NO PLEATS EXCnANGJEiD, 
 
 FUN IN A THEATRI- 
 s^l CAL OFFICE 
 
 ■717 -^ Price, 25 Cents 
 
 COI»rRIOHT ^88*, RV WALTER H. BAKER & CO 
 
GlassJ^ S^ r-^^g* 
 Book -^^^_J^3n 
 
Fun in a Theatrical Office 
 
 A Vaudeville Entertainment 
 
 By 
 MARAVENE KENNEDY THOMPSON 
 
 BOSTON 
 
 WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 
 
 1909 
 
Fun in a Theatrical OfKce 
 
 CHARACTERS 
 
 Luke Loud, a theatrical agent. 
 
 Bat, ///»• office hoy. 
 
 Clara Vere De Vere, his stenographer. 
 
 Orchestra Carr, his pianist. 
 
 VAUDEVILLE ARTISTS 
 
 
 s"\ 
 
 Gentlemen 
 Pietro De Bianaco. 
 George Washington Lin- 
 coln. 
 Jan Getupangitski. 
 Reuben Haskins. 
 
 Ladies 
 
 Mrs. Susan Suffreno Riser. 
 
 Mrs. Trailing Arbutus Flower 
 and her thirteen children. 
 
 Miss Anise Elderbloom. 
 
 Frisky Dew drop. 
 
 Fluffy Flutter. 
 
 Madame Sylva. 
 
 Mrs. Bridget Casey. 
 
 Mrs. Rulethe Roost. 
 
 Two Ladies for sketch intro- 
 duced. 
 
 Mme. Carmencita. 
 
 " Peach " Ott. 
 
 Ruby Ott. 
 
 Goldie 
 
 Birdie \ the Coquette Sisters. 
 
 Queenie 
 
 Costumes : As described in text. 
 
 Time in Playing : Two hours and a quarter. 
 
 Copyright, 1909, by Walter H. Baker & Co. 
 TMPS6-JJo7Cp 
 
^ 
 
 INTRODUCTORY EXPLANATION 
 
 Luke Loud is a theatrical agent who has advertised for both 
 professional and amateur vaudeville artists. The applicants 
 perform before him in his office, one applicant coming on as fast 
 as another is dismissed. The curtain does not drop till the end 
 of the performance. The original performance was given very 
 successfully on a lecture platform without any curtain at all. 
 Besides Loud, the office force consists of Bat, office boy, and 
 Clara Vere de Vere, the stenographer. These three are on 
 the stage from their first entrance till end of final sketch. The 
 pianist is also part of the force, and should remain on from his 
 entrance till close, going on with first musical selection. It is 
 more realistic to have piano on the stage, as part of the office 
 furnishings. Further, the performers should address Loud, 
 and act to him. He is seated well front, making this possible. 
 During the times when Loud is seated, he should interestedly 
 look at or listen to the performers. He may occasionally scrib- 
 ble in a note-book, swing about in swivel chair, toy with paper 
 weight, etc., but he must never draiv the attentioti of the au- 
 dience from the performers to himself. Nor must Bat. 
 'i'hough either may — and should — act funny, the funnier the 
 better, in the few moments elapsing between performances. 
 The original Bat caused much mirth by his walk, and by oc- 
 casionally chucking the stenographer under the chin, or doing 
 some other "fresh" trick. Even the way he called out the 
 numbers raised a big laugh, and raised it every time. The 
 slenograijher may "prink" before a hand mirror or do other 
 like stunts between sketches. All these parts have great pos- 
 sibilities in capable hands. 
 
 There should be no waits between applicants. The play 
 should "go" from start to finish. If a make-up man is era- 
 ployed, five numbers should be made up before rise of curtain ; 
 the others to be made up in the order of their numbers. A 
 good make-up adds greatly, and should be provided, if possi- 
 ble. Other specialties than here given may be introduced and 
 dismissed by a few appropriate lines as are the specialties herein. 
 All the performances should be given in the middle of the stage 
 a,nd well front, 
 
4 INTRODUCTORY EXPLANATION 
 
 The walls should be covered vviih theatrical posters. These 
 may be obtained from a theatrical bill poster by an adult ex- 
 plaining their proposed use. Other office furnishings are office 
 table, swivel chair, typewriter and table, mirror, settee, chairs, 
 hat-tree, and piano. All entrances are from right, exits left, 
 or vice versa, according to location of dressing-room : except 
 Loud and Clara, who enter door where applicants exit. 
 
 The musical selections of Nos. 3, 7, 9, and 12 should be 
 high class. They have been arranged at proper intervals be- 
 tween the funny sketches so as to give tone to the performance. 
 The play as here written and indicated plays two hours and a 
 quarter. There should be no encores save those allowed for in 
 directions. The musical numbers all have two pieces, some 
 three. This is planned to make it more realistic, the agent 
 naturally asking for the songs, etc. Under no circumstances 
 should the actors come back after having left the stage save 
 where the part requires it for its completion. And there should 
 be no bowing to audience. Remember, the parts are played to 
 Loud ; the audience should be treated as though it did not 
 exist. 
 
Fun in a Theatrical Office 
 
 SCENE. — A plain room furnished like a busitiess office. A 
 piano stands against back scene at c. ; three chairs to R. of 
 it in a row against flat ; to l. of it in the following order 
 against flat a long mirror, a hat-tree and a chair. Entrances 
 R. and h. ; chairs above each entrajice against wall. Loud's 
 desk and chair down R. ; Clara's table and chair do7vn l. 
 Just above the latter Bat's chair or stool. 
 
 Enter Bat, at curtain, in brass-buttoned uniforin, jahistling. 
 Throws hat on tree. Flirts feather duster over furni- 
 ture. Sings comic song as he works. 
 
 Bat. Well, I beat the boss here this morning. {^Continues 
 dusting ; brushes piano keys as cue for mail. Door opens and 
 mail is thrown in. Bat carries mail to centre of stage, looks 
 it over carefully, still whistling.') Well, I guess I'll let the 
 boss open it. {^Throws it on desk ; cue for stenographer'' s en- 
 trance. Enter Clara Vere de Vere, head up, very fashioii- 
 able walk. BkT follows her, with hands on hips, imitating her 
 swagger. She goes to mirror, removes coat and hat ; much 
 primping of hair. She wears shirt-waist and dark skirt, hair 
 very much a la fnode.) Did y' go to the show last night? 
 
 Clara. No. 
 
 Bat. Couldn't y' get anybody to take you ? 
 
 Clara. Of course I could. 
 
 Bat. Perhaps you could. (Clara glares.) Say, I'll be 
 sixteen to-morrow, and I ain't been kissed yet. 
 
 Clara. What's that to me? 
 
 Bat. It 7night be a good deal. Try it. 
 
 Clara. Kid ! 
 
 Bat. Kid? Huh! You ain't but eighteen. I had an 
 aunt that married a man ten years younger than her. Wait till 
 you're forty and you'll be glad to take any old thing. 
 
 (Clara sniffs and walks toward typewriter. Bat grabs 
 her by hands and savings her around. ) 
 
O FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 Enter Luke Loud, dashingly but attractively dressed. 
 
 Loud {going hurriedly through mail). All business. 
 Here ! {^Hands mail to Bat, who carries it to stenographer.') 
 Answer all the regulation stuff; the rest I'll see to — when I 
 can. {To Bat.) Many in the waiting-room? 
 
 Bat. a million or so, an' still a-comin'. About three look 
 
 like the goods. The rest Say! it won't take long to 
 
 tend to them. In — {points toward entrance) zip — out. 
 
 {Points to exit.) 
 
 Loud {banging fist on table). No, you don't. I advertised 
 for professionals and amateurs, and it's these same amateurs 
 I'm banking on. If I get one good new performer out of the 
 bunch, it's worth while, so you salt yourself down and don't 
 get fresh. I'll tend to the good-byes myself. Hear? 
 
 Bat. Washed my ears last month — guess I ought to hear. 
 
 Loud. And you see that the professionals are dressed for 
 their stunts before they come in here. Tell 'em to get a move 
 on into the dressing-room and a move on out oi it, — see? 
 And mind, don't you get fresh with the amateurs. And you 
 see that Carr is down at that piano in good season. He's been 
 coming in here any old time lately, and it don't go to-day. 
 And you see to 
 
 Bat. Hold on there ! What do y' expect for a dollar a 
 week? 
 
 Loud. A good deal more than I get out of you. {Slaps 
 him on back.) You can kick the cat and get even. Now turn 
 on the stream. 
 
 Bat {opening door, baivls out in loud, singing tones). Num- 
 ber One ! 
 
 NO. I 
 
 Enter Mrs. Susan Suffreno Riser, Costume : gray hair, 
 parted in middle and straggling somewhat. Small, rusty 
 hat, with feather awry. Basque and skirt of dark ma- 
 terial and ill-fitting. Large white tie. Black mitts. 
 
 Mrs. Riser {striding across to Loud). Behold a woman, 
 sir. A woman who is proud of her sex, proud with a righteous 
 pride. And why not — why not? 
 
 Loud. Blamed if I know. Do you, Bat? 
 
 3at. Nixy ; but let her spiel, 
 
FUN m A THEATRICAL OFFICE 7 
 
 Loud. All right, old girl, cut the wind. 
 
 Mrs. Riser. Man ! What is man but a worm of the earth ? 
 Why should he sit in the president's chair ? Why should //<? 
 sit on the Supreme Court bench ? Why should he have a place 
 in the jury's box, while I, / who could fill them all a thou- 
 sand times 
 
 Loud. Fill them all? What are you, a swarm? 
 
 Mrs. Riser. Don't be flippant, young man. When I say 
 /, I mean my sex, my noble, downtrodden, abused, yet illus- 
 trious sex. But we have arisen. We have thrown ofi' the 
 shackles of slavery. We have cast our burdens down for you 
 to carry. (^Unfurls flag bearing the inscription " Down With 
 Man.'"') See that? Ha! Down shall go man to dishwashing 
 and darning of socks, to cooking and scrubbing, to dressing 
 the children and washing their milk bottles. {Strides up and 
 down stage.) And woman ! Woman shall make the laws. 
 Then we shall have clean streets and boiled water ! We shall 
 kill the demon R-r-r-um 1 We shall have no bosses — but our- 
 selves. No graft — that we don't sanction. We shall exter- 
 minate all evils from our fair land, even if we exterminate man 
 with it. And there shall be no poor. We'll issue ten million 
 dollars a day, or ten billions — why not ? Why should the poor 
 starve when green paper and printing ink are plenty ? That 
 shows man's idiocy — the fool ! Wait till woman runs the legis- 
 lature — till she makes the laws. {Takes roll of paper from her 
 pocket.) Listen while I read you 
 
 Loud. Hold on — I don't want the story of your past. 
 
 Mrs. Riser. Past ? Hah ! This is the future — the glo- 
 rious future. {Reads.) " Law I : Every man shall marry be- 
 fore he is twenty-five or go to jail." 
 
 Loud. Jail for mine. 
 
 Mrs. Riser. "Law II : Every female child by the time it 
 is two years old shall be able to read a ballot, and every male 
 child to sew on a button, or their parents fined five thousand 
 dollars, or imprisoned, or both. Law III : Any man who 
 swears, smokes, chews, drinks rum, or belongs to a secret so- 
 ciety, shall be chloroformed. Law IV: Any woman who 
 cooks, sews, or tends the baby, shall be deprived of her rights 
 as a citizen. Law V : The salary of woman shall be double 
 that of her inferior, man." 
 
 Loud. Ring off. Now you hike to the tall woods. 
 
 Bat. Scat! Scat! (Shoos her toward door.) 
 
 Mrs. Riser. Sir! Do you know who /am — Mrs. Susan 
 
8 FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 Suffreno Riser, the English suffragette who made Parliament 
 bend the knee. I have been in jail for my cause. Now I want 
 to go 
 
 Loud. You may. Hike ! 
 
 Mrs. Riser. On the lecture platform. I want to tell poor 
 woman of her slavery. Why should she talk and talk 
 
 Loud [rising and i^oing toward her). Yes — why? 
 
 Mrs. Riser. In vain for her rights. {Waves flag.) Up 
 with woman — up with woman. 
 
 Loud {picking her up and throwing her across his shoulder). 
 Up she goes. 
 
 ( Carries her off stage ; she pounding his head. Bat dances 
 gleefully up and do7vn. Loud seats himself and mops his 
 forehead.) 
 
 Bat {throwing open entrance door). Number Two! 
 
 NO. II 
 
 Enter Mrs. Trailing Arbutus Flower and thirteen flower- 
 ets. Costumes: Mrs. F., beflotvered gown and hat, 
 fancy parasol, — overdressed in an esthetic way. Girl 
 flowerets : very fancy hats, hair curled or waved, dresses 
 very fluffy, trimmed with lace and flying ribbons. Stock- 
 ings to match dresses, bows of ribbon tied fust belo70 
 the knee. Parasols. Boy flowerets : tvhite suits, wide 
 lace or muslin collars, bows of ribbon on pant legs, lace 
 or la7vn ruffles in pant bottoms, or up seams on leg. 
 Fancy floiving jieckties, sashes tied in big boivs about 
 waist. White hats with paper flozvers to match names 
 put on so as to show against face. Fancy stockings. 
 Cafies tied ivith ribbons. Not all to have all the above as 
 suggested, but each some esthetic touch. And all in har- 
 mony so as to make a beautiful picture, or to give a spec- 
 tacular effect. Mrs. F. has back toivard children while 
 addressing Loud ; the children then are up to all sorts of 
 tricks, tweaking each other, grimacing, fostling, twirling 
 sticks and parasols. The smaller children have toys, such 
 as jacks on sticks, and play 7inth these. But all ttiust be 
 done noiselessly — at no time must they drozvn her voice. 
 When she turns to address them they all straighten up 
 sedately. They should do this cleverly, beginning their 
 pranks the moment her back is turned, and instantly 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 9 
 
 coming to order wJien sJie faces ihe/n. Their ages are 
 from six to sixteen — the yonngest should be sturdy and 
 ■naturally roguish. Girls and boys in as even propor- 
 tion as possible. Line begins with oldest and ends with 
 youngest. 
 
 Mrs. F. (jvalking to Loud's table, the flojvcrets folloiving, 
 forming in line facing front). Sir, you see before you the 
 most remarkable family in this country, — is it too much to say- 
 in any country? Some mothers have one or two fairly smart 
 children in a half-dozen, but to have thirteen and have them 
 all prodigies ! Is not that a record to make a mother proud ? 
 A state proud? A nation proud ? (^Turns.') My dear, tell 
 the gentleman your name. 
 
 Child I (oldest). Wake-robin, Wild-azalea, Marsh-mari- 
 gold Flower. 
 
 Mrs. F. Yours now, angel child. 
 
 Child II. Violet, Pansy, Heliotrope Flower. 
 
 Mrs. F. And yours, my child. 
 
 Child III. Pussy-willow, Sweet-briar, Goldenrod, Lupine 
 Flower. 
 
 Mrs. F, You see, sir, I have given them all the names of 
 flowers. It is an original idea, sir, entirely original. Born a 
 "Flower" why, said I, should they not be a particular sort of 
 flower ? 
 
 Child IV. I'm a Daisy, Tulip, Chr^'sanlhemum Flower. 
 
 Mrs. F. And what kind of a flower is mother's child ? 
 
 Child V. Calla lily, Lily of the valley. Wild lily, Mari- 
 posa-lily, Easter lily, and every-fool-sort-of-lily-that-grows 
 Flower. 
 
 Mrs. F. Did I not hear you mention a new sort of lily ? 
 
 Child V. Oh, yes, mama, a fleur-de-lis lily. 
 
 Mrs. F. Charming thought, charming. And now, mother's 
 blessing, your name. 
 
 Child VI. John. 
 
 Mrs. F. John ! Never did I name child of mine common 
 plebian John. Now, dear. 
 
 Child VI. John ! 
 
 Mrs. F. My child ! 
 
 Child VI. John ! John ! 
 
 Mrs. F. You see, sir, force of character. He was chris- 
 tened Carnation, Night-blooming cereus. Honeysuckle, but 
 always since he could talk has he insisted on calling himself 
 
10 FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 John. Marvelous children, marvelous. Now yours, my pre- 
 cious. 
 
 Child VII. Eglantine, Poinsetta, Geranium, Sweet-briar 
 Flower — at home. (Aside, through ha fids.) At school my 
 name's Bill. 
 
 Mrs. F. Now, light of my life. 
 
 Child VIII. Hydrangea, Peony, Snowball, Dahlia, Lilac 
 Flower. 
 
 Mrs. F. You see, sir, the flowers whose names she bears 
 are all fluffy blooms. I believe always in the esthetic fitness 
 of things. Yours next, sweetheart. 
 
 Child IX. Rose, Orchid, Aster, Oleander Flower. {Steps 
 toward agent.) Born, sir, with a desire to act. All my life 
 long have I yearned to act. {Reaches out arms drajnatically 
 and sings to tune of " Maid of Athens.'') 
 
 O man of grease paint, ere I go — 
 Take, O take me in your show — 
 Since ambition's filled my breast 
 Ne'er a moment can I rest. 
 
 Mrs. F. Hear, sir ! Hear ! Truly she is destined to a 
 great histrionic career. She is known in the whole neighbor- 
 hood as the 
 
 Child IX. Child actress. 
 
 Child X {stepping forward and yanking Child IX back). 
 And I'm known as Fuchsia, Begonia, Clematis, Crocus Flower. 
 
 Mrs. F. Now, my lambkin. 
 
 Child XI. Say, ma, if you just must call me a pet name, 
 please call me billy-goat. 
 
 Mrs. F. What ! call my gentle white lambkin billy-goat ! 
 You see, sir, his sense of humor, his rare wit. Marvelous 
 children ! Marvelous ! 
 
 Child XII. I'm a hyacinth, and a mignonette, and a mag- 
 nolia, and a orange blossom, and all kind of sweet fings, I am. 
 
 Child XIII [running to front). I'm just a bachelor but- 
 ton — she runned out 'fore she got to me. 
 
 Mrs. F. 1 was very ill, sir, and the boys named him. 
 
 Boys {in chorus). Sure we did ; didn't we. Butt, old sport? 
 
 (Child XIII ru?is to boys.) 
 
 Mrs. F. Now, now, my angels. I want the gentleman to 
 hear you speak and sing. Eglantine {or whichever boy can 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE II 
 
 sing), sing that beautiful song I taught you about the violets 
 and streamlets and birdlets. 
 
 Eglantine (^singing to the tune of " The Last Rose of Sum- 
 mer,'^ All the children beat tune zulth their hands, canes, etc.). 
 
 Little Johnnie had a mirror, 
 
 And he ate the back all off — 
 Thinking rashly in his terror 
 
 It would cure the whooping-cough. 
 
 Some days later, Johnnie's mother, 
 Weeping, said to Mrs. Brown — 
 
 'Twas a chilly day for Johnny 
 When the mercury went down. 
 
 (^Emphasis on the word " down,'' with drop on heels by the 
 children. ) 
 
 Mrs. F. My child, what does this mean ? Such a horrid 
 song from your angelic lips ! But, sir, here you see individu- 
 ality, that delightful characteristic individuality. Marvelous 
 children ! Marvelous ! Now, Wake-robin {or any other), say 
 that charming piece — " The dove it coos and coos." 
 
 Wake- ROBIN {qoing to front and declaiming). 
 
 Old Noah he built himself an ark, 
 
 He built it all of hickory bark, 
 
 And when he found he had no sail. 
 
 He just ran up his old shirt-tail. ( Waves cane aloft.) 
 
 Ta-ra-ra ! 
 
 {All join in on last word.) 
 
 Mrs. F. That is not the piece I meant, my dading. I am 
 shocked, shocked ! Yet, sir, you see here the fire of genius. 
 Marvelous children ! Marvelous ! Now, Hydrangea, you sing 
 that lovely creation I wrote for you. I wrote it, sir, in the 
 twilight, as the fragrance of honeysuckle wafted in on the 
 balmy air. You can see by the poetical heights I reached, 
 how my soul was transported. 
 
 Hydrangea {stepping front and singing, all dancing up 
 and down, and all singing cJiorus). 
 
ti. FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 Oh, I went down South for to see my Sal, 
 (Chorus.) Sing Pol-ly-wol-ly-doo-dle all the day; 
 
 My Sal-ly am a spunk-y gal, 
 (C/iorus.) Sing Pol-ly-wol-ly-doo-dle all the day, 
 
 (Chorus.) Fare thee well, fare thee well, fare thee well, 
 My fairy fay, 
 
 For I'm going to Loui-si-a-na — 
 For to see my Su-sy-an-na, 
 Sing Pol-ly-wol-ly-doo-dle all the day* 
 
 [Words, together with music, are to be found in "The 
 Most Popular College Songs, ' ' price fifty cents, published 
 by Hifids, Noble and Eldredge.) 
 
 (Four smaller boys begin to play leapfrog, the sinallest boy 
 jumping last. Girls clap hands and sing " Polly-wolly,^* 
 etc. Mrs. F. stares in asto7iishment, wringing her hands 
 and showing every evidence of horror. At end of singing 
 a lull comes.) 
 
 Mrs. F. (during lull). Never, sir, never shall I take my 
 children again into such a wicked place as this. You have 
 exerted some villainous influence over them, turning my angels 
 into demons, that is, as near demons as my marvelous children 
 could be turned. But you have hurt yourself most, for now, 
 sir, I leave you ! You shall not exhibit my family ! Come, 
 mother's angels, we will return to our quiet, refined, esthetic 
 domicile. 
 
 ( Walks out majestically, children following, winking and 
 7vaving to audience and sittging " Pol-ly-7vol-ly,"etc. At 
 door smallest boy runs back and turns somersault.) 
 
 Loud. Marvelous children ! Marvelous ! 
 
 Bat. I wish I belonged to that quiet, refined, esthetic 
 domicile. 
 
 Loud. You do belong. All you need to look the part is 
 some lace on your pants. Marvelous children ! Marvelous ! 
 Trot on the next. 
 
 Bat. Number Three. 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 13 
 
 NO. Ill 
 
 Enter Pietro De Bianaco. Costmne : black velvet coat, 
 corduroy trousers, soft white shirt, red sash, red hand- 
 kerchief about neck, also one bound about head zvith soft 
 black hat drawn over it. 
 
 Loud {to Bat). Sure he hasn't a stilletto up his sleeve. 
 
 De B. [boiving low). I am de greata Pietro De Bianaco. 
 
 Loud. All right, Peela De Banana — what's your particular 
 lunacy ? 
 
 De B. I usa de voica vera fina. It is that you think I have 
 birda in my throata, eh — si, signor. 
 
 Loud. I wish I had a bird in mine, Peela, old boy — a hot 
 bird and a cold bottle. 
 
 De B. Non, non — I have no colda. I singa for you — you 
 see — so ? 
 
 Loud. Tune her up, old chap. 
 
 (Bat holds out hand for music. De B. stares, then 
 solemnly shakes hands.) 
 
 Bat. You ain't so bad, eh — so? But it's your music I 
 want for the pian guy, see ? 
 
 De B. Verra gooda. {^Hands mtisic to Bat, ivho carries 
 it to pianist. ) I singa . 
 
 {Singer should make own selection suited to voice.) 
 
 (Song introduced.) 
 
 Loud (applauding). Good ! Good ! 
 
 De B. (rubbing hands together delightedly). Eh — youlika? 
 
 Loud. Right you are, Peela. Fire away. 
 
 De B. (to piaTiist). Now I singa 
 
 (Song introduced.) 
 
 Loud. Come and see me to-morrow at ten, Peela. We'll 
 have a bottle and sign a contract — to suit me. 
 
 De B. Verra gooda. De Americano much kinda. Addio. 
 
 \_Exit De B. 
 
 Loud. That's braced me so that I can stand a freak. Turn 
 it loose, Bat. 
 
 Bat. Number Four. 
 
14 FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 NO. IV 
 
 Enter Miss Anise Elderbloom. Costume : silk dress a little 
 beJiiiui the fashion. Hat haiuhome but out of style. 
 Gray hair worn in spit curls on forehead. Spectacles. 
 
 Miss E. {walking to desk, lays do7vn card). Good-morning. 
 
 Loud. Good-morning. Are you 
 
 Miss E. Now, don't ask me if I am married. The first 
 tiling people say is — "You are married, of course." Why of 
 course ? Do I look married ? Have I that afraid-of-my-life 
 look that married women always have? Do I look as though 
 I sat up the night before patching my husband's trousers? Do 
 I have an anxious gaze as though John were going to come in 
 on me unawares and catch me {smirks coquettishly') flirting 
 with you ? In short, sir, would you take me for a simpleton ? 
 
 Loud. Excuse me, madam, or miss, if you prefer it, I am 
 a busy man. You are, I take it, an amateur who wants to hit 
 the boards. 
 
 Miss E. An amateur? No, indeed, sir, I am not an 
 amateur. 
 
 Loud. Ah-h ! What companies have you been in ? {Reads 
 card.) I don't recall the name. 
 
 Miss E. Sir, full many a flower is born to blush unseen, 
 though I am not one of them. I, sir, have appeared many 
 
 times with the famous Dramatic Company of the Club 
 
 of . {Give local club and home toivn.) In one drama 
 
 one of my lines was: "Is this the piano tuner?" I assure 
 you it brought down the house. Last Sunday afternoon I was 
 sitting (Loud speaks in low voice) no, sir, I was not reading 
 the almanac. I was talking to a friend — a bachelor friend, 
 who — well, who wouldn't be a bachelor long if I — but that's 
 beside the point. I saw your advertisement. Now I have 
 come to talk business. And first, I shall state myself plainly. 
 I shall expect to travel always in a private car. I shall have 
 my own dressing-room at the theatre. If you could find me a 
 very attractive Romeo, and assure me we could get first-class 
 scenery, I should appear first as Juliet. I have my own idea 
 of how it should be done. (Loud mumbles.) Sir, what did 
 you say ? 
 
 Loud. Anything else you want? 
 
 Miss E. Respectful treatment, sir, from everybody. I 
 come of a very distinguished family. My great-great-great- 
 grandfather on my stepfather's side was a direct descendant 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE I5 
 
 of Willie Shakespeare. You may have heard of Willie. Then 
 my mother's step-cousin's half-brothei's great-aunt by marriage 
 
 was a fourth cousin once removetl of . (^Give name of 
 
 some local actor.') To act is in my veins. I, sir, can act suc- 
 cessfully any character. I am versatile, very versatile. 
 
 Loud. Good ! We'll put you on first as a toe dancer. 
 Then you can do a song and dance ; later, an acrobatic stunt. 
 
 (Miss Yj. jumps about a foot from floor.) 
 
 Miss E. Sir, you are talking 
 
 Loud. I am, but not through my hat. I advertised for 
 vaudeville artists. Are you 
 
 Miss E. Sir ! Vaudeville ! I ? I ? 
 
 Loud. Vaudeville stunts are what they usually do in 
 vaudeville. 
 
 Miss E. You insult me, sir. I don't do stunts. I want 
 to act. 
 
 Loud. Then I fear that the Loud Vaudeville agency will 
 be compelled to do without your services. 
 
 Miss E. Why didn't you say so at once ? Why did you let 
 me waste my time ? 
 
 Loud (asule). Now for some fun. Wasted ? Ah, don't 
 say wasted, fair lady. Think of my pleasure just to hear you 
 talk. 
 
 Miss E. Well {coquettislily), not exactly wasted. {Shakes 
 finger at him indulgently.') You're a flatterer, I fear, sir. 
 
 Loud. 1 am a man^ bright star. And what man could 
 resist {^Advances tozvard her.) 
 
 Miss E. Halt! Halt! I dare not encourage you. {Trips 
 toward exit.) Good-day, sir. 
 
 Loud {striking an attitude). Of all sad words of tongue or 
 pen {Pursues her, making fun for the office force.) 
 
 Miss E. Pursue me not ! A step further and I shall seek 
 aid of the police. I call upon these people to witness that I 
 never encouraged you — that I never promised to marry you. 
 
 \_Exit Miss E. 
 
 Loud. Well, wouldn't that jar you ? 
 
 Bat. She ain't so slow. 'I'he old girl was guyin' you for 
 wantin' her to do a ballet stunt. 
 
 Loud (^returning to table, picks up card). Good Lord I 
 I place her now. She's worth a cool million. She was sued 
 once for breach-of-promise. Antl I could have starred her 
 
l6 FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 and roped in a hunk of that miilion ! (Si///^s to seat overcome.') 
 Here, Bat, bring me a fan. {IVhoIe force rush ivithfaus.') 
 
 Bat. You can bet you wouldn't have got in any graft on 
 tliat old slvui. Wake up ! (^Goes toiaard entrance.') Number 
 Five. 
 
 NO. V 
 
 Enter George Washington Lincoln. Costume : large plaid 
 suit, pink shirt, brigJit purple tie, yellow shoes, red hose, 
 strata hat with yelloiv band. Mulatto color in com- 
 plexion, fuiich tnore realistic and impressive than the 
 black usually used. 
 
 George. Hello, boss. I'se lookin' foh a job. What? 
 Oh, anyt'ing at all ; president of a steal trust {icinks) or 
 singin' coon songs. 'Tain't no diffahrance as 1 c'n see: I'se 
 alius broke de iiex' day. Dat's mah tempahnienl. De Judge 
 ast me las' week how much money I spent a day. " Well," sez 
 I, " it's jes' accordin' — five cents or fifty thousan' dollahs, de- 
 penden' on how much loose change 1 has in my pocket." Mah 
 girl's pooty expensive — same as every fellah's girl. I tole her 
 yestiday she was a-bleedin' me. " Go long, dude," she said, 
 " you'se de kin' of a beet dat don't bleed." An' boss, I didn't 
 undahstan' de allusion. " What," says I, "am de connexion 
 dereof ? " An' she says : " It's no use explainin' to a stiff so 
 dead he couldn't hyah de las' bugle — so go long, coon." She 
 gave force to dis razoomay wid a hambone and some pahfumed 
 aigs, so now I'm a-lookin' foh a girl. 
 
 [Song introduced.) 
 
 Funny, how de presence of de wimmen do curdle up de 
 gray mattah in a fellah's hai(i. Las' night I went to call on 
 Miss Brown. She sat on mah lap, of cohse. Suddintly she 
 said : " Oh, Bill, whar dat extry little buttonliole in yoah coat, 
 de buttonhole you had made foh to weah a boquet in ? " An' 
 I says: " Mus' be in my othah coat, honey," and sat and 
 squeezed her till most mahnin' ! Whar's de joke on me? 
 Well, I ain't got no coat wid an extry buttonhole, I ain't got 
 no othah coat at all, an' moahovah, mah name ain't Bill. But 
 yuh jes' wait till I cotch dat coon, an' he'll have more'n one 
 extry hole in him coat — yes, sah. 
 
 (Song introduced.) 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE I7 
 
 Yestiddy mah lil' brother came home from school. 
 "Gawge," he says, "what's disgrammatical 'bout dis hyah 
 sentence? — De horse an de cow is in de pasture?" "Good 
 Lord ! " says I, "an' youah goin' to de [local) high school ! 
 You — Lloyd Garrison Lincoln, gettin' de education youah 
 brudder Gawge escaped from. Wliat's disgrammatical wid 
 that sentence? Suahah yuh don' value de respec' dat's paid to 
 de ladies. It should read : De cow and de horse is in de 
 pasture. De ladf s spoke of first, yuh igoramphus ! " 
 Talkin' of ladies, am you er rooting foh de sufferngettes ? At 
 fust, when I hearn dat wohd, I thought it was some new kin' 
 of gas jet. {Stops. Opens mouth and eyes wide.') Ha — ha ! 
 Ha ! ha ! {Doubles up with laughter.) I nebber seen de joke 
 of mah thinkin' dat till dis berry minnit. Gas jets ! Of 
 cohse ! — only dese not new gas jets. Same ole gas jets dat 
 man's been sufferin' undah sence Adam. 
 
 (Song introduced : goes off stage on last line of last verse. 
 Local hits and timely jokes may be introduced throughout.) 
 
 Loud {to stenographer). Book him. {To Bat.) Any 
 teams out there ? 
 
 Bat. This number is, — or my forgettery's better'n my 
 memriocity — Number Six. 
 
 NO. VI 
 
 Enter Frisky Dewdrop and Fluffy Flutter. Costumes : 
 long coats, big hats, all very swagger and actressy. Both 
 rush toivard Loud who meets them half-way. 
 
 Frisky. Hello, Luke,"do say that you're glad to see us and 
 that you're not all booked. 
 
 Fluffy. If you are, Luke, I'll — cry. 
 
 Loud {holding out arms). Come, dears, both of you weep 
 on your Lukie's shoulder. 
 
 Frisky. No briny baths for mine. How's the booking? 
 We've shaken Tom Aiken. Do you know that — I was going 
 to say pig — but truth compels me to say {spells) h-o-g ? He 
 has treated us beastly. We let him make the contracts and 
 
 Fluffy {tearfully). He took two-thirds and divided one- 
 third between us ! 
 
 Loud. That's sinii)ly high finance. Well, let him slide. 
 
l8 FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 You're team enough off the stage. What you got now — a 
 dance, song ? 
 
 Frisky. A sketch. 
 
 Loud. Well, go at it. I'm short on sketches — everybody 
 seems to be going it alone; if you're passable 
 
 Fluffy. You horrid ! Passable ? And to think how you 
 used to hold my hand. 
 
 Loud. Your hand, Fluff? (^Pitts arvi aroiuid her.) 
 
 Frisky. Ring off, spoons. I'm for business. The ex- 
 chequer is low. Now, Luke, I'll hike to the dressing-room. 
 When Fluff says "good housekeeper," you ring the bell. 
 That's my cue. ^Exit Frisky. 
 
 Fluffy {bringing tivo chairs well forward to c. , facing slightly 
 together). Work your imagination, Luke. This is supposed 
 to be a beautiful parlor in a swell hotel, — a private parlor with 
 all the gilt and hangings and mirrors, etc., etc. I'm Miss 
 Nathalie Lamont, on a visit to the city, see? Frisk is my in- 
 tended mother-in-law, Mrs. Eben Alexander Hodges. {She 
 removes coat, revealing handsome evening dress.) Oh, yes. 
 It is entitled " Two hearts that beat as one." Well, here goes. 
 
 {Boius to Loud /'/; mock gravity.) 
 
 Fluffy {as Nathalie ; takes letter from chatelaine afid 
 looks it over). Horrors ! Ned's mother is coming to call. I 
 have a trembling all-over feeling whenever I think of Ned's 
 mother. h\ the first place, he's so horribly polite when he 
 speaks of her, a sort-of-I-don't-dare-be-any-other-way polite. 
 Then he asked me if I could cook. He said he didn't care, 
 but that his mother wanted to know. Then he tried to find 
 out if I could knit. Horrors! knit! Who ,^;///j- nowadays? 
 I told him to tell her that 1 was frivolous and fluttery and — 
 and pretty. Oh, dear ! why do men have mothers? It's all 
 right for girls, but men should have been born in incubators. Ned 
 has a mastiff dog, and I agreed to be nice to that ; and to find a 
 place for a box of white mice, and a parrot, too. I even con- 
 sented to a goat. But I do draw the line at a — mother ! 
 Especially a mother who wants her son to marry a wife who 
 can hem linen and make jelly and knit, — a tiresome creature 
 called a good housekeeper. {Sits.) 
 
 Enter Frisky, as Mrs. Eben Alexander Hodges. She now 
 wears a large black hat and tailor suit, looking the grand 
 dame in place of the actress. 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE I9 
 
 Frisky (^as Mrs. H.). Is this Miss Nathalie Lament ? 
 
 Nath. (rising). It is. And this, I infer, is Mrs. Hodges. 
 Will you be seated ? 
 
 Mrs. H. {seating herself and gazing at her through 
 lorgnette'). Yes, I am Mrs. Eben Alexander Hodges. I un- 
 derstand that my son Eben Burton Hodges contemplates a 
 union with you. Do you fully realize the responsibilities of 
 married life? A man is a mystery to most women. But that's 
 because most women are fools. They are chattering, silly, vain 
 peacocks. And they are extravagant. They know how to do 
 nothing themselves and they allow their servants to run their 
 houses and waste their husband's incomes. And if their serv- 
 ants walk out on some fool pretext that servants always find for 
 walking out at inconvenient moments, they are helpless. I 
 never had any trouble understanding Eben Alexander, nor in 
 managing my house and my servants. But then / am an 
 unusual woman. (Straightens up still more, stares impudently 
 through lorgnette.') First, can you cook? 
 
 Nath. Y-e-s. 
 
 Mrs. H. IVhat czw you cook? 
 
 Nath. I can make lovely fudge; and — oh, yes, beautiful 
 shrimp wiggle. 
 
 Mrs. H. Fudge! Shrimp wiggle ! (Closes lorgnette with 
 snap.) Do you think that Edward Burton can live on fudge 
 and — shrimp wiggle? 
 
 Nath. I — I can toast marshmallows, too. 
 
 Mrs. H. Is there any sensible thing you can cook? Can 
 you cook cabbage and corn beef — the second cut of tlie rattle 
 rand is the only proper cut of corn beef. Can you cook leg of 
 lamb? sirloin of beef? ribs of pork? poultry? fish? Can 
 you make pies and cakes, ices, puddings, jellies, custards, 
 souflles, omelets, preserves (Nath. whistles in dismay), jams, 
 butters, marmalades, pickles, sauces, relishes, salads, ragouts, 
 croquettes, entrees, soups? (Should be spoken very quickly.) 
 
 Nath. (eagerly). I can make soup. 
 
 Mrs. H. (sweeping her with lorgnette). How ? 
 
 Nath. Heat the can, add water, and — serve. 
 
 Mrs. H. (groaning ; voice tragic). And you intend to feed 
 my son, Edward Burton, on canned soup and shrimp wiggle? 
 Why, will you please inform me, are you contemplating mar- 
 riage with Edward Burton ? 
 
 Nath. I — I — love — him. 
 
 Mrs. H. Love him? (Rises majestically.) Can you feed 
 
20 PUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 him is the question. It's all very well to love him while \ feed 
 him ; but when you're married you'll find that loving him with- 
 out feeding him will end in 
 
 Nath. What? 
 
 Mrs. H. In his packing you home to your mother. 
 
 Nath. (rising). I — I — haven't any — mother. 
 
 Mrs. H. Then to your father. 
 
 Nath. {sobbing into handkerchief). I — I haven't — any — 
 fa-ther. 
 
 Mrs. H. {in despairing voice). So Edward Burton must 
 bear the burden all alone. Never ! Never with my consent ! 
 Not one dollar of our money shall he have if he makes — yes, 
 such an ass of himself. And how can he on a hundred dollars 
 a month keep a wife who can only cook — shrimp wiggle ! 
 {^Great scorn.) Who supports you now? Who keeps you in 
 your wicked idleness? 
 
 Nath. I — I — have money. My father left me — a million 
 dollars. 
 
 Mrs. H. But — but Edward Burton called you — a poor 
 girl ! 
 
 Nath. I am. A girl who has neither father nor mother is 
 poor if she has a billion dollars. 
 
 Mrs. H. {suddenly beaming with ecstasy ; voice purring). 
 Come here, my child. Here is your mother. {Opens arms 
 7vide.) Lay your head on my motherly bosom. {Aside.) A 
 million dollars ! What if she is an idiot ! {Aloud.) Yes, 
 dear child, press your head to my welcoming heart. 
 
 Nath. {aside; in Mrs. H.'s arms). She's a pill. But 
 oh ! I do love Ned. 
 
 Mrs. H. I shall take you home with me for lunch. 
 ' Nath. {making a wry face). Will — will Ned be there ? 
 
 Mrs. H. He will. (Nath. puts on long coat; aside.) 
 Um-m ! I'll see that he is. Um-m ! A million dollars ! 
 {Aloud.) Come, dear daughter. 
 
 Nath. {follo7ving her). Two hearts that beat as one. 
 
 ( They exit at entrance door, almost immediately rushing in 
 again.) 
 
 Frisky. Is it all right, Luke ? 
 Fluffy. Luke, dear, don't say no. 
 
 (LoVT> puts an arm about each. Bat hugs stenographer.) 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 21 
 
 Loud. You're all right. I'll send you out on the road next 
 week. Gee ! Frisk, it's the first time I ever hugged you. 
 
 Frisky. You can bet it's the last time, too. You're putting 
 in business that doesn't belong. {Slaps him lightly.^ 
 
 Fluffy. Pshaw ! It's just old Luke. Who minds old 
 Luke ? 
 
 Loud {bending as though to kiss her). Yes, who does? 
 (^Girls break away and run out laughing.') Um-m ! Who 
 minds old Luke? That's what comes from being too nu- 
 merous ! 
 
 Bat. Ready ? 
 
 Loud. Shove 'em along. Who minds old Luke? — the 
 dickens ! I say. 
 
 Bat. Number Seven. 
 
 NO. VII 
 
 Enter Madame Sylva. Costume : ha?tdsome evening dress ^ 
 long eve?iing coat, large hat. Loud springs up andmeets 
 her ha(f<vay. 
 
 Sylva. I fear I've come at a bad time, Luke. 
 
 Loud. So you haven't come to apply? 
 
 Sylva (^laughing). Oh, no. But you have no time for so- 
 cial visits. I'll come again. 
 
 Loud (Jianding her a chair). I'll take time. I'm tired as 
 a canal mule ! Jiminy ! I wish you'd sing me something 
 restful. 
 
 Sylva. You poor boy I Sure I will. {Turns to pianist.) 
 Let's have "Love's Old Sweet Dream." 
 
 Loud. Good ! Lower the lights. Bat. I Avant the whole 
 effect. 
 
 (^If possible, lights should be lowered to resemble tiuilight. ) 
 
 {Song introduced.) 
 
 Loud. That's the stuff. One more, Sylva. 
 
 {Song introduced ; " Baby' s Boat,'' or other selection to suit 
 voice. Sylva rises on last verse.) 
 
 Loud {remaining seated in dreamy attitude). You're an 
 angel, sure. 
 
21 FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 Sylva {joalking toward exit'). Nut yet, Luke; nor very 
 soon, 1 hope: [^Exit Sylva, 
 
 Loud (j-isi/ig). Tlie lights, Bat. Back to the grind. 
 
 {Lights go up.') 
 
 Bat. Number Eight. 
 
 NO. VIII 
 
 {Taken from "Mrs. Alderman Casey ^^ ; author, Mrs. 
 Irene Stoddard Capivell ; publisJier, J?. F. Fenno ijt' Co. 
 Used by permission of author and publisher.) 
 
 Enter Mrs. Bridget Casey. Costume : red hair hanging in 
 little curls either side of the face. Small green bonnet 7vith 
 little feathers that " bob " ivhen she talks. A greefi dress, 
 preferably xvith train. White kid gloves. 
 
 Loud {t-ushingto c). Bridget Casey — on my soul ! 
 
 {^Extends hand.) 
 
 Mrs. C. And is it only shakin' hands ye'U be afther? 
 Shure, an' I kissed ye in your mither's ahrnis, an' Oi'U kiss ye 
 now. 
 
 {Resounding smack. Loud picks her tip and sivings her 
 around.) 
 
 Loud. And are you thinking of going on the stage ? 
 
 Mrs. C. Goin' on the stoige ? Shure Oi'm on. Oi'm the 
 succiss of the sayson. Haven't ye heard of Mrs. Alderman 
 Casey who's doin' the famous monologue at Keith's? 
 
 I^OUD. What ! You're not Mrs. Alderman Casey, the top 
 liner ? 
 
 Mrs. C. {holditig out dress and curtseying). Oi am thot. 
 Now ye sate yourself comfortable loike whilst Oi show ye how 
 'tis done. {She turiis toward Bat, who is standing at atten- 
 tion. Whispers. He brings ttuo chairs to c, and well 
 front. Mrs. C gives them a final arrangement. Then she 
 goes toivard entrance door, turns and walks t07vard chairs. ) 
 Good-marrnin', Mrs. Flanigan. Oi tliought Oi'd dhrop in 
 fer a minnut to see how ye'd be lukin' the daay. 'Tis a grand 
 day outside, barrin' the rain. Yis, Oi'U be sittin' down a bit. 
 
 Oh, Mrs. Flanigan, darlint, Oi do be afther havin' the 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 23 
 
 toime iv me loife since (3i saw ye lasht. Phwat do ye think? 
 O vin^o a progrissive euchre parrthy last Chuseday an 
 phwifs more, Oi fuk a proize ! Phwat do ye think o that? 
 An' me that niver had a cyard in me fisht before ! 
 
 {Much laughing.) 
 
 Monday a week ago Oi was a-doin' me washin' phwin the 
 bil rang at the front dure. Oi shuk the suds of^ me hands 
 Zipes lands on dress), and wint to the dure an' 'twas Rosy 
 an' Annie Gilhooley to see would Mary Ann buy a t.ckut fe 
 the progrissive euchre parrthy that the ladies of St. Pathuck s 
 was gittin' up fer the Arrphin Assoylim. 
 
 Mary Ann wasn't hoame, but Oi tuk a tickut fer her, bein 
 that sorry fer the Arrphins. rc.„?-'d7 
 
 .' An' woan't ye take a tickut fer yersilf, Mrs. Casey? siz 
 
 Annie Gilhooley. ^ c ^> ■ r\\ 
 
 " Oi never played a game iv cyards in me loite, siz ui. 
 " Git Mary Ann to tache ye ! " siz she. r^-,A . ^^ 
 
 Well, Oi didn't think Oi'd be goin', but Oi sid Oi d take 
 a tickut. So Oi wint up-shtairs to git me purrse and phwin Oi 
 kirn down they was talkin' quiet like, and Oi heard Rosy say 
 to Annie • " Ye doan't belave she'll coom, do ye ? 
 
 " No indade," siz Annie, " Mary Ann wouldn't lave her, but 
 
 it's wan more tickut sold." , , j tvt^, 
 
 Mary Ann lave me indade ! Shure Oi was that mad, Mrs. 
 Flanigan, Oi shtud there in the hall wid me hands goin this 
 way (business with hands) fer foive minnuts, they was that 
 achin' to be bumpin' their sassy bids togUher. But Oi siz to 
 mesilf " Oi'U fool yez this toime 1 Oi'll show ye that Bridget 
 Casey' '11 do as she plazes, an' she'll not be axin' permissioii 
 of Mary Ann ayther." So whin Mary Ann kim hoame, Oi 
 gave her the tickut Oi'd been afther buyin' fer her, but niver a 
 wurrd did Oi say about me own. 
 
 After supper Oi siz, " Phwoy doan't yez git out the cyards 
 and play a game of euchre? Oi'd loike to be lukm on, 
 
 ''' Yis," siz Mary Ann, "Larry an' Oi will tache Patsy an' 
 
 «"y[s?" siz Oi to me.ilf, "an' ye'U tache yer ma too, all 
 unbeknownst to ye." , 
 
 So they got the cyards an' laid thim out. An Larry, lie 
 
 towld thim a lot about kings and quanes, an' bow-wows, an 
 
24 FUN IN A THKATRICAl. OFFICE 
 
 thriimptets an' parses aa' ardhers, till lue hid was in a whurrl. 
 Thin they dilt the cyards an' began playin'. " Huh, " siz 01 
 to niesilf, "that's aisy enough," an' if it hadn't been fer givin' 
 mesilf away Oi'd have luk a hand mesilf. 
 
 Well, come a Chuseday, Mary Ann got diissed an' went 
 airly. The minnut she was out iv the dure Oi trun niesilf into 
 nie bist duds, tuk the baby nixt dure, an' it wasn't tin minnuts 
 befoor Oi was on me way to the parrthy. Whin Oi wint in a 
 gairrl give me a phwoite tickut wid a pink shtring in ut. 
 
 " What's this? " Oi siz. 
 
 "It's your score cyard," she siz, "an' tills ye the number 
 iv yer table." 
 
 Shure enough, there it was all printed out : Table No. 8. 
 So Oi squazed ine way round the room — 'twas the big town 
 hall where the Woman's Club mates, ye know — till Oi found a 
 table wid 8 on ut, an' there was three ladies a-sittin' at ut. 
 Oi sat down in the other chair an' siz Oi to mesilf, " Phwat's 
 the matter wid Bridget Casey? " 
 
 After a phwoile the tables was all filled up, and a bill rang, 
 an' they comminced the game. The firrst thing they did was 
 to ax me would Oi cut, an' Oi had np more oidee phwat they 
 mint than annything. But Oi wasn't goin' to bethray me igno- 
 rance, so Oi siz, " Ye'U have to ixcuse me, but Oi forgot to 
 bring me scissors, so Oi'll lave some one ilse to do the cut- 
 tin'," Oi siz. Them three wimmen looked at aitch other an' 
 laughed a bit, but the wan that sat opposite me was a rale 
 lady, fer she just smoiled as swate at me as ye plaze, an' she siz, 
 " Oi'll cut fer ye ;" an' she just raiched out her hand an' lifted 
 a few cyards ahf the tap iv the pack an' turrned thim over. 
 Thin the lady to the left iv me done the same, an' thin she 
 took the cyards and dilt thim. Thm they all sid, " Oi pass," 
 an' Oi sid the same, an' the lady that dilt tuk the cyard that 
 was on top iv the pack an' pit down wan out iv her hand. 
 Thin we aitch laid down a cyard. The lady furninst me, the 
 swate smilin' one, swiped them in, an' they all hiked at me. 
 Oi throid to luk plissant an' knowin', but divil a bit did Oi 
 know phwat they was lukin' at, at ahl. At last the swate lady 
 siz : 
 
 " Ye tuk the thrick, it's your lade." 
 
 " 'Twas you tuk ut," Oi siz. 
 
 "Oi'm yer pardner," she siz. " Oi tuk ut fer both iv us. 
 Will ye j)laze lay down a cyard ? " 
 
 So Oi done ut. 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE !£ 
 
 " Howld oil there ! " scrames wan iv the wimmim ; " ye 
 rayniggered." 
 
 ** Yer a loiar ! " Oi siz. " Oi niver done sich a thing in me 
 loife ! Oi'm a daycint, lispictable wummun, so Oi am/' 
 
 She was gettin* purple in the face she was that mad, an' so 
 was Oi, you may belave. But me pardner siz, awful soothin' 
 loike, "Ye sliud have played that cyard on the f hirst thrick 
 instid iv the thrump." 
 
 " Shure Oi beg parrdon, mum," Oi siz. "'Tis the fhirst 
 toime Oi iver was mixed up wid the loikes iv this, and if Oi 
 git out iv it aloive, it'll be me last. Go aisy wid me, ladies." 
 
 Well, Oi got on all right till Oi had to dale. An' oh, 
 murrther, Mrs. Flanigan ! Oi narely doid in the attimpt. 
 'Tvvas the furrst toime Oi had the slippery little divils in me 
 fisht, barrin' jist foive at a toime, an' me hands shuk so Oi 
 dliropped thim all oaver the flure ivery toime Oi throid to 
 chuffle thim togither. Thin phwin Oi kim to dale Oi cudn't 
 count thim roight to save me loife, an' it was a turrible toime 
 Oi had. The purrspirashin was roonin' down my face. Phwin 
 Oi had thim dilt at last, " Phwat's the thrump?" siz me 
 pardner. 
 
 " Ye can sarrch me ! " Oi siz. 
 
 " Turrn up the cyard, till we see ! " siz she. 
 
 " Oh, is it that ye mane? " Oi siz, an' Oi done ut. 
 
 " Oi'll assist ye," she siz. 
 
 " Thank ye kindly, lady," Oi siz; "Oi'm shure it's nadin* 
 ut Oi am." 
 
 Thill, all at wanst, a bill rang, an' they all shtopped playin' 
 till a lady kim around an' tuk the little phwoite tickuts an' 
 squinched a hoale out iv thim wid a little thing loike the con- 
 duchtors do be havin' an the sthrate cyarrs. She was goin' by 
 widout seein' me, but Oi didn't intind to be missin' anything, 
 so Oi gave her moine an' she pit a noice, nate little hoale in 
 ut. Then the two ladies that had been sittin' aitch soide iv 
 me got up an' wint to the nixt table. Oi was goin' alahng, too, 
 but my pardner siz, "Oh, no. You an' Oi shtayhere; but 
 Oi'm not your pardner nixt toime." 
 
 "Oh, it's sorry Oi am fer that," siz Oi, an' Oi was that 
 same too, fer the new wan was a sharp-faced wumman wid 
 sh[)ecks, an' she near tuk the hid ahf me, jist becase Oi laid 
 down me joaker an her ace. 
 
 " That thrick was ours alriddy ! " she scramed. " What 
 do ye mane by wayshtin' thrumps loike that ! " An' she was 
 
26 FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 that mad that phwin the cyanls was dilt iiixt toiine she siz, 
 " Oi'll play ut alone," siie siz. Well, Oi was willin', fer O' 
 didn't want to be kilt intoirely. So she played widout me, an' 
 samed much plazed wid hersilf. 
 
 " Oi made four," she siz, an' just thin a bill rang ag'in. 
 
 " Doan't move till ye git your poonch," she siz to me. 
 
 " Poonch is ut ! Indade an' Oi'll not. The thoughts iv ut 
 is most revivin'." So Oi sat vvaitin' fer the poonch, but sorra 
 a bit was brought round our way. The lady kim round an' 
 pit another hoale in me tickut, an' Oi seen me pardner walkin' 
 ahf to the nixt table. Another lady kim uj) to me an' siz, 
 "Ye belang to thet table oaver there. Oi take this place 
 now." 
 
 " Oi'm waitin' fer me poonch," Oi siz. 
 
 " Oh, didn't ye get any ? " she siz. " Here ! give me yer 
 cyard ! " an' she snatched ut out iv me hand. In a minnut she 
 was back wid ut an' siz, " That's all roight. Ye belang at 
 table number sivin, now." 
 
 "Oh!" siz Oi to mesilf, "it's there Oi'll be gittin' the 
 poonch, Oi hope it's good an' shlrong, fer Oi'm gittin' a 
 foine thurrst on me." 
 
 But, if ye'll belave me, Mrs. Flanigan, Oi didn't git no 
 poonch at ahl at ahl, though Oi waited fer ut at ivery table, an' 
 they was always tillin' me to wait fer ut, an' showin' me tickut, 
 but all Oi got was more hoales in the same, but niver a dhrap 
 of poonch, though me mouth was as dhry as a fither tick. 
 
 At wan iv the tables me pardner passed me over the two 
 cyards they kipt the score wid, an' siz, " Will ye plaze kape 
 the score ? " 
 
 vVell, Oi hadn't been watchin' how 'twas done, but Oi 
 thought Oi could larrn, so Oi w^atched the other wumman that 
 was kapin' the score fer the other soide an' phwiniver Oi seen 
 her fix her score cyards Oi done moine the same, an' Oi flat- 
 ther mesilf 'twas all roight. 
 
 Aflher a phwoile Oi rached the table where Mary Ann was, 
 an' Rosy Gilhooley ! An' 'twud have done ye good to have 
 seen thim, Mrs. Flanigan ! Faith, Oi shuk the table wid 
 laughin' at Mary Ann. Her eyes were loike sassers. 
 
 " Whoy, Maw Casey," she scrayched. " Phwat in the name 
 iv sinse are ye doin' here ? " 
 
 " Shure Oi'm injoyin' mesilf the same as you," Oi siz. 
 
 Just thin she caught sight iv me tickut that was hangin' to 
 me brist-pin. 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 2/ 
 
 "Ye doau't mane to say ye've bated all thim games ! " siz 
 she. "An' you wid niver a cyard in your hand befoor." 
 
 " 'Tis high score she has as shure as ye're born ! " siz Rosy. 
 " 'Tis a fool fer luck." 
 
 " Manin' me, Oi suppose," Oi siz. "Shure 'tis not all the 
 fools has the luck thin," fer her tickut hadn't half a dozen 
 hoales in ut. 
 
 Mary Ann was me pardner, an' shure an' Oi wasn't afraid 
 iv Mary Ann. So Oi played aisy loike, as if Oi'd been 
 playin' ahl me loife. Oi hild ahl the pitcher cyards an' the 
 joaker ivery toime, an' we tuk so many thricks that Mary Ann 
 was dancin' up an' down in her chair wid deloight. 
 
 " Maw, ye're all roight ! " she siz. " Ye're a pache ! " she 
 siz, an' Rosy Gilhooley was near crazy. 
 
 Well, afther that they kim around an' tuk up the tickuts. 
 Mary Ann wroate me name on moine. 
 
 "Now," siz Oi to mesilf, "'tis the poonch that's comin', 
 shure." But 'twas nothin' but cahfee, wid sandwiches an' 
 oice crame. An' phwoilst we was aytin' ut a man got up on a 
 chair, an' towld ahl who had proizes, an' phwat d'ye think? 
 
 " Mrs. Casey," he siz, " has high score, and furrst proize ! " 
 
 Moy ! But 'twas a proud day fer the Caseys. The ould 
 man's not done talkin' iv ut yet, an' the b'ys howled till ye 
 cud hear thim a block phwin Oi kim hoame wid ut. (^Jiises.) 
 'Tis a foine silver butther dish, Mrs. Flanigan. Kim oaver 
 an' ate ahf it tomorer ! (^End of sketch.) 
 
 Loud. Will you kiss me again, Bridget Casey, and tell me 
 that you're mine for the season ? 
 
 Mrs. C. Oi will that (Loud swings her around^ fer a 
 hundred a wake. 
 
 Loud. Whew ! Well, the Irish come high, but we must 
 have them. 
 
 Mrs. C. Shure an' ye must or ye would have no policeman 
 or alderman in the land. Well, good-bye till Oi kim to sign 
 me conthract ; ye have throuble ahead by tlie looks iv the 
 room outside. \^Exit Mrs. C. 
 
 Loud. Trouble ! That doesn't begin to spell it. 
 
 Bat. Number Nine ! 
 
 NO. IX 
 
 Enter Jan Getupangitski. Costume : long hair falling to 
 (Oat collar. Wide Windsor tie. Black frock coat, large 
 
28 FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 chrysaiithemtan in buttonhole. Carries violin, cello, cor- 
 net, or some musical instrument. 
 
 Bat. Here's a guy who can't do anything but jabber. 
 
 (^Hands Loud card. Jan smiles and bows.') 
 
 Loud {spelling). Jan Getupangitslu. All right. 
 
 (Ji'Iakes motion of playing. Jan bows many times.) 
 
 {Instrumental solo introduced.) 
 
 Loud {at close itidicates that another solo is wanted). 
 Tune her up, old chap. 
 
 {Bowing on Jan's part and another solo introduced.) 
 
 Loud {handing a card to Bat). Here, give him this. He 
 can get some one to read it. They're not so slow when it 
 comes to dollars. {To stenographer.) Book him. 
 
 \_Exit Jan. 
 
 Bat. Number Ten. 
 
 NO. X 
 
 Enter Mrs. Rulethe Roost. Should be taken by a man. 
 Costume : cook's print dress, very short ; red stockings, 
 red ribbon tied in big bow around neck, sleeves rolled up. 
 Red hair — regulation cook' s wig. Figure should be made 
 up to look very stout — large hips and bust. Mrs. R. 
 walks to c. of stage and glares at Loud. 
 
 Mrs. R. What the divil are you looking at me for ! 
 Waitin' for me card? Well, I'm a cook — and a good one, be 
 gob ! Me motty is boss the household before it bosses you. 
 But I'm sick to the pit of me stummick through to me back- 
 bone of a kitchen. To be star of one house, though it be a 
 palace on Holton Street {local street is preferable) is not me 
 due. No, be gob ! I get the slang from our showfur 
 (chauffeur). I meself am a perfeck lady. And I proved it to 
 me mistress's satisfaction only last week. She said I was not, 
 and I ups and knocks her down and gives her a black eye and 
 a lip as big as a chunk of stewed beef. "Not a perfeck lady, 
 eh ? " I cried. " You say that again, be gob ! and I'll lay you 
 up for a twelvemonth." And I would and don't you forget it. 
 Not a perfeck lady ! indeed ! {Facial expressions and gestures 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 29 
 
 should enliven the account.^ But now 1 wants to go before the 
 footligiits and show me prowess and refinement. I've attended 
 all the vaudeville that's high class and suited to a lady, and I 
 tells you that I've got a stunt that'll knock 'em all silly. {Ad- 
 vances to tahle.^ Silly ? {^Founds fist on table.) Be gob ! 
 They'll have to go so far back and sit down you couldn't 
 see 'em with a tel-e-scope. Now {^speaks very loud), I'll show 
 you how ' tis done. {She unwraps big bundle that she carries, 
 takes out bread board and lays it oti table. Brandishes roll- 
 ing pin, lays it on board. Lifts up bucket and takes from it 
 chunk of dough. Cotton batting answers very 7vell for this 
 — and slaps do7un on board, throiving bucket so that it lies on 
 line betiveen Loud and Bat. Begins to knead vigorously, 
 jumping up with each move and coming down hard. After a 
 few moments stops, places hands on hips, feet far apart.') 
 Now me idee in the real vaudeville is to have the butcher boy 
 come in at this point and start a scrap with me. And I lands 
 him one in the face with me dough — see? {Throtvs piece of 
 dough.) And I gets the best of it, of course. The star always 
 do. Then in comes the grocery boy and steps all unbeknownst 
 to him on the dough that lies on the floor. He flops down and 
 I, to make things exciting, flay him with me rollin' pin. 
 {^Brandishes pin.) He yells bloody murder and I — now what 
 in the divil do I do? {Stops to think.) Laugh! (Slaps 
 thigh, raising leg high.) Be gob ! Laugh as I naturally 
 would. (Loud motions to Bat, who crosses toivard him afid 
 falls over bucket.) Be gob! the act to hand. {Turns, 
 starts in on Bat ivith rolling pin.) 
 
 Bat. Murder! Murder! She's killing me. Help! 
 Help! 
 
 (LOTJD grabs Mrs. R. and throxvs her out of door. Bat 
 snatches her dough, board, etc., and throtvs them after 
 her. Starts toward entrance door to call next. Reenter 
 Mrs. R., singing.) 
 
 (Sotig and dance introduced. At close strikes tragic attitude 
 and recites from Hamlet.) 
 
 And so, without more circumstance at all, 
 
 I hold it fit that we shake fists and part : 
 
 You, as your business and desire shall point you ; 
 
 {^Points downward. ) 
 
30 FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 For every man liath business and desire, 
 Sucli as it is ; and for my own poor part, 
 Look you, I'll go pray. 
 
 [Raises skirts, takes off wig a?id waves it in adieu. Exit. 
 The action throughout should be stcn/t and easy. A star 
 part in capable hands. As much depends on business 
 zuhich can be tvorked out only by the actor himself, it 
 should not be given to a pure amateur.') 
 
 Loud {to ste^iographer). Book him ; the name's . 
 
 ( Give real name. ) 
 
 Bat. You ain't goin' to hire that stiff! What can he do? 
 
 Loud. You, for one thing. 
 
 Bat {s flickering). Number 'Leven. 
 
 NO. XI 
 
 {Number eleven should be a sketch given by two or more. 
 In the original "A letter from home '^ ivas presented. 
 The lines here giveti were written to introduce that sketch. 
 Any sketch not to exceed tiventy minutes and needing no 
 scenery may be used, the opening lines changed to suit. 
 It might be well to alloiv the persons who are to take 
 part to choose their own sketch.) 
 
 Enter Dorothy. Costume as required in '' A letter from 
 home. ' ' 
 
 Dor. Hello, Luke. We want to catch the 2: 15 train for 
 Haverill {any local suburb), so I'll explain our setting and get 
 busy. Ned is "father " and I'm "daughter," as usual. The 
 setting represents a very swell Fifth Avenue Mansion, also as 
 usual. [Arranges chairs as ivanted. Seats herself.) Here 
 goes, Luke. Ring bell, please, for Ned's cue, 
 
 Ned enters as Caleb, and sketch begins. 
 
 [Sketch introduced.) 
 
 Dor. [at close, folloiving Ned toivard exit). Write us, 
 Luke ; we just must get that train. 
 
 \_Exeunt Dor. atid Ned. 
 Clara. What are the names? 
 Loud. Crosby — Ned and Dorothy. 
 Bat. Number Twelve, 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE ^t 
 
 NO. XII 
 
 Enter Madame Carmencita. Costume : evening gown and 
 coat; large picture hat ; long gloves. 
 
 Carmen, [laughing). Hello, there, Luke. 
 
 Loud {Jumping up and shaking both hands'). Of all peo- 
 ple ! Are you going into vaudeville ? 
 
 Car. You've struck it, Luke, first throw. I'm tired of 
 concertizing. The legitimate is all right but the money part, 
 and that's — '■ — (Shrugs.) 
 
 Loud. Rotten's the word. Well ! this is luck. Now, let 
 me hear you warble ; not to hear how you do it, but just to 
 hear you. 
 
 Carmen. Good boy ! You always could say nice things. 
 {Removes coat and gives to Bat.) But I want you to hear how 
 I do it; vaudeville requirements are somewhat different from 
 the legitimate. 
 
 Loud. All right ; pipe away. {She hands music to Bat, 
 who gives it to pianist.) How's Karl ? 
 
 Carmen {laughing). Same old boy; dotes on yours truly. 
 
 Loud. Well, I guess ! {Song introduced. hovD, at close.) 
 Bravo ! Now one more — that one that Davis went woozy over. 
 
 Carmen. Poor Davis ! He was married last week for the 
 sixth time. 
 
 Loud. He's working for a Carnegie medal. 
 
 Carmen. And working hard. {Turns to pianist.) Ready. 
 
 {Song introduced. At close Loud takes her arm and walks 
 with her to door, conversing in low tones. Exit Car- 
 men.) 
 
 Loud. A {^tw oases in the desert. 
 Bat {hugging stenographer). You bet. 
 Loud. You hike ! 
 Bat. Number Thirteen. 
 
 NO. XIII 
 
 Enter Reuben Haskins. Linen duster, soiled and mussed ; 
 old straw hat ; whiskers ; red kerchief around neck ; 
 top-boots, very dusty-looking ; bowed spectacles. Long, 
 straggling gray hair. Has a ivheelbarrow on which is a 
 trunk, preferably a hair trunk, a rush-bottom chair and 
 a patc/iwork quilt tied in a roll. Sings as door opens. 
 
32 FlfK iNf A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 Sotig coniifiiies, interspersed with dnncitig. Also timely 
 jokes if desired. Mops face with kerchief, bloivs nose, 
 opens trunk, takes from trunk pale blue pajamas, about a 
 half dozen pairs of giddy suspenders, so?ne fastened with 
 nails, and holds all these so that audience can see plainly. 
 Also takes out carpet slippers of enormous size, plaid stock- 
 ings, and anything else that will raise a laugh, and last, 
 a huge feather duster. He now takes chair from barrow 
 and puts it on stage, sitting on it and dustijig his boots 
 with duster meatiwhile. Song and dance introduced. 
 During this, Bat opens exit door quietly. Rube gives a 
 handspring or two and exits. Does not speak to Loud 
 while on stage. Songs should be country flavor and 
 timely. Loud hands Bat a paper on which he has been 
 writing. Bat hands this to stenographer. 
 
 Bat. Number Fourteen. 
 
 NO. XIV 
 
 Enter the Coquette Sisters and the "Peach." The sisters, 
 GOLDIE, Birdie and Queenie, are dressed as skirt 
 dancers, — pink, pale blue, and pale yellow costumes. 
 These are made of silkalene, gathered from the yoke, ten 
 widths to a skirt, and eight inches from the floor. A 
 stick is sewed in the skirt on either side from the bottom 
 of hem to as high up as will reach the dropped hand : this 
 so that the skirt can be tivirled effectively. A pretty little 
 dance can be taught by a good dancing teacher in three les- 
 sons, that is, to good dancers. In the original the music 
 " Four Little Blackberries " ivas used. 15 lack hats with 
 feathers or flowers the color of the costumes. Stockings 
 color of costumes. Soft-soled dancing slippers without 
 heels are best, strapping the legs zvith black ribbons. Black 
 gloves. The ' ' Peach " is a man dressed as a girl. Black 
 bodice, lotv neck and short sleeves, full pleated black skirt, 
 red shoes and stockings, red sash, large black hat with red 
 feathers or flowers. Should be made up to look a stunning 
 figure, preferably blonde ivig. Ruby Ott, preferably 
 white costume, elegant and very modish. The original 
 wore 7vhite broadcloth skirt, long lace coat, white feather 
 boa and muff, eiuirmous hat drooping with white plumes 
 ■ and red roses. Great care should be given to this cos- 
 tume. It is the last entrance atid should be as effective as 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 33 
 
 possible. A train should not be wortt, utiless by a wo)nan 
 who understands stepping backward in one. Skirt though 
 should be long. All except Ruby rush in together. 
 
 All. Hello, Luke ! 
 
 Loud [jumping up from chair and advaticing). Why, I 
 thought you folks were in Australia. 
 
 GoLDiE. You belong to the Ananias club. You know we 
 got home last week. 
 
 QuEENiE. You ! — Not to know where the Coquettes are ! 
 You're not quite so slow as that. 
 
 Loud. Thanks. Well, girls, I'm glad to see you. 
 
 {Tries to kiss Birdie.) 
 
 Birdie (biffs him on the chin). I don't want any of your 
 lip. 
 
 (Loud savings her around, her body held stiffly. He turns 
 to GoLDiE and tries to kiss her.) 
 
 GoLDiE (whirling on heels). Luke ! You ought to be 
 ashamed of yourself — you, the father of fourteen children ! 
 
 QuEENiE. Think of the little Louds, Luke, and act as a 
 fond papa should. 
 
 Loud [holding out his arms). What's this but the papa 
 act? 
 
 "Peach." Here! What's the use of wastin' time? 
 [Throtus her arms around Loud's neck.) I'll yum-yum for 
 the bunch. 
 
 (Kiss. Loud swings her to table. She takes out cigarette. 
 Loud sits on table beside her.) 
 
 Queenie. Gee, Peach ! You look rocky. 
 
 Peach. Luke, this 'ere bunch makes me sick. Lord ! look 
 at 'em ! Ain't they er rum layout to try the pious dodge? 
 
 Birdie ^ 
 
 Goldie (■ (together). Slob ! 
 
 Queenie ) 
 
 Peach (to Loud). Can't. I got er date with the peachiest 
 chap in town. Who? (Local name.) And to-morrow I'm 
 to motor with his nibs . [Also local natne.) 
 
 Goldie (to pianist). Let er go, 
 
34 FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 (Skirt dance by Coquette sisters. Time should be allowed 
 for eficore before next speech.') 
 
 Peach. Ain't they the slow gang — 'fraid to show the lace 
 on their petticoats. {Springs from table.) Turn on the 
 music. 
 
 {Skirt dance by the Peach. Same steps as in other dance 
 may be used, but with more abandon and raising of skirts. 
 The fancy butterfly effect and poses of other dance, of 
 course, should be eliminated. The other dance should be 
 pretty, this rakish. Alloiv time for encore. At close of 
 dance, Peach runs toward exit.) 
 
 GOLDIE. Wait ! We can't go till Ruby comes. 
 
 {Door opens. Enter Ruby.) 
 
 QUEENIE. Just in time, Ruby. 
 
 {As Ruby opens door, pianist starts her accompaniment. 
 She enters singing. The others run and jump on table, 
 sitting there while she sings. Loud looks up at Ruby 
 surprised but evidently smitten with her appearance. He 
 stands beside others at table. They should group them- 
 selves to make effective picture. Ruby advances halfway 
 to c, lays muff on piano. As she sings she looks flirta- 
 tiously <?/ Loud.) 
 
 Ruby (sings). 
 
 SONG 
 
 I'm tired of playing in vau-de-villes, 
 
 I'm tired of wearing short skirts and frills, 
 
 I want to travel in an auto car, 
 
 And go to gay Paree afar. 
 
 I don't care for girls or for liltle boys, 
 
 But I must admit that I like big boys. 
 
 (Loud points to himself. She nods and he advances. ) 
 
 Of all the boys in the world I know, 
 There is only one who can be my beau. 
 
 (As she sings chorus she steps closer to Loud, ivho takes 
 mirror from pocket and gazes in it as he strokes his hair.) 
 
FUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 35 
 
 {Chorus.^ You're just the boy for me, 
 You're iny affinity : — 
 I like your smile, your classy style, 
 You're just as cute as you can be — 
 You're just ray size, you see. — 
 You suit me to a " T " — 
 
 {Each steps toward other.) 
 Get wise bright eyes, 
 Can't you surmise, 
 
 (^Jle puts arm around her ; they step in time to music on 
 last line.) 
 
 You're just the boy for me. 
 
 {Between chorus and second verse, she passes in front of 
 Loud to other side atid he steps back in opposite direction. 
 They gradually step toward each other, to meet at same 
 line in chorus.) 
 
 Your teeth are whiter than precious pearls. 
 I'm struck on your pretty blonde curly curls. 
 You've such a manly Gibson pose, 
 
 (Loud strikes attitude.) 
 Some class to your chin, your mouth and nose. 
 
 {She steps quickly forward and strokes his chin, then back.) 
 
 I'll let you take me to all the shops, 
 
 QMMxi's face falls.) 
 And treat me to violets and loly pops. 
 You own an auto? (Loud nods vigorous assent.) 
 I knew you did, 
 Well, if you're the million dollar kid. 
 
 ( Chorus arid same business repeated. At close of song others 
 pull Loud back to table and hold him.) 
 
 Ruby {sings, holding out her arms toward hoVD). 
 
 Let's go home, let's go home. 
 I want to be with you all alone. 
 Two for me is company. 
 And this is a crowd, you see. 
 
 (Loud tries to break away.) 
 
36 
 
 PUN IN A THEATRICAL OFFICE 
 
 So let's go home, let's go home. (She advances.') 
 I want a man who is all my own. 
 (Loud breaks loose and rushes to her, clasps hands.) 
 I have a fear that I'll lose you here 
 
 (Loud shakes head at vigorous dissejit.) 
 So let's go home. 
 
 ( They put arms back of each other' s waists a fid clasp hands 
 and step backtvard toward exit. 7 he others Join them in 
 singing same coords again. When Loud and Ruby leave 
 C. of stage, the others dance toward other door, and all 
 dance off the stage, singing "Let's go home." If there 
 is a curtain, it falls. Jf not, this makes an effective 
 close tuithout curiai?i.) 
 
 NOTE 
 
 While it is necessary that Ruby should have a good voice, it is even 
 more essential that she can act. This is a star part when well done. In 
 the original it was done by a pure amateur but done charmingly, making 
 one of the most effective bits of acting of the evening. Business with 
 eyes and smiles, which cannot be indicated here, can be worked to great 
 advantage. The first song, " You're Just the Boy for Me," is published 
 by the Gus Edwards Music Pub. Co., 1512 Broadway, N. Y., Price, 
 50 cents. Lyric by Ed. Gardenier, music by Gus Edwards. The 
 words were changed somewhat by the author of this play to suit the char- 
 acter. Make note of this, or it would be confusing. The last song is 
 merely the chorus of song entitled " Let's Go Home," Price, 50 cents. 
 
New Entertainments 
 
 ALL THE YEAR ROUND 
 
 A Series of Entertainments for Every 
 
 Month in the Year 
 
 By Harriette Wilbur 
 
 A collection of sixteen pretty and graceful entertainments for children 
 of various ages and both sexes in a variety of combinations, written by an 
 experienced teacher of the young, and intended to meet the wants of other 
 teachers in quest of material suited to their needs. Some attention is 
 given to all the generally observed holidays and anniversaries, and for 
 the more popular of these more than one entertainment is provided. The 
 ideas are pretty and, it is believed, their working out entirely practicable. 
 Costumes called for are easily arranged, and full descriptions are given 
 when necessary, as well as music and illustrative diagrams to aid in work- 
 ing out the drills and marches. 
 
 Price, 25 cents 
 
 CONTENTS 
 ** Happy New Year " {six boys, six girls a?id a little child^. 
 The Rail Splitters {twelve small bo-js). 
 Valentines (six girls and six boys, or twelve girls). 
 George and Martha Washington {six boys and six gtrls~). 
 The March Hare {eight boys). 
 April Weather {four boys and four girls'). 
 May Flowers {fourteen little girls). 
 "June Time" {fourteen girls). 
 A Firecracker Drill ( ten small boys). 
 The Stars and Stripes {sixteen girls). 
 Labor Day {six boys and chorus). 
 " Berries Red " {ten little girls). 
 Autumn Leaves {eight little girls). 
 The First Thanksgiving {twelve small boys)» 
 Christmas Bells {nine small boys). 
 A Winter Night's Frolic {twelve small boys). 
 
 BROTHER DAVE 
 
 A Play in One Act 
 
 By Willis Steell 
 
 One male, two females. Costumes modern ; scene, an interior. Plays 
 twenty minutes. A piece of very strong dramatic interest for a leading 
 low comedian, originally produced in vaudeville by Sam Edwards. Free 
 to amateurs ; royalty required for professional performance. 
 Price, ij cents 
 
New Farces and Comedies 
 
 GADSBY'S GIRLS 
 A Farce in Three Acts 
 
 By Bertha Currier Porter 
 
 Five males, four females. Costumes modern ; scenery, an exterior and 
 an interior. Plays an hour and a half. An exceptionally bright and 
 vivacious little piece, full of action. The irrepressible Gadsby's adven- 
 tures with the fiancees of three of his friends are full of interest and fun. 
 All the parts good. Well suited for High School performance. 
 Price, 2j cents 
 
 CHARACTERS 
 
 Richard Stanley, a lawyer. 
 
 Joseph Parker, a clerk. 
 
 Morris Young, a medical student. 
 
 Steve, the farm boy. Friendly, but not loquacious. 
 
 Mabel V akk-xn?,, frivolous and dressy ; engaged to Richard. 
 
 Esther Carroll, botanical and birdy ; engaged to Joseph. 
 
 Grace Chester, Just girl; engaged to Morris. 
 
 Mrs. Dodge, who takes boarders. 
 
 Maximilian Hunnewell Gadsby, a butterfly, 
 
 THE GIRL WHO PAID THE BILLS 
 A Comedy in One Act 
 
 By Nina Rhoades 
 Two males, four females. Costumes modern ; scene, an easy interior. 
 Plays thirty-five minutes. A clever piece of high class, admirably written 
 and suited to the best taste. A pretty little love story, wholesome and un- 
 sentimental in tone. Well recommended. 
 
 Price, i^ cents 
 
 THE FIFTH COMMANDMENT 
 
 A Play in One Act 
 
 By Willis Steell 
 
 Three males, one female. Costumes modern ; scene, an interior. 
 Plays twenty minutes. An easy piece of strong dramatic interest, origi- 
 nally produced in Vaudeville by Julius Steger. Free to amateurs; royalty 
 required for professional performance. 
 
 Price, 15 cents 
 
New Plays 
 MR. EASTMAN'S NIECE 
 
 A Farcical Comedy in Four Acts 
 
 I 
 
 By Belle Marshall Locke 
 
 Six males, four females. Costumes modern ; scenery, two interiors and 
 one easy exterior that may be played indoors if desired. Plays a full even- 
 ing. A clever and vivacious play, full of fun and action. Mr. Easyman's 
 fad of spiritualism leads him into a difficulty that is a source of endless 
 amusement to the audience. Irish and old maid comedy parts. Can be 
 recommended. 
 
 Price, 25 cents 
 
 CHARACTERS 
 
 Mr. Stephen Easyman, a wealthy Mr. Sharpe, a detective. 
 
 broker. Miss Judith Carroll, a maiden 
 
 Mr. Carew Carlton, his nephew. aunt. 
 
 Mr. Tom Ashleigh. Mrs. Easyman, ] her 
 
 Jackson, a servant. Miss Bessie Carroll, J nieces, 
 
 Michael Flynn. Desdemona, the ghost. 
 
 A PAIR OF BURGLARS 
 
 By Byron P. Glenn 
 
 Two males, two females. One act. Costumes modern ; scenery, an 
 easy interior. Plays half an hour. A brisk little curtain raiser of the 
 " vaudeville " type, moving all the time. Easy and effective ; all the parts 
 young people and well-dressed. Strongly recommended. 
 
 Price, 75 cefits ; 
 
 DANE'S DRESS-SUIT CASE 
 
 By Robert C. V. Meyers 
 
 Two males, one female. One act. Costumes modern ; scene, an easy 
 interior. Plays fifteen minutes. An excellent short play to fill out a bill 
 or to fill in an intermission. All action and lots of fun. All parts young 
 and well-dressed. 
 
 Price, i^ cents 
 
New Plays and Entertainments 
 
 MISS FEARLESS & CO. 
 A Comedy in Three Acts 
 
 By Belle Marshall Locke 
 Ten females. Scenery, two interiors; costumes modern. Plays a full 
 evening. A bright and interesting play full of action and incident. Can be 
 strongly recommended. All the parts are good. Sarah Jane Lovejoy, Katie 
 O'Connor and Eupheniia Addison are admirable character parts, and Miss 
 Alias and Miss Alibi, the " silent sisters," offer a side-splitting novelty. 
 Price, 2^ cents 
 
 MRS. BRIGGS OF THE POULTRY YARD 
 
 A Comedy in Three Acts 
 
 J By Evelyn Gray Whiting 
 
 Four males, seven females. Scene, an interior; costumes modern. A 
 
 bTEVt ^-^^^ctjc comedy looking steadfastly at the " bright side " of human 
 
 affairs. Mrs. Briggs is an admirable part, full of original humor and 
 
 quaint sayings, and all the characters are full of opportunity. Simply but 
 
 effectively constructed, and written with great humor. Plays two hours. 
 
 Price, 25 ce7its 
 
 SCENES IN THE UNION DEPOT 
 
 A Humorous Entertainment in One Scene 
 
 By Laura M. Parsons 
 
 Twenty-four males, eighteen females and eight children, but can be 
 
 played by less if desired. Scenery unimportant ; costumes modern. Full 
 
 of humorous points and chances to introduce local hits. Plays from an 
 
 hour up, according to specialties introduced. 
 
 Price, 25 cents 
 
 A MODERN SEWING SOCIETY 
 
 An Entertainment in One Scene 
 
 By O. W. Gleason 
 Fourteen females. Costumes modern ; no scenery required. May be 
 easily presented on a bare platform. Plays forty-tive minutes. A hu- 
 morous picture of this much-abused institution, briskly and vivaciously 
 written and full of "points." Its characters offer a wide variety of Op 
 portunity for local hits and satire of local characters and institutions, 
 Price, j^ cents 
 
^titt, 50 €entst <!Earf> 
 
 THF MAfilSTRATF ^*'"<'* J** Three Acts. Twelve males, four 
 lUC inAUlJlAAlLi fgnjales. Costumes, modem; scenery, all 
 interior. Plays two hours and a half. ^ ; 
 
 THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITP 'S^^^ZZi^Z. 
 
 Costumes, modern ; scenery, all interiors PI; ys a full evening. 
 
 THF PBftFI IfiATF Play in Four Acts oeven males, five females. 
 lUC riiUridUAlli gggjjgry^ three interiors, rather elahorate ; 
 costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 
 
 THE scBooLMisTREss j^t.^^^r^rrnttr:;;, 
 
 three interiors. Plays a full evening. 
 
 THE SECOND MRS. TANQDERAY ^^J^Zl^S^,, ^tl 
 
 tumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. 
 
 SWFFT T AYFNflFR comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, four 
 JTtLiLi 1^ I4 females. Scene, a single interior; costumes, 
 
 modern. Plays a full evening. 
 
 THF TIMFS Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females. 
 Scene, a single interior ; costumes, modern. Plays a 
 full evening. 
 
 THF WFAKFR SFX comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, eight 
 females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two 
 interiors. Plays a full evening. 
 
 A WIFE WITHOUT A SMIIE "ZZ^lZZ^t.^::. 
 
 modem ; scene, a single interior. Plays a full evening. 
 
 Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 
 
 l^alter 1^« 13a6e^ a Compant 
 
 No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 
 
3^ecent popular Paps 
 
 THF AWAlfFNFNfi ^^^^ ^° ^°'^'' ■^'^^^- ^y ^- ^- chamber!?. 
 
 IUI4 ATT AIVLililiiU j'our males, six females. Scenery, not diffi- 
 cult, chiefly interiors ; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. 
 Price, 50 Cents. 
 
 THE FRUITS OF ENLIGHTENMENT gT'/oi!°xof twX 
 
 one males, eleven females. Scenery, characteristic interiors ; cos- 
 tumes, modern. Plays a full evening. Kecommended for reading 
 clubs. Price, 35 Cents. 
 
 HIS EXCELLENCY THE GOVERNOR r^iTKlaA^f *\?Z 
 
 males, three females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, one interior. 
 Acting rights reserved. Time, a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 
 
 AV IRFAT HIISRANT) comedy in Four Acts. By Oscak "Wilde. 
 All IVLiALt UVJUAlMr Nine males, six females. Costumes, mod- 
 ern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. Acting rights 
 reserved. Sold for reading. Price, 50 Cents. 
 
 THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING EARNEST Hit ^^ 2^n 
 
 Wilde. Five males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenes, two 
 interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. Acting rights re- 
 served. Price, 50 Cents. 
 
 LADY WINDERMERE'S FAN '^r.lTM^Z'^.f^esXe''^^- 
 
 males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full 
 evening. Acting rights reserved. Price, 50 Cents. 
 
 NATHAN HAT F Play in Four Acts. By Clyde Fitch. Fifteen 
 ilAillAii MlALiLi males, four females. Costumes of the eighteenth 
 century in America. Scenery, four interiors and two exteriors. Act- 
 ing rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 
 
 THF OTHFR PFTf AW Comedy in Three Acts. ByM. B. Hokne. 
 llltl UlULA rLlylfVTT Six males, four females. Scenery, two 
 interiors ; costumes, modern. Professional stage rights reserved. 
 Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 
 
 Infc lYKANNl Or lEARb chambers. Four males, thi-ee fe- 
 males. Scenery, an interior and an exterior ; costumes, modern. 
 Acting rights reserved. Plays a full evening. Price, 50 Cents. 
 
 A WOMAN OF NO IMPORTANCE ^otTI^V^Jri4^t1nA 
 
 seven females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors and an 
 exterior. Plays a lull evening. Stage rights reserved. Offered for 
 reading only. Price, 50 Cents. 
 
 Sent prepaid on receipt of price by 
 
 Salter 1$. OBafter s, Company 
 
 No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts 
 
 a. 4. PARKHILL * CO., PRINTCRS, BOSTON, U.S.A.