Volume II Part 13 (1/2)

ACQUAINTANCE--Oh, yes, going to sing a solo.

JOKER--So low you can't hear it? Ha, ha! (_Guests near by groan._)

VOICE (_overheard_)--Madame Cully? My dear, she always tells you that you haven't half enough material, and makes you get yards more. Besides, she never sends your pieces back, though I have--

FAT OLD LADY (_to neighbor_)--I never was so warm in my life! I can't imagine why people invite you, just to make you uncomfortable. Now, when I entertain, I have the windows open for hours before any one comes.

JOKER (_aside_)--That's why she always has a frost! Ha, ha!

(HOST _enters, showing traces of hasty toilette--face red, and a razor-cut on chin._)

HOST (_rubbing his hands, and endeavoring to appear at ease and facetious_)--Well, how d'ye do, everybody! Sorry to be late on such an auspicious--

JOKER (_interrupting_)--Suspicious! Ha, ha!

HOST--occasion. I hope you are all enjoying yourselves.

CHORUS OF GUESTS--Yes, indeed!

HOSTESS--'Sh, 'sh, 's.h.!.+ I have a great disappointment for you all. Here is a telegram from my _best_ singer, saying she is sick, and can't come.

Now, we will have the pleasure of listening to Miss Jackson. Miss Jackson is a pupil of Madame Parcheesi, of Paris. (_Singer whispers to her._) Oh, I beg your pardon! It's Madame _Mar_cheesi.

DEAF OLD GENTLEMAN (_seated by piano, talking to pretty girl_)--I'd rather listen to you than hear this caterwauling. (Old Gentleman _is dragged into corner and silenced._)

YOUNG WOMAN (_singing_)--”Why do I sing? I know not, I know not! I can not help but sing. Oh, why do I sing?”

(_Guests moan softly and demand of one another_, Why does she sing?)

WOMAN GUEST (_to another_)--Isn't that just the way?--their relatives are always dying, and it's sure to be wash-day or just when you expect company to dinner, and off they go to the funeral--

(Butler _appears with trayful of punch-gla.s.ses._)

MALE GUEST (_to another_)--Thank the Lord! here's relief in sight. Let's drown our troubles.

THE OTHER--It's evident you haven't sampled the Smythes' punch before. I tell you it's a crime to spoil a thirst with this stuff. Well, here's how.

WOMAN GUEST (_to neighbor_)--I never saw Mrs. Smythe looking quite so hideous and atrociously vulgar before, did you?

NEIGHBOR--Never! Why did we come?

VOICE (_overheard_)--The one in the white-lace gown and all those diamonds?

ANOTHER VOICE--Yes. Well, you know it was common talk that before he married her--

HOSTESS--'Sh, 'sh, 's.h.!.+ Signor Padrella has offered to play some of his own compositions, but I thought you would all rather hear something familiar by one of the real composers--Rubens or Chopin--Chopinhauer, I think--

(Pianist _plunges wildly into something._)

VOICE (_during a lull in the music_)--First, you brown an onion in the pan, then you chop the cabbage--

GUEST (_in the dressing-room, just arriving, to another_)--Yes, we are awfully late, too, but I always say you never can be too late at one of the Smythes' horrors.