3 !\ 4 2 ^ 
 
 n 
 
 WINNOWING 
 
 DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. LULU T. REESE 
 
 COPYRIGHTED 
 
 MEMPHIS, TENNESSEE 
 
 1911 
 

 
 QZID 23471 
 
WINNOWING 
 
 DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS 
 
 BY 
 
 MRS. LULU T. REESE 
 
 CHARACTERS. 
 James K. Polk Nicholas. Tom Gilkoy. 
 
 JosiAH Nicholas. Rose Gilroy, wife of Tom. 
 
 Betsy Nicholas, wife of Josiali. Cakkoll Arxold. 
 
 Malinda Nicholas, daughter of Josiah. Captain Thornton. 
 Amanda, wife of James. Blanche Van Dyke, 
 
 LuciLE, daughter of James, Robert, negro butler. 
 
 Percy Carroll 
 
 TIME: 1870 TO THE PRESENT. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene 1. (A rude log structure located in the rural district of East 
 Tennessee. In the open passage between the two rooms are seated 
 Josiah Nicholas and his wife, Betsy; JosialT in a split-bottom chair 
 tilted against the wall, smoking a cob pipe, which is his constant com- 
 panion. Betsy is busily knitting.) 
 
 Josiah, "Do you know, Betsy, whur thet boy gits them lazy, good- 
 fiir-nothin' ways uf his'n is sumpin I don't onderstand. He never will larn 
 to plow, an' he won't so much as drap the corn right. He's been gone fur 
 more'n a haf hour fur that bucket er water, an' when he gits here it 
 won't be more'n haf full. I did want to make a respectable farmer out'en 
 Jeems K. Polk, but it jist looks like it ain't no use tryin'; he ain't got it 
 in him, an' thet's all thur's to it." 
 
 Betsy. "Well, Josiah, I sumtimes thinks you ain't got 'nougli patience 
 with Jeems K. Polk." 
 
 Josiah. "Patience (looking over his spectacles). Patience! Now, 
 that beats me. Why, I've been thet patient with thet boy, I've lost my 
 own self-respect lots uf times. I says to myself over an'' agin: 'Josiah 
 Nicholas, you're a natural-born fool 'bout thet boy. Why don't you take 
 a strop an' war him out, 'sted'er callin' him out^en bed ever mornin' thet 
 the good Lord sends, an' then a-tellin' an' a-showin' him the same thing 
 over ever blessed day, a-hopin' ever time he'll do better, an' more keerful- 
 like, the same thing he done so neglectful the day afore.' The idea you 
 sirgestin' more patience. The thing he needs, in my opinion, is more 
 onpatience." (Josiah looks indignant and puflPs vigorously on his cob 
 pipe.) 
 
 Betsy. "I ain't a-blamin' you for Jeems K. Polk's shiftless ways, 
 Josiah. You ain't no more to blame fur 'em then I is. But thur may be 
 more in him then we think fur. The farm ain't suiten' to his natur' an' 
 
he mought do better sumwhur else, a-workin' at sumfin more fitten to 
 him." 
 
 JosiAH. "What! you got thet notion in your head, too? Lettin' him 
 go way frum home to new j^arts?" 
 
 Betsy. "Now, let me git through afore you begin to argerfy. It's 
 just as hard an' harder on me to give him up as it is on you. He's all 
 the boy we've got, an' we're gittin' old. You an' me didn't begin life as 
 soon as sum folks, an' both them chillun is chillun uf our old age. An' 
 that's one reason we're so oncommon foolish 'bout 'm. I know jist how 
 hard we've worked an' stinted to git this land paid fur, a-hopin' all the 
 time to make a good farmer out'en Jeems K. Polk. But seein' he ain't 
 a-takin' to our way o' thinkin' 'bout hisself, s'possen we try his'n an' let 
 him see sumpin ' uf the world ? Tliur ain't no tellin', he mought be cut 
 out fur sumpin great. I hev hearn that Andy Jackson an' Aby Lincoln 
 both ixv 'em wus jist as onlikely boys as he is." 
 
 JosiAH. "Well, here he comes now, santerin' 'long, swingin' thet 
 bucket an' chawin' them straws, with that onsatisfied, hankerin' look on 
 his face." (Calling to James, who is on the outside) : "Jeems K. Polk, 
 Avhy don't you come on here with thet bucket o' water? I'm dryer'n a 
 powder horn, an' you air jist a-foolin' 'long chawin' straws like a ox." 
 
 James (from the outside). "I'm a-comin', pa. I didn't know you 
 wus in a hurry." (Enter James, a tall, awkward, well-built young boy, 
 in whose expression there is more than average intellect. In his manner 
 a restlessness born of discontent. He places the bucket of water on a 
 side shelf.) 
 
 JosiAH. "I reckon if I wus in a hurry I'd hev to go an' fetch it 
 myself." 
 
 James. "Say, Pa, I've jist been wonderin' why you didn't build this 
 house down by the spring anyhow, then 'sted o' totin' water fur a quarter 
 o' mile, you could jist step out an' hev it handy." 
 
 JosiAH. "Thet's jist like you, Jeems K. Polk. You air alius' wantin' 
 things handy 'stid 'er workin' fur 'em. I'd like to know how we could 
 see the folks a-goin' 'long the big road if we'd a-put the house down by 
 the spring, an' your Ma an' me thought we'd ruther hev sum society 
 then so much convenience. Now, you'd never thought uv that till it wus 
 too late." (After drinking from the old-fashioned gourd to his satisfac- 
 tion, the old man dries his mouth on his blue cotton sleeve, relights his 
 pipe and resumes his seat. James has seated himself on the edge of the 
 floor of the passage, with his long legs, encased in their homespun cotton 
 trousers, dangling in a most ungainly fashion from side to side. All the 
 while Betsy continues knitting.) 
 
 James. "Say, Pa, what you got to say 'bout lettin' me go to West- 
 morelan' to work in the company's big store?" 
 
 JosiAH. "Well, Jeems K. Polk, we've been a-talkin', your Ma an' me, 
 'bout lettin' you hev your way, an' we've 'bout made up our minds to let 
 you go an' look 'bout an' see if you reckon if you can do better then a- 
 farmin'. I'll be bound you'll git 'nough an' be powerful glad to git back. 
 A little homesickness is svuntimes good fur a fellow. I've knowd 'em to 
 come home clean beat out by it." 
 
 Betst. "Hush, here comes Lindy. You'll hev to break it to her 
 gentle, fur she's plum set agin it." 
 
 (Enter Malinda, a pretty coimtry girl. In her hand she has a bucket 
 of fresh gathered potatoes, which she places on the floor, taking her seat 
 in a chair.) 
 
 ^Malinda. "Say, Pa, when I went out to dig them potatoes I found 
 the old brindle cow in the garden jist raisin' Cain. Sum of you'ns bed lef 
 the gate open, an' she tuck it fur a invite to tar up things in general." 
 
 2 — Winnowing 
 
Betsy (looking up from her knitting). '"'Jeems K. Polk, I'll be 
 bound you lef that gate open when I sent you to git them cabbages." 
 
 Malinda. "I reckon he did; he alius does. He's jist 'bout as fit'n 
 fur farmin' as that old brindle herself." (fehe begins peeling the potatoes 
 with much energy.) , 
 
 Betsy. "Lindy, don't be too hard on Jeems K. Polk; you mought be 
 sorry some day." 
 
 Malinda. "La, Ma, you talks like Jeems K. had a notion of dying." 
 
 JosiAH (removing' his pipe). "Lindy, you ain't hearn, has you, as 
 how Jeems K. Polk were goin' away?" 
 
 Malinda (looking vip in astonishment). "Goin' whur?" 
 
 JosiAH. "To Westmorelan'." 
 
 Malinda. "Whut fur?" 
 
 JosiAH (with much sadness in his voice). "Your Ma and me- has at 
 last come round to his way uf lookin' at things. An' now he's goin'." 
 
 Malinda (turning to James). "Jeems K., air you in earnest? I 
 thought you wus jist a-talking to plague me when you kep on sayin' so 
 much 'bout goin' away. I didn't think you'd hev the heart to do it. 
 Who's goin' to help Pa an' him a-gettin' old? Who's goin' to tote the 
 wood an' water, an' all sich? You wouldn't a got no sich notion in your 
 head if you hadn't 'a kep on a-goin' over to Westmorelan' so much lately 
 with that Billy Jones, sayin' you wus larnin' to trade. You wus jist 
 a-hangin' 'round with them fellows, what thinks they knows so much, jist 
 'cause they war' store-bought clothes an' biled shirts ever' day in the week. 
 I tole Pa all the time it were a-spiling you — an' now it's done come out." 
 
 James. "Lindy, I'm mosten a man; I'm seventeen year old." 
 
 Malinda (impatiently). "You ain't but one year older'n me." 
 
 James. "Shucks, yoii're a gal, an' gals don't count." 
 
 Malinda. "I reckon they counts fur 'nough to do more work 'round 
 this here place than you does." 
 
 James. "I want to make sumpin out'n myself. I hearn one uf the 
 biggest men in Westmorelan' tellin' as how he come to town not knowin 
 nothin', an' he jist went to work an' made a man out'n hisself. I'm goin' 
 to do jist like that big man said he done. I'm going to work in the day- 
 time an' git somebody to larn me at night." 
 
 Malinda (sarcasticalh') • ''i'd like to know hoAv you air going to 
 live without sleepin'." 
 
 James. "Shucks, Lindy, folks don't go to bed afore dark in town." 
 
 Malinda. "No, an' they don't git up in the mornin', nuther. When 
 them city folks wus a-campin' up there in the hollow, an' I took 'em butter 
 an' milk long 'bout seven o'clock, they wus jist a-gittin' up, an talkin' 
 'bout it bein' early, when I'd done a good day's work afore goin'. You'll 
 jist drap into them lazy, good-fur-nuthin' ways, fur you ain't none too 
 fond uf Avork nohow." (Peels jDotatoes with increased energy.) 
 
 James. "I reckon I kin hold my own. Billy Jones says I'm a natural- 
 born trader, an' kin beat him any day, an' Pa knows I got more fur them 
 cows an' pigs then he thought fur." 
 
 Malinda. "I'd like to know what you air countin' on doin' when you 
 gifc to Westmorelan'." 
 
 James. "Dr. Watson says he'll git me a job in the company's big store, 
 an' says I kin work my way up." 
 
 Malinda (with contempt). "Or down." 
 
 JosiAH. "Tut, tut, Lindy. Jeems K. Polk has been a good son an' 
 brother 'ceptin' he ain't cut out fur a farmer. An' likely it ain't no fault uf 
 his'n. He's goin' away now an' we'll miss him, you an' your Ma an' me. 
 But if he makes a man out'n hisself we'll be proud an' glad he went. But, 
 
 Winno^vinq — 3 
 
Jeems K. Polk, if you come home to us in disgrace an' shame you'll break 
 our hearts." 
 
 James (with pride) . "Pa, I mean to come back some day a rich man." 
 
 Betsy. "Jeems K. Polk, my boy, don't set your heart too much on 
 gittin' rich. Be a great man if you kin, but whatever you do be a good'n. 
 Don't never do nothin' thet you'd be 'shamed fur your Pa an' Lindy an' 
 me to know 'bout. Don't never try to git the best uf nobody in a trade. Do 
 jist what's squar an' hones', an' if you can't git rich bein' fa'r an' hones', 
 jist be satisfied bein' pore but hones'." 
 
 JosiAH. "An, Jeems K. Polk, jist alius remember what the preacher 
 tole us 'bout them circus people bein' the sorcerers, in the Bible, an' the 
 audiences bein' the idolaters, what avus burned in a lake uf fire an' brim- 
 stone. An' you stay 'way frum circurses an' all sieh places. An' don't you 
 go runnin' off after none of them Sasserresses. An' don't you go an' git 
 mixed up with none of them adulterers; jist remember thur's a lake uf 
 fire an' brimstone awaitin' fur all sich." 
 
 James. "Pa, don't you know the powerfulest thing in the world is 
 money? Why, them rich men over there in Westmorelan' does things whut 
 we'ns would be slapped in jail for. They ain't skeered uf the law. Why, 
 the jedge hissef is skeered uf them. Why, I hearn one uf the fellows tellin' 
 as how when one uf them big rich men wanted somethin' done, he jist got 
 on the train an' went an' tole the Gov'nor hissef what to do. An' the 
 Gov'nor jist done it. An' one uf 'em went to Washin'ton an' tole the Prisi- 
 dent who to p'int postmaster, an' the Prisident he p'inted him." 
 
 Malinda. "Well, if you ain't got no more sense then to believe all 
 thet, you'd better stay to home, fur sho' as you're born if you air thet 
 green when you gits to town the cows'll eat you up." 
 
 James. "It's you what's green not to know whut money does fur 
 folks. I've seen 'nough to know thet money's the all-powerfulest thing in 
 the world." 
 
 Betsy. "Jeems K. Polk, the Bible says it's harder fur a rich man to 
 git to heaven then it is fur a camel to git through the eye uf a needle. 
 Jedgin' from thet there won't be many rich folks up there." 
 
 Malinda. "I reckon Jeems K. thinks all they's got to do is to walk 
 up an' tell God A'mighty thet they's got money, an' God A'mighty will jist 
 take off His hat to 'em." 
 
 Betsy. "Lindy, thur ain't no use uf all thet sputyfyin'. We'ns hed 
 better go put on dinner." (Rolling up her knitting.) 
 
 Malinda. "All right. Ma; these potatoes is ready." (Taking up the 
 bucket. Exit Malinda and Betsy.) 
 
 JosiAH (knocking the ashes out of his pipe). "Well, I reckon I'll go 
 and feed the criters." Exit Josiah. 
 
 James. "They don't know nothin' 'bout life 'cept farmin'. I know 
 you can't be nothin' an' nobody if you ain't got money. An' I'm going (o 
 make money,, an' I'm goin' to be sumpin." 
 
 4 — Winnowing 
 
ACT II. 
 
 Thirty Years Later. Present Time. 
 
 Scene 1. (A handsomely furnished living room in the city home of James 
 Nicholas, who has grown immensely rich and is living in great splendor, 
 with his wife, Amanda, and only child, Lucile, who is just entering 
 young womanhood. Amanda, a woman of forty-five or a little more, is 
 walking the floor in a state of suppressed anger. Enter James.) 
 
 Amanda. "James, that sister of your has taken it into her head to 
 make us a visit. Think of it, and just at this time, too. We will be the 
 laughing stock of the whole city." 
 
 James (in blank astonishment). "Malinda coming to see us? Why, 
 in all these years she has never seemed to have had any desire to do so. 
 What do you suppose could have put such a notion in her head?" 
 
 Amanda. "Lucile, of course. She has been corresponding with her 
 constantly from abroad and since her return. And this morning she re- 
 ceived a letter saying Malinda was coming. And Lucile has gone to the 
 station to meet her. Oh, it is too much." 
 
 James. "Gone to meet her? Then she is in town by this time, and 
 will be here in a few minutes." 
 
 Amanda. "Yes, at any moment, and what on earth are we going to 
 do with Malinda day after tomorrow at Lucile's debut party, when the 
 whole fashionable world is to be here? I told you years ago it was a 
 great mistake to allow Lucile to keep in touch with Malinda. She could 
 so easily have been kept away from that farm life, and now she would 
 know nothing of your early surroundings, and Malinda would not be thrust- 
 ing herself on us." 
 
 James. "Amanda, I regret her coming as much as you possibly can. 
 But what are we going to do that she has come without warning?" 
 
 Amanda. "What are we going to do? That is just like a man. You 
 have got to manage in some way to keep her in the background." 
 
 James. "Oh, Lord! You don't know Malinda." 
 
 (Enter Lucile, accompanied by Malinda, who is dressed in a provincial 
 costume, including a woollen shawl and poke-bonnet. Malinda is carrying 
 carefully an old-time carpet bag. Lucile has in her hands a basket and a 
 cotton umbrella. Malinda, who is gazing in utter astonishment at the 
 grandeur of her surroundings, steps on to the highly polished floor, when 
 her feet go from under her and she comes down with a thud on top of the 
 carpet bag. The negro butler rushes from the hall, and, aided by Lucile, 
 assists her to her feet, while James and Amanda stand looking on in utter 
 disgust. As Malinda gains her feet she looks ruefully at her carpet bag, 
 which the butler is picking up.) 
 
 Lucile (evincing great concern). "Aunt Lindy, did it hurt you? 
 Robert has polished this floor until no one will be able to stand on it. 
 
 Malinda. "No, child, I ain't hurt; jist skeered a little; but it sarved 
 me right. I had'n ought'r put them eggs in that bag. And jist to think, 
 my neio bonnet is in there on top up 'em, or 1 should say now all mixed 
 up in 'em." 
 
 Lucile t sympathetically ) . "Oh, that's too bad, but don't you worry. 
 We can get another bonnet easily." (Turning to James.) "Father, here is 
 Aunt Lindy." 
 
 James ( coming forward in a perfunctory manner ) . "Malinda, this 
 is indeed a surprise." 
 
 Winnowing — 5 
 
Malinda (throwing her arms about his neck, Ivissing him with much 
 feeling). "Yes, Jeems K., I though I'd take you by surprise. LaAV, Jeems K., 
 how you hev changed. Why, I wouldnt 've 'a knowed you. Yoti air a real 
 good-lookin' man. An' you look like you might be a great one, jist like a 
 United States Senitor, what I saw not long 'go in Westmorelan'." 
 
 (In the meanwhile, Lucile has moved around to Amanda, to whom she 
 speaks in an aside.) 
 
 Lucile. "Mother, you must receive her kindly." 
 
 Amanda (with a toss of her head advances). "How do you do, Ma- 
 linda?" (extending her hand and in a most formal manner shakes hands). 
 
 Malinda (somewhat abashed). "Well, howdy, Mandy. I reckon kissin' 
 is gone out of fashion these days." 
 
 Lucile. "Now, let me take your bonnet and shawl. Aunt Lindy (unty- 
 ing the bonnet and removing it, also the shawl ) . I have ordered some lunch 
 brought in here for you." 
 
 (In the meanwhile Amanda had taken a seat and picked up some 
 fancy work and James had thrown himself into a chair, looking uncom- 
 fortable. ) 
 
 Malinda. "No, thank you; I'll wait for dinner. It must be nigh 
 twelve o'clock." 
 
 Lucile. "But we do not have dinner until night" (as she removes her 
 own hat and coat ) . 
 
 Malinda (in astonishment). "Dinner at night! Then go to bed on 
 a full stomach? No wonder you all look so down in the mouth. It's indi- 
 gestion; that's what it is" (as she takes a seat). 
 
 Amanda (with an effort). "Did you have a pleasant trip, Malinda?" 
 
 Malinda. "Oh, ye's, pretty fair, considering I was cramped up on a 
 railroad train for six mortal hours." 
 
 James. "What is Billy doing with himself these days." 
 
 Malinda. "Ain't you hear'ed that Billy was a-running for a canidate 
 for the Legislature? Yes, he's running, and he's going to get 'lected, too, 
 for you know Billy's a pretty shifty sort of a fellow, and when he sets 
 his head to a thing there ain't no stoppin' him." 
 
 James. "What does he w^ant to go to the Legislature for?" 
 
 Malinda. "Well, Billy's got the notion in his head that he's cut out 
 for somethin' great. Why, do you know Billy's a nateral-born oritator; 
 an' his public prayers air the administration of the whole coimtry. Why, 
 Billy says so hisself. An', Jeems K., you know Billy give you your first 
 lessons in tradin', an' him it was that put you on the road to prostitution ; 
 an' if the truth was tole, Jeems K., you owe every cent of yoru- indebted- 
 ness to Billy" (said with great unction). 
 
 Lucile. "And if Uncle Billy is elected. Aunt Lindy, will you come 
 to the city while the Legislature is in session?" 
 
 Malinda. "To be sure. You don't think I am goin' to desert Billy 
 just 'cause he's got mixed up in politicks, do you? No, I took Billy fur 
 better or worse, and I mean to stick to him." 
 
 Lucile. "I am afraid you think politics rather demoralizing." 
 . Malinda. "Well, I know men in politicks an' out o' 'em, an' they are 
 a pretty skitish set, an' it won't do to give 'em too much rope; if you do 
 they are dead sure to hang theyselves. Why, Billy Avent over to Chat- 
 tanooga to a convention meetin', an' he come home with a bright red cravat 
 an' a big checked vest on. An' I jist tole him that whenever a man of his 
 age got to warin' them kind of close, you'd better watch him. I said it in 
 fun like, an' Billy semed to think it was a good joke. But sure as you air 
 born, them's the signs. An' when a man gits 'em you'd better put on the 
 
 6 — Winnowing 
 
bridle, fur whenever an old family horse runs 'way he don't never stop 
 'till he tears things up." 
 
 LuciLE. "Which, Aunt Lindy, the man or the horse?" 
 
 Malinda. "Both o' 'em. And I ain't goin' to let Billy git away 
 
 from me. I see too much o' this effinity business in the papers to 
 
 suit me." 
 
 LuciLE. "Then you take the papers?" 
 
 MALiJNfDA. "Oh, yes. Billy is some educated, you know, an' he's great 
 on readin'. An' awful proud of hearin' hisself read aloud. 'An' he prac- 
 tices all the time on me. An' when I am too busy, the old black cat seems 
 to answer the purpose. An' really, Billy has learnt me a lot. Do you 
 know, I used to make some awful blunders in talkin', but Billy alius kirects 
 me, an' I'm glad uf it. But I do git somewhat put out sometimes when I'm 
 in a hurry to tell a thing and he stops me to make me git my language 
 right. Billy, he's a terrable fellow on languages. He set up o' nights 
 studying the blue-back speller, an' the dictionary. But, Lucile, you ain't 
 tole me a thing 'bout your party. Law, what a pitty I broke 'all th«n 
 fresh eggs. They would'v come in so handy." 
 
 Lucile. "Oh, it is just to be a big affair with all of father's and 
 mother's friends and acquaintances invited, to whom I am expected to 
 make my social bow." 
 
 Malinda. "Well, don't think you air going to be shamed of me. I 
 went over to Westmorelan' an' had a brand-new black silk dress made. I 
 ain't had it on yet, but it's powerful fine looking. Nothin' would do Billy 
 but that I had to have jist as good as anybody. An' he said it would come 
 in handy when loe go to the Legislater." 
 
 James (rising). "Well, Malinda, I will see you later. I must be 
 going to my office." 
 
 Malinda. "You ain't goin' to work in them close, air you? Why, 
 you're dressed up like you're going to a funeral." 
 
 James. "My work, you know, is with my head. I do not have to 
 soil my clothes," 
 
 Malikda. "Well, it seems to hev been pretty profitable, jedgin' from 
 the looks o' things." 
 
 James. "Yes, Malinda, I have made something of a success in life." 
 Malixda. "Well, Jeems K., I'm glad to see it. An' I'm proud of 
 you. I never would hev believed it. When you left home you was 'bout as 
 onlikely a fellow as I ever saw. But Ma alius believed you was cut out 
 for somethin' different from what you was. An' Ma was pretty nigh alius 
 right." 
 
 James (turning to his wife). "Amanda, I should like to see j^ou pri- 
 vately for a few moments." (Exit James and Amanda, by a side door. At 
 the same time, a man between sixty and sixty-five appears at the hall door, 
 unannounced. On his once handsome face there are the traces of dissipa- 
 tion. His bearing is that of the well-bred man of the world.) 
 
 Lucile (advancing to meet him as he steps into the room) . "Oh, Cousin 
 William, I am so glad to see you." 
 
 The Captain. "And I you, little 07ie" (taking her hand and kissing 
 it with old-time gallantry). "I came especially to take a look at yovi. 
 Stand off and let me take you in. The same locks, around which the sun- 
 beams play hide and seek. The same merry twinkle in your eye, which 
 sets even an old man's heart in motion, turning his brain topsy-turvy, mak- 
 ing him do and say foolish things. jSTow come nearer" (taking her face be- 
 tween his hands and looking earnestly into her eyes). "Let me look into the 
 windows of your soul. Ah ! the same pure fountain. Keep it so, my child ; 
 keep it so" (the last sentence said with much feeling). 
 
 Lucile. "My, how serious you have grown. Come, be your own gay, 
 
 Wmnoiving — 7 
 
original self; anybody can be serious. I want you to meet Aunt Lindy." 
 ( Turning to Malinda. ) "Aunt Linda, this is Caj^tain Thornton, the Cousin 
 William whom I used to quote so frequently." 
 
 (The Captain and Malinda shake hands cordially.) 
 
 Captain. "Mrs. Jones, I am delighted to meet you, whom I feel I have 
 known for many years through Lucile." 
 
 Malinda. "It looks like I ought to hev knowed you afore, being as 
 you air Lucile's cousin, and I'm her nateral aunt." 
 
 The Captain. "And I know we shall be friends, which is but nat- 
 ural, as we belong to the same family and have to begin with one subject, 
 on which we will agree, Lucile, for I know you love her." 
 
 Malinda. "Love her? Well, I should say I do. Why, that's what's 
 brought me here now, an' I 'left my old man to home runnin' fur a canidate 
 fur the Legislater." 
 
 The Captain. "So your husband is a politician?" 
 
 Malinda. "Well, he's a canidate." 
 
 (The butler appears with tray ladened with eatables and places it on 
 the large table at one side of the stage. Then withdraws.) 
 
 Lucile. "Come, Cousin William, and join Aunt Lindy at lunch. I 
 shall do the honors. You know Aunt Lindy has just arrived and must be 
 nearly starved by this time." 
 
 (They all three move up to the table.) 
 
 Malinda. "Lucile, me an' the Captain is both home folks. We could 
 jist hev gone to the kitchen an' got a bite to eat 'stid o' puttin' on all this 
 style." 
 
 Captain. "Lucile is training that fancy negro, Mrs. Jones, and you 
 and I* are good material for her to practice on." 
 
 Malinda (as Lucile is serving them from the tray). "Is thet so? 
 Well, she's got that nigger so dressed up I don't see how he's goin' to 'tend 
 to his business. Onct I tried that on Sam, our nigger, to home. You know 
 he works on the farm. Billy had invited some of the canidates who was 
 a-speakin' in Crabapple Coimty, to our house to dinner. We had jist fin- 
 ished the new house, an' Billy was powerful proud of it. Billy said it 
 wouldn't never do for me to wait on 'em at table. So we dressed Sam up 
 in Billy's old close. They was some too big, bein' as Billy weighs nigh 
 two hundred an' fifty pounds, an' Sam is a little nigger. But I thought the 
 folk's have their backs to Sam. Your friend, Mr. Carroll, was a-stayin' to 
 our house then, Lucile, an' he was awful polite, for when that nigger bumpted 
 into his back, with the hot coffee pot, an' it run down his back, spilin' his 
 ■ collar, he jumped a little, but never said a word. An' Jedge Simpkins ( he's 
 a show 'nough jedge from Westmorelan' ) , when that nigger spilt the whole 
 dish of turnip greens in his lap, he jist laughed like it was a joke. Billy 
 says he's a show 'nough politican, too." (Lucile and the Captain are 
 laughing very heartily. When the butler announces Mr. Carroll, Lucile 
 leaves the Captain and Malinda eating and talking, as she advances to 
 meet Percy.) 
 
 Percy (with liand extended and a cordial smile on his face). "Well, 
 how goes America with a young woman who has been around the world, 
 seen the crowned heads of Europe, explored its old castles, and dreamed 
 dreams, no doubt, of buying one of them along' with its impoverished 
 owner ?" 
 
 Lucile. "To a young woman who has not been cursed with hallucina- 
 tions, which you dignify as dreams, America is still the greatest country 
 in the world, and America's noblemen greater than kings." 
 
 Percy. "Bravo! The same independent, well-balanced young woman 
 foreshadowed in the red-headed, self-willed child." 
 
 8 — Winnowing 
 
LuciLE. "Will, you never forget that my head is red and my tem- 
 per flerj^ ?" 
 
 Peecy (laughing). "Oh, I beg pardon. I forgot how sensitive you used 
 to be about your red hair." 
 
 LuciLE. "Yes, and still am. But here is Aunt Lindy" (as they turn 
 to Malinda and the Captain) "from whom I have just learned that you and 
 she are old acquaintances." 
 
 Percy (going up to Malinda with the air of an old friend). "Well, 
 Aunt Lindy, this is indeed an unexpected pleasure." 
 
 Malinda (rising with her mouth full of bread, takes Percy's hand). 
 " Ton— my— word, Per-ey Car-roll— the sight o' you is good for the sore 
 eyes. And you ain't got married yet?" 
 
 Percy. "No, Aunt Linda, I have not found a woman yet who will 
 agree to spoil me as you do Uncle Billy." 
 
 Malinda. "Oh, go long with your foolishness. Didn't I tell you 
 you'd lived single long 'nough, and if you didn't look out you'd git sot in 
 your ways?" 
 
 The Captain. "That is good advice, Percy; you'd better take it." 
 
 (The butler announces Mr. and Mrs. Gilroy. Enter Tom and Rose 
 Gilroy.) 
 
 Rose. "How is everybody?" 
 . Tom. "Everybody here present seems to be having a good time." 
 
 LuciLE. "Only needing you two to make the occasion complete. Let 
 me introduce to you my aunt, Mrs. Jones. Aunt Lindy, these are my 
 friends, Mr. and Mrs. Gilroy. 
 
 Malinda. "Proud to know you. Lucile's friends air all'us my friends." 
 (They shake hands.) 
 
 Rose. "]\Irs. Jones, I feel that I have known you always, through 
 Lucile and IMr. Carroll, but did not know- you were here. Wlien did you 
 come ?" 
 
 jMalinda. "Jist lit 'bout a hour ago. Jist been having a snack. Won't 
 you have some?" 
 
 Rose (suppressing a smile). "Thank you, no; we have just lunched." 
 Tom. "How did you leave Mr. Jones? I understand he is going to 
 
 be elected to our next Legislature." 
 
 Malinda. "Billy's pretty jjeart, an' he says he's shore to git there." 
 The Captain. "Mrs. Jones, how does your husband stand on the 
 
 tariff question?" 
 
 Malinda. "Billy says he's for paying' the clurned thing off, an' bein' 
 done Avith it." 
 
 (Malinda, Percy and the Captain move off to the side of the stage, 
 laughing and talking.) 
 
 Rose. "Lucile, has Blanche Van Dyke been here ? She left me more 
 than an hour ago, with the excuse that she was coming to call on you." 
 
 Lucile. "No, I have not seen her." 
 
 Rose. "Have you ever met Blanche?" 
 
 Lucile. "Not since I was a child. I thought then she was the most 
 beautiful woman I ever saw. Is she still so beautiful?" 
 
 Tom (enthusiastically). "Yes, more so than ever. When she mar- 
 ried that army officer and left here she was just a pretty girl. Now she 
 comes back a howlingly beautiful widow." 
 
 The Captain (from the side). "Who is this beauty you are howl- 
 ing over, Tom?" 
 
 Lucile. "Come, Cousin William, and tell us what you think of Mrs. 
 Van Dyke over whom Mr. Gilroy is growing eloquent." 
 
 Winnowing — 9 
 
EosE. "Yes, liowlingly so." 
 
 Malinda. "Lucile, I'm goiii' to step out an' take a look at the ohserv- 
 atory room, to see your flowers." 
 
 LuciLE. "Very well, Aunt Lindy, make yourself at home." (Exit Ma- 
 linda. ) "jSTow, Cousin William, we are waiting for your opinion, for you 
 are a judge of beauty." 
 
 Captain. "Now, there is a beauty for you. And no mistake about it. 
 The kind of beauty which drives men crazy. I can Avell imagine that Helen 
 of Troy looked like this when she turned the head of young Paris, cap- 
 tivated the whole of Troy and plunged nations into nine years of war. 
 There is a dream in her eye, fascination in lier smile, the ineffable charm 
 of poetry itself in her movements." 
 
 (Enter Blanche and James.) 
 
 Blanche. "Oh, Captain, who is this unusual creature who has 
 aAvakened in you a memory of the classics and the poet ? Was she a daugh- 
 ter of the gods, divinely tall and most divinely fair?" 
 
 The Captain. "Yes, and her loveliness has frozen my swift speech 
 with shame and surprise. She has great beauty. Ask thou not her name; 
 but may she not be like the other, over whom men drew swords and died, 
 for wherever, she went she carried calamity." 
 
 Blanche (laughingly). "Well, Captain, fortunately the day when 
 men draw swords over women is past. In this day and time one pretty 
 face soon drives out the memory of another." 
 
 Lucile (advancing). "Mrs. Van Dyke, I am glad to see you." 
 
 Blanche (extending her hand). "And this is Lucile, whom I have 
 not seen since she was a little girl, with very original ideas, and a will 
 of her own. And I dare say she does not remember me at all." 
 
 Lucile. "Indeed, I do, and I can recall just how you looked, and the 
 dream of my childish heart was to look and be like you. My favorite dolls 
 were called Blanche Clark." 
 
 Blanche. "Oh, how interesting. That was genuine admiration." 
 
 Percy. "Yes, Mrs. Van Dyke, you might call that demonstrated ad- 
 miration." 
 
 (In the meantime James has been shaking hands cordially with all 
 present except the Captain, whom he treats with great indifference. As 
 James turns to rejoin Blanche.) 
 
 Blanche. "Do you know, Mr. Nicholas, I have found a former ad- 
 mirer in your charming daughter?" 
 
 James. "How can she help it, Madam? None of us can resist your 
 fascination." 
 
 Blanche (moving off with him). "Oh, you flatterer." 
 
 James. "The truth is never flattery." (As they go over to the 
 table on which wine and liquors are standing. James serves Blanche and 
 helps himself. They remain thus talking.) 
 
 Rose (enthusiastically). "Lucile, day after tomorrow, the day of 
 the party, is almost here. Do tell us what you are going to wear. I know 
 you will look dazzlingly beautiful in whatever it is." 
 
 Lucile. "It's just a simple little white dress." 
 
 BoSE. "A simple little white dress? I know it's a Parisian creation, 
 and I am dying to see it." 
 
 Lucile. "And you shall. Here comes mother." 
 
 (Enter Amanda in stately dignity, greeting each guest.) 
 
 Amanda. "Well, Percy, I am delighted to see you once more. Mr. 
 Gilroy, and Rose, my dear, how are you both? Mrs. Van Dyke (with a 
 most formal bow, as Blanche moves towards her). And, William, where 
 have you been keeping yourself lately ?" 
 
 10 r— Winnowing 
 
 'Jm.. 
 
Blanche. "Oh, Mrs. Nicholas, I have just been telling your husband 
 how delighted and flattered I am at finding in this very charming daughter 
 of yours an admirer. She tells me — " 
 
 Amanda (cutting her short, with a significant look at James). "In- 
 deed, it must run in the family." 
 
 Blanche (laughing, but somewhat abashed). "I hope so." 
 
 Rose (aside to Percy). "Things are getting warm. We had better 
 be going." 
 
 LuciLE ( as if to make amends ) . "Yes, Mrs. Van Dyke, when I called 
 my dolls for you I thought you were perfect, but T realize now that you 
 have improved upon your then irresistible charm both of manner and 
 appearance." 
 
 Blanche. "Thank you, my dear; a woman always appreciates a com- 
 pliment from another woman more than one from a man." 
 
 Rose. "Really, we must be going. I have an appointment, and, 
 Blanche, I know you have." 
 
 Blanche. "Yes, I am late now, as usual." 
 
 The Captain (in an aside to Blanche). "Look out, young woman; 
 you are on dangerous ground." 
 
 (All say good-byes and leave the stage, laughing and talking. James 
 and Amanda alone.) 
 
 James (angrily). "AVhat did you mean by your rudeness to Mrs. Van 
 Dyke? Why, you were absolutely insulting, and in your own home." 
 
 Amanda (equally angry). "Well, I meant to. be insulting. Do yoii 
 think I am going to be fool enough to allow any woman to come into my 
 house and flirt with my husband right under my nose, without resenting 
 it? No, too many men are finding their affinities these days. Old fools 
 who have lived with their wives for twenty or twenty-five years are be- 
 ginning to find out that they have just for the first time met an affinity. A 
 soul that understands their souls." 
 
 James. "Amanda, you are crazy. I was simply polite to Mrs. Van 
 Dyke, who was a guest in the house." 
 
 Amanda. "I suppose you have just been being polite to her for the 
 last six months, calling on her at the hotel and riding out in her auto, 
 and dangling at her beck and call, making a fool of yourself in general." 
 
 James. "Who's been telling you all this stuff and nonsense?" 
 
 Amanda. "No one has been telling me anything. Do you suppose I 
 am such an idiot that I have to be told what everybody sees?" 
 
 James. "What everybody sees?" 
 
 Amanda. '^Yes, this woman, with her wiles and strategy, is making 
 a complete fool of you. Now, let me tell you once for all. When I mar- 
 ried you I gave up an untarnished name, and I am not going to allow you 
 to trail in the dust and mire the one borne by my daughter. But Blanche 
 Van Dyke is not troubling me half as much as Malinda. I can get rid of 
 Blanche, but what are you going to do with Malinda?" 
 
 James (dropping into a chair). "The Lord only knows." 
 
 Winnoiving — 11 
 
ACT III. 
 
 Scene. (Library in the Nicholas home. The night of the ball. Percy 
 Carroll and the Captain in evening dress.) 
 
 Percy. "I came early and have just seen Lucile to tell her I have 
 taken the liberty of bringing here tonight an uninvited guest." 
 
 Captain. "I am sure any friend of yours will be welcome. But who 
 is it?" 
 
 Percy. "A young man who has come to me under rather peculiar cir- 
 cumstances. It is a long story, Captain. Years ago, when I was a very 
 young child, my father and mother had a friend who was as dear to 
 them as an older brother. He nursed them through yellow fever and saved 
 their lives, for he was a physician; but to them he became nurse also. He 
 lived on his plantation, down in Louisiana, which adjoined my father's. 
 Shortly after my. father's recovery Dr. Watson left Louisiana and came 
 somewhere here in Middle Tennessee, bringing with him a little grand- 
 daughter, all he had left in the Avorld, for his Avife and the parents of the 
 infant had been swept away by the same scourge that came so nearly 
 depriving me of my loved ones. Finally the old doctor drifted to Europe 
 with the young girl, and my father lost sight of them. This young fellow 
 is the son of the granddaughter, Caroline Watson. Both she and the old 
 doctor died in Europe. A short while before the boy's mother died she 
 instructed him to bring to me the private papers of Dr. Watson. Of 
 course, I have no idea what their import may be, but I am bound by 
 a sacred memory to do by this young fellow as if he were my own. 
 A few days before my father's death he said to me: 'My son, the 
 time may come when either Dr. Watson or Caroline will need your 
 advice or help. If so, remember that you are bound to them by ties closer 
 than blood — an obligation that you can never repay.' " 
 
 Captain. "I knew Dr. Watson and Caroline very well." 
 
 Percy (in surprise). "You did? Where?" 
 
 Captain. "In Westmoreland; it was there that he located, feeling 
 that he could never return to his desolated home. It was Dr. Watson who 
 took an interest in Jim Nicholas when he came to Westmoreland, and to 
 him Jim owes everything he is and has today. Dr. Watson secured for 
 him a position and taught him everything in the world he knows." 
 
 Percy. "You surprise me greatly; but Carroll evidently has never 
 heard of Mr. Nicholas, for if he had I am sure he would have said so when 
 I told him I was going to bring him here tonight. But how surprised and 
 pleased Mr. Nicholas will be to meet him!" 
 
 Captain (significantly). "Well, I do not know about that." 
 
 Percy. "What do you mean ? Certainly a man must feel unspeakable 
 gratitude for such service as that rendered by Dr. Watson to Mr. Nicholas." 
 
 Captain. "Percy, Jim Nicholas does not know the meaning of the 
 term gratitude. His soul is so steeped in avarice that his daily prayer is: 
 'Oh, thou Almighty and Everlasting Dollar, from whom cometh every good 
 and perfect gift. Oh, thou Almighty Dollar, whose kingdom is everlasting 
 power.' It was the influence of this Almighty Dollar which caused him to 
 marry my cousin, Amanda Thornton, who had a few thousand in her own 
 name, which Jim got possession of for the price of a marriage license. Now 
 that he has reached his kingdom of eveidasting power, by the accumulation 
 of the Almighty Dollar, do you think he wants to be reminded of the 
 time or the man who was in reality his maker, and ought to have stood 
 to him as his savior?" 
 
 Percy. "Perhaps not if all you say of him is true." 
 
 13 — Winnomng 
 
Captain ( laying his hand on Percy's shoulder ) . "My friend, all I say 
 is true, and more, I suspect, but of that I must be convinced before I im- 
 part, even to you, my mistrust of the man." 
 
 (Enter Lucile, attired in a girlish costume of white.) 
 
 LuciLE. "Cousin Wiljiam and Mr. Percy, the two very people I was 
 looking for. I want you to see Aunt Lindy. She looks perfectly lovely. 
 But what a time I had getting her to submit to the ordeal of hair dressing, 
 etc. I wish you could have heard her on the subject. But here she comes. 
 Judge for yourselves. How dress transforms womankind!" 
 
 (Enter Malinda, dressed in a handsome black silk, quite up-to-date, 
 with hair dressed in the latest style. A well-dressed, well-groomed, good- 
 looking woman. 
 
 ^Ialinda. "Well, look at me. An' you never would'r knowed me if 
 you had met me in the big road." 
 
 Captain. "Mrs. Jones, you are looking superb, and not a day over 
 thirty. Lucile, what would your society friends give for such a com- 
 plexion ?" 
 
 Lucile. "They would gladly give a fortune to acquire it." 
 Percy. "Aunt Lindy, I am simply lost in admiration, and I wonder 
 what LTncle Billy would say if he could see you." 
 
 Malinda. "I reckon he'd be jist like the rest of you, tickled to death 
 at the outside show of me. But I shorely do feel like an old fool. And 
 what would the people in Crabapple County say, if they could see me now? 
 Specially them girls in my Sunday School class, what I beholdens to on the 
 sin of fancy dressin' ever Sunday. Lord, Lord, I can't never teach Sunday 
 School no more; I'd be a plumb hypocrite, me what set up an' let that 
 hair woman comb an' fix my head same as I Avas an imbecile, an' me a well, 
 able-bodied woman. Lucile calls it dressin' my hair. Looks to me more 
 like mussin' it. Then, couldn't nobody but Lucile have made such a 
 gump out'n me. Jist look at these gloves. Now, what's the use keepin' 
 on gloves in the house, I'd like to know. An' I'm so girted up in these close 
 I jist know my ribs ain't never going back to their right place agin." 
 
 (Enter James and Amanda. The latter regally attired. James stops, 
 talks to Percy. The Captain moves off to a mantel in the rear of the 
 stage. ) 
 
 Malinda. "La, Mandy, you air worse lookin' than I am. Ain't you 
 going to put nothin' over your shoulders?" 
 
 Ajianda (indignantly). "Of course not. In society we dress like 
 ladies, and I think you brought your nerve with you to be criticising my 
 dress." 
 
 Malinda. "Ladies! Well, I reckon them that ain't ladies don't wear 
 nothin'. And I know them what ain't in society is got better manners 
 than some what air." 
 
 Lucile. "Oh, you two are acting like bad children. I shall have to 
 stand you both in corners and make you go without supper." 
 
 Malinda. "Yes, Lucile. Sich doins is belittlin', an' I'm sorry, but 
 I kinder lost my temper." 
 
 (Amanda turns from them in disgust and walks over to join the Cap- 
 tain, who seems lost in reverie.) 
 
 Lucile ( taking Malinda's arm ) . "Come with me. I want to show 
 you the drawing room and the ball room before the guests begin to arrive." 
 (Exit Lucile and Malinda.) 
 
 Amanda. "William, what can be done to keep Malinda from making 
 a show of herself and us tonight?" 
 
 Captain (with a start). "Malinda! Oh, yes, I see, Mrs. Jones; she 
 will be a little out of the ordinary, won't she ? In whom the society people 
 
 Winnoiving — 13 
 
can find something of interest, thereby forgetting for the time being the 
 boredom of their own existence." 
 
 Amanda. "You talk as though we were oft'ering her as one of the 
 features of the evening. And in your cynical selfishness enjoying the situa- 
 tion, no doubt; but I tell you it's no laughing matter to me. And you, as 
 my nearest kin, ought to feel the position in which we are placed; for, 
 in spite of your aiTected Bohemianism, you are a Thornton, and must have 
 some of the Thornton pride." 
 
 Oaptain. "Yes, I have a certain kind of pride, but it's the kind which 
 says to the world I value people for what they are as individuals; not what 
 circumstances and progenitors have done for them. And were I in your 
 place I should accept Mrs. Jones, and in my treatment of her say to 
 society, 'I appreciate this woman for her genuine worth, notwithstanding 
 she has been denied the advantages of an early education, and knows noth- 
 ing of the tviles and deceits of a so-called higher social life.' " 
 
 Amanda. "Your position is absolutely untenable. To be made the 
 latighing stock of the entire community for the pleasure of performing an 
 heroic stunt, is a little out of my line." 
 
 Captain. "They may laugh at her, and will, no doubt; but your 
 position, Amanda, will cause this selfsame inconsistent, incomprehensible 
 world in which we live to hold you in utter contempt; for as prone as the 
 old world is to ridicule, and as thoughtless as it seems, the only people 
 in it who command its respect are the ones of independence and true merit. 
 And the only ones who have outlived their day and generation have been 
 those of freedom of thought and independence of action, and not all of 
 them have been men of education, either." (While they continue in con- 
 versation. ) 
 
 James. "You say this young fellow is a great-grandson of Dr. Wat- 
 son?" 
 
 Percy. "Yes. After Dr. Watson left Westmoreland, where, as you 
 know, he lived in very reduced circrunstances, his affairs underwent almost 
 a magical change. On some lands which had been considered worthless 
 valuable minerals were found, and he sold out for several hundred thousand 
 dollars. He then took his young granddaughter and went to live in Europe. 
 Caroline perhaps married unfortunately, as the boy seems to know but 
 little of his father." 
 
 James. "What is the boy's name?" 
 
 Peecy. "Carroll Arnold. He was called for my father." 
 
 James. "How old is he ?" 
 
 Percy. "About twenty, I suppose. I have not asked his age, but he 
 is young, a mere boy." 
 
 James ( with a look of relief ) . "We shall be glad to know him. I 
 knew his grandfather many years ago, and he was very kind to me when 
 I was a young fellow struggling to make my way in the world." 
 
 Percy. "So I have understood, Mr. Nicholas." (Said Avith a look of 
 utter contempt on his face, and scorn in his voice. Turning to the Cap- 
 tain). "Captain, will you join me in the smoking room?" 
 
 Captain. "Certainly." 
 
 (Exit Percy and Captain.) 
 
 Amanda. "James, we had better go into the drawing room; it is 
 almost time the guests were arriving." 
 
 James. "I will join you in a few moments." 
 
 (Exit Amanda as Lucile enters from an opposite door.) 
 
 LuciLE. "Father, I want to talk to you for a few moments about 
 Aunt Lindy." 
 
 14 — Winnowing 
 
James. "If you can suggest some way to get rid of her for tonight, 
 at least, I will be glad to hear you." 
 
 LuciLE (in blank astonishment). "Get rid of her! Why, that is 
 simply impossible! And I am shocked and hurt that you could suggest 
 such a thing." 
 
 James. "What in the world did you mean by inviting Malinda here, 
 just at this time, without consulting either your mother or me?" 
 
 LuciLE (indignantly). "I did not invite her. I wrote her from the 
 other side that you were going to celebrate in this way my return from a 
 trip around tlie world. And she took it for granted that she would be a 
 welcome guest in her own brother's house." 
 
 James (somewhat disconcerted by Lucile's manner). "Well, at any 
 other time I should have been glad to have her; but just now, to "be made 
 the butt of ridicule of the society world is too much. I can stand any- 
 thing better than ridicule." 
 
 LuciLE. "Father, it is better to have the ridicule of society than 
 its contempt, disdain and scorn. She is your sister. You were born of 
 the same parents, lived amid the same environments. But you, being a 
 man, could get out and create for yourself a place in the world, while she, 
 a woman, had to accept the inevitable. And you are ashamed of her for 
 this and no other cause? Oh, it is cowardly! I can not believe it of you. 
 You who have been big enough to make a success in life, ought to be 
 great enough to create or mold the little world around you." (With an 
 entire change of manner, throwing her arms around his neck). "Oh, 
 father, don't you see that this means more to me than hurting Aunt 
 Lindy, unspeakably more than what the world will do or say. It means 
 my respect, my admiration for you, you who have been my' hero. Ever 
 since I was old enough to know anything about the Avorld, I have gloried in 
 the fact that you Avere a self-made man, not a creature of circumstance. 
 You are a man too big to yield to such a petty weakness." 
 
 James (much moved). "You are right, my child; you are always" 
 right. And, Lucile. you are the one being in the Avorld that I love over 
 and above all things else. Yes, ]\Ia]inda shall be one of us, and we will let 
 the world say what it will." 
 
 (The music behind the scene.) 
 
 Ltjcile. "How happy you have made me! I knew you were truly 
 great. The musicians have started, the guests are evidently arriving; we 
 must go into the drawing room." 
 
 (Exit James and Lucile.) 
 
 (Enter the Captain, quickly followed by Percy and Carroll Arnold.) 
 
 Percy. "Captain Thornton, I want you to meet my young friend, 
 Carroll Arnold." 
 
 Captain (extending his hand and speaking with much warmth of 
 feeling). "Young man, I am glad to meet the descendant of your great- 
 grandfather, one of God's noblemen. Your mother I loved as a little girl, 
 and it makes me feel very old, indeed, to see a son of hers grown." 
 
 Carroll. "Captain Thornton, you can not appreciate my feeling un- 
 less you have lived in a foreign land, and for the first time felt the cordial 
 grasp of the hand of one who knew and loved those who were dearer than 
 life to you." 
 
 Captain. "My dear boy, I am a lonely man in my native country, so 
 much so that I can fully sympathize with you. Were you born in Europe?" 
 
 Carroll. "Yes, and lived there all of my life, but I can not remem- 
 ber a time when I did not have a longing for America, strange as it may 
 seem. But I suppose the real reason was my grandfather, who lived until 
 I was 14, never tired of telling me of the greatness of this country." 
 
 Captain. "How long has your grandfather been dead?" 
 
 Winnowing — 15 
 
Carroll. "Ten j^ears. He lived to a great age, over .ninety when he 
 died." 
 
 Captain. "Then you are twenty-four now" (a? he glances at Percy 
 and then looks earnestly at Carroll ) . ,- •• 
 
 Percy. "You are older than I thought, Carroll. I told Mr. Nicholas 
 that you could not be over twenty." 
 
 Carroll. "Yes, every one takes me to be younger than I am, but I 
 will be twenty-five my next birthday. And that is one thing that brought 
 me to America. My grandfather stipulated in his will that not until then 
 was I to come into the possesion of my e,state, which is in the hands of a 
 trust company in this country. And he also suggested to my mother that 
 I consult you, Mr. Carroll, in regard to my future plans. So here I am." 
 Captain (looking intently at the boy). "Carroll, tell me of your 
 mother. I left Westmoreland before she was grown. I remember her as 
 a child of large dark eyes, with a wistful expression." 
 
 Carroll. "My mother. Well, of course, I am a partial judge, but to 
 me she was almost perfect. She^ was a woman of unusual intellect, utterly 
 unselfish, her breadth and charity were superhuman. Her life work, her 
 passion," was to save women, to shelter the young from temptation, and 
 reclaim the fallen. And her success was marvelous. She had a way of 
 reaching the hearts of women. But she was a sad woman. The loss of 
 my father seemed to have thrown a deep shadow over her life, one 
 she never came from under. I could never talk to her of him; the 
 tears would come to her eyes and she would say to me: 'My son, there 
 are sorrows in life too deep for utterance. In my heart there is a grave 
 that I dare not open for fear of being consumed by an overwhelming gi'ief.' 
 And, Captain, her eyes never lost that wistful look. Indeed, it was at. 
 times pathetic, but she was beautiful. 0, so beautiful." 
 
 Captain ( placing his hand on Carroll's shoulder ) . "My boy, you- 
 have drawn a striking picture of a woman made perfect through suffering." 
 Carroll. "Captain, did you know my father also?" 
 Captain (with sadness). "No, my boy, I did not." 
 
 (Enter Rose.) 
 Rose. "Oh, you must, all of you, go into the drawing room and see 
 Lucile introducing Mrs. Jones. She has taken a decisive step. And there 
 she stands, true to her colors. There is absolute heroism in her manner 
 ,and bearing, and woe betide the man or woman Avho jeers at 'Aimt Lindy.' 
 O, how I admire her pluck, her courage." 
 
 Percy. "So do I; there is something truly great in a young girl who 
 can take such a stand on an occasion like this." 
 
 Captain. "And we in our conceit call women the weaker vessel. I 
 tell you, it requires greater bravery to calmly meet and conquer a laugh- 
 inc Avorld than to go forth to battle under the spur of excitement or the 
 impulse of the moment." 
 
 (Enter Tom and Malinda.) 
 
 Malinda (fanning vigorously). "Whew! how hot this house is, and 
 talking agin that music, and all them people talkin' to once, and nobody 
 list'nin' to nobody — is the most complexing thing I ever saw. And the way 
 them women are dressed is sacrilegious." 
 
 Rose. "We would infer, from that, Mrs. Jones, you do not approve 
 of the decolett§ gown." 
 
 Malinda. "The what?" 
 
 Captain. "The dress, if you were speaking in Biblical langauge, you 
 would call 'low and behold.' " 
 
 Malinda. "Well, now, you'v hit it. Captain. An' thankful I am tliet 
 Billy Jones is to home, an' more'n likely is in bed, a-sleepin' tlie sleep of 
 the "virchus right now. Why, the way them women did flatter Jeems K. 
 
 16 — Winnowing 
 
Polk was enough to turn the milk of human kindness to clabber. An' he 
 jist swallowed hook, bait an' all. An' I would like to hev tole some of 'em 
 what I heard talkin' behind thur back, what I thought o' 'em, but on 
 Lucile's responsibility I. had to be polite. Specially that woman v/ho said, 
 'It's strange, for he looks like he might 'ev been to the manner born.' Now, 
 Jeems K. Polk was born in a respectable log liouse, an' his pa an' ma was 
 duly married, an' I don't thank nobody to say such cutting remarks 'bout 
 'em. An', besides, it ain't polite nohow to be talkin' 'bout people in their 
 own house. Why, in Crabapple County there ain't nobody but what is 
 better mannered than that." 
 
 Tom. "In polite society, Mrs. Jones, people take liberties. They 
 show their superior breeding by criticising their host and hostess; also 
 each other." 
 
 Malixda. "Polite fiddlesticks. I call it outlandish." 
 
 Pebcy. "Come, Aunt Lindy, you and 1 will go and take a look at 
 
 the enjoyment of society instead of railing at it." (Offers his arm, which 
 
 Malinda accepts.) 
 
 Malinda. "All right, Percy; that might be more like a Christian." 
 Captain. "Come on, Carroll. We'll join the Christian band, too." 
 Caeeoll. "With pleasure." (Exit the four.) 
 
 Rose. "What a picnic ]\Irs. Jones is; but I feel sorry for Lucile." 
 Tom. "So do I, but let's go and see the fun." 
 
 (Exit Tom and Rose, as James and Blanche enter from an opposite 
 door. ) 
 
 James. "What a relief to get away from that thi'ong, for a moment 
 of real happiness." (Looking most tenderly at Blanche.) 
 
 Blanche ( with coquetry ) . "Wouldn't you say the same thing to 
 any other woman who happened to be with you?" 
 
 James. "No, you know there is no other woman in the world that I 
 love as I do you." 
 
 Blanche. "Hush" (looking around) "you might be overheard." 
 
 James. "Come with me into the conservatory, where we can be 
 alone." 
 
 Blanche. "This is imprudent." 
 
 James. "Oh, every one has gone to the ball room. I must have you 
 to myself for a little. Come or I will take you in my arms right here." 
 
 Blanche. "That is what I 'thought you were going to do once or 
 twice in the drawing room from the look in your eyes. Don't you know 
 people will see this ? How often must I tell you that you must be more 
 careful ?" 
 
 James. 'Blanche, I cannot help it; I am simply beside myself. Come, 
 don't you see I cannot keep my hands off you." (Putting his arm around 
 her and drawing her towards the conservatory door, through which they 
 disappear. ) 
 
 (Enter Lucile.) 
 
 Lucile. "Oh, I must be alone for a moment" (dropping into a chair). 
 "How I wish this night were ended. It was so different when I was a 
 child in the country with dear Aunt Lindy. I could not realize what a 
 show she would be among such people" (with a break in her voice). "And 
 I have tried so hard to be brave, and indifferent to the laughter and jeers" 
 (sobbing) "Oh, oh." (Hearing some one coming, she tries to control 
 herself. ) 
 
 (Enter Percy.) 
 
 Peecy. "What, in tears" (very tenderly). "Little girl, this will 
 never do." 
 
 Winnowing — 17 
 
LuciLE (irritated). "I am not crying. I am tired." 
 
 Percy. "Of course you are, but tell me, what's the trouble? You 
 know you used to make a confidant of me. You and I have gotten over 
 some rough places." 
 
 LuciLE (smiling). "Yes, I know I must have been a great bore when 
 a child, for I went to you with all of my troubles." 
 
 Percy. "You were never a bore, and you know it." 
 LuciLE (laughing). "But I did have a fiery temper, and my red head 
 was always getting me into trouble. Do you remember the time I went 
 to your office with that bottle of hair dye to confide in you my determina- 
 tion to dye it? And you treated the matter so seriously and read me a 
 lecture." 
 
 Percy. "As if it were yesterday, Lucile. I can see that little tot 
 standing there with a mysterious looking parcel tucked under her arm, as 
 she gazed earnestly into my face, with her dark eyes fairly snapping, and 
 said, 'Mr. Percy, I want to tell you a secret. You won't tell, will you?' 
 Then drawing confidingly near to me, she tragically announced, 'I am going 
 to dye my hair.' And when I asked seriously Avhy she wanted to dye that 
 glorious hair she stamped her foot in irritation, as the tears of anger gath- 
 ered in her eyes, and exclaimed: 'Oh, everybody calls it red, and I don't 
 want to be red-headed.' And Avhen asked what color she wanted she re- 
 plied, eniiDhatically, 'Black, coal Mack.' " 
 
 (The butler passes through with a bottle of wine and two glasses. 
 Goes into the conservatory.) 
 
 Lucile. "Yes, and then you took that same bad little girl on your 
 lap and told her in grave tones what a fright she would be with her 
 head shaved." 
 
 Percy. "And her utter astonishment when told it would grow out 
 short red hair instead of those long silken curls. She then puckered her 
 saucy little mouth and reluctantly said, 'Well, I guess I had better give 
 you the bottle of hair dye.' And foreclosed all future temptation by suit- 
 ing the action to the word." 
 
 Lucile (laughing heartily). "What a good memory you have; that 
 was years ago. I, too, can recall so vividly the whole scene. How seriously 
 you treated the matter. Most people would have laughed at and ridi- 
 culed me." 
 
 Percy'. "Perhaiss, but that was a real sorrow to the childish heart, 
 realizing that I sympathized with it." 
 
 Lucile. "Yes, my hair Avas a source of mortification, and your un- 
 derstanding, I think, it must have been, that caused me to go to you for 
 consolation." 
 
 Percy. "And you remember I told her I Avould keep that hair dye 
 until she was grown, and then we would see if she still wanted to use it? 
 Well, Lucile, I have the dye. Do you want it? 
 
 Lucile (amused). "Oh, dear, no." 
 
 Percy. "I knew the time would come when you could appreciate 
 that crown of glory." 
 
 Lucile (suddenly). "But what have you done with Aunt Lindy?" 
 
 Percy. "I had completely forgotten her and my instructions. I left 
 her with the Captain. Your mother sent me to find you and bring you 
 back to the ball room." 
 
 Lucile. "I am not going; I am going to remain here for a while. 
 You go and tell mother I am engaged. Then, Mr. Percy, you come back; 
 I want to talk to you." 
 
 Percy.. "I will deliver your message promptly, and return with a 
 great deal of pleasure." (Exit Percy.) 
 
 18 — Winnoioiiiff 
 
(Lucile goes over to aii oriel windoAv, where she takes a seat, hidden 
 from view by drapery.) 
 
 (Enter Blanche and James, from the conservatory. James with his 
 arm about Blanche draws her violently to him, kisses her, still holding her 
 to his breast.) 
 
 James. "Great God, woman, do you know how I love you? I would 
 barter my soul to possess you, to know that you were mine, body and 
 soul. 0, my darling, I am passing through the tortures of hell; I must 
 have you, you shall be mine, my own. If you love me what is there to 
 prevent? A woman has a perfect right to give herself, and a man to take, 
 when they are all in all to each other. And by the only law that 
 governs the universe — Love — we belong to each other. Blanche, darling, I 
 am going to take you home tonight. Do you understand? And this time 
 you are not going to evade me, as you have done." 
 
 Blanche ( excitedly, pushing him away ) . "Hush, some one is coming." 
 (Enter the Captain.) 
 
 Captaix. "Your wife is looking for you." 
 
 James (somewhat confused). "Mrs. Van Dyke and I are on our 
 way to join them in the ball room now." 
 
 Blaxche. "Yes, won't you come with us, Captain?" 
 
 Captaix (as he seats himself on a sofa, and motions Blanche to a 
 seat beside him). "Thank you. I prefer entertaining you here for a few 
 moments. We can join j\Irs. Nicholas later." 
 
 James (annoyed as Blanche takes the seat indicated). "I suppose 1 
 am dismissed?" 
 
 Blanche. "Of course. ]\Iarried men must give way to bachelors in 
 a case of this kind." 
 
 James. "Your will is my pleasure." (Exit James.) 
 
 Blanche. "Now, Captain, out with it. I know you are going to 
 read me a lecture and I deserve it. I know I was imprudent, but this 
 house is stifling, and I wanted a breath of air." 
 
 Captain. "And Jim Nicholas wants somebodj^ to kick him." 
 
 Blanche. "No, really, it was my fault. I think I proposed it, and 
 while it was dreadfully thoughtless, I did not — " 
 
 Captain. "No, you did not propose it. You allowed yourself to be 
 carried off of your feet by this fellow's avowed admiration and pretended 
 love. That is the card he always plays; his true purposes would not allure 
 a woman of your stamp." 
 
 Blanche. "0, Captain, yon don't for a moment believe that Mr. 
 Nicholas has been making love to me?" 
 
 Captain. "Blanche, I do not want you to tell me anything. Assur- 
 edly not an untruth. I simply want to tell you a few things." (Taking her 
 hand and speaking very tenderly). "Little woman, I never loved but 
 one woman in the world, and that woman was your mother. For her sake 
 I am doing what I never did before — interfering in other peoples' business. 
 Do you i-emeraber Old Titbottom's magic spectacles, through which he 
 could read the heai'ts of all men, and which he sometimes regarded as a 
 gift of the greatest value?" (Blanche nods her head.) "Well, I am going 
 to slip those spectacles on you for a little while, just long enough to 
 enable you to see one man as he really is." 
 
 (Percy comes to the door and looks in. Not seeing Lucile, he passes on.) 
 Captain. "Many years ago an old man came to live in the little city 
 of W^estmoreland. He was all alone in the world save a little grand- 
 dauo'hter, a beautiful, happy-hearted child, whom the old man loved with 
 a tenderness that beggars description. The old man became interested in 
 a boy from the country who was without money, friends or education. He 
 secured for this boy a" position by which he could make a living, and in 
 
 Winnowmg — 19 
 
the boy's leisure hours the old man gave himself up to teaching, drilling — 
 in fact, edu^cating him. The boy grew to be a man; he was now pretty 
 well educated, and soon showed ability for money making. Shortly he 
 married into one of the most prominent families in the country, a woman 
 who had inherited some money. His success was assured. But what of 
 the old man and the little granddaughter, who had grown into young wom- 
 anhood, a girl of about seventeen. Can you imagine the old man's horror 
 when he found, after this scoundrel had married that a short while before, 
 he had ruined that child and left her with honor gone and life blighted?" 
 
 Blanche. "0, Captain, that is horrible. What became of the girl 
 and the child, perhaps ?" 
 
 Captain. "That you may learn later. But this is not all of this fel- 
 low's villainy. Do you remember to have heard of the suicide of Mrs. 
 Turner, the beautiful wife of a man Avho Avas this villain's friend?" 
 
 Blanche. "Yes, I heard there was a great deal of mystery about her 
 death." 
 
 Captain. "The mystery is this: She fell in love with Jim Nicholas. 
 Later Avhen he tired of the affair he calmly told her there was no use in 
 making a fuss about it, as she alone would go under. That such was the 
 law of society, a time-honored law of nature, a law that had existed since 
 the dark ages, even before the coming of Christ; a law that has been 
 accepted and ratified by every generation since. In other words, be 
 considers woman the legitimate prey of man." 
 
 Blanche (in a reflective mood). "The woman killed herself. The 
 world said it is better so; we have no sympathy for fallen women. It 
 is unwise to even suggest that a fallen woman may redeem herself; the 
 world will not have it so. And yet, the vicious man, who has played upon 
 her weakness, by his tempting whispering, goes unscathed; indeed, is 
 sometimes made a hero of." (Growing excited and rising.) "Oh, it is 
 infamous, infamous ! '" 
 
 Captain. "Yes, my dear, this attiude of the Avorld is most unjust. 
 But why do women continue to be the playthings of men? For woman, 
 in all her weakness, is the strongest force upon earth. Women are like the 
 buildings of a great city, wherein there are holy temples at which men 
 worship in calm peace. Also dens where men gamble away their souls. Is 
 man set toward ambition, Avoman will unlock the inner soul and show him 
 the road that leads to glory. Is he worn and weary, she has comfort in 
 her breast. Is he fallen, she can lift him up. At her touch honor withers, 
 locks open, and barriers fall. She is as infinite as the ocean, and variable 
 as the lieaA^ens. And thus woman rules the Avorld. Yet she is the slave of 
 man." 
 
 Blanche (with much intensity of feeling). "0, Captain, you have 
 shoAvn me unto myself. Y''ou have saved me from a fate Avorse than .death. 
 I Avas fascinated, yes, infatuated Avith the man. And I was standing on 
 the brink of a bottomless pit. Oh, God, I thank thee." 
 
 Captain. "Yes, Ave can both thank him that I Avas not too late, for 
 his victims haA^e all been Avomen of your stamp. He is afraid of the com- 
 mon Avoman, afraid of blackmail." 
 
 Blanche. "Take me aAvay from here, take me home. I never Avant 
 to see his face again." 
 
 Captain. "Go and get your wraps. I Avill meet you here in ten min- 
 utes." (Exit Blanche, folloAved by the Captain.) 
 
 (Lueile staggers from her place of concealment. White as death, 
 feeling for a chair, falls into it in a sAvoon. Percy entering from the hall.) 
 
 Pekcy. "Lueile, where have you been ? I ImA^e been looking for you 
 eA^eryAvhere." (Stops at her side, startled and excitedly taking her hand). 
 "Child, AAdiat is the matter? Oh, Lueile, speak to me. iNly God! What 
 has happened, my darling?" (Presses a kiss upon her brow, then start* 
 and draws back). "No, not thus. She has fainted. I must haA-e help." 
 
 20 — Winnowing 
 
(He rushes to the door and to some one on the outside. "Call Mrs. Jones 
 or Mrs. Gilroy quickly." (As he turns around he knocks over a chair, 
 iipsets a A^ase on the table, stumbles over a rug. Bending over Lucile he 
 takes her hand.) "Will they never come? What on earth can I do?" 
 (Turns again to the door.) 
 
 (Enter Rose and Malinda excited.) 
 
 Rose. "What is the matter?" (Sees Lucile.) "Lucile, Lucile! Oh, 
 what has happened to her ?" 
 
 Malinda (going up to Lucile). "She's got a faintin' fit. Come here, 
 Percy Carroll. Lay her down on the floor. Don't you know 'nough to put 
 people flat out when they faints ?" 
 
 (Percy and Malinda lay Lucile on the floor. Rose rushes for water. 
 Percy stands looking frightened and helpless. Malinda kneels by Lucile 
 and, taking the water from Rose, begins to bathe her face.) 
 
 Malinda. "Percy, go for a doctor. Ain't there none in the house?" 
 
 Rose. "Yes, Dr. Blank, a homoepathic doctor." 
 
 Malinda. "Xo, I don't wairt no homicede doctor. Sugar an' water 
 may do for the infantry, but adultery needs something stronger." (As she 
 continues bathing Lueile's face.) 
 
 (The Captain appears at the door, is startled, looks around, takes in 
 the. window and the confusion of the room, grasps the situation.) 
 
 Captain (aside). "My C4od, in trying to save a weak woman I have 
 broken the heart of a strong one." 
 
 Percy. "I will get a doctor." ( Starts hurriedly to the door. Meets 
 the Captain in overcoat and hat in hand.) 
 
 Captain. "What is the matter?" 
 
 Peecy. "I found Lucile here a moment ago in a dead faint. Am hurry- 
 ing for a doctor." (Exit Percy.) 
 
 (Blanche appears at the door in wraps and furs. The Captain hur- 
 ries her away. Rose has knelt by Lucile, and with Malinda is rub- 
 bing her hands.) 
 
 Malinda. "She's better now. Lucile, darlin', you jist had a faintin' 
 fit. An' no wonder; this house is odious with flowers." 
 
 (Lucile partially raises herself, and looks around in a startled and 
 dazed, manner. Then throws her arms around Malinda's neck and sobs 
 hysterically. ) 
 
 Malinda (coddling her as she would a child). "Yes, honey, tell Aunt 
 Lindy what's the matter." 
 
 Lucile. "Oh, Aunt Lindy, take me away from here. Take me home 
 with you, to the country — away from deceit, treachery and corruption." 
 
 (She clings to Malinda, sobbing as if her heart would break.) 
 
 Winnowing — 21 
 
ACT IV. 
 
 Ten Days Later. 
 
 Scene. (Law office of Carroll & Gilroy. Percy Carroll seated at a desk, 
 surrounded by papers, his head resting on his hand, seemingly lost in 
 thought, when Tom Gilroy enters with court records in hand.) 
 
 Tom. "Well, I got those cases put off, but for the life of me I can't see 
 why we did not let that Miller trial at least come up ; everything is ready." 
 
 Peecy. "Simply because I must give it my undivided attention, which 
 I cannot do just at this time." 
 
 Tom. "Percy, what in the devil is the matter with you? For a week 
 or ten days you have not been yourself." 
 
 Percy. "No, perhaps not; I have the most harassing situation I ever 
 encountered, and I do not know how to handle it without the Captain's aid, 
 and he, as you know, is in no condition to assist me." 
 
 Tom. "No, he has been drunk ever since Lucile's party, and no one 
 ever sees him in that condition." 
 
 Percy. "The Captain is the gentleman even in his sprees. None of 
 his most intimate friends ever saw him drunk, and yet we all know his 
 habit." 
 
 Tom. "Shuts himself up with that negro George, who will lie like a 
 cavalier for him. Tell you he is desperately ill, has rheumatism, out of 
 his head from fever, anything; but you simply cannot see the Captain." 
 
 Percy. "I believe I'll telephone George and find out what the prospect 
 is of seeing him any time soon." (Going towards the 'phone.) 
 . Tom. "Good idea." 
 
 Percy (at the 'phone). "Give me 702. Hello, that you, George? 
 How is the Captain? ]\Ir. Carroll. I am glad to hear that. George, tell 
 him that I am exceedingly anxious to see him. Hello, that you. Captain? 
 I am glad to know you are better. Yes, it's most important. Yotmg 
 Arnold. All right. I'll be here. Good-bye." (Hangs up the receiver. 
 Turning to Tom). "He's coming here, and, Tom, I am going to ask you 
 to leave us alone for a while. This is a private matter of importance." 
 
 Tom. "All right. Have jow heard from Lucile today?" 
 
 Percy. "Yes, but she still refuses to see any one." 
 
 Tom. "So they told Rose last night. What can be the matter with 
 her? Rose says she evidently received some sort of shock the night of 
 the ball." 
 
 Percy. "I don't know about that. I found her in a dead faint. It 
 may have been that she was not well, and the excitement and the heat 
 brought on a little sick spell." 
 
 Tom (sarcastically). "That is a most plausible construction to put 
 upon the situation, and I know you believe every word of it. Lucile in a 
 dead faint in the library, the Captain disappeared mysteriously with 
 Blanche Van Dyke, then goes off on a ten days' drunk. Blanche without 
 warning packs herself off to New York. Jim Nicholas looks like a man 
 condemned to be hanged. Lucile shuts herself up in her room and sees 
 no one but Aunt Lindy. And for once in her life Aruit Lindy is not talk- 
 ing." 
 
 Percy. Shut up and keep yoiu- suspicions to yourself, or you'll set 
 the whole town afire with scandal." 
 
 Tom. "All right, I'll go home and talk the matter over with Rose. 
 She is one woman who can keep a still tongue in her head if necessary." 
 (Going toward the door.) 
 
 Percy. "It's more than you seem to be able to do." 
 
 Tom. "I forgive you, old boy; for it is the first time in our twenty 
 
 22 — Winnowing 
 
years' friendshiii I ever knew you to be cross and unreasonable. So long." 
 (Exit Tom.) 
 
 Percy (to himself). "I never realized before liow provoking Tom can 
 be." (Enter the Captain, showing by his appearance the effects of a hard 
 spree. ) 
 
 Peecy (rising and meeting him cordially). "I am so glad to see you. 
 Take this easy chair. I hated to disturb you, biit I have the most damnable 
 piece of news to impart." 
 
 Captain (sinking into tlie chair). "I think I know its nature. Gar- 
 roll Arnold is the son of Jim Nicholas, and you have been appointed the 
 cheerful mission of imparting to the young fellow knowledge that may, yes, 
 will, wreck his life." 
 
 Percy ( in utter astonishment ) . "What ! You know this ? How did you 
 find it out?" 
 
 Captaix. "I suspected it the moment I heard the. boy's name. Few 
 people knew that Caroline's name was Arnold, for Dr. Watson religiously 
 kept it to himself. For some reason he did not like her father, and after 
 the death of Arnold and his wife, who was Dr. Watson's daughter, he 
 changed Caroline's name to Watson. She Avas then an infant, and never 
 knew any other father or mother save the old doctor. I have no idea that 
 Jim Nicholas ever knew her real name. Perhaps even you did not 
 know it." 
 
 Percy. "No, I did not. But can it be possible that Nicholas does 
 not know the boy is his son?" 
 
 Captain. "No, he does not know it. I was talking to Amanda, but 
 watching Jim, when you were telling him who Carroll was, and I saw first 
 the start, and later the look of relief when you told his age." 
 
 Percy. "My God, what a villain he is." 
 
 Captain. "Yes, he's that all right." 
 
 Percy. "But, Captain, Dr. Watson has left it to my discretion whether 
 or not to tell the boy." 
 
 Captain. "In that case do not tell him. I see no use in destroying 
 the boy's faith in God and man, which it will do, when he loses faith in 
 his mother and conceives contempt and hatred for his father. I have been 
 through the torments of hell since I so unconsciously revealed to Lucile the 
 true character of her despicable father." 
 
 Percy (in horror). "You did what?" 
 
 Captain "My boj^ didn't you guess the truth? The other night, in 
 trying to save Blanche Van Dyke from that seducer's influence, I revealed 
 him to her in his real colors, telling her of Caroline and the other Avoman 
 whose lives and happiness he had destroyed, and Lucile was in the window 
 behind the curtain and heard the whole story." 
 
 Percy. "Great God. Poor Lucile! How she has been suffering and 
 will continue to do so through this man's infamy." 
 
 Captain. "Yes, that is the Avorst thing about such villains. It is the 
 innocent Avho suffer, Avhile they go scot free." 
 
 Percy. "I know of no one Avho Avill feel a thing like this as keenly 
 as Lucile. She is proud, high-minded, sensitiA^e. Poor child." 
 
 Captain. "And that I should have been the instrument of bringing 
 it on her. I tell you it's hell and damnation. I had better have let 
 Blanche go to the bottomless pit." 
 
 Percy. "No, no. If you have saved one Avoman from such a fate, 
 you have Avon an immortal croAvn." (Telephone rings.) 
 
 Percy (taking doAvn the receiver). "Hello." (A look of surprise 
 comes over his face.) "Well, what is it? If you must see me, you Avill 
 have to come here. No. As you please." (Hangs up the receiver.) 
 
 Winnoiving — 23 
 
Percy. "That was Nicholas, in that imperious manner of liis, ordering 
 me to come to liis office." 
 
 Captain. "I judge from your reply that jou declined the honor." 
 
 Percy. "Yes, but he is coming here." 
 
 Captain (rising). "Well, I am going; he will be here in a moment 
 or two, as he has only to drop two floors on the elevator. And I am in no 
 condition to see him now. I am sorely tempted to choke the life out of 
 him." 
 
 Percy. "I should willingly throw him out of that window, if, by 
 doing so, I could rid the world of his infamy." 
 
 Captain (going out). "Come over to my rooms as soon as you can 
 get away from here." 
 
 Percy. "All right." (Exit the Captain. Percy. turns and walks to 
 the window. Stands looking out when James Nicholas enters.) 
 
 James. "I met that very worthy cousin of my wife's out there in the 
 hall. I suppose he has concluded not to drink himself to death yet 
 awhile, but will hang around a little longer. It's a pity such men do not 
 take themselves out of the world by a shorter route." 
 
 ( There is anger in Percy's voice and contempt in his manner as James 
 concludes, but he makes a desperate effort at self-control.) 
 
 Percy. "A man maj drink wliisky and at the same time retain his 
 honor and integrity." 
 
 James. "Yes, but it seems rather late in life for Thornton to enter 
 the field as a reformer." 
 
 Percy. "To what do you refer?" 
 
 James. "I suppose he has told you of his sudden awakening to a 
 sense of virtue, which prompted him to indulge in a lot of sentimental rot 
 in regard to Blanche Van Dyke, as though she were an innocent child 
 instead of an experienced woman of the world and thoroughly capable of 
 taking care of herself." 
 
 Percy. "A Aveak woman is never capable of taking care of herself." 
 
 James. "Yes, but I notice it is only old men, when they have out- 
 grown the pleasure of life, who feel called upon to constitute themselves 
 the guardians of women." 
 
 Percy. "Unfortunately, to a certain extent, that is true. But there 
 are plenty of men who would not attempt to corrupt a woman's virtue. 
 And there are a few men in the world who believe the moral standard 
 should be the same for men and women." 
 
 James. "You certainly have more sense than to advocate such a doc- 
 trine. You know it is absurd. That there should be a difference between 
 the sexes is an established law of nature." (Lucile and Malinda appear at 
 the door and stand as if spellbound). "God intended that it should be so. 
 He made man the stronger and intended that he should dominate woman, 
 and legislate laAvs of his own — " 
 
 (Pei'cy growing angrier all the while.) 
 
 Percy. "What do you know of God? You who have betrayed every 
 trust, from that of an old man, who stood to you as a savior, to the young, 
 innocent girl whom jo\i threw off to become, for all you knew, an outcast, 
 at the same time the mother of your child. When a man of your stamp 
 takes the name of God on his lips to twist and distort his great purposes to 
 suit his own base lusts he ought to be struck dead." 
 
 James (in great rage starts towards him) . "How dare you?" (Lucile 
 steps into the room, followed by Malinda.) 
 
 Lucile. "Father." 
 • James and Percy (start violently and exclaim simultaneously) . "Lucile." 
 
 34 — Winnowing 
 
James (greatly excited) . "What are you doing here? This is no place 
 for a young girl. Go home at once." 
 
 LuciLE. "From what I have seen and heard within the last few days, 
 this world is no place for women of any age. They seem to have been 
 created solely for man's base purposes." 
 
 James (in alarm). "Lucile, you are mad. What do you know of 
 evil in life ? You who have been so tenderly sheltered, protected from every 
 ill. From your infancy I have showered upon you every luxury, humored 
 your every whim. And, 0, my. child, I have loved you with an idolatrous 
 love. Lucile, my child, my baby, come home with me." (As he draws 
 near her.) 
 
 Carroll Arnold appears at the door. 
 
 Lucile (repulsing him). "Do not touch me. In your touch there is 
 pollution. Yes, you have humored me, you have showered upon me money. 
 But what of that other child? What of Caroline Watson and her helpless 
 baby, that you left in dishonor, that you might marry my mother, with 
 her few paltry thousands ? Where is Caroline Watson ? Where is her 
 child?" 
 
 Malinda has dropped, sobbing, into a chair, while Percy stands as if 
 petrified. And James is trembling with fear and cowardice. Carroll 
 rushes into the room. 
 
 Carroll. "0, Mr. Carroll, tell me that this is not true. ~S1y mother! 
 0, God, my mother!" (Sobs.) 
 
 Percy piilling himself together. Lucile stops as if turned to stone. 
 
 Percy. "Carroll, my poor boy" (going up and putting his arm on 
 his shoulder), "may God help you." 
 
 Carroll. "Then it is true. That miserable coward standing there is 
 my father. That infamous villain ruined my mother." (Starts towards 
 James.) "Then, by the eternal God, this world can not hold both of us." 
 ( He • springs at James and catches him by the throat and chokes him. 
 Percy springs at Carroll and loosens his hold.) 
 
 Percy. "Carroll, you know not what you are doing." (Carroll 
 struggles for a moment, then desists, as James staggers back and falls 
 into a chair, groaning piteously. ) 
 
 Carroll. "No, that is not the way — but he has got to meet me, and 
 God shall judge which of the two is best fitted to live." 
 
 Malinda springs to her feet during the excitement. 
 
 Malixda. "Look at Jeems K. Oh, what is the matter with him?" 
 (They all turn to him. His eyes have taken on a glazed look. His face is 
 blank. His mind gone. He does not speak or seem to see any of them.) 
 
 Lucile (going to him). "Father, father! What is it? Oh, what 
 have I done?" (Wringing her hands.) 
 
 Malisda (taking hold of him). Jeems K., don't you know me? 
 Don't you know Lindy and Lucile, your own sister an' little girl? Speak 
 to me, Jeems K. Oh,' it's the work of God. No man could'r done it." 
 
 Lucile (throwing herself down by his chair). "Father, Oh, father, 
 forgive me." 
 
 Percy (bending over him). "Mr. Nicholas, Mr. Nicholas. His mind 
 is gone." (All the while Carroll stands looking on with no emotion except 
 that of hatred written on his face.) 
 
 Lucile. "Oh, God, my punishment is greater than I can bear." (As 
 Percy stands over her trying to comfort, Malinda puts her arm about her 
 and lifts her to her feet. ) 
 
 Malinda. "Come with me, baby. You cannot answer God when he 
 steps in an' takes charge of things." 
 
 curtain. 
 
 Winnoiving — 25 
 
• ^ ACT V. 
 
 Six Months Later. 
 Scene. (Same as first — living room in ISTicliolas home.) 
 
 Rose. "Isn't this world a place of rapid changes ? Six months ago to- 
 day Lucile made her debut with the promise of brilliant social success." 
 
 Tom. "Yes, and on that eventful night, something happened; I don't 
 suppose we will ever know what, but it changed her, in the twinkling of an 
 eye, from a light-hearted girl into a thoughtful, serious woman. Ten days 
 later, without warning, Jim Nicholas, the financial king of his little world, 
 became a hopeless imbecile." 
 
 Rose. "It is all so mysterious. I can't understand it." 
 
 Tom. "Well, Jim's condition is easilj^ accounted for. He had been 
 burning the candle at both ends for twenty-five years or more." 
 
 Rose. "Was he really as bad as people now say he was?" 
 
 Tom. "He couldn't have been much worse, and everybody knew it, but 
 he was a power in money matters. Although nobody knew just how his 
 fortune was amassed and many were the surmises and speculations, also 
 accusations of fraud, deceit and corruption, he had the money, and that is 
 what counts. Consequently his doubtful methods went unquestioned, and 
 his affairs with women scarcely produced a ripple. I am not worrying 
 over Jim Nicholas; he got about what was coming to him. But Percy 
 Carroll is puzzling me. . From the most even-tempered, well-balanced man in 
 the world he has developel into one of irritability of temper and as restless 
 as a woman in love." 
 
 Rose. "Young Arnold is giving Mr. Percy a great deal of trouble. I 
 was never so disappointed in a young fellow in my life. When he first 
 came here I thought I had never seen a sweeter face or met with a 
 more genial nature. Now he is drinking nearly all the while and is 
 dreadfully morose; in fact, at times acts like he is insane." 
 
 Tom. "Yes, he is off on another spree now, and while that of course is 
 troubling Percy, on account of his friendship for the boy's family, that 
 in itself is not sufficient to upset him as he is. Percy knows how to meet 
 responsibility, without losing his poise. But lately — well, he is just not 
 himself and I do not understand it." 
 
 Rose. "I think the solution to that is — Ite is in Jove." 
 
 Tom. "In love? That is just like a woman. Let a fellow get out of 
 sorts, it may be his stomach, liver or any vital organ, but she puts it down 
 as love. Now, I daresay you think that Blanche Van Dyke's sudden de- 
 parture for New York, leaving the general public connecting her name 
 with that of Jim Nicholas, has upset Percy because people were foolish 
 enough to believe that he was in love with her before her marriage." 
 
 Rose. "Not so fast. Who is connecting Percy Avith Blanche? No one 
 but you that I know of. You, in your anxiety about him, have been afraid 
 that such might be the case. And, just like a man, you refute the charge 
 before it is made." 
 
 Tom. "Then, in heaven's name, who do you think he is in love with?" 
 
 Rose. "Lucile, and if you were not as blind as a mole you could have 
 seen it for sometime." 
 
 Tom (in utter astonishment). "Lucile! Oh. that is ridiculous. She — " 
 (Enter Amanda.) 
 
 Amanda. "I am sorry to have kept you waiting, but since Lucile has 
 
 26 — Winnowing 
 
taken up these absurd philanthropic ideas of hers Ave Iiave so little social 
 life that I am not always ready to see company." 
 
 Rose. "Where is Lucile." 
 
 Amai^da. "She went off early this morning to the Home for Young 
 Women. You know that is her hobby now. And she is riding it with 
 might and main." 
 
 To3i. "She seems to have lost all interest in society." 
 
 Amanda. "Yes, I cannot get her to go anywhere since her father's 
 affliction." (Whispering.) "Of course James' condition is harder on me 
 than it is on Lucile. I can scarcely stand to be where he is, it affects me 
 so painfulh', but I feel we owe it to ourselves and our friends to make an 
 effort to be cheerful." 
 
 Rose (sympatheticaly). "How is Mr. Nicholas?" 
 
 Amaistda. "There is no change in him; the doctors say he will never, 
 perhaps, be any better, but will in all probability live for years. Oh, it's 
 dreadful, for a man to be cut down in this Avay. And James Avas never 
 sick in his life." (Enter Lucile.) 
 
 LuciUE. "Good morning, Mr. Gilroy, and Rose" (shaking hands), "I 
 am so glad to see you. I haA^e had such a busy morning." 
 
 Rose. "You seem to be kept pretty busy all the Avhile Avith your 
 Young Woman's Home. How is it getting along?" 
 
 Lucile. "Splendidly. We had a contribution yesterday of five thou- 
 sand dollars. Isn't that fine? And so many people are becoming inter- 
 ested in the Avork." 
 
 Tom. "You are doing a great AVork, and I belieA-e you really enjoy it 
 more than society." 
 
 Lucile. "There is no comparison. It is perfectly glorious to feel 
 that you are doing something for others." 
 
 AMA?fDA. "It is most unsatisfactory to find that after you have 
 spent yourself and money in trying to help people, how little appreciation 
 they have." 
 
 Lucile. "Oh, mother, if you could just see the change in some of those 
 girls you Avould ask for no greater compensation. Girls Avho came there 
 careworn and hag-gard go out to Avork Avith bright, happy faces and return 
 eagerly in the evening to a good, comfortable home. We have noAV thirty 
 Avorking girls Avho can Ua'C sheltered and protected lives." 
 
 Rose. "It is a great Avork, and Avomen of money can do a great deal 
 in that direction, but it requires money." 
 
 Lucile. "Yes, it requires money, but unfortunately feAV Avomen of 
 means are interested, they have so many other things to do Avith their 
 money. Why, the other day I asked a young Avoman to help us, one Avho 
 spends imlimited money on herself, and her reply was that she could not 
 afford it. And you ought to have seen her face Avhen I suggested that 
 she might deny herself one costume during the season, the price of Avhich 
 would keep a poor girl in the home for a year." 
 
 Amanda. "Lucile, I think it Avas exceedingly impertinent in you to 
 take such a liberty." • 
 
 Lucile. "She looked like she thought so, too, mother. And her man- 
 ner could not have been more ofl"ensi\'e if I had insulted her." (Enter 
 •the Captain.) 
 
 Captain. "Good morning." 
 
 All. "Good morning. Howdy do, Captain," etc. 
 
 Amanda. "William, have you seen Percy Carroll this morning?" He 
 promised to come here and go over some papers for me." 
 
 Captain. "Yes, he told me he Avould be here after a Avhile. He has 
 been pretty busy." 
 
 Winnowing — 27 
 
na 21 mk 
 
 Tom. "Not in his office. I have scarcely seen liim for days." 
 
 Amanda. "Do you know, I tliink Percy is upset over Blanche Van 
 Dyke's going away. They said he was madly in love with her liefore her 
 marriage." 
 
 (Tom looks at Rose. The Captain is covertly watching Lucile, who 
 starts, then turns away to hide her emotion.) 
 
 Tom. "Why is it you women always have to get a fellow in love? 
 Now, Rose — " (Suddenly remembering himself, he stops, confused.) 
 
 Rose (aside to Tom). "Has sense enough to keep her own counsel 
 in public." 
 
 Captain ( still watching Lucile ) . "Well, Blanche is a very attractive 
 woman. But here comes Percy." (Enter Percy.) 
 
 Percy. "Good morning." 
 
 All. "Good morning." (Lucile remains standing with her hand on 
 the mantel. As she returns his salutation and while Percy looks intently 
 at her, she seems very indifferent. 
 
 Pekcy. "Mrs. Nicholas, you must pardon me. I could not get here 
 any sooner." 
 
 Amanda. "You have not inconvenienced me in the least. I want to see 
 William privately for a few moments. Then you may join us in the 
 library. William, can you go with me now?" 
 
 Captain. "Certainly." (Exit Amanda and the Captain.) 
 
 Rose. "Tom, we must be going." (She joins Lucile, and they begin 
 to converse.) 
 
 Tom. "Yes, I will be with you in a moment." (Turning to Percy.) 
 "Is young Arnold off again?" 
 
 Percy. "Yes, I was up Avith him all night, and the doctor has just 
 succeeded in getting him quiet and to sleep under the influence of a drug." 
 
 Tom. "Do you think the fellow's mind is affected, or is it simply 
 whisky ?" 
 
 Percy. "His mind is undoubtedly unbalanced. I think the whisky 
 drinking is more the result of his mental condition, but of course it makes 
 him worse." 
 
 Tom. "What are you going to do with him?" 
 
 Percy. "We will have to put him in a sanitarium for treatment. I 
 have been talking to the Captain about it this morning." 
 
 Rose. "Come on, Tom." 
 
 Tom. "Will see you later, Percy. So long. Good-bye, Lucile; Rose is 
 always in a hurry." 
 
 Lucile. "Good-bye, Mr. Gilroy. You ought to discipline Rose." 
 
 Tom. "I have never been able to get the whip handle away from her." 
 (Exit Tom and Rose.) 
 
 Percy ( approaching Lucile ) . "Did you get my flowers this morning ? 
 I was so sorry I could not join you, but it was utterly impossible." 
 
 Lucile (with unnatural manner). "Yes, I got the flowers." 
 
 Percy. "Lucile, what is the matter ?" ( Anxiously. ) "Something has 
 gone wrong. I felt it the moment I entered the room. You are not your- 
 self this morning. Won't you tell me what it is ?" 
 
 Lucile (petulantly). "Nothing has gone wrong. I suppose I am just 
 a red-headed, bad-tempered child." 
 
 Percy. "You are a very beautiful woman and in my opinion almost 
 perfect." 
 
 Lucile (with increased irritation, almost in tears). "No, you look 
 upon me as a mere child, and treat me as you would a badly spoiled one. I 
 am no longer a child." 
 
 (Taking her hand, which she tries to pull away, but he holds it 
 firmly. ) 
 
 Percy. "No, you are a woman, but just now rather an unreasonable 
 one. You are evidently angry, and with me. Now, won't you tell me the 
 cause? Perhaps I may be able to right matters." 
 
 Lucile (in tearful voice). "That is just the way you used to talk to 
 
 28 — Winnowing 
 
me when I was a child (with rising anger). "You do not talk to Mrs. 
 Van Dyke that way." 
 
 Peect (in astonishment). "Mrs. Van Dyke?" (Lucile nods her head, 
 Percy's face brightens perceptibly.) "Lucile, is it possible you can be 
 jealous of Blanche Van Dyke?" 
 
 Lucile (in anger). "No I am not jealous. Why should I care any- 
 thing about what you think of Blanche Van Dyke?" 
 
 (Kissing her hand in rapture.) 
 
 Percy. "Lucile, tell me that I may hope that you can love me thus; 
 that you can be jealous of another. Oh, my darling, I have struggled with 
 myself days and nights, scarcely daring to hope, and too much of a coward 
 to put it to the test. Lucile, never did man love woman as I do you. JMay 
 I tell you so?" 
 
 Lucile (looking shyly up at him). "That's what I've been waiting 
 for." 
 
 (Catching her in his arms and drawing her tenderly to him.) 
 
 Peecy. "My darling, I have been telling you, by my every action, for 
 years, that I loved you. Lucile, I have loved you ever since you were a 
 little child. Your baby face, your little fingers when you used to nestle 
 close to me, unlocked a secret corner of my heart that no woman ever 
 touched before nor since. And the memory of your dear little voice, as 
 you used to say, 'Mr. Percy, I can trust you,' has stood between me and 
 temptation oftener than you will ever know. My darling, you are the one 
 and only love of my life." 
 
 Lucile. "Do you love me better than you did Blanche ?" 
 
 Percy. "I never loved Blanche. I never told her so. I have never 
 loved any woman but you. You are the first and will be the last. Are 
 you satisfied?" 
 
 Lucile. "Yes." 
 
 Percy. "And you love me?" 
 
 Lucile. "With all my heart." 
 
 Peecy. "And will you be my wife?" 
 
 Lucile. "Yes." 
 
 Imprinting a long and loving kiss, her arms steal about his neck. 
 
 Percy. "My wife. I wonder, little one, if you realize what this means 
 to me? My darling, my own. More than all else in the world. Indeed, 
 you are my world in which my whole being is centered." (Kisses her 
 again and again.) 
 
 Lucile. "Your arm about me and your kisses on my lips has awakened 
 in my soul a joy unspeakable. Oh, I am so happy." (As she nestles closer 
 to him and her head sinks on his breast.) 
 
 Percy. "My darling, my wife. You have made me the happiest man 
 on earth." 
 
 The Captain appears at the door. 
 
 Captain. "Well, you look it. But old men are deaf and blind, so 
 don't mind me." 
 
 (Lucile in confusion tries to pull away, but with his arm still about 
 her Percy turns to the Captain, smiling.) 
 
 Percy. "Captain, congratulate me. Lucile has promised to be my 
 wife." 
 
 Captain. "With my whole heart, I congratulate you both." (Taking 
 a hand of each, and placing that of Lucile's in Percy's, very earnestly. 
 "Whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. And you, 
 my children, have renewed my faith in the old adage, that marriages are 
 made in heaven. And now, Lucile, I, too, must claim a kiss." (Kisses her.) 
 "I am sorry to interrupt you, Percy, but Amanda is impatiently awaiting 
 you in the library." 
 
 Percy. "Yes, I will go now, but I shall return shortly. You will 
 be here?" (The last directed at Lucile.) 
 
 Lucile. "Yes." 
 
 Percy. "And I am going to tell your mother." 
 
 Winnowinff — 29 
 
Lucirjc. "Certainly." 
 
 Caj'J'aIjV. "J have my back turned; you can kiss her and go along." 
 
 Percy. "Thanks, Captain." (Slipping liis arm around Lucile, kisses 
 her, whispers.) "Sweetheart." (Exit Percy.) 
 
 Captain (with his back still turned to Lucile). "All over? May 1 
 look?" 
 
 LuciLK (still looking after Percy). "You are a humbug. (Turning 
 to him.) "But come and sit down here by me." (They take seats.) 
 
 Caj'tatn. "Now, tell me, how did you manage it?" 
 
 LucfJ.E. "Manage what?" . 
 
 Captain. "To make Percy propose?" 
 
 Lucile. "Oh, he didn't require much urging." 
 
 (Malinda appears at the open door with umbrella in hand. To the 
 butJer in the hall.) 
 
 Mamnjja. "Here, Robert, take this umbrella and leave it on the out- 
 side; it's wet an' I can't pack it in here. Good-day." (Shaking her skirts 
 as she enters. Lvxcile goes forward and kisses her." 
 
 Captain. "Good morning, Mrs. Jones? Is it raining?" 
 
 Malinda. "Well, it wus, but it's deceased now. My, what a time I'v 
 had in gitten here. I'v stood, on the corner fur a haf hour watchin' thim 
 cars go pro an' con befor tli' right one come 'long. I could'r walked, but 
 the streets air perfect lullabies." 
 
 Lucile. "How is Uncle Billy? Still busy in the Legislature?" 
 
 Malinda. 'Billy's pert 'nough, but thim asinine dooties of that Legis- 
 later is too much for him. Why, he talks in his sleep 'bout bein' laid 
 on' the table, cau-cuss-in, a'journeying, an' all sieli things." 
 
 Captain. "Well, it will soon be over; I believe they are to adjourn 
 in a few days." 
 
 Malinda. "An' glad I am. We'll git out of that hotel an' back to 
 home, where we'll know Avhat we're eatin'. I'd ruther be out feedin' my 
 turkeys an' chickens any day 'stid of settin' up in Sunday close an' hearin' 
 people talk 'bout peoi^le Avhat I don't know nothin' 'bout. I'v got 'nough 
 hotel to do me the rest of my days. Lucile, how's Jeems K. ?" 
 
 Lucile. "Father is just the same. You know there is little change in 
 him from day to day, but here he comes now." (A negro man wheeling 
 James in an invalid chair enters. James' face is blank and his eyes star- 
 ing; he mumbles incoherently and fumbles aimlessly with his hands. Lucile 
 goes over to him and adjusts his cushions, arranges his collar, smooths 
 his hair, etc. James looks up at her and begins to mumble and cry. Lucile 
 reaches for a toy and gives it to him. He takes it and begins to play with 
 ■ it. She turns away with a deep sigh ) . 
 
 Lucile. "How pitiful. If anybody had told me a year ago that I 
 could go through with this I would not have believed it." 
 
 Malinda. "1"ou air young, Lucile, an' young folks can throw off 
 trouble. I never thought the time would come when I could thank God 
 that he had took Pa and Ma away from me, but I do. I thank him ever 
 day. This would'er broke their dear old hearts. An' they died so happy 
 an' proud of Jeems K. Jist to think it ain't no use to speak to him, he 
 don'e'even know me." (She wipes her eyes.) 
 
 James begins to cry again. Lucile goes to him. 
 
 Lucile. "I wonder what he wants? Get some water, Robert. Per- 
 haps that is it." 
 
 RoBEET. "He has had water, ma'am, jist before I brought him in. He's 
 been powerful restless all day. I'd better wheel him; that quiets him 
 some." 
 
 Lucile. "It is about time for his nourishment. Take him in the 
 dining room and try that, and if he is still restless let me know." 
 Robert. "Yes, ma'am." (Exit Robert, rolling the chair.) 
 Captain. "Lucile, t will go and look after him." 
 Lucile. "Thank you. Cousin William." (Exit the Captain.) 
 
 30 — Winnowing 
 
Maliis^da (looking sorrowfully after them). "Lucile, I wish I could 
 help you, but I don't know what to do." 
 
 Lucile. "There is nothing you can do, dear. We simply have to 
 guess at his wants, and Robert is good and faitliful." 
 
 Malinda. "Lucile, you shore air good to him." 
 
 Lucile. "Aunt Lindy, I am simply doing my duty. It is a great 
 sorrow to me that I cannot love father as I used to. I feel that I am so 
 dreadfully wicked and hard-hearted, but when my respect died my love 
 seemed to die with it. Today, even, when I have been so happy, at the 
 thought of his double life, something seems to clutch me right here" 
 (placing her hand over her heart), "and a feeling of oppression comes over 
 me that is sickening and overwhelming and thus it is all the while." 
 
 Malinda. "An' I reckon lots a' daughters would feel the same way, 
 if they knowed their fathers. Of course it 'tain't no comfort; but this air a 
 wicked world. An' men ain't held to account 'nough. I ain't got no pa- 
 tience with this thing of there bein' one law for men an' somethin' different 
 for women. God didn't turn Eve out of the Garden of Eden an' tell Adam 
 he was excused. If there wus the same doctrines held 'bout men what 
 goes wrong as w-e has for women, the men wouldn't be so keerless 'bout 
 their care-«c^-tors." 
 
 Lucile. "Yes, this thing of there being one moral standard for 
 woman and another for man makes me sick." 
 
 Malixda. "Honey, men ain't got no moral standin', it's all for the 
 women folks. Why, them same men what spends their lives sinnin' agin 
 women, is the most parsimonious Avhen it comes to pickin' a wife. Notlnn' 
 won't do them but the most vurtuous of women, an', strange to say, the 
 vurtuous women takes 'em." 
 
 Lucile. "Aunt Lindy, I have a surprise for you." 
 
 IMalixda. "It'll take somethin' powerful oncommon to shake me up 
 after all the curius an' strange things I'v saw an' hearn lately." 
 
 Lucile. "I am going to be married." 
 
 Malinda. "Good Lord! Who to?" 
 
 Lucile. "Mr. Percy." 
 
 "Malinda. "What*! Percy Carroll? Well, I did think that was one 
 spiritous friendship. Who would 'er thought that he was thinkin' of gittin' 
 spliced to you all this time? Why, Lucile, he's too old for you. He is — " 
 (Lucile throws her arms around her neck and kisses her.) 
 
 Lucile. "No, he is not too old, either. And I love him. I love him. 
 Oh, I love him dearly." 
 
 Malinda. "Well, that's all what counts,. an' if you love him that way 
 I reckon a few years don't make no difference. An' he is a good man, an 
 you might go further an' do worser." 
 
 Lucile. "If I looked the wide world over I could not find a man who 
 so exactly suited my ideal. Whv, Aunt Lindv, I do not believe he has a 
 fault." 
 
 Malinda. "Oh, go 'long with your foolishness; he's got faults, an' 
 plenty uf 'em. You ain't huntin' fur no perfect man. fur if you wus to 
 happen to run cross one he'd find this world a mighty lonesome place. An' 
 I don't want you to be disapinted in your married life. Now, you lis'en 
 to me. Don't you go an git married thinkin' that Percy Carroll is jist a 
 little god. He's a man. An' when he sets down to eat, if the biscuits 
 ain't hot, an' the coffee is cold an' weak, an' the meat is tough, if he 
 swears a little don't you go oft" an' cry an' git the notion in your head that 
 you'v married a brute. You jist remember you'v married a man, that's all. 
 An' if he wants to read the newspaper in his shirtsleeves so as to be 
 comfortable sometimes, even to smoke his old pipe in the house, don't you 
 go an' raise a rumpus 'bout smellin' up the house, an' looking onstylish. 
 You jist let him lone, an' air out when he's gone. But when he's to home 
 you jist make him comfortable, an' feed him well, an' make yovu'self agree- 
 able an' look pretty, an' he'll never find out that you ain't n anf>el ; but 
 if you go to sloppin' round the house an' naggin him 'bout little things an' 
 
 Winnowing — 31 
 
rCB 2/ 191i 
 
 givin' him vitiials what he can't eat, he may go lopjain' off down the road 
 after some other woman what ain't so vurtuous maybe, but is more agree- 
 able, fur them's men's ways all over." 
 
 LuciLE (laughing). "Oh, Aunt Lindy, if all men are so material as 
 that I shall see to it that we always have a good cook in the kitchen." 
 
 Malinda. "Well, you'd better, fur I tell you the cook is the most 
 fluent piece of furniture 'bout a man's home, but I'd better git to darnin' 
 them stockin's fur you." 
 
 LuciLE. "What a dear you are. You will find a basket full, up in my 
 room waiting for you." 
 
 Malinda. "H'm. Who's goin' to darn Percy's socks, I'd like to know." 
 LuciLE. "Oh, I'm going to take some lessons from you. I'll be up 
 there in a little while." 
 
 Malinda. "I reckon after you'v took another lesson in love-makin* 
 you'll be ready to larn somethin' useful." (Exit Malinda.) 
 
 Lucile sits in pleasant reverie for a few moments, when she is aroused 
 by Carroll . Arnold slipping quietly into the room. Carroll's hair is 
 disheveled, his- eyes wild looking, his manner nervous and unnatural. 
 
 Lucile (startled). "Oh, you took me so by surprise that I actually 
 jumped." (She laughs somewhat nervously.) 
 
 Caekoll (coming very close and peering into her face). "Hush. I 
 do not want any one to know I am here. I have been waiting to find you 
 alone." 
 
 Lucile (frightened by his expression and manner, draws back). "Why 
 did you want to see me alone? Is there anything I can do for you?" 
 
 (Carroll still peering into her face, with a wild, crazy expression in 
 his eyes. Lucile, thoroughly frightened, tries to move away. He catches 
 her violently by the Avrist. ) 
 
 Carroll. "Do not make a sound; if you do I shall have to kill you' 
 at once. I tried to hate you, too, but I could not. You are innocent of any 
 wrong, and you, too, have suffered. It would be cowardly in me to take my 
 own life, and leave you here helpless and defenseless. I have been walking 
 through hell, and little devils have been mocking me. Do you hear that? 
 Bastard, bastard! My mother, oh God, my mother. But I struck the 
 man dead who ruined her life. And now I am going to save you from 
 her cruel fate. You know you told me who the man was; but for you I 
 should not have known him. Ah, but- didn't he shrink and cower before 
 me?" (He laughs wildly. Then draws a pistol.) "You must not be afraid 
 to die; life is not worth the living." 
 
 The Captain slips quietly into the room and up behind Carroll and 
 grabs the pistol before he is aware of his presence. The Captain dis- 
 charges the pistol in the air, then throws it from him and grabs Carroll, 
 who is startled and lets go of Lucile, who reels back. Percy, the negro but- 
 ler, Amanda and Malinda rush in from different directions. The butler to 
 the aid of the Captain takes hold of Carroll, who is wildly gesticulating. 
 Percy rushes to Lucile and takes her in his arms. 
 Percy. "Oh, my God! Are yoli hurt?" 
 Lucile clings hysterically to him. 
 Lucile. "No." 
 
 Amanda. "What is the matter? Is Lucile hurt?" 
 Malinda. "What's happened? Who shot that pistol?" 
 Captain. "Nobody is hurt; I shot the pistol to bring help. This boy 
 is crazy. We must get him away from here." 
 
 Carroll. "No, no. I will not go. Don't you see I must kill her, 
 then myself?" (As the Captain, aidexl by the butler, takes him from the 
 stage, Amanda and Malinda sink into chairs, nervous and frightened. Percy 
 with his arms still about Lucile, whose head is on his breast.) 
 Percy. "I thank God that you are safe, my darling." 
 
 32 — Winnowing 
 
One copy del. to Cat. Div. 
 
 FEB 2? 1911 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 017 400 048 7 i