The Bicyclers and Three Other Farces | Page 5

woman!
Bradley (indignantly). Served her right! If women won't obey the law they ought to be arrested, the same as men. If she wasn't my wife, I'd like to see her sent up for ten years or even twenty years. Women have got no business--
Barlow. Don't get mad, Brad. If you knew the fascination of the wheel you wouldn't blame her a bit.
Bradley (calming down). Well--I suppose it has some fascination.
Perkins (anxious to escape further lessons). Oh, indeed, it's a most exhilarating sensation: you seem to be flying like a bird over the high-ways. Try it, Ned. Go on, right away. You don't know how that little ride I had braced me up.
Barlow (wish a laugh). There! Hear that! There's a man who's ridden only eight inches in all his life--and he says he felt like a bird!
Perkins (aside). Yes--like a spring chicken split open for broiling. Next time I ride a wheel it'll be four wheels, with a horse fastened in front. Oh my! oh my! I believe I've broken my back too. [Lies down.
Bradley. You seem to be exhilarated, Thaddeus.
Perkins (bracing up). Oh, I am, I am. Never felt worse--that is, better.
Barlow. Come on, Brad. I'll show you the trick in two jiffies-- it'll relieve your worry about madam, too.
Bradley. Very well--I suppose there's no way out of it. Only let me know as soon as Emma arrives, will you?
Mrs. Perkins. Yes--we will.
[They go out. As they disappear through the door Thaddeus groans aloud.
Mrs. Perkins. Why--what is the matter, dear? Are you hurt?
Perkins. Oh no--not at all, my love. I was only thinking of Mr. Jarley's indignation to-morrow when he sees the hole I made in his curb-stone with my ankle--oh!--ow!--and as for my back, while I don't think the whole spine is gone, I shouldn't be surprised if it had come through in sections.
Mrs. Perkins. Why, you poor thing--why didn't you say--
Perkins (savagely). Why didn't I say? My heavens, Bess, what did you think I wanted the Pond's Extract for--to drink, or to water the street with? O Lord! (holding up his arm). There aren't any ribs sticking out, are there?
Barlow (outside). The other way--there--that's it--you've got it.
Bradley (outside). Why, it is easy, isn't it?
Perkins (scornfully). Easy! That fellow'd find comfort in--
Barlow (outside). Now you're off--not too fast.
Mrs. Perkins (walking to window). Why, Thaddeus, he's going like the wind down the street!
Perkins. Heaven help him when he comes to the river!
Barlow (rushing in). Here we are in trouble again. Brad's gone off on my wheel. Bob's taken his, and your tire's punctured. He doesn't know the first thing about turning or stopping, and I can't run fast enough to catch him. One member of the family is in jail--the other on a runaway wheel!
[Yardsley appears at door. Assumes attitude of butler announcing guest.
Yardsley. Missus Willerby 'Awkins!
Enter Mrs. Bradley, hysterical.
Mrs. Bradley. Oh, Edward!
[Throws herself into Barlow's arms.
Barlow (quietly). Excuse me--ah--Mrs. Hawkins--ah--Bradley--but I'm not--I'm not your husband.
Mrs. Bradley (looking up, tragically). Where's Edward?
Mrs. Perkins. Sit down, dear--you must be completely worn out.
Mrs. Bradley (in alarm). Where is he?
Perkins (rising and standing on one leg). Fact is, Mrs. Bradley--we don't know. He disappeared ten minutes ago.
Yardsley. What do you mean?
Mrs. Bradley. Disappeared?
Barlow. Yes. He went east--at the rate of about a mile a minute.
Mrs. Bradley. My husband--went east? Mile a minute?
Perkins. Yes, on a bike. Yardsley, take me by the shawl-strap, will you, and help me over to that chair; my back hurts so I can't lie down.
Mrs. Bradley. Ned--on a wheel? Why, he can't ride!
Barlow. Oh yes, he can. What I'm afraid of is that he can't stop riding.
Bradley (outside). Hi--Barlow--help!
Mrs. Bradley. That's his voice--he called for help.
Yardsley (rushing to window). Hi--Brad--stop! Your wife's here.
Bradley (in distance). Can't stop--don't know how--
Barlow (leaning out of window). By Jove! he's turned the corner all right. If he keeps on around, we can catch him next time he passes.
Mrs. Bradley. Oh, do, do stop him. I'm so afraid he'll be hurt.
Mrs. Perkins (looking out). I can just see him on the other side of the square--and, oh dear me!--his lamp is out.
Mrs. Bradley. Oh, Mr. Yardsley--Mr. Barlow--Mr. Perkins--do stop him!
[By this time all are gazing out of window, except Perkins, who is nursing his ankle.
Perkins. I guess not. I'm not going to lie down in the road, or sit in the road, or stand in the road to stop him or anybody else. I don't believe I've got a sound bone left; but if I have, I'm going to save it, if Bradley kills himself. If his lamp's out the police will stop him. Why not be satisfied with that?
Bradley (passing the window). For Heaven's sake! one of you fellows stop me.
Yardsley. Put on the brake.
Barlow. Fall off. It hasn't got a brake.
Bradley (despairingly, in distance). Can't.
Mrs. Perkins. This is frightful.
Perkins (with a