The Flutter of the Goldleaf; and Other Plays
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Olive Tilford Dargan and Frederick Peterson >> The Flutter of the Goldleaf; and Other Plays
THE FLUTTER OF THE GOLDLEAF
AND OTHER PLAYS
BY
OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN
AND
FREDERICK PETERSON
NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1922
COPYRIGHT, 1922, BY
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
PRINTED AT
THE SCRIBNER PRESS
NEW YORK, U. S. A.
CONTENTS
PAGE
THE FLUTTER OF THE GOLDLEAF 1
BY OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN AND FREDERICK PETERSON
THE JOURNEY 49
BY OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN
EVERYCHILD 75
BY FREDERICK PETERSON AND OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN
TWO DOCTORS AT AKRAGAS 103
BY FREDERICK PETERSON
THE FLUTTER OF THE GOLDLEAF
A PLAY IN ONE ACT
BY
Olive Tilford Dargan
AND
Frederick Peterson
CHARACTERS
PHILO WARNER, _a student_
HIRAM WARNER, _his father, the village grocer_
MARY ANN WARNER, _his mother_
DR. BELLOWS, _the village physician_
DR. SEYMOUR, _a city specialist_
REBA SLOAN, _a neighbor's daughter_
THE FLUTTER OF THE GOLDLEAF
SCENE: _Laboratory in the attic of the Warner cottage. At right, toward
rear, entrance from down-stairs. A rude partition, left, with door
in centre. Window centre rear. Large kitchen table loaded with
apparatus. Shelves, similarly loaded, against wall near table, right.
Wires strung about. A rude couch, bench, and several wooden chairs._
_Time, about 8 p.m. Lamp burns on table._ MRS. WARNER _comes
up-stairs, puts her head inside the room nervously, then enters and
looks about._
_Mrs. W._
Such a mess! And the doctors will be here in half an hour! (_Tries to
get busy but seems bothered. Crosses to table and looks at a little
machine that stands upon it._) _That's_ what's driving my boy crazy! If
I only dared to smash it! The right sort of a mother would do just that!
(_Looks at machine with dire meditation._)
_Warner_ (_without, roaring up the stairs_)
Mary Ann!
_Mrs. W._ (_jumps_)
Yes, Hiram!
_Warner_ (_entering_)
Where's Philo?
_Mrs. W._
In the orchard. I watched my chance, and thought I'd redd up a little.
He won't let me touch anything when he's here.
_Warner_
Just about lives up here, don't he?
_Mrs. W._
Day and night now, since he's been too sick to go to the store. And
I can't have Dr. Bellows bring in that specialist from New York with
things lookin' as if a woman had never come up the stairs. (_Dusting
and rattling._)
_Warner_
Philo's not onto what the doctors are after, is he?
_Mrs. W._
He thinks they're coming to look at his machine mostly--and see what's
keepin' him awake nights. But maybe he knows. He's awful sharp.
_Warner_
Sharp? Wish he knew enough to sell eggs and bacon. He's ruinin' my
business. Weighs a pound of coffee as if he was asleep. I can see
customers watchin' him out o' the tail o' their eye. They're gettin'
_afraid_ of him! Mary Ann, the boy's going to be a shame to us. He's
crazy!
_Mrs. W._
Don't you call _my_ boy crazy. I won't hear it, Hiram.
_Warner_
No, you'll wait till the whole village tells you! They're all talkin'
now!
_Mrs. W._
It's none o' their business!
_Warner_
It'll be their business if he flies up and hurts somebody.
_Mrs. W._
Philo wouldn't hurt anything alive. He got mad at me once for killin'
a spider.
_Warner_ (_scornfully_)
Showed his sense there, didn't he?
_Mrs. W._
If Philo's queer it's not from my side of the house. You know what your
mother was like--wanderin' round nights starin' at the stars with that
old spy-glass Captain Barker gave her.
_Warner_
She was a good mother, all the same.
_Mrs. W._
Couldn't cook at all. Your father only kept alive by eating at the
neighbors occasionally--and as for sewing and mending, you children went
in rags till your Aunt Sary came to live with you.
_Warner_
Mother thought a heap of us, though. I remember how she cried because I
wouldn't go to school and went into the grocery business. And she cried
a lot more when I married you. I couldn't understand her--_then_....
_Mrs. W._
Humph! She'd been shut up fast enough if your father hadn't been the
softest-hearted man alive.
_Warner_
Maybe the boy does take after her, but he's worse'n she ever was.
_Mrs. W._
She didn't have any books--or college education--to turn her head.
_Warner_
Nothing to read but the _Weekly Mirror_. It was a good paper, though,
all about crops and stock, and what the country people were doing, and
a love story on the inside page. Father subscribed on her account. She
told him her mind had to have _something_ to work on. But she didn't
take to the paper, and he had to read it himself to get his money's
worth.
_Mrs. W._
A good thing she didn't have a library to get at like Philo. All those
books he brought home didn't do him any good. He began to get queer
about the time he was reading that set of Sir Humphry Davy's Complete
Works, with so much about electrics and the stars, and that sort of
stuff. If we could only get him to quit this studyin' and stay
out-o'-doors....
_Warner_
S'pose we clear out this hole--burn the books, and get rid of all these
confounded wires and jars and fixings. I don't believe he saves a penny
of the wages I give him for helpin' to ruin me. All he makes goes for
this truck. We'll clear it out.
_Mrs. W._
I've thought of that, but we oughtn't to go too far. They're his anyhow,
and I'm afraid----
_Warner_
Well, I'm not afraid! And I'll begin with this devil! (_Pauses over
machine. Starts suddenly._) What's that? He's coming!
_Mrs. W._ (_listening_)
It's only Alice going to her room.
_Warner_
Perhaps we'd better see what the specialist says first.
_Mrs. W._
I know Dr. Bellows wants us to send Philo away. But I'm against that,
first and last.
_Warner_
You wouldn't be if you'd listen to Bellows awhile. You know what he told
me when I met him this morning? "Why, Warner," he says, "I never go to
see the boy without taking a pair of handcuffs in my pocket. It's the
quiet ones that go the wildest when they do break out."
_Mrs. W._
Oh, Hiram, it's not going to be so bad as that. Don't let him set you
against your own flesh and blood. Just let me manage awhile. He needs to
get stirred up about something--get his mind off this. I wish I hadn't
stopped those letters he was getting from Reba Sloan when she went off
to school two years ago.
_Warner_
But you said you'd rather see him dead than married to Sloan's girl.
_Mrs. W._
I meant it, too! But seeing your child dead is not so bad as seeing him
crazy--and if Reba can save him----
_Warner_
How in thunder----
_Mrs. W._
She's a taking girl, Hiram--since she got back. If Philo gets his mind
fixed on _her_, she'll soon have him forgettin' this. Why,--you remember
for three months before we were married you couldn't think o' nothing
but me.
_Warner_
Good Lord! Is that so, Mary Ann?
_Mrs. W._
I had to hurry up the weddin' to save your business. You were letting
Jabe McKenny take all your trade right under your nose.
_Warner_
Sakes 'a' mighty! If I could come out of a spell like that, there's some
hope for our poor chap.
_Mrs. W._
That's what I'm telling you!
_Warner_
But Reba's father--you going to have old fiddler Sloan in the family?
_Mrs. W._
He's come into some money now, and any gentleman can take an interest
in music.
_Warner_
And the mother was that foreign woman.
_Mrs. W._
But she's dead. It's just as well Philo won't have a mother-in-law.
_Warner_
Reba'll have one, all right. If Philo stays queer it'll be hard on the
girl, won't it?
_Mrs. W._
He'll not stay queer. If he gets that girl in his head there won't be
room for anything else--for a while anyway. He'll be worse'n you ever
was. You let me manage it, Hiram.
(PHILO _is heard coming up the stairs. They listen in silence until
he enters. He is talking, not quite audibly, to himself, and
doesn't see them. Goes to table and stands by machine._)
_Philo_
Here--at last--I have caught the word ... the word of the stars.
_Mrs. W._
Philo!
_Philo_ (_looking up_)
Mother!... Father!... (_In alarm._) You haven't touched anything here?
_Mrs. W._
No, my son. I've just put the place to rights a bit. Dr. Seymour is
coming, you know.
_Philo_
Yes. (_Walks the floor, meditating._)
_Warner_
You must come out of this dream, Philo.
_Philo_
It is not a dream! I am the only being in the world who is awake!
_Mrs. W._
My son!
_Philo_
Man sleeps--like the rocks, trees, hills--while all around him, out of
the unseen, beating on blind eyes, deaf ears, numbed brain, sweep the
winds of eternity, the ether waves, the signals from the deeps of space!
_Warner_
Hey, diddle, diddle!
_Philo_
Sleep-walkers all--the people in the streets, the shops--the mad people
with their heaps of gold!
_Mrs. W._
Now don't work yourself up, Philo, with the doctor coming. You want to
tell him about your machine.
_Philo_
Yes. He is a great man. He has studied these things. I will talk to him.
He will not laugh.
_Warner_
Mary Ann, don't you think we'd better bring up some cider? It'll look
more hospitable like.
_Mrs. W._
That city doctor won't care anything about cider.
_Warner_
My cider's good enough for anybody! And Dr. Bellows'll be sure to ask
for it.
_Mrs. W._
Well, wait till he does. (_Looks uneasily about room._) Don't you think,
son, that if you're going to take to having visitors here I'd better
move some furniture up? You could have the haircloth sofa--the springs
are broke anyway--and Alice says she don't want the wax flowers in the
parlor any more. They're turnin' yellow, but you wouldn't notice it up
here.
_Philo_ (_clinching his hands_)
Do what you like, mother, only don't take anything _out_. If anything
happened to my work I believe I'd go crazy!
(_The parents look at each other._)
_Warner_
Thought your work was tendin' the store.
_Philo_
Brother Will is more help there than I am, father.
_Warner_
You're right about that. Will's got a head on.
_Mrs. W._
You'd better go down, Hiram, and meet the doctors.
_Warner_
Alice'll show them up.
_Mrs. W._
Where's that strange smell comin' from? Do you work in the other room,
too, Philo? (_Goes in, left._)
_Philo_
Father ... I'm sorry about the store ... I wish I could tell you ... but
what's the use? You won't believe!
(_Re-enter_ MRS. W.)
_Mrs. W._
Gracious! I couldn't breathe in there! Got to clear _something_ out
before Reba comes up here. She'd have no respect for my housekeeping.
_Philo_
Reba?
_Mrs. W._
Reba Sloan. She's been asking if she couldn't come. She's just wild to
see your machine.
_Philo_
Don't you ever let her up here, mother!
_Mrs. W._
But she asked me, Philo--and a neighbor's daughter, you know----
_Philo_
I thought she was away from home.
_Mrs. W._
Been back a month--walks all about right under your eyes. You ought to
be _civil_, Philo.
_Philo_
I want to see Dr. Seymour. I should like to have him know what I'm
doing. But if you're going to turn the whole village in here, I'll bar
the door, that's all.
_Mrs. W._
My son, if you'd only interest yourself a little----
_Philo_
I'm not interested in anything nearer than thirty-five million miles!
_Warner_
What did I tell you, Mary Ann?
_Mrs. W._
I hear the doctors! Now, Philo, if you can't talk sense, don't say
_anything_.
(_Enter_ SEYMOUR _and_ BELLOWS.)
_Bellows_
Good evening, Warner. How d' do, Mrs. Warner! My friend, Dr. Seymour.
_Warner and Mrs. W._
How do you do, sir!
_Bellows_
Philo, I've brought Dr. Seymour around to have a talk with you. He's
down from New York for a day or two. Been sleeping any better?
_Philo_
Too much. I need all my time. I'm very glad to see you, Dr. Seymour.
(_All take seats._)
_Mrs. W._
I hope you'll excuse the looks of the room, doctor.
_Seymour_
It looks very interesting indeed to me, Mrs. Warner. The workshop of a
student, and a busy one. (_To_ PHILO.) You've been working too hard, I
see.
_Philo_
I'm tired, perhaps, but I am well. When a man makes a momentous
discovery he is apt to be overwrought. He may not eat or sleep well for
a time. He may even appear to be strange or mad.
(MRS. W. _coughs suddenly._)
_Mrs. W._
I'm afraid that's not a comfortable chair, Dr. Seymour.
_Seymour_
Quite comfortable, Mrs. Warner.
_Mrs. W._ (_rapidly_)
Philo is my oldest boy, and I never could keep him away from books.
Will, my second son, is as steady in the store as his father himself,
and Johnny is just fine on the wagon. As for Alice, there's not a neater
all-round girl to be found anywhere. They're healthy, sensible children,
every one of 'em, and don't care what's inside any book in the
world--but Philo was just bent on going to college----
_Seymour_
A very natural bent for an ambitious boy.
_Bellows_
Tell us about the discovery, Philo, my lad.
_Philo_ (_rising and walking slowly up and down the room_)
I think I will. It will be another experiment. I know what the effect
will be on Dr. Bellows. He is an old friend of mine--but you, sir, are a
stranger. I should like to try your mind and see if you are awake or
asleep.
(BELLOWS _winks toward_ SEYMOUR, _who takes no notice, but gives_
PHILO _careful attention._)
_Seymour_
I hope I shall not disappoint you.
_Philo_
I believe we have some points of view in common, for your profession
needs to take note of many problems connected with both evolution and
electricity. I have been a reader of general science for many years.
The fact that on the earth we have had a slow evolution from a monad
to a man contains a promise of further development of man into--let us
say an angel.
_Bellows_
Not very soon, I guess.
_Philo_ (_sharply_)
Hardly in your day, doctor. You needn't worry about the fashion in
wing-feathers.
_Seymour_
Go on, Mr. Warner.
_Philo_
In others of the many millions of globes about us in space, a similar
evolution is going on, and in some the evolution is less advanced than
in ours, in others incomparably more advanced.
_Seymour_
We may admit that.
(BELLOWS _looks to_ WARNER _for sympathy, and shakes his head._)
_Philo_
We have reached a stage when we have begun to peer out into the stellar
depths and question them. We are beginning to master the light and the
lightning, to measure the vastness of space, to weigh the suns, to
determine the elements that comprise them, to talk and send messages
thousands of miles without wires. Each year uncovers new wonders,
infinitely minute, infinitely great.
_Seymour_
True,--all true.
_Philo_ (_becoming more repressed and tensely excited as he goes on_)
The dreams of the alchemists are being realized. That machine yonder
detects the waves from a millionth of a millionth of a milligramme of
radium.
_Seymour_
What!
_Philo_
I have invented a tuned electroscope that would be destroyed by such
waves, so sensitive as to react only to waves from an inconceivable
distance, beyond thirty-five million miles.
_Seymour_ (_trying to take it in_)
Thirty-five million miles!
_Philo_ (_with great tension_)
Three weeks ago I made this instrument, and ever since then, at regular
intervals, there have been rhythmic flutterings of the goldleaf, regular
repetitions, as if it were knocking at the door of earth from the
eternal silences. I have watched it--the same measured fluttering--two
beats--then three--then two--then four and a pause! It is a studied
measure! It has meaning! When I first noticed it--the faint flutter of
the goldleaf--and knew that any waves from a nearer point than
thirty-five million miles would utterly destroy so delicate an
instrument--my hair stood on end. I have watched it three
weeks--alone--and you ask me why I do not sleep!... Look!
(_The doctors spring up electrified, and stare at the instrument._)
_Philo_
There it is again! Two beats--then three--then two--then four--now it
is over!
(SEYMOUR _continues to stare at the instrument._ BELLOWS _subsides
into a chair, looking foolish._)
_Seymour_ (_to himself_)
Impossible!... (_To_ PHILO.) What was it you were saying? What
did you see?
_Philo_
I saw what you saw--signals from a distance farther than the distance
of the nearest planet to our earth.
_Seymour_ (_shaken_)
But I saw nothing. At least a slight movement in anything so sensitive
might be due to many causes....
_Philo_
Yes! It is always the old story. Truths must be hammered into humanity!
Branded in with flame, or driven in with sword and bullet!
_Bellows_ (_starting up alarmed_)
Hadn't we better be going, doctor?
_Philo_
Oh, no! Wait till you've talked me over. Decide whether I'm mad or not!
If I'm a menace to the community! If I must be locked up! My father and
mother are waiting to know. Don't go! Finish your work! (_Rushes into
room, left._)
_Bellows_ (_triumphantly to_ SEYMOUR)
Well?
(SEYMOUR _hesitates, looks at the father and mother, then at_
BELLOWS, _and takes out his match-case._)
_Bellows_ (_making a conquest of the obvious_)
Warner, a little of that fine cider of yours would just finish off our
chat.
_Warner_
Nothing better! (_Starting out, whispers to_ MRS. W.) Where's grandma's
silver pitcher?
_Mrs. W._
I'll get _that_.
(_They go down-stairs._)
_Bellows_ (_laughing_)
She never lets him go to the cellar by himself.
_Seymour_
Not a drinker, is he?
_Bellows_
Oh, no! The pattern of a deacon. But she keeps her hand on.
(SEYMOUR _lights a cigar thinkingly._)
_Bellows_
No use to go over this case. It's clear enough. We'll have our
cider--it's worth waiting for--then go to my office and fix up the
commitment papers.
_Seymour_ (_rubbing his hand slowly over his forehead_)
To talk with such a patient sometimes bewilders the brain. He seemed so
clear in his utterance--so rational----
_Bellows_
Funny, wasn't he? I almost believed it myself for a minute.
_Seymour_
It might be true.
_Bellows_
Hey?
_Seymour_
Perhaps we are all somnambulists moving about in this dream-world we
call practical life. Behind this tough matter that takes so many shapes
and colors, what strange secrets are hidden, just beginning to reach our
dull senses--X-rays, radium emanations, wireless waves.
_Bellows_
Oh, they're natural enough now. Common sense has adopted them.
_Seymour_
Yes, we are easily satisfied. Give a mystery a name and that's enough
for the most of us. But here and there are minds that must explore
further; and if they discover something beyond the comprehension of us
who stay behind, we call them mad.
_Bellows_
Well, none of your mind-puzzles for me. Give me something clear cut,
like typhoid, or measles, an amputation, or new babies, something I can
fix my eyes on. You can take care of the madmen--except when they're
in my own village. I'm not going to have a boy like Philo gibbering
around ready to break out wild any time.
_Seymour_
It's true he may be led into frenzy, or even self-destruction, but it
will be from overwork and loneliness. I must have a talk with the
parents----
_Bellows_
What do you expect _them_ to do? They're asking us for help. And _I'm_
willing to give it to them.
(_Re-enter_ WARNER _and_ MRS. W. _He carries pitcher, she carries
tray with glasses._)
_Seymour_ (_to_ BELLOWS)
We'll see. As I say, the boy has been losing sleep, and giving his mind
no rest.
_Mrs. W._ (_holding tray while_ WARNER _pours cider_)
Just what I say, doctor. He's studied himself sick.
_Seymour_
You must get him out of here, Mrs. Warner. (_Sipping cider._) Excellent,
indeed!
_Mrs. W._
I'm doing my best.
_Warner_ (_to_ BELLOWS, _who has drained his glass_)
You're at home, doctor. Just help yourself.
(_He does._)
_Seymour_
What is his age?
_Mrs. W._
Twenty. He went early to college.
_Seymour_ (_musingly_)
The usual age. Twenty. (_Sighs._) The age of visions and enchantments.
"The thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts."
_Bellows_
What are you saying, doctor?
_Seymour_
Just thinking. It's a healthy family, isn't it?
_Mrs. W._
I should say! Why, Will and Johnny and Alice----
_Bellows_
Best sort. The thoroughbreds of the town. Temperate, thriving, regular
at church. Warner here was once county supervisor. (_Clapping him on
shoulder._) Never had a better one.
_Seymour_ (_to_ WARNER)
And your parents?
_Warner_
Father was a sound, practical man. Stood flat-footed, I may say.
_Seymour_
And your mother?
_Mrs. W._
Law me, Hiram Warner thinks there was never anybody in the world like
his mother. And there never _was_!
_Seymour_
That's good to build on. It is clear that your boy is ill, and the
burden of his knowledge, whether truth or delusion, is far too great for
him to bear. If you could interest him for even a brief time in ordinary
life--(_smiling_) miracles that are too common to be disturbing--throw
him with young people----
_Bellows_
You don't mean you won't sign the commitment papers!
_Seymour_
Just that. I shall not sign them.
_Mrs. W._ (_gratefully_)
Oh, doctor!
_Bellows_
After what you saw here with your own eyes? He's completely gone off!
_Seymour_
The boy may be right. Under this tiny consciousness of ours lie vast
fields of subconscious intelligence as yet unexplored. Beyond our earth
are still greater mysteries, unimaginable, unthinkable.
_Bellows_ (_in disgust_)
And I counted on your common sense!
_Seymour_
Common sense is itself too frail and uncertain a thing to be a criterion
of sanity. The common sense of yesterday is to-day's folly, and our
present common sense will be the madness of to-morrow.
_Bellows_
Well, I'll be--I'll wait for you down-stairs, doctor. (_Exit._)
_Seymour_
The lad ought not to be in there alone. (_Goes to door._) Philo, my boy!
(PHILO _comes out. He is extremely pale, his black hair pushed
from his forehead, and his eyes burning, but his manner is calm._)
_Philo_
Well, am I a free man?
_Seymour_
You are free, Philo.
_Philo_ (_perfunctorily_)
Thank you, doctor.
_Seymour_
But you must have rest from this work. These subjects are too
overwhelming for a sane brain to carry without harm. This attic is
gloomy and the atmosphere unhealthy. You must have a complete change.
_Philo_
I see. That is your answer to my discovery. (_Turns suddenly to_
WARNER.) And what do you think of it, father?
_Warner_
I don't seem to get hold of it, somehow, Philo. (_Crosses to machine and
stares at it._) What's the good, anyhow? They're too far away.
'Twouldn't help business.
(PHILO _gives a queer laugh._ WARNER _opens door._)
_Warner_
I'll see you down-stairs, doctor. (_Exit._)
_Philo_ (_turning to_ MRS. W.)
And you, mother?
_Mrs. W._ (_bustling up and gathering tray and glasses_)
I've got to set my bread. (_Crosses to machine and stares at it, holding
tray._) What'll we come to if folks in the stars begin pesterin'? We've
got enough to 'tend to right here. (_Goes out muttering._) Got to set my
bread.
(SEYMOUR _and_ PHILO _look at each other and smile._)
_Seymour_
Won't you come down, Philo?
_Philo_
No. It's livelier for me up here. More to think about. But don't worry
about me, doctor. I know this is the end. If I can't convince you, then
all the world must think it hallucination.
_Seymour_
I'm not unconvinced. I simply don't know. And I'm deeply interested. But
you can't stand it, Philo. Get out of this. Be young. This is for older
heads. You'll have plenty of time. Get out--do anything. Fall in
love--fall in love--that will give you mysteries enough for a while.
Yes, I mean it--and don't forget, my dear boy, that you've interested
me.
(_Shakes hands with_ PHILO _and goes down._ PHILO _listens until
he has reached the foot of the stairs._)
_Philo_
The heavens open--the suns speak--and he is--interested! (_Closes
door._) Alone!... Fall in love! Light the candle and put out the
stars!... (_Returns to his instrument._) ... It is still.
(_Steps are heard on the stairs, then a knock at the door.
He crosses softly to door and shoots the bolt._)
_Voice_ (_without_)
It's Reba, Philo! Won't you let me in?
(_He is silent, and steps retreat._)
_Philo_ (_crossing to centre_)
Reba! That folly's done with, thank God!... (_Begins walking._)
Seymour.... I didn't know how much I was hoping from him.... It is hard,
hard to go on alone. But I _must_! I can't turn back from that call.
When a child cries we turn, and listen, and help. And this--_this_ is
the voice of a world!
(_A knock is heard at door._)
_Voice of_ WARNER
Philo!
_Philo_
Buzz, buzz, old bee!
_Voice_
Come down, son!
_Philo_
Please leave me alone, father. I can't bear anything more to-night.