Writing for Vaudeville Part 59

MOE REISS: Yes, I saw it, I seen it.

BIRDIE: I can swear to it, if necessary.

PHONSIE: I can swear too, popper, want to hear me?

MOE REISS: No, I have heard enough. Now I intend to act. (Throws off coat, L.)

ALGERNON: What do you mean?

MOE REISS: I mean that either you or I will never leave this place alive. For I tell you plainly, as sure as there is a poker game above us, I mean to kill you!

ALGERNON: (Throws off coat and hat.) Well, if it's a roughhouse you're looking for, I'm right there with the goods. (Struggle.)

PHONSIE: Give him an upper cut, popper, soak him!!!

BIRDIE: Knife him, Algernon, knife him! (Has out her hat pin.) (During struggle, PHONSIE shoots three times.) (As they struggle to window, ALGERNON turns back, and PHONSIE sees [after third shot]

his vest is a target and fires three times. Bell on each shot.) Curse you, you've got me. Here are your three cigars. (Falls dead, C.)

MOE REISS: (Kneels and feels heart.) Dead!!! Who could have done this?

PHONSIE: Father, I cannot tell a lie, I done it with my little hatchet. (Shows big gun and a picture of George Washington. All the others lift American flags and wave them.) (PHONSIE L. waving flag, MOE and GLADYS C. BIRDIE dead in chair R.)

STAR SPANGLED BANNER, FF, AS CURTAIN FALLS

THE LOLLARD A SATIRICAL COMEDY

BY EDGAR ALLAN WOOLF Author of "Youth," "Little Mother," "Mon Desir," "The Locks at Panama,"

"Lady Gossip," Etc., Etc.

THE LOLLARD

CHARACTERS

ANGELA MAXWELL HARRY MAXWELL FRED SALTUS MISS CAREY

SCENE: The apartment of Miss Carey, a hardworking modiste about 45 years of age, rather sharp in manner, very prudish and a hater of men.

TIME: About 2 A.M.

When the curtain rises, the stage is dark. First, "feminine snores"

are heard, then a sharp ringing of bell. Then MISS CAREY from her bed in next room (curtained off, but partly visible) calls out:

MISS CAREY: Who is it?

VOICE: (Off stage.) It's me. Open!

MISS CAREY: (Poking her night-capped head out of curtains.) Well, who are you?

VOICE: (Off stage.) You don't know me. But that's all right.

Please let me in--hurry! Hurry!

MISS CAREY: (Rising and getting into a kimono.) Well--whoever you are--what do you mean by waking me at two in the morning? I'll report this to the janitor. (She turns up light and opens door.

ANGELA MAXWELL rushes in--in fluffy peignoir--her hair in pretty disorder--her hands full of wearing apparel, etc., as if she just s.n.a.t.c.hed same up in haste. An opera coat, a pair of slippers, etc.)

ANGELA: (Rushing in--closing door after her and silencing MISS CAREY by the mysterious way she seizes her by the wrist.) Listen, you don't know me, but I've just left my husband.

MISS CAREY: (Sharply.) Well, that's no reason why I should leave my bed.

ANGELA: (Rea.s.suringly.) You can go right back again, dear--in fact, I'll go with you and we'll talk it over there.

MISS CAREY: I don't wish to talk it over anywhere, and--

ANGELA: Well, surely, you don't think it was wrong of me to leave Harry--now do you?

MISS CAREY: I never blame any woman for leaving any man.

ANGELA: See, I knew it. After I fired the Wedgewood vase at him--and just for doing it he was brute enough to call me "Vixen,"-- I s.n.a.t.c.hed up as much as I could that was worth taking, and left him _forever_. (Suddenly, as she sees dress on model.) Oh, what a lovely little frock. (Back to other tone.) Yes, forever; and it was only when I stood out in the cold hall that I realized it would have been better to have left him forever when I was all dressed in the morning. (Beginning to shiver and weep.) Take my advice, dear, if you ever leave your husband, never do it on a _cold night_.

MISS CAREY: (Sharply.) I'm not married.

ANGELA: (Weeping copiously and shivering.) Well, then, you needn't bother, dear, about the weather, 'cause you never will be married.

MISS CAREY: No, I never will--catch me selling my freedom to any selfish brute of a man.

ANGELA: (As before.) See, I knew it. I said to myself, that little lady on the second floor who makes dresses with a long, thin nose--

MISS CAREY: (Outraged.) Makes dresses with a long, thin nose?

ANGELA: Yes--she's the only one in the whole apartment house I can go to--she's the only one won't give Harry right.

MISS CAREY: No man is ever right.

ANGELA: I'm commencing to believe all men are brutes.

MISS CAREY: Of course they are. (Commencing to thaw.) Have a cup of tea. (She goes to table to prepare tea things.)

ANGELA: Thanks--I brought my own tea with me. (Takes a little paper bag of tea out of one of the slippers and crosses to MISS CAREY.) If I had struck him with the vase, I could understand his calling me "Vixen" (Beginning to weep again.)--but I only flung it at him, 'cause I cracked it by accident in the morning, and I didn't want him to find it out. He was always calling me "b.u.t.ter-fingers."

(Sits at opposite side of table.)

MISS CAREY: Oh, he was always calling you names.

ANGELA: No, that's all he ever called me--"b.u.t.ter-fingers." (Cries again.)

MISS CAREY: (Pouring tea.) Oh, he's the kind that just loves to stay home and nag.