A DRAMA IN ONE ACT by Clarence F, Hoke Price 25 cents THE BURGLAR A DRAMA IN ONE ACT by Clarence F, Hoke Copyright, 1916, by Clarence F. Hoke mBBimmmmmmmmm '■^^, 10 4 3348 MAR I4I9I6 The Burglar A Drama in One Act. iBy Clarence P. Hoke. CHARACTERiS. DOROTHY Little Lady of the House JIM "THE BURGLAR" MARGARET Dorothy's Mama scene — Living room. Fireplace center L. Switch for lights, R. of fireplace. Door lower R., window center flat. Sofa along right wall Big leather chair ito the left front of fireplace, back toward window. Table in center, not far from leather chair. Othsr chairs and anything' else to make room look comforitable. Time — Early evening, after dark, in winter. Fire in fireplace, window shade drawn. At ris'e of curtain, lights are all off. The only light in the room is from the fire in the fireplace. Dorothy, five-year-old girl, is seen sitting on ithe floor, in front of leaJther chair, with light of fir'e shining on her. Dorothy playing with doll. DOROTHY. (To doll, trying to make it sit up.) Sit up there, I tell you. (Doll falls over.) Are you going to mind me or not? (Tries again, with same result.) Mary Jane, you're a bad girl. Don't you know mama has something else tc do 'besides fooling with you? (Again doll refuses ito sit up.) I'm going to give you a good spanking! (Spanks doll.) Now, will you sit up? (Tries again, but doll falls over. Sighs fretfully.) Oh, dear! It's no wonder we mamas go crazy! What are we going to do with girls like you? (Sits doll against table leg.) There, now, I g'uess you'll sit up. Now, I'll see if I can have some peace. (Begins to work on doll clothes.) (Window raises and masked burglar enters from 'behind curtain, with flash light in his hand. Dorothy is so busy with doll clothes, that she does not hear burglar. He moves around room softly, flashing light as he does so. He does not see Doro'thy. As light flashes near Dorothy, she sees it and watches it in silence, wondering what it is. As light travels over to the other side of the room, she sees the burglar, not knowing who he is. In her innocence, she is not afraid, and jumps up quietly, stands and looks at him for a minute and th'en goes to light switch and turns on the lights. Burglar jumps 'back, startled at seeing the lights.) DOROTHY. What's the matter? Couldn't you find the switch? There It is. (Pointing to switch she has just turned.) JIM, The devil! Caught in my first game! And by a baby, too! This is tough! (Stands still, wondering what to do.) DOROTHY. (Bursts into laughter.) ^My, how funny you look. You're the funniest looking man I ever saw. What have you got that thing on your face for? (Pointing at mask.) JIM. This is no place for me. (Starts toward window, with intention of going.) DOROTHY. (Runs up and grasps his hands.) ^Oh, don't go! Come on and keep me company until mama comes. I'm lonesome. (Jim wants to go, but her sweet innocence holds him and he stops and stares at her.) ^Please stay. No one will hurt you. There's only Mary Jane and me. JIM. Who's Mary Jane? DOROTHY. My dolly. She's right over there. Now please don't go. Come over here and sit down like a good man. (Pulls him over toward sofa.)— — There! Now I'll get Mary Jane and show her to you.- (Gets doll and comes back, sitting beside Jim.) Isn'it she pretty? (Soberly.) ^But she's a,wfully naughty. I had to give her a good spanking a little while ago. I'm her mama, and she won't mind me a bit, JIM. awful time with How many babies DOROTHY. She's the only one. (Sighs.) ^^I don't know what I'd do if I had any more, if they all acted like she does. (Looks at doll re- proachfully.) JIM. 'Maybe she's spoiled. DOROTHY. If she is, I don't know who's done it. I'm sure I haven't. There isn't a day of her life She won' t? DOROTHY. No, her. she won't! I have an JIM. We U, now; that' 's too 'bad! have you? that I don't have to spank her. And even then she won't mind. If anybody else has spoiled her. I'd like .to know who it is. I'd give them a ipiece of my mind. JIM. That would be awful, wouldn't it? DOROTHY. I'd make them think it was awful. I'm spunky when I get started. JIM. Well, if- that's the case, I think I will go before you get started now. (Starts to rise.) DOROTHY. (Quickly laying doll beside her and catch- ing hold of him with both hands.) No, no; I don't want you to go. I like you. Take your hat off like a nice man. (Takes his hat off and lays it on the table as she speaks.) Now, stay and talk to me until mama comes. She's an awfully good mama, and I want you to meet her. JIM. That woud never do. (IStarts again to go.) DOROTHY. (Hanging- on to him.) ^Why wouldn't it? JIM. Because your mama wouldn't like me at all. She'd be awfully mad if she knew I was here. DOROTHY. No, she wouldn't either. And she would like you, too, especially if you had that dirty old thing off of your face. (Reaches up and snatches mask off of his face before he can prevent her, and throws it across the room as far as she can, then snuggles up to him. JIM. Now, you've done it. (Sits back dejectedly.) DOROTHY. (With a little pout.) — I don't care if I have. I don'.t like that thing. Nice men don't wear that kind of things. JIM. How do you know I'm a nice man? DOROTHY. Because if you weren't a nice man, you wouldn't sit here and talk to me. JIM, Oh, I like to talk to nice little girls like you. What is this little girl's name? DOROTHY. Dorothy is my name. JIM. Dorothy. (Looks ahead as if in medita- tion, then to her.) That's a pretty name. I wish I had a little Dorothy like you. DOROTHY. Why, haven't you any little girls? JIM. (Sadly.) No. DOROTHY. No little boys, either? JIM. No, Dorothy; no little girls, and no little boys. I haven't even a home. (Looks away, again, meditating.) DOROTHY. (Looks up into his face, then snuggles closer to him.) Don't be sad. God loves you. God will give yau a home. JIM, CStill looking away.) No, Dorothy; God doesn't love a man like me. Maybe he would if I had done differently. DOROTHY. Yes, He does. God does love you. God loves everybody. What makes you so sad? JIM. I was thinking; that's all. (Looks down at Dorothy.) 1 was thinking- that I might have had a nice little girl like you if I had behaved myself. ('Bows his head and gazes at the floor.) DOROTHY. (Looking at him earnestly.) What do you mean? You're not a toad man. JIM. Oh, yes I am. (iSadly.) 1 had a good home once, and a sweet wife, but 1 left them. That was a long time ago. If I'd been good, I'd be happy now, and maybe I'd have a dear little girl like you to love me. DOROTHY. Are yoa sorry now? JIM. Yes, I'm sorry now. DOROTHY. Why don't you try to find your wife? JIM. No; I tried once, but nobody knew where she was; so I have up hope and quit. DOROTHY. Oh, but you mustn't do that. You'll find her some day. JIM. It won't do any good. If I did find her, she wouldn't have anything to do with me now. I've been a bad man. (Keeps his eyes on the floor. Dorothy looks at him appealing-ly.) DOROTHY. (Trying" to soothe him.) Somebody likes you. I like you. Even if you were a bad man once, you're not bad now. And God loves you. He will help you. To-night, when I say my prayers, I'll ask him to. And I'll ask my mama to pray for you, too. Now don't be sad any more. JIM. (Grasping Dorothy in both arms to his side.) — Oh, you sweet little girl! God bless you! -(Hold position for a few moments.) (Enter Margaret, door lower R. Comes on line with sofa and stands looking at Jim and Dorothy. Jim does not hear her.) DOROlx^Y. (As she sees Margaret.) ^Oh, mama! JIM. (Looks up quickly, recognizing her.) Margaret! (Jumps up from sofa, stepping back a few paces.) MARGARET. (As she recognizes him.) Jim! (Steps back a pace in astonishment.) You here! JIM. (With bowed head.) 1 didn't ^know 1 was in your home. I don't 'belong here. I'm not good enough for you to speak to me now. DOROTHY. (Running up to him and hugging his right arm.) Yes, he is, mama. He's a nice man. The only thing I didn't like a'bout him was (goes and picks up mask) he had this dirty old thing on his face, and I tore it off. He can't have it any more, either. (Goes to fire- place and throws it in, disgustedly.) There! That'll fix that old thing. (Stands by fire and watches Jim.) MARGARET. (Reproachfully.) Jim; can it be that you, my husband, have turned burglar? . JIM. Ever since I left you, I've been up against it. Out of work. Why, I almost starved some- times. I traveled from town to town. I went to where we lived and tried to fin.d you to see if you would forgive me — — ibut no one knew where you were. At last I came here with nothing. I can't find work and I'm destitute. . I made up my mind to turn burglar to-day. Even if I was caught, it would be better than to live the way I have. This was the first house I tried. I climbed in at the window, but she (pointing to Dorothy) she held me. MARG-ARET. Thank God she did, Jim. I'd hate to know that my husband was a burglar. JIM. Is she your little girl? MARGARET. Yes, Jim; she is our little girl. JIM. Ours? Yours and mine? MARGARET. Yes, she's yours and mine. She was born a few months after you left. JIM. And I'm still your husiband? MARGARET, Yes, Jim. I had hoped you would come back some day. JIM. Then you've ^waited for me all these years? MARGARET. Yes, I've waited for you. JIM. (With bowed head.) But I'm not worthy of you now. MARGARET. You can make yourself worthy. JIM. (With arms outstretched.) Then you'll forg-ive me? MARGARET. (Going up to him.) Yes, I'll forgive you. I want you, and Dorothy needs you. JIM. (Clasping Margaret in his arms.) 1 will make myself worthy. DOROTHY. (Running around table and uip to Jim, clap- ping her hands.) Oh, I have a papa! JIM. (Loosens his embrace on Margaret and picks up Dorothy, hugging her.) ^God bless my little girl! Yes, Dorothy; God does love me! CURTAIN. (For curtain call, Jim is seated in leather chair before fire, Margaret seated on arm of chair with her arm around Jim's neck, and Dorothy, on Jim's lap, is going through actions of telling him lots of things.) ♦ o^o ^ Wilbur-Cooper g^^^^^ 1016 K and L