CHAPTER XVIII

by Sinclair Lewis

　　ISHE hurried to the first meeting of the play-reading committee. Herjungle romance had faded, but she retained a religious fervor, a surgeof half-formed thought about the creation of beauty by suggestion.A Dunsany play would be too difficult for the Gopher Prairieassociation. She would let them compromise on Shaw--on "Androcles andthe Lion," which had just been published.The committee was composed of Carol, Vida Sherwin, Guy Pollock, RaymieWutherspoon, and Juanita Haydock. They were exalted by the picture ofthemselves as being simultaneously business-like and artistic. Theywere entertained by Vida in the parlor of Mrs. Elisha Gurrey'sboarding-house, with its steel engraving of Grant at Appomattox, itsbasket of stereoscopic views, and its mysterious stains on the grittycarpet.Vida was an advocate of culture-buying and efficiency-systems. Shehinted that they ought to have (as at the committee-meetings of theThanatopsis) a "regular order of business," and "the reading of theminutes," but as there were no minutes to read, and as no one knewexactly what was the regular order of the business of being literary,they had to give up efficiency.Carol, as chairman, said politely, "Have you any ideas about what playwe'd better give first?" She waited for them to look abashed and vacant,so that she might suggest "Androcles."Guy Pollock answered with disconcerting readiness, "I'll tell you: sincewe're going to try to do something artistic, and not simply fool around,I believe we ought to give something classic. How about 'The School forScandal'?""Why----Don't you think that has been done a good deal?""Yes, perhaps it has."Carol was ready to say, "How about Bernard Shaw?" when he treacherouslywent on, "How would it be then to give a Greek drama--say 'OedipusTyrannus'?""Why, I don't believe----"Vida Sherwin intruded, "I'm sure that would be too hard for us. Now I'vebrought something that I think would be awfully jolly."She held out, and Carol incredulously took, a thin gray pamphletentitled "McGinerty's Mother-in-law." It was the sort of farce which isadvertised in "school entertainment" catalogues as:Riproaring knock-out, 5 m. 3 f., time 2 hrs., interior set, popular withchurches and all high-class occasions.Carol glanced from the scabrous object to Vida, and realized that shewas not joking."But this is--this is--why, it's just a----Why, Vida, I thought youappreciated--well--appreciated art."Vida snorted, "Oh. Art. Oh yes. I do like art. It's very nice. But afterall, what does it matter what kind of play we give as long as we get theassociation started? The thing that matters is something that none ofyou have spoken of, that is: what are we going to do with the money, ifwe make any? I think it would be awfully nice if we presented the highschool with a full set of Stoddard's travel-lectures!"Carol moaned, "Oh, but Vida dear, do forgive me but this farce----Nowwhat I'd like us to give is something distinguished. Say Shaw's'Androcles.' Have any of you read it?""Yes. Good play," said Guy Pollock.Then Raymie Wutherspoon astoundingly spoke up:"So have I. I read through all the plays in the public library, so'sto be ready for this meeting. And----But I don't believe you graspthe irreligious ideas in this 'Androcles,' Mrs. Kennicott. I guess thefeminine mind is too innocent to understand all these immoral writers.I'm sure I don't want to criticize Bernard Shaw; I understand he is verypopular with the highbrows in Minneapolis; but just the same----As faras I can make out, he's downright improper! The things he SAYS----Well,it would be a very risky thing for our young folks to see. It seems tome that a play that doesn't leave a nice taste in the mouth and thathasn't any message is nothing but--nothing but----Well, whatever it maybe, it isn't art. So----Now I've found a play that is clean, and there'ssome awfully funny scenes in it, too. I laughed out loud, reading it.It's called 'His Mother's Heart,' and it's about a young man in collegewho gets in with a lot of free-thinkers and boozers and everything, butin the end his mother's influence----"Juanita Haydock broke in with a derisive, "Oh rats, Raymie! Can themother's influence! I say let's give something with some class to it.I bet we could get the rights to 'The Girl from Kankakee,' and that's areal show. It ran for eleven months in New York!""That would be lots of fun, if it wouldn't cost too much," reflectedVida.Carol's was the only vote cast against "The Girl from Kankakee."IIShe disliked "The Girl from Kankakee" even more than she had expected.It narrated the success of a farm-lassie in clearing her brother of acharge of forgery. She became secretary to a New York millionaire andsocial counselor to his wife; and after a well-conceived speech on thediscomfort of having money, she married his son.There was also a humorous office-boy.Carol discerned that both Juanita Haydock and Ella Stowbody wanted thelead. She let Juanita have it. Juanita kissed her and in the exuberantmanner of a new star presented to the executive committee her theory,"What we want in a play is humor and pep. There's where Americanplaywrights put it all over these darn old European glooms."As selected by Carol and confirmed by the committee, the persons of theplay were: John Grimm, a millionaire . . . . Guy Pollock His wife. . . . . . . . . Miss Vida Sherwin His son . . . . . . . . . Dr. Harvey Dillon His business rival. . . . . . . Raymond T. Wutherspoon Friend of Mrs. Grimm . . . . . . Miss Ella Stowbody The girl from Kankakee . . . . . Mrs. Harold C. Haydock Her brother. . . . . . . . Dr. Terence Gould Her mother . . . . . . . . Mrs. David Dyer Stenographer . . . . . . . . Miss Rita Simons Office-boy . . . . . . . . Miss Myrtle Cass Maid in the Grimms' home . . . . Mrs. W. P. Kennicott Direction of Mrs. Kennicott Among the minor lamentations was Maud Dyer's "Well of course I suppose Ilook old enough to be Juanita's mother, even if Juanita is eight monthsolder than I am, but I don't know as I care to have everybody noticingit and----"Carol pleaded, "Oh, my DEAR! You two look exactly the same age. I choseyou because you have such a darling complexion, and you know with powderand a white wig, anybody looks twice her age, and I want the mother tobe sweet, no matter who else is."Ella Stowbody, the professional, perceiving that it was because of aconspiracy of jealousy that she had been given a small part, alternatedbetween lofty amusement and Christian patience.Carol hinted that the play would be improved by cutting, but as everyactor except Vida and Guy and herself wailed at the loss of a singleline, she was defeated. She told herself that, after all, a great dealcould be done with direction and settings.Sam Clark had boastfully written about the dramatic association to hisschoolmate, Percy Bresnahan, president of the Velvet Motor Companyof Boston. Bresnahan sent a check for a hundred dollars; Sam addedtwenty-five and brought the fund to Carol, fondly crying, "There!That'll give you a start for putting the thing across swell!"She rented the second floor of the city hall for two months. All throughthe spring the association thrilled to its own talent in that dismalroom. They cleared out the bunting, ballot-boxes, handbills, leglesschairs. They attacked the stage. It was a simple-minded stage. It wasraised above the floor, and it did have a movable curtain, painted withthe advertisement of a druggist dead these ten years, but otherwiseit might not have been recognized as a stage. There were twodressing-rooms, one for men, one for women, on either side. Thedressing-room doors were also the stage-entrances, opening from thehouse, and many a citizen of Gopher Prairie had for his first glimpse ofromance the bare shoulders of the leading woman.There were three sets of scenery: a woodland, a Poor Interior, and aRich Interior, the last also useful for railway stations, offices, andas a background for the Swedish Quartette from Chicago. There were threegradations of lighting: full on, half on, and entirely off.This was the only theater in Gopher Prairie. It was known as the "op'rahouse." Once, strolling companies had used it for performances of "TheTwo Orphans," and "Nellie the Beautiful Cloak Model," and "Othello" withspecialties between acts, but now the motion-pictures had ousted thegipsy drama.Carol intended to be furiously modern in constructing the office-set,the drawing-room for Mr. Grimm, and the Humble Home near Kankakee.It was the first time that any one in Gopher Prairie had been sorevolutionary as to use enclosed scenes with continuous side-walls. Therooms in the op'ra house sets had separate wing-pieces for sides, whichsimplified dramaturgy, as the villain could always get out of the hero'sway by walking out through the wall.The inhabitants of the Humble Home were supposed to be amiable andintelligent. Carol planned for them a simple set with warm color. Shecould see the beginning of the play: all dark save the high settles andthe solid wooden table between them, which were to be illuminated by aray from offstage. The high light was a polished copper pot filled withprimroses. Less clearly she sketched the Grimm drawing-room as a seriesof cool high white arches.As to how she was to produce these effects she had no notion.She discovered that, despite the enthusiastic young writers, thedrama was not half so native and close to the soil as motor cars andtelephones. She discovered that simple arts require sophisticatedtraining. She discovered that to produce one perfect stage-picture wouldbe as difficult as to turn all of Gopher Prairie into a Georgian garden.She read all she could find regarding staging, she bought paint andlight wood; she borrowed furniture and drapes unscrupulously; she madeKennicott turn carpenter. She collided with the problem of lighting.Against the protest of Kennicott and Vida she mortgaged the associationby sending to Minneapolis for a baby spotlight, a strip light, a dimmingdevice, and blue and amber bulbs; and with the gloating rapture ofa born painter first turned loose among colors, she spent absorbedevenings in grouping, dimming-painting with lights.Only Kennicott, Guy, and Vida helped her. They speculated as to howflats could be lashed together to form a wall; they hung crocus-yellowcurtains at the windows; they blacked the sheet-iron stove; they put onaprons and swept. The rest of the association dropped into the theaterevery evening, and were literary and superior. They had borrowedCarol's manuals of play-production and had become extremely stagey invocabulary.Juanita Haydock, Rita Simons, and Raymie Wutherspoon sat on a sawhorse,watching Carol try to get the right position for a picture on the wallin the first scene."I don't want to hand myself anything but I believe I'll give a swellperformance in this first act," confided Juanita. "I wish Carol wasn'tso bossy though. She doesn't understand clothes. I want to wear, oh,a dandy dress I have--all scarlet--and I said to her, 'When I enterwouldn't it knock their eyes out if I just stood there at the door inthis straight scarlet thing?' But she wouldn't let me."Young Rita agreed, "She's so much taken up with her old details andcarpentering and everything that she can't see the picture as a whole.Now I thought it would be lovely if we had an office-scene like the onein 'Little, But Oh My!' Because I SAW that, in Duluth. But she simplywouldn't listen at all."Juanita sighed, "I wanted to give one speech like Ethel Barrymore would,if she was in a play like this. (Harry and I heard her one time inMinneapolis--we had dandy seats, in the orchestra--I just know I couldimitate her.) Carol didn't pay any attention to my suggestion. I don'twant to criticize but I guess Ethel knows more about acting than Caroldoes!""Say, do you think Carol has the right dope about using a strip lightbehind the fireplace in the second act? I told her I thought we ought touse a bunch," offered Raymie. "And I suggested it would be lovely if weused a cyclorama outside the window in the first act, and what do youthink she said? 'Yes, and it would be lovely to have Eleanora Duse playthe lead,' she said, 'and aside from the fact that it's evening in thefirst act, you're a great technician,' she said. I must say I think shewas pretty sarcastic. I've been reading up, and I know I could build acyclorama, if she didn't want to run everything.""Yes, and another thing, I think the entrance in the first act ought tobe L. U. E., not L. 3 E.," from Juanita."And why does she just use plain white tormenters?""What's a tormenter?" blurted Rita Simons.The savants stared at her ignorance.IIICarol did not resent their criticisms, she didn't very much resenttheir sudden knowledge, so long as they let her make pictures. It was atrehearsals that the quarrrels broke. No one understood that rehearsalswere as real engagements as bridge-games or sociables at the EpiscopalChurch. They gaily came in half an hour late, or they vociferously camein ten minutes early, and they were so hurt that they whispered aboutresigning when Carol protested. They telephoned, "I don't think I'dbetter come out; afraid the dampness might start my toothache," or"Guess can't make it tonight; Dave wants me to sit in on a poker game."When, after a month of labor, as many as nine-elevenths of the cast wereoften present at a rehearsal; when most of them had learned their partsand some of them spoke like human beings, Carol had a new shock in therealization that Guy Pollock and herself were very bad actors, and thatRaymie Wutherspoon was a surprisingly good one. For all her visionsshe could not control her voice, and she was bored by the fiftiethrepetition of her few lines as maid. Guy pulled his soft mustache,looked self-conscious, and turned Mr. Grimm into a limp dummy. ButRaymie, as the villain, had no repressions. The tilt of his head wasfull of character; his drawl was admirably vicious.There was an evening when Carol hoped she was going to make a play; arehearsal during which Guy stopped looking abashed.From that evening the play declined.They were weary. "We know our parts well enough now; what's the use ofgetting sick of them?" they complained. They began to skylark; to playwith the sacred lights; to giggle when Carol was trying to make thesentimental Myrtle Cass into a humorous office-boy; to act everythingbut "The Girl from Kankakee." After loafing through his proper partDr. Terry Gould had great applause for his burlesque of "Hamlet." EvenRaymie lost his simple faith, and tried to show that he could do avaudeville shuffle.Carol turned on the company. "See here, I want this nonsense to stop.We've simply got to get down to work."Juanita Haydock led the mutiny: "Look here, Carol, don't be so bossy.After all, we're doing this play principally for the fun of it, and ifwe have fun out of a lot of monkey-shines, why then----""Ye-es," feebly."You said one time that folks in G. P. didn't get enough fun out oflife. And now we are having a circus, you want us to stop!"Carol answered slowly: "I wonder if I can explain what I mean? It's thedifference between looking at the comic page and looking at Manet. Iwant fun out of this, of course. Only----I don't think it would beless fun, but more, to produce as perfect a play as we can." She wascuriously exalted; her voice was strained; she stared not at the companybut at the grotesques scrawled on the backs of wing-pieces by forgottenstage-hands. "I wonder if you can understand the 'fun' of making abeautiful thing, the pride and satisfaction of it, and the holiness!"The company glanced doubtfully at one another. In Gopher Prairie itis not good form to be holy except at a church, between ten-thirty andtwelve on Sunday."But if we want to do it, we've got to work; we must haveself-discipline."They were at once amused and embarrassed. They did not want to affrontthis mad woman. They backed off and tried to rehearse. Carol did nothear Juanita, in front, protesting to Maud Dyer, "If she calls it funand holiness to sweat over her darned old play--well, I don't!"IVCarol attended the only professional play which came to Gopher Prairiethat spring. It was a "tent show, presenting snappy new dramas undercanvas." The hard-working actors doubled in brass, and took tickets;and between acts sang about the moon in June, and sold Dr. Wintergreen'sSurefire Tonic for Ills of the Heart, Lungs, Kidneys, and Bowels. Theypresented "Sunbonnet Nell: A Dramatic Comedy of the Ozarks," with J.Witherbee Boothby wringing the soul by his resonant "Yuh ain't doneright by mah little gal, Mr. City Man, but yer a-goin' to find that backin these-yere hills there's honest folks and good shots!"The audience, on planks beneath the patched tent, admired Mr. Boothby'sbeard and long rifle; stamped their feet in the dust at the spectacleof his heroism; shouted when the comedian aped the City Lady's use of alorgnon by looking through a doughnut stuck on a fork; wept visibly overMr. Boothby's Little Gal Nell, who was also Mr. Boothby's legal wifePearl, and when the curtain went down, listened respectfully to Mr.Boothby's lecture on Dr. Wintergreen's Tonic as a cure for tape-worms,which he illustrated by horrible pallid objects curled in bottles ofyellowing alcohol.Carol shook her head. "Juanita is right. I'm a fool. Holiness of thedrama! Bernard Shaw! The only trouble with 'The Girl from Kankakee' isthat it's too subtle for Gopher Prairie!"She sought faith in spacious banal phrases, taken from books: "theinstinctive nobility of simple souls," "need only the opportunity, toappreciate fine things," and "sturdy exponents of democracy." But theseoptimisms did not sound so loud as the laughter of the audience at thefunny-man's line, "Yes, by heckelum, I'm a smart fella." She wanted togive up the play, the dramatic association, the town. As she came outof the tent and walked with Kennicott down the dusty spring street, shepeered at this straggling wooden village and felt that she could notpossibly stay here through all of tomorrow.It was Miles Bjornstam who gave her strength--he and the fact that everyseat for "The Girl from Kankakee" had been sold.Bjornstam was "keeping company" with Bea. Every night he was sitting onthe back steps. Once when Carol appeared he grumbled, "Hope you're goingto give this burg one good show. If you don't, reckon nobody ever will."VIt was the great night; it was the night of the play. The twodressing-rooms were swirling with actors, panting, twitchy pale. DelSnafflin the barber, who was as much a professional as Ella, having oncegone on in a mob scene at a stock-company performance in Minneapolis,was making them up, and showing his scorn for amateurs with, "Standstill! For the love o' Mike, how do you expect me to get your eyelidsdark if you keep a-wigglin'?" The actors were beseeching, "Hey, Del, putsome red in my nostrils--you put some in Rita's--gee, you didn't hardlydo anything to my face."They were enormously theatric. They examined Del's makeup box, theysniffed the scent of grease-paint, every minute they ran out to peepthrough the hole in the curtain, they came back to inspect their wigsand costumes, they read on the whitewashed walls of the dressing-roomsthe pencil inscriptions: "The Flora Flanders Comedy Company," and "Thisis a bum theater," and felt that they were companions of these vanishedtroupers.Carol, smart in maid's uniform, coaxed the temporary stage-hands tofinish setting the first act, wailed at Kennicott, the electrician, "Nowfor heaven's sake remember the change in cue for the ambers in Act Two,"slipped out to ask Dave Dyer, the ticket-taker, if he could get somemore chairs, warned the frightened Myrtle Cass to be sure to upset thewaste-basket when John Grimm called, "Here you, Reddy."Del Snafflin's orchestra of piano, violin, and cornet began to tune upand every one behind the magic line of the proscenic arch was frightenedinto paralysis. Carol wavered to the hole in the curtain. There were somany people out there, staring so hard----In the second row she saw Miles Bjornstam, not with Bea but alone.He really wanted to see the play! It was a good omen. Who could tell?Perhaps this evening would convert Gopher Prairie to conscious beauty.She darted into the women's dressing-room, roused Maud Dyer from herfainting panic, pushed her to the wings, and ordered the curtain up.It rose doubtfully, it staggered and trembled, but it did get up withoutcatching--this time. Then she realized that Kennicott had forgotten toturn off the houselights. Some one out front was giggling.She galloped round to the left wing, herself pulled the switch, lookedso ferociously at Kennicott that he quaked, and fled back.Mrs. Dyer was creeping out on the half-darkened stage. The play wasbegun.And with that instant Carol realized that it was a bad play abominablyacted.Encouraging them with lying smiles, she watched her work go to pieces.The settings seemed flimsy, the lighting commonplace. She watchedGuy Pollock stammer and twist his mustache when he should have been abullying magnate; Vida Sherwin, as Grimm's timid wife, chatter at theaudience as though they were her class in high-school English; Juanita,in the leading role, defy Mr. Grimm as though she were repeating a listof things she had to buy at the grocery this morning; Ella Stowbodyremark "I'd like a cup of tea" as though she were reciting "Curfew ShallNot Ring Tonight"; and Dr. Gould, making love to Rita Simons, squeak,"My--my--you--are--a--won'erful--girl."Myrtle Cass, as the office-boy, was so much pleased by the applause ofher relatives, then so much agitated by the remarks of Cy Bogart, in theback row, in reference to her wearing trousers, that she could hardlybe got off the stage. Only Raymie was so unsociable as to devote himselfentirely to acting.That she was right in her opinion of the play Carol was certain whenMiles Bjornstam went out after the first act, and did not come back.VIBetween the second and third acts she called the company together,and supplicated, "I want to know something, before we have a chance toseparate. Whether we're doing well or badly tonight, it is a beginning.But will we take it as merely a beginning? How many of you will pledgeyourselves to start in with me, right away, tomorrow, and plan foranother play, to be given in September?"They stared at her; they nodded at Juanita's protest: "I thinkone's enough for a while. It's going elegant tonight, but anotherplay----Seems to me it'll be time enough to talk about that next fall.Carol! I hope you don't mean to hint and suggest we're not doing finetonight? I'm sure the applause shows the audience think it's justdandy!"Then Carol knew how completely she had failed.As the audience seeped out she heard B. J. Gougerling the banker say toHowland the grocer, "Well, I think the folks did splendid; just as goodas professionals. But I don't care much for these plays. What I like isa good movie, with auto accidents and hold-ups, and some git to it, andnot all this talky-talk."Then Carol knew how certain she was to fail again.She wearily did not blame them, company nor audience. Herself she blamedfor trying to carve intaglios in good wholesome jack-pine."It's the worst defeat of all. I'm beaten. By Main Street. 'I must goon.' But I can't!"She was not vastly encouraged by the Gopher Prairie Dauntless:. . . would be impossible to distinguish among the actors when all gavesuch fine account of themselves in difficult roles of this well-knownNew York stage play. Guy Pollock as the old millionaire could not havebeen bettered for his fine impersonation of the gruff old millionaire;Mrs. Harry Haydock as the young lady from the West who so easily showedthe New York four-flushers where they got off was a vision of lovelinessand with fine stage presence. Miss Vida Sherwin the ever popular teacherin our high school pleased as Mrs. Grimm, Dr. Gould was well suited inthe role of young lover--girls you better look out, remember the doc is abachelor. The local Four Hundred also report that he is a great hand atshaking the light fantastic tootsies in the dance. As the stenographerRita Simons was pretty as a picture, and Miss Ella Stowbody's long andintensive study of the drama and kindred arts in Eastern schools wasseen in the fine finish of her part.. . . to no one is greater credit to be given than to Mrs. Will Kennicotton whose capable shoulders fell the burden of directing."So kindly," Carol mused, "so well meant, so neighborly--and soconfoundedly untrue. Is it really my failure, or theirs?"She sought to be sensible; she elaborately explained to herself that itwas hysterical to condemn Gopher Prairie because it did not foam overthe drama. Its justification was in its service as a market-town forfarmers. How bravely and generously it did its work, forwarding thebread of the world, feeding and healing the farmers!Then, on the corner below her husband's office, she heard a farmerholding forth:"Sure. Course I was beaten. The shipper and the grocers here wouldn'tpay us a decent price for our potatoes, even though folks in the citieswere howling for 'em. So we says, well, we'll get a truck and ship 'emright down to Minneapolis. But the commission merchants there were incahoots with the local shipper here; they said they wouldn't pay usa cent more than he would, not even if they was nearer to the market.Well, we found we could get higher prices in Chicago, but when we triedto get freight cars to ship there, the railroads wouldn't let us have'em--even though they had cars standing empty right here in the yards.There you got it--good market, and these towns keeping us from it. Gus,that's the way these towns work all the time. They pay what they wantto for our wheat, but we pay what they want us to for their clothes.Stowbody and Dawson foreclose every mortgage they can, and put in tenantfarmers. The Dauntless lies to us about the Nonpartisan League, thelawyers sting us, the machinery-dealers hate to carry us over bad years,and then their daughters put on swell dresses and look at us as if wewere a bunch of hoboes. Man, I'd like to burn this town!"Kennicott observed, "There's that old crank Wes Brannigan shooting offhis mouth again. Gosh, but he loves to hear himself talk! They ought torun that fellow out of town!"VIIShe felt old and detached through high-school commencement week, whichis the fete of youth in Gopher Prairie; through baccalaureate sermon,senior Parade, junior entertainment, commencement address by an Iowaclergyman who asserted that he believed in the virtue of virtuousness,and the procession of Decoration Day, when the few Civil War veteransfollowed Champ Perry, in his rusty forage-cap, along the spring-powderedroad to the cemetery. She met Guy; she found that she had nothing tosay to him. Her head ached in an aimless way. When Kennicott rejoiced,"We'll have a great time this summer; move down to the lake early andwear old clothes and act natural," she smiled, but her smile creaked.In the prairie heat she trudged along unchanging ways, talked aboutnothing to tepid people, and reflected that she might never escape fromthem.She was startled to find that she was using the word "escape."Then, for three years which passed like one curt paragraph, she ceasedto find anything interesting save the Bjornstams and her baby.