A Singular Sampling of Sensational Stories by O. Henry

Dramatized by Joellen K. Bland

© Copyright 2004, Pioneer Drama Service, Inc.

Performance LicenseThe amateur and professional acting rights to this play are controlled by Pioneer Drama Service, Inc., PO Box 4267, Englewood, Colorado 80155, without whose permission no performance, reading or presentation of any kind may be given.

On all programs and advertising this notice must appear:1. The full name of the play2. The full name of the playwright3. The following credit line: “Produced by special arrangement

with Pioneer Drama Service, Inc., Englewood, Colorado.”

COPYING OR REPRODUCING ALL OR ANY PART OF THIS BOOK IN ANY MANNER IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN BY LAW.All other rights in this play, including those of professional production, radio broadcasting and motion picture rights, are controlled by Pioneer Drama Service, Inc. to whom all inquiries should be addressed.

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effect, you may wish to use additional techniques, such as blue dreamy lights, fog or a recurring sound effect. One idea is to play a recording of voices reading snatches of O. Henry stories, perhaps over a selection of period-appropriate music. Another idea might be to have characters from the story—or even some sort of costumed “book fairy”—take the book from LANE or LUPE upon entering, bring it into the scene and then return it to him/her when the story is over. Whether you go for artsy or nuts and bolts, the idea is to transport the audience into the world of the book, as all readers are when absorbed in a good read.

FLEXIBLE CASTINGThe narrators—with the exception of TAL—are onstage continuously and therefore cannot double parts. All other characters are only in one scene, so actors can play multiple parts, if desired. The minimum number of actors needed is three males and three females plus three additional actors of either sex for the narrators (TAL can be doubled with story characters.) There are a maximum of 38 parts available: 15 male, 11 female and 12 that can be played by either sex.Some of the male characters in the original stories have been dramatized here as female characters in order to accommodate the majority of theatre groups which have more actresses than actors.The following characters can be played as either male or female: Narrators LUPE LANE CHRIS TAL“Hearts and Hands” PASSENGER“The Pimienta Pancakes” AUNT EMILY (originally UNCLE EMSLEY)“The Whirligig of Life” STORYTELLER“Mammon and the Archer”: ANTONIA ROCKWALL (originally ANTHONY)“The Last Leaf” DOCTOR“Transients in Arcadia” MISS FARRINGTON (originally HAROLD FARRINGTON/

JAMES McMANUS)“Makes the Whole World Kin” STORYTELLER“The Count and the Wedding Guest” MRS. SCOTT

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JOOKALORUM!A Singular Sampling of Sensational Stories by O. Henry

Dramatized by Joellen K. Bland

CAST OF CHARACTERS# of lines

NarratorsLUPE ......................................... O. Henry expert 56LANE ......................................... skeptic 44CHRIS ....................................... O. Henry fan 42TAL ............................................ pool-goer 4

The Ransom of MackMACK LONSBURY ................... prospector, age 40 14ANDY ......................................... younger prospector 26MISS REBOSA REED ............... young lady, age 19 11

Hearts and HandsMISS FAIRCHILD ...................... pretty young lady, elegantly 16

dressedMR. EASTON ............................ handsome young man, 9

well dressedOTHER MAN ............................. rough-looking, rumpled, shabby 5PASSENGER ............................ sharp-eyed woman 4

The Pimienta PancakesCOWBOY .................................. injured cattle hand 4JUD ODOM ............................... cattle camp cook 22AUNT EMILY TELFAIR .............. storekeeper 9JACKSON BIRD ........................ sheep rancher (known as a 9

“snoozer”)MISS WILLELLA LEARIGHT ..... Aunt Emily’s young niece 1

The Whirligig of LifeSTORYTELLER ......................... man or woman 5BENAJA WIDDUP ..................... justice of the peace 10RANSIE BILBRO ....................... young mountain man 16ARIELA BILBRO ........................ his young wife 13

ONSTAGE, “Makes the Whole World Kin”: Armchair, ottoman, straight chair, table with crumpled roll of bills,

watch, keys, three poker chips, pink silk hair bowBROUGHT ON, “Makes the Whole World Kin”: Pistol (BURGLAR)ONSTAGE, “The Count and the Wedding Guest” Porch steps, benchBROUGHT ON, “The Count and the Wedding Guest” Broom (MRS. SCOTT) Black handkerchief, purse, locket (MISS CONWAY)BROUGHT ON, Closing sequence: Towel (TAL)

COSTUMESThe narrators (LUPE, LANE, CHRIS and TAL) wear contemporary poolside attire: shorts, t-shirts, sunhats, beach sandals, etc. For a comic touch, zinc oxide on LUPE’S nose would be amusing. In general, basic period attire (early 20th century) is appropriate for all the story characters: long, full skirts, perhaps with bustles, and high-necked, long-sleeved blouses for the women; slim trousers, long-sleeved buttoned shirts and long jackets for the men. Special costume requirements for the stories are as follows:“The Ransom of Mack”: MACK wears a stiff black suit, white shirt, tie,

top hat, and patent leather shoes. In his second appearance he wears comfortable old clothes and perhaps slippers. ANDY wears “traveling clothes,” i.e., not fancy. MISS REBOSA is all dressed up and wears a fancy hat, perhaps with large pansies on it.

“Pimienta Pancakes”: Cowboy attire for JUD and the COWBOY, and somewhat dandier cowboy attire for JACKSON. AUNT EMILY wears an apron. WIILLELLA is fancied up.

“Whirligig of Life”: RANSIE and ARIELA are obviously impoverished rural folk and may be somewhat tattered; ARIELA is barefoot.

“Mammon and the Archer”: ROSIE wears a maid’s out t with long dress and white apron.

“Makes the Whole World Kin”: BURGLAR wears a green sweater.“The Count and the Wedding Guest”: MISS CONWAY wears a black

dress and a black hat with a black veil.

SCENE TRANSITIONSWhenever a new story begins, the dramatic aim is to show that LANE is “entering” the world of the book. This can be achieved in a very basic way by simply having a tight spot come up on the book. If you have at your disposal more resources and wish to create a more dramatic

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Mammon and the ArcherANTONIA ROCKWALL .............. peppery, wealthy widow 16RICHARD ROCKWALL ............. her son 12ROSIE KELLY ........................... her Irish housekeeper 11ELLEN ....................................... her sentimental sister 7MISS LANTRY ........................... object of Richard’s affections 3TIM KELLY ................................ gardener, Rosie’s brother 6

The Last LeafSUE ........................................... young artist 25JOHNSY .................................... young artist, very ill (female) 13DOCTOR ................................... busy with house-calls 4MR. BEHRMAN ......................... old artist 8

Transients in ArcadiaMISS BEAUMONT .................... cosmopolitan hotel guest 15MISS FARRINGTON ................. another 15

Makes the Whole World KinSTORYTELLER ......................... citizen’s niece or nephew 2BURGLAR ................................. de es classi cation 18CITIZEN..................................... rheumatoid 18

The Count and the Wedding GuestMISS MAGGIE CONWAY .......... young lady in “mourning” 23ANDY DONOVAN ...................... young man 24MRS. SCOTT ............................ landlady and storyteller 2

PRODUCTION NOTESPROPERTIES

ONSTAGE, Opening Sequence: Three lawn chairs, optional poolside accessories such as a

shade umbrella, small tables, sunscreen and drinksBROUGHT ON, Opening Sequence: Books (LUPE and CHRIS) Magazine (LANE)ONSTAGE, “The Ransom of Mack”: Porch steps, rocking chairBROUGHT ON, “The Ransom of Mack”: Suitcase (ANDY) Parasol (MISS REBOSA) Large history book (MACK)ONSTAGE, “Hearts and Hands”: Four benchesBROUGHT ON, “Hearts and Hands”: Handcuffs (EASTON)ONSTAGE, “Pimienta Pancakes”: Small table, wild owers, counter and chairBROUGHT ON, “Pimienta Pancakes”: Pistol, tin pan (JUD) Open fruit can, big spoon, gun, letter (AUNT EMILY) Hat (JACKSON)ONSTAGE, “Whirligig of Life” Tall desk, stool, rocking chair, benchBROUGHT ON, “Whirligig of Life” Big book, hat, paper and pen, gavel, Bible (BENAJA) Five-dollar bill, cardboard cutout bush, hat, bandana, ri e

(RANSIE)ONSTAGE, “Mammon and the Archer” Table and three chairs, benchBROUGHT ON, “Mammon and the Archer” Ledger book, checkbook or two checks (ANTONIA) Pen, ink bottle (ROSIE) Needlework, ring box with ring (ELLEN) Hat (TIM)ONSTAGE, “The Last Leaf”: Bed, table, chair, stool, easel with blank canvasBROUGHT ON, “The Last Leaf”: Handkerchief (SUE)ONSTAGE, “Transients in Arcadia”: Dining table, two chairs, two wine glassesBROUGHT ON, “Transients in Arcadia”: Purse, dollar bill (MISS BEAUMONT)

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SETTINGThis play is a blending of narrations and dramatized stories, with the narrators at FAR RIGHT, observing the scenes as they are played out at LEFT and CENTER. The stage is set up with simple area staging: the narrators’ area FAR RIGHT is set up as a poolside, with three reclining lawn chairs and whatever other optional props you may wish to use to add to the effect, such as a sun umbrella, small tables for drinks, towels, bottles of sunscreen and so on. The storytelling area at LEFT and CENTER will change for each story, with simple props brought on to indicate each scene. The narration sequences take place on a lazy summer afternoon in the present day. The stories unfold in O. Henry’s day, in the early twentieth century.

CHRIS: (Laughs.) Now that’s what I call a bizarre love triangle!LUPE: (Snaps book shut.) And there you are! Nine sensational

stories by O. Henry.LANE: (To himself.) I just spent an entire day sandwiched between

two O. Henry nuts.LUPE: (Looks at watch.) An entire day? Yikes, you’re right, it’s late.CHRIS: It’s easy to lose track of time when you’re wrapped up in a

good read.LUPE: No kidding. (To LANE.) Well, we O. Henry nuts have to get

going now, so we’ll get out of your hair and let you get back to your beauty sleep. (LUPE and CHRIS collect their things.)

CHRIS: We’ll see you around! (They EXIT RIGHT, leaving the book behind.)

LANE: (Lies back to relax. A few moments after they’re OUT, he looks furtively to make sure they’re gone, then picks up the book and ips through the pages. TAL ENTERS RIGHT with towel and sits on lawn chair next to LANE. Talks softly to him/herself.)Jookalorum… Jookalorum…

TAL: Excuse me, did you say something?LANE: Jookalorum!TAL: Huh?LANE: An O. Henryism.TAL: O. Henryism? What’s that? (LIGHTS SLOWLY begin to FADE

OUT.)LANE: O. Henry used it in one of his great stories. It means

“Something special. Something sensational.”TAL: (Interested.) Oh?LANE: Like this book I’m reading… (BLACKOUT.)

END OF PLAY

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JOOKALORUM!

LIGHTS UP RIGHT: LUPE, LANE and CHRIS are seated in comfortable reclining lawn chairs at FAR RIGHT, LUPE and CHRIS reading books, LANE reading a magazine. LUPE and CHRIS seem very interested in their books, LANE seems bored. At LEFT, in the darkness, is a front porch setting with a rocking chair.LUPE: (Suddenly, with a cheerful laugh.) Jookalorum!LANE: (Startled.) Jooka—what? What are you talking about?LUPE: It’s an O. Henryism.LANE: O. Henryism?LUPE: O. Henry used it in one of his great stories. It means something

special. Something sensational!LANE: I thought O. Henry was a candy bar.CHRIS: If you’d read more, you’d know that O. Henry was one of the

most popular American short story writers ever.LANE: Read? (Indicates magazine.) This is about as much reading

as I’m up for. Summer’s a time to relax and enjoy, get away…LUPE: I am getting away—into my book!LANE: (Nudges CHRIS, referring to LUPE.) Nerd alert!CHRIS: Don’t knock it until you try it. Lupe and I did our English

project on O. Henry, and we’ve both read a bunch of his stuff since then. Lupe, you should give that book to Lane to read.

LUPE: (Holds book up.) “A Singular Sampling of Sensational Stories by O. Henry.” He wrote more than 500 stories between 1897 and 1910.

CHRIS: Can you imagine writing 500 stories in just 13 years? That really is sensational.

LANE: (Dubious.) I don’t see what could be so sensational about some stuffy old author.

LUPE: Oh, no, he’s not stuffy at all. He’s great. He uses all this verbal trickery and comic invention…

CHRIS: Yeah, and he’s famous for his surprise endings. He’s also known for being quintessentially American. With the possible exception of Mark Twain, I’d say that O. Henry is probably the most typically American short story writer. (LUPE agrees.)

LANE: Why the name O. Henry?LUPE: A pseudonym.LANE: A what?LUPE: A pseudonym. Pen name.

MISS CONWAY: Oh, it’s something about politics, I suppose. But that’s no reason why you can’t smile at me.

DONOVAN: (Pause.) Maggie, I have to ask you this. It’s taking all my courage to do it, but… do… do you think as much of me… as you did of your… Count Mazzini? I have to know!

MISS CONWAY: (Turns away from him, then suddenly bursts into tears.) Oh, Andy!

DONOVAN: There, there, Maggie. I’m sorry. I guess you still have feelings for him.

MISS CONWAY: Oh, no, no, I don’t! Oh, Andy, I lied to you, and now you’ll never marry me or love me any more!

DONOVAN: What?MISS CONWAY: I’ve got to tell you. I can’t keep it to myself any

longer. There… there never was a Count Fernando Mazzini!DONOVAN: There wasn’t?MISS CONWAY: No. You see, I made him up!DONOVAN: Made him up? But why?MAGGIE: Well, I never had a beau in my life. All the other girls had,

and they talked about ’em and it made me so sad and lonesome, I just had to do something! Well, I know I look swell in black. You know I do! So one day I went out to a photograph store and bought that little picture for my locket. It was such a handsome picture, and then I made up that story about the Count and about his being killed, so I could wear black and look swell and nd myself a man! (Sobs.) Oh, nobody can love a liar, and I’ll die for shame! But there never was anybody I liked as much as you. Never anybody I come to love but you! (He looks at her in astonishment.) Oh, Andy, can you ever forgive me?

DONOVAN: (With a big smile of relief, takes her into his arms.) Why, sure, Maggie, darlin’, it’s all right. You’ve straightened everything out for me just ne. I was sure hoping you would before the wedding day.

MISS CONWAY: Are you sure you forgive me?DONOVAN: I’m sure! And now I’ll invite Big Mike to the wedding.MISS CONWAY: I’ll be glad to meet him now. But, Andy, did… did you

really believe my story about the Count?DONOVAN: Well, no, not to any large extent, because you see,

Maggie, darlin’, that was Big Mike Sullivan’s picture you had in your locket! (LIGHTS OUT LEFT. MISS CONWAY and DONOVAN EXIT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

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CHRIS: Some say he got the name “O. Henry” from hearing his family call the cat. “Oh, Henry! Here, kitty, kitty!”

LANE: Hey, that’s kind of funny.CHRIS: That’s what we’re trying to tell you, O. Henry has a great

sense of humor!LANE: So what’s his real name?LUPE: He was born William Sydney Porter, September 11, 1862,

in Greensboro, North Carolina. His dad was a middle-class, alcoholic doctor, and his mother died of tuberculosis when he was only three. He was raised by an aunt who gave him a rudimentary education and encouraged him to read. Which he did.

LANE: (Dry.) Good for him.LUPE: At age 15, he was apprenticed to a pharmacist and became

one at age 19. When he was 20—LANE: What are you, his biographer? (Returns to magazine.)LUPE: —his doctor didn’t like the sound of his lungs and told him to

move to Texas. So he worked on sheep and cattle ranches for a few years.

CHRIS: That’d be enough to make me look for a desk job.LUPE: Yeah, that’s exactly what he did. He tried his hand as a bank

teller, a sketch artist, a draftsman and also as a humor columnist for “The Houston Post.” Then… bad luck! (LANE raises an eyebrow, but is barely interested.)

CHRIS: I’ll say. He was arrested!LANE: (Without raising his eyes.) O. Henry, the bad boy from Texas.LUPE: Indicted for allegedly embezzling funds from the bank. Tried

and sentenced to ve years… Ohio State Penitentiary!CHRIS: He was pretty embarrassed by the whole thing. He never

stopped saying he was innocent. He was determined to make the best of his situation, though, and while he was in jail, he started writing stories based on his own life experiences.

LUPE: And since he didn’t want to publish them under his real name…

LANE: (Joins in.) …he took on the pseudonym, O. Henry.LUPE: Right.CHRIS: (Pats LANE on the head, in congratulations for catching on.)

You’re a smart duck.LANE: (Sarcastic, glares at CHRIS.) Quack.LUPE: Then… good luck came his way.LANE: The O. Henry biographer continues…

MRS. SCOTT: (ENTERS RIGHT, with her broom.) Well, Miss Conway continued to wear black, but she began to keep company with Mr. Donovan. Then, a month later, she and Mr. Donovan announced their engagement. But a week after the announcement, I saw the two of them sitting on that same park bench across the street. Mr. Donovan had worn a gloomy look all day, and I had never seen him so quiet. It just wasn’t like him to be that way. Something just wasn’t right. (EXITS RIGHT. DONOVAN and MISS CONWAY ENTER LEFT and sit on park bench.)

MISS CONWAY: What’s the matter, Andy? You’re so solemn and gloomy tonight.

DONOVAN: It’s nothing, Maggie.MISS CONWAY: I know better. You never acted this way before. What

is it?DONOVAN: It’s nothing much.MISS CONWAY: Yes, it is! And I want to know! (He says nothing.)

I’ll bet it’s some other girl you’re thinking about! Well, if that’s the case, why don’t you go be with her?

DONOVAN: No, Maggie, it’s not that! There’s no other girl! Honest!MISS CONWAY: Then what is it? Tell me!DONOVAN: All right, I’ll tell you, but I guess you won’t understand.

(Pause.) You’ve heard of Big Mike Sullivan, haven’t you?MISS CONWAY: No, I haven’t, and I don’t want to if he makes you act

like this. Who is he?DONOVAN: (Reverent.) Why, he’s the biggest man in New York! He

can do about anything he wants to in the political line. He’s a mile high and as broad as the East River! You say anything against Big Mike, and you’ll have a million men on your collarbone in about two seconds! (Pause.) Well, Big Mike’s a friend of mine, and he’s as good a friend to a poor man as he is to a rich one. I met him today on the Bowery, and what do you think he does? Comes up and shakes hands with me, so I tells him I’m going to get married in two weeks. Well! “Andy,” he says, “send me an invitation and I’ll come to your wedding!” Oh, Maggie, it would be the proudest day of my life if Big Mike Sullivan came to our wedding! When he goes to a man’s wedding, that man is made for life! That’s why I’m looking sore tonight.

MISS CONWAY: Well, what’s to be sore about? Why don’t you invite him to the wedding?

DONOVAN: (Sad.) There’s a very good reason why I can’t invite him. Don’t ask me what it is… I can’t tell you.

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CHRIS: (To LANE.) Oh, Lupe’s on a roll now… just you wait!LUPE: (Continues.) He was released from prison after three years,

and he moved to New York City… which he always referred to as “Baghdad on the Subway.” It was a real cultural awakening for him. He took the characters and places and that New York local color and he used them to avor his stories. And people loved it. They just ate it up.

CHRIS: Yeah, New York really opened him up in terms of his work. He just had this explosion of creative activity. But health-wise, he really suffered there, and after less than ten years, he died.

LUPE: June 5, 1910.LANE: So he hadn’t even turned 48.CHRIS: Look who’s the math whiz!LANE: It’s a skill.LUPE: Mmmm. Kinda like remembering biographical facts.LANE: Mmmm. (Rolls his eyes at LUPE.)CHRIS: Think what he could have done if only he had lived longer!LUPE: But even in this really short lifespan, he created a huge body

of work. I mean, he left just a treasure trove of stories. He wrote about the common man and woman—cowboys and prospectors, shop girls and struggling artists, cashiers and waitresses, bums and cab drivers, parents and neighbors and young lovers and old folks.

CHRIS: He had a lot of sympathy for those people.LUPE: He really did, and I think that’s one of the beauties of his work,

because he wrote truly about how life was lived by real people in the early twentieth century. That’s what made him so popular at the time, and it’s also what makes his work still so popular now, both because he captured the spirit of the times—and people still are interested in that—and because he captured human nature.

LANE: (Still skeptical.) I still don’t know what could be so “jookalorum” about a few short stories.

LUPE: Oh, you’re gonna love these. (Flips through book.) Let’s see, what would be a good one to start with… I think you should try one from his “Heart of the West” collection. He really captures the West, the way the people talk, the setting… they’re all good, but I like his humorous side, especially when he deals with the gentle art of romance. (Stops ipping pages, looks at book, satis ed and then holds out book to LANE.) Here, try this one. (LANE hesitates, dubious.) Oh, come on, this is a really great story. It’s called “The Ransom of Mack.”

MISS CONWAY: (Sighs.) He was my ancé. We were going to be married next spring. He was a real Count and had a castle in Italy. Count Fernando Mazzini was his name, and I never saw the beat of him for elegance. Papa objected, of course, and once we tried to elope, but Papa overtook us and brought us back to Poughkeepsie. I thought sure Papa and Fernando would ght a duel, but nally, Papa came ‘round and said we might be married. Then Fernando went back to Italy to get the castle xed up for us. Papa’s very proud, and when Fernando wanted to give me several thousand dollars for my trousseau, he called him down something awful. He wouldn’t even let me take a ring or any presents from him. And when Fernando sailed, I came to the city and got a position as cashier in a candy store and took a room in Mrs. Scott’s boardinghouse. (Pauses to snif e.)

DONOVAN: I’m sure glad you came to Mrs. Scott’s, Miss Conway. It’s a ne place to live, and I never would have met you if you hadn’t!

MISS CONWAY: Three days ago I got a letter from Italy, saying that… that Fernando had been killed… in a gondola accident! (Sobs into her black handkerchief.) That’s why I’m in mourning, Mr. Donovan. My heart will remain forever in Fernando’s grave.

DONOVAN: (Gentle.) I’m awful sorry, Miss Conway. And don’t say you have no friends in this city. I’m awful sorry, and I want you to believe I’m your friend, and that I’m awful sorry.

MISS CONWAY: Thank you. I’ve got his picture here in my locket. I never showed it to anybody, but I’ll let you see it, Mr. Donovan, because I believe you to be a true friend. (Takes locket from her purse, opens it and shows it to him.)

DONOVAN: (Looks at the photo, startled.) This is Count Fernando Mazzini?

MISS CONWAY: Yes. Count Fernando Mazzini… that was. (Sobs.)DONOVAN: Well, he appears to be a strong, cheerful man who must

have been a leader among his fellows.MISS CONWAY: He gave me his picture before he left for Italy. It’s

all I have to remind me of him… but he will always be in my heart. (Puts locket away.)

DONOVAN: A ne looking man! (Pause.) Say, how would it suit you, Miss Conway, to give me the pleasure of your company to Coney Island next Sunday afternoon? It might be a nice diversion for you.

MISS CONWAY: Well… yes, that might be a diversion to my liking, Mr. Donovan. (DONOVAN stands, offers her his arm, and they stroll OFF LEFT.)

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LANE: (Hesitates.) What’s it about?LUPE: (Continues to hold out book.) It’ll take you on a voyage to

the lazy little town of Piña (“Peen-ya.”), Colorado, about thirty miles out from Denver, where you’ll discover how friendship can sometimes take a very strange turn when romance is concerned. (Shakes book, arm still outstretched.) Come on, my arm’s getting tired…

LANE: (Finally takes book from LUPE.) Oh, all right, all right. Anything to get you to quit lecturing me on the guy!

LUPE: Bravo! You won’t regret it. (LIGHTS DIM RIGHT and a tight SPOT COMES UP on the book as LANE “enters” the world of the book. [See Production Notes.] LIGHTS UP LEFT.) It starts off with Mack, a seasoned prospector who has reached the ripe old age of 40… (MACK, wearing a stiff black suit, white shirt, tie, top hat and patent leather shoes, stands on the porch, looking of cial and important.) …and Andy, a younger prospector… (ANDY, in traveling clothes, ENTERS LEFT, carrying a battered suitcase.)…good friends and partners, solid, loyal and always watching out for each other. (LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

“The Ransom of Mack”SETTING: The front porch of a cabin and the street in front of it. There is a rocking chair on the porch.ANDY: (At sight of MACK, he drops the suitcase in surprise.) Mack!

Is that you?MACK: Why, hello, Andy! Glad to see you back from New Mexico!

Things have been happenin’ around here in the two months you’ve been away.

ANDY: I can see that! And a sacrilegious sight you are, too! (Walks around MACK, eyeing his clothes in amazement.) God never made you that way, Mack Lonsbury! Why do you scarify His works with this presumptuous kind of ribaldry?

MACK: Why, Andy, the town of Piña has elected me justice of the peace.

ANDY: I can’t believe my eyes! When I left, you were shabby and comfortable, sitting in your rocking chair with your feet propped up, reading Buckle’s “History of Civilization.” You were the picture of contentment.

MACK: (Calm.) I am still content, Andy.ANDY: But Mack, didn’t we work hard together for three years at the

Little Hide-and-Seek Mine?

“The Count and the Wedding Guest”SETTING: The front steps of a New York boardinghouse and a park bench at LEFT.LIGHTS UP LEFT: MRS. SCOTT is sweeping the steps.MRS. SCOTT: (Sweeps.) Several weeks ago, in my boardinghouse

here, I introduced a new boarder, Miss Conway, to my longtime boarder, Mr. Donovan. At that time Miss Conway wore a plain, stuffy brown dress and politely nodded at Mr. Donovan, who bowed and politely erased her from his consideration. Then, one evening, what did I see, as Mr. Donovan was enjoying the evening air right here on my front steps? (DONOVAN ENTERS LEFT and sits on steps.) Miss Conway appeared (MISS CONWAY ENTERS RIGHT.), wearing a night-black dress and a black hat with a black veil as lmy as a spider’s web! Not a speck of white or a spot of color about her anywhere! All in black, and a faraway look in her eyes, as if her young life had been blighted forever. Mr. Donovan turned his head… and had his head turned! (EXITS RIGHT, looking back at the two with a sly glance.)

DONOVAN: (Jumps up with a bow and a smile.) It’s a ne, clear evening, Miss Conway. Won’t you sit down?

MISS CONWAY: (Languid, sighs.) No, thank you, Mr. Donovan. It is a ne, clear evening only to them that has the heart to enjoy it.

DONOVAN: I’m so sorry. I hope you haven’t sustained… a loss?MISS CONWAY: Death has claimed one who… who… oh, but I will

not intrude my grief upon you, Mr. Donovan.DONOVAN: Intrude? Why, Miss Conway, I’d be delighted—that is, I’d

be sorry—I mean, I’m sure nobody could sympathize with you any truer than I could.

MISS CONWAY: (Gives a sad little laugh.) I have no friends or acquaintances in this city, but you have been kind to me. Still, I would not burden you with my troubles.

DONOVAN: It’s tough to be alone in New York, that’s a cinch! But say, whenever this little old town does loosen up and get friendly, it goes the limit! If you took a little stroll in the park with me, Miss Conway, don’t you think it might chase away some of your mullygrubs?

MISS CONWAY: (Demure.) Thanks, Mr. Donovan, I’d be pleased to accept your escort, if you think the company of one whose heart is lled with gloom could be anyways agreeable.

DONOVAN: I’d be delighted, Miss Conway. (Offers her his arm and they stroll slowly LEFT to the park bench and sit down.)

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MACK: We did.ANDY: And didn’t we haul out forty thousand dollars apiece in gold

and decide to spend some of it and enjoy ourselves?MACK: We did.ANDY: And didn’t we nd this elegant two-room house and hire

a Chinese cook that can mess up the atmosphere with the handsomest smell of ham and eggs that ever laid the honeysuckle in the shade?

MACK: We did.ANDY: Riches has brought us happiness, ol’ feller! Ain’t we spent

many a cool, dark evening, lightin’ our pipes and talkin’ about science and pearl diving and sciatica and Egypt and spelling and sh and trade-winds and leather and gratitude and eagles, and a lot of other subjects that we’d never had time to explain our sentiments about before?

MACK: There’s no doubt about it, Andy. We have. We have been self-indulgent and gratifying without vulgar ostentation.

ANDY: Then why are you all dressed up like this and— (MISSREBOSA REED, all dressed up and carrying a parasol, ENTERS RIGHT.)

MACK: (Tips his hat, bows and smiles.) Afternoon, Miss Rebosa!ANDY: (Likewise, tips his hat, bows and smiles.) Afternoon!MISS REBOSA: (Stops, smiles at MACK.) Afternoon, Mr. Lonsbury!

(Glances at ANDY, then moves on.) Humph! (EXITS LEFT.)ANDY: (Disgusted, as MACK looks after her.) Surely you’re not

hankerin’ after women folks at your age! You always told me you’d let all your chances go by.

MACK: Did I say that?ANDY: Yes, you did. And you also asked me once if I was aware

of the habits and policies of women folks, and I told you that I was well aware of fem-i-nine nature. All their little side-steps and discrepancies is as plain to my sight as the Rocky Mountains is to a blue-eyed burro! And I warned you about them. I told you that it takes a man like me, who understands the symptoms and byplays of women, to take care of himself in this world. Now, Mack, you have just passed 40. You better back off from certain disaster while you can.

MACK: (Smiles after MISS REBOSA.) Tonight, I’m going to marry Miss Rebosa. She’s a living angel right here on earth, don’t you think, Andy? (EXITS LEFT into the cabin.)

CITIZEN: Slop! Might as well rub on butter!BURGLAR: I tell you, I nd only one thing that eases her up, and that’s

little old, lest-we-forget booze! Say, this job’s off. Get your clothes on and let’s go out for a drink. (Winces.) Ouch! There she goes again.

CITIZEN: For a week I haven’t been able to dress myself without help.BURGLAR: Get up. I’ll help you into your duds. (Slaps him cordially

on the shoulder.)CITIZEN: (In pain.) Ah-h!BURGLAR: Oh! Sorry!CITIZEN: This is very unusual.BURGLAR: Come on, up you go! (Helps him up, pulling on the left

shoulder.)CITIZEN: Ah-h!BURGLAR: Sorry! Say, I know a man who said that Omberry’s

Ointment xed him up in two weeks so’s he could use both hands tying his tie.

CITIZEN: (Starts out LEFT with BURGLAR.) Omberry’s didn’t do me a lick of good. Oh! Wait! I forgot my money. (Looks on the table.)

BURGLAR: Never mind. (Leads him out.) I’ve got the price. (Pats his pocket.) Say, did you ever try witch hazel and oil of wintergreen?

CITIZEN: (As they go out.) No, I haven’t heard of that. Is it worth trying? (BURGLAR and CITIZEN EXIT LEFT.)

STORYTELLER: As I said before, the third type of burglar has not yet been recognized, or accepted, or, in this case, understood. My uncle didn’t call the police on this one, and he didn’t even try to gure it all out. He just enjoyed the man’s company and the chance to talk about their common af iction. (LIGHTS OUT LEFT. STORYTELLER EXITS. STRIKE armchair, ottoman, table and chair. Front steps of porch are BROUGHT ON CENTER, and a bench LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

CHRIS: You never know how a stranger is going to turn out, do you?LUPE: O. Henry teaches us a lot about passing judgment too quickly

on people. (Looks at LANE.) One of O. Henry’s favorite devices.CHRIS: How ‘bout a charming romance to nish off our little sampler?

“The Count and the Wedding Guest” is a good one.LUPE: You got it, my friend. (Flips pages. LIGHTS DIM RIGHT. SPOT

UP on book.) Picture the front steps of a New York boardinghouse and a little park just across the street, and the landlady, a Mrs. Scott, sweeping the steps and looking for someone to talk to. (LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

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ANDY: (Stares after him, aghast.) Marry Miss Rebosa… tonight? (Frantically, he runs after MISS REBOSA.) Miss Rebosa! Miss Rebosa! Wait! (Disappears OFF LEFT a moment, then returns, pulling a reluctant MISS REBOSA with him.) Miss Rebosa! I understand you are to be married tonight.

MISS REBOSA: Correct! You got any objections?ANDY: Miss Rebosa, that old dressed-up turkey-gobbler with patent

leather shoes on is my best friend. Why did you go and get him invested in this marriage business?

MISS REBOSA: Why, he was the only chance there was!ANDY: Miss Rebosa, with your good looks, you might pick any kind

of man. Old Mack ain’t the man you want. He was 22 when you was born! This bursting into sudden bloom won’t last with him. He’s all ventilated with oldness… and decay! He’s down with a severe case of Indian summer. Are you really bent on having this marriage occur?

MISS REBOSA: Why, sure I am, and so is somebody else, I reckon.ANDY: What time is it to take place?MISS REBOSA: At six o’clock at my house.ANDY: (Aside.) I’ve got to save old Mack, if I can. To have a good,

seasoned, ineligible man like him turn chicken for a girl is more than I can look on with easiness. I will draw upon my display of knowledge concerning the fem-i-nine intuitions of reason. (To MISS REBOSA.) Miss Rebosa, ain’t there some nice young man in this town that you think a heap of?

MISS REBOSA: Why, sure there is! What do you think? Gracious!ANDY: And does he like you?MISS REBOSA: He’s crazy about me! Ma has to wet down the front

steps to keep him from sitting there all the time. But I guess that’ll be all over after tonight.

ANDY: Then you don’t really experience any of this adoration called love for old Mack, do you?

MISS REBOSA: Why, no! I think he’s as dry as a lava bed! The idea!

ANDY: Ah! Then who is this young man that you like?MISS REBOSA: Eddie Bayles. He clerks in Crosby’s grocery, but he

don’t make but thirty- ve dollars a month.ANDY: (Thinks a moment.) Listen, if Eddie Bayles had a thousand

dollars in cash that could buy him a whole store of his own, would you consent to marry him at ve o’clock tonight?

CITIZEN: Was. The in ammation has gone down now.BURGLAR: Oh. (Suddenly winces in pain.) Ah-h!CITIZEN: (Irritable.) Don’t stand there making faces! If you’ve come

to burgle, why don’t you get on with it? There’s some stuff lying around the room.

BURGLAR: (Grins, sheepish.) It just socked me one. It’s good for you that rheumatism and me happens to be old pals. I got it in my left arm, too. Most anybody but me would have popped you when you couldn’t hoist that left claw of yours.

CITIZEN: How long have you had it?BURGLAR: Four years. And that ain’t all. Once you’ve got it, it’s the

rheumatic life forever.CITIZEN: (Interested.) Ever try rattlesnake oil?BURGLAR: Gallons of it! If all the rattlesnakes I’ve used the oil of was

strung out in a row, they’d reach eight times as far as Saturn, and the rattles could be heard in Valparaiso, Indiana, and back again!

CITIZEN: How about Chiselum’s pills?BURGLAR: Fudge! I took ’em for ve months. No good! I had some

relief the year I tried Finkelham’s Extract, Balm of Gilead Poultices and Pott’s Pain Pulverizer, but I think it was the lucky buckeye I carried in my pocket what done the trick.

CITIZEN: Is yours worse in the morning or at night?BURGLAR: Night, just when I’m busiest. Say, take down that arm

of yours. I guess you won’t make trouble. (Sits in chair and puts the pistol in his belt.) Say! Did you ever try Blickerstaff’s Blood Builder?

CITIZEN: No, I never did. Does yours come in paroxysms, or is it a steady pain?

BURGLAR: It jumps. Strikes me when I ain’t looking for it. I had to give up second-story work because I got stuck sometimes halfway up. Tell you what, I don’t believe the bloomin’ doctors know what is good for it!

CITIZEN: Same here. I’ve spent a thousand dollars without getting any relief. Yours swell any?

BURGLAR: Mornings, and when it’s goin’ to rain, great Christopher!CITIZEN: Me, too. I can tell when a streak of humidity the size of

a tablecloth starts from Florida on its way to New York. And if I pass a theatre where there’s a tear-jerker matinee going on, the moisture starts my left arm jumping like a headache!

BURGLAR: I know what you mean. Say, ever try opodeldoc?

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MISS REBOSA: Would I marry Eddie Bayles at ve o’clock tonight for a thousand dollars? Of course I would!

ANDY: I will write out a check for one thousand dollars. When you and Eddie Bayles are married, I’ll hand it to you.

MISS REBOSA: Please don’t wake me up! You must be some rich uncle retired from the spice business in India! Eddie will buy out Mr. Crosby and run that store himself! Five o’clock, did you say?

ANDY: Five o’clock. It’s nearly time. You’d better hurry! (MISS REBOSA plants a quick kiss on his cheek and hurries OFF LEFT.) Whew! I did it! I saved my old friend Mack from his attack of Indian summer. And he’ll be grateful once he gets out of that stiff suit and those patent leather shoes. We’ll be back to our good old times in the cabin, just Mack and his rocking chair and history book, and me and my banjo, and the Chinese cook and the ham and eggs! To keep him disinvolved from relapses like that is worth more’n a thousand dollars any day. I’m sure glad I’ve made a study of women. I am not to be deceived by their means of conceit and evolution! I’ll just kill time for half an hour or so, and then mosey on back to see Mack. (EXITS LEFT with his suitcase very pleased with himself. LIGHTS FADE OUT brie y to indicate passage of time, then FADE UP. MACK, now comfortable in his old clothes, sits in the rocking chair with his feet propped up, reading a large history book. ANDY strolls IN casually LEFT.) Why, Mack, you don’t look like you’re getting ready for a wedding at six o’clock. It’s past ve thirty.

MACK: Oh, the wedding was moved up to ve o’clock. It’s all over now. I didn’t see you there, Andy.

ANDY: (Startled.) You mean, you heard about the wedding?MACK: Heard about it? I operated it!ANDY: You… you did what?MACK: I told you I was justice of the peace now. The preacher is off

East, visiting his folks, and I’m the only one in town that can perform the dispensations of marriage. I promised Eddie and Rebosa a month ago that I’d marry ’em. He’s a bright lad, and she’s a smart young woman. They’ll have a store of their own some day.

ANDY: (Sinks down on the steps.) Yes… they sure will.MACK: There was lots of women at the wedding, but I didn’t seem

to get any ideas from any of ’em. I wish I was informed in the structure of their attainments like you are, Andy.

ANDY: (Sighs.) That was two months ago, Mack. I’m not as informed as I thought I was! (LIGHTS OUT LEFT. ANDY and MACK EXIT. STRIKE porch and rocking chair. Four benches are BROUGHT ON LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

“Makes the Whole World Kin”SETTING: A room in CITIZEN’S house with an armchair, an ottoman, a straight chair and a table with the following items on it: a crumpled roll of bills, a watch, a set of keys, three poker chips and a pink silk hair bow.LIGHTS UP LEFT: CITIZEN sits in armchair, feet propped on the ottoman.STORYTELLER: (ENTERS LEFT and crosses RIGHT CENTER

during this monologue. To AUDIENCE.) I have come to the conclusion that there are three types of burglars. I have come to this conclusion because burglars have attempted to rob my uncle’s house quite frequently, and when the police come and take them away, I take note of their appearance. Their classi cation is simple. The collar is the distinguishing mark. When a burglar is caught who does not wear a collar, he is described as a degenerate of the lowest type, vicious and depraved. The other well-known type is the burglar who wears a collar. He is invariably a gentleman by day, while after dark he plies his nefarious occupation of burglary. The third type, the last one who entered my uncle’s house, wore a green sweater, and the police would have been baf ed had they attempted to classify him. He entered my uncle’s house through a window that had carelessly been left unlocked and began to prowl. (BURGLAR ENTERS LEFT and begins to prowl around the room.) As my uncle described it to me, after the fact, this burglar wore no mask and carried no dark lantern. He brought only a pistol, and he thoughtfully chewed peppermint gum.

BURGLAR: (Examines the articles on the table.) A crumpled roll of bills, hefty enough. (Stuffs the money into his pocket.) A watch! (Adds that to his pocket.) Keys? Naw. Three poker chips? Naw. (Puzzled.) A pink silk hair bow? (Drops it on the table.) A fair enough touch, I’d say. (Suddenly, CITIZEN utters a squeaky groan and opens his eyes. Upon seeing BURGLAR, he moves one hand toward his breast pocket.) Hold it! (Pulls out his pistol and aims it at CITIZEN.) Sit still! Hold up both your hands! (CITIZEN looks irritable and disgusted, raises his right hand above his head.) Up with the other one! You might have a gun somewhere about you. You might be amphibious and shoot with your left hand. (CITIZENdoesn’t move.) You can count to two, can’t you? Hurry up!

CITIZEN: I can’t raise the other one.BURGLAR: Why not?CITIZEN: Rheumatism… in the shoulder.BURGLAR: Rheumatism? Oh! In ammatory?

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CHRIS: Man, what a misunderstanding, eh? When Mack said he was going to marry her, he just meant conduct the ceremony. But Andy thought… ha, ha!

LANE: (Macho.) Yeah, I saw that coming. (LUPE and CHRIS exchange a glance.)

LUPE: The little twist didn’t fool you, eh? Well, try this one. (Leansover and ips the pages of the book.) This one takes place on a train, the B & M Express, to be exact, eastbound from Denver to Kansas City, where two young people meet and try to renew an old acquaintance.

LANE: “Hearts and Hands”?LUPE: That’s it… This one’s about a young woman who tries to…

well, just read it. You’ll see for yourself. (LIGHTS DIM RIGHT. SPOT UP on book.)

CHRIS: Just picture the train and four passengers coming on board. First, there’s the pretty young lady, Miss Fairchild… (LIGHTS COME UP LEFT. MISS FAIRCHILD ENTERS and takes her seat at LEFT.) …then a lady passenger who appears to be rather sharp-eyed and alert to everything going on around her… (PASSENGER ENTERS and sits directly behind MISS FAIRCHILD.) …then there are the two men passengers, a Mr. Easton and the Other Man, whose name we don’t know, who are handcuffed together. (EASTON and OTHER MAN ENTER. EASTON’S right hand is cuffed to OTHER MAN’S left hand. They take the seat opposite MISS FAIRCHILD. EASTON sits glumly, keeping his eyes lowered. OTHER MAN watches MISS FAIRCHILD from the corner of his eye. LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

“Hearts and Hands”SETTING: A railroad coach of the B & M Express represented by four benches with an aisle between, facing the audience.MISS FAIRCHILD: (Looks at EASTON with great interest for a

moment.) Well, Mr. Easton, if you will make me speak rst, I suppose I must. Don’t you recognize old friends when you see them in the West?

EASTON: (Looks up, startled.) Oh, I beg your pardon. It’s Miss Fairchild, of course. (Takes her hand with his left hand.) How nice to see you again. (Grins.) I’ll have to ask you to excuse the other hand. It’s otherwise engaged at present. (Holds up handcuffed hand for her to see.)

MISS FAIRCHILD: (Horri ed.) Oh, dear!EASTON: Don’t be afraid. It’s all right.

MISS BEAUMONT: A receipt?MISS FARRINGTON: (Drops her cultured accent.) Yeah. I gotta go

back to work in the morning, too.MISS BEAUMONT: I don’t understand.MISS FARRINGTON: I’m a bookkeeper in the of ce at O’Dowd and

Levinsky’s. (Laughs.) Funny, isn’t it, that we both had the same idea about spending our vacation here? I’ve always wanted to put up at a swell hotel, and I saved up out of my salary and did it! Say, how about we go to Coney Island next Saturday afternoon and take in the sights? Who knows, maybe we’ll nd a couple of fellows with nothing to do!

MISS BEAUMONT: (Smiles.) You bet! The store closes at noon on Saturday, and I don’t have any plans. I guess Coney will be all right, even if we did spend a wonderful week at the Hotel Lotus!

MISS FARRINGTON: By the way, Mamie, my real name is Jennie McManus.

MISS BEAUMONT: It’s nice to meet you, Jennie. Here’s to tomorrow… and Coney Island! (Lifts glass.)

MISS FARRINGTON: (Lifts glass.) Tomorrow and Coney Island! (They toast and drink. LIGHTS OUT LEFT. MISS BEAUMONT and MISS FARRINGTON EXIT. STRIKE table and chairs. Armchair, ottoman, a table with several items on it and a straight chair are BROUGHT ON LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

LANE: Hey, I saw that situation in a movie recently.LUPE: Like I said, his themes have universal appeal—don’t we all

wish we could be someone else for a while at one time or another in our lives?

CHRIS: O. Henry could really get inside people’s heads and bring their daydreams to life.

LUPE: Well, this next story is very down-to-earth about how you can’t always tell a book by its cover, and you can’t always depend on a certain type of character to be the way you think he ought to be.

CHRIS: Yeah, like this guy… (Pats LANE on the shoulder.) …thoughtO. Henry was just a candy bar! Now he’s gotta be convinced O. Henry’s pretty sensational. Am I right?

LANE: (Sarcastic.) Yeah, sensational. I have goose bumps.LUPE: All right, be nice, now. Listen to this. (LIGHTS DIM RIGHT.

SPOT UP on book.) This next one features a gentleman and a burglar and a couple cases of rheumatism. It’s called, “Makes the Whole World Kin.” Picture a living room, and listen to the voice of the storyteller. (LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

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MISS FAIRCHILD: But what does this mean, Mr. Easton?OTHER MAN: If you’ll excuse me for speaking up, miss, I see you’re

acquainted with the marshal here.MISS FAIRCHILD: Marshal?OTHER MAN: If you’ll ask him to say a good word for me when we get

to the penitentiary, I’m sure he’ll do it, and it’ll make things easier for me there.

MISS FAIRCHILD: Penitentiary?OTHER MAN: Yes, miss. The marshal is taking me to Leavenworth

Prison. It’s seven years for counterfeiting.MISS FAIRCHILD: (Relieved.) Oh! Counterfeiting. Well, I’m sure he’ll

say a good word for you, if you deserve it. (To EASTON.) So that’s what you’ve been doing out West, Mr. Easton. You’re a marshal!

EASTON: (Modest.) My dear Miss Fairchild, I had to do something. Money has a way of taking wings, and you know it takes money to keep step with our crowd in Washington. A marshal isn’t quite as high a position as that of ambassador, but—

MISS FAIRCHILD: (Quickly.) The ambassador doesn’t call on me any more, and I’m very glad he doesn’t. (Pause.) I should be very glad if you would call on me again when you are in Washington.

EASTON: (Surprised.) You would?MISS FAIRCHILD: Oh, yes. (Admiring.) So now you’re one of those

dashing Western heroes, and you ride and shoot and go into all kinds of dangers! That’s very different from the Washington life.

EASTON: Yes, it is.MISS FAIRCHILD: We’ve missed you there… the old crowd.

(Glances at the handcuffs.) Those handcuffs must be terribly uncomfortable.

OTHER MAN: Oh, don’t you worry about these, miss. All marshals handcuff themselves to their prisoners to keep them from getting away. Mr. Easton knows his business.

MISS FAIRCHILD: Will I see you again soon in Washington, Mr. Easton?

EASTON: I’m afraid not, Miss Fairchild. I… I have some commitments that will keep me here in the West for quite a while.

MISS FAIRCHILD: I love the West! Mama and I spent the summer in Denver. She went home a week ago because Father was slightly ill, but I stayed on for a while. I wouldn’t mind staying longer. I believe I could live and be happy out here. I think the western air agrees with me. (Pauses, looking at him appealingly.) Money isn’t everything, you know.

MISS FARRINGTON: I hear that Baden-Baden and Cannes are almost deserted this season. Year by year, the old resorts fall into disrepute. Perhaps many others, like ourselves, are seeking out the quiet nooks that are overlooked by the majority.

MISS BEAUMONT: I promise myself just one day more of this delicious rest. Tomorrow my ship sails.

MISS FARRINGTON: I shall miss you. I, too, must leave tomorrow.MISS BEAUMONT: One cannot hide here forever, charming though

it may be. My chateau has been in preparation for me longer than a month. Those house parties that one must give… what a nuisance! But I shall never forget my week here in your excellent company, Miss Farrington.

MISS FARRINGTON: Your companionship has made my week here unforgettable as well, Miss Beaumont. (They smile, make a silent toast and drink their wine.)

MISS BEAUMONT: (After a moment, sighs, opens her purse and takes out a dollar.) Miss Farrington, I have something to tell you.

MISS FARRINGTON: Yes?MISS BEAUMONT: I’ll be leaving here before breakfast in the

morning because… (Drops her cultured accent.) …because I have to go back to work.

MISS FARRINGTON: (Shocked.) Work?MISS BEAUMONT: Yeah, I’m behind the hosiery counter at Casey’s

store, and my vacation is up at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. This dollar is the last money I’ll see until I draw my salary next Saturday. You’ve been a kind friend, and I wanted to tell you before I left.

MISS FARRINGTON: Surely, you jest!MISS BEAUMONT: No. I’ve been saving up for a year just for this

vacation. I wanted to spend one week like a lady. I wanted to sleep late and be waited on and ring bells for things just like rich folks do. Now I’ve done it, and I’ve had the happiest time of my life! Tomorrow I’ll go back to work, satis ed for another year.

MISS FARRINGTON: I don’t know what to say!MISS BEAUMONT: And my name isn’t Heloise Beaumont. It’s Mamie

Siviter. And this dress—it’s the only one I have that’s t to wear—I bought it at O’Dowd and Levinsky’s on the installment plan. This dollar will pay the installment due tomorrow.

MISS FARRINGTON: You are very brave to tell me this. (Looks at her a moment, then takes the dollar. MISS BEAUMONT looks at her in surprise.) It’s all right. I’ll give you a receipt.

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EASTON: (Regretful.) I’m sorry. I wish things could be different, Miss Fairchild.

OTHER MAN: (Coughs loudly.) Say, Marshal, I haven’t had anything to eat all day. How ‘bout taking me to the dining car for some supper? We’re still a long way from Leavenworth.

EASTON: (Glances at OTHER MAN and nods, then turns to MISS FAIRCHILD.) Duty calls. I can’t deny a petition for food. It’s the only friend of the unfortunate, and I’m a bit hungry myself. (Rises,with OTHER MAN.) Good-bye, Miss Fairchild. (Takes her hand with his left hand.)

MISS FAIRCHILD: (Holds his hand, reluctant to let go.) It’s really too bad you’re not going back to Washington. Must you go to Leavenworth?

EASTON: Yes… I’m afraid I must. (Smiles, sad.) Good-bye.MISS FAIRCHILD: (Releases his hand.) Good-bye. (OTHER MAN

tips his hat and goes OFF RIGHT with EASTON, who looks back at MISS FAIRCHILD. She looks after him for a moment and then settles sadly into her seat with a deep sigh.)

PASSENGER: (Looks after the TWO MEN, then leans forward to speak to MISS FAIRCHILD.) That marshal’s a good sort of a chap. Some of these Western fellows are all right!

MISS FAIRCHILD: Yes, and Mr. Easton’s pretty young to hold an of ce like that, don’t you think?

PASSENGER: Easton? Why, my dear, didn’t you catch on to that little scene?

MISS FAIRCHILD: Scene?PASSENGER: Surely, you noticed what was going on.MISS FAIRCHILD: What do you mean?PASSENGER: I feel sorry for you, dear, but surely you know as

well as I that an of cer of the law never handcuffs a prisoner to his right hand. (MISS FAIRCHILD looks startled as she realizes what has happened. LIGHTS OUT LEFT. MISS FAIRCHILD and PASSENGER EXIT. STRIKE benches. A small table and a bunch of wild owers are BROUGHT ON CENTER, and a counter and chair LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

CHRIS: I feel a little sorry for Miss Fairchild, but she should have latched onto Mr. Easton before he got in trouble. Sounds like she might have saved him.

LUPE: O. Henry does like to throw in those twists, doesn’t he?LANE: (Annoyed.) Twists? That was more like a pretzel.LUPE: Aha! I see he got you that time!

LUPE: Right. Or even yourself.CHRIS: Absolutely. (Glances over at LANE.) Hey, you might want to

lighten things up a bit after that one. Our friend, here, looks like he could use some cheering up!

LANE: (Sits up.) I don’t know what you’re talking about.LUPE: (Grins and continues.) Okay, we’ll read a happier one, about

getting away from all the cares of life. (LIGHTS DIM RIGHT. SPOT UP on book.) So this one takes place in the dining room of a luxury hotel on Broadway called the Lotus. It’s quiet and elegant, the perfect setting for two “Transients in Arcadia” who discover—

CHRIS: Oh, don’t ruin it!LUPE: Okay, let’s just say they discover something totally unexpected.

(LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

“Transients in Arcadia”SETTING: The dining room of the elegant Hotel Lotus in New York City.LIGHTS UP LEFT: MISS BEAUMONT and MISS FARRINGTON, elegantly dressed, sit at the table with wine glasses.MISS BEAUMONT: (In a smooth, cultured voice.) This dear Hotel

Lotus is an oasis in the July desert of Manhattan, Miss Farrington. The temperature here is perpetually April, and the distant roar of Broadway is similar to a distant waterfall, pleasant and restful.

MISS FARRINGTON: (Also in a smooth, cultured voice.) I quite agree, Miss Beaumont. And you are a guest that the Hotel Lotus adores. The bellboys ght for the honor of answering your ring, you possess the ne air of the elite, and your gown is exquisite.

MISS BEAUMONT: You are too kind. I can only say in return that you have drifted into the exclusive and calm current of life here at the Lotus so silently, that not a ripple has alarmed any of us. There is not the slightest doubt that you belong here.

MISS FARRINGTON: I feel quite at home here.MISS BEAUMONT: One tires of the old resorts. What is the use to y

to the mountains or the seashore to escape noise and dust, when the very people who make both follow us there?

MISS FARRINGTON: Even on the ocean, the common folk are everywhere around you. The most exclusive steamers are getting to be scarcely more than ferryboats! Heaven help us, when the summer resorter discovers the dear Hotel Lotus!

MISS BEAUMONT: Our secret has been safe for the past week anyhow. I know of but one other place so delightful and exclusive in summer, and that is the castle of Count Polinski in the Ural Mountains.

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LANE: No, he didn’t! I was all over it. I saw it coming a mile away.CHRIS: Okay, Lupe, it looks like we’re going to have to pull out our

big guns to fool Lane, here. Hey, what’s that one story—it’s my favorite—where a cowboy and a sheep rancher vie for the hand of a young lady… something about pancakes?

LUPE: That would be “Pimienta Pancakes.” (Turns page in book, which LANE is still holding. Gestures for LANE to start reading. LANE pauses, rolls his eyes and reluctantly begins reading as LIGHTS DIM RIGHT and SPOT COMES UP on book.) It takes place in a cattle camp, and a sidelined cowboy tells the tale. (LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

“Pimienta Pancakes”SETTING: A cattle roundup camp with a small table and a bunch of wild owers, and AUNT EMILY’S store, with a counter and chair.LIGHTS UP LEFT: JUD is “pounding meat” with a pistol in a tin pan on the table. COWBOY sits on the ground in front of him.COWBOY: (As storyteller, to AUDIENCE.) While we were rounding up

a bunch of cattle in the Frio bottoms one morning, a dead mesquite branch caught my stirrup and gave my ankle a wrench that laid me up in camp for a week. On the third day of my compulsory idleness, I crawled out near the grub wagon to have some conversation with Jud Odom, the camp cook. Betimes, I was stirred by longings for something to eat that did not come under the caption of “grub.” I said, “Jud, can you make pancakes?” He laid down his six-shooter, with which he was pounding an antelope steak, and stood over me in what I felt to be a menacing attitude. (JUD does so.)

JUD: Did you mean that straight, or was you trying to get my goat? Some of the boys been telling you about me and that pancake racket?

COWBOY: (Sincere, to JUD.) No, Jud. I meant it. I’d swap my pony and saddle for a stack of buttered brown pancakes with some rst-crop, open-kettle New Orleans sweetening. Was there a story about pancakes?

JUD: (Calmer.) No, not a story, just the logical disclosures in the case of me and a pink-eyed snoozer from Mired Mule Ranch and Miss Willella Learight. I was punching cows for old Bill Toomey then. One day I gets aspirations to eat some grub that hasn’t mooed or grunted, so I got on my bronc and pushed the wind for Aunt Emily Telfair’s store at the Pi-mi-enta Crossing. (AUNTEMILY ENTERS and takes her place behind the store counter at LEFT, with an open fruit can and a big spoon.) About three in the

takes SUE to CENTER.) Your neighbor, Mr. Behrman, has come down with pneumonia and the attack is acute. I’m afraid there is no hope for him. He goes to the hospital today to be made more comfortable.

SUE: Oh, I’m so sorry! He was such a good friend… and protector… and he loved Johnsy so! Poor Mr. Behrman!

DOCTOR: Take good care of your friend. Tell her when she is stronger.

SUE: I will. Thank you, Doctor. (LIGHTS FADE OUT. DOCTOR EXITS LEFT. SUE crosses to JOHNSY. LIGHTS FADE UP.)

SUE: Are you still looking out that window, Johnsy dear?JOHNSY: It’s a miracle, Sue. It’s been two days now, and that one

last leaf still clings to the old vine… just as I now cling to life.SUE: That leaf is precious to both of us, dear. Now, I have something

to tell you. Our friend, Mr. Behrman… died of pneumonia today in the hospital.

JOHNSY: Oh, no! Poor old man! I’m so sorry!SUE: The janitor found him lying on the oor and called for help. His

shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn’t imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes and a palette with green and yellow colors mixed on it. See, dear… that last ivy leaf on the wall? Didn’t you wonder why it never uttered or moved when the wind blew?

JOHNSY: Well… yes… I did… but I thought…SUE: It will always be there. It’s Mr. Behrman’s masterpiece, Johnsy.

He painted it there the night the last leaf fell. He painted it for you. (LIGHTS OUT. SUE and JOHNSY EXIT. STRIKE bed, table, chair, stool and easel. A dining table and two chairs are BROUGHT ON LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT. LANE continues to lie on his side in silent contemplation, visibly moved, but making sure his friends don’t see.)

LUPE: There is a nice sprinkling of sentimental stories in O. Henry’s repertoire, besides the more lighthearted ones. More often he just writes these pleasant stories with a nice little surprise at the end. In all his stories, though, he creates these very believable characters, people you can really identify with.

CHRIS: Sometimes you feel like you know his characters, like they could be your neighbors or your family, just ordinary folks you know.

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afternoon, I walked into the store. (Crosses to store.) In a minute, I had a long-handled spoon and an open can of juicy peaches in front of me. I was feeling like Adam before the apple stampede, when I happened to look out the window into the yard. (WILLELLA ENTERS RIGHT, looks curiously into the store area.) There was a girl standing there… an imported girl with xings on… amusing herself by watching my style of encouraging the fruit canning industry. (To EMILY.) Aunt Emily, who is that?

AUNT EMILY: Why, that’s my niece, Miss Willella Learight, down from Palestine on a visit. (Pause.) Why don’t you make yourself acquainted?

JUD: (To COWBOY.) I never was shy about women. I never could understand why some men who can break a mustang before breakfast and shave in the dark, get all left-handed and full of perspiration and excuses when they see a bolt of calico draped around what belongs in it. (Turns to WILLELLA and mimes pleasant conversation.)

AUNT EMILY: (To herself.) Well, would you look at that! Next thing I know, Jud’ll be riding over here to see her once a week!

JUD: (To COWBOY.) I did just that. And then I gured that if I doubled the number of trips, I would see her twice as often. One week I slipped in a third trip, and that’s where the pancakes and the pink-eyed snoozer busted into the game. (WILLELLA EXITS RIGHT. JUD crosses back to store.) Aunt Emily, where is Miss Willella today? I don’t see her around.

AUNT EMILY: Why, she’s gone riding with Jackson Bird, the sheep man from over at Mired Mule Ranch.

JUD: (Chokes.) She’s gone riding? (Splutters.) With Birdstone Jack, the hired mule from Sheep Man’s Ranch? Did you say a sheep man? A snoozer?

AUNT EMILY: (Calm.) You must have heard tell of Jackson Bird. He’s got eight sections of grazing and four thousand head of the nest Merinos south of the Arctic Circle.

JUD: Now, Aunt Emily, you know I never believed in harming sheep men. They never irritated me like they do most cowmen. I have always let ’em pass, just as you would a jackrabbit, with a polite word and a guess about the weather. And because I’ve been lenient and let ’em live, here’s one gone riding with Miss Willella!

AUNT EMILY: (Looks OFF RIGHT.) They’re back. Here they come now. (JACKSON and WILLELLA ENTER RIGHT, arm in arm, smiling. Then WILLELLA sails past JUD with hardly a glance and EXITS LEFT into the store, followed by AUNT EMILY.)

as Miss Johnsy to lie sick in! Some day I will paint my masterpiece, and we shall all go away from here!

SUE: (As they cross to CENTER.) Where would we go? To Naples, perhaps? It’s warm and sunny there, and Johnsy has always told me that she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day.

BEHRMAN: Then she must de nitely get well so she can do just that!

SUE: She’s asleep. Come, look out the window. See the ivy vine on the wall over there? (They both look out over the AUDIENCE.)

BEHRMAN: It is raining. Such a cold rain, too… mixed with a little snow, I think.

SUE: Oh, Mr. Behrman! Look! There is only… only one leaf on the vine!

BEHRMAN: You must not let her look out the window! We will pull down the shade. (Mimes this action.) And leave it down! Now, let me pose for you… only for a little while. Then… I must begin my masterpiece. Yes! My masterpiece… for Miss Johnsy! (LIGHTSFADE OUT. BEHRMAN EXITS. SUE sits by bed. LIGHTS FADE UP.)

JOHNSY: (Stirs in bed.) Sue… Sue… is it morning? It’s so dark.SUE: Yes, dear, it’s morning. You slept most of the night. That’s a

good sign.JOHNSY: Pull up the shade. I want to look out the window.SUE: It’s only a cold, wet, windy day. Why not keep it shut out?JOHNSY: No. I want to see out. Pull up the shade.SUE: Johnsy, dear…JOHNSY: Please! (Wearily, SUE mimes raising the window shade,

then gasps at what she sees.) The last leaf is still there! I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. Brave little leaf! Clinging there so stubbornly.

SUE: As stubborn as you, Johnsy! You have always been stubborn!JOHNSY: Yes, I know… but something has made that last leaf stay

there to… to show me how wicked I’ve been. It… it’s a sin to want to die, isn’t it? (Pause.) I’m feeling just a little hungry, Sue. Would you bring me a little broth?

SUE: (Delighted.) Of course, dear. I have some already heated. (LIGHTS FADE OUT. DOCTOR ENTERS LEFT. LIGHTS FADE UP.)

DOCTOR: (Smiles at JOHNSY.) Even chances today. You’re out of danger, Miss Johnsy. With good nursing, you’ll recover! (Pause,

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JUD: (To COWBOY.) I couldn’t believe it! Jackson Bird, a sheep man? He looked more like a lamb man to me! (Crosses to JACKSON, ready for a ght.) Mr. Bird! You have come into the company of one who is commonly called Dead-Moral-Certainty Judson on account of the way I shoot. (Twirls his gun.) When I want a stranger to know me, I always introduce myself before the draw, for I never did like to shake hands with a ghost.

JACKSON: I’m glad to know you, Mr. Judson. (Offers his hand, but JUD ignores it.)

JUD: This is a bad habit you have of riding with young ladies here at Pi-mi-enta. I’ve known birds to be served on toast for less than that! Now, are you going to quit, or do you wish to gallop up against this Dead-Moral-Certainty attachment to my name, which is good for at least one set of funeral eulogies?

JACKSON: (Bristles a moment, then laughs.) Now, Mr. Judson, you’ve got the wrong idea. I’ve called on Miss Learight a few times, but not for the purpose you imagine. My object is purely a gastronomical one.

JUD: (Draws his gun, suspicious.) What? Gastro… what?JACKSON: I do my own cooking. Eating is the only pleasure I get

out of sheep raising. Did you ever taste the pancakes that Miss Learight makes?

JUD: (Startled.) Pancakes? No. I never was advised that she was up to any culinary maneuvers.

JACKSON: Her pancakes are golden sunshine! I’d give two years of my life to get the recipe for making them. That’s what I come to see Miss Learight for, but I haven’t been able to get it from her. If I could just get that recipe, I’d be a very happy man.

JUD: Are you sure it ain’t the hand that mixes the pancakes that you’re after?

JACKSON: Sure, Miss Learight is a mighty nice girl, but I can assure you my intentions are simply to procure a copy of her pancake recipe.

JUD: (Puts gun away.) Well, I was thinking of making orphans of your sheep, but I’ll let you y away this time. You stick to pancakes and don’t mistake sentiments for syrup, or there’ll be singing at your ranch and you won’t hear it!

JACKSON: To convince you that I’m sincere, if you will get that pancake recipe for me, I give you my word I’ll never call on Miss Learight again.

JUD: (Thinks a moment.) That’s fair. I’ll get it for you if I can. (Shakeshands.)

JOHNSY: You needn’t get any more wine. There goes another one. No, I don’t want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I’ll go, too.

SUE: (Stern.) Johnsy, dear, I want you to promise me to keep your eyes closed and not look out the window until I am done working. I must hand in those drawings tomorrow, and I need the light. Otherwise, I would pull the shade down.

JOHNSY: All right. Tell me as soon as you have nished, because I want to see the last leaf fall. I’m tired of waiting… tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything and go sailing down… down… down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.

SUE: Now, stop that talk and try to sleep, dear. I must call Mr. Behrman to come and be my model for the old man in my drawing. I’ll only be a minute. (Crosses LEFT to where MR. BEHRMAN sits on a stool in front of a blank canvas on an easel.) Is there nothing on your canvas today, Mr. Behrman? I was hoping—

BEHRMAN: (Gruff, but not unkind.) Nothing! You see nothing… and you know why, my dear young lady? I am a failure in art! Forty years now I have been a failure! Always, I am about to paint my masterpiece and always I fail to even begin. So, why are you so surprised to see this blank canvas?

SUE: I believe in you, Mr. Behrman. You will paint your masterpiece some day. I know it! But now I need you to come model for me and help me cheer up Johnsy. She’s so very ill, you know.

BEHRMAN: Yes… yes, I am so sorry!SUE: She’s counting the leaves on that old ivy vine outside her

window, and she says that when the last leaf falls, she will go, too.

BEHRMAN: What is this you are telling me? Are there people in this world so foolish as to die because leaves drop off a confounded vine? I never heard of such a thing! Why do you allow that silly business to dwell in her mind? Poor little Johnsy!

SUE: She’s very ill and weak, and the fever has left her mind full of strange fancies. I can do nothing to change her mind. Please, come pose for me now.

BEHRMAN: Pose? I don’t want to pose. This is terrible news you bring me.

SUE: (Laughs.) Oh, don’t be an old ibbertigibbet! You know how she loves to see you, and I need you! You must come.

BEHRMAN: What is this you are calling me? An old ibbertigibbet! Oh, go on, I’ll come with you. This is not any place for one so good

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JACKSON: (Tips his hat.) Good luck! (EXITS RIGHT with a smirk on his face.)

JUD: (To COWBOY.) Well, it was ve days before I got another chance to ride over to Pi-mi-enta. (WILLELLA and AUNT EMILY ENTER and take places at the store.) Miss Willella and me passed a gratifying evening at Aunt Emily’s, and we was getting along ne in one another’s estimations. Thinks I, if Jackson Bird can be persuaded to migrate, I win. So, I set my sights on getting that pancake recipe. (Crosses to WILLELLA.) Miss Willella, if there’s anything I like better than the sight of a red steer on green grass, it’s the taste of a nice hot pancake smothered in sugar-house molasses! (AUNT EMILY and WILLELLA exchange startled looks.)

WILLELLA: (Carefully.) Well, yes… that sounds real nice, Mr. Odom.

JUD: Come now, tell me how you make ’em. Pancakes is just whirling in my head like wagon wheels. Pound of our? Eight dozen eggs? How does the catalog of constituents run? (AUNT EMILY pulls a gun from her apron pocket and aims it indirectly at JUD, who backs away, startled.) Great post-holes! Aunt Emily with a gun? Here’s a family that thinks a heap of recipes, protecting ’em with rearms! (Edges back to the COWBOY.) I gave up on the project for that night. I didn’t calculate to tangle with Aunt Emily and her rearms. (AUNT EMILY and WILLELLA EXIT LEFT.) About a week later I met Jackson Bird coming out of Pi-mi-enta as I was coming in. (Crosses LEFT as JACKSON ENTERS from the store.)Got the particulars for them apjacks yet?

JACKSON: No. I haven’t had any success in getting hold of that recipe. Have you?

JUD: I tried, but t’was like trying to dig a prairie dog out of his hole with a peanut hull. That pancake recipe must be a jookalorum, the way they hold on to it.

JACKSON: (Looks very discouraged.) I sure would like to know how to make them pancakes. Out there on my lonely ranch, I lie awake nights, just thinking about how good they would taste! If I only had that recipe!

JUD: Well, one of us is bound to get a rope over its horns before long. So long, Jacksy! (JACKSON EXITS RIGHT, with another smirk on his face. To COWBOY.) When I saw that he wasn’t after Miss Willella, I had more endurable contemplations of that snoozer. I kept trying to get that recipe from Miss Willella. (WILLELLA ENTERS LEFT.) But every time I mentioned pancakes, she would

easel with blank canvas. An open space between them represents a hallway.LIGHTS UP LEFT: JOHNSY lies in bed near a “window,” facing the AUDIENCE. SUE is talking with DOCTOR at CENTER.DOCTOR: Your friend has one chance in ten to survive. This

pneumonia is not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. Your friend has had her blood thinned by the California climate she comes from, and this New York pneumonia is a red- sted, short-of-breath old duffer!

SUE: Poor Johnsy! Isn’t there something we can do for her?DOCTOR: Her one chance is to want to live. She seems to have

made up her mind that she’s not going to get well. I’ll do all that science can accomplish through my efforts. But if you can get her to talk about the new winter styles, or what she wants for supper, I promise a one-in- ve chance for her, instead of one-in-ten.

SUE: I’ll do my best, Doctor. Thank you. (DOCTOR EXITS LEFT. SUE cries a little into her handkerchief, then pulls herself together and crosses to JOHNSY.) Are you feeling a little better today, Johnsy dear?

JOHNSY: (Looks out the “window” into the AUDIENCE.) Twelve… eleven… ten… nine…

SUE: (Looks out.) What are you counting? I don’t see anything but that old ivy vine, all gnarled and decayed on the brick wall across the yard.

JOHNSY: Eight… seven… six… they’re falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. Now it’s easy. There goes another one. Only ve left now.

SUE: Five what, dear?JOHNSY: Leaves… on that old ivy vine. When the last leaf falls, I

must go, too. I’ve known that for three days now. Didn’t the doctor tell you?

SUE: Why, I never heard such nonsense! What have old ivy vines to do with your getting well or not? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don’t be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were—let’s see exactly what he said—he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that’s almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride the streetcars. Try to take some broth now, and let me go back to my drawing, so I can sell it to the editor man and buy you some port wine.

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get sort of remote and dgety about the eyes and try to change the subject. If I held her to it, she would slide out and round up Aunt Emily with her apron pocket howitzer. (WILLELLA EXITS LEFT and AUNT EMILY sails IN with her gun poised and ready.) One day I galloped over to the store with a ne bunch of wild owers for Miss Willella. (Takes owers from camp area and crosses to store where AUNT EMILY stands, reading a letter.) When Aunt Emily saw ’em, she looked at me kinda funny.

AUNT EMILY: Why, Jud, haven’t you heard the news? Willella and Jackson Bird was married up in Palestine yesterday. I just got a letter this morning.

JUD: (To COWBOY.) I dropped them owers and let that news trickle into my ears and down toward my upper left-hand shirt pocket until it got to my feet. (To EMILY.) Would you mind saying that again, Aunt Emily? Maybe my hearing is off, and you only said that prime heifers was 4.80 on the hoof, or something like that?

AUNT EMILY: No. (Reads letter.) Married yesterday and gone to Wa-co and Ni-a-gara Falls on a wedding trip. (Looks at JUD’S stricken face.) Surely you saw the signs all along, Jud. Jackson Bird has been courting Willella ever since that day he took her riding.

JUD: (Explodes.) Then what was all this zizzaparoola about pancakes?! (AUNT EMILY pulls out her gun.) Somebody’s been dealing me pancakes from the bottom of the deck! Talk up, or we’ll mix a pan full of batter right here! Does Miss Willella make pancakes or not?

AUNT EMILY: (Approaches him steadily, gun poised.) She never made a pancake in her life as far as I know. Now, calm down, Jud! You’re all excited and that wound in your head is contaminating your sense of intelligence. Try not to think about pancakes.

JUD: (Exasperated.) I’m not wounded in the head! Jackson Bird told me he was calling on Miss Willella for the purpose of nding out her system of producing pancakes, and he asked me to help him get the ingredients. I done so, with the results you see. (As AUNT EMILY tries to sti e a laugh.) Aunt Emily, tell me straight. Have I been sodded down with Johnson grass by a pink-eyed snoozer?

AUNT EMILY: (With a slow smile, as she puts the gun back in her pocket.) Yes, Jud, it looks like Jackson Bird has humbugged you good! The day after he went riding with Willella, he came over and told us to watch out for you whenever you got to talking about pancakes. He said you was in a camp once where they was cooking apjacks and one of the fellows got mad and slammed you over the head with a fryin’ pan! After that, Jackson said

boy with wings and no clothes on, ying about and shooting arrows with a bow, did you?

TIM: (Puzzled.) A little chubby boy… ying about…?ROSIE: With no clothes on? Shooting arrows? Gracious! Maybe the

cops pinched him!TIM: No, ma’am. We didn’t see nothing like that.ANTONIA: (Chuckles.) I didn’t think so. I was pretty sure that little

rascal wouldn’t be on hand! (LIGHTS OUT LEFT. TIM, ROSIE and ANTONIA EXIT. STRIKE table, chairs and bench. Bed, table and chair are BROUGHT ON CENTER, and a stool and easel with blank canvas LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

CHRIS: That one proves the Beatles wrong… money really can buy love! O. Henry never fails to put things in a new light with his surprise endings.

LUPE: Yup, always makes you think twice. (Glances over at LANE.) Have we lulled our friend to sleep yet? (LANE quickly closes his eyes and pretends to nap.)

CHRIS: Well, if he’s asleep, you can read to me. I’m enjoying it.LUPE: Okay, let’s see if you can guess which one this is. (Quizzes

CHRIS.) It takes place in a little district west of Washington Square in New York City, a quaint old place called…?

CHRIS: Greenwich Village?LUPE: Bingo. (Still quizzing.) So this is one of his more popular

stories…? (Looks expectantly at CHRIS.)CHRIS: Oh, the one about the artists, “The Last Leaf”?LUPE: Yes, you get the prize.LANE: (Perks up a bit.) Prize? You never said there would be prizes.LUPE: Sure, the prize is… I read you the story! (LANE groans and

ops back on his chair.)CHRIS: This is a good one… not funny like the others, though.LUPE: Yeah, O. Henry had a more serious side also. (LIGHTS DIM

RIGHT. SPOT UP on book.) So, to refresh your memory, two young artists, Johnsy and Sue, and an elderly artist, Mr. Behrman, have their little studios in an old three-story brick house. Today we might call them “starving artists.” (LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

“The Last Leaf”SETTING: A Greenwich Village boardinghouse with two studios, one CENTER with a bed, table and chair, the other LEFT with a stool and

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whenever you got excited, that wound hurt you and made you kind of crazy, and you’d go ravin’ about pancakes! He told us you might become dangerous and to take precautions. Which I did! (Pullsout gun, then pockets it and laughs.) Well, well. That Jackson Bird is sure a seldom kind of a snoozer! (EXITS, chuckling. JUD returns to camp area CENTER.)

COWBOY: How long ago did this happen?JUD: Three years. They’re living on the Mired Mule Ranch now, but I

haven’t seen either of ’em since. I heard Jackson Bird was xing his ranch up with rocking chairs and window curtains all the time he was putting me up the pancake tree. Oh, I got over it after a while, but the boys had a few laughs at my expense.

COWBOY: What about that pancake recipe?JUD: Didn’t I tell you there wasn’t no recipe? The boys around here

hollered for pancakes so much, I nally cut a recipe out of a newspaper to make ’em. As for me, I don’t never eat ’em! I got no appetite for Pi-mi-enta pancakes… or any other kind! (Begins to pound the meat furiously, and the COWBOY returns to his nap. LIGHTS OUT LEFT. JUD and COWBOY EXIT. STRIKE counter, chair and table. A tall desk, stool and bench are BROUGHT ON LEFT, a rocking chair CENTER. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

LUPE: Jookalorum!CHRIS: Poor Jud! Guess he couldn’t work up an appetite for pancakes

after all that.LANE: Candy bars, pancakes… (Digs in his pocket, comes up

empty.) Makes a man hungry! Anyone got ve bucks to lend me for some snacks?

LUPE: No, but ve bucks reminds me of this great one. (Leans over LANE and ips to another page.) You’ve gotta read this.

CHRIS: “The Whirligig of Life”?LUPE: That’s the one. This is from a collection called “Whirligigs.”

You’re going east now to the Cumberland Mountains of Tennessee, speci cally to the of ce of Justice of the Peace Benaja Widdup in a little settlement in Piedmont County, Tennessee.

LANE: (Sighs heavily and settles into his lawn chair.) All I wanted was some chips or a slice of pizza or something…

CHRIS: Just go ahead and read it, these whirligigs are delicious!LANE: A burrito…CHRIS: Read! Read! (LIGHTS DIM RIGHT. SPOT UP brie y on book

as LANE sighs again and begins to read. LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

power of money again! A little emblem of true love—our mother’s dear little ring that symbolized unending and unmercenary affection—was the cause of Richard nding his true happiness.

ANTONIA: (Absorbed in her ledger.) What’s this about a ring?ELLEN: Richard has just told me all about it! On the way to the theatre

last night, he dropped the ring in the street. When he stepped out of the cab to recover it, a blockade surrounded them, and it was two hours before the cab could get out of it. Two hours! Richard spoke to Miss Lantry of his love and won her heart forever!

ANTONIA: Well, I’m very glad that Richard has the girl he wanted. I told him I wouldn’t spare any expense to—

ELLEN: Oh, hush, dear Antonia! What good could your money possibly have done! Money is dross compared with true love. (EXITS LEFT in a happy utter.)

ROSIE: (Looks after ELLEN to be sure she is gone, then beckons to someone OFF LEFT. TIM ENTERS LEFT, looking very cheerful, hat in hand.) Miss Ellen’s gone upstairs, ma’am, and here’s my darlin’ brother, Tim!

TIM: (Nods to ANTONIA.) Good evening, ma’am.ANTONIA: (Smiles.) Good evening, Tim. Well, Rosie, it’s time to settle

up with you and Tim. Let’s see, I gave you $5000 in cash to start. (Reaches for checkbook and begins writing out two checks.)

ROSIE: Yes, ma’am, and I passed it right along to Tim.TIM: I paid out $300 more of my own. I had to go a little above the

estimate. I got the express wagons and cabs mostly for ve dollars, but the trucks and two-horse teams mostly raised me to ten. The motormen wanted ten dollars, and some of the loaded teams 20. The cops struck me the hardest—50 dollars I paid two, and the rest 20 and 25. But didn’t it work beautiful, Mrs. Rockwall?

ROSIE: Tim and I watched it all from a sixth-story window! There was no time for a rehearsal, but the drivers was all on time to the fraction of a second!

TIM: I never saw nothing like it before in me life, ma’am!ANTONIA: There you are—500 each, plus the 300 you were out.

(Hands checks to ROSIE and TIM.) Now, you two don’t despise money, do you?

ROSIE: Oh, no, ma’am! Tim and me can lick the man who invented poverty!

TIM: That we can, ma’am! Thank you, ma’am!ANTONIA: I wish I could have been there to see it. By the way, you

didn’t happen to notice anywhere in the blockade a little chubby

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“The Whirligig of Life”SETTING: The of ce of Justice of the Peace Benaja Widdup, represented by a tall desk and stool and a bench.LIGHTS UP LEFT: BENAJA sits at the desk, looking over a large book. STORYTELLER sits in rocking chair.STORYTELLER: (To AUDIENCE.) Let me tell you what happened a

short time ago on a warm day in early summer. The Cumberland Mountains rose up blue-gray in the late afternoon haze, and all was quiet in our little settlement here in Piedmont County, until Ransie Bilbro and his young wife, Ariela, suddenly burst into the of ce of Justice of the Peace Benaja Widdup. (ARIELA and RANSIE ENTER LEFT in a huff, shoving each other and jockeying for the best position in front of BENAJA, who hastily puts on his hat. ARIELA is barefoot.)

ARIELA: We’all wants a dee-vorce!RANSIE: That’s right! A dee-vorce! We all can’t git along together

no-how! It’s lonesome enough to live in the mountains when a man and a woman cares for one another. But when she’s always a-spittin’ like a wildcat or a-moanin’ like a hoot owl in the cabin, a man ain’t got no call to live with her!

ARIELA: (Calm.) When he’s a no-count varmint always keepin’ company with scalawags and moon shiners and a-sprawlin’ on his back a-guzzlin’ corn whiskey and a-pesterin’ folks with a pack of mangy hounds, a woman ain’t got no call to live with him!

RANSIE: When she keeps throwin’ skillet lids and slingin’ boilin’ water on the best coon-dog in the Cumberlands and keeps a man awake nights accusin’ him of all sorts of misdeeds!

ARIELA: When he’s always a- ghtin’ the revenooers and gets a bad name in the mountains for bein’ a mean man, who’s goin’ to be able to sleep nights?

BENAJA: Set down! (They sit on the bench at LEFT as he ips through his big book.) Accordin’ to equity… and the Constitution… and the Golden Rule, if a justice of the peace can marry a couple, it’s plain that he can dee-vorce ’em. This here of ce will issue a decree of dee-vorce… providin’ you can pay for it.

RANSIE: (Takes a ve-dollar bill from his pocket.) I sold a bearskin and two foxes for that. It’s all the money we got.

BENAJA: The regular price of a dee-vorce in this court is… ve dollars! (Snatches the money and stuffs it into his pocket. Writes.)

STORYTELLER: (To AUDIENCE.) Benaja Widdup stuffed that ve-dollar bill into his pocket with a most deceptive air of indifference

evening… and it was one of the most remarkable things I ever saw! (RICHARD and MISS LANTRY ENTER LEFT and sit on a high bench, representing the inside of the cab.) Young Mr. Richard called for Miss Lantry in the cab at 8:30 and headed for Wallack’s Theatre. They whirled up 42nd Street to Broadway, but at 34th

Street, Richard suddenly ordered the cabman to stop.RICHARD: (Calls to imaginary cabman.) Stop! I’ve dropped a ring. It

was my grandmother’s, and I’d hate to lose it. I saw where it fell… it’ll only take a minute. (Acts out the story as ROSIE tells it.)

ROSIE: Richard stepped out of the cab, found the ring and was back inside in a minute. But during that minute, you won’t believe what happened! A cross-town streetcar stopped directly in front of the cab. The cabman tried to pass on the left, but a big express wagon cut him off! He tried the right side and had to back away from a furniture van! The cab was blockaded in a tangled mess of vehicles and horses, as is known from time to time to tie things up quite suddenly in the big city.

MISS LANTRY: (Impatient.) Tell the cabman to drive on, Richard. We’ll be late.

ROSIE: But the space where Broadway, 6th Avenue, and 34th Street cross was lled as tight as a 26-inch maiden lls her 22-inch girdle! All the traf c in Manhattan seemed to have jammed itself around that cab! And still from all the cross streets, they were hurrying and rattling towards the intersection at full speed, locking wheels and adding their drivers’ curses to the clamor. The oldest New Yorker among the thousands of spectators that lined the sidewalks had not witnessed a street blockade of the proportions of this one.

RICHARD: (Has been looking out in amazement, sits down.) I’m very sorry, but it looks as if we’re stuck. They won’t get this jumble loosened up for an hour. It was my fault. If I hadn’t dropped this ring…

MISS LANTRY: (Smiles.) Well, now that it can’t be helped, I really don’t care if we go to the theatre or not. May I see the ring?

RICHARD: (Hands it to her.) It was my grandmother’s. I’ve been told that… that it brings good luck… in love.

MISS LANTRY: It’s beautiful, Richard.RICHARD: Would you like to try it on? (Slips the ring on her nger.

LIGHTS FADE OUT. RICHARD and MISS LANTRY EXIT LEFT; ANTONIA takes her seat at the table CENTER. LIGHTS FADE UP.)

ELLEN: (ENTERS LEFT, excited.) Antonia! Isn’t it wonderful? Our Richard and Miss Lantry are engaged! Don’t ever boast of the

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and wrote out the dee-vorce decree upon a sheet of paper. When he had nished, he read it aloud to Ransie Bilbro and his wife Ariela.

BENAJA: Stand up! (RANSIE and ARIELA stand; BENAJA reads from the divorce paper.) “Know all men that Ransie Bilbro and his wife, Ariela Bilbro, this day personally appeared before me and promises that hereinafter they will neither love, honor, nor obey each other, neither for better nor for worse! Being of sound mind and body, herein fail not, so help you God! Signed, Benaja Widdup, Justice of the Peace for the County of Piedmont, State of Tennessee!” (Holds out the paper to RANSIE.)

ARIELA: Hold on, Judge! Don’t you give him that paper yet. (BENAJA withdraws the paper from RANSIE’S waiting hand.) T’aint all settled, no-how! I got to have my ali-money rst.

RANSIE: Ali-money?ARIELA: I’m a-goin’ up to Brother Ed’s on Hogback Mountain, so I’m

goin’ to need a pair of shoes and some other things besides. If Ransie kin afford a dee-vorce, let him pay me ali-money!

RANSIE: (Perplexed.) I never had no idea you’d be wantin’ any ali-money!

BENAJA: This point demands a judicial decision! Ransie, your ex-wife’s feet are bare, and the trail to Hogback Mountain is steep and inty. Ariela, how much did you allow would be good and suf cient ali-money?

ARIELA: Well, for the shoes and all… ve dollars. That ain’t much for ali-money, but I reckon it’ll get me up to Brother Ed’s.

BENAJA: The amount don’t seem unreasonable. Ransie Bilbro, you are ordered by this court to pay the plaintiff the sum of ve dollars for ali-money before the decree of dee-vorce will be issued.

RANSIE: I hain’t got no more money. I done paid you all I had.BENAJA: (Severe.) Then you be in contempt of court!RANSIE: Well, I reckon if you give me ‘til tomorrow, I might be able

to scrape it up somewheres. (To ARIELA.) I never looked for to be a-payin’ no ali-money!

BENAJA: (Bangs his gavel on the desk.) Case adjourned ‘til tomorrow, when you-all will present yourselves and obey the order of this court, followin’ of which the decree of dee-vorce will be issued. (RANSIE and ARIELA EXIT RIGHT, still in a huff.)

STORYTELLER: Ransie and Ariela headed off to Uncle Zeke’s to spend the night. When it began to get dark, Justice of the Peace Benaja Widdup started home for supper in his double log cabin up

tomorrow evening for a few minutes… in a cab… to escort her to Wallack’s Theatre. Her mother and a large party of friends will be waiting there for us. Do you think she would listen to a declaration from me during that six or eight minutes under those circumstances? No. And what chance would I have in the theatre or afterward? I’m afraid this is one tangle that your money can’t unravel. We can’t buy one minute of time with cash. If we could, rich people would live longer. There’s no hope of getting a talk with Miss Lantry before she sails.

ANTONIA: (Calm.) We’ll see. Run along to your club, son. (HeEXITS.)

ELLEN: Poor boy! I wish there was something we could do.ANTONIA: (Paces, deep in thought.) Maybe you can’t order eternity

wrapped up and delivered at your residence for a price, but I’ve seen Father Time get some pretty bad bruises on his heels when he walked through the gold diggings!

ELLEN: I wish you wouldn’t think so much about money, sister. Wealth is nothing where true affection is concerned. Love is all-powerful. If only Richard had spoken earlier to Miss Lantry! She could not have refused him. But now I fear it is too late. He will have no opportunity to speak with her… and all your gold cannot bring happiness to your son.

ANTONIA: (Preoccupied. Speaks as if to self.) Mmmm, what’s that you say, Ellen? Gold cannot bring happiness? Perhaps, perhaps. It remains to be seen… (EXITS LEFT.)

ELLEN: (Looks after her, puzzled.) Well, I have an idea of my own that might help my nephew in this dilemma! (Reaches into her pocket and takes out a small ring box.)

ROSIE: (To AUDIENCE.) At eight o’clock the next evening, Miss Ellen took a quaint old gold ring out of a moth-eaten case and gave it to Richard. (RICHARD ENTERS LEFT.)

ELLEN: (Offers the ring.) I want you to wear this ring tonight, Richard. My mother… your grandmother… gave it to me and told me that it brought good luck in love. She asked me to give it to you when you found the one you loved.

RICHARD: Thanks, Aunt Ellen. (Tries to put the ring on a nger, but all are too big.) I can’t wear it, but I’ll keep it in my pocket. It’s kind of you to think of me, but I don’t have much hope of nding any use for this ring. I’ve got to run now. Miss Lantry is expecting me to have the cab for her on time. (EXITS LEFT, with ELLEN.)

ROSIE: (To AUDIENCE.) Well, my brother Tim—he’s the gardener for the Rockwall family—and I can testify to what happened that

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the slope. (LIGHTS FADE OUT. BENAJA EXITS LEFT. RANSIE ENTERS RIGHT with a cardboard cutout bush and hides behind it CENTER. LIGHTS FADE UP DIM. BENAJA ENTERS DOWN LEFT and crosses CENTER.) As Benaja crossed the little creek in the middle of a laurel thicket, the dark gure of a man jumped out in front of him and pointed a ri e at his heart. (RANSIE, with his hat pulled low over his eyes and his bandana tied around his face, jumps out in front of BENAJA with a ri e.)

RANSIE: (Disguises his voice.) I want your money! Hand it over! Hurry up! I’m a-gittin’ nervous, and my ngers is a-wobblin’ on this here trigger!

BENAJA: (Terri ed, raises his hands over his head.) I… I’ve only got f-f- ve dollars.

RANSIE: Roll it up and stick it in the end of this here gun barrel! (BENAJA complies, trembling.) Now, I reckon you can be goin’ along… and don’t look back! (BENAJA hurries OFF LEFT and RANSIE hurries OFF RIGHT. LIGHTS FADE OUT. STRIKE cardboard cutout bush. BENAJA resumes his place behind his desk. LIGHTS FADE UP LEFT.)

STORYTELLER: The next day, Benaja Widdup had his hat on, ready for business, when Ransie Bilbro and his wife Ariela returned to his of ce. (RANSIE and ARIELA ENTER RIGHT.) Ransie Bilbro handed to Ariela a ve-dollar bill. Benaja Widdup viewed it sharply. It seemed to curl up as though it had been rolled up and stuck into the end of a gun barrel, but he refrained from comment. It was logical that other ve-dollar bills might have been inclined to curl. He then handed over the decree of dee-vorce, but Ransie and Ariela stood awkwardly silent… he slowly folding the guarantee of freedom, and she slowly folding the ve-dollar bill.

ARIELA: Well, Ransie, I reckon you’ll be goin’ back up to the cabin?RANSIE: I reckon I will.ARIELA: There’s bread in the tin box, and I put the bacon in the boilin’

pot to keep the hounds from gittin’ it. Don’t forgit to wind the clock tonight.

RANSIE: You goin’ up to your brother Ed’s now?ARIELA: Yes. I ain’t sayin’ he’ll want to make me welcome, but I

hain’t nowheres else to go. (Pause.) Well, I’ll be sayin’ good-bye, Ransie.

RANSIE: Well… (Pause. Fidgets with the paper.)BENAJA: (Thoughtful.) Gonna be kinda lonesome in that old cabin

tonight, Ransie.

here, too. Now, Miss Ellen is a very kind and sentimental lady, and Mrs. Rockwall has a temper that might be described as a bit peppery, but their hearts are of one accord when it comes to their young nephew and son, Mr. Richard Rockwall. One evening, not so long ago, Mrs. Rockwall called Richard into the parlor.

RICHARD: (ENTERS, kisses AUNT ELLEN on the cheek.) Aunt Ellen. (Kisses ANTONIA on her cheek and sits opposite her.) You wanted to see me, Mother?

ANTONIA: My boy, you are a gentleman. You have as much money to waste as any young man, and yet you stick to what is decent and moderate. Your late father made a fortune in soap… but you do little, or nothing, with that fortune!

RICHARD: (Gloomy.) Mother, there are some things that money just can’t buy.

ANTONIA: (Shocked.) What? Tell me one thing that money won’t buy!

RICHARD: For one thing, it won’t buy me into the exclusive circles of society.

ANTONIA: Oh, won’t it? You tell me where your exclusive circles of society would be if the rst Astor hadn’t had the money to pay his steerage passage over to America! There’s something wrong with you, son. I’ve noticed it now for two weeks. Now, I could lay my hands on about 11 million within 24 hours, if you need it. Or, if it’s a physical ailment, there is a ship bound for the Bahamas in two days.

RICHARD: Those are not bad guesses, Mother, but you’re missing the mark.

ANTONIA: Ah! I see. What’s her name? (He turns aside in embarrassment.) Why don’t you ask her the big question? You’ve got money and good looks, and you’re a decent boy. You’ve been to college, but I’m sure she’ll overlook that.

RICHARD: I haven’t had a chance to ask her!ANTONIA: Then make one. Take her for a walk in the park or go out

for a long carriage ride.RICHARD: You don’t know her social mill. Every minute of her time

is arranged for days in advance. But I must have her! I’m crazy in love with her, and I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t have her!

ANTONIA: Do you mean to tell me that with all the money I’ve got, you can’t get an hour or two of this girl’s time for yourself?

RICHARD: I’ve put it off too late. Miss Lantry sails for Europe at noon the day after tomorrow for a two-year stay! I’m to see her

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RANSIE: (Stares at the oor.) It’ll be lonesome, sure, but when folks gets mad and wants a dee-vorce, you can’t make folks stay.

ARIELA: (Stares at the oor.) Nobody don’t want nobody to stay.RANSIE: Nobody never said they didn’t.ARIELA: Nobody never said they did. (Pause.) I reckon I better start

on to Brother Ed’s. (Starts out.)RANSIE: (Grabs her hand as she passes him.) Nobody can wind that

old clock like you, Ariela.ARIELA: (Shy.) Want me to go back with you and wind it for you?RANSIE: I do! And them hounds shan’t pester you no more, I promise.

I reckon I been mean and low-down, but I won’t be no more. Will you wind the clock tonight?

ARIELA: I will. My heart’s in that cabin, Ransie, along with you. I ain’t goin’ to git mad no more. Let’s be startin’ so’s we can git home by sundown. (They start out.)

BENAJA: Hold it! (They stop and turn back.) In the name of the State of Tennessee, I forbid y’all to be de-fyin’ its laws and statutes! The court is full of joy to see the clouds of discord and misunderstandin’ rollin’ away from two lovin’ hearts, but the court reminds you that you be no longer man and wife, and as such, be not entitled to the bene ts and ’purtenances of the mattermonial estate! (RANSIEand ARIELA look at each other in dismay.) However, the court is prepared to remove the disabilities of dee-vorce and perform the solemn ceremony of marriage, thus xin’ things up and enablin’ the parties to resume the honorable and elevatin’ state of mattermony! (Pause.) The fee for performin’ said ceremony will be, in this case, ve dollars! (ARIELA hands the ve-dollar bill to BENAJA, then she and RANSIE hold hands and stand in front of BENAJA who opens his bible to perform the marriage ceremony in rapid mime.)

STORYTELLER: And so Ransie and Ariela Bilbro were reunited in marriage and set off together for their cabin in the mountains. (RANSIE and ARIELA rush OUT LEFT, hand in hand.) Justice of the Peace Benaja Widdup took off his hat and ngered that ve-dollar bill… and life went on, like a whirligig. (LIGHTS OUT LEFT. BENAJA and STORYTELLER EXIT. STRIKE desk, stool, bench and rocking chair. A table and three chairs are BROUGHT ON CENTER, and a bench LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT. LANE has been reading intently.)

CHRIS: What goes around comes around, just like a whirligig. O. Henry sure had a way with a twist, didn’t he?

LUPE: Those twists were his trademark.

LANE: O. Henry? More like “Oh, brother.” (Sighs and turns on his side, facing the AUDIENCE, settling in for a nap.)

CHRIS: Not sold on O. Henry yet, eh? (LANE shrugs.)LUPE: (Takes the book from LANE.) All right, then, how ‘bout I read

you a little bedtime story?LANE: It’ll put me to sleep, that’s for sure!LUPE: Okay, so this time we’re headed to a more urban setting. O.

Henry loved New York. He loved the crush of humanity there. He wrote about all the different types of people he saw, from folks in the highest positions in society to the lowest, and he really tried to capture them.

CHRIS: I’d say he succeeded.LUPE: Yeah, he really had a gift for getting inside people, and also

their relationships. (Points to page in book. To LANE.) Here, I’m going to read you this one. It’s a mother/son thing: “Mammon and the Archer.”

LANE: (Raises his head.) Mammon?LUPE: Another word for money.LANE: And the Archer?CHRIS: Cupid, naturally!LANE: Right. (Rests his head back down. During the following story,

he seems to nap, but we can tell he’s listening.)LUPE: (LIGHTS DIM RIGHT. SPOT UP on book.) The story begins

in the parlor of the Rockwall Mansion in New York City. First, we meet Mrs. Antonia Rockwall, a very rich lady, and her Irish housekeeper, Rosie, who tells the story. (LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

“Mammon and the Archer”SETTING: A parlor in the Rockwall Mansion, with a table and three chairs. A bench represents a New York City cab.LIGHTS UP LEFT: ANTONIA sits at the table with a ledger book. ELLEN sits UPSTAGE of table, doing needlework.ROSIE: (ENTERS RIGHT with a pen and ink bottle.) Here you are,

ma’am.ANTONIA: Thank you, Rosie.ROSIE: (Moves LEFT to narrate the story.) My name is Rosie

Kelly. I’m housekeeper for Mrs. Antonia Rockwall, widow of old Mr. Rockwall, who was proprietor of Rockwall’s Eureka Soap Company… from which he made a vast fortune! Mrs. Rockwall’s sister, Miss Ellen, who’s also much oppressed by wealth, lives

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RANSIE: (Stares at the oor.) It’ll be lonesome, sure, but when folks gets mad and wants a dee-vorce, you can’t make folks stay.

ARIELA: (Stares at the oor.) Nobody don’t want nobody to stay.RANSIE: Nobody never said they didn’t.ARIELA: Nobody never said they did. (Pause.) I reckon I better start

on to Brother Ed’s. (Starts out.)RANSIE: (Grabs her hand as she passes him.) Nobody can wind that

old clock like you, Ariela.ARIELA: (Shy.) Want me to go back with you and wind it for you?RANSIE: I do! And them hounds shan’t pester you no more, I promise.

I reckon I been mean and low-down, but I won’t be no more. Will you wind the clock tonight?

ARIELA: I will. My heart’s in that cabin, Ransie, along with you. I ain’t goin’ to git mad no more. Let’s be startin’ so’s we can git home by sundown. (They start out.)

BENAJA: Hold it! (They stop and turn back.) In the name of the State of Tennessee, I forbid y’all to be de-fyin’ its laws and statutes! The court is full of joy to see the clouds of discord and misunderstandin’ rollin’ away from two lovin’ hearts, but the court reminds you that you be no longer man and wife, and as such, be not entitled to the bene ts and ’purtenances of the mattermonial estate! (RANSIEand ARIELA look at each other in dismay.) However, the court is prepared to remove the disabilities of dee-vorce and perform the solemn ceremony of marriage, thus xin’ things up and enablin’ the parties to resume the honorable and elevatin’ state of mattermony! (Pause.) The fee for performin’ said ceremony will be, in this case, ve dollars! (ARIELA hands the ve-dollar bill to BENAJA, then she and RANSIE hold hands and stand in front of BENAJA who opens his bible to perform the marriage ceremony in rapid mime.)

STORYTELLER: And so Ransie and Ariela Bilbro were reunited in marriage and set off together for their cabin in the mountains. (RANSIE and ARIELA rush OUT LEFT, hand in hand.) Justice of the Peace Benaja Widdup took off his hat and ngered that ve-dollar bill… and life went on, like a whirligig. (LIGHTS OUT LEFT. BENAJA and STORYTELLER EXIT. STRIKE desk, stool, bench and rocking chair. A table and three chairs are BROUGHT ON CENTER, and a bench LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT. LANE has been reading intently.)

CHRIS: What goes around comes around, just like a whirligig. O. Henry sure had a way with a twist, didn’t he?

LUPE: Those twists were his trademark.

LANE: O. Henry? More like “Oh, brother.” (Sighs and turns on his side, facing the AUDIENCE, settling in for a nap.)

CHRIS: Not sold on O. Henry yet, eh? (LANE shrugs.)LUPE: (Takes the book from LANE.) All right, then, how ‘bout I read

you a little bedtime story?LANE: It’ll put me to sleep, that’s for sure!LUPE: Okay, so this time we’re headed to a more urban setting. O.

Henry loved New York. He loved the crush of humanity there. He wrote about all the different types of people he saw, from folks in the highest positions in society to the lowest, and he really tried to capture them.

CHRIS: I’d say he succeeded.LUPE: Yeah, he really had a gift for getting inside people, and also

their relationships. (Points to page in book. To LANE.) Here, I’m going to read you this one. It’s a mother/son thing: “Mammon and the Archer.”

LANE: (Raises his head.) Mammon?LUPE: Another word for money.LANE: And the Archer?CHRIS: Cupid, naturally!LANE: Right. (Rests his head back down. During the following story,

he seems to nap, but we can tell he’s listening.)LUPE: (LIGHTS DIM RIGHT. SPOT UP on book.) The story begins

in the parlor of the Rockwall Mansion in New York City. First, we meet Mrs. Antonia Rockwall, a very rich lady, and her Irish housekeeper, Rosie, who tells the story. (LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

“Mammon and the Archer”SETTING: A parlor in the Rockwall Mansion, with a table and three chairs. A bench represents a New York City cab.LIGHTS UP LEFT: ANTONIA sits at the table with a ledger book. ELLEN sits UPSTAGE of table, doing needlework.ROSIE: (ENTERS RIGHT with a pen and ink bottle.) Here you are,

ma’am.ANTONIA: Thank you, Rosie.ROSIE: (Moves LEFT to narrate the story.) My name is Rosie

Kelly. I’m housekeeper for Mrs. Antonia Rockwall, widow of old Mr. Rockwall, who was proprietor of Rockwall’s Eureka Soap Company… from which he made a vast fortune! Mrs. Rockwall’s sister, Miss Ellen, who’s also much oppressed by wealth, lives

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the slope. (LIGHTS FADE OUT. BENAJA EXITS LEFT. RANSIE ENTERS RIGHT with a cardboard cutout bush and hides behind it CENTER. LIGHTS FADE UP DIM. BENAJA ENTERS DOWN LEFT and crosses CENTER.) As Benaja crossed the little creek in the middle of a laurel thicket, the dark gure of a man jumped out in front of him and pointed a ri e at his heart. (RANSIE, with his hat pulled low over his eyes and his bandana tied around his face, jumps out in front of BENAJA with a ri e.)

RANSIE: (Disguises his voice.) I want your money! Hand it over! Hurry up! I’m a-gittin’ nervous, and my ngers is a-wobblin’ on this here trigger!

BENAJA: (Terri ed, raises his hands over his head.) I… I’ve only got f-f- ve dollars.

RANSIE: Roll it up and stick it in the end of this here gun barrel! (BENAJA complies, trembling.) Now, I reckon you can be goin’ along… and don’t look back! (BENAJA hurries OFF LEFT and RANSIE hurries OFF RIGHT. LIGHTS FADE OUT. STRIKE cardboard cutout bush. BENAJA resumes his place behind his desk. LIGHTS FADE UP LEFT.)

STORYTELLER: The next day, Benaja Widdup had his hat on, ready for business, when Ransie Bilbro and his wife Ariela returned to his of ce. (RANSIE and ARIELA ENTER RIGHT.) Ransie Bilbro handed to Ariela a ve-dollar bill. Benaja Widdup viewed it sharply. It seemed to curl up as though it had been rolled up and stuck into the end of a gun barrel, but he refrained from comment. It was logical that other ve-dollar bills might have been inclined to curl. He then handed over the decree of dee-vorce, but Ransie and Ariela stood awkwardly silent… he slowly folding the guarantee of freedom, and she slowly folding the ve-dollar bill.

ARIELA: Well, Ransie, I reckon you’ll be goin’ back up to the cabin?RANSIE: I reckon I will.ARIELA: There’s bread in the tin box, and I put the bacon in the boilin’

pot to keep the hounds from gittin’ it. Don’t forgit to wind the clock tonight.

RANSIE: You goin’ up to your brother Ed’s now?ARIELA: Yes. I ain’t sayin’ he’ll want to make me welcome, but I

hain’t nowheres else to go. (Pause.) Well, I’ll be sayin’ good-bye, Ransie.

RANSIE: Well… (Pause. Fidgets with the paper.)BENAJA: (Thoughtful.) Gonna be kinda lonesome in that old cabin

tonight, Ransie.

here, too. Now, Miss Ellen is a very kind and sentimental lady, and Mrs. Rockwall has a temper that might be described as a bit peppery, but their hearts are of one accord when it comes to their young nephew and son, Mr. Richard Rockwall. One evening, not so long ago, Mrs. Rockwall called Richard into the parlor.

RICHARD: (ENTERS, kisses AUNT ELLEN on the cheek.) Aunt Ellen. (Kisses ANTONIA on her cheek and sits opposite her.) You wanted to see me, Mother?

ANTONIA: My boy, you are a gentleman. You have as much money to waste as any young man, and yet you stick to what is decent and moderate. Your late father made a fortune in soap… but you do little, or nothing, with that fortune!

RICHARD: (Gloomy.) Mother, there are some things that money just can’t buy.

ANTONIA: (Shocked.) What? Tell me one thing that money won’t buy!

RICHARD: For one thing, it won’t buy me into the exclusive circles of society.

ANTONIA: Oh, won’t it? You tell me where your exclusive circles of society would be if the rst Astor hadn’t had the money to pay his steerage passage over to America! There’s something wrong with you, son. I’ve noticed it now for two weeks. Now, I could lay my hands on about 11 million within 24 hours, if you need it. Or, if it’s a physical ailment, there is a ship bound for the Bahamas in two days.

RICHARD: Those are not bad guesses, Mother, but you’re missing the mark.

ANTONIA: Ah! I see. What’s her name? (He turns aside in embarrassment.) Why don’t you ask her the big question? You’ve got money and good looks, and you’re a decent boy. You’ve been to college, but I’m sure she’ll overlook that.

RICHARD: I haven’t had a chance to ask her!ANTONIA: Then make one. Take her for a walk in the park or go out

for a long carriage ride.RICHARD: You don’t know her social mill. Every minute of her time

is arranged for days in advance. But I must have her! I’m crazy in love with her, and I don’t know what I’ll do if I can’t have her!

ANTONIA: Do you mean to tell me that with all the money I’ve got, you can’t get an hour or two of this girl’s time for yourself?

RICHARD: I’ve put it off too late. Miss Lantry sails for Europe at noon the day after tomorrow for a two-year stay! I’m to see her

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and wrote out the dee-vorce decree upon a sheet of paper. When he had nished, he read it aloud to Ransie Bilbro and his wife Ariela.

BENAJA: Stand up! (RANSIE and ARIELA stand; BENAJA reads from the divorce paper.) “Know all men that Ransie Bilbro and his wife, Ariela Bilbro, this day personally appeared before me and promises that hereinafter they will neither love, honor, nor obey each other, neither for better nor for worse! Being of sound mind and body, herein fail not, so help you God! Signed, Benaja Widdup, Justice of the Peace for the County of Piedmont, State of Tennessee!” (Holds out the paper to RANSIE.)

ARIELA: Hold on, Judge! Don’t you give him that paper yet. (BENAJA withdraws the paper from RANSIE’S waiting hand.) T’aint all settled, no-how! I got to have my ali-money rst.

RANSIE: Ali-money?ARIELA: I’m a-goin’ up to Brother Ed’s on Hogback Mountain, so I’m

goin’ to need a pair of shoes and some other things besides. If Ransie kin afford a dee-vorce, let him pay me ali-money!

RANSIE: (Perplexed.) I never had no idea you’d be wantin’ any ali-money!

BENAJA: This point demands a judicial decision! Ransie, your ex-wife’s feet are bare, and the trail to Hogback Mountain is steep and inty. Ariela, how much did you allow would be good and suf cient ali-money?

ARIELA: Well, for the shoes and all… ve dollars. That ain’t much for ali-money, but I reckon it’ll get me up to Brother Ed’s.

BENAJA: The amount don’t seem unreasonable. Ransie Bilbro, you are ordered by this court to pay the plaintiff the sum of ve dollars for ali-money before the decree of dee-vorce will be issued.

RANSIE: I hain’t got no more money. I done paid you all I had.BENAJA: (Severe.) Then you be in contempt of court!RANSIE: Well, I reckon if you give me ‘til tomorrow, I might be able

to scrape it up somewheres. (To ARIELA.) I never looked for to be a-payin’ no ali-money!

BENAJA: (Bangs his gavel on the desk.) Case adjourned ‘til tomorrow, when you-all will present yourselves and obey the order of this court, followin’ of which the decree of dee-vorce will be issued. (RANSIE and ARIELA EXIT RIGHT, still in a huff.)

STORYTELLER: Ransie and Ariela headed off to Uncle Zeke’s to spend the night. When it began to get dark, Justice of the Peace Benaja Widdup started home for supper in his double log cabin up

tomorrow evening for a few minutes… in a cab… to escort her to Wallack’s Theatre. Her mother and a large party of friends will be waiting there for us. Do you think she would listen to a declaration from me during that six or eight minutes under those circumstances? No. And what chance would I have in the theatre or afterward? I’m afraid this is one tangle that your money can’t unravel. We can’t buy one minute of time with cash. If we could, rich people would live longer. There’s no hope of getting a talk with Miss Lantry before she sails.

ANTONIA: (Calm.) We’ll see. Run along to your club, son. (HeEXITS.)

ELLEN: Poor boy! I wish there was something we could do.ANTONIA: (Paces, deep in thought.) Maybe you can’t order eternity

wrapped up and delivered at your residence for a price, but I’ve seen Father Time get some pretty bad bruises on his heels when he walked through the gold diggings!

ELLEN: I wish you wouldn’t think so much about money, sister. Wealth is nothing where true affection is concerned. Love is all-powerful. If only Richard had spoken earlier to Miss Lantry! She could not have refused him. But now I fear it is too late. He will have no opportunity to speak with her… and all your gold cannot bring happiness to your son.

ANTONIA: (Preoccupied. Speaks as if to self.) Mmmm, what’s that you say, Ellen? Gold cannot bring happiness? Perhaps, perhaps. It remains to be seen… (EXITS LEFT.)

ELLEN: (Looks after her, puzzled.) Well, I have an idea of my own that might help my nephew in this dilemma! (Reaches into her pocket and takes out a small ring box.)

ROSIE: (To AUDIENCE.) At eight o’clock the next evening, Miss Ellen took a quaint old gold ring out of a moth-eaten case and gave it to Richard. (RICHARD ENTERS LEFT.)

ELLEN: (Offers the ring.) I want you to wear this ring tonight, Richard. My mother… your grandmother… gave it to me and told me that it brought good luck in love. She asked me to give it to you when you found the one you loved.

RICHARD: Thanks, Aunt Ellen. (Tries to put the ring on a nger, but all are too big.) I can’t wear it, but I’ll keep it in my pocket. It’s kind of you to think of me, but I don’t have much hope of nding any use for this ring. I’ve got to run now. Miss Lantry is expecting me to have the cab for her on time. (EXITS LEFT, with ELLEN.)

ROSIE: (To AUDIENCE.) Well, my brother Tim—he’s the gardener for the Rockwall family—and I can testify to what happened that

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“The Whirligig of Life”SETTING: The of ce of Justice of the Peace Benaja Widdup, represented by a tall desk and stool and a bench.LIGHTS UP LEFT: BENAJA sits at the desk, looking over a large book. STORYTELLER sits in rocking chair.STORYTELLER: (To AUDIENCE.) Let me tell you what happened a

short time ago on a warm day in early summer. The Cumberland Mountains rose up blue-gray in the late afternoon haze, and all was quiet in our little settlement here in Piedmont County, until Ransie Bilbro and his young wife, Ariela, suddenly burst into the of ce of Justice of the Peace Benaja Widdup. (ARIELA and RANSIE ENTER LEFT in a huff, shoving each other and jockeying for the best position in front of BENAJA, who hastily puts on his hat. ARIELA is barefoot.)

ARIELA: We’all wants a dee-vorce!RANSIE: That’s right! A dee-vorce! We all can’t git along together

no-how! It’s lonesome enough to live in the mountains when a man and a woman cares for one another. But when she’s always a-spittin’ like a wildcat or a-moanin’ like a hoot owl in the cabin, a man ain’t got no call to live with her!

ARIELA: (Calm.) When he’s a no-count varmint always keepin’ company with scalawags and moon shiners and a-sprawlin’ on his back a-guzzlin’ corn whiskey and a-pesterin’ folks with a pack of mangy hounds, a woman ain’t got no call to live with him!

RANSIE: When she keeps throwin’ skillet lids and slingin’ boilin’ water on the best coon-dog in the Cumberlands and keeps a man awake nights accusin’ him of all sorts of misdeeds!

ARIELA: When he’s always a- ghtin’ the revenooers and gets a bad name in the mountains for bein’ a mean man, who’s goin’ to be able to sleep nights?

BENAJA: Set down! (They sit on the bench at LEFT as he ips through his big book.) Accordin’ to equity… and the Constitution… and the Golden Rule, if a justice of the peace can marry a couple, it’s plain that he can dee-vorce ’em. This here of ce will issue a decree of dee-vorce… providin’ you can pay for it.

RANSIE: (Takes a ve-dollar bill from his pocket.) I sold a bearskin and two foxes for that. It’s all the money we got.

BENAJA: The regular price of a dee-vorce in this court is… ve dollars! (Snatches the money and stuffs it into his pocket. Writes.)

STORYTELLER: (To AUDIENCE.) Benaja Widdup stuffed that ve-dollar bill into his pocket with a most deceptive air of indifference

evening… and it was one of the most remarkable things I ever saw! (RICHARD and MISS LANTRY ENTER LEFT and sit on a high bench, representing the inside of the cab.) Young Mr. Richard called for Miss Lantry in the cab at 8:30 and headed for Wallack’s Theatre. They whirled up 42nd Street to Broadway, but at 34th

Street, Richard suddenly ordered the cabman to stop.RICHARD: (Calls to imaginary cabman.) Stop! I’ve dropped a ring. It

was my grandmother’s, and I’d hate to lose it. I saw where it fell… it’ll only take a minute. (Acts out the story as ROSIE tells it.)

ROSIE: Richard stepped out of the cab, found the ring and was back inside in a minute. But during that minute, you won’t believe what happened! A cross-town streetcar stopped directly in front of the cab. The cabman tried to pass on the left, but a big express wagon cut him off! He tried the right side and had to back away from a furniture van! The cab was blockaded in a tangled mess of vehicles and horses, as is known from time to time to tie things up quite suddenly in the big city.

MISS LANTRY: (Impatient.) Tell the cabman to drive on, Richard. We’ll be late.

ROSIE: But the space where Broadway, 6th Avenue, and 34th Street cross was lled as tight as a 26-inch maiden lls her 22-inch girdle! All the traf c in Manhattan seemed to have jammed itself around that cab! And still from all the cross streets, they were hurrying and rattling towards the intersection at full speed, locking wheels and adding their drivers’ curses to the clamor. The oldest New Yorker among the thousands of spectators that lined the sidewalks had not witnessed a street blockade of the proportions of this one.

RICHARD: (Has been looking out in amazement, sits down.) I’m very sorry, but it looks as if we’re stuck. They won’t get this jumble loosened up for an hour. It was my fault. If I hadn’t dropped this ring…

MISS LANTRY: (Smiles.) Well, now that it can’t be helped, I really don’t care if we go to the theatre or not. May I see the ring?

RICHARD: (Hands it to her.) It was my grandmother’s. I’ve been told that… that it brings good luck… in love.

MISS LANTRY: It’s beautiful, Richard.RICHARD: Would you like to try it on? (Slips the ring on her nger.

LIGHTS FADE OUT. RICHARD and MISS LANTRY EXIT LEFT; ANTONIA takes her seat at the table CENTER. LIGHTS FADE UP.)

ELLEN: (ENTERS LEFT, excited.) Antonia! Isn’t it wonderful? Our Richard and Miss Lantry are engaged! Don’t ever boast of the

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whenever you got excited, that wound hurt you and made you kind of crazy, and you’d go ravin’ about pancakes! He told us you might become dangerous and to take precautions. Which I did! (Pullsout gun, then pockets it and laughs.) Well, well. That Jackson Bird is sure a seldom kind of a snoozer! (EXITS, chuckling. JUD returns to camp area CENTER.)

COWBOY: How long ago did this happen?JUD: Three years. They’re living on the Mired Mule Ranch now, but I

haven’t seen either of ’em since. I heard Jackson Bird was xing his ranch up with rocking chairs and window curtains all the time he was putting me up the pancake tree. Oh, I got over it after a while, but the boys had a few laughs at my expense.

COWBOY: What about that pancake recipe?JUD: Didn’t I tell you there wasn’t no recipe? The boys around here

hollered for pancakes so much, I nally cut a recipe out of a newspaper to make ’em. As for me, I don’t never eat ’em! I got no appetite for Pi-mi-enta pancakes… or any other kind! (Begins to pound the meat furiously, and the COWBOY returns to his nap. LIGHTS OUT LEFT. JUD and COWBOY EXIT. STRIKE counter, chair and table. A tall desk, stool and bench are BROUGHT ON LEFT, a rocking chair CENTER. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

LUPE: Jookalorum!CHRIS: Poor Jud! Guess he couldn’t work up an appetite for pancakes

after all that.LANE: Candy bars, pancakes… (Digs in his pocket, comes up

empty.) Makes a man hungry! Anyone got ve bucks to lend me for some snacks?

LUPE: No, but ve bucks reminds me of this great one. (Leans over LANE and ips to another page.) You’ve gotta read this.

CHRIS: “The Whirligig of Life”?LUPE: That’s the one. This is from a collection called “Whirligigs.”

You’re going east now to the Cumberland Mountains of Tennessee, speci cally to the of ce of Justice of the Peace Benaja Widdup in a little settlement in Piedmont County, Tennessee.

LANE: (Sighs heavily and settles into his lawn chair.) All I wanted was some chips or a slice of pizza or something…

CHRIS: Just go ahead and read it, these whirligigs are delicious!LANE: A burrito…CHRIS: Read! Read! (LIGHTS DIM RIGHT. SPOT UP brie y on book

as LANE sighs again and begins to read. LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

power of money again! A little emblem of true love—our mother’s dear little ring that symbolized unending and unmercenary affection—was the cause of Richard nding his true happiness.

ANTONIA: (Absorbed in her ledger.) What’s this about a ring?ELLEN: Richard has just told me all about it! On the way to the theatre

last night, he dropped the ring in the street. When he stepped out of the cab to recover it, a blockade surrounded them, and it was two hours before the cab could get out of it. Two hours! Richard spoke to Miss Lantry of his love and won her heart forever!

ANTONIA: Well, I’m very glad that Richard has the girl he wanted. I told him I wouldn’t spare any expense to—

ELLEN: Oh, hush, dear Antonia! What good could your money possibly have done! Money is dross compared with true love. (EXITS LEFT in a happy utter.)

ROSIE: (Looks after ELLEN to be sure she is gone, then beckons to someone OFF LEFT. TIM ENTERS LEFT, looking very cheerful, hat in hand.) Miss Ellen’s gone upstairs, ma’am, and here’s my darlin’ brother, Tim!

TIM: (Nods to ANTONIA.) Good evening, ma’am.ANTONIA: (Smiles.) Good evening, Tim. Well, Rosie, it’s time to settle

up with you and Tim. Let’s see, I gave you $5000 in cash to start. (Reaches for checkbook and begins writing out two checks.)

ROSIE: Yes, ma’am, and I passed it right along to Tim.TIM: I paid out $300 more of my own. I had to go a little above the

estimate. I got the express wagons and cabs mostly for ve dollars, but the trucks and two-horse teams mostly raised me to ten. The motormen wanted ten dollars, and some of the loaded teams 20. The cops struck me the hardest—50 dollars I paid two, and the rest 20 and 25. But didn’t it work beautiful, Mrs. Rockwall?

ROSIE: Tim and I watched it all from a sixth-story window! There was no time for a rehearsal, but the drivers was all on time to the fraction of a second!

TIM: I never saw nothing like it before in me life, ma’am!ANTONIA: There you are—500 each, plus the 300 you were out.

(Hands checks to ROSIE and TIM.) Now, you two don’t despise money, do you?

ROSIE: Oh, no, ma’am! Tim and me can lick the man who invented poverty!

TIM: That we can, ma’am! Thank you, ma’am!ANTONIA: I wish I could have been there to see it. By the way, you

didn’t happen to notice anywhere in the blockade a little chubby

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get sort of remote and dgety about the eyes and try to change the subject. If I held her to it, she would slide out and round up Aunt Emily with her apron pocket howitzer. (WILLELLA EXITS LEFT and AUNT EMILY sails IN with her gun poised and ready.) One day I galloped over to the store with a ne bunch of wild owers for Miss Willella. (Takes owers from camp area and crosses to store where AUNT EMILY stands, reading a letter.) When Aunt Emily saw ’em, she looked at me kinda funny.

AUNT EMILY: Why, Jud, haven’t you heard the news? Willella and Jackson Bird was married up in Palestine yesterday. I just got a letter this morning.

JUD: (To COWBOY.) I dropped them owers and let that news trickle into my ears and down toward my upper left-hand shirt pocket until it got to my feet. (To EMILY.) Would you mind saying that again, Aunt Emily? Maybe my hearing is off, and you only said that prime heifers was 4.80 on the hoof, or something like that?

AUNT EMILY: No. (Reads letter.) Married yesterday and gone to Wa-co and Ni-a-gara Falls on a wedding trip. (Looks at JUD’S stricken face.) Surely you saw the signs all along, Jud. Jackson Bird has been courting Willella ever since that day he took her riding.

JUD: (Explodes.) Then what was all this zizzaparoola about pancakes?! (AUNT EMILY pulls out her gun.) Somebody’s been dealing me pancakes from the bottom of the deck! Talk up, or we’ll mix a pan full of batter right here! Does Miss Willella make pancakes or not?

AUNT EMILY: (Approaches him steadily, gun poised.) She never made a pancake in her life as far as I know. Now, calm down, Jud! You’re all excited and that wound in your head is contaminating your sense of intelligence. Try not to think about pancakes.

JUD: (Exasperated.) I’m not wounded in the head! Jackson Bird told me he was calling on Miss Willella for the purpose of nding out her system of producing pancakes, and he asked me to help him get the ingredients. I done so, with the results you see. (As AUNT EMILY tries to sti e a laugh.) Aunt Emily, tell me straight. Have I been sodded down with Johnson grass by a pink-eyed snoozer?

AUNT EMILY: (With a slow smile, as she puts the gun back in her pocket.) Yes, Jud, it looks like Jackson Bird has humbugged you good! The day after he went riding with Willella, he came over and told us to watch out for you whenever you got to talking about pancakes. He said you was in a camp once where they was cooking apjacks and one of the fellows got mad and slammed you over the head with a fryin’ pan! After that, Jackson said

boy with wings and no clothes on, ying about and shooting arrows with a bow, did you?

TIM: (Puzzled.) A little chubby boy… ying about…?ROSIE: With no clothes on? Shooting arrows? Gracious! Maybe the

cops pinched him!TIM: No, ma’am. We didn’t see nothing like that.ANTONIA: (Chuckles.) I didn’t think so. I was pretty sure that little

rascal wouldn’t be on hand! (LIGHTS OUT LEFT. TIM, ROSIE and ANTONIA EXIT. STRIKE table, chairs and bench. Bed, table and chair are BROUGHT ON CENTER, and a stool and easel with blank canvas LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

CHRIS: That one proves the Beatles wrong… money really can buy love! O. Henry never fails to put things in a new light with his surprise endings.

LUPE: Yup, always makes you think twice. (Glances over at LANE.) Have we lulled our friend to sleep yet? (LANE quickly closes his eyes and pretends to nap.)

CHRIS: Well, if he’s asleep, you can read to me. I’m enjoying it.LUPE: Okay, let’s see if you can guess which one this is. (Quizzes

CHRIS.) It takes place in a little district west of Washington Square in New York City, a quaint old place called…?

CHRIS: Greenwich Village?LUPE: Bingo. (Still quizzing.) So this is one of his more popular

stories…? (Looks expectantly at CHRIS.)CHRIS: Oh, the one about the artists, “The Last Leaf”?LUPE: Yes, you get the prize.LANE: (Perks up a bit.) Prize? You never said there would be prizes.LUPE: Sure, the prize is… I read you the story! (LANE groans and

ops back on his chair.)CHRIS: This is a good one… not funny like the others, though.LUPE: Yeah, O. Henry had a more serious side also. (LIGHTS DIM

RIGHT. SPOT UP on book.) So, to refresh your memory, two young artists, Johnsy and Sue, and an elderly artist, Mr. Behrman, have their little studios in an old three-story brick house. Today we might call them “starving artists.” (LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

“The Last Leaf”SETTING: A Greenwich Village boardinghouse with two studios, one CENTER with a bed, table and chair, the other LEFT with a stool and

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JACKSON: (Tips his hat.) Good luck! (EXITS RIGHT with a smirk on his face.)

JUD: (To COWBOY.) Well, it was ve days before I got another chance to ride over to Pi-mi-enta. (WILLELLA and AUNT EMILY ENTER and take places at the store.) Miss Willella and me passed a gratifying evening at Aunt Emily’s, and we was getting along ne in one another’s estimations. Thinks I, if Jackson Bird can be persuaded to migrate, I win. So, I set my sights on getting that pancake recipe. (Crosses to WILLELLA.) Miss Willella, if there’s anything I like better than the sight of a red steer on green grass, it’s the taste of a nice hot pancake smothered in sugar-house molasses! (AUNT EMILY and WILLELLA exchange startled looks.)

WILLELLA: (Carefully.) Well, yes… that sounds real nice, Mr. Odom.

JUD: Come now, tell me how you make ’em. Pancakes is just whirling in my head like wagon wheels. Pound of our? Eight dozen eggs? How does the catalog of constituents run? (AUNT EMILY pulls a gun from her apron pocket and aims it indirectly at JUD, who backs away, startled.) Great post-holes! Aunt Emily with a gun? Here’s a family that thinks a heap of recipes, protecting ’em with rearms! (Edges back to the COWBOY.) I gave up on the project for that night. I didn’t calculate to tangle with Aunt Emily and her rearms. (AUNT EMILY and WILLELLA EXIT LEFT.) About a week later I met Jackson Bird coming out of Pi-mi-enta as I was coming in. (Crosses LEFT as JACKSON ENTERS from the store.)Got the particulars for them apjacks yet?

JACKSON: No. I haven’t had any success in getting hold of that recipe. Have you?

JUD: I tried, but t’was like trying to dig a prairie dog out of his hole with a peanut hull. That pancake recipe must be a jookalorum, the way they hold on to it.

JACKSON: (Looks very discouraged.) I sure would like to know how to make them pancakes. Out there on my lonely ranch, I lie awake nights, just thinking about how good they would taste! If I only had that recipe!

JUD: Well, one of us is bound to get a rope over its horns before long. So long, Jacksy! (JACKSON EXITS RIGHT, with another smirk on his face. To COWBOY.) When I saw that he wasn’t after Miss Willella, I had more endurable contemplations of that snoozer. I kept trying to get that recipe from Miss Willella. (WILLELLA ENTERS LEFT.) But every time I mentioned pancakes, she would

easel with blank canvas. An open space between them represents a hallway.LIGHTS UP LEFT: JOHNSY lies in bed near a “window,” facing the AUDIENCE. SUE is talking with DOCTOR at CENTER.DOCTOR: Your friend has one chance in ten to survive. This

pneumonia is not what you would call a chivalric old gentleman. Your friend has had her blood thinned by the California climate she comes from, and this New York pneumonia is a red- sted, short-of-breath old duffer!

SUE: Poor Johnsy! Isn’t there something we can do for her?DOCTOR: Her one chance is to want to live. She seems to have

made up her mind that she’s not going to get well. I’ll do all that science can accomplish through my efforts. But if you can get her to talk about the new winter styles, or what she wants for supper, I promise a one-in- ve chance for her, instead of one-in-ten.

SUE: I’ll do my best, Doctor. Thank you. (DOCTOR EXITS LEFT. SUE cries a little into her handkerchief, then pulls herself together and crosses to JOHNSY.) Are you feeling a little better today, Johnsy dear?

JOHNSY: (Looks out the “window” into the AUDIENCE.) Twelve… eleven… ten… nine…

SUE: (Looks out.) What are you counting? I don’t see anything but that old ivy vine, all gnarled and decayed on the brick wall across the yard.

JOHNSY: Eight… seven… six… they’re falling faster now. Three days ago there were almost a hundred. It made my head ache to count them. Now it’s easy. There goes another one. Only ve left now.

SUE: Five what, dear?JOHNSY: Leaves… on that old ivy vine. When the last leaf falls, I

must go, too. I’ve known that for three days now. Didn’t the doctor tell you?

SUE: Why, I never heard such nonsense! What have old ivy vines to do with your getting well or not? And you used to love that vine so, you naughty girl. Don’t be a goosey. Why, the doctor told me this morning that your chances for getting well real soon were—let’s see exactly what he said—he said the chances were ten to one! Why, that’s almost as good a chance as we have in New York when we ride the streetcars. Try to take some broth now, and let me go back to my drawing, so I can sell it to the editor man and buy you some port wine.

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JUD: (To COWBOY.) I couldn’t believe it! Jackson Bird, a sheep man? He looked more like a lamb man to me! (Crosses to JACKSON, ready for a ght.) Mr. Bird! You have come into the company of one who is commonly called Dead-Moral-Certainty Judson on account of the way I shoot. (Twirls his gun.) When I want a stranger to know me, I always introduce myself before the draw, for I never did like to shake hands with a ghost.

JACKSON: I’m glad to know you, Mr. Judson. (Offers his hand, but JUD ignores it.)

JUD: This is a bad habit you have of riding with young ladies here at Pi-mi-enta. I’ve known birds to be served on toast for less than that! Now, are you going to quit, or do you wish to gallop up against this Dead-Moral-Certainty attachment to my name, which is good for at least one set of funeral eulogies?

JACKSON: (Bristles a moment, then laughs.) Now, Mr. Judson, you’ve got the wrong idea. I’ve called on Miss Learight a few times, but not for the purpose you imagine. My object is purely a gastronomical one.

JUD: (Draws his gun, suspicious.) What? Gastro… what?JACKSON: I do my own cooking. Eating is the only pleasure I get

out of sheep raising. Did you ever taste the pancakes that Miss Learight makes?

JUD: (Startled.) Pancakes? No. I never was advised that she was up to any culinary maneuvers.

JACKSON: Her pancakes are golden sunshine! I’d give two years of my life to get the recipe for making them. That’s what I come to see Miss Learight for, but I haven’t been able to get it from her. If I could just get that recipe, I’d be a very happy man.

JUD: Are you sure it ain’t the hand that mixes the pancakes that you’re after?

JACKSON: Sure, Miss Learight is a mighty nice girl, but I can assure you my intentions are simply to procure a copy of her pancake recipe.

JUD: (Puts gun away.) Well, I was thinking of making orphans of your sheep, but I’ll let you y away this time. You stick to pancakes and don’t mistake sentiments for syrup, or there’ll be singing at your ranch and you won’t hear it!

JACKSON: To convince you that I’m sincere, if you will get that pancake recipe for me, I give you my word I’ll never call on Miss Learight again.

JUD: (Thinks a moment.) That’s fair. I’ll get it for you if I can. (Shakeshands.)

JOHNSY: You needn’t get any more wine. There goes another one. No, I don’t want any broth. That leaves just four. I want to see the last one fall before it gets dark. Then I’ll go, too.

SUE: (Stern.) Johnsy, dear, I want you to promise me to keep your eyes closed and not look out the window until I am done working. I must hand in those drawings tomorrow, and I need the light. Otherwise, I would pull the shade down.

JOHNSY: All right. Tell me as soon as you have nished, because I want to see the last leaf fall. I’m tired of waiting… tired of thinking. I want to turn loose my hold on everything and go sailing down… down… down, just like one of those poor, tired leaves.

SUE: Now, stop that talk and try to sleep, dear. I must call Mr. Behrman to come and be my model for the old man in my drawing. I’ll only be a minute. (Crosses LEFT to where MR. BEHRMAN sits on a stool in front of a blank canvas on an easel.) Is there nothing on your canvas today, Mr. Behrman? I was hoping—

BEHRMAN: (Gruff, but not unkind.) Nothing! You see nothing… and you know why, my dear young lady? I am a failure in art! Forty years now I have been a failure! Always, I am about to paint my masterpiece and always I fail to even begin. So, why are you so surprised to see this blank canvas?

SUE: I believe in you, Mr. Behrman. You will paint your masterpiece some day. I know it! But now I need you to come model for me and help me cheer up Johnsy. She’s so very ill, you know.

BEHRMAN: Yes… yes, I am so sorry!SUE: She’s counting the leaves on that old ivy vine outside her

window, and she says that when the last leaf falls, she will go, too.

BEHRMAN: What is this you are telling me? Are there people in this world so foolish as to die because leaves drop off a confounded vine? I never heard of such a thing! Why do you allow that silly business to dwell in her mind? Poor little Johnsy!

SUE: She’s very ill and weak, and the fever has left her mind full of strange fancies. I can do nothing to change her mind. Please, come pose for me now.

BEHRMAN: Pose? I don’t want to pose. This is terrible news you bring me.

SUE: (Laughs.) Oh, don’t be an old ibbertigibbet! You know how she loves to see you, and I need you! You must come.

BEHRMAN: What is this you are calling me? An old ibbertigibbet! Oh, go on, I’ll come with you. This is not any place for one so good

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afternoon, I walked into the store. (Crosses to store.) In a minute, I had a long-handled spoon and an open can of juicy peaches in front of me. I was feeling like Adam before the apple stampede, when I happened to look out the window into the yard. (WILLELLA ENTERS RIGHT, looks curiously into the store area.) There was a girl standing there… an imported girl with xings on… amusing herself by watching my style of encouraging the fruit canning industry. (To EMILY.) Aunt Emily, who is that?

AUNT EMILY: Why, that’s my niece, Miss Willella Learight, down from Palestine on a visit. (Pause.) Why don’t you make yourself acquainted?

JUD: (To COWBOY.) I never was shy about women. I never could understand why some men who can break a mustang before breakfast and shave in the dark, get all left-handed and full of perspiration and excuses when they see a bolt of calico draped around what belongs in it. (Turns to WILLELLA and mimes pleasant conversation.)

AUNT EMILY: (To herself.) Well, would you look at that! Next thing I know, Jud’ll be riding over here to see her once a week!

JUD: (To COWBOY.) I did just that. And then I gured that if I doubled the number of trips, I would see her twice as often. One week I slipped in a third trip, and that’s where the pancakes and the pink-eyed snoozer busted into the game. (WILLELLA EXITS RIGHT. JUD crosses back to store.) Aunt Emily, where is Miss Willella today? I don’t see her around.

AUNT EMILY: Why, she’s gone riding with Jackson Bird, the sheep man from over at Mired Mule Ranch.

JUD: (Chokes.) She’s gone riding? (Splutters.) With Birdstone Jack, the hired mule from Sheep Man’s Ranch? Did you say a sheep man? A snoozer?

AUNT EMILY: (Calm.) You must have heard tell of Jackson Bird. He’s got eight sections of grazing and four thousand head of the nest Merinos south of the Arctic Circle.

JUD: Now, Aunt Emily, you know I never believed in harming sheep men. They never irritated me like they do most cowmen. I have always let ’em pass, just as you would a jackrabbit, with a polite word and a guess about the weather. And because I’ve been lenient and let ’em live, here’s one gone riding with Miss Willella!

AUNT EMILY: (Looks OFF RIGHT.) They’re back. Here they come now. (JACKSON and WILLELLA ENTER RIGHT, arm in arm, smiling. Then WILLELLA sails past JUD with hardly a glance and EXITS LEFT into the store, followed by AUNT EMILY.)

as Miss Johnsy to lie sick in! Some day I will paint my masterpiece, and we shall all go away from here!

SUE: (As they cross to CENTER.) Where would we go? To Naples, perhaps? It’s warm and sunny there, and Johnsy has always told me that she wanted to paint the Bay of Naples some day.

BEHRMAN: Then she must de nitely get well so she can do just that!

SUE: She’s asleep. Come, look out the window. See the ivy vine on the wall over there? (They both look out over the AUDIENCE.)

BEHRMAN: It is raining. Such a cold rain, too… mixed with a little snow, I think.

SUE: Oh, Mr. Behrman! Look! There is only… only one leaf on the vine!

BEHRMAN: You must not let her look out the window! We will pull down the shade. (Mimes this action.) And leave it down! Now, let me pose for you… only for a little while. Then… I must begin my masterpiece. Yes! My masterpiece… for Miss Johnsy! (LIGHTSFADE OUT. BEHRMAN EXITS. SUE sits by bed. LIGHTS FADE UP.)

JOHNSY: (Stirs in bed.) Sue… Sue… is it morning? It’s so dark.SUE: Yes, dear, it’s morning. You slept most of the night. That’s a

good sign.JOHNSY: Pull up the shade. I want to look out the window.SUE: It’s only a cold, wet, windy day. Why not keep it shut out?JOHNSY: No. I want to see out. Pull up the shade.SUE: Johnsy, dear…JOHNSY: Please! (Wearily, SUE mimes raising the window shade,

then gasps at what she sees.) The last leaf is still there! I thought it would surely fall during the night. I heard the wind. Brave little leaf! Clinging there so stubbornly.

SUE: As stubborn as you, Johnsy! You have always been stubborn!JOHNSY: Yes, I know… but something has made that last leaf stay

there to… to show me how wicked I’ve been. It… it’s a sin to want to die, isn’t it? (Pause.) I’m feeling just a little hungry, Sue. Would you bring me a little broth?

SUE: (Delighted.) Of course, dear. I have some already heated. (LIGHTS FADE OUT. DOCTOR ENTERS LEFT. LIGHTS FADE UP.)

DOCTOR: (Smiles at JOHNSY.) Even chances today. You’re out of danger, Miss Johnsy. With good nursing, you’ll recover! (Pause,

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LANE: No, he didn’t! I was all over it. I saw it coming a mile away.CHRIS: Okay, Lupe, it looks like we’re going to have to pull out our

big guns to fool Lane, here. Hey, what’s that one story—it’s my favorite—where a cowboy and a sheep rancher vie for the hand of a young lady… something about pancakes?

LUPE: That would be “Pimienta Pancakes.” (Turns page in book, which LANE is still holding. Gestures for LANE to start reading. LANE pauses, rolls his eyes and reluctantly begins reading as LIGHTS DIM RIGHT and SPOT COMES UP on book.) It takes place in a cattle camp, and a sidelined cowboy tells the tale. (LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

“Pimienta Pancakes”SETTING: A cattle roundup camp with a small table and a bunch of wild owers, and AUNT EMILY’S store, with a counter and chair.LIGHTS UP LEFT: JUD is “pounding meat” with a pistol in a tin pan on the table. COWBOY sits on the ground in front of him.COWBOY: (As storyteller, to AUDIENCE.) While we were rounding up

a bunch of cattle in the Frio bottoms one morning, a dead mesquite branch caught my stirrup and gave my ankle a wrench that laid me up in camp for a week. On the third day of my compulsory idleness, I crawled out near the grub wagon to have some conversation with Jud Odom, the camp cook. Betimes, I was stirred by longings for something to eat that did not come under the caption of “grub.” I said, “Jud, can you make pancakes?” He laid down his six-shooter, with which he was pounding an antelope steak, and stood over me in what I felt to be a menacing attitude. (JUD does so.)

JUD: Did you mean that straight, or was you trying to get my goat? Some of the boys been telling you about me and that pancake racket?

COWBOY: (Sincere, to JUD.) No, Jud. I meant it. I’d swap my pony and saddle for a stack of buttered brown pancakes with some rst-crop, open-kettle New Orleans sweetening. Was there a story about pancakes?

JUD: (Calmer.) No, not a story, just the logical disclosures in the case of me and a pink-eyed snoozer from Mired Mule Ranch and Miss Willella Learight. I was punching cows for old Bill Toomey then. One day I gets aspirations to eat some grub that hasn’t mooed or grunted, so I got on my bronc and pushed the wind for Aunt Emily Telfair’s store at the Pi-mi-enta Crossing. (AUNTEMILY ENTERS and takes her place behind the store counter at LEFT, with an open fruit can and a big spoon.) About three in the

takes SUE to CENTER.) Your neighbor, Mr. Behrman, has come down with pneumonia and the attack is acute. I’m afraid there is no hope for him. He goes to the hospital today to be made more comfortable.

SUE: Oh, I’m so sorry! He was such a good friend… and protector… and he loved Johnsy so! Poor Mr. Behrman!

DOCTOR: Take good care of your friend. Tell her when she is stronger.

SUE: I will. Thank you, Doctor. (LIGHTS FADE OUT. DOCTOR EXITS LEFT. SUE crosses to JOHNSY. LIGHTS FADE UP.)

SUE: Are you still looking out that window, Johnsy dear?JOHNSY: It’s a miracle, Sue. It’s been two days now, and that one

last leaf still clings to the old vine… just as I now cling to life.SUE: That leaf is precious to both of us, dear. Now, I have something

to tell you. Our friend, Mr. Behrman… died of pneumonia today in the hospital.

JOHNSY: Oh, no! Poor old man! I’m so sorry!SUE: The janitor found him lying on the oor and called for help. His

shoes and clothing were wet through and icy cold. They couldn’t imagine where he had been on such a dreadful night. And then they found a lantern, still lighted, and a ladder that had been dragged from its place, and some scattered brushes and a palette with green and yellow colors mixed on it. See, dear… that last ivy leaf on the wall? Didn’t you wonder why it never uttered or moved when the wind blew?

JOHNSY: Well… yes… I did… but I thought…SUE: It will always be there. It’s Mr. Behrman’s masterpiece, Johnsy.

He painted it there the night the last leaf fell. He painted it for you. (LIGHTS OUT. SUE and JOHNSY EXIT. STRIKE bed, table, chair, stool and easel. A dining table and two chairs are BROUGHT ON LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT. LANE continues to lie on his side in silent contemplation, visibly moved, but making sure his friends don’t see.)

LUPE: There is a nice sprinkling of sentimental stories in O. Henry’s repertoire, besides the more lighthearted ones. More often he just writes these pleasant stories with a nice little surprise at the end. In all his stories, though, he creates these very believable characters, people you can really identify with.

CHRIS: Sometimes you feel like you know his characters, like they could be your neighbors or your family, just ordinary folks you know.

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EASTON: (Regretful.) I’m sorry. I wish things could be different, Miss Fairchild.

OTHER MAN: (Coughs loudly.) Say, Marshal, I haven’t had anything to eat all day. How ‘bout taking me to the dining car for some supper? We’re still a long way from Leavenworth.

EASTON: (Glances at OTHER MAN and nods, then turns to MISS FAIRCHILD.) Duty calls. I can’t deny a petition for food. It’s the only friend of the unfortunate, and I’m a bit hungry myself. (Rises,with OTHER MAN.) Good-bye, Miss Fairchild. (Takes her hand with his left hand.)

MISS FAIRCHILD: (Holds his hand, reluctant to let go.) It’s really too bad you’re not going back to Washington. Must you go to Leavenworth?

EASTON: Yes… I’m afraid I must. (Smiles, sad.) Good-bye.MISS FAIRCHILD: (Releases his hand.) Good-bye. (OTHER MAN

tips his hat and goes OFF RIGHT with EASTON, who looks back at MISS FAIRCHILD. She looks after him for a moment and then settles sadly into her seat with a deep sigh.)

PASSENGER: (Looks after the TWO MEN, then leans forward to speak to MISS FAIRCHILD.) That marshal’s a good sort of a chap. Some of these Western fellows are all right!

MISS FAIRCHILD: Yes, and Mr. Easton’s pretty young to hold an of ce like that, don’t you think?

PASSENGER: Easton? Why, my dear, didn’t you catch on to that little scene?

MISS FAIRCHILD: Scene?PASSENGER: Surely, you noticed what was going on.MISS FAIRCHILD: What do you mean?PASSENGER: I feel sorry for you, dear, but surely you know as

well as I that an of cer of the law never handcuffs a prisoner to his right hand. (MISS FAIRCHILD looks startled as she realizes what has happened. LIGHTS OUT LEFT. MISS FAIRCHILD and PASSENGER EXIT. STRIKE benches. A small table and a bunch of wild owers are BROUGHT ON CENTER, and a counter and chair LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

CHRIS: I feel a little sorry for Miss Fairchild, but she should have latched onto Mr. Easton before he got in trouble. Sounds like she might have saved him.

LUPE: O. Henry does like to throw in those twists, doesn’t he?LANE: (Annoyed.) Twists? That was more like a pretzel.LUPE: Aha! I see he got you that time!

LUPE: Right. Or even yourself.CHRIS: Absolutely. (Glances over at LANE.) Hey, you might want to

lighten things up a bit after that one. Our friend, here, looks like he could use some cheering up!

LANE: (Sits up.) I don’t know what you’re talking about.LUPE: (Grins and continues.) Okay, we’ll read a happier one, about

getting away from all the cares of life. (LIGHTS DIM RIGHT. SPOT UP on book.) So this one takes place in the dining room of a luxury hotel on Broadway called the Lotus. It’s quiet and elegant, the perfect setting for two “Transients in Arcadia” who discover—

CHRIS: Oh, don’t ruin it!LUPE: Okay, let’s just say they discover something totally unexpected.

(LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

“Transients in Arcadia”SETTING: The dining room of the elegant Hotel Lotus in New York City.LIGHTS UP LEFT: MISS BEAUMONT and MISS FARRINGTON, elegantly dressed, sit at the table with wine glasses.MISS BEAUMONT: (In a smooth, cultured voice.) This dear Hotel

Lotus is an oasis in the July desert of Manhattan, Miss Farrington. The temperature here is perpetually April, and the distant roar of Broadway is similar to a distant waterfall, pleasant and restful.

MISS FARRINGTON: (Also in a smooth, cultured voice.) I quite agree, Miss Beaumont. And you are a guest that the Hotel Lotus adores. The bellboys ght for the honor of answering your ring, you possess the ne air of the elite, and your gown is exquisite.

MISS BEAUMONT: You are too kind. I can only say in return that you have drifted into the exclusive and calm current of life here at the Lotus so silently, that not a ripple has alarmed any of us. There is not the slightest doubt that you belong here.

MISS FARRINGTON: I feel quite at home here.MISS BEAUMONT: One tires of the old resorts. What is the use to y

to the mountains or the seashore to escape noise and dust, when the very people who make both follow us there?

MISS FARRINGTON: Even on the ocean, the common folk are everywhere around you. The most exclusive steamers are getting to be scarcely more than ferryboats! Heaven help us, when the summer resorter discovers the dear Hotel Lotus!

MISS BEAUMONT: Our secret has been safe for the past week anyhow. I know of but one other place so delightful and exclusive in summer, and that is the castle of Count Polinski in the Ural Mountains.

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MISS FAIRCHILD: But what does this mean, Mr. Easton?OTHER MAN: If you’ll excuse me for speaking up, miss, I see you’re

acquainted with the marshal here.MISS FAIRCHILD: Marshal?OTHER MAN: If you’ll ask him to say a good word for me when we get

to the penitentiary, I’m sure he’ll do it, and it’ll make things easier for me there.

MISS FAIRCHILD: Penitentiary?OTHER MAN: Yes, miss. The marshal is taking me to Leavenworth

Prison. It’s seven years for counterfeiting.MISS FAIRCHILD: (Relieved.) Oh! Counterfeiting. Well, I’m sure he’ll

say a good word for you, if you deserve it. (To EASTON.) So that’s what you’ve been doing out West, Mr. Easton. You’re a marshal!

EASTON: (Modest.) My dear Miss Fairchild, I had to do something. Money has a way of taking wings, and you know it takes money to keep step with our crowd in Washington. A marshal isn’t quite as high a position as that of ambassador, but—

MISS FAIRCHILD: (Quickly.) The ambassador doesn’t call on me any more, and I’m very glad he doesn’t. (Pause.) I should be very glad if you would call on me again when you are in Washington.

EASTON: (Surprised.) You would?MISS FAIRCHILD: Oh, yes. (Admiring.) So now you’re one of those

dashing Western heroes, and you ride and shoot and go into all kinds of dangers! That’s very different from the Washington life.

EASTON: Yes, it is.MISS FAIRCHILD: We’ve missed you there… the old crowd.

(Glances at the handcuffs.) Those handcuffs must be terribly uncomfortable.

OTHER MAN: Oh, don’t you worry about these, miss. All marshals handcuff themselves to their prisoners to keep them from getting away. Mr. Easton knows his business.

MISS FAIRCHILD: Will I see you again soon in Washington, Mr. Easton?

EASTON: I’m afraid not, Miss Fairchild. I… I have some commitments that will keep me here in the West for quite a while.

MISS FAIRCHILD: I love the West! Mama and I spent the summer in Denver. She went home a week ago because Father was slightly ill, but I stayed on for a while. I wouldn’t mind staying longer. I believe I could live and be happy out here. I think the western air agrees with me. (Pauses, looking at him appealingly.) Money isn’t everything, you know.

MISS FARRINGTON: I hear that Baden-Baden and Cannes are almost deserted this season. Year by year, the old resorts fall into disrepute. Perhaps many others, like ourselves, are seeking out the quiet nooks that are overlooked by the majority.

MISS BEAUMONT: I promise myself just one day more of this delicious rest. Tomorrow my ship sails.

MISS FARRINGTON: I shall miss you. I, too, must leave tomorrow.MISS BEAUMONT: One cannot hide here forever, charming though

it may be. My chateau has been in preparation for me longer than a month. Those house parties that one must give… what a nuisance! But I shall never forget my week here in your excellent company, Miss Farrington.

MISS FARRINGTON: Your companionship has made my week here unforgettable as well, Miss Beaumont. (They smile, make a silent toast and drink their wine.)

MISS BEAUMONT: (After a moment, sighs, opens her purse and takes out a dollar.) Miss Farrington, I have something to tell you.

MISS FARRINGTON: Yes?MISS BEAUMONT: I’ll be leaving here before breakfast in the

morning because… (Drops her cultured accent.) …because I have to go back to work.

MISS FARRINGTON: (Shocked.) Work?MISS BEAUMONT: Yeah, I’m behind the hosiery counter at Casey’s

store, and my vacation is up at eight o’clock tomorrow morning. This dollar is the last money I’ll see until I draw my salary next Saturday. You’ve been a kind friend, and I wanted to tell you before I left.

MISS FARRINGTON: Surely, you jest!MISS BEAUMONT: No. I’ve been saving up for a year just for this

vacation. I wanted to spend one week like a lady. I wanted to sleep late and be waited on and ring bells for things just like rich folks do. Now I’ve done it, and I’ve had the happiest time of my life! Tomorrow I’ll go back to work, satis ed for another year.

MISS FARRINGTON: I don’t know what to say!MISS BEAUMONT: And my name isn’t Heloise Beaumont. It’s Mamie

Siviter. And this dress—it’s the only one I have that’s t to wear—I bought it at O’Dowd and Levinsky’s on the installment plan. This dollar will pay the installment due tomorrow.

MISS FARRINGTON: You are very brave to tell me this. (Looks at her a moment, then takes the dollar. MISS BEAUMONT looks at her in surprise.) It’s all right. I’ll give you a receipt.

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CHRIS: Man, what a misunderstanding, eh? When Mack said he was going to marry her, he just meant conduct the ceremony. But Andy thought… ha, ha!

LANE: (Macho.) Yeah, I saw that coming. (LUPE and CHRIS exchange a glance.)

LUPE: The little twist didn’t fool you, eh? Well, try this one. (Leansover and ips the pages of the book.) This one takes place on a train, the B & M Express, to be exact, eastbound from Denver to Kansas City, where two young people meet and try to renew an old acquaintance.

LANE: “Hearts and Hands”?LUPE: That’s it… This one’s about a young woman who tries to…

well, just read it. You’ll see for yourself. (LIGHTS DIM RIGHT. SPOT UP on book.)

CHRIS: Just picture the train and four passengers coming on board. First, there’s the pretty young lady, Miss Fairchild… (LIGHTS COME UP LEFT. MISS FAIRCHILD ENTERS and takes her seat at LEFT.) …then a lady passenger who appears to be rather sharp-eyed and alert to everything going on around her… (PASSENGER ENTERS and sits directly behind MISS FAIRCHILD.) …then there are the two men passengers, a Mr. Easton and the Other Man, whose name we don’t know, who are handcuffed together. (EASTON and OTHER MAN ENTER. EASTON’S right hand is cuffed to OTHER MAN’S left hand. They take the seat opposite MISS FAIRCHILD. EASTON sits glumly, keeping his eyes lowered. OTHER MAN watches MISS FAIRCHILD from the corner of his eye. LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

“Hearts and Hands”SETTING: A railroad coach of the B & M Express represented by four benches with an aisle between, facing the audience.MISS FAIRCHILD: (Looks at EASTON with great interest for a

moment.) Well, Mr. Easton, if you will make me speak rst, I suppose I must. Don’t you recognize old friends when you see them in the West?

EASTON: (Looks up, startled.) Oh, I beg your pardon. It’s Miss Fairchild, of course. (Takes her hand with his left hand.) How nice to see you again. (Grins.) I’ll have to ask you to excuse the other hand. It’s otherwise engaged at present. (Holds up handcuffed hand for her to see.)

MISS FAIRCHILD: (Horri ed.) Oh, dear!EASTON: Don’t be afraid. It’s all right.

MISS BEAUMONT: A receipt?MISS FARRINGTON: (Drops her cultured accent.) Yeah. I gotta go

back to work in the morning, too.MISS BEAUMONT: I don’t understand.MISS FARRINGTON: I’m a bookkeeper in the of ce at O’Dowd and

Levinsky’s. (Laughs.) Funny, isn’t it, that we both had the same idea about spending our vacation here? I’ve always wanted to put up at a swell hotel, and I saved up out of my salary and did it! Say, how about we go to Coney Island next Saturday afternoon and take in the sights? Who knows, maybe we’ll nd a couple of fellows with nothing to do!

MISS BEAUMONT: (Smiles.) You bet! The store closes at noon on Saturday, and I don’t have any plans. I guess Coney will be all right, even if we did spend a wonderful week at the Hotel Lotus!

MISS FARRINGTON: By the way, Mamie, my real name is Jennie McManus.

MISS BEAUMONT: It’s nice to meet you, Jennie. Here’s to tomorrow… and Coney Island! (Lifts glass.)

MISS FARRINGTON: (Lifts glass.) Tomorrow and Coney Island! (They toast and drink. LIGHTS OUT LEFT. MISS BEAUMONT and MISS FARRINGTON EXIT. STRIKE table and chairs. Armchair, ottoman, a table with several items on it and a straight chair are BROUGHT ON LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

LANE: Hey, I saw that situation in a movie recently.LUPE: Like I said, his themes have universal appeal—don’t we all

wish we could be someone else for a while at one time or another in our lives?

CHRIS: O. Henry could really get inside people’s heads and bring their daydreams to life.

LUPE: Well, this next story is very down-to-earth about how you can’t always tell a book by its cover, and you can’t always depend on a certain type of character to be the way you think he ought to be.

CHRIS: Yeah, like this guy… (Pats LANE on the shoulder.) …thoughtO. Henry was just a candy bar! Now he’s gotta be convinced O. Henry’s pretty sensational. Am I right?

LANE: (Sarcastic.) Yeah, sensational. I have goose bumps.LUPE: All right, be nice, now. Listen to this. (LIGHTS DIM RIGHT.

SPOT UP on book.) This next one features a gentleman and a burglar and a couple cases of rheumatism. It’s called, “Makes the Whole World Kin.” Picture a living room, and listen to the voice of the storyteller. (LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

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MISS REBOSA: Would I marry Eddie Bayles at ve o’clock tonight for a thousand dollars? Of course I would!

ANDY: I will write out a check for one thousand dollars. When you and Eddie Bayles are married, I’ll hand it to you.

MISS REBOSA: Please don’t wake me up! You must be some rich uncle retired from the spice business in India! Eddie will buy out Mr. Crosby and run that store himself! Five o’clock, did you say?

ANDY: Five o’clock. It’s nearly time. You’d better hurry! (MISS REBOSA plants a quick kiss on his cheek and hurries OFF LEFT.) Whew! I did it! I saved my old friend Mack from his attack of Indian summer. And he’ll be grateful once he gets out of that stiff suit and those patent leather shoes. We’ll be back to our good old times in the cabin, just Mack and his rocking chair and history book, and me and my banjo, and the Chinese cook and the ham and eggs! To keep him disinvolved from relapses like that is worth more’n a thousand dollars any day. I’m sure glad I’ve made a study of women. I am not to be deceived by their means of conceit and evolution! I’ll just kill time for half an hour or so, and then mosey on back to see Mack. (EXITS LEFT with his suitcase very pleased with himself. LIGHTS FADE OUT brie y to indicate passage of time, then FADE UP. MACK, now comfortable in his old clothes, sits in the rocking chair with his feet propped up, reading a large history book. ANDY strolls IN casually LEFT.) Why, Mack, you don’t look like you’re getting ready for a wedding at six o’clock. It’s past ve thirty.

MACK: Oh, the wedding was moved up to ve o’clock. It’s all over now. I didn’t see you there, Andy.

ANDY: (Startled.) You mean, you heard about the wedding?MACK: Heard about it? I operated it!ANDY: You… you did what?MACK: I told you I was justice of the peace now. The preacher is off

East, visiting his folks, and I’m the only one in town that can perform the dispensations of marriage. I promised Eddie and Rebosa a month ago that I’d marry ’em. He’s a bright lad, and she’s a smart young woman. They’ll have a store of their own some day.

ANDY: (Sinks down on the steps.) Yes… they sure will.MACK: There was lots of women at the wedding, but I didn’t seem

to get any ideas from any of ’em. I wish I was informed in the structure of their attainments like you are, Andy.

ANDY: (Sighs.) That was two months ago, Mack. I’m not as informed as I thought I was! (LIGHTS OUT LEFT. ANDY and MACK EXIT. STRIKE porch and rocking chair. Four benches are BROUGHT ON LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

“Makes the Whole World Kin”SETTING: A room in CITIZEN’S house with an armchair, an ottoman, a straight chair and a table with the following items on it: a crumpled roll of bills, a watch, a set of keys, three poker chips and a pink silk hair bow.LIGHTS UP LEFT: CITIZEN sits in armchair, feet propped on the ottoman.STORYTELLER: (ENTERS LEFT and crosses RIGHT CENTER

during this monologue. To AUDIENCE.) I have come to the conclusion that there are three types of burglars. I have come to this conclusion because burglars have attempted to rob my uncle’s house quite frequently, and when the police come and take them away, I take note of their appearance. Their classi cation is simple. The collar is the distinguishing mark. When a burglar is caught who does not wear a collar, he is described as a degenerate of the lowest type, vicious and depraved. The other well-known type is the burglar who wears a collar. He is invariably a gentleman by day, while after dark he plies his nefarious occupation of burglary. The third type, the last one who entered my uncle’s house, wore a green sweater, and the police would have been baf ed had they attempted to classify him. He entered my uncle’s house through a window that had carelessly been left unlocked and began to prowl. (BURGLAR ENTERS LEFT and begins to prowl around the room.) As my uncle described it to me, after the fact, this burglar wore no mask and carried no dark lantern. He brought only a pistol, and he thoughtfully chewed peppermint gum.

BURGLAR: (Examines the articles on the table.) A crumpled roll of bills, hefty enough. (Stuffs the money into his pocket.) A watch! (Adds that to his pocket.) Keys? Naw. Three poker chips? Naw. (Puzzled.) A pink silk hair bow? (Drops it on the table.) A fair enough touch, I’d say. (Suddenly, CITIZEN utters a squeaky groan and opens his eyes. Upon seeing BURGLAR, he moves one hand toward his breast pocket.) Hold it! (Pulls out his pistol and aims it at CITIZEN.) Sit still! Hold up both your hands! (CITIZEN looks irritable and disgusted, raises his right hand above his head.) Up with the other one! You might have a gun somewhere about you. You might be amphibious and shoot with your left hand. (CITIZENdoesn’t move.) You can count to two, can’t you? Hurry up!

CITIZEN: I can’t raise the other one.BURGLAR: Why not?CITIZEN: Rheumatism… in the shoulder.BURGLAR: Rheumatism? Oh! In ammatory?

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ANDY: (Stares after him, aghast.) Marry Miss Rebosa… tonight? (Frantically, he runs after MISS REBOSA.) Miss Rebosa! Miss Rebosa! Wait! (Disappears OFF LEFT a moment, then returns, pulling a reluctant MISS REBOSA with him.) Miss Rebosa! I understand you are to be married tonight.

MISS REBOSA: Correct! You got any objections?ANDY: Miss Rebosa, that old dressed-up turkey-gobbler with patent

leather shoes on is my best friend. Why did you go and get him invested in this marriage business?

MISS REBOSA: Why, he was the only chance there was!ANDY: Miss Rebosa, with your good looks, you might pick any kind

of man. Old Mack ain’t the man you want. He was 22 when you was born! This bursting into sudden bloom won’t last with him. He’s all ventilated with oldness… and decay! He’s down with a severe case of Indian summer. Are you really bent on having this marriage occur?

MISS REBOSA: Why, sure I am, and so is somebody else, I reckon.ANDY: What time is it to take place?MISS REBOSA: At six o’clock at my house.ANDY: (Aside.) I’ve got to save old Mack, if I can. To have a good,

seasoned, ineligible man like him turn chicken for a girl is more than I can look on with easiness. I will draw upon my display of knowledge concerning the fem-i-nine intuitions of reason. (To MISS REBOSA.) Miss Rebosa, ain’t there some nice young man in this town that you think a heap of?

MISS REBOSA: Why, sure there is! What do you think? Gracious!ANDY: And does he like you?MISS REBOSA: He’s crazy about me! Ma has to wet down the front

steps to keep him from sitting there all the time. But I guess that’ll be all over after tonight.

ANDY: Then you don’t really experience any of this adoration called love for old Mack, do you?

MISS REBOSA: Why, no! I think he’s as dry as a lava bed! The idea!

ANDY: Ah! Then who is this young man that you like?MISS REBOSA: Eddie Bayles. He clerks in Crosby’s grocery, but he

don’t make but thirty- ve dollars a month.ANDY: (Thinks a moment.) Listen, if Eddie Bayles had a thousand

dollars in cash that could buy him a whole store of his own, would you consent to marry him at ve o’clock tonight?

CITIZEN: Was. The in ammation has gone down now.BURGLAR: Oh. (Suddenly winces in pain.) Ah-h!CITIZEN: (Irritable.) Don’t stand there making faces! If you’ve come

to burgle, why don’t you get on with it? There’s some stuff lying around the room.

BURGLAR: (Grins, sheepish.) It just socked me one. It’s good for you that rheumatism and me happens to be old pals. I got it in my left arm, too. Most anybody but me would have popped you when you couldn’t hoist that left claw of yours.

CITIZEN: How long have you had it?BURGLAR: Four years. And that ain’t all. Once you’ve got it, it’s the

rheumatic life forever.CITIZEN: (Interested.) Ever try rattlesnake oil?BURGLAR: Gallons of it! If all the rattlesnakes I’ve used the oil of was

strung out in a row, they’d reach eight times as far as Saturn, and the rattles could be heard in Valparaiso, Indiana, and back again!

CITIZEN: How about Chiselum’s pills?BURGLAR: Fudge! I took ’em for ve months. No good! I had some

relief the year I tried Finkelham’s Extract, Balm of Gilead Poultices and Pott’s Pain Pulverizer, but I think it was the lucky buckeye I carried in my pocket what done the trick.

CITIZEN: Is yours worse in the morning or at night?BURGLAR: Night, just when I’m busiest. Say, take down that arm

of yours. I guess you won’t make trouble. (Sits in chair and puts the pistol in his belt.) Say! Did you ever try Blickerstaff’s Blood Builder?

CITIZEN: No, I never did. Does yours come in paroxysms, or is it a steady pain?

BURGLAR: It jumps. Strikes me when I ain’t looking for it. I had to give up second-story work because I got stuck sometimes halfway up. Tell you what, I don’t believe the bloomin’ doctors know what is good for it!

CITIZEN: Same here. I’ve spent a thousand dollars without getting any relief. Yours swell any?

BURGLAR: Mornings, and when it’s goin’ to rain, great Christopher!CITIZEN: Me, too. I can tell when a streak of humidity the size of

a tablecloth starts from Florida on its way to New York. And if I pass a theatre where there’s a tear-jerker matinee going on, the moisture starts my left arm jumping like a headache!

BURGLAR: I know what you mean. Say, ever try opodeldoc?

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MACK: We did.ANDY: And didn’t we haul out forty thousand dollars apiece in gold

and decide to spend some of it and enjoy ourselves?MACK: We did.ANDY: And didn’t we nd this elegant two-room house and hire

a Chinese cook that can mess up the atmosphere with the handsomest smell of ham and eggs that ever laid the honeysuckle in the shade?

MACK: We did.ANDY: Riches has brought us happiness, ol’ feller! Ain’t we spent

many a cool, dark evening, lightin’ our pipes and talkin’ about science and pearl diving and sciatica and Egypt and spelling and sh and trade-winds and leather and gratitude and eagles, and a lot of other subjects that we’d never had time to explain our sentiments about before?

MACK: There’s no doubt about it, Andy. We have. We have been self-indulgent and gratifying without vulgar ostentation.

ANDY: Then why are you all dressed up like this and— (MISSREBOSA REED, all dressed up and carrying a parasol, ENTERS RIGHT.)

MACK: (Tips his hat, bows and smiles.) Afternoon, Miss Rebosa!ANDY: (Likewise, tips his hat, bows and smiles.) Afternoon!MISS REBOSA: (Stops, smiles at MACK.) Afternoon, Mr. Lonsbury!

(Glances at ANDY, then moves on.) Humph! (EXITS LEFT.)ANDY: (Disgusted, as MACK looks after her.) Surely you’re not

hankerin’ after women folks at your age! You always told me you’d let all your chances go by.

MACK: Did I say that?ANDY: Yes, you did. And you also asked me once if I was aware

of the habits and policies of women folks, and I told you that I was well aware of fem-i-nine nature. All their little side-steps and discrepancies is as plain to my sight as the Rocky Mountains is to a blue-eyed burro! And I warned you about them. I told you that it takes a man like me, who understands the symptoms and byplays of women, to take care of himself in this world. Now, Mack, you have just passed 40. You better back off from certain disaster while you can.

MACK: (Smiles after MISS REBOSA.) Tonight, I’m going to marry Miss Rebosa. She’s a living angel right here on earth, don’t you think, Andy? (EXITS LEFT into the cabin.)

CITIZEN: Slop! Might as well rub on butter!BURGLAR: I tell you, I nd only one thing that eases her up, and that’s

little old, lest-we-forget booze! Say, this job’s off. Get your clothes on and let’s go out for a drink. (Winces.) Ouch! There she goes again.

CITIZEN: For a week I haven’t been able to dress myself without help.BURGLAR: Get up. I’ll help you into your duds. (Slaps him cordially

on the shoulder.)CITIZEN: (In pain.) Ah-h!BURGLAR: Oh! Sorry!CITIZEN: This is very unusual.BURGLAR: Come on, up you go! (Helps him up, pulling on the left

shoulder.)CITIZEN: Ah-h!BURGLAR: Sorry! Say, I know a man who said that Omberry’s

Ointment xed him up in two weeks so’s he could use both hands tying his tie.

CITIZEN: (Starts out LEFT with BURGLAR.) Omberry’s didn’t do me a lick of good. Oh! Wait! I forgot my money. (Looks on the table.)

BURGLAR: Never mind. (Leads him out.) I’ve got the price. (Pats his pocket.) Say, did you ever try witch hazel and oil of wintergreen?

CITIZEN: (As they go out.) No, I haven’t heard of that. Is it worth trying? (BURGLAR and CITIZEN EXIT LEFT.)

STORYTELLER: As I said before, the third type of burglar has not yet been recognized, or accepted, or, in this case, understood. My uncle didn’t call the police on this one, and he didn’t even try to gure it all out. He just enjoyed the man’s company and the chance to talk about their common af iction. (LIGHTS OUT LEFT. STORYTELLER EXITS. STRIKE armchair, ottoman, table and chair. Front steps of porch are BROUGHT ON CENTER, and a bench LEFT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

CHRIS: You never know how a stranger is going to turn out, do you?LUPE: O. Henry teaches us a lot about passing judgment too quickly

on people. (Looks at LANE.) One of O. Henry’s favorite devices.CHRIS: How ‘bout a charming romance to nish off our little sampler?

“The Count and the Wedding Guest” is a good one.LUPE: You got it, my friend. (Flips pages. LIGHTS DIM RIGHT. SPOT

UP on book.) Picture the front steps of a New York boardinghouse and a little park just across the street, and the landlady, a Mrs. Scott, sweeping the steps and looking for someone to talk to. (LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

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LANE: (Hesitates.) What’s it about?LUPE: (Continues to hold out book.) It’ll take you on a voyage to

the lazy little town of Piña (“Peen-ya.”), Colorado, about thirty miles out from Denver, where you’ll discover how friendship can sometimes take a very strange turn when romance is concerned. (Shakes book, arm still outstretched.) Come on, my arm’s getting tired…

LANE: (Finally takes book from LUPE.) Oh, all right, all right. Anything to get you to quit lecturing me on the guy!

LUPE: Bravo! You won’t regret it. (LIGHTS DIM RIGHT and a tight SPOT COMES UP on the book as LANE “enters” the world of the book. [See Production Notes.] LIGHTS UP LEFT.) It starts off with Mack, a seasoned prospector who has reached the ripe old age of 40… (MACK, wearing a stiff black suit, white shirt, tie, top hat and patent leather shoes, stands on the porch, looking of cial and important.) …and Andy, a younger prospector… (ANDY, in traveling clothes, ENTERS LEFT, carrying a battered suitcase.)…good friends and partners, solid, loyal and always watching out for each other. (LIGHTS OUT RIGHT.)

“The Ransom of Mack”SETTING: The front porch of a cabin and the street in front of it. There is a rocking chair on the porch.ANDY: (At sight of MACK, he drops the suitcase in surprise.) Mack!

Is that you?MACK: Why, hello, Andy! Glad to see you back from New Mexico!

Things have been happenin’ around here in the two months you’ve been away.

ANDY: I can see that! And a sacrilegious sight you are, too! (Walks around MACK, eyeing his clothes in amazement.) God never made you that way, Mack Lonsbury! Why do you scarify His works with this presumptuous kind of ribaldry?

MACK: Why, Andy, the town of Piña has elected me justice of the peace.

ANDY: I can’t believe my eyes! When I left, you were shabby and comfortable, sitting in your rocking chair with your feet propped up, reading Buckle’s “History of Civilization.” You were the picture of contentment.

MACK: (Calm.) I am still content, Andy.ANDY: But Mack, didn’t we work hard together for three years at the

Little Hide-and-Seek Mine?

“The Count and the Wedding Guest”SETTING: The front steps of a New York boardinghouse and a park bench at LEFT.LIGHTS UP LEFT: MRS. SCOTT is sweeping the steps.MRS. SCOTT: (Sweeps.) Several weeks ago, in my boardinghouse

here, I introduced a new boarder, Miss Conway, to my longtime boarder, Mr. Donovan. At that time Miss Conway wore a plain, stuffy brown dress and politely nodded at Mr. Donovan, who bowed and politely erased her from his consideration. Then, one evening, what did I see, as Mr. Donovan was enjoying the evening air right here on my front steps? (DONOVAN ENTERS LEFT and sits on steps.) Miss Conway appeared (MISS CONWAY ENTERS RIGHT.), wearing a night-black dress and a black hat with a black veil as lmy as a spider’s web! Not a speck of white or a spot of color about her anywhere! All in black, and a faraway look in her eyes, as if her young life had been blighted forever. Mr. Donovan turned his head… and had his head turned! (EXITS RIGHT, looking back at the two with a sly glance.)

DONOVAN: (Jumps up with a bow and a smile.) It’s a ne, clear evening, Miss Conway. Won’t you sit down?

MISS CONWAY: (Languid, sighs.) No, thank you, Mr. Donovan. It is a ne, clear evening only to them that has the heart to enjoy it.

DONOVAN: I’m so sorry. I hope you haven’t sustained… a loss?MISS CONWAY: Death has claimed one who… who… oh, but I will

not intrude my grief upon you, Mr. Donovan.DONOVAN: Intrude? Why, Miss Conway, I’d be delighted—that is, I’d

be sorry—I mean, I’m sure nobody could sympathize with you any truer than I could.

MISS CONWAY: (Gives a sad little laugh.) I have no friends or acquaintances in this city, but you have been kind to me. Still, I would not burden you with my troubles.

DONOVAN: It’s tough to be alone in New York, that’s a cinch! But say, whenever this little old town does loosen up and get friendly, it goes the limit! If you took a little stroll in the park with me, Miss Conway, don’t you think it might chase away some of your mullygrubs?

MISS CONWAY: (Demure.) Thanks, Mr. Donovan, I’d be pleased to accept your escort, if you think the company of one whose heart is lled with gloom could be anyways agreeable.

DONOVAN: I’d be delighted, Miss Conway. (Offers her his arm and they stroll slowly LEFT to the park bench and sit down.)

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CHRIS: (To LANE.) Oh, Lupe’s on a roll now… just you wait!LUPE: (Continues.) He was released from prison after three years,

and he moved to New York City… which he always referred to as “Baghdad on the Subway.” It was a real cultural awakening for him. He took the characters and places and that New York local color and he used them to avor his stories. And people loved it. They just ate it up.

CHRIS: Yeah, New York really opened him up in terms of his work. He just had this explosion of creative activity. But health-wise, he really suffered there, and after less than ten years, he died.

LUPE: June 5, 1910.LANE: So he hadn’t even turned 48.CHRIS: Look who’s the math whiz!LANE: It’s a skill.LUPE: Mmmm. Kinda like remembering biographical facts.LANE: Mmmm. (Rolls his eyes at LUPE.)CHRIS: Think what he could have done if only he had lived longer!LUPE: But even in this really short lifespan, he created a huge body

of work. I mean, he left just a treasure trove of stories. He wrote about the common man and woman—cowboys and prospectors, shop girls and struggling artists, cashiers and waitresses, bums and cab drivers, parents and neighbors and young lovers and old folks.

CHRIS: He had a lot of sympathy for those people.LUPE: He really did, and I think that’s one of the beauties of his work,

because he wrote truly about how life was lived by real people in the early twentieth century. That’s what made him so popular at the time, and it’s also what makes his work still so popular now, both because he captured the spirit of the times—and people still are interested in that—and because he captured human nature.

LANE: (Still skeptical.) I still don’t know what could be so “jookalorum” about a few short stories.

LUPE: Oh, you’re gonna love these. (Flips through book.) Let’s see, what would be a good one to start with… I think you should try one from his “Heart of the West” collection. He really captures the West, the way the people talk, the setting… they’re all good, but I like his humorous side, especially when he deals with the gentle art of romance. (Stops ipping pages, looks at book, satis ed and then holds out book to LANE.) Here, try this one. (LANE hesitates, dubious.) Oh, come on, this is a really great story. It’s called “The Ransom of Mack.”

MISS CONWAY: (Sighs.) He was my ancé. We were going to be married next spring. He was a real Count and had a castle in Italy. Count Fernando Mazzini was his name, and I never saw the beat of him for elegance. Papa objected, of course, and once we tried to elope, but Papa overtook us and brought us back to Poughkeepsie. I thought sure Papa and Fernando would ght a duel, but nally, Papa came ‘round and said we might be married. Then Fernando went back to Italy to get the castle xed up for us. Papa’s very proud, and when Fernando wanted to give me several thousand dollars for my trousseau, he called him down something awful. He wouldn’t even let me take a ring or any presents from him. And when Fernando sailed, I came to the city and got a position as cashier in a candy store and took a room in Mrs. Scott’s boardinghouse. (Pauses to snif e.)

DONOVAN: I’m sure glad you came to Mrs. Scott’s, Miss Conway. It’s a ne place to live, and I never would have met you if you hadn’t!

MISS CONWAY: Three days ago I got a letter from Italy, saying that… that Fernando had been killed… in a gondola accident! (Sobs into her black handkerchief.) That’s why I’m in mourning, Mr. Donovan. My heart will remain forever in Fernando’s grave.

DONOVAN: (Gentle.) I’m awful sorry, Miss Conway. And don’t say you have no friends in this city. I’m awful sorry, and I want you to believe I’m your friend, and that I’m awful sorry.

MISS CONWAY: Thank you. I’ve got his picture here in my locket. I never showed it to anybody, but I’ll let you see it, Mr. Donovan, because I believe you to be a true friend. (Takes locket from her purse, opens it and shows it to him.)

DONOVAN: (Looks at the photo, startled.) This is Count Fernando Mazzini?

MISS CONWAY: Yes. Count Fernando Mazzini… that was. (Sobs.)DONOVAN: Well, he appears to be a strong, cheerful man who must

have been a leader among his fellows.MISS CONWAY: He gave me his picture before he left for Italy. It’s

all I have to remind me of him… but he will always be in my heart. (Puts locket away.)

DONOVAN: A ne looking man! (Pause.) Say, how would it suit you, Miss Conway, to give me the pleasure of your company to Coney Island next Sunday afternoon? It might be a nice diversion for you.

MISS CONWAY: Well… yes, that might be a diversion to my liking, Mr. Donovan. (DONOVAN stands, offers her his arm, and they stroll OFF LEFT.)

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CHRIS: Some say he got the name “O. Henry” from hearing his family call the cat. “Oh, Henry! Here, kitty, kitty!”

LANE: Hey, that’s kind of funny.CHRIS: That’s what we’re trying to tell you, O. Henry has a great

sense of humor!LANE: So what’s his real name?LUPE: He was born William Sydney Porter, September 11, 1862,

in Greensboro, North Carolina. His dad was a middle-class, alcoholic doctor, and his mother died of tuberculosis when he was only three. He was raised by an aunt who gave him a rudimentary education and encouraged him to read. Which he did.

LANE: (Dry.) Good for him.LUPE: At age 15, he was apprenticed to a pharmacist and became

one at age 19. When he was 20—LANE: What are you, his biographer? (Returns to magazine.)LUPE: —his doctor didn’t like the sound of his lungs and told him to

move to Texas. So he worked on sheep and cattle ranches for a few years.

CHRIS: That’d be enough to make me look for a desk job.LUPE: Yeah, that’s exactly what he did. He tried his hand as a bank

teller, a sketch artist, a draftsman and also as a humor columnist for “The Houston Post.” Then… bad luck! (LANE raises an eyebrow, but is barely interested.)

CHRIS: I’ll say. He was arrested!LANE: (Without raising his eyes.) O. Henry, the bad boy from Texas.LUPE: Indicted for allegedly embezzling funds from the bank. Tried

and sentenced to ve years… Ohio State Penitentiary!CHRIS: He was pretty embarrassed by the whole thing. He never

stopped saying he was innocent. He was determined to make the best of his situation, though, and while he was in jail, he started writing stories based on his own life experiences.

LUPE: And since he didn’t want to publish them under his real name…

LANE: (Joins in.) …he took on the pseudonym, O. Henry.LUPE: Right.CHRIS: (Pats LANE on the head, in congratulations for catching on.)

You’re a smart duck.LANE: (Sarcastic, glares at CHRIS.) Quack.LUPE: Then… good luck came his way.LANE: The O. Henry biographer continues…

MRS. SCOTT: (ENTERS RIGHT, with her broom.) Well, Miss Conway continued to wear black, but she began to keep company with Mr. Donovan. Then, a month later, she and Mr. Donovan announced their engagement. But a week after the announcement, I saw the two of them sitting on that same park bench across the street. Mr. Donovan had worn a gloomy look all day, and I had never seen him so quiet. It just wasn’t like him to be that way. Something just wasn’t right. (EXITS RIGHT. DONOVAN and MISS CONWAY ENTER LEFT and sit on park bench.)

MISS CONWAY: What’s the matter, Andy? You’re so solemn and gloomy tonight.

DONOVAN: It’s nothing, Maggie.MISS CONWAY: I know better. You never acted this way before. What

is it?DONOVAN: It’s nothing much.MISS CONWAY: Yes, it is! And I want to know! (He says nothing.)

I’ll bet it’s some other girl you’re thinking about! Well, if that’s the case, why don’t you go be with her?

DONOVAN: No, Maggie, it’s not that! There’s no other girl! Honest!MISS CONWAY: Then what is it? Tell me!DONOVAN: All right, I’ll tell you, but I guess you won’t understand.

(Pause.) You’ve heard of Big Mike Sullivan, haven’t you?MISS CONWAY: No, I haven’t, and I don’t want to if he makes you act

like this. Who is he?DONOVAN: (Reverent.) Why, he’s the biggest man in New York! He

can do about anything he wants to in the political line. He’s a mile high and as broad as the East River! You say anything against Big Mike, and you’ll have a million men on your collarbone in about two seconds! (Pause.) Well, Big Mike’s a friend of mine, and he’s as good a friend to a poor man as he is to a rich one. I met him today on the Bowery, and what do you think he does? Comes up and shakes hands with me, so I tells him I’m going to get married in two weeks. Well! “Andy,” he says, “send me an invitation and I’ll come to your wedding!” Oh, Maggie, it would be the proudest day of my life if Big Mike Sullivan came to our wedding! When he goes to a man’s wedding, that man is made for life! That’s why I’m looking sore tonight.

MISS CONWAY: Well, what’s to be sore about? Why don’t you invite him to the wedding?

DONOVAN: (Sad.) There’s a very good reason why I can’t invite him. Don’t ask me what it is… I can’t tell you.

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JOOKALORUM!

LIGHTS UP RIGHT: LUPE, LANE and CHRIS are seated in comfortable reclining lawn chairs at FAR RIGHT, LUPE and CHRIS reading books, LANE reading a magazine. LUPE and CHRIS seem very interested in their books, LANE seems bored. At LEFT, in the darkness, is a front porch setting with a rocking chair.LUPE: (Suddenly, with a cheerful laugh.) Jookalorum!LANE: (Startled.) Jooka—what? What are you talking about?LUPE: It’s an O. Henryism.LANE: O. Henryism?LUPE: O. Henry used it in one of his great stories. It means something

special. Something sensational!LANE: I thought O. Henry was a candy bar.CHRIS: If you’d read more, you’d know that O. Henry was one of the

most popular American short story writers ever.LANE: Read? (Indicates magazine.) This is about as much reading

as I’m up for. Summer’s a time to relax and enjoy, get away…LUPE: I am getting away—into my book!LANE: (Nudges CHRIS, referring to LUPE.) Nerd alert!CHRIS: Don’t knock it until you try it. Lupe and I did our English

project on O. Henry, and we’ve both read a bunch of his stuff since then. Lupe, you should give that book to Lane to read.

LUPE: (Holds book up.) “A Singular Sampling of Sensational Stories by O. Henry.” He wrote more than 500 stories between 1897 and 1910.

CHRIS: Can you imagine writing 500 stories in just 13 years? That really is sensational.

LANE: (Dubious.) I don’t see what could be so sensational about some stuffy old author.

LUPE: Oh, no, he’s not stuffy at all. He’s great. He uses all this verbal trickery and comic invention…

CHRIS: Yeah, and he’s famous for his surprise endings. He’s also known for being quintessentially American. With the possible exception of Mark Twain, I’d say that O. Henry is probably the most typically American short story writer. (LUPE agrees.)

LANE: Why the name O. Henry?LUPE: A pseudonym.LANE: A what?LUPE: A pseudonym. Pen name.

MISS CONWAY: Oh, it’s something about politics, I suppose. But that’s no reason why you can’t smile at me.

DONOVAN: (Pause.) Maggie, I have to ask you this. It’s taking all my courage to do it, but… do… do you think as much of me… as you did of your… Count Mazzini? I have to know!

MISS CONWAY: (Turns away from him, then suddenly bursts into tears.) Oh, Andy!

DONOVAN: There, there, Maggie. I’m sorry. I guess you still have feelings for him.

MISS CONWAY: Oh, no, no, I don’t! Oh, Andy, I lied to you, and now you’ll never marry me or love me any more!

DONOVAN: What?MISS CONWAY: I’ve got to tell you. I can’t keep it to myself any

longer. There… there never was a Count Fernando Mazzini!DONOVAN: There wasn’t?MISS CONWAY: No. You see, I made him up!DONOVAN: Made him up? But why?MAGGIE: Well, I never had a beau in my life. All the other girls had,

and they talked about ’em and it made me so sad and lonesome, I just had to do something! Well, I know I look swell in black. You know I do! So one day I went out to a photograph store and bought that little picture for my locket. It was such a handsome picture, and then I made up that story about the Count and about his being killed, so I could wear black and look swell and nd myself a man! (Sobs.) Oh, nobody can love a liar, and I’ll die for shame! But there never was anybody I liked as much as you. Never anybody I come to love but you! (He looks at her in astonishment.) Oh, Andy, can you ever forgive me?

DONOVAN: (With a big smile of relief, takes her into his arms.) Why, sure, Maggie, darlin’, it’s all right. You’ve straightened everything out for me just ne. I was sure hoping you would before the wedding day.

MISS CONWAY: Are you sure you forgive me?DONOVAN: I’m sure! And now I’ll invite Big Mike to the wedding.MISS CONWAY: I’ll be glad to meet him now. But, Andy, did… did you

really believe my story about the Count?DONOVAN: Well, no, not to any large extent, because you see,

Maggie, darlin’, that was Big Mike Sullivan’s picture you had in your locket! (LIGHTS OUT LEFT. MISS CONWAY and DONOVAN EXIT. LIGHTS UP RIGHT.)

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SETTINGThis play is a blending of narrations and dramatized stories, with the narrators at FAR RIGHT, observing the scenes as they are played out at LEFT and CENTER. The stage is set up with simple area staging: the narrators’ area FAR RIGHT is set up as a poolside, with three reclining lawn chairs and whatever other optional props you may wish to use to add to the effect, such as a sun umbrella, small tables for drinks, towels, bottles of sunscreen and so on. The storytelling area at LEFT and CENTER will change for each story, with simple props brought on to indicate each scene. The narration sequences take place on a lazy summer afternoon in the present day. The stories unfold in O. Henry’s day, in the early twentieth century.

CHRIS: (Laughs.) Now that’s what I call a bizarre love triangle!LUPE: (Snaps book shut.) And there you are! Nine sensational

stories by O. Henry.LANE: (To himself.) I just spent an entire day sandwiched between

two O. Henry nuts.LUPE: (Looks at watch.) An entire day? Yikes, you’re right, it’s late.CHRIS: It’s easy to lose track of time when you’re wrapped up in a

good read.LUPE: No kidding. (To LANE.) Well, we O. Henry nuts have to get

going now, so we’ll get out of your hair and let you get back to your beauty sleep. (LUPE and CHRIS collect their things.)

CHRIS: We’ll see you around! (They EXIT RIGHT, leaving the book behind.)

LANE: (Lies back to relax. A few moments after they’re OUT, he looks furtively to make sure they’re gone, then picks up the book and ips through the pages. TAL ENTERS RIGHT with towel and sits on lawn chair next to LANE. Talks softly to him/herself.)Jookalorum… Jookalorum…

TAL: Excuse me, did you say something?LANE: Jookalorum!TAL: Huh?LANE: An O. Henryism.TAL: O. Henryism? What’s that? (LIGHTS SLOWLY begin to FADE

OUT.)LANE: O. Henry used it in one of his great stories. It means

“Something special. Something sensational.”TAL: (Interested.) Oh?LANE: Like this book I’m reading… (BLACKOUT.)

END OF PLAY

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Mammon and the ArcherANTONIA ROCKWALL .............. peppery, wealthy widow 16RICHARD ROCKWALL ............. her son 12ROSIE KELLY ........................... her Irish housekeeper 11ELLEN ....................................... her sentimental sister 7MISS LANTRY ........................... object of Richard’s affections 3TIM KELLY ................................ gardener, Rosie’s brother 6

The Last LeafSUE ........................................... young artist 25JOHNSY .................................... young artist, very ill (female) 13DOCTOR ................................... busy with house-calls 4MR. BEHRMAN ......................... old artist 8

Transients in ArcadiaMISS BEAUMONT .................... cosmopolitan hotel guest 15MISS FARRINGTON ................. another 15

Makes the Whole World KinSTORYTELLER ......................... citizen’s niece or nephew 2BURGLAR ................................. de es classi cation 18CITIZEN..................................... rheumatoid 18

The Count and the Wedding GuestMISS MAGGIE CONWAY .......... young lady in “mourning” 23ANDY DONOVAN ...................... young man 24MRS. SCOTT ............................ landlady and storyteller 2

PRODUCTION NOTESPROPERTIES

ONSTAGE, Opening Sequence: Three lawn chairs, optional poolside accessories such as a

shade umbrella, small tables, sunscreen and drinksBROUGHT ON, Opening Sequence: Books (LUPE and CHRIS) Magazine (LANE)ONSTAGE, “The Ransom of Mack”: Porch steps, rocking chairBROUGHT ON, “The Ransom of Mack”: Suitcase (ANDY) Parasol (MISS REBOSA) Large history book (MACK)ONSTAGE, “Hearts and Hands”: Four benchesBROUGHT ON, “Hearts and Hands”: Handcuffs (EASTON)ONSTAGE, “Pimienta Pancakes”: Small table, wild owers, counter and chairBROUGHT ON, “Pimienta Pancakes”: Pistol, tin pan (JUD) Open fruit can, big spoon, gun, letter (AUNT EMILY) Hat (JACKSON)ONSTAGE, “Whirligig of Life” Tall desk, stool, rocking chair, benchBROUGHT ON, “Whirligig of Life” Big book, hat, paper and pen, gavel, Bible (BENAJA) Five-dollar bill, cardboard cutout bush, hat, bandana, ri e

(RANSIE)ONSTAGE, “Mammon and the Archer” Table and three chairs, benchBROUGHT ON, “Mammon and the Archer” Ledger book, checkbook or two checks (ANTONIA) Pen, ink bottle (ROSIE) Needlework, ring box with ring (ELLEN) Hat (TIM)ONSTAGE, “The Last Leaf”: Bed, table, chair, stool, easel with blank canvasBROUGHT ON, “The Last Leaf”: Handkerchief (SUE)ONSTAGE, “Transients in Arcadia”: Dining table, two chairs, two wine glassesBROUGHT ON, “Transients in Arcadia”: Purse, dollar bill (MISS BEAUMONT)

43ii

JOOKALORUM!A Singular Sampling of Sensational Stories by O. Henry

Dramatized by Joellen K. Bland

CAST OF CHARACTERS# of lines

NarratorsLUPE ......................................... O. Henry expert 56LANE ......................................... skeptic 44CHRIS ....................................... O. Henry fan 42TAL ............................................ pool-goer 4

The Ransom of MackMACK LONSBURY ................... prospector, age 40 14ANDY ......................................... younger prospector 26MISS REBOSA REED ............... young lady, age 19 11

Hearts and HandsMISS FAIRCHILD ...................... pretty young lady, elegantly 16

dressedMR. EASTON ............................ handsome young man, 9

well dressedOTHER MAN ............................. rough-looking, rumpled, shabby 5PASSENGER ............................ sharp-eyed woman 4

The Pimienta PancakesCOWBOY .................................. injured cattle hand 4JUD ODOM ............................... cattle camp cook 22AUNT EMILY TELFAIR .............. storekeeper 9JACKSON BIRD ........................ sheep rancher (known as a 9

“snoozer”)MISS WILLELLA LEARIGHT ..... Aunt Emily’s young niece 1

The Whirligig of LifeSTORYTELLER ......................... man or woman 5BENAJA WIDDUP ..................... justice of the peace 10RANSIE BILBRO ....................... young mountain man 16ARIELA BILBRO ........................ his young wife 13

ONSTAGE, “Makes the Whole World Kin”: Armchair, ottoman, straight chair, table with crumpled roll of bills,

watch, keys, three poker chips, pink silk hair bowBROUGHT ON, “Makes the Whole World Kin”: Pistol (BURGLAR)ONSTAGE, “The Count and the Wedding Guest” Porch steps, benchBROUGHT ON, “The Count and the Wedding Guest” Broom (MRS. SCOTT) Black handkerchief, purse, locket (MISS CONWAY)BROUGHT ON, Closing sequence: Towel (TAL)

COSTUMESThe narrators (LUPE, LANE, CHRIS and TAL) wear contemporary poolside attire: shorts, t-shirts, sunhats, beach sandals, etc. For a comic touch, zinc oxide on LUPE’S nose would be amusing. In general, basic period attire (early 20th century) is appropriate for all the story characters: long, full skirts, perhaps with bustles, and high-necked, long-sleeved blouses for the women; slim trousers, long-sleeved buttoned shirts and long jackets for the men. Special costume requirements for the stories are as follows:“The Ransom of Mack”: MACK wears a stiff black suit, white shirt, tie,

top hat, and patent leather shoes. In his second appearance he wears comfortable old clothes and perhaps slippers. ANDY wears “traveling clothes,” i.e., not fancy. MISS REBOSA is all dressed up and wears a fancy hat, perhaps with large pansies on it.

“Pimienta Pancakes”: Cowboy attire for JUD and the COWBOY, and somewhat dandier cowboy attire for JACKSON. AUNT EMILY wears an apron. WIILLELLA is fancied up.

“Whirligig of Life”: RANSIE and ARIELA are obviously impoverished rural folk and may be somewhat tattered; ARIELA is barefoot.

“Mammon and the Archer”: ROSIE wears a maid’s out t with long dress and white apron.

“Makes the Whole World Kin”: BURGLAR wears a green sweater.“The Count and the Wedding Guest”: MISS CONWAY wears a black

dress and a black hat with a black veil.

SCENE TRANSITIONSWhenever a new story begins, the dramatic aim is to show that LANE is “entering” the world of the book. This can be achieved in a very basic way by simply having a tight spot come up on the book. If you have at your disposal more resources and wish to create a more dramatic

A Singular Sampling of Sensational Stories by O. Henry

Dramatized by Joellen K. Bland

© Copyright 2004, Pioneer Drama Service, Inc.

Performance LicenseThe amateur and professional acting rights to this play are controlled by Pioneer Drama Service, Inc., PO Box 4267, Englewood, Colorado 80155, without whose permission no performance, reading or presentation of any kind may be given.

On all programs and advertising this notice must appear:1. The full name of the play2. The full name of the playwright3. The following credit line: “Produced by special arrangement

with Pioneer Drama Service, Inc., Englewood, Colorado.”

COPYING OR REPRODUCING ALL OR ANY PART OF THIS BOOK IN ANY MANNER IS STRICTLY FORBIDDEN BY LAW.All other rights in this play, including those of professional production, radio broadcasting and motion picture rights, are controlled by Pioneer Drama Service, Inc. to whom all inquiries should be addressed.

44

effect, you may wish to use additional techniques, such as blue dreamy lights, fog or a recurring sound effect. One idea is to play a recording of voices reading snatches of O. Henry stories, perhaps over a selection of period-appropriate music. Another idea might be to have characters from the story—or even some sort of costumed “book fairy”—take the book from LANE or LUPE upon entering, bring it into the scene and then return it to him/her when the story is over. Whether you go for artsy or nuts and bolts, the idea is to transport the audience into the world of the book, as all readers are when absorbed in a good read.

FLEXIBLE CASTINGThe narrators—with the exception of TAL—are onstage continuously and therefore cannot double parts. All other characters are only in one scene, so actors can play multiple parts, if desired. The minimum number of actors needed is three males and three females plus three additional actors of either sex for the narrators (TAL can be doubled with story characters.) There are a maximum of 38 parts available: 15 male, 11 female and 12 that can be played by either sex.Some of the male characters in the original stories have been dramatized here as female characters in order to accommodate the majority of theatre groups which have more actresses than actors.The following characters can be played as either male or female: Narrators LUPE LANE CHRIS TAL“Hearts and Hands” PASSENGER“The Pimienta Pancakes” AUNT EMILY (originally UNCLE EMSLEY)“The Whirligig of Life” STORYTELLER“Mammon and the Archer”: ANTONIA ROCKWALL (originally ANTHONY)“The Last Leaf” DOCTOR“Transients in Arcadia” MISS FARRINGTON (originally HAROLD FARRINGTON/

JAMES McMANUS)“Makes the Whole World Kin” STORYTELLER“The Count and the Wedding Guest” MRS. SCOTT