At the foot of the rock where the unknown man is to fall, two policemen are chasing the children away and partitioning off a space, drawing a rope around short stakes stuck in the ground. It is noisy and jolly.)
Policeman. Get away, you loafer! The man’ll fall on your head and then your mother and father will be making a hullabaloo about it.
Boy. Will he fall here?
Policeman. Yes, here.
Boy. Suppose he drops farther?
Second Policeman. The boy is right. He may get desperate and jump, land beyond the rope and hit some people in the crowd. I guess he weighs at least about two hundred pounds.
First Policeman. Move on, move on, you! Where are you going? Is that your daughter, lady? Please take her away! The young man will soon fall.
Lady. Soon? Did you say he is going to fall soon? Oh, heavens, and my husband’s not here!
Little Girl. He’s in the café, mamma.
Lady (desperately). Yes, of course. He’s always in the café. Go call him, Nellie. Tell him the man will soon drop. Hurry! Hurry!