctor? Dick. No, one stage further along. An under- taker. It's Mr. Wayling and his daughter. I had almost forgotten about them, although only tem- porarily so far as the daughter is concerned. One wouldn't forget her for long. Brightling. But why an undertaker? Dick. (Laughs) You see I had to make a busi- ness trip to our old home town, Salisbury, last week, and ran across one of father's old neighbors, the 4 "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" village undertaker ; his daughter is certainly a win- ner. He told me they were coming to New York this week. Some convention. And I invited, them to come to see father. Brightling. Do you think this will add to your father's cheerfulness ? Dick. No, I don't suppose so. (Pauses, as an idea strikes him) By Jove! It may be just the thing we are looking for. Brightling. What do you mean, Dick? Dick. Why, don't you see? We may be able to help Dad. (Wilson enters in negligee and bath robe, pushing tea wagon filled with medicines, surgical cot- ton, bandages, etc' Stops at chair and eases himself carefully into it, with wagon along- side) Wilson. What's that? Help me? (He wags his head gloomily. To the Doctor,) Ah ! The op- timism of youth, eh, Doctor ? Brightling. (With amazement) What on earth are you doing with that moving drug store, James ? Wilson. (Complacently) Rather a good idea, isn't it? You see, Doctor, I concluded it would be safer to have restoratives at hand at all times, espe- cially while taking a bath. I might have a sinking spell while in the tub. Dick. Good heavens, Dad, what next? A cake of ivory soap might be reasonable, but that wagon! Brightling. (Sarcastically) Yes, it's well to be prepared, "I suppose. I never fancied drowning, myself. They say that your past life passes in re- view before your eyes as you go down for the third time. Probably you're in no condition to watch that. Wilson. (Wearily) I suppose that's humorous, "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" 5 Doctor, but you'll excuse me if I don't seem to ap- preciate it. I'm by no means improved to-day. A little weaker, I fear. Brightling. Lord, James, I've a good mind to throw up your case and leave you to your fate. (Picks up box from wagon) What's this ? (Reads label) Eureka Sanito Compound. Revitalizes the vitality. Do you know what's in this vile stuff ? Wilson. Now, Doctor, don't get excited. I told you that lately, in addition to the regular symptoms and definite pains, I've been feeling languid after meals, despite the fact that my appetite is unusually good. Brightling. Humph ! Because of it, I should say. (Determinedly) Look here, James, there's a limit, and this is it. (Throws box in fire) Wilson. (Reproving) Come, Doctor, that's go- ing a bit too far, even for an old friend. That com- pound had definitely reduced my palpitations and steadied my pulse and made me more cheerful. Brightling. But I found your pulse entirely normal only yesterday. Wilson. When you took it, perhaps, but before you came ! (He sighs) I'm getting a new electric vibrator made. It has a better grip. I saw a testi- monial from one of New York's leading undertak- ers saying he had been much helped by it. Dick. Which, his health or his busmess? (Enter Maid,) Maid. A Mr. and Miss Wayling have called. They are in the reception room. Dick. Oh, yes, I'll bring them up. (Exit Dick and Maid,) Wilson. I wonder who they are. I used to know Brightling. (Somewhat sarcastically ) Prob- 6 "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" ably the priest and priestess of some new cult that feeds on the feeble-minded. Wilson. (Angrily) Are you referring to my mind? Brightling. Yes, I mean your mind. I mean what was your mind. I mean you are acting like a fool. I mean you'll throw all that stuff away and put yourself absolutely under my treatment or I'm through with you. No self-respecting physician could do otherwise. (Shaking his finger) Mind you, James, nobody knows your case, such as it is, as I do, and no one is likely to. But you'll take my orders or I'm through. Through! Wilson. (Rising in dignity) Very well, Doc- tor. No one takes that tone to me. You are through. (The two old friends glare at each other. Brightling makes hasty exit, r. Wilson lets him- self down into chair, presses his hand against his heart and gasps. Enter r., Dick, Wayling and Ruth. Wayling is tall, thin, and rather sallow, with black side whiskers. He is dressed in old-fash- ioned black frock coat, silk hat with wide crepe band, black gloves and black silk tie. Ruth is a pretty and demure young girl of about nineteen, who carries portfolio. Wayling carries black bag) Dick. Dad, here are some old friends from Salisbury. Wilson. Why, how are you, Jonas? Wayling. How de do, James. (Shakes Wil- son's hand) Wilson. You'll excuse me for not getting up. I've been pretty low this past month. I was feeling a little better this morning, but I've just had a most distressing scene and it's left me weak. Dick. (Impatiently) Oh, Dad! Wilson. With one of my oldest friends, Dick, I have just dismissed Dr. Brightling. "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" 7 Dick. (Genuinely shocked) What! Wilson. But this is unpleasant for our guests. (Rises painfully and shakes hands with Ruth. Looks inquiringly at her) And is it possible that this is Ruth? Well, I'm very glad to see you. (Takes her hand) I hardly knew you. You've grown up since I was last in Salisbury. Ruth. I'm very sorry you're not well, Mr. Wil- son. Wayling. (Solemnly) It is indeed sad, James, to find an old friend who was always the picture of health, in this unhappy condition. (Turns to Dick ) Richard, allow me to express my condolences. (Goes back to table and arranges flowers with pro- fessional air, and tiptoes back) Wilson. (Who has watched this act with a slight shudder) Oh, well, I feel a little better now. Perhaps this is the turning point. Wayling. I wish I could think so, James. If I hadn't known so many cases like yours, I should have more confidence. Wilson. (Taking pill) And is this your first visit to New York, Ruth? We must try to forget my condition, and see that you have a good time. Dick can take you to the theater, and perhaps for a little spin through the park. Have you seen much of New York yet? Ruth. No, Mr. Wilson. Father has been so busy attending the convention. But he's promised to take me to Trinity Church Graveyard and Grant's Tomb this afternoop. He feels that we ought to see them, as it will be helpful to his busi- ness and have a broadening effect. Dick. Oh, I'm sure we can think of something better. Perhaps I could go with you to the con- vention. Wilson. Is it a musical convention? 8 "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" Ruth. No, it is the Annual Convention of the Funeral Directors' Association. Wilson. Oh. Dick. I think it would be better to go to a foot- ball game. There is one at the Polo Grounds. It seems a bit more lively. Wilson. Well, Jonas, how's your health ? You haven't changed a bit in ten years. I suppose there's something about the business that keeps you young. Or have you discovered an Elixir of Life? I wish I could. Wayling. No, James, I could hardly consist- ently advocate in an active way an Elixir of Life, though I am always glad of anything that helps my friends. I'm pretty well, thank you, but haven't the energy I once had. Then there's a new Funeral Director come to Salisbury lately, and business ain't quite what it was, though I still get the cream of it. Last week I lost a prospect I was pretty near sure of. In fact I'd been promised the business by the deceased himself. (Sighs) But his widow was so taken up by a new-fangled trimming for the casket that she went to Greensward. He's my competitor. Wilson. (Somewhat nervously) Yes, I sup- pose one has to keep up to date, even in your busi- ness. Wayling. We call it a profession, James. Yes, Susan says to me last week : "Jonas, you must not let that upstart undermine you." And it was partly on her advice that I came to New York for the convention. I'm glad I came. It's been real in- spiring. I'll go back with fresh energy and new ideas. Wilson. Must you leave to-day? Dick. (Looking at Ruth ) Oh, no, we can't hear of it. You must certainly spend the night. It'll do Dad no end of good. He needs cheering up. "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" 9 Ruth. I'd like to but I fear Father will Wayling. No, I must go back. Old Mr. Ben- ton was by no means a well man when we left, and I can't afford in these times to take any chances of being away when he passes on to his reward, — which, I trust, may be long delayed, — I mean, of course, his passing on. I got some elegant ideas for his funeral from the convention. His wife wants to have something a little special. That reminds me, James, while I'm here perhaps you'd like to look at some of the plates in White's new Casket Cata- logue. (Turns to Ruth ) Daughter, hand me White's. It's in the portfolio. (Ruth shakes her head at her father, but opens portfolio and hunts for catalogue) Wilson. (Nervously) Oh, don't bother. I'm good for several years yet. Wayling. I hope so, James, but from what I see, it's as well to be prepared for the unexpected. You look a little overweight and your color's high. Why, only last month Tom Keeting was taken very sudden, and his poor widow had never given a thought to mortuary details. She was much dis- tressed because she didn't know what Tom would have fancied. (To Dick,) Maybe you'd like to look at them, top, Richard. After all it's you that perhaps ought . to decide, although many departeds make all arrangements themselves. It's just a mat- ter of taste. Dick. I hate to think of these things, though I realize Dad's condition may justify your feeling about it. Wayling. Yes, we must all come to the casket sooner or later, so why not take a practical view of it? As the poet Bryant so beautifully said Ruth. Father, don't you think we could discuss a little more cheerful subject? io "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" Wayling. Cheerful? What was I saying that wasn-'t cheerful? Surely- Wilson. (Who has been showing signs of in- creasing nervousness) Come into my study, James. (Rises) There's a little book I have that I'd like to show you. It's called "Dream and Get Well." It was recommended by Dr. Steer, a practitioner of the Happy Thought School. Wayling. I don't know, James. It sounds a little visionary. Wilson. (Looking at his watch) Dick, I be- lieve it's time for one of those red pills. (Looks at label) Or two. (Reads label) "One pill three hours after eating, and two pills two hours before eating." This is very confusing. I think I'll take three now, so as to be on the safe side. (Takes three pills, then slowly pushes wagon toward door at ■l.) Come, Jonas. Wilson. Oh, before I go, Dick, will you just count my pulse carefully, while I hold the watch. I think it skips a beat sometimes. Jonas, perhaps you would hold the other wrist and count, so as to be sure we're right. (Dick and Wayling each hold a wrist and begin counting in unison, Dick counting considerably faster) Dick. One, two, three, four, five, six. Wayling. One — two — three Wilson. (With alarm) What does this mean? I seem to have double pulse. Get me the book of symptoms. No, it's in the study. Come, Jonas. (Exit Wilson and Wayling, l .) Dick. (Dramatically, with one hand on temple) A book of symptoms underneath the brow, a box of pills, a stethescope, and wow! Ruth. (Smiling slightly) I don't believe you ought to make fun of your father like that, Mr. "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" n Wilson, especially when he has so many pains and pulses and things. Dick. That's it. There are so many. By the way, couldn't you call me Dick ? You see the name of Wilson tends to depress me since Dad's taken to symptoms. Ruth. I don't know. It seems a more cheerful name than Wayling. Dick. Yes, I suppose it is. But in that case I should be perfectly willing to call you Ruth. I don't like the sound of Wayling myself. Ruth. I'm afraid it will be a little hard to call you Dick just at first. Perhaps I could begin with Richard, or Richard Wilson. Dick. That would take too long. And we have only a short, time to talk to each other. Something tells me our parents will soon return to our midst. Ruth. I'm so disturbed because father got on the subject of funerals. It seems impossible to keep his mind off business. That reminds me. I wish you would give me some advice. Dick. Ruth, I'm very, very strong on advice. Ruth. You see, I spent six months in Boston studying music about a year ago, and they told me I was developing a promising voice. Dick. I wish it were a promising voice. (Ruth looks a little disturbed) Pardon me, Ruth, it's a very nice voice, anyway. Ruth. I love music, but father asked me to come home to help him in his business. About the flowers and all that. So I gave up my music and went back. But I hate it, and get so depressed at times. I wonder whether it is my duty to stay. You see an aunt of mine has invited me to live with her for a year in New York so I could take up my music again. Djck, (With a judicial air) I will give you my 12 "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" best and most impartial advice if you will promise to follow it. Ruth. I don't know that I should promise. But, yes, I will if you will give me your really hon- est opinion. Dick. The answer is New York. Your aunt needs you. Music needs you. New, York needs you, and I — I mean Dad needs you. Moreover, I'm sure your life in Salisbury will undermine your health. Do you have any pleasure at all? Do you ever go to a concert or dance ? Ruth. I learned to dance> in Boston, but there isn't much chance in Salisbury. They don't seem to invite me often to the few dances there are. I suppose they think of me as an undertaker's daugh- ter, and imagine I am looking at them with a — well Dick. With a sort of speculative eye? The hounds ! Ruth. I did go to a, dance in Buffalo recently. It was the Funeral Directors' Annual Ball. But it wasn't very merry. Dick. I should say not. That settles it. You come to New York and we will dissipate madly with theaters, dances, skating, and all sorts of things. And you must help me now. Ruth. Help you? Dick. Yes, you can help your father and me to convince Dad that the business of dying is disagree- able. You'll see. Ruth. Here they come now. (Enter Wilson and Wayling, l., Wilson pushing wagon) Wayling. No, James, I cannot recommend cre- mation. I wish you could have heard the eloquent "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" 13 and convincing address of our retiring president at last night's meeting on the Trend Against Crema- tion. He proved conclusively that it is but a pass- ing fad and that there is a strong drift back to the coffin. (Offers catalogue to Wilson ) Now here is one of the very latest - designs in oak. You know oak is coming in again. They say it is a little more cheer fill. Wilson. (Looking hastily at catalogue) A fun- eral certainly needs all the cheerfulness it can get. Wayling. I assume, James, you will be buried in the old family lot at Salisbury? Wilson. (With increasing impatience and dis- taste) Good Heavens ! I haven't given the matter a thought, and don't intend to. Ugh! It gives me the shudders. Wayling. (Soothingly) Quite natural, I'm sure. Many subjects seem to feel that way. Ruth, hand me that portfolio. Ruth. Oh, Father, I don't believe (Looks at Dick,) Well, perhaps it's best. (Takes magazine from portfolio and hands it to Way- ling,) Wayling. There, this is the arrangement of flowers I was speaking of. It was used in one of the finest funerals ever held in Buffalo. Dick. Would you let me see the magazine? (Reads title) Sunnyside. Cheerful title, anyway. Wayling. Yes, it used to be called the Under- takers' Friend, but the circulation has dropped off since they changed the name. It ain't appropriate. Dick. Here's a very interesting article, Dad, discussing the relative advantages of quartet and solo music. Have you any personal preference ? Wilson. (Explosively) What's the matter with you, Dick? What's the matter with all of you? It's getting on my nerves. 14 "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" Ruth. Father, don't you think we ought to be be going? You won't have time to see much. Wayling. (A little impatiently ) Yes, yes, Ruth, very soon. But there's one or two more im- portant matters we haven't discussed. Dick. Why is it necessary to hold the funeral in Salisbury ? Why couldn't it be held here ? Wilson. (More indignant) This is too much. What the devil do you mean? Dick. But how could it be held in Salisbury? Don't you want your friends present? Wayling. That could all be arranged, Richard. A second and final funeral could be held in Salis- bury, though it's a little unusual. Ruth. Father, we must go. (Dick goes to her and puts restraining hand on her arm) Wayling. Yes, in just a moment. There's just one thing more. (To Wilson ) Would you prefer the new combination auto funeral hearse? I could get one from Buffalo, though I'd have to engage it some weeks ahead, as they are in great demand. There is a separate compartment for the casket, one for the minister, a medium-sized one for the chief mourners, and a large one for the less afflicted. Wilson. (Throwing up his hands) Good Lord ! Wayling. Ah, well, perhaps you agree with me, that the old-fashioned hearse, with separate car- riages, is more dignified. Wilson. (Rising angrily and knocking bottles off wagon) In the name of all that's holy, you're all talking as if my death were set for a certain, definite date. Engage it ahead, indeed ! (Makes ' passes in the air, and sinks back into chair) (Enter Messenger r. with package) Messenger. Got a package for Mr Wa Wi "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" 15 Wilson. Bring it here. (Messenger hands package to Wilson, who removes paper and discov- ers floral piece. Thrusts floral piece violently back into Messenger's hands. Looking up) What's that? Messenger. Ain't it for you? Wilson. (Ferociously) No, it ain't for me. (Thrusts floral piece violently back into Messen- ger's hands) Wayling. (Raising a calming hand) That's for me, son. Mr. Wayling, eh? ( Messenger looks at card and nods) It is such a beautiful and chaste design, I ordered it to take home. Messenger. They gave me a telegram for you, too. (Wayling takes telegram and opens. Slight satisfaction appears on his face, but is quickly sup- planted by professional grief) Wayling. I must hasten away. A most im- portant call of duty. Poor Mr. Benton has been summoned. So sad. So sudden. So unexpected. Good-bye, James. Good-bye, Richard. (Kisses Ruth J Good-bye, daughter. You may stay with your aunt for a few days if you wish. (Turns to go out, hesitates, fumbles in pocket and produces card, which he hands to Dick,) You might give that to your father in case you think it advisable. Good-bye. (Exit R.) Dick. (Reading card as Wilson walks angrily up and down) Zebediah Quickly, Hampton, N. Y., Monuments and Tombstones. Orders promptly and neatly attended to. Wilson. (Seizing card and tearing it up in two) Dick, take that wagon out and never let me see a pill or powder again. No, I'll dispose of it. I'll cremate it. (Gives wagon a kick, and follows it to door L., then turns, and points accusing finger at Dick, as idea strikes him) You young rascal ! I 16 "PLEASE OMIT FLOWERS" believe you had something to do with this. But whether you did or not, I'm cured. Cured ! I don[t fear death itself, but preserve me from the formali- ties attending it. (Exit L.J Dick. (Joyfully) Ruth, how can I ever thank you ? (Takes both her hands) Ruth. But I didn't do anything. Dick. Well, you provided the parent, anyhow, and now it's settled, of course, that you're to take up your music again. Ruth. (Demurely) Of course you understand I've got to work very hard. Dick. Oh, of course, but an occasional dance won't hurt. There's going to be one next week. We'll celebrate Dad's recovery. It's the Annual Ball of the Association of Life Insurance Presi dents. (Enter Wilson, dressed for the street. Crosses be- hind table) Dick: Hello ! What are you going to do, Dad ? Wilson. I'm going for a five-mile walk! Call up Brightling, will you, Dick, and make him come to dinner. We'll have a celebration. But say, Dick. Dick. Yes, Dad. Wilson. Tell him to please omit flowers. (Exit R.J CURTAIN BILLETED. A comedy in 3 acts, by F. Tennison Jesse and H. Harwood. 4 males, 5 females. One easy interior seen". A charming comedy, constructed with uncommon skill, and abounds with clever lines. Margaret AngHn's bi-T success. Amateurs will find this comedy easy to produce and popular with all audiences. Price, 60 Cents. NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. A comedy in 3 acts. By James Montgomery. 5 males, i females. Costumes, modern. Two interior scenes. Plays 2J-£ hours. Is it possible to tell the absolute truth — even for twenty-four hours? It is — at least Bob Bennett, the hero of "Nothing But the Truth," accomplished the feat. The bet he made with his business partners, and the trouble he got into — with his partners, his friends, and his fiancee — this is the subject of William Collier's tremendous comedy hit. "Nothing But the Truth" can be whole-heartedly recommended as one of the most sprightly, amusing and popular comedies that this corns trv can boast. Price, 60 Cents, IN WALKED JIMMY. A comedy in 4 acts, by Minnie Z. Jaffa. 10 males, 2 females (al- though any number of males and females may be used as clerks, etc.). Two interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Plays 2}4 hours. The thing into which Jimmy walked was a broken-down shoe factory, when the clerks had all been fired, and when the proprietor was in serToiis contemplation of suicide. Jimmy, nothing else but plain Jimmy, would have been a mysterious figun had it not been, for his matter-of-fact manner, his smile and his ewrlast'ng humanness. He put the shoe business on its feet, won the heart of the girl clerk, saved her erring brother from jail, escaped that place as a permanent boarding house himself, and foiled the villain. Clean, wholesome comedy with just a touch of human nature, just a dash of excitement and more than a little bit of true philosophy make "In Walked Jimmy'' one ci the most delightful of plays. Jimmy is full of the religion of life, the religion of happiness and the religion of helpfulness, and he so permeates the atmosphere with his "religion" that everyone is happy. The spirit of optimism, good cheer, and hearty laughter dominates the play. There is not a dull moment in any of the four acts. We strongly recommend it. Price, 60 C«nts. MARTHA BY-THE-DAY. An optimistic .comedy in three acts, by Julie M. Lippmann, authc* of the "Martha" stories'. S males, 5 females. Three interior scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2\ \ hours. It is altogether a gentle thing, this play. It is full of quaint hu- mor, old-fashioned, homely sentiment, the kind that people who see the play will recall and chuckle over to-morrow and the next day. Miss Lippmann has herself adapted her very successful book for stage service, and in doing this has selected from her novel the most telling incidents, infectious comedy and homely sentiment fcr the play, and the result is thoroughly delightful. Price, 60 Cents. (The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 We»t 38th Street. New York City New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Roquet? THE REJUVENATION OF AUNT MARY. The famous comedy in three acts, by Anne Warner. 7 males, 6 females. Three interior scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2# hours. This is a genuinely funny comedy with splendid parts for "Aunt Mary," "Jack," her lively nephew; "Lucinda," a New England an- cient maid of all work; "Jack's" three chums; the Qirl "Jack* 1 loves; "Joshua," Aunt Mary's hired man, etc. "Aunt Mary" was played by May Robson in New York and on tour for over two years, and it is sure to be a big success wherever pro- disced. .We atrongl7 recommend it. Price, 60 Cents. MRS. BUMSTEAD-LEIGH. A pleasing' comedy, in three acts, by Harry James Smith, author of "The Tailor-Made Man." 6 males, 6 females. One interior scene. Costumes modern. Plays 2J4 hours. Mr. Smith chose for his initial comedy the complications arising from the endeavors of a social climber to land herself in the altitude peopled by hyphenated names — a theme permitting innumerable com- I plications, according to the spirit of the writer. This most successful comedy was toured for several seasons by Mrs. Fiske with enormous success. Price, 60 Cents. MRS. TEMPLE'S TELEGRAM. t A most successful farce in three acts, by Frank Wyatt and Wil- liam Morris. 5 males, 4 females. One interior scene stands through- out the three acts. Costumes modern. Plays 2 J / 2 hours. "Mrs. Temple's Telegram" is a sprightly farce in which there is an abundance of fun without any taint of impropriety or any ele- ment of offence. As noticed by Sir Walter Scott, "Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive." There is not a dull moment in the entire farce, and from the time the curtain rises until it makes the final drop, the fun is fast and furious. A very exceptional farce. price, 60 Cents. THE NEW CO-ED. A comedy in four acts, by Marie Doran, author of "Tempest and Sunshine," etc. Characters, 4 males, 7 females, though any number ex boys and girls can be introduced in the action of the play. One interior and one exterior scene, but can be easily played in one inte- rior scene. Costumes modern. Time, about 2 hours. The theme „f this play is the coming of a new student to the col- lege, her reception by the scholars, her trials and final triumph. There are three especially good girls' parts, Letty, Madge and Estelle, but the others have plenty to do. "Punch" Doolittle and George Washington Watts, a gentleman of color, are two particularly good comedy characters. We can strongly recommend "The New Co-Ed" to hie. 1 " schools and amateurs. Price, 30 Cents. (The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City !ifw and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Fres o> Recusal Golden Days A comedy of youth, in four acts, by Sidney Toler and Marion Short. 7 males, 10 females. Three Interior scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2% hours., "Golden Days'?- is a play with all the charm of youth. It enjoyed a run of sixteen weeks in Chicago with Patricia Collinge in the leading role, and was then brought to the Gaiety -Theatre, New York, with Helen. Hayes in the part of "Mary Anne." Price, 75 cents. Come Out of the Kitchen A charming comedy in 3 acts, adapted by A. B. Thomas from the story of the same name by Alice Duer Miller. 6 males, 5 females. Three interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Plays 2%. hours. "Come Out of the Kitchen," with Ruth Chatterton in the leading role, made a notable success on its produc- tion by Henry Miller at the Goha-n Theatre, New York. It was also a great success at the Strand Theatre, Lon- don, A most ingenious and entertaining comedy, and we strongly recommend it, for amateur production. . Price, 75 cents His Majesty Bunker Bean -A farcical comedy irt four acta. By Lee 'Wilson Dcdd, from che novel by Harry Leon Wilson, 12 maleSj 6 females. Pour interior scenes. Costumes, modern, Plays 2% hours. Those who have laughed immoderately at Harry Leon Wilson's story 'will be greatly amused by the play, which tells the story of a cowed and cred-' ulous youth who became kingly "when he was tricked into believing himself a reincarnation of Napoleon. "H-is ■ Majesty Bunker Bean," with Taylor Holmes in the title role, was brought to the Astor Theatre, New York, after a run of 25 weeks in Chicago. A delightful and wholesome farce, comedy with no dull moments. Price, 75 cents A Full House A farcical comedy in three, acts. By Fred Jackson. 7 males, 7 females. One interior scene. Modern cos- tumes. Plays 2% hours. This newest and funniest of all farces was written by Fred Jackson, the well-known short story writer, and. is backed up by the prestige of ah impressive New Yoj-k success and the promise of unlimited fun presented in the most attractive form.. A cleverer farce has not been seen for many a long day. "A Full House" is a house full of laughs. Price, 75 cents (The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City New and Explicit Descriptive Cntalognpe Mailed Free on Keqilest Clarence ■'1 A comedy in four acts by Booth Tarkington, auth of "The Man From Home," "Penrod," "The Count! Cousin," etc". 5 males, 5 females. Two interior seer _ Costumes, modern. Plays 2% hours. Clarence has no medals, no shoulders bars, no gre accomplishment. One of the "Ave million," he servi, where he was sent — though it was no further than Tex^ As an entomologist he found — on this side of the OCear, no field for his specialty in the great war. So they him to driving mules. Now, reduced to Civil life- and seeking a job, he finl,; a position in the, home of one, Wheeler, a wealthy EniJ elwood man with a family. And because he'd "been [ the army" he becomes guide, philosopher and friend ■ the members of that same agitated and distracted fan group. Clarence's position is an anomolous one. mends the bathroom plumbing, he tunes the piano, types — off stage — hie plays the saxophoner And arou him revolves such a group of characters as only Boo Tarkington could offer. It is a real American corned and the audience' ripples with appreciative and delight laughter. Those marvelous young people, Cora and Bobby "Wnei^ er, are portrait sketches warranted to appeal to eve one but the -originals. Their truth will be lost On "Flapper" and the "prep" school youth, but to their pa enta and guardians, to all, indeed, who have emerg from the serious, self-conscious, period of adoleseen they will be an enduring joy. "Clarence." is a real delight. It is as' American "Huckleberry Finn" or pumpkin pie. It is as deligr ful as any native comedy which has trifed to lure laughter of this country in the last ten seasons. . Price, 75 cer Three Live Ghosts A comedy in three acts by Frederick Ishara and Marcin. 6. males, 4 females (2 policemen). One interi scene stands throughout- the three acts. Costumes, dern. Plays 2% hours. "Three Live Ghosts" is brim full of fun and humor is sure to keep audiences in gales of laughter. New York critics described it as the most ingenio and amusing comedy of the season and genuinely heartily funny. It played a full season in New Yo and then totired.the big cities. A lively comedy of me we can strongly recommend for amateur production. Price, 75 cen (The Aliovn Are Subject -to Rpyajty When Produced) SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York New and Explicit DeHeriiBfive C'italog-ue Mailed Frr« or Retlnest Lj ay lord |^ GAYLAMOUNT® I PAMPHLET BINDER SSS Syracuse, N.Y. SSZ Stockton, Calif. Cornell University Library PS 3511.0853P7 Please omit flowers' :a character corned 3 1924 022 422 426