Writing for Vaudeville by Page, Brett

MOE REISS: Oh, my boy! My boy! (heart-brokenly.) (Hits PHONSIE.)

GLADYS: Dh, Moe Reiss, don't you believe him?

ALGERNON: (Left of C.) Of course not, he saw you with your arms around my neck.

MOE REISS: Yes, I saw it, I seen it.

BIRDIE: I can swear to it, if necessary.

PHONSIE: I can swear too, popper, want to hear me?

MOE REISS: No, I have heard enough. Now I intend to act. (Throws off coat, L.)

ALGERNON: What do you mean?

MOE REISS: I mean that either you or I will never leave this place alive. For I tell you plainly, as sure as there is a poker game above us, I mean to kill you!

ALGERNON: (Throws off coat and hat.) Well, if it's a roughhouse you're looking for, I'm right there with the goods. (Struggle.)

PHONSIE: Give him an upper cut, popper, soak him!!!

BIRDIE: Knife him, Algernon, knife him! (Has out her hat pin.) (During struggle, PHONSIE shoots three times.) (As they struggle to window, ALGERNON turns back, and PHONSIE sees [after third shot] his vest is a target and fires three times. Bell on each shot.) Curse you, you've got me. Here are your three cigars. (Falls dead, C.)

MOE REISS: (Kneels and feels heart.) Dead!!! Who could have done this?

PHONSIE: Father, I cannot tell a lie, I done it with my little hatchet. (Shows big gun and a picture of George Washington. All the others lift American flags and wave them.) (PHONSIE L. waving flag, MOE and GLADYS C. BIRDIE dead in chair R.)

STAR SPANGLED BANNER, FF, AS CURTAIN FALLS

THE LOLLARD A SATIRICAL COMEDY

BY EDGAR ALLAN WOOLF Author of "Youth," "Little Mother," "Mon Desir," "The Locks at Panama," "Lady Gossip," Etc., Etc.

THE LOLLARD

CHARACTERS

SCENE: The apartment of Miss Carey, a hardworking modiste about 45 years of age, rather sharp in manner, very prudish and a hater of men.

When the curtain rises, the stage is dark. First, "feminine snores" are heard, then a sharp ringing of bell. Then MISS CAREY from her bed in next room (curtained off, but partly visible) calls out:

MISS CAREY: Who is it?

VOICE: (Off stage.) It's me. Open!

MISS CAREY: (Poking her night-capped head out of curtains.) Well, who are you?

VOICE: (Off stage.) You don't know me. But that's all right. Please let me in--hurry! Hurry!

MISS CAREY: (Rising and getting into a kimono.) Well--whoever you are--what do you mean by waking me at two in the morning? I'll report this to the janitor. (She turns up light and opens door. ANGELA MAXWELL rushes in--in fluffy peignoir--her hair in pretty disorder--her hands full of wearing apparel, etc., as if she just snatched same up in haste. An opera coat, a pair of slippers, etc.)