The Bicyclers and Three Other Farces

by John Kendrick Bangs

Perkins (from a distance). Hi! come down and help me with this thing. I can’t carry it up alone.

Yardsley. All right, Perk. Bradley, you and Barlow help Thaddeus. I’ll move these other chairs and tables out. It’s getting late, and we’ll have to hustle.

[Exit Barlow. Bradley meanwhile has been removing pictures from the walls, and, as Yardsley speaks, is standing on the stepladder reaching up for a painting.

Bradley. What do you take me for—twins?

Yardsley. Don’t get mad, now, Bradley. If there’s anything that can add to the terror of amateur theatricals it’s temper.

Mrs. Bradley (from without). Edward, come here right away. I want you to move the hat-stand, and see how many people can be seated in this hall.

Bradley. Oh yes, certainly, my dear—of course. Right away. My name is Legion—or Dennis.

Yardsley. That’s the spirit. (A crash is heard without.) Great Scott! What’s that?

Mrs. Perkins (without). Oh, Thaddeus!

Bradley. They’ve dropped the cook’s delight.