The Pot Boiler: A Comedy in Four ActsSinclair, Upton
General
The Pot Boiler: A Comedy in Four Acts
Sinclair, Upton
Comedy plays
_Belle._ Where shall we go? To Hoboken?
_Jack._ Stop laughing at me. We're going to Florida. _(Draws up
chair to table and spreads out R. R. folders and time-tables.)_
_Belle._ Where do you get those?
_Jack._ At the ticket-office. They give them away.
_Belle._ With those lovely pictures! How nice of them!
_Jack._ Yes--isn't it! Now--here's the Atlantic Coast line. We leave
New York at noon----
_Belle._ But it's night now, Jack.
_Jack._ I know--but we've already started.
_Belle (studying folder)._ This train leaves New York three times.
_Jack._ That's the different ferries. Let's see. At 10 p. m. we've
just got to Richmond. We reach Palm Beach at eleven in the
evening----
_Belle._ What? A whole day on the train?
_Jack._ A day and a half, altogether.
_Belle._ Oh, Jack! What did you have to pay for the tickets.
_Jack._ I tell you, Belle, you must never worry about expense when
you're travelling. It spoils all the pleasure. Now, let's see. We go
to the Royal Palm Hotel. Here's a picture of it.
_Belle._ Oh, Jack! What a heavenly place!
_Jack._ Of course, they color it up rather bright in these
advertisements.
_Belle._ Won't they charge us frightfully?
_Jack._ No, no. You can stay there for ten dollars a day.
_Belle._ Ten dollars a day! Jack, you don't mean that?
_Jack._ We can't expect to keep our expenses under that.
_Belle._ But that'll be thirty dollars, Jack! You know we've got
Dolly with us. We can't travel alone.
_Jack._ No, no--to be sure.
_Belle._ Do people really spend money like that, Jack?
_Jack._ You get a lot for it, Belle. It's the loveliest place in the
world. There are palm trees and flowers all the year round. It never
snows, and it's seldom cold. There's a broad, white beach, and you
lie and watch the green ocean, and the long white breakers rolling
in, and the lines of pelicans flying just above them. And, oh, the
nights! You'd think you could stretch out your hands and gather in
armfuls of the stars!
_Belle._ Jack! How perfectly lovely! _(Stares before her; a silence.
Suddenly she buries her face in her arms on the table.)_
_Jack._ Why Belle! What's the matter?
_Belle._ Oh, Jack! Jack!
_Jack (in distress)._ What is it?
_Belle._ I don't think I like playing this game. I can't stand it
any more!
_Jack._ Why not?
_Belle._ It's better you don't ask me, Jack.
_Jack._ But I want to know!
_Belle._ You have so many worries of your own.
_Jack (gazes at her thoughtfully; then puts his hand upon hers)._
Belle, are you really as sick as all that?
_Belle._ I don't want to tell you, Jack.
_Jack._ Don't you think it's just that you're discouraged about your
health?
_Belle._ I don't know. I try to persuade myself----
_Jack._ You must really not give up. You must believe me when I tell
you that you are going to get well.
_Belle._ Jack, you're the best friend a girl ever had; but your
saying so won't make me get well.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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