Jones. We won’t resign.
Fish. Well, then it’s only right to tell you that Judge Fossile of the Supreme Court will bring a motion of impeachment at three o’clock this afternoon.
He turns melancholy eyes on Doris’s window. He kisses his hand toward it in a tragic gesture of farewell. Then he goes out.
Jerry looks at Mr. Jones as though demanding encouragement.
Jerry. They don’t know the man they’re up against, do they, Mr. Jones?
Jones. They certainly do not.
Jerry [lying desperately and not even convincing himself]. I’ve got resources they don’t know about.
Jones. If you’ll pardon a suggestion, I think the best move you could make, Mr. President, would be to demand your father’s resignation immediately.
Jerry [incredulously]. Put Dada out? Why, he used to work in a bank when he was young, and he knows all about the different amounts of money.
A pause.
Jerry [uncertainly]. Do you think I’m the worst President they ever had?
Jones [considering]. Well, no, there was that one they impeached.
Jerry [consoling himself]. And then there was that other fellow — I forget his name. He was terrible. [Another disconsolate pause.] I suppose I might as well go down and get a cigar.
Jones. There’s just one more man out here to see you and he says he came to do you a favor. His name is — the Honorable Snooks, or Snukes, Ambassador from Irish Poland.
Jerry. What country’s that?
Jones. Irish Poland’s one of the new European countries. They took a sort of job lot of territories that nobody could use and made a country out of them. It’s got three or four acres of Russia and a couple of mines in Austria and a few lots in Bulgaria and Turkey.
Jerry. Show them all out here.
Jones. There’s only one. [He goes into the White House, returning immediately.]
Jones. The Honorable Snooks, or Snukes, Ambassador to the United States from Irish Poland.
The Honorable Snooks comes out through the swinging doors. His resemblance to Mr. Snooks, the bootlegger, is, to say the least, astounding. But his clothes — they are the clothes of the Corps Diplomatique. Red stockings enclose his calves, fading at the knee into black satin breeches. His coat, I regret to say, is faintly reminiscent of the Order of Mystic Shriners, but a broad red ribbon slanting diagonally across his diaphragm gives the upper part of his body a svelte, cosmopolitan air. At his side is slung an unusually long and cumbersome sword.
He comes in slowly, I might even say cynically, and after a brief nod at Jerry, surveys his surroundings with an appraising eye.
Jones goes to the table and begins writing.
Snooks. Got a nice house, ain’t you?
Jerry [still depressed from recent reverses]. Yeah.
Snooks. Wite, hey?
Jerry [as if he had just noticed it]. Yeah, white.
Snooks [after a pause]. Get dirty quick.
Jerry [adopting an equally laconic manner]. Have it washed.
Snooks. How’s your old woman?
Jerry [uneasily]. She’s all right. Have a cigar?
Snooks [taking the proffered cigar]. Thanks.
Jerry. That’s all right. I got a lot of them.
Snooks. That’s some cigar.
Jerry. I got a lot of them. I don’t smoke that kind myself, but I got a lot of them.
Snooks. That’s swell.
Jerry [becoming boastful]. See that tree? [The white tree.] Look, that’s a special tree. You never saw a tree like that before. Nobody’s got one but me. That tree was given to me by some natives.
Snooks. That’s swell.
Jerry. See this cane? The band around it’s solid gold.
Snooks. Is that right? I thought maybe it was to keep the squirrels from crawling up. [Abruptly.] Need any liquor? I get a lot, you know, on account of bein’ an ambassador. Gin, vermuth, bitters, absinthe?
Jerry. No, I don’t… See that sign? I bet you never saw one like that before. I had it invented.
Snooks [bored]. Class. [Switching the subject.] I hear you made your old man Secretary of the Treasury.
Jerry. My father used to work in a — —
Snooks. You’d ought to made him official Sandy Claus… How you gettin’ away with your job?
Jerry [lying]. Oh, fine — fine! You ought to see the military review they had for me last week. Thousands and thousands of soldiers, and everybody cheered when they saw me. [Heartily.] It was sort of inspiring.
Snooks. I seen you plantin’ trees in the movies.
Jerry [excitedly]. Sure. I do that almost every day. That’s nothing to some of the things I have to do. But the thing is, I’m not a bit stuck up about any of it. See that gate?
Snooks. Yeah.
Jerry [now completely and childishly happy]. I had it made that way so that anybody passing by along the street can look in. Cheer them up, see? Sometimes I come out here and sit around just so if anybody passes by — well, there I am.
Snooks [sarcastically]. You ought to have yourself covered with radium so they can see you in the dark. [He changes his tone now and comes down to business.] Say, you’re lucky I found you in this morning. Got the time with you?
Jerry pulls out his watch. Snooks takes it as though to inspect it more closely.
Look here now, Mr. President. I got a swell scheme for you.
Jerry [trying to look keen]. Let’s hear it.
Snooks. You needn’t got to think now, just ‘cause I’m a hunerd per cent Irish Pole, that I ain’t goin’ to do the other guy a favor once in a while. An’ I got somep’m smooth for you. [He puts Jerry’s watch in his own pocket — the nerve of the man!]
Jerry. What is it?
Snooks [confidentially]. Islands.
Jerry. What islands?
Snooks. The BuzzardIslands.
Jerry looks blank.
Ain’t you neva hearda the BuzzardIslands?
Jerry [apologetically]. I never was any good at geography. I used to be pretty good in penmanship.
Snooks [in horror]. You ain’t neva hearda the BuzzardIslands?
Jerry. It’s sort of a disagreeable name.
Snooks. The BuzzardIslands. Property of the country of Irish Poland. Garden spots. Flowery paradises ina middle of the Atlantic. Rainbow Islandsa milk an’ honey, palms an’ pines, smellin’ with good-smellin’ woods and high-priced spices. Fulla animals with million buck skins and with birds that’s got feathers that the hat dives on Fifth Avenue would go nuts about. The folks in ee islands — swell-lookin’, husky, square, rich, one hunerd per cent Buzzardites.
Jerry [startled]. You mean Buzzards?
Snooks. One hunerd per cent Buzzardites, crazy about their island, butter, milk, live stock, wives, and industries.
Jerry [fascinated]. Sounds sort of pretty, don’t it?
Snooks. Pretty? Say, it’s smooth! Now here’s my proposition, an’ take it from me, it’s the real stuff. [Impressively.] The country of Irish Poland wants to sell you the Buzzard Islands — cheap.
Jerry [impressed]. You’re willing to sell ‘em, eh?
Snooks. Listen. I’ll be fair with you. [I regret to say that at this point he leans close to Jerry, removes the latter’s stick pin and places it in his own tie.] I’ve handed you the swellest proposition ever laid before a President since Andrew Jackson bought the population of Ireland from Great Britain.
Jerry. Yeah?
Snooks [intently]. Take it from me, Pres, and snap it up — dead cheap.
Jerry. You’re sure it’s a good — —
Snooks [indignantly]. Say, do you think an ambassador would tell you something that ain’t true?
Jerry [“man to man”]. That’s right, Mr. Snooks. I beg your pardon for that remark.
Snooks [touching his handkerchief to his eyes]. You hurt me, Pres, you hurt me, but I forgive you.
They shake hands warmly.
And now Jerry has an idea — a gorgeous idea. Why didn’t he thin
k of it before? His voice literally trembles as he lays his plan before Snooks.
Jerry. Honorable Snooks, listen. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll — I’ll take those Islands and pay — oh, say a round million dollars for them, on one condition.
Snooks [quickly]. Done. Name your condition.
Jerry [breathlessly]. That you’ll let me throw in one of the States on the trade.
Snooks. What State?
Jerry. The State of Idaho.
Snooks. How much do you want for it?
Jerry [hastily]. Oh, I’ll just throw that in free.
Snooks indicates Mr. Jones with his thumb.
Snooks. Get him to take it down.
Jones takes pen in hand. During the ensuing conversation he writes busily.
Jerry [anxiously]. The State of Idaho is just a gift, see? But you got to take it.
Suddenly the Honorable Snooks realizes how the land lies. He looks narrowly at Jerry, marvelling at an opportunity so ready to his hand.
Jerry [to Jones]. Here, get this down. We agree to buy the BuzzardIslands from the nation of Irish Poland for one million — —
Snooks [interrupting]. Two million.
Jerry. Two million dollars, on condition that Irish Poland will also incorporate into their nation the State of Idaho, with all its people. Be sure and get that, Jones. With all its people.
Jones. I have it. The State of Idaho and four hundred and thirty-one thousand, eight hundred and sixty-six people. Including colored?
Jerry. Yes, including colored.
Snooks [craftily]. Just a minute, Pres. This here State of Idaho is mostly mountains, ain’t it?
Jerry [anxiously]. I don’t know. Is it, Mr. Jones?
Jones. It has quite a few mountains.
Snooks [hesitating]. Well, now, I don’t know if we better do it after all — —
Jerry [quickly]. Three millions.
Snooks. I’ll tell you, I’d like to pull it off for you, Pres, but you see a State like that has gotta have upkeep. You take one of them mountains, for instance. You can’t just let a mountain alone like you would a — a ocean. You got to — to groom it. You got to — to chop it down. You got to explore it. Now take that alone — you got to explore it.
Jerry [swallowing]. Four millions.
Snooks. That’s more like it. Now these BuzzardIslands don’t require no attention. You just have to let ‘em alone. But you take the up-keep on a thing like the State of Idaho.
Jerry [wiping his brow]. Five millions.
Snooks. Sold! You get the BuzzardIslands and we get five million bucks and the State of Idaho.
Jerry. Got that down, Jones?
Snooks. On second thoughts — —
Jerry [in a panic]. No, no, you can’t get out of it. It’s all down in black and white.
Snooks [resignedly]. Awright. I must say, Mr. President, you turned out to be a real man. When I first met you I wouldn’t have thought it, but I been pleasantly surprised.
He slaps Jerry heartily on the back. Jerry is so tickled at the solution of the Idaho problem that he feverishly seizes Snooks’s hand.
Snooks. And even if Irish Poland gets stung on the deal, we’ll put it through. Say, you and me ain’t politicians, fella, we’re statesmen, real statesmen. You ain’t got a cigarette about you, have you?
Jerry hands him his cigarette case. Snooks, after taking one, returns the case to his own pocket.
Jerry [enthusiastically]. Send me a post-card, Ambassador Snooks. The White House, City, will reach me.
Snooks. Post-card! Say, lay off. You and me are pals. I’d do anything for a pal. Come on down to the corner and I’ll buy you a cigar.
Jerry [to Mr. Jones]. I guess I can go out now for a while.
Jones. Oh, yes.
Jerry. Hang on to that treaty. And, say, when the Secretary of the Treasury wakes up tell him I’ve got to have five million dollars right away.
Jones. If you’ll just come into the office for a moment you can put your signatures on it right away.
Jerry and the Honorable Snooks go into the White House arm in arm, followed by Mr. Jones. Presently Jerry can be seen in the window of the President’s office.
A moment later the doors swing open again, this time for the tottering egress of Dada.
Dada, not without difficulty, arranges himself a place in the sun. He is preparing for his morning siesta, and, indeed, has almost managed to spread a handkerchief over his face when in through the gate comes Doris. Her eye falls on him and a stern purpose is born. Dada, seeing her approach, groans in anticipation.
Doris. Dada, I want to speak to you.
Dada blinks up at her, wearily.
Dada, I want to tell you something for your own good and for Jerry’s good. You want Jerry to keep his position, don’t you?
Dada. Jerry’s a fine boy. He was born to my second wife in eighteen hundred and — —
Doris[interrupting impatiently]. Yes, I know he was. But I mean now.
Dada. No, I’ll never have any more children. Children are hard to raise properly.
This is aimed at her.
Doris. Look at here, Dada. What I think is the best thing to do is to resign your position.
Dada. The — — ?
Doris. You’re too old, you see, if you know what I mean. You’re sort of — oh, not crazy, but just sort of feeble-minded.
Dada [who has caught one word]. Yes, I’m a little feeble. [He dozes off.]
Doris[absorbed in her thesis]. I don’t mean you’re crazy. Don’t get mad. I don’t mean you go around thinking you’re like Napoleon or a poached egg or anything like that, but you’re sort of feeble-minded. Don’t you understand, yourself? Sort of simple.
Dada [waking up suddenly]. How’s that?
Doris[infuriated]. That’s just the sort of thing I was talking about! Going to sleep like that when a person’s trying to tell you something for your own son’s good. That’s just exactly what I mean!
Dada [puzzled but resentful]. I don’t like you. You’re a very forward young girl. Your parents brought you up very unsuccessfully indeed.
Doris[smugly]. All right. You’re just making me think so more than ever. Go right ahead. Don’t mind me. Go right ahead. Then when you begin to really rave I’ll send for the lunatic-asylum wagon.
Dada [with an air of cold formality]. I’ll ask you to excuse me. [He wants to get to sleep]
Doris. First thing you know you’ll take all the money in the Treasury and hide it and forget where you put it.
Dada [succinctly]. There isn’t any money in the Treasury.
Doris[after a stunned pause]. Just what do you mean by that statement?
Dada [drowsily]. There isn’t any money in the Treasury. There was seven thousand dollars left yesterday, but I worked from morning till night and now there isn’t one red penny in there.
Doris. You must be crazy.
Dada. [He can scarcely keep awake] Hm.
Doris. Look at here! What do you mean — have you been spending that money — that doesn’t belong to you, you know — on some fast woman?
Dada [as usual, he doesn’t quite hear]. Yes, it’s all gone. I went down yesterday morning and I said to myself: “Horatio, you got only seven thousand dollars left, and you got to work from morning till night and get rid of it.” And I did.
Doris[furious, but impressed at the magnitude of the crime]. How much was there altogether?
Dada. Altogether? I haven’t the figures with me.
Doris. Why, you old dumb-bell, you. Imagine an old man your age that hasn’t had anything to do for twenty years but just sit around and think, going crazy about a woman at your age! [With scornful pity.] Don’t you know she just made a fool of you?
Dada [shaking his finger at her]. You must not talk like that. Be courteous and — —
Doris. Yes, and pretty soon some woman comes along and you get “courteous” with her to the extent of all the money in the Treasury.
Dada. Yes, that’s one
thing that stood me in good stead. My mother used to say to me: “Horatio — — “
Doris[paying no attention to him]. What was her name?
Complete Works of F. Scott Fitzgerald UK (Illustrated) Page 383
