She rings off and stands silently by the table. The storm reaches its height. Simultaneously with a terrific burst of thunder that sets the windows rattling the front door blows open suddenly, letting in a heavy gust of rain.
Charlotte is on the verge of hysterics.
Then there is a whistle outside—the bright, mellow whistle of the postman. She springs up, clasping her hands together. Jerry comes in, covered with a rain cape dripping water. The hood of the cape partially conceals his face.
Jerry [cheerfully]. Well, it certainly is a rotten day.
Charlotte [starting at the voice]. It’s awful.
Jerry. But I heard there was a lady here that was{142} expecting a letter, and I had one that I thought’d do, so no rain or anything could keep me from delivering it.
Charlotte [greedily]. A letter for me? Let me have it.
He hands it to her and she tears it open.
It’s from Jerry!
She reads it quickly.
Jerry. Is it what you wanted?
Charlotte [aloud, but to herself]. It doesn’t say where he is. It just says that he’s well and comfortable. And that he’s doing what he wants to do and what he’s got to do. And he says that doing his work makes him happy. [With suspicion.] I wonder if he’s in some dive…. If I wrote him a letter do you think you could find him with it, Mr. Postman?
Jerry. Yes, I can find him.
Charlotte. I want to tell him that if he’ll come home I won’t nag him any more, that I won’t try to change him, and that I won’t fuss at him for being poor.
Jerry. I’ll tell him that.
Charlotte [again talking to herself]. I was trying to nag him into something, I guess. Before we were married I always thought there must be some sort of mysterious brave things he did when he wasn’t with me. I thought that maybe sometimes he’d sneak away to{143} hunt bears. But when he’d sneak away it was just to roll dice for cigars down at the corner. It wasn’t forests—it was just—toothpicks.
Jerry. Suppose that he was nothing but a postman now—like me.
Charlotte. I’ll be proud of him if he’s a postman, because I know he always wanted to be one. He’d be the best postman in the world and there’s something kind of exciting about being the best. It wasn’t so much that I wanted him to be rich, I guess, but I wanted him to do something he wouldn’t always be beat at. I was sort of glad he got drunk that night. It was about the first exciting thing he ever did.
Jerry. You never would of told him that.
Charlotte [stiffening]. I should say I wouldn’t of.
Jerry rises.
Jerry. I’ll try to get him here at six o’clock.
Charlotte. I’ll be waiting. [Quickly.] Tell him to stop by a store and get some rubbers.
Jerry. I’ll tell him. Good-by.
Charlotte. Good-by.
Jerry goes out into the rain, Charlotte sits down and bows her head upon the table.
Again there are steps on the porch. This time it is Dada, who comes in, closing a dripping umbrella.
{144}
Dada [as one who has passed through a great crisis]. I borrowed an umbrella from a man at the library.
Charlotte [in a muffled voice]. Jerry’s coming back.
Dada. Is he? A man at the library was kind enough to lend me his umbrella. [He goes over to the bookcase and begins an unsuccessful search for the Scriptures. Plaintively]. Some one has hidden my Bible.
Charlotte. In the second shelf.
He finds it. As he pulls it from its place, several other books come with it and tumble to the floor. After a glance at Charlotte, he kicks them under the bookcase. Then, with his Bible under his arm, he starts for the stairs, but is attracted by something bright on the first stair, and attempts, unsuccessfully, to pick it up.
Dada. Hello, here’s a nail that looks like a ten-cent piece.
He goes up-stairs. When he is half-way up, there is a sound as if he had slipped back a notch, then silence.
Charlotte [raising her head]. Are you all right, Dada?
No answer. Dada is heard to resume his climb.
Oh, if I could only sleep till six o’clock!{145}
The storm has blown away, and the sun is out and streaming in the window, washing the ragged carpet with light. From the street there comes once again, faint now and far away, the mellow note of the postman’s whistle.
Charlotte [lifting her arms rapturously]. The best postman in the world!
CURTAIN
Appendix I
The following episodes represent scenes cut from Act II by Fitzgerald during his revisions of the play before its publication in April 1923. His original typescript (Princeton University Library) is here reprinted without any alterations or corrections, except that deleted words or sections are shown in brackets.
The first fragment, “The Musicians,” is all that remains of the dream sequence of Jerry Frost as millionaire.
The second fragment, “The Coffin Corner,” is a remnant of Act II, Scene 1, which ended with “The Prophecy,” the scene from which Fitzgerald drew his original title for the play: Gabriel’s Trombone.
The remaining two scenes (2 and 3) of the act are represented by “The End of the World” and “The Battle of Buzzard Island.” The latter scene is of particular interest since Edmund Wilson felt that Fitzgerald should never have allowed it to be cut. Fitzgerald, too, must have enjoyed this episode, for he illustrated his typescript with a cartoon (see facing page).
The Musicians
[Horace Jest tell you about it tonight, eh?
Jerry Well, you see, she hasn’t exactly told me. But the other day I sort of saw something —— you know how young people do — well, I saw her kissing this young fella, Joseph Salmon, so I knew they were engaged. And tonight she told me she wanted to speak to me before I went to bed — so that must be what it’s about.
Horace Say, that’s swell, Mr. Frost.]
Jerry Like to hear some music?
Horace Why, yes, sir.
Jerry I got some private musicians, you know. (He makes a megaphone of his hands) Hey! Music! (Immediately three grotesque and preferably dwarfed musicians come running on the stage, instruments in hand)
Jerry (sternly) I want to hear some music. What do you like — sort of sad things? or — or sort of la-de-da things? (The three musicians immediately begin to play a gay air)
Jerry (To Horace) See? If I tell ’em to play they got to play. If I tell ’em to stop, they stop. Watch. (to the musicians): Stop! (They do not hear him and continue playing). Stop! (And finally louder) Hey, you, Stop! Stop! (They stop) Say, when you’re playing and I say to stop, you stop, see? (The musicians take this browbeating in silence.) Now let’s have something sort of sad. (They play something sad. Jerry turns to Horace.) Isn’t that good? That’s supposed to be sad, you know, sort of sa-a-ad. (He makes a melancholy gesture to express sadness. The musicians finish) All right, you, that’s enough. [(He throws them some gold coins)] You wait around the lawn somewhere. I may need you later. You better spend your time practising up some new pieces. (The musicians go out. Jerry with a great deal of pride turns to Horace) [Did you see what I threw them?
Horace It looked like twenty dollar gold pieces to me.
Jerry It was. (Confidentially) You know, that was the smallest change I had in my pocket? The smallest I had. Most people have a lot of small change—but I never have anything smaller than twenty dollar gold pieces—ever. That’s funny, isn’t it? Does it surprise you?]
Horace I’d like to be rich.
Jerry Well, it’s very nice. Of course, there’s a lot of responsibility. I mean it’s a strain on me to have to carry around all I that heavy money. [And of course I have a hard time taking care of my property. For instance, the railroad wanted to run a line [spur] through here. I told ’em that if they tried that I’d buy up the railroad.
[Horace How did you make your money, sir?]
The Coffin Corner
[Fish (blankly) Pick-pick-pick?
Charlotte Yes. Pick-pick-pick!
Fish (in an aggrieved voice) How about me? Would you think I was going to be married in a week from today? Would you? I mean by the way Doris acts? I mean pick-pick-pick, like you said?] (THE TICKER, which has been silent for some time, begins to rattle off quotations. FISH goes over and reads the tape)
Fish (gloomily) Fish Coffins have gone to two hundred and ten and a half. There’s going to be a coffin panic, sure. But I’ve made a million dollars this morning.
Charlotte (impressed) People never thought of buying coffins when I was a girl — unless they were dead, of course.
Fish We showed the American people the psychology of coffin buying.
Charlotte (delicately) There was some — some little feeling about it at first, wasn’t there?
Fish (warming to his subject) Just at first. But we started out to put Fish coffins in every home, and we did it. We got people looking for the Fish labels on their coffins. We showed them a coffin needn’t be an eyesore. We ran ads showing good-looking girls stepping into cheap but attractive coffins, and we got testimonials from spirits who had used Fish coffins.
Charlotte Yes, I was saying I hadn’t thought about coffins for years till—
Fish Do you remember our ad that showed the picture of the man that had ordered his coffin and the one who hadn’t?
Charlotte AND FISH TOGETHER One was going like this — (THEY make a happy face) — yeah, and the other one was going like this — (THEY make a melancholy, harassed face) — Yeah.
Fish They
