The Project Gutenberg eBook, Three Hats, by Alfred Debrun, Translated by Arthur Shirley 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: Three Hats A Farcical Comedy in Three Acts Author: Alfred Debrun Release Date: July 31, 2008 [eBook #26157] Language: English Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 ***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THREE HATS*** E-text prepared by Jason Isbell, Daniel Emerson Griffith, and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net) Transcriber’s Note Typographical errors and questionable readings have been noted in the text. THREE HATS A FARCICAL COMEDY IN THREE ACTS adapted by ARTHUR SHIRLEY from LES TROIS CHAPEAUX By Hennequin 1 FITZGERALD PUBLISHING CORPORATION successor to Dick & Fitzgerald 18 Vesey St. New York CHARACTERS. Sam Selwyn, with a night adventure. Fred Bellamy, Selwyn’s unwilling slave. Capt. Katskill, of the Kilkenny Irregulars. Bosco Blithers, Professor of Penmanship. Dibbs, a boy in buttons. Mrs. Selwyn, Sam’s Wife. Grace, Sam’s Daughter. Lottie Blithers, secretly married to Fred. Tilly, a parlor maid. COSTUMES. Selwyn.—At first as described in the “Scene,” afterwards in ordinary dress. Bellamy.—Walking costume. Katskill.—Exaggerated military style. Blithers.—Eccentric old gentleman’s costume. Mrs. Selwyn and Grace.—in ordinary home dress. Lottie.—Showily dressed in walking costume. Tilly and Dibbs.—In servants’ dress. PROPERTIES. Feather-duster; felt hat; three tall hats of different sizes; sword; umbrella. ACT I. Scene.—Drawing-room; door, l., at back looking into hall; chimney piece r. centre; doors on r. side in second and third entrances; door on left second entrance; window left; small sofa and armchair towards front; escritoire front, l. Music to take up curtain, “We Won’t Go Home Till Morning,” played, piano. As curtain rises stage is unoccupied and in semi-darkness, Selwyn opens door at back, l., and quietly creeps across, the collar of his overcoat is up, and his hat is dripping with rain. He goes r. on tiptoe and off third entrance, then returns to fix a paper on door and exit same way. Fred Bellamy then enters by door at back, l., and executes similar business, holding his muddy boots in his hand, exit, l., second entrance. Enter Dibbs door right second entrance, yawning and stretching himself, he carries feather brush in his hand. DIBBS. Ooh! What a shame to have to turn out just when you begin to appreciate your pillow. (Reading paper on door, r.) “Call me at tea-time.” (Crossing to l. and reading paper on other door.) “Don’t call me until to-morrow.” (Looking at clock on chimney piece.) Hullo! Only seven o’clock! I’m up too soon! I have cheated myself out of a clear hour in bed. Shall I go back again? No! The governor’s left out his cigars and I know the best brands he keeps three sorts—these cost about sixpence each and he smokes ’em himself—these are worth perhaps twopence and are for the use of his friends—and these he gives to his father-in-law, warranted real cabbage, five shillings a hundred! I’m not his father-in-law, and I’m not his friend, so I’ll have a dip in here. (Taking some from first box.) It’s strange my tastes and the governor’s should be so similar—we both like the best of everything! (Lighting cigar.) I’m not 2 3 in a bad billet here, nothing to do and no end of leisure to do it in, especially when the missus is away; she’s gone to her aunt’s at Tunbridge Wells, so master and his friend, Mr. Fred Bellamy, are left to do as they like. (Sits in easy chair, l.) TILLY (entering, r. 2 e.). Nobody’s up yet and so I can go to the window and kiss my hand to the night policeman before he goes off his beat. (Going to window.) There he is, leaning against the lamp post like a “Polly bellvurdear” in blue. It’s ’is whiskers as first won my heart! I always had a weakness for whiskers and I’m sure they are the finest in the force! Oh! what rapture to hear the clergyman say to those whiskers, “Wilt thou have this woman to be thy wedded wife,” and to hear those whiskers reply, “I will,” and then to walk arm in arm with them down the church——(Dibbs comes behind her and takes her by the waist; she screams.) Ah! DIBBS. Caught you, have I? Making signals to the bobby. I’ll signal him! (Puts finger to his nose at window.) TILLY. Oh! You impudent young rascal, how dare you insult a full-grown man; you without so much, as an ’air to your upper lip. DIBBS. I’d rather have no mustarchers than a couple of blacking brushes under my ears! He’s gone now! You’d better look on me with an eye of admiration. TILLY. You! You bare-faced brat! Smoking, too! Won’t you be ill, that’s all. DIBBS. Pooh! I’ve been a smoker ever since I was a boy! (Mr. Selwyn’s voice heard outside calling Dibbs.) Hullo! the old rooster’s up early! (Voice, “Dibbs!”) TILLY. I shall be off, he’s sure to be out of temper; masters and missuses are always grumpy when they first get up. (Dibbs kisses Tilly, who slaps him. Exit, l. u. e.) SEL. (heard off). Dibbs, are you coming? DIBBS. Yessir! (He endeavors to extinguish lighted cigar by blowing on it, then opens window and fans the air with feather brush to get rid of smoke.) Enter Selwyn, looking very seedy, r. 3 e., in dressing-gown and carrying a tall hat in his hand which he holds behind him. He has an “up-all-night” appearance. SEL. What the deuce are you doing? DIBBS. Dusting, sir! (He hides cigar in trousers’ pocket.) SEL. Do you generally dust the air? DIBBS. Dust everything, sir. (Aside.) Dash that cigar! It ain’t out! (He pulls it secretly from trousers’ pocket and again endeavors to extinguish it.) SEL. Is Mr. Bellamy about yet? DIBBS. Not yet, sir. SEL. Go and call him; say I want to speak to him at once. DIBBS. Yessir! (Returning.) As a rule he ain’t partial to being called before eleven, sir! SEL. Rubbish! I always encourage early rising! When I am up first myself! DIBBS (aside). The boss is in a bad temper, perhaps he’s had the nightmare! (Dibbs knocks at door, l. 2 e. Sleepy voice replies, “What the devil do you want?”) (Exit Dibbs, l. 2 e. entrance. SEL. Not a moment is to be lost! My wife will be home by the first train and if she catches sight of this infernal tile she’ll ask questions. That’s the worst of wives, they will be so inquisitive! Damocles had a sword hanging over his head, I have a hat! (Putting hat on secretaire.) Now to write to its owner. (Sitting at table.) “Sir, pardon my hastiness last evening”—— DIBBS (entering, l.). Mr. Bellamy’s coming, sir. SEL. (irritably). Coming! Why don’t he come! He’s always putting things off! 4 5 DIBBS. He’s not putting ’em off this time, sir, he’s putting ’em on! (Pantomimes getting into trousers.) SEL. (finishing letter). That will do! A frank but dignified apology. (Addressing envelope.) —“Tompkins, Esq.” Nobody called this morning inquiring for me, I suppose, Dibbs? DIBBS. No, sir! (Looking hard at Selwyn.) Lord, sir, how “squiffy” you do look this morning. SEL. (sternly). “Squiffy,” Dibbs? DIBBS. Yessir—off color! SEL. (more sternly). “Off color,” Dibbs? DIBBS. Yessir! Dotty about the eye-ball. For all the world as though you’d been out on the razzle-dazzle last night, sir. SEL. Dibbs, I request that you will not indulge in slang out of your proper sphere—the kitchen. (Aside.) He’s right! I am “squiffy”—in fact, I never was “squiffier.” Fetch my smoking cap! (Exit Dibbs, r.) It would be rash of me to assert that I was not “off color” and as to being prepared to take my oath that I did not feel “dotty about the eye-ball” I couldn’t do it! DIBBS (re-entering from r.). Your smoking cap, sir! (He grins at Selwyn.) SEL. What are you grinning at? DIBBS. Nothing, sir—except your bed ain’t a bit tumbled! SEL. What of that? I suffered from the toothache and had to walk about all night! DIBBS. Then the roof must want mending, for the rain comes into your room, sir—your clothes are all sopping wet! Oh, sir, if I didn’t know you, sir, I should say you had taken advantage of the missus’ absence to go out on the kick! SEL. Dibbs, would you dare!—— DIBBS. I say, sir if I did not know you! SEL. (aside). This boy knows too much for me! (Aloud; showing coin.) See nothing, say nothing! DIBBS. Oh, sir! Don’t force it on me! (Takes money and puts it in his pocket.) It shall be a secret between man and man. Mum’s the word to the missus! SEL. (aside). I wish I dared kick him! DIBBS. Here comes Mr. Bellamy, sir! Enter Fred, l. 2 e., without his coat. SEL. At last, my dear Fred, at last! I want you to do me a favor! FRED (aside). I suppose so! (Aloud.) I certainly do not consider it doing me a favor when I am awoke at unearthly hours. SEL. First let me explain—(noticing Dibbs is listening.) Thank you, Dibbs, I shall not want you any more! DIBBS (aside). As usual! Always turned out when the interest begins! Never mind, I’ve got a very good ear and the door’s got a very good key-hole; and by putting this (touching ear) and that (pointing to key-hole) together, I may hear of something to my advantage as the advertisements say. (Exit Dibbs, r. 2 e. SEL. Sit down, my dear boy. FRED (yawning). If he is going to spin me one of his long yarns I shall never keep awake! (Sits in arm chair.) SEL. Fred, we are brothers! (Taking chair over to l.) FRED. Not exactly—— 6 SEL. Yes, we are! You saved my life, and from that day became my brother. As a proof of my regard I am about to reveal to you what I would not confide to any other man or woman in the world. FRED. Not even to your wife? SEL. Not to my wife above all others. Fred, I have been off the line! FRED. A railway accident? SEL. No! The matrimonial line. Listen! I dined at Dobbinson’s last night. I ate a good deal and I drank more, in fact, I think I was just a leetle—a very leetle bit——(Gesture.) FRED. “On?” SEL. I was going to say “off” but it’s a detail. I walked home and I think I whistled. I generally whistle when I’m—— FRED. “Off?” SEL. I was going to say “on,” but it’s a detail. I remember that about the Marble Arch I saw a Vision of Loveliness approach me. The vision evidently desired me to do her a favor—— FRED. Had you ever saved her life then? SEL. No! The timid creature only wanted to be directed to Ludgate Hill; while endeavoring to explain a short cut we walked as far as Piccadilly together. I believe I offered to escort her. FRED. And she accepted? SEL. After much hesitation! We chatted and got quite good friends and at last passed by the “Geranium,” a highly respectable establishment, where, you know they admit ladies as well as gentlemen. FRED. A cock and hen club! SEL. Yes—but that’s a detail—suddenly the thought struck me to ask her if she had supped and if she would accept—(Gesture.) She replied, no! FRED. She refused? SEL. No. She said, “No, I have not supped!” FRED. She accepted then. SEL. After much hesitation—— FRED (digging him in the ribs). Ah! Sly dog! SEL. Not at all! She got quite confidential and told me her history—how her father had been a curate and got killed at the battle of—no, that was her brother—at any rate, the time passed most pleasantly, when all of a sudden she asked me my name; I stammered a little—then——(Gesture.) FRED. You didn’t give it? SEL. No, I gave yours! FRED (starting up indignantly). What! Give my name to a girl you picked up promiscuously——(Selwyn forces him back into his seat.) SEL. She was a perfect lady, dear boy. Besides, what was the use of you saving my life if I could not use your name? FRED (pettishly). Well? Go on. SEL. Then a faintness came over her—she wasn’t used to late hours! FRED. Of course not! They never are! SEL. (talking glibly). I rushed out to fetch a doctor, missed my footing on the top step, and fell headlong amongst a group of gentlemen on the pavement. “Drunken booby,” said one of them, giving me a push that sent me reeling. Off went my hat into the gutter, I went after it, and at last covered with indignation and mud, I flew at the fellow and knocked his hat off, too! 7 FRED. This is getting exciting! SEL. We tussled furiously, I think I must have hurt his fist, for my eye is precious painful (putting his hand to his face), and then somebody shouted “police,” and for a wonder an active and intelligent officer at once appeared on the scene. FRED. And locked you up? SEL. No! I hastily snatched the hat from the pavement and ran like an antelope, but imagine my horror when I discovered I had taken my antagonist’s hat instead of my own! FRED. That didn’t matter if it was as good, or better! SEL. It did matter very much, for since I have had two stolen I have always stuck my card on the inside and consequently I expect to be shortly called upon, and called out by the gentleman I insulted. It is not that I fear for my own sake, but if it gets to my wife’s ears I shall never hear the last of it. FRED. What are you going to do? SEL. Simply be beforehand with my antagonist and disarm his resentment by profuse apologies—his name is Tompkins I have found that out. FRED. Where does he live? SEL. There’s the rub, for it does not give his address inside his hat, only his name! Now comes my need of your help. Go and buy the London Directory, and with this hat in one hand and that apology in the other call on all the Tompkins’s in the town! FRED (protestingly). Oh! I say, you know——(Rises and goes, l.) SEL. (rises and goes, r.). What! Would you refuse? Oh, that I ever should have allowed a man to save my life who would afterward deny me such a simple favor as this! FRED. Look here, can’t you send a servant? SEL. What? Entrust my secret to a mercenary? Frederick Bellamy, did you save my life, or did you not? FRED (sulkily). I did! SEL. Did I ask you to do so? FRED. No, considering you were at the bottom of a pond at the time you couldn’t! SEL. You should have left me there if you only dived in to drag me on shore to witness your ingratitude. FRED. Oh, bother! I suppose I must; where’s the infernal stovepipe? SEL. (joyfully). I knew you would assist me and in return I’ll tell you something (whispering)—look out for a surprise! (Aside.) Poor fellow, I know he adores my daughter and thinks to let concealment like a thingamy in the bud feed on his damask cheek! (Effusively.) Bless you, my boy! FRED (aside). I wish he wouldn’t look so confoundedly affectionate. SEL. Now you understand? Here’s the letter and there’s the hat. (Putting them into his hands.) I’m off to dress while you go and buy a directory! FRED. Buy a directory! I don’t want to buy a directory! I hate directories! SEL. You should have thought of that before you saved my life. (Exit Selwyn, r. u. e. FRED. I have had three months of this sort of thing. I came to London for pleasure and I have suffered slavery ever since. I hadn’t been in town two days when looking over the Serpentine Bridge I beheld a man struggling in the water. I was weak enough to rescue him, and he immediately proved so oppressively grateful that I have never been able to escape from his clutches from that day to this. I would have gone back to Bristol long ago, but there’s my dear little Lottie Blithers to whom I am secretly married and whom I would not desert for untold gold. She keeps a glove shop in Bond street and I pass most of my time in purchasing her stock in trade. This sort of thing can’t go on much longer! 8 SEL. (re-entering, r. u. e.). What! Not gone yet? Suppose my wife were to return or that Tompkins should turn up. FRED (protesting). That’s all very well, but——? SEL. There’s no time for “butting” now! FRED. Damn it! You don’t want me to go without a coat, do you? (He places on the escritoire the hat that Selwyn had given him and goes off into his room, l. 2 e.) SEL. (speaking to him off). Do make haste, there’s a good fellow! (Aside.) I knew he wouldn’t be ungrateful. I knew that he wouldn’t forget that I had saved his life, no, I mean that he had saved mine! (Calling off, l.) Ain’t you ready? (Aside.) He shall be repaid for this! One of these days. I shall be able to grasp him by the hand and say—(calling off.) What the devil are you doing? Re-enter Fred, l. 2 e. FRED. Don’t shout! Here I am! SEL. At last! Enter Dibbs, quickly, r. 2 e. DIBBS. There’s a cab just driven up to the door, sir. I think it’s the missus! SEL. (to Fred). Off you go! You have the letter? (Going, l.) Not that way, you will meet her! Remember the directory, and above all don’t forget the name “Tompkins.” It’s engraven in letters of enormous size on my heart. Get the same done on yours! (Exit Fred, door at back. SEL. Now to hoodwink the wife! (Sitting down and taking newspaper). I must meet her eye without flinching. (Enter Mrs. Selwyn and Grace, at door in flat.) Ah, my dear, so glad to see you back! (He kisses wife and daughter.) MRS. S. Have you been dull, Sam dear! SEL. (most emphatically). Dull! Miserable! Regularly downright, positively wretched. MRS. S. I didn’t expect to find you up so soon as this. SEL. No! I shouldn’t have been only—only——(Searching for an excuse.) DIBBS (chiming in, r.). Only the master went to bed so early last night! SEL. (aside to Dibbs). Shut up! DIBBS (aside to Selwyn). Leave it to me, governor. I’ll pull you through! MRS. S. For all that, you look anything but well, you are quite pale and haggard—it’s a most extraordinary thing that whenever I go to aunt’s for a day or two I always find you looking bad when I return. SEL. (forcing smile). Yes! it’s the—the—— DIBBS (striking in). It’s the toothache! GRACE (sympathetically). Oh! papa dear, have you had the toothache? SEL. Yes, my dear. (Aside; vexed.) He’s given me the toothache now! I’ll give him something presently! (Aloud.) Ah, and how is your aunt, dear aunt Betty? Is the gout in her foot better? MRS. S. Gout! You mean her asthma! SEL. Gout—asthma! Asthma—gout, just the same, it’s only a detail! All through my indigestion; it affects my memory. Had it awful! MRS. S. Oh! I am so sorry, dear! You are looking queer! Can we do anything, for you? SEL. Yes, no, it’s the weather—so hot, you know. 9 10 MRS. S. Hot! I thought it chilly! SEL. Ah! It may have been chilly where you were, it’s been warm here. In fact, yesterday was the warmest day I remember! GRACE (aside to Mrs. Selwyn). Don’t forget to tell him all about Corney! MRS. S. (aside to Grace). Presently, child. GRACE. He may be here at any moment, you know! (Grace up c. at window.) MRS. S. (close behind Selwyn). Sam, do you know a Mr. Tompkins? SEL. (paralyzed by the suddenness of the question). Tom—Tom Tompkins! (Aside.) Has she found me out? MRS. S. (quietly). No, dear, not Tom Tompkins—Horace Tompkins. SEL. I never saw, heard of, or spoke to a person of that name in all my life! MRS. S. He’s the new society poet and author of Midnight Moans. I hear they’ve made quite a noise! SEL. No doubt, but I’m not partial to moans. MRS. S. The book was only lent me for an hour, and I am so interested that I want Frederick to go out and buy a copy. GRACE (aside, c., rather vexed). I think ma might speak to pa about Captain Katskill instead of her stupid poetry! SEL. Fred! Oh! He’ll soon get it for you! Stop, though, I forgot, he’s gone out! MRS. S. So early? SEL. Yes. (To Mrs. Selwyn, l.) MRS. S. Ah! here he is back again! Enter Fred quickly, at back, out of breath and with large Directory under his arm. He puts down Directory. SEL. (Aside). He surely cannot have tracked that Tompkins to his lair already? FRED. Good morning, Mrs. Selwyn, hope you have enjoyed your trip. (To Selwyn, aside). I say, old fellow, I forgot it after all! SEL. (aside to Fred). Forgot what? FRED (aside). The hat! SEL. Horror, where did you leave it? FRED (aside). Here! (Points to hat just as Mrs. Selwyn casually picks it up.) MRS. S. Who’s is this? (Looking inside.) Tompkins! SEL. (aside to Fred). Claim it! FRED (to Mrs. Selwyn). It’s mine! SEL. (excitedly). Yes, it’s Fred’s. (He snatches it and claps it on Fred’s head, being too large it “bonnets” him.) MRS. S. (in astonishment). Surely, it cannot be! DIBBS (coming between Mr. Selwyn and Mrs. Selwyn, aside). I must pull them through again, or they’ll make a mess of it! (Aloud.) No, sir, this is the hat you brought from the club last night! I know it well, ma’am, name of Tompkins inside—the master left his own behind and brought this one home instead! Mr. Bellamy was only taking of it back. (Winks at Mr. Selwyn; aside.) SEL. (relieved; aside). This boy’s a lovely liar! (Aloud.) Yes! 11 FRED. Yes! MRS. S. Why not have said so at first, dear? SEL. Oh, I was going to, but Dibbs put me out! (Aside to Dibbs.) You shall have a sovereign for that taradiddle! DIBBS (aside to Selwyn). It was the truth! SEL. So it was! I withdraw my generous offer. MRS. S. (rapturously gazing at hat). And to think that hat has probably covered the head of the author of “Midnight Moans.” FRED (aside to Selwyn). Do you know how many Tompkins’s there are in the directory? Two hundred and eighty-nine! SEL. (taken aback). Two hundred and eighty-nine? MRS. S. Where does the poet Tompkins live! SEL. (repeating mechanically). Two hundred and eighty-nine! MRS. S. Two hundred and eighty-nine—in what street? SEL. Street—what street? MRS. S. Why the street where Mr. Tompkins lives! FRED. Well, I don’t know exactly. MRS. S. You don’t know! Then how could you be going to take it back? FRED (aside to Selwyn). What shall I say? DIBBS (aside). They want me again! (Aloud.) Oh! ma’am, Mr. Bellamy was going to take it to the club —Mr. Tompkins’s address is sure to be known there! (Exit, r. u. e. MRS. S. I see! If at the same time, Mr. Bellamy, you could inquire if it was the talented Tompkins who wrote the “Frozen Tear,” I should be obliged. SEL. (impatiently). Yes! yes, but we must not keep Frederick! Remember the gentleman is hatless all this while. Do be off, Bellamy, my boy! FRED (aside). I suppose I must, but if ever I save anybody’s life again, may I be—— SEL. Don’t dawdle, dear boy—don’t dawdle! (Exit Fred, hurried off by Selwyn, door in flat. GRACE. Now, ma, I hope you will speak—— MRS. S. Yes, my child—yes! SEL. At last he has gone, the ill-omened hat has left my house I hope never to return! FRED (rushing in again). Forgotten the directory! SEL. Oh! MRS. S. What directory? SEL. Here it is! (Throwing it at Fred, who catches it.) MRS. S. What does Fred want that for? SEL. Amusement, mere amusement, to pass the time in the cab—you read, my dear, when you travel! MRS. S. But I read poetry! 12 SEL. What does it signify—poetry or directory, a mere matter of detail—tastes differ—he likes directory! (Aside to Fred.) Get out or I shall have a fit! FRED. But you know I have not had my breakfast yet! SEL. Breakfast! And he can think of feeding at a moment like this! Oh! buy a biscuit as you go along, or you can eat the directory if you like when you have found the owner of the hat! This delay is maddening. (Selwyn hustles Fred off again.) MRS. S. There is something the matter with Samuel, his manner’s so strange this morning! SEL. Once more relieved! MRS. S. Samuel! SEL. Bella! MRS. S. I want to speak to you about Gracie. She’s nearly nineteen, and we ought to be thinking about seeing her settled. SEL. There’s no hurry—she’s too young! MRS. S. She’s older than I was when we were married; I was only seventeen. SEL. It’s a most extraordinary fact that every woman with a tall daughter was married at seventeen, or says she was! MRS. S. Sam, in my case you know it’s true; besides, there are good reasons why we should talk about Gracie. SEL. (aside). Fred has been dropping hints on the subject, evidently. MRS. S. Speaking in her name I think I may tell you she has seen some one she can care about. SEL. (assuming authority). Um! What! without consulting me? GRACE (aside to Mrs. Selwyn). Oh, ma! suppose he says “no!” MRS. S. Hush! SEL. And who might the gentleman be? (Aside.) It is as well to pretend to be blind! (Aloud.) Who is he? What is he? Enter Dibbs, r. 2 e. DIBBS. Your barber, sir! SEL. My barber! DIBBS. Yes, sir, waiting in your dressing-room—and please, ma’am, there’s your dressmaker waiting in your’s! SEL. I mustn’t keep him waiting! If he got tired he’d lose his temper and I should probably lose a bit of my chin. (Exit, r. u. e. GRACE. Interrupted again! It is vexing! MRS. S. I can’t keep Mrs. Frillet, or she’d never let me know the latest fashions before anyone else! Dibbs, go to the Circulating Library and ask for the “Frozen Tear.” DIBBS. Yes, ma’am! Shall I wait while it’s put in ice, ma’am. MRS. S. Stupid boy! The “Frozen Tear” is by Horace Tompkins, it’s his latest and most fiery production. Go! (Exit Mrs. Selwyn, l. u. e. DIBBS. First she says it’s frozen, then it’s fiery! She may call it poetry, I call it bosh! (Grace sits, l.) 13 SEL. (putting head in at door, r., and beckoning Dibbs). Remember, Dibbs, I am at home to no one! DIBBS (low that Grace may not hear). Right, sir! Now to fetch the “red hot icicle” or whatever it is! (Exit, door at back. GRACE. Ten o’clock and pa not yet told that I am engaged! It’s too bad, Corney will be here in half an hour! TILLY (entering, l. u. e.). A gentleman, miss, says he wants to see Mr Selwyn. GRACE. It must be Captain Katskill! Ask him to come in! (Exit Tilly, l. u. e.) How my heart beats! (Re- enter Tilly with Blithers.) It’s not Corney! (Blithers is a doddering old gentleman of bland manners, reddish sandy hair, very short and standing up all over his head; also big whiskers; in his hand he carries a fashionable hat, evidently not his own. He speaks throughout in the blandest tones; he wears enormous boots built expressly to suit a sufferer from bunions.) BLITH. Oh! I beg pardon, miss, but I believe Mr.—(looking inside hat)—Selwyn lives here? GRACE. My father, sir. If you will take a seat I will call him. (Blithers bows grotesquely and sits, l. Exit Grace, r. u. e.) BLITH. A nice little girl! (A card falls from his pocket as he pulls out handkerchief.) Bother it! I have forgotten my wife’s instructions again! “Always give your card to the servant when you make a call,” says Susan, “it’s etiquette and it’s likely to bring business.” She always sees I have plenty of cards in my pocket, but I mostly forget to give them. (Looking at card.) Bosco Blithers, professor of penmanship and author of “Pot-hooks and Hangers.” I had better drop a few about. (He places cards on table, mantelpiece, etc., etc., then comes down and sits on edge of chair.) This Mr. Selwyn must be pretty well off to judge by his place here and his hat. He left it at Mr. Dobbinson’s while I was giving the juvenile Dobbinson’s their writing lesson, and so I was forced to put on his or return bareheaded. (Puts on hat which is too small for him, and looks in glass, c.) Enter Dibbs quickly. DIBBS. Couldn’t get missus’s “Iced Weep” at any price. I daresay they won’t keep in this hot weather. Who’s the venerable party? BLITH. (noting Dibbs and taking off hat). Oh, I beg pardon! DIBBS. Waiting for the governor, mister? BLITH. Yes, Mr. (looks in hat)—Mr. Selwyn! DIBBS (aside). Whew! Suppose this should be that Tompkins, the owner of the hat! The parlor-maid opened the door to you, eh, sir? BLITH. Yes, I presume so. She said I should find Mr. (looking in hat)—Selwyn in this room. DIBBS. That’s where she’s wrong! The governor has gone out! BLITH. I’m sorry! DIBBS. He may not be back for some time; if you were to drop in again, in a week or two perhaps? BLITH. Pardon me, young man, but Mr. Selwyn’s daughter just told me her father was at home! DIBBS (aside). The devil she did? That’s a doubler-up for master! (He strikes forehead and paces up and down.) BLITH. (watching Dibbs). A somewhat eccentric domestic! DIBBS (aside). I’ve got it! Hurrah! I’ll frighten the old bird! (Rings bell. Enter Tilly, l. u. e.) Where are master’s pistols, and did they send the new swords that were ordered yesterday? (Aside.) Say, yes. TILLY (puzzled). Ye-es! DIBBS. Then put them in the armory with the other deadly weapons? Have the forty score of ball cartridges come? (Aside.) Say, yes! TILLY. Yes-es. 14 DIBBS. Put them in the ammunition room handy, for Mr. Selwyn will want them all this week. TILLY. Poor boy! Love turns his brain, I ought not to have been so cruel to him! (Exit, l. u. e. BLITH. (puzzled). Mr. Selwyn seems to be fond of firearms! DIBBS. Fond of ’em! He always has something dangerous about him, reckons himself the best shot in these parts; he’s obliged to be for he never apologises; if anybody calls for satisfaction (pointing at Blithers, who is alarmed) bang! he drops ’em! BLITH. (aside). A nice amiable employer! (Aloud). I don’t see what all this has to do with me! DIBBS (aside). He’s a determined old dog! Enter Selwyn, r. u. e. SEL. (up stage). Dibbs! (Seeing Blithers.) A visitor? DIBBS (aside to Selwyn). It’s the hat man! SEL. (nervously). I told you not to admit anyone! DIBBS (aside to Selwyn). It was Tilly did it! Be careful, sir, he’s not to be trifled with! Beware, sir, beware! (Exit Dibbs, l. u. e. SEL. (aside). I would give a wagon load of gold watches to be somebody else this minute! BLITH. (ceremoniously). I have the honor to address Mr. Selwyn? SEL. Yes—es! (Aside.) I don’t like his eye! BLITH. I have merely called for a little explanation—— SEL. (aside and looking off). If my wife comes now I’m done for! BLITH. (aside). He seems to take no notice! (Louder.) Sir, I have called for the purpose—— SEL. Hush! Not so loud! BLITH. I beg pardon. (Aside.) Somebody ill, I suppose. (Aloud.) There has been a little misunderstanding about a hat—— SEL. (looking off). My wife! It’s all over! (He collapses.) Enter Mrs. Selwyn, l. u. e. MRS. S. Oh! I beg pardon! I thought you were alone. SEL. (confused). So I am—no, I mean—I wish I were! MRS. S. Do I disturb you? BLITH. Not at all, ma’am, its only about—— SEL. (anxiously interrupting). Somebody is calling you, dear! MRS. S. I don’t think so! (To Blithers.) What were you saying, sir? BLITH. It’s merely a mistake about a hat. SEL. (aside). Would it were down his throat! BLITH. I want my own in exchange! MRS. S. Of course, my husband explained all about it, in fact, he was going to send it back! SEL. (anxious to get rid of him). Oh, yes! You may rely on having it sent back, so if you will——(points to door, Blithers is about to go.) 15 MRS. S. No! The gentleman had better wait now. Pray sit down, sir, Mr. Bellamy will return soon with your hat. BLITH. Oh, thank you, ma’am! (Crosses r., to table.) MRS. S. He does not look like a poet, but who can judge by outward appearances? BLITH. (aside). Why does she examine me so minutely? This is a funny family! MRS. S. I presume you belong to the same club as my husband, since you exchanged hats. BLITH. Oh, no! I don’t belong—— SEL. (aside to Blithers). Don’t deny it unless you would ruin me. BLITH. (aside). I see! He doesn’t want it known that he dined out at the Dobbinson’s last night! MRS. S. (sentimentally to Blithers). I wish ladies were allowed to frequent clubs. I would give the world to mix amongst authors, painters and poets. (Pointedly.) Oh, how I have longed to know a real live poet! BLITH. I dare say, ma’am! MRS. S. (aside). He seemed to start at the word! I will draw him out! (Aloud.) I have read your last book, and oh! it is delightful! BLITH. (aside). She means my “Treatise on Penmanship.” (Aloud.) I have had many testimonials from former pupils! MRS. S. (aside). A poet take pupils! (Aloud.) Do you really mean to say you can teach people to write as beautifully as you do? BLITH. (proudly). Much better! My hand is not so steady as it was twenty years ago! MRS. S. I am indeed glad to have met you, I once saw the top of Alfred Tennyson’s head from a balcony, and Swinburne’s boots outside his door at a Parisian hotel, but I never actually spoke to a great writer before! BLITH. Oh, ma’am, you make me blush! MRS. S. Do I? (Rapturously.) Blush on, oh! blush on, genius of the goosequill! BLITH. I never use them! Give me a good “Falcon” pen. MRS. S. Would it be too much to ask you to spare me one of your old pens—one with which you had dashed off some sweet sonnet! BLITH. (aside, uneasily). There’s lunacy in the family! MRS. S. I have known many Tompkins’s, but all were common creatures. BLITH. (aside). What does she mean? (Aloud.) No doubt, mum, so have I! MRS. S. Would you, I tremble to ask it, but, oh!—would you mind writing something in my poor little album? BLITH. (hesitating). Well, mum—— MRS. S. I know it’s asking too much—but just one line—one little line! BLITH. Well, while I was about it, I might as well dash off a page or two!—you know I have several styles. (Flourishing hand as if holding pen.) MRS. S. I know! I know! Liquid lava runs from your pen as fluently as icy sarcasm. Excuse me one moment. (Aside.) I will fetch my album and get him to compose an impromptu while he is in the mood. (Exit Mrs. Selwyn, r. 2 e. SEL. (gratefully). Thanks for your generous silence! Had my wife an inkling about the events of yesterday my future would be blasted. Where do you live, sir? 16 BLITH. Oh! In Bond street—same place where you have sent my hat. SEL. (anxiously). Time is short now, but to-morrow I will call and make every reparation in my power, if an apology will be accepted. BLITH. Apology! (Aside.) How very polite! (Aloud.) No! no apology! (Selwyn attempts to follow him.) No. I’ll not hear of it! (Very blandly.) Good morning! (Exit, door at back. SEL. (sinking into chair, r.). No apology! I see he’s bent on blood! How I hate these deliberate duelists that never show the passion that sways their innermost souls! (Starting up.) What shall I do? Enter Mrs. Selwyn with book, r. MRS. S. Here’s the album, Mr. Tom—(Looking round.) Oh! Sam, why did you let him go? He may never call again! SEL. I hope not! MRS. S. (piqued). If you don’t care for poetry I do! (Going to where Blithers sat.) This chair shall not be used by unappreciative persons—I will have the seat taken out and framed! Enter Tilly, at back. TILLY. Please, sir, there’s a young gentleman in the hall wants to speak to you; this is his card! (Exit Tilly. Enter Grace, r. 2 e. SEL. (taking card). “Captain Cornelius Katskill.” I am not at home, I never shall be at home again; what does he want? MRS. S. (aside to Selwyn). Oh, Sam, I forgot to tell you after all. It’s the young Irish officer we met at the Claremonts’ and who was so attentive to Grace, in fact, I fully expect he has called to ask permission to consider himself formally engaged to her. SEL. Grace engaged! What nonsense; she is engaged, isn’t she? GRACE (indignantly). No, papa! SEL. Yes, you are! Or you are going to be, which is just the same, to my friend Fred Bellamy. I must repay him for saving my life! GRACE. “Pay,” papa! You talk of me as though I were a cheque instead of a child! I don’t love Mr. Bellamy! SEL. Not love him! He saved your father’s life, and you dare to say you don’t love him; this is the gratitude of girls! (Crosses to l.) GRACE. I can’t—I can’t; for I love somebody else. SEL. Somebody else! You mustn’t, can’t, won’t, don’t, or shan’t love somebody else! GRACE. Yes, I do! MRS. S. Yes, she does, and you wouldn’t be brute enough to coerce her young affections, would you? SEL. (savagely). Yes, I would! Young affections! Young fiddlesticks! (Crosses, r.) MRS. S. (going l., consoling Grace). Never mind, my child, your father is without poetry! and consequently without feeling! Ugh! you brute. (Exeunt Grace and Mrs. Selwyn, l. u. e. SEL. I will never sacrifice my Frederick! Never! Never! (Calling.) Dibbs! Enter Dibbs, l. u. e. DIBBS. Yessir! 17 SEL. Give the gentleman his card back, tell him to call again next year, say that we have got the sweeps or the measles in the house, at any rate get him to go! Where’s my felt hat? DIBBS. Billycock, sir? Yessir! (Exit Dibbs, r. u. e. SEL. (aside). Let me see, I must call on this bloodthirsty poet to begin with—Dibbs! Where’s that felt hat? Enter Dibbs with felt hat and umbrella. DIBBS. Here you are, sir! and here’s a letter, sir, just brought by a commissionaire—marked important, he says it’s from a young lady. SEL. Give it to me! (Reading envelope.) “Fred Bellamy, Esq.” perhaps its from the girl to whom I gave his name last night! Shall I open it? Yes! He saved my life, and from that moment he gave me the right to——(Reading.) Great Scott! “Bond street. Darling, Come to me at once! I have told father all about it; he is not so angry as I expected! Remember what you said last night! Come—straight to him as you promised and explain all.—Your loving Lottie. P. S.—If you don’t come, I shall call on you, as of course there will be no occasion for secrecy now, so you won’t want me to keep away!” This is a nice state of things! I must go to her. Where does she live? (Looking at letter.) Bond street! It’s an elongated thoroughfare, but never mind, I must find her or her appearance here would cause me to contemplate suicide! (He puts down letter on table; springs up and down as if looking for something; he unconsciously puts on hat.) First, I must go to Bond street, and apologize to this “Lottie,” then I must call on the passionate poet and explain—no, I’m mixing them up. It’s the poet I have to apologize to and the girl I have got to keep quiet! Dibbs, where is my hat? (Looks all over room.) DIBBS. I gave it to you, sir—why, you have got it on! SEL. So I have! (While they have been looking for hat, Mrs. Selwyn has come in l. u. e. and carelessly taken up open letter Selwyn put down; as she reads her expression changes from indifference to anger. Selwyn turns and sees her, then stands aghast. Music piano until end of act; then forte.) MRS. S. (severely). Whose is this? (Holding up letter, c.) SEL. Mine! I mean—yours! (Dibbs laughs; Selwyn pelts him.) MRS. S. (sobbing). You men are all alike, I’ll have a divorce! SEL. (at his wits end). Allow me to explain! DIBBS (aside). Leave it to me! (Crosses to c. aloud.) Please, mum, it’s mine! MRS. S. (drying her tears). I believe neither of you! SEL. (indignantly). Dibbs, how dare you tell your mistress such a villainous falsehood! You will end your days in an editor’s office if you go on like this. My dear, I will tell you the truth—it’s not mine, but Fred’s! MRS. S. Prove it! SEL. Look at the envelope! (Picking up envelope from floor, where he has previously thrown it. ) Same hand, see! (Aside.) Poor Fred! I have had to throw you overboard to save the ship! MRS. S. (examining envelope and letter). Yes, it is the same writing. The reprobate! Now, I suppose you don’t want Grace to marry him! (Bitterly.) SEL. Yes, I do! MRS. S. (firmly). Mr. Bellamy leaves this house to-morrow! SEL. He shan’t! MRS. S. He shall! (Quarrel worked up between them until Mrs. Selwyn in great passion seizes an umbrella to strike at Selwyn; he avoids the blow, and Blithers entering c., quickly at moment, still with tall hat in hand, receives it full on top of his head. Blithers turns and flies in dismay at his 18 19