The Pot Boiler | Page 9

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