Delphi Complete Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated)

by SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE

  TOM. Infamous!

  JANE A. It isn’t his hole yet! (Hypnotizes MISS SIMS.)

  BAB. She is hypnotized!

  ALL. Oh, wonderful!

  JANE A. Now, see what I shall make her do.

  SEXTET. — JANE ANNIE, MISS SIMS, BAB, PROCTOR, JACK, and TOM.

  JANE ANNIE. You’re now a sentimental maid,

  The little god caressing,

  Dear mistress, we can’t have it said

  We went without your blessing.

  JANE ANNIE, BAB, TOM, and JACK kneel, JANE ANNIE forcing JACK to

  do so.

  QUARTET. We’re kneeling, sentimental maid,

  A-waiting for your blessing.

  ALL. We hear with wonder what they’ve said,

  But will she give her blessing?

  MISS S. I’m now a sentimental thing,

  And hear with pride and joy,

  The news, which you two darlings bring,

  That each has found a boy.

  Elope, my dears? Why, certainly,

  ‘Tis every schoolgirl’s mission,

  And tell your parents you had my

  Approval and permission.

  ALL. Their conduct’s praised, we are amazed,

  Miss Sims doth sympathize.

  Now let us sing of this wonderful thing,

  With a hyp-hyp-hypnotize!

  PROCTOR rushes in from arbour with seat tied to him.

  PROCTOR. Stop! Though this Bab has used me ill —

  BAB. Oh, how I wish I’d shot him!

  PROCTOR. My triumph’s coming now —

  TOM. Stand still!

  STUDENTS get Kodaks ready.

  PROCTOR. Eh, what?

  TOM. All ready? (Click.) Got him.

  JANE ANNIE hypnotizes PROCTOR.

  JANE ANNIE. You’re now a somewhat soft old boy,

  Whate’er the consequences,

  Be yours the privilege and joy

  To pay all our expenses.

  QUARTET. We’re kneeling, somewhat soft old boy,

  Requesting our expenses.

  ALL. Now is he such a soft old boy

  That he’ll pay their expenses?

  PROCTOR. I’m now a very soft old boy, (Hear, hear.)

  Elopements are my passion,

  So with delight without alloy

  I’ll help you in this fashion.

  It’s sometimes said that gold’s a curse. (No, no!)

  And love the only candy,

  But, Tom, to you I give my purse —

  I think you’ll find it handy. (Cheers.)

  ALL. Tho’ love is honey, they’ve taken the money,

  And he doth sympathize;

  With this strange thing, his college will ring,

  With a hyp-hyp-hypnotize!

  Dance. TOM and BAB go in boat.

  JANE A. (to MISS SIMS). Now go and be a tea-pot. (To PROCTOR).

  And you are an escape of gas.

  JACK. I wish I was well out of this.

  JANE A. Come, Jack.

  JACK. I refuse.

  JANE A. (hypnotizes him). You are my lover!

  JACK. Darling! (He goes to boat.)

  JANE A. I took that whole in two!

  JANE ANNIE joins the others in boat. All wave handkerchiefs.

  PROCTOR. Hyp-hyp-hyp-

  CHORUS. -notize!

  MISS S. Another!

  CHORUS. Hyp-hyp-hypnotize!

  PROCTOR. One more!

  CHORUS. Hyp-hyp-hypnotize!

  JANE A. (from boat). Now, old things, wake up!

  Exit boat. MISS SIMS and PROCTOR wake up.

  BULLDOGS enter excitedly.

  MISS S. What is this?

  PROCTOR. Who is in that boat?

  MILLY. It’s Bab and Jane Annie going away to be married.

  MISS S. What?

  CADDIE (rushing on). I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it! Man

  and boy I’ve been here eighteen months, and I never

  thought to see such goings on as this. I gives a

  month’s warning from to-day.

  The carriage is seen crossing.

  MILLY. The carriage! There they go!

  FINALE.

  MILLY. The moral of this story is —

  GIRLS. You mustn’t do this, you mustn’t do this;

  MILLY. Or to express it still more pat —

  GIRLS. You mustn’t do that, you mustn’t do that.

  MISS SIMS. You’ve learned it now without a hitch —

  MEN. We mustn’t do what, we mustn’t do which?

  MISS SIMS. Well, you have learned it, have you not?

  MEN. We mustn’t do which, we mustn’t do what?

  PROCTOR. The moral I will now explain,

  Just wait while I expound it;

  It teaches that we ne’er again

  Should try to — oh, confound it!

  I very much want to tell you all —

  You’d like to hear about it —

  But just this point I can’t recall,

  So, though it’s most material,

  You’d best go home without it.

  ALL. You’d best go home without it.

  The Plays

  WATERLOO

  This play was a great success for the famous actor Henry Irving and was first produced at The Prince’s Theatre, Bristol, on September 21st, 1894.

  Sir Henry Irving (1838–1905)

  DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.

  The following cast performed later at the Lyceum Theatre, London, on May 4th, 1895.

  CORPORAL GREGORY BREWSTER (aged 76) “ The Straggler” Mr. Henry Irving.

  SERGEANT ARCHIE MCDONALD, R.A.. Mr. Fuller Mellish.

  COLONEL JAMES MIDWINTER, Royal Scots Guards Mr. Haviland.

  NORAH BREWSTER, the Corporal’s grandniece Miss Annie Hughes.

  Scene plot

  WATERLOO.

  SCENE. — A front room in a small house in Woolwich. Cooking range at fire. Above the fire a rude painting of an impossible military man in a red coat with a bearskin. On one side a cutting from a newspaper framed. On the other a medal, also within a frame. Bright fire-irons, centre table, Bible on small table in window, wooden armchair with cushion, rack holding plates, etc.

  June, 1881.

  (Curtain rising discovers the empty room; door opens, and enter NORAH BREWSTER, a country girl, with a bundle of her effects. She looks timidly about her, and then closes the door.

  Basket on bandbox. During dialogue takes hat and cloak off and puts them on sideboard L., takes apron out of basket, chair R. of door, and puts it on).

  NORAH. And this is Uncle Gregory’s (crosses to fireplace). Why there’s his portrait just above the fireplace, the very same as we have it at home — and there is his medal by his portrait. Oh, how strange that I should have a house all to myself. Why it’s next door to being married. I suppose uncle isn’t up yet, they said that he was never up before ten. Well thank goodness that housekeeper has lit the fire before she went away. She seems to have been a nice sort of a party, she does. Poor old uncle ! he does seem to have been neglected. Never mind ! I’ve come to look after him now. Let me see if everything is ready for uncle when he does come. Won’t he be surprised to see me. Of course he would have had mother’s letter to say I was coming, but he wouldn’t think I’d be here so early. (At table R. C.) I wonder what makes the milk look so blue. (At drawer at back R. c.) Oh my! what nasty butter. I’m so glad I brought some other butter with me. ( Takes pat of butter off plate puts it in basket, Takes pat out of basket, and puts it on plate). Now for the bacon. Oh, what a cruel piece ! Why, our Essex pigs would blush to own bacon like that ! (Puts rasher in frying-pan and puts pan on hob.) Now I’ll make the tea if the kettle boils. Kettle doesn’t boil. Never mind, I’ll warm the pot. (Puts water out of kettle on fire in pot and pot on table). Dear old uncle (looking at portrait), don’t he look grand ! They must have been awful brave folk to dare to fight against him. I do hope I’ll be able to make him happy. (Knock down in flat, L. a). Oh, dear
! A knock ! I wonder who it is! (Knock again). I suppose I must see who it is. (Up to door in flat R. c. opens it).

  (Enter SERGEANT MCDONALD.)

  SERGEANT. (saluting). Beg your pardon, Miss, but does Corporal Gregory Brewster live here ?

  NORAH. (timidly). Yes, sir.

  SERGEANT. The same who was in the Scots Guards ?

  NORAH. Yes, sir.

  SERGEANT. And fought in the battle of Waterloo ?

  NORAH. Yes, the same, sir.

  SERGEANT. Could I have a word with him, Miss ?

  NORAH. He’s not down yet.

  SERGEANT. Ah, then, maybe I’d best look in on my way back. I’m going down to the butts, and will pass again in an hour or two.

  NORAH. Very well, sir. (Going out). Who shall I say came for him ? (SERGEANT returns and places carbine L. of sideboard L.)

  SERGEANT. McDonald’s my name — Sergeant McDonald of the Artillery. But you’ll excuse my mentioning it, Miss : there was some talk down at the Gunners’ barracks that the old gentleman was not looked after quite as well as he might be. But I can see now that it’s only foolish talk, for what more could he want than this ?

  NORAH. Oh, I’ve only just come. We heard that his housekeeper was not very good to him, and that was why my father wished me to go. and do what I could.

  SERGEANT. Ah ! he’ll find the difference now.

  NORAH (bustling about putting tea in pot). Two for uncle and one for the pot. We were all very proud of Uncle Gregory down Leyton way. (Takes teapot to fire and fills it from kettle).

  SERGEANT. Aye, he’s been a fine man in his day. There’s not many living now who can say that they fought against Napoleon Boneypart.

  NORAH. Ah, see, there’s his medal hung up by his portrait.

  SERGEANT (after her). But what’s that beside the medal.

  NORAH (standing on tiptoe, and craning her neck). Oh, it is a piece of print, and all about uncle. (Brings frame).

  SERGEANT. Aye, its a slip of an old paper. There’s the date, August, 1815, writ in yellow ink on the corner.

  NORAH (takes down medal). It’s such small print.

  SERGEANT (front of table). I’ll read it to you.

  NORAH. Thank ye, sir !

  SERGEANT (clears his throat impressively). “ A heroic deed.” That’s what’s on the top. “ On Tues day an interesting ceremony was performed at the bar racks of the third regiment of guards, when in the presence of the Prince Regent, a special medal was presented to Corporal Gregory Brewster

  NORAH (R. of SERGEANT.) That’s him ! That’s uncle !

  SERGEANT. “TO Corporal Gregory Brewster of Captain Haldane’s flank company, in recog — recognition of his valor in the recent great battle. It appears that on the ever memorable 18th of June, four companies of the third Guards and of the Coldstreams, held the important farmhouse of Hugymount at the right of the British position. At a critical period of the action these troops found themselves short of powder, and Corporal Brewster was dispatched to the rear to hasten up the reserve am — ammunition. The corporal returned with two tumbrils of the Nassau division, but he found that in his absence the how — howitzer fire of the French had ignited the hedge around the farm, and that the passage of the carts filled with powder had become almost an impossibility. The first tumbril exploded, blowing the driver to pieces, and his comrade, daunted by the sight, turned his horses ; but Corporal Brewster, springing into his seat, hurled the man down, and urging the cart through the flames, succeeded in rejoining his comrades. Long may the heroic Brewster

  NORAH. Think of that, the heroic Brewster !

  SERG. “ Live to treasure the medal which he has so bravely won, and to look back with pride to the day when, in the presence of his comrades, he received this tribute to his valor from the hands of the first gentleman of the realm.” (Replaces the paper.) Well, that is worth being proud of. (Hands back frame, she puts it on mantel).

  NORAH. And we are proud of it, too.

  SERG. Well, Miss, I’m due at the butts, or I would (taking carbine) stay to see the old gentleman now. (Up to door.)

  NORAH (following). I don’t think he can be long.

  SERG. Well, he’ll have turned out before I pass this way again, good day, Miss, and my respects to you, Miss.

  (Exit SERGEANT MCDONALD, door in flat L. C.)

  NORAH. (looking through door after him). Oh, isn’t he a fine man ! I never saw such a man as that down Leyton way. And how kind he was! Think of him reading all that to me about uncle I (Coming L.) It was as much as to say that uncle won that battle. Well, I think the tea is made (over to fire) now, and —

  CORPORAL (without entering). Mary, Mary, — I wants my rations.

  NORAH (aside). Lord, ‘a mercy!

  (Enter CORPORAL GREGORY BREWSTER, tottering in, gaunt, bent, and doddering, with white hair and wizened face. He taps his way across the room, while NORAH, with her hands clasped, stares aghast first at the man, and then at his picture on the wall.)

  CORPORAL (querulously). I wants my rations ! The cold nips me without ‘em. See to my hands. (Holds out his gnarled knuckles).

  NORAH (gets round behind table). Don’t you know me, grand-uncle ? I’m Norah Brewster, from down Essex way.

  CORPORAL. Rum is warm, and schnapps is warm, and there’s ‘eat in soup, but gimme a dish of tea for chice. Eh? (Peers at the girl) What did you say your name was, young woman ? (Sits R. of table.)

  NORAH (L. of table). Norah Brewster.

  CORPORAL. You can speak out, lass. Seems to me folks’ voices ain’t as strong as they was.

  NORAH (back of chair). I’m Norah Brewster, uncle. I’m your (takes up bacon) grand-niece, come from Essex way to live with you. (Takes bacon out of pan on fire, puts on plate).

  CORPORAL (chuckling). You’re Norah, hey ? Then you’ll be brother Jarge’s gal, likely ? Lor, to think o’ little Jarge havin’ a gal !

  NORAH (putting bacon on table). Nay, uncle. My father was the son of your brother George. (Pouring out tea).

  CORPORAL (mumbles and chuckles, picking at his sleeves with his trembling hands). Lor, but little Jarge was a rare un ! (Draws up to the table while NORAH pours out the tea). Eh, by Jimini, there was no chousing Jarge ! He’s got a bull-pup o’ mine that I lent him when I took the shillin’. Likely it’s dead now. He didn’t give it ye to bring, may-be ?

  NORAH (R. of table, and glancing ever wonderingly at her companion). Why, grandpa Jarge has been dead this twenty years.

  CORPORAL (mumbling). Eh, but it were a bootiful pup — bootiful! (Drinks his tea with a loud supping, NORAH pours out second cup), I am cold for the lack o’ my rations. Rum is good and schnapps, but I’d as leaf have a dish o’ tea as either.

  NORAH. I’ve brought you some butter and some eggs in the basket. Mother said as I was to give you her respec’s and love, and that she’d ha’ sent a tin o’ cream, but it might ha’ turned on the way. (R. Sets chair L. of fireplace,)

  CORPORAL (still eating voraciously). Eh, it’s a middlin’ goodish way. Likely the stage left yesterday.

  NORAH. The what, uncle ?

  CORPORAL. The coach that brought ye.

  NORAH. Nay, I came by the mornin’ train.

  CORPORAL. Lor’ now, think o’ that. The railway train, heh ? You ain’t afeard o’ them new-fangled things ! By Jimini! to think of your comin’ by railway like that. Why, it’s more than twenty mile. (Chuckling), What’s the world a comin’ to ? (Puffs out his chest and tries to square his shoulders). Eh, but I get a power o’ good from my rations I

  NORAH. Indeed, uncle, you seem a deal stronger for them. (Up to table and begins to clear things away,)

  CORPORAL. Aye, the food is like coals to that fire. But I’m nigh burned out, lass, I’m nigh burned out.

  NORAH (clearing the table). You must ha’seen a deal o’ life, uncle. It must seem a long long time to you.

  CORPORAL. Not so very long, neither. I’m going on to ninety, but it might ha’ been yesterday that I took the bounty. And that battle,w
hy, by Jimini, I’ve not got the smell of the burned powder out o’ my nose yet. Have you read that? (Nodding to the cutting).

  NORAH. Yes, uncle, and I’m sure that you must be very proud of it.

  CORPORAL (stands looking at him). Ah, it was a great day for me — a great day ! The Regent he was there, and a fine body of a man too. (Tries to stuff some tobacco into his pipe). He up to me and he says, “ The ridgement is proud of ye,” says he. “And I’m proud o’ the ridgement,” says I. “ And a damned good answer, too,” says he to Lord Hill, and they both bust out a laughin’. (Coughs and chuckles, and points up at the mantelpiece).