Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald (Illustrated) (472 page)

BOOK: Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald (Illustrated)
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(They search.)

 

HULDA: He bane not here.

 

MR. W.: Let’s search the whole downstairs.

 

(They all go out. The music starts flaying “He’s a Devil” and Will sticks his head out from under the table. S. S. S. sticks her head in the window.)

 

S. S. S.: Well, Mr. Satan, I’ll just take that ten thousand dollars.

 

(Curtain.)

 

 

ACT II

 

(Breakfast table laid as curtain rises. Doorbell rings. Hulda answers it. Enter Hulda followed by Miss Sfigot.)

 

MISS S.: So the family’s not up yet?

 

HULDA: NO ma’am, I thought they was going to stay up the whole night.

 

MISS S.: It doesn’t surprise me. What was the matter?

 

HULDA: Spirits.

 

MISS S.: Spirits?

 

HULDA: Yes, and lots of them.

 

MISS S.: Shocking! Shocking! And who were the er — inebriates?

 

HULDA: The which?

 

MISS S.: The victims.

 

HULDA: Well, there was Mr. Wetherby.

 

MISS S.: Was he very much ah —

 

HULDA: Terrible — he couldn’t sleep all night.

 

MISS S.: And who else?

 

HULDA: Well, there was a strange lady — she was very bad.

 

MISS S.: Oh, a strange lady? There are more skeletons in the family closet.

 

(Will sticks his head out of closet and quickly withdraws it.)

 

HULDA: Well you just take it from me — I was feeling very queer myself, ma’am.

 

MISS S.: You wicked girl!

 

HULDA:  I couldn’t help it.

 

MISS S.: They forced it on you, I suppose. What a den of perfidy!

 

HULDA: Yes’m, I’d just said goodbye to Ole — he’s my steady — on the back porch when I hears screamin’ and carryin’ on, and when I went in they all started looking for the spirits.

 

MISS S.: Where were they?

 

HULDA: Vanished.

 

MISS S.: I’ll wager you could account for some of them.

 

HULDA: It was two o’clock before they quieted down.

 

MISS S.: And while they were here with their spirits and carousals I was at home praying for my nephew.

 

HULDA: Your nevy?

 

MISS S.: Yes, he hasn’t come home yet. That’s why I came over — to see if Mr. Dick has heard from him. Poor boy! Something awful must have happened.

 

HULDA: Yes’m, he’s probably dead (
looks carelessly at table
) or else in a penitentiary.

 

MISS S.: No such thing.

 

HULDA: YOU never can tell — my Ole —

 

MISS S.: Bother your Ole!

 

HULDA: My Ole’s a fine fellow, I tell you.

 

(Enter Cecile.)

 

CEC.: Good morning, Miss Spigot.

 

MISS S.: I’m
sure
I wish you a
very
good morning.

 

CEC.: What’s wrong?

 

MISS S.: Nothing — nothing of
consequence.
Don’t bother,
Miss
Wetherby, you must be worn out.

 

CEC.: Oh, Hulda has told you of our little affair with the spirits?

 

(Laughs.)

 

MISS S.: She has, indeed, and pardon me if I say that I see no cause for laughing.

 

CEC.: Well, it
was
rather funny.

 

MISS S.: I came to see Mr. Dickie about something.

 

CEC.: He isn’t down yet.

 

MISS S.: I shall wait in the library.
(Exit.)

 

(Enter Mr. W.)

 

MR. W.: Hm — hm —

 

CEC.: Good morning, Father.

 

MR. W.: Where’s the paper?

 

CEC.: It hasn’t been brought in yet.

 

MR. W.: Tell that Swede to get it. Tell her to hurry. Got anything fit to eat for breakfast?

 

(Exit Hulda.)

 

MR. W.: Well, it’s lucky Cousin Josephus slept through all that turmoil.

 

CEC.: He hasn’t come down yet.

 

MR. W.: Because I’ve got to have ten thousand before tomorrow morning to keep my business above water.

 

(Hulda enters and leaves paper for Mr. W.)

 

MR. W.:
(Not seeing it.)
Where’s that paper?

 

HULDA: Right there.

 

MR. W.: Where?

 

CEC.: There.

 

MR. W.: Well, don’t stand here staring like an idiot — get me my breakfast.

 

CEC.: Excuse me Father.
(She goes silently to door of left hand wardrobe — tries it.)
How did he get out? It’s still locked. I may as well unlock it.
(She does so and then goes out. Hulda comes in and puts toast and coffee down by Mr. W. Exit.)

 

MR. W.: Isn’t she ever going to bring that breakfast?
(Gets up and goes into kitchen. Will comes out of closet, gets toast and cofee and goes back. Enter Hulda and Mr. W.)

 

HULDA: I just brought you some.

 

MR. W.: YOU didn’t bring me any. If you did where is it?

 

HULDA: I bane tank it’s the spirits!

 

MR. W.: Spirits be damned! You didn’t bring it in!

 

HULDA: Well I’ll get another cup.
(He sits down grumbling. She goes out, returns with another cup and exits.)

 

MR. W.: Where’s my toast? I don’t want coffee without toast.

 

(Goes out toward kitchen. Josephus comes out of closet, gets coffee and goes back again.)

 

MR. W.:
(Coming in.)
Well hurry up with it. Where’s my coffee?

 

(Searches in pockets.)
What took that coffee?
(Goes to door.)

 

Hulda, I want more coffee. Someone’s taken my coffee.
(Takes “p paper, grumbling.)

 

(Enter Dickie.)

 

MR. W.: It’s about time you were down stairs — Well, why don’t you answer? Don’t sit there like an idiot. What’s the matter?

 

DICK: By hay-fever’s cob.

 

MR. W.: Your what?

 

DICK: By hay-fever. I couldn’t sleep a wick last dight.

 

MR. W.: Who expected you to sleep a week in one night?

 

DICK: Oh, I dot expect ady sypathy. I cad breathe through by dose.

 

MR. W.: Well, breathe through your ears.

 

DICK: Ad that’s dot the worst.

 

MR. W.: What’s the matter now?

 

DICK: You dow that ted thousad dollars that Mr. Hendricks idtrusted be with last dight?

 

MR. W.: Yes.

 

DICK: Well, it’s god!

 

MR. W.: Gone?

 

DICK: Vadished. I wed up idto by roob ad looked in the drawer where I’d left it, ad it was gone.

 

MR. W.: What a mess! That fellow last night must have taken it.

 

This is the limit! Have you telephoned the police?

 

DICK: Yes.

 

MR. W.: Well, the only thing for you to do is to marry Miss King.

 

I hear she’s an heiress. Otherwise there’s the deuce to pay.

 

DICK: I like the way you dispose of be. But I know she has her eyes od be, and she’s dot the first one.

 

MR. W.: Well, propose to her. That’s our only chance. You always were a bonehead. I’ve got to have that money by twelve o’clock to keep my business from going to smash.

 

DICK: IS it as bad as that?

 

MR. W.: It certainly is.

 

DICK: Well, id by dervous codition I’b dot respodsible. Argue it out with the policebad.

 

(Enter Clara King.)

 

CLARA: Good morning.

 

DICK:
(Rising.)
Good borning, Biss Kig.

 

MR. W.:
(Getting up.)
Women everywhere! Can’t women do without their breakfast once in a while?
(Exit.)

 

DICK: HOW are you Biss Kig?

 

CLARA: Oh very well. You must be tired after all that excitement way past your bedtime. Of course I’m used to it — I never go to bed until two in St. Joseph.

 

DICK: YOU dow, Biss Kig — bay I call you Biss Clara? — you bade a barked ibpressiod od me last dight.

 

h
CLARA: Did I?

 

DICK: Yes, id fact I cad remember — ah — that ady other girl ever bade that exact impressiod od be before.

 

(Enter Hulda.)

 

HULDA: Do you want coffee?

 

DICK: Yes.
(To Clara.)
Tell be, are you — ?

 

HULDA: Weak or strong?

 

DICK: She is deither.

 

CLARA: She’s speaking of coffee.

 

DICK: Strog.
(Exit Hulda.)
What was I sayig?

 

CLARA: HOW should I know?

 

DICK: I thought you bight have bed paying attedtion.

 

CLARA: Oh yes, it was something sentimental, I believe.

 

DICK: Listed, I remember, it’s this — ever since I saw you I’ve been head over heels in love. Last dight my pulse began climbing up to one hudred and ten. I said to byself — “You’re id love” and well — you know how it is. Between you ad by hay-fever I didn’t sleep a wick — oh, Clara, for you I would give —

 

HULDA:
(Entering.)
Your coffee, sir.

 

DICK: Damn my coffee!

 

CLARA: Decidedly. Damn it with your napkin; it’s running all over the table.

 

DICK: Here at your feet I cast my —

 

CLARA: Vanity.

 

DICK: Very well. If you persist in being facetious I can go you know.

 

Goodbye.

 

CLARA: Oh, goodbye. Are you going to play cops and robbers with your little companions?

 

DICK: Cops and robbers! Bah!
(Exit.)

 

(Clara crosses to right hand wardrobe and of ens door. Enter Josef hus.)

 

JO.: Well.

 

CLARA: Are you satisfied? You caused enough trouble last night.

 

JO.: Trouble — after you locked me in!

 

CLARA: Don’t think you can fool me with those stories. You’ve got to get out of that costume.

 

JO.: The costumer didn’t tell me it would run. I’m covered with deep crimson from head to foot.

 

CLARA: Serves you right. Now listen — I’ll get you some clothes, I’ll leave them on this chair. When I sneeze you come out and get them.

 

JO: Very well, but hurry up!
(He goes in closet. She exits.)

 

(Enter Cecile. The closet door opens, enter Will.)

 

WILL: Oh, Cecile!

 

CEC.: Oh Will! I’m sorry but I had to lock you in last night. How did you get out?

 

WILL: I didn’t know you locked me in.

 

CEC.: Why, yes.

 

WILL: I must have broken the lock. I had to come out — I was suffocating. I had a terrible time. I’d just gotten out of one muddle when some woman held me up and insisted on searching me for ten thousand dollars. At last I convinced her I didn’t have it and she went away — out the window — and I returned to the — ah — guest room.

 

CEC.: HOW odd. I wonder who it was? But I’m getting used to excitement. Nothing bothers me now.

 

WILL: Well, what shall I do?

 

CEC.: Wait — I’ll get you a coat. I’ll leave it on this chair. When I open the window you come out and get it.

 

WILL: Very well, when you open the window.

 

(Exit both.)

 

(Enter Hulda. She hums a Swedish song, then opens window.

 

Jo’s door begins to open.)

 

HULDA: Oh what a draft!
(She sneezes. Will’s door begins to open.

 

She goes out. Will and Josephus come slowly to center and then see each other.)

 

BOTH: Well, what the devil!

 

WILL: What are you doing here?

 

JO.: What are you doing here?

 

WILL: It’s a long story.

 

JO.: So’s mine.

 

WILL: Well, I know how you feel. Does your color run?

 

JO.: Like a race horse.
(Aside.)
I wonder where those clothes are?

 

WILL: Where can that coat be? Sh! there’s someone coming.

 

JO.: I’m not going back to that closet.

 

WILL: Let’s try the table.

 

(They get under table. Hulda shows in Second Story Salle. Enter Mr. Wetherby.)

 

MR. W.: Who the deuce left this hat and coat in my room? It isn’t mine.

 

S. S. S.: Pardon me, sir, but I ‘ave a line of books h’I’d like to get you h’interested h’in.

 

MR. W.: Books? I don’t want books.

 

S. S. S.: I have “Innocent As A Flower” by Margureta Du Chene and “Delia the Double-died” by Madame Caruse. I also have a small encyclopedia and sets of Richard ‘arding Davis and Rudyard Kipling. If ee take that ee get the Oswego Medical Review for six months or else you can have “Fireside Hours.” for three months —

 

MR. W.: Oh get out, get out! Haven’t I got trouble enough. Hulda show her the door. (
Exit Mr. W.)

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