The Bicyclers and Three Other Farces. Bangs John Kendrick

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      Perkins.  Good-bye, dearest.

      Mrs. Perkins.  Good-bye.  Don’t hurt yourself, Thaddeus.  [Exit Perkins.

      Mrs. Perkins (leaving window and looking at clock on mantel).  Ten minutes past nine and Emma not here yet.  It does seem too bad that she should worry Ed so much just for independence’ sake.  I am quite sure I should never want to ride a wheel anyhow, and even if I did—

      Enter Yardsley hurriedly, with a piece of flannel in his hand.

      Yardsley.  I beg pardon, Mrs. Perkins, but have you a shawl-strap in the house?

      Mrs. Perkins (tragically).  What is that you have in your hand, Mr. Yardsley?

      Yardsley (with a glance at the piece of flannel).  That?  Oh—ha-ha—that—that’s a—ah—a piece of flannel.

      Mrs. Perkins (snatching the flannel from Yardsley’s hand).  But Teddy—isn’t that a piece of Teddy’s—Teddy’s shirt?

      Yardsley.  More than that, Mrs. Perkins.  It’s the greater part of Teddy’s shirt.  That’s why we want the shawl-strap.  When we started him off, you know, he took his coat off.  Jack held on to the wheel, and I took Teddy in the fulness of his shirt.  One—two—three!  Teddy put on steam—Barlow let go—Teddy went off—I held on—this is what remained.  It ruined the shirt, but Teddy is safe.  (Aside.)  Barring about sixty or seventy bruises.

      Mrs. Perkins (with a faint smile).  And the shawl-strap?

      Yardsley.  I want to fasten it around Teddy’s waist, grab hold of the handle, and so hold him up.  He’s all right, so don’t you worry.  (Exit Mrs. Perkins in search of shawl-strap.)  Guess I’d better not say anything about the Pond’s Extract he told me to bring—doesn’t need it, anyhow.  Man’s got to get used to leaving pieces of his ankle-bone on the curb-stone if he wants to learn to ride a wheel.  Only worry her if I asked her for it—won’t hurt him to suffer a week.

      Enter Bradley.

      Bradley.  Has she come yet?

      Yardsley.  No—just gone up-stairs for a shawl-strap.

      Bradley.  Shawl-strap?  Who?

      Perkins (outside).  Hurry up with that Pond’s Extract, will you?

      Yardsley.  All right—coming.  Who?  Who what?

      Bradley.  Who has gone up-stairs after shawl-strap—my wife?

      Yardsley.  No, no, no.  Hasn’t she got here yet?  It’s Mrs. Perkins.  Perk fell off just now and broke in two.  We want to fasten him together.

      Barlow (outside).  Bring out that pump.  His wheel’s flabby.

      Enter Mrs. Perkins with shawl-strap.

      Mrs. Perkins.  Here it is.  What did I hear about Pond’s Extract?  Didn’t somebody call for it?

      Yardsley.  No—oh no—not a bit of it!  What you heard was shawl-strap—sounds like extract—very much like it.  In fact—

      Bradley.  But you did say you wanted—

      Yardsley (aside to Bradley).  Shut up!  Thaddeus banged his ankle, but he’ll get over it in a minute.  She’d only worry.  The best bicyclers in the world are all the time falling off, taking headers, and banging their ankles.

      Bradley.  Poor Emma!

      Enter Barlow.

      Barlow.  Where the deuce is that Ex—

      Yardsley (grasping him by the arm and pushing him out).  Here it is; this is the ex-strap, just what we wanted.  (Aside to Bradley.)  Go down to the drug-store and get a bottle of Pond’s, will you?  [Exit.

      Mrs. Perkins (walking to window).  She can’t be long in coming now.

      Bradley.  I guess I’ll go out to the corner again.  (Aside.)  Best bicyclers always smashing ankles, falling off, taking headers!  If I ever get hold of Emma again, I’ll see whether she’ll ride that—[Rushes out.

      Mrs. Perkins.  It seems to have made these men crazy.  I never saw such strange behavior in all my life.  (The telephone-bell rings.)  What can that be?  (Goes to ’phone, which stands just outside parlor door.)  Hello!  What?  Yes, this is 1181—yes.  Who are you?  What?  Emma?  Oh dear, I’m so glad!  Are you alive?  Where are you?  What?  Where?  The police-station!  (Turning from telephone.)  Thaddeus, Mr. Barlow, Mr. Yardsley.  (Into telephone.)  Hello!  What for?  What?  Riding without a lamp!  Arrested at Forty-second Street!  Want to be bailed out?  (Drops receiver.  Rushes into parlor and throws herself on sofa.)  To think of it—Emma Bradley!  (Telephone-bell rings violently again; Mrs. Perkins goes to it.)  Hello!  Yes.  Tell Ed what?  To ask for Mrs. Willoughby Hawkins.  Who’s she?  What, you!  (Drops the receiver; runs to window.)  Thaddeus!  Mr. Yardsley!  Mr. Barlow!—all of you come here, quick.

      [They rush in.  Perkins with shawl-strap about his waist—limping.  Barlow has large air-pump in his hand.  Mrs. Perkins grows faint.

      Perkins.  Great heavens!  What’s the matter?

      Barlow.  Get some water—quick!

      [Yardsley runs for water.

      Mrs. Perkins.  Air!  Give me air!

      Perkins (grabbing pump from Barlow’s hand).  Don’t stand there like an idiot!  Act!  She wants air!

      [Places pump on floor and begins to pump air at her.

      Barlow.  Who’s the idiot now?  Wheel her over to the window.  She’s not a bicycle.

      They do so.  Mrs. Perkins revives.

      Perkins.  What is the matter?

      Mrs. Perkins.  Mrs. Willoughby Hawkins—arrested—Forty-second Street—no lamp—bailed out.  Oh, dear me, dear me!  It’ll all be in the papers!

      Perkins.  What’s that got to do with us?  Who’s Mrs. Willoughby Hawkins?

      Mrs. Perkins.  Emma!  Assumed name.

      Barlow.  Good Lord!  Mrs. Bradley in jail?

      Perkins.  This is a nice piece of—ow—my ankle, my ankle!

      [Enter Bradley and Yardsley at same time, Bradley with bottle of Pond’s Extract, Yardsley with glass of water.

      Bradley.  Where the deuce did you fellows go to?  I’ve been wandering all over the square looking for you.

      Perkins.  СКАЧАТЬ