DADDY LONG-LEGS
By JEAN WEBSTER
FRENCH’S STANDARD LIBRARY EDITION
SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th St., New York
------------------------------------------------------------------------
BILLETED.
A comedy in 3 acts, by F. Tennison Jesse and H. Harwood. 4 males, 5
females. One easy interior scene. A charming comedy, constructed with
uncommon skill, and abounds with clever lines. Margaret Anglin’s big
success. Amateurs will find this comedy easy to produce and popular with
all audiences. Price, 60 Cents.
NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH.
A comedy in 3 acts. By James Montgomery. 5 males, 6 females. Costumes,
modern. Two interior scenes. Plays 2½ hours.
Is it possible to tell the absolute truth—even for twenty-four hours? It
is—at least Bob Bennett, the hero of “Nothing But the Truth,”
accomplished the feat. The bet he made with his business partners, and
the trouble he got into—with his partners, his friends, and his
fiancée—this is the subject of William Collier’s tremendous comedy hit.
“Nothing But the Truth” can be wholeheartedly recommended as one of the
most sprightly, amusing and popular comedies that this country can
boast. Price, 60 Cents.
IN WALKED JIMMY.
A comedy in 4 acts, by Minnie Z. Jaffa. 10 males, 2 females (although
any number of males and females may be used as clerks, etc.). Two
interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Plays 2½ hours. The thing into
which Jimmy walked was a broken-down shoe factory, when the clerks had
all been fired, and when the proprietor was in serious contemplation of
suicide.
Jimmy, nothing else but plain Jimmy, would have been a mysterious figure
had it not been for his matter-of-fact manner, his smile and his
everlasting humanness. He put the shoe business on its feet, won the
heart of the girl clerk, saved her erring brother from jail, escaped
that place as a permanent boarding house himself, and foiled the
villain.
Clean, wholesome comedy with just a touch of human nature, just a dash
of excitement and more than a little bit of true philosophy make “In
Walked Jimmy” one of the most delightful of plays. Jimmy is full of the
religion of life, the religion of happiness, and the religion of
helpfulness, and he so permeates the atmosphere with his “religion” that
everyone is happy. The spirit of optimism, good cheer, and hearty
laughter dominates the play. There is not a dull moment in any of the
four acts. We strongly recommend it. Price, 60 Cents.
MARTHA BY-THE-DAY.
An optimistic comedy in three acts, by Julie M. Lippmann, author of the
“Martha” stories. 5 males, 5 females. Three interior scenes. Costumes
modern. Plays 2½ hours.
It is altogether a gentle thing, this play. It is full of quaint humor,
old-fashioned, homely sentiment, the kind that people who see the play
will recall and chuckle over to-morrow and the next day.
Miss Lippmann has herself adapted her very successful book for stage
service, and in doing this has selected from her novel the most telling
incidents, infectious comedy and homely sentiment for the play, and the
result is thoroughly delightful. Price, 60 Cents.
(The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced)
---------------------------------------------------------
SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City
New and Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Free on Request
------------------------------------------------------------------------
DADDY LONG-LEGS
A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS
BY
JEAN WEBSTER
_All Rights Reserved_
CAUTION.—Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that “DADDY
LONG-LEGS,” being fully protected under the copyright laws of the
United States, Great Britain and Canada, is subject to a royalty,
and anyone presenting the play without the consent of the owners or
their authorized agents will be liable to the penalties by law
provided. Application for amateur acting rights must be made to
SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York. Applications for
professional acting rights must be made to Henry Miller, Henry
Miller Theatre, 124 West 43d Street, New York City.
NEW YORK │ LONDON
SAMUEL FRENCH │ SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD.
PUBLISHER │ 26 SOUTHAMPTON STREET
28-30 WEST 38TH STREET │ STRAND
------------------------------------------------------------------------
COPYRIGHT, 1912 (IN NOVEL FORM), BY THE CENTURY CO.
COPYRIGHT, 1914, BY JEAN WEBSTER
COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY SAMUEL FRENCH
Especial notice should be taken that the possession of this book without
a valid contract for production first having been obtained from the
publisher, confers no right or license to professionals or amateurs to
produce the play publicly or in private for gain or charity.
In its present form this play is dedicated to the reading public only,
and no performance, representation, production, recitation, or public
reading may be given except by special arrangement with Samuel French,
28-30 West 38th Street, New York.
This play may be presented by amateurs upon payment of a royalty of
Twenty-Five Dollars for each performance, payable to Samuel French,
28-30 West 38th Street, New York, one week before the date when the play
is given.
Whenever the play is produced the following notice must appear on all
programs, printing and advertising for the play: “Produced by special
arrangement with Samuel French of New York.”
Attention is called to the penalty provided by law for any infringement
of the author’s rights, as follows:
“SECTION 4966:—Any person publicly performing or representing any
dramatic or musical composition for which copyright has been obtained,
without the consent of the proprietor of said dramatic or musical
compositions, or his heirs and assigns, shall be liable for damages
thereof, such damages, in all cases to be assessed at such sum, not less
than one hundred dollars for the first and fifty dollars for every
subsequent performance, as to the court shall appear to be just. If the
unlawful performance and representation be wilful and for profit, such
person or persons shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction
shall be imprisoned for a period not exceeding one year.”—U. S. Revised
Statutes: Title 60, Chap. 3.
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CHARACTERS
JERVIS PENDLETON
JAMES MCBRIDE
CYRUS WYKOFF
ABNER PARSONS
GRIGGS
WALTERS
JUDY
MISS PRITCHARD
MRS. PENDLETON
JULIA PENDLETON
SALLIE MCBRIDE
MRS. SEMPLE
MRS. LIPPETT
SADIE KATE }
GLADIOLA }
LORETTA } ORPHAN CHILDREN
MAMIE } AT THE JOHN
FREDDIE PERKINS } GRIER HOME
CARRIE }
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SYNOPSIS OF SCENES
ACT I
The dining-room of the John Grier Home on Trustees’ Day.
ACT II
Judy’s college study, an afternoon in May, one year later.
ACT III
The sitting-room at Lock Willow farm, summer, three years later.
ACT IV
Mr. Pendleton’s library, two months later.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
DADDY LONG-LEGS
ACT I
_SCENE: The dining-room of the John Grier Home on Trustees’ Day. A plan
and full description of the scene will be found at the end of the
play._
_DISCOVERED: At Rise, Two Orphans are seated down stage at table L. of
C. SADIE KATE R. of table and LORETTA on the stool below table,
engaged in cleaning silver. GLADIOLA is up stage behind upper table
R. polishing a cup. After the curtain is well up, GLADIOLA mounts on
chair before cupboard to place cup in cupboard and FREDDIE PERKINS
enters at lower R. I._
_They are dressed exactly alike in stiffly starched gingham
pinafores (blue) with a row of white china buttons down the back and
a suggestion of red flannel petticoat showing beneath. Each child
has her hair strained back tightly and braided into two pig-tails.
They sit nervously and work steadily and silently with no attempt at
childish chatter. Freddie Perkins is about nine years old and is
dressed in dark knickerbockers and a jumper made of the same striped
blue gingham that the girls are wearing. His hair is shaved close to
his head._
_He carries a rolled-up rag rug over his shoulders, and as he
passes, he purposely knocks against SADIE KATE. She hits back
viciously and proceeds with her work. Freddie up and exits C. and L.
2 and 4 talking, 2 wipes 4’s nose._
_GLADIOLA on chair at back, in wiping a cup lets it slip from her
hands and crash to the floor. She backs against the table C. and
stands horrified, staring at the pieces._
_LIGHTS begin to dim shortly after rise._
GLADIOLA. It’s one o’ them best cups!
SADIE KATE. Oh my goodness! You’ll get it!
GLADIOLA. What’ll I do?
SADIE KATE. Hide it, quick!
MRS. LIPPETT. (_Off stage_) Get out of my way!
LORETTA. She’s coming! Oh, she’s coming!
SADIE KATE. (_To GLADIOLA, snatching up one of the cups and leaning
over, rolling it along the floor to GLADIOLA_) Say ye knocked this off
wid yer elbow.
(_They resume their work in stolid silence. GLADIOLA gets down on her
knees and hands and places the broken pieces under table-legs at R. of
C. then stands behind table as MRS. LIPPETT enters from the pantry.
She is a hard-faced, domineering woman of about forty with an
unpleasant voice that grows shrill when she loses her temper. She is
wearing a polka-dotted silk dress, very tight and rather fussily made
with a profusion of cheap lace trimmings. It is turned up from the
bottom and pinned so that she will not soil it._)
MRS. LIPPETT. (_Holds entrance until GLADIOLA is up_) What was that
noise? (_Stands inside U. R._)
GLADIOLA. I knocked this off with my elbow, ma’am.
MRS. L. (_Crossing to C._) I thought you’d broken something! Come, come.
Sadie Kate! Are you going to be all day at this? (_Picks up spoons,
examines them critically, hands one back_) Polish that again! (_Crosses
to table R., looking over preparations_) Oh, good heavens, the
sandwiches aren’t made! Where’s Judy Abbott? She ought to be here to
look after things!
SADIE KATE. She’s up in the nursery, ma’am, trying to keep the babies
quiet so they won’t disturb the trustees.
MRS. L. Well, you go up and tell her to come down immediately. I never
knew anyone like that girl. She’s always somewhere else. (_SADIE KATE
rises and MRS. L. turns to her sharply_) Hurry up! Don’t stand there
staring! (_Pushes SADIE KATE, who exits R. I. Exit 2 and 4. As GLADIOLA
brings down spoon to table, lower R. MRS. LIPPETT is looking over the
dishes_) Why, we’re one cup short. I thought I got down enough!
(_GLADIOLA, in fear, starts to tiptoe off to R. I. Stopping abruptly as
MRS. L. calls her name_) Gladiola Murphy! Come here! (_GLADIOLA
approaches her apprehensively_) You stand on that chair and get down
another one of those best cups.
GLADIOLA. (_Going up, gleefully_) Yes, ma’am!
MRS. L. And mind you don’t drop it!
GLADIOLA. No, ma’am. (_Up to cupboard for a cup._)
MRS. L. (_Looks thoughtfully over tray to see what is missing_) Napkins.
(_Bustles off R. and exits R. 2 E. As she is going off FREDDIE enters at
C. Seeing MRS. LIPPETT going off he throws a kiss after her. Looking
around and seeing that he is unobserved, he goes down to table R. to
sugar bowl. Putting his hand in he pulls out a fist full and stuffs it
into his mouth. Puts his hand in again, gets another fistful and stuffs
it into his pocket. As he puts his hand in again SADIE KATE enters R. I.
and catches him. She crosses in between tables to R. of FREDDIE._)
SADIE KATE. Freddie Perkins, you let that sugar alone! (_FREDDIE makes a
face at her_) I’ll tell Mrs. Lippett!
(_GLADIOLA turns and comes down R. of FREDDIE, putting cup on tray._)
FREDDIE. I dare you to!
GLADIOLA. Freddie Perkins, you just put that sugar back. I’ll tell Mrs.
Lippett.
FREDDIE. I dare you to! (_SADIE KATE crosses over L._)
ANOTHER CHILD. She’ll say I did it. (_Both GLADIOLA and SADIE KATE push
and shove FREDDIE._)
FREDDIE. All right, keep your hair on. I’ll put it back.
GLADIOLA. You’d better, you’d better, you fresh thing!
(_SADIE KATE returns to her task at L. table and GLADIOLA goes back to
cupboard on chair, back to audience. FREDDIE looks around and seeing
that they are not watching him, goes down to sugar bowl again and
seeing the salt cellar, smiles and takes it up and begins to pour the
salt into the sugar-bowl._)
[Illustration: The girls sit at the table, their backs turned, as
Freddie pours salt into the sugar bowl.]
FREDDIE. I’m putting it back! (_Continues to pour salt until he hears
MRS. LIPPETT speaking off stage._)
MRS. L. (_Off-stage_) Why, you good for nothing child, keep out from
under my feet!
FREDDIE. (_Puts down sugar-bowl and salt cellar and runs off C. and L.
exclaiming_) All right, I put it back!
(_One child to cupboard, other child down and around to bench L., sits
on floor. MRS. LIPPETT enters with napkins and dish of sliced lemons,
crosses and sets them on the tray on table R._)
MRS. L. Hasn’t Judy Abbott come down yet?
SADIE KATE. No ma’am!
(_GLADIOLA comes down with a cup which she places on tray L. of MRS.
L._)
MRS. L. Oh, for the land’s sake! (_Picking up sugar bowl, looks in, is
about to set it down when she catches sight of the mark of grimy
fingers_) Gladiola Murphy! Aren’t you ashamed? That’s a pretty looking
sugar bowl to send up to the trustees. You take it into the pantry and
wash it. (_She gives the bowl to GLADIOLA, faces her toward the pantry
and starts her with a shove. Examines a flamboyant watch that is pinned
to her waist._) Half past four! It’s time to make the tea. (_Goes up and
turns on lamp R. of C. arch_) Where _is_ that Abbott girl? She’s enough
to try the patience of a saint! (_Turns up lamp L. of arch C. foots come
up 3-4 full. Her back is turned as JUDY enters at R._)
(_JUDY is a vividly alive young girl of 18, dressed in the same blue
gingham that the others wear, but made in a more becoming manner.
There is a suggestion of challenge in her manner. There is an air of
all-conquering youth. Neither MRS. LIPPETT’S harshness nor the sordid
air of the asylum has succeeded in cowing her. She crosses to R. of C.
and stands, looking speculatively at MRS. LIPPETT’S back. Two children
at cupboard up to pantry._)
JUDY. (_Crosses to R. C. sweetly_) Do you want me to help, Mrs. Lippett?
MRS. L. (_Turning quickly_) Well, Miss Jerusha Abbott! It’s about time
you turned up! You are the only lady of leisure in this institution
to-day. (_Comes down C._)
JUDY. I’m sorry. The nurse had to look after the sick babies and we
couldn’t leave the others alone.
MRS. L. You always have plenty of excuses.
JUDY. That new little red-headed child has licked all the green paint
off the Noah’s Ark—
MRS. L. And what do you think I was doing? Cutting the cake with one
hand and receiving the guests with the other?
JUDY. That red-headed child has swallowed some green paint—
MRS. L. I don’t care what that red-headed child has swallowed. I’m more
interested in what the trustees are going to swallow.
JUDY. (_Speaking very hurriedly_) That red-headed child has licked the
green paint off the roof of the Noah’s Ark, and I think you’d better
send for the doctor.
MRS. L. Will you stop talking and get to work?
JUDY. (_Going R._) It was _green_ and I’m afraid it will disagree with
him.
MRS. L. You get those tea things ready.
JUDY. (_Going U. R. to pantry_) Green paint’s made of arsenic. It’s
poison. I learned that in chemistry.
MRS. L. You’ve learned altogether too much! You were a great deal more
useful before you got that education! (_Goes back to children at L._)
JUDY. (_At pantry U. R. C. with a gleam of mischief_) Mrs. Lippett⸺
MRS. L. (_Over her shoulder_) Well?
JUDY. Did you put those two guinea pigs into the babies’ bath tub?
MRS. L. (_Whirling about_) Guinea pigs!
JUDY. I think they’re guinea pigs. Little brown and white animals ...
about so big.
MRS. L. Oh, good heavens! Those horrible boys!—What did you do with the
beasts?
JUDY. I didn’t touch them. I thought—
MRS. L. (_Crossing to table R._) Quick! Get them away before the
trustees find them.
JUDY. (_Coming down R._) I thought maybe that generous new trustee you
were telling us about brought them as a present for the babies.
MRS. L. And you thought I was planning to keep them in the nursery
bathtub?
JUDY. It’s so seldom used! (_Exits R. I. E. GLADIOLA down to R. of MRS.
L. Other girl to cupboard_)
MRS. L. (_Turns back muttering angrily_) Guinea pigs! (_GLADIOLA comes
down from the pantry with sugar bowl she has cleaned and puts it on
tray_) If I had my way the whole race of boys would be swept off the
face of the earth. (_SADIE KATE and LORETTA titter, then hastily repress
themselves_) Yes—and girls too! (_Little girl laughs_) That’s enough!
Clean up this mess. They’re likely to come in here. (_GLADIOLA lingers
near MRS. LIPPETT who slaps and drives her away. LORETTA rises and takes
pan and wash material across R. and up into pantry_) I suppose they’ll
be snooping all over the place. (_SADIE KATE brings spoons and places
them on tea tray in front of MRS. LIPPETT, who slaps her. SADIE KATE
crosses over R. to GLADIOLA. LORETTA comes down from pantry and joins
them_) These visiting days are enough to make a person sick. (_The
orphans stand waiting for further orders. GLADIOLA is lower R. near
door. LORETTA L. of GLADIOLA and a little above. SADIE KATE L. of
LORETTA and a little above, so they stand in a diagonal line. A buzz of
conversation and laughter heard off C. Little child cries. MRS. LIPPETT
hastily unpins her skirt_) Here they are now! Gladiola, pull up your
stockings. (_GLADIOLA pulls up her stockings_) Loretta, wipe your nose.
(_LORETTA stoops to use her petticoat_) No, no! Not on your skirt.
(_SADIE KATE gives LORETTA handkerchief_) Sadie Kate, brush back your
hair. You, too, stand up straight! (_To all_) If any of the trustees or
lady visitors speak to you, you say “Yes, ma’am”—“No, ma’am” and smile.
ORPHANS. Yes ma’am, no ma’am.
(_MISS PRITCHARD and MR. CYRUS WYKOFF enter C. MISS P. is a charming,
old-fashioned gentlewoman between fifty and sixty, with an air of
kindly sympathy for everyone. MR. WYKOFF, a short, chubby, bald-headed
man, is pompous and dignified, with an exaggerated idea of his own
importance. He wears a brown suit which fits him quite snugly—a pair
of tortoise-rimmed spectacles, and a gold watch chain. MRS. LIPPETT
crosses to C. to receive them._)
MISS PRITCHARD. (_Coming down C._) Well, Mrs. Lippett! We’re here again!
MRS. L. Miss Pritchard! (_They shake hands and MISS PRITCHARD crosses to
R. C. to children. She speaks to 1st child and each child in turn shake
their heads “Yes, ma’am,” “No, ma’am,” as ordered by MRS. L._) Mr.
Wykoff!
WYKOFF. (_L. of MRS. LIPPETT_) How de do, ma’am. Thought we’d look about
a little before refreshments. (_Crosses to L. examining._)
MRS. L. (_Down C._) It’s a pleasure to welcome you. I always look
forward to the first Wednesday of every month.
MISS P. (_Turns to 2nd child_) We have Mr. Jervis Pendleton with us
to-day.
MRS. L. I believe we are indebted to you, Miss Pritchard, for inducing
him to serve.
MISS P. (_Turns to 3rd child_) Yes, he is an old family friend.
WYKOFF. Good thing to get some fancy philanthropists on the board of an
institution like this. Their ideas aren’t always practical but their
checks are.
MISS P. (_Crossing to WYKOFF_) Poor little dears! They’re not like
children. So little spirit!
WYKOFF. (_L. of MISS P._) They are not a very classy lot.
MRS. L. (_R. of MISS P._) It is awful depressing to live with them.
MISS P. And how is my dear Judy Abbott?
MRS. L. A great trial.
WYKOFF. She’s the one we’re educating?
MISS P. (_Nodding_) Her teachers say that she is very brilliant.
MRS. L. Oh, she’s smart enough—I’m not denying that. But impertinent!
MISS P. She’s a spirited girl and needs tact. (_Crosses over to L._)
MRS. L. (_Momentarily forgetting herself_) Tact! She needs a good
thorough whipping. And I’m sorry she’s grown too big to get it.
(_Crosses to R.C._)
WYKOFF. (_Crosses to L. of MRS. L._) That’s the proper spirit, ma’am.
Keep ’em in their places. (_JERVIS and FREDDIE are heard out in hall C.
and L., playing ball. MISS PRITCHARD goes up stage L. and around to C.
to join JERVIS. JERVIS backs on stage laughing and chatting as the ball
passes between him and FREDDIE. At sound of JERVIS’ voice WYKOFF turns
and sees him, and turns back to MRS. LIPPETT_) Mr. Pendleton! (_Crosses
L. to children, MRS. LIPPETT crosses to R. of C. FREDDIE catches sight
of her, and rushes off as JERVIS comes in at C. WYKOFF passes up and
between tables, inspecting everything. MISS PRITCHARD joins JERVIS as
JERVIS comes in and they saunter down stage C._)
(_JERVIS PENDLETON is a man-of-affairs, quiet and self-contained, but
evidently used to having his own way. He has a somewhat grim sense of
humor and an air of nonchalance which in reality covers a keen
penetration. His manners are courteously deferential, but with a
suggestion of indifference underneath, which he just politely manages
to suppress._)
JERVIS. Ah, dear lady! (_MISS PRITCHARD L. of JERVIS._) So this is the
dining room! Charming apartment.
MRS. L. (_Left of C._) I believe I have never had the pleasure of
meeting Mr. Pendleton.
MISS P. (_L. of JERVIS_) Our matron, Mrs. Lippett.
JERVIS. (_Shaking hands_) Very happy to meet you, madam. (_Turns to MISS
P._)
MRS. L. (_C. of table R._) The asylum has a great deal to thank you for.
Your two dear boys are doing so well.
(_The ORPHANS at R. begin to fuss and fidget. LORETTA scratches her
head. GLADIOLA stands on one foot, then on the other, and SADIE KATE
tries to keep both quiet._)
JERVIS. (_Vaguely. Hands in coat pockets_) My two dear boys?
(_WYKOFF off up back, looking around with back turned._)
MRS. L. That you are sending to technical school.
JERVIS. Oh, yes, yes! The young engineers! Doing well, are they? That’s
good. (_Crosses over to children._)
MRS. L. I trust their reports are sent every month as you requested.
JERVIS. Yes, I believe so. (_MISS PRITCHARD up to back and joined by
WYKOFF_) My secretary looks after them. (_Sits on bench, studies
children intently. To the nearest girl_) Come here, little girl, and
shake hands with me. (_They back off_) Oh, don’t be afraid! I won’t
bite. (_JERVIS crosses L. C. in front of LIPPETT._)
MRS. L. (_Behind JERVIS and over his shoulder cautioning children.
Softly_) Oh, children, children dear, this is the kind gentleman who
sent the candy and peanuts and tickets to the circus. Shake hands with
him, darling.
(_LORETTA advances, watching MRS. LIPPETT and offers JERVIS a limp
hand._)
JERVIS. (_Arm around GLADIOLA_) And are you a good little girl?
GLADIOLA. (_Wilting with embarrassment_) Y-yes, ma’am—no, ma’am.
JERVIS (_Rising, his arm about GLADIOLA, crossing over L. C. to MISS
P._) Happy, bubbling, laughing childhood! (_MRS. LIPPETT shooes children
up into pantry and turns on lamp at R._) Nothing so beautiful in the
world!
(_Children exit L. at MRS. L.’S gesture._)
MRS. L. (_Coming to R. C._) It’s a great pleasure to live with them. I
always say that it keeps me young and happy and innocent myself.
JERVIS. (_Picks up cap from L. table. Striking cup with his knuckle, to
MISS P._) Durable!
WYKOFF. (_Coming down C._) Can’t indulge any artistic ideas in a place
like this.
JERVIS. (_Turns around and sees text at back C._) Of course! Of course!
Ah! (_Indicating text_) The Lord will provide! (_To MISS P._) Very
touching!
MRS. L. (R. C.) You wouldn’t want us to bring them up without religion?
JERVIS. (_Deprecating the idea_) No, no. But why not teach them the
truth? The Lord will provide for the rich. The poor must provide for
themselves. (_Turns to MISS P. and sets cup on table._)
WYKOFF. (_C. and R. of JERVIS_) Well, I’m a practical man, Mr.
Pendleton. I don’t know as I follow you in all your new-fangled
philosophy, but I⸺ (_JERVIS turns and faces him._)
JERVIS. Yes⸺
WYKOFF. Er—I’m convinced⸺
JERVIS. Yes—yes⸺
WYKOFF. Er—er—I’m convinced! (_Turns to MRS. L._) Here, here, Mrs.
Lippett, this floor ought to be scrubbed. (_MRS. L. crosses to him and
they go up and out C., WYKOFF complaining about conditions and MRS. L.
excusing them. MRS. L. turns on lamp in hall as she exits._)
(_At cue “This floor ought to be scrubbed,” the children come down from
pantry in single file, and march off R.I.E. JERVIS crosses to R. of C.
watching them, and stirred to pity by their dejected and whipped
manner._)
JERVIS. (R.) Poor little kiddies. (_Turning to MISS P._) There’s nothing
in it.
MISS P. (L.) What do you mean, Jervis?
JERVIS. Why, you can’t bring them up like chickens in batches of a
hundred like chickens in an incubator. It isn’t natural—it won’t work.
MISS P. (_To L. C. Sits R._) Jervis! (_He turns_) I hate to be always
begging. But there’s one of these children for whom I should so love to
manage a future.
JERVIS. (_Good-naturedly_) Another promising engineer?
MISS P. No—this time—it’s a girl.
JERVIS. (_In consternation_) A girl! My dear lady!
MISS P. And such a pretty one!
JERVIS. (_Amazed, crossing over L._) Oh, no! You can’t catch me with
that bait!
MISS P. She’s more than pretty. (_Sits bench R. of table L._)
JERVIS. (_Wearily. Hands in pocket, crosses down R._) I know—she has a
good record and deserves⸺
MISS P. She has the worst record of any child in this Home.
JERVIS. (_Interested_) What!
MISS P. She doesn’t lie out of her misdemeanors as the others do. She is
disobedient and impertinent but⸺
JERVIS. And just what is it you want me to do for this pretty,
disobedient, impertinent young person? (_Up around table R._)
MISS P. I want you—to send her to college.
JERVIS. What? To college? From an orphan asylum? Impossible!
MISS P. She’s eighteen. (_JERVIS faces front_) And ready to graduate
from the High School.
JERVIS. (_Facing MISS P._) So? I thought they never kept them after
fourteen?
MISS P. Judy Abbott was so unusually bright that the Board of Trustees
let her stay on and attend the village school.
JERVIS. Very generous!
MISS P. Of course it saved hiring someone to take care of the younger
children.
JERVIS. Thrifty and generous.
MISS P. And she has done remarkable work in English. Her teachers say
that she would make an author if she had the training.
JERVIS. An author? There are too many authors in the world already.
(_Crosses to her._) I don’t wish to make any more.
MISS P. (_Solemnly_) Suppose she should be a genius? Have you any right
to keep her down?
JERVIS. If she were a genius I couldn’t keep her down. Do you think she
would placidly stand all this? (_With a comprehensive gesture about the
room_) She would rise and mutiny if she had any spirit.
MISS P. But she’s only eighteen, and if you only knew⸺
JERVIS. (_Facing MISS P., stubbornly shaking his head_) We all have the
right to a few prejudices. You know yourself that you won’t eat bananas.
No reason in the world except that you don’t like bananas. Now I have an
antipathy, too, I don’t like girls. Never did like ’em. Never will like
’em.
MISS P. (_Rises. JERVIS walks L. MISS PRITCHARD rises_) You are a
crabbed, ill-natured, hard-shelled, old bachelor, and you don’t know
what you are talking about! You’ve never known any girls.
JERVIS. Never known any? That precious sister-in-law of mine has a
daughter coming on exactly like her.
MISS P. Baby Julia?
JERVIS. (_Turns away_) Baby Julia enters college next September.
MISS P. Think of that!
JERVIS. I might arrange for your impertinent orphan to room with my
aristocratic niece. (_Chuckles at the idea_) That would be rather a neat
joke on the Pendleton family!
MISS P. (_With asperity_) My little Judy deserves a chance for her own
sake.
JERVIS. You damned her chance when you said she was pretty.
MISS P. Why?
_Children READY_
JERVIS. Why? Why, I’d no sooner get her educated than some young
whippersnapper would come along and want to marry her. Education thrown
away. I’d rather put my money into a permanent investment.
MISS P. Do you really mean it, or is it just one of your stupid jokes?
JERVIS. (_Seriously_) I really mean it. How could one of these orphans
compete with the class of girls she would meet in college? (_Crosses
R._)
MISS P. But you haven’t seen my Judy.
JERVIS. No. But I have seen this institution and I know that no child
that was ever born could live eighteen years in the John Grier Home and
have spirit enough left to fight the world. (_Crossing L. C._)
MISS P. But my Judy’s different. Give her a chance.
JERVIS. My dear Miss Pritchard! In college your little Judy wouldn’t
have a chance. Do you think they’d take in an outsider—from an orphan
asylum?
MISS P. It’s not fair.
JERVIS. (_Bitterly_) Nothing’s fair. But it’s a fact. Don’t you see that
it would be no kindness to the girl? We should just be showing her a
glimpse of a bigger, more beautiful life, such as she has never dreamed
of, and then forbidding her to enter. No, no. Society has thrown away
your little Judy—(_Hands in pockets_)—and it’s too late now to pick up
the pieces.
MISS P. (_L.C., crushed_) Yes—but it’s cruel.
JERVIS. (_To MISS P., drawing her hand through his arm_) Well! Well!
Come and let’s have a look at that scandalous dark playroom. (_Going up
C._) Maybe you can induce me to build a new one. (_They go out C. and
L._)
(_As JERVIS and MISS P. exit both ad lib, SADIE KATE pokes her head into
room, R. I., then crosses in front to R. C. and turns to beckon the
others on._)
SADIE KATE. Come on! (_Coming R. C. GLADIOLA, LORETTA and MAMIE enter
R._) Now’s your chance! (_GLADIOLA crosses in front and up to get the
broken cup. SADIE KATE over to C. and up a little._) Take it and dump it
back of the barn!
(_Two other girls go on and in front of table to L., two little girls
stop R., one takes up cup, other stops. Littlest girl enters R. and
gets on bench and embraces JUDY._)
MAMIE. (_R. at end of lower table. LORETTA by R. I. E._) Yes, hurry,
before somebody comes and catches you. (_A sound is heard off R. in
pantry._)
SADIE KATE. Somebody’s coming!
(_GLADIOLA jumps up and the orphans assume a know-nothing attitude until
they see it is JUDY. JUDY enters C. and crosses between tables with
tray of sandwiches, stands between MAMIE and LORETTA down stage and
GLADIOLA up stage. SADIE KATE is on line with JUDY across at C._)
JUDY. Well, Chicks, what’s the matter?
_READY Sammy_
ORPHANS. (_Laughing_) Nothing.
JUDY. (_Cheerfully_) Well, run now, and wash your hands and faces and
make yourselves beautiful, ready to pass the things.
(_The children go up into pantry, SADIE KATE passing at back with
GLADIOLA. JUDY crosses to C. and puts tray on lower end of table L.
Then she goes up to cupboard and gets black box and comes down between
tables at R., opens box on bench behind first table and takes out caps
and aprons. During scene she is humming gaily to herself, “Comin’
through the Rye.” MRS. LIPPETT enters._)
MRS. L. (_Coming down C._) I’m glad to see that somebody’s carefree.
(_JUDY stops her song_) Is everything ready?
JUDY. (_At work smoothing out aprons_) Yes, Mrs. Lippett.
MRS. L. Seems though everything’s gone wrong to-day. And just when we’ve
got a rich trustee up from New York. (_Turning to L. window R._) He’s
out in the play-yard now, talking to Freddie Perkins, with a hole in his
pants that big. (_JUDY laughs_) Well, what are you laughing at? It’s no
laughing matter. Can’t you keep that child mended?
JUDY. I mend Freddie Perkins’ trousers every day of my life. There’s no
trousers left any more. Nothing but patches.
MRS. L. (_L. C., looking over at sandwiches_) Did you make those
sandwiches?
JUDY. Yes, Mrs. Lippett. I know they’re pretty thick. But the bread was
so fresh I couldn’t cut it. I’m awfully sorry.
MRS. L. (_Going up C. Mollified_) Well, maybe they’ll taste all right.
Look sharp now. I don’t want any more hitches. (_Exits C._)
GLADIOLA. (_Poking her head into room_) Judy, has she gone?
JUDY. Yes, and it’s time for you to go! Come, fly into these. (_Led by
GLADIOLA the ORPHANS come down R. GLADIOLA and LORETTA to lower R. and
begin playing. MAMIE and SADIE KATE to R. of JUDY, who gives to each of
them cap and apron she has been straightening out. They are regulation
waitress’ aprons, about three inches longer than the children’s dresses.
The caps are muslin bows fastened to an elastic. MAMIE and SADIE put on
the aprons, JUDY buttoning MAMIE’S and MAMIE buttoning SADIE’S apron.
They fasten behind. While they put on the caps GLADIOLA and LORETTA are
down R. JUDY crosses to L. C., gets tray and sandwiches and gives them
to MAMIE. MAMIE up C. JUDY takes tray of cups at R. C., gives them to
SADIE KATE. SADIE up to MAMIE at C. JUDY to R. C._) Now please be
careful, children, and don’t make any mistakes.
(_The ORPHANS go out C. and L. JUDY, with a tired sigh, comes down front
and sits on bench in front of table R. GLADIOLA kneels on bench beside
her and LORETTA on floor, kneeling. She caresses them in a manner that
shows her loneliness and longing for love._)
GLADIOLA. Judy! Tell us a story.
LORETTA. Cinderella!
GLADIOLA. No! Tell us Noah’s Ark. I’ll be the lion. (_Growls and throws
her arms around JUDY, pretending to devour her._)
JUDY. Not now, dear. Some other time.
BOTH. Yes, now!
JUDY. Poor Judy’s so tired. This is the first time I’ve sat down since 5
o’clock this morning.
LORETTA. Tell it while you are sitting down.
JUDY. I must learn my lesson for school to-morrow.
GLADIOLA. What? ’Rifmatic?
JUDY. No, not ’rifmatic. French.
LORETTA. What’s French?
JUDY. Tu es enfant très bon et je t’aime beaucoup.
(_The children laugh. FREDDY PERKINS enters C. from L. A large
three-cornered rent in the back of his trousers._)
FREDDIE. (C.) When are we going to have supper?
JUDY. (_Good-naturedly, scolding_) Freddie Perkins, turn around, sir!
(_FREDDIE makes turn._)
FREDDIE. What’s the matter? (_Children laugh. FREDDIE turns back to
them._) What are you laughing at? Cut it out! Cut it out!
JUDY. You bad, bad boy, to tear your clothes. (_Discovers a rent in the
shoulder of his shirt_) You disgraceful little rag-a-muffin!
FREDDIE. (_Sits L. of JUDY_) I don’t care, I’m hungry!
GLADIOLA. So’m I.
LORETTA. Me, too.
JUDY. You can’t have supper till the trustees go.
GLADIOLA. I hate trustees.
LORETTA. So do I.
FREDDIE. What’s to-day? Beans? (_Pause_) Or corn meal mush?
LORETTA. This is Wednesday.
GLADIOLA. It’s corn meal mush.
(_The children all join in the ORPHAN’S yell while JUDY frantically
tries to make each child be quiet. The last line tapers off into a
dying wail._)
ORPHANS:
Mush! Mush! Corn meal mush!
Slush! Slush! Same old slush!
How I hate it,
Corn—meal—mush!
JUDY. Hush, you naughty children.
(_FREDDIE sits on floor._)
GLADIOLA. Judy, tell us a story.
JUDY. No, no, no!
GLADIOLA _and_ LORETTA. (_Imitating her_) Yes, yes, yes!
JUDY. (_Pleading_) Children! I’m so tired!
FREDDIE. (_Rising_) Draw us a picture!
JUDY. I’ve no paper!
(_Children run around looking for paper. LORETTA goes around behind
table and discovers box cover. GLADIOLA takes the cover from LORETTA
and brings it to JUDY._)
GLADIOLA. Draw it on this.
(_JUDY looks dubious. Sits as before and LORETTA R. of GLADIOLA to
former position. FREDDIE L. of JUDY._)
JUDY. But I haven’t any pencil!
FREDDIE. (_Turning away disgustedly_) Oh, gee!
JUDY. I can’t draw with my finger, you know.
FREDDIE. (_Discovering piece of chalk in his pocket_) Here’s a piece of
chalk.
JUDY. Very well—Mercy! It’s all over sugar.
FREDDIE. Did I give you sugar? (_Grabs chalk in an attempt to lick the
sugar off. JUDY gets it back._)
JUDY. Oh, you bad, bad boy! (_FREDDIE to C._) Well, what shall I draw?
GLADIOLA. Elephant!
LORETTA. Circus!
FREDDIE. Cowboy chasing Indians! (_Gives imitation of a wild Indian._)
JUDY. Oh, something easy. I’ll draw a bad little boy who’s torn his
clothes.
(_Children begin to laugh at FREDDIE and cry “Shame, shame.”_)
FREDDIE. (_Coming down domineeringly_) Cut it out! Cut it out!
JUDY. Freddie! (_FREDDIE turns away shamefacedly_) What’ll I draw?
GLADIOLA. Oh! Draw a trustee!
LORETTA. Yes, draw a trustee!
FREDDIE. Yes, one of those guys that goes around like this. (_Crosses
over L. and gives imitation of WYKOFF_) “This won’t do, Mrs. Lippett!
This won’t do!” (_Comes back to C._) “And this floor must be scrubbed”
... (_Goes to C._) “I tell you it won’t do, Mrs. Lippett” ... (_Comes
down C. and stands puffing himself out á la Wykoff. The children watch
him in ecstasy, laughing and applauding._)
GLADIOLA. Yes—and make him fat. With a gold watch chain!
FREDDIE. And with a pair of searchlights!
JUDY. (_Drawing_) There’s his body. And there’s his head. (_While
drawing the eye-glasses, FREDDIE begins to laugh. JUDY turns to him_)
What are you laughing at?
FREDDIE. Those searchlights.
JUDY. And there’s his searchlights. And those are his arms and those are
his legs.
LORETTA. (C.) And where’s his gold watch chain?
JUDY. And that’s his watch chain! (_Holds the picture front and they all
laugh._)
[Illustration: The children are gathered around the drawing of the
Trustee]
GLADIOLA. (_Takes picture from JUDY_) It looks exactly like a June bug.
JUDY. (_Takes picture back from GLADIOLA, writing at bottom_) “This
looks like a June bug, but is meant to be a portrait of any trustee.”
(_The children laugh. FREDDIE takes the picture and marches around with
it, followed by GLADIOLA and LORETTA._)
CHORUS. Looks like a June bug! Looks like a June bug!
(_They go over L. as SADIE and MAMIE return with a half-emptied plate of
sandwiches which they place on table._)
SADIE KATE. Gee! You ought to see them eat!
(_JUDY goes up to SADIE KATE and MAMIE. The others stop singing and
hungrily look at the sandwiches. FREDDIE puts the picture on table L.
of C. and crosses over to JUDY, followed by LORETTA and GLADIOLA._)
FREDDIE. Can I have a piece of bread?
GLADIOLA. Me, too!
LORETTA. I’m hungry.
JUDY. (_After a moment’s hesitation_) Yes, you may all have one piece.
(_They help themselves joyously. FREDDIE gets first piece and biggest to
the disgust of the others. He goes triumphantly to lower L. and sits
on bench. They keep up a chatter._)
FREDDIE. Say! (_Children all stop noise to listen_) I played a joke on
those trustees! (_Boasting._)
JUDY. (_Coming down R._) Freddie Perkins! (_Suspiciously_) What have you
done?
FREDDIE. I ain’t goin’ to tell.
(_Trustees are heard talking angrily at back off L._)
GLADIOLA. (_Crosses up to door_) Cheese it! They’re coming!
JUDY. (_Surprised_) Scamper out, children!
(_FREDDIE at first sound has bolted L. GLADIOLA and LORETTA in front of
lower table. MAMIE and SADIE KATE between tables R. GLADIOLA, LORETTA
and MAMIE exit lower R. SADIE exits R. 2. E. MRS. LIPPETT enters C.,
followed by a group of trustees and visitors, MISS PRITCHARD looking
worried, WYKOFF indignant, JERVIS amused. JUDY is at table R. of C.
MRS. LIPPETT R. of C. PARSONS L. of C. MISS PRITCHARD and JERVIS stand
at back. They have all been talking outside and it has grown in volume
until they are well on and in place._)
MRS. L. (_With sugar bowl_) Judy Abbott, what is the meaning of this?
JUDY. (_Bewildered R., about middle of table_) The sugar bowl?
(_MISS PRITCHARD crosses at back and down L._)
MRS. L. (_L. end of table_) It’s full of salt! (_JUDY turns and looks
after FREDDIE._)
WYKOFF. We put salt in our tea.
(_JUDY bursts into quick laugh. JERVIS crosses R. and down L. of tables,
back turned to JUDY and amused by the scene._)
MRS. L. When you have finished laughing, perhaps you will tell us how it
came there?
JUDY. I don’t know.
MRS. L. Of course you don’t know. You never know anything.
MISS P. It was a mistake.
WYKOFF. (L. C.) Bad management. Bad management!
JUDY. (_Apologetically_) I didn’t know about it, of course—I’m very
sorry it happened!
(_MRS. LIPPETT sees the empty plate and crumbs on table._)
MRS. L. What’s this? (_They all turn and look_) So, you’ve been stealing
the refreshments that were left?
(_PARSONS goes up C._)
JUDY. The children were hungry—it’s after their regular supper-time—and
I gave them each a piece of bread and butter.
(_PARSONS discovers the broken cup._)
WYKOFF. Mrs. Lippett, does this young woman run this institution?
PARSONS. (_Coming down C. with broken china_) Here! Here! What’s this?
(_JUDY stares in amazement._)
MRS. L. (_Turning upon her sharply_) How did that get broken? (_JUDY is
silent_) Well—don’t stand there staring!
WYKOFF. Another little joke?
MRS. L. Answer me, Judy Abbott. Did you break that cup?
JUDY. (_With dignity_) No, Mrs. Lippett, certainly not!
(_PARSONS puts broken cup on tray at his R._)
MRS. L. Who put it there?
JUDY. I don’t know.
MRS. L. Seems as though you are old enough to take a little
responsibility.
JUDY. (_Miserably_) I try to, Mrs. Lippett—but I can’t be in two places
at once. And to-day while the nurse was taking care of the sick babies⸺
MRS. L. I’ve heard that excuse before. (_Turns to trustees_) You see,
ladies and gentlemen, the kind of stupidity I have to work against. This
is our prize orphan—the one we have educated—but I can’t trust her with
a simple thing like sending in tea.
WYKOFF. (_Turns up L. to table_) Doesn’t pay to educate ’em out of their
class.
MRS. L. These children are the most deceitful creatures I have ever
known. It’s enough to make one lose one’s faith in human nature.
JUDY. (_Facing MRS. L. quietly_) If you would _trust_ the children, they
would not deceive you.
MRS. L. So now, you are going to be impertinent, are you?
(_WYKOFF discovers picture on table L._)
MISS PRITCHARD. (_Pleasantly, tries to end the discussion_) Dishes will
get broken—suppose we join the others.
(_WYKOFF is examining the picture which he has casually picked up._)
WYKOFF. (_Facing front explosively and showing picture_) Good heavens,
Madam! What does this mean? Do I look like a June bug? (_Comes and
exhibits it C. to MRS. L._) And may I ask who is the artist?
(_JUDY stands staring at the others with something of the air of a
hunted animal._)
MRS. L. (_With ominous quietness_) Is that one of your drawings?
(_WYKOFF shows it to trustees at C._)
JUDY. Yes, Mrs. Lippett.
MRS. L. Have you anything to say?
JUDY. (_Miserably_) I can’t draw. I just do it to amuse the children.
WYKOFF. To amuse the children? Madam, is this the kind of respect that
you teach?
(_CODMAN puts picture on table at his L._)
MRS. L. (R.C.) How do you dare make fun of a trustee of the John Grier
Home?
JUDY. (_R., frightened_) I—I didn’t mean to make fun of anybody.
MRS. L. Oh! I suppose you think that is a fitting way to show gratitude
for all that’s been done for you? This Home has given you every mouthful
you ever ate, and as a result, you ridicule your benefactors. I’ll tell
you this, Miss Judy Abbott—you’ll be finishing school next month and
then you’ll be put to work. The kind of place you’ll get will depend on
your record here.
WYKOFF. (C.) And when you have to shift for yourself, young woman—then
maybe you won’t think life so funny.
(_Other Trustees nod approval._)
_READY Dim Foots_
JUDY. (_Wearily_) I don’t think it’s so very funny now.
MRS. L. Oh, there’s no use trying to make anything decent of her. I
shall send you to a boarding house keeper who wants a little slavey to
wash the dishes.
JUDY. I shall be very happy to go. Any place, anywhere will be better
than this.
MRS. L. (_Beside herself_) You ungrateful little—imp! What do you mean?
JUDY. (_Commencing in low, intense tone, gradually rising to a fever of
rebellion_) I mean—I don’t feel any gratitude because I have nothing to
be grateful for. There is no charity about it. I have earned my living
in the John Grier Home. I have worked from the time I was a tiny child.
For three years straight I polished brass door knobs until you
discovered that I was clever enough to do other things. And you haven’t
kept me all this extra time just for my own good. When I was eleven
years old that lady wanted to adopt me. But you made her take another
child instead, because I was useful. I might have had a home, too—like
other children—and you stole it away from me. And you call me ungrateful
because I’m glad to go? I don’t care _how hard_ it will be. I can make
my own way in the world. Just give me a chance. Anywhere—out of the
shadow of this asylum, and I will prove what I am good for. I’ve lived
eighteen years in prison. I _hate_ the John Grier Home! (_As she hurls
this last defiance she turns and runs out R._)
_DIM_
[Illustration: Judy points accusingly at the trustees.]
(_JERVIS has turned his back to the scene and stands down L. with folded
arms and head bowed in deep thought, for JUDY has won his admiration
by her plucky stand. After a pause the trustees recover from their
astonishment._)
MRS. L. You see! You see!
WYKOFF. The quicker you pack her off the better.
MISS P. The child didn’t know what she was saying!
CODMAN. Insubordination!
PARSONS. Bad example.
WYKOFF. Demoralize the whole institution!
PARSONS. She must be punished!
(_They start to go, shaking their heads and talking excitedly at once._)
MRS. L. And punished severely. Oh, if you knew what I have to put up
with⸺
(_They go off C., the excitement and tumult gradually dying down. MISS
PRITCHARD follows them up to C., trying to pacify them. JERVIS eases
over to R. of C._)
MISS P. (_Coming down C._) I am sorry this had to happen before you, but
really, really, we have no right to be angry.
JERVIS. Angry? Oh, no, no! (_Crosses over R. of C._) I was only
hesitating because—well—I must be sure I’m doing the best thing for the
girl. But, by jove! (_Turns to MISS P._) It was great to see that little
thing rise up and demand her right to live. She shall have it! (_Looks
off R. I. E. and then slaps his hand as having arrived at a decision._)
MISS P. (C.) What!
JERVIS. (_Turns to MISS P._) I’ll send her to college!
MISS P. (_Joyfully_) That _is_ generous!
JERVIS. (_Gruffly_) Nonsense! I’m interested. I’d like to see if the
girl really can pull it off!
MISS P. She will be so _grateful_.
JERVIS. (_Crossing L._) No, no. None of that. She’s never to know who
does it.
MISS P. She will want to thank you.
JERVIS. Well, she can’t. I won’t have it. Why! She’s had to give thanks
for every mouthful she ever ate! I wonder she didn’t choke. This college
business comes as a free gift from Heaven.
MISS P. Don’t you want to watch her progress?
_READY Sadie Kate_
JERVIS. From a distance. They can send me her reports.
MISS P. A college doesn’t send reports.
JERVIS. (_Sits. Thinking out loud_) Well, let me see. We’re to make a
writer of the girl? H’m—there’s no better practice in composition than
good, old-fashioned letter writing. She may write me a letter on the
first of every month, telling about her studies and her daily life—just
such a letter as she would write to her parents—if—she had any.
MISS P. She will have to know your name.
JERVIS. Tell her Smith. John Smith. She will address her letters to Mr.
John Smith—in care of my secretary, just as the boys do their reports.
But she’s never to expect any answer. (_Rises_) I can’t have Judy a
nuisance.
MISS P. I will explain the best I can. (_Rises._)
JERVIS. And don’t explain to anyone else. We must keep it a secret
(_Looks off R. I. E._) for the girl’s sake. Let her forget the asylum.
(_Back of MISS P._) Blot the word “orphan” out of her mind. (_Turns
up._)
(_SADIE KATE enters from L.2E. and puts a spoon on lower table._)
MISS P. (_Crosses to R. of JERVIS_) Sadie Kate, run quick and call Judy
Abbott.
(_SADIE exits R., calling “Judy—Judy.”_)
JERVIS. (_Going up C._) And now I must run. I don’t want the child to
see me. Get her some pretty frocks—and all that sort of nonsense.
Good-bye. (_Ad lib._)
_DIM_
MISS P. Good-bye! Thank you! Thank you! (_Follows him up stage and
watches him off as JUDY dejectedly enters at R. She comes to R. C. to
MISS P. MISS P. turns, sees JUDY and goes to her._)
JUDY. (_With dead voice_) Well—what are they going to do with me?
MISS P. (_Very kindly_) Nothing dreadful.
JUDY. (_Sits on bench L._) I didn’t mean to break out that way—but when
you think bitter thoughts for years and years, some day—suddenly—they
just won’t stay inside you any longer. (_Turning away._)
MISS P. Judy—(_Sits by JUDY_)—I have good news for you. (_JUDY faces
front_) Something wonderful is going to happen to you.
JUDY. (_Slowly facing MISS P._) Wonderful?
MISS P. Judy—a gentleman—one of our trustees—is going to send you to
college.
JUDY. (_Rising. MISS P. also_) To college? Me? (_MISS P. nods
affirmatively to her question_) Oh!
MISS P. With pretty new frocks and everything.
JUDY. (_To MISS P._) You mean—I’m going just like any other girl—who has
a real father and mother?
MISS P. Yes, dear.
JUDY. (_Slowly grasping the situation and as though choking over her
joy, crosses over L._) _Oh, oh_, oh! It sounds just like the fairy
stories I make up to tell the children.
MISS P. It’s true, dear.
JUDY. (_Turning to MISS P. breathlessly_) Who is he?
MISS P. No one you know.
_READY Light_
JUDY. He wasn’t here? To-day? Not one of those men?
_WARN CURTAIN_
MISS P. Yes.
JUDY. I didn’t look at them. What’s he like? What’s his name?
MISS P. You are not to know his name—his real name. You may call him Mr.
Smith.
JUDY. Smith?
MISS P. Mr. John Smith. He will be your guardian.
JUDY. My guardian! I’ll belong to him? And I won’t belong to the asylum
any more? I’ll belong just to him?
MISS P. Yes, dear!
JUDY. (_Turns—crying_) Oh, I’m so happy! I’m so happy! (_Turns to MISS
P._) Where is he? I want to tell him. I want to see him.
MISS P. You cannot see him, dear.
JUDY. But I want to know what he’s like. I’ll never bother him—never—if
I may see him just once. So I can think about him. Oh, please, please,
just this once? Please, please! (_Sobbing, she places her head on MISS
P.’S shoulder, who lays her arms around JUDY tenderly and mothers her. A
spotlight off L., swinging around on a pivot, throws a light through
upper window around the room, indicating the approach of an
automobile._)
MISS P. Hush, dear. I promised to keep it a secret. (_JUDY sobs again_)
But, he’s there—outside now! (_Horn_) Waiting for his car. (_JUDY turns
quickly, but MISS P. holds her at arm’s length_) No, no, dear—it’s too
dark to see his face, but there, reflected on the wall, you can see his
shadow! (_She releases JUDY, who crosses to table, looking off through
window L._)
JUDY. Oh, if I could only see his face. At last I have the shadow of a
father. Oh, my daddy—my daddy⸺ (_Laughing_) Look—what funny long legs
the shadow has. I never saw such long legs. I know⸺ (_Turning to MISS
P._) I’ll call him my dear, old Daddy Long-Legs.
CURTAIN
1st Curtain—Grown-ups and Judy—not Jervis.
2nd Curtain—All children. Jervis.
3rd Curtain—All children.
4th Curtain—Judy.