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THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 A Chatham Play 
 
 BY 
 
 CAROL WIGHT 
 
 Cuts by Alice Wight 
 
 Written for the Chatham Branch 
 
 of the American Red Cross 
 
 Dedicated to 
 
 The Chatham Boys and Girls and Chatham Men and Women who have 
 
 collaborated in our local plays for the past few years. 
 
• 
 
 Copyright 1918 
 
 By CAROL WIGHT. 
 
 Chatham, Mais. 
 
 SEP -3 1918 
 ©GI.A501666 
 
 
 i 
 
THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 Jl Chatham Play 
 
 CHARACTERS 
 
 Prologue— THE GODDESS VENUS 
 MIRIAM CABLE ROXANNA CLEAT 
 
 ICHABOD CABLE VASHTI CLEAT 
 
 GABRIEL CABLE IPHIGENIA CLEAT 
 
 FRANCES CABLE CHARLEY CLEAT 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 THE following extract from a forth-coming volume on gene- 
 alogy and Cape Lore will explain the relations of the char- 
 acters in this play. 
 
 "Captain Horsefoot Cable of Horsefoot Harbor, came to our 
 town in the early forties. He was described by his friends as 'a 
 man of bulky and noble bones and with an eye for command.' The 
 charge that he was a Cape Breton pirate or beach-comber is a base 
 slander founded on the Captain's wonderful collection of blood- 
 stained cutlases and ships' pistols and the curious foreign coins 
 with which he was wont to pay his debts. That he died in liquor 
 is a malignant fiction, for liquor is never imported into the Cape 
 in vessels sufficiently capacious to contain a person of his bulk. 
 
 "His eldest son of like name and the father of Gabriel and 
 Ichabod Cable was drafted in the Civil -War, taking part in Sher- 
 man's march to the sea. Owing to some misunderstanding as to 
 his duties, he was suspended for a time, which suspense, brief as 
 it was, brought about his death at the very moment, when spurn- 
 ing an ungrateful earth he was reaching up to heaven. Another 
 son, Agag Cable, is known chiefly as the father of that renowned 
 mariner, Captain Cyrus Cable, who has just fallen fighting in 
 France in his Majesty's Light Horse, leaving by his English wife, 
 Maud, one only child, Frances Cable. Still another son, the Rev- 
 erend Hell-Fire Cable, a worthy disciple of the great Jonathan 
 Edwards, left one daughter, known as Roxanna, who was joined 
 in holy wedlock to the late Captain Naiiwood Cleat of Wicket Hill, 
 their three children being, Vashti, Iphigenia and Charles, who, at 
 this writing, reside with their mother, Roxanna, in the Cleat 
 house on Wicket Hill. A fourth child, Miriam Cable, is still with 
 us. She is the delight of her friends and the despair of her ene- 
 mies and as her charms and graces are acknowledge by all, they 
 need no encomiums here." 
 
PROLOGUE 
 
 VENUS 
 
 The joy of Gods in heaven and men on earth. 
 
 The unseen power that brings all things to birth, 
 
 That blushes in the budding of the rose, 
 
 That lurks wherever life and beauty glows, — 
 
 That power am I, divine, immortal still, 
 
 Venus or Aphrodite as you will. 
 
 A star in heaven, the brightest and the best, 
 
 The evening-star that lays the day to rest, 
 
 The morning-star that ushers in the dawn,— 
 
 All this am I. Of ocean was I born, 
 
 Born of the sea-foam and all are dear to me, 
 
 Who live and labor on the changeful sea. 
 
 The fishing-towns that heed the ocean's call, 
 
 Are loved by me, and Chatham most of all, — 
 
 The sentinel of these United States 
 
 Far in the sea advanced she stands and waits 
 
 With confidence the coming of the foe, 
 
 Arming herself to strike the final blow 
 
 That shall from old-world thralldom set you free 
 
 And once more make you mighty on the sea. 
 
 Where your first Nickerson once stood, now stand 
 
 Those Wireless Towers to flash o'er sea and land 
 
 Some general's nod, some President's word of fate 
 
 On which may hang the future of your state ! 
 
 While through your former peaceful skies now flare 
 
 Swift battling bi-planes, conquerors of the air! 
 
 Down near Stage Wharf three centuries ago 
 
 Where stout Champlain fought with his savage foe, 
 
 How had he stared in wonder had he seen 
 
THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 Emerging from the sea a submarine 
 
 Shaking the water from her steel-clad side? 
 
 All this you shall behold, for Fortune's tide, 
 
 That moulds the world anew before your eyes, 
 
 Already 'round our land begins to rise 
 
 To bear you on to that last victory 
 
 That shall reclaim mankind and make them free, 
 
 What though defeat some waves may backward cast 
 
 The great flood-tide will win the day at last ! 
 
 So far I bare the future to your sight, — 
 
 Now hark and hear why I have come to-night. 
 
 Two bachelors are dwelling in this town 
 
 Who both on me and on my honors frown. 
 
 We gods are jealous of our powers, too, 
 
 If all mankind should do as these men do, 
 
 Empires and states would totter to their fall 
 
 And there would be no human race at all. 
 
 Now 'round this little house I weave my wiles, — 
 
 Not even the god of War resists my smiles, 
 
 Vulcan and Jove confess the power I wield, 
 
 Where gods give way, mere mortals, too, must yield, 
 
 So shall I bring these men beneath my yoke. 
 
 Waylaid, torpedoed ere the morning broke 
 
 Even now a ship is driving on your shore. 
 
 Once on that beach she'll plow the sea no more. 
 
 But there is one on board I'll bring to land 
 
 To aid me in the scheme I have in hand. 
 
 One pitying glance upon the crew she casts 
 
 Who trembling cling to ringbolts, shrouds and masts. 
 
 Then braving fate, — for fortune loves the brave, — 
 
 She dives, a sea-born Nareid, in the wave. 
 
 Don't tremble, she'll not drown, — who trust in me 
 
 Are sacred, safe alike on land and sea. 
 
 Soon you shall view her, yes, and you shall hear, — 
 
 Be kind to her, to me she's very dear. 
 
 Farewell and know alike in good and ill 
 
 Though all unseen, the gods are with you still. 
 
A CHATHAM PLAY 
 
 Still we attend you both at work and play 
 Comfort by night and strengthen through the day. 
 When you shall put your better natures on 
 And all the bad at last is purged and gone, 
 And all the earth becomes the dwelling place 
 Of truth and right you'll see us face to face, 
 And in your streets, your fields, along your shore 
 Walk hand in hand with gods as men of yore. 
 
THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 ACT I 
 Scene 1 — Gabriel, Ichabod 
 
 Gab. What a devil of a storm even for Chatham! Rips the 
 shingles off the roofs, topples down the chimneys, strands the 
 fishing- boats in Stage-Harbor and there's a schooner driven slap 
 on the Back Beach a-poundin' to pieces in the surf! 
 
 Ich. Let it blow! The more wrecks the better! The sea 
 in a storm and a wife in a rage are all of a piece. Keep clear of 
 both water and wives and you'll never be wrecked! 
 
 Gab. Well, Ichabod, if you get wrecked on water, you get 
 the insurance that's coming to you and if you get wrecked by your 
 wife you get all that's comin' to you, so I s'pose you're right. But 
 to do 'em justice, women are very good in their place. I don't 
 object to women, generally speaking. 
 
 Ich. I do. I object to their speaking at all. When a woman 
 starts talkin', freedom starts walkin', and freedom's a rare bird. 
 Fd hate to be always bobbing about the same old mooring. Lord, 
 here come those cousins of ours — The sun set last night in a bank 
 of cloud, — so what can you expect? 
 
 Scene 2 — Enter Vashti and Iphigenia 
 
 Va. Good morning Ichabod, good morning Gabriel, going 
 wrecking ? 
 
 Ich. Not on the sea, but in the dining room. We're going to 
 wreck the breakfast table if that old place-fish of an aunt of ours 
 hasn't got breakfast ready. 
 
 Va. Why, how can you speak so of Aunt Miriam after all 
 she does for you ? Iphigenia and I shall get breakfast for you if 
 Aunt Miriam's out o' sorts. 
 
12 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 Ich. Not if I know it! One woman in the house is bad 
 enough, but three ! I can't stand for it, so cast off and get under 
 way. (Vashti cries). 
 
 Gab. Don't mind him, Vashti, you know Ichabod! 
 
 Iph. Know Ichabod? Yes, we do and the whole Cape knows 
 him, too, for a good-for- nothin', cross-grained, sour-eyed old bach- 
 elor. You, Gabriel, can pass for a man. I ain't over fond of you, 
 but if you grow like that thing, I'd hate you if you are my cousin ! 
 Come, Vashti, let's leave these quahaugs in their mud. (exeunt) . 
 
 Scene 3 — Gabriel, Ichabod 
 
 Ich. As if we didn't know those girls were after our money ! 
 A woman'll scent out money same as the gulls find and follow our 
 boat when we're cleanin' cod on the home trip. 
 
 Gab. How'd they know we're going to inherit any money? 
 
 Ich. How's a gull scent a dead fish? Instinct, Gabriel, in- 
 stinct. 
 
 Gab. I suppose they do smell right sharp. Yes, these girls 
 must have talked it all over. Do you know, I can hear 'em with 
 my mind's eye and they say: It's twenty years since old Captain 
 Cable sailed away and soon nothing's to hinder these boys, — 
 that's you and me, Ichabod, — getting the money he left 'em. 
 
 Ich. Yes, and I can see 'em pricing ribbands and gloves and 
 hats and dresses to be bought with our money. Aunt Miriam, too, 
 will heave us over the side just out o' spite. I tell you, Gabriel, 
 some folks envy the rich, but if they knew our worries and re- 
 sponsibilities, they'd be less inclined to misanthropy. 
 
 Gab. Who's she, Ichabod? She don't live in Chatham. 
 
 Ich. Maybe not, but Vashti and Iphigenia do and to think 
 of sharing my money with a woman makes me shudder. I've been 
 dreamin' of getting this money till I've spent all I did have and 
 I've clean forgot how to work. 
 
 Gab. So have I and I've been readin' about the traveller in 
 a far country and I'm going to give a good account of my money 
 when I get it. 
 
 Ich. That's good religion, that story is. You see, the Lord 
 didn't go pryin' into the private life of his servants. They made 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 13 
 
 a good showin' on the log and the ledger and held to their course. 
 That's my style. I'm naturally religious. If they'd quit passing 
 the plate I'd go to church to-morrow. 
 
 Gab. You needn't brag. I'm as religious as you are. If 
 they'd let me pass the plate, I'd go to church to-day. Howsomever 
 I'm going to follow your one good example and enlist. 
 
 Ich. I hope you weren't waiting for me to enlist first. 
 
 Gab. I bet I was. Vashti and Iphigenia said they'd marry 
 the first one of us to enlist and now your goose is cooked. Much 
 as I love my country there are some sacrifices I couldn't make. I 
 believe it's against the constitution to force a man to marry. It's 
 against my constitution anyhow, — but now you've enlisted first, I 
 can enlist with impurity. 
 
 Ich. Impunity you mean, you don't know English. 
 
 Gab. But I know you and I mean what I said and I'll stick 
 to it. I'm no more afraid of you than I am of Aunt Miriam. She's 
 always correctin' me and I won't take that from anybody. 
 
 Scene 4 — Gabriel, Ichabod, Miriam 
 
 Mir. (from within) Breakfast, breakfast is ready! (Gab. 
 and Ich. sit down and fill their pipes). Breakfast, breakfast is 
 ready ! 
 
 Ich. Well, if that ain't just like a woman ! First these two 
 young ones come a-dingin' away on the outside of the house and 
 then the old one comes a-dingin' away on the inside o' the house 
 till I don't know which I hate the most. 
 
 Gab. H'm ! I hate the old one all right. The young ones are 
 kind o' like flowers. They smell sort o' sweet and ain't half bad 
 to look at, — but now speakin' about submarines — 
 
 Mir. (rushing in) Are you two going to sit there till you 
 take root? I knew you hadn't any hearts inside you, but you at 
 least have stomachs. Don't you know breakfast is ready? 
 
 Ich. It wouldn't be your fault if we didn't know it. They 
 can hear your voice over at Harding's Beach. 
 
 Gab. Come, Aunt Miriam, don't get riled. We'll be there in 
 a minute. Now speaking about submarines, Ichabod — 
 
14 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 Mir. Frizzle your own beef, boil your own coffee, beat up 
 your own biscuit! 
 
 Ich. Well, if we did we wouldn't make such a din about it. 
 
 Mir. I've made my last din and my last dinner as well for 
 you two lazy louts! 
 
 Gab. I was going to say, Ichabod, if the government would 
 follow my advice, they'd put a bell on the Southwest Buoy and if 
 a hostile submarine — 
 
 Mir. Bell on the Southwest Buoy! You can't even hear a 
 breakfast bell and if a submarine shot a torpedo under your old 
 keels, it wouldn't blow enough sense into you to eat what's set 
 before you. Now both of you, weigh my words well, — they are 
 the last I shall utter. 
 
 Ich. There's some comfort in that ! 
 
 Gab. Maybe, but when an engine stops thumpin' all of a 
 sudden, you're lonesome, you're so used to the bangin'! 
 
 Mir. I'll bang you all right! Now listen. You haven't got 
 Captain Cable's money yet and may never get it. This house is 
 mine. You can't get that till I die anyhow and I'm not going to 
 die of a broken heart on account of you. I've cooked your dinners 
 and washed your clothes for a shoal of thankless years and hoped 
 for better things. Look at your father, your grand-father, your 
 •great-grand-father, four, six, ten children respectively and you, 
 how many children have you got respectively? 
 
 Ich. Respectably? Why, none to speak of, Aunty. 
 
 Gab. Say Aunt Miriam, what are you a headin' for? 
 
 Mir. This. You've got to keep the family a-goin' and not 
 let the name of Cable ravel out like the last strand of a rotten rope. 
 You've got to marry and if you don't marry, I'll put you out o' 
 doors and I'll do it to-day! 
 
 Ich. If you do that, we'll live in the scallop shanty. 
 
 Mir. You can't, it's bewitched. 
 
 Ich. Do you really mean it, Aunty? 
 
 Mir. I certainly do. 
 
 Ich. But we don't know how to act with women. 
 
 Mir. Nobody needs rise from the dead to tell me that. 
 Didn't you insult your cousins just now and Vashti offering to 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 15 
 
 cook your breakfast and she a Red Cross nurse, too, and both as 
 tine girls as any in Chatham! You'll start courtin' today and 
 you'll court these two girls and you'll start now. 
 
 Ich. You'll have to crank me, Aunty, I'm no self-starter. 
 
 Mir. You're a crank all right! but marriage '11 cure you. 
 
 Gab. Marriage '11 pickle us, you mean, and it's a pretty sour 
 pickle. It sets my teeth on edge. Me married ? Good Lord. 
 
 Mir. Yes, it's all arranged in my mind. As soon as the day 
 is fixed I'll fix your clothes. No more nails for suspender buttons ! 
 Nothing shall be forgotten. I'll get the two cribs out of the loft 
 and the two baby carriages out of the barn and paint 'em bright 
 red. 
 
 Gab. That speech ought to paint you bright red! 
 
 Ich. Cribs? Baby carriages? 
 
 Mir. Yes, cribs and baby carriages ! You ain't going to hang 
 your children up in trees like the South Sea Islanders are you? 
 
 Ich. I'll hang myself in a tree. I'll go over to the sail-loft 
 and get a pound of rope now and they can collect the bill from my 
 estate. 
 
 Gab. Get two pounds, Ichabod and charge one to me. I'll 
 dance in the air before I'll dance a child. 
 
 Mir. Talk as you like, you'll do what I like just the same. 
 What's more I'll not only put you out of the house, but if you 
 don't marry and bring your wives home to-day I'll marry the first 
 man that comes off that wreck. 
 
 Gab. If he hears you say that he'll stick to the ship all right, 
 but we're a-goin' to get under way. (They start to go). 
 
 Mir. Where you going? 
 
 Gab. We're going to heaven, I hope. 
 
 Mir. What you going to do in heaven? 
 
 Ich. We don't know, Aunty, but in heaven there is neither 
 marrying nor giving in marriage, (exeunt). 
 
 Scene 5 — Miriam, Roxanna 
 
 Rox. (entering) How the wind blows. It chills my very 
 heart. 
 
16 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 Mir. Why, Roxanna, good morning! 
 
 Rox. Good morning, Miriam — that is, if a morning like this 
 is good to anybody. 
 
 Mir. What's the matter, Roxanna, anybody drowned in the 
 wreck? 
 
 Rox. Yes, all hands. They're lying out there on the beach 
 covered over with a sail. I hate the sea, it seems so hungry for 
 men's lives. 
 
 Mir. Well, Roxanna, we must all die sooner or later, and we 
 never can face death better than when we are doing our duty. 
 Is there anything else that troubles you? 
 
 Rox. Why, I went yesterday to see the boys off for camp. 
 
 Mir. Well, you haven't any children in the draft. 
 
 Rox. No, my boy volunteered for the aviation corps, but 
 when I think of the other mothers and fathers — 
 
 Mir. Well, what then? 
 
 Rox. WTiy, I feel as if my heart would break. I've known 
 all these boys. I've seen 'em grow up like the flowers in a gar^ 
 den, and even if it wasn't my garden they are nearer to me and 
 dearer to me than I knew. I didn't dream how much I cared for them. 
 
 Mir. Quit your dreamin' and show how much you care for 
 'em. We can help fit 'em out. That's one of the things the Red 
 Cross is doing. We can knit for 'em, we can sew for 'em and we 
 can look out for those they leave behind. And you and I can stop 
 scrapping with one another — at least while the war lasts. We 
 must have harmony in the country. When the war's over we can 
 revive old grudges and fall to again ! 
 
 Rox. You have no children, Miriam. You can never feel 
 as the parents who are left behind feel. There are joys in this 
 world that cannot be shared and there are sorrows that must 
 be borne alone. Oh, Miriam, if I could only make you understand 
 it as I understand it. It may be idle, but I'll try. 
 
 Air — "My Heart Is Sore With Sorrow." 
 
 I hear the billows falling 
 
 Along the Chatham sands. 
 I hear the bugle calling 
 
 My boy to foreign lands. 
 
A CHATHAM PLAY 
 
 Now comes the dread tomorrow 
 When he and I must part, 
 
 When I must smile at sorrow' 
 And hide it in my heart. 
 
 I v/onder, oh I wonder 
 
 If far across the sea 
 Amid the battle's thunder 
 
 My boy now thinks of me. 
 
 I wonder if love lingers 
 
 Beyond our little day, 
 Or through life's failing fingers 
 
 Like sand it seeps away. 
 
 But I hear the bugle calling, 
 
 And bow, and fold my hands- 
 Through the darkness round me falling 
 God sees and understands. 
 
 17 
 
INTERLUDE 
 
 THE FLOWERS OF FOAM 
 
 Air — Those Evening Bells. 
 
 THE flowers that blossom on the sea, 
 The Flowers of Foam, how dear to me! 
 Far over Chatham shoal and shore 
 Still shall they bloom forever more. 
 
 When other flowers are dead and gone, 
 The Flowers of Foam shall still bloom on — 
 Beyond the ocean now I roam, 
 Farewell, farewell, my Chatham home! 
 
 The bubble breaks, the foam decays, 
 But still the snow-white blossom stays. 
 So may our lives endure sublime 
 Upon the ocean of Ail-Time. 
 
 One still arise as one shall fall, 
 All helping each, each helping all — 
 How dear to me my Chatham home, 
 Where first I saw the Flowers of Foam. 
 
ACT II 
 
 Scene 1— Frances, just out of the ocean 
 
 Unless I dreamed I heard some sailor singing, 
 
 It could not be the roaring of the sea, 
 
 For there's no music in these hungry waves 
 
 To those that battle for their lives and crawl 
 
 Ship-wrecked upon the beach as I do now. 
 
 He sang of Chatham whither I am bound. 
 
 I know the air — I crooned it as a child 
 
 To other words. It might have been my home, 
 
 Chatham, in England that he sang of — well, 
 
 I'm one half Yankee, for my father hailed 
 
 From Chatham, Massachusetts, but he fell 
 
 Fighting in France and when the Zeppelins killed 
 
 My mother and I was left alone, I sailed 
 
 Across the sea to find this Chatham Town 
 
 And father's people as he wished, for I 
 
 Became a burden to my mother's folk, 
 
 Ruined by the war and helpless as myself. 
 
 Torpedoed here close on the self-same shoals 
 
 My father fished, our vessel beached, I ask 
 
 What heaven has still in store for me. "Tis hard 
 
 To fling oneself upon the charity 
 
 Of kith and kin. If I could only prove 
 
 My relatives, find if they've hearts that feel 
 
 For others' want, for anguish not their own. 
 
 A ship-wrecked sailor might attempt the task. 
 
 O, would some god would change me to a man, 
 
 Through this world's waves I'd buffet me a path 
 
 That to my woman's heart is now denied ! 
 
 But bless me, what a dainty house is here. 
 
 Oilers and boots ! Why, these are just the thing — 
 
 God always helps us when we help ourselves — 
 
 An old sou'-wester too. I'll be a man ! 
 
22 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 A little chicken fits a little egg, 
 
 A little stocking fits a little leg. 
 
 A little bonnet fits a little head, 
 
 A little body fits a little bed. 
 This little house to which by chance I've strayed 
 May quite fit out a little ship- wrecked maid. (Goes in). 
 
 Scene 2 — Iphigenia, Vashti 
 
 Vash. Don't you think you're a little hard on Cousin Ich- 
 abod? You should reason with him. 
 
 Iphi. Reason with him ! I'd reason with him with a club ! 
 That's the only argument he'll understand. There's some hope 
 of Gabriel if only he wasn't under the influence of that old bunch 
 of beach-grass of an Ichabod, he might dance, he might flirt, he 
 might (smacks her lips) do all a man should do. I hate Ichabod — 
 he's a-spoilin' Gabriel. Why, even his girl threw him over. 
 
 Vash. H'm! Gabriel'd spoil as easy as a clam in the sun. 
 I like Ichabod. He's a good fisherman and jilted or not, he could 
 be married any time he wished it! 
 
 Iphi. Wish he'd ask me to marry him, wouldn't I jilt him — 
 I'd jilt him and jolt him off Stage Wharf on a winter's night. 
 Charley'll fix him some day or he's no brother of mine. Why, 
 here's Charley now, coming out of the Scallop Shanty. Hello, 
 Charley! 0, heavens, it isn't Charley, who is it? (Frances in 
 oilers, etc., comes out of Shanty). 
 
 Scene 3 — Vashti, Iphigenia, Frances 
 
 Fran. Hello, girls! 
 
 Vash. Beg your pardon, we thought you were our brother. 
 
 Fran. Glad to be taken into the family so soon, but I never 
 could be your brother. 
 
 Iphi. Why not? Our brother's an aviator over at Nicker- 
 son's Neck. 
 
 Fran. Well, I ain't that kind, that's all. 
 
 Iphi. You're not our kind, you conceited little prig, so you're 
 not our kind ! 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 23 
 
 Fran. I didn't say that. I said I never could be your brother, 
 that I wasn't that kind ! 
 
 Vash. Don't get angry, Iphigenia. He means that he isn't 
 as kind as Charley, — isn't that what you mean? 
 
 Fran. Why, yes — yes — that is what I mean. Nobody is as 
 kind as Charley, now are they? 
 
 Iphi. O you come off the perch, you're too fly ! 
 
 Fran. Very true and you're to fly also and with me — unless 
 you prefer to keep crawling on the ground. We can come off our 
 perch together, for you see, I'm an officer in the Aviation Corps. 
 
 Both. An officer in the Aviation Corps ! What's your name ? 
 
 Fran. Captain Francis, as ever at your service. 
 
 Iphi. Pshaw, you're no bigger than we are ! 
 
 Fran. Well, you know you have to be very light to fly ! 
 
 Both. Of course you do, we never thought of that ! 
 
 Fran. Say, girls, where can I board around here? I was 
 thinking of bunking in that Scallop Shanty to help save for the 
 war. One of the reasons I took to flying was to keep up with the 
 cost of high living. 
 
 Vash. There might be a great deal of happiness in a Scallop 
 Shanty. (Sighs) . 
 
 Fran. That's just what the song about the Scallop Shanty 
 says. I learned it from my father.— You see though I was born 
 in Chatham, I don't visit here very often. 
 
 Vash. O, please sing it to us, that's a good captain ! 
 
 Fran. H'm! We soldiers never refuse the ladies, but my 
 voice is a little high. 
 
 Iphi. I suppose that comes from being constantly up in the 
 
 air. 
 
 Fran. Well, I'm up on the air by this time and I'm up on the 
 
 words, too. 
 
 DOWN BY THE SHORE 
 
 Air — Long, Long Ago. 
 Sweet the days we fished together 
 
 Down by the shore, 
 Fished and scalloped in all weather 
 
 Down by the shore. 
 
24 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 In our Scallop Shanty, smoking, 
 O'er our troubles laughing, joking 
 While the scallops stood a-soaking 
 Down by the shore. 
 
 In our Scallop Shanty dreaming, 
 
 Down by the shore, 
 Listening to the gulls a-screaming 
 
 Down by the shore. 
 To the ropes and sails a-flapping 
 To the waves that come a-lapping 
 On our shanty bulkhead slapping 
 
 Down by the shore. 
 
 Soft the tides come ebbing, flowing 
 
 Down by the shore. 
 So our lives keep coming, going, 
 
 Down by the shore. 
 If a pleasure comes, we take it, 
 If a dollar comes, we rake it, 
 Life is what you choose to make it 
 
 Down by the shore. 
 
 Iphi. No one but a Chatham man made that song. I'll bet 
 the rascal soaked scallops in his day all right. 
 
 Fran. I was born, as I said, in Chatham, but eighteen years 
 have come and gone and I haven't seen this town in all that 
 time, so tell me, why do they soak the scallops? The song says 
 ihey do, but I never knew why. 
 
 Iphi. Why, they soak 'em so they can soak the public. You 
 fill a bucket three quarters full of scallops and the rest water and 
 by the time they reach Boston your bucket is full of scallops. 
 
 Fran. Mercy me, but ain't they prolific! 
 
 Iphi. Pro-fiddlesticks! They swell up with the water same 
 as the stock these city fellows sell our fishermen, so we get back 
 at them once in a while, but your song makes me want to toss a 
 dredge myself. I'd like to do something for you in return. 
 
 Va.sh. Iphigenia, I'll go right up to the house and tell 
 mother if you talk that way. 
 
 Iphi. Don't worry — your lips are safe enough. But, Cap- 
 tain, you won't misunderstand me even if she did. Is there noth- 
 ing I can do in return? 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 25 
 
 Fran. Yes, there is. Tell me where I can find Captain Ca- 
 ble's folks and do they keep boarders? 
 
 Vash. Why, Captain Cable was our first cousin once re- 
 moved and Aunt Miriam Cable — she's the aunt of Captain Cable 
 as was lost at sea — she takes boarders but — 
 
 Fran. But what? 
 
 Iphi. I like you, Captain, and I'll be frank with you. If you 
 want good food and a good home with plain old-fashioned folks, 
 try our mother, Roxanna Cleat. If you want amusement and ex- 
 citement, try Miriam Cable. She's the wild rose of this town 
 and the last word in fragrance and fun. 
 
 Fran. I grant you her social graces, but can she cook, is 
 she capable? 
 
 Iphi. Why, some folks go so far as to say she's capable of 
 anything — but judge for yourself, for here she comes bearing 
 down upon us like a schooner with a bone in its mouth. 
 
 Fran. (Aside) I'll pick that bone with her before I'm 
 many hours older, for if I'm to live here I've got to get the whip- 
 hand on my female relatives and I might as well start in now. 
 (enter Miriam). 
 
 Sce'ne 4 — Miriam, Frances, Iphigenia, Vashti 
 Mir. What's all this mean, girls, who's your friend? 
 Iphi. Aunt Miriam, allow me to present Captain Francis 
 of the Aviation Corps, formerly of Chatham. Perhaps you can 
 board him? 
 
 Mir. Charmed to do so. Captain. Now, girls, run right 
 along and leave the Captain and me alone, these adieus are out of 
 place and quite unnecessary. (She pushes them out and mean- 
 while Gabriel steals into shanty). 
 
 Scene 5 — Francis, Miriam. 
 
 Fran. (Aside). There's trouble in the air now. She's 
 neither a bi-plane, nor a tri-plane. She's too good-looking to be 
 plain, but whatever she is I'll have to steer her. (Aloud) Ahem, 
 you are — ahem — 
 
 Mir. No, not a him, just a her and I always get right down 
 to business. The best in my house is yours! 
 
26 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 Fran. I'm simply overjoyed to know that, for there can be 
 nothing better in your house than its mistress. 
 
 Mir. Very neatly turned, young man. I am glad you're so 
 easily suited. 
 
 Fran. On the contrary I am most particular and not easily 
 suited, but I would like to press my suit, have you any irons heat- 
 ing? 
 
 Mir. I always have several irons in the fire. 
 
 Fran. And are very like iron yourself, for as Homer says, 
 ''iron draws a man after it," and I have never been drawn to any 
 one as I have to you. 
 
 Mir. Let me draw you still nearer, you'll find I'm a pretty 
 good artist, and I can board you and promise you'll never get 
 bored. I'll charge you fifty dollars a week, meals and lodging ex- 
 tra. 
 
 Fran. That's a fair price as prices go at fairs. I can pay 
 fifty dollars as easily as I can pay fifty cents. What can I do till 
 the Secretary of War sends me my flying machine ? 
 
 Mir. I have it. Now this is confidential. My two nephews 
 are going to court their cousins, the girls you just met. Their 
 mother objects to my nephews. When you meet them you won't 
 wonder why. Now you can help them by going over to distract 
 her. She's just my age, just the age a woman loves to be dis- 
 tracted, and you military men are such rogues ! (Pokes him) . 
 
 Fran. H'm ! How shall I go about it ? Suppose I chuck her 
 under the chin like this? 
 
 Mir. Well, Well, well, — that does very well, that is, well for 
 a beginning. 
 
 Fran. You'll drown yourself in all those wells and I'll have 
 to hold you up above the water like this. (Puts arm 'round her). 
 Like this? h'm? 
 
 Mir. Of course I like it, you dear boy, that's perfectly de- 
 lightful, but I assure you Roxanna, — she's the woman you're going 
 to distract, — is a well-manned fortification. She must be taken 
 by storm. 
 
 Fran. Suppose I practice a little deceit on her, a little strat- 
 egem of War, as the French say, a little Ruse de Guerre? 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 27 
 
 Mir. Why, a little "rustic air" might beguile her, she's great 
 on singing, Roxanna is. 
 
 Fran. All right. I'll tell her: "Now hold your hands high 
 over your head and shut both eyes and listen." Suppose we try 
 it, Miss Cable? 
 
 Mir. Like this ? Go ahead with your "rustic air." I'm listen- 
 ing. My eyes are shut. Is this right ? 
 
 Fran. (Kissing her) Just perfect! 
 
 Mir. O please sing that "rustic air" again, Captain Francis. 
 
 Fran. As often as you like (kisses her. A groan from the 
 shanty) . 
 
 Mir. My soul and body. Quick, run over to Roxanna's. But 
 do be careful. Don't distract her too much. She's very nervous. 
 It might kill her! Another time (looks anxiously at Shanty as 
 another groan is heard) you can practice with ME a little more 
 so you won't frighten HER. 
 
 Fran. How do I get to her? 
 
 Mir. Turn to your right at that corner. Cross the bridge. 
 Don't fall into the gully and when you get to the head of the Mill 
 Pond ask for Charley, — Roxanna's his mother, — he'll direct you, 
 and, oh, do be careful of your dear self, for I'm just dying to see 
 you fly. 
 
 Fran. Don't worry. I bear a charmed life. (Exit) . 
 
 Scene 6. — Miriam. 
 
 Mir. (Looking into Shanty) I must be mistaken. I guess 
 it's only the wind, but they always did claim that Scallop Shanty 
 was bewitched. He said he bears a charmed life. He might bear 
 a charming wife, too. I guess I'll go after him. Roxanna always 
 was deceitful. She might trifle with him. She might actually 
 kiss him. It's astounding the familiarities some women will per- 
 mit. Yes, I guess I'll go and look after him. He's very young. 
 He needs a mother's care. I never did trust that Roxanna and I 
 never will, no never! (Exit hurriedly). 
 
INTERLUDE 
 
 Air— "The Pilot." 
 
 soldier marching to the wars, 
 
 What means the Flag to you. 
 Those scarlet stripes, those silver stars 
 
 That light that field of blue ? 
 "Farewell," the soldier cried, "farewell," 
 
 Where'er that Flag shall rise, 
 Tho' tossing o'er the fires of hell, 
 
 I'll follow where it flies. 
 
 Those stars were set by God's own hand 
 
 In that blue field when rang 
 The voice of Freedom o'er this land 
 
 And the stars of morning sang. 
 Those stripes denote their blood, who died 
 
 Our victory in their eyes — 
 Whatever fate their flag betide, 
 
 I'll follow where it flies. 
 
 That no man gains except he give, 
 
 Yon star-lit banner shows. 
 To die for others is to live, 
 
 As every soldier knows. 
 Farewell, I hear my country call, 
 
 Far, far across the skies 
 God's Flag is floating over all, 
 
 I'll follow where it flies! 
 
ACT III. 
 
 Scene 1 — Vashti and Charley 
 
 Cha. Why, Vashti, what are you up to now? 
 
 Va. Something new for me, Charley, I was opening scallops 
 for Ichabod. 
 
 Cha. Stuff and nonsense — you can't open a scallop! 
 
 Va. Can't I though? Look at that tub! 
 
 Cha. You're foolin' me! Come, how do you do it? 
 
 Va. Why, you take the scallop in your left hand, dark side 
 up. Shove in your knife, cut the eye loose at the top, snip off th^ 
 shell, scoop out the rim, flip the eye into the tub and there you 
 are. 
 
 Cha. Can't Ichabod open his own scallops? 
 
 Va. Yes, but he's been under the weather today, didn't fin- 
 ish 'em all, so I just gave him a lift. He'll never know it — think 
 he did it himself. 
 
 Cha. Vashti, you're always doing a good turn to somebody. 
 I think Ichabod would be less absent-minded if he had enough 
 presence of mind to know the worth of the nicest girl in Chatham. 
 
 Va. None o' that, Charley, we can steer our own course with- 
 out crowding the other fellow onto the flat. But did you get the 
 yarn and the sheeting for the Red Cross ? 
 
 Cha. Yes, Vashti, here it is. I wonder if my sweater and 
 helmet are coming out of that? 
 
 Va. Yes, if you like. I'll knit 'em for you right away. 
 
 Cha. You girls sometimes slip your pictures into the kits 
 you send the boys at the front. Would you mind letting me have 
 your picture before I go? 
 
 Va. Not at all, Charley, but why do you want your sister's 
 picture ? 
 
 Cha. All the boys have girls' pictures except me and I don't 
 care enough for any of the girls to really want their pictures. 
 Then I'm awfully proud of my little sister and I'd like to show 
 these foreign chaps the likeness of the nicest Yankee girl I know, 
 iust to let 'em see the finest grade of goods that the United States 
 
32 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 can produce. Then I'll show it to Ichabod and tell him he couldn't 
 have it. 
 
 Va. Have you no weightier reason, Charley? 
 
 Cha. Yes, Vashti, if I had that picture I could fight better, 
 I could live better and I could die better. 
 
 Va. You shall have it, Charley, and when the right girl 
 comes along she'll make short work of it. It is yours till then, 
 but only on condition you quit teasing Ichabod. 
 
 Cha. It's only on your account. You remember I licked 
 that summer beau of yours just 'cause he was saucy to you and 
 as for Ichabod — 
 
 Va. 0, drop it, Charley. Save your lickings for the enemy 
 And when you do look at my picture let it remind you that there 
 are thousands of women all over the United States, working un- 
 der the banner of the Red Cross, just as the women here in Chat- 
 ham. Think too of the good Swiss doctor and his friend who 
 founded this organization, which cares not for our wounded alone, 
 but the enemy wounded as well and who took its emblem from 
 the Swiss Flag, merely reversing the colors. For as God makes 
 his sun to shine on the just and on the unjust, so does the Red 
 Cross, which is the minister of God's mercy, bring help and suc- 
 cor to the wounded on the field of battle, making no distinction 
 between friend and foe. We are all human and all humanity, 
 however wrong, however mistaken, should be redeemed by us, 
 should be healed by us and only so can it be led upwards to better 
 things. 
 
 Cha. Vashti, if everybody were like you, there would be 
 no wars. Now I'll open a mess of scallops for supper and then 
 follow you up to the house with the wool and the sheeting. 
 
 Va. Don't be long, Charley, and I'll start supper right away, 
 (exit). 
 
 Scene 2 — Charley, Frances. 
 
 Fran. So your name's Charley. I've been across the MfH 
 Pend huntin' you up. Tell me, where can I find Roxanna? 
 Char. Why, you can always find her in good company. 
 Fran. What if she's alone? 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 33 
 
 Char. Why, then she's in the best o' company. 
 
 Fran. Can't you direct me better? 
 
 Char. Just keep a-goin'. There's no better person to follow 
 than Roxanna, in all Chatham ! 
 
 Fran. What sort of a place is Chatham? 
 
 Char. Very much like yourself. 
 
 Fran. How so? 
 
 Cha. If you're pleasant and good-natured, you'll find the 
 town the same. Tell me what you think of Chatham and I'll tell 
 you what you are. And if you're sour and fault-finding you'll find 
 the town the same, for we only find in the world what we put 
 there, nothing more. 
 
 Fran. I've come to a good harbor then and I'll sail straight 
 ahead till I find Roxanna. 
 
 Char. Well, Roxanna will soon be here in her dory. She's 
 my mother and if you're really in a hurry, why, as our courses 
 lie the same, we'll be good shipmates and sail off together. 
 (Exeunt). 
 
 Scene 3. — Ichabod and Gabriel. 
 
 Ich. So you think Aunt Miriam is in earnest and will really 
 get married and put us out of the house? 
 
 Gab. I don't think so. I know it. 
 
 Ich. "He that increaseth knowledge, increaseth sorrow." 
 Old Solomon was right, but are you really sure? 
 
 Gab. Ichabod, did you never hear the sound a calf makes 
 with its mouth when finishing the pail? 
 
 Ich. Why yes, I thought I heard it just now. 
 
 Gab. Any calves round here, Ichabod? 
 
 Ich. (Looking at audience) H'm — no! 
 
 Gab. Well, Aunt Miriam has three calves now! 
 
 Ich. You don't mean it. I want to know! 
 
 Gab. I'll enlighten you. She has two calves that she stomps 
 on and romps on. They're cow calves, and she has one calf that 
 she's saft on and daft on and that's a bull calf and what you heard 
 and I heard was her a-kissin' of that calf just now. I seen 'em 
 from the Scallop Shanty and we're both lost men. 
 
34 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 Ich. What's to be done? I wouldn't want to kill her and I 
 don't wish her to die, but I'd love her mother more if she'd never 
 had her. 
 
 Gab. Well, she did have her. I suppose we've got to get 
 married or clear out and go to sea. 
 
 Ich. I don't want to go to sea ! 
 
 Gab. Neither do I. Once we're married we'll feel different. 
 
 Ich. Well, which side of the house are you going to live on, 
 Gabriel? 
 
 Gab. Same side as you, I reckon. 
 
 Ich. Won't there be trouble then in our families? 
 
 Gab. Likely enough, — there's trouble in most families. 
 
 Ich. And yet you'll court trouble by — 
 
 Gab. Don't use that word "court," Ichabod. I don't like to 
 court. 
 
 Ich. And yet you'll call down trouble by — 
 
 Gab. Don't use that word either, I don't like to be called 
 down. 
 
 Ich. And yet you'll cause trouble by living on the same side 
 of the house as me. 
 
 Gab. Yes. If these two women live on the inside of the 
 house, you and I'll have to live on the outside. I see no way round 
 it. 
 
 Ich. That sounds rational, but I don't know how to court a 
 woman. 
 
 Gab. That's not important. If she wants you, she'll get you, 
 courting or no courting. If she don't want you, you won't get her 
 with any amount of courting. 
 
 Ich. That sounds rational, but how'll we go about it. I think 
 I'd sooner die, but maybe, Gabriel, if one of us gets married Aunt 
 Miriam '11 let the other off. Then, too, our children might dis- 
 grace us and bring our grey hairs to sheer destruction. 
 
 Gab. Guess I'll stick to the old barber. You go ahead and 
 get married. I'll remain single. You're older than I am. It'll 
 lengthen your life considerable. 
 
 Ich. My life won't be any longer for being married. 
 
 Gab. No, but it will seem longer, all right. 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 35 
 
 Ich. That sounds rational. Gabriel, you're my only broth- 
 er, you're my favorite brother! How I would rejoice to see you 
 all fixed in your cozy little home. There you are a-sitting by the 
 stove. There's your wife, a-frying the bacon with one hand and 
 a-nussin' the baby with the other. 
 
 Gab. Child livin' from hand to mouth all right, — but they 
 don't usually nuss 'em with their hands ! 
 
 Ich. Now don't spoil a pretty picture. You've no sentiments. 
 There you are a-sittin by your stove. There's your wife a-nussin' 
 the bacon with one hand and a-fryin' the baby with the other — 
 
 Gab. How'm I going to keep up the family name if the wife 
 fries the babies as fast as she has 'em ! 
 
 Ich. O, that'll come out all right, Gabriel. I'll help you in 
 every way I can. Only get married. There's nothing like it. Do 
 get married and maybe Aunt Miriam '11 let me off. 
 
 Gab. Get married yourself if you like it so much. I can see 
 you with the Adam's apple of my eye all fixed in that garden of 
 Eden of a cozy little home. There you are a sittin' on the stove 
 and the stove gettin' hotter every minute. There's your wife 
 a-covering your eye-lashes with the one hand and a-hovering 
 where your cash is with the other. And there stand all your little 
 friskers a-pullin' at your whiskers, like the pipes in the church 
 organ, each shorter than the other and the shorter the shriller 
 the note. 
 
 Ich, Lord drown me! the note's been played and must be 
 payed. Our cousins are both young. That's one good thing. You 
 take your pick. 
 
 Gab. I'd like to take my shovel, too, and dig a grave and 
 bury myself, — but I'll take Vashti. I don't like her as well as I do 
 Iphigenia, but she won't live as long. Iphigenia '11 live forever. 
 You can take Iphigenia. 
 
 Ich. Good Lord ! "Till death do us part !" That means me ! 
 I can see 'em embalming me already. In fact I feel quite laid out. 
 But let's go, for there's Roxanna and in my new dory, too. Why 
 can't she use her own? We'll soon have nuthin' left we can call 
 cur own except our graves and they'll even come there and slop 
 
36 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 'em all up with their tears! Even in the grave they can't let a 
 body be! 
 
 Gab. Ichabod, there's no need of carrying on so before you're 
 married and there's no use after you're married. If you'd lived a 
 good life and were a man like ME, you'd resign yourself to the joys 
 of matrimony, bow to stern necessity — 
 
 Ich. Bow to stern nuthin! That's a new way o' sailing. A 
 good life! A man like you! When you're married, you'll be like 
 the man from S'mother Town. 
 
 Gab. The man from S'mother Town ? I never heard of him. 
 
 Ich. Well then, it's time you did. 
 
 There lived a man in S'mother Town, 
 
 His wife she loved him so, 
 She helped him open scallops, 
 
 She helped the hay to mow. 
 
 She helped him pull his sea-boots off, 
 *' She helped him into bed, 
 
 She always helped him living 
 
 And she would have helped him dead. 
 
 But still the more she did for him 
 
 The less he thought of her, 
 Ungrateful as an old Tom Cat 
 He wouldn't even purr. 
 
 So weary of her loving ways, 
 
 He took to cruising round 
 To find another lassie 
 
 And another lass he found. 
 
 Her ears were like a rabbit's ears, 
 
 Her eyes both cocked and walled, 
 Her shock of hair was shocking 
 
 For beneath it she was bald. 
 
 Since love is blind he never saw 
 
 One single fault she had, 
 He took the old spring fever 
 
 And he took to springin' bad. 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 37 
 
 He asked her out to sail the sea, 
 The Oyster Pond to view, 
 
 And to show he wore the trousers 
 He made his wife go, too. 
 
 He tried to come about but jibed, — 
 The boat went heeling o'er. — 
 
 His wife, she grabbed his shirt-tail 
 And towed him to the shore. 
 
 But t'other gal got water-logged 
 And slowly soaked apart, — 
 
 Away her wig went sailing 
 And after it her heart. 
 
 Her head and arms were made of cork, 
 
 Her bust a bale of hay, 
 While her legs were made of rubber 
 
 And they bobbed about the bay. 
 
 He gazed upon the sea-soaked mess 
 There, stranded in the mud, 
 
 The flotsam and the jetsam 
 
 He'd thought were flesh and blood. 
 
 And then he knelt before his wife 
 Ashamed her eyes to meet, 
 
 But she never once reproached him 
 As she helped him to his feet. 
 
 She helped him lead a decent life, 
 She helped him do the right, — 
 
 She always loved to help him, 
 
 So she helped him here to-aighti 
 
38 
 
 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 39 
 
 INTERLUDE 
 
 THE OLD MILL 
 
 Air— The Mill. 
 
 'Twas Sunday, the mill was running, 
 
 We talked as we sat on the ground 
 
 And gazed at the flying shadows 
 
 And watched those arms go round. 
 
 We talked, of course, of the weather, 
 We talked till the stars came out, 
 
 We talked just to be together, 
 
 Of things we cared nothing about. 
 
 Till the darkness followed the twi-light 
 And I only could hear one sound 
 
 And that was my own heart beating 
 As I felt those arms go 'round. 
 
 They drew me nearer and nearer, 
 And everything grew so still, 
 
 I could hear two hearts a-beating 
 And I blessed the dear old mill. 
 
 For the Mill suggested the use of arms 
 As it gazed on the Ocean's waste, 
 
 Which naturally led to the natural thought 
 That lips were meant to taste. 
 
 And some who are here this evening 
 Have tasted the joy I found, 
 
 In losing my heart on the Old Mill Hill 
 And feeling those arms go round. 
 
ACT IIII. 
 
 Scene 1 — Charley 
 
 Char. There's something twisted in this town o' Chatham, 
 There's something wrong about this officer, — 
 I know the patch I put on my own coat, — 
 Why should he wear my slicker ? Then he came 
 A picking wild-flowers by the road just like 
 My sisters. If he is a man, he is 
 A devilish queer one, — but I'll find him out 
 So craftily she never shall suspect 
 That I suspect her sex, for time will tell, — 
 Yes, time will prove her woman in the end. 
 Sail by and large, she'll beach herself at last. 
 (Turns quickly as Frances enters). 
 
 Scene 2 — Charley, Frances. 
 
 It won't be long, — we'll soon find mother now. 
 
 Yes, there's her Dory swinging by the shore. 
 
 So, Captain, she must be somewhere hereabouts. 
 
 Couldn't I take your message? 
 Fran. Hardly, — no. 
 
 I've something she must have from my own mouth. 
 
 We soldiers must be careful of our tongues, 
 
 Were you a girl, I'd write it on your lips. 
 Char. Thank God I'm not a girl — 
 Fran. You spiteful thing! 
 
 I mean — that is — well, — why do you thank God 
 
 You're not a girl? 
 Char. Because I do. Good Lord! 
 
 A bunch of frizzes and a turned up nose 
 
 Like sister Vashti's or a puffed out shape 
 
 All clumps and bumps like Iphigenia's, — Lord! 
 
 I'd sooner be a cod-fish on a hook 
 
 Than be a girl, at least he's in the swim. 
 
 And so you're in the Aviation Corps. 
 
42 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 Fran. Why, yes. I often go up in the air. 
 
 Some day, perhaps, I'll fly away with you. 
 
 Charj I've joined the Aviation Corps myself. 
 Come, sir, forget that you're an officer 
 And tell a raw recruit just what it's like. 
 
 (They sit down side by side and Ichabod keeps peeping 
 out of Shanty.) 
 
 Fran. First thing, you've got to have your wits about you. 
 Then never lose your balance. Fling both arms 
 Around your pilot. I'm your pilot now! 
 Call that a grip? You'll tumble down to earth. 
 To stay in heaven you'll need a firmer hold. 
 
 Char. That tight enough, or shall I crush your ribs? 
 
 Fran. That's very good, yes, that will almost do. 
 That, if you please, is lesson Number One. 
 
 Char. Well, if I please as much as I am pleased, 
 I'd like to tackle lesson Number Two, 
 For there's a hint in One of joy in Two. 
 
 Fran. You shall, don't hurry, everything in time, 
 First I'll adjust my stays, — 
 
 Char. Your stays! Good Lord, 
 
 You mean to say you're wearing — 
 
 Fran. No, I'm not! 
 
 Little enough you know o' flying machines! 
 A flying machine, a woman and a ship 
 Have this in common — they "go about in stays." 
 O' course it's known to all but raw recruits. 
 Stand up and tackle lesson number two. 
 Your pilot's wounded near the heart — that's me, 
 Now grasp your wheel and steady me while I lean 
 My head upon your shoulder near the neck — 
 This last is quite important, near the neck, — 
 There! (sighs) now we'll glide where enemy eyes can't 
 see! 
 
 Char. To fly is just like being born again. 
 
 Flying's the only life now on for me, — 
 This is great ! how long is it to last ? 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 43 
 
 Fran. Why, till your mother pounds upon the stairs 
 
 And hollers down: "It's time to go to bed!" 
 Char. My mother tell me what to do ! ! You dare 
 
 Taunt me with taking orders from a woman! 
 Fran. Come, come, my boy, all this is boastful talk, 
 
 When the right woman takes you well in hand (takes his 
 hand) 
 
 You'll do her bidding just as you do mine. 
 
 Now never interrupt an officer, — 
 
 It's certain death, that's all there is about it! 
 Char. I beg your pardon, Captain, all these things 
 
 Are new to me, but I'm a willing learner, 
 
 And all you teach I strive to learn by heart. 
 Fran. Then I shall put my whole heart in this work. 
 
 You recognize me as your Captain? 
 Char. Yes, 
 
 Forevermore. I'll kneel and kiss your hand 
 
 And swear that I'll protect you from all men 
 
 On land and sea and in the heaven as well (kneels and 
 kisses hand.) 
 Fran. Come weal, come woe. I'll hold you to your oath. 
 
 Guard you from every foe that ventures near, — 
 
 Not men alone, but every woman too! 
 
 There's one thing more. You see I'm French and there 
 
 In France men seal these pledges with a kiss. 
 
 As Nelson kissed his mess-mate ere he died ! 
 
 Je suis le capitaine et une fine mouche. 
 
 II faut que nous nous baissions, mon soldat, sur le 
 bouche ! 
 
 (Kisses him and he returns it, first mimicking her.) 
 Char. I don't know what that means in English, but the French 
 
 Just trickles down my throat and gives my heart a 
 wrench ! 
 
 Please teach me further, Captain, I could still 
 
 Obey forever while your lips command! 
 
 (A deep groan from the Scallop Shanty). 
 
44 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 Fran. Good Lord ! What's that ? First I must see your mother, 
 I'll teach you further as occasion offers. 
 As yet we've but the prologue to our play, 
 Now. lest the foe suspect, each go his way. (exeunt) 
 
 Scene 3 — Gabriel, Iphigenia 
 
 Iphi. Here we are at the old Scallop Shanty. Aunt Miriam 
 swears it's bewitched. Vashti told me you wanted to see me 
 down here. Now, Gabriel, what do you want? 
 
 Gab. I dunno. I dunno why I came down. I guess I was 
 uneasy up above. 
 
 Iphi. (patting his head). Why, there's nothing up above 
 to make you uneasy. Come now, why do you want to see me at 
 the Scallop Shanty? 
 
 Gab. Cause I don't. Vashti's a liar. I feel just like a scal- 
 lop myself. I wish I could clap both my shells together, and 
 back away from you the way they do. 
 
 Iphi. You'd never make a scallop, Gabriel. A scallop has 
 an eye for things that are better'n itself. 
 
 Gab. And I have an eye, I have. I have two eyes, I have, 
 and I see you a-pokin' fun at me and I'll never ask you out in my 
 boat again. 
 
 Iphi. Spose you asked me out and the boat tipped over, 
 would you save me? 
 
 Gab. Can you swim? 
 
 Iphi. That means you'd let me drown, but can you swim? 
 
 Gab. Swim? I can swim like a duck! 
 
 Iphi. A real duck? 
 
 Gab. Yes, I've got duck's feet. I've got membranes be- 
 tween my toes, I have. Mother said I'd have to strike out for 
 myself some day and she never snipped 'em ! 
 
 Iphi. (mimicking him) So you've got membranes be- 
 tween your toes! I always thought your brains were in your 
 feet. If your mother had snipped 'em, you wouldn't have any 
 brains at all. 
 
 Gab. Iphigenia, I've half a mind to hit yer. 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 46 
 
 Iphi. If you feel that way, I'm going back to the house. 
 
 Gab. Don't go, Iphigenia, not yet. 
 
 Iphi. Well, you'd better give me some inducement to re- 
 main. I don't want to stay here just to fight. 
 
 Gab. Nor do I. I've been a-fightjng with myself the whole 
 morning. I don't want to marry Vashti and I won't. 
 
 Iphi. Come, sit down and we'll talk it over and try it on 
 another tack. 
 
 Gab. I don't want to sit on a tack. I'd sooner face the 
 enemy. That's what I told 'em when I was operated on. I didn't 
 take any ether and I had something worse than you ever hacl ! 
 
 Iphi. I see, you're dying to tell me. What was it? 
 
 Gab. It was something awful. They had to cut it out. 
 
 Iphi. How brave you were to let them cut it out! 
 
 Gab. H'm! You bet I was. The doctor shoved a thing-a- 
 ma-jig down my throat and cut out my asteroids! 
 
 Iphi. Adenoids you mean, asteroids are little stars. 
 
 Gab. I saw stars all right when he done it and you needn't 
 be poking your fun at my eternal anatopism. 
 
 Iphi. There now, I wouldn't say anything disrespectful of 
 your internal anatomy, if that's what you mean. 
 
 Gab. I was just goin' to say something infectious and 
 you've drawn it out of my head with your teasin'. 
 
 Iphi. Gabriel, you can say all the affectionate things you 
 like. I'll never tease you no more. Why, I wouldn't hurt one of 
 the lower animals wantonly, and I guess Aunt Miriam's tease 
 enough for you now. 
 
 Gab. Aunt Miriam '11 never tease me no more ! 
 
 Iphi. She ain't dead, is she? 
 
 Gab. Lord, no, she's very much alive, she is. Corpses don't 
 kiss — can you keep a secret? 
 
 Iphi. Yes, if you'll let me tell Vashti. 
 
 Gab. That'll be a safe secret when two women know it, 
 but I'll tell you. I don't care. I saw it with these eyes and they 
 weren't scallop's eyes that time. He was a-kissing of her and she 
 was a-kissing of him. 
 
 Iphi. Who? I want to know! 
 
46 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 Gab. That flyin' osculator, or whatever they call them 
 things in the department stores that take you up in the air, 
 Cap'n Francis. 
 
 Iphi. I don't believe it — Aunt Miriam? 
 
 Gab. You needn't hold up your hands. It's as true as I'm 
 a-sittin' here. 
 
 Iphi. How'd he do it? You'll never convince me. 
 
 Gab. Why, I can see every little detail. I could act it all 
 over again just the way we used to act in the old Town Hall. 
 Those were the dear old days, those were. 
 
 Iphi. Can't you act it over again? I'd love to see it! 
 
 Gab. Stand up! I'll do it. Rehearsals is bully. She comes 
 up to him. He's a little mite of a man and she pokes him in the 
 ribs like this. Here now, just poke me in the ribs, the short ribs, 
 just where you grow thin when you pull a long breath! Now 
 again ! Then he chucks her under the chin, so, and then he gives 
 her the most skioodlin squeeze you ever felt (she squeals) and 
 next he tells her to hold her hands up in the air — hold 'em up, 
 Iphigenia, — and shut her eyes, — shut 'em tight now! — and be- 
 fore she can say "bilge-water," he kisses her ker-slap on the lips, 
 (kisses her). It's God's truth, Iphigenia, I saw 'em do it and I'm 
 going to hold it over her to her dying day . I wouldn't run the 
 risk of getting caught that way for all the money in the world ! 
 
 Iphi. Why not? 
 
 Gab. Why not? A woman now-a-days would sue you for a 
 promise o' breeches or whatever you call it. You can't be too 
 careful now-a-days. 
 
 Iphi. You're in good humor now, aren't you, Gabriel? 
 
 Gab. I never felt jollier in all my life. You know when I 
 saw that little fellow on his tip toes a-kissin' Aunt Miriam, I 
 thought I'd like to do it myself, only not Aunt Miriam, she bites ! 
 
 Iphi. How do you know she does? 
 
 Gab. I only know what all the boys say. 
 
 Iphi. Well, suppose your cousin, who's sittin' right here 
 beside you, would suggest somebody, would you try her? 
 
 Gab. Who's her? I don't bite so easy as Aunt Miriam. 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 47 
 
 Iphi. Spose "her" could suggest somebody who'd care for 
 you more'n Vashti. Who'd wash and mend your clothes and 
 never tease you no more. Who'd keep you happy all your life 
 long. Who'd save your money and — 
 
 Gab. If I could find a woman who'd do all that and who'd 
 save my money too, I'd marry her and give up singing my song 
 that got all the girls mad. 
 
 Iphi. Well, I'll save your money, Gabriel, you won't even 
 lose the smoke out of your pipe, if you marry me. 
 
 Gab. Honest Injun, Iphigenia? Cross your heart? 
 
 Iphi. Honest Injun! Cross my heart! 
 
 Gab. There's one thing more. I won't have to kiss you 
 very often, will I? 
 
 Iphi. (tossing her head') Suit yourself, Gabriel. You 
 can't be too careful now-a-days. A woman might sue you ! 
 
 Gab. If she did sue me, she'd never recover. 
 
 Iphi. You mean, if you kissed her, she'd never recover. 
 
 Gab. There, you're a-teasin' me again. You see, too much 
 kissin' hurts my voice so I can't sing and I just can't give up 
 singing. 
 
 Iphi. Well, Gabriel, for Mercy's sake, sing. I can put my 
 hands over my ears as easy as over my mouth! Then we'll go 
 and top the corn, for the ears ripen quicker when the tops are 
 cut off and we'll need the tops for the winter's fodder. 
 
 THE GIRLS OF CHATHAM 
 
 Air — The streets, the streets of Dublin. 
 
 The girls, the girls of Chatham, 
 
 ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta. 
 The girls, the girls of Chatham, 
 
 ta-ta-ta-ta-ta-ta. 
 The girls, the girls of Chatham, 
 
 Cash, there you are, 
 They want my money, drat 'em. 
 
 ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha-ha! (Twice). 
 One took me out a-walkin', 
 Right off she fell to talkin'. 
 
48 THE SCALLOPSHANTY 
 
 She said: I wish you'd squeeze me, 
 You don't know how 'twould ease me. 
 
 I said: You're rough and wizzly, 
 I'd sooner squeeze a grizzly. 
 
 She said: Come, kiss me now, sir, 
 I'll slick you like a cow, sir. 
 
 I said: Just keep on fishin' — 
 The best of life is wishin'. 
 
 She said: My boy, let's buckle, 
 Our life will be one chuckle! 
 
 I said: I'm not a-sharin' 
 
 My cash and left her swearin'. 
 
 Scene 4. — Ichabod and Vashti 
 
 Ich. It's all that crazy Scallop Shanty. I suppose Gabriel 
 was right. 
 
 Va. What do you mean, Ichabod? 
 
 Ich. Why. he said the Scallop Shanty was haunted by a 
 bogle. I said it wasn't and he called me a damn fool. 
 
 Va. He might have left out the word "damn." I hate swear- 
 ing. But why do you call the Scallop Shanty "crazy?" 
 
 Ich. Well, everybody that comes near it, carries on so. 
 Maybe the place is bewitched. It's just like the old nursery tales 
 when some fairy used to set people a-standin' on their heads. 
 
 Va. I love fairy stories. They always turn out right and 
 things never do in this world and so, Ichabod, what you have to do 
 is fashion a little world of your own and keep that pure and sweet 
 and if you meet anything ugly or wicked in the world outside, just 
 leave it outside where it belongs and try and make a little piece of 
 heaven for yourself. Even a mud-puddle can do that. Did you 
 never look into one and see the sky? Now I should think men 
 could do as well as mud-puddles. 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 49 
 
 Ich. That sounds rational. But Gabriel told me how he sat 
 in the shanty and saw that flyin'-machine man a-kissin' Aunt 
 Miriam and I scurried down and hid in the shanty and along 
 comes him and Charley and durn me the same thing happened and 
 I was just a-comin' out to get Iphigenia and make love to her as 
 best I could, — for I don't like her, — when bless you, along she 
 comes with Gabriel and, durn me, the same thing happens again. 
 I suppose before you and I get away from here the same tide '11 be 
 rising again, won't it? 
 
 Va. If it's a question of tide or not, I hope the knot may be 
 tied right, Ichabod. Then it will stay tied forever, won't it? 
 
 Ich. Well, you're a-tieing me up in knots all right, and that 
 Shanty is bewitched after all. 
 
 Va. I feel sure it's bewitched, Ichabod, don't you? 
 
 Ich. Yes, I've got to propose to you or Iphigenia. You're 
 right handy and the sooner it's over the better. Oh dear, oh dear. 
 
 Va. I'll try to be dear to you, Ichabod. You were once en- 
 gaged to a girl, Ichabod? 
 
 Ich. Yes, but she threw me over. 
 
 Va. How could any girl throw you over? You never told me. 
 
 Ich. Never told nobody. Was too mad to tell anyone. But 
 I feel melancholious and lonely. Tell me, do you think I'm mean ? 
 
 Va. Why — well, — you've outgrown all your boyish faults, 
 Ichabod. I feel sure you have. 
 
 Ich. I'm glad somebody understands me. Gabriel's mean, 
 but I'm not. I loaned him a pipe-full of tobacco last week and he 
 never returned it! 
 
 Va. Why didn't you ask him for it? 
 
 Ich. I'm not that simple. If I did, he'd ask me for the pipe- 
 full o' tobacco he loaned me the week before that. 
 
 Va. But what's this got to do with the girl who threw you 
 over? 
 
 Ich. Why this. We was walking, Euthanasia and me, down 
 by the Champlain Tea Room. We could smell the clams a-steamin'. 
 They smelt real exhilirating. Euthanasia up and says: "I never 
 smelled nuthin' like them clams, yum !" I never caught her drift 
 and I says, "Euthanasia, let's walk nearer and you can sniff 'em 
 
50 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 better." So we did and Euthanasia she sniffed and smiled and I 
 said nuthin' and then she sniffed and snorted and I said nuthin' 
 and then she flared and said I was so mean I wouldn't run if the 
 sheriff was after me for fear o' losin' my breath, and she never 
 spoke to me again and do you know I never eat clams or even 
 smell 'em but I think o' that day. 
 
 Va. And would you spoil your life for a mess of clams or a 
 memory of a woman? 
 
 Ich. I loved her once. I wouldn't like to think ill of her now. 
 
 Va. I wish I could feel so. She was the one that came be- 
 tween you and me. 
 
 Ich. That sounds rational. So she was the toad that hopped 
 into my mud-puddle and muddied up the little piece of heaven you 
 were talkin' of and you were only a child then, too ! 
 
 Va. I'm not a child now, Ichabod. But why didn't you come 
 cut of your shell before. Don't you feel free with me? 
 
 Ich. I do now. I never used to. You see I stayed by myself 
 so long, I didn't know how to act with women. I got mad 
 and cussed 'em just to cover my awkwardness, and finally I 
 couldn't get clear of the habit. I wish I was a boy again ! 
 
 Va. What would you do if you were a boy, Ichabod ? 
 
 Ich. I wouldn't do nuthin' unless you were a girl, too. 
 
 Va. And suppose I were a girl again, Ichabod? 
 
 Ich. Why, Vashti, my heart would go out to you and it 
 would have done it before now, only you took up with that sum- 
 mer-feller, who never cared a cuss for you. 
 
 Va. Well, Ichabod, like a good many others, I was clutching 
 after the moon in the water, when the real moon was in heaven 
 all the while. 
 
 Ich. More mud-puddles! — but you don't mean me, do you? 
 I'm not worth that much! 
 
 Va. Perhaps not to others, but what a thing's really worth 
 is what it's worth to you and me. 
 
 Ich. Vashti, can't we take hands and reach across the years 
 between, same as from boat to dock and bridge over with love 
 what was pulled apart by folly? 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 51 
 
 Va. It's the nice old affections that count in this world, Ich- 
 abod, and there ain't much else ! 
 
 Ich. That's true, Vashti, and it isn't your fault I didn't 
 learn that lesson before now. 
 
 Va. There are some lessons in this world, Ichabod, that each 
 of us must learn alone and they are often the most precious. I 
 have always tried to help everybody all I could and you most of 
 all. 
 
 Ich. You don't have to tell me that, Vashti, — you're as 
 sweet and pretty as the night I brought you home from the 
 church circle and called you my chicken. 
 
 Va. Chickens come home to roost, Ichabod, (snuggles up 
 and kisses him) and I'm so glad this reconciliation has happened 
 before you go to war. 
 
 Ich. Same here, Vashti. I don't mind gettin' killed as long 
 as I know you'll love and remember me. 
 
 Va. That's nice to hear, but you ought to have nobler no- 
 tions than that. What do you think of the war, any way? 
 
 Ich. Vashti, I'm not so bookish as the school-master or the 
 parson, but I've been to sea like other Chatham men and when 
 the Captain sings out : "Ichabod, aloft there !" up I go, no matter 
 if I'm blown overboard. He's running the ship, not me. So when 
 the President sings out: "Ichabod! Aloft there!" up I go, he's 
 running the ship, not me and even if I do get blown away, this 
 Ship of State with his hand on the helm and his eye on the chart 
 will weather the storm and make a safe harbor! 
 
 Va. I'm proud of you, Ichabod, and what's more, Chatham 
 is proud of you, for in you and such as you lies the hope of this 
 nation. Now we'll go and help Iphigenia and Gabriel top the corn. 
 
 (Exeunt). 
 
52 
 
 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
INTERLUDE 
 
 The Lights o' Chatham Towb. 
 Air— "Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes." 
 
 Over the world where'er I fare 
 
 Sea-roving up and down, 
 Forever in my heart 1 bear 
 
 The Lights o' Chatham Town. 
 
 I walk the deck and watch the wain 
 Turn slowly round the pole, 
 
 While still around my native town 
 Untravelled turns my soul. 
 
 Your chilly stars I can forego, 
 
 Beyond the flying foam, 
 Abides the only heaven I know — 
 
 My far-off Chatham home. 
 
 Near to the beach a cottage stands 
 
 And in it I can see 
 A pair of tiny baby hands 
 
 Upreached in love to me. 
 
 And I can see a form, all white, 
 That bends that crib above, 
 
 And almost feel the beating heart 
 That taught me first to love. 
 
 That's why, as o'er the world I fare, 
 Sea-roving up and down, 
 
 Still, still within my heart I bear 
 The Lights o' Chatham Town. 
 
ACT V. 
 
 Scene 1. — Frances. 
 
 Fran. I find that I'm related more or less 
 
 To every soul in Chatham. First, my great aunt, 
 
 As if our present ties were not enough, 
 
 Heaven help her, wants to marry me — her niece! 
 
 And second, my first cousins once removed, — 
 
 I wish I could remove them once for all 
 
 And trim this family tree of tangled limbs, — 
 
 Will wed my second cousins and their own 
 
 First cousins once removed and I shall wed 
 
 My second and their first cousin once removed, 
 
 That is, if I survive when they find out 
 
 I came to find them out in this disguise 
 
 Which will undo me yet, for like a worm 
 
 I've wound myself in this cocoon of lies 
 
 Till every way I turn involves me more. 
 
 So fine the threads of my deceit are spun 
 
 They've snared poor Miriam's heart until she loves 
 
 The shadow of a man cast by a woman. 
 
 While my own heart is tangled with this boy's 
 
 Beyond my power or wish to set it free. 
 
 I've changed the old lamp of maiden modesty 
 
 For this new lamp of male effrontery — 
 
 Yet am I true in spirit to my sex. 
 
 Most women follow though they seem to fly. 
 
 Who makes men woo? Who shakes their hollow heads 
 
 Till the right dice, those words: "Will thou be mine? 
 
 Leap forth. We plan occasion, time and place 
 
 And sway them with a force as firm and fine 
 
 As that which swings a satellite round its sun. 
 
 Now, having moralized so much I fear 
 
 Some swift relapse, for of the crooked stuff 
 
 That makes up man, not even the gods themselves 
 
 Can hammer out one true and perfect soul. 
 
56 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 How shall I doff this feigned identity 
 And be a woman and myself once more? 
 There's something holy banished from our life 
 When modesty and love and motherhood 
 And all the sweet retirement of our sex 
 Wade flaunting down the gutters of the world. 
 Who dares oppose the spirit of the times 
 Becomes a martyr, — oh, I'm sick of this, — 
 A miss turned man finds everything amiss ! 
 
 (Enter Roxanna). 
 
 Scene 2. — Frances, Roxanna. 
 
 Fran. So you are Roxanna and I am — 
 
 Rox. Very positive as to my identity before I avow it. 
 
 Fran. A soldier, madam, must decide quickly and tho' your 
 lips have not avowed it, your face, your eyes and even your man- 
 ner proclaim you the mother of my friend and his mother is Rox- 
 anna. 
 
 Rox. Do you really think my boy favors me so much? 
 
 Fran. So much that I cannot but extend the very deep in- 
 terest I have taken in Charley to his mother. 
 
 Rox. You've found my weakness and yet I believe all moth- 
 ers feel the same. 
 
 Fran. True, but those mothers are fortunate whose feel- 
 ings, like yours, rest not on partiality but on reality. I have long 
 been a stranger to the affections of a parent and so our feelings 5 
 ought to draw us together. 
 
 Rox. I don't quite follow you, — in a word what do you want 
 of me and Charley? 
 
 Fran. I'm an officer in the Aviation Camp at Nickerson's 
 Neck and am interested in your boy's career and have come to 
 you to engage board. 
 
 Rox. An officer! Fudge, you look too young. What would 
 you do if you actually met the enemy? 
 
 Fran. I'd blow him up with my gun. 
 
 Rox. And if you lost your gun? 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 57 
 
 Fran. I'd cut him down with my sword. 
 
 Rox. And if you lost your sword? 
 
 Fran. I'd kick him and bite him. 
 
 Rox. Wouldn't he kick and bite, too? 
 
 Fran. Yes, he'd kick the bucket and bite the dust. 
 
 Rox. What if you bit the dust yourself? 
 
 Fran. I'd do my bit before I bit the dust. You see there 
 are two sorts of fighting men : 
 
 The man who fights with steel and lead 
 May die, his country is not dead 
 But thanks to him may win the war. 
 While he, who fights with lung and jaw, 
 Will, when his country's dead and gone, 
 Still work his jaw and still fight on. 
 
 Rox. Young man, you're a soldier after my own heart. 
 
 Fran. Can you blame me? A heart like yours is not to be 
 found every day. 
 
 Rox. If you think so, never try to impose upon it. I'll give 
 you a room, what can you afford to pay? 
 
 Fran. At present nothing. 
 
 Rox. Then for the present, pay nothing. I like your frank- 
 ness, but have you really no father, no mother and were you born 
 in Chatham as my girls and Aunt Miriam say? 
 
 Fran. I have no relations nearer than you, so you see how 
 lonely I am. I was born in Chatham, but Chatham in England 
 and I came here to investigate our relations, — that is I am here 
 in the United States to make the relations between my country 
 and yours as intimate and cordial as possible and I do hope I have 
 prevailed upon your boy and his mother also, to help me in a mat- 
 ter so near to my own heart. 
 
 Rox. You've certainly fired him with an enthusiasm for his 
 work and if you can only exert a good influence over Charley and 
 keep him to the path of rectitude and duty, you'll win a mother's 
 love and a mother's blessing and be to me as a son ! 
 
 Fran. I can never be to you as a son, — It's really quite im- 
 possible. 
 
 Rox. Nonsense! I'd mother you like my own boy! 
 
58 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 Fran. I wouldn't want your boy to mother me, but I'd like 
 you for a mother all right and if I can earn your mother's love 
 and your mother's blessing by my devotion to your boy, they are 
 mine already. Here he comes now! 
 
 Scene 3 — Frances, Roxanna, Charley. 
 
 Char. Hello, mother. So you've made the acquaintance of 
 the Captain? 
 
 Rox. Yes, he's to stay here with us. Captain, would you 
 sooner have a room to yourself or a room with Charley? 
 
 Fran. A room to myself, madam. I sit up all night in a 
 chair if I can't get a room to myself. We have to do that in our 
 flying machines, you know. Then, — oh, yes, — I study aloud at 
 aeronautics nearly every night and I couldn't have my studies 
 disturbed. 
 
 Char. I wouldn't disturb you, Captain, I'd just watch you. 
 
 Fran. Good lord! 
 
 Char. Yes and when you studied aloud, I could learn lots ! 
 
 Fran. No doubt you could, young man, but remember you're 
 pledged to obedience. At present I room alone! 
 
 Rox. Where's your trunk, Captain? 
 
 Fran. I carry my wardrobe on my trunk, not in it, for the 
 only trunk I possess is the trunk of my body and my only clothes 
 are these. 
 
 Rox. You poor boy ! Just run up with Charley to his room. 
 He'll have those togs off you in a jiffy and we'll find some way to 
 rig you out. 
 
 Fran, (aside) (They'll rig some way to find me out, I can't 
 keep this game up much longer). (Aloud), I'd rather not run 
 upstairs. We soldiers never run you know. Don't you think this 
 dress becoming enough? 
 
 Rox. No, you talk like a girl. Take it off. You'll roast to 
 death! Come here. I'll help you! 
 
 Fran. Impossible! Military discipline. We have to wear 
 these togs rain or shine, wash day or ironing day — and all other 
 days and nights. I can stand it. 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 59 
 
 Rox. Stand up then alongside of Charley. I want to see you 
 together. 
 
 Fran. Nothing would give me greater pleasure. (They 
 stand) . 
 
 Char. Now, mother, ask him to show you lesson No. 1 and 
 lesson No. 2. They're just bully! 
 
 Fran. Young man, military secrets can't be divulged even 
 to your own flesh and blood ! 
 
 Char. What! Not tell mother? 
 
 Rox. No, you foolish boy. The Captain is quite right. 
 Captain, I don't want you to tell a single thing till you're ready. 
 
 Fran. I wish I could tell you everything, but I can't. I don't 
 know how to begin. I feel as if I'd found a home and someone to 
 protect me — I mean some one to protect, I care, oh, so much for 
 you and for your boy and, — and — and — 
 
 (She clutches Roxanna's hand as Miriam rushes in). 
 
 Scene* 4. — Miriam, Frances, Roxanna, Charley. 
 
 Mir. Just what I thought. I've been three times round this 
 town of Chatham — . you deceitful, treacherous young villain 
 and you, Roxanna Cleat, — you perfidious viper, what do you mean 
 by weaving your webs and wiles round the heart of that innocent 
 boy, who should be shielded by my motherly love? 
 
 Rox. Motherly love! That's something to which you are 
 a stranger, Miriam Cable, God never blessed you with a child ! 
 
 Mir. (Stamping wildly) No! but if you'd only let me get 
 married, he might and this dear, innocent boy wouldn't be de- 
 stroyed by your devouring passions! 
 
 Rox. The woman's wild ! Why, Miriam, how you talk ! This 
 boy is my boy's friend, my guest. You have no claim upon him, 
 not the slightest. 
 
 Mir. O monstrous impudence! I'm out of my mind, am I? 
 He's my boarder, ask him yourself ! 
 
 Rox. Are you her boarder? 
 
 Fran. I am not! 
 
60 THE SCALLOP SHANTY 
 
 Mir. You lie! You engaged board of me at $50 a week, 
 meals and lodging extra. Deny it if you dare! 
 
 Fran (hiding behind Roxanna) Aunt Miriam, I did not. I 
 said I could pay $50 a week as easily as I could pay 50 cents a 
 week and that's true. I can pay neither. 
 
 Mir. I won't be trifled with. He's mine! Of all the impu- 
 dence, to call me "Aunt!" I tell you, Roxanna, he's mine! 
 
 Rox. Miriam Cable, you shan't touch a hair of his head ! 
 
 Mir. He's pledged to me, I'll have him hair and all! 
 
 Rox. Control yourself! You act like one possessed! 
 
 Mir. And will be or of this boy I'll be possessed ! 
 
 Rox. Not while I live. 
 
 Mir. I will! 
 
 Rox. You won't! 
 
 Mir. I shall! 
 
 Rox. You shan't! 
 
 Mir. I'll topple the Town of Chatham on your heads before 
 you'll hold me off from what's my own! (In the squabble Fran- 
 ces looses her sweater and slicker and sou' wester and her hair 
 comes down revealing her sex. Then all the others come in car- 
 rying corn-stalks from topping the corn). 
 
 Scene 5. — Everybody. 
 
 Fran. (Rushing to Charley) Protect me, oh, protect your Cap- 
 tain. As you love me, remember your oath ! 
 
 Char. Don't worry. Shame will beat that fury back. 
 
 Mir. You'll beat my back? Take that, and that, and that! 
 
 Char. Aunt Miriam, if you don't act like a woman, I'm under no 
 obligation to treat you as such ! 
 
 Gab. Lord, here's all hell broke loose, sort of family reunion, 
 I take it. Somebody tie her up ! 
 
 Ich. What for ? No rope could ever tie her tongue ! 
 
 Mir. A woman, lord, a woman ! 
 
 She said her name was Francis and she lied. 
 She said she was born in Chatham and she lied. 
 Her words, her looks, her every act's a lie ; 
 Her life's a lie and when dead she'll lie still ! 
 
A CHATHAM PLAY 61 
 
 Fran. But, I'm not dead and so shall not lie still ! 
 I never said I was a man, I said 
 My name was Frances, Frances is my name, 
 A woman's name, a man's name as you please. 
 Know all, for I shall clear this mystery 
 That Captain Cable, born in Chatham here, 
 Aunt Miriam, your lost brother, stopped one day 
 In Chatham on the Medway over seas, 
 Our English Chatham, near to London, There 
 He met and wooed my mother, — both are dead. 
 And I am Frances Cable their sole child, 
 Who in this battlefield, you style a home 
 Have sought and found my father's kith and kin. 
 This ring, this locket will resolve your doubts. 
 And show you that I am my father's child 
 And your own cousin eighteen years removed. 
 
 Ich. Lockets and rings ! I'd like to wring your neck 
 
 And take your tongue and lock it in your mouth! 
 Now all I counted on is yours by law, 
 And all my worldly wealth is one poor wife. 
 But while I've strength to dig a mess o' clams, 
 Don't worry, Vashti, BOTH of us won't starve. 
 
 Gab. To lose the riches I have never had! 
 
 That's awful tough, — but it's the "mind" that makes 
 A body rich — my wife shall learn to mind 
 And while she has the strength to work, my love 
 Will stick to her and her bread-winning ways 
 Like pitch to some old rat-forsaken boat! 
 
 Fran. You'll learn e'er long a woman's worth and blush 
 At your own worthlessness, that strives to jest 
 With things that dazzle your earth-seeking eyes 
 Until you quite forget there is a heaven. 
 And sisters, — in the war-racked land I've left 
 All women are just sisters and have learned 
 To share with each and all whate'er they have, — 
 Food, clothes and home and joy and grief, till now 
 A nobler life is springing from the death 
 
62 THE SCALLOPSHANTY 
 
 Of our old selfish life that could not last. 
 Therefore whatever my inheritance, 
 Little or large, I'll share it with you two, 
 So all may learn the lesson war has taught 
 Of common kindred, nobler womanhood, 
 Duty and love and fellowship with God. 
 And by your leave the self -same wedding bells 
 That herald your great happiness shall chime 
 For mine, who then shall be your brother's wife 
 And though an English heart throbs in my breast 
 It beats true Yankee as one true heart should beat 
 World-wide through all the English-speaking race! 
 Rox. Some joys there are that cannot find a tongue 
 But fill the soul like a deep voiceless tide, 
 As gathered round our Scallop Shanty here 
 We bid you welcome to our heart and home. 
 
 Mir. This cannot be a dream, — whose heart, whose home? 
 Will no one tell me what all this may mean? 
 
 Iph. It means the woman, who plays her cards aright 
 Can get a husband e'er a day takes flight. 
 
 Gab. It means before you a changed man you see, 
 
 That's all the "change" my wife will get from me. 
 
 Va. It means though heaven affliction on us send, 
 Love, that endures, will conquer in the end. 
 
 Ich. It means that one no tempest yet could scare 
 May tremble at a woman's "breezy air!" 
 
 Fran. It means that those who seek through heaven to roam 
 May find their heaven synonymous with home. 
 
 Char. It means the man you thought you would beguile 
 Perceived and loved the woman all the while. 
 
 Mir. It means that after all's been said and sung, 
 I, Miriam Cable, have been badly stung. 
 
 Rox. It means, — well now the rest have had their say, — 
 I'll sing the Epilogue to this happy day ! 
 
ACHATHAMPLAY 63 
 
 Air — Early English. 
 
 Twas in the soft September tide 
 
 When golden rod is born, 
 My love and I stood side by side 
 
 A-topping of the corn. 
 
 No sound except the rustling fall 
 
 Of corn-stalk lightly lopped, 
 "And where's your heart?" I dared to call, 
 
 No further stalk she topped. 
 
 But smiled and blushed a rosy red 
 Both hands upon her hips, — 
 
 "And where's my heart? you ask," she said, 
 "Just now it's on my lips!" 
 
 As floats the sea-gull o'er the brine, 
 
 Then darts upon the prey — 
 Lips, heart and all I made her mine 
 
 In the dear old human way! 
 
 There's music in the rustling corn 
 When winds are piping through, 
 
 But, O, the music that is born 
 
 When loving hearts ring true. 
 
 It echoes through the rolling years 
 Where life and love abound, 
 
 The magic music of the spheres 
 
 That makes the world go round. 
 
P D :' ■ ■;. 
 
 Courier Print Shop 
 Warehun, Maw. 
 

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 Neutralizing Agent: Magnesium Oxide 
 Treatment Date: 
 
 
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 PRESERVATION TECHNOLOGIES. L.P. 
 111 Thomson Park Drive 
 

 
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