Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald (Illustrated) (471 page)

BOOK: Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald (Illustrated)
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HULDA: Mr. Dickie.

 

S. S. S.: Where’s the young fellow’s room?

 

HULDA: Head of stairs on the left.

 

S. S. S.: I’ll remember.

 

HULDA: And for the love of Christina! be careful! The house is full — a — people!

 

S. S. S.: It’ll take more than a house full of people to catch Second Story Salle!

 

HULDA: And where do I come in?

 

S. S. S.: You do what I tell you, and keep your mouth tight. And I’ll come here tomorrow morning dressed as a book agent and give you your share.

 

HULDA: All right but be awful careful.

 

(Exit Hulda and S. S. S.)

 

(Enter Will.)

 

WILL: Whoever took that overcoat took it far away. What am I going to do? Oh —

 

(Enter Cecile.)

 

CEC.: Hello.

 

WILL: HOW do you do. Pardon me, madam, permit me to introduce myself.

 

CEC.: Don’t bother, I recognize you.

 

WILL: Oh, you do? Well, you have the advantage of me.

 

CEC.: My name is Ce-ce-cile Wether-b-by.

 

WILL: O yes, no wonder you know me.

 

CEC.: Sir!

 

WILL: YOU ought to, I used to play with you as a child.

 

CEC.: Sir, I admit I was a tomboy but I never entered into any communication with you.

 

WILL: But my dear young lady!

 

CEC.: I am not your dear young lady.

 

WILL: Perhaps I am not as fierce as I look.

 

CEC.: Were I not a lady I would tell you in plain language to go home.

 

WILL: YOU have told me, as far as I can see.

 

CEC.: I don’t see you going.

 

WILL: I want to explain first. I came here quite by accident. I was looking for Miss Spigot.

 

CEC.: Allow me to congratulate you, I expected as much.

 

WILL: YOU remember she is a relation of mine.

 

CEC.: I don’t doubt it.

 

WILL: And I was going to her house when here I am by accident in yours. I can’t get out for my overcoat has disappeared and I am too —

 

CEC.: (
Interrupting
.) Natural for safety.

 

WILL: And the worst of it is that you seem to have forgotten your old playmate Will Chapman.

 

CEC.: Will Chapman?

 

WILL: Surely.

 

CEC.: I had not heard of your demise. Believe me, I am very sorry.

 

WILL: Why, what do you mean? Oh heavens — what — what — you thought — oh Lord — this is too much! Come here and pinch me, I am real flesh and blood.

 

CEC.: Oh, I thought for a minute —

 

WILL: That I was — I know I shouldn’t have worn this costume. It looks like the de —

 

CEC.: Where did you get it?

 

WILL: I wore it to a masquerade ball.

 

CEC.: Oh, I see. But how did you get
here?

 

WILL: I got here by accident and now I can’t get out, for someone took my overcoat.

 

CEC.: Well, listen. You must not be seen by anyone here. A man is here who wants to buy the house, but he won’t if he thinks the house is haunted. You must hide in this closet. (
Goes to closet on lejt and throws open the door.)
In about half an hour, when everyone is asleep, you come upstairs and I will leave an overcoat for you in the front hall.

 

WILL: Thank you, Cecile — I am —

 

CEC.: Now get in there and be quiet!

 

(He goes in closet, she shuts door, turns out lights and exits.)

 

(Enter Josephus with false mustache and goatee in his hand. He is dressed in a devil’s suit like Will’s. He turns up lights.)

 

JO.:
(Looking anxiously behind him.)
That’s funny, I’m all in a tremor. I could have sworn a minute ago that I saw my wife, my Amelia that I left so many years ago. I must have been dreaming. And now to frighten a few people. Te, he, he!

 

(Enter Clara.)

 

CLARA: Uncle Josephus!

 

JO.: What are you doing up at this hour?

 

CLARA: Listen, you must not do this. It is perfectly terrible. Some one might shoot you.

 

JO.: Nonsense, child, I can not afford to pay ten thousand dollars for the house.

 

CLARA: YOU are cheating Mr. Wetherby.

 

JO.: Tut, tut, cheating is a bad word.

 

CLARA: Listen, there is someone coming. Quick, you must hide Look, quick in here.

 

(She opens the other closet and puts him in. She goes out quickly at right. Enter Cecile, from left.)

 

CEC.: It’s rather mean, but I can’t take any chances. I must lock Will in until everyone is asleep. Let’s see, where did I put him? Oh yes, in this closet.
(Goes to closet where Josephus is and locks door. There is pounding on the inside.)
It’s too bad, Will, but I’ve got to do it.

 

(Exit Ceciley turning out lights.)

 

(Enter Second Story Salle at left.)

 

(Enter Dick at right.)

 

DICK: Good evening.

 

S. S. S.: Ah, good evening!

 

DICK: May I ask what you want here?

 

S. S. S.: Certainly — You may ask.

 

DICK: Well, what — er do you want?

 

S. S. S.: Didn’t you get my card?

 

DICK: No.

 

S.S.S.: That’s strange; I told the maid to take it to — Ah, you are Mr. Richard Wetherby, I presume?

 

DICK: Yes.

 

S. S. S.: Well, you’re the one I want to see.

 

DICK: Yes, yes, I see — but why?

 

S. S. S.: Well, you see it’s this way — I’ve heard of you —

 

DICK: NO doubt.

 

S. S. S.: As a playwright.

 

DICK: YOU have? Ah, won’t you have a seat?

 

S. S. S.: (
Taking chair.
)You have probably heard of me —

 

DICK: Yes, yes.

 

S. S. S.: My name is — Minnie Maddern Fiske.

 

DICK: Oh yes yes; have another seat — Have a cigar — I mean er —

 

S. S. S.: No doubt you catch my drift, or shall I snow again?

 

DICK: Ah yes, — that is — er —

 

S. S. S.: As a fellow professional, I took the liberty of dropping in at this unconventional hour —

 

DICK: Don’t mention it.

 

S. S. S.: To see about your er — play — “The Dappled Dawn.”

 

PICK: Ah yes, but it’s in a very primitive state; scarcely more than a title, to tell the truth.

 

S S S.: Never tell the truth; it is a confession of failure, a sign that your imagination is exhausted.

 

DICK: Yes of course. But about the play of mine —

 

S S. S.: I want it. (
Takes ten thousand dollars from Dick’s pocket.)

 

 — (Aside.)
— And I have it!

 

DICK: Mrs. Fiske — May I call you Minnie? — You may have it.

 

S. S. S.: Tomorrow I would like to discuss it with you. We can fix a date for then, not for tonight; we artists have our trials, you know — temperament and —

 

DICK: Hay fever! Yes, yes.

 

S. S. S.:
(Starting to faint — Hand grasping ten thousand dollars behind her.)
Oh, I am going to faint! My head is swimming —

 

Water!

 

DICK:
(As he exits.)
Water for Mrs. Fiske!!
(Exit r.)

 

(S. S. S. sees Will peep out of closet, screams, drops banknotes and jumps out of window.)

 

(Enter Hulda, she picks up money.)

 

HULDA: What’s this?
The
ten thousand dollars. Second Story Salle must have dropped it.
(Exit.)

 

(Enter Dick r. with glass of water.)

 

DICK: Mrs. Fiske! Mrs. Fiske! Why, she’s gone! — But ah! —

 

Mrs. Fiske in “The Dappled Dawn,” by Richard Cartridgebelt Wetherby. Soon I’ll have a wad the size of —
(feels pocket and finds ten thousand dollars gone).
Good Lord, it’s gone.
(Drops glass of water.)
Someone’s taken that ten thousand dollars! What a mess I’m in. I mustn’t let anyone know. I’ll — I’ll search the house.
(Exit in a rush.)

 

(Enter Mr. Wetherby and Mme. Zada, carrying candles.)

 

MR. W.: Sh! The people upstairs mustn’t hear us.

 

MME.: This sort of thing always makes me nervous. I have almost forgotten the formula for confronting spirits. Let’s see.
(Produces book.)
Question — whence do you come? Answer, from the land whence none return. Question — where do you go? Answer — to pace the night alone. Question — what do you wish from me? Answer —

 

JO.:
(In closet.)
Let me out of here.

 

MR. W.: What was that?

 

MME.: What, I didn’t hear anything.

 

MR. W.: I must have been mistaken.

 

MME.: Let me see, where was I? Question — why do you weep? Answer —

 

JO.:
(In closet.)
I am boiling to death.

 

MR. W.: I distinctly heard something then.

 

MME.: Yes, a hollow, muffled voice.

 

MR. W.: It’s the ghost!

 

MME.: Walk around the room and see.

 

MR. W.: Round the room, pshaw, what would I do walking around the room? Spose he cut me open on a new carpet. The idea! You must be crazy. Walk around yourself.

 

MME.: I have a sore foot.
(Knocking is heard.)

 

MR. W.: Go, let him in.

 

MME.: YOU fool, it’s spirit knocking.
(Three knocks.)
Three knocks, that’s D.
(Three more knocks.)
Three more knocks — that’s D again.
(Three more knocks.)
Three D’s — let’s see, d — d — d — what can it mean?

 

MR. W.: Probably he stuttered when he was on earth.

 

MME.: Listen, I will go in your study and wait. You stay here and if anything happens call me.

 

MR. W.: Er, you think we had best separate? The ghost might overpower you.

 

MME.: Are you frightened?

 

MR. W.: No, no.

 

MME.: Well, stay here.
(Exit Madame Z. )

 

MR. W.:
(Sitting down.)
Whew, this is tiresome business.

 

(Enter Clara, silently. She goes to Jose-phus’s closet silently and tries door.)

 

CLARA: Locked! What shall I do? He will have to stay there till morning.

 

(Exit Clara. Mr. W. has fallen asleep. The music starts playing “He’s a Devil.” The door of the left hand closet opens slowly and Will steals softly out. He tips over a chair.)

 

WILL: Dash it!

 

MR. W.: (
Waking up.)
What the devil!

 

WILL
: (Coming forward.)
How do you do, Mr. Wetherby?

 

MR. W.: Oh Lord, oh Heavens, I’ll never curse again! Never as I live, I swear it. Oh sir, go way and leave me.

 

WILL: YOU are a hospitable lot, I must say. When people come to see me I am more hospitable.

 

MR. W.: Yes, I know you are.

 

WILL: Come to my home in the future and see.

 

MR.W.:
(Groaning.)
Never, never.

 

(Mme. Z. has stolen softly in.)

 

MME.: Throw up your hands.

 

WILL: Why?
(Puts up hands.)

 

MR. W.: A pistol does no good — you can’t hurt him with a bullet.

 

MME.: Why, he’s real flesh and blood. He’s no more devil than I am.

 

MR. W.: That doesn’t mean anything.

 

MME.: Pinch him and see.

 

MR. W.: I don’t want to pinch him. Pinch him yourself. Then you are not a devil?

 

WILL: No.

 

MR. W.: Then how dare you come in my house?

 

WILL: Don’t you allow anyone but devils in your house?

 

MME.: Here, hold this pistol pointed at him while I all up the police.

 

(Mr. W. takes pistol.)

 

WILL: The police!

 

MME.:
(Picking up receiver.)
Central, give me the police station, quick. Yes.

 

WILL: The police, oh Lord!
(To Mr. W.)
Sir, since you insist on thinking that I am not human I will prove to you that I am. I can pick up things like this snuffer
(picks snuffer from candlestick)
and use it —

 

(Snuffs out candle, plunging room into darkness. Mr. W. fires pistol. Mme. screams, they search for light. It flashes on, showing Hulda, Cecile and Clara in doorway.)

 

MR. W.: I’ve got him.
(Wrestles with Dickie.)

 

ALL: What’s the matter?

 

MR. W.: There are spirits in here.

 

MME.: Spirits of ammonia — it was a man!

 

CECILE AND CLARA:
(Aside.)
How did he get out?

 

DICK:
(Aside.)
No, I fear it was a woman —
(To others.)
Let’s search for him.

BOOK: Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald (Illustrated)
6.34Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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