Writing for Vaudeville Part 54

(THE FELLOW and THE GIRL spring apart, guiltily.)

THE FELLOW: (Bitterly.) Just when I had it all cinched. (THE GIRL runs to the bench, picks up her parasol, still laughing.)

THE GIRL: It's the wagon from the railroad station, with my clothes from town. Good-bye. (She starts off, Right.)

THE FELLOW: But you're coming back again?

THE GIRL: Well--maybe--perhaps--If you're good. (She exits laughing.)

THE FELLOW: She's got me going. My head's in a muddle, and I feel like a sailor full of horn-pipes. And that reminds me of Tommy Higgins' latest song. It goes like this: (Here is introduced comic song. At finish THE GIRL comes running on from Right, dressed in a pretty summer dress, and carrying another pretty silk parasol.

THE FELLOW takes his hat off and holding it high over his head, exclaims:) Here comes the rainbow after the shower!

THE GIRL: I must explain to you--I saw Genevieve--the cigarettes belong to her brother, Jack.

THE FELLOW: And I've just found out what belongs to me.

THE GIRL: What?

THE FELLOW: You! (He takes her parasol, opens it, and holds it in front of them for an instant so that their faces are hidden from audience. This is music cue for the Conversation Number which brings the sketch to a finish.)

THE VILLAIN STILL PURSUED HER

A TRAVESTY

By Arthur Denvir Author of "Busy Isabel," "How Ignatius Got Pneumonia," "When Wit Won," "The War Correspondent," Etc., Etc.

THE VILLAIN STILL PURSUED HER

CHARACTERS

GLADYS DRESSUITCASE . . . . . A Deserted Wife ALPHONSO DRESSUITCASE . . . . Her Dying Che-ild MOE REISS DRESSUITCASE. . . . Her Fugitive Husband BIRDIE BEDSLATZ . . . . . . . Her Doll-faced Rival ALGERNON O'FLAHERTY . . . . . The Villain Who Pursued Her

SCENE OF PROLOGUE

STREET IN ONE. . . LIGHTS OUT

Music: "Mendelssohn's Spring Song," Played in discords. Spot Light on L. I.

PROLOGUE

Enter GLADYS wearing linen duster and dragging a big rope to which is attached a case of beer with about eight empty bottles in it.

She stops C.

GLADYS: (Tearfully.) At last I am almost home. Eleven miles walk from the sweat shop here, and that's some hoofing it, believe me.

(Sways.) Oh, I am faint (Looks over shoulder at beer case.), faint for the want of my Coca-Cola. (Enter ALGERNON R. I--wears slouch hat, heavy moustache, red s.h.i.+rt and high boots. She is facing L.) Oh, I have a hunch I'm being shadowed--flagged by a track-walker!

But I mustn't think of that. (Starts to drag case L.) I must get home to my dying child. He needs me--he needs me. (Exits L. I.)

ALGERNON: (Goes L. C. and looks after her.) It is Gladys--found at last! (Enter BIRDIE L. I. She is in bright red with white plumes and is a beautiful, radiant adventuress. )

BIRDIE: Did you get a good look at her?

ALGERNON: Yes--it's Gladys and she's down and out--(Both together:) Curse her!

ALGERNON: Now I can begin pursuing her again.

BIRDIE: Yes, and I can gloat over her misery--and gloating's the best thing I do.

ALGERNON: Come (fiercely!) We are wasting time.

BIRDIE: She'll never know me with this dark hair and no make-up on.

ALGERNON: (At L. I--still more fiercely.) Can that junk! Come!

(Exits L. I.)

BIRDIE: (Going to L. I.) He has me in his power. I must follow him. Curse him! (Exits after ALGERNON. Enter MOE REISS in b.u.m evening-clothes and opera hat. Carries cane.)

MOE REISS: (Reading from back of envelope.) Down this street and turn into the alley full of ash cans! I'm on the right track at last. Once more I shall see my wife and my little boy! Of course, she'll be sore because I ran away and deserted her, leaving her no alimony except the dying che-ild. But I must produce a real wife and child from somewhere or I'll lose the $9.75 my uncle left me. (Goes L. musingly.) Why do I love money so? Ay, that's the question. (Looking up at gallery.) And what's the answer? (Points off L. with cane--dramatically.) We shall see--we shall see. (Dashes off L.)

The lights go out, and the Drop in One takes all the time that the clock strikes sixteen or seventeen to go up, so it is timed very slowly.

FULL STAGE SCENE

THE WRETCHED HOME OF GLADYS

A Mott Street Garret--everything of the poorest description. Old table down stage R., with chair on either side and waste paper basket in front. Cot bed down stage L. Old cupboard up stage C.

Small stand at head of cot.

PHONSIE lies in cot, head up stage, covered up. He should weigh over two hundred pounds. He wears Buster Brown wig and nightie that b.u.t.tons up the back. GLADYS is seated at table d. s. R., sewing on a tiny handkerchief. She is magnificently dressed and wears all the jewelry she can carry. Pile of handkerchiefs at back of table within reach and a waste basket in front of table where she can throw handkerchiefs when used.

As curtain rises, the clock off stage slowly strikes for the sixteenth or seventeenth time.

GLADYS: Five o'clock and my sewing still unfinished. Oh, it must be done to-night. There's the rent--six dollars. To-day is Friday--bargain day--I wonder if the landlord would take four ninety-eight.

(Business. PHONSIE snores.) And my child needs more medicine.

The dog biscuits haven't helped him a bit, and his stomach is too weak to digest the skin foods. (Wood crash off stage.) How restless he is, poor little tot!!!! Fatherless and deserted, sick and emaciated--eight years have I pa.s.sed in this wretched place, hopeless, hapless, hipless. At times the struggle seems more than I can bear, but I must be brave for my child, my little one. (Buries face in hands.) (Business. Sews.)

PHONSIE: (Business.) Mommer! Mommer! Are you there? (Blows pea blower at her.)

GLADYS: (Hand to cheek where he hit her.) Yes, dolling, mommer is here.

PHONSIE: Say, mommer, am I dying? (Loud and toughly.)

GLADYS: (Sadly.) I am afraid _not_, my treasure.

PHONSIE: Why not, mommer?