The Sweet Girl Graduates, by Rea Woodman

Sitting Room of the De Smythe Home.
Wednesday Morning at 10 o'clock.
"We'll have the prettiest frock if it breaks the R. I. P. R. R.!"

Sitting Room of the De Smythe Home.
Thursday afternoon at 3 o'clock.
"Deep, deep are the meanings of life."

Hallway of the De Smythe Home.
Friday Morning at 9 o'clock.
"Mr. Bulbus, the lilies are lovely."

Dining Room in the home of Mr. and Mrs. Jack Hamilton.
A Friday Morning in May, 1905.
"Therefore, Valeria squints."

5ACT I.

Mrs. De S. (tossing samples in a heap). There's positively nothing like it! Nothing anywhere near it!

Mrs. De S. (snatching a bit of lace from the heap). There! That's a lover's knot pattern. Why, it–

Madam (patiently). You see the loop in this bends down and in this, it bends–goes up. Every difference in the world, my dear Mrs. De Smythe.

Mrs. De S. (with a profound sigh). What can we do? And I threatened with an attack!

Madam I don't know! (rises, sits down, then groans). I am at my wit's end. Let me think.

Madam Let me see; Wednesday morning. (looks at watch). Ten o'clock. It might be done. Practically two days. (sits staring at wall). No, it couldn't! We might use chiffon.

Miss H. (looks around; sniffs at the untidiness). Jennie, you look ready to faint!

Miss H. They don't keel over every few minutes, anyhow! (sits with a thud). You look ready to faint!

Miss H. (commencing to "straighten" room in earnest). Oh, is that all? I thought the President had been assassinated!

Mrs. De S. Matilda! I must say you don't seem much interested. I should think you would,–your own niece, too!

Miss H. (tragically). Look at this room,–look at this room! It is a disgrace to a Christian community! Think of the breakfast we had–or rather, that we didn't have! And yesterday! And now you down sick–down sick! Does it take a month to graduate? (dusts an upholstered chair vigorously). It's such (bang) such non-(bang) nonsense!

7Mrs. De S. Nonsense to graduate! Matilda Hoppenhoer! Do stop thrashing about! Ugh, that dust! (coughs weakly). Katherine will do that.

Miss H. (pounding sofa cushions). Katherine is busy; she has ten miles of flutin' to flute!

Madam (emerging from a brown study). What shall I do? And only a yard needed! I think chiffon–

Miss H. (snapping her up). Well, what's the idea? To use something that hasn't never been used?

Maude (sitting down hard). Goodness, I'm tired! Auntie, your grammar is bad–very bad. What are you doing?

Maude (peeling off her gloves). Well sir, I've just been racing around! O, Valeria's going to have chiffon.

Miss H. (winding yarn into a ball). Am you what? Sit down, child, sit down, you look like a statute!

Mrs. De S. (sitting erect and speaking with authority). Listen, dearie. The lace has given out.

Maude Madam would be in a passion herself! She knows how I feel! O dear! (begins to sob). Everything is going wrong! I w-w-won't graduate, so there now!

Miss H. (mounting a chair to straighten a picture). That's sensible! You needn't. I never did.

Mrs. De S. Matilda, do not encourage the child! Of course she must graduate. Everybody does.

Miss H. (sarcastically). If everybody stood on their heads, I suppose we'd have to!

Mrs. De S. You cannot judge in such matters, Matilda. You are very old-fashioned.

Miss H. (upsetting contents of work basket in lap). Maybe so, maybe so, but I am alive, and that child'll be dead if–

Mrs. De S. (with decision). Maude, sit down! You will do nothing of the sort. Mrs. Reynolds is such a talker! The whole town would know it in ten minutes. 9 Besides, at the Tuesday Club she cut me–actually cut me! I will not permit it.

Maude I don't think that ought to count, now. I suppose I have to have something to wear.

Mrs. De S. Maudie! Would Madam Sateene propose anything else? She doesn't want you to look like a fright. Now, I think,–(pauses, listening). Why there is papa's voice!

Mr. De S. (with profound astonishment). Can't graduate? Can't graduate? Didn't you pass?

Maude (sobbing and clinging to his neck). I got to have chiffon, ugly, limp, old chiffon! It is so–so–d–drabbled!

Mr. De S. Well, never mind! Hus-s-h! You'll make Mamma worse. You needn't graduate! Never mind.

10Maude You wouldn't, if they were yours! You know you wouldn't! Oh, you're all so mean!

Miss H. And sounds too furrin! Haven't we got any American muslin? I'd rather wear gunny sack.

Mrs. De S. (sighing). I do not know, Papa, I do not know. This is a dreadful time,–a dreadful time. I fear I shall not live to see her graduate! (sighs dismally). But you will all enjoy it. Matilda, will you heat the salt bags?

Maude (flies to couch). O, you precious, precious Mamma! Don't you dare get sick and die!

Jack (bows to ladies, shakes hands with Mr. De Smythe). Couldn't Maude, nothing but red.

11Madam (after due deliberation). Yes, you can. You will need a touch of color.

Jack Pink roses are lovely. You carried pink ones at the Junior Banquet, didn't you, Val?

Mr. De S. Never mind about the roses. They are a side issue. The question is, "Wherewithal shall you be clothed!" I must be off to earn your daily cake. Let's decide.

Maude (with dignity). I am not tired. He can't tease me, thank you, Valeria. I think, Madam, I will have Paris muslin. Silk is so common.

Mr. De S. Well, children, defer that discussion until the Fourth of July. Is there time for a whole new rig?

Mr. De S. Cheer up, everybody! We'll have the prettiest frock in the outfit, if it breaks the R.I.P. Railroad! We are the people! I must go hunt those papers–things are stirred up so! Good-bye, Mamma, don't worry! Madam Sateene will save us! (goes).

12Madam (rising with alacrity). I shall go look at Paris muslins. Shall I bring you samples?

Mrs. De S. No, I am not able to decide. We trust to you absolutely, Madam Sateene, absolutely. (groans). I believe I am going to have an attack! Oh, dear, my nerves! They actually twitch! I wish Matilda were of some use in such matters. Because she never graduated, she thinks Maude shouldn't! Jack, do you see my smelling salts?

Jack (grinning). Only men–for neck-ties mostly. I can't find it, Mrs. De Smythe.

Mrs. De S. Then Matilda has put it in the medicine chest. She is so neat! I can't help it–I don't want to have an attack! What shall I do? But I am afraid I–I am going to have one!

Maude (with signs of tears). O, Mamma, don't have an attack! What shall I do? No roses, no dress, no nothing!

Madam (resolutely). Well, you shall have a dress, about noon, to give you (with a tragic sweep of hand) if it is my last effort! Mrs. De Smythe, I'll drop in and report! (Goes hastily.)

Maude (goes to desk). O yes! (rummages). This desk is disgraceful! Here it is! (Reads crumpled paper.) "Be it resolved–" goodness, that's about poor Ned Woodruff! Jack, who was on that committee?

Jack (smoothing Valeria's gloves on his knee). Miss Secretary, I do not keep the minutes.

Maude Well, you were presiding! (rummaging). Here it is,–six,–is that enough? Five, rather,–Hal Taylor won't serve.

Miss H. Attack! We'll all have an attack before Friday night! (She busies herself about the couch. Valeria and Maude go out.)

Miss H. Now, can you walk, do you think? I'd better call Katherine, hadn't I? Katherine! Be careful of that bag–it's hot–awful hot! Lean on me–(they go out, but Miss Hoppenhoer runs back to pick up things).

Jack Can't I help you! A fellow never knows what to do when–when–anybody has an attack.

Miss H. Ride a tantrum! Well, such goings on! And all of it comes from graduating! Thank Heaven, I never graduated!

ACT II.

Maude (standing in the middle of the room). W-e-1-1, not exactly read it, you know.

15Maude And it's a dandy! You ought to hear him when he comes to, "For of all the nations, builded of power and sealed with blood–" (in tremendous tones).

Maude Well, honest, you are fine. No I should die if I forgot,–just simply die.

Miss R. It is wiser for her to hold her manuscript, I think. This is an essay, not an oration.

Maude (sitting down and getting up, a la Delsarte). Of course, Jack, don't you see? It is an essay, not an oration. Now, did I get up right?

Miss R. Be leisurely. Leisure is elegance. And bend more. Try it again,–so. (illustrates).

Miss R. (hesitating). A trifle–just a trifle–well, er-stiff. Of all things, a lady must rise well.

Miss R. Go on, not too fast. Don't hold it so high and bend the body forward from the waist.

Maude (in high shrill tones). "As a traveler, among 16 the mighty mountains, fails to realize the height to which he has climbed–" (Stops, winded.)

Miss R. Try it again. Use a deeper tone. "As a traveler, among the mighty mountains, fails to realize the height–" Now, go on.

Maude (nervously). "As a traveler, among the mighty mountains, fails to realize the height to which he has climbed, so we, in Life's dusty pathway, cannot estimate the distance we have traveled." O, Miss Rantum, that isn't right!

Maude (ignoring him). Miss Rantum, what is the matter with it? I'm not doing as well as I did last week!

Maude (in grave-yard tones). "As the traveler, among the mighty mountains, fails to–"

Miss R. (hastily). Lighter, but firmly. Use a conversational tone, "As the traveler, among the mountains;" "It is a very pleasant day," "How do you do?" See?

Maude (in light, quivering tones). "As a traveler, 17 among the mountains–mighty mountains–fails to realize the height to which he has climbed–has climbed, so we, in Life's dusty pathway, cannot estimate the distance we have traveled."

Jack "Climbed–climbed." I don't like "climbed" there; wouldn't "attained" be better?

Miss R. "Climbed" is better. It is a real traveler and real mountains, hence "climbed." "Attained" sounds as if it were ideals, you know.

Maude (sighing profoundly). Yes, I think so, too. Besides, it's too late to change it now. I'd forget.

Maude (very slowly). "Among life's bright flowers, its rugged slopes, its pleasant walleys–valleys, its dangerous pitfalls, we cannot realize the magnitood of the common things about us."

18Miss R. Touch "common things" more lightly; "of the common things about us,"–"common things."

Maude (takes a sprint). We cannot realize the magnitood–tude–of the "common–" oh, dear, I can never say it!"

Jack What's the use? I don't think she need. People only do that on Decoration Day. "Br-rave, r-rugged heroes," you know.

Katherine Miss Maude, a letter from you–for you, I mean. (Hands one in awestruck manner and escapes.)

Jack That girl is scared to death at anything that looks like writing. Did you see her?

Maude (falling into a chair and opening letter). From Valeria. She can't come over this afternoon. She's got to, to–I can't make it out. (spells slowly). B-a-an, B-a-n–

Grindem (bows profoundly, repeatedly). Ah, good morning, ladies, good morning! Mr. Hamilton, ah, good morning! How is the work progressing?

Grindem (cordially). Not at all, Miss Maude, ah, not at all! Not at all! You will feel power,–power is ahem!–power is a great thing–a great thing.

Mrs. De S. Yes, Maudie, dear, read it all to us. O Matilda, Matilda, my salts! Now, Maudie!

Jack I think that's awkward,–looks as if she were going to cry "Lay on, Macduff!"

Maude "Life's Inner Meanings," (then, very rapidly). "As a traveler among the mighty mountains, fails to realize the height to which he has climbed, so we, in Life's dusty pathway, cannot estimate the distance we have traveled. Among life's bright flowers, its rugged slopes, its pleasant walleys–valleys, its dangerous pitfalls, we cannot realize the magnitood–tude–magnitude of the common things about us." (Stops, breathless.)

Miss R. (to Professor Grindem). Her voice is not deep enough. It lacks impressiveness.

Miss H. Yes, you ought to; you ought to be made over if you're going to graduate!

Maude "We stand upon the brink–who can guess what say the dashing waters beneath? Who can interpret the silence of the eternal stars? We rest in the walley–valley, who can understand the whispering of the leaves? Who can read the secrets of the ocean blue? O, deep are the inner meanings,–deep, deep are the mysteries of nature, infinite are the suggestions of life!"

Grindem Too, rapidly, Miss Maude,–too rapidly. Those are grand sentiments,–give 'em time–give 'em time.

Miss R. There is not enough emotion in the climax: "Deep, deep are the mysteries of nature!" Read it (in a cellerage tone). "Deep, deep are the mysteries of nature!"

Maude (using the "vox humana stop"). "Deep, deep are the mysteries of nature!"

Maude Nobody c-could! You all find fault. (weeps). You couldn't do any better–none of you–so there now!

Maude (still weeping). It does matter! It d-does! I don't want to disgrace the family.

Voice from without. Who's going to disgrace the family? I'd like to see 'em try it.

(As Mr. De Smythe appears, Professor Grindem and Jack go out, in deep converse.)

Mr. De S. Oh, no, you're not,–not by the R.I.P. 22 Railroad! (cheerfully). You won't be permitted to, Miss! Doesn't the dress fit?

Mr. De S. Honest? I've never seen so many tears. We are a Johnstown flood lately. (Gives jeweler's case.)

Mr. De S. Guess we don't need 'em, Mr. Bulbus. There is something going on at the school that night.

Miss R. (looks up from Maude's MS., which she has been studying). I beg your pardon, Mrs. De Smythe?

Mr. De S. And here is Mr. Bulbus waiting! He is a business man, you know. When do you want him, Jennie?

Mrs. De S. We must decide while Mr. Bulbus is here, so we can get his suggestions.

Miss R. (preparing to depart). Well, Miss Maude, I think we will not need another rehearsal.

Mr. De S. Go on with your reception business. Mr. Bulbus hasn't all day. (Goes out with Miss Rantum.)

Jack No, I'm dead tired of the push! Let's have a picked crowd,–friends of "the highly contracting parties," you know.

Jack (in imitation). Yes, ahem, he has–power–ahem,–power is–power is a wonderful thing, a wonderful thing!

Mrs. De S. Let that slide now, and go into a committee of the whole on decorations.

Miss H. (throws down her darning). Jennie, you'll have an attack! I won't be no committee! I won't encourage this nonsense. Education is all right; everybody needs a little,–enough to make an honest livin'. But look at your mother, look at your father! They're plumb wore out settin' up nights to get you graduated! 25 In my day when girls got through school they quit, they didn't go to Commencin' and carrin' on! I won't be no committee of the whole nor no other kind. When you're all dead nobody can blame me! (walks out, sniffing disdainfully).

Mrs. De S. (rising hastily). Oh, dear, now she'll go sweep every room in the house! (goes out in haste).

Maude (springs up). Mamma mustn't wear herself out. It would be all right if Auntie had graduated. (goes in haste).

Mr. De S. (gazing helplessly after them all). Matilda's Declaration of Independence! (seating himself resignedly). Draw up your chairs, gentlemen. We'll have to 'wait til the clouds roll by'.

ACT III.

Katherine The bill's been a-ringin' all morning like that. (arranges flowers).

Jack (agreeably). Good morning, Katherine. I let myself in, you not being a regiment. (Katherine goes). Good morning, Mr. Bulbus. You look pretty festive in here. (examines bouquets, reading cards aloud and commenting). "Compliments of Harold Taylor."–Umph, got them here in time, I should say. "With love of Edith."–girls always put on "with love of." "Wishing you a joyous day. Dick Dowell." That's nice of Dick, considering the late unpleasantness. "Lucile," of course; "Lucile" in white and gold! A girl couldn't graduate unless she had three 'Luciles' and a 'Maurine!' Golden Gate roses! Whew, that means dough! Professor Graham, I'll bet! He's got dough and cheek–

27Jack Don't you think I didn't know it! 'Spose I want to make the poor duffer green with envy? I can't kiss you anyway, you're too fine.

Maude Of course–one of Dick's. Nice of Dick, wasn't it? (gets one; puts it on; an operation requiring time and patience).

Jack (standing like a sign post). Then hurry up! I am not the stuff martyrs are made of.

Maude (with enthusiasm). Perfectly lovely! My, I shall be proud of you! For pity's sake, don't look at me!

Maude (in dismay). O, it isn't time, is it? O horrors, where is my essay? Jack, please look in my desk.

Maude (pacing the floor). "As a traveler, among the mighty mountains, fails to realize–to realize the heights to which he has climbed, so we, in Life's dusty pathway, cannot estimate the distance we have–we have,–cannot estimate the distance we have–" There, I knew I didn't know it! What shall I do?

Maude (unseeing, resumes). "Deep, deep are the mysteries of nature, infinite are–are–"

Maude (tears it open; reads). "My dearest Niece: Hail to the happy day! 'Way down here in South Africa, 'mong monkeys and Boers, I feel the excitement. We don't graduate down here, but we know people who do. Never, I know, has the house of De Smythe been so shaken. In honor thereof, I am sending a–a–" O, goodness, I can't–"a diamond ring,"–a diamond! Hasn't it come?

Maude (referring to the letter). He says "I am 29 sending–" Katherine is such a stupy! (calls). Katherine–

Maude Dear Uncle John! Everybody is so good! It's bigger than Valeria's. Must I wear gloves? I don't care, I just won't.

Maude (tearing away pink ribbons and tissue papers). "With Valeria's dearest love." A bonbon dish! Isn't it lovely! And violets on it!

Maude It isn't a bit too big! If you won't fill it–well, there are others. I'm forgetting my piece. "Deep, deep are the mysteries–"

Mrs. De S. Dear, dear, this is just as if you were getting married! (sinks into a chair; she has been examining the flowers). The presents and the flowers and the carriages and–and everything. O, suppose you were–suppose you were!

Mrs. De S. The drug store! Why in the world–oh, I remember now,–I sent him. We'll never get off.

Mrs. De S. (rising and collecting things dropped). I wonder what's happened now? I hope Papa isn't killed! (hurries out).

Maude (archly). Thank you, Mr. Hamilton, but aren't you a little rash? (holds roses to her face by way of contrast.)

Jack (critically). No, I think not, on mature consideration. Your hair looks like gold–California gold, and those lovely lilies! Who gave you those lilies-of-the-valley? (suddenly).

Jack O, it's redder, and then, it is a native product. You'd be mad if I said antique gold.

Jack (with infinite patience). You know what I mean, (with terrible calmness). Who gave you those?

Mr. B. (surprised into dropping a hammer). Yes'sum, I'm glad you–you like 'em. (retreats in confusion.)

Mrs. De S. What shall we do? I knew he would be late! I hope I shall not have an attack!

Mrs. De S. As if one's dress made any difference with an attack! O, there he is! Well, Papa, you–good morning, Madam.

Jack (looking up from his own Ms.) O, I forgot! Miss Baked Beans will meet us there. She couldn't come here.

Mr. De S. All ready. How many of these do we take? (indicating flowers). Need a dray?

Maude Only Jack's–and I carry them. Jack, you 32 carry my essay and fan. (puts on hat). Is it straight? Where are my roses?

Mrs. De S. O dear,–kiss me, Maudie. (sits down exhausted). It's just like a wedding! I can't stand it! Some day you'll be getting married!

Chorus We're coming! (All start, collecting fans, handkerchiefs, and gathering up trains, adjusting bonnets anew, etc.)

Maude (as they rush for the door). O, look out 33 for my flowers! Jack, got my piece? I know I shall forget! What if we're late? Good-bye, Mr. Bulbus! (all go).

Maude (reading letter and talking to herself). Well, Well! (reading). I am not angry–not in the least. You dear old girl! (drops letter and meditates). You dear old girl! (resumes reading). I know better,–you wouldn't! (reads about a page without comment, then) W-h-y! Why! O goodness gracious! Jack!

Maude (explosively). Jack, what do you think? Only fancy–Valeria is–Jack, listen! Put down your horrid paper! Valeria is married.

Jack (waking to the situation). Is that so! Valeria–well, well. I'm not astonished.

Maude (scornfully). She isn't handsome! Where are your eyes? She's clever–clever, that's what Valeria is. But not handsome,–certainly not. She squints.

Maude (with dignity). I am, I am awfully fond of 34 her–I've always been. But (cuttingly) affection doesn't blind me. I can love her and see her faults. Nobody ever called Valeria handsome.

Jack (turning the page with a prodigious rattling). Hal used to rave over her.

Maude O! Hal, he–don't rattle your paper so, you make me nervous! Hal didn't care for her.

Maude (intent on letter and all to herself). I wonder what she wore! She is too old for white. (reads aloud). "You'll be surprised, my dear." Yes, I confess I am. (gazing at coffee urn thoughtfully). Yes, I am. (resumes reading). Where was I? "I want to tell you first, dear." Here it is. So she did wear white–now, I am astonished. (reads on). For pity sakes! Jack

Jack (starts violently, crushing paper). A man might as well live on Vesuvius.

Jack (with calm certainty). The man in the Moon. He's too jolly to mind squints.

Jack (stares, then gives vent to a long whistle of astonishment). Well, you women!

Jack (ruefully). Well! (He stares, folds napkin, unfolds it and takes up his newspaper.)

Maude (sobs a little). She h-has deceived me–basely deceived me. But I don't care. I shall send her a cut-glass berry dish,–maybe a Tiffany c-c-cut! (dries her eyes resolutely). Coffee, dear?

Maude (plaintively). Don't scold me. I cannot endure much more. To think Valeria–

Jack (with decision, carving the steak). Don't think, then. Drop it. What's your other letter?

Maude (sadly). I don't care–I don't care for anything. (takes a biscuit). The biscuits are burned.

(Maude gazes pensively at nothing. Jack opens the letter with a fork, and reads silently.)

Jack (to himself, muttering). Of course, it's money,–always money. Only a dollar and fifty cents apiece,–a man ought not growl. Umph! "The happy old days." Yes, I remember.

Maude (meekly). Remember what, Jack, dear? (He reads. Silence. She folds and unfolds Valeria's letter.)

Jack (reading while he speaks). The same, my dear. We're to banquet him; it seems he's made a big speech.

Maude He was very handsome, and nice to us girls. He pulled us all through chemistry.

Jack (absently). Yes, he was a good wire puller. And now he's Senator, Senator in New York. That's great.

Jack (slowly and elaborately). Yes, my dear, the Alumni Letter,–Alumni. We graduated in 1902,–possibly you remember the circumstances. You ought to.

Maude The lace for my dress gave out,–do you remember? And I wore Paris muslin and Mamma was sick.

Maude Poor Aunty! I can see her now–so 'fraid I would forget–sitting on the edge of her chair! And those lemon drops,–I thought I should faint when Bob brought 'em up!

Maude Poor Aunty, I hope she is happier now out among the Hottentots. Aren't they Hottentots?

Jack (with scholarly precision). Your Aunt, my dear, is in Korea. Korea is an island just east of–

Maude (vaguely). Well aren't the Hottentots there, 37 too? I thought they were all together over there somewhere,–all fat and dusty together, with their queer hats like plates,–all praying and embroidering lovely silks.

Maude (taking another biscuit). Asia was always hard for me. The rivers had such dreadful names! "1902! 1902! We are the people, who are you?" What fun we had! Let's go back!

Jack Haven't time. You write 'em greetings and so on, and enclose three dollars. I wonder where old Grindem is?

Maude Old Grindem! You remember his side whiskers? I couldn't bear that man! He was horrid on Commencement day–wouldn't wait one second! Not one second! And Valeria, (she sighs heavily). Poor Valeria!

Jack (cheerfully). You looked mighty pretty that day. You didn't need any lace.

Jack (with desperate cheerfulness). And your hair was like gold,–and those lilies-of-the-valley! I remember I went so far as to think of Solomon. How is it? "Solomon in all his glory–all his glory was–was–Solomon was"–how is it?

Jack O yes–"like one of these," of course. "Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these." You were a sort of female Solomon. Not a Mrs. Solomon,–perish the thought!

Jack (still cheerfully). Who gave you those lilies? Come on–tell me now. This is a sort of anniversary when "all things shall be made clear." Old Bulbus?

Jack It was awfully hard on me, your just carrying my roses and putting old Bulbus' lilies in your Solomon hair.

Maude (rising quickly and coming round to his chair). But I have your roses, Jack, in the box with my dress! And I shall send Valeria a cut-glass berry-bowl–maybe a Tiffany cut!

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The Sweet Girl Graduates

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