NO PLAYS EXCHi^NGKIK 519 115 Bamcr.'5 Edition or Pl7\y3 MR. KELLEiTfROM KALAMAZOO Price, 25 Cents THF AMA7ANS I^o® l^ Three Acts. Seven males, live females. llUi AiIlAi4 l*? Coetumes, modern; scenery, not difficult. Plays a txsll evening. THP TAlMltfFT MINICTPI? I^arceiB Four Acts. Ten males, nine IOC t^AOUlCI niniDlCK females. Costumes, modem society: scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. DANDY DICK ^**"<'® *^ Three Acts. Seven males, four temaiea. Costumes, modem j sceneryv two interiors. Playe two hours and a hall THE fiAY LORD ADEX ^^^'^•^y ^ ^^^ Acts, rour males ten A1U( I4 V *^ females. Costumes, modern ; sceuery, twc interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. BIS BODSE IN ORDER comedy m Four Acts. Nine males, fonT MUh/ uvvw&( U.LJ vM\Mfm^MM f^jj^i^^^ Costumes, modern ; scenery^ three interiors. Plays a full evening. TDP HARRY HARSF Comedy tn Three Acts. Ten males, five AlUf UVI9I9I uvnk?l4 females. Costumes, modern; scenery easy. Plays two hours and a half. inic Drama in Five Acts. Seven males, seven females. Costumes, moderm ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. I ADY RAENTIlhTIf ^^^^ ^ Four Acts. Eight males, seven fe- i^AVl UvviM IUI4 jj^igg^ Costumes, modern ; scenery, four in- teriors, not easy. Plays a full evening. I FTTY l^*"ft'sia in Four Acts and an Epilogue. Ten males, five fe- **^ * males. Costumes, modem ; ecenery comphcated. Plays a full evening. Sent prepaid on receipt of price by Salter ^. TBafier & Company No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts Mr. Kelley from Kalamazoo A Farce in Three Acts MACPHERSON JANNEY Notice to Professionals This play is published for the free use of amateur players and or- ganizations only. Professional actors or companies producing it in any form or under any title, without the permission of the author, who may be addressed in care of the publishers, will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. BOSTON WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 1912 Mr. Kelley from Kalamazoo CHARACTERS Clarence Prentice, more or less a gentlema?i of leisure. Henry Tetlow, his uncle, a?t impressario. Rufe King, his brother-in-law. The Rev. Ernest Frey, rector of St. Benedict's, Heathfield Parish. Ted Strong, late of the St. Louis ''Nationals.'' Ignatz Demarest Rogers, a syncopated genius. Barton, butler at the Te flows'. Jim, a policeman. Madelaine Sanderson, 7V//(72i;'j- ward. Mary King, his niece. Leslie Hill, late of the *'Folies Bergeres.** Students of Raeton College. Scene. — Tetlow's home, Raeton. Time. — The opening night of college. Copyright, I9I2,-eyS. M. Janney, Jr. Free for amateur performance. Professional stage-right reserved ©CLD 28977 0* Mn Kelley from Kalamazoo ACT I SCENE. — Parlor in Henry Tetlow's house. A large ^ hand- somely furnished room, fireplace R. c, doorway enter iiig from hall back r., entraiices at fro7it R., back l., a?id front L. ; French window back l. ; large sofa in front of fireplace, table front L., with drop light ; upright piano back c, " Victrola'* r., in front of fireplace ; back r. desk with telephone, and hat-rack ; L. c. large red screen, tea table and chairs, and hanging mirror. (As the curtain rises, the stage is in darkness, except for a faint glow from the fireplace, and an intermittent red glare visible through the French window, ivhich stands open. Sounds sy?nbolic of the higher education are heard without ; the f?iurmur of majiy voices, near and distant, muffled cheers conflicting with one another, snatches of time-honored softgs chorused by hoarse masculifie voices, the whole more or less in discord. The rattle of a drum is heard dying in the distance, and the glare of colored lights grows dimmer gradually. A few seconds after the curtain rises the telephone bell rings, and persists until Barton enters front l.) Bar. (crossing r. quickly, bumping into table). Ho, dem hit! No lights! (Takes down receiver.) 'Ello ! — Yes, — yes, sir, — hit's Barton, sir. — No, sir, 'e's not at 'ome. — No, sir; not for the past week, sir. — Hall right, sir. — No message? — Very good, sir. — Four six three Main. — Good hevening, sir. (Puts down receiver, crosses L. to window and closes it.) My word ! Wot a confusion ! One can 'ardly 'ear one's self speak ! (Looks out of window.) Hit's well the master's not at 'ome, — hit upsets 'im near as much as a telegram ! {Pauses ; gasps.) Ho, my word ! That telegram ! (Bustles forward and turns up light, hunts through his pockets, finally pro- 3 4 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO ducing a yellow envelope.') Ho, dear me ! And hit's been 'ere since yesterday ! And Mr. King, 'e being so particular, too. Oh ! good 'eavens ! ( The door opetis ; Bar. convulsively grabs at the light and turns it out ; Rufe King ejiters back L.) King. Hello, what's wrong with the lights ? I thought' See here, who's that there? Oh, Barton? Well, why the deuce don't you turn up the lights? Bar. (Jur fling on light). Yes, sir; Hi Hit was hout of order, sir, and Hi was only hexperimenting a bit, sir. King. Oh, I see. Well, you'd better let me do all the experimenting in that line; a hundred and ten volts would finish you pretty quick. Any mail? Bar. No, sir. King. Strange; I haven't heard at all from Uncle Hen! ( The tioise outside is increasing every moment, seeming to have the house as its goal. King crosses back l.) Good thing he isn't here for these goings on. By Jove, but they're whooping it up ! Barton, where's Mrs. King? Bar. Hin the library. Hi think, sir. King. Thanks. {Crosses r.) Oh, I suppose Mrs. King told you to hold dinner until half- past eight? Good! I hardly think Mr. Tetlow would come without letting us know, but we will wait till the eight-fifteen is in. Bar. Very well, sir. {Exit King, r.) Ho, my ! Wot a relief I And now to hexplain that telegram ! Lord ! Hi'll 'ave to arsk the missis wot to do ! {He crosses L.) My, wot a racket ! [Exit, l. {The noise outside has increased until it has centered directly in front of the house ; at that moment it appears to swerve off, and move on and away. The French win- dow softly opens, and Clarence Prentice crawls in on his hands and knees. He wears a long overcoat, and a derby pulled over his ears ; as he stands erect a shower of leaves falls from his clothes. He glances cautiously about, then turns and looks for a moment out of the win- dow, finally shaking his fist vindictively at the street without.) Pren. Howl 1 Howl I You young barbarians 1 you feeble- minded, overgrown children ! Perdition take you and all your MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 5 ancestors and your blessed Alma Mater ! (^He pauses y and pulls his hat off ; a shower of leaves falls out.^ The idiots ! \He comes forward^ taking off his coat, and shaking leaves all over the room.') By all the saints, the next time you catch me burrowing in a pile of leaves like a blamed squirrel 1 {He throivs coat on a chair, and leans agaifist the table, drawing a lofig breath.) Whew ! But they nearly had me I Another minute, and Ugh ! {He shudders, then walks around the room.) Well, here I am at last; but hanged if I don't think it's out of the frying-pan into the fire ! If only the old gent's away, or I can get hold of Rufe first ; but Oh, the devil ; here comes some one ! Back to the nest ! {He turns out the light, grabs coat, and starts for the win- dow. King enters r.) King. Lights out again ! Barton, you old rascal, what the -! Pren. Rufe ! {He springs to the table and flashes on the light.) King. Well, of all things ! You old son of a gun ! {They clasp hands, and begin to pump stretiuously.) Pren. Say, but this is luck ! Quick, Rufe ; where's the old gent? King. Gone. — No, not dead ; out of town. Been gone a week. Pren. Oh, wonderful ! King. But he may show up any minute. He's a trifle unreliable. Pren. Oh, damn ! But I've got my hooks on you first, so it's all right. King. Explain. Pren. Oh, that's so, you're not wise to the situation ; well, sit down. {He sits on table; K.mG leans against fireplace.) You see, I'm in a mess, as usual. King. As usual ! What is it this time? Have you turned botanist ? Pren. Botanist, you imbecile? King. Because if you haven't, please don't mess up the house again with any more autumn scenery. Pren. Huh ! I see. Oh, don't worry; that's only a little 6 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO impromptu stage setting. Rufe, I've just escaped from the clutclies of the worst gang of ruffians that ever ! (ZT/i- righteous anger surges up again, ajid he shakes his fist viciously at the windozuJ) King {roaring with laughter'). So ! The giddy sophs have been entertaining you ? And since when have they taken to disturbing perfectly law-abiding citizens ? I thought they confined their attentions to the verdant freshmen. Pren. Ugh ! They came near entertaining me, all right ! But the whole trouble is, they've got a perfect right to, I sup- pose, according to their feeble-minded and misguided notions. You see, — well, maybe you'll think I'm crazy, but I'm one of those verdant freshmen myself ! King {thunderstruck). You! You! Why ! {He sinks on the sofa, overcome with howls of laughter.) Pren. All right, laugh, you old jackass ; bray your voice out ! But I don't see what's funny in a fellow's going to college ! King {recovering an instant). But you / and at your age in life ! — Oh, Lord ! {Succumbs.) Pren. Oh, the devil take my age, and you, too ! Will you listen till I get through ? Do you suppose I wanted to go to any fool college, and get mixed up in early morning chapel and so on ? It was a case of that, or a horrible alternative, or being disinherited by my fool of an uncle. I mean my other fool of an uncle. King. Oh-ho ! So that's it, hey ? Uncle Billiam has vetoed the role of the young squire of the manor ? And what was the horrible alternative ? Pren. A consular berth, secured through one of his blessed political friends. A job upholding the glory and honor of my native land at three thousand per in — Russia ! King. Russia? But where's the kick come in? Three thousand a year. Why, man, why the deuce didn't you grab the chance? Pren. {gravely). My son ! If you will consult a good atlas, a good big one, you will find that the town of Volodga is in the latitude of sixty-two north. And though an arctic ex- istence may suit some people, — well, I'd rather buck the higher education. MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 7 King. Um — I see. Well, I'm inclined to think that the governinent is to be congratulated on losing your services, if you're so thin-skinned that you can't stand a little hazing. Pren. Hazing ? Oh, the dickens with hazing ! Wait till you hear how I've messed things. You see, since I had to do the college stunt, I thought I'd please Uncle Hen all I could, so I chose to come here. Well, he was tickled ; and of course loaded me up with a lot of letters of introduction and such truck. Moreover, he wanted me to pledge myself to Zeta Epsilon ; so like a fool I did, and he wrote all the members that I was coming. And then Oh, Lord !— then I did put my foot in it ! {He ju7nps up, and walks excitedly about the room,) King. Well, let's have it. I suppose you signed up with another frat. Pren. Yes ! Of course ! Exactly ! Oh, what an ass I am 1 Only, I didn't sign anything; but I gave my word of honor that I'd go Alpha Psi. Did you ever hear anything to equal it ? And then, when I got out of the train, and saw the yelling crowds and the torches, suddenly I remembered my uncle and his letters and my sacred obligations to the Zeta Epsilons. After that, there was a lot of shooting stars and buzzing noises, and in the excitement I got loose and found my way to the bottom of the debris in your front yard. Oh, Lord ! And the brutes got my suit-case, so they know who I am ! King. But for heaven's sake, man, you can't be bound to any one but the Zeta Epsilons ! You pledged yourself to them, so any subsequent promise is therefore null and void ! Pren. Oh, shut up, you and your law terms ! You don't know anything about it, because, you see, — well Oh, confound it, I cati't break my promise to go Alpha Psi ! You see {He pauses in confusion.') King. Oh, yes ; I see ! I might have known it all along. Why didn't you tell me in the beginning ? If there's a girl in the case Pren. Yes, there is a girl in the case, and she's the best, and Oh, laugh, you grinning hyena; I don't care ! I don't care ! And if you think that I'm going to break my promise to her for you or any other blame fool, you're mighty mistaken ! 8 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO {In his excitement he shakes his fist violently in King's face.) King. Oh, cool off, Pren ! I don't want you to break any promises. Only you ought not to let your love affairs get you into trouble. It isn't worth while. You know you'll get over it in a week or two. Pren. No, I won't, either ! Why, hang it, man, I've al- ready asked her to marry me ! King. What ? Ho, ho, ho ! {Ife goes into a fit of laugh- ter.) And did she accept? Pren. No, worse luck ! King. Good enough ! Pren. But she said that if I'd go Alpha Psi she'd consider the matter. See ? Now how the deuce can you blame me for forgetting about my old fool of an uncle and his fool plans ? King. Whew! Well, it's certainly all very harrowing; you've made a pretty sufficient mess of the business. And now what are you going to do ? I suppose the first thing is to lay low until the initiation is over. That means you can't show yourself for twelve hours more ; then no one can claim you till next term. But where do you propose to stay ? Pren. Why, here, you old cuckoo ! King. Not a chance ! Do you know that if you're seen within these doors, the butler has orders to eject you, by force if necessary? And that I'm seriously compromising myself by holding friendly confab with you ? Pren. Lord ! I certainly do seem blessed with the most insane and unreasonable set of uncles that ever lived ! Well, I suppose it is largely my fault. But the deuce ! I tfiusi stay here ! Come on, Rufe, be a sport, and help me. You say the old gent's away, and probably won't show up ; nobody else knows me, except Mary, of course ; and you can tell the blood- thirsty butler that I'm a friend from Kalamazoo selling gas ranges. I swear I'll lie low, and beat it the minute my time's up. King. Well, I guess it's pretty safe. But if Uncle Hen should turn up ! All right ; you wait here a minute. (He goes to the door back l., and calls.) Mary! Oh, Mary ! Mary King {from without y up- stairs). Yes, dear; what is it? King. Come down here and entertain my company for a moment. MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 9 Mary. Very well ; but who is it ? King. Never mind ; come down and find out. {Turns to Pren.) You good-for-nothing blockhead ! You've worried your poor sister nearly to death with your family rows ! But she'll be mighty glad to see you, just the same. Now I'll just drop down and casually inform Barton that my friend, Mr. Kelley, is visiting me. And don't you forget to talk with a brogue ! (Jle goes out front l. ; Pren. picks up hat aud coat and hangs them up on hat-rack as Mary enters back l.) Mary. Oh, good-evening, Mr. Why,— Clarence ! {She rushes across stage into his arms.) Pren. Hello, old girl ! My, but I'm glad to see you ! Mary. You perfect darling ! What on earth are you doing here ? And how long are you going to stay ? {They coDie forward and sit on the sofa.) Pren. Well, you know pretty well how long I'd remain on the premises if my dear Uncle Hennery were here. So my stay in this house is limited, but I'm going to be in Raeton all winter. Mary. Glorious ! And you never told me a word about it ! Oh, Clarence, if you could only live with us ! Why did you let Uncle Hen get so angry with you ? If you'd only just given in to his wishes a little ! Pren. What ! Marry a girl I'd never seen, just to please him ? Why ! Mary. But you could have met her first, before you prom- ised anything ; and she's a perfect dear, — I know you'd Pren. No, Mary, there's no use going over all that again ; and not now especially. My dearest sister, I'm in love with the most wonderful girl that ever lived ! Mary. What; again? Pren. No ; at last ! I've only known her for two days, but I'm going to marry her ! Mary. You silly boy ! Who is she, and where did you meet her? Pren. I met her on the train, in the observation car; and do you know, I don't even know her name yet ! Mary. Clarence ! I'm shocked ! 10 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Pren. Oh, no, you're not ! And just wait till you meet her ! You sec, she lives here somewhere in Raeton, and she's promised to let me know her address right away. {Pauses.) Only, confound it all, she doesn't know 7ny name or address either ! — Oh, well, I'll run across her somewhere ! Mary. Of all scatterbrains 1 And you actually imagine that you're going to marry this horrible creature ? Pren. I certainly do ! Mary. And I suppose she is equally certain. Pren. That's just the trouble. She refused me ! Mary. Well, I should hope so ! The very idea ! Now, listen, Clarence; Uncle Hen's ward, Madelaine Sander- son Pren. The girl Fm supposed to marry? Mary. Exactly. Pren. Good-night ! Mary. That's all very well ; only don't say anything you'll ever regret. As I started to say, she's coming on from Boston in another week to spend the winter here, as she did last year ; and you will have a chance to meet her, and then perhaps you won't oppose your uncle so stubbornly. Oh, Clarence, do try to like her ! Won't you promise to be a good boy, and do as I ask ? Pren. {taking her hatid and patti fig it affectionately). Yes, of course, of course ; but don't expect anything. I'm in dead earnest about this other affair. In the meantime I'm in the deuce of a scrape. Mary, I've {The door-bell rings.) Lord ; suppose that's Uncle Hen ! Mary. It can't be ! He wouldn't ring ! Pren. That's all right; I'm not taking any chances. Quick ; which way is Rufe's room ? Mary. Right at the top of the landing ; the first room. Hurry, I hear Barton coming ! Goodness, I forgot he mustn't see you ! (Pren. goes out quickly back l. ; as he disappears. Bar. efiters front l., and sees him go.) Oh, dear ! What shall I tell him ? Bar. {pausing a moment and eyeing the door). Beg par- don, but Mary {breathlessly). Oh, Barton, I meant to tell you that a gentleman would be here to-night, Mr. Sumner, a singer who has come to see Mr. Tetlow on business ! Bar. Yes, ma'am. {Aside.) Hanother one ! [Exit, back p. MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO II Mary (joing to table and arranging it nervously^. I won- der who it is ; it can't be Uncle Hen ! He'd surely have tele- graphed ! {A pause.) Madelaine Sanderson (offstage). Here are the checks. Would you please, Barton? You're a dear ! Mary. Madelaine ! Why I (Mad. enters back r., throivs down wraps y and comes for- wardy arms outstretched.) Mad. Hello, dearest ! Mary. Madelaine! (They embrace.) For gracious' sake ! Mad. Aren't you surprised ? Mary. Surprised ? I should say so ! Where on earth did you drop from ? Mad. My dear, I've dropped a// the way from St. Louis, right on top of you, without a word of warning ! Now, aren't you overjoyed ? Mary, Overjoyed ! But, goodness, why St. Louis ? I thought you were in Boston ! Mad. I know. Dearest, positively, I've been around the world in the last week ! I'll tell you all about it later. Just now, I'm simply dying to renovate myself. Isn't traveling perfecdy terrible ? Do tell me what room I'm to have ! Wait ! (She goes quickly out into the hall, a?td returns with her suit- case. Outside a snatch of song is heard in the distance.) Listen ! Hear them singing ! My, but it sounds good ! Oh, my dear ! Let me tell you ! I've pledged the most splendid fellow to Alphi Psi; he's perfectly wonderful, and I'm quite King (off stage). Mary, where's Barton? (He enters front h.'y sees Mad., and stops dead.) Why ! On my word ! (He advances, afid they shake hands.) Mad. Aren't you glad to see me? King. Glad ! Well, I should say so ! But (He looks inquiringly at his wife.) Mary. Don't look to me for an explanation ; I'm as much in the dark as you are. Isn't it fine, though? (To Mad.) Dearie, just a moment and you can come. (She takes stiit-case, and goes out back l.) King. Well, how goes the world ? You're looking fine. 12 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Mad. I'm feeling fine, too. Oh, Rufe, I've had the most wonderful trip, and more experiences ! Just think, Rufe ; at last I've met my true affinity; the most splendid fellow ! He came all the way from St. Louis with me ; you know, we met on the train, and it was awfully romantic ! Imagine ; we don't even know each other's names yet ! We agreed to keep them secret for the fun of it. And I've asked him to come and see me here; you won't mind, will you, Rufe? King. Of course not, if, — well, you're sure he's the right sort of fellow ? Mad. Why, of course he is ; he's a perfect dear ! And he asked me to marry him the very first day ! King. Oh, good Lord ! And did you say yes? Mad. No-o; but I told him that I'd think it ovtx very seriously. It was simply a case of love at first sight ! Oh, 1 can hardly wait till I see him again ! Rufe, do you think Mary (offstage). Oh, Madelaine ! Mad. Yes, dear; I'm coming! (She crosses back R., gathers tip coat and wraps, and crosses L., talking as she goes.) Goodness ! I hope I haven't delayed dinner any ! And Rufe, if a gentleman should by any chance call this evening, won't you please tell Barton Mary {off stage). Madelaine? Mad. Coming, dear ! {Exit, back l. King stands a moment looking after her, then comes forward and leans against the table, drawing a long breath.) King. Whew ! Well {He pauses, reflectively.) This certainly seems marked out for a particularly hectic evening ! Here's my precious brother-in-law, caught between two fires, and hiding at this house, of all places, where, if his dear uncle catches him, he'll be everlastingly slain, and I'll be turned out for harboring him ! And on top of that, in drops the irrepres- sible Madelaine, with a wild tale of a Pullman romance, evi- dently having forgotten that she has promised to marry the man of her guardian's choice, who, in turn, is the fugitive beneath our very roof! Oh, ye Gods ! And I'm confoundedly certain that now it's started to rain, it's going to pour before it gets through I {The door-bell rings.) There! I knew it! I wonder what's coming next ? If this Lothario of Madelaine's turns out to be impossible, as he very likely will, and if he MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 13 should turn up before Uncle Hen gets back, well {The bell rings agaifi.) I wonder why Barton doesn't come ! Oh, the deuce! He's gone for Madelaine's trunks ! I'll have to welcome the next event on the program myself. (He goes out back R. ; in a itiomenl he reenters, followed by Ted Strong, who wears a long, talkative overcoat, a?id a sfuall derby on the back of his head. The derby has a dent in one side ; Ted's tie and collar are badly disarranged.') Right in here, if you please. Won't you take off your overcoat ? Ted. Tanks ! Wot's left of it ! (He removes coat, which King takes. He is evidently a bit ruffled in temper as well as apparel.) Say ! Do youse hand out d' election night stuff t' every guy wot strikes dis burg ? King. Why, no; this only happens to be the opening night of college, and Ted. Oh, dat's it, huh ? Well, I'm glad youse put me wise, cuz next time I'd ha' swung on some o' those guys, see? {He viciously puftches his hat into shape, then crosses front L., and arranges tie in front of mirror.) King (aside). Particularly hectic ! (Aloud, cautiously.) I er, — suppose you've come to see Mr. Tetlow on business? Ted. Naw ! Do I look like a Tetrazini out of a job? Naw ! I got a date here wit a skoit, see ? King. What ? — 1 beg your pardon ? Ted. a lady, see ? A fren' o' mine wot told me t* meet her here. King (aside). Good Lord ! It can't be ! (Aloud.) Oh, I understand ! Well, er, — pardon the question, but on whose authority did you choose this house as a meeting place? Ted. D' lady's, see? King. Oh, er, — yes, yes ! — Heavens above ! Madelaine must be insane! (To Ted.) Well, I suppose then that you are in some way related to, — er, — that is, have some connection with, and that you have some good reason for Ted {advancing threateningly). See here, cul, youse say wot youse mean, and say it quick, see? King (bristling). You bet I will ! You're intruding in this house where you've no business to be, and you're going to clear out pretty quick ; understand ? Ted. Huh? I am, am I? Well, youse understand this pretty quick, young feller, dat I'm goin* t' stay right here till 14 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO d* lady I came t' see tells me t' go, or till I'm put out, see? An' if dere's a man here wot can put me out, which'll be goin' some, I'll stay in front of dis house till I see d' lady I came t' see; see? King. Very well ; I'll call her, and take my word, she'll send you off in a hurry ! You can wait in the library ! (He turns to go; aside.') Heavens! Madelaine wz/j-/ get rid of this beast ! \Exity back L. Ted. She will, hey? Well, if she does, my dope's no good ! Catch dat little queen ditchin' a guy ! Not on yer life ! Not little Leslie ! {He looks around.) So I'm t' wait in d' library, hey ? Dis joint, I suppose ? {He crosses R., looks off stage y then strolls out front R. / as he goeSf Bar.'s voice is heard off stage back r.) Bar. Hon the second floor ; the missis'll show you. And mind; don't scratch the paint! {A door slams and Bar. enters back R. He is somewhat rumpled.) Ho, my eye ! Wot a night ! They do seem to be going hon wus than usual ! {He straightens his clothes.) And ho my ! 'Ere's more trouble ! Honly think. Miss Case, next door, says as 'ow she saw through the kitchen window some one crawling hinto this very room, an' as 'ow she's certain hit was young Mr. Prentice ! And the marster's orders as 'ow I'm to throw 'im right hout of the house ! And 'ere 'e is hat large ! 'Eavens ! I'll 'ave to arsk the missis wot to do ! {He goes out front L., shaking his head. For a moment the stage is vacant ; the sound of fraternal festivities is still heard faintly in the distance. Pren. cautiously sticks his head out of the door back L., and peeps about.) Pren. Good ! I've eluded Mister Barton and his ejective proclivities so far. I'm not exactly dying to impersonate Mr. Kelley, of Kalamazoo. I wonder if I'll have to do the brogue at dinner? {He goes to 7vindow and looks out.) Still at it ! I wish them joy ! Nevertheless, I don't like my suit-case being in their hands; some one might know that the old gent's my uncle, and they might come here and investigate. It makes me rather nervous. In fact, everything makes me nervous to- night ! Enter Ted, front r., and eyes him a moment. MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO IC Ted {aside). Huh ! I suppose dis is d' guy wot's been sent t' bounce me out 'n here ! (^Aloud.) Hey, youse ! (PREN.ju7/ips back in terror, knocks over a chair, and takes refuge behind the table.) Pren. (aside). Lord! That butler at last! (Aloud.) Er,— well ? Ted (grinning). Say, wot are youse scared of, huh? Pren. (in rich brogue). Sure, an' nothing at all, your honor ! Ted. Becuz unless youse is not who I think youse is, youse 'd better be, see? I thought maybe youse was a guy wot I was looking for ; youse get me ? Pren. Sure, faith an' I do I Ted. Youse 'd better had, ye pea green Oirisher ! ( Turns suddenly.) Say, do youse belong in this joint ? Pren. Begorrah, an' I do not; but, sure, an' I'm a friend of Mr. King's, an' Kelley's me name, Kalamazoo being me home. Faith, me lad, an' perhaps I could sell ye a stove ? Ted. Naw, youse can't! And don't "me lad" me, d'y see? Or I'll paste youse so hard in th' slats it'll make y'r hair fall out ; youse get me ? Pren. (with an attempt at jovial good nature). Come, now, an' 'twas nothing I meant ! Sure, faith an' you're such a broth of a boy (Ted turns fiercely, and comes forward in a dangerously professio?ial attitude ; Pren. retreats till he falls back- ward on sofa; Ted stands over him.) Ted. See here, youse mut-faced gazebo ! Don't youse try_ t' spring not'in' on me, see? It won't woik ! Dat brogue o* yours sounds pretty fishy, and if youse is a bum ten-twent-thirt moving picter show actor rehoising a new act, and thinkin' y're going t' try it on th' dog, and try it on me, youse is going t' get hoit, see ? And hoit bad, see ? If youse thinks youse is going t' get funny wit' a big league ball player wot's been put out'n th' league f'r scrapping, y're mistaken, see? And till I hooks a new job I'm a bad man t' get funny wit' 1 Pren. But — but Then you're not Barton ? Ted {turning away). Barton ? Barton who ? Pren. (rising). You're not Mr. Tetlow's butler? Te\) (turning suddenly). Hey! Butler? l6 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Pren. {dodging behind the so/a). Wait a minute ! Don't shoot! It's all a mistake. I thought you were one of the family, and I apologize. Now, if you'll only tell me who you really are Ted. Why, sure, cul, if y're not trying t' trow me out ; I'm Ted Strong, a week ago outfielder on th' St. Louis Nationals; but dat guy Breshnahan got too fly one day, and I pasted him one, see? So now I'm looking f'r a new job at th' college here. And a skoit wot I met on th' train was t' meet me here, but some guy got fresh, and said he'd have me trun out, and I thought youse was d' guy he sent t' do it, see ? Pren. 1 understand, perfectly. And, by Jove, / thought you were the butler, who has orders to throw me out ! Ted. He has, huh ? Well, say, cul ; suppose youse and me go pals, and if Mister Fresh Guy 'r Mister Butler gets flip around here, we'll hand 'em a jolt in th' kisser, hey? Pren. Good enough ! We'll show them ! {They shake hands.) I wish you had been with me when I met the gang outside ! Ted. Was youse mixed up wit' dem, too ? Pren. Mixed up ? I should say so ! Why, man, I'm who they're after ! You see, I've promised to join two difl'erent societies, so now I can't join either; and if a freshman refuses to join some fraternity, they all get together and kill him. Oh, I'd have a lovely time if they got hold of me ! Ted. Well, they ain't going t' get youse wit' me here; they, nor nobody else. Just let 'em come; we'll keep 'em busy ! ( The door -be II rings.) Wot's dat ? Pren. Thunder, the door-bell ! And Barton will have to pass through here to answer it ! Quick ! I'm supposed to be Mr. Kelley, of Kalamazoo, and if he Ted, And if he asks me who I am, I'll tell him, see? E?iter Bar. back l. Pren. and Ted assume defensive posi- tions. Bar. (^ pans i fig, and looking over their heads). Beg par- don; Mr. Sumner, your room his ready, sir; hit's the one next to Mr. Kelley's, sir. {He bows, and goes out back R.) Ted. Mister Sumner, hey? Woops, m' dear, dat's a good one ! And Mister Kelley ! Say, I thought he wasn't wise t* youse ? Pren. There's something queer on ; you notice he didn't look at either of us. He's got the names, but doesn't know MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 17 which is which. And now I wonder who this will be. Sup- pose it's my uncle ! Enter Bar., back r. Bar. This way, sir. Efiter Rev. Ernest Frey, with long overcoat^ big traveling bag, and umbrella. Frey. Oh, thank you ! Bar. Hi'll call Mr. King, sir; Mr. Tetlow is hout of town at present, sir, but Frey. Only fancy ! He said he would be here to-night ! (Pren. jtwips.) And it is so expressly urgent that I Oh, dear me, I forgot; my card ! Oh, oh, oh ! {lie fumbles in his pocket.) Ah, here it is! (Bar. goes out back l.) How thoughtless of me ! (Frey deposits his belongings, and comes forivard to the table ; he sits down, and takes out a note-book, in which he starts to write. The others watch him^ and speak in low tones.) Ted. Oh, Lizzie ! D'y pipe th' goloshes ! Pren. a minister to see my uncle ! I wonder what he wants ? Maybe the old gent's getting religion ! Ted. Say, d'y think he'll speak to us? And if he does, wot am I, a Swede or a Dago ? Pren. Oh, the deuce; I don't know ! Hold on; we'll say you're French, and don't know any English. If he tries to talk to you, just answer *' Oui, oui." Ted. Wee, wee, huh ? Say, is dat d' whole langwige ? Pren. No, but you'll find it answers all your purposes. — See, he's stopped writing ! (Frey puts away his note-book, and rises. As he turfis toward the others, they look away ; he starts slightly.') Frey {aside). Ah ! Two gentlemen ! I had not pre- viously observed them ! I wonder {He pauses ; aloud.) Oh, I beg your pardon, but perhaps one of you gentlemen could inform me concerning Mr. Tetlow's absence ? Pren. Sure, an' it's not myself that could be informing ye, begging your Worship's pardon ! Frey {aside). Only fancy ! A son of Erin ! How de- l8 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO lightful ! {Aloud.') Oh, dear me, how very unfortunate 1 Perhaps the other gentleman Pken. Sure, an' it's not him that'll be telling ye, he being a Frenchman, that can't speak the tongue. {To Ted.) Can ye, me lad ? Ted. Wee, wee ! Frey. Oh, dear me, how unfortunate ! You see, I am only in town for a few hours, and it is extremely urgent that I see the gentleman who resides here. Only fancy, too; he wrote me that he would surely be here to-night ! (Pren. starts nervously.) Well, I suppose there is no use crying over spilt milk. You gentlemen are visiting here, I presume ? Pren. Faith, an' your Honor presumes rightly ! Frey. Ah, yes ! {Pauses ; eyes 'Yy.t> covertly.) And — er — you are here together, I presume ? Pren. Faith, an' we're here together; but it's only this night we've met ! Frey. Ah, so I fancied! {Pauses; lowers his voice.) And the — er — gentleman with you is a friend of Mr. Tetlow's, visiting him, I presume ? Pren. Faith, no, an' it was myself that got the idea that he was only waiting here to meet an acquaintance ! Frey. Oh, dear me ! I am most expressly relieved ! I sincerely trust that my esteemed friend Mr. Tetlow does not lower himself by associating intimately with such a fellow ! Ted {aside). Huh ! Pren. {apprehensively). Oh, sure, now, your Worship, an' you're not after maning that ? Frey. Ah, yes; 1 feel that I must take exception in a marked degree to this type of person. Really, you know, his dress ! Quite impossible ! Only fancy ! Red socks and a green cravat ! Quite out of place in a gentleman's drawing- room ! It stamps him, don't you know, as being of the rough and undesirable element which is unfortunately so conspicuous in our (Ted has risen and stood, with his hands on his hips, and jaw outstretched, liste?iing ; at this poijit in the o therms r amblings he steps in front of Pren., who tries to restraint him, and digs Frey in the ribs in order to attract his attention.) Ted. Hey, youse 1 Wee, wee ! Understand ? Wee, wee i D'y get me, kid ? MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO I9 Frey [springing back). Oh, oh, oh ! Merciful powers ! Why! The creature speaks English ! (7"^ Pren.) Sir, you have most unkindly deceived me ! Ted. Yep ; dat's it ! And now wot has youse t' say about it? Frey, Oh, oh, oh ! This is indeed quite too awful ! Words utterly fail me ! Ted. Well, it's a good ting, youse spindle-legged, fresh- water oyster ! And say 1 Next time youse has any suggestions t' make concoining me rags, youse hand in all complaints t' th' box-office, see ? Y' get me ? Frey. Oh, oh ! Really, my dear sir, if I had known Oh, 1 am so perturbed! {To Pren.) Oh, sir, perhaps you have some influence over this gentleman, — if you could only explain and assure him that I meant absolutely no harm, — that my intentions Pren. Oh, I'm sure I can fix it up all right ! Now, my dear old fellow (^He pulls Ted aside^ and speaks in a quick whisper.) Cut it out; don't waste your temper on this feeble-minded old fossil ! I'll tell him what's up, and ask him to help us ; you've got him so scared that he won't dare refuse ! {Aloud.') And now I'm sure that you two gentlemen will find it expedient to drop the matter, and clasp each other's hands in firm friendship. Mr. — er Frey (^delighted). Oh, dear me; I forgot ! I am the Rev. Ernest Frey, rector of St. Benedict's, Heathfield Parish. Pren. Well, Mr. Frey, let me present Mr. Strong, late of St. Louis. Frey. Ah, really ! I am charmed ! And er, — after all, you are one of us Americans ? Ted. Naw ! I ain't no American ! I was in d' Nationals till I got canned, but I ain't in no league now. Y' see, datguy Breshnahan Pren. Yes, yes ; we understand ; but let me explain things to Mr. Frey. (/« a confidefitial and deprecatory manner.) You see, my friend and I are in a rather peculiar situation ; for er, — one reason or another, we are both under the absolute necessity of remaining for the present in this house, but most unfortunately certain of the inmates are attempting to forcibly get rid of us. Now, in order to conceal our identity from any one who might let be known our whereabouts, we are trying to remain incognito. Understand ? And so though you have, — very cleverly, I must confess, — discovered that we are not who 20 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO we represent ourselves to be, still if we can rely on you to con- ceal this fact, it would greatly aid us, and (^His wind gives out, and he draws a long breath ; before he can conti7iue, he is interrupted.^ Frey (^horrified). Oh, but my most dear sir ! Really, you know ! I — I could not think of it ! Why, that would be wilful deception ! Only fancy ! A minister of the gospel aid- ing in an attempt to deceive the people in the house of one of his trusted friends, in behalf of two self-confessed intruders ! It would be most unpardonable ; really, I almost feel it my duty to at once inform some one of Ted (once more diggitig him in the ribs). Say ! Areyouse going t' do wot we'se told youse t' do, or are youse not ? Frey (7vith dignity). Oh, oh ! My dear sir, I would wish you to remember that you are addressing the rector of St. Benedict's, Heathfield Parish, and that to one in my posi- tion Ted. Aw, cut it ! I don't care if youse is th* whole National Commission ; see? Youse is going t' do wot we says, or youse gets poked in th' mug, d'y get me? Like dat; see? (He draws back his arm, and brings it forward as though for a swishifig upper cut. Yrky Jumps away, trembling.) Frey. Oh, oh, oh ! This is coercion ! I shall certainly appeal to the police authorities for assistance ; really Pren. {kicking Ted oji the shin and ?notio7iing him away). Oh, no ; you must help us ! Why, you'll be doing the right thing in helping us, because, don't you see, we're the ones that are in the right, and the others are wrongfully trying to throw us out into the street ! Your duty as a good citizen and a min- ister lies in protecting two innocent men from the unjust perse- cutions of their enemies ! There ! You see you are under the moral obligation to help us ! Frey. Oli, my ! I am so greatly perturbed, really I can- not be quite certain of my proper course of action ! However (glaficing nervously at Ted), if you say that you are being op- pressed without cause, I suppose that in my position as a shep- herd among my fellow men, it is my duty to take you under my protecting wing. Ted. Dat's right, cul ; be a sport ! ( Whacks Frey on the back.) We'll stick around under y'r flapper just as long as MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 21 youse want. Say, but we'll own th' whole house before we gets tru, hey, Bo? (^Whacks Pren. o?i the back.) Pren. Good enough; but don't you think that we'd better go somewhere else ? The butler has to go through here to an- swer the door-bell, and it might become awkward if he should run across us too often. Frey. Oh, but you know he has taken my card up, and really, I must await some response from the present master of the house ! Pren. Oh, come along ; that's not necessary ! You say that your business is with Mr. Tetlow ; and since he is not here, it's no use seeing any one else. Suppose you tell us what your business is, and perhaps we could help you out. Ted. Dat's wot; youse put us wise, and we'll help youse deliver th' goods, see ? Come, gents ; th' court will now adjoin t' th' library ! (^ITe links arms with the other two, and they go out front r. As they disappear, Mad. enters back h., followed by Bar. She sees thetn go. She is in evening dress j a?id appears radiant and greatly excited.') Mad. Oh, there they are ! Barton, you may go down- stairs. Bar. Beg pardon, miss, but Hi was to tell the Rev. Mr. Frey that Mad. {impatiently). Yes, yes ! I know; but you need not bother. I'll tell him myself! (Qkk. hesitates, then goes out front h. J shaking his head.) And now! Oh, dear; what shall I say to him first ? Goodness, I'm so flustered ! Why did Rufe take such a violent dislike to him ? I'm sure they must have quarreled ! And I wonder how he found out where I lived? I'll bet that he followed me here ! The darling ! {She starts toward the door; pauses.') Goodness! That horrid minister is with him ! Oh, I do wish that he would {She looks out of the door front R.) Oh, he is, he is ! He's coming this way now ! Oh {She stops, looks around, then runs up stage, and stands by the windoiv. Pren. enters, and starts up stage, l.) Pren. I'd better nail those hats and coats, or {He sees Mad. \ pauses.) Oh, I {Recognizes her.) What ! You here ? 22 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO {He goes toward her ; they 7neet in the centre of the stage,') Mad. Yes; didn't you know ? Pren. The dickens, no ! Mad. {petulantly). Then why did you come? Pren. Why, er, — you see Oh, what difference does it make? I say, it's great, your being here! I thought I'd never see you again ; it's been ages since we parted ! Mad. It hasn't at all; it's been just an hour ! Pren. Oh, well, I mean it's seemed ages ! Hasn't it seemed so to you ? Mad. Well, — per-haps. — But can't we sit down? I've something very important to tell you ! Pren. Why, yes, let's {He remembers so?nething.') Oh, thunder ! I'm afraid I can't; I forgot that I've a couple of friends waiting for me in the next room, and I must go back. You see, I'm afraid to leave them alone together very long, for fear that they'd get into an argument. You understand, don't you ? Mad. Ye-es ; I suppose so. And tell the Rev. Mr. Frey, — he's one of them, isn't he? — that Mrs. King will be down in just a few minutes to welcome him. Pren. All right. Confound him, anyway ! But I'll see you again, won't I? You're not going right away? Mad. No, indeed ! Pren. Then good-bye. {He takes her hand in both of his. ) You know how I hate to run off this way. But you see it can't be helped. So good-bye till the next time ! {He drops her hand and goes out front R.) Mad. Well, — I think he might have kissed me ! But he's a perfect dear ! I don't see why Rufe took such a violent dis- like to him so quickly ! And the awful things he called him ! A "mucker"! Imagine! Oh, you wait, Mr. Rufus ! I'll get even with you I — And goodness ! I just know that Uncle Hen will simply hate him, on general principles, and make a horrible scene, and never give his consent ! Oh, I'm sure I'm going to have the most gorgeous kind of a romance ! — Heavens, here comes Rufe ! Now for a perfectly lovely row ! {She goes over and leans against the jnantelpiece, facing the stage expectantly. King enters back l., and comes over toward her.) MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 23 King. Well, I see you've gotten rid of him. I should hope so ! Whew ! A regular Bowery tough ! {Ster?ily.) Mad- elaine, I'm surprised at you ! And right here and now I want to warn you against your habit of making casual acquaintances ; it's got to stop, and next time I hear of you Mad. (^sweetly). Rufie, dear, don't you think you're be- ginning rather early to lecture me — the very first night I'm here ? And besides, you know, the gentleman on whom you are conferring such lovely titles hasn't left at all ! King. What ! Mad. What what? King. What wh ! Oh, the devil ! You don't mean that you didn't send the fellow away ? Mad. Most certainly not ! I don't treat my friends that way ! King (seething). Madelaine, do you mean what you say ? Mad. What thing that I say ? King. Oh ! Is that fellow still here in this house ? Mad. Why ! Of course he is ! King. Then I command you to send him about his busi- ness this instant ! Mad. How perfectly delicious ! You command me to King. Yes, I do ! And if you don't obey me, do you know what I'll do ? Mad. Really, Rufie dear, I can't for the life of me guess I There are so tnany things you might do ; you know, you're so ingenious; — you might ask him to dinner ! (King turns away with a wild gesture of impote7it rage^ and rushes up stage. At the door he turns back and pauses a moment.') King. All right ! You'll be mighty sorry in a minute or two ! Entertain your choice friend while you've got the chance ; in ten minutes I'll be back here with a policeman, and he'll spend the night in the Raeton jail ! {He flifigs himself out of the door ; Mad. sends a peal of laughter after him, then comes forward and sits oti the end of the sofa.) Mad. {relaxed and slightly hysterical). Oh, dear, dear me! Oh, oh! But wasn't it a perfect circus? Heavens I Suppose he had come in ; I'm sure there'd have been a regular 24 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO scene ! {Pauses.) Goodness ! I hope Rufe does have him sent to jail ! It would be the best thing in the world, because I know it would put him right in the good graces of Uncle Hen \ the thought that Rufe had acted without his orders would set him simply wild ! Then there would be trouble ! Oh, isn't it splendid ! (Mary enters back l. ; Mad. goes to meet her ; they cojne forward.') Dearest, your perfect love of a husband is in a most splendiferous temper, and has gone to invoke the Raeton authorities, and cause my affinity to be placed behind the cruel, cruel bars ! Mary. Oh, Madelaine, why did you make him angry ? You know he has got such a fearful temper, and when he's roused he's so unreasonable ! Mad. Darling, I didn't have to do any making; I just stood still, and he made himself ! But don't worry ; it will all come out right in the end, and we'll all live happily ever after ! Mary. I sincerely hope so ! Just now I must go and welcome the Rev. Mr. Frey. Mad. Gracious ! I wonder what a minister wants with Uncle Hen. That is, I wonder what Uncle Hen wants with a minister. Mary. My dear, he has had a perfect stream of the queer- est people you ever saw coming to the house all the time, ever since he became a professional impressario. Mad. That means he's a kind of employment agency, doesn't it? Mary. Yes, for singers, you know; and along with the real tiling he gets all kinds of cranks and lunatics. So I'm always ready for anything. — But come ; you can help me greet the gentleman from Heathfield Parish. {The door -bell rings.) There ! Another unexpected guest ! — Goodness, suppose it should be the policeman ! (Bar. crosses the stage, and goes out back R.) How awkward, with our clerical friend on the scene ! I think that I'd better wait and receive whoever it is. Mad. I don't believe it can be Rufe, so soon ; I'll bet the Raeton pohce force is having its hands full to-night, and will be hard to locate. Bar. {offstage). This way, miss. Enter Leslie Hill, back r., followed by Bar. She comes in U'ith what might be described as a swish, looks quickly around the room, then advances toivard Mary, accom- panied by considerable parasol action. MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 2$ Les. Oh, how- do you do? This is Mrs. Tetlow, isn't it? (Shakes /lands effusively with Mary.) Mary. No, I am Mr. Tetlovv's niece, Mrs. King. Les. {still holding her hand). Oh, indeed? Charmed, I'm sure ! I am Miss Hill, and I have an appointment with Mr. Tetlow for this evening ! Mary. But Mr. Tetlow is out of town ! He has been absent for the past week, and we have no idea when he will return. Les. Oh, indeed ? Why, he wrote me only the other day that he would see me this evening, on a very important matter of business ! Mary. Gracious ! Then he will be here this evening ! It's fortunate that I had planned to wait dinner till the late train ! Miss Hill, you will dine with us, will you not ? Les. Oh, charmed, I'm sure ! Mary. Then you can talk to my uncle afterward. And now Oh, let me present Miss Sanderson, Mr. Tetlow's ward ! Les. (clinging affectionately to Mad.'s hand). Indeed! Charmed, I'm sure ! Mary. Now I must ask you to excuse me for a moment while I tell Barton that we expect Mr. Tetlow. Miss Hill, won't you remove your wraps ? Madelaine will help you ; won't you, dear? (Les. removes her coat and veil, but not her hat ; yiAK'i crosses l.., and pauses ; aside.) Oh, dear ! These people must all be famished, and dinner not for over an hour yet! I'll have to give them tea; goodness, tea at a quarter past seven ! (She goes out front r.) Les. Oh, my dear f Thank you so much ! You know, one gets so terribly upset traveling ! (She flaunts across the room, pausifig in front of the mirror front L., where she arranges her hair, and produces and uses a small vanity box.) Mad. Yes; I have just come from St. Louis myself. (Aside.) Oh, dear ! I don't feel like talking to this creature ! She looks like a common actress ! Les. (still busy). Oh, indeed ? My dear, I know what an awful trip that must be ! I've only come from New York my- self, where I've just closed an engagement. 26 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Mad. Oh, you're a singer, I suppose ? Les. Oh, yes indeed ! And I've come to see Mr. Tetlovv about helping me on a new thing that I'm going into. It's a fine chance ; I'm sure I'll make the hit of the season ! Mad. {iiot overefithusiastically). How interesting I I sup- pose you are entering the field of grand opera ? Les. Oh, no indeed I It's a musical sketch for the Battis and Reis circuit, and carries fourteen people ! Mad. {aside'). I thought so ! Oh, dear me ! I believe I'll desert the fort ! I don't believe, after all, that I want to watch my precious hero carted off to jail ! {Aloud.) How interesting ! I hope it will be a success ! Les. Oh, thanks ! I'm sure it will be ! {She finishes her operatio7is, and the vanity box vanishes.) You know, I was playing at the Folies Bergeres, but one of the big composers simply begged me to take this act, to introduce some new songs, and ^^^^//-.fff I couldn't refuse ! And my ^^^r.^ He's letting me choose my owfi company; so I've come to Mr. Tetlow to get his advice. Mad. How interesting ! I'm sure he can help you. — But I'm afraid I must ask you to excuse me; I'm so tired from my trip that I simply must rest before 1 dress for dinner. Mrs. King will be back in a few minutes. Les. {clasping her hand inipetiwusly). Oh, my dear / I'm sure I won't mind ! JDo go and lie down ; it's always so refreshing to have a nap before dinner ! I'll tell Mrs. King, if you wish. Good-hyt ! (Mad. goes out back l.) The cat ! I know she'd like to claw my eyes out ! As though she wasn't already dressed for the evening ! Just watch ; she'll put on all kinds of lugs for my benefit ! — Well / If I only had the new gown I'm going to wear in my act, wouldn't I make her hump some to beat me ? Well, I guess J And now if only my cute baseball player will turn up, things will simply hum I — And I'm to stay to dinner / Well, I think I'll look around a bit, ( Goes over to door front R., and opens it.) I wonder Oh, this must be the library ! {She looks in, and starts back.) There are three men in there ! Oh ! {Looks again.) Good- ness ! There he is ! Would you believe it ! Just think ! He must have come straight from the station ! The dear ! My, I wonder if I can attract his attention i {She takes out her handkerchief y and waves it furtively in the door.) There! He saw it ! Here he comes ! {She crosses L.) Oh, dear, I wonder if he'll try to kiss me ! MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO ^'^| Ted {bursting in, then advancing somewhat abashed^. Say ! It's little Leslie at last ! Gee, kid, I'm glad t' see youse ! {He shakes her hand at arm's length.^ Les. Oh, ifideed / I'm so glad you are pleased, Mr. Strong ! Ted, Say, kid, nix on that ! Call me anyting youse want, but nix on dat Mister business, see? I thought youse said we was t' be pals ? Les. Oh, very well ; if you want to ! Ted. Want to? Say, wot did I tell youse on th* train, hey? Wot did I come up t' this joint f r? I thought youse said youse was looking f r a steady pal, and dat I'd about fill th' bill ? And now youse hand me th' icy stare ! Les. Well, I did say something like that, because I thought you ivanted to, but after the frigid reception I got, why Ted, Say! Wot was wrong? Didn't I look tickled t' death ? Was there anyting wrong wit' d' way I mitted youse ? Les. No, not that ; but I thought that perhaps you might have {Pauses.) Ted. Oh ! {Catches her in his arms, afid kisses her.) Say, is dat wot youse meant ? Les. That's better / And now tell me who those men are in there ! Ted. Say, kiddo, dere's d' greatest bunch here youse ever laid eyes on ! Dere's a minister an' a rah-rah boy dat's hiding from d' guys outside, an' a fresh mut wot's trying t' throw me out'n here. So d' colleger and m'self has gone pals t' keep from getting bounced, and we've got d* minister guy penned up dere where he won't do no gassing. See? Les. Oh, indeed / But the lady that lives here is coming back in Just a minute, so if you don't want to be seen, you'd better beat it ! Ted, Say ! Tanks f 'r d' tip, kid ! And say, if d' lady gets wise t' us, tell her dat my name's Sumner, see? And dat d' other guy, not d' minister, is named Kelley, see? Will youse help us ? Les. Sure ; you bet I will ! Ted. Dat's good. We had t' ding d' minister guy on d* bean t' make him come around, — Gee! Here she comes; I'm off, Leslie, old kiddo I {ITe slips out front r., as Mary enters front \.., followed by 28 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Bar., with tray, which he sets on table while he gets the tea table and arranges it.) Mary. Oh, Miss Hill, I fear you will think it raost inop- portune, but 1 know you must be terribly hungry after your trip, and as dinner is not for another hour, I thought you might like some tea. Les. Oh, charmed, I'm stire ! And, Mrs. King, Miss Sanderson begged to be excused, as she had to go and dress. Mary. How strange ! I thought she had just come down from dressing for dinner ! (Les. smiles, and nods knowingly.') And I wanted her to help entertain the Rev. Mr. Frey ! Miss Hill, perhaps you would not mind if I asked a gentleman, who is also here to see Mr. Tetlow, to join us ? Les. Oh, charmed, I'm sure / Mary. He's in the next room, I believe. Barton, will you announce tea in the library ? (Bar. boivs, and crosses r.) Les. Oh, indeed/ Then he must be the strange gentleman I saw ! Mary. Strange gentleman ? Les. Oh, yes, indeed ! You see, I saw two friends of mine in there talking and a strange gentleman with them ! (Mary looks greatly surprised.) I suppose they'll come in, too ; I'll introduce them to you, if you'll let me. They're both per- fectly charming I Mary {bewildered). Oh, I should be delighted, only Enter Bar. front R. ; stands by the door, while Ted and Frey enter together, arm in arm, followed by Pren. Les. Mrs. King, do let me present my oldznA dear friends, Mr. Sumner (Mary starts, then observes the frantic signs of her brother.) Ted {shaking hands with Mary). I'm glad t' meet youse, ma'am. (Bar. goes out front i..) Les. And Mr. Kelley. MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 29 (Pren. steps forward and seizes Mary's hand in both of his^ cotitorting his face meaningly?) Pren. Very much pleased, indeed ; very much pleased ! {Aside.) For heaven's sake, don't recognize me! {Aloud.') And let me present my most esteemed friend, the right Rev. Ernest Frey, rector of St. Benedict's, Heathfield Parish ! Frey. Oh, I assure you, I am very greatly pleased to meet the daughter of my old friend, Henry Tetlow, Mrs. King ; and no less so to form the acquaintance of Miss, — er Les. (shaking hands effusively ^ then clinging to his arm). Oh, charmed, I'm sure! I'm Miss Leslie Hill, you know. Pat didn't mention my name. He's so forgetful ; aren't you, Pat? {Over her shoulder y to Pren.) Pren. {blankly). Pat? {Light dawns.) Oh, er, — yes, yes! Dreadful habit, you know! — But let's have some tea; it's ready, isn't it, Mary, — h'm, — er, Mrs. King? {He laughs confusedly.) Mary. Quite ready, Pat Oh, I mean Mr. Kelley !— Miss Hill, won't you please pour? I must go and tell Barton that Mr. Sumner will be with us for dinner. Les. Oh, charmed, I'm sure ! So kind of you to ask him to stay, my dear ! {She sits doivn on the sofa before the tea table, drawing Frey down beside her ; Ted leans against the mantel- piece, and eyes the pouring process sceptically.) Mary {aside to Pren. ; wrathfully). What on earth does this mean ? Pren. Oh, Lord, don't make me explain now ; it would take a week I Just don't be surprised at anything, and pour oil like the dickens whenever the water gets choppy I Mary. But Pren. Oh, you don't do any butting; I'm the goat here ! Just back me up, and hurry ! That crowd's not safe left alone ! Mary. Very well, I'll be with you shortly,— Pat ! 30 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO (JShe goes out front l., laughing at Pren., who makes a ges- ture of despair, and joins the rest.) Les. Oh, indeed? Isn't that perfectly rtf^f^r / You know, I always have just loved Episcopalian ministers; I think they look simply cute in their little white nighties ! (Frey ahnost drops his cup ; Pren. claws the air, and goes and sits on table L. ; Les. cofitimies breezily.') Oh, and do you know, I haven't even asked Mr. Sumner what his denomination is, though we're engaged / What are you, dear? Ted. I told youse I ain't not' in' now ! When I was in St. Louis, I was a utility outfielder, but dat guy Breshna- han Frey (wildly). Oh, really, you know, — I — I — er — let me take a cup of tea to Mr. — Mr.- (^He rises nervously, and crosses to Pren., very much agitated ; aside.) My dear sir, really, you know, I cannot submit to such sacrilege ; it is most unendurable and unpardonable ! And I cannot understand this strange duplicity of names ; really, my dear sir, if you cannot explain your position clearly to me, I shall feel called upon to Pren. Hang it, man, I can't explain ! You'll have to take my word that it's all right. And try not to mind these — er — friends of mine; they're rough diamonds, I assure you; most estimable people at heart ! Frev. Really, I am so greatly perturbed, I do not know what to do ! But I suppose I must endure until the arrival of my friend Mr. Tetlow ! (^Jle turjis reluctantly toward the tea table,) Les. [to Ted). Oh, indeed? You were really there that night in Milwaukee ? How perfectly dear / You know, I never sang so well in all my life I Frey. Only fancy 1 Did I understand you to say that you sang ? Les. Oh, yes, indeed ! That's my business, you know ! Frey (greatly delighted). Only fancy! You know, my reason for consulting Mr. Tetlow is through the necessity of filling the vacancies in our choir at St. Benedict's, in Heath- field Parish ! So perhaps, if my friend does not arrive, you might recommend some singers to me ! Les. Oh, yes, indeed ! I have lots of friends who are per- MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 3I fectly splendid ! Regular artists, you know, every one !— You see, at the Folies Bergeres I was the most popular girl in the whole chorus, and had simply /^^/^j of friends ! Frey {apprehensively'). But ! Les. {enthusiastically). Oh, I'm sure I could get you all the girls you want I Now there's Maybelle Thomas; my dear, such a stunning blonde you never saw ; — and every hair of it her very own, — and she never even has to so much as touch a curling iron to it ! Frey. Oh, but you know Les. It's perfectly wonderful, positively / — And Valerie St. Clair; oh, you'd simply love her to death I Such a com- plexion, and such glorious eyes; — just like a ^^7£/'^ — perfectly dear f — And the cutest nose, and her lips ! My dear, you simply couldn't keep yourself from kissing her ! Frey {greatly perturbed). Oh, oh, oh ! Really, my dear young lady, I ! Les. Oh, no, you simply couldn't ! — And then my very dearest friend, Viola Vanderheim ; — one of the very oldest Dutch families, quite obsolete, really, — but oh, my dear, her figure! Positively, the most gorgeous thing you ever saw; she might be Venus Milo her very self ! And her carriage, and her manner, and her walk ! — You should simply see her walk across the stage in the second act, in a pale blue satin evening gown. Oh, my dear I {Carried aivay, she sprifigs up, seizes her parasol, and strides majestically across the stage, head held high, and with considerable arm motion. Ted watches enthusias- tically, Pren. tears his hair and retreats up stage, while Frey trembles with perturbation.) Ted. Gee, great work, kid ! Frey. Oh, oh, oh !— Really, I Oh, oh! {As the scene reaches its climax, Mary e7iters front L., and stands amazed; at the same fnoment, a red glare shines through the windoiv, and grows brighter afid brighter ; while the noise of the celebrators, which has been increas- ing noticeably, suddenly swells in volume, as though the crowd had turned a corfier into the street belozv.- There appears to be some special cause for excitement, and the noise in a moment centres directly otitside of the house.) 32 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Mary. Why, have you finished tea already ? Frey. Really, my dear madame, I must bid you good- bye, and leave this house 1 I — I cannot longer endure the indignities which this — this {He eyes Les., and hesitates ; she watches hifn in surprised inco})iprehensiofiJ) Mary. Why, what do you mean ; you are going ? Frey. Really, I fear so, my dear madame; as rector of St. Benedict's and a minister of the gospel, I cannot remain longer in this house. Kindly inform Mr. Tetlow that I will communicate with him at the first opportunity. Les. Then you won't even consider my suggestions ? {Receiving fio answer j she flaunts her head, and Joins Ted by the sofa.) Mary. But I don't understand at all why you are leaving; and really, you must not go out just this minute; the boys from the college seem to have made a rendezvous here, and if you get among them, it is very possible that you might be caused great annoyance. {The bell rings ; Bar. crosses r.) Pren. Yes, yes ! You really must not go out ; you must stay to dinner, at least ! Perhaps you would like to have a little talk with my sister about her art work ; you know, she studied several years at the Art Students' League, in New York ! Les. Oh, indeed / You know, I posed for them there once, — as a water nymph ! And I almost had pneumonia afterward ! Frey. Oh, oh, oh ! Really, I ! {Distracted, he tries confusedly to reach the door ; King's voice is heard in the hall; he enters, followed by a police- man, Jim.) King. Come along, officer ; here we are ! There ; arrest that man ! {He points at Ted ; Jim approaches him.) Jim. You're my prisoner ! Come along, now ; lively ! MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 33 (Les. screams y and throws her arms around Ted's neck.) Les. Oh, don't you dare ! That's the man you want ! {She points at Pren. ; Jim goes toward hi?n, but Mary throws her arm around her brother's ?ieck a?id pushes him away.') Mary. Don't you dare touch my brother ! You shan't arrest him ! Jim. By Godfrey ! {Sees Frey, who in the confusion has retreated to extreme front x..) Ah-ha ! You're the man I'm after, then, I guess ! Come along with you ! {He seizes him by the collar and drags him to the middle of stage.) Frey. Oh, I protest ! I protest ! This is some horrible mistake ! I am the Rev. Ernest Frey, rector of St. Benedict's, Heathfield Parish, and — King. The devil, officer, that's not the man ! But {He turns inquiringly toivard Les. ajid Ted, who are still in a clinch.) Is that the lady you came here to meet ? Ted. Sure it is ! Wot guy said it wasn't ? King. Then I humbly apologize ; I have made a big mis- take. {Turns.) And I must apologize to you, officer, for bringing you here under false pretences Jim. False pretences, is it, hey ? Well, in that case you'll do your apologizing to the judge; and there'll be a good-sized fine in that apology, too ! Come along, now ! {He seizes King by the arm.) King. Good Lord ! But see here ; let me explain ! I thought {He is dragged out.) All. Ho, ho, ho! Oh, Rufe! Wot t'ell ! My dear! Oh, oh, oh ! Mary. Oh, what can be wrong ? {She starts to go up stage ; Pren. follows her, but suddenly grabs and drags her back.) Pren. {intensely excited). My God ! They're climbing up to the window ! Quick ! Or they'll see me ! 34 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO {^He dashes to the table, and turns out the light. The room is again in darkness, except for the fire, and the glare at the luindow.. The figures ^ Pren. and Mary move about confusedly a mofnent, then go out back L. Bar. goes out front L. ; Ted and Les. hurry into the library, leaving Frey alone. He runs distractedly about the room, k^iock- ing things over, afid finally hides behind the sofa in front of the fire. As Pren. turfis out the light, the front door is heard to slam, and a hoivl goes up from the crowd, in which individual cries can be distinguished : ^^You've got ' im , Jim / " ' ' ' Ray for Jim / " ''We' II help you, Jim / ' ' "Don't try to escape/" ''Let's lynch 'im!" " On to the fail !" A voice starts to sing ' 'John Brown's Body ' ' ; the rest gradually take it up. As all begin to sing, and the procession starts^ the curtain falls swiftly.') ACT II SCENE. — The same. The r 00771 is in darkTtess, as at the end of Act I ; only afai7it glare shows at the wi7idoiv. In the distance is heard 77111 ffled cheeri7ig, atid the faint strains of '^ Joh7i J3ro2U7i's Body.'' (Frey is huddled up beside the sofafro7ifR.; after n few 7no7ne?its he peeps cautiously over the sofa, a7id looks about the room. Then he rises gradually, a7id tiptoes toivard the window. He stimibles against a7i overturned chair, and dashes back to the sofa ; the7i advances again. He sta7ids a mo77te7it by the window, looking out, the7i feels his way forward, and leans agaitist the iable.~) Frey. Oh, oh, oh ! Upon my word, this is too terrible 1 I must escape ! Really {Pauses.) I wonder if I might venture to turn up the light once more ! {^He ftwibles ti77iidly with the light, which suddenly flashes 07i. He Jumps.') Oh ! Ah, that is better ! {He looks about hi7n.) They are all de- parted ; such a relief ! Really, I do not believe that I could endure another encounter with that terrible person ! Only fancy ! An actress ! And I, the rector of St, Benedict's, Heathfield Parish ! {Words fail hi7n.') Oh, dear! I must at once escape this den of iniquity, which I had hoped to find a harbor from the frightful condition of the city without 1 Dear, dear ! And I cannot make my escape through the streets on foot; I must summon a vehicle to convey me to an hotel. Only fancy ! And I had anticipated so pleasant an evening in the company of my old friend ! {He goes back r., and leans over telephone directory on desk. ) Let me see {He rambles on under his breath, thtmibing the leaves.) I be- lieve that the livery stable is managed by a person named Olcott. Only fancy ! One would associate that name rather with singers than horses ! (Bar. has entered front h. ; he obse7'ves Frey's back, a7id after a 77iome7if s i7ispection, 710 ds his head k7iowingly.) Bar. Ah ! Hat last ! Ther' 'e is, and now Hi must throw 35 36 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 'im hout ! Oh, Lord ! Hi 'opes the beggar doesn't show fight ! Hi' 11 grab 'im from be'ind, that's wot Hi'U do ! {He tiptoes up behind Fkey, quickly pinions his arms from behind^ a?id rushes him front R., and across stage.) Ho, there! Now Hi've got you ! Don't resist; hout you goes ! Frey {clinging desperately to the table in passing). Oh, oh, oh ! But I protest ! This is an outrage ! I beg you to hear me ! Bar. {puffing). Don't argufy ! This '11 teach you 'ow not to climb hinto windows ! Hout with you ! {Forces him nearly to the door.) Frey. But this is assault ! I shall summon the police « Oh, oh ! Release me at once ! {He struggles, and breaks loose ; Bar. follows, and seizes him again from behind, Just at the doorway ; King enters through it suddenly. He is considerably rwnpled.) King. Here ! What the devil does this mean ? Barton ! Leave this gentleman alone ! Bar. Hi can't, sir ! Hi've got to throw 'im hout ! Hit's master's orders that if Mister Prentice tries to henter the King. But, you idiot ! This isn't Mr. Prentice ! Bar. {releasing Frey). Wot ! Frey {trying to regain a sof?iewhat unsettled dignity). Certainly not ! I am the Rev. Ernest Frey, rector of St. Benedict's, Heathfield Parish, and I protest King. Of course ! I don't blame you in the least ! Barton, go down-stairs, and wait till I send for you. Quick, now ! Bar. Yes, sir ! ( Withdraws in disorder.) King {taking Frey's arm, and coming forward). And now, my dear sir, let me explain and apologize. There has evidently been a most disastrous mistake, and Frey. Quite correct, sir ; and, I might add, quite unpar- donable ! I shall inform the police at once, and institute suit against the inmates of this house for assault and battery ! King. But, my dear Mr. Frey, you must not do that ! Mr. Tetlow would never forget it, and I am sure that he will make all right again as soon as he is acquainted with the situation. Yon shall have full restitution ! Frey. Really, though, I feel almost inclined to place upon MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 37 him the whole blame, as his presence here would have pre- vented everything ; whereas, after promising to meet me to-night, he has neglected to do so, and left me to face these terrible ex- periences alone ! King. He promised to be here to-night ? But we received no word of his intention ! Still, my dear Mr. Frey, I am sure that if you will try to forget what has happened, and will re- main with us until my uncle arrives Frey. Ah ! Your uncle, did you say ? King. Yes; I am Mr. King, and as my uncle's repre- sentative in his absence, I am sure I can promise you protec- tion. Frey. Oh, I am so relieved ! For if you represent Mr. Tetlow, perhaps I can execute my business with you. You see, 1 must leave for Boston to-morrow on a very early train, so if King. Yes, yes \ I see ! But — er — about the nature of this business ? Frey. I wish to procure two singers, a man and a woman, to fill the vacancies in our choir at St. Benedict's, and I depend upon the advice of Mr. Tetlow in my selection. King. Oh, I see ! — But I don't believe that I could help you, unless {He pauses^ then appears hit with an idea.) Oh, I say ! Perhaps if I could get you a couple of singers here, you would be able to decide whether they would do? Frey. Oh, really, — I (Pauses, hesitatingly.) King. Of course, that would be impossible, if you do not feel competent to judge Frey (with dignity). My dear sir, as rector of St. Bene- dict's, I am quite confident that I possess the ability to select proper members for its choir ! King. All well and good then ! I'll see what I can do. (He rings bell.) You had better go up to my room, and rest yourself before passing judgment. (Bar. appears.) Barton, show the Rev. Mr. Frey up to my room. (Bar. bows, and goes out back L., Frey following. King throws himself on the sofa.) Whew 1 Worse and more of it ! Now, where the devil am I going to produce two singers from ! I mustn't let one of Uncle Hen's best customers go off unsatisfied ; I must find something ! And what the deuce can /do ; I don't know beans about the blame business ! It's lucky, I don't believe his Reverence knows much more ! But why isn't my uncle here ! Lord, what a mess ! 38 MR. KLELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO (He jumps tip, and walks up and down the room. Pren. enters back l., sees /lim, and comes forward jubilantly.') Pren. Ho, ho ! My precious jailbird ! How goes the life behind the bars ? Ha, ha, ha ! King. Oh, shut up ! I'm in the deuce of a mess, and I'll thank you to mind you own business ! Pren. Oh, you will, hey ? Well, how about a little while ago, when you thought it such a joke my being in trouble ? Come, tell us what's up! How did you get back so soon? Some one stand your bail ? King. No. The fickle populace decided it would be more fun to rescue me, and lynch the officer in my place. So here 1 am. Pren. Hairbreadth Harry, eh ? Well, I'm mighty glad you got off; but if you could have seen the expression on your face when the cop was hauling you out, — ho, ho, ho ! King. Oh, shut up ! You're no one to laugh ! Do you know that the Rev. Ernest says that your uncle promised to meet him here to-night ? Pren. Oh, damn ! So he told me, too ! I'd forgotten. But hang it ! Pve got to stay here ! Don't you see, man ? King. No. I don't see ! You know what will happen if he finds you here. Enter Bar., back l. Bar. {dubiously). Beg pardon, sir; ha telegram for you, sir King. Give it to me. {Takes it.) And Barton, in future be careful who you try to throw out, understand ? You have grossly insulted one of Mr. Tetlow's most valuable customers and friends. Of course, if you catch young Prentice around, treat him as roughly as you please, but make sure you've got the right man. You may go. Bar. Yes, sir ! {Goes out front h.) Pren. Thanks, old fellow ; you're always so thoughtful ! Now let's see what's in the telegram. King. Oh, yes, I forgot ! {He opens and reads the tele- gram. A relieved smile spreads over his face.) Well, at last ! One bright ray of sunshine in all this gloom ! Listen ! "Will be home to-morrow on 8: 15; arrange to meet Rev. Ernest Frey on 6 : 30 from New York." Signed, H. Tetlow ! Well, thank heaven ! That's off my mind ! The Rev. Ernest MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 39 must luive mixed his dates. Now you can associate with the rest of uii without fear of any dramatic entrance on the part of your uncle. Pren. Well, that is great ! Now let's get our happy little family together, and the Rev. Ernest will give us his blessing ! King. No, he won't ! Not unless I can get my hands on a couple of singers for his blessed choir to-night. You see he's got to go on to Boston to-morrow morning. Uncle Hen or no Uncle Hen. Pren. And you've got to get him a couple of songsters be- fore he'll be quite happy and serene ? King. That's it ! Pren. All right. We'll fix him out in fine shape ! We haven't any genuine Pattis on hand, but I'll tell you what we'll do. Great idea ! My friend Strong, alias Sumner, and my- self will stand in front of that fine red screen over there, and behind that screen you can operate my uncle's fine new Victrola ! Oh, very clever ! King. Don't be an ass ! Try and think of something. Pren, {enthusiastically). I have ! You turn on the Caruso stuff, we'll go through the motions, and the old duffer won't know the difference ! You can fix him up with a pair of blue glasses ! King. Nonsense ! It would never work in the world 1 Pren. Oh, be a sport ! There's a chance that we might slip one over on the old stiff, and it would be a lark, anyway ! And what else is there to do? You can't materialize real singers out of thin air on the spur of the moment ! King {wavering). We-U, he did just the same as say that he didn't know anything about music ; and if we could manage to get hold of his spectacles Pren. Great work ! We'll fox the Rev. Ernest, and fox him good and plenty ! Now I'll go find Strong King. But the deuce ! I forgot that one of them's got to be a woman ! Pren. All right ; I guess our friend Miss Hill will assist us. But you be sure to capture his specs, and not let him get too close to her, or there'll be a riot ! — Now hustle along and do the Fagin act, while I coach up the rest of the cast. I'll wig-wag you when we're ready. King. All right. But for heaven's sake, don't make any slips ! The poor old idiot is on the verge of nervous prostration now, and another jolt and he'll be jumping out of the window I 40 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO (^He goes out back l. ) Pren. Good enough ! By Jove, this is going to be one circus ! Now that I know my dear uncle is hors de combat, I'm beginning to enjoy life once more ! Hm ! I have a notion that the rest of the troupe are in the library executing a clinch to soft music ! I'll herald my approach by a little off stage business ! {^He goes back l., a?idco?nes across the stage, tramp- ing loudly y kicking over a chair ofi the ivay, and singing at the top of his voice.) Ho, la, la ! — tra, la, la ! — tum, tidy, turn, turn ! {Rattles handle of door a mofnent, then kicks it open. Pauses J apparcfitly abashed; in a surprised tone.) Oh, there you are ! Been looking everywhere for you ! Can you come in here for a moment ? I want your help, both of you. {He crosses L.) Oh, very clever ! Enter l.^s., followed by Ted. Les. Oh, charmed, I'm sure! What is it? Are you planning to get your friend out of jail ? You know, I'm just sure that Ted could er, — persuade the judge to let him go ! Pren. No; that part's all right. The rah rah Indians rescued him at the critical moment, and are now boiling the police force in oil. But our friend his Reverence threatens to go off mad unless Rufe can produce a couple of singers to join his choir. Now we can't let him do that, because he's one of my uncle's strong cards ; so, just to pacify him, Rufe wants you and me to pretend that we're singing, while he plays the Victrola behind that screen ! See ? {He finishes off triumphantly, very much pleased with his scheme.) Les. {coldly at first ; then working up to a climax). In- deed I Oh, really ? I see I So ! I'm to stand up and make faces in front of a screen, while your friend plays a phonograph behind it? Indeed! Well! I'll have you to understand right now that when my voice reaches the stage when I have to go into the moving picture business, you can make your plans to have me sent right off to the old ladies' home ; and if your smart friend will come around himself, I'll tell him what I think of his old plan in a way that he'll remember as long as he lives 1 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 4I {She flounces across stage R., and sits down on sofay with her back turned.) Ted {grinning). Gee, guy ! But youse got in wrong dat time 1 Pren. {considerably wilted). Oh, Lord, but I a7n clever ! {Suddenly.) But — er — don't you understand, my dear Miss Hill, that my friend in his idea was thinking of 7ne and my limitations ! Of course, he had no thought of insinuating that you could not hold your own against any singer ; but, you see, he knows that I'm such a dub and an ass and a blockhead that Les. {sweetly). Oh, well, if thafs the case, I'd be charmed to help you out ! Ted. Dat's talking, kid ! Pren. {aside, pattifig himself on back). Oh, tact ! Won- derful tact ! {Aloud.) That's fine ! — Now, about getting off this little deception. Of course, the Rev. Ernest knows us, and would be suspicious ; but Rufe is going to try and make way with his spectacles, and I thought possibly that you might employ a veil or something as a disguise Les. Oh, my dear I How perfectly lovely ! Of course I can ! Why, I've got all my make-up things right in my suit- case ; in five minutes you won't know me ! And I can fix you up with the most beautiful mustache ; just take an old puff, you know, and Pren. {enthusiastically). Oh, fine ! Say, that's the right idea ! And we can practice up some gestures, y* know, real operatic Les. Splendid ! Come ; let's go to the library right now, and get started I And I'll tell you what we'll do ; we'll ( They go out rapidly front r. ; Ted stares after them a moment, then a broad grin spreads over his face.) Ted. Say, I wonder where I come in on this, hey? I guess dey slipped one over on me dat time ! I'll be lucky if I get a job as d' official announcer ! Gee, though, it's going to be some show, believe me ! I wonder where d' old gink is, anyway ? Enter King, back l. King. Ah, Mr. Strong ! Is everything going on all right ? Where are the others ? 42 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Ted. Dey's in d' next room, doing a quick change. Gee, guy, I'll bet youse won't know 'em when little Leslie gets through wid d' grease paint box 1 King. Grease paint, hey ? By Jove, they are playing the game with a vengeance ! Ted. Betcher life ! Say, wen dat kid starts t' do a ting, she does it t' rights, guy ! Believe me, some class ! King. I'm sure of it ! And — er — by the way, Mr. Strong, I hope that you have forgotten my extreme rudeness a little while ago ; it was due to a most regrettable mistake, and I'm sure Ted. Say, kid, nix on dat stuff ! I was just about t' ask youse t' slip me y'r mit becuz o' my being a bit hasty on start- ing someting widout putting youse wise t' who I wuz ! So plant it dere, kiddo ! ( They shake hands strenuously.) And now we're all mixed into dis togedder, hey? King. We do seem to be engaged in a rather complex con- spiracy. And now let's get everything ready for the show. I've made way with his glasses all right ! (^He shows ihem^ and crosses r., lays them on mantelpiece, then kneels in front of the Victrola, opening it.) Would you mind bringing that screen over here ? Ted (^getting screen). Gee ; it looks like I might be a stage hand, anyhow ! But say, guy ; I'd like t' get in on dis show ! I wonder if dey couldn't woik me in as d' chorus? I'd show d' Rev. Oinest d' way it ought t' be done ! (He sets down the screen, and trips to fro?it jnincingly .) ''Oh, goils ! Here comes d' duchess ! " How about it, guy? King. I'm sure he'd be deeply affected ! But remember ; he's looking for vocal talent. Ted. All right! I'll sing f'r d' gink! (Clogs vio- lently.') '* Casey Jones, — mounted to d' cabin, — Casey Jones, — his orders in his hand, — Casey Jones " {Stops short.) Say ! No kidding, guy, dere's too mucli class t' me t' ever break into any bush league choir ! And besides, he wouldn't want me ; I'd get a bigger hand from d* congregation dan he would ! King. I think you decidedly would ! — But at the present time, I think you'll have to hide your light under a bushel, and act as operator to the song factory. I'll have my hands full occupying the old gent's attention so that he can't watch the performance any too closely. And speaking of angels, I think I hear him coming now. You entertain him, while J go MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 43 get Barton to watch the front door in case of any more un- expected arrivals. {He goes out front L.) Ted. Entertain him, huh ? Gee ; I'd like t' give him a real entertainment ! Well, here comes d' old duck ; say, I wish I had a disguise, too ! {He turns toward back L. ; Frey enters, preceded by soufids of some one stumbling about. He gropes his way to the front of the stage.) Frey. Oh, oh, oh ! Really, this is most embarrassing ! I feel utterly lost ! (He runs into 'Ved.) Oh, is that you ? Ted. Naw ! It's not me ! It's d' ghost of Napoleon Bonaparte, disguised as Carrie Nation ! Frey. Oh, 1 beg your pardon ! I thought that you were Mr. King ; but I judge by your voice that I was mistaken ! You see, I am in a most distressing dilemma ; I have very carelessly mislaid my spectacles, and without them I am entirely helpless ! Really, I do not possibly see how I could have lost them ! As I remember, I discarded them in order to bathe my face, and in the meantime they disappeared most miraculously ! But dear me, I am so perturbed and unstrung that I am unable to think calmly, or I should try to trace them in my memory. Ted. Say, kiddo, but y're in hard luck ! I'd like t' help youse, honest I would, but I ain't seen no goggles ! Frey. Thank you greatly for your kind interest ; I feel sure, however, that I shall succeed in discovering them. — Let me see ; where would I be most likely to lay them ? — Ah, yes ! Upon the mantelpiece, of course ! Now, as I remember, the fireplace was on this side of the room (He starts groping to the right ; Ted heads him back.) Ted. I'm afraid y'r memory's off dere, m' friend ; d' place )'()use wants is just in d' other direction, see ? Frey. Ah, indeed ? Thank you kindly ! Now really, I would have been most positive that as one entered the room, it was on the left hand side ! However, I shall search over here, as you advise ! {He starts L.) Ted. Say ! It's a crime t' take d' money off'n a guy like him ! Enter Yin^G front h-y followed by Bar. 44 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO King. Ah, your Reverence ! Down already ? Frey. Ah, it is Mr. King ! At last ! Such a relief ! My dear sir, I am in a most perplexing situation ! I have mislaid my spectacles, and 1 can no longer even clearly see my way about ; in fact, I am quite helpless ! You have not, per- chance, observed them anywheres, have you ? King. Why, I'm very much afraid that I can't be of any service, much as I sympathize with you. But don't worry ; they'll be found, all right ! * I'll have Barton make a thorough search. By Jove, it's lucky that at any rate you won't need them to try out voices with, isn't it ? Frey. Really, you know, that is one of my greatest causes for perturbation ! I must not only secure good singers, but must also ascertain whether the applicants are of eminent presentability. In the selection of a choir, you know, it is most imperative King. Oh, of course ; I understand thoroughly ! But couldn't you trust me to give you a description of the personal appearance of the applicants? Frey. Oh, certainly ! That would be an excellent way of removing the difficulty ! I should be perfectly willing to have you vouch for them ! King. Very well ; I'll give you a word picture of each one. — And now, if you will sit down here, your Reverence, I think they will be ready to commence immediately ! (^He seats Frey at extreme L., and crosses R. ; aside, to Ted.) Is everything primed ? Ted. To th' minute ! King. Then crank her up ! {He opens the door, and beckofis within.) Good heavens ! What have we here? Enter Pren. and Les. ; Pren. is beautified with a ferocious mustache ; he has removed his coat, and draped himself in a red window curtain ; Les. has radically modified her coiffure, upon which she wears a bright table cover as a mantilla ; she has removed her traveling coat, revealing a dark silk shirt-waist. Both are made up heroically. Les. Well ! Do you think we'll make good ? Pren. Carramba ! {Twirls his mustache.) Lead me be- fore Caesar ! King. My word ! A fine pair of choir singers you are ! It's lucky he's so blind, or he'd die of heart failure in a minute ! — Now see here ! Don't either of you cross this line {indicating MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 45 the middle of the stage), or the jig's up. You won't bear close inspection ! Now get ready, while I introduce you. (Ife crosses to Frey ; Pren. and Les. whisper together ; Ted puts a record on the Victrola.) Your Reverence, they are here ! Allow me to present to you Miss DeMario and Mr. Cheeso, the well-known oratorio singers ! Frey {7-isitig and starting across stage). Ah, I am delighted to make your acquaintances ; your names sound very familiar. (King stops hi?n at center of stage.) King. I'm afraid that you can't shake hands with them now ; they're very busy, er, — tuning their throats ! (Escorts him back.) Frey. Ah, I understand ! Er, — most necessary ! — Then could you just give me an idea of their personal appearances, as you promised ? (Les. aw^PREN. look up.) King. Oh, certainly ! With great pleasure ! Miss DeMario is of medium height, very handsome figure, light hair and com- plexion, beautiful features, fine carriage ; — altogether quite stunning, I assure you ! (Les. s?niles, aiid waves her hand ; Ted shows approbation.) On the other hand, Mr. Cheeso, though very respectable looking, is hardly to be called hand- some ; in fact, he is decidedly plain, his features are badly formed, he has no figure at all, he is a bit pigeon-toed and knock-kneed, and (Pren. breaks in excitedly.) Pren. A riverderci ! A riverderci ! Machen Sie schnell ! King. Ah, indeed? {To Frey.) He says that they are ready, so let us give them our attention ! {Sits down by Frey.) Pren. {aside to Ted). All ready? Ted. Let her go ! Pren. (stepping fonvard) . Ladies and gentlemen, we shall first sing for you La Gioconda RigoUetti, avec un morceau de Sans Souci ! Prestidigito ! Aliens, mes enfants ; prenez garde ! 46 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO {^He and Les. strike expectant altitudes, as though ready to sing.) ViCTROLA (with the wrong record, as it gets under way). Uruchh ! — Skqrrrrr-trz ! — rrrzzrr-strr-st Steamboat Bill, — sailing down the Mississippi, — Steamboat Bill (Pren. and Les. fall upon Ted. ; King rushes across stage.) Pren. Shh ! Cut it ! Cut it ! King. For heaven's sake, what are you doing? Les. My dear / Do you want to queer the whole show ? Ted. Well, youse didn't say not'in' except dat youse wanted good music, so I thought King. Hereafter don't you do any thinking ; you crank the machine ! {Glances hastily at record, and slips it on.) Now, try again ! [He crosses to Frey, ivho is greatly be- wildered.') I must apologize for the interruption ; our neigh- bor's little boy disturbed the artists by breaking in with a very unsuitable obligate ; however, it shall not reoccur ! Now, if you are ready ! Pren. Bona sera ! Ungewissershreinermacherheller ! Yip- i-addy-i-aye ! Fi done ! {He and Les. again take their places. The Victrola gets a flying start, and commences to render a xylophone solo of " The Palms.'" Pren. and Les. wait expectantly, and make several false starts but no voice appears. Pren. exasperated.) See here; do you expect me to do an imitation of a set of chimes ? Les. Well, I should say not ! King. Lord! Don't tell me that I've made a mistake! {Crosses r.) Quick ! Stop the cursed thing ! (Removes record, and reads title.) " Xylophone Solo ! " I atn an idiot ! Well, this time there'll be no mistake ! (He puts on a new record, after careful examination.) Now go ahead ! (Crosses to Frey.) My dear sir, a very unfortunate mistake has taken place ; the accompanist was rendering the wrong selection entirely, one quite impossible to sing, you know ; in the key of C, all sharps and flats ! Most difficult to execute, you know, even on a piano ! Frey. Ah, yes, yes ! Most annoying ! But quite a com- mon affliction, I'm very sure ! It gives us great trouble in all our choir work ! King. Hush ! They're going to begin ! MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 47 Pre.^. Sadofsky II Trovatore Dingbat ! Attendey 1 {^He ani Les. strike poses ; the Victrola coi7imefices, atid begins to pour the duet from ^^ La Boheme'^ out of its system ; Pren. and Les. go through the niotio?is with great energy, but little coherence ; Frev is both delighted and nervous, and tries sev- eral times to rise ; King holds him back, and tries to distract his attention ivith a large photograph album. Suddenly the Victrola heaves a sigh and drops half a tone in pitch, then steadily sinks ; the performers evince at first astonishment, then annoyance ; they try to keep ofi acting, but when only a deep groan issues forth, they give up iii despair ^ Pren. fran- tically tearing off his mustache.) Well? Les. I should say so ! Well ? King {tearing his hair, and crossing r.). What on earth is the matter ? Ted. Don't blame me ! I ain't touched it ! King. That's just what's wrong ! Wind the brute up; the mechanism has run down ! Pren. {investigating). That's easy to say ; but I don't see any crank ! And I've got a secret hunch that there isn't one here, nor within a hundred miles of here ! King. You may be right ! The machine only came from the factory yesterday, and probably it was left behind. Well, the jig's up ! You see what your fine plan came to ! Pren. {cheerfully). Well, there's only one other thing to do, since all other aid fails us ; we'll have to do the singing ourselves ! King. Oh, fine ! And then the Rev. Ernest would go swiftly on his way, and at once cause my uncle's license to be revoked, even if he didn't call in the police on the spot ! Les. {freezingly). Oh, indeed f Well! King. Oh, I mean, that is to say, if Mr. Prentice were to sing, or rather attempt to. You see Pren. No, I don't see at all ! Here you've been slander- ing my vocal cords, and you've never even heard them ! Now you can shut up for a while; I'm going to sing, and if you object, why, then you can sing instead ! King. All right ! Just as you please ! It's your funeral from now on. I'll pacify the victim until you're ready. {He returns to Frey, who is on the verge of nervous col- lapse.) Les. Oh, that will be fine / Now, what shall we sing ? 48 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Pren. How about " Billy " ? Les. N-o; it's got to be real highbrow; — though we could work in a lovely dance with " Billy " ! {She hums, and da?ices a few steps.') Pren. Well, if it's got to be highbrow, it's got to be. Hm ! See here — {to Ted) what do you suggest ? Ted {decisively). See here, guy, from now on youse leave me out'n dis deal, see ? Every time I mixes wit' dis classic game, I strikes a backfire, and I'm done, see? Pren. All right; don't get sore about it! (71? Les.) We'll have to think up somethi?ig / Les. Oh, dear, I'm sure that {The door-bell rings.) Pren. That settles it ! Here comes my uncle ! King {springing tip). It can't be ! Remember the tele- gram. And don't worry ; Barton will keep anybody else out. E Titer Bar., back r. Bar. Hi'm sorry, sir, but there's a gentleman hinsists 'e has an appointment with Mr. Tetlow, and won't leave, sir ! King. Good heavens ! Surely all these people can't have mixed their dates ! Show the gentleman up, Barton. {He motions to Ted to mount guard over Frey, which he does with alacrity ; to Pren.) See here, this looks devihsh like the old gent was due to turn up ! Pren. Rot ! He wouldn't have telegraphed if he hadn't made a sudden change of plan ! Don't worry; Pm not going to. Here's the new member ! Enter Ignatz Demarest Rogers, back r. ; he is very artis- tically dressed, and carries a large roll of music in one hand, his silk hat in the other. He glances majestically around, the?i bows effusively to each and every person ; he is, all in all, an extremely suave a7id polished proposition. Ignatz. Ah, ladies and gentlemen ! I greet you ! {Bows again.) And may I make so bold as to inquire which of you is Mr. Henry Tetlow, Esq. ? King. Why, I'm very sorry, but Mr. Tetlow is out of town ; however, I am his nephew, Mr. King, and if I can be of any assistance MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 49 Ignatz. Ah, yes ! Thank you so much ! His nephew, Mr. King! {Bows agai?i.) And Mrs. King, I presume? {Bows /^ Les. ; much perturbation all around.) Ah, no? A thousand pardons, I assure you, a thousand pardons ! But may I make so bold as to introduce myself? My name is Demarest Rogers, and Les. Not 1. Demarest Rogers ? Ignatz {bowing). Ah, yes, even so ! Ignatz Demarest Rogers, of Schenectady ! Les. Really / The famous composer ? Ignatz. Ah, indeed, you flatter me much, much too much ! Les. No, indeed / Why, everybody knows who you are ! Ignatz. Ah, mayhap, but Les. Yes, indeed / Just think, it was you who wrote that perfectly cute song, "When I'm Thinking of Those Dreamy, Creamy Eyes " ! (Ignatz is overwhelmed ; so are the others. King breaks in abruptly.) King. And you say, Mr. Rogers, that you had an appoint- ment here with Mr. Tetlow to-night? Ignatz. Ah, no, not precisely. But he said that he would arrive home to-day, and I made so bold as to call at once ! However, if you say that he is not here, I shall take my leave. {He bows all around.) King {7noving to the door). Really, I am greatly grieved that my uncle is not here to receive you, but Les. {grabbing Pren. by the ar?n). Quick ! Don't let him get away! Don't you see? He can suggest a song for us, and play our accompaniment ! Pren. By Jove, you're right ! An angel unaware ! ( They hurry up stage ; Pren. engages Ignatz in afi aside ^ while Les. draws King forward.) Les. Oh, Mr. King, we're going to get Mr. Rogers to help us ; so quick ! Get Ernie away from the piano I That's a dear ! King. I see! {Crosses to Frey.) My very dear sir, I regret unspeakably all this delay, and it must annoy you greatly, but it has been entirely unavoidable. We have been obliged to discharge the accompanist, because he could 50 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO not modulate the correct harmonic tempo of the dominant sonata Frey. Dear me, how annoying ! And quite unpardonable ! King. Exactly ! A most unheard-of situation ! {He takes Frey's arm and pilots him across the stage y l^^D following.') However, our new incumbent promises to be very satisfactory ; he is a famous composer of symphonic arpeggios, and a past- master in the art of vocal orchestration 1 Frey. Ah, indeed? (King pushes him into a chair just by the corner of the mantelpiece, while Ted moves the sofa forward so as to form a barrier ; they both engage him in conversation.) Les. {coining forward with Pren. and Ignatz). Oh, how perfectly sweet of you to help us out ! And you say that you think that will be the best thing for us to sing ? Pren. You know, old man, we'd much prefer to sing one of your own things Ignatz. Ah, you flatter me too much, much too much ! But since you say that you are not familiar with any of my works, I will make so bold as to suggest that you execute the one which I named. Now, let me see. {He unrolls fnusic, and moves toiuard the piano.) Arranged as a duet, it would be most effective to {They discuss the execution aside.) King. Yes, indeed ! Why, he plays the harp and the violin both at the same time 1 Frey. How extraordinary ! Ah, it must be wonderful to be so talented ! King. Wonderful ! Wonderful ! And the years of hard work and training it takes ! They say that he lives for months at a time on a raw €:gg and milk diet when he's composing a masterpiece ! (Pren. waves to him.) But I think they are ready to begin. Hush ! We must be sure not to disturb them ! Ignatz. All ready? Pren. Fire ! {He and Les. get on their marks ; Ignatz indulges in an elaborate introduction, a7id finally gives the open- ing chords, 7iodding to Pren. Pren. sings.) I wa-ander on as in a dream ! MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 5 1 (ZT/i- voice is not so bad but tJiat it inigJit be worse ; what he lacks in vocal excellence he makes up in pJiysical exertion.^ Les. The ear-rth a paradise would seem ! (Her voice is just the same as Pren.'s, only more so. King has a spasm ; Ted is greatly pleased ; Frey cannot ana- lyze his emotion^ but seejiis to divine that something is wrong, and attempts to rise and investigate ; he is dis- suaded by the combined efforts of King and Ted. Pren. and Les. continue to sing alternate lines, gesturing while singing, and standing quiet while the other perfortns ; they reach the chorus, and both sing together, gesticulating violently ; the volume of sound is immense ; King sits on the sofa, zvatching breathlessly, apparently helpless from laughter ; Ted, highly elated, follows every movement in- tently ; Frey is greatly perturbed, and tries several times to get past Ted, who shoves him back once or twice, finally turning fiercely ; Frey starts back and hits his head violently against the mantelpiece ; he rubs his head, then passes his hand over the offending projection, and strikes his missing spectacles ; ivith an exclamation of joy he puts them on and turns around ; Pren. a?id Les. are on the last lines, and are stajiding with arms passio?iately out- stretched to7vard each other ; Frey observes, recognizes, gasps audibly, aiid seeks flight through the library door ; Ted hears the gasp, turns, and sees him dis appear ifig ; he calls to King, and goes in pursuit, King followitig pre- cipitously.) REN. » LQ.yg j^g^ — ^j^fj ^^ wor-rld, — is mi-ne ! (Amid a crashifig climax from the piano, they throw their arms around each other, and indulge ifi a long kiss ; at this moment Mad. enters back L., recognizes Pren., and starts back in amazement, concealing herself behind the windoiv curtains. Ig^atz finishes with a flourish.) Les. Oh, Mr. Rogers, that was simply fine I Pm sure Mr. Frey {She turns, and sees that the others have gone ^ Well! I like that! Pren. Good heavens ! They're gone ! Something must be wrong ! 52 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Ignatz. Ah, doubtless ! And may 1 raake so bold as to suggest that we follow and investigate ! Les. Oil, yes; do let's ! {All three go out front R., hastily.) Mad. {coming forward^. Oh, the perfect brute ! To think ! And after all his protestations ! And I thought he was so Pren. {entering hurriedly). Oh, Lord ! He's found his specs ! {Sees Mad.) Why By Jove ! But I'm glad to see you again ! Where did you run off to? {She gives him a withering glafice, and starts to siveep inajestically up stage.) But what the Won't you speak to me? 1 say, what's wrong ? {Pauses ; aside.) 1 know ! She's trying to kid me ! {As she reaches the door, he whistles and calls after her.) Look at me, birdie ! Mad. {turfiing wrathfully, and coming down stage). Birdie ! Don't you dare call me such names ! Oh, don't you ever dare speak to me again ! You're a perfect brute, and a mean, hate- ful, deceitful thing ! I just wish 1 could Oh ! {She goes to pieces entirely.) Pren. Oh, but I say! Can't you tell me the cause of all this ? What reason have you for Mad. Reason? Then I suppose you don't consider it reason, and reason enough for me to hate you, that after all you said and told me such a short time ago, I should find you in the act of kissing a common, vulgar actress ! Oh, I should think that you'd be ashamed of yourself to stand there facing me ! Pren. But see here ; just a moment ! Let me explain Mad. Oh, you can explain it, can you ? I suppose that she has engaged you to join her ''act" as leading man, and you were rehearsing for the part ! Pren. No; but it was something on that order. (Mad. sniffs.) You see, this minister who is here simply has to get hold of two choir singers before tomorrow morning, so to pre- vent his being disappointed, Mr. King persuaded Miss Hill and myself to masquerade as applicants ! So, you see, that explains it all ; very simple ! Mad. Oh, very simple, is it? Well, I think that you're the simple one, to imagine that I'd swallow such a wild tale as that ! MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 53 My goodness ! Masquerading as a choir singer, draped in si briglit red window curtain, and all made up with horrid grease paint ! Ugh ! Pren. Oh, but that was only prompted by Miss Hill's artis- tic temperament, and Mad. And I suppose it was your artistic temperament that prompted the realism of your acting ! Pren. On my word, I never Mad. Oh, I don't want to hear any more of your excuses or explanations ! They're quite useless ! I thought great things of you, and that you were really fine and manly, but I see that I've been entirely mistaken and disappointed. It's all my own fault, of course, for trusting to first impressions ; but now I see things in their true light, and all must be ended be- tween us ! From now on you must never see me or speak to me again ! {She delivers this ultimatum heroically ^ and appears sternly resigned to her fate ; ho iv every she shows no intention of leaving the hated presence. As an accompaniment to her dramatic renunciation, the noise of the mob without has steadily and rapidly increased. Pren., in desperatiouy runs his hands through his hair, and tries again.) Pren. But see here ! I can't let you throw me down ut- terly this way, without letting me defend myself! Won't you honestly believe what I told you? {No answer.) But at least if I can prove to you that all I said was the truth ; that there is absolutely nothing between Miss Hill and myself except the agreement to carry out this deception ? {No answer.) Won't you even tell me that you'll give me this chance? Won't you even answer me ? Well, then, I suppose it's all off ! I'm sorry if I'm bothering you ; I'll beat it I {He starts to go ; turns.) Won't you tell me good-bye ? All right, then. {He turns to go ; at this moment the mob reaches the front of the house , sud- denly grows quiet for an instant, then howls in unison, *' We ivant Prentice / " Pandemonium reigns once more ; the door- bell starts to rins^, and continues to do so ; a fistic assault on the door is heard.) My God ! They've got me ! Mad. What! \^ that you? hx^ you ! Quick! Why are they after you? Didn't you pledge yourself Alpha Psi? Pren. No 1 Because I'd promised my uncle to go Zeta Epsilon ! 54 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Mad. And you never told me ! Pren. I forgot it ! — And now I'm nabbed ! Mad. No, no 1 You mustn't be! They don't know you're here, do they ? Pken. Of course they do ! Oh ! Enter King front R., then Frey, Les., Ignatz, and Ted; Mary enters back L., 'Q^.K., front L. King. What in heaven's name ! (^The French window crashes open, letting in a stream of youths arrayed in sweaters and other rough-house para- phernalia, all whooping wildly. Mary, Mad., and Bar retreat behind table, L. ; Pren., King, Ignatz and Tev take stand by sofa ; Les. shrieks, and throws her arms around Frey's neck; he struggles free.) First Student. We want Prentice ! Where's Prentice ? 2D Stud. Yea ! Here he is ! (Seizes Frey.) All. Wow ! {They form a circle about Frey, and dance around him, howling with unholy joy.) Frey (breaking loose). Oh, I protest ! I protest ! This is most unseemly ! I am the rector of St. Benedict's, Heath- field Parish, and I protest All. Whee ! Ray for the rector ! (They continue as before.) King (interfering). See here ; I refuse to have my guest mistreated ! Get out of here, every one of you ! 1ST Stud. All right. Bill ; but first we want a fellow that's here ! 2D Stud. Yes, where is he ? All. Yes ! Prentice ! We want Prentice ! 1ST Stud. Come on, now ; tell us which of you is Prentice, or we'll wreck the house ! King. I don't see any reason why 1ST Stud. That's all right ; tell us which he is, quick ! All. Yes, yes ! King (stalliftg). Tell me what you want him for KiA. (breaking loose). Shut up! — We want Prentice ! Yea! MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 55 {Thgy crowd forward ; Ted meets them with a hostile pose.) Ted. Say ! What is it youse guys want ? All. Prentice ! Yea, Prentice ! Ted. Youse is sure youse wants him? All. Yes, yes ! Ted. All right ; here I am ! {A moment^ s shout, then dead quiet falls ; two of the husk- iest invaders slip behind Ted.) 1ST Stud. You're Prentice, are you ? (Ted hitches his shoulders and jaw forward, and nods scornfully in the affirmative.) 2D Stud. Oh, you / At him, boys ! {He claps his hands ; the two huskies pinion Ted's arms frofn behind, two others catch up his feet ; bedlafu breaks loose as he is rushed through the crowd to the window. King and Pren. try to go to the rescue, but are driven back by the crowd ; Mary faiiits, to the consternation of Mad. and Bar. ; Les. flings herself at Frey, who re- treats in disorder, she landing in the arms of Ignatz, who supports her, sfniling bla?idly over her shoulder j as the curtain descends rapialy.) ACT III SCENE. — The same. The sound of cheering is still heard faintly in the distance. Mad. stands at the windoWy look- ing out ; Pren. is seated o?i the sofa in an attitude of dejec- tion. After a mometit, Mad. makes an angry gesture, and comes forward. Mad. Oh, I think it's a perfect shame ! I don't see how you could let them do it ! I suppose you feel proud of your- self, allowing another man to be carried off by that howling mob in your place ! Pren. (jvearily^. Oh, yes ! 1 feel proud \ terribly proud ! Happy, too; just like a little lark ! Gee ! Mad. Yes, 1 should think that you would feel that you had done a manly sort of thing ! Pren. (rising). Oh, don't rub it in ! You know I'd have stopped them if I'd had time to think ! He brought it on him- self; I wasn't entirely to blame! Besides, you were there; why didn't you come forward and tell them the truth? Mad. That was not my place. Pken. Yes, it was ! You know most of them ; you told me so ! And they'd have believed you. Mad. But it was Pren. In fact, it looks to me as though you wanted me to escape ! Mad. Really, I don't see why you Pren. And look here ! I thought you said you were never going to speak to me again ! Mad. {starting). Oh, I {Collects herself.) Well, that's not the point now. This isn't on my own account; I'm trying to make you see that you have done a very unworthy thing, and I think that you ought to at least attempt to make some reparation. Pren. But it's done now ! What can I do to help it ? Mad. Go out and tell them who you are ! Pren. But that would be insane ! There's no use giving myself up, because they're bound to soon find out who Strong really is, then they'll let him go ! (Mad. turns her back on him.) Oh, well, then ; if you insist, I'll go ! 56 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 57 {He strides over to the hat-rack and grabs his hat. Mad. clasps her hands delightedly ^ and turfis to watch him. He goes to the window ^ looks out^ claps hat on head, and dashes into the hall.) Mad. Oh ! {She runs up stagCy and calls after him.) Wait ! Wait ! {He reenters suddenly f and she is covered with confusion.) Oh, that is ! Pren. {hanging up hat). You don't want me to go? Is that it? — Isn't it? Mad. {retreating down stage). I mean Well, I thought that perhaps you were right ; that they'll find out that Mr. Strong isn't the man they really want, and then Pren. Then it wasn't for my own sake that you wanted me not to go, but only because of my fine logic ? Mad. {coldly). Exactly \ that was my only reason ! (Pauses.) What other reason would I have ? Pren. I thought that you might have cared enough about me myself to have wished that Mad. Oh, no, indeed, Mr. Prentice, I assure you that I have no personal interest in the affair whatever ! Pren. Why? Then were you just leading me on, bluffing me, during all that long trip ? Just trying to see how much of an idiot you could make me be ? Mad. Not exactly, but Pren. Then Surely you're not serious when you said you were through with me because of — er — what you saw? Mad. Yes. Pren. But the deuce ! That was only a fake ! We were only acting to help Rufe out; it was only a premeditated deception ! Mad. I can hardly believe a story that seems so unlikely, after what I saw ! Pren. But it's true ! Why, Miss Hill herself will tell you Mad. {freezingly). Please do not mention her name to me ! I do not care to be reminded of her existence ! Pren. Why do you say that ? Just because she happens to be an actress Mad. Really, I cannot consent to remain here if you con- tinue on the subject ! I think that you have understood me thoroughly, and there is no further need of prolonging the conversation ! 58 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Pren. Oh, well ! {He slwugs his shoulders, and crosses R. ; Mad. siveeps majestically up stage ^ l., turns at the door, and sees him throw hijnself on the sofa; pauses a moment, then throws a kiss at hitn, and runs off. Pren. grinds his teeth.') Well, I suppose that's nothing to be surprised at, con- sidering how the rest of the evening has progressed ! But oh, damn it all ! Why did this last have to happen ? 1 could have stood all the rest, but Lord ! Isn't there any way to prove that I'm all right? {He pauses.) Let's see ! (Les. enters front R. hastily ; he turns away in disgust.) The deuce ! Les. {going up stage to window). Oh, you can hear them still ! Goodness, I wonder what they're doing to him ? {She looks out.) Pren. {aside). There ! Behold the cause of all my woe I — I wonder if I couldn't get her to help me out? By Jove, I'll tell her the whole story ! {Aloud.) Er — Miss Hill Les. {coming down stage). Yes ? Pren. Miss Hill, I'm sorry to say that I'm in trouble ! Les. What, again ? Pren. Yes, again ; and I thought you might perhaps give me some advice. You see, the young lady I am engaged to unfortunately came into the room just at the termination of our little — er — masquerade, and she — er {He pauses, confused.) Les. Yes? Oh, I see! How /^rfectly lovely! And I suppose she thought we were in dead earnest? Pren. Unfortunately she got that impression, and now she absolutely refuses to even speak to me ! Les. Oh, how perfectly dear ! And now you want me to help you out ? Pren. Yes, that's just it ! But — er — you see, she says that she won't listen to any explanation Les. Not even from me ? Pren. Why, — no ! Les. The horrid thing ! — Then how can I help you ? Pren. Why, I don't know; but, you see, I thought that if she should by accident come across you making love to some- body else, why, she might think that you were — er Les. In the habit of doing it ? Oh, I see ! Won't that be perfectly grand ! And then she'll forgive you and make up ? MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 59 Pren. Exactly ! Les. Simply great ! Now, who shall I begin on? Pren. {delighted^. Oh, anybody at all ! But first let me call Barton. {Rings bell.) He can tell the young lady that Riife wants her in the library, as soon as you get well under way. Les. Fine! {^k^. enters front \..) Suppose I practice on him ? Bar. Yes, sir? Les. {seizing his hands; languishingly). Mr. Barton, do you know, I think you have the sweetest eyes ! Tell me, could you learn to love me ? Bar. {spluttering). Ho, my word ! My word ! Wot would the missis say ? Ho, sir, make 'er stop, sir ! Pren. Oh, beautiful ! I don't think you need any rehears- ing, Miss Hill ! Now, see here, Barton ; you've got to help us out in a little scheme of ours. You must wait here until I give you the signal, then go call the young lady that's staying here, and tell her that Mr. Kmg wants her in the library. See ? Bar. But, sir, really, sir ! Pren. {pushing a bill into his hand). Now, that will be all right; just do as I say ! Bar. Yes, sir ! {He goes up stage.) Pren. Say ! I wish ministers and fiancees were as easy to soothe ! Now to begin ! Les. Who shall it be? Pren. Let's take a chance! {Crosses to door v^.\ bangs on it and shouts. ) Hey ! You, in there ! Now I'll hide, and you do the rest ! {He goes up stage and conceals himself behind window cur- tains with Bar.) Enter Ignatz, front r. Ignatz. Ah, may I make so bold as to ask what is wanted? Les. Oh, Mr. Rogers, you were just the person that I wanted to see ! Ignatz. Ah, indeed? Indeed? Oh, I'm sure you flatter me too much, much too much ! Les. Oh, no, indeed / Do you know, Mr. Rogers, I've felt strangely drawn to you ever since we met? {She goes up to hiniy and lays her hand affectionately on his shoulder.^ 60 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Ignatz {jiuite overcoine). Ah, really ! Really ! My dear Miss Hill, 1 Les. Yes, itideed I And I know what you are going to say ; that you have felt the same eniolion ? Ignatz {eagerly). Yes ! Yes ! Les. I knew it ! Oh, Mr. Rogers, — but may I not call you Ignatz ? Ignatz. My dear lady ! Of course. Of course ! Les. So dear of you ! Come, do let's sit down on the sofa, — Ignatz ! {She draws him down beside her on the sofa; Pren. motions Bar. to go.) Do you know, dear Ignatz, tha I have long felt that I was alone in the world, that I needed a strong arm to protect me ; that if I could find a true knight, a brave man that I could love, — ah, me ! Ignatz. Yes, yes ! Go on ! Les. And then, when I saw you, — Ignatz, —my heart leaped with joy and gladness ! — and I thought, ah, I dreamed ! Ignatz {in great excitement). Yes, yes, dear lady, and your dream shall come true ! My heart aches for you in your loneliness ! Dearest, tell me ; will you be mine ? {He sinks on his knees before her.) Les. {rising; dramatically). Ah, this is too much ! Much too much ! My joy is overflowing ! Ah, my darling ! {She stretches out her anns to him.) Ignatz. Oh-oo ! {Squealing with joy, he stumbles to his feet, and flops into her arms; they stand entwined, he beajning blissfully over shoulder, she signaling frantically to Pren., who is con- vulsed.) Enter Bar., gravely. Bar. Hi'm sorry, sir, but she habsolutely refuses to come. sir Les. {detachinz herself). What ? Well, the nerve of her ! And here I've been mushing all over this soft-shelled peanut ! Pren. Yes, hang it all ! I'm sorry you've wasted your energy, but it can't be helped ! Ignatz {dmtibfounded). Bnt, ray darling — ! Les. Now, Ignatz, that will do ! Run along and roll your hoop ! MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 6 1 Ignatz. Indeed, madame, am 1 to understand that I have been made a mock of? — Then I shall depart at once from this house, never to return ! Les. Gracious, what a blow 1 {He crushes her with a glanccy then stalks up stage and out back R.) Pren. Well, he's gone 1 Now, Barton, you go back and tell the young lady that she's got to come ; that Mrs. King has fainted in the library. See? {^He gives him another bill.) Bar. Yes, sir I {^He goes out back L.) Pren. Now, who next ? Les. I don't know. Perhaps the minister ! Pren. Not in ten million years, unless we handcuff him I {The door front r. opens; Yr'S.y enters.) But speaking of angels Quick, try him, anyway 1 {He conceals himself ; Les. sweeps across the stage.) Les. Oh, your worsliip, do you know, you are just the per- son whom I was looking for ! Frey {nervously, and trying to regain door). Ah I — Really ! — I^ er, — you see, I was only seeking Mr. Rogers ; we were discussing the subject of temperance, when to my great surprise he left the room Les. {getting between him and the door). Yes, indeed! He was called away suddenly on business I But Pm sure you won't mind; you can talk to me instead I You know, I sim- ply love to talk about temperance I Frey. Ah, indeed 1 I would hardly have thought, — er, that is Les. How dear of you 1 Do you know, Mr. Frey, I have felt strangely drawn toward you ever since we met ? {Lays her hand on his shoulder.) Frey {starting violently). Oh, oh! Really, you know, I ! Les. {seizing his hand). Yes, yes ! I know what you are going to say 1 That you have felt the same emotion 1 Frey {pulling away). Oh, oh, oh I Really, I Dear me, I must I Les. Oh, I knew that you had 1 Oh, Mr. Frey,— but may I not call you Ernest ? 62 MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO Frey. Oh, oh ! My dear madame, really, as the rector of St. Benedict's, Healhfield Par Les. That's a dear ! Oh, do let's sit down on the sofa 1 {She drags him down beside her on the sofa ; he looks despair- ingly at the door.) You know, Ernest, I {During the following, she holds him by the lapels of his coat, and cotitinues to talk to him.) Enter Bar. back l. ; Pren. grabs him. Bar. {in a hoarse whisper'). Beg pardon, sir, but the young lady's with Mrs. King 7iow, sir ! Pren. Oh, the devil ! Then tell her that Mr. King has been taken seriously ill, and that Mrs. King mustn't know of it! Bar. Beg pardon, sir, but Mr. King's there, too, sir ! Pren. Oh ! Then tell her there's a reporter here to inter- view her about her trip; tell her anything, only get her here ! Bar. Yes, sir ! {He goes out back l.) Les. Oh, yes ! You know, I always feel so weak, so help- less, so alone and unprotected in the world ! I feel the need of a strong arm around me, and a brave spirit to comfort me ! Frey. Oh, oh ! Really, my dear madame, I am most grieved to hear that, I assure you ! But — but really, much as I regret your position, I cannot see how I can be of any assist- ance except as a spiritual adviser ! Les. Ah, but do you not see ? Have I not said that I felt drawn toward you ; that something seems to tell me that you are the one for whom I have waited so long? {Clasps her arms around his neck.) Ernest, I love you ! Frey {sprijiging up ; wildly). Oh, oh, oh ! Release me, madame, release me ! Oh, this is most unseemly ! Only fancy ! The rector of St. Benedict's, Heathfield Parish, in the embrace of a female woman ! Les. {pursuing him). Yes ! You are my affinity ! Frey {retreating in terror). Affinity ! Oh, oh, oh ! Les. My own true Ruzzielamb ! Frey. Oh, oh ! Les. Dearest, we must be married at once ! Frey. Oh, gracious powers ! Only fancy ! Oh, oh ! The brazen creature ! Oh, my dear madame, surely you cannot be aware of the fact that I am already wed to a most worthy MR. KELLEY FROM KALAMAZOO 63 person, and that I am the faiher of three bouncing children ! Oh, oh ! To think one should ask me to Les. No matter ! All that is nothing to my love ! You must be mine, Ruzzie, my darling ! (^Shg throws her arms around his neck, and tries to kiss him.) Fkey. Oh, oh, oh ! {As he struggles to escape, Mary enters back L., and stands horrified.) Mary (coming forward). Good heavens, what does this mean ? Mr. Frey, release this young woman at once ! Frey. Oh, my dear madame, you come in time ! Mary. Stop I Do not attempt to apologize ! I am shocked that one in your position should conduct himself in such a manner under the roof of one of his friends ! It will be my painful duty to inform Mr. Tetlow on his return that Frey. But, I assure you, I — I was quite helpless, my dear madame ! Only fancy ! She addressed me as her " Ruzzie- lamb," and demanded that I commit bigamy! Oh, it is most — most 1 Les. Oh / You think it is most most, do you ? Well, / think it is most ungallant of you to shove all the blame on a lady ; and I'll have you to understand that I'll call any one I choose my Ruzzielamb I Mary. Yes, Mr. Frey, you display a very ungentlemanly spirit indeed 1 Really, I think it would be better if we with- drew, so as not to cause Miss Hill any further embarrassment ! Frey (eagerly). Oh, my dear madame, I assure you it would be most desirable that we retire, and — er — leave the young lady's presence ! In fact, I entreat you ! Mary. I am glad that you perceive how you have compro- mised yourself. Let us go to the library. I shall see you later. Miss Hill. Frey. Permit me, my dear madame 1 (Zr■ • males, fire females . Costumes, modem ; scenery, all interiors PL ys a full evening. THF PROFI l(lATF Pl^-y in Four Acts deven males, fire females. IUI4 lUUiMUAlLi Scenery, three interiors, rather olaborate ; costumes, modem. Plays a full evening. THE SCHOOLMISTRESS farceim^reeAets.Ninemales,seven females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. TBE SECOND MRS. TANQDERAY ^aCflvHeml,. T^ tumes, modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. SWEET LAVENDER ^**™®^y ^ Three Acts. Seven males, four females. Scene, a single interior; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. THE TIMES ^<^"^®**y ^ F<^"^ ■^<'*'*- six males, seven females. Scene, a single interior ; costumes, modem. Plays a full evening. THE WEAKER SEX ^°°^®^y ^ Three Acts. Eight males, eight females. Costumes, modem ; scenery, two Interiors. Plays a full evening. A WIFE WITflODT A SMILE '^l '",'^r ^\ """ ^ males, four females. Costumes, modem ; seene, a single interior. Plays a fall evening. Sent prepaid on receipt of price by Walttv ^. T5a^tv & Company Ho. 5 Hamilton Place, Bodton^ Massachusetts 1 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 940 044 A Ctje milium Wunn Ctiitton of Paps AS Yftll I WV IT Comedy in Five Acts. Thirteen males, four AiJ lUU I4II1.I4 11 females. Costumes, picturesque ; scenery, va- ried. Plays a full evening. CAMIT 1 F 1^^'^^3, in Five Acts. Nine males, five females. Cos- S^AallLtLiLt tumes, modern ; scenery, varied.. Plays a full evening. INfiOMAR I*^*y ^'^ Five Acts. Thirteen males, three females. ttliUvlTliilV Scenery varied ; costumes, Greek. Plays a full evening. MARY STUART Tragedy in Five Acts. Thirteen males, four fe- iiiiilVl iJlUillil males, and supernumeraries. Costumes, of the ^period , scenery, varied and elaborate. Plays a full evening. THE MERCHANT OF VENICE .'J.XfS^ef i?„X; ^;S^^. (picturesque ; scenery varied. Plays a full evening. ' RirHFT IFIl -^^^y ^^ Five Acts. Fifteen males, two females. Scen- JVlvilL 4„ PARKMILl. & CO.. PRINTERS, iiOSTOM, u.s»..».