Down in Paradise Alley HARRY L NEWTON'S I One-Act Comedy Sketches, Monologues and Dramatic Episodes A Rose of Mexico A Pair Of Pants A Jack And His Queen A Drama Talking Act A Comedietta An Invitation To The Ball Comedy Sketch Chatter Monologite for Males Down In Paradise Alley Comedy Sketch Family Secrets Monologue Izzy's Vacation A Summer Episode Keep Your Eye On The Ball Comedy Sketch Meet My Wife A Comedy Drama The Spirit of Captain Kidd Comedy Two Girls And Him Comedy Sketch What Every Woman Thinks She Knows Suffragette Monologue ^"> ^ M. WITMARK & SONS, Witmark Building 144-146 West 37th Street, NewYork DOWN IN PARADISE ALLEY By HARRY L. NEWTON CopyrigM 1913 by M. WITMARK & SONS International Copyright Secured M. WITMARK & SONS Publishers Witmark Building, 144-146 W. 37th Street, New York CHICAGO SAN FRANCISCO LONDON PARIS Professional performing rights reserved Note. — The acting rights of this Playlet are ex- pressly reserved by the Publishers, to whom Theatrical Managers and performers who wish to produce it should apply. Amateur representation may be made without such application and zvithout charge. TMPS6-DC7197 / ©CI.D 34011 %i( CHARACTERS. Harold Summerdale, A Young Wall Street Broker "Jerry'' O'Connell A Street Singer Locality. — ''Jerry's" home in Paradise Alley on the East Side of New York. SYNOPSIS. Harold Summerdale, a young college graduate, has fallen in love with **J^'"ry" O'Connell, a little East Side street singer, as good as she is pretty, who flatly refuses to marry a rich man unless he can prove his love for her. After a charming scene, in which comedy and pathol are beautifully blended, "Jerry" consents. The specialties introduced throughout the playlet are, of course, at the option of the performers, or may be eliminated if so desired. COSTUMES. Harry Summerdale — Neat business suit, lean- ing to the college make-up effect. "Jerry" O'Connell. — Tattered dress, but clean ; old shoes, battered straw hat. Change to a neat Organdie or any gown that a girl in her walk of life would wear to a Bricklayers' Ball. PROPERTIES. Mandolin for "Jerry," and a large paper box con- taining change of costume. STAGE DIRECTIONS. As seen by a performer on the stage, facing the audience, R. means right hand; L., left hand; C, center of stage ; L. 3 E., at upper L. of stage ; R. 5 E., at upper R. of stage ; R. C, right of center. DOWN IN PARADISE ALLEY Scene. — ''Jerry's home in Paradise Alley on the East Side of New York. An old set house is at R. C. Boxes and barrels are scattered about stage, the whole effect being a ''tumbledown shanty alley" one. "J^^^y" ^s dressed at first entrance in a tat- tered costume, being a girl of the streets, then changes to gown she carries in box. Harold is nicely dressed in a business suit, leaning to the col- lege make-up effect. At rise of curtain, "J^^^y" comes on from L. 3 E. hurriedly, looking over her shoulder into wings. She has a mandolin under one arm and a large paper box under the other. Jerry — Well, Fm a goat if there don't come that Willie Boy that's been trying to chuck love chatter at me for the last month. T don't know what to make of that guy. (Turns and walks to door of house, sets box and mandolin on Hoor.) But he ain't got no chance with love stuff to-night, 'cause it's me for the Bricklayers' Annual Ball, and I won't have no time to swap love patter with no dude. {Enter Harold L. 3 £^., stops, takes off hat and bows very politely to Jerry.) Harold — Oh, good evening. Miss Jerry ! I didn't know whether I'd find you in or not. DOWN IN PARADISE ALLEY Jerry — Well, don't let me keep you from any other business that you come on. Harold — But I came to see you. Jerry — I'm sorry, but I ain't receivin' this even- ing. I just come from me dressmaker with me new gown. {Pointing to box.) And I'm goin' to dress up flashier than a band on a nickel-movement see- gar, and then hie me to the Bricklayers' Annu — I Ball. Harold — What! You've bought a new dress, and — Jerry — Nix. Who said bought? I rented it. Say, I been saving my coin for this e — vent for a long period, and now I'm going to blow it like a chorus girl engaged to a steel trust magget. Harold {Disappointed) — I'm sorry you're going out. I wanted to talk to you. Jerry — Say, Willie Boy, listen! You've been chasing down here to Vanderbilt Alley for the past month. I ain't saying but what you've acted like a regular gent, but ladies what move in my circle of society has got to be awful particular in grabbing a gentleman friend. Up on Fifth Avenue, where you live, the ladies don't have to be so particular — and they ain't. Harold {Laughs) — Jerry, I know it must seem strange that I, a millionaire's son, should be run- ning after Jerry, the little street singer, but — Jerry — Yes, and listen again. You've got to slip me a carefully selected line of chatter to keep me from thinking that you're a fresh guy, a rummie, or DOWN IN PARADISE ALLEY both. Now, come on with your alibi, and if the evidence don't Hsten good to me, I'll send you on the trail to Broadway with your head in a sling. Did you get that ? Harold (Surprised) — Did I get it? I certainly did ; and now for my alibi. You mustn't think for a moment that I'm a — a fresh guy, as you put it. I've never done any wrong in all my life, and I have certainly too much respect for you to — to of- fend you in any way. I like you very much, Jerry, and I — Jerry — Say, Willie Boy, don't get mushy ; don't do it ! I met a guy at the last Bricklayers' Annu — 1, and he was so mushy that he made tapioco pudding look like brick ice cream alongside of him. Harold (Laughs) — All right. I'll try not to get "mushy," but — say, Jerry, to please me can't you modify your language some? Jerry — Modify my what ? Harold — Modify your language. You use such awful slang. Jerry — Say, listen ! Any time my chatter grates on your nerves, beat it and beat it quick! As for me, I got to don me spangles and do a getaway for the Bricklayers' Annu — 1. (Picks up box and starts to go in door.) Harold — Just a moment. Before you go would you mind singing me just one song? (Aside) May- be I'll get my nerve together and tell her I love her. Jerry — Say, that's the easiest thing I do besides eat. (Aside) He ain't so bad, for a Willie Boy. DOWN IN PARADISE ALLEY (Gets guitar and mandolin.) Here, grab a box and help me scatter the noise. (Introduce specialty.) Harold (After specialty) — I wish you weren't going to that ball to-night. I came down here espe- cially to tell you something. Now, suppose I were to tell you that — that I love you? (Trying to take her hand.) Jerry (Drawing away) — Gee! but you're a big scream. So are all you college chaps, with your trousers turned up so high that a fortune-teller can see your past and future without the aid of a deck of cards. But something whispers to me that if a real wise boy ever rambled up to me and chucked a line of love patter like Mickey O'Brien sneaked over on his steady, that it would be all off with little Jerry. Harold (Laughs) — Mickey O'Brien, eh? And what is Mr. O'Brien's system? Jerry — There ain't no system to it. His gal's me pal, and she said that Mickey just galloped up to her one night and opened fire like this : ''Hello, Maggie, I just loped over here to tell you that we've got to either sign articles for a finish fight or say good-bye. I'm sure tired of blowing carfare down here three nights per week. I've looked 'em all over and you're the prize kiddo of the East Side. Now what's the answer? Do we tangle up or split?" And Maggie tore Mickey's necktie doing the quick clinch. Harold (Laughs) — Well, I guess I'll have to get DOWN IN PARADISE ALLEY Mickey to give me a few lessons. (Aside) She's immense ! Jerry — My, gee, but I'm crazy to get in the mid- dle of these glad rags. (Picks up box.) Harold — I'd like to see you in that dress. What style is it ? Jerry — I ain't exactly hep, but I think it's one of those directory creations, with the slit up the side — you know what I mean — the peek-a-boo gag. Any- how, here goes ! Now for me budwar. (Exits into house. ) Harold (At door) — May — may I come in? It's rather chilly out here. Jerry (Screams, closes door) — Not on your life ! Harold — Oh, very well. I'll smoke, then. (Feel- ing in pocket for cigar.) Jerry — I'm sorry, but there ain't no reception room in here. This is a one-room flat. Harold (Laughs) — Well, I wouldn't mind if I had something to smoke. Jerry (Hands out Saxophone) — Here, take this Dutch pipe and smoke your head off. (During his specialty she changes her dress.) Harold — My favorite instrument. (Introduce Saxophone solo.) Jerry (Enters from door after solo in neat dress) — Say, Willie Boy, if it ain't too much trouble, look me over and tell me if you think I got a chance at the Bricklayers' Annu — 1. Harold (Aside) — She's immense, and I knew it! 10 DOWN IN PARADISE ALLEY {To her) I don't know, Jerry, but Vll take a chance with you. Jerry — What's the hint ? Harold — That's right. I've been hinting long enough. Now I'm going to ask you right out. Will you — will you — {Pulling at collar.) Gee! but this collar's tight. Will you — be my wife? There, it's out ! Jerry — Say, you ain't chucking no bluff, are you ? Harold — No, Jerry, I mean it. Jerry — And you ain't looking for no affinity or soul mate, are you ? Harold — No, I want you to be my wife. Jerry {Sighing) — Oh, but this is so sudden! Harold — Then you consent? {Tries to embrace her.) Jerry {Waznng him azvay) — Fade, Willie, fade — just a minute. Harold — Listen, Jerry, I mean the honorable thino: by you. I want to take you away from here — take you to my own home. We'll be married this very night — right away, and — Jerry — And miss the Bricklayers' Annu — 1? Harold — Oh, hang the Bricklayers' Annual ! Jerry — Cut out the rough stuff. I had me heart set on that affair, and — pipe the gown. What's to become of that, eh? Harold — I'll buy you all the gowns you can wear. You must listen to me, Jerry. You must! Jerry — Oh, as to that, I don't need you. I can DOWN IN PARADISE ALLEY get along, Willie Boy. I can get along, but I ain't saying where I'll get to. Harold — That's why I want you. You can't go wrong with me. I'll take good care of you. You shall have everything that money can buy. Jerry — You ain't said much about love. Do you think you'll have time to chuck in a little love now and then ? Harold — I shall love you with all my heart and soul. Jerry — Well, that listens swell. You know, now- adays folks don't seem to be so strong on the love dope. It's a case of how much coin have you got, and will you let it out to play every day. Harold (Laughs) — I know, Jerry, but — Jerry (Sitting on box) — I'm a-thinking, Willie Boy — I'm a-thinking. (Elbows on knees and chin in hands.) Harold — My family is one of the oldest in New York. My father is a Wall Street broker, and — Jerry — Yes, I know. My father used to tell me to be kind and gentle to plain crooks, like burglars and hold-up men, but to keep the chain on the door if I seen a Wall Street broker coming. He said they'd lean up against wet paint so's they could take something home with 'em that didn't belong to 'em. Harold (Laughs) — Nothing like that in our fam- ily, Jerry. Jerry (Pointing at box) — Sit down. (He sits.) I know your family and it's O. K. with me. That's one trouble. 12 DOWN IN PARADISE ALLEY Harold — Why, Jerry — Jerry (Sadly) — Listen. You've asked me to he your wife — the wife of Harold Summerdale of Fifth Avenue — me, Jerry O'Connell, the street singer of Vanderbilt Alley ! Now what'll the swell folks say when I ramble in and sling some of my East Side lingo ? Harold — I don't care what — Jerry {with emotion) — Maybe you don't, Willie Boy, but they will. I never had no chance to come clean with the language gag. Never had no chance to do nothing, but live down here, and — say, many's the time I wished for enough money to buy ten cents' worth of hot dog at night and then have enough coin left to say good morning to a cup of coffee! But I'm Maggie Inwrong, and always have been. Mother died before I got me lamps half open, and father — say, he was strong for the booze, and ever since I could creep I had to take care of him instead of him me ! But I ain't knocking him, 'cause he's gone, too, and many's the time he done me kind things when the booze was out of his sys- tem. And after he went — say, but I was lonesome 1 I was that lonesome that I could have joined the Salvation Army for company. And now you come and ask me to be your wife. To leave the old life and the old home I knew so long. The place where I was born and growed up. (Rises.) The only home I ever knew ! Take a pike at it, Willie Boy — ain't it a peach? (Turns and points to house R. C.) DOWN IN PARADISE ALLEY Harold (Rises and looks at house) — And you'll come with me, Jerry ? Jerry (Smiling) — Yes, I think I'll take a chance. But you got to wait a minute till I pack me trunk. (Exit into house, then noise of things being thrown about, and she re-enters with toy trunk.) Harold — Great Scott ! Is that a trunk ? Jerry — What's it look like — a stack of wheat cakes ? Harold — Then you are sure you won't regret this step, and — ( Music starts playing a dreamy waltz. ) Jerry (Commencing to keep time to music zvith her feet) — Say, Willie Boy, listen to that I Grab me and waltz me till I say "stop." Harold (Taking her in his arms, and waltzing) —When will that be ? Jerry — When we get to the Bricklayers' Annu — 1 — then you can waltz me some more. (They waltz tivice around the stage, then exit walt:;ing.) CURTAIN. COMIC STORIES AND TALES EDITION DE LUXE. (Illustrated by Ke;ier.) "CASEY AT THE BAT." The recitation made famous by that well-known comedian, DE WOLF HOPPER. No matter what role Mr. Hopper is playing or in what part of the country he is, his audience always calls for "CASEY." The universal demand for an edition exactly as re- cited by Mr. Hopper induced us to issue one that is absolutely correct. Price, 25 cents, postpaid. "COURTING UNDER DIFFICULTIES." An Absurdity for Story Tellers. By Frank Dumont In relating this tale the entertainer shows how his old friend, who is the chief officer of a prominent organization, endeavors to "pop the question" to a buxom widow. He starts off all right, and is getting along famously when he suddenly becomes excited and incoherent, and before he or the fair damsel, at whose feet he is prostrated, realizes what's what, he finds himself alternating the lines of his proposal with the speech he prepared to deliver before his organization. The "confusion" that follows is most original in con- ception and cleverly worked out. The right novelty for a bright monologist. Price, 25 cents, postpaid. "HOW I DIED AT SAN JUAN." An Eccentric Narrative. By Frank Dumont. An "absolutely different" monolog or story from everything else published. The entertainer wanders through a "dreany of the species "pipe" and tells some of the most fantastical experiences and achievements imaginable. The surprise finish to this vivid descrip- tion cannot fail to create vociferous enthusiasm and laughter. Price, 25 cents, postpaid. "THE CRUSHED ACTOR," Or YOU CAN'T KILL HIM. A Screamingly Funny Interlude. Arranged by Frank Dumont. CAST. Mr. Golddust Gotrox. Lucy Gotrocks. Footlight Barnstormer, a reduced actor. Chrisfield Moke, a crab and fish vender. A most excellent comedy sketch for two comedians, one soubrette and one leading man. Price, 25 cents, postpaid. POSITIVELY NO PLAYS EXCHANGED. M. WITMARK & SONS 86 Witmark Bldg. New York DRAMATIC SKETCHES "THE LAST OF THE CARGILLS." A Dramatic Scene for 1 Male and 1 Female. A beautiful story, full of sentiment and refined humor of the Southland. An excellent opportunity for a wo- man who can portray the old time southern "mammy," and for a man who can depict the old southern lover. A character full of dignity and pathos. The scene shows the dining-room in an old southern mansion on Christmas day. Outside the snow is falling, inside all is bright and cheerful. George Cargill has the Christmas dinner table laid with covers for all his lost loves, and his best friend; although he alone sits at the board. In a reminiscent mood he recalls all the qualities, good and bad, of his one time sweethearts and of his best friend, and speaks as though they were present. Finally when "Old Mammy" brings in the turkey she finds that "the last of the Cargills," has gone to join those he loved, in the great beyond. Price, 25 cents, postpaid "JOHN CLAYTON, ACTOR!" A Play in One Act for 2 Males and 1 Female. This little play might well be called " a modern Gar- rick," and closely follows the general theme of Gar- rick, although it is entirely different. Louise Warren has worshipped at the shrine of John Clayton, a successful actor, and has attended all of his performances, to the consternation and dismay of her relatives and friends. Finally her father. Colonel Warren, a typical southern gentleman of the old school, calls on Clayton to per- suade him to leave the country or in some way to break off the infatuation of his daughter. Louise learns of this visit of her father and also calls at Clayton's rooms to warn him as she fears her father may do him some harm. Clayton promises to disillusion Louise and assumes the disguise of Clayton's servant, and after hiding Colonel Warren, admits Louise to whom he paints Clayton as the most lewd villain. Finally Colonel Warren appreciates the sterling qual- ities of Clayton, and the sacrifice he is making, enters the room and tells Louise, Clayton is only acting, and is in reality all she had imagined him to be — her ideal. He consents to their union, and all ends felicitously. Price, 25 cents, postpaid M. WITMARK & SONS 86 Witmark Bldg. New York AU13 3 PLAYS— SKETCHES AND MONOLOGUES "THE HABITAT'S REVENGE." A Play in One Act. For 2 Males. By Gordon Roger«. A Canadian-French trapper, while recalling how he and his daughter were wronged by a stranger to whom he showed hospitality, twenty years ago, that very night, and plotting revenge, is suddenly visited by apparently the same man, whom he recognizes, but who does not recognize him. Taking the visitor at a disadvantage, the trapper, before wreaking vengeance upon him, discloses his identity, and recites his wrongs to him, recalling how he was robbed of his only daughter, twenty years before, by the handsome stranger. While the trapper is seeking his child his aged father dies at home, and the daughter afterwards returns to her father's cabin only to die on its threshold. For all this, vows the trapper, the other must die, but just as the much-wronged man is about to put his threat into execution, the younger, realizing that he is the son of the wrongdoer, declares himself just in time to save his life. A powerful dramatic story, most effectively told, and affording opportunities for the portrayal of a strong character study and of an attractive juvenile part. Price, 25 cents, postpaid "THE REHEARSAL." A Novel Social Entertainment. For 7 Females. By Effie W. Merriam. In this most amusing playlet the participants mingle with the audience, thus making the entertainment ap- pear to be entirely extemporaneous. Neither stage, scenery nor special costumes are needed to make it effective: in fact "The Rehearsal" may be acceptably given either in the parlor or on the porch or lawn, and is so arranged that very little memorizing is neces- sary — a great point in its favor, especially when but little time can be given to preparation. Price, 25 cents, postpaid "WHEN WOMEN RULE US." Burlesque and Court House Scene. By Frank Dumont. 20 Characters. This satire is arranged specially for ladies wherein all the characters are assumed by them; the two hus- bands being represented by the ladies also. This burlesque may be used by gentlemen who, at- tired in grotesque imitation of female wardrobe and fads, can create any amount of laughter by imitating the gentle sex in mannerisms. Price, 25 cents, postpaid M. WITMARK & SONS 86 Witmark Bldg. New York LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 910 047 9