Read Delphi Complete Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated) Online
Authors: SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE
SOLO. — PROCTOR.
There was once a man in a seaside town,
And his name it was — what was it?
I know it wasn’t Smith, and I’m sure it wasn’t Brown,
But it was — oh, Lor’, what was it?
I very much want to tell you all,
You’d love to know about it;
But just this point I can’t recall,
And as it’s immaterial,
We’d best go on without it.
A widow lived in the same hotel,
Her name it was — you know it!
He stole to her and whispered — well,
He whispered, well — Oh, blow it!
I very much want to tell you all,
You’d love to know about it;
But just this point I can’t recall,
And as it’s immaterial,
I’d best go on without it.
But when the lady heard this speech,
Down to the pier she flew then,
Threw up her arms, and with a screech,
She — she — Oh, dear! what did she do then?
I very much want to tell you all,
You’d love to know about it;
But just this point I don’t recall,
And as it’s most material,
I can’t go on without it.
Enter SIM and GREG.
SIM.
At last we’ve got him, sir,
PROCTOR (not heeding). Away!
SIM.
Him that dangled after her!
PROCTOR.
Hurray!
(addressing PRESS STUDENTS). To catch an undergraduate I came,
SIM and GREG (perplexed). Of this there’s question none,
He is an undergraduate,
In all respects but one.
That one to mention we forgot,
It’s odd to me and mate,
It’s this, that somehow he is not
An undergraduate!
JACK steps forward, CADDIE holding him.
ALL.
Why, evidently he is not
An undergraduate!
MILLY (from balcony).
Oh, sir, take care
Of one so fair
Let his complexion
Plead with you for him!
JACK.
An officer I,
Strolling by,
Smoking a Henry Clay,
These men I met,
They me beset
In a most unseemly way.
Of girls they spoke,
Which spoilt my smoke,
For the sex I do not care about.
I’ve not address’t
Them e’en in jest
Since ‘85 — or there about.
They dragged me here,
By brute force sheer,
But this doth chiefly jar.
Your page, I find,
We left behind
Smoking my big cigar.
And therefore I
Your school defy,
Oh, I do not stand in awe of you;
For spoilt have they
My Henry Clay,
And I mean to have the law of you.
Exit JACK.
Re-enter GIRLS.
PROCTOR.
No I am trepanned and done brown.
PRESS STUDENTS. We hear you, and we’ve got it down.
Enter MISS SIMS and JANE ANNIE.
MISS SIMS (to JANE ANNIE).
We owe all too you, it appears!
So what can I do?
GIRLS.
Box her ears!
JANE ANNIE.
To be good I try hard,
GIRLS.
Ain’t she meek?
JANE ANNIE.
And I ask no reward,
GIRLS.
Oh, the sneak!
JANE ANNIE.
Yet if I should take
Something nice,
They may learn to forsake
Ways of vice.
PRESS STUDENTS. Stop a moment—”Forsake!”
“Ways of vice!”
JANE ANNIE.
Now the good-conduct prize,
GIRLS.
Oh, how mean!
JANE ANNIE.
Seems good to my eyes,
GIRLS.
Which are green!
JANE ANNIE.
So if you agree
That I’m right,
Why not give it me
Well — to-night?
PRESS STUDENTS. Stop a moment—”Agree”
“To to-night.”
MISS SIMS.
Dear pupils, see, to my bosom I fold her,
The prize shall be hers ere she’s five minutes older.
Exeunt MISS SIMS, PROCTOR, BULLDOGS, and CADDIE.
JANE ANNIE. The girl who’s good, demure, correct,
Cannot preserve her self-respect,
And mine I would regain.
So having got the prize to-night,
To-morrow I, with all my might,
Will be an imp again!
Girls, I am naughty from this hour,
And six long months of wickedness,
By virtue of my magic power,
Into one day I will compress!
ALL.
Jane Annie’s naughty from this hour,
But oh! what is this magic power?
CADDIE sends PRESS STUDENTS away.
SONG. — JANE ANNIE.
When I was a little piccaninny,
Only about so high,
I’d a baby’s bib and a baby’s pinny
And a queer little gimlet eye.
They couldn’t tell why that tiny eye
Would make them writhe and twist,
They found it so, but how could they know
That the babe was a hypnotist?
ALL.
Now think of that! this tiny brat
Was a bit of a hypnotist!
JANE ANNIE.
And as I grew my power grew too,
For we were one, you see,
And what I willed the folk would do
At a wave or a glance from me.
I could “suggest” what pleased me best,
And still can, when I list,
And Madam Card will find it hard
To beat this hypnotist!
ALL.
Oh, think of it! This little chit
Is a mighty mesmerist!
DANCE.
Enter MISS SIMS, BULLDOGS, PRESS STUDENTS, and CADDIE in
procession. PAGE bearing prize. GIRLS become demure.
MISS SIMS.
To Jane Annie this prize I present,
And in it I’ve writ this inscription —
“Awarded a hundred per cent.
For goodness of every description.”
(Presents prize.)
MISS SIMS, BULLDOGS, and PAGE.
Hail, oh hail to the modest maiden!
Hail, oh hail to the downcast eyes!
Now with all our plaudits laden,
See, she takes the well-earned prize.
Hail, Jane Annie, hail!
GIRLS. Hail, oh hail to the scheming maiden,
Hail, oh hail to the roguish eye!
Now she stands with honours laden,
They will know her by-and-bye.
Hail, Jane Annie, hail!
ENSEMBLE.
MISS SIMS, BULLDOGS, etc.
Hail, oh hail to her we honour!
Hail, oh hail to the blushing cheek!
Place the laurel wreath upon her,
See her crowned, and good, and meek!
Hail, Jane Annie, hail!
GIRLS.
Hail, oh hail to her they honour!
Hail to her unblushing cheek!
Place the laurel wreath upon her,
See her trying to look meek.
Hail, Jane Annie, hail!
CURTAIN.
SCENE. — Golf green near the school. River at back. BAB, a
prisoner, is walking up and down in CADDIE’s charge.
SONG. — CADDIE.
A page-boy am I
That young ladies decry,
Yes, yes, dears, you do, for I hear yer;
But it’s little you know
The volcanoes that glow
Inside of this little exterior.
Oh, you wouldn’t deride,
Could you step inside
Of this here pocket edition,
And, striking a light,
Perceive that this mite
Is on fire with a grand ambition.
BAB.
But at present the buttons he’s wearing,
And he’s taking me out for an airing.
(Walks up and down.)
CADDIE.
My wife I shall choose
From the class called the Blues,
Whose theory is that they hates men,
Of birthplaces galore
I mean to have more
Than him wot’s the eminent statesman.
A peerage I’ll take
For my progeny’s sake,
To refuse it I think would be shabby,
And I ask poor and rich
To my funeral, which
Will be held in Westminster Abbey.
Oh, you wouldn’t deride, etc.
Cries of “Fore! Fore!”
BAB. The girls are playing golf. (She holds up flag.)
CADDIE. Girls! Poor summer flies!
BAB. Do let me play, Caddie.
CADDIE. It’s agin the Missus’ orders. I’m your jailer, I am,
and Miss Sims’s words were: “Give the wench a little
exercise, but never leave her for a moment, or she will
be eloping again; and if she does,” said she, “you just
pull the big fire bell.”
BAB. But why not let me elope, Caddie? See, I go on my knees
to you. (Kneels.)
CADDIE. Get up! Get up!
BAB
(rising). Cold, relentless! You have never loved!
CADDIE. Have I not? By gum!
BAB. You in love. With whom?
CADDIE (sadly). It’s all over for ever, no more.
BAB. She jilted you?
CADDIE. Well, it came to the same thing, I jilted her.
BAB. Why?
CADDIE. I wanted a bigger one.
BAB. And have you got a bigger one?
CADDIE. I have.
BAB. Whom?
CADDIE (pointing off stage). You see that agreeable
circumference coming this way?
BAB. Yes.
CADDIE. Well, that’s my new one.
BAB. Jane Annie!
BAB goes sadly up stage. A golf ball lands on green, CADDIE
pockets it. Enter JANE ANNIE with golf club. She looks for her
ball. CADDIE looks longingly at her and sighs aloud.
CADDIE. My charmer!
JANE A. Caddie, did you see my ball?
CADDIE. No, Miss, no balls have come this way.
JANE A. It is a strange thing that when you are acting as
caddie nearly all our balls get lost.
CADDIE. Yes, Miss.
JANE A. And what is stranger still, those same lost balls are
afterwards offered us for sale at your mother’s shop in
the village.
CADDIE. Ah, it be a puzzling world, Miss.
JANE A. (putting her hand in his pocket and producing ball).
Now it seems to me that this is my ball.
CADDIE. Extraordinary thing!
JANE A. How did it get there?
CADDIE. You must have played it into my pocket, Miss.
JANE A. Fibber! I feel sure that it fell dead just on the edge
of the hole — here. (Puts ball close to hall.)
CADDIE. No, Miss, now that you mention the circumstance, I
recollect that I picked it out of the bunker.
JANE A. Pooh! nonsense!
CADDIE. Is this fair, Miss?
JANE A. Of course it’s fair, so long as nobody sees me.
Besides, I’m told they often do it at Felixstowe.
Why, even Mr. Balf — (CADDIE signs silence to her,
pointing to private box as if fearful lest they should
be overheard. Exit CADDIE.)
BAB. Sneak!
JANE A. Are you a prisoner, Bab?
BAB. Yes, thanks to you. I shall tell everybody how good you
have been. (Sits down on rug.)
JANE A. How hateful of you to threaten to take away my
character.
BAB. Goody! Goody! Goody!
JANE A. (sitting down beside BAB). I’m not really good.
BAB. Yes, you are. You sha’n’t sit on my rug. (Pulls it
away.) Why, you promised last night to be dreadfully
naughty to-day, so as to make up for your goodness of
the past six months, and here you are as shamelessly
good as ever.
JANE A. You do me an injustice. The fun is about to begin.
Early this morning I hypnotized our dear mistress, and
made her write the most dreadful letters.
Just
fancy, two of them were invitations to Tom and Jack to
come and bring as many male friends with them as they
could get together. She has not the least idea of what
she has done, of course! Ha! ha!
BAB. But why have you done this?
JANE A. So that in the confusion Tom and Jack may carry off the
girl of their heart.
BAB. But I can only marry one of them.
JANE A. Yes, but I can marry the other.
BAB. You! But I haven’t selected mine yet. That is my
difficulty.
JANE A. No, but I have! That removes your difficulty.
BAB. You toad!
JANE A. The one I have chosen is Jack.
BAB. Jack! Does he know?
JANE A. No, I am keeping it a surprise for him.
BAB. I don’t believe a word you have said.
JANE A. You can have my aid if you will promise to take Tom and
leave Jack for me. You can’t elope without my aid.
BAB. I shall.
JANE A. You sha’n’t!
BAB. Goody! Goody! Goody!
Cries of “Fore! Fore!” are heard, and a ball lands on the green.
JANE A. The girls.
BAB. Goody! Goody! Goody!
GIRLS enter in golf costume. JANE ANNIE, ROSE, MEG, and MILLY are
playing a foursome; the others are looking on. CADDIE accompanies
them as caddie.
CHORUS OF GIRLS.
To golf is staid for bashful maid,
So our schoolmistress thinks,
That’s why, ‘tis said, Queen Mary played
On famed St. Andrew’s links.
BAB (holding up her club).
Niblick!
}
JANE ANNIE (holding up her club). Driver! }
MILLY (holding up her club).
Putter! }
MEG (holding up her club).
Brassy! }
BAB.
One up!
JANE ANNIE.
Two to play!
ALL.
We play the game as that Scotch lassie,
Mary, used to play.
This verse is sung with spirit; the second dejectedly.
GIRLS.
The game was gay in Mary’s day,
Her foursomes were not lonely,
Maybe ‘cause they had not to play
On greens for ladies only!
BAB (as before).
Niblicks! }
JANE ANNIE (as before).
Drivers!
}
MILLY (as before).
Putters!
}
MEG (as before).
Brassies! }