"Close by the Greek temples at Paestum there are violets that seem redder, and sweeter, than any ever seen—as though they have sprung up out of the footprints of some old pagan goddess; but under the April sun, in a Devonshire lane, the little blue scentless violets capture every bit as much of the spring." Affection for the West country that was the home of John Galsworthy's ancestors heightens the glamour of this enchanting bit of writing from one of his essays. As he himself has said, the Galsworthys have been in Devonshire as far back as records go—"since the flood of Saxons at all events." He was born, though, at Coombe in Surrey in 1867. From 1881 to 1886, he was at Harrow where he did well at work and games. He was graduated with an honor degree in law from New College, Oxford, in 1889. Following his father's example, he took up the law and was called to the bar (Lincoln's Inn) in 1890. "I read," he says, "in various chambers, practised almost not at all, and disliked my profession thoroughly."
For nearly two years thereafter, Galsworthy traveled, visiting among other places, Russia, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, the Fiji Islands, and South Africa. On a sailing-ship plying between Adelaide and the Cape he met and made a friend of the novelist, Joseph Conrad, then still a sailor. Galsworthy was soon to become a writer himself, publishing his first novel in 1899. Since that date he has written novels, plays, essays, and verse that have made him famous.[55]Through his writings he has become a great social force. In this respect his influence resembles that of Charles Dickens. He has made people who read his books or see his plays acted think about the justice or injustice of institutions commonly accepted without a question. The presentation of his playJustice(1909), moved the Home Secretary of the day, Winston Churchill, to put into effect several important reforms affecting the English prison system.
The Little Man, no less a socializing agency in its way, was produced in New York at Maxine Elliott's Theatre in February, 1917, as a curtain raiser to G. K. Chesterton's play, Magic. The part of the Little Man himself was taken by O. P. Heggie, one of the most intelligent and distinguished actors on the English-speaking stage. J. Ranken Towse, reviewing the performance for the Saturday Magazine of theNew York Evening Post, on February 17, 1917, wrote: "Another entertainment of notable excellence is that provided by the double bill at Maxine Elliott's Theatre, consisting of Galsworthy'sThe Little Manand Chesterton'sMagic. Here are two plays of diverse character and superior quality, in which some highly intelligent and artistic acting is done by Mr. O. P. Heggie. Some sensitive reviewers have found cause of offense in Mr. Galsworthy's somewhat fanciful American, but the dramatist has been equally disrespectful in his handling of Germans, Dutch, and English. The value and significance of the piece, of course, are to be looked for, not in its broad humors—which are largely conventional—but in the ethical and moral lesson and profound social philosophy which they suggest and illustrate." It is hard to sympathize with the "sensitive reviewers," though to the native ear, to be sure, the utterances of the American lack verisimilitude. The author ofThe Little Manhas even been humorously reproached with using the speech of Deadwood Dick for his model.
The play was also given quite recently, during the season of 1920-21, as part of the repertory at the Everyman Theatre in London. On the programs invariably appears the note which is prefixed also to this as to every printed version. It explains carefully that this play was written before the days of the Great War. This note bespeaks the playwright's perfect detachment which is, as has been said, "an artistic device, not a matter of divine indifference." Yet the satire does seem to be directed, incidentally at least, against certain familiar national characteristics, for it is the humanity of the Little Man, whose mixed ancestry is described by the American as being "a bit streaky," that puts to shame the various types of human arrogance and indifference with which he is surrounded.
SCENE I.—Afternoon, on the departure platform of an Austrian railway station. At several little tables outside the buffet persons are taking refreshment, served by a pale young waiter. On a seat against the wall of the buffet a woman of lowly station is sitting beside two large bundles, on one of which she has placed her baby, swathed in a black shawl.
Waiter[approaching a table whereat sit an English traveler and his wife]. Zwei Kaffee?Englishman[paying]. Thanks. [To his wife, in an Oxford voice.] Sugar?Englishwoman[in a Cambridge voice]. One.American Traveler[with field-glasses and a pocket camera—from another table]. Waiter, I'd like to have you get my eggs. I've been sitting here quite a while.Waiter. Yes, sare.German Traveler. Kellner, bezahlen! [His voice is, like his mustache, stiff and brushed up at the ends. His figure also is stiff and his hair a little gray; clearly once, if not now, a colonel.]Waiter. Komm' gleich! [The baby on the bundle wails. The mother takes it up to soothe it. A young, red-cheeked Dutchman at the fourth table stops eating and laughs.]American. My eggs! Get a wiggle on you!Waiter. Yes, sare. [He rapidly recedes. ALittle Manin a soft hat is seen to the right of the tables. He stands a moment looking after the hurrying waiter, then seats himself at the fifth table.]Englishman[looking at his watch]. Ten minutes more.Englishwoman. Bother!American[addressing them]. 'Pears as if they'd a prejudice against eggs here, anyway. [The English look at him, but do not speak.]German[in creditable English]. In these places man can get nothing. [TheWaitercomes flying back with a compote for theDutch Youth,who pays.]German. Kellner, bezahlen!Waiter. Eine Krone sechzig. [TheGermanpays.]American[rising, and taking out his watch—blandly]. See here! If I don't get my eggs before this watch ticks twenty, there'll be another waiter in heaven.Waiter[flying]. Komm' gleich!American[seeking sympathy]. I'm gettin' kind of mad![TheEnglishmanhalves his newspaper and hands the advertisement half to his wife. TheBabywails. TheMotherrocks it. TheDutch Youthstops eating and laughs. TheGermanlights a cigarette. TheLittle Mansits motionless, nursing his hat. TheWaitercomes flying back with the eggs and places them before theAmerican.]American[putting away his watch]. Good! I don't like trouble. How much? [He pays and eats. TheWaiterstands a moment at the edge of the platform and passes his hand across his brow. TheLittle Maneyes him and speaks gently.]Little Man. Herr Ober! [TheWaiterturns.] Might I have a glass of beer?Waiter. Yes, sare.Little Man. Thank you very much. [TheWaitergoes.]American[pausing in the deglutition of his eggs—affably]. Pardon me, sir; I'd like to have you tell me why you called that little bit of a feller "Herr Ober." Reckon you would know what that means? Mr. Head Waiter.Little Man. Yes, yes.American. I smile.Little Man. Oughtn't I to call him that?German[abruptly]. Nein—Kellner.American. Why, yes! Just "waiter." [TheEnglishwomanlooks round her paper for a second. TheDutch Youthstops eating and laughs. TheLittle Mangazes from face to face and nurses his hat.]Little Man. I didn't want to hurt his feelings.German. Gott!American. In my country we're vurry democratic—but that's quite a proposition.Englishman[handling coffee-pot, to his wife]. More?Englishwoman. No, thanks.German[abruptly]. These fellows—if you treat them in this manner, at once they take liberties. You see, you will not get your beer. [As he speaks theWaiterreturns, bringing theLittle Man'sbeer, then retires.]American. That 'pears to be one up to democracy. [To theLittle Man.] I judge you go in for brotherhood?Little Man[startled]. Oh, no! I never—American. I take considerable stock in Leo Tolstoi myself. Grand man—grand-souled apparatus. But I guess you've got to pinch those waiters some to make 'em skip. [To theEnglish,who have carelessly looked his way for a moment.] You'll appreciate that, the way he acted about my eggs. [TheEnglishmake faint motions with their chins, and avert their eyes. To theWaiter,who is standing at the door of the buffet.] Waiter! Flash of beer—jump, now!Waiter. Komm' gleich!German. Cigarren!Waiter. Schön. [He disappears.]American[affably—to theLittle Man]. Now, if I don't get that flash of beer quicker'n you got yours, I shall admire.German[abruptly]. Tolstoi is nothing—nichts! No good! Ha?American[relishing the approach of argument]. Well, that is a matter of temperament. Now, I'm all for equality. See that poor woman there—vurry humble woman—there she sits among us with her baby. Perhaps you'd like to locate her somewhere else?German[shrugging]. Tolstoi is sentimentalisch. Nietzsche is the true philosopher, the only one.American. Well, that's quite in the prospectus—vurry stimulating party—old Nietzsch—virgin mind. But give me Leo! [He turns to the red-cheeked youth.] What do you opine, sir? I guess by your labels, you'll be Dutch. Do they read Tolstoi in your country? [TheDutch Youthlaughs.]American. That is a vurry luminous answer.German. Tolstoi is nothing. Man should himself express. He must push—he must be strong.American. That is so. In Amurrica we believe in virility; we like a man to expand—to cultivate his soul. But we believe in brotherhood too; we're vurry democratic. We draw the line at niggers; but we aspire, we're vurry high-souled. Social barriers and distinctions we've not much use for.Englishman. Do you feel a draught?Englishwoman[with a shiver of her shoulder toward theAmerican]. I do—rather.German. Wait! You are a young people.American. That is so; there are no flies on us. [To theLittle Man,who has been gazing eagerly from face to face.] Say! I'd like to have you give us your sentiments in relation to the duty of man. [TheLittle Manfidgets, and is about to open his mouth.]American. For example—is it your opinion that we should kill off the weak and diseased, and all that can't jump around?German[nodding]. Ja, ja! That is coming.Little Man[looking from face to face]. They might be me. [TheDutch Youthlaughs.]American[reproving him with a look]. That's true humility. 'Tisn't grammar. Now, here's a proposition that brings it nearer the bone: Would you step out of your way to help them when it was liable to bring you trouble?German. Nein, nein! That is stupid.Little Man[eager but wistful]. I'm afraid not. Of course one wants to—German. Nein, nein! That is stupid! What is the duty?Little Man. There was St. Francis d'Assisi and St. Julien l'Hospitalier, and—American. Vurry lofty dispositions. Guess they died of them. [He rises.] Shake hands, sir—my name is—[He hands a card.] I am an ice-machine maker. [He shakes theLittle Man'shand.] I like your sentiments—I feel kind of brotherly. [Catching sight of theWaiterappearing in the doorway.] Waiter, where to h—ll is that flash of beer?German. Cigarren!Waiter. Komm' gleich! [He vanishes.]Englishman[consulting watch]. Train's late.Englishwoman. Really! Nuisance! [A stationPoliceman,very square and uniformed, passes and repasses.]American[resuming his seat—to theGerman]. Now, we don't have so much of that in Amurrica. Guess we feel more to trust in human nature.German. Ah! ha! you will bresently find there is nothing in him but self.Little Man[wistfully]. Don't you believe in human nature?American. Vurry stimulating question. That invites remark. [He looks round for opinions. TheDutch Youthlaughs.]Englishman[holding out his half of the paper to his wife]. Swap! [His wife swaps.]German. In human nature I believe so far as I can see him—no more.American. Now that 'pears to me kind o' blasphemy. I'm vurry idealistic; I believe in heroism. I opine there's not one of us settin' around here that's not a hero—give him the occasion.Little Man. Oh! Do you believe that?American. Well! I judge a hero is just a person that'll help another at the expense of himself. That's a vurry simple definition. Take that poor woman there. Well, now, she's a heroine, I guess. She would die for her baby any old time.German. Animals will die for their babies. That is nothing.American. Vurry true. I carry it further. I postulate we would all die for that baby if a locomotive was to trundle up right here and try to handle it. I'm an idealist. [To theGerman.] I guessyoudon't know how good you are. [As theGermanis twisting up the ends of his mustache—to theEnglishwoman.] I should like to have you express an opinion, ma'am. This is a high subject.Englishwoman. I beg your pardon.American. The English are vurry humanitarian; they have a vurry high sense of duty. So have the Germans, so have the Amurricans. [To theDutch Youth.] I judge even in your little country they have that. This is a vurry civilized epoch. It is an epoch of equality and high-toned ideals. [To theLittle Man.] What is your nationality, sir?Little Man. I'm afraid I'm nothing particular. My father was half-English and half-American, and my mother half-German and half-Dutch.American. My! That's a bit streaky, any old way. [ThePolicemanpasses again.] Now, I don't believe we've much use any more for those gentlemen in buttons, not amongst the civilized peoples. We've grown kind of mild—we don't think of self as we used to do. [TheWaiterhas appeared in the doorway.]German[in a voice of thunder]. Cigarren! Donnerwetter!American[shaking his fist at the vanishingWaiter]. That flash of beer!Waiter. Komm' gleich!American. A little more, and he will join George Washington! I was about to remark when he intruded: The kingdom of Christ nowadays is quite a going concern. The Press is vurry enlightened. We are mighty near to universal brotherhood. The colonel here [he indicates theGerman], he doesn't know what a lot of stock he holds in that proposition. He is a man of blood and iron, but give him an opportunity to be magnanimous, and he'll be right there. Oh, sir! yes. [TheGerman,with a profound mixture of pleasure and cynicism, brushes up the ends of his mustache.]Little Man. I wonder. One wants to, but somehow—[He shakes his head.]American. You seem kind of skeery about that. You've had experience maybe. The flesh is weak. I'm an optimist—I think we're bound to make the devil hum in the near future. I opine we shall occasion a good deal of trouble to that old party. There's about to be a holocaust of selfish interests. We're out for high sacrificial business. The colonel there with old-man Nietzsch—he won't know himself. There's going to be a vurry sacred opportunity. [As he speaks, the voice of aRailway Officialis heard in the distance calling out in German. It approaches, and the words become audible.]German[startled]. Der Teufel! [He gets up, and seizes the bag beside him. TheStation Officialhas appeared, he stands for a moment casting his commands at the seated group. TheDutch Youthalso rises, and takes his coat and hat. TheOfficialturns on his heel and retires, still issuing directions.]Englishman. What does he say?German. Our drain has come in, de oder platform; only one minute we haf. [All have risen in a fluster.]American. Now, that's vurry provoking. I won't get that flash of beer. [There is a general scurry to gather coats and hats and wraps, during which the lowly woman is seen making desperate attempts to deal with her baby and the two large bundles. Quite defeated, she suddenly puts all down, wrings her hands, and cries out: "Herr Jesu! Hilfe!" The flying procession turn their heads at that strange cry.]American. What's that? Help? [He continues to run. TheLittle Manspins round, rushes back, picks up baby and bundle on which it was seated.]Little Man. Come along, good woman, come along! [The woman picks up the other bundle and they run. TheWaiter,appearing in the doorway with the bottle of beer, watches with his tired smile.]
Waiter[approaching a table whereat sit an English traveler and his wife]. Zwei Kaffee?
Englishman[paying]. Thanks. [To his wife, in an Oxford voice.] Sugar?
Englishwoman[in a Cambridge voice]. One.
American Traveler[with field-glasses and a pocket camera—from another table]. Waiter, I'd like to have you get my eggs. I've been sitting here quite a while.
Waiter. Yes, sare.
German Traveler. Kellner, bezahlen! [His voice is, like his mustache, stiff and brushed up at the ends. His figure also is stiff and his hair a little gray; clearly once, if not now, a colonel.]
Waiter. Komm' gleich! [The baby on the bundle wails. The mother takes it up to soothe it. A young, red-cheeked Dutchman at the fourth table stops eating and laughs.]
American. My eggs! Get a wiggle on you!
Waiter. Yes, sare. [He rapidly recedes. ALittle Manin a soft hat is seen to the right of the tables. He stands a moment looking after the hurrying waiter, then seats himself at the fifth table.]
Englishman[looking at his watch]. Ten minutes more.
Englishwoman. Bother!
American[addressing them]. 'Pears as if they'd a prejudice against eggs here, anyway. [The English look at him, but do not speak.]
German[in creditable English]. In these places man can get nothing. [TheWaitercomes flying back with a compote for theDutch Youth,who pays.]
German. Kellner, bezahlen!
Waiter. Eine Krone sechzig. [TheGermanpays.]
American[rising, and taking out his watch—blandly]. See here! If I don't get my eggs before this watch ticks twenty, there'll be another waiter in heaven.
Waiter[flying]. Komm' gleich!
American[seeking sympathy]. I'm gettin' kind of mad!
[TheEnglishmanhalves his newspaper and hands the advertisement half to his wife. TheBabywails. TheMotherrocks it. TheDutch Youthstops eating and laughs. TheGermanlights a cigarette. TheLittle Mansits motionless, nursing his hat. TheWaitercomes flying back with the eggs and places them before theAmerican.]
American[putting away his watch]. Good! I don't like trouble. How much? [He pays and eats. TheWaiterstands a moment at the edge of the platform and passes his hand across his brow. TheLittle Maneyes him and speaks gently.]
Little Man. Herr Ober! [TheWaiterturns.] Might I have a glass of beer?
Waiter. Yes, sare.
Little Man. Thank you very much. [TheWaitergoes.]
American[pausing in the deglutition of his eggs—affably]. Pardon me, sir; I'd like to have you tell me why you called that little bit of a feller "Herr Ober." Reckon you would know what that means? Mr. Head Waiter.
Little Man. Yes, yes.
American. I smile.
Little Man. Oughtn't I to call him that?
German[abruptly]. Nein—Kellner.
American. Why, yes! Just "waiter." [TheEnglishwomanlooks round her paper for a second. TheDutch Youthstops eating and laughs. TheLittle Mangazes from face to face and nurses his hat.]
Little Man. I didn't want to hurt his feelings.
German. Gott!
American. In my country we're vurry democratic—but that's quite a proposition.
Englishman[handling coffee-pot, to his wife]. More?
Englishwoman. No, thanks.
German[abruptly]. These fellows—if you treat them in this manner, at once they take liberties. You see, you will not get your beer. [As he speaks theWaiterreturns, bringing theLittle Man'sbeer, then retires.]
American. That 'pears to be one up to democracy. [To theLittle Man.] I judge you go in for brotherhood?
Little Man[startled]. Oh, no! I never—
American. I take considerable stock in Leo Tolstoi myself. Grand man—grand-souled apparatus. But I guess you've got to pinch those waiters some to make 'em skip. [To theEnglish,who have carelessly looked his way for a moment.] You'll appreciate that, the way he acted about my eggs. [TheEnglishmake faint motions with their chins, and avert their eyes. To theWaiter,who is standing at the door of the buffet.] Waiter! Flash of beer—jump, now!
Waiter. Komm' gleich!
German. Cigarren!
Waiter. Schön. [He disappears.]
American[affably—to theLittle Man]. Now, if I don't get that flash of beer quicker'n you got yours, I shall admire.
German[abruptly]. Tolstoi is nothing—nichts! No good! Ha?
American[relishing the approach of argument]. Well, that is a matter of temperament. Now, I'm all for equality. See that poor woman there—vurry humble woman—there she sits among us with her baby. Perhaps you'd like to locate her somewhere else?
German[shrugging]. Tolstoi is sentimentalisch. Nietzsche is the true philosopher, the only one.
American. Well, that's quite in the prospectus—vurry stimulating party—old Nietzsch—virgin mind. But give me Leo! [He turns to the red-cheeked youth.] What do you opine, sir? I guess by your labels, you'll be Dutch. Do they read Tolstoi in your country? [TheDutch Youthlaughs.]
American. That is a vurry luminous answer.
German. Tolstoi is nothing. Man should himself express. He must push—he must be strong.
American. That is so. In Amurrica we believe in virility; we like a man to expand—to cultivate his soul. But we believe in brotherhood too; we're vurry democratic. We draw the line at niggers; but we aspire, we're vurry high-souled. Social barriers and distinctions we've not much use for.
Englishman. Do you feel a draught?
Englishwoman[with a shiver of her shoulder toward theAmerican]. I do—rather.
German. Wait! You are a young people.
American. That is so; there are no flies on us. [To theLittle Man,who has been gazing eagerly from face to face.] Say! I'd like to have you give us your sentiments in relation to the duty of man. [TheLittle Manfidgets, and is about to open his mouth.]
American. For example—is it your opinion that we should kill off the weak and diseased, and all that can't jump around?
German[nodding]. Ja, ja! That is coming.
Little Man[looking from face to face]. They might be me. [TheDutch Youthlaughs.]
American[reproving him with a look]. That's true humility. 'Tisn't grammar. Now, here's a proposition that brings it nearer the bone: Would you step out of your way to help them when it was liable to bring you trouble?
German. Nein, nein! That is stupid.
Little Man[eager but wistful]. I'm afraid not. Of course one wants to—
German. Nein, nein! That is stupid! What is the duty?
Little Man. There was St. Francis d'Assisi and St. Julien l'Hospitalier, and—
American. Vurry lofty dispositions. Guess they died of them. [He rises.] Shake hands, sir—my name is—[He hands a card.] I am an ice-machine maker. [He shakes theLittle Man'shand.] I like your sentiments—I feel kind of brotherly. [Catching sight of theWaiterappearing in the doorway.] Waiter, where to h—ll is that flash of beer?
German. Cigarren!
Waiter. Komm' gleich! [He vanishes.]
Englishman[consulting watch]. Train's late.
Englishwoman. Really! Nuisance! [A stationPoliceman,very square and uniformed, passes and repasses.]
American[resuming his seat—to theGerman]. Now, we don't have so much of that in Amurrica. Guess we feel more to trust in human nature.
German. Ah! ha! you will bresently find there is nothing in him but self.
Little Man[wistfully]. Don't you believe in human nature?
American. Vurry stimulating question. That invites remark. [He looks round for opinions. TheDutch Youthlaughs.]
Englishman[holding out his half of the paper to his wife]. Swap! [His wife swaps.]
German. In human nature I believe so far as I can see him—no more.
American. Now that 'pears to me kind o' blasphemy. I'm vurry idealistic; I believe in heroism. I opine there's not one of us settin' around here that's not a hero—give him the occasion.
Little Man. Oh! Do you believe that?
American. Well! I judge a hero is just a person that'll help another at the expense of himself. That's a vurry simple definition. Take that poor woman there. Well, now, she's a heroine, I guess. She would die for her baby any old time.
German. Animals will die for their babies. That is nothing.
American. Vurry true. I carry it further. I postulate we would all die for that baby if a locomotive was to trundle up right here and try to handle it. I'm an idealist. [To theGerman.] I guessyoudon't know how good you are. [As theGermanis twisting up the ends of his mustache—to theEnglishwoman.] I should like to have you express an opinion, ma'am. This is a high subject.
Englishwoman. I beg your pardon.
American. The English are vurry humanitarian; they have a vurry high sense of duty. So have the Germans, so have the Amurricans. [To theDutch Youth.] I judge even in your little country they have that. This is a vurry civilized epoch. It is an epoch of equality and high-toned ideals. [To theLittle Man.] What is your nationality, sir?
Little Man. I'm afraid I'm nothing particular. My father was half-English and half-American, and my mother half-German and half-Dutch.
American. My! That's a bit streaky, any old way. [ThePolicemanpasses again.] Now, I don't believe we've much use any more for those gentlemen in buttons, not amongst the civilized peoples. We've grown kind of mild—we don't think of self as we used to do. [TheWaiterhas appeared in the doorway.]
German[in a voice of thunder]. Cigarren! Donnerwetter!
American[shaking his fist at the vanishingWaiter]. That flash of beer!
Waiter. Komm' gleich!
American. A little more, and he will join George Washington! I was about to remark when he intruded: The kingdom of Christ nowadays is quite a going concern. The Press is vurry enlightened. We are mighty near to universal brotherhood. The colonel here [he indicates theGerman], he doesn't know what a lot of stock he holds in that proposition. He is a man of blood and iron, but give him an opportunity to be magnanimous, and he'll be right there. Oh, sir! yes. [TheGerman,with a profound mixture of pleasure and cynicism, brushes up the ends of his mustache.]
Little Man. I wonder. One wants to, but somehow—[He shakes his head.]
American. You seem kind of skeery about that. You've had experience maybe. The flesh is weak. I'm an optimist—I think we're bound to make the devil hum in the near future. I opine we shall occasion a good deal of trouble to that old party. There's about to be a holocaust of selfish interests. We're out for high sacrificial business. The colonel there with old-man Nietzsch—he won't know himself. There's going to be a vurry sacred opportunity. [As he speaks, the voice of aRailway Officialis heard in the distance calling out in German. It approaches, and the words become audible.]
German[startled]. Der Teufel! [He gets up, and seizes the bag beside him. TheStation Officialhas appeared, he stands for a moment casting his commands at the seated group. TheDutch Youthalso rises, and takes his coat and hat. TheOfficialturns on his heel and retires, still issuing directions.]
Englishman. What does he say?
German. Our drain has come in, de oder platform; only one minute we haf. [All have risen in a fluster.]
American. Now, that's vurry provoking. I won't get that flash of beer. [There is a general scurry to gather coats and hats and wraps, during which the lowly woman is seen making desperate attempts to deal with her baby and the two large bundles. Quite defeated, she suddenly puts all down, wrings her hands, and cries out: "Herr Jesu! Hilfe!" The flying procession turn their heads at that strange cry.]
American. What's that? Help? [He continues to run. TheLittle Manspins round, rushes back, picks up baby and bundle on which it was seated.]
Little Man. Come along, good woman, come along! [The woman picks up the other bundle and they run. TheWaiter,appearing in the doorway with the bottle of beer, watches with his tired smile.]
SCENE II.—A second-class compartment of a corridor carriage, in motion. In it are seated theEnglishmanand his wife, opposite each other at the corridor end, she with her face to the engine, he with his back. Both are somewhat protected from the rest of the travelers by newspapers. Next to her sits theGerman,and opposite him sits theAmerican;next theAmericanin one window corner is seated theDutch Youth;the other window corner is taken by theGerman'sbag.The silence is only broken by the slight rushing noise of the train's progression and the crackling of the English newspapers.
American[turning to theDutch Youth]. Guess I'd like that winder raised; it's kind of chilly after that old run they gave us. [TheDutch Youthlaughs, and goes through the motions of raising the window. TheEnglishregard the operation with uneasy irritation. TheGermanopens his bag, which reposes on the corner seat next him, and takes out a book.]American. The Germans are great readers. Vurry stimulating practice. I read most anything myself! [TheGermanholds up the book so that the title may be read.] "Don Quixote"—fine book. We Amurricans take considerable stockin old man Quixote. Bit of a wild-cat—but we don't laugh at him.German. He is dead. Dead as a sheep. A good thing, too.American. In Amurrica we have still quite an amount of chivalry.German. Chivalry is nothing—sentimentalisch. In modern days—no good. A man must push, he must pull.American. So you say. But I judge your form of chivalry is sacrifice to the state. We allow more freedom to the individual soul. Where there's something little and weak, we feel it kind of noble to give up to it. That way we feel elevated. [As he speaks there is seen in the corridor doorway theLittle Man,with theWoman's Babystill on his arm and the bundle held in the other hand. He peers in anxiously. TheEnglish,acutely conscious, try to dissociate themselves from his presence with their papers. TheDutch Youthlaughs.]German. Ach! So!American. Dear me!Little Man. Is there room? I can't find a seat.American. Why, yes! There's a seat for one.Little Man[depositing bundle outside, and heavingBaby]. May I?American. Come right in! [TheGermansulkily moves his bag. TheLittle Mancomes in and seats himself gingerly.]American. Where's the mother?Little Man[ruefully]. Afraid she got left behind. [TheDutch Youthlaughs. TheEnglishunconsciously emerge from their newspapers.]American. My! That would appear to be quite a domestic incident. [TheEnglishmansuddenly utters a profound "Ha, Ha!" and disappears behind his paper. And that paper and the one opposite are seen to shake, and little squirls and squeaks emerge.]German. And you haf got her bundle, and her baby. Ha! [He cackles dryly.]American[gravely]. I smile. I guess Providence has played it pretty low down on you. I judge it's acted real mean. [TheBabywails, and theLittle Manjigs it with a sort of gentle desperation, looking apologetically from face to face. His wistful glance renews the fire of merriment wherever it alights.TheAmericanalone preserves a gravity which seems incapable of being broken.]American. Maybe you'd better get off right smart and restore that baby. There's nothing can act madder than a mother.Little Man. Poor thing; yes! What she must be suffering! [A gale of laughter shakes the carriage. TheEnglishfor a moment drop their papers, the better to indulge. TheLittle Mansmiles a wintry smile.]American[in a lull]. How did it eventuate?Little Man. We got there just as the train was going to start; and I jumped, thinking I could help her up. But it moved too quickly, and—and—left her. [The gale of laughter blows up again.]American. Guess I'd have thrown the baby out.Little Man. I was afraid the poor little thing might break. [TheBabywails; theLittle Manheaves it; the gale of laughter blows.]American[gravely]. It's highly entertaining—not for the baby. What kind of an old baby is it, anyway? [He sniffs.] I judge it's a bit—niffy.Little Man. Afraid I've hardly looked at it yet.American. Which end up is it?Little Man. Oh! I think the right end. Yes, yes, it is.American. Well, that's something. Guess I should hold it out of winder a bit. Vurry excitable things, babies!Englishwoman[galvanized]. No, no!Englishman[touching her knee]. My dear!American. You are right, ma'am. I opine there's a draught out there. This baby is precious. We've all of us got stock in this baby in a manner of speaking. This is a little bit of universal brotherhood. Is it a woman baby?Little Man. I—I can only see the top of its head.American. You can't always tell from that. It looks kind of over-wrapped-up. Maybe it had better be unbound.German. Nein, nein, nein!American. I think you are vurry likely right, colonel. It might be a pity to unbind that baby. I guess the lady should be consulted in this matter.Englishwoman. Yes, yes, of course—I—Englishman[touching her]. Let it be! Little beggar seems all right.American. That would seem only known to Providence at this moment. I judge it might be due to humanity to look at its face.Little Man[gladly]. It's sucking my finger. There, there—nice little thing—there!American. I would surmise you have created babies in your leisure moments, sir?Little Man. Oh! no—indeed, no.American. Dear me! That is a loss. [Addressing himself to the carriage at large.] I think we may esteem ourselves fortunate to have this little stranger right here with us; throws a vurry tender and beautiful light on human nature. Demonstrates what a hold the little and weak have upon us nowadays. The colonel here—a man of blood and iron—there he sits quite ca'm next door to it. [He sniffs.] Now, this baby is ruther chastening—that is a sign of grace, in the colonel—that is true heroism.Little Man[faintly]. I—I can see its face a little now. [All bend forward.]American. What sort of a physiognomy has it, anyway?Little Man[still faintly]. I don't see anything but—but spots.German. Oh! Ha! Pfui! [TheDutch Youthlaughs.]American. I am told that is not uncommon amongst babies. Perhaps we could have you inform us, ma'am.Englishwoman. Yes, of course—only—what sort of—Little Man. They seem all over its—[At the slight recoil of everyone.] I feel sure it's—it's quite a good baby underneath.American. That will be ruther difficult to come at. I'm just a bit sensitive. I've vurry little use for affections of the epidermis.German. Pfui! [He has edged away as far as he can get, and is lighting a big cigar. TheDutch Youthdraws his legs back.]American[also taking out a cigar]. I guess it would be well to fumigate this carriage. Does it suffer, do you think?Little Man[peering]. Really, I don't—I'm not sure—Iknow so little about babies. I think it would have a nice expression—if—if it showed.American. Is it kind of boiled-looking?Little Man. Yes—yes, it is.American[looking gravely round]. I judge this baby has the measles. [TheGermanscrews himself spasmodically against the arm of theEnglishwoman'sseat.]Englishwoman. Poor little thing! Shall I—? [She half-rises.]Englishman[touching her]. No, no—Dash it!American. I honor your emotion, ma'am. It does credit to us all. But I sympathize with your husband too. The measles is a vurry important pestilence in connection with a grown woman.Little Man. It likes my finger awfully. Really, it's rather a sweet baby.American[sniffing]. Well, that would appear to be quite a question. About them spots, now? Are they rosy?Little Man. No—o; they're dark, almost black.German. Gott! Typhus! [He bounds up onto the arm of theEnglishwoman'sseat.]American. Typhus! That's quite an indisposition! [TheDutch Youthrises suddenly, and bolts out into the corridor. He is followed by theGerman,puffing clouds of smoke. TheEnglishandAmericansit a moment longer without speaking. TheEnglishwoman'sface is turned with a curious expression—half-pity, half-fear—toward theLittle Man.Then theEnglishmangets up.]Englishman. Bit stuffy for you here, dear, isn't it? [He puts his arm through hers, raises her, and almost pushes her through the doorway. She goes, still looking back.]American[gravely]. There's nothing I admire more'n courage. Guess I'll go and smoke in the corridor. [As he goes out theLittle Manlooks very wistfully after him. Screwing up his mouth and nose, he holds theBabyaway from him and wavers; then rising, he puts it on the seat opposite and goes through the motions of letting down the window. Having done so he looks at theBaby,who has begun to wail. Suddenly he raises his hands and clasps them, like a child praying. Since, however, theBabydoes not stop wailing, he hovers over it in indecision; then, picking it up, sits down again to dandle it,with his face turned toward the open window. Finding that it still wails, he begins to sing to it in a cracked little voice. It is charmed at once. While he is singing, theAmericanappears in the corridor. Letting down the passage window, he stands there in the doorway with the draught blowing his hair and the smoke of his cigar all about him. TheLittle Manstops singing and shifts the shawl higher, to protect theBaby'shead from the draught.]American[gravely]. This is the most sublime spectacle I have ever envisaged. There ought to be a record of this. [TheLittle Manlooks at him, wondering.] We have here a most stimulating epitome of our marvelous advance toward universal brotherhood. You are typical, sir, of the sentiments of modern Christianity. You illustrate the deepest feelings in the heart of every man. [TheLittle Manrises with theBabyand a movement of approach.] Guess I'm wanted in the dining-car. [He vanishes.] [TheLittle Mansits down again, but back to the engine, away from the draught, and looks out of the window, patiently jogging theBabyon his knee.]
American[turning to theDutch Youth]. Guess I'd like that winder raised; it's kind of chilly after that old run they gave us. [TheDutch Youthlaughs, and goes through the motions of raising the window. TheEnglishregard the operation with uneasy irritation. TheGermanopens his bag, which reposes on the corner seat next him, and takes out a book.]
American. The Germans are great readers. Vurry stimulating practice. I read most anything myself! [TheGermanholds up the book so that the title may be read.] "Don Quixote"—fine book. We Amurricans take considerable stockin old man Quixote. Bit of a wild-cat—but we don't laugh at him.
German. He is dead. Dead as a sheep. A good thing, too.
American. In Amurrica we have still quite an amount of chivalry.
German. Chivalry is nothing—sentimentalisch. In modern days—no good. A man must push, he must pull.
American. So you say. But I judge your form of chivalry is sacrifice to the state. We allow more freedom to the individual soul. Where there's something little and weak, we feel it kind of noble to give up to it. That way we feel elevated. [As he speaks there is seen in the corridor doorway theLittle Man,with theWoman's Babystill on his arm and the bundle held in the other hand. He peers in anxiously. TheEnglish,acutely conscious, try to dissociate themselves from his presence with their papers. TheDutch Youthlaughs.]
German. Ach! So!
American. Dear me!
Little Man. Is there room? I can't find a seat.
American. Why, yes! There's a seat for one.
Little Man[depositing bundle outside, and heavingBaby]. May I?
American. Come right in! [TheGermansulkily moves his bag. TheLittle Mancomes in and seats himself gingerly.]
American. Where's the mother?
Little Man[ruefully]. Afraid she got left behind. [TheDutch Youthlaughs. TheEnglishunconsciously emerge from their newspapers.]
American. My! That would appear to be quite a domestic incident. [TheEnglishmansuddenly utters a profound "Ha, Ha!" and disappears behind his paper. And that paper and the one opposite are seen to shake, and little squirls and squeaks emerge.]
German. And you haf got her bundle, and her baby. Ha! [He cackles dryly.]
American[gravely]. I smile. I guess Providence has played it pretty low down on you. I judge it's acted real mean. [TheBabywails, and theLittle Manjigs it with a sort of gentle desperation, looking apologetically from face to face. His wistful glance renews the fire of merriment wherever it alights.TheAmericanalone preserves a gravity which seems incapable of being broken.]
American. Maybe you'd better get off right smart and restore that baby. There's nothing can act madder than a mother.
Little Man. Poor thing; yes! What she must be suffering! [A gale of laughter shakes the carriage. TheEnglishfor a moment drop their papers, the better to indulge. TheLittle Mansmiles a wintry smile.]
American[in a lull]. How did it eventuate?
Little Man. We got there just as the train was going to start; and I jumped, thinking I could help her up. But it moved too quickly, and—and—left her. [The gale of laughter blows up again.]
American. Guess I'd have thrown the baby out.
Little Man. I was afraid the poor little thing might break. [TheBabywails; theLittle Manheaves it; the gale of laughter blows.]
American[gravely]. It's highly entertaining—not for the baby. What kind of an old baby is it, anyway? [He sniffs.] I judge it's a bit—niffy.
Little Man. Afraid I've hardly looked at it yet.
American. Which end up is it?
Little Man. Oh! I think the right end. Yes, yes, it is.
American. Well, that's something. Guess I should hold it out of winder a bit. Vurry excitable things, babies!
Englishwoman[galvanized]. No, no!
Englishman[touching her knee]. My dear!
American. You are right, ma'am. I opine there's a draught out there. This baby is precious. We've all of us got stock in this baby in a manner of speaking. This is a little bit of universal brotherhood. Is it a woman baby?
Little Man. I—I can only see the top of its head.
American. You can't always tell from that. It looks kind of over-wrapped-up. Maybe it had better be unbound.
German. Nein, nein, nein!
American. I think you are vurry likely right, colonel. It might be a pity to unbind that baby. I guess the lady should be consulted in this matter.
Englishwoman. Yes, yes, of course—I—
Englishman[touching her]. Let it be! Little beggar seems all right.
American. That would seem only known to Providence at this moment. I judge it might be due to humanity to look at its face.
Little Man[gladly]. It's sucking my finger. There, there—nice little thing—there!
American. I would surmise you have created babies in your leisure moments, sir?
Little Man. Oh! no—indeed, no.
American. Dear me! That is a loss. [Addressing himself to the carriage at large.] I think we may esteem ourselves fortunate to have this little stranger right here with us; throws a vurry tender and beautiful light on human nature. Demonstrates what a hold the little and weak have upon us nowadays. The colonel here—a man of blood and iron—there he sits quite ca'm next door to it. [He sniffs.] Now, this baby is ruther chastening—that is a sign of grace, in the colonel—that is true heroism.
Little Man[faintly]. I—I can see its face a little now. [All bend forward.]
American. What sort of a physiognomy has it, anyway?
Little Man[still faintly]. I don't see anything but—but spots.
German. Oh! Ha! Pfui! [TheDutch Youthlaughs.]
American. I am told that is not uncommon amongst babies. Perhaps we could have you inform us, ma'am.
Englishwoman. Yes, of course—only—what sort of—
Little Man. They seem all over its—[At the slight recoil of everyone.] I feel sure it's—it's quite a good baby underneath.
American. That will be ruther difficult to come at. I'm just a bit sensitive. I've vurry little use for affections of the epidermis.
German. Pfui! [He has edged away as far as he can get, and is lighting a big cigar. TheDutch Youthdraws his legs back.]
American[also taking out a cigar]. I guess it would be well to fumigate this carriage. Does it suffer, do you think?
Little Man[peering]. Really, I don't—I'm not sure—Iknow so little about babies. I think it would have a nice expression—if—if it showed.
American. Is it kind of boiled-looking?
Little Man. Yes—yes, it is.
American[looking gravely round]. I judge this baby has the measles. [TheGermanscrews himself spasmodically against the arm of theEnglishwoman'sseat.]
Englishwoman. Poor little thing! Shall I—? [She half-rises.]
Englishman[touching her]. No, no—Dash it!
American. I honor your emotion, ma'am. It does credit to us all. But I sympathize with your husband too. The measles is a vurry important pestilence in connection with a grown woman.
Little Man. It likes my finger awfully. Really, it's rather a sweet baby.
American[sniffing]. Well, that would appear to be quite a question. About them spots, now? Are they rosy?
Little Man. No—o; they're dark, almost black.
German. Gott! Typhus! [He bounds up onto the arm of theEnglishwoman'sseat.]
American. Typhus! That's quite an indisposition! [TheDutch Youthrises suddenly, and bolts out into the corridor. He is followed by theGerman,puffing clouds of smoke. TheEnglishandAmericansit a moment longer without speaking. TheEnglishwoman'sface is turned with a curious expression—half-pity, half-fear—toward theLittle Man.Then theEnglishmangets up.]
Englishman. Bit stuffy for you here, dear, isn't it? [He puts his arm through hers, raises her, and almost pushes her through the doorway. She goes, still looking back.]
American[gravely]. There's nothing I admire more'n courage. Guess I'll go and smoke in the corridor. [As he goes out theLittle Manlooks very wistfully after him. Screwing up his mouth and nose, he holds theBabyaway from him and wavers; then rising, he puts it on the seat opposite and goes through the motions of letting down the window. Having done so he looks at theBaby,who has begun to wail. Suddenly he raises his hands and clasps them, like a child praying. Since, however, theBabydoes not stop wailing, he hovers over it in indecision; then, picking it up, sits down again to dandle it,with his face turned toward the open window. Finding that it still wails, he begins to sing to it in a cracked little voice. It is charmed at once. While he is singing, theAmericanappears in the corridor. Letting down the passage window, he stands there in the doorway with the draught blowing his hair and the smoke of his cigar all about him. TheLittle Manstops singing and shifts the shawl higher, to protect theBaby'shead from the draught.]
American[gravely]. This is the most sublime spectacle I have ever envisaged. There ought to be a record of this. [TheLittle Manlooks at him, wondering.] We have here a most stimulating epitome of our marvelous advance toward universal brotherhood. You are typical, sir, of the sentiments of modern Christianity. You illustrate the deepest feelings in the heart of every man. [TheLittle Manrises with theBabyand a movement of approach.] Guess I'm wanted in the dining-car. [He vanishes.] [TheLittle Mansits down again, but back to the engine, away from the draught, and looks out of the window, patiently jogging theBabyon his knee.]
SCENE III.—An arrival platform. TheLittle Man,with theBabyand the bundle, is standing disconsolate, while travelers pass and luggage is being carried by. AStation Official,accompanied by aPoliceman,appears from a doorway, behind him.
Official[consulting telegram in his hand]. Das ist der Herr. [They advance to theLittle Man.]Official. Sie haben einen Buben gestohlen?Little Man. I only speak English and American.Official. Dies ist nicht Ihr Bube? [He touches theBaby.]Little Man[shaking his head]. Take care—it's ill. [The man does not understand.] Ill—the baby—Official[shaking his head]. Verstehe nicht. Dis is nod your baby? No?Little Man[shaking his head violently]. No, it is not. No.Official[tapping the telegram]. Gut! You are 'rested. [He signs to thePoliceman,who takes theLittle Man'sarm.]Little Man. Why? I don't want the poor baby.Official[lifting the bundle]. Dies ist nicht Ihr Gepäck—pag?Little Man. No.Official. Gut. You are 'rested.Little Man. I only took it for the poor woman. I'm not a thief—I'm—I'm—Official[shaking head]. Verstehe nicht. [TheLittle Mantries to tear his hair. The disturbedBabywails.]Little Man[dandling it as best he can]. There, there—poor, poor!Official. Halt still! You are 'rested. It is all right.Little Man. Where is the mother?Official. She comm by next drain. Das telegram say: Halt einen Herrn mit schwarzem Buben and schwarzem Gepäck. 'Rest gentleman mit black baby und black—pag. [TheLittle Manturns up his eyes to heaven.]Official. Komm mit us. [They take theLittle Mantoward the door from which they have come. A voice stops them.]American[speaking from as far away as may be]. Just a moment! [TheOfficialstops; theLittle Manalso stops and sits down on a bench against the wall. ThePolicemanstands stolidly beside him. TheAmericanapproaches a step or two, beckoning; theOfficialgoes up to him.]American. Guess you've got an angel from heaven there! What's the gentleman in buttons for?Official. Was ist das?American. Is there anybody here that can understand Amurrican?Official. Verstehe nicht.American. Well, just watch my gestures. I was saying [he points to theLittle Man, then makes gestures of flying], you have an angel from heaven there. You have there a man in whom Gawd [he points upward] takes quite an amount of stock. This is a vurry precious man. You have no call to arrest him [he makes the gesture of arrest]. No, sir. Providence has acted pretty mean, loading off that baby on him [he makes the motion of dandling]. The little man has a heart of gold. [He points to his heart, and takes out a gold coin.]Official[thinking he is about to be bribed]. Aber, das istzuviel!American. Now, don't rattle me! [Pointing to theLittle Man.] Man [pointing to his heart] Herz [pointing to the coin] von Gold. This is a flower of the field—he don't want no gentleman in buttons to pluck him up. [A little crowd is gathering, including the twoEnglish,theGerman,and theDutch Youth.]Official. Verstehe absolut nichts. [He taps the telegram.] Ich muss mein duty do.American. But I'm telling you. This is a good man. This is probably the best man on Gawd's airth.Official. Das macht nichts—gut or no gut, I muss mein duty do. [He turns to go toward theLittle Man.]American. Oh! Vurry well, arrest him; do your duty. This baby has typhus. [At the word "typhus" theOfficialstops.]American[making gestures]. First-class typhus, black typhus, schwarzen typhus. Now you have it. I'm kind o' sorry for you and the gentleman in buttons. Do your duty!Official. Typhus? Der Bub'—die baby hat typhus?American. I'm telling you.Official. Gott im Himmel!American[spotting theGermanin the little throng]. Here's a gentleman will corroborate me.Official[much disturbed, and signing to thePolicemanto stand clear]. Typhus! Aber das ist grässlich!American. I kind o' thought you'd feel like that.Official. Die Sanitätsmachine! Gleich! [APortergoes to get it. From either side the broken half-moon of persons stand gazing at theLittle Man,who sits unhappily dandling theBabyin the center.]Official[raising his hands]. Was zu thun?American. Guess you'd better isolate the baby. [A silence, during which theLittle Manis heard faintly whistling and clucking to theBaby.]Official[referring once more to his telegram]. 'Rest gentleman mit black baby. [Shaking his head.] Wir must de gentleman hold. [To theGerman.] Bitte, mein Herr, sagen Sie ihm, den Buben zu niedersetzen. [He makes the gesture of deposit.]German[to theLittle Man]. He say: Put down thebaby. [TheLittle Manshakes his head, and continues to dandle theBaby.]Official. Sie müssen—you must. [TheLittle Manglowers, in silence.]Englishman[in background—muttering]. Good man!German. His spirit ever denies; er will nicht.Official[again making his gesture]. Aber er muss! [TheLittle Manmakes a face at him.] Sag' ihm: Instantly put down baby, and komm' mit us. [TheBabywails.]Little Man. Leave the poor ill baby here alone? Be-be-be-d—d first!American[jumping onto a trunk—with enthusiasm]. Bully! [TheEnglishclap their hands; theDutch Youthlaughs. TheOfficialis muttering, greatly incensed.]American. What does that body-snatcher say?German. He say this man use the baby to save himself from arrest. Very smart—he say.American. I judge you do him an injustice. [Showing off theLittle Manwith a sweep of his arm.] This is a vurry white man. He's got a black baby, and he won't leave it in the lurch. Guess we would all act noble, that way, give us the chance. [TheLittle Manrises, holding out theBaby,and advances a step or two. The half-moon at once gives, increasing its size; theAmericanclimbs onto a higher trunk. TheLittle Manretires and again sits down.]American[addressing theOfficial]. Guess you'd better go out of business and wait for the mother.Official[stamping his foot]. Die Mutter sall 'rested be for taking out baby mit typhus. Ha! [To theLittle Man.] Put ze baby down! [TheLittle Mansmiles.] Do you 'ear?American[addressing theOfficial]. Now, see here. 'Pears to me you don't suspicion just how beautiful this is. Here we have a man giving his life for that old baby that's got no claim on him. This is not a baby of his own making. No, sir, this a vurry Christ-like proposition in the gentleman.Official. Put ze baby down, or ich will gommand someone it to do.American. That will be vurry interesting to watch.Official[toPoliceman]. Nehmen Sie den Buben. Dake it vrom him. [ThePolicemanmutters, but does not.]American[to theGerman]. Guess I lost that.German. He say he is not his officer.American. That just tickles me to death.Official[looking round]. Vill nobody dake ze Bub'?Englishwoman[moving a step—faintly]. Yes—I—Englishman[grasping her arm]. By Jove! Will you!Official[gathering himself for a great effort to take theBaby,and advancing two steps]. Zen I gommand you—[He stops and his voice dies away.] Zit dere!American. My! That's wonderful. What a man this is! What a sublime sense of duty! [TheDutch Youthlaughs. TheOfficialturns on him, but as he does so theMotherof theBabyis seen hurrying.]Mother. Ach! Ach! Mei' Bubi! [Her face is illumined; she is about to rush to theLittle Man.]Official[to thePoliceman]. Nimm die Frau! [ThePolicemancatches hold of theWoman.]Official[to the frightenedWoman]. Warum haben Sie einen Buben mit Typhus mit ausgebracht?American[eagerly, from his perch]. What was that? I don't want to miss any.German. He say: Why did you a baby with typhus with you bring out?American. Well, that's quite a question. [He takes out the field-glasses slung around him and adjusts them on theBaby.]Mother[bewildered], Mei' Bubi—Typhus—aber Typhus? [She shakes her head violently.] Nein, nein, nein! Typhus!Official. Er hat Typhus.Mother[shaking her head]. Nein, nein, nein!American[looking through his glasses]. Guess she's kind of right! I judge the typhus is where the baby's slobbered on the shawl, and it's come off on him. [TheDutch Youthlaughs.]Official[turning on him furiously]. Er hat Typhus.American. Now, that's where you slop over. Come right here. [TheOfficialmounts, and looks through the glasses.]American[to theLittle Man]. Skin out the baby's leg. If we don't locate spots on that, it'll be good enough for me. [TheLittle Manfumbles out theBaby'slittle white foot.]Mother. Mei' Bubi! [She tries to break away.]American. White as a banana. [To theOfficial—affably.] Guess you've made kind of a fool of us with your old typhus.Official. Lass die Frau! [ThePolicemanlets her go, and she rushes to herBaby.]Mother. Mei' Bubi! [TheBaby,exchanging the warmth of theLittle Manfor the momentary chill of itsMother,wails.]Official[descending and beckoning to thePoliceman]. Sie wollen den Herrn accusiren? [ThePolicemantakes theLittle Man'sarm.]American. What's that? They goin' to pinch him after all? [TheMother,still hugging herBaby,who has stopped crying, gazes at theLittle Man,who sits dazedly looking up. Suddenly she drops on her knees, and with her free hand lifts his booted foot and kisses it.]American[waving his hat]. 'Ra! 'Ra! [He descends swiftly, goes up to theLittle Man,whose arm thePolicemanhas dropped, and takes his hand.] Brother, I am proud to know you. This is one of the greatest moments I have ever experienced. [Displaying theLittle Manto the assembled company.] I think I sense the situation when I say that we all esteem it an honor to breathe the rather inferior atmosphere of this station here along with our little friend. I guess we shall all go home and treasure the memory of his face as the whitest thing in our museum of recollections. And perhaps this good woman will also go home and wash the face of our little brother here. I am inspired with a new faith in mankind. We can all be proud of this mutual experience; we have our share in it; we can kind of feel noble. Ladies and gentlemen, I wish to present to you a sure-enough saint—only wants a halo, to be transfigured. [To theLittle Man.] Stand right up. [TheLittle Manstands up bewildered. They come about him. TheOfficialbows to him, thePolicemansalutes him. TheDutch Youthshakes his head and laughs. TheGermandraws himself up very straight, and bows quickly twice. TheEnglishmanand his wife approach at least two steps, then, thinking better of it, turn to each other and recede. TheMotherkisses his hand. ThePorterreturning with the Sanitätsmachine, turns it on from behind, and its pinkish shower, goldened by a ray of sunlight, falls around theLittleMan'shead, transfiguring it as he stands with eyes upraised to see whence the portent comes.]American[rushing forward and dropping on his knees]. Hold on just a minute! Guess I'll take a snap-shot of the miracle. [He adjusts his pocket camera.] This ought to look bully!
Official[consulting telegram in his hand]. Das ist der Herr. [They advance to theLittle Man.]
Official. Sie haben einen Buben gestohlen?
Little Man. I only speak English and American.
Official. Dies ist nicht Ihr Bube? [He touches theBaby.]
Little Man[shaking his head]. Take care—it's ill. [The man does not understand.] Ill—the baby—
Official[shaking his head]. Verstehe nicht. Dis is nod your baby? No?
Little Man[shaking his head violently]. No, it is not. No.
Official[tapping the telegram]. Gut! You are 'rested. [He signs to thePoliceman,who takes theLittle Man'sarm.]
Little Man. Why? I don't want the poor baby.
Official[lifting the bundle]. Dies ist nicht Ihr Gepäck—pag?
Little Man. No.
Official. Gut. You are 'rested.
Little Man. I only took it for the poor woman. I'm not a thief—I'm—I'm—
Official[shaking head]. Verstehe nicht. [TheLittle Mantries to tear his hair. The disturbedBabywails.]
Little Man[dandling it as best he can]. There, there—poor, poor!
Official. Halt still! You are 'rested. It is all right.
Little Man. Where is the mother?
Official. She comm by next drain. Das telegram say: Halt einen Herrn mit schwarzem Buben and schwarzem Gepäck. 'Rest gentleman mit black baby und black—pag. [TheLittle Manturns up his eyes to heaven.]
Official. Komm mit us. [They take theLittle Mantoward the door from which they have come. A voice stops them.]
American[speaking from as far away as may be]. Just a moment! [TheOfficialstops; theLittle Manalso stops and sits down on a bench against the wall. ThePolicemanstands stolidly beside him. TheAmericanapproaches a step or two, beckoning; theOfficialgoes up to him.]
American. Guess you've got an angel from heaven there! What's the gentleman in buttons for?
Official. Was ist das?
American. Is there anybody here that can understand Amurrican?
Official. Verstehe nicht.
American. Well, just watch my gestures. I was saying [he points to theLittle Man, then makes gestures of flying], you have an angel from heaven there. You have there a man in whom Gawd [he points upward] takes quite an amount of stock. This is a vurry precious man. You have no call to arrest him [he makes the gesture of arrest]. No, sir. Providence has acted pretty mean, loading off that baby on him [he makes the motion of dandling]. The little man has a heart of gold. [He points to his heart, and takes out a gold coin.]
Official[thinking he is about to be bribed]. Aber, das istzuviel!
American. Now, don't rattle me! [Pointing to theLittle Man.] Man [pointing to his heart] Herz [pointing to the coin] von Gold. This is a flower of the field—he don't want no gentleman in buttons to pluck him up. [A little crowd is gathering, including the twoEnglish,theGerman,and theDutch Youth.]
Official. Verstehe absolut nichts. [He taps the telegram.] Ich muss mein duty do.
American. But I'm telling you. This is a good man. This is probably the best man on Gawd's airth.
Official. Das macht nichts—gut or no gut, I muss mein duty do. [He turns to go toward theLittle Man.]
American. Oh! Vurry well, arrest him; do your duty. This baby has typhus. [At the word "typhus" theOfficialstops.]
American[making gestures]. First-class typhus, black typhus, schwarzen typhus. Now you have it. I'm kind o' sorry for you and the gentleman in buttons. Do your duty!
Official. Typhus? Der Bub'—die baby hat typhus?
American. I'm telling you.
Official. Gott im Himmel!
American[spotting theGermanin the little throng]. Here's a gentleman will corroborate me.
Official[much disturbed, and signing to thePolicemanto stand clear]. Typhus! Aber das ist grässlich!
American. I kind o' thought you'd feel like that.
Official. Die Sanitätsmachine! Gleich! [APortergoes to get it. From either side the broken half-moon of persons stand gazing at theLittle Man,who sits unhappily dandling theBabyin the center.]
Official[raising his hands]. Was zu thun?
American. Guess you'd better isolate the baby. [A silence, during which theLittle Manis heard faintly whistling and clucking to theBaby.]
Official[referring once more to his telegram]. 'Rest gentleman mit black baby. [Shaking his head.] Wir must de gentleman hold. [To theGerman.] Bitte, mein Herr, sagen Sie ihm, den Buben zu niedersetzen. [He makes the gesture of deposit.]
German[to theLittle Man]. He say: Put down thebaby. [TheLittle Manshakes his head, and continues to dandle theBaby.]
Official. Sie müssen—you must. [TheLittle Manglowers, in silence.]
Englishman[in background—muttering]. Good man!
German. His spirit ever denies; er will nicht.
Official[again making his gesture]. Aber er muss! [TheLittle Manmakes a face at him.] Sag' ihm: Instantly put down baby, and komm' mit us. [TheBabywails.]
Little Man. Leave the poor ill baby here alone? Be-be-be-d—d first!
American[jumping onto a trunk—with enthusiasm]. Bully! [TheEnglishclap their hands; theDutch Youthlaughs. TheOfficialis muttering, greatly incensed.]
American. What does that body-snatcher say?
German. He say this man use the baby to save himself from arrest. Very smart—he say.
American. I judge you do him an injustice. [Showing off theLittle Manwith a sweep of his arm.] This is a vurry white man. He's got a black baby, and he won't leave it in the lurch. Guess we would all act noble, that way, give us the chance. [TheLittle Manrises, holding out theBaby,and advances a step or two. The half-moon at once gives, increasing its size; theAmericanclimbs onto a higher trunk. TheLittle Manretires and again sits down.]
American[addressing theOfficial]. Guess you'd better go out of business and wait for the mother.
Official[stamping his foot]. Die Mutter sall 'rested be for taking out baby mit typhus. Ha! [To theLittle Man.] Put ze baby down! [TheLittle Mansmiles.] Do you 'ear?
American[addressing theOfficial]. Now, see here. 'Pears to me you don't suspicion just how beautiful this is. Here we have a man giving his life for that old baby that's got no claim on him. This is not a baby of his own making. No, sir, this a vurry Christ-like proposition in the gentleman.
Official. Put ze baby down, or ich will gommand someone it to do.
American. That will be vurry interesting to watch.
Official[toPoliceman]. Nehmen Sie den Buben. Dake it vrom him. [ThePolicemanmutters, but does not.]
American[to theGerman]. Guess I lost that.
German. He say he is not his officer.
American. That just tickles me to death.
Official[looking round]. Vill nobody dake ze Bub'?
Englishwoman[moving a step—faintly]. Yes—I—
Englishman[grasping her arm]. By Jove! Will you!
Official[gathering himself for a great effort to take theBaby,and advancing two steps]. Zen I gommand you—[He stops and his voice dies away.] Zit dere!
American. My! That's wonderful. What a man this is! What a sublime sense of duty! [TheDutch Youthlaughs. TheOfficialturns on him, but as he does so theMotherof theBabyis seen hurrying.]
Mother. Ach! Ach! Mei' Bubi! [Her face is illumined; she is about to rush to theLittle Man.]
Official[to thePoliceman]. Nimm die Frau! [ThePolicemancatches hold of theWoman.]
Official[to the frightenedWoman]. Warum haben Sie einen Buben mit Typhus mit ausgebracht?
American[eagerly, from his perch]. What was that? I don't want to miss any.
German. He say: Why did you a baby with typhus with you bring out?
American. Well, that's quite a question. [He takes out the field-glasses slung around him and adjusts them on theBaby.]
Mother[bewildered], Mei' Bubi—Typhus—aber Typhus? [She shakes her head violently.] Nein, nein, nein! Typhus!
Official. Er hat Typhus.
Mother[shaking her head]. Nein, nein, nein!
American[looking through his glasses]. Guess she's kind of right! I judge the typhus is where the baby's slobbered on the shawl, and it's come off on him. [TheDutch Youthlaughs.]
Official[turning on him furiously]. Er hat Typhus.
American. Now, that's where you slop over. Come right here. [TheOfficialmounts, and looks through the glasses.]
American[to theLittle Man]. Skin out the baby's leg. If we don't locate spots on that, it'll be good enough for me. [TheLittle Manfumbles out theBaby'slittle white foot.]
Mother. Mei' Bubi! [She tries to break away.]
American. White as a banana. [To theOfficial—affably.] Guess you've made kind of a fool of us with your old typhus.
Official. Lass die Frau! [ThePolicemanlets her go, and she rushes to herBaby.]
Mother. Mei' Bubi! [TheBaby,exchanging the warmth of theLittle Manfor the momentary chill of itsMother,wails.]
Official[descending and beckoning to thePoliceman]. Sie wollen den Herrn accusiren? [ThePolicemantakes theLittle Man'sarm.]
American. What's that? They goin' to pinch him after all? [TheMother,still hugging herBaby,who has stopped crying, gazes at theLittle Man,who sits dazedly looking up. Suddenly she drops on her knees, and with her free hand lifts his booted foot and kisses it.]
American[waving his hat]. 'Ra! 'Ra! [He descends swiftly, goes up to theLittle Man,whose arm thePolicemanhas dropped, and takes his hand.] Brother, I am proud to know you. This is one of the greatest moments I have ever experienced. [Displaying theLittle Manto the assembled company.] I think I sense the situation when I say that we all esteem it an honor to breathe the rather inferior atmosphere of this station here along with our little friend. I guess we shall all go home and treasure the memory of his face as the whitest thing in our museum of recollections. And perhaps this good woman will also go home and wash the face of our little brother here. I am inspired with a new faith in mankind. We can all be proud of this mutual experience; we have our share in it; we can kind of feel noble. Ladies and gentlemen, I wish to present to you a sure-enough saint—only wants a halo, to be transfigured. [To theLittle Man.] Stand right up. [TheLittle Manstands up bewildered. They come about him. TheOfficialbows to him, thePolicemansalutes him. TheDutch Youthshakes his head and laughs. TheGermandraws himself up very straight, and bows quickly twice. TheEnglishmanand his wife approach at least two steps, then, thinking better of it, turn to each other and recede. TheMotherkisses his hand. ThePorterreturning with the Sanitätsmachine, turns it on from behind, and its pinkish shower, goldened by a ray of sunlight, falls around theLittleMan'shead, transfiguring it as he stands with eyes upraised to see whence the portent comes.]
American[rushing forward and dropping on his knees]. Hold on just a minute! Guess I'll take a snap-shot of the miracle. [He adjusts his pocket camera.] This ought to look bully!
[THE CURTAIN.]
[1]See, however, Clayton Hamilton,Studies in Stagecraft, New York, 1914, and B. Roland Lewis,The Technique of the One-Act Play, Boston, 1918.
[2]Clayton Hamilton,Studies in Stagecraft, New York, 1914, pp. 254-255.
[3]The Elizabethan platform stage survived until then in the shape of the long "apron," projecting in front of the proscenium. The characters were constantly stepping out of the frame of the picture; and while this visual convention maintained itself, there was nothing inconsistent or jarring in the auditory convention of the soliloquy. See William Archer,Play-Making, Boston, 1912, pp. 397-405.
[4]Clayton Hamilton,The Non-Commercial Drama.The Bookman, May, 1915.
[5]Percy MacKaye,The Playhouse and the Play, New York, 1909, p. 86.
[6]Quoted by Percy MacKaye inThe Civic Theatre, New York, 1912, p. 114.
[7]P. P. Howe,The Repertory Theatre, New York, 1911, p. 59.
[8]A. E. F. Horniman,The Manchester Players,Poet Lore, Vol. XXV, No. 3, p. 212; p. 213.
[9]The kind of co-operation to which he looked forward is beginning. For instance, the New York Drama League announces a Little Theatre membership. "Its purpose is to serve the needs of the large and constantly growing public that is interested in the activities of the semi-professional and amateur community groups who read or produce plays. Under this new Membership there will be issued monthly, for ten issues a Play List of five pages, giving a concise but complete synopsis of new plays, both one-act and longer plays. It will show the number of characters required; the kind of audience to which the play would be likely to appeal; the royalty asked for production rights; the production necessities and other information of value to production groups or individuals. One page will be devoted to three or four standard older plays treated with the same detail of information. The Little Theatre Supplement ... will continue to be issued each month, but will hereafter be a feature of the Little Theatre Membership only. It will contain the programs of the Little Theatres throughout the country; short accounts of what is going on among the various groups, and articles on Little Theatre problems, with hints on new, effective and economical methods of production."
[10]Lady Gregory,Our Irish Theatre, New York, 1913, p. 101.
[11]Robert Edmond Jones,The Future Decorative Art of the Theatre,Theatre Magazine, Vol. XXV, May, 1917, p. 266.
[12]Robert Edmond Jones himself has suggested the phrasing of these descriptions.
[13]See p.xxxiii.
[14]Sheldon Cheney,The Art Theatre, New York, 1917, pp. 167-168.
[15]For a description of modern lighting equipment for a Little Theatre compare the section on the Theatre in the School in this introduction.
[16]Clayton Hamilton,Seen on the Stage, New York, 1920, p. 239.
[17]Robert Emmons Rogers, President of the Boston Drama League and Assistant Professor, specializing in modern literature and drama in the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, was born in Haddonfield, New Jersey, in 1888. He writes that his Anne Hathaway "was a particularly wild idealization based on Miss Adams as Peter Pan," and that even at eighteen he knew that his portrait of the girl, who was to be Shakespeare's wife, was not historically correct. Permission to perform the play must be secured from the author.
[18]George Pierce Baker,Dramatic Technique, Boston and New York, 1919, p. 47.
[19]B. Roland Lewis,The Technique of the One-Act Play, Boston, 1918, p. 211.
[20]Further interesting information on the reading and the study of modern plays in the schools may be found in the valuable article by F. G. Thompkins of the Central High School, Detroit, calledThe Play Course in High School, inThe English Journalfor November, 1920, and in the same issue, in the list of plays produced by St. Louis High Schools, prepared by Clarence Stratton, Chairman, National Council Committee on Plays.
[21]There is a comprehensive list of books published by the Public Library of New York that is an indispensable guide to amateurs interested in Little Theatres and play production and in matters connected with lighting, scenery, costumes, and theatre building; it is W. B. Gamble,The Development of Scenic Art and Stage Machinery, New York, 1920. Cf. also the articles of Irving Pichel that have appeared from time to time inThe Theatre Arts Magazine. The three following books are especially valuable for school theatres: Barrett H. Clark,How to Produce Amateur Plays, Boston, 1917; Constance D'Arcy Mackay,Costumes and Scenery for Amateurs.A Practical Working Handbook, New York, 1915 (the illustrations are especially valuable); and Evelyn Hilliard, Theodora McCormick, Kate Oglebay,Amateur and Educational Dramatics, New York, 1917.
[22]For the explanation of this and kindred technical terms, see Arthur Edwin Krows,Play Production in America, New York, 1916.
Cf. Maurice Browne,The Temple of a Living Art.The Drama, Chicago, 1913, No. 12, p. 168: "Nor is this just a question of stage jargon; that man or woman who would establish an Art Theatre that is an Art Theatre and not a pet rabbit fed by hand, must be able to design it, to ventilate it, to decorate it, to equip its stage, to light it (and to handle its lighting himself, or his electricians will not listen to him), to plan his costumes and scenery, aye, and at a shift, to make them with his own hand."
[23]Copyright, 1912, by Harper and Brothers. Copyright in Great Britain. All acting rights both amateur and professional reserved by the author.
[24]For a bibliography of his works through the year 1913, see Asa Don Dickinson,Booth Tarkington, a Gentleman from Indiana, Garden City, no date.
[25]Robert Cortes Holliday,Booth Tarkington, Garden City and New York, 1918, pp. 155-156; p. 157.
[26]Yeats has commemorated this club in the following lines in his poem,The Grey Rock:
"Poets with whom I learned my trade,Companions of the Cheshire Cheese."
[27]Constance D'Arcy Mackay,The Little Theatre in the United States, New York, 1917, p. 97.
[28]Copyright, Feb. 1, 1913, in the United States by Oliphant Down. Reprinted by special arrangement with Gowans & Gray, Ltd., Glasgow.
Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that this play is fully copyrighted under the existing laws of the United States, and no one is allowed to produce this play without first having obtained permission of Samuel French, 28 West 38 Street, New York.
[29]Maurice Sand,The History of the Harlequinade, London, 1915, Vol. I, p. 219.
[30]Mon Ami Pierrot.Songs and Fantasies, compiled by Kendall Banning, Chicago, 1917. This book presents the Pierrot of modern poetry and drama.
[31]Copyright, 1912, 1921, by Percy MacKaye. All rights reserved.
SPECIAL NOTICE
This play in its printed form is designed for the reading public only. All dramatic rights in it are fully protected by copyright, in the United States, Great Britain, and all countries subscribing to the Berne Convention. NO PUBLIC OR PRIVATE PERFORMANCE—PROFESSIONAL OR AMATEUR—MAY BE GIVEN WITHOUT THE WRITTEN PERMISSION OF THE AUTHOR AND THE PAYMENT OF ROYALTY. As the courts have also ruled that the PUBLIC READING of a play, for pay or where tickets are sold, constitutes a "PERFORMANCE," no such reading may be given except under conditions above stated.
Anyone disregarding the author's rights renders himself liable to prosecution. PERSONS WHO DESIRE PERMISSION TO GIVE PERFORMANCES OR PUBLIC READINGS OF THIS PLAY SHOULD COMMUNICATE DIRECT WITH THE AUTHOR, AT HIS ADDRESS, HARVARD CLUB, 27 WEST 44 STREET, NEW YORK CITY.
[32]A list of his works is given in the latestWho's Who in America.
[33]A suggestion for the appropriate arrangement of these mounds may be found in the map of the battle-field annexed to the volume by Capt. R. K. Beecham, entitledGettysburg, A. C. McClurg, 1911.
[34]Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that this play is fully copyrighted under the existing laws of the United States, and no one is allowed to produce this play without first having obtained permission of Samuel French, 28 West 28 Street, New York.
[35]Copyright, 1918, by Gowans and Gray. All rights reserved. Reprinted by permission of and by special arrangement with Harold Brighouse. Also printed in the United States by Leroy Phillips, Boston.Maid of Franceis fully protected by copyright. It must not be performed by either amateurs or professionals, without written permission. For such permission apply to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38 Street, New York City.
[36]Harold Brighouse,Three Lancashire Plays, London and New York, 1920. There is a bibliographical note at the end.
[37]Copyright, in United States, 1909, by Augusta Gregory. Reprinted by permission of G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York and London.
This play has been copyrighted and published simultaneously in the United States and Great Britain.
All rights reserved, including that of translation into foreign languages.
All acting rights, both professional and amateur, are reserved in the United States, Great Britain, and all countries of the Copyright Union, by the author. Performances forbidden and right of presentation reserved.
Application for the right of performing this play or reading it in public should be made to Samuel French, 28 West 38 St., New York City.
[38]Copyright, 1912, 1916, 1917, by Jeannette Marks. The professional and amateur stage rights of this play are strictly reserved by the author. Application for permission to produce the play should be made to the author, who may be addressed in care of the publishers, Little, Brown and Company, Boston. All rights reserved.
[39]PRONUNCIATION OF WELSH NAMES
Note:The author will gladly answer questions about pronunciation, costuming, etc., etc.
[40]Thea's are broad throughout, i. e., Kats is pronounced Kaats; Vavasour is Vavasoor:ouis oo.
[41]Copyright, 1916, by L. E. Bassett. Reprinted by special arrangement with John W. Luce & Company, Boston. Acting rights in the hands of Samuel French, 28 West 38 Street, New York.
[42]For a list of Synge's other plays, see E. A. Boyd,The Contemporary Drama of Ireland, Boston, 1917.
[43]B. N. Hedderman,Glimpses of My Life in Aran, Bristol, 1917.
[44]J. B. Yeats,Life in the West of Ireland, Dublin and London, 1912. The color prints and line drawings in this book are very beautiful. Cf. also J. M. Synge,The Aran Islands. With drawings by Jack B. Yeats, Dublin and London, 1907.]
[45]Copyright, 1916, by The Sunwise Turn, Inc. All rights reserved. The professional and amateur stage rights on this play are strictly reserved by the author. Applications for permission to produce the Play should be made to The Neighborhood Playhouse, 466 Grand Street, New York.
Any infringement of the author's rights will be punished by the penalties imposed under the United States Revised Statutes, Title 60, Chapter 3.
[46]For bibliography see E. A. Boyd,The Contemporary Drama of Ireland, Boston, 1917.
[47]Clayton Hamilton,Seen on the Stage, New York, 1920, p. 238; p. 239.
[48]Copyright, 1921, by Stark Young. Acting rights, amateur and professional, must be secured from the author, care of the New York Drama League, 7 East 42 Street, New York.
[49]Maurice F. Egan,Everybody's St. Francis, with pictures by M. Boutet de Monvel, New York, 1912.
[50]Reprinted by special arrangement with Gowans & Gray. Ltd., Glasgow. The acting rights are reserved.