Part 1
PLAYS FOR SMALL STAGES
_UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME_
=MERINGTON, Marguerite=
=FESTIVAL PLAYS.= One-act pieces for New Year’s, St. Valentines Day, Labor Day, All Hallowe’en, Christmas and a Child’s Birthday. Cover inlay and illustrations net $1.25
=PICTURE PLAYS.= With cover inlay and illustrations net $1.25
=HOLIDAY PLAYS.= Cover inlay and frontispiece in color by John Rae net $1.25
=CRANFORD: A PLAY.= A comedy in three acts from Mrs. Gaskell’s novel. Cover design and frontispiece by Edwin Wallick 12mo, net $1.25
=THE VICAR OF WAKEFIELD: A PLAY.= Cover inlay and frontispiece in colors by John Rae net $1.25
=MacKAYE, Mrs. Steele=
=PRIDE AND PREJUDICE: A PLAY.= A comedy in four acts, founded on Jane Austen’s novel. With frontispiece in color by Edwin Wallack 12mo, net $1.25
[Illustration: HUGH: MY BELOVED!
GLADYS: DO YOU CALL THAT MUSIC?]
PLAYS FOR SMALL STAGES
BY MARY ALDIS
_Mrs. Pat and the Law_—_The Drama Class_ _Extreme Unction_—_The Letter_ _Temperament_
[Illustration]
NEW YORK DUFFIELD & COMPANY 1915
Copyright, 1915, by MARY ALDIS
_All Rights Reserved_
TO MY BOYS
NOTE
The author desires to express gratitude for assistance in the preparation and presentation of these plays to Mr. and Mrs. Charles Atkinson, Mr. Benjamin Carpenter, Mr. Arthur Davison Ficke, Mr. Hobart Chatneld-Taylor, and many others of that sympathetic group of players, authors, and audiences who have together made The Playhouse possible.
[Illustration: THE PLAY-HOUSE
LAKE FOREST, ILLINOIS]
CONTENTS
PAGE
PREFACE xiii
MRS. PAT AND THE LAW 1
THE DRAMA CLASS OF TANKAHA, NEVADA 29
EXTREME UNCTION 47
THE LETTER 67
TEMPERAMENT 85
ILLUSTRATIONS
HUGH: MY BELOVED! } _Frontispiece_ GLADYS: DO YOU CALL THAT MUSIC? }
PAT: WHAT DID THEY DO THEN? WELL, THEY LOOKED AND LOOKED FER A YEAR AN’ A DAY, IVERY MAN O’ THIM IN A DIFFERENT COUNTHREE _Facing p._ 14
MRS. STEDMAN: THERE IS A FAR MORE IMPORTANT REASON FOR BREVITY THAN CONSTRUCTION. EVEN A ONE-ACT PLAY MAY BE ONE ACT TOO LONG ” 32
THE GIRL: I’M SO TIRED! I’D LIKE SOMETHING NICER ” 52
TANNER: YOU FORGET THAT I AM A NOVELIST ” 80
PREFACE
No one can deny the present Dramatic Renaissance. Plays profitable and unprofitable, popular and unpopular, proper and improper, plays priggish and plays profane, are being presented, read, discussed, revised, written about and quarrelled over. The Drama is furiously to the fore and, in spite of the “Movies,” continues to hold the absorbed interest of an increasing number of people.
In the midst of all this dramatic stir, this unrest of expression, certain ones, weary of being onlookers, arise and announce, “We too will act,” and others cry out, “We too will write.” So the Amateur providing his own cue, makes his entrance, and after being regarded a bit askance by “The Profession” is allowed to play his part.
In the Spring of 1911 I cast an affectionate and calculating eye upon a small frame house next door. It was shortly acquired; partitions and ceilings were pulled out, the lean-to kitchen became the stage; dressing-rooms were added and a miniature theatre which we called The Playhouse was ready.
In the five Summers since, a group of amateur players have presented some fifty one-act plays to the great pleasure and interest of themselves and the alternate, sometimes mingled, amusement, surprise, disapproval and horror of their neighbors.
Many of the plays given were written by the players themselves or adapted from short stories. Others were translated from the French, German or Italian. All were experimental, undertaken in a spirit of adventure with the simple motive of amusing the players and their friends. The five plays in this book were written for production at “The Playhouse.” They have all gained in rehearsal by suggestions from the actors. In the comedies much is left to the interpretation of the players. Often amusing lines or “business” comes to a player from the response of the audience, but he and his fellows must be quick of wit that such improvisation may seem entirely natural.
Amateurs have one great advantage, they give a play only once or twice and so attain a freshness and spontaneity that it would take years of technical training to enable them to keep up through a long run. H. T. Parker, commenting in _The Boston Transcript_ upon a performance of the “Lake Forest Players” on a dramatic visit to the Toy Theatre in Boston says:
“Time and again amateurs attain simplicity because they do not suspect intricacy, and truth because they see it and embody it in their acting with no veils of habit, method or precedent. Given histrionic instinct, aptitude and observation, they act with ease, freedom and variety, and with full self-surrender to their parts. If the means are not the professional means they do their office which is to bring the personages to life in the terms of the play. Acting for themselves and in their own way, they are not weighted with self-consciousness, tradition or imitative effort.”
The word self-consciousness is the key-note. “Drop self-consciousness and get under the skin of the character you portray” might be considered the theory of amateur acting.
Occasionally efforts have been made at The Playhouse to select a stage director, but as each participant takes advice and direction in inverse ratio to the firmness with which he is able to maintain his own views the plan has not proved effective. Our composite results are obtained by a process of mutual suggestion and recrimination, and if these simple means fail it is never from any shyness on the part of a fellow-actor in expressing an honest opinion.
There are two rules posted in the Green Room:
KEEP YOUR TEMPER AND RETURN YOUR MANUSCRIPTS.
The second is imperative, the first variable in application.
In selecting plays we have departed radically from the amateur tradition of resuscitating “plays with a punch,” which have fared well in the hands of professionals. In the established “tricks of the trade” of course the amateur cannot compete with the professional. This is the true significance of the well-known Green Room hoot that “The worst professional is better than the best amateur.”
We generally try to give our audiences something they have not heard before, and seek plays in which the expressed word, the mental attitude and the interplay of character are of more importance than the physical action. Here, if anywhere, although such plays may seem difficult, lies the amateur’s opportunity. So we are not afraid of plays with little action and much talk, for is not the most intense drama of all, the drama of the soul, the struggle between mind and mind, heart and heart? There lies all the pain, the joy, the perplexity of life. It is in talk, low and intense, gay and railing, bitter and despairing, as the case may be, that we moderns carry on our drama of life, the foundation for the drama of the stage.
MARY ALDIS.
_Lake Forest, Illinois. July, 1915._
MRS. PAT AND THE LAW
_Played for the first time on September 14, 1913, by Mr. BENJAMIN CARPENTER, Mrs. ARTHUR ALDIS, Miss POLLY CHASE, Miss ISABEL MCBIRNEY, and Mr. CHAS. ATKINSON._
MRS. PAT AND THE LAW.
CHARACTERS:
PATRICK O’FLAHERTY. NORA O’FLAHERTY, _his wife_. JIMMIE, _his crippled son, aged about eight or ten years_. MISS CARROLL, _the Visiting Nurse_. JOHN BING, _a Policeman_.
SCENE: _A small, poor room in a tenement flat. Cook-stove, back; shabby lounge, front; at left, kitchen table with a faded flower in a bottle; a wash-tub on bench, centre left, back near door. At left, door to bedroom. At right, door to hallway._
_When the curtain rises NORA O’FLAHERTY is discovered at the wash-tub. She is a large woman, with a worn, sweet face, across her forehead an ugly red cut. The room is untidy, and so is NORA. The stove is blazing hot. After stirring the clothes in the boiler NORA wipes her face with the back of her hand and sighs wearily as she puts a fresh lot into the tub of suds._
JIMMIE.
[_Speaking from bedroom._]
Maw, what time is it?
NORA.
Most tin, Jimmie-boy.
JIMMIE.
Whin’ll Miss Carroll come?
NORA.
Well, now, I shouldn’t wonder if she’d be comin’ along the shtreet and oup the shtairs and right in at that door about the time the clock gits ’round to half past tin, or maybe it’s sooner she’ll be. Do you think it’s a flower she’ll be bringin’ today, Jimmie-boy?
JIMMIE.
To-day’s Tuesday, ain’t it?
NORA.
Shure!
JIMMIE.
There’s no tellin’. Sometimes she says there ain’t enough to go ’round.
[_A pause._]
NORA.
[_Sorting out clothes._]
Sakes alive—the wash that’s on me! I’ll niver git through.
[_A short silence._]
JIMMIE.
Maw, what time is it now?
NORA.
Well, I couldn’t rightly say, the steam bein’ in me eyes like. Faith, ye must bear in mind there’s many that’s needin’ her. Maybe at this very minute it’s a new-born baby just come into the world she’s tendin’, or an ould man just goin’ out of it! She’ll be comin’ soon now, I’ll warrant ye.
JIMMIE.
But, Maw, me leg hurts, and Paw takes all the room in the bed, he’s sleepin’ so noisy!
NORA.
Och, Jimmie darlin’, have a little patience! Me name’s not Nora O’Flaherty if Miss Carroll don’t bring us a flower this day, or if there ain’t enough to go ’round, shure it’s the bright happy worrd or the little joke or plan she’ll have in her mind for ye ’ull hearten the day as well as a flower.
[_Another pause._]
JIMMIE.
Maw! Ain’t it half past tin yit?
NORA.
Oh, laddie, an’ I hadn’t the great wash on me hands I’d dance a jig t’ amuse ye! Shure many’s the song I’ve sung an’ the jig I’ve danced whin I was a slip o’ a gurrl back in the ould counthree, afore I had the four of yiz and yer Paw to look afther! Now it’s me arrms have need to move livelier than me legs, I’m thinkin’. Listen, now, an’ I’ll see if I can call to mind a little song for ye. [_Sings, keeping time with the wash-board._]
There was a lady lived at Rhin, A lady very stylish, man—But she snapped her fingers at all her kin And—she fell in love wid an Irishman. A wild tremenjous Irishman, A rampin’, stampin’ Irishman, A devil-may-take-’em—Bad as you make ’em— Fascinatin’ Irishman!
Oh, wan o’ his een was bottle green And the tother wan was out, me dear, An’ the calves o’ his wicked twinklin’ legs Were two feet ’round about, me dear. Oh—the slashin’, dashin’ Irishman— The blatherin’, scatherin’ Irishman, A whiskey, frisky, rummy, gummy, Brandy, dandy Irishman!
An’ that was the lad the lady loved Like all the gurrls o’ quality. He’d smash all the skulls o’ the men o’ Rhin Just by the way o’ jollity. Oh, the ratlin’, battlin’ Irishman! The thumpin’, bumpin’ Irishman, The great he-rogue, wid his roarin’ brogue! The laughin’, quaffin’ Irishman![1]
There’s a song fer ye now! Ha, Jimmie-boy, I’m thinkin’ that song ’u’d had more sense an’ it told what she did wid her rampin’, roarin’ Irishman wanst she got married to him.
[_Knock on the hall door._]
JIMMIE.
Ah, that’s her!
NORA.
There! Didn’t I tell ye? [_NORA wipes her hands and hurries to open the door, admitting MISS CARROLL._] Ah! Miss Carroll dear, it’s welcome ye are this day. Jimmie’s been watchin’ and wearyin’ for ye since the daylight dawned. How are ye?
[_She has turned away as MISS CARROLL enters so as to conceal her head, but MISS CARROLL catches sight of it and, taking hold of her arm, turns her around._]
MISS CARROLL.
Why, Mrs. O’Flaherty, what an awful cut! You look as if you had been hit with an axe!
NORA.
Oh, git along with ye!
MISS CARROLL.
How did it happen?
NORA.
Shure, ’twas nothin’ at all but his boot, and he that unstiddy he couldn’t aim shtraight! It’s ’most well now. [_She turns to tub._]
MISS CARROLL.
[_Taking off her coat and opening her satchel._]
It isn’t “’most well.” It’s a fresh wound and a bad, deep cut. As I’ve told you before, I’ve no patience with you for putting up with such treatment. Don’t you know the law would protect you? You ought to swear out a warrant for your husband’s arrest on the grounds of personal violence. That might teach him a lesson. This is the third time now in a month he’s struck you. It’s outrageous! Has he got a job yet?
JIMMIE.
Ain’t you comin’, Miss Carroll? Me leg hurts awful.
MISS CARROLL.
Yes, Jimmie-boy, in a minute. [_She has been getting hot water from the stove, preparing cotton gauze, etc., for dressing. She stops a moment in her work and regards MRS. O’FLAHERTY._] Has he got a job yet?
NORA.
He had work last week.
MISS CARROLL.
For how long?
NORA.
For three days—an’ a part o’ four.
MISS CARROLL.
And then he got drunk and got turned off, eh? And you gave him your wash money, too, I suppose, as usual.
NORA.
No, no, Miss Carroll dear, I didn’t do that at all. I only give him the half of it, and niver any of it would he have had but—well—knowin’ it was in the house, it was coaxin’ me mornin’ and night he was with that wheedlin’, soft way o’ him, and the silly loverin’ talk till the heart just ran melty within me. [_MISS CARROLL regards her with her lips pursed._] I know it’s an ould fool you’re thinkin’ me, but jest let you be listenin’ to his talk wanst and see what you’d do, and him tellin’ stories to Jimmie the while so kind and lovely.
MISS CARROLL.
[_Stopping at entrance to bedroom, basin in hand._]
“Kind and lovely” indeed! When he takes your wages and hurts and abuses you, and Jimmie hasn’t a decent place to live in because his father’s a lazy—[_She stops in amazement on the threshold as she sees PAT asleep in the room within._] Well, I never! [_Comes back into the room._] Mrs. O’Flaherty, you must make Pat get up and get out of there while I take care of Jimmie.
[_MRS. O’FLAHERTY looks injured, but wipes her hands and does as she is bid. MISS CARROLL stands watching at the door._]
NORA.
[_Within bedroom._]
Pat! Pat! Wake up, will ye! [_PAT groans._] My, but you’re sleepin’ hard! Pat! Miss Carroll says ye’re to git oup and git out o’ here while she takes care o’ Jimmie. Come along, now! That’s right, Jimmie-boy, give him a good thump! Are ye oup on yer legs now? Mind what yer doin’. There ye are!
PAT.
[_Entering, yawning._]
Wha’ for Miss Carroll says git oup and git out?
[_MISS CARROLL glares at PAT. PAT, turning, catches her eye and smiles sweetly ere she vanishes into the bedroom._]
NORA.
Well, Pat O’Flaherty, I’m thinkin’ Miss Carroll ain’t so awful admirin’ o’ your ways! Sometimes I’m thinkin’ she sees ’em clearer nor your lovin’ wife does!
[_PAT picks up one of his shoes, sits down on the sofa and looks around for the other; pays no heed to NORA’S talk._]
PAT.
Where’s me other shoe? [_Gets down on hands and knees and looks under the sofa._] Shure I had the two of ’em on me feet yesterday. [_Laughs gaily._] Maybe I wore wan on ’em out lookin’ for that job that I didn’t git!
[_NORA watches him a moment, then hands him the shoe she has picked up near the stove._]
NORA.
Here’s your shoe.
PAT.
Ah! That’s the darlin’; thank ye kindly. I’d be losin’ me head some day if ’twern’t for you, Nora gurrl.
NORA.
[_At tub while PAT slowly puts on shoes._]
Oh, Pat, ye will thry and git some worrk today, won’t ye, man? Thry harrd. If they don’t take ye on at the first place, go on an’ don’t git discouraged. Ye know ye’re the grand workman whin ye thry, and ye must git a stiddy job soon. Ye really must, Pat. I’m shtrong; I don’t mind the washin’ fer me own sake. I’d do anythin’ fer you and the childer, but whin Jimmie frets at me to play with him, an’ the others come rushin’ in from school a-wantin’ thur maw to do this and that fer ’em, shure it comes harrd an’ I dassn’t take me arrms from the suds to ’tend on ’em and comfort ’em and cook ’em thur meals nice like that visitin’ housekeepin’ lady told me to.
[_PAT has not been listening very attentively, but has taken in the drift of NORA’S plea._]
PAT.
[_Pulling himself together and putting on hat and coat._]
Ah, Nora gurrl, I’ll be gettin’ a good job today shure. [_Suddenly catches sight of her forehead._] Wha’s that on your head?
NORA.
[_Startled._]
Me head, is it? Miss Carroll was sayin’ just now it was “personal violence and breakin’ the law.” I was thinkin’ afore that ’twas only the heel o’ an ould boot walked around daytimes on Pat O’Flaherty, lookin’ for a job.
[_PAT regards her uneasily, meditating speech, but appreciates he is too befuddled for argument, so begins to whistle as he gets himself out and down-stairs, leaving the door open. NORA goes to shut it, and stands a moment reflecting, looking after PAT, then returns to the tub near the bedroom door, evidently thinking. Short pause._]
JIMMIE.
[_Within bedroom._]
Say, Miss Carroll, d’ye think I’ll ever git it?
MISS CARROLL.
Christmas is coming, Jimmie-boy.
JIMMIE.
Huh! So’s Fourth o’ July.
MISS CARROLL.
We’ll see what we can do.
JIMMIE.
The other lady you told about me brung me a suit, but some cove lots bigger ’n me wore it all out first. I don’ like it. Gee! but I wisht I had a bran’-new suit just wanst.
[_NORA makes a little yearning gesture towards the room._]
MISS CARROLL.
Now, Jimmie-boy, come along. It won’t hurt much. When you’re all fixed up on the lounge in there I’ve got something pretty for you.
JIMMIE.
Another flower? What kind is it?
MISS CARROLL.
We’ll see. Now lean on me.
[_They enter._]
NORA.
That’s the lad. Are ye all fixed up now? He’s gettin’ lots better, ain’t he, Miss Carroll?
[_JIMMIE is a pale, emaciated child with a wan little face of great sweetness of expression. His clothes are much too large for him. He holds up one bandaged leg and hobbles on crutches. MISS CARROLL helps him onto the lounge, produces from a paper by her satchel two pink roses, holding them up._]
JIMMIE.
Gee! ain’t they pretty! Can I keep ’em both?
MISS CARROLL.
Both for you, Jimmie-boy, and we’ll see what can be done about the suit. Perhaps we can find one somewhere that’s bran’ new. [_She gets a book from the shelf._] See if you can learn all the new words on this page before I come tomorrow, will you? That’s a dear old boy! Now, Mrs. O’Flaherty, let’s see about that forehead. Sit down here. [_MISS CARROLL places a chair, front stage._]
NORA.
[_Washing._]
Oh, what’s the use botherin’ about me head? It’ll git well of itself. It always does. Don’t be mindin’ me.
MISS CARROLL.
But, Mrs. O’Flaherty, you really must let me see to it. It’s a bad cut.
NORA.
[_Wiping her hands._]
Oh well, you’re so good to Jimmie I’ll have to oblige you. I suppose you haven’t had many persons with holes in their heads made by boots to tind to? But you’re young, Miss Carroll dear, you’re young yit. [_She seats herself with a sigh._] I’m talkin’ silly, Miss Carroll, but there’s no room for a joke in me heart this day. I’ve been thinkin’—about what you said afore you wint in to Jimmie.
MISS CARROLL.
[_Binding up the injured head._]
Yes?
NORA.
You were tellin’ me to git out a warrant ’gainst Pat. Do you think it would keep him from drinkin’ just for a bit till we git caught up on the rint and the furniture? Do you think it would?
MISS CARROLL.
Mrs. O’Flaherty, you know it’s a shame and an outrage the way Pat’s behaving. He’s wearing you out. He’ll do you harm some day and then what will become of Jimmie? He ought to be taught a good lesson.
NORA.
Would they do any hurt to him, do you think, an’ they locked him up? Would they care for him kindly, and he maybe helpless like?
MISS CARROLL.
They certainly would care for him. Now, Mrs. O’Flaherty, you go over to the Maxwell Street Station and show them your forehead, and say you want Pat “took up” for a day or so just for a lesson, do you understand?
[Illustration: PAT: WHAT DID THEY DO THEN? WELL, THEY LOOKED AND LOOKED FER A YEAR AN’ A DAY, IVERY MAN O’ THIM IN A DIFFERENT COUNTHREE]
NORA.
Yes, I understand. Oh, it seems an awful thing to be doin’ to your own man, don’t it? After all them things I said when we got married? No, no, I niver could do it, niver! [_Goes back to tub._]
MISS CARROLL.
Well, then, tell Pat you may do it, anyway. It will make him respect you. But you’re such a softy, of course you’ll do nothing. I must go now. Mrs. Flaherty, you must not let Pat sleep with Jimmie. It is not good for him.
NORA.
[_While MISS CARROLL is packing satchel and getting on bonnet and coat._]
Shure now, Miss Carroll, you’re down on Pat for everythin’. He’s a good, lovin’ paw to Jimmie-boy he is—makin’ him happy and pleasin’ him like nobody else can. Everybody’s kind to Jimmie and nobody’s kind to Pat—and they’re just alike—two childer they are—both on ’em foolish and lovin’ and helpless like, and I love ’em both. Oh, I love ’em! If you’d hear ’em together an’ you wid your eyes shut, it’s hard set you’d be to say which was the man and which was the child. Sometimes I can’t ’tind to me washin’ fer listenin’ to the funny talk o’ the two o’ them. Wan time they’ll be settin’ on the high moon for a throne, with the little shtars to wait on ’em and shootin’-shtars to run errands; another, they’ll be swimmin’ along through the deep green sea, a-passin’ the time o’ day an’ makin’ little jokes to the fishes. Ah, ye ought to hear ’em go on!
MISS CARROLL.
Well, I’m glad he amuses Jimmie when he’s at home, but he ought to be at work, a great strong man like him! He needs a good lesson, Pat does. Good-bye, Jimmie-boy. Be sure and have the new words learned. [_She gives him a little pat, and with a wave of the hand goes out. NORA is unheeding JIMMIE’S call of “Maw.” JIMMIE has not listened to the conversation between NORA and MISS CARROLL._]
JIMMIE.
[_Raising himself and looking around._]
Maw! She said she’d try and git me a bran’-new suit. Say, Maw, d’ye think she’ll pay out her money fer it? I don’t want her to do that. She just gets wages same as Paw. She told me how it was. Say, Maw, why don’t Paw bring home no more wages?
NORA.
[_Coming to him, then taking sudden decision._]
Jimmie-boy, Maw’s goin’ out. [_Hastily gets out a very queer bonnet and mantle while she speaks and arrays herself, putting bonnet on crooked to partially conceal bandage._] You just lie quiet there like a good boy, an’ a lamb’s tail couldn’t whisk itself three times till I’ll be back again. I’m not goin’ to be a fool softy no longer, and Paw’ll bring home some more wages afther that lesson he’s needin’. Are ye all right now? Ye won’t be needin’ anything? [_Pats him on the head, then leans over and kisses him fiercely, protectingly._]
JIMMIE.
Where you goin’?
NORA.