LIVELY
PLAYS
FOR
LIVE
PEOPLE
BY
THOMAS STEWART DENISON
AUTHOR OF
Thirty-six plays; also, “An Iron Crown,” “The Man Behind,”
“Outlines of World’s History,” etc.
CHICAGO:
T. S. DENISON, PUBLISHER,
163 RANDOLPH STREET.
LIVELY PLAYS.
CONTENTS.
Page
Topp’s Twins, comedy, four acts 5
Patsy O’Wang, farce 77
Rejected, farce 107
The New Woman, comedy, three acts 133
Only Cold Tea, temperance sketch 165
A First-Class Hotel, farce 179
Madame Princeton’s Temple of Beauty, farce 193
A Dude in a Cyclone, farce 207
It’s all in the Pay Streak, comedy, three acts 219
The Cobbler, a monologue 261
Copyright, 1895, by T. S. Denison.
ABOUT THE PLAY.
The first requisite in a play is _action_, after that should be found
as much novelty of incident and freshness of dialogue, combined with
originality in character study, as the author can contrive to get
together in these days when apparently nothing is wholly new. These plays
are intended primarily for _representation_.
These explanations are made because the purpose of a previous volume of
my plays, issued without preface, appeared to have been misunderstood in
a few instances.
Public approval, whether it be an infallible guide or not, in matters
pertaining to print, is at least encouraging, and this leads me to say
that of my earlier plays there have been sold in paper covers _three
hundred and twenty thousand copies_, besides an edition in cloth.
THE AUTHOR.
Chicago, July 11, 1895.
TOPP’S TWINS
A FARCE-COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS
BY T. S. DENISON
_Author of_
Odds with the Enemy, Initiating a Granger, Wanted, a Correspondent, A
Family Strike, Seth Greenback, Louva, the Pauper, Hans Von Smash,
Borrowing Trouble, Two Ghosts in White, The Pull-Back, Country Justice,
The Assessor, The Sparkling Cup, Our Country, Irish Linen
Peddler, The School Ma’am, Kansas Immigrants, An Only Daughter,
Too Much of a Good Thing, Under the Laurels, Hard Cider,
The Danger Signal, Wide Enough for Two, Pets of Society,
Is the Editor In? The New Woman, Patsy O’Wang, Rejected,
Only Cold Tea, Madam P’s Beauty Parlors, Topp’s
Twins, A First-Class Hotel, It’s all in the Pay-Streak,
The Cobbler, A Dude in a Cyclone, Friday Dialogues.
_Also the Novels,
The Man Behind, An Iron Crown, etc._
CHICAGO:
T. S. DENISON, PUBLISHER,
163 RANDOLPH STREET.
TOPP’S TWINS.
COPYRIGHT, 1895, BY T. S. DENISON.
CHARACTERS.
CADWALADER TOPP, of Topp & Topp, twin brothers, oyster dealers; old
bachelor, irascible, vain, great stickler for “honah;” wants to
adopt twins; family tradition; stout man.
TICK. (_Alias JIM BAGGS._) Traveling man of Topp & Topp; typical
drummer, rather cheeky, quick, appears braver than he is; ready
for any adventure or practical joke.
JOSIAH TWIGGS, old friend of Tick’s father; parent of Angie and Mrs.
Twiggs-Knott, who calls herself “Twiggs hyphen Knott.”
MRS. TWIGGS, a mother and grandmother of “Twiggsie and Dixie,” the
twins.
MRS. TWIGGS-KNOTT, mother of the twins, and a widow who knows how to
get what she wants.
ANGIE TWIGGS, a bright young lady.
BOB SPRATT, seedy adventurer; he tries to work off his twins on Topp;
in revenge precipitates the duel; villain of the play.
MRS. DUBBLEDAM, housekeeper from Holland; good-natured, slow,
loquacious.
GINGER POTTS, an African; body servant of Mr. Topp; a good deal of
the monkey; comic by nature and _good_ in theory, which theory is
sometimes not fully supported by facts.
DR. SHORT, the surgeon, an animated wooden man.
Personages not appearing on the stage, the _real twins_, “Twiggsie
and Dixie;” also Bob Spratt’s twins, the victims of circumstances,
and called for the occasion, Benjamin Harrison Spratt and Grover
Cleveland Spratt.
STAGE DIRECTIONS.
_R._ means right of the stage; _C._, center; _R. C._, right center; _L._,
left; _1 E._, first entrance; _U. E._, upper entrance, etc; _D. F._, door
in flat or back of the stage. The actor is supposed to be facing the
audience.
_Time of playing, two hours._
BILL OF THE PLAY.
ACT I. Topp’s family tradition demands twins.
ACT II. “She’s a little angel, I’ll see her father.”
ACT III. “Yes, Topp old boy, you are in love for the first time in
twenty years.” But the odious rival appears just at the wrong time and
precipitates disaster.
ACT IV. The duel. The finding of the Twins.
☞ Though this play has full stage directions, it may be presented in any
hall, or large parlor even. Two doors for exit and entrance is the main
requirement. Owing to the style of type the play is not so long as it
seems.
PROPERTIES.
Numerous dummy letters, newspaper in wrappers, writing materials, gunny
sack, pair of corncutters, surgeon’s kit, brace of pistols in case for
Spratt, also two other pistols, pocket tape-line, cards for Spratt and
Tick, note books, coins, crash bag of broken glass.
[Illustration: TOPP’S TWINS.]
_Note._ If no scenery is at hand suitable for Act IV, it may be played
simply on bare stage stripped of all furniture and accessories.
☞ For hints on play, see page 72.
TOPP’S TWINS.
ACT I.
SCENE. _Home of MR. TOPP. Handsome sitting room of a wealthy
man. Doors R. & L. in 1 E. (N. B.—Street door is always L., way
to interior of house always R.); also door in flat C. Table and
chairs R. C. Small secretary, with mirror over it by flat L. C._
GIN. (_Entering L. with mail._) I never see de like of de mail; dah’s a
bushel o’ letters an’ one paper. (_Puts letters on table; part slide off
on floor; he does not see them._) Dat paper is de _Sun_. Massa done read
de Baltimore _Sun_, mos’ ever since de creation I ’low. (_Reads on the
wrapper “Topp & Topp, No. 3 Druid Hill Place.”_) Didn’t I read dat easy.
Pshaw! I kin read heaps, ’ticlarly if dah’s a picter to sort o’ steer by.
My poor ole mommy couldn’t read nothin’ but de wrapper, an’ I ’spect she
guessed at dat. Crackey! edication is mighty powerful sometimes. My ole
mommy couldn’t read an’ she (_pauses_)—humph, she sold for a thousand
dollahs befoh de wah. What ’ud _you_ sell foh, Ginger Potts? You good fur
nothin’ nigger, you wouldn’t fetch a blame cent. But your vote, dat’s
spot cash. (_Bell rings._) Foh de Lord’s sake, w’at ails dat bell. It’s
done ringin’ all de time. (_Exit L._)
_ENTER MRS. DUBBLEDAM R._
MRS. D. I nefer saw tings like dot already. Seven men haf been at de side
door to sell leetle togs to Meester Topp. I get dem all away so gwick as
ever for Meester Topp he hates togs already fery much. He vas a mighty
gweer man, an’ he gets no better, aint it; he say to me sudden like
one day: “Mrs. Tuppletam, we must have some twins.” I tinks to myself,
Meester Topp, was you cracy? I felt myself yoost like a puzzle, and he
yoost keep silence; dot silence was embarrassed, so I said a little
sharp, “Vere you get some twins if you please, Mr. Topp?” Dot man was
awful curious, ven I haf temper he haf none, sometimes, and sometimes he
haf too much; dot time he vas very quiet, an’ his voice like a woman’s—a
woman, ven she is not mat—
_ENTER GINGER, L 1, with more letters._
GIN. What racket is massa into now, Mrs. Dubbledam?
MRS. D. Twins. He says, “My gran’fater was twins, an’ my fater oont uncle
was twins; my poor brudder an’ me was twins, an’ I’m goin’ to have some
twins to run my pisness and pack oysters.” I yoost thought I’d fall in
a heap. I guessed dot man was talkin’ out of his head alretty; I could
say not one wort, but he turned round an’ walked out. Dot was de piggest
puzzle about dem twins. So yesterday, at breakfast, he say sudden like,
“Tuppletam, I’m goin’ to advertise for dose twins.”
GIN. Land o’ honey, Mrs. Dubbledam, look at de letters. (_Puts them on
the table and some fall on the floor._)
MRS. D. Well, I nefer; where does de letters come from, Ginger? Apout tem
twins? What a lot o’ peoples bin havin’ twins! Twins must be plentier
dan persimmons.
GIN. De postman says dese letters belong here; dey wouldn’t take ’em at
Number 5.
MRS. D. I yoost get even on Number 5; I’ll send Number five de togs.
GIN. What dogs?
MRS. D. Dere’s been seven, nine men here mit togs dis mornin’.
GIN. De dickens! ole massa’ll take a fit.
MRS. D. All sorts o’ togs at dot side door. Big Newfounlant togs, rat
togs, sky pups, oont all dot. Dey make me real mat sayin’ so often dot we
want no togs. (_Bell rings._)
GIN. Blame dat bell.
MRS. D. Ginger, why aint you more gwick answerin’ dot bell?
GIN. (_Imitating her accent._) Nefer mint, I’m gwick enough already, aint
it? Say, I wonder—(_bell violently_)—if somebody isn’t playing a trick
on ole massa? (_Voice inside from door in flat._) “Potts, the bell.”
Geeminy; ole massa done heerd. Say, anybody fotch any kids yet?
MRS. D. Dere was no shildrens yet.
GIN. Dey’ll come later, dey don’t git up so airly as de dogs. (_Bell
violently, voice again._) “Where’s that infernal niggro.” (_Exit GIN
rapidly, L._)
MRS. D. Dat niggero gets so slow, efery day more. Dear me, I’ll nefer
get my work done to-day between te togs, te letters oont, Meester Topp’s
whims, oont twins, oont sooch like. (_Exit R._)
_RE-ENTER GINGER with TICK L._
GIN. Massa aint done brekfusted yet.
TICK. (_Seating himself by table, R. C._) I’ll wait.
GIN. Sometimes massa’s powerful slow comin’ down, hadn’t yeh bettah send
in youah cahd?
TICK. No, thanks; my business can be transacted with him only.
GIN. (_Aside._) Dat’s bout de twins suah. ’Scuse me, but did you fotch de
kids along?
TICK. What’s that?
GIN. De chillen. Whah’s de chillen?
TICK. Children? I’m no married man.
GIN. Dat so? Well, I ’low dat _does_ make _some_ difference. (_Bell
again._) Wisht dat bell was in Jericho; dere’s too many people comin’
here I know. It’s de sign on de dooh. Massa Topp’ll jest naterally kill
dat painter who fumbled up dat 3 so ye can’t tell it from de 5, nor de 5
from de 7. It’s turnin’ de whole neighborhood crazy. (_Exit L._)
TICK. (_Taking up paper, reads on wrapper, “Topp & Topp.”_) Hello, here’s
an adventure. I’ve got into the house of my employer, old Topp, of Topp
& Topp, Oyster Packers. Well, it’s too late to back out now, I’ll sell
him the dogs or break a trace trying. Lucky for me I’m on the road most
of the time. I think he doesn’t know me. He’s as queer as all out o’
doors. If he should discover me and get out of humor about it, he’d give
me a passport to the street. (_Meditates._) Ah, I have it; I’m not Jim
Baggs at all. The boys used to call me Tickle. Laughed too easy and got
thrashed for it every day, in school; it became Tick for short. Now, I’m
simply Tick, James Tick, Esq. (_Voice outside. “I tell you I must see
him.”_) Hello! more dogs?
_ENTER GINGER and SPRATT, L._
GIN. (_To SPRATT._) Hadn’t you bettah try No. 5, sah? I think dat’s de
place youall’s lookin’ foh.
SPRATT. I have tried No. 5 and they say No. 3 is the place.
GIN. S’pose you try No. 7.
SPRATT. This is the place, I’m sure. I won’t be put off. (_Takes chair,
eyes TICK suspiciously._)
GIN. Cahd, sir, I’ll take in your cahd. (_SPRATT gives soiled card._)
(_Aside._) Jiminy, dat’s a dirty cahd, if I hand dat cahd to Massa Topp
he’ll give me fits. (_Tears card and throws it under table._) ’Scuse me
(_to SPRATT_), w’at did ye say youah name was?
SPRATT. (_Grumbles._) Confound the nigger. I gave you my card.
GIN. Massa is a little ’tickler; he doesn’t like cahds.
TICK. I’ve been that way myself—after staying too long in the game.
GIN. (_To SPRATT._) Name, sah?
SPRATT. Spratt.
GIN. (_Grins._) Jack Spratt?
SPRATT. Impertinent!
GIN. Yis, sah; long name, sah.
TICK. By the way, what is your name?
GIN. Potts, sah! Gingeh Potts.
TICK. Ginger; that’s a lively name.
GIN. Name, sah!
TICK. Tick.
GIN. What’s dat?
TICK. I said Tick, James Tick!
GIN. Dat aint no Christian name; ye’s done foolin’ me.
TICK. (_Slipping coin into GINGER’S hand._) It isn’t Tick, but Tick goes.
GIN. (_Bowing profusely._) To be suah! James Tick, Esquire (_stress on
Esq._) an’ Jack Spratt.
SPRATT. (_With offended dignity._) Robert Spratt.
GIN. Yis, sah! James Tick, Esq., and Bob Spratt.
SPRATT. (_Aside._) The monkey!
(_Exit GIN., D. F._)
TICK. (_Eying SPRATT. Aside._) If that guy is a dog fancier, then I’ll
quit the business.
SPRATT. (_Aside._) He looks too young for a _father_ in adversity.
Guardian, possibly. (_To TICK._) Our business is mutual, I presume.
TICK. I presume you know nothing about it.
SPRATT. (_Aside._) A good guess. He is uneasy. (_To TICK._) I presume we
can be friendly about it.
TICK. (_Turning away._) Presumption is a good thing—for a book agent.
SPRATT. (_Aside._) A hard case to handle. I’ll draw him out. (_To TICK._)
If I may ask, _father_?
TICK. Look here, stranger, you are impertinent.
SPRATT. Then, I am right. You _are_ a father.
TICK. It’s a lie; I’m not married!
SPRATT. Beg pardon; that makes _some_ difference.
TICK. _Some!_ What do you mean by that?
SPRATT. You need not be so touchy. This is a free and fair rivalry, isn’t
it?
TICK. What are you talking about? Are you an escaped lunatic?
SPRATT. You are insulting. (_Turns away angrily._)
TICK. (_Aside._) What is he up to? There’s something here too deep for me!
SPRATT. (_Aside._) I’d best conciliate him. (_To TICK._) Guardian,
perhaps?
TICK. Guardian! What do I think of them on general principles? I don’t
like them. I had one once. He spent all my money, then married my only
sister and spent hers. I’ve no use for them. I recommend you to take one.
SPRATT. Me! Confound your insinuation. You mistake me entirely. I—
_ENTER TOPP, D. F., comes down C._
TOPP. (_Eyes them with quick keen scrutiny._) Good morning, gentlemen,
which is Mr. Dick Spratt?
SPRATT. (_Rushing up with card._) Robert Spratt, sir.
TICK. (_Rushing up with card, each trying to get ahead of the other._)
Here’s my card sir, I represent—confound it (_hastily pocketing card_);
(_aside_) “card of the firm”; (_confused_) my name is James Tick,
_Esquire_.
TOPP. (_With slight emphasis._) Oh, I see, James Tick, _Esquire_; and
Robert Spratt, _Esquire_, too, I presume? Your business, gentlemen.
SPRATT. (_Trying to get ahead of TICK._) I have just what you want sir,
right here, lovely disposition, good health, good stock, pardon me if I
say it myself.
TICK. (_Insinuating himself before SPRATT._) Pardon _me_ my house—hang
it, I don’t mean house—my goods are A 1, good health, clean skin, and the
most beautiful long ears.
SPRATT. (_Contemptuously._) Long ears! I’d be ashamed to tell it!
TICK. Long winded, trim in the flank—
SPRATT. Flanks! that’s indelicate!
TICK. Delicacy, indeed; I’d like to know what delicacy has to do in this
case!
TOPP. (_Annoyed and puzzled._) Nothing, it seems, gentlemen; what on
earth are you rowing about? If you have any business, we’ll reach it
sooner one at a time.
SPRATT. (_Vociferating._) I was here first.
TICK. That’s false, I was here first. Wasn’t I Ginger?
SPRATT. That infernal nigger sent me away three times before he’d let me
in.
TOPP. (_Stiffly._) We will consider you first. Proceed.
SPRATT. As I said, lively disposition, good health, good stock—
TICK. Can you furnish a written pedigree?
SPRATT. Pedigree! I am making a note of your insulting language. (_To
TOPP._) In short, they are just what you want.
TICK. Health is very important, but allow me—(_TOPP frowns at TICK who
stops_).
SPRATT. Their names sir, are—
TOPP. Bother the names! Gentlemen, I fail to comprehend the object of
this interview. I deem your business absurd. If you have any proposition
to submit do it in writing.
SPRATT. My dear sir, the pen cannot do justice to my lovely—
TICK. By the way, are they mangy?
SPRATT. I’ll stand this no longer, your language is slanderous. (_Shakes
his fist at TICK._) If I had you outside!
TOPP. A vulgar brawl. (_Enraged._) This is too much. (_Pulls bell by D.
F._) A row between two ruffians in my own house.
_ENTER GINGER, R._
TOPP. Potts, show these gentlemen out.
SPRATT. Potts, didn’t I come first?
TICK. (_Winking at GIN._) Look here; you know I came first.
GIN. (_To TOPP._) I think dey come sumiltudinous. I’m ’fraid dey won’t
go. Dey’s de most obstinatest chaps I ever see.
TOPP. Then kick them out—call a policeman. Get rid of them.
GIN. (_To SPRATT._) Now you heah dat? Cleah out!
SPRATT. (_Backing towards door L._) This is outrageous. (_To TOPP._) I’ll
bring an action for damages. (_To TICK._) This is your work, you villain.
I’ll get even—(_GIN. seizes him by the collar and runs him out L._)
TICK. (_Aside._) I’m going to see what this old cock _does_ want anyway.
_RE-ENTER GIN. L._
GIN. Now sah, dah’s de door.
TICK. (_Looking._) So it is. A door’s a door even if there’s nothing in
it. (_Gives him a coin. GIN. bows and slips out, leaving TICK, down C.
TOPP opening letters R. of table._)
TOPP. Annoyances go in troops, it appears. I can’t understand why I
should get all these letters and have so many callers too. (_Reads
letter._)
“Mr. X., 3 Druid Hill Place:
“Sir: Having seen your advertisement for lady amanuensis, I
hereby apply for the place. I am not exactly a brunette, but
have beautiful, wavy, light-brown hair with blue eyes. Am tall,
slender and graceful, and my friends say I am good looking.”
Well, really that’s a strange letter.
TICK. (_Aside._) Oho! this is getting interesting.
TOPP. What the deuce does the woman mean? I shall need an amanuensis if
I answer all these. (_Throws letter aside toward TICK and opens two or
three more; TICK picks up letter._)
TOPP. (_Reading._) “Dear Sir:—I think I can fill the bill exactly.” What
bill? That is direct. Signed, Maud Martin. (_Opens another._)
TICK. (_Reading._) “I dress stylish and am fond of”—(_Pause to make out
word_).
TOPP. (_Reading._) “I am a light blonde with clear rosy complexion and
am”—(_Pause to decipher word_).
TICK. (_Reading._) “Fond of amusements, particularly”—
TOPP. (_Reading, puzzled._) What is that?—am—am—edicated—vulgar thing—no,
it is not edicated, (_spells_) eddicted—indeed—to the theatre. Hum; I’m
not surprised.
TICK. (_Reading._) “Opera parties and a quiet”—
TOPP. Dear me, this is all very curious. She evidently thinks complexion
and the cut of her gown has something to do with stenography. (_Stops to
think, puzzled, opens another. Amazed to see TICK reading letter._)
TICK. —“and a quiet little oyster supper.” Oh! the old sinner. I’m onto
him.
TOPP. (_Flushing angry._) Look here, sir, are _you_ here yet? And reading
my letters too! This is most extraordinary! This is too much, sir!
TICK. It _is_ too much for _one_. You need help!
TOPP. Help! What do you mean, sir? I can manage my affairs without
your assistance. I thought I told Potts to show you out. (_Rings bell
viciously._) Where is that niggro?
_ENTER GIN. D. F._
GIN. Did you ring, sah?
TOPP. Did I ring? I’ve been ringing all morning.
GIN. (_Bowing._) Yis, sah!
TOPP. Potts, show this man out.
GIN. I done showed him de door wunst.
TOPP. Show it to him again. Show him the outside of it.
GIN. Yis, sah.
TOPP. What about these letters? They are apparently not mine.
GIN. De postman done tote ’em heah. Dey wouldn’t have ’em at No. 5.
TOPP. What has No. 5 to do with my mail? I have not advertised for any
amanuensis. Take them to No. 5 and say it’s about the amanuensis.
GIN. (_Bewildered._) A—man—you—and—what sort of a man did you say, sah?
TOPP. Go! Say nothing! Pick up those on the floor.
TICK. (_Aside._) The sly old dog. He’s hedging.
TOPP. (_Looking at envelope._) Potts!
GIN. Yis, sah!
TOPP. How did the postman get this address mixed up with No. 5? That’s a
plain enough 5.
GIN. Ye see it’s like dis, massa, he’s a new man an’ de painter done put
so many querliques on de figgers when he painted new numbers las’ week
dat ye can’t tell de 3 from de 5, nur de 5 from de 7. De 3 has a handle
to it, an’ de 5 has whiskers, an’ de 7 looks powerful groggy, an’ sorter
bow-legged.
TOPP. Oh! high art on a transom. I see.
GIN. Yes, sah! High art, so high de postman couldn’t see it.
TOPP. Have our number re-painted plainly at once, and see that it is a 3.
Confound this so-called artistic lettering. People will take the place
for a Chinese laundry. (_Bell, exit GIN._) (_To TICK._) Aren’t you going,
sir? Can’t you take a hint?
TICK. (_Bowing politely._) I am waiting to be shown out. (_Moves down L._)
TOPP. (_Apologetically._) Oh, to be sure! I beg your pardon.
TICK. Don’t mention it.
_RE-ENTER GIN. L. with MRS. TWIGGS-KNOTT, she goes up C._
GIN. (_Announces._) Mrs. Twiggs-Knott.
TOPP. (_Advancing._) Eh? What is the name?
MRS. T-K. Twiggs-hyphen-Knott.
TOPP. Ah, to be sure! To what do I owe the pleasure of this call, Mrs.
Twiggs-hafaknot?
MRS. T-K. I beg your pardon! It isn’t Twiggs-hyphen-Knott! simply
Twiggs-Knott. I spell it with a hyphen.
TOPP. And pronounce it without a hyphen.
MRS. T-K. Yes.
TOPP. I see. I beg your pardon, madam! (_Aside._) Devilish fine woman!
MRS. T-K. Twiggs, maiden name; Twiggs-Knott, married name.
TOPP. I comprehend, perfectly. (_Aside._) A widow!
TICK. (_Aside._) I wonder if the old Mormon will take this trick?
TOPP. Mrs. Twiggs-Knott, may I enquire to what I owe this pleasure?
MRS. T-K. Certainly! I called in answer to your advertisement!
TOPP. (_Starting._) There’s a mistake!
TICK. (_Aside._) Sly old dog!
MRS. T-K. I think there is no mistake. I called at No. 5, and they said
it was No. 3.
TOPP. I am sure it must be one of my neighbors. May the devil take
that painter! I mean, begging pardon madam, try No. 7. (_Aside._) An
adventuress.
MRS. T-K. I did try 7 and they said they couldn’t be pestered with other
people’s callers. They were sure this is the right place.
TOPP. A fig for their assurance! I wish people would mind their own
business. (_Aside._) Good Lord deliver me! (_To MRS. T-K._) Madam, go
home and make an inventory of your attractions.
MRS. T-K. Sir!
TOPP. Schedule your charms!
MRS. T-K. They are indeed very charming.
TOPP. (_Aside._) The brazen baggage! (_To her._) Make out your
specifications.
TICK. Marked “Exhibit A,” etc.
MRS. T-K. Is it so very important as that?
TOPP. (_Aside._) I’ll scare her away! (_To her._) Oh! yes, of the utmost
importance. The strain is especially—
TICK. Yes, the strain is everything, mine is all O. K. in the books.
TOPP. (_Surprised._) Say now! Are you here yet, young man? Explain your
conduct, sir. Confound you, you are listening to a private conversation.
TICK. I’m waiting to be shown out.
TOPP. Oh, to be sure! Where is that infernal niggro. (_Rings bell._)
TICK. The pedigree of mine is without a flaw. They are from Spots, mother
Fly, sire, Robinson Crusoe. (_TOPP and MRS. T-K look puzzled._) Are yours
down in the books?
MRS. T-K. In the books? I don’t understand you.
TICK. Who was their sire?
MRS. T-K. Sir? Their sire? This is grossly insulting. (_Screams._) Oh,
dear me, oh, oh. Sir (_To TOPP_), are you a man to see a woman thus
insulted in your own house?
TOPP. (_Crosses to L., to TICK._) What the devil are you doing?
TICK. I don’t know.
MRS. T-K. (_Screams hysterically_) Oh, my precious darlings! Oh, my dear
little angels! Oh, I shall faint!
TOPP. She’s going to faint. (_Prances around excitedly._) Where’s that
niggro?
MRS. T-K. (_Hysterically._) Help! (_About to faint._)
TOPP. Allow me madam! (_About to support her. TICK adroitly slides
between, catching her._)
TICK. Allow _me_ madam!
MRS. T-K. (_Hastily standing erect._) _You!_ Oh, you wretch! How dare
you! I’ll leave this house at once, since a lady is not free from insult
here.
TOPP. But, madam, allow me to explain—I beg you will not be hasty,
stay—there she goes—(_She exits in dudgeon. L._) (_To TICK._) This is
disgraceful, sir!
TICK. I quite agree with you, and at your age too. Now why do you prefer
a blonde? Brunettes are more to my taste.
TOPP. (_In towering passion._) Your taste? Blonde! Brunette! I have
expressed no choice, you impertinent coxcomb. Why don’t you go? Where
_is_ that niggro? If he doesn’t kick you down stairs, I will. (_Going to
bell._)
_ENTER GIN. L. ANGIE following appears in door._
GIN. Massa Topp, a young lady dat wants to see you.
TOPP. (_Cross._) Send her away, I wont see her. (_Sees Angie, who comes
forward smiling; he changes._) Ah! yes, what can I do for you?
ANGIE. I called in answer to your advertisement.
TOPP. (_Calming down._) Hum! yes. (_Aside._) Confound it, which does she
mean? (_To ANGIE._) Be seated. (_Aside._) How shall I begin?
ANGIE. Thank you! (_Seats herself chair L._)
TICK. (_Aside._) Typewriter or dog fancier?
TOPP. (_Aside._) Can’t be twins. Typewriter of course. (_To ANGIE._) May
I ask, do you take readily?
ANGIE. (_Confused._) Why, sir, I—yes—that is, my friends tell me I am
very taking!
TICK. (_Aside._) Oho!
TOPP. (_Confused. Admires her._) I quite agree with them, but you mistake
my meaning. I meant—ah—are you _rapid_?
ANGIE. (_Rising offended._) Sir!
TICK. (_Stepping between them, L.C._) Allow _me_ to explain! She doesn’t
catch on.
ANGIE. (_Laughs._) No, I don’t!
TOPP. (_Brushing TICK away. Aside._) It must be twins, then. (_To
ANGIE._) Write full particulars, give family history, etc.
TICK. And be sure to name the sire. Strain is everything in—
TOPP. You are in the presence of a lady, sir. Conduct yourself
accordingly, or I shall hold you responsible. (_Pushes him aside._)
TICK. You don’t play _that_ game on _me_! I’m not responsible.
TOPP. A correct observation, on my life.
TICK. (_Getting between them._) Don’t bother me. This is my customer.
(_Pulls TOPP away C._)
TOPP. What is that you say?
ANGIE. (_Puzzled._) Goodness, me, what are they both talking about!
TOPP. (_Aside._) There! wrong again! It _is_ dogs. (_Angry._) Madam—miss,
if there is anything I—(_Stops. Aside._) I must be civil. She’s very
pretty. Miss, I think you had best go home and write about them.
(_Aside._) I’ll buy them and drown them.
TICK. Old Bluebeard! She’s a dear little angel.
TOPP. There is my card. I’ll be delighted to hear from you.
TICK. (_Aside._) Who doubts it?
ANGIE. Thank you very much, Mr. Topp.
TOPP. Don’t mention it, pray. By the way I’ll take _your_ address.
(_Takes out note book. TICK does same._)
ANGIE. Miss Angie Twiggs, Ferndale Park, Cottage No. 12.
TOPP. (_Writing._) Thank you, I have it.
TICK. (_Talking unconsciously._) Yes, I have it.
TOPP. (_Furious._) Why, you cad, are you taking that address? Your
impudence is simply amazing! I’ll brain you, sir!
TICK. No you wont.
TOPP. What are you going to do with that address? I wont allow this. Give
it up, sir, or I’ll knock you down! (_Business of sparring._)
ANGIE. (_Screams._) Oh, gentlemen! Oh, oh, please don’t!
TOPP. (_Desisting._) To be sure, there is a lady present.
TICK. There is, and don’t you forget it.
TOPP. Forget what, sir?
TICK. That there is a lady present, a _young_ lady!
TOPP. (_Glaring at him._) I shan’t forget it. I need no lessons in
manners from you, sir.
TICK. I was only going to say that fighting is rude, and—
TOPP. Have the goodness to cut short your disquisition. Now, _are_ you
ever going?
TICK. I’m waiting to be shown out.
TOPP. I beg pardon, so you are. Where is that Potts? (_Rings bell
violently._) A niggro is the most aggravating of all evils. I’ll flog
that boy.
ANGIE. (_Aside._) What a very eccentric pair. Mr. Topp, I think I shall
go. I will write you soon.
TOPP. I shall receive your missive with pleasure.
TICK. (_Aside._) Poor innocent thing. Not if I can save her.
(_Theatrically._) I will save her!
TOPP. Eh, what’s that you say?
TICK. Oh, nothing much!
TOPP. (_Bows and leads way for ANGIE, going L._) I am delighted, Miss
Twiggs—delighted with this short call. Potts will show you out in a
minute.
_ENTER GIN. L._
Potts, stir yourself! show this young lady out.
GIN. Yis, sah.
TOPP. And show that young man out, too. You black rascal, I told you to
do that before.
GIN. Yis, sah (_Starts L. ANGIE and TICK following_).
TOPP. Hold on there a moment, Potts! Don’t you know better than that?
Show the young lady out _first_! (_Takes TICK by collar and pulls
him back._) Don’t think you shall escape so easily. I shall hold you
accountable, sir.
TICK. It’s my turn to be shown out. Haven’t I been waiting for an hour to
be shown out?
TOPP. You don’t go just yet, young man, I have use for you.
TICK. (_Goes up R._) He recognizes me at last. My place is as good as
vacant. (_Turning back._) I am at your service, Mr. Topp.
TOPP. Very well. Now what do you mean, sir, by coming into my house in
this way, poking into my letters, listening to my private affairs and
taking the addresses of lady callers? This is outrageous, sir!
TICK. (_Aside._) He doesn’t know me. I’ll bluff a little. (_To T._) Do me
the favor to observe that I came here on business.
TOPP. Business! What is your business, pray? Why havn’t you stated it an
hour ago?
TICK. I never crowd a customer.
TOPP. (_Surprised._) Customer!
TICK. I always wait till he is not busy, then I get him into a good humor—
TOPP. (_Snorting._) Oh, you do; then let me say that I am not in a good
humor.
TICK. No, your humor is bad.
TOPP. And I will have none of your attempts at witticism.
_ENTER GIN. L._
GIN. Massa Topp, dem kids is crying fit to kill!
TOPP. Kids! What do you mean by kids?
GIN. Wy dat gemmen left two kids in de yard.
TOPP. Goats on my lawn! They’ll ruin all the shrubbery. Of all things
I detest a goat. First we were beset by a legion of dogs, now we are
threatened with goats. This is no menagerie. Put them out at once, at
once I say, before they ruin the plants.
GIN. But massa—
TOPP. Go immediately or I’ll thrash you. (_Picks up paper-weight to
throw. GIN. exits rapidly L._) I’ll have to part with that niggro.
TICK. Old family retainer, I suppose?
TOPP. Yes, and like most heirlooms of no value whatever. He is one of the
fixtures in the family along with our traditions. His grandfather was
servant of my grandfather; his mother was my nurse.
TICK. It is very commendable of you, sir, to bear with his failings.
TOPP. Well, I doubt it sometimes. But as I said, he is a fixture along
with our tradition of twins; twin brothers have been at the head of the
firm of Topp & Topp for three generations. When my poor brother died
five years ago the line was broken. Now, alas, it is necessary to resort
to _adoption_.
TICK. Very sad, sir, to see an honored old house on the verge of
extinction.
_ENTER GIN. and SPRATT L._ (_They listen._)
TOPP. Your sentiments are very commendable, very! But, hang it, sir, you
make too sure of your premise. I am on the verge, but not the verge of
extinction.
TICK. What verge, then?
TOPP. (_With sudden gayety._) My boy, it makes me so good natured to
think of it, and your inquisitiveness is so very refreshing that, by
Jove, I’ll gratify it. I’m going to marry that young lady.
TICK. (_Aside._) Well, he has assurance. A rival! (_To TOPP._) I admire
your taste.
TOPP. Aint I a lucky chap? Gad, I feel twenty-five. I think fifty-five is
not very old, what do you say?
TICK. Not so old as seventy-five.
TOPP. (_Growls._) Seventy-five is not in question, sir. (_To himself._)
Ah! I’m in luck. That little blonde (or brunette, as the case maybe) is
very pretty!
TICK. (_Aside._) I’ll head him off! (_To TOPP._) May I suggest, sir, that
your acquaintance with the young lady is rather brief.
TOPP. A fig for your suggestion. She’ll come around all right. By the
way, your alleged business seems to consist chiefly in poking your nose
into other people’s affairs. I have suggested several times that you take
your leave.
TICK. (_Bowing._) At your pleasure. I’m waiting to be shown out.
TOPP. O, to be sure! I beg pardon. I’ll ring for my man. (_Starts to D.
F. to pull bell. Sees GIN. and SPRATT in door._) Potts, you there! Havn’t
I told you a thousand times not to stand listening?
GIN. An ’bout ’leven hundred times never to speak while other folks was
talked to.
TOPP. Silence! Who is this person? (_SPRATT steps in._)
GIN. Dat’s de man wot fotched de kids.
TOPP. (_To SPRATT, with temper._) Did you leave any kids on my lawn!
sir? That is actionable. I’ll prosecute you. I’ll see if there’s any law
for making bedlam out of a quiet neighborhood, and turning objectionable
animals loose on one’s lawn. Potts, take away those kids.
SPRATT. (_Angrily._) Kids? How dare you allude to Grover Cleveland Spratt
and Benjamin Harrison Spratt in that way?
TOPP. Your nomenclature is ridiculous.
SPRATT. I beg to differ. Not knowing your politics, I thought I’d please
you one way or the other. You can change whichever name you don’t like.
TOPP. I don’t like either. I am a Prohibitionist!
SPRATT. Then change both!
TOPP. Change both! I’ll have them drowned, Potts, do you hear that? Drown
them!
GIN. (_Starting._) Foh de Lord’s sake, Massa Topp, dat’s more dan my
conscience kin stan’.
SPRATT. I overlook your insult. To return to business, you advertised for
them.
TOPP. What, I! Never! Take them away instanter or I’ll not answer for
their lives.
SPRATT. You gray-headed old monster!
TOPP. (_Enraged._) What! Call me names in my own house.
SPRATT. Yes, and I’ve a mind to chastise you.
TOPP. Chastise _me_! Don’t you try it. (_Feint of sparring. Catches crick
in shoulder. SPRATT laughs._) Laughing at me, you ruffian! I’m not so
decrepit, sir, I’d have you understand!
SPRATT. (_Boastingly._) I could do you in a minute.
TOPP. I am forgetting myself, you are beneath my notice. Potts, show this
man out.
TICK. (_Aside._) This is a good time for me to go and see Angie. (_Looks
in note book._) Cottage No. 3, Ferndale Park.
GIN. Beg pardon, massa, did you say _show_ him out or _throw_ him out?
TOPP. Either! Use your pleasure. Get rid of him.
GIN. (_To SPRATT._) Do you see dat dooh?
SPRATT. I’ll have the law on you. (_Backing out L._)
GIN. Scoot! (_SPRATT exits just ahead of GINGER’S boot._)
TOPP. Here’s a forenoon wasted by a pack of lunatics. (_Pause._) What
does this internal tumult mean? (_Paces floor._) It isn’t the threats
of that man. Bah, the braggart! I feel so light hearted. My pulse is
bounding. (_Feels pulse._) About 85. I feel the buoyancy and lightness of
thirty years ago. (_Sings snatch of old song._)
“I feel just as happy as a big sun flower,
That nods and bends in the breezes,
And my heart is as light as
The wind that blows the leaves from off the treeses.”
I haven’t been that way since I was forty. At thirty I was in love with
every pretty face and figure. What a pretty name, _Angie_. (_Enter GIN._)
And those eyes! (_GIN. makes extravagant gestures of satisfaction._)
And that exquisite little mouth! And what a lovely chin—ah! the chin is
an important feature. Yes, Cadwalader Topp, this is love. (_GIN. makes
gesture of embracing a lady._) Old boy you have it again, same old
symptoms aggravated. I’ll dress at once and call on her this very day.
At my age no time is to be lost. My age! Pshaw! Age does not consist in
years. (_Turns suddenly, sees GIN. D. F. in act of embracing imaginary
lady. Tableau._)
QUICK CURTAIN.