SCENE II

[Poor ManfollowsImp,who conducts him to the heavily curtained door. ThePoor Manthrows out his chest and swaggers a bit, as a man might who had suddenly come into a fortune.Impswaggers along with him.

IMP. Won't you have a grand time, though. I'll get you a menu card, so that you can be picking out your dinner.

POORMAN. [Joyfully slappingImpon the back.] Good idea, and I'll pick out a regular banquet.

[Pausing a moment before he passes through the curtains, he smiles and smacks his lips in anticipation. Exit.

JUDGE. [Speaks disgustedly toImp.] There you are! He's perfectly satisfied with his morals. Has no defects in his character. Just wants to have a good time.

[Sighs heavily and turns back to his writing.Impnods his head in agreement and chuckles slyly.[The street door opens slowly and theVain Womanstands upon the threshold. She does not enter at once, but stands posing—presumably she desires to attract attention, and she is worthy of it. She has a superb figure, and her rich gowning enhances it. Her fair face reveals a shallow prettiness, but the wrinkles of age are beginning to leave telltale lines upon its smoothness. AsImphurries forward to usher her in, she sweeps grandly past him to the centre of the stage.Impstops near the door, with his hands on his hips, staring after her, then takes a few steps in imitation of her. She turns around slowly and, sauntering over to the railing, coughs affectedly, and as theJudgerises and bows curtly, she speaks in a coaxing manner.

[Sighs heavily and turns back to his writing.Impnods his head in agreement and chuckles slyly.

[The street door opens slowly and theVain Womanstands upon the threshold. She does not enter at once, but stands posing—presumably she desires to attract attention, and she is worthy of it. She has a superb figure, and her rich gowning enhances it. Her fair face reveals a shallow prettiness, but the wrinkles of age are beginning to leave telltale lines upon its smoothness. AsImphurries forward to usher her in, she sweeps grandly past him to the centre of the stage.Impstops near the door, with his hands on his hips, staring after her, then takes a few steps in imitation of her. She turns around slowly and, sauntering over to the railing, coughs affectedly, and as theJudgerises and bows curtly, she speaks in a coaxing manner.

VAINWOMAN. Judge, I have heard that you are very kind, and I have been told that you help people out of their troubles, so I have a little favor to ask of you.

JUDGE. [Coldly.] Yes, I supposed so; go on.

VAINWOMAN. [Archly.] Well, you know that I am a famousbeauty; in fact, both my face and my form are considered very lovely. [She turns around slowly that he may see for himself.] Great and celebrated men have worshipped at my feet. I simply cannot live without admiration. It is my very life. But, Judge [plaintively], horrid wrinkles are beginning to show in my face. [Intensely.] Oh, I would give anything, do anything, to have a smooth, youthful face once more. Please, oh, please, won't you take away these wrinkles [touching her face with her fingers] and give me something in their stead.

JUDGE. [Looking directly at her and speaking coldly.] Are you satisfied with yourself in other ways? Is your character as beautiful as your face? Have you no faults or weaknesses that you want exchanged?

VAINWOMAN. [Uncertainly.] Why, I—don't know what you mean. I am just as good as any other woman and lots better than some I know. I go to church, and I subscribe to the charities, and I belong to the best clubs. [Anxiously.] Oh, please, Judge, it's these wrinkles that make me so unhappy. Won't you exchange them? You don't want me to be unhappy, do you? Please take them away.

JUDGE. [Wearily looking over the ledger.] Oh, very well, I'll see what I can do for you. [ToImp.] Fetch a chair for this lady.

[Impgives her a chair and she sits facing front.Impreturns to his desk, perches himself upon it and watches theVain Womaninterestedly.Judgeturns over the leaves of the ledger.

JUDGE. I have a goitre that I could exchange for your wrinkles.

VAINWOMAN. [Protestingly, clasping her hands to her throat.] Oh, heavens, no! That would ruin my beautiful throat. See. [Throwing back her fur and exposing her neck in a low-cut gown.] I have a lovely neck. [Impmakes an exaggerated attempt to see.

JUDGE. [Glances coldly at her and then scans ledger again.] Well, how about hay-fever?

VAINWOMAN. [Reproachfully.] Oh, Judge, how can you suggest such a thing! Watery eyes and a red nose, the worst enemy of beauty there is. I simply couldn't think of it. I want something that won't show.

JUDGE. [Disgustedly turns to filing cabinet and looks through a series of cards, withdraws one, and turns back toVain Woman.] Perhaps this will suit you. [Refers to card.] A woman has grown very tired of her husband and wants to exchange him for some other burden.

VAINWOMAN. [Indignantly.] What! I accept a man that some other woman doesn't want! Certainly not! I prefer one that some other woman does want.

JUDGE. [Irritated, puts the card back in its place, and turns upon theVain Womancrossly.] I fear that I cannot please you and I do not have time to——

IMP. [Interrupts and runs over to the railing, speaking soothingly to theJudge.] Excuse me, Judge, but maybe the lady would like deafness in exchange for her wrinkles. Deafness wouldn't show, so it couldn't spoil her face or her elegant figure.

JUDGE. [Wearily.] No, it won't show. Deafness ought to be a good thing for you.

VAINWOMAN. [Consideringly.] Why—yes—that might do. But—well, it wouldn't show. I've a notion to take it. [Pause—she seems to consider and meditate. TheJudgestares at her coldly.Impgrins impudently. She rises leisurely, sighs.] All right. I'll accept it.

JUDGE. [Sharply.] Hold up your right hand. [She raises hand.] Do you swear to accept deafness for better or for worse, as your portion of the world's miseries, so help you God?

VAINWOMAN. [Sweetly.] Oh, yes. I do, Judge.

JUDGE. [ToImp.] Show the lady to the changing-room.

IMP. [Escorts her to the curtained door with rather mock deference.] No, deafness won't show at all, and you'll have 'em all crazy about you. [Draws aside curtains for her to pass.] Take second booth to your right.

[Vain Womanstands posing a moment. She smiles radiantly and pats her cheeks softly with her hands, then with a long-drawn sigh of happiness, she exits.Impbows low and mockingly after her vanishing form, his hand on his heart.

JUDGE. [Sarcastically.] Do her faults or shortcomings trouble her? Not at all! Perfectly satisfied with herself, except for a few wrinkles in her face. Vain women! Bah!

IMP. Yes, sir; women have queer notions.

[An imperative rap at the street-door, immediately followed by the rapper's abrupt entrance. We see an important-appearing personage. His arrogant bearing and commanding pose lead us to believe that he is accustomed to prompt attention. It is theRich Citizen,exceedingly well groomed. His manner is lordly, but he addresses theJudgein a bored tone. WhenImpscampers to meet him, theRich Citizenhands him his hat and cane and turns at once to theJudge.Impexamines the hat and cane critically, hangs them on the hat-rack, and returns to his desk, where he again perches to watch theRich Citizen.

RICHCITIZEN. [Lighting a cigarette.] I am addressing the Judge, am I not?

JUDGE. [Shortly.] You are.

RICHCITIZEN. [Languidly, between puffs of his cigarette.] Well, Judge, life has become rather boresome, so I thought I would drop in and ask you to do me a small favor.

JUDGE. [Wearily.] Yes? We—What is your grievance?

RICHCITIZEN. [Nonchalantly.] Oh, I wouldn't say grievance exactly. You see, my dear Judge, it is this way. I am a very rich and influential citizen, a prominent member of society, and I am very much sought after.

JUDGE. [Frigidly.] Oh, indeed!

RICHCITIZEN. [In a very bored manner.] Yes. Women runafter me day and night. Ambitious mothers throw their marriageable daughters at my head. Men seek my advice on all matters. I am compelled to head this and that committee.

[Smokes languidly.

JUDGE. [Sharply.] Well, go on.

RICHCITIZEN. Really, Judge, my prestige has become a burden. I want to get away from it all. I would like to become a plain, ordinary man with an humble vocation, the humbler the better, so that people will cease bothering me.

JUDGE. [Sarcastically.] Is your prestige all that troubles you? Don't worry about your morals, I suppose. Satisfied with your habits and character?

RICHCITIZEN. [Coldly.] What have my habits or morals got to do with my request? [Scornfully.] Certainly I am not one of your saintly men. I live as a man of my station should live, and I think I measure up very well with the best of them. I am simply bored and I would like a change. I would like to be a plain man with an humble calling.

JUDGE. [Ironically.] I'll see what we have in humble callings. [He looks at the ledger, turning the leaves over slowly.] We have several bartenders' vocations.

RICHCITIZEN. [Wearily smoking.] No. Too many people about all the time, and too much noise.

JUDGE. Well, here's a janitor's job open to you.

RICHCITIZEN. [Impatiently throwing away his cigarette.] No. I don't like that, either. Too confining. Too many people bickering at you all the time. I want to get out in the open, away from crowds.

JUDGE. [Sighing, and turning over the leaves of the ledger, then hopefully.] Here's the very thing for you, then—postman in a rural district.

RICHCITIZEN. [Showing vexation.] No, no,no. Too many old women that want to gossip. I tell you, I want to get awayfrom women. Haven't you something peaceful and quiet; something that would take me out in the quiet of the early morning, when the birds are singing?

JUDGE. [Closing ledger with a bang, and rising.] Well, you're too particular, and I have not time to bother with you. I bid you good after——

IMP. [Slides from his desk, runs to railing, and speaks suavely.] Excuse me, Judge, but maybe the gentleman would like the vocation of milkman. That is early-morning work. And, you remember, a milkman left his job here when he took that old, worn-out senator's position.

JUDGE. [Sharply, toRich Citizen.] Well, how about it? Does a milkman's vocation suit you? It's early-morning hours, fresh air, and no people about.

RICHCITIZEN. [Musingly.] Well, the very simplicity and quietness of it is its charm. It rather appeals to me. [He ponders a moment.] Yes, by Jove, I'll take it.

JUDGE. [Sternly.] Hold up your right hand. "Do you solemnly swear to accept, for better or for worse, the vocation of milkman as your lot in life, so help you God?"

RICHCITIZEN. I do.

JUDGE. [ToImp.] Show this gentleman to the changing-room.

IMP. [While escorting him to the curtained door.] Yes, sir, you will lead the simple life. Fresh air, fresh milk, no people, just cows—and they can't talk. [Holding aside the curtains.] Third booth, sir.

RICHCITIZEN. [Musingly.] The simple life—peace and quietness.

[Exit.

JUDGE. [In disgust.] It's no use, Imp. They all cling to their vices, but they are very keen to change some little cross or condition that vexes them—or think vexes them.

IMP. It's strange that people always want something different from what they have.

[Impopens a drawer in his desk and takes out a bottle, evidently filled with tablets, which he holds up, shaking it and chuckling. He hunts in the drawer again, and this time brings forth a huge ear-trumpet, which he chucklingly places an his table beside the bottle of tablets.

JUDGE. Don't let any more in, Imp. I can't stand another one to-day. I am going to write a letter and then go home.

IMP. All right, sir.

JUDGE. I am feeling very tired; what I really need is a vacation. A sea-trip would put me right. By the way, Imp, where is that transatlantic folder that I told you to get?

[Imppicks up the folder from his desk and takes it to theJudge,who studies it attentively.Impreturns to his own desk, where he again looks in a drawer and brings forth a menu card, which he glances over, grinning mischievously.[The formerPoor Manre-enters from the changing-room. He is well dressed, and taking a well-filled wallet from his pocket, he looks at it gloatingly. However, from time to time, a shade of annoyance passes over his face, and he puts his hand to the pit of his stomach.Impruns to meet him, and hands him the menu that he has been reading.

[The formerPoor Manre-enters from the changing-room. He is well dressed, and taking a well-filled wallet from his pocket, he looks at it gloatingly. However, from time to time, a shade of annoyance passes over his face, and he puts his hand to the pit of his stomach.Impruns to meet him, and hands him the menu that he has been reading.

IMP. Here's a menu from the Gargoyle. Say, you sure do look swell!

[Looking him over admiringly.

FORMERPOORMAN. [Grinning happily.] Some class to me now, eh! [Looking at menu.] And you watch me pick out a real dinner. [Sits down at left front.] First, I'll have a cocktail, then—let's see—I'll have—another cocktail. Next, oysters, and [he frowns and presses his hand to the pit of his stomach, keeping up a massaging motion]—green-turtle soup, sand dabs—chicken breasts—

[They become absorbed over the menu.[TheVain Womanre-enters from the changing-room. She now has a smooth face, and she is looking at herself in ahand-glass, smiling and touching her face delightedly, She walks over to the railing, and leans over it to theJudge.He looks up questioningly.

[They become absorbed over the menu.

[TheVain Womanre-enters from the changing-room. She now has a smooth face, and she is looking at herself in ahand-glass, smiling and touching her face delightedly, She walks over to the railing, and leans over it to theJudge.He looks up questioningly.

VAINWOMAN. [Smiling.] Oh, I am so happy again. Am I not beautiful?

JUDGE. [Pityingly.] You are a vain, foolish woman.

[Since she is deaf, she does not hear his words, but thinks he is complimenting her. She smiles at him coyly.

VAINWOMAN. Ah, Judge, you too are susceptible to my charms.

[TheJudge,in great exasperation, puts away his papers, thrusts the transatlantic folder in his pocket, hastily closes his desk, and hurries to the hat-rack, puts on his overcoat, slips his skull-cap into his pocket and puts on his soft black hat. Then, with a shrug of his shoulders and a wave of his hand indicative of disgust, he slips quietly out.[TheVain Womansaunters past theFormer Poor Man,stops near him, posing, and begins to put on her gloves. He looks at her admiringly, then, getting to his feet, makes an elaborate but awkward bow.

[TheVain Womansaunters past theFormer Poor Man,stops near him, posing, and begins to put on her gloves. He looks at her admiringly, then, getting to his feet, makes an elaborate but awkward bow.

FORMERPOORMAN. Excuse me, lady, but I've had a big piece of luck to-day, and I want to celebrate, so I am having a big dinner. Won't you join me and help me have a good time?

VAINWOMAN. [Looking at him blankly, and trying to fathom what he has said.] Oh—why, what did you say?

FORMERPOORMAN. [Hesitating, and a bit surprised.] Why—er—I said that I had a big piece of luck to-day, and I am going to celebrate. I am having a fine dinner, and I just asked if—if—you wouldn't have dinner with me.

VAINWOMAN. [Still looking blank and a little confused, then smiling archly and acting as though she had been hearing compliments, she speaks affectedly.] Really, do you think so? [Looking down and smoothing her dress.] But, then, every one tells me that I am.

FORMERPOORMAN. [Puzzled, turns toImpfor help.] Just what is her trouble, Nut?

IMP. [Secretly gleeful.] She is stone-deaf. You had better write it.

FORMERPOORMAN. Never! No deaf ones for me.

[Turns away and consults menu again.Vain Womanposes and frequently looks in hand-glass to reassure herself.[Former Rich Citizenre-enters from the changing-room. He is dressed in shabby overalls, jumper, and an old hat. He has a pipe in his mouth. He walks arrogantly over to theFormer Poor Manand addresses him.

[Turns away and consults menu again.Vain Womanposes and frequently looks in hand-glass to reassure herself.

[Former Rich Citizenre-enters from the changing-room. He is dressed in shabby overalls, jumper, and an old hat. He has a pipe in his mouth. He walks arrogantly over to theFormer Poor Manand addresses him.

FORMERRICHCITIZEN. Give me a light.

FORMERPOORMAN. [Trying to live up to his fine clothes and wallet full of money, looks theFormer Rich Citizenover snubbingly.] Say, who do you think you are? You light out, see?

FORMERRICHCITIZEN. [Very much surprised, stands nonplussed a moment.] Well, upon my word, I—I——

[He stops short in his speech, walks haughtily over to the railing, where he stands glowering at theFormer Poor Man.TheFormer Poor Manstarts for the street door, butImpruns after him, waving the bottle of tablets.

IMP. I'll sell you these for two bits.

FORMERPOORMAN. What is that?

IMP. [Grinning.] Indigestion tablets.

FORMERPOORMAN. [Puts his hand to his stomach and laughs a little lamely.] Keep 'em; I don't need 'em.

[Vain Womanfastens her fur and starts for the street-door, giving theFormer Rich Citizena snubbing look as she passes him.Impstops her and offers the ear-trumpet.

IMP. You might need this; I'll sell it for a dollar.

[She does not hear what he says, but she looks her scorn at the ear-trumpet and walks proudly out.

FORMERRICHCITIZEN. [Fumbling at his pocket, as if to find a watch.] Boy, what time is it? I haven't my watch.

IMP. [Grinning mischievously.] Time to milk the cows.

[TheFormer Rich Citizenstarts angrily towardImp,then evidently thinking better of it, shrugs his shoulders and stalks majestically to the street-door. He pauses with it partly open, turns as if to speak toImp,drawing himself up haughtily—a ludicrous figure in his shabby outfit—then he goes abruptly out, slamming the door.[Impdoubles himself up in a paroxysm of glee as the curtain falls.

[Impdoubles himself up in a paroxysm of glee as the curtain falls.

A fortnight has passed. The curtain rises upon the same stage-setting. TheJudgeis not about, but we seeImpasleep in a chair. All seems quiet and serene. But suddenly the street-door opens noisily, and theFormer Poor Manbursts into the room. He is panting, as though he had been running. He is haggard and seems in great pain, for occasionally he moans. He looks wildly about the room, and seeingImpasleep in the chair, he rushes to him and shakes him roughly.Impwakes slowly, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

FORMERPOORMAN. [Frantically.] The Judge, where is he? I must see him at once.

IMP. [Yawning.] You're too early. He isn't down yet.

[Settles himself to go to sleep again.

FORMERPOORMAN. [Walking the floor, and holding his hands to his stomach.] Don't go to sleep again. I'm nearly crazy. What time does the Judge get here? Where does he live? Can't we send for him?

IMP. [Indifferently.] Oh, he is liable to come any minute—and then he may not come for an hour or two.

FORMERPOORMAN. [Pacing the floor, moaning and rubbinghis stomach.] Oh, I can't stand it much longer. It's driving me wild, I tell you. I do wish the Judge would come.

IMP. [Getting up from his chair and keeping step with theFormer Poor Man.] What's the matter? I thought all you wanted was to eat, drink, and be merry.

FORMERPOORMAN. [Frantically waving his arms.] Eat, drink, and be merry be——! Everything I eat gives me indigestion something awful; everything I drink gives it to me worse. How can I be merry when I am in this torment all the time? I tell you this pain is driving me mad. I want to get rid of it quick. Oh, why doesn't the Judge come?

IMP. What's the Judge got to do with it?

FORMERPOORMAN. [Pathetically.] I am going to beg him to take back this indigestion and give me back my poverty. It was not so bad, after all; not nearly so bad as this pain in my stomach.

[The street-door opens slowly, and a sorrowful woman enters. She is weeping softly. It is theVain Woman.Gone is her posing and her proud manner. She walks humbly to the railing, and not seeing theJudge, she turns toImp.TheFormer Poor Manlooks at theVain Woman,frowningly muttering: "What's she here for?" Then he sits down at the left and rocks back and forth in misery.

VAINWOMAN. [Tearfully.] I must see the Judge right away, please.

IMP. [Languidly.] He isn't down yet. You're too earl——

VAINWOMAN. [Interrupting.] Tell him that it is very important, that I am in great distress and that he must see me at once.

IMP. [Loudly.] I said that he was not down yet.

[Seeing that she does not understand, he takes a writing-pad from his desk, scribbles a few words, and standing in front of her, holds it up for her to read.

VAINWOMAN. [After reading.] Oh, when will he be here? Can't you get him to come right away? Oh, I am so unhappy.

[She walks the floor in agitation.

[TheFormer Poor Mangrunts in irritation and turns his back on her.

VAINWOMAN. I cannot hear a word that is said to me. No one seems to want me around, and I am not invited out any more. I have the feeling that people are making fun of me instead of praising my beauty. Oh, it is dreadful to be deaf. [Getting hysterical.] I want the Judge to take away this deafness. I would rather have my wrinkles.

[Impshakes his head in pretended sympathy, saying: "Too bad, too bad."[She misunderstands and cries out.

[Impshakes his head in pretended sympathy, saying: "Too bad, too bad."

[She misunderstands and cries out.

VAINWOMAN. Has the Judge given away my wrinkles? I want them back. I want my very own wrinkles, too. Wrinkles are distinguished-looking. [Beginning to sob.] I don't want to be deaf any longer.

IMP. [Running over to theFormer Poor Man.] Say, this lady feels very bad. Can't you cheer her up a little?

FORMERPOORMAN. [Who is still rocking back and forth with his own misery, looks up atImpin disgust.] Cheer—her—up! Me? What's the joke?

[TheVain Womanwalks to the curtained door, looks in as if seeking something, then returns to a chair, where she sits, weeping softly.[A peculiar thumping is heard at the street-door. TheFormer Poor Manjumps to his feet in expectancy, hoping it is theJudge.Imp,also, stands waiting. The door opens as though the person that opened it did so with difficulty. TheFormer Rich Citizenhobbles in. He is ragged and dirty, and one foot is bandaged, which causes him to use a crutch. He carries a large milk-can. He hobbles painfully to the centre of the stage. TheFormerPoor Mangrunts with disappointment, and sits down again, rubbing away at his stomach. TheVain Womansits with bowed head, silently weeping. TheFormer Rich Citizenlooks about, then addressesImpin a rather husky voice.

[TheVain Womanwalks to the curtained door, looks in as if seeking something, then returns to a chair, where she sits, weeping softly.

[A peculiar thumping is heard at the street-door. TheFormer Poor Manjumps to his feet in expectancy, hoping it is theJudge.Imp,also, stands waiting. The door opens as though the person that opened it did so with difficulty. TheFormer Rich Citizenhobbles in. He is ragged and dirty, and one foot is bandaged, which causes him to use a crutch. He carries a large milk-can. He hobbles painfully to the centre of the stage. TheFormerPoor Mangrunts with disappointment, and sits down again, rubbing away at his stomach. TheVain Womansits with bowed head, silently weeping. TheFormer Rich Citizenlooks about, then addressesImpin a rather husky voice.

FORMERRICHCITIZEN. I wish to see the Judge at once. It is most urgent.

IMP. [With an ill-concealed smile.] You can't see the Judge at once.

FORMERRICHCITIZEN. [Impatiently.] Why not? I told you it was most urgent.

IMP. [Grinning openly.] Because he isn't here. He hasn't come in yet. What's your trouble?

FORMERRICHCITIZEN. [Vehemently.] Trouble! Everything's the trouble! I have been abused, insulted, overworked—even the cows have kicked me. [Looking down at his bandaged foot.] I can't stand it. I won't stand it. I want back my proper place in the world, where I am respected, and where I can rest and sleep and mingle with my kind.

[He hobbles to a chair and sits down wearily.

FORMERPOORMAN. [Getting up from his chair, walks over to theFormer Rich Citizen,waggles his finger in his face and speaks fretfully.] What cause have you to squeal so? If you had indigestion like I have all the time, you might be entitled to raise a holler. Why, I can't eat a thing without having the most awful pain right here [puts his hand to the pit of his stomach], and when I take a drink, oh, heavens, it——

FORMERRICHCITIZEN. [Interrupting contemptuously.] You big baby, howling about the stomachache. If you had a man-sized trouble, there might be some excuse for you. Now I, who have been used to wealth and respect, have been subjected to the most gruelling ordeals; why, in that dairy there were a million cows, and they kicked me, and horned me, and I——

VAINWOMAN. [Walks over to them, interrupting their talk,and speaks in a voice punctuated with sniffing sobs.] Have—[sniff] either of you gentlemen [sniff] ever been deaf? [Sniff, sniff.] It is a terrible thing [sniff] for a beautiful woman like I am [sniff] to have such an affliction.

[Sniff, sniff, sniff.

[Former Rich Citizenshrugs his shoulders indifferently and limps to the other side of the stage, where he sits.

FORMERPOORMAN. [Stalks over to the railing, where he leans limply.] Lord deliver me from a sniffling woman.

[Imp,who is perched on his desk, chuckles wickedly of their sufferings.Vain Womansinks dejectedly into the chair vacated by theFormer Rich Citizen.[A knock is heard at the street-door. TheFormer Poor Manand theFormer Rich Citizenstart forward eagerly, expecting theJudge.Even theVain Woman,seeing the others rise, gets to her feet hopefully.Imphastily slides from his desk and, pulling down his tight little jacket and cocking his round little cap a little more over one eye, goes to see who knocks. A messenger hands him a letter and silently departs.

[Imp,who is perched on his desk, chuckles wickedly of their sufferings.Vain Womansinks dejectedly into the chair vacated by theFormer Rich Citizen.

[A knock is heard at the street-door. TheFormer Poor Manand theFormer Rich Citizenstart forward eagerly, expecting theJudge.Even theVain Woman,seeing the others rise, gets to her feet hopefully.Imphastily slides from his desk and, pulling down his tight little jacket and cocking his round little cap a little more over one eye, goes to see who knocks. A messenger hands him a letter and silently departs.

IMP. [Importantly.] Letter for me from the Judge.

FORMERPOORMAN. A letter! Why doesn't he come himself?

FORMERRICHCITIZEN. Send for him, boy.

IMP. [Grins atFormer Rich Citizenin an insolent manner.] Well, well, I wonder what the Judge is writing to me for. It's queer he would send me a letter.

[He looks the letter over carefully, both sides; holds it up to the light, smells it, shakes it. The two men and the woman grow more and more nervous.

FORMERPOORMAN. [Extremely irritated.] For goodness' sake, open it and read it.

FORMERRICHCITIZEN. Yes, yes, and don't be so long about it.

[Vain Womansimply stands pathetically and waits.Impwalks over to his desk, hunts for a knife, finally finds one; looks letter over again, then slowly slits the envelope and draws out letter, which he reads silently to himself. They are breathlessly waiting.Impwhistles softly to himself.

IMP. Well, what do you think of that!

FORMERPOORMAN. [Excitedly.] What is it—why don't you tell us?

FORMERRICHCITIZEN. [Pounding with his crutch on the floor.] Come, come, don't keep me waiting like this.

IMP. [Reads letter again, silently, chuckling.] All right. Here it is. [Reads.]

"My dear Imp:

"I have tried faithfully for years to aid distressed humanity, but they are an ungrateful lot of fools, and I wash my hands of them. When this letter reaches you I will be on the high seas, and I am never coming back. So write 'Finis' in the big old ledger of miseries, and shut up shop, for the Exchange is closed—forever.

Yours in disgust,THEJUDGE."

[They all stand dazed a moment. TheVain Woman,sensing that something terrible has happened, rushes from one to the other, saying: "What is it? What has happened?"Impgives her the letter to read.

FORMERPOORMAN. [In a perfect frenzy.] My God! Indigestion all the rest of my days.

VAINWOMAN. [After reading letter collapses in a chair, hysterically sobbing out.] Deaf, always deaf! Oh, what shall I do!

FORMERRICHCITIZEN. [Leaning heavily on his crutch and shaking his free hand, clenched in anger.] This is an outrage. I am rich and have influence, and I shall take steps to—to——

[Implaughs mockingly. The man looks down at his milk-spattered clothes, his bandaged foot, and, letting his crutchfall to the floor, sinks dejectedly into a chair, burying his face in his hands.[Impdangles his keys and opens the street-door, as an invitation for them to go. TheFormer Poor Manis the first to start, moving dazedly and breathing hard.Impoffers him the bottle of indigestion tablets; the man grasps them, eagerly, tippingImp,who chuckles as he pockets the money. TheFormer Poor Mantakes a tablet as he exits. TheVain Woman,bowed with sorrow, moves slowly toward the door.Imptouches her arm and offers the ear-trumpet. She accepts it, with a wild sob, tippingImp,who again chuckles as he pockets the money. The last we see of theVain Woman,she is trying to hold the ear-trumpet to her ear, and exits, sobbing. TheFormer Rich Citizenstill sits in his chair, his head in his hands.Imppicks up the milk-can, and, tapping the man not too gently on the shoulder, thrusts the milk-can at him and makes a significant gesture, indicative of—This Way Out.The man rises dejectedly, picks up his crutch, takes the milk-can, and hobbles painfully toward the door.Impdoubles himself up in wild Mephistophelian glee as the

[Implaughs mockingly. The man looks down at his milk-spattered clothes, his bandaged foot, and, letting his crutchfall to the floor, sinks dejectedly into a chair, burying his face in his hands.

[Impdangles his keys and opens the street-door, as an invitation for them to go. TheFormer Poor Manis the first to start, moving dazedly and breathing hard.Impoffers him the bottle of indigestion tablets; the man grasps them, eagerly, tippingImp,who chuckles as he pockets the money. TheFormer Poor Mantakes a tablet as he exits. TheVain Woman,bowed with sorrow, moves slowly toward the door.Imptouches her arm and offers the ear-trumpet. She accepts it, with a wild sob, tippingImp,who again chuckles as he pockets the money. The last we see of theVain Woman,she is trying to hold the ear-trumpet to her ear, and exits, sobbing. TheFormer Rich Citizenstill sits in his chair, his head in his hands.Imppicks up the milk-can, and, tapping the man not too gently on the shoulder, thrusts the milk-can at him and makes a significant gesture, indicative of—This Way Out.The man rises dejectedly, picks up his crutch, takes the milk-can, and hobbles painfully toward the door.Impdoubles himself up in wild Mephistophelian glee as the

CURTAIN FALLS

Sam Averageis reprinted by special permission of Percy Mackaye. This play first appeared inYankee Fantasies, Duffield & Company, New York.Special NoticeNo public or private performance of this play—professional or amateur—and no public reading of it for money may be given without the written permission of the author and the payment of royalty. Persons who desire to obtain such permission should communicate direct with the author at his address, Harvard Club, 27 West 44th Street, New York City.

Sam Averageis reprinted by special permission of Percy Mackaye. This play first appeared inYankee Fantasies, Duffield & Company, New York.

Special Notice

No public or private performance of this play—professional or amateur—and no public reading of it for money may be given without the written permission of the author and the payment of royalty. Persons who desire to obtain such permission should communicate direct with the author at his address, Harvard Club, 27 West 44th Street, New York City.

PERCY MACKAYE

Percy Mackaye, who was born in New York City in 1875, is one of the few Americans whose interest has been almost wholly in the theatre. As a lecturer, writer, and champion of real art in drama, he has had few if any equals. He inherited his interest in drama from his father, Steele Mackaye, author ofHazel Kirke. He was educated at Harvard, where he studied under Professor George Pierce Baker, and at Leipzig. He has travelled extensively in Europe and at various times has resided in Rome, Switzerland, and London. In 1914 Dartmouth conferred upon him the honorary Master of Arts degree. At present he holds a fellowship in dramatic literature in Miami University, Oxford, Ohio.

Mr. Mackaye's efforts in the dramatic field have been varied. Masques, pageants, operas, and plays are to his credit.The Canterbury Pilgrims,The Scarecrow,Jeanne D'Arc,Mater,Anti-Matrimony,Sanctuary,Saint Louis Masque, andCalibanare among his better-known works.

In 1912 appeared his Yankee Fantasies, of whichSam AverageandGettysburgare the more noteworthy.

In all of Mr. Mackaye's work he possesses what many dramatists lack—a definite ideal. He aims at an artistic and literary effect. HisSam Averageis a real contribution to American patriotic drama.

An intrenchment in Canada, near Niagara Falls, in the year 1814. Night, shortly before dawn.

On the right, the dull glow of a smouldering wood fire ruddies the earthen embankment, the low-stretched outline of which forms, with darkness, the scenic background.

Near the centre, left, against the dark, a flag with stars floats from its standard.

Beside the fire,Andrew,reclined, gazes at a small frame in his hand; near him is a knapsack, with contents emptied beside it.

On the embankment,Joel,with a gun, paces back and forth, a blanket thrown about his shoulders.

JOEL. [With a singing call.] Four o'clock!—All's well!

[Jumping down from the embankment, he approaches the fire.

ANDREW. By God, Joel, it's bitter.

JOEL. [Rubbing his hands over the coals.] A mite sharpish.

ANDREW. [Looks up eagerly.] What?

JOEL. Cuts sharp, for Thanksgivin'.

ANDREW. [Sinks back, gloomily.] Oh! [A pause.] I wondered you should agree with me. You meant the weather. I meant—

[A pause again.

JOEL. Well, Andy, what'd you mean?

ANDREW. Life.

JOEL. Shucks!

ANDREW. [To himself.] Living!

JOEL. [Sauntering over left, listens.] Hear a rooster crow?

ANDREW. No. What are you doing?

JOEL. Tiltin' the flag over crooked in the dirt. That's our signal.

ANDREW. Nothing could be more appropriate, unless we buried it—buried it in the dirt!

JOEL. She's to find us where the flag's turned down. I fixed that with the sergeant all right. The rooster crowin' 'sherwatchword for us.

ANDREW. An eagle screaming, Joel: that would have been better. [Rising.] Ah!

[He laughs painfully.

JOEL. Hush up, Andy! The nearest men ain't two rods away. You'll wake 'em. Pitch it low.

ANDREW. Don't be alarmed. I'm coward enough.

JOEL. 'Course, though, there ain't much danger. I'm sentinel this end, and the sergeant has the tip at t'other. Besides, you may call it the reg'lar thing. There's been two thousand deserters already in this tuppenny-ha'penny war, and none on 'em the worse off. When a man don't get his pay for nine months—well, he ups and takes his vacation. Why not? When Nell joins us, we'll hike up the Niagara, cross over to Tonawanda, and take our breakfast in Buffalo. By that time the boys here will be marchin' away toward Lundy's Lane.

ANDREW. [Walks back and forth, shivering.] I'm afraid.

JOEL. 'Fraid? Bosh!

ANDREW. I'm afraid to face——

JOEL. Face what? We won't get caught.

ANDREW. Your sister—my wife.

JOEL. Nell! Why, ain't she comin' here just a-purpose to get you? Ain't there reason enough, Lord knows? Ain't you made up your mind to light out home anyhow?

ANDREW. Yes. That's just what she'll never forgive me for. In her heart she'll never think of me the same. For she knows as well as I what pledge I'll be breaking—what sacred pledge.

JOEL. What you mean?

ANDREW. No matter, no matter; this is gush.

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