■m? m5 \ HoUinger ( pH8.5 A DRAMATIC E V E .'j A FARCE I BV / JOHN KEMDRICK BANGS. bsi^y^ ^Hj^- Copyright, 1.895, by Harper 5: Brothers. ^J^EDITORS DRAWER ^'^.^l^ ^ "(il.AD TO SEE MK ?" A DRAMATIC EVENING. BY JOHN KKNDRICK BANGS. Characteru: Mr. Thaddeus Perkins. le in the boxes to eat peanuts as expect an orclies- tra-chair patron to whistle on his fingers. Mrs Perkins. I should die of mortification if you ever sliould do such a vulgar tiling, Thaddeus. Perkins. Then you needn't be afraid, my dear. I'm too fond of you to sacrifice you to my love for whistling. [The front-door bdl rings.) Ah, there is the carriage at last. Pli go and get my coat. [Mi'S. Perkins rises., and is abonl to don her wrap as Mr. Pei'kins goes towa^'d the door. Enter Mr. and Mrs. Bradley. Perkins staggers back- ward in surptrise. Mrs. Perliins lets her wrap fall to the foor, an expression of dismay on her face. Mrs. Perki^is (aside). Dear me! I'd forgotten all about it. This is the night the club is to meet here ! Bradley. Ah, Perkins, how d' y' do? Glad to see me? G:id ! yon don't look it. Perkins, (ilad is a word which scarcely expresses my feelings, Bradley. I — I'm simply de-lighted, (Aside to Mrs. Perkins, w/to has been gi'eeting Mrs. Bradley.) Here's .^i kettle of fish. We must get rid of them, or we'll miss the Lyons Mail. Mrs. Bradley. Yon two are always so formal. The idea of your putting on your dress suit Thad- deus ! It 'U be ruined before we are half through this evening. Bradley. Certainly, Perkins. Why, man, when EDITORS DRAWER. 159 you've been moving furniture and taking up carpfts and ripping out firepha-es for an liour or two, that coat of yours will be a rag — a veritable rag that tlie ra"nian himself would be dubious about buying. Perkins {iisidc). Are tliese folk crazy? Or am I? (Aloiul.) Pulling up fireplaces? Moving out fur- niture? Am I to be dispossessed? Mrs. Bratlliii. Not by your landlord, Ijut iion know wliat amateur dramatics are. Bradley. I doubt it. He wouldn't liave let us have 'em here if he had known. Perkins. Amateur — amateur dramatics ? Mrs. Perkins. Certainly, Thaddeus. You know we offered our parlor for the performance. The audi- ence are to sit out in the hall. Perkins. Oh — ah! Why, of course! Certainly! It had slipped my mind; ami — ah — what else? Bradkii. Why, Wf'ie here tu-night to arrange the scene. Don't tell us you didn't know it. Bob Yards- ley's coming, and Barlow. Yardsley's a great man for amateur dramatics ; he bosses things so pleasant- ly that you don't know you're being ordered about like a slave. I believe he could persuade a man to hammer nails into his piano-case if he wanted it done, he's so insinuatingly lovely about it all. Perkins (nhsenllii). I'll get a hammer. [&;7. Mrs. Perkins (aside). I must explain to Thadileus. He'll never forgive me. (^Afond.) Thaddeus is so forgetful that I don't believe he can find that ham- mer, so if you'll excuse me I'll go help him. [Axil. BrnfUei'i. Wonder what's up? They ilnn't riiuir- rel, ilo they? Mrs. Brudhy. I don't believe any one could cpiar- rel with Bessie Perkins — not even a man. Bradlei/. Well, they'ie queer. Acted as if they weren't glad to see us. i[rs. Bradfei/. Oh, that's all your imagination. (Links ahniil the room.) That table will have to be taken out, and all these chairs and cabinets ; and the rug will never do. Bradley. Why not? I think the rug will look first-rate. Mrs. Bradley. A rug like that in a conservatory? [^■1 rinr/ at the frotit-door hell is heard. Bradley. Ah ! maybe that's Yardsley. I hope so. If Perkiiis and his wife are out of sorts we want to hurry up and get through. Mrs. Bradley. Oh, we'll be through by twelve o'clock. Enter Yardsley and Barlow. Yardsley. Ah ! here we are at last. The wreck- ers have arrove. Where's Perkins? Barlow. Taken to the woods, I fancy. I say, Bob, don't you think before we begin we'd better give Perkiiis ether? He'll suffer dreadful agony. Knter Mrs. Perkins, leipimj her eyes. Mrs. Perkins. How do you do, Mr. Barlow? and yon, Mr. Yardsley ? So glad to see you. Thaddeus "will be down in a minute. He — ah — he forgot about the — the meeting here to-night, and he — he put on his dress-cuat. Yardsley. Bad thing to lift a piano in. Belter be witlioiit any coat. But — I say we begin — eh ? If you don't mind, Mrs. Perkins. We've got a great deal to do, and unfortunately hours are limited in length as well as in number. Ah! that fireplace must be covered up. Wouldn't do to have a tire- place in a conservatory. Wilt all the flowers in ten mimites. Mrs. Perkins (meekly). Y'ou needn't have the fire lit, need you ? Barlow. No — but — a fiieplace without fire in it eeeraa sort of — of bald, don't you think ? 3'ai(Wfv. Bald? Splendid word applied to a fire- place. So few fireplaces have hair. Mrs. Bradley. Oh, it could be covered up without any trouble, Bessie. Can't we have those dining- room portieres to hang in front of it? Yardsley. Just the thing. Dining-room portieres always look well, wdiether they're in a conservatory or a'street scene, (©ito- Perkins.) Hello, Thad- deus! How d' y' ? Got your ovcriills on ? Perkins (tryiny to appear serene). Yes. I'm ready f(H- anything. Anything I can do? Bradley. W'fi — li)iik pleasant. Haven't you a smile you don't need that you can give us? This isn't a funeral. Perkins (assuminff a yrin). IIow'll that do ? Barlow. First-rate. We'll have to make you act next. That's the most villanous grin I ever saw. Yardsley. I'll write a tragedy to go with it. But I say, Tha'd, we want those dining-room portieres of yours. Get 'em down for us, will you ? Perkins. Dining-room portieres ! What for? J/fS, Perkins. They all thitik the fireplace would better be hid, Thaddeus dear. It wouldn't look well in a conservatory. Perkins. I suppose not. And the dining-room portiferes are wanted to cover ttp the fireplace ? Yard.4ey. Precisely. You have a matuigerial brain, Thaddeus. You can see at once what a din- ing-room portiere is good for. If ever I am cast awav on a desert island, with nothing but a dining- room portiere for solace, I hope you'll be along to take charge of it. In your liaiuls its possibilities are absolutely unlimited. Get them for us, old man; and while you are about it, bring a steplad- der. (Exit Tha(ideus, dejectedly.) Now, Barlow, you and Bradley help me with this piano. Pianos may do well enough in gardens or pirates' caves, but for conservatories they're not worth a rap. Mrs. Bradley. Wait ;i moment. We nnist take the bric-^-brac from the top of it before you touch 'I'l.I. BE GLAO IF you'll CARRY THE SOFT PEDAL." HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. 160 it. If tliere are two iiiconipiitible tilings in tliis world, tliev are men and brie-a-brae. Mrs. r'erkins. You are so tlionglilf'nl, thonj^li I am sure tliat Mr. Yardslcv would not break any- thing willingly. Barlow. Nothing but the ten eoniniandnients. Yardslev. They aren't bric-a-brac; and I thanh vou, Mrs. PerUins, for your expression of confiiience. I wouldn't intentionally go into the house of another man and toss his Sfevres up in the air, or throw his Royal Worcester down stairs, e.\cept under very great provocation. (Mrs. Perkins ayid Mrs. Bradley have bi/ this lime removed the bric-d-hrac from the jnaiio—an upright. ) Now, boys, are you ready ? Bradley. Where is it to be moveil to ? Yardsleti. AVliere woidd you prefer to have it, Mrs. Perkins? Mrs. Perkins. Oh, I have no preference in the matter. Put it where you please. Yardsley. Suppose you carry it up into the attic. Barlow. Barlow. Certainly. I'll be glad to if you 11 carry the soft pedal. I'm always afraid wlien I'm carry- ing pianos up stairs of breaking the soft pedal or dropping a few octaves. Yardiley. I guess we'd better put it over in this corner, where tlie audience won't see it. If you are so careless that vou can't move a piano without los- ing its tone, we'd better not have it moved too far. Now, then. [Barlow, Yardsley, and Bradley endeavor to push the piano over the floor, but it doesn't 'move. Enter TevXiWS. with two portieres wrapped about him, and hngoing a small slepladder in his arms. Bradley. Hurrv up, Perkins. Don't shirk so. Can't vou see that we're trying to get this piano across "the floor ? Where are you at ? Perkins (meekly). I'm trying to make myself at home. Do you" e.K]iect nie to hang on to these things and move pianos at the same time? Barlow. Let him alone, Bradley. He's doing the best he l|iose it wouldn't do to turn the water off iu case of danger, Barloii; It could be done, but it wouldn't look well. AVhere is the entrance from tlie ballroom to be y Yarchley. It ought to be where the fireplace is. That's one reason why 1 think the portieres will look well there. Mrs. Perkins. But I don't see how that can be. Nobody could come in there. There wouldn't be room behind for any one to stand, would there '? Bradley. I don't know. That fireplace is large, and only two people have to come iu that way. The rising curtain discloses Gwendoline just having come in. If Hartley, tlie villain, and Jack Pendle- ton, the manly young navy officer, who represents virtue, and dashes in at the right moment to save Gwendoline, could sit close and stand the discom- fort of it, they might squeeze in there and await their cues. Mrs. Perkins. Sit in the fireplace? Ya7'dsley. Yes. Why not? Perkins. Don't you interfere, Bess. Yardsley is managing this show, ami if he wants to keep the soubrette waiting on the niiintel-piece it's his look- out, and not ours. Yard.ileii. By -the -way, Thaddeus, Wilkins has backed out, and you are to play the villain. " IT WOULD BE AWKWAKII.' Perkins. I? Never! Barlow. Oh, but you must. All you have to do is frown and rant and look real bad. Perkins. But I can't act. Bradley. That doesn't make any difference. We ilon't want a villain that the audience will fall iu love witli. That would be immoral. The more you make them despise you, the better. 162 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Perkins. Well— I positively decline to sit in the fireplace. I tell you that right now. Mrs. Bradley. Don't waste time talking about petty details. Let the entrance he there. We cm haiii; the curtain on a frame two feet out from tlie walCso that there will be plenty of room beliind for Hartley and Pendleton to stand. The frame can be fastened to the wood-work of the niantel-pieoe. It may take a screw or two to hold it, but they'll be hi"h up, so nobody will notice the holes in the wood after it comes down. The point that bothers nie is thi.s wall-paper. People don't put wall-papers on their coTiservatories. Perkins {sarcastically). I'll have the room repa- pered in sheet-glass. Or we might borrow a few hot-bed covers and hang them from the picture- moulding, so that the place would look like a real greenhouse. YarMei/. Napoleonic idea. Barlow, jot down among the properties ten hot-bed covers, twenty picture-hooks, and a coil of wire. You're develop- ing, Perkins. Mrs. Perkins {ruefully, aside). I wish Thaddens's jokes weren't always taken seriously. The idea of my drawing-room "walls being hung with hot-ljed covers ! Whv, it's awful. Yardslei/. Well, now that that's settled, we'll have to dispose" of the pictures. Thaddeus, I wish you'd take down the pictures on the east wall, so that we can put our mind's eye on just how we shall treat the background. The mere hanging of hot-bed cov- ers there will not do. The audience could see di- rectly through the glass, and the wall-paper would still destroy the illusion. Perkins. Anything. Perliaps if you got a jack- plane and planed the walls off it would suffice. Bradleti. Don't be sarcastic, my boy. Remember we didn't let von into this. You volunteered. Perkins. I know it, Bradley. The house is yours. Barlow. I said you had paresis when you made the offer, Perkins. ' If you want to go to law aliout it, I think you could get an injunction against us— or rather Mrs. Perkins could— on the ground that you were ?(on compos at tlie time. Mrs. Perkins. Why, we're most happy to have you, I'm sure. Perkins. So 'm I. (.-Is;*.) Heaven forgive mc that ! , . T Yardslei/. By-the-way, Thad, there's one thmg 1 meant to have' spoken al)Out as soon as I got hero. Er — is this I/our house, or do you rent it? Perkins. I rent it. What has that to do with it? Bradley. A great deal. You don't think we'd treat your house as we would a common landlord's, do vo'u? You wouldn't yourself. Yardsley. That's the jioint. If you own the house we want to be careful and consider your feelings. If you don't, we don't care what happens. Perkins. I don't own the house. (Aside.) Aud under the circumstances I'm rather glad I don't. Yardsley. Well, I'm glad you don't. My weak point is my conscience, and wlien it comes to de- stroying a "friend's property, I don't ex.actly like to do i't. But if this house belongs to a sordid person, who built it just to put money in his own pocket, I don't care. IJarlow, you can nail those portiferes up. It won't be necessary to build a frame for them. Bradlev, you carry tlie chairs and caljinets out. [Bradley, assisted liy Perkins, removes^ the re- maining furniture, placing the bric-d-brac on the floor. Barlow. All right. Where's that stepladder? Thaddeus, got any nails ? Mrs. Perkins. I — I think we'd rather have a frame, Mr. Yardsley. We can liave one made, can't we, Thaddeus ? Perkins. Certainly. We can have anything made. (Aside.) I suppose I'li build a theatre for 'em if they asked me to, I'm such a confounded — Yardsley. Oh no. Of course, if you'd prefer it, we'll send a frame. I don't think nails would look well in this ceiling, after all. Temporarily, though. Barlow, you might hang those portiferes from the picture-moulding. Barlow. There isn't any. Yardsley. Well, then, we'll have to imagine how it will look. Mrs. Bradley. All the bric-i-brac will have to be taken from the room. Yardsley. True. Perkins, you know the house better than we do. Suppose you take the bric-il- brac out and put it where it will be safe. Perkins. Certainly. [Begins to remove bric-d-brac. Yardsley. Now let's count up. Here's the foun- tain. Barlow. Yes ; only we liaven't the hose. Bradley. Well, make a note of it. .Ifrs. Perkins. Emma, can't we help Thaddeus ? Mrs. Bradley. Of course. I'll carry out the fend- er, and you take the andirons. [T/iey do so. Yardsley. The entrance will be here, and here will be the curtain. How about foot-lights? Bradley. This bracket will do for a connection. Any plumber can take this bracket off and fasten a rubber pipe to it. Yardsley. First-rate. Barlow, make a note of one plumljcr, one length of rubber pipe, and foot-lights. Bradley. And don't forget to have potted plants and palms, and so forth, galore. Barlow. No. I'll make a note of that. Will this sofa do for a conservatory? Yardsley. Jove ! Glad you mentioned that. Won't do at all. Thaddeus ! (X'o answer.) I hope we haven't driven him to drink. Bradley. So do I. I'd latlier he'd lead us to it. Yardsley. Thaddeus ! Perkins (from without). Well ? Yardsley. Do you happen to have any conserva- tory benches in the house? ^[rs. Perkins (appearing in doorway). We have a patent laundry table. Barlow. Just the thing. Ya7-dslcy (calling). Bring up the patent laundry table, Thaddeus. (yo Bradley.) What is a patent laundry table? Bradley. It's what my wife calls the cook's de- light. It's an ironing-board on wash-days, a supper table at supper-time, and on the cook's reception days it can be turned into a settee. Yardslei/. It describes well. Perkins ( from a distance). Hi ! come down and help me with this thing. I can't carry it up alone. Yardsley. All right, Perk. Bradley, you and Bar- low lielp 'Thaddeus. I'll move these other chairs and tables out. It's getting late, and we'll have to hustle, [Exit Barlow. Bradley meanwhile has been re- moving pictures from the walls, and, as Yards- ley .ipeaks, is standing on the stepladder reach- ing up for a painting. Bradley. What do you take me for— twins? Yardsley. Don't get mad, now, Bradley. If there's anvthing that can add to the terror of amateur the- atricals it's temper. Mrs. Bradley ( from withont). Edward, come here right away. I want you to move the hat-stand, and see how inany people can be seated in this hall. EDITOR'S DRAWER. 163 Bradley. Oh yes, certainly, my dear — of course. Right away. My name is Legion — or Dennis. Yarddey. Tliat's tlie spir- it. (A crash is lunrd with- out.) Great Scott! Wljat'.s tliat ? Mrx.Perkinsiieilhout). Oh, Thaddeus ! Bradley. Tliey've dropped the eooli's deliKlit. [He mines dmim from the stephidder. He mid. Yardsley yo ont. 'J'lic pictures are piled up on the floor, the furni- inre is lopsy-lnrvy, and the porfit'res lie in a heap on the hearth. Elder Mrs. Perlcins. Mrs. Perkin.1. Dear, dear, dear! What a mess! And poorTliadiieus! I'm glad iie wasn't hurt; but I — I'ru afraid I heard him say words I never heard liim say liefore when Mr. Barlow let the ta- ble slip. Wish I h.adn't said anytldng about the table. Enter Mrs. Bradley. Mrs. Bradley. Tliese men will drive me crazy. They are making more fuss car- rying that laundry table up .'•tairs than it it was a liouse; and the worst of it is our tuisbands are losing their tempers. Mrs. Perkins. Well, I don't wonder. It must be awfully trying to have a laundry table fall ou vou. Mrs. Bradley. Oh. Thad- deus is angelic, but Edward i.-i absolutely ine.xcusable. He and it sounded particularly pr a screw and a jiictui-e-liook in his mouth. Yardsley (outside). It's almost as heavy as the piano. I don't see why, either. [ The four men appear at the door, stayyt riiiy under the weiyht nf the laundry table. Perkins (as they set it down). Whew! That's what I call work. What makes this thing so heavy';" Mrs. Bradley (as she opens a drawer and takes out a half-dozen piatcnt flat-irons and a handle). Tiiis has something to do with it. Why didn't you take out the drawer tirst'/ Yard.iley. It wasn't my fault. They'd started with it Itefore I took hold. J didn't know it had a drawer, though I did wonder w iiat it was that rattled around inside of it. Bradley. It wasn't for me to suggest taking the drawer out. Thaddeus ought to have thought of that. Perkins (aiif/rily). Well, of all — Mrs. Perkins. Never mind. It's here, and it's all right. Yardsley. That's so. We mustn't quarrel. If we get started, we'll never stop. Now, Perkins, roll up that rug, and we'll get things placed, and then we'll be througli. Barlow. Come on ; I'll help. Bradley, get those 'this has SOSIKTHINCi TO IK) WITH IT." swore a minute ago, :)fane because he liad picuires off the rug. Don't be so careless of Mrs. IVrkins's property. Bradley. Careless? See here now. Barlow — Mrs. Bradley. Now, Edward — no temper. Take the pictures out. Bradley. Ami wlieie shall I take the pictures out to? Yardsley. Put 'em on the dmiug-room table. Perkins (aside). Tiirow "em out the window, for all I care. Bradley. Eh? Perkins. Nothing. I — er — I only said to put 'cm — el' — to put 'em wherever you pleased. Bradley. But / can't say where they're to go, Thaddeus. This i.sn't iny house. Perkins (aside). No — worse luck — it's mine. ^h•s. Perkins. Oh — put them in the dining-room ; thev'll be safe there. Bradley. I will. [He heijins carrying tlie pictures out. Perkins, Barlow, and Yardsley roll up the my. Yardsley. There! You fellows might as well carry that out too; and then we'll be ready for the scene. Barlow. Come along, Thaddeus. You're earning your pay to-night. Perkins (desperately). May I take my euat oiT? I'm boiled now. 164 HARPER'S NEW MONTHLY MAGAZINE. Ifrs. Bradley. Certainly, I wonder vou diJn't think of it before. Perkins. Think ? I never think. Yarihley. Well, go aliead in your thoiiglitless way and get the rug out. You are delaying us. Perkins. All right. Come on. Barlow, aie you ready ? Barlow. I am. [ Tlieij drac/ /he my out. Yardsley. At last. {liejiluces the tub.) There's the fountain. Now where shall we put the cook's delight ■? 3frs. Perkitis. Over here, I should say. Mrs. Bradley, /think it would be better here. Bradley (laho has retnrned). Put it half-way be- tween 'em, Yardsley. I say give in always to the ladies ; and when they don't agree, compromise. It's a mighty poor woman that isn't half-right oc- casionally. Mrs. Bradley. Edward I "Varddey [adopting the sayyesti"u). There ! How's that ? Perkins {relurniny). Perfect. I never saw such an original conservatory in uiy life. Mrs. Perkins. I suppose it's all right. What do you think, Emma ? Mrs. Bradley. Why, it's simply fine. Of course it requires a little imagination to see it as it will be o!i tlie night of the performance; but in general I don't see how it could be better. Barlow. No — nor I. It's great as it is, but when we get the hot-bed covers hung, aud the fountain playing, and plants arranged gracefully all around, it will be ideal. I say, we ought to give Yardsley a vote of thanks. Perkins. That's so, We're very much indebted to Yardsley. Yardsley. Never mind that. I enjoy the work ■\'ery nnich. Perkins. So glad. (Aside.) I wonder when we get a vote of thanks? Bradley {looking at his watch). By Jove, Emma, it's after eleven ! Mrs. Bradley. After eleven? Dear me! I had no idea it was as late as that. How time flies when you are enjoying yourself! Really, Edward, you ought not to have overlooked the time. You know — Bradley. I supposed you knew we couldn't pull a house down in five minutes. Perkins. What's become of the clock? A[rs. Perkiits. I don't know. Who took the clock out ? Barlow. I did. It's under the dining-room table. Mrs. Bradley. Well, we mustn't keep Bessie up another moment. Good-night, my dear. We have had a delightful time. Mrs, Perkins. Good-night. I am sure we have enjoyed it. Perkins (aside). Oh yes, indeed ; we haven't had so much fun since the children had the mumps, Yardsley. Well, so long, Perkins. Thanks for your help. Perkins. By-ljy, Barlow. Good-night. Yardsley. Don't bother about fixing up to-night, Perkins, I'll be around to-morrow evening and help put things in their usual order, [ They all go out. The good-nights are repeated, and finally the front door is closed, lie-enter Perkins, vho falls dejectedly mi the settee, followed iiy Mrs, Perkins, who gives a rueful glance at the room. Perkins. I'm glad Yardsley's coming to fix us up again, I itever could do it, Mrs. Perkins. Then I must. I never can ask the girls to do it, and I can't have my drawing-room left this way over Smiday, Perkins (wearily). Oh, well, shall we do it now? Mrs. Perkins. No, you poor dear man; we'll stay home from church to-morrow moiiiing and do it. It won't be any harder work than reading the Sunday newspapers. What have you there? Perkins (looking at two tickets he has abstracted from his vest pocket). Tickets for Irving — this even- ing — Lyons Mail — third row from the stage. I was just thinking — Mrs. Perkins. Don't tell me what you were think- ing, my dear. It can't be expressible in polite lan- guage. Perkins. You are wrong there, my dear. I wasn't thinking cuss-words at all. I was only reflecting that we didn't niiss much anyhow, under the circum- stances. J//-5. Perkins. Missmncli? Why, Thaddcus, what