Bird in hand

by Laurence Housman

Bird-in-Hand. Chich-a-wee!

Professor. (Trying to reject the evidence of his senses) No, no, no!—I must be ill!—Over-work!

Bird-in-Hand. Chip-chip-chip-chip-chewee-e-e!

Professor. What—Am I going out of my senses? (He makes a dive for the telephone) Station 1228, please—yes! 1 double 2, 8!

Bird-in-Hand. Two-eight! Two-eight!—Eight! eight! eight! eight! eight! eight!

(The note is still slow and plaintive, but the Professor gets more and more frightened.)

Professor. I can’t bear this; I can’t bear it!—My nerves won’t stand it!——

Bird-in-Hand. Chip it!—Chip it!

(The ’phone calls him.)

Professor. Is Doctor Locum—? Oh, Doctor, is that you?—Will you, please, come and see me at once?—Braintree—Professor Braintree. Yes—most urgent—I’m afraid I’ve, I’ve—broken down.