A Book of One-act Plays |
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Abner ain't ALICE GERSTENBERG Babylon Bala bank Billie BLANCHARD BOOK OF ONE-ACT BURGLAR cane chair CHIEF ROBBER chuckles CLOWNS COURTNEY-PAGE curtains DAUGHTER DEACON ROBERTS dear desk DORCHESTER drama drill Earl Carroll Theatre EDDIE eggs eyes face FORMER POOR FORMER RICH CITIZEN funny give goes Hallie hands head heard hell Herod HUGH Hughie lad Hurry Indianapolis JENKINS THE MIDWIFE JONES THE WASH Judge JULIUS laugh light LITTLE GIRL looks LYDIA MAMA PIERROT MAMIE married Max Ehrmann MORRIS THE SHEEP mother NEGRO BOY NELI never Newsboy NIGHT WATCHMAN nothin one-act play PAYNE-DEXTER Pease Porridge Hot Phoebe Louise POLICEMAN Portmanteau SECOND ROBBER short story smiles speaks street door Stuart Walker tell Theatre thee TOM MORRIS tree turns walk What's whisper Williams woman Yiss
Popular passages
Page 30 - Pease) Porridge Hot Pease porridge hot, pease porridge cold, Pease porridge in the pot nine days old ; Some like it hot, some like it cold, Some like it in the pot nine days old.
Page 158 - THE DEACON'S HAT* SCENE: A little shop called Y Gegin (The Kitchen), in Bala, North Wales. TIME : Monday morning at half-past eleven. To the right is the counter of Y Gegin, set out with a bountiful supply of groceries; behind the counter are grocery-stocked shelves. Upon the counter is a good-sized enamel-ware bowl filled with herring pickled in brine and leek, also a basket of fresh eggs, a jar of pickles, some packages of codfish, a half dozen loaves of bread, a big round cheese, several pounds...
Page 177 - I'm sure to find it. (She mounts upon chair. At this moment the shop doorbell rings violently, and there enters Mrs. Jones the Wash, very fat and very jolly. She is dressed in short skirt very full, clogs on her feet, a bodice made of striped Welsh flannel, a shabby kerchief, a cap on her head, and over this a shawl. Neli turns her head a little) Aye, Mrs. Jones the Wash, in a minute, it you please.
Page 172 - This he follows with two more eggs for same coat-tail and three for other—in all half a dozen. HUGH. [Dreamily pointing to tin.] Is it Yankee corn ? DEACON ROBERTS. [To Hugh's back, and slipping in second egg.] Nay, nay, not that, Hughie lad, that tin above! HUGH. [Absent-mindedly touching tin.] Is it ox tongue ? DEACON ROBERTS. [Slipping in third egg and not even looking up.] Ox tongue, lad ? Nay, nothin
Page 175 - DEACON ROBERTS (With sudden interest looking at the floor): Well, indeed! NELI (Suspiciously) : What is it ? (He reaches down with difficulty to a small thick puddle on the floor just beneath his left coat tail. He aims a red forefinger at it, lifts himself, and sucks fingertip.) DEACON ROBERTS (Smiling): Ahem, Mrs. Williams, mum, 'tis excellent herrin
Page 163 - I'm no carin' about cats with heaven starin' me in the face. [NELI turns about swiftly with the quick, sudden motions characteristic of her, and HUGH shrinks into himself. She shakes her finger at him and goes over to kiss him. NELI. Hughie, lad, ye're not to touch the book while I am gone to market. HUGH. Nay, nay, certainly not ! NELI. And ye're to be on the lookout for Mrs. Jones the Wash, for Mrs. Jenkins the Midwife — Jane Elin has a new baby, an' it'll be needin' somethin'. [Pointing to counter.]...
Page 172 - Uto — U-to-pi-an Tinned Sausage. Is it that? DEACON ROBERTS (slipping in sixth egg with an air of finality and triumph, and lifting his hat from the counter) Nay, nay, not that, Hughie lad. Why do ye not begin by askin' me what I want? Ye've no gift for sellin
Page 9 - There's no use quarrelling, because it's mother's plan to make us read a fine book whenever we make mistakes in grammar. And you know mother's plans ! (She opens the book) Oh, dear, no pictures! . . . Let's hurry up. BOY I won't do it. GIRL Come on, Billie, and get it over with. BOY Give me the keys or I'll break — I'll bust it. GIRL I won't give you the keys and you won't break it — William Cleves, if you don't live up to our compact, I'll not have anything more to do with you. BOY I don't care....
Page 199 - See (throwing back her fur and exposing her neck in a low cut gown) I have a lovely neck. (Imp makes an exaggerated attempt to see.) JUDGE (Glances coldly at her and then scans ledger again): Well, how about hay fever? VAIN WOMAN (Reproachfully): Oh, Judge, how can you suggest such a thing ! Watery eyes and a red nose, the worst enemy of beauty there is. I simply couldn't think of it. I want something that won't show. . JUDGE (Disgustedly turns to filing cabinet and looks through a series of cards,...
Page 185 - t is not. Five? Nor five, indeed. Six? Nay. Seven? Is seven the hour, the awful hour? Nay, not yet. Eight? Is eight the hour — an hour bright as this bright hour? Nay, eight is not. (The Deacon shouts in a mighty voice and points with a red finger at the clock) 'T is comin