ACT II

SCENE—Dining-room of the MILLER home—a little after 6

o'clock in the evening of the same day.

MRS. MILLER: Norah.

NORAH: Yes, Mum.

MRS. MILLER (worriedly): Careful!

NORAH: Careful as can be, Mum.

MRS. MILLER: Now you will try to remember, won't you?

NORAH: Yes, Mum.

LILY: Here, let me do that, Essie.

MRS. MILLER (gratefully): Thank you, Lily. It's a stretch

for me, I'm getting so fat.

LILY: But where's Norah? Why didn't she—?

MRS. MILLER (exasperatedly): Oh, that girl! Don't talk

about her! She will be the death of me. She's that thick..

You honestly wouldn't believe it possible.

LILY (smiling): Why, what did she do now?

MRS. MILLER: Oh, nothing. She means all right.

LILY: Anything else I can do, Essie?

MRS . .MILLER : Well, she's got the table all wrong. We'll

have to reset it. But you're always helping me. It isn't

fair to ask you—in your vacation. You need your rest

after teaching a pack of wild Indians of kids all year.

LILY (beginning to help with the table): You know I love

to help. It makes me feel I'm some use in this house instead

of just sponging—

MRS . MILLER (indignantly): Sponging! You pay, don't you?

LILY: Almost nothing. And you and Nat only take that

little to make me feel better about living with you.

(Forcing a smile) I don't see how you stand me—having

a cranky old maid around all the time.

MRS. MILLER: As if Nat and I

weren't only too tickled to death to have you! Lily

Miller, I've no patience with you when you go on like

that. We've been over this a thousand times before, and

still you go on! Crazy, that's what it is! (She changes

the subject abruptly) What time's it getting to be?

LILY (looking at her watch) : Quarter past six.

MRS. MILLER: I do hope those men folks aren't going to be

late for dinner. (She sighs) But I suppose with that

darned Sachem Club picnic it's more likely than not.

I see you've got your new dress on.

LILY (embarrassedly): Yes, I thought—if Sid's taking me

to the fireworks—I ought to spruce up a little.

MRS. MIILLER (looking away):' Hmm. You mustn't mind if

Sid comes home feeling a bit—gay. I expect Nat to and

we'll have to listen to all those old stories of his

about when he was a boy. You know what those picnics

are, and Sid'd be running into all his old friends.

LILY (agitatedly): I don't think he will—this time—not

after his promise.

MRS. MILLER (avoiding looking at her): I know. But men

are weak. (Then quickly) That was a good notion of

Nat's, getting Sid the job on the Waterbury Standard.

All he ever needed was to get away from the rut he was

in here. He's the kind that's the victim of his friends.

He's easily led—but there's no real harm in him, you

know that. He's making good money in Waterbury,

too—thirty-five a week. He's in a better

position to get married than he ever was.

LILY (stiffly): Well, I hope he finds a woman who's willing—

though after he's through with his betting on horse

races, and dice, and playing Kelly pool, there won't be

much left for a wife—even if there was nothing else he

spent his money on.

MRS. MILLER : Oh, he'd give up all that—for the right

woman. Lily, why don't you change your mind and marry Sid and

reform him? You love him and always have—

LILY (stiffly): I can't love a man who drinks.

MRS. MILLER: You can't fool me. I know darned well you

love him. And he loves you and always has.

LILY: Never enough to stop drinking for.

No, it's no good in your talking,

Essie. We've been over this a thousand times before and

I'll always feel the same as long as Sid's the same. If he

gave me proof he'd—but even then I don't believe I

could. It's sixteen years since I broke off our engagement,

but what made me break it off is as clear to me today as

it was then. It was what he'd be liable to do now to anyone

who married him—his taking up with bad women.

MRS. MILLER (protests half-heartedly): But he's always

sworn he got raked into that party and never had any

thing to do with those harlots.

LILY: Well, I don't believe him—didn't then and don't

now. I do believe he didn't deliberately plan to, but—

Oh, it's no good talking, Essie. What's done is done. But

you know how much I like Sid—in spite of everything.

I know he was just born to be what he is—irresponsible.

But don't talk to me about marrying him—because I

never could.

MRS. MILLER (angrily): He 's a dumb fool—a stupid dumb,

that's what he is!

LILY (quietly) : No. He's just Sid.

MRS. MILLER: It's a shame for you—a measly shame—you

that would have made such a wonderful wife for any

man—that ought to have your own home and children!

LILY: Now don't you go feeling sorry for me. I won't

have that. Here I am, thanks to your and Nat's kindness,

with the best home in the world; and as for the children,

I feel the same love for yours as if they were mine, and I

didn't have the pain of bearing them. And then there are

all the boys and girls I teach every year. I like to feel

I'm a sort of second mother to them and helping them

to grow up to be good men and women. So I don't feel

such a useless old maid, after all.

MRS. MILLER (kisses her impulsively—her voice husky):

You're a good woman, Lily—too good for the rest of us.

Good gracious, if I'm not forgetting

one of the most important things! I've got to warn

that Tommy against giving me away to Nat about the

fish. He knows, because I had to send him to market for

it, and he's liable to burst out laughing

LILY: Laughing about what?

MRS. MILLER (guiltily): Well, I've never told you, because

it seemed sort of a sneaking trick, but you know how Nat

carries on about not being able to eat bluefish.

LILY: I know he says there's a certain oil in it that poisons

him.

MRS. MILLER (chuckling): Poisons him, nothing! He's

been eating bluefish for years—only I tell him each time

it's weakfish. We're having it tonight—and I've got to

warn that young imp to keep his face straight.

LILY (laughing) : Aren't you ashamed, Essie!

MRS. MILLER: Not much, I'm not! I like bluefish! (She

laughs) Where is Tommy? In the sitting-room?

LILY: No, Richard's there alone. I think Tommy's out on

the piazza with Mildred. (RICHARD appears from the back parlor.)

Feel any better, Richard?

RICHARD (somberly): I'm all right, Aunt Lily. You mustn't

worry about me.

LILY (going to him): But I do worry about you. I hate to

see you so upset.

RICHARD: It doesn't matter. Nothing matters.

LILY (sympathetically): You really mustn't let yourself take it so

seriously. You know, something happens and things like that

come up, and we think there 's no hope—

RICHARD: Things like what come up?

LILY: What's happened between you and Muriel.

RICHARD (with disdain): Oh , her! I wasn't even thinking

about her. I was thinking about life.

LILY: But then—if we really, really love—why, then something

else is bound to happen soon that changes everything

again, and it's all as it was before the misunderstanding,

and everything works out all right in the end.

That's the way it is with life.

RICHARD (with a tragic sneer): Life! Life is a joke! And

everything comes out all wrong in the end!

LILY (a little shocked): You mustn't talk that way. But I

know you don't mean it.

RICHARD: I. do too. mean it! You can have your silly optimism,

if you like, Aunt Lily. But don 't ask me to be

so blind. I'm a pessimist! (Then with an air of cruel

cynicism) As for Muriel, that's all dead and past. I was

only kidding her, anyway, just to have a little fun, and

she took it seriously, like a fool. You know what they say

about women and trolley cars, Aunt Lily:

there's always another one along in a minute.

LILY (really shocked this time): I don't like you when

you say such horrible, cynical things. It isn't nice.

RICHARD: Nice! That's all you women think of! I'm proud

to be a cynic. It's the only thing you can be when you

really face life. I suppose you think I ought to be heartbroken

about Muriel—a little coward that's afraid to say

her soul's her own, and keeps tied to her father's apron

strings! Well, not for mine! There's plenty of other fish

in the sea!

MRS . MILLER: Why, hello. You here, Richard? Getting

hungry, I suppose?

RICH ARD (indignantly) : I'm not hungry a bit! That's all

you think of, Ma—food!

MRS. MILLER: Well, I must say I've never noticed you to

hang back at meal times. (To LILY) What' s that he was

saying about fish in the sea ?

LILY (smiling) : He says he's through with Muriel now.

MRS. M ILLER: She's through with him, he means! The idea of your

sending a nice girl like her things out of those indecent

books! Where are you going ?

RICH ARD (quotes from "Candida" in a hollow voice) : "Out,

then, into the night with me!"

MRS. MILLER (calls): Well, don't you go far, 'cause dinner'lI

be ready in a minute, and I'm not coming running

after you! Goodness, that boy! He ought to be on the stage! (She mimics)

"Out—into the night"—and it isn't even dark yet! He

got that out of one of those books, I suppose. Do you

know, I'm actually grateful to old Dave McComber for

putting an end to his nonsense with Muriel. I never did

approve of Richard getting so interested in girls. He's

not old enough for such silliness. Why, seems to me it

was only yesterday he was still a baby.

Well, nothing to do now till those men

turn up. No use standing here like gawks. We might as

well go in the sitting-room and be comfortable.

LILY: Yes, we might as well.

RICHARD (stands inside the door, looking after them—quotes

bitterly): "They do not know the secret in the poet's

heart." Food! Oh, hello, Wint. Come on in.

WINT (in a low tone): Keep it quiet, Kid.

I don't want the folks to know I'm here. Tell

Art I want to see him a second—on the Q.T.

RICHARD: Can't. He's up at the Rands'—won't be home before

ten, anyway.

WINT (irritably): Damn, I thought he'd be here for dinner.

(More irritably) Hell, that gums the works for fair!

RICHARD (ingratiatingly): What is it, Wint? Can't I help?

WINT (gives him an appraising glance): I might tell you,

if you can keep your face shut.

RICHARD: I can.

WINT: Well, I ran into a couple of swift babies from New

Haven this after, and I dated them up for tonight, thinking

I could catch Art. But now it's too late to get anyone

else and I'll have to pass it up. I'm nearly broke and I

can't afford to blow them both to drinks.

RICHARD (with shy eagerness) : I've got eleven dollars saved

up. I could loan you some.

WINT: Say, you're a good sport. Nix, Kid, I don't want

to borrow your money. (Then getting an idea) But say,

have you got anything on for tonight?

RICHARD: No.

WINT: Want to come along with me? You don't have to do anything,

not even take a glass of beer—unless you want to.

RICHARD (boastfully): Aw, what do you think I am—a

rube?

WINT: Ever been out with any girls—I mean, real swift

ones that there's something doing with, not these dead

Janes around here?

RICHARD (lies boldly): Aw, what do you think? Sure I have!

WINT: Ever drink anything besides sodas?

RICHARD: Sure. Lots of times. Beer and sloe-gin fizz and Manhattans.

WINT (impressed): Hell, you know more than I thought.

Can you fix it so your folks won't get wise?

Ought to be easy—on the Fourth.

RICHARD: Sure. Don't worry about that.

WINT: But you've got to keep your face closed about this,

you hear ?—to Art and everybody else. I tell you straight,

I wouldn't ask you to come if I wasn't in a hole—and if

I didn't know you were coming down to Yale next

year, and didn't think you're giving me the straight

goods about having been around before. I don't want to

lead you astray.

RICHARD (scornfully): Aw, I told you that was silly.

WINT: Well, you be at the Pleasant Beach House at half past

nine then. Come in the back room. And don't forget

to grab some cloves to take the booze off your breath.

RICHARD: Aw, I know what to do.

WINT: See you later, then. And say, I'll say you're a Harvard freshman, and you back me up. They don't know a damn thing about Harvard. I don't want them thinking I'm traveling around with any high-school

kid.

RICHARD: Sure. That's easy.

WINT : So long, then. Watch your step, Kid.

RICHARD: So long. I'll show her she can't treat me

the way she's done! I'll show them all!

TOMMY : Where's Ma?

RICHARD (surlily) : In the sitting-room. Where did you think,

Bonehead?

TOMMY: Pa and Uncle Sid are coming. Mid and I saw

them from the front piazza. Gee, I'm glad. I'm awful

hungry, ain't you? Ma! They're coming! Let's have dinner

quick! Gee, but I'm awful hungry, Ma!

MRS. MILLER: I know. You always are. You've got a tapeworm,

that's what I think.

TOMMY : Have we got lobsters, Ma ? Gee, I love lobsters.

MRS. MILLER: Yes, we've got lobsters. And fish. You remember

what I told you about that fish. (He snickers)

Now, do be quiet, Tommy! (Then with a teasing smile

at RICHARD) Well, I'm glad to see you've got back out of

the night, Richard.

LILY (bitterly) : Yes, I might have known.

MILDRED: Ma, Uncle Sid's—(She whispers in her ear.)

MRS. MILLER: Never mind! You shouldn't notice such things

—at your age! And don't you encourage him by laughing

at his foolishness, you hear! Here we are!

MRS. MILLER shakes her head forebodingly—but,

so great is the comic spell for

TOMMY : You needn't whisper, Mid. Think I don't know?

Uncle Sid's soused again.

MRS. MILLER: You be quiet! Did I ever!

You're getting too smart! Go to your place

and sit right down and not another

word out of you!

TOMMY (aggrieved) : Aw, Ma!

MRS. MILLER: And you sit down

He'll be all right then. You come right in here!

Don 't stop to wash up or anything. Dinner's coming

right on the table.

MILL ER'S VOIC E (jovially): All right, Essie. Here we are!

Mmm! Mmm! Lily, I'm afraid—

MRS. M ILLER : All right, Norah. You can bring in the soup.

MILLER: Here we are, Essie! Right on the dot! Here we the

soup tureen down with a thud in front of MRS. MILLER

are!

MILLER: Don't, you Crazy! So I see, you're here!

And if I didn't, you've told me four times already!

MILLER (beamingly): Now, Essie, don't be critical. Don't

be carpingly critical. Good news can stand repeating,

can't it? 'Course it can!

MRS. MILLER (scandalized): Nat! Aren't you ashamed!

MILLER: Couldn't resist it! Just simply couldn't resist it!

MRS. MILLER (turns on her with outraged indignation):

Norah! Bring that soup here this minute!

NORAH (guiltily) : Yes, Mum.

MILLER (jovially) :Why, hello, Norah!

MRS. MILLER: Nat!

NORAH (rebuking him familiarly): Arrah now, don't be

making me laugh and getting me into trouble!

MRS. M ILLER : Norah!

NORAH (a bit resentfully) : Yes, Mum. Here I am.

MRS. :MILLER: Tommy! Stop spinning your napkin ring!

How often have I got to tell you? Mildred! Sit up

straight in your chair! Do you want to grow up a

humpback? Richard! Take your elbows off the table!

MILLER : Well, well, well. Well, well, well.

It's good to be home again.

MRS. MILLER (jumps): Oh! (Then exasperatedly) Nat,

I do wish you wouldn't encourage that stupid girl by

talking to her, when I'm doing my best to train—

MILLER (beamingly): All right , Essie. Your word is law!

(Then laughingly) We did have the darndest fun today!

And Sid was the life of that picnic! You ought to

have heard him! Honestly, he had that crowd just rolling

on the ground and splitting their sides! He ought

to be on the stage.

MRS. MILLER: He ought to be at this table eating something to

sober him up, that's what he ought to be! (She calls)

Sid! You come right in here! (Then to NORAH, handing

her a soup plate) Here, Norah. (NORAH begins passing

soup) Sit down, Nat, for goodness sakes. Start eating,

everybody. Don't wait for me. You know I've given up

soup.

MILLER : Essie—Sid's sort of embarrassed

about coming—I mean I'm afraid he's a little bit—not

too much, you understand—Don't pretend to notice, eh?

And don't you kids, you hear! And don't you, Lily.

He's scared of you.

LILY (with stiff meekness): Very well, Nat.

MILLER (beaming again—calls): All right, Sid. The coast's

clear. Good soup, Essie! Good soup!

SID: Good evening. Beautiful evening.

I never remember seeing—more beautiful

sunset. Sorry—sorry, Lily—deeply sorry.

LILY (her eyes on her plate—stiffly): It's all right.

SID: Wha' was I sayin'? Oh, sunsets. But why butt in?

Hasn't sun—perfect right to set? Mind y'r own business.

And there you are! Am I right?

MILLER ( humoring him) : Right.

SID: Right!

MRS. MILLER: Sid!

SID: Soup?

MRS. MILLER: Of course, it's soup. What did you think it

was? And you hurry up and eat it.

SID: Well! (Then suddenly) Well, all right then! Soup be it!

Spoon, is this any way to

treat a pal? Down with spoons! "We'll drink to the

dead already, and hurrah for the next who dies."

Your good health, ladies and gents.

MRS. MILLER: Oh, nothing. Never mind.

SID (solemnly offended): Are you—publicly rebuking me

before assembled—? Isn't soup liquid? Aren't liquids

drunk? (Then considering this to himself) What if they

are drunk? It's a good man's failing. Am I right or wrong?

MRS. MILLER: Hurry up and finish your soup, and stop

talking nonsense!

SID (turning to her—again offendedly): Oh, no, Essie, if

I ever so far forget myself as to drink a leg of lamb,

then you might have some—excuse for— Just think of

waste effort eating soup with spoons—fifty gruelling lifts

per plate—billions of soup—eaters on globe—why, it's

simply staggering! (Then darkly to himself) No more

spoons for me! If I want to develop my biceps, I'll buy

a Sandow Exerciser! Am I right, folks?

MILLER (who has been choking with laughter): Haw, haw!

You're right, Sid.

SID: Poor old Nat! Always wrong—but heart of gold, heart

of purest gold. And drunk again, I regret to note. Sister,

my heart bleeds for you and your poor fatherless chicks!

MRS. MILLER: Sid! Do shut up for a minute! Pass

me your soup plates, everybody.

If we wait for that girl to take them, we'll be here all

night.

SID (raptly): Ah, Sight for Sore Eyes, my beautiful Macushla,

my star-eyed Mavourneen—

MRS . MILLER: Sid!

NORAH (immensely pleased): Ah sure, Mister Sid, it's you

that have kissed the Blarney Stone, when you've a drop taken!

MRS. MILLER (outraged) : Norah! Put down that fish!

NORAH: Yes, Mum.

MILLER: Ouch!

NORAH (almost lets the dish fall): Oh, glory be to God!

Is it hurted you are?

MILLER (rubbing his head—good-naturedly) : No, no harm

done. Only careful, Norah, careful.

NORAH (gratefully): Yes, sorr.

SID : Careful, Mavourneen, careful! You might have hit him some

place besides the head. Always aim at his head, remember—

so as not to worry us.

LILY: I'm so sorry, Nat. I didn't mean to laugh. (Turning

on SID furiously) Will you please sit down and stop making

a fool of yourself?

NORAH : Ah, Miss Lily, don't mind him. He's only

under the influence. Sure, there's no harm in him at all.

MRS. MILLER: Norah!

MILLER : This isn't, by any chance, bluefish, is it, my dear?

MRS. MILLER: Of course not.

You know we never have bluefish, on account of you.

MILLER: Yes, I regret to say, there's a certain peculiar

oil in bluefish that invariably poisons me....

Well, I must say I don't see what's so darned

funny about my being poisoned.

SID: Aha! Nat, I suspect—plot! This fish looks blue to me—very

blue—in fact despondent, desperate, and— See how guilty

she looks a ver—veritable Lucretia Georgia! Can it be

this woman has been slowly poisoning you all these

years? And how well—you've stood it! What an iron

constitution! Even now, when you are invariably at

death's door, I can't believe—

MILLER (grumpily): Oh, give us a rest, you darned fool!

A joke's a joke, but—Is this true, Essie?

MRS. MILLER : Yes, it is true, if you must know, and you'd never have

suspected it, if it weren't for that darned Tommy, and

Sid poking his nose in. You've eaten bluefish for years

and thrived on it and it's all nonsense about that peculiar

oil.

MILLER (deeply offended) : Kindly allow me to know my

own constitution! Now I think of it, I've felt upset afterwards

every damned time we've had fish! I can't eat this.

MRS. MILLER: Well, don't then. .....

There's lots of lobster coming and you can fill up on

that. (RICHARD suddenly bursts out laughing again.)

MRS . MILLER (turns to him caustically): You seem in a merry

mood, Richard. I though you were the original of the

Heart Bowed Down today.

SID: Never mind, Dick. Let them — scoff! What can they

understand about girls whose hair sizzchels, whose lips are

fireworks, whose eyes are red-hot sparks—

MILDRED (laughing): Is that what he wrote to Muriel?

You silly goat, you!

RICHARD (surlily): Aw, shut up, Mid. What do I care about

her? I'll show all of you how much I care !

MRS . MILLER: Pass your plates as soon as you're through,

everybody. I've rung for the lobster. And that's all. You

don't get any dessert or tea after lobster, you know.

TOMMY: Gee, I love lobster!

MILLER : Have a good time at the beach, I Mildred? '

MILDRED: Oh, fine, Pa, thanks. The water was wonderful

and warm.

MILLER: Swim far ?

MILDRED: Yes, for me. But that isn't so awful far.

MILLER : Well, you ought to be a good swimmer, if you

take after me. I used to be a regular water rat when I

was a boy. I'll have to go down to the beach with you

of these days—though I'd be rusty, not having been

in in all these years. You know, speaking of swimming,

I never go down to that beach but what it calls to mind

the day I and Red Sisk went in swimming

there and I saved his life.

SID: Ha! Now we—have it again!

MILLER: Have what?

SID: Nothing—go on with your swimming—don't mind me.

MILLER: Red Sisk—his father kept a blacksmith shop

where the Union Market is now—we kids called him Red

because he had the darndest reddest crop of hair—

SID: Remarkable! —the curious imagination—of little children.

MRS. MILLER : Sid! Eat your lobster and shut up! Go on, Nat.

MILLER : Well, as I was saying, Red and I went swimming that

day. Must have been—let me see—Red was fourteen,

bigger and older than me, I was only twelve—forty five

years ago—wasn't a single house down there then but

there was a stake out where the whistling buoy is

now, about a mile out. ...One more sound

out of you, young man, and you'll leave the table!

MRS. MILLER: Do eat your lobster, Nat. You didn't have any

fish, you know.

MILLER: Well, if I'm going to be interrupted every second anyway—

MRS. MILLER: How's Anne's mother's rheumatism, Mildred?

MILDRED: Oh, she's much better, Ma, She was in wading

today. She says salt water's the only thing that really

helps her bunion.

MRS. MILLER: Mildred! Where are your manners? At the

table's no place to speak of—

MILLER : Well, as I was saying, there was I and Red, and he dared

me to race him out to the stake and back. Well, I didn't

let anyone dare me in those days. I was a spunky kid. So

I said all right and we started out. We swam and swam

and were pretty evenly matched; though, as I've said,

he was bigger and older than me, but finally I drew

ahead. I was going along easy, with lots in reserve, not

a bit tired, when suddenly I heard a sort of gasp from

behind me—like this—"Help." And I

turned and there was Red, his face all pinched and white,

and he says weakly: "Help, Nat! I got a cramp in my

leg!" Well, I don't mind telling you I got mighty scared.

I didn't know what to do. Then suddenly I thought of

the pile. If I could pull him to that, I could hang on to

him till sorneone'd notice us. But the pile was still—well,

I calculate it must have been two hundred feet away.

SID: Two hundred and fifty!

MILLER (in confusion): What's that?

SID: Two hundred and fifty! I've taken down the distance

every time you've saved Red 's life for thirty years and

the mean average to that pile is two hundred and fifty

feet! Why didn't you let that Red drown, anyway, Nat?

I never knew him but I know I'd never have liked him.

MILLER: Well, guess you're right, Sid.

Guess I have told that one too many times

and bored everyone. But it's a good true story for kids

because it illustrates the danger of being foolhardy in

the water—

MRS. MILLER: Of course it's a good story—and you tell it

whenever you've a mind to. And you, Sid, if you were

in any responsible state, I'd give you a good piece of my

mind for teasing Nat like that.

MILLER: Getting old, I guess, Mother—getting to repeat myself.

Someone ought to stop me.

MRS. MILLER: No such thing! You're as young as you

ever were. (She turns on SID again angrily) You eat

your lobster and maybe it'll keep your mouth shut!

SID: Lobster! Did you know, Tommy, your Uncle Sid is the man invented lobster? Fact! One day—when I was building the Pyramids—

took a day off and just dashed off lobster. He

was bigger 'n' older than me and he had the darndest

reddest crop of hair but I dashed him off just the same!

Am I right, Nat? (Then suddenly in the tones of a

side-show barker) Ladies and Gents—

MRS. MILLER: Mercy sakes! Can't you shut up?

SID: In this cage you see the lobster. You will not believe

me, ladies and gents, but it's a fact that this interesting

bivalve only makes love to his mate once in every

thousand years—but, dearie me, how he does enjoy it!

MILLER: Careful, Sid, careful. Remember you're at home.

TOMMY: Ma! Look at him! He's eating that claw, shells and all!

MRS. MILLER (horrified): Sid, do you want to kill yourself?

Take it away from him, Lily!

SID (with great dignity): But I prefer the shells. All famous

epicures prefer the shells—to the less delicate, coarser

meat. It's the same with clams. Unless I eat the shells

there is a certain, peculiar oil that invariably poisons. Am

I right, Nat?

MILLER (good-naturedly): You seem to be getting a lot of

fun kidding me. Go ahead, then. I don't mind.

MRS. MILLER: He better go right up to bed for a while,

that's what he better do.

SID (considering this owlishly): Bed? Yes, maybe you're

right. (He gets to his feet) I am not at all well—in

very delicate condition—we are praying for a boy. Am

I right, Nat? Nat, I kept telling you all day I was in

delicate condition and yet you kept forcing demon

chowder on me, although you knew full well——even if

you were full—that there is a certain, peculiar oil in

chowder that invariably—

MRS. MILLER: Will you get to bed, you idiot!

SID: Immediately—if not sooner. But wait. There is still a duty I must perform. No day is complete without it. Lily, answer once and for all, will you marry me?

LILY (with an hysterical giggle): No, I won't—never!

SID: Right! And perhaps it's all for the best.

For how could I forget the pre— precepts taught

me at mother's dying knee. "Sidney," she said, "never

marry a woman who drinks! Lips that touch liquor

shall never touch yours!" (Gazing at her mournfully)

Too bad! So fine a woman once—and now such a slave

to rum! (Turning to NAT) What can we do to save her,

Nat? Better put her in institution where she'll be removed

from temptation! The mere smell of it seems to drive

her frantic!

MRS. MILLER: You leave Lily alone, and go to bed! . , .

SID: Right! Good night,. ladies —and gents.

We will meet—bye and bye! Boom! Boom!

Boom! Come and be saved, Brothers! (He starts to sing

the old Army hymn)

"In the sweet

Bye and bye

We will meet on that beautiful shore."

"Work and pray

While you may.

We will meet in the sky bye and bye."

MILLER (subsiding at last): Haw, haw. He's a case,

If ever there was one! Darned if you can help laughing at him

—even when he's poking fun at you! .

MRS. MILLER: Goodness, but he's a caution! Oh, my sides

ache, I declare! I was trying so hard not to—but you

can't help it, he's so silly! .But I suppose we really

shouldn't. It only encourages him. But, my lands—. ..

LILY (suddenly gets up from her chair): That's just it—you

shouldn't —even I laughed—it does encourage—that's been his

downfall—everyone always laughing, everyone always

saying what a card he is, what a case, what a caution, so

funny—and he's gone on—and we're all responsible—

making it easy for him—we're all to blame—

and all we do is laugh!

MILLER (worriedly): Now, Lily, now, you mustn't take on

so. It isn't as serious as all that.

LILY (bitterly): Maybe—it is—to me. Or was—once. (Then

contritely) I'm sorry, Nat. I'm sorry, Essie. I didn't mean

to—I'm not feeling myself tonight. If you'll excuse me,

I'll go in the front parlor and lie down on the sofa awhile.

MRS. MILLER: Of course, Lily. You do whatever you've a

mind to. (LILY goes out.)

MILLER: Hmm. I suppose she's right.

Never knew Lily to come out with things

that way before. Anything special happened, Essie?

MRS. MILLER: Nothing I know—except he'd promised to

take her to the fireworks.

MILLER: That's so. Well, supposing I take her? I don't want

her to feel disappointed.

MRS. MILLER (shaking her head) : Wild horses couldn't drag

her there now. .

MILLER: Hmm. I thought she'd got completely over her

foolishness about him long ago.

MRS. MILLER: She never will.

MII.LER: She'd better. He's got fired out of that Waterbury job

—told me at the picnic after he'd got enough .

Dutch courage in him.

MRS. MILLER: Oh, dear! Isn't he the fool!

MILLER: I knew something was wrong when he came home .

Well, I'll find a place for him on my paper again, of

course. He always was the best news-getter this town ever

had . But I'll tell him he's got to stop his damn nonsense.

MRS. MILLER (doubtfully): Yes.

MILLER : Well, no use sitting here mourning over spilt milk.

You kids go out in the yard and try to keep

quiet for a while, so's your Uncle Sid'll get to sleep and

your Aunt Lily can rest.

TOMMY (mournfully): Ain't we going to set off the skyrockets

and Roman candles, Pa?

MILLER: Later, Son, later. It isn't dark enough for them

yet anyway.

MILDRED: Come on, Tommy. I'll see he keeps quiet, Pa.

MILLER: That's a good girl.

Well, Melancholy Dane, what are you doing?

RICHARD (darkly): I'm going out—for a while.

Do you know what I think? It's Aunt Lily's

fault, Uncle Sid's going to ruin . It's all because he loves

her, and she keeps him dangling after her, and eggs

him on and ruins his life—like all women love to ruin

men's lives! I don't blame him for drinking himself to

death! What does he care if he dies, after the way she's

treated him! I'd do the same thing myself if I were in

his boots!

MRS. M ILLER (indignantly): Richard! You stop that talk!

RICHARD (quotes bitterly):

"Drink! for you know not whence you come nor why.

Drink! for you know not why you go nor where!"

MILLER Listen here, young man!

I've had about all I can stand of your nonsense for

one day! You're growing a lot too big for your size,

seems to me! You keep that damn fool talk to yourself,

you hear me—or you're going to regret it! Mind now!

MRS. MILLER: Richard, I'm ashamed of you,

that's what I am.

RICHARD: Aw, what the hell do I care? I'll show them!

(He turns and goes out the screen door.)