«-> ' -r, • ’■^' "SI® 14 THgEE-ACt PLAY FOk i. ■,•■- ' i’ . ■■:■,>(■. ■■ ,l;- '• Bors v4M> YOUNG MEN 'V ‘ •; •' -■ ;'r.-'-.^>^ -V ■'■• ■.*' ■ . > ’'.v' V'.' ■■. iU'-^.s ^. .:■■ y -v^' ■’ ,'■: <-'.v-c> '■ ■• ". '- '^■.'V'’:.-: -^ ^:' ■: '"V '■ ■■ -^ ■*';'t,'''A':^': v ■' ‘'S'';;-4 'vt^'-'-C '.-A A !,;.■; it'ifr .■■' .■:.••,■■.. I- :.'>, A’;St vk'•■■-: ;;‘).'}.;';Ss‘i:Mi:-AAVkH■ 'AS jS^A V ' . ■' " ■, ; l/.vA-'; k®- k-','- •• ' / ' i \' V' '■ ■'' S.- 'V A.;®vSvA^ls::-ii:vSA,^ .'s ',v)V> .--t v, ,v’: '. V",: Y:-- , ■ ■' ' J.‘,- '■•■ Si','. 'a’ 'j-,'. ' -s 'A'-',.. „u ,,\ , 'A' Au-v,;';; ;. ' . ' ■-;, ' ;• ; ' ■; ,.■ i. H.y-:' .. ■'; Aky »'.r ; By I. Rev. P. J CARROLL, C S C. ■'< TA-rAri-',. V ,..■ yS'- ‘ i ‘•AiiVAir . \ V ,t '■: /'■■ A i ' . ?l '■.. ■■• 'A/, !' 1.1 I ■'<' J: •■ ■' ' ■ ■■' ■ ''■•:■ 'I'- -1 ',< ■ -r., AyS, .jS';,;?:\ • : y- r/,>-\' . •-■■ V ".a;--,- :»v'.'i -■.■"• vs.'1/a-■■/-•-■■ ■'‘a ■ , ■ '/•. w-; •■ Ship in the W^ahe ' / a Three Act Play For Boy s and Young Men By Rev. P. J. Carroll, C. S. C. Publiahed by the Author 226 North Hill St., South Bend, Ind. Copyrighted 1916 BY Rev. P. J. CARROLL, C. All Rights Reserved AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED TO THE ORIGINAL CAST Father Hyland—Spiritual Director of the Junior Holy Name Society__Ulrich Hiss Frank Moore—President_Edmund Probst Will Foster—Vice-President_Edmund Luther John Pierce—Treasurer_Elmer Kline Don Wise—Secretary_Harold Winkler LEADING MEMBERS Tommie Donovan_ “Red” Werner_ “Mope” Templeton_ “Spots” Bayfield_ George Eyre _ Ray Higgens_ Dick Johnson _ Lemon Lennihan_ “Toby” Tucker _ Ralph Regan_ “Happy” Anderson_ “Skinny” McCabe_ “Dude” Weeman (who won’t join) _Howard Daveline _Joseph Zangerle _ William Braunsdorf _Louis Kinerk _Lawrence Miller Harold Archambeault _Edward Keller _Paul Beriault _Arthur Howard _Melvin Humphrey _Elmer Kline Aloysius Lamirand _Clayson Hauck MEMBERS OF MAGNOLIA CLUB Prank Hewutt_ Everett Browm_ Ernest Smithson_ Harold Dixon_ Ebberfield Chesterton_^- Leeland Stanton_ . I'Who wish to be called-! Catherine _ \ | Book Agent _ A Pilgrim in Need_ Little Girl_ _Ralph Cressy __ Bernard McCaffery _ John Guendling _Lawrence Daveline _Clifford Davies _Maurice Thornton _Maurice Thornton _Ruth Frain __ Lawrence Daveline _Ralph Cressy % _Mary Joyce PERSONS IN THE PLAY. Prominent Alembers. Father Hyland— Spiritual Director of the Junior Holy Name Society. Prank Moore-— The President. Will Foster— The Vice-President. John Pierce— The Treasurer. Don Wise— The Secretary. Tommie Donovan ‘^Red’^ Werner “Mope^^ Templeton ‘‘Spots^^ Bayfield George Eyre Ray Higgins Dick Johnson ‘‘Lemon^’ Lennihan Toby Tucker Ralph Regan ‘‘Happy’’ Anderson “Skinny” McCabe “Dude” Weeman-— Who won’t join. Everett Brown Ernest Smithson Harold Dixon Ebberfield Chesterton Leeland Stanton Prank Hewitt John ) wish to be “called.” Catherine ) Book Agent. A Pilgrim in Need. Little Girl. TIME-THIS YEAR. PLACE—A SMALL TOWN. Members of the Mangolia Club, ACT. 1. Scene I. — Street in a Small Town, Scene II. — Priest’s Study. ACT II. Scene I. — -Mangolia Glut) Room. Scene II. — Gymnasium of Junior Holy Name. ACT HI. Scene I. — Mangolia Glut) Room. Scene II. — Meeting Room of Junior Holy Name. A ACT. I. Scene I. Time— 3:30 P. M. Mid-June. Scene —Street corner. Children just dismissed from school. People passing hack and forth. Moore^ Foster_, Pierce, Wise, Donovan, Werner enter carry¬ ing school hooks. Groups of children pass along on the sidewalk. Two hoys discovered pitching pennies when the curtain goes up. Moore —One more week, kids, an’ then school will be out. Then I’m goin’ fishin’. Foster —If I don’t pass. Dad said I’d have to hoe beans all summer. Pierce —That’s cause you ain’t got no bean. Foster — [Ironically] Say, but you’re some smart guy! Wise —Dude Weeman’s goin’ to stylish ’cademy in the East where rich guys go. Donovan —Who told you^t Wise —His ma. Said kids round here too rough. Werner —Huh! Dude never goes with us guys anyhow, so how does he know? Templeton —That’s right. Dude hangs out at the—what’s that you call that place? Bayfield —Mangolia Club, you boob. Templeton —Mangolia Club—yeh, that’s it. Bayfield —Dude’s stuck on himself anyhow. Like to bat him one [striking palm with fist]. Eyre —Yeh, so would I, too I Higgins —That ain’t ’lowed. Eyre —Why ain’t it? Higgins —Shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. Shalt not kill! Eyre —Huh! who’s killin’, I’d like to know ? Higgins —Well, ’tain’t allowed, that’s all. Didn’t I punch a kid an’ didn’t I get it at confesh’ next Saturday! Johnson —Dude don’t belong to the Junior Holy Name, does he ? Lennihan —Nab ; an’ he never goes to the gym, either. Tucker —Course he don’t; I’d biff him one with the boxin’ gloves if he did. Higgins —That ain’t allowed. Tucker —Huh, where d’^^e get that stuff? Higgins —Shalt love thv neighbor as thvself. Shalt not kill. 5 Regan —Higgins, what shu tryin’ to give us? Higgins —Well, ain’t that the catechism? An’ didn’t I punch a guy once an’ didn’t I get it next Saturday? Regan —Well, he’s a dude. ’Spect he should join some girls’ club. Tucker —Like to biff him one ffrst. Anderson —What fur? Tucker —So his nose would bleed, an’ then I bet shu he’d be a kid. McCal)e —Well, if a kid wants to go East to school, what’s the diff? Moore —Lots a diff. McCahe —Well, what diff? Moore —Well, lie’ll get in with a bunch of smart guys, an’ he Avon’t go to confession any more. Higgins —That’s rash judgment. Tucker —Say, Hig, you must be tryin’ for the job o’ teach- in’ Sunday School. Higgins—{Looking at the others'] Well, ain’t it right, kids, ain’t it right? Judge not an’ thou shalt not be judged. Regan —Sa}^, kids, ain’t that aAvful? Just Avhen you want to do somethin’ a’Ou Avant to, another guy comes in an’ says, ‘‘Thou shalt not,” or somethin’. Moore —Hig is right, kids, Hig is right. We ain’t got no business talkin’ about Dude, ’cause it’s Avrong to knock a guy. Tucker —Well, I’d like to knock him one good one on the nose, an’ then he could go East to that ’cademy or AvhereA^er he Avanted to. Anderson —Sister said we shouldn’t be scrappin’. McCahe- —Naw, she didn’t say “scrappin’.” Anderson —Well, what did she say then? McCahe —She said [imitating], “Boys, boys, you must not engage in rude fighting.” Lenniha?! —Rude fighting! Good night! McCahc —Yep, rude fightin’ [illustrating] meanin’ upper¬ cuts an’ such. Eyre —Say, kids, let’s quit crabbin’, live in peace an’ har¬ mony an’ go to the gym. Bayfield —Amen! Werner —Ain’t got my tennis shoes. Bayfield —What’s the diff? Donovan —Lots o’ diff. You let Father Hyland see you Avithout tennis shoes an’ jou’ll find out what’s the diff. Bayfield —Well, I guess he saw me without tennis shoes t’other day an’ he didn’t do nothin’. Donovan —Aw, what shu givin’ us? 6 Bayfield —On the square. Donovan —Tell us ’bout it. Bayfield —Well, I jes’ went into the gym without my .ten¬ nis shoes an’ began placin’. Father Hyland comes in an’ says [imitatingly “Young man, where are your tennis shoes?” “Home,” says I. “Best go an’ get ’em,” says he. “O, I don’t know ’bout that,” says I. “Well, I know,” says he. “O, I don’t think so,” says I. “All right, then,” says Father Hyland, “an’ excuse me, an’ I beg your pardon.” Wise — [Ironically] Yes, you said all that! Anderson — [Ironically] O, yes, you did! Bayfield —Well, ain’t it the truth? Wise —No, of course ’tain’t, an’ you know ’tain’t. Anderson —No, sir-ee, it’s a lie. Eyre —Yes, sir, a lie. Bayfield —Well, it’s a lie in fun, an’ that ain’t no lie. Moore —Sa}’, kids, it’s near four o’clock; let’s go to the gym. Bayfield —Yeh, I want a little basket-ball. Wise —An’ I want a little boxin’. Werner —An’ I want a few swings on the bar. Johnson —An’ I want a game of indoor. Tucker —Cornin’, Lemon? Lennihan —Naw; got to go to the hardware store for my dad. Tucker —Cornin’, Hig? Higgins —Can’t; got to mow the lawn. Moore —Now, fellows, let’s play fair an’ have a good time. Bayfield —An’ say, fellows, don’t let us forget and ask Fa¬ ther Hyland about the circus. Eyre —That’s right, the circus! Who’ll ask the permish? Bayfield —The president an’ vice-president, of course. Werner —That’s right, Frank an’ Bill. [Exeunt all except Higgins and Lennihan, who continue to pitch pennies. Enter TFeeman.] Higgins —Hello, Dude. Where you goin’? Weenian — [Coldly] To the club. Higgins —Why don’t shu come into the gym with the fellows? Weeman —Don’t care to; they’re so rough. Besides, I’ve a swell time over at the club. Lennihan —Gee, Dude, you ought to get in with the bunch. Those club fellows are stuck up; besides, 3^011 don’t belong with them. 7 Weeman —Well, I guess I do. Do you suppose I’m goin’ to stick around with a bunch of rough-necks? No, sir— ^the club.for me! Higgins —Now look here. Dude, you’ll be sorry some day. You know Father Hyland wants every kid to join the Junior Holy Name. You might just as well stick around with your own crowd. Weeman —Nix on that! Don’t catch me joinin’ that thing. Don’t have to; goin’ to Waverly ’Cademy in September. Lennihan —You’ll be sorry for goin’ way off there. Now see if you don’t! Weeman —Well, I’m goin’ all right. I’ll tell Father Hy¬ land this afternoon. See me have a good time when I go East! [Exit.'] Higgins —Say, Lemon, I’m sorry for that kid. Lennihan —Why ? Higgins —’Cause he runs round with a bunch he don’t be¬ long to an’ don’t stick in with his own crowd. Lennihan —Guess that’s right. Well, so long, Hig. I’ve got to go to the hardware store for my dad. [Exit.] Higgins —Dude, the poor kid! Gosh, I wish he’d join the Junior Holy Name, and go to Communion with the rest o’ the kids! [Curtain.] Scene II. Ti ME —if P. ]\I. ]\d^'i(%~June, Scene — Father Hyland’s Study. Large table in centre of room. A bookcase, chairs, pictures, etc. Father Hyland seated at desk writing when curtain goes up. Desk tele¬ phone. Father Hyland —Well, I must get this lecture on the ‘Worth of an Ideal” for the Women’s Guild of Combined Charities for Wednesday evening if I have to sit up all night. I wonder Avhy I was so foolish as to consent to lecture in the first place. A lot of women—mostly idle, mostly talking women, for an audience. Surely one has enough to do Avithout starting off on the lecture platform—God save the mark! Now there’s the St. Vincent de Paul, the Young Men’s Club, the Sodalities, and, worst of all, the crowd of Junior Holy Name boys. [Pauses.] Why are boys, anyhow? [Pauses.] I won¬ der. Well, Avell, this won’t do; I must get after that lecture. Let me see? “The Worth of an Ideal?” What is an ideal worth, to begin with? Or rather, what is an ideal? [Pauses.] I wonder? But I mus’n’t let the Women’s Guild of Combined Charities know I’m wondering. Let me see? [Pauses to re- 8 fleet.] How shall I begin? [Pauses.] Very dignified in this manner. [Begins writing.] ‘‘My dear Ladies of the Women’s Guild of the Combined Charities: It gives me great pleasure to open” [door hell rings] the door in this instance. Come in. [Enters Book Agent, loho carries large suit-case.] Book Agent—[Smiling] Father Hyland, I believe? Father Hyland—[Yery stiffly] Yes, sir. Book Agent —Father, I represent the Belmont Publishing Company of New York, that is just putting on the market a twelve-volume Encyclopedia containing all possible informa¬ tion on every conceivable subject. No business, professional or educated man can afford to be without this most imposing product of the human brain. Now, if you’ll just give me a few moments of your valuable time. I’ll produce for 3 ou [begins to open a suit-case]. Father Hyland — [Standing^ up] My dear man, I’m busy. Book Agent—[Continuing to open suit-case] Yes, but Fa¬ ther, no man— Father Hyland —I’m busy, I tell you! Book Agent—[Still icorking at the suit-case] Now, Fa¬ ther, in one moment I’ll show you the whole assortment of— Father Hyland —I’m busy; I don’t want your whole as¬ sortment. Go! Book Agent —Well, then, perhaps you’ll permit me to leave some literature. Father Hyland —No, I don’t want you to leave literature. I want you to leave. [Exit Book Agent slowly.] Book Agent—[Going out] Good day. Father. Father Hyland —Good day to j^ou, sir. Book agents have enough brass for a whole brass foundry! Well, I’m rid of him, anyhow. [Goes hack to his desk and reads his MS.] “My dear Ladies of the Women’s Guild of Combined Charities: It gives me great pleasure to open [icrites] your first general meeting this evening. I feel 3 ^ou are women of vast purposes and high ideals, hence I have decided to—” [Telephone rings.] Good heavens! Can’t a man have a minute to himself! [Takes down receiver.] 334. Yes, this is the priest’s house. When will the 10 :30 mass be next Sunda}" ? Wh}^, at 10 :30 most prob¬ ably', madam. [Hamgs up receiver with a hang.] Let me see? Where was I? O, yes—“I feel [reading] you are women of vast purposes and high ideals, hence I have decided to [begins ivriting] to speak to you on the ‘Worth of an Ideal.’ The world today is sadly in need of uplift, of an awakening to the touch of holier things.” [Door hell. Enter Little Girl.] JAttle Girl —Father, mamma wants to know if you found her beads? 9 Father Hyland —No, dear, I didn’t find her beads. Where did she lose them? Little Girl —Somewhere. Father Hyland —Somewhere? No doubt, no doubt, indeed. Little Girl —^What’ll I tell my mamma? Father Hyland —Tell your mamma to be good and not to lose her beads next time. {Gives Little Girl a pair of heads. She goes out and, returns again almost immediately.] Little Girl —Thank you. Father. Good-bye, Father. Father H .— [With mock-solemnity) Madam, I say you farewell. [After a pause.] ^The world today is sadly in need of uplift, of an awakening to the touch of holier things. [Re¬ sumes writing.] The age is a sordid one. Getting and spend¬ ing we lay Avaste our powers. The clamor for money is dinned into our ears until Ave grow heart-sick.” [Door bell rings.] Come in! [Enter Tvamp.] Father Hyland — [Aside.] Yes, here comes the clamor for money. Tramp —Father, I’s just a guy as got out o’ the hospital in South America an’ had to tramp all the way here. Father Hyland — [Ironically.] Considerable journey, I’m sure! Tramp—[Approaching nearer to the desk.] HaA^en’t had a bite since I left there, an’ I’d be jest aAvful thankful. Father, if you’d haA'e a feAv^ spare dimes about you. Father Hyland—[With a show of reflecting.] A few dimes? That’s thirty cents. Times are hard, friend. We have any number of deserving poor right here at home. Tramp — [Appealingly.] Father, you surely wouldn’t re¬ fuse a poor guy thirty cents? Father Hyland —I wouldn’t, eh? You don’t know me, my dear sir. Tramp —’Fore God, Father, I used to be a good guy in my young days! Served mass when I was a kid; have six broth¬ ers priests and four sisters nuns. Father Hyland —My, but you must belong to a pious fam¬ ily! Noav look here, friend, I know every word you say is a lie. You liA^e a lie and, of course, you cannot help telling lies! Noav, if I give you thirty cents you’d spend it in the next sa¬ loon. Tramp —No, honest. Father, I won’t. I’ll spend ten cents for a drink and twenty cents for grub. Father Hyland—[Taking change from his pocket and counting with deliberation.] Then I’ll giA^e you twenty cents for the grub and you get along without any drink. 10 Tramp —Thank you, Father. [Aside.] Guess ITl change my mind. I’ll spend a dime for the grub and a dime for a drink. [Exit.] Father Hyland —That’s positively the last time I’ll ever give money to a tramp! [Goes hack to lecture.] Let me see? [Reading.] Yes—“The clamor for money is dinned into our ears until we grow heart-sick.” Then the tramp came in at this point with six brothers priests and four sisters nuns and, of course, my heart melted. Let me think? Yes— [Writing.] “With the world of today, what we have is set above what we are. A man’s money is more than a man’s self. To un”— [Telephone. Answers sharptly.] Well? The Range Factory? Do we install hot-air plants? [Disgusted.] No, no, you mis¬ take. We don’t deliver hot air—at least not always. Good day, sir. Don’t mention it. [Resumes writing^.] “To under¬ stand fully the meaning of life we must hold the ideals of life highly. Truth, justice, chariW, mercy are to guide us in our dealings with our fellows.” [Door hell rings.] Now how can a man think? Come in! [Enter Moore and Foster.] Father Hyland—WcWl Moore —Father, the kids sent us guys over to ask to get out o’ school tomorrow so we could see the circus. Father Hyland—[Pretending with mock-solemnity not to vndcrstand.] I do not get your thought. Foster —The guys said we should come over and ask you to let us go to the circus. Father Hyland — [Pretending to he mystified.] Guys? Kids? I do not comprehend. Moore —Well, we’d like to go to the circus. Father Hyland —Who? Moore and Foster —Us kids. Father Hyland —Kids? Kids? Are not kids young goats? Moore — [Coaxing.] Please, Father, ken we? Father Hyland —No, you kent! Foster —Just this once. Father, please! We haven’t been to a circus this year. Father Hyland—[With mock dramatic effect.] Sirs, I am not in the giving mood today. Moore —Gee, whiz ! X Foster —Please, Father, loosen uj)! Father Hyland —I repeat, I am not in the giving mood -todav. t Moore —Won’t you please. Father! Foster —O, please! Father Hyland — [Reflects for a moment.] Boys, you may 11 • ,*1 go. Keturn and ask correctly. After that, we will consider your request. [A sweep of the hand indicating dismissal.] You may now consider the matter of your departure. Moore and Foster—[Going out slowly.] Thank you, Fa¬ ther. Father Hyland —Those boys! And yet what would life be if there were no boys! Well, weTl try the lecture again. [Reads.] ‘Truth, justice, charity, mercy are to guide us in our dealings with our fellows. [Writes.] “Men today live high and think low.” Good contrast, that! “They live on the roof and think in the cellar.” A touch of humor for the low-brows. [Door hell rings.] Come in! [Louder.] Come in! [Enter young couple who appear very hashful.] Ah, John, how do you do; and Catherine, how are you? [Each one answers 'A^ery well, Father, thank you.”] Be seated. [They sit down. A long pause during which John fingers his hat and looks at Cathe¬ rine. She in turn shows signs of hashfillness.] John — [Hesitating and looking at Catherine.] Well, Fa¬ ther, we came in to-to be called. Father Hyland —In to be called? To be called what? John —Sunda 3 ^ Father Hyland —Sunday? John —Yes, next Sunday. We have been thinking about— are going—have decided to be married. Father Hyland—[Pretending to he enlightened.] O! I see, I see. [Pause.] How old are you, John? [Pause, during ivhich he looks at John.] John —Twenty-two. Father. Father Hyland —And you, Catherine? [Pause, during lohich he looks at Catherine.] Catherine —Twenty, Father. Father Hyland—[After another long pause, looking from one to the other, in an aside.] So young and j^et so wise! [To them.] Yes, V\\ announce you. Catherine — [Rising and tvalking to the desk.] Father, I’d like to have two bridesmaids. Father Hyland — Certainl}^ — or a dozen if you like. [Telephone.] Yes, this is Father Hyland. O, you’re Mrs. Brown and you’d like to call in to see me on some business. Well, the fact is, Mrs. Brown, I’m very busy most of the day— Oh, you want to rent a pew! Why, sure; come right up any time. [Hangs up telephone, walks up to John and shakes hands.] Good day and good luck to you, John. JoJm —Good day, and thank you. Father. Father Hyland—[Shaking hands with Catherine.] Good afternoon, Catherine. 12 Catherine —Good afternoon, Father. Father Hyland—[Still standmg, muses.'] ^‘They live on the roof and think in the cellar!” [Sits down and resumes writing.] ‘‘The passion for speech leaves no time for calm con¬ secutive thinking. People’s tongues are worn from usage, while their brains gather rust. The old domestic virtues are forgot¬ ten in the clamor for the sentimentallv heroic. Women think.” [Door hell rings.] Heavens! These interruptions are unbear¬ able. Come in! [Enter Moore and Foster.] Again! Moore and Foster—[Boiving very solemnly.] Father, the boys of your parochial school most humbly request you to give them permission to see the circus which will appear in our city tomorrow. [Both how second time.] Father Hyland—[With mock solemnity.] We will con¬ sider your request and will answer you in a less dispassioned moment. Go,—and stand not upon the order of your going. [They go out slowly. Telephone hell rings.] Well! You want to know if we have any fresh eggs? Why, certainly not—we don’t keep Such things; everything is stale around here. No, this is not the grocery. Where is the grocery? Consult the telephone book and I’m sure you’ll locate one. Good after¬ noon ! [Enter Weeman dressed very stylishly.] [Aside.] An¬ other interruption! Heavens, I’ll never get that lecture! Well? Weeman —I just dropped in to tell you I’ve decided to go to Waverly Academy next September. Father Hyland — [Ironically.] O! so you’ve decided, eh? And who are you to decide? A mere boy, a green youngster, a lad still in his salad days. So, so, you have decided to attend Waverly Academy! Weeman — [Doggedly.] Well, my mother said I could go. Father Hyland —Of course, of course. Mothers sometimes do very foolish things. Weeman —Besides, I don’t like it round here. The boys aren’t a bit nice. Mother said I must get in with a better set. Father Hyland — [Forcibly.] Young man, I know your case. It’s as common as house flies. You’ve money and you want to move in big company. It’s the curse of money that wlien people get it, they want to pass out of the lives of simple people to the lives of people who spend and enjoy. You think because you’ve more money than other boys around here, you’re better than they are. A big purse often means a big head. Of course you don’t care for our boys; they don’t wear belts, and haven’t white socks and can’t shoot round corners in a Pierce- Arrow. Of course vou don’t care for them. That’s whv you’re never with them at Communion; that’s whv you’re not at their meetings; that’s why you weren’t with them at their ])icnic. 13 You move higher up—at the Maiigolia Club, out at the golf links, off at the lakes where the rich people enjoy themselves. Young man, you have a good father; but if he did the right thing with you, you’d be driving a team of horses instead of a Pierce-Arrow. Young man, you’re getting into the wrong line of march. You belong to the Holy Name Juniors and you’re trying to keep step with the silk stockings of the Mangolia Club. You can’t keep up with them—their ])ace is too swift. Just see where you’ll land! Weeman — [Doggedly.] Well, I’ve made up my mind to go. Father Hyland —Of course 3 "ou have, and I’m not hoping to alter it. Before a man can change his mind he must have a mind to change. Go ahead! When ,vou’re wrecked on the white-decked Mangolia we’ll send a life-boat with some Holy Name bo^^s to get you. In trying to keep ,your socks white see that .your soul doesn’t get soiled. [Exit Weeman.] And .vet he’s one of m.v own bo.vs. I niusn’t let him go this way. [Walks to the door and calls “Weeman.'” Re-enter Weeman.] Father Hyland —Good-bve and God bless you I Weeman —Good-bye, Father. [Exit slowly.] Father Hyland —And I’m supposed to lecture to a lot of socieW women! Hang the lecture! What’s the use? I’m writing about high thinking and simple liying, and here is one of 1113 ^ own bo.ys going to the devil. [Telephone rings. Takes up receiver quickly.] Hello! What’s the matter with me? Nothing. I seem peeved? Well, I can’t be grinning all the time like an ape, can I? How’s the lecture coming? What lecture? O! the lecture to the Women’s Club. Well, that’s called off. When? Now. Yes, now; right now. Good after¬ noon. [Hangs up receiver.] No, lecturing is not the business for me. If I start it eveiw boy in the })arish will be s|)ending his money in Waverl.v Academ 3 ’ and losing his faith. [Throw¬ ing away each one of the sheets of paper on which he has tvrit- ten his lecture.] There .you go, “high thinking and low living”; there .vou go, “culture and art”; there .you go, “high ideals and lofty purposes.” [Takes up his office hook and sits down. Makes sign of the cross.] Guess I’ll pra.y for the Women’s Guild of Combined Charities. [As he hegxns. door and tele¬ phone hells ring. He looks from one to the other hopelessly.] [Curtain.] 14 ACT II. Scene I. Time — 10 P. J/., two days hefot'e Weeman leaves for Wat'erh/ Academy in September. Scene — Manyolia Chib Room. Pennants hung from the icalls. Pictures of actresses, baseball players, etc. A lounge, rock¬ ing chairs, a table, etc. Bkown^ S:NnTHSON^ Dixon, Chesterton_, Stanton^ Hewitt arc sitting or lolling around the room in different attitudes, llroicn —Say, Smithson, Iioav did you like tlie show last night? Smithson —Punk; too much preach. Something spicy for me. Stanton —I didn’t go. Saw it in Chicago; went for a ride instead and got home at twelye. Dixon —I was at the park. Hand me a cigaret, Ernie. [Smithson hands silver case of cigarets.] Chesterton —Say, fellows, do you know that bunch o’ girls we saw at the Fraternity dance Wednesday? Hewitt —Huh, huh. Peaches, weren’t they? Chesterton —Huh, huh. Well, I’m goin’ to take ’em out ridin’ Thursday night. We’ll haye supper at the Hayerly Club, and then home by one-thirty A. M.! Brown —What will the old man say, dies? Chesterton —O, the old man won’t mind. He goes to bed at eight-thirty, and at one-thirty A. M. ’twould take a cannon to wake him. Smithson —Let’s haye a game, fellows. Get the cards, Dix. This thing is too dull. [Dixon gets pack of cards; the others bring chairs to the center of room. All sit around tabic for a game of poker.^ Stanton —What’s the limit, fellows—a quarter? Hewitt —Say, but you’re cheap, Stan I Let’s make it worth while. Fifty cents and Clies for pot-master. Stanton —All right. [They begin to play the game. Wee- man enter s.'\ Brown —Hello, Weeman old boy. Where the deyil haye 3 mu been keepin’ yourself? Hayen’t seen you for a week. Home with mamma, eh? [All laugh.'\ ^yeeman — [Sivaggering.^ Nope. Old lady hasn’t seen me for a couple of days; been in Chicago. Stanton —Coin’ it fast, eh? Weeman —O, some. Leaving for the East Friday. Stanton —Where to? [To Dixon.] Deal, Dix. Weeman —Wayerly Academy. e C' 15 Stanton —Pretty swell place. I’m goin’ to Exmore. [To the dealer.] Pass! Brow^n—[To the dealer.] Three, Dix. [To Weeman.] your crowd going with you, Weeman? Weeman—[Showing surprise.] My crowd? Brown—[To the players.] I’m in. Chip in, Stan. [To Weeman.] You know what I mean. That bunch you hang out with down there on the North Side. Weeman —I don’t get shu. Chesterton—[To dealer.] Two cards. Stanton—[To dealer.] Three. Broivn —Yes, you do get me. I mean that crowd of fel¬ lows down there where 3 "ou live. Weeman —O, I got shu now. I never go with that bunch. Hewitt—[To players.] I bet a quarter. Brown—[To Hewitt.] See you. [To Weeman.] You’d better not if you want to keep in here. Weeman —Don’t be afraid. I’ll keep good and far away from that crowd. Chesterton —Play, Dix. Hand me a cigaret, Smithson. Have one, Weeman. [They light cigarets. Knock on the door.] Brown — [Shouting so as to he heard outside.] Who’s there ? Chesterton —Be careful. Brown! You knoAv gamblin’ is against the law. Smithson —Say, that’s right, fellows. And it might be a cop, too! [Another knock.] Go and see who it is, Dix. [Dixon goes to door and opens. Voice outside: “Is Dude Weeman in there? His mother wants him.’’] Smithson — [To those inside in a loud whisper.] Two rough-necks from Weeman’s section, fellows. Broivn—[To those inside.] Say, fellows, let’s move the table away, get the chips off and have some fun with ’em. That’s as much sport as anything else. [They move the table to one side and gather up the chips.] [Enter Moore and Foster.] Smithson — [Very forcibly so as to frighten the two.] Well, what brings you in here, I’d like to know? Can’t you get it into your head that this is a private club? Moore — [Surveying the room leisurely.] Well, we-a— [Seeing Weeman.] O, hello. Dude! [To Moore.] Well, we came in because you asked us to. We knocked first. Smithson —6, j^ou knocked first, eh? Well, probably you’ll get knocked second. Moore —Don’t know. You can’t tell. Dixon—[To Foster.] And where do you live? 16 Foster —In a house. Dixoii —No, not in a house; in a shack. Foster —Is it? Come round some time an’ make sure. Dixon — [Ii^ojiically.] Yes, I will! I’d like to see myself going into the rickety house where your old man lives. Foster —Now listen, fellow, you can say all you want to about the old shack, as you call it. But don’t you say anything ’bout my dad. Dixon —Well, I guess I’ll say whatever I feel like. Foster —No you won’t—if it’s ’bout my dad. Moore—[To Dixon.] Now look here. Mister, we didn’t come in here to start a scrap, an’ we ain’t goin’ to. We just came in to tell Dude Weeman his mother wants him. Dixon —[To Weeman.] Huh! Tied to your ma, eh? Smithson—[To Weeman.] Better go home, dearie, your ma wants you! [^femhers of Mangolia laugh and ridicule Weeman.] Weeman — [Angrily to Moore and Foster.] Now you fel¬ lows have got no business buttin’ in here. You just never mind coinin’ in, but tend to your own business. Don’t know you fellows; don’t want to have anything to do with you, do you hear? Moore —Dude, I just want to explain that your mother sent over to the gym to ask a couple o’ fellows to hunt you up. She Avanted to see you pretty bad. Well, we decided we’d hunt you up, an’ that’s why we’re here. Now, Dude, if you [looking round at the others] or any of you guys think we skulked in on 3 'ou to be one o’ you or have anything to do with you, you’re verv much mistaken. Smithson —Well, it’s not likely we’d let two rough-necks like vou in on us—if we knew it. You’re not in our class. ft. Dixon —No, you belong to the cheap set. Probably your mother takes in washing. Moore — [Stepping toivard Dixon.] Now, just cut that, kid, or there’ll be trouble. Dixon — [Stepping toward Moore.] No, I Avon’t cut it, you low-doAvn. What right have you got in here, anyway? Get out—or I’ll kick you out. Moore —I’ll get out all right, but you won’t kick me out. Dixon —Yes, I will. [Pushes Moore.] Moore —Be careful, felloAA^ I’ll get out all right; but I don’t AA’ant you to think you can kick me out. Chesterton — [Stepping, up.] Biff him one, Dix! Stanton —Punch his face for him! Smithson —Smash him, Dix, or I Avill! 17 Foster—[Stepping between Moore and Smithsjn.] No, sir ! Yon just stay right where you are. Brown —Say, fellows, let’s all clean up on ’em! Moore — [Loo'ks around and counts.] One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. Seven ’gen two. Gee, but you’re brave I Sniithson —No, it don’t take seven. Here’s a pair of gloves [hands gloves] an’ if I don’t lick you alone. I’ll never ride an¬ other Pierce-Arrow. Come, put on the gloves! Moore — [QiiietJy.] Don’t think so. Ain’t fond o’ fightin’. Smithson —No, you little measly, beggarly coward; of course you’re not fond o’ fightin’. Put on the gloves or T’ll make pulp o’ you, do you hear? Moore — [Slowly.] Now let me see? No, sport, ’tain't that I’m a coward or afraid o’ vou, for I ain’t. It’s somethin’ else. Say, Foster, [aside to Foster] do you think I’m allowed to fight the guy? You know Father Hvland said we shouldn’t be pickin’ up quarrels. Foster—[Aside to Moore.] You ain’t pickin’ up no quar¬ rel; he’s startin’ it. Moore—[Aside to Foster.] Think it’s all right to go in? Foster — [Aside to Moore.] Sure thing, kid, he’s startin’ it. [During this conversation S:mithsox takes off coat and puts on gloves.] Smithson — [Coming near Moore.] So you’re yellow, eh? You coward! Moore —No, I’m not yellow, nor a coward, but L don't be¬ lieve in flightin’. Smithson —Well, to show you you’re yellow and a coward, take that and shut up! [Smithson hits Moore with his gloved fist on the face.] Moore—[Flinging off his coat.] All right, I’m with you. [Foster helps him to put on gloves. They begin to fight. Dur¬ ing the boxing contest Smithson’s friends encourage him with, ‘^Biff him, Smithie.'” ‘^Land a good one, Ernie. ''Lead off!'^ ^‘Hammer him one!” etc.] Foster—[Keeping behhid Moore.] Watch your o])enin’, Frank! Let him do the leadin’, kid! Nice guard! [They . fight for some moments. At the proper time Foster says, ^‘Rush him, kid; he’s all in.” Moore ru.shes on Smithson, hits him several times in quick succession and finally knocks Smith- son out. Foster helps Moore to take off the gloves and to put on his coat. The others try to revive Smithson. All the mem¬ bers of the MangoUa Club are silent. Foster goes out, followed by Moore. Just at the door Moore turns round and looks at the group.] 18 Moore —Then I’ll tell your mother you ain’t coinin’, Dude. \^Exennt Moore and Foster. The ManyoUa Club hoys and AVEE:a.\N remain silent as the curtain goes dotcn sloivly.] [Curtain.] Scene II. Time — Next evening. Scene — Cyninasiuni of Junior Holy Name. Boys tossing hashet-hall, exercising on parallel bars, horizontal bar, swinging Indian clubs, boxing, etc. Pierce —Wonder how Father Hyland found it out? Wise —How did he? How does he find out everything? Didn’t he find out when “Lemon” broke the sacristy window? Didn’t he find out when “Mope” hit “Toby” with an eraser on the back o’ the head? Shucks! You can’t do nothin’ he don’t find out. Donovan —I know who told him. Bet shu Dude did. Werner —Sure o’ that? Donovan —Null, ain’t sure; but I saw Dude goin’ in to se(; him this mornin’. Templeton —What’s goin’ to happen to you, Frank, old kid? Moore —Gosh, don’t ask me. Guess I’ll be thrown out o’ the society. Father Hjdand is pretty hard on fightin’. Foster —Well, ’twasn’t your fault. Moore —Huh, an’ supposin’ I tell him that, what’ll he say? Foster —He’ll say, “Glad to hear it, Frank, glad to hear it.” Moore —Yes, he Avill! Here’s what he’ll say: “Substanti¬ ate your statement, sir; substantiate your statement. In other words, sir, make it apjiear.” Foster —An’ then what’ll you say? «’ • Moore —Mliat’ll I say? Gosh, I’ll say nothin’—wont be able to say nothin’. Bayfield —Now, fellows, I tell you ’twill be all right. Every one knows Frank wasn’t lookin’ for a sera]). Father Hyland won’t think a thing about it. Moore — [Do}ibtfully.] Won’t he? Bayfield —Of course he won’t. He’ll just walk in, an’ say: [Imitating tnanner of Father Hyland.] “Well, ^fr. ^loore, what’s this I hear; yoii’ye been fightin’?” Eyre — [Disgusted.] NaAv, not “fightin,” but, “Mr. ^loore, you’ve had a ])u-j)u-gilistic encounter.” Johnson —Yeh, that’s it—“pugilistic encounter.” 19 Bayfield —An’ then Moore will say the conflteor down to mea maxima culpa. Then Father Hyland will say, ^‘Did you hurt him?” Eyre — \^Disglisted.'] Naw, no ‘‘hurt him”; “did you in¬ flict severe bodily ch-ch-astisement?” Johnson —Yeh, that’s it—“severe bodily chastisement.” Bayfield —Then Moore, kind o’ proud-like, will say, “I did.” Higgins —An’ Father Hyland will say: [Shaking hands with Moore and imitating manner of Father Hyland.] “Well done, thou good and faithful servant!” {Enter Father Hy¬ land.] Father Hyland —What? What? What? [Looking around over the lioys.] Higgins —Father, [scratching his head in a hesitating man¬ ner] another guy an’ I had an argument ’bout—’bout where children go who ain’t baptized. Lennihan —Yeh, an’ I thought different all de time. Father Hyland—[Turning toward Lennihan and Hig- GINS with mock solemnity.] Young men I don’t follow you, don’t get the sequence of your ideas. You had an argument— an altercation in other words—with a guy. Now tell me what’s a guy? Lennihati —Father, a guy’s a kid. Father Hyland —And a kid is a young goat? Lennihan —No, Father; a kid is what the Sisters call a boy. Father Hyland—[Pretending to he enlightened.] Indeed, indeed! So a kid is actually a boy! Regan — [Aside to Anderson.] Maybe he’ll forget about Moore’s fight. A^iderson—[Aside to Regan.] Hope so! Father Hyland —So you had an argument with a boy as to where unbaptized infants go. And how did you settle it? Johnson —We didn’t settle it. Father; we fought it out. Regan—[Aside to Anderson.] Gosh, fightin’ it out will make him think o’ Moore’s fight. Anderson — [Aside to Regan.] That boob Johnson! Father Hyland —Fought it out, eh? That’s what the theo¬ logians always do. Johnson —The question is pretty deej) for me. Father. Father Hyland —Quite so, quite so, indeed. [Turning to Johnson with mock solemnity.] “There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philoso¬ phy.” [Addressing all the hoys.] So our friend Weeman is going off to school Friday? 20 Regan — [Aside to Anderson.] Gosh! he’ll think of it now. Anderson — [Aside to Regan.] Yeh, he’s cornin’ to it. Tucker —Yes, Father; his mother wants him to go to a swell school in the East. Father Hyland — [Pretending not to understand.]^ A swell school? What’s that? Tucker —That’s what the catalogue calls an exclusive school. Father Hyland —And who else is going to this exclusive school? Tucker —No one else. Our dads ain’t got the dough. Father Hyland—[Pretending not to understand.] The dough ? Are they all bakers ? Tucker —I mean they ain’t got the money. Father Hyland —O! the money; the unum necessarium. Quite so, indeed. Now let me see? Who missed Communion last Sunday? You, Ralph? Regan —No; I was there. Father. Father Hyland —You, George? Eyre —Yes I was there. Father. Father Hyland —And Ray, how about you? Higgins —I went to the lake last Saturday to get some frog legs— Father Hyland —That’s a shame. Higgins —For you. Father. Father Hyland —Well, that is-er-a mitigating circum¬ stance. But don’t let it happen again. Higgins —No, Father; I won’t. Father Hyland—[Looking at the hoys for some moments.] It onlv remains for me to tell vou not to be too noisy. Boys should be seen and not heard. [P>oys shake their heads and shmv s-igns of disapproval.] And they should be seen but seldom—mostly in school and church. [Boys show signs of disagreement.] Above all, do not remain too late. Moore —Ten o’clock. Father? Father Hyland — [With assumed severity.] Ten o’clock! Wh}’, young man, do you think this is an all-night theatre? Ten o’clock, indeed! Why, my young men, the world is in its third sleep—or ought to be—^at ten o’clock. Let me see. [Looks at his icatch.] It’s now five minutes after eight. Let the last boy of you be out of here by nine o’clock. Several —O, Father! Father Hyland —No use. The die is cast! Donovan — [Coaxing.] I‘lease, Father! Father Hyland —No; home sweet home at 9 o’clock! Werner —We’ll be just as quiet as if we were in church. 21 Father Hyland — [With mock solemnity.] I am not in the giving mood today! Lennihan —Make it half-past nine, Father. You know we’re good. Father Hyland —Yes I do! Regan —Please, Father; just tonight! Father Hyland — [Reflecting.] No, not tonight. You’ve been fairly good this week, to be sure. [Boys shoiv signs of happiness.] Only fairly good, however. [Boys shake their heads gloomily.] Later on, possibly; not tonight. [Moves out of the gymnasium.] Johnson — [Shouting.] Here, Lennihan, put on the gloves with me. Father Hyland—[Turning round quickly.] That reminds me. Regan—[Aside to Anderson.] He’s thought of it now! Anderson—[Aside to Regan.] That fool Johnson! Spoils everything! Father Hyland —Yes, that reminds me. Frank, come here! [Moore approaches slowly a 7 id stands in front of Father Hy¬ land.] Frank, I hear you’ve been in a-a— Eyre —Pu-pu-gilistic encounter. Father Hyland — [Looking at Eyre.] Yes, pugilistic en¬ counter Avill do. [To Moore.] How about it, Frank? Moore — [Slowly.] Yes, Father, I had a little trouble over at the Mangolia Club last night. Regan — [Aside to Anderson.] Gosh, Moore had best be in the state o’ grace! Anderson — [Aside to Regan.] Yeh. He’ll be killed! Father Hyland — [To Moore.] Tell me about it. Moore — [Looking at Foster.] You tell it, Fos; you weren’t in it. Father Hyland — [With mock solemnity.] Yes, if you’re what we may call a disinterested spectator, go ahead. Foster —Well, me an’ Frank— Father Hyland —No, Frank and I, if 3^011 please. Foster —Well, then, Frank an’ me—no, Frank an’ I—went to the Mangolia Club to get Dude Weeman ’cause his mother wanted to see him an’ she asked us to please go an’ get him an’ we did. Well, one o’ them kids up there— Father Hyland —Kids? Those are the strange creatures the Sisters call boys? Foster —Huh, huh. Father Hyland — [With mock severity.] Well, go on. 22 Foster —Well, this guy he began to abuse Frank about his mother, his home, an’ such. Well, after a while they plagued Frank to put on the gloves with the guy an’ fight ’im. Well, Frank, he got mad after awhile, put on the gloves an’ cleaned up on the guy good an’ proper. Father Hi/lcvnd—[Pretending to he mystified.'] Cleaned up? Gave him a bath, do you mean? Foster —No; poked him a few good biffs an’ knocked him down. Father Hyland—[Loohing at Moore solemnly for some moments.] Did 3011 do that, Frank? ^foore—[Appearing to he very sorry.] Yeh, Father, but I’m verv sorrv. f t/ Father Hyland — [Slowly.] You are? [After a brief pause.] I doubt it, sir; I doubt it. Foster —Well, Father, ’twas they a’ started it. Said we were rough-necks, an’ such. Father Hyland — [Interested.] And .vou sa^^ he actually knocked him down? Was he a big boj"—as big as 3^ou? Foster —O, bigger! Father Hyland —Bigger, eh? An’ you say he hit him sev¬ eral times with the glove? Foster —Huh, huh. Biffed him one on the nose. Father Hylafid — [Pleased.] Well, well, well! And 3^011 tell me 3’ou bo3's didn’t start it? Foster —No, Father; honest we didn’t. Father Hyland —But 3mu tell me Frank finished it. Foster —Huh, huh. Father Hyland — [Seriously to all.] On general princi¬ ples, boys, we ought never go into a fight if we can sta3' out of it with honor. But if we can’t, let’s go in and fight to win. For ourselves, our homes, our countiw we must strive to have peace; but when we are unjusth" dealt by—then war till we are given our rights. Our countiw first, last and always. Frank, I like 3 our spirit—3011 are free of all blame. In fact, the fa¬ ther of the 3mung man whom you treated to such a beating called in to see me this morning and said it was just what the fellow needed. Don’t fight, bo3s, unless you have to; and then —do 3()u hear me? [Boys nod assent.] —and then when you have to, fight as though 3^11 mean evei\y lick 3^11 give. [Taking out watch and looking at it for some moments mith reflection.] Yes, you may stay till nine-thirty. [Boys cheer and handclap. They begin in groups to hox, to toss the hasket-hall, to swing on the bars.] [Curtain.] 23 ACT III. Scene I. Time — Evening. Six months later. Scene — Mangolia Club Room. Boys seated around or lollmg on rocking chairs as in Act II, Scene I. Some playing cards. Brown —That’ll make it kind o’ hard on Dude. Smithson —What’ll make it hard on Dude? Broum —Didn’t you hear? Smithson —Hear what? Broivn —Why, that Dude’s father failed; busted clean. Business gone under; lost everything. Dixon —When did you hear that. Brown ? Brown —Two days ago from the old man. Said he saw it coming six months ago. Chesterton —Yeh, and Dude’s back from school—couldn’t stand the expenses. Stanton —Well, Dude’s old man was a blamed fool for let¬ ting himself get broke. Dude will go around like a beggar from now on. I’ll bet! Well, he’d better not come to me. Hewitt —O, I’ll give him a dollar to help him along and let him go at that. Stanton —I’ll give him a quarter. Chesterton —I’ll give him the first jack-pot I win. Brown —Now, fellows, let’s quit kiddin’ an’ get down to straight goods. On the square, if Dude can’t keep up with his company he shouldn’t be in it. Dixon —That’s what I say. Stanton —Yesterday he was up here hanging on like a leech. Now if he can’t keep up with the bunch he should get out. Dixon —That’s what I say. Hewitt —That’s right. We didn’t bust his father’s busi¬ ness, and if Dude can’t go the pace he’d better get out. Smithson —And, anyhow, he doesn’t belong to our crowd— never did belong to it. He belongs with that crowd on the North Side. Hewitt —Yeh, with the crowd that has that fellow with the dandy wallop. [They all laugh and point to Smithson.] Smithson —That’s all right, fellows, I’ve no kick coming. That guy did clean me all right. But just the same Dude’s got to go. He can’t pay the dues, his old man has sold the Pierce- Arrow. Dude can’t stand the pace here, so he’s got to go. Dixon —Yes, that’s right. 24 Broicn —Well, lie’ll be up here in a little while and when he comes we’ll vote on it. Stanton —And let the vote be nix all round. Do you hear? —nix all round. Se vern I —Yeh. Smithson—^lixxhe he won’t want to stick around now, anvhow. Stanton —Won’t, eh? You don’t know leeches! [Enter EE MAN. Boys pay no attention to him.] Weeman —Hello, fellows! Broimi — [Coldly, not looking at him.] Hello! Weeman—[To those playing cards.] Having a little game, eh? Brown — [Coldly.] Y^es. What can we do for you? Weeman —O, I just thought I’d drop in. Brown—[After they have stopped play mg cards.] To be straight with 3 ou, Dude, we’ve ’bout conchidefi to, drop you from the club. You see j^our father’s failure has lorced you out of Waverl}' and naturalli^ ,vou can’t stand the expense here. We hate like ever^Tliing to do it, but there’s nothing else left. Weeman —Well, don’t 3’ou stand by a fellow when he’s down? Isn’t it one of 3'Our rules to stand by each other? ‘ Brown —You can’t meet the expenses here. Dude, and iiat- uralH we can’t keep 3’ou as a member of the club. Weeman —O, well, j^ou might keej) a fellow for a couple of months. Maj’be b}" that time dad’s business will be straight¬ ened out and I’ll be able to pay. Brown —What do 3'ou sa}", fellows? Will we hold him on? Stanton —Let’s put it to a vote. Dixon —Y"eh, fellows, let’s vote on it. Brown —All right. Get the slips o’ paper, Hewitt. Weeman —All I ask is two months, fellows. that time, I’m pretD’ sure my father will have things fixed up. Brown —Just vote as ,vou feel like, fellows, and never mind Dude. Those who want him to stav vote ‘Wes”; those who want him out vote “No.” Do you hear?—“No.” [The slips of paper are passed around. Brown counts the votes. All vote “Ao.”] Brown —Then that means you’ve got to go. Dude. Weeman —Got to go, eh? Got to go! So that’s all your talk of “stick together” amounts to! You hold on to a fellow while his father’s got the mone^’, and when he’s broke ,vou kick him out. That’s .vour stick together, eh? Stanton —Well, I guess we can keep the fellows we want, and the fellows who can’t stand the pace we kick out. 25 Weeman — [Looking around at the memhers.] And this is the bunch I’ve been going with! And these are the fellows I’ve been bowing to! Just when a guy’s down they let him stay down to get along the best he can. So that’s the friendship of the Mangolia Club! [Picking up his hat and starting for the door.] Well, fellows, I’m through. Of course you’ve voted me out, but I Avouldn’t stay now if you voted me in a thousand times. Several —Sour grapes! Weeman —No, ’tain’t sour grapes! It’s just that I’ve been a fool all along trying to make up with a bunch that doesn’t belong where I ought to belong. Good-bye, fellows, I’m through —through for good. I’m going back to the bunch I know. They may not want me, either, after the way I snubbed them every time I got a chance. I’ll try them anyhow. Majbe they’ll for¬ give and forget. Anyhow, I’m through here. Good-bye, and for always ! [EobU.] Brown—ijiodd riddance! Chestert 07 i —So long! Dixon —Skidoo! [They get around table and begin to play a game of poker.] [Curtain.] Scene II. Time — 7:30 next evening. Scene — Junior Holy Name meeting 7 'oom. The members of the society seated. Frank Moore presiding. Moore — [Rapping for order.] The Secretary will please read the minutes of the preceding meeting. Wise — [Rises and reads.] The last meeting of the Junior Holy Name Society was held Wednesday evening, November 9th, all the members being present except Tommie Donovan, who said he had to drive the cows to the pasture, and Toby Tucker, who reported that he had a stomach-ache. Tucker —That ain’t so! I didn’t say I had a stomach-ache. Wise —Did too! Tucker —Bet shu dime I didn’t. Moore — [Rapping.] Come to order, please! Come to order! Tucker —Well he had no business sayin’ I had a stomach¬ ache when I didn’t. Wise —You said you had; that’s all I’ve got to say. Tucker —No, I didn’t, either. Wise —Yes, you did. Moore — [Rapping.] Order! Order! [To Tucker.] Mr. Tucker, did you have a stomach-ache? 26 Tucker —No; ’course I didn’t. Moore —Mister Secretary, the gentleman should know if he had a stomach-ache. Correct that and say Mr. Tucker didn’t have a stomach-ache. Wise—[Writing and 7 'eading as he writes.] Mr.—Tucker— didn’t—have—a—stomach—ache. [Resmnes 7 'eading 7 m 7 iutes.] The minutes of the last meeting were read and highly approved. The President said that the Secretary wrote the best minutes [ 7 ne 7 nhers look at one another and show disagreement] he ever heard. He said that the society owed a vote of thanks to the Secretarv— Eyre —Oh, ho, swell why don’t shu! Regan —Say, but you’re the gu}^ that pats yourself on the back! Templeton —You’ll bust like a balloon from praisin’ your¬ self! Mooi'e — [Rapping.] Order! Come to order, please! ^yise — [Reading.] To the Secretary. He said that the Secretarv was the cleverest— tort-holes along her sides. Her decks were of rough, weather- l)eaten boards, her cabins dark and small, her dining-room low and uninviting, the fare of her passengers the simplest. On the flrst vessel gold-laced officers bowed to the rich passengers who crossed the plank for their glorious ocean voyage. On the other vessel rough seamen made ready for their journey and now and then nodded to the poor peasants who took passage with them. After a time came along a well-dressed young man with a servant carrying his baggage. He stopped for a moment 29 I and looked at the hut-steamer on his way to the palace of the ocean. ‘‘Won’t you come with us?” asked the old captain, smiling as he stood at the gangway. “With you? and in that crazy old ship? Not in a thou¬ sand years I” The young man flung his head high in disdain as he followed his servant to the palace of the sea. That same day both ships sailed toward the open ocean. The large ship moved along with the majesty of a lion; the lit¬ tle vessel stole behind like a mongrel dog unheard of and un¬ heeded. There were bright hours of pleasure in the palace of the ocean; there was quiet living in the hut of the sea that trailed in its shadow. One day, midway the voyage, a wind’s breath freshened the sea and later flung her into lashing bellows. Clouds glided across the heavens as the great wind rose and swelled. The young man, who had watched disdainfully the beggar ship be¬ fore he left on his voyage, watched her with disdain now, too, as she rose and fell on the tossing sea. Suddenly a wave, flung over-decks by a wind gust, caught him in its embrace and pres¬ ently he was cast on the sea. “Man overboard!” was shouted from tongue to tongue. Liveried officers looked over the rail¬ ing and saw the form flung on the waves. “It’s his loss! We can’t endanger ourselves to save every fool who falls over¬ board!” cried the captain as the great ship steamed on. The tramp ship followed and as she passed, the young man was still afloat. “Man a life-boat!” cried the captain. Three hardy sailors went down the ship’s side and in a moment were rising and falling with the swell and pitch of the sea. They saved the proud young man who scorned their tramp ship when safe on land. [Silence for some moments.'] Anderson —He was one good captain, wasn’t he. Father? Father Hyland —He was. McCabe —An’ those sailors, thev were brave. Father Hyland —Yes, very brave. Lennihan —An’ that joung man, I bet he was thankful. Father Hyland —You may be sure. Bayfield —An’ sorry for the way he acted. Father Hyland —No doubt he was. [Pause.] Noav 1 sup¬ pose you’d all like to be those three sailors. Several —You bet. Father Hyland —Would you really? Several —Sure, Father. Father Hyland —And you’d like to be the captain, Frank? Moore —Gee! but I would, Father. 30 Father Hyland —And all you others—you would like to be those three sailors? All —Sure! Father Hyland —^Well, now, here you have it. Your society, not very large, not very powerful, is the humble, little ship on the world sea to help save all it can. Frank, stand up. [Moore stands up.] Boys, attention. [Boys sit up straight.] Frank, you’re the captain; boys, you’re the sailors. Moore —But there’s no man overboard. Father? Father Hyland —Yes, we can find him, too. [Leaves the room and in a few moments returns with Weeman. Silence.] Here’s your man overboard; your brother Weeman—because he is your brother, although he has not known—is fallen over¬ board. The ship Mangolia has sped on without picking him up. * Your small ship is passing him now. Man your life-boats and save him ! Moore —I don’t understand. Father, just what you mean about Weeman. Father Hyland —Well, my young man, you had best ex¬ plain as you explained to me this morning. W eeman —Well, boys, you know my father has had lots of trouble, and lost everything we had. I had to leave school three days ago because I couldn’t pay the tuition. Last night I went into the Mangolia Club and the fellows expelled me be¬ cause of the disgrace that came on my father. They took a vote and voted me out. And now, having learned my lesson, that money doesn’t make any real friends, and that I’ve been a fool all along in trying to get away from my own crowd, I come to ask you to admit me into the Junior Holy Name Society. Moore —Very good, but you must have the approval of our spiritual director. Father Hyland —He has. Moore —And you’ll come to Communion every month? Weeman —I’ll try never to miss. Moore —The Chair will—will— [Aside to Foster.] What is that, Foster? Foster — [Aside to Moore.] Entertain a motion. Moore —The Chair will entertain a motion for Mr. Wee¬ man to be admitted into the Junior Holy Name Society. Pierce —Mr. President, I make a motion that Mr. Weeman be admitted as a member of the Junior Holy Name Society. Werner —Mr. President, I second the motion. Moore —All in favor of the motion will signify the same by saying ‘C 4 ye.” All—[Very strongly.] Aye. [Applause and members shake hand^ with Weeman as curtain goes down.] [The End.] Due s. . ^ -