R I frvach i International Copyright*! fin England, her Colonies, and th United States) Edition of the Work* of th Beat Atthora ft) No. 267- Those Husbands of Ours JESSIE A. tBLLEY , ww, m gMa f tfO pter NMmi by the publthr. and **rmlMlOB fr nh prformne matt b* b- Uind b*f or* prf nmMC* r given. Thi nolle* does net apply te meteurs, wh Kay perftrm the pity wltheut permlBlon. All uneuthoriMd prefeselMwI pcodtUn will be praeoute4 to t> foil extMt l tb* law. YORK SAMUEL FRENCH If WIST 49TH Siun LONDON SAMUEL FRENCH, LTD. 26 SOUTHAMPTON STUB* STRAND CALIFORNIA _..*% SANfll CONSOLATION act. By Charles George. 5 females. EenorTModern costumes. 30 minutes. This little play, built for laughing purposes only, has to do with the adventures of Mrs. Wilson Andrews in a hospital. She is on the verge of a nervous breakdown and her physi cian orders her to a hospital for complete rest, quiet and proper diet. She gets none of these things. The last straw is reached when she is visited by Mrs. Frisby, who comes to offer consolation in the form of _ conversation composed chiefly of who has died of ailments similar to Mrs. Andrews . Mrs. Andrews arises from her bed and wrapping the bed clothes around her, makes a dash for a taxi across the street and for freedom. (Budget Play.) Price, 50 cents. THE TALE OF A SHIRT Comedy. I act. By Leon Edward Joseph. 8 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 30 minutes. In a hand laundry the employees discuss the lowdown on the townspeople as revealed by the various garments in the wash. A new ironer is tried. She is the daughter of the family who formerly owned the old mansion which is now used by the laundry. Her love story is developed through a man s shirt, even though it gets scorched, and it comes to a happy ending though the man is never seen. (Budget Play.) Price, 50 cents. JUST WOMEN Comedy. I act. By Colin Clements. 7 females. Interior. This play can be done in either mid- Victorian or modern costumes. 30 minutes. From the thousands of plays submitted to him every year, Prof. George P. Baker selected this as one of the best comedies sent to him by a candidate for his class, to which only twelve members are admitted each year- Price, 50 cents. (No Royalty.) Those Husbands of Our in *ite ct BT /ESSIE A. KELLE1 , 1913, BY SAMUIL FRENCH PUBUBHBE 25 WEST 45TH STUET LONDOW SAMUEL FRENCH, In 26 SOUTHAMPTON STRAND THOSE HUSBANDS OP OURS. CAST OF CHARACTERS. .Indignant Wives. MRS. JONES, MRS. SMITH, MRS. BROWN, MRS. SHAW, MRS. WHITE, MRS. GREEN, MRS. BLACK (who has to laugh.) COSTUMES. Modem. STAGE. A curtain is not necessary but may be used if desired. The stage should be arranged to repre sent a living room in the utmost disorder possible lace curtains tied in knots, clothing of all descrip tions on floor, chandelier and chairs matches, cards, pipes, papers, and dirty dishes everywhere the more littered and ridiculous the better. NOTES. Give jokes and stories very slowly thus allowing the audience time to see the point. Prac tise the story telling thoroughly a story is made or spoiled in the telling more remarks and ques tions should be interpolated during the story tell ing. Use local names everywhere. There is abund ant opportunity for this and nothing takes so wD as local hits. Act out everything possible. Those Husbands of Ours. (Enter MRS. JONES with suitcase and umbrella. She stands sideways just inside doorway, look" ing out through door, supposedly at kitchen.) MRS. JONES. Well, I never! Did you ever see such a looking kitchen in all your born days? I declare, I wouldn t have believed it possible that one lone man could have so thoroughly upset things in one short week. Catch me ever leaving him to keep house alone again! He thought I was get ting tired and needed a rest so he talked with Smith and Brown and Shaw and White and Green and Black and they all decided their wives needed a little vacation so they induced us to go off together for a week said they d get along " fine and dandy." (disgustedly) Fine and dandy, indeed! (drops suitcase and umbrella, looks around living room, throws out hands) Well, if this is what they call fine and dandy, what on earth would it be if it wasn t fine and dandy? (looks towards kitchen again) Think I ll need a year s vacation after I get that kitchen in shape. Isn t that sink a sight! Chock full of dirty dishes ! I didn t know I had so many dishes in the house. And more in this room! (picks up chafing dish from table) I declare if he hasn t fried beefsteak in my chafing dish and com pletely ruined it. Oh, dear me! And here s my best cut glass dish full of garbage, (smells) Phew! Such a looking place 1 Slept on the couch too 8 4 THOSE HUSBANDS OF OURS. lazy to go up stairs. I don t believe the rest of the women will find such looking houses, (sinks down in chair with long drawn sigh and begins taking off wraps) Well, I might as well take off my things, get some water on heating and go at it but it s a worse task than Hercules had cleaning out the Au gean stables. (Knock at door, MRS. SMITH with shawl over head enters without waiting to be admitted stops just inside door, holding up hands in surprise.) MRS. SMITH. I ll be jiggered, I didn t believe a worse looking house than that husband of mine had left could be found in all Christendom but I do believe this is a mighty close second. MRS. JONES. Did you see that sink full of dishes in the kitchen? You don t mean to say yours is as bad as that? MRS. SMITH, (gesticulating) Yes, sink full of them then an overflow on chairs, floor and table ashes a foot thick all around the kitchen stove, grease spots everywhere likewise cat-hairs, my very best china dish broken in a hundred pieces and {Knock MRS. JONES goes to door. MRS. BROWN with tablecloth under her arm rushes excitedly past her and shakes out tablecloth which if covered with great black blotches.) MRS. BROWN, (angrily) Just look at that, will you? My very, very best embroidered tablecloth that I spent hours and hours and hours embroider ing and that husband of mine has used it for a dish towel not only for the china but for pots, pans and kettles. Isn t that enough to make a saint mad. (sarcastically) That s what comes when your husband insists that you need a little vacation. THOSE HUSBANDS OP OTOS. 1 Black as my shoe I I can never get it white again in this world. MRS. SMITH. Isn t it an awful shame? I de clare I m almost afraid to look around my house much. MRS. JONES. Too bad! {picks up from the floor a very black looking cloth) Well, here s one of my embroidered napkins that has evidently been used to wipe the stove although I see no sign of the stove ever having been wiped. {Knock at door.) MRS. JONES. Come in. (Enter MRS. SHAW.) MRS. SHAW. What a looking place! MRS. JONES. I suppose your husband has kept yours looking as neat as wax. MRS. SHAW. To tell you the truth I haven t got my courage up enough to go out in the kitchen yet but of all the looking sitting rooms you ever saw in your life mine is the " beatingest." (gesticulates) Lace curtains tied up in knots like a horse s tail, ceiling smoked blacker than the ace of spades and I should think a cyclone had struck the furniture. Aren t you glad we have such thoughtful husbands to send us away for a week to rest? (nods and sar castic remarks} Thought I d just run in to see how yours looked. Well, misery likes company. (Knock MRS. WHITE enters with water ^ parently full of tobacco ashes. Acts as if it were very heavy goes to centre of stage and tuts it down places hands on hips and throws oack head.) MRS, WHITE. There, look at that, will you? THOSE HUSBANDS OF OUBS. Thafs what I found in the middle of my mahogany parlor table and I believe there s five pails full on the floor and bushels of burnt matches. I should think that husband of mine had invited the whole town in while I was gone and they d smoked ince- santly day and night (Exclamations of " Monsters! " " Beasts t " etc.) MRS. WHITE, (looking around room) I don*li believe your husband is a model of neatness either, Mrs. Jones. MRS. JONES, (sarcastically) Hardly. MRS. WHITE. In what condition did you find your house, Mrs. Smith? MRS. SMITH. Words cannot describe it MRS, WHITE. And yours, Mrs. Brown? MRS. BROWN. Ditto, in italics, (MRS. GREEN rushes in with sheets under arm spreads them out as others gather around her.) MRS. JONES. More trouble. MRS. GREEN. I made up my five beds all clean before I left home and this is a sample of the con dition of the sheets. Every bed been slept in (stop ping between each word) by men with boots on and muddy boots at that, and besides they ve evidently polished their boots with the blankets, used my dresser covers for towels and my best down puff for a bath mat. MRS. JONES. I really didn t realize we had such a depraved lot of husbands. MRS. WHITE. They re perfect barbarians. MRS. SHAW. Suppose they think they were lead ing the simple life. My husband is always prating about the simple life to me. MRS. SMITH. My husband had a spell of that but I cured him of it mighty quick. MRS. SHAW. I d like to know how you did it THOSE HUSBANDS OF OUES. 7 I get simple life for breakfast, dinner and supper. He says there is no need of this cry of the high cost of living it s the cost of high living and if we d only drop our extravagant ways and do as our grandfathers and grandmothers did this howl of the High cost of living would very soon die out. MRS. JONES. Yes, that s just what I hear. MRS. BROWN. Just what my husband says! MRS. WHITE. Same old story at my house. MRS. GREEN. How did you stop it Mrs. Smith? MRS. SMITH. Let s sit down and I ll tell you. (all sit) Well, I stood it just about as long as I could, knowing he was smoking twenty-five cent cigars, joining expensive clubs, hiring taxicabs, etc., so one morning after he had had an unusually sev ere attack of simple life, economy and so forth, I decided I d settle the simple life question for him once and forever. As soon as he got away to the office I called in a furniture mover, we took all the comfortable, chairs, couch, tables, etc., down in the basement, took up all the rugs, left the floors all bare, took down all the pictures, put away all the china, cut glass and silver, then we got down a few rickety, uncomfortable chairs that had been dis carded years ago, set up an old bedstead with a humpy straw tick, put a couple of cracked yellow bowls and some cheap spoons on the dining room table, got an old clay pipe and some of the cheapest tobacco I could find, shut off the gas and waited for the simple life man. (Laughter, chorus, " Good for you," " Bright idea" " Guess that fixed him," etc.) MRS. BROWN. It must have been a forsaken- looking house. What did he say when he got home ? MRS. SMITH, (laughing heartily) Oh, it was too funny for anything. He came in the door, 8 THOSE HUSBANDS OP OUES. stopped, looked around, then put his hand to hii head as if he couldn t believe his eyes. MRS. SHAW. Perhaps he thought he d been at the club too long. MRS. SMITH. Then the storm broke. "What does this mean?" he roared. "The simple life," I said sweetly, " we ve begun to live it, just like our grandparents, bare floors, straight chairs, no use less bric-a-brac that needs a maid to take care of (that was one of his stock quotations) and I can do all my own cooking since we have returned to the primitive life. We are going to have cold johnny cake and milk for supper " and I pointed to the two desreputable yellow bowls on the table. " No more extravagance in this household." I added. MRS. JONES. Turned the tables on him good, didn t you? MRS. BROWN. Wasn t he awful mad? MRS. SMITH. He gave a roar like a caged lion and started to light the gas but it was shut off. " No more gas," says I blandly, " our grandparents got along nicely with candles/ and I lighted one little flickering candle. " Woman," he howled, " what have you done with the furniture? " " I ve put it in the basement until we can sell it ? " but before I had the sentence finished he was half way down the street and in a few minutes came back with two men who immediately got to work putting back rugs, furniture, pictures, etc., and I ve never heard simple life mentioned from that day to this. MRS. SHAW. I ll try it to-morrow. (Chorus, so will I, yes, indeed, etc.) MRS. JONES, (rising and going over to window, examines draperies) My lace curtains are ruined tid up in hard knots (trigs to untie them others THOSE HUSBANDS OF OUES. Walk around, examining things, pick up burnt matches, straighten chairs, cushions, etc.) MRS. WHITE, (taking pail of ashes from tablt) Here s a pail of ashes to match mine and pipes pipes pipes (holds up pipe after pipe) MRS. SMITH. Look at these stacks of cards! MRS. BROWN, (to MRS. JONES) Does your hus band play poker? MRS. JONES. No-o I don t think so but I must say the sick friends he visits evenings borrow a good deal of his money. MRS. WHITE. He s probably deceiving you about the sick friends he visits. My husband said to me the other day " Do you think I could deceive my own little wife?" "No," says I, "I know you could not but I believe you are silly enough to try." MRS. GREEN. My husband doesn t like dancing. MRS. JONES. What objection has he to danc ing? MRS. GREEN. He says it s merely hugging set to music. MRS. SHAW. Which does he object to, the hug ging or the music? MRS. GREEN. Oh, the music, of course. MRS. JONES, (holding up cushions) Look at my brand new cushions! MRS. BROWN, (picking up boots) Evidently wore rubber boots to bed. MRS. GREEN, (holding up different articles) Shirts, coats, papers on every chair! MRS. JONES. He will persist in using this room for a bedroom if I m away, (shakes out pajamat and folds them up.) MRS. BROWN. " Shoes are on the chiffonier, Trousers on the floor, Shirts upon the chandelier, Wife s been to the shore." MRS. GREEN, (going over to couch) What hafl he been doing with the bedclothes! 10 THOSE HUSBANDS OF OUES. MRS. SMITH. Guess all the clothes he owns are on the floor. (MRS. JONES looks under couch.) MRS. WHITE. What are you looking under the couch for? MRS. JONES. Well, since that husband of mine has taken to automobiling I find that he often crawls under the bed and I didn t know but he might be there now. MRS. BROWN. Force of habit, eh? Some folks would sell their homes for an auto. MRS. JONES. My husband said we wouldn t need a home after we got the auto and (looking around ruefully and sighing) he certainly seems to have tried his best to destroy it. MRS. SHAW. It took Charlie Young a year to make up his mind what kind of an auto to buy and I understand he was only two weeks picking out his wife. MRS. GREEN. Probably thought he could dispost of his wife easier than he could of his auto. MRS. SMITH. Ever hear about George Kendall the first time he saw a big touring car ? (chorus No, tell us What about it? etc.} MRS. SMITH. A big touring car filled with swell looking men whizzed past him leaving a trail of bluish smoke and the usual smell. " Gee," says he, " them may be swell city fellers but they certainly was smoking some durned awful smelling cigars." (laughter) MRS. WHITE. You know when Albert Black was looking at automobiles he said he didn t know whether to buy a gasoline or limousine asked the man which he thought smelled worse. MRS. JONES, (shaking out bedclothes) I don t aee how he ever got these clothes in such a mess. MRS. BROWN, (going over to couch) Think your THOSE HUSBANDS OF OURS. 11 husband must be rather restless. Isn t he a sound sleeper ? MRS. JONES. Sound? I should say so! The sound he makes can be heard half a mile. MRS. GREEN. Snores, does he, eh? That makes me think of the time Mr. Small went to Chicago. He had got settled in his berth sound asleep and was snoring away at an awful rate when the man in the upper berth leaned over the edge and yelled at him, " Hi, you, down there are you rich ? " " Hey, what do you want?" sleepily answered Mr. Small, after several repetitions of the question. I say, " are you rich ? " " What do you mean by waking me up to ask me such a question as that ? " "I want to know, that s why." " Well it s none of your business," says Mr. Small, " but to gratify your curiosity I ll tell you I ant rich." " Well, then, why in thunder don t you charter a whole train to do your snoring in?" (laughter and remarks) MRS. BROWN. My husband sleeps so sound you can hardly wake him. The other night some one was yelling fire at the top of his voice and I finally got him partly awake and told him to slip on his trousers and go down and see where the fire was. He was still half asleep, got his trousers on hind side before, started for the stairs and fell down the whole flight. I rushed after him and said, "Are you hurt ? " " No," says he, looking at his trousers, " but I must have got an awful twist." (laughter and remarks) MRS. JONES. I get madder and madder the more I look at these rooms. I m going out in the sitting room and telephone to that husband of mine. He s probably at the club. MRS. SMITH. Going to call him up to call him down, eh? MRS. JONES. Yes, I am. (walks over to tele- phone, rings and gives number) Holloa, Com mercial Club? (pause) I want to speak to my IS THOSE HUSBANDS OF OTTB8. husband, (pause) How do you know? I haven t told you who I am yet? (pause, then slams up receiver) (Chorus W hat is it? What is the matter? etc.) MRS. JONES, (indignantly) The impudent thing! Said my husband wasn t there before I told him who I was and when I said so he said it was quite unnecessary to know who I was nobody s husband was ever by any chance there. MRS. WHITE. Orders from those husbands of ours. MRS. GREEN. Oh, these monsters of men ! Why did we ever marry them, (sinks down in chair, tht rest also sit) MRS. JONES. Why did we marry them? I sup pose for the same reason lots of women buy dogs and parrots they see other women have them and don t realize what a trial they are. MRS. SMITH. Men are like jobs when you need them and want them they re not there. When you don t need them and don t want them they re thicker n flies in fly time. MRS. BROWN. If a man hasn t anything he s mighty willing to promise to give you half of it but if he has anything it s mighty hard to get a nickel without false pretences. MRS. SHAW. Does your husband give you an allowance ? MRS. BROWN. He did one month but he was so mad because I spent it before he could borrow it back that he never would again. Men are like con tracts if you once sign away your rights you nevef get them back. MRS. WHITE. That husband of mine told me be fore I married him that if I would only be his wife I d be treated like an angel. Mu. GREEN. Well, you have, haven t you? THOSE HUSBANDS OF OURS. IS Nothing to eat and less to wear. That s like an angel. MRS. JONES. Well, scientists say man is seventy- five percent water so I suppose we shouldn t take any stock in him. My husband promised if I d marry him that I could look for an easy life and plenty of money. He was right I am still looking and presume I shall keep on looking the rest of my life. MRS. GREEN. Talk about promises, being treated like angels and all the rest. Do you know that a little while ago I burned all the letters my husband wrote me before we were married ? MRS. WHITE. Haven t you any sentiment? MRS. GREEN. I did it in self defence. If any one got hold of those letters after his death they d dispute his will on the ground of insanity. He s willed everything to me and I m not going to take any chances. MRS. WHITE. I think I ll do the same with mine, it s too much risk to keep them. MRS. SMITH. Maud Phillips was wise that she didn t marry that Haskell fellow. MRS. BROWN. What was the trouble? Wasn t her father on his side? MRS. SMITH. No, he was in back of him with number elevens on. MRS. SHAW. They say they d die for you and can t even remember to bring home a pound of butter. MRS. WHITE. Probably it s so greasy it slips their minds. I do hate this everlasting finding fault with the food. Oh, it used to be, "We ll live on bread and kisses," now when I put a nice angel cake on the table he snarls, " You call that thing angel food?" MRS. GREEN. Tell him if that doesn t suit him you can give him some devilled crabs be more in keeping with his disposition. Do you know I think a man is a good deal like a camel? 14 THOSE HUSBANDS OF OTTRS. MRS. JONES. Why? MRS. SMITH. I don t see why a man is like a camel. MRS. GREEN. Because he s always got his back up. MRS. JONES. I think married men are a good deal like lamps. MRS. SHAW. Married men like lamps? MRS. JONES. Yes, married men like lamps. MRS. WHITE. Why? MRS. JONES. They go out sometimes nights when they shouldn t. MRS. BROWN. Do you know my dog did the cutest thing the other day. My husband was finding fault with everything and everybody. MRS. SHAW. As usual. MRS. BROWN. Yes, as usual and that dog went and got his muzzle and laid it right down at my husband s feet. MRS. SHAW. Pretty good hint for him to shut up. They find fault with everything when they feel like it and then expect you to make up any time they say the word. My husband went off Grosser than a bear the other morning and came home at night with a package which he tried very hard to make me ask about. I wouldn t let on I noticed it so finally he said, " Aren t you curious to know what is in this package ? " " Not very," says I coolly. " Well, it s something for the one I love best in the world." "Oh, is that so?" says I, "then it must be those suspenders you said you needed." MRS. GREEN. I read a pretty good piece on matrimony the other day. I think I have it in my pocket now. (Chorus. Read it. Oh, lefs hear it, etc. MRS. GREEN reads AUNT HETTY on Matrimony to bt found in Dick s Dutch, French and Yankee Dialect Recitations.} THOSE HUSBANDS OF OTTBS. 16 MRS. JONES. Idiots! Yes and there s Mary Cameron been married six times. MRS. GREEN. Well, she married three pairs of lemons trying to get a peach. MRS. WHITE. Still Mr. Rapp swells up with pride (rises and imitates) when making his political speeches and says he doesn t hesitate to admit that whatever he is to-day is due to the influence of his wife. MRS. GREEN. That s right, always blame the woman, (laughter) MRS. JONES. That man is too lazy and too mean to live. When some one asked him why he didn t join the business men s gymnasium class at the V. M. C. A. he said he didn t need any calisthenics he got all the exercise he needed building the fire every morning. MRS. SMITH. What kind of a fire wood or ^oal? Lots of ashes, I suppose. MRS. JONES. No, they use a gas stove and he has to light a match. MRS. BROWN. Have you noticed that his little boy is wearing glasses ? Poor little chap ! MRS. SHAW. What a pity! Are his eyes in poor condition? MRS. BROWN. No, the boy doesn t need glasses at all but it s a pair his grandfather used before he died and that old curmudgeon makes the boy wear them says it s a shame to waste them, (groans, shakes of head, etc.) MRS. SMITH. Well, I call that the limit for mean ness. Going back to cooking, do you know I can make a veal cutlet look like a turkey. MRS. SHAW. A veal cutlet look like a turkey! Huh, I can do better than that. MRS. SMITH. What, I d like to know. MRS. SHAW. I can make my husband look like a lobster. 16 THOSE HUSBANDS OF OITES. MRS. SMITH. That s a pretty good trick to know. How do you do it? MRS. SHAW. When he conies prowling home about two o clock in the morning make him try say ing " Smith s spirit flask split Phillip s sixth, sister s squirrel s skull." (laughter) CHORUS. Good. We ll try it etc. MRS. SHAW. If he gets through that safely have him try, " Geraldine, give Grimes, Jim s gilt gig whip and goggles. He s going joy riding in the jinrikisha after ginseng." (more laughter) MRS. SHAW. If he says that all right, I let him in. If he can t, he has to sleep in the auto house. MRS. WHITE. I should think he would look like a lobster after that. Do you ever try having them count a dish full of beans when they get home late? That s a pretty good test. My husband said he never believed there were so many beans in the world until he tried to count them at three o clock in the morning. MRS. GREEN. My husband was at a smoker at the club Saturday night and didn t get home until one o clock. MRS. JONES. Is that why he wasn t at church Sunday morning? MRS. GREEN. No, he says the ventilation is so poor in church and the atmosphere gets so heavy that he can t keep awake. MRS. SMITH. Too bad about him! Presume you couldn t cut the air with a knife at his old smoker. Have you ever heard about the time Al. Brett went to church? MRS. BROWN. Didn t know he ever went. MRS. SMITH. He did, once. When the man passed the contribution box he leaned over and, in a stage whisper, said, " Excuse me, I can t vote. I haven t got out my papers yet." MRS. BROWN. Makes me think of John Wilbuft THOSE HUSBANDS OF OURS. 17 He s a policeman you know. When they pass the contribution box he just shows his badge. MRS. SMITH. Suppose he thinks that will pass him through the pearly gates. MRS. SHAW. Talk about waiting for women to get ready ! I always have to wait and wait for my husband Sunday morning before he can tear him self away from his old Sunday paper. MRS. WHITE. Same at my house. He asked me once if I died first if I d wait for him on the other shore. I told him if I didn t it would be the first religious service I didn t wait for him. MRS. BROWN. I don t go to the Congregational Church any more. MRS. SHAW. What grudge have you against the Congregational Church? MRS. BROWN. A very decided grudge. It wag in the Congregational Church I first met my hus band. MRS. WHITE. I saw an awful funny thing in Church the other Sunday. MRS. GREEN. Tell us about it. MRS. WHITE. You know Mr. Reynolds is very deaf and always has to carry a large ear-trumpet. We have a new usher, a Scotchman, Mr. Burns, and he d never seen an ear-trumpet before so he watched Mr. Reynolds very closely and when he saw him start to raise the trumpet he could stand it^no longer so hurried over to him, shook a warning finger emphatically at him and said, " One toot and you re oot." (laughter) MRS. GREEN. Speaking of bodily afflictions, Si Hastings must have a lot of trouble with his teeth. MRS. JONES. I always thought he had partic ularly good teeth. MRS. GREEN. Well, I heard him telling some on that it cost him thousands of dollars to get his eye teeth cut. 18 THOSE HUSBANDS OF OUES. MRS. JONES. Huh, I reckon it did. He and Abe Goddard are great cronies. I wonder if Abe drinks hard now. MRS. SMITH. Don t know whether he drinks or not, but his nose is so red it singes his mustache. MRS. BROWN. What s the matter with Sam Townsend s finger? I saw he had it all bandaged up. MRS. SHAW. He ran a splinter in it, I believe. MRS. BROWN. Ran a splinter in it? Been scratching his head ? MRS. JONES. Wooden, eh? MRS. WHITE. I hear that Hiram Atkins has joined the new Progressive party says it s as pure as the driven snow. MRS. GREEN. Huh, pure as the driven snow. Guess it s been driven through some mud. Hi thinks he s a great orator. MRS. JONES. I heard him talk about two hours the other evening. MRS. SMITH. What was he talking about? MRS. JONES. I don t know. He didn t say and it would puzzle a Dutchman to find out. MRS. SMITH. Herbert Harding is sticking to the Republican party. I believe he s running for Mayor. MRS. BROWN. Thought he believed the office should seek the man and not the man the office. MRS. SMITH. That s what he says but he ll look out to hang out a lantern and ring a bell so the office will know which way to look. MRS. SHAW. Is Tom Sharp in favor of the initiative and referendum? MRS. WHITE. His wife says he is and also the recall and local option and anything else that is an excuse for going to the polls and getting rid of a day s work. MRS. GREEN. I asked my husband what a referendum was. THOSE HUSBANDS OP OTTES. 19 MRS. JONES. He s such a politician I presume he explained it to you very clearly. MRS. GREEN. No, he said he didn t know whether it was a soft drink or part of an aeroplane. MRS. SMITH. And still they say women are not well enough informed to vote. Are you in favor of women voting, Mrs. Brown? MRS. BROWN. No, I can t say I am just at present. The men have got things into such a mess that I think they ought to clean them up themselves, then we ll step in and keep things clean. MRS. SHAW. Their politics are a good deal like their housekeeping. Pretty dirty ! MRS. JONES. Oh, dear, this dreadful house! Is there anything that a man can do better than any one else? MRS. WHITE. Lawyer Briggs says there s one thing he can do better than any other lawyer. MRS. JONES. What is that? MRS. WHITE. Says he can read his own writing. MRS. GREEN. Oh, I ought to be at home clean ing up that dreadful mess. MRS. SMITH. So ought I but I just can t get up my courage to start. (Chorus. Nor I. Oh, dear, I suppose we ll have to etc., etc.) MRS. JONES. I ll look out and get on my fighting dress to-night all right. MRS. BROWN. Your fighting dress? MRS. JONES. Yes, haven t you one? MRS. BROWN. No, I don t believe so. What is it anyway? MRS. JONES. Why, it s a dress that buttons in the front so I don t have to ask my husband to button it for me. Think I ll need all the fighting clothes I own to-night. 20 THOSE HUSBANDS OF OUES. MRS. SHAW. Does your husband like these cling ing gowns ? MRS. JONES. Clinging gowns! Yes, he likes them to cling to me about ten years. MRS. WHITE. They say the modern woman " toils not, neither does she spin " but I have to toil pretty hard and spin a good many fairy tales to get a new dress. MRS. GREEN. Isn t that so? I need a new hat most awfully. MRS. JONES. What kind are you going to get? Merry Widow? MRS. GREEN. No, " Miserable Wife " would be more appropriate. MRS. SMITH. Talk about women being partic ular and hard to suit. Why, my husband is the fussiest mortal. MRS. BROWN. I m surprised. He always dresses so quietly. MRS. SMITH. He does not. Dresses quietly! You just ought to hear him when he loses a collar button. Dresses quietly! MRS. SHAW. Henry Lee is a well dressed man. MRS. SMITH. So is a clothing store dummy. MRS. WHITE. Raymond Fox is the most partic ular man about his neckties. There are very few kinds or colors that he ll wear and they have to be just such a length and width. MRS. GREEN. Have you ever heard Mrs. Fox tell about the time she tried to pick out a necktie for him? (Chorus. No. Tell us etc.) MRS. GREEN. The clerk showed her necktie after necktie, but not one that her husband would wear. She kept telling the clerk each new one he showed her, " No, my husband wouldn t wear that. No, nor that, etc." At last, in despair, the THOSE HUSBANDS OP OUH3. 91 clerk said, " Madam you don t want a necktie. What you want is a divorce." MRS. JONES. Men make a great deal of fun of women s clothes but have you ever stopped to think how ridiculous a man s clothes are. Beginning at his head, look at the thing he wears a hideous felt thing so hard and tight that it leaves a red furrow on his forehead when it is removed. MRS. SMITH. Yes, and if it is a sixteenth of an inch higher or lower in the crown or narrower or broader in the brim than the latest model in the hatter s window it must be instantly changed no matter whether the style is becoming or not. MRS. BROWN. Think of the neck rigging! Six or eight thicknesses of cotton or linen with a string of colored silk around it, all drawn so tight that the windpipe is nearly severed. MRS. SHAW. Consider his shirt ! A stiff, board- like article supposed to lie smooth and placid but which usually cracks, breaks, rumples and pushes up under his chin like a stone wall. MRS. WHITE. And his vest! A regular sham! Queen Anne front and Mary Ann back ! Front of fich material, back of flimsy miserable cotton stuff. MRS. GREEN. Then his coat! A garment with two tails decorated with two buttons guaranteed to fasten the owner to any piece of furniture on which he happens to sit. MRS. JONES. Below the coat two cloth stove pipes for his legs. These are suspended from his shoulders by decorated rubber straps that make the creature look like a harnessed mule. MRS. SMITH. They re mules all right. The space of several inches which intervenes between the trousers and shoes is covered with a piece of colored silk or cotton unlike anything else in the surround ing landscape. And the shoes! Mud scows with turned up noses and verandas extending all around the front half of the shoe. No more the shape of 9t THOSE HUSBANDS OF OUES. the foot than the rest of the clothes are the shape of the rest of the body. MRS. GREEN. That is the lord of creation. MRS. BROWN. And yet they make fun of our clothes. " Oh, wad some power the giftie gie us. To see oursels as ithers see us ! " {Knock at door. All jump. MRS. BLACK rushes in, laughing very heartily. Holds hands on sides and laughs, sways back and forth, others surround her in astonishment, asking questions and taking hold of her. ) MRS. JONES. What is the matter, Mrs. Black? MRS. SMITH. I believe the sight of her house has driven her crazy. MRS. BLACK. (stUl laughing) No no no. MRS. BROWN. What is it then? MRS. BLACK, (still laughing) Oh oh oh you never saw anything so funny in all your life, (has another spell of laughing) MRS. JONES. Well, I guess if you had such a looking house as this you wouldn t feel so much like laughing. MRS. BLACK. Your house isn t a circumstance to mine but (laughing again) I ve laughed till I ache all over. MRS. WHITE. Do hurry up and tell us about it. MRS. BLACK. You just ought to see my husband worst looking object you ever saw in all your life, (has another spell of laughing) MRS. SHAW. What is the matter with him? MRS. BLACK, (still convulsed with laughter) Oh oh oh he evidently wanted to look youngr while I was away and tried to dye his hair and it turned it a brilliant green like a head of celery. (laughs again others join feebly) MRS. BLACK. He finally confessed said the first application turned it brindle, the second, yellow, and THOSE HUSBANDS OP OURS. 88 the third, green, and he can t budge the green. 1 found him locked up in the bedroom where h spent most of the time since I left. MRS. GREEN. It ll wear off in time, won t it? MRS. BLACK. That s what he s wondering. (laughs heartily again) Oh, it s too funny! MRS. JONES. I can t see how you can laugh so when we have such houses to clear up. (Chorus. Nor I. How can you. I don t feel as if I d ever laugh again, etc.) MRS. BLACK. Come on over all of you and take one look at him. It ll serve him right to be put on exhibition and one glance is warranted to cure the worst attack of the blues. MRS. JONES. We surely need something to make us smile again after this experience, but I think those husbands of ours should be punished in some way. CHORUS. So do I. And I, etc. MRS. SMITH. What can we do? (all think a minute ) MRS. JONES. I have it. Let s all send for our mothers to make us a long visit. CHORUS. The very thing. Good, etc. MRS. JOH/-S. That will be killing two birds with One stone. They ll help us clean up these awful houses and make those husbands of ours walk the chalk line for awhile. MRS. SHAW. I ll go right home and telephone so mother will get here before that husband of mine ^ets home. CHORUS. So will I. And I, etc. MRS. BLACK. And I ll make my husband sit at the window as you go by. (all hurry out) CURTAIN. AUNT HETTY ON MATRIMONY A YANKEE RECITATION Now, girls," said Aunt Hetty, "put dowi: your embroidery and worsted work, do some thing sensible, and stop building air castles, and talking of lovers and honeymoons. It makes me sick it s perfectly antimonial. Love is a farce; matrimony is a humbug; husbands are domestic Napoleons, Neroes, Alexanders, sigh ing for other hearts to conquer after they are sure of yours. The honeymoon is as short lived as a lucifer-match. After that you may wear your wedding-dress at the washtub, and your nightcap to meeting, and your husband won t know it. You may pick up our own pocket handkerchief, help yourself to a chair, and split your gown across the back reaching over the table to get a piece of butter, while he is laying in his breakfast as if it were the last meal he should eat in this world. When he gets through he will aid your digestion, while you are sip ping your first cup of coffee, by inquiring what you ll have for dinner, whether the cold lamb was all ate yesterday, if the charcoal is all out, and what you gave for the last green tea you bought. Then he gets up from the table, lights his cigar with the last evening s paper, that you have not had a chance to read, gives two or three whiffs of smoke, sure to give you a head ache for the afternoon, and just as his coat-tail is vanishing through the door, apologizes for not doing that errand for you yesterday, thinks it doubtful if he can to-day, so pressed with business. Hear of him at eleven o clock taking an ice-cream with some ladies at Vin- ton s, while you are putting new linings in his coat sleeves. Children by the ears all day, can t get out to take the air, feel as dizzy as a fly in a drum. Husband comes home at night, nods a how d ye do, Fan, boxes Charley s ears, stands little Fanny in the corner, sits down in the easiest chair in the warmest corner, puts his feet over the grate, shutting out all the fire, while the baby s little pug nose grows blue with the cold, reads the newspaper all to himself, solaces his inner man with a hot cup of tea, and, just as you are laboring under the hallu cination that he will ask you to take a mouth ful of fresh air with him, he puts on his dress ing gown and slippers, and begins to reckon up the family expenses! After which he lays down on the sofa, and you keep time with your needle, while he snores till nine o clock. Next morning ask him to leave you a little money, he looks at you as if to be sure you are in your right mind, draws a sigh long enough and strong enough to inflate a pair of bellows, and asks you what you want with it, and if half a dollar won t do. Gracious king! as if these little shoes and stockings and petticoats could be had for a half a dollar ! Oh, girls ! set your affections on cats, poodles, parrots or lap-dogs, but let matrimony alone. It s the hardest way on earth of getting a living; you never know when your work is done up. Think of carrying eight or nine children through the measles, chicken-pox, rash, mumps and scarlet fever, some of em twice over it makes my head ache to think of it. Oh, you may scrimp and save, and twist and turn, and dig and delve, and economize, and die, and your husband will marry again, and take what you have saved to dress his second wife with, and she ll take your portrait for a fireboard; but what s the use of talking? I ll warrant every one of you ll try it, the first chance you get there s a sort of be witchment about it, somehow. I wish one-half of the world warn t fools, and t other half idiots, I do. Oh, dear!" LADIES ALONE Comedy. I act. By Florence Ryerson and Colin Clements. 3 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 25 minutes. Three modern girls who share an apartment find them selves "dateless" on a Saturday night. They agree men are bores, and swear that they will have one "Ladies Night" every month. Inside of ten minutes two of the girls have broken their oaths and gone off with the third s only party dress and hat. When the one and only young man calls up and invites her to go dancing, Peggy solves her problem in a novel manner. Light, modern, and offers three evenly balanced parts. (Royalty $5.00.) Price, 50 cents. DON T TELL A SOUL Comedy, i act. By James Reach. 7 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 25 minutes. A highly amusing little sketch that hilariously points a very apt moral. At a dance in a fashionable hotel Gloria exhibits a scar over her eye to "one of her dearest friends," explaining she d got it hanging a picture. When the "dearest friend" passes this tidbit on, the scar has become a wound where Gloria s husband had struck her. From this point, the story gains embellishment in the manner of a snowball rolling downhill, until Gloria s husband has become a homicidal maniac, and many farcical complications has ensued. (Royalty $5.00.) Price, 50 cents. IN A BOOKSHOP Comedy. I act. By Elise West Quaife. 5 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 25 minutes. One Spring day Miss Lydia had three customers, each of whom wished to buy a book as a birthday gift for a man. These ladies did not know each other, but Miss Lydia knew them all, and she knew that it was the same man in each case. As this gradually becomes apparent, Miss Lydia finds herself an unwilling participant in a tense conflict which has a sur prise ending. It is particularly suitable for Women s Clubs, Little Theatres, and Colleges for Girls. (Royalty $5.00.) Price, 50 cents. SO WONDERFUL (IN WHITE) Drama. I act. By N. Richard Nusbaum. 9 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 25 minutes. Margaret Shipman, a nurse in training, has brought to her calling bright hope and idealism. The test of this idealism comes when Shipman is confronted with the heartbreaks of her profession: The necessity to sacrifice a personal love, Charles; injustice as typified by the formalized rigidity and mercilessness of Miss Cresson,, her superintendent ; hypocrisy and meanness as exemplified by Eleanor De Witt; and tragedy in the suicide of Janey Held, a lonely narcotic ad dict. In the last moments of the play, when cause has piled upon effect and her idealism appears entirely in cloud and shadow, there emerges a new clarity, a maturer hope. (Royalty $5.00.) Price, 50 cents. SPY ME THIS ONE Comedy. I act. By John Kirkpatrick. 7 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 35 minutes. Twice before, when Evalina s husband went away on busi ness, Evalina got into trouble. This time that charming lady takes up espionage work. With a secret service agent hiding behind a screen and the unfortunate maid locked up in a clothes-closet, Evalina prepares to receive a dangerous "spy." The "spy" no sooner arrives than in walks another, then an other and still another. Evalina puts in a very busy evening! (Royalty $5.00.) Price, 50 cents. THE DEAR, DEAR CHILDREN Comedy, i act. By Sophie Kerr. 8 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 30 minutes. Mrs. Williard is having her troubles with her daughter, Esther, who would rather play tennis with her boy friend than help her mother get things ready for the visit of the library committee. Gradually the women arrive, each having a story to tell about how her children misbehave so violently that they wear her out. But at the height of the discussion a phone call is received, and we discover that a mutual friend of the ladies has given birth to a new baby. Immediately all the women begin to plan ways of congratulating the young mother on her extreme "good fortune." (Royalty $5.00.) Price, 50 cents. THEY RE NONE OF THEM PERFECT Comedy. I act. By Sophie Kerr. 6 females, I extra. Interior. Modern costumes. 30 minutes. Amanda Bartlett, a successful young business woman, is giving a dinner party to five of her married women friends to announce to them her coming marriage. One of them asks Amanda why it is she wants to get married when she can make plenty of money and has a lovely apartment, together with servants and perfect freedom, and "without being both ered by anyone else s ways or funny little habits" ? Immediately Amanda wants to know what funny little habits her friend is talking about and one by one each married woman describes a trait in her husband which nearly drives her frantic. (Royalty $5.00.) Price, 50 cents. WALLFLOWERS Comedy, i act. By James Reach. 5 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 25 minutes. Ann Bowers is one of that species of hardy perennials the "Wallflower." Shy, plain, unsophisticated, she doesn t "rate" in any of the school activities. Finally, spurned by her roommate, told where to "get off," she decides it s no use, packs to run home to Mother. At this point, a visit is made to Briarton by Katherine Lansdown, the famous actress and one of the school s most distinguished alumni. Ann discovers that, in her own day, Katherine, too, had been a notorious "wallflower" ; discovers also that, after all, "wall flowers" do have some use in this world. (Royalty $5.00.) Price, 50 cents. THE PURPLE DOORKNOB Comedy, i act. By Walter Prichard Eaton. Simple interior (bedroom). 25 minutes. Modern costumes. An unusual comedy for three women, in which a charming young actress, seeking to buy from a bed-ridden old woman one of her antiques, achieves her end by giving the shut-in a theatrical performance in her chamber, and inducing the old lady to be one of the characters, much to the latter s de light. The chamber setting can be very simple, but must look old-fashioned. (Royalty $5.00.) Price, 50 cents. LADY KILLERS Farce. 1 act. By John Kirkpatrick. 6 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 40 minutes. Miriam s husband laughed at her when she made a speech at a college reunion. Edna, her spinster friend, advocated divorce. Lottie, who had left her husband, said the only effec tive way to get rid of a husband was to well eliminate him. Edna arranged with Bernice, who had disposed of at least two, to dispose of four more husbands Caroline and Jenny had somehow got into it too. It was a wonderful scheme: The only trouble with it was it boomeranged. Price, 50 cents. (Royalty, $5.00.) THE FIFTH WHEEL Comedy. 1 act. By Marjean Perry. 5 females. Interior. The scatterbrained Mrs. Hilda Finch, during the six months she has belonged to the Woman s Club, has managed to create a lot of turmoil by an excess of enthusiasm and imagination. Now she s planning a membership campaign to make up to everyone for past mistakes. The officers of the Club, horrified by her impractical plan, try to stop her before it s too late with mixed success. Price, 50 cents. (Royalty, $5.00.) Comedy. 1 act. By Martha Norwood Gibson. 8 females. Interior. At a meeting of the Center City Ladies Cultural League the four officers true thoughts reveal their inner selves, as they clash in a very ladylike way. The president is really rather stingy. The treasurer is beginning to look seedy. The secretary hates to wear her glasses. The vice-president can t keep her records straight. A typical club meeting with all the undercur rents brought out into the open for the audience to enjoy. Price, 50 cents. (Royalty, $5.00.) POLLY, PUT THE KETTLE ON (AND WE LL ALL HAVE TEA!) Comedy. I act. By Peggy Fernway. 7 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 35 minutes Mrs. Jason has just engaged a new colored maid named Polly. Polly has a most decided fear of ghosts. When mis chievous young Sylvia Vail learns of Polly s nervous dread of ghosts she tiptoes into the Jason living room and tells the colored maid that it is fatal to place the kettle on the stove in the Jasons house because every time the water starts to boil at night time the ghost of a former owner of the house appears ! Polly promises never to boil water in the evening and is stricken with fear when Mrs. Jason commands her to "put the kettle on we ll all have tea!" (Budget Play.) Price, 50 cents. IF WOMEN WORKED AS MEN DO Comedy, i act. By Ellen Goodfellow. 4 iemales. Interior. Modern costumes. 25 minutes. Mrs. Carew and Mrs. Bowling are business partners. Miss Arnold is their stenographer and Miss Smith is her vacation substitute. On the particular morning which the play por trays, little real work is done but considerable conversation is indulged in. The skit is a satire on the business man s excuse, "a hard day at the office," showing that it s not always as hard as it might be, or as their wives think it is. (Budget Play.) Price, 50 cents. RISING WITH GRACE Comedy. I act. By Marguerite Murray. 5 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 30 minutes. Dealing with the efforts of a newcomer from the city to help the small town women to a new and higher type of life. Their lack of culture and their settled ways and manners make her pity their narrow life. Her efforts to broaden their outlook by giving a play to raise money for the church is the first step out of the rut in which she finds them. (Budget Play.) Price, 50 cents. HE S HAYING A BABY Comedy. 1 act. By Fred Carmichael. 5 females. Interior. Modern Costumes. Shows what would happen if men and babies and women paced the floor of the maternity waiting room. As three women sit through their waiting time, many differences are brought out to show what would happen if men had babies and the way civilization would change from the running of the White House down to men s maternity suits. How each of the ladies take the news of their new children and the reaction that follows make this an ideal show. Price, 50 cents. (Budget-Non Royalty) Comedy. 1 act. By Peggy Fernway. 8 females. Interior. Bernice, in her late teens, is supposed to be taking in a movie with her girl griend, but nosey Minerva, the town gossip, spreads the word around that Bernice and Johnny have eloped. Of course, Minerva is all wrong and everything is straightened out in a surprise finish. Price, 50 cents. (Budget-Non Royalty) FLAPPER GIRLS Comedy. 1 act. By Anita Mathers. 8 females. Costumes 1927. The Flapper Girls Society is holding their annual dance and they will vote the girl who is to be Miss Flapper Girl of 1927. Linda s flapper friends assure her of their vote. But Crystal has ideas along the same lines. Crystal wins. It is at this time that Dolly, Linda s 14-year-old sister, decides to step in and take a hand in the proceedings and she does so with astonishing results. Price, 50 cents. (Budget-Non Royalty)