5 S^'^^ 
 
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WHAT'S WRONG 
 
 M GomcOs in ^bree Bets 
 
 ai 
 
 FREDERICK BALLARD 
 
 Copyright, 1914, by David Belasco 
 
 New York 
 SAMUEL FRENCH 
 
 PUBLISHER 
 
 28-30 WEST 38th Street 
 
 London 
 
 SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 
 
 26 Southampton Street 
 
 STRAND 
 
'IfJ^L^ 
 
 WHAT'S WRONG 
 
 CAST. 
 
 George H. Smith A business man 
 
 Perry Dodge Another business man 
 
 Eddie A boy in Smith's office 
 
 WooDROW A boy on Smith's farm 
 
 " Red " 1 
 
 " Heavy " ^ Farmhands. 
 
 " Bill '' J 
 
 Messenger Boy 
 
 Jennie Brown 
 
 Mrs. Perry Dodge 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh 5". P. A. I. H. 
 
 Phoebe Snow 
 Flossie 
 Agnes 
 Tellie 
 
 SCENES. 
 
 Act I. New York City. 
 
 Act H. Ne-W' Jersey. 
 
 Act lU. a N^-:tv York subsurb. 
 
 Time. — Present 
 
 MAY -5 I'^i^ 
 
 t 
 
 2 
 )C1.D 3()9'12 . 
 
 ^^V/ 
 
r 
 
 WHAT'S WRONG 
 
 ^\ 
 
 ACT I 
 
 Scene: — The private office of the George H. Smith 
 Land Company. 
 
 To R. and L. of center, rear wall, are windows 
 through zvhich can be seen the roofs of lower 
 office' buildings, church steeples and a general 
 view of the city and harbor. 
 At c. of R. wall, a door leading into general 
 office and waiting-room. Rear wall, near r. 
 corner, a door opening into stenographer's 
 room. When this door is open, the stenog- 
 raphers desk, typewriter, etc., can be seen. 
 Left corner, a clothes cabinet. l. c. and 
 against wall, a large filing case for filing copies 
 of deeds and other legal papers. L. C, and 
 well down, a fiat desk. Behind it a pivot chair. 
 To R. of it, a straight chair. Upon it, a tele- 
 phone and two stacks of legal looking manu- 
 scripts covered with light blue paper covers. 
 The stack at upper end of desk is neatly ar- 
 ranged; the stack at lower end is scattered. 
 Aat lower end of desk, on its down-stage side, 
 is a speaking tube, or hose, and a push button. 
 {This tube is connected with the outer office). 
 On the L. Tvall is a large map of North America. 
 The rear and right walls are decorated with 
 
4 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 enlarged framed photographs of viezvs in 
 regions where Smith has land interests. 
 Following the rise of the curtain, there is a 
 slight pause during Tvhich the ticking of the 
 typewriter keys is heard off rear. Then Smith 
 enters briskly, R. d. 
 
 Smith is a good-looking man, sometvhat tall 
 and, although hut 35 years of age, looks much 
 older. He wears a dark business suit which 
 needs pressing, and a black derby hat; has the 
 haggard expression of a sleepless, over-worked, 
 improperly fed office man zvho is alzvays under 
 high nervous tension and constant activity. 
 He does everything rapidly — reads, talks, 
 moves, thinks rapidly. In fact so great is his 
 ''speed'' and so tremiendous the nervous pres- 
 sure under zuhich he incessantly works, that 
 one wonders how he can keep it up. His gen- 
 eral appearance, zvhich is somezvhat careless, 
 is that of an idtra-busy mono-ambitious man. 
 As Smith enters, the telephone, rings. Smith 
 hastens to desk and grabs 'phone from desk 
 and jerks its receiz'er from hook. 
 
 Smith, (Quickly and almost savagely) Hello! 
 — Yes ! — You've got the wrong Smith ! (lamming 
 the receiver into its hook, he puts the telephone 
 on the desk, presses button and seizes speaking- 
 tube. In speaking-tube:) Tell Miss Waite to come 
 in right away. (He drops the tube and starts to- 
 wards clothes cabinet. Telephone rings again. He 
 rushes to desk and jerks receiver from hook) 
 Hello ! — Yes— Yes, this is the George H. Smith 
 Campany ! — Minnesota land ? — How much ? — You 
 bet your life I'll buy it — Any time. I'm always 
 here! (lams receiver into hook and jerks out 
 watch) Two minutes all shot to thunder! (Enter 
 Flossie Waite, somezifhat listlessly, rear door. 
 She is the conventional stenographer—dark skirt. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 5 
 
 ivhite shirt-waist, black tie and fluffy hair. 20, vain 
 and flippant. She is quite jaded because she danced 
 late the night before. As she crosses to desk. Smith 
 thrusts ivatch into pocket and jerks a long, legal- 
 looking document from his inside-coat pocket. 
 Manuscript is folded three times. To save time, 
 Smith hastens to Flossie. Polite but in a hurry) 
 Make two copies of this. {Shoving it into her 
 hand) File one and bring the other to me, quick! 
 (Returns quickly to desk and Flossie starts de- 
 liherately toivard rear door) That document des- 
 cribes valuable land in Dakota, so be careful. 
 
 Flossie. (Glancing over shoulder at him and a 
 trifle impudently) I'm always careful. (Smith 
 jerks off hat and hangs it in cabinet) 
 
 Smith. (Impatiently to Flossie, now at rear 
 door) Vm going to South America to-morrow and 
 there's a million things Fve got to straighten up 
 before I leave. Hurry! (Flossie glances at him 
 resentfidly. She doesn't intend to hurry for any- 
 one. Then, tilting her head arrogantly, she exits 
 rear door) 
 
 (Enter Eddik. the office boy, R. d. He enters 
 briskly with a cablegram envelope and goes to- 
 wards desk, but Smith meets him to r. of it. ) 
 
 Eddie. (Holding out envelope) Cablegram. 
 
 (SiiiTH grabs it, rips it open, reads it hastily, 
 Eddie, meanwhile, exits briskly R. d. The 
 cablegram read. Smith pushes push-button 
 and seizes speaking tube.) 
 
 Smith. (In tube) Miss Waite. For dictation ! 
 Right away! (Dropping tube, he picks up cable- 
 gram and paces up and dozim left. Re-enter 
 Flossie rear d., note-book in hand. As she enters) 
 Cablej^ram for South America! (Flossie, taking 
 
6 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 her time, starts towards the desk; Smith watches 
 her a moment^ as if puzzled, then pleasantly 
 ironical) Are you ill or in love? 
 
 Flossie. Neither. 
 
 Smith. {Exasperated but supplicatingly, not 
 harshly) Then for goodness' sake, hurry! (Flos- 
 sie goes to desk as deliberately as before and sits 
 to R. of it. Smith, pacing, dictates rapidly) Senor 
 Pedro Alphonso Monto Carlo DePisa, Buenos 
 Ayres, Argentine, Got it? 
 
 Flossie. Yes. 
 
 Smith. (Dictating) Yours received. Sailing 
 to-morrow. Meet you Buenos Ayres. Smith. 
 (Tossing cablegram to desk) Call a messenger and 
 send it at once. (He grabs telephone and Flossie 
 rises. During follozving, she goes deliberately up 
 to rear door. In telephone) Bryant 8763. (Im- 
 patient. Central has misunderstood him) No, no! 
 Bryant! William Cullen Thanatopsis Bryant! 
 (Slight pause) It's been busy all day! When its 
 open, call me! John 486. (As he jams receiver 
 into hook Fddie enters R. d. ) 
 
 Eddie. (At door) A gentleman from Maine. 
 
 Smith. (Sharply, as he sits in pivot chair) 
 What does he want? 
 
 Eddie. He wants to trade an island in a lake for 
 an automobile. 
 
 Smith. This is a land office — not a garage. 
 (Grabs manuscript and jerks it open) 
 
 Eddie. But he says 
 
 Smith. (Emphatically) Busy! 
 
 Eddie. (Meekly) Yes, sir. {Exits r. 1^. ) 
 
 (As Eddie exits. Smith glances at Flossie zvho is 
 now at rear d.) 
 
 Smith. Miss Waite. (Flossie stops and 
 glances at him. Then ironically but not rudely) 
 That cablegram is to be sent now — to-day. (The 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. . 7 
 
 telephone rings. Smith snatches it. Exit Flossik 
 uppishly rear d., during follonmig. In telephone) 
 Bryant 8763? {Annoyed) Oh! — {Mellowing) 
 Oh, hello, Perr}\ What is it?^ — Out to your place 
 for dinner? — This evening? Impossible! — Sorry! 
 G'bye. {As he jams receiver into hook, enter 
 
 F.ODIE) 
 
 Eddie. A gentleman from Mexico. 
 
 Smith. Busy! {Begins to read MS.) 
 
 Eddie. He says he has some of the finest land 
 in the world. 
 
 Smith. {Rapidly reading) Tell him to fortify 
 it. Then I'll talk business. 
 
 Eddie. But he says 
 
 Smith. {Glaring at him) Busy! 
 
 Eddie. {Jumping) Yes, sir. {Exit quickly) 
 
 Smith. {In telephone) Bryant 8763? — Perry, I 
 tell you I can't come out! G'bye! {He jams re- 
 ceiver into hook. Enter Eddie, card in hand. He 
 hastens to Smith zvho snatches card from him and 
 (fiances at it) Who is she? What does she look 
 like? 
 
 Eddie. Solid. 
 
 Smith. Show her in — quick. 
 
 Eddie. Yes, sir. {Starts tozvards door naturally) 
 
 Smith. Hurry! (Eddie exits quickly) 
 
 Smith. {Scowling at card) Mrs. Lee-Hugh, 
 hy])henated. {Adjusts his tie quickly. Eddie opens 
 R. D.. and steps aside; Mrs. Lee-Hugh strides into 
 room. She is a large and very striking society wo- 
 man of 45, strikingly gowned. Exit Eddie, closing 
 door quietly. Going to welcome her. Politely, hut 
 rapidly) Mrs. Lee-Hugh? {Indicating chair at r. 
 of desk) Sit down! {Sitting as she crosses to 
 chair) What can I do for you — city property or a 
 farm? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Sitting in front of him) 
 Horse money. 
 
 Smith. ( Dum bfo u n ded ) What ? 
 
8 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Calmly and plainly) Horse 
 money. 
 
 Smith. Are you in the wrong office or is this 
 blackmail ? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Neither. You are Mr. 
 George H. Smith and / am a bona fide solicitor for 
 the Society for the Preservation of Aged and In- 
 digent Horses. 
 
 Smith. Madam, Lm entirely too busy to monkey 
 with horses. (Looks at his watch) 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. But we want every successful 
 business man in New York to make at least one 
 poor, old, wornout horse happy. 
 
 Smith. (Impatiently, as he jerks open upper 
 drawer of desk) How much? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Very deliberately and 
 sweetly) Well, out on our retired-horse farm in 
 New Jersey where the cost of living is comparatively 
 low, an old horse can live nicely on two dollars a 
 day. 
 
 Smith. So can 1 and I don't have to go to Jersey, 
 either. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (With a very, very szveet 
 smile) Ah, but you are not a horse. 
 
 Smith. (Politely, but ironically) Does that in- 
 clude music and flowers? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. No, sir — just oats and hay and 
 a nice warm blanket to sleep in. 
 
 Smith. (As he opens check book which he has 
 taken from, desk drawer) Wliat is to be the dura- 
 tion of this equestrian bliss? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Perplexed) I don't quite 
 understand you. 
 
 Smith. How long am I supposed to pension the 
 animal ? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. For life. 
 
 Smith. (Looking at her shrewdly) How long 
 is life? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Until the horse dies. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 9 
 
 Smith. But how will I know when it dies? 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. We shall send you its funeral 
 
 bill; 
 
 Smith. Do you think for one minute that I'm 
 going to squander money that way ? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Rising, indignant) Why, 
 Mr. Smith, you were recommended to me as a man 
 with a tender heart! A man who would never, 
 never, never — (She becomes dramatic) 
 
 Smith. (Dipping pen in ink) I'll pension one 
 horse one month. If he isn't dead then, give him 
 gas. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (As Smith writes check) Oh, 
 I'm sure you'll keep right on pensioning him. 
 (Flatteringly) Big men, like you, always do. 
 
 Smith. (Rips check from book) Who recom- 
 mended me to you? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Smiling) A friend. 
 
 Smith. (Rising) Yours or mine? (Shoving 
 check at her) There you are — one month, including 
 Saturday afternoons and Sundays. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. On behalf of a poor old horse, 
 I thank you. (She bows deeply) 
 
 Smith. (He tosses check book into drawer of 
 desk and hastens r. d. to open it) Don't mention 
 it ! I'm going to South America to-morrow and I'm 
 busier than a man paying double alimony. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Following him, preter.ding to 
 be worried over the fact) I hope I haven't inter- 
 rupted you. 
 
 Smith. (Politely) Not at all! (Opens door 
 and steps aside) Good day ! 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Smiling as she exits) Au re- 
 voir ! 
 
 Smith. Good-bye. (Exit Mrs. Lee-Hugh r. 
 D. As Smith closes door behind Mrs. Lee-Hugh, 
 re-enter Flossie rear door, carrying manuscript) 
 Now, what's the matter? 
 
lo WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Flossie. (Rather brazenly) Does this mean 
 North Dakota or South Dakota? 
 
 Smith. North, of course! Did you ever hear of 
 a Bismark, South Dakota? It says Bismark, doesn't 
 it? 
 
 Flossie. (Impudently) Yes, but how do I know 
 where Bismark is? Fm not a human geography. 
 
 Smith. (Sternly, hut not rudely) Give me that. 
 (Holds out hand for manuscript and Flossie gives 
 it to him. He takes twenty-dollar hank-note from 
 his zvallet and shoves it at Flossie) Here's two 
 weeks' notice. Put on your hat and coat and take 
 the first elevator going down. (She doesn't take the 
 bank-note) 
 
 Flossie. (Surprised and feigning innocence) 
 What have I done? 
 
 Smith. Nothing! That's why Fm discharging 
 you. You've done nothing the last two weeks but 
 kill time and sass back. And here Fm up to my 
 ears in work ! and you stand there sassing back be- 
 cause Bismark's in North Dakota. (Thrusting 
 hank-note into her hand) Now take this and go. 
 
 Flossie. (With an impudent little smile) All 
 right. T should fume and get fussy — wrinkles. 
 {Goes leisurely toward r. d. Smith seises tele- 
 phone) 
 
 Smith. (In 'phone) Typewriter Exchange! 
 Hurry! (Enter Eddie r. d. , card in hand. Flossh-: 
 at R. D.. grins at Smith's hack, then exits. Eddii: 
 crosses hriskly to Smith and holds card in front of 
 him so that he can read it, Smith's hands being oc- 
 cupied holding 'phone. Smith glances at card, then 
 sternly) What does she look like? 
 
 Eddie. (Confidentially. He zvants to warn 
 Smith against seeing her) Just between you and 
 me, Mr. Smith, she looks like a high-priced sten- 
 ographer. 
 
 Smith. Good! Send her in I Quick! (Bangs 
 telephone doivn on desk) 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. ii 
 
 Eddie. (Completely surprised) But you said 
 yesterday 
 
 Smith. Never mind yesterday — this is to-day! 
 
 Eddie. (Meekly) Yes, sir. (Goes briskly to r. 
 D.. and exits. As Eddie crosses to r. d., the tele- 
 phone rings. Smith seises it) 
 
 Smith. (In telephone) Hello — Yes, but I don't 
 want it now. I've got one coming. You people are 
 too slow for New York — move to Baltimore. (Jams 
 receiver in hook and as he replaces 'phone on desk, 
 re-enter Flossie r. d. She has her hat in her hand) 
 
 Flossie. (Just inside r. d., and somewhat 
 meekly) Mr. Smith. 
 
 Smith. (Without looking at her, seating him- 
 self) Yes. 
 
 Flossie. (Strictly business — not with feeling or 
 sincerity) H I apologize, will you take me back? 
 
 Smith. (Firmly, but not rudely) No. Once I 
 discharge a person, she's discharged. I never take 
 her back. 
 
 Flossie. But 
 
 Smith. (Finally) No! 
 
 Flossie. (Savagely) Then don't ! I didn't want 
 to work for you anyway. There's nothing in this 
 ofifice but business. 
 
 (She slaps on her hat and jabs hat- pin into it. As 
 she pins on her hat, Eddie opens door r. d. and 
 steps aside. Enter Jennie Brown, r. d., Eddie 
 exiting and closing door quietly. Jennie is an 
 attractive girl of 22, intelligent, refined, unas- 
 suming and democratic. She wears a pretty, 
 street suit made of good material. It is very 
 becoming to her and is in good taste. Her 
 general appearance gives the impression that 
 she is a girl with lots of common sense, gentle 
 disposition, strength of character and although 
 raised in the midst of luxury, yet she possesses 
 a natural resourcefulness and a charm that will 
 
12 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 enable her to meet any emergency and over- 
 come every obstacle. Her chief characteristics 
 are: a good sense of humor, tact, gentleness, 
 simplicity, sympathy and capability. As Jennie 
 enters, Flossie "' takes her in " zmth a side 
 glance and exits r. d., snappishly.) 
 
 Smith. (Rising and very politely, though 
 rapidly, to Jennie) How-do-you-do? What can T 
 do for you? Are you a — (Pauses. He is afraid to 
 say " stenographer " because he isn't at all sure she 
 looks like a stenographer. Slight pause during 
 which Smith looks at her admiringly) 
 
 Jennie. (Pleasantly. She is standing at r. d.) 
 A what? (A door slams violently immediately off 
 rear. Jennie, somezvhat startled, glances at rear 
 door) 
 
 Smith. (Reassuringly) Don't be alarmed. (As 
 she glances at him) That's only my stenographer — ■ 
 leavino^. (Indicating, chair r. of desk) Be seated. 
 
 Jennie. Thank you. (As she starts tozvard 
 chair, Smith glances at watch. Jennie sees him 
 and stops. Then pleasantly and tactfully) Am I 
 interferino^ with 
 
 Smith. (Interrupting. Polite, but rapid) Not 
 at all! Not at all! Sit down! (As Jennie sits at 
 R. of desk, Smith sits in pivot chair. As he sits) 
 Er — (Not quite certain zvhat she is — meaning to 
 draw her out) Er — what can I do for you — city 
 property or a farm? 
 
 Jennie. Neither. (Smith looks at her curi^ 
 ously. He doesn't know zvhether she is a steno- 
 grapher out of a job or some kind of agent) I want 
 to ask you to please make at least one little poor 
 boy happy. 
 
 Smith. (Impatiently, but trying to be polite) I 
 just got through making a horse happy, and besides, 
 I'm entirely too busy to monkey with kids. 
 
 Jennie. (Kindly, yet somewhat drolly) I'm not 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 13 
 
 asking you to monkey with kids, Mr. Smith. We 
 do that at the Settlement House. {Offers the card 
 or credential she shozvs zvhen she collects money) 
 
 Smith. (Apologetic — just glances at card) T 
 beg your pardon.' {Opens desk drawer, grabs check 
 hook, slams drawer shut, slaps check book on desk, 
 jerks it open and seizes pen. Then, glancing im- 
 patiently at Jennie ivho has been watching him 
 closely) How much? 
 
 Jennie. {Deliberately and pleasantly) If you 
 can spare it conveniently, enough to keep one little 
 boy in the country all summer. 
 
 Smith. {Suspiciously) Two dollars a day? 
 
 Jennie. In the country — not at the St Regis. 
 (Smiling) That would keep four little boys. 
 
 Smith. (Writing check) How long is summer? 
 
 Jennie. Fifty dollars. 
 
 Smith. Thanks! (Writing check rapidly) Your 
 name, please? 
 
 Jennie. The Sunshine Settlement House. 
 
 Smith. {Meriting rapidly) Sunshine Settlement 
 House, Fifty dollars. (Jennie watches him curi- 
 ously and sympathetically. She is interested in him 
 because of his extreme nervousness and hurry-hurry 
 habit. The check ivritten. Smith blots it quickly 
 and vigorously, then rips it out of book and offers 
 it to her) There you are ! One boy — one summer! 
 
 Jennie. {Pleasantly as she accepts check) You 
 were a boy yourself once, weren't you? 
 
 Smith. (Rapidly and impatiently ^ut not rudely) 
 Don't mention it. (Grabs telephone. Then, in tele- 
 phone ) Flello ! Give me the Typewriter Exchange. 
 Quick ! 
 
 Jennie. (Politely and as if sympathidng with 
 liim in his predicament) Pardon me, but do you 
 need a stenographer? 
 
 Smith. {Emphatically) Need one? There isn't 
 anything in the world I'd rather have right now 
 than a real good — {In telephone) Hello! Type- 
 
H WHAT^S WRONG. 
 
 writer Exchange? Call a taxi and send the fastest 
 stenographer you've got to George H. Smith right 
 away — (Surprised and exasperated) To-morrow? 
 I'll be half way to South America to-morrow — 
 {Angrily) Say what kind of an institution is this? 
 I want one nozir. G'bye. (Jams receiver on hook 
 savagely ) 
 
 Jennie. (Kindly. She has been watching him 
 calmly but interestedly during the above) Perhaps 
 I can help you. 
 
 Saiith. (Emphatically, implying that no settle- 
 ment worker can help him) I need a stenographer f 
 
 Jennie. (Simply) I believe you — that is why 
 I volunteered my services. 
 
 Smith. {Dumbfounded) Are you a — — 
 
 Jennie. Not a professional, but 
 
 Smith. (Interrupting and anxiously) Can you 
 take dictation? 
 
 Jennie. Yes — when it is given. 
 
 Smith. (Quickly) Fast? 
 
 Jennie. If you give it fast. (Smith, tickled to 
 death, springs to his feet, grabs a handful of blank 
 writing paper and slaps it down on desk in front of 
 [ennie. Then grabs pen and shoves it at her) 
 
 Smith. (Eagerly and pen in hand) Take this 
 letter. Quick ! 
 
 Jennie. (Calmly and drolly) My gloves are on. 
 
 Smith. (Politely, but trying to " speed " her up) 
 Take them off! (As Jennie begins to unbutton 
 right glove) Let me help you. (Drops pen on desk 
 and, in order to save time, grabs her left hand, and' 
 in his characteristic, hurry-up zvay, unbuttons the 
 glove and tries to pull it off. His haste makes him 
 awkward. When this scene is at its height — ) 
 
 Jennie. (He is hurting her somezvhat) Oh! 
 (The 'phone rings but Smith keeps on pulling 
 glove) Oh! (It rings again. Smith glances at it 
 but does not lessen business zvith glove) 
 
 Smith. (To telephone) Busy! (Smith jerks 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 15 
 
 off the glove, the 'phone rings again. Smith tosses 
 glove on desk and sehes 'phone) Hello! — I did but 
 J don't now. I've got one! {Replacing 'phone 
 ^ngorously on desk) 
 
 Jennie. (Mothering hand) Do you remove 
 Mrs. Smith's gloves very often? 
 
 Smith. There isn't any 
 
 Jennie. Too busy? 
 
 (Smith gives her a, quick, sharp glance. The 
 twinkle in her eyes changes to sober serious- 
 ness. Smith seizes the pen and thrusts it at 
 Jennie.) 
 
 Smith. Here I 
 
 Jennie. I'm sorry, but you took off the wrong 
 glove. (Smith, amazed at his stupidity, gazes at 
 her blankly) I write with my right. {Takes the 
 pen deliberately from his hand, lays it carefully on 
 the desk, then begins to remove the right glove. 
 Smith glances impatiently at the glove he removed, 
 then seizes the speaking tube and pushes button) 
 
 Smith. (In the tube) Fetch me a coco-cola. 
 (Glances at Jennie, who is removing right glove) 
 And hurry ! (Drops tube and goes around l. end of 
 desk to help Jennie remove glove. At the word 
 "hurry," Jennie glances at him, sideways. She 
 wonders if he is a chronic hurry-up man) 
 
 Jennie. (Curiously, but looking at glove, as 
 Smith comes toward her) Are you always this 
 busy ? 
 
 SivrrTH. No, sometimes I'm busier. (Referring 
 to glove which he wants to help her remove) Allow 
 me. 
 
 Jennie. (Still busy zvith glove) Thank you. 
 Init — (She glances at him. He sees the handle of 
 her hat-pins, one on each side of the hat, and reaches 
 for them. His arms, as he reaches for the hat-pins, 
 look as if they zvere going to embraee Jennie. 
 She starts to rise) 
 
i6 WHAT'S WRONG, 
 
 Smith. Sit still. I'm not going to hurt you. 
 {He plucks hat- pins quickly and simultaneously 
 from hat) 
 
 Jennie. As I said, J am not a professional steno- 
 grapher. 
 
 Smith. {Removing her hat) I don't care what 
 you are so long as you do the work. {Plucks right 
 glove — nozv removed — out of Jennie's hand, picks 
 up left glove from desk and thus ladened — her hat 
 in one hand and her gloves and hat- pins in other 
 hand — begins to dictate rapidly) F. H. Henderson, 
 Winnipeg, Canada. (Jennie picks up pen, hut he- 
 fore she can write, Smith interrupts her) Wait a 
 minute. {Clutches her hat under his left arm) 
 
 Jennie. {Anxious over hat — rising) Mr. 
 Smith ! 
 
 Smith. {Blankly) What's the matter? 
 
 Jennie. My hat! 
 
 Smith. ' {Apologetic as Jennie takes hat from 
 under his arm) I beg your pardon. Is it hurt? 
 
 Jennie. {Examining hat) Not fatally, but 
 
 ( Smith grahs the document from r. coat pocket 
 and shoves it at her.) 
 
 Smith. Copy this — it's more important. {Takes 
 her hat and she takes the document. Smith dashes 
 to clothes cabinet,. ]\L^m'E. watching him. When he 
 stops at cabinet) 
 
 Jennie. {Politely) Where shall I copy it ? 
 
 Smith. {Somewhat ungratiously at he hangs her 
 hat next to his own) On the typewriter. (Jennie 
 glances around to locate the typewriter) 
 
 Jennie. Have you one? 
 
 Smith. {Pointing glove-filled hand at rear door) 
 There ! In there ! 
 
 Jennie. Thank you. {She starts toward rear 
 door and Smith hangs the gloves on clothes hooks — ■ 
 each glove on a hook. Then he glances at Jennie, 
 ivho is now at rear door) 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 17 
 
 Smith. Hurry ! (Jennie, startled, jumps. 
 Then she glances at him) Hurry ! 
 
 Jennie. (Politely) Yes, sir. Shall I open the 
 door or jump through it? (Telephone rings) 
 Smith dashes down to desk and seises telephone. 
 Exit Jennie rear door. She watches Smith curi- 
 ously jmtil she closes door) 
 
 Smith. (In 'pRone) Plaza 8763? (Disgusted) 
 No ! No, Perry ! Don't come over ! No ! ! (As he 
 replaces ' pJione ,on desk, enter Eddie r. d., carrying 
 a glass of coco-cola. As Eddie crosses to him:) 
 If Perry Dodge comes to the office, don't let him 
 in. Understand? 
 
 Eddie. (As Smith grabs glass of coco-cola) 
 Yes, sir. (Starts towards r. d. Smith drinks the 
 coco-cola quickly. Re-enter Jennie r. d.. carrying 
 the document) 
 
 Jennie. (Politely, as she enters) Pardon me, 
 Mr. Smith, but — (Eddie, about to e.vit r. d., stops 
 iiud stares at her in amazement) 
 
 Smith. (Impatiently) Now what's the matter? 
 {Puts coco-cola glass on desk, starts towards Jen- 
 nie, sees Eddie staring at her and, emphatically, to 
 Eddie:) Busy! (Eddie jumps and exits quickly) 
 
 Jennie. (Politely, she is now near Smith) 
 Does this mean Bismark, North Dakota? 
 
 Smith. Of course! 
 
 Jennie. (Politely and trying to smile) It says 
 simply Dakota. 
 
 Smith. (Impatient) Did you ever hear of 
 Bismark, South Dakota? 
 
 Jennie. Not frequently, but 
 
 Smith. It is the capital of North Dakota! 
 
 Jennie. The map shows also a Bismark, South 
 Dakota. 
 
 Smith. Fetch me the map. 
 
 Jennie. Don't you believe me? 
 
 Smith. (Emphatically) Fetch me that map I 
 
t8 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Jennie. {Surprised and shocked) Mr. 
 Smith ! 
 
 Smith. {Angrily) Did you hear what I said? 
 
 Jennie. (Self-possessed) Yes, sir, but 
 
 Smith. Then mind! (Jennie looks at him de- 
 liberately and thoughtfully) Hurry! (Slight 
 pause during ivhich they look at each other, Smith 
 scowling impatiently, Jennie contemplatively ca^m 
 Then : ) 
 
 Jennie. (Calmly and somewhat slowly but 
 finally) I haven't worked for you very long, Mr. 
 Smith, but I think I have worked long enough. 
 
 Smith. (Quickly) What do you mean? 
 
 Jennie. I mean that I am through. 
 
 Smith. What! 
 
 Jennie. {Calm but emphatic) I am through. 
 
 Smith. You haven't begun yet. (Jennie lays 
 MSS. on the desk) 
 
 Jennie. Nevertheless I am through. T don't 
 propose to help a man who insults me. 
 
 Smith. {Impatiently insistent) I didn't insult 
 you. 
 
 Jennie. You doubted my veracity. Please get 
 me my hat. 
 
 Smith. I simply said, " Fetch the map! " 
 
 Jennie. (Indicating clothes cabinet) My hat 
 and gloves, please. 
 
 Smith. (Pepperishly angry, exasperated) All 
 right ! Go ! Go ! Quit ! I haven't time to put the 
 soft-pedal on everything I say. {He hastens up to 
 clothes cabinet and gets her hat and gloves. Jen Nil*: 
 watches him. As he comes briskly down towards 
 desk, carrying her hat and gloves) Remember, I 
 am a busy man. 
 
 Jennie. (As she accepts gloves and hat) 
 Gentlemen are never too busy to be polite. 
 
 Smith. (Brusquely and finally) T beg your 
 l)ardon, but business is business. 
 
 Jennie. {Cahnly, after Smith has gone angrily 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 19 
 
 to desk) Not with you, Mr. Smith. {Puts on hat) 
 Smith. {Glancing at her quickly; he is puzded 
 and surprised) What? 
 
 Jennie. {Shoving hat-pins in hat) With you, 
 husiness is a mania. No wonder your stenographer 
 left. She should have. They all should. I don't 
 blame her for slamming the door. Good-day. 
 
 {Exit R. D.. Smith staring at her. He starts to- 
 wards R. D., as if to call her back, halts, 
 hastens back to desk, seizes speaking tube with 
 one hand and presses call-button on desk 
 7'igorously with thumb of other hand.) 
 
 Smith. {Sharply, in speaking tube) Miss — 
 {Can't recall her name) The new stenographer! 
 Send her back! Right away! {Drops speaking 
 tube and hastens up to left window and opens it. 
 Re-enter Jennie. She is putting on gloves. Stands 
 near door) 
 
 Smith. {Politely as he goes rapidly towards 
 desk) That was Bismark, North Dakota. {Picks 
 up the manuscript and hastens to her) 
 
 Jennie. Thank you, but I am no longer inter- 
 ested in the whereabouts of Bismark. {She turns 
 to leave) 
 
 Smith. {Kindly) Wait a minute. (Jennie 
 pauses and glances at him) I didn't mean to hurt 
 your feelings. {He offers her the manuscript, but 
 she doesn't take it) 
 
 Jennie. {Busy with gloves) Maybe not. But 
 when a person volunteers to help another person, 
 it does hurt to be called a — {Glances at him) Sup- 
 pose / had an office and you offered to help me, 
 how would you like to have me call you a liar? 
 
 Smith. I didn't call you a 
 
 Jennie. Practically — you implied it. 
 
 Smith. I know — I do speak hastily sometimes; 
 but I don't mean anything by it. 
 
20 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Jennie. Just the same it hurts — especially when 
 you're telling the truth — and are not accustomed 
 to — {Wiping her eyes) to that kind of treatment. 
 
 Smith. I am sorry — and I apologize. 
 
 Jennie. You should. 
 
 Smith. The land described is in North Dakota. 
 {He offers the manuscript to Jennie) Please! 
 
 Jennie. {Paying no attention to MSS.) I'm not 
 over-sensitive, Mr. Smith, but I don't like to be 
 wounded. 
 
 Smith. {Reassuringly sympathetic) Why, I 
 wouldn't wound you intentionally for anything in 
 the world. Miss — why, there isn't one girl in a 
 thousand who'd come into a business man's office 
 soliciting funds for the poor and then volunteer to 
 step into the breach and be his stenographer. That's 
 the kind of a girl men admire. You aren't going 
 to leave me, are you? {Pause, then offers MSS. 
 again) Please. If you stay I'll double your wages. 
 
 Jennie. I'm not working for wages. 
 
 Smith. What are you working for? 
 
 Jennie. To help you. {Takes MSS.) 
 
 Smith. I'm awfully sorry I hurt your feelings. 
 {Raises hands to remove her hat but she hands him 
 the MSS.) 
 
 Jennie. {Trying to smile) I'll take it off this 
 time. I'm just a trifle superstitious. 
 
 Smith. {Quickly and somewhat emphatically, 
 MSS. in hand) So am I. {Loudly) Eddie! 
 {Starts tozvards desk, frozvning as if cursing him- 
 self. Jennie watches him, puzzled, anxious. En- 
 ter Eddie) 
 
 Eddie. {Entering) Yes, sir. 
 
 Smith. Run over to Fleishman's and get a box 
 of flowers for — for the young lady. 
 
 Eddie. Yes, sir. (Jennie goes towards rear 
 door) 
 
 Smith. Hurry! (Eddh-: dashes off r. d. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 21 
 
 Politely) Miss — {Pauses beeause he can't remem- 
 ber her name. Jennie stops. Re-enter Eddie) 
 
 Eddie. What kind of flowers? 
 
 Smith. All kinds ! And make it speedy ! {Exit 
 Eddie quickly. Smith hastens to desk) 
 
 Jennie. Thank you for- the flowers, Mr. Smith. 
 
 Smith. Don't thank me I Don't! We haven't 
 time for that ! 
 
 Tennie. (Politely) I beg your pardon. 
 
 Smith. That's all right ! (Tozvard r. d.) Eddie ! 
 Eddie ! (Then to Jennie, who is nozv at rear door) 
 What play do you want to see to-night? {Re-enter 
 Iu^die) 
 
 Eddie. Yes, sir. 
 
 Smith. Stay in the ofhce till I tell you to go. 
 
 Eddie. Yes, sir. {Exit) 
 
 Smith. [To Jennie as Eddii<: exits) 1>11 me — - 
 what play to-night? 
 
 Jennie. None. 
 
 Smitei. To-morrow night? 
 
 Jennie. (Smiling) 1 shall be busy telling a 
 room full of ambitious little foreigners about the 
 Father of their country — George Washington. 
 
 Smith. Next night, then? {Picks up speaking- 
 lube and presses button) 
 
 Jennie. {Going tozvards him) Don't get thea- 
 tre tickets, Mr. Smith. Please don't. 
 
 Smith. All right, then, I'll get you some more 
 flowers. 
 
 Jennie. {Modestly yielding) If you zvill, 
 ])lease send them over to the Settlement House. 
 My poor children like flowers almost as much as 
 tkicy dislike soap. 
 
 Smith. {In speaking-tube, and in great haste) 
 Rush over to Fleishman's and tell him to send all his 
 flowers out to the Sunlight Settlement House. 
 
 Jennie. {Dumbfounded and in remonstrance) 
 Not all of them ! 
 
 Smith, {fn speaking-tube) Wait a minute! 
 
22 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Jen NIK. A few of each kind will be plenty. 
 
 Smith. {In tube) Eddie! {Pushes button 
 I'igorously) Plenty of each kind will be plent^^ 
 And hurry I {He drops the tube. To Jennie) 
 And if you happen to change your mind and do 
 want to go to a play to-night, Eddie will lake you. 
 Sorry / haven't time to. 
 
 Jennie. {Smiling, eyes him. He is too lusv to 
 think that she might not care to go with him) 
 Thank you. Eddie looks like a very nice little boy, 
 but I — I am quite sure that I won't change my 
 mind — {Exit rear door. Smith zvatches her ad- 
 miringly until she closes door, then jerks out zvatch 
 and frowns at it) 
 
 Smith. {Disgusted with himself) Fourteen 
 minutes all shot to thunder! {Thrusts ivatch back 
 into pocket, hastens to pivot chair, sits, grabs a docu- 
 ment and begins to read it frantically. Pause, dur- 
 ing iih.ch clicking of typewriter is heard off rear and 
 the tinkling of the bell on the machine. Smith 
 listens to the rapid clicking, satisfied) Ah 1 Quick 
 worker 1 
 
 {Reads hurriedly whistling. Enter Perry Dodge r. 
 D. Perry is a man of Smith's age and height, 
 but much stouter and healthier. He has broad 
 shoulders, a nice, comfortable, prosperous- 
 looking stomach and is zvelTfed and happy. 
 Democratic in dress and unassuming in manner. 
 He imprcses one as being a very successful, 
 generous, sensible, optimistic, clean-minded, 
 hame-loving, country-raised, business man — of 
 simple tastes — a self-made man zvho has his 
 business so completely under his control that he 
 has plenty of time for everything he zvants to 
 do. JVears a business suit of good material and 
 well-made, but modest in color and pattern, 
 and a Fedora hat. His chief characteristics 
 arc an optimistic smile, a big nature, and genu- 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 23 
 
 me frankness. As he enters, he closes door 
 quietly; goes to desk, sits R. of it, watches 
 Smith who is unazvare of his presence, then 
 slips his hat over the manuscript which Smith 
 is reading. Smith starts, as if seeing things, 
 then looks up.) 
 
 Perry. Hel-lo, George! 
 
 Smith. (Angrily) I told you to stay away 
 from here, Perry! 
 
 Perry. (Good-naturedly) Do you think I would 
 stay away from a life-long friend simply because 
 he told me to? 
 
 Smith. (Hotly) I meant it! 
 
 (Perry smiles broadly, then begins to tap desk 
 slowly with forefinger.) 
 
 Perry. George, Majorie and I want you to come 
 out to our place to-day for dinner. 
 
 Smith. (Trying to reason zvith him) If I 
 ha\en't time to eat here, how in thunder can I go 
 way out to your place to eat? (Turns impatiently 
 to desk) 
 
 !M:rrn-. What's your hurry, (iecjrge? 
 
 Saijth. I've got to hurry ! 
 
 Perry. (Genially) In the long run, I accomplish 
 just as much as you do, but I work deliberately. 
 And look at me! (Pats stomach proudly) 
 
 Smith. You were built that way. 
 
 Perry. (Smiling) No, I wasn't. The day you 
 and I cast our first presidential vote back home, we 
 tipped the scales at identically the same mark, and 
 \ou were just as big around the waist as I was. 
 Since then — {Glancing proudly at his own stomach) 
 Well, look at my equator — and then at yours. 
 George, there isn't a happier man in this whole 
 broad country than 1 am. And why? I repeat 
 my (|uestion--Why ? 
 
24 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Smith. {Inipatienly and somewhat impetuously^ 
 as he glances nervously at zvatch) Why? I'll bite. 
 Why? 
 
 Perry. Simply because I don't try to do three 
 men's work, three times too fast. 
 
 Smith. ( Rapidly and with concealed irony^ 
 You don't have to ! You're selling hulled corn — 
 something to eat. I have to appeal to a man's in- 
 tellect. 
 
 Perry. {Good-naturedly and buoyantly) George, 
 you need a little vacation and 
 
 Smith. {Impatiently) But I tell you I can't 
 
 go. 
 
 Perry. {Good-naturedly) Yes, you can. We 
 are going to take a train at the Grand Central ; and 
 my hired man is going to meet us at the depot with 
 the family carriage — just like the old folks used 
 to do back home when company was coming. And 
 Marjorie is going to meet you at the front gate 
 and take you into the house and set you down to 
 the finest meal you've had since you left the dear 
 old home state. Yes, sir-ree ! 
 
 Smith. {Shaking his head) Yes, but 
 
 Perry. After dinner, you are going to spend 
 the night with us. I will wager that it has been 
 weeks and weeks since you've had one good big 
 snore. 
 
 Smith. I'm too busy to snore! 
 
 Perry. In the morning, you are going to have 
 some berries fresh from our garden. 
 
 Smith. {Rises. Coaxingly, as he goes around 
 up-side of desk to him) Now look here, Perry — 
 (Perry rises and places hand on Smith's shoulder) 
 
 Perry. {Pleasantly and deliberately) George, 
 five years ago to-night Marjorie and I were married. 
 Remember ? 
 
 Smith. I ought to — I was your best man. 
 
 Perry. Now, we want you to help us celebrate. 
 (He forces Smith gently back into his chair) 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 25 
 
 Smith. (Picks up Perry's hat and hands it to 
 him) Here's your hat. I don't want to hurry 
 you off, but — (Perry accepts hat and Smith takes 
 hold of his arm to escort him to door. But Perry 
 does not moz'e) 
 
 Perry. {Smiling hut serious) You probably 
 don't reaUze it, George, but in spite of the fact that 
 you and I grew up together in the same httle town 
 and went to school together in the same little red 
 school house, you haven't been out to see us for al- 
 most a year. And here we live only fifty-nine min- 
 ules from the Grand Central Station! (Lays hat 
 on desk) 
 
 Smith. {Sincerely, having glanced at his zvatch) 
 I know it, Perry, and Pm ashamed of myself, but 
 fifty-nine minutes is an hour. 
 
 Perry. What are you trying to do, anyway, 
 (leorge — make a million dollars a minute? 
 
 Smith. No, but if a man's going to make good, 
 lie's got to be on the job all the time. 
 
 Perry. You aren't on the job all the time, old 
 man. The job is on you ! 
 
 Smith. Now look here 
 
 Perry. Pm doing a big business myself, George, 
 'jlie demiand for Dodge's hulled corn as a breakfast 
 cereal is becoming enormous, and I am supplying 
 the demand. But I haven't become a slave to my 
 business. (Smith takes Perry's hat from the desk 
 and offers it to him^ but Perry ignores it) When 
 1 am not selling hulled-corn my mind is not on 
 hulled-corn but on my home — and I still have plenty 
 of time for my friends. (Smith puts hat on 
 Perry's head, but Perry pays no attention to it; 
 simply smiles) 
 
 Smith. (Impatiently, but not angrily, yet 
 emphatically, pointing to map on left wall) See that 
 map ? 
 
 Perry. What about it? 
 
26 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 (Smith crosses quickly to the map.) 
 
 Smith. {Indicating zvith index finger on map as 
 he talks) I'm pushing timber land in Canada: 
 wheat land in North Dakota ; fruit land in Colorado ; 
 ranch land in Texas ; cotton fields in Carolina ; 
 tobacco, sugar, coffee, rice, rubber, indigo planta- 
 tions in Mexico, Central and South America! (He 
 suddenly remembers something important) Oh, 
 great Scott! (Seizes telephone. In telephone 
 hotly) Haven't you got Plaza 8763 yet? — Plaza 
 8-7-6-3!! And hurry! (To Perry) A friend 
 of mine's going to be married this afternoon. 
 Asked me to be one of his ushers. 
 
 Perry. You are going to, aren't you? 
 
 Smith. No! I couldn't spare time to usher if 
 it was my own wedding. (Angrily, in 'phone) 
 All right! (To Perry, as he jams receiver in 
 hook) Every time I try to get that confounded 
 bridegroom, he's busy! (In telephone) Central! 
 Send me a messenger boy right away. (As he 
 hangs 'phone on desk, enter Jennie rear door, 
 carrying open MSS.) 
 
 Jennie. (Politely as she enters) Excuse me for 
 interrupting "you, Mr. Smith, but 
 
 Smith. (Politely, but rapidly) Certainly, cer- 
 tainly! (Going tozvard her) Some mistake? 
 
 Perry. (Delightfidly surprised, to Jennie, as she 
 goes towards Smith) Why, hello, Jennie! 
 
 (Jennie, surprised, stops and looks at Perry. 
 Smith, also surprised, stops and looks at him 
 too.) 
 
 Jennie. [Recognizing Perry — pleased) Hello. 
 Perry. (Curious) Since when did you become 
 a stenographer? 
 
 Jennie. To-day. {Starts towards Smith) 
 Smith. (Raising his hand to stop her) Wait a 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. . 27 
 
 minute. (Jennie stops) You said you zvere a 
 stenographer. 
 
 [knnie. {Drolly serious) I am — but I wasn't a 
 real one until I began to work for you. 
 
 Smith. What? 
 
 Jennie. I could take dictation and typewrite, 
 but a stenographer isn't really a stenographer until 
 she works for a business man. (Tactfully, as she 
 goes to him) Now here is what I wanted to ask 
 you about. (Placing her finger on page of MSS. 
 She is now beside Smith and holds MSS. so he 
 can read zvhat she indicated zvith finger) It says: 
 " The party of the second part assigns all rights, 
 etc., etc." (Glancing at Smith) Shouldn't it be: 
 " The party of the first part? " 
 
 (Smith, much interested, takes the MSS., turns to 
 the preceding page, reads the last few lines 
 thereon quickly, but car ef idly, then:) 
 
 Smith. Of course it should! (Please, as he 
 hands her the MSS.) I'm mighty glad you called 
 my attention to that. That pleases me. It shows 
 you're looking out for my interests. Just change 
 it. will you. 
 
 Jennie. Certainly. 
 
 Smith. Thanks. 
 
 Jennie. Welcome. [To Perry) How is Mrs. 
 Dodge ? 
 
 Perry. Nicely, thank you. (Puzzled) But 
 what I can't understand is why you are working 
 in this office. 
 
 (Smith, who has just glanced at his watch, mis- 
 interprets Perry's remark as an insinuation 
 against him.) 
 
 Smith. (Indignantly) Why shouldn't she work 
 in this office? 
 
28 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Jennie. {Surprised and somezvhat anxiously^ to 
 Perry) He's a gentleman, isn't he? 
 
 Perry. Of course ! Of course he is ! But 1 
 thought you were doing settlement work. 
 
 Smith. {Annoyed at Perry's stupidity) She is! 
 
 Jennie. That is why I came here. 
 
 (Perry looks at Smith as if trying to figure out 
 what's wrong with him.) 
 
 Perry. {As if deeply interested, to Jennie. As 
 he speaks. Smith shoves hat into his hand, but 
 Perry ignores it) Just what kind of settlement 
 work are you doing? 
 
 Jennie. Helping poor little boys. 
 
 Perry. {Significantly, hut d roily) You certainly 
 have come to the right place. {Faces Smith and 
 smiling patronizingly at him, takes the hat) 
 
 Jennie. {Realizing the way Perry has interpreted 
 her answer) Oh, I didn't mean it that way! I 
 came here to solicit money for- 
 
 Smith. Don't pay any attention to him. 
 
 Jennie. {To Smith) Yes but you will explain 
 how I^ 
 
 Smith. Pm too busy to explain anything — and 
 so are you. 
 
 Jennie. But 
 
 Smith. {Politely, indicating rear door) \{ you 
 please. 
 
 Jennie. {Apologetic) I beg your pardon. 
 {Starts towards rear door) 
 
 Smith. {Politely, accompanying Jier) That's all 
 right ! That's all right ! No ofifence ! I simply 
 want to get that thing copied as soon as possible. 
 You understand? 
 
 Jennie. That is why I apologized. 
 
 Smith. Never mind apologizing. It's his fault, 
 not yours. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 29 
 
 Jennie. (Nozv at rear door) Thank you. 
 
 Smith. Welcome. (Exit Jennie rear door. 
 Smith closes the door for her, then, to Perry, 
 pointing at r. d.) Do you see that door? 
 
 Perry. {After glancing at r. d.) Nice door, isn't 
 it? {Lays hat on desk again) 
 
 Smith. Now, look here. Perry! 
 
 Perry. T didn't know you knew her. {Indicat- 
 ing rear door) 
 
 Smith. I don't ! 
 
 Perry. Do you mean to say that you don't know 
 your own stenographer? 
 
 Smith. She sent it in on a card, but Pve lost 
 tlie card. {Hunting about desk for card) Who is 
 she? 
 
 PFRR^■. {Significantly, as if speaking of a cele- 
 brated person) Why, that's Jennie Brown! 
 
 Smith. {Glancinq at him blankly. He doesn't 
 kiwiv of Jennie Brown and his expression and 
 I'oice shoiv it) Is it? 
 
 Perry. Yes. You know who she is ! 
 
 Smith. {Reminiscently) Brown — Brown. 
 
 There's something familiar about the name, but — 
 (Abruptly. He wants to saz'c time) Who is she? 
 T haven't time to look her up in " AMio's Who " or 
 Bradstreet's ! 
 
 Perry. {Surprised at his ignorance) Why, she's 
 the daughter of old man Brown ! 
 
 Smith. Call names, Perrv ! For Heaven's sake, 
 call names ! How can I tell one Brown from an- 
 other if you don't name 'em?^ Was her father 
 John Brown or Jay A. Brown or 
 
 Perry. Yes- — Jay A. ! 
 
 Smith. {Surprised) The big real estate man 
 who died a few years ago? 
 
 Pi.rr\'. Yes. He laid out our suburb and lived 
 there quite a while. We were neighbours. That's 
 how T ha])pen to know Jennie. 
 
30 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 (Smith, %vho has been listening intently to Perry, 
 glances at rear door, then:) 
 
 Smith. {Gravely, but determinedly, to Perry) 
 I'm going to keep her for my stenographer if it 
 costs me a hundred dollars a week. 
 
 Perry. {Patting him on shoulder) She's worth 
 it. 
 
 Smith. Well, good-bye, Perry — I 
 
 Perry. (Slowly and trying to smile, but it is a 
 pathetic smile. As he runs his hand slowly along 
 the rim of his hat) Of course there's a little senti- 
 ment about the dinner to-night, George. 
 
 Smith. {Sincerely, though rapidly) I know it, 
 Perry, but Pm absolutely too busy to monkey with 
 sentiment. 
 
 Perry. {Generously) All right, George. Good- 
 bye. {Extends hand and Smith sei::es it) 
 
 Smith. {As he shakes Perry's hand and leads 
 him towards r. d. to save time) Good-bye, Perry, 
 ril see you when I get back from Argentine. 
 
 {Enter Eddie r. d.. carrying a large decorated paste- 
 board box.) 
 
 Eddie. Here are the flowers you sent for, Mr. 
 Smith. 
 
 Smith. Thanks. {As he takes box from 
 Eddie) Tell Miss Brown to come here. {Eddie 
 looks at him stupidly) The new stenographer! 
 Hurry ! 
 
 {Exit Eddie briskly rear door as Smith crosses to 
 desk. Perry remains where he is and zvatches 
 Smith curiously during the following. Enter 
 Jennie rear door. She looks perplexed, as if 
 wondering zvhy Smith has sent for her.) 
 
 Smith. {Very politely — aiid hastening tozvard 
 her ) Plere are vour flowers. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 31 
 
 Jennie. (Modestly as she accepts box) Thank 
 you, Mr. Smith ! You are very generous. 
 
 Smith. Don't mention it! There'll be more 
 next time. (Glances at watch) 
 
 Jennie. (She thinks he 7cants to hurry her up) 
 I'm going. 
 
 Smith. (Apologetic as Jennie crits) That's 
 all right! That's all-right! Just so you get that 
 thing copied as quick as you can. (Exit Jennie 
 rear door. Smith closes door for her, hastens dozvn 
 to desk, then glances at Perry, ivho hasnt taken 
 his eyes off him since Eddie entered with the fiozvers. 
 Perry smiles zvisely at Smith. Smith tries to 
 gaze calmly at Perry. Pause. Finally, zvhen 
 Smith can stand it no longer: Explosively and 
 somezvhat angrily) \\''ell, what're you grinning at? 
 
 Perry. I thought you didn't have time for senti- 
 ment. 
 
 Smith. That wasn't sentiment — it was diplo- 
 macy. I nearly fired her before you came in, and 
 had to do something to square myself. (He makes 
 a zvry face as if in pain) Ouch ! (Grabs jazv zvith 
 hand) 
 
 Perry. (As Smith presses right hand against 
 right cheek) What's the matter? 
 
 Smith. Toothache. Have had it for a month! 
 
 P|':rry. Why don't you get it filled? 
 
 Smith. Takes too long! (Telephone rings. To 
 Pi:rky, hand on cheek) Answer that, will you? 
 (Pi-:rrv lays hat on desk. As Perry is about to 
 pick up 'phone) Hurry! 
 
 ( Perry smiles at him. then picks up 'phone. ) 
 
 Perry. (Calmly, in 'phone) Yes? 
 Smith. (Impatiently) \Vho is it? Tell me. 
 Who is it? 
 
 Perry. Doctor Adams. 
 
 Smith. Let me talk to him. (Forgetting tooth- 
 
32 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 ache, he hastens to Perry who gives him the 
 'phone. In 'phone, rapidly) Hello. This is Smith. 
 Say, Doc, I think I'll have to pass up that appoint- 
 ment altogether. I simply can't get there to-day — • 
 and — {Abruptly) I'll see you later. G'bye. {Jams 
 receiver in hook and puts telephone doicn) 
 
 Perry. Is he a dentist? 
 
 Smith. No — stomach specialist. Haven't been 
 able to sleep lately and thought maybe something 
 might be wrong with my stomach. {Calls) Eddie I 
 
 {Enter Eddie r. d. ) 
 
 Eddie. {Entering) Yes, sir. 
 
 Smith. Fetch me a cup of coffee and a piece o£ 
 apple pie. Hold on a minute — make that a lemon 
 merangue. 
 
 Eddie. Yes, sir. 
 
 {Exit Eddie rapidly.) 
 
 Smith. Eddie!! {KBr>iE re-enters) Fetch both 
 the apple pie and the lemon merangue. I'm starv- 
 
 ing' 
 
 Eddie. Yes, sir. {Hurries off) 
 
 Smith. {To Perry) I haven't had a square 
 meal in a week. 
 
 Perry. {Placing hand on Smith's shoidder) 
 George, what you need is a wife 
 
 Smith. What I need is a Bromo Seltzer. 
 {Places right hand to forehead and goes quickly to 
 other end of desk) 
 
 Perry. You need a wife, like my Marjorie — a 
 nice little woman who knows how to make home the 
 dearest, sweetest, most restful spot in all the world! 
 George; {Laying both hands on Smith's shoidders) 
 why don't you get yourself a wife like Marjorie? 
 ( Slight pause. They are looking steadily into each 
 other's eyes. Taking hold of Perry's wrists gently 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 33 
 
 but firmly. Smith removes the hands from his 
 shoulders and places them emphatically at Perry's 
 sides) 
 
 Smith. (Calmly, but with potential emphasis) 
 Perr}' — Fve told you politely that Pm busy. Pve 
 told you politely that I couldn't go home with you. 
 Now I ask you politely to get the hell out of here! 
 
 Perry. (In a tone of voice bespeaking genuine 
 sincerity) I want to help you, George. 
 
 Smith. (Qiiickh and emphatically) I hire my 
 lielp ! 
 
 Perry. But 
 
 Smith. The elevators in this building go down 
 every minute! (Perry smiles broadly — zvhereupon 
 Smith rushes to door and jerks it open. Enter 
 Jennie rear door, MSS. in hand. To Jennie, some- 
 what brusque) Is it all copied? 
 
 Jennie. (Pleasantly and calmly, as she comes 
 down briskly) Yes, sir. 
 
 Smith. (Grabs handful of MSS. from desk) 
 Here's some more! (Shoves them at her. Jennie 
 gives her MSS. to Smith and accepts Smith's from 
 him. Incisively) Hurry! (Je'N'Nie does not move. 
 Slight pause, then: Very politely) If you please. 
 (Jennie nods slightly and starts up) 
 
 Perry. (To Jennie as she starts towards rear 
 door — confidentially, after glancing at Smith who 
 is busy reading MSS. at lower left) Have you 
 any chloroform? 
 
 Jennie. (Curiously — puzzled) Chloroform? 
 ( Perry nods. — She looks at him quizzically, suspects 
 his meaning, glances at Smith zvho is now thrum- 
 ming desk nervously with fingers, like a pianist play- 
 ing piano. Then, to Perry) Paderewski? 
 
 (Perry nods. Jennie shakes her head — she hasn't 
 any chloroform — Then exits rear r. Perry 
 goes toward Smith.) 
 
34 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Perry. George- 
 Smith. Go. 
 
 Perry. But 
 
 ( Smittt flings MSS. on desk and seizing Perry's 
 hat, hurls it at door.) 
 
 Smith. Get out! 
 
 Perry. {Deeply hurt by Smith's action) I beg 
 your pardon. (He goes slowly tozvards d. r. 
 Smith, hands clenched, and brozvs knit, stares at 
 him. Arrived at d. r., Perry picks up hat, glances 
 at it, then begins to wipe off the dust with his hand- 
 kerchief. When the hat is dusted: Kindly, but not 
 smiling) Our latch string is always out. (Putting 
 on his hat) And Marjorie and I are always in to 
 you, George. (Opens door to go) 
 
 Smith. Wait a minute. (As he goes tozvards 
 Perry, characteristically rapid but deeply apol- 
 ogetic) I didn't mean to make such a damn fool of 
 myself. Really T didn't. But I've got so much to 
 do that — (Extending hand) Vm sorry, Perry. 
 Awfully sorry. 
 
 Perry. (Consolingly, as he shakes Smith's hand) 
 That's all right, George — I understand — I under- 
 stand. 
 
 (Enter Eddie r. d., with a tray containing a mug of 
 coffee, a piece of pie and a lemon merangiie. 
 He leaves door open.) 
 
 Smith. (To Eddie) Put it on the desk. Quick! 
 
 Eddie. (Hurrying awkzvardly toward desk. He 
 is afraid of spilling the coffee) Yes, sir. (As 
 Eddie passes Smith, Smith grabs mug of coffee 
 from tray and gidps down the coffee) 
 
 Smith. (Rapidly to Perry, his mouth full of 
 lemon mcrangue) Good-bye! (As he shoves 
 Perry through the open door) Remember me to 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 35 
 
 Marjorie. Good-bye! {Exit Perry backzvards, 
 SivTiTH shoving him gently zvith hands against his 
 breast. Slamming door shut, Smith hastens to- 
 wards desk, empty eoffee mug in hand. Presses his 
 hand against his forehead) Fetch me a Bromo 
 Seltzer ! 
 
 Eddie. (Accepting mug zvhich Smith shoves at 
 him) Yes, sir. (Starts tozvards door) 
 
 Smith. Make it two! Hurry! 
 
 ( Eddie runs to door and exits. Smith grabs the 
 piece of merangue from tray and begins to eat 
 it rapidly.) 
 
 Eddie. (Re-entering) Excuse me, Mr. Smith, 
 (Hd you send for a messenger boy ? 
 
 Smith. Hours ago! Send him in. (Eddie 
 exits rapidly. Smith bolts another mouthful of 
 merangue— cramming it into his mouth and, sitting, 
 grabs pen and begins to zvrite hurriedly. Enter 
 Messenger Boy, leisurely. Seizing blotter — and 
 zvith mouth filled zvith merangue) ELurry! (As 
 Smith blots note by pounding on blotter, the Boy 
 hastens to him. Rapidly, as he snatches envelope 
 from desk drazver and shoves note into it and sticks 
 flap of envelope zvith a piece of merangue) 467 
 Riverside Drive. Bridegroom! Run! (He gives 
 the boy the envelope and exit Messenger Boy 
 briskly. Glancing at zvatch) Another fourteen 
 minutes all shot to thunder ! (Jamming zvatch into 
 z'cst pocket, he sits dozvn, shoves the tray of food 
 aside, grabs an unread MSS. from pile, jerks it open 
 and begins to read, tracing finger racing across page 
 at terrific rate. The door r. is opened cautiously, as 
 if someone zvas peeking in to make sure that Smith 
 zvas alone. Then it opens zvidely and Marjorie 
 Dodge enters. She is a good-looking, healthy, like- 
 able young zvoman — medium height and quite 
 
36 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 plump. She zvears a street suit zvhich, although 
 made of -good material, is of the 1909 model — 
 pleated skirt quite full at the bottom, and a rather 
 long but plain jacket to match. Her hat is quite 
 country and matches her suit. Her appearance is 
 intended to give the impression that she zvas raised 
 in a small tozvn and although now living in a suburb 
 of Nezv York, still clings to the small tozvn con- 
 servatism as regards clothes. In short, she is some- 
 zvhat rustic, but not to the extent of being ludicrous. 
 In her right hand she carries a large, black, mesh- 
 cloth market-bag zvhich is bulging vuith small paper- 
 covered packages — delicacies — for the anniversary 
 feast. In her left hand, she carries a small leather 
 shopping bag and a rather large, square, box-shaped 
 bundle. The bundle is tied zvith heavy tzvine and 
 has a zvooden carrying handle. Marjorie's chief 
 characteristics arc : zvholesome simplicity, big- 
 hearted hospitableness, a cheery face, and a broad, 
 good-natured smile and a jovial laugh. Upon enter- 
 ing, Marjorie places her mesh-bag on floor and 
 closes door quietly. As Smith tosses document 
 aside and reaches for another, he sees Marjorie. 
 Her hack is to him and she is closing the door. 
 Smith does not recognize her) Never mind the 
 door. What do you want — city farms or property? 
 
 Marjorie. {Turning — good naturedly emphatic) 
 J want you! 
 
 Smith. {Surprised) Why, hello Marjorie! 
 {Rising and shaking her hand) How are you? 
 Glad to see you ! But if you don't wait too long, 
 you can overtake your husband. Perry hasn't been 
 gone more than a minute. {Snatches up market-bag 
 and is about to open door for her) 
 
 Marjorie. I didn't come here to overtake my 
 husband. 
 
 Smith. What did you come for? 
 
 Marjorie. To take you home with me. 
 
 Smith. {Putting dozvn bags) Say, wdiat is this — 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 37 
 
 a conspiracy to keep me from going to South 
 America? (Marjorie laughs heartily. Smith 
 ivatches her a moment. Then, pepperlshly hut try- 
 ing not to he impolite) Pardon my interruption, 
 Marjorie, but 
 
 Marjorte. (Broadly) George, you make me 
 laugh I 
 
 Smith. All right, but please step outside to do 
 it — this is my busy day. (Glances at watch — then 
 at rear door) 
 
 Marjorie. Something told me you'd say " No " 
 to Perry, so I came in to ask you myself. 
 
 Smith. That was sweet of you but 
 
 Marjorie. (Smiling confidantly) I knew you 
 wouldn't have the heart to refuse me. 
 
 Smith. I haven't but I've got to do it just the 
 same. You see — {Jerks out zvatch, looks ^ at it. 
 Then glances anxiously at rear door and picks up 
 Marjorie's hags) 
 
 Marjorie. I see I (Sm ith looks at her curiously 
 and she smiles broadly) Bring her along. 
 
 Smith. Who? 
 
 Marjorie. (Broadly ironical — joshing him) 
 George, you look as innocent as a stuffed rabbit, but 
 you can't fool me. (Chucks him under the chin and 
 giggles) 
 
 Smith. (^Dropping bags) Be rational, Marjorie! 
 You know i haven't time to care for women. 
 
 Marjorie. Busier men than you have been shot 
 by Cupid. And whenever a man looks at his watch 
 the wav you do, there's only one answer — petticoats! 
 
 Smith. I tell you 
 
 Marjorie. Stop your crawfishing ! 
 
 Smith. I'm not crawfishing. I 
 
 Marjorie. You come out to our house this even- 
 ing and bring that young lady with you. (Pats her 
 on back. Then snatches up bags) Come on! 
 
 {Just as Marjorie gets to the door— Jennie enters. 
 
38 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 MSS. in hand — the two Women recognhr 
 each other.) 
 
 Makjorik. {Dumbfounded, but delighted) Why, 
 Jennie Brown! {Drops everything, rushes to her 
 and hugs her) 
 
 Smith. {To himself) Oh, Lord! 
 
 Marjorie. {Enthusiastically to Jennie) Wliat 
 on earth are you doing here? 
 
 Jennie. Helping. 
 
 Smith. But 
 
 Marjorie. li you don't ]'ll think it's because you 
 don't want to come. 
 
 Smith. {Rapid but sincere) Don't be fooHsh, 
 Marjorie. I hke you. I like Perry. I like your 
 little home. I like your food. I like the way you 
 cook it. I like everything. But I simply can't come. 
 {Picking up bags) Now come on, I'll go as far as 
 the elevator with you. {Hastens to door and opens 
 it) 
 
 Marjorie. {Long-faced) Aw, why can't you 
 come out, George? I — T — { Wipes her eyes zvith 
 handkerchief) 
 
 Smith. {Going tozvard her — sympathetically) 
 Don't cry, Marjorie. I don't want to hurt your 
 feelings but 
 
 Marjorie. To-night is our wedding anniversary. 
 
 Smith. 1 know it but you'll have another one 
 next year, and maybe I can get out then. 
 
 Marjorie. \Miy, how perfectly lovely! I've 
 known George ever since — {She sits — to Smith's 
 despair) sit down, Jennie — ever since we were 
 married. Maybe he's told you about me already. 
 I'll bet he has1 
 
 Jennie. Don't bet very much. 
 
 ( Smith glares at them both and looks at his watch.) 
 Marjorie. {Struck by an idea) Say, why don't 
 
M^HAT'S WRONG. 39 
 
 you bring him out to dinner to-night, I'm sure he'd 
 come if you asked him. Ask him — go ahead — ask 
 him. You'll come with her, won't you, George? 
 (Has another idea — looks from George to Jennie) 
 Perhaps you were going to have din — (Pauses in the 
 middle of the zvord — trying to ask the question 
 innocently) Where are you dining to-night, Jennie? 
 
 Jennie. So many unexpected things have hap- 
 ])ened to me since breakfast that I won't be sur- 
 prised if T have dinner in a hospital — or the police 
 station. 
 
 Smith. (Rapidly and strictly business, but polite 
 — approaching Marjorie) Pardon me, Marjorie. 
 I know she's an old friend of the family and all that, 
 but she's my stenographer now and business is busi- 
 ness. (Takes hold of her arm and starts toward 
 R. D. with her. Calls loudly) Eddie! (To 
 Marjorie) It's a case of being downright rude — 
 or missing my boat to-morrow. (Rushes to bundles 
 and begins to pick them up) 
 
 ( Enter Eddie r. d. briskly.) 
 
 Eddie. Yes, sir. 
 
 Smith. {Shoving bundles into his arms) Take 
 tluse to the elevator! Quick! (Exit Eddie r. d.. 
 as Smith hastens to Marjorie) Come on, 
 Marjorie ! 
 
 Marjorie. (Good-naturedly remonstrative) 
 Now, George 
 
 Smith. (Taking her by arm) You're my friend, 
 but business is business. Come on ! 
 
 Marjorie. (Going to the door with Smith — look- 
 ing back — talking) We don't mind George! He's 
 funny but we know he means well. But Em just 
 wild to know how you ever came to work here 
 and — (They have reached r. d. and Marjorie balks, 
 stops and refuses to exit — still talking^ Have you 
 known George very long? 
 
40 WHAT'S WRONG, 
 
 Smith. {Emphatically) Come on! 
 
 Marjorie. It's the strangest thing that you two 
 young people 
 
 Smith. Stop your crawfishing 1 {Puts his hands 
 gently hut firmly against her back and pushes her 
 off — he follows her and re-enters almost im- 
 mediately. He slams door shut, jerks out watch 
 savagely. Sotto voce, hut angry and disgusted as he 
 gazes at watch) Hell! When a man's in a hurry, 
 it's just one damned friend after another! {Jams 
 watch in pocket — then seeing Jennie) Oh, — excuse 
 me ! — I like my friends but 
 
 Jennie. {Drolly) I understand. You like them 
 hut you have no time for them. 
 
 Smith. {Locks the door) Precisely! You don't 
 mind my locking this door, do you? 
 
 Jennie. Why should I — if you leave the key in it. 
 
 Smith. {Taking MSS. from Jennie who is 
 near desk) All done? {Before she can anszver) 
 Fine ! Now for dictation. {Slaps MSS. on desk, 
 seizes speaking tube, presses it to his ear and pushes 
 button. Then to Jennie) Sit down, {Indicat- 
 ing chair at r. of desk, then in the tube) Eddie, 
 get me a cigar and — {Eyes Jennie) a cocktail — 
 quick! {Drops tube. To Jennie) I don't drink, 
 — but I need something to brace me. You under- 
 stand. {As though to resume business) Now 
 then! I want to answer a letter to — {Begins to 
 hunt for a letter) 
 
 (Jennie nozv seated and ready for dictation, 
 ivatches Smith as he rummages through con- 
 tents of the drawer. Then:) 
 
 Jennie. {Tactfully and ivith a twinkle as if it 
 had been puzzling her) Pardon my inquisitive- 
 ness, Mr. Smith, but why did Mr. Dodge wish to 
 chloroform you? 
 
 Smith. He wanted me to eat one of those slow 
 family meals. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 41 
 
 Jennie. Don't you think it would do you good? 
 
 Smith. (Busy zvith letters, sorting them for the 
 cue he wants) Maybe. No time. 
 
 Jennie. What do you think time was made for? 
 
 Smith. To make money ! 
 
 Jennie. (After a contemplative pause, during 
 ■which Smith grows impatient with letters) You 
 probably think me very inquisitve, but 
 
 Smith. (Tossing letters into desk) Not at all! 
 Not at all ! (He snatches another bundle of letters 
 and searches hurriedly for the one he wants) 
 
 Jennie. Please don't think I am asking these 
 ([uestions out of idle curiosity. 
 
 Smith. (Quickly and with a trace of impatience 
 keeping right on sorting letters) That's all right! 
 Ask them ! 
 
 Jenny. (Frankly) How much money are you 
 trying to make? 
 
 Smith. Lots of it! 
 
 Jennie. When you have made lots of it, what 
 will you do? 
 
 Smith. (Still busy with letters, quickly) Marry 
 a wife and keep her like she ought to be kept, I 
 suppose. 
 
 Jennie. (Puzzled) Yon '' suppose? " Haven't 
 you any definite plans? 
 
 Smith. I'm too busy to plan. (Impatiently) 
 That confounded letter! Where did I — (Looks 
 again ) 
 
 Jennie. Did you place it on file? 
 
 Smith. No: didn't have time. (Tosses letters 
 into drawer, slams drawer shut — jerks open an- 
 other drawer— snatches out letters) 
 
 Jennie. Do my questions bother you? 
 
 Smith. (Searching for the lost letters) Not at 
 all ! Not at all ! 
 
 Jennie. When you are ready to marry, how 
 old will you be? 
 
 Smith. The Tord only knows! 
 
42 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Jennie. Approximately how old? 
 
 wSmith. {Somewhat explosively) Forty! What 
 did I do with that — {He sorts letters -with increased 
 rapidity ) 
 
 Jennie. {After a slight pause) Aren't you 
 afraid that by the time you are forty all the nice 
 women will be gone? 
 
 Smith. {Confidently) Not a bit! 
 
 Jennie. You know, they are marrying awfully 
 fast. 
 
 Smith. Yes, but there are just as fine fish in the 
 sea as ever were caught. 
 
 Jennie. But to catch those fine fish, you must 
 have fresh bait. 
 
 Smith. Do you mean to insinuate that my bait 
 is stale? 
 
 Jennie. If it isn't, it soon will be. 
 
 Smith. What do you mean? 
 
 Jennie. You will pardon my frankness, Mr. 
 Sm'ith, but have you looked at yourself lately? 
 
 Smith. Haven't had time. 
 
 (Jennie takes a little mirror out of the small hag 
 at her waist.) 
 
 Jennie. {Offering Smith the mirror) Reflect a 
 moment? (Smith ga::es at self in mirror) Mr. 
 Smith, I haven't known you very long, but I've 
 known you long enough to see that if you keep on 
 working at this hurry-hurry, break-neck speed, by 
 the time you are forty, you will be so old and 
 wrinkled and hump-backed that no self-respecting 
 fish will even nibble. 
 
 Smith. Think so? 
 
 Jennie. Do you doubt your own reflection? 
 Look at yourself again. 
 
 Smith. {Siizing up his face, satisfied) I guess 
 I can land at least one pretty good fish. 
 
 Jennie. Certainly — of a kind. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 43 
 
 Smith. (Sharply) What's that? 
 [ennie. There are always those that rise to 
 golden bait. 
 
 Smith. What? 
 
 Jennie. Money will always buy one kind of 
 wife, but I didn't think that was the kind you 
 wanted. 
 
 Smith. It isn't. I want a wife who will love 
 nie for what I am, not for what I have. 
 
 Jennie. I am ready for that dictation now. 
 Smith. (Begins to pace nervously r., dictating 
 rapidly) Mr. F. H. Henderson, Winnipeg, Canada. 
 Yours of recent date received and would have 
 answered immediately hut— (After a pause — to 
 Jennie) Is there any way in which a man can 
 preserve his — his bait? 
 
 Jennie. (Drolly) It has been done. 
 Smith. How? 
 
 Jennie. Plenty of sleep, plenty of exercise and 
 lots of w^holesome food. (Loud knozving at R. d.) 
 SxMith. (Emphatically) Busy! 
 Eddie. (Loudly outside R. d.) Cocktail! 
 Smith. (As he dashes to R. d.) Coming! 
 ( Unlocks door. Enter Eddie carrying tray con- 
 taining cocktail and big black cigar wrapped up in 
 tinfoil. Smith grabs cocktail in one hand and 
 cigar in other. Exit Eddie briskly, with tray. 
 Coming to desk) Anything else? (Drops cocktail 
 (/lass to floor, smashing it) Oh, damn! 
 
 Jennie. Putting it as man to man, Mr. Smith, 
 and in the vernacular of a gentleman— everything 
 you do, you do too damn fast. 
 
 Smith. (Lighting cigar) Thanks. 
 
 Jennie. Welcome. Now as to that dictation — 
 
 Smith. Oh. yes, where w^as I? 
 
 Jennie. Mr. F. H. Henderson, Winnipeg ■ 
 
 Smith. Oh, yes — would have answered sooner 
 had I not been working day and night, closing up 
 the biggest land deal ever— (PaM.y^) Say: why 
 
44 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 did you ask me how old I'd be before I got ready 
 to go fishing? 
 
 Jennie. (Seriously, after a slight pause) Do 
 you know what is going to happen if you keep on 
 hurrying? 
 
 Smith. Sure! I'll be rich and retire — then I 
 can rest. 
 
 Jennie. (Droll but significant) A long rest. 
 
 Smith. (Suddenly remembering it, and emphat- 
 ically) That reminds me — Oh, that's awful — a 
 dear friend of mine had a funeral to-day and I 
 was to have been one of his pallbearers. (Dis- 
 gusted zvith himself as he glances at watch) Huh! 
 Too late now. I've been so rushed that I — 
 (About to dictate — then pausing suddenly as though 
 he'd forgotten zvhat he'd intended to do. Pressing 
 his hand to his forehead. After a slight pause) 
 That's queer. What— what'd I call vou in here 
 for? 
 
 Jennie. To dictate some letters. 
 
 Smith. Oh, yes — Who was that fellow I was 
 dictating to? 
 
 Jennie. (Looking at him as though remarking 
 his for get fulness) Mr. Henderson — of Winnipeg — ■ 
 
 Smith. Yes — Er — I'm a bit heady — guess I'm 
 Iningry. (Reaches for the plate containing the pie. 
 Enter Eddie. Irritably) Now what is it? 
 
 Eddie. Here's a special delivery letter, sir. 
 (Hands him the letter and starts tozvard r. d.) 
 
 Smith. Eddie! 
 
 Eddie. (Stopping, near door) Yes, sir. 
 
 Smith. (Pressing hand against forehead) Fetch 
 me a pair of Bromos — for my head. 
 
 Eddie. Yes, sir. 
 
 Smith. (From force of habit as Eddie exits) 
 Hurry! (Exit Eddie; Smith rips letter open. To 
 Jennie, as he jerks contents from envelope) Just 
 a moment. 
 
 Jennie. Certainly. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 45 
 
 {As he reads letter, Jennie ga^es at him zvith an 
 expression of mingled curiosity and sympathy. 
 She is keenly interested in him, but it is the 
 interest of an observer, not an admirer.) 
 
 Smith. (As he reads letter) Confound it! 
 {Deeply regretful as he reads second page of letter) 
 Confound it!! (As he reads third page of letter: 
 angrily) Con — Hang me, anyway! 
 
 Jennie. Why? 
 
 Smith. Day before yesterday was my mother's 
 birthday. 
 
 Jennie. {Anxiously) And you forgot all about 
 it ? 
 
 Smith. Yes. 
 
 Jennie. How old is she? 
 
 Smith. Sixty. 
 
 Jennie. Tc! Tc! To! Didn't vou ever think 
 
 of her? 
 
 Smith. Yes, but — Take this wire. 
 Jennie. Yes, sir. 
 
 (Smith runs his fingers through his hair as if try- 
 ing to collect his thoughts. His expression is 
 that of a self -condemning man.) 
 
 .Smith, l^ear Mother : Yours received. Regret 
 e\ eii more than you failed to remember your birth- 
 day. First time has ever occurred ; promise you 
 will be the last. No, not ill. Busy, that's all — very, 
 \'ery busy. (He pauses) 
 
 Jennie. (As if repeating ivhat had been dictated 
 to her and as though writing it) Too busy to re- 
 member even his dear old mother. (Smith 
 li'inces) Is that all? 
 
 Smith. Yes. (Jennie rises) Send only that 
 last sentence — yours, George. 
 
 Jennie. x\ren't you going to send her any love? 
 
 (Smith doesn't hear her — is thinking.) 
 
46 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Smith. " Too busy to remember even his dear 
 old mother." (He takes piece of pie from table 
 mechanically) 
 
 Jennie. (Kindly) -What is your mother's 
 address ? 
 
 Smith. Ohio. (Bites end off pie) 
 
 Jennie. (As she writes on pad) What town? 
 
 Smith. Why — why- — it seems to have slipped 
 my mind. 
 
 Jennie. Surely you know where your mother 
 Hves? 
 
 Smith. (Bewildered) That's strange — (He 
 places piece of pie on edge of desk, then takes 
 several letters from inside of coat pocket) I gen- 
 erally have one of her — one of her — one of her 
 letters with me. (He fumbles the letters, aim- 
 lessly) 
 
 Jennie. (Kindly) Can't you even remember the 
 name of the town? 
 
 Smith. (Getting more confused) I — I seem to 
 have forgotten it. 
 
 Jennie. A man ought to know the name of his 
 home town. 
 
 Smith. (To Jennie) What were we talking 
 about ? 
 
 Jennie. Your mother's address. 
 
 Smith. (Almost stupidly) What about it? 
 (Picks up piece of pie, automatically) 
 
 Jennie. Why 
 
 ( Smith begins to glance around the room as if it 
 were a strange place. Jennie stops short and 
 watches him anxiously.) 
 
 Smith. Where — where am I? 
 
 Jennie. Here — in your office. 
 
 Smith. [Listlessly) Oh, yes, — yes. (Taking 
 deep breath) I — I feel all in. (Takes a bite of 
 pie) 
 
WHAT'S WRONC^.. 47 
 
 Jennik. (Sympathetically) Does your head 
 ache ? 
 
 Smith. Not exactly. (He takes another bite of 
 pie) 
 
 {Enter Eddie with a glass of Bromo Seltzer in 
 each hand. Jennie beckons him to stay 
 ■ zvhere he is.) 
 
 Eddie. (In an excited whisper) What's the 
 matter? 
 
 Jennie. Nothing- — but don't tell anyone. (In- 
 dicating the glasses) Throw that away and get 
 Mr. Smith something nourishing. 
 
 Eddie. But he said- 
 
 Jennie. (Firmly) I say get him some hte( tea. 
 
 Eddie. But he 
 
 Jennie. (Quietly but emphatically) Mind! 
 
 Eddie. (Meekly) Yes. ma'am, (Exits — closing 
 door) 
 
 (Jennie takes piece of pie out of Smith's right 
 hand, and tosses it into waste basket.) 
 
 Smith. (Weakly remonstrative) You've thrown 
 away my breakfast! 
 
 Jennie. (Gently) Eddie is bringing you some 
 be:f tea. And when he returns I shall have him 
 get you some toast and eggs and milk, and a nice 
 piece of beefsteak. 
 
 Smith. (Complainingly) A horse couldn't eat 
 that ! 1 can't spare the time to eat a regular meal ! 
 
 Jennie. (Sympathetically, but with a frankness 
 which borders on the emphatic) Mr. Smith, you 
 are on the verge of a nervous collapse. 
 
 Smith. I'm too busy to collapse. (Placing hand 
 to forehead, he rises) Now as to that dictation — • 
 (Dictating slozvly and carefidly) Mr. E. H. 
 Wmnipeg, Henderson, Canada. (Starts l., but 
 Jennie stops him gently) 
 
 1 E N N I E. ( Kindly ) Sit down . 
 
48 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Smith. (Trying to reason zvith her) Now 
 listen — — 
 
 Jennie. {Pleasantly hut firmly) You listen to 
 me. iShe indicates chair. Smith sits in front of 
 desk. Jennie then sits in pivot chair, above desk) 
 Mr. Smith, since Fve been in your office to-day, a 
 friend has died, a friend has married. ]/our mother 
 has had a birthday, and you haA^e had two invita- 
 tions to dinner — all ignored by you. You stay here 
 hurrying and rushing and life passes you by. You 
 will die without even having lived — and you are too 
 good a man for that. You have been working too 
 hard, Mr. Smith. You must take a rest. 
 
 Smith. I haven't time to rest. I 
 
 Jennie. I am not your family physician, but 
 what you need is to spend several months quietly. 
 
 Smith. But I tell you 
 
 Jennie. The ideal place for you is a farm. 
 
 Smith. But 
 
 Jennie. {With quiet enthusiasm) I know- 
 where there's a farm that will just suit you. 
 
 Smith. {Petulantly) Now listen 
 
 Jennie. {As before) It is in New Jersey. 
 
 Smith. {Emphatically, and as if that were the 
 last straw) No ! I wouldn't live on a farm in 
 Jersey if 
 
 Jenny. {Gently and tactfully) Just on the edge 
 of Jersey. (Encouragingly and as if that would 
 satisfy him completely) You can see New York. 
 
 Smith. Can you? 
 
 Jennie. (Drolly, but seriously) Yes — on a clear 
 day. (Then, smiling, and intimately, almost as if 
 she were telling a child a fairy story) It is a little 
 farm with a little pasture, and a few little fields, 
 and a nice big roomy barn. There is a little house, 
 a cow or two, a few chickens and some bees. Now 
 as I said before, Mr Smith, I am not your family 
 physician, but it does seem to me that the wisest 
 thing vou can do is to lease that farm, go out there. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 49 
 
 put on a pair of overalls and forget everything 
 except the cows and the bees and the chickens. 
 
 Smith. Yes, but 
 
 Jennie. It will be the making of you, Mr. Smith ! 
 Early to bed, windows wide open, fresh air rushing 
 in ! Early to rise, mist on the meadows, sun com- 
 ing up, birds singing, roosters crowing, bees hum- 
 ming! All day long, whenever you are thirsty^ 
 sweet milk. When you are hungry — fresh eggs, 
 fried chicken, milk gravy, vegetables right out of 
 your own garden. (During the above. Smith, 
 7vith his hands laying on the desk, has watched 
 Jennie as if fascinated. Jennie is now leaning 
 forward and her face is radiant with enthusiasm. 
 Slight pause, then Jennie taps the back of Smith's 
 hand lightly and smiles) Honestly, don't you think 
 you should go to Jersey? Don't you? 
 
 Smith. (Emphatically, but not petulantly. He 
 is simply stating an incontrovertible fact) I can't 
 — I've got to go to South America to-morrow — big 
 land deal- — Argentine. I was going to give you 
 final instructions before I left. 
 
 Jennie. Have you bought your ticket? 
 
 Smith. Yes, and I've cabled I'm coming. 
 
 Jennie. (Gently, yet with an air of finality) 
 But you're not. 
 
 Smith. (Petulantly) I've got to! 
 
 Jennie. (Seriously) Mr. Smith, if you don't 
 take a rest right now, I know what it is going to 
 cost you. 
 
 Smith. (Apprehensively) What do you mean? 
 
 Jennie. My father used to do the same thing 
 you are doing — forgot and — the rest of it — and it 
 killed him, 
 
 Smith. (Surprised, but quietly) Really? 
 
 Jennie. Yes — and we don't want that to hap- 
 pen to you. Father hurried and worried, wouldn't 
 take time to eat and grew so nervous that he 
 couldn't sleep. 
 
50 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Smith. (As if certain she could have done it if 
 anyone could) Couldn't you put him to sleep? 
 
 Jennie. No. Like you, he wouldn't listen to 
 reason. 
 
 Smith. Fm listening. I've never listened so 
 much to anybody in my life. 
 
 Jennie. (Eyes him) Thank you. Finally, my 
 father's nerves gave away, he became paralyzed 
 and — (Significantly) Isn't Spanish the national 
 language of Argentine? 
 
 Smith. (Pu::;zled h\ the abrupt transition) 
 W^hy? 
 
 Jennie. (Matter-of-fact, yet nith a significant 
 little emphasis on "I") I speak Spanish. 
 
 Smith. Say — you know, you're a wonderful girl. 
 You can typewrite and do Settlement work and 
 write shorthand and speak Spanish 
 
 Jennie. That's how I learned to typewrite. T 
 taught a little stenographer Spanish and she taught 
 me stenography. 
 
 Smith. What else do you know? 
 
 Jennie. A great deal — about land. 
 
 Smith. (Puzzled) How does that happen? 
 
 Jennie. I was raised on it. Father never 
 talked of anything else- — and in our home, father 
 did all the talking. 
 
 Smith. (Deeply interested in the girl — and as if 
 to make her a business offer) Say — (Then pauses 
 as if to collect his thoughts) 
 
 Jennie. Were you going to Argentine to buy 
 land or sell it? 
 
 Smith. Buy. 
 
 Jennie. Wheat land? 
 
 Smith. How'd you guess it? 
 
 Jennie. I was raised on land. W^hen does your 
 boat sail? 
 
 Smith. Noon- — to-morrow. 
 
 Jennie. I can do it nicely and I'll cable you full 
 details. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 51 
 
 Smith. {Puzded) What do you mean? 
 
 Jennie. I am going to South America and you 
 are going to New Jersey. 
 
 Smith. But 
 
 Jennie. This afternoon, we will go over and 
 look at the farm. 
 
 Smith. Listen 
 
 Jennie. On our way over and coming back, you 
 can tell me what to do in Argentine. 
 
 Smith. Yes, but 
 
 Jennie. {Surprised and as if defending her honor. 
 Rising) Don't you trust me? 
 
 Smith. Trust you? (Rises, then with deep 
 sincerity) Why, Miss Brown, if I had only one 
 dollar in the world and the wolf was scratching at 
 that door with both feet — I'd give you that dollar 
 and let you go to Paris. That's how much I trust 
 you! 
 
 Tennie. Then surely .you will trust me with a 
 little Mother-Earth in Argentine? 
 
 Smith. (Putting hand to head again) Oh! 
 
 Jennie. Sit down. (Enter Eddie r. d., with 
 the beef tea on a tray, also a spoon, napkin and small 
 salt and pepper shakers. As she takes the tray 
 ivhich Bi:!DIe brings her) Get Mr. Smith's coat 
 and hat. 
 
 Eddie. Yes, ma'm. (Starts towards clothes 
 cabinet) 
 
 Jennie. (As she places tray on desk) And order 
 a taxi. 
 
 Eddie. Yes, ma'm. (During the following, 
 Eddie brings Smith's coat and hat from clothes 
 cabinet) 
 
 Jennie. (To Smith, putting a napkin in front of 
 him zvith all a woman's tenderness zvhen taking 
 care of someone) I am sure you are going to like 
 that little farm. {Handing him the beef tea) It's 
 a perfect darling! (Smith takes beef tea and 
 makes a wry face. Jennie sees that he doesn't like 
 
52 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 the stuff, but pretends that she thinks he does like 
 it^ smiling) It's very nice, isn't it? They make 
 beef tea so appetizing now-a-days. (Smith glances 
 at her as if about to say: " This is awful stuff.") 
 A little more salt? {Smiling at him and shaking a 
 little more salt into his beef tea as the curtain falls) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 The Scene: — The barn-yard of Smith's New 
 Jersey farm, tzvo months later. About it A. 
 M. on a hot summer day. 
 
 Rear — The barn, afl old large one, extends 
 from one side of the stage to the other. Center 
 of barn, a large roller-door. It is open and 
 through the doorway can be seen a long nar- 
 rozv zvindow in rear of farm. It is directly 
 opposite the front door. Through this zvin- 
 dozu can be seen long rozvs of chicken yards 
 zvith small zvhite coops which have green 
 roofs. The yards are built, and arranged, like 
 the runways in front of barn. The entire field, 
 several acres in size, is used for chicken rais- 
 ing. Beyond the field is an old stone fence, 
 some trees, and then a typical Nezv Jersey 
 landscape under a clear summer sky. Aboz>e 
 the front door, a small double door opening 
 into hay loft. It is closed but practical. To 
 the R. and l. of barn door and built against 
 the barn are mesh zvire pigeon coops. They 
 are as high as the barn door. The coop on the 
 L. is filled zvith live Blue Rock pigeons; the coop 
 on the R., is filled with live white pigeons. Each 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 53 
 
 voop has a small door in tJic corner, nearest 
 the barn door. 
 
 Right— The farm-house. It is a low white 
 structure with a window in the center — at 
 about R. 2 E. This window, which is practical, 
 is open, but its shutters, which are green, 
 are closed. At the rear end of the house are 
 three tvoodcn steps and a small landing, or 
 porch, leading to the kitchen door, zvhich is 
 practical. Between the end of the house and 
 the barn is an open space through which can 
 be seen a green clover field and in the back- 
 ground a stone fence and dusty road. 
 Left — Chicken runways, about five feet zvide 
 and fenced with mesh wire five feet high. 
 These runways e.vtend from within six feet 
 of rear coops to lower front, l. i e. The lath 
 doors of these runways are about eight feet 
 from the side of the stage. There are four 
 runzvays. Liz'e chickens, about tzvo-thirds 
 grozvn, occupy these runzvays. 
 Right Center, near the house and parallel 
 zvith it, is a zvooden. bench tzvo feet high and ten 
 feet long upon zvhich are zvhite bee-hives zvith 
 supers. The hives face l. The upper end of 
 this bench is on a line zvith upper end of run- 
 zvays. 
 
 llierc arc tzvo entrances to the barn yard r. 4 
 and L. 4. There is a hand-sickle on the gate 
 of the lozver runzvay. 
 At Rise: — Pause during zvhich cockerels try to 
 crozv and pullets try to " sing.'' 
 Veteran cocks crozv lustily, off rear, egg- proud 
 hens cackle loudly, and pigeons coo — Then the 
 green shutters open and Phoebe Snow thrusts 
 her head out of the zvindozv. 
 Phoebe is a fat negress cook of about forty, 
 and zvears a bandana-handkerchief on her 
 
54 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 head. She looks all around to be sure Smith 
 is nozvhere in sight. 
 
 Phoebe. {Calling loudly and somcwhaf angrily 
 ■ — looking iozvard barn) Mistah Smith 1 {A calf 
 hlats off L. (m the distance) as though it were 
 being dragged tozvards the barn. Slight pause, then 
 louder) Mistah Smith! (Slight pause, then — the 
 calf's blat coming nearer) Mistah Smith, your 
 bwekfast has done bin waitin' for t'ree hours I 
 Are you comin' or ain't yuh? {Pause, during zvhich 
 she listens alertly. Then, disgusted, her head dis- 
 appears from zvindow and she slams the shutters 
 shut, and appears at the door—^nozv very angry — 
 calls off) Mistah Smith! {The calf blats uozv as 
 though very near) 
 
 Smith. {Voice off) Hello! 
 
 Phoebe. Bwekfast! {The calf blats nearer) 
 
 Smith. {Voice off) I haven't time to monkey 
 with breakfast ! I'm busy ! 
 
 Phoebe. {Muttering to herself) All right! 
 Den stay out dere an' work yuh fool head off ! 
 I should worry! {She re-enters house) 
 
 Smith. (Calls) Woodrow ! (Louder) Wood- 
 row ! 
 
 (The hayloft door opens slozvly, revealing Wood- 
 row^ a farmer boy of fourteen zvearing a black 
 sateen shirt, skin-tight, faded blue overalls and 
 a seedy strazv hat through the strazvless top of 
 zvhich protrudes his shaggy head. He is on 
 his knees.) 
 
 Woodrow. (Loud, but zvith languid drazvl) 
 Yep? 
 
 Smith. (Still off) You attend to those incu- 
 bators ! 
 
 Woodrow. {Calling to Smith) I am attendin' 
 to 'em. ' (To himself) I can't work faster'n I can. 
 
AVHAT'S WRONG. 55 
 
 ( Rntrr Smith hurriedly, l. 4 e. He is breathless 
 and is mopping his perspiring face. He wears 
 overalls, a soft shirt unbuttoned at the throat 
 and sleeves rolled up to elbozvs, and a large 
 strazv hat. He is much tanned but quite as thin 
 and nervous as in the previous Act. He is 
 going to call, but the telephone rings and he 
 rushes to barn door. He snatches a telephone 
 from shelf r.. side of door just inside the 
 barn and jams receiver to his ear. The tele- 
 phone has about thirty feet of insulated zvire 
 cord zvhich permits him to walk all over the 
 yard while telephoning. During the follozving 
 scene he paces nerz'ously to v.,, and l., in front 
 of barn. 
 
 Smith. {In his characteristic high tension voice) 
 TTello — Yes — Yes-^Tbis is the George H. Smith 
 chicken farm. Broilers? — You bet your life! — 
 Fifty cents a pound — -Forty-five — in Rhode Island? 
 — Then l)uy them in Rhode Island ! — You can't 
 touch one of my Jersey chickens for a cent less 
 than fifty— ^Twenty-five dozen? — I'll make you 
 twenty-five at forty-nine — Say, you don't want 
 l)roilers: you want setting-hens! (Smith jams re- 
 ceiver into its hook. The calf blats again. Very 
 loud as he looks off l.) Woodrow ! {The calf 
 blats) Woodrow! {Still louder as he strides to- 
 ward barn door) Woodrow! 
 
 \A()ODROw. \\^as you callin'? 
 
 Smith. {Gaj^ing up at W\)Odr()w — emphatically) 
 \ tbought 1 told \ou to tie that calf so it couldn't 
 get away ! 
 
 \\'()(>i)R()W\ I did. 
 
 Smith. Like thunder! I've been chasing it for 
 half an hour! {Wipes his forehead) 
 
 Woodrow. {Grinning, as Smith mops brow 
 with handkerchief) Did yu catch 'er? 
 
 SivriTH. Come down here! 1 caught her all 
 
56 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 right ! and I'll tie her myself this time. Whereas a 
 rope? (As Smith starts tozvards the barn to look 
 for a rope — the telephone in his hand, the calf 
 Mats) Shut up! (The calf blats) Blat then! 
 Keep on blatting. 
 
 WooDROW. (Meekly) Here's a rope. {As 
 VVooDROW picks up rope from l. of loft-door^ 
 Smith places telephone on ground. Then Wood- 
 row tosses rope to him and he catches it. The calf 
 blats just as Smith catches the rope) 
 
 Smith. (Goes tozvard l. 4, tying noose in rope 
 as he goes) I'll blat you! 
 
 {Exits Smith hurriedly l. 4, tying noose in rope 
 as he exits. Woodrow grins at Smith until he 
 exits, then sits in the loft-doorway and, dang- 
 ling his bare-feet against the side of the barn, 
 presses the first two fingers of his right hand 
 firmly and perpendicularly against his lips, 
 spreads them apart somezvhat, then spits, as if 
 trying to see how far he can 'Spit. He then 
 wipes his fingers across the leg of his overalls, 
 takes a tin buzzer from his pocket, places the 
 loops of twine about each hand and begins to 
 buzz the buzzer. It zuhistles. Suddenly there 
 is a violent hysterical blatting off left, as if 
 Smith and the calf were having a rough-and- 
 tumble fight. It lasts only a moment or tzvo. 
 There is a slight pause, then — Re-enter Smith 
 L. 4, his appearance shows that he has had a 
 tussle zvith the calf. He limps somezvhat on 
 left leg, but has an expression of grim 
 triumph.) 
 
 WooDKow. (Grinning at him) Did you tie 
 her? 
 
 Smith. You bet I did! And I tied her to stayl 
 (Telephone bell rings. Smith dashes to barn 
 door but fails to find telephone) Where in thun- 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 57 
 
 «ler's the- (.S"tv^ the telephone standing where he 
 left it in ham-yard, picks it up. During the follozv- 
 iiiij he paces rapidly back and forth across harn- 
 vard. In 'phone) Hello !— Yes— Squabs? You 
 "bet your— Five a dozen— Certainly, you can get 
 squabs cheaper than that! (Sarcastically) You 
 can get sparrows cheaper, too. But if you want 
 thoro'-bred, milk- fed, full grown squabs youVe got 
 to pay full grown prices— Cheaper than that in 
 Rhode Island?— Say, you're the fellow who wanted 
 milk-fed broilers at mother-hen prices— I don't 
 know your name, partner, but I can guess your 
 nationality. (Jams receiver in its hook and starts 
 tozvard barn. Takes one step then the 'phone 
 rings again. He stops and shoves receiver against 
 his ear) Hello!— Oh, hello, Eddie! What is it? 
 
 Tell him T*\e changed my mind and don't want 
 it- No! I'm not l»uying land now. Everything 
 I've got's for sale. Refer everyone to the agent, 
 (i'bye. (Jams receiver in hook, and starts tozuard 
 ham door to replace 'phone on shelf. Sees \\^ood- 
 Kow, zvho is buzzing the buzzer, and halts. Em- 
 phatically to WooDROw) Are you coming down 
 to-day or next winter? You've been working for 
 me two months and you haven't hurried once. 
 
 WooDROW. (Petulantly, as he puts buzzer in 
 pocket) I'm hurryin' ! 
 
 Smith. (Pointing at rwi-zvays) Feed those 
 chickens some clover. (Starts toivard born door) 
 
 WooDROW\ Gee ! It's hot ! 
 
 (WooDKow swings out of loft door and, hanging 
 on the door-sill, guages the distance to the 
 ground. He is barefoot; his overalls are shin- 
 high and ripped across the left " cheek '' of the 
 seat, exposing to viezv a slice of zvhite skin. 
 He hangs on the sill as though afraid to drop. 
 Smith replaces 'phone on its shelf inside barn, 
 then- looking at Woodrow.) 
 
58 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Smith. Woodrow! Time is money. (Wood- 
 row drops to the ground. He stands, stork-like, on 
 one foot and begins to pick splinter out of right 
 foot which he holds in his hand) Water the 
 pigeons. 
 
 Woodrow. (Still picking at splinter) All right. 
 
 Smith. Hurry! (Hastens to barn door. 
 Peevishly) All right, but can't a feller take time 
 to pick a splinter out of his big toe! (He starts 
 dozvn L., walking on toes of right foot) 
 
 Woodrow. (JVhining) Anyway it's too hot to 
 hurry ! 
 
 Smith. Never mind the heat! Cut your clover. 
 (Grabs rubber coat from peg to i.. of barn door- 
 ivay — inside ) 
 
 Woodrow. (As he takes sickle deliberately from 
 gate) First thing you know, I'll get sunstroke. 
 
 Smith. (Jerking coat on) You stand as much 
 chance of getting sunstruck as the North Pole. 
 (He grabs green bee-veil from l. of door and pulls 
 it down over hat. As he tucks its edges inside of 
 coat-collar and buttons up coat, W'OODROW. sickle in 
 hand, stops in front of lower bee-hive and squints 
 at it closely) 
 
 Woodrow. (Wisely as he squints at bee-hive's 
 entrance board) These here bees're gettin' ready to 
 swarm. (As Smith jerks on rubber gloves taken 
 from coat pocket) What you oughter do is to kill 
 one of the queens. 
 
 Smith. That's what I'm going to do. (Rushes 
 down to lower hive) 
 
 W^ooDROw. (Surprised) Ain't you goin' to 
 smoke 'em first? 
 
 Smith. Haven't time. 
 
 XA'ooDRow'. Gee ! Then it's me for the clover ! 
 (Smith jerks lid off of lower hive) Good morn- 
 ing! (He runs to r. 4 e. and exits) 
 
 (Smi'ih tosses the lid to the ground, steps to the 
 
'■ WHAT'S WRONG. 59 
 
 lozver side of hive — at end of bench — lifts comb 
 frame from the hiz'e and examines it to find a 
 queen. The 7vax of the frame is black with 
 age. One side examined, Smith flops the 
 frame over and scans the other side hurriedly. 
 The calf tneanwhile, lias been blatting, and con- 
 tinues to blat about every tenth second. As 
 Smith is scanning the brood-frame, an auto- 
 mobile horn sounds off R. Smith, busy with 
 frame, pays no attention to the horn. The 
 frame examined, Smith places it rather 
 roughly on the ground, resting it upright 
 against the leg of the bench. He then grabs 
 another frame from hive. As he does so, the 
 calf Mats very loudly. Enter Mrs. Lef.-Hugh, 
 R. 4 E. She wears a light green automobile 
 cloak, gloves, and a motoring hat covered with 
 a large green veil, which also covers her face. 
 Immediately upon entering, Mrs. Lee-Hugh 
 glances suspiciously at Smith who is so busy 
 with frames that he does not see her, then she 
 stops and listens, as if trying to locate the calf. 
 The calf blats again, zvhereupon Mrs. Lee- 
 Hugh crosses resolutely to l. 4 e. and exits. 
 Exit Mrs. Lee-Hugh l. 4 e. Smith, tvho has 
 been examining second brood-frame, now places 
 it quickly and somewhat roughly against the 
 first one and jerks third frame from hive. The 
 calf blats a long, angry, defiant blat. As Smith 
 starts to examine third brood-frame re-enter 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh, l. 4 e. She goes resolutely 
 toward Smith, ivhose back is to her.) 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {With offieial dignity) Are 
 K'ow the proprietor of this place? 
 
 Smith. {Busy ivith frame and without looking 
 It her) Yes. What do you want — squabs or 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Who tied that calf? 
 
 Smith. {As before) T did and I tied it to 
 
6o WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 stay, too! (Flops frame over to examine other 
 side) 
 
 Mrs. Lek-Hugh. Well young man, you can 
 consider yourself arrested. (Smith glances at her, 
 blankly) 
 
 Smith. [As if not comprehending) What? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. As an officer of the law, T 
 place you under arrest. 
 
 Smith. Now wait a minute. This is a case of 
 mistaken identity. I'm an honest, hard-working 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Emphatically) I am a mem- 
 ber of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty. 
 Here is my star. {Shotving him nickel-plated star 
 on underside of cloak lapel. Taking hold of his 
 arm) Come along. , 
 
 Smith. Say, I've no time to listen to your non- 
 sense — I'm not a criminal to begin with and in the 
 second place I'm entirely too busy to be arrested. 
 
 (Jerks away from her and begins to e.vamiue brood- 
 frame, energetically turning it over and over 
 during the follozuing scene.) 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Emphatically) You're guilty 
 of cruelty 1 I've caught you red handed. I was 
 driving past here in my car, and I heard that poor 
 calfie crying clear from the road ! Now you take 
 off your veil and come with me. 
 
 Smith. (Politely but emphatically) Madam, 1 
 don't know who you are but let me remind you of 
 this vital fact — These bees have not been smoked. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (IVisely) Oh, you can't bluff 
 me that way ! 
 
 Smith. I'm not trying to bluff you, but if you 
 stay here much longer you'll get stung. Under- 
 stand? Stung! 
 
 (He is no'iV very close to Mrs. Li:i:-1Ugii. She 
 peers into his face, her nose almost touching 
 
WHAT'S WRONCi. 6t 
 
 his nose, then faces are close together. 
 Then — ) 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Delightfully surprised) Why. 
 Mr. Smith! (Lets go his arm and extends her 
 hand) How do you do? 
 
 Smith. (Baffled) T heg your pardon, hut 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Szveetly) Don't you remeni- 
 her me? (Puts her face close to his) 
 
 Smith. Your manner is somewhat familiar, hut 
 —Raise the curtain. T can't see your face. 
 
 (Mrs. Lee-Hugh raises veil and smiles.) 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. No7i' don't you recos^nize me? 
 
 (vVisTTTH places brood -frame on top of the hive, 
 looks curiously at Mrs. Lee-Httgh, then—^ 
 
 Smith. You're prohahly a very celebrated 
 woman, hut T'm up to mv neck in bees and — who 
 are you? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Fetchingly) Why. 1 am the 
 friend of the poor old horse you are pensionino! 
 
 f Smith's face (/rows long.) 
 
 SMrni. Oh. 
 
 Mrs. Tj:e-Hugh. Fm on my way now to the 
 farm where the dear old pet lives. 
 
 SisiTTH. Then don't let me detain you. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Oh. you're not— It's a 
 pleasure. (Smiling, as she offers her hand, a la 
 S'li'an's neck) But what on earth are you doing- way 
 out here? 
 
 Smith. Restin"! (He iurns abnif^tly to hee- 
 hii'c and snatches up brood frame) 
 
 Mrs. Lke-Hugh. (Radiantly) 1 have wonder- 
 ful new'S for you, Mr. Smith ! Lve heen intending 
 to write you. 
 
C^2 WHAT'S WRONG, 
 
 Smith. (Suspiciously) What is it? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Girlishly silly) Guess f 
 
 Smith. (As he shoves veil up on hat, exposing 
 face to view) My dear old horse has galloped up 
 the golden stairs. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh, Guess again I {She places tips 
 of fingers to lips as if trying to suppress a chuckle) 
 
 Smith. YouVe sold it. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Smiling, as she shakes her 
 head) Once more. 
 
 Smith. {Hopefully) You've sent him to the 
 XVhite House for a wedding present. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Shaking her head and smil- 
 ing) It is such glorious news! Can't you guess? 
 
 Smith. T haven't time to monkey with guessing 
 —tell me. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Well, yesterday 
 
 Smith. {Affecting a smile) Yes — go on — tell 
 me — yesterday 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Early yesterday morning the 
 dear old horse that you have been pensioning— — — 
 {Pauses) 
 
 Smith. {Impatiently) Yes, yes — Go on, don't 
 stop, you might forget. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Well, the dear old horse — 
 
 {She chuckles. Smith grabs pencil and paper from 
 coat pocket and shoves them to her.) 
 
 Smith. Write it! If you can't say it, write it! 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. I prefer to tell it. 
 Smith. {Irritated) Then fr// it ! Quick! Time 
 is 
 
 {He jams pencil and paper in coat pocket and Mrs. 
 Lee-Hugh nerves herself into calmness.) 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. Well, early yesterday morn- 
 ing the dear old horse that you have been pensioning 
 found a coltie- 
 
WHAT^S WRONG. 63 
 
 Smith. {Puzded) I don't quite grasp you. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Now quite serious — disgusted 
 with Smith's stupidity) Frankly, and putting it 
 bluntly, Mr. Smith, your horse is the mother of a 
 colt. 
 
 (Smith is staggered at this news. Gaining his 
 equilibrium, he places his hand tenderly on his 
 forehead.) 
 
 Smith. (IVeakly — recovering from the shock) 
 Why the old son-of-a-gun ! 
 
 Mrs. Lf.e-Hugh. (Disappointed) Why don't 
 3^ou smile? 
 
 Smith. {Thoughtfully) I'm trying to figure out 
 who the joke is on, me or the horse. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugii. On you, of course. 
 
 Smith. Who's going to support Coltie? 
 
 Mrs. T.ef-Hugh. {Smiling) You are — of 
 course. 
 
 Smith. Not if 1 know myself! 
 
 \ Jerks veil down over face. Tucks it into coat 
 collar and goes to bee-hive.) 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Indignantly) Mr. Smith, you 
 are no gentleman ! 
 
 (Smith zvith frame in hand, turns to Mrs. Lee- 
 Hugh.) 
 
 Smith. We won't argue that point. (Then 
 abruptly) Are your skirts hobbled? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. {Precise) That's none of your 
 lii^siness! 
 
 Smith. We won't argue that point, either, but 
 bees are no respecters of persons and they have 
 bccv. knozvn to migrate upwards. 
 
64 VVHAT'^ WRONG. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. It takes more than bees to 
 make nic desert my duty. 
 
 Smith. MI right! All right! Stay! Stay!! 
 Rut if anything awful happens, don't blame me. 
 
 (As v'^MTTH places bee frame on ground directly in 
 front of Mrs. Lee-Hugh, Phoebe Snow opens 
 shutters and pokes her head out,) 
 
 Phoebe. Mistah Smith. 
 
 Smith. Yes. What do you want, Phoebe? 
 
 Phoebe. (Deliberately) Yuh bwekfast was done 
 ready an' on de table three hours ago. 
 
 Smith. All right. Keep it there and I'll eat it 
 for dinner. 
 
 Phoebe. But 
 
 Smith. ( EniphaticaUy) Busy! 
 
 Phoebe. All right! Starve if yuh want to! T 
 should worry! (Jerks her head inside and slams 
 shutters shut) 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (JJ'ith icy emphasis, as Smith 
 is about to take another frame from, hive) Mr. 
 Smith, are you, or are you not, going to support that 
 roltie ? 
 
 Smith. Not 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Caustically) What would 
 \()U do with the poor little thing? 
 
 Smith. Ship it to France for chipped beef — and 
 send mama along for veal. 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Outraged) You cruel, bitter 
 thing! 
 
 Smith. (Dramatically — going toward her) Who 
 made me bitter? 
 
 Mrs. T>ee-LTugh. {Sarcastically) How should T 
 know ? 
 
 Smith. You told me that horse was on its last 
 legs and now it is the mother of a brand new colt. 
 Can you blame me for being bitter? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-LIugh. Just the same, Mr. Smith, you 
 liWiT to provide for that little- 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. • 65 
 
 Smith. Yes, but suppose that little coltie, 
 following in the footsteps of its rickety old mother 
 1)rings into the world another colt, and that colt a 
 cult, and that colt a colt. Am I to be a fairy god- 
 father to all of them? Mrs. Lee-Hugh, I hope to 
 have a family of my own some day. Can that hope 
 be realized if I dissipate my earnings on a flock of 
 promiscuous quadrupeds? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugii. {Shaking her finger in his face) 
 Let me tell you right now, Mr. Smith, if you don't 
 provide for that coltie Sind—(She hesitates, glances 
 front, then clutches her cloak in the vicinity of her 
 left knee-just bchnc the joint, and yelps sharply) 
 Ooch ! 
 
 ( Smith glances at her. Her left hand still clutch- 
 inq her left leg, she grabs her right leg just 
 above the knee, zvinces zvith pain, grits teeth 
 and stares front, frightened, as if expecting, yet 
 dreading, another sting.) 
 
 Smith. Pardon me, but is there anything I can 
 do to relieve you ? 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (Savagely) Mind your own 
 affairs! (She clutches the calf of her left leg and 
 (/asps with pain) Ooh! 
 
 Smith. 'PTadn't you better let me smoke them? 
 
 ( Mrs. Lee-Hugh clutches her right leg spasmod- 
 ically, then her right knee with left hand.) 
 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh. (IVildh, os she grabs hyster- 
 ically at all parts of her limbs) Help! Help! 
 Help! (Smith dashes to barn, seizes smoker from 
 shelf at L. of door, inside barn, rushes down to 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh and begins to smoke her vigorously 
 all over. Mrs. Lee-Hugh shaking fist at him) 
 You're to blame for this! You zvanted them to 
 sting me! No7V T will send the sheriff after you! 
 
66 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 {Grabbing limbs as before) Ouch! Ouch! Ouch! 
 
 {Dashes up to R. 4 e., and off, Smith following and 
 trying to smoke her. At R. 4, he turns, runs 
 back to the hive and begins to smoke bees. As 
 Mrs. Lee-Hugh exits, the calf lets out a 
 long loud agonizing blat. This is the last time 
 it blats. Enter Woodrow, r. 4 e., with an arm. 
 load of clover. When in front of barn door, 
 he lets out a terrified howl, drops the clover 
 and dashes into barn. A moment later he 
 dashes out of barn, batting his ears zvith his 
 hands; hurdles the pile of clover, and dashes 
 off L. 4 E. The next moment, the auto horn 
 sounds, off R. A few moments later it sounds 
 again, farther off.) 
 
 Woodrow. {Peeking in first, enters cautiously, 
 rubbing his right ear and whimpering) H you'd 
 smoked 'em when I told you to, I wouldn't a got 
 stung. 
 
 Smith. {As he replaces brood-frames in hive) 
 They're all right now. They won't sting any more. 
 
 Woodrow. Wow! {Now at pile of clover in 
 front of barn. Grabs his nose with both hands — 
 then, blubbering) Like thunder they won't! I've 
 got a stinger in my nose as long as your arm ! 
 {Boo-hooes) 
 
 {The telephone bell rings zvithin barn, Smith slaps 
 lid on hive and rushes to barn, grabs telephone 
 from shelf and thrusts it beneath veil. During 
 the follozving, in which he half-faces front, he 
 looks like a heavily veiled monk, the bee netting 
 completely hiding his face and the 'phone. HE 
 paces all over the stage, more nervous and 
 faster than before.) 
 
 Smith. Hello! — Yes — This is the George H. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 67 
 
 Smith chicken farm. Broilers?— You bet your-- 
 iMfty cents— My chickens are milk-fed and thoro - 
 bred— You can't beat Jersey chickens. All right! 
 Forty dozen— Yes, sirl This afternoon's express— 
 iHR jams recewer in hook) Rush order from 
 New York! (Jerking off hat and veil) Where s 
 
 the men ? , , • j 
 
 WuuDROW ^Lookiny cross-eyed at his nose and 
 
 trying to pick out the stinger) White washmg the 
 
 new chicken coops. . t. , j f ^ 
 
 Smith Run and get 'em! Rush order from 
 
 New York {HE throws veil and hat aside. 
 
 VvuoDROw starts tozuards l. 4 E-. ^^^^^ ^^^"^9 ^^ get 
 
 the stinger) Run! u ^ f^ 
 
 \\\)ODuow. (Screwing up face) Its too hot to 
 
 run ! 
 
 Smith. Then fly! 
 
 VVuODROW. (Whimpering, as HE runs toward 
 h. 4) What-a you think I am— a bird! 
 
 { Exit WooDKow on a la::y dog-trot, l. 4 e., caress- 
 ing nose as HE exits.) 
 Smith (Jerks out watch, glances at it, then 
 rushes to L. 4 E. Loudly, to Woodrow ) H u r r y ! 
 (Enter Perry Dodge, leisurely, r. 4 e. Mh is 
 fanning himself with a palm-leaf fan, wears 
 a Panama hat, a tzvo piece summer suit and looks 
 cool Smith, looking off Right, is unaware of his 
 entrance. Placing hands to mouth megaphone-like) 
 Hurry 1 
 
 {Starts toward barn door, sees Perry, and stops 
 short. Perry, who has been fanning himself 
 complacently, salutes Smith ivith fan.) 
 
 Perry (Genially calm) W^ell, here 1 am! 
 Smith. Hello! Why didn't you come yester- 
 day? I wired vou. Didn't you get it?^ 
 
 Perry. Yes,' hni— (Smiles and begins to fan 
 
68 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Smith who is now beside him) Georf^^e. T have a 
 littlt' surprise f6r you. 
 
 (Smith shoves fan aside.) 
 
 Smith. Keep it! {.4s fast as a man can speak) 
 I've had one surprise. I want to talk lousiness. 
 Listen : The poultry business in this country's a 
 o^old mine. Few people know it but those that do 
 are getting;- rich. Listen— A o^ood healthy egg costs 
 five cents. Shove it into an incubator for three 
 weeks and out comes a chicken. Feed the chicken 
 four months. If he's a rooster, sell him for a 
 dollar. If he's a hen, keep him and make him lay 
 eggs. Either way, the profit is six thousand per 
 cent. And so long as the American people con- 
 tinue to eat broilers at fifty cents a pound and Qg^^^ 
 at fifty cents a dozen, it's a sure thing. Not only 
 that. Squabs ! Big money ! Profits enormous ! 
 From one little pair of pigeon eggs a man can make 
 a fortune. 
 
 Perr^'. But 
 
 Smith. (Sfoppinc/ him with a silencing (jesture) 
 I'm going to raise squabs and chickens by the 
 thousands and make a bankful of monev. A bank- 
 f ul ! 
 
 Perry. 1 thought you came over here to 
 
 Smith. And I'm going to let you in on it. 
 
 Pkrry. (Fanning vSmjth) How much stuc1< do 
 you want me to buy? 
 
 Smith. There isn't going to be any stock -- 
 strictly an honest enterprise, and I'm going to make 
 you my partner. 
 
 Perry. (Drily, after he stops fanning) Thanks 
 for the com])liment, George. l)ut-^^ — 
 
 (Smiles and begins to fan Smith sh)wly.) 
 
 Smith. Now listen : Nou're manufacturing hulled 
 corn, aren't you? 
 
WHAT'S WKONCi. 69 
 
 Perry. Yes. 
 
 Smith. What do you do with the hulls? 
 
 Perry. Nothing-. 
 
 S^riTH. In the chicken husiness, you can turii 
 your hulls into money. W^ith our poultry eatinsj^ 
 your hulls practically everything will l)e clear profit. 
 Think of it! Six thousand per cent! No7v will 
 \ou be my ])artner? 
 
 Pi:rry. I'm sorry, George, but 
 
 Smttti. Aren't the profits big enough? 
 
 Perry. Yes, but Marjorie and I are going to 
 move to Seattle. 
 
 Smith. (Ama::;ed) What! 
 
 Perry. {Siniling) That was the little surprise \ 
 had for you. 
 
 Smith. (Incredulous) Seattle! 
 
 Perr^-. Yes- -in the state of Washington, — ^you 
 ktiow. 
 
 Smith. Yes, yes, 1 know, but what in thunder 
 are you going way out there for? Isn't New York 
 big enough for you? 
 
 Perry. {Gravely) That's just the trouble, 
 (ieorge — it's too big. 
 
 Smith. P)Ut why Seattle? • Why not Jersey? 
 Hiere's plenty of room over here. 
 
 I*ERRY. (Good nafuredly but very seriously) Yes, 
 but after all New Jersey is little more than a suburb 
 of New York, and Marjorie and 1 want to get away 
 from this New York spirit — you know, S P E E I) 
 and MONEY. 
 
 Smith. \\ by should you want to get away from 
 it? It hasn't affected you. You're just as slow as 
 }ou\e cilways been. 
 
 Perry. (Fanning himself) Yes, and so is 
 Marjorie. Roth of us are just as sensible and 
 deliberate and inseparable now as when we lived 
 1)ack home. I^)Ut if we continue to stay in New 
 York, the New York spirit will get us. 
 • Si\i iTii. Nonsense ! 
 
70 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Perry. It got you. It's getting the other boys. 
 And if 1 stay here, sooner or later it will get me. 
 
 Smith. (Somewhat disgusted) So you're going 
 to move to quiet little Seattle? 
 
 Perry. Yes. Marjorie is digging up her favorite 
 bulbs and rose bushes now — going to take them out 
 there and start the new home right. And I'm going 
 to introduce my hulled-corn into British Columbia 
 and make just enough money to keep us comfort- 
 abl}^ (Smith tries to interrupt — but Perry silences 
 him zvith fan and keeps on talking) Beginning with 
 the first day of next month, I shall be a proud citizen 
 of the Great Far West, the land where people live. 
 
 Smith. Now let me finish what I was saying — 
 and don't talk all the time yourself. 
 
 Perry. (Interrupting him) Now just a minute, 
 (ieorge ■ 
 
 Smith. (Impatient) See that barn? (Pointing 
 at barn) Chuck full of incubators and shipping 
 crates! (Indicating pigeon coops) See those 
 pigeons? They live forever and have an infinite 
 capacity for squabs, and I'm going to make all four 
 sides of that old barn look like one great pigeon 
 coop. (Pointing to r. and l.) And come here — 
 see those run-ways — (Rushes to l. 4 e.) Hurry I 
 
 Perry. Now wait a minute, George 
 
 Smith. (Pointing off left) See those chicken 
 coops. That's where the mother hens are shelling 
 out the golden eggs for my incubators. And the 
 eggs that won't hatch I'll sell to the restaurants in 
 New York. God bless them ! Go down and take a 
 look at 'em. 
 
 Perry. (Good naturedly but emphatically) All 
 right, but before I move another inch, you've got to 
 let me ask one question. 
 
 Smith. (Jerks watch from pocket and glances 
 at it) Ask it! Quick! What is it? Afy time's 
 money. 
 
 Perry. Now that you have plunged into the 
 
WHAT'S VVRONc;. yr 
 
 chicken business, are you going to stay in the land 
 husiness too? 
 
 Smith. No. There's more m'oney in chickens 
 and I love this quiet life. 
 
 Perry. Will you need a stenographer? 
 
 Smith. No, that's one of the beauties of this 
 husiness. All you need are eggs, incubators and a 
 telephone. For a while T thought I'd have to get a 
 bookkeeper but I chang-^d my mind and got a cash- 
 register. 
 
 Perry. Then T don't suppose you will need Miss 
 Brown? 
 
 Smith. No, not here. Hens and petticoats don't 
 jibe. Why? 
 
 Perry. Marjorie wants her to come out to 
 Seattle and live with us. I can give her a good 
 position. You won't object, will you? 
 
 Smith. No take her along. She's a nice girl 
 and she's been doing splendid work for me in South 
 America, but as I say, a poultry farm is no place 
 for a lady. Take her. I don't need her any longer. 
 
 Perry. When will she return from South 
 America? 
 
 Smith. (Glancing impatiently at zvatch) I don't 
 know. Now my chicken coops are brand new and — 
 
 Pf.rry. [Somewhat surprised and puzzled) Have 
 \ on written her that you're going out of the land 
 business? 
 
 Smith. I intended to but haven't had time. 
 ( Taking Perry by arm and escorting him tozvard 
 L. 4) Hurry down and take a look at those new 
 chicken cops. Pd go with you myself but Pve got 
 a rush order from New York and — (Enter Wood- 
 row, L. 4 E. HE has a cockerel in his arms. His 
 nose is very large, due to the bee sting. Eagerly to 
 \\'ooDROw) Did you tell the men? (Before 
 WooDROw can answer. Smith sees the chicken and 
 starts towards Woodrow) What're you doing with 
 that chicken? Is he sick? 
 
-2 \\^HAT^S WRONG. 
 
 WooDRow. (/7.S- Smith takes chicken from hiin) 
 He acts like it, 
 
 (Sm(tu takes hold of chicken's head.) 
 
 SxMiTH. Great Scott 1 He's got a fever ! {Then 
 loudlv, fozuard house— ) Phoebe I Phoebe! Come 
 here 1 Hurry! (HE pulls the fozvl's bill apart, 
 looks dozvn its throat. Disgusted to Perry) Can 
 you beat that for luck I 
 
 Pi£KRv. \Miat's the matter? 
 
 Smith, This broiler's got the mumps, {Look- 
 ing down chicken's throat again) Gad. on botli 
 sides! (Loudly and angrily) Phoebe! 
 
 ( Phokbe enters, from the kitchen door. She wears 
 a bhte kitchen apron and waddles when she 
 walks. ) 
 
 Phokbe. Yes, suh. Pse comin'. 
 
 Smith. Hurry! 
 
 PfiOEBK. (Standing at top of steps- indignantly ) 
 Dis am a fine day to hurry I 
 
 Smith, (Impatient) Come on! Stop that wad- 
 dling! Walk! Move! Hurry! 
 
 PiioKni:. I won't hurry I 
 
 Smith. I don't want you to hurry! .Vll J want 
 \()U to do is to cook some hot bran mash for this 
 sjcl< chicken just as (|uick as you can. Quick!' 
 
 ( n L is no-K' at bottom of steps- she at lop of them ) 
 
 pH()i-.j!i:. (.Inger rising) Now youse look out 
 tiow you talk to me, Mistah Smith ! Pse a lady, suh. 
 Yes. suh! An' I ain't goin' to l)e talked to like I 
 wahn't no lady. No, suh! 
 
 .Smith, (.is if trying to cool her down) Now 
 listen 
 
 !*iioKiu:. ( . higrily, as SI Ui descends steps slowly ) 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 73 
 
 Don't you *' listen " me ! Youse had five cooks 'fore 
 T came here an' dey all quit. Why? {Shaking her 
 finger at him) 'Cause youse wanted dem to do 
 every'ting in a liurry. Hurry ! Hurry ! Hurry ! 
 All de time ! Yes, suh ! An' dey all quit ! An' I'se 
 goin' to quit, too! Yes, suh. (SHE is nozv face to 
 face zvith him and begins to untie her apron strings) 
 
 Smith. (Laying hand on her shoulder, persua- 
 sii'dy) Now look here, Phoebe 
 
 Phoebe. Don't youse " Phoebe " me ! From now 
 on I'se Mrs. Phoebe Snow. Yes, suh. T'se cooked 
 for de best families in South Ca'lina. An' now 
 \'0use want me to cook for an ole sick chickun. 
 What d' youse t'ink I am — a roustabout nigger? 
 No. suh ! ' 
 
 Smith. (Trying to pacify her) You're dead 
 right, Mrs. Snow. You're the best cook that ever 
 greased a griddle. But 
 
 Phoebe. Don't youse try to honey me up. Me — 
 goin' to cook for an ole sick chickun ! No, suh ! 
 
 Smith. (Friendly) Now look here. Mrs. Snow— 
 
 Phoebe. (Hurls apron to ground, and shaking fist 
 in his face) Yuh git an automobil' an' take me back 
 to dat railroad station just as quick as yuh can." 
 Yes, suh ! 
 
 Smith. H you leave here, you'll walk. Under- 
 stand ? 
 
 Phoebe. (Savagely defiant) All right, Mistah 
 Smith! I'll walk, (SHE wabbles angrily up steps, 
 'rurning on him) but I ain't no chicken cook — No, 
 suh! (Then, as SHE opens kitchen door) No. 
 suh! 
 
 (Exit Phoebe, head high, into kitchen. SHE slams 
 door shut. During Smith's scrap with 
 Phoebe, Perry and Woodrow have been 
 amused onlookers. They stand near the barn 
 door.) 
 
 Smith. (Turns to Perry) When you get 
 
74 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 back to New York, send me a cook that'll cook for 
 ch^'ckens. Never mind me! I'm all right. But my 
 chickens must be taken care of ! (HE tucks the 
 chickens under ricjht arm and taking hold of Perry's 
 arm with left hand, starts towards l. 4 e.) Now 
 run dow^n and take a look at those coops. Hurry ! 
 {Shoves Perry off — then looks at watch) 
 
 Phoebe. (IVho has throzvn shutters open and 
 sticks her head out) Mistah Smith. I hope you 
 can't git anoder cook as long as you live ! 
 
 Smith. (Hotly, to Phoebe) You get out of 
 here! I'll do the cooking myself. 
 
 WooDROw. (In despair) Oh, Lordy ! 
 
 Phoebe. (Sarcastically) Ha! Ha! (Withdraws 
 her head from window) 
 
 Smith. (To Woodrow) Turn him loose in the 
 garden so he can't mix with the rest of the broilers. 
 (Shoves chicken into his arm) 
 
 Woodrow. (Remonstrating) But he'll eat up all 
 the tomaters ! 
 
 Smith. Never mind the tomatoes. They'll do 
 him good. Tie a red string round his hind leg so 
 we'll know him. 
 
 Woodrow. But- 
 
 Smith. Hurry I 
 
 Woodrow. (Hotly) All right! 
 
 (Exit Woodrow on the run, r. 4. Smith dashes 
 into barn and exits l. Slight pause, then re- 
 enter Smith from barn, carrying a lath-and- 
 wire chicken crate on his shoidder. Runs down 
 to lozver run-way, drops crate in front of run- 
 zvay gate then dashes up to barn, snatches 
 galvanized iron bucket filled zvith wheat, from 
 inside and to r. of doorway, runs back to lower 
 run-zvay — jerks gate open — enters run-way, 
 closes gate then exits l. 2, calling " Chick! 
 Chick! Come Chick!" and hurling broadcast 
 handfuls of zvheat rapidly.) 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 75 
 
 Smith. {Rapidly and loudly, as he exits, scatter- 
 ing wheat) Chick, chick, chick, chick! Come 
 (.hick! Come chick! Chick, chick, chick, chick, 
 chick ! Come chick ! Come chick ! 
 
 { h E keeps this up — off stage l. for almost a minute 
 then stops. After Smith has been calling 
 " Chick, chick " about ten seconds, re-enter 
 WooDROW, R. 4, carrying the sick chicken, a 
 piece of red rag round its leg. HE enters 
 cautiously, stops a moment and listens to 
 Smith as if half -frightened and wondering 
 what to do zuith the chicken — muttering to him- 
 self.) 
 
 W ooDRovv. I ain't goin' to turn no sick chicken 
 loose in them tomaters if he's going to do the 
 cook in' ! 
 
 {HE starts towards barn-door, espies chicken crate 
 in front of lozver run-way, stops, grins impishly, 
 looks carefully off l. 2 — as if to make sure 
 Smith is not watching him— then opens lid of 
 crate quickly — slips chicken into crate and 
 closes lid. HE then drags crate to house- 
 shoves it under window, then runs up and 
 exits. R. 4. As WooDROw exits, Smith stops 
 calling to the chickens. Then Phoebe Snow 
 pokes her head out of the windozv. SHE now 
 wears a large black hat gaudily trim^med with 
 bright yellozu flowers and yards of cheap 
 ribbon. ) 
 
 PHOi:;r>E. (Angrily, as she pokes her head out of 
 windoiv) Mistah Smith — I — {Not seeing Smith 
 she stops short then mumbles angrily to herself) 
 1 want you to understand dat Fse — I'se a perfectly 
 honest woman — yes, suh! 
 
 ( The sick cockerel in the crate crows hoarsely and 
 
76 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 souiewhat weakly but zvith considerable enthu- 
 siasm. Phoebe stops short. SHE sees the 
 chicken in the crate; stares at it her eyes grow- 
 ing bigger and bigger. SHE glances around to 
 he sure that no one is zvatching her, then she 
 stoops down and raises the lid of the crat? — 
 then after much difficulty, gets hold of the 
 cockerel — lifts him out of the crate and disap- 
 pears. Re-enter Smith, from lower run-way. 
 bucket in hand and on the run. HE jerks open 
 lower run-zvay gate, dashes out, runs to next 
 run-zvay gate, jerks it open, then — ) 
 
 Smith. Hurry, Woodrow ! Hurry! {Jumps 
 inside run-way, slams gate shut and exits off run- 
 ■:c<t\ calling "Chick, chick, chick!" and scattering 
 wheat. Loudly and rapidly as he exits off 2nd run- 
 zvay) Chick, chick, chick, chick! Come chick, 
 come chick ! Chick, chick, chick, chick ! Come 
 chick, come chick ! 
 
 (Exit Smith, 2nd run-zvay — calling as before 
 " Chick, chick," etc. Enter Phoebe, f^'om 
 kitchen door. SHE wears an old long linen 
 duster and carries a dingy old cloth-covered 
 telescope bag. SHE comes down majestically 
 and places ihc telescope bo'i on the (jrouyid near 
 R. 4 — while she buttons her duster. During 
 this, Smith is heard calling to the chickens. 
 W'ooDKOw enters r. 4. At this moment the 
 cockerel crows hoarsely in the telescope. 
 WooDROw quickly glances in the crate and takes 
 in the situation — stands motionless looking at 
 Phoebe. Phoebe glances about quickly to see 
 if any one has heard the croiv — her eyes light on 
 Woodrow. There is a dramatic pause. Wood- 
 row grins at her. SHE tries not to look at 
 him but keeps glancing at him in spite of her- 
 self. HE doesn't take his eyes off her — keeps 
 
WHAT'S W R()N( 
 
 // 
 
 right on grinning. Phoebk zvatches him, her 
 eyes growing big zvith fear and indignation. 
 Presently she picks np teleseop'' sio\'lv tin ' 
 gingerly, but without taking her eyes off 
 WooDROW — then. ) 
 
 Phoebe. (Indignantly) Say, chile, w'at you grin- 
 nin' at? (Woodrow keeps on grinning) Don't yer 
 'cuse me of steal' anything. I'se an honest woman- 
 Yes, suh! You tell Mr. Smith I don't cook fer no 
 sick chickens — no. suh! {Fh^iinees off k. 4 !•: . ) 
 
 {Re-enter Smith, rapidly, froui 2nd ni}i--aHi\, call- 
 ing Woodrow. HE is just in time to see 
 Phoebe go. Has bucket in hand as before. 
 Comes throHdh gateway, slams gate sJiuf. ) 
 
 Smith. Oh, she's gone, eh? 
 
 Woodrow. Yep — an' T bet she lias the chicke 1 
 mumps to-morrow ! 
 
 Smith. What makes you think so? 
 
 ^^ ooDf^ow Oh, 1 dunno — somethin' jest tells me. 
 
 Smith. (To Woodrow, with fresh energ-y) IHere 
 kid — You get the rest of the broilers into their coops 
 — {Shoving bucket at him) And I'll carry the 
 crates. Now! Speed it up! (Woodrow accepts 
 the bucket and Smith dashes to barn. Woodrow 
 goes toward gate of third run-way. From door- 
 way of barn, as Woodrow opens gate deliberately) 
 Speed it up! (Exit into barn) 
 
 Woodrow. I am speedin' ! (flE enters rzoz-Tr M'. 
 closes gate then exits calling very listlessly, in con- 
 trast to Smith's calling — ''Chick, chick, chick, 
 chick!'' As he goes off third run-wav) Chick! 
 Chick! Chick! Chick! 
 
 (HE can be heard calling chickens, off 1.. about 
 fifteen seconds. Re-enter Smith from baryi 
 dragging a chicken crate behind him. HE 
 
7^ WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 rushes down to lower run-way, slams crate on 
 ground, then rushes to l. 4 and puts hands to 
 mouth like megaphone.) 
 
 Smith. {As loud as he can yell) Hey \ This is a 
 rush order from New York! Move! {Dashes into 
 barn and exits l. Jennie Brown appears at R. 4 e. 
 SHE wears pretty traveling suit and a neat summer 
 hat and carries a parasol. Pauses a moment, then 
 enters and, advancing a few steps, stops and sur- 
 veys the barnyard. SHE is very happy because she 
 thinks Smith is enjoying his rest here on the farm 
 and also because she likes him. SHE has just 
 arr'wed from South America and come direct from 
 the dock to the farm. Re-enter Smith from barn, 
 a chicken crate on each shoulder. HE hastens dozvn 
 to second run-way, drops the crates in front of it. 
 then, jerking out watch, stares at it. Jennie mean- 
 ivhile has been gazing at him as if completely dumb- 
 founded. SHE thought he was resting and here he 
 is hurrying itforse than ever. Smith, exasperated 
 at lateness of the hour — staring at watch) My God ! 
 ( Throzvs back head and, loudly, as if trying to make 
 the tvhole ivorld hear) Hurry! 
 
 {HE starts tozvards barn door on a gallop — Jennie 
 holds out her parasol, like a flagman stopping a 
 train. Smith halts abruptly. HE is so sur- 
 prised he can't speak — just stares at her.) 
 
 Jennie. 1 thought you came over here to rest. 
 
 Smith. I am resting. {HE sees the pile of 
 clover which \\''oodrow dropped, rushes to it, grabs 
 it up in both arms, dashes to run-tiray, hurls it over 
 fence into run-zvay — then rushes back to Jennie 
 rapidly and enthusiastically as he seizes her hand 
 and shakes it) Golly, but it's good to see you! 
 
 Jennie. {Pleasantly) Have you been resting that 
 way ever since I went to South America? 
 
 Smith. No. The first two weeks T did nothing 
 
WHAT'S WRONC;. 79 
 
 but wnte letters— to you. 1 wrote three and four 
 a day, and long ones, too. Weren't they? 
 
 Jennie. Yes, and very mteresting. 
 
 Smith. Say, but you're lookmg finel 
 
 Jennie. For a while, they came in bundles on 
 every steamer. . 
 
 Smith. (Adminng her) You know id just 
 about forgotten how you looked. 
 
 Jennie. Suddenly they didn't come at all Were 
 
 vou ilir ' ^ ^ 
 
 Smith. When did you get back— to-day r 
 Jennie. Yes. IVere you ill? 
 
 Smith. Why didn't you let me know you were 
 coming? Woodrow could have met you at the 
 village and brought you out. 
 
 Jennie. {Smiling and zvitPi a touch of sympathy) 
 Well, I knew that you came here to rest, so T didn't 
 want to disturb you. 
 
 Smith. No disturbance at all. You should have 
 told me when you were coming. 
 
 Jennie. To be honest with you, I did tell you. 
 
 Smith. {Piisded) You did? 
 
 Jennie. Yes! 
 
 Smith. When? 
 
 Jennie. In my last three letters. Didn t you 
 receive them? 
 
 Smith. Yes, hvX— {Pauses) 
 
 Jennie. But what? ^ 
 
 Smith. I'm ashamed to admit it, but I haven t 
 read your last three letters. 
 
 Jennie. {Surprised, hut quietly, her feelings 
 deeply hurt) You— you haven't ? 
 
 Smith. {Apologetic) It wasn't because I didn't 
 want to read them. Really it wasn't! 
 
 Jennie. {As if censuring herself) I suppose 1 
 should have written them on a typewriter. 
 
 Smith. That wasn't it. I could read them all 
 right. At first I read every letter you wrote. They 
 Yv^rv wonderful! (Jennie smiles d roily) Really 
 
^o WHAT'S WRONG. ' ] 
 
 they were. ]f I'd kept on reading those letters Vd \ 
 
 fallen in love with you. j 
 
 Jennie. Was that why you stopped? 
 
 Smith. Not at all! Not at all! But you see it [ 
 
 just happened that lately whenever your letters j 
 
 arri\ ed, the incubators were hatching- and when the ; 
 
 incubators hatch, I have absolutely no time for any- i 
 
 thing but chickies. i 
 
 Jennie. (Puzi^led) Chickies? ; 
 
 Smith. [Explaining rapidly) Yes— little ; 
 
 chickens, l)aby chickens — chickens de luxe. \Vhen j 
 
 they start to come out of the shell, I'm up there j 
 
 every minute {Pointiny at barn-loft) to see that j 
 
 none of those downy little fellows get scorched. ( 
 
 And believe me, when one thousand eggs are j 
 
 simultaneously turning into one thousand chickies, j 
 
 it keeps me busy. Busy ! ' 
 
 Jennie. I wondered why you had almost for- \ 
 gotten how I looked. 
 
 Smith. {Puzizled) W' hat do you mean? ; 
 
 Jennie. Chickies were probably coming the day , 
 
 my photograph arrived. \ 
 
 Smith. (Surprised) Did you — (Telephone rings. ' 
 
 Smitfi dashes to barn, grabs 'phone and during the \ 
 
 following comes rapidly dozvn to Jennie and paces \ 
 
 back and forth in front of her. Jennie has to keep i 
 
 stepping over the wire to prevent getting tangled up ' 
 
 in it. Smith talks rapidly and intensely) Hello! — ■ 
 
 Yes — Squabs? I've got the best squabs that ever s 
 
 came out of an egg or went into an oven — Five a ; 
 
 dozen and milk-fed — Yes, sir! Milk-fed! — Ten • 
 
 dozen? They'll be there to-night. — Yes, sir — milk- j 
 
 fed. .Vbsolutely! (Hanging up recei^rr) W^ood- i 
 
 row ! ; 
 
 WooDRow. (Off L.) Yep! 
 
 Smith. Give the squabs some more water! : 
 
 (Dashes to barn and replaces 'phone on shelf) i 
 
 Jennie. I'm afraid this place isn't doing you j 
 much good, after all. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 8i 
 
 Smith. (Coming down) Oh, yes it is. There's a 
 l)ig chance here to make a lot of easy money and I 
 love the quiet life — Listen — (Stops in front of her) 
 Tlie poultry business in this country is a gold mine. 
 One good htalthy egg costs a nickel. Shove it into 
 an incubator and out comes a chickie. Give him a 
 little grain, a little grass, a little exercise and lots of 
 water, and the first thing you know he's ready for 
 New York. If he's a rooster, sell him. If he's a 
 hen keep him. Either way you make a clear profit 
 of approximately six thousand per cent. Doesn't 
 that sound like a gold mine? 
 
 Jennie. Yes, but it isn't. 
 
 Smith. Why not? 
 
 Jennie. Do all your eggs turn into chickies? 
 
 Smith. No, but 
 
 Jennie. Do all your chickies live? 
 
 Smith. No, but 
 
 Jennie. Do they buy their own food? 
 
 Smith. No, but 
 
 Jennie. Do they build their own houses? 
 
 Smith. No, but 
 
 Jennie. When the roosters are old enough to go 
 to New York, do they pay their own railroad fare 
 or do you pay it for them? 
 
 Smith. I pay it, but 
 
 Jennie. And if you send all your roosters to 
 New York will all your eggs hatch ? 
 
 Smith. No, but 
 
 Jennie. And don't you consider your own time 
 worth anything? 
 
 Smith. Yes, but 
 
 Jennie. Then I don't quite understand how you 
 are going to make a clear profit of even six hundred 
 per cent. 
 
 Smith. Well, you see 
 
 Jennie. We used to raise chickens and w^e did 
 well if we broke even. 
 
82 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Smith. Yes, but you didn't go into it as a profes- 
 sion. 
 
 Jennie. Happily, no. 
 
 Smith. Do you consider it a disgrace to raise 
 chickens? 
 
 Jennie. Certainly not — but don't you consider it 
 unfortunate for a splendid specimen of manhood to 
 enter into direct competition with a setting hen? 
 (Starts toward ktchen steps) 
 
 Smith. Where're you going? 
 
 Jennie. As I came up the road a few minutes 
 ago, I met a Mrs. Snow. I am going to get your 
 breakfast. (Starts again) 
 
 Smith. (Follozving her) Never mind my break- 
 fast! 
 
 (Jennie stops and faces him. He pauses.) 
 
 Jennie. You came to this farm to rest and eat 
 three square meals a day. 
 
 Smith. I know it, but 
 
 Jennie. When your breakfast is ready, I shall 
 call you. (Goes towards kitchen steps, Smith 
 watching her) 
 
 (Enter Perry Dodge l. 4, fanning himself. ) 
 
 Perry. (Surprised to -see Jennie) Well, well, 
 well! (Going tozvard her) When did you leave 
 South America? 
 
 Jennie. Shortly after Mr. Smith married his 
 incubators. (As Perry shakes hands with her) 
 And it's a good thing I did. Mr. Smith hasn't had 
 anything to eat since yesterday. 
 
 Perry. He's too busy. 
 
 Jennii-:. (Drolly) Resting. (Smiles at Smith, 
 then goes to kitchen steps — up them and is opening 
 kitchen door when — ) 
 
 Perry. Just a moment, Miss Brown. (She closes 
 
WIdAT'S WRONG. 83 
 
 the door) W'q have some good news for yoit. 
 Haven't we George? 
 
 Smith. (As he jerks out watch) Yes, but keep 
 it a while — I want you to see my new incubators. 
 (Grabs Perry by the arm and starts toward barn 
 door) Come on! Hurry! 
 
 Perry. (Glancing back at Jennie as Smith pulls 
 him along) I'll see you later. 
 
 Jennie. I hope so. (Exit Smith and Perry 
 into barn. Enter Woodrow, third run-zvay, carry- 
 ing wheat bucket. Jennie, about to exit into 
 kitchen, looks at him a moment and he, about to 
 open run-way gate, peeps at her through the gate. 
 He is surprised and curious. She is amused. 
 Pleasantly) Are you Mr. Smith's hired man? 
 
 Woodrow. (Bashfully) Yes — one of 'em. 
 
 Jennie. (Going toward him as he opens the gate) 
 Then I suppose we might as well introduce our- 
 selves. 
 
 WooDRov^. Yes'm. 
 
 Jennie. My name is Brown, What is yours? 
 
 Woodrow. \\^oodrow. 
 
 [en^;ie. I am glad to meet you, W^oodrow. 
 (Offering him her hand) 
 
 \V()ODROW. 'Scuse me. (He sets the bucket 
 down. Wipes palm of hand on overalls, to clean it, 
 then puts it in Jennie's) 
 
 Jennie. (As she shakes Woodrow's hand) We're 
 going to be good friends, aren't we, Woodrow? 
 
 Woodrow. (Trying not to be bashful) Yes'm — ■ 
 Fm willin'. 
 
 Jennie. (Smiling, and laying her hand on his 
 shoulder) Now Woodrow, I'm going to remain on 
 this farm indefinitely and we must do everything 
 we can to make life easy for Mr. Smith. He came 
 here to rest. 
 
 WoODROw. (Drily) Did he? (Feels of his nose, 
 tenderly) 
 
 Jennie. Yes. He gets in a hurry sometimes — • 
 
84 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 maybe you haven't noticed it yet — but be has a big" 
 heart — and lie means welL 
 
 WooDROW. (Caressing his nose) Yes'm. {Tilt- 
 ing his face up somewhat) W^ill you see please if 
 that there stinger's still in my nose? 
 
 Jennie. Certainly. (As she looks for stinger) 
 Woodrow, there is a great future ahead of you. 
 
 WooDROw. (Deeply interested) Is there? 
 
 Jennie. Most assuredly. (Quite gravely) With 
 a nose like this, if you don't lose your health or go 
 to college, you will succeed in everything vou under- 
 take. 
 
 Woodrow. Honestly? 
 
 Jennie. Yes. But if you do go to college and 
 lose your health, you'll probably wind up by being 
 a playwright— or a critic. 
 
 Woodrow. (Dead serious) Am T goin' to get 
 married ? 
 
 Jennie. Possibly. 
 
 Woodrow. When ? 
 
 Jennie. That depends — but basing my deduc- 
 tions upon the shape and size of your nose I can 
 say with a reasonable degree of accuracy that the 
 marriage ceremony will not occur in the immediate 
 future. 
 
 Woodrow. (Disappointed) Shoot! 
 
 (Smith appears at hay-loft door, stares at thcui a 
 moment.) 
 
 Smith. (Annoyed) Woodrow! 
 
 Woodrow. (Nasally — Jennie is examining his 
 nose) Yes. 
 
 Smith. (As Jennie lets go of Woodrow's nose) 
 Do you call that getting chickens into their coops? 
 
 Woodrow. No, but can't a feller take time to 
 have his fortune told? 
 
 Smith. Not when he's working for me! Huny! 
 
 Woodrow. (Meekly) Yes, sir. (Picks up bucket 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 85 
 
 iind hastens to fourth run-way gate. Smith dis- 
 appears from hay-loft door and Jennie starts to- 
 ward kitchen steps. At run-way gate Woodrow 
 stops, glances at barn, then, confidentially at 
 Jennie) Brown! 
 
 Jennie. (Stopping and smiling at him) Yes. 
 
 \^'ooDROW. What's yer first name? 
 
 Jennie. Jennie. 
 
 Woodrow. Thanks, Jennie. Gee, but you're 
 ■j)urty ! 
 
 ( E:\'it Woodrow, fourth run-way. He exits back- 
 wards, smiling at Jennie and caressing his nose 
 proudh. Re-enter Perry froin barn.) 
 
 Perry. The world's champion time sa\ er'll be out 
 here in a minute, so Fll have to talk fast. 
 
 Jennie. (Drolly) Rut talk distinctly. This is the 
 i^ood news, isn't it? 
 
 Perry. Yes. We are moving to Seattle to- 
 morrow and my wife wants you to come out there 
 and live with us. 
 
 Jennie. (Drily) In Seattle? 
 
 PiTRRY. Yes. I can give you a good position as 
 iny 
 
 Jennie. That is very sweet of Mrs. Dodge, and 
 you — and I know T would enjoy it but — (Pauses, 
 then smiles and shakes head) No. It's out of the 
 question. 
 
 Perry. Why? You have no relatives in New 
 |York. 
 
 Jennie. No — but that isn't it. 
 
 Pekkv. Don't you think you would he happy with 
 us ? 
 
 Jennie. I'm sure I would — but that isn't it. 
 
 PivRRV. Then what is " it?" 
 
 Jennie. Mr. Smith. 
 
 'P|■l^M^^■. ( )h, that's all right. He's willing for you 
 to go. 
 
H6 WHArS WRONG, '^i 
 
 Jennie. He may act like it but he isn't. | 
 
 Perry. Yes, he is. He has already consented, 
 
 Jennie. Consented to what? 
 
 Perry. To let you go with us. 
 
 Jennie. (Drollx) Did Mr. Smith use the word « 
 
 " let ? " ' : 
 
 Perry. Practically, yes. ": 
 
 Jennie. What was the provocation? I 
 
 Perry. Why, I told him my wife wanted you to j 
 
 come to Seattle with us and asked him if he was j 
 
 willing, 
 
 Jennie. And he said — ? , 
 
 Perry. " Certainly! " He said: " Vm going out j 
 
 of the land business into the chicken business. Take | 
 
 her. I don't need her any longer." ; 
 
 Jennie. {Slozifly — she is hurt but tries to conceal i 
 
 // — ineffectually, however') Did Mr. Smith say that j 
 
 he didn't need me any longer? Did he? i 
 
 Perry. Yes. {After a slight pause) \ 
 
 Jennie. {Satirically yet zvith a pathetic little '■ 
 
 smile) He is very fond of his chickens, isn't he? 
 Perry. {He is beginning to wonder if she is at- ] 
 
 tached to Smith, confidentially) Say — do — do you i 
 
 Uke him? \ 
 
 Jennie. {Onietly and matter of fact -after a . 
 
 slight pause) I feel sorry for him. i 
 
 Perry. Was that why you volunteered to be his j 
 
 stenographer ? 1 
 
 Jennie. Yes. j 
 
 Perry. And went to Argentine for him? j 
 
 Jennie. Yes. ; 
 
 Perry. And induced him to come over here : 
 
 and I 
 
 Jennie. {Drolly) Relax. 
 
 Perry. Are you sure it isn't something more 
 than just " feeling sorry" for him? 
 
 Jennie. I want to help him, if that's what you 
 mean. 
 
 Perry. (Significantly) Why? 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 87 
 
 ( Pause — J EN Ni K, thinking. ) 
 
 fENNiE. {After a slight pause — quietly hut zvith 
 smcerity) He's such a helpless creature. He mak js 
 me think of father 
 
 Perry. And so you want to help him. 
 
 Jennie. Don't you? 
 
 Perry. Yes, but do you think that you or any- 
 one else can ever make George go slow? Honestly 
 now — do you? 
 
 [ennie. (Significantly — after short pause) Not 
 if he doesn't want me to. (Starts up steps slowly) 
 
 Perry. But even if he did want you to? 
 
 Jennie. (Pausing at top of steps and glancing at 
 Perry zvith a forced little smile. Her hand on door 
 knob) Tell Mrs. Dodge that I will go. 
 
 Perry. (As Jennie opens door) Good! Our 
 train leaves the Pennsylvania Station eleven o'clock 
 to-morrow morning. 
 
 Jennie. Thank you. (/ zvill he there.) 
 
 J^ERRY. (As Jennie is about to exit) Now^ if you 
 would rather not go, Miss Jennie 
 
 Jennie. But 1 want to go! I've always wanted 
 to see the — (With a faint attempt at a smile) the 
 l)etter half of America. 
 
 Perry. (Pleased) That's the way to talk. The 
 wonderful West — where nobody is in too much of a 
 hurry to enjoy life. 
 
 (Re-enter Smith from barn. He carries a crate, by 
 its rope handles, in front of him. Upon this 
 crate are stacked four more crates. As he 
 enters, slowly and almost staggering under the 
 load, all that can be seen of Smith from the 
 front are his hands and the lower part of his 
 legs. Perry glances at the crates, then at the 
 legs. He cannot see Smith's body. The pile 
 of crates begins to wabble someziihat and Smith 
 stops to steady them so as to keep the top crates 
 
88 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 from falling off. Jennie looks at Smith, 
 shakes her head and exits into house. Enter 
 " Heavy," " Red " and Bill — farm hands, l. 4 
 E. They shamble in, lazily and sidlenly. 
 " Heavy " is a he^vy set. pugnacious fellow, 
 thirty years old. Has a four days' growth of 
 beard and looks like a welter-zveight prize 
 fighter. He wears old brown overalls— the kind 
 truck-drivers wear — and an old black sateen 
 shirt, and an old brozvn derby hat. ** Red " is 
 tall, lean, homely, awkward, red-faced and red- 
 headed. Same age as Heavy but taller. J V ears 
 old blue overalls, a z'cry dirty white shirt with 
 collar band but no collar, and an old small 
 brimmed straw hat. Bell is a zviry, rat-like 
 cuss, somewhat shorter than Heavy. Smooth- 
 shaven and rather neat in appearance but mean, 
 cynical, vicious and cozvardly. Has sharp 
 features and a small shifty eye. Wears black 
 trousers, glossy with age but rather clean; a 
 black sateen shirt with soft collar and red tie, 
 and a black mechanic's cap. Red and Bill 
 watch Smith disgustedly but Heavy gazvks at 
 Perry — doesn't take eyes off of him. Perry 
 gazes curiously and somezvhat comically at the 
 stock of wabbling crates — looks at r. then at l. 
 of Sm[th, then to Smith — drolly.) 
 
 Plrry. I can't see your face, George, but good- 
 ])ye just the same. (Starts toivards r. 4 e.) 
 
 Smith. (Impetuously) Wait a minute. 
 
 Perry. 1 can't. I've got to catch the noon train. 
 
 Smith. (Mechanically. His mind is on the wab- 
 bling crates which he is trying to balance) All 
 rght. Success to you in Seattle and remember me 
 to Marjorie. 
 
 { The crates topple fortvard and fall with a crash, 
 barely missing Heavy Red and Bill. Smith 
 sees them for the first time.) 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 89 
 
 Smith. Fill those with forty dozen broilers just 
 as quick as you can ! 
 
 Heavy. {With a /a^y grin and an aggravatliuj 
 irresponsibility) All right. 
 
 (Shambles toward run-way gates, Bill and Red fol- 
 lowing lazily.) 
 
 Perry. {Coming toward Smith to shake hands) 
 Good-bye, George. 
 
 (Heavy stops and gawks at Perry.) 
 
 Smith. Good-bye. {Rushes to him, seizes his 
 hand and shakes it rapidly as he leads him toward 
 R. 4 E.) Safe journey — {Now at R. 4 e., and with 
 real feeling) and God bless you I You're making a 
 ])ig mistake lea\ ing New York, but God bless you! 
 {Shoves him and exit Perry, r. 4 e. Then quickly 
 to the men) Hurry! (Rushes toward them) All 
 you have to do is to take the chickens out of the 
 coops and pack 'em in the crates. (Calls) Wood- 
 row! (To men) Move! 
 
 (Heavy stops and faces him.) 
 
 Heavy. (Pugnaciously) Now wait a minute! 
 We'll fill them crates, but we're goin' to take our 
 time. 
 
 Smith. Those chickens have got to take the three 
 o'clock express ! 
 
 Heavy. (As before) I said we'd fill 'em, but 
 \\ c don't propose to get sun-struck doin' it. (To 
 l\i-.i) and Rill) Eh, boys? 
 
 .-MTK. All right! Just hurry! (Heavy 
 shambles to third runway gate. Bill to second run- 
 way gate and Red to first runway gate. As the 
 men go to the gates, facing L. he shouts) Wood- 
 row ! 
 
90 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 W'ooDROw. (Lamly, off 1..) Yep! 
 Smith. Come here! Quick! 
 
 (Heavy, Bill and Red, meanwhile have picked up 
 one crate apiece and are nozv entering the run- 
 zvays, deliberately.) 
 
 Smith. (Pretending to joke) Move, boys! For 
 heaven's sake, move ! Just play there's a reward of 
 $5000 for your capture and William J. Burns is 
 only a block away. (The three men glance at him, 
 simultaneously and resentfully) 
 
 Heavy. (Eyeing Smith) Do you know this is 
 th' hottest day in the year? 
 
 Smith. I'll take your word for it, but 
 
 (Jennie appears at the zvindozv. She has removed 
 her jacket and her hat and looks very pretty 
 and domestic.) 
 
 Jennie. (Pleasantly^ from zvindow) Mr. Smith. 
 (The Men look up at her) 
 
 Smith. (Peevishly) Yes, yes 
 
 Jennie. (Kindly but quite formally) How do 
 you prefer your eggs? 
 
 (Re-enter Woodrow, third runway, carrying the 
 wheat bucket.) 
 
 WooDROW. (Listlessly, as he enters) What 
 d'you want? 
 
 Smith. (7^0 Woodrow) What the thunder have 
 you been doing — playing tiddly-winks? 
 
 Jennie. Mr. Smith — your eggs. 
 
 Smith. Scramble 'em — both sides — anyway. 
 (Jennie zvithdraws from windozv) 
 
 Woodrow. (Big-eyed — zvith surprise) Gee! Is 
 she another cook ! 
 
 Smith. No! Feed the squabs and get ready to 
 
W HAT'S WRONG. 91 
 
 crate them, {llic Mi:^ who have eyed Jennie with 
 curiosity, stand looking tozvards the window. 
 Smith turns on them) Hurry! (Heavy grins and 
 begins to whistle a popular song, lazily. Red and 
 Bile begin to whistle it, too, and the three Men 
 rxtt, off runzvays. Eyeing them, angrily) Well, 
 I '11 be (Angrily ) Woodrow ! 
 
 W uuDROvv. (Nozv at pigeon coop, r. of barn- 
 door) Yep. 
 
 Smith. {Hurrying tozvards him) Water the 
 s(|uabs ! 
 
 WooDRuw. You just said 
 
 Smith. Quick! (Begins throwing wheat into 
 pigeon coop as W'oodrow runs off Ti. 4.) 
 
 ( Many squabs come from inside tJie barn to feed. 
 The coop is soon filled zvith pigeons and squabs. 
 Re-enter " Heavy," third runway.) 
 
 Smith. (From doorway, to Heavy) I thought 
 1 told you to crate those broilers ! 
 
 Hfavv. (Sullenly) You did, but I got-a-get a 
 sack to carry 'em from the coops to th' crates. 
 
 Smith. (Impatiently) Crate them in the coops. 
 
 Heavy. All right! Rut it'll take twice as long. 
 {Re-enters ninzvay) 
 
 Smith. It won't if you hurry. (Heavy stops 
 and looks at Smith, now at third runway gate. 
 E.rasperated) Now what's the matter? 
 
 Heavy. {Pugnaciously and coming toward 
 Smith) I'm not goin'-a do a day's work in ten 
 minutes. See? (He is 'now face to face with 
 .Smith ) You've been working Hell out of us! 
 
 Smith. You haven't worked any harder than 
 1 have ! 
 
 Heavn. That's your fault, — not ours. 
 
 Smith. (Angrily) How much do I owe you? 
 
 Hea\y. Twentv-four dollars. 
 
92 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 (Smith jerks pocket book from overalls and jerks 
 hills from pocket book, counts them rapidly.) 
 
 Smith. {Shoving bills at Heavy) Twenty- 
 four! (Heavy grins and takes money) Now you 
 get off this farm the quickest you ever did anythino^ 
 in your life! (Re-enter Bill, in 2nd riin-zvay) 
 
 Heavy. (Flippantly, as he folds up bills, de- 
 liberately) I got you, Steve! (Starts towards k. 
 
 4 E.) " ' 
 
 Bill. (Coming through runway gate) Quittin', 
 Heavy? (Heavy stops) 
 
 Smith. (Emphatically, to Bill) What do you 
 want? (Bill ignores Smith as he sees Heavy start 
 toward r. 4 e. ) 
 
 Bill. Quittin'? 
 
 Heavy. (Grinning, over shoulder, hut not stop- 
 ping) Tired. 
 
 Bill. Wait an' I'll go with you. 
 
 Smith. You will not. (Bill glares at Smith. 
 ''Heavy'' stops) 
 
 Bill. (Viciously) Give me my money and give 
 it quick. 
 
 Smith. (Kindly — trying to reason 7vith him) 
 Now look here, Bill 
 
 Bill. All I want out of you is my money. 
 (Shoves out his hand, palm up. Smith jerks pocket 
 book from pocket and begins to take bills from it) 
 
 Heavy. (Hands to mouth, like megaphone — 
 loudly, toward first run7vay) Red! Oh, Red! 
 
 Smith. Stop that! 
 
 Heavy. (Pugnaciously insolent) You ain't th' 
 guy that can make me stop it! (Calling as before) 
 Come on, Red ! 
 
 Smith. (Shoving money at Bill) Here's your 
 pay! Now get! Both of you! (Gives Bill a 
 shove toward R. 4 e. ) 
 
 Heavy. (Szvaggering slozvly but viciously, to- 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 93 
 
 ward Smith — fists clenched — to Bill) Shall I 
 bust his jaw? 
 
 ( Enter Red. first run-way.) 
 
 Red. What's th' matter? 
 
 Smith. Nothing! These fellows got fresh and 
 I fired them, but if you'll stay I'll double your 
 wages and — {He is nmv face to face with Red, tvho 
 stands in gateway) 
 
 Red. (Insolently) I ain't talkin' to you. 
 f Brushes him aside and starts towards Heavy and 
 Rill) What's th' matter, boys? 
 
 Smith. (Persiiasii'ely) Now look here. Red — 
 I've always done the right thing by you, haven't I? 
 Stay and help me out. I need you! I've got all 
 this trouble with the boys — and there's a woman 
 threatening to send the Sheriff here to arrest me 
 because I didn't tie a calf to suit her. (Woodrow^ 
 enters r. 4, hic/(/ing a big bucket of water) Wood- 
 row : would you know the Sheriff if you saw him? 
 
 WooD^ow. Sure. He's Heavy's big brother. 
 { Puts bucket in front of r. pigeon coop and goes in- 
 to barn) 
 
 Smith. (He sees his finish) Oh! — (The grin 
 on He.av^-'s face bodes Smith no good. All the 
 ^Ien eye each other — enjoying it. To Red) If 
 you'll stay 
 
 \\K\). (Briefly) Nothing doin' ! I quit. 
 
 Smith. \\'ell, if that's the kind of man you are, 
 goon! (ioon! (fin raged — /o Red) What're you 
 waiting for? 
 
 Red. (Calmly) Two weeks' wages. (Smith 
 jerks out pocket book and opens if. ft is empty) 
 
 Smith. Come around to-morrow. 
 
 Red. 1 want it now. 
 
 Smith. I haven't got it. 
 
 Red. Get it. (Smith runs to kitchen window) 
 
 Smith. [At zvindow) Miss Brown! Miss 
 ]^)rown ! 
 
94 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Jennie. {From within the house) Yes? 
 
 Smith. Fetch my check book — coat pocket. 
 
 Red. (Sullenly) I don't want no check — I wanf 
 the cash. 
 
 Smith. (Going toward him) I tell you I haven't 
 the cash. 
 
 Jennie. (Appears at the window. Pleasantly) 
 How much cash do you need, Mr. Smith? 
 
 Smith. (All business, no sentiment) Twenty- 
 four dollars. Have you got it? 
 
 Jennie. No, but I can give you my check. 
 
 Red. {Tipping his hat to Jennie with admira- 
 tion) All right, Miss, I'll take your check. 
 
 Jennie. (Sweetly) Thank you. (Withdraws 
 from the window) 
 
 Smith. (Sees the men grinning — savagely) Grin, 
 damn you! (He rolls up his shirt sleeves) I'll 
 show you how to work ! I'll crate every chicken 
 myself ! 
 
 Heavy. Hop to it, old cock ! 
 
 (Smith dashes to second run-way gate, seiaes a 
 crate, dashes through gate and runs off. As he 
 exits Jennie reappears at windozv, check hook 
 and fountain pen in hand. She opens the check 
 book, places it on windozv sill. ) 
 
 Jennie. (Pleasantly, to Red) Did Mr. Smith 
 say twenty-four dollars? 
 
 Red. (Humbly) Yes, ma'am. (Removes hat 
 awkardly — all remove hats) 
 
 Jennie. (Dates the check) Your name, please? 
 
 Red. (Almost meekly) Morgan. 
 
 Jennie. (As she ivrites name in check) Initials? 
 
 Red. J. R 
 
 Jennie. Thank you. (She writes the amount, 
 then tears check from book. Red, who has been go- 
 ing toivard her slowly, is now near the window and 
 extends hand for check. Jennie gives it to him) 
 
 Red. Thank you, ma'am. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 95 
 
 JenniI'.. Yon are welcome, Mr. Morgan. {She 
 zvith draws from the wii!do7v) 
 
 (The Men glance at each other, then at the zvindow, 
 then they begin to primp, as if intent upon mak- 
 ing the best impression possible. They brush 
 the dust off their clothes, then remove their 
 hats and .clean them carefully with their sleeves. 
 WooDROW, entering from barn zvith big dipper 
 in hand, sees the farm hands, takes off his oivn 
 hat, shoves handle of dipper in his hip pocket, 
 and begins to wipe his hat importantiy. \yooD- 
 Row joins them importantly, the dipper in his 
 hip pocket sticks up like the tail of a fighting 
 cock.) 
 
 Heavy. {Admiringly, as he glances at window) 
 Some pullet 1 (Then, to Bile) Eh, boh? 
 
 Bill. ( Agreeing heartily) Hell, yes! 
 
 Red. H'I had a girl like that to cook eggs for 
 nie I'd be willin' to eat cuckoo eggs. Eat 'em raw. 
 
 WooDROW. (Proudly) I'm goin' to marry her 
 some day! Gee, but she's purtyl (Going to wnn- 
 dow and tries to peek in) 
 
 Heavy. (Who has been keeping a close eye on 
 house) Ctit it! Here she comes. (Everybody be- 
 gins to primp) 
 
 { Re-enter Jennie from house. She comes down the 
 steps and towards Men.) 
 
 I EN NIE. Will you gentlemen please do me a little 
 
 favor? • i n-1 
 
 The Men. (Simultaneously) Sure! (They 
 
 face her) 
 
 [ennie. (Glances off l., then goes to the men. 
 Somewhat confidential) When you leave, don't go 
 
 far away. 
 
 Heavy. (Not understanding) Come agam ! 
 
96 WHAT'S WRONG, 
 
 Jennie. When you gentlemen leave, please don^t 
 go far away. {Smiling at them) I may need you. 
 
 Red. {Reassuringly, as she hands him the check) 
 li you do, call me. 
 
 Bill. Sure 1 ITe won't let him hart you. 
 
 Jennie. Oh, I'm not afraid of his hurting me 
 but if you men were within call 
 
 Heavy. Excuse me, Miss, but you ain't his 
 sister? 
 
 Jennie. No! 
 
 Red. Nor his cousin? 
 
 Jennie. No! 
 
 Heavy. [IViseiy) We git you! {Starts to- 
 zvards r. 4) Come on, boys! (Red and Bill fol- 
 low Heavy to r. 4) 
 
 WooDRow. I'll be right there waterin' the squabs 
 — {Pointing) If you need me — {Is interrupted by 
 Heavy) 
 
 Heavy. {At r. 4. Confidentially to Jennie) 
 We'll be hangin' out on th' shady side o' th' house, 
 Miss. If that guy gets fresh wath you, scream. 
 M^e'll do th' rest. 
 
 Jennie. {Pleasantly) Thank you. 
 
 Heavy. {Gruffly, though meaning to be polite) 
 Don't mention it. It'll be a pleasure. 
 
 Smith. {Off u) Open the gate! 
 
 (Heavy starts pugilisticfiliy towards gate. ) 
 
 Jennie. Don't. {He stops) I'll open it. {In- 
 dicating K. 4) If I need you, I'll call. 
 
 Heavy. Don't call— scream. That's all — jus' 
 scream. 
 
 Jennie. All right — listen. 
 
 {Exit Bill. Red and Heavy, r. 4 e. Woodrow goes 
 to water bucket. Jennie meanzvhile, hastens 
 to second runzvay gate. As she opens the 
 gate — ) 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 97 
 
 Smith. (I'cry loudly and very angrily— im- 
 mediately off) Open that gate. 
 
 Jennie. It is open. (Many frightened chickens- 
 squawk immediately off l. Enter Smith, second 
 run-zvay, hopping backzvards and dragging in front 
 of himself a crate filled with squawking chickens 
 At run-way gate, he pauses to breathe. As he pauses 
 at the run-way gate) Can't I help you? (Smith 
 yanks the crate through the gate and drops end 
 noisily) 
 
 Smith. {So busy that he doesn't know what he 
 IS saying) Yes— nail down that cover— (Indicating 
 lid of crate) and put on a shipping tag! (Then 
 loudly) Wood row! 
 
 WooDmw. (Who is about to pour zvater in 
 pigeon coop trough) Yep! 
 
 Smith. Hitch up the horse. While I pack the 
 crates you and Miss Brown can load 'em into the 
 wagon. Hurry ! 
 
 WooDRow. All right. ( Tosses dipper into bucket 
 and hastens toward l. 4) 
 
 ^ Smith. (Exit Woodrow, l. 4, at full speed. 
 Smith dashes dozvn to second runzvay and seizes 
 an empty crate) 
 
 Jennie. (On her mettle) Be reasonable, Mr. 
 Smith — (Smith slings a crate on his shoulder and 
 is about to enter run-way) You can't crate forty 
 dozen chickens alone before three o'clock! Call 
 back your men! (Smith drops the crate) 
 
 Smith. (Emphatically) I'm running this farm, 
 Miss Brown. 
 
 Jennie. (With a pathetic little smile) I beg 
 your pardon. 
 
 Woodrow. (Immediately off rear and greatly 
 frightened) Mr. Smith ! Mr. Smith ! (Woodrow 
 rushes in, l. 4 e. ) Oh ! Mr. Smith ! 
 Smith. What is it? 
 
 Woodrow. (Breathless with excitement) She 
 
 she's dead! 
 
gg WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Smith. {Quickly) Who? 
 WooDROW. Rosebud ! 
 JENNIE. Who? 
 WooDROW. Rosebud— the calf! 
 
 (Smith rushes off l. 4 f^- Woodrow ro^-rr.^ eyes 
 unth arm, to, hide the tears.) 
 
 Tennif {Sympathetically, as she goes up to 
 WOODROW who' is near l. 4 e-) ^^on't cry. (/ ats 
 him gently on shoulder) 
 
 W^ooDROW. {Rubbing eyes with fists You d 
 cry, too, if you'd knew her as long as I did. {Blub^ 
 ber^ The calf blats loudly and prolongedly, ojf 
 stacie WooDROW stops crying instantly and stares 
 aUENNiE He thinks it is the calfs ghost umlmg 
 . and he is 'dumb zvith terror. Woodrow horrified ) 
 Do— do calfs have ghosts.^ 
 
 {Re-enter Smith, l. 4 e.) 
 
 Jennie. {To Smith) What was the matter 
 
 "^'smith It got loose awhile ago and in my haste 
 to tie it so that it couldn't get away agam, 1 tied a 
 slip-noose instead of a hard knot. 
 
 Jennie. Oh! The poor little thing. 
 
 Smith She's all right now I turned her loose. 
 (The telephone rings. He dashes to barn and series 
 \elephonl In telephone) Hello !- Wb at ?-DonJ 
 let it occur again ! {Rushing down to c^ate) Ca^^ed 
 by mistake! This kind of a day ! ^^h'. \\^h. 
 {Goes to bucket and drinks eagerly. Exit Wood- 
 
 ''jENNiK Really now, Mr. Smith-I wouldn't 
 drink so much 
 
 mc untcs his arm across his face to nih' "ffj^' 
 sweat, then rushes down seizes crate, throws! 
 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 99 
 
 it on shoulder and starts towards 2nd run- 
 way gate. Jennie shakes her head hopelessly 
 and starts toward the house. Arrived at gate, 
 Smith halts, begins to sway unsteadily back. 
 As Jennie glances back. Smith sinks limply to 
 the ground.) 
 
 Jennie. {Rushing to him) Mr. Smith! (Kneel- 
 ing beside him) Mr. Smith! (Calling) Wood- 
 row! \Voodrow ! Woodrow ! (She raises him to 
 sitting posture. Enter Woodrow, l. 4 e.) Water! 
 Get some water! (Woodrow dashes up to pail and 
 lugs it to Jennie. She pours some over her hand- 
 kerchief and lays it on Smith's forehead. Presently 
 Smith opens his eyes and gazes around as if dazed) 
 
 Smith. Wliat happened ? 
 
 Jennie. Sun stroke. 
 
 Smith. Where am I ? 
 
 [ennie. This time you are here — on your farm 
 — {To Woodrow) Pull the crate around for him 
 to lean against. (W^oodrow pulls the crate around) 
 Now get his hat. (Woodrow obeys quickly, zvhile 
 Jennie makes Smith comfortable against crate) 
 Bring my parasol— in the kitchen — please. (Wood- 
 row dashes up steps into house. Jennie seats her- 
 self on top of the crate against zvhich Smith is lean- 
 ing. She is on r. side of him. He is seated on the 
 ground. Jennie dampens the handkerchief again. 
 As Jennie places handkerchief gently on Smith's 
 forehead Smith listlessly and as if puzzled, con- 
 fused ) 
 
 Smith. What time is it? 
 
 Jennie. Time to rest. 
 
 Smith. (After a slight pause) Is it too late to 
 get the broilers off on the three o'clock? 
 
 Jennie. (Trying to quiet him) No. (Wood- 
 row re-enters and hastily hands her the parasol) 
 There! (She puts it over Smith) Woodrow, will 
 you please boil the tea kettle and get some ice. (Exit 
 
loo WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 WooDROW, Speedily into house. She turns to 
 Smith) Stay just where you are, 77/ get the 
 broilers off — (She screams. The scream is so forced 
 and artificial that it is ludicrous. She sits perfectly 
 quiet. Screaming loudly) O! O! O! O! O! O! 
 Smith. (Rising — frightened — solicitous but 
 somewhat wobbly) What's the matter? Are you 
 sunstruck, too ? 
 
 (As Jennie rises — Heavy, Red and Rill rush in 
 R. 4. They start tozvard Smith threateningly. 
 Heavy ahead of Red and Bill. Woodrow 
 pokes his head out of window.) 
 
 Heavy. {To Jennie, as if he tvere a big brother 
 defending a little sister who had been shamefully 
 zvronged) Did that guy get fresh with you? 
 
 Jennie. No. 
 
 Heavy. Then what'd you scream for? 
 
 Jennie. Because I needed you. 
 
 Red. (Eyeing Smith) Then he did get fresh 
 with you ! 
 
 Jennie. No honestly he didn't. I called you men 
 because Mr. Smith has been overcome by the heat. 
 (The Men glance unsympathetically at Mr. Smith, 
 as if the thought he had gotten zvhat zvas coming to 
 him. Woodrow, conzinccd that Jennie is safe, 
 withdrazvs from zvindozv) I knew that you would 
 be kind enough to help ME pack his broilers for 
 him. (The Men glance at Jknnik as if they were 
 not willing to pack them) 
 
 Bill. Not much ! 
 
 Jennie. You can pack them any way you like 
 and take all the time you want; hut— (Tact f idly) 
 if you do get them off on the three o'clock, I shall be 
 very grateful — and Mr. Smith will double your 
 wages for the day. AA'on't you gentlemen please 
 help him^ 
 
 Bill. (Turning azvay — about to leaz'c) A 
 ENNiE. Mr. Heavy: won't you? 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. lov 
 
 Heavy. (All for Jennie — to Bill) Go in th' 
 barn, an' get three gunny sacks. Red an' TH go on 
 to th' chicken coops. If you don't come out there 
 quick, I'll kill you. Git me? 
 
 (Bill looks at hrm for a moment and sees that 
 Heavy means business.) 
 
 Bill. (Meekly) Well, you don't have to get 
 sore about it. (Turns on heel and goes lastly to- 
 ward barn door) 
 
 Heavy. (Emphatically) Hurry! (Bill walks 
 rapidly to barn, into it and exits r. ) Come on, Red. 
 (Red starts towards rnnways) 
 
 Jennie. Thank you, Mr. Heavy, T had no idea 
 your brother was the Sheriff! I'd like to meet him. 
 Will vou introduce me? 
 
 Heavy. (On to her — qood-natnredl\) Never 
 mind— r// fix Ed ! 
 
 Smith. Now for heaven's sake — (He is about 
 to say " Hurry ") 
 
 Heavy. (Emphaticalh' to S^uth) She's bossin' 
 this job now. You keep out of it. Git me? 
 
 Smith. ( A rgum entatii'ely) Now you listen^ — • — 
 
 (Jennie pushes Smith back gently with her arm 
 and steps between him and Heavy. Then to 
 Heavy. ) 
 
 Jennie. He gets you. (Jennie continues to 
 smile at Heavy. Heavy gases at her, admiringly. 
 Rc-eutcr Bill, from barn. He has three large 
 gunny-sacks) 
 
 Heavy. (Emphatically, to Bill) Hurry! 
 
 (Bill runs dozen to Heavy aJid Red, ivho grab a 
 sack a piece. They exeunt — Heavy to first 
 run-zvay gate, Red to second and Bill to third. 
 There each grab a crate and run off, down run- 
 way. ) 
 
i02 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Jennte. (Smiling triumphantly, yet modestly, to 
 ^mith) See! Men will do anything for you so 
 long as you don't drive them. {For the first time 
 Smith realizes ivhat a zvonderful little zvoman she 
 really is and hozv much she means to him and has 
 meant to him all along. Woodrow has brought a 
 tin pan zvitli some pieces of ice in it. Jennie has 
 taken a piece — ivrapped it in her handkerchief. 
 Exit W'ooDRow- into kitchen. Jennie nozv holds 
 the ice to Smith's head) There! (Smith puts his 
 hand up and takes it. Pressing it to his forehead) 
 How do you feel now ? 
 
 Smith. (Disgusted with himself) I feel like 
 a fool. I am a fool, too — Everything I do I overdo. 
 
 Jennie. You talk as if that were a crime. 
 
 Smith. It is. 
 
 Jennie. Pardon the contradiction but you are 
 mistaken. vSit down — {He sits on crate) You are 
 much mistaken. Keep the ice on your forehead. 
 {He replaces ice. She picks up the parasol and 
 shades them both, as she sits beside him on crate) 
 Mr. Smith : you're suffering from the great Ameri- 
 can habit — and you've got to call a halt. You've 
 joined the procession — the procession of bad busy 
 boys who rush through life sacrificing everything 
 to succeed and always , measuring success not by 
 friends and happiness— but by the dollar. This isn't 
 Sunday and T don't want you to think I'm preaching 
 a sermon ; but once these boys set their eyes upon a 
 goal, they cannot even smile until that goal is 
 reached. And when they do reach ii^ — after all their 
 sacrifice, they usually find it is little more than 
 trash — You, for instance, tried to make a huge 
 fortune in a few years. Not because you needed 
 it but because making a fortune meant '' making 
 good." Incidentally, in trying to swell that fortune 
 you hurried and worried. You wouldn't eat and you 
 couldn't sleep. Then you came over to Jersey to 
 rest and recuperate. {With a smile) Did you rest? 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 103 
 
 When you first came to this farm two months ago 
 it was as quiet and peaceful as a New England 
 spinister reading the Boston Transcript. Now look 
 at it. (At this moment the chickens and squabs are 
 heard from) Listen! (As the disturbance dies 
 down) Does that sound like Boston? You had to 
 be doing something. On the move all the time! 
 Anything but relaxation. Result, in your effort to 
 supply the whole earth with squabs and broilers 
 and make another fortune, you neglected yourself, 
 failed to read my letters, forgot to answer them, lost 
 your temper, discharged your cooks, fired your men. 
 were overcome by the heat, and here you are — 
 tottering between a sanitarium and the grave — with 
 a lump of ice on your head and nothing on your 
 stomach — Hurry and Worry — That is the great 
 American habit. And it is you! (Drolly) Have T 
 made your head-ache worse? 
 
 Smith. Yes, but you have my number, all right. 
 
 JENNii:. Don't feel lonesome. You have lots 
 of company. There are thousands just like you, 
 (Offers Smith dipper of water) Here! Have a 
 little water — (Drolly, as he sips water from dipper) 
 You probablv need it — after my Chatauqua lecture. 
 
 Smith. Thanks. Is there any cure for me? 
 
 If.nnie. Yes. 
 
 Smith. What? 
 
 JENNIE. (Replacing dipper) It is very simple. 
 
 Smith . Cremation ? 
 
 JENNIE. No. 
 
 Smith. (Insistent on knozving) What? 
 
 Jennie. I would rather not say. (Jennie takes 
 out her zvatch and glances at it. The glance becomes 
 a gaze,' a sad, sweet gaze. She realizes that she 
 must return to the village shortly and that zvhen she 
 says good-bye to Smith this time it zvill probably 
 be good-bye for alzcays. She loves Smith and her 
 face shozvs it. She zvants to stay right where she is 
 and takes care of him, but he has said that he no 
 
104 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 longer needs her. So there is nothing for her to do 
 but go. As she replaces watch, she rises and starts 
 toward the kitchen steps) 
 
 Smith. Where are you going? 
 
 Jennik. (Pleasantly but quite business like and 
 without stopping or looking at him) To finish 
 (scrambHng) your eggs. 
 
 Smith. (Rising) T don't want eggs. T want 
 you. 
 
 { WooDRovv pokes his head out of the windotv.) 
 
 WooDRow. (Proudly) The water's beginnin' to 
 boil. 
 
 Jennik. All right. Watch it. Don't take your 
 eyes off it. It might burn. 
 
 WooDROvv. Yes, ma'am. (Exit Woodrow from 
 window) 
 
 Smith. Miss Brown — — 
 
 Jennie. Yes? 
 
 Smith. A while ago T asked you what would 
 cure me? 
 
 Jennie. Yes, I remember. 
 
 Smith. You can do it. Won't you marry me? 
 I need a wife and a home. 
 
 Jennie. ( Very seriously and as if it were strictly 
 a business proposition) I agree with you, — but I 
 leave to-morrow for Seattle. 
 
 Smith. (Surprised and puzzled) Seattle? 
 
 Jennie. Yes — the metropolis of Puget Sound. 
 
 Smith. What're you going way out there for? 
 
 Jennie. (As before) To live. I will leave the 
 Argentine contracts in the house. I arranged every- 
 thing according to your cables. (Starts toward 
 kitchen steps) 
 
 Smith. Say I don't want you to go to Seattle. 
 
 (Jennie pauses.) 
 [ennie. (Lightly but with a sweet but sad little 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 105 
 
 smile) Why should it make any difference to you? 
 You don't need me any longer. 
 
 Smith. Who said I didn't need you? 
 
 Jennie. You did. You offered me to the 
 Dodges — as though I were a pound of tea — or a 
 nutmeg — or an umbrella that you'd borrowed during 
 a rain storm and the storm being over, you don't 
 need it any longer. " Take her," you said — " I don't 
 need her any longer." 
 
 Smith. (Dumbfounded) I ? (Then recol- 
 lecting) By thunder! — 
 
 Jennie. You did say it, didn't you? 
 
 Smith. Yes, but — listen 
 
 Jennie. (With a note of finality) It is too late 
 for an explanation, Mr. Smith — and besides your 
 eggs are scrambling. (Starts towards steps) 
 
 Smith. Miss Brown, I love you. 
 
 Jennie. (Pausing and shaking her head) No, 
 Mr. Smith: there's only one girl that you have 
 time to love — that's the girl on the American dollar. 
 
 Smith. Are you going? 
 
 Jennie. To-morrow morning. (She then goes 
 deliberately to steps. Smith watches her — disap- 
 pointed. He then crosses slowly to crate filled with 
 chickens, which he looks at idly. He does not at- 
 tempt to work. Jennie about to ascend steps, looks 
 at Smith. Her impulse is to rush to him and com- 
 fort him. Then she ascends steps slowly. He, 
 meanwhile has been gasina dejectedly at the crated 
 chickens when Jennie reaches door, she glances at 
 .Smith, then opens the screen door slowly. When it 
 is open, Smith faces her) 
 
 Smith. Jennie! (Jennie is silent) Jennie! 
 
 Jennie. I came here on business. For that rea- 
 son if you wish to discuss matters other than busi- 
 ness, it will have to be after business hours and 
 where I live. 
 
 Smith. (Crosses to the steps thoughtfully. He 
 now stands at lower step) If I — If I quit the 
 
io6 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 poultry business— would — you — through pity — if I 
 stayed in the land business — where I was when I 
 
 met you first — would you 
 
 Jennie. Whatever you do or in whatever busi- 
 ness you may engage, Mr. Smith, T wish you much 
 prosperity. 
 
 (Red comes through the run-way gate— carrying a 
 crate filled zvith chickens which he places on 
 the ground.) 
 
 Red. (Ignoring Smith) How many'd you want 
 to ship. Miss? 
 
 Jennie. Forty dozen. 
 
 Smith. (Weakly but still in a hurry) And for 
 heaven's sake hur 
 
 Jennie. (Cutting him off before he can say 
 ''hurry'' and speaking very gently) Take your 
 time, Mr. Morgan. Take your time. 
 
 Red. (Grinning at Jennie, admiringly — touch- 
 ing his cap) Yes, ma'am. (Picks up two empty, 
 crates and exits on the run. Smith looks from Jen- 
 nie to Red — in zvonder) 
 
 Jennie. Mr. Smith, when I am gone I don't want 
 you to think of me as a cross between a country 
 doctor and a village preacher, but may I suggest 
 that whenever you feel like saying '* Hurry " you 
 say " Take your time." (Looks at watch) In ten 
 minutes please come in for breakfast — then I shall 
 have to say (Trying to conceal the effort) good-bye. 
 
 Smith. Please — one moment. Jennie, did you 
 ever stop to think why I came over here? 
 
 Jennie. Yes, Mr. Smith — to preserve your bait. 
 
 Smith. But — why did I come here to preserve 
 it? Don't call me Mr. Smith. 
 
 Jennie. Because this was an ideal place. Don't 
 call me Jennie. 
 
 Smith. Who made it ideal? My nariie is 
 George. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 107 
 
 J EN N jr. Nature, Mr. Smith. 
 
 Smith. {Idealistic ally) You! This is just an 
 old, worn-out farm but when you described it to me 
 that day in my office it seemed to be a paradise. 
 You brought me over here to see it and it was a 
 paradise. Then you went to South America and it 
 became a poultry plant. To-day it seems like para- 
 dise again. Jennie Brown, there is something about 
 you that affects me ! 
 
 Ten N IE. Where? 
 
 SxMiTH. All over. 
 
 I EN N IE. How — chills or fever? 
 
 Smith. I don't know, but when Tm with you, 
 I'm not the same man, I'm entirely different. 
 
 Jennie. Then perhaps it is an act of Providence 
 that is taking me to Seattle. (Starts tozvards steps) 
 
 Smith. (IVith feeling) Don't go, Jennie! 
 You aren't going to leave me now, are you — right 
 when T need you and want you and love you ! 
 You've brought such wonderful happiness into my 
 life. You will stay, won't you? Won't you? 
 Please I 
 
 JENNIE. {Goes towards the crate — One is in 
 doubt as to zvhether she tvill take him or not) Mr. 
 Smith, I 
 
 Smith. Won't you marry me? Won't you.'' 
 Won't you? 
 
 (Jennie still hesitates. She can't quite forget his 
 zvillingness to let her go to Seattle.) 
 
 Jennie. But you said 
 
 Smith. That was before I knew I loved you. 
 You will marry me, won't you? (As Jennie stands 
 h\ his side, he draws her to the crate beside him. 
 fhcy arc both seated) Won't you? 
 
 ([ennie's lips move toward Smith — instantly he 
 raises his arms as if to crush her in his arms. 
 
io8 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Her lips halt. Then Smith lowers his arms. 
 Again Jennie's lips start slozvly toward Smith. 
 zvhereupon Smith_, impatient to kiss l.er, makes 
 a peck at her lips, like a hungry chicken peck- 
 ing at an apple, but Jennie is too quick for 
 him.) 
 Jennie. {Rebuking him, playfully se-vere) Tc! 
 Tc! {Slight pause, then his lips start slozvly to- 
 zvard hers. She watches them a moment, then, 
 drolly, as she places her ozvn lips on a line with 
 Smith's) Take your time, George. Take your 
 time, {Just as his lips are about to touch hers, he 
 hastens a bit) Don't hurry. {Their lips meet. As 
 the curtain is falling a cockerel in the crate crozvs 
 lustily) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 ACT in. 
 
 The Scene : — The liznug room of the Smith bunga- 
 lozv in a Nezv York suburb. A Spring after- 
 noon, tzvo years later. 
 
 It is a restful, co::ily furnished room with ex- 
 posed beams, and a stone fireplace, l. 2. There 
 are three entrances : a door, somewhat above 
 center of right zvall, leading into vestibule of 
 front veranda; another door, somewhat above 
 center of left zvall, leading into bed-room; and 
 an archzvay, center of rear zvall, through zvhich 
 can be seen the dining-room zvith a linen- 
 covered table, center, neatly draped windozvs 
 in its rear wall. This archzvay is provided zvith 
 folding doors. Belozv center of right wall is a 
 bay zvindow zvith window seat. 
 L. c, a circular fable. Upon it an electric read- 
 ing lamp zvith green shade, l. of table, a large 
 easy -chair, r. of table, a rocking chair. 
 Right, against zvall and aboz>e zvindozv-seat, a 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 109 
 
 felephone-stand with telephone and chair beside 
 it. Between this stand and the door is a baby- 
 grand piano. 
 
 Left, against zvall, a bookcase. There is a 
 cuckoo clock above the archzvay. A small zvood 
 fire burns in the fireplace. Above fireplace, a 
 wicker wood-basket, filled with small logs. Be- 
 lozv fireplace a foot-stool. On the mantel, 
 among other things, is a photograph of Perry 
 Dodge taken shortly before he zvent to Seattle, 
 izvo years ago. 
 
 There are several z'oses of wild flozvers in the 
 room. 
 
 It rs late afternoon in spring and through the 
 zvindows can be seen the green lazun surrounded 
 by a neatly trimmed hedge. In the hedge, are 
 silver maple trees. The house is located on 
 Maplehurst Road, and is about one half mile 
 from its nearest neighbor, a large country house 
 built on old English lines, and surrounded by 
 trees. It can be seen through the dining-room 
 zvindows. 
 At Rise: — Jennie is at the 'phone zvearing a pretty 
 house dress. She is listening as a tradesman 
 repeats an order on the 'phone after her. 
 
 Jennie. Have you got that down? Yes? — and 
 six cakes of sapolio, two balls of bluing, one package 
 of gelatine — yes Cox's — a tin of Kip])ered lierring, 
 and a dozen boxes of matches. For Mrs. George 
 .Smith, Maplehurst Road. Be careful that you have 
 the right Smith. — Good-bye. (Puts telephone in 
 receiver — calls into dining-room to Tillte zvho is 
 setting the table. Tillie is a neat little country 
 maid) Tillie! Did my jelly jell? 
 
 Tillie. No Mo'm. Cook says she's afraid your 
 jelly never will jell. 
 
 Jennie. Very well, then we'll use it for pud- 
 dine sauce. Mr. Smith likes sweet sauces on his 
 
'tio WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 pudding'. (The cuckoo clock cukoos five. Jenntic 
 looks at it) Hm ! He ought to be here now ! 
 
 TiLLiE, (As she sets', the fable) Maybe he missed 
 his train. 
 
 Jennie. He never misses it. The train is prob- 
 ably late. Don't use the plated silver to-night, 
 Tillie. Put on the wedding silver. 
 
 TiLLiE. Yes Mom. 
 
 Jennie. And set the table for four — we are go- 
 ing to have compan}'. (She closes the dining-room 
 doors. Agnes, a sweet-faced, sensible nurse of 
 twenty-eight — capped, aproned and carrying an 
 empty nursing bottle in a nickel-plated frame, ap- 
 pears at the bed-room door) Agnes, I want our 
 baby to show of¥ to-night. Is she asleep? 
 
 Agnes. Yes, Mrs. Smith. 
 
 Jennie. {Giving a fezv finishing touches to the 
 room) Some old friends from Seattle are going to 
 be here and I want baby to make a good impression. 
 
 Agnes. { Smiling reassuringly) She will. She 
 is having a nice long nap. Your friends know you 
 have a baby, don't they ? 
 
 Jennie. Oh, yes — at least they should. We sent 
 them one of the baby's cards, but they never answer 
 a letter. (As Agnes goes toivards folding doors) 
 \i you're going out for a fresh bottle, Agnes, please 
 tell cook I want to see her. 
 
 Agnes. Yes, Mrs. Smith. {Exit Agnes) 
 
 (Ji>:nnie glances at clock again, then goes to table 
 and picks up a baby's cap from table — sits in 
 the rocking chair, and sezvs on a tie ribbon. 
 The sun is now setting. Slowly the grey 
 shadows of evening steal across the landscape — 
 seen through the windows — and during the fol- 
 lowing scene the room becomes gradually 
 darkened. Enter Phoebe Snow, from dining 
 room. She is as fat as ever but is now dressed 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 1 1 ;i 
 
 hi a clean kitchen dress and is fairly beaming— 
 the ideal cook.) 
 
 Phoebe. Yassam? 
 
 Jennie. (As she looks up from her seicing) 1 
 liave good news for you, Phoebe. 
 
 Phoebe. Yassam. 
 
 Jennie. We are going" to have unexpected guests 
 to dinner. 
 
 Pho]':be. (Smiling) Yassam. Hovv many? 
 
 Jennie. Two. You remember Mr. Dodge, don^t 
 you? (Phoebe's blank expression shozvs she 
 doesnt) He was at the farm the day you refused 
 to cook for the sick chicken. 
 
 Phoebe. De stout gen'leman? 
 
 Jennie. Yes — I've just had a telegram from Mrs. 
 Dodge saying they arrived in New York to-day and 
 will be here this evening. 
 
 Phoebe. (Smiling) Yassam. 
 
 Jennie. You have dinner enough to go round, 
 FMioebe, but some little extra dessert might 
 
 Phoebe. Yassam. What is their favorite 
 dessert ? 
 
 Jennie. Oh, anything sim])le. They're not at all 
 fastidious. 
 
 Phoebe. (Blankly — doesn't know "fastidious") 
 Yassam. (Inspired — radiant at thought of it) You 
 know, I'd just like to set dat dinnah back and have 
 somepin downright speshul. 
 
 Jennie. Have anything you want, Phoebe, ex- 
 cept chicken. 
 
 Phoebe. (Crestfallen but polite) Yassam, but if 
 1 can't cook chicken, Mrs. Smith, I can't do my- 
 se'f justice. Fo' chicken it takes Phoebe Snow ! 
 
 Jennie. (Sympathetically) I know it, Phoebe, 
 1uit Mr. Smith can't eat chicken any more. He 
 says it's almost like eating an old friend. (Smil- 
 ing) You understand. 
 
112 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Phoebe. Yassam, I understand — if he means 
 dem croupy chickens hke he used to raise. 
 
 Jennie, {Kindly hut emphatic — in defense of her 
 husband) I beg your pardon, Phoebe — Mr. Smith's- 
 chickens were milk- fed thorobreds. 
 
 Phoebe. Yassam, but do you remember dat time 
 I quit him on de chicken farm and you sent fo' me 
 to come back and I didn't turn up fo' three days? 
 (Jennie nods) I was sufferin' — O Golly! How 
 I was sufferin' 
 
 Jennie. What was the trouble? 
 
 Phoebe. I ate one of dem chickens — an' I 
 thought I would die ! Yassam ! Fve had headaches 
 an' toothaches an' rheumatiz an' perrtnitiss 
 (Peritonitis) but of all de sick niggers! I said to 
 m'self — " Phoebe Snow, if you evah git out o' dis 
 alive, don't you evah speak to anoder chicken as 
 long as you live. No, suh ! " An' I hasn't ! Yas- 
 sam. {Shaking her head rue f idly) Mistah Smith 
 certainly had one fierce chickens on dat farm. 
 (Starts off) 
 
 Jennie. (Remembering) Oh, Phoebe. (Phoebe 
 stops) Mr. Smith doesn't know the Dodges are 
 coming. We'll surprise him. 
 
 Phoebe. (Smiling) Yassam! (Goes off) 
 
 Jennie. (Lights the lamp, glances at the clock, 
 then goes to bedroom door, opens it softly and 
 listens — then leaving the door ajar — she turns to 
 Agnes ivho re-enters with a fresh milk bottle in the 
 holder. Jennie puts her hand to the bottle) 
 That's just right — not too warm ! (As Agne.s 
 passes into the bedroom, and out of sight, Jennie 
 speaks to her in a hushed voice) Agnes! will you 
 kindly go into my room and bring out Mr. Smith's 
 jacket and slippers? (Jennie goes to the zmndozv 
 and looks out — glances at the clock again. Agnes 
 appears at the door with smoking jacket and a pair 
 of house slippers — Jennie takes them — nodding 
 thanks. Agnes goes off and closes the door quietly. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 113 
 
 Jennie sets the slippers down by the fire and lays 
 the jacket across the back of his chair, glances at 
 clock again, surveys room to see if everything is 
 satisfactory, goes to piano and moves the vase of 
 Hozvers a trifle, draws the zvindozv shade a bit lower, 
 fusses a little zvith curtain, then crosses to bedroom 
 and goes off. As Jennie goes off Tillie enters 
 form dining-room, looks about room for vase of 
 flowers for dining table, goes to piano, takes vase 
 therefrom and starts toward dining-room. Jennie 
 re-enters from bedroom^ Tillie, the flowers on the 
 center table are fresher. 
 Tillie. Yes'm. 
 
 {Returns to piano with vase, takes vase from, table, 
 goes into dining-room and closes folding doors. 
 Jennie takes vase from piano, glances at clock 
 and places vase on table. Enter Smith r. d., 
 not hurriedly as of old, but taking his time. 
 He wears a light-weight overcoat and looks 
 much younger than in previous acts. Is 
 better fed, better groomed, and quite normal. 
 Has a nice comfortable-looking stomach and a 
 big smile. Is a new man, healthy, happy, 
 prosperous, calm and contented.) 
 
 Smith. (Entering very deliberately) Hello, 
 dear. 
 
 Jennie. Hello ! 
 
 Smith. (Going toward her deliberately — She to- 
 ward him rapidly) The train was late. 
 
 Jennie. I knezv it was the train. (He elevates 
 his arms deliberately to embrace her but she is im- 
 patient — wants to be kissed quick. Playfully but 
 serious) Hurry, dear! Don't be so slow! 
 
 (He smiles good naturedly, embraces her and is 
 about to kiss her when she kisses three times 
 in rapid succession.) 
 
114 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Smith. How's the kiddy? 
 
 Jennie. Proud as a little peacock over that new^ 
 tooth. ( They start down, his arm around her zvaist) 
 She is probably showing it to the fairies this very 
 minute. 
 
 Smith. Isn't she a great girl ! Never makes any 
 trouble! (Removing overcoat deliberately, Jennie 
 assisting somewhat) I've got an appetite as big as 
 a battleship. \A^hat are we going to have for 
 dinner ? 
 
 Jennie. Phoebe is going to surprise us. 
 
 Smith. Good! What I like about Phoebe is 
 she always has her meals on time and she cooks 
 enough of everything. (Starts tozvard vestibule 
 with overcoat) 
 
 Jennie. And she's honest. 
 
 Smith. (Stopping and looking at Jennie) I 
 don't know about that, Jennie. There was once a 
 chicken with a red string — Well, never mind. (He 
 hangs up his overcoat in the vestibule. As he re- 
 enters) 
 
 Jennie. (Drolly — she has been zvatching him) 
 Are you ill, dear? 
 
 Smith. (Coming toward her — smiling) T never 
 felt as well in my life. Why? 
 
 Jennie. You are so slow. 
 
 Smith. Large bodies are always slow. 
 
 Jennie. And yours is getting larger every day. 
 (Offers him the smoking jacket) 
 
 Smith. (As he removes coat) H it keeps on, T 
 think I'll have to either join the Marathon Club or 
 play golf. 
 
 Jennie. Or stay home from the office on Mon- 
 day morning and help Plioebe with the wash. 
 (Craftily, as she helps him put on jacket) I — I 
 don't suppose, George, you've heard from the 
 Dodges, lately? 
 
 S^riTH. AMiat made vou think of them? 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 115 
 
 Jennie. {Evasively) Oh,— it just came to me. 
 Have you? 
 
 Smith. (/// a kind but someivhat disgusted 
 spirit) No, I haven't heard from Perry for over 
 a vear and what's more, iVe just ahout given up all 
 hope of ever hearing from him. He's probably so 
 fat and prosperous that he hasn't the ambition to 
 sign his name to a letter, let alone writing one. 
 Jennie. Perry is probably very busy. 
 Smith. In Seattle? Oh, no! He's sound 
 asleep. And besides, no man has the right to be so 
 confounded busy that he can't spare time to write 
 to his friends? Any man who allows his busmess 
 to make a slave of him is a fool. I wouldn't. A 
 man ought to use his common sense. (Jennie 
 sidiles. 'Jennie has picked up her zvork basket to 
 have it out of the way and is laying the baby cap 
 
 in it Smith puts his arm about her and sees the 
 
 cap) Hello! Is that what you are making for 
 baby? (Jennie nods. Smith takes up the bonnet 
 and dangles it, admiringly, at arm's length) Isn't 
 that great! It's wonderful! Do you think she's 
 av/ake yet? (Starts towards bedroom) 
 
 Jennie. No, don't wake her up, George. (She 
 lavs aside the zvork basket containing the bonnet. 
 Then takes him by his arm and escorts him to easy- 
 chair) Plow was business to-day.^ 
 Smith. Good, very good. 
 Jennie. That's nice. 
 
 Smith. {As he sits in easy-chair) People are 
 beginning to realize that the only safe place to 
 invest their money is in land. 
 
 Jennie. Your Argentine investment is proving 
 profitable, isn't it? -1 • 1 
 
 Smith. I wish we had twenty just like it! 
 (Pinching her cheek) My old partner! (The 
 telephone rings. Smith starts to rise) 
 ..Jennie. Don't bother, dear, I'll answer it. 
 (Crosses to 'phone and picks it up) Yes — Mr. 
 
if6 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Smith? — Yes, but 
 
 Smith. (Provoked at hazing hecu disturbed) 
 Who is it? 
 
 Jennie. {To Smith) . Eddie, at the office. 
 
 Smith. {Emphatically) Doesn't he know that I 
 left strict orders never to call me up at my home? 
 
 Jennie. He says it's important. 
 
 Smith. {Provoked— angrily) I don't care if it 
 is. 
 
 Jennie. {Quietly, in 'phone) Just a moment, 
 Eddie. 
 
 Smith. {As before) My home's my home and I 
 don't propose to turn it into a business office. 
 
 Jennie. {Who has her ear to the telephone) 
 Oh, I see — Just a moment. {To Smith) The 
 Society for the Prevention of Aged and Jndigent 
 Horses. 
 
 Smith. I know the rest — Mrs. Lee-Hugh. 
 (Smiling, as if amused, and rising) 
 
 Jennie. Do you know what she wants? 
 
 Smith. Yes. She wants me to pension another 
 old horse. (He reaches out hand and Jennie gives 
 him the 'phone. Then, in telephone, calmly and 
 pleasantly) Eddie, you tell Mrs. Lee-Hugh that 
 I'm willing to pension an old mule or an old 
 automobile but that I don't intend to pension any- 
 thing that is subject to colts — That's final. And 
 Eddie — it's all right this time but if you ever dare 
 to call me up again on business at my home, con- 
 sider yourself discharged. That's final, too. 
 (Hangs up receiver and places telephone on the 
 stand — Then sits in easy-chair again) 
 
 Jennie. Whatever became of that old horse 
 you've been pensioning so long? Did she die? 
 
 Smith. No, they sold her the other day to 
 Buffalo Bill's Wild West. 
 
 Jennie. How lovely ! 
 
 Smith. (Proudly) And they say she's the 
 wildest horse in the show. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 117 
 
 Jennie. How proud you must be! We'll takj 
 baby to see her. 
 
 (Smith leans over to unlace his shoe, monkeys 
 zi'ith it lahorlouslv a moment, then straightens 
 up and looks at Jennie.) 
 
 Smith. Jennie, 1 am going to stay home Mon- 
 day morning. I'm getting so stout that T can't 
 unlace my own shoes. 
 
 Jennie. I'll unlace them this time, but here- 
 after — (Shakes her head play f idly severe. Then 
 picks up the footstool) 
 
 Smith. (As Jennie puts stool in front of chair) 
 Never mind, dear. (He tries to unlace shoe but 
 Jennie slaps his hand playfully and, sitting on the 
 footstool, unlaces one of Smith's shoes in spite of 
 his efforts to do it himself. She taps his hand play- 
 fully — to stop him. Finally he gives in and leans 
 hack in chair. Reminiscently — after zvatching 
 Jennie a fezv moments) Jennie, I've just been 
 thinking — (After slight pause) When our little 
 girl is a loving little wife like you, I wonder whose 
 shoes she will be unlacing. 
 
 Jennie. You never can tell dear. The little boy 
 v\ ho is to be her husband may some time become 
 President of the United States. And again 
 
 Smith. He might be a policeman. Somehow I 
 hate that fellow already. 
 
 Iennie. Why dear? (Goes on unlacing his 
 shoe) 
 
 Smith. Well, a domestic man — like me — wants 
 to keep his children by his side as long as he can. 
 You take awful chances when you have girls. 
 
 (JiNNiE glances at him. She sees that he is 
 troubled over something. As she slips off his 
 shoe she glances at him again. Then she puts 
 his slipper on. During the following, she 
 
fi8 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 unties his left shoe — the same business as be- 
 fore. ) 
 
 Jennie. Did something happen to-day, George? 
 
 Smith. No, but — I'm just thinking. 
 
 Jennie. What about? 
 
 Smith. (Gravely) Jennie: did you ever stop to- 
 think that our daughter's a girl. 
 
 Jennie, A daughter could hardly be a boy^ 
 dearest. 
 
 Smith. No, but the fact remains — She IS a girl,. 
 and we must be prepared. 
 
 Jennie. Prepared for what, dear? 
 
 Smith. W'hy, for the bills. Girls cost money, 
 
 Jennie. \\^ell, we have money, haven't we? 
 
 Smith. Not enough. It costs a fortune to raise 
 girls. 
 
 Jennie. When did you first realize that little 
 girls were so tremendously expensive? 
 
 {During the follo7vi)ig, as Jennie unlaces his shoe^ 
 Smith begins to thrum his fingers on chair- 
 arm as if deeply worried. He removes his 
 shoe, Jennie puts on his slipper.) 
 
 Smith. When you were taking ofif my shoe. 
 {Subdued but intensely in earnest and pointing in 
 direction of bedroom door which is ajar — partly 
 open) Did it ever occur to you that that little baby 
 in there isn't going to be a baby all her life? She's 
 going to grow up. We're going to send her to 
 college. She's going to have measles, mumps, fine 
 clothes, fine hats, whooping cough. She's going to 
 travel. You're going to travel with her. She's 
 going to have lots of friends. \\^e're going to give 
 her lots of. parties. , 
 
 Jennie. {Pointing tozvards bedroom door) Sh ! 
 
 Smith. And when she's married we're going to 
 give her a fine wedding and stock her up with 
 towels and sheets and pillow-cases. And for all we 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. Try 
 
 Ivnow we'll have to support her husband and buy 
 "him a new automobile every year. And then when 
 the grandchildren come — Great heavens. Jennie, 
 you don't know what it costs to raise a girl ! Fm 
 not complaining. I'm only too glad to make money 
 for our little girl. It's not her fault she's a girl. 
 But if she'd been a boy it'd be different. By the 
 time a boy's old enough to vote he can take care 
 of himself, but a girl can't. 
 
 Tennte. T took care of myself. 
 
 Smith. But you're an exception. You can't 
 expect her to come up to her mother. Jennie : — 
 from the moment a girl enters this world, a pink 
 little baby, until she leaves it, an old white-headed 
 Avoman, she is helpless and dependent. (Rises im- 
 portantly) 
 
 Jennie. (On the stool, looking up, and humoring 
 him) Yes, dear. 
 
 Smith. All women are dependent. 
 
 Jennie. Yes, dear. 
 
 Smith. It's a tough proposition but it's a fact, 
 and we might as well look the fact in the face and 
 get ready. I must make more money and I must 
 make it cjuickly. 
 
 Jennie. (Rising— -lays her hand tenderly on his 
 arm) Sit down, Wall Street. (He looks at her, 
 pitc:!:led) You don't have to make it this very 
 minute. 
 
 Smith. 1 tell you — — 
 
 Jennie. Now don't get keyed up, dear. 
 
 Smith. No, Jennie: I promised you not to get 
 keyed up and work over time ; but it's an aw^ful 
 temptation to- 
 
 Jennie. (Kindly, yet firmly, interrupting him) 
 George. (Points to easy-ehair) 
 
 Smith. Oh, all right. 
 
 (Smith sits in easy-ehair. ]ennte sits on left arm 
 of it.) 
 
120 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Jennie. (Whimsically) You're quite right, dear. 
 It does cost a fortune to raise little girls. And that 
 is why little girls are so scarce. That is why they 
 have always been so scarce. Only the richest 
 families can afford to have little girls — and even 
 they must be content to have them one at a time. 
 That is why you never see little girls in the homes 
 of poor people. Never ! Little boys are there by 
 the bushel because little boys can be raised on mush 
 and milk and lots of love, 1)Ut little girls — (Smiling) 
 You never see little girls in the parks or on the 
 streets or at picnics. It's always boys. That is why 
 there are so few women in the world. You know, 
 vou generally have to have little girls before you can 
 have grown women. And that explains why there 
 are always more men than women in the women 
 suffrage parades — and likewise, more husbands than 
 wives. It also explains why fathers always file a 
 petition of bankruptcy the moment the . family 
 physician opens the door and says — (Quietly and 
 very gravely — imitating physician) " My friend, I 
 am sorry — and you have my heartfelt sympathy, but 
 as your family physician, it is my sad duty to inform 
 you that your wife is the mother of a girl." When 
 Georgiana came, you filed a petition of bankruptcy, 
 didn't you? 
 
 Smith. I did not. 
 
 Jennie. But you are going to, aren't you? 
 
 (Smith is defeated. He slips his arm around 
 Jennie's zvaist, and smiles sheepishly. He is 
 now [almost] as calm as when he entered.) 
 
 Smith. I surrender. Little girls can be raised 
 just as cheaply as little boys— mush and milk and 
 lots of love. That's all they need ! I'm blamed if 
 I'll ever begin stewing over anything again! 
 
 Jennie. But you were stewing. George, Tm 
 going to nip you in the bud. (She rises and starts 
 up towards bookcase) 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 121 
 
 Smith. What do you mean? 
 
 Jennie. I'm going to punish you. 
 
 Smith. (Innocently — like Flossie in Act I.) 
 What have / done? 
 
 Jennie. Do you remember the night you gave 
 me my engagement ring? 
 
 Smith. Certainly, but 
 
 Jennie. (Smiling) You wanted to marry me im- 
 mediately. 
 
 Smith. Who wouldn't have? 
 
 Jennie. I said to you : " When you have calmed 
 down and become a normal man instead of a bundle 
 of nerves, my beloved George, I shall marry you, 
 but not until." Remember? 
 
 Smith. Yes and I went straight to that sanita- 
 rium in Philadelphia. And when I got out 
 
 Jennie. The night we were married you were 
 the calmest man in the room. 
 
 Smith. Of course I was ! 
 
 Jennie. Who taught you to be calm? 
 
 Smith. The Sanitarium — and you— mostly you. 
 
 Jennie. (Smiling, but in earnest) This evening 
 we are going to revive those old lessons in calmness. 
 ( Rises) 
 
 Smith. (Rising and pleading like a boy in dread 
 of a zvhipping) Don't Jennie. For heaven's sake. 
 Don't make me do all those stunts over again. 
 
 Jennie. Not all of them, dtsiv— (Satirically) 
 fust the most pleasing parts. 
 
 (She starts towards book-case. Smith watches 
 her despondently until she is almost there.) 
 
 Smith. No, no, I can't, Jennie. I'll rock the 
 Ijaby instead. The baby always pleases me. (He 
 rushes into bed-room) 
 
 (Jennie has gone to book-case. She opens the 
 loiver drawer, takes out metrenome, then comes 
 
122 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 dozvn to table, with the metrenonie. Re-enter 
 Smith, follozved by Agnes. Smith has 
 Georgiana in his arms and paces rapidly r. 
 jostling her as if he ivere making a milk shake. 
 Agnes, horrified, stands near bed-room door 
 and watches Smith. She doesn't knoiv zvhat 
 to do. Just stares at Smith, helplessly. 
 Arrived above piano, Smith reverses and paces 
 L. Jennie, sets the metrenome adjuster at 60 
 Largo, after removing the front panel of the 
 instrument; Smith, in the meantime, has 
 reached the bed-room door again and is pacing 
 R. Upon arriving at piano again, he comes 
 dozvn R. almost on a running walk and still 
 swinging the baby. As he passes the table, 
 Jennie stops him gently.) 
 Jennie. If you must rock the baby, dear, keep 
 time to this metrenome. 
 
 Smith. (Screzving face up, like a kid about to 
 take medicine) Great Scott! Do I have to do that 
 again ? 
 
 Jennie. (Playfully severe) When children dis- 
 obey they must be punished. (Begins to zvind 
 metrenome) 
 
 Smith. {SmiUrdg at metrenome. Agnes dis- 
 creetly retires) I thought you'd thrown that thing 
 away long ago. 
 
 Jennie. No, George. I didn't have the heart to 
 throw away an old friend. (vS^^^^ metrenome on 
 table and starts pendulum szmnging) Now, begin. 
 One — two — three — four. 
 
 Smith. (Drily) Oh Lord! Yes, dear. 
 
 (Jennie stops pendulum, then, starting it, counts as 
 the pendulum swings back and forth — about 
 tzvo seconds betzveen each count. She holds on 
 to Smith's sleeve until further notice.) 
 
 Jennie. (Beating time zvith index finger of right 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 123 
 
 hand; metrenome nozv on table) One — two— three 
 -four— one— two— three — four. {Turniny to 
 Smith ) As— you— pace — my— dear— please— 
 
 l^eep — time— to — this— met— re— nome. Be— gin — 
 my— dear— be— loved— hus— band. (Starting dozvn 
 -Jith him ) One— two— three— four— one— two 
 ■ three four — (They face l. and cross l. dur- 
 ing the follozving) 'You— must— not— for— get- 
 that— I— will— pun— ish— you— ev—e—ry— time — 
 yot^_hurr— y— or — worr — y— be — cause — if— you 
 
 do — you — soon — will — be — the — ner — vous — 
 
 ^^;i-eck— you— were— be— fore — I— mar — ried— you. 
 {Arrived at lower right, having paced to fireplace 
 and returned during the above, Jennie faces Smith 
 right about and starts him R. alone. He paces in 
 time during the follozving) While— you— are— pac 
 ___ing_back— and— forth— to— lull— our— child — 
 to— sleep— I— shall— fin— ish— her— birth — day — 
 
 bon — net. 
 
 Smith. {Halting and imitating her speech) W ny 
 — in — thun — der-^should — I — have — to — — 
 
 Jennie. {She goes to him and takes him, gently 
 by arm) One— two — three — four — {Starting him 
 off) All— right— be— gin. {Suirn does not obey) 
 
 Smith. {SuppHcatingly yet genuinely deliberate, 
 calm) Please let me stop, Jennie. I'm not nervous. 
 And I promise you that as long as^ I live I won't 
 ever even seem to worry over anything. Please let 
 
 me stop. 
 
 Jennie. All right, dear. (Pointing finger play- 
 fully severe at him) But remember, if you break 
 your promise, vou will have to begin all over agam — 
 hot milk, raw 'eggs, deep breathing, metrenome ex- 
 ercise and all the rest of it every night and morn- 
 ing- , . 
 
 Smith. I won't break it. 
 
 Jennie. {As she takes baby from him, gently) 
 Now, you may rock her to sleep here by the fire. 
 
 Smith. (Proudly and happily) Great! The 
 
124 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 proudest moment of a man's life is when he's rock- 
 ing his first baby to sleep ! 
 
 Jennie. {To Agnes at bedroom door) Agnes, 
 bring the basanet. 
 
 Smith. {Wisely) Later on he gets used to 'em. 
 
 (Jennie glances at him as much as to say — "' You 
 are assuming a great deal, George") 
 
 Jennie. {Drolly) Yes, Brigham. {She stops 
 pendulum of the metrenome and places it on table. 
 Re-enter Agnes, carrying a small szvinging basanet. 
 It is made of wicker^ has a silk canopy and is very 
 pretty. Smith meets Agnes as she comes doivn, 
 takes basanet from her and places it at r. of easy- 
 chair. Jennie kneels, places baby in basanet and 
 covers it with a little blanket. As Jennie rises to 
 feet. Smith, as happy as a boy zvith a new toy — 
 sits in easy-chair and begins to slowly swing basanet. 
 Jennie goes to Agnes. To Agnes, quietly) Hot 
 milk, Agnes, please. 
 
 Agnes. Yes, ma'am. {Exit Agnes, dining-room) 
 
 (Jennie goes to fireplace, takes a stick of wood 
 from woodbasket and puts it on the fire. She 
 then goes quietly up to bookcase and begins to 
 look for a certain book.) 
 
 Smith. {Singing, as he swings the basanet slowly 
 back and forth) 
 
 Rock-a-bye baby in the tree-top, 
 When the wind blows, the cradle will rock. 
 When the bough breaks, the cradle will fall, 
 Down comes my rock-a-bye, baby and all. 
 
 {Slight pause, then) Jennie? 
 
 Jennie. {As she takes a large book from book- 
 case) Yes, George. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 125 
 
 Smith. (Gravely, as he gazes front — and rocks 
 hasanet slozvly) Do you know what is the only 
 salvation for the xA.merican business man whose 
 nerves are all shot to thunder? 
 
 Jennie. {As she (/lances at book, which she has 
 opened) No, dear. 
 
 Smith. {Idealistic ally) His wife — His wife, a 
 little home and a baby. (Jennie comes dozvn to 
 .him with book) Jennie, you're a wonderful woman ! 
 If it hadn't been for you. I wouldn't have a little 
 borne to-night. And if it hadn't been for you, th^ 
 chances are I wouldn't have had a baby, either. 
 
 Jennie. I'm glad you feel that way about it, 
 George. 
 
 Smith. I do. (Singing) 
 
 '* Rock-a-bye baby up in the tree-top, 
 When the wind blows " 
 
 (Smiling) Jennie dear? 
 
 Jennie. Yes. 
 
 Smith. Will I have time to take a nap before 
 dinner? 
 
 Jennie. Yes — if you don't take it too long. (Re- 
 enter Agnes with a small pitcher of hot milk and a 
 glass on a tray. Jennie hands glass of milk to 
 Smith. Exit Agnes, dining-room) Here is some 
 hot milk Agnes brought you. 
 
 Smith. She's one of the most thoughtful girls T 
 ever knew. Here I am, getting ready to take a nap, 
 and in she conies with some nice hot milk. Golly, 
 l)ut that will make me sleep ! (As Smith drinks hot 
 m ilk ) 
 
 Jennie. If it doesn't, perhaps this book will. 
 
 { Smith gives her the empty glass and takes the 
 book.) 
 
 Smith. What is it — fiction? (Reading title of 
 
126 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 book) A History of the Rise and Fall of the 
 American Tariff, With Judiciary Comments By 
 William Howard Taft. Hm ! (Lays it carefully 
 on the floor — leans back in chair. Jennie turns the 
 lamp lozv, then she goes to the piano, sits and plays. 
 " Rock-a-bahy " softly. After a pause — completely 
 satisfied) Perry Dodge may be fat and prosperous, 
 but when it comes to being happy, he will certainly 
 have to take his hat off to me. 
 
 Jennie. (D roily — to humor him, as she plays) 
 Yes, George, 
 
 (Presently Smith doces off to sleep. Jennie 
 glances at him and seeing that he is asleep, plays 
 softer and softer until there is no sound at all. 
 Then she rises, smiles at her sleeping husband, 
 goes to him and kisses him very tenderly on his 
 forehead. She glances at clock. It cuckoos 
 the half hour. Then she carries basanet into 
 bedroom. The room is now dark but due to 
 the reflection from the fireplace the face and 
 body of the sleeping Smith can be seen dis- 
 tinctly. His face seems to be the picture of 
 contentment. A squeaking automobile-honi 
 sounds off R. It sounds very near — as if the 
 car was in front of the house. Smith, how- 
 ez'cr, does not hear it. He is sound asleep. At 
 the sound of the auto-horn Jennie re-appears 
 and turns up the lamp, then hastens to R. d. and 
 opens it. Enter Marjorie Dodge. Marjorie 
 is no longer the quiet, unassuming, simply 
 dressed little home-body. She is now a society 
 climber. She is dressed to the minute, has 
 ■ mastered the latest tango step, is an expert 
 gambler at Bridge, takes her after-dinner 
 cigarette, her before-dinner cocktail and acts, 
 talks and looks as if there were only three 
 things in life worth living for — fine clothes. 
 Auction Bridge and the tango. She wears a 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. ^27 
 
 }onq handsome silk cloak under zvhich is a 
 gorgeous and shockingly modern Ml-room 
 mum -the most expensive thing Bendel coud 
 show' her. The cloak completely coz'ers the 
 dress Her hat and slippers are m keeping with 
 the ciown. 'She has come dressed for a tango- 
 supper to he given in the city and to zvhich she 
 and Ferry are planning to return later in the 
 evening When she enters, the cloak is but- 
 toned, thereby completely hiding the gown. 
 And the light in the room h so subdued that 
 the gay colors and design of the hat don't stand 
 . out prominently.) 
 
 JENNIE {Delighted, but in a low voice) Marjorie ! 
 Marjorie! (She embraces and kisses her then, 
 ^^eppinq hack and surveying her) My, but its 
 good to see you! I thought you'd forgotten us. 
 And how well you're looking! n • . 
 
 Marjorie. (Breezih) I ought to look well— just 
 came from Bendel's.' Been there ever smce T 
 reached New York. And believe me, Jennie I cer- 
 tainly did buy the last word in Pans gowns. ( C om- 
 Tng dozvn) Is George home yet.-* 
 ' Jennie. (WarningW) Sh! . 
 
 Marjorie. {Lozvering her voice—and stopping) 
 What's the matter:^ 
 
 Jennie. (In a half zvhisper) He s asleep. 
 ( Pointing tozvards chair) 
 
 Marjorie. (Incredulous, and in great amaze- 
 ment) Asleep? 
 
 [ennie. Completely. . 
 
 Marjorie. {After glancing at easy-chair^ b he 
 cant see Smith) What ails him-is he sick? 
 
 Jennie. Does he look sick ?> (The following is 
 hlnvpd zvith low voices) 
 
 MartoRIE. (Taking a look at SMmi--then in 
 great surprise) No, but-What on earth have you 
 been doing to him." 
 
r28 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Jennie. Nothing. Why? 
 
 Marjorie. He's fat enough to be an alderman ! 
 
 Jennie. (Drolly) He won't, though. I'll see to 
 that. 
 
 Marjorie. But how on earth can he tango with 
 all that meat on his frame? 
 
 Jennie. He doesn't. 
 
 Marjorie. (Surprised and somewhat loudly } 
 Don't 3^ou? 
 
 Jennie. (Raising finger, to warn her against wak- 
 ing Smith) Sh! Take off your wraps and stay 
 a while. (Slips arm around her waist and escorts 
 her r. They are nozv near window-seat, zvhere they 
 stop) 
 
 Marjorie. [Somewhat anxiously, as she unbut- 
 tons cloak) Has Perry 'phoned out? 
 
 Jennie. No, but he'll be here for dinner, won't 
 he? 
 
 Marjorie. (Peevishly) He said he would, — but 
 he ought to be here now. (As she removes cloak, 
 Jennie assisting) He promised to take me to a 
 tango supper at the— (The cloak is now off, expos- 
 ing to view the gown) 
 
 Jennie. (Stunned as she beholds the gown) 
 Marjorie! 
 
 Marjorie. (Glancing at her, blankly) What's 
 the matter? 
 
 Jennie. Your gown ! 
 
 Marjorie. (Smiling proudly at her own gown ) 
 Like it? (Poses) 
 
 Jennie. It's the most wonderful thing I ever 
 saw ! 
 
 Marjorie. You haven't seen the best part of it. 
 (Struts up stage, finger tips resting lightly on hips 
 to show off back of dress) See that back? 
 
 Jennie. (Naively) Yes, I can see most of it. 
 
 Marjorie. (Breezily and glancing over shoulder 
 at her) Some back, isn't it! 
 
 [ennie. Yes, but 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 129 
 
 Marjorie. New York hasn't anything on me — • 
 even if I do live in Seattle ! 
 
 Jennie. (With a droll little smile) You haven't 
 z'ery much on yourself, Marjorie. 
 
 Marjorie. (Not getting the point of Jennie'.s 
 joke) What? 
 
 Jennie. (Turning it aside) I said, " How much 
 you have changed." 
 
 Marjorie. (As she saunters down) I've lost 
 forty pounds, if that's what you mean. And to- 
 night I'm going to knock off a few more. Jenn, 
 there's nothing like the tango for reducing! You 
 ought to try it on George. 
 
 Jennie. (Looking towards Smith) Sh!I 
 
 Marjorie. Have you got any cigarettes? I left 
 mine at the hotel. 
 
 Jennie. No, but George sometimes smokes a 
 pipe. Would that— Oh, that reminds me — did your 
 bulbs grow? 
 
 Marjorie. (Puzzled) Bulbs? What on earth 
 are you talking about ? 
 
 Jennie. Your favorite bulbs and rose bushes — 
 the ones you took out west with you. 
 
 Marjorie. (Dimly remembering but not in the 
 least interested) Oh, yes. ( Yawns and sits in rock- 
 ing chair) 
 
 Jennie. Is your home in Seattle anything like the 
 one you had here ? That was such a cozy little place. 
 
 Marjorie. Heavens no! We live at the most 
 expensive hotel in town — and ours is the most ex- 
 pensive suite in the hotel. 
 
 Jennie. Do you prefer that to a home? 
 
 Marjorie. Well, I guess ! That way I don't have 
 to do anything but have a good time. ( Yawns as if 
 weary) May I have a cocktail? I was up all night 
 and — (Yazvns again) 
 
 Jennie. (Sympatheti'cally) Weren't you well? 
 
 Marjorie. Yes, but some girls from 'Frisco got 
 
T30 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 on the train at Chicago and we played Auction all 
 night. Some game ! Seattle against 'Frisco. 
 
 Jennie. [As before) Sh ! 
 
 Marjorie. For the love of Murphy, give me a 
 cocktail. Fm frazzled to a finish. 
 
 Jennie. Fm sorry, Marjorie, but we haven't 
 any 
 
 Marjorie. (Somewhat impatiently) Then give 
 me a Bromo Seltzer. 
 
 Jennie. Fm awfully sorry, Marjorie, but — 
 Here's some hot milk. (Pouring out some from 
 pitcher) 
 
 Marjorie. (Disgusted) In the name of Maude 
 Muller, what is this place, anyhow — the barracks of 
 the grape juice brigade? (Sarcastically) Hot 
 milk ! 
 
 Jennie. (Patting Marjorie's hand) T know 
 some on who is very very tired. 
 
 Marjorie. (Irritably) You make me tired. I 
 was all right when I came here. (Jerks her hand 
 azvay from Jennie and turning her back upon 
 Jennie, looks disgustedly at Smith) No wonder he 
 sleeps. I don't blame him. HI had to stay here 
 very long, Fd do the Rip Van Winkle stunt myself. 
 
 Jennie. (Kindly but drolly and significantly) 
 There is a slight difference between George and Rip 
 Van Winkle. Rip couldn't sleep at home. 
 
 Marjorie. (Petidantly) I don't care a rap what 
 Rip couldn't do — I came to New York to hit the 
 high spots and Fm going to hit them ! 
 
 Jennie. (Drolly serious) If you take a nice little 
 snooze before dinner you can hit the high spots 
 higher. Marjorie looks at her, disgusted. Jennie 
 slips arm about Marjorie's zvaist and smiles) 
 Come and lie down, little marksman. 
 
 Marjorie. (Irritably — indicating dress) How- 
 can I lie down with this on? 
 
 Jennie. Take it off. . ■ 
 
 Marjorie. Then I can never get it on again. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. • 131 
 
 JepsNie. Wliy not? 
 
 Marjorh:. {Petulant) When I sleep I swell up. 
 
 Jennie. Then don't go to sleep. Just lie down 
 and rest. (Humoring her) That's a good little 
 sj)ort. {She escorts Marjorie toward bed-room) 
 
 Marjorie. {Peevishly, as they go) All right, but 
 why in the Dickens doesn't Perry come ! He's al- 
 ways late when I want him to take me any place ! 
 
 Jennie. {At bed-room door — drolly but kindly 
 and as if to soothe Marjorie) Don't blame him, 
 Marjorie — there may be a reason. {They exit — 
 Jennie closes door) 
 
 {Slight pause, then Smith snores a quiet, gentle, 
 peaceful little snore. Another pause, then he 
 snores again and smiles as if dreaming a 
 pleasant Dream. Enter Perry Dodge, r. d., 
 quickly, nervously. He is thin, haggard and 
 carezvorn and looks years older than before. 
 He is hollow-eyed and worried and his com- 
 fortable looking stomach is gone. He is now 
 ■ like Smith used to be. only worse, — tired but 
 keyed up, nervous and intense and strictly busi- 
 ness. His motto has become Speed and 
 M o n e y. He looks quite dyspeptic. He wears 
 a business suit and his shoes are covered zvith 
 dust, as if he had been zvalking on a dusty road. 
 He is quite bald and what hair remains is 
 streaked with grey. He enters briskly and de- 
 terminedly, as if entering an office on a very 
 important business matter that had to be settled 
 immediately and quickly. Closes door, auto- 
 matically; glances around room, sees no one, 
 frowns impatiently, jerks out watch, glances at 
 it, then espies bed-room door, and shoving 
 watch back in pocket, starts rapidly toward 
 door. As he starts, Smith snores loudly. 
 Perry, surprised, stops in his tracks and listens. 
 Slight pause, then Smith snores again, even 
 
132 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 louder than before. Instantly Perry locates 
 the sound and, eyes riveted on easy-chair, goes 
 down to it, quickly but curiously. Arrived at 
 R. of chair, he stops and looks at Smith 
 curiously, as if not sure that he really knows 
 the man. Then he zvalks slozvly around and 
 front of him, studying Smith's face. After 
 Perry has passed in front of Smith and is 
 near the fireplace. Smith snores a lusty, whole- 
 hearted snore. Perry's lozver jaw drops and, 
 in utter amazement, he stares at Smith. 
 
 Perry. {After a pause) Great Scott! Is that 
 George? {AJ this moment, Smith gives a good 
 healthy yawn, stretches himself and zvith a series 
 of ecstatic sounds, he turns in his chair, so that he 
 faces Perry — half opens his eyes and with a long 
 soul-inspirng snore, drops off to sleep again as peace- 
 fully as a baby after a dose of paregoric. Dropping 
 into a chair, facing Smith. Flabbergasted, to him,- 
 self, as he gazes at him) I'll be damned! 
 
 {Re-enter Jennie, from bed-room. She doesn't see 
 Perry and he doesn't see her. She smiles off 
 L. at the sleeping Marjorie as she closes bed- 
 room door slozvly and softly. When door is 
 closed, she turns towards Smith and sees the 
 strange man seated in a chair, facing him — and 
 not recognizing Perry, gives a half smothered 
 exclamation of fright. ) 
 
 Jennie. Oh! 
 
 Perry. {Recovering from the shock of seeing 
 Smith asleep and not knowing Jennie is in the 
 room, rises and, going to Smith, touches him on the 
 shoulder) Say, Smith^ — Smith. (Smith does not 
 zvake) 
 
 Jennie. You let my husband alone ! Who are 
 you? I'll call for help — V\\—{Goes toward tele- 
 phone) 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. i33 
 
 Perk^-. Why Jennie. (Jennie turns and looks 
 at him, bennldered) It's only me— Perry Dodge. 
 
 Jennie. {Looking at him closely) Are you really 
 Perry Dodge? 
 
 Perry. Of course Pm Perry Dodge! Who do 
 YOU think I am. Huerta? How are you Jennie? 
 Didn't mean to frighten you. {Shaking her hand 
 nearh off) Say Jennie : is that George or have you 
 divorced him and married some one else? (Smith 
 snores gently) I don't recognize that man. 
 
 Jennie. (Smiling) It's the same George. 
 
 Perry. {Anxiously — glancing at Smitb.) What's 
 happened — is he drinking? 
 
 (Jennie shakes her head.) 
 
 Jennie. {Drily but significantly) Eating. 
 (Smith snores loudly) 
 
 Perry. For the love of —Listen to that ! -{Jerks 
 out watch and looks at it) And it isn't six o'clock 
 yet! 
 
 Jennie. {With a proud little smile) You should 
 hear him at twelve ! 
 
 Perry. I haven't snored like that since I left New 
 York! But wake him up Jennie — I want to talk 
 business. Hurry. 
 
 Jennie. My — but you have changed. 
 Perry. I've been hustling since I saw you. 
 There's big chances out West to make money and 
 I'm making it. {He starts toward Smith but 
 Jennie takes hold of his arm, and stops him) 
 Jennie. George never talks business at home. 
 Perry. But this is important! {Starts tozvard 
 Smith. Jennie takes hold of his arm again and 
 stops him) 
 
 Jennie. No: you mustn't wake him up. We'll 
 chat until 
 
 (Smith snores comfortably, contentedly. PERR^■ 
 
134 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 frowns at him. Smith's snoring irritates 
 Perry.) 
 
 Perry. (He removes Jennie's hand from his arm. 
 Confidentially) Listen — To-morrow I sail for 
 Europe. I'm going to introduce my hulled corn into 
 England, Ireland, Scotland, Wales, Germany, 
 France, Spain, and all the rest of 'em. I'm going to 
 get the British Government to feed it to the Army 
 andif the Government refuses, I'll call on Mrs. 
 Pankhurst. Listen. If the militant suffragettes of 
 England ate my hulled corn every morning for 
 breakfast, inside of six weeks they'd be able 
 to knock everv bull-headed Englishman off the 
 Island. WHERE THERE'S CORN THERE'S 
 STRENGTH ! (Smith snores and Jennie glances 
 at him hoping Perry won't ivake him up) You don't 
 believe it ! Listen — To-day. in China, where for 
 thousands of years the only thing the people ate was 
 rice, my hulled corn's being sold by the shipload. 
 People are buying it by the ton. And what's the 
 result? China is waking up ! {Prophetically) In- 
 side of fiftv years the Chinese people will rule the 
 Orient. And why? CORN! WHERE THERE'S 
 CORN THERE IS STRENGTH ! (Jennie is now 
 ga::.ing at him as if deeply interested not so much in 
 what he is saying as the way he says it. She is 
 thinking of the great change that has come over him 
 since he left New York and there is a little twinkle 
 in her eye. But Perry thinks she is intensely in- 
 terested in ivhat he is saying and that he is hypnoti::.- 
 ing her with his wonderful tale of success. He 
 steps close to her. There is a slight pause during 
 which Smith turns over on his right side, rest- 
 lessly. He sleeps in that position during the follozv- 
 ing, zvhich is spoken persuasively and in natural 
 voice) Two years ago I introduced my hulled corn 
 into Alaska. To-day Alaska is taking more gold 
 out of the sfround and fish out of the sea than ever 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 135 
 
 before in her life. Need I ask whyf {Pauses to 
 let the argument sink in — Smith turns over on his 
 left side) Drop down the Pacific Coast into British 
 ColumlMa. You hear nothing but my hulled corn. 
 (Pauses as before — Smith turns over on his back 
 as if in the throes of a bad dream) Come on down 
 the coast to the Pacific States of our own country, 
 (Smith opens his eyes slowly and gases vacantly 
 front, as if listening to something in a dream. 
 Perry makes a slight pause) When the women of 
 California made up their minds they wanted the 
 ballot, what happened? (Slight pause. Smith is 
 interested) They got it, and they got it quick. 
 (Perry smiles proudly at Jennie and Smith turns 
 his head slozvly and glances curiously at Perry. 
 Smith thinks it is all a dream) Need I tell you 
 what the women of California eat? (Smith's 
 glance becomes a gaze. Jennie and Perry do not 
 see him -their eyes being fixed on one another's) 
 And when peace is restored in Mexico, if it ever is 
 restored, what will restore it? Puffed Rice? Cream 
 of Wheat? Quaker Oats? Not in a thousand years ! 
 (Prophetically) The man that takes the Dove of 
 Peace to the City of Mexico and keeps her there, 
 A. ill be corn-fed. Understand? Fed on COR N — 
 H U L L E D CORN! (Smith rises slowly and 
 without taking his eyes off Perry, goes silently to 
 the zvood-basket, picks up a stick of wood and hold- 
 ing it behind his back, approaches Perry slowly. 
 iVo/ once does Smith, take his eyes off Perry zvhose 
 back is to him. Smith thinks him a fanatic or an 
 inmate zvho has escaped from some private asylum 
 and, although not afraid of him, zvants to be pre- 
 pared for any emergency, Jennie sees Smith and 
 smiles but does not look at him. She keeps her eyes 
 nn Perry who is unazvare of Smith's presence. 
 He keeps right on talking) I've made one fortune 
 already. Day and night my mills on Puget Sound 
 are working to feed the hungry stomachs of the 
 
136 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Orient and Western America. Now I'm going to 
 make another fortune and I want George to take 
 half of it. He's a hustler, and I'm going to make 
 him my partner. {Emphatically) Now will you 
 let me talk to him? 
 
 Smith. (He is immediately behind Perry) 
 Pardon me, stranger, but 
 
 (Perry glances over shoulder'- at him.) 
 
 Perry. (Delighted) George! (Thrusts out his 
 hand to shake) 
 
 Smith. (Motioning him back, with free hand — 
 kindly,. gently. He doesn't recognise Perry) Just 
 a moment. 
 
 Perry. (Amazed) Don't you know me? 
 
 (Smith looks at him a moment, decides he is a 
 lunatic. ) 
 
 Smith. (To Jennie — quietly) 'Phone for the 
 police. 
 
 Jennie. (Serious— not in fun) How many? 
 
 Perry. (Emphatic — to Smith) This is no time 
 for joking, George — I'm here to talk business. 
 
 Smith. (To Jennie who has started tozvard 
 'phone) Wait a minute. (To Perry, looking at 
 him curiously) Who are you, anyhow? 
 
 Perry. (Impatient at his stupidity) Perry^ 
 Perry Dodge! — Don't you know me either? 
 
 Smith. (Incredidous and pointing finger at him) 
 You? You Perry Dodge? 
 
 Perry. (Angrily sarcastic) Say, what's the 
 matter with me, anyway ? Nobody knows me ! ( To 
 Jennie) Ain't I Perry Dodge! 
 
 Jennie. (To Smith, who is gazing at Perry, 
 completely bewildered) I'm afraid he is, George. 
 
 Smith. Well I'll h&— (Stops) 
 
 Jennie. (Smiling — to Smith) Say it — I wanted 
 to. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 137 
 
 (Smith tosses stick of wood into fireplace and 
 shakes hands with Perry. During following 
 Jennie goes to fireplace and places the wood 
 on the fire.) 
 
 Perry. (Strictly business — slapping George on 
 the back) Now George: Vm off for Europe to- 
 morrow and want to talk business with you all night. 
 This is my proposition 
 
 Smith. Just a moment, Perry — What have you 
 been doing to yourself? 
 
 Perry. Getting rich. 
 
 (Phoebe Snow appears at dining room door.) 
 >♦ 
 
 Phoebe. Excuse me, but dere's a man at de bad: 
 do' wants to see a thin nurvus gen'leman what ran 
 away in his automobile. 
 
 Perry. {Incisively to Phoebe) Tell him to come 
 around to-morrow — Pm busy now. 
 
 Phoebe. Yass, suh, but he shuh is mad. 
 
 Perry. {Impatiently to Smith- — as Phoebe exits) 
 Now here's my proposition, George 
 
 Smith. Just a moment. Do I understand that 
 you have stolen someone's automobile? 
 
 Perry. No ! When I got off the train at th". 
 depot, I jumped into a taxi-cab and yelled-- 
 " Smith's ! Hurry ! " 
 
 '* What Smith ? " said the driver. 
 
 " George Smith ! " 
 
 " There's four of 'em." 
 
 " Th' one of Maplehurst Road ! " 
 
 He lost five minutes talking than ran the car a 
 l)lock and stopped for a cheroot. Imagine it ! Me — 
 the busiest man in Seattle — every minute money — • 
 sitting out there w^aiting for a 
 
 ''How far is it to Smith's?" says I. 
 
 "■ Three miles," says he. 
 
 " Straight ahead? " 
 
138 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 ** Yes — except when the road turns." 
 
 He went into a cigar store, and I started the car. 
 
 Jennie. You don't mean you ran away with the 
 man's machine? 
 
 Perry. No, it ran away with me and busted up 
 against a tree. 
 
 (" Heavy " appears in doorway. He is as heavy 
 as in Act H but is now clean shaven. Wears 
 taxi-driver' s clothes — leather cap, leather coat, 
 heavy trousers, laced boots and gauntlets.) 
 
 Heavy. (Pointing at Ferry) That's him ! You're 
 the guy I'm after! (Heavy starts angrily towards 
 Perry, but Smith steps in front of him) You 
 keep out-a this ! He smashed my car an' he's gon-a 
 pay for it. 
 
 Smith. Now look here, friend. My wife is here 
 and we don't want any trouble. {Recognizing him) 
 Why bless me ! — It's Heavy. How are you, Heavy? 
 (Grasping his hand and shaking it heartily) Glad 
 to see you. 
 
 Heavy. (With great diffiadty recognizing Smith) 
 Say you ain't 
 
 Smith. Yes. 
 
 Heavy. Good! — (Knocked out^ sits down and 
 stares at Smith) 
 
 Smith. That's right! Make yourself at home. 
 
 Heavy. (Recovering) So you're the nut that 
 
 Jennie. How do you do, Mr. Heavy? 
 
 Heavy. (To Jennie, completely flabbergasted) 
 Pardon th' profanity, but my God ! Did you marry 
 himf 
 
 Jennie. Yes. (Then pleasantly) You remem- 
 ber Mr. Dodge, don't you? (Seeing that Heavy 
 doesn't see any resemblance of the Perry Dodge of 
 Act II) The gentleman that called at the farm the 
 day that 
 
 Heavy. (Puzzled — to Jennie) The fat guy? 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 139 
 
 JENNJK. (Smiling) Yes — the comfortable gentle- 
 man. 
 
 Heavy. (To Perry) What happened? — Did you 
 get into politics? 
 
 Jennie. {Diplomatically) Now, Mr. Heavy, 
 can't we adjust 
 
 Smith. (To Heavy) Yes, can't we adjust- 
 
 Heavy. (To Smith ) You keep out of this! He 
 smashed my car and he's gon-a pay for it. 
 
 Ferry. (Losing his temper) Say: I've had about 
 enough of you! When I'm in a hurry 
 
 Smith. {Gently, like a kind father to a ivayward 
 son) Take your time. Perry. Take your time. 
 
 Heavy. {In pugilistic attitude, fists clenched and 
 glaring at Perry) Let 'im go on — T ain't afraid of 
 him. 
 
 Jennie. (Pleasantly to Heavy) How is little 
 Woodrow ? 
 
 Heavy. Almost as big as me. 
 
 Jennie. Is he married yet? 
 
 Heavy. No, but he's engaged. (Grinning) And 
 th' girl's as big as me and Smith put together. 
 
 JENNIE. Tc ! Tc! Tc! (Then tactfully) How 
 much was your car damaged? 
 
 Heavy. (Reasonably — politely) Five hundred 
 dollars — but that ain't it. It's the principle of the 
 thing. (To Perry — harshly) If you hadn't been 
 in such a confounded hurry 
 
 {Enter Marjurie, from bed-room. Her hair is 
 askew and she looks half asleep. Rubs her 
 eyes sleepily and doesn't notice anyone but 
 Perry.) 
 
 Marjorie. Oh, there you are. And not dressed ! 
 Smith. (Surprised) Marjorie! 
 Perry. (To Marjorie) I look as if I had time 
 to dress, don't I? 
 
 Marjorie. {Mad and nervous — as she goes to 
 
I40 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Perry) Perry Dodge, you promised to take me to 
 that tango supper! 
 
 Perry. (Trying to reason with her) Now 
 listen 
 
 Marjorie. I won't listen. It's always the same 
 old story! (Stamping foot as he tries to speak) 
 I won't! You said you'd take me. Didn't you? 
 Didn't you? 
 
 Perry. (Exasperated) Yes, but I'm busy. 
 (Turns to Heavy) Now look here 
 
 Marjorie. Don't you turn your back on uie! 
 (Takes hold of his arm) 
 
 Perry. (Facing her — angry but trying to appear 
 very calm) For heaven's sake, Marjorie, control 
 yourself. Don't make a scene. (Then savagely, to 
 Heavy) Plow much do I owe you? 
 
 Marjorie. (Almost hysterical) Perry Dodge, if 
 you don't take me to that tango supper 
 
 (Perry faces her, speechless zvith rage. Jennie, 
 who is now at Marjorie's side, gently takes 
 her by the arm and escorts her to window seat. 
 As Jennie takes Marjorie's arm, PIeavy pats 
 Perry sympathetically on the shoulder.) 
 
 Heavy. (Sympathetically, almost tenderly, to 
 Perry) That's all right, old man. You can pay 
 me to-morrow. (Confidentially) You've got all 
 you can handle to-night. 
 
 (Perry takes Heavy by the arm and escorts him 
 to r. d.) 
 
 Perry. (Sincerely but rapidly to Heavy, as he 
 escorts him to d. r.) Thanks for the sympathy. 
 That's what I like about you taxi-drivers. You're 
 always sympathetic^ (O/'^/u door) except in your 
 prices. (Shoves him out, slams door shut and 
 
 locks it) . . . .. . , •.. ;. . ; 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 141 
 
 Marjorie. {ApproachiiU) Perry, fairly bnrst'uuf 
 ivith rage) Perry, if you don't 
 
 Jennie. (To Perry and Marjorie) What's the 
 trouble? You two used to be inseparable. 
 
 Perry. Yes, Init a man can't get rich if he's run- 
 ning around with his wife all the time. (To Smith) 
 Now George, we'll get down to business. Here's my 
 proposition — I'm going to introduce my hulled 
 corn all over the w^orld and make a Ijank full of 
 inoney. And I'm going to Itt you in on it. 
 
 Marjorie. Perry Dodge, answer me ! " Yes " or 
 "' No?" Are you 
 
 Perry. {Breakhuj in. Emphatically) No. 
 {Then to Smith) Already my mills on Puget 
 Sound are running night and day to supply the 
 Orient. Not only that ! Alaska 
 
 Marjorie. (Who has been tapping her foot 
 angrily, biting her lozver lip and gazing wrathfully 
 at Perry, nozv explodes. She is so mad she almost 
 cries) Perry Dodge, you're a mean, horrid old 
 thing! You promised to take me to that dance and 
 now you won't do it. (Perry raises hand as if to 
 say — "Now listen") I won't listen! Pm going to 
 tell you just what I think of you. You're a mean 
 horrid old thing! All you think of is business, 
 business, buisness ! 
 
 (She pauses to breathe and Perry raises hand as 
 before as if to reason with her.) 
 
 Perr^ . Now^ 
 
 ivIarjorie. (Stamping foot ) Even since we went 
 to Seattle you've been crazy over hulled corn. You 
 don't care that — (Snapping fingers) for me any 
 more. I^verything's hulled corn, hulled corn ! 
 ( Covers her face with hands — cries) 
 
 (Smith starts toward them to intervene but 
 Jennie motions him to keep out of the fuss 
 and he' stops.) 
 
142 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Perry. (Exasperated yet trying to be tender) 
 Now be reasonable, Marjorie — this tango 
 
 Marjorie. If it hadn't been for you I'd never 
 got interested in tangos in the first place. You 
 wouldn't stay home and I had to do something. 
 (Sarcastically) Nice kind of a husband you are! 
 
 (Jennie motions to Smith and as she goes to 
 Perry, Smith goes to Marjorie.) 
 
 Jennie. {Pleasantly to Perry — as she goes to him 
 from R. of table where she has been standing) 
 Perry. (Both Perry and Marjorie look at her) 
 Our baby has a new tooth. Don't vou want to see 
 it? 
 
 (Simultaneously , she takes Perry's arm and Smith 
 takes Marjorie's arm.) 
 
 Smith. {Kindly and zvith a friendly smile — going 
 to her) Pardon me, Marjorie, but I haven't said 
 " hello " to you yet. 
 
 Marjorie. (Lugubriously) Hello, George. 
 (Then, as if appealing for sympathy and support 
 as Smith shakes her hand) Don't you think Perry 
 is a horrid old 
 
 Smith. (To Marjorie, as they start leisurely* 
 across R. and Jennie and Perry start leisurely up 
 L.) You must have come in while I was asleep. 
 
 Marjorie. I did. (Then lugubriously) Really, 
 George, don't you think Perry's a 
 
 (Exit Jennie and Perry into bedroom to sec the 
 baby.) 
 
 Smith. (Smiling, as if preoccupied, and uncon- 
 scious of interrupting her — looking straight ahead — 
 not at her) Marjorie, when I was asleep, I dreamt 
 of you. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. T43 
 
 Marjokie. That's more than Perry does. 
 
 (Smith takes hold of her arm again, reverses her 
 deliberately then starts slozvly across l. zvlth 
 her.) 
 
 Smith. (Buoyantly, as they cross l.) I dreamt 
 that we were out fishing — the four of us — and that 
 you caught a great big fish. Oh, it was a wolloper ! 
 And — and 
 
 Marjorie. [Glancing at him suspiciously) You're 
 making that up. You didn't dream about me. 
 
 Smith, (Kindly but seriously) I did dream 
 about you, but there was no fish in it. 
 
 Marjorie. Then what'd you put one in for? 
 
 Smith. To take your mind ofif your trouble. 
 (As they cross r.) What I did dream was that you 
 and Perry were still living in New York and were 
 just as happy as you used to be. You were in your 
 own little home and Perry had dragged me out of 
 my office and there we sat at your table — you and 
 he and Jennie and I. V\^e were eating berries fresh 
 from your garden, and you and Perry were as happy 
 as children, 
 
 (A slight pause.) 
 
 Marjorie. [E.vpectantly, curiously) Then what? 
 
 Smith. I began to hear a rumbling — like 
 Niagara Falls in the distance. It grew louder and 
 louder. Finally it woke me. 
 
 Marjorie. What was it? 
 
 Smith. Your husband was introducing his hulled 
 corn to Mrs. Pankhurst ! 
 
 Marjorie. (Complainingly — and zvhimpering ) 
 There you are ! I tell you, George, Perry is noth- 
 incr but hulled corn! It's all he thinks of or cares 
 for or 
 
 (Smith stops her with a little gesture.) 
 
144 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Smith. {Seriously, yet zvith a kindly smile) And 
 you — do you really enjoy tango suppers? 
 
 Marjorie. No, but 
 
 Smith. Do you really enjoy wearing that kind 
 of dress? 
 
 Marjorie. No, but 
 
 Smith. Wouldn't you rather wear one like 
 Jennie is wearing? 
 
 Marjorie. Yes, but 
 
 Smith. Then why don't you stay here this even- 
 ing and wear one of Jennie's and be comfortable. 
 
 Marjorie. (Stubbornly) Because. 
 
 Smith. Because why? 
 
 Marjorie. (Firmly) Because Perry promised 
 to take me. — 
 
 Smith. (With the air of a stern father sending 
 for his son zvhom he is going to punish) Tell 
 Perry to come here. 
 
 Marjorie. Why ? 
 
 Smith. (As before — and crossing gravely r.) 
 Tell him to come here. 
 
 Marjorie. (Emphatic . and shaking her finger at 
 him warningly) Now you look here, George — 
 whatever you do, don't humor him. What he needs 
 is a good sound^ — (Is about to say licking, but 
 pauses a moment) talking to. 
 
 Smith. (Patting her shoulder — reassuringly) 
 That's what I'm going to give him. 
 
 Marjorie. (With a tenderness bordering on 
 pathos) Don't be too hard on Perry, George. He 
 isn't altogether to blame. You used to be like he is 
 yourself. 
 
 Smith. (Gently and significantly) That is why 
 I want to talk to him. I know how he feels. Tell 
 him to come here. (Marjorie looks at him and 
 then starts tozvard bed-room door. When she is 
 almost at door) Marjorie? (She stops and looks 
 at him) Don't tell him to come — ask him. 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. i45 
 
 Makjokie. I shall tell him— and emphatically, 
 too. 
 
 {Enter Perry and Jennie from bed-room. 
 Marjorie gives a swift glance at Perry and 
 turns her back to him abruptly. She wants 
 him to understand that all overtures of peace 
 must come from him.) 
 
 Jennie. {As they enter — to Smitei. She is much 
 pleased) Perry thinks the baby looks like you, 
 George. 
 
 Smith. Thank you. Perry. 
 
 Jennie. {Tactfully, as Perry glances worriedly 
 at Marjorie's back — going to Marjorie. Then 
 sweetly — ) Marjorie, you haven't seen our baby 
 yet. 
 
 Marjorie. No, but I know she doesn't look like 
 George. {Glances spitefully at Perry, then starts 
 independently toward bed-room. Jennie smiles 
 encouragingly at Perry^ — then follows Marjorie) 
 
 {Exit Marjorie and Jennie. Bed-room door is 
 closed. ) 
 
 Perry. {Disgusted) Can you beat that for luck! 
 Here I am, all tired out — worried to death over 
 business — sailing to-morrow with my hulled corn — 
 {Cynically) and my wife wants me to take her to a 
 tango. {Bangs table zvith fist and paces angrily) 
 
 Smith. {Significant) Why? 
 
 Perry. {Stopping and throwing up his arms) 
 That's it- why ! The Lord only knows — I don't ! 
 
 Smith. 1 do. {Ferry, surprised, stops and looks 
 at him. Smith indicates easy-chair, as he comes 
 across to lozver side of table) Sit down. 
 
 Perry. {Irritably) I'm too busy to sit down. 
 {Paces R. doggedly angry) 
 
 Smith. Abraham Lincoln once said 
 
146 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Perry. (Emphatically but not stopping or looking 
 at Smith) Don't tell me what he said. His wife 
 never dragged him out to a tango. 
 
 Smith. And he never tried to make the whole 
 world eat corn, either. Perry, the great trouble 
 with you is, everything you do you do too fast. (He 
 seats Perry gently but firmly on the chair) Sit 
 down. (Perry tries to rise but Smith places his 
 hand on Perry's head and pushes him back) Perry, 
 when I put you, stay put. (Removes hand from 
 his head but holds it a few inches above head) 
 
 Perry. (Face all screwed up) Now look here, 
 George . 
 
 Smith. What you need is calmness — and I'm 
 going to give it to you. (Picks up metrenome from 
 the table) 
 
 Perry. Listen, George 
 
 Smith. Fve been listening to you all evening, 
 even in my dreams. From now on, you're going to 
 listen to me. (To Agnes who enters from bed- 
 room and is going tozvards dining-room) Agnes, 
 heat some milk — the hotter the better. 
 
 Agnes. How much, sir? 
 
 Smith. A quart. 
 
 (Exit Agnes, after glancing at Perry.) 
 
 Perry. I didn't come here to drink hot milk ! 
 (Smith begins to zmnd up metrenome) Wliat's that 
 thing? 
 
 Smith. A life saver! (Exhibiting metrenome) 
 That helped to make me what I am. And look at 
 me! That is my equator. (Pats his stomach 
 proudly, and smiles at himself. Perry looks at 
 Smith's stomach, then glances at his own. Smith 
 runs his fingers through his hair, on top of head and 
 holds up a handful of hair proudly by ends) And 
 look at that! (Instinctively Perry puts his hand on 
 top of his own head to imitate Smith. He raises 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 147 
 
 his fingers from head, as if to hold up some hair, 
 but there is no hair to hold up) Have you looked 
 at yourself lately? 
 
 L'lkrv. Haven't had time. 
 
 Smith. {Offering him the met rename) Hold this 
 a moment. ( Perry takes the metrenome and 
 Smith goes to bed-room door) Jennie, may I 
 please have your hand-mirror? (He then opens the 
 door) 
 
 (The moment the door is opened, Marjorie 
 screams; Perry springs to his feet, metrenome 
 in hand. The door is quickly slammed in 
 Smith's face.) 
 
 1'eurv. [Anxiously, after the door is slammed 
 shut) What's the matter? 
 
 Smith. Your v^dfe is making herself comfortable. 
 ( ji:i\i\iE opens the bed-room door a few inches, 
 gives Smith a hand mirror, closes the door. Smith, 
 coming down zvith mirror, motions to Perry to sit 
 dozun. Petulantly like a boy obeying against his 
 will, he sits in easy-chair. At r. side of chair — • 
 offering Perry the mirror) Look at yourself, 
 (Perry takes mirror and looks at himself pathet- 
 ically. With sincerity) Sanitariums are being 
 built every day for just such men as you. And lots 
 and lots of the boys that go into them never come 
 out. I was in one, Perry — ten long weeks — after I 
 left the chicken farm. Some of the boys — the older 
 boys — didn't get out. {Then — patting Perry lightly 
 on shoulder) It's hell, Perry. Hell! Jennie 
 helped me — now Tm going to help you. {Starts the 
 metrenome pendulum and takes it to the table) 
 
 Perry. {Looking dubiously at Smith, zvho is 
 placing metrenome on the table. Smith stands at 
 lower side of table) That's very sweet of you, 
 George, but I think I'd rather go to a sanitarium. 
 (Rises cautiously, eyes fixed on Smith's back and 
 looks as if he were planning to escape) 
 
148 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Smith. (Suddenly facing him) Take off your 
 coat. Take it off. (Perry removes the coat. 
 Smith then takes off his own jacket, and puts it on 
 Perry. Puts Perry's coat on himself, then goes to 
 metrenome and picks it up. Throughout the follow- 
 ing, he unconsciously imitates Jennie — he stops the 
 pendulum, then — ) Now we'll begin. (Starts 
 pendulum) 
 
 Perry. George, let's stop this nonsense and get 
 down to business. The hulled-corn business 
 
 (Smith takes him gently by the arm, and he pauses. 
 They are now at l. of lozver side of table and 
 facing it. Smith places metrenome on table.) 
 
 Smith. (Perry, hereafter, when you talk — (In 
 time zvith the metrenome) Talk — like — the — met — 
 re — nome. When you walk — (Lets go of Perry's 
 arm and paces r. slowly) Walk — like — the — met — 
 re— nome. (Facing Perry, who is ivat chin g him 
 closely) When you think — (Striking a meditative 
 pose) Think — like — the — met — re — nome. (Then, 
 as he returns to him, in time) If — you — don't — 
 give — it— a — chance — I'll — wring — your — bias — ted 
 — neck. 
 
 Perry. (Persuasively. They are now face to 
 face) Now listen, George — if I do everything like 
 that — (Indicating metrenome) I'll go crazy. 
 
 Smith. You'll go to sleep, and that's exactly 
 what you need — lots of good wholesome sleep at 
 regular hours. Begin — (Takes hold of his arm and 
 begins to mark time zvith feet) One— two — three — 
 four — (Sternly, to Perry, zvho isn't marking time) 
 Begin! (Emphatically. He has kept right on 
 marking time) One — two — three — four. (Perry 
 makes a wry face and begins to mark time on 
 " tzvo." He is awkzvard at first but soon gets ac- 
 customed to the rhythm) One — two — three- — four. 
 March! (As they cross r.) One — two — three — 
 four— One — two — three — four. Count ! 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 149 
 
 Perry. Five — six — seven — eight — Five — six — 
 seven — eight. {They arc now at r. zvall) 
 
 Smith. Keep time! 
 
 Perry. (Petulant) But 
 
 Smith. Re^ — verse 1 (Perry attempts to reverse 
 quickly but Smith yanks him back and begins to 
 count) One — two — three — four. Mind] (They 
 begin to reverse) 
 
 Perry. {As they are reversing) Five — six — 
 seven — eight. Vm nearly dead. 
 
 Smith. Shut up ! March! {They start l.) One 
 — two — three — four. 
 
 Perry. For — God's — sake — who — told — you — to 
 — do — this ? 
 
 Smith. The — doctor—— 
 
 Perry. Who — told— him ? 
 
 Smith. My — wife. 
 
 Perry. Who — told — her? 
 
 Smith. No — bod — y — tells— her — any — thing — 
 She — knows — ever^y — thing — in — stinc — tive — ly. 
 
 Perry. Re — verse. 
 
 Smith. {As they reverse, near l. tvall) One- 
 two — three — four. 
 
 Perry. Five — six — seven — eight. Can't— I — sit 
 — down ? 
 
 Smith. (.-^^' they cross r. ) No! The — best — 
 thing — to — -make— a — man — for — get — his — busi- 
 ness — is — a — ba— by. 
 
 Perry. I— wish — I — had — one, — George. 
 
 Smith. Re — verse. 
 
 Perry. {As they reverse, near r. zvall) Five — 
 six — seven — eight. I — al — wavs — want — ed — a — ba 
 -by. 
 
 Smith. {They cross l. during follozving) Why 
 — don't — you — get — one ? 
 
 Perry. Be — cause — my — wife — is — out — ev — er 
 — ry — night — play — ing — bridge. 
 
 Smith. Re — verse! 
 
J50 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Pekrv. (As they reverse) One — two — three — 
 four. 
 
 (Re-enter Agnes, from dining-room. She carries 
 a tray upon zvhich is a large pitcher of hot milk, 
 and a tumbler — also carries a long freshly 
 ironed zvhite baby's dress. She places the tray 
 on table and paying no attention to the tzvo 
 men, goes into bedroom, closing door.) 
 
 Smith. (As they cross r. ) Why— don't — you — 
 make — your — wife — stay— home ? 
 
 Perry. How — can — I — when— I — ne — ver^ — 
 
 stay — home — my sel f . 
 
 Smith. (Now at k. wall) Re — verse. 
 
 (As they reverse — enter Marjorie and Jennie 
 from bed-room. Marjorie is now clad in a 
 pretty house dress — one of Jennie's — and in 
 pretty house slippers. Marjorie is struck 
 dumb zvith terror zvhcn she sees Perry, but 
 [ennie takes in the situation. The men do not 
 see them enter.) 
 
 Perry. (As they reverse) One — two — three — • 
 four. 
 
 Marjorie. (Frightened) Perry! (Rushes to- 
 zvard him. He turns his head slozvly, in time zvith 
 metrenome and looks at her blankly. She stops 
 near table, horrified) Perry! 
 
 Perry. (Pacing l. zvith Smith) Hell — o — Mar 
 - — jor — ie. 
 
 (As he talks, he smiles, slowly and mechanically, as 
 if keeping time to the metrenome. The men, 
 now quite near Marjorie, halt. Perry con- 
 tinues to mark time to metrenome, but Smith 
 stands still) 
 
 Marjorie. (To Smith— ^/^^ is all zvrought up) 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 15^ 
 
 AMiat's happened to him, Grorge? Tell me! Please! 
 Is he hurt? Is he sick? 
 
 Perry. (As before and marking time) Do — I— 
 look — sick? 
 
 Smith. (Gravely) Your husband is on the 
 verge of a nervous breakdown. 
 
 Marjorie. I knew something was the matter 
 Avith him! 
 
 Smith. He is tottering between a sanitarium 
 and the grave. 
 
 (Marjorie covers face zvith hands and sobs quietly. 
 Perry stops marking time and Jennie comes to 
 Marjorie to comfort her.) 
 
 Jennie. Don't cry, dear. 
 
 Perry. I'm all right. 
 
 Smith. (Firmly to Perry — beginning to mark 
 time) One — two — three — four. March! 
 
 Perry. (As they march r.) Five — six — seven — - 
 eight. 
 
 Smith. [They are nozv in front of easy-chair) 
 Halt! 
 
 Perry. (Marking time, in front of chair) One— 
 t wo — three — four. 
 
 Smith. Sit — down. 
 
 Perry. (Backing his back around to front of 
 easy-chair) Five — six — seven — eight. 
 
 Smith. Sit. 
 
 Perry. (As he lozvers himself slozvly into chair) 
 Down. 
 
 Marjorie. (Eagerly, yet tenderly, to Smith, go- 
 ing toward him) Is there anything I can do for 
 him? 
 
 Perry. (Reassuringly, as he settles back com- 
 fortably in chair) I'm — all — right. 
 
 (Marjorie glances at him and he slozvly smiles the 
 " metrenome " smile. ) 
 
iS2 WHAT'S WRONG. 
 
 Marjorie. Isn't there something I can do? 
 Anything ! 
 Smith. Yes. 
 Marjorie. What? 
 
 (Smith glances at Perry then takes Marjorie 
 gently by the arm and starts gravely across r.) 
 
 Perry. One — two — three — four — I — can't — stop 
 —at — all — now. 
 
 {Instinctively Smith slackens his natural gait to fit 
 the metrenome's rhythm and Marjorie fol- 
 lows suit. They take two steps in metrenome 
 time. Jennie is at table, filling a tumbler with 
 hot milk, sees their predicament and stops the 
 metrenome's pendulum. Smith and Marjorie 
 then resume their natural gait.) 
 
 Marjorie. Tell me. What can I do to help him? 
 
 Jennie. (Quietly) George. (He looks at her. 
 She picks up tumbler of hot milk, starts toward 
 him. He meets her and she gives him the tumbler. 
 She then feels of it, as she felt of the baby's bottle) 
 [ust right — not too warm. 
 
 (Smith goes to Perry and Jennie to Marjorie.) 
 
 Jennie. (To Marjorie) Do you really want to 
 help your husband? 
 
 Marjorie. Of course I do! And I want George 
 to tell me how. 
 
 Jennie. I will tell you how. 
 
 Smith. (Imitating Jennie by feeling tumbler 
 which he has just handed to Perry) Just right — 
 not too warm. 
 
 (During the folloiving Perry sips milk slowly and 
 between sips smiles contendedly front.) 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. 153 
 
 Marjorie. (Impatiently, as Jennie escorts her 
 R.) Tell me, Jennie! Tell me I How can I help 
 Perry! 
 
 Jennie. (Confidentially and very seriously) Go 
 and see " What's Wrong " at the Belasco Theatre. 
 
 Marjorie. But I want to know now — right now. 
 
 (Jennie glances at the two men. They are not 
 listening. ) 
 
 Jennie. What is your position on the baby ques- 
 tion? (Marjorie is puzzled. Smith begins to 
 unlace one of Perry's shoes) Are you in favor of 
 babies or against them? 
 
 Marjorie. (Very much puzzled — after slight 
 pause) Why? 
 
 (Perry is oblivious to everything but his hot milk, 
 which he is enjoying.) 
 
 Jennie. George. 
 
 Smith. Yes, dear. 
 
 Jennie. Will you please let Perry hold our baby 
 a while? 
 
 Smith. (Very sweetly — an object lesson to 
 Perry) Yes, dear. (Goes off for baby) 
 
 Jennie. George knows what the tired business 
 man neds. 
 
 (Re-enter Smith with the baby. Baby has on its 
 new bonnet and the wonderful dress Agnes 
 carried into the bedroom. Jennie meets 
 Smith near easy-chair and he gives her the 
 baby.) 
 
 Jennie. (To Perry) Would you like to hold 
 her, or shall I send for the basanet ? 
 
 (Perry, his face beaming, holds out his arms and 
 
M U%i 
 
 ,54 WHATS WRONG. 
 
 takes the baby. He smiles at it, then draws it 
 Howh and affectionately closer. Every one 
 watches him. Smith smiles the sympathetic 
 unile of a man who knows the wonderful joys 
 of fatherhood. Agnes is smiling the smile^ of 
 a proud nurse girl. Marjorie is not smiling. 
 She is marvelling at the happy expression on 
 her husband's face as he gazes doivn at the 
 little bundle in his arms. It is an expres- 
 sion she never saw before, and her own 
 expression shoivs that she understands. ^ M h 
 K N O JV S. A pause.) 
 
 Perry Isn't it great! I would rather have a 
 little girl like you, than all the money in the world. 
 
 (] 
 
 :nnie and Smith glance sigmficantly at 
 Marjorie, as much as to say: Well its up 
 to you now! " Then Marjorie goes slozvly to 
 Pfkry and lays her hand gently upon his 
 shoulder. Slight pause, during zvhich Marjorie 
 and Perry ga-e into each other's eyes, txtt 
 Agnes, quietly, bedroom.) 
 
 Martorie. Perry, let's not go to Europe! 
 tired out. It's too much for you. 
 George. 
 Yes. 
 
 Tm not going to Europe. 
 Where are you going? 
 
 Home. ^ , o ^^1 
 
 Aren't you afraid of the Seattle 
 
 You're al 
 Perry. 
 Smith 
 Perry. 
 Smith 
 Perry. 
 Smith 
 
 Spirit 
 
 . ..., J I had a little fairy like this -waiting 
 for me at home. I'd not be afraid of anything. {Me 
 looks at Marjorie and she takes his face gently be- 
 tween her hands and kisses him) 
 
 (JENNIE, at folding doors, opens them a trifle, peeps 
 
WHAT'S WRONG. I55 
 
 in, sees that dinner is ready, then throzvs the 
 doors zvide open. Tillie is dressed for service 
 and the table is beautifully set for four people 
 — decorated with country flowers and the 
 shaded candles are lighted.) 
 
 Jennie. Dinner is ready! 
 (Perry rises with the baby in his arms, and 
 escorted by Marjorie starts toward dining- 
 room. Smith turns out the lamp on table, 
 then goes up. The living room is now dark 
 and the dining-room brilliantly lighted. Out- 
 side the country insects are having a merry 
 time. ) 
 
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