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American Dramatists Series 
 
 DOLLARS AND 
 SENSE 
 
 A Story in Four Acts 
 BY 
 
 OTTO J. KRAEMER 
 
 and 
 
 LESTER W. HUMPHREYS 
 
 BOSTON: THE GORHAM PRESS 
 
 TORONTO: THE COPP CLARK CO., LIMITED 
 
Copyright, 1915, by Otto J. Kraemer and Lester W. Humphreys 
 
 All Rights Reserved 
 
 
 The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A. 
 
 OEC -91915 
 
 g)CI.D 42446 
 
To those whose language and ideas we 
 have so freely borrowed, and to 
 Lucile Harlow 
 as perfect a dimpled little brown- 
 eyed darling as ever lived, 
 this book is dedicated. 
 
DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 A Story in Four Acts 
 
CHARACTERS 
 
 Fr. — Dr. Frank Mason, a physician. 
 Ann — Ann Chandler, sister of George. 
 Lord N. — Lord Nowit, an English nobleman. 
 Geo. — George Chandler, banker, afterward gov- 
 ernor. 
 Luc. — Lucille, niece of George and Ann. (Age six) 
 Ruth — Ruth Williams. 
 Mrs. W. — Mrs. Williams, mother of Ruth. 
 J as. — Jasper Church. 
 Gus. — Augustus Geldmacher. 
 Nogi — Nogi, a Japanese servant. 
 Rob. — Robert Gray. 
 
DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 ACT I 
 
 San Francisco, Sunday afternoon, April 15, 1906, 
 2 P. M. Drawing-room in the home of George 
 Chandler. 
 
 (Frank meditating. Ann enters unobserved.) 
 
 Ann. Well, what profound thoughts you must 
 have. Is it a case of silent meditation fancy free ? 
 I would actually give you a penny for those thoughts. 
 
 Fr. Sold. The bargain's closed, and I'll trust 
 you for the penny. "I was thinking of running 
 waters, — how they their shores caress. How many 
 times in kisses sweet, my lips to yours were pressed. 
 How in all this wide, wide world I love you best 
 of any. Now don't you think my thoughts are 
 worth more than a penny?" 
 
 Ann. Certainly not. It was a case of my buying 
 a cat in a sack. But I'm a good loser. I'll pay 
 the penny. 
 
 Fr. Dearest, won't you ever be serious? 
 
 Ann. I am serious, but I have had such thoughts 
 from you time and time again for nothing. 
 
 Fr. And you think them good for nothing? 
 
 Ann. Yes, that's it. I think them good for 
 nothing and yet. No — 
 
 Fr. I should have added, that as I sat there in 
 thought profound, this maxim wise I drew: "It's 
 easier to love a girl, than make a girl love you." 
 
 Ann. Certainly, love is a thing you can't compel. 
 
 Fr. If ever a man loved a girl, I do you and you 
 
 9 
 
10 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 know It. Heaven bear witness that no love could 
 be more sincere. No one could revere you more. 
 I worship you. You are an angel upon earth, if ever 
 there was one. I can't live without you. I won't 
 live without you. I'll — I don't know what I'll do. 
 
 Ann. Probably continue your sublime and royal 
 life with kings and queens and their suits including 
 knaves, and try to drown your sorrows in whiskey. 
 
 Fr. I know I deserve that remark, but if you 
 would only promise to marry me, I'd never gamble 
 again and I'd never drink another drop. I could 
 then refrain, I swear it, but I can't without your 
 help, without your love. 
 
 Ann. You have had my help. You have my love. 
 
 Fr. Yes, your love without your confidence. 
 Your love without esteem. Your love as a duty. 
 You don't honor me. You don't cherish me. You 
 won't marry me. Ann, promise that if I don't 
 gamble and don't drink for one whole year, you 
 will then agree to become my wife. 
 
 Ann. Don't be foolish. I have not changed my 
 mind about that. Before I forget — and a— to a — 
 change the subject. Lord Nowit has asked me to 
 accompany him to the play next Thursday. He 
 wants to know if you will take Germain, in which 
 event he will get four seats together. Will you go ? 
 
 Fr. No, unless he takes Germain, or any one 
 else he sees fit, and you go with me. 
 
 Ann. I am going with Lord Nowit, so you will 
 not join us? 
 
 Fr. No, I will not join you. You know things 
 are commencing to dawn on me. "There Is no 
 disguise which can long feign love where love does 
 not exist, nor long conceal love where it does exist." 
 
ACT I II 
 
 You're in love with that Englishman. That's it! 
 That's the reason you treat me as you do. You're 
 in love with his highness or else you want to marry 
 a title. 
 
 Ann. I thank you for the information. I might 
 never have known of it but for your kindness. 
 And pray, good sir, does he love me? That is, do 
 you think he loves me? 
 
 Fr. You know he does. Candy, flowers, gifts 
 by the dozen to you and your charitable organiza- 
 tions, invitations to the theatre, and his every action 
 shows it. Fools and children cannot conceal the 
 truth, but I don't accuse him of being a child. 
 
 Ann. Then you think he loves me; and is that 
 why you consider him a fool ? 
 
 Fr. You know better than that, but all asses 
 haven't long ears, and if ever there was a blue- 
 blooded, short-cared one, he's it. He makes a fine 
 appearance, but he cannot look, nor stand, nor walk, 
 nor talk like a man of sense. 
 
 Ann. I suppose that's a trade-last. I will tell 
 him about it. 
 
 Fr. Tell him. I would like to have you do it 
 if I thought he would see the point, but you would 
 be wasting your breath. Honestly, I would like 
 nothing better than to buy his Lordship for what 
 he is worth as a man and sell him for what he thinks 
 he is worth. His percentage of manhood is about 
 twenty-three and in his own mind he's just a trifle 
 better than perfect. 
 
 Ann. There are others on whom the margin 
 would be quite high. 
 
 Fr. Thanks, if you mean that for me. 
 
 Ann. You are welcome, if you see fit to apply 
 
12 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 it. Our standard of manhood Is probably not the 
 same. Lord Nowit may not be very bright nor 
 highly educated, nor good looking, nor interesting, 
 but he has qualities of the heart that more than 
 make up for what he may lack in other respects. 
 His generosity has no bounds. 
 
 Fr. You are right about his generosity. I actual- 
 ly do believe that his heart is as thick as his head, 
 and that's saying much. 
 
 Ann. Conceding that he is rather dull, you 
 ought not jest at those who are simple, but rather 
 remember how much you are bound to God who 
 has made you so wise. 
 
 Fr. You are very sarcastic in the defense of his 
 Lordship. I need no better evidence that you love 
 him. 
 
 Ann. They do not love that do not show their 
 love. 
 
 Fr. I thought I never would be jealous of any 
 one, but your actions are making me insanely jeal- 
 ous. That shows how much I love you. 
 
 Ann. Jealousy extinguishes love. In jealousy 
 there is nothing but self love. 
 
 Fr. You'll drive me to madness. 
 
 Ann. Love may be madness, but madness is not 
 always love. 
 
 Fr. This is no jesting matter. You'll never 
 marry that Englishman while I am alive. 
 
 Ann. Never is a very, very long time. 
 
 Fr. If you refuse me, my blood will be upon 
 your head. I cannot live without you. 
 
 Ann. Well, self-preservation is the first law of 
 nature. I cannot live with you. Besides, you are 
 not trustworthy. 
 
ACT I 13 
 
 Fr. Why do you say that? 
 
 Ann, Last year you voiwed if I refused you, 
 you'd pine away and die, and now see how healthy 
 you look. 
 
 {Enter Maid.) 
 
 Maid. Lord Nowit. 
 
 Ann to maid. Show him in. {Exit maid.) 
 
 Ann to Fr. Lord Nowit is going with me to the 
 hospital. Tell him I'll be down right away. And 
 I'll promise you not to marry him until I've had 
 another talk with you, when you are in a better 
 humor. 
 
 {Exit Ann.) 
 
 Fr. There is not so agonizing a feeling in the 
 whole catalog of human suffering as the conviction 
 that the heart of the being whom we most tenderly 
 love is estranged from us. 
 
 "A mighty pain to love it is, 
 And 'tis a pain that pain to miss, 
 But of all pains the greatest pain, 
 It is to love and love in vain." 
 
 {Enter Lord N.) 
 
 Lord N. Ah! Frank. And how do you feel 
 to-day, dear boy? 
 
 Fr. I look well, thank you, if you are interested. 
 
 Lord N. That's good, I'm glad to hear it, you 
 know. Oh, I was told Miss Ann was in the room. 
 I don't see her. She's not in here, is she? Really, 
 she's not, is she? 
 
 Fr. You will certainly believe your eye in pref- 
 erence to anything I might say, won't you? For 
 you have such a fine eye. 
 
 Lord N. Thank you, of course. And you noticed 
 it immediately. I had a gold rim put around the 
 
14 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 glass, you know, because it gives such a dignified 
 appearance. It's wonderful, isn't it? 
 
 Fr. Yes, hardly believable. Marvelous, indeed. 
 If I am not asking a state secret, why do all in 
 your set wear one such glass? 
 
 Lord N. Well, it's a custom, you know. And 
 it's a sign, you know, that one belongs to the best 
 of English society, — to English aristocracy. If one 
 were indifferent to such matters, how could the 
 people tell that he belonged to the best society? 
 
 Fr. Give it up, unless you just put a tag on to 
 that effect. 
 
 Lord N. I don't think that a good suggestion; 
 really I don't. I prefer the glass, I do. I am sort 
 of nervous to-day. I feel like a fool to-day, really 
 I do. 
 
 Fr. But your thoughts seem calm and reason- 
 able. 
 
 Lord N. Thank you, ah, thank you. So kind 
 of you, really it is. By the way, what is the quickest 
 way to get to the — hospital? 
 
 Fr. Start without a second's delay. 
 
 Lord N. No, you don't understand, you know. 
 I mean what is the quickest way to get there by 
 train ? 
 
 Fr. Take the fast one. 
 
 Lord N. Oh, of course, but to what depot do 
 I go? 
 
 Fr. Oh, just go to — well, to the S. P. Depot. 
 
 Lord N. Thank you. Do you know when the 
 last train goes to Sacramento? 
 
 Fr. You should live so long. 
 
 Lord N. I do not comprehend you. 
 
 Fr. I said you should live so long. ^^ 
 
ACT I 15 
 
 Lord N. I asked when the last train goes to 
 Sacramento. 
 
 Fr. I replied, you should live so long. 
 
 Lord N. I understand what you say, but I don't 
 understand what you mean, really. 
 
 Fr. You wouldn't get a joke if it were fired at 
 you from a cannon. 
 
 Lord N. Why, that's foolish, you know. They 
 don't fire jokes from guns, do they? I must go to 
 Sacramento to attend to some affairs of my uncle's 
 estate. 
 
 Fr. By the way, I heard that you want to sell 
 your uncle's automobile. 
 
 Lord N. Yes, I would like very much to do so. 
 I am very anxious to sell it. 
 
 Fr. What price are you asking for it? 
 
 Lord N. Well, really, I would not like to set 
 any price on the car to-day, because it is Sunday. 
 
 Fr. Well, suppose this were Monday, what 
 would you ask for the car? 
 
 Lord N. Oh, if this were Monday, I would set 
 a price of Two Thousand Dollars on it. 
 
 Fr. Well, if this were Monday, I would take it. 
 
 Lord N. Very good. I will send the car 
 around in the morning. I never transact business 
 on Sunday. 
 
 Fr. Do you find the business of the estate oner- 
 
 ous 
 
 Lord N. Oh, exacting in the extreme, you know. 
 They pester me so that at times I almost wish my 
 uncle hadn't died. There are a lot of blighters who 
 took me for a duffer, and tried to over-reach me in 
 some business matters. But they found that I 
 wasn't such a bounder as they took me for. I got 
 
i6 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 the better of them, even though they were a lot of 
 sharpers. They found that I know a few things. 
 
 Fr. Yes, I guess about as few as anybody. But 
 I imagine you are getting rather conceited over it. 
 
 Lord N. Oh, nothing of the sort. I know I 
 am not a bit conceited. You know, I don't think 
 I am half as smart as I really am. 
 
 Fr. But all extremely bright men are conceited, 
 an5rway. 
 
 Lord N. Oh, I don't think so. I'm not. 
 
 (Enter Ann.) 
 
 Ann. How do you do. Lord Nowit? You 
 gentlemen seem to have struck up quite a friendship. 
 I am delighted, indeed. 
 
 Lord N. I hope I see you well. I expected to 
 find you alone, from what the servant said. 
 
 Ann. I appreciate very much the beautiful flow- 
 ers you sent yesterday and the immense box of 
 candy sent to-day. In the words of the poet, permit 
 me to say: 
 
 "Thanks for the sweets, my sweeter friend, 
 Accept my sweetest thanks." 
 
 Lord N. For such thanks, I will send a box 
 every day. 
 
 Ann. No, please don't send me any more candy, 
 or flowers, or presents. I can't accept them. I— I 
 don't like presents. 
 
 Lord N. To-morrow you will get some crawfish 
 by express. I wired for them yesterday. 
 
 Ann. Some what? 
 
 Lord N. Crawfish, or crayfish. 
 
 Ann. I know that I have heard of them, but 1 
 don't remember what they are like. 
 
 Lord N' They are delicious to eat, you know. 
 
ACT I 17 
 
 They are little red beasts that walk backward. 
 
 Ann. I don't think I ever saw any. 
 
 Fr. You should remember them by the descrip- 
 tion Lord Nowit just gave. It's so accurate in all 
 but three particulars. First, they are not red ; 
 second they are not beasts; and third, they do not 
 walk backward. I showed you some in a market 
 when we were in Portland. 
 
 Lord N. I thank you, I am sure, for the slight 
 correction. You know a crawfish always reminded 
 me of a lobster. 
 
 Fr. Now that you mention it, I think in the 
 future a crawfish will always remind me of a lobster. 
 
 Lord N. Then it will be a case of great minds 
 running in the same channel. 
 
 Fr. Yes, unless we think of dififerent lobsters. 
 
 Ann. I think we had better be going to the hos- 
 pital. I will accept the crawfish, but remember, 
 nothing more. 
 
 Lord N. Aw, let's not quarrel about the future 
 now, don't you know. (To Fr.) Tell me, are 
 crawfish healthy? 
 
 Fr. I never heard any complain. 
 
 Lord N. Well, well, then they must be as 
 wholesome as oysters. Good-bye, dear boy. 
 
 Fr. Good-bye, dear man. Good-bye to you, 
 dear girl. Don't forget the promise you just made 
 me. 
 
 Ann. A bad promise might better be broken than 
 kept. But, I won't break mine. You'll not have 
 cause to sue me for breach of promise. Tell George 
 I've gone to the hospital and will be back at 4.30. 
 (To Lord N.) May I help you on with your 
 overcoat ? 
 
i8 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Lord N. No, thanks. It's silk lined and goes 
 on easy. 
 
 (Exit Ann and Lord N.) 
 
 Fr. That girl seems to have a wonderful in- 
 fluence over me. Owing to her sentiments, liquor, 
 hunting and cards have lost half of their charm for 
 me. She has brought to the surface conscientious 
 scruples I never thought were in me. But I seem 
 to be possessed of an ample supply, judging from 
 the worry they are causing me. 
 
 "Oh, conscience, thou tremendous power, that 
 dost inhabit us without our leave. 
 Art within ourselves another self, a master self. 
 Yes, a master self that loves to domineer and 
 frankly treat the monarch as the slave." 
 
 Well she hasn't tabooed smoking. I think I'll 
 light my pipe. The more I fume, the less I seem 
 to fret. 
 
 (Curtain for one minute to denote lapse of t,wo 
 hours. Fr. still alone and reading.) 
 
 (Enter Lucille and Geo.) 
 
 Geo. Hello, Doctor. 
 
 Fr. Hello, George. Glad to see you. Ann 
 asked me to say that she has gone to the hospital 
 and will be back at 4:30. And how is Lucille? 
 What have you been doing to-day ? ( Takes Lucille 
 in arms and kisses her.) 
 
 Luc. Played with my dolly and my teddy bear. 
 
 Fr. And which do you like better? 
 
 Luc. I love my teddy bear the best, but please 
 don't tell my dolly. She's very beautiful, but she's 
 got no brains. 
 
 Fr. You know that if you don't love your dolly 
 as much as your teddy bear, I am afraid you love 
 
ACT I 19 
 
 your teddy bear more than me. Do you? 
 
 Luc. No, I don't. Oh, I just love you and love 
 you and love you. 
 
 Fr. I think you're just fooling me. 
 
 Luc, No, I'm not. 
 
 Fr. Well, why do you love me? 
 
 Luc. Because you is you. 
 
 Fr. That's surely a good reason for a young 
 lady. And how much do you love me? 
 
 Luc. O, way up to the sky and more than that. 
 Doctor, is the moon a hole in the sky for God to 
 look through? 
 
 Fr. No, dear, its — 
 
 Luc. Well, are the stars the moon's little babies ? 
 • Fr. No— 
 
 Luc. God's making another moon, aint he? 
 
 Fr. Yes, we will soon have a full moon. 
 
 Luc. But, Doctor, why don't he make a hot one ? 
 
 Fr. A what ? 
 
 Luc. A hot one. 
 
 Fr. I don't understand what you mean. 
 
 Luc. I would make one like the sun, a hot one. 
 Can't we telephone God to do it? 
 
 Fr. No one can telephone to him. 
 
 Luc. Haven't you got his picture? 
 
 Fr. No, dearest, he doesn't let any one see him, 
 but he sees and hears everyone and regulates every- 
 thing. He makes the trees and fruit grow. lie 
 makes the water flow. He makes the wind blow. 
 He— 
 
 Luc. Does God make the wind blow? 
 
 Fr. Yes. 
 
 Luc. Does it blow only when he breaves? 
 
 Fr. Oh, no. It is not his breathing. 
 
20 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Luc. Well, where does the wind go when it 
 quits blowing? 
 
 Fr. Where does the light go when we press the 
 button ? 
 
 Luc. It goes out. 
 
 Fr. That's right, it does go out. Now, I didn't 
 think of that. Well, the wind doesn't go out but 
 it 
 
 Luc. Did God make me? 
 
 Fr. Yes, certainly. 
 
 Luc. Well, he just made me a tiny little bit of 
 a thing and I growed the rest myself, didn't L 
 
 Fr. Yes. 
 
 Luc. Can God do anything? 
 
 Fr. Why, certainly. 
 
 Luc. Oh, I wish he would make me a little 
 three-year-old sister in a minute. 
 
 Fr. Here, how will this do instead? {Gives 
 fan.) 
 
 Luc. Oh, isn't that beautiful! See what Dr. 
 Mason gave me for a present. It's to brush the 
 warm ofiF with, aint it, doctor? 
 
 Geo. Well, well, Lucille, I am surprised at you. 
 You didn't thank the doctor for it. 
 
 Luc. Y-e-s I did, but I didn't tell him so. Doc- 
 tor I am awful much obliged. 
 
 Fr. Well, aren't you going to kiss me for it? 
 {Luc. kisses Dr.) 
 
 Fr. I don't think you like to kiss me any more, 
 do you Lucille ? 
 
 Luc. No. 
 
 Fr. You don't? 
 
 Luc. No. 
 
 Fr. Why? 
 
ACT I 21 
 
 Luc. Your kisses smell too smoky. When I 
 kiss you I wish I was deaf and dumb in my nose. 
 (Coughs.) 
 
 Fr. Don't cough, dear. It's bad for your throat. 
 
 Luc. I'm not coughing {coughs.) It's cough- 
 ing me. 
 
 Fr. Let me see your tongue. 
 
 Luc. {Shows tongue.) 
 
 Fr. Let me see more of it. Put your tongue 
 way out. 
 
 Luc. I can't. It's fastened at one end. 
 
 Fr. Well, hold still, you muggins, just one 
 minute. Oh, that looks fine. You just caught a 
 little cold and you will be all right to-morrow. Do 
 you remember how quickly I helped you last month 
 when you had that splinter? How did it happen? 
 I forget. 
 
 Luc. {Embarrassed.) Why, — I — I — I was sit- 
 ting on the fence and — and I — I moved. 
 
 Fr. Oh, yes, I remember now. 
 
 Luc. That didn't kill me, did it Doctor? 
 
 Fr. Certainly not. 
 
 Luc. Well, if it did, how would I know that I 
 was dead ? 
 
 Fr. God would tell you, dear. 
 
 Luc. Is Lord Nowit killed? 
 
 Fr. Is Lord Nowit killed ? Why certainly not. 
 
 Luc. Doctor have you got some medicine with 
 you? 
 
 Fr. No, why? 
 
 Luc. Won't you give Lord Nowit some, so he 
 won't die? 
 
 Fr. Why Lord Nowit isn't sick. I just met 
 him. What makes you think that he will die ? 
 
22 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Luc. Yes, he will, if you don't give him medi- 
 cine. I know he will. 
 
 Fr. Lucille, you mustn't say that. It's naughty, 
 and I don't understand why you say it. 
 
 Luc. He said so; then he's the naughty one. 
 
 Fr. Do you mean to say that Lord Nowit said 
 he would die? 
 
 Luc. Um hum. 
 
 Fr. When? 
 
 Luc. Yesterday. 
 
 Fr. To you? 
 
 Luc. No. 
 
 Fr. To whom did he say it? I don't think you 
 understood him. 
 
 Luc. Yes, I did. He told Aunt Ann that if 
 she wouldn't marry him, it would kill him, and she 
 said she wouldn't, and he just begged and begged; 
 so please give me some medicine for him. 
 
 Geo. You little wretch, where were you? 
 
 Luc. In the closet. 
 
 Geo. Well, what were you doing there? 
 
 Luc. Dolly don't like to sleep in the light, so 
 I put her in the closet and slept with her. 
 
 Geo. Frank, I think that you had better leave 
 some medicine for Lord Nowit. 
 
 Luc. Why do you call doctor — Frank? 
 
 Geo. Because that's his name, and — I've known 
 him for a long time. 
 
 Luc. Will you get some medicine for him, 
 Frank? 
 
 Geo. Why do you call him Frank? 
 
 Luc. Well, aint I known him for a long time? 
 
 Fr. That's certainly one on me. We'll see that 
 Lord Nowit gets his medicine, but I must be hurry- 
 
ACT I 23 
 
 ing along. I have to be at the maternity hospital 
 soon. 
 
 Luc. Aint that where they have tiny little 
 babies ? 
 
 Fr. Yes. 
 
 Luc. O, will they make you stay there and have 
 a baby? 
 
 Fr. You're the dearest muggins I ever met, and 
 I love you. Oh, so much, {hugs her.) I am sorry 
 that I gave you that smoky kiss, and I'll just take it 
 back. There, that's better, isn't it? 
 
 Luc. I don't know. It smells just the same 
 as when you gave it to me. 
 
 Fr. Well, you believe me when I say I love 
 you, don't you? 
 
 Luc. Yes, of course I do. 
 
 Fr. Everyone loves you. I wonder why it is. 
 Do you know? 
 
 Luc. No. 
 
 Fr. Don't you know? 
 
 Luc. I guess it's because I love everybody. 
 
 Fr. That's it. 
 
 Geo. Yes, that's it, that's it. Love everyone, 
 love everyone always, and everyone will always love 
 my darling. 
 
 Fr. If I leave you for a whole year, you won't 
 forget me, will you? 
 
 Luc. No, where are you going? 
 
 Fr. I may go to war if we have one. 
 
 Luc. Oh, I remember the stories you told me 
 about how they kill men in war. You wouldn't 
 kill the papa of a little girl like me, would you? 
 
 Fr. Of course not. 
 
 (Exit Fr.) {Lucille meditating.) 
 
24 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Geo. What are you thinking about? 
 
 Luc. Oh, I was thinking of old times. 
 
 Geo. Of old times? Tell me, what were you 
 doing so long ago as this morning? 
 
 Luc. I went to Sunday school, and then to the 
 farm for eggs with Aunt Ann. 
 
 Geo. Did you get any? 
 
 Luc. Yes, a big basket full. 
 
 Geo. Did you gather them? 
 
 Luc. No. 
 
 Geo. Why? Didn't you look in the nests for 
 them? 
 
 Luc. Yes, and there weren't any eggs in them. 
 But there were a lot of hens standing around doing 
 nothing. And there was one awful pretty hen they 
 called the game rooster. 
 
 Geo. Well, what did you learn at Sunday 
 School ? 
 
 Luc. They learned me about the ten command- 
 ments. 
 
 Geo. Are you sure there were ten of them? 
 
 Luc. Yes, I know there was. And they said 
 not to break them. 
 
 Geo. Suppose you did break one. What would 
 happen ? 
 
 Luc. Then there'd be only nine left, I guess. 
 
 Geo. Do you remember what we read last 
 night? 
 
 Luc. Yes, Uncle Tom's Cabin. 
 
 Geo. Which do you like better, hearing Uncle 
 Tom's Cabin read, or listening to your teacher tell 
 of the ten commandments ? 
 
 Luc. Uncle Tom's Cabin. But I forget Topsy's 
 last name. What was it? 
 
ACT I 25 
 
 Geo. Topsy had noi last name, dear. 
 
 Luc. Yes she has. I remember hearing it, a 
 long time ago. 
 
 Geo. Well, what was it? 
 
 Luc. I forgot — Oh, I remember now. It was 
 Topsy Turvy. If I get the book will you read some 
 more to me now? 
 
 Geo. Not until later. We will be having din- 
 ner soon, and you had better put your dolly to bed 
 before dinner. 
 
 {Maid announces Ruth and Mother.) 
 
 Luc. See where my knee is blue. 
 
 Geo. Does it hurt much? 
 
 Luc. No. 
 
 Geo. How did you get that ? 
 
 Luc. I fell out of bed last night. 
 
 Geo. How did that happen? 
 
 Luc. I guess I slept too near where I got in. 
 
 Geo. That's probably true. But the blue spot 
 will be gone by to-morrow, and I think you had 
 better run along. {Exit Luc.) 
 
 Geo. What gift has Providence bestowed upon 
 man that is so dear to him as children? 
 
 {Enter Ruth and mother.) 
 
 {Geo. greets mother and Ruth, shaking hands 
 with both at same time, holding Ruth's hand with 
 his left for few seconds.) 
 
 Geo. I am sorry Ann was not here to welcome 
 you. She expected to be, but she was unquestionably 
 detained at the hospital. She left word that she 
 would be back by 4:30, and she will no doubt re- 
 turn in a few minutes. 
 
 Mrs. W. You need not apologize. I am rather 
 glad we found you alone. I ought rather to apolo- 
 
26 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 gize to you for talking business when calling foi 
 dinner, but it is so hard to get an opportunity at 
 your office. I want to ask your advice about an offer 
 I have had for my bank stock. Do you mind? 
 
 Geo. Certainly not. I regard it as a compli- 
 ment that you value my opinion on such matters. 
 I am always at your service, and you must not 
 hesitate to command me at any time. 
 
 Mrs. W. I never have and am sure I never will. 
 What I wanted to ask you about is this. Jasper 
 has been wanting to buy my bank stock, and I re- 
 fused to sell. He has been offering more and more, 
 until yesterday he offered three times the par value 
 of it. Do you think I ought to sell it ? One reason 
 why I was so anxious to ask you was that he par- 
 ticularly desired me not to say anything to you 
 about it. 
 
 Geo. My answer is, yes and no. Yes for your 
 sake; no for mine. Frankly, the stock is not worth 
 anywhere near the price he has offered. If you can 
 get that for it, you will be making a most excellent 
 sale. You understand that I own forty-five per 
 cent of the bank stock. Jasper owns forty per 
 cent. You have five per cent, and Smith and 
 Brown have the remainder. Jasper is apparently 
 trying to get control of the bank, and for that reason 
 has offered you such a high price for your stock, 
 which would make his holdings equal to mine. 
 Rather than have you sell it to Jasper, I will give 
 you the same amount for it that he has offered you. 
 
 Ruth. If he had control, he could put you out 
 of the presidency, couldn't he, George? 
 
 Geo. He could, and doubtless would. 
 
 Ruth. Well, mama, I wouldn't sell Jasper the 
 
ACT I 27 
 
 stock at any price. 
 
 Geo. No, your mother ought to sell. It would 
 be bad business for her not to sell at that figure. 
 
 Mrs. W. Well, thank God I know true condi- 
 tions. I wouldn't let Jasper have that stock if he 
 doubled his offer. And I would not have you buy 
 it for more than it is worth. You just continue to 
 vote it in the future as you have in the past, and I 
 suppose you won't elect Mr. Jasper president very 
 soon. 
 
 Geo. Not very soon. However, I cannot per- 
 mit you to make such a sacrifice for me. You really 
 ought to sell at that price. 
 
 Mrs. W. But I won't sell, especially to a fawn- 
 ing and flattering hypocrite like Jasper, who would 
 do anything for his own advantage. 
 
 Geo. Well, we will discuss it further at another 
 time. 
 
 Ruth. You're the dearest mother that ever lived. 
 I'll never forget this hour. It's one of the happiest 
 of my whole life. Wouldn't you be proud of such 
 a mother? 
 
 Geo. I certainly would. 
 
 Mrs. W . You cannot be more proud of me than 
 I am of you. 
 
 Ruth. You'll be thinking this a mutual admira- 
 tion society. 
 
 Geo. If I were to express my sentiments, it 
 might be more than a mutual admiration society. 
 
 Ruth. (Aside.) Why don't you? 
 
 (Maid announces J as.) 
 
 Mrs. W. Talk of the angel, he's sure to appear. 
 
 Geo. The devil, you say? 
 
 Mrs. W. I guess you are right. Pardon the 
 
28 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 slip of my tongue. 
 
 Geo. Coming at this time, I know Jasper will 
 expect to remain for dinner. He always does. 
 
 Mrs. W. I suppose Ann is the attraction. I 
 know she is quite a favorite of his. 
 
 Geo. Yes, but he is no favorite of Ann's, and 
 unless I am badly mistaken, she has let him know 
 it. She has such a refreshing way of saying what 
 she thinks. But I try to be tactful, and know that 
 I make a hypocrite of myself when I invite him to 
 remain for dinner under conditions such as these, 
 when distance would make him so much more en- 
 chanting to us all. 
 
 Ruth. If anything would make him enchanting, 
 it would be distance, and plenty of it. 
 
 Mrs. W. If that makes you a hypocrite, then we 
 are all hypocrites who have asked him to dinner. 
 
 {Enter J as. apparently surprised to see Mrs. W . 
 and Ruth. Greets all.) 
 
 Ruth. You seem surprised to see us here. 
 
 Jas. I am somewhat, and yet, delighted. 
 
 Ruth. But just a little more surprised than de- 
 lighted ? 
 
 Jas. No. Surprised as I may have seemed, I am 
 more delighted than surprised. 
 
 Ruth. That is surely some delight, and I thank 
 you for the compliment, even though it was invited. 
 
 Mrs. W . You conceited p'\r\. You thank him. 
 as if the compliment were all yours. I claim half 
 of it, and join in the appreciation, as I know that 
 Jasper would not be more than half as delighted 
 if I were not along. 
 
 Jas. That is true. You must be a mind reader. 
 And I am delighted that you are delighted with my 
 
ACT I 29 
 
 delight. 
 
 Ruth. That sounds well. And we appreciate 
 your appreciation of our appreciation. 
 
 Geo. Help! Help! We've had enough of that. 
 Call it a draw. 
 
 Jas. Agreed. By the way, George, knowing that 
 I am welcome, I thought I would honor you with 
 my company for dinner. 
 
 Geo. Rest assured that you are as welcome as 
 usual. 
 
 Jas. Thanks old man. I do certainly feel at 
 home here. And now that I have so successfully 
 invited myself, would it be presuming too far for 
 me in turn to ask you, Mrs. Williams, and you, 
 Ruth, to join us? I am positive that George will 
 second the invitation, won't you? 
 
 Geo. I can't do it. 
 
 Jas. What? You are joking, I know. 
 
 Geo. No, I mean it. 
 
 Jas. You put me in an awkward predicament. 
 May I ask the reason? 
 
 Geo. Certainly. 
 
 Jas. Well, what is it? 
 
 Geo. I can't second your invitation, having al- 
 ready previously invited them. 
 
 Jas. The joke is on me. But I'll get even with 
 you some day. 
 
 {Enter Fr. Greets all.) 
 
 Fr. I am late. I hope I haven't delayed dinner. 
 
 Geo. No, we are waiting for Ann and Lord 
 Nowit. 
 
 Fr. What? Haven't they returned? 
 
 Geo. We have been expecting them some little 
 time. 
 
30 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Jas, I didn't realize when I invited myself that 
 I was intruding on a dinner party. 
 
 Geo. Let me do the worrying about your intru- 
 sion. You couldn't have chosen better company. 
 
 {Enter Ann and Lord Nomit. Greet all.) 
 
 Ann. (To Mrs. W. and Ruth.) You must 
 pardon me for not being here to receive you. I hope 
 that we have not kept you waiting long. A tire on 
 our car was punctured. 
 
 Lord N' And, you know, one of those quick de- 
 tachable tires couldn't be detached for over an hour. 
 
 Mrs. W. No apology is necessary, my dear. As 
 misery loves company, it is not amiss to say that we 
 all have had similar experiences. 
 
 Fr. {To Ann.) Did Lord Nowit recite his 
 speech to you while you were waiting? 
 
 Ann. No. What speech? 
 
 Fr. The one he delivered at the Cricket Club 
 Banquet last night. I stopped at the Club on my 
 way here, and all the boys are talking about it. 
 
 Lord N. Oh, were they, indeed? What did 
 they say ? 
 
 Fr. Jones said he liked the fire you put in your 
 remarks. Smith thought it would have been better 
 to have put your remarks in the fire. Brown 
 commented particularly on the brilliant outburst of 
 silence between paragraphs. All the boys seemed 
 to enjoy them. Ponsonby said it was sound from be- 
 ginning to end. Dudley said it averaged well, in 
 that it made up in length what it lacked in depth. 
 Bixby expressed the hope that at the next banquet 
 you would recite on Mount Shasta. 
 
 Lord N. That would indeed be a lofty subject. 
 But why did he suggest that? 
 
ACT I 31 
 
 Fr. He regarded it more as an object, and sug- 
 gested it because it was so lofty and so far away. 
 
 Lord N. Such remarks are very gratifying, 
 really. 
 
 (Maid announces dinner). 
 
 Jas. It must have been an impromptu speech. 
 Lord Nowit. 
 
 Lord N. It was. I had only one week of prep- 
 aration. But, really, you know, I can't take all the 
 credit. Miss Ann helped me materially, very ma- 
 terially, indeed. And even more than that. 
 
 (Jas., Mrs. W., Ruth, Fr., Ann, and Geo. 
 laugh. ) 
 
 Geo. Mrs. Williams, will you lead the way 
 with me. Jas. will escort you, Ruth. Lord Nowit 
 is generous in sharing those tributes with you, Ann. 
 I hope they are merited. Suppose you reciprocate 
 by going in to dinner with him; and Frank, you 
 chaperon them. 
 
 Ann. I don't deserve all this. 
 
 Lord N. Yes, you do. You're just as smart as 
 I am. 
 
 Lord N. (To Jas.) You did not know that I 
 could make a speech, did you. 
 
 Jas. No, can you? 
 
 V ( Curtain ) 
 
ACT II 
 
 (Same scene as Act I. Three months later.) 
 {George Alone.) 
 
 Geo. "Oh, Why should the spirit of mortal be 
 
 proud ? 
 Life a swift fleeting meteor, a fast-flying 
 
 cloud, 
 A flash of the lightning, a break of the 
 
 wave, 
 Man passes from life to his rest in the 
 
 grave." 
 
 The words of that poem seem to be echoing in 
 my ears so much of late. What a sudden change. 
 A quake of the earth and I passed from great wealth 
 to poverty. My property was destroyed, my busi- 
 ness ruined, and our bank is gone, though the de- 
 positors were paid in full. In ruins are the three 
 buildings of which we were so proud, once tower- 
 ing edifices, now ashes. Yes, my entire fortune is 
 gone — even this home — nothing left but my stock in 
 a bank with no assets, but with a good name. Ann 
 has $25,000.00 in bonds and I have a moral obliga- 
 tion to pay half of one hundred thousand dollars. 
 Over five hundred poor people confided their entire 
 savings to the Building and Trust Company. Its 
 assets are destroyed and these poor people, whose 
 loss is due to their faith in our management, must 
 be paid, if it requires the use of Ann's last cent. She 
 32 
 
ACT II 33 
 
 insists upon it, and has even convinced me that it 
 is my duty to permit her the privilege of using the 
 last vestige of her fortune for this purpose. Such a 
 girl. Excelled by none, but equalled by one, Ruth. 
 Fortunate indeed am I to have the love of two such 
 beings, though all else is gone. Little did I ever 
 dream that I would lose my fortune, and less, that 
 having lost all, it would worry me so little. 
 
 I would have no cause for worry if I could only 
 make Jasper see that he ought to do his share. He 
 should be here now. The scrub is half an hour 
 late. Before the earthquake, I could give him credit 
 for one thing, — punctuality. Since my reverses, he 
 seems habitually to keep me waiting without com- 
 punction. He is the only one who apparently seeks 
 to make me feel my loss. 
 
 Jas. {Taps lightly and rapidly on door, enter- 
 ing at the same time without awaiting invitation.^ 
 
 Jas. How are you? 
 
 Geo. Very well, thank you. Won't you have 
 a seat? 
 
 Jas. {Sitting.) I have been thinking over our 
 last conversation and might just as well say at 
 once that I do not see things as you do. We are 
 not liable for the loss incurred by the Trust Com- 
 pany, and we would be damned fools to pay those 
 people $100,000.00. 
 
 Geo. We might not be such damned fools as you 
 think. There are a few facts for which you are 
 responsible, which contributed materially to our 
 predicament. 
 
 Jas. The earthquake would have wiped every- 
 thing out anyway, so we might just as well at- 
 tribute it to the earthquake. Besides, we have con- 
 
34 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 suited several of the best lawyers, and they all 
 agree that there is no legal liability. 
 
 Geo. Who do you mean by "we?" 
 
 Jas. Well, then, I have consulted them — in be- 
 half of the company. 
 
 Geo. And they say there is no legal liability? 
 Did you ask them about our moral liability? 
 
 Jas. You are lawyer enough to know there is no 
 legal liability. If there were a moral liability, there 
 would be a legal liability. For the last ten years 
 the Legislatures have been busy turning all moral 
 liabilities into legal liabilities and even in some in- 
 stances creating legal liability where there was none 
 morally. I am not going to pay any money un- 
 less the law says I must. Let the other fellow do 
 the worrying. 
 
 Geo. A man of integrity will never listen to any 
 reason against conscience; and you are adopting a 
 harsh rule of conduct if j^ou will do no more than 
 the law will compel you to do. In a thousand 
 pounds of law there is not an ounce of love. 
 
 Jas. And in the hearts of all these five hundred 
 people to whom you want to pay this money, there 
 will not be an ounce of love for us, if they get 
 their money. They will not even be grateful. 
 
 {Maid raps and enters.) 
 
 Maid to Geo. There is a rough-looking man 
 at the door, sir. He insists on seeing you. 
 
 Geo. I can't see him now. I am engaged. 
 
 Maid. This is the third time he has been here 
 to-day. 
 
 Geo. Tell him to wait. I will see him in half 
 an hour. 
 
 Maid. I told him you were busy, sir, but he said 
 
ACT II 35 
 
 you know him, and would see him if you knew he 
 was here. 
 
 Geo. What is his name? 
 
 Maid. I couldn't understand it. 
 
 Geo. Did he say what he wants? 
 
 Maid. He says that you promised him the 
 money, sir, that he put in some bank. He is a 
 German. His name sounded like Bellmotter. 
 
 Geo. Bellmotter? Didn't he say Geldmacher? 
 
 Maid. Yes sir, I think that is the name. 
 
 Geo. I will see him now. 
 
 Jas. Oh, let him wait. His business can't be as 
 important as mine. 
 
 Geo. He is one of the depositors of the Building 
 and Trust Company. He has business with both of 
 us. 
 
 Jas. I haven't any time to waste listening to 
 hard luck stories. I don't want to hear any of 
 these people whining and crying around about losing 
 all their savings, and all that sort of rot. 
 
 Geo. {To Maid.) Have Mr. Geldmacher come 
 up at once. {Exit maid.) 
 
 Geo. {To Jas.) This man's predicament is no 
 worse than that of forty or fifty others with whom 
 I have talked in the last month. Their plight is 
 heart-rending. They must be helped. 
 
 Jas. I have troubles enough without shoulder- 
 ing those of such a herd. I don't want to see this 
 fellow. Our business is brief. Let's end it, and 
 I will get out. 
 
 {Enter maid followed by Geldmacher. Geo. 
 shakes hands with Gus.) 
 
 Geo. Be seated. This is Mr. Church, Presi- 
 dent of the Building & Trust Company. {Jas. 
 
36 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 nods coolly.) 
 
 Gus. Ah, so? Hass he got de money? 
 
 Jas. No. 
 
 Gus. V'en vlll it be retty? 
 
 Jas. Perhaps never, the way things now look. 
 
 Gus. Vat? I von't get mine money? 
 
 Geo. I am just trying to arrange with Mr. 
 Church so that you will get every dollar. 
 
 Gus. I got to haff it to-morrow. 
 
 Jas. You will be in luck if you ever get it. 
 
 Gus. You don't mean I loose all mine money? 
 
 Jas. I do. You might. 
 
 Gus. No! No! No! You don't keep it. You 
 giff it to me. You must. 
 
 Jas. I haven't your money. 
 
 Gus. Aber de bank hass got it. 
 
 Jas. The bank hasn't got it. The trust com- 
 pany had it, but the earthquake destroyed every- 
 thing the trust company had. 
 
 Geo. It wasn't all earthquake. Don't consider 
 your money lost. 
 
 Gus. Aber I needs it now. Venn I loose mine 
 money I loose mine mine. 
 
 Jas. I guess there is no danger of losing your 
 mind. 
 
 Geo. He means his mine — his gold mine, — not 
 his mind. 
 
 Gus. Ya, mine mine; not mine mind. Maybe 
 I lose mine mind when I loose mine mine. 
 
 Geo. Don't worry, Gus. You go on working 
 your mine for a few days and you w^ill get your 
 money. 
 
 Gus. Ach, I can't vork him now. Da've in- 
 chunctioned me not to do it. I must haff de money 
 
ACT 11 37 
 
 to make dis inchunction loose. Dey try to steal 
 mine mine. Dey law me for ft now. Ach Gott! 
 All mine life I vork hard. Me und mine vife ve 
 vork, ve scrape, ve safe. Sometimes ve safe fife 
 dollars a mont', sometimes ten dollars; lots of times, 
 nottings. After vhile I got Two Hundred Dollars. 
 I pay all I safe into your bank. I find dis mine. 
 I no got enough money to pay men to help vork 
 him. So I myself go und vork him a liddle while. 
 Denn I come back here und vork hard to buy food 
 for mine vife. Venn I got a little money, I go back 
 und vork him some more. Mine vife is sick. Gret- 
 chen must stay at home mit her, und can't vork for 
 money. 
 
 Denn de eardqvake hit mine house, und fire burn 
 it. Ve haff no home. Mine vife died. To safe 
 her I need money for doctors. I ask mine money 
 from your bank. You vill not gifE it to me. How 
 mine vife suffer. I vant money to buy funeral for 
 mine vife. I ask mine money from your bank. 
 You vill not giff it to me. I can't pay funeral, 
 und de county do it. Ach Gott, Ach Gott, mine 
 poor vife, mine poor vife. 
 
 Now dey steal me mine mine. For lawyer to safe 
 him, I ask mine money from your bank. You 
 vill not gifE it to me. By Gott, you vill gifiE it to 
 me. I vill haf¥ it. 
 
 Jas. Why are you making such a fuss about 
 your mine. It is probably only a hole in the ground. 
 How do you know it is worth anything? 
 
 Gus. For more as ten years I vork in mines in 
 Cripple Creek und de Black Hills. I know venn a 
 mine is goot. I nefer saw vun besser as dis. 
 
 Geo. His claim must be good or those people 
 
38 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 wouldn't be trying to jump it. 
 
 J as. I have a hunch. I'll make you happy. I'll 
 give you your $200.oo and take a half interest in 
 your claim. 
 
 Geo, That's unfair. He is entitled to his 
 $2CX).00. Why should he give up part of his claim 
 for it? 
 
 Gus. I von't do it. Dem fellows offer me first 
 fife hundert, denn vun t'ousant, now two t'ousant 
 dollars for all. I von't sell. 
 
 Jas, Where is this claim of yours. 
 
 Gus. It iss de Bismark claim by Mound Shasda. 
 
 Jas. Oh — ^Then you are the man Grabber had 
 to sue? 
 
 Geo. How do you come to know about it. 
 
 Jas. I own a half interest in that claim. This 
 man has no rights there. 
 
 Gus. Yes, I haff. I found him und for three 
 years I haff been in that mine und vorked him. 
 
 Geo. {To Jas.) Then why has he no rights 
 there ? 
 
 Jas. He hasn't complied with the law. 
 
 Geo. In what way. 
 
 Jas. I don't know the details. That is what our 
 lawyers tell us. 
 
 Geo. {To Gus). They must have given you 
 some papers. 
 
 Gus. Ya. 
 
 Geo. Where are they? 
 
 Gus. Here. 
 
 Geo. Let me see them. {Gus. hands papers to 
 Geo. who reads them, ponders a moment, then 
 says to Gus.) 
 
 They claim first that you were not a fully natur- 
 
ACT II 39 
 
 alized citizen, — that you had only taken out the 
 first papers; second, that the notice posted gave 
 the date of discovery as 12/11/03, when you should 
 have written it out, December 11, 1903; third, that 
 the Notary Public before whom you made your af- 
 fidavit was a woman, and under the law her ap- 
 pointment as a notary is a nullity. 
 
 Jas. I told you he had no rights there. 
 
 Geo. I am not so sure about that. These look 
 to me like mere technicalities which do not affect 
 the validity of his location. 
 
 Gus. Gretchen read dem, but I coult not under- 
 stand. I know mine notices vere right. Mine 
 lawyer fixed dem. 
 
 Geo. Has he seen these papers? 
 
 Gus. No. 
 
 Geo. Why don't you take them to him? 
 
 Gus. He moofed avay for goot more as a mont 
 ago. 
 
 Jas. My friend George says our contentions are 
 mere technicalities. He is a lawyer and should 
 know. Why don't you give him the case ? 
 
 Gus. {To George). You are a lawyer? 
 
 Geo. Yes, I practiced law for several years be- 
 fore my father's death, at which time I was com- 
 pelled to take charge of the bank in which he was 
 deeply interested, and so had to give up the prac- 
 tice of law. 
 
 Gus. Vill you take mine case? 
 
 Geo. Since Mr. Church has so highly recom- 
 mended me, I will be pleased to, especially as I in- 
 tend to practice law again. 
 
 Gus. But I hafF no money. 
 
 Geo. Don't worry about that. It is not neces- 
 
40 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 sary for you to have money. I will take care of 
 your case and ,we can arrange about money later. 
 
 Gus. Ach Gott, I can't say how happy dot 
 makes me. You vill safe mine mine und I vill gilf 
 you half of him. 
 
 Geo. We will arrange about that later. I'll 
 keep these papers, study them carefully to-night, 
 and I will want to see you to-morrow morning at 
 ten o'clock. 
 
 Gus. I be here sure. 
 
 Jas. To show that my heart is in the right 
 place, I will give you $2,500.00 for your mine, and 
 we will drop this lawsuit. 
 
 Gus. No, I vill not do it. 
 
 Jas. Well, as a matter of charity, we will make 
 it $3,000.00, if you close now. 
 
 Gus. I vill giff you half of him for $3,000.00. 
 
 Jas. We don't have to give you anything for all 
 of it, but as I just said, to show our good faith in 
 the matter, we are willing to really give you 
 $3,000.00. We won't let you keep any interest in 
 the mine. You can take what we are willing to 
 give, or you will get nothing. 
 
 Gus. I von't do it. 
 
 Jas. Remember what I say. You will feel 
 sorry for this, Dutch. 
 
 Geo. Gus is German, not Dutch. You shouldn't 
 address him in that way. It does you no good, and 
 it hurts him. 
 
 Jas. I suppose he is as proud as he is poor. 
 
 Geo. I think I am lawyer enough to settle this 
 case right now. Gus. has offered me one-half in- 
 terest in his mine, if I win. Suppose you and your 
 people take that half interest, let Gus. keep the other 
 
ACT 11 4i 
 
 half, and I will drop out of ft. 
 
 Jas. We want the whole claim. We are legally 
 entitled to it and we will get it. 
 
 Geo. Very well. Gus, there is no use talking 
 about this matter any more now. Let me finish my 
 business with Mr. Church. You come back to- 
 morrow morning. 
 
 {Exit Gus.) 
 
 Jas. There is a fair sample of your depositors. 
 Independent ass. He has no more sense of gratitude 
 than a stone. The more you do for such fellows the 
 less thanks you get. 
 
 Geo. We are not looking for thanks. If we 
 knew now that not one of the five hundred de- 
 positors would be grateful, that should not dis- 
 courage us, especially where it is our plain duty to 
 reimburse them. 
 
 Jas. But this is purely a business proposition, 
 and I am opposed to it as a matter of principle. 
 Ostensibly this trouble was brought about by the 
 earthquake. That was an act of God. How can 
 we be held to blame for what was clearly an act 
 of God? 
 
 Geo. Let us not deceive ourselves. You must 
 realize that we resemble God in nothing so much as 
 in doing our duty to our fellow creatures. "If 
 each for each do all he can, a very God is man to 
 man." 
 
 Jas. You are always harping about foreign mat- 
 ters. I say again this is a business proposition. When 
 it comes to a matter of duty to our fellow man, who 
 surpasses me? Didn't I give five thousand dollars 
 toward rebuilding our church? You ^on't even 
 attend, and haven't for some time. Has the earth- 
 
4^ DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 quake knocked all the religion out of you? Or 
 have you gone to some other church? 
 
 Geo. I am not practicing any particular brand 
 of religion, but I know that some people ought to 
 be ashamed of their best actions, if the world only 
 knew the motives from which they sprung. 
 
 J as. By which you mean — ? 
 
 Geo. However brilliant an action, it should not 
 be esteemed great unless the result of a great 
 motive. 
 
 Jas. Well, what was my motive? 
 
 Geo. Don't you know? 
 
 Jas. I certainly do. 
 
 Geo. Then let that suffice. Name the condi- 
 tions under which you will contribute your share of 
 the hundred thousand dollars, if any, and if pos- 
 sible, I must comply with them. I am at your 
 mercy. 
 
 Jas. In our last conversation I told you the only 
 possible condition. Assign to me all your stock in 
 the bank. I will pay you for it the $25,000.00 that 
 you need, and personally contribute half of the 
 hundred thousand dollars. 
 
 Geo. You know we were offered one hundred 
 thousand for the good will of the bank. You 
 would only be allowing me $25,000.00 when I 
 ought to have about $50,000.00. Is that a fair 
 proposition, especially when that is my only asset, 
 and you have gone through the earthquake with 
 millions left, in spite of your losses? 
 
 Jas. If you personally are asking charity, that 
 is a different matter. 
 
 Geo. You are the last man of whom I would 
 ask charity. 
 
ACT II 43 
 
 Jas. I realize that. Therefore I am making 
 you purely a business offer. 
 
 Geo. Well, as a business matter, why am I not 
 entitled to my proportion of the hundred thou- 
 sand dollars offered. The stock is well worth that 
 amount for reorganization purposes. 
 
 Jas. If it is worth more than I offer, why don't 
 you sell it to some one else? 
 
 Geo. No one would buy my stock without 
 yours. In order to derive benefit the purchasers 
 must have practically all the stock. 
 
 Jas. Then yoii have been peddling your stock 
 about town? 
 
 Geo. I have been trying to sell it, if that is 
 what you mean. 
 
 Jas. And no one else would make you as good 
 an offer as mine? 
 
 Geo. What is the use of parleying? We both 
 understand conditions thoroughly. If you choose to 
 take advantage of my situation, I must sell at your 
 figure. 
 
 Jas. I thought when I came you would realize 
 that. You ought to be thankful that I am willing 
 to do so much. 
 
 Geo. I didn't imagine that you would be so 
 bitter an enemy as you have shown yourself to be 
 of late. 
 
 Jas. He who is a bitter enemy is a strong 
 friend. 
 
 Geo. One capable of being a bitter enemy can 
 never possess the necessary virtues that constitute a 
 true friend. 
 
 Jas. If Ann would come off her high horse, you 
 would soon see what a good friend and brother I 
 
44 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 could and would be. 
 
 Geo. Leave her name out of this discussion. I 
 am not responsible for her feeling of antipathy 
 against you. 
 
 Jas. Suppose you let her understand that it is 
 within her power to prevent this sacrifice and to 
 cause you to be made president of the reorganized 
 bank, don't you think she might forget her anti- 
 pathy ? 
 
 Geo. No. She knows you too well. I couldn't 
 change her if I would, and what's more, I wouldn't 
 if I could. My stock is here. Have you a check? 
 
 Jas. I ought not to give you even the $25,000.00 
 after what has taken place. {Takes check from 
 pocket and writes). 
 
 Geo. Don't for a moment allow yourself to be- 
 lieve that you are giving me anything. It is only to 
 get money for those poor mortals who can scarcely 
 keep body and soul together that I give this stock to 
 you at any price, and you know it. 
 ( Curtain ) 
 
 {Scene II. Same day. Ruth's home.) 
 
 Ruth and Mrs. W. in conversation. 
 
 Mrs. W . My dear, you must see that George 
 is impossible now that he is ruined financially. You 
 must not think of marrying him. 
 
 Ruth. But, mother, we are practically engaged. 
 We cannot break of¥ an engagement for no other 
 reason than that George has lost his money by the 
 earthquake. 
 
 Mrs. W . You were not engaged. Doubtless 
 you had an understanding, but it was not a formal 
 engagement, and it has not been announced. There 
 
ACT II 45 
 
 will be no room for criticism. I shall insist upon 
 it and will let George understand that he must not 
 come here any more. 
 
 Ruth. I do not wish you to do that. I am no 
 longer a child. 
 
 Mrs. W . Have not my losses through the earth- 
 quake caused me sorrow enough, without having 
 your ingratitude added to them? Since the earth- 
 quake you have persisted in receiving George's at- 
 tentions against my protest. You are making me 
 very unhappy. But for George I should have been 
 much better off financially. 
 
 Ruth. How did George cause you any loss? 
 
 Mrs. W. But for him, I should have sold my 
 bank stock to Jasper Church for seventy-five thou- 
 sand. Now I have the stock, and can get a scant 
 five thousand for it. 
 
 Ruth. You are unjust to him, mother. You 
 must remember that he advised you to sell; he told 
 you that it was bad business for you not to sell, 
 and even offered to buy it himself at the same figure 
 Jasper offered. 
 
 Mrs. W. The fact remains, my dear, that it 
 was because of George that I did not sell. He 
 has nothing now, and I have determined that you 
 shall not marry him. 
 
 Ruth. And I have determined that I shall. 
 
 Mrs. W. I can't understand you or your atti- 
 tude of late. You never before spoke to me like 
 that. 
 
 Ruth. And you never before made such an un- 
 reasonable demand. 
 
 Mrs. W. Unreasonable! Why, how can you 
 say such a thing? You were not brought up for a 
 
46 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 poor man's wife. You could not stand the drudgery 
 — besides, there is no need. I want a serious talk 
 with you. 
 
 Ruth. Serious talk. What are we having now? 
 Is this jesting? I had nothing to say about my com- 
 ing into life, nor will I have about my going out. 
 Marriage is the one great event about which we 
 have some choice. It is the seal of our earthly weal 
 or woe. With your advice and approval, I have 
 chosen, and chosen well. 
 
 Mrs. W. But, my dear, you did not, with my 
 advice and approval, choose poverty. You would 
 make a fine cook! And general housework is not 
 quite in your line. 
 
 Ruth. No, I was reared to charm with the bril- 
 liance of my intellect, with my attainments in 
 language, science and art, my music, etc., but you 
 think that I cannof make a home comfortable and 
 inviting for a poor man. 
 
 Mrs. W. It is not necessary. Social position, 
 wealth and distinguished connections are still with- 
 in your reach. Be reasonable. 
 
 Ruth. And listen to your reasons without reas- 
 on. You tempt me with ease, luxury, social posi- 
 tion and wealth. For these you would have me 
 sell my love. For a month I have tried not to of- 
 fend you, but there is a limit to my endurance. I 
 know your ideas; you know mine. I will not 
 change. 
 
 Mrs. W . If you persist, your obstinacy will be 
 the death of me. 
 
 Ruth. Worse than death to me would be life 
 without George. He is the one man who can make 
 true answer to my soul's true love; whose soul is 
 
ACT II 47 
 
 all kindred to mine; whose life answers my ideal of 
 manly demeanor. 
 
 Mrs. IV. Fine words. That all sounds very 
 pretty now, but it will be different when you 
 awaken to find your status in society fixed by that 
 of your husband. 
 
 Ruth. His status will always be good enough 
 for me. I only pray to God to make me worthy 
 of him. His character will never be endangered 
 by poverty, and we do not regard wealth as the 
 only or surest passport to honor and happiness. 
 
 Mrs. W . I have your best interests in mind and 
 am only trying to do my duty by you. There is 
 much truth in the old adage that a light purse 
 makes a heavy heart. "When the wolf comes in 
 at the door, love flies out at the window." You 
 have not seen the other side. So far you have 
 known only ease and comfort. You will find it 
 very different when you are estranged from all 
 your friends, and your life is changed from what 
 you have known, to a dull struggle for existence. 
 
 Ruth. Mother, dear, do forgive me if I have 
 spoken unkindly. You don't understand. You 
 can't fully understand, or you would not persist in 
 forcing your ideas upon me. Since you have con- 
 ceived the idea of selling me to the highest bidder, 
 you have made me most wretched. You did not 
 hesitate to marry a poor man. 
 
 Mrs. W. I was trained differently than you 
 have been. I was taught to do the things that would 
 be almost impossible for you. But they were not 
 easy. Because of the ordeals through w^hich I pass- 
 ed, I am anxious to save you from them. Times 
 have changed, and money is more necessary to 
 
48 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 happiness than It was In my day. 
 
 Ruth. Even now wealth Is a poor substitute for 
 love, and misfortune can never suppress it. I 
 might listen to you with more patience If you had 
 any objection to George other than that he Is poor, 
 which Is no objection. 
 
 Mrs. W . I must not let you be misled by ro- 
 mantic ideas which I know you will regret later. 
 I need only say the word, and you will have an offer 
 of marriage from one who will give you every 
 luxury. 
 
 Ruth. Have you already made plans for bar- 
 gaining me away? 
 
 Mrs. W . I have In mind one who would be a 
 suitable husband for you. 
 
 Ruth. May I ask who the prospective purchaser 
 is? 
 
 Mrs. W. Do not be Impertinent, Ruth. You 
 must realize that this is best for you. The man 
 I have in mind is Jasper Church. 
 
 Ruth. What? Jasper Church? Would you 
 really have me marry Jasper? To give up George 
 would be terrible. To give him up for Jasper would 
 be monstrous. 
 
 Mrs. W . Calm yourself, my dear. Calm your- 
 self. Jasper Is really a very desirable match. As 
 Jasper's wife, your position in society would be 
 assured. 
 
 Ruth. As Jasper's wife, my position would be 
 unthinkable. And you, my mother, oi all persons, 
 to urge it. Now I can understand your bitter- 
 ness toward George since the earthquake. Your 
 attitude since then Is clear to me now. You have 
 been bartering me off to Jasper, 
 
ACT II 49 
 
 Mrs. W . I have only been trying to secure for 
 you a suitable husband. Jasper has money and 
 position, and is no worse than the average man. He 
 cuts quite a figure in society, and is honest to a 
 penny. 
 
 Ruth. It does not take a very sharp man to cut 
 a figure in society. He may be honest to a penny, 
 but not when there is more than a penny at stake. 
 Honest, when it is convenient and profitable. When 
 it costs nothing, and will pay well, he is most 
 scrupulously honest; otherwise he gives honesty 
 the slip. 
 
 Mrs. W. You are prejudiced against him. He 
 is a deep thinker and believes that honesty is the 
 best policy. 
 
 Ruth. He must be a deep thinker, for none of 
 his ideas ever get to the surface. He ought to know 
 that honesty is the best policy. He has tried both. 
 He obeys literally the injunction, hold fast the truth; 
 he seldom allows it to escape him. As a liar, he is 
 equalled by few and excelled by none. He is as 
 conceited as it will do for one to be and not crack 
 open. 
 
 Mrs. W. My dear, you are hysterical. You 
 misjudge him. You forget that he is one of the 
 leaders in our church. He contributed most gener- 
 ously to the fund for rebuilding. 
 
 Ruth. Yes, his religion is vanity, attracting as 
 much attention as possible with his money. He 
 makes a show-bubble of it; that is his shade of re- 
 ligion. Hypocrisy, pretense and profession. He 
 will help build high domes of worship with velvet 
 seats and marble steps and golden altars, but he is 
 deaf to the cry of beggary, squalid want and ragged 
 
50 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 poverty. He talks more good in five minutes than 
 he does in five years. He worships God only with 
 his lips. He is a religionist. He's^ — a— 
 
 Mrs, W. Ruth, dear, you are working yourself 
 into a frenzy. Be composed. I must go now. I 
 promised to meet Jasper at his office at 4 o'clock, 
 i am sure you will agree with me when you have 
 thought this over quietly. Jasper will expect me 
 to give him an answer. I shall tell him that you 
 will marry him. 
 
 Ruth, You will tell him nothing of the kind. I 
 will not marry Jasper. I am going to marry George. 
 
 {Exit Mrs. W. to get wraps). 
 
 Ruth. I tell you I won't marry Jasper. I won't. 
 I won't. 
 
 {Ruth falls sobbing on sofa.) 
 
 {Maid raps at door. No response, maid enters.) 
 
 Maid. {Seeing Ruth prostrate.) Miss Ruth: 
 
 {No response.) 
 
 Maid, Miss Ruth ! Miss Ruth ! Are you ill ? 
 
 Ruth, No please leave me. 
 
 Maid, I will call your mother. 
 
 Ruth, No, no. Don't do that. 
 
 Maid, Mr. Chandler is at the door. What shall 
 I say? 
 
 Ruth, I will see him at once. 
 
 (Exit Maid, Ruth wipes eyes.) 
 
 {Enter Geo,) 
 
 Ruth, Oh, George. {Geo. takes her in arms. 
 Ruth sobs,) 
 
 Geo. What is the matter, dear? What is the 
 matter ? 
 
 Ruth. I am so miserable. 
 
 Geo. Tell me why. 
 
ACT II 51 
 
 Ruth. Mother forbids our marriage. 
 
 Geo. What? 
 
 Ruth. I am so unhappy. What shall I do? 
 
 Geo. When did she say that, and why? 
 
 Ruth. She wants me to marry Jasper. 
 
 Geo. Marry Jasper? For financial reasons, I 
 suppose. 
 
 Ruth. Yes. 
 
 Geo. So she wants you to break our engagement 
 because I am poor? 
 
 Ruth. Yes, and I told her I wouldn't do it. 
 
 Geo. I wouldn't have believed it of your mother. 
 
 Ruth. She is getting on her wraps now to go and 
 tell Jasper that I will marry him. 
 
 Geo. But she can't say such a thing. 
 
 Ruth. But she will. 
 
 Geo. Against your wish? 
 
 Ruth. She said she would. 
 
 Geo. I don't care what she tells him without 
 your consent. 
 
 Ruth. She will never, never tell him that with 
 my consent. 
 
 Geo. Then why should we worry about it. 
 
 Ruth. Mother will give me no peace so long 
 as I refuse to marry him. 3he has had this in mind 
 for a month. I can't explain how wretched it 
 has made me. 
 
 Geo. I have a scheme. We can checkmate moth- 
 er. 
 
 Ruth. How? 
 
 Geo. Marry me. 
 
 Ruth. When? 
 
 Geo. At once. This afternoon. 
 
 Ruth. {Still in Geo*s arms, nods assent. Geo. 
 
52 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 kisses Ruth). 
 
 Geo. Dearest, it has been just four months since 
 you first told me that you loved me. And now — 
 
 Ruth. There isn't any stronger word, or I would 
 use it. 
 
 (Geo. kisses Ruth). 
 
 Geo. There is only one regret. I can't sup- 
 port you in the manner to which you have been ac- 
 customed. 
 
 Ruth. But I can accustom myself to the man- 
 ner in which you can support me. 
 
 Geo. To hear you say that and to know you as 
 I now do is worth all my so-called misfortune. 
 
 Ruth. There is something so sublime in the reso- 
 lute manner in which you have suffered without 
 complaining, that makes me love you more in your 
 adversity than I did in your success. 
 
 Geo. My love for you is a giant power which 
 has sustained me through all my trials, and has giv- 
 en me the strength that at every difficulty raises me 
 to a higher might. 
 
 (Geo. kisses Ruth. Mother enters and finds Ruth 
 in Geo.^s arms). 
 
 Mrs. W. Ruth what does this mean ? 
 
 Ruth. You may draw your own conclusions, 
 mother. 
 
 Mrs. W. Very well. Mr. Chandler, Ruth will 
 not marry you. I wish you to leave the house at 
 once. 
 
 Geo. But Ruth tells me 
 
 Mrs. W . I will not discuss the matter with 
 you. 
 
 Geo. Permit me a word. I 
 
 Mrs. W. There is nothing to be said. 
 
ACT II 53 
 
 Geo. Let me explain. 
 
 Mrs. W. I want no explanations. 
 
 Geo. I just wanted to tell you 
 
 Mrs. W . I will not listen. Please go, 
 
 Geo. You can't prevent my speaking. 
 
 Mrs. W . You can't make me listen. 
 
 Geo. Ruth and I 
 
 Mrs. W. Ruth is to marry Mr. Church. I 
 am going now to tell him that she has accepted his 
 proposal. 
 
 Geo. Let us accompany you as far as Judge 
 Smith's office. You can tell Jasper Church we 
 have gone there to be married. 
 
 {Ruth and Geo. move toward door arm in 
 arm — while curtain descends.) ' 
 
 Mrs. W. Go to your room instantly! 
 {Curtain) 
 
ACT III 
 
 Three years later, during which time George has 
 won the case for Gus. and become half owner of 
 the mine. He was also elected Governor of Cali- 
 fornia. 
 
 Scene — Office of the Governor. Nogi sweeping. 
 Enter Rob. 
 
 Rob. Sweeping out the room? 
 
 Nogi. No. 
 
 Rob. Well, what are you doing? 
 
 Nogi. Just sweeping out the dirt. I leave the 
 room. 
 
 Rob. Why are you so late this morning? 
 
 Nogi. I miss the first car. I never behind, 
 before. 
 
 Rob. I guess you didn't run fast enough. 
 
 Nogi. Yes, I know I run fast enough; but I no 
 start soon enough. 
 
 Rob. You had better hurry. The governor will 
 be here soon. 
 
 Nogi. I just through now. I so tired that some 
 day I like to sleep a whole week. 
 
 Rob. That is a good idea. When do you want 
 to commence? 
 
 Nogi. Some evening next Saturday. 
 
 Rob. And sleep until the day after the night 
 before. By the way, Nogi, how long have you 
 been in the United States? 
 
 Nogi. Three years. 
 
 Rob. How do you like it? 
 
 Nogi. Very much. But this is very funny place. 
 54 
 
ACT III 55 
 
 Rob. Why? 
 
 Nogi. You have few thieves. 
 
 Rob. I don't understand. 
 
 Nogi. Thieves are scarce. I read in paper you 
 advertise for them and offer reward for their dis- 
 covery. I want to advertise to discover my purse. 
 You tell me if this is right for paper. {Hands 
 paper to Rob.) 
 
 Rob. {Reads.) Lost on Saturday, loser knows 
 not where, an empty purse with $10.63 in it- On 
 the outside are printed "Nogi," but worn so much 
 it can not be observed. He who en-counters same 
 may reward himself with the purse, but return 
 my contents to Chronicle office. 
 
 That is not entirely accurate, Nogi, but I will 
 correct it for you, after a while. {Puts ad in pocket.) 
 
 Nogi. I thank you, I much obliged. {Produces 
 handkerchiefs.) I also much obliged if you tell me 
 which of these is lavenderest. 
 
 Rob. This one. Why? 
 
 Nogi. I want to give it for birthday present to 
 Miss Chandler. She has my distinguished self-re- 
 spect. I think her a fallen angel. 
 
 Rob. She is an angel, Nogi. Where were you 
 born. 
 
 Nogi. I was born in Nagasaki. 
 
 Rob. How big a place is that ? 
 
 Nogi. It as big as San Francisco, but not built 
 up yet. 
 
 Rob. I suppose you were there during the war 
 with Russia. 
 
 Nogi. Yes sir. 
 
 Rob. Were you in the army? 
 
 Nogi. Yes sir. 
 
56 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Rob. What battles were you In ? 
 
 Nogi. I the second one that fire the first shot at 
 Port Arthur. 
 
 Rob. How many Russians did you kill? 
 
 Nogi. I no know, sir, but I kill as many of them 
 as they kill of me. 
 
 Rob. Were you ever In jeopardy? 
 
 Nogi. I never heard of that place. 
 
 Rob. I mean, were you ever in great danger of , 
 death ? 
 
 Nogi. Once they have rumor that I am killed, 
 but I know It a mistake as soon as I hear it. 
 
 Rob. Well, I should think a veteran of the Rus- 
 sian war would not be so afraid of milking a cow as 
 you seem to be. 
 
 Nogi. Maybe It not be so hard when I learn 
 how. 
 
 Rob. There Is only one way to learn, and that 
 is to get right In and milk the cow. 
 
 Nogi. Could I not learn first to milk the calf? 
 That be easier. 
 
 {Enter Ann. Exit Nogi.) 
 
 Ann. Good-morning. 
 . Rob. Good-morning. 
 
 Ann. Alone? 
 
 Rob. Never less alone than now. 
 
 Ann. Thank you. 
 
 Rob. How are you ? 
 
 Ann. Well and happy. 
 
 Rob. That serves you right. 
 
 Ann. I came to see my brother. 
 
 Rob. He is not here. But his secretary Is at 
 your service. 
 
 Ann. Won't his secretary invite me to wait for 
 
ACT III 57 
 
 the governor? 
 
 Rob. Do you need an invitation. You know 
 how pleased I would be. 
 
 {Enter Nogi, who proceeds to dust slowly door 
 where he entered, listening meantime to the conver- 
 sation.) 
 
 Ann. How do you like being the governor's sec- 
 retary ? 
 
 Rob. Very much indeed. I find that I am under 
 obligations to you for the position. 
 
 Ann. Isn't that nice to receive thanks from both 
 of you. Only yesterday my brother complimented 
 me for having suggested you for the position. 
 
 Rob. You have been more than kind. From 
 chauffeur to Governor's secretary is a great promo- 
 tion. But do not think me ungrateful when I say 
 that sometimes I regret the change. I enjoy my 
 present duties and responsibilities, but I more than 
 miss the pleasant hours spent while in your service. 
 
 Ann. If that is ingratitude, I rather like to 
 think you ungrateful. 
 
 Rob. {To Nogi.) Suppose you dust the other 
 side of that door for a while. 
 
 Nogi. Yes sir. {Proceeds slowly dusting in- 
 side.) 
 
 Rob. I mean now, Nogi. 
 
 Nogi. Yes sir. {Pulls door open as far as pos- 
 sible, door swings in, Nogi stands, holding door 
 open and dusts while inside the room.) 
 
 Ann. When you dust like that, Nogi, all the 
 dust from the door comes into the room. Close 
 the door, and stand on the outside and dust. 
 
 Nogi. Yes, ma'am. 
 
 {Exit Nogi, and closes door.) 
 
58 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Ann. I didn't realize until you came here, how 
 much I had depended upon you of late. 
 
 Rob. You make me regret the change all the 
 more. I am ready to desert the governor for my 
 old position. 
 
 Ann. Would you do that? 
 
 Rob. Would you allow me to? 
 
 Ann. I thought you a man of high ambition. 
 
 Rob. Is it not a high ambition to wish to be near 
 you? 
 
 {Enter Nogi. Slowly dusts inside of door again.) 
 
 Rob. You were told to dust the outside of the 
 door, Nogi. 
 
 Nogi. I just accomplished that. 
 
 Rob. Well, let the inside of it go for a while. 
 
 Nogi. Yes sir. {Dusts picture, or other ivood- 
 work.) 
 
 Rob. Nogi, I want you to let all the dusting 
 and other work in this office go until to-morrow 
 morning. Do you understand? 
 
 Nogi. Yes sir. You mean enough dusting is 
 now too much? 
 
 Rob. That's what I mean. 
 
 Nogi. Yes sir. {Exit Nogi.) 
 
 Ann. Nogi is a great character. 
 
 Rob. He often seems to me like two in one. 
 But haven't we had enough of Nogi for a while? 
 Didn't we have a more interesting subject when he 
 last interrupted? 
 
 Ann. It seems to me that we did. Last night 
 I told my brother that I could not accomplish near- 
 ly all the good that he has planned, without your 
 help. He hopes to arrange matters so that you 
 will have some time each day in which to assist 
 
ACT III 39 
 
 me again, if you wish it. 
 
 Rob. The idea that I would desert the Govern- 
 or and my present position for the privilege, shows 
 how ardently I wish it. May I begin now? 
 
 Ann. Yes, at once. 
 
 Rob. Splendid. 
 
 Ann. Did he say how much to give to the famine 
 sufferers in China? 
 
 Rob. He wants them to have a thousand dollars. 
 
 Ann. Only one thousand dollars for them? 
 
 Rob. Yes, but he wants an additional four 
 thousand dollars given to the Missionary Society 
 to pay the expense of getting the one thousand to 
 the famine sufferers. 
 
 Ann. That sounds like one of my brother's 
 jokes, but many a word spoken in jest is true. It 
 well illustrates how frequently the needy get only 
 a small portion of what was intended for them. 
 
 Rob. (Starts and looks at watch.) I must ex- 
 cuse myself now. I almost forgot a meeting of the 
 Panama Exposition Commission at which I am to 
 represent the governor. I have barely time to get 
 there. When may your deserter assume his duties 
 as your assistant? 
 
 Ann. At your earliest convenience. 
 
 Rob. How about to-morrow morning? 
 
 Ann. I will arrange with my brother accord- 
 ingly. 
 
 Rob. I will leave you in sole charge of the 
 office. The governor will be here very soon. Good- 
 bye, until to-morrow. (Exit.) 
 
 (Enter Frank intoxicated.) 
 
 Fr. Hello, dear. 
 
 Ann. Frank! 
 
6o DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Fr. Yesh, dear. 
 
 Ann. Drunk, again? I can't express my de- 
 testation of your conduct. 
 
 Fr. Dash good, dear. I'm mighty glad you 
 can't. Don't cha try. 
 
 Ann. You're a nice one! You have broken the 
 promise you made last week. 
 
 Fr. Never mind that, dear. I can make anosher 
 jush ash good. I'm a promising young m.an. 
 How'sh that for a joke? 
 
 Ann. You're a thoroughfare of good resolutions. 
 How's that for a passage. I'll not waste any words 
 on you while you are intoxicated. I am utterly 
 disgusted with you. 
 
 Fr. Don't cha fly ofiE the handle, dear. What 
 makesh you think I'm drunk? 
 
 Ann. Drunkenness always reveals itself and a 
 great deal more. 
 
 Fr. I'm ash shober ash a judge. I'm only 
 eight or ten drinksh in. I've jush been drinking the 
 healthsh of a few of the boysh. 
 
 Ann. Yes, you drink the health of everybody, 
 and drink away your own. 
 
 Fr. I'm a physishian. I know that a certain 
 quantity of liquor dosh no one any harm. 
 
 Ann. Then it's an uncertain quantity that is 
 transforming you into a beast. I've given up hope for 
 you. You have developed into a hard drinker. 
 
 Fr. Dash a downright shlander. I drink ash 
 eashy ash anybody. 
 
 Ann. You recollect only the pleasure of getting 
 drunk, but forget the pains of getting sober. Tell 
 me why any sane man will put such an enemy into 
 his mouth to steal away his brains. Give me some 
 
ACT III 6i 
 
 reasonable account of yourself. 
 
 Fr. You can't 'shpect an account of a man who 
 hash losht hish balansh. Ashk me anosher quesshun. 
 
 Ann. You have lost more than your balance. 
 You have lost practice as a physician, your princi- 
 ple, your character, ambition and self-respect. 
 
 Fr. Ish dat all? Outside of dat I'm all rights 
 aint I. 
 
 Ann. Even your features showr dissipation. You 
 never before looked so old. 
 
 Fr. I dare shay. Fact ish, I never wash sho 
 old before in all my life. 
 
 Ann. Whiskey is your worst enemy. 
 
 Fr. Then ish all right for me to love whiskey. 
 I think the Bible saysh we mush Love our enemiesh. 
 
 Ann. Such a plight. You are too drunk to 
 think. 
 
 Fr. Did you shay drink? Yesh, I will take 
 something. It will do me good. 
 
 Ann. You certainly will. And with Nogi. You 
 will take a walk. It will do us both good. 
 
 Fr. I'm thirshty. My throat hurtsh. 
 
 {Ann goes to door and calls.) 
 
 Nogi, bring a glass of water. 
 
 Fr. I shaid I wash thirshty, not dirty. 
 
 {Enters Nogi with water. Hands it to Fr. Fr. 
 drinks. ) 
 
 Fr. That sthuff doeshn't hit the right place. 
 
 Ann. The right place for you is home. Nogi, 
 Dr. Mason is drunk. Take him home at once. 
 
 Nogi. I suspected what I supposed. 
 
 Fr. I guesh I had better go to the home of Mrs. 
 Shmiff. I've been doctoring her for a week. She 
 had an halushionashion she was sick. I cured the 
 
62 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 hallushionashion. She'sh sick now a'right. 
 
 Ann. You will not go there in that condition. 
 Nogi, take him home. 
 
 (Exit Nogi and Fr.) 
 
 Ann. Drunkenness is a voluntary madness. The 
 sight of a drunkard is the best sermon ever preached 
 against liquor. 
 
 (Enter Geo.) 
 
 Geo. Hello, Ann. 
 
 Ann. Good morning, Governor. (Laughing- 
 
 Geo. If you persist in calling me governor, there 
 will be war. 
 
 Ann. You threaten war? You who spend so 
 much time and money to promote universal peace. 
 You are the last who should use such a threat. Re- 
 member our slogan : "War nevermore." 
 
 Geo. Spoken like a true soldier. War is hell. 
 And yet I never before felt more tempted to de- 
 clare war. 
 
 Ann. What! Why? 
 
 Geo. I mean war against liquor. 
 
 Ann. I would like to be commander-in-chief of 
 your army. You must have met Frank. 
 
 Geo. Yes, Nogi had him in tow. He was lec- 
 turing Nogi on English literature, and was trying to 
 tell the story of the Progress of Pilgrim's Bunyons. 
 
 Ann. Isn't he disgusting? 
 
 Geo, He was full to overflowing, but not too 
 full for utterance. Was he here? 
 
 Ann. Yes, I had to ask Nogi to take him home. 
 
 Geo. Wasn't Gray here? 
 
 Ann. No, he had gone to a meeting of the 
 Panama Exposition Commission just before Frank 
 
ACT III 63 
 
 came in. 
 
 Geo. Yes, I remember about that. And you 
 waited to see me. 
 
 Ann. Yes, Robert says he is willing to devote 
 part of his time each day helping me in our work. 
 
 Geo. You didn't have to coax him, did )^ou? 
 
 Ann. No, why? 
 
 Geo. I hardly imagined it would be necessary. 
 
 Ann. What do you mean? 
 
 Geo. Nothing. Only he seems very much de- 
 voted — to the work, of course. 
 
 Ann. And to you. But with your permission 
 I am to have him to-morrow morning. 
 
 Geo. You have my permission. Did you get 
 the synopsis of our financial statement from the 
 auditors ? 
 
 Ann. Yes, I am waiting to go over it with you. 
 
 Geo. Let's take it up at once. Gus will be 
 here in half an hour, and I want to go over this 
 with you before he comes. In round figures, what 
 were our net receipts from the mine this year ? 
 
 Ann. $3,150,000. Last year it was $1,925,000. 
 
 (Enter Gus.) (Greetings.) 
 
 Geo. Well! you are early. 
 
 Gus. It took too long to vait haf a hour. I 
 vass so anxious to hear how much ve made. HaliE 
 you got it? 
 
 Geo. Yes, the auditor reports that we each made 
 $3,150,000 out of the mine this year; almost twice 
 as much as last year. How does that suit you? 
 
 Gus. Veil, w^ could make more venn ve didn't 
 pay de men so much. Next year he say ve make 
 how much? 
 
 Geo. Over $6,000,000 each net. The siiperin- 
 
64 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 tendent expects to work twice as many men. 
 
 Gus. He giff you how much gold ve haff in 
 sight und how long it takes to mine it. 
 
 Geo. Yes, over ten years, netting each $6,000,- 
 ooo a year. 
 
 Gus. Sixty millions more for me, Aber dot iss 
 not all, aint it. 
 
 Geo. No. There is apparently a mountain full 
 of ore. 
 
 Gus. You get me six millions next year vit'out 
 vorking nights? 
 
 Geo. That is the intention. 
 
 Gus. Vy not vork also a night shift, und each 
 get twelve million a year? 
 
 Geo. Night work is more dangerous for the 
 men. 
 
 Gus. Not much more dangerous. Ve pay dem 
 fife dollars each a day. Dey can take risks for dot. 
 
 Geo. What's the great hurry? The ore can't 
 get away. 
 
 Gus. Venn I get it out I get interest day und 
 night. In de mine it earns me nottings. 
 
 Geo. You surely don't need the money. You 
 have made an independent fortune on our townsite 
 speculation alone. 
 
 Gus. Dot is chust de reason. Venn I get money 
 out of de mine I make fortunes mit it. You haff 
 made chust as much as I have. I like to keep mine 
 money. You like to giff yours avay. Venn ve make 
 more money I haflE more to keep und you haff more 
 to giff avay. 
 
 Geo. We are getting more now than we can 
 distribute to advantage. If we increase the output 
 of the mine,, we would be getting richer in spite of 
 
ACT III 65 
 
 ourselves. 
 
 Ann. Yes, it is difficult indeed to give to the 
 best possible advantage. It has been extremely hard 
 properly to distribute the three millions we had this 
 year. 
 
 Gus. Dot iss funny, very funny. You haff 
 trouble to gifl your money avay, und I haff trouble 
 to keep from giffing mine away. 
 
 Ann. I didn't know you were ever tempted to 
 be charitable. 
 
 Gus. I aint. Aber eferyone asks me alvays to 
 giff dem money. 
 
 Geo. If it is hard for you to keep three millions 
 a year increase, it will be more than twice as hard 
 to keep from six to twelve millions. 
 
 Gus. No, dot makes no difference. I can refuse 
 to giff chust as easy. 
 
 Ann. Don't you ever help the needy? 
 
 Gus. I do lots. De Governor makes me, und 
 I tell him it iss not right. Ve haff ofer fife hundert 
 men vorking de mine. He pays dem fife dollars a 
 day each v'en ve could get de same men for two 
 dollars a day. I ask mine bookkeeper to figure how 
 much I loose a year by dot, und he tells me dot alone 
 vastes ofer four hundert tousand dollars. 
 
 Geo. Well, you pay only half of that. 
 
 Gus. Efen so, dot iss lots of money, Und den 
 you giff all odder people v'at vork for us on big 
 vages more as tvice too much. Den you always 
 giff men damaches venn dey are hurt by der own 
 foolishness. Dot iss not right. Always you do 
 odder t'ings like dot. Vone half of dot iss mine. 
 Chust see how much I giff. 
 
 Ann. You don't give anything to the men. It 
 
66 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 is hard for me to understand why you begrudge these 
 five hundred providers for families fair compensa- 
 tion for their toil. 
 
 Gus. Ven ve get de same kind of vork done 
 for two dollars a day, den fife dollars a day iss 
 more as fair vages. It giffs dem chust dot much, 
 und I don't nefFer believe in giffing nobody nottings 
 for nottings nohow. 
 
 Ann. Blessed are they who expect nothing, for 
 they shall surely receive it. 
 
 Geo. If we could get foreigners to do the work 
 for one dollar a day, do you believe we should em- 
 ploy them? 
 
 Gus. Sure, v'y not? Dott iss peezness. Venn 
 dey vant to vork for vun dollar a day, let dem do 
 it. Den dot iss all it iss vort! 
 
 Geo. Thank Heaven, our contract gives me full 
 management of the mine with the right to fix wages. 
 Your objections to five dollars a day will be over- 
 ruled as fast as you can advance them. 
 
 Gus. I don't like dot. It iss not fair. You 
 haff de right, aber you do me wrong. For two 
 years you don't listen to v'at I say about vages. I 
 ask mine bookkeeper, und he tells me *I now loose 
 $750.00 efery vorking day. Venn ve vork twice 
 as many men, I loose $1,500.00 a day. Venn ve 
 vork day and night, like ve should, I loose $3,000.00 
 a day. 
 
 Ann. No, according to your figures you would 
 lose only $1,500.00 a day — and $1,500.00 a night. 
 
 Geo. Ann is right. In order to save you money, 
 we will not put on a night shift. 
 
 Gus. I don't like dot, too. Dot safes me no 
 money. I only don't loose so much. Aber six mil- 
 
ACT III 67 
 
 lions a year less comes out of de ground, for me. 
 Chust think vat interest I loose, und v'at profits 
 I don't make mit de money I don't get. Aint dot 
 awful ? 
 
 Geo, Awful is no name for it. It is a crime. 
 What in God's world are you going to do with the 
 money ? 
 
 Gus. I hafif enterprise. I ask mine bookkeeper 
 und he tells me maybe I can be de richest man in 
 San Francisco. I vant to be it. Now you know mine 
 enterprise. 
 
 Geo. That is neither enterprise nor worthy am- 
 bition ; just greed, pure and simple greed. The pop- 
 ular variety. 
 
 Ann. The accumulation of wealth only creates 
 an appetite for more. "Fortune gives too much to 
 many, but to none, enough." 
 
 Gus. I don't understand that. 
 
 Geo. Most people don't understand that. You 
 are a very good example. You have too much 
 money; more than you need, or know what to do 
 with. And yet you have not enough; you are al- 
 ways planning and scheming and striving for more, 
 and more, and more. It seems that "You always 
 want to get hold of a little more gold, and are never 
 so rich that you wouldn't be richer." 
 
 Gus. V'y shouldn't I do it? Venn I vass poor 
 I vass always nobody. Venn I got money, efery- 
 body paid attention to me. Venn I got richer, more 
 people vanted to know me. De more richer I get, 
 de more importanter I am. 
 
 Geo. It isn't you that's important, Gus. It 
 isn't you that attracts people. It is your gold that 
 draws them. Money is the power. Money is your 
 
68 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 sole passport. Money alone has opened the way 
 for you, money would open it for anybody else. 
 
 Gus. Veil, if it does dot for me v'y shouldn't 
 I haff it? Since I haif money I am invited efery- 
 v'ere. I dine mit senators, und bankers, und efery- 
 body dot iss anybody. Sometimes I hardly know 
 myself, dey make so much fuss ofer me, und Gret- 
 chen. 
 
 Ann. Did you ever consider how many things 
 money will not buy, and these the best, and how 
 many evils money will not cure, and these the worst ? 
 
 Gus. No, v'at iss de use? 
 
 Ann. When will the world learn that poverty 
 is not evidence of meanness and degradation, and 
 that wealth is not evidence of character and cul- 
 ture? 
 
 Gus. I don't know. I don't care about dem 
 t'ings. 
 
 Ann. Few seem to care about such things. 
 
 Geo. "We see what God thinks of riches, by 
 the people He gives them to." I will study how to 
 give a good account of my portion. I don't want 
 to keep it nor add to it. 
 
 Gus. You giff too much avay, I know. 
 
 Geo. In benevolence there can be no excess. 
 
 Gus. Charity, Charity! Eferyt'ing mit you iss 
 charity. 
 
 Geo. You are mistaken. To distribute that for 
 which we have no use and no need is not charity. 
 All income more than a competence is a sacred trust 
 for the public. 
 
 Ann. Conditions among the poor have never 
 been worse than now. So many are without work 
 and there is so much suffering. Just think how 
 
ACT III 69 
 
 many of them you could make happy by using your 
 income alone, without spending any of your present 
 fortune. 
 
 Gus. It iss not right chust to giff. If a man hass 
 nottings, he must do someting to hafE anytings. 
 De great trouble mit dem dot iss poor iss deir ex- 
 trafagance. 
 
 Ann. Oh, no. The trouble is not the extrava- 
 gance of the poor. It is the great economy of the 
 rich. 
 
 Gus. Veil, ve von't argue some more about dot. 
 Ve can't neifer agree. 
 
 Ann. People say you care for nothing but a col- 
 lection of gold. 
 
 Gus. Veil, v'at of it? 
 
 Ann. People are commencing to regard you as 
 a miser, 
 
 Gus. Veil, v'at of it? 
 
 Ann. Then, even with more money, you won't 
 be so popular in the future as you have been in the 
 past. 
 
 Gus. Veil, v'at of it? 
 
 Ann. You won't live forever, 
 
 Gus. Veil, v'at of it? 
 
 Ann. Wealth is not current in another world. 
 
 Gus. Veil, v'at if it aint? 
 
 Ann. Some even say that you love gold more 
 than Gretchen. 
 
 Gus. Veil, v'at of it? 
 
 Ann. There is no use arguing with you. 
 
 Gus. Dot's chust vat I said. Dere aint no use. 
 Den let's don't. 
 
 Ann. You profess to be so religious. How can 
 you love God, whom you have not seen, when you 
 
70 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 don't love your fellow man, whom you have seen. 
 
 Geo. The more wealthy you become, the great- 
 er is your duty to your fellow-man. 
 
 Gus. I always done mine duty as I seen it; 
 angels couldn't a' did no more. 
 
 Geo. Your duty is to help the needy. That 
 you have never done. When you hoard money, you 
 increase the misery in the world. It is incredible 
 what a great quantity of good may be done in this 
 county by one man, especially a wealthy man, when 
 he does his duty. 
 
 Gus. You tell me v'at you done mit v'at you 
 giff avay last year. 
 
 Geo. {To Ann.) Just read the synopsis that 
 you have. 
 
 Ann. (Reads.) First: for the purpose of as- 
 sisting in bringing about the settlement of all in- 
 ternational differences by arbitration instead of war, 
 $i,500,cx)0. 
 
 Gus. (Impatiently.) Ach, foolishness. You 
 vaste all dot money; und so much. You can't stop 
 vars. Vat odder money did you giff avay, und 
 for v'y. 
 
 Ann. (Reads.) For libraries, $I9,(X)0.00. 
 
 Geo. Not a very large sum for libraries. 
 
 Ann. No, Carnegie has covered that field pretty 
 well, and we determined not to compete with him. 
 
 Gus. I spent more as fife t'ousant dollars last 
 year for Gretchen's library, und buyed her only 
 luxurious additions. Dey are de best. Most of 
 dem are green und red and blue vuns. It iss her 
 birthday next week, und I vant you to please buy 
 me for her about four shelfs of gilt edge vuns mit 
 yellow backs. Dey look goot mit de odders. 
 
ACTIII 71 
 
 Ann. Certainly. I know what will please her. 
 Gus. Dot iss goot. Aber don't spend more as 
 vun hundret dollars. 
 
 Geo. What is next on our list? 
 
 Ann. (Reads.) For Humane Societies, $250,- 
 
 CXX).CX). 
 
 Geo. I believe every cent of that was disbursed 
 to the best possible advantage. Gray's idea to have 
 an active society established in every county seat 
 in the union is excellent; his manner of bringing 
 it about, perfect; and I will never rest content until 
 it has been accomplished. Next year we can ap- 
 propriate twice as much for this purpose, if neces- 
 sary. 
 
 Ann. The reports we get are most satisfactory. 
 A wonderful change in sentiment is taking place, 
 and wanton cruelty is rapidly becoming a thing of 
 the past. 
 
 Gus. Dem societies iss chust for animals, aint 
 dey? 
 
 Ann. Yes, largely. 
 
 Gus. Veil, v'y vaste money on dem? You get 
 no t'anks. De animals don't know der difference. 
 
 Geo. We know there is a difference. 
 
 Gus. How I would hate to haff mine money 
 vasted on dogs, und cows, und I guess pigs, too. 
 Aint it I am right? 
 
 Ann. Yes, even pigs. "All creatures are of and 
 from God." The lower animals have rights which 
 must be respected. 
 
 Geo. Read the next item, Ann. 
 
 Ann. (Reads.) For Newsboys, $250,000.00. 
 
 Geo. We must also double our appropriation 
 for them. The results of our work; in their be- 
 
72 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 half were even more gratifying than for the Humane 
 Societies. 
 
 Gus. Dem little rascals sure don't appreciate 
 nottings. 
 
 Ann. You are wrong about that. Of all the 
 people we try to help, none are so grateful, none 
 make so much of opportunities given them, none 
 are so loyal as the newsboys. They are such in- 
 dependent, interesting and energetic little fellows. 
 I love them all. 
 
 Geo. You and Gray are playing the newsboys 
 favorites, but they deserve all we can do for them. 
 And Gray certainly does know how to do for them. 
 
 Ann. He has wonderful ideas. 
 
 Geo. Yes, his ideas have made our fortune a 
 much greater blessing to mankind than it ever would 
 have been without them. 
 
 Ann. Since you have monopolized him, I realize 
 more than ever the truth of what you say. 
 
 Geo. Just since I have monopolized him, eh? 
 Absence makes the heart grow fonder? 
 
 Ann. The next item is for churches, $i 1,000.00. 
 
 Gus. Vat? You gi£E only $11,000.00 for 
 churches? I beat you. I myself gii? de church 
 $12,500.00. 
 
 Ann. But ten thousand of that was when your 
 congregation built a new church. 
 
 Gns. Yes, aber I giff it to religion, chust de 
 same. So bleased am I dot I beat you, I can't tell. 
 
 Geo. Don't try. 
 
 Gus. Ach, dot iss goot; dot iss goot. 
 
 Ann. {Reads.) For direct local work, total 
 $479,000.00. The items are given here. Do you 
 want them? 
 
ACT in 73 
 
 Geo. No, unless Gus gave more. Did you? 
 
 Gus. Ach, no. Dot iss vat I don't belief in ; 
 dem kind of charities. 
 
 Ann. {Reads.) California park, 21,000 acres, 
 $580,000.00. Tools and machinery, $50,000.00. 
 Labor, $459,000.00. Total, $1,099,000.00. Do 
 you want more details? 
 
 Geo. No. 
 
 Gus. How many men you vork dere? 
 
 Geo. The same as at the mine, five hundred. 
 Next year we will have a thousand. 
 
 Gus. How much you pay dem? 
 
 Geo. Three dollars a day. 
 
 Gus. Dot iss not right. You gifE our men at 
 de mine fife dollars a day, und you giff your own 
 men only dree dollars a day. 
 
 Geo. Well, I will let you in on the snap. You 
 can pay half of their wages. 
 
 Gus. V'y for I vant to do a t'ing like dot ? You 
 make nottings efen ven you get dem for vun dollar 
 a day. 
 
 Geo. That's right. I guess I am running a los- 
 ing proposition. 
 
 Gus. Veil, venn you know it, v'y do you do it ? 
 Unless maybe you sell de land for a big profit some 
 day. 
 
 Geo. No, I can't do that. I have given it to 
 the state. 
 
 Gus. For nottings? 
 
 Geo. Yes, for nothing. 
 
 Gus. Veil, v'y do you vork men dere if you haff 
 giffen it avay? 
 
 Geo. I have two reasons. First, to provide a 
 place where every man, woman and child may enjoy 
 
H DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 to the fullest extent all the beauties and blessings of 
 Nature, a church of churches; God's own temple; 
 second, to employ, for their own benefit, and for the 
 benefit of mankind, as many as I can possibly afford 
 of those who would otherwise be without employ- 
 ment. 
 
 Gus. Dem tree dollar a day men aint all mar- 
 ried, are dey? 
 
 Geo. No, why? 
 
 Gus. Oh. I see. You don't care about married 
 men venn you don't vant to make money out of 
 dem, aint it? 
 
 Geo. What do you mean? 
 
 Gus. At de mine you won't haff nottings only 
 married men. Dot iss so ve haff lots of people on 
 our townsite, aint it? De scheme iss to make a 
 big city qvick und make de lots vorth lots more, 
 aint it? 
 
 Geo. That is far from the idea. Married men 
 should have the preference because of those who are 
 dependent upon them. It is true that more families 
 make our townsite worth more. And when we em- 
 ploy twice as many, it will result in more than 
 doubling the value of our acreage. It is now worth 
 a fortune. I wish I were certain of the best way 
 to give our employees the fullest benefit of it. Since 
 we have determined to double the force, this prob- 
 lem has been uppermost in my mind. Ways and 
 means will be devised to solve it, so as to bring about 
 the greatest good to the greatest number. 
 
 Ann. Gus will also want to do the greatest 
 good to the greatest number. But with him the 
 greatest number is number one. 
 
 Gus. You sure don't mean you vant to gift 
 
ACT III 75 
 
 avay our town lots. 
 
 Geo. That's just what I mean. Ann and I to- 
 gether have in bonds what we know to be a com- 
 petence, and we have both determined not to ac- 
 cumulate another penny. Enough is as good as a 
 feast. 
 
 Ann. Yes. What real good can an addition to 
 a fortune already sufficient procure. Not any. One 
 m.ay be rich in giving, but not in saving. Simply 
 multiplying wealth will never bring contentment. 
 Contentment alone can make one rich. There is 
 no wealth without it. 
 
 Gus. Vun t'ing I am glad of. Min^ interest 
 in de town-site you can't giff avay. You are crazy. 
 You don't know v'ere to stop giffing. 
 
 Geo. No. When once you start our system, 
 the joy is so supreme there is no stopping. 
 
 Ann. The Governor is certainly right. The 
 highest happiness is derived from doing deeds of 
 kindness, and wondrous are the pleasures of gener- 
 ous acts. 
 
 Gus. Veil, I make dot kind of pleasure for you. 
 Venn you haiiE too much money, giff it to me. I 
 take it. 
 
 Geo. Well, if we give it to you, and you become 
 the richest man in San Francisco, what then? 
 
 Gus. Maybe some day I could be de richest 
 man in California. 
 
 Geo. What then? 
 
 Gus. Maybe some day I could be de richest man 
 in America. 
 
 Geo. What then? 
 
 Gus. Maybe some day I could be de richest 
 man in de vorld. 
 
76 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Geo. What then? 
 
 Gus. Maybe I could be de richest man dot efer 
 liffed. Now, you haff really mine enterprise, und 
 anyhow, dan money dere iss no better serfant. 
 
 Geo. Money may be a good servant, but it is 
 a dangerous master. Money is your master, not 
 your servant. You do not possess it. It has taken 
 possession of you. 
 
 G71S. Dot iss funny talk. Vat you mean I 
 don't understand. 
 
 Geo. I will make it so plain that you will un- 
 derstand. I mean that you have sold yourself, body 
 and soul for the sake of gain. I mean that you 
 delight in naught but gold ; that you worship money, 
 that your greatest and only soul satisfying joy is 
 not in doing good for anyone, but in just gathering 
 gold; piling money higher and higher in your 
 chests ; increasing your bank account ; adding bonds 
 to bonds, mortgages to mortgages, and stocks to 
 stocks. Is that clear? 
 
 Gus. I am not so vorse as you t'ink, although 
 some of us iss a great deal better dan most. Dere 
 iss lots vorse men dan mei 
 
 Geo. And lots better, too. 
 
 Gus. I radder be chust vat I am dan lots of 
 odder t'ings. All mine dollars iss honest. I am 
 a self-made man. 
 
 Geo. Then you can't blame anyone else. "Many 
 a self-made man is proud of a poor job." 
 
 Gus. If I die I giff somet'ing avay like you vant. 
 
 Geo. That shows how selfish you are. You 
 are willing to give when you die only because you 
 can't keep it any longer. 
 
 Ann. You pass through this world but once. 
 
ACT III 77 
 
 Therefore, do now whatever kindness you can for 
 your, fellow-man. You shall not pass this way 
 again. By benevolence you would win the affec- 
 tion of all. 
 
 Geo. I would rather have the affectionate re- 
 gard of my fellow-man than heaps of gold. 
 
 Gus. I hafi both, und dot iss better dan either. 
 Efery body iss mine friend und likes me. Dey tell 
 me so. 
 
 Geo. Those whom you think your friends are 
 but flatterers, and I know that many of them do not 
 hold you in esteem. Theirs is the friendship that 
 follows wealth. When you are gone, they will little 
 mourn, nor long remember you. 
 
 Ann. You surely don't entertain the foolish no- 
 tion that you will live on this earth forever? 
 
 Gus. Veil, it will be a long time before mine 
 last fatal illness, und venn I am gone, I am gone, 
 so vat iss de difference den vat dey t'ink. 
 
 Ann. As you realize that you can't dwell here 
 forever, why prepare for everything but death ? 
 
 Geo. Gus, when you die, this will be your 
 epitaph : 
 
 "Here crumbling lies beneath the mould 
 A man whose sole delight was gold; 
 
 Content was never once his guest, 
 Though many millions filled his chest; 
 
 For he, poor man, with all his store, 
 Died in great want — the want of more." 
 
 Gus. It don't make me feel pretty good to talk 
 aboud deat'. Dot iss de last t'ing I vant to do, iss 
 to die. 
 
is DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Geo. Well, that probably will be the last thing 
 )^ou will do. 
 
 Ann. I should think you would be ashamed to 
 be so stingy. 
 
 Gus. Veil, I radder be ashamed dan gifE avay 
 mine money. 
 
 Jnn. Nothing can excuse a want of kindness to 
 fellow creatures in distress. Why not join us in 
 our work and devote just a portion, say even half 
 of your income, for the benefit of humanity. 
 
 Gus. For v'y should I do it? 
 
 Ann. You are in a position to do so much, that 
 you could earn the gratitude of millions yet un- 
 born, and your name would be a blessed memory. 
 
 Gus. Dem t'ings don't help a dead man none, 
 I radder half de money. 
 
 Ann. When you are dead, you won't have the 
 money, anjrway. 
 
 Gus. Do you t'ink your friends iss better dan 
 mine friends? 
 
 Ann. Why do you ask? 
 
 Gus. You say mine friends come to me on ac- 
 count of mine money. Dot iss not true. I giff dem 
 nottings. You buy your friends mit vat you giff 
 dem, aint it. If you qvit giffing, don't you loose 
 dem all? 
 
 Geo. No, my friends get little or nothing from 
 me. Most of what I give is for the benefit of 
 those whom I don't know, who are not my friends ; 
 and yet — they are my brethren. One God is the 
 father of us all. He never intended that the bless- 
 ings of the earth should be hoarded by the few, while 
 the many suffer. 
 
 Ann. Most of the suffering and misery in the 
 
ACT III 79 
 
 world come from the unequal distribution of 
 wealth. It is an artificial condition — man made — 
 nursed and fostered by those whose sole ambition 
 it is to heap up stupendous fortunes at the expense 
 of the toiling millions. These know life only as 
 a bitter struggle for existence. 
 
 Gus. You alvays talk charity. I say again, mit 
 you eferyt'ing iss charity. 
 
 Ann. If everyone did right and there were un- 
 iversal fair dealing in the world, earth would be 
 a heaven, and there would be no need of charity. 
 
 Gus. You are satisfied mit how you giff your 
 money avay last year? 
 
 Ann. Yes. 
 
 Geo. Yes, more than satisfied. 
 
 Gus. Dot iss goot. You both are satisfied mit 
 how you giff yours avay; I am satisfied mit how I 
 keep mine. We are all dree satisfied; so let's make 
 no more talk aboud it. 
 
 Geo. Just one more question. Do you think 
 that you could get any one to look after all your 
 millions for nothing more than board and clothing. 
 
 Gus. No, no. To do dot, any man vould be 
 a great big fool. 
 
 Geo. Well, that is all you are getting out of it. 
 
 (Enter Robert.) (Greetings.) 
 
 Geo. (To Rob.) Well, what did you accom- 
 plish at the meeting? 
 
 Rob. Nothing. The commissioners reported 
 progress, and took up the entire session discussing 
 your resignation. 
 
 Gus. You vill honestly resign as gofernor? 
 
 Geo. Yes. 
 
 Gus. I vouldn't do it. Eferybody says as how 
 
8o DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 you are de best gofernor dot efer vass. 
 
 Ann. That is one thing on which I can agree 
 with Gus. Everyone is opposed to your resigna- 
 tion. 
 
 Geo. That is very gratifying. 
 
 Rob. Even the hostile newspapers are praising 
 you now. A wonderful tribute to a living man. 
 With newspapers that seek to control, it is always 
 a rule or ruin policy. Little attention do they pay 
 to whether or not the power of those in authority 
 is exercised in the cause of better government. They 
 magnify mistakes, impugn motives, belittle ideas, 
 ignore achievement, and stop at no distortion of 
 facts, or misrepresentation to bring about what they 
 desire. 
 
 Geo. That is true. But to their friends the 
 newspapers are as blindly loyal as they are blindly 
 hostile to their opponents. Only about the things 
 in which they have no interest, do they make an 
 honest effort to learn and print true facts. 
 
 Gus. I hear eferybody say you should not re- 
 sign. Dey say if you stay gofernor, you be pres- 
 ident. You be a great man. 
 
 Geo. The most useful man is the greatest. That 
 is why I am resigning. I believe that I can accom- 
 plish the most good, and be most useful by devot- 
 ing my entire time to the proper distribution of the 
 immense wealth which Providence has placed under 
 my control. There are hundreds of others who 
 can acceptably fill my position as governor. I con- 
 sider it my duty to resign. 
 
 Gus. Dot iss not right. If you resign I can't 
 tell people de gofernor iss mine partner. Venn I 
 tell dem dot, dey t'ink me somebody. 
 
ACT III 8i 
 
 Geo. I never thought of it in that light. 
 
 Gus. I vould gifiE vun hundert dollars if I could 
 say dot de president iss mine partner, und if me und 
 Gretchen could visit him in de Vite House. 
 
 Geo. Much as I would like to pry you loose 
 from so much money, I refuse to be President. 
 
 Gus. How you refuse to be President so easy, 
 surprises me. 
 
 Rob. It looks as if you will have to offer the 
 Presidency to some one else. 
 
 Gus. V'en you stop being gofernor. 
 
 Geo. Next month after the legislature adjourns. 
 I want to see half a dozen or more laws enacted; 
 one of which provides for an inheritance tax. 
 
 Gus. Aint ve got more as plenty taxes now? 
 Vat kind of a vun is dot — ^vot you call it? 
 
 Geo. An inheritance tax. It means that when a 
 rich man dies, part of his property goes to the state. 
 The richer he is, the heavier the tax. I want the 
 state to get half of all a man leaves in excess of one 
 million. 
 
 Gus. You don't mean if I die de state takes more 
 und more until it gets almost half mine money. 
 
 Geo. That is the idea. 
 
 Gus. You chust choke to tease me, aint it? 
 
 Geo. No. 
 
 Gus. If I leave a hundret millions, you vant to 
 state to get almost fifty millions of mine money? 
 
 Geo. Yes. 
 
 Gus. Dot be no taxes. Dot be robbery. Dot 
 be unconstitutional. So long I liff, I vould not let 
 mine estate pay dot. I vould fight it. I aint afraid, 
 aber it vorries me. You better resign right avay. 
 Vat else you got ? 
 
82 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Geo. Nothing else that need excite you. I can't 
 explain them now, but I want to see enacted a work- 
 men's compensation act, an eight-hour law, a blue 
 sky law for corporations, a law regulating child la- 
 bor, a law to punish false advertising, pure food 
 laws, especially one to compel all packers to stamp 
 on every can and package of food the exact date 
 when it was put up, and social hygiene laws. 
 
 Gus. I got such a headache; I go home now. 
 
 Rob. (At desk. Takes papers from drawers.) 
 You had better take this with you. 
 
 Gus. Vat iss it? 
 
 Rob. Your naturalization papers. I got them 
 this morning. (Hands papers to Gus.) 
 
 Gus. (Unfolds paper and looks at it.) Dot iss 
 goot. Dot iss fine. I am now a native born citizen. 
 
 Rob. While you are here, I want you to sign 
 this affidavit. 
 
 (Gus signs.) 
 
 Rob. Raise your right hand. You solemnly 
 swear that the facts stated in this affidavit are true, 
 as you verily believe, so help you God? 
 
 Gus. Yes, I do. Vat iss it? 
 
 Rob. Your oath as a director of the Bismark 
 Mining Company. 
 
 Gus. (Noticing letters on desk.) You got all 
 dem letters to-day? 
 
 Rob. Yes. 
 
 Gus. I get so many letters as dot efery day. 
 More as dree fourt's vant money. 
 
 Rob. How do you answer them? 
 
 Gus. So qvick I find out vat dey vant I put 
 dem in de vaste basket unopened. Oh, gofernor, 
 I know somet'ing I vant to tell you und Ann, aber 
 
ACT III 83 
 
 it iss a secret, und I vant nobody to know it. All 
 dree of you say nottings. 
 
 Ann. Then why tell us? Can't you keep a 
 secret ? 
 
 Gus. Yes, I can keep a secret, aber de people I 
 tell dem to don't. 
 
 Ann. Then don't tell us. 
 
 Gus. I von't, aber it iss too funny not to tell. 
 Jasper Church for more as two veeks vants to 
 marry mine Gretchen, und asks me about it many 
 times. 
 
 Ann. Does Gretchen want to marry him? 
 
 Gus. Vat Gretchen vants makes no difference. 
 I don't vant she shall marry him, und Gretchen 
 don't vant it, too; Ain't dot funny. Venn I am 
 poor he makes fun of me und Gretchen. Now he 
 vants de man he called Dutch, for his fader-in-law. 
 
 Geo. Strange things do happen. That gives 
 Jasper the refusal of three of the finest girls I know, 
 Ann, Ruth, and Gretchen. 
 
 Gus. I haff anoder secret. Dis vun you must 
 not tell anybody at all, eider. Lord Nowit, I t'ink, 
 maybe loves Gretchen I know, und vants me for 
 fader-in-law. Dot makes me glad, den mine daugh- 
 ter iss Lady Nowit some day maybe. 
 
 Ann. You ought to be proud of Gretchen. 
 
 Gus. I am. I bin dot girl's fader all her life. 
 
 Geo. Gretchen and Lord Nowit will make an 
 excellent match and I look forward to seeing your 
 hopes fulfilled. 
 
 Rob. Marriage may generally be regarded as 
 a lottery, but this marriage would not be. Each 
 would be assured of the greatest prize on earth; 
 the one an excellent husband; the other an ex- 
 
84 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 ceptional wife. 
 
 Geo. More than your greatest expectations have 
 been realized in many ways. 
 
 Gus. Yes, dot iss true; aber I t'ought dey 
 would. I got mine automobile to-day. 
 
 Rob. How do you like it? 
 
 Gus. It iss fine, aber it skiddooed mit us dis 
 morning. 
 
 Rob, You mean skidded? 
 
 Gus. Veil, one of dem both; dere aint no differ- 
 ence. 
 
 {Gus shudders.) 
 
 Geo. What is the matter? Still frightened 
 because of the skidding? 
 
 Gus. Ach, no. Silk undervear, it itches, dot's 
 vot. {Scratches.) I got to go now. Be sure, Ann, 
 to pay no more as vun hundert dollars for dem 
 books. I guess dey trust me for de money. 
 
 Ann. Very well. 
 
 {Exit Gus.) 
 
 Rob. Gus practices economy more faithfully 
 than a poor man. 
 
 Jnn. Yes. You would have enjoyed our con- 
 versation this morning. We were trying to get him 
 to give according to his means. 
 
 Rob. But like most others, he gives according to 
 his meanness. 
 
 Geo. Experience has taught me that when a man 
 wants money or assistance, the world is, as a rule, 
 very obliging, and lets him — ^want it. 
 
 Ann. I think benevolence is a sentiment com- 
 mon to human nature. One very seldom sees an- 
 other in distress without wishing some third person 
 to relieve him. 
 
ACT in 85 
 
 Geo. {to Rob.) Are there any matters requiring 
 my personal attention at present? 
 
 Rob. No, but you received a most complimen- 
 tary letter from the president. 
 
 Geo. He is not, offering me his position, or 
 wanting to make me his deputy, is he? 
 
 Rob. No, he is not so generous with the office 
 of President as Gus is. 
 
 Geo. What did he write? 
 
 Rob. He wrote to congratulate you on your 
 stand against war. His letter is long, but ends as 
 follows: (Reads.) 
 
 I believe, with you, that war will soon be a thing 
 of the past, and placed in the same fiendish category 
 as the rack, the stake and the inquisition. Great 
 strides have been made in moral advancement during 
 the last twenty years, and the day is fast approach- 
 ing when universal peace — a paradise worth having 
 — ^will have come to earth. You have worked mir- 
 acles in the past year with the $1,500,000 that you 
 have devoted to this work, notwithstanding that 
 growth in this direction is slow and must be deter- 
 mined and directed by the moral sentiment. 
 
 I realize that no man, be he ever so wise, can of 
 himself, and no nation, be it ever so advanced, can 
 of itself accomplish so much; though on the other 
 hand I agree with you, that all men of all nations 
 striving therefor can, should and will, sooner or 
 later, attain the desired end. By distributing prizes 
 to the high school students throughout the nation for 
 essays on this subject, you have chosen the most fer- 
 tile field, and the one where the deepest and most 
 lasting impressions will result. You have caused al- 
 most all of these students and many of their parents 
 
86 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 to devote much time and thought to a consideration 
 of the evils of war, and of the absolute efficiency of 
 arbitration as a remedy, thereby hastening to a happy 
 maturity that which is now surely the most impor- 
 tant bud of advancing civilization. Your system is 
 bringing this crying necessity before the minds of the 
 most able and influential at this most opportune time, 
 when every man in the country with a mind large 
 enough to be visible to the eye of intelligence is 
 thinking in that line. Thousands of invaluable ideas 
 are being circulated by reason thereof, and after a 
 few years of such a sunshine of intelligence in that 
 direction, the result will meet your highest expec- 
 tation, and the world will be ripe for the desired 
 step. 
 
 It is my purpose to ask Congress to appropriate 
 an amount equal to the cost of only one battleship 
 to be used along the lines that you have marked 
 out. By using the cost of only one battleship annual- 
 ly, we could soon create a force more potent against 
 war than the most powerful navy the ingenuity of 
 man could assemble. Other nations would follow 
 our example, and the day of universal peace, instead 
 of being an iridescent dream, would soon become a 
 magnificent reality. 
 
 Ann. You should be proud of such a letter. 
 
 Geo, I am. 
 
 Rob. The Governor has received dozens of let- 
 ters equally gratifying, though not from so high a 
 source. To assist in preventing the misery and suf- 
 fering caused by war, to stop its rivers of blood, and 
 dry its seas of tears, is an ambition of which any 
 man might be proud. 
 
 Geo. I am going into my private office. I hav« 
 
ACT III 87 
 
 much to do, and will sec no one until this after- 
 noon. 
 
 {Exit Geo.) 
 
 Ann. I nearly forgot that I have a quarrel with 
 you. 
 
 Rob. You can't quarrel with me. Have I of- 
 fended you? 
 
 Ann. Yes, indeed. 
 
 Rob. I apologize. What have I done? 
 
 Ann. You passed me yesterday without looking 
 at me. 
 
 Rob. If I had looked at you, I never should 
 have passed. 
 
 Ann. You excuse yourself so prettily that I can- 
 not take offense. 
 
 Rob. Then don't. 
 
 Ann. I won't, but don't let it occur again. 
 
 Rob. I promise. It is just one year today since 
 I first met you. 
 
 Ann. I know it. 
 
 Rob. Had you thought of it? 
 
 Ann. Yes, why? 
 
 Rob. Oh, I just wondered. 
 
 Ann. Is it any more strange that I should re- 
 member it than that you should? 
 
 Rob. Yes, it wasn't so important an event for 
 you as it was for me. 
 
 Ann. Well, it was important enough to remem- 
 ber. 
 
 Rob. I am pleased to know that. 
 
 Ann. I must hav^ been a sight when you first 
 saw me. 
 
 Rob. You were. 
 
 Ann. A fright, I mean. I was so provoked to 
 
88 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 have a blowout the first time I had ever taken the 
 car for a long drive alone; and more provoked 
 when after an hour's work I had made little or no 
 progress toward changing tires; and most provoked 
 to think that all my trouble was brought about by 
 the intoxication of my chauffeur. 
 
 Rob. I appeared at the psychological moment. 
 
 Ann. You did, indeed. 
 
 Rob. The story of our meeting reads like a 
 page from a novel. Drunken chauffeur; indignant 
 lady; chauffeur discharged; lady drives car alone; 
 tire blows out; lady in distress; passing stranger of- 
 fers aid; replaces tire; lady grateful; gives stranger 
 position as chauffeur ; he holds it eleven months ; then 
 through her influence becomes secretary to the Gov- 
 ernor of California. Sounds like a romance, doesn't 
 it? Its remarkable. 
 
 Ann. More remarkable are the far reaching ef- 
 fects. 
 
 Rob. In what way do you mean? 
 
 Ann. Your ideas and assistance to the Governor 
 and to me have worked wonders. 
 
 Rob. Isn't it strange how often events which one 
 had not dared even to hope for, come to pass un- 
 expectedly and by chance? 
 
 Ann. Yes. Often what seems a trifle — a mere 
 nothing in itself, turns the scale of Fate and changes 
 the trend of a life. 
 
 Rob. That day surely changed mine. Broken 
 in health from overwork at college, without funds, 
 ordered by the doctor to take a vacation in the open 
 air and to give up my ambition to follow a literary 
 career, I found you in need of a chauffeur. I knew 
 how to drive a car, offered my services, and when 
 
ACT III 89 
 
 you agreed to let me have the position, it was my 
 salvation. 
 
 Ann. And it proved the salvation of many oth- 
 ers. 
 
 Rob. Substract all that I owe to chance, to op- 
 portunity, and to you, and but little will remain for 
 which I deserve credit. 
 
 Ann. Opportunity does not supply generous mo- 
 tives, nor does chance create ability. 
 
 Rob. You were the inspiration that enlisted tal- 
 ents that otherwise would have lain dormant. I 
 was plunged deep in bitterness that came from be- 
 lieving the ambition of my life could not be realized. 
 You were the star whose bright rays reached me in 
 my gloom — ^you were the beacon that led me out of 
 the shadows. 
 
 Ann. It makes me very happy to feel that I have 
 helped you. But you flatter me when you give me 
 so much credit for the fine things that you have 
 done. 
 
 Rob. It is only the truth. I have said little to 
 you of the great obligation I feel for all that you 
 have done for me, but I do want you to understand 
 how much you are responsible for the very things 
 for which you praise me. 
 
 Ann. You make me responsible for much. But 
 it is a welcome responsibility. If you have found me 
 an inspiration, it is because I have found an an- 
 swering inspiration in you. 
 
 Rob. You have been more than an inspiration to 
 me. I have been driven by a divine power, created 
 by my love for you. I love you. I love you be- 
 cause I must love you. It is not within my power 
 not to love you. 
 
90 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 {Takes her hand,) 
 
 Tell me you are not angry at what I have said. 
 
 Ann. I am not angry. 
 
 Rob. May I hope that in time you will learn 
 to love me? 
 
 Ann. I have already learned that. 
 
 Rob. And do you love me? 
 
 Ann. Yes. {Kiss.) 
 
 Rob. Is anything sweeter than the consciousness 
 of true love? 
 
 Ann. Yes, it is sweeter to know that you love 
 me. 
 
 Rob. I do love you. And it were but little, 
 could I say how much. It seems as if I have al- 
 ways loved you. 
 
 Ann. Isn't it difficult to know at what moment 
 love begins? 
 
 Rob. Yes. It is a thing divine — a gift from 
 Heaven, unswayed by our control. It seizes on us 
 suddenly without giving warning. It cannot be pre- 
 meditated. The most precious possession that ever 
 comes to a man in this world is a woman's heart. 
 
 Ann. Your love makes earth a paradise for me, 
 and life most sublimely grand and glorious — It's a 
 mighty solemn thing to get married, isn't it? 
 
 Rob. Yes, but wouldn't it be more solemn not 
 to? A man would have no pleasure in discovering 
 all the beauties of the universe, even in Heaven it- 
 self, unless he had a partner to whom he might com- 
 municate his joys. How I wish I could tell you of 
 the delight, the joy, the ecstasy, which your love im- 
 parts; words fail me^ — Do you know, I believe the 
 man who invented the English language never was 
 in love. 
 
ACT III 91 
 
 Ann. Why? 
 
 Rob. He didn't invent any words to express it. 
 Ann. You're a darling. Doesn't that express it? 
 Rob. Splendidly. (Kiss.) 
 
 {Curtain) 
 
ACT IV 
 
 One week later. 
 
 {Same as Act III. Nogi dusting vigorously. 
 Enter Lord N.) 
 
 Lord N. I see Miss Ann is not here, is she? 
 
 Nogi. No sir. 
 
 Lord N. I will wait for her. 
 
 Nogi. Yes sir. Take a chair. 
 
 Lord N. I am Lord No wit. 
 
 Nogi. Yes sir. Yes sir. Take two chairs. Right 
 away when I know who you are I recognize you. 
 Miss Ann sure be here soon. 
 
 (Enter Ann. Greetings.) 
 
 Lord N. How is Gretchen this morning? 
 
 Ann. She is comfortable and much more calm 
 than she has been since her father's death. 
 
 Lord N. That is good news, really. 
 
 Ann. She said she would like to see you after 
 luncheon. 
 
 Lord N. I am pleased to hear that, indeed I 
 am. You know I must thank you for your extreme 
 kindness to Gretchen. When she heard of the au- 
 tomobile accident by which her father was killed, 
 it was such a frightful shock to her. The dear girl, 
 you know, was left without a relative, and what 
 she needed, really, was just such a friend as you 
 have been to her. I say, Miss Ann, I am very, very 
 grateful to you. 
 
 Ann. Gretchen has been very brave in her mis- 
 92 
 
ACT IV 93 
 
 fortune. She is a wonderful girl. 
 
 Lord N, Isn't she, though? 
 
 Jnn. No daughter was ever more devoted to 
 a father, than she, although she was so superior to 
 him in every way. 
 
 Lord N. I observed that very often, and really 
 adored her the more for it. 
 
 Ann. She never acted toward him as if she felt 
 that he was her inferior. 
 
 Lord N. It was a very clever idea of yours that 
 I should marry Gretchen. Since our engagement, 
 I have actually grown quite fond of the girl. 
 
 Ann. I am sure that you will love her and that 
 you will be happy together. 
 
 Lord N. Aw, yes. Most assuredly. 
 
 (Enter Frank. Greetings.) 
 
 Fr. I expected to find Lucille here with you. 
 
 Ann. No, I left her with Ruth. They will be 
 down later. 
 
 Fr. I am disappointed. I looked forward to 
 seeing her. 
 
 Lord N. She is really a most engaging young- 
 ster. 
 
 Fr. You should have heard her spell cat last 
 night. 
 
 Ann. How did she spell it? 
 
 Fr. Guess. 
 
 Ann. K-a-t. 
 
 Fr. No. 
 
 Lord N. K-a-t-t. 
 
 Fr. No. 
 
 Lord N. C-a-t-t. 
 
 Fr. No. 
 
 Lord N. C-a-t-e. 
 
94 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Fr, No. 
 
 Lord N. C-a-a-t. 
 
 Fr. No. 
 
 Lord N, Well, then, how did she spell it? 
 
 Fr. C-a-t. 
 
 Lord N. Aw, but that is the way one really 
 spells cat, isn't it, now? I feel that it is time for 
 me to be going. 
 
 {Exit Lord N.) 
 
 Ann. You are never satisfied unless you can jest 
 at Lord Nowit's expense. 
 
 Fr. He is such a good subject. He lends him- 
 self so readily to a jest. 
 
 Ann. Many a word spoken in jest sinks deeper 
 than ever was intended or expected and causes un- 
 necessary pain. 
 
 Fr. Well said, and true. But Lord Nowit 
 causes me a lot of unnecessary pain. Let me give 
 you a painless one on him. The other day he was 
 talking about the servants he expects to have after 
 his marriage to Gretchen; and he said: "Tell me, 
 dear boy, do these Japs they have about the house- 
 hold bathe the dishes?" 
 
 Here's another on him. Last Sunday he was 
 suffering from tooth ache, and asked me for medi- 
 cine to relieve the pain. In the course of the con- 
 versation he remarked: ''Wouldn't it have been a 
 great blessing to have been born without teeth?" I 
 replied, "Well, weren't you?" His expression was 
 worth traveling miles to see. 
 
 He reminds me of something I want to forget. 
 
 Ann. Well, let's forget him, for the present. 
 
 Fr. Agreed. There are a few other things I 
 want to forget. 
 
ACT IV 95 
 
 linn. For instance? 
 
 Fr. I want to forget my misfortunes. 
 
 Ann. Wouldn't it be better to remember them, 
 and avoid them? 
 
 Fr. I have tried, and tried. You don't know 
 how hard I have tried, but I can't, here. I am 
 going away from it all. I have been appointd first 
 lieutenant in the Fifth Cavalrj^ and am going to ac- 
 cept it. The regiment has been ordered to the front, 
 and I will leave tomorrow to join it. We will be 
 under fire within a month. 
 
 Ann. Please, Frank, don't do that; for my sake, 
 don't do that. 
 
 Fr. It is too late. I have already been appoint- 
 ed. 
 
 Ann. But you don't have to accept. 
 
 Fr. Yes, I have decided. Conditions here have 
 become intolerable. 
 
 Ann. You have made the conditions; you can 
 change them. Be the man that you are. The place 
 to fight it out is here. 
 
 Fr. You must think me depraved. 
 
 Ann. No man who shows such love as you have 
 for little Lucille and as you have shown for me, can 
 be quite depraved. 
 
 Fr. If we were not cousins, I wonder if I might 
 not have won your love. 
 
 Ann. No, it is not that. We were brought up 
 together. You have been more brother than cousin 
 to me, and I have taken a sister's privilege of scold- 
 ing you for your sins. With all your faults, I have 
 grown to love you as dearly as any sister could. 
 
 Fr. But only as a sister. For years I hoped 
 that you might be more than cousin or sister to me. 
 
96 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 I remember, on your tenth birthday, some one ask- 
 ed why I did not marry. I said I would if I could 
 find a girl who would have me. You instantly look- 
 ed up at me and said : '*Why, I will marry you. I 
 love you." From that day I have lived in the hope 
 that as a young lady of twenty you would keep that 
 promise. It meant so much to me. You were my 
 ideal in every way. I frequently gave you trifles, 
 and on giving you a ring when you were about 
 twelve, you put your arms around my neck, told 
 me how very much you loved me, and said : "Don't 
 always buy me presents. I would love you just as 
 much anyhow." You did love me until at the age 
 of seventeen, you went away to school. You were 
 gone two years. When you returned, your attitude 
 changed decidedly. You have never been the same 
 to me since that time. You did love me, didn't 
 you, Ann ? 
 
 Ann. I did, very much; and I still do. 
 
 Fr. But why did you change so? 
 
 Ann. I changed because I saw that you had 
 changed. 
 
 Fr. Why, I loved you then even more than be- 
 fore. 
 
 Ann. The change to which I refer was not in 
 your feelings toward me. Your standard of man- 
 hood had changed. When I went away to school, 
 you were clean, high-minded, honorable, respected 
 and ambitious. When I returned, I found you with- 
 out ambition, drinking, gambling, selfish; a cynic, 
 sneering and scoffing at those qualities which I had 
 admired in you. You had lost your self-respect, and 
 were losing the respect of others. 
 
 Fr. If you had married me on your return, all 
 
ACT IV 97 
 
 would have been different. You would have saved 
 me. 
 
 Ann. If a man's innate self-respect does not 
 save him, all the female influence in the universe 
 would not avail. 
 
 Fr. You have always been sisterly in your frank- 
 ness, to say the least. 
 
 Ann. Few persons have the wisdom to prefer 
 censure, which is useful to them, to praise, which de- 
 ceives them. 
 
 Fr. Don't censure me now. I am going. Will 
 you kiss me good-bye? 
 
 Ann. Certainly, but your going distresses me. 
 If you feel that I can be of help to you, stay and 
 give me the privilege. Most of your shortcomings 
 are due to liquor. No habit, custom or practice is 
 so powerful that it may not be subdued by discipline. 
 You can cease drinking as easily as you can open 
 your hand. 
 
 Fr. What do you mean ? 
 
 Ann. Simply this. {Takes glass.) Whenever 
 you start to raise liquor to your lips, open your hand. 
 {Opens her hand and glass drops to floor.) 
 
 Fr. I can, and I will. Let this be my parting 
 pledge to you, — one that I will not break. Good- 
 bye. {Kiss.) 
 
 Ann. Don't say good-bye. I love you for that 
 promise, and I do believe you will keep it. Make 
 me just one more promise. 
 
 Fr. What is it? 
 
 Ann. That you will not join the army. 
 
 Fr. You are asking too much. Am I too good to 
 5erve my country? 
 
 Ann. No, love of country is a lofty virtue. But 
 
98 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 you can better serve it with your life than by your 
 death. And you are too good to commit murder in 
 the name of war. 
 
 Fr, Murder? Nonsense! You are sentimental. 
 You don't understand. 
 
 Ann. It is you who do not understand. 
 
 "War, cruel war, is only splendid murder; 
 One murder marks the assassin's odious name, 
 But millions bring the hero into fame." 
 
 Fr. You malign all the heroes of the past. 
 
 Ann. No, no. I would not do that. But times 
 have changed. We have reached that point in civ- 
 ilization where war is no longer necessary. 
 
 Fr. It is ridiculous to compare a soldier in battle 
 with an assassin. The soldier strikes only for his 
 country ; the assassin is the enemy of his country and 
 strikes only for his own sordid ends. 
 
 Ann. Is death more cruel from the private dag- 
 ger than in the field visited upon thousands by the 
 hands of thousands? 
 
 Fr. War is necessary, always has been, and al- 
 ways will be. It is man's nature to fight. A nation 
 is merely a great number of individuals. To a na- 
 tion, war typifies the same spirit that impels a man 
 to resort to his fists. If one nation infringes upon 
 the rights of another, then must that other nation 
 resort to war to protect itself. 
 
 Ann. What you say is true of men in a state of 
 barbarism. But in so far as we are removed from 
 barbarism, just so far are we removed from the 
 necessity for war. As courts have taken the place of 
 fighting, to settle individual differences, as well as 
 
ACT IV 99 
 
 differences between cities, counties and states, so an 
 international court can be used to settle all differ- 
 ences between nations. 
 
 Fr. God created man with this fighting spirit in 
 him. To subdue it, you must change human nature. 
 That is impossible. Until the impossible is accom- 
 plished, a court of peace will be impossible. 
 
 Ann. It is not necessary to change human nature. 
 Human nature does not demand war, with all its 
 passion, hatred, envy and greed; its ravaging and 
 raging; its famine, want and misery. In every man, 
 there is an inborn instinct for fair play. Human 
 nature does not insist that might makes right; but 
 rather, that the weak shall not suffer injustice be- 
 cause of the strength of the mighty. Study history 
 and learn what wonders have been accomplished by 
 arbitration, where right prevails, without sorrow, de- 
 vastation and death. In this country, more than 
 eighty controversies which might otherwise have led 
 to war between civilized nations, have been settled 
 by arbitration. 
 
 Fr. "As long as there is injustice in the world, 
 men will make war against it!" 
 
 Ann. That is true, and for that very reason war 
 will be abolished, because war itself is the greatest 
 injustice and iniquity. "It is the foulest fiend ever 
 loosed from Hell." It enables the strong to tread 
 upon the weak. Its heaviest burdens fall upon those 
 least able to bear them. To the soldier slain in 
 battle, death is the end; but the heavy hand of war 
 oppresses the widow and orphan long after the sol- 
 dier's requiem is stilled. War proves nothing, save 
 which nation is stronger. It has no relation to jus- 
 tice. 
 
100 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 Fr. "Wars will not cease as long as men have 
 ambition, pride, love of liberty and courage." 
 
 Ann. Those are the very things that will make 
 war impossible — true ambition, true pride, true love 
 of liberty, true courage. There is no worthy ambi- 
 tion which does not seek the welfare of mankind. 
 How much better for the human race to enjoy the 
 blessings of peace than to groan under the tortures 
 of war. That pride is false pride which can be 
 gratified in no other way than by grinding the 
 wealth and manhood of a nation in the mills of war, 
 producing a grist of poverty, cripples and death. If 
 you love liberty, you must hate war, because war 
 restrains the liberty of the strong and destroys the 
 liberty of the weak. Courage is only deserving of 
 the name when it stands simply for right and jus- 
 tice, "A valiant and brave soldier seeks rather to 
 preserve one citizen than to destroy a thousand ene- 
 mies." 
 
 Fr. Well, suppose a court of peace were estab- 
 lished, how could it ever enforce its decrees? 
 
 Ann. The same spirit which would impel na- 
 tions to submit to arbitration would impel them to 
 accept the verdict. In the future as in the past, the 
 honor of nations will suffice. 
 
 Fr. But suppose it didn't? 
 
 Ann. The united power of all the civilized na- 
 tions would be behind the court, just as the united 
 force of the people of this state supports the local 
 courts. A rebelling nation would be as helpless as 
 one man rebelling against all his fellow citizens. 
 
 Fr. War is not a thing to be wished for, and 
 yet it is not an unmixed evil. 
 
 Ann. It is an unmixed evil. It is all evil. What 
 
ACT IV loi 
 
 good thing comes from it? 
 
 Fr. It stimulates the manufacture of arms and 
 supplies. 
 
 Ann. Yes, and of spoiled beef, artificial arms 
 and legs, paper soled shoes, and shoddy army cloth. 
 
 Fr. The armies and navies give direct employ- 
 ment to thousands and thousands. 
 
 Ann. Yes, to hundreds upon hundreds of thous- 
 ands; to millions. 
 
 Fr. Surely not millions. 
 
 Ann. Yes. There are about three millions kept 
 under arms year after year. 
 
 Fr. That makes my argument all the stronger. 
 Then it gives employment to that many millions. 
 
 Ann. But at whose cost? That of the people, 
 principally the laborers. The present cost of the 
 armies of Europe is over $500,000,000 per year. 
 The interest on war debts paid by the people is 
 over $500,000,000 more per year. It has been well 
 said that every workingman in Europe carries on 
 his back a fully equipped soldier or sailor. 
 
 Fr. I think you have been misinformed. I think 
 those figures are exaggerated. 
 
 Ann. I obtained them from most reliable 
 sources. But discount them fifty or seventy-five per 
 cent if you like, and the result is nevertheless appal- 
 ling. *'Give me the money that has been spent in 
 war, and I could purchase almost every foot of land 
 upon the globe. I could clothe every man, woman 
 and child in attire of which kings and queens would 
 be proud. I could build a school house on every 
 hill-side, and in every valley over the whole earth. 
 I could buiTd an academy in every town, and endow 
 it; a college in every state, and fill it with able pro- 
 
I02 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 fessors. I could crown every hill with a place of 
 worship. I could support in every pulpit an able 
 teacher of righteousness, of the gospel of peace on 
 earth, good will to men." 
 
 Fr. Even your preachers of peace on earth would 
 be constantly at war among themselves. It is hard 
 to get one of them to occupy another's pulpit. It 
 is true that the cost of war has been stupendous ; but 
 the manifold advancements in human progress which 
 has been achieved on the fields of battle have justi- 
 fied it. 
 
 Ann. Be that as it may, they have not justified 
 the cost in human life. Do you know how many 
 lives were lost in the Civil War? 
 
 Fr. No, how many? 
 
 Ann. More than half a million. The slaughter 
 of every man, woman and child in the whole state 
 of Oregon would be no greater than that wrought 
 by this one war. And yet the catastrophe would not 
 be so horrible, because it would leave no cripples, 
 and would not bring sorrow and anguish to so many 
 different families, as war destroys only vigorous 
 men, most of them the mainstays of families. 
 
 Fr. Warfare now is not so inhuman as it was 
 formerly. There is not so much bloodshed, the 
 wounded are better cared for, and prisoners are 
 treated more considerately. 
 
 Ann. With all that, the horrors of war are not 
 sensibly abated. 
 
 Fr. Well, I am going. 
 
 Ann. You won't stay? 
 
 Fr. No. 
 
 Ann. Nothing I can say or do will prevent you? 
 
 Fr. Nothing. 
 
ACT IV 103 
 
 Ann. Then don't forget the promise you made 
 to Lucille. 
 
 Fr, What promise ? 
 
 Ann. That if you went to war, you would never 
 kill the father of a little girl like her. You ought 
 not to kill the father of a little boy, either. Also, 
 remember, that brothers, sweethearts, sons and hus- 
 bands should not be killed. 
 
 Fr. You have killed the spirit within me. You 
 make it impossible for me to go. 
 
 Ann. Oh, Frank, truly? 
 
 Fr. Yes, truly. 
 
 Ann. Then the spirit within you is not killed, 
 but only awakened. 
 
 Fr. You are right. 
 
 {Embrace and kiss.) 
 
 Ann. That is a noble thing for you to do. I never 
 loved you so much as I do now. (Kisses Frank. 
 Enter Robert, finds Ann in Franks arms.) 
 
 Ann. Oh, Bob, Frank has promised me that he 
 will not join the army. 
 
 Rob. Good for you, old man ; but why this sud- 
 den change? 
 
 Fr. Ann is responsible for it. Ask her. 
 
 Rob. You are a winder, Ann. 
 
 Fr. She is that. And as I could not win her, 
 there is no other man I would rather see have her 
 than you. Bob. I believe you are worthy of her. 
 You know what that means. 
 
 Rob. I do. That is a genuine compliment, and 
 I thank you for it. 
 
 Fr. I must leave you now. Au revoir, but not 
 good-bye. 
 
 Rob. Before you go, I insist on your returning 
 
104 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 the kiss I saw you take from Ann. 
 
 Ann, My master's voice. Heed it. 
 
 Fr, Willingly. {Kiss,) 
 
 {Frank shakes hands with Robert, Exit,) 
 
 Rob, You are a girl of girls. With you to live 
 is not merely to breathe; it is to act. How did you 
 persuade Frank to stay out of the army ? You must 
 have hypnotized him. 
 
 Ann, I just reminded him of his promise to 
 Lucille. 
 
 Rob. And that did it? 
 
 Ann. Yes, after all my arguments had failed. By 
 the way we have an invitation to a very elaborate 
 affair which Mrs. Allrich intends giving two weeks 
 from tonight. Do you want to accept? 
 
 Rob. Just as you please. 
 
 Ann. The Four Hundred will be there. I guess 
 they can manage to get along without us. Let's not 
 go. 
 
 Rob. All right. Why is it that the Four Hun- 
 dred won't mix with the Five Hundred or the Three 
 Hundred much better than oil does with water? 
 
 Ann. I have often wondered at that. Many are 
 kept in position mainly by their pinnacles of gold. 
 The leaders of society are chosen from those having 
 the highest pinnacles; whether knave or blockhead 
 is of little consequence. 
 
 Rob. Wonderful leaders they, really slaves to it. 
 Busily engaged in the frivolous work of polished 
 idleness ; elevating their heels instead of their minds. 
 
 Ann. With them it is anything to make time 
 fly. 
 
 Rob, And in the effort, they divide themselves 
 into two classes — the bores and the bored. They 
 
ACT IV 105 
 
 pursue nothing but pleasure. Their round of life is 
 to play, to eat and to sleep. They profess to love 
 life, yet they squander time, the stufE that life is 
 made of. 
 
 Ann. I should think such a life of pleasure the 
 most unpleasing life in the world. 
 
 Rob. And the most selfish. 
 
 Ann. Yes. Few of them ever dream of trying 
 to make the world a better place to live in, or of 
 extending the hand of brotherhood to the needy, the 
 sick, or the fallen. 
 
 Rob. They may dream of it in dreams that are 
 but dreams. Such thoughts would never enter their 
 minds while awake. They are foreign to the self 
 imposed and all absorbing obligations of high soci- 
 ety. 
 
 Ann. We should not be too severe on the Four 
 Hundred — many give quite liberally of their sur- 
 plus cash. 
 
 Rob. Of their surplus cash — ^well chosen words. 
 Metallic aid; often a small percentage of the sur- 
 plus given to square themselves; as a balm to their 
 consciences, and to open the gates of Paradise. No 
 heart or soul or spirit is in the gift. 
 
 {Enter Mrs. W . and Ruth. Greetings.) 
 
 Ann. Where are Lucille and Junior? I thought 
 that you would bring them both. 
 
 Mrs. W. We had Lucille, but Frank just stole 
 her from us. The maid took Junior to the park. 
 
 Ann. I'm disappointed. 
 
 Rob. So am I. I wanted to congratulate Junior 
 on his second birthday. He's a great chap. 
 
 Mrs. W. Isn't it wonderful how these little tots 
 endear themselves. Junior is such a mischief, and 
 
io6 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 so bright; the most perfect little darling ever born. 
 He resembles his father more and more each day. 
 I am so proud of him. 
 
 Ruth. Then it's because he so resembles his fath- 
 er that he is such a wonder. Think of your daugh- 
 ter. 
 
 Mrs. W. You know I mean no reflection. You 
 are as proud of the likeness as I am. May it devel- 
 op in all ways. Night and morning I pray that he 
 may be as good a man as his father. No better was 
 ever created. 
 
 Rob. That's true. Junior is getting to be quite 
 a chatterbox, isn't he? 
 
 Mrs. W . Oh, I must tell you what he said to 
 Mrs. Brown this morning. She called, and while 
 there Lucille gave the boy a whistle. He was con- 
 stantly blowing it and so I said: "Don't blow the 
 whistle till the lady goes." Quick as a flash he 
 went to Mrs. Brown and said: "Lady go. Lady, 
 go." We just screamed. {All laugh.) 
 
 Mrs. W. Where is the Governor? 
 
 Rob. He will be here soon. 
 
 Mrs. W. I can't be reconciled to his resignation. 
 It seems a pity for him to give up his office as gov- 
 ernor and his chances of being president. It would 
 be a great honor for him, and he in turn would 
 be an honor to the nation. He is the calibre of 
 which presidents should be made. He combines all 
 the manly virtues. He has the heart to conceive the 
 best interests of the people, the understanding to 
 direct, and the power to execute. 
 
 {Enters George. Greetings.) 
 
 Ruth. You should have heard the nice speech 
 mother just made about ypu. She wants to bestow 
 
ACT IV 10:7 
 
 the presidency upon you. 
 
 Geo. I guess that is the same office I refused 
 from Gus last week. Having refused his offer, it 
 docs not seem right that I should accept it from any 
 one else. 
 
 Mrs. W. Don't joke. I am serious. You really 
 should be president. 
 
 Geo. Yours is an opinion common to mothers. 
 Most of them think their boys should be president. 
 
 We have just probated Gus' will. 
 
 Mrs. W. Oh, I am just dying to know what he 
 did with his property. Tell us all about it. 
 
 Roh. Who drew the will? 
 
 Geo. Judge Marshall. Gus wanted me to draw 
 it, but his desires were so contrary to my ideas of 
 right that I refused. 
 
 Mrs. W. Did he leave it all to Gretchen? 
 
 Geo. Well, Gretchen will get most of it if she 
 lives long enough. He creates a trust providing for 
 the accumulation of his fortune for as long a period 
 as the law will permit, and gives Gretchen a very 
 small part of the income each year. 
 
 Ruth. I wonder why he did that? 
 
 Roh. He was keen. He knew Gretchen's dis- 
 position and her generous impulses and no doubt 
 feared that she would disburse the greater part in 
 much the same way as the Governor and Ann are 
 doing with theirs. 
 
 Mrs. W. It wouldn't surprise me if Lord Now- 
 it would refuse to marry her under such conditions. 
 
 Ann. It would surprise me, very much. You 
 don't know Lord Nowit. He is a noble fellow, gen- 
 erous to a fault. 
 
 Geo. Yes, after the earthquake he tried in half 
 
io8 DOLLARS AND SENSE 
 
 a dozen ways to help me most substantially, and 
 was highly indignant when I refused to let him. He 
 even wanted to quarrel with me because I wouldn't 
 borrow fifty thousand from him on my note with- 
 out interest. 
 
 Rob. He always wants to be in on the ground 
 floor when there is an opportunity to do good. I 
 never met a more sincere man, nor one more modest 
 with his help. 
 
 Ann. If Lord Nowit had the say, he would 
 want Gretchen to use all the income from her fath- 
 er's estate for philanthropic purposes. 
 
 Ruth. How strangely he is misjudged. How 
 little his real character is appreciated. 
 
 Rob. Lord Nowit is the very opposite of Gus. 
 Tell us more about the will. 
 
 Geo. It is prefaced, "In the name of God, 
 Amen," and it is the most ungodlike document I 
 ever read. He gave $10,000 to the church, and 
 $3,000,000 for a monument to himself, to be known 
 as the Geldmacher monument. In the will he gives 
 detailed plans. He takes the Washington monu-^ 
 ment as a pattern, and proceeds to outdo it. His 
 is to cost twice as much, be two hundred feet higher, 
 all of marble, and very elaborate. 
 
 Rob. He gives to the hungry a stone. 
 
 Geo. Yes, and he wants it set up in Golden 
 Gate park, and if permission is refused, then he 
 wants the trustees of his estate to purchase the most 
 suitable acre bordering on the park for that purpose. 
 
 Rob. The authorities surely will not permit it 
 in the park, and they ought not permit it any place 
 within the city limits. "Those only deserve a mon- 
 ument who have raised themselves a monument in 
 
ACT IV 109 
 
 the heart and memories of men. No man who needs 
 a monument ever ought to have one." If I could 
 prevent the erection of such a monument in any 
 place, I would be tempted to do so. 
 
 Ann. I wouldn't, dear. The marble will keep 
 merely a cold and sad memory of a man who would 
 otherwise be forgotten, and be a monumental lesson 
 against selfishness. If this monument is erected, 
 nearly all the money will go to pay the wages of 
 workingmen, instead of being hoarded indefinitely 
 with the rest of his millions. 
 
 Rob. There never was a cloud too dark for 
 you to find its silver lining. A fortunate trait, in- 
 deed. 
 
 Ruth. I wonder if he doesn't realize now that it 
 would have been better for him to have lived rich 
 than to have died rich. 
 
 Rob. I hope so; otherwise he will be rejoicing in 
 the fact that he beat the inheritance tax, and that 
 the State won't get any part of his fortune. 
 
 Geo. He was rich with the riches that he neither 
 gave nor enjoyed. But it is not for me to criticize 
 him. He is not here to defend himself. He has 
 passed beyond the mists that blind us here, to face 
 a Judge of infinite wisdom. ''There is so much 
 good in the worst of us, and so much bad in the 
 best of us, that it hardly behooves any of us to talk 
 about the rest of us." 
 
 {Curtain.)