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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/31506-h.zip b/31506-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..52b4773 --- /dev/null +++ b/31506-h.zip diff --git a/31506-h/31506-h.htm b/31506-h/31506-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2af24ae --- /dev/null +++ b/31506-h/31506-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2377 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" > +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <meta name="generator" content="eppg.py 0.44 (05-Feb-2010)" /> + <title>The Sweet Girl Graduates, by Rea Woodman</title> + <style type="text/css"> + body {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%;} + p {margin-top:1ex; margin-bottom:0; text-align:justify;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size:x-small; text-align:right; text-indent:0; + position:absolute; right:2%; padding:1px 3px; font-style:normal; + font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration:none; + background-color:inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color:silver;} + h1,h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal;} + h1 {font-size:1.6em; margin-top:4ex; margin-bottom:2ex;} + h2 {font-size:1.4em; margin-top:4ex; margin-bottom:2ex;} + a {text-decoration:none;} + div.toc a {text-decoration:underline;} + div.loi a {text-decoration:underline;} + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none; border-top:thin dashed silver;} + div.figcenter {text-align:center; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em;} + div.titlepage {} + div.titlepage p {text-align:center;} + .b {font-weight:bold;} + .fs14 {font-size:1.4em;} + .mb20 {margin-bottom:20px;} + .mb40 {margin-bottom:40px;} + .fs12 {font-size:1.2em;} + .fs09 {font-size:0.9em;} + .fs13 {font-size:1.3em;} + .sc {font-variant:small-caps;} + .mt00 {margin-top:00px;} + .dedic {text-align:center; margin: 20px auto;} + p.synopsis {margin:0 auto 2ex 7ex;} + .c {text-align:center;} + .mb10 {margin-bottom:10px;} + p.character {margin-left:6ex; text-indent:-6ex;} + .player {color:#336699; font-style:italic;} + div.bquote {font-size:1.0em; margin:5px 5%;} + div.bquote p {text-indent:0em; margin-bottom:4px; margin-top:4px;} + </style> +</head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sweet Girl Graduates, by Rea Woodman + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Sweet Girl Graduates + +Author: Rea Woodman + +Release Date: March 4, 2010 [EBook #31506] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATES *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-tpg.jpg' alt='' /> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div class='titlepage'> +<h1 class='b fs14 mb40'>The Sweet Girl Graduates</h1> + +<p class='mb40 fs12'>A FARCE<br />In Three Acts and an Epilogue</p> + +<p>BY<br /><span class='fs12'>REA WOODMAN, M.A.</span></p> +<p class='fs09 mb40'>Author of "She Organized a Club," "The Master's Birthday,"<br />and "The Professor."</p> + +<p class='mb40'>Copyright, 1902, by Rea Woodman.</p> + +<p class='fs13 sc'>Eldridge Entertainment House</p> +<p class='mt00'>FRANKLIN, OHIO</p> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='dedic'>To My Own Boys and Girls, The Class of 1902</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c b fs12 mb10'>SYNOPSIS</p> + +<p>ACT. I.</p> +<p class='synopsis'>Sitting Room of the De Smythe Home.<br /> +Wednesday Morning at 10 o'clock.<br /> +"<i>We'll have the prettiest frock if it breaks the R. I. P. R. R.!</i>"</p> + +<p>ACT. II.</p> + +<p class='synopsis'>Sitting Room of the De Smythe Home.<br /> +Thursday afternoon at 3 o'clock.<br /> +"<i>Deep, deep are the meanings of life</i>."</p> + +<p>ACT. III.</p> + +<p class='synopsis'>Hallway of the De Smythe Home.<br /> +Friday Morning at 9 o'clock.<br /> +"<i>Mr. Bulbus, the lilies are lovely</i>."</p> + +<p>EPILOGUE.</p> + +<p class='synopsis'>Dining Room in the home of Mr. and Mrs. Jack Hamilton.<br /> +A Friday Morning in May, 1905.<br /> +"<i>Therefore, Valeria squints</i>."</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c b fs12 mb10'>CHARACTERS</p> + +<p class='character'>Miss Maude De Smythe, The Sweet Girl,<br />Secretary of the Class of 1902.</p> + +<p class='character'>Mrs. De Smythe, Her Mother,<br />Who is threatened with nervous prostration.</p> + +<p class='character'>Mr. De Symthe, Her Father,<br />President of the R. I. P. Railroad.</p> + +<p class='character'>Mr. Jack Hamilton, Her Beau,<br />President of the Class of 1902.</p> + +<p class='character'>Miss Matilda Hoppenhoer, Her Aunt,<br />Who never graduated, thank Heaven!</p> + +<p class='character'>Miss Valeria Reynolds, Her Dearest Friend,<br />Whom she loves very much.</p> + +<p class='character'>Madam Sateene, Her Dressmaker.</p> + +<p class='character'>Madam Rantum, Her Elocution Teacher, (<i>late of the Boston School</i>.)</p> + +<p class='character'>Professor Grindem, Principal of the High School.</p> + +<p class='character'>Mr. Chinese Bulbus, The Florist.</p> + +<p class='character'>Katherine, The Maid.</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<h2 class='c fs12 mb20'><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_5'></a>5</span>ACT I.</h2> + +<div class='bquote'> +<p>(<i>Sitting-room of the DeSmythe home; "confusion +worse confounded;" everything topsy-turvy</i>. +<span class='sc'>Mrs. DeSmythe</span> <i>on couch;</i> <span class='sc'>Madam +Sateene</span> <i>and she looking over lace samples, of +which they have a great number. Madam in +"swell" street costume</i>.)</p> +</div> <!-- block quote --> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>tossing samples in a heap</i>). There's positively +<i>nothing</i> like it! Nothing anywhere near it!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> No, and nothing that can be used.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>snatching a bit of lace from the heap</i>). +There! That's a lover's knot pattern. Why, it–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> No, that's a sailor's knot. There is a great +difference.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>vaguely</i>). I don't see it.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>patiently</i>). You see the loop in this bends +down and in this, it bends–goes up. Every difference +in the world, my dear Mrs. De Smythe.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>meekly, but convinced</i>). Wouldn't it +do? All bunched up?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> But it is not to be bunched up!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>with a profound sigh</i>). What <i>can</i> we +do? And I threatened with an attack!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> I don't know! (<i>rises, sits down, then +groans</i>). I am at my wit's end. Let me think.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>with an inspiration</i>). Take the lace off!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>crushingly</i>). My dear Mrs. De Smythe, +the gown is <i>modelled</i> for lace.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>helplessly</i>). Oh!</p> + +<p>(<i>Madam sits in brown study, tapping her forehead</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> Let me see; Wednesday morning. (<i>looks +at watch</i>). Ten o'clock. It might be done. Practically +two days. (<i>sits staring at wall</i>). No, it couldn't! We +might use chiffon.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_6'></a>6</span><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Maude hates chiffon.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>with professional coldness</i>). Chiffon is a +very artistic trimming.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>wearily</i>). It may be–it may be, but +you know Maude.</p> + +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Miss Hoppenhoer</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>looks around; sniffs at the untidiness</i>). +Jennie, you look ready to faint!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Sit down. Don't stand there like–a–wooden +Indian!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> They don't keel over every few minutes, +anyhow! (<i>sits with a thud</i>). You look ready to faint!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> I feel ready to faint; the lace has given +out.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>picking up things)</i>. The lace–?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>with infinite patience</i>). The lace, you +know, for Maude's dress.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>blankly</i>). Eh–what dress?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>in polite surprise</i>). Why, Miss Hoppenhoer, +<i>what</i> dress?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>shrilly</i>). <i>What</i> dress,–oh, Matilda!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>commencing to "straighten" room in earnest</i>). +Oh, is <i>that</i> all? I thought the President had been +assassinated!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Matilda! I must say you don't seem +much interested. I should think you would,–your own +niece, too!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>tragically</i>). Look at this room,–<i>look at +this room!</i> It is a disgrace to a Christian community! +Think of the breakfast we had–or rather, that we didn't +have! And yesterday! And now you down sick–<i>down +sick!</i> Does it take a month to graduate? (<i>dusts an upholstered +chair vigorously</i>). It's such (<i>bang</i>) such non-(<i>bang</i>) nonsense!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_7'></a>7</span><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Nonsense to graduate! Matilda Hoppenhoer! +Do stop thrashing about! Ugh, that dust! +(<i>coughs weakly</i>). Katherine will do that.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>pounding sofa cushions</i>). Katherine is +busy; she has ten miles of flutin' to flute!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>coughing</i>). Well, stop, anyway! My +nerves are bad today.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> You are worn out. We're all as cross as +bears!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>emerging from a brown study</i>). What +shall I do? And only a yard needed! I think chiffon–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>straightening out a rug</i>). Use ribbon.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>with dignity</i>). They used ribbon last year.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> Fringe, then,–fringe is very dressy.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> They used fringe two years ago.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>snapping her up</i>). Well, what's the idea? +To use something that hasn't never been used?</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Maude</span> <i>comes in, breathless.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>sitting down hard</i>). Goodness, I'm tired! +Auntie, your grammar is bad–very bad. What are you +doing?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>sarcastically</i>). Getting you ready to graduate.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>peeling off her gloves</i>). Well sir, I've just +been racing around! O, Valeria's going to have chiffon.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>dramatically</i>). Chiffon!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>tossing her hat on the floor</i>). Yes, and it's +awfully pretty.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> Chiffon! Is she? (<i>Sits, from sheer weakness.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>beginning to undo sundry packages</i>). Yes, +and–why, what's the matter?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>gasping</i>). Chiffon!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>a light dawning</i>). Am I? Am I?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>winding yarn into a ball</i>). Am you what? +Sit down, child, sit down, you look like a statute!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_8'></a>8</span><span class='player'>Maude</span> Am I to have chiffon?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>firmly</i>). You are.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> We can't both have chiffon! I won't be +a copy-tale! I won't!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>sitting erect and speaking with authority</i>). +Listen, dearie. The lace has given out.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>stamping her foot</i>). Get more!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> We can't.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> And the gown is so modelled that we can +use nothing else.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I won't have chiffon! I won't–<i>I won't</i>–<i>I +won't.</i></p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>warningly</i>). Do not let Madame Sateene +see you in a passion.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Madam would be in a passion herself! She +knows how I feel! O dear! (<i>begins to sob</i>). Everything +is going wrong! I w-w-won't graduate, so there +now!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>mounting a chair to straighten a picture</i>). +That's sensible! You needn't. I never did.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Matilda, do not encourage the child! Of +course she must graduate. Everybody does.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>sarcastically</i>). If everybody stood on their +heads, I suppose we'd have to!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> You cannot judge in such matters, Matilda. +You are very old-fashioned.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>upsetting contents of work basket in lap</i>). +Maybe so, maybe so, but I am alive, and that child'll be +dead if–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>holds her head</i>). Matilda, for heaven's +sake, stop!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I'll telephone Valeria. May be she–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>with decision</i>). Maude, sit down! You +will do nothing of the sort. Mrs. Reynolds is <i>such</i> a +talker! The whole town would know it in ten minutes. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_9'></a>9</span> +Besides, at the Tuesday Club she cut me–actually <i>cut</i> +me! I will not permit it.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I don't think that ought to count, <i>now</i>. I +suppose I have to have something to wear.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> What do you say to a Paris muslin?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>listlessly</i>). What is a Paris muslin?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> A sort of fine organdie.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Swell?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Maudie! Would Madam Sateene propose +anything else? She doesn't want you to look like +a fright. Now, I think,–(<i>pauses, listening</i>). Why +there is papa's voice!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Papa, bless his old bones! Papa, come in +here, quick! Hurry up!</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Mr. De Smythe</span> <i>comes in hastily</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> What is it–what is it? Is Mamma worse?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>in tragic attitude</i>). I can't graduate!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> (<i>with profound astonishment</i>). Can't +graduate? Can't graduate? Didn't you pass?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>scornfully</i>). Pass! That doesn't matter! +My dress, my dress, my dress!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> (<i>immensely relieved</i>). Oh, your dress! +Isn't it fine enough?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> Why, you see, Mr. De Smythe, the–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>sobbing and clinging to his neck</i>). I got +to have chiffon, ugly, limp, old chiffon! It is so–so–d–drabbled!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Well, never mind! Hus-s-h! You'll make +Mamma worse. You needn't graduate! Never mind.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Oh, oh!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Never mind, little girl, you needn't graduate! +Never mind!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Oh, I–I must. The presents are coming +in.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>shortly</i>). Return 'em.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_10'></a>10</span><span class='player'>Maude</span> You wouldn't, if they were yours! You +know you wouldn't! Oh, you're all so mean!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>soothingly</i>). Let's have Paris muslin. It'll +be lovely.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> It's too stiff.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> And sounds too furrin! Haven't we got any +American muslin? I'd rather wear gunny sack.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Hurrah for Matilda! A female Patrick +Henry!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Papa, don't speak so loud!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> (<i>contritely</i>). I beg your pardon, Mamma,–your +poor head!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I want something pretty! Not–not just–just +any old thing!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>with awful dignity</i>). Paris muslin is beautiful.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> The other girls have silk.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Then you must have silk, too,–decidedly. +Mustn't she, Mamma?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>sighing</i>). I do not know, Papa, I do +not know. This is a dreadful time,–a dreadful time. +I fear I shall not live to see her graduate! (<i>sighs dismally</i>). +But you will all enjoy it. Matilda, will you heat +the salt bags?</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Miss Hoppenhoer</span> <i>bounces out</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>flies to couch</i>). O, you precious, precious +Mamma! Don't you dare get sick and die!</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Katherine</span> <i>opens the door</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Katherine</span> Miss Reynolds and Mr. Hamilton.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Hello, Valeria, how you vas? Jack, did you +get 'em?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>bows to ladies, shakes hands with Mr. De +Smythe</i>). Couldn't Maude, nothing but red.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> <i>Red!</i> I can't wear red! Madam Sateene, +can I?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11'></a>11</span><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>after due deliberation</i>). Yes, you can. You +will need a touch of color.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Valeria</span> Why don't you carry pink ones?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Pink roses are lovely. You carried pink ones +at the Junior Banquet, didn't you, Val?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Valeria</span> (<i>thoughtfully</i>). Did I? Yes, I did! Bridesmaid, +I think they were.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I hate pink roses!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Maudie, Maudie, do not be so vehement!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Never mind about the roses. They are a +side issue. The question is, "Wherewithal shall you be +clothed!" I must be off to earn your daily cake. Let's +decide.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>pensively</i>). Jack, do you like Paris muslin?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Is it anything like Plaster of Paris?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Jack, behave! I am so worried! (<i>signs of +tears.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Valeria</span> She's just tired, poor dear; don't tease her, +Jack.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>with dignity</i>). I am <i>not</i> tired. He can't +tease me, thank you, Valeria. I think, Madam, I will +have Paris muslin. Silk is so common.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Why don't you have bobinet?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Valeria</span> Why, Jack, bobinet is–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> I know what bobinet is; heavy and kind of +corded,–dead swell.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> That's pique!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Well, children, defer that discussion until +the Fourth of July. Is there time for a whole new rig?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> Y-e-s,–I think so.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Cheer up, everybody! We'll have the +prettiest frock in the outfit, if it breaks the R.I.P. Railroad! +We are the people! I must go hunt those papers–things +are stirred up so! Good-bye, Mamma, don't worry! +Madam Sateene will save us! (<i>goes</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12'></a>12</span><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>rising with alacrity</i>). I shall go look at +Paris muslins. Shall I bring you samples?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> No, I am not able to decide. We trust +to you absolutely, Madam Sateene, absolutely. (<i>groans</i>). +I believe I am going to have an attack! Oh, dear, my +nerves! They actually twitch! I wish Matilda were of +some use in such matters. Because she never graduated, +she thinks Maude shouldn't! Jack, do you see my +smelling salts?</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Jack</span> <i>hunts for the salts. Girls talk apart.</i> <span class='sc'>Madam</span> +<i>makes memoranda</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> Miss Maude, how would you like ribbon, +very narrow satin ribbon?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Kate Saunders had that in–let me see,–oh, +in 1900.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Valeria</span> And that French Girl,–Giggre–wore it last +year.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> O dear! (<i>grimly</i>). Anybody ever use rope?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>grinning</i>). Only men–for neck-ties mostly. +I can't find it, Mrs. De Smythe.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Then Matilda has put it in the medicine +chest. She is so neat! I can't help it–I don't +want to have an attack! What shall I do? But I am +afraid I–I am going to have one!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>with signs of tears</i>). O, Mamma, don't +have an attack! What shall I do? No roses, no dress, +no nothing!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>resolutely</i>). Well, you shall have a dress, +about noon, to give you (<i>with a tragic sweep of hand</i>) +if it is my last effort! Mrs. De Smythe, I'll drop in +and report! (<i>Goes hastily.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Valeria</span> I must go. I stopped for a list of my committee.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>absently</i>). Don't go. What committee?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Valeria</span> Committee on Decorations.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>vaguely</i>). Committee on–?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13'></a>13</span><span class='player'>Valeria</span> Decorations. Wake up!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>goes to desk</i>). O yes! (<i>rummages</i>). This +desk is disgraceful! Here it is! (<i>Reads crumpled paper.</i>) +"Be it resolved–" goodness, that's about poor +Ned Woodruff! Jack, who was on that committee?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>smoothing Valeria's gloves on his knee</i>). Miss +Secretary, I do not keep the minutes.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Well, you were presiding! (<i>rummaging</i>). +Here it is,–six,–is that enough? Five, rather,–Hal +Taylor won't serve.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Valeria</span> (<i>taking the list</i>). O yes, he will.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Said he wouldn't! Told Mabel Hopeland so +last night.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Valeria</span> (<i>calmly</i>). Yes, he will.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Well, he said he wouldn't.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Valeria</span> (<i>pocketing the list, unmoved</i>). He will if +I ask him.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>shutting desk with a bang</i>). Oh!</p> + +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Miss Hoppenhoer</span>, <i>with shawls, salt bags, etc.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> Jennie, you'd better go to bed.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>sadly</i>). I will. I hope I shall not have +an attack.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> Attack! We'll all have an attack before Friday +night! (<i>She busies herself about the couch. Valeria +and Maude go out.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> Now, can you walk, do you think? I'd better +call Katherine, hadn't I? Katherine! Be careful of +that bag–it's hot–awful hot! Lean on me–(<i>they go +out, but Miss Hoppenhoer runs back to pick up things</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Can't I help you! A fellow never knows what +to do when–when–anybody has an attack.</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Maude</span> <i>returns</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Come on, Maude, I've got an old tandem out +there. Let's take a spin.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>dropping a shawl and two bottles</i>). Got +a what?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14'></a>14</span><span class='player'>Jack</span> Go get ready, Maude. A tandem.</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Maude</span> <i>goes</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>moveless with astonishment</i>). You ride it?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>respectfully</i>). Yes, ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>aghast</i>). Ride it?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>fascinated</i>). Yessum. (<i>earnestly</i>). Yes, +ma'am.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> Ride a tantrum! Well, such goings on! +And all of it comes from graduating! Thank Heaven, +I never graduated!</p> + +<p>(<i>Commences to pick up things. Curtain.</i>)</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<h2 class='c fs12 mb20'>ACT II.</h2> + +<div class='bquote'> +<p>(<i>Sitting-room of the De Smythe home. Bouquets +with cards attached.</i> <span class='sc'>Maude's</span> <i>desk, open, +in confusion. Her hat and gloves on a chair.</i> +<span class='sc'>Jack</span>, <span class='sc'>Miss Rantum</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Maude</span>, <i>latter "practicing."</i>)</p> +</div> <!-- block quote --> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> (<i>decidedly</i>). It is best to hold it in one +hand.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>surprised beyond measure</i>). Oh, are you +going to read it?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>standing in the middle of the room</i>). W-e-1-1, +not exactly read it, you know.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I really know it–almost.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Then don't hold the paper.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>apprehensively</i>). Oh, but if I <i>should</i> forget!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>confidently</i>). You won't!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I might! Oh, it's very easy for you to say +orate, for <i>you</i> can!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>conscious of ability</i>). Yes, but you could, too.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> What is the subject of your oration, Mr. +Hamilton?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>modestly</i>). "Universality in Statecraft."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15'></a>15</span><span class='player'>Maude</span> And it's a dandy! You ought to hear him +when he comes to, "For of all the nations, builded of +power and sealed with blood–" (<i>in tremendous tones</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Oh, now, Maude, I say, let up.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Well, honest, you <i>are</i> fine. No I should die +if I forgot,–just simply die.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> It is wiser for her to hold her manuscript, I +think. This is an essay, <i>not</i> an oration.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>sitting down and getting up, a la Delsarte</i>). +Of course, Jack, don't you see? It is an essay, <i>not</i> an +oration. Now, did I get up right?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Try it again.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>repeats the operation and advances very +stiffly</i>). Is that it?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>judicially</i>). Too corky.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Be leisurely. Leisure is elegance. And +bend more. Try it again,–so. (<i>illustrates</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>doing likewise</i>). I do hope I won't drop +anything. How was that?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> (<i>hesitating</i>). A trifle–just a trifle–well, +er-stiff. Of all things, a lady must rise well.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Yes, not as if she were shot out of a cannon!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Jack, you keep still!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Try it again–so. (<i>illustrates</i>). Bend from +the waist.</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Maude</span> <i>does so amid solemn silence</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>graciously</i>). That was better.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Now, go on.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>reading</i>). "Life's Inner Meanings."</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Louder and more deliberately. "Life's Inner +Meanings."</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> "Life's Inner Meanings."</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Go on, not too fast. Don't hold it so high +and bend the body forward from the waist.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>in high shrill tones</i>). "As a traveler, among +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16'></a>16</span> +the mighty mountains, fails to realize the height to which +he has climbed–" (<i>Stops, winded.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Compose yourself, compose yourself! Your +voice is–well, unnatural.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Yes, it's squeaky.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>with heat</i>). It isn't! You're awfully mean! +I've got to be heard!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Try it again. Use a deeper tone. "As a +traveler, among the mighty mountains, fails to realize +the height–" Now, go on.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>nervously</i>). "As a traveler, among the +mighty mountains, fails to realize the height to which he +has climbed, so we, in Life's dusty pathway, cannot estimate +the distance we have traveled." O, Miss Rantum, +that isn't right!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> No, not exactly, not precisely right. You +see, you–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Why don't you use "journeyed" instead of +"traveled"?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>ignoring him</i>). Miss Rantum, what <i>is</i> the +matter with it? I'm not doing as well as I did last +week!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> No, you really aren't, but–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> I say, why don't you change–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>imploringly</i>). What is the matter, Miss +Rantum?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> It isn't firm. You don't seem to know what +you are saying.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>in grave-yard tones</i>). "As the traveler, +among the mighty mountains, fails to–"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>ditto</i>). Finally, my beloved brethren–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> (<i>hastily</i>). Lighter, but firmly. Use a conversational +tone, "As the traveler, among the mountains;" +"It is a very pleasant day," "How do you do?" +See?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>in light, quivering tones</i>). "As a traveler, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17'></a>17</span> +among the mountains–mighty mountains–fails to realize +the height to which he has climbed–has climbed, so +we, in Life's dusty pathway, cannot estimate the distance +we have traveled."</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> "Climbed–climbed." I don't like "climbed" +there; wouldn't "attained" be better?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Professor Grindem didn't say so.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> "Attained" is a prettier word.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>earnestly</i>). Do you think so?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> "Climbed" is better. It is a real traveler +and real mountains, hence "climbed." "Attained" sounds +as if it were ideals, you know.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>sighing profoundly</i>). Yes, I think so, too. +Besides, it's too late to change it now. I'd forget.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> All right! "On with the dance." I'm no +judge.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Go on with the next paragraph.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> The next isn't a paragraph.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> (<i>very patiently and gently</i>). Well, go on +with the next.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> "Among life's bright flowers, its rugged +slopes, its pleasant walleys–"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Valleys.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> "Its pleasant walleys, its–"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Valleys.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>nervously</i>). Let me start over.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Well, only use deeper tones. (<i>She sits +down.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>very slowly</i>). "Among life's bright flowers, +its rugged slopes, its pleasant walleys–valleys, its +dangerous pitfalls, we cannot realize the magnitood of +the common things about us."</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> "Magni<i>tude</i>," not "<i>tood.</i>"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> "The magnitude of the common things +about us."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18'></a>18</span><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Touch "common things" more lightly; "of +the common things about us,"–"common things."</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>takes a sprint</i>). We cannot realize the magnitood–tude–of +the "common–" oh, dear, I can <i>never</i> +say it!"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Yes, you can. You are doing well,–remarkably +well.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> <i>O</i> Miss Rantum!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> You are, honest Injun! It'll be dandy.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Please read,–are you tired standing?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>dismally</i>). No,–I got to get it.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Please read that second paragraph–sentence–again.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>taking a brace</i>). Among life's bright flowers, +its rugged slopes–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> R-r-r-rugged slopes.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Rugged slopes.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> No, r-r-rugged slopes. Trill your "r."</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>flatly</i>). I can't.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> What's the use? I don't think she need. People +only do that on Decoration Day. "Br-rave, r-rugged +heroes," you know.</p> + +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Katherine</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Katherine</span> Miss Maude, a letter from you–for you, +I mean. (<i>Hands one in awestruck manner and escapes.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> That girl is scared to death at anything that +looks like writing. Did you see her?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> (<i>leaning back in her chair</i>). Is she of foreign +extraction?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> No, foreign distraction.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>falling into a chair and opening letter</i>). +From Valeria. She can't come over this afternoon. She's +got to, to–I can't make it out. (<i>spells slowly</i>). B-a-an, +B-a-n–</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19'></a>19</span><span class='player'>Jack</span> Banana, maybe. She's got to banana. Let me +see it, I'm used to her hand.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Indeed! (<i>elaborately</i>). Indeed, you <i>are!</i> +Maybee this is <i>your</i> note?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> You needn't get so mad. Let her banana. I +don't care!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>springing up</i>). Neither do I! Take the +note!</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Katherine</span> <i>appears at the door</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Katherine</span> (<i>in much trepidation</i>). <i>Per</i>fesser Grindem.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>pleasantly</i>). All right Katherine, we are perpared!</p> + +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Professor Grindem</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Grindem</span> (<i>bows profoundly, repeatedly</i>). Ah, good +morning, ladies, good morning! Mr. Hamilton, ah, +good morning! How is the work progressing?</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Jack</span> <i>shakes hands</i>. <span class='sc'>Miss Rantum</span> <i>bows distantly</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>tearing note into tiny bits</i>). I shall be +scared to death.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Grindem</span> (<i>cordially</i>). Not at all, Miss Maude, ah, +not at all! Not at all! You will feel power,–power is +ahem!–power is a great thing–a great thing.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>dejectedly</i>). Yes, Professor.</p> + +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Mrs. De Smythe</span>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Grindem</span> May I hear the–ah, Mrs. De Smythe, good +morning!</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Mrs. De Smythe</span> <i>adjusts herself on couch</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Yes, Maudie, dear, read it all to us. O +Matilda, Matilda, my salts! Now, Maudie!</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Miss Hoppenhoer</span> <i>bustles in and takes her station +behind couch</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>painfully taking "position"</i>). "Life's Inner +Meanings."</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20'></a>20</span><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> A very pretty subject, I think.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>sniffs</i>). A very pretty <i>broad</i> one, I think!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>impressively</i>). "Life's Inner Meanings."</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Stand straighter, Miss Maude–so.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> I think that's awkward,–looks as if she were +going to cry "Lay on, Macduff!"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Why, Jack Hamilton!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Jack's only joking. Why don't you go +on?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> "Life's Inner Meanings," (<i>then, very rapidly</i>). +"As a traveler among the mighty mountains, fails +to realize the height to which he has climbed, so we, in +Life's dusty pathway, cannot estimate the distance we +have traveled. Among life's bright flowers, its rugged +slopes, its pleasant walleys–valleys, its dangerous pitfalls, +we cannot realize the magnitood–tude–magnitude +of the common things about us." (<i>Stops, breathless.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Don't sway so. Hold the body firm.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> There's no hurry, child.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> That pace would kill!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> (<i>to Professor Grindem</i>). Her voice is not +deep enough. It lacks impressiveness.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Grindem</span> Yes, it lacks power–power, I should say.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>near tears</i>). I can't get a new voice for +this old essay!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> Yes, you ought to; you ought to be made +over if you're going to graduate!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Do go on; I am very fond of the next +part.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>continues</i>). "We stand upon the brink–"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> More rapidly there, "We stand upon the +brink!"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>in exact imitation</i>). "We stand upon the +brink."</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>ditto</i>). That is, if we don't fall off–</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21'></a>21</span><span class='player'>Maude</span> Make Jack be still or I–I–can't!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Beg your pardon, but really, <i>'a brink,'</i> you +know.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> "We stand upon the brink–who can guess +what say the dashing waters beneath? Who can interpret +the silence of the eternal stars? We rest in the +walley–valley, who can understand the whispering of +the leaves? Who can read the secrets of the ocean blue? +O, deep are the inner meanings,–deep, deep are the +mysteries of nature, infinite are the suggestions of life!"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Grindem</span> Too, rapidly, Miss Maude,–too rapidly. +Those are grand sentiments,–give 'em time–give 'em +time.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> There is not enough emotion in the climax: +"Deep, deep are the mysteries of nature!" Read it (<i>in +a cellerage tone</i>). "Deep, deep are the mysteries of +nature!"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>using the "vox humana stop"</i>). "Deep, +<i>deep</i> are the mysteries of nature!"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>soothingly</i>). You are not doing so well, +Maudie, today.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> No, I think you get worse.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Nobody c-could! You all find fault. (<i>weeps</i>). +You couldn't do any better–none of you–so there now!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> Never mind! It doesn't matter. Don't +graduate.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>still weeping</i>). It does matter! It d-does! +I don't want to disgrace the family.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> Ought to have commenced sooner, then, if +you didn't!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Voice from without.</span> Who's going to disgrace the +family? I'd like to see 'em try it.</p> + +<p>(<i>As</i> <span class='sc'>Mr. De Smythe</span> <i>appears</i>, <span class='sc'>Professor Grindem</span> <i>and</i> +<span class='sc'>Jack</span> <i>go out, in deep converse</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I am!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Oh, no, you're not,–not by the R.I.P. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22'></a>22</span> +Railroad! (<i>cheerfully</i>). You won't be permitted to, +Miss! Doesn't the dress fit?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>with intense scorn</i>). The dress! Oh, Papa, +my piece!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> O, you're piece! Say it to me! I haven't +heard it today.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> You're making fun of me!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> The child is worn out.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I am not worn out! I am not a baby! (<i>collapses</i>). +I wish I was d-d-dead!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> O dear! O dear! Maudie, child!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I just w-wish I was.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> W-h-y-ee! When I have brought you +your present! I am astonished!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Have you? Oh, Papa, <i>have</i> you? Let me +see!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> (<i>taking out of his pocket a tiny case</i>). +No more tears?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>rubbing eyes hard</i>). No–never.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Honest? I've never seen so many tears. +We are a Johnstown flood lately. (<i>Gives jeweler's case.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> A watch! A w-a-t-c-h!! (<i>flies at him</i>).</p> + +<p>(<i>Re-enter</i> <span class='sc'>Jack</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Mr. Bulbus</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. Bulbus.</span> (<i>bows awkwardly</i>). I come to see about +them decorations.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>rapturously</i>). A watch!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Guess we don't need 'em, Mr. Bulbus. +There is something going on at the school that night.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I was afraid it would be books. (<i>She and +Jack examine the watch aside.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> We might have a reception.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> Jennie, you'll be sick! Mark my words, +you'll have an attack!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> But it's so nearly over–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Ought we to have one? Does everybody?</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23'></a>23</span><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>sarcastically</i>). Does everybody have <i>what</i>? +Have an attack?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> (<i>patiently</i>). A reception.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> It's the thing to do, isn't it, Miss Rantum?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> (<i>looks up from Maude's MS., which she +has been studying</i>). I beg your pardon, Mrs. De Smythe?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> It's the thing to do–to have a reception, +isn't it?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> They always do in Boston.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Do what in Boston?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> They have receptions. (<i>with great dignity</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> And Beans.</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Miss Rantum</span> <i>straightens up to retort, but</i> <span class='sc'>Mr. De +Smythe</span> <i>cuts in</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> And here is Mr. Bulbus waiting! He is a +business man, you know. When do you want him, +Jennie?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. B.</span> (<i>confusedly</i>). Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>sweetly</i>). You'd just as soon wait, wouldn't +you, Mr. Bulbus?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. B.</span> (<i>blushing, drops hat</i>). Yes, I-d–I'd–I'd +rather.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> We must decide while Mr. Bulbus is +here, so we can get his suggestions.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. B.</span> (<i>standing like a stork</i>). Yes'sum.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> (<i>preparing to depart</i>). Well, Miss Maude, +I think we will not need another rehearsal.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Oh, Miss Rantum, <i>do</i> you think I can do it +all right?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> Yes, I think so. You must rest this evening.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> The Juniors are to give us a spread.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss R.</span> (<i>definitely</i>). But you must not go. Mr. +De Smythe, may I speak to you?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Go on with your reception business. Mr. +Bulbus hasn't all day. (<i>Goes out with Miss Rantum.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24'></a>24</span><span class='player'>Mr. B.</span> (<i>changes weight to other foot</i>). Yes, sir.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Won't you be seated, Mr. Bulbus?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. B.</span> (<i>sits on edge of small chair</i>). Yessum, thank +yer.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Let's have just the graduating class.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> No, I'm dead tired of the push! Let's have a +picked crowd,–friends of "the highly contracting parties," +you know.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> We ought to have your professors.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> We'd have to invite Grindem, and he's so +awfully–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Professor Grindem is a <i>very</i> delightful +gentleman, Maudie!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>in imitation</i>). Yes, ahem, he has–power–ahem,–power +is–power is a wonderful thing, a wonderful +thing!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Well, as to the decorations.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Smilax from the chandelier–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Don't let's have any smilax. It's too much like +funerals.</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Mr. De Smythe</span> <i>returns</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Well, Mr. Bulbus, have they decided?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> No, Papa, we can't decide who to have.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Let that slide now, and go into a committee +of the whole on decorations.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Let's–but I don't want the faculty.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> You'd like to have Professor Graham. All girls +are gone on him.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> We needn't order cut flowers. All of +Maudie's–(<i>stops to cough</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>throws down her darning</i>). Jennie, <i>you'll</i> +have an attack! I won't be no committee! I won't encourage +this nonsense. Education is all right; everybody +needs a little,–enough to make an honest livin'. +But look at your mother, look at your father! They're +plumb wore out settin' up nights to get you graduated! +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25'></a>25</span> +In my day when girls got through school they quit, they +didn't go to Commencin' and carrin' on! I won't be no +committee of the whole nor no other kind. When you're +all dead nobody can blame me! (<i>walks out, sniffing disdainfully</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>rising hastily</i>). Oh, dear, now she'll go +sweep every room in the house! (<i>goes out in haste</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>springs up</i>). Mamma mustn't wear herself +out. It would be all right if Auntie had graduated. +(<i>goes in haste</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> (<i>gazing helplessly after them all</i>). Matilda's +Declaration of Independence! (<i>seating himself +resignedly</i>). Draw up your chairs, gentlemen. We'll +have to 'wait til the clouds roll by'.</p> + +<p>(<i>Curtain falls on the three men looking at each other +silently.</i>)</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<h2 class='c fs12 mb20'>ACT III.</h2> + +<div class='bquote'> +<p>(<i>Hallway of the DeSmythe house. Flowers +on extra tables, cards attached. Door bell in +vestibule rings constantly; flowers and packages +arriving. Maude's picture hat, gloves and fan +on chair.</i> <span class='sc'>Mr. Bulbus</span> <i>on ladder, measuring the +wall.</i> <span class='sc'>Katherine</span> <i>enters and re-enters, with +flowers and gifts.</i> <span class='sc'>Miss Hoppenhoer</span> <i>flits in +and out. Everybody nervous.</i>)</p> +</div> <!-- block quote --> + +<p><span class='player'>Katherine</span> The bill's been a-ringin' all morning like +that. (<i>arranges flowers</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. B.</span> I should think you'd be tired. Ain't yer?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Katherine</span> No, it's as exciting as a wedding.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. B.</span> You wimmen like weddin's. I never see a +woman as didn't.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Katherine</span> (<i>wonderingly</i>). Are you going to decorate +the hall?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. B.</span> (<i>largely</i>). Of course,–palms and ropes of +smilax–</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26'></a>26</span>(<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Jack</span>, <i>carrying his hat and gloves.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>agreeably</i>). Good morning, Katherine. I let +myself in, you not being a regiment. (<i>Katherine goes</i>). +Good morning, Mr. Bulbus. You look pretty festive in +here. (<i>examines bouquets, reading cards aloud and +commenting</i>). "Compliments of Harold Taylor."–Umph, +got them here in time, I should say. "With love of +Edith."–girls always put on "with love of." "Wishing +you a joyous day. Dick Dowell." That's nice of Dick, +considering the late unpleasantness. "Lucile," of course; +"Lucile" in white and gold! A girl couldn't graduate +unless she had three 'Luciles' and a 'Maurine!' Golden +Gate roses! Whew, that means dough! Professor +Graham, I'll bet! He's got dough and cheek–</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Maude</span> <i>runs down the stairs</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> O, hello, Maude! (<i>gives a long whistle</i>). Aren't +we fine? Swagger!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>imploringly</i>). Jack, how do I look?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Turn around,–slowly. (<i>Maude revolves very +slowly.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>anxiously</i>). Well?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> You look–you look–out of sight! By George, +you do!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>caressing her dress skirt</i>). You like the +train?</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Mr. Bulbus</span> <i>gets down and goes out, unnoticed by</i> +<span class='sc'>Maude</span>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> It's splendid. You're a–a queen! I'd kiss +you–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>startled</i>). H-u-s-h! Mr. Bulbus!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>coolly</i>). Oh, he's gone.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Goodness, what if he'd been there!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>comfortably</i>). He wasn't.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>trying to see the back of her train in glass</i>). +But you didn't know it!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27'></a>27</span><span class='player'>Jack</span> Don't you <i>think</i> I didn't know it! 'Spose I +want to make the poor duffer green with envy? I can't +kiss you anyway, you're too fine.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> No, I can't even sit down! Jack, you look +awfully handsome.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Thank you. Would you wear a rose?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Of course–one of Dick's. Nice of Dick, +wasn't it? (<i>gets one; puts it on; an operation requiring +time and patience</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Don't leave so much green show. I want a +contrast, not a study in tints.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Don't touch me! Hold your arms out straight.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>standing like a sign post</i>). Then hurry up! +I am not the stuff martyrs are made of.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Is that all right?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Stand off and get the effect. How can I tell?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>standing back</i>). Put down your arms!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>obediently</i>). Well?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>with enthusiasm</i>). Perfectly lovely! My, I +shall be proud of you! For pity's sake, don't look at me!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Can't help it.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I don't mean <i>now</i>–goosey! I mean when I +read. If I should forget!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> You won't! Keep your eye on Old South +Church and–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> On <i>what</i>?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> I beg your pardon. On Miss Rantum.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Oh! It must be time,–where is everybody?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> I'm here, (<i>sits on arm of chair and gazes at +her.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> O you, yes! But I mean mamma! I am so +nervous!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> You girls just try to be nervous. You think it's +becoming.</p> + +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Mrs. De Smythe</span>, <i>in black silk</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28'></a>28</span><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> The carriages have come. Where can +Papa be?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (in dismay). O, it isn't time, is it? O horrors, +where is my essay? Jack, please look in my desk.</p> + +<p>(Jack dashes out.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Mamma, is my hair all right?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Yes, Maudie, yes, (dismally) you look +lovely.</p> + +<p>(Jack dashes in, essay in hand.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Here it is, but don't practice now.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (pacing the floor). "As a traveler, among +the mighty mountains, fails to realize–to realize the +heights to which he has climbed, so we, in Life's dusty +pathway, cannot estimate the distance we have–we +have,–cannot estimate the distance we have–" There, +I knew I didn't know it! What shall I do?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (brilliantly). Open your manuscript.</p> + +<p>(Katherine enters, with letters and small package.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (unseeing, resumes). "Deep, deep are the +mysteries of nature, infinite are–are–"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Maudie, here is a letter from Uncle John. +(withholds package).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (drops essay). O, I wonder what he sent! +Is this all!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Why, Maudie! Read it.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (tears it open; reads). "My dearest Niece: +Hail to the happy day! 'Way down here in South Africa, +'mong monkeys and Boers, I feel the excitement. We +don't graduate down here, but we know people who do. +Never, I know, has the house of De Smythe been so +shaken. In honor thereof, I am sending a–a–" O, +goodness, I can't–"a diamond ring,"–a diamond! Hasn't +it come?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Does he say when?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (referring to the letter). He says "I am +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29'></a>29</span> +sending–" Katherine is such a stupy! (<i>calls</i>). Katherine–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Maybe this is it. (<i>gives package</i>).</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Katherine</span> <i>comes with pink roses</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> O, O. O.! Isn't it a beauty! Jack, look!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>just glancing</i>). Umph! Yes, I see.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> <i>Dear</i> Uncle John! Everybody is <i>so</i> good! +It's bigger than Valeria's. Must I wear gloves? I don't +care, I just won't.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Your roses, Maudie.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> O, your roses, Jack! They're lovely!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>slowly</i>). The red weren't pretty, so I got +pink. I hope you'll–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>rapturously</i>). I just love <i>pink</i> roses!</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Katherine</span> <i>comes in with a big package</i>.)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>tearing away pink ribbons and tissue papers</i>). +"With Valeria's dearest love." A bonbon dish! +Isn't it lovely! And violets on it!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>with a grimace</i>). It will hold two pounds!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> It isn't a bit too big! If you won't fill it–well, +there are others. I'm forgetting my piece. "Deep, +deep are the mysteries–"</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Are you going to <i>say</i> it?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> No, but I must really know it, you know, so +I can look up often.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> "O, I see clearly," said the blind man.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Dear, dear, this is just as if you were +getting married! (<i>sinks into a chair; she has been examining +the flowers</i>). The presents and the flowers and +the carriages and–and everything. O, suppose you +were–suppose you were!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>with intense indignation</i>). But I'm not! +I'm graduating!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>disconsolately</i>). I don't think they're much +alike!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30'></a>30</span><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> But where <i>is</i> Papa?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> As I came, I saw him at the drug store.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> The drug store! Why in the world–oh, +I remember now,–I sent him. We'll never get off.</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Miss Hoppenhoer's</span> <i>voice is heard from somewhere, +"O Jennie!"</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>rising and collecting things dropped</i>). +I wonder what's happened now? I hope Papa isn't +killed! (<i>hurries out</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>gazing at her ring</i>). Aren't my presents +pretty?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Yes, but you are prettier.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>archly</i>). Thank you, Mr. Hamilton, but +aren't you a little rash? (<i>holds roses to her face by way +of contrast.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>critically</i>). No, I think not, on mature consideration. +Your hair looks like gold–California gold, +and those lovely lilies! Who gave you those lilies-of-the-valley? +(<i>suddenly</i>).</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>evasively</i>). Why California gold?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> O, it's redder, and then, it is a native product. +You'd be mad if I said antique gold.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> But do you like antique gold better?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> That isn't the point. Who gave you those +lilies?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Aren't they dear?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>cruelly</i>). Don't know,–didn't buy 'em. +Whose tribute are they?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> "Tribute" sounds like a funeral.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>with awful meaning</i>). There may be a funeral. +Whose are they?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>demurely</i>). Mine.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>with infinite patience</i>). You know what I +mean, (<i>with terrible calmness</i>). Who gave you those?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>preparing to cry</i>). You're awfully cross, I +think.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31'></a>31</span>(<span class='sc'>Mr. Bulbus</span> <i>enters in rear hunting something.</i> <span class='sc'>Maude</span> +<i>sees him.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>unmoved</i>). Who gave you those?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>graciously, sweetly</i>). Mr. Bulbus, the lilies +are lovely.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. B.</span> (<i>surprised into dropping a hammer</i>). Yes'sum, +I'm glad you–you like 'em. (<i>retreats in confusion.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Oh! (<i>slowly</i>). That's awfully nice of you.</p> + +<p>(<i>Enter</i> <span class='sc'>Mrs. De Smythe</span> and <span class='sc'>Miss Hoppenhoer</span>, +<i>bonnets and gloves on.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> Where <i>is</i> your father? It's time to go.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Past time. Grindem said to be there at 9:30.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> What shall we do? I knew he would be +late! I hope I shall not have an attack!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>grimly</i>). No, I <i>hope</i> not–in that dress!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> As if one's dress made any difference with +an attack! O, there he is! Well, Papa, you–good morning, Madam.</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Mr. De Smythe</span> <i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Madam Sateene</span> <i>come in together.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> My, how fine we look!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Madam Sateene, this shoulder–wrinkles.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> Let me see. (<i>Madam and Maude consult +apart.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> We ought to go.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> Miss Rantum hasn't come.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>looking up from his own Ms.</i>) O, I forgot! +Miss Baked Beans will meet us there. She couldn't +come here.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> She promised she would!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> All ready. How many of these do we +take? (<i>indicating flowers</i>). Need a dray?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Only Jack's–and I carry them. Jack, you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32'></a>32</span> +carry my essay and fan. (<i>puts on hat</i>). Is it straight? +Where are my roses?</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Miss Hoppenhoer</span> <i>gives</i> <span class='sc'>Mr. De Smythe</span> <i>two shawls +and he goes.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Madam</span> (<i>anxiously</i>). Wait one moment. (<i>adjusts +Maude's train</i>). Now.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> Have you any lemon drops?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Of course not,–nobody carries lemon drops! +Where <i>is</i> my handkerchief!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>sheepishly, taking it out of his vest</i>). Here +it is.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> (<i>from door</i>). Come on, you people.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> O dear, dear, I shall never stand it.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>collecting salts and fans</i>). We're coming.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> O dear,–kiss me, Maudie. (<i>sits down +exhausted</i>). It's just like a wedding! I can't stand it! +Some day you'll be getting married!</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Mr. Bulbus</span> <i>enters in the rear and just stands.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>cheerfully</i>). I hope so.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>arranging train to carry it gracefully</i>). +Poor Mamma!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mr. De S.</span> (<i>from outside</i>). Come on! Matilda, bring +Mamma!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> O, O, O!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Brace up, Mamma, you <i>must</i>.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>to her handkerchief</i>). And only yesterday +she was a baby!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Miss H.</span> (<i>snappishly.</i>) And only day before yesterday +you were!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Mrs. De S.</span> (<i>from outside</i>). Come on–we <i>must</i> go.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Chorus</span> We're coming! (<i>All start, collecting fans, +handkerchiefs, and gathering up trains, adjusting bonnets +anew, etc.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>as they rush for the door</i>). O, look out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33'></a>33</span> +for my flowers! Jack, got my piece? I know I shall +forget! What if we're late? Good-bye, Mr. Bulbus! +(<i>all go</i>).</p> + +<p>(<i>Curtain drops on</i> <span class='sc'>Mr. Bulbus</span>, <i>gazing after</i> <span class='sc'>Maude</span> <i>in +a sort of trance.</i>)</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<p class='c fs12 mb20'>EPILOGUE.</p> + +<div class='bquote'> +<p>(<i>A Wednesday morning in May, 1905.</i> <span class='sc'>Mr</span>. +<i>and</i> <span class='sc'>Mrs. Jack Hamilton</span> <i>at breakfast. He +reading a paper, totally absorbed. She opening +her letters; there are two by her plate.</i>)</p> +</div> <!-- block quote --> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>reading letter and talking to herself</i>). Well, +Well! (<i>reading</i>). I am not angry–not in the least. +You <i>dear</i> old girl! (<i>drops letter and meditates</i>). You +<i>dear</i> old girl! (<i>resumes reading</i>). I know better,–you +wouldn't! (<i>reads about a page without comment, +then</i>) W-h-y! <i>Why!</i> O goodness gracious! Jack!</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Jack</span> <i>looks over top of paper absently, then resumes +reading.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>explosively</i>). Jack, what <i>do</i> you think? +Only fancy–Valeria is–Jack, listen! Put down your +horrid paper! Valeria is <i>married</i>.</p> + +<p>(<i>He looks at her vacantly.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Well?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Well? Listen: Valeria is married.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>waking to the situation</i>). Is that so! Valeria–well, +well. I'm not astonished.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>pensively</i>). Why not?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>at a venture</i>). O, because–she is so–so +handsome.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>scornfully</i>). She isn't handsome! Where +are your eyes? She's clever–clever, that's what Valeria +is. But not handsome,–certainly not. She squints.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>staring</i>). I thought you were so fond of her.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>with dignity</i>). I am, I am awfully fond of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34'></a>34</span> +her–I've always been. But (<i>cuttingly</i>) affection doesn't +blind <i>me</i>. I can love her and see her faults. Nobody +ever called Valeria handsome.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>hunting his place on the page</i>). Maybe it was +stunning.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>with intense emphasis</i>). Stunning!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>turning the page with a prodigious rattling</i>). +Hal used to rave over her.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> O! Hal, he–don't rattle your paper so, you +make me nervous! Hal didn't care for her.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>absently</i>). No, I suppose not, I suppose not. +Of course, nobody could.</p> + +<p>(<i>Silence. Both read.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>intent on letter and all to herself</i>). I wonder +what she wore! She is too old for white. (<i>reads +aloud</i>). "You'll be surprised, my dear." Yes, I confess +I am. (<i>gazing at coffee urn thoughtfully</i>). Yes, I am. +(<i>resumes reading</i>). Where was I? "I want to tell you +first, dear." Here it is. So she <i>did</i> wear white–now, +I am astonished. (<i>reads on</i>). For pity sakes! Jack</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>starts violently, crushing paper</i>). A man +might as well live on Vesuvius.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>in great excitement</i>). But, <i>Jack</i>, guess <i>who</i> +married her.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>with calm certainty</i>). The man in the Moon. +He's too jolly to mind squints.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Just guess. You never can.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>impatiently, much wrought upon.</i>) Then +tell me.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>in an explosive</i>). Hal!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>inanely</i>). Hal!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>calmly, the mine sprung</i>). Hal Taylor.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Hal Taylor. Well, I am–bobbed!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> I'm not surprised.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> You said Hal didn't care for her.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35'></a>35</span><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>very slowly</i>). He doesn't, Jack. Hal was–<i>roped +in</i>.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>stares, then gives vent to a long whistle of +astonishment</i>). Well, you women!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Don't talk to me. I am disgusted!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>ruefully</i>). Well! (<i>He stares, folds napkin, +unfolds it and takes up his newspaper.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Don't sit there, just saying "Well" all the +time!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>slowly</i>). Say, what is it to you?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>sobs a little</i>). She h-has deceived me–basely +deceived me. But I don't care. I shall send her +a cut-glass berry dish,–maybe a Tiffany c-c-cut! (<i>dries +her eyes resolutely</i>). Coffee, dear?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>irritably; a trifle suspicious yet</i>). Yes, don't +I <i>always</i> take coffee?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>plaintively</i>). Don't scold me. I cannot endure +much more. To think Valeria–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>with decision, carving the steak</i>). Don't +think, then. Drop it. What's your other letter?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>sadly</i>). I don't care–I don't care for anything. +(<i>takes a biscuit</i>). The biscuits are burned.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> No, they are not. Never mind–give the letter +to me.</p> + +<p>(<span class='sc'>Maude</span> <i>gazes pensively at nothing.</i> <span class='sc'>Jack</span> <i>opens the letter +with a fork, and reads silently.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>to himself, muttering</i>). Of course, it's +money,–always money. Only a dollar and fifty cents +apiece,–a man ought not growl. Umph! "The happy +old days." Yes, I remember.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>meekly</i>). Remember what, Jack, dear? +(<i>He reads. Silence. She folds and unfolds Valeria's letter.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>suddenly</i>). By George!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>buttering a biscuit, slowly</i>). What is it?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> By George!</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36'></a>36</span><span class='player'>Maude</span> What is it? A woman might as well live +on–on Vesuvius!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> George Graham is in the New York legislature!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Professor George De Witt Graham!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>reading while he speaks</i>). The same, my dear. +We're to banquet him; it seems he's made a big speech.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> He was very handsome, and nice to us girls. +He pulled us all through chemistry.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>absently</i>). Yes, he was a good wire puller. +And now he's Senator, Senator in New York. That's +great.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> How do you know? Is that from him?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> This is the Alumni Letter.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Alumni?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>slowly and elaborately</i>). Yes, my dear, the +Alumni Letter,–Alumni. We graduated in 1902,–possibly +you remember the circumstances. You ought to.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> How long ago it seems,–how long, long +ago!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Thank you. It is. Three years.</p> + +<p>(<i>Silence. He stirs coffee.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> The lace for my dress gave out,–do you remember? +And I wore Paris muslin and Mamma was +sick.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> It was a great day! You remember your Aunt?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Poor Aunty! I can see her now–so 'fraid +I would forget–sitting on the edge of her chair! And +those lemon drops,–I thought I should faint when Bob +brought 'em up!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Yes, I remember how his shoes squeaked! And +Bob <i>would</i> usher!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Poor Aunty, I hope she is happier now out +among the Hottentots. Aren't they Hottentots?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>with scholarly precision</i>). Your Aunt, my +dear, is in Korea. Korea is an island just east of–</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>vaguely</i>). Well aren't the Hottentots there, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37'></a>37</span> +too? I thought they were all together over there somewhere,–all +fat and dusty together, with their queer hats +like plates,–all praying and embroidering lovely silks.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> As I was saying, Korea is east of–of Asia.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>taking another biscuit</i>). Asia was always +hard for me. The rivers had such dreadful names! +"1902! 1902! We are the people, who are you?" What +fun we had! Let's go back!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Haven't time. You write 'em greetings and so +on, and enclose three dollars. I wonder where old +Grindem is?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Old Grindem! You remember his side whiskers? +I couldn't bear that man! He was horrid on +Commencement day–wouldn't wait one second! Not +one second! And Valeria, (<i>she sighs heavily</i>). Poor +Valeria!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>cheerfully</i>). You looked mighty pretty that +day. You didn't need any lace.</p> + +<p>(<i>She sighs gently and shakes her head.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>with desperate cheerfulness</i>). And your hair +was like gold,–and those lilies-of-the-valley! I remember +I went so far as to think of Solomon. How is it? +"Solomon in all his glory–all his glory was–was–Solomon +was"–how is it?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> "Was not arrayed like one of these."</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> O yes–"like one of these," of course. "Solomon +in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." +You were a sort of female Solomon. Not a Mrs. Solomon,–perish +the thought!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>reproachfully</i>). Jack!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>still cheerfully</i>). Who gave you those lilies? +Come on–tell me now. This is a sort of anniversary +when "all things shall be made clear." Old Bulbus?</p> + +<p>(<i>She braces herself with visible effort.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> It was awfully hard on me, your just carrying +my roses and putting old Bulbus' lilies in your Solomon +hair.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38'></a>38</span><span class='player'>Maude</span> They weren't B-B-Bulbuses.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Honest?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> H-honest.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>gravely</i>). Whose were they?</p> + +<p>(<i>Silence. Maude twists her napkin.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>more gravely</i>). Whose were they, Mrs. Hamilton?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> You won't be mad?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Do I get "mad"? I am not a two-year-old!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Nor cross?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> Whose lilies were those, I ask!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>sitting very erect</i>). I am going to tell you!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>a trifle viciously</i>). See that you do.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> Hal sent those lilies.</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>incredulous</i>). Hal Taylor?</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>with a dead period</i>). Hal Taylor.</p> + +<p>(<i>He gazes at her sternly; she hides her face behind the +coffee urn.</i>)</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> <i>Therefore</i>, Valeria squints!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> O <i>don't</i>, Jack!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Jack</span> (<i>severely</i>). The vanity of woman!</p> + +<p><span class='player'>Maude</span> (<i>rising quickly and coming round to his +chair</i>). But I have your roses, Jack, in the box with +my dress! And I shall send Valeria a cut-glass berry-bowl–maybe +a Tiffany cut!</p> + +<p>(<i>He pulls her down to him as curtain falls.</i>)</p> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad1.jpg' alt='' /> +</div> + +<hr class='pb' /> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ad2.jpg' alt='' /> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sweet Girl Graduates, by Rea Woodman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATES *** + +***** This file should be named 31506-h.htm or 31506-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/5/0/31506/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Sweet Girl Graduates + +Author: Rea Woodman + +Release Date: March 4, 2010 [EBook #31506] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATES *** + + + + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATES + +by Rea Woodman + +Price 35 cents + +Eldridge Entertainment House + +Franklin, Ohio + +also + +Denver, Colorado + +844 South Logan St. + + + + +THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATES + +A FARCE + +In Three Acts and an Epilogue + +BY REA WOODMAN, M.A. + +Author of "She Organized a Club," "The Master's Birthday," +and "The Professor." + +Copyright, 1902, by Rea Woodman. + +Eldridge Entertainment House + +FRANKLIN, OHIO + + + + +To My Own Boys and Girls, The Class of 1902 + + + + +SYNOPSIS + +ACT. I. + Sitting Room of the De Smythe Home. + Wednesday Morning at 10 o'clock. + "We'll have the prettiest frock if it breaks the R. I. P. R. R.!" + +ACT. II. + Sitting Room of the De Smythe Home. + Thursday afternoon at 3 o'clock. + "Deep, deep are the meanings of life." + +ACT. III. + Hallway of the De Smythe Home. + Friday Morning at 9 o'clock. + "Mr. Bulbus, the lilies are lovely." + +EPILOGUE. + Dining Room in the home of Mr. and Mrs. Jack Hamilton. + A Friday Morning in May, 1905. + "Therefore, Valeria squints." + + + + +CHARACTERS + +Miss Maude De Smythe, The Sweet Girl, + Secretary of the Class of 1902. + +Mrs. De Smythe, Her Mother, + Who is threatened with nervous prostration. + +Mr. De Symthe, Her Father, + President of the R. I. P. Railroad. + +Mr. Jack Hamilton, Her Beau, + President of the Class of 1902. + +Miss Matilda Hoppenhoer, Her Aunt, + Who never graduated, thank Heaven! + +Miss Valeria Reynolds, Her Dearest Friend, + Whom she loves very much. + +_Madam_ Sateene, Her Dressmaker. + +_Madam_ Rantum, Her Elocution Teacher, (late of the Boston School.) + +Professor Grindem, Principal of the High School. + +Mr. Chinese Bulbus, The Florist. + +_Katherine_, The Maid. + + + + +ACT I. + + +(Sitting-room of the DeSmythe home; "confusion worse confounded;" +everything topsy-turvy. Mrs. DeSmythe on couch; Madam Sateene and she +looking over lace samples, of which they have a great number. Madam in +"swell" street costume.) + +_Mrs. De S._ (tossing samples in a heap). There's positively nothing +like it! Nothing anywhere near it! + +_Madam_ No, and nothing that can be used. + +_Mrs. De S._ (snatching a bit of lace from the heap). There! That's a +lover's knot pattern. Why, it-- + +_Madam_ No, that's a sailor's knot. There is a great difference. + +_Mrs. De S._ (vaguely). I don't see it. + +_Madam_ (patiently). You see the loop in this bends down and in this, it +bends--goes up. Every difference in the world, my dear Mrs. De +Smythe. + +_Mrs. De S._ (meekly, but convinced). Wouldn't it do? All bunched up? + +_Madam_ But it is not to be bunched up! + +_Mrs. De S._ (with a profound sigh). What can we do? And I threatened +with an attack! + +_Madam_ I don't know! (rises, sits down, then groans). I am at my wit's +end. Let me think. + +_Mrs. De S._ (with an inspiration). Take the lace off! + +_Madam_ (crushingly). My dear Mrs. De Smythe, the gown is modelled for +lace. + +_Mrs. De S._ (helplessly). Oh! + +(Madam sits in brown study, tapping her forehead.) + +_Madam_ Let me see; Wednesday morning. (looks at watch). Ten o'clock. It +might be done. Practically two days. (sits staring at wall). No, it +couldn't! We might use chiffon. + +_Mrs. De S._ Maude hates chiffon. + +_Madam_ (with professional coldness). Chiffon is a very artistic +trimming. + +_Mrs. De S._ (wearily). It may be--it may be, but you know Maude. + +(Enter Miss Hoppenhoer.) + +_Miss H._ (looks around; sniffs at the untidiness). Jennie, you look +ready to faint! + +_Mrs. De S._ Sit down. Don't stand there like--a--wooden Indian! + +_Miss H._ They don't keel over every few minutes, anyhow! (sits with a +thud). You look ready to faint! + +_Mrs. De S._ I feel ready to faint; the lace has given out. + +_Miss H._ (picking up things). The lace--? + +_Mrs. De S._ (with infinite patience). The lace, you know, for Maude's +dress. + +_Miss H._ (blankly). Eh--what dress? + +_Madam_ (in polite surprise). Why, Miss Hoppenhoer, what dress? + +_Mrs. De S._ (shrilly). What dress,--oh, Matilda! + +_Miss H._ (commencing to "straighten" room in earnest). Oh, is that all? +I thought the President had been assassinated! + +_Mrs. De S._ Matilda! I must say you don't seem much interested. I +should think you would,--your own niece, too! + +_Miss H._ (tragically). Look at this room,--look at this room! It is a +disgrace to a Christian community! Think of the breakfast we had--or +rather, that we didn't have! And yesterday! And now you down +sick--down sick! Does it take a month to graduate? (dusts an +upholstered chair vigorously). It's such (bang) such non-(bang) +nonsense! + +_Mrs. De S._ Nonsense to graduate! Matilda Hoppenhoer! Do stop +thrashing about! Ugh, that dust! (coughs weakly). Katherine will do +that. + +_Miss H._ (pounding sofa cushions). Katherine is busy; she has ten miles +of flutin' to flute! + +_Mrs. De S._ (coughing). Well, stop, anyway! My nerves are bad today. + +_Miss H._ You are worn out. We're all as cross as bears! + +_Madam_ (emerging from a brown study). What shall I do? And only a yard +needed! I think chiffon-- + +_Miss H._ (straightening out a rug). Use ribbon. + +_Madam_ (with dignity). They used ribbon last year. + +_Miss H._ Fringe, then,--fringe is very dressy. + +_Madam_ They used fringe two years ago. + +_Miss H._ (snapping her up). Well, what's the idea? To use something +that hasn't never been used? + +(Maude comes in, breathless.) + +_Maude_ (sitting down hard). Goodness, I'm tired! Auntie, your grammar +is bad--very bad. What are you doing? + +_Miss H._ (sarcastically). Getting you ready to graduate. + +_Maude_ (peeling off her gloves). Well sir, I've just been racing +around! O, Valeria's going to have chiffon. + +_Madam_ (dramatically). Chiffon! + +_Maude_ (tossing her hat on the floor). Yes, and it's awfully pretty. + +_Madam_ Chiffon! Is she? (Sits, from sheer weakness.) + +_Maude_ (beginning to undo sundry packages). Yes, and--why, what's the +matter? + +_Madam_ (gasping). Chiffon! + +_Maude_ (a light dawning). Am I? Am I? + +_Miss H._ (winding yarn into a ball). Am you what? Sit down, child, sit +down, you look like a statute! + +_Maude_ Am I to have chiffon? + +_Mrs. De S._ (firmly). You are. + +_Maude_ We can't both have chiffon! I won't be a copy-tale! I won't! + +_Mrs. De S._ (sitting erect and speaking with authority). Listen, +dearie. The lace has given out. + +_Maude_ (stamping her foot). Get more! + +_Mrs. De S._ We can't. + +_Madam_ And the gown is so modelled that we can use nothing else. + +_Maude_ I won't have chiffon! I won't--I won't--I won't. + +_Mrs. De S._ (warningly). Do not let Madame Sateene see you in a +passion. + +_Maude_ Madam would be in a passion herself! She knows how I feel! O +dear! (begins to sob). Everything is going wrong! I w-w-won't +graduate, so there now! + +_Miss H._ (mounting a chair to straighten a picture). That's sensible! +You needn't. I never did. + +_Mrs. De S._ Matilda, do not encourage the child! Of course she must +graduate. Everybody does. + +_Miss H._ (sarcastically). If everybody stood on their heads, I suppose +we'd have to! + +_Mrs. De S._ You cannot judge in such matters, Matilda. You are very +old-fashioned. + +_Miss H._ (upsetting contents of work basket in lap). Maybe so, maybe +so, but I am alive, and that child'll be dead if-- + +_Mrs. De S._ (holds her head). Matilda, for heaven's sake, stop! + +_Maude_ I'll telephone Valeria. May be she-- + +_Mrs. De S._ (with decision). Maude, sit down! You will do nothing of +the sort. Mrs. Reynolds is such a talker! The whole town would know it +in ten minutes. Besides, at the Tuesday Club she cut me--actually +cut me! I will not permit it. + +_Maude_ I don't think that ought to count, now. I suppose I have to have +something to wear. + +_Madam_ What do you say to a Paris muslin? + +_Maude_ (listlessly). What is a Paris muslin? + +_Madam_ A sort of fine organdie. + +_Maude_ Swell? + +_Mrs. De S._ Maudie! Would Madam Sateene propose anything else? She +doesn't want you to look like a fright. Now, I think,--(pauses, +listening). Why there is papa's voice! + +_Maude_ Papa, bless his old bones! Papa, come in here, quick! Hurry up! + +(Mr. De Smythe comes in hastily.) + +_Mr. De S._ What is it--what is it? Is Mamma worse? + +_Maude_ (in tragic attitude). I can't graduate! + +_Mr. De S._ (with profound astonishment). Can't graduate? Can't +graduate? Didn't you pass? + +_Maude_ (scornfully). Pass! That doesn't matter! My dress, my dress, my +dress! + +_Mr. De S._ (immensely relieved). Oh, your dress! Isn't it fine enough? + +_Madam_ Why, you see, Mr. De Smythe, the-- + +_Maude_ (sobbing and clinging to his neck). I got to have chiffon, ugly, +limp, old chiffon! It is so--so--d--drabbled! + +_Mr. De S._ Well, never mind! Hus-s-h! You'll make Mamma worse. You +needn't graduate! Never mind. + +_Maude_ Oh, oh! + +_Mr. De S._ Never mind, little girl, you needn't graduate! Never mind! + +_Maude_ Oh, I--I must. The presents are coming in. + +_Miss H._ (shortly). Return 'em. + +_Maude_ You wouldn't, if they were yours! You know you wouldn't! Oh, +you're all so mean! + +_Madam_ (soothingly). Let's have Paris muslin. It'll be lovely. + +_Mrs. De S._ It's too stiff. + +_Miss H._ And sounds too furrin! Haven't we got any American muslin? I'd +rather wear gunny sack. + +_Mr. De S._ Hurrah for Matilda! A female Patrick Henry! + +_Mrs. De S._ Papa, don't speak so loud! + +_Mr. De S._ (contritely). I beg your pardon, Mamma,--your poor head! + +_Maude_ I want something pretty! Not--not just--just any old thing! + +_Madam_ (with awful dignity). Paris muslin is beautiful. + +_Maude_ The other girls have silk. + +_Mr. De S._ Then you must have silk, too,--decidedly. Mustn't she, +Mamma? + +_Mrs. De S._ (sighing). I do not know, Papa, I do not know. This is a +dreadful time,--a dreadful time. I fear I shall not live to see her +graduate! (sighs dismally). But you will all enjoy it. Matilda, will +you heat the salt bags? + +(Miss Hoppenhoer bounces out.) + +_Maude_ (flies to couch). O, you precious, precious Mamma! Don't you +dare get sick and die! + +(Katherine opens the door.) + +_Katherine_ Miss Reynolds and Mr. Hamilton. + +_Maude_ Hello, Valeria, how you vas? Jack, did you get 'em? + +_Jack_ (bows to ladies, shakes hands with Mr. De Smythe). Couldn't +_Maude_, nothing but red. + +_Maude_ Red! I can't wear red! Madam Sateene, can I? + +_Madam_ (after due deliberation). Yes, you can. You will need a touch +of color. + +_Valeria_ Why don't you carry pink ones? + +_Jack_ Pink roses are lovely. You carried pink ones at the Junior +Banquet, didn't you, Val? + +_Valeria_ (thoughtfully). Did I? Yes, I did! Bridesmaid, I think they +were. + +_Maude_ I hate pink roses! + +_Mrs. De S._ Maudie, Maudie, do not be so vehement! + +_Mr. De S._ Never mind about the roses. They are a side issue. The +question is, "Wherewithal shall you be clothed!" I must be off to earn +your daily cake. Let's decide. + +_Maude_ (pensively). Jack, do you like Paris muslin? + +_Jack_ Is it anything like Plaster of Paris? + +_Maude_ Jack, behave! I am so worried! (signs of tears.) + +_Valeria_ She's just tired, poor dear; don't tease her, Jack. + +_Maude_ (with dignity). I am not tired. He can't tease me, thank you, +_Valeria_. I think, Madam, I will have Paris muslin. Silk is so common. + +_Jack_ Why don't you have bobinet? + +_Valeria_ Why, Jack, bobinet is-- + +_Jack_ I know what bobinet is; heavy and kind of corded,--dead swell. + +_Maude_ That's pique! + +_Mr. De S._ Well, children, defer that discussion until the Fourth of +July. Is there time for a whole new rig? + +_Madam_ Y-e-s,--I think so. + +_Mr. De S._ Cheer up, everybody! We'll have the prettiest frock in the +outfit, if it breaks the R.I.P. Railroad! We are the people! I must go +hunt those papers--things are stirred up so! Good-bye, Mamma, don't +worry! Madam Sateene will save us! (goes). + +_Madam_ (rising with alacrity). I shall go look at Paris muslins. +Shall I bring you samples? + +_Mrs. De S._ No, I am not able to decide. We trust to you absolutely, +_Madam_ Sateene, absolutely. (groans). I believe I am going to have an +attack! Oh, dear, my nerves! They actually twitch! I wish Matilda were +of some use in such matters. Because she never graduated, she thinks +_Maude_ shouldn't! Jack, do you see my smelling salts? + +(Jack hunts for the salts. Girls talk apart. Madam makes memoranda.) + +_Madam_ Miss Maude, how would you like ribbon, very narrow satin ribbon? + +_Maude_ Kate Saunders had that in--let me see,--oh, in 1900. + +_Valeria_ And that French Girl,--Giggre--wore it last year. + +_Madam_ O dear! (grimly). Anybody ever use rope? + +_Jack_ (grinning). Only men--for neck-ties mostly. I can't find it, Mrs. +De Smythe. + +_Mrs. De S._ Then Matilda has put it in the medicine chest. She is so +neat! I can't help it--I don't want to have an attack! What shall I +do? But I am afraid I--I am going to have one! + +_Maude_ (with signs of tears). O, Mamma, don't have an attack! What +shall I do? No roses, no dress, no nothing! + +_Madam_ (resolutely). Well, you shall have a dress, about noon, to give +you (with a tragic sweep of hand) if it is my last effort! Mrs. De +Smythe, I'll drop in and report! (Goes hastily.) + +_Valeria_ I must go. I stopped for a list of my committee. + +_Maude_ (absently). Don't go. What committee? + +_Valeria_ Committee on Decorations. + +_Maude_ (vaguely). Committee on--? + +_Valeria_ Decorations. Wake up! + +_Maude_ (goes to desk). O yes! (rummages). This desk is disgraceful! +Here it is! (Reads crumpled paper.) "Be it resolved--" goodness, +that's about poor Ned Woodruff! Jack, who was on that committee? + +_Jack_ (smoothing Valeria's gloves on his knee). Miss Secretary, I do +not keep the minutes. + +_Maude_ Well, you were presiding! (rummaging). Here it is,--six,--is +that enough? Five, rather,--Hal Taylor won't serve. + +_Valeria_ (taking the list). O yes, he will. + +_Maude_ Said he wouldn't! Told Mabel Hopeland so last night. + +_Valeria_ (calmly). Yes, he will. + +_Maude_ Well, he said he wouldn't. + +_Valeria_ (pocketing the list, unmoved). He will if I ask him. + +_Maude_ (shutting desk with a bang). Oh! + +(Enter Miss Hoppenhoer, with shawls, salt bags, etc.) + +_Miss H._ Jennie, you'd better go to bed. + +_Mrs. De S._ (sadly). I will. I hope I shall not have an attack. + +_Miss H._ Attack! We'll all have an attack before Friday night! (She +busies herself about the couch. Valeria and Maude go out.) + +_Miss H._ Now, can you walk, do you think? I'd better call Katherine, +hadn't I? Katherine! Be careful of that bag--it's hot--awful hot! Lean +on me--(they go out, but Miss Hoppenhoer runs back to pick up things). + +_Jack_ Can't I help you! A fellow never knows what to do +when--when--anybody has an attack. + +(Maude returns.) + +_Jack_ Come on, Maude, I've got an old tandem out there. Let's take a +spin. + +_Miss H._ (dropping a shawl and two bottles). Got a what? + +_Jack_ Go get ready, Maude. A tandem. + +(Maude goes.) + +_Miss H._ (moveless with astonishment). You ride it? + +_Jack_ (respectfully). Yes, ma'am. + +_Miss H._ (aghast). Ride it? + +_Jack_ (fascinated). Yessum. (earnestly). Yes, ma'am. + +_Miss H._ Ride a tantrum! Well, such goings on! And all of it comes from +graduating! Thank Heaven, I never graduated! + +(Commences to pick up things. Curtain.) + + + + +ACT II. + + +(Sitting-room of the De Smythe home. Bouquets with cards attached. +Maude's desk, open, in confusion. Her hat and gloves on a chair. Jack, +Miss Rantum and Maude, latter "practicing.") + +_Miss R._ (decidedly). It is best to hold it in one hand. + +_Jack_ (surprised beyond measure). Oh, are you going to read it? + +_Maude_ (standing in the middle of the room). W-e-l-l, not exactly read +it, you know. + +_Maude_ I really know it--almost. + +_Jack_ Then don't hold the paper. + +_Maude_ (apprehensively). Oh, but if I should forget! + +_Jack_ (confidently). You won't! + +_Maude_ I might! Oh, it's very easy for you to say orate, for you can! + +_Jack_ (conscious of ability). Yes, but you could, too. + +_Miss R._ What is the subject of your oration, Mr. Hamilton? + +_Jack_ (modestly). "Universality in Statecraft." + +_Maude_ And it's a dandy! You ought to hear him when he comes to, "For +of all the nations, builded of power and sealed with blood--" (in +tremendous tones). + +_Jack_ Oh, now, Maude, I say, let up. + +_Maude_ Well, honest, you are fine. No I should die if I forgot,--just +simply die. + +_Miss R._ It is wiser for her to hold her manuscript, I think. This is +an essay, not an oration. + +_Maude_ (sitting down and getting up, a la Delsarte). Of course, Jack, +don't you see? It is an essay, not an oration. Now, did I get up +right? + +_Miss R._ Try it again. + +_Maude_ (repeats the operation and advances very stiffly). Is that it? + +_Jack_ (judicially). Too corky. + +_Miss R._ Be leisurely. Leisure is elegance. And bend more. Try it +again,--so. (illustrates). + +_Maude_ (doing likewise). I do hope I won't drop anything. How was that? + +_Miss R._ (hesitating). A trifle--just a trifle--well, er-stiff. Of all +things, a lady must rise well. + +_Jack_ Yes, not as if she were shot out of a cannon! + +_Maude_ Jack, you keep still! + +_Miss R._ Try it again--so. (illustrates). Bend from the waist. + +(Maude does so amid solemn silence.) + +_Jack_ (graciously). That was better. + +_Miss R._ Now, go on. + +_Maude_ (reading). "Life's Inner Meanings." + +_Miss R._ Louder and more deliberately. "Life's Inner Meanings." + +_Maude_ "Life's Inner Meanings." + +_Miss R._ Go on, not too fast. Don't hold it so high and bend the body +forward from the waist. + +_Maude_ (in high shrill tones). "As a traveler, among the mighty +mountains, fails to realize the height to which he has climbed--" +(Stops, winded.) + +_Miss R._ Compose yourself, compose yourself! Your voice is--well, +unnatural. + +_Jack_ Yes, it's squeaky. + +_Maude_ (with heat). It isn't! You're awfully mean! I've got to be +heard! + +_Miss R._ Try it again. Use a deeper tone. "As a traveler, among the +mighty mountains, fails to realize the height--" Now, go on. + +_Maude_ (nervously). "As a traveler, among the mighty mountains, fails +to realize the height to which he has climbed, so we, in Life's dusty +pathway, cannot estimate the distance we have traveled." O, Miss +Rantum, that isn't right! + +_Miss R._ No, not exactly, not precisely right. You see, you-- + +_Jack_ Why don't you use "journeyed" instead of "traveled"? + +_Maude_ (ignoring him). Miss Rantum, what is the matter with it? I'm not +doing as well as I did last week! + +_Miss R._ No, you really aren't, but-- + +_Jack_ I say, why don't you change-- + +_Maude_ (imploringly). What is the matter, Miss Rantum? + +_Miss R._ It isn't firm. You don't seem to know what you are saying. + +_Maude_ (in grave-yard tones). "As the traveler, among the mighty +mountains, fails to--" + +_Jack_ (ditto). Finally, my beloved brethren-- + +_Miss R._ (hastily). Lighter, but firmly. Use a conversational tone, "As +the traveler, among the mountains;" "It is a very pleasant day," "How +do you do?" See? + +_Maude_ (in light, quivering tones). "As a traveler, among the +mountains--mighty mountains--fails to realize the height to which he +has climbed--has climbed, so we, in Life's dusty pathway, cannot +estimate the distance we have traveled." + +_Jack_ "Climbed--climbed." I don't like "climbed" there; wouldn't +"attained" be better? + +_Maude_ Professor Grindem didn't say so. + +_Jack_ "Attained" is a prettier word. + +_Maude_ (earnestly). Do you think so? + +_Miss R._ "Climbed" is better. It is a real traveler and real mountains, +hence "climbed." "Attained" sounds as if it were ideals, you know. + +_Maude_ (sighing profoundly). Yes, I think so, too. Besides, it's too +late to change it now. I'd forget. + +_Jack_ All right! "On with the dance." I'm no judge. + +_Miss R._ Go on with the next paragraph. + +_Maude_ The next isn't a paragraph. + +_Miss R._ (very patiently and gently). Well, go on with the next. + +_Maude_ "Among life's bright flowers, its rugged slopes, its pleasant +walleys--" + +_Miss R._ Valleys. + +_Maude_ "Its pleasant walleys, its--" + +_Miss R._ Valleys. + +_Maude_ (nervously). Let me start over. + +_Miss R._ Well, only use deeper tones. (She sits down.) + +_Maude_ (very slowly). "Among life's bright flowers, its rugged slopes, +its pleasant walleys--valleys, its dangerous pitfalls, we cannot +realize the magnitood of the common things about us." + +_Miss R._ "Magnitude," not "tood." + +_Maude_ "The magnitude of the common things about us." + +_Miss R._ Touch "common things" more lightly; "of the common things +about us,"--"common things." + +_Maude_ (takes a sprint). We cannot realize the magnitood--tude--of the +"common--" oh, dear, I can never say it!" + +_Miss R._ Yes, you can. You are doing well,--remarkably well. + +_Maude_ O Miss Rantum! + +_Jack_ You are, honest Injun! It'll be dandy. + +_Miss R._ Please read,--are you tired standing? + +_Maude_ (dismally). No,--I got to get it. + +_Miss R._ Please read that second paragraph--sentence--again. + +_Maude_ (taking a brace). Among life's bright flowers, its rugged +slopes-- + +_Miss R._ R-r-r-rugged slopes. + +_Maude_ Rugged slopes. + +_Miss R._ No, r-r-rugged slopes. Trill your "r." + +_Maude_ (flatly). I can't. + +_Jack_ What's the use? I don't think she need. People only do that on +Decoration Day. "Br-rave, r-rugged heroes," you know. + +(Enter Katherine.) + +_Katherine_ Miss Maude, a letter from you--for you, I mean. (Hands one +in awestruck manner and escapes.) + +_Jack_ That girl is scared to death at anything that looks like writing. +Did you see her? + +_Miss R._ (leaning back in her chair). Is she of foreign extraction? + +_Jack_ No, foreign distraction. + +_Maude_ (falling into a chair and opening letter). From Valeria. She +can't come over this afternoon. She's got to, to--I can't make it out. +(spells slowly). B-a-an, B-a-n-- + +_Jack_ Banana, maybe. She's got to banana. Let me see it, I'm used to +her hand. + +_Maude_ Indeed! (elaborately). Indeed, you are! Maybee this is your +note? + +_Jack_ You needn't get so mad. Let her banana. I don't care! + +_Maude_ (springing up). Neither do I! Take the note! + +(Katherine appears at the door.) + +_Katherine_ (in much trepidation). Perfesser Grindem. + +_Jack_ (pleasantly). All right Katherine, we are perpared! + +(Enter Professor Grindem.) + +_Grindem_ (bows profoundly, repeatedly). Ah, good morning, ladies, good +morning! Mr. Hamilton, ah, good morning! How is the work progressing? + +(Jack shakes hands. Miss Rantum bows distantly.) + +_Maude_ (tearing note into tiny bits). I shall be scared to death. + +_Grindem_ (cordially). Not at all, Miss Maude, ah, not at all! Not at +all! You will feel power,--power is ahem!--power is a great thing--a +great thing. + +_Maude_ (dejectedly). Yes, Professor. + +(Enter Mrs. De Smythe) + +_Grindem_ May I hear the--ah, Mrs. De Smythe, good morning! + +(Mrs. De Smythe adjusts herself on couch.) + +_Mrs. De S._ Yes, Maudie, dear, read it all to us. O Matilda, Matilda, +my salts! Now, Maudie! + +(Miss Hoppenhoer bustles in and takes her station behind couch.) + +_Maude_ (painfully taking "position"). "Life's Inner Meanings." + +_Mrs. De S._ A very pretty subject, I think. + +_Miss H._ (sniffs). A very pretty broad one, I think! + +_Maude_ (impressively). "Life's Inner Meanings." + +_Miss R._ Stand straighter, Miss Maude--so. + +_Jack_ I think that's awkward,--looks as if she were going to cry "Lay +on, Macduff!" + +_Maude_ Why, Jack Hamilton! + +_Mrs. De S._ Jack's only joking. Why don't you go on? + +_Maude_ "Life's Inner Meanings," (then, very rapidly). "As a traveler +among the mighty mountains, fails to realize the height to which he +has climbed, so we, in Life's dusty pathway, cannot estimate the +distance we have traveled. Among life's bright flowers, its rugged +slopes, its pleasant walleys--valleys, its dangerous pitfalls, we +cannot realize the magnitood--tude--magnitude of the common things +about us." (Stops, breathless.) + +_Miss R._ Don't sway so. Hold the body firm. + +_Mrs. De S._ There's no hurry, child. + +_Jack_ That pace would kill! + +_Miss R._ (to Professor Grindem). Her voice is not deep enough. It lacks +impressiveness. + +_Grindem_ Yes, it lacks power--power, I should say. + +_Maude_ (near tears). I can't get a new voice for this old essay! + +_Miss H._ Yes, you ought to; you ought to be made over if you're going +to graduate! + +_Mrs. De S._ Do go on; I am very fond of the next part. + +_Maude_ (continues). "We stand upon the brink--" + +_Miss R._ More rapidly there, "We stand upon the brink!" + +_Maude_ (in exact imitation). "We stand upon the brink." + +_Jack_ (ditto). That is, if we don't fall off-- + +_Maude_ Make Jack be still or I--I--can't! + +_Jack_ Beg your pardon, but really, 'a brink,' you know. + +_Maude_ "We stand upon the brink--who can guess what say the dashing +waters beneath? Who can interpret the silence of the eternal stars? We +rest in the walley--valley, who can understand the whispering of the +leaves? Who can read the secrets of the ocean blue? O, deep are the +inner meanings,--deep, deep are the mysteries of nature, infinite are +the suggestions of life!" + +_Grindem_ Too, rapidly, Miss Maude,--too rapidly. Those are grand +sentiments,--give 'em time--give 'em time. + +_Miss R._ There is not enough emotion in the climax: "Deep, deep are the +mysteries of nature!" Read it (in a cellerage tone). "Deep, deep are +the mysteries of nature!" + +_Maude_ (using the "vox humana stop"). "Deep, deep are the mysteries of +nature!" + +_Mrs. De S._ (soothingly). You are not doing so well, Maudie, today. + +_Miss H._ No, I think you get worse. + +_Maude_ Nobody c-could! You all find fault. (weeps). You couldn't do any +better--none of you--so there now! + +_Miss H._ Never mind! It doesn't matter. Don't graduate. + +_Maude_ (still weeping). It does matter! It d-does! I don't want to +disgrace the family. + +_Miss H._ Ought to have commenced sooner, then, if you didn't! + +_Voice from without._ Who's going to disgrace the family? I'd like to +see 'em try it. + +(As Mr. De Smythe appears, Professor Grindem and Jack go out, in deep +converse.) + +_Maude_ I am! + +_Mr. De S._ Oh, no, you're not,--not by the R.I.P. Railroad! +(cheerfully). You won't be permitted to, Miss! Doesn't the dress fit? + +_Maude_ (with intense scorn). The dress! Oh, Papa, my piece! + +_Mr. De S._ O, you're piece! Say it to me! I haven't heard it today. + +_Maude_ You're making fun of me! + +_Miss H._ The child is worn out. + +_Maude_ I am not worn out! I am not a baby! (collapses). I wish I was +d-d-dead! + +_Mrs. De S._ O dear! O dear! Maudie, child! + +_Maude_ I just w-wish I was. + +_Mr. De S._ W-h-y-ee! When I have brought you your present! I am +astonished! + +_Maude_ Have you? Oh, Papa, have you? Let me see! + +_Mr. De S._ (taking out of his pocket a tiny case). No more tears? + +_Maude_ (rubbing eyes hard). No--never. + +_Mr. De S._ Honest? I've never seen so many tears. We are a Johnstown +flood lately. (Gives jeweler's case.) + +_Maude_ A watch! A w-a-t-c-h!! (flies at him). + +(Re-enter Jack and Mr. Bulbus.) + +_Mr. Bulbus._ (bows awkwardly). I come to see about them decorations. + +_Maude_ (rapturously). A watch! + +_Mr. De S._ Guess we don't need 'em, Mr. Bulbus. There is something +going on at the school that night. + +_Maude_ I was afraid it would be books. (She and Jack examine the watch +aside.) + +_Mrs. De S._ We might have a reception. + +_Miss H._ Jennie, you'll be sick! Mark my words, you'll have an attack! + +_Mrs. De S._ But it's so nearly over-- + +_Mr. De S._ Ought we to have one? Does everybody? + +_Miss H._ (sarcastically). Does everybody have what? Have an attack? + +_Mr. De S._ (patiently). A reception. + +_Mrs. De S._ It's the thing to do, isn't it, Miss Rantum? + +_Miss R._ (looks up from Maude's MS., which she has been studying). I +beg your pardon, Mrs. De Smythe? + +_Mrs. De S._ It's the thing to do--to have a reception, isn't it? + +_Miss R._ They always do in Boston. + +_Maude_ Do what in Boston? + +_Miss R._ They have receptions. (with great dignity). + +_Jack_ And Beans. + +(Miss Rantum straightens up to retort, but Mr. De Smythe cuts in.) + +_Mr. De S._ And here is Mr. Bulbus waiting! He is a business man, you +know. When do you want him, Jennie? + +_Mr. B._ (confusedly). Yes, sir. + +_Maude_ (sweetly). You'd just as soon wait, wouldn't you, Mr. Bulbus? + +_Mr. B._ (blushing, drops hat). Yes, I-d--I'd--I'd rather. + +_Mrs. De S._ We must decide while Mr. Bulbus is here, so we can get his +suggestions. + +_Mr. B._ (standing like a stork). Yes'sum. + +_Miss R._ (preparing to depart). Well, Miss Maude, I think we will not +need another rehearsal. + +_Maude_ Oh, Miss Rantum, do you think I can do it all right? + +_Miss R._ Yes, I think so. You must rest this evening. + +_Maude_ The Juniors are to give us a spread. + +_Miss R._ (definitely). But you must not go. Mr. De Smythe, may I speak +to you? + +_Mr. De S._ Go on with your reception business. Mr. Bulbus hasn't all +day. (Goes out with Miss Rantum.) + +_Mr. B._ (changes weight to other foot). Yes, sir. + +_Mrs. De S._ Won't you be seated, Mr. Bulbus? + +_Mr. B._ (sits on edge of small chair). Yessum, thank yer. + +_Maude_ Let's have just the graduating class. + +_Jack_ No, I'm dead tired of the push! Let's have a picked +crowd,--friends of "the highly contracting parties," you know. + +_Mrs. De S._ We ought to have your professors. + +_Maude_ We'd have to invite Grindem, and he's so awfully-- + +_Mrs. De S._ Professor Grindem is a very delightful gentleman, Maudie! + +_Jack_ (in imitation). Yes, ahem, he has--power--ahem,--power is--power +is a wonderful thing, a wonderful thing! + +_Mrs. De S._ Well, as to the decorations. + +_Maude_ Smilax from the chandelier-- + +_Jack_ Don't let's have any smilax. It's too much like funerals. + +(Mr. De Smythe returns.) + +_Mr. De S._ Well, Mr. Bulbus, have they decided? + +_Mrs. De S._ No, Papa, we can't decide who to have. + +_Mrs. De S._ Let that slide now, and go into a committee of the whole on +decorations. + +_Maude_ Let's--but I don't want the faculty. + +_Jack_ You'd like to have Professor Graham. All girls are gone on him. + +_Mrs. De S._ We needn't order cut flowers. All of Maudie's--(stops to +cough). + +_Miss H._ (throws down her darning). Jennie, you'll have an attack! I +won't be no committee! I won't encourage this nonsense. Education is +all right; everybody needs a little,--enough to make an honest livin'. +But look at your mother, look at your father! They're plumb wore out +settin' up nights to get you graduated! In my day when girls got +through school they quit, they didn't go to Commencin' and carrin' on! +I won't be no committee of the whole nor no other kind. When you're +all dead nobody can blame me! (walks out, sniffing disdainfully). + +_Mrs. De S._ (rising hastily). Oh, dear, now she'll go sweep every room +in the house! (goes out in haste). + +_Maude_ (springs up). Mamma mustn't wear herself out. It would be all +right if Auntie had graduated. (goes in haste). + +_Mr. De S._ (gazing helplessly after them all). Matilda's Declaration of +Independence! (seating himself resignedly). Draw up your chairs, +gentlemen. We'll have to 'wait til the clouds roll by'. + +(Curtain falls on the three men looking at each other silently.) + + + + +ACT III. + + +(Hallway of the DeSmythe house. Flowers on extra tables, cards +attached. Door bell in vestibule rings constantly; flowers and +packages arriving. Maude's picture hat, gloves and fan on chair. Mr. +Bulbus on ladder, measuring the wall. Katherine enters and re-enters, +with flowers and gifts. Miss Hoppenhoer flits in and out. Everybody +nervous.) + +_Katherine_ The bill's been a-ringin' all morning like that. (arranges +flowers). + +_Mr. B._ I should think you'd be tired. Ain't yer? + +_Katherine_ No, it's as exciting as a wedding. + +_Mr. B._ You wimmen like weddin's. I never see a woman as didn't. + +_Katherine_ (wonderingly). Are you going to decorate the hall? + +_Mr. B._ (largely). Of course,--palms and ropes of smilax-- + +(Enter Jack, carrying his hat and gloves.) + +_Jack_ (agreeably). Good morning, Katherine. I let myself in, you not +being a regiment. (Katherine goes). Good morning, Mr. Bulbus. You look +pretty festive in here. (examines bouquets, reading cards aloud and +commenting). "Compliments of Harold Taylor."--Umph, got them here in +time, I should say. "With love of Edith."--girls always put on "with +love of." "Wishing you a joyous day. Dick Dowell." That's nice of +Dick, considering the late unpleasantness. "Lucile," of course; +"Lucile" in white and gold! A girl couldn't graduate unless she had +three 'Luciles' and a 'Maurine!' Golden Gate roses! Whew, that means +dough! Professor Graham, I'll bet! He's got dough and cheek-- + +(Maude runs down the stairs.) + +_Jack_ O, hello, Maude! (gives a long whistle). Aren't we fine? Swagger! + +_Maude_ (imploringly). Jack, how do I look? + +_Jack_ Turn around,--slowly. (Maude revolves very slowly.) + +_Maude_ (anxiously). Well? + +_Jack_ You look--you look--out of sight! By George, you do! + +_Maude_ (caressing her dress skirt). You like the train? + +(Mr. Bulbus gets down and goes out, unnoticed by Maude.) + +_Jack_ It's splendid. You're a--a queen! I'd kiss you-- + +_Maude_ (startled). H-u-s-h! Mr. Bulbus! + +_Jack_ (coolly). Oh, he's gone. + +_Maude_ Goodness, what if he'd been there! + +_Jack_ (comfortably). He wasn't. + +_Maude_ (trying to see the back of her train in glass). But you didn't +know it! + +_Jack_ Don't you think I didn't know it! 'Spose I want to make the +poor duffer green with envy? I can't kiss you anyway, you're too fine. + +_Maude_ No, I can't even sit down! Jack, you look awfully handsome. + +_Jack_ Thank you. Would you wear a rose? + +_Maude_ Of course--one of Dick's. Nice of Dick, wasn't it? (gets one; +puts it on; an operation requiring time and patience). + +_Jack_ Don't leave so much green show. I want a contrast, not a study in +tints. + +_Maude_ Don't touch me! Hold your arms out straight. + +_Jack_ (standing like a sign post). Then hurry up! I am not the stuff +martyrs are made of. + +_Maude_ Is that all right? + +_Jack_ Stand off and get the effect. How can I tell? + +_Maude_ (standing back). Put down your arms! + +_Jack_ (obediently). Well? + +_Maude_ (with enthusiasm). Perfectly lovely! My, I shall be proud of +you! For pity's sake, don't look at me! + +_Jack_ Can't help it. + +_Maude_ I don't mean now--goosey! I mean when I read. If I should +forget! + +_Jack_ You won't! Keep your eye on Old South Church and-- + +_Maude_ On what? + +_Jack_ I beg your pardon. On Miss Rantum. + +_Maude_ Oh! It must be time,--where is everybody? + +_Jack_ I'm here, (sits on arm of chair and gazes at her.) + +_Maude_ O you, yes! But I mean mamma! I am so nervous! + +_Jack_ You girls just try to be nervous. You think it's becoming. + +(Enter Mrs. De Smythe, in black silk.) + +_Mrs. De S._ The carriages have come. Where can Papa be? + +_Maude_ (in dismay). O, it isn't time, is it? O horrors, where is my +essay? Jack, please look in my desk. + +(Jack dashes out.) + +_Maude_ Mamma, is my hair all right? + +_Mrs. De S._ Yes, Maudie, yes, (dismally) you look lovely. + +(Jack dashes in, essay in hand.) + +_Jack_ Here it is, but don't practice now. + +_Maude_ (pacing the floor). "As a traveler, among the mighty mountains, +fails to realize--to realize the heights to which he has climbed, so +we, in Life's dusty pathway, cannot estimate the distance we have--we +have,--cannot estimate the distance we have--" There, I knew I didn't +know it! What shall I do? + +_Jack_ (brilliantly). Open your manuscript. + +(Katherine enters, with letters and small package.) + +_Maude_ (unseeing, resumes). "Deep, deep are the mysteries of nature, +infinite are--are--" + +_Mrs. De S._ Maudie, here is a letter from Uncle John. (withholds +package). + +_Maude_ (drops essay). O, I wonder what he sent! Is this all! + +_Mrs. De S._ Why, Maudie! Read it. + +_Maude_ (tears it open; reads). "My dearest Niece: Hail to the happy +day! 'Way down here in South Africa, 'mong monkeys and Boers, I feel +the excitement. We don't graduate down here, but we know people who +do. Never, I know, has the house of De Smythe been so shaken. In honor +thereof, I am sending a--a--" O, goodness, I can't--"a diamond +ring,"--a diamond! Hasn't it come? + +_Mrs. De S._ Does he say when? + +_Maude_ (referring to the letter). He says "I am sending--" Katherine +is such a stupy! (calls). Katherine-- + +_Mrs. De S._ Maybe this is it. (gives package). + +(Katherine comes with pink roses.) + +_Maude_ O, O. O.! Isn't it a beauty! Jack, look! + +_Jack_ (just glancing). Umph! Yes, I see. + +_Maude_ Dear Uncle John! Everybody is so good! It's bigger than +_Valeria_'s. Must I wear gloves? I don't care, I just won't. + +_Mrs. De S._ Your roses, Maudie. + +_Maude_ O, your roses, Jack! They're lovely! + +_Jack_ (slowly). The red weren't pretty, so I got pink. I hope you'll-- + +_Maude_ (rapturously). I just love pink roses! + +(Katherine comes in with a big package.) + +_Maude_ (tearing away pink ribbons and tissue papers). "With Valeria's +dearest love." A bonbon dish! Isn't it lovely! And violets on it! + +_Jack_ (with a grimace). It will hold two pounds! + +_Maude_ It isn't a bit too big! If you won't fill it--well, there are +others. I'm forgetting my piece. "Deep, deep are the mysteries--" + +_Jack_ Are you going to say it? + +_Maude_ No, but I must really know it, you know, so I can look up often. + +_Jack_ "O, I see clearly," said the blind man. + +_Mrs. De S._ Dear, dear, this is just as if you were getting married! +(sinks into a chair; she has been examining the flowers). The presents +and the flowers and the carriages and--and everything. O, suppose you +were--suppose you were! + +_Maude_ (with intense indignation). But I'm not! I'm graduating! + +_Jack_ (disconsolately). I don't think they're much alike! + +_Mrs. De S. But where is Papa? + +_Jack_ As I came, I saw him at the drug store. + +_Mrs. De S._ The drug store! Why in the world--oh, I remember now,--I +sent him. We'll never get off. + +(Miss Hoppenhoer's voice is heard from somewhere, "O Jennie!") + +_Mrs. De S._ (rising and collecting things dropped). I wonder what's +happened now? I hope Papa isn't killed! (hurries out). + +_Maude_ (gazing at her ring). Aren't my presents pretty? + +_Jack_ Yes, but you are prettier. + +_Maude_ (archly). Thank you, Mr. Hamilton, but aren't you a little rash? +(holds roses to her face by way of contrast.) + +_Jack_ (critically). No, I think not, on mature consideration. Your hair +looks like gold--California gold, and those lovely lilies! Who gave +you those lilies-of-the-valley? (suddenly). + +_Maude_ (evasively). Why California gold? + +_Jack_ O, it's redder, and then, it is a native product. You'd be mad if +I said antique gold. + +_Maude_ But do you like antique gold better? + +_Jack_ That isn't the point. Who gave you those lilies? + +_Maude_ Aren't they dear? + +_Jack_ (cruelly). Don't know,--didn't buy 'em. Whose tribute are they? + +_Maude_ "Tribute" sounds like a funeral. + +_Jack_ (with awful meaning). There may be a funeral. Whose are they? + +_Maude_ (demurely). Mine. + +_Jack_ (with infinite patience). You know what I mean, (with terrible +calmness). Who gave you those? + +_Maude_ (preparing to cry). You're awfully cross, I think. + +(Mr. Bulbus enters in rear hunting something. Maude sees him.) + +_Jack_ (unmoved). Who gave you those? + +_Maude_ (graciously, sweetly). Mr. Bulbus, the lilies are lovely. + +_Mr. B._ (surprised into dropping a hammer). Yes'sum, I'm glad you--you +like 'em. (retreats in confusion.) + +_Jack_ Oh! (slowly). That's awfully nice of you. + +(Enter Mrs. De Smythe and Miss Hoppenhoer, bonnets and gloves on.) + +_Mrs. De S._ Where is your father? It's time to go. + +_Jack_ Past time. Grindem said to be there at 9:30. + +_Mrs. De S._ What shall we do? I knew he would be late! I hope I shall +not have an attack! + +_Miss H._ (grimly). No, I hope not--in that dress! + +_Mrs. De S._ As if one's dress made any difference with an attack! O, +there he is! Well, Papa, you--good morning, Madam. + +(Mr. De Smythe and Madam Sateene come in together.) + +_Mr. De S._ My, how fine we look! + +_Maude_ Madam Sateene, this shoulder--wrinkles. + +_Madam_ Let me see. (Madam and Maude consult apart.) + +_Mrs. De S._ We ought to go. + +_Mr. De S._ Miss Rantum hasn't come. + +_Jack_ (looking up from his own Ms.) O, I forgot! Miss Baked Beans will +meet us there. She couldn't come here. + +_Maude_ She promised she would! + +_Mr. De S._ All ready. How many of these do we take? (indicating +flowers). Need a dray? + +_Maude_ Only Jack's--and I carry them. Jack, you carry my essay and +fan. (puts on hat). Is it straight? Where are my roses? + +(Miss Hoppenhoer gives Mr. De Smythe two shawls and he goes.) + +_Madam_ (anxiously). Wait one moment. (adjusts Maude's train). Now. + +_Miss H._ Have you any lemon drops? + +_Maude_ Of course not,--nobody carries lemon drops! Where is my +handkerchief! + +_Jack_ (sheepishly, taking it out of his vest). Here it is. + +_Mr. De S._ (from door). Come on, you people. + +_Mrs. De S._ O dear, dear, I shall never stand it. + +_Miss H._ (collecting salts and fans). We're coming. + +_Mrs. De S._ O dear,--kiss me, Maudie. (sits down exhausted). It's just +like a wedding! I can't stand it! Some day you'll be getting married! + +(Mr. Bulbus enters in the rear and just stands.) + +_Jack_ (cheerfully). I hope so. + +_Maude_ (arranging train to carry it gracefully). Poor Mamma! + +_Mr. De S._ (from outside). Come on! Matilda, bring Mamma! + +_Mrs. De S._ O, O, O! + +_Maude_ Brace up, Mamma, you must. + +_Mrs. De S._ (to her handkerchief). And only yesterday she was a baby! + +_Miss H._ (snappishly.) And only day before yesterday you were! + +_Mrs. De S._ (from outside). Come on--we must go. + +_Chorus_ We're coming! (All start, collecting fans, handkerchiefs, and +gathering up trains, adjusting bonnets anew, etc.) + +_Maude_ (as they rush for the door). O, look out for my flowers! +Jack, got my piece? I know I shall forget! What if we're late? +Good-bye, Mr. Bulbus! (all go). + +(Curtain drops on Mr. Bulbus, gazing after Maude in a sort of trance.) + + + + +EPILOGUE. + + +(A Wednesday morning in May, 1905. Mr. and Mrs. Jack Hamilton at +breakfast. He reading a paper, totally absorbed. She opening her +letters; there are two by her plate.) + +_Maude_ (reading letter and talking to herself). Well, Well! (reading). +I am not angry--not in the least. You dear old girl! (drops letter and +meditates). You dear old girl! (resumes reading). I know better,--you +wouldn't! (reads about a page without comment, then) W-h-y! Why! O +goodness gracious! Jack! + +(Jack looks over top of paper absently, then resumes reading.) + +_Maude_ (explosively). Jack, what do you think? Only fancy--Valeria +is--Jack, listen! Put down your horrid paper! Valeria is married. + +(He looks at her vacantly.) + +_Jack_ Well? + +_Maude_ Well? Listen: Valeria is married. + +_Jack_ (waking to the situation). Is that so! Valeria--well, well. I'm +not astonished. + +_Maude_ (pensively). Why not? + +_Jack_ (at a venture). O, because--she is so--so handsome. + +_Maude_ (scornfully). She isn't handsome! Where are your eyes? She's +clever--clever, that's what Valeria is. But not handsome,--certainly +not. She squints. + +_Jack_ (staring). I thought you were so fond of her. + +_Maude_ (with dignity). I am, I am awfully fond of her--I've always +been. But (cuttingly) affection doesn't blind me. I can love her and +see her faults. Nobody ever called Valeria handsome. + +_Jack_ (hunting his place on the page). Maybe it was stunning. + +_Maude_ (with intense emphasis). Stunning! + +_Jack_ (turning the page with a prodigious rattling). Hal used to rave +over her. + +_Maude_ O! Hal, he--don't rattle your paper so, you make me nervous! Hal +didn't care for her. + +_Jack_ (absently). No, I suppose not, I suppose not. Of course, nobody +could. + +(Silence. Both read.) + +_Maude_ (intent on letter and all to herself). I wonder what she wore! +She is too old for white. (reads aloud). "You'll be surprised, my +dear." Yes, I confess I am. (gazing at coffee urn thoughtfully). Yes, +I am. (resumes reading). Where was I? "I want to tell you first, +dear." Here it is. So she did wear white--now, I am astonished. (reads +on). For pity sakes! Jack + +_Jack_ (starts violently, crushing paper). A man might as well live on +Vesuvius. + +_Maude_ (in great excitement). But, Jack, guess who married her. + +_Jack_ (with calm certainty). The man in the Moon. He's too jolly to +mind squints. + +_Maude_ Just guess. You never can. + +_Jack_ (impatiently, much wrought upon.) Then tell me. + +_Maude_ (in an explosive). Hal! + +_Jack_ (inanely). Hal! + +_Maude_ (calmly, the mine sprung). Hal Taylor. + +_Jack_ Hal Taylor. Well, I am--bobbed! + +_Maude_ I'm not surprised. + +_Jack_ You said Hal didn't care for her. + +_Maude_ (very slowly). He doesn't, Jack. Hal was--roped in. + +_Jack_ (stares, then gives vent to a long whistle of astonishment). +Well, you women! + +_Maude_ Don't talk to me. I am disgusted! + +_Jack_ (ruefully). Well! (He stares, folds napkin, unfolds it and takes +up his newspaper.) + +_Maude_ Don't sit there, just saying "Well" all the time! + +_Jack_ (slowly). Say, what is it to you? + +_Maude_ (sobs a little). She h-has deceived me--basely deceived me. But +I don't care. I shall send her a cut-glass berry dish,--maybe a +Tiffany c-c-cut! (dries her eyes resolutely). Coffee, dear? + +_Jack_ (irritably; a trifle suspicious yet). Yes, don't I always take +coffee? + +_Maude_ (plaintively). Don't scold me. I cannot endure much more. To +think Valeria-- + +_Jack_ (with decision, carving the steak). Don't think, then. Drop it. +What's your other letter? + +_Maude_ (sadly). I don't care--I don't care for anything. (takes a +biscuit). The biscuits are burned. + +_Jack_ No, they are not. Never mind--give the letter to me. + +(Maude gazes pensively at nothing. Jack opens the letter with a fork, +and reads silently.) + +_Jack_ (to himself, muttering). Of course, it's money,--always money. +Only a dollar and fifty cents apiece,--a man ought not growl. Umph! +"The happy old days." Yes, I remember. + +_Maude_ (meekly). Remember what, Jack, dear? (He reads. Silence. She +folds and unfolds Valeria's letter.) + +_Jack_ (suddenly). By George! + +_Maude_ (buttering a biscuit, slowly). What is it? + +_Jack_ By George! + +_Maude_ What is it? A woman might as well live on--on Vesuvius! + +_Jack_ George Graham is in the New York legislature! + +_Maude_ Professor George De Witt Graham! + +_Jack_ (reading while he speaks). The same, my dear. We're to banquet +him; it seems he's made a big speech. + +_Maude_ He was very handsome, and nice to us girls. He pulled us all +through chemistry. + +_Jack_ (absently). Yes, he was a good wire puller. And now he's Senator, +Senator in New York. That's great. + +_Maude_ How do you know? Is that from him? + +_Jack_ This is the Alumni Letter. + +_Maude_ Alumni? + +_Jack_ (slowly and elaborately). Yes, my dear, the Alumni +Letter,--Alumni. We graduated in 1902,--possibly you remember the +circumstances. You ought to. + +_Maude_ How long ago it seems,--how long, long ago! + +_Jack_ Thank you. It is. Three years. + +(Silence. He stirs coffee.) + +_Maude_ The lace for my dress gave out,--do you remember? And I wore +Paris muslin and Mamma was sick. + +_Jack_ It was a great day! You remember your Aunt? + +_Maude_ Poor Aunty! I can see her now--so 'fraid I would forget--sitting +on the edge of her chair! And those lemon drops,--I thought I should +faint when Bob brought 'em up! + +_Jack_ Yes, I remember how his shoes squeaked! And Bob would usher! + +_Maude_ Poor Aunty, I hope she is happier now out among the Hottentots. +Aren't they Hottentots? + +_Jack_ (with scholarly precision). Your Aunt, my dear, is in Korea. +Korea is an island just east of-- + +_Maude_ (vaguely). Well aren't the Hottentots there, too? I thought +they were all together over there somewhere,--all fat and dusty +together, with their queer hats like plates,--all praying and +embroidering lovely silks. + +_Jack_ As I was saying, Korea is east of--of Asia. + +_Maude_ (taking another biscuit). Asia was always hard for me. The +rivers had such dreadful names! "1902! 1902! We are the people, who +are you?" What fun we had! Let's go back! + +_Jack_ Haven't time. You write 'em greetings and so on, and enclose +three dollars. I wonder where old Grindem is? + +_Maude_ Old Grindem! You remember his side whiskers? I couldn't bear +that man! He was horrid on Commencement day--wouldn't wait one second! +Not one second! And Valeria, (she sighs heavily). Poor Valeria! + +_Jack_ (cheerfully). You looked mighty pretty that day. You didn't need +any lace. + +(She sighs gently and shakes her head.) + +_Jack_ (with desperate cheerfulness). And your hair was like gold,--and +those lilies-of-the-valley! I remember I went so far as to think of +Solomon. How is it? "Solomon in all his glory--all his glory +was--was--Solomon was"--how is it? + +_Maude_ "Was not arrayed like one of these." + +_Jack_ O yes--"like one of these," of course. "Solomon in all his glory +was not arrayed like one of these." You were a sort of female Solomon. +Not a Mrs. Solomon,--perish the thought! + +_Maude_ (reproachfully). Jack! + +_Jack_ (still cheerfully). Who gave you those lilies? Come on--tell me +now. This is a sort of anniversary when "all things shall be made +clear." Old Bulbus? + +(She braces herself with visible effort.) + +_Jack_ It was awfully hard on me, your just carrying my roses and +putting old Bulbus' lilies in your Solomon hair. + +_Maude_ They weren't B-B-Bulbuses. + +_Jack_ Honest? + +_Maude_ H-honest. + +_Jack_ (gravely). Whose were they? + +(Silence. Maude twists her napkin.) + +_Jack_ (more gravely). Whose were they, Mrs. Hamilton? + +_Maude_ You won't be mad? + +_Jack_ Do I get "mad"? I am not a two-year-old! + +_Maude_ Nor cross? + +_Jack_ Whose lilies were those, I ask! + +_Maude_ (sitting very erect). I am going to tell you! + +_Jack_ (a trifle viciously). See that you do. + +_Maude_ Hal sent those lilies. + +_Jack_ (incredulous). Hal Taylor? + +_Maude_ (with a dead period). Hal Taylor. + +(He gazes at her sternly; she hides her face behind the coffee urn.) + +_Jack_ Therefore, Valeria squints! + +_Maude_ O don't, Jack! + +_Jack_ (severely). The vanity of woman! + +_Maude_ (rising quickly and coming round to his chair). But I have your +roses, Jack, in the box with my dress! And I shall send Valeria a +cut-glass berry-bowl--maybe a Tiffany cut! + +(He pulls her down to him as curtain falls.) + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Sweet Girl Graduates, by Rea Woodman + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATES *** + +***** This file should be named 31506.txt or 31506.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/3/1/5/0/31506/ + +Produced by Roger Frank and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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