Writing for Vaudeville Part 82

VIOLA: Mrs. Wilson sometimes looks as if she stays up all night.

(All girls laugh.)

VIOLA: If she only knew that the old plantation is mortgaged up to the roof, I guess she wouldn't be so anxious about marrying father.

VIOLA: (To CHLORINDA.) Well, Chlorinda, what brings you out here?

CHLORINDA: I jes' came out to say dat refreshments am ready in de house if de young ladies am thirsty or hungry.

(CHORUS by ladies of company, then they exit into house. VIOLA remains on stage.)

(CHARLIE DOOLITTLE enters from R. and stealing up softly behind VIOLA, puts his hands over her eyes.)

CHARLIE: Guess who it is?

VIOLA: Is it a human being?

CHARLIE: (Effeminately.) Why, I like that! Of course, it is.

VIOLA: It's Lottie.

CHARLIE: No.

VIOLA: Then it's f.a.n.n.y.

CHARLIE: No.

VIOLA: Then it must be Lillie.

CHARLIE: No; you silly goose, it's Charlie.

VIOLA: (In disgust.) I thought you said it was a human being?

CHARLIE: Just for that you must sit down on the bench and give me a kiss.

VIOLA: Wait a minute till I go into the house and get a veil. The sunlight hurts my eyes. (She exits at L.)

CHARLIE: (Moving towards R.) That will just give me time to go into the grove and smoke a cigarette. (Exits.)

(Enter CHLORINDA from house. She has a green veil on, which hides her face; she sits down on bench.)

CHLORINDA: Ebery wench on dis plantation has got a fellah 'ceptin me, so I went to a fortune tellah an' she said Ah should sit on dis heah bench ebery day and ah nice fellah would come along.

Well, I'se been doing it now for ovah a month an' Ah habent seen no nice fellah yet; in fact, Ah habent seen a fellah of any kind.

(Enter CHARLIE from R.)

CHARLIE: Ah, there, my sugar plum.

CHLORINDA: Ain't he jes' too sweet for anything?

CHARLIE: So you love your baby?

CHLORINDA: 'Deed I do, honey.

CHARLIE: Then lay your beautiful head on my manly breast and let me pour sweet words of love into your ear.

CHLORINDA: Go to it, kiddo. (Business of CHARLIE petting CHLORINDA.)

CHARLIE: And now, ain't you going to, give me a nice, sweet kiss, darling?

CHLORINDA: Help yourself to as many as you want.

(CHLORINDA lifts veil just enough to let CHARLIE touch her lips.

He does not, however, notice that she is colored, and is busily engaged hugging and kissing her, as VIOLA enters from house; she is very much surprised.)

VIOLA: Charlie Doolittle, what does this mean? (CHLORINDA raises her veil, then laughs and runs into house.)

CHARLIE: (Discovering his error.) Why, my dear, it's all a mistake; I thought--that is to say--er--

VIOLA: I'm not surprised at your embarra.s.sment. The idea of making love to our colored cook the minute my back is turned.

CHARLIE: If you'll just let me explain--

VIOLA: Explain nothing. I'm going to tell my father how you've insulted me. He doesn't like you, anyhow, and if he ever catches you on the premises, your life won't be worth 23 cents in Confederate money. (VIOLA exits into house.)

CHARLIE: Ain't she the exasperating creature! I declare, she's made me so peevish, I could crush a grape. The idea of telling me her father doesn't like me. Why shouldn't he like me? (ARTHUR MAYNARD appears in back-ground unnoticed by CHARLIE.) But, anyhow, I'm not afraid of her father. Why, if he were to stand before me right at this moment, I'd--

MAYNARD: (Stepping suddenly to the front.) Well, what would you do?

CHARLIE: I'd run like the devil. (Runs off stage at R.)

MAYNARD: I'm going to keep that disgusting fellow off the premises if I have to notify the dog-catcher. (Notices pedestal.) Ever since a tornado knocked that statue off its pedestal, this garden has looked rather bare, so I've put an advertis.e.m.e.nt into the newspaper, offering five hundred dollars for a suitable statue to take its place.

(Mrs. Wilson enters from R. and coughs gently to attract MR.

MAYNARD'S attention.)

MAYNARD: (Turning around.) Why, Mrs. Wilson!

MRS. WILSON: Good morning, Mr. Maynard!

(Both talking at the same time.) This is indeed a surprise. I did not expect to see you as early as this. How are you feeling?

Good? That's good. Lovely day, isn't it?

MAYNARD: I have often wanted to ask you, Mrs. Wilson, where is your husband?

MRS. WILSON: I don't know.

MAYNARD: What's that, you don't know where your husband is?