Bottoms Up: An Application of the Slapstick to Satire

Chapter I: Front Matter

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BOTTOMS UP

AN APPLICATION OF THE SLAPSTICK TO SATIRE

=BY GEORGE JEAN NATHAN=

NEW YORK PHILIP GOODMAN COMPANY 1917

CONTENTS

I. Continued in the Advertising Section 5
II. We We 8
III. The Queen of the Veronal Ring 13
IV. Who’s Who in America 22
V. A Little Child Shall Lead Them 23
VI. The Letters 27
VII. Promenades With Pantaloon 34
VIII. Fanny’s Second Play 50
IX. Glossaries 59
X. Stories of the Operas 63
XI. Three Modern Dramatists 66
XII. Villainy 67
XIII. A French Vest Pocket Dictionary 69
XIV. What You Get for Your Money 72

“CONTINUED IN ADVERTISING SECTION, PAGE 290”

OR MAGAZINE FICTION À LA MODE

[_Page 290_

Unable to contain himself longer, although he realized the vast futility of it all, Massington seized her in his arms and buried her lovely eyes and hair in the storm of a thousand kisses.

“You love me, Lolo--tell me you love me!” he choked.

“No! no!” she cried, struggling from his clasp with an adorable coquetry. “No, it must not be.”

Massington, for the moment, found himself unable to speak. Then, “Why?” he asked simply, softly.

“Because,” the girl replied, with a cunning _moué_--“because

[_Page 291_

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[_Page 292_

I don’t yet know my own mind,” she finished.

Massington moved toward her. The amber glow of a small table lamp lighted up the bronze glory of Lolo’s tumbled tresses. And her eyes were as twin Chopin nocturnes dreaming out the melody of a far-off, unattainable love.

He paused before daring to lift his voice against the wonderful silence that, like midnight on southern Pacific seas, hung over her.

Presently, “When you do decide, what then?” he ventured.

“When I do decide,” she told him, “it will be forever. But ere I give you my answer, ere we take the step that must mean so much in our lives, we must both be strong enough to remember that

[_Page 293_

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[_Page 294_

Society demands certain conventions that dare not be intruded upon.” Lolo toyed with some roses on the table at her side--roses he had sent her that same afternoon.

“But, darling,” breathed Massington, “what are mere conventions for us two now?”

Lolo tore at one of the roses with her teeth. “Oh!” she exclaimed, flinging out her arm wildly toward the ugly green wall-paper of her room that symbolized everything she so hated--“Oh, I know--I know! I do not want to think of them, but I--but we--must, Jason sweetheart, we must! And life so all-wondrous, beating vainly against their iron bars and looking beyond them into paradise. We _must_ think of them,”--a little sob crept from her throat,--“we _must_ think of them!”

“Let us think, rather,” said Massington, “of that other world in which we might live, to which, Lolo dear, we might go, and, once there, be away from every one, all alone, we two--just you and I. Let us think of Spain, shimmering like some great topaz under the tropic sun; of the Pyrenees that, purpled against the evening heavens, watch over the peaceful valleys of Santo Dalmerigo; of the drowsy noons and silver moons of Italy; let us think, loved one, of the rippling Mediterranean and of

[_Page 295_

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[_Page 296_

France singing like a thousand violins under summer skies.”

Lolo did not answer.

Massington waited. “Well?” he asked.

(_To be continued in the next number._)

WE WE

_Being a pocket manual of conversation (English-French) with recognized pronunciation, and containing just and only such words and phrases as the average American needs and uses during the day in Paris._

MORNING

NOON

AFTERNOON

EVENING

NIGHT

TWO A. M.

FOOTNOTE.

_Inasmuch as the only persons in all Paris who do not try to speak English are the Americans, it is advisable for the Americans in Paris to try speaking English and reserve their French for the United States where the only persons who do not try to speak French are the Frenchmen._

THE QUEEN OF THE VERONAL RING

_A Guaranteed Box Office Melodrama in One Act, Containing Just and Only Such Famous Melodramatic Lines as Have for Countless Years Been Successful in Evoking the Plaudits and Hisses of Melodrama Audiences._

CAST

DICK STRONG: | A hero. MARY DALLAS: | A country girl. ABNER DALLAS: | Mary’s aged father. JEM DALTON: | A villain.

SCENE: Sitting room of Abner Dallas’ home.

PLACE: A small country town in New York State.

TIME: The present day.

_When the curtain rises, the stage is in complete darkness. Mary enters, goes to centre table and turns up small oil lamp. Immediately the whole stage is lighted with a dazzling brilliance. Mary catches sight of Dalton standing in doorway L.U.E. A sinister smile is on his lips, a riding crop in his hand._

MARY

(_shrinking back_)

My God--_you_! What do _you_ want here?

DALTON

(_advancing with his hat on and switching his boot with riding crop_)

Ha, my pretty one, we shall see--we shall see.

MARY

(_in tears_)

Oh, how can you, how can you? Was it not enough that you stole my youth, that you made me what I am?

DALTON

So, my proud beauty, your spirit is broken at last! And at last I have you within my power!

MARY

Oh, God, give me strength! If I were a man, I’d _kill_ you! You are of the kind who drag women to the gutter.

DALTON

Now, now, my fine young animal! Remember--’twas you, too, who sinned!

MARY

(_sobbing wildly_)

Folly, yes--but not sin, no, no--not sin, not sin! It is the weakness of women and the perfidy of men that makes women sin.

DALTON

(_sneering_)

Sin it was--_sin_, I repeat it. You--you’re no better now than the women of the streets!

MARY

No, no! Don’t say that, don’t say that! Have pity!

(_throwing herself before him_)

See! It is a helpless woman who kneels at your feet--

DALTON

(_throwing her from him_)

Bah!

MARY

(_pleading_)

Who asks you to give back what is more precious to her than jewels and riches, than life itself--her honor!

DALTON

Enough of that! Now, you, listen to me! Do as I say and I can make a lady of you--you shall be dressed like a queen and move in society, loved, honored and famous. This I offer you if--if you will become my wife.

MARY

Your wife! Not if all the gold of the world were in your hands, and you gave it to me. Your wife--never--never--not even to become a lady! Before I’d be your wife I’d live in rags and be proud of my poverty! There is the door--_go_!

DALTON

Not so fast, my girl!

MARY

I’ll do what thousands of other heartbroken and despairing women have done--seek for peace in the silence of the grave!

DALTON

(_sneeringly_)

Well, what _will_ you do?

MARY

Stand back! Let me pass. If you lay your hand on me, I’ll--

DALTON

Ha!

(_He advances upon her and makes to seize her in his arms. She struggles, screams. Enter Dick, revolver drawn_)

DICK

What’s the meaning of this? _Speak!_

DALTON

(_to Mary, airily_)

Who is this young--this young _cub_?

(_aside_)

Damnation!

DICK

(_advancing_)

I’ll show you soon enough, you fighter of _women_!

DALTON

(_in a superior tone, loftily ignoring the insult_)

Hm, you Americans are a peculiar lot. But I suppose your manners will improve as your country grows older.

DICK

Oh, I see! So you’re an Englishman, aren’t you? Englishmen never believe how fast we grow in this country. They won’t believe that George Washington ever made them get out of it, either, but he did!

DALTON

Ah, my dear fellow, _our_ country has grown up of its own accord, but _you_ have to get immigrants to help _you_ build up _your_ country--and what are they?

DICK

That’s so: they don’t amount to anything until they come over here and inhale the free and fresh air of liberty. Then they become _American citizens_ and they amount to a great deal. We build up the West and feed the world!

DALTON

Feed the world! Oh, no! Certainly you don’t feed England!

DICK

Oh yes we do! We’ve fed England. We gave you a warm breakfast in 1776, a boiling dinner in 1812--and we’ve got a red-hot supper for you any time you want it!

DALTON

(_insolently_)

’Pon my word, you amuse me.

DICK

(_sarcastically_)

You don’t say so!

DALTON

And if it wasn’t for this

(_he smiles sneeringly_)

lady--

DICK

(_stepping quickly to Dalton, raising his hand as if to strike him_)

By God, if you were not so old, I’d----

MARY

(_wildly_)

Dick! Dick!

DICK

(_to Dalton, face to face, pointing to door_)

Now, then, you worthless skunk--you get straight the hell out of here!

(_Dalton looks first at Dick, then at Mary. Then, with a cynical laugh, shrugs his shoulders and exits_)

MARY

(_throwing herself in Dick’s arms and burying her head on his breast_)

Dick----

DICK

(_stroking her hair fondly_)

Have courage, sweetheart; do not cry. Everything will turn out for the best in the end.

MARY

You have the courage for both of us. Every blow that has fallen, every door that has been shut between me and an honest livelihood, every time that clean hands have been drawn away from mine and respectable faces turned aside as I came near them, I’ve come to you for comfort and love and hope--and have found them.

DICK

My brave little woman! My brave little woman! How you’ve suffered in silence! But brighter days are before us.

MARY

(_pensively_)

Brighter days. I try to see them through the clouds that stand like a dark wall between us.

DICK

You must not heed such black thoughts, my angel.

MARY

(_sadly_)

I’ll do my best to fight them off--for your sake, _our_ sake.

DICK

There’s a brave dear! And now, good-bye, dearest, until to-morrow. Remember, when the clouds are thickest, the sun still shines behind them.

(_exits_)

MARY

(_alone_)

Oh, my Dick, my all, may God protect you!

(_A pause. Then enter Abner, carrying a gun_)

MARY

(_in alarm_)

Father! What are you doing? Where are you going?

ABNER

I’ve heerd all! I’m a-goin’ t’ find the varmint who wronged ye, and when I find him, I’m a-goin’ t’ _kill_ him, _kill_ him--that’s all!

MARY

Stop, dad! You know not what you do!

ABNER

(_with a sneer_)

_You!_ A fine daughter! A fine one to speak t’ her old father who watched over her sence her poor mother died, who slaved for her with these two hands, who----

MARY

(_interrupting_)

Oh, father, that is cruel! Nothing that others could do would hurt me like those words from you. I have suffered, father; I would rather starve than----

ABNER

(_brusquely_)

A fine time now fer repentance!

MARY

(_in tears_)

Mercy! Mercy! Have mercy!

ABNER

Mercy, eh? Well, I kalkerlate such as you’ll get no mercy from me!

MARY

(_wildly_)

I was young and innocent; I knew nothing of the world.

ABNER

Go! And never darken these doors again!

(_he throws open the door; the storm howls_)

Go! Fer you will live under my roof no longer! Thus I blot out my daughter from my life forever, like a crushed wild flower.

MARY

Oh, father, father! You don’t, you won’t, you _can’t_ be so cruel!

(_exits_)

ABNER

(_slams door; stands a moment at knob; then goes slowly to table and picks up Mary’s photograph. He looks at it; his eyes fill with tears_)

I’ll set by that winder, and set and set, but she, my little one, ’ll never come back, never come back. Oh, my little girl, my little girl! I’ll put this here lamp in the winder to guide my darlin’ back home t’ me.

(_he totters toward the window_)

CURTAIN

WHO’S WHO IN AMERICA

=LIPINSKI, Abraham=, editor; _b._ Mogilef, Russia, August 16, 1869; _s._ Isidor and Rachel (Hipski); _m._ Sarah Gondorfsky, of Syschevka, Russia, 1889, Leah Ranalowski, of New York, 1897, Minna Rosensweig, of New York, 1906. Editor, the Socialist Quarterly, the Russian-Jewish Gazette. _Author_: “Freedom for the Poles,” “The Case for the Russian Peasants,” “The Dangers of Democracy” and sixteen children. _Address_: New York, New York.

=O’CALLAHAN, Patrick Michael=, public official; _b._ Dublin, Ireland, December 6, 1873; _s._ Seumas and Bridget (O’Shea); _m._ Mary Shaughnessy, of Glennamaddy, Ireland, February 12, 1890; came to New York, 1891, and was on police force 1891-2, leader 12th Assembly District, New York, 1893; 13th Assembly District 1894; 14th Assembly District 1895; commissioner of docks and ferries, New York, and treasurer of the board, 1896; Tammany Hall leader 1895.... _Address_: New York, New York.

=DREZETTI, Pietro=, charity organizer; _b._ Milan, Italy, October 10, 1873; _s._ Garibaldi and Maria (Arezzo); _m._ Rocca Frignano, of Giovinnazo, Italy, 1897; came to New York 1892 and began as bootblack; leader 6th District Republican Rally Club 1899-1904; organized Italian Charities League, 1906; president and treasurer Italian Charities League, 1906--, Italo-American Chowder Club, 1907--, Italian Immigrant Relief Society, 1908--, Italian Workmen of the World, 1908--. _Address_: New York, New York.

=CHILLINGS, Algernon Ronald=, playwright; _b._ Manchester, England, December 9, 1871; _s._ Hubert and Gladys (Windcourt); was actor in London, 1889-1903; came to America 1904; has written four American plays, “Lord Dethridge’s Claim,” “The Savoy at Ten,” “The Queen’s Consort,” and “Lady Cicely’s Adventure.” Has lectured on the American drama at Yale and Harvard Universities. Vice-president Society of American Dramatists. _Address_: New York, New York.

=OBERHALZ, Gustav=, ex-congressman; _b._ Düsseldorf, Germany, May 20, 1868; _s._ Ludwig and Hannah (Draushauser); _m._ Kunigunde Kartoffelbaum, of Teklenburg, Germany, 1884, Theresa Waxel, of Neuholdensleben, Germany, 1889; came to America in steerage 1886; joined the Deutsche Gesellschaftsverein 1886 and became its president in 1896; merged this organization in 1897 with the Vaderland Bund; presented his native city with a library in 1898. _Author_: “Deutschland und Der Kaiser.” _Address_: Brooklyn, New York.

“A LITTLE CHILD SHALL LEAD THEM”

---- ----

The snow swirled against the window in great gusts. Agatha Brewster sat looking into the flaming grate.

“What’s the matter, mamma dear?” asked Betty, her little daughter. “You look so sad--_and this is Christmas eve_.”

Agatha did not answer. She could not trust her voice. There was a mist before her eyes. She sat there thinking, thinking, thinking. It was just a year ago tonight that Dave, her husband, had parted from her in anger. Since then no word, no letter--nothing but endless conferences with that hideous lawyer, the unbearable condolences of well-meaning friends, the dull heart-ache, the thought of little Betty....

Betty crept noiselessly down the stairs.

“Papa! Oh, papa! My papa!” she cried. “You’ve come home again. Won’t Santa Claus be glad!”

Brewster, his eyes suddenly blinded with tears, grabbed the sweet child to his breast and hugged her, oh, so close! And then, bending down, he kissed the brave little woman at his side.

_The End._

* * * * *

_If you want to read the parts of this story that have been left out to save ink, you will find the whole thing in any issue of any 15 cent magazine. I say any issue, but if you want to make doubly sure, get any Christmas issue._

THE LETTERS

AN ALPHABETICAL PROBLEM PLAY AFTER THE MANNER OF PINERO, HENRY ARTHUR JONES, AND OTHER DRAMATISTS OF A BYGONE DAY.

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Bottoms Up: An Application of the Slapstick to SatireChapter I: Front Matter

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