Official [descending and beckoning to the Policeman]. Sie wollen den Herrn accusiren? [The Policeman takes the Little Man's arm.]
American. What's that? They goin' to pinch him after all? [The Mother, still hugging her Baby, who has stopped crying, gazes at the Little Man, who sits dazedly looking up. Suddenly she drops on her knees, and with her free hand lifts his booted foot and kisses it.]
American [waving his hat]. 'Ra! 'Ra! [He descends swiftly, goes up to the Little Man, whose arm the Policeman has dropped, and takes his hand.] Brother, I am proud to know you. This is one of the greatest moments I have ever experienced. [Displaying the Little Man to the assembled company.] I think I sense the situation when I say that we all esteem it an honor to breathe the rather inferior atmosphere of this station here along with our little friend. I guess we shall all go home and treasure the memory of his face as the whitest thing in our museum of recollections. And perhaps this good woman will also go home and wash the face of our little brother here. I am inspired with a new faith in mankind. We can all be proud of this mutual experience; we have our share in it; we can kind of feel noble. Ladies and gentlemen, I wish to present to you a sure-enough saint—only wants a halo, to be transfigured. [To the Little Man.] Stand right up. [The Little Man stands up bewildered. They come about him. The Official bows to him, the Policeman salutes him. The Dutch Youth shakes his head and laughs. The German draws himself up very straight, and bows quickly twice. The Englishman and his wife approach at least two steps, then, thinking better of it, turn to each other and recede. The Mother kisses his hand. The Porter returning with the Sanitätsmachine, turns it on from behind, and its pinkish shower, goldened by a ray of sunlight, falls around the Little Man's head, transfiguring it as he stands with eyes upraised to see whence the portent comes.]
American [rushing forward and dropping on his knees]. Hold on just a minute! Guess I'll take a snap-shot of the miracle. [He adjusts his pocket camera.] This ought to look bully!
[THE CURTAIN.]
Foonotes
[1] See, however, Clayton Hamilton, Studies in Stagecraft, New York, 1914, and B. Roland Lewis, The Technique of the One-Act Play, Boston, 1918.
[2] Clayton Hamilton, Studies in Stagecraft, New York, 1914, pp. 254-255.
[3] The Elizabethan platform stage survived until then in the shape of the long "apron," projecting in front of the proscenium. The characters were constantly stepping out of the frame of the picture; and while this visual convention maintained itself, there was nothing inconsistent or jarring in the auditory convention of the soliloquy. See William Archer, Play-Making, Boston, 1912, pp. 397-405.
[4] Clayton Hamilton, The Non-Commercial Drama. The Bookman, May, 1915.