A second-class compartment of a corridor carriage, in motion.
In it are seated the ENGLISHMAN and his WIFE, opposite each
other at the corridor end, she with her face to the engine, he
with his back. Both are somewhat protected from the rest of the
travellers by newspapers. Next to her sits the GERMAN, and
opposite him sits the AMERICAN; next the AMERICAN in one window
corner is seated the DUTCH YOUTH; the other window corner is
taken by the GERMAN'S bag. The silence is only broken by the
slight rushing noise of the train's progression and the
crackling of the English newspapers.
AMERICAN. [Turning to the DUTCH YOUTH] Guess I'd like that window
raised; it's kind of chilly after that old run they gave us.
[The DUTCH YOUTH laughs, and goes through the motions of raising
the window. The ENGLISH regard the operation with uneasy
irritation. The GERMAN opens his bag, which reposes on the
corner seat next him, and takes out a book.]
AMERICAN. The Germans are great readers. Very stimulating practice.
I read most anything myself!
[The GERMAN holds up the book so that the title may be read.]
"Don Quixote"--fine book. We Americans take considerable stock in
old man Quixote. Bit of a wild-cat--but we don't laugh at him.
GERMAN. He is dead. Dead as a sheep. A good thing, too.
AMERICAN. In America we have still quite an amount of chivalry.
GERMAN. Chivalry is nothing 'sentimentalisch'. In modern days--no
good. A man must push, he must pull.
AMERICAN. So you say. But I judge your form of chivalry is
sacrifice to the state. We allow more freedom to the individual
soul. Where there's something little and weak, we feel it kind of
noble to give up to it. That way we feel elevated.
[As he speaks there is seen in the corridor doorway the LITTLE
MAN, with the WOMAN'S BABY still on his arm and the bundle held
in the other hand. He peers in anxiously. The ENGLISH, acutely
conscious, try to dissociate themselves from his presence with
their papers. The DUTCH YOUTH laughs.]
GERMAN. 'Ach'! So!
AMERICAN. Dear me!
LITTLE MAN. Is there room? I can't find a seat.
AMERICAN. Why, yes! There's a seat for one.
LITTLE MAN. [Depositing bundle outside, and heaving BABY] May I?
AMERICAN. Come right in!
[The GERMAN sulkily moves his bag. The LITTLE MAN comes in and
seats himself gingerly.]
AMERICAN. Where's the mother?
LITTLE MAN. [Ruefully] Afraid she got left behind.
[The DUTCH YOUTH laughs. The ENGLISH unconsciously emerge from
their newspapers.]
AMERICAN. My! That would appear to be quite a domestic incident.
[The ENGLISHMAN suddenly utters a profound "Ha, Ha!" and
disappears behind his paper. And that paper and the one
opposite are seen to shake, and little sguirls and squeaks
emerge.]
GERMAN. And you haf got her bundle, and her baby. Ha! [He cackles
drily.]
AMERICAN. [Gravely] I smile. I guess Providence has played it
pretty low down on you. It's sure acted real mean.
[The BABY wails, and the LITTLE MAN jigs it with a sort of
gentle desperation, looking apologetically from face to face.
His wistful glance renews the fore of merriment wherever it
alights. The AMERICAN alone preserves a gravity which seems
incapable of being broken.]
AMERICAN. Maybe you'd better get off right smart and restore that
baby. There's nothing can act madder than a mother.
LITTLE MAN. Poor thing, yes! What she must be suffering!
[A gale of laughter shakes the carriage. The ENGLISH for a
moment drop their papers, the better to indulge. The LITTLE MAN
smiles a wintry smile.]
AMERICAN. [In a lull] How did it eventuate?
LITTLE MAN. We got there just as the train was going to start; and I
jumped, thinking I could help her up. But it moved too quickly,
and--and left her.
[The gale of laughter blows up again.]
AMERICAN. Guess I'd have thrown the baby out to her.
LITTLE MAN. I was afraid the poor little thing might break.
[The Baby wails; the LITTLE MAN heaves it; the gale of laughter
blows.]
AMERICAN. [Gravely] It's highly entertaining--not for the baby.
What kind of an old baby is it, anyway? [He sniff's] I judge it's a
bit--niffy.
LITTLE MAN. Afraid I've hardly looked at it yet.
AMERICAN. Which end up is it?
LITTLE MAM. Oh! I think the right end. Yes, yes, it is.
AMERICAN. Well, that's something. Maybe you should hold it out of
window a bit. Very excitable things, babies!
ENGLISHWOMAN. [Galvanized] No, no!
ENGLISHMAN. [Touching her knee] My dear!
AMERICAN. You are right, ma'am. I opine there's a draught out
there. This baby is precious. We've all of us got stock in this
baby in a manner of speaking. This is a little bit of universal
brotherhood. Is it a woman baby?
LITTLE MAN. I--I can only see the top of its head.
AMERICAN. You can't always tell from that. It looks kind of
over-wrapped up. Maybe it had better be unbound.
GERMAN. 'Nein, nein, nein'!
AMERICAN. I think you are very likely right, colonel. It might be a
pity to unbind that baby. I guess the lady should be consulted in
this matter.
ENGLISHWOMAN. Yes, yes, of course----!
ENGLISHMAN. [Touching her] Let it be! Little beggar seems all
right.
AMERICAN. That would seem only known to Providence at this moment.
I judge it might be due to humanity to look at its face.
LITTLE MAN. [Gladly] It's sucking my' finger. There, there--nice
little thing--there!
AMERICAN. I would surmise in your leisure moments you have created
babies, sir?
LITTLE MAN. Oh! no--indeed, no.
AMERICAN. Dear me!--That is a loss. [Addressing himself to the
carriage at large] I think we may esteem ourselves fortunate to have
this little stranger right here with us. Demonstrates what a hold
the little and weak have upon us nowadays. The colonel here--a man
of blood and iron--there he sits quite calm next door to it. [He
sniffs] Now, this baby is rather chastening--that is a sign of
grace, in the colonel--that is true heroism.
LITTLE MAN. [Faintly] I--I can see its face a little now.
[All bend forward.]
AMERICAN. What sort of a physiognomy has it, anyway?
LITTLE MAN. [Still faintly] I don't see anything but--but spots.
GERMAN. Oh! Ha! Pfui!
[The DUTCH YOUTH laughs.]
AMERICAN. I am told that is not uncommon amongst babies. Perhaps we
could have you inform us, ma'am.
ENGLISHWOMAN. Yes, of course--only what sort of----
LITTLE MAN. They seem all over its----[At the slight recoil of
everyone] I feel sure it's--it's quite a good baby underneath.
AMERICAN. That will be rather difficult to come at. I'm just a bit
sensitive. I've very little use for affections of the epidermis.
GERMAN. Pfui! [He has edged away as far as he can get, and is
lighting a big cigar]
[The DUTCH YOUTH draws his legs back.]
AMERICAN. [Also taking out a cigar] I guess it would be well to
fumigate this carriage. Does it suffer, do you think?
LITTLE MAN. [Peering] Really, I don't--I'm not sure--I know so
little about babies. I think it would have a nice expression--if--if
it showed.
AMERICAN. Is it kind of boiled looking?
LITTLE MAN. Yes--yes, it is.
AMERICAN. [Looking gravely round] I judge this baby has the
measles.
[The GERMAN screws himself spasmodically against the arm of the
ENGLISHWOMAN'S seat.]
ENGLISHWOMAN. Poor little thing! Shall I----?
[She half rises.]
ENGLISHMAN. [Touching her] No, no----Dash it!
AMERICAN. I honour your emotion, ma'am. It does credit to us all.
But I sympathize with your husband too. The measles is a very
important pestilence in connection with a grown woman.
LITTLE MAN. It likes my finger awfully. Really, it's rather a sweet
baby.
AMERICAN. [Sniffing] Well, that would appear to be quite a
question. About them spots, now? Are they rosy?
LITTLE MAN. No-o; they're dark, almost black.
GERMAN. Gott! Typhus! [He bounds up on to the arm of the
ENGLISHWOMAN'S Seat.]
AMERICAN. Typhus! That's quite an indisposition!
[The DUTCH YOUTH rises suddenly, and bolts out into the
corridor. He is followed by the GERMAN, puffing clouds of
smoke. The ENGLISH and AMERICAN sit a moment longer without
speaking. The ENGLISHWOMAN'S face is turned with a curious
expression--half pity, half fear--towards the LITTLE MAN. Then
the ENGLISHMAN gets up.]
ENGLISHMAN. Bit stuffy for you here, dear, isn't it?
[He puts his arm through hers, raises her, and almost pushes her
through the doorway. She goes, still looking back.]
AMERICAN. [Gravely] There's nothing I admire more'n courage. Guess
I'll go and smoke in the corridor.
[As he goes out the LITTLE MAN looks very wistfully after him.
Screwing up his mouth and nose, he holds the BABY away from him
and wavers; then rising, he puts it on the seat opposite and
goes through the motions of letting down the window. Having
done so he looks at the BABY, who has begun to wail. Suddenly
he raises his hands and clasps them, like a child praying.
Since, however, the BABY does not stop wailing, he hovers over
it in indecision; then, picking it up, sits down again to dandle
it, with his face turned toward the open window. Finding that
it still wails, he begins to sing to it in a cracked little
voice. It is charmed at once. While he is singing, the
AMERICAN appears in the corridor. Letting down the passage
window, he stands there in the doorway with the draught blowing
his hair and the smoke of his cigar all about him. The LITTLE
MAN stops singing and shifts the shawl higher to protect the
BABY'S head from the draught.]
AMERICAN. [Gravely] This is the most sublime spectacle I have ever
envisaged. There ought to be a record of this.
[The LITTLE MAN looks at him, wondering. You are typical, sir,
of the sentiments of modern Christianity. You illustrate the
deepest feelings in the heart of every man.]
[The LITTLE MAN rises with the BABY and a movement of approach.]
Guess I'm wanted in the dining-car.
[He vanishes. The LITTLE MAN sits down again, but back to the
engine, away from the draught, and looks out of the window,
patiently jogging the BABY On his knee.]
CURTAIN