A. W. Pinero’s Plays

Price, 50 Cents Each

THE AMAZONS Farce in Three Acts. Seven males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, not difficult. Plays a full evening.

THE CABINET MINISTER Farce in Four Acts. Ten males, nine females. Costumes, modern society; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening.

DANDY DICK Farce in Three Acts. Seven males, four females. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays two hours and a half.

THE GAY LORD QUEX Comedy in Four Acts. Four males, ten females. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening.

THE HOUSE IN ORDER Comedy in Four Acts. Nine males, four females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening.

THE HOBBY HORSE Comedy in Three Acts. Ten males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery easy. Plays two hours and a half.

IRIS Drama in Five Acts. Seven males, seven females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening.

LADY BOUNTIFUL Play in Four Acts. Eight males, seven females. Costumes, modern; scenery, four interiors, not easy. Plays a full evening.

LETTY Drama in Four Acts and an Epilogue. Ten males, five females. Costumes, modern; scenery complicated. Plays a full evening.

THE MAGISTRATE Farce in Three Acts. Twelve males, four females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interior. Plays two hours and a half.

Sent prepaid on receipt of price by
Walter H. Baker & Company
No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts

Look Out For Paint

A Farce Comedy in Three Acts

By
CORNELIUS SHEA

BOSTON
WALTER H. BAKER & CO.
1912

Look Out For Paint

CHARACTERS

(As originally produced in Tottenville, N. Y., June 9, 1911).

Time:—The present. Locality:—A farm in the upper part of New York State.

Time of performance, one hour and a half.

Copyright, 1912, by Walter H. Baker & Co.

SYNOPSIS

Act I.—Dining-room at “High Up Farm.” The arrival of the boarder from the city. The two letters. The farmer decides to have his sailboat painted, since the summer boarders have begun to come.

Act II.—Lawn at “High Up Farm.” Heartache is much perplexed. Helen helps him fix it. The tramp. The plot. Hattie is surprised. “He has disguised himself to test the depths of my devotion.” The tramp tries to escape.

Act III.—Same as Act II. An embarrassing mistake. “Look out for paint.” Miss Renwick decides that she don’t want a husband. The widow wins. Bill settles it all.

COSTUMES

It will be necessary for Hattie and Helen to change. Hattie is to be stylishly gowned in summer apparel when she enters in first act. Helen to fit the occasion, as a farmer’s daughter when at work about the house, and also “dressed up” to receive visitors. Bill in ridiculous make-up and big straw hat. Percy in rather dudish style. Roamer in ragged coat and overalls. Hiram as a farmer at work. Hickory “dressed up” a little. Lucinda as a widow just discarding her weeds. Susan with apron, etc.

PROPERTIES

Churn, table, chairs, benches, etc., broom, feather duster and ordinary furnishings for common sitting-room; table is set on lawn during intermission between second and third acts Sign, “Cow for Sale.” Two paint cans, with brushes.

Look Out for Paint

ACT I

SCENE.—Sitting-room of the “High Up Farmhouse.”

Enter Hiram Rodney, drying hands with big, coarse towel.

Hiram. So it’s city boarders we’re going to have, eh? An’ one is comin’ to-day! Well, I don’t think a whole lot of this pesky business, but Susan got it in her head to take ’em, so I s’pose she’s got to have her way about it. Women-folks generally does have their own way, anyhow. I know Susan does; she always has, too. But it’s all right. A little cash money from boarders will come in mighty handy, I calculate. It’s been so dry that it looks as though the corn crop is going to be a rank failure. An’ the hay——(Voices and laughter outside.) Hello! What’s this? Bill has brought the new boarder over from the depot, I s’pose. (Goes to door at C.) Yes, sure enough, she’s come. My! but ain’t she dressed up! Paint an’ powder on her face, too! An’ Bill is luggin’ in her trunk.

Enter Bill, carrying trunk, followed by Hattie Renwick.

Bill. Here we are, Mr. Rodney. I found her all right. Ain’t she a stunner? I’ll bet that dress an’ hat of hers cost more’n five dollars, bergosh! Ain’t she——

Hiram. Shet up, you fool! Don’t you know how to act when we’ve got company?

Hat. (graciously). Oh, don’t mind him. I think Bill is just too cute for anything. He is so witty in his conversation that I just enjoyed myself riding over from the depot. (Laughs lightly and glances killingly at Bill, who curtsies and then struts around like a peacock.) So this is High Up Farm, I suppose?

Hiram. Yes, miss, that’s just what it is. Be you Miss Hattie Renwick, the new boarder?

Hat. Yes, that is who I am, sir. I suppose you are Mr. Rodney?

Hiram. That’s me. I’m the boss of this here place—when Susan ain’t around, I mean. (Footsteps at L.) Here she comes now. She’ll look after you all right, miss. Susan knows her business.

Enter Susan Rodney, from kitchen at L.

Hat. Mrs. Rodney, I presume?

Susan (bowing and smiling). Yes, that’s who I be. You are the young lady come here to board, I take it?

Hiram. That’s who she is, Susan. Jest look after her, will you? (To Bill.) Take that trunk up-stairs, Bill, an’ hurry up about it. I’ve got to send you back to the village before you unhitch the mare. I wanted you to do an errand for me, but you went off without me knowin’ it. Hurry up now.

Bill. All right. I’ll git this here trunk up-stairs in a jiffy. (Tries to lift trunk and falls over it.) Gosh! I missed my hold that time. (To Hat.) Say, miss, there ain’t no crockery in this, is there?

Hat. (laughing). No crockery, Bill.

Bill. All right, then.

(Hiram helps him and the two exeunt with trunk at R.)

Hat. (looking about room and breathing a sigh of relief). What a relief to get out of the crowded, dusty city. I am so glad I am here.

Susan. You ought to be, Miss Renwick. There is nothing like the dear old country, after all. Shall I show you to your room?

Hat. If you please, Mrs. Rodney.

Enter Hiram and Bill, R. Exeunt Susan and Hat., R.

Hiram. Now, Bill, I want you to drive over to the village and tell Jim Styles to send a man over here to paint ther boat just as soon as he kin. Since we’re goin’ ter have boarders, we’ve got to have the boat so they kin use it on the lake. Tell him it’s white paint for the outside an’ yaller inside. Don’t you forgit, Bill.

Bill. I won’t. But I’ll have to bring in an armful of wood first. I seen there wasn’t any in ther wood-box when I come in.

Hiram. Mighty thoughtful of you all at once.

Bill. Say! but ain’t the new boarder a daisy?

(Laughs uproariously.)

Hiram. Pshaw! You don’t think that city gal would take any notice of you, do yer?

Bill. I don’t, eh? That’s as much as you know about it. Why, she told me I was a fine specimen of a healthy young farmer. (Draws himself up proudly.) An’ she give me a dig in ther ribs, too. She’s a reg’lar peach! (Laughs loudly again.)

Hiram. You’re a born fool, Bill, an’ you don’t know it. That gal was jest makin’ fun of yer, that’s all. [Exeunt Hiram and Bill.

Enter Helen Rodney, with bunch of flowers in her hand.

Hel. I see the buggy outside, so I suppose our boarder has arrived. I wonder how she looks? She wrote that she is a stenographer in New York, and the letter was typewritten, too. By the way it read, she must be very much of a lady. Well, as there is no one here now, I’ll take my chance to write a note to Percy. I know mother won’t object, so I’ll invite him over to take tea with us to-morrow afternoon. Percy is just too sweet for anything; and he is an artist, too! I hope the new boarder is not good-looking, so there will be no danger of her cutting me out. (Opens drawer in stand and takes out paper, pen and ink and writes.) There! (Holds up note she has written.) That is rather brief, but it will answer the purpose, I know. Percy will be delighted to come, too. When mother and father see him and get acquainted with him they won’t mind if he comes often, I am sure. (Reads.) “Dear Percy, come over to-morrow afternoon and take tea with us. Pa and ma will be pleased to see you. Yours lovingly, H. R.” (Places paper in envelope and addresses it. Bill is heard whistling outside.) Here, Bill, I want you. Hurry up.

(Bill enters on a run and stumbles, throwing an armful of wood on the floor.)

Bill (on his hands and knees). What do yer want, Helen?

Hel. Get up, stupid. I want you to take this letter to the post-office some time to-day.

Bill (taking letter). All right, Helen. I’ve got to go to ther village right away, an’ I’ll mail ther letter for yer.

Hel. Well, see that you don’t lose it. Here is ten cents for you.

Bill. Hooray! I’ll buy a mouth-organ now. Then I’ll make some mew-sick around High Up Farm, see if I don’t. Helen, you never heard me play a mouth-organ, did yer?

Hel. No; and I don’t wish to hear you, either. Just pick up that wood and be off with you.

Bill (gathering up the sticks of wood). All right, Helen. I forgot to thank you for this dime.

(Puts coin in mouth and then goes off L.)

(Exit Hel., C. Enter Hat., R.)

Hat. Oh! Here is pen, ink and paper. Just what I want. I wonder if I could get that simple fellow, Bill, to go over to the post-office? I must let Percy know I am here. Won’t he be surprised! What a romance, indeed. We have never seen each other, nor even exchanged photographs, but I am sure he loves me, or he would never have answered my second letter after reading my advertisement in a matrimonial paper. When I found High Up Farm was so near the village he is stopping in I could not make arrangements to come here quickly enough. How delightful! How romantic! I’ll just write him a few words to let him know I am here. I will ask him to come over to-morrow afternoon. Just think of it! How romantic it will be! I am sure I will know him, for I can imagine just how he looks from his letters. And he is an artist, too. Very, very romantic! (Sits down and writes.) There! I think this will do. (Reads.) “Dear Percy: I have just arrived at High Up Farm and will be pleased to meet you here to-morrow afternoon. I know how surprised you will be when you read this, and feel sure that when you see me you will not be sorry you answered my matrimonial advertisement, which was really inserted more in a spirit of mischief than anything else. Yours, lovingly, H. R.” (To audience.) That ought to land him, if anything will. Since I have decided to get married, I must go the limit. I must land this handsome young artist—I know he must be handsome, for artists always are—and I will surely look my best to-morrow afternoon. I wonder where that big booby, Bill, is? (Bill heard whistling outside.) Oh! there he is now. (Walks to L.) Come here, Bill; I want you.

Enter Bill, whip in hand.

Bill. What do you want, miss?

Hat. When are you going over to the village again?

Bill. Right now. Kin I do anything for yer?

Hat. (sealing note in envelope). Yes; take this letter to the post-office for me. (Writes address on envelope.)

Bill. All right, Miss Daisy; I’ll do it for yer.

Hat. My name isn’t Daisy.

Bill. Well, you’re a daisy, jest ther same.

Hat. (laughing). Do you think so, Bill?

Bill. I don’t think so; I know it, bergosh!

Hat. None of that, Bill. I know you don’t mean a word of what you say. You are just like the rest of the men.

Bill (pulling up trousers and strutting about with chest thrown out). Rest of ther men, eh? Well, I always thought I was nothin’ but a boy yet. But if you say I’m a man, I must be, Daisy.

Hat. (handing him letter and piece of money). Here is a quarter for you. Take the letter and be sure and mail it. That’s a good boy.

Bill (starting toward L.). Boy, eh? A minute ago I was a man. Well, that’s jest like ther wimmen-folks. They say one thing an’ mean another.

(Laughs loudly and goes off L. Hat. goes off C.)

Enter Susan, R.

Susan. Now I suppose I must get dinner ready. The new boarder is most likely hungry, an’ I want her to be satisfied. Six dollars a week ain’t to be sneezed at these times.

(Starts for L., when Hel. enters.)

Hel. Mother, I have asked a young man to come over and take tea with us to-morrow. You don’t object, do you?

Susan. Young man? You mean that painter you’ve talked so much about in the last week or two, I s’pose?

Hel. Not painter, mother. He is an artist.

Susan. Well, ain’t a painter an artist? I call him a painter, an’ I don’t think he amounts to much, though I ain’t never set eyes on him.

Hel. (taking Susan’s face in her hands). Oh, mother, you will surely change your opinion when you see him once. He is just too sweet for anything. He is very wealthy, too, and I happen to know that he has more than an ordinary fondness for me.

Susan (disengaging herself from Hel.). All girls are alike at your age. Well, let him come, if he wants to. I was thinking of inviting the widow over to-morrow afternoon, so Miss Renwick would have company. Most likely she’ll find it rather lonesome here at first. Hick Homespun told your father he was coming over to look at the brindle cow which is for sale, to-morrow afternoon, so it will just come in fine. The widow has set her cap for Hick, an’ I’ve made up my mind to help her along all I can. Yes. Let the painter come over, an’ we’ll have a little party.

Hel. And we won’t say anything about it to father, or the boarder, mother. Let’s make it a surprise party, as far as they are concerned.

Susan. Very well, Helen. I was goin’ to tell your father, but if you want him surprised it’s all right.

Hel. Where is the new boarder, mother? I haven’t seen her yet.

Susan. She is up in her room. She seems to be a very nice girl.

Hel. Is she good-looking?

Susan. Very. She reminds me of one of them pictures you see in the fashion books. (Starts.) I hear her coming downstairs now. I’ll introduce you right away.

Enter Hat., R.

Hat. Has Bill gone yet, Mrs. Rodney? I have just discovered that I failed to bring my tooth powder with me, and if there is a drug store at the village I want him to get me some.

Susan. I’ll see if Bill has gone yet, Miss Renwick. (Goes to door at C., and looks out.) There! he is going now. Hey, Bill! Come back here. You’re wanted. (Comes back.) Miss Renwick, let me make you acquainted with my daughter Helen.

(Hel., who has been studying the new boarder, advances a step and bows.)

Hat. I am very glad to meet her, I am sure. How do you do, Miss Rodney? (They shake hands.)

Hel. I am quite well, I thank you. I hope you will like it here at High Up Farm.

Hat. I hope so; but it does seem rather slow here at the start. You see, I am so used to the gay life of the city, with the theatre parties every night or two, and the receptions and balls. It is so different in the country. But I will get used to it, I know.

Hel. Miss Renwick, do stenographers have such enjoyment in the city? They must draw large salaries.

Hat. Oh, they do. But of course they don’t use their own money for such pleasures. The fellows attend to that part of it—young men interested in Wall Street, and the like, you know.

Hel. Oh, I see. It must be delightful to live in the city and be a stenographer.

Enter Bill hurriedly from C.

Bill. What do yer want, Missus Rodney? You jest stopped me in time. If I hadn’t waited to fix ther mare’s traces you wouldn’t have got me.

Hat. (smiling graciously). It is I who want you, Bill.

Bill. Oh, it’s you, eh, Daisy?

Hat. What did I tell you about calling me Daisy?

Bill. Excuse me. I’ll change it an’ call you Peach, then.

Hat. Stop your nonsense, Bill. (Takes money from purse and hands it to him.) There! Stop at the drug store and get me a box of tooth powder. If you can’t get powder, get paste.

Bill. An’ if I can’t git paste I’ll git a bottle of mucilage.

Hel. The idea, Bill! Mucilage! People don’t use such stuff as that to clean their teeth.

Bill. If they was false it would be good to stick ’em to ther gums.

Hat. (sharply). Bill, I want you to understand that my teeth are all my own.

Bill. Of course, Daisy—I mean Peach. Whose would they be? If you’ve got false ones most likely you paid for ’em. Whose would they be? (Goes to door at C., laughing.) But all right, Peach. I’ll git ther tooth powder for yer. I won’t forgit. I’m goin’ to buy a set of clappers with that quarter you give me afore. Then, with a new mouth-organ an’ ther clappers, there’ll be a regular band of music around High Up Farm. [Exit.

Hel. Mother, that boy is getting to be a regular nuisance. The idea of him speaking that way to a stranger!

Hat. Oh! I don’t mind him, Miss Rodney. Bill isn’t exactly all right. I noticed that when he met me at the depot. He means no offense, I am sure. His comical actions and remarks help take away the dullness. Bill is all right.

Susan. Well, we’ve had him ever since he was about ten years old, an’ he’s always been pretty faithful. I s’pose he can’t help it if he’s a little loose in his upper story. Most likely he was born that way.

Hel. Quite likely, mother.

Hat. (sitting down). Miss Helen, are there many good-looking young farmers around here?

Hel. There are plenty of young men in the neighborhood, Miss Renwick. But as to their good looks, I suppose you would be better able to judge than I. You reside in the city, and I presume you see so many handsome young men that you would not think much of those you will meet here in the country. As for myself, I don’t care a great deal for farmers.

Susan. Shame on you, Helen! You, a farmer’s daughter, talkin’ like that.

Hel. I can’t help it, mother; just because I was born on a farm don’t say that I should be a farmer’s wife.

Hat. Why, I think that would be delightful, provided the husband could give his wife all she wanted. Plenty of fine dresses, a horse and carriage, and a nice automobile. Farmers usually are very wealthy, I have heard.

Susan. Well, there ain’t many rich ones around here, Miss Renwick. About the only one anywhere around here who’s got plenty of money is Hick Homespun, an’ his father left it to him. Hick never earned it, though he does know pretty well how to keep it.

Hat. Hick Homespun! What a funny name, Mrs. Rodney.

Susan. Yes, it is a sorter old-fashioned name. But Hick is all right, just the same.

Hel. His given name is Hickory, but every one calls him Hick, for short.

Hat. Is he married?

Hel. No, he is a bachelor farmer.

Susan. But he ain’t likely to remain a bachelor very long. Lucinda Wheatchaff, the widow, has set her cap for him. She’ll catch him, too, for Lucinda has very winnin’ ways. She made up her mind to get Hank Wheatchaff, an’ she jest went ahead an’ got him. But Hank didn’t live more’n a year, an’ when he died he left the widow a nice little farm an’ a few thousands in cash. Lucinda will win Hick all right, though he’s an awful bashful man. She’ll—— (Knock at door C.) As I live! I believe that’s the widow now. I always know her knock. (Calls out.) Come in.

Enter Lucinda Wheatchaff.

Luc. Hello, everybody! Isn’t this a lovely day? (Sees Hat.) Oh! excuse me, Mrs. Rodney. I wasn’t aware that you had company.

Susan (introducing them). Mrs. Wheatchaff, this is our new boarder, Miss Renwick, of New York.

Luc. How do you do, Miss Renwick? We country folks are always glad to meet city folks.

Hat. (graciously). It gives me great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Wheatchaff.

(They shake hands, the widow very demonstrative.)

Hel. Lucinda, I was just telling Miss Renwick about Hick. She wanted to know if there were any nice young men around here.

Luc. Oh, she wanted to know that, eh? (Sizes up Hat. critically, and then gives a sniff.) Well, I hardly think Hick Homespun would suit her. Hick has got an awful objection to paint and powder, too. He wouldn’t be apt to take to Miss Renwick.

Hat. (with sweet sarcasm). Indeed! Mrs. Wheatchaff, you are very blunt in your way of speaking, I see. But if the gentleman referred to objects to paint and powder, how do you ever expect to win him?

Luc. (holding up her hands in surprise). Me? As if I wanted another man! I’ve had one, and I am sure that is enough. (Picks up her parasol and walks about indignantly.) But say! (Pauses before Hat. and shakes parasol at her.) If you think you can get Hick Homespun to take any notice of you, go ahead. I’m sure it is nothing to me. But I don’t believe——

(Loud noise outside, and Hiram enters in great excitement.)

Hiram. Susan, get the gun—quick! There’s a big chicken-hawk after the old dominick hen an’ her chickens. Hurry, Susan!

(Exit Susan hurriedly at R. Hel. grabs a feather duster, Hat. seizes broom which Susan has left in a corner of the room, and Luc. waves her parasol. Susan enters R. with gun. Then Hiram grabs the gun and all rush out excitedly. Report of gun is heard.)

QUICK CURTAIN

ACT II

SCENE.—Lawn of the “High Up Farmhouse.” Day later. A few chairs and benches scattered about. Churn near side of house. Sign: “Cow for sale” on tree.

Enter Percy Heartache, L.

Percy (perplexed). Well, this is a great state of affairs. I don’t know how I am to get out of the mess I am in. Who would ever have dreamed of such a thing as that girl I corresponded with through the foolish matrimonial advertisement would be here? Why, I never saw her, and I only answered her letters for fun. The idea of her going so far as to come here to board! It is ridiculous. But to make matters worse (shaking his head sadly) Helen sends me an invitation to come over this afternoon and get acquainted with her parents. The two letters arrived at the same time, and both bear the same initials. (Takes letters from pocket and again shakes his head.) Well (bracing up), I made up my mind to come here and make a clean breast of it to Helen, and I came an hour earlier, so I might learn my fate as soon as possible. I wish I could see her without going to the house. Ah! here she comes now, as I live!

Enter Hel., R. Hurries to the churn and starts churning.

Hel. Oh, dear! I wish the butter would come. (Churns vigorously.) I won’t have time to dress before Percy gets here. The dear fellow. I know he will surely come.

(Percy brightens up and steps softly toward her. Hel. has her back to him and has not seen him.)

Percy. Ahem!

Hel. (stops churning and turns). Oh! is it you, Mr. Heartache?

Percy. Yes, Miss Rodney. I came over a little early, because I have something to say to you. It is of a rather serious nature, and has been worrying me ever since I went to the post-office last night. (Walks to L.)

Hel. (aside). Gracious! It can’t be that he is going to propose. (Walks toward Percy.) What is it, Mr. Heartache? Perhaps I might be able to advise you.

Percy (brightening up). I am sure you can, Helen—I mean Miss Rodney. I surely am in a bad fix. But sit down here and I’ll tell you all about it.

(They sit upon bench near C.)

Hel. Go on and tell me. I am sure your troubles cannot be very great.

Percy. Wait until you have heard. Helen—excuse me for calling you Helen——

Hel. Certainly. To be even with you, I shall call you Percy.

Percy. I like that. But let me tell my story. Perhaps after you have heard it you won’t want to ever see me again.

Hel. Is it so serious as all that?

Percy. It surely is. Helen, a month or so ago I was foolish enough to answer an advertisement in a matrimonial paper. I did it just for the fun of the thing, you know.

Hel. I did the same thing once. A bachelor, whose chief drawing points were that he was bald-headed and had a fortune, advertised that he wished to correspond with a charming country girl who was matrimonially inclined, and I wrote to him.

Percy. Ah! is that so?

Hel. Yes; but there was no harm in it, was there?

Percy. Certainly not. How many letters did you write to him?

Hel. Only one. I did not answer the one I received in reply, for it seemed as though he meant business, and what did I want of an old bald-headed man, even if he was rich?

Percy. Of course you didn’t want him. But to be real serious, Helen. The fix I am in at present is all through answering an advertisement in a matrimonial paper. I wrote to the young lady twice, and it seems that she took it altogether too seriously. The fact is, Helen, that she is here, and she has invited me to call at your father’s house this afternoon.

Hel. (rising excitedly). What do you mean?

Percy. Just what I say. Haven’t you a young lady stopping here?

Hel. Why—er—yes. But——

Percy. Isn’t her name Hattie Renwick?

Hel. (completely amazed). Yes, that is her name.

Percy. Read this note and you will understand it all. (Hands her Hattie’s note.) I hope you will forgive me, Helen. I will never do such a foolish thing again as long as I live.

Hel. (reading note aloud). Well, I declare! If this isn’t a remarkable coincidence. Why, she must have sent this to the post-office with Bill when I sent mine yesterday.

Percy. I received the two invitations at the same time. Imagine my surprise, and my feelings, too, when I read them.

Hel. Well, I am not a bit jealous of her, Percy. I consider this a great joke, indeed I do.

Percy. Oh, do you? You are not angry, then?

Hel. Angry? No. But say, Percy, if you could only get some one to come here and represent himself to be Percy Heartache, what a joke it would be! Miss Renwick is an old maid, and the way she paints her face is disgusting. Imagine her wanting to marry a handsome young artist! Why, she is artist enough herself.

(Laughs lightly, and Percy, much relieved, joins in.)

Percy. I wish I knew how to get out of this. Your suggestion is a good one, but who could I get to represent himself to be me? I suppose I might go back to the village and find some one, though.

Hel. (eagerly). Do it, Percy. You can find somebody who would do it just for the fun of it. I will tell mother about it. Here she comes now.

Enter Susan, R.

Susan. Why, Helen, have you given up the churning? Oh! you have a visitor, I see. (Smiles and approaches.)

Hel. Yes, mother, let me introduce you to Mr. Heartache. He is the young man I spoke to you about—the artist, you know.

Susan. So he is the painter, eh? How do you do, Mr. Heartache?

Percy. Quite well, thank you. (Bows, and then Susan extends hand. Percy accepts it and they shake cordially.) You have a beautiful place here, Mrs. Rodney. High Up Farm is well named. The land is very high and level here and the pure air is simply delightful. The scenery is grand, too, and I mean to make some sketches of it, if I receive permission to do so.

Susan. You mean to paint pictures of the trees and such.

Percy. Yes, that is it.

Hel. Mother, what do you think Hattie Renwick came to board with us for?

Susan (surprised). Why, I don’t know, unless it was to get away from the city for a while and enjoy herself in the fresh country air. What do you mean, Helen?

Hel. Well, I’ll tell you, mother. She came here so she could get acquainted with Mr. Heartache. It seems that he answered a matrimonial advertisement she inserted in some paper, and when she answered him he wrote again, giving his address at the village. She discovered that our farm was right near the village, so she came here. Percy—I mean Mr. Heartache—never saw Miss Renwick, and he cares nothing for her, whatever. She had the audacity to——

Susan. Why, Helen, what do you mean?

Hel. Listen, mother. Let me finish. She had the audacity to send Mr. Heartache a note, inviting him here to-day. I invited him, too, as you are aware. Now, he does not want to let the brazen old maid know who he is, and we were just talking and trying to think of some way to play a joke on her.

Susan. Well, if that is why she came to High Up Farm I think she ought to have a joke played on her. I have a notion to go right now and tell her what I think of her.

Hel. Don’t do it, mother. She is getting along in years, and she no doubt wants to get a husband so badly that she can be excused. What we want you to do is to help us in this. It will only be a little harmless fun, and Percy will be spared the scene that would surely follow if she met him, thinking he had come here for the purpose of meeting her. Percy is going to the village and will try to get some one to impersonate him. Of course it will not be a good-looking young man he will get, either, and there is where the fun will come in. Now, mother, do help us out, won’t you?

Susan (shaking her head, as though in doubt). I don’t like this kind of business, Helen. But since Mr. Heartache seems to be such a nice young man, an’ he is a painter, besides, I’ll do as you want me to. The idea of Miss Renwick comin’ here for the purpose of tryin’ to catch a husband!

Hel. Oh, mother, I am so glad. Now, then, if a man comes here and is introduced as Mr. Percy Heartache, you will know what to do.

Susan. Yes; I’ll call Miss Renwick right away.

Enter Trotwell Roamer, L.

Roam. Is this the High Up Farm?

Susan. Yes; what do you want?

Roam. (setting down paint pots and brushes). I’m the painter.

Susan (looking at Percy). The painter?

Roam. Yes, my boss sent me over here to paint a boat for Mr. Rodney.

Percy (smiling at the two). I think this man might fill the bill. Shall I ask him?

Hel. (eagerly). Yes, ask him, Percy. I am sure he would be just the one. He is a painter, too. Think of it! (Laughs.)

Roam. Well, maybe I am an artist, then. Does that sound any better?

Hel. Much better, sir. You’ll surely do.

Roam. Oh! I’ll paint the boat, all right. Where is she?

Hel. In the house. But you don’t want to see her yet. Wait until you understand what we want you to do.

(Susan goes to churn and begins churning.)

Roam. (looking at Percy). What’s all this, anyhow? You ain’t tryin’ to jolly me, are you?

Percy. Not a bit, my friend. See here! Do you want to earn five dollars?

Roam. Do I? Don’t I look as though I did? Why, I’ve been trampin’ for three weeks without findin’ a job. I hit the village over here last night an’ happened to land with Styles, the boss painter. This morning he found out that I was all right, so he sent me over here to paint a boat. But I didn’t think the boat was in the house. (Looks at Hel.)

Hel. The boat isn’t in the house. Percy, go on and tell him.

Percy. Mr. What’s-Your-Name——

Roam. Trotwell Roamer is my name, boss.

Percy. Well, Mr. Trotwell Roamer, there is a young lady in the house who is expecting a call from a young man she has never seen. She is looking for a husband, and she will no doubt be dead struck on you, if you take the part.

Roam. (looking at his overalls and ragged coat and laughing). Well, I don’t know why she wouldn’t be, boss. But go ahead with your game. Let me see the color of that five-spot first. Then I’ll feel more like listenin’ to you.

Percy (producing a five-dollar bill). There you are. Now, then, is it a go?

Roam. You bet it is. But say! there ain’t no danger of a breach of promise suit in this, is there?

Percy (laughing). I hardly think so. Now, to be brief about it, all you have got to do is to say that you are Percy Heartache, the artist. You can say it to any one you meet, for that matter. But the young lady—Hattie Renwick is her name—is the party the joke is to be on. She has been corresponding with you, you know, and has thrown out her net to catch you for a husband. Do you understand?

Roam. (shaking his head). Putty well, boss. I’m Percy Heartache, the artist, an’ she’s tryin’ to nail me for a husband. Yes, that’s all right.

Percy. Well, take this note, then. It will help you out, I think.

(Hands him Hat.’s note. Roam. reads it and nods approvingly.)

Roam. I guess I can fill the bill, boss. Leave it to me. I’ll bet that young lady won’t want no artist for a husband after she’s talked to me a while. I’ll settle her matrimonial aspirations, all right. Give me that five-spot, an’ the thing will be done in fine shape.

Percy (handing him the five-dollar bill). I am sure you’ll do it right, Mr. Roamer.

Roam. (strutting about). Mr. Percy Heartache, please. There’s my name, sir! (Holds out envelope that is addressed to Percy.) I’m Percy Heartache, the artist, an’ here’s my paints an’ brushes. Artist, eh? Well, I guess!

Susan (ceasing her churning). Come, Helen, help me take the churn in the kitchen.

Hel. All right, mother.

(Smiles at Percy and exits R., with her mother, carrying churn.)

Percy. Now, my friend, I’ll take a stroll around and leave you here. The chances are that the young lady will soon appear. If she does not, go and knock at the door and inquire for her. I will be near at hand to see and hear the fun. If you carry it through right I’ll give you another five.

Roam. Gee! You bet I’ll do it right, boss. Another five, eh? Why, I certainly am in luck. [Exit Percy, C.

Enter Bill, carrying empty pail and blowing on harmonica.

Bill. Hello! You’re ther man what’s come over to paint the boat, ain’t yer? (Looks at paint cans.)

Roam. (haughtily). I am Percy Heartache, the artist.

Bill (laughing loudly and wiping harmonica on sleeve and putting in pocket). You ain’t ther painter, then?

Roam. No, I am the artist. Can you tell me where I can find Miss Hattie Renwick?

Bill (ignoring the question and pointing to paint cans). Who does ther paint an’ brushes belong to?

Roam. The painter, I suppose. He was here a little while ago. But see here, you thick-head! Where is the young lady who wrote this letter to me?

Bill. Which one? There is two of ’em. So you’re ther artist, eh? Well, I took two letters to ther post-office that was addressed to Percy Heartache. I know I did, ’cause I kin read, an’ I read ’em over a dozen times. One was from Helen an’ ther other was from Daisy.

Roam. Who is Daisy?

Bill. Hattie Renwick is her right name. But I call her Daisy—or Peach, ’cause she don’t like Daisy so well. I tell yer, Mr. Artist! she’s a daisy an’ a peach, too. But I didn’t think no sech scarecrow as you was the one she wrote to.

Roam. (angrily). What do you mean by calling me a scarecrow? Just because I have my working clothes on have I got to be insulted?

Bill (stepping back in a frightened way). Never mind, Mr. Artist. Don’t hit me. I didn’t mean nothin’. If you want me to call Miss Renwick I’ll do it for you.

Roam. All right. Do so. But don’t let any one else in the house know that the artist is here. You fetch Miss Renwick out, an’ when I get some change I’ll give you a quarter.

(Shows Bill the five-dollar bill Percy gave him.)

Bill (starting for house). My! He’s got money, all right. But blamed if I kin understand what Helen an’ Daisy wrote letters to him for. Why, he looks like a regular tramp.

Roam. (menacingly). What’s that?

Bill. Nothin’, Mr. Artist. I’ll have the peach out here in a jiffy.

(Exit Bill, R. Roam. sits on bench, crosses legs and removes hat. Brushes hair with his hand.)

Roam. Well, this is funny business, an’ no mistake. What am I up against, anyhow? But it’s all right. I’ve got one five-spot, an’ there is another one comin’, if I do ther job right. You bet I’m ther one who kin do it, too. I ought to be an actor, instead of a tramp painter. (Starts.) Hello! here comes the girl, I suppose. That thick-headed boy has found her, all right. Now to paralyze her. (Enter Bill and Hat., R. Roam. rises and bows.) How are you, sweetness?

Hat. (in dismay). Who are you, sir?

Roam. Percy Heartache, the artist, at your service, my own love.

Bill (laughing uproariously). That’s who he is, Peach. Ain’t he a reg’lar dude?

Hat. (clasping her hands). Well, I never!

Bill. Neither did I, Peach. But here he is. You sent for him, he says, so it ain’t none of my business. (To Roam., sotto voce.) Don’t forgit that quarter when you git that bill changed.

Roam. (striking an attitude). Avaunt! Quit my sight, thou silly buffoon! Leave me alone in the presence of my adored one. [Exit Bill, L.

Hat. Oh, oh, oh!

Roam. (dropping on knees before her). Fear not, fair one. You surely have not forgotten the words of love and devotion that have passed between us in correspondence. Listen! I am not what I am! Once I have cast aside my working clothes and appear in the costly raiment that fits so well my youthful form you would not know me. I am in disguise, my darling Hattie! Oh! come to my arms, my loved one! Who would have dreamed that such bliss could exist upon this mundane sphere? (Rises.)

Hat. (stepping back and facing audience). Can it be that he has donned this disguise simply to try me? It must be. I will listen to him, for he speaks as no other man has ever done to me. (To Roam.) My dear Mr. Heartache, though I am somewhat surprised to meet you in such attire, I will frankly say that I like your manner of speech. You have undoubtedly disguised yourself as a common laborer or tramp for the purpose of learning the true depths of my affection for you. It is all right, Percy. Proceed with your lovely words of conversation. I can see that you would really be a handsome young man if you donned your proper attire and—and—treated yourself to a bath.

Roam. (aside). Great Scott! This business ain’t working the way I thought it would. The first thing I know I’ll be in a breach of promise suit, sure. But maybe that would be a better suit than the one I am now wearing, so I’ll see it through if I bust!

Enter Luc., at L. Sees Hat. and Roam., and steps back to watch and listen. Bill appears at C., and does the same.

Hat. (smiling). Sit down on the bench, Mr. Heartache.

Luc. (aside). Mr. Heartache! Why, that must be the artist Helen is infatuated with. Well, what is the girl thinking about? Why, that fellow is nothing but a tramp. They say listeners never hear any good of themselves, but I am going to hear this through, or know the reason why.

Roam. (sitting down). Well, what do you want me to do now?

Hat. Talk like you did a little while ago.

(Sits down beside him.)