GEORGE (taking of the wristlets and putting them in his bag). Oh, I

can't give her away. I was--just trying them on, to see if they fitted.

AUGUSTA. When did they come?

GEORGE (glancing at DR. JONATHAN). Er--this morning.

(Enter ASHER and TIMOTHY from the study, left. ASHER is evidently

wrought up from his talk with TIMOTHY.)

ASHER. Remember, Timothy, I rely on sensible men like you to put a stop

to this nonsense.

AUGUSTA. Asher, here's Jonathan.

ASHER. Oh! (He goes up to DR. JONATHAN and takes his hand, though it is

quite evident that his mind is still on the trouble in the shops). Glad

to see you back in Foxon Falls, Jonathan. I heard you'd arrived, and

would have dropped in on you, but things are in a muddle here just now.

DR. JONATHAN. Not only here, but everywhere.

ASHER. You're right. The country's going to the dogs. I don't know

what will straighten it out.

DR. JONATHAN. Intelligence, open-mindedness, cooperation, Asher.

ASHER (arrested: looking at him). Hum!

DR. JONATHAN (leaving him and going up to TIMOTHY). You don't remember

me, Timothy?

TIMOTHY. Sure and I do, sir,--though you were only a little lad. You

mind me of your father,--your smile, like. He was the grand, simple man!

It's happy I am to see you back in Foxon Falls.

DR. JONATHAN. Yes, I've been ordered to the rear.

TIMOTHY. The rear, is it? I'm thinking we'll be fighting this war in

Foxon Falls, too.

DR. JONATHAN. Yes, much of it will be fought behind the battle lines.

AUGUSTA. You think the Germans will come over here?

DR. JONATHAN. No, but the issue is over here already.

(DR. JONATHAN picks up her ball of wool, which has fallen to the

floor.)

AUGUSTA (looking at him apprehensively: puzzled). Thank you, Jonathan.

(She turns to TIMOTHY, who has started toward the door, lower right)

Wait a moment, Timothy, I want to ask you about your children. What do

you hear from Minnie? I always took an interest in her, you know,

--especially when she was in the tool packing department of the shops,

and I had her in my Bible class. I appreciated your letting her come,

--an Irishman and a Catholic as you are.

TIMOTHY. The Church has given me up as a heathen, ma'am, when I married

your cook, and she a Protestant.

AUGUSTA. I've been worried about Minnie since she went to Newcastle.

She has so much vitality, and I'm afraid she's pleasure loving though she

seemed to take to religion with her whole soul. And where's Jamesy?

TIMOTHY. Jamesy, is it? It's gone to the bad entirely he is, with the

drink. He left the shops when the twelve-hour shifts began--wherever

he's at now. It's home Minnie came from Newcastle yesterday, ma'am, for

a visit,--she's outside there now, with Bert,--they walked along with me.

AUGUSTA. Bring them in, I want to see them,--especially Minnie. I must

say I'm surprised she should have come home without calling on me.

TIMOTHY. I'll get them, ma'am.

(He goes out of the door, upper right. GEORGE, who has been

palpably ill at ease during this conversation, now makes for the

door, lower right.)

AUGUSTA. Where are you going, my dear?

GEORGE (halting). I thought I'd look around and see if I'd forgotten

anything, mother.

AUGUSTA. Stay with us,--there's plenty of time.

(TIMOTHY returns through the doorway, upper right, with BERT, but

without MINNIE.)

TIMOTHY. It's disappeared entirely she is, ma'am,--here one minute and

there the next, the way with young people nowadays. And she's going back

to Newcastle this afternoon, to her job at the Wire Works.

AUGUSTA. I must see her before she goes. I feel in a measure

responsible for her. You'll tell her?

TIMOTHY. I'll tell her.

AUGUSTA. How are you getting along, Bert?

BERT. Very well, thank you, Mrs. Pindar.

(The MAID enters, lower right.)

MAID. Miss Thorpe wishes to speak with you, ma'am.

AUGUSTA (gathering up her knitting). It's about the wool for the Red

Cross.

(Exit, lower right.)

GEORGE (shaking hands with BERT). Hello, Bert,--how goes it?

BERT. All right, thank you, lieutenant.

GEORGE. Oh, cut out the title.

(BERT FARRELL is about twenty three. He wears a brown flannel shirt

and a blue four-in-hand tie, and a good ready-made suit. He holds

his hat in front of him. He is a self-respecting, able young Irish

American of the blue-eyed type that have died by thousands on the

battle fields of France, and whose pictures may be seen in our

newspapers.)

ASHER. You're not working today, Bert?

BERT. I've left the shops, Mr. Pindar,--I got through last night.

ASHER. Left the shops! You didn't say anything about this, Timothy!

TIMOTHY. No, sir,--you have trouble enough today.

ASHER (to BERT). Why did you leave?

BERT. I'm going to enlist, Mr. Pindar,--with the Marines. From what

I've heard of that corps, I think I'd like to join it.

ASHER (exasperated). But why do you do a thing like this when you must

know I need every man here to help turn out these machines? And

especially young men like you, good mechanics! If you wanted to serve

your country, you were better off where you were. I got you exempted

--(catching himself) I mean, you were exempted from the draft.

BERT. I didn't want to be exempted, sir. More than four hundred of the

boys have gone from the shops, as well as Mr. George here, and I couldn't

stand it no longer.

ASHER. What's Mr. George got to do with it? The cases are different.

BERT (stoutly). I don't see that, Mr. Pindar. Every man, no matter who

he is, has to decide a thing like this for himself.

GEORGE. Bert's right, dad.

ASHER. You say he's right, when you know that I need every hand I can

get to carry out this contract?

GEORGE. He's going to make a contract, too. He's giving up all he has.

ASHER. And you approve of this, Timothy?

TIMOTHY. Sure, I couldn't stop him, Mr. Pindar! And it's proud I am of

him, the same as you are of Mr. George, that he'd be fighting for America

and liberty.

ASHER. Liberty! License is what we're getting now! The workman thinks

he can do as he pleases. And after all I've done for my workmen,

--building them a club house with a piano in it, and a library and a

billiard table, trying to do my best to make them comfortable and

contented. I pay them enough to buy pianos and billiard tables for

themselves, and you tell me they want still higher wages.

TIMOTHY. They're saying they can go down to the shipyards, where they'd

be getting five dollars and thirty cents a day.

ASHER. Let them go to the shipyards, if they haven't any sense of

gratitude! What else do they say?

TIMOTHY. That you have a contract, sir, and making millions out of it.

ASHER. What can they know about my profits?

TIMOTHY. It's just that, sir,--they know nothing at all. But they're

saying they ought to know, since things is different now, and they're

working for the war and the country, the same as yourself.

ASHER. Haven't I established a system of bonuses, to share my profits

with the efficient and the industrious?

TIMOTHY. They don't understand the bonuses,--how you come by them.

Autocracy is the word they use. And they say you put up a notice sudden

like, without asking them, that there'd be two long shifts instead of

three eight-hour ones. They're willing to work twelve hours on end, for

the war, they say, but they'd want to be consulted.

ASHER. What business is it of theirs?

TIMOTHY. Well, it's them that has to do the hard work, sir. There was a

meeting last night, I understand, with Rench and Hillman and a delegate

come from Newcastle making speeches, the only way they'd get their rights

would be for you to recognize the union.

ASHER. I'll never recognize a union! I won't have any outsiders,

meddlers and crooks dictating my business to me.

TIMOTHY. I've been with you thirty years, come December, Mr. Pindar, and

you've been a good employer to me. I don't hold with the unions--you

know it well, sir, or you wouldn't be asking me advice. I'm telling you

what they're saying.

ASHER. I didn't mean to accuse you,--you've been a good and loyal

employee--that's why I sent for you. Find out what their game is, and

let me know.

TIMOTHY. It's not a detective I am, Mr. Pindar. I'm a workman meself.

That's another thing they're saying, that you'd pay detectives to go

among them, like workingmen.

ASHER (impatiently). I'm not asking you to be a detective,--I only want

you to give me warning if we are to have a strike.

TIMOTHY. I've warned you, sir,--if it's only for the sake of beating the

Germans, the dirty devils.

GEORGE (turning to BERT). Well, here's wishing you luck, Bert, and

hoping we'll meet over there. I know how you feel,--you want to be in

it, just as I do.

ASHER (turning). Perhaps I said more than I meant to, Bert. I've got to

turn out these machines in order that our soldiers may have shrapnel to

fight with, and what with enlistments and the determination of

unscrupulous workmen to take advantage of the situation, I'm pretty hard

pressed. I can't very well spare steady young men like you, who have too

much sense and too much patriotism to mix yourselves up with trouble

makers. But I, too, can understand your feeling,--I'd like to be going

myself. You might have consulted me, but your place will be ready for

you when you come back.

BERT. Thank you, sir. (He turns his hat over in his hands.) Maybe it

would be fair to tell you, Mr. Pindar, that I've got a union card in my

pocket.

ASHER. You, Timothy Farrell's son!

TIMOTHY. What's that? And never a word to me!

BERT (to TIMOTHY). Why wouldn't I join the union? I took out the card

this morning, when I see that that's the only way we'll get what's coming

to us. We ain't got a chance against the, employers without the union.

TIMOTHY. God help me, to think my son would join the union,--and he

going to be a soldier!

BERT (glancing at GEORGE). I guess there'll be other union men in the

trenches besides me.

ASHER. Soldier or no soldier, I'll never employ any man again who's

joined a union.

GEORGE (perturbed). Hold on, dad!

ASHER. I mean what I say, I don't care who he is.

BERT (who retains his self-possession). Excuse me, Mr. Pindar, but I'd

like to ask you a question--I've heard the men talking about this in the

shops. You don't like it if we go off to--fight, but if we join the

union you fire us, no matter how short-handed you are.

ASHER. It's a principle with me,--I won't have any outside agency

dictating to me.

BERT. But if it came to recognizing the union, or shutting down?

ASHER. I'd shut down tomorrow.

(GEORGE, who sees the point, makes a gesture as if about to

interrupt.)

BERT. That's what I'm getting at, Mr. Pindar. You say you'd shut down

for a principle, whether the government gets the machines or not. And

the men say they'd join the union for a principle, whether the government

gets the machines or not. It looks to me as if both was hindering the

war for a principle, and the question is, which principle is it that

agrees best with what we're fighting for?

ASHER. No man joins a union for a principle, but for extortion. I can't

discuss it,--I won't!

BERT. I'm sorry, sir.

(He turns to go out, lower right.)

GEORGE (overtaking him and grasping his hand). So long, Bert. I'll look

you up, over there!

BERT (gazing at him). All right, Mr. George.

GEORGE. Goodbye, Timothy. Don't worry about the boy.

TIMOTHY. It's proud I am to have him go. Mr. George,--but I can't think

why he'd be joining the union, and never telling me.

(He stands for a moment troubled, glancing at ASHER, torn between

loyalty to his employer and affection for his son. Then he goes out

slowly, upper right. All the while DR. JONATHAN has stood in the

rear of the room, occasionally glancing at GEORGE. He now comes

forward, unobtrusively, yet withal impressively.)

ASHER. I never expected to hear such talk from a son of Timothy

Farrell,--a boy I thought was level-headed. (To DR. JONATHAN) What do

you think of that? You heard it.

DR. JONATHAN. Well, he stated the issue, Asher.

ASHER. The issue of what?

DR. JONATHAN. Of the new century.

GEORGE. The issue of the new century

ASHER. You're right, we've got to put these people down. After the war

they'll come to heel,--we'll have a cheap labour market then.

DR. JONATHAN. Humanity has always been cheap, but we're spending it

rather lavishly just now.

ASHER, You mean that there will be a scarcity of labour? And that they

can continue to blackmail us into paying these outrageous wages?

DR. JONATHAN. When you pay a man wages, Asher, you own him,--until he

is turned over to somebody else.

ASHER (puzzled, a little suspicious for the first time). I own his

labour, of course.

DR. JONATHAN. Then you own his body, and his soul. Perhaps he resents

being regarded as a commodity.

ASHER. What else is labour?

DR. JONATHAN. How would you like to be a commodity?

ASHER. I? I don't see what that has to do with it. These men have no

consideration, no gratitude, after the way I've treated them.

DR. JONATHAN. Isn't that what they object to?

ASHER. What?

DR. JONATHAN. To being treated.

ASHER. Object to kindness?

DR. JONATHAN. To benevolence.

ASHER. Well, what's the difference?

DR. JONATHAN. The difference between self-respect and dependence.

ASHER. Are--are you a Socialist?

DR. JONATHAN. NO, I'm a scientist.

(ASHER is standing staring at him when the MAID enters, lower

right.)

MAID. Your long distance call to Washington, sir.

ASHER. Very well.

(As he starts to go out he halts and looks at DR. JONATHAN again,

and then abruptly leaves the room, lower right, following the MAID.)

GEORGE (who has been regarding DR. JONATHAN: after a moment's

hesitation). You seem to think there's something to be said for the

workman's attitude, Dr. Jonathan.

DR. JONATHAN. What is his attitude, George?

GEORGE. Well, you heard Bert just now. I thought he had poor old dad

on the hip when he accused the employer of holding up the war, too.

But after all, what labour is after is more money, isn't it? and they're

taking advantage of a critical situation to get it. And when they get

money, most of them blow it in on sprees.

DR. JONATHAN. George, what are you going to France to fight for?

GEORGE. Germany's insulted our flag, murdered our people on the high

seas and wants to boss the world.

DR. JONATHAN (smiling). The issue, then, is human freedom.

GEORGE. Sure thing!

DR. JONATHAN. And you think every man and woman in this country is

reasonably free?

GEORGE. Every man can rise if he has the ability.

DR. JONATHAN. What do you mean by rise?

GEORGE. He can make money, set up for himself and be his own boss.

DR. JONATHAN. In other words, he can become free.

GEORGE (grinning). I suppose that's one way of putting it.

DR. JONATHAN. Money gives him freedom, doesn't it? Money gave you

yours,--to go to school and college until you were twenty four, and get

an education,--such as it was.

GEORGE. Such as it was!

DR. JONATHAN. Money gave you the choice of engaging in an occupation in

which you could take an interest and a pride, and enabled you

occasionally to go on a spree, if you ever went on a spree, George.

GEORGE. Once in awhile.

DR. JONATHAN. But this craving for amusement, for excitement and

adventure isn't peculiar to you and me. Workingmen have it too,--and

working girls.

GEORGE. You're a wise guy, I guess.

DR. JONATHAN. Oh no,--not that! But I've found out that you and I are

not so very different from Timothy Farrell and his children,--Bert and

Jamesy and--Minnie.

GEORGE (startled, and looking around to follow DR. JONATHAN'S glance

toward the windows). What do you know about them?

DR. JONATHAN. Oh, nothing at first hand. But I can see why Bert's going

to the war, and why Jamesy took to drink, and why Minnie left Foxon

Falls.

GEORGE. The deuce you can!

DR. JONATHAN. And so can you, George. When you get back from France you

will know what you have been fighting for.

GEORGE. And what's that?

DR. JONATHAN. Economic freedom, without which political freedom is a

farce. Industrial democracy.

GEORGE. Industrial democracy! Well, it wasn't included in my education

at Harvard.

DR. JONATHAN. Our education begins, unfortunately, after we leave

Harvard,--with Bert and Jamesy and Minnie. And here's Minnie, now!

GEORGE (hastily). I'll beat it! Mother wants to talk to her.

DR. JONATHAN (his hand on GEORGE'S arm). No,--wait.

(Enter, lower right, AUGUSTA, followed by MINNIE FARRELL. MINNIE,

AUGUSTA'S back being turned toward her, gives GEORGE a wink, which

he acknowledges, and then glances toward DR. JONATHAN. AUGUSTA,

with her knitting, seats herself in an armchair. Her attitude is

somewhat inquisitorial; her tone, as she addresses MINNIE, non-

committal. She is clearly offended by MINNIE'S poise and good-

natured self-assertion.)

AUGUSTA. You remember Mr. Pindar, Minnie.

MINNIE (demurely). Glad to meet you again, Mr. Pindar. I hear you're

going off to the war. Well, that's great.

GEORGE (squeezing her hand; she winces a little). Oh, yes,-I remember

Minnie.

AUGUSTA. And this is Dr. Jonathan Pindar.

MINNIE (who has been eyeing DR. JONATHAN as a possible enemy; with

reserve). Glad to meet you, I'm sure.

DR. JONATHAN (smiling at her as he takes her hand). The pleasure is

--mutual.

MINNIE (puzzled, but somewhat reassured). Glad to meet you.

DR. JONATHAN. I've come to live in Foxon Falls. I hope we'll be

friends.

MINNIE. I hope so. I'm going back to Newcastle this afternoon, there's

nothing doing here.

DR. JONATHAN. Would you stay, if there were something doing?

MINNIE. I--I don't know. What would I be doing here?

AUGUSTA (disapprovingly, surveying, MINNIE'S costume). I don't think I

should have recognized you, Minnie.

MINNIE. City life agrees with me, Mrs. Pindar. But I needed a little

rest cure, and I came to see what the village looked like.

DR. JONATHAN. A sort of sentimental journey, Minnie.

MINNIE (flashing a look at GEORGE, and another at DR. JONATHAN). Well,

you might call it that. I get you.

AUGUSTA. Minnie, what church do you attend in Newcastle?

MINNIE. Well, I haven't got a seat in any particular church, Mrs.

Pindar.

AUGUSTA. I didn't expect you to go to the expense of getting a seat.

I hope you delivered the letter our minister gave you to the minister of

the First Church in Newcastle.

MINNIE. No, I didn't, Mrs. Pindar, and that's the truth. I never went

near a church.

AUGUSTA (drily). It's a pity you ever went to Newcastle, I think.

MINNIE. It's some town! Every time you ride into it you see a big sign,

"Welcome to Newcastle, population one hundred and six thousand, and

growing every day. Goodbye, and thank you!"

AUGUSTA (knitting). You drive about in automobiles!

MINNIE. Oh, sometimes I get a joy ride.

AUGUSTA. It grieves me to hear you talk in this way. I knew you were

pleasure loving, I thought I saw certain tendencies in you, yet you

seemed to realize the grace of religion when you were in my Bible class.

Your brother Jamesy took to drink--

MINNIE. And I took to religion. You meant to be kind, Mrs. Pindar, and

I thank you. But now I know why Jamesy took to drink--it was for the

same reason I took to religion.

AUGUSTA (scandalized). Minnie!

MINNIE. We were both trying to be free, to escape.

AUGUSTA. To escape? From what?

MINNIE (with a gesture indicating futility). I guess it would be pretty

hard to get it across to you, Mrs. Pindar. But I was working ten hours a

day packing tools in your shops, and all you gave me when the whistle

blew was--Jesus.

(A pause: GEORGE takes a step toward her.)

Jamesy took to drink, and I took to Jesus. I'm not saying anything

against Him. He had His life, but I wanted mine. Maybe He would have

understood.

(Turning impulsively toward DR. JONATHAN.)

I've got a hunch that you understand.

AUGUSTA. Minnie, I can't let you talk about religion in this way in my

presence.

MINNIE. I'm sorry, Mrs. Pindar, I knew it wasn't no use to come and see

you,--I told father so.

AUGUSTA. I suppose, if you're determined to continue this life of--(she

catches herself) I can't stop you.

MINNIE (flaring up). What life? Don't worry about me, Mrs. Pindar,--I

get twenty five dollars a week at the Shale Works making barb wire to

trip up the Huns with,--enough to get nice clothes--(she glances down at

her dress) and buy good food, and have a good time on the side.

AUGUSTA (whose conceptions of what she believes to be MINNIE's kind are

completely upset). You still work?

MINNIE. Work! Sure I work. I wouldn't let any man get a strangle hold

on me. And I don't kick at a little overtime, neither. I'm working for

what he's going to fight for--(indicating GEORGE) it ain't for myself

only, but for everybody that ain't been free, all over the world. (To

DR. JONATHAN.) Ain't that right? (She does not wait for his nod of

approval.) I was just saying this morning--(she looks toward GEORGE and

catches herself)--I've been wishing all along I could do more--go as a

nurse for some of the boys.

AUGUSTA. A nurse!

MINNIE (to DR. JONATHAN). If I was a man, I'd have been a doctor, like

you. Sick people don't bother me, I give myself to 'em. Before mother

died, when she was sick, she always said I'd ought to have been a nurse.

(A pause.) Well, I guess I'll go along. The foreman only give me a

couple of days off to see the old home town.

GEORGE. Hold on, Minnie.

MINNIE. What is it?

GEORGE (to AUGUSTA). Minnie and I are old friends, mother.

AUGUSTA. Old friends?

GEORGE. Yes. I knew her--very well before she went away from Foxon

Falls, and I went to Newcastle and took her out for a drive in my car.

MINNIE (vehemently). No, you never.

GEORGE. Why do you deny it?

MINNIE. There's nothing to it.

AUGUSTA (aghast). George!

GEORGE. Well, it's true. I'm not ashamed of it, though Minnie appears

to be.

MINNIE (on the verge of tears). If you wasn't ashamed, why didn't you

tell, her before? I'm not ashamed of it, neither. It was natural.

AUGUSTA (after a pause, with a supreme effort to meet the situation).

Well, I suppose men are different. But there's no excuse for you, after

all I tried to do for you.

MINNIE. Thank God men are different!

(AUGUSTA rises. The ball of wool drops to the floor again, and DR.

JONATHAN picks it up.)

GEORGE. Mother, I'd like to tell you about it. You don't understand.

AUGUSTA. I'm afraid I do understand, dear.

(As she leaves the room, with dignity, GEORGE glances appealingly at

DR. JONATHAN.)

DR. JONATHAN (going up to MINNIE and taking her hand). Do you think

you'd have time to drop in to see me, Minnie, before your train goes?

MINNIE (gazing at him; after a moment). Sure! I guess I'd like to talk

to you.

DR. JONATHAN. It's the little white house across the Common.

MINNIE. Oh, I know, that's been shut up all these years.

DR. JONATHAN. And is open now again.

(He goes out, lower right, and there is a brief silence as the two

look after him.)

MINNIE. Say, who is he?

GEORGE. Why, he's a cousin of mine--

MINNIE. I don't mean that. He's somebody, ain't he?

GEORGE. By jingo, I'm beginning to think he is!

(They stand gazing at one another.)

MINNIE (remembering her grievance: passionately). Now you've gone and

done it--telling your mother we were friends.

GEORGE. But we are--aren't we? You couldn't expect me to keep quiet,

under the circumstances.

MINNIE. She thinks I'm not fit to talk to you. Not that I care, except

that I was fond of her, she's been good to me in her way, and I felt real

bad when I went off to Newcastle with the letter to the minister I never

laid eyes on. She'll believe--you know what she'll believe,--it'll

trouble her. She's your mother, and you're going away. You might have

kept still.

GEORGE. I couldn't keep still. What would you have thought of me?

MINNIE. It don't make any difference what I'd have thought of you.

GEORGE. It makes a difference to me, and it makes some difference what I

think of myself. I seem to be learning a good many things this morning.

MINNIE. From him?

GEORGE: You mean Dr. Jonathan?

MINNIE. Yes.

GEORGE (reflecting). I don't know. I'm learning them from you, from

everybody.

MINNIE. Maybe he put you wise.

GEORGE. Well, I don't feel wise. And seeing you again this morning

brought it all back to me.

MINNIE. You were only fooling.

GEORGE. I began that way,--I'll own up. But I told you I'd never met

a girl like you, you're full of pep--courage--something I can't describe.

I was crazy about you,--that's straight,--but I didn't realize it until you

ran off, and then I went after you,--but it was no good! I don't claim

to have been square with you, and I've been thinking--well, that I'm

responsible.

MINNIE. Responsible for what?

GEORGE. Well-for your throwing yourself away down there at Newcastle.

You're too good.

MINNIE (with heat). Throwing myself away?

GEORGE. Didn't you? Didn't you break loose?--have a good time?

MINNIE. Why wouldn't I have a good time? That's what you were having,

--a good time with me,--wasn't it? And say, did you ever stop to think

what one day of a working girl's life was like?

GEORGE. One day?

MINNIE. With an alarm clock scaring you out of sweet dreams in the

winter, while it's dark, and you get up and dress in the cold and heat a

little coffee over a lamp and beat it for the factory,--and stand on your

feet all morning, in a noise that would deafen you, feeding a thing you

ain't got no interest in? It don't never need no rest! By eleven

o'clock you think you're all in, that the morning'll never end, but at

noon you get a twenty five cent feed that lasts you until about five in

the afternoon,--and then you don't know which way the machine's headed.

I've often thought of one of them cutters at Shale's as a sort of

monster, watching you all day, waiting to get you when you're too tired

to care. (Dreamily.) When it looks all blurred, and you want to put your

hand in it.

GEORGE. Good God, Minnie!

MINNIE. And when the whistle blows at night all you have is your little

hall bedroom in a rooming house that smells of stale smoke and cabbage.

There's no place to go except the streets--but you've just got to go

somewhere, to break loose and have a little fun,--even though you're so

tired you want to throw yourself on the bed and cry.

(A pause.)

Maybe it's because you're tired. When you're tired that way is when you

want a good time most. It's funny, but it's so.

(A pause.)

You ain't got no friends except a few girls with hall bedrooms like

yourself, and if a chance comes along for a little excitement, you don't

turn it down, I guess.

GEORGE (after a pause). I never knew what your life was like.

MINNIE. Why would you?--with friends, and everything you want, only to

buy it? But since the war come on, I tell you, I ain't kicking, I can go

to a movie or the theatre once in a while, and buy nice clothes, and I

don't get so tired as I used to. I don't want nothing from anybody, I

can take care of myself. It's money that makes you free.

GEORGE. Money!

MINNIE. When I looked into this room this morning and saw you standing

here in your uniform, I says to myself, "He's changed." Not that you

wasn't kind and good natured and generous, George, but you didn't know.

How could you? You'd never had a chance to learn anything!

GEORGE (bitterly, yet smiling in spite of himself). That's so!

MINNIE. I remember that first night I ran into you,--I was coming home

from your shops, and you made love to me right off the bat! And after

that we used to meet by the watering trough on the Lindon road. We were

kids then. And it didn't make no difference how tired I was, I'd get

over it as soon as I saw you. You were the live wire!

GEORGE. Minnie, tell me, what made you come back to Foxon Falls today?

(He seizes her hand.)

MINNIE (struggling). Don't, George,--don't go and be foolish again!

(The shop whistle blows. She pulls away from him and backs toward

the doorway, upper right.)

There's the noon whistle! Goodbye, I'll be thinking of you, over there.

GEORGE. I'll write to you. Will you write to me, Minnie?

MINNIE (shaking her head). Don't lose any sleep about me. Good luck,

George!

(She goes to the doorway, upper right, turns, kisses her hand to

GEORGE and disappears. He goes to the doorway and gazes after her;

presently he raises his hand and waves in answer to another signal,

and smiles. He remains there until MINNIE is out of sight, and then

is about to come back into the room when a man appears on the

sidewalk, seen through the windows. The man is PRAG. He is a gaunt

workman, with high cheek bones and a rather fanatical light in his

blue eyes. He stands motionless, gazing at the house.)

GEORGE (calling). Do you want anything, Prag?

PRAG. I joost come to look at your house, where you live. It is no

harm, is it?

GEORGE. None at all.

(PRAG continues to stare at the house, and GEORGE obeys a sudden

impulse.)

Won't you come in, Prag?

PRAG (looking fixedly at the house). No, I stay here.

GEORGE. Come in a while,--don't be unsociable.

(PRAG crosses the lawn and enters, upper right. He surveys the room

curiously, defiantly, and then GEORGE in uniform, as he cones down

the stage.)

You're not working today?

PRAG (with bitter gloom). I lose my job, you don't hear? No, it is

nothings to you, and you go away to fight for liberty,--ain't it?

GEORGE. How did you lose your job?

PRAG. The foreman come to me last night and says, "Prag I hear you

belong to the union. You gets out."

GEORGE (after a moment's hesitation). But--there are plenty of other

jobs these days. You can go down to the coast and get more than five

dollars a day at a shipyard.

PRAG. It is easy, yes, when you have a little home bought already, and

mortgaged, and childrens who go to school here, and a wife a long time

sick.

GEORGE. I'm sorry. But weren't you getting along all right here, except

your wife's illness? I don't want to be impertinent,--I recognize that

it's your affair, but I'd like to know why you joined the union.

PRAG. Why is it you join the army? To fight for somethings you would

give your life for--not so? Und you are a soldier,--would you run away

from your comrades to live safe and happy? No! That is like me. I lose

my job, I go away from my wife and childrens, but it is not for me, it is

for all, to get better things for all,--freedoms for all.

GEORGE. Then--you think this isn't a free country.

PRAG. When. I sail up the harbour at New York twenty years ago and see

that Liberty shining in the sun, I think so, yes. But now I know, for

the workmens, she is like the Iron Woman of Nuremberg, with her spikes

when she holds you in her arms. You call me a traitor, yes, when I say

that.

GEORGE. No--I want to understand.

PRAG. I am born in Bavaria, but I am as good an American as any,--better

than you, because I know what I fight for, what I suffer for. I am not

afraid of the Junkers here,--I have spirits,--but the Germans at home

have no spirits. You think you fight for freedoms, for democracy, but

you fight for this! (He waves his hand to indicate the room.) If I had a

million dollars, maybe I fight for it, too,--I don't know.

GEORGE. So you think I'm going to fight for this--for money?

PRAG. Are you going to fight for me, for the workmens and their

childrens? No, you want to keep your money, to make more of it from your

war contracts. It is for the capitalist system you fight.

GEORGE. Come, now, capital has some rights.

PRAG. I know this, that capital is power. What is the workmen's vote

against it? against your newspapers and your system? America, she will

not be free until your money power is broken. You don't like kings and

emperors, no,--you say to us workmens, you are not patriots, you are

traitors if you do not work and fight to win this war for democracy

against kings. Are we fools that we should worry about kings? Kings

will fall of themselves. Now you can put me in jail.

GEORGE. I don't want to put you in jail, God knows! How would you

manage it?

PRAG. Why does not the employer say to his workmens, "This is our war,

yours and mines. Here is my contract, here is my profits, we will have

no secrets, we will work together and talk together and win the war

together to make the world brighter for our childrens." Und then we

workmens say, "Yes, we will work night and day so hard as we can,

because we are free mens."

(A fanatical gleams comes into his eyes.)

But your employer, he don't say that,--no. He says, "This is my

contract, this is my shop, and if you join the unions to get your

freedoms you cannot work with me, you are traitors!"

(He rises to a frenzy of exaltation.)

After this there will be another war, and the capitalists will be swept

away like the kings!

(He pauses; GEORGE is silent.)

Und now I go away, and maybe my wife she die before I get to the shipyard

at Newcastle.

(He goes slowly out, upper right, and GEORGE does not attempt to

stay him. Enter ASHER, lower right.)

ASHER. I've just called up the Department in Washington and given them a

piece of my mind--told 'em they'd have to conscript labour. Damn these

unions, making all this trouble, and especially today, when you're going

off. I haven't had a chance to talk to you. Well, you know that I'm

proud of you, my boy. Your grandfather went off to the Civil War when he

was just about your age.

GEORGE. And he knew what he was going to fight for.

ASHER. What?

GEORGE. I thought I knew, this morning. Now I'm not so sure.

ASHER. You say that, when Germany intended to come over here and crush

us, when she got through with the Allies.

GEORGE. No, it's not so simple as that, dad, it's bigger than that.

ASHER. Who's been talking to you? Jonathan Pindar? I wish to God he'd

never come to Foxon Falls! I might have known what his opinions would

be, with his inheritance. (Reproachfully.) I didn't suppose you could be

so easily influenced by sentimentalism, George, I'd hoped you'd got over

that.

GEORGE. Are you sure it's sentimentalism, dad? Dr. Jonathan didn't say

much, but I'll admit he started me thinking. I've begun to realize a few

things--

ASHER. What things?

GEORGE (glancing at the clock on the mantel). I haven't got time to tell

you,--I'm afraid I couldn't make it clear, anyway,--it isn't clear in my

own mind yet. But,--go slow with this labour business, dad, there's

dynamite in it.

ASHER. Dynamite?

GEORGE. Human dynamite. They're full of it,--we're full of it, too,

I guess. They're not so different from you and me, though I'll admit

that many of them are ignorant, prejudiced and bitter. But this row

isn't just the result of restlessness and discontent,--that's the smoke,

but the fire's there, too. I've heard enough this morning to be

convinced that they're struggling for something fundamental, that has to

do with human progress,--the issue behind the war. It's obscured now, in

the smoke. Now if that's so you can't ignore it, dad, you can't suppress

it, the only thing to do is to sit down with them and try to understand

it. If they've got a case, if the union has come to stay, recognize it

and deal with it.

ASHER. You--you, my son, are not advising me to recognize the union!

To give our employees a voice in our private affairs!

GEORGE (courageously). But is the war our private affair, dad? Hasn't

it changed things already?

(ASHER makes a gesture of pain, of repudiation. GEORGE approaches

him appealingly.)

Dad, you know how much we've always been to each other, I'd hate to have

any misunderstanding between us,--especially today. I've always accepted

your judgment. But I'm over twenty one, I'm going to fight this war,

I've got to make up my own mind about it.

ASHER (extending his arms and putting his hands on GEORGE'S shoulders).

Something's upset you today, my boy,--you don't know what you're saying.

When you get over there and take command of your men you'll see things in

a truer proportion.

GEORGE. No, I can't leave it this way, dad. I've come to feel this

thing, it's got hold of me now, I shan't change. And I'll be thinking

of it over there, all the time, if we don't talk it out.

ASHER. For God's sake, George, don't speak of it again,--don't think of

it! There's no sacrifice I wouldn't make for you, in reason, but you're

asking me to go against my life-long convictions. As your father, I

forbid you to entertain such ideas--(he breaks off, choking). Don't

speak of them, don't think of them!

(TIMOTHY FARRELL Steps inside the doorway, upper right, followed by

BERT, and after a few moments by DR. JONATHAN.)

TIMOTHY. Excuse me sir, but you asked me to be letting you know if I

heard anything. There's a meeting called for tonight, and they'll strike

on Monday morning. It's certain I am, from the way the men are talking,

--unless ye'd agree to meet the committee this afternoon and come to an

understanding like.

ASHER. Let them strike. If they burned down the shops this afternoon,

I wouldn't stop them! (He waves TIMOTHY Off.) My boy is leaving for

France, and I'm going to New York with him.

TIMOTHY (with a sudden flaring up of sympathy). It's meself has a boy

going, too, Mr. Pindar. And maybe it's almost the last I'll be seeing of

him, this noon hour. Just a word with ye, before it's too late, sir.

ASHER (suppressing him). No, let them strike!

(He turns to hide his emotion and then rushes out of the door, lower

right. GEORGE and BERT come forward and stand with TIMOTHY, silent

after ASHER's dramatic exit; when TIMOTHY perceives DR. JONATHAN.)

TIMOTHY. Did you see my Minnie, doctor? She went to your house.

DR. JONATHAN. I met her on the street just now, and left her with Mrs.

Prag.

GEORGE. Prag's wife! You've been to see her?

DR. JONATHAN. Yes. Her condition is serious. She needs a nurse, and

Minnie volunteered.

TIMOTHY. My Minnie, is it? Then she won't be going back to Newcastle.

DR. JONATHAN (looking at GEORGE). She won't be going back to Newcastle.

TIMOTHY. That's Minnie! (he turns to GEORGE). Well, goodbye, Mr.

George,--I'll say God bless you again. (He looks at BERT.) You'll be

fighting over there, the pair of you, for freedom. Have an eye on him,

Sir, if you can,--give him some good advice.

GEORGE (his hand on BERT'S shoulder). Bert can take care of himself, I

guess. I'll be needing the advice!

(He shakes hands with TIMOTHY.)

CURTAIN.

ACT II

SCENE:

A fairly large room in DR. JONATHAN's house in Foxon Falls, which

has been converted into a laboratory. The house antedates the

PINDAR mansion, having been built in the first decade of the

nineteenth century, and though not large, has a certain distinction

and charm. The room has a panelled wainscoting and a carved wooden

mantel, middle left, painted white, like the doors. Into the

fireplace is set a Franklin stove. The windows at the rear have

small panes; the lower sashes are raised; the tops of the hollyhocks

and foxgloves in the garden bed may be seen above the window sills,

and the apple trees beyond. Under the windows is a long table, on

which are chemical apparatus. A white enamelled sink is in the rear

right corner. The walls are whitewashed, the wooden floor bare. A

door, left, in the rear, leads into DR. JONATHAN'S office; another,

middle right, into a little front hall.

TIME: A July morning, 1918.

MINNIE FARRELL, in the white costume worn by nurses and laboratory

workers, is at the bench, pouring liquid into a test tube and

holding its up to the light, when DR. JONATHAN enters from the

right.

DR. JONATHAN. Has anyone been in, Minnie?

MINNIE (turning, with the test tube in her hand). Now, what a question

to ask, Dr. Jonathan! Was there ever a morning or afternoon that

somebody didn't stray in here with their troubles? (Fiercely.) They

don't think a scientist has a real job,--they don't understand, if you

put this across--(she holds up the test tube)--you'll save the lives of

thousands of soldiers, and a few ordinary folks, too, I guess. But you

won't let me tell anyone.

DR. JONATHAN. It will be time enough to tell them when we do put it

across.

MINNIE. But we're going to,--that is, you're going to.

DR. JONATHAN. You're too modest, Minnie.

MINNIE. Me modest! But what makes me sore is that they don't give you

a chance to put this thing across. Dr. Senn's a back number, and if

they're sick they come here and expect you to cure 'em for nothing.

DR. JONATHAN. But they can't complain if I don't cure them.

MINNIE. And half the time they ain't sick at all,--they only imagine it.

DR. JONATHAN. Well, that's interesting too,--part of a doctor's

business. It's pretty hard to tell in these days where the body ends

and the soul begins.

MINNIE. It looks like you're cutting out the minister, too. You'd ought

to be getting his salary.

DR. JONATHAN. Then I'd have to do his job.

MINNIE. I get you--you'd be paid to give 'em all the same brand of dope.

You wouldn't be free.

DR. JONATHAN. To experiment.

MINNIE. You couldn't be a scientist. Say, every time I meet the

minister I want to cry, he says to himself, "She ran away from Jesus and

went to the bad. What right has she got to be happy?" And Mrs. Pindar's

just the same. If you leave the straight and narrow path you can't never

get back--they keep pushing you off.

DR. JONATHAN (who has started to work at the bench). I've always had my

doubts about your sins, Minnie.

MINNIE. Oh, I was a sinner, all right, they'll never get that out of

their craniums. But being a sinner isn't a patch on being a scientist!

It's nearly a year now since you took me in. The time's flown! When I

was in the Pindar Shops, and in the Wire Works at Newcastle I could

always beat the other girls to the Main Street when the whistle blew, but

now I'm sorry when night comes. I can't hardly wait to get back here

--honest to God! Say, Dr. Jonathan, I've found out one thing,--it's being

in the right place that keeps a man or a woman straight. If you're in

the wrong place, all the religion in the world won't help you. If you're

doing work you like, that you've got an interest in, and that's some use,

you don't need religion (she pauses). Why, that's religion,--it ain't

preaching and praying and reciting creeds, it's doing--it's fun. There's

no reason why religion oughtn't to be fun, is there?

DR. JONATHAN. None at all!

MINNIE. Now, if we could get everybody in the right job, we wouldn't

have any more wars, I guess.

DR. JONATHAN. The millennium always keeps a lap ahead--we never catch up

with it.

MINNIE. Well, I don't want to catch up with it. We wouldn't have

anything more to do. Say, it's nearly eleven o'clock--would you believe

it?--and I've been expecting Mr. Pindar to walk in here with the

newspaper. I forgot he was in Washington.

DR. JONATHAN. He was expected home this morning.

MINNIE. What gets me is the way he hangs around here, too, like

everybody else, and yet I've heard him call you a Socialist, and swear

he hasn't any use for Socialists.

DR. JONATHAN. Perhaps he's trying to find out what a Socialist is.

Nobody seems to know.

MINNIE. He don't know, anyway. If it hadn't been for you, his shops

would have been closed down last winter.

DR. JONATHAN. It looks as if they'd be closed down now, anyway.

MINNIE (concerned, looking up). Is that so? Well, he won't recognize

the union--he doesn't know what century he's living in. But he's human,

all the same, and he's good to the people he's fond of, like my father,

--and he sure loves George. He's got George's letters all wore out,

reading them, to people. (A pause.) He don't know where George is,

does he, Dr. Jonathan?

DR. JONATHAN. Somewhere in France.

MINNIE. We spotted Bert because he's with the Marines, at that place

where they put a crimp in the Huns the other day when they were going to

walk into Paris.

DR. JONATHAN. Chateau-Thierry.

MINNIE. I'll leave it to you. But say, Dr. Jonathan, things don't look

good to me,--I'm scared we won't get enough of our boys over there before

the deal's closed up. I've got so I don't want to look at a paper.

(A brief silence.)

I never told you George wrote me a couple of letters, did I?

DR. JONATHAN. No, I'm quite sure you didn't.

MINNIE. I never told nobody. His father and mother would be wild if

they knew it. I didn't answer them--I just sent him two post cards with

no writing on except the address--just pictures.

DR. JONATHAN. Pictures?

MINNIE. One of the Pindar Church and the Other of the Pindar Shops. I

guess he'll understand they were from me, all right. You see, when I ran

away from the Pindar Shops and the Pindar Church--I always connect them

together--I was stuck on George. That's why I ran away.

DR. JONATHAN. I see.

MINNIE. Oh, I never let him know. I don't know why I told you--I had to

tell somebody,--and you won't give me away.

DR. JONATHAN. You may count on me.

MINNIE. He didn't care nothing about me, really. But you can't help

liking George. He's human, all right! If he was boss of the Pindar

Shops there wouldn't be any strike.

(A knock at the door, right.)

I wonder who's butting in now!

(She goes to the door and jerks it open.)

(A man's voice, without.) Good morning, Miss Farrell. Is the doctor

in?

MINNIE. This is his busy day.

DR. JONATHAN (going toward the door). Oh, it's you, Hillman. Come in.

MINNIE. I guess I'll go for the mail.

(With a resigned expression she goes oust right as HILLMAN comes in,

followed by RENCH and FERSEN. They are the strike committee.

HILLMAN is a little man, with red hair and a stiff, bristling red

moustache. He holds himself erect, and walks on the balls of his

feet, quietly. RENCH is tall and thin, with a black moustache,

like a seal's. He has a loud, nasal voice, and an assertive manner.

FERSEN is a blond Swede.)

(DR. JONATHAN puts one or two objects in place on the bench. His

manner is casual but cordial, despite the portentous air of the

Committee.)

(The men, their hats in their hands, go toward the bench and inspect

the test tubes and apparatus.)

RENCH (New England twang). Always manage to have something on hand when

you ain't busy with the folks, doctor. It must be interestin' to fool

with these here chemicals.

DR. JONATHAN. It keeps me out of mischief.

HILLMAN. I guess you haven't much time to get into mischief.

FERSEN. We don't like to bother you.

DR. JONATHAN. No bother, Fersen,--sit down. (He draws forward some

chairs, and they sit down.) How is the baby?

FERSEN. Oh, she is fine, now, since we keep her outside in the baby

carriage, like you tell us.

(FERSEN grins, and immediately becomes serious again. A brief

silence.)

HILLMAN (clearing his throat). The fact is, Dr. Jonathan, the boys have

struck,--voted last night to walk out at noon today.

FERSEN. We thought we tell you now. You been such a good friend to us

and our families.

DR. JONATHAN. But isn't this rather sudden, with Mr. Pindar in

Washington?

RENCH. We couldn't wait no longer,--he's been standing us off for more

than a year. When he comes back from Washington there'll be nothing

doing. He's got to recognize the union or lose his contract.

DR. JONATHAN. He may prefer to lose his contract.

RENCH. Well, he can afford to. Then he can go to hell.

HILLMAN. Hold on, Sam, that ain't no way to talk to the doctor!

RENCH. I didn't mean no disrespect to him. He don't go 'round

preachin', like some fellers I could mention, but actions is louder than

words. Ain't that the reason we're here, because he sympathizes with us

and thinks we're entitled to a little more of this freedom that's bein'

handed 'round? We want you to help us, doctor.

DR. JONATHAN. It seems to me you've come a little late, Rench,--after

the event.

HILLMAN. Maybe if you'd said a word, they'd never have voted to strike.

FERSEN. But you never said nothing, Doctor.

DR. JONATHAN. Well, when you get around to admitting doctors to your

labour unions, perhaps they'll talk.

HILLMAN. If all the doctors was like you!

DR. JONATHAN. Give 'em a chance, Hillman.

HILLMAN. We don't have to explain to you why we want the union,--it's

the only way we'll ever get a say about the conditions in which we work

and live, now that the day of individual bargaining is gone by. You

understand. Mr. Pindar raised our wages when we threatened to strike

last fall, but he calculates to drop 'em again when the soldiers come

home.

FERSEN (nodding). Sure thing!

HILLMAN. It's this way, doctor. We notice Mr. Pindar comin' in here to

see you every day or so,--like the rest of Foxon Falls. And we thought

you could make him see this thing straight, if any man could.

DR. JONATHAN. So the shops will be idle.

RENCH. Not a shaft'll turn over till he recognizes the union.

HILLMAN. We don't want to do nothin' to obstruct the war, but we've got

to have our rights.

DR. JONATHAN. Can you get your rights now, without obstructing the war?

RENCH (aggressively). I get what you're driving at, doctor. You're

going to say that we've just reached quantity production on these here

machines, and if labour gets from under now, the Huns win. But tell me

this,--where'll labour be if America wins and our Junkers (he pronounces

the J) come out on top?--as they callate to.

DR. JONATHAN (smiling). When a building with dry rot catches fire,

Rench, can you put limit to how much of it will burn?

RENCH (after a pause). Maybe not. I get you--but--

DR. JONATHAN. No nation, no set of men in any nation can quench that

fire or make the world that is coming out of this war. They may think

they can, but they can't.

HILLMAN. That's so!

DR. JONATHAN. Germany will be beaten, because it is the temper of the

nation, the temper of the times--your temper. You don't want Germany to

win, Rench?

RENCH. No, I guess not.

DR. JONATHAN. And if you don't work here, you'll go off to work

somewhere else.

RENCH. Where they recognize the union.

DR. JONATHAN. A good many of your friends have enlisted, haven't they?

(RENCH nods.) And what do you suppose they are fighting for?

RENCH. For the same thing as we want, a square deal.

DR. JONATHAN. And what do you think George Pindar is fighting for?

RENCH. I ain't got nothing to say against him.

DR. JONATHAN. If you close down the Pindar Shops, won't it mean that a

few more of your friends will lose their lives? These men are fighting

for something they don't yet understand, but when they come back they'll

know more about it. Why not wait until George Pindar comes back?

RENCH. He mayn't never come back.

DR. JONATHAN. Give him the opportunity.

RENCH. I like George,--he's always been friendly--what we call a common

man up here in New England--naturally democratic. But at bottom

employers is all alike. What makes you think he won't take his ideas

about labour from the old man?

DR. JONATHAN. Because he belongs to the generation that fights this war.

HILLMAN (shuffling). It ain't no use, doctor. Unless you can bring Mr.

Pindar 'round, the shops'll close down.

DR. JONATHAN. I can't, but something else can.

HILLMAN. What?

DR. JONATHAN. Circumstances. No man can swim up stream very long in

these days, Hillman. Wait a while, and see.

RENCH (rising). We've voted to put this strike through, and by God,

we'll do it.

FERSEN (rising and shaking hands with DR. JONATHAN). It's fine weather,

doctor.

RENCH (bursting into a laugh). He's like the man who said, when Congress

declared war, "It's a fine day for it!" It's a fine day for a strike!

HILLMAN (who has risen, shaking hands with DR. JONATHAN). But you'll

talk to Mr. Pindar, anyway?

DR. JONATHAN (smiling). Yes, I'll talk with him.

(Enter TIMOTHY FARRELL, right, in working clothes.)

TIMOTHY. Good morning, doctor. (Surveying the committee.) So it's here

ye are, after voting to walk out of the shops just when we're beginning

to turn out the machines for the soldiers!

RENCH. If we'd done right we'd have called the strike a year ago.

TIMOTHY. Fine patriots ye are--as I'm sure the doctor is after telling

you--to let the boys that's gone over there be murdered because ye must

have your union!

HILLMAN. If Mr. Pindar recognizes the union, Timothy, we'll go to work

tomorrow.

TIMOTHY. He recognize the union! He'll recognize the devil first! Even

Dr. Jonathan, with all the persuasion he has, couldn't get Mr. Pindar to

recognize the union. He'll close down the shops, and it's hunting a job

I'll be, and I here going on thirty years.

RENCH. If he closes the shops--what then? The blood of the soldiers'll

be on his head, not ours. If there were fewer scabs in the country--

HILLMAN. Hold on, Sam.

TIMOTHY. A scab, is it? If I was the government do you know what I'd do

with the likes of you--striking in war time? I'd send ye over there to

fight the Huns with your bare fists. I'm a workman meself, but I don't

hold with traitors.

RENCH. Who's a traitor? It's you who are a traitor to your class. If a

union card makes a man a traitor, your own son had one in his pocket the

day he enlisted.

TIMOTHY. A traitor, and he fighting for his country, while you'd be

skulking here to make trouble for it!

(MINNIE appears on the threshold of the door, right. DR. JONATHAN,

who is the first to perceive from her expression that there is

something wrong, takes a step toward her. After a moment's silence

she comes up to TIMOTHY and lays a hand on his arm.)

TIMOTHY (bewildered). What is it, Minnie?

MINNIE. Come home, father.

TIMOTHY. What is it? It's not a message ye have--it's not a message

about Bert?

(MINNIE continues to gaze at him.)

The one I'd be looking for these many days! (He seizes her.) Can't ye

speak, girl? Is the boy dead?

MINNIE. Yes, father.

TIMOTHY (puts his hand to his forehead and lets fall his hat.

DR. JONATHAN picks it up). Me boy! The dirty devils have killed him!

MINNIE. Come, father, we'll go home.

TIMOTHY. Home, is it? It's back to the shops I'm going. (To the

committee) Damn ye--we'll run the shops in spite of ye! Where's me hat?

(DR. JONATHAN hands it to him as the committee file out in silence.)

Come with me as far as the shops, Minnie. Thank you, doctor--(as DR.

JONATHAN gives him the hat)--it's you I'll be wanting to see when I get

me mind again.

(DR. JONATHAN goes with TIMOTHY and MINNIE as far as the door,

right, and then comes back thoughtfully to the bench, takes up a

test tube and holds it to the, light. Presently ASHER PINDAR

appears in the doorway, right.)

ASHER. Good morning, Jonathan.

DR. JONATHAN. Good morning, Asher. I didn't know you'd got back from

Washington.

ASHER. I came in on the mail train.

DR. JONATHAN. Have you been to the office?

ASHER. No. I stopped at the house to speak to Augusta, and then--(he

speaks a trifle apologetically)--well, I went for a little walk.

DR. JONATHAN. A walk.

ASHER. I've been turning something over in my mind. And the country

looked so fine and fresh I crossed the covered bridge to the other side

of the river. When George was a child I used to go over there with him

on summer afternoons. He was such a companionable little shaver--he'd

drop his toys when he'd see me coming home from the office. I can see

him now, running along that road over there, stopping to pick funny

little bouquets--the kind a child makes, you know--ox-eyed daisies and

red clover and buttercups all mixed up together, and he'd carry them home

and put them in a glass on the desk in my study.

(A pause.)

It seems like yesterday! It's hard to realize that he's a grown man,

fighting over there in the trenches, and that any moment I may get a

telegram, or be called to the telephone--Have you seen today's paper?

DR. JONATHAN. No.

ASHER. It looks like more bad news,--the Germans have started another

one of those offensives. I was afraid they were getting ready for it.

West of Verdun this time. And George may be in that sector, for all I

know. How is this thing going to end, Jonathan? That damned military

machine of theirs seems invincible--it keeps grinding on. Are we going

to be able to stem the tide, or to help stem it with a lot of raw youths.

They've only had a year's training.

DR. JONATHAN. Germany can't win, Asher.

ASHER. What makes you say that? We started several years too late.

Dr. JONATHAN. And Germany started several centuries too late.

ASHER. My God, I hope you're right. I don't know.

(He walks once or twice up and down the room..)

I've had another letter.

DR. JONATHAN. This morning?

ASHER. No--I got it before I left for Washington. But I didn't bring it

in to you I wanted to think about it.

(He draws the letter, together with a folded paper, from his pocket,

and lays the paper down on the bench. Then he adjusts his glasses

and begins to read.)

"Dear dad,

"The sky is the colour of smeared charcoal. We haven't been in the

trenches long enough to evolve web feet, so mine are resting on a duck

board spread over a quagmire of pea soup. The Heinies are right here,

soaking in another ditch beyond a barbed wire fence, about the distance

of second base from the home plate. Such is modern war!

"But these aren't the things that trouble me. Last night, when I was wet

to the skin and listening to the shells--each singing its own song in the

darkness--I was able to think with astonishing ease better than if I were

sitting at a mahogany desk in a sound proof room! I was thinking over

the talk we had the day I left home,--do you remember it?--about the real

issue of this war. I've thought of it time and again, but I've never

written you about it. Since I have been in France I have had a liberal

education gathered from all sorts and conditions of men. Right here in

the trench near me are a street car conductor, a haberdasher, a Swedish

farm hand, a grocery clerk, a college professor, a Pole from the Chicago

Stock Yards, an Irish American janitor of a New York apartment house, and

Grierson from Cleveland, whose father has an income of something like a

million a year. We have all decided that this is a war for the under

dog, whether he comes from Belgium or Armenia or that so-called land of

Democracy, the United States of America. The hope that spurs us on and

makes us willing to endure these swinish surroundings and die here in the

mud, if need be, is that the world will now be reorganized on some

intelligent basis; that Grierson and I, if we get back, won't have to rot

on a large income and petrified ideas, but will have some interesting and

creative work to do. Economic inequalities must be reduced, and those

who toil must be given a chance to live, not merely to exist. Their

lives must include a little leisure, comfortable homes, art and beauty

and above all an education that none of us, especially those of us who

went to universities, never got,--but which now should be available for

all.

"The issue of this war is industrial democracy, without which political

democracy is a farce. That sentence is Dr. Jonathan's. But when I was

learning how to use the bayonet from a British sergeant in Picardy I met

an English manufacturer from Northumberland. He is temporarily an

officer. I know your opinion of theorists, but this man is working out

the experiment with human chemicals. After all, the Constitution of the

United States, now antiquated and revered, once existed only in the

brains of French theorists! In the beginning was the Word, but the deed

must follow. This Englishman, whose name is Wray, has given me the

little pamphlet he wrote from his experience, and I shall send it to you.

"Though I am writing this letter in what to me is a solemn and

undoubtedly exalted hour, I am sure that my mind was never clearer or

saner. Dad, I have set my heart on inaugurating an experiment in

industrial democracy in Foxon Falls! I'd like to be able to think--if

anything happened to me--that the Pindar shops were among the first in

America to recognize that we are living in a new era and a changed

world."

(ASHER walks over to the bench and lays down the open letter on it.)

If anything should happen to that boy, Jonathan, there wouldn't be

anything in life left for me! Industrial democracy! So you put that

into his head! Socialism, I suppose.

DR. JONATHAN. No, experimental science.

ASHER. Call it what you like. What surprises me is, when I look back

over the months you've been here, how well we've got along in spite of

your views.

DR. JONATHAN. Why not say in spite of yours, Asher?

ASHER (smiling involuntarily). Well, it's been a comfort to drop in here

and talk to you, in spite of what you believe. You've got the gift of

sympathy, Jonathan. But I don't approve of you're spending your time in

this sort of work--(he waves a hand toward the bench)--which may never

come to anything, and in doctoring people for nothing and patching up

their troubles. I daresay you enjoy it, but what worries me is how you

are going to live?

DR. JONATHAN. By practising your cardinal virtue, thrift.

ASHER. I've got a proposal to make to you part of a scheme I've been

turning over in my mind for the last six months--and when George's letter

came I decided to put it through. I went to New York and had Sterry, a

corporation lawyer, draw it up. I'm going to prove I'm not a mossback.

It will reorganize the Pindar Shops.

DR. JONATHAN. Well, that's good news.

ASHER. First, with reference to your part in it, I shall establish a

free hospital for my employees, and put you in charge of it, at a salary

of five thousand a year. After all, you're the only Pindar left except

George, and I'm satisfied that as a doctor you're up to the job, since

you've driven Dr. Senn out of business.

DR. JONATHAN. Practical proof, Asher. Fortunately Dr. Senn has enough

to live on.

ASHER. In offering you this position I have only one stipulation to

make--(he clears his throat)--it's about Minnie Farrell. I think the

world of Timothy, I wouldn't willingly hurt his feelings, but I can't

have Minnie with you in the hospital, Jonathan. You deserve a great deal

of credit for what you've done for the girl, you've kept her out of

mischief, but considering her past, her life at Newcastle--well, even if

I approved of having her in the hospital Augusta would never hear of it.

And then she had some sort of an affair with George--I daresay there was

nothing wrong--

DR. JONATHAN. Wrong is a question of code, Asher. We've all had pasts

--What interests me is Minnie's future.

ASHER. Of course you wouldn't decline my offer on Minnie's account.

DR. JONATHAN. On my own account, Asher. We'll say no more about Minnie.

ASHER. You refuse to help me, when I'm starting out on a liberal scheme

which I thought you would be the first to endorse?

DR. JONATHAN. I have not refused to help you,--but you have not told me

the scheme?

ASHER. Well. (He' taps the paper in his hand.) For those employees who

serve me faithfully I have arranged pensions.

DR. JONATHAN. For those, in other words, who refrain from taking their

destinies in their own hands, and who do as you wish.

ASHER. For those who are industrious and make no trouble. And I have

met the objection that they have no share in the enterprise by allowing

them, on favourable terms, to acquire stock in the company.

DR. JONATHAN. I see. You will let them acquire half of the stock, in

order that they may have an equal voice.

ASHER. Equal? It's my company, isn't it?

DR. JONATHAN. At present.

ASHER. I supply the capital. Furthermore, I have arranged for a system

of workmen's committees, which I recognize, and with which I will

continually consult. That's democratic enough--isn't it? If the men

have any grievances, these will be presented in an orderly manner through

the committees.

DR. JONATHAN. And if you find the demands--reasonable, you grant them.

ASHER. Certainly. But one thing I set my face against as a matter of

principle, I won't recognize the unions.

DR. JONATHAN. But--who is to enforce the men's side of this contract?

ASHER. What do you mean?

DR. JONATHAN. What guarantee have they, other than a union organization,

that you will keep faith?

ASHER. My word.

DR. JONATHAN. Oh!

ASHER. Never in my life have I regarded my possessions as my own. I am

a trustee.

DR. JONATHAN. The sole trustee.

ASHER. Under God.

DR. JONATHAN. And you have God's proxy. Well, it seems to me that that

is a very delightful arrangement, Asher--William appears to approve of

it, too.

ASHER. William? William who?

DR. JONATHAN. William Hohenzollern.

ASHER. You compare me to the Kaiser!

DR. JONATHAN. Only in so far as you have in common a certain

benevolence, Asher. Wouldn't your little plan, if your workmen accepted

it, keep you in as a benevolent autocrat?

ASHER. Me? an autocrat?

DR. JONATHAN. You are preparing to give your men more privileges, and

perhaps more money on the condition that they will renounce rights to

which they are entitled as free men. You are ready to grant anything but

a constitution. So is William.

ASHER. Do you seriously suggest that I give labour a voice in my

business?

DR. JONATHAN. Doesn't George suggest it, when he pleads for industrial

democracy? He seems to think that he is ready to give his life for it.

And Bert Farrell has already given his life for it.

ASHER (agitatedly). What? Timothy's boy, Bert? Is he dead? Why didn't

you tell me?

DR. JONATHAN (gently). I've had no chance. Minnie and Timothy were here

just before you came in.

ASHER. Oh God, I'm sorry--I'm sorry for Timothy. It might have been

--I'll go and see Timothy. Where is he?--at his house.

DR. JONATHAN. No, at the shops. He wanted to keep working until they

close down.

ASHER (who has started for the door, right, turns). What do you mean?

(There is a knock at the door.)

DR. JONATHAN. I mean that the moment has come, Asher, to remember

George. That your opportunity is here--heed it.

ASHER. I can't, I won't desert my principles

(The knock is repeated. DR. JONATHAN goes to the door and opens it.

Enter, in the order named, HILLMAN, RENCH and FERSEN.)

HILLMAN. Beg your pardon, Mr. Pindar, we've been waiting for you at the

office, and we heard you was here.

ASHER ( facing them with a defiance almost leonine). Well, what is it?

HILLMAN (glancing at DR. JONATHAN). There's a matter we'd like to talk

over with you, Mr. Pindar, as soon as convenient.

ASHER. This is as convenient as any time, right now.

HILLMAN. The men voted to strike, last night. Maybe Dr. Jonathan has

told you.

ASHER. Voted to strike behind my back while I was in Washington

attending to the nation's business!

RENCH. It ain't as if this was anything new, Mr. Pindar, as if we hadn't

been discussing this here difference for near a year. You've had your

warning right along.

ASHER. Didn't I raise your wages last January?

HILLMAN. Wait a minute, Mr. Pindar. (He looks at DR. JONATHAN.) It

oughtn't to be only what you say--what capital says. Collective

bargaining is only right and fair, now that individual bargaining has

gone by. We want to be able to talk to you as man to man,--that's only

self-respecting on our part. All you've got to do is to say one word,

that you'll recognize the union, and I'll guarantee there won't be any

trouble.

RENCH. If you don't, we walk out at noon.

HILLMAN (with an attempt at conciliation). I know if we could sit down

and talk this thing out with you, Mr. Pindar, you'd see it reasonable.

ASHER. Reasonable? Treasonable, you mean,--to strike when the lives of

hundreds of thousands of your fellow countrymen depend on your labour.

RENCH. We ain't striking--you're striking!

FERSEN (nodding). That's right!

RENCH. We're ready to go back to work this afternoon if you treat us

like Americans. (FERSEN nods.) You say we're obstructing the war by not

giving in,--what's the matter with you giving in? Ain't the employers

just as much traitors as we?

HILLMAN. Hold on, Sam,--we won't get nowhere by calling names. Let's

discuss it cool!

ASHER. I refuse to discuss it.

(He takes the paper out of his docket and holds it up.)

Do you see this paper? It's a plan I had made, of my own free will, for

the betterment and advancement of the working class. It was inspired by

the suggestion of my son, who is now fighting in France. I came back to

Foxon Falls this morning happy in the hope that I was to do something to

encourage what was good in labour--and how have I been met? With a

demand, with a threat. I was a fool to think you could stand decent

treatment!

(He seizes the paper, and tears it in two.)

HILLMAN. Wait a minute, Mr. Pindar. If you won't listen to us, maybe

Dr. Jonathan would say a word for us. He understands how we feel.

ASHER (savagely tearing the paper in two, and then again in four).

That's my answer! I won't have Dr. Pindar or anyone else interfering in

my private affairs.

RENCH. All right--I guess we're wasting time here, boys. We walk out

and stay out. (Threateningly.) Not a shaft'll turn over in them shops

until you recognize the union. And if that's treason, go back to

Washington and tell 'em so. Come on boys!

(He walks out, followed by FERSEN, nodding, and lastly by HILLMAN,

who glances at DR. JONATHAN. ASHER stares hard at them as they

leave. Then an expression of something like agony crosses his

face.)

ASHER. My God, it's come! My shops shut down, for the first time in my

life, and when the government relies on me!

(DR. JONATHAN stoops down and picks up the fragments of the document

from the floor.)

What are you doing?

DR. JONATHAN. Trying to save the pieces, Asher.

ASHER. I've got no use for them now.

DR. JONATHAN. But history may have.

ASHER. History. History will brand these men with shame for all time.

I'll fix 'em! I'll go back to Washington, and if the government has any

backbone, if it's still American, they'll go to work or fight!

(Pointedly.) This is what comes of your Utopian dreams, of your

socialism!

(A POLAK WOMAN is seen standing in the doorway, right.)

WOMAN. Doctor!

DR. JONATHAN. Yes.

WOMAN. My baby is seek--I think maybe you come and see him. Mrs.

Ladislaw she tell me you cure her little boy, and that maybe you come,

if I ask you.

DR. JONATHAN. Yes, I'll come. What is your name?

WOMAN. Sasenoshky.

DR. JONATHAN. Your husband is in the shops?

WOMAN. He was, doctor. Now he is in the American army.

DR. JONATHAN. Sasenoshky--in the American army.

WOMAN (proudly). Yes, he is good American now,--he fight to make them

free in the old country, too.

DR. JONATHAN. Well, we'll have a look at the baby. He may be in the

White House some day--President Sasenoshky! I'll be back, Asher.

(The noon whistle blows.)

ASHER. That's the signal! I'll get along, too.

DR. JONATHAN. Where are you going?

ASHER. I guess it doesn't make much difference where I go.

(He walks out, followed by DR. JONATHAN and the WOMAN. The room is

empty for a moment, and then MINNIE FARRELL enters through the

opposite door, left, from DR. JONATHAN'S office. She gazes around

the room, and then goes resolutely to the bench and takes up several

test tubes in turn, holding theme to the light. Suddenly her eye

falls on GEORGE'S letter, which ASHER has left open on the bench

with the envelope beside it. MINNIE Slowly reaches out and picks it

up, and then holds it to her lips . . . She still has the letter

in her hand, gazing at it, when AUGUSTA PINDAR enters, right.)

AUGUSTA. Oh, I thought Mr. Pindar was here!

MINNIE. Perhaps he's been here--I don't know. I just came in. (She

hesitates a second, then goes to the bench and lays the letter down.)

AUGUSTA. He must have been here,--he told me he was coming to talk with

Dr. Pindar.

(She approaches the bench and glances at the letter.)

Isn't that a letter from my son?

MINNIE (a little defiantly, yet almost in tears). I guess it is.

AUGUSTA. It was written to you?

MINNIE. No.

AUGUSTA. Then what were you doing with it?

MINNIE. I just--picked it up. You think I was reading it? Well, I

wouldn't.

AUGUSTA. Then how did you know it was written by my son?

(MINNIE is silent.)

You must be familiar with his handwriting. I think I'd better take it.

(She folds it up and puts it in the envelope.) Does George write to you?

MINNIE. I've had letters from him.

AUGUSTA. Since he went to France?

MINNIE. Yes.

AUGUSTA (after a pause). I've never approved of Dr. Findar employing you

here. I warned him against you--I told him that you would betray his

kindness as you betrayed mine, but he wouldn't listen to me. I told him

that a girl who was capable of drawing my son into an intrigue while she

was a member of the church and of my Bible class, a girl who had the

career you had in Newcastle, couldn't become a decent and trustworthy

woman. The very fact that you had the audacity to come back to Foxon

Falls and impose on Dr. Pindar's simplicity, proves it.

MINNIE. You know all about me, Mrs. Pindar.

AUGUSTA. I wasn't born yesterday.

MINNIE. Oh, ladies like you, Christian ladies, are hard! They won't

believe nothing good of anybody--only the bad. You've always been

sheltered, you've always had everything you'd want, and you come and

judge us working girls. You'd drive me out of the only real happiness

I ever had, being here with a man like Dr. Jonathan, doing work it's a

pleasure to do--a pleasure every minute!--work that may do good to

thousands of people, to the soldiers over there--maybe to George, for all

you know! (She burst into tears.) You can't understand--how could you?

After all, you're his mother. I oughtn't to forget it.

AUGUSTA. Yes, I'm his mother. And you? You haven't given up the idea

that he may marry you some day, if you stay here and pretend to have

reformed. You write to him. George may have been foolish, but he isn't

as foolish as that!

MINNIE. He doesn't care about me.

AUGUSTA. I'm glad you realize it. But you mean to stay here in Foxon

Falls, nevertheless. You take advantage of Dr. Pindar, who is easily

imposed upon, as his father was before him. But if I told you that you

might harm Dr. Pindar by staying here, interfere with his career, would

you be willing to leave?

MINNIE. Me? Me doing Dr. Jonathan harm?

AUGUSTA, Yes. I happen to know that he has very little money. He makes

none, he never asks anyone for a bill. He spends what he has on this

kind of thing--research, for the benefit of humanity, as he thinks,--but

very little research work succeeds, and even then it doesn't pay.

MINNIE. He doesn't care about money.

AUGUSTA. Perhaps not. He is one of those impractical persons who have

to be looked out for, if they are fortunate enough to have anyone to look

out for them. Since he is a cousin of my husband, Mr. Pindar considers

him as one of his many responsibilities. Mr. Pindar has always had, in a

practical way, the welfare of his working people at heart, and now he

proposes to establish a free hospital for them and to put Dr. Pindar in

charge of it. This will give him a good living as well as a definite

standing in the community, which he needs also.

MINNIE. He's the biggest man in Foxon Falls today!

AUGUSTA. That is as one thinks. At any rate, he has this opportunity.

Are you going to stand in the way of it?

MINNIE. Me stand in the way of it?

AUGUSTA. If Dr. Pindar accepts the place, you can't go with him,--you

will have to find some other position. Mr. Pindar is firm about that,

and rightly so. But I believe Dr. Pindar would be quite capable of

refusing rather than inconvenience anyone with whom he is connected.

MINNIE. You're right there!

AUGUSTA. He's quixotic.

MINNIE. If that's a compliment, you're right again.

AUGUSTA. It isn't exactly a compliment.

MINNIE. I guess you mean he's queer--but you're wrong--you're wrong!

He's the only man in Foxon Falls who knows what kind of a world we're

going to live in from now on. Why? Because he's a scientist, because

he's trained himself to think straight, because he understands people

like you and people like me. He don't blame us for what we do--he knows

why we do it.

(A pause.)

That's the reason I try not to blame you for being hard--you can't

understand a girl like me. You can't understand George.

AUGUSTA (white). We'll leave my son out of the conversation, if you

please. We were talking of Dr. Pindar. You seem to have some

consideration for him, at least.

MINNIE. I'd go to the electric chair for him!

AUGUSTA. I'm not asking you to do that.

MINNIE. You want me to go away and get another place. I remember a

lesson you gave us one day in Bible class, "Judge not, that you be not

judged,"--that was what you talked about. But you're judging me on what

you think is my record,--and you'd warn people against hiring me. If

everybody was a Christian like that these days, I'd starve or go on the

street.

AUGUSTA. We have to pay for what we do.

MINNIE. And you make it your business to see that we pay.

(A pause.)

Well, I'll go. I didn't know how poor Dr. Jonathan was,--he never said

anything about it to me. I'll disappear.

AUGUSTA. You have some good in you.

MINNIE. Don't begin talking to me about good!

(TIMOTHY FARRELL enters, right.)

TIMOTHY. Good morning, ma'am. (Looking at MINNIE and AUGUSTA). I came

to fetch Minnie to pass an hour with me.

AUGUSTA (agitated and taken aback). Were--were having a little talk.

(She goes up to TIMOTHY.) I'm distressed to hear about Bert!

TIMOTHY. Thank you for your sympathy, ma'am.

(A brief silence. Enter ASHER, right.)

ASHER (surveying the group). You here, Augusta? (He goes up to TIMOTHY

and presses his hand.) I wanted to see you, Timothy,--I understand how

you feel. We both gave our sons in this war. You've lost yours, and I

expect to lose mine.

AUGUSTA. Asher!

TIMOTHY. Don't say that, Mr. Pindar

ASHER. Why not? What right have I to believe, after what has happened

in my shops today, that he'll come back?

TIMOTHY. God forbid that he should be lost, too! There's trouble

enough--sorrow enough--

ASHER. Sorrow enough! But if a man has one friend left, Timothy, it's

something.

TIMOTHY (surprised). Sure, I hope it's a friend I am, sir,--a friend

this thirty years.

ASHER. We're both old fashioned, Timothy,--we can't help that.

TIMOTHY. I'm old fashioned enough to want to be working. And now that

the strike's on, whatever will I do? Well, Bert is after giving his life

for human liberty,--the only thing a great-hearted country like America

would be fighting for. There's some comfort in that! I think of him as

a little boy, like when he'd be carrying me dinner pail to the shops at

noon, runnin' and leppin' and callin' out to me, and he only that high!

ASHER. As a little boy!

TIMOTHY. Yes, sir, it's when I like to think of him best. There's a

great comfort in childher, and when they grow up we lose them anyway.

But it's fair beset I'll be now, with nothing to do but think of him.

ASHER. You can thank these scoundrels who are making this labour trouble

for that.

TIMOTHY. Scoundrels, is it? Scoundrels is a hard word, Mr. Pindar.

ASHER. What else are they? Scoundrels and traitors! Don't tell me that

you've gone over to them, Timothy--that you've deserted me, too! That

you sympathize with these agitators who incite class against class!

TIMOTHY. I've heard some of them saying, sir, that if the unions gain

what they're after, there'll be no classes at all at all. And classes

is what some of us didn't expect to find in this country, but freedom.

ASHER. Freedom! They're headed for anarchy. And they haven't an ounce

of patriotism.

TIMOTHY (meaningly). Don't say that, sir. Me own boy is after dying

over there, and plenty have gone out of your own shops, as ye can see for

yourself every time you pass under the office door with some of the stars

in the flag turning to gold. And those who stays at home and works

through the night is patriots, too. The unions may be no better than

they should be, but the working man isn't wanting anyone to tell him

whether he'd be joining them or not.

ASHER. I never expected to hear you talk like this!

TIMOTHY. Nor I, sir. But it's the sons, Mr. Pindar,--the childher that

changes us. I've been thinking this morning that Bert had a union card

in his pocket when he went away,--and if he died for that kind of

liberty, it's good enough for his old father to live for. I see how

wicked it was to be old fashioned.

ASHER. Wicked?

TIMOTHY. Isn't it the old fashioned nation we're fighting, with its

kings and emperors and generals that would crush the life and freedom

out of them that need life. And why wouldn't the men have the right to

organize, sir, the way that they'd have a word to say about what they'd

be doing?

ASHER. You--you ask me to sacrifice my principles and yield to men who

are deliberately obstructing the war?

TIMOTHY. Often times principles is nothing but pride, sir. And it might

be yourself that's obstructing the war, when with a simple word from you

they'd go on working.

ASHER (agitatedly). I can't, I won't recognize a labour union!

TIMOTHY. Have patience, sir. I know ye've a kind heart, and that ye've

always acted according to your light, the same as me. But there's more

light now, sir,--it's shining through the darkness, brighter than the

flashes of the cannon over there. In the moulding room just now it seems

to break all around me, and me crying like a child because the boy was

gone. There was things I hadn't seen before or if I saw them, it was

only dim-like, to trouble me (ASHER turns away) the same as you are

troubled now. And to think it's me that would pity you, Mr. Pindar! I

says to myself, I'll talk to him. I ain't got no learning, I can't find

the words I'm after--but maybe I can persuade him it ain't the same world

we're living in.

ASHER. I was ready to recognize that. Before they came to me this

morning I had made a plan to reorganize the shops, to grant many

privileges.

TIMOTHY. You'll excuse me, sir, but it's what they don't want,--anyone

to be granting them privileges, but to stand on their own feet, the same

as you. I never rightly understood until just now,--and that because I

was always looking up, while you'd be looking down, and seeing nothing

but the bent backs of them. It's inside we must be looking, sir,--and

God made us all the same, you and me, and Mr. George and my son Bert, and

the Polak and his wife and childher. It's the strike in every one of us,

sir,--and half the time we'd not know why we're striking!

ASHER. You're right there, Timothy

TIMOTHY. But that makes no difference, sir. It's what we can't be

reasoning, but the nature in us all--

(He flings his arm toward the open windows.)

--like the flowers and the trees in the doctor's garden groping to the

light of the sun. Maybe the one'll die for lack of the proper soil, and

many is cruelly trampled on, but the rest'll be growing, and none to stop

'em.

ASHER (pacing to the end of the room, and turning). No, I won't listen

to it! You--you ask me to yield to them, when you have lost your son,

when they're willing to sacrifice--to murder my son on the field of

battle?

(He pauses and looks toward the doorway, right. DR. JONATHAN

standing there, holding in his hand a yellow envelope. ASHER

starts forward.)

A telegram? For me?

DR. JONATHAN. Yes, Asher.

(After giving it to ASHER, DR. JONATHAN takes his stand beside

MINNIE, who is at the back of the room, near the bench. He lays a

hand on her arm. ASHER tears open the envelope and stares at the

telegram, his hands trembling.)

ASHER (exclaiming, in a half whisper). George!

AUGUSTA. Oh Asher, not--not--!

(She reaches for the telegram. He gives it to her. She reads.)

"Captain George Pindar severely wounded, condition critical."

TIMOTHY. Please God he'll be spared to ye!

CURTAIN.

ACT III

SCENE: Same as in Act I, the library of ASHER PINDAR'S house.

TIME:

The following day, early afternoon. A storm is raging, with wind

and rain and occasional bright flashes of lightning and heavy peals

of thunder. ASHER is pacing up and down the room, folding and

unfolding his hands behind his back, when AUGUSTA enters, lower

right, her knitting in her hand. There is a flash and a peal of

thunder.

AUGUSTA. Oh! Asher, did you know that the elm at the end of the Common

was struck just now?--that splendid old landmark!

ASHER. All the old landmarks are being struck down, one after another.

AUGUSTA (going up to him and putting her hand on his arm). I've been so

nervous all day. Do be careful how you go about during this strike.

Those sullen and angry groups of men on the street this morning--

ASHER. Oh, they wouldn't dare touch me. If we only had a state

constabulary we'd soon break that sort of thing up. But the Legislature

trembles whenever a labour leader opens his mouth.

AUGUSTA (sitting down and taking up her knitting). If only I could be

of some help to you! But it's always been so.

ASHER. You've been a good wife, Augusta!

AUGUSTA. I don't know. I've kept your house, I've seen that you were

well fed, but I've been thinking lately how little that is for a woman

--for a human being.

ASHER (surprised). Why, Augusta! I can't remember the time when you

haven't been busy. You've taken an active part in church work and looked

out for the people of the village.

AUGUSTA. Yes, and what has it all amounted to? The poor are ungrateful,

they won't go near the church, and today they're buying pianos. Soon

there won't be any poor to help.

ASHER. That's so. We'll be the paupers, if this sort of thing keeps on.

AUGUSTA. I've tried to do my duty as a Christian woman, but the world

has no use, apparently, for Christians in these times. And whenever you

have any really serious trouble, I seem to be the last person you take

into your confidence.

ASHER. I don't worry you with business matters.

AUGUSTA. Because you do not regard me as your intellectual equal.

ASHER. A woman has her sphere. You have always filled it admirably.

AUGUSTA. "Adorn" is the word, I believe.

ASHER. To hear you talk, one would think you'd been contaminated by

Jonathan. You, of all people!

AUGUSTA. There seems to be no place for a woman like me in these days,

--I don't recognize the world I'm living in.

ASHER. You didn't sleep a wink last night, thinking of George.

AUGUSTA. I've given up all hope of ever seeing him again alive.

(Enter DR. JONATHAN, lower right. His calmness is in contrast to

the storm, and to the mental states of ASHER and AUGUSTA.)

Why, Jonathan, what are you doing out in this storm?

DR. JONATHAN. I came to see you, Augusta.

AUGUSTA (knitting, trying to hide her perturbation at his appearance).

Did you? You might have waited until the worst was over. You still have

to be careful of your health, you know.

DR. JONATHAN (sitting down). There are other things more important than

my health. No later news about George, I suppose.

ASHER. Yes. I got another telegram early this morning saying that he

is on his way home on a transport.

DR. JONATHAN. On his way home!

ASHER. If he lives to arrive. I'll show you the wire. Apparently they

can't make anything out of his condition, but think it's shell shock.

This storm has been raging along the coast ever since nine o'clock, the

wires are down, but I did manage to telephone to New York and get hold of

Frye, the shell-shock specialist. In case George should land today,

he'll meet him.

DR. JONATHAN. Frye is a good man.

ASHER. George is hit by a shell and almost killed nearly a month ago,

and not a word do I hear of it until I get that message in your house

yesterday! Then comes this other telegram this morning. What's to be

said about a government capable of such inefficiency? Of course the

chances of his landing today are small, but I can't leave for New York

until tonight because that same government sends a labour investigator

here to pry into my affairs, and make a preliminary report. They're

going to decide whether or not I shall keep my property or hand it over

to them! And whom do they send? Not a business man, who's had practical

experience with labour, but a professor out of some university,--a

theorist!

DR. JONATHAN. Awkward people, these professors. But what would you do

about it, Asher? Wall up the universities?

ASHER. Their trustees, who are business men, should forbid professors

meddling in government and politics. This fellow had the impudence to

tell me to my face that my own workmen, whom I am paying, aren't working

for me. I'm only supposed to be supplying the capital. We talk about

Germany being an autocracy it's nothing to what this country has become!

DR. JONATHAN (smiling). An autocracy of professors instead of business

men. Well, every dog has his day. And George is coming home.

ASHER. And what is there left to hand over to him if he lives? What

future has the Pindar Shops,--which I have spent my life to build up?

DR. JONATHAN. If George lives, as we hope, you need not worry about the

future of the Pindar Shops, I think.

AUGUSTA. If God will only spare him!

ASHER. I guess I've about got to the point where I don't believe that a

God exists.

(A flash and a loud peal of thunder.)

AUGUSTA. Asher

ASHER. Then let Him strike me!

(He hurries abruptly out of the door, left.)

AUGUSTA (after a silence). During all the years of our married life, he

has never said such a thing as that. Asher an atheist!

DR. JONATHAN. So was Job, Augusta,--for a while.

AUGUSTA (avoiding DR. JONATHAN'S glance, and beginning to knit). You

wanted to speak to me, Jonathan?

(The MAID enters, lower right.)

MAID. Timothy Farrell, ma'am.

(Exit maid, enter TIMOTHY FARRELL.)

AUGUSTA. I'm afraid Mr. Pindar can't see you just now, Timothy.

TIMOTHY. It's you I've come to see, ma'am, if you'll bear with me,

--who once took an interest in Minnie.

AUGUSTA. It is true that I once took an interest in her, Timothy, but

I'm afraid I have lost it. I dislike to say this to you, her father, but

it's so.

TIMOTHY. Don't be hard on her, Mrs. Pindar. She may have been wild-

like in Newcastle, but since she was back here to work for the doctor

she's been a good girl, and that happy I wouldn't know her, and a comfort

to me in me old age,--what with Bert gone, and Jamesy taken to drink!

And now she's run away and left me alone entirely, with the shops closed,

and no work to do.

AUGUSTA (knitting). She's left Foxon Falls?

TIMOTHY (breaking down for a moment). When I woke up this morning I

found a letter beside me bed--I'm not to worry, she says and I know how

fond of me she was--be the care she took of me. She's been keeping

company with no young man--that I know. If she wasn't working with the

doctor on that discovery she'd be home with me.

AUGUSTA. I'm sorry for you, Timothy, but I don't see what I can do.

TIMOTHY. I minded that you were talking to her yesterday in the

lab'rat'ry, before the telegram came about Mr. George.

AUGUSTA. Well?

TIMOTHY. It was just a hope, ma'am, catching at a straw-like.

AUGUSTA (tightening her lips). I repeat that I'm sorry for you, Timothy.

I have no idea where she has gone.

TIMOTHY (looking at her fixedly. She pauses in her knitting and returns

his look). Very well, ma'am--there's no need of my bothering you.

You've heard nothing more of Mr. George?

AUGUSTA (with sudden tears). They're sending him home.

TIMOTHY. And now that ye're getting him back, ma'am, ye might think with

a little more charity of her that belongs to me--the only one I'd have

left.

(TIMOTHY goes out, lower right. AUGUSTA is blinded by tears. She

lets fall her ball of wool. DR. JONATHAN picks it up.)

AUGUSTA. I try to be fair in my judgments, and true to my convictions,

but what Minnie has done cannot be condoned.

DR. JONATHAN (sitting down beside AUGUSTA) And what has Minnie done,

Augusta?

AUGUSTA. You ask me that? I try hard to give you credit, Jonathan, for

not knowing the ways of the world--but it's always been difficult to

believe that Minnie Farrell had become well--a bad woman.

DR. JONATHAN. A bad woman. I gather, then, that you don't believe in

the Christian doctrines of repentance and regeneration.

AUGUSTA (bridling). The leopard doesn't change his spots. And has she

shown any sign of repentance? Has she come to me and asked my pardon for

the way in which she treated me? Has she gone to church and asked God's

forgiveness? But I know you are an agnostic, Jonathan,--it grieves me.

I couldn't expect you to see the necessity of that.

DR. JONATHAN. If it hadn't been for Minnie, I shouldn't have been able

to achieve a discovery that may prove of value to our suffering soldiers,

as well as to injured operatives in factories. In spite of the news of

her brother's death, Minnie worked all afternoon and evening. It was

midnight when we made the successful test, after eight months of

experiment.

AUGUSTA. I hope the discovery may be valuable. It seems to me that

there is too much science in these days and too little religion. I've

never denied that the girl is clever.

DR. JONATHAN. But you would deny her the opportunity to make something

of her cleverness because in your opinion; she has broken the Seventh

Commandment. Is that it?

AUGUSTA. I can't listen to you when you talk in this way.

DR. JONATHAN. But you listen every Sunday to Moses--if it was Moses?

--when he talks in this way. You have made up your mind, haven't you, that

Minnie has broken the Commandment?

AUGUSTA. I'm not a fool, Jonathan.

DR. JONATHAN. You are what is called a good woman. Have you proof that

Minnie is what you would call a bad one?

AUGUSTA. Has she ever denied it? And you heard her when she stood up in

this room and spoke of her life in Newcastle.

DR. JONATHAN. But no court of law would convict her on that.

AUGUSTA. And she had an affair with George. Oh, I can't talk about it!

DR. JONATHAN. I'm afraid that George will wish to talk about it, when he

comes back.

AUGUSTA, She's been corresponding with George--scheming behind my back.

DR. JONATHAN. Are you sure of that?