Project Gutenberg's The Dearest Things in Boots, by Edna I. MacKenzie
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Title: The Dearest Things in Boots
Author: Edna I. MacKenzie
Release Date: November 1, 2016 [EBook #53425]
Language: English
Character set encoding: UTF-8
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The Dearest Thing in Boots
MAC KENZIE
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Now, Aren’t You Glad You Came?
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We’ll Now Have to Say Goodbye.
_Paine Publishing Co., Dayton, Ohio_
The Dearest Thing
in Boots
BY
EDNA I. MAC KENZIE
AUTHOR OF
“_Susan Gets Ready for Church_”
“_As Our Washwoman Sees It_”
“_That Awful Letter_”
“_The Unexpected Guest_”
“_Gladys Reviews the Dance_”
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“_I’m Engaged_”
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COPYRIGHT, 1922, =BY L. M. PAINE=
PAINE PUBLISHING COMPANY
DAYTON, OHIO
The Dearest Thing in Boots
——————
CAST OF CHARACTERS
MR. WILSON, proprietor of a ladies’ shoe store.
JACK WILSON, his son.
BETTY MOFFAT, the dearest thing in boots.
MISS FIRMROCK, a suffragette.
MRS. ATKINS, an anti-suffragette.
MRS. O’BRIEN, a practical socialist.
TIME OF PLAYING, about forty-five minutes.
——————
_COSTUMES_
MR. WILSON and JACK wear business suits.
BETTY MOFFAT wears a dainty summer dress and hat, has
high-heeled pumps and carries a gay parasol.
MISS FIRMROCK wears an extremely mannish costume. Her
boots are very large and low heeled.
MRS. ATKINS’ costume is cheap and slouchy, but extreme in
style. Her shoes are run-down at the heel.
MRS. O’BRIEN wears a gaily trimmed hat and a flowered
print dress.
The Dearest Thing in Boots
SCENE
The front room of MR. WILSON’S store used for fitting
shoes. A long table piled with boxes is down stage L, a
small table with cash box, books, paper and cord down
stage R, a couple of chairs and foot rests at C, doors
at R and L. MR. WILSON is discovered leaning against
table at R while JACK is straddling a chair.
MR. WILSON: It’s been a whole week, Jack, since you first
came into the store, so if you’ve been keeping your
ears and eyes open, you will have caught on to some of
my methods.
JACK: Take it from me, dad, I have. They are in a class
by themselves. Summed up briefly, as the minister says,
they are [_checks each point on fingers_]: Firstly,
soak a customer for all she’s worth, or you think she’s
worth. Secondly, if a shoe is too expensive, take off
a _cent or two_. Thirdly, if it is too cheap, which
doesn’t happen very often, take it to the rear where
you change the _price_ but not the _shoe_, bring it
back and tuck on a _dollar or two_. Fourthly, always
side in with everything a customer says, even if she
insists that the moon is made of green cheese. Fifthly,
always, always,—oh, what does my thumb say, dad? I’ve
run out.
MR. WILSON: Never fail to make a sale, that’s what it
says.
JACK: That’s it. I knew it was something like that. Do
you want me to start on the other hand, now?
MR. WILSON: No, that will do to begin with. I’m glad
you’ve been keeping your ears and eyes open so well.
Now, I hope you use your tongue to as good advantage.
Since the only way to learn the shoe business is to
stand firmly on your own feet, I’m going to let you
get your first experience this afternoon in waiting on
customers, by yourself. I will not interfere unless I
see that you are going to lose a sale.
JACK [_kicking over footrest_]: Lose a sale? Not on your
life! Just see me put it all over the dears until
they’ll be tumbling over each other to buy. Leave it
to your Uncle Dudley. [_Fixes footrest and resumes
former position._]
MR. WILSON: Don’t be so sure, young man. There’s many
a spill between the dollar and till and women are
pernickety things to handle at any time. [_Bell
tinkles._] Here comes your first customer. Good luck.
[_Exit door L._]
JACK [_cranes neck towards door R._]: If it isn’t
Betty Moffat, the dearest thing in boots. [_Jumps up
hastily, overturning chair._] I’m going to sell her the
peachiest shoes in the whole establishment, the little
queen!
_Enter BETTY door R._
BETTY: Why Jack, are _you_ here? I didn’t even know you
had started to work.
JACK [_replaces chair_]: Well, I like that! I’d like you
to know that I have worked more or less all my young
life.
BETTY: Principally less. I’d imagine.
JACK [_hits his head_]: Did you say this was a slammy
day? Well, I have started to work in earnest this
afternoon for dad has given me the job of waiting on
all the customers and you’re the first.
BETTY: Am I really? I’m so glad.
JACK: The pleasure is all mine and—the shelling out all
yours. [_Draws himself up pompously._] And what can I
do for you, madam?
BETTY [_giggles_]: Oh Jack, you’re too funny for words.
I want to buy a pair of dancing slippers. Have you any
nice ones?
JACK: It’s a mighty good thing you asked for the nice
ones because we’re out of the other kind. Then you’re
going to the dance tonight? Save me a dozen or two,
won’t you?
BETTY [_leans parasol against table R. It falls down and
both collide in picking it up_]: Oh, look at my hat!
It’s all crooked. [_Fixes it._] Is it on straight now?
JACK: No, it’s tilted a little to the left side.
BETTY: Then it _is_ on straight. [_Takes mirror from
vanity bag and tilts hat farther._] There, it’s all
right now.
JACK [_aside_]: I never knew that crooked meant straight
before, but one is always learning. [_Aloud._] You
didn’t say whether you’d save me those dances.
BETTY [_coquettishly_]: I may save you one or two, I’ll
think about it.
JACK: Put your whole mind to it, then. Now just take this
chair. I’m the doctor. And what size do you take?
BETTY: Two’s and a half.
JACK: By jove, but you have mighty dainty little feet!
BETTY [_pleased_]: Do you think so?
JACK: I don’t think, I know. It will be no feat to fit
them. [_Takes a box from table and brings it over._]
Here is just the very thing you want. [_Takes out
slippers._] Aren’t they classy? Let me try one on.
BETTY [_kicks off pump_]: They are rather nice, aren’t
they? [_Puts foot on footrest. Jack tries to put
slipper on, but fails._]
JACK: These are too small, Betty. You’ll need a half size
larger. [_He starts to go towards table L._]
BETTY [_indignantly_]: They’re not a bit too small. I
never take a larger size than that. [_Jerks slipper
on._] There, you see _I_ can get it on. I think you’re
real mean, trying to make out that I have big feet.
JACK: Upon my soul. [_Hits sole of boot._] Betty, I’m not
doing anything of the kind. You have the dearest little
feet I have ever seen, but you can see for yourself
that that slipper is too tight. I’d hate to have you
get a horrid corn for somebody to trample on and—
BETTY [_jumps up angrily_]: The very idea! There’s only
one boy I’ve danced with who’s ever trampled on my feet
and you’re not going to get the chance tonight, so
there! [_Stamps foot with slipper on, grimaces and hops
on one foot._] Ouch!
JACK: What’s the matter?
BETTY: I—I—oh, I turned on my ankle. It’s weak you know.
JACK: It wasn’t the slipper’s fault, was it?
BETTY [_indignantly_]: Of course it wasn’t; the very
idea, as though it could hurt anything. [_Goes behind
his back, takes off slipper and rubs her toes._]
JACK: But that slam you gave me, you didn’t mean what you
said, did you?
BETTY: What about?
JACK: Why, my dancing, and—
BETTY: I do, I mean every word of it.
JACK: Well. I’m sorry, Betty, if I have offended you.
Take these if you want to. All I can say is that I’d
hate to have to stand in your shoes.
BETTY: I tell you they’re _not_ too small, _they’re not,
they’re not, they’re not_! But I’ll not take them nor
any other either. [_Sits down, takes off slipper and
puts on her own._] You can keep your old slippers.
_Enter MR. WILSON from door L._
MR. WILSON: You’ll have to make allowance for this new
clerk of mine, Miss Moffat. You see you’re his first
customer so he’s pretty green at the business. Let me
try this slipper on. [_Picks it up._] Jack, did you use
a shoe horn?
JACK [_sulkily_]: No, I didn’t. Should you?
MR. WILSON: Of course. No wonder you had trouble putting
it on. [_Puts it on her foot._] There, it fits
perfectly, Miss Moffat. You have such pretty feet, it’s
a pleasure to fit them.
BETTY: I’m glad _you_ think so, Mr. Wilson. I’ll take
them. How much are they?
MR. WILSON: They’re twelve dollars, Miss Moffat, but
seeing that you’ve had so much annoyance with our new
clerk, I’m going to let you have them for eleven,
ninety-five. [_Wraps them up._]
BETTY [_gathering parasol, purse, etc._]: Thank you, Mr.
Wilson. Charge them to dad. [_Takes parcel and goes
towards door R._] Good-bye.
JACK [_rushes to open door_]: Good-bye, Betty. I’ll see
you at the dance.
BETTY [_haughtily_]: _You’ll_ not fail to see my big
feet, at any rate, Mr. Wilson. [_Exit._]
JACK [_sinks into chair_]: The dearest thing in boots!
And now I’ve made her so mad that she’ll never speak
to me again. All over a measely half-size in slippers.
Who’d think a girl could be so silly!
MR. WILSON: Eight women out of ten want boots too small
for them and won’t take anything else. That’s why women
can endure pain better than men; they get used to it,
breaking in tight shoes.
JACK: The Chinese have nothing on them, believe me!
[_Shakes finger at father._] And you old fraud you,
you side in with them and then later on sell them corn
plasters and bunion-easers and arch-supports and all
the rest of the instruments of torture.
MR. WILSON: That’s the great idea, my son. You’re
learning fast. But you must confess that my method is
better than sending a customer away angry, and it has
put you through college, besides, remember that.
JACK: I do, dad. Rule number six—always tell a woman that
you’re sure she takes a half-size smaller boot than you
know she does.
MR. WILSON: That’s it. As a rule it tickles them all to
pieces. And you get their money and their good-will to
boot. [_Bell tinkles._] Here’s another customer. Better
luck this time. [_Exit MR. WILSON. JACK busies himself
at table._]
_Enter MISS FIRMROCK._
JACK: How do you do, Miss Firmrock, and what can I do for
you today?
MISS FIRMROCK: Young man, before I buy anything from
you, I must know how you stand on the woman suffrage
question. Do you believe that women should take an
active part in politics now that they are given the
vote?
JACK [_taken back_]: Do I believe what?
MISS FIRMROCK: That women should mix up in politics.
[_Emphasize words by pounding floor with umbrella._]
JACK [_aside_]: Now what in the dickens does she want
me to say? From her wording, I’d say she was agin the
petticoat government. [_Aloud grandiloquently._] My
dear Madam, the woman’s place is in the home, cooking
the meals, keeping the house clean,—er—er—making the
children’s dresses er—er—winding up the cat and putting
the clock out. Why should women need to enter into
politics? Is not her influence greater at home? Who has
not heard that beautiful and noble sentiment—“The hand
that _rules_ the cradle _rocks_ the world.” [_Aside._]
Gee, I didn’t know I was such a speaker. [_Starts to
strut._] I hope dad got that.
MISS FIRMROCK: I knew as soon as I looked at you that you
were one of these lordly males, who believe in keeping
women a slave, a household drudge, with no more rights
than the criminal, the child and the imbecile. If women
do not help to do the governing, who is going to make
decent laws? Who is going to see that the bachelor
pays twice as much in taxes as the man who has a
family to support? Who is going to make this beautiful
country of ours a decent place to live in? The men?
[_Scornfully._] They’ve had their try at it ever
since Columbus discovered America. And what have they
accomplished? [_Snaps her fingers._] Not that! I want
_nothing_ from you sir. I shall buy only in a store
where woman is not trodden upon. [_Starts to go._]
JACK [_aside_]: Imagine me treading on the likes of her?
But good-night! I’ve backed the wrong horse. How in
the world am I going to fix it? [_Taps his head._]
I’ve got it! A little bit of soft soap goes a long
way. [_Aloud._] Miss Firmrock, one moment, please.
[_She turns at door._] I had never given the matter any
thought or I certainly wouldn’t have said what I did.
But you have enlightened me. [_Bowing._] You have made
me see that women must enter the political arena to
fight the beasts of bachelor’s vice and—and—no—backed
dresses! You have shown me that men as uplifters are
failures, that women alone can reform the world. Miss
Firmrock, how can I thank you?
MISS FIRMROCK [_comes back to C, shakes his hand_]: It
gives me great pleasure to know a man who is so open
to convictions as you are, Mr. Wilson; and I will feel
that I have accomplished something in life since I have
converted you to our cause. But really, Mr. Wilson, I
never knew that you were such an orator. I am going
to put you down for a speech at our Women’s Club next
Wednesday evening. How will this subject suit you, “The
Failures Men Have Made”? [_Takes out note-book and
writes._]
JACK [_aside, pretending to faint against table_]:
Suffering cats, what next! [_Aloud._] My dear Miss
Firmrock, [_aside_] Gee, it sounds like a proposal.
[_Aloud._] I’ve never made a speech in public in all my
life and I—
MISS FIRMROCK [_interrupts_]: Then it’s time you were
beginning.
JACK [_desperately_]: Oh, really, I can’t possibly go
that night; I have another engagement; I—I—you see I
have to go to prayer meeting.
MISS FIRMROCK: To prayer meeting! I’ve never seen you
there in my life, so you can put off your starting for
another week.
JACK [_aside_]: If I don’t have nervous prostration by
then, there’s nothing for it but to get myself smashed
up in an auto accident. [_Aloud._] Well, I’ll do my
best, Miss Firmrock. Were you wanting to buy anything?
MISS FIRMROCK: Yes, a pair of boots.
JACK [_pulls chair out_]: Now just sit here, Miss
Firmrock and I’ll fit you. What size do you take?
MISS FIRMROCK: Six and a half.
JACK [_aside as he gets a box from table_]: Now, let me
see; the rule I’ve learned by bitter experiences is,
“Tell the dears they have such little feet you’re sure
they should take a smaller size.″ Very well, I’ll just
do that little thing. [_Aloud._] Now let me try these
sixes on you, Miss Firmrock. I’m sure you can’t take
a larger size than that, you have such little feet.
[_Gets down on knees to fit shoe. MISS F. boxes his
ears and he tumbles over._]
MISS FIRMROCK: How _dare_ you make fun of my feet?
[_Whacks him with umbrella. JACK jumps up._] I know
they’re large and I’m proud of it. The only people
capable of having big ideas in their heads are the
ones with feet large enough to give them a good
understanding. [_Grabs parcels._] I’d like you to
know that I’m not a silly, giggling fashion-plate
who insults her feet by sticking them into shoes far
too small for them and then minces along with her
heels raised on stilts. I can see you can’t suit me so
I’ll try another store, and you needn’t bother about
that speech, either. We can manage without it. [_Goes
towards door R._]
_Enter MR. WILSON._
MR. WILSON [_goes forward and shakes hands_]: How-do-you
do, Miss Firmrock. Allow me to congratulate you on the
excellent work you did in the prohibition campaign.
It’s women like you who are bringing about the reforms
that are so badly needed in this country. And did you
get the boots you wanted?
MISS FIRMROCK: No, I didn’t, this son of yours insulted
me, sir.
MR. WILSON: Oh, I’m sure he didn’t do it intentionally.
But it is his first day at the shoe business and he
hasn’t gotten onto the hang of it yet. It is a pair of
boots you were wanting?
MISS FIRMROCK [_appeased_]: Yes, a good sensible boot
that I don’t have to be thinking about all the time.
MR. WILSON: We have the very thing. [_Takes box from
table and shows her a very large boot._] This size is
seven as it doesn’t come in half sizes. You see it has
a low heel, wide last, cushion sole, everything that
tends for comfort. The price is twenty dollars and
thirty cents.
MISS FIRMROCK: I like the boot immensely, but I wouldn’t
think of paying such a price. It’s exhorbitant.
MR. WILSON: Not for this boot, Madam. This is a very
special boot, designed for broadminded women by the
greatest suffragette leader the world has ever known.
[_Impressively._] Madam, this is the _Pankhurst_ boot
you see before you. We are not allowed to sell it
to anyone who has not done something for the great
cause. You have proved yourself worthy, Miss Firmrock.
[_Bows._]
MISS FIRMROCK [_flattered_]: Oh, Mr. Wilson, do you
really think so? I’ll take them and [_gushes_] every
time I wear them, I’ll feel as though they were a bond
uniting that noble woman and me—and I’ll recommend them
to every woman I know.
MR. WILSON: In that case, I’ll give them to you for
twenty and a quarter. Would you like to try them on?
MISS FIRMROCK [_pays_]: Oh no, I’ll wait until I get
home. [_Takes boots._] Good afternoon, Mr. Wilson. I
hope you’ll be able to make something out of your son
some day. He certainly doesn’t seem to take after you.
MR. WILSON: No, I can’t say that he does. He is just like
his mother. [_Exit_ MISS FIRMROCK.]
JACK [_mops his brow_]: Good lord, dad. If I have any
more of this, I’ll be a stark, staring lunatic by
tonight. [_Shakes finger at him._] And I’ll never trust
your old rules again. Look what that one did for me.
MR. WILSON: But there’s an exception to every rule, and
if you knew anything about feminine psychology, you
would know at a glance that Miss Firmrock was the
exception, the one out of a thousand.
JACK: Hang feminine psychology and feminine vanity and
feminine feet and feminine everything else! A gents’
establishment for mine! [_Brightens up._] But this last
failure of mine has saved you a mighty lot of money and
worry, dad.
MR. WILSON: How do you make that out?
JACK: It has prevented you from having your car smashed
to pieces and your son in the hospital. [_Bell
tinkles._] By jove, here’s another customer. This is a
Jonah day for son Jack, all right.
MR. WILSON: That’s a queer name to apply to a busy day.
JACK: Well, I’m having a whale of a time, aren’t I?
_Exit MR. WILSON, laughing, at door L. Enter MRS. ATKINS at door R._
JACK: Good-morning, Mrs. Atkins, and what can I do for
you this afternoon?
MRS. ATKINS: Will you show me your litest style in boots?
JACK [_puzzled_]: Lightest? Do you mean boots with thin
soles?
MRS. ATKINS: No, it’s good ’eavy walkin’ boots I want,
but they must be in the litest style. I always gets the
litest in everything. Me ’usband, ’ee tells me I hain’t
anything if not stylish.
JACK: Is it something in white you were wanting? That is
the lightest color we keep. [_Gets white boots._]
MRS. ATKINS: Oh, no. I want black so that I can wear them
every day.
JACK: But you said you wanted the lightest—
MRS. ATKINS: Yes, the litest in black.
JACK [_aside_]: The lightest in black! The woman must be
crazy!
_MR. WILSON comes to door. MRS. A. examines boots._
MR. WILSON [_aside to_ JACK]: _Latest, latest_, you
chump! Don’t you know she’s English?
JACK [_aside_]: I get you! [_Aloud._] Oh, you mean the
latest, Mrs. Atkins?
MRS. ATKINS [_tartly_]: Isn’t that what I said, the
litest in black?
JACK [_hurriedly_]: Yes, certainly, Mrs. Atkins, and we
have the very latest here; never keep any other kind,
in fact. [_Places chair for her._] Just take this
chair, please. [_Aside._] Now, which class does she
belong to, the size smaller or size larger? Blest, if
I know. I’ll try her on dad’s Pankhurst dope first.
Shouldn’t wonder but she would fall for that when she’s
so English. [_Takes shoe from table and holds it up._]
Here, madam, you have before you the very latest thing
in boots, no other than the Pankhurst, designed by the
celebrated suffragette leader herself and— [MRS. ATKINS
_knocks boot out of his hand_.] Why, what’s the matter?
MRS. ATKINS [_vehemently_]: Don’t you dare to sell me a
boot that horrid woman’s ’ad anything to do with.
JACK [_aside_]: Struck it wrong again. Oh the
contrariness of woman. [_Aloud._] But my dear madam,
surely you’re an admirer of the woman who was the
greatest pioneer in fighting for the vote for women?
MRS. ATKINS [_jumps up excitedly_]: That’s the very
reason I ’ate ’er. Votes for wimen! What does wimen
want with votes? Us women ’ave enough to do to cook our
’usbands’ meals and tend the childrens’ noses and clean
up the ’ouse after the man’s gone to work, leaving
hashes and mud all over the floor, the way he does.
[_Looks at boots on table._]
JACK [_aside, indicating fourth finger_]: This finger
says, Agree with everything a customer says. [_Aloud._]
That’s my idea, entirely, Mrs. Atkins. I agree with you
there.
MRS. ATKINS [_turns on him_]: What do you know about it,
young man?
JACK [_confused_]: Why, I—I—
MRS. ATKINS: Hit’s me who’s ’ad to suffer on account of
the wimen being given the vote. My ’usband, ’ee’s a
great one for electioneering, ’ee ’is, but he never
used to leave me alone at nights until wimen got the
frances. [_Sobs._] H’ever since then, ’ee’s been
spending ’is evenings in other wimen’s ’omes, teaching
them how to vote and he’s never h’at ’ome any more
except for his meals. Ee do be regular for them, I must
si. Ee ’as such an appetite. [_Sighs deeply several
times._]
JACK [_aside_]: So that’s where the shoe pinches!
[_Aloud._] Now, that’s too bad, Mrs. Atkins. I don’t
blame you for not wanting the Pankhurst boot. I
wouldn’t wear it myself. I’ll show you something else.
What size?
MRS. ATKINS: And you’d sigh, too, young man, if you had
the troubles I’ve had, with your ’usband finding fault
with the cooking ever since other wimen have been
feeding him up and—
JACK [_hurriedly_]: What size boot do you take? That’s
what I mean, Mrs. Atkins.
MRS. ATKINS [_gets ready to go_]: It doesn’t matter wot
size I tike, for I’m not tiking any boots. That’s the
only style of boot I want hand I’d buy it in a minute
if it didn’t ’ave that odious woman’s nime connected
with it. Not content with breaking windows, she ’as to
break up ’omes, too, the hussy. [_Goes towards door
R._] Good-h’afternoon, sir.
_Enter MR. WILSON._
MR. WILSON: Why, good-afternoon, Mrs. Atkins. I trust
you’ve been served satisfactorily?
MRS. ATKINS [_tartly_]: No, I ’aven’t, not with the
Pankhurst boot.
MR. WILSON [_picks up boot_]: Jack, why didn’t you show
her this anti-suffragette style. I’m sure Mrs. Atkins
would like this.
MRS. ATKINS: _The H’ante-suffragette?_ Why, ’ee told me
it was the Pankhurst and—
MR. WILSON [_looks surprised_]: Why, Jack, however could
you make such a mistake as that? The Pankhurst is a
different shoe, altogether. Only dowdy people wear
them. I wouldn’t think of trying to sell that shoe to
_you_, Mrs. Atkins. But you’ll have to make allowance
for my son, here. You see, this is his first day in
selling and he really doesn’t know one style from the
other. But he’ll soon learn.
JACK [_aside as he tidies up the tables_]: Not in a
thousand years, believe me!
MRS. ATKINS: I ’ope so, but ’ee doesn’t look any
too bright, Mr. Wilson. [_JACK shakes fist in her
direction._]
MR. WILSON: Everyone says he takes after his mother.
[_Holds up boot._] Now, this is the very latest thing
we have, worn by all the fashionable and sensible
ladies who are against this tomfoolery of women voting
and entering into politics. It does nothing but break
up homes and—and—would you like to try it on?
MRS. ATKINS [_hurriedly_]: Oh no, I’m sure it’s the right
size by the looks of it. [_Aside._] I wouldn’t for
h’anything let him see the ’ole where my big toe ’as
worked through my stocking. [_Aloud._] I’ll tike them,
Mr. Wilson if they’re not too expenses.
MR. WILSON: The price is ten dollars and forty-five
cents, but I’m only charging you ten-forty on account
of the trouble you have had with my son. [_Wraps boots
up._]
MRS. ATKINS: H’all right, Mr. Wilson, Atkins will be in
to piy for them Saturday night when ’ee gits his week’s
wages. [_Takes parcel._] Good h’afternoon, sir. [_Turns
towards JACK._] And to you too, sir. I ain’t ’olding
any ’ard feelings agin you. You didn’t know any better.
[_Exit._]
JACK [_wildly rumples hair as he strides back and
forth_]: Good heavens, this is awful. [_Stops in front
of MR. WILSON._] Do you see any change in my hair, dad?
MR. WILSON: No, why?
JACK: Then it hasn’t turned grey?
MR. WILSON [_laughs_]: It will take more than that to
turn your head grey. But I thought you were going to
put it all over the dears until they would be tumbling
over each other to buy. Have I quoted you correctly?
JACK: That’s right, rub it in. But when I said that,
I didn’t know that I had to be a politician and a
feminine psychologist and—and an accomplished liar in
order to sell a woman a pair of boots.
MR. WILSON: Not a liar, son. Be careful what you call
your respected parent.
JACK: Well, if what you have been doing all afternoon
isn’t lying, I’d like to know what you’d call it.
MR. WILSON: Diplomacy, my boy.
JACK: The same thing under a fancy name.
MR. WILSON: Not at all. A lie is telling what is
absolutely untrue, Diplomacy is—is—oh yes, it is a
skillful juggling of the truth. [_Bell tinkles._] Here
comes your next triumph. I tell you what I’ll do, I’ll
give you ten dollars for every pair of boots, shoes or
slippers that you sell. [_Exit door L._]
JACK: I guess he knows his money’s safe.
_Enter MRS. O’BRIEN, loaded up with bundles._
MRS. O’BRIEN [_drops bundles on table and mops brow_]:
The saints presarve us, it is a hot day and it’s the
loikes of me that knows it, bendin’ over the washboard
ivery day of me loife, ceptin’ the blissed howly-day,
doin’ other folk’s worruk while they dressin silks
and satin. Shure and Oim afther thinking things ain’t
avenly divided in this worruld, they ain’t. [_Fans
herself with hat._]
JACK [_aside_]: She’s a living eight-day clock.
[_Aloud._] They sure aren’t, Mrs. O’Brien, I agree with
you there.
MRS. O’BRIEN: And be yez a socialist loike meself?
JACK: Sure thing. I’ve never been anything else.
MRS. O’BRIEN: Then yez belave the rich should share with
the downtrodden poor?
JACK [_aside_]: Rule 4. Always agree, etc. [_Aloud._]
Certainly they should share and share alike I say.
MRS. O’BRIEN [_Throws arms around him._]: Shure and yez
is a bohy afther me own heart. [_JACK frees himself._]
It be a pity that yer father ain’t afther belavin’ the
same as yez. But he’s a harrud skin-flit, he is and
Oi’m only afther hopin’ that yez don’t be takin’ afther
him.
JACK [_goes to door L and says aside_]: Get that dad? The
shoe’s on the other foot now. [_Aloud._] I don’t. He
was just telling a customer a few minutes ago that I
wasn’t the least bit like him. And what can I sell you
today? [_As MRS. O’BRIEN talks, he gets behind her and
pretends to wind her up._]
MRS. O’BRIEN: Shure and Oim afther buyin’ shoes for
all the chilrun. There’s Betsy aged noine, she’s me
roight-hand girrul. Then there’s Pat ond Moike, twins
they be both borrun at the same toime and sick limbs
of Satan yez niver see, bless their hearuts. They’re
siven. Then there’s Norah, she’s foive, the swatest
crather that iver wuz hit she wears out her souls
loike they wuz paper. And there’s the baby, he’s jest
crapin’, his name be Rory afther his dad.
JACK [_picks up large box_]: Here is just what you need,
Mrs. O’Brien, boots in family lots. [_Empties them
out._] They come cheaper that way. [_Pulls out very
small shoe._] Now, these are just the thing for Betsy.
MRS. O’BRIEN: Bless me sowl! Me Betsy could niver git
aven her big toe into the loikes of them. They’re more
Norah’s size.
JACK: That’s right. I meant Norah. My mistake. [_Pulls
out two pairs._] And these will suit the twins, Rory
and Mike—
MRS. O’BRIEN: Shure and Rory is six years behint Moike in
comin’ into the worruld. It’s Pat—
JACK: Oh yes, of course, Pat and Mike. They always go
together. Well these will suit—
MRS. O’BRIEN: But shure and me Pat tikes a larger size
than Moike as his fate are bigger.
JACK: All the better, one of these is a size larger
than the other. Family lots are always sold that way.
Now here’s the baby’s [_holds up bootees_] and here’s
[_holds up a larger shoe_] one pair for the baby to
grow into as its— [_MRS. O’BRIEN throws up her hands._]
Why, what’s the matter?
MRS. O’BRIEN: Och, a—nee—o! And it’s mesilf that be
the unnathural parunt. Oi don’t be desarvin’ to have
chilrun, Oi don’t. Here be me Danny at home waitin’
to fill them shoes and me forgittin’ all about the
darlint. Oi’ll be afther takin’ them all, Misther
Wilson, and plaze wrap them in that pi’tcher page.
[_Points to colored supplement._] So that the chilrun
can look at the pitchers. [_JACK wraps them up._.]
JACK [_aside_]: Six pairs of shoes and dad has promised
me ten dollars a pair. Pretty good business, I’ll
tell the world. [_Aloud._] These come to twenty-three
dollars and seventy cents, Mrs. O’Brien, but to
encourage the raising of large families, I’ll just
charge twenty-three, sixty-eight. Will you pay for them
now or have them charged? [_Gives her the shoes._]
MRS. O’BRIEN [_indignantly_]: Pay, did yez say? And
whoiver talked of payin’? Wuzun’t yez jist afther
sayin’ yez wuz a socialist and yez belaved the rich
should share with the poor and—
JACK: Yes, but—
MRS. O’BRIEN [_interrupts_]: And ain’t yez rich and me
as poor as Paddy’s pig afther they took it’s straw bed
away? Niver a cint will Oi be afther payin’.— [_Starts
towards door R._]
JACK: Oh, but I didn’t mean that you could cart away the
whole—
MRS. O’BRIEN: Then yez should say phwat yez mane and mane
phwat yez say. Oi wuz jist afther takin’ yez at yer
worrud. [_Opens door._]
MR. WILSON [_comes in quickly_]: Just a minute, Mrs.
O’Brien.
MRS. O’BRIEN [_drops bundles_]: Howly Moses, and where be
yez afther comin’ from?
MR. WILSON [_picks up shoes_]: From the back of the store
and Mrs. O’Brien, I’m very sorry, but you can’t have
these shoes unless you pay cash for them.
MRS. O’BRIEN: Pay cash? And Oi’d loike to know how the
loikes of me can pay cash whin Oi haven’t a cint to my
name. Bad cess to yez, yez ould skin-flint. [_Shakes
fist in his face._] Yez would skin a flea for its hide,
yez would. May the saints forgit yez and the devil fly
away with yez. [_Exit._]
JACK: Merciful heavens, dad, isn’t she a howly terror?
But what gets me is after raising my hope to the high
pinnacle of sixty dollars, she shooed them away, worse
luck! I confess, dad, that I’m an out and out failure.
I’ve never put in such a day in all my life. I’ll sell
newspapers, shovel coal, dig ditches or—or—or even
teach school before I’ll put in another. I’m through.
Not another customer will I wait on for all the money
in the world. [_Bell tinkles._] There goes that darned
bell. It’s _me_ for the back shop this time. [_Hurries
toward door L._]
MR. WILSON [_looks toward entrance_]: Why, it’s Betty
Moffat back, I wonder—
JACK [_rushes back_]: I’ll wait on her, dad. Clear out.
_Enter BETTY._
MR. WILSON: But I thought—
JACK: Don’t, it’s bad for the brain. Hustle. [_Exit MR.
WILSON._] Why, Bett—Miss Moffat, I didn’t think—
BETTY [_mischievously_]: Don’t, it’s bad for the brain.
[_Both laugh._] I’ve come back to tell you you were
right and—
JACK [_puzzled_]: Right? What about?
BETTY: Why about those slippers; they _are_ too small for
me.
JACK [_aside_]: Hanged if I hadn’t forgotten all about
that, but goodness knows I’ve had enough other things
to worry about. [_Aloud._] Oh, no, Betty, I’m sure they
are the right size; you have such dear little—
BETTY: But they _are_ too small. I tried to dance in them
when I got home and they hurt my feet like everything.
JACK [_tenderly_]: Poor little feet!
BETTY: And I want a half size larger. [_Sits down. JACK
gets slippers and kneels to fit them._] And—and I’m
awfully sorry, Jack, that I was so horrid. I’ve got a
nasty, mean temper and—
JACK: Now, don’t you dare call yourself names. Why Betty,
you’re the sweetest girl that ever lived, you’re—you’re
the dearest thing in boots!
BETTY: That’s just what daddy says when he gets the bills
for them.
JACK: Oh, but I didn’t mean it that way I— [_Aside._]
Hang it, I wish dad weren’t taking in every word I say.
[_Calls._] Dad, come on out here and mind your robber’s
den yourself for awhile. Betty and I are going to the
ice-cream parlor. Come on, Betty. [_Drags her a few
steps with one pump on._]
BETTY: Really Jack, don’t you think I ought to put my
other pump on first? I wouldn’t like to go like this.
What would people say?
JACK: What a dear little foot! [_Puts her slipper on her
foot._] Here you are. Come on. [_Exit BETTY and JACK
hand in hand._]
MR. WILSON [_Enters, picks up slipper and shakes his
head._]: The dearest thing in boots, eh? He’s not far
off for I’ll never be able to sell these. But what’s a
pair of these to my boy’s happiness? [_Pours out glass
of water and raises it._] So here’s to the dearest
thing in boots—and may they ever continue to buy
them—the ladies, God bless them. [_Drinks._]
CURTAIN
Entertainments for All Occasions
_Special Day Entertainments_
=BEST CHRISTMAS PANTOMIMES=—Irish $0.40
=CHOICE CHRISTMAS DIALOGUES AND PLAYS=—Irish .40
=CHOICE CHRISTMAS ENTERTAINMENTS=—Irish .40
=CHRISTMAS AT McCARTHY’S=—Guptill .25
=CHRISTMAS AT PUNKIN HOLLER=—Guptill .25
=CHRISTMAS EVE AT MULLIGAN’S=—Irish .25
=CHRISTMAS SPEAKIN’ AT SKAGG’S SKULE=—Irish .25
=IN A TOY SHOP=—Preston .25
=THE PRIMARY CHRISTMAS BOOK=—Irish .40
=PUMPKIN PIE PETER=—Irish .25
=THE REUNION AT PINE KNOT RANCH=—Irish .25
=SNOWBOUND FOR CHRISTMAS=—Preston .25
=A STRIKE IN SANTA LAND=—Preston .25
=A THANKSGIVING CONSPIRACY=—Irish .25
=A THANKSGIVING DREAM=—Preston .25
=A TOPSY-TURVY CHRISTMAS=—Guptill .25
_Dialogues and Children’s Plays_
=ALL IN A GARDEN FAIR=—Wilbur $0.25
=DOLLS ON DRESS PARADE=—Preston .25
=A PARTY IN MOTHER GOOSE LAND=—Preston .25
=SNAPPY HUMOROUS DIALOGUES=—Irish .40
_Recitations and Pantomimes_
=CATCHY PRIMARY RECITATIONS=—Irish $0.30
=OLD TIME SONGS PANTOMIMED=—Irish .40
_Plays_
=THE DEAREST THING IN BOOTS=—MacKenzie $0.25
=THE GREAT CHICKEN STEALING CASE OF EBENEZER COUNTY=—Richardson .25
=THE GREAT WHISKEY STEALING CASE=—Richardson .25
=MISS JANIE; OR, THE CURTAILED COURTSHIP=—Bonham .25
=THAT AWFUL LETTER=—MacKenzie .25
=THE UNEXPECTED GUEST=—MacKenzie .25
_Monologues_
=AS OUR WASHWOMAN SEES IT=—MacKenzie $0.25
=ASK OUIJA=—MacKenzie .25
=THE COUNTRY COUSIN SPEAKS HER MIND=—MacKenzie .25
=GLADYS REVIEWS THE DANCE=—MacKenzie .25
=I’M ENGAGED=—MacKenzie .25
=SHE SAYS SHE STUDIES=—MacKenzie .25
=SUSAN GETS READY FOR CHURCH=—MacKenzie .25
PAINE PUBLISHING CO. Dayton, Ohio
Entertainments for Christmas
=CHOICE CHRISTMAS ENTERTAINMENTS= =By Marie Irish=
For children of all grades. Contents: 50 recitations, 8 monologues, 11
plays and dialogues, 5 drills and marches, 8 tableaux, 4 pantomimes, 8
pantomimed carols, 8 songs, etc. =Price, 40 cents.=
=THE PRIMARY CHRISTMAS BOOK= =By Marie Irish=
For children under ten years of age. Contents: 68 recitations, 12
exercises, 7 songs, 6 drills, 12 dialogues and plays, 9 pantomimes.
=Price, 40 cents.=
=BEST CHRISTMAS PANTOMIMES= =By Marie Irish=
Twelve pantomimes, each accompanied by complete words, directions and
music. Some are serious and some are in a lighter vein. =Price, 40
cents.=
=CHOICE CHRISTMAS DIALOGUES AND PLAYS= =By Marie Irish=
Ten dialogues for Primary Grades, 10 dialogues for Intermediate Grades
and 8 plays for Grammar Grades. =Price, 40 cents.=
=CHRISTMAS AT McCARTHY’S= =By Elizabeth F. Guptill=
Brimful of fun and Christmas spirit. For any number of young folks and
children. Time, 30 minutes. =Price, 25 cents.=
=CHRISTMAS AT PUNKIN HOLLER= =By Elizabeth F. Guptill=
The old-fashioned school is rehearsing for the Christmas entertainment.
Funny from beginning to end. Time, 30 minutes. For any number of
children. =Price, 25 cents.=
=CHRISTMAS EVE AT MULLIGAN’S= =By Marie Irish=
For all grades. 4 males, 5 females. Time, 30 minutes. A most unusual
play. Plenty of wit and humor as well as more serious episodes. Sure to
be a success. =Price, 25 cents.=
=CHRISTMAS SPEAKIN’ AT SKAGG’S SKULE= =By Marie Irish=
A back woods school entertainment is featured. Easy to prepare and
plenty of fun. For 6 boys and 8 girls. Time, 30 minutes. =Price, 25
cents.=
=IN A TOY SHOP= =By Effa E. Preston=
In rhyme. For 12 or more small children. A clever little play that will
please. Time, 20 minutes. =Price, 25 cents.=
=THE REUNION AT PINE KNOT RANCH= =By Marie Irish=
For upper grades. 5 males and 6 females. Time, 30 minutes. Plenty of
fun and a great surprise. =Price, 25 cents.=
=SNOWBOUND FOR CHRISTMAS= =By Marie Irish=
For 4 boys and 4 girls. For mixed grades. Time, 25 minutes. The older
children play Santa Claus for the younger ones. =Price, 25 cents.=
=A STRIKE IN SANTA LAND= =By Effa E. Preston=
In rhyme. 8 boys, 7 girls. Time, 20 minutes. Very easy but effective.
=Price, 25 cents.=
=A TOPSY-TURVY CHRISTMAS= =By Elizabeth F. Guptill=
Humorous. For any number of children under fourteen years of age. Time,
30 minutes. =Price, 25 cents.=
PAINE PUBLISHING CO. Dayton, Ohio
* * * * *
Transcriber’s Notes:
Obvious punctuation errors repaired.
Back cover had a sticker over part of the text. Text was supplied by
duplicate cover text.
Page 1, title page, “Things” changed to “Thing” (The Dearest Thing in
Boots)
Page 2, cast list “MOFFATT” change to “MOFFAT” (BETTY MOFFAT)
Page 4, the first dialogue in the play spoken by Mr. Wilson, with an
additional “been”:
MR. WILSON: It’s been a whole week, Jack, since you first
came into the store, so if you’ve been been keeping
your ears and eyes open, you will have caught on to
some of my methods.
was repeated at the top of the second page of the dialogue right before
the line beginning:
MR. WILSON: Don’t be so sure, young man. There’s many
The repetition was deleted.
Page 7, a line of dialogue was misplaced, replacing the original. The
transcriber has attempted to come up with a plausible number in its
place. The original read:
MR. WILSON: That’s the great idea, my son. You’re learn-
women out of ten want boots too small for them and
won’t take anything else. That’s why women can endure
pain better than men; they get used to it, breaking in
tight shoes.
It has been amended to:
MR. WILSON: Eight women out of ten want boots too small
for them and won’t take anything else. That’s why women
can endure pain better than men; they get used to it,
breaking in tight shoes.
Page 8, “by” changed to “my” (That’s the great idea, my son)
Page 8, “grandliquently” changed to “grandiloquently” ([_Aloud
grandiloquently._])
Page 9, “treadding” changed to “treading” (Imagine me treading on the)
Page 10, “desparately” changed to “desperately” (JACK [_desperately_]:
Oh, really)
Page 12, character’s last name of “Firmrock” was changed from italics
to match the form of the rest of the play. (MISS FIRMROCK [_pays_]: Oh
no, I’ll wait)
Page 19, “buisness” changed to “business” (Pretty good business)
Page 20, “Ii” changed to “Oi” (whin Oi haven’t a cint)
Both inside and outside of back cover, “McCARTHYS’” and “SKAGGS’”
changed to “McCARTHY’S” and “SKAGG’S” to match actual name of plays.
End of Project Gutenberg's The Dearest Things in Boots, by Edna I. MacKenzie
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