T.^.DENISON & COJIPANY CHICAdO • >.p^ DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS Partial List of Successful and Popular Plays. Large Catalogue Free. Price ISc eacli. Postpaid, Unless Dlffere'ht Price Is Given DRAMAS, COMEDIES, ENTERTAINMENTS, Etc. M. F. Aaron Boggs, Freshman, 3 acts, 2y2 hrs (25c) 8 8 After the Game, 2 acts, 1>4 hrs (25 4 Indian Days, 1 hr (5bc) 5 2 In Plum Valley, 4 acts, 2^4 hrs ,..(25c) 6 4 Iron Hand, 4 acts, 2 hrs. . (25c) 5 4 Jayville Junction, 11/2 hrs. (25c) 14 17 Kingdom of Heart's Content, 3 acts, 234 hrs (25c) 6 12 Lexington, 4 acts, 2J4 h. . (25c) 9 4 Light Brigade, 40 min (25c) 10 Little Buckshot, 3 acts, 2J4 hrs. (25c) 7 4 Lodge of Kye Tyes, 1 hr.(25c)13 Lonelvville Social Club, 3 acts, I'K hrs (25c) 10 Man from Borneo, 3 acts, 2 hrs •..(25c) S 2 Man from Nevada, 4 acts, 2^/^ hrs (25c) 9 5 Mirandy's Minstrels (25c) Optnl. New Woman, 3 acts, 1 hr 3 6 Old Maid's Club, IJ^ hrs. (25c) 2 16 Old Oaken Bucket, 4 acts, 2 hrs (25c) 8 6 Old School at Hick'ry Holler, 1^ hrs (25c) 12 9 On the Little Big Horn, 4 acts, 21/^ hrs (25c) 10 4 Out in the Streets, 3 acts, 1 hr. 6 4 Prairie Rose, 4 acts, 2J^ hrs. (25c) 7 f: Rustic Rom.eo, 2 acts, 2^ hrs (25c) 10 12 School Ma'am, 4 acts, 1^ hrs. 6 5 Scrap of Paper, 3 acts, 2 hrs.. 6 6 Soldier of Fortune, 5 acts, 2% h. 8 3 Southern Cinderella, 3 acts, 2 hrs (25c) 7 Third Degree, 40 min (25c) 12 Those Dreadful Twins, 3 acts, 2 hrs (25c) 6 4 Tony, The Convict, 5 acts, 2^^ , hrs (25c) 7 4 Topp's Twins, 4 acts, 2 h.(25c) 6 4 Town Marshal, 4 acts, 2'/^ hrs (25c) 6 3 Trip to Storyland, 1^ hrs. (25c) 17 23 Uncle Josh, 4 acts, 2^ hrs. (25c) 8 3 Under Blue Skies, 4 acts, 2 hrs ■ (2Sc) 7 10 Under the Laurels, 5 acts, 2 hrs. 6 4 When the Circus Came to Town, 3 acts, 2^4 hrs. (25c) 5 3 Women Who Did, 1 hr. . . (25c) 17 Yankee Detective, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 8 3 FARCESr COMEDIETAS. Etc. April Fools, 30 min 3 Assessor, The, 10 min '. 3 2 Baby Show at Pineville, 20 min. 19 Bad Job, 30 min 3 2 Betsy Baker, 45 min 2 2 Billy's Chorus Girl, 25 min... 2 3 Billy's Mishap, 20 min. ...... 2 3 Borrowed Luncheon, 20 min. . 5 Borrowing Trouble, 20 min.... 3 5 Box and Cox, 35 min 2 1 Case Against Casey, 40 miri... 23 Convention of Papas, 25 min.. 7 Country Justice, 15 min 8 . Cow that Kicked Chicago, 20 m. 3 2 1 T.S.DENISON&COMPANY,Publishers,154W.RandolphSt.. Chicago The Deacon Entangled A COMEDY HARRY OSBORNE AUTHOR OF 'A Home Run," "After the Play. CHICAGO T. S. DENISON & COMPANY Publishers P5 35?.^ THE DEACON ENTANGLED CHARACTERS. Deacon Penrose A Member in Good Standing, Calvin Spangler (called Cal) His Nephew Rev. Dr. Soppier A Strong Supporter of Foreign Missions Harry Baxter A Sporting Writer Mr. Rafferty A Policeman A Plain Clothes Man Mrs. Penrose Ruth Her Daughter Georgie Soppier Dr. Sophers Daughter Katy The Maid at the Penrose Household Time of Playing — About Tzvo Hours. Time — The Present. Act I — At Deacon Penrose's, late afternoon. Act H — The same, the next morning. x\cT HI — The same, afternoon. Note — Production of this play is free to amateurs, but the sole professional rights are reserved by the author, who may be addressed in care of the Publishers. COPYRIGH*r, 1912, BY HARRY W. OSBORNE. copyright, 1914, BY EBEN H. NORRIS. %t^ '5L4 7294 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. STORY OF THE PLAY. 1^ Everyone supposed Calvin Spangler was going to study TV. for the nynistry, so when he drops in upon his astonished Chicago relatives and turns out to be a slangy hero of the diamond, he gets a varied reception. Cal is a pitcher de luxe and also a clean-up clouter. In other words, when the game is close and a hit means a run, he is rushed into the battle and usually comes through with a hit. ^ His first "error" is to fall in love with the minister's 9 daughter. Then, in attempting to show his Uncle, the Dea- g con, a good time, they are arrested and the Deacon spends ^ the night in a cell. Scandal is imminent — disaster im- ^ pends — Auntie goes on the war path. ^ The big day of the crucial game arrives. Nearly every- N body's reputation and peace of mind depends upon the <1 outcome. Here it is, in the hair-raising tenth inning, that Cal unlimbers his trusty pitching arm and also delivers the timely punch that saves the day for all concerned. He proves, in the end, that he is a pinch hitter in the affairs of real life as well as upon the diamond. "The ministry's all right. I'm not knocking it as a pro- fession, but you can never see your name in big headlines in that business unless you steal the contribution box or run ofif with a 'fairy' in the choir." CHARACTERS AND COSTUMES. Deacon — A dignified sweet old man of sixty years. Slow of speech, absent-minded, entertaining great respect for his wife mixed with some fear. He wears a modern business suit of conservative cut and pattern. Smooth face, iron gray hair. Calvin — A young athlete twenty-two years old. Has a ruddy, tanned complexion and a grip that makes everyone wince when he shakes hands. In first act he is immacu- lately dressed in a light suit of extreme cut, shoes in fancy uppers, soft hat of about the same shade as the suit. 4 THE DEACOxN ENTANGLED. Wears a fancy vest with diamond pin in his neck scarf. He carries a light cane and must be spick and span from top to toe. Talks loud and fast. SoPHER — Middle-aged, bald, smooth shaven except for a pair of short ministerial side whiskers. He has a self- satisfied manner, suave and courteous. Talks in a monoto- nous tone. He w,ears the conventional black garb and carries an umbrella. Harry — A wide awake young sporting writer about twenty-two years old. Light suit, no vest, straw hat. It is not necessary but better to have a stout person play this part. It will add meaning when Ruth refers to a "good strong ladder" in the second act. Rafferty — A young, stout Irish policeman. Smooth face, speaks with rich brogue and wears regulation police uniform. Plain Clothes Man — He and Rafiferty may double if necessary. He wears a short, dark mustache. Plain busi- ness suit' with star inside his coat. Speaks short and quick. Mrs. Penrose — She is forty-seven years old, very prac- tical, severe of countenance, vinegary but good at heart. She speaks authoritatively. Wears dark-colored summer dress. Ruth — Twenty years old, pretty and vivacious. She is at the romantic age but inclined to put on_ ''young lady" airs. Wears her hair done up. Is dressed in a light sum- mer frock. Georgie — Eighteen years old. pretty and charming. Wears her hair in braid or with a bow. Her face is full of suppressed mischief. She is dressed in fluflfy school girl fashion. Katy — A rosy cheeked Irish lassie, nineteen years old. Speaks with a brogue and wears little white apron over a blue checked dress and a white cap on her head. THE DEACOX ENTANGLED. PROPERTY LIST. Act I — Box of candy on table for Ruth. Kimona for Mrs. Penrose. Telegram for Deacon. Umbrella for So- ■phcr. Suitcase for Calvin. Bracelet for Georgie. Roll of bills for Calvin. Act II — Newspaper for Katy. Currency for Deacon and Calvin. Tray, coffee pot, cups and saucers, toast, etc., for Katy. Marriage license for Harry. Two rolls of bills for Calvin. Check book for Deacon. Pencil for Calvin. Roll of bills for Mrs. Penrose. Large envelope for Deacon. Act III — Sporting extra for stage hand. Old-fashioned horse pistol for Deacon. Canes and peimants for Ruth, Georgie and Harry. Roll of bills for Calvin. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. SCENE PLOT. Act L Hall Eacking Cha Table ChairO l | D Chair Acts II and III I f—i Table with J_ '— ' Clock Chair r n nelephcne , 1 7 Chair n I |n Lar-je Table STAGE DIRECTIONS. R means right of the stage; C, center; R. C, right cen- ter; L., left; 1 E.^ first entrance; U. E., upper entrance; R. 3 E., right entrance, up stage, etc.; 7^. D., right door; L. D., left door, etc. ; D. F., door in flat or back of the stage ; up stage, away from footlights ; down stage, near footlights ; 1 G., first groove, etc. The actor is supposed to be facing the audience. THE DEACON ENTANGLED Act L Scene: Living room of Deacon Penrose, late after- noon. Double doors at back, center, leading into hall Double windows at right. Door in left wall. Table zvith reading lamp down right. Piano at left below door. Room furnished in comfortable well-to-do manner. As soon as footlights are on, piano is heard on stage until rise. Pade- rezvski's Minuet is being laboriously practiced, with fre- quent mistakes. At rise Ruth discovered at piano, the metronome going with fiendish exactness. Her time is atrocious and, exas- perated, she snaps the metronome into fast time and starts playing a rattling popular tune zvith a vim. Mrs. p. {ojf stage, shrilly). Ruth! Ruth! Ruth (slozving dozvn). Yes, mamma. Mrs. p. {ojf). You're wasting your time. Now practice hard so you'll catch up and be ready for boarding-school. Ruth {bangs a chord noisilv). Bother boarding-school. Mrs. p. {off). If your father could hear you! He pays fifty cents apiece for those music lessons! (Ruth changes to slozv^ hymn air zvhicli she plays zvith intentional drag and zvith dirge-like solemnity.) _ Georgie Sopher enters on tiptoe at center door and listens a moment. Georgie {chanting). Hark, from the tomb a doleful sound. Ruth (runs to her and embraces her, C). Oh, Georgie, when did you come in? Georgie. On the second stanza, I think. But say — oh you — you — what's all this I hear about boarding-school? You lucky girl. Ruth (sighinc/). Lucky j' oh — Mrs. p. {off). Ru-ooth! 7 8 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Ruth (jumps up nervously and runs to piano). Wait (to Georgie), IVe got five minutes more (starts metro- nome). Come over close — we can talk just the same. (Georgie settles herself eagerly for confidential chat and during the folloiving Ruth plays softly with occasional blunders.) Georgie. Of course you're lucky. I'd give my hat to go to boarding-school. Ruth. Why don't you ask your father again. Perhaps he'll— Georgie (slangily). No chance. A minister's "no" means (waz'ing hand) nix! Ruth. So does a deacon's and papa said no at first. Georgie (eagerly). How did you ever persuade him? Ruth. Persuade him? I didn't. Mamma did — and now they're both, anxious. (Sighs.) Georgie. Anxious ? Ruth (shyly). Yes; on account of Harry. Georgie (understanding). C3h-h-h. Harry Baxter. (Ruth nods.) Oh, isn't that romantic! [She hugs Ruth ecstatically. Ruth plays on with one hand.) Ruth. I happened into the room when they were talk- ing and heard just enough before they saw me. Georgie. That finishing-school will just about spell Harry's finish, won't it? Ruth, Yes, that's their plan. But it won't; PU never give him up. (IVa.ving dramatic, then sadly.) Not seeing me for a whole year will test his devotion, don't you think ? Georgie (fervently). Yes, I only wish I were going away and had someone to test, Ruth (jumps up and running to table brings Georgie a candy box and together they munch chocolates.) Oh, say, Pve got something else to tell you. (Hands bo.r.) Have some candy. Harry sent it. Georgie (laughing). Um-m ; that is sweet news. Ruth. No, no ; that's not it. (Importantly.) My cousin will be here soon. Maybe you'll like him. Georgie. What cousin? What's he like? Ruth. I don't know Trrv much about him. He lives in THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 9 some little town in Iowa — Harrisville — no, it's got some- thing to do with music. Oh, I remember — Harmony; that's it — Harmony, Iowa, and he's an orphan. . Georgie. All right so far. Does he go to college or work? Ruth. Well, father thinks he's coming here to study for the ministry. Georgie. The ministry? Ruth. Yes. - Georgie. That settles him. RuTii. Why? Georgie. One minister's enough in the family. Besides, 1 want a real boy — a boy with a cane and a bulldog and a cigarette. Someone I'll have to tame, not one that'll try to tame me. Enter Mrs. P., left door, ivith partly made short ki- uiona for Ruth. Georgie jumps ftervouslw Ruth starts to play, hilt remembers her allotted time is past. Takes the clock instead, shakes it and sets it prominently on the piano where her mother can see it. Mrs. p. (maj'estically). How do you do, Georgie. (Changing.) Ruth, slip this on over your dress. I want to see if it's large enough. (Same business.) And how is your father, Georgie? Georgie (/// at ease). Quite well, thank you. Er — Mrs. Penrose— -you see I'm here again. Mrs. p. (dryly). Yes, I see. Has Ruth been telling you about — (arranging kimona on Ruth, C). Georgie (interrupting). About boarding-school? Yes; and it makes me just wild to go away, too. However did you make up your mind to let her go? Mrs. p. (non-committingly). We thought it best for her. (Pins kimona together viciously.) Ruth. Ouch! Mother, I'm under that! Oh, mother, I don't want to go. It costs so much, and — Mrs. p. Oh, I daresay your father will manage it some- how. Georgie. Yes, Deacon Penrose is awfully generous. 10 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Wasn't it fine of him to pledge that thousand dollars for the new pipe organ? Mrs. p. {indicating that this is a sore subject zvith her). Yes, too bad the church couldn't raise the other thousand ; so his offer doesn't count, after all. I guess that's all right. Now take it off. Look out for the needle! (Ruth does so,) Georgie. How disappointed the Deacon must have been. Oh, here he comes now. Enter Deacon P., center door. Ruth. Father! (She runs to him. He pats her shoul- der.) . Deacon. My sentimental little sunbeam. Ah, Miss Geor- gie, how are you ? And — er — how is your father ? Georgie. Both well, thanks. (She and Ruth talk up- stage.) Deacon (to his zuife). My dear, I have good news. The telegram I have been expecting — Mrs. p. From your nephew? (Ruth and Georgie run dozvn to Deacon, Ruth fling- ing kimona on chair left of table.) Deacon. Has arrived (taking it from pocket) and he himself will arrive sometime today. Ruth (to Georgie). Isn't that fine? Now you can meet him. Georgie. Fine and dandy. Mrs. p. Tell Katy to have the east room ready. Ruth. All right. Come on, Georgie, and see my board- ing-school outfit. I've got the dearest little pair of lace- edged — Mrs. p. Ruth! (The Deacon pretends not to notice.) Ruth (zvith cool stare of injured innocence). Hand- kerchiefs! (She goes out left door, head high in the air. Georgie following, stuffing her handkerchief in her mouth.) Deacon (preparing to sit left of table). I trust we may be able to make my poor sister's boy feel perfectly at home — THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 11 Mrs. p. Silas Penrose, don't sit on my sewing. You'll wish you hadn't. (Deacon straightens up quickly zvitJiout sitting.) Pll take care of your nephew when he comes; but Pm worried now about another matter. Deacon. Worried, my dear — about what? Mrs. p. {mimicking him). ''About what?" About that thousand dollars you pledged yourself to give for that wretched pipe-organ. Deacon. But it wasn't a wretched pipe-organ, my love. It was to be a very line pipe-organ. Still, never mind. The congregation couldn't raise the other thousand. [Smiles happily.) Mrs. p. {stands leaning over table. Solemnly). You are sure? Deacon {alarmed). You haven't heard anything? Mrs. p. Doctor Sopher telephoned he would be over to see you about it this afternoon — and, I'm afraid of that man. Deacon. Afraid of Dr. Sopher? Mrs. p. Yes, that man can coax money out of a wooden Indian. Why in the name of common-sense did you ever make such an offer? Deacon. You can't deny that the church needs a pipe- organ ? Mrs. p. (sharply). And you can't deny that we' need the thousand dollars. Oh, dear, and we must send Ruth away to school. That Baxter boy worries me to death. She's too young for such foolishness. Oh, why did you do such a thing at such a time? Deacon. It was thoughtless, my dear ; but Providence has tempered the shorn lamb to the wind. They can't raise the other thousand and my offer is null and void. So now it's all over, and — Enter Katy, C. door — very Irish. Katy. Th' Rivrind Docthor Sopher. {Exit Katy C. door.) Mrs. p. Now I warn you, Silas Penrose, don't give him any encouragement. 12 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Deacon {between two fires and nervous). No, no, my dear; certainly not; certainly not — ahem. Enter Dr. Sopher C. door. SoPHER {greeting Mrs. P. near door). And how do you do, Mrs. Penrose. How extremely well you're look- ing. {Coming down to Deacon, ivho has gone up a little.) Deacon, how fortunate I am in finding you in. {They shake hands.) Deacon {nervously). Yes, yes, of course; Pm glad to see you. Mrs. p. Won't you be seated? PU take your hat and umbrella. Sopher. Pray don't bother. I can tarry only for a brief moment. I have come to see you about a matter which I trust may bring even more happiness to you both than the perfect bliss I feel at this instant. Ouch ! {As he sits on the sezving. Both the Deacon and Mrs. P. have seen what zi'as coming and tried to prevent his sitting, but he gets there first — so does the needle. Sopher, rising with looks of anguish). A-ah ! {Cautiously removes the needle.) Mrs. p. {contritely jerking up sezving and looking for needle.) Oh, Doctor, my sewing. Pm afraid there is a needle in it. SoPHER {reproachfully, laying needle on the table). There' zvas. Permit me to return it, madam. Mrs. p. {shocked). Oh, Pm so sorry. SoPHER {heroically) . It .is nothing — nothing. {But he does riot sit again.) As I was saying — the point I was about to make — well — that is, I wanted to tell you about — Enter Katy, C. D. Katy. Misther Baxter has called to see Miss Ruth. Mrs. p. Didn't you tell him she wasn't in ? Katy. Oi told him Oi wasn't sure till Oi sav/ yez. Deacon {kindly but hesitating). Perhaps, my dear, as this is the last time — she is going away, you know — Mrs. p. {relenting but impatient). You may ask Ruth to receive him. Katy. Yis, mum. {Exit C. D.) THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 13 Mrs. p. (to Deacon). But this must be the last time. SornEK (at C. tvith hands clasped behind Jiis back and occasionally 7'ising on tiptoes as he talks. Mrs. P. sits R., Deacon L.). As I was about to remark, you both know what an interest I have taken in raising the money for the new pipe-organ. Mrs. p. (hastily). Yes, of course. Before I forget, Mr. Penrose has something of interest to tell yon. SoPHER. Ah, indeed. Deacon (at a loss, not kuozcing what she means). Oh, yes ; certainly ; Pm glad you reminded me, my dear. Mrs. p. Mr. Penrose's nepliew from Iowa is coming to pay us a visit. Deacon '(hurriedly). I expect him today. In fact he should be here now unless he's been delayed. SoPHER. Ah, I never heard you speak of your nephew. Deacon. Perhaps not. I haven't seen him since he was a small boy. But from his letter I have a strong convic- tion that he is coming here to study for the ministry. SoPHER. That sounds very promising. Deacon. Yes, he said something about the ''field" be- ing the place for him. That he was most ambitious. I didn't understand all of it. He was probably much excited over the prospect of entering upon his life work. SoPHER. Doubtless. And as I was about to say — Deacon (hastily). You see, Calvin — that's his name — Calvin. SoPHER. Calvin? Deacon. Yes, Calvin — Calvin Spangler. He had a deeply religious mother and we both hoped he would be called to the ministry. SopiiER. I see. And his father? Deacon (sighs). His father. Ah, he never amounted to much, although he did make considerable money at one time. He had something to do with horses and racing. SoPHER (shocked). Oh! Deacon. Yes, most deplorable. But we shall try to make Calvin think us ignorant of that side of the family history. Doubtless the poor boy will feel at first timid and 14 THE DEACON EXTAXGLED. sensitive, but we shall do our best to overcome any natural shyness or reserve he may have. SoPiiER. Of course. Coming from a small town into a place full of strangers, he will probably be a little bashful at first. I will be glad to welcome the young man and help him to feel at home in our midst. Now, as to the — •Mrs. p. (rising). Did you know Georgie was here? I'll tell her. She may leave. Soppier. Thank you, Mrs. Penrose ; but ah, just a mo- ment. First I want you to hear the good news. At last we have the pipe-organ ! Mrs. p. What? (The Deacon gasps, then eougJis.) Deacon. I — I don't believe I quite understand. Sopher (zvith sympathy). No, I suppose you had really given up all hope. Deacon (pulling himself together zvith a glimmer of hope). But — but the congregation hasn't raised the other thousand. SoPHER (easily). All but one hundred and fifty dollars, which the organ company have generously agreed need not be paid until the second installment is due — interest at six per cent. Deacon (da::ed, collapses). Why — why, it hardly seems possible. Soppier (rubbing his hands). Ah, but it is. It has all been paid but your thousand now. And, if convenient, I'd like to deposit that not later than tomorrow. Deacon (dumbfounded). Tomorrow? SoPHER. Yes, you see it's all settled. I have lent my signature to the contract and the organ is ours. Mrs. p. (overcome) . I'll — I'll tell Georgie you are here. (Exit Mrs. P. L. door.) SoPHER (after bowing to Mrs. P.). Ah, Deacon, the pipe-organ is now a blessed reality. (Rubbing his hands.) Deacon. You're right. It's very — er — real to me now. Sopher. It will be a blessing to all of us. Deacon. I suppose that's the v/ay to look at it. SoPHER (impulsively holding out hand). Penrose, I congratulate you. THE DE.\COX ENTAXGLED. 15 Deacon (luouni fully gk'ing limp hand). On what? SoPiiER. Why, on being so successful in your generosity. Deacon (dryly). Thanks. I fear I wouldn't have been without your assistance. Enter Georgie and Mrs. P. L. door, followed by Harry Baxter and Ruth. Georgie. Must we go now, papa? Sopher. Yes, my dear ; very soon. Ah, good afternoon. Miss Ruth. (Shakes hands.) Ruth. Dr. Sopher, have you met my friend, Mr. Bax- ter? Sopher (looking him over). Ah, doubtless, doubtless. I have a poor memory for names, but surely I have seen this young man's face in my congregation. (Shakes hand.) Harry (evading the question, effusively). Glad to know you, sir — glad to know you. Sopher. Did you ever attend my young men's Bible class? Harry (embarrassed). Well — er — not so far. Sopher (enthusiastically). It meets in the west parlors directly after the service. You will find much that is help- ful and inspiring. Harry (exaggerating his gratitude). Thank you, sir. Thank you — er — pardon me a moment. (Harry crosses R. to girls, iviping perspiring^ face.) Awfully warm here — er — that is — nice day, isn't it? Georgie. Did you know Ruth's cousin was coming? Harry. No. What cousin? Ruth. My cousin from Iowa. He's a lovely boy. Harry (jealous). I never knew you had a cousin. Ruth. Well, you see we learn every day. Harry (viciously). I hope you'll like him. Ruth. I do already. His name's Calvin. Harry (disgusted). Calvin! Nice name. Ruth. Yes, it is a nice name. He's a nice boy, too. Harry. I'll bet he is. (Auto horn and chugging heard off right.) Georgie (at windozv). There's a taxi stopping here. 16 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Ruth (joining her quickly). Is there? I wonder who it is. Georgie. There's a man getting out. Harry {joining tJiein). Is this the cousin? {Quick action from here on, working up CaL's entrance.) Ruth. Wait till he turns — that's just who it is, it's Calvin. Harry. Where's his nurse? Ruth. Harry! Deacon {coining down). What's all this agitation about? Ruth (excitedly). Cousin Calvin has come. He looks just like the picture he sent you — only — (giggles) only — he's different. Deacon (looking out). Calvin; bless me, so it is. I had quite forgotten about the boy. Mrs. p. (pushing him up center). Go on; meet him at the door. Deacon. Of course ; of course — poor homesick boy. Excuse me, Doctor. (Exit Deacon C. door.) Sopher. Certainly. As I was saying, Mrs. Penrose, the subject of foreign missions — Georgie (interrupting). Oh, papa, please don't talk about foreign missions now. SoPHER. Why not? Georgie. Because we can talk foreign missions any old time, and now Mr. Penrose's nephew is coming. Sopher. W'ho, unless I am greatly mistaken, will be deeply interested in this very subject. Cal (heard off right). Look here, Mr. Shover, you and your old barometer don't agree. (Gruff mumble from chauffeur.) That's all right. No back talk to the umpire! Here's two bucks. Now glide along. Pull your freight. Little Willie wasn't born yesterday, if he does come from (Calvin appears in hall, coming from R.) Harmony, Iowa. Eh, uncle? The Deacon comes in first C. D. a little puzzled and upset. Calvin drops his suitcase in the hall as he enters. Cal (shaking hands). Hello, Auntie. Gee, but it's good THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 17 to see you, Auntie. And say, you're looking fit, though, in the pink of condition — ready for the tap of the bell — must be just out of training — what's your system? Better tip it off to Uncle. He looks a bit off his feed. How's the rest of the family. {Looks around.) Mrs. p. {upset, nursing her hand). Quite well, thanks. And you seem to be. Calvin, I want you to meet Doctor Sopher, our pastor — our nephew, Mr. Spangler. SoPHER {extends hand trustingly). Mr. Spangler, it is a pleasure to meet you. Cal {seizing it). Pleasure is mine. Doc — er — Doctor. I suppose you drop in occasionally to kind of size up Uncle and Auntie and make 'em keep their toes on the line. Sopher {nursing his injured member). I'm afraid I don't quite understand ; but Deacon Penrose — Cal. Deacon? Is he a deacon? Sopher. Why, certainly, he's a deacon. Cal. Uncle, congratulations! I always knew you'd make it. Deacon {doubtfully). Oh — ah — thank you Mrs. p. {taking Calvin down to Georgie). Georgie, allow me to present Mr. Spangler — Miss Sopher. Georgie {barely hiding her amusement). Pleased to meet you, Mr. Spangler. Cal {a little off balance, in marked contrast to former assurance). Miss Sopher, I — {sticks, starts again). I'm sure, I — {szuallozvs hard) — that is, I assure you — {sticks, aside). Three strikes and out. {Still holds her hand in deathlike grip.) Georgie. I've heard Ruth speak of you. Cal {azukzvard, but looking dozvn at her hand admir- ingly). Yes? I — I hope she said something good. Georgie {zvithdrazving her hand, Cal is hurt). She did. Cal. Honest? Georgie. And truth. {Laughs.) . Ruth {coming dozim — saucily). Hello, big cousin. Cal {shaking hands). Hello, little mascot. Ruth {zvincing). Ouch! Don't call me mascot. I'm too big. 18 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Cal. That's right. You're immense. Ruth. You think so? Cal. Sure. The last time I saw you, you were just at the awkward age. Ruth. Well, don't despair, dear cousin, we all get through it some time. Cal. Say, you got that one over all right. Ruth (hringing Harry down). Mr. Baxter, this is my cousin, Mr. Spangler. Cal {extending hand). Glad to know you, Mr. Baxter. Harry {ivho has been watching him and recognized him, takes hand gingerly). Thanks. I know that grip. You see, Spangler, we've met before. Cal {looks closely). No. Wait — aren't you a scribe on the American pink sheet? Harry. Sure; and you're Cal Spangler, the Pinch Hitter. Georgie. What's a Pinch Hitter? Ruth. Yes, I want to know. Harry {to Calvin). Shall we tell them? (Calvin nods.) A Pinch Hitter is a fellow who always hits the ball safe when he's told. When the game is close and a run is needed to win or tie the score, they send him in to bat instead of the regular player. Georgie. Supposing he doesn't hit it? Cal. Then he's mobbed. Georgie. Have you ever been mobbed? Cal. No. I run too fast. Ruth. So you really know each other? Harry. We ought to. I've predicted all along that he'll be great. Cal. I read his column of dope every day in the year. Ruth. Isn't it just fine? Cal. Sure. I call it literature — nothing less. (Sopher has been shaking hands with the Deacon.) Sopher. Georgie, it's time for us to go. Georgie. All right. {Kissing Ruth.) Good-by, dear. (In her ear.) I think he's perfectly lovely. {To Cal.) Good-by, Mr. Spangler. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 19 Cal. Good-by, Miss — ah — I — I hope I'll see you again. Georgie. Thank you; perhaps Ruth will bring you over sometime. Cal (earnestly). She will, if I'm alive. (Ruth and Georgje go up talking.) SoPHER. Good afternoon, Mr. Spangler. Should you desire to consult with me on any subject near your heart, you will find me in my study, except on Saturdays, be- tween twelve and one o'clock. Cal (his mind on Georgie). Thanks, Doc; I'd like to, but the fact is I turn in about ten o'clock. Soppier. Turn in — I — Cal. Yes, Fm training now. No more late hours for me. Sopher. Late hours? Ah, I fear you misunderstand. I meant twelve at noon. Cal. Excuse me, Doc ; asleep at the plate. That's a strike on me. Sopher. You speak of training and I therefore presume you are to be a worker out in the field? Cal. You mean the outfield. Well, I'll do my best wher- ever they put me. Sopher. My boy, I wish to heli> you. Of course you already take a deep interest in foreign missions? Cal (puzzled). Well — no — not exactly. You see, I'm too busy to take on any sidelines. Sopher. I realize we can't all go, much as we would like to, I)Ut we can still do our part here. Cal (still puzzled). Sure. I'm willing to do anything that's fair. Sopher (in a hurst of confidence). To be candid, I must admit that foreign missions are my pet hobby. Cal (pauses as he makes mental note of the idea and then shakes hands zvith Sopher, zvarmly). I'm glad you told me that, Doc. I won't forget it. Sopher. Come and see us whenever you feel homesick for — ah — er — Concord. Cal. Not quite, Doc, but awful close. Not Concord- Harmony — Harmony. 20 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. SoPHER (laughing at his ozvn joke). Yes, yes; of course. Concord — Harmony. Ha-ha-ha. Good-by, my boy. Cal (zvaving hand as he crosses fo Mrs. P.). Good- day, Doc. Take care yourself. SoPHER. Good-by, Mr. Baxter Harry. Good-by, Dr. Sopher. (SoPHER and Georgie exit C, folloived by Deacon. Georgie looks hack and smiles at Cal. ivho is zvatching her. He bozvs repeatedly and backs into Mrs. P., then apologizes mutely.) Mrs. p. Do you care to go to your room now, Calvin. You must feel perfectly at home. Cal. Thanks, Auntie, I will. See you later, Baxter. Harry. All right, Spangler. (Mrs. P. and Cal exit L. door. Harry, looking at RuTK zvistfully). Well, it's time for me to go. RuTii (shyly). What time is it Harry (looking at his zvatch). Five o'clock. Ruth. If you'll promise to be real nice, I'll go to the front gate with you. Harry (fervently, up C). I swear I'll — Ruth (up C). It's not nice to swear — promise. Harry. I promise. (They exit slozvly C. in devoted conversation.) Stage is empty for a fezv moments, then enter Georgie, C, looking for bracelet she has left on piano. Cal enters L. door, having forgotten his suitcase in hall. They nearly collide. Cal. Hello. Lose something? Georgie. Yes, did you? Cal. Just my heart — that is — you see, I forgot some- thing. Georgie. What did you forget? Cal (piiBzled). That's funny, ain't it? I've forgotten now, what I did forget? Georgie. W'hat a terrible memory. Cal. I know it. When I look at you, my mind's a blank — I forget everything. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 21 Georgie. You do? How strange. Cal. Yes ; I can't help it. When I wa» introduced to you I forgot how to talk. "I forgot your name, my own name, where I was and who I was. Georgie (embarrassed). Ridiculous! I never heard of anything like that. Cal. I know it. I'm an awful forgetter. But there's just one thing I won't ever forget. Georgie. Yes? Cal. You. Georgie. Are you sure? Cal. Am I sure? Say — Georgie (quickly). Then won't you please help me find my bracelet? Cal (taking her hand). How did you lose it? Did it slip off your little wrist? Georgie. Of course not. I must have left it somewhere. Cal. Where did you see it last? Georgie (withdrazving her hand). Oh, it doesn't mat- ter. I can get it some other time. Cal. Oh, let's look for it now. You look on that side — and — (crazvls under table, searching). Georgie. Why, here it is on the piano. Cal (straightens up too quickly and bumps his head under table). Damn! Georgie (suspiciously). What? Cal. Jam! I said '7^"^-" ^ jammed my head, you know. Georgie. Oh, that's too bad. I must go now. Father is waiting. Cal. Well, I'm sorry. Say—er— I'll ask Ruth to bring me over. Eh, all right? Georgie. Yes, do. Good-by. Cal. Say, before you go I want you to know what kind of a flag I'm sailing under. Georgie. I'm afraid I don't know what you mean. Cal (bluntly). Well, it's just this. You're a minister's daughter, while I'm a — that is — I make my living heaving 22 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. a piece of leather around a vacant lot before a crowd of raving idiots. • Georgie. Oh, you're a ball player? Cal. Yes. I'm not ashamed of it. It's a good living, but— Georgie. Then you're not going to study for the min- istry ? Cal. Say, that's a zvide one. The ministry? You'll have to get 'em a little closer in than that. Georgie. Ruth said she thought you were coming to Chicago to study for the ministry. Cal. That's a wild shot for you. I wonder what she takes to make her dream those things? (Eagerly.) Say, you're not disappointed? Georgie {laughing). Not exactly. Good-by. Cal. Good-by. {She exits C, he watching her off, then turning nearly falls over his suitcase.) Mrs. p. enters L. door. Mrs. p. Everything's ready, Calvin. Cal. All right. Auntie. Thanks. {Jerks up suitcase and runs off L. door.) The Deacon enters at C. door looking tired and zvor- ried. He sinks zvearily into chair at L. of table and mops his forehead. Mrs. p. {hack of table). Have they all gone, Silas? Deacon. Yes, my dear. Where's Calvin? Mrs. p. He said he wanted to change his clothes. Deacon. I am. so glad he decided to change them. Didn't it strike you that they were just a trifle — er — loud? Mrs. p. Well, one would never take him for a divinity student. Deacon. But didn't you hear him say he was in training? Mrs. p. Yes, and he may be training for a prize fight for all we know. Deacon. My dear, you do not seem wholly in sympathy with my views. Mrs. p. How can I when I see what vour views on THE DEACON ENTANGLED. ,23 pipe-organs have brought us to? Now what are you going to do? Deacon. Well, Sopher said he would have to have the money tomorrow — Mrs. p. Tomorrow! Then will you tell me how Ruth is going away to school next week? Oh, why did you make that offer? Deacon. I couldn't help it, my dear. I knew we couldn't afford it, but — but — I was overcome by a flood of enthusi- asm. Mrs. p. Yes, and now the whole family is to be swamped in it. Silas Penrose, you have all but ruined us, if you haven't done that. (Ready to cry.) I've given up all the clothes for myself and things for the house in order to send Ruth away. I was glad to make the sacrifice, but now that she can't go I — I — I'm just discouraged. (Breaks dozvn and cries at R. of table.) Deacon (very nervous, dancing about). There, there, my dear ; don't cry like that. I'll see that everything comes out all right. Oh — oh — I wish you wouldn't cry. Do any- thing, everything, but please don't cry. Enter Ruth, C. D. Runs to her mother. Ruth. Oh, mamma, what's the matter? (Mrs. P. comes out of it in a flash, dry-eyed and defiant.) Mrs. p. Ask your father. Ruth. Oh, dear, what is it? Deacon. A-hem — your mother was afraid, Ruth, that we might not be able to get you off to school. Ruth (relieved). Oh, well, tJiat's all right. Mrs. p. It's all right? Ruth. Yes, I'd rather stay here. Mrs. p. (firmly). That's all the more reason you should go away. Ruth (plaintively) . I don't see why. Mrs. p. Of course you don't. But / do. Now, where is that gray dress? (All business again.) I must see it be- fore there's a thing done to it. Ruth (tearfidly). Yes, mamma. (Exit Ruth C.) 24 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Mrs. p. (turning at C. door). Silas Penrose, our daugh- ter must go away to school. Deacon {meekly). Yes, my dear. {Exit Mrs. P., C. Deacon looks at his watch, appears undecided, then starts hopefully toward L. door.) Cal enters there, attired in a neat blue serge suit. Deacon. Ah, Calvm, I was just going to look for you. Cal {brightly). Here I am. Deacon. Is your room all right. Cal. Sure. It looks like the bridal suite to me. Deacon {somewhat absent mindedly). Make yourself at home here my boy, for it's your home as long as you wish to stay. Cal. Uncle, you're a prince. But, say, you look worried. Is anything the matter? Deacon. Anything the matter? No, Calvin, I — I didn't know I looked worried. Cal. If there's anything I can do, just put me wise and — Deacon. Well, I don't know but there is one thing you might do if you don't mind. Cal. Play ball, Uncle ; play ball ! Deacon. It's only this, my dear nephew. Your aunt and I have had a slight misunderstanding which will soon pass over; but it might clear the atmosphere a little if you would just keep near me for awhile — keep near me. Cal. I got you. Deacon. Only a little financial embarrassment — ^but I'll get out of it somehow. Cal {producing a big roll of bills). Look here, Uncle, just say how much it is — Deacon. No, no ; I couldn't think of such a thing. Cal {holding it out). It's real money and it ain't tainted. Deacon. No, no, my dear Calvin. Put it away. Cal {putting it in his pocket reluctantly). Well, you know where it is, and the bank's always open. Deacon. Yes, yes; you're very generous, I'm sure. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 25 Cal. I think I told you in my letter that I wanted to talk over a little matter with you. Deacon. Yes. Cal. Now, Fm not asking you to make a sacrifice hit for me — because — Deacon. Eh — what? Cal. I mean I don't want to impose on you. Deacon (zuith proper solemnity). I'll gladly advise you on anything I understand, and there is Dr. Sopher, who also — Cal (breaking in). Say, he's got a dandy daughter, hasn't he? Deacon. She is without doubt a lovely young girl. Cal. Lovely? Why, she's like the girls you read about — too good to be true. Why, Uncle, she had me hooked, strung and hung over the side of the boat the minute she looked at me. Deacon. I — I'm afraid we're changing the subject. Cal. Well, Uncle, I came here to make a little killing. Deacon (horrified). Killing — a little killing? Cal. Yes, in other words to pick up a little easy money. Deacon (shocked). You mean your purpose in coming here was pecuniary gain? Cal. You'll have to come again, Uncle, and just a little closer to the plate this time. Deacon. Do — do you mean that you came here to ac- quire money? Cal (seriously). No, I came here to get it, and I want your advice about investing it. Deacon. What form of investment do you have in mind ? Cal. I've an option on a billiard hall down town that I want to buy, and I'm anxious to get your opinion on it. Deacon. But I — I don't play billiards. Cal. That cuts no ice. You don't have to. I want to get the right location and see that the lease is all right. Now, my option expires in a day or so, and I figured on your going with me to see it this evening. Deacon. Where is it situated? 26 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Cal. On West Madison Street. It's on the second floor. You have to go through a saloon on the first floor to get to it. . Deacon. What? Cal. You see, the stairway is in the rear of the saloon. Can't get up any other way. Deacon (solemnly). That ends my going, Calvin. I have never entered the door of a saloon in my life. Cal. Come on ; be a sport. Nobody'U know you. Besides, I won't take it unless I can get the saloon people out or have the stairway moved. Deacon. Yes, I should insist on that by all means. Cal (enthusiastic). Uncle, I'm going to fix it up like a regular palace — gold letters across the front and make it a regular hang-out for the boys who wear the spikes. Deacon. Spikes? Couldn't you think of something bet- ter to invest your money in? Cal. Why, it looks better'n a gold mine to me. Uncle. Don't you think it is? Deacon (doubtfully). Well, I don't know — I — Cal. Now, don't throw cold water on it. You may want to buy an interest some day. Deacon (aghast). I — ^buy an interest? Cal. Wefl, I want you to take dinner down town with me and look it over anyway. Deacon (ivitsfully). I wouldn't mind taking dinner down town — it's a long time since I've done that — if we could get away. Cal. Get away? You just leave that to little Willie — (starts up stage.). Deacon. Just a moment, Calvin. You haven't told me how you were going to acquire the money to buy the place. Cal (coming down). That's so; I forgot. Say, Uncle, it's such a good thing, I'm going to let you in. Deacon. Eh ? Cal. Sure. I'm not stingy with my friends. There's a nice little greenback crop about ready to be harvested and it's best to pick while the picking's good. (Motions zvith hands.) THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 27 Deacon. Somehow, I don't understand you. What is the nature of the enterprise? Cal. Eh? Oh, the nature? Well, it's better than a first mortgage or a government bond, because you don't have to wait so long for it to blossom, and it's just as safe. I tell you. Uncle Silas, it's a sure thing, and you can't lose, and I'm going to make such a collection of birds I'll have to get a wife to help me scatter 'em. (Motions like birds flying.) Deacon. Birds? Cal. Sure — American eagles. (Holds up silver dollar.) Deacon (dubiously). Ah, my dear nephew, I fear this is some wildcat scheme designed to trap the unwary, the moth to the flame as it were. I insist that you advise with me thoroughly before going into it. Cal. Ain't that what I'm doing. Deacon. What is the proposition? Cal (seriously). Listen. Tomorrow the Eagles, cham- pions of the National League, begin a series of games with the American League champions to determine which team is the champion of the world. (With great earnestness.) Now, if the Eagles can keep their regular line-up through- out the series, there won't be any question about the world's championship, 'cause nothing that wears spiked shoes can stop 'em. Still, they might get disabled before the series is over and I'm playing this thing safe. They're in grand shape now, and will take the opener tomorrow without turning a hair — watch them do it. Deacon. But what has this to do with the investment? Cal. You remember the roll I just showed you? Deacon. Yes. Cal. That's what I saved out of my last year's salary. It's over a thousand dollars, and I'm going to play every cent of it on the Eagles tomorrow. Deacon (horrified). Why — why — dear me, that is gambling — nothing but gambling. Cal. Yes, some people call dealing in stocks and buying things at a church fair, gambling, but this is simply making good money double itself, by being next. 28 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Deacon. It's gambling, I tell you — and to think that you dared suggest I be a party to it! Cal (turns up coat collar, hands in pockets and whistles). Phew! That's what I get for being friendly. Deacon. I am glad you told me, for now I can show you the error of your ways. Cal. Don't try it ; you don't know what you're up against. You'll be sorry you spoke so disrespectfully of my little sure-thing some day. You'll want to get in your- self. Deacon. Forgive me if I speak plainly, my dear boy ; but as a student for the ministry you are not taking the Cal (looking frightened). The ministry? Say, what is the matter with me anyway? (Suiting the action to the word.) Have I commenced to grow side-whiskers? Is my collar straight up and buttoned in the back, or did I just forget to put on a necktie? Deacon. I hadn't noticed. I — Cal. This is the second time I've been taken for a min- isterial prospect. Deacon. Then you have no such thought? Cal. Not even when I'm delirious. Deacon. I — I hope you won't be hurt when I tell you — that I — I am deeply disappointed. Cal. I don't blame you a bit. You don't know the glo- rious career I've mapped out for myself. Now, I'm not knocking the ministry as a profession, either, but between ourselves I don't believe there's any money in it, and you can never get your name in big headlines in that business unless you run off with the contribution box or some fairy in the choir. Deacon (badly shocked but interested). My dear nephew — this is — a-hem — I must — Cal (interrupting). As I was saying about my career — I'm with the Eagles now and am really eligible to play in the series, though, of course, I won't ; but if I'm anywhere near as good next season as I've been all summer, you're going to read about me in red type — capital letters. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 29 Deacon (sadly). I hope you succeed, of course; but it's a great shock to me. Cal. I'm sorry, Uncle; but honest, now, can you imag- ine me in the pulpit? (Poses. Deacon shakes head and sighs. ) Enter Mrs. P. and Ruth, L. D. Cal (hastily dropping pose). Hello, Auntie; I was just going to look for you. Mrs. p. (pointing to piano). Ruth, you cut your prac- tice at least ten minutes when Georgie came. (Ruth starts to protest.) No excuses. I have a clock in my room, re- member. (Ruth flounces to piano.) What is it, Calvin? Cal. Well, Uncle and I thought we'd better be starting, and — Mrs. P. Starting — starting where ? Cal. That's so ; I guess I didn't tell you, did I ? Mrs. p. Tell me what? Cal. Pve an option on a — (look from Deacon stops him) an option on a — a — a — Deacon. Some real estate. Cal. Yes, some real estate ; and as it expires in a day or so, Pm anxious to have Uncle look it over and advise me. Mrs. p. How can you do it this evening? Cal. Well, you see, I haven't a day to lose, so we're going to have an early dinner down town and then go right out and see it. Come, Uncle, we must be on our way. Good-bye, Auntie. Good-bye, Ruth. Mrs. p. Good-by — and Silas. Deacon. Yes, my dear. Mrs. p. I will sit up for you, so come home as early as possible. Deacon (resignedly) . Yes, my dear. (He exits C. fol- lozved by Cal, zvho folds his hands and tries to look espe- cially pious. Picture on exit. Cal turns, spreads out his hands in benediction. Auntie is sezving. Ruth strikes up on the piano, ''We Wont Go Home Until Morning.'' Mrs. p. 7'ises, shocked, but Cal disappears before she sees him.) 30 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Mrs. p. Ruth! (Ruth drearily starts metronone and takes up Paderezvski's minuet to curtain.) Second Curtain. (Mrs. p. sewing vigorously with furtive anxious glances at door, while Ruth continues her practice.) Act it. The dining-room at Deacon Penrose^ s, eight o'clock the next morning. Table set for breakfast in center of room, zvindows at left, two doors at back, one right of center and one left of center; door in right zvall up stage. Tele- phone on right wall. Small table with clock- at center against zvall. Mrs. p. and Ruth are discovered at table looking tired and zvorn out. They have slept but little. Immediately after rise Katy enters at R. door in back zvith the morning paper in her hand and lays it on table at Ruth'^ right. Ruth (yazvning). Thank you, Katy. Katy. Shall I keep breakfast warm for Mr. Penrose? Mrs. p. (snaps). No! Katy. Yes, mam. (Exit R. door at back.) Ruth. Don't you think father will soon come? Mrs. p. (tired and nervous, sharply). Yes, but if he's in any condition to eat breakfast at all, he's had it by this time. Ruth. Where do you suppose father and Cal are? Mrs. p. Pve given up supposing. Do you know that I hardly closed my eyes all night? Ruth (serious). Perhaps something has happened to them. Mrs. p. (grimly). If it hasn't, it zvill. Ruth. What can be keeping them? Mrs. p. (sarcastically). It may be they're a little slow in getting up courage. Ruth. Flas father ever stayed away all night before? Mrs. p. No; this is his first offence. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 31 Ruth. They said they were going to look at real estate, didn't they? Mrs. p. Yes, they said so. Ruth. They couldn't do that after dark, could they? Mrs. p. (more sarcasm). Not unless there's some kind of real estate we don't know anything about. Ruth (getting up). I wish Georgie would come over. May I telephone for her? Mrs. p. (hastily). No; I don't even want to be reminded of her. Ruth. Why, mother dear, what is the matter? Mrs. p. She makes me think of her father, and he makes me think of that pipe-organ. Ruth. When does father have to pay the money? Mrs. p. Today. Ruth. Perhaps that has made him desperate and he — Mrs. p. Not he. I only wish it would. Then he might do something. Ruth. He said everything would come out all right. Mrs. p. (impatiently) . "Hq said — he said." Oh, I don't want to think about it. What's in the paper? Ruth (looking it over). Baseball, the ItaHan Count's wedding, big police raid — m-m-m — (reading to herself). Say, this police raid is exciting. Mrs. p. Read something else. Ruth. Oh, but listen; this is fierce. (Reading.) "Gam- bling joint on West Madison Street raided, ten men cap- tured, only one escapes. The police unearthed last night a secret gambling resort that has long defied detection. It was cleverly situated on the second floor back of a bil- liard hall. The police claim that the haul will disclose the names of several prominent citizens who were caught red- handed. One man escaped by breaking a second-story win- dow and jumping. A burly policeman had been stationed to guard the rear approach and the daring gambler landed squarely on top of him, knocking the wind out of him and then making good his escape." Terrible, isn't it? Mrs. p. Yes ; stop reading things like that. Ruth. Well, here's baseball. Enthusiasm at high pitch. 32 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Great fight for the world's championship between the rival pennant contenders of the National and American Leagues begins today. A close comparison of the two teams — _ Katy enters L. door at back. Katy. Docther and Miss Sopher. Mrs. p. (sighs). Have them go into the library, Katy. Katy. Yis, mum. (Exit Katy L. door at back.) Mrs. p. He's come after the money. I don't. know how to explain about your father. Ruth. What shall we do? Mrs. p. You go in and talk to them. Say LU be down in a minute. I'll think up something to say — some deception. Oh, to think that I — oh, my poor head. Silas Penrose, you'll pay for this. (Exit Mrs. P.^ R. door, hand to her head.) Ruth (going up). All right, mamma. (Exit L. door at back.) Stage is empty for fezv seconds and Deacon, sup- ported by Cal, enters cautiously at R. door at back. Deacon is pale from worry and hunger, having had no breakfast. His hair and clothing are mussed and hat stove in. Cal presents same appearance, his coat being torn up the back and he has a large rent in his trousers fastened by a safety pin. He deposits the Deacon in a chair. Deacon (fearfully). Did anyone see us come in? Cal. No one but the ash-man. He thought you were trying to get his job. Deacon (panting). To think that I should ever be com- pelled to sneak into my own house by way of the alley. Cal. You ought to be thankful to have such an alley. Deacon. Thankful? Cal. Sure. High board fences both sides ; that's an ideal alley. Deacon (groaning). I'm disgraced, Cal. I'll never get over it. Cal. Nonsense. Better men than you have stayed in jail over night. Deacon. Sh ! Don't, don't ! Someone might hear. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 33 Cal. What you need is a little drink to brace you up Deacon. Little drink— I drink? Cal. Sure— coffee. I could drink a cup myself Deacon (groaning). Ah, I fear my appetite has gone with my reputation. Cal. Come out of it, Uncle. You've got to brace up, get some backbone, or how can you face the music? Deacon. No, no ; I can't face any music. Cal. You'v.e got to. Deacon (starting up). I wonder where she is. We bet- ter go to some hotel and — and telephone. Cal (holding him dozvn). No; we're here, now, and the sooner we take the plunge, the better. Deacon (nervously). Suppose Dr. Sopher should find It out? Cal. Now, don't manufacture trouble. Just stay right here while L negotiate for some breakfast. I can't handle the situation on an empty stomach. (Cal starts tozvard R. door at back, but as he reaches it) — Katy enters R. door at back. Cal. Hello! Is breakfast ready? Katy. Sure. Don't you mean dinner? Good morning, Mr. Penrose. Deacon (looking azvay). Good morning, Katy. Katy. Have you had breakfast, sir? Cal. No, we thought we'd rather wait and have some of your coffee. ' Katy. Sure, and Oi've kept it hot fer yez. Cal. Fine — that's fine. Katy. And I can make some toast. Cal. You've caught the idea and made a- hit with me. (As she starts to go.) Now wait a second. (Takes a bank note from his pocket, puts it in her hand.) There's a little present for you. Just a second now. (Goes to Deacon a7id takes a bill from his pocket and puts it in Katy's hand zvith the other, she being too surprised to speak.) And here's another. That for keeping the coffee hot. Katy. Oh, oh, thank you. 34 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Cal. That's all right. Now I'll stand on my head until you come back with the coffee. Katy. Sure, I'll be back in a jiffy. (Katy exits R. door at back in a great hurry.) Deacon (groans). Oh! Cal. What's the matter now? Deacon. Bribing my own servants. I never thought I'd sink so low as that. Cal. That wasn't a bribe ; it was a tip. Deacon. Have you the time? Cal. The time? {Pulling out his watch.) No, it's stopped. But that makes me think. You'll be doing time if you don't pay that fine at four o'clock this afternoon. Deacon. Ah, my dear nephew, in my misery and dis- grace I had forgotten that. How much was it? Cal. a thousand dollars. Deacon. A thousand dollars? Cal. The judge said he was determined to suppress gambling and wanted to make an example of you. Deacon (moistening his dry lips). And — and what was the alternative? Cal. Six months at hard labor. Deacon. Calvin, I'm ruined. My reputation is blasted. Cal. It would be if I hadn't got you out of jail. Deacon (terrified). Sh — sh! Cal. I had an awful time getting bail for you. Deacon. What am I to do? What would you advise? Cal (critically). Well, you've got a sporting chance; but why didn't you jump when I told you ? Deacon. Jump! I jump from a second-story window? I surely would have been severely injured. Cal. Not if you landed where I did. Deacon. Where was that? Cal. It wore a blue uniform and carried a club and must have weighed over three hundred pounds. Deacon. You mean an officer of the law? Cal. Well, I thought at first it was a feather bed. (Laughing heartily at the recollection.) I suppose he was THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 35 put there to catch anyone getting away. He — he caught me all right. Deacon. I surely would have broken my legs. Cal. That's • better than breaking your hack on the stone-pile. Deacon. Stone-pile ? Cal. That's what six months means. Oh, why didn't you jump when I — Deacon {interrupting). I couldn't; I — I — Cal. Have you got the thousand dollars handy? Deacon {desperately). No, Calvin, it isn't handy and I don't know where I can get it by four o'clock, either. Cal. Can't you mortgage something? Deacon. All my worldly possessions are in your Aunt's name and — and she, of course, she musn't know. Cal. Can't you borrow it? Deacon. Not without the proper security, and your Aunt has everything. Cal. You'd better take my tip and make a killing on the game this afternoon. Deacon. Impossible. That would be gambling. Cal. Call it what you like, but you've got to raise some money somehow. Deacon. Don't try to tempt me. Remember I still have some remnant of self-respect left me. To be apprehended in a beer saloon and be forced to remain over night in con- finement, and then — then to sneak into one's home and bribe one's own servants is bad enough; but to gamble — never! {Assumes dramatic pose.) Cal. All right. Play the game to suit yourself. I'm just trying to do a little coaching from the side-lines. Deacon {dropping pose). Then there is my pledge for the pipe-organ? Cal. Pledge? What about that? Deacon. A thousand dollars for the new pipe-organ. I promised to pay it today. Cal. Have you got that much? -Deacon. Hardly. Still I might raise it. 36 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Cal. Say, you are in a tight hole. A thousand to Doc Sopher or you lose your job as Deacon ; a thousand to the judge or six months. Deacon (mournfully). And that is not all. Ruth must be sent away to school next week. Cal. You ought to organize a company and sell some watered stock. Deacon (absent minded). I wish I could — no, no, I don't either. Cal. Now let's hold a little directors' meeting, Uncle, and take inventory of cash on hand. Deacon (resignedly). Very well. Cal. If you'd only jumped when I told you. Well, how much have you in the bank, Uncle? Deacon. Only a few hundred — three, possibly four. Cal. Got any loose change in your clothes? Deacon. Yes. That is, I have some money in my room that I intended to deposit today. Cal. How much? Deacon. About six hundred dollars. Cal. Don't deposit it. Put enough with it and pay your fine. Deacon. But the pipe-organ? Cal. Oh, let the pipe-organ whistle. Deacon. Break my word with Dr. Sopher? Cal. Sure, unless you'd rather break stone on the stone- pile. Deacon. But my reputation ; my standing in the commu- nity, all depends on my doing as I agreed. Cal. a fine reputation you'll have in the community after playing checkers with your nose behind a grated window. Deacon (frightened). Horrible, horrible! Don't speak of it. Cal. See here, Uncle, you've got to take this more seri- ously. (Emphatically.) If you don't get that money over to the judge by four o'clock you'll be doing the lock-step sure before night. (Imitates lock-step with Deacon, who gets away in agony.) THE DEACON ENTANGLED. il Deacon. I know — I know — but what shall I do? Cal. Oh, if you'd only jumped when I told you. Deacon (interrupting). But I didn't — I couldn't. Cal. I got you into this, Uncle, and I'm going to see you through, but you'll have to do as I say. Deacon. Very well, but remember I draw the line on gambling. Cal. In the first place, give Sopher his check for the thousand. Deacon. That will be overdrawing my bank account. Cal. Never mind that. I'll help you raise enough money to make it good. Deacon. And then what? Cal. Give me six hundred cash, or whatever it is, kiss it good-bye and forget you ever had it. Deacon. But I must know what you are going to do with it. Cal. Can't you trust me? Deacon. Trust you? Of course I do. Cal. Then let me have it in half an hour. Deacon. I'll think it over. Cal. No, I want you to hand it over. Enter Mrs. P., R. door. Mrs. p. So you're here at last. (Deacon cringes, Cal turns brightly.) Cal (effusively). Auntie, how are you? Mrs. p. (coldly). I (emphasizing the pronoun) am very well. Silas Penrose, where have you been? Deacon. I? Yes, my dear, I— I have been, that is to say — out. Mrs. p. Out — out where? Cal (aside). Out about a thousand. Deacon. Well, of course, to be more exact, not entirely out, but partly in. Mrs. p. In — in where? Cal (laughing). He means all in. Deacon (swallozving hard). In — in, I realize it may seem strange to you, my dear, but I will explain everything. 38 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Mrs. p. Very well ; I'm waiting Deacon (helplessly) . Calvin, please tell your Aunt how it was. Mrs. p. Silas Penrose, don't try to throw the blame on your poor young nephew. It's bad enough to be setting him such an example. {The Deacon is nozv thoroughly miserable.) Cal. Don't be too hard on him, Auntie. He didn't treat me just right, but he's sorry now, aren't you, Uncle? Deacon {nervously) . Yes, my dear Calvin — yes. Cal. Yes, of course he is. Mrs. p. In what way did he mistreat you? Cal. In the first place, he wouldn't jimip when I told him — (Deacon turns up stage in agony.) Mrs. p. Wouldn't jump? Cal. But that wasn't the worst. He went off and left me. Mrs. p. Went off and left you alone, a stranger in this great city? Cal. Yes, you see, he met a party who wanted Uncle to go along and stay all night. Mrs. p. Didn't he ask you, too? Cal. Yes, he wanted me, too, but I managed to get away. Mrs. p. Why didn't you go, or at least come home? Cal. Well, he was a total stranger to me, and I didn't feel like butting in. I couldn't come home alone, so I went to a hotel. Mrs. p. Silas Penrose, is this your idea of hospitality, to go off and leave your nephew like that? Deacon {sadly). I couldn't help it my dear — the man insisted. Cal. I think I'll go upstairs and change my clothes be- fore breakfast. Mrs. p. Yes, Calvin, I have something to discuss with your Uncle. Cal {crossing to R. door). Don't be too hard on him. I've forgiven him already. {Exit Cal, R. D.) Mrs. p. Now, who was this party you went with? THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 39 MrsT' Wh'^t"'°"'^^'' '^"°^\^^ho it was if I told you. iviRs. J^. What was his name^ Mpf °p' V*"' 'l'/."^™^? I 'hi"k his "ame was Rafferty. Mrs. p. You think it was Rafferty? £;;fc^ Katy .??. rfoor fli back u'ith tray of breakfast thmgs, coffee, toast, etc. She lays the tral ol side table and arranges things on table. Katy. Isn't Mr. Spangler going to have his breakfast now Mrs. p. He'll be here in a moment, Katy Katy. I wouldn't want his coffee to get cold (Katy mZ "p" tw' ' ^T^^ir^'' '' ''''' ''Sec and tl^tp^^ MRS. P. That s right, Katy. Katy (protidly). He loikes good coffee. (As Katy^s Mrs. p. \Mio is Mr. Rafferty? (Katy whirls around much upset and drops her tray in confusion ) Katy. He— he's on the police force. Mrs. p. How do you know he is ? Katy (proudly). Sure, he's been keeping stidy comp'ny wid me fer two months. (Deacon has started lis bJeJ Mrs. p. All right, Katy. Katy. Yis mum. (Exit Katy, R. door at back.) MRS. P^.How can you eat your breakfast before telling me who this Mr. Rafferty is? ^ Deacon (dropping bite on way to his mouth, fumblina nervously.) Fm sure you don't know him, my dear Mrs p. He must be a very close friend to ask you to stay all night. ^ Deacon. You mustn't blame me, my dear. I tried to get away, but — Mrs. p. But what? Deacon. He was so insistent, it was impossible Mrs. p. Where did you go ? Deacon. Oh, yes, of course you are interested in where 40 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. we went. Naturally you would be interested. (Deacon puts salt in his coffee and sugar on eggs, etc.) Mrs. p. Deeply so. Deacon. Do you know, I consider it very devoted of you to be so interested after being married so long. It is in fact most commendable. Mrs. p. (more emphasis). Where did you go? Deacon. Yes, as I was saying, we went — well, first we entered a carriage — Mrs. p. Where did you go? Deacon. We went — a-hem — for a long ride. Mrs. p. Who was in the carriage beside you and Mr. Rafferty? Deacon. My dear, did I mention anyone else? Mrs. p. No, and you don't need to. I have guessed al- ready. Deacon {drops knife, alarmed). Guessed — guessed what? Mrs. p. That there was a woman with you. {Starting to cry.) I knew it all the time — you can't deny it. Deacon {rising righteously, knife in hand). Mrs. Pen- rose, I must protest — you are mistaken — you wrong me grievously — there 7vas no woman. Mrs. p. Then why did you get into a carriage? Deacon {sitting, limp again). Because — ah — eh, Mr. Rafferty insisted. Mrs. p. {changing sharply). Do you know who is in the other room? Deacon {his cup crashing into his saucer as he thinks of Rafferty). No, unfortunately I haven't the slightest idea. Mrs. p. Supposing I were to tell you it was Mr. Raf- ferty? Deacon {thoroughly scared). I— I— in that case I would leave at once. Mrs. p. For what? I thought you were old friends. Deacon. Well, he is such a persistent person, he — he might want me to take another ride with him Mrs. p. It's Doctor Sopher. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 41 Deacon (drazvs'sigh of relief). Doctor Sopher. I am so glad. Mrs. p. Glad? He's probably called for that thousand dollars you promised him yesterday. Deacon (musingly). Who would have thought they could raise the other thousand ! I suppose I might as well pay it and have it over. Mrs. p. How can you? Deacon. I don't know, Pm sure, unless Calvin can help me out. Mrs. p. You can't see him, looking as you do. Deacon (going R.). Yes, I must change my linen. Please tell him Pll be down in a minute. Mrs. p. (zi'ith a last outburst). And don't flatter your- self you have fooled me about Mr. Rafiferty. He is some gay bachelor you knew before we were married, who is trying to lead you astray. (Half weeping.) Enter Cal, R. D., in different suit and well groomed again. Deacon. My dear, you are utterly mistaken. Now — now, here is Calvin. He will explain everything. (Exit Deacon, R. D.) Cal. Sure Pll explain. Pm not married, but then I can do it. (Cal sits down to his breakfast at onee.) Mrs. p. Pm not entirely satisfied with your Uncle's ex- planation. Cai. (eating heartily). Neither am I. Mrs. p. What do you think of it? Cal. I think the best way will be to get him between us and give him the third degree. Mrs. p. I can depend upon your help, then? (Going up.) Cal. Sure. What's your hurry. Mrs. p. I must go in and speak to Doctor Sopher. Cal (half rising). Doc Sopher? Is his daughter with him? Mrs. p. Yes. Why? Cal. 'Cause if that's the case, Pve got to hurry. (Mrs. 42 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. P. exits L. D. at back. Cal attacks his breakfast vigor- ^'^ Katy enters R. D. at back. Katy. Is the breakfast all roight, Mr. Spangler? Cal. All right? It couldn't taste any better if I'd fasted for a week and stood in the bread line all night. Katy. I'm glad it's all roight. Cal. Don't hold it against me for being late for break- fast, will you? Katy. Oh, no, sir. I won't. Cal. Ordinarily I'm as punctual as a farm hand in threshing time. {Bell rings off L.) Katy. There's the bell, sir. Cal. If it should look anything like a policeman, just tell him I don't live here any more and I'll move in a hurry. Katy. Yis, sir. (Exit Katy, L. D. at back. Cal eats rapidly for a fezv seconds and then) — Ruth and Georgie enter L. D. at back, talking and laughing. Ruth. Why, Cal, what are you doing here? Cal {rising). You got me. I don't know whether I'm finishing my breakfast or starting my dinner. Good morn- ing. Miss Sopher. Georgie. Good morning. I'm sorry we intruded. Cal. Intruded. I've just finished — honest, I have. Ruth. How do you feel this morning, dear cousin? Cal. Fine. Like I'd cleaned up the bases with a home run. Ruth. I notice you cleaned up the dishes. Enter Katy, L. D., at back. Katy. Mr, Baxter. Ruth. Have him come in here, Katy. Katy. Yes, miss. {Exit Katy, L. D. at back.) Ruth. Where is my father? Cal. Up stairs. Ruth. I've a good mind to tell Georgie all about you. Cal {expectantly). Do you think she'll listen? Georgie. Of course I'll listen. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 43 Cal. Go ahead, but don't leave out anything. Remem- ber I'm the only pitcher in the minor leagues that batted over three hundred. Ruth. Where were you last night? Cal. Oh, I kept out of jail, little mischief maker. Ruth {stamping her foot). Don't call me mischief maker. Cal. All right, sweet angel child. Harry enters left door at back. Harry. Good morning. Cal. Hello, Baxter. Harry. Hello, Cal, I telephoned over last night, but you were out. (They shake Jiands and walk dozvn left. Ruth and Georgie are tip center.) Cal. I was out all night. Harry. W' hat's the game. (Cal puts his arm around Harry's shoidder and they zvhisper and nod in lozv tones.) They did, eh? Cal. I bailed him out this morning but no one knows it. {They look at each other a moment and then a smile creeps over the face of each.) And this is the first time I've had a chance to laugh. {They both lean back and laugh heartily. Ruth and Georgie, seeing this, begin to talk and laugh with great animation so as to attract their attention. Harry and Cal realise that they ha/ve made a mistake and Cal goes up to square it.) I beg pardon. Miss So^^htr— {neither girl pays any attention) Miss Sopher, I— I— {he looks to Harry for help. In louder voice.) Miss Sopher. {No at- ' tention. To Harry.) Get a megaphone. Georgie. Oh, did you speak to me? Cal. No, I spoke at you. (Harry and Ruth zi'alk over R. Cal and Georgie over L.) Georgie. Really, I had forgotten you were here. Cal. I'll tell you an easy way to remember me. Georgie. Of course you're sure I wish to remember you? Cal. Oh, that isn't fair. Georgie. Why ? Cal {very serious). Say, little girl, when everything 44 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. looks blue and you're feeling low in the percentage column, wouldn't it make you just a little happier to remember that there was one person in the world who thought you were just right — who, no matter what you might do or people might say, would always think you were just rightf Georgie (zvistfully). Yes, it might. Cal. Well, you know I've met a lot of girls — I've had 'em throw flowers at me when I came to bat — I've had 'em snap me with their- kodaks and send me perfumed notes — why, if I'd any imagination at all, I'd have thought I was a matinee idol? Georgie. What did you think? Cal. Nothing. I just felt foolish, pulled off my cap and grinned. Georgie. Are you sure? Cal. There wasn't one of them that ever had me slowed up for a second. Georgie. That's what all men say. Cal. Oh, see here, you can't throw cold water over me. I know it sounds like a fairy tale and I haven't got it all figured out myself. All I know is that you're the only girl that ever brought me to a full stop and made me stand without hitching. Georgie (basJifully changing the subject). Which — which arm do you throw the ball with? Cal. Huh, oh, which arm? Why, I'm a southpaw. Georgie. Southpaw. What is that? Cal. That's this hand (shozving her his left) and this — is — is the other one (putting right arm about her.) Georgie. Oh! {They go aside, he talking earnestly, she shyly protesting.) Ruth. No, mamma would never let me wTite to you every day. Harry. I believe they're sending you to school to get you away from me. Ruth {fascinated). Would you really elope with me? Harry. Try me. Ruth. \\ e'd have to do it right away — school opens in a week. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 45 Harry. Tonight would suit me all right. Ruth. Oh, no, not tonight. Harry. Why not? Ruth. Oh, I couldn't. Harry. You just said we'd have to do it right away. Ruth. I meant, if we really made up our minds. Harry. My mind's made up. Ruth. Well, I'm still undecided. Harry. What's the matter? Ruth. I've always wanted a wedding. I hate to give that up. Harry. You didn't think I was going to steal you? We'll get married tomorrow. Ruth {scornfully). Get married, of course — I said I wanted a wedding. Harry. Oh, couldn't we have the wedding afterwards? Ruth. We might, but let's decide about the elopement first. Harry. / have. Ruth. But we must be practical. Now the first thing — ■ Harry. Is a ladder. Ruth. A good strong ladder. Harry. No, the first thing is the license. Ruth. The license? Harry (producing it). Here. I've carried.it around with me for a month. Ruth. Harry dear, if we wait until tonight I'll feel so wicked I just know I'll change my mind. Harry. Then we won't wait. I know where there's a minister. We'll have the knot tied before we go to the game. (They talk in lozv tones. Cal and Georgie corne dozvn a little.) Cal. Now I wonder what they're talking about. Georgie. Probably they're discussing the weather, or politics. Cal. Politics — that's it. He's running for president of the family, at the next June election, and trying to get her vote. Georgie. Are you interested in politics? 46 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Cal (taking Iter hand). It depends. If I could get the right party to support me, I wouldn't mind being a can- didate. ' During this speech Deacon enters at R. door consider- ably freshened in appearance. Cal sees him before the others and goes on in the same tone of voice. Cal. And then if I want to throw a wide one, I hold the ball like this (doubling up her hand as though it zvere a ball) and let it slip out between my thumb and forefinger like this. (Letting her hand drop.) Looks easy, don't it? You can do it yourself if you practice. Deacon. Good morning, children. (All turn surprised.) Ruth. Oh, papa, I'm so glad to see you. (Rims to hint and kisses him.) Deacon (dryly). Yes, my dear, I'm glad that I'm here so that you can see me. Your father is still here, Miss Georgie ? Georgie. Yes, he's in the library. Deacon. I regret keeping him waiting. Georgie. Shall I tell him you are here? Deacon. Thank you, just a word with my nephew and I am going in to him. Georgie. I'll tell him. (Exit Georgie, L. D. at back. Cal looks after Georgie as she exits.) Ruth (in prim, dignified manner). Would you care to look at the photograph album, Mr. Baxter? Harry (same business). I assure you, Miss Penrose, nothing would give me more pleasure. (She takes his arm and slozvly and zvith mock dignity they zvalk to L. D. at back and exit.) Cal. Uncle, I see showers coming. Deacon (alarmed). Showers. That'll postpone the game, won't it? Cal. Not the kind of showers I mean. Deacon. I don't understand. Cal (looking after Ruth and Harry). I mean linen showers, kitchen showers, and so forth. Deacon. Ah, that's the reason we're sending her away. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 47 tra^^'yo JrS. ^'"" '"' '" ^ '"'^^ ^"^ P^^^ ^^^ -^ ^^e Deacon. A-hem, a few minutes ago you suggested mv giving you all my ready cash. ^^^^^ea my Cal (holding out his hand), Vm the receiving teller hnfrT' A r^^^^u ^^^^ ^^ ^''y '''y hands on it yet, but I— I ve decided to follow your advice Cal. Good. Now hurry up and deliver, for I've ^ot to be off in a few mmutes. (Looks at watch.) Deacon. Of course you realize it will not be ah— er— expedient to mention this transaction to your aunt Lal. Not on your life. * * Deacon. I'll put the money in an envelope. Now, if the Eagles should lose— ' .nH 1f > ?J!''^ """"''u' Still there's a chance in everything, and if I throw a shoe m this race I'll either raise the thou- sand myself or go to jail for you-there's my fist on it DEACON (taking his hand with feeling), I believe "in you, Calvin. ^ Cal. If you'd only jumped when I told you. Now I've f .f V f T ^^ four-that's when your fine's due (start- ing up), but I must see that little girl before I ^o Vcal goes up to L. D. at back.) h - K^^^ SoPHER enters L. D. at back. ^Cal (grabbing his hand). Good morning, Doc, how are SoPHER. How am I? Ah, the years rest lightly on my shoulders this morning, my young friend. Fortune smiles Cal She does, eh? I'm glad to hear it. I hope her smile doesnt come off until after four o'clock. (Cal gives the DEACON a meaning look and the latter gets fidgety ) SoPHER. I fear I fail to get just the shade of meaning— CAL (interrupting). I know you do, Doc. I'd tip it off to you if I dared, but I hate to see you throw a fit SoPHER. Tip it off! Throw a fit! Why, I— 1_ Cal. Say, Doc, I have two subjects very near my heart I d like to speak about. Could you spare a minute > SoPHER. Come to my study between the hours of— 48 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Cal (interrupting). Can't wait. Then, too, I'd like to have the Deacon as a witness. SoPHER. Oh, certainly; very well. Cal. The first subject is, Foreign Missions. SoPHER (delighted). Foreign Missions! Cal. Yes, as I told Uncle, I have a little money I want to invest — SoPHER. Money — yes, yes. Cal (producing his roll). Now, I've always taken a deep interest in Foreign Missions — SoPHER (very eager). Yes, yes — naturally. Cal (counting the money). Will you do me the favor? Here's a hundred dollars to help educate the poor heathen. (He hands Sopher the money.) SoPHER (overcome). A hundred dollars! Cal. Please see if I counted that right. Sopher. My dear young man — my dear boy. I cannot adequately express my appreciation, my gratitude, my, my — Cal. Now, the other subject is — your daughter. Sopher (counting and gloating over the money). My daughter. Oh, yes ; of course. Cal. I love your daughter and I can support her and want your consent to our marriage. Sopher (still absorbed in the money). My consent? Naturally, you love her? Of course. A hundred dollars. What an impetus this will give my Foreign Missions cam- paign. Cal. We're getting away from our subject. Our mar- riage. I want your consent. Sopher (same business). Oh, yes, to be sure; if you love each other. Certainly, my boy ; certainly. Cal. Thank you, Doc. You hear that, Uncle. I'm in a hurry, so good-by. Take care of yourself. (Cal gives Sopher a grip that doubles him up and exits L. D. at back.) Sopher (nursing • the injured hand). Ah, Penrose, a wonderful young man, your nephew. But strenuous, very strenuous. Deacon. You've noticed it? THE DKACOX EXTAXGLED. 49 SoPHER. I've felt it. A few years at the Theological School, however — Deacon. Oh, I must tell you. I was mistaken about his studying for the ministry. He has no such intention. SoPHER. Ah, Penrose, we can't all be ministers, and he is such a stanch supporter of Foreign Missions. Deacon. By the way, I might as well give you my do- nation for the pipe-organ. (Tearing a check from his check book.) I have it made out, ready to send you. SoPHER (taking it). Thank you, Penrose. Always prompt and willing. (He puts the check carefully in his pocket.) Now that the organ is disposed of, I can plan a rousing crusade in behalf of Foreign Missions. Deacon. Yes, of course. SoPHER. Excuse me if I seem to hurry av/ay; but I must go to the bank and then settle with the organ com- pany. Deacon. I'll see you to the door. Sopher. Thank you. I'll endeavor to drop in about four. Deacon. About four. (He starts as he recalls the court's sentence.) Sopher. You haven't an engagement? Deacon. Not exactly. I — I hope not. (They ivalk ivp stage. ) Sopher. I'll come later if you wish. Deacon. No, no; don't come later. (They both exit L. D. at back talking.) Katy enters R. D. at back with fray upon which she puts the breakfast things, singing softly to herself the while. As she is about through Mrs. P. enters at L. D. at back. Mrs. P. Don't let these late breakfasts put you behind in your work, Katy. Katy. No, mum, Oi'U try not to. Mrs. p. I don't think it will happen again. Katy. Yis mum. (As she passes L. D. at back zvith tray) — Cal enters there and they collide. He catches the tray 50 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. and steadying the plates helps her through the R. D. at back. Cal. Ah, ha; caught at the home plate. {Comic exit for Katy.) Hello, Auntie. Mrs. p. I suppose your uncle told you about the pipe- organ ? Cal. He did say something about it. Mrs. p. Do you know if he paid Doctor Sopher this morning ? Cal. Search me. Mrs. p. That's what he came for. Fm sure he did and it makes me really ill. Cal. I think maybe I can loan you some money in a day or so. Mrs. p. No, Cal, you mustn't speak of such a thing. I'm sure you can find good use for all you have. Cal. I usually do, but I reckon Til have a little over. Mrs. p. How is that? Cal. Now, I don't want to shock you. Auntie. I told Uncle and I thought he'd have apoplexy. Mrs. p. {practically). You won't shock me. Go on. Cal. Fm so sure I know who's going to win that game this afternoon that Fm putting all I have on it. Mrs. p. {quietly). You mean you're betting on the game? Cal. I certainly am — every last copper. Mrs. p. {not shocked hut thouglitful). It seems to me you ought to have a good idea which team will win. Your uncle told me of your profession. Cal. Say, I think you've got sporting blood all right. I've got such a good idea that Fm telling it only to my friends. Why, they'll have to get an adding machine to keep the score. Mrs. p. I have four hundred dollars in cash that Mr. Penrose knows nothing about. I've laid it away from time to time. Do you think you could double it for me? Cal {surprised and delighted). Double it. Would you mind if I tripled it? THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 51 Mrs. p. (very businesslike). Do you think you could .^ Cal. As easy as passing a man when Em wild. Mrs. p. (making up her mind quickly). V\\ get it for you now, but not a word to your uncle. Cal. Nix. Leave it to me. Mrs. p. Just wait here a moment. (Exit Mrs. P., R. door.) . . ^TT -4 ^ Cal This is certainly getting interesting. (IJe sits at table and taking a pencil and envelope from Ins pocket begins to figure thoughtfully.) Georgie enters L. D. at back and comes quietly dozvn. Georgie. What are you doing? Cal (rising). I dunno. Figuring how I can make three dollars out of one, I guess. 1,1^ Georgie. You must be a financier if you can do that. Cal. I feel like one. Georgie. Where's everybody? Cal Everybody isn't here; but nobody is. Georgie. Oh, I don't want you to feel that way Cal. It's not your fault. You can't help it. It s the dit- ference between us; that's all. Georgie. What difference? Cal. Well, it's like this. If I'd met you four or five years ago, I'd be a different man today. Georgie. Why do you want to be different? • Cal. So that I could know you better and you d want to know me better. Georgie. You may call to see me if you wish. Cal Can I? You don't know how happy you make me. Gee, I wish I was going to pitch today ! CAU^ou'Te^made me so happy that-that I could pitch "" Georgie. Why don't you ask them. Perhaps they'll let ^""cal. No ; thev think Em a chance, and they don't take chances in the big leagues. But there is a fellow on the 52 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. team our boys play today whose measure I've had for a long time. Georgie. Who is it? Cal. Stickney — he's the right fielder. He's batting like a fiend this year ; always was good with the stick. You see I used to play against him in the minor leagues, and as many times as he's faced me I never gave him a hit. I've always had him backing away, scared and buffaloed, and I know I could do it again. Georgie. Oh, I wish they'd let you try. Cal. It's no use wishing, but I like to think about it. Georgie (leading him on). So do I. Cal (eagerly). What do you mean? Georgie. Just what I said. Cal. Say, little girl, hold tight to your chair for a sec- ond, 'cause I'm going to surprise you. Georgie (business zvitJi chair). I'm holding tight — ready. Cal (impulsively) . You've been sitting on the bench long enough. Some day I'm going to ask you to marry me. Georgie (bright and frank). When? Cal (taken off his feet). Well, it'll be soon. Georgie. You must ask father first. Cal. I have already. Georgie. What? You Jiave asked him? Cal. Not over fifteen minutes ago. Georgie (shyly). What — did father say? Enter Ruth and Harry, L. D. at back. Ruth. Georgie Sopher! Have 3'ou been here all this time ? Georgie. I just came in. Ruth (to Cal). Calvin, do you smoke cigarettes and own a cane and a bulldog? Cal. What do you think I am — a rah-rah boy? Ruth. If you don't, you'd better begin. Cal (to Georgie). What's she driving at? Georgie, Why, Ruth, you surprise me. Enter Mrs. P., R. door. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 53 Mrs. p. I meant to ask your father to stay for luncheon, Georgie. Has he gone? Georgie. I think so. Mrs. p. You'll stay, won't you? Georgie. Indeed I will, thank you. {She talks to Ruth. Mrs. p. has worked her zvay close dozvn to Gal and now quietly slips the money into his zvaiting hand.) Mrs. p. Here, Calvin. Gal. All right. Auntie. {He stuffs the bills in his pocket and looks anxiously around.) Where's Uncle? Mrs. p. Oh, I don't know. You'll be here for luncheon, won't you? Gal. No, thanks. I'll grab a bite down town and go right out to the park. Georgie (coming dozen). Are you going, Mr. Spangler? Gal (getting fidgety). Yes,- I'm late now; but I did want to say good-bye to the Deacon. Ruth. Oh, Harry, can't you persuade the manager to let Calvin pitch today? Harry. I wish I could. Gal. Don't make me smile — I've got a cracked lip. Enter Deacon, L. D. at back, much excited. Deacon. Has Calvin gone? (They all turn in surprise.) Gal (going up to meet him). No; but he's on the way. (Deacon is relieved on seeing Gal and hands him a long and bulky envelope he has in his hand.) Deacon. Calvin, will you kindly drop this letter in the mail for me? Gal (glancing at contents). Gertainly, Uncle. Mrs. p. '(quickly). I wouldn't get so excited about mail- ing a letter. Deacon. Oh — ah — it's quite important, my dear. Mrs. p. (suspicious). Who is it for? It must be a long letter. Let me see it. (She comes over to Gal zvith out- stretched hand.) Gal. Time's up— bank's closed. (He puts letter in in- side coat pocket zvith one hand and grasps Mrs. P.'s out- 54 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. stretched hand zvitJi the other.) Good-bye, Auntie, and pray hard for the Eagles. Deacon {holding out Jiis hand on opposite side). I hope you'll win. Cal (zvith meaning). Hope? Well, you'd better hope. (Mrs. p., Ruth and Harry are R. of Cal. Georgie and tJic Deacon at left.) All. Good luck, Calvin. Enter Katv, L. D, at hack. SJie comes down left. Katy. a gentleman to see Mr. Spangler. Cal. Who is it? A Plain Clothes Man enters quietly L. D. at back and comes quickly dozvn left. Katy retreats up stage. He looks over the group zvith a piercing eye, walks up center and lays one hand on Cal's shoulder, zvhile with the other he turns hack his coat for an instant to show his star. His back is to audience. Plain Clothes Man. Hello, Spangler! (Cal looks coolly at the hand on his shoulder and then directly at the man. He speaks carelessly.) Cal. Aren't you rather familiar on short acquaintance? P. C. M. Perhaps; but the Sergeant wants a little talk with you. Cal {under his breath). Pinched! Harry. I think you're making a mistake, Kelly. What's the charge? P. C. M. Resisting and assaulting an officer. (He puts arm through Cal's and Cal partly turns to go up stage. Suddenly a nezv thought comes to him and he draws him- self up and a look of determination comes into his face. Harry crosses and takes Cal's free arm.) Harry. Come on, Spangler. Pm going to see you through. {The three of them, with Cal in center, start up toward L. D. at hack. Georgie turns left, her handker- chief to her eyes. Ruth crosses and puts her arm around THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 55 her. Deacon staggers back, dazed, his hand to his head. Harry, Cal and tJie P. C. M. exit left door at back.) Mrs. p. (stamping her foot). Don't stand there like that — do something ! Curtain. Act hi. Scene: Same as Act II. A quarter of four the same day. At rise the telephone is heard ringing, and zvhcn curtain is up Deacon enters R. D. and goes to phone. Deacon. Hello, hello! Oh, yes. Overdrawn, you say? Five hundred dollars. Is that so? Well — er — ah, that was very careless of mc. When? At ten o'clock tomorrow. All right. Thank you for calling it to my attention. Good-bye. (Hangs up.) Where, oh where, will I be at ten o'clock tomorrow! (Deacon shakes his head in despair and goes up to R. D. Opens it and is about to leave zvhen a nezi's- boy is heard off L. crying an extra.) Voice (off L.). Extra paper here. All about the base- ball game. Cal Spangler goes to the box — extra paper here ! (Deacon pauses in doonvay listening.) Mrs. p. opens left door at back and pauses in similar attitude, neither one seeing the other. Voice (off L.). All about the great baseball game. Spangler goes to the box! (Deacon and Mrs. P. both rush to zvindoiv at left and pull up sharply on seeing each other.) Deacon (cautiously) . Ah, my dear. Mrs. p. Well, my dear. Deacon. I — I thought I heard someone shouting. Mrs. p. That's strange; so did I. Deacon (trying to conceal his eagerness). Possibly we were not mistaken. Mrs. p. (same business). I'm sure I heard something. 56 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Voice {off L. closer). Extra paper here! (Deacon throws lip zcindozv and leaning out gets a pink colored extra, and as he is nervously fishing in his pockets for the change, Mrs. P. takes it from him and begins reading eagerly. Deacon throzvs money out of the zvindozv and is surprised to find she has the paper.) Deacon (trying to be off hand). Is there — a-hem — is there anything in the paper of interest? (Mrs. P. trying to puzzle out the score does not hear.) What's the score — I — I mean the news? Mrs. V. Snot heeding, reading aloud). "Spangler goes to the box." Now what does that mean? Deacon. Possibly it bears some reference to our be- loved nephew. Mrs. p. What do all those zeros mean? Pm sure I can't make it out. Deacon {looking over her shoulder). Just let me glance at it, my dear. Perhaps I can throw some light on the subject. Mrs. p. {in despair). Take your old paper. Deacon (gratefully). Thank you, my dear. Mrs. p. (looking over his shoulder). Well, what do you make of it? Deacon. It's — it's about the ball game. Mrs. P. (sarcastically). Oh, really ! (Sharply.) Doesn't it give the score? Deacon. Yes, my dear, the score is — one to one — in — in the tenth inning. Mrs. p. I don't care anything about the inning. Who won the game? Deacon. The game isn't finished. Mrs. p. Isn't finished. Deacon (glancing dozvn the page). No, it — it — Enter Katy left door at back. Katy. Doctor Sopher. Deacon (crumpling up the paper). Ah, tell him I'll — I'll be there at once. Katy (starts to go up). Yis soir. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 57 SoPHER enters L. D. at back. Katy goes out L. D. at B. SoPHER. Pardon me, my dear Penrose, I couldn't wait; I must see you. {He wrings Deacon's limp hand zvarmly, while the Deacon ivith his free hand holds the paper be- lt in d him.) The organ is now a blessed reality. Deacon. You — you've really bought it, then? SoPHER. Yes, indeed ; I have a receipt for the first pay- ment and it will be shipped at once. Deacon (sadly). How I would like to see and hear it. SoPHER. So you shall in just a few days. Deacon. No, I fear not. I have premonition of im- pending doom. I shall probably be far away. Mrs. p. Far away — what in the world are you talking about? Deacon. Well, if not far away — where I can neither see nor hear. SopiiER. I do not just catch the drift of your sentiment, my dear Penrose, but I am sure it is really very fine. Deacon. It is not sentiment but presentiment that hangs so heavy on my spirits. (Pointing to the eloek.) See, the hands of time are pointing to the hour of four — the hour of my disgrace. Mrs. P. Silas Penrose, are you losing your senses? Deacon. No, my dear, only my freedom. Would it were my senses, that I might not feel the sting of disgrace. Mrs. p. What have you been reading, or is it something you ate? Deacon. Naturally you fail to understand my approach- ing collapse; but when it comes, all I ask of you both is to remember that I always tried to do my duty both as a husband and as a member of the church. SoPHER (suavely). They will both be very easy to re- member, will they not, Mrs. Penrose? (Mrs. P. is too busy studying the Deacon to anszver.) But right now I have something of more eminent importance to discuss than impending doom. Deacon (absent mindedly). Yes. What did you say? SoPHER (beaming all over). Foreign Missions! 58 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Deacon (zvildly). Foreign Missions! Ha-ha-ha! I sup- pose you would like a donation. SoPHER. Never fear, my dear Penrose, I will always give you an opportunity to contribute. But now that the pipe-organ is disposed of, I want you to rejoice with me in the impending crusade in behalf of Foreign Missions. You will hear such an appeal ring out next Sunday — Deacon (interrupting). Next Sunday! Ah, I will hear nothing but the clanking of chains and the sliding of bolts. Sopher. Chains — sliding of bolts? Mrs. p. He's worn out, Dr. Sopher. He doesn't know what he's saying. Sopher. My appeal will ring out above all else. Listen and I will give you an outline. Mrs. p. (zvorried). I think we'd all better go into the library where Mr. Penrose can lie down and rest. (They all start up.) Sopher. Very well. You will find my plans most in- spiring. (They lead Deacon off L. D. at back betiveen them.) Stage is empty for a few seconds and the Deacon re- turns disheveled and badly zvorried. He carries an old- fashioned horse pistol in his hand, rusty, with long barrel. He wanders distractedly dozvn stage and sinks limply in chair facing audience. His eyes wander to the clock, and taking the pistol in both hands and pointing it at his face, he turns his face azvay and closes his eyes. Mrs. P. enters L. D. at back and stands looking at him. Mrs. p. Silas, why did you leave Dr. Sopher? Deacon (tragically) . To prepare myself. Mrs. p. (coming dozvn). What are you talking about? What are you doing? Deacon (same business). W^aiting for the summons. Mrs. p. Summons? (Seeing the pistol.) That pistol — what does that mean? Deacon. It means — that I will not be taken alive, Mrs. p. Are you crazy, or have you been drinking? Deacon^ (same tragic business). Neither; but if you re- THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 59 call the tragedy of Julius Caesar, you will remember that Brutus, after his army had been defeated, rather than fall into the hands of the enemy, fell upon his own sword. Mrs. p. Yes, I remember that. Deacon. Well — I haven't any sword. Mrs. p. What have you got to do with Brutus? Deacon. Like him our team — I — I mean our army, has, I fear, been defeated, and I face nothing but ruin and deso- lation. Therefore, when the officers of misdirected justice come to drag me away to the place of incarceration, they will find that I am beyond the pale of the law. Mrs. p. {scornfully). And do you expect to end it with that thing? Deacon. It is the only instrument of destruction I possess. Mrs. p. {taking it from him). This thing isn't even loaded. It wouldn't go off if it were. Deacon {giving up). Then there is nothing left for me but disgrace. Enter Sopher, L. D. at hack. SoPHER. Ah, here you are. I w^as afraid something had happened. Mrs. p. You will have to excuse Mr. Penrose today, Doctor Sopher. He is not at all well. SoPHER. Certainly. I will make all due allowance for his indisposition. Let me see. We were discussing For- eign Missions — Ruth and Georgie foil owed by Harry rush in at L. D. at back, much excited, faces flushed, enthusiastic, colors flying, carrying canes with pennants attached. Scene goes quick from now to finish. Pick up cues promptly. Deacon {staggering forzvard). Who won? Harry {dozvn L.). Haven't you heard? (Deacon, Mrs. P. Sopher, Georgie and Ruth grouped at right.) Deacon, Mrs. P. and vSopher. {In unison.) No, no. Ruth. It was wonderful. 60 - THE DEACON ENTANGLED. Georgie. We all went crazy. Ruth. Tell them, Harry. Deacon. Yes, was — was Calvin there? Harry {z'ery drainatic). Was he there? Was he there? Well just you listen. I went to the police station and in less than five minutes I proved that Calvin's arrest was a mis- take. We went to the park. The game begun. It was close and the score was tied until the tenth inning. {All sho-a' intense interest throughout this recital, leaning forward and follozving every zvord.) Our pitcher weakened a little and before we realized it three men were on bases and nobody out. Stickney, the heavy hitter, came to bat. He had got a hit or a pass every time up. He was desperate. The fans were wild and yelling like mad. Cal had kept warming up a little all through the game — living on hope. He was ready. He begged for the ch^ce and they sent him to the box. Deacon (quickly). Calvin Spangler, my nephew! Georgie (quickly). Don't stop. Ruth (quickly). Go on, go on. Harry. He went in — cool as a cucumber. Quick as lightning he whipped over three strikes and Stickney faded away. Ruth (quickly). It was glorious! Georgie ^( quickly). Splendid! Harry. The others popped up little flies and the side was out. Mrs. p. Who won? Who won? How did it end? Harry (taking another breath). Wait. That's the best of all. In the next half it v/as the pitcher's turn to bat. The fans were calling for a pinch hitter, but Cal went to bat. The fans didn't know him. They groaned. The um- pire called a strike, then he fouled — two strikes. He let three wide ones go by — the count was two and three. The next one came in the groove and he drove it over the score board for a clean home run. Deacon. Where is the boy now? Harry. He started for the club house, the crowd after him. The last I saw of him thev liad him on their shoul- THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 61 ders, carrying him off the field. (Harry falls into chair dozvn left.) Georgie. Aren't you all proud of him? Ruth. Proud of him? Harry. He's a real pinch hitter. Enter Katy, L. D. at back with an air of suppressed excitement. Katy. a — a gintelman to see Mr. Penrose. Deacon. I — I can see no one today. Mrs. p. Who is it? (Katy casts dozvn her eyes, looks embarrassed, tivists a little and speaks zvith a half sup- pressed giggle.) Katy. Mr. Rafferty. Deacon. Oh! (Throzus tip his arms and collapses in chair.) Mrs. p. Rafferty! Now I will know the truth about last night. Deacon (groans). Oh! Mrs. p. Katy, show the gentleman in. Deacon (same business). Oh! KaiV. Yis, mum. Katy opens L. D. at back and Officer Rafferty enters. Mrs. p. Are you Mr. Rafferty? Rafferty. Oi am. ^ Mrs. p. What were you and Mr. Penrose doing last night ? Rafferty. He was doin' the town and Oi was doin' me duty. Mrs. p. I suspected as much. SoPHER. Surely, my good man, this is some mistake. Mrs. p. What do you want with him? Rafferty. Oi just want him to take a little ride with me, that's all. Deacon. Another ride! There is a commotion heard outside, off left, men cheer- ing and shouting themselves hoarse. "Spangler! Spangler! He's all right!" "What's the matter zmth Spangler? He's all right!" etc., etc. All on stage stop to listen and then 62 THE DEACON ENTANGLED. L. D. at back is kicked open and Cal is borne in on the shoulders of tivo enthusiastic fans {dressed in baseball uniform), who set him doivn, shake hands with him ivarmly and seeing all the people rush out confused. Cal leans against the zvall at back for a moment to regain his breath. Rafferty steps fonvard and places his hand heavily on the Deacon's shoulder. Rafferty. Will ye come along peaceable on the street car or shall I git the wagon? Cal (coming dozvn). Hold on, Copper. What d'you want ? Raffp:rty. Oi want two out of three things. Cal. Name them. Rafferty. Oi want this man or a thousand dollars, and Oi want Katy O'Rourk. Cal. Come here, Katy. (Katy conies dozvn and Cal takes her hand and puts it in one of Rafferty's, takes a roll of bills from his pocket and puts it in Rafferty's other hand as he speaks.) Take her — she's yours. Here's the thousand bucks. Now smile, look happy, have your pic- ture taken and live happy ever after. Rafferty (grinning all over). Thank ye, sir. All right, sir. Oi'll do it, sir. Mrs. p. Yes, but there was a woman in the case. Cal. Well, isn't Katy a zvoman? Katy (as she takes Rafferty's arm). I'll be giving you my week's notice, Mrs. Penrose. (Katy and Rafferty exit L. D. at back much interested in each other. Cal goes over L. to GeorgiEj zvho congratulates him in dumb shozv.) Mrs. p. So now I lose the best girl I ever had. Ruth (taking Harry's hand). Yes, mother, but you win the best son-in-law in the world. Mrs. p. What's this ? Ruth. We were married this noon. Mrs. p. Ruth Penrose! Deacon. My little sunbeam! Harry. Please forgive us. I couldn't see her go away. THE DEACON ENTANGLED. 63 (Deacon, Mrs. P., Dr. Sopher, Ruth and Harry are grouped at R. Cal and Georgie at left come dozvn a little, talking earnestly.) Georgie. And what did father say? Cal. He said, ''Certainly, my boy; certainly." Georgie. He did? Cal. Yes, and what's more, I've got a witness. Curtain. Aaron Bo^^s, Freshman By WALTER BEN HARE. Price, 25 Cents College comedy in 3 acts; 8 males, 8 females. Time. 2*^ hours. Scenes: 1 exteinor, 1 interior. Characters: Aaron from Splinter- ville. Happy Jimmie Jamieson, a susceptible junior. .Beau Car- ter, a prominent senior. Pepper Jervis, studying repose. Epenetus P. Boggs, a pillar of Splinterville. Mr. Chubb, born tired. Casey Jones, a college politician. Second-hand Abey, who does his friends good. Lizzie Feeny, a waitress but a perfect lady. Mrs. Chubb, a boarding-house keeper. Mrs. Pickens, likewise. Evelyn, Lois, Cherry and Loretta, college girls. Dollie, a vaudeville queen. SYNOPSIS. Act L — In college years, when life's at spring, The old love seems a little thing. And heads are turned by the college whirl, And the Freshman seeks a college girl. The new football star, captured in the railroad shops. "He's going to take plain sewing and cross-stitch." Paw brings Aaron to college. "Aaron made the finest graduating address ever heard on the Splinterville platform." Aaron is hazed and Lizzie Maud meets an old beau. Act II. — ■ Off with the old love, on with the new. But often the newer love won't do. The sweetest rose is the old rose pressed > And I sometimes think that the old love's best. Aaron president of the Freshman class. "Slaving for eleven students and everyone a hyena in a Norfolk jacket." "I have oat- meal to burn and sometimes I do." The telegram. "Grandson of Stephen J. Boggs, the multi-millionaire." Why did I ever send that telegram? It's all over." Act III. — For a college life is a thing apart. And a college love is a whim o' the heart. And the heart beats true, though the world seems slov/. When you love the girl, you used to know. "I thought you wanted me for myself, not for my grandfather." "I resign right now." Chubb brings home a load but forgets the wood. "Me working like a slave and him down town making a human faucet out of hisself." "She said she'd take me on o?ie condition — that was easy,. I entered with six." It's taken quite awhile to learn where I belong here at college, but I've found my- self — and I've found you." The Fascinators By WALTER BEN HARE. Price, 25 Cents Comic entertainment in one act; 13 females. Time, 40 minutes. A thorough school, open to girls between sixteen and fifty, which gives scientific training in the fascinating game of catching a hus- band. Introduces specialties and a number of songs, "Stately Lilies," "Cooking Song," etc., which are sung to familiar college airs. It ends with a very clever and amusing "Flirtation" song and drill. Particularly suitable for women's clubs and societies. T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers 154 W. Randolph Street, CHICAGO DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS Price 15 Cents Each, Postpaid, Unless Different Price Is Given M. F. Documentary Evidence, 25 min. 1 1 Dude in a Cyclone, 20 min.... 4 2 Family Strike, 20 min 3 3 First-Class Hotel, 20 min 4 For Love and Honor, 20 min.. 2 1 Fudge and a Burglar, 15 min.. 5 Fun in a Photograph Gallery, 30 min 6 10 Great Doughnut Corporation, 30 min 3 5 Great Medical Dispensary, 30 m. 6 Great Pumpkin Case, 30 min.. 12 Hans Von Smash, 30 min.... 4 3 Happy Pair, 25 min 1 1 I'm Not Mesilf at All, 25 min. 3 2 Initiating a Granger, 25 min.. 8 Irish Linen Peddler, 40 min... 3 3 Is the Editor In? 20 min... 4 2 Kansas Immigrants, 20 min... 5 1 Men Not Wanted, 30 min 8 Mike Donovan's Courtship, 15 m. 1 3 Mother Goose's Goslings, 30 m. 7 9 Mrs. Carver's Fancy Ball, 40 m. 4 3 Mrs. Stubbins' Book Agent, 30 min , 3 2 My Lord in Livery, 1 hr.... 4 3 My Neighbor's Wife, 45 min.. 3 3 My Turn Next, 45 min 4 3 My Wife's Relations, 1 hr.... 4 6 Not a Man in the House, 40 m. 5 Obstinate Family, 40 min 3 3 Only Cold Tea. 20 min 3 3 Outwitting the Colonel, 25 min. 3 2 Pair of Lunatics, 20 min 1 1 Patsy O'Wang, 35 min 4 3 Pat, the Apothecary, 35 min.. 6 2 Persecuted Dutchman, 30 min. 6 3 Regular Fix, 35 min 6 4 Rough Diamond, 40 min 4 3 Second Childhood, 15 min.... 2 2 Smith, the Aviator, 40 min... 2 3 Taking Father's Place, -30 min. 5 3 Taming a Tiger, 30 min 3 That Rascal Pat, 30 min..... 3 2 Those Red Envelopes, 25 min. 4 4 Too Much of a Good Thing, 45 min 3 6 Treasure from Egypt, 45 min. 4 1 Turn Him Out, 35 min 3 2 Two Aunts and a Photo, 20 m. 4 Two Bonnycastles, 45 min.... 3 3 Two Gentlemen in a Fix, 15 m. 2 Two Ghosts in White, 20 min.. 8 Two of a Kind, 40 min 2 3 Uncle DicK's Mistake, 20 min.. 3 2 Wanted a Correspondent, 45 m. 4 4 Wanted a Hero, 20 min 1 1 Which Will He Marry? 20 min. 2 8 Who Is Who? 40 min 3 2 Wide Enough for Two, 45 min. 5 2 Wrong Baby, 25 min 8 Yankee Peddler, 1 hr 7 3 VAUDEVILLE SKETCHES, MON- OLOGUES, ETHIOPIAN PLAYS. M. F. Ax'in' Her Father, 25 min 2 3 Booster Club of Blackville, 25 m.lO Breakfast Food for Two, 20 m. 1 1 Cold Finish, 15 min 2 1 Coon Creek Courtship, 15 min- 1 1 Coming Champion, 20 min.^.. "2 Coontown Thirteen Club, 25 m. 14 Counterfeit Bills, 20 min 1 1 Doings of a Dude, 20 min 2 1 Dutch Cocktail, 20 min 2 Five Minutes from Yell Col- lege, 1 5 min 2 For Reform, 20 min 4 Fresh Timothy Hay, 20 min.. 2 1 Glickman, the Glazier, 25 min. 1 1 Handy Andy (Negro), 12 min. 2 Her Hero, 20 min 1 1 Hey, Rube! 15 min 1 Home Run, 15 min 1 1 Hot Air, 25 min 2 1 Jumbo Jum, 30 min 4 3 Little Red School House, 20 m. 4 Love and Lather, 35 min 3 2 Marriage and After, 10 min.. 1 Mischievous Nigger, 25 min.. 4 2 Mistaken Miss, 20 min 1 1 Mr. and Mrs. Fido, 20 min 1 1 Mr. Badger's Uppers, 40 mia. 4 2 One Sweetheart for Two, 20 m. 2 Oshkosh Next Week, 20 min . . 4 Oyster Stew, 10 min 2 Pete Yansen's Gurl's Moder, 10 min 1 Pickles for Two, 15 min 2 Pooh Bah of Peacetown, 35 min. 2 2 Prof. Black's Funnygraph, 15 m. 6 Recruiting Office, 15 min 2 Sham Doctor, 10 min 4 2 Si and I, IS min 1 Special Sale, 15 min 2 Stage Struck Darky, 10 min.. 2 1 Sunny Son of Italy, 15 min.. 1 Time Table, 20 min 1 1 Tramp and the Actress, 20 min. 1 1 Troubled by Ghosts, 10 min... 4 Troubles of Rozinski, 15 min.. 1 Two Jay Detectives, 15 min.. 3 Umbrella Mender, 15 min.... 2 Uncle Bill at the Vaudeville, 15 min 1 Uncle Jefif, 25 min 5 2 Who Gits de Reward? 30 min. 5 1 A great number of Standard and Amateur Plays not found here are listed In Denlson's Catalogue T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, Publishers.154 W. Randolph St. , Chicago POPULAR ENTERTAI Price, Illustrated Paper Cov LjBRORy OF WPCI JS CtMTS MONOLOGUES GRAVy^DGAY TSDENISONi COMPANY fUSLISHERS CHICAGO TN this Series are found books touching every feature in the enter- tainment field. Finely made, good paper, clear print and each book has an attractive individual cov- er design. DIALOGUES All Sorts of Dialogues. Selected, fine for older pupils. Catchy Comic Dialogues. \'ery celver; for young people. Children's Comic Dialogues. From six to eleven years of age. Dialogues for District Schools. For country schools. Dialogues from Dickens. Thirteen selections. The Friday Afternoon Dialogues. Over 50,000 copies sold. From Tots to Teens. Dialogues and recitations. Humorous Homespun Dialogues^ For older ones. Little People's Plays. From 7 to 13 years of age. Lively Dialogues. For all ages; mostly humorous. Merry Little Dialogues. Thirty-eight original selections. When the Lessons are Over. Dialogues, drills, plays. Wide Awake Dialogues. Brand new, original, successful. SPEAKERS, MONOLOGUES Choice Pieces for Little People. A child's speaker. The Comic Entertainer. Recitations, monologues, dialogues. Dialect Readings. Irish, Dutch, Negro, Scotch, etc. The Favorite Speaker. Choice prose and poetry. The Friday Afternoon., Speaker. For pupils of all ages. Humorous IVIonologues. Particularly for ladies. Monologues for Young Folks. Clever, humorous, original. Monologues Grave and Gay. Dramatic and humorous. The Patriotic Speaker. Master thoughts of master minds. Th ..,|L o^\*? 348 489 t, humor, satire, lun..^ CONGRESS Pomes ov ...;- w-ro m