PS 3535 .175 06 1918 Copy 1 he 4.i00,000 Club Paper PLAY FOR CLUB WOMEN One-Act Comedy By BARBARA RING Arlington Heights :-: :-: :-: :_: Massachusetts bo '^ .4^ . '\^^^ PERSONS REPRESENTED Mr. George Barrington, father. Mrs. Bertha Barrington, his wife. Mary Ann, elder daughter (18). Sybil, younger daughter (16). John, eleven-year-old son. Peter, Mary Ann's lover. Rosalind, new colored maid. Mrs. de Marr, neighbor. Butcher. The $100,000 CLUB PAPER A ONE-ACT COMEDY By Barbara Ring Scene: Dining-room. Putty colored walls; blue and old-rose chintz draperies in window; rug of blue, old rose and ivory; mahogany serving table with candle- stick and blue chintz shade at each end, water glasses, pitcher and big book in centre, right stage; desk, flat- top, with papers and tzco big books and telephone on top, down stage left; door, blue chintz screen half covering it, chair behind screen, right upper stage; picture, typical of family life, left centre stage; door, back stage centre; zvindozv zvith flowering plant in basket, back stage right; bookcase filled zvith very large books, tzco big books and clock on top shelf, back stage left; breakfast table set for five persons, centre stage. tn.*^ Discovered: [Mr. Barrington, large man of^ explo- sive disposition, grey hair, iron-grey moustache, dressed in business suit, at breakfast table reading newspaper. Mrs. Barrington about thirty-eight, at- tractive, good-natured, pleasing, affectionate, in simple blue dress, sits opposite Mr. Barrington.] Mr. Barrington [Reading nen'spaper, loivers it. looks over breakfast , table, then sweeps his hand over it disgustedly.] Nothing- but dishes! Why isn't our breakfast on the table? [Throzvs down newspaper.] Mrs. Barrington. You see, George, piling food on the table is old-fashioned. Rosalind, our new maid, is up-to-date. She puts nothing on, but passes everything. [Enter Rosalind, rig Jit door, colored maid, fearful, when not grinning; awkzvard, jerky; hair done in psyche knot; zvaitress cap and apron; she goes to serving tabic, pours zvater into tzvo glasses, places one at Mrs. Bar- rington's right, but spills Mr. Barrington's as she places it. Mr. Barrington glares at Rosalind. She passes fruit, roils and coffee to Mr. and Mrs. Barring- ton.] Mr. Barrington. [Begins to eat.] I don't care what's up-to-date. You know well enough that when I sit down I want my breakfast right in front of me ready to eat. Mrs. Barrington. Yes, dear, it's all my fault. I forgot to tell Rosalind about it. We can't expect a new maid to know everything the first morning. Mr. Barrington. Don't you think you are carry- ing things with a pretty high hand when you get a second maid without asking me? Mrs. Barrington. I confess I should have asked you, but — Mr. Barrington. Well, then, why didn't you? [As Rosalind goes out, right door, she casts fright- ened glances at Mr. Barrington.] Mrs. Barrington. Well, you know it depends upon Aunt Mary's will and — that makes you so angry — Mr. Barrington. What has that fool will to do with your adding another maid ? 6 ©CI.D 486 9 7 JAN .2 1918 V , Mrs. Harrington . Don't you see, when we get the $100,000 Auntie willed to me we can afford to keep two maids. Mr. Barrington. Well, when you have done the crazy things that confounded will calls for, it'll be time enough to add expense. Mrs. Barrington. That just's the point, George. I had to have this maid now to get time to write my paper. Mr. Barrington. Oh! [Looking around the room.] that's why the kids aren't up to breakfast. You are wasting your time scribbling instead of looking after them. Mrs. Barrington. George, dear, be reasjonable. The will says I must be a member of the Club, and the only way to get in is to present a paper. Mr. Barrington. Oh, that paper is your favorite topic because you know I don't want you to belong to any of those women's clubs, and least of all to that de- testable paper-writing club. Mrs. Barrington. Tell me — why are you so prejudiced against women's clubs? Mr. Barrington. Do you think I want you to get a lot of new-fangled ideas and uncomfortable notions? Women do altogether too much thinking nowadays, anyway. Mrs. Barrington. Mothers have to do a good deal of thinking to keep up with their children. Why, Mary Ann makes me feel that I haven't and never did have a. single new idea. Mr. Barrington. Don't you worry about new ideas. I have enough for us both. Mrs. Barrington. I am quite sure you have, dear, and I do want to please you ; but if I'm not a member of that club within a year we'll lose the $100,000. Mr. Barrington. Go ahead and join, but why un- der the sun do you insist upon writing on such an out- landish subject? Mrs. Barrington. Why shouldn't I write upon a subject that appeals to me? Mr. Barrington. But Hottentots — what are Hot- tentots to you or anybody else? Mrs. Harrington. Why, that darhng old Hotten- tot mammy saved my life — Mr. Barrington. Well, that's the limit. Just be- cause a nurse was good to you when you were a child, and she happened to be a Hottentot, you are going to make yourself ridiculous by writing a paper on "The Perpetuation of the Hottentot Race'' [Enter Rosalind, who serves bread to Mrs. Barring- ton, but drops butter (cheese may be used) on floor when she serves Mr. Barrington. She stops to pick it up.] ^Ir. Barrington. [Ironically.l Rosalind, when you've buttered the carpet, might I have some butter for my bread? Rosalind. Yassah. [Serves Mr. Barrington and goes out right.] Mrs. Barrington. I want the members of the club to know what a noble, unselfish and perfectly splendid race the Hottentots really are. Mr. Barrington. There you go again into rhapso- dies over Hottentots. Mrs. Barrington. Why, George, they are like the almost extinct buflfalo — nearly all dead. I feel it my duty to take care of the remains. Mr. Barrington. Yes, an obituary on the bufifalo would be just as fit a subject. Mrs. Barrington. You don't understand — Mr. Barrington. [In great disgust.] I understand enough to know that everybody will laugh at you — my wife. Really, Bertha, it's too galling. Mrs. Barrington. [i?/.sT.y, goes to bookcase, takes book, opens, and pei'uses.] All these books from the public library are full of such interesting things about the Hottentots. Mr. Barrington. [Turning round.] There's a library full of books on the anatomy of the big toe, but would you choose that for a subject? Mrs. Barrington. [Comes back to table. Looks at Mr. Barringtok szvectl'y and puts her hand on his shoulder.] I would — if it were your big toe, dear. Mr. Barrington. [Shrugs his shotdders.] Entirely ruled by your feelings. Have you no judgment? Mrs. Barrington. [Nonchalantly.] Yes, I judge, dear, this is not the time to discuss' the subject of my paper. Mr. Barrington. Why not? Mrs. Barrington. Well, the time is approaching— Mr. Barrington. To choose a new subject. Mrs. Barrington. I can't do it, George. If my paper isn't done by ten o'clock today, we shall not get the money. Mr. Barrington. What do you mean? Mrs. Barrington. This is the last day allowed bv the will. Mr. Barrington. [Leans excitedly toward Mrs. Barrington.] Great Scott! Why didn't you tell me before that we are running the risk of losing the $100,- 000? ]Rises. ] You are wasting your time talking to me when you should be writing. I'll get out now and leave you alone. [Grabs pen and paper from desk.] Here, take your pen and paper. Write! Don't let any- body in ! Don't lose a minute ! Write on anything, — Fiji Islanders, Turks, Kaffirs, Kalmucks, Gorillas, Hot- tentots, anything, only write, write, and let nothing stop you ! [Mr. Barrington pecks rather than kisses Mrs. Bar- rington. Rushes out rear door.] [Enter Rosalind, right door; takes away dishes.] Mrs. Barrington. Rosalind, please call my daugh- ters and Master John for breakfast. Rosalind. Yas, ma'am. [Mrs. Barrington goes to desk, and arranges her papers, pencils, opens book, and begins to copy.] Mrs. Barrington. "The Hottentots lived on the Southwest coast of Africa — " [Still reading, asks ab- sent mindedly] Oh, Rosalind, did the — ah — Hottentots — answer when you called? Rosalind. W'at yo' say, ma'am? Mrs. Barrington. Did the — oh, the — children an- swer when you called? Rosalind. Oh, de chilluns ! I call tree times, I did, en de little boy sez he only year me de las' time I call. Mrs. Barrington. Set the table, anyway, Rosalind, and I'll ring the bell. [Opens left door and rings bell, goes to desk, takes out a pencil, makes notes on paper.] Rosalind. Mus' I put de breakfas, ma'am, on de table de way de marser he say? Mrs. Barrington. Oh, no, Rosalind ; I prefer to have the dishes passed to each member of the family. Mr. Barrington likes that way of serving, too, but, Rosa- lind, he doesn't know he likes it. Rosalind. \Setting the table.] De marser by w'at he sez dis mawnin' he reckin he know, but he mout change er his mine. [Enter at left door Mary Ann, tall, athletic and man- nish, in old-rose middy blouse, zvhite skirt, zvhite sneak- ers, follozved by Sybil, who is dressed in a plain long tier covering her costume, long blonde hair tied back zvith ribbon.] Mary Ann. [Takes place at table, left centre.] Good morning, mother. Sybil. Good morning. [Kisses mother; takes place beside Mary Ann.] Mary Ann. Father gone? Mrs. Barrington. [Comes to place at table, bringing her book.] Yes, my dear, he hurried off to give me time to write. He didn't like it because you weren't down to breakfast. Mary Ann. Does he expect us to enjoy listening to him? [Rosalind serves the breakfast as before, while Mrs. Barrington reads. Mary Ann and Sybil eat.\ Mrs. Barrington. Whether you enjoy it or not courtesy demands that you eat breakfast with us. Mary Ann. Courtesy, indeed! Mother, don't try to deceive us about father. We know he does nothing but growl at breakfast, and I, for one, will not come down until he has gone. 10 Mrs. Barrington. He doesn't growl, he's just- expressive. Mary Ann. You know he does. l)ut you're aUo- gether too easy with him. You ought to join the suf- fragists ; they'd teach you how to manage him. Mrs. Barrington. He seems quite ahle to manage himself. Mary Ann. Of course he does, and to lord it over you, too. Mrs. Barrington. Well, Mary Ann, when you have a husband — Mary Ann. When I do, he won't be like father and keep me from joining clubs ! Mrs. Barrington. But if he should, what would you do? Mary Ann. I wouldn't wait for anybody's will. I'd make him feel— feel— the strength of this right arm. [Doubles fist.] Sybil. Do you call that a beautiful wav of behaving, Mary Ann? Mary Ann. Beauty and art are your gods, Sybil. Do you know what I think about your beautiful and artistic dancing? Sybil. I can guess, Mary Ann. Mary Ann. It's symbolic slush. . Sybil. That's because you can't do it, Mary Ann. Mary Ann. Do it? No, I do things that 'are real; no fairy fantasies for me. Mrs. Barrington. [Has been pouring' the coffee, which Rosalind passes.] Mary Ann, you're always talking about doing real things. Here's something for you. Mary Ann. All right; just tell me what it is. Mrs. Barrington. Find some way of getting John up when he's called. Mary Ann. I'll show you how I can do that. Mrs. Barrington. Well, wait until you finish your breakfast. Mary Ann. No, mother, I'll do it now. . [Goes out left door.] n [Rosalind drops a platter of bacon, zvhich she picks up bit by bit. Sybil giggles; Rosalind snickers.] [Enter Mary Ann dragging John, a boy of eleven, kicking and squirming in his pajamas, to right centre.] Mary Ann. Next time you'll get up when you're called. John. [Rubbing his sleepy eyes.] For the love of Mike, Mary /\nn, what do you think you are doing? Mrs. Barrington. Now, John, go upstairs and dress. [Mary Ann sits dozvn at breakfast table as be- fore.] John. Mary Ann, you brought me down ; take mc back. Mary Ann. [Eating.] Watch me take you back. If you don't start in ten seconds [Looking at the clock], I'll help you up a little more forcibly than I brought you down. John. Huh ! Mary Ann, you couldn't hurt a flea. Mary Ann. Flea or no flea, I'm watching the clock. John. Keep a-watching. Mrs. Barrington. Do hurry, boy, and I'll let you play with Billy. John. Flay with Billy? Gee! that sounds good. Is Mary Ann going to play with Peter — Peter, sweetheart eater, Peter, Peter, tennis beater? Mary Ann. [Chases John round the table.] I'll Peter you in just two seconds. Mrs. Barrington. Children! I want this morning to write. John. You can't do it unless you get a new pen, maw. Mrs. Barrington. [Surprised.] Why not? John. 'Cause your pen has committed suicide. Mrs. Barrington. [Laughing.] How's that? John. It jumped in the ink-well and got drowned. [Sybil and Mrs. Barrington laugh.] Mary Ann. Don't get too funny. [Looking at the clock.] One second— John. [Gradually crawls to right centre.] I'm wait- ing for you, Sis. 12 Mary Ann. [Gets up and stamps her foot.] Don't Sis me, I'll — [Makes a move toward John, hut he evades her by rushing out left door. Mary Ann sits dozvn again.] Mrs. Barrington. Rosalind, please take cereal, muffins, and milk upstairs to John. Rosalind. Yas, ma'am. [Rosalind goes out right.] Mrs. Barrington. It will save time while Rosalind is getting John's breakfast — Mary Ann. Let him do without. What a fuss you make over him. Mrs. Barrington. If you girls clear away the dishes, — Mary Ann. That isn't fair. Let Rosalind take olT the dishes. Mrs. Barrington. No, Mary Ann, you see for your- self that Rosalind is busy, and to save time you must help. [Mary Ann scozds. Mrs. Barrington sits down at her desk and ivrites, while Sybil and Mary Ann get up, pile up dishes, one middle right, the other middle left.] Mary Ann. [Counting the dishes.] There are 1-6-8-10-14-18-20-35 dishes; that's eighteen for you, Sybil, and seventeen for me. Sybil. No, you clear away eighteen and I'll clear away seventeen. [Sybil stands looking at dishes, zvhile Mary Ann begins to take away dishes.] Mary Ann. Do you hear me? Eighteen is you — [Sybil takes pile of dishes to serving table.] Sybil and Mary Ann. [Sybil returns to right centre, Mary Ann to left centre.] Yours, yours. Mary Ann. I am the older; you must do as I bid you. [Both take dishes azvay.] Sybil. You are taller, but that's no excuse for your rudeness. [There is only one plate left.] Mary Ann. [Pointing to plate.] There's your last plate. Sybil. [Pointing to plate.] Your last plate. Mary Ann. Pick it up. Sybil. Pick it up yourself. 13 Mary Ann. [Dramatically.] I shall not take up that plate. Mrs. Barrington. Girls, stop, stop ! Don't you know that you must help and not hinder? Mary Ann. Mother, I am trying to help by giving Sybil a little discipline. She is utterly spoiled. Mrs. Barrington. If taking that plate off improves Sybil's morals, what will happen to yours? Mary Ann. Oh, I am willing to sacrifice my morals for the sake of improving hers. I\1rs. Barrington. [Impatiently.] Girls, girls, if I don't get this manuscript written by 10 o'clock, [Look- ing at the clock] we shall not get one cent of Aunty's money. Mary Ann. Principle is what I care about, not money. It's Sybil's duty to take that plate away. vSacri- fice principle for a plate? W^ell, not much — Mrs. Barrington. [Distressed.] Have you no con- sideration for me? Sybil. [Goes to Jier juotlier, puts Jier anus around her neck, kisses her.] Mummy, dear, I'll put the plate away. I don't care about principle or money, but I love you. [Mother pats Sybil's hands. Sybil takes plate away. Mary Ann claps her hands triumphantly.] Mrs. Barrington. Now you may go to Aunt Ellen's for the day. Rosalind will answer the doorbell and keep me from being disturbed. Mary Ann. That's jolly; tennis for me; good-bye. [Goes out rear door.] Sybil. [Rushes up to Mrs. Barrington.] Oh, mother, have you forgotten I am to dance the Syrinx this afternoon? Mrs. Barrington. The Hottentots put your dance completely out of my mind. Sybil. To make sure of doing it right, I need one more rehearsal. Won't you play it just once? [Enter Rosalind right door; begins to put the books into the case.] Mrs. Barrington. I can't spare the time, Sybil. I 14 have several new pages to write, and all these pages to copy. [Holding up fifteen pages of manuscript.] Sybil. Mother, you couldn't let me make a fizzle of my dance, could you ? Mrs. Barrington. Giving up that much time may make me lose $100,000. Sybil. Just once, mummy, dear, please. [Goes to her mother, puts her arm round her, and kisses her.] Mrs. Barrington. Yes, yes, if you'll hurry and change your dress. [Sighs as Sybil goes out left door.\ At this rate of speed I'll lose the money, but, dear me, what can I do? [IVaves arms impatiently.] Oh, Rosa- lind, don't touch the books. Take the table away for Sybil's dance, Rosalind. Miss Sybil she gwine ter dance like she did yistiddy. I kin dance misse'f, [Takes fezv steps like jig\ but 1 nebber see nobody dance des like dat Miss Sybil, but I tinks I can. Mrs. Barrington. [JVrites rapidly, reads, and does not see Rosalind dance. \ "South coast of Africa and had light skins and long, intellectual-looking foreheads. They were undoubtedly of Semitic origin — " [Rosalind imitates Sybil's dancing, tJiro-wing up arms and throzv- ing her feet out. McamvJiile she watches Mrs. Barring- ton for fear of being caught. Rosalind sees Sybil coming and makes a hurried, awkward exit.] [Sybil enters left door dressed in flowing costume, sajidals, flowing hair zvith garland of flozvers in her hands.] Mrs. Barrington. Hurry now, you mustn't waste one second. Sybil. No, I wont. [Throzvs kisses to mother as she goes out.] You are just the sweetest mother! Mrs. Barrington goes off left door; plays piano zi'Jiile Sybil dances an interpretative dance; exit Sybil left door.] Sybil. [Off^ stage.] Thank you so much, mummy dear. My dance will go all right now. [Enter Mrs. Barrington left door, sits down at her desk, picks up book, goes over papers nervously, etc.] 15 Where was I at? Oh, yes — "and they were undoubt- edly of Semitic origin." [Looks iip and thinks aloud.] I shall have to explain that to the ladies of the club. That means that they were white originally, but that climate and intermarriage so altered their color and features that they have been classed \ Looks zuise as she pronounces] "ethnologically as negroes." [Expresses satisfaction.] That's a long word; sounds well too. 'Tiiey were a peace-loving people." [Scream heard from outside right door.] Rosalind. [Enters right door, frightened and with rolling eyes, calls out.] He's gwine ter ketch me. [She holds her hands dropped from ivaist, trembling and sJiaking in line zvith her zvaist, and jumps up and dozvn.] Mrs. Barrington. [Alarmed.] What's the matter? Rosalind. [Still screaming, agitated as before, clutches Mrs. Barrington.] De man's gwine ter kill me. Mrs. Barrington. What man? Rosalind. [Peering around corner.] De man out dar in dat kitchen, ma'am. [Tries to shield herself be- hind Mrs. Barrington.] Mrs. Barrington. Are you getting behind so that he will kill me first? Rosalind. No, no, ma'am, don't yo' go. [Mrs. Barrington tries to free ■ herself.] Don't yo' go, ma'am ! Mrs. Barrington. Rosalind, let me go; let me go. [Rosalind's hold relaxes; Mrs. Barrington goes to right door, and timidly peers into kitchen; Mrs. Bar- rington starts back.] Rosalind. [Begins to holler louder.] He's gwine ter kill us, ma'am. [Man in butcher's clothes and bushy red zvhiskers zvith a big carz'ing knife in his hand comes in.] Mrs. Barrington. Why, this is the butcher, Rosa- lind. [To Butcher.] What's the matter? Butcher. Madam, there's something the matter with her. She began to yell when I asked her — 16 Mrs. Barrington. [Tuniiug to Rosalind.] Rosa- lind, stop screaming. This man won't hurt you. Rosalind. I standin' a' de sink a washin' de dishes, ma'am, en dis man he com' mighty nigh me wid dat big- knife, en he ax' me — Mrs. Barrington. Asked what? Rosalind. Fo' wun er m' ribs. Mrs. Barrington. For one of your Rosalind. Yes, ma'am, he ax' m' did I hab a rib ter spare ? Butcher. \Intcrruptiug.] Madam, that ain't what I asked her. Rosalind. Y's, ma'am, dat's w'at he ax' m'. Butcher. [Threateningly brandishes knife tozmrds Rosalind zuhen Mrs. Barrington turns her baek 1 I didn't— I asked— Rosalind. A takin' wun er m' ribs, he'd sho' kill Mrs. Barrington. [To Butcher.] What did you say to her? ^ Butcher. Madam, I asked her how about a spare rib today: [Mrs. Barrington laughs; Butcher brand- ishes knife at Rosalind behind Mrs. Barrington's baek, and Rosalind falls baek.^ Mrs. Barrington. [Laughing.] Didn't you ever hear of a spare rib, Rosalind? He didn't want one of your ribs. He wanted us to buy a spare rib of pig. Nothing today, thank you, butcher. Rosalind. 'Pon m' soul, ma'am, I nebber did wurk for des wun missus down South, en' h'r bu'cher, ma'am, he nebber did ax' m' dat. Butcher. Madam, that old black nigger can't tell a rib from a pig's foot. ^ RosALixND. Dat ole red bu'ch'r he' so 'cited he dunno nice color' lady w'en h' see wun. [Butcher, in disgust, goes out right door.] He sho' skeer'd me, ma'am. 1 nebber did year no man use dat sorter landwidge befo'. I des tink I ain't a gwine ter stay. Mrs. Barrington. [Puts her hand on Rosalind's shoulder.] Rosalind, you mustn't go. Rosalind. I des hatter go, ma'am. 17 Mrs. Barrington. Rosalind, I can't see anybody. If you go, who will answer the door? Rosalind. Yo' ole cook, ma'am, she answ'r, Mrs. Barrington. [Goes. t(^Jic{' desk.] Rosalind, go into the kitchen and do youF Vofk'. ' Rosalind. Ma'am, L des can.'t, nohow. Dat bu'cher, he skeer'd me outen m' skin, en I des too feered ter stay in dat kitchen. Den de marser he sez dat I mus' put eb'rytin' on de table ; you sez put nuthin on, den you sez Marser change er his mine. I reckin if he ain't done dat, he mout be gittin' mad wid hie. Mrs. Barrington. Mad with you? Well, you'll get used to that. Rosalind. I nebber could gedder useter de Marser nor to de bu'cher, ma'am ; den, dat Marser John, he v'ry funny. I too skeer'd ter stay wid yo'. Moighty sorry, kaze I tink yo' v'ry nice lady. Mrs. Barrington. Oh, for my old Hottentot nurse who never left me ! Rosalind. She color'd lady too, ma'am? Mrs. Barrington. Yes, Rosalind, her great-great- grandmother might have been related to yours. How I did love — Rosalind. W'at's dat vou sav, ma'am, dat vo' lub m'? Mrs. Barrington. I love the Hottentots so much, Rosalind, that I am writing a paper about them. Rosalind. Den, I des hatter stay, ma'am, cause lub's de wun ting I nebber kin getter way frum nohow. Mrs. Barrington. Thank you, Rosalind. Now go upstairs and make the beds. Remember that I love you and you'll forget the butcher. [Rosalind looks affec- tionately at Mrs. Barrington and goes out left door.] Rosalind. Dat's des w'at I gwine ter do, ma'am. Mrs. Barrington. [Sits dozen at her desk. She writes and reads.] "These peace-loving people were mostly shepherds, and were so fond of their cattle and sheep that thev couldn't bear to kill — [Stops and listens.] to kill — Rosalind ! [Rear doorbell rings.'] Mrs. Barrington. [Emphatically.] I shall not go 18 to the door. \ Calls.] Rosalind! Rosalind! \Gocs on writing and reading very fast. \ "After the Hottentots were driven away hy the Dutch farmers, they inter-mar- ried with the Bantues and gradually lost their — " [Rear doorbell rings again. She puts hands to ears.] Door- bells! ''Later, the English settled— settled— " [Mrs. Barrincton moves restlessly i)i Jicr cJiair as she hears the turning of the door knob, and she tries to hide behind the bookease just as a ivoman turns the door knob and looks in.] Mrs. Barrington. {Desperately. \ 1 am driven out. too. I shall have to — [Pulls herself together and goes to tJie door.] [Enter Mrs. De IMarr. ////";/ and dozcdily dressed in blaek silk dress, gold ehain, eanieo breastpin, and with a book in Jier hand. She speaks in a high-pitehed nasal voice and has a habit of sniffing. \ Mrs. Barrincton. [Shaking hands zcitli Mrs. Df^ Marr.] How do you do, Mrs. De Marr? I am so sorry you waited. | Offering a chair. \ Do sit down. Mrs. Dr. Marr. You're sorry I waited — Well, Vm going right away. Mrs. Barrington. [Apologetic] Why, Mrs. De Marr, I am delighted to see you. I confess I was rather busy stuffing papers into the waste basket. Mrs. De Marr. Really, you looked to me as if you were dodging behind the bookcase. [Looks pointedly at bookcase.] Mrs. Barrington. Well, you see I was expecting Rosalind, my new maid, to answ^er the bell. Mrs. De Marr. [With great surprise and interest: sits dozvn.] A new maid! So you are going to put on style when you get your aunt's money? Rosalind? Ahem — with a name like that, I suppose she is one or those trig and natty French maids. [Enter Rosalind left door, zvith. broom, duster, dust- pan, and towels in her hands. Mrs. De Marr looks at Rosalind from head to foot, surprise changing grad- ually to contempt.] 19 Rosalind. Did de do'r b'll ring, ma'am? [When she sees Mrs. De Mark she drops the dustpan.] 'Mrs. Barrington. Too late, Rosalind, but next time — Rosalind. Nex' time I year de b'll I run, ma'am. [Rosalind picks up the dustpan, but os she meets Mrs. De Marr's stare, she drops the broom. With her scared eyes still fixed on Mrs. De Marr, she slozvly picks up the broom, but drops the duster. Picks up duster, drops to7vels, and nervously goes out left door.] Mrs. De Marr. Ha ! ha ! | Laughs.] So she is go- ing to run ! Well, I should hope so ! Really I almost forgot — \^Laughs.\ that I came to bring you [Laughs.] this book. [Holds out book to Mrs. Harrington.] Mrs. Barrington. [Rises and takes book.] Oh! a book for me? Mrs. De Marr. Yes, my sister who works in the library sent it. Mrs. Barrington. [Glancing through the pages of the book. I Oh, this is the book I tried to get yesterday — How very thoughtful of your sister — Mrs. De Marr. Yes, she said you were terribly dis- appointed because she couldn't get it for you yesterday. Mrs. Barrington. Indeed, I was — how very kind of you to bring it. Mrs. De Marr. My sister wondered what in the world anybody could want of such a book — . Let me see — the title is — "Hottentots in an African Jungle." Mrs. Barrington. There are some references in it I want — Mrs. De Marr. Oh! you expect to find out about— about — your new maid. [Laughs.] Ha! ha! she doe-^ look like a Hottentot — from a jungle too, ha ! ha ! Mrs. Barrington. No! no! Mrs. De Marr, that isn't what I wanted the book for. Mrs. De Marr. [Glancing round the room.] Oh, it isn't — well — ahem — you said something about papers. [Looking at desk.] What a lot you have on your desk! My, but I hope you're not trying to be "litrary." 20 Mrs. Barrtngton. Well, not exactly — but I am writing a paper — Mrs. De Marr. Oh ! you're writing a i)aper — to get you into the Woman's Club? Then I hope you'll write on a subject that you know something about. Mrs. Barrington. I have certainly tried to learn all I could about the Hottentots ! Mrs. De Marr. What ! Do you mean to say you are writing about the Hottentots? Well, no wonder you're all fussed up. The club women have written about the most unheard-of things, but that beats them all. Mrs. Barrington. Then you belong to the club and know all about the — Mrs. De Marr. [Coiitcuiptuously. \ Oh, no, I'm not a member ; I don't know enough to join that club. Mrs. Barrington. 1 suppose you feel as I do, that the members are so clever, reading, studying, and writ- ing on all sorts — Mrs. De Marr. Not at all. Do you know how they write their ])apers? Mrs. Barrington. Do tell me, Mrs. De Marr; I'm looking for all the help I can get. Mrs. De Marr. They take a lot of books from the library — [Looks accusingly at the books in the case. Mrs. Barrington turns red.] and copy whole pages. Mrs. Barrington. How do you know? Mrs. De Marr. My sister doesn't sit in the library — with her eyes shut. Mrs. Barrington. Because, they take out books from the library, it doesn't mean that they copy the text. Mrs. De Marr. I heard a paper at the club myself-- ahem — I was a guest of Mrs. Tompkins — I had read the whole thing in a book my sister gave me. Now, what more proof do you want? Mrs. Barrington. - Yes, but not verbatim? Mrs. De Marr. I suppose it was for bait, but you see, I didn't bite. [Laughs. \ Ha ! ha ! ha ! They don't give anybody credit for knowing as much as they do, but thev can't fool me. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Mrs. Barrington. That might happen— unexpected 21 interruptions might take so much time that the author couldn't finish — Mrs. De Mark. Well, the way these women get themselves up to read their papers before the club doesn't look as if there was any lack of time. Why, my dear, they even run in debt to buy their clothes. Mrs. Barrington. Really, Mrs. De Marr, I don't believe they spend more than — than — you or I, but they get from contact with other women, well, a style — what the French call "chic." Mrs. De Marr. Is that what you call it? Well, how many husbands do you suppose stay at home evenings while their wives are at the club getting style? Mrs. Barrington. If they are like Mr. Barrington, they never think of going out. Mrs. De Marr. What a simple woman you are, Mrs. Barrington. You certainly have a lot to learn about men. Mrs. Barrington. Well, there are many places to — Mrs. De Marr. That's what 1 found out when 1 joined a club. There were so many restaurants and movies that my husband liked to go to that he wanted me to join all the clubs. Mrs. Barrington. [Ecstatically.] What a joy to feel that you could belong to all the clubs. Mrs. De Marr. Joy, indeed, and let him go out every night. Mrs. Barrington. [SytiipatJirtically.] Oh, I see, his health is delicate. Night air didn't agree with him. Mrs. De Marr. It agreed with him all right — but it was pretty hard on me — He talked all the time about a movie actress — Mrs. Barrington. Really? Mrs. De Marr. I didn't mind about the actress — but he lost interest in our neighbors and wouldn't listen to a word I said. Mrs. Barrington. How you must have suffered — Don't you think children in the home keep a man's in- terest? Mrs. De Marr. Not in the least. Men are just as 22 bad as the club women in that respect — They don't stay in the house long enough to know their own children. And how they let them behave ! Mrs Barrington. [Piqued and impatient.] Well, Mrs. De Marr, I am very proud of my children, and everybody says they behave beautifully. Mrs. De Marr. Well, Mrs. Barrington, if I had children, money would never tempt me to neglect them for the sake of belonging to a club — [i^/jr^^.?.] I might speak a little plainer, — but I never under any circum- stances give advice to my neighbors. Mrs. Barrington. [7^/.yr.j.] A very good rule, Mrs. De Marr, — must you go? Mrs. De Marr. Yes, I must be going — Good-bye and — [As Mrs. Barrington shakes hands and is ac- companying Mrs. De Marr to rear door, loud talking is heard on left. Rosalind rushes in frightened and shout- ing, holding up skirt, and mounts on Mrs. De Marr's chair.] Rosalind. De mouse! de mouse! de mouse! [Mrs. De Marr and Mrs. Barrington rush toward chairs. Mrs. Barrington stands on her desk chair, Mrs. De Marr on right centre chair. They all ivrap their skirts around them.] Mrs. Barrington. Where, where is the mouse? Rosalind. Ma'am, I wus upsta'rs a makin' er de bed, uh, uh, and Marser John he com' and he sez ter look at him. I did look at Marser John, I did, den he sez look at de bed. I look at de bed and der wuz a mouse, uh, uh, uh, a runnin' on de sheet, uh, uh. uh ! Mrs. Barrington. Rosalind, go and ask Master John to come down. Rosalind. [Rolling her eyes.] Lord a massy, ma'am, I can't go nohow, uh, uh, uh ! Mrs. Barrington. [Calls.] John! John! John! John. [Enters left door.] Yes, maw, I'm here. Mrs. Barrington. John, quick, get the trap and catch the mouse. John. He don't need no trap, maw. [John put. s 23 his hand on his pocket flap, holding the mouse; goes toward Rosalind, zvho shakes ivith terror.'] Rosalind. Uh, uh, iih — [Mrs. De Marr holds up her skirt and measures distance from John.] Mrs. Barrington. Take him away! Take him away ! John. Say, don't be scared of a nice httle mouse. Rosalind. Uh, uh, uh, Marser John! [John next moves tozvard Mrs. De Marr.] Mrs. De Marr. [Terrified and holding skirt a little tighter.] Don't come near me, you rascal ! John. [Takes mouse out of his pocket and puts it on the floor.] Maw% I'll lend him to you. [The tzvo zvomen dance up and dozvn on their chairs until they notice that the mouse makes a humming noise and runs round and round in a circle. They zvatcJi it until it runs dozvn. Rosalind stands on her chair.] Mrs. Barrington. [Steps dozvn.] Oh, it's a me- chanical mouse ! [Rosalind, still frightened and perplexed, stands on her chair after Mrs. Barrington has stepped dozvn.] Rosalind. Ma'am, is de mouse dead? Mrs. Barrington. No, Rosalind ; he never was alive — it's just a toy mouse. Rosalind. I nebber did seed that kind o' mouse befo'. [During the foUozving she looks suspiciously at the mouse and begins to come off her chair; stops and looks at the mouse and begins to descend, but isn't convinced that the mouse zvill not run after her. She returns and stands firmly on chair. Gradually, zcith her terrified eyes on the mouse, sJie steps on the floor and moves tozvard the door.] Mrs De Marr. [Steps dozvn.] So that's a sample of your son's beautiful behavior! Mrs. Barrington. Oh, that's just one of John's jokes. I am so sorry he frightened you. Mrs. De Marr. Well, I'll say good-bye to you — your beautiful son, his mouse, and your maid. Quite a men- agerie ! Ha ! ha ! [Laughs.] Good-bye, 24 Mrs. Barrington. [Disturbed.] Good-bye, Mrs. De Marr. [Exit Mrs. De Marr rear door.] Mrs. Barrington. What a gossiping woman, but why is she ? — Oh — I remember she couldn't get into the club. I'll lock the door so that no one else can get in. [Locks door.] Rosalind. [Trying to prevent her. ] Oh, ma'am, pie's' don't lock de door. Mrs. Barrington. Why, Rosalind, you're not going out. Rosalind. Beggin' yo' pardon, ma'am, but I can't stay her' wid dat mous', and I can't stay in de ki'chen on count de bu'cher, and I 'feer'd, ma'am, dat Marser John he find mo' mice on de beds. 1 jest reckin' I hatter go dis time. Mrs. Barrington. But, Rosalind, you said you couldn't leave my love. Rosalind. Dat mouse he skeer'd all de lub out o' me. Mrs. Barrington. But if you'll stay, I'll give you some more. Rosalind. I'm dat skeered, ma'am, dat I ain't no good ter yo' nohow. I feels bad, I do, but I des musser git m' cloze en go, ma'am. [Exit Rosalind rig lit.] Mrs. Barrington. Now I must do some rapid writing. [Goes to desk and zvrites.] "The Hottentots fought so desperately that they routed the Dutch. For some years they were not molested — \ Stops and listens as voices are heard outside.] molested — molested." Mary Ann. You should! [Off stage rear.] Man's Voice. I'll do nothing of the sort, Mary Ann. [Knocking on rear door.] Mary Ann. Oh, yes, you will, because it's right. Man's Voice. [Outside.] Yes, you think it's right, but I think it's all wrong. Mary Ann. [Pounding on the door.] Mother, un- lock the door. Mrs. Barrington. No, Mary Ann, I can't lose a minute. My paper — Mary Ann. [Still pounding.] Mother, is your paper 25 more important than your daughter? You are an un- natural mother. You are neglecting — Man's Voice. Please, Mrs. Harrington, it is very important. Mrs. Barrington. [IVrifcs and reads.] "The Eng- lish came to Cape Colony." [Puts her Jiand up to her head-in distress as she hears Mary Ann pound on back stage door.] Mary Ann. Mother, please unlock the door. Never mind the old Hottentots ; attend to me ! Mrs. Barrington. [Distraught, but still zvriting and reading.] ''Took away the liberties of the Hottentots and reduced — reduced — " [Mary Ann shakes the door. Mrs. Barrington zvith both hands up to her head in despair unlocks the door. Mary Ann and Peter, young and effeminate, fat and short, dressed in tennis suit, fall into the room talking and gesticulating. Mrs. Barring- ton dolefully sits at her desk and tries to read.] Mary Ann. I tell you, it is right. Peter. I tell you, it's all wrong. Mrs. Barrington. Dear me, what's the matter with you two ? Peter. She says I must — Mary Ann. Of course he must. Mrs. Barrington. [Turns, facing Peter and Mary Ann.] Must what? Peter. Do all the things Mary Ann says. Mrs. Barrington. What are all these "musts'' about ? Peter. [Counts them off.] There are so many "musts," Mrs. Barrington. Mary Ann says I must vote and lecture for women's suffrage, I must carry a ban- ner, and I must march in all the parades. Mrs. Barrington. Of course,- Peter, you'd cut a figure ; but why must you ? Peter. But, Mrs. Barrington, that isn't nearly all the "musts." Mrs. Barrington. Put your "musts" in your pocket. I cannot take time to discuss them now. 26 Peter. Please, Mrs. Barrington, don't make me wait. I must know this minute. Mrs. Barrington. Another must, well, I'll add tzvo more. You must both go and adjust your differences. I must work on my paper. Peter. But the point is, Mrs. Barrington, unless 1 agree to these things today, Mary Ann will not promise to marry me. Mrs. Barrington. [Greatly surprised. | Marry you ! Pet]-:r. Yes, Mrs. Barrington, that's what all this is about. Mrs. Barrington. Oh, I see, Mary Ann has begun to train you already. Mary Ann. Of course, I have; if you had started father right, you wouldn't have had to wait for Aunt Mary to make a will before you could get his permission to join the club. Peter. You see, I love Mary Ann, and I hope she loves — Marv Ann. Not unless you promise to — Peter. To march. Why, it hurts my feet, Mary Ann. and I'm too short anyway to carry a banner. Don't you think she might carry the banner? Marv Ann. Peter, I don't want a coward. Even if you are little, you might be a hero. Mrs. Barrington. If you marry Mary Ann, Peter, you will be a hero. Peter. But she says I must furnish a doctor's cer- tificate to the effect that I have never smoked, chewed, nor indulged in alcoholic liquors, and that I must sub- scribe to the single standard of morality. Mrs. Barrington. All these things are of vital im- portance if you wish to marry Mary Ann. Mary Ann. [Jubilaut.l There, Peter, you see mother agrees with me. Peter. Oh, well, if you both think I ought to, I'll do it, but I can't stretch my imagination to the other re- quirement. Mrs. Barrington. What is it, Peter? Peter. She insists that I must take a course in the 27 '^Bringing--up of Children" at the Domestic Science School for Fathers. Mary Ann. Well, why shouldn't you? Peter. I suggested, Mrs. Barrington, that we might wait until — we had — we had — the children — Mary Ann. That'll be too late. You'll be too busy taking care of them. Peter. Couldn't I leave them for an hour or so in the evening? Mary Ann. Not much. T might miss a suffrage meeting. Peter. When there is no meeting, wouldn't you give me an evening off ? Mary Ann. If you love me you'll stay at home every evening and tend the children. Peter. Mary Ann, I do love you. I can't live with- out you. If I agree to take the Domestic Science Course for Fathers, and tend the children when they cry, and agree never to go out in the evening — Mary Ann. Don't forget that 1 miist have a chummy roadster. Peter. You can't expect me to buy a chummy road- ster on $1,-300 a year. [Takes box of candy out of his pocket.] Wouldn't this box of candy do instead? Mary Ann. Peter, do you think I could love a man who offers me candy when I want a chummy roadster? Peter. Well, where can I get the money to buy one? Mary Ann. Understand, I'll have nothing to do with you until you have the money. Why, you have no more backbone than a shrimp. I ask nothing of you, and you balk like a steer. {Exit Mary Ann left door.] Peter. [Drops head in his hands on back of chair centre stage.] Mrs. Barrington, you heard what she said. She won't marry me. I'm not a shrimp, and I don't balk like a steer. Mrs. Barrington. It's quite bad enough loving Mary Ann, but marrying Alary Ann might be a great deal worse. Peter. No one gives me any sympathy. 28 Mrs. Barrington. Peter, do you want my advice > I 1 urning round, stops zvritiny.] Peter. Oh, yes, anybody's advice. Mrs. Barrington. Stay and help me. If I don't hnish this paper by ten o'clock, I shall lose $100,000 Peter. Oh, Mrs. Barrington, wouldn't that be dread- ,A'r, } "^ ^^ hX^mt, but won't vou have some candy ^ yujfers her caudy.^ Mrs. Barrington. This is no time for candy Peter but help me. Get pen and ink and copy this part of my manuscript. [Peter goes to desk, gets pen and paper leaves box open.] Peter. If you get the $100,000, you'll buy a chummy roadster ? ' -^ Mrs. Barrington. Oh, I'll buy anything to get this paper done. Peter. Then Alary Ann could let me off on the chummy roadster. 1 could do the rest. The course in bringing up — Mrs. Barrington. Forget Mary Ann and get ready to do cop\ing. [Mrs. Barrington takes manuscript and places it in front of Peter.] Now will you begin here. [Peter sighs and begins to copy. Mrs. Barring- ton goes back to desk, zcrites, looks up snddenl'yA I have it, Peter, I have it. Peter. The chummy roadster? _ Mrs. Barrington. 'Oh. no. I see how I can save time. Peter. [Face falls.] Oh ! Mrs. Barrington. " Mrs. De Marr said that the papers read before the club were not original, but were copied from books. If I do that, I may be able to finish — Peter. Mary Ann wouldn't approve of that at all. Mrs. Barrington. I can't help it, Peter. I am desperate. \ Enter Rosalind, right door, dressed for street in gay attire — short skirt zvith white stockings, fancy shoes, feathers; carries tzvo big boxes, a bag, an umbrella, a fan; hair done in a prolonged psyche knot zvhile hat goes 29 up in proportion; mores dozen centre toi^'ard Mrs. Har- rington. Mrs. Barrington. Oh, Rosalind, I haven't time now to speak to you. You — Rosalind. I des hatter go, ma'am. Yo' a gwine ter pay me, ma'am? Mrs. Barrington. Yes, yes. If I can find some money. [Turns to desk, looks for money, pulls out papers and drawers. Seattering them on the floor, she finally hands Rosalind a hill. Rosalind in trying to take it drops her things and picks each up in turn, and finally takes money and puts it into Jier belt, while Mrs. Barrington sits and ivrites.l^ Rosalind. V mighty sorry ter leb yo' lub, ma'am, but I nebber could gitter useter Marser John and hi' mouse^ nor ter de bu'cher, nor de marser. I lub you ; an' I v'ry, v'ry sorry, but I des musser go. Go'by, ma'am. [Makes an elaborate bozu and her liat falls off. She picks it up and, after baiancing herself and her baggage, goes.\ Go'by, ma'am. Go'by, Marser. Mrs. Barrington. If I ever write another paper, I'll begin two years ahead. Peter, have you finished copying? [Peter shakes his head.] Oh, Peter, copy, copy faster and faster. Wlien you've finished that, take this big book [Hands Peter big book. \ and copy from here to there. I have hardly time to dress for the club. Remember Mary Ann and the chummy roadster depend upon your speed in copying. [Exit Mrs. Barringtox left door.^ Peter. [Copies as he reads.'] "The Hottentots were so useful to the English that, had it not been for — [Gaz- ing in space.] for Mary Ann, they would have lost the Boer War. Arthur Funnerman seeing — seeing — her cruelty tried to arouse sympathy and to give justice to the lover. The plan was to reserve for them — for them — a chummy roadster just as the American people have done for their Indians." [John enters right door, dressed iji soldier's ujiifonn icitJi father's high boots on a)id carrying a drum. Does a military march, beating his drum, and stubbing his toe^, 30 stops.] Catling guns and submarines, Peter, what you doing here? Peter. Working for a chuniniv roadster. John. That's a funny way to work for a chummy roadster. Peter. It seems funny when you're young, but when you're as old as 1, it's pretty serious. John. \Xq\\, V\\ tell you what Pm doing. Pm Uncle Sam looking for the Kaiser, but, gee ! my boots flop so I can't march fast enough to catch him. \ Love song begins off stage. \ Peter. [Cets up zcitli rapt expression ; liste)is.\ Listen, that's Mary Ann singing. Oh, Pm going to her. [Rushes through right door, leaving on table tzvo sepa- rate piles of papers and a box of eandy.\ John. I don't know what he's got; but he's got it. \Looks at Jiis boots, singing off stage stops, marches back and forth beating drum.] These boots are so big I can't march in them. Gee ! 1 know what PU do. | Sees papers. Grabs the first pile, sits down on floor, takes boots off and stuffs papers into the toes. Gets up, marehes around stage again trying his boots. Beats drum zvhile he says] : — With my boots all stuiTed so fine, I can surely reach the Rhine. Pll give the Kaiser fits. And kick him into bits. That's what Pll do wnth my big shoes. For Yankee Doodle Doo's. Gee whiz, this drum strap hurts my neck. [He takes off drum and leaves it on centre ehair and discovers Peter's box of candy.] Gosh ! Look at the candy. [Takes a handful and puts into his mouth; chews zvith complete satisfaction until he hears Peter's voice, zvhen he hurriedlv empties the box into mouth and pockets; runs and gets behind right centre screen, leaving his drum on the table. Peter and Mary Ann enter rear door, zvith tennis racquets, hats, and sweaters.] Mary Ann. [Looking at empty candy box.] Oh, the candy's all gone. 31 Peter. Never mind, if you'll only love me, I'll buy all you want. [Grinning sheepishly and moving fozvard Mary Ann.] You do, don't you? Mary Ann. [Moving away.] Well, I can't tell you until you get the money to buy — Peter. When your mother gets the $100,000, she is going to buy the chummy roadster. Tell me that you love me, just a little bit. [Tries to put his arm around Mary Ann's zvaist.] Mary Ann. [Pushes his arm azcay.] Oh, no, Peter, none of that — yet; not until you promise that you'll never oppose me in anything. Peter. Fll promise, if you'll only love me. Mary Ann. Yes, yes, I think I do, but you'll take the course — Peter. Pll take anything, and I'll take a kiss right now. [Kisses Mary Ann, making eonsiderahle noise. \ John. [Looks over screen, laughs, and imitates noise of kiss.~\ Doughnuts and peppermints, that's some kiss. [Continues to imitate kiss.] Ha! ha! I'll squeal on you. I'll tell maw and paw and Sybil. [Mary Ann is de- cidedly embarrassed.] Peter. You rascal, you took the candy. But say, John, if you'll promise not to tell, I'll give you another box. John. I have had all I want, and I'll tell what nice noisy candy kisses Mary Ann gives. [Imitates kiss.] Mary Ann. [Starts tozvard John.] I'll give you a thrashing. [Discovers John's drum on chair, picks it up, and turns to John; she beats the drum while she sings : — Johnnie, get your drum, get your drum. Johnnie, get your drum, get your drum. John. Gee, Mary Ann, don't take my drum. If you'll give it back, I won't squeal on you, honest I wont. Mary Ann. Then promise. John. [Crosses himself.] Honest Injun, I promise. Mary Ann. [Gives him drum.] Here, take your drum and get out quick. Mrs. Barrington. [Enters in a very hurried man- 32 ner, well gowned for club, goes to table, looks at papers.] What, you back, Mary Ann ? Peter, I am ready for my paper. Peter. [Looks admiringly at Mary Ann, but an- swers indifferently.] It's over there on the table. Mrs. Barrington. [Looking over papers.] These aren't my copied papers. These are only mixed-iiD sheets. ' ^ Peter. Why, I left the copied papers in a pile on that table. Mrs. Barrington. Peter, please attend to me. Come here and show me the pile, Peter. [Goes to table, looks over papers, is sur- prised.] They're not here, but I swear I left them right here on this spot. Mrs. Barrington. Well, you see they're not here now. Peter. [Handling the sheets.] Couldn't we put these together? Mrs. Barrington. No, they're not nearly all there. Why in the world did I ever trust them to you ? Peter. Now you'll think 1 won't be able to take care of Mary Ann. Mrs. Barrington. A man in love can't be trusted with anything. Peter. ]Pathetically.] You will let me have Mary— Mary Ann. Peter, I won't marry you unless mother gets the money, so get busy and look for the papers. Let's all look for them. [All took for them except Mrs. Barrington, zvho in despair slumps into a chair zveep- mg.] Mrs. Barrington. Find them tomorrow when it is too late. It's after ten o'clock now. Oh, I won't be able to ^join the club or tell them about the Hottentots, and we'll lose Auntie's money. Oh, dear! It's dreadful! Mary Ann. Has there been anybody in the room?. Peter. I was here when I heard you singing. Mary Ann. Never mind me, Peter. Tell us where you left mother's papers. 33 Mr. Barrington. [Enters rear door, looks at zvatcJi.] What! haven't you gone, Bertha? It's ten fifteen now. Mrs. Barrington. \Gocs to Mr. Barrington.] Oh, George, it's dreadful ! Mr. Barrington. What's dreadful? Mrs. Barrington. We won't get Auntie's money. Mr. Barrington. Why, what's the matter? Haven't you finished your paper yet ? Mrs. Barrington. Of course I finished it. Mr. Barrington. Then why don't you take it and go? Mrs. Barrington. Peter left it — Mr. Barrington. What on earth was Peter doing with your paper ? Mrs. Barrington. While I was dressing, Peter fin- ished copying it, and when I came down, it was gone. [Peter is frightened.] Mr. Barrington. \ Angrily. \ Peter, get that paper and give it to Mrs. Barrington. Peter. [Terrified.] I left it — Mr. Barrington. [Goes toward Peter and takes- hold of him.] Never mind where you left it. Do you hear what I say ? Mrs. Barrington. George, don't hurt Peter. He isn't to blame ; Fm to blame. Mr. Barrington. Of course he's to blame. He lost your paper, didn't he ? Mrs. Barrington. There wouldn't have been a paper to lose if I hadn't told Aunt Mary that I wanted to join the club and that you wouldn't let me unless — unless — [Mr. Barrington relaxes his hold on Peter.] Mr. Barrington. Unless what? Out with it. Mrs. Barrington. Unless she made her will that way. Mary Ann. Bully Tor you, mother! Mr. Barrington. Bertha Barrington, you — you dared to tell her that ! Mrs. Barrington. Pm sorry to offend you, George, but I did so want to belong to the club that I asked Aunt Mary to put it just as she did— in her will, 34 Mr. l^>ARRjN(rroN. ^'oii deceitful woman! You de- serve to lose every penny of the $J 00,000. Mrs. Barrington. Reallv, dear, it will be terrible if we lose that money, but you have criven me permission to jom the club, haven't you? Mr. Barrington. No— not until vou find your paper I John enters, heating his drum and marchinq, indif- ferent to the seene:\ Mary Ann. John, vou were here. Did vou see mother's papers lyings on the table? John. I don't care nothino: 'bout old papers. I am .G:omg- to catch the Kaiser with mv big boots. Mr. Barrington. \Sei::es John by the collar:] John, you rascal, stoj) beatin.e: that drum. Did you see a ])de of ])apers on the table? John. Sure. sure. Paw, those old papers, T know where they are. Mr. Barr[N(;ton. \ Shaking John.] Where are they^ Quick ! John. T stuffed them into my boots. [Mrs. Bar- rington. Marv Ann and Peter strike different atti- tudes m consternation and rush round John, centre stage lower. Mr. Barring.ton lands John on the floor. Mary Ann sei-es right boot and pulls it off. Peter sei-es left boot and pulls it off. Thev grab papers, pass them to Mr. Barrington, 7i'ho passes them to Mur,. Barrington.] All. Boots ! boots ! boots ! Mr. Barrington. From Hottentots to Boots! John. \Sqnirming.\ Marv Ann, vou're pullin^T my leg off. Peter. \ Counting sheets; telephone rings '] 4 — 5 (1—8—10. ■ ' Mary y\NN. \Counting sheets; telephone rings — stops.~\ 7— 9— 11— Fd like to take your legs off. \fele- phone rings again and keeps ringing.] Mr. Barrington. Oh ! that telephone ; here. Bertha, take your papers and see that you hang on to them th^'s time. \Goes to telephone.'] Peter. \Counting sheets.] 12 — 13 — 14 — 15. 35 Mr. Barrington. Hello — yes — what? Mary Ann. [^Counting sheets.] Ki — IT — 18 — 19. Mr. Barrington. What's that? [Puts hand behind ear; irritable.] Keep quiet — I can't hear while you are all talking! Mary Ann. [Whispers and looks at Mrs. Barring- ton.] 20. [Mrs. Barrington puts the papers together and nods approval; she starts to rush out, but Mr. Barrington zvaves his hand, indieating that she must stop. She stops.] Mr. Barrington. Gone, no, she is just going. [To Mrs, Barrington.] Hold on. Bertha. Yes, yes, I'll take the message — the Secretary forgot to notify Mrs. Barrington — yes, I get that — candidates for membership are not admitted to the business meeting at ten o'clock — but are requested to present — to present their papers at eleven o'clock — you said eleven — yes, yes, I'll tell her — [Curtain.] Suincrville Journal Print. 36 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS g_ 015 988 qST