BIRD-IN-HAND. (_With a slow, meditative, rather plaintive
introduction_) Chwee-e-weet!
PROFESSOR. But, but this is an hallucination!
BIRD-IN-HAND. Chich-a-wee!
PROFESSOR. An hallucination, I say!
BIRD-IN-HAND. Chich-a-wee!
PROFESSOR. (_Trying to reject the evidence of his senses_) No, no,
no!--I must be ill!--Over-work!
BIRD-IN-HAND. Chip-chip-chip-chip-chewee-e-e!
PROFESSOR. What--Am I going out of my senses? (HE _makes a dive for the
telephone_) Station 1228, please--yes! 1 double 2, 8!
BIRD-IN-HAND. Two-eight! Two-eight!--Eight! eight! eight! eight! eight!
eight!
(_The note is still slow and plaintive, but the_ PROFESSOR
_gets more and more frightened._)
PROFESSOR. I can’t bear this; I can’t bear it!--My nerves won’t stand
it!----
BIRD-IN-HAND. Chip it!--Chip it!
(_The ’phone calls him._)
PROFESSOR. Is Doctor Locum--? Oh, Doctor, is that you?--Will you,
please, come and see me at once?--Braintree--Professor Braintree.
Yes--most urgent--I’m afraid I’ve, I’ve--broken down.
BIRD-IN-HAND. What? What? What? What? What?
PROFESSOR. No, no, a blood-vessel!--But do come immediately!--_Yes._
Don’t lose a moment, I beg--Good-bye----
BIRD-IN-HAND. Sh-sh-sh-wee! Sh-sh--sh-wee!--Oh, why?--Oh, why?--Oh,
why?--Spit-it-out! Spit-it-out!
(_The_ PROFESSOR _with a gorgonized stare has been trying to
rule the thing out; now by a firm effort of will he seeks to
dismiss it from his mind._)
PROFESSOR. No, no, it’s not there! I don’t see it, I don’t see it, I
don’t see it. I----
(_But he does see it; that’s the trouble. It advances its head
slowly towards him, then draws it back again, and with a more
cheerful note than before, as if to encourage him, remarks_:)
BIRD-IN-HAND. Che-wit!
(_At this the_ PROFESSOR _shuts his eyes, and continues to
exercise his will-power, under conditions which make the
assertion more tenable._)
PROFESSOR. I don’t see it and I won’t see it! I won’t see it!--I--I
dismiss it entirely from my mind. It isn’t there! (_While he is thus
tackling the problem the creature shifts its position, and now standing
at his back, views him from a fresh standpoint with the same blank
stare of a curiosity that comprehends nothing. The_ PROFESSOR _opens
his eyes again. Will-power has apparently prevailed. He no longer sees
the object of his aversion_) That’s better! (_He begins cautiously to
turn his head first to right then to left. It gives him a great start
to find the green horned creature close behind him. This is too much
like having a caterpillar down his back for equanimity. Irrepressibly
he jumps up_)
PROFESSOR. Get out!
BIRD-IN-HAND. Che-wee--che-wee--chewee--chewee--chewee! (_The creature
flies off crying like a startled black-bird. The_ PROFESSOR, _seeing
that it responds to voice and gesture, tries driving it_)
PROFESSOR. Shoo! Shoo, get out with you! Scat! But no, no, I mustn’t do
that! If I do that, I shall end by making myself think it exists. No, I
must endeavor to dismiss it from my mind. There! There! Now it’s gone.
(_Leaning his head on his hand, he sits with munching mouth,
wriggling nervously in his seat. Meantime the creature, sliding
alongside the table, and touching things tentatively with its
claw-like fingers, lights on the typewriter. As the click of
the instrument catches its fancy, it makes a scrambling attack
upon the keys with accompanying noise curiously resembling the
well-known saw_: “PETER PIPER _picked a peck of pickled pepper
corns_.” _That, however, is merely coincidence--the sounds it
emits being merely a running commentary on the letter P._)
BIRD-IN-HAND.
Peet-a-pipe!--Pick-a-peck--Pick-a-peppa-kum!--E-peet-a-pipe--a
pick-a-pick--a-pick-a-pepp a-kum. Wees-a-peck, a pick-a-peppa-kum.
Peet-a-pipe-a-pick!
(_At this outburst of oratory the_ PROFESSOR, _after sitting
spellbound for a moment, makes a vicious flick with his
handkerchief, and the green imp ducks and disappears._)
PROFESSOR. Well--I--hope I’m better! (_This hope is almost at once put
to rout. The_ PROFESSOR _apprehensively snatches back his feet from the
knee-hole of the writing-table, and his brain is once more seized by
panic_) Oh! I felt it! I felt it--I’m out of _all_ my senses now!--If
this keeps on much longer, I shall go stark staring mad!
(_But now the creature’s interest is diverted elsewhere. Rising
and pirouetting across the room, it comes suddenly upon the
case of stuffed birds, and stands transfixed with astonishment.
These frozen bits of bird-life seem to baffle its wits. It taps
the glass-case, and after a close scrutiny tries with sounds
and a flapping motion of the hands to coax the occupants back
to life._)
BIRD-IN-HAND. Chich-a-wee! Chich-a-wee!--Tweet, tweet! Wee-wee-wee!
Chick-a-wake!--Oh, why?--Tickle ’em up! Too-to-weet! Too-to-weet!--Eat,
eat, eat, eat, eat, eat! Quick, quick! Josophat! Josophat!
Whit-a-woo?--Drink-and-eat! Tr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!
PROFESSOR. Oh! But this is horrible!--It’s true! It _really exists_!
(_He sits petrified_)
BIRD-IN-HAND. Tr-r-r-r-r-r-r-r!
PROFESSOR. And _I_ don’t!--I _don’t_!--I _don’t_!
BIRD-IN-HAND. Cheer-up! Cheer-up! Cheer-up!--Oh, why? (_Petrifaction
gives way to fury_)
PROFESSOR. Stop it! Stop it, I say! (_He picks up a pamphlet and throws
it with random aim, this hit-or-miss has little effect. A deep sadness
at its failure to rouse the birds has taken the tree imp. Crying in a
low plaintive note it turns towards him_)
BIRD-IN-HAND. Wee-wee! wee-wee-wee!
(_It advances slowly towards him. The_ PROFESSOR _makes a grab
at the speaking-tube, and blows, then speaks down it_.)
PROFESSOR. Miss Tuckey, are you there! Miss Tuckey!
BIRD-IN-HAND. (_Halting for a moment_) Tuckey, tuckey,
tuckey--Tuck!--tuck!--tuck!
PROFESSOR. Would you come up, please, for one moment!
BIRD-IN-HAND. (_Secretively_) Sh--sh--wee! (_As if on a tour of
exploration, it disappears behind the screen at his back_)
PROFESSOR. Now I shall know whether I am mad or not. Yes, I shall
know!--(_Enter_ MISS TUCKEY. _The_ PROFESSOR _faces her in some
confusion. The relief of her presence lets him down and it is hard for
him to collect his wits_) I--I--I want you to see that those proofs go,
Miss Tuckey--by the first post.
MISS TUCKEY. Yes, sir--(_She looks a little surprised and nonplussed_)
Did you want anything else, sir?
PROFESSOR. Oh, well, and if you would kindly rearrange that screen? I
still feel rather a draught.
(MISS TUCKEY _goes and readjusts the screen. It is evident
that, as she goes behind it, no apparition confronts her; she
emerges as machine-like as ever, calm and collected._)
MISS TUCKEY. Will that be as you wish?
PROFESSOR. Thank you.
MISS TUCKEY. Is that all, sir?
PROFESSOR. Yes, that is all. (_He looks cautiously round, and as she
goes out gets up and looks behind the screen himself. Nothing is
there_) But this is horrible! I saw it! Oh! if I didn’t see it, I’m
going mad!
(_Almost immediately in another part of the room the apparition
re-appears._)
BIRD-IN-HAND. Peweet, peweet! Chus-luk-a-mee! Chus-luk-a-mee!
(_With this, the spring cry of the peewit, sounding so much
like “Just look at me!” it displays a hitherto unsuspected
power of levitation in a series of surprising bounds into air,
as though its feet went up from spring-boards._)
PROFESSOR. Ah! Now then! Now!
(_From a corner rack behind him the_ PROFESSOR _snatches a
large green butterfly net, and for a few moments you have the
degrading spectacle of an eminent scientist, pursuing on the
material plane something which he does not really believe to
exist. But the pursuit soon ends. The imp is too agile, the
pace is too killing, and the_ PROFESSOR _in his stumbling
course has knocked over a number of things that he did not
intend to. Exhausted, he sits down again to breathe. Once
more the creature has disappeared. Thus momentarily relieved,
he perceives the disarray into which the chamber has been
thrown, and proceeds to pick things up. Apparently from its
place of concealment the creature is watching him, for almost
immediately he hears its voice._)
BIRD-IN-HAND. Pick-it-up! Pick-it-up!
(_To be thus ordered about by an apparition is trying to the_
PROFESSOR’S _temper. He slaps down his gleanings on the table,
and makes a second grab for the butterfly net._)
PROFESSOR. No--no, I mustn’t do that: it’s no good. I must think!
BIRD-IN-HAND. Think--think--think--think--think!