SPANKER
29
Oyster Loaf
grill
home like cooking
~tastily served~
DANCING
WED., FRI., SAT., SUN.
EVENINGS
FRANK ARNERICH
31 EAST SANTA CLARA STREET
SCENE ONE
Scene: The White House Kitchenette. Mrs. Cool, is seen (or should
be) cracking a large egg in a chic
morning cap and gown. Mr., still in
evening dress, looks languidly out
open door where Laddie is running
mad.
Mrs.—Cal, think, these big eggs—
Mr.—Lord, what a party!
Mrs.—For only thirty—
Mr.—Was three ahead of 'em all.
It was midnight on the ocean, not a street car was in
sight, and the veranda was empty, not a suitor hove in
view, as she held her breath and listened it was ali that
she ever had, except a dozen children. She still believed
in sailors and in the red, white and blue, but what the
devil's to do with this story except to give another point
to an unfortunate love story. For Elinor Glyn had eloped
with her second husband and hadn't a thing to do with
the masterpiece. She is the jane that really doesn't know
a thing about romance, but wrote a book about "Three
Weeks" and the "Philosophy of Love." No connection at
all to "Ten Nights in a Barroom." Hut at that the oceair
was empty except a pure Venetian moon with the sun
shining down audaciously upon the silvery waters as Elinor and her second husband still whispered sweet nothingness in one another's ears. It was midnight on the
ocean, not a street car was in sight.
SPANKER
close your eyes, count 60 and just
continue. Cal is re-seated, subdued
and calm and ever drinking water.
Mrs. is starting on a second dozen
of raw eggs, just as large and loquacious. At regular intervals, Laddie,
in measured strides, crosses before
the open door on his front feet.
Mrs.—These eggs are so big, they
must be duck eggs. Have one, Cal ?
Mr.—Water! Water! Anywhere!
Anyhow!
Mrs.—Stop, Cal. You drink too
much water for a hang-over.
Mr.—Hang-over ?
Mrs.—Hang-over!
Mr.—Did YOU ever see me hang
over?
Imagine another curtain till the
row's over.
SCENE THREE
Same again, little later. Not such
a row after all. Butter'n egg Man
brought more eggs. White of an egg
streams down past Cal's left eye,
dripping from chin onto coat lapel.
Silence. Laddie barks and shuffles
past the door on his tail. Silence,
and mixed mutters. Mrs. opens a
bottle of milk with finger—cream
spatters with dull plop on Cal's bowed
(not bowed) head. More silence, with
more mutters. From far off Laddie
barks and stands on his ears in doorway, erect and intent with much
listening. Cal rises with precision and
looks everywhere for a word. Finds a
nasty one loitering near the Mrs. and
hurls it through the air, breaking the
silence with a loud shudder. He turns
round and stares straight at us,
stage-struck. He chatters:
Mr.—This meal's a flop. I'm going
to set in at Congress and see if I can
raise any!
(Grabs a pack of Congress card?
and stands still.)
Keep your seats—Curtain delayed
till Cal gets out of the way.
Picture of a
young college
boy (first time
away from home)
about to forget
one of (he things
his mother told
him not to do.
Mrs.—Two-
Mr. (rising with fire in one eye and
an unsteady cup in the other hand)—
No! I oughta know! Three!
Mrs.—Cents a dozen.
Mr. (staggers eagerly to door for
fresh air, moaning, as he passes out,
"D. Dan McGrrrru-ulp!")
Imagine a curtain falling ri.irir
now.
SCENE TWO
Scene: Same, one minute later—
