Writing for Vaudeville Part 87

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MRS. WILSON: I don't see why you should feel sad, Chlorinda.

CHLORINDA: You don't? Well, jes' listen to some of dese. (Reads from a stack of cards, one tombstone inscription being written on each card.)

"Here lies the body of Michael Burke, who lost his life while dodging work."

"I loved my mother, I hated to leave her, but what can you do with the typhoid fever? "

"Mamma loves Papa, and Papa loves women; Mamma saw Papa with two girls in swimmin'."

"Here lies the mother of 28; there might have been more, but now it's too late."

"Shed a few tears for Matty Mack, a trolley car hit her a slap in the back."

"Here lies my poor wife much lamented. She's happy and--well, I am contented."

"Here lies the body of Martin Brown. He was blown in the air and he never came down."

"Willie Greene, sad regrets--aged 9--cigarettes."

(Enter MR. MAYNARD from house.)

MAYNARD: Won't you step inside the house, Mrs. Wilson--I mean Alice--and have a gla.s.s of birthday punch with the other ladies?

MRS. WILSON: Delighted, I'm sure. (Exits into house.)

CHLORINDA: Won't I get punch, too?

MAYNARD: Yes, if you don't get back to your work, you'll get a punch in the jaw in about another minute.

MAYNARD: I hope some one comes along soon with a savage dog. I'd rather go to Charlie Doolittle's funeral than to a picnic. (Looks off toward house.) Ah, there is Mrs. Wilson. How beautiful she is. I think this is my golden chance to propose to her. (Exits into house.)

(Enter HARVEY at centre, pulling FELIX in by chain fastened around his neck. FELIX now wears a dog's head and body.)

HARVEY: (Aside to FELIX.) Now remember, all you have got to do is to act like a savage dog, and after I collect the money from Mr.

Maynard, you'll get yours.

FELIX: (Removing dog's head.) I hope I don't get it where I've got this collar.

HARVEY: Oh, you'll get it all right.

FELIX: (Starting to leave stage.) I'm going home.

HARVEY: (Catching him by chain.) Here, here, where are you going?

FELIX: I don't like the way you say, "Oh, you'll get it."

HARVEY: Oh, that's all right. And now whatever you do, act like a dog.

(FELIX tries to nip HARVEY'S leg, but he springs aside and says.) Delighted. Why, you're commencing to feel like a dog already.

FELIX: When do I get something to eat?

HARVEY: Very shortly now.

(Sees MAYNARD coming from house.) Quick, put on your dog's head, for here comes Mr. Maynard.

(Enter MAYNARD.)

MAYNARD: (To HARVEY.) Well, sir, and what can I do for you?

HARVEY: Your servant told me you were looking for a ferocious dog and I think I have an animal that will just suit you.

MAYNARD: Yes, I do want a savage dog, and if you have such a beast we can do business together.

FELIX: (Aside.) Now, I'm a beast.

(HARVEY kicks at FELIX to get him to shut up.)

HARVEY: (Pointing to FELIX.) This animal is so ferocious that if anyone should come across his path at night when he is unchained he would tear him limb from limb.

MAYNARD: (Noticing FELIX.) Is this the dog?

HARVEY: (Rubbing his hands.) Yes, sir, and if you searched the world over, you couldn't find a more savage high-bred animal. He is full of animation.

MAYNARD: (Scratching himself.) I think he is full of fleas. But, tell me, what do you ask for him?

HARVEY: One thousand dollars.

MAYNARD: That's a lot of money.

HARVEY: Not for this dog.

MAYNARD: Perhaps I ought to explain to you what I want the dog for.

HARVEY: I daresay you feel lonely for a companion.

MAYNARD: No, sir; I want a dog for my daughter, sir, to keep off a worthless, good-for-nothing dude who comes pestering around here after her because he knows that her father has a lot of money, and thinks that if he marries his daughter he can move to Easy Street.

HARVEY: I see; he is looking for a soft snap.

MAYNARD: That's it, but I'll fool him. I want a dog that will chew him up into pieces if he ever dares to set his foot inside my garden gate again.

HARVEY: My dog will suit you exactly.

MAYNARD: But a thousand dollars is an awful lot of money.

HARVEY: Not for this animal. In the first place, you never have to feed him.

Writing for Vaudeville Part 87

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Writing for Vaudeville Part 87 summary

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