General Chadbourne.
Butler.
(In a low voice over the crowd)
General Chadbourne.
Isn't that Captain Haskell?
Butler.
(Egerton comes forward, making his way through
the crowd)
General Chadbourne.
(The Butler goes to him and they talk)
Ralph Ardsley.
(Calls after Egerton as he goes out left)
(Calls to Chadbourne)
Governor Braddock.
What's your opinion of these mysteries, Bishop?
Bishop Hardbrooke.
I'm one of those that simply stand and wait.
Governor Braddock.
You don't believe in modern miracles.
Bishop Hardbrooke.
There are miracles and miracles, Governor Braddock.
I try to keep elastic in these things,
Steering a middle course with open mind.
Ralph Ardsley.
(Calls to Chadbourne)
Needed just this to crown the time we're having.
Bishop Hardbrooke.
We are living in an age in many ways
Without a parallel. I sometimes think—
If I may say it not too seriously—
Of those last days we read of when the world
Goes on its way unconscious of the end.
We give and take in marriage, eat and drink,
And meet our friends in social intercourse,
And all the while a Spirit walks beside us,
Enters our homes and writes upon our walls.
There are whispers everywhere if we could hear them;
And some of them grow louder with the days;
And pools of quiet ruffle and show storms.
You, Governor, feel the popular unrest
As it manifests itself in politics,
The shift of parties and of principles,
Rocks that we used to think would never change.
And brother Egerton in industry;
He feels it.
Egerton.
(Appearing at the door, excited, and keeping back
so as not to be seen by the people)
(The General joins him and they disappear)
Bishop Hardbrooke.
I sincerely hope
We're on the eve, however, of a day
When trouble-makers in the ranks of Labor,
Not only here in Foreston but elsewhere,
May find it to their interest to respect,
Nay, reverence as a thing ordained by God,
The right of men to earn their daily bread,
As well as profitable to obey the laws
Without the unseemly presence of armed men.
(There is a clapping of hands. General Chadbourne
appears just inside the door and beckons
to Ardsley, who goes in to him)
Bishop Hardbrooke.
And I will take occasion here and now
To say what you've been thinking all this while,
And in the presence of the man himself:
We are fortunate, my friends——
Ralph Ardsley.
(Appears and calls to one of the guests farther
back)
Bishop Hardbrooke.
In having at the helm of our great State
One who loves order more than he loves votes.
(General clapping of hands)
Several.
Guest.
(In a low voice over the crowd)
Several.
(The Governor bows)
Cries.
Governor Braddock.
My friends,
I quite agree with the Bishop.
Several.
Governor Braddock.
I don't mean in his estimate of me.
(More laughter. The Governor catches sight of
the guest beckoning to him)
Governor Braddock.
But here's my better half. You might ask her.
Pardon me till I see——
Ralph Ardsley.
(Calls urgently to the Bishop in a voice that is
barely heard)
Bishop Hardbrooke.
Society, my friends, is like this house,
This mansion that we all so much admire.
(Ardsley stands impassive till the Governor has
gone out and the Bishop has again got the
attention of the people, then goes quickly into
the side room)
Bishop Hardbrooke.
Imagine what a state of things we'd have
If every wooden fellow in these walls,
Not only here but in the mill upstairs,
Should lend his heart to tongues of discontent
Until his very tools became a burden.
A Voice.
Bishop Hardbrooke.
Very true. Where would this be,
This beautiful thing that Colonel Egerton
Has built with so much labor and so much taste?
And out there in the world where we all dwell,
Where all of us have places in the walls,
Some working with their hands on farms, in mines;
Some building; some at forges; at machines
Weaving our garments; others more endowed
Loaned to us from the higher planes of being,
Men of the Over-Soul, inventors, dreamers,
Planners of longer railroads, bigger mills,
The great preparers for the finer souls
That build the dome, the finishers of things,
Prophets of God, musicians, artists, poets,
As we've all seen how Colonel Egerton
In his third story has his books and pictures—
Suppose a bitter wind of discontent
Should shake the great walls of this social order,
Set the first story men against the second,
The second against the third, until the mass,
Throwing their tools down on the world's great floor,
Should clamor up the dome for pens and brushes,
Shutting their eyes to the cold facts of life
That we climb up Life's ladder by degrees—
(His attention is attracted for a moment to a
group of men that has been collecting forward
centre, evidently concerned with whatever it is
that is going on in the side room)
Bishop Hardbrooke.
(Recovering himself quickly)
But I'm afraid, my friends——
Several.
Bishop Hardbrooke.
I'm wasting good material for a sermon.
A Man's Voice.
Bishop Hardbrooke.
I started to say brethren.
(Laughter)
A Lady.
(In the foreground)
Isn't he just too bright for anything!
Bishop Hardbrooke.
A Man.
(Joining the group)
Bishop Hardbrooke.
To come home to the task
That brother Egerton lays upon our ears.
We have all of us read stories and seen things.
(Laughter)
A Voice.
(General laughter)
Bishop Hardbrooke.
(Mrs. Egerton, who, since the ringing of the telephone
bell, has shown an increasing anxiety
as to the message that has come, unable longer
to contain herself, comes hurriedly forward
through the people)
Bishop Hardbrooke.
Don't let us scare you, sister Egerton.
(Laughter. The people turn just in time to see
Governor Braddock, General Chadbourne, and
Ralph Ardsley with overcoats on and hats in
their hands, stealing across to get out forward
right. Mrs. Egerton hurries into the room
from which they came)
Ralph Ardsley.
(The three go out)
Voices.
What's the matter? What's the matter?
Pale Lady.
It's something terrible, I know it is.
Lady in Black.
We always have to pay for our good times.
(George Egerton and Gladys Egerton come
quickly from the conservatory and enter the
side room)
Elderly Lady.
I shouldn't wonder if those horrid strikers
Were burning the mill.
Lady in Black.
Or may be some one's hurt.
Lady With the Conspicuous Coiffure.
Fat Lady.
Young Matron.
(Calling out)
Please tell us what's the trouble.
(A silence)
Pale Lady.
Bishop Hardbrooke.
(Coming forward)
It has been suggested, friends, in view of this
Personal something that has happened here—
I don't know what it is, but we all know
In trouble how we like to be alone.
Later I'll call them up and for us all
Extend our sympathy when we know the cause.
(There is a movement of people departing)
Pink Lady.
Fat Lady.
Lady With the Conspicuous Coiffure.
'Twas more like anger; didn't you see his face?
Lady in Black.
When everything was so, so beautiful!
(They vanish with the other guests. A minute
or so later the Butler enters, right rear, and
walks as though dazed through the empty hall)
A Maid.
(Appearing right rear)
Second Maid.
(Appears beside her)
Butler.
(Without turning)
First Maid.
Butler.
Second Maid.
Gladys Egerton.
(Appearing forward left)
Gone!
Father, they've gone!
George Egerton.
(Comes in quickly)
(Goes rear)
Gladys Egerton.
(Looks in the room forward right)
George Egerton.
(Calls into the conservatory)
Chester! Marjorie! Well, I'll be damned!
Gladys Egerton.
I hate him, O I hate him!
George Egerton.
Gladys Egerton.
What will we ever do! Just think of it!
George Egerton.
(To the Butler)
Why do you stand that way?
(Comes to the door forward left)
(Donald Egerton comes in, putting on his overcoat)
Mrs. Egerton.
(Following him)
Remember, Donald, he's our son.
George Egerton.
Always defending him! You make me sick.
Mrs. Egerton.
You've always said you never in your life
Lost hold upon yourself.
Gladys Egerton.
Egerton.
(To the Butler)
Tell Jack to bring the car to the front door.
(The Butler goes out centre right)
George Egerton.
Wait, father, till I get my——
(Starts for the room forward left)
Mrs. Egerton.
If he's done it—
He has some reason, Donald. And you know
Jergens has never liked him.
(Harry Egerton comes in right rear, his hat and
shoulders covered with snow)
Mrs. Egerton.
(She hurries to him and embraces him)
Harry Egerton.
Mrs. Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
(George Egerton reappears)
Gladys Egerton.
I just hate you!
You selfish thing! See what you've done!
Harry Egerton.
George Egerton.
(With a sneer)
Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
I hadn't the least intention, father——
George Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
Mrs. Egerton.
What is it you've done, Harry?
George Egerton.
(To the Butler and the Maids who have appeared
at the doors)
Harry Egerton.
(Egerton Tosses His Overcoat Into the Side Room)
Mrs. Egerton.
Harry, is it true
You kept the men from going back to work?
Harry Egerton.
I wanted to have a talk with father first.
Egerton.
George Egerton.
(To his mother)
Mrs. Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
All my life
I've wanted to say something to you, father;
Especially since I went to work. You once,
When I came home from college, you remember,
And hadn't made my mind up what to do,
What my life work should be——
Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
We talked together and you said that now
Three things lay open to me, that I could choose
And that you'd back me up. First, there was Art.
And though you didn't say so, I could see
You'd have been glad if I had chosen that.
I had a talent for it, so you said,
And I could study with the best of them.
You'd set aside a hundred thousand dollars;
And I could finish up by travelling,
Seeing the beautiful buildings of the world;
That I could take my time, then settle down
And glorify my land: that's what you said.
Then there was Public Life. You'd start me in
By giving me the Courier. That, you said,
Would give me at once a standing among men
And training in political affairs.
And that if I made good you'd see to it
I had a seat in Congress, and in the end
That probably I'd be Governor of the State.
And then you paused. You didn't like the third.
Business, you said, was an unpleasant life.
'Twas all right as you'd used it, as a means,
But as an end—And then you used words, father,
That changed my life although you didn't know it—
'Business, my son, is war; needful at times,
But as a life,—you shook your head and sighed.
With that we ended it, for some one came
And I went out. Six years ago last June,
The seventh of June; I can't forget the day.
The sun was shining but a strange new light
Lay over everything. All of a sudden
It dawned upon my mind that I'd been reared
Inside a garden full of flowers and trees,
And only now had chanced upon the gate
And stepped out. There was smoke upon the skies
And a rumbling of strange wagons in the street.
I was afraid. For every man I met
Seemed just about to ask, 'What side are you on?'
And I was twenty-one and didn't know.
Egerton.
You seem to have found out since you've been away.
Harry Egerton.
I'd always thought 'twas garden everywhere.
I walked on up the river and sat down
Upon the logs up there, and night came on.
And in the waters flowing at my feet
The lighted land went by, cities and towns
And the vast murmur and the daily life
Of those that toil, the hunger and the care.
And in my heart I knew that it was true,
That what you said was true. And I came back
Filled with such peace as I had never known.
'I'll enter business, father.' And I did.
I started at the bottom in the mill
Helping the engineer, and from the saws
Carried the lumber with the other men.
Then in the yard. You always praised my work.
I'm in the office now at twenty-seven,
And Secretary of the Company.
I think I know the business pretty well.
You've said so. But somehow——
(He pauses)
Mrs. Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
In Public Life, if I had chosen that,
And after six years' work that you approved,
If one day I had come——
Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
'Father, I can't go on; my way is blocked
And all my hopes are falling to the ground.'
There's nothing, not one thing you wouldn't have done.
Or if I had a building half way up,
My masterpiece, a mighty capitol
That finished would be known throughout the land,
And I had met with interference, men
Who had no vision—you know what I mean—
And I had come to you, 'Father, I'm thwarted,'
O I can see with one sweep of your hand
How you would clear the skies.
Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
George Egerton.
And thought you'd blackmail father.
Harry Egerton.
Listen to me!
For probably in all my life I'll never
Speak to you as I'm speaking now, my father.
Mrs. Egerton.
George Egerton.
Mrs. Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
In these six years for one cause or another
There've been three strikes that have cost the Company thousands
In money, to say nothing of those things
That all the money in the world can't buy.
Now let me ask, my father, if this loss,
Instead of springing from these strikes, had come
Through breakdowns of the machinery, or in the camps
Through failure to get the timber out in time,
Wouldn't you have dismissed the man in charge?
Then why do you let Jergens run the mill?
Hasn't he failed, and miserably, with the men?
George Egerton.
What have you to do with it?
Egerton.
(George Egerton walks away and stands by the
pine trees, picking off and biting the needles)
Harry Egerton.
Is it because the earnings have increased?
Think what it's cost you, father. In every mill
Jergens has touched he's left a cursing there
That's all come back on us. Why, my father,
Our name's become a by-word through the State,
'As hard as Egerton.' And when I think
Of what might be, the good-will and the peace,
The happiness! There's not the least excuse
For this cut in wages, father, and you know it.
Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
You can't help but know it. You've the books;
You know what you've been making. But that aside:
To come to what I would say: You've won this strike.
You have the men in your power and you can say,
'Go back,' and they'll go back. But you won't do it.
Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
Will you, when you know you're wrong?
When you know you're losing friends who love what's right?
Think of the sentiment against you, father.
No, father, you don't know what's going on.
Egerton.
Harry Egerton.
If you knew how they live
And the hard time they have to get along.
It isn't fair, my father, it isn't fair.
Gladys Egerton.
(In tears, to her mother)