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?