SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 Wert 38th St., New York GOLDEN DAYS EY TOLER and MARION SHORT CENTRAL CIRCULATION BOOKSTACKS The person charging this material is re¬ sponsible for its renewal or its return to the library from which it was borrowed on or before the Latest Date stamped below. You may be charged a minimum fee of $75.00 for each lost book. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for disciplinary action and may result in dismissal from the University. TO RENEW CALL TELEPHONE CENTER, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN DEC 1 61998 When renewing by phone, write new due date below previous due date. L162 GOLDEN DAYS A COMEDY IN FOUR ACTS BY SIDNEY TOLER and MARION SHORT CAUTION.—Professionals and amateurs are hereby warned that “GOLDEN DAYS/’ being fully protected under the copyright laws of the United States and Great Britain, is subject to a royalty and anyone presenting the play with¬ out the consent of the authors or their authorized agents will be liable to the penalties by law provided. Applica¬ tion for professional and amateur acting rights must be made to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City, N. Y. New York SAMUEL FRENCH Publisher 28-30 West 38th Street London SAMUEL FRENCH, Ltd. 26 Southampton Street STRAND Copyright, 1919, by Samuel French (Under the title of “The Golden Age”) (Copyright, 1919, in Canada by Samuel French) Rewritten and Revised, 1921, by Sidney Toler and Marion Short Copyright, 1922, by Samuel French All Rights Reserved Especial notice should be taken that the possession of this book without a valid contract for production first having been obtained from the publisher, confers no right or license to professionals or amateurs to produce the play publicly or in private for gain or charity. In its present form this play is dedicated to the reading public only, and no performance, representation, produc¬ tion, recitation, or public reading may be given except by special arrangement with Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York. This play may be presented by amateurs upon payment of a royalty of Twenty-Five Dollars for each perform¬ ance, payable to Samuel French, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York, one week before the date when the play is given. Whenever the play is produced the following notice must appear on all programs, printing and advertising tor the play: “Produced by special arrangement with Samuel French of New York.” Attention is called to the penalty provided by law for any infringement of the author's rights, as follows: “Section 4966:—Any person publicly performing or rep¬ resenting any dramatic or musical composition for which copyright has been obtained, without the consent of the proprietor of said dramatic or musical composition, or his heirs and assigns, shall be liable for damages thereof, such damages, in all cases to be assessed at such sum, not less than one hundred dollars for the first and fifty dol¬ lars for every subsequent performance, as to the court shall appear to be just. If the unlawful performance and representation be wilful and for profit, such person or persons shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon con¬ viction shall be imprisoned for a period not exceeding one year.”—U. S. Revised Statutes: Title 60, Chap. 3. rfou 4§CTroT fa ff77 CAST OF CHARACTERS Lloyd Henderson “Teddy” Farnum William Barclay Richard Stanhope > Charlie Mason { Edgar Moon Frank Montgomery Mrs. Drexel Kirkland Elaine Jewett Trelle Webb Patty Ellison i Annabelle Larsh Of New York's social 400 Felice, Mrs. Kirkland's French maid. Sarah Applegate Slissy Betsy Scroggins Mrs. John Simmonds Mary Anne Simmonds NOTE.—The above cast may be shortened appreciably by distributing the lines assigned to the lesser char¬ acters of Moon, Montgomery and Annabelle Larsh among the other members of the company. SYNOPSIS OF SCENES ACT I Sitting room in the Simmonds’ home, Farmdale, Conn. Spring, 1917. (The Bud.) ACT II Parlor of the new Farmdale Hotel, Farmdale. Same evening. (The Blossom) ACT III An upstairs sitting room in Mrs. Kirkland’s home, New York. Summer, 1917. (The full blown Rose.) ACT IV Same as Act I. Spring, 1919. (The perfume of Romance.) 3 GOLDEN DAYS Scene: Sitting-room of the Simmonds' home. The furniture is largely of the old-fashioned horse¬ hair variety, with mahogany tables, cabinets, etc. Family portraits in oval and other frames on the wall. An inherited assortment of bric-a-brac on the mantelpiece, c., also a clock and an old to¬ bacco-Jar (opaque). The tobacco-jar is a relic of Mr. Simmonds and is necessary to the ac¬ tion of the play. At extreme right stands an old melodeon. Against wall at l. a cabinet for silverware, etc. Old-fashioned oil lamps rest on both organ and cabinet. Mahogany tables have been carefully placed at R. and L. to receive emergency tea-room guests from the porch out¬ side. The porch is visible through French win¬ dows (made in three sections) which round the corner of the room up l., and through these windows the sign <( Tca Room” is visible on a post. On the porch may be glimpsed a rustic tea-table and chair. Above the organ at r. is a small stand containing telephone book with wall telephone close at hand. Oblique in r. is a door to kitchen quarters. Through this door when open a glimpse of practical stairway is seen. At l. double doors lead to hallway and front door (which is not seen). Armchairs are at R. 5 6 GOLDEN DAYS of table at r, and at l. of table at l., with small chairs on inner side . On the tables are fancy covers. A small stand with flower-vase is up near mantel-piece. An old-fashioned piano stool stands in front of the organ, and one or two small chairs are conveniently placed. The whole effect of the room is tidy, but both wall¬ paper and furnishings are somewhat outworn, as is the carpet on the floor. Time : The afternoon of a warm, sunny day in June, 1917. Discovered: Mrs. Simmonds, Betsy and Miss Slissy. Mrs. Simmonds and Betsy have their sleeves rolled up and are dusting the furniture and putting things to rights, Mrs. Simmonds with great energy, Betsy lackadaisically. It is at once apparent that they are mistress and Miss Slissy, village milliner and dressmaker of uncertain years, occupies armchair at r., her sewing-bag on table at her side, a hat in her hands which she is trimming rather gaudily. Her dress expresses a somewhat ludicrous compro¬ mise between painstaking economy and a pas¬ sion for the-fad-of-the-moment in style. Mrs. Simmonds. (Continuing a conversation al¬ ready begun) Of course Fm tickled to death, but she gave me no warning at all, just telegraphed this morning she’d be here this afternoon. I’d calculated to house-clean a whole week before she came, so’s everything would be spick and span. Miss Slissy. (Fusses with needle and thread) Dust is terrible this time of year, all owin’ to them automobiles. No sooner does it settle from one than here comes another. GOLDEN DAYS 7 Mrs. Simmonds. (Nervously anxious to rid her¬ self of Miss Slissy) I thought you said, Sairey, you could finish that hat in ten minutes. That must have been two hours ago. So you’ll excuse me for goin’ right ahead, 'won’t you ? Miss Slissy. (Refusing to take a hint) Cer¬ tainly, don’t mind me. I didn’t s’pose I’d set the afternoon, but sometimes things take longer than you calculate they will, like this hat for Mary Anne. My, but it’s cute! Sometimes I don’t know which I’m best at, millinery or dressmakin’. Guess it must be six of one and half-dozen of the other. Now that chick dress I made over for the station agent’s sister-in-law- Betsy. (Her speech is a drawl, and she smites lazily at furniture with a dust cloth) How “made over”? Miss Slissy. (Heedless of a nervous exclama¬ tion from Mrs. SimmondsJ Well, I brought the full part to the top, and the waist-band narrow part down to the bottom to save material- Betsy. Was it stylish? Miss Slissy. Stylish? The first time she tried to step onto a trolley car in it, three men almost got run over. Mrs. Simmonds. Betsy, stop talkin’, now, and carry out that scrap-basket. (Brings vase from small stand and sets it on table l.) Miss Slissy, my sister’ll be here most any time now. Miss Slissy. Well, you ain’t askin’ me to go home, be you? Mrs. Simmonds. (Weakening) Of course not. (Goes over to organ and dusts.) (Betsy exits r. with waste-basket.) Miss Slissy. I want to see what she’s wear- 8 GOLDEN DAYS in’. In my business I have to keep up with the New York styles right along. (Gazing at hat.) There, that’s finished. Where’d Mary Anne go? Mrs. Simmonds. She’s gathering some lilacs for decoration. They’re her aunt’s favorite flower. Miss Slissy. ’Course it’s natural to fix up for rich relatives. Mrs. Simmonds. (Resents the idea) We’d do it just the same if she didn’t have a penny. Miss Slissy. Well, I ain’t sayin’ you wouldn’t. Mrs. Simmonds. Mary Anne simply worships her Aunt Maria. Betsy! (Crosses to c. Goes to door r.) That’s the laziest mortal that ever drew the breath of life. (Calls again) Betsy! (She opens the door R.J What do you mean by sitting there as if there was nothing to do but gaze at the woodshed ? Betsy. (Lazily enters rJ I wasn’t gazing at the woodshed. Mrs. Simmonds. Then what were you looking at? Betsy. The hired man. Mrs. Simmonds. What’s the matter with him? Betsy. He’s got new boots. Mrs. Simmonds. I suppose if I told you to dust the hired man, for once in your life you’d stick to your work. Betsy. Ye-yes-m! Mrs. Simmonds. (To c.) He’s the only article you seem to be able to keep your mind on. Miss Slissy. Well, he is sort of good lookin’, at a distance. Mrs. Simmonds. (Dusting mantelpiece) And the further the distance, the better looking he gets. (To BetsyJ Wipe off that table! (Points l.) (Betsy barely stops at table , but goes on and wipes Golden Days” See page 11 •4 V GOLDEN DAYS 9 the chair l. by window, her attention caught by something outside.) Miss Slissy. Have many customers to-day? Mrs. Simmonds. Some, but most of the trade comes Saturdays. Miss Slissy. How d’ye suppose your rich sister will take it, you runnin’ a tea-shop? Most wealthy folks is kind of high and mighty. Mrs. Simmonds. (Comes down to table l.) Don’t let that worry you, Miss Slissy. My sister’s too fine a woman to have any false pride. (She lets the remainder of her pique out on Betsy ) Land sakes, Betsy, don’t keep on rubbin’ as if that leg had a case of rheumatism. Change off to the back. (Betsy slowly attacks back of chair, still gazing out of window.) Miss Slissy. Is she cornin’ for quite a stay 1 Mrs. Simmonds. (Dusting here and there) Yes. She’s tired and needs a rest. Miss Slissy. Shouldn’t think she'd get tired— what with three hired girls. They say she don’t even go to market herself. Betsy. (At window l.) And she wears silk nightgowns, silk all over. I saw ’em once and felt ’em. They’re nice and crawly to your fingers. Miss Slissy. Mercy me! Reminds me of cater¬ pillars ! (Shudders.) Mrs. Simmonds. (Pointing to window curtains that have been knotted up to keep them out of the dust) Betsy, let down them curtains, and dust off the mantel ornaments. They look like the dirt had been on ’em since Noah occupied the Ark. (Betsy slowly lets down curtains, her attention out¬ side.) 10 GOLDEN DAYS Miss Slissy. Such Babylonian extravagance! Silk night gowns! I thought nobody but moving- picture actresses wore them things. Mrs. Simmonds. I’m sure a body could sleep just as well in silk ones as they could in the others. Miss Slissy. (Virtuously) I wear seersucker. They don’t even have to be ironed. Mrs. Simmonds. (Brings vase from mantel to table lJ Well, it’s her money and I guess she can do with it as she feels like. (Notices Betsy at l., staring out of window.) Betsy, what in the world are you starin’ at? Betsy. (Turning regretfully from windozv) The hired man. Mrs. Simmonds. Good land! Is the hired man on all sides of the house at once? Betsy. (Moves toward door l.) Shall I go out and see ? Mrs. Simmonds. No, you’ll not. Come away from that door. (To Miss SlissyJ That girl’s got no more sense of humor than a guinea hen. (To BetsyJ Go out in the kitchen and scour up the pans I left in the sink; and if you find the hired man on that side of the house, ask him to take off his boots for you to put on the organ for an orna¬ ment to look at. Betsy. (With unusual alacrity) Yes, um. (Exits at r.J Mrs. Simmonds. I do believe she thought I meant it. She’s got no more sense of humor than— (Throws up her hands in despair.) (Mary Anne enters through window at l. She carries a huge armful of lilacs and comes back of table at ,lJ Mary Anne. Here they are, Mother. I picked GOLDEN DAYS ii the prettiest ones I could find. See, Miss Slissy? Miss Slissy. Umph hm. Here’s your hat, and if I do say it myself, it’s one of my swellest crea¬ tions. (She holds it up for inspection and Mary Anne, laying most of the lilacs on table, crosses to her, looking at the hat doubtfully.) Mrs. Simmonds. (l.c.) Don’t you like it, Mary Anne ? Mary Anne. Y-es. (Holds hat out and regards it critically) But isn’t it just a little—enthusiastic? Miss Slissy. Variety of flowers and fruits is all the style—the gayer the stylisher. And it just matches your new dress. You’re going to look grand in it at the party to-night. Mary Anne. (Trying to like the hat) Which is -the front? Miss Slissy. It’s reversible—that’s the latest. Cornin’ or goin’, you’ll look just the same. Try it on. (Mary Anne lifts hat almost to her head, then her courage fails.) Mary Anne. I’ll try it on when I’m dressed. Won’t you have a posy? Miss Slissy. (Accepts the spray of lilacs Mary Anne offers) Much obliged. They say flowers bring out your complexion if you have any, and I always did pride myself on having considerable. Mary Anne. (Putting lilacs in vases on table at l.) Dear Aunt Maria! I can hardly realize that in a few minutes she’ll be here, right in this room with us! Miss Slissy. Well, goodness knows I should think your ma would, after all the fussin’ around she’s been doin’. 12 GOLDEN DAYS Mrs. Simmonds. Do you suppose she’ll come in her automobile, Mary Anne? Mary Anne. I hope so. I’d just adore riding around in it. Miss Slissy. (Slowly putting thread, etc., hack into sewing-hag) There’s a whole crowd of city folks expected at the hotel to the dance to-night. Billy Barclay is bringing some of ’em in his motor car. Mrs. Simmonds. (Snaps, turning on Miss Slis¬ sy ) Yes, Miss Slissy, we knew it. Miss Slissy. And that Miss Elaine Jewett who was here two summers ago—she’s with ’em. Mary Anne. (To r.c.J Elaine? (Mrs. Simmonds glances at Mary Anne appre¬ hensively.) Miss Slissy. Yes. She and her folks are going to live right in the Barclay cottage cause Mr. and Mrs. Barclay ain’t cornin’ down this summer. They say young Billy’s just crazy about Elaine. Mary Anne. Honestly, Miss Slissy, I’m not a bit interested in the Barclays or the Jewetts. Miss Slissy. Well. I’m surprised! Remember¬ in’ Billy used to be kind of sweet on you, Mary Anne, I thought maybe you’d like to know what’s been- Mrs. Simmonds. (Indignantly, down c.) That’s been more than a year ago, Sairy Applegate Slissy, and neither me nor Mary Anne is caring to have you talk about it.' (Takes vase of lilacs from Mary Anne, placing it on mantel.) Mary Anne. (Proudly) Miss Slissy may talk all she likes, Mother, as far as I’m concerned: why shouldn’t she? Miss Slissy. Why, Mrs. Simmonds, you sur- GOLDEN DAYS 13 prise me. Flyin’ off the handle like that! You ain’t got nothin’ serious against Billy Barclay, -have you ? Mrs. Simmonds. (c. Her voice trembling) Nothing except- Mary Anne. (Warningly) Mother! Mrs. Simmonds. (Impulse overcoming her) Except I don’t think he’s quite as honorable as some young men I’ve known. (Works down to c.) There, I will say that much, Mary Anne, even though I do know Miss Slissy’ll be sure to repeat it. (Moves to l.) Miss Slissy. Not honorable? Um! Mrs. Simmonds. (Dusting furiously at cabinet, extreme l.J Dear me, I’d like to get rid of this dust, and—some other things I could mention. Miss Slissy. I can remember that barn dance at the Hillsby’s, and Mary Anne wearing that pretty white and blue dress I made for her. Billy danced with her the whole evening and all the other girls settin’ around so jealous they almost had a fit. (She pauses to see the effect of her words.) He wasn’t here last summer at all, was he? Mary Anne. (With dignity) No, he wasn’t, Miss Slissy. Mrs. Simmonds. (Bursting with indignation) And it’s nothin’ against Mary Anne if he wasn’t. Miss Slissy. Course not. I don’t mean no of¬ fense. We oughtn’t to take rich young fellows too serious. Elaine Jewett engaged me by letter to do some sewin’ for her, beginnin’ -co-morrow. Mary Anne. Indeed! Miss Slissy. Shouldn’t wonder, considerin’ the way they say she and Billy Barclay have been carry- in’ on in New York last winter, it might be the weddin’ trousoo. And that’s where I shine. (Mary Anne takes vase to l., small table in window. Miss 14 GOLDEN DAYS Slissy, rising, to Mrs. SimmondsJ Seems to me Mary Anne’s lookin’ kind of droopy. Mrs. Simmonds. (Snaps) No one else thinks so. Miss Slissy. (A step up stage c., to Mary Anne) Get yourself another beau, Mary Anne. Ain’t nothing like it to chirk you up. Mary Anne. I don’t need chirking up, Miss Slissy, thank you! (Miss Slissy picks up work- bag and puts on her hat. The others show visible signs of relief.) Miss Slissy. Oh, ain’t got no tea ready made, have you? I don’t mind if it’s stood awhile. Mrs. Simmonds. As I said before, we’re ex¬ pectin’ my sister any minute now, and- Miss Slissy. Oh, well, don’t bother. (Mary Anne takes vase of lilacs over across to organ above the others.) But seein’ that you’d opened a tea shop I was just going to patronise you some. (Ar¬ ranges hat-pin.) I’ll drop around in a few days and call on your sister if I get time from the sewin’. Mrs. Simmonds. (c.) Don’t interrupt yourself to do it, Sairey. It’ll no doubt take most of your time, if it’s a weddin’! Mary Anne. (r. corner) Mother! READY pounding effect, and horn. Miss Slissy. (To Mary AnneJ If it wasn’t that your ma’s run down and nervous. I’d think she was takin’ that weddin’ to heart some. Mrs. Simmonds. Well, let me tell you this, Miss Slissy, if any man on earth thinks he’s too good for my Mary Anne- Mary Anne. (Desperately) Mother, please! Mrs. Simmonds. (To R.c.j Excuse me, Mary Anne. I’m goin’ out now and make some beat bis¬ cuits for dinner, so if you hear me hammerin', you’ll GOLDEN DAYS i5 know what it is. (Up to door r. She glares at Miss Slissy.J Good afternoon, Miss Slissy. (She exits off r.J Miss Slissy. (Moving up r., around table and to Mary c.) Dear me! Don’t she get fussy over nothin’? Well—if it is Miss Jewett’s weddin’ things, Mary Anne, I’ll let you look at them on the QT. Mary Anne. (A break in her voice) I—I told you once I’m not interested in Miss Jewett. (Crosses up c. to mantel.) Miss Slissy. (Up r. of MaryJ Well, you and your ma needn’t act so high and mighty even though you have got a rich relation cornin’ to visit you. Mary Anne. (On verge of tears, c., by mantel) Have you—been paid for the—hat? Miss Simmonds. Yes, I have, and though I do say it myself, I think $4.75 is little enough to charge for such an unusual creation as that is! (She exits l. Mary Anne stands c. by fireplace, dejected.) (Betsy enters through door r. She has the hired man's new boots in her hand. She carries them over and carefully places them on the organ r. Laughs sentimentally, then turns and sees Mary Anne.J Mary Anne. What is it, Betsy? Betsy. Ain’t you feelin’ good, Mary Anne? POUNDING. Mary Anne. (Tries to smile) Just a little tired, I think. (From kitchen off r. comes the sound of pounding. Betsy listens, then goes to door r. and looks off-) 16 GOLDEN DAYS Betsy. Your ma’s whoppin’ mad about some¬ thin’ an’ she’s takin‘ it out on the dough. (A motor horn is heard off l.) Maybe that’s your aunt now. Mary Anne. (Goes to window l.) Yes, I’m sure it is. It’s Aunt Maria. Tell mother, Betsy! Betsy. Yes, ’um. (Calls) Mrs. Simmonds! Here’s the automobile. It’s your sister! (Exits off R.J (Mary Anne stands at the door a moment, then waves her hand to the car, zvhich comes nearer, then she rims across the porch and exits l. Mrs. Simmonds comes in r. with Betsy. She wipes flour off hands on her apron.) Mrs. Simmonds. Land sakes, and me all over flour! Run out and help her with the things, Betsy. (Gives Betsy a gentle shove toward the window l. and follows, dusting herself.) Hurry, girl! Don’t be slow! Hurry! (Betsy exits zvindow l., followed by Mrs. Sim¬ monds. Outside Mary Anne is heard in greeting.) Mary Anne. Aunt Maria! Oh, I’m so glad to see you! Mrs. Kirkland. And I you, my dear! (There are other ad lib. greetings from Mrs. Sim¬ monds. Mary Anne and Mrs. Kirkland enter l. and go r. Mrs. Simmonds folloivs.) Mrs. Simmonds. Land sakes, Maria, you grow younger every time I see you. Make yourself right at home. I’ll have everything brought in. (Calls out l. as she stands at the window) Betsy, bring Golden Days” See page 19 GOLDEN DAYS 17 those things into the house. . (Turns to her sister) You don’t know how we’ve looked forward to your cornin’! (Betsy enters l. with golf-bag and hand-bags. Felice, Mrs. Kirkland’s maid, follows with shawl-strap.) Mrs. Simmonds. Betsy, help Mrs. Kirkland with her grips. How do you do, Felice? (Mary Anne has taken her aunt's coat and now hands it to Betsy as she comes over above c.) Felice. (To Mrs. SimmondsJ Well, thank you, Madame. Mrs. Simmonds. Betsy, show Felice where the rooms are and where to put their things. Mrs. Kirkland. Just the same sweet Mary Anne, only sweeter. Mrs. Simmonds. There, Maria, beginnin’ to spoil her before you’re here two seconds! Mrs. Kirkland. (Has observed the flowers about the room; now goes to the organ r. and touches the lilacs.) For me, Mary Anne? Mary Anne. (At r.c.J You see I remembered. Mrs. Kirkland. (Smells them) Um . . . the dear old-fashioned things! (Betsy and Felice go to c. Sees the boots and picks them up, laughing.) What are they, Amanda? Antiques? Mrs. Simmonds. (Following her gaze, crosses to Mrs. Kirkland and takes the boots up to Betsy. J Land sakes! if that girl didn’t literally take me at my word. Betsy, has the hired man gone down to the pasture without his boots? (Over to Betsy .) (Mrs. Kirkland goes to Mary Anne. Both stand up l.c., zvatching Mrs. Simmonds and Betsy .) i8 GOLDEN DAYS Betsy. Well, you told me- Mrs. Simmonds. Never mind what I told you. Maybe he isn’t gone yet. Take ’em out to him-—he might run a thorn in his foot and get lockjaw. Betsy. I think he’s already got it. TRUNK ready l. (Betsy takes the boots tenderly and exits r. with Felice. Mrs. Simmonds goes down r.) Mrs. Kirkland. (Sits l. of table r.c.) Well, thank goodness, I’m here! And now for a rest and a little real country life. Sometimes I envy you, Amanda. (Mary Anne sits on arm of Mrs. Kirkland’s chair.) Mrs. Simmonds. You wouldn’t long, when you’d see all the work that’s to be done. Mrs. Kirkland. What’s the explanation of all those tables on the porch ? An outdoor church sup¬ per ? Mary Anne. Why, Aunty, didn’t you see the sign, “Tea Room,” on the post? Mrs. Kirkland. Tea Room? Why, you don’t mean to say, Amanda- Mrs. Simmonds. Well, so many automobile tourists got in the habit of askin’ for one thing and another—we thought we might as well- Mrs. Kirkland. Amanda, I’m ashamed of you. Here I am with all my money and not a chick nor a child! If it weren’t for that old-fashioned pride of yours- Mrs. Simmonds. Land sakes, can’t a body- Mary Anne. Oh, it’s lots of fun, Auntie. (There is a sound off l. as of a trunk being dumped on the porch.) GOLDEN DAYS 19 Mrs. Simmonds. (Looking l.) What’s that? Mary Anne. (Moves up, looking off l.) It’s your trunk, Auntie. Your chauffeur just brought it onto the porch. Mrs. Kirkland. My what? (Mrs. Simmonds crosses at back of table l.) Mary Anne. Your chauffeur. Mrs. Kirkland. My chauffeur! (Laughs. Mary Anne returns to c.) Good heavens, I’d almost for¬ gotten him! (She rises and calls off l. humorously) Oh! Bring it in here, Watkins. (Richard Stan¬ hope, son of one of New York's multi-millionaires, a tall, athletic youth with a wonderful sense of hu¬ mor, a quality which Mrs. Kirkland admires and shares with him, enters the room through door L. with the auto trunk on his shoulders.) Place it there, Watkins. Dick. (Mystified) What’s the “Watkins” idea? Mrs. Kirkland. (To Mrs. Simmonds) Aman¬ da, this is Watkins, my chauffeur. (She laughs again heartily. Dick grins.) Mrs. Simmonds. (Looks at him critically) Pretty well dressed for a chauffeur. Mary Anne. (Pause, a trifle embarrassed) Aunty, you’re joking. He isn’t your chauffeur. Mrs. Kirkland. (Laughs) This is Richard Stan¬ hope, of New York— (He shakes hands with Mary Anne)— who picked me up about twenty miles from here when I got stuck in a frost hole. (Dick puts trunk down. Laughs.) This hero brought us bag and baggage into town. This is my sister, Mrs. Simmonds- Mrs. Simmonds. (Crosses to c.) I’m pleased to meet you. (Dick shakes hands.) Mrs. Kirkland. And my niece, Mary Anne. 20 GOLDEN DAYS Dick. (Rather diffidently) Yes— we have— Mrs. Simmonds. I was going to tell you to take the trunk upstairs, but now I’ll wait till the hired man comes back. Dick. Hired man? Why, he can’t touch me as a baggage-smasher. I could wreck all four corners at once. (He picks up trunk and swings it to his shoulder.) Mrs. Simmonds. (Laughing) Well, seeing that you’re bent on it. Mary Anne, show Mr. Stanhope the front room. (Mary Anne goes over to r. entrance, followed by Dick.) Mary Anne. (To Dick) Funny—my calling you a chauffeur! Dick. Oh, that’s all right. I’ve been called lots worse names than that. (Mary Anne smiles and holds the door open r. They exit.) Mrs. Simmonds. (To r. of table r.) He seems a nice boy. Mrs. Kirkland. (Laughing. Crosses to table r.) Just as nice as though his father weren’t worth mil¬ lions and millions! Mrs. Simmonds. Is he with that crowd that are giving the dance at the hotel to-night? Mrs. Kirkland. I think he did speak about it. Mrs. Simmonds. They advertise the new hotel as “the last word in sumptuousness.” Mrs. Kirkland. Farmdale needed to improve on the old one. (Crosses to r., sitting l. of table.) Mrs. Simmonds. (Sitting r. of table) It's Jim GOLDEN DAYS 21 Barclay's money that built it. You remember the Barclays, don’t you? Mrs. Kirkland. Oh, yes. The Barclays have made a lot of money in munitions and shipping in the past two years. Farmdale is a little too small for them now, I understand. Mrs. Simmonds. Yes, and there’s an old sayin’ that some folks can’t stand prosperity. Mrs. Kirkland. Has it affected them much? (Enter Mary Anne and Dick r.J Mrs. Simmonds. Some. Especially their son. Dick. (c. Mary Anne at table l. To Mrs. Kirkland) Any further orders, ma’am? Mrs. Kirkland. (Laughing) No, I think that will be all. Dickie, you’re a darling! Are you going back to-night? Dick. No, not to-night. There’s a little dance on at the hotel and Billy’s brought a crowd out from town. Mrs. Simmonds. Yes, so we heard. Mrs. Kirkland. Thank you, Dickie. Dick. Not at all. (With dignity.) I’m very glad to have met you, Mrs. Simmonds, and —(A resumption of the boyish manner) —and you, too. (This last to Mary Anne. Dick crosses and exits off L.) Mrs. Simmonds. (To c.) There, I might have asked him to have a cup of tea! Mary Anne. Oh, dear, why didn’t you? (To window.) Mrs. Kirkland. Well, I’ll have some, Amanda. Mrs. Simmonds. (To entrance r. 3J I can have it ready in a minute. Mrs. Kirkland. Not here. (Rises. Mary Anne 22 GOLDEN DAYS goes to Aunt Kirkland) Let’s go out in the kitchen and I’ll help make it. Mrs. Simmonds. (As they all move to r.) Now, Maria, you never will let me wait on you. Mrs. Kirkland. No, and never will. I’m here to wait on myself. (Exit Mrs. Simmonds.) Come on, Mary Anne. It was sweet of you to pick all these lilacs for me, and I love them. Mary Anne. (As they walk to door r.) The yard’s just full of them, Aunty. Wait till you see, and a fine bed of tulips—and the nasturtiums are coming along, too; they’ll be blooming in another week. (They exit r., closing the door.) (After a brief pause Trella Webb enters the r you won’t even admit it to me, but I know, Patty, just what you are doing. Patty. (No longer trying to bluff) Do you? Mrs. Kirkland. (Quite simply) Yes, Patty. Patty. I’m glad of that. I did want to tell some¬ body. You see, I felt that it was up to some of us not to—well, not to let go, no matter what hap¬ pened. Of course, there’s bound to be those who do let go and those who don’t. I used to be one of those who did myself, when I was younger. Mrs. Kirkland. (With a smile) How old are you—now ? Patty. (With dignity) Oh, I’m nearly nineteen. Mrs. Kirkland. Nearly nineteen! Patty. Perhaps that sounds young, but it isn’t —always. Mrs. Kirkland. No? How old is Teddy? Patty. (Importantly) Teddy is twenty-one. Mrs. Kirkland. Nineteen and twenty-one. (Sighs reminiscently.) Patty. You see, I know there’ll be lots of times when he’ll need some one—and I might as well be- Golden Days” See page 99 GOLDEN DAYS 97 gin now, at the hardest time of all, to sort of—well, to sort of take charge, you know. Mrs. Kirkland. Yes, I know, dear. Patty. It’s—well, at least it’s awfull good prac¬ tice. But there. Eve talked enough about myself. Where’s Marion? Mrs. Kirkland. She’s changing her dress. It won’t take her long. Teddy Farnum. (Outside r.J What-ho, what- ho, within! Patty. There’s my Teddy Bear. (Rises, snatches off hat and holds it high.) Come in, Army. ('Mrs. Kirkland rises.) Teddy. (Enters r.i.J Hello, Mrs. Kirkland, I’m awful late, but I had so much to do. (He glares at Patty— crosses to lJ I’ve been hanging around the Pennsylvania Station waiting for you for two hours. Patty. Have you, Teddy darling? Attention! Isn’t he wonderful, Mrs. Kirkland? Won’t the army just fall dead at sight of him? ('Teddy stands at attention for a moment, then to Mrs. Kirkland.,) Teddy. Mrs. Kirkland, what do you think of her? Going to allow a perfectly good fiance to go to France without the joy of pressing him to her heart for the last time ? Patty. I’m afraid, Teddy, to press you too hard. You might break in the middle. Teddy. When I come back all covered with medals, you’ll be sorry for treating me like this. Patty. Honest, Teddy, I missed the Pennsyl¬ vania and had to come on the Reading. Teddy. No wonder I waited. (Enter r., talking gaily among themselves, Lt,oyd 9 98 GOLDEN DAYS Mason, Trella, Frank and Edgar. All the hoys are in uniform.) Mason. May we come in? Mrs. Kirkland. Certainly. Annabelle. Patty! (Rushes over l. to embrace Patty.,) Trella. Patty Dear! (Embraces Patty also. Chatter.) Mrs. Kirkland. Annabelle, Pm glad you could come after all. Annabelle. So am I. Lloyd. It’s a foraging party, Mrs. Kirkland. Teddy. In quest of food and things. Trella. He’s always wanting food. Teddy. I feel like an empty ship. Mason. You 1-1-look like one. (All laugh.) Teddy. '(Glaring at him) Is that so? (He makes as if to fight with Mason, ad lib.) Lloyd. Where is the radiant Marion Simmonds? Mrs. Kirkland. Changing from her riding habit. Annabelle. It’s the duckiest little outfit I ever saw. Lloyd. Well, she needn’t have changed on my account. Mrs. Kirkland. I have tea all ready for you. Where’s Dick? Edgar. Smoking on the veranda when I saw him last. Lloyd. We have only a few minutes left. Mrs. Kirkland. Then we must hurry. (Crosses to R. and exits.) Lloyd. (Turns up to window) Say, how far do we have to march, Frank? Frank. Across the briny, and then some. Mason. (Looks at wrist watch) Gosh, we only have t-twenty minutes. GOLDEN DAYS 99 Edgar. Then don’t use them up trying to talk. Trella. I don’t see why we girls aren’t invited to the station? Teddy. Our tender hearts could not withstand your tears. (All laugh.) Mason. You’ll have to watch us march off from the balcony. Lloyd. Yes, and see that you are all there. Edgar. (Suddenly goes to c.) The Overseas Glee Club is in charge of the music. Lloyd. (Takes a tuning-fork from his pocket, strikes it and puts it to his ear, then emits a tone. Teddy, Lloyd, Edagr and Mason crowd together merrily. In harmony they sing a chorus of “Mer¬ rily we roll along ” etc.) Patty. (With meaning) I thought you said “music”? (Enter Mrs. Kirkland and Felice.J Teddy. Oh, we have others that are much worse! ^Trella laughs and goes up stage. Teddy goes hack of table. Mrs. Kirkland and Felice bring in tea-roller service and sandwiches. Tea-wagon is rolled to R. of couch c. Things lifted to table.) Mason. Oh, look! The eats! Lloyd. (Down l.cl ) The baby carriage—behold! Teddy. Child's restaurant. Lloyd. (Still sitting) Lead it to me! Mason. Nothing like this in F-France! Mrs. Kirkland. ('Felice exits r.iJ Boys, put the hat-boxes under the table. (All boys scramble to do this. Trella goes round.) 100 GOLDEN DAYS Mason. S-setting down exercises. (Takes out a hat.) Dainty confection, eh, what? Patty. Marion’s? (Trella helps Mrs. Kirk¬ land. ) Mrs. Kirkland. (Nods) Um - (Teddy takes the hat from Mason and puts it on his head.) Patty. Teddy Farnum, take that hat off this in¬ stant ! Teddy. Am I not an alluring creature? Patty. (In mock seriousness) Please, Teddy, let me remember you pleasantly. (All laugh at this. Teddy puts the hat hack in the box. The hoys have stacked them behind and under the table. Teddy\ puts sections of sandwich between fingers.) Teddy. Draw a card, some one- Mrs. Kirkland. Tea is ready. Teddy, give this to Patty. Teddy. (Takes cup to PattyJ Gracious lady! Just a sip, for your fair lip. Patty. (Accepts it) Thank you, I’d prefer a cupful. (As Teddy gives cup to Patty, Lloyd goes over with cup for Trella, back of piano, r. up.) Teddy. (Points to cup in her hand where a small sandwich rests on the side) Arrow points to sand¬ wich. (Begins to eat sandwich between fingers.) Patty. How many have you got? Mrs. Kirkland. Let him have all he wants. (Any time in here, Mrs. Kirkland signals to Fe¬ lice, who exits .r) Patty. That’s his usual number. (All laugh.) Lloyd. (Lazily, still seated) Isn’t anybody go¬ ing to help me? GOLDEN DAYS IOI Teddy. (Taking a bite) Yes, this is yours. Lloyd. (Decides he must wait on himeslf) Oh, well! Mason. No more chick sandwiches for many a moon. Teddy. Speaking of moons- Edgar. Sounds like a music cue! Teddy. I wonder if the moon over there is as white and round as the one over here? Patty. Yes, and makes fellows just as silly, so you be careful! Teddy. (To Patty,) Don’t you trust me? (Mrs. Kirkland laughs and strolls to Trella at piano bench.) Patty. Absolutely. But I’m going to have the boys watch you just the same. (All laugh.) Lloyd. (Down c.) We’ll see that none of those dark-eyed French girls steal him, Patty, Mason. Why doesn’t Marion come? (Teddy leads, all the boys join in the college yell.) Teddy, Lloyd, Edgar and Mason. Why doesn’t Marion come? Why doesn’t Marion come? We want Marion! We want Marion! We want Marion Simmonds! (Patty laughs and goes to window l. Marion enters l. She is dressed in a dainty afternoon frock.) Mary Anne. Who’s taking my name in vain? (The boys crowd about her.) 102 GOLDEN DAYS Boys. (In chorus. Patty comes down l.) Ah! I am the guilty party. (Mason.) We have been wishing for you. (Lloyd.) We bow before you. (Teddy.) We couldn’t wait any longer. (Edgar.) Mary Anne. (Playfully slaps head of the kneel¬ ing Teddy) Where’s Dick? (The hoys howl in rage. They go up stage.) Teddy. That’s what we get—“Where’s Dick?” Patty. Marion! Mary Anne. (Sees Patty for first time) Patty! (They embrace.) We were so afraid you couldn’t get here. Teddy. I wasn’t. The magnet— (Indicates him¬ self) —is sure to draw the needle— (Points to Pat¬ ty). She brings great news from Washington, Marion. The White House is still white. Mrs. Kirkland. (To Marion) The boys have only a short time now, dear. We’re having tea up here. Trella. (To Edgar) Where are you bound for? Montreal? Edgar. Search me. Mary Anne. What time does the train leave the station ? Mason. Six. We start from the corner at five. Mary Anne. (Looks at her wrist-watch) It’s fifteen minutes of that now. Where’s Dick? Teddy. Why the anxiety about Dick? Mary Anne. (Sits at desk, facing crowd) Well, I—I just wondered. Mrs. Kirkland. They’ve been such good friends, and she has a little gift for him on leaving—that’s all. GOLDEN DAYS 103 Teddy. Lucky Dickie! Patty. Teddy Farnum, didn’t I give you a wrist- watch ? Teddy. Bless your little heart—so you did! (Shows the company.) Behold! Size six and seven- eighths. Mason. (Shows a watch on each wrist) I got two. (Holds both wrists down, exhibiting.) Teddy. His third will be worn around his ankle, in the guard-house, with a ball and chain attach¬ ment. Mason. Then I’ll have to watch my st-st-step. (All laugh.) (Dick enters r.i.) Dick. What’s the ha, ha? Am I missing some¬ thing ? Edgar. You never miss anything. Dick. (Goes l. to Mary Anne,) I missed a dance that was coming to me. Mary Anne. I’m sorry— it took me so long to dress. Dick. I’ll forgive you this time. Mary Anne. (To c., above table) I’ll get you some tea. (Trella and Lloyd to window l.u.J Dick. Thanks. (He goes l. Mary Anne goes over for tea and sandwiches. Her manner is full of suppressed excitement.) Mary Anne. One- (Holds up lump of sugar.) Dick. Two. It’s getting close to us. Trella. (At window, looks down) My, that’s a jolly crowd! READY Bugle. 104 GOLDEN DAYS Dick. They won’t be so jolly two days out on the ship. I know I won’t! Lloyd. I’m ready now for anything. Teddy. I’ve been ready for a month. Mrs. Kirkland, (c.) Dickie, you must take care of all my boys. Dick. That’s a pretty big commission, Auntie Kirk, but I’ll do my best. Mary Anne. (Sadly) You haven’t much time now. Dick. (Cheerfully) No —not very much. (Pause.) Lloyd. Patty—don’t look so sad. Patty. I’m not sad—I may not like it—but I’m smiling. (Anyone who plays goes over to piano and rattles off “By the Sea.” Mary Anne and Mason, Patty and Teddy, Lloyd and Trella, Edgar and Annabelle begin to dance. As Mary Anne dances across to l. a bugle note is heard. All stop abruptly. The girls much affected, the boys apparently careless.) BUGLE. Dick. That’s it. (Crosses to window.) Mrs. Kirkland. Now, boys, don’t forget to drop us a line whenever you can, all of you. We shall be interested in every step you take. Mason. Oh, we will! Edgar. Sure! Mrs. Kirkland. Where are your kits? Teddy. My people took mine to the station in the car. Lloyd, Mine, too. Mason. M-m-me, too. Trella. (At window) The boys are getting into line. GOLDEN DAYS io5 (Mason and Edgar go over to Mary Anne and shake hands. Lloyd says good-bye to Mrs, Kirkland. Patty to Teddy .) Patty. Now, remember, Teddy, you telegraph me from wherever the boat leaves. (Dick says good-bye to TrellaJ Mason. Good-bye, Marion. Mary Anne. Good-bye and good luck. (Lloyd goes over to Mary Anne. Mason, Ed¬ gar, Patty and Teddy form group r.) Lloyd. I want to be in on that, Marion. Mary Anne. I almost wish I were going with you. Lloyd. I guess we all wish that. (Teddy comes over to Mary Anne. Lloyd to r.) Mary Anne. Come back all covered with med¬ als, Teddy. Teddy. Wait till you see me. IT1 look like the hero of a Mexican revolution. (They shake hands.) (Frank comes for farewell.) Mary Anne. Keep on smiling, Frank. Mrs. Kirkland. We’ll go down with you. (Dick goes to Mary AnneJ Mason. So long, Mary. (Teddy sings a few bars of “So Long, Mary.” Edgar joins at conclusion.) GOLDEN DAYS 106 Dick. Well, good-bye, Mary Anne. Mary Anne. The time has come at last, hasn’t it ? Dick. Yes. Teddy. Coming, Dick? Dick. I’ll be right with you. Lloyd. We’ll walk on slow. Teddy. Gee! I feel funny! Lloyd. So do I. Mason. I hope nobody cries at the station! Teddy. So do I. I’m close to it myself. (By this time, Patty, Teddy, Trella, Annabelle, Edgar, Lloyd, Frank, Mason and Mrs. Kirk¬ land are out of the room r., leaving Dick and Mary Anne. She is at window l. Dick moves near to divan down c.) Dick. (With poorly assumed cheerfulness, slowly) Our little make-believe romance is—is just ended, that’s all. Mary Anne. Ended- (Faintly) Yes. Dick. (Bracing up) But we’ve had great times together, haven’t we? Mary Anne. Yes— we have. (Facing each other, they pause, and then start to speak together) Mary Anne and Dick . (Together) Well, I- Do you think- Mary Anne. Oh, I—I interrupted you—didn’t I? Dick. No. I—I wasn’t going to say anything. Mary Anne. There’s so much one wants to say —one can’t think of—of anything. Dick. Except the bully good times we’ve had. Mary Anne. And how kind you’ve been. Dick. No, how kind—how—kind you've been. GOLDEN DAYS 107 Mary Anne. It seems—like a dream. I just can’t realize that you’re going. Dick. (Cheerily) I can’t, either, but I’m on my way. Mary Anne. You’ll take good care of yourself over there? Promise me you will. Dick. Yes! Sure! You promise—too! Mary Anne. Of course. (She pauses. In¬ stinctively they step closer to each other.) I shall be thinking of you. Dick. (Earnestly) And I shall be thinking of you, Mary Anne. Lloyd. (Outside rJ You’ve got just three min¬ utes, Dickie. Dick. I’m coming. Mary Anne. Oh, wait—they mustn’t go till I’ve given you your presents. Dick. For me? (Mary Anne runs to window l.c. and brings down large box, unwrapped. They sit on the divan. Produces articles as she talks.) Mary Anne. A sweater, see? I made it myself. Dick. Oh, that’s great! Mary Anne. And the muffler—and mittens— I hope the thumbs are large enough. (Hands each separately.) Dick. Oh, sure! READY Band. Mary Anne. (Disclosing the big surprise) And here, a little kit bag and medicine chest, combined. See there, needles and thread. A pair of scissors. Things to shave with. (Points to bottles) That’s quinine; that is flaxseed, for poultices, you know. And put one in your eye if you get anything in it. This is peroxide, antiseptc. Isn’t it complete? GOLDEN DAYS 108 Dick. Wonderful! And you did all this for me? Mary Anne. It was great fun! I tried tc think of everything. Dick. There’s only one thing you’ve forgotten. Something I should like above all these. Mary Anne. What? Dick. It won’t be complete without- Well, I’d like to have your picture. Mary Anne. (Flustered) A picture of me? Good gracious ! Really ? (She looks about help¬ lessly. Sees an ivory miniature of herself on the desk at l. Gets it.) Here, you may have this one. It belongs to Aunty, but she won’t mind. Dick. (Looks at it tenderly) Thank you, Mary Anne. I shall keep it with me always for good luck. (Puts it in inside pocket. Band far away on Fifth Avenue heard•—“Stars and Stripes.” Dick con¬ tinues slowly) We won’t say good-bye—just au revoir. (Mary Anne hands him the package, all in one box. He holds it under one arm.) Mary Anne. Yes—just au revoir. (She puts her hand in his.) Teddy. (Outside) Come on, Dickie! WARN Curtain. (Dick looks at Mary Anne. He resists a desire to kiss her and crush her in his arms. Bends over and kisses her hand instead, turns and exits out of the door r. quickly—taking his pres¬ ents with him. Mary Anne stands dazed, looking at the hand which he has kissed. The sound of the music becomes louder. The par¬ ade is nearing the corner. Outside r., Mrs. Kirkland is heard as Dick passes her.) GOLDEN DAYS 109 Mrs. Kirkland. Au revoir, Dickie boy. Better hurry—you’ll be court-martialled. (Trella, Patty, Annabelle, Felice and Mrs. Kirkland enter r. and rush to windows. Mrs. Kirkland speaks to Mary Anne.J Mrs. Kirkland. Come, dear, we can see them from here splendidly. Patty. Isn’t it wonderful? Dear boys! (Band is now quite forte, a strong, stirring march tempo, as the girls stand at window.) Trella. (Excitedly at window r.c.J There’s Lloyd. He’s waving his hand to us! (They wave their handkerchiefs in return.) Patty. (After a pause, excitedly) There’s Teddy—there’s Teddy! (Pause. They wave their handkerchiefs frantically. Then Patty wipes a tear from her eye.) Mrs. Kirkland. There’s Dick—look, Marion—- there’s Dick! FIRST Ring. (Mary Anne, who has held her position, gazing vacantly at her hand, now brings it against her cheek and crumples down into a little heap be¬ fore the sofa. Her aunt goes to her, alarmed. The band is forte, and the others continue wav¬ ing their hands.) SECOND Ring. CURTAIN (At Picture, Mrs. Kirkland is beside Mary Anne, lifting her. Distant band is still heard.) no GOLDEN DAYS Note.— As the band begins faintly in the distance, let them play just the easy moving part of the march which is called the “trio” They can re¬ peat this and keep it up through the picture. ACT IV Scene: Same as Act I. June, 1919. Discovered: At rise Betsy is standing at the win¬ dow l., looking out l. She has a rag in her hand■ and a pail stands on the floor. Miss Slissy enters the door l. She has her sewing- bag on her arm, with materials, etc. Note : Make such changes in arrangement of things as might happen in two years. Have pail of water at l.ie. Letter in tobacco-jar on mantel. Miss Slissy. Where’s Mis’ Simmonds, Betsy? Betsy. Out to the hen-house, I think. Miss Slissy. I came to finish that new waist I’m making for her. Do you know what she done with the pattern ? Betsy. It’s on the sewing machine upstairs. Miss Slissy. (Goes r. to table) Mary Anne’s expected home to-day, ain’t she? Betsy. (Dusting ornament) Yep. Miss Slissy. Bessie Hamper—telephone opera¬ tor—said that Mrs. Kirkland had a long-distance call from New York sayin’ Mary Anne was on her way down here by automobile. Her ship got in early this morning from France. Betsy. (Nodding) Uh huh. Miss Slissy. It’s about time she was cornin’ home. She ain’t writ her mother —(Sits l. of table Hi 112 GOLDEN DAYS R.J—very often since she’s been away. Jed Dooley, the rural delivery man, was tellin’ me only yester¬ day that he’s only brought her ma seven letters from France in a year and a half, and three of ’em was censored. Betsy. She had eight. Miss Slissy. Well, one more or less don’t make much difference. Of course I ain’t sayin’ it wasn’t patriotic of her to go over with that Sal army unit and help nurse, but I do think she ought to have writ her ma oftener and told her more gossip. Betsy. She wasn’t nursin’. Miss Slissy. What was she doin’, then? Betsy. She was in a cantoon, or somethin’. Miss Slissy. Well, it’s all the same. One gives ’em medicine to make ’em well and the other gives ’em chocolates to make ’em sick again. I done my bit right here at home, singin’ at benefits and one thing or another. (Betsy sighs.) What’s the mat¬ ter with you, Betsy, you’re lookin’ kinda droopy lately ? Betsy. I dunno. I guess it’s because I’m sleepy. (Sits.) I had to sit up till half-past nine last night waiting for Mrs. Kirkland. Miss Slissy. (To c.) Yes, there’s nothin’ like losing sleep to cause a girl to fade. You’d better be careful, ’cause you’re the kind that fades early. Betsy. What are the kind that don’t? Miss Slissy. Well, take me, for instance. I looked just the same ten years ago as I do now. Betsy. (Innocently) Wasn’t that too bad! Miss Slissy. What’s that? Huh! (Exits R.) (Betsy looks out of the window, smiles and nods to someone, and coyly wipes the window ledge with the rag. Mrs. Simmonds enters l. The door stands open, set hack with a stone.) GOLDEN DAYS 113 Mrs. Simmonds. (Crosses to far r. —puts flow¬ ers on organ) I do nothing but drive that speckled rooster out of the geranium bed. There he was struttin’ through it for the seventh time to-day. (Looks at Betsy, who works c.) Mary Anne hasn’t telephoned again, has she? (Front of table r. to R.C.J Betsy, (c.) No’m. Mrs. Simmonds. She ought to be here by now. I declare I’m getting so nervous I can hardly keep still a minute Betsy. Miss Slissy’s upstairs. Mrs. Simmonds. What does she want? Betsy. That new waist she’s makin’. Mrs. Simmonds. If she could only make it with¬ out havin’ to try it on me so much, I’d be thankful. She gets me standin’ so I’ve got to listen, and nearly talks me to death. (Crosses r. and around table.) Betsy. I suppose she wants to be here when Mary Anne comes. (Goes l .) Mrs. Simmonds. There’s no “supposing” about that. Wipe off the chairs, Betsy. Sister Maria will be down in a minute, and if she noticed there was any dust on anything it would give me nervous prostration, she’s so neat. (Betsy jabs at the chair standing l. and misses it. Mrs. Simmonds goes above table L.) The chairs, I said, child. I didn’t ask you to fan flies. What does possess you to fuss around that window? Is it Henry again? Betsy. Yes-sum. Mrs. Simmonds. What’s that fool hired-man doin’ that you can’t even turn your head this way when I’m talkin’ to you ? Betsy. Smilin’. Mrs. Simmonds. He’s got just about enough brains as would keep that speckled rooster from falling off the fence, and no more. (To c.) GOLDEN DAYS 114 Betsy. (Wipes chair, kneeling, hut manages to keep an eye out of the window) A speckled rooster ain’t so bad, scratchin’ around makin’ a livin’ for a family. Mrs. Simmonds. (c.) Sometimes, Betsy, you say things so idiotic that they almost sound sen¬ sible. Betsy. (Pulls chair to her and rubs the top part and the seat) I’m absent-minded in the spring of the year. Mrs. Simmonds. ’Tain’t only in the spring, child. (To c.) Though I do notice that you’re slacker than usual in the last few days. What’s the rea¬ son? Betsy. ( Drawls, staring out l.) I dunno. Mrs. Simmonds. I think you’re lookin’ at it now, and I don’t intend to stand any more of it. (She moves to window l.c. and calls off l. Pulls Betsy to c. Betsy works above table l.) Henry! Stop that hoein’ and go out to the barn and clean off the horses till I tell you stop. Ari if the horses is cleaned off already, clean off the cows. Do some¬ thin’ to take you out of sight of this house. (To Betsy,) Now mebbe you can ’tend to your work. (Crosses to c.) Betsy. Yes-sum. (She rubs again at l. chair of table l., then pauses, thinking.) Mrs. Simmonds, if you was a single girl, and had loved a man for two years and he loved you, and wouldn’t ask you, what would you do ? Mrs. Simmonds. (Wearily sarcastic) I’d take him by the ear and souse his head in the rain-water barrel till he did ask me. (Crosses down r. Turns to go as Mrs Kirkland enters r.) (Betsy looks at Mrs. Simmonds a few moments, then out the window; then with determination throws down the cloth and exits l.) GOLDEN DAYS 115 Mrs. Kirkland. (Enter rJ No sign of Mary Anne yet? Mrs. Simmonds. None, and she ought to have been here half an hour ago. (Mrs. Kirkland crosses to window.) Mrs. Simmonds. (c.) Land! How I have missed that girl! I’ll never let her go away from me so long again. Mrs. Kirkland. (Sits l.) Amanda, did Mary Anne ever mention Dickie Stanhope in any of her letters ? Mrs. Simmonds. Dick Stanhope? No—why? Mrs. Kirkland. (Sits l.) I was just puzzled, that’s all. Her early letters to me were full of his name—and then—suddenly—not a word about him, (Miss Slissy enters r.) Mrs. Simmonds. Land, I dunno. I can’t under¬ stand her sometimes. She doesn’t seem to know her own mind. She carried on for months to get Billy Barclay to ask her, and when she could have him, didn’t want him. (Mrs. Kirkland warns her that Miss Slissy is in the room.) Miss Slissy. Talkin’ about Mary Anne? Mrs. Simmonds. (Crosses to l.) No, we wasn’t, Sairey Applegate Slissy. Miss Slissy. Goodness knows, I’ll be glad to see Mary Anne when she gets here. I s’pose she’ll have a wonderful lot of tales to tell. (Mrs. Sim¬ monds about to sit in chair l. of table r. To Mrs. n6 GOLDEN DAYS Simmonds ) Do you mind seein’ if this waist is the right width across the back? Mrs. Simmonds. I s’pose not, though you meas¬ ured me twice yesterday. ('Miss Slissy moves over to Mrs. Simmonds, who rises and turns for her.) Mrs. Kirkland. Do you wear those felt slip¬ pers for comfort, Miss Slissy? Miss Slissy. (Puttering with the waist) Well, I hope you don’t think, Mrs. Kirkland, that I wear ’em for any dishonorable purpose. Gracious me, Mrs. Simmonds! I believe you grow broader through the shoulders right along. I’m afraid I’ll have to set a piece in. (Pins the waist to Mrs. Simmonds as she measures.) Mrs. Simmonds. Ouch! Don’t puncture my spine. I may need it. Miss Slissy. Excuse me. Stout people is so near the surface! Anyhow— (To Mrs. Kirkland,) —I’m so used to sticking myself I think other folks don’t mind it. (Laughs and continues her work.) I always wondered if Mary Anne went to France on account of any disappointment in particular. Mrs. Kirkland. That’s nothing that need worry you nor the village, Miss Slissy. Miss Slissy. Please stand still, Mis’ Simmonds. I almost stuck you again. (Betsy enters from l. over the porch. She is wet and excited.) Betsy. (Breathlessly) It’s all right, Mis’ Sim¬ monds! It’s all right! (To l.cJ Mrs. Simmonds. What's all right? Betsy. Henry says he’ll marry me, but I had to GOLDEN DAYS ii 7 duck him in the rain-water barrel twice before he’d promise. (Wrings water out of her sleeves. Mrs. Kirkland laughs and rises.) Mrs. Simmonds. (Horrified) For the land sakes, she.did it! (Steps.) She actually went and did it, just because I told her to! Betsy. (Crosses to c .) He kicked somethin’ awful, but I held him. Don’t you reckon I’d ought to have a new dress to get married in? Mrs. Simmonds. I s’pose so, child. You and Henry might as well get the agony over. Mrs. Kirkland. (Smiling) That means I’m due for a wedding present. What would you like me to give you, Betsy? Betsy. I’d like a silk nightgown—silk all over! (Turns and speaks to Miss Slissy J Thursday is my afternoon off. if you want to fit me then. Mrs. Simmonds. (Crosses to table l.) Well, just take Miss Slissy to your room—to finish bastin’ my waist. You can have her time for the rest of the afternoon. READY Horn. (Betsy goes r. Miss Slissy follows.) Miss Slissy. (At r. in intense undertone) Betsy, where is that rain-water barrel ? Betsy. (Confidential tone) Back of the wood¬ shed. Why? Miss Slissy. I want you to show me how you done it. (Betsy exits r., followed by Miss Slissy.J (Slight pause. Horn l.) Mrs. Kirkland. There’s a motor now! Mrs. Simmonds. (c.) Perhaps it’s Mary Anne. (Goes below table lJ Mrs. Kirkland. (Goes to window c.) They’ve 118 GOLDEN DAYS stopped at the gate. There’s Patty, Teddy, Billy— Here they all are! No, I don’t see Marion. Mrs. Simmonds. I'm surprised at Billy Barclay coming here! Mrs. Kirkland. I hope nothing’s happened to detain her. Mrs. Simmonds. I hope not. (Mrs. Kirkland exits out the door l. There are confused sounds of greeting outside l. Mrs. Kirkland enters with Elaine, Trella, Lloyd and PattyJ Mrs. Simmonds. What on earth is it all about? (Mrs. Kirkland and girls to r.c., below table. Ad lib.) Mrs. Simmonds. Where’s my Mary Anne? Patty. (l.c.J She’s a mile or two behind us. Lloyd. Charley Mason is bringing her in his car. Trella. You ought to see Charlie. He’s grown so masterful. Patty. She doesn’t know we’re here. The others drove around the back in Edgar’s car. (Teddy and Billy enter lJ Mrs. Simmonds. Well, of all things! Billy. Hello, Mrs. Simmonds! Mrs. Simmonds. How do you do, Billy? I haven’t seen you in a long time. Nor you, Teddy. Teddy. (Crosses to c.) We couldn’t resist the temptation to wish ourselves on you folks in Farm- dale when it meant surprising Marion! Mrs. Simmonds. (Delighted but flustered) GOLDEN DAYS 119 Goodness me, I haven’t got a thing in the house fit to eat for a surprise, except a- Lloyd. (Down r. of c.) Don’t worry about that, Mrs. Simmonds. We’ll sneak down to the village and get a couple of gallons of ice cream and some cake. (Crosses to window.) Trella. You’d better hurry and get the car out of sight, so Mary Anne won’t see you. Lloyd. (Lazily) Aw, we’ve got plenty of time. Teddy. (Crosses to window) We’ll bring the eats in the back way. Come on, fellows. (They exit l.2—Billy, Teddy and LloydJ HORN Ready. Mrs. Kirkland. Has anyone seen or heard any¬ thing of Dick? Trella. (r. corner) Well—ah - Patty. (Crosses to c., hesitates) Oh, yes, Dick’s in New York—been there for four days. Mrs. Kirkland. Have you seen him? (The girls are trying to keep a secret.) Patty. Yes—we saw him—for just a few mo¬ ments— Mrs. Kirkland. Did he- (A horn is heard in the distance.) HORN. Patty. (Crosses to l.) There’s Marion now! The boys will just about make it. Mrs. Simmonds. Good gracious, I’m .so excited! I don’t know if I’m standin’ on my head or my heels! Mrs. Kirkland. Bring the others in through the kitchen, and don’t come until I give the signal. Mrs. Simmonds. You can stay right there in the dining room, if you girls want to hide. (Exits L. window.) 120 GOLDEN DAYS Trella. (To Mrs. Kirkland,) Don't give the signal till the boys get back. (The whirr of the motor is heard off l.) Elaine. (To Mrs. Kirkland,) Don’t you let on now, Mrs. Kirkland. Mrs. Kirkland. Not a word! (The girls exit r. Mrs. Kirkland stands c.) Mary Anne. (Off) Oh, Mumsey—Mumsey—! Mrs. Simmonds. (Off, emotionally) My little chickadee —my little lambkin! (They enter l. and embrace.) Mary Anne. Aunty! (She runs to her.) Mrs. Kirkland. Well, you dear little darling! Mary Anne. Aunty, aunty, aunty! Mumsie! (Goes to mother again.) Mrs. Simmonds. (Arms about her) Mary Anne, how could you go away and leave your mother all this time? Mary Anne. (Consoling her) I’m here now, darling—I’m here, I’m here! Mrs. Simmonds. But if anything had happened to you- Mary Anne. (Smiling) Oh, I felt so little compared to the big things going on around me, I just knew a bullet would have hard work to find me. Mrs. Simmonds. (Hysterically) Oh, darling, you were near the bullets? Mary Anne. It was all in the game, Mumsie, but I’m home again. Mrs. Simmonds. I can scarcely believe it’s my Mary Anne. Mary Anne. Oh, but it is! (Laughs.) And two pounds more of me than there was when I went away. Mrs. Simmonds. Bless you! “Golden Days” & ee V a 9 e 125 ■ 2 %. GOLDEN DAYS 121 Mrs. Kirkland. We’ve been proud of you, dear, very proud. Mary Anne. Not of me. 1 really did next to nothing. Mrs. Simmonds. You just say that. Mrs. Kirkland. It seems as if you had been gone for years and years. Mary Anne. Two years, Auntie—two wonder¬ ful, terrible years. (Quick change to lighter man¬ ner) Mumsie, I’m hungry! May I have something to eat? Mrs. Simmonds. Yes, we’re going to have- (A cough from Mrs. Kirkland reminds her not to tell about the guests.) I’ll get you a slice of bread and preserves. Mary Anne. Quince! Good old-fashioned quince! Mrs. Simmonds. I just opened a jar of it this morning. You talk to your aunt. I’ll bring it to you. Bless your little heart, but it’s good to have you home again! (Exits, almost weeping with joy.) Mary Anne. Good gracious! Charlie Mason’s outside. I’d forgotten all about him. Mrs. Kirkland. He’ll find his way in. Don’t worry. Mary Anne. I want you to tell me every single thing that has happened since I went away. Mrs. Kirkland. (Affectionately) Dear child, just having you here makes the world seem normal once more. Well, Teddy Farnum and Lloyd Hen¬ derson have been home a long time. Mary Anne. Yes, Charlie told me that. He came back with them. Mrs. Kirkland. Teddy and Patty are married. Mary Anne. Married? Oh, I’m* dying to see them! 122 GOLDEN DAYS Mrs. Kirkland. Trella and Lloyd are engaged, and so are Billie and Elaine Jewett. Mary Anne. Yes, I knew that. Mrs. Kirkland. But not all of our boys came back. You’ve‘heard about Frank? Mary Anne. (Nods) I saw him being brought in—poor Frank!—his very first day in action, too. Mrs. Kirkland. His mother has been very brave. (The shadow of this memory makes them pause for a moment.) Mary Anne. Two years since I went abroad, Auntie. Two wonderful, terrible years! Mrs. Kirkland. You were such a child. We’ve found it hard not to reproach ourselves for ever let¬ ting you go into the midst of such horrors. Mary Anne. But you couldn’t help yourselves! I had to go to France, something made me, and now it’s all over, it’s a deep and sacred memory to carry with me as long as I live. Mrs. Kirkland. (Slowly feeling her way) There’s one friend we haven’t mentioned yet— Dick. You never ran across him, I suppose? Mary Anne. (Shakes her head) It was a long time before I even had news of him. At first I used to picture our meeting somewhere on a dusty road and my crying out, “Vive l’America” in the kind of French we used to practice when we rode to¬ gether in the park, and then, when he came over to see who it was, I’d turn and laugh and say, “Don’t you know me, Dick? It’s Mary Anne!” (Slight pause.) Once I dreamed of finding him wounded out there in No Man’s Land, and of bending over him, saying words of comfort and love- Mrs. Kirkland. (Startled) “Love,” Mary Anne? Mary Anne. (Bravely) Yes, Aunty, for I did love Dick Stanhope with all my heart. I knew it GOLDEN DAYS 123 after he’d gone away that day at the farewell dance. And even though he doesn’t care for me, has never cared- Mrs. Kirkland. But how do you know he has never cared? Mary Anne. A letter finally reached me from him after months of waiting. I couldn’t have en¬ dured the humiliation of that letter—if my life hadn’t been so full of the sufferings of others just then, that it gave me small time to think about my¬ self. Mrs. Kirkland. Why, what on earth could he have said to you ? Mary Anne. He wrote he was very sorry our little game had turned out so unfortunately for me. (Mrs. Kirkland makes gesture of doubt.) Yes— he did, Aunty. You see, he must have guessed that I had grown to think too much of him, and when he didn’t- (Buries her face in her hands.) Mrs. Kirkland. But such a letter doesn’t seem like Dick at all, not the boy I knew so well. I can’t understand it. One thing is certain, it must not be allowed to spoil your home-coming now. Mary Anne. (Looks up, bravely) It won’t—it shan’t. I’ve only this to say, Aunty: I couldn’t be friends with Dick again, and if he ever comes here, I don’t want to talk with him, or even see him, I—I couldn’t bear it. (Charlie Mason enters l.i. He is now very mili¬ tary and very masterful. He crosses with a firm step direct to Mrs. Kirkland.,) Mason. Hello, Mrs. Kirkland! Mrs. Kirkland. (Rising) Why, hello, Charlie! Mary Anne. Lieutenant Mason, now, Aunty. 124 GOLDEN DAYS Mrs. Kirkland. Good gracious, what a respon¬ sibility ! Mason. Well, some men just have to be leaders. (The crozvd outside r. in dining room begin to sing the song with which they enter in a moment. They form a line, hands on each other’s shoul¬ ders, in the position they retain on entering. Tune, “John Brown’s Body.”) Mary Anne. Why, what’s that? Mrs. Kirkland. Goodness, I’d almost forgotten! Crowd. (lively, march tempo) We come to welcome Mary Anne from far across the sea. She traveled over there to give us chocolates and tea, And now we’re just as happy as we possibly can be, For Mary Anne is home! (They enter r. in line, each with the left hand on shoulder of the one in front and keeping time with the feet.) Glory, glory, Ukulele, Glory, glory, Ukulele, Glory, glory, Ukulele, For Mary Anne is home! (This chorus carries them once around Mary Anne, who stands amazed at first and then ad libs, names of the various ones. They smile and wave their hands to her. She is in the center and utters little “Oh!” and other ejaculations of surprise and joy. At the end of the song they break into a yell and crowd around Mary GOLDEN DAYS 125 Anne. When the yell and break come, she clasps Patty in her arms and the others crowd toward them, Edgar and Annabelle included. Mrs. Simmonds enters r. with large floral doughnut. Teddy gets it.) Mary Anne. Oh!—oh!—Patty! Billy! Elaine! Teddy!- (Then comes the yell and rush to her.) Omnes. Welcome, Marion! Welcome home again ! Etc. Mary Anne. Oh, you dear, dear, sweet friends, every one of you! Teddy. (Bearing the floral offering. He is very oratorical) Gangway! Gangway! Allow me, on behalf of these few members of the old 79th and others, to present the little doughnut girl with a floral doughnut, in appreciation of the many dough¬ nuts we received at your hands and those of your lovely sisters in France. (Cheers.) Said dough¬ nuts coming, as they did, at a time when we did not have the dough to buy a nut of any kind. (Big laugh, cheer, etc. Teddy is c. to Mary Anne.) Edgar. The nut is mixing his doughnuts. Teddy. With our love and the love of every boy who went to France. (He hands her the floral piece.) Crowd. Hear! Hear! Mary Anne. Oh, it’s just too sweet for words! The Crowd. Speech! Speech! (Cries of “Yes — speech!” etc.) Mary Anne. I can’t make a speech; my heart is too full- (Her mother comes down.) Mum- sey, isn’t it beautiful? (Showing her emblem, weeping, goes to mother. Mason works over to l.) Mrs. Simmonds. Goodness, child, I’m so choked up I can’t say a word. (She takes floral piece.) 126 GOLDEN DAYS I’ll put it on the mantel where everyone can see it. (Goes up c.) Mary Anne. (To Mrs. Kirkland,) Auntie, why didn’t you tell me? Mrs. Kirkland. (To Mary and up to Mrs. Simmonds ) And spoil the surprise? Mary Anne. (To Patty,) Patty, you dear. I want to congratulate you and Teddy. (Teddy is now R. with Patty. Mary Anne gives each a hand.) Pm just as pleased as I can be. Teddy. (Points to Patty ) Congratulate her, Marion. She had a hard struggle to land me. (Mary Anne laughs and goes over to Billy and Elaine, who are together.) Mary Anne. And Billy and Elaine! Pm so glad you came here together. I knew you were in France, Billy. You were billeted within a quarter of a mile of “Old Sal” once, but I did not find it out until after you had gone. Billy. If I had only known about you, Mary Anne, I’d have risked being shot at sunrise just to shake hands with you. (Mary Anne laughs and pauses, looking at Elaine. There is a moment's hesitation and then both girls fling themselves into each other's arms and kiss.) Teddy. Hear, hear! (All laugh. Mary Anne moves a little up to Trel- la and Lloyd.,) Mary Anne. I saw you when I got off the boat. GOLDEN DAYS 127 I felt then as if I wanted to kiss every one of you. Lloyd. (Shouts) Do it now. Teddy. (With oratorical enthusiasm) Obey that impulse. (All laugh as Mary Anne kisses Trella and pecks at Lloyd’s cheek.) Edgar. Repet ez vous, Mademoiselle. (The others crowd around her. Miss Slissy comes down.) Miss Slissy. Well, Mary Anne—— Mary Anne. (Runs to Miss Slissy, down r. and to Betsy, who has been in background with Miss Slissy ) Miss Slissy! And Betsy! It isn’t com¬ plete without you. Miss Slissy. Thanks, Mary Anne. I will say I’ve done my best to keep your mother cheered up. Betsy. The hired man’s quite well, thank you. Mrs. Kirkland. It’s wonderful to have all you boys home again. You’ve done so much for us. Your country will remember you for a long, long time. Teddy. That’s right. They remembered my grandfather for sixty years. He had a civil war claim that was settled week before last. Mrs. Simmonds. Well, supper’s ready if you’ll go in and have chairs. Betsy and I will do our best to wait on you. (To Slissy.J It’s all spread out on the dining-room table, Sairey, and if you’d care to help out some- Miss Slissy. I’m just the one to call on. Good¬ ness knows I’ve had enough experience at church fairs and one thing or another. (She follows Mrs. Simmonds and Betsy out r.J Mrs. Kirkland. And put the floral-piece in the middle of the table. Teddy. Let me bear it hence. Billy. No, let me. Edgar. My strong right arm is rusting from dis¬ use. (All struggle for possession of floral piece.) 128 GOLDEN DAYS Teddy. (Wins out and holds floral-piece high.) I am master of ceremonies and custodian of the dough¬ nut. Mary Anne. Be careful of it. boys. ("Elaine near window l. signals to Dick outside.) Lloyd. I brought it down from New York. ("Patty and Trella makes signs to Elaine, who comes to Mary Anne. The hoys are moving to r. with floral-piece ad libing badinage.) Mrs. Kirkland. Come, everyone. (She exits r. the boys following. Patty and Trella go r., Elaine detains Mary AnneJ Elaine. (c.) We’ll be there in a moment. Patty. Don’t be long. ("Mary Anne looks at Elaine curiously.) Elaine. We won’t be. ('Patty makes a sign to Elaine that someone is outside l. Elaine gets this and the girls exit r. After they are off, Elaine speaks.) Marion, I want to tell you how surprised— how overwhelmed I was when I learned the truth, and when I’d been so hateful to you always- Mary Anne. The truth? Elaine. About my father’s rescue from losing every dollar he possessed. I thought at the time it was Billy’s father who was helping him, but I after¬ wards found out it was your aunt—and that she had done it because you had asked her to—for my sake. I can never thank you enough. I’ve been so sorry and ashamed. Billy knows I have. (She bows her head.) Mary Anne. Don’t speak of that, Elaine. Every¬ thing is all right with you and Billy now. You’re go¬ ing to be happy. And I’m so glad for both of you! Elaine. (As she and Marion go toward dining¬ room together) And our wish, Marion—Billy’s GOLDEN DAYS 12 9 and mine—is to see you happy also. And—we be¬ lieve you’re going to be. (They exit together at right . Immediately Mrs. Kirkland, enters at r. and crosses agitatedly toward window, then down to door l. expec¬ tantly. Enter Dick l .) Dick. Hello, Aunty Kirk! Mrs. Kirkland. I thought that was your car I saw turning into the road, Dickie Stanhope. Dick. I surprised you, didn’t I? Mrs. Kirkland. (Embarrassed) Well, yes, you did. Mary Anne has company and- Dick. (Eagerly) She’s here? Mrs. Kirkland. Yes. Dick. Good! Which way do I go to find her? Mrs. Kirkland. (In pretended surprise) Oh, do you want to see her? Dick. Do I want to see her? I should say I do, and pick a bone with her for not answering my letters. I tried to get to her in France—but you know how things were there, not a chance in a thousand. Where is she? (Starts towards dining¬ room.) Mrs. Kirkland. (Coming between) I’m sorry, Dick, but I’m afraid you can’t see Mary Anne to¬ day. Dick. You mean she’s ill? Mrs. Kirkland. (Slowly) No, I mean I don’t think she cares to see you. Dick. (Horrified) Aunty Kirk! But why shouldn’t she? What have I done? Mrs. Kirkland. You wrote her a letter that hurt her terribly. Dick. (Downcast) Then my letter was the cause of her break with Billy? 130 GOLDEN DAYS Mrs. Kirkland. No, of course not. She broke with Billy before you left for France. Dick. Then how could my letter have hurt her so much ? Mrs. Kirkland. Because of the insinuation it carried. You said you were sorry you* had ever played that game together. Dick. (Impatient) No, not that letter. I wrote that one in France. Mrs. Kirkland. Well, that’s the only one she ever received. Dick. What? Why, no! I wrote first from Canada—a long letter—before we sailed. In it I told Mary Anne that I loved her. I thought that letter had fallen into Billy’s hands and was the cause of the quarrel between them. So I wrote, then, I was sorry- Mrs. Kirkland. You wrote Mary Anne first from Canada? Where did you send *that letter? Dick. Here. Mrs. Kirkland. Wait a minute. (She goes to door r. and looks out, beckons to her sister.) Amanda! Come here a minute. (Returns to Dick.,) I’m almost sure she never received that Canada let¬ ter. (Mrs. Simmonds enters r. Betsy enters after her.) Mrs. Simmonds. (To Betsy, pointing l.) Now, Betsy, it’s right there in the cabinet- (Sees Dick. Mrs. Simmonds goes c.) Oh, how do you do Mr. Stanhope? I’m right glad to see you. (Betsy looks for cake-knife in cabinet lJ Dick. How do you do, Mrs. Simmonds? Mrs. Kirkland. Amanda! (Betsy works over l.) Do you remember Mary Anne’s receiving a letter from Mr. Stanhope before she went to France? Mrs. Simmonds. (Shaking her head) Not that she ever told me. I believe she’d have told me if GOLDEN DAYS 131 she did. (To Dick.) Did you write her one? ("Dick nods.) And addressed it- Dick. Marion Simmonds, Farmdale—yes. (To Mrs. Kirkland .) I remember the letter well. It was written on hotel stationery from Quebec. It was a patent sort of an affair like a post card. Had a picture of the hotel and a waterfall on it. Mrs. Simmonds. No, I don’t think she-- Betsy. (Coming c.) I got that letter. Mrs. Kirkland. You! Betsy. I thought it was an advertisement with printin’ on the inside. It’s in the tobacco jar on the mantel. ("Mrs. Kirkland goes to tobacco jar.) Mrs. Simmonds. What in the world did you put it there for? Betsy. Well, you told me to. (Mrs. Kirkland gets letter and brings it to Dick.) Mrs. Simmonds. / did? (To Betsy.) What do you mean. I “told” you to? Betsy. I came to you and said, here’s an adver¬ tisement letter for Mary Anne, shall I give it to her? And you said “Certainly not, stick it in Mr. Sim¬ monds’ old tobacco-jar on the mantel shelf. What does anybody want with a letter?” Mrs. Simmonds. Land sakes, I can’t say a thing to that girl that she doesn’t take me literal. (Crosses r. and Betsy moves above table r.) Dick. That’s it all right. (Hands letter back to Mrs. Kirkland.) Mrs. Kirkland. (To Dick) And you said in that letter—all you’ve told me? Dick. More. Mrs. Kirkland. (Takes Dick down stage) Then you clear out. Hide around the corner of the porch. I’ll send for Marion. Betsy, you slip in and 132 GOLDEN DAYS tell Marion quietly that I *have some news for her and want to see her at once. Don’t mention Mr. Stanhope nor say anything else. Betsy. No’m! Mrs. Kirkland. And don’t come back. Mrs. Simmonds. (To Mrs. Kirkland) Don’t say that or she’ll stay away forever. (To Betsy.) She means right away. (Pushing Betsy off r.) Betsy. Yes’sum. (Exits r.) Dick. (Going l.) If there’s no hope for me after she’s read that letter, Aunty Kirk, step to the window and give me the tip. I’ll climb the hedge and vanish. Mrs. Kirkland. You’d better not vanish too soon. Dick. (Confidential manner) I’ll be right at the corner— by the rain-water barrel. (Exits l.) Mrs. Simmonds. Land! I wonder if he knows about Betsy? Mrs. Kirkland. Perhaps Mary Anne should have given him that treatment long ago. (She laughs.) Mrs. Simmonds. (To c.) Don’t talk foolish¬ ness ! Mrs. Kirkland. Amanda, when Mary Anne comes down try to look as though nothing had hap¬ pened. Mrs. Simmonds. I’ll go back to the young folks in the dining-room, I don’t know a thing. (Exits r. Outside r. she meets Mary Anne.) Go on in the sitting-room, child. Your auntie wants to talk to you. ("Mary Anne enters r.) Mary Anne. What is it, Aunty? WARN Curtain. Ready Chorus. Mrs. Kirkland. (Handing Mary Anne the letter.) Postmarked Quebec, Can., September 28th, 1917. GOLDEN DAYS 133 Mary Anne. (Recognises hand-writing) A let¬ ter from Dick —to me? Mrs. Kirkland. Betsy thought it was a post¬ card and stuck it in the tobacco-jar, and there it’s been ever since. Mary Anne. No? (She sits l. of table r. reading the letter. Mrs. Kirkland steals out of door r. Mary Anne’s face brightens as she proceeds. Dick enters l. and watches her. She, delighted with the let¬ ter, gives an ecstatic exclamation without know¬ ing he is there.) Mary Anne. (Looking at letter, dreamily) Dick! Dick. (Hearing his name, speaks quietly from across the room) Yes? Mary Anne. (Slowly rises and turns toward him. Speaks in half whisper) It’s a dream. You’re not real. Dick. I’m the realest boy that ever came back from the trenches. (Involuntarily she attempts to conceal letter behind her.) Yes, I know. I was here in the room when Auntie Kirk found that tardy letter. You believe what I said in it? Mary Anne. (Afraid to accept her happiness) It was written a long time ago, Dick. You must have changed since then. Dick. Is that just your way of letting me know you have changed towards" me—that you cannot for¬ give that other stupid letter? ("Mary Anne does not answer.) Mary Anne, has it all gone by forever? Mary Anne. (Earnestly) Hasn’t it? Dick. Not with me: There’s nothing I wouldn’t do to bring the old days back. Why do you look away from me? What are you thinking of, Mary Anne ? 134 GOLDEN DAYS Mary Anne. (Softly) Shall I tell you? Dick. Please. Mary Anne. Well, then, I’m thinking of a little secret poem I used to repeat when I first went to France, looking up at the stars, at night wondering where you were. Dick. What poem was that? Mary Anne. A poem in three words. (Softly, looking up as at the stars.) Je vows airne, Dick. Je vous airne, Je vous aime! (I love you, Dick, I love you, I love you.) RING. Dick. (Wild with joy) Mary Anne, T e vous adore! (Embrace. Crowd off sings, <{ Glory, glory, ukulele,” etc.) CURTAIN MUSIC CUES ACT II DANCE MUSIC CUES FOR BALL-ROOM MUSIC OFF L. No. i. At rise, play first strain only, the last sixteen bars heard off l. No. 2. Music off l. WARN on Elaine’s entrance. PLAY on “—about half-past six.” STOP on “ — doesn't even know how to dress.” Applause off l. No. 3. READY on Mary Anne’s entrance. PL A Y on (< Mr. T eddy Farnum, our T eddy-Bear.” STOP on “—sultry day for June.” e( Will you take me in?” Applause off l. CONTINUES on c( Oh! Teddy, you think you will have to.” STOP on “A hors de Combat. Oh, a fight.” No. 4. READY on “I forgot your fan.” PLAY on “What was it you were saying?” STOP on “Runs a tea-shop by day.” No. 5. READY on “Punch, punch, who'll have punch?” PLAY on “Just because you brought her to the party.” STOP on CURTAIN. DOROTHY’S NEIGHBORS. A brand new comedy in four acts, by Marie Doran, author of “The New Co-Ed,” “Tempest and Sunshine,” and many other successful plays. 4 males, 7 females. The scenes are extremely easy to arrange; two plain interiors and one exterior, a garden, or, if neces¬ sary, the two interiors will answer. Costumes modern. Plays 2J4 hours. The story is about vocational training, a subject now widely dis¬ cussed; also, the distribution of large wealth. Back of the comedy situation and snappy dialogue there is good logic and a sound moral in this pretty play, which is worthy the attention of the experienced amateur. It is a clean, wholesome play, particularly suited to high schooj production, Price, 20 Cents. MISS SOMEBODY ELSE. A modern play in four acts by Marion Short, author of “The Touchdown,” etc. 6 males, 10 females. Two interior scenes. Cos¬ tumes modern. Plays 2J4 hours. This delightful comedy has gripping dramatic moments, unusual character types, a striking and original plot and is essentially modem in theme and treatment. The story concerns the advetures of Con¬ stance Darcy, a multi-millionaire’s young daughter. Constance em¬ barks on a trip to find a young man who had been in her father’s employ and had stolen a large sum of money. She almost succeeds, when suddenly all traces of the young man are lost. At this point she meets some old friends who are living in almost want and, in order to assist them through motives benevolent, she determines to sink her own aristocratic personality In that of a refined but humble little Irish waitress with the family that are in want. She not only carries her scheme to success in assisting the family, but < finds romance and much tense and lively adventure during the period of her incognito, aside from capturing the young man who had defrauded her father. The story is full of bright comedy lines and dramatics situations and is highly recommended for amateur production. This is one of the best comedies we have ever offered with a large num ber of female characters. The dialogue is bright and the play is full of action from start to finish; not a dull moment in it. This is a great comedy for high schools and colleges, and the wholesome story will please the parents and teachers. We strongly recommend it. Price, 30 Cents* PURPLE AND FINE LINEN. An exceptionally pretty comedy of Puritan New England, in three acts, by Amita B. Fairgrieve and Helena Miller. 9 # male, 5 female characters. This is the Lend A Hand Smith College prize play. It is an ad¬ mirable play for amateurs, is rich in character portrayal of varied types and is not too difficult while thoroughly pleasing. Price, 30 Cent*, (The Above Are Subject to Royalty When Produced) SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38tb Street, New York City New asd Explicit Descriptive Catalogue Mailed free «n Request The Touch-Down A eomedy in four acts, by Marion Short. 8 males, 6 females, but any number of characters can be introduced in the ensembles. Cos¬ tumes modern. One interior scene throughout the play. Time, 2J4 hours. This play, written for the use of clever amateurs, is the story of life in Siddell, a Pennsylvania co-educational college. It deals with the vicissitudes and final triumph of the Siddell Football Eleven, and the humorous and dramatic incidents connected therewith. “The Touch-Down” has the true varsity atmosphere, college songs are sung, and the piece is lively and entertaining throughout. High schools will make no mistake in producing this play. We strongly recommend it as a high-class and well-written comedy. Price. 30 Cents, Hurry, Hurry, Hurry A comedy in three acts, by LeRoy Arnold. 5 males, 4 females. One interior scene. Costumes modern. Plays 2 x /\ hours. The story is based on the will of an eccentric aunt. It stipulates that her pretty niece must be affianced before she is twenty-one. and married to her fiance within a year, if she is to get her spinster relative’s million. Father has nice notions of honor and fails to tell daughter about the will, so that she may make her choice untram¬ meled by any other consideration than that of true love. The action all takes place in the evening the midnight of which will see her reach twenty-one. Time is therefore short, and it is hurry, hurry, hurry, if she is to become engaged and thus save her father from impending bankruptcy. The situations are intrinsically funny and the dialogue is sprightly. The characters are natural and unaffected and the action moves with a snap such as should be expected from its title. Price, 30 Cents, The Varsity Coach A three-act play of college life, by Marion Short, specially adapted to performance by amateurs or high school students. 5 males 6 females, but any number of boys and girls may be introduced in the action of the play. Two settings necessary, a college boy’s room and the university campus. Time, about 2 hours. Like many another college boy, “Bob” Selby, an all-round popular college man, becomes possessed of the idea that athletic prowess is more to be desired than scholarship. He is surprised in the midst of a “spread” in his room in Regatta week by a visit from his aunt who is putting him through college. Aunt Serena, “a lady of the old school and the dearest little woman in the whole world,” has hastened to make this visit to her adored nephew under the mistaken impression that he is about to receive the Fellowes prize for scholarship. Her K ief and chagrin when she learns that instead of the prize Robert a received “a pink card,” which is equivalent to suspension for poor scholarship, gives a touch of pathos to an otherwise jolly comedy of college life. How the repentant Robert more than redeems himself, carries off honors at the last, and in the end wins Ruth, the faithful little sweetheart of the “Prom” and the classroom, makes a story of dramatic interest and brings out very clearly certain phases of modern college life. There are several opportunities for the introduction of college songs and “stunts.” Price, 30 Cents. (The Above Are 8ubject to Royalty When Produced) SAMUEL FRENCH, 28-30 West 38th Street, New York City Niw tad fxpflctt Descriptive Catalogue Mailed Fret ei Request FRENCH’S Standard Library Edition Clyde Fitch William Gillette Augustus Thomas George Broadhurst Edward E. Kidder Percy Mac Kaye Sir Arthur Conan Doyle Louis N. Parker R. C. Carton Alfred Sutro Richard Harding Davis Sir Arthur W. Pinero Anthony Hope Oscar Wilde H addon Chambers Jerome K. Jerome Cosmo Gordon Lennox H. V. Esmond Mark Swan Grace L. Fumiss Marguerite Merrington Hermann Sudermann Rida Johnson Young Arthur Law Rachel Crothers Martha Morton H. A. Du Souchet W. W. Jacobs Madeleine Lucette Ryley Includes Plays by Booth Tarkington J. hartley Manners James Forbes James Montgomery Wm. C. de Mille Roi Cooper Megrue Edward E. Rose Israel Zangwill Henry Bernstein Harold Brighouse Channing Pollock Harry Durant Winchell Smith Margaret Mayo Edward Peple A. E. W. Mason Charles Klein Henry Arthur Jones A. E. Thomas Fred. Ballard Cyril Harcourt Carlisle Moore Ernest Denny Laurence Housman Harry James Smith Edgar Selwyn Augustin McHugh Robert Housum Charles Kenyon C. M. S. McLellan French’s International Copyrighted Edition con¬ tains plays, comedies and farces of international reputation; also recent professional successes by famous American and English Authors. Send a four-cent stamp for our new catalogue describing thousands of plays. SAMUEL FRENCH Oldest Play Publisher in the World 28-30 West 38th. Street, NEW YORK CITY