THE FLUTTER
OF THE GOLDLEAF

AND OTHER PLAYS

THE FLUTTER
OF THE GOLDLEAF

AND OTHER PLAYS

BY
OLIVE TILFORD DARGAN
AND
FREDERICK PETERSON

NEW YORK
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
1922

Copyright, 1922, by
CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

PRINTED AT
THE SCRIBNER PRESS
NEW YORK, U. S. A.

CONTENTS

[!-- H2 anchor --]

THE FLUTTER OF THE GOLDLEAF

A PLAY IN ONE ACT

by
Olive Tilford Dargan
and
Frederick Peterson

CHARACTERS

Philo Warner, a student

Hiram Warner, his father, the village grocer

Mary Ann Warner, his mother

Dr. Bellows, the village physician

Dr. Seymour, a city specialist

Reba Sloan, a neighbor's daughter

THE FLUTTER OF THE GOLDLEAF

Scene: Laboratory in the attic of the Warner cottage. At right, toward rear, entrance from down-stairs. A rude partition, left, with door in centre. Window centre rear. Large kitchen table loaded with apparatus. Shelves, similarly loaded, against wall near table, right. Wires strung about. A rude couch, bench, and several wooden chairs.

Time, about 8 p.m. Lamp burns on table. Mrs. Warner comes up-stairs, puts her head inside the room nervously, then enters and looks about.

Mrs. W.

Such a mess! And the doctors will be here in half an hour! (Tries to get busy but seems bothered. Crosses to table and looks at a little machine that stands upon it.) That's what's driving my boy crazy! If I only dared to smash it! The right sort of a mother would do just that! (Looks at machine with dire meditation.)

Warner (without, roaring up the stairs)

Mary Ann!

Mrs. W. (jumps)

Yes, Hiram!

Warner (entering)

Where's Philo?

Mrs. W.

In the orchard. I watched my chance, and thought I'd redd up a little. He won't let me touch anything when he's here.

Warner

Just about lives up here, don't he?

Mrs. W.

Day and night now, since he's been too sick to go to the store. And I can't have Dr. Bellows bring in that specialist from New York with things lookin' as if a woman had never come up the stairs. (Dusting and rattling.)

Warner

Philo's not onto what the doctors are after, is he?

Mrs. W.

He thinks they're coming to look at his machine mostly—and see what's keepin' him awake nights. But maybe he knows. He's awful sharp.

Warner

Sharp? Wish he knew enough to sell eggs and bacon. He's ruinin' my business. Weighs a pound of coffee as if he was asleep. I can see customers watchin' him out o' the tail o' their eye. They're gettin' afraid of him! Mary Ann, the boy's going to be a shame to us. He's crazy!

Mrs. W.

Don't you call my boy crazy. I won't hear it, Hiram.

Warner

No, you'll wait till the whole village tells you! They're all talkin' now!

Mrs. W.

It's none o' their business!

Warner

It'll be their business if he flies up and hurts somebody.

Mrs. W.

Philo wouldn't hurt anything alive. He got mad at me once for killin' a spider.

Warner (scornfully)

Showed his sense there, didn't he?

Mrs. W.

If Philo's queer it's not from my side of the house. You know what your mother was like—wanderin' round nights starin' at the stars with that old spy-glass Captain Barker gave her.

Warner

She was a good mother, all the same.

Mrs. W.

Couldn't cook at all. Your father only kept alive by eating at the neighbors occasionally—and as for sewing and mending, you children went in rags till your Aunt Sary came to live with you.

Warner

Mother thought a heap of us, though. I remember how she cried because I wouldn't go to school and went into the grocery business. And she cried a lot more when I married you. I couldn't understand her—then....

Mrs. W.

Humph! She'd been shut up fast enough if your father hadn't been the softest-hearted man alive.

Warner

Maybe the boy does take after her, but he's worse'n she ever was.

Mrs. W.

She didn't have any books—or college education—to turn her head.

Warner

Nothing to read but the Weekly Mirror. It was a good paper, though, all about crops and stock, and what the country people were doing, and a love story on the inside page. Father subscribed on her account. She told him her mind had to have something to work on. But she didn't take to the paper, and he had to read it himself to get his money's worth.

Mrs. W.

A good thing she didn't have a library to get at like Philo. All those books he brought home didn't do him any good. He began to get queer about the time he was reading that set of Sir Humphry Davy's Complete Works, with so much about electrics and the stars, and that sort of stuff. If we could only get him to quit this studyin' and stay out-o'-doors....

Warner

S'pose we clear out this hole—burn the books, and get rid of all these confounded wires and jars and fixings. I don't believe he saves a penny of the wages I give him for helpin' to ruin me. All he makes goes for this truck. We'll clear it out.

Mrs. W.

I've thought of that, but we oughtn't to go too far. They're his anyhow, and I'm afraid——

Warner

Well, I'm not afraid! And I'll begin with this devil! (Pauses over machine. Starts suddenly.) What's that? He's coming!

Mrs. W. (listening)

It's only Alice going to her room.

Warner

Perhaps we'd better see what the specialist says first.

Mrs. W.

I know Dr. Bellows wants us to send Philo away. But I'm against that, first and last.

Warner

You wouldn't be if you'd listen to Bellows awhile. You know what he told me when I met him this morning? "Why, Warner," he says, "I never go to see the boy without taking a pair of handcuffs in my pocket. It's the quiet ones that go the wildest when they do break out."

Mrs. W.

Oh, Hiram, it's not going to be so bad as that. Don't let him set you against your own flesh and blood. Just let me manage awhile. He needs to get stirred up about something—get his mind off this. I wish I hadn't stopped those letters he was getting from Reba Sloan when she went off to school two years ago.

Warner

But you said you'd rather see him dead than married to Sloan's girl.

Mrs. W.

I meant it, too! But seeing your child dead is not so bad as seeing him crazy—and if Reba can save him——

Warner

How in thunder——

Mrs. W.

She's a taking girl, Hiram—since she got back. If Philo gets his mind fixed on her, she'll soon have him forgettin' this. Why,—you remember for three months before we were married you couldn't think o' nothing but me.

Warner

Good Lord! Is that so, Mary Ann?

Mrs. W.

I had to hurry up the weddin' to save your business. You were letting Jabe McKenny take all your trade right under your nose.

Warner

Sakes 'a' mighty! If I could come out of a spell like that, there's some hope for our poor chap.

Mrs. W.

That's what I'm telling you!

Warner

But Reba's father—you going to have old fiddler Sloan in the family?

Mrs. W.

He's come into some money now, and any gentleman can take an interest in music.

Warner

And the mother was that foreign woman.

Mrs. W.

But she's dead. It's just as well Philo won't have a mother-in-law.

Warner

Reba'll have one, all right. If Philo stays queer it'll be hard on the girl, won't it?

Mrs. W.

He'll not stay queer. If he gets that girl in his head there won't be room for anything else—for a while anyway. He'll be worse'n you ever was. You let me manage it, Hiram.

(Philo is heard coming up the stairs. They listen in silence until he enters. He is talking, not quite audibly, to himself, and doesn't see them. Goes to table and stands by machine.)

Philo

Here—at last—I have caught the word ... the word of the stars.

Mrs. W.

Philo!

Philo (looking up)

Mother!... Father!... (In alarm.) You haven't touched anything here?

Mrs. W.

No, my son. I've just put the place to rights a bit. Dr. Seymour is coming, you know.

Philo

Yes. (Walks the floor, meditating.)

Warner

You must come out of this dream, Philo.

Philo

It is not a dream! I am the only being in the world who is awake!

Mrs. W.

My son!

Philo

Man sleeps—like the rocks, trees, hills—while all around him, out of the unseen, beating on blind eyes, deaf ears, numbed brain, sweep the winds of eternity, the ether waves, the signals from the deeps of space!

Warner

Hey, diddle, diddle!

Philo

Sleep-walkers all—the people in the streets, the shops—the mad people with their heaps of gold!

Mrs. W.

Now don't work yourself up, Philo, with the doctor coming. You want to tell him about your machine.

Philo

Yes. He is a great man. He has studied these things. I will talk to him. He will not laugh.

Warner

Mary Ann, don't you think we'd better bring up some cider? It'll look more hospitable like.

Mrs. W.

That city doctor won't care anything about cider.

Warner

My cider's good enough for anybody! And Dr. Bellows'll be sure to ask for it.

Mrs. W.

Well, wait till he does. (Looks uneasily about room.) Don't you think, son, that if you're going to take to having visitors here I'd better move some furniture up? You could have the haircloth sofa—the springs are broke anyway—and Alice says she don't want the wax flowers in the parlor any more. They're turnin' yellow, but you wouldn't notice it up here.

Philo (clinching his hands)

Do what you like, mother, only don't take anything out. If anything happened to my work I believe I'd go crazy!

(The parents look at each other.)

Warner

Thought your work was tendin' the store.

Philo

Brother Will is more help there than I am, father.

Warner

You're right about that. Will's got a head on.

Mrs. W.

You'd better go down, Hiram, and meet the doctors.

Warner

Alice'll show them up.

Mrs. W.

Where's that strange smell comin' from? Do you work in the other room, too, Philo? (Goes in, left.)

Philo

Father ... I'm sorry about the store ... I wish I could tell you ... but what's the use? You won't believe!

(Re-enter Mrs. W.)

Mrs. W.

Gracious! I couldn't breathe in there! Got to clear something out before Reba comes up here. She'd have no respect for my housekeeping.

Philo

Reba?

Mrs. W.

Reba Sloan. She's been asking if she couldn't come. She's just wild to see your machine.

Philo

Don't you ever let her up here, mother!

Mrs. W.

But she asked me, Philo—and a neighbor's daughter, you know——

Philo

I thought she was away from home.

Mrs. W.

Been back a month—walks all about right under your eyes. You ought to be civil, Philo.

Philo

I want to see Dr. Seymour. I should like to have him know what I'm doing. But if you're going to turn the whole village in here, I'll bar the door, that's all.

Mrs. W.

My son, if you'd only interest yourself a little——

Philo

I'm not interested in anything nearer than thirty-five million miles!

Warner

What did I tell you, Mary Ann?

Mrs. W.

I hear the doctors! Now, Philo, if you can't talk sense, don't say anything.

(Enter Seymour and Bellows.)

Bellows

Good evening, Warner. How d' do, Mrs. Warner! My friend, Dr. Seymour.

Warner and Mrs. W.

How do you do, sir!

Bellows

Philo, I've brought Dr. Seymour around to have a talk with you. He's down from New York for a day or two. Been sleeping any better?

Philo

Too much. I need all my time. I'm very glad to see you, Dr. Seymour.

(All take seats.)

Mrs. W.

I hope you'll excuse the looks of the room, doctor.

Seymour

It looks very interesting indeed to me, Mrs. Warner. The workshop of a student, and a busy one. (To Philo.) You've been working too hard, I see.

Philo

I'm tired, perhaps, but I am well. When a man makes a momentous discovery he is apt to be overwrought. He may not eat or sleep well for a time. He may even appear to be strange or mad.

(Mrs. W. coughs suddenly.)

Mrs. W.

I'm afraid that's not a comfortable chair, Dr. Seymour.

Seymour

Quite comfortable, Mrs. Warner.

Mrs. W. (rapidly)

Philo is my oldest boy, and I never could keep him away from books. Will, my second son, is as steady in the store as his father himself, and Johnny is just fine on the wagon. As for Alice, there's not a neater all-round girl to be found anywhere. They're healthy, sensible children, every one of 'em, and don't care what's inside any book in the world—but Philo was just bent on going to college——

Seymour

A very natural bent for an ambitious boy.

Bellows

Tell us about the discovery, Philo, my lad.

Philo (rising and walking slowly up and down the room)

I think I will. It will be another experiment. I know what the effect will be on Dr. Bellows. He is an old friend of mine—but you, sir, are a stranger. I should like to try your mind and see if you are awake or asleep.

(Bellows winks toward Seymour, who takes no notice, but gives Philo careful attention.)

Seymour

I hope I shall not disappoint you.

Philo

I believe we have some points of view in common, for your profession needs to take note of many problems connected with both evolution and electricity. I have been a reader of general science for many years. The fact that on the earth we have had a slow evolution from a monad to a man contains a promise of further development of man into—let us say an angel.

Bellows

Not very soon, I guess.

Philo (sharply)

Hardly in your day, doctor. You needn't worry about the fashion in wing-feathers.

Seymour

Go on, Mr. Warner.

Philo

In others of the many millions of globes about us in space, a similar evolution is going on, and in some the evolution is less advanced than in ours, in others incomparably more advanced.

Seymour

We may admit that.

(Bellows looks to Warner for sympathy, and shakes his head.)

Philo

We have reached a stage when we have begun to peer out into the stellar depths and question them. We are beginning to master the light and the lightning, to measure the vastness of space, to weigh the suns, to determine the elements that comprise them, to talk and send messages thousands of miles without wires. Each year uncovers new wonders, infinitely minute, infinitely great.

Seymour

True,—all true.

Philo (becoming more repressed and tensely excited as he goes on)

The dreams of the alchemists are being realized. That machine yonder detects the waves from a millionth of a millionth of a milligramme of radium.

Seymour

What!

Philo

I have invented a tuned electroscope that would be destroyed by such waves, so sensitive as to react only to waves from an inconceivable distance, beyond thirty-five million miles.

Seymour (trying to take it in)

Thirty-five million miles!

Philo (with great tension)

Three weeks ago I made this instrument, and ever since then, at regular intervals, there have been rhythmic flutterings of the goldleaf, regular repetitions, as if it were knocking at the door of earth from the eternal silences. I have watched it—the same measured fluttering—two beats—then three—then two—then four and a pause! It is a studied measure! It has meaning! When I first noticed it—the faint flutter of the goldleaf—and knew that any waves from a nearer point than thirty-five million miles would utterly destroy so delicate an instrument—my hair stood on end. I have watched it three weeks—alone—and you ask me why I do not sleep!... Look!

(The doctors spring up electrified, and stare at the instrument.)

Philo

There it is again! Two beats—then three—then two—then four—now it is over!

(Seymour continues to stare at the instrument. Bellows subsides into a chair, looking foolish.)

Seymour (to himself)

Impossible!... (To Philo.) What was it you were saying? What did you see?

Philo

I saw what you saw—signals from a distance farther than the distance of the nearest planet to our earth.

Seymour (shaken)

But I saw nothing. At least a slight movement in anything so sensitive might be due to many causes....

Philo

Yes! It is always the old story. Truths must be hammered into humanity! Branded in with flame, or driven in with sword and bullet!

Bellows (starting up alarmed)

Hadn't we better be going, doctor?

Philo

Oh, no! Wait till you've talked me over. Decide whether I'm mad or not! If I'm a menace to the community! If I must be locked up! My father and mother are waiting to know. Don't go! Finish your work! (Rushes into room, left.)

Bellows (triumphantly to Seymour)

Well?

(Seymour hesitates, looks at the father and mother, then at Bellows, and takes out his match-case.)

Bellows (making a conquest of the obvious)

Warner, a little of that fine cider of yours would just finish off our chat.

Warner

Nothing better! (Starting out, whispers to Mrs. W.) Where's grandma's silver pitcher?

Mrs. W.

I'll get that.

(They go down-stairs.)

Bellows (laughing)

She never lets him go to the cellar by himself.