The Flutter of the Goldleaf; and Other Plays Part 2

_Warner_

Reba'll have one, all right. If Philo stays queer it'll be hard on the girl, won't it?

_Mrs. W._

He'll not stay queer. If he gets that girl in his head there won't be room for anything else--for a while anyway. He'll be worse'n you ever was. You let me manage it, Hiram.

(PHILO _is heard coming up the stairs. They listen in silence until he enters. He is talking, not quite audibly, to himself, and doesn't see them. Goes to table and stands by machine._)

_Philo_

Here--at last--I have caught the word ... the word of the stars.

_Mrs. W._

Philo!

_Philo_ (_looking up_)

Mother!... Father!... (_In alarm._) You haven't touched anything here?

_Mrs. W._

No, my son. I've just put the place to rights a bit. Dr. Seymour is coming, you know.

_Philo_

Yes. (_Walks the floor, meditating._)

_Warner_

You must come out of this dream, Philo.

_Philo_

It is not a dream! I am the only being in the world who is awake!

_Mrs. W._

My son!

_Philo_

Man sleeps--like the rocks, trees, hills--while all around him, out of the unseen, beating on blind eyes, deaf ears, numbed brain, sweep the winds of eternity, the ether waves, the signals from the deeps of s.p.a.ce!

_Warner_

Hey, diddle, diddle!

_Philo_

Sleep-walkers all--the people in the streets, the shops--the mad people with their heaps of gold!

_Mrs. W._

Now don't work yourself up, Philo, with the doctor coming. You want to tell him about your machine.

_Philo_

Yes. He is a great man. He has studied these things. I will talk to him.

He will not laugh.

_Warner_

Mary Ann, don't you think we'd better bring up some cider? It'll look more hospitable like.

_Mrs. W._

That city doctor won't care anything about cider.

_Warner_

My cider's good enough for anybody! And Dr. Bellows'll be sure to ask for it.

_Mrs. W._

Well, wait till he does. (_Looks uneasily about room._) Don't you think, son, that if you're going to take to having visitors here I'd better move some furniture up? You could have the haircloth sofa--the springs are broke anyway--and Alice says she don't want the wax flowers in the parlor any more. They're turnin' yellow, but you wouldn't notice it up here.

_Philo_ (_clinching his hands_)

Do what you like, mother, only don't take anything _out_. If anything happened to my work I believe I'd go crazy!

(_The parents look at each other._)

_Warner_

Thought your work was tendin' the store.

_Philo_

Brother Will is more help there than I am, father.

_Warner_

You're right about that. Will's got a head on.

_Mrs. W._