ACT I
Time: Ten o'clock on Christmas Eve.
Scene: The mess-tent of Pepper's Perennial Circus, very bare and shabby, with circus litter about; signs, "No Smoking," "Next performance, 2 P.M.," posters, etc., on the tent walls; a rough mess-table of boards and trestles, with boxes, stools, two broken chairs, etc., for seats. Pile of old blankets in one corner. Lantern hangs in center of tent, and another [L.] at entrance to circus tent. [R.], another exit, leading out of doors. Music [if possible] from circus tent, playing last strains of "Home, Sweet Home." Burst of applause from circus tent, the flaps part, and the troupe enters [excepting Pepper, Mike, and the animals], weary and discontented, and drop down anywhere to rest. Hopkins throws himself on pile of blankets [R.], Jack takes a box nearby, Barney sits on table, and Jerry goes to entrance [R.], fanning himself with his hat. Ben takes box [L.], and Dutch enters last, slipping the straps of his peanut-tray from his shoulders and setting it on the end of the table.
Harry [sullenly]. This 'ere's the worst night we've 'ad yet.
Jack. You bet yer life!
Barney. Faix! I've no futs left an me at all, at all!
Tim [rubs his arms]. I'm lame all over. It's me for the liniment bottle!
Jerry. I'm as tired as any of you guys, but I'm a good deal madder than I'm tired.
Jack. I should say.
Harry. 'Ow could we be h'anything but tired and h'angry, I'd like to h'arsk, with such a boss as old Pepper?
Ben. Gen'lemen—Mr. Pepper he su'tinly war pretty bad, dis evenin'—in fac' I may say he war de limit.
Jerry. And no excuse for it, either.
Barney. Was it excuse, ye said?
Dutch. Mishter Pepper he don't vaits for no excuse. You'd t'ink ve vas all der lazy loafers—und der ain'd a lazy bone in der whole boonch.
[Enter Mike, with dog, and leading monkey.
Mike. The sound of yez all is quite familiar. Be ye knockin' the boss again?
Ben. We-all got mighty good reason, Mr. McGinnis.
Harry. 'E's not getting a think but wot 'e's earned for 'isself.
Jack. Work a fellow to skin and bone!
Barney. Wid nary bit o' regard to his iligant muscle, Limber Jack?
Jack. It's true—no joshin', Barney!
Barney. Niver a bit of it, darlin'!
Jerry. It's all work and no rest——
Mike. And niver a dacint worrud, even for the dumb bastes—— [Pats dog and monkey. Dog goes about from one to another expecting pats and caresses, which are absent-mindedly given. Monkey, unobserved, steals peanuts from tray.]
Tim. Nothing but blame, morning, noon, and night!
Dutch. Und ven der vork is ofer, ve don't gets noddings enough to eats—ain'd?
Ben. Gentlemen, I'm 'bliged to admit dat I'm hungry all de day long!
Harry. H'and h'all night, you might say, and no h'exaggeratin'.
Tim. We're all of us half starved.
Jerry [warningly]. Here's the boss, fellows!
[Enter Peter, striding into tent and giving
an angry glance around.
Peter [suspiciously]. What are you all doing here? You, Tim, get a hustle on and put out those lights in the big tent. [Exit Tim, slowly and sullenly.] Mike McGinnis, go put your beasts in their cages—look at that monkey wasting the peanuts! Dutch, you aren't worth your salt—can't you take care of your stuff? [Mike, with an injured air, leads out monkey and whistles dog after him. Dutch, much aggrieved, takes up tray, and moves it to another place.] Jerry Pickle, if you and O'Brien can't ring in something new for your turn, you'll soon be given the hook, and Ben's jokes are all stale enough to crumble. As for you, Hopkins, I consider your riding to-night a flunk, and you and Jack are no acrobats at all—you're just a couple of dubs. The show's always had the name of a first-class show, and it's going to keep up to it, if I've got to throw you all out and get a new lot. So you want to look out—see? [Exit angrily.]
Harry [jumping up]. There's a-goin' to be h'end of this—as sure as my name's 'Arry 'Opkins!
Jerry. Well, I'm with you, for one. We never go into winter quarters for a rest——
Harry. No, for the h'old skinflint goes and brings 'is bloomin' show South——
Jerry. So's he can keep open all year round, and double his profits.
Dutch. Und vat does ve get oud of ut? Yust noddings.
Jerry. I should say not! We're half paid and half fed, and worked double, and I for one have took all I'll stand.
Jack. I'm with you there.
Tim. So'm I, Jerry.
Barney. Bedad, it's in the same box we all are.
Mike. True for you, Barney. We'd all better be quittin'.
Ben. Gen'lemen! dis yere 'lustrous Company a' unanimous. We all 'low dat Mr. Pepper have got to reform. We-all mus' draw up a partition an' prohibit Mr. Pepper for conduc' unbecomin' to a Ringmaster. Gen'lemen, let us take action.
Harry. H'action be blowed! If it's 'ighly satisfactory to h'agitate petitions, or throw up your jobs—w'y, I calls that just nothin' doin'. No h'A-1 h'acrobat is a-goin' to stand bein' told 'e's flunked in his best h'act. I don't till I've pied 'im h'up.
[A murmur of assent, and all draw closer
about him (R. front), speaking with lowered voices.
Barney. That's something like talk, that is!
Mike. I'm wid yez, Harry, me b'y.
Jerry. I'd like to burn his old show over his head.
Tim. Just doctor his wagon-axles a little, and when they break down, we'll take to the woods!
Jack. Much he'll get a new lot.
Ben. No, gen'lemen—I got dat proposition beat——
[Words become inaudible; they draw closer
yet. The canvas (back Center) parts.
Enter Bub and Sonny, very cautiously
and timidly, peering about. They come
forward a little, and pause, looking at group.
Bub. This is sure enough the circus, Sonny. Look at those men.
[The troupe fall apart guiltily, and look with
amazement at the children.
Bub [grips Sonny's hand and comes forward slowly]. Please, mister, is the circus all over?
Ben. Laws, honey, you didn' 'spec' to fin' no circus dis time o' night?
Barney. Sure, an' ut's time we was all tucked into our little beds, an' the same to you, bedad.
Harry. Maybe you'll do us the honor to tell us your names?
Bub [impressively]. My name is Benjamin Franklin Simpson.
Sonny. An' mine is Daniel Webster Simpson.
Mike [pretends to faint]. Oh, would some of yez have the goodness to fan me! [Jack obliges him.]
Jerry. Give us a shorter one! They don't call you that every time you get your orders, I'm sure.
[Enter Pepper, watching unnoticed from
background.
Bub. No; I'm just Bub, and he's Sonny.
Tim. That's more like it.
Jack. Breathe easy, Mike.
Harry. Well, Mr. Benjamin Franklin Bub, will you h'inform us where you 'ails from?
Bub. We live over the mountain, by Pinesburg, an' we wanted to see the circus, so we just ran off and came.
Jerry. Pinesburg—that's ten miles off. How'd you say you come?
Bub. Just walked.
Sonny [rubbing his fists in his eyes]. An' the circus is all over, an' I'm so tired! [Men murmur sympathetically, and the group breaks and re-forms around the boys. Men gather about, some squatting near the boys, others standing behind.]
Barney. Futted it ivery shtep!
Mike. Tired, is it?—yez must be dead!
Harry. Poor kids!
Dutch. Und ve all leafin' der kinder shtandin'. Here—der box seats ain'd all sold yet. [Brings box and seats them kindly.]
Ben [kneeling before them]. Why—dey shoes is all bust out——
Jerry. The poor kids ought to be in bed.
Tim. Did you have any supper?
Jack. When did you say you started?
Bub. Right after dinner, an' we thought we could get here for the show to-night, but, you see, Sonny couldn't walk very fast——
Sonny [sets up a howl, gives Bub a punch that nearly knocks him off the box, and rubs his eyes harder than ever]. I did, too, now, Bub! I walked an' I walked an' I walked, so I did! An' I want my supper, I do, an' I want to go to bed!
Jerry. Hustle off, Dutch, and get the poor kid some grub——
[Exit Dutch in haste.
Barney. Sure an' one of them can bunk with me.
Jack. I'll take the other in my bunk.
Mike. If it's blankets they're wantin' they're welcome to mine.
Ben. Dey's lots ob blankets, gen'lemen! I'll fix 'em a place tergedder as sof' as a fedder-bed!
[Pepper comes forward.
Harry [under his breath]. 'Ere's the h'old h'ogre wot'll scare 'em to death.
Pepper [with unexpected amiability]. That's right, Ben, make 'em up a good bed in the sleeping-tent with the extra blankets. What do you fellows suppose their marm's thinking, about now? [Exit Ben.] You kids, did you say you ran away?
Bub [a little frightened]. Ye-es, sir—we couldn't help it. You see—our folks is strict. They never went to circuses, and they don't let their boys go.
Pepper. Well, has your folks got a telephone?—most farmers've got 'em these days.
Bub and Sonny. Yes, sir——
Pepper [giving Tim money]. Here, Tim, you run out and telephone to—— Simpson, is it?
Bub. Yes, sir,—Jonathan Simpson.
Pepper. And tell him his kids are safe, and we'll take care of 'em all right. [Tim starts out.] And, Tim—— [Follows him and speaks aside.] Fix it up with him to let 'em stay to the afternoon show.
[Pepper lingers with Tim at tent door.
Troupe overcome with surprise.
Barney. Will yez all hark to that!
Harry. I didn't think 'as 'ow 'e 'ad h'it h'in 'im!
Others. No!
[Enter Dutch with thick sandwiches, which
the boys munch eagerly. Pepper comes
forward and watches.
Dutch. So! Das ist besser.
Ben. How'd dat chile's sho't legs ebber do ten mile, anyhow?
Jerry. Pretty sandy, that!
Pepper. What did you boys run away for on Christmas Eve—weren't you afraid of missing your presents and the Christmas Tree?
Bub [between bites]. Presents? We don't get none!
Sonny. I never saw a Christmas Tree. [He grows very sleepy and leans his head against Bub, who keeps moving and letting it slip off while talking with the men.]
Dutch [horrified]. You don't effer hafe no Christmas?
Bub. No. I told you our folks is strict. My dad didn't let us go to the Christmas Tree they had at the Sunday-school, neither.
Pepper. I didn't suppose that kind of strictness was left in the country.
Bub [with conviction]. My dad's that kind of strict.
Ben. Dat po' chile's mos' ersleep now. Come on, honey. Ben'll take you to bed. [Lifts Sonny in his arms.]
Pepper. That's right, Ben. Run on with him, Bub—Ben'll take care of you. [Exit Ben, with children. Enter Tim.] Well, Tim, did you get Simpson?
Tim. Yes, sir, and he says he'll come and fetch the kids in the morning—he won't on no account let them stay to see the show.
[General groan of indignation.
Barney. The like of him ain't fit to live!
Harry [disgusted]. Wot sort of chap do you call that!
Jerry. Can't we do nothin' about it?
Pepper. Sure you did your best, Tim?—you didn't make him mad, maybe?
Tim. Me? No, sir! But he was madder about the kids than he was scared about them, I reckon.
Mike. An' does he think he desarves to get thim back, I'd like to know? Let's kape thim ourselves!
Jack. We need a couple of kids in the show. That Bub's a sharp one!
Pepper. No, fellows—that won't do. Perhaps the mother's a different kind.
[Enter Ben, speaks to Mike. The rest listen.
Ben. Dey's jus' wore out, dose chillen—done fall ersleep 'fo' I got de blanket over dem.
Jerry. I tell you what, fellows. That old flub of a farmer won't get in very early—let's give 'em a show all to themselves. What say?
Jack. Bully scheme!
Mike. That's classy, that is!
Harry [aside to Jerry]. S'pose the boss'll let us do a stunt like that? Not on yer life!
Pepper. Very good idea, Barney. You'll have all morning for it, sure.
[Troupe surprised and delighted. General
hum of pleasure.
Pepper [clearing his throat and hesitating a little]. Oh—a—a—I was going to say—these kids seem to have rather a slow time of it. What do you fellows say we do it up brown—go the whole figure and—well, a little Christmas won't hurt us, either. Let's give them a Christmas Tree. I'll set up the fixin's for it!
[An instant's pause of utter amazement, then
a hubbub of enthusiasm and approval, interrupted
by Ben.
Ben [coming forward, raps on the mess-table and raises his voice]. Gen'lemen! I'd like to offer de resolution dat we all gib t'ree cheers fo' Mr. Pepper!
[Cheers given with a will.
CURTAIN