MRS. QUINN--I don't see what way ye'll pay for shoe leather, if ye don't
get some money soon.
QUINN--We'll live. The Union won't see us go under for the lack of a
dollar or two.
MRS. QUINN--I don't like livin' on the Union.
QUINN--We ain't beggars yet.
MRS. QUINN--We're not far from it, Gawd knows.
(_Picks up paper, and again reads. A pause._)
QUINN--(_Irritably._) Can't ye stop rattlin' that paper?
(_Mrs. Quinn glances at him casually, and calmly proceeds with her
reading. It is the sort of calm that arouses temper in a jumpy person._)
QUINN--(_Springing up._) Stop that infernal noise! Seems like a man
might have peace in his own house. Here I am walkin' the streets all
day, with me legs and head that tired I'm ready to drop, and when I get
home at night, a clatter that would wake the dead, in me ears.
MRS. QUINN--Yer blood may be Irish, John Quinn, but yer nerves are
American.... I never saw such a changed man in me life. It's bad enough
to have ye walk out on strike--
QUINN--Now see here, I didn't walk out on strike, and ye know it. I'd be
workin' yet if the Union hadn't told us to lay off until we got our
rights.
MRS. QUINN--Ye'll rot before ye get yer rights, I'm thinkin'.
QUINN--Maybe, maybe so.
(_Silence again._)
MRS. QUINN--(_Putting down paper._) I see the walking delegate discussed
the strike at an elegant banquet at the Hotel Hoffman last night. Ye
know, _he_ don't seem to suffer no privation. Mrs. Martin says he gets a
princely wage for orderin' strikes all over the country. No wonder he's
in earnest about his job.
QUINN--Some one has to lead the men.
MRS. QUINN--I fancy he wouldn't lead far, if his wage stopped.
QUINN--(_Shortly._) Aw, don't be a fool.
(_Silence again. Quinn moves uneasily in his chair._)
MRS. QUINN--What's on yer mind? Can't ye sit still?
QUINN--What should be on me mind?
MRS. QUINN--I haven't lived with ye five and twenty years without
knowin' when ye've done somethin' ye're ashamed of.
QUINN--I've done nothin' I'm ashamed of.
MRS. QUINN--Out with it.
QUINN--(_After a slight hesitation._) I walked down town to-night to see
the sights. Bill Martin went with me.
MRS. QUINN--(_Content to get her knowledge by Quinn's roundabout way of
telling it._) Were the streets crowded?
QUINN--Nothin' like they are up here.... D'ye know they have the State
Constabulary on the Avenue now?
MRS. QUINN--I saw them this mornin'. Big hulkin' brutes they are,
chargin' into groups of women and children like as if they were
offenders agin the law.
QUINN--It's makin' the men see red.
MRS. QUINN--If the men are wise, they'll give them a wide berth, and not
start any ructions, or they'll get smashed heads for their pains.
QUINN--Well, we can smash heads, too.
MRS. QUINN--And be put in the lock-up for it.
QUINN--Am I in the lock-up?
MRS. QUINN--(_Quickly._) Whose head have _you_ smashed John?
QUINN--To-night while we stood at the corner of Fourth and Marion, a
trolley came along with passengers in it, a woman and two men.
MRS. QUINN--John, ye didn't--
QUINN--The dirty scab who ran the car must have come from New York with
that last bunch of strike breakers.
MRS. QUINN--What did ye do?
QUINN--(_Defiantly._) I picked up a brick, and let it fly through the
window. Maybe the company can starve us, but we'll teach the public it's
a damned unsafe thing to ride in the cars, while we're bein' starved.
MRS. QUINN--Did ye do any hurt?
QUINN--Well, I guess I damaged the woman's arm, if ye want to know. She
let out a yell ye could hear a mile, and flopped over. Then I took to me
heels.
MRS. QUINN--(_In a rage._) Ye fool, have ye quite quit yer senses? Ye'll
be caught and locked up fer this.
QUINN--(_Glad that he has gotten the story out._) Not much.
MRS. QUINN--Yer temper'll do fer ye, one of these days, me man. I
suppose that's what ye call seem' red? Seein' red! Gawd'll get ye by the
scruff of the neck when yer not lookin', and shake the ugly devil of a
temper out of ye. Ye'll face the consequence for it, sooner or later.
QUINN--Aw, stop yer blather, and get me a cup of tea.
MRS. QUINN--Tea! I'm tempted to put a pink bean in it, and make ye
croak before the gallows gets ye, ye ruffian.
(_There is a knock at the front door. Mrs. Quinn exits R. and returns
with the Martins._)
QUINN--Hello Martin, what's up now?
MARTIN--Have ye seen the papers?
QUINN--No.
MARTIN--It's in them already.
QUINN--What's in them?
MARTIN--Listen, (_reads_) "Just at dusk this evening a mob of strikers
attacked a west bound car at Fourth and Marion Streets, and did
considerable damage to the car and occupants. The only woman passenger
was seriously injured in the right hand and arm, and was taken to the
Lester Hospital, where"--
QUINN--(_Interrupting._) Do they know who done it?
MARTIN--(_Reads._) "No clue to the man has been found, but Chief of
Police"--
QUINN--(_Shortly._) Aw, cut it, Martin. They'll never find the man who
did it, unless your tongue wags. I'd like to break the arms of ev'ry one
who runs or rides in the cars till we win our fight.
MARTIN--(_Somberly._) Maybe the only way _is_ to do a little damage,
break a few bones, show them we've got some spunk ... and yet it is
written if a man smite thee on the right cheek--
Mrs. QUINN--I thought the plan this time was to keep the confidence of
the people?
QUINN--We've tried that for seven weeks, and it's taken us nowheres.
MRS. MARTIN--We've tried most everything I guess, but prayer. Maybe we'd
do more if we prayed over it.
QUINN--(_Slowly._) Do ye say pray over it?
MARTIN--(_Diffidently._) If we could all get together on it. I know it's
hard to talk religion to the boys, they all think different about it. It
takes some courage for a man to come out and say he's a Christian, but
I'm willing to do it. Think--if all the men and women and children would
pray for a settlement, it would have some weight with the Lord.
MRS. MARTIN--(_Eagerly._) He'd give an answer, I know. I heard a
minister say once, if we'd ask for _anything_ with all our hearts and
souls the Lord wouldn't deny us.
MRS. QUINN--What a mix-up we'd have then!
QUINN--Well, I've not much use for prayers when there's a fight on--but
if ye--
MRS. QUINN--Ye know, I had a mad sort of a dream tother night.
QUINN--(_Impatiently._) Whist woman, with yer dreams!
MRS. QUINN--(_Undeterred._) I dreamed I was after havin' a nice easy
talk with Gawd, and he sez to me, "Mary Ann Quinn, I want ye to sit up
here with me in Heaven on me right hand side. For sure," sez he,
pleasant like, "_you've_ never pestered me with requests since ye've
been a woman grown." "Well Gawd," sez I, "I've been that mortal busy
tendin' to the bodily comforts of me man John, and me daughter Molly,
that I've had me mind fair occupied, and I apologize for not comin' to
ye oftener." "Oh, Mary Ann," sez he, "can't ye see I like it? I'm fair
sick of havin' to stand sponsor for all the mistakes of me numberless
Christian children. They go along in their headstrong ways doin' the
things they _want_ to do, right or wrong, and when they run amuck, they
up and come to _me_ with prayers and supplications, cryin' and pleadin'
for help, when a slight use of their own wits and decency and common
sense would have kept them from difficulties in the first place."
"Oh, Gawd," begins I, but he smiles at me and sez he, "get up wid ye on
me right hand side, and keep that grin on yer face Mary Ann Quinn, while
I tend to me regular customers."
QUINN--(_Shocked._) I can't help ye bein' heathenish in yer views, but
I'll not have ye outspoken voicin' them.
MARTIN--(_Puzzled._) It was a very odd dream to have.
MRS. MARTIN--It certainly was.
MRS. QUINN--The meanin' of it's mortal clear, I'm thinkin'. But, that's
not gettin' the tea, is it?
(_Exit to kitchen L._)
QUINN--Martin, I don't know about yer prayers, but fer meself I'm in
this fight till the finish, and man nor devil'll make me yield an inch.
MARTIN--Then I'm with you, Quinn. (_To Mrs. Martin, who goes to him
protestingly._) No, Bessie, its no use. We can _pray_ after we've won.
(_Molly enters door R. She is in hat and coat, and carries a muff._)
MRS. MARTIN--Molly!
(_Molly does not answer, but stands and looks at Quinn._)
MARTIN--(_Taking Mrs Martin by the arm, and going to door R._) I guess
you'd rather be alone with her.
(_Exeunt Martins door R._)
MOLLY--Father.
(_Quinn rises and looks at her, but does not speak._)
MOLLY--Father.
QUINN--(_Slowly._) Two years ago when you married that damned fiddler, I
told ye never to come here again.
MOLLY--Father.
QUINN--(_Sternly._) I meant it then, and I mean it now. Get out!
MOLLY--Won't you let me speak to you?
QUINN--There's nothin' you can say to me, I gave you yer choice of us
long ago, and ye stuck to him. Stick to him now, I don't want ye.
MRS. QUINN--(_Enters door L with tea things._) Molly, my dear little
Molly.
MOLLY--Mother!
MRS. QUINN--(_Ignoring Quinn._) Sit down now, and I'll give ye a dish of
tea.
QUINN--She'll not sit down in this house.
MRS. QUINN--(_Easily, tho her heart is beating rapidly._) Will she not?
Here, take off yer hat and coat, and drink this while it's hot. I'll
bring another cup for yer father.
(_Exit to kitchen. Molly remains standing, and faces her father. She
makes no attempt to remove her wraps._)
MOLLY--Won't you let me come back to you and mother? Won't you forgive
me?
QUINN--(_Slowly._) Why are ye so eager to be back?
MOLLY--I need you and mother, now I'm alone.
QUINN--(_Quickly._) Alone? He's left ye, has he?
(_Molly unable to answer for her tears, nods head._)
QUINN--The things I told you about him were true then? He was no fit man
to marry a decent girl!
MOLLY--Father, father, don't say that!
(_Mrs. Quinn enters._)
QUINN--(_Working himself into a rage._) The fine gentleman has left
Molly. All his grand love makin' to end in two years, tho Gawd knows I
didn't expect it to last that long. (_To Molly._) Why hadn't ye sense
enough not to be gulled by him? Didn't I tell ye, he was a rogue and a
scoundrel? Chucked aside for another woman, I suppose ye were! Left ye,
left ye--
MRS. QUINN--Ye blunderin' idiot, last Tuesday the boy died.
QUINN--(_Helplessly._) Died? I--I thought--(_to Molly._) Sit down--drink
the tea.... Is--is there an egg for her?
MRS. QUINN--There's no eggs here. The hens went on strike with the
trolley men. Let me help you off with yer coat, Molly. What have ye done
to yer arm? What's that bandage on yer arm for?
MOLLY--You remember, I told you in my last letter, mother--
QUINN--(_Sourly._) So ye've been writin', hev ye?
MRS. QUINN--D'ye think a mother will let her only child slip easily out
of her heart and life?
MOLLY--(_Pleading._) Mother, father!
QUINN--(_With poor grace._) Aw, well, let it go.
MOLLY--(_Sitting at back of table, Quinn and Mrs. Quinn at either
side._) When I settled up everything, after--after his death, I planned
to go back to my old job. I went to the office and saw Mr. Bowen, and he
said the place was still open for me.
MRS. QUINN--(_Admiringly._) I don't wonder he's glad to get ye back.
There ain't many stenographers clever as you are Molly.
QUINN--Be quiet mother, and let the girl talk.
MOLLY--I knew if I could work, and bring good wages into the house,
father could afford to stay out on strike until the men had won.
QUINN--Molly!
MOLLY--I _did_ plan for that father, I did plan for that, and now--
MRS. QUINN--Well, go on, go on.
MOLLY--To-night at the Lester Hospital when they fixed my arm, the
doctor said I couldn't use it before a month.
MRS. QUINN--What happened to it? How did ye hurt it?
MOLLY--I did the wrong thing, and I guess I deserve what I got, but I
was dog tired and the walk here is endless. I took a car at the ferry,
everything went all right till we got to Fourth and Marion Streets--
QUINN--(_Startled._) Fourth and Marion!
MOLLY--There was a crowd of strikers there, and one of them threw a
brick into the car, and it struck my arm at the elbow. Crushed it pretty
badly, I guess.
QUINN--My Gawd!
MOLLY--(_Misunderstanding his emotion._) I'm not going to live on you,
father. I know you and mother are hard enough pushed as it is.
MRS. QUINN--What's ours is yours now. Ye'll stay here with us.
QUINN--(_Dazed._) I wonder can I get a job at Newton's? They needed men
last week.
MOLLY--Father, he ... left insurance, and we can use that until you
start again, or until I'm able to go back to the office.
QUINN--The strike's a mistake, I'm thinkin'. I'll go to the barn
to-morrow and take me car out, if the boys kill me for it.
MRS. QUINN--(_Quickly, and unconsciously imitating Mrs. Martin's
imitation of the walking delegate._) Ye'll do no such thing. The
strike's on till it's settled. Yer fightin' fer a principle, and ye'll
not give in till ye win. This is not a war for us only, but for our
children. _They'll_ be saved a fight fer their rights if we conquer now.
We'll go at the company in the way that that walking delegate says. (_As
she becomes conscious she is quoting the quoted delegate._) The walking
delegate? Well, he's alright, we'll do things his way, and we'll win.
MOLLY--Of course we'll win. Public sympathy is with the men this time.
QUINN--Well, it won't be fer long, if the men see red, and go about
bustin' up perfectly good arms of innocent bystanders. Me mind's made
up, violence must stop.
MRS. QUINN--And mine's made up too, the strike must be won.
(_Quinn goes to wail rack, and takes down hat and coat._)
What are ye doin' with yer coat?
QUINN--I'll go and have a talk with the boys. I've some power with them.
Violence must stop. I'll try to make them listen to reason, and if they
won't, I guess I'm good for a job at Newton's.
(_As he leaves room he is heard muttering._) Violence must stop!
MOLLY--I never knew father so set against a fight. What's he want to
work in a coal yard for?
MRS. QUINN--Never fear, he won't work in a coal yard. Ye see Molly he's
awful mad at the man who smashed yer arm. It makes him wild to think a
fellow is free to go about harmin' innocent people, just because he
thinks he sees red.
MOLLY--I hope he never finds the man.
MRS. QUINN--D'ye know, I think he has a hunch who did it. Oh, he won't
hurt him! Father's been gettin' close to some hard home facts this day,
and a good walk in the fresh night air will help him to digest them.
(_As curtain descends._) I'm so sorry about yer poor arm. Tell me, does
it hurt you much?--etc.
_CURTAIN_
MURDERING SELINA
CAST
KING, _Editor of the Gazette_.
BART, _A Reporter_.
AN OFFICER.
A BOY.
A GENTLEMAN.
SELINA.
MISS BROWN.
TIME--_The Present._
PLACE--_A Little Cafe in the Park, Managed by Miss Brown._
Murdering Selina
_Scene--Interior of a frame restaurant in the park. At the left side,
running almost the entire width of the room, is the counter at which one
may buy soft-drinks, peanuts, pop-corn, newspapers, etc. A talking
machine and telephone are on counter. Against the wall, at centre back,
is a screen, behind it is a door to another room. At the right side,
back, a table and couple of chairs. Small table and two chairs near
front of stage, left. When curtain rises, Miss Brown and The Boy are
discovered. Miss Brown is a red haired, good-hearted, sharp tongued old
maid of uncertain years; positive in her opinions, quick in bodily
action--giving one the impression of great nervous energy. The Boy is
the typical roguish, rather fresh, "newsy" of fifteen, or thereabout._
_A fox trot is being played on the victrola, and The Boy is teaching the
steps to Miss Brown, whom he is pulling around with spirited
good-nature._
BOY--(_In time with music._) _Slow, slow, slow, slow, now fast, fast,
fast, fast, fast, fastie, fastie, fast._
MISS BROWN--Oh, wait until I get me breath.
BOY--You gotta dance without it, see?
MISS BROWN--How can I dance with me wind all gone? Let go of me while I
rest.
BOY--Aw, come on, and be a sport. All the girls is doin' the fox trot.
MISS BROWN--(_Pathetically._) My heavens, I ain't no girl.
BOY--Yer learnin' it fine. I bet if ye had a couple lessons ye'd put it
all over that bunch at the pavilion.
MISS BROWN--(_Trying to stop._) Let go of me, will you?
BOY--_Slow, slow, slow_,--
MISS BROWN--Ye young snipe, can't ye see I'm ready to drop?
BOY--Aw, stop coddlin' yerself! Yer good for a mile yet.
MISS BROWN--(_Pulling herself free._) You run and get the papers. It's
almost dark, and there ain't one here yet.
BOY--(_At victrola._) Well, I'm goin,' ain't I?
MISS BROWN--(_Out of breath._) Quit foolin' with that machine, and go
get yer papers.
BOY--I won't be three minutes, and then we can try it again.
MISS BROWN--I think I've had enough. It ain't no game for an old hen.
(_Boy puts on sweater and cap._)
MISS BROWN--Is it four slow, and four fast?
BOY--No, that ain't right. Four slow, eight fast, then two turnin'
steps. See? (_Shows steps, then exits._)
MISS BROWN--(_Meditatively._) If I get goin' I suppose I'll be dotty,
like the rest. This dance craze is certainly worse than hittin' up the
booze. They say that Lizzie Smith, the hussy, roped that poor misguided
Jones boy into marrying her with her dancing, though heaven knows I
never saw nothin' in her grace or beauty. Oh, for ten years of my
misspent youth. If I'd only learned the blamed thing before I lost my
figure! (_Puts record on machine, and dances hesitatingly, counting
"one, two, three, four," etc. Bart, much dishevelled rushes into room.
He is well dressed, but mussy looking, as if he had slept on a park
bench for a night or two, and had not had recent acquaintance with hair
or clothes brush. He bumps against the peanuts on the edge of the
counter, and scatters them all over the floor._)
MISS BROWN--Can't ye see where yer goin'?
BART--(_Fumbling in pocket._) Here. Sorry.
MISS BROWN--A dollar! Ye never can tell a millionaire by looks these
days.
BART--(_Sinking into chair._) Am I doomed to blight everything I touch?
MISS BROWN--Are ye sick, mister? Can I help ye?
BART--Get out, get out, let me alone, and stop that machine!
MISS BROWN--(_Commiseratingly._) Poor fellow! (_Stops machine._) He's
got the Willies.
BART--Don't talk to me, for Heaven's sake; I can't stand it!
MISS BROWN--(_Sarcastically._) Oh, I was just communin' with me other
nuts.
(_She stoops to gather up the peanuts, but catches a glimpse of Bart's
side face, and sits on floor, looking at him intently._)
To think of that profile bein' wasted on a man! It's terrible the way
good looks is chucked around where they ain't needed!
(_Boy enters with an armful of newspapers. King is close behind him.
Bart rushes to King, knocking against the Boy as he does so, and sending
the papers flying._)
BOY--Ye big stiff, what ye doin'?
BART--King, I thought you'd never come!
BOY--Look at me papers, will ye?
BART--(_Impatiently._) Oh, shut up!
(_Boy, grumbling and muttering to himself, helps Miss Brown pick up the
peanuts and papers._)
KING--(_With great displeasure._) This is a nice out of the way place to
bring a man to. What's wrong with you anyway? Drunk?
BART--(_Grimly._) I haven't been sober for three days.
KING--Don't boast about it.
BART--Boast, good heavens!
KING--What do you think a newspaper is, a day nursery? Here's Billy
Sunday in town, the war, the Mexican situation, everything at boiling
point; the Gazette short of men, and you off on a three days' jag! I've
a good mind to fire you.
BART--(_Miserably._) I'm up against it, King, don't rub it in. I don't
know which way to turn.
BOY--(_To Miss Brown, as they seat themselves behind counter._) I wish
those ginks would clear out, so we could trot again.
MISS BROWN--They'll beat it to a free lunch counter soon.
(_She gets the Boy to hold a skein of worsted, which she unwinds and
rolls into a ball. During the conversation between Bart and King, Miss
Brown and the Boy now and then glance at them with a show of irritation,
Miss Brown because they are not buying any of her wares, and also
because she cannot hear enough of their talk to make sense of it._)
KING--What have you done, a second story job?
BART--(_With much humility, and some pride._) I've broken a girl's
heart.
KING--(_Utterly disgusted._) Oh, hell!
BART--I tell you, I've broken a girl's heart, and ruined her life.
KING--Rubbish! Sober up, and go back to work.
BART--I can't. She has threatened to do something desperate. There will
be a scandal.
KING--Forget it!
BART--I wish I could, but suppose she shoots herself, or takes poison?
KING--That sounds pleasant.
BART--I didn't know she loved me, I protest I didn't.
KING--Cut out the heroics.
BART--She's mad about me, and I didn't understand till too late.
KING--(_Firmly._) Too late! You scuttle back to town, get a license, and
marry her.
BART--I came to the city to earn money to marry a girl back home, and
I'll marry her, or no one.
KING--Winning a girl's love, and throwing her over, is cheap sport. I'm
disappointed in you, Bart. I didn't know you were that kind of a chap.
BART--I'm not that kind. It's all a horrible mistake. She misunderstood
my--my attentions. I was just nice and friendly to her, and she, well
she--
KING--That's right, put the blame on her.
BART--(_Hotly._) Well, I'm not going to blame myself. If women see fit
to fall in love with me, it's not my fault.
KING--You conceited pup!
BART--I don't care. I've suffered enough these last three days, and I've
just about gone to pieces. It's not my fault, I don't care what you say,
it's not my fault.
KING--Every cad says it's not his fault.
MISS BROWN--(_To Boy._) What in the name of common sense are they
gassin' about?
BOY--Aw, they're holdin' hands, I guess.
BART--(_To King._) I asked you here for advice, not abuse.
KING--(_Shortly._) You have my advice, marry her.
BART--And I tell you I won't. I don't love her, and I do love Lucy.
KING--Lucy. The girl up home, I suppose?
BART--Yes.
KING--What will she think of this mess?
BART--She need never know that Selina existed.
KING--(_Starting._) Selina!
BART--That's her name.
KING--Selina, what a coincidence!
BART--I thought you'd understand, and help me out.
KING--Tell me, I'll try to understand.
MISS BROWN--(_To Boy._) My Gawd, ain't they never goin'?
BOY--Talk about yer cheap skates!
BART--(_To King._) I've been kind of lonely down here in the city, and
she was a regular oasis in the desert. I took her to a good many first
nights, and the opera pretty nearly every week, and she--
KING--(_Gently ironical._) Gazette passes, I presume?
BART--You don't think I could pay for them out of my salary, do you?
I've not had a cent from father since I left home.... She always gets
herself up well, and wears good-looking clothes, and I felt proud to
take her around. Besides, she's older than I am, and I thought I was
safe.
KING--I had no idea you were so irresistible.
MISS BROWN--(_To Boy._) It's time to give them the acid test. (_She
turns a sign advertising Coca Cola, with its face to the wall. On the
back is printed in large letters, "This ain't no free rest room. Buy
something, or get out." King turns around, glances at the sign casually,
then gives his attention to Bart._)
BOY--Hully gee! The big boob can't read!
MISS BROWN--What's a poor girl to do now?
BART--(_To King._) Why, I never even kissed her, although once or twice,
I think she wanted me to.
KING--With such a platonic background, how did you manage to break her
heart?
BART--That's the queer part. Tuesday night after Tosca, we had a little
supper at her apartments. We were talking about friendship, and I told
her what a bully little pal she had been, and how I'd miss our good
times when I went home and married Lucy.
KING--You mentioned Lucy?
BART--Why shouldn't I?
KING--_I_ should call it a strategic error.
BART--I suppose it was a mistake.
KING--It's rank idiocy, my boy, to tell one woman you love another.
BART--It seemed to break her all up. She declared I'd led her to believe
I was going to marry _her_, that she had given her heart unreservedly to
me--
KING--(_Quickly._) She had "given her heart unreservedly to you?" Did
she use those words?
BART--I'm not apt to forget them, especially as she repeated everything
half a dozen times. She made me feel as if I'd deserted her at the
altar. I tell you, I never went through such an awful hour in my life.
KING--Didn't you explain to her?