Books: The Pot Boiler
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Upton Sinclair >> The Pot Boiler
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_Peggy._ There's no use talking that way, Will, you simply can't
write a money-making play without love-interest. And also you've got
to have comedy characters--real characters--
_Will (eagerly)._ I'll have one character, at least! In the next
scene, when the father comes in! It'll be a jolly lark, Peggy--I'm
going to use Dad!
_Peggy._ Your own father!
_Will._ Yes, why not?
_Peggy._ He might hear of it, Will!
_Will._ He despises the theatre. Half his anger at me was because I
married an actress. And it seems to me, if we can't get any money
out of him, we might at least get a character-study.
_Peggy._ All right, Dad let it be!
_Will._ I'll show you how it is. Here! (_Pushes the manuscripts
towards her; the Play-play begins to appear._) Jack has gone upstairs
to change his clothes, and here comes Dad. He's an old man--rich,
irascible, given to scolding. I remember how he used to snort when
anything didn't please him.
_Dad._ Huh! huh-huh!
_Will._ He's heard the story about Jack. Here's the Mss. Read. (_She
takes the manuscript and begins to read. Full light on Play-play.
Will exit secretly._)
_Dad (to Bob)._ What do you think of this?
_Bob._ What?
_Dad._ My precious son in trouble again! Never any end to it!
Recklessness--dissipation--insolence! I've reached the end of my
patience. Absolutely the end!
_Bob._ What's happened?
_Dad (waves letter in his hand)._ Here's a letter from the dean.
He's got himself suspended from college.
_Jessie (horrified)._ Oh, Dad!
_Bob._ What's he done?
_Dad._ Turning loose a live goat in a college lecture hall!
_Bob._ You can't mean it!
_Dad._ Here's the letter! They were having a fraternity initiation,
it seems, and Jack was bringing the goat, his horns painted with
phosphorus, a bunch of fire-crackers tied to his tail. Fire-crackers
to the tail of a goat!
_Jessie._ But Dad! How do you know that Jack--
_Dad._ He admitted everything in his letter to the dean! He was
passing a hall where they were giving an evening lecture. He had a
grudge against the professor. He turned out the lights, and turned
loose the goat! What do you think of that? _(A silence.)_ What do
you _think_ of it?
_Jessie._ Why Dad, I think it's funny.
_Dad._ Funny! You propose to take his side, do you? And now he's out
of college and has nothing to do but loaf around the house! I tell
you I've reached the limit of my patience. It's just as Bob
says--he's a parasite. Nothing to do but squander my money--fit for
nothing else, having no other idea! I tell you I won't support the
loafer!
_Jessie._ Dad!
_Bob._ You've brought the boy up wrong.
_Dad._ So you propose to blame _me!_
_Jack (appears in doorway Left clad in ragged anil dirty overcoat)._
Of course, Dad. It really isn't fair to scold other people for your
own blunder.
_Dad._ Oh, there you are! _(Notices Jack's clothes.)_ What the devil
is this?
_Jack._ What, Dad?
_Dad._ Drunk again, sir? Rolling in the gutter? And on your birthday
too!
_Jack._ Dad--
_Dad._ Look at him! A hundred and eighty dollars I pay to a Broadway
tailor to make this young hopeful an overcoat, and look at what he
does with it! I prepare a birthday party, and invite all his
friends, and see the condition in which he comes to welcome them! Do
you wonder my patience is exhausted? Do you wonder--
_Jessie._ Dad, you don't understand!
_Dad._ No, I don't understand! How could I be expected to
understand? How can an old man hope to keep up with a youth so
brilliant--a youth who goes to college and ties firecrackers to the
tails of goats! A youth who comes on his birthday looking like a
tramp--
_Jessie._ Listen, Dad--this is a joke--
_Dad._ Everything's a joke to my son! But I tell you I'm tired of
his jokes. I mean to make him understand that his days of tomfoolery
are over! Do you realize it--here he is, twenty-one years of age,
when he should be coming into possession of the fortune his mother
left him--and he's tying fire-crackers to the tails of goats! And
I--I am trustee of the money, and have to decide whether he's fit to
have it or not! I know that if I give it to him I ruin him for
life--I start him on a career of drunkenness and idleness! Look at
him as he stands there--and imagine him the owner of a quarter of a
million dollars! And under his mother's will the only choice I have
is to give it to him, or turn it over to a Home for Cats!
_Jessie._ Please, Dad!
_Dad._ Can I honestly say that one is more foolish than the other?
Wouldn't I be helping him if I gave the money to the cats, and let
my son go out and earn his living as best he can? Let him go down to
my office and earn his twelve dollars a week, the same as any other
young jackass--
_Jack (stepping forward)._ Dad, don't you really think it's time you
let me get a word in?
_Dad._ I'm tired of your words, young man.
_Jack._ You won't be troubled with them any more. I'm going to take
myself out of your way. I don't want your quarter of a million
dollars, and I don't want your twelve a week.
_Dad._ Indeed, sir! And what may this mean?
_Jack._ It means that I'm going out into the world as a hobo.
_Dad. What?_
_Jack._ That's it!
_Dad._ Clever! Upon my word, a clever scheme! _(To the others.)_
Look at him! The nerve of him! He knows he's misbehaved, and that
I'll be angry--so he goes and puts on a masquerade costume, and
tries to frighten me with a threat of turning hobo!
_Jessie._ Dad, it isn't that! He means to go!
_Dad._ I don't doubt that he means to go! But how long do you think
he means to stay?
_Jack._ Six months, Dad.
_Dad (scornfully)._ Six months! It won't be six days before I'll he
getting bills to pay for you!
_Jack._ You'll get no bills from me, Dad. I'm not going to use your
name.
_Dad._ How long will it he before I hear you've been borrowing money
from your friends?
_Bob._ You must listen, Dad. Jack and I are making a wager. He's to
go out in my hobo clothes and he's not to use his own name--he's not
to see any of his old friends, nor to communicate with them. He's to
depend absolutely on his own efforts--to shift for himself for six
months. That's the bargain.
_Dad._ And do you imagine he'll keep it?
_Bob._ I believe he'll try.
_Dad (gazes from one to the other; then with sudden vehemence)._
Very well! You can let me in on that bargain!
_Jack._ How do you mean?
_Dad._ Make your wager with me--I'll give you a stake to play for! A
stake that will make the game worth while!
_Jack._ What stake, Dad?
_Dad._ A quarter of a million dollars! Your mother's property.
_Jessie._ Dad!
_Dad._ I mean what I say! As God is my witness, I'll stand by what I
say! You go out of here to-night with your hobo clothes and you
shift for yourself for six months. If I find out that you've told a
soul whose son you are, or that you've used my name or your own name
to get a cent of money or a job, or even so much as a ham sandwich;
or if you come home before the six months is up, or write to one of
us, or to any one else for help--as sure as I live, it will cost you
a quarter of a million dollars.
_Jessie._ Dad, that is wicked.
_Dad._ It will cost him a quarter of a million dollars! I'll take
the money the same day and turn it over to the Home for Cats! Do you
get that, young man?
_Jack._ Yes, I get it, and it's a bargain!
_Dad._ Very well, sir. Now good luck to you!
_Jack._ Good-bye, Bob. Good-bye, Jessie.
_Jessie (rushing to him)._ Jack, I can't let you go!
_Jack._ Don't touch me, Jessie. You'll ruin your dress.
_Bob._ Let her kiss you, Jack. She'll be the last girl that offers
for some time.
_Jack (to Jessie)._ Be sensible, dear. I won't let any harm come to
me.
_Bob._ Get one of the fast freights, Jack.
_Jack._ No freights in mine--New York will do. There's some money
still lying around in this old town, I've an idea.
_Dad (sarcastically)._ He'll be king of the shoe-string
peddlers--the walking delegate of the Hobos' Union!
_Jack._ You may laugh, Dad, but I know I'm not such a fool as I
seem. Maybe it'll take me more than six months, but I think I can
convince you in the end that I can make my way.
_Dad._ Maybe you'll not want the quarter of a million at all!
_Jack._ Oh, an extra quarter of a million would always come in
handy. But we'll settle that when I return, Dad. For the present,
I've got the world to conquer.
_Bob._ Bow down, world!
_Jack._ What I say is: Come on, world! _(with a gesture of
defiance)_ I'm ready for you! I'll show you what I can do. Good-bye!
_(exit suddenly Left)_
_Jessie._ Jack! Jack! Oh, how perfectly terrible! This cold night,
and no money! What will he do?
_Bob._ There's many another man out there with no money. What do
_they_ do?
_Jessie._ Bob, I _hate_ you!
_Dad._ It'll be the very thing for the young scapegrace--if he'll
stick to it.
_Jessie._ But how will he live, Dad?
_Dad._ Live? Wasn't I a poor boy when I came to the city? And didn't
I manage to make a fortune? Let him do what I did!
_Jessie._ But you were used to hardships, Dad!
_Dad._ Used to it? Of course I was--and why shouldn't _he_ be? Why
is he too good to work like other men?
_Jessie (pleading)_ Oh, Dad--_(Sudden loud sounds in Real-play,
Right; piano and voices shouting chorus of the latest rag-time.
Play-play fades instantly.)_
_Will._ Hell and damnation! There go the devils with their
coon-songs! _(leaps up with distracted gestures)_ Oh! Oh! Oh!
_Peggy (laughing, runs to window--and tries to close it; sounds
continue)._
_Will._ The monsters! The fiends! The satellites of Satan!
_Peggy. (laughing)._ The window's stuck! Come put it down, dear.
_Will._ The window's always stuck when that mad-house opens up!
_Bill (waking)._ Ah----
_Will._ What's that?
_Peggy._ It's Bill waking _(runs to him)._
_Bill (sitting up)._ Oh!
_Peggy._ They woke you up, dear!
_Bill._ I'm glad of it!
_Will._ Hello! Bill!
_Bill._ Oh, hello! You got back, did you!
_Will._ Yes.
_Bill._ Say, Will, listen to the music!
_Will._ I hear it.
_Bill (delightedly)._ Gee! That's great, ain't it?
_Will._ You like it?
Bill. You bet I like it! Say, I know that tune! The beggar-kid sings
it every time he comes. _(Sits up in bed and keeps time with his
finger. Chorus begins and he joins in at the top of his voice.)_
CURTAIN
ACT II.
_Scene: The attic, afternoon of the next day. The set of the
Playplay is a cheap Third Avenue restaurant. Entrance from the
street Center, also window with cashier's desk beside it. Tables up
stage, from Right to Left. Entrance to kitchen Left. Clock on wall
shows 11:30._
_At rise: The Real-play, with Bill Right on the fire-escape, sitting
on mattress taken from his cot. Will Left with Mss. at desk. Peggy
talking to Bill. She wears a "bungalow-apron," covering a waitress's
costume for quick change._
_Peggy_. That's a dandy big fire-escape to play on!
_Bill_. You bet!
_Peggy_. You've got all your blocks?
_Bill_. Yes, Peggy.
_Peggy_. And your picture-books?
_Bill_. Yes, Peggy.
_Peggy_. And you won't lean over the railing?
_Bill_. I won't.
_Peggy_ (_to Will_). Now to the Pot-boiler!
_Will_. It's a shame to keep the child out there on the fire-escape.
_Peggy_. He'll be all right, dear. It's the coolest place there is.
_Will_. If only we could get him to the park--
_Peggy_. I know, but we can't. (_Sits at table._) Now--you've got
the second act already?
_Will_. Yes. Read it, and I'll get the dishes washed for you. (_Exit
left_.)
_Peggy_ (_reads manuscript_). What's this? You've got a
drop-curtain?
_Will_ (_off; rattling dishes_). Yes; I want to show Jack's
adventures. Read the directions.
_Peggy_ (_reads_). Jack has been hunting a job, and has been unable
to find one. The drop-curtain shows a street-scene. (_The Play-play
begins to loom, as described._) A row of houses, just off Fifth
Avenue, having the front door on the street level in the modern
fashion. It is evening, and the ground is covered with snow. The
snow-shoveller is at work Right. His feet and hands are tied with
rags and his face is red with cold. (_The Play-play in full light._)
_Jack_ (_enters Left in hobo-overcoat, shuffling, and dejected_). I
beg your pardon--
_Shoveller_. Hey?
_Jack_. I beg your pardon--
_Shoveller_. What the devil ye beggin' me pardon for?
_Jack_. I--I want to know--is that your shovel?
_Shoveller_. Whose d'ye think it is?
_Jack_. I mean--where did you get it?
_Shoveller_ (_bridling_). You mean I stole it?
_Jack_. No--no! I mean, I'd like to get one. (_The other pays no
heed._) You see, I'm up against it, and I thought perhaps I could
earn money shovelling snow. I'd like to get a shovel. (_The other
still pays no heed._) You wouldn't like to rent it for a while,
would you?
_Shoveller_ (_with mock merriment_). And me live on me income, hey?
_Jack. I might help you, perhaps--
_Shoveller_. Say, young fellow, if you really want to help me, get a
hot water bottle an' hold it to me feet!
_Jack (stands nonplussed, then turns away Left; as he is about to
exit he changes his mind, and rings the bell at the door of a house
Left. Butler comes_) I beg pardon--
_Butler_. Well, what d'ya want?
_Jack_. Could I shovel the snow off your sidewalk?
_Butler_ (_fiercely_). What d'ye mean by comin' to the front door?
_Jack_. Oh, I forgot.
_Butler_. Gow an with ye!
_Jack_. Won't you give me a chance?
_Butler_. Where's your shovel?
_Jack_. Why--I haven't a shovel.
_Butler_. Well, what d'ya mean to use? Your hands?
_Jack_. I thought you might lend me--
_Butler_. Lend you! And me standin' out in the snow to watch ye
return it, hey?
_Jack_ (_humbly_). I won't steal anything. I'm trying honestly to
earn the price of a shovel.
_Butler_. If ye didn't spend your money in drink, ye might have the
price.
_Jack_. I haven't had anything to drink--nor anything to eat either.
_Butler_. Well, we ain't runnin' no breadline 'ere. Get along with
ye! _(Slams door.)_
_Jack (stands shaking his head meditatively)_ Gee! This is a cold
world!
_Shoveller_. Say, young fellow! I'll tell ye what to do.
_Jack_. What's that?
_Shoveller_. Come back in August. Ye'll find it warmer.
_Jack (wanders off muttering to himself)._ I've got to get a shovel!
_Bill (appears at window Right)_. Say, Peggy! _(The Play-play
vanishes.)_
_Peggy_. What is it, dear?
_Bill_. Can I have my paper soldiers?
_Peggy_. Yes, dear. _(Hurries to get them.)_ Now be quiet, Bill. I'm
busy now.
_Bill_. Where is Will?
_Peggy_. Washing the dishes.
_Bill_. Can't I help him?
_Peggy_. No, dear--we've got to talk about this play we're writing.
Here are the soldiers.
_Bill_. All right. _(Exit Right.)_
_Peggy (goes to entrance Left where dishes are heard rattling)_. How
are you making out?
_Will (off Left)_. What do you think of my opening scenes?
_Peggy_. Why, I think they could be better. You see, Will, you don't
really know anything about snow-shovellers or butlers.
_Will_ (_appears_ in doorway Left, wiping a dish_). I've got a real
character for the next scene at least. I used Bill!
_Peggy_. For heaven's sake!
_Will_. As a street-gamin.
_Peggy_. But Bill's not like a street-gamin. Such a child is full of
slang.
_Will_. I thought of what Bill might have been if he'd been turned
out to shift for himself. I imagined the soul of a street-gamin in
the body of our Bill.
_Peggy_. That sounds rather terrible. (_A pause_.) By the way, Will!
That love-interest you said was to come! Where is it?
_Will_. I've hardly got into the act yet.
_Peggy_. Well, you'd better get into your love-interest!
_Will_. The next scene is to be another dropcurtain. A restaurant.
I'm using that one down our street. Read it. (_He disappears Left.
The Play-play begins to appear_.)
_Peggy_ (_reads_). Scene shows a cheap restaurant on Third Avenue.
Piles of shredded wheat and charlotte russe in the windows. Night
scene, snow on ground. (_Full light on the Play-play_.)
_Bill_ (_wanders on Right, stops and gazes into window_). Gee, but
that's great lookin' shredded wheat!
_Jack_ (_enters Left, dejected-looking, and joins Bill_). You
hungry, too, kid?
_Bill._ I could eat the whole hay-stack at one meal. (_Moves along
to another part of the window._) Holy smoke, if they'd turn me loose
in them charlotte-russes!
_Jack._ I wonder how many charlotte russes a man could eat at one
meal.
_Bill._ Say, I wisht I was a rich man! I'd go youse a race at 'em!
(_A silence; turns away._) Gee, I can't bear to look at 'em any
more!
_Jack_ (_joins him down stage_). When did you eat last?
_Bill._ I had sinkers and coffee this mornin'. What did youse have?
_Jack._ I had a glass of water in the public library.
_Bill._ Hully gee! And when did youse eat last?
_Jack._ Yesterday morning I had a slice of bread.
_Bill_ (_startled_). Gawd a'mighty! That all?
_Jack._ True as gospel.
_Bill_ (_warming to him_). Why say! Youse _are_ up agin it!
_Jack._ I am, for fair.
_Bill._ What's the matter?
_Jack._ Can't find any work.
_Bill._ Work? T'hell with work! Why don't yous slam the gates?
_Jack._ Why don't I _what?_
_Bill._ I mean, why don't youse panhandle it?
_Jack._ I don't understand.
_Bill._ Gee! Where was youse raised--in the hayfields? I mean, why
don't youse git up a hard luck story?
_Jack._ Beg?
_Bill._ Sure!
_Jack._ I tried it some, but nobody'll listen to me.
_Bill._ Why, youse poor helpless orphan! Somebody ought to take
youse in hand and show youse.
_Jack (eagerly)._ Do you suppose you could do it?
_Bill._ Sure I could--teach youse in an hour or two!
_Jack (hesitatingly)._ But you don't make so very much yourself, do
you!
_Bill._ Sure I do--I got lots o' the stuff. Only I got a step-father
I have to keep full of booze. He'll be out lookin' for me now, I
reckon. _(Looks about sharply)._ Say, youse come back here after a
bit. I'll go an' get him spotted, an' then we'll frame up a good
hard-luck story, an' we'll get the price of that there hay-stack.
You get me, old pal?
_Jack._ Yes, I get you--only I'll freeze in the meantime.
_Bill._ Youse keep movin'. Hustle along now!
_Jack._ All right. _(Goes off Left stamping his feet, blowing his
fingers.)_
_Bill._ Youse come back now! Don't fergit! _(Stands looking after
Jack.)_ Gee! I like that guy!
_Peggy._ Will! _(Faint light on the Real-play.)_
_Will. (Off.)_ What is it?
_Peggy._ You're sending him off! But where's the heart interest?
_Will._ It's coming right now!
_Peggy._ What's it to be?
_Will (appears Left with dishes in arms)._ Why, dearest, there's
only one thing it could be!
_Peggy._ What is that?
_Will._ You know I have only one heart-interest!
_Peggy (looks at him, then rises and steps to him, with Mss. in her
hand)._ You dear, sweet boy?
_Will (steps back out of sight)._ Look out for my dishes! _(as Peggy
follows off, sounds of kisses heard)_ My heart-interest! My dear,
blessed heart-interest! My only heart-interest in the world! _(Full
light rises slowly on the Play-play. The door of restaurant opens,
and Peggy appears in the entrance, as Belle, with a waitress's
costume. She stands gazing out, as if getting breath of fresh air,
being ill. Then she draws back and closes the door.)_
_Jack (enters Left)._ Gee, I never thought it would be as bad as
this! _(goes to window of restaurant)_ I've got to get something to
eat--there's no use talking about it! I don't believe that kid is
coming back! I don't believe he could help me, anyway! _(wanders
back and forth again, goes to door, hesitates)_ I want something to
_eat!_ I don't care what happens, I can't stand it! _(enters door of
restaurant)._
_Bill (pokes head in from fire-escape)._ Say, Peggy! (_Play-play
fades._)
_Peggy (appears in doorway, Left, having Mss. in her hand)._ Oh,
Bill! You startled me so!
_Bill._ What's the matter?
_Peggy._ I thought you, were out in the snow!
_Bill._ In the SNOW.
_Peggy._ Why, you see--
_Bill._ Snow in the middle of July?
_Peggy._ Why, you see, dear, Will is writing a play, and the play is
supposed to be in winter, and he's got you in the snow.
_Bill (in excitement). Me? Me_ in Will's play!
_Peggy._ Yes.
_Bill._ Oh, say! What's he doin' to me?
_Peggy._ I'll tell you all about it when he's finished.
_Bill._ Say! I got to see that play!
_Peggy._ Oh, surely!
_Bill (seriously)._ Suppose I don't like what he's done to me!
_Peggy (to Will, who appears Left, wiping a dish)._ Another critic,
Will! (_to Bill_) Now you must let us alone. Climb out, dear, and
don't disturb us again until we're done.
_Bill._ All right. I'll hold my breath (_climbs out_).
_Will._ Well, what do you think of it?
_Peggy._ Let's go on; I want to see more. (_They sit at the desk._)
_Will._ The next is the interior of the restaurant. You know just
how it looks--the one down our street. I've got to use two more
characters from real life. First, that big Irish policeman on our
beat. I must talk to him some more and make sure I've got his
dialect right.
_Peggy._ You never would have talked to him at all, if I hadn't put
you up to it!
_Will._ Then, there's the restaurant keeper. For him I took Schmidt,
our grocer.
_Peggy._ You _have_ to talk to Schmidt--because we can't pay his
bills!
_Will._ I see him sitting at the cashier's desk, reading a paper.
_(Interior of restaurant, with Schmidt.)_ It's nearly midnight, you
see, and there's only one customer. _(Full light on Play-play. Peggy
and Will make quick secret exit.)_
_Schmidt._ Vell, dis is vun bad night for business! _(Customer
grunts, having mouth full.)_ I tink ve have too much snow already
dis vinter! _(Customer grunts again.)_ You have some dessert, sir?
Vere is dot vaitress hey? _(Calls.)_ Hey, you! Belle!
_Belle (off Left)._ Yes, sir!
_Schmidt._ Vy you don't stay in de room by de customers? Hey?
_Belle (enters, evidently weak and ill, supports herself by the
chair)._ I--I was busy, sir.
_Schmidt._ Vell, you stay busy by de customers!
_Jack (enters from street, hesitating)._ I beg pardon--
_Schmidt._ Hey?
_Jack._ Can I get something to eat?
_Schmidt._ Vy not?
_Jack._ It's late.
_Schmidt._ Ve close by midnight.
_Jack. (hesitates again, looks at clock, then goes to table. Belle
brings napkin, etc., mechanically. He looks at card)._ I'll have a
beef-stew. _(Hesitates.)_ I think I'll have a double order.
_Belle._ Yes, sir.
_Jack._ And a cup of coffee.
_Belle._ Yes, sir. _(Goes Left feebly. Customer rises, pays check
and exit. Belle brings order, and Jack begins to eat voraciously.
Suddenly Belle staggers and catches at a chair. He starts.)_
_Jack._ Why, you're ill!
_Belle (faintly)._ No, sir! No!
_Jack._ But you are!
_Belle (gazing in terror at Schmidt, who is reading)._ Ssh! Mr.
Schmidt will hear you.
_Jack (hesitates, then begins to eat again, but keeping an eye on
Belle, who makes desperate efforts to keep steady)._
_Schmidt (looks up from paper, gazes through window and rises)._ Vat
for a night for business! _(Goes Left, yawning; exit.)_
_Jack (still eating rapidly)._ You _have_ to work?
_Belle_. Of course!
_Jack_. Have you no friends--no people?
_Belle_ (_hesitates_). I'm not supposed to talk to customers.
_Jack_. But I'm asking you questions.
_Belle_ (_gazing nervously Left_). Yes, but I mustn't talk. (_She
clutches chair_.)
_Jack_ (_springs up_). My God, you're done up. Sit down.
_Belle_ (_in terror_). No, no, no! He'll hear you! He'd not keep me
if he thought I was sick.
_Jack_. Damn his soul! Have you no one to take care of you?
_Belle_. I have a sister, sir. But she can't earn enough for two.
Please let me be.
_Jack_. Poor little girl!
_Belle_. I'll be all right. It's near closing time. I'm
tired--that's all.
_Jack_. What time do you come on?
_Belle_. At ten o'clock, sir.
_Jack_. What, in the morning?
_Belle_. Yes.
_Jack_. Fourteen hours! And you have to stand up?
_Belle_. Of course.
_Jack_. The whole time?
_Belle_. Oh, no! I have time for two meals.
_Jack_. And that's all?
_Belle_. It's the same everywhere, sir. They don't like you to sit
down. It wouldn't look right. (_Seeing Schmidt entering Left_). Will
you have some dessert, sir?
_Jack_. No, not yet. (_He finishes food, then turns to Schmidt,
hesitatingly_.) See here, my friend.
_Belle_ (_in terror_). No, no!
_Jack_ (_waving her aside_). I'm sorry, my friend, but I'm afraid
you'll have to have me arrested.
_Schmidt_. Hey? Vot?
_Jack_. You'll have to have me arrested.
_Schmidt_. Vot you mean?
_Jack_. I mean--I've eaten a meal and I haven't any money to pay for
it.
_Schmidt_. No money!
_Jack_. Not a cent.
_Schmidt_. Aber--vy--how you dare?
_Jack_. I was starving. I have walked the streets for two days
begging for work, and I can't find any. I am wet, chilled to the
bone, exhausted. Look at me----
_Schmidt_ (_in excitement_). Vot I got to do mit your looks?
_Jack_. I had to have something to eat.
_Schmidt_. But vy should _I_ feed you? Vy you come by _me_?
_Jack_. I'll work for you, if I may.
_Schmidt_. Vork? I don't vant no vork! I got all the vork as I need.
I vant customers!
_Jack._ You'll have to have me arrested, then.
_Schmidt._ Arrested? Vot good will it do me if I have you arrested?
You tink I earn my living by having you arrested? Mein Gott in
Himmel, vot----
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