General Books

THE GHOST OF JERRY BUNDLER. Scene.—The Commercial Room in an old-fashioned hotel in a small country town. An air of old-fashioned comfort is in evidence everywhere. Old sporting prints on the walls. On the table up C. are half a dozen candlesticks, old-fashioned shape with snuffer attached. Two pairs of carpet slippers are set up within fender. Red curtains to window recess. Shutters or blinds to... more...

CHARACTERS JIM WESTON: Guitarist, Methodist, slightly arrogant, agressive, somewhat self-important, ready with his tongue. DAVE CARTER: Dancer, Baptist, soft, happy-go-lucky character, slightly dumb and unable to talk rapidly and wittily. DAISY TAYLOR: Methodist, domestic servant, plump, dark and sexy, self-conscious of clothes and appeal, fickle. JOE CLARK: The Mayor, storekeeper and postmaster,... more...

THE FIRST ACT One of the city gates of Pekin. Over the gate, planted on iron poles, a row of severed heads with shaven crowns and Turkish tufts. TIME: Shortly after sunrise. When the curtain rises the gate is closed. From within the roll of drums and military commands. BRIGELLA. (Behind the scenes.) Halt! Present arms! TRUFFALDINO. (Behind the scenes.) Halt! Slope swords! Open the gate! At ease! Quick... more...

ACT I. AT LOAM HOUSE, MAYFAIR A moment before the curtain rises, the Hon. Ernest Woolley drives up to the door of Loam House in Mayfair. There is a happy smile on his pleasant, insignificant face, and this presumably means that he is thinking of himself. He is too busy over nothing, this man about town, to be always thinking of himself, but, on the other hand, he almost never thinks of any other... more...

For one may apprehend the whole truth to be somewhat thus.  Satiric comedy, or comedy of manners, is the art of making ludicrous in dramatic form some phase of life.  The writers of our old comedy thought that certain vices—gambling, adultery, and the like—formed a phase of life which for divers reasons, essential and accidental, lent itself best to their purpose.  They may, or may not, have... more...

HOW TO BE A GOOD RADIO ACTOR The play in this book has actually been produced on the radio. Possibly you have listened to this one when you tuned in at home. The persons whose voices you heard as you listened, looked just as they did when they left their homes to go to the studio, although they were taking the parts of men and women who lived long ago and who wore costumes very different from the ones... more...

ACT I At the most wretched hour between a black night and a wintry morning in the year 1777, Mrs. Dudgeon, of New Hampshire, is sitting up in the kitchen and general dwelling room of her farm house on the outskirts of the town of Websterbridge. She is not a prepossessing woman. No woman looks her best after sitting up all night; and Mrs. Dudgeon's face, even at its best, is grimly trenched by the... more...

ACT I A large old-fashioned room in Matthew Beeler's farm-house, near a small town in the Middle West. The room is used for dining and for general living purposes. It suggests, in architecture and furnishings, a past of considerable prosperity, which has now given place to more humble living. The house is, in fact, the ancestral home of Mr. Beeler's wife, Mary, born Beardsley, a family of the... more...

SCENE I. Sutlers' tents—in front, a Slop-shop. Soldiers of all colors anduniforms thronging about. Tables all filled. Croats and Hulanscooking at a fire. Sutler-woman serving out wine. Soldier-boysthrowing dice on a drum-head. Singing heard from the tent. Enter a Peasant and his Son. SON.Father, I fear it will come to harm,So let us be off from this soldier swarm;But boist'rous mates will... more...

FIRST ACT SCENE Morning-room in Algernon’s flat in Half-Moon Street.  The room is luxuriously and artistically furnished.  The sound of a piano is heard in the adjoining room. [Lane is arranging afternoon tea on the table, and after the music has ceased, Algernon enters.] Algernon.  Did you hear what I was playing, Lane? Lane.  I didn’t think it polite to listen, sir. Algernon.  I’m sorry... more...