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Title: Daddy Long-Legs
A comedy in four acts
Author: Jean Webster
Release date: April 14, 2025 [eBook #75857]
Language: English
Original publication: New York: Samuel French, 1914
Credits: Susan E., Chris Hapka and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DADDY LONG-LEGS ***
DADDY LONG-LEGS
By JEAN WEBSTER
FRENCH’S STANDARD LIBRARY EDITION
SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th St., New York
------------------------------------------------------------------------
BILLETED.
A comedy in 3 acts, by F. Tennison Jesse and H. Harwood. 4 males, 5
females. One easy interior scene. A charming comedy, constructed with
uncommon skill, and abounds with clever lines. Margaret Anglin’s big
success. Amateurs will find this comedy easy to produce and popular with
all audiences. Price, 60 Cents.
NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH.
A comedy in 3 acts. By James Montgomery. 5 males, 6 females. Costumes,
modern. Two interior scenes. Plays 2½ hours.
Is it possible to tell the absolute truth—even for twenty-four hours? It
is—at least Bob Bennett, the hero of “Nothing But the Truth,”
accomplished the feat. The bet he made with his business partners, and
the trouble he got into—with his partners, his friends, and his
fiancée—this is the subject of William Collier’s tremendous comedy hit.
“Nothing But the Truth” can be wholeheartedly recommended as one of the
most sprightly, amusing and popular comedies that this country can
boast. Price, 60 Cents.
IN WALKED JIMMY.
A comedy in 4 acts, by Minnie Z. Jaffa. 10 males, 2 females (although
any number of males and females may be used as clerks, etc.). Two
interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Plays 2½ hours. The thing into
which Jimmy walked was a broken-down shoe factory, when the clerks had
all been fired, and when the proprietor was in serious contemplation of
suicide.
Jimmy, nothing else but plain Jimmy, would have been a mysterious figure
had it not been for his matter-of-fact manner, his smile and his
everlasting humanness. He put the shoe business on its feet, won the
heart of the girl clerk, saved her erring brother from jail, escaped
that place as a permanent boarding house himself, and foiled the
villain.
Clean, wholesome comedy with just a touch of human nature, just a dash
of excitement and more than a little bit of true philosophy make “In
Walked Jimmy” one of the most delightful of plays. Jimmy is full of the
religion of life, the religion of happiness, and the religion of
helpfulness, and he so permeates the atmosphere with his “religion” that
everyone is happy. The spirit of optimism, good cheer, and hearty
laughter dominates the play. There is not a dull moment in any of the
four acts. We strongly recommend it. Price, 60 Cents.
MARTHA BY-THE-DAY.
An optimistic comedy in three acts, by Julie M. Lippmann, author of the
“Martha” stories. 5 males, 5 females. Three interior scenes. Costumes
modern. Plays 2½ hours.
It is altogether a gentle thing, this play. It is full of quaint humor,
old-fashioned, homely sentiment, the kind that people who see the play
will recall and chuckle over to-morrow and the next day.
Miss Lippmann has herself adapted her very successful book for stage
service, and in doing this has selected from her novel the most telling
incidents, infectious comedy and homely sentiment for the play, and the
result is thoroughly delightful. Price, 60 Cents.
(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced)
---------------------------------------------------------
SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City
New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request
------------------------------------------------------------------------
DADDY LONG-LEGS
A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS
BY
JEAN WEBSTER
_All Rights Reserved_
CAUTION.—Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that “DADDY
LONG-LEGS,” being fully protected under the copyright laws of the
United States, Great Britain and Canada, is subject to a royalty,
and anyone presenting the play without the consent of the owners or
their authorized agents will be liable to the penalties by law
provided. Application for amateur acting rights must be made to
SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York. Applications for
professional acting rights must be made to Henry Miller, Henry
Miller Theatre, 124 West 43d Street, New York City.
NEW YORK │ LONDON
SAMUEL FRENCH │ SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD.
PUBLISHER │ 26 SOUTHAMPTON STREET
28-30 WEST 38TH STREET │ STRAND
------------------------------------------------------------------------
COPYRIGHT, 1912 (IN NOVEL FORM), BY THE CENTURY CO.
COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY JEAN WEBSTER
COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY SAMUEL FRENCH
Especial notice should be taken that the possession of this book without
a valid contract for production first having been obtained from the
publisher, confers no right or license to professionals or amateurs to
produce the play publicly or in private for gain or charity.
In its present form this play is dedicated to the reading public only,
and no performance, representation, production, recitation, or public
reading may be given except by special arrangement with Samuel French,
28-30 West 38th Street, New York.
This play may be presented by amateurs upon payment of a royalty of
Twenty-Five Dollars for each performance, payable to Samuel French,
28-30 West 38th Street, New York, one week before the date when the play
is given.
Whenever the play is produced the following notice must appear on all
programs, printing and advertising for the play: “Produced by special
arrangement with Samuel French of New York.”
Attention is called to the penalty provided by law for any infringement
of the author’s rights, as follows:
“SECTION 4966:—Any person publicly performing or representing any
dramatic or musical composition for which copyright has been obtained,
without the consent of the proprietor of said dramatic or musical
compositions, or his heirs and assigns, shall be liable for damages
thereof, such damages, in all cases to be assessed at such sum, not less
than one hundred dollars for the first and fifty dollars for every
subsequent performance, as to the court shall appear to be just. If the
unlawful performance and representation be wilful and for profit, such
person or persons shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction
shall be imprisoned for a period not exceeding one year.”—U. S. Revised
Statutes: Title 60, Chap. 3.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
CHARACTERS
JERVIS PENDLETON
JAMES MCBRIDE
CYRUS WYKOFF
ABNER PARSONS
GRIGGS
WALTERS
JUDY
MISS PRITCHARD
MRS. PENDLETON
JULIA PENDLETON
SALLIE MCBRIDE
MRS. SEMPLE
MRS. LIPPETT
SADIE KATE }
GLADIOLA }
LORETTA } ORPHAN CHILDREN
MAMIE } AT THE JOHN
FREDDIE PERKINS } GRIER HOME
CARRIE }
------------------------------------------------------------------------
SYNOPSIS OF SCENES
ACT I
The dining-room of the John Grier Home on Trustees’ Day.
ACT II
Judy’s college study, an afternoon in May, one year later.
ACT III
The sitting-room at Lock Willow farm, summer, three years later.
ACT IV
Mr. Pendleton’s library, two months later.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
DADDY LONG-LEGS
ACT I
_SCENE: The dining-room of the John Grier Home on Trustees’ Day. A plan
and full description of the scene will be found at the end of the
play._
_DISCOVERED: At Rise, Two Orphans are seated down stage at table L. of
C. SADIE KATE R. of table and LORETTA on the stool below table,
engaged in cleaning silver. GLADIOLA is up stage behind upper table
R. polishing a cup. After the curtain is well up, GLADIOLA mounts on
chair before cupboard to place cup in cupboard and FREDDIE PERKINS
enters at lower R. I._
_They are dressed exactly alike in stiffly starched gingham
pinafores (blue) with a row of white china buttons down the back and
a suggestion of red flannel petticoat showing beneath. Each child
has her hair strained back tightly and braided into two pig-tails.
They sit nervously and work steadily and silently with no attempt at
childish chatter. Freddie Perkins is about nine years old and is
dressed in dark knickerbockers and a jumper made of the same striped
blue gingham that the girls are wearing. His hair is shaved close to
his head._
_He carries a rolled-up rag rug over his shoulders, and as he
passes, he purposely knocks against SADIE KATE. She hits back
viciously and proceeds with her work. Freddie up and exits C. and L.
2 and 4 talking, 2 wipes 4’s nose._
_GLADIOLA on chair at back, in wiping a cup lets it slip from her
hands and crash to the floor. She backs against the table C. and
stands horrified, staring at the pieces._
_LIGHTS begin to dim shortly after rise._
GLADIOLA. It’s one o’ them best cups!
SADIE KATE. Oh my goodness! You’ll get it!
GLADIOLA. What’ll I do?
SADIE KATE. Hide it, quick!
MRS. LIPPETT. (_Off stage_) Get out of my way!
LORETTA. She’s coming! Oh, she’s coming!
SADIE KATE. (_To GLADIOLA, snatching up one of the cups and leaning
over, rolling it along the floor to GLADIOLA_) Say ye knocked this off
wid yer elbow.
(_They resume their work in stolid silence. GLADIOLA gets down on her
knees and hands and places the broken pieces under table-legs at R. of
C. then stands behind table as MRS. LIPPETT enters from the pantry.
She is a hard-faced, domineering woman of about forty with an
unpleasant voice that grows shrill when she loses her temper. She is
wearing a polka-dotted silk dress, very tight and rather fussily made
with a profusion of cheap lace trimmings. It is turned up from the
bottom and pinned so that she will not soil it._)
MRS. LIPPETT. (_Holds entrance until GLADIOLA is up_) What was that
noise? (_Stands inside U. R._)
GLADIOLA. I knocked this off with my elbow, ma’am.
MRS. L. (_Crossing to C._) I thought you’d broken something! Come, come.
Sadie Kate! Are you going to be all day at this? (_Picks up spoons,
examines them critically, hands one back_) Polish that again! (_Crosses
to table R., looking over preparations_) Oh, good heavens, the
sandwiches aren’t made! Where’s Judy Abbott? She ought to be here to
look after things!
SADIE KATE. She’s up in the nursery, ma’am, trying to keep the babies
quiet so they won’t disturb the trustees.
MRS. L. Well, you go up and tell her to come down immediately. I never
knew anyone like that girl. She’s always somewhere else. (_SADIE KATE
rises and MRS. L. turns to her sharply_) Hurry up! Don’t stand there
staring! (_Pushes SADIE KATE, who exits R. I. Exit 2 and 4. As GLADIOLA
brings down spoon to table, lower R. MRS. LIPPETT is looking over the
dishes_) Why, we’re one cup short. I thought I got down enough!
(_GLADIOLA, in fear, starts to tiptoe off to R. I. Stopping abruptly as
MRS. L. calls her name_) Gladiola Murphy! Come here! (_GLADIOLA
approaches her apprehensively_) You stand on that chair and get down
another one of those best cups.
GLADIOLA. (_Going up, gleefully_) Yes, ma’am!
MRS. L. And mind you don’t drop it!
GLADIOLA. No, ma’am. (_Up to cupboard for a cup._)
MRS. L. (_Looks thoughtfully over tray to see what is missing_) Napkins.
(_Bustles off R. and exits R. 2 E. As she is going off FREDDIE enters at
C. Seeing MRS. LIPPETT going off he throws a kiss after her. Looking
around and seeing that he is unobserved, he goes down to table R. to
sugar bowl. Putting his hand in he pulls out a fist full and stuffs it
into his mouth. Puts his hand in again, gets another fistful and stuffs
it into his pocket. As he puts his hand in again SADIE KATE enters R. I.
and catches him. She crosses in between tables to R. of FREDDIE._)
SADIE KATE. Freddie Perkins, you let that sugar alone! (_FREDDIE makes a
face at her_) I’ll tell Mrs. Lippett!
(_GLADIOLA turns and comes down R. of FREDDIE, putting cup on tray._)
FREDDIE. I dare you to!
GLADIOLA. Freddie Perkins, you just put that sugar back. I’ll tell Mrs.
Lippett.
FREDDIE. I dare you to! (_SADIE KATE crosses over L._)
ANOTHER CHILD. She’ll say I did it. (_Both GLADIOLA and SADIE KATE push
and shove FREDDIE._)
FREDDIE. All right, keep your hair on. I’ll put it back.
GLADIOLA. You’d better, you’d better, you fresh thing!
(_SADIE KATE returns to her task at L. table and GLADIOLA goes back to
cupboard on chair, back to audience. FREDDIE looks around and seeing
that they are not watching him, goes down to sugar bowl again and
seeing the salt cellar, smiles and takes it up and begins to pour the
salt into the sugar-bowl._)
[Illustration: The girls sit at the table, their backs turned, as
Freddie pours salt into the sugar bowl.]
FREDDIE. I’m putting it back! (_Continues to pour salt until he hears
MRS. LIPPETT speaking off stage._)
MRS. L. (_Off-stage_) Why, you good for nothing child, keep out from
under my feet!
FREDDIE. (_Puts down sugar-bowl and salt cellar and runs off C. and L.
exclaiming_) All right, I put it back!
(_One child to cupboard, other child down and around to bench L., sits
on floor. MRS. LIPPETT enters with napkins and dish of sliced lemons,
crosses and sets them on the tray on table R._)
MRS. L. Hasn’t Judy Abbott come down yet?
SADIE KATE. No ma’am!
(_GLADIOLA comes down with a cup which she places on tray L. of MRS.
L._)
MRS. L. Oh, for the land’s sake! (_Picking up sugar bowl, looks in, is
about to set it down when she catches sight of the mark of grimy
fingers_) Gladiola Murphy! Aren’t you ashamed? That’s a pretty looking
sugar bowl to send up to the trustees. You take it into the pantry and
wash it. (_She gives the bowl to GLADIOLA, faces her toward the pantry
and starts her with a shove. Examines a flamboyant watch that is pinned
to her waist._) Half past four! It’s time to make the tea. (_Goes up and
turns on lamp R. of C. arch_) Where _is_ that Abbott girl? She’s enough
to try the patience of a saint! (_Turns up lamp L. of arch C. foots come
up 3-4 full. Her back is turned as JUDY enters at R._)
(_JUDY is a vividly alive young girl of 18, dressed in the same blue
gingham that the others wear, but made in a more becoming manner.
There is a suggestion of challenge in her manner. There is an air of
all-conquering youth. Neither MRS. LIPPETT’S harshness nor the sordid
air of the asylum has succeeded in cowing her. She crosses to R. of C.
and stands, looking speculatively at MRS. LIPPETT’S back. Two children
at cupboard up to pantry._)
JUDY. (_Crosses to R. C. sweetly_) Do you want me to help, Mrs. Lippett?
MRS. L. (_Turning quickly_) Well, Miss Jerusha Abbott! It’s about time
you turned up! You are the only lady of leisure in this institution
to-day. (_Comes down C._)
JUDY. I’m sorry. The nurse had to look after the sick babies and we
couldn’t leave the others alone.
MRS. L. You always have plenty of excuses.
JUDY. That new little red-headed child has licked all the green paint
off the Noah’s Ark—
MRS. L. And what do you think I was doing? Cutting the cake with one
hand and receiving the guests with the other?
JUDY. That red-headed child has swallowed some green paint—
MRS. L. I don’t care what that red-headed child has swallowed. I’m more
interested in what the trustees are going to swallow.
JUDY. (_Speaking very hurriedly_) That red-headed child has licked the
green paint off the roof of the Noah’s Ark, and I think you’d better
send for the doctor.
MRS. L. Will you stop talking and get to work?
JUDY. (_Going R._) It was _green_ and I’m afraid it will disagree with
him.
MRS. L. You get those tea things ready.
JUDY. (_Going U. R. to pantry_) Green paint’s made of arsenic. It’s
poison. I learned that in chemistry.
MRS. L. You’ve learned altogether too much! You were a great deal more
useful before you got that education! (_Goes back to children at L._)
JUDY. (_At pantry U. R. C. with a gleam of mischief_) Mrs. Lippett⸺
MRS. L. (_Over her shoulder_) Well?
JUDY. Did you put those two guinea pigs into the babies’ bath tub?
MRS. L. (_Whirling about_) Guinea pigs!
JUDY. I think they’re guinea pigs. Little brown and white animals ...
about so big.
MRS. L. Oh, good heavens! Those horrible boys!—What did you do with the
beasts?
JUDY. I didn’t touch them. I thought—
MRS. L. (_Crossing to table R._) Quick! Get them away before the
trustees find them.
JUDY. (_Coming down R._) I thought maybe that generous new trustee you
were telling us about brought them as a present for the babies.
MRS. L. And you thought I was planning to keep them in the nursery
bathtub?
JUDY. It’s so seldom used! (_Exits R. I. E. GLADIOLA down to R. of MRS.
L. Other girl to cupboard_)
MRS. L. (_Turns back muttering angrily_) Guinea pigs! (_GLADIOLA comes
down from the pantry with sugar bowl she has cleaned and puts it on
tray_) If I had my way the whole race of boys would be swept off the
face of the earth. (_SADIE KATE and LORETTA titter, then hastily repress
themselves_) Yes—and girls too! (_Little girl laughs_) That’s enough!
Clean up this mess. They’re likely to come in here. (_GLADIOLA lingers
near MRS. LIPPETT who slaps and drives her away. LORETTA rises and takes
pan and wash material across R. and up into pantry_) I suppose they’ll
be snooping all over the place. (_SADIE KATE brings spoons and places
them on tea tray in front of MRS. LIPPETT, who slaps her. SADIE KATE
crosses over R. to GLADIOLA. LORETTA comes down from pantry and joins
them_) These visiting days are enough to make a person sick. (_The
orphans stand waiting for further orders. GLADIOLA is lower R. near
door. LORETTA L. of GLADIOLA and a little above. SADIE KATE L. of
LORETTA and a little above, so they stand in a diagonal line. A buzz of
conversation and laughter heard off C. Little child cries. MRS. LIPPETT
hastily unpins her skirt_) Here they are now! Gladiola, pull up your
stockings. (_GLADIOLA pulls up her stockings_) Loretta, wipe your nose.
(_LORETTA stoops to use her petticoat_) No, no! Not on your skirt.
(_SADIE KATE gives LORETTA handkerchief_) Sadie Kate, brush back your
hair. You, too, stand up straight! (_To all_) If any of the trustees or
lady visitors speak to you, you say “Yes, ma’am”—“No, ma’am” and smile.
ORPHANS. Yes ma’am, no ma’am.
(_MISS PRITCHARD and MR. CYRUS WYKOFF enter C. MISS P. is a charming,
old-fashioned gentlewoman between fifty and sixty, with an air of
kindly sympathy for everyone. MR. WYKOFF, a short, chubby, bald-headed
man, is pompous and dignified, with an exaggerated idea of his own
importance. He wears a brown suit which fits him quite snugly—a pair
of tortoise-rimmed spectacles, and a gold watch chain. MRS. LIPPETT
crosses to C. to receive them._)
MISS PRITCHARD. (_Coming down C._) Well, Mrs. Lippett! We’re here again!
MRS. L. Miss Pritchard! (_They shake hands and MISS PRITCHARD crosses to
R. C. to children. She speaks to 1st child and each child in turn shake
their heads “Yes, ma’am,” “No, ma’am,” as ordered by MRS. L._) Mr.
Wykoff!
WYKOFF. (_L. of MRS. LIPPETT_) How de do, ma’am. Thought we’d look about
a little before refreshments. (_Crosses to L. examining._)
MRS. L. (_Down C._) It’s a pleasure to welcome you. I always look
forward to the first Wednesday of every month.
MISS P. (_Turns to 2nd child_) We have Mr. Jervis Pendleton with us
to-day.
MRS. L. I believe we are indebted to you, Miss Pritchard, for inducing
him to serve.
MISS P. (_Turns to 3rd child_) Yes, he is an old family friend.
WYKOFF. Good thing to get some fancy philanthropists on the board of an
institution like this. Their ideas aren’t always practical but their
checks are.
MISS P. (_Crossing to WYKOFF_) Poor little dears! They’re not like
children. So little spirit!
WYKOFF. (_L. of MISS P._) They are not a very classy lot.
MRS. L. (_R. of MISS P._) It is awful depressing to live with them.
MISS P. And how is my dear Judy Abbott?
MRS. L. A great trial.
WYKOFF. She’s the one we’re educating?
MISS P. (_Nodding_) Her teachers say that she is very brilliant.
MRS. L. Oh, she’s smart enough—I’m not denying that. But impertinent!
MISS P. She’s a spirited girl and needs tact. (_Crosses over to L._)
MRS. L. (_Momentarily forgetting herself_) Tact! She needs a good
thorough whipping. And I’m sorry she’s grown too big to get it.
(_Crosses to R.C._)
WYKOFF. (_Crosses to L. of MRS. L._) That’s the proper spirit, ma’am.
Keep ’em in their places. (_JERVIS and FREDDIE are heard out in hall C.
and L., playing ball. MISS PRITCHARD goes up stage L. and around to C.
to join JERVIS. JERVIS backs on stage laughing and chatting as the ball
passes between him and FREDDIE. At sound of JERVIS’ voice WYKOFF turns
and sees him, and turns back to MRS. LIPPETT_) Mr. Pendleton! (_Crosses
L. to children, MRS. LIPPETT crosses to R. of C. FREDDIE catches sight
of her, and rushes off as JERVIS comes in at C. WYKOFF passes up and
between tables, inspecting everything. MISS PRITCHARD joins JERVIS as
JERVIS comes in and they saunter down stage C._)
(_JERVIS PENDLETON is a man-of-affairs, quiet and self-contained, but
evidently used to having his own way. He has a somewhat grim sense of
humor and an air of nonchalance which in reality covers a keen
penetration. His manners are courteously deferential, but with a
suggestion of indifference underneath, which he just politely manages
to suppress._)
JERVIS. Ah, dear lady! (_MISS PRITCHARD L. of JERVIS._) So this is the
dining room! Charming apartment.
MRS. L. (_Left of C._) I believe I have never had the pleasure of
meeting Mr. Pendleton.
MISS P. (_L. of JERVIS_) Our matron, Mrs. Lippett.
JERVIS. (_Shaking hands_) Very happy to meet you, madam. (_Turns to MISS
P._)
MRS. L. (_C. of table R._) The asylum has a great deal to thank you for.
Your two dear boys are doing so well.
(_The ORPHANS at R. begin to fuss and fidget. LORETTA scratches her
head. GLADIOLA stands on one foot, then on the other, and SADIE KATE
tries to keep both quiet._)
JERVIS. (_Vaguely. Hands in coat pockets_) My two dear boys?
(_WYKOFF off up back, looking around with back turned._)
MRS. L. That you are sending to technical school.
JERVIS. Oh, yes, yes! The young engineers! Doing well, are they? That’s
good. (_Crosses over to children._)
MRS. L. I trust their reports are sent every month as you requested.
JERVIS. Yes, I believe so. (_MISS PRITCHARD up to back and joined by
WYKOFF_) My secretary looks after them. (_Sits on bench, studies
children intently. To the nearest girl_) Come here, little girl, and
shake hands with me. (_They back off_) Oh, don’t be afraid! I won’t
bite. (_JERVIS crosses L. C. in front of LIPPETT._)
MRS. L. (_Behind JERVIS and over his shoulder cautioning children.
Softly_) Oh, children, children dear, this is the kind gentleman who
sent the candy and peanuts and tickets to the circus. Shake hands with
him, darling.
(_LORETTA advances, watching MRS. LIPPETT and offers JERVIS a limp
hand._)
JERVIS. (_Arm around GLADIOLA_) And are you a good little girl?
GLADIOLA. (_Wilting with embarrassment_) Y-yes, ma’am—no, ma’am.
JERVIS (_Rising, his arm about GLADIOLA, crossing over L. C. to MISS
P._) Happy, bubbling, laughing childhood! (_MRS. LIPPETT shooes children
up into pantry and turns on lamp at R._) Nothing so beautiful in the
world!
(_Children exit L. at MRS. L.’S gesture._)
MRS. L. (_Coming to R. C._) It’s a great pleasure to live with them. I
always say that it keeps me young and happy and innocent myself.
JERVIS. (_Picks up cap from L. table. Striking cup with his knuckle, to
MISS P._) Durable!
WYKOFF. (_Coming down C._) Can’t indulge any artistic ideas in a place
like this.
JERVIS. (_Turns around and sees text at back C._) Of course! Of course!
Ah! (_Indicating text_) The Lord will provide! (_To MISS P._) Very
touching!
MRS. L. (R. C.) You wouldn’t want us to bring them up without religion?
JERVIS. (_Deprecating the idea_) No, no. But why not teach them the
truth? The Lord will provide for the rich. The poor must provide for
themselves. (_Turns to MISS P. and sets cup on table._)
WYKOFF. (_C. and R. of JERVIS_) Well, I’m a practical man, Mr.
Pendleton. I don’t know as I follow you in all your new-fangled
philosophy, but I⸺ (_JERVIS turns and faces him._)
JERVIS. Yes⸺
WYKOFF. Er—I’m convinced⸺
JERVIS. Yes—yes⸺
WYKOFF. Er—er—I’m convinced! (_Turns to MRS. L._) Here, here, Mrs.
Lippett, this floor ought to be scrubbed. (_MRS. L. crosses to him and
they go up and out C., WYKOFF complaining about conditions and MRS. L.
excusing them. MRS. L. turns on lamp in hall as she exits._)
(_At cue “This floor ought to be scrubbed,” the children come down from
pantry in single file, and march off R.I.E. JERVIS crosses to R. of C.
watching them, and stirred to pity by their dejected and whipped
manner._)
JERVIS. (R.) Poor little kiddies. (_Turning to MISS P._) There’s nothing
in it.
MISS P. (L.) What do you mean, Jervis?
JERVIS. Why, you can’t bring them up like chickens in batches of a
hundred like chickens in an incubator. It isn’t natural—it won’t work.
MISS P. (_To L. C. Sits R._) Jervis! (_He turns_) I hate to be always
begging. But there’s one of these children for whom I should so love to
manage a future.
JERVIS. (_Good-naturedly_) Another promising engineer?
MISS P. No—this time—it’s a girl.
JERVIS. (_In consternation_) A girl! My dear lady!
MISS P. And such a pretty one!
JERVIS. (_Amazed, crossing over L._) Oh, no! You can’t catch me with
that bait!
MISS P. She’s more than pretty. (_Sits bench R. of table L._)
JERVIS. (_Wearily. Hands in pocket, crosses down R._) I know—she has a
good record and deserves⸺
MISS P. She has the worst record of any child in this Home.
JERVIS. (_Interested_) What!
MISS P. She doesn’t lie out of her misdemeanors as the others do. She is
disobedient and impertinent but⸺
JERVIS. And just what is it you want me to do for this pretty,
disobedient, impertinent young person? (_Up around table R._)
MISS P. I want you—to send her to college.
JERVIS. What? To college? From an orphan asylum? Impossible!
MISS P. She’s eighteen. (_JERVIS faces front_) And ready to graduate
from the High School.
JERVIS. (_Facing MISS P._) So? I thought they never kept them after
fourteen?
MISS P. Judy Abbott was so unusually bright that the Board of Trustees
let her stay on and attend the village school.
JERVIS. Very generous!
MISS P. Of course it saved hiring someone to take care of the younger
children.
JERVIS. Thrifty and generous.
MISS P. And she has done remarkable work in English. Her teachers say
that she would make an author if she had the training.
JERVIS. An author? There are too many authors in the world already.
(_Crosses to her._) I don’t wish to make any more.
MISS P. (_Solemnly_) Suppose she should be a genius? Have you any right
to keep her down?
JERVIS. If she were a genius I couldn’t keep her down. Do you think she
would placidly stand all this? (_With a comprehensive gesture about the
room_) She would rise and mutiny if she had any spirit.
MISS P. But she’s only eighteen, and if you only knew⸺
JERVIS. (_Facing MISS P., stubbornly shaking his head_) We all have the
right to a few prejudices. You know yourself that you won’t eat bananas.
No reason in the world except that you don’t like bananas. Now I have an
antipathy, too, I don’t like girls. Never did like ’em. Never will like
’em.
MISS P. (_Rises. JERVIS walks L. MISS PRITCHARD rises_) You are a
crabbed, ill-natured, hard-shelled, old bachelor, and you don’t know
what you are talking about! You’ve never known any girls.
JERVIS. Never known any? That precious sister-in-law of mine has a
daughter coming on exactly like her.
MISS P. Baby Julia?
JERVIS. (_Turns away_) Baby Julia enters college next September.
MISS P. Think of that!
JERVIS. I might arrange for your impertinent orphan to room with my
aristocratic niece. (_Chuckles at the idea_) That would be rather a neat
joke on the Pendleton family!
MISS P. (_With asperity_) My little Judy deserves a chance for her own
sake.
JERVIS. You damned her chance when you said she was pretty.
MISS P. Why?
_Children READY_
JERVIS. Why? Why, I’d no sooner get her educated than some young
whippersnapper would come along and want to marry her. Education thrown
away. I’d rather put my money into a permanent investment.
MISS P. Do you really mean it, or is it just one of your stupid jokes?
JERVIS. (_Seriously_) I really mean it. How could one of these orphans
compete with the class of girls she would meet in college? (_Crosses
R._)
MISS P. But you haven’t seen my Judy.
JERVIS. No. But I have seen this institution and I know that no child
that was ever born could live eighteen years in the John Grier Home and
have spirit enough left to fight the world. (_Crossing L. C._)
MISS P. But my Judy’s different. Give her a chance.
JERVIS. My dear Miss Pritchard! In college your little Judy wouldn’t
have a chance. Do you think they’d take in an outsider—from an orphan
asylum?
MISS P. It’s not fair.
JERVIS. (_Bitterly_) Nothing’s fair. But it’s a fact. Don’t you see that
it would be no kindness to the girl? We should just be showing her a
glimpse of a bigger, more beautiful life, such as she has never dreamed
of, and then forbidding her to enter. No, no. Society has thrown away
your little Judy—(_Hands in pockets_)—and it’s too late now to pick up
the pieces.
MISS P. (_L.C., crushed_) Yes—but it’s cruel.
JERVIS. (_To MISS P., drawing her hand through his arm_) Well! Well!
Come and let’s have a look at that scandalous dark playroom. (_Going up
C._) Maybe you can induce me to build a new one. (_They go out C. and
L._)
(_As JERVIS and MISS P. exit both ad lib, SADIE KATE pokes her head into
room, R. I., then crosses in front to R. C. and turns to beckon the
others on._)
SADIE KATE. Come on! (_Coming R. C. GLADIOLA, LORETTA and MAMIE enter
R._) Now’s your chance! (_GLADIOLA crosses in front and up to get the
broken cup. SADIE KATE over to C. and up a little._) Take it and dump it
back of the barn!
(_Two other girls go on and in front of table to L., two little girls
stop R., one takes up cup, other stops. Littlest girl enters R. and
gets on bench and embraces JUDY._)
MAMIE. (_R. at end of lower table. LORETTA by R. I. E._) Yes, hurry,
before somebody comes and catches you. (_A sound is heard off R. in
pantry._)
SADIE KATE. Somebody’s coming!
(_GLADIOLA jumps up and the orphans assume a know-nothing attitude until
they see it is JUDY. JUDY enters C. and crosses between tables with
tray of sandwiches, stands between MAMIE and LORETTA down stage and
GLADIOLA up stage. SADIE KATE is on line with JUDY across at C._)
JUDY. Well, Chicks, what’s the matter?
_READY Sammy_
ORPHANS. (_Laughing_) Nothing.
JUDY. (_Cheerfully_) Well, run now, and wash your hands and faces and
make yourselves beautiful, ready to pass the things.
(_The children go up into pantry, SADIE KATE passing at back with
GLADIOLA. JUDY crosses to C. and puts tray on lower end of table L.
Then she goes up to cupboard and gets black box and comes down between
tables at R., opens box on bench behind first table and takes out caps
and aprons. During scene she is humming gaily to herself, “Comin’
through the Rye.” MRS. LIPPETT enters._)
MRS. L. (_Coming down C._) I’m glad to see that somebody’s carefree.
(_JUDY stops her song_) Is everything ready?
JUDY. (_At work smoothing out aprons_) Yes, Mrs. Lippett.
MRS. L. Seems though everything’s gone wrong to-day. And just when we’ve
got a rich trustee up from New York. (_Turning to L. window R._) He’s
out in the play-yard now, talking to Freddie Perkins, with a hole in his
pants that big. (_JUDY laughs_) Well, what are you laughing at? It’s no
laughing matter. Can’t you keep that child mended?
JUDY. I mend Freddie Perkins’ trousers every day of my life. There’s no
trousers left any more. Nothing but patches.
MRS. L. (_L. C., looking over at sandwiches_) Did you make those
sandwiches?
JUDY. Yes, Mrs. Lippett. I know they’re pretty thick. But the bread was
so fresh I couldn’t cut it. I’m awfully sorry.
MRS. L. (_Going up C. Mollified_) Well, maybe they’ll taste all right.
Look sharp now. I don’t want any more hitches. (_Exits C._)
GLADIOLA. (_Poking her head into room_) Judy, has she gone?
JUDY. Yes, and it’s time for you to go! Come, fly into these. (_Led by
GLADIOLA the ORPHANS come down R. GLADIOLA and LORETTA to lower R. and
begin playing. MAMIE and SADIE KATE to R. of JUDY, who gives to each of
them cap and apron she has been straightening out. They are regulation
waitress’ aprons, about three inches longer than the children’s dresses.
The caps are muslin bows fastened to an elastic. MAMIE and SADIE put on
the aprons, JUDY buttoning MAMIE’S and MAMIE buttoning SADIE’S apron.
They fasten behind. While they put on the caps GLADIOLA and LORETTA are
down R. JUDY crosses to L. C., gets tray and sandwiches and gives them
to MAMIE. MAMIE up C. JUDY takes tray of cups at R. C., gives them to
SADIE KATE. SADIE up to MAMIE at C. JUDY to R. C._) Now please be
careful, children, and don’t make any mistakes.
(_The ORPHANS go out C. and L. JUDY, with a tired sigh, comes down front
and sits on bench in front of table R. GLADIOLA kneels on bench beside
her and LORETTA on floor, kneeling. She caresses them in a manner that
shows her loneliness and longing for love._)
GLADIOLA. Judy! Tell us a story.
LORETTA. Cinderella!
GLADIOLA. No! Tell us Noah’s Ark. I’ll be the lion. (_Growls and throws
her arms around JUDY, pretending to devour her._)
JUDY. Not now, dear. Some other time.
BOTH. Yes, now!
JUDY. Poor Judy’s so tired. This is the first time I’ve sat down since 5
o’clock this morning.
LORETTA. Tell it while you are sitting down.
JUDY. I must learn my lesson for school to-morrow.
GLADIOLA. What? ’Rifmatic?
JUDY. No, not ’rifmatic. French.
LORETTA. What’s French?
JUDY. Tu es enfant très bon et je t’aime beaucoup.
(_The children laugh. FREDDY PERKINS enters C. from L. A large
three-cornered rent in the back of his trousers._)
FREDDIE. (C.) When are we going to have supper?
JUDY. (_Good-naturedly, scolding_) Freddie Perkins, turn around, sir!
(_FREDDIE makes turn._)
FREDDIE. What’s the matter? (_Children laugh. FREDDIE turns back to
them._) What are you laughing at? Cut it out! Cut it out!
JUDY. You bad, bad boy, to tear your clothes. (_Discovers a rent in the
shoulder of his shirt_) You disgraceful little rag-a-muffin!
FREDDIE. (_Sits L. of JUDY_) I don’t care, I’m hungry!
GLADIOLA. So’m I.
LORETTA. Me, too.
JUDY. You can’t have supper till the trustees go.
GLADIOLA. I hate trustees.
LORETTA. So do I.
FREDDIE. What’s to-day? Beans? (_Pause_) Or corn meal mush?
LORETTA. This is Wednesday.
GLADIOLA. It’s corn meal mush.
(_The children all join in the ORPHAN’S yell while JUDY frantically
tries to make each child be quiet. The last line tapers off into a
dying wail._)
ORPHANS:
Mush! Mush! Corn meal mush!
Slush! Slush! Same old slush!
How I hate it,
Corn—meal—mush!
JUDY. Hush, you naughty children.
(_FREDDIE sits on floor._)
GLADIOLA. Judy, tell us a story.
JUDY. No, no, no!
GLADIOLA _and_ LORETTA. (_Imitating her_) Yes, yes, yes!
JUDY. (_Pleading_) Children! I’m so tired!
FREDDIE. (_Rising_) Draw us a picture!
JUDY. I’ve no paper!
(_Children run around looking for paper. LORETTA goes around behind
table and discovers box cover. GLADIOLA takes the cover from LORETTA
and brings it to JUDY._)
GLADIOLA. Draw it on this.
(_JUDY looks dubious. Sits as before and LORETTA R. of GLADIOLA to
former position. FREDDIE L. of JUDY._)
JUDY. But I haven’t any pencil!
FREDDIE. (_Turning away disgustedly_) Oh, gee!
JUDY. I can’t draw with my finger, you know.
FREDDIE. (_Discovering piece of chalk in his pocket_) Here’s a piece of
chalk.
JUDY. Very well—Mercy! It’s all over sugar.
FREDDIE. Did I give you sugar? (_Grabs chalk in an attempt to lick the
sugar off. JUDY gets it back._)
JUDY. Oh, you bad, bad boy! (_FREDDIE to C._) Well, what shall I draw?
GLADIOLA. Elephant!
LORETTA. Circus!
FREDDIE. Cowboy chasing Indians! (_Gives imitation of a wild Indian._)
JUDY. Oh, something easy. I’ll draw a bad little boy who’s torn his
clothes.
(_Children begin to laugh at FREDDIE and cry “Shame, shame.”_)
FREDDIE. (_Coming down domineeringly_) Cut it out! Cut it out!
JUDY. Freddie! (_FREDDIE turns away shamefacedly_) What’ll I draw?
GLADIOLA. Oh! Draw a trustee!
LORETTA. Yes, draw a trustee!
FREDDIE. Yes, one of those guys that goes around like this. (_Crosses
over L. and gives imitation of WYKOFF_) “This won’t do, Mrs. Lippett!
This won’t do!” (_Comes back to C._) “And this floor must be scrubbed”
... (_Goes to C._) “I tell you it won’t do, Mrs. Lippett” ... (_Comes
down C. and stands puffing himself out á la Wykoff. The children watch
him in ecstasy, laughing and applauding._)
GLADIOLA. Yes—and make him fat. With a gold watch chain!
FREDDIE. And with a pair of searchlights!
JUDY. (_Drawing_) There’s his body. And there’s his head. (_While
drawing the eye-glasses, FREDDIE begins to laugh. JUDY turns to him_)
What are you laughing at?
FREDDIE. Those searchlights.
JUDY. And there’s his searchlights. And those are his arms and those are
his legs.
LORETTA. (C.) And where’s his gold watch chain?
JUDY. And that’s his watch chain! (_Holds the picture front and they all
laugh._)
[Illustration: The children are gathered around the drawing of the
Trustee]
GLADIOLA. (_Takes picture from JUDY_) It looks exactly like a June bug.
JUDY. (_Takes picture back from GLADIOLA, writing at bottom_) “This
looks like a June bug, but is meant to be a portrait of any trustee.”
(_The children laugh. FREDDIE takes the picture and marches around with
it, followed by GLADIOLA and LORETTA._)
CHORUS. Looks like a June bug! Looks like a June bug!
(_They go over L. as SADIE and MAMIE return with a half-emptied plate of
sandwiches which they place on table._)
SADIE KATE. Gee! You ought to see them eat!
(_JUDY goes up to SADIE KATE and MAMIE. The others stop singing and
hungrily look at the sandwiches. FREDDIE puts the picture on table L.
of C. and crosses over to JUDY, followed by LORETTA and GLADIOLA._)
FREDDIE. Can I have a piece of bread?
GLADIOLA. Me, too!
LORETTA. I’m hungry.
JUDY. (_After a moment’s hesitation_) Yes, you may all have one piece.
(_They help themselves joyously. FREDDIE gets first piece and biggest to
the disgust of the others. He goes triumphantly to lower L. and sits
on bench. They keep up a chatter._)
FREDDIE. Say! (_Children all stop noise to listen_) I played a joke on
those trustees! (_Boasting._)
JUDY. (_Coming down R._) Freddie Perkins! (_Suspiciously_) What have you
done?
FREDDIE. I ain’t goin’ to tell.
(_Trustees are heard talking angrily at back off L._)
GLADIOLA. (_Crosses up to door_) Cheese it! They’re coming!
JUDY. (_Surprised_) Scamper out, children!
(_FREDDIE at first sound has bolted L. GLADIOLA and LORETTA in front of
lower table. MAMIE and SADIE KATE between tables R. GLADIOLA, LORETTA
and MAMIE exit lower R. SADIE exits R. 2. E. MRS. LIPPETT enters C.,
followed by a group of trustees and visitors, MISS PRITCHARD looking
worried, WYKOFF indignant, JERVIS amused. JUDY is at table R. of C.
MRS. LIPPETT R. of C. PARSONS L. of C. MISS PRITCHARD and JERVIS stand
at back. They have all been talking outside and it has grown in volume
until they are well on and in place._)
MRS. L. (_With sugar bowl_) Judy Abbott, what is the meaning of this?
JUDY. (_Bewildered R., about middle of table_) The sugar bowl?
(_MISS PRITCHARD crosses at back and down L._)
MRS. L. (_L. end of table_) It’s full of salt! (_JUDY turns and looks
after FREDDIE._)
WYKOFF. We put salt in our tea.
(_JUDY bursts into quick laugh. JERVIS crosses R. and down L. of tables,
back turned to JUDY and amused by the scene._)
MRS. L. When you have finished laughing, perhaps you will tell us how it
came there?
JUDY. I don’t know.
MRS. L. Of course you don’t know. You never know anything.
MISS P. It was a mistake.
WYKOFF. (L. C.) Bad management. Bad management!
JUDY. (_Apologetically_) I didn’t know about it, of course—I’m very
sorry it happened!
(_MRS. LIPPETT sees the empty plate and crumbs on table._)
MRS. L. What’s this? (_They all turn and look_) So, you’ve been stealing
the refreshments that were left?
(_PARSONS goes up C._)
JUDY. The children were hungry—it’s after their regular supper-time—and
I gave them each a piece of bread and butter.
(_PARSONS discovers the broken cup._)
WYKOFF. Mrs. Lippett, does this young woman run this institution?
PARSONS. (_Coming down C. with broken china_) Here! Here! What’s this?
(_JUDY stares in amazement._)
MRS. L. (_Turning upon her sharply_) How did that get broken? (_JUDY is
silent_) Well—don’t stand there staring!
WYKOFF. Another little joke?
MRS. L. Answer me, Judy Abbott. Did you break that cup?
JUDY. (_With dignity_) No, Mrs. Lippett, certainly not!
(_PARSONS puts broken cup on tray at his R._)
MRS. L. Who put it there?
JUDY. I don’t know.
MRS. L. Seems as though you are old enough to take a little
responsibility.
JUDY. (_Miserably_) I try to, Mrs. Lippett—but I can’t be in two places
at once. And to-day while the nurse was taking care of the sick babies⸺
MRS. L. I’ve heard that excuse before. (_Turns to trustees_) You see,
ladies and gentlemen, the kind of stupidity I have to work against. This
is our prize orphan—the one we have educated—but I can’t trust her with
a simple thing like sending in tea.
WYKOFF. (_Turns up L. to table_) Doesn’t pay to educate ’em out of their
class.
MRS. L. These children are the most deceitful creatures I have ever
known. It’s enough to make one lose one’s faith in human nature.
JUDY. (_Facing MRS. L. quietly_) If you would _trust_ the children, they
would not deceive you.
MRS. L. So now, you are going to be impertinent, are you?
(_WYKOFF discovers picture on table L._)
MISS PRITCHARD. (_Pleasantly, tries to end the discussion_) Dishes will
get broken—suppose we join the others.
(_WYKOFF is examining the picture which he has casually picked up._)
WYKOFF. (_Facing front explosively and showing picture_) Good heavens,
Madam! What does this mean? Do I look like a June bug? (_Comes and
exhibits it C. to MRS. L._) And may I ask who is the artist?
(_JUDY stands staring at the others with something of the air of a
hunted animal._)
MRS. L. (_With ominous quietness_) Is that one of your drawings?
(_WYKOFF shows it to trustees at C._)
JUDY. Yes, Mrs. Lippett.
MRS. L. Have you anything to say?
JUDY. (_Miserably_) I can’t draw. I just do it to amuse the children.
WYKOFF. To amuse the children? Madam, is this the kind of respect that
you teach?
(_CODMAN puts picture on table at his L._)
MRS. L. (R.C.) How do you dare make fun of a trustee of the John Grier
Home?
JUDY. (_R., frightened_) I—I didn’t mean to make fun of anybody.
MRS. L. Oh! I suppose you think that is a fitting way to show gratitude
for all that’s been done for you? This Home has given you every mouthful
you ever ate, and as a result, you ridicule your benefactors. I’ll tell
you this, Miss Judy Abbott—you’ll be finishing school next month and
then you’ll be put to work. The kind of place you’ll get will depend on
your record here.
WYKOFF. (C.) And when you have to shift for yourself, young woman—then
maybe you won’t think life so funny.
(_Other Trustees nod approval._)
_READY Dim Foots_
JUDY. (_Wearily_) I don’t think it’s so very funny now.
MRS. L. Oh, there’s no use trying to make anything decent of her. I
shall send you to a boarding house keeper who wants a little slavey to
wash the dishes.
JUDY. I shall be very happy to go. Any place, anywhere will be better
than this.
MRS. L. (_Beside herself_) You ungrateful little—imp! What do you mean?
JUDY. (_Commencing in low, intense tone, gradually rising to a fever of
rebellion_) I mean—I don’t feel any gratitude because I have nothing to
be grateful for. There is no charity about it. I have earned my living
in the John Grier Home. I have worked from the time I was a tiny child.
For three years straight I polished brass door knobs until you
discovered that I was clever enough to do other things. And you haven’t
kept me all this extra time just for my own good. When I was eleven
years old that lady wanted to adopt me. But you made her take another
child instead, because I was useful. I might have had a home, too—like
other children—and you stole it away from me. And you call me ungrateful
because I’m glad to go? I don’t care _how hard_ it will be. I can make
my own way in the world. Just give me a chance. Anywhere—out of the
shadow of this asylum, and I will prove what I am good for. I’ve lived
eighteen years in prison. I _hate_ the John Grier Home! (_As she hurls
this last defiance she turns and runs out R._)
_DIM_
[Illustration: Judy points accusingly at the trustees.]
(_JERVIS has turned his back to the scene and stands down L. with folded
arms and head bowed in deep thought, for JUDY has won his admiration
by her plucky stand. After a pause the trustees recover from their
astonishment._)
MRS. L. You see! You see!
WYKOFF. The quicker you pack her off the better.
MISS P. The child didn’t know what she was saying!
CODMAN. Insubordination!
PARSONS. Bad example.
WYKOFF. Demoralize the whole institution!
PARSONS. She must be punished!
(_They start to go, shaking their heads and talking excitedly at once._)
MRS. L. And punished severely. Oh, if you knew what I have to put up
with⸺
(_They go off C., the excitement and tumult gradually dying down. MISS
PRITCHARD follows them up to C., trying to pacify them. JERVIS eases
over to R. of C._)
MISS P. (_Coming down C._) I am sorry this had to happen before you, but
really, really, we have no right to be angry.
JERVIS. Angry? Oh, no, no! (_Crosses over R. of C._) I was only
hesitating because—well—I must be sure I’m doing the best thing for the
girl. But, by jove! (_Turns to MISS P._) It was great to see that little
thing rise up and demand her right to live. She shall have it! (_Looks
off R. I. E. and then slaps his hand as having arrived at a decision._)
MISS P. (C.) What!
JERVIS. (_Turns to MISS P._) I’ll send her to college!
MISS P. (_Joyfully_) That _is_ generous!
JERVIS. (_Gruffly_) Nonsense! I’m interested. I’d like to see if the
girl really can pull it off!
MISS P. She will be so _grateful_.
JERVIS. (_Crossing L._) No, no. None of that. She’s never to know who
does it.
MISS P. She will want to thank you.
JERVIS. Well, she can’t. I won’t have it. Why! She’s had to give thanks
for every mouthful she ever ate! I wonder she didn’t choke. This college
business comes as a free gift from Heaven.
MISS P. Don’t you want to watch her progress?
_READY Sadie Kate_
JERVIS. From a distance. They can send me her reports.
MISS P. A college doesn’t send reports.
JERVIS. (_Sits. Thinking out loud_) Well, let me see. We’re to make a
writer of the girl? H’m—there’s no better practice in composition than
good, old-fashioned letter writing. She may write me a letter on the
first of every month, telling about her studies and her daily life—just
such a letter as she would write to her parents—if—she had any.
MISS P. She will have to know your name.
JERVIS. Tell her Smith. John Smith. She will address her letters to Mr.
John Smith—in care of my secretary, just as the boys do their reports.
But she’s never to expect any answer. (_Rises_) I can’t have Judy a
nuisance.
MISS P. I will explain the best I can. (_Rises._)
JERVIS. And don’t explain to anyone else. We must keep it a secret
(_Looks off R. I. E._) for the girl’s sake. Let her forget the asylum.
(_Back of MISS P._) Blot the word “orphan” out of her mind. (_Turns
up._)
(_SADIE KATE enters from L.2E. and puts a spoon on lower table._)
MISS P. (_Crosses to R. of JERVIS_) Sadie Kate, run quick and call Judy
Abbott.
(_SADIE exits R., calling “Judy—Judy.”_)
JERVIS. (_Going up C._) And now I must run. I don’t want the child to
see me. Get her some pretty frocks—and all that sort of nonsense.
Good-bye. (_Ad lib._)
_DIM_
MISS P. Good-bye! Thank you! Thank you! (_Follows him up stage and
watches him off as JUDY dejectedly enters at R. She comes to R. C. to
MISS P. MISS P. turns, sees JUDY and goes to her._)
JUDY. (_With dead voice_) Well—what are they going to do with me?
MISS P. (_Very kindly_) Nothing dreadful.
JUDY. (_Sits on bench L._) I didn’t mean to break out that way—but when
you think bitter thoughts for years and years, some day—suddenly—they
just won’t stay inside you any longer. (_Turning away._)
MISS P. Judy—(_Sits by JUDY_)—I have good news for you. (_JUDY faces
front_) Something wonderful is going to happen to you.
JUDY. (_Slowly facing MISS P._) Wonderful?
MISS P. Judy—a gentleman—one of our trustees—is going to send you to
college.
JUDY. (_Rising. MISS P. also_) To college? Me? (_MISS P. nods
affirmatively to her question_) Oh!
MISS P. With pretty new frocks and everything.
JUDY. (_To MISS P._) You mean—I’m going just like any other girl—who has
a real father and mother?
MISS P. Yes, dear.
JUDY. (_Slowly grasping the situation and as though choking over her
joy, crosses over L._) _Oh, oh_, oh! It sounds just like the fairy
stories I make up to tell the children.
MISS P. It’s true, dear.
JUDY. (_Turning to MISS P. breathlessly_) Who is he?
MISS P. No one you know.
_READY Light_
JUDY. He wasn’t here? To-day? Not one of those men?
_WARN CURTAIN_
MISS P. Yes.
JUDY. I didn’t look at them. What’s he like? What’s his name?
MISS P. You are not to know his name—his real name. You may call him Mr.
Smith.
JUDY. Smith?
MISS P. Mr. John Smith. He will be your guardian.
JUDY. My guardian! I’ll belong to him? And I won’t belong to the asylum
any more? I’ll belong just to him?
MISS P. Yes, dear!
JUDY. (_Turns—crying_) Oh, I’m so happy! I’m so happy! (_Turns to MISS
P._) Where is he? I want to tell him. I want to see him.
MISS P. You cannot see him, dear.
JUDY. But I want to know what he’s like. I’ll never bother him—never—if
I may see him just once. So I can think about him. Oh, please, please,
just this once? Please, please! (_Sobbing, she places her head on MISS
P.’S shoulder, who lays her arms around JUDY tenderly and mothers her. A
spotlight off L., swinging around on a pivot, throws a light through
upper window around the room, indicating the approach of an
automobile._)
MISS P. Hush, dear. I promised to keep it a secret. (_JUDY sobs again_)
But, he’s there—outside now! (_Horn_) Waiting for his car. (_JUDY turns
quickly, but MISS P. holds her at arm’s length_) No, no, dear—it’s too
dark to see his face, but there, reflected on the wall, you can see his
shadow! (_She releases JUDY, who crosses to table, looking off through
window L._)
JUDY. Oh, if I could only see his face. At last I have the shadow of a
father. Oh, my daddy—my daddy⸺ (_Laughing_) Look—what funny long legs
the shadow has. I never saw such long legs. I know⸺ (_Turning to MISS
P._) I’ll call him my dear, old Daddy Long-Legs.
CURTAIN
1st Curtain—Grown-ups and Judy—not Jervis.
2nd Curtain—All children. Jervis.
3rd Curtain—All children.
4th Curtain—Judy.
ACT II
SCENE: _JUDY’S college study, an afternoon in May, one year later. A
plan and full description of the scene will be found at the end of
the play._
AT RISE: _JULIA and SALLIE are discovered hastily putting the room in
order. JULIA down L., with a child’s broom, is sweeping and working
up stage to couch. Sweeps dust under rug. SALLIE, at R., is dusting
picture R. of window, then crosses down to chair L. of table C. and
holds up Tam-o’-shanter cap and tennis racquet._
SALLIE. (_R. up, comes down_) What on earth shall I do with these?
JULIA. (_L. down. Crossing to R. of table_) Dump them under the couch.
(_SALLIE goes up and throws things under the couch. JULIA picks up a
coat and a sweater from the floor C._) Isn’t it just our luck to have
the whole family come bursting in without a word of warning? (_Crosses
R. and throws things into room R.2._)
SALLIE. (_Coming L. of table to chair—Crosses L._) Your mother and Miss
Pritchard did look shocked when they saw this room. (_Crosses L.,
throwing basket-ball and mask into room U.L. under couch._)
JULIA. (_Crossing to chair R. of table, picking up racquet and coat_)
They ought to let us know before they surprise us. I invited them for
the reception this evening. I didn’t ask them to spend the day.
(_Crosses R., throws things into JUDY’S room and closes door._)
SALLIE. (_To desk L. for golf bag at desk back R._) If they had waited
to come with the men on the five o’clock train⸺ (_Sets golf bag above
desk in corner._)
JULIA. (_R. of C._) We should have been ready.
SALLIE. (_Crossing C. behind table_) Shut your desk, Julia⸺ (_Which is
R. below door_) It’s a sight.
JULIA. (_Pointing to desk up stage R.C. and then crossing down R. to
close desk_) No worse than yours. (_Crosses R._)
SALLIE. (_Crosses up, closes desk and then crosses over L. by
couch—getting duster from couch and throwing it in room U.L., closing
door_) And look at Judy’s, in perfect order!
JULIA. Are there chairs enough?
SALLIE. (_Coming down, counting chairs and crossing over R.C._) Mrs.
Pendleton, Miss Pritchard, Judy, Julia, Sallie, brother Jimmie—(_Turning
to L. of chair up stage by door_)—and Mr. Jervis Pendleton.
JULIA. (_Crossing up to R. of chair_) That chair won’t do for Uncle
Jervis.
SALLIE. Why not?
JULIA. It wobbles on its back leg. (_Rocking chair._)
SALLIE. (_Coming down R.C._) Oh, I forgot. (_Cross R. Indicates chair
down R._)
JULIA. (_Crossing to table C._) I nearly dropped when mother said Uncle
Jervis was coming.
SALLIE. (_Picks up book from floor R.C. and crosses to desk at R._) Why
shouldn’t he?
JULIA. Oh, I bore him to death. This is the first time in years he has
taken the slightest notice of me. (_Crosses up and puts fencing foils
behind couch._)
SALLIE. Men love to visit a girls’ college. It’s like going to the
menagerie and watching the animals eat.
JULIA. (_Crossing C. back of table and looking despondently at the
table_) What’ll we ever do with this mess?
SALLIE. (_Crossing to R. of table, seizing two corners of the cover_)
You take the other end and we’ll carry it into your room. (_Moves toward
the door R., but JULIA, holding the other end of cloth, holds back._)
JULIA. No! We’ll put it in yours. (_She starts towards door U.L. and
SALLIE holds her back._)
SALLIE. It’s full up. You couldn’t squeeze a postage stamp into my room.
JULIA. We’ll take it into Judy’s and dump it on the bed.
SALLIE. Poor Judy! (_Laughing, they go to room down L. and exit. Series
of slight crashes heard. SALLIE returns and crosses to table up stage
and picks up a teacup from tray. JULIA returns with the cover for table
and crosses below table arranging cover, and goes behind table. SALLIE
blows into the cup._) My, these teacups are awfully dusty!
JULIA. (_Behind table C._) Oh! It won’t show when the tea is in.
SALLIE. Where’s the kettle? (_Both girls look around the room._)
JULIA. (_Cross R._) The kettle? The kettle? Oh, under the couch.
(_SALLIE goes to couch, kneels down and gets kettle. A knock is heard on
the door_) Good gracious, who’s that?
SALLIE. (_Crossing to table C. with kettle_) Set that chair over the
inkspot.
(_JULIA sets chair R. of table, over the inkspot and SALLIE goes up with
kettle to table above as MRS. PENDLETON and MISS PRITCHARD enter._)
JULIA. Ah, Mother!
MRS. PENDLETON. (_Coming down_) Well, girls, still at work? (_Crosses to
L. of table C._) How quickly you have put your room in order! (_MISS
PRITCHARD closes door._)
JULIA. (_Behind C. table_) Oh, there’s nothing like a college education
for teaching one to be a good housekeeper. (_Goes up to window seat,
putting odds and ends on seat into the top drawer; MISS PRITCHARD coming
down to R. of C. table._)
SALLIE. (_Coming down L. of C. table_) Did you like the basket-ball
game, Mrs. Pendleton?
MRS. P. (_Sitting L. of table_) It was very unladylike.
JULIA. (_Facing front_) Where’s Judy?
MISS P. (_Sitting R. of table_) She had to go to a rehearsal. (_Sits._)
SALLIE. She has too many engagements. (_Up to couch, arranging pillow._)
MRS. P. Julia, what sort of people does Judy Abbott come from?
JULIA. (_Coming R. of MRS. PENDLETON_) I haven’t the slightest idea,
Mother.
MRS. P. Doesn’t she ever mention her family?
JULIA. She told me that she was descended from the first man ever hanged
in the United States. (_After laugh—a knock sounds on the door at back.
JULIA crosses to open it._)
MRS. P. What an extraordinary thing to boast of!
JULIA. (_Opens door and takes card from the maid_) Mr. James McBride.
(_Crosses R.C. SALLIE crosses to C._) Here’s your brother, Sallie.
SALLIE. (_Above C. table_) Ask him to come up.
MRS. P. Have you permission?
SALLIE. Just going to get it. The room’s upholstered in chaperones.
(_Crosses to desk and arranging it._)
MRS. P. (_Turning to maid_) There will be another gentleman. Have the
maid send him up when he comes.
MAID. Yes, ma’am. (_Closes door._)
MRS. P. (_To MISS PRITCHARD_) Jervis is taking such an interest in
Julia’s college career.
JULIA. (_R.C. Turning to them_) Yes, I wonder what struck him all of a
sudden.
MRS. P. He proposed coming of his own accord.
MISS P. That’s very nice!
JULIA. (_Turning front_) What are we going to give them to eat?
SALLIE. (_Crosses to L. of JULIA_) Oh, I wonder!
MRS. P. (_Shocked_) Haven’t you prepared?
JULIA. We’ve been too busy.
SALLIE. (_Crosses to C. above table_) Judy promised to make some fudge.
JULIA. She forgot it. (_Crosses L. of JUDY’S desk._)
MRS. P. But you don’t want candy for tea?
JULIA. Oh, yes, you do. It takes away your appetite so you don’t mind
what you get for dinner. (_Knock on door. SALLIE crosses to R. and opens
door. JIMMIE MCBRIDE enters._)
SALLIE. Oh, hello, Jimmie. (_MRS. PENDLETON and MISS PRITCHARD both
rise._)
JIMMIE. (_Kissing SALLIE_) Hello, sis. (_SALLIE and JIMMIE come down
stage._)
SALLIE. Miss Pritchard, do you know my brother?
(_MISS PRITCHARD rises—SALLIE takes JIMMIE’S hat and crosses to couch
with it. JIMMIE exchanges greetings with MISS PRITCHARD._)
MISS P. Delighted to meet you!
MRS. P. (_Crossing to C. of table_) How do you do, Jimmie?
JIMMIE. (_Crossing to MRS. PENDLETON_) Mrs. Pendleton! (_Shaking hands
with her._)
JULIA. (_At L._) Good afternoon, Jimmie!
(_JIMMIE crosses to JULIA as MRS. PENDLETON crosses to MISS PRITCHARD R.
of table by chair._)
JIMMIE. (_Crosses to R. of JULIA_) Miss Julia Pendleton. (_Bowing
elaborately_) Yours to command! Well, I never was invited up here
before. Why am I thus honored?
SALLIE. (_Coming down R. of JIMMIE_) We’re giving a tea.
MRS. P. I wonder what’s become of my brother-in-law. He should have been
on your train.
JIMMIE. An opulent gentleman who takes a taxi?
JULIA. Yes.
JIMMIE. My trolley passed him on the hill.
(_A knock sounds on door. JULIA crosses to open door._)
SALLIE. Ah—voila.
(_JULIA opens door and JERVIS enters._)
JULIA. Ah! Uncle Jervis. (_Kisses him and closes door, then takes box of
candy he has brought and with an air of mock obsequiousness turns to
announce him in the manner of a butler_) The Honorable Mr. Jervis
Pendleton, and five pounds of candy!
(_Positions are JERVIS at R., JULIA L. of JERVIS, MISS PRITCHARD R. of
table C., MRS. PENDLETON L. of MISS PRITCHARD, SALLIE L. of table, and
JIMMIE L. by JUDY’S desk._)
JERVIS. (_Coming down to greet MISS PRITCHARD, and then MRS. PENDLETON
as MISS PRITCHARD crosses to R., and sits at desk. SALLIE gets a pair of
scissors from shelf underneath table and helps JULIA open box of candy.
JERVIS turns to JULIA as MRS. PENDLETON crosses to R., taking chair L.
of MISS PRITCHARD_) Ah, ladies, I trust I’m not late!
JULIA. Early. We haven’t permission to have you yet. This is Sallie
McBride, my roommate. (_JERVIS crosses to R. of table, shakes hands with
SALLIE, who then joins JULIA above table._) And her brother, Jimmie!
JIMMIE. Oh! I say⸺
JULIA. Oh, pardon—Mr. James McBride of Yale.
JERVIS. (_C. of table. JIMMIE crosses to shake hands with him_) How do
you do?
JIMMIE. How are you?
(_SALLIE drops down L. of JIMMIE and JULIA L. of SALLIE._)
JERVIS. Is this your first visit, Mr. McBride?
JIMMIE. No—fourth.
JERVIS. Fourth? Well, well—very devoted brother.
SALLIE. Yes, isn’t he? (_Giving short burlesque laugh_) Ha!—Oh, by the
way, Jimmie⸺ (_JERVIS starts to cross R. and up—back turned._) You won’t
be able to see Judy Abbott this time. (_JERVIS stops to listen._)
JIMMIE. Why not?
SALLIE. Why, because she⸺
JULIA. Has the mumps!
JIMMIE. Oh, I say! Why didn’t you telegraph me not to come?
SALLIE. I thought you came to see me.
JIMMIE. Well, in a way, I did.
SALLIE. And in a way you didn’t.
JULIA. Calm yourself. She hasn’t the mumps.
SALLIE. She’ll be here in a few minutes. (_Crosses in front to R. MRS.
PENDLETON and MISS PRITCHARD._)
JIMMIE. (_Crosses L. and sits at desk_) Ah, I breathe again.
JERVIS. (_R.C. Watches JIMMIE, then turns to JULIA, politely
interested_) And—who is Miss Judy Abbott?
JULIA. Our other roommate. We three have this study together.
JERVIS. I see. A very pleasant arrangement.
JULIA. Sit down, Uncle Jervis. Don’t mind us. We’re getting the tea.
(_JERVIS turns to the wobbly chair and is about to sit when SALLIE
screams and hastily crosses, preventing him also from occupying chair.
As she screams, JERVIS starts back and JIMMIE jumps up._)
SALLIE. Oh! This chair isn’t comfortable. (_Takes JERVIS’S hat and
gloves, goes down behind C. table_) Take _that_ chair. (_Indicating
chair over inkspot. JERVIS comes down, and is about to move chair over
to MRS. PENDLETON. SALLIE puts hat and gloves on couch._)
JULIA. (_Hastily interposing, screams and again JERVIS starts
back—JIMMIE up L.C._) No, no. You mustn’t move it, Uncle Jervis.
JERVIS. (_Puzzled_) Why not?
JULIA. Well, take that chair. (_Indicates chair L. of table._)
JERVIS. Thanks! I’ll stand! (_Turns to L. of MRS. PENDLETON. SALLIE has
gone to tea table and JULIA turns up and joins SALLIE. She stands on
couch. JIMMIE crosses over R. at back between MRS. PENDLETON and MISS
PRITCHARD._)
SALLIE. (_Holding up bottle_) We’re all out of alcohol.
JULIA. Maybe there’s enough in the lamp.
SALLIE. (_Opening matchbox_) Oh, we’re all out of matches.
JERVIS. (_Turns, takes match-safe from pocket and crosses up to table_)
Allow me.
SALLIE. (_L. of table_) Thank you. Will you please light that?
(_Indicates the spirit lamp._)
JULIA. (_Peering into sugar bowl_) Only one lump of sugar!
MRS. P. I don’t take sugar.
JULIA. Do you take sugar, Uncle Jervis?
JERVIS. Four lumps! (_With back to audience, pretending to light lamp._)
JULIA. We’ll borrow some. (_Up to couch_) Where’s the tea?
SALLIE. In the bookcase. (_JULIA begins to look at one end of bookcase_)
No, no. Back of Kipling! (_JULIA goes to C. shelf as SALLIE holds up
cream pitcher. JERVIS saunters down R.C._) We haven’t any cream.
JULIA. We’ll give them lemons.
SALLIE. Lemons, lemons! Oh, here’s one. (_L. of C. table, and taking a
tobacco skull from table; takes out one decrepit lemon._)
JERVIS. Is that a lemon?
(_JULIA comes down L. with tea-caddy._)
SALLIE. Yes.
JERVIS. It looks it. (_Sits R. of table. SALLIE returns lemon and skull
to table._)
JULIA. (_Peering into the caddy_) We’re all out of tea.
MRS. P. Oh, my dear!
MISS P. I’m not in the least hungry.
JIMMIE. (_Crossing to L. of MRS. PENDLETON_) I am.
JULIA. (_Down L. SALLIE L. of table_) You all came too early. This party
hasn’t commenced yet.
SALLIE. (_To JULIA_) Julia, you hunt around and find something to eat
while I get permission from the Dean. (_Crosses over R.C. and up,
opening the door._)
MRS. P. (_Rising_) I should like to meet the Dean. (_Joins SALLIE up
stage._)
JULIA. (_Up to table with tea-caddy_) Good idea, Mother. She can see
with her own eyes that you are a perfectly capable chaperon. (_MRS.
PENDLETON and SALLIE exit. JERVIS drops behind table C. JULIA crosses
over R._) Come along, Jimmie. (_JIMMIE crosses up to her as JERVIS goes
down L. of C. table._) It’s not proper to leave you here.
JERVIS. Proper to leave me?
JULIA. (_Turning to him_) Mercy, yes! When a man’s as old as _you_ are⸺
JERVIS. Yes, I know. He ought to be chloroformed.
JULIA. (_Laughs_) And don’t let the kettle boil over. (_Exits with
JIMMIE, closing door._)
JERVIS. (_Crossing to R. of table C., and a little eagerly_) Have you
seen her?
MISS P. Yes.
JERVIS. Well?
MISS P. (_Crossing to JERVIS_) Oh, she’s wonderful! I don’t believe
you’d recognize her.
JERVIS. I was trying to remember the other day what she looked like. All
I can recall is a mass of light hair and a pug nose.
MISS P. You’ll be surprised.
JERVIS. (_Cross L._) No. Nothing will surprise me any more.
MISS P. What do you mean?
JERVIS. I’ve had nineteen letters from Judy this winter.
MISS P. You answer them?
JERVIS. _No!_ Of course I don’t answer them. I told you I wouldn’t.
MISS P. But you _read_ them?
JERVIS. Yes, certainly. Why not?
MISS P. I was afraid—maybe you’d turn them over to your secretary.
JERVIS. (_Down in front of table, hands in pockets_) Oh, no! Little
Judy’s letters are not the sort I could allow my secretary to read.
MISS P. (_Anxiously_) What are they like?
JERVIS. (_Teasing her_) Disgraceful!
MISS P. (_Horrified. Rises_) What?
JERVIS. Shocking!
MISS P. Jervis!
JERVIS. Scandalous!
MISS P. Oh, no!
JERVIS. She makes love to me.
MISS P. The child thinks you are her father.
JERVIS. The child knows perfectly well that I am not her father.
MISS P. She thinks you are an old man.
JERVIS. (_Rises. Indignantly_) I’m not an old man. I won’t be treated
like an old man.
MISS P. Please don’t be angry⸺
JERVIS. She draws pictures of me. (_Sits L. of table._)
MISS P. Oh! I’m sorry⸺
JERVIS. She draws me bald-headed—without any hair—and legs that are
long.
MISS P. (_Firmly_) It’s not right.
JERVIS. She calls me “Daddy Long-Legs.”
MISS P. I shall give her a good scolding. I can’t have her treating you
with disrespect.
JERVIS. I think I rather like being treated with disrespect.
MISS P. (_Reproachfully_) You were joking?
JERVIS. I think Daddy Long-Legs is a very nice name.
MISS P. Then you don’t regret taking charge of her?
JERVIS. Regret it? My dear lady! Her letters alone have been worth the
price of admission.
MISS P. You must see the child.
JERVIS. See her? Well, rather. You didn’t suppose I came up here to look
at my niece. (_Cross to C.L. to table._)
MISS P. (_Sits R. of C._) Jervis⸺ (_He stops C. of table and turns to
her_) It was foolish putting Judy in with those two girls.
JERVIS. Why?
MISS P. You know how particular your sister-in-law is about the people
Julia meets and if she ever discovers the truth⸺
JERVIS. (_Hands up in mock horror and walks back of table_) There’ll be
the deuce to pay!
MISS P. (_To R. of table_) I don’t know why you insisted⸺
JERVIS. (_Comes down_) What else _could_ I do? I had to keep track of
the girl somehow. Now, under cover of visiting my niece, I can very
conveniently keep an eye on my ward.
MISS P. But why all this secrecy? It would be simpler if you would just
come out openly and say you were the child’s guardian.
JERVIS. Come out openly? My dear lady—you don’t know what a parcel of
interfering women I’ve got in my family. They talked enough about the
boys I am educating. Do you think they would swallow a girl?
MISS P. It might be awkward.
JERVIS. When five women, with nothing to do, devote their energies to
arranging one’s life—a simple man might as well throw up his arms and
sink. (_Sits L. of table R._)
MISS P. I don’t blame you for being a woman-hater. (_JERVIS laughs_)
But—make an exception in little Judy’s case.
JERVIS. (_Rising and coming to L. of MISS P._) Oh, Judy and I are going
to be great friends.
MISS P. I hope so.
JERVIS. Why, of course we are. I feel a proprietary interest in the
girl. She belongs to me.
MISS P. Yes, yes, but the future, Jervis.
JERVIS. The future?
MISS P. It’s all very well now, but—what are we going to do with her
when the vacations come? We can’t send her back to the Home!
JERVIS. That’s all settled. I’m going to send her to a farm in
Connecticut. Lock Willow’s the name.
MISS P. Lock Willow?
JERVIS. Mrs. Semple’s place, you know, my old nurse Lizzie Semple.
MISS P. Oh, yes.
JERVIS. She wanted to spend the summer with the McBrides’, camping
somewhere. I knew what was best for her.
(_MISS PRITCHARD is about to speak when they hear someone at the door.
MISS PRITCHARD says “Hush” and turns to R. as JERVIS crosses to L. and
up. MRS. PENDLETON entering._)
MISS P. (_Crossing R., sits at desk_) Hush!—What a pretty room the girls
have!
(_MRS. PENDLETON brings down a plate of buns to table._)
JERVIS. Yes, isn’t it charming. What have you there? (_Crosses over to
L. to MRS. PENDLETON._)
MRS. P. Oh, something Sallie stole from a sophomore’s room. (_Crosses to
L. of table as JULIA enters—JERVIS going up to tea table L. of C._) This
is a very messy way in which to live.
JULIA. (_With a package of crackers, places it on table C._) Kettle
boiled? (_Goes up to tea table._)
MISS P. (_Looking into kettle, gives kettle to JULIA_) There’s no water
in it. (_JULIA starts to exit with kettle._)
MRS. P. (_Sitting L. of table_) Oh, daughter, dear. (_JULIA comes down
behind table. JERVIS crosses to L. of MISS PRITCHARD._) I’ve been
speaking to the Dean about having you and Sallie room alone next year.
(_JERVIS has crossed and joined MISS PRITCHARD. They exchange looks._)
JULIA. Why?
MRS. P. There’s something queer about Judy Abbott.
JULIA. That’s what makes her popular. You never know what she’s going to
say next.
MRS. P. I prefer to _know_ what people are going to say next.
JULIA. Now, Mother, don’t you interfere. Here, open these
crackers—(_Passes box to her_)—and—behave. (_Exits with kettle R.C._)
JERVIS. (_L. of MISS PRITCHARD, quietly_) Julia is coming on.
MRS. P. I never did approve of college for girls.
MISS P. Her roommates are _both_ charming.
MRS. P. The McBrides are very good people. The father owns a factory.
MISS P. (_Turning to JERVIS_) Makes overalls!
JERVIS. (_Shuddering, crossing to armchair_) Overalls! My dear Florence!
MRS. P. They are very wealthy.
JERVIS. (_Bowing to her_) Oh, well, in that case⸺
MRS. P. But I don’t know where Judy Abbott comes from.
MISS P. I told you that I knew her guardian. Mr. Smith is a charming
man, what more do you want? (_Rising, crossing to JERVIS, turning
helplessly to him_) You know him, Jervis, Mr. _Smith_⸺
JERVIS. Smith?
MISS P. Mr. John Smith.
JERVIS. Oh, John Smith⸺ (_Crossing to R. of table_) Yes—yes, John Smith.
Splendid chap. Belongs to my club. Thoroughly respectable.
MRS. P. Yes, but Julia isn’t rooming with him. (_JERVIS turns from her
to MISS PRITCHARD. Hopelessly MISS PRITCHARD sits in chair R._) Who’s
the girl? (_Rising_) Who was her father?
JERVIS. If this little Judy Abbott was fitted by nature to appreciate
the best, it belongs to her, no matter who her father was. (_Crosses
over to R._)
MRS. P. (_Crosses over L. to desk_) Oh, dear, it’s awful the way the
different social classes are getting all mixed up.
JERVIS. Awful! Isn’t it? (_Crossing to MISS PRITCHARD._)
MRS. P. At least we old families can stick together. (_Sits._)
(_Enter SALLIE with tea, followed by JULIA with water and JIMMIE with
sugar. JIMMIE closes door after him. Their manner is mock jubilant._)
SALLIE. (_Crossing to L. of tea table_) Tea!
JULIA. (_Crossing to R. of SALLIE._) Water!
JIMMIE. (Crossing to R. of JULIA) Sugar!
(_SALLIE and JULIA put the water and tea into teapot. JIMMIE stands with
back to audience, taking his handkerchief, spreads it across his vest
front in imitation of a waiter._)
JULIA. (_Facing front_) At last this function is ready to begin.
JIMMIE. (_Facing front_) The tango tea will now begin. (_MISS PRITCHARD
rises and JERVIS puts her chair at wall above desk. JIMMIE does a tango
step down to JERVIS and MISS PRITCHARD while SALLIE and JULIA sing a
tango tune. To MISS PRITCHARD_) Sugar or lemon?
JERVIS _and_ MISS PRITCHARD. (_JERVIS crosses to L. of MISS PRITCHARD_)
Lemon! (_JIMMIE tangoes to L. of table._)
JIMMIE. (_To MRS. PENDLETON_) Sugar or lemon?
MRS. P. Lemon.
JIMMIE. (_Tangoing to R. and up above table_) Three lemons. I beg your
pardon.
(_SALLIE comes down with cup of tea to JIMMIE, JERVIS and MISS PRITCHARD
have eased over to JIMMIE, leaving stage free and clear up R. for
JUDY’S entrance. JIMMIE takes teacup from SALLIE and turns, almost
upsetting the tea by bumping into JERVIS. JERVIS takes teacup from
JIMMIE, passes it to MISS PRITCHARD. SALLIE has gone back to the table
and JULIA has taken a cup of tea down to MRS. PENDLETON and returns to
SALLIE at the tea table._)
SALLIE. Jimmie, pass those buns!
JIMMIE. (_Taking plate of buns of table C._) The stolen buns? (_Turns to
JERVIS and MISS PRITCHARD_) Have a stolen bun? (_Without waiting,
crosses over L. to MRS. PENDLETON. JERVIS and MISS PRITCHARD, laughing
at him, ease up stage R. of C._) Have a stolen bun? Do have a stolen
bun. (_A vigorous knocking is heard. MRS. PENDLETON rises_) The police!
Caught with the goods! (_Does a funny little dodge to L. of MRS.
PENDLETON._)
(_The positions as JUDY enters are: MISS PRITCHARD R. and up. JERVIS L.
of MISS PRITCHARD, so that JUDY doesn’t notice them at first. At the
knock JULIA comes down to behind table and SALLIE down to L. of table
C. MRS. PENDLETON is over L. of SALLIE and JIMMIE L. of MRS.
PRITCHARD. Enter JUDY. As she opens the door and stands in hall-way,
she waves her hand and says “Good-bye” to classmates who laughingly
respond. JUDY swings into the room, slamming the door behind her and
leans against the door._)
[Illustration: Judy leans against the closed door of the room as the
others look at her from across the stage.]
JUDY. (_With a laugh_) Oh, I beg your pardon! (_Comes down a bit_) I
forgot we were giving a ball.
SALLIE. (_Pointing accusing finger at her_) Judy Abbott, where’s that
candy?
JUDY. (_Crossing to R. of C._) Oh!
JULIA. That you promised to make!
JUDY. Oh, I’m awfully sorry. (_Crosses to the table and her eye lights
on box of candy. She raises it amusedly and says solemnly_) The Lord
will provide! (_JERVIS turns away, smiling_) I learned that in my youth,
and it’s true. (_MRS. PENDLETON turns up and JUDY catches sight of
JIMMIE. JERVIS turns to JULIA, motions for introduction_) Jimmie
McBride! Are you here again?
(_JIMMIE crosses L. of table as JULIA drops down R. of JUDY._)
JULIA. Oh, Judy, my uncle, Mr. Pendleton, my roommate Miss Abbott!
(_JULIA crosses L., taking teacup from MRS. PENDLETON up to table.
JERVIS comes forward and bows with some ceremony, holding out his hand
to JUDY._)
JERVIS. This is a pleasure.
JUDY. (_Without paying much attention, shakes hands_) How do you do?
(_Without allowing him to finish she turns quickly to JIMMIE and shakes
hands with him very cordially. JULIA takes MISS PRITCHARD’S cup to tea
table as MISS PRITCHARD goes down R. and sits at desk. JERVIS drops down
and over to R. of armchair._) Jimmie, how do you manage to get away from
Yale so often?
(_MRS. PENDLETON works up and across at back and over R., takes chair
above desk, placing it L. of MISS PRITCHARD, sits. JERVIS, nonplussed
at JUDY’S turning to the younger man, works over R. of armchair. JULIA
and SALLIE drop down behind JIMMIE._)
JIMMIE. (_His hand on his heart_) There’s a magnet draws me.
SALLIE. (_Forces JIMMIE down into chair_) Jimmie, sit down and behave
yourself.
(_JIMMIE rises and turns indignantly to SALLIE, who comes L. of JIMMIE.
JULIA above chair. JUDY turns to L. of armchair._)
JERVIS. (_Is about to move armchair from over ink spots to near table
for JUDY_) Will you⸺
JUDY. (_Hastily pops into chair_) Oh, no, thank you. This is just where
I like it.
JERVIS. (_R. of JUDY_) Is there anything the matter with that chair?
JUDY. (_Innocently looking it over_) I don’t see anything the matter
with it.
JERVIS. Is it nailed to the floor?
JUDY. (_Looks at him and across at GIRLS_) No, it isn’t—but that’s a
very good idea. (_SALLIE and JULIA laugh with her_) Where’d all that
candy come from? Did you bring it, Jimmie?
SALLIE. (_With satirical laugh at JIMMIE. Crosses up and around R. back
of table_) Jimmie! Huh!
JUDY. You shouldn’t be so reckless with your allowance.
JIMMIE. Well, I⸺
JULIA. (_To above table at C._) A token of affection from Uncle Jervis.
(_Crosses L. of SALLIE._)
JUDY. (_Looking at JERVIS_) Oh, really. Uncles must be rather nice. I
never saw an uncle before. (_They all look at her._)
MRS. P. What?
JUDY. But I’ve often read about them.
(_JERVIS turns up stage, back turned to scene, enjoying JUDY’S
replies._)
MRS. PENDLETON. And haven’t you any uncles of your own?
JUDY. Never _had_ anything of the sort.
MRS. P. (_Turning to MISS PRITCHARD_) What in the world does she mean?
JUDY. I never had any uncles nor aunts nor fathers nor mothers nor
brothers nor sisters nor grandmothers—nothing!
MRS. P. Mercy, child! What happened to them?
JUDY. They were all swallowed up by an earthquake before I was born.
(_Everybody laughs—MRS. PENDLETON crosses to MISS PRITCHARD and sits,
and JERVIS comes R. of JUDY._)
JERVIS. You occupy a unique position, Miss Judy. Allow me to
congratulate you. (_Holding out his hand._)
JUDY. (_Regarding him with surprise_) Do you want me to shake hands with
you again? I just did it. (_Giving him her hand and rising_) Oh, I’m
willing to, but I thought you mustn’t shake hands with the same man more
than once in an afternoon. (_Releases hand_) I read that in a book of
etiquette.
JERVIS. What’s a book of etiquette between friends?
JUDY. I thought it took a long time to be friends with a man.
JERVIS. (_Playfully_) One minute is sometimes enough, with a man.
JUDY. (_Stepping back_) Do you want to know something—_funny_? (_SALLIE
goes up to couch._)
JERVIS. I should love to know something—_funny_.
JUDY. You’re the first man I ever spoke to.
JIMMY. (_Crossing to L. of table, SALLIE above table R. of JUDY_) Oh,
Judy Abbott!
JUDY. I mean the first real man. (_JERVIS sits on rocking chair. JIMMIE
crosses over to JULIA at L. JUDY to C. of table. JERVIS over to MRS.
PENDLETON and MISS PRITCHARD, and above them_) Oh, you’re not a man.
SALLIE. (_Coming down to L. of JUDY_) How did the rehearsals go?
JUDY. (_C. in front of table_) Awful. Bessie Carter is the leading man
and I’m the leading woman. And in the middle of the most touching
scene—what do you think happened?
ALL. What?
JUDY. Her mustache dropped right into my lap.
(_General movement. JIMMIE and JULIA start up stage, JIMMIE to table for
candy, JULIA to sofa, SALLIE over to L., JUDY up R. of table. JIMMY
offers candy—JUDY declines. SALLIE shoves chair L. of table in. JIMMIE
and SALLY up to couch—sit with JULIA, JIMMIE C., SALLIE R., JULIA L.,
JUDY to C. of table as MRS. PENDLETON crosses to armchair and sits.
JERVIS to L. of MISS PRITCHARD. They all laugh. JIMMIE takes box of
candy, SALLIE joins JULIA and JIMMIE at L. They go up and sit on
couch. JUDY follows SALLIE over L. and goes up behind table C._)
MRS. P. (_Crossing to chair R. of table at C. and sitting_) Oh, Miss
Judy—to come back to that earthquake.
(_JERVIS shows by manner to MISS PRITCHARD his apprehension of MRS.
PENDLETON’S attitude to JUDY._)
MISS P. Florence! (_JERVIS anxious for JUDY._)
MRS. P. You don’t remember either of your parents?
JUDY. (_Behind table_) I lost them both, before I was born.
(_JERVIS relieved, smiles at MISS PRITCHARD._)
MRS. P. But who took care of you?
JUDY. Different people. I have a _guardian_—who looks after me now.
Daddy Long-Legs.
MRS. P. Who?
JUDY. (_Quietly_) Daddy Long-Legs.
JERVIS. (_Leaning over chair L._) That isn’t his real name.
JUDY. Just the pet name I call him by.
MRS. P. And what is the profession of this Mr.—Mr.—er⸺
JUDY. Mr. Long-Legs. He is an educator.
(_JERVIS sits L. of MISS PRITCHARD._)
JIMMIE. An educator? Sounds like a biscuit!
(_A laugh from JUDY and the GIRLS._)
MRS. P. By the way, Miss Judy, do you come from the New England Abbotts
or the Virginia Abbotts?
JUDY. I believe—well, to tell the truth, I hardly know. My father never
took any interest in his family.
MRS. P. And don’t you take an interest?
JUDY. Very little. I have never even joined the Daughters of the
Revolution. (_Crosses to MISS PRITCHARD, who rises. JERVIS is R. of MISS
PRITCHARD._) When will you see my guardian again?
(_MRS. PENDLETON rises and goes up to couch. JIMMIE and the GIRLS rise.
SALLIE helps MISS PRITCHARD with her coat._)
MISS P. Very soon.
JUDY. Tell him I love him dearly. Then give him a kiss for me.
MISS P. Judy, Judy, what dreadful things you say. (_Turns up stage._)
JERVIS. I don’t wonder it embarrasses you. (_Crossing to JUDY. JIMMIE
comes down, putting candy on table._) I think such messages should be
delivered in person.
(_MISS PRITCHARD joins MRS. PENDLETON up C._)
JIMMIE. (_Coming R.C. L. of JUDY_) Oh, Judy, is it true you Freshmen
aren’t allowed to dance to-night?
JUDY. (_A step to JIMMIE_) No. The gymnasium is not big enough.
JIMMIE. I can’t dance with you at all?
JUDY. (_Soothingly_) But you may have a nice long promenade up and down
the bowling alley and all around the swimming tank.
JIMMIE. (_Grumbling_) I don’t want to walk all evening. I want to dance.
JUDY. Oh!
(_MRS. PENDLETON leaves up stage group and drops down to L._)
JERVIS. Then in that case you might bestow that promenade upon me.
JUDY. (_To JERVIS_) Oh, thank you. (_Turns and looks JIMMIE up
and down_) I’d hate not to have any partners—(_Turning to
JERVIS_)—especially at my first dance.
(_JIMMIE turns up and over R._)
MRS. P. (_Down L._) Your first dance?
JUDY. (_A step to C._) This will be my first dance—(_Indicates
JERVIS_)—my first man—and my first evening gown.
(_MISS PRITCHARD down to MRS. PENDLETON._)
MRS. P. Mercy, child, how were you brought up?
JUDY. Very simply. We didn’t dress for dinner.
(_JERVIS feels the hurt in her voice and turns away R._)
MISS P. If we are going to see the campus⸺ (_MISS PRITCHARD and MRS.
PENDLETON go up stage to JULIA and SALLIE._)
JIMMIE. (_Comes down R. of JUDY_) You promised to show me your running
track.
(_MRS. PENDLETON crosses to door U.R._)
JUDY. Oh, no, indeed. You don’t like to walk with me. Run along and join
the others. I’m going to put the room in order. (_Moves C._)
(_MRS. PENDLETON opens door and exits._)
JULIA. (_Crossing to door_) Come along, Jimmie. (_JIMMIE crosses to
her._) She’ll catch us.
(_JIMMIE exits with JULIA and SALLIE crosses to door._)
JERVIS. (_At R._) This doesn’t seem fair.
JUDY. It’s my turn. Besides, I’d rather. Sallie and Julia would just
poke the dishes under the couch.
SALLIE. Judy thinks we’re shiftless.
JUDY. You didn’t have my training.
(_SALLIE exits, MISS PRITCHARD crosses to door as JERVIS goes up and
waits for MISS PRITCHARD to pass._)
SALLIE. (_Going out_) Will you come along, Miss Pritchard?
MISS P. I’ll follow with Judy. (_JERVIS exits, leaving door open. MISS
PRITCHARD comes down to JUDY. They embrace_) Judy—I wanted a chance to
see you alone, dear.
JUDY. Isn’t it wonderful that this is Judy Abbott?
MISS P. Yes, yes! But you must remember—it is better not to mention the
asylum. (_Sits R. of table._)
JUDY. I haven’t told a soul.
MISS P. But you say such very surprising things.
JUDY. But how can I help it? You don’t know what it feels like to be
shut up in the dark for eighteen years and then suddenly be dumped right
out into the world.
MISS P. I know⸺
JUDY. The cat’s out of the bag a dozen times a day, but I grab it by its
tail and pull it back.
MISS P. (_Laughs_) Yes, you must. People like—like Mrs. Pendleton would
never understand.
JUDY. Do you know, she wanted to know my mother’s maiden name.
MISS P. Oh!
JUDY. I never saw such an inquisitive old thing. I’m going to put her in
a book.
MISS P. That’s the way to take it.
JUDY. (_Lightly_) She doesn’t bother me.
MISS P. You like the girls here?
JUDY. (_Nods_) Yes—they like me, too. But it’s only because I don’t wear
blue gingham. (_Crossing to R. of MISS PRITCHARD and turning_) You can
accomplish anything you want to in this world—if you only have the right
clothes.
MISS P. My dear!
JUDY. I’m wearing silk stockings. (_Sticks out foot and exhibits them_)
Isn’t that a joke? Tell Mrs. Lippett when you see her.
MISS P. (_Embracing her_) Judy Abbott!
JUDY. (_Sits on arm of chair_) Jerusha Abbott—wearing silk—I wonder
where she got that name. Jerusha Abbott.
MISS P. What do you mean?
JUDY. I suppose she took “Jerusha” off a tombstone. But I don’t know
where she picked the “Abbott.” Unless, maybe, out of the first page of
the telephone book.
MISS P. (_Distressed_) Why, my dear child, what an idea!
JUDY. (_Crosses in front of table_) I’d—I’d sort of like to know.
MISS P. (_Rises anxiously—following her, turns her round_) You are
happy, dear?
JUDY. (_Rising, facing MISS PRITCHARD and throwing off her momentary
soberness_) Happy! I’m so happy every moment that excited little thrills
chase up and down my back. I can’t wait to see everything and try
everything. I want to live faster and faster to make up for the time
I’ve lost.
MISS P. (_Rising and crossing to her_) Child! Child! You must face life
soberly. It holds many disappointments for us all.
JUDY. No! No! I’ve left all my troubles at the John Grier Home! Wait! I
want to show you something.
(_Exits L. JERVIS appears at open door of room, comes down R., leaving
door open._)
JERVIS. I was sent to order you out to look at the library.
MISS P. (_Crossing to JERVIS at R._) I’m just waiting for Judy.
JERVIS. You might leave me to do that and I’ll have a chat with her as
we come along.
MISS P. Isn’t she sweet?
JERVIS. (_About to express his delight, changes his reply to a
non-committal_) Yes—er—er—she does very well.
MISS P. Now, do you take back what you said? Is it a bad investment to
educate a girl?
JERVIS. Doesn’t it strike you that she’s pretty familiar with that young
McBride?
MISS P. No!
JERVIS. It’s just what I told you. We’ll no sooner get her educated than
some young whipper-snapper will come along and want to marry her.
MISS P. He isn’t a whipper-snapper. He’s a nice boy.
JERVIS. He’ll be wanting to marry her.
MISS P. Well—when she’s through college⸺
JERVIS. (_Crossly_) I don’t care to have my ward throwing herself away
on an overall factory.
MISS P. (_With a laugh_) Nonsense!
(_JUDY is heard off stage saying “Just a moment, MISS PRITCHARD.” JERVIS
cautions MISS PRITCHARD quietly and escorts her up to door L. She
exits and he closes door and comes down R., as JUDY comes from the
room L., holding up in front of her a white evening frock, so that it
completely shuts off a view of the room._)
JUDY. (_By door_) Look at my new gown that I’m going to wear to-night.
Daddy gave it to me. Did you ever see anything so lovely?
JERVIS. (_R. of C._) Well—I’m not much⸺
JUDY. (_Lowering gown and looking over top in consternation_) Oh, good
gracious sakes alive! How did you get here?
JERVIS. Through the door.
JUDY. Where’s Miss Pritchard?
JERVIS. Library. I told her we’d come along.
JUDY. (_Laughing_) Oh, I’m sorry. Just a second. (_She dives back into
room, leaves the gown and re-appears, crosses to C._) Ready?
JERVIS. (_R. by armchair_) That library doesn’t appeal to me very much.
Let’s wait here.
JUDY. (_Dubiously_) Without a chaperone?
JERVIS. I’m an uncle.
JUDY. And then, of course—you’re old.
JERVIS. Yes, exactly. I’m old. (_Motions to armchair_) Suppose we sit
down here and have a cozy, elderly flirtation all by ourselves. (_JUDY
sits—JERVIS gets chair at R. and comes back and sits R. of JUDY._)
JUDY. (_With a laugh_) Oh, I’d love to have a flirtation with a
Pendleton! That would be a beautiful joke.
JERVIS. Why a joke?
JUDY. You wouldn’t understand—you know before I came to college I never
realized that anything so superior ever existed as a Pendleton.
JERVIS. Oh, I see. You’ve had quite a dose of Julia.
JUDY. She has mentioned her family. I feel that it’s a great honor to be
seated in your presence.
JERVIS. (_Gruffly_) You rub some sense into my niece.
JUDY. I’m trying to do my best—but Gee Whiz!
JERVIS. What?
JUDY. Oh! Isn’t it ladylike to say—Gee Whiz?
JERVIS. Never!
JUDY. Don’t you approve of slang?
JERVIS. Not from you! (_Turns away._)
JUDY. Would you like to hear me swear?
JERVIS. No!
JUDY. I could. I’ve picked up quite a large vocabulary from all the
tough little Bowery boys I’ve known.
JERVIS. Where did you ever know any tough little Bowery boys?
JUDY. I used to be connected with a—charity.
JERVIS. What sort of charity?
JUDY. Oh, for children. A lot of nice, kind, benevolent old Johnnies
used to come every month and pat them on the head and murmur, “Poor,
homeless, little waifs!” And then find fault with the way the floors
were scrubbed and have refreshments, and go home, and forget all about
them for another month. It was very sweet.
JERVIS. And what part did you play in this little comedy?
JUDY. I? Oh, I used to watch them, and smile a little behind their
backs. (_She gets up in a sudden access of fierceness_) I hate
charitable people. (_JERVIS rises. JUDY turns and faces him contritely_)
I didn’t mean that! The only man I love in all the world is charitable.
(_She notices that he has risen again, suddenly_) Do you have to stand
up every time I do?
JERVIS. (_Takes chair back of table R._) It’s a polite thing for a
gentleman to do.
JUDY. It must be an awful nuisance to be a gentleman.
JERVIS. Eh?
JUDY. I’m glad I’m not one.
JERVIS. I’m glad, too.
JUDY. You don’t like my manners, do you?
JERVIS. You have very—sudden manners.
JUDY. I learned them out of a book. Cost a dollar and fifteen cents.
JERVIS. It pays to get a good quality.
(_JUDY takes book from shelf under table, goes back to armchair. Sits._)
JUDY. Sit down. (_JERVIS sits and JUDY reads from book_) “A lady never
accepts presents from a man but flowers and candy.”
JERVIS. How about that new frock?
JUDY. From Daddy Long-Legs? Oh, that’s different. He belongs to me.
JERVIS. (_Leans forward interestedly_) Oh!
JUDY. (_Turns another page_) “When a lady breaks her engagement to marry
a man, she returns all his presents.” That’s a very useful thing to
know. (_Rises, JERVIS also rises, laughing heartily. JUDY tosses book on
table with a laugh_) Isn’t it silly? (_Crosses to C. in front of
table._)
JERVIS. (_Crosses to armchair_) You stay kind-hearted and don’t hurt
people’s feelings—and that’s all the manners you need.
JUDY. (_Turning to him_) You know, Mr. Pendleton, I like you. You are so
sort of sensible, and grown-up⸺
JERVIS. And old⸺
JUDY. I wish I had an uncle! I wish I had a _lot_ of family.
JERVIS. I am entirely at your disposal. Anything you wish—by adoption.
JUDY. Really?
JERVIS. Yes.
JUDY. I want a grandmother more than anything in the world. Will you be
my grandmother, Mr. Pendleton?
JERVIS. No, I take that offer back. (_To armchair_) We’ll just be
friends.
JUDY. (_With a sigh_) It’s sometimes awfully lonely without a family.
JERVIS. It’s sometimes awfully lonely with a family.
JUDY. (_Thoughtfully_) But at least I’ve escaped one thing. I never get
homesick. (_Turns away._)
JERVIS. (_Breaks situation_) Where are you spending your vacation this
summer?
JUDY. On a farm in Connecticut. But I wanted to go to the McBrides’ camp
in the Adirondacks.
JERVIS. Well, why don’t you go?
JUDY. Daddy Long-Legs wouldn’t let me.
JERVIS. (_A step to C._) I see. Who owns this farm? (_Hands in
pockets._)
JUDY. Mrs. Semple.
JERVIS. Mrs. Semple?
JUDY. Lock Willow’s the name.
JERVIS. Lock Willow! Well, well. Isn’t that a coincidence. Lizzie Semple
was my nurse when I was a little shaver.
JUDY. (_A step back_) Your nurse?
JERVIS. Yes.
JUDY. Gee whiz! (_Turns away._)
JERVIS. Take care.
JUDY. (_Turns to him_) She must be awfully old.
JERVIS. Well, she’s coming on. It’s some time since I sat on Lizzie’s
lap and had my face washed.
JUDY. (_Laughs_) How funny!
JERVIS. (_Crossing to C. of table_) I occasionally motor through that
country and stop for a little fishing. Maybe I’ll see you.
JUDY. That will be very nice. (_Suddenly crosses over to L. and up as
JERVIS, stunned by his abrupt dismissal, turns front_) Thanks.
JERVIS. (_Crossing over R. and then turning to her_) And what are you
doing in college? Have you learned anything?
JUDY. (_Coming to L. of chair, reproachfully_) Have I learned anything?
The area of the convex surface of the frustum of a regular pyramid is
half the product of the sum of the perimeters of its bases by the
altitude of either of its trapezoids.
JERVIS. (_Bowing_) That is very impressive.
JUDY. (_Behind table_) I’ve finished—physiology. I know all about your
insides.
JERVIS. Um—yes⸺
JUDY. (_Crossing to armchair_) I hope you never touch alcohol, Mr.
Pendleton. It does dreadful things to your liver.
JERVIS. Thank you—I will remember.
JUDY. (_Sitting in armchair_) Did you know that we used to be monkeys?
JERVIS. (_Sitting R. of JUDY_) I’ve heard rumors.
JUDY. You, just as much as me.
JERVIS. And why not?
JUDY. But, of course, the Pendletons are descended from very superior
monkeys—with beautiful silky hair and extra long tails.
JERVIS. Oh!
JUDY. Did you ever read Hamlet?
JERVIS. Yes.
JUDY. Isn’t it corking?
JERVIS. Eh?
JUDY. Every night I put myself to sleep by pretending that I’m the
heroine of whatever book I’m reading. Do you ever do that?
JERVIS. I never have.
JUDY. Just now I’m Ophelia!
JERVIS. Ophelia?
JUDY. Hamlet and I are married. The King and Queen are dead. But Hamlet
didn’t kill them. They just died of—pneumonia.
JERVIS. Um—much more modern idea.
JUDY. You know—Hamlet and I are having a perfectly lovely time. I’ve
entirely cured him of being melancholy. He attends to the governing and
I look after the charities. We’ve just founded the most remarkable
orphan asylum. All of the children are happy.
JERVIS. And you, Miss Judy? Are you happy?
JUDY. Happy? (_Rises—JERVIS, too_) I’m the happiest person in the whole
wide world.
JERVIS. Tell me the secret.
JUDY. We have ice-cream twice a week—(_Goes to R. of table_)—and we
never have corn-meal mush.
JERVIS. That’s something.
JUDY. (_R. of table, facing him, hands on table_) And I’ve lots of
friends, and I’ve passed my examinations, and I’ve won a short story
prize⸺
JERVIS. Good!
JUDY. And I’ve made the basket-ball team—(_Stands up_)—and I have eight
new dresses—all of them different colors, and not, not one blue gingham.
(_Turning away._)
JERVIS. You don’t admire blue gingham?
JUDY. No! I shudder at the thought! (_Crosses over L._) Talk about
something else quick. (_Goes up. JERVIS glances about the room._)
JERVIS. What shall we talk about? (_Turning up a little_) Did you girls
furnish this room yourselves?
JUDY. (_Coming to table C._) The expensive things are Julia’s. It’s
awful the way she wastes money.
JERVIS. (_Over to R. of armchair—sternly_) If I had a girl who belonged
to me I’d give her an allowance and I’d make her keep within it. I hope
your guardian makes you keep within your allowance.
JUDY. (_Laughs and shakes her head_) No, he doesn’t. He gives me lots of
extra things.
JERVIS. That won’t do. He’ll spoil you.
JUDY. (_Facing him_) Oh! But it’s such fun to be spoiled—(_Facing
front_)—when you never have been.
(_JERVIS leans over armchair, looking at her tenderly. JUDY reads the
expression and turns abruptly to L._)
JERVIS. And which of all these things did you choose? (_Turns up._)
JUDY. (_Behind table_) This rug—do you like it?
JERVIS. Yes—very pretty.
JUDY. And that window seat. (_Going up C._) It used to be a bureau, but
I took off the looking-glass and upholstered the top. (_JERVIS goes up a
little also_) You pull the drawers out like steps and just walk up.
(_She does it and sits on the top_) Wouldn’t you like to try it, Mr.
Pendleton? It’s very comfortable.
JERVIS. (_Coming down R. of chair and pulling it up and off of ink
spot_) I think I’ll stay on dry land.
(_JUDY, in consternation, quickly descending from bureau._)
JUDY. (_Hastily coming down_) No, no, no! (_L. of chair_) Now, you’ve
done it!
JERVIS. (_Staring at the spot_) What’s that?
JUDY. Family skeleton. We keep it under the chair. I bought the rug for
half price because it had an ink spot.
JERVIS. A what?
JUDY. Ink spot.
JERVIS. You call that a spot? (_Cross R._) I’d call it a pond.
JUDY. (_Sets chair down on spot with a slam_) If people would just leave
our furniture alone, it would never show. (_To R. of table._)
JERVIS. (_R. of chair_) I’m sorry, Miss Judy. I won’t offend again. But
tell me, what sort of a man is your guardian?
JUDY. Daddy Long-Legs?
JERVIS. Yes.
JUDY. Oh, he’s sort of tall—and skinny. He’s getting a little shaky now,
and has to walk with a cane. He’s bald up here—but he has a nice fringe
of white hair all around here.
JERVIS. Oh, yes, quite a beauty.
JUDY. He’s a sweet lamb. And I love him more than anything in the whole
world.
JERVIS. That must make him very happy.
JUDY. (_Facing him_) He doesn’t know it. I wouldn’t tell him to his
face. It would spoil him. (_Turns away._)
JERVIS. Maybe it would do him good. It would give him a fresh interest
in life to think that a nice girl like you cared for him.
JUDY. (_Suddenly—turning to him. Sits on table_) When I get through
college, I’m going to live with him.
JERVIS. (_Startled_) Are you really? Does he want you?
JUDY. Not now. But he will when he knows me better.
JERVIS. Maybe you’ll change your mind when you know him better.
JUDY. Oh, no, I sha’n’t. I have it all planned. I am going to read out
loud to him, and plump up his pillow, and warm his slippers, and wrap up
his throat in camphorated oil, and _always_ make him wear his rubbers
when he goes out.
JERVIS. (_Dubiously_) That’s very touching.
JUDY. I am going to be awfully firm with him.
JERVIS. Oh, you are, are you? (_JUDY nods head_) Does he ever come to
see you? (_JUDY shakes her head_) No? Why not?
JUDY. He doesn’t care anything about me, really.
JERVIS. Nonsense, of course he does.
JUDY. I just pretend. You must have somebody to love, and he’s all I
have. So I make believe that he cares.
JERVIS. Maybe he does care—more than you think.
JUDY. (_Facing him, with a flash of fire_) No, he doesn’t! He’s a
horrid, cross, old thing, with a mouth that turns down like that, and a
perfectly dreadful temper.
JERVIS. So! And doesn’t he ever write to you?
JUDY. No!
JERVIS. And don’t you write to him?
JUDY. Yes, I write to him all the time—whenever I get lonely. But he
doesn’t even read my letters.
JERVIS. How do you know?
JUDY. He throws them in the waste basket.
JERVIS. Oh, no, you’re wrong. He keeps them tied together with a piece
of red tape, and locked in a drawer of his desk, and winter evenings
when he’s all alone in his dark library, he gets them out and reads them
over; and then he sits and looks in the fire and wonders what little
Judy is doing, and wishes she were there to talk to him.
(_JUDY listens with a pleased smile and faces him._)
JUDY. I like to think he does⸺ (_Turning away_) But it’s only
pretending. (_Crosses L. and up behind chair L. of table._)
_WARN CURTAIN_
JERVIS. I wonder! I wonder!
(_JUDY throws of her momentary sadness and faces him with a sudden
change of manner._)
JUDY. Do you know that I am a genius?
JERVIS. Are you really?
JUDY. Yes. That’s why my guardian is sending me to college. I’m going to
be a great author.
JERVIS. That’s very nice.
JUDY. (_With a quick laugh_) Wouldn’t it be a joke on my guardian, if I
turned out not to be a genius at all—but just a plain girl? (_Crossing
to L. of table._)
JERVIS. What an idea! Of course you’re a genius.
JUDY. (_Down L._) Do you think it would be fair to Daddy Long-Legs, if,
after being educated to be a writer, I should give it up and marry
somebody instead?
JERVIS. (_Coming to R. of table_) No! I do not!
JUDY. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll write a wonderful novel and make
an awful lot of money and give it all to Daddy—and then I’ll be free to
marry anybody I choose.
JIMMIE. (_Entering suddenly and standing by door_) I say, Judy Abbott⸺
JUDY. (_Crossing to him. They exit, laughing and chatting_) Oh, Jimmie!
I forgot all about you. You want to see the running track—well, come
right along.
(_As JUDY crosses to JIMMIE, JERVIS turns and follows her movements.
When she is off—he faces front, puzzled and nonplussed, as the curtain
descends._)
CURTAIN
1st Call—Everybody.
2nd Call—Judy.
ACT III
SCENE: _The sitting-room at Lock Willow farm, summer, three years later.
A plan and full description of the scene will be found at the end of
the play._
DISCOVERED: _At rise SALLIE, seated L. of table, looking more mature and
womanly than in the preceding act, is discovered at rise,
interestedly engaged in writing a letter. JIMMIE enters U.L.,
wearing a slight mustache and dressed in flannels. He enters,
humming a song and carrying a gun._
JIMMIE. (_Throws cap on piano_) Well—got him! (_Places gun R. of
what-not._)
SALLIE. (_Looking up_) What?
JIMMIE. (_Crosses to L._) Woodchuck!
SALLIE. (_Resumes writing_) That’s good!
JIMMIE. (_Crosses to door U._) Oh—Mrs. Semple!
MRS. SEMPLE. (_Off stage R._) Y-e-s⸺
JIMMIE. The deed is done. (_Turns to SALLIE, who pays no attention,
crosses R. of table_) I’ve been lying on my stomach for two hours,
waiting for that old cuss to stick out his head. Gee, I’m stiff. (_Goes
through gymnastics._)
SALLIE. (_Looks up and laughs despairingly_) My dear Jimmie, won’t you
ever grow up? You’ve been out of college two years, and you act like a
Freshman.
JIMMIE. (_Turning to mirror over mantel up R. and twirling his
mustache_) Freshman! Did you ever see a Freshman with a mustache like
that? (_SALLIE resumes writing. To mantel_) I say, where is Judy?
(_Crosses to C. above table._)
SALLIE. She drove to the village, to send off the manuscript of her new
book.
JIMMIE. Well, why didn’t she ask me to go along?
SALLIE. You were occupied.
JIMMIE. (_Sits R._) I could have postponed that woodchuck until
to-morrow.
SALLIE. To-morrow! Jimmie McBride, you must go home to-day. You had no
business stopping off here at all.
JIMMIE. You visit Judy for two weeks. I should think I might have two
days.
SALLIE. Father needs you in the factory.
JIMMIE. Factory? Work—work—work! It’s awful the way we men have to work
to keep you women in idleness and luxury.
SALLIE. You? Work! Ha! It’s Judy who knows how to work!
(_MRS. SEMPLE enters R. and JIMMIE rises._)
MRS. S. (_Crossing to R. of JIMMIE_) Well, did you get the critter?
(_Crosses to R. of table._)
JIMMIE. (_Weeping into his handkerchief_) It’s all over. (_Crosses to
piano—sits and picks out a one-fingered tune._)
MRS. S. I’m real glad. He et all the tops off my young carrots. (_Up R.,
looking around the room—to set things in order—but no halt in the
lines_) Mr. Jervis usually keeps the woodchucks pretty well shot-up; but
he ain’t been here lately.
_PHONE READY_
JIMMIE. (_Turning interestedly_) Is Mr. Pendleton in the habit of
coming?
MRS. S. (_Crosses down a little R._) Off and on.
JIMMIE. (_Curiously_) Off and on?
MRS. S. (_Continuing_) ⸺for a little fishing.
JIMMIE. Fishing!
MRS. S. I’m always glad to see him, it makes it cheerful for Miss Judy.
JIMMIE. (_Rising_) Oh, fishing?
MRS. S. (_Crossing to piano, looking at picture of JERVIS over window_)
I can’t realize that Mr. Jervis ain’t still the little boy in that
picture. Seems like he belonged to me. But of course I was only his
nurse and after he growed up, he sort of drifted off. (_Sitting R. of
table. JIMMIE at window._)
JIMMIE. (_Comes down R._) Until Miss Judy commenced coming—and then he
sort of drifted back, eh?
MRS. S. Oh, he’s awful fond of _fishing_. (_Phone rings, one long,
followed by three short_) Telephone! (_Crossing to R._)
SALLIE. That’s not our number!
MRS. S. 13! The Weavers! Wonder who’s talking to ’em? I’ll just find
out. (_She waddles off R. SALLIE resumes writing and JIMMIE crosses
above table C._)
JIMMIE. (_Crossing above table_) Don’t you think it’s darned queer for
Jervis Pendleton to be visiting up here?
SALLIE. No! She’s his old nurse!
JIMMIE. Nurse? Maggie Flannigan is my old nurse, but I don’t spend my
_summers_ with her.
SALLIE. (_Mocking MRS. S._) Mr. Pendleton’s awful fond of fishing.
JIMMIE. Fishing! Rats! (_Crosses to chair R. by fireplace._)
MRS. S. (_Entering—crosses to up R._) That was Jim Weaver talking to
their doctor. It’s awful the way Jim Weaver swears over the telephone. I
think every lady on the line ought to complain. Miss Judy had the
telephone put in. We never had one till she came. Don’t know what we’d
do without it now. (_Sitting R. of table, crosses to R. for workbasket
on table and returns to R. of table and sits and begins work on
knitting_) Miss Judy does have more ideas! The first summer she was here
she and Mr. Jervis knocked out the whole wall side of the house and had
that window put in. Makes it look like all outdoors. It’s fine for the
summer, but they ain’t here in the winter. (_Grunt. Workbasket on
table_) And then she had that piano put in tuther room. The last I
heard, they was planning a pergolley in the garden. But he ain’t been up
here for a month or so and I guess the pergolley notion has sort of
dropped. I don’t know what she’ll think of next.
JIMMIE. (_Rises, twirling mustache with self-satisfied air_) She’ll be
getting married next, and then⸺
MRS. S. (_Looks across at JIMMIE_) When she does marry, I hope it will
be to a man that amounts to something, and not to some trifling,
good-for-nothing young fellow who’s afraid of work.
JIMMIE. (_Gives himself a burlesque punch and turns up_) Ooh!
MRS. S. (_Putting workbasket on table_) Land sakes! (_Looks at clock on
mantel_) What time does your train go? I mustn’t let you miss it!
JIMMIE. (_Sweetly_) Thanks!
MRS. S. Too bad you weren’t here when Miss Judy left; she could
a-carried you to the station.
JIMMIE. Oh, I can postpone going until to-morrow, if it isn’t
convenient⸺
_READY PHONE_
MRS. S. Oh, it’ll be _convenient_⸺ (_Telephone rings, one long and one
short. MRS. SEMPLE rises_) The Widow Dowd! I wonder who’s talking to
her? (_Hurries off R. JIMMIE turns to SALLIE._)
_READY PHONE_
JIMMIE. (_Above table_) Are you writing a book, too? Is it catching?
SALLIE. (_Gathering up pages_) I’m just writing a _note_ to Gordon.
JIMMIE. A note? You’ve got it bad! I hope when I get engaged, my girl
won’t write me notes like that and expect an answer.
SALLIE. (_Having enclosed note in envelope, rises_) Jimmie, wait a
second! (_Crosses to L._) I’ll get a stamp. (_Goes upstairs and off, as
MRS. SEMPLE enters at R._)
MRS. S. (_To R. of table_) That was Mrs. Iry Hatch wantin’ to borrow the
Widow Dowd’s ice-cream freezer.—Now what do you s’pose she wants to make
ice-cream for in the middle of the week? (_Phone rings: two long and
three short rings_) There it goes again! That’s our number. I don’t get
no rest! (_Hurries Off R. SALLIE enters._)
SALLIE. (_Downstairs on landing to JIMMIE_) Oh, Jimmie! The Postman is
coming up the road. Give him this and see if there is any mail for us.
(_CARRIE enters U.L. Crossing to C., carrying a broom and dust cloth; as
JIMMIE turns to exit._)
JIMMIE. (_Going up and off L. MRS. SEMPLE enters R. and crosses up to
CARRIE at R.C. SALLIE to L. of table, closing writing desk_) I fly!
MRS. S. Carrie! Carrie! Mr. Jervis has just telephoned from the station.
He’s driving up and he’ll be here in half an hour. (_CARRIE crosses to
door R._) Ain’t it lucky I made that jelly cake? (_Calls off R._)
Carrie! Carrie! You go and clean the best bedroom.
CARRIE. But Mr. McBride’s in it!
MRS. S. (_R.C. above table_) Just set his things right out in the hall.
He’s going in a few minutes.
CARRIE. (_Upstairs_) Yes’m! (_Exits upstairs._)
MRS. S. (_Crossing to R. to foot of stairs door and speaks to CARRIE_)
And Carrie—don’t tell Miss Judy. She ain’t heard nothing from him in a
long time and we’ll just fix up a little surprise.
CARRIE. (_Off stage_) No’m.
(_MRS. SEMPLE closes door, as JIMMIE enters L. with mail. MRS. SEMPLE
crosses to R. of table and sits._)
JIMMIE. (_Coming to C. above table_) Hello, Sis! Mail!
SALLIE. (_L. of table_) Oh, did you get a letter for me?
JIMMIE. No! An advertisement for you. (_Gives her large music envelope_)
Gordon’s tired of writing. (_Gives mail, wrapped magazine to MRS.
SEMPLE_) For you, Mrs. Semple! All for Judy. (_Takes remaining letters
up R. and lays them on work-table._)
SALLIE. (_Taking sheet music from envelope_) This is from Gordon. Oh,
it’s a song he wants me to sing. (_Sits at piano._)
JIMMIE. You! Sing a song! Ha! (_To table above MRS. SEMPLE._)
MRS. S. (_Sits R. of table looking over magazine._) And here’s
instalment three of the remarkable serial by that rising young author,
Jerusha Abbott.
JIMMIE. I say, look at the pictures. Aren’t they corkers?
MRS. S. I don’t know how she does it—I couldn’t write a book, not if you
was to pay me for it.
(_JIMMIE turns up to window with a laugh._)
JIMMIE. Oh, by jove—here she is now! (_Crosses and exits L., leaving
door open as JUDY is heard “helloing” off stage. JIMMIE and JUDY carry
on a chatter outside as MRS. SEMPLE goes through her speech with SALLIE
playing the air on piano with a gradual crescendo, ending on the word
“famous” as JUDY steps inside._)
MRS. S. Now, ain’t that grand? To see her name printed right out in
letters half an inch high! I always said that Judy was going to be
_famous_.
(_JUDY enters and comes to L.C., carrying hat in one hand and millinery
bag in other. SALLIE rises as JUDY enters. JIMMIE follows JUDY,
carrying a small market basket, ladened with bundles._)
JUDY. Hello, everybody!
(_JIMMIE crosses behind JUDY and sets basket on table C._)
SALLIE. (_At L._) Good gracious! What’s all that?
JUDY. (_Coming down L. of table, SALLIE to L. of JUDY, JIMMIE L. of MRS.
SEMPLE_) I am September Santa Claus. I’ve brought you all a present from
the village store. (_JUDY removes coat and puts hat and coat on
windowseat._)
JIMMIE. (_Crosses down R._) I like the way you set me to catching
woodchucks. (_JUDY comes down L. of table_) And then go off on a
pleasure drive.
JUDY. When we take a tramp in for the night, we expect him to work for
his board.
MRS. S. What kept you so long? We were afraid old Grover had run away
with you.
JUDY. Oh, I stopped to give the money to old Mrs. Barber. (_Explaining
to JIMMIE_) They’re an awfully poor family, who have had such bad luck.
I wrote to Daddy Long-Legs about them, and he sent me a check for a
hundred dollars for them.
SALLIE. (_Crossing to JUDY, arms around her_) What did she say? Was she
pleased?
JUDY. (_Laughs_) She said, “Thank the Good Lord,” but I told her it
wasn’t the good Lord. It was my Guardian.
MRS. S. But it was the good Lord that put it into his head.
JUDY. (R.) Oh, no, it wasn’t! I put it in his head myself. (_Takes two
haying hats from bag she had placed on the table, as JIMMIE crosses to
table above MRS. SEMPLE_) Look! The latest importations in fall
millinery. One for Sallie and one for Judy, to save the skin on our
noses when we go blackberrying. (_Tries hat on SALLIE, who turns and
crosses over L. to mirror, below staircase, to try on hat herself as
JUDY turns and takes from basket a flour sifter. Holding up sifter_) A
new flour sifter for Mrs. Semple. (_JIMMIE has unwrapped a package
containing pink cambric, which JUDY takes from him_) And last, but not
least—here is some stuff to make aprons for Carrie.
MRS. S. (_Examining the material_) Landsakes! What did you pay for that
a yard?
JUDY. Fifty cents.
MRS. S. Fifty cents! Why didn’t you get blue checked gingham?
JUDY. Oh!
(_JIMMIE crosses to window, twirling mustache. Sits on arm of chair._)
MRS. S. You could of got that for 12 cents a yard.
JUDY. (_Shuddering and turning up, as SALLIE crosses up to JUDY and puts
hat on piano_) Oh!
JIMMIE. (_At R._) I never saw anything so silly, as the way you women
fuss over clothes.
JUDY. (_Facing JIMMIE. SALLIE behind JUDY_) Silly, eh? I heard of
another man who grumbled about women’s clothes being silly, until
finally his wife, to please him—adopted dress reform. And then⸺
JIMMIE. Then what? (_Twirling mustache._)
JUDY. He eloped with a chorus girl. (_Looks of horror from MRS.
SEMPLE._)
MRS. S. Good grief.
SALLIE. Oh, Jimmie, do let that mustache alone. Kill it, but don’t worry
it to death.
(_JIMMIE crosses to SALLIE and they exchange shots in a light tone as
JUDY plays the prelude to the song. SALLIE cautions JIMMIE to be quiet
and stands above JUDY ready to turn pages for her. JIMMIE stands L. of
table, leaning against chair and watching JUDY. MRS. SEMPLE sits back
in her chair R. of table, ready to listen with great satisfaction._)
_SONG “INFAMY”_
JUDY. Where did you get it?
SALLIE. Gordon sent it.
JUDY. (_Crosses to L. of table_) Oh, has the mail come? (_JIMMIE quickly
crosses to R. and returns with letters_) Any letters for me?
JIMMIE. (_To table, sits on table, handing letters to her_) A
million-dollar check from your publishers. (_Takes magazine from table_)
Instalment three of the great American novel by Jerusha Abbott.
JUDY. (_Having looked through letters_) Is this all?
JIMMIE. All! Were you expecting a love letter, too?
JUDY. (_Sitting L. of table_) Don’t be silly, Jimmie! (_Opening one
letter, laying others on table_) I wonder what my publishers have to say
of the idea of my new book.
(_SALLIE sits at piano and softly plays the song._)
JIMMIE. (_C. above table_) What’s the name of your new book?
JUDY. “The Rufus Gaunt Home.”
(_JIMMIE above table, JUDY sits L., MRS. SEMPLE R._)
JIMMIE. “The Rufus Gaunt Home?” That is a cheerful title! Is it an
insane asylum or just a poorhouse?
(_SALLIE looking out window._)
JUDY. It’s—an orphan asylum.
JIMMIE. An orphan asylum? Oh, I say, if you’re going to write a book,
why don’t you choose a subject you know something about?
JUDY. (_Looks up from letter then around to JIMMIE; then slowly faces
front again_) That’s just what my publisher asks.
SALLIE. But wait till he reads it! It’s a beautiful book—isn’t it, Mrs.
Semple?
(_During this scene, JIMMIE devotes all his attention to JUDY._)
MRS. S. Of course it’s beautiful. Everything Miss Judy writes is
beautiful—but I did think the book you wrote that first summer was
grand!
JUDY. (_Laughs_) It was dreadful! When I got back to college I borrowed
the engineer’s furnace. I felt as though I cremated my only child. The
next morning I started a new one. I am an awfully optimistic person. I
think if I lost a husband and seven children I’d bob up the next day and
hunt for a new set.
MRS. S. You can say what you please, but I like hero-ines rich.
JUDY. But my heroine can’t be rich, she is in an asylum.
MRS. S. Are you plumb set on that asylum?
JUDY. Yes, I’m plumb set!
MRS. S. You see the trouble is, nobody will ever want to marry her, if
she’s out of an orphan asylum.
JUDY. Oh!—But she doesn’t get married.
MRS. S. Folks won’t read it unless it’s got a love story.
JIMMIE. You bet! We’ve got to have a love story.
JUDY. But she’s just a little girl. She doesn’t grow up.
MRS. S. I’ll tell you how you can fix it, Miss Judy; if you’re set on
having her an orphan. Get over them troubles in the asylum as fast as
possible, and then discover that she ain’t no orphan at all. She got
stolen out of her cradle when she was a baby, and her father is a real
millionaire, he spends fifteen years searching for his lost daughter,
and he recognizes her by a strawberry mark on her left arm.
JIMMIE. (_Crosses R._) What’s a strawberry mark?
MRS. S. That’s the way you tell lost children.
JIMMIE. Oh!
JUDY. But things don’t happen that way. It wouldn’t be true.
MRS. S. Land sakes! Miss Judy, nobody cares if a book’s true, so long as
it’s comfortable—that’s the way I’d write it. Then you’d oughta make her
grow up, and marry someone real nice like⸺
JIMMIE. (_Down to R. of MRS. SEMPLE_) Like me.
MRS. S. (_Turning to him_) You—never. No—like Mr. Jervis.
JIMMIE. (_Goes R._) Ha! I think I see the proud and haughty Mr.
Pendleton marrying a grimy little orphan out of an asylum. (_Up C. above
table_) No, Judy, I am sorry but I’m afraid we can’t fall in love with
your hero-ine.
CARRIE. (_Enters R. to R. of MRS. SEMPLE_) Mrs. Semple, we are all out
of molasses.
MRS. S. (_Rising_) Oh, Miss Judy, did you forget the molasses? (_Takes
market basket and hands it to CARRIE. NOTE: All the bundles were
replaced in basket as soon as used by JUDY._)
JUDY. (_Rising_) I left the jug in the buggy—Jimmie, would you mind
going down to the barn and getting it?
(_CARRIE has made her exit with the basket; MRS. SEMPLE has taken work
basket from table and crosses to place it on work-table at R._)
JIMMIE. (_Going, mimicing MRS. SEMPLE_) Land sakes! I don’t get no rest!
MRS. S. (_At R., comes back to R.C._) Oh, Miss Judy, we’re going to have
a surprise to-night.
JUDY. (_Crossing to MRS. SEMPLE_) A surprise?
MRS. S. (_Crossing down to door R._) Something you ain’t expecting!
JUDY. (_To chair R. of table_) What is it?
MRS. S. (_Shaking her head_) I ain’t going to tell. (_Goes out R._) I
ain’t going to tell.
(_As MRS. SEMPLE exits, JUDY sits R. of table, facing away from SALLIE
in a sad and dejected mood. A brief pause—and SALLIE turns—notes
JUDY’S attitude._)
SALLIE. (_Rising from piano. Standing above table_) What’s the matter,
Judy? (_Crossing to L. of table_) Don’t worry about what that old
publisher says. He hasn’t even read the book. It’s the best thing you’ve
ever written.
JUDY. (_Standing L._) Because it’s true!
SALLIE. It’s wonderful, Judy—the imagination you have! Why, the
atmosphere of that asylum seems as real as though you’d seen it with
your own eyes. I don’t know how you do it! I couldn’t picture the inside
of an asylum and the way a little orphan girl feels—not if my life
depended on it.
JUDY. (_Slowly rising_) It didn’t require any imagination. Those are the
things that really do happen.
SALLIE. (_To front of table_) Yes, but how, how do you know? (_Sits on
stool, facing JUDY._)
(_JUDY turns away from SALLIE and faces up stage, then suddenly returns
to SALLIE, taking chair and bringing it down and sits a little above
SALLIE._)
JUDY. Oh, Sallie! I want to tell you _the truth_. I can’t stand it any
longer—this pretending and pretending to be something I am not. I don’t
belong with all you other girls, who have homes and families. I try to
be silly and laughing and care-free like the rest of you; but—I’m only
an impostor.
SALLIE. What do you mean?
JUDY. You wondered that I knew so well how the little orphan girl felt.
I knew because—I myself was that little girl.
SALLIE. You!
JUDY. My childhood was one long, sullen stretch of revolt. I was brought
up in an asylum—in blue-checked gingham. Oh, I feel sometimes—(_SALLIE
sympathetically puts her arm on JUDY’S shoulder_)—as if those miserable
checks had stamped themselves on my very soul. And then one
day—suddenly—like a miracle, Daddy Long-Legs came and lifted me out of
all that misery—and gave me freedom and a chance to live. Oh, I was
delirious with joy. I thought every trouble in the world was ended.
SALLIE. I can imagine what it would mean to lose one’s parents.
JUDY. I don’t know what I am or where I came from. Oh, I try to be
sensible and courageous, but I feel sometimes as though I could never
escape from the shadow of my childhood. I dream about it at night, I
wake up shivering in the dark, feeling as though I must run faster and
faster, because Mrs. Lippett is after me with her arm outstretched to
grab me back.
SALLIE. Why, Judy, you’re growing morbid. All this makes no difference.
JUDY. Not with you, perhaps. But to others⸺
SALLIE. Who?
JUDY. Well, do you think Julia Pendleton’s mother would have let her
daughter associate with me if she had known? I know how much they think
of family.
SALLIE. It doesn’t matter what the Pendletons think.
JUDY. And perhaps they know already.
SALLIE. Why?
JUDY. Well—Jervis—Mr. Pendleton used to come here frequently for a few
days’ fishing and he and I became very good friends. We went tramping
and fished for trout, read books together and had such good times. But
for a long while now he has stayed away and I wonder why. Unless—he has
learned the truth. (_Rises._)
SALLIE. (_Rising also_) It doesn’t matter, Judy, he doesn’t count. Some
day some other man will come and ask you to be his wife.
JUDY. And I would have to _tell him_ about the _John Grier Home_.
SALLIE. (_Putting her arm around JUDY’S waist_) He would marry you just
the same.
JUDY. Yes—through kindness perhaps—through pity. But when I told him if
I saw a look of doubt on his face, if I saw the slightest shadow, oh,
Sallie—(_Turning to SALLIE_)—I couldn’t _bear_ it! It would _kill_ me!
(_Sobs and buries her head on SALLIE’S shoulder. SALLIE tenderly mothers
her._)
SALLIE. (_After a pause; lifts JUDY’S head_) Oh, Judy! You speak as
though someone has already come. (_JUDY shakes her head, and slowly
crosses to L._) Has someone already come?
JUDY. (L.C.) No, no! I was only pretending.
SALLIE. (_Following JUDY a step_) But he’ll come and be proud to do so.
You are going to be a famous author.
JUDY. I don’t want fame. (_Crosses to staircase_) I just want—happiness.
SALLIE. (_Crossing to piano_) Poor Judy!
(_JUDY starts upstairs, halting, as MRS. SEMPLE enters at R. and
excitedly crosses up C. to window._)
MRS. S. (_Going up C._) _He’s coming!_
JIMMIE. (_Crosses down to R. and exits with jug_) Yes, here I am.
MRS. S. (_Coming down C. above table after laugh_) No, I don’t mean
you—I mean Master Jervis.
(_JUDY pauses on stairs as JERVIS enters and comes down L. of MRS.
SEMPLE._)
JERVIS. (_Taking her in his arms_) Well, Lizzie, how are you? Bless your
heart.
MRS. S. Bless yours, Master Jervis. The sight of you does my old eyes
good.
JERVIS. (_Taking her face between his hands and kissing her eyes_) Ah!
Bless them—bless them!
SALLIE. (_Left by piano_) How do you do?
JERVIS. (_Crossing to SALLIE_) Ah, Miss McBride—this is an unexpected
pleasure⸺ (_Sees JUDY on the stairs and advances to her. JUDY comes to
meet him and SALLIE crosses at back over to MRS. SEMPLE._)
JUDY. And how are you, Mr. Pendleton?
JERVIS. (_Coming down C. and then front of table_) Mr. Pendleton—oh!
Have I been away so long that Jervis is forgotten?
JUDY. Well, you must admit you’re something of a stranger to our gates.
We began to fear we had been forgotten.
JERVIS. What! May I hope then that I’ve been missed?
MRS. S. (_Up R. Coming down R. of table_) Missed! Why, Master Jervis,
the five weeks you’ve been away seems like an age⸺
JERVIS. (_Crossing to L. of MRS. SEMPLE_) Oh, you flatterer⸺ (_JIMMIE
enters and stands R. of MRS. SEMPLE. A look passes between JIMMIE and
JERVIS_) Oh! And Mr. McBride!
JIMMIE. (_Coming down_) How do you do, sir?
JERVIS. (_As they shake hands_) And you.... (_Crosses to JIMMIE._)
JIMMIE. Nicely, thanks.
MRS. S. Oh, Master Jervis—Mr. McBride shot that woodchuck you tried to
get. You know that one you tried to get—the one that ate up all my young
carrots.
JERVIS. I congratulate Mr. McBride upon succeeding where I failed.
(_Turns and crosses over to JUDY_) No, I shall not presume to hope that
I had been missed. (_JERVIS and JUDY turn up a step above piano as
SALLIE crosses down to L. of JIMMIE._)
SALLIE. Come along, Jimmie—the time has come for you to go⸺ (_Crosses to
L. and upstairs._)
JIMMIE. (_Following SALLIE_) I was thinking that myself.
MRS. S. (_Coming down R._) Oh, Mr. McBride—(_JIMMIE stops at L.C. below
JERVIS and JUDY_)—I told Carrie to put your things out in the hall.
JIMMIE. Eh?
(_SALLIE waits at head of stairs._)
MRS. S. You don’t mind, do you?
JIMMIE. Oh, no, no! Not at all. (_Crosses to foot of stairs—then turns_)
You’re sure you didn’t put them in the _road_?
MRS. S. Oh, no! (_Exits off R._)
SALLIE. Oh! Come on, Jimmie!
(_Exits. JIMMIE on stairs starts to sing dolefully as he goes up and
off, his last line heard off stage._)
JIMMIE. (_Singing_)
I’m coming—I’m coming—
For my head is bending low—
I hear those angel voices calling
(_Off stage, closing door_) Go! Go! Go!
MRS. S. (_Entering R._) Oh, where’s your bag, Master Jervis? Yer old
room is ready for you.
JERVIS. (_Crossing R. to MRS. SEMPLE_) No, no, Lizzie, I haven’t come to
stay.
(_JUDY looks at JERVIS and then slowly turns back to piano._)
_DIM LIGHTS—SUNSET_
MRS. S. Didn’t come to stay?
JERVIS. Well—not this time. (_JUDY sits at piano_) The man who drove me
here is waiting—I must catch the 7:30 train.
(_JUDY plays softly the song she has sung._)
MRS. S. Why, it hardly seems worth while yer coming for so short a time.
JERVIS. Oh, I hope not, Lizzie. (_Looking over his shoulder at JUDY_) I
trust it will prove—oh, so worth while⸺
MRS. S. (_Looks from JERVIS to JUDY and understands why_) Oh! Well,
ye’ll have a cup of tea?
JERVIS. Yes.
MRS. S. And I’ve got some of that jelly cake you used to like when you
were a little boy, Master Jervis. (_Exits R._)
(_JERVIS, closing door after her and turning slowly at door, looking
across to JUDY. JUDY has finished playing, rises and looks across at
JERVIS. JERVIS breaks the scene._)
JERVIS. (_Moves chair. Crossing up to R. of table, JUDY going to L. of
table_) Well, Judy, it seems to me I’ve been away so long I’m sure there
is much to tell me. How are affairs at Lock Willow? How’s old Grover?
JUDY. Well⸺
JERVIS. Cautious and sedate as ever?
JUDY. (_Sitting L. of table_) The same.
JERVIS. And how’s the new book? How’s that progressing?
JUDY. Cautiously, too, like old Grover, under the restraining influence
of my publisher.
JERVIS. Oh, that’s not fair. Your imagination should have free rein.
JUDY. It’s flattering to know that—you still take interest in our small
affairs.
JERVIS. I shall never cease to do that, not for a single moment.
JUDY. That is difficult to believe.
JERVIS. And why?
JUDY. Well—five weeks away and not a word or sign or token.
JERVIS. Yet every moment of those weeks you’ve been in my thoughts. I
went away, I stayed away because of something I had learned.
JUDY. (_Apprehensively_) About me?
JERVIS. Concerning both of us—the truth of which has forced itself upon
me, and it became a problem I’ve been trying hard to solve.
JUDY. A problem? How⸺
JERVIS. (_Sitting R. of table_) A conflict of my heart and mind in which
I can find no peace. And so I’ve come back to ask that you decide. The
freedom of our comradeship has gone and I am a dependent now upon your
answer. I love you, Judy.
JUDY. Jervis!
_WARN_
JERVIS. With a love so deep, so great that it overpowers what the
world would call my sense of right, but how could I help it? You came
into my gray existence like a spirit of Spring and sunshine, bringing
to it an interest that I had never known. But the difference of our
years forbade that I should recognize the truth and so I deceived
myself that your friendship was my sole desire. And the play-time of
my life began. And then the thought thrust itself upon me that I was
deceiving _you_. My reason mocked and ridiculed my love. That I, past
youth, should offer youth the remnant of a life ... and so I went away
to fight it out alone. I feared perhaps your sympathy might lead you
into that greatest sacrifice, a loveless marriage. Then hope
transformed me with the thought that in my great love, you might find
some measure of content. And so, quite conquered, beaten in the
struggle between my reason and my love, I ask your aid, remembering
always that beyond all else your own happiness is at stake. Have no
thought of the hurt that might come to me, and yet, if somewhere in
your heart there is a spark of feeling for me that my devotion might
warm into a glow of love, oh, give me the blessed chance to try—and
so, dear heart, I’m waiting—fearing—hoping—will you be my wife?
(_Pause._)
JUDY. (_Shaking her head slowly_) I cannot—I cannot!
_WARNING CURTAIN_
JERVIS. (_Rising_) Oh, Judy, are you sure? Is there something that I
cannot hope to put aside?
JUDY. (_Rises, her back turned to him, slowly_) Yes.
JERVIS. (_Goes back of table. Looks upstairs with thought of JIMMIE_) I
think I understand. And so the sun of all my happiness has set.
JUDY. (_Crosses to piano—murmurs in suffering_) Oh, please—please⸺!
JERVIS. (_Back of JUDY_) I know, I know, I’m a coward. Forget my folly
in speaking to you of this. I should have known. (_Takes hat from table
and crosses to L. of JUDY_) Tell them all I could not stay. Make some
excuse for me, and some day when my reason reigns supreme let me come
back to you, dear comrade—till then, God bless and keep you,
Judy—always, always, always! (_Turns and slowly goes up and off U.L._)
(_JUDY is at piano and as JERVIS goes off, sinks to her knees and throws
herself on chair below piano, crying bitterly as curtain descends._)
CURTAIN
ACT IV
SCENE: _MR. PENDLETON’S library, two months later. A plan and full
description of the scene will be found at the end of the play._
AT RISE: _GRIGGS is discovered at the desk, engaged in writing. When
curtain is well up, the doorbell is heard ringing off R. A pause,
and the MAID crosses at back from L. to R. A moment later, MISS
PRITCHARD enters at C. The MAID follows MISS PRITCHARD and exits off
L. MISS PRITCHARD goes down back of table._
MISS PRITCHARD. How do you do, Mr. Griggs?
GRIGGS. (_Rising on MISS PRITCHARD’S entrance_) Miss Pritchard! Good
afternoon!
MISS P. How is Mr. Pendleton? (_To L. of table, sits._)
GRIGGS. The wound is entirely healed. But he doesn’t improve as much as
we could wish. He’s very low in spirits!
MISS P. I am so sorry! I’ve been away, and I only just heard about the
accident this morning. How did it happen?
GRIGGS. It happened four weeks ago, on a hunting trip in Canada. The gun
exploded and he got his hand poisoned.
MISS P. How dreadful! Is he able to see people?
GRIGGS. He’ll be able to see you, Miss Pritchard. You’re such an old
friend, but he’s hardly strong enough for relatives yet.
MISS P. Where is he?
GRIGGS. Well, the doctor’s with him just at this moment—if you don’t
mind waiting⸺
MISS P. Not in the least. But I’ve been shopping all the afternoon, and
I’m nearly famished. (_Rises_) I think I’ll beg a cup of tea from the
housekeeper. (_Turns as if to go, and GRIGGS turns to desk to ring bell
for housekeeper_) Oh, don’t trouble. I know the way. She and I are old
friends! (_Crosses up to C., and GRIGGS turns to desk to resume writing.
MISS PRITCHARD turns at C._) Oh, Mr. Griggs, I asked a young lady to
meet me here. Should she come, will you please let me know?
GRIGGS. Certainly. (_Sits at desk._)
(_MISS PRITCHARD exits off C. and L. and WALTERS comes downstairs and
into the room._)
WALTERS. (_Up stage R. of arch_) Oh, Mr. Griggs—the doctor is just
going! And Mr. Pendleton is coming down.
(_JERVIS comes downstairs, preceded by DOCTOR. They stand at foot of
stairs as WALTERS exits R. to open door for DOCTOR._)
JERVIS. (_Shaking hands with DOCTOR_) All right, Doctor, I’ll behave.
I’ll follow directions—good-bye! (_DOCTOR exits off R. and JERVIS comes
into the room C. He wears a long dressing gown, and is pale and somewhat
irritable_) Oh, good afternoon, Griggs!
GRIGGS. (_Crossing to R. of JERVIS_) Good afternoon, Mr. Pendleton. I
trust you are feeling better.
(_WALTERS crosses at back and goes upstairs off L._)
JERVIS. Yes, yes! Thanks! A good deal better. (_Crossing to armchair
front of fire._)
GRIGGS. (_Crossing to desk R. for papers_) Do you feel able to take up
the matter of those bonds?
JERVIS. No, not just yet. But there is a matter I wish to discuss. You
remember that several months ago I spoke to you about settling a certain
definite sum upon Miss Abbott?
GRIGGS. Yes, sir, I remember.
JERVIS. That was before my accident, and I’ve not yet had a chance to
arrange the matter. I want you to look up some good securities.
Something paying about six per cent, you know, stability—that’s what I
want! You understand?
GRIGGS. Yes, sir, I understand. I’ll make a list.
JERVIS. Be good enough to attend to that immediately. And, Griggs, I
want you to take down a letter—(_GRIGGS takes note-book from desk and
comes to C. above table, ready to receive notes_)—to Miss Abbott.
Something to the effect that Mr. Smith has been led to believe that she
is considering the question of marriage with Mr. James McBride, and
that, if her happiness is at stake, he approves of the step, and wishes
her every joy. Then put in a word about Mr. Smith’s belief that a
married woman ought to be independent of her husband in financial
matters; and that he has created a little trust fund which he sends as a
wedding present. Say he feels that with her final settlement in life,
his own share in her career is at an end. That he thanks her for the
four years of charming letters she has been good enough to send and with
this final expression of his esteem he begs to remove his shadowy
presence from her life. Sign it—(_WALTERS comes downstairs with tray and
medicine to L. of table_)—and bring it to me to look over. (_Sinks into
armchair as though exhausted. He seems in a moment to have become the
old man that JUDY thinks him._)
GRIGGS. And you’ll attend later to the matter of those bonds?
JERVIS. Yes, yes, that’s all just now. I’m not up to much business yet.
(_GRIGGS up and exits off L. WALTERS comes down to R. of armchair. On
tray he has a medicine bottle, partly filled, a glass and a medicine
graduate._)
WALTERS. Your medicine, sir.
JERVIS. (_Very quietly_) Take it away! It doesn’t do any good!
WALTERS. But, if you please, sir, the doctor said⸺
JERVIS. (_Rising, crossing to R. of table_) Oh, take it away!
WALTERS. (_Following him to R._) Now, Mr. Jervis, you should have taken
it at four o’clock. It’s half past now, and the other kind comes at
five. It isn’t best to mix them, sir. They ought to come in layers.
(_Places tray on corner of table. The drinking glass placed handily for
JERVIS. Sits R. of table._)
JERVIS. Walters, you’re a good man, but you’re obstinate. Now, when I
say a thing, I mean it. (_Sits R. of table._)
WALTERS. (_With patient persistency_) But Mr. Jervis, you promised the
doctor that if he’d let the nurse go, you wouldn’t make any trouble for
me. (_Takes graduate in left hand and bottle in right._)
JERVIS. (_Rises and takes glass in R. hand_) Oh, very well.
WALTERS. (_Starting to pour medicine_) One teaspoon, sir. Just one.
(_JERVIS takes bottle from WALTERS and begins to pour the contents into
the glass, then drinks it as the horrified WALTERS takes bottle from
him, remonstrating. JERVIS sets glass on the tray and turns to
WALTERS._)
JERVIS. There! I have taken the whole lot. Now, I hope you’re satisfied.
Don’t let me hear the word “medicine” again! (_Sits R. of table, WALTERS
takes tray and crosses to L. of C. and exits L. as JULIA enters C. from
L. of JERVIS, and WALTERS exits off L._)
JULIA. (_Behind JERVIS, kissing him on cheek over L. shoulder_) Hello,
Uncle Jervis! (_Crossing to R._) Feeling better?
JERVIS. (_Surprised_) How did you get in?
JULIA. Through the basement—along with the butcher. You are going to
have chicken for dinner.
JERVIS. Umph! Thanks!
JULIA. That brute of a Walters will never let me in.
JERVIS. He has orders.
JULIA. This is the third time I’ve called. And your own relative.
JERVIS. Julia, I’m not well enough to talk, the doctor says I have to
keep quiet.
JULIA. You can’t fool me. You see lots of people. You are just cross.
JERVIS. (_Rising_) Yes, that’s it—I’m cross! I am not fit company for
anyone! (_Crossing to L. of table and sits_) Now you run along.
JULIA. (_Crosses to R. of JERVIS, above table_) Ah, nunkey, don’t be
cross. I won’t bother you. But I want your advice about something
important. I want you to talk to mother.
JERVIS. No—no! I’m not strong enough to talk to your mother.
JULIA. Oh, please, Uncle Jervis, it’s very important! Please!
JERVIS. Well, well, what is it?
JULIA. (_Resting on chair L. of table_) Mother’s picked out someone
_she_ wants me to marry.
JERVIS. Well, marry him!
JULIA. But I don’t like him!
JERVIS. Why don’t you like him?
JULIA. Well, he’s got a long mustache that looks like a chicken wing,
and no chin.
JERVIS. Very well, don’t marry him!
JULIA. And _I’ve_ picked out exactly the man I _do want_ to marry.
JERVIS. Very well, then marry him.
JULIA. Mother doesn’t think he’s good enough to marry me.
JERVIS. Nonsense! Anybody’s good enough to marry you.
JULIA. (_Rising and crossing to his L._) Uncle Jervis! (_Cross L._)
JERVIS. No, no—I don’t mean that!
JULIA. I tell you now if she doesn’t let me, I’ll elope.
JERVIS. Yes, please elope!
JULIA. Yes, but I don’t want to elope. (_Sits on arm of armchair._)
JERVIS. Why don’t you want to elope?
JULIA. I want some wedding presents.
JERVIS. If you’ll only elope, and leave me alone, I’ll give you a
wedding present. I’ll give you twenty presents. (_Crosses R._)
JULIA. Yes, but won’t you talk to mother?
JERVIS. What’s her objection?
JULIA. Well, his father owns a factory.
JERVIS. A factory?
JULIA. Yes—makes—overalls.
JERVIS. (_Puzzled_) Overalls?
JULIA. Yes—you know! Things that wind up and over. Mother doesn’t think
they’re nice!
JERVIS. What’s his name?
JULIA. Jimmie McBride.
JERVIS. (_Rising_) Did he ask you?
JULIA. (_Laughing_) Yes, of course he did.
JERVIS. (_Turning front_) I don’t understand⸺
JULIA. Oh, I see. You thought he was heart-broken over Judy Abbott. He
liked her. She’s a nice girl, but he’s in love with me.
JERVIS. (_Shakes hands vigorously_) Well, I’m delighted to hear it! Now
you run on and elope.
JULIA. Yes, but the wedding presents?
JERVIS. (_Swings her around to R. of him_) I’ll give you all the wedding
presents you want if you’ll only elope.
JULIA. (_Working up C. to C.L._) I’ll take a country house⸺
JERVIS. Yes.
JULIA. A pearl necklace⸺
JERVIS. Yes, yes!
JULIA. And a touring car!
JERVIS. Anything you want, but for goodness’ sake elope!
(_MISS PRITCHARD enters to R. of JULIA at C._)
JULIA. (_Turning to MISS PRITCHARD_) Oh, Miss Pritchard! Don’t stay.
He’s in a dreadful temper!
JERVIS. Oh, yes—please stay!
JULIA. Oh!—Well, good-bye, Mr. Bear—and don’t forget my presents. (_She
exits up and off R._)
(_MISS PRITCHARD crosses to JERVIS, shaking hands._)
JERVIS. This is a pleasure!
MISS P. You’re sure I won’t tire you?
JERVIS. (_Sits R._) Tire me—no—no! Here—sit down! (_Crossing to
armchair_) I’m already tired to death of my own company. (_Swings
armchair around to face chair L. of table_) Another week of this and
I’ll be strangling Walters, just for the sake of a little excitement.
(_MISS PRITCHARD crosses and sits in armchair_) You don’t mind if I
prowl about? (_Crosses over to R._) I’ve been shut up so long that I
feel like a caged hyena. (_Crosses up back to C. behind table._)
MISS P. I hear that Julia’s engaged⸺
JERVIS. And I thought he was interested in our little Judy!
JERVIS. The same idea crossed my mind.
MISS P. Jervis! (_He faces her. Crosses to her. She rises_) I came to
talk to you about Judy.
JERVIS. Yes?
MISS P. (_Crossing to him eagerly_) Are you sure I won’t bore you?
JERVIS. No, no! Sit down! Please go on! (_MISS PRITCHARD sits L. of
table and JERVIS at fireplace._)
MISS P. She’s not happy!
JERVIS. What’s the matter?
MISS P. She is brooding over something.
JERVIS. It’s that young McBride. If that confounded young cub⸺
(_Rising._)
MISS P. No. I’ve seen his sister and I know it’s not that.
JERVIS. What is it, then?
MISS P. Jervis, I’m going to talk to you quite frankly.
JERVIS. (_Sits again_) Go on, say anything you like!
MISS P. Well, then—I think you have been very much in the wrong in your
dealings with Judy.
JERVIS. What more could I do?
MISS P. I don’t mean as her guardian—John Smith—Daddy Long-Legs—whatever
you wish to call yourself—I am speaking of your behavior in your own
character, as Jervis Pendleton.
JERVIS. What have I done?
MISS P. You have been playing a double part. As Judy’s guardian you made
her spend her vacation on that farm. Then as Jervis Pendleton, you went
and visited her.
JERVIS. You’re not insinuating⸺
MISS P. I’m not insinuating. I know that you have been very unthoughtful
of her happiness!
JERVIS. I’ve thought of nothing else for four years!
MISS P. Yes, to you it meant nothing, but you were simply amused in
watching the child’s development.
JERVIS. My dear lady⸺
MISS P. But it was very unfair to Judy. She is an abnormally
inexperienced child. She has been shut away from the world all her life,
and then to be thrown with a man like you⸺
JERVIS. Like me?
MISS P. With your knowledge of the world—your experience. It’s a type
that is very fascinating to a young girl!
JERVIS. I? Fascinating? Why, I’m old and world-weary and done for.
Little Judy is standing on the edge of life. What chance would I have of
interesting her?
MISS P. Of course I know it’s impossible. A girl of her antecedents⸺
JERVIS. That’s nothing to me and you know it. I don’t care where she
comes from—Judy is herself, that’s all I care! But this is beside the
point. The girl is not interested in me, except as she is interested in
every human being.
MISS P. I am not sure!
JERVIS. I am! You have let your imagination run away with you.
MISS P. On one thing I am going to insist. She must know the truth about
Daddy Long-Legs!
JERVIS. Why spoil her illusions? She looks upon me as a nice, fatherly
old man. I am neither quite so nice, nor quite so fatherly as she
thinks.
MISS P. This mystery has gone too far!
JERVIS. Don’t you see the position you place me in? She already knows me
as a friend. I can’t appear now as a benefactor, demanding gratitude and
a reward.
MISS P. I understand. (_Rises_) Jervis, last week she sent her guardian
a letter.
JERVIS. Why, she hasn’t sent a word in two months.
MISS P. Begging him to advise her about something important.
JERVIS. Are you sure?
MISS P. Yes.
JERVIS. (_Starts_) I’ve never received it. They’ve been keeping my
letters back. (_Rises, and starts to cross R. to ring for GRIGGS. MISS
PRITCHARD places restraining hand on his arm._)
MISS P. It doesn’t matter, Jervis. She can tell you what it was herself.
JERVIS. What do you mean?
MISS P. After talking with Sallie McBride, I determined to take matters
into my own hands, and yesterday I sent a telegram to Judy, asking her
to meet me here to-day.
JERVIS. Here!
MISS P. And now you must tell her the truth!
JERVIS. No—not to-day!
MISS P. Yes—to-day. She should be here now at any moment.
JERVIS. (_Alarmed, sits on table_) I’m a sick man.
MISS P. Jervis Pendleton! (_GRIGGS enters from L. and crosses down R. to
desk, for note-book on table_)—you’re a coward!
JERVIS. (_Sees GRIGGS and turns_) Oh, Griggs, did a letter come last
week for John Smith? (_Crossing to C._)
GRIGGS. Why, yes, sir.
JERVIS. (_Crossing to R. of table_) Why wasn’t it given to me at once?
GRIGGS. (_Taking letter from drawer of desk_) I’m sorry, sir. Doctor’s
orders, and I forgot to call your attention to it this morning.
(_JERVIS snatches letter from him and hastily opens it, crossing over L.
to MISS PRITCHARD. GRIGGS to R. of table, awaiting instructions._)
MISS P. (_As JERVIS crosses to her_) Now, we shall see—(_JERVIS stops
and MISS PRITCHARD not wishing to presume_)—unless⸺
JERVIS. (_L. of table_) Oh, no, no! (_Motions her to be seated. Turns
and notes GRIGGS’ presence and dismisses him_) That’s all, Griggs,
that’s all! (_GRIGGS goes up and off L. JERVIS sits L. of table. He
opens letter and reads aloud to MISS PRITCHARD._)
“Dearest Daddy Long-Legs,
“For four years you have stood in the background brooding
over my life, and I have loved you very much, but I want to
see you. I want to touch your hand, I want to know that you
are real.
“Something has happened and I need your advice. Maybe you
know where I came from? Maybe you know who I am? You must
tell me the truth, even if it’s dreadful. I’d rather know
than imagine. It’s very important that I should know; for
perhaps it will change my whole life. May I tell you a
secret, Daddy dear? I love another man besides you.”
(_A look between JERVIS and MISS PRITCHARD. JERVIS hastily continues._)
“But he comes from a family all full of ancestors—and I’ve
never had the courage to tell him about the John Grier
Home....”
(_MISS PRITCHARD begins occasionally to dab her eyes with
handkerchief._)
“I let him go away believing that I didn’t care. And now I
miss him and miss him and miss him! The whole world seems
empty and aching. I hate the moonlight because it’s
beautiful and he is not here to see it with me.”
(_MISS PRITCHARD is affected by the reading, and JERVIS tries to conceal
his emotion._)
“Yesterday I heard that he has had an accident”—
(_Pause. Looks at his hand, then to MISS PRITCHARD._)
—“and has been very ill....”
(_Looks at MISS PRITCHARD and hastily continues._)
“I know he is unhappy, and I have been thinking, maybe—I
ought not to let anything in the world stand between us.
But, of course, I may be wrong, because I had a funny
bringing up. May I come and talk with you just once? I will
never, never bother you again.
“Yours always,
“JUDY.”
(_JERVIS rises slowly and MISS PRITCHARD also. JERVIS looks at her. MISS
PRITCHARD is weeping. JERVIS, feeling he must do something in his joy,
hugs MISS PRITCHARD. JERVIS laughing—MISS PRITCHARD crying—and after a
pause, JERVIS’S eyes fall upon the postscript._)
Hello! What’s this postscript?
“Have you a butler? I am afraid of butlers”—
(_Another look at MISS PRITCHARD. WALTERS enters with tray, comes C.
above table._)
“and I don’t know who to ask for at the door.”
(_He squares his shoulders as if throwing off a weight. He is happy,
excited and full of energy._)
WALTERS. Your medicine, sir.
JERVIS. (_Turning to him_) What do I want with medicine? (_Crosses over
to R. WALTERS, looking at him in blank amazement_) I’m tired of this
invalid business. (_To MISS P._) Will you excuse me while I get in some
clothes suitable for a smart young chap like me? Take it yourself! (_He
runs out and upstairs while WALTERS stares after him in horrified
bewilderment._)
WALTERS. Do you think—it’s dangerous?
MISS P. (_Crossing up C., laughing_) Don’t worry, Walters, he’ll
recover. (_Exits L._)
(_As MISS PRITCHARD exits, WALTERS crosses to L. to armchair. GRIGGS
enters to C._)
GRIGGS. Oh, Walters! Where’s Mr. Pendleton?
WALTERS. He’s gone out⸺
GRIGGS. Gone out?
_READY BELL_
WALTERS. Of his mind, sir. (_Swings armchair around to face the fire._)
GRIGGS. (_Crosses to desk at R. and places typed letter to JUDY on the
desk_) Oh, Walters, please call Mr. Pendleton’s attention to this on his
return.
(_Bell rings off R. and MAID crosses L. to R. at back._)
WALTERS. Certainly, sir. (_Goes to mantel as GRIGGS exits off L._)
(_A pause—and the MAID returns, followed by JUDY._)
MAID. (_Up C., motioning JUDY into the room_) I’ll let Miss Pritchard
know you’re here!
(_LIGHTS. Dim Foots. Take 5 minutes to end of act._)
JUDY. Thank you. (_MAID exits off L. and JUDY comes down into room,
looking around wonderingly. WALTERS is at mantel, back turned to JUDY
and concealed by the armchair. JUDY comes to R. of table and looks
around to L., as WALTERS turns towards her. His head and shoulders are
visible to JUDY and she is startled, thinking it to be “Daddy
Long-Legs”_) You—you are⸺
[Illustration: Walters stands in front of Judy, who leans nervously
against the armchair]
WALTERS. (_Stepping below chair_) The butler, Miss. (_JUDY, frightened,
turns to go up C.L. and WALTERS crosses to chair L. of table_) Who is it
you wish to see, please?
JUDY. (_Coming down R. of table_) Oh, I wish to see Mr.—Mr.—er⸺ How is
the old gentleman?
WALTERS. (_Startled_) The old—old—oh, yes, Miss! He’s far from well.
JUDY. Oh, I’m so sorry. I haven’t heard—I hope it isn’t serious?
WALTERS. (_To L.C., above table_) He’s pretty bad, Miss. He can’t seem
to pick up.
JUDY. Oh, and, of course, at his age he must be very feeble?
WALTERS. Feeble, Miss? (_Turning and looking upstairs, then turning back
to JUDY_) Well, not exactly feeble, Miss—er—between ourselves, he’s a
little bit out of his head!
JUDY. (_Troubled, stepping back to R._) Oh! I’m so sorry! Why—who⸺
(_MISS PRITCHARD enters C., crosses down to JUDY, as WALTERS sees MISS
PRITCHARD and goes up and off L._)
MISS P. (_Embracing JUDY_) Judy, dear! (_Takes JUDY’S furs and puts them
on desk and turns to her_) You’re late! Did you have any trouble finding
the house? (_Sits at desk._)
JUDY. Oh, no, the taxicab brought me straight to the door, but when I
got here I was afraid to ring the bell. I walked twice around the block
to get up my courage—but I needn’t have been afraid. The butler is such
a nice fatherly old man.
MISS P. (_JUDY bus. Spotlight from lower R. through window—focussed
before rise and thrown up stage—covers JUDY_) Did my telegram surprise
you?
JUDY. (_Sits R. of table_) If I live to be ninety-nine, I shall never
forget how surprised I was when I read that message.—Yesterday, before
it came, I was feeling so discouraged and unhappy and down, as though
all the light had gone out of the world for me—and then—when I learned
that I was to see Daddy Long-Legs! He has made things right for me
before—maybe he can do it again! Oh, I was so excited that I couldn’t
sleep last night—not a single wink. Mrs. Semple called me this morning
at four o’clock. I ate breakfast in the kitchen by candle light, and
drove five miles to the station through the most glorious October dawn.
The sun came up and all of the trees were crimson, and the cornfields
and stone walls covered with frost—the air was so clear and keen and
promising. I just felt something was going to happen! And all the way in
the train, the rails kept singing: “You’re going to see Daddy Long-Legs!
You’re going to see Daddy Long-Legs!” And all the time I had the feeling
that maybe before the journey ended, I should see someone else—someone
dearer—dearer than Daddy.... (_She turns to hide her tears from MISS
PRITCHARD, who rises and crosses to her._)
MISS P. (_Tenderly_) My dear!
(_JUDY turns to her and observes portrait over the mantel. Crosses over
to L. of table to get a better look and observes a resemblance, slowly
turns around to MISS PRITCHARD._)
JUDY. Why—whose portrait is that?
MISS P. (_To R. of table_) That is his brother. (_JUDY turns back to
picture_) His eldest brother who is dead.
JUDY. (_To MISS PRITCHARD_) Daddy Long-Legs’ brother?
(_JERVIS starts to descend stairs._)
MISS P. Yes.
JUDY. (_Turning to picture again_) Strange!—(_JERVIS swings down into
room to R. without observing JUDY. MISS PRITCHARD crosses up to JERVIS
and meets him a little above R. of table. Tenderly indicates JUDY’S
presence and quietly exits off L. JERVIS comes down to R. of table, on
line with JUDY_)—it looks so like—so very—so _very_—(_Turns to MISS
PRITCHARD_)—like—(_Sees JERVIS_)—Jervis! (_Drops her head._)
_DIM MORE_
JERVIS. Judy!
JUDY. Why are you here?
JERVIS. (_Playfully_) Why are you here?
JUDY. I came to see Daddy Long-Legs.
JERVIS. And have you seen him?
_WARN CURTAIN_
JUDY. No. (_Raising her head and looking at him and noticing his pallor,
and taking a step to C._) Oh, you’ve been ill?
JERVIS. (_Taking a step to R. of JUDY_) Yes, and quite a little sad.
JUDY. (_Again with head drooping_) I’m sorry.
JERVIS. (_Tenderly_) Oh, Judy! Judy! Why did you send me away from you?
JUDY. (_Turning from him_) Please, please don’t ask me why!
JERVIS. May Daddy Long-Legs know?
JUDY. Yes—he knows.
JERVIS. Oh, my dear, my dear, and did you think my love for you so mean
that a matter of your birth could make me pause? You are you—that’s all
I ask, my great, my only need⸺
JUDY. My birth—then—you know?
JERVIS. I have known it always—always—since I first heard a child’s
voice crying out for freedom. From the day a careless hand threw in her
path a grain of hope—a grain which lodged in the richness of her soul
and grew before his watchful eyes, into a wondrous flower....
JUDY. (_Turning to him_) Then—you are⸺
JERVIS. Oh, Judy, couldn’t you have guessed that _I was Daddy
Long-Legs_?
(_JUDY slowly raises her eyes to his and reads the great meaning as
JERVIS puts his arms around her and gathers her in embrace—as the
curtain descends._)
CURTAIN
------------------------------------------------------------------------
ACT I
SCENE: _The scene shows the dining-room of the John Grier Home. A bare,
dreary room with plastered walls. Main entrance at C. leading into a
bare hall outside. R. of C. is a large cupboard; partly opened;
shelves covered with cheap fringed paper and filled with plates;
dishes and earthenware crocks. On the lowest shelf is a black
paste-board box containing white muslin caps and aprons. R. of
cupboard is an entrance leading into the pantry, at back a low shelf
on which are various kitchen pans. At lower R. is an entrance
leading to children’s department. Above it another entrance with
door leading to kitchen. Entrances lower R., back R. and C. are open
entrances. At L. are two large windows through which is seen the
porch outside and the yard beyond._
_The room is furnished with four long tables, two R. of C. are
placed across stage R. to L. Two L. of C. are placed up and down
stage. Table L. of C. is lower, for the smaller children.
Dimensions, 8 × 2, stand 22 inches high, other tables 8 × 2 stand 28
inches high, benches on each side of tables, and stools at end, 18
in. high. Benches and stools for small table 14 in. high. The tables
are covered with white marble oil-cloth and rest on horses. The
tables are set for the next meal. A large soup-plate, cup and
soup-spoon at each plate. 14 at a table. On each table a large
salt-cellar. Table L. of C. down stage is cleared and a dish-pan
with polishing rags and soap placed there for the orphans to clean
the teaspoons for the Trustees’ tea. On lower table R. at L. end is
a tray containing cups, saucers and sugar bowl to be sent to the
Trustees’ room. Salt-cellar on this table filled with sugar, not
salt._
_The only decoration in the room is a large lettered illumined
text, painted over door at C. “The Lord will provide.”_
_The light at rise is of late afternoon dimmed at cue to dark
evening and coming up a little as MRS. LIPPETT turns on bracket
lights. Off stage at R. 2 E. is a table. On table a tray containing
two plates of bread sandwiches for Judy, also napkins and dish of
sliced lemons for MRS. LIPPETT._
ACT II
_THE SCENE shows a prettily furnished college study. At C. back is a
large bay window flanked by smaller windows R. and L., through which
is seen the college campus and country beyond. R. of window at R. is
the entrance into the room, the door opening on and down stage. A
hall at rear, leading off R. At R. middle of plot, a door opening
off into JUDY’S room and above it, L., a door opening off into
SALLIE’S room._
_Between doors L. is JUDY’S desk, with chair. This desk is well
arranged. Over it a small sign stolen from some store by the girls,
reading “We study to please.” Above the sign a large framed picture
of Mona Lisa. On wall above upper door L. is tacked a college poster
of the Freshmen’s Tree ceremonies. Under window L. of C. is a round
table on which is a tea tray containing cups, saucers, spoons,
teapot, cream pitcher and empty sugar bowl. Also a spirit lamp,
empty alcohol bottle and empty box of matches. L. of this table a
couch and pillows in disorder. Under R. end of couch the kettle.
Over couch, tacked on wall, is a Princeton college pennant. Above
couch, fastened on wall, a bookcase with books. On wall above case
hangs a large rabbit’s head (papier mache). At C. a large bureau
with upholstered top sets in the box window. Drawers to open like
steps. On top, pillow, books and a memorandum case are scattered,
later put in top drawer by JULIA. A large, ornamental Japanese
lantern hangs above in C. Shade curtains on windows, with draperies
in front on all windows. C. draperies hang to floor, side draperies
to window length. On side window sills, small vases filled with
spring field flowers. Before window R. of C., SALLIE’S desk, in wild
disorder, with chair. R. of desk an oak armchair with one short leg,
the “wobbly” chair. Above chair a large picture of Sir Galahad.
Tacked on wall at window, a college poster of “Field Day” with an
illustration of JUDY running C., copied from book (Daddy Long-Legs).
Above SALLIE’S desk a small stolen sign, “No smoking allowed.” Over
door at back a larger stolen sign, “Our success is not mere talk.”
On door outside an old-fashioned brass knocker. Below door at R. is
JULIA’S desk, also in disorder, and chair. Another single chair a
little L. and up from this desk. On door R. a poster of the
Sophomore’s Cotillion. On wall R. and L. of door R. a large
picture._
_At C. on floor a pretty medallion rug, about 12 × 15. At R. of
rug from C. a large inkspot about a foot in diameter. At C. to left
a combination flat-topped desk with shelves at R. and L. R. of table
a large rattan armchair with hour-glass shaped bottom, caned to
floor, concealing inkspot later. An oak armchair L. of desk. On
shelf L. of desk, a tobacco jar, skull, with two aged lemons. Also a
pair of scissors. On shelf R. of table, a small book for JUDY. Cover
on desk and it is covered with a heterogeneous mass of vases, books,
ink bottles, tennis balls and a pair of fencing foils. Chair R. of
desk has a sweater and tennis racquet, and a feather duster for
SALLIE. On floor by inkspot are a couple of girls’ out-of-door coats
and a note-book. On chair L. of desk is a fencing mask, a basket
ball, a tennis racquet, a tam-o’-shanter, also child’s sweeping
broom for JULIA. On chair by JUDY’S desk a golf bag with sticks._
_Off L.I.E. is a small crash and an extra cover for C. table, same
material as one on stage which JULIA takes on after crash avoiding
waste of time. Also a gown for JUDY. On table off stage back R. a
table with box of candy for JERVIS, card and tray for maid, plate of
buns for MRS. PENDLETON, cup of sugar for JIMMIE, cup of tea for
SALLIE and kettle of hot water and box of tea biscuits for JULIA._
ACT III
SCENE: _The sitting room at Lock Willow Farm._
_The room is that of an old-fashioned New England farmhouse, flat
ceiling to mid-stage, and then sloping down at back. A large window
at center with cushioned seat, through which is seen the garden
outside, a stone wall beyond, and in the distance, a rolling
landscape of Connecticut._
_A jut at left extends on about one-quarter of stage to L. of C.
L. and down stage to about 7 feet from curtain line. In front of jut
at lower L. presenting a side view to audience a short flight of
stairs with white spindle posts and mahogany rail lead to a door
opening off stage to the living rooms above. At upper L. side of jut
is the main door leading into the yard. At the lower R. is a door
opening of the kitchen._
_A fireplace at middle right, filled with ferns and goldenrod. An
old-fashioned, three-cornered colonial cupboard in upper R. corner.
The walls are covered with a soft-shaded cretonne of green and white
stripes, blended with a small rose pattern of flowers. The doors,
windows, fireplace and all woodwork are in ivory white, and a
mahogany baseboard extending around the room._
_The furniture is all old colonial mahogany. A mahogany drop-leaf
table at C., a lacquered single chair at R. of table, an armchair at
L. and a mahogany upholstered stool below table. An old cashmere
covering on table, and an old-fashioned inlaid desk with writing
materials on table for SALLIE._
_At R. in front of mantel, an upholstered mahogany armchair with
tidy. At R. above mantel a square work-table; a small work-basket on
table. At L. of cupboard an armchair, L. of window a what-not filled
with shells, vases, and odds and ends of ornaments. At stage L. a
small mahogany upright piano, with single mahogany chair and
cushioned seat for JUDY. Music on piano. Below piano another single
chair. At lower L. below stairs a small mahogany card-table, leaf
raised against wall. On table an old clock and pair of old-fashioned
silver candlesticks with partly burned candles. Over table, an old
mahogany mirror._
_In lower front side of jut—on wall, on a diagonal line with
staircase are hung some old family silhouettes. Over piano (on side
wall of jut) hangs an oil painting of JERVIS PENDLETON at the age of
four. Above piano near door hangs an old framed engraving of George
Washington. Over what-not at L. back hangs a large engraving of Gen.
Grant and family, flanked by smaller old framed pictures of Lincoln
and Jackson. At L. back between window and cupboard hangs a colored
Martha Washington and below a small engraving of Washington at
Valley Forge. Over mantel at C. hangs an old-fashioned, oblong
mirror, with top picture panel. On either side of mirror hangs
old-fashioned life-size crayons in oval frames of MR. and MRS.
SEMPLE. On either side of fireplace, flanking the SEMPLE pictures,
are small characteristic pictures of colonial subjects. An old
copper warming pan hangs at lower end of fireplace._
_A large rag medallion on floor at C. and around the room some
hand-braided rugs. White shade curtains at C. overhung with lace
curtains. A plaited valance across top of window with side
draperies, and cushioned seat in window with hanging drape to match
top of valance—all of same material (green and mahogany water stain)
serve as a picture frame to window and complete the room. Off stage
to R. is a telephone bell. Off stage at lower L. a stamped envelope
for SALLIE. Off stage L. U. the other properties for CARRIE, JUDY
and JIMMIE._
_The light outside is a soft September afternoon of rich amber.
Within the room the light is full but not bright. Dimmed at end of
act into a mellow sunset._
ACT IV
SCENE: _The scene shows JERVIS PENDLETON’S library, a dark,
richly-furnished man’s room. The room is panelled in Circassian
walnut and topped by a green and gold frieze. The entrance C. is a
square arch, hung with curtains partly open and topped with
lambrequin. It leads to the hall outside. The back wall in hall is
tapestry covered; stairs at C. lead up and off L. A grandfather’s
clock at R. of stairway. In room at R., a large window corresponding
in width to arch at C., hung with curtains and lambrequin at C.
arch, and lace curtains. In front of window a desk, and on desk,
writing materials and papers, a push button at L. of desk and a
telephone at R. of desk. A lower (L.) drawer of desk opens, and in
it is a written letter addressed “John Smith.” On desk papers for
GRIGGS, a stenographer’s note-book and extra note-book which GRIGGS
returns for in Act._
_A long library table at C., running L. and R., a chair at each
end. On table C. a book rack and books. At back of either side of
entrance are large bookcases filled with books and ornamented on top
with large vases. At R., above desk, a teakwood table and large
lamp. At L. a mantelpiece and open grate fire with steel fender.
Above the mantel a painted portrait of JERVIS PENDLETON’S brother.
On mantel a library clock and vases. Before fireplace a large,
upholstered armchair._
_Off stage L., on table, a tray containing a glass, bottle of
medicine, with small quantity of medicine for JERVIS to drink and
the medicine graduate. An additional bottle for WALTERS and second
entrance with medicine change. A doctor’s surgical bag, typewritten
letter for GRIGGS (JUDY’S letter). Off stage R., a doorbell._
_The time is late afternoon of an October day._
_At R., through window, a spot-lamp spreads over desk. Practical
fire in grate at L._
------------------------------------------------------------------------
PROPERTY PLOT
ACT I
1 ground cloth; 1 large cupboard, with shelf; cheap fringed shelf paper;
plates, dishes and earthenware crocks in cupboard; 1 black box,
containing 2 white aprons and lace caps on shelf; in pantry, low shelf,
containing various kitchen pans; 7 benches; 7 stools; 4 oilcloth covered
tables; 4 horses for same; tables 8 feet by 2 feet—28 inches high; 1
table only 22 inches high; 2 benches 22 inches high; 4 tables as
described; 4 benches same height; 4 dozen plates—white enamel; 4 dozen
mugs—white enamel; 4 dozen tablespoons; 1 salt cellar filled with sugar
(not salt); 2 black Japan trays; 1 tea set (6 cups, 6 saucers, 1 sugar
bowl, 1 cream pitcher); 4 large salt cellars; 2 dishpans; 1 wash basin;
polishing cloths, soap and towels; extra cups to break; 1 dozen
teaspoons; 4 kitchen chairs; 1 shelf—in pantry.
Properties Off Stage R. 1 E.—1 rag rug; on property table, 1 tray
containing 2 plates of bread sandwiches, 1 dish of sliced lemon; 6
napkins.
PROPERTY PLOT
ACT II
Desk with chair; desk well arranged. (Judy’s desk.) Over it, small sign
reading: “We study to please.” Above sign, large framed picture of Mona
Lisa; college poster of Freshman’s Tree ceremonies; tacks to tack it on
wall; round table; on table, a tea tray containing cups, saucers,
spoons, tea pot, cream pitcher and empty sugar bowl; spirit lamp; empty
alcohol bottle; empty match box; couch and pillows in disorder; kettle;
Princeton college pennant tacked on wall; bookcase, with books to hang
on wall; papier mache rabbit’s head tacked over bookcase; large bureau
with upholstered top and drawers to open like steps; on top, pillows,
books and memoranda case are scattered; large ornamental Japanese
lantern hangs above in C. Shades on windows, with draperies to window
length; on side window sills, small vases filled with spring field
flowers; another desk in wild disorder (SALLIE’S desk) with chair; old
oak armchair with one short leg—the “wobbly” chair; large picture of Sir
Galahad; college poster of “Field Day” with illustration of JUDY
running, copied from book (Daddy Long-Legs). Small sign, “No Smoking
Allowed.” Another sign, “Our success is not mere talk.” Old fashioned
brass knocker for door. Another desk, also in disorder (JULIA’S desk)
and chair; another single chair; poster of Sophomore’s Cotillion; large
pictures on wall; pretty medallion rug, about 12 × 15; large inkspot on
rug; combination flat top desk with shelves at R. and L. Large rattan
arm-chair with hour-glass shaped bottom, caned to floor (to conceal
inkspot). Oak arm-chair; tobacco jar; skull; 2 aged lemons; pair of
scissors; small book; cover on desk; mass of vases, books, ink bottles,
tennis balls; 1 pair fencing foils on desk; chair at desk; sweater; 2
tennis racquets; feather duster; 2 (girls’) out-of-doors coats;
note-book; fencing mask; basket-ball, tam-o’-shanter; child’s sweeping
broom; golf bag with sticks.
Properties Off Stage L. 1 E.: small crash; extra cover for C. table,
same material as one on stage; gown for JUDY; on table R. at back, a
table with box of candy, card and tray, plate of buns, cup of sugar, cup
of tea, kettle of hot water, box of tea biscuits.
PROPERTY PLOT
ACT III
Fire-place (middle right) filled with ferns and goldenrod; all furniture
is old Colonial mahogany. Old fashioned 3-cornered Colonial cupboard;
drop leaf table; lacquered single chair; arm-chair; upholstered stool;
old cashmere cover on table; old fashioned inlaid desk; writing
materials; upholstered arm-chair; tidy; square work-table; small
workbasket; arm-chair; what-not with shells, vases, odds and ends of
ornaments; small mahogany upright piano; cushioned seat; music on piano;
another single chair; small mahogany card table, leaf raised; old clock;
pair old fashioned silver candlesticks; partly burned candles; old
mahogany mirror; old family silhouettes; oil painting of JERVIS
PENDLETON at age of 4; old fashioned engraving of George Washington;
large engraving of General Grant and family; old framed pictures of
Lincoln and Jackson; colored Martha Washington; small engraving of
Washington at Valley Forge; old fashioned oblong mirror with top picture
panel; old fashioned life-size crayons in oval frames of MR. and MRS.
SEMPLE; warming pan; large rag medallion; several hand braided rugs;
white shades; lace curtains; plaited valance for top of window, with
side draperies; cushioned seat in window; hanging draperies to match top
of valance—all same material.
Properties Off Stage R.: telephone bell; off lower L. stamped envelope.
L.U. the other properties for CARRIE, JUDY and JIMMIE.
PROPERTY PLOT
ACT IV
Grandfather’s clock; curtains, topped with lambrequin for arch;
curtains, lambrequin and lace curtains for window; desk; writing
materials and papers; push button L. of desk; telephone R. of desk;
letter addressed “John Smith” (in lower L. drawer of desk); papers;
stenographers’ note book; extra note book; long library table; 2 chairs;
table; book rack; books; bookcase filled with books (at entrance) large
vases (on top); teakwood table; large lamp; mantelpiece; open fire
grate; steel fender; painted portrait of JERVIS PENDLETON’S brother;
library clock and vases (on mantel); large upholstered chair.
Properties Off Stage: L. on table, tray with glass, bottle of medicine,
small quantity of medicine for Jervis to drink; medicine graduate;
additional bottle; doctor’s surgical bag; typewritten letter. Off R.
door-bell.
ELECTRICAL PLOT
ACT I
Foots, amber and white up one-half at rise.
Foots dimmed at cue to one-fourth up. (Bunch lamps and strips dim on
same cue.)
At window L. and amber and white bunch lamp above and below on each
backing.
At windows L. a 7 blue light strip on each backing up full through Act.
Over doors C. and R. of C. a three-lamp strip dimmed at cue as above.
Over doors at R., R.1 E., R.2 E.—a two lamp strip.
Bracket lamps, one at R. between doors, one R. of C. door, one L. of C.
door, and one in C. of C. hallway to be turned on by MISS LIPPETT at
cue.
Footlights come up a trifle when brackets are on.
A five-lamp strip (32 power lamps) in foots at C. up full through Act.
A spot lamp off L. upper window, to swing on pivot, into and around the
room, indicating the approach of a motor car, at near end of Act, cue
from JUDY “I can think about him. Please! Please!”
ELECTRICAL PLOT
ACT III
The light outside is a soft September afternoon, of rich amber.
Within the room the light is full but not bright.
Dimmed at end of Act into a mellow sunset.
ELECTRICAL PLOT
ACT IV
The time is late afternoon on an October day. At R. through window, a
spot lamp spreads over desk. Practical fire in grate over L.
LIGHTS. Placement. Fixtures NOT ON.
Floods outside window R.
Bunches Amber in arch C.
Spot in window R.1 to hit R.C.
Proc. Spot to hit Briss, R.C.
Proc. Spot to hit chair L. of table.
RISE FULL UP. Briss ENT. DIM. FTS. to 1/2—5 min.
Rise door bell R.
Red 1 5.
Red—Foots.
Amber—Foots.
White—Foots.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: Stage diagram of Act I: The Orphan Asylum]
[Illustration: Stage diagram of Act II: Judy’s Study at College]
[Illustration: Stage diagram of Act III: Sitting Room at Farm House]
[Illustration: Simplified stage diagram of Act III: Sitting Room of Farm
House]
[Illustration: Stage diagram of Act IV: Pendleton’s Library]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE REJUVENATION OF AUNT MARY.
The famous comedy in three acts, by Anne Warner. 7 males, 6 females.
Three interior scenes. Costumes modern. Plays 2¼ hours.
This is a genuinely funny comedy with splendid parts for “Aunt Mary,”
“Jack,” her lively nephew; “Lucinda,” a New England ancient maid of all
work; “Jack’s” three chums; the Girl “Jack” loves; “Joshua,” Aunt Mary’s
hired man, etc.
“Aunt Mary” was played by May Robson in New York and on tour for over
two years and it is sure to be a big success wherever produced. We
strongly recommend it. Price, 60 Cents.
MRS. BUMSTEAD-LEIGH.
A pleasing comedy, in three acts, by Harry James Smith, author of “The
Tailor-Made Man.” 6 males, 6 females. One interior scene. Costumes
modern. Plays 2¼ hours.
Mr. Smith chose for his initial comedy the complications arising from
the endeavors of a social climber to land herself in the altitude
peopled by hyphenated names—a theme permitting innumerable
complications, according to the spirit of the writer.
This most successful comedy was toured for several seasons by Mrs. Fiske
with enormous success. Price, 60 Cents.
MRS. TEMPLE’S TELEGRAM.
A most successful farce in three acts, by Frank Wyatt and William
Morris. 5 males, 4 females. One interior scene stands throughout the
three acts. Costumes modern. Plays 2½ hours.
“Mrs. Temple’s Telegram” is a sprightly farce in which there is an
abundance of fun without any taint of impropriety or any element of
offence. As noticed by Sir Walter Scott, “Oh, what a tangled web we
weave when first we practice to deceive.”
There is not a dull moment in the entire farce, and from the time the
curtain rises until it makes the final drop the fun is fast and furious.
A very exceptional farce. Price, 60 Cents.
THE NEW CO-ED.
A comedy in four acts, by Marie Doran, author of “Tempest and Sunshine,”
etc. Characters, 4 males, 7 females, though any number of boys and girls
can be introduced in the action of the play. One interior and one
exterior scene, but can be easily played in one interior scene. Costumes
modern. Time, about 2 hours.
The theme of this play is the coming of a new student to the college,
her reception by the scholars, her trials and final triumph.
There are three especially good girls’ parts, Letty, Madge and Estelle,
but the others have plenty to do. “Punch” Doolittle and George
Washington Watts, a gentleman of color, are two particularly good comedy
characters. We can strongly recommend “The New Co-Ed” to high schools
and amateurs. Price, 30 Cents.
(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced)
------------------------------------
SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City
New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Notes
This file uses _underscores_ to indicate italic text. Stage directions
are spaced inconsistently in the original printed text (e.g., “R. I. E.”
vs. “R.I.E.”) and are reproduced here as they appear in print. On p. 25,
a stage direction has an orphan embrace Judy before she has entered; on
p. 104 there appears to be a missing or misattributed line, as Jervis is
given two lines in a row (beginning “And I thought...” and “The same
idea...”). As the correction is not clear in either case, the passages
have been left as printed.
One line and one stage direction in Act 1 reference a character named
“Codman,” who does not appear elsewhere in the play but appears to be
one of the Trustees; this is possibly intended to be Wykoff.
Below is a list of itemized changes from the original text. Other minor
inconsistencies, such as differences in hyphenation (e.g. “armchair” vs.
“arm-chair”, “carefree” vs. “care-free”), have been left as printed.
• p. 6: Removed italics from mistakenly italicized line (Say ye knocked
this off...)
• p. 9: Corrected “flambuoyant” to “flamboyant” (Examines a flamboyant
watch...)
• p. 10: Corrected “today” to “to-day” (...in this institution to-day)
• p. 11: Added missing period in “R. I. E.” (Exits R. I. E.)
• p. 13: Corrected “today” to “to-day” (...Jervis Pendleton with us
to-day)
• p. 23: Corrected “tres” to “très” (Tu es enfant très bon...)
• p. 26: Corrected “Lippet” to “Lippett” (This won’t do, Mrs.
Lippett!...)
• p. 26: Supply missing period after “...upsetting the tea by bumping
into Jervis.”
• p. 69: Corrected “Mrs. Pritchard” to “Miss Pritchard” in stage
direction.
• p. 105: Corrected “imposisble” to “impossible” (Of course I know it’s
impossible...)
• p. 105: Corrected “he” to “be” (She should be here now...)
• p. 116: Corrected “Lippet” to “Lippett” (...as Mrs. Lippett turns on
bracket lights.)
• p. 119: Supply missing comma after “At L. of cupboard an armchair,”
• p. 119: Corrected “Sllie” to “Sallie” (...writing materials on table
for Sallie.)
• p. 124: Corrected “ink-spot” to “inkspot” (...to conceal inkspot)
New original cover art included with this eBook
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