The Bicyclers and Three Other Farces by John Kendrick Bangs (best book club books TXT) 📕

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 grimace at his ankle). Yes; but there are other fearful things in this world.

Mrs. Bradley. I shall go crazy if he isn't stopped. He'll kill himself.

Yardsley (leaving window hurriedly). I have it. Got a length of clothes-line, Mrs. Perkins?

Barlow. What the dickens--

Mrs. Perkins. Yes.

[She rushes from the room.

Mrs. Bradley. What for?

Yardsley. I'll lasso him, next time he comes around.

Perkins (with a grin). There'll be two of us! We can start a hospital on the top floor.

Mrs. Perkins (returning). Here--here's the line.

[Yardsley takes it hurriedly, and, tying it into a noose, hastens out.

Perkins (rising). If I never walk again, I must see this. [Limps to window.

Mrs. Bradley. He's coming, Mr. Yardsley; don't miss him.

Barlow. Steady, Bob; get in the light.

Mrs. Perkins. Suppose it catches his neck?

Perkins. This beats the Wild West Show.

[A crash.

All. He's got him.

[All rush out, except Perkins.

Perkins. Oh yes; he learned in a minute, he did. Easy! Ha, ha! Gad! it almost makes me forget my pain.

Enter all, asking. "Is he hurt? How do you feel?" etc. Yardsley has rope-end in right hand; noose is tied about Bradley's body, his coat and clothing are much the worse for wear.

Mrs. Bradley. Poor, dear Edward!

Bradley (weakly kissing her). Don't m-mind me. I--I'm all right-- only a little exhilarated--and somewhat--er--somewhat breathless. Feel like a bird--on toast. Yardsley, you're a brick. But that pavement--that was a pile of 'em, and the hardest I ever encountered. I always thought asphalt was soft--who said asphalt was soft?

Perkins. Easy to learn, though, eh?

Bradley. Too easy. I'd have gone on--er--forever--er--if it hadn't been for Bob.

Mrs. Bradley. I'll give it up, Ned dear, if you say so.

Mrs. Perkins (affectionately). That's sweet of you, Emma.

Bradley. No, indeed, you won't, for--er--I--I rather like it while it's going on, and when I learn to get off--

Yardsley. Which you will very shortly.

Barlow. You bet! he's a dandy. I taught him.

Bradley. I think I'll adore it.

Perkins. Buy a Czar wheel, Brad. Best in the market; weighs only twenty pounds. I've got one with a ki-yi pump and a pneumatic gun you can have for ten dollars.

Jennie (at the door). Supper is served ma'am. [Exit.

Mrs. Perkins. Let us go out and restore our nerves. Come, Emma.

[She and Mrs. Bradley walk out.

Yardsley (aside). I say, Brad, you owe me five.

Bradley. What for?

Yardsley. Bail.

Barlow. Cheap too.

Yardsley. Very. I think he ought to open a bottle besides.

Perkins. I'll attend to the bottles. We'll have three.

Barlow. Two will be enough.

Perkins. Three--two of fizz for you and Bob and the ladies, and if Bradley will agree, I'll split a quart of Pond's Extract with him.

Bradley. I'll go you. I think I could take care of the whole quart myself.

Perkins. Then we'll make it four bottles.

Mrs. Perkins (appearing at door with her arm about Mrs. Bradley). Aren't you coming?

Perkins (rising with difficulty). As fast as we can, my dear. We've been taking lessons, you know, and can't move as rapidly as the rest of you. We're a trifle--ah--a trifle tired. Yardsley, you tow Bradley into the dining room; and, Barlow, kindly pretend I'm a shawl, will you, and carry me in.

Bradley. I'll buy a wheel to-morrow.

Perkins. Don't, Brad. I--I'll give you mine. Fact is, old man, I don't exactly like feeling like a bird.

[They go out, and as the last, Perkins and Bradley, disappear stiffly through the portieres, the curtain falls.



A DRAMATIC EVENING

CHARACTERS:


MR. THADDEUS PERKINS, a victim.
MR. EDWARD BRADLEY, a friend in disguise.
MR. ROBERT YARDSLEY, an amiable villain.
MR. JOHN BARLOW, the amiable villain's assistant.
MRS. THADDEUS PERKINS, a martyr.
MRS. EDWARD BRADLEY, a woman of executive ability.
JENNIE, a housemaid.


The scene is placed in the drawing-room of Mr. and Mrs. Thaddeus Perkins, of New York. The time is a Saturday evening in the early spring, and the hour is approaching eight. The curtain, rising, discovers Perkins, in evening dress, reading a newspaper by the light of a lamp on the table. Mrs. Perkins is seated on the other side of the table, buttoning her gloves. Her wrap is on a chair near at hand. The room is gracefully over-furnished.

Mrs. Perkins. Where are the seats, Thaddeus?

Perkins. Third row; and, by Jove! Bess (looking at his watch), we must hurry. It is getting on towards eight now. The curtain rises at 8.15.

Mrs. Perkins. The carriage hasn't come yet. It isn't more than a ten minutes' drive to the theatre.

Perkins. That's true, but there are so many carriage-folk going to see Irving that if we don't start early we'll find ourselves on the end of the line, and the first act will be half over before we can reach our seats.

Mrs. Perkins. I'm so glad we've got good seats--down near the front. I despise opera-glasses, and seats under the galleries are so oppressive.

Perkins. Well, I don't know. For The Lyons Mail I think a seat in the front row of the top gallery, where you can cheer virtue and hiss villany without making yourself conspicuous, is the best.

Mrs. Perkins. You don't mean to say that you'd like to sit up with those odious gallery gods?

Perkins. For a melodrama, I do. What's the use of clapping your gloved hands together at a melodrama? That doesn't express your feelings. I always want to put two fingers in my mouth and pierce the atmosphere with a regular gallery-god whistle when I see the villain laid low by the tow-headed idiot in the last act--but it wouldn't do in the orchestra. You might as well expect the people in the boxes to eat peanuts as expect an orchestra-chair patron to whistle on his fingers.

Mrs. Perkins. I should die of mortification if you ever should do such a vulgar thing, Thaddeus.

Perkins. Then you needn't be afraid, my