JIM’S BEAST[B]
Two arched passageways are in back, and between them, on the wall, is a large dark plaster cast which may be a replica of the famous Dinosaur footprints in Brownstone. Beneath this is a low bench. At the extreme right, as one enters from back, there are two cases, just visible, in which are fossil bones and casts. There is a bench near them and an aisle between which leads off to the windows beyond, suggested by the soft streams of sunlight which shoot over the tops of the cases to the BRONTOSAURUS opposite. Only the dull-colored flat skull and a portion of the neck of this venerable fossil are to be seen, projecting about a yard or two. It stands seven feet above its low platform, which is surrounded by a railing. On this is a slanted sign which describes it. Its size, its grimness and the light which rests upon it make it dominate everything. The remainder of the huge dinosaur is masked by a high screen at its left, upon which hangs a map indicating by its varied horizontal shades of color, the various geological strata and periods.
When the curtain slowly lifts, SARAH, a scrubwoman, is on her knees, mopping the floor with long practised sweeps.
She is fifty, heavy, with a dull tired face lined by years of physical toil. Though her hair is tightly drawn back and tied in a knot, several long wisps fall across her eyes as she leans forward over her work; and she continually pushes these back with her arm, since her hands are wet and soapy.
As she wrings her rag savagely she mumbles to herself in a rich Irish brogue.
SARAH
Scrub. Mop. Scrub. (She looks up at the BRONTOSAURUS.) Keepin’ watch on me, too, ye dirty heathen. Grinnin’ there every day at me a-scrubbin’ and moppin’.
(She raises the rag, in momentary revolt, as though she were about to throw it at the skull. But she stops sullenly as she mechanically resumes her work.)
Ye dirty heathen ... me a-scrubbin’.…
(As she finds a hairpin and sticks it in her hair, PROF. POHL enters, carrying a small plaster cast in which is embedded the outlines of a fossil.
PROF. POHL, the curator, is a short, round-shouldered man nearing sixty. He is absorbed in his scientific interest, devoid of conscious humor and fundamentally inclined to be impatient with anything that has not been dead for at least several million years.)
PROFESSOR
Good afternoon, Sarah.
SARAH
(Mumbling half to herself resentfully, as he walks over where she has just mopped)
And I was just after a-moppin’ up that place.
PROFESSOR
You’re cleaning up earlier than usual.
SARAH
Wipe ’em up as they comes, says I: it’s easier in the end.
PROFESSOR
But I’m expecting over two hundred soldiers here this afternoon.
SARAH
(Astonished)
Here? What’s the matter with ’em?
PROFESSOR
They’re slightly wounded.
SARAH
Shure: that explains it.
PROFESSOR
All the theaters are entertaining them so I’ve invited them here. I thought the soldiers might enjoy having me personally show them through the paleontological section. Dr. Taylor has volunteered to explain the mummies.
SARAH
What between these dead ’uns and them ould ladies the boys’ll be havin’ a foine time, all roight.
PROFESSOR
I thought it might be edifying, too.
SARAH
(As she resumes her mopping)
They’ll be a-makin’ more work for me; but footprints is footprints no matter who makes ’em.
PROFESSOR
(Looking in case at the right)
Now where’s that card?
(He tries to get key out of pocket to open case but he is afraid of breaking the cast.)
Sarah, will you assist me?
SARAH
Me! Touch one of them dead corpses?
PROFESSOR
No; no. That’s so; you’d get them wet.
(She watches him as he goes to bench and lays the cast down carefully on the handkerchief he has spread for it. Then he goes over to case, opens it with a key, returns for cast and puts it with care and affection in the case.)
SARAH
Ye’d be a-thinkin’ it was a baby ye was puttin’ to bed.
PROFESSOR
(Admiring them)
All these are my children, Sarah.
SARAH
(Mumbling as she looks up at the BRONTOSAURUS)
I’d see a doctor about it if I was their mother.
PROFESSOR
There. (He closes the case.) That’s a very rare Pterodactyl. (She is somehow not impressed.) I’ve reconstructed it from five tiny bones found in Oregon.
SARAH
(Wringing mop with a contemptuous look at him)
Why go to all that trouble?
PROFESSOR
I’m afraid you wouldn’t understand. I study fossils, Sarah, because it is my profession—just as scrubbing is yours.
SARAH
Do ye have to do it?
PROFESSOR
No; I chose it. I’m very happy in it.
SARAH
What I’d loike to know is why I’ve got to scrub and mop all the day? I don’t do it for pleasure.
PROFESSOR
(Failing to see the human analogy)
Somebody’s got to keep the Museum clean.
SARAH
(Seeing him blow off some clay from bench)
Yes. Some o’ us is born to wipe up other people’s dirt, and some’s born to make it. (Wiping it.) Why can’t everybody clean up his own dirt, says I? Maybe they wouldn’t be makin’ so much.
PROFESSOR
I daresay you’re right. (Over by the BRONTOSAURUS.) You’ve forgotten to run your rag over this platform.
SARAH
(Rebelliously)
Ye don’t git me inside th’ rail with that dirty heathen.
PROFESSOR
The superintendent tells me he’s had to remind you every day.
SARAH
(Her revolt rises)
If I’ve got to go inside there alone ye can tell ’im I’m through. There’s plenty of dirty places in the world what needs cleanin’ and if I’ve got to mop I’m going to do me own pickin’ of dirt an’ places.
PROFESSOR
(Firmly)
But you forget you’re paid for this.
SARAH
If ye’ll pardon my saying so I ain’t paid to go rubbin’ agin’ the slats of that dirty heathen loike you. I’m paid me two an’ a quarter a day to wash up people’s tracks. Two an’ a quarter a day, mind ye, by this place what owns jewels and things they wraps up in satins and laces what honest people could git some comfort out of—and the cost of livin’ mountin’ high as St. Peter himself.
PROFESSOR
(Impatiently)
If you won’t keep it clean, there are plenty of scrubwomen who will.
SARAH
Ye care more for the looks of that dirty heathen than ye do for my feelin’s.
PROFESSOR
(Outraged)
Sarah! You forget there are only a few fossils like this in existence! I don’t want to have to report you for lack of respect.
SARAH
Shure, it’s not ye I’m not respectin’—it’s that other inhuman beast.
PROFESSOR
Now be a sensible girl and run your rag over it.
SARAH
(Sullenly as her revolt subsides)
Oh, all roight. It’s seein’ it in me sleep I am as it is.
(She slowly picks up the mop and pail and goes under the rail, cautiously rubbing the platform with wide stretched arms.)
PROFESSOR
Around the feet, Sarah.
SARAH
They’re so big it’s glad I am they’ve put a brass rail around ’im so he can’t be prowlin’ about at night trackin’ the place up. It’s bad enough some of the people what come here to see him.
PROFESSOR
But you have less to clean up than some of the other girls. (Sighing.) So few people wander in this out of the way section.
SARAH
Ye don’t think anyone would be fool enough to look at these corpses for pleasure, do ye?
PROFESSOR
I suppose not.
SARAH
Even though it means more work to my poor back, I’m goin’ to ask to be put over where the cases of butterflies are. When I was a-scrubbin’ around them I could be thinkin’ that I was out among the daisies, instead of hangin’ ’round a morgue.
PROFESSOR
That’s much better, Sarah. (Gazing in admiration at the fossil.) Wonderful specimen—wonderful!
(ROBERT HOOD enters. He is a well set-up, attractive young man about thirty. As he glances impatiently at his watch, it is evident he is ill at ease and under the stress of an unusual emotion. Though he carries a Museum catalogue it is soon apparent he has come for a rendezvous.
SARAH soon disappears from view—scrubbing.)
HOOD
I beg your pardon. Is this where the Brontosaurus lives?
PROFESSOR
Yes. (Proudly) This is the Brontosaurus.
HOOD
(Indifferently)
Oh, is it? Thanks.
PROFESSOR
Are you interested in fossils?
HOOD
Fossils?—Oh, yes; but only the living ones.
PROFESSOR
Oh, then you’ve come to see the Hoatzins?
HOOD
(Impatiently)
Not especially.
PROFESSOR
They’re in the ornithological section. Curious, isn’t it, when people think fossils are so remote, that to-day in the thorn bushes along the Berbice River there should be a small living bird who swims, creeps, climbs, dives and can duplicate within a few minutes the processes of evolution through the centuries. Mr. Beebe calls them “living fossils”; so when you said....
HOOD
(Again looking at his watch)
It’s very interesting.
PROFESSOR
Their wing formation somewhat resembles the Archæopteryx. We have a cast of the Solenhofen specimen, if you....
HOOD
I have a catalogue. I’d like to study them myself, quietly at first, if you don’t mind.
(He sits down on the bench at back and opens the catalogue. The PROFESSOR is offended, gives him a look and goes out. The minute he has gone, HOOD arises, takes several steps about as though looking for someone. SARAH has entered with her pail and watches him. She stands there, a worn and abject figure. HOOD takes out his watch again.)
SARAH
I beg ye pardon?
HOOD
(Startled a moment)
Eh?
SARAH
Do ye be havin’ the toime about ye?
HOOD
My watch says four. But I think it must be fast.
SARAH
(As she wearily crosses)
Thank ye, sir.
HOOD
(A bit anxiously)
When does the Museum close?
SARAH
For ye or for me?
HOOD
Why, for me; of course.
SARAH
Ye’ll hear the bell in a half-hour; it’s not long after that I’ll be a-pullin’ up these shades.
HOOD
Thanks.
SARAH
(Pointedly as she begins to wash up his footsteps)
If ye need more toime to look at the animals ye may be doin’ it, as the Professor is expectin’ a whole regiment of soldiers.
HOOD
(Vexed)
Coming here? I thought nobody ever came here?
SARAH
Ye mustn’t be surprised at anythin’ in a museum. All the strange animals ain’t behind the railin’s.
(She gives him a knowing look and finally goes out of sight, mopping down the aisle. He takes a step impatiently and then sits in back and opens catalogue aimlessly as he sees MRS. CORNELIUS VAN DYKE and MRS. JAMES MORROW enter from back. They do not notice him at first.
MRS. VAN DYKE is a harmless middle-aged woman who throughout life has comfortably relied on her blood instead of her brains. She hides the absence of the latter by a calm and superior imperturbability.
Her companion, MRS. JAMES MORROW, is younger; obviously nouveau riche, she has achieved a successful manner, most of which is dexterously expressed in her lorgnette.
Both women are handsomely gowned and proclaim to the observer flaunting wealth.)
MRS. VAN DYKE
I’m sure we’ve lost our way.
MRS. MORROW
The attendant said keep turning to the right.
MRS. VAN DYKE
I can’t say it’s my idea of ancient jewelry.
MRS. MORROW
No. But if we dressed up at Mrs. Bilton’s ball like some of these animals, we’d certainly make a hit.
MRS. VAN DYKE
It might suit you, dear; but I think I’ll wear at least some jewelry. I’m sure there must be wonderful old pieces in the museum I can get Tiffany to copy in time. I must find something original.
MRS. MORROW
(Looking absently at HOOD through her lorgnette)
Dear me, this is a terrible place—full of monsters.
MRS. VAN DYKE
I can’t say they’re very showy. (Glancing at the BRONTOSAURUS.) What an ugly animal! What is it?
MRS. MORROW
(Reading sign)
It’s a Bron—(Not able to pronounce it and turning away) I left my reading-glasses at home. You try.
MRS. VAN DYKE
(After studying it a moment)
Oh, yes: I’ve heard of them. (More closely.) Why, that looks like your husband....
MRS. MORROW
(Interrupting, as she turns quickly to the fossil)
My husband? That?
MRS. VAN DYKE
(Looking more closely)
Yes. It is your husband’s name. (Reading) “Donated by James Morrow.”
MRS. MORROW
Why this must be Jim’s beast!
MRS. VAN DYKE
Jim’s beast?
(HOOD covertly shows a bit of interest in spite of his more pressing impatience over their presence.)
MRS. MORROW
I knew there was something here Jim wanted me to see. He donated $250,000 to the museum last year. He said they’d bought some old animal with it.
MRS. VAN DYKE
I can’t say I admire his taste. I thought he went in for horses.
MRS. MORROW
Of course, it’s Jim’s own money; but it does seem a bit extravagant to turn all that money into old bones.
MRS. VAN DYKE
Yes; when he might buy so many nicer things you could wear.
MRS. MORROW
Jim’s been awfully generous to me; though, of course, now that the war’s over we’ve got to hold in a bit. He hasn’t any more army contracts, you know. (Sighing) It certainly was wonderful while it lasted.
MRS. VAN DYKE
I shouldn’t worry about it if I were you. Why, even this beast would look like a piece of bric-a-brac in that new house he gave you.
MRS. MORROW
(The hand of SARAH mopping in the aisle is seen. MRS. MORROW is startled.)
What’s that?
MRS. VAN DYKE
Oh, it’s only an old scrubwoman.
MRS. MORROW
They might wait till the museum closed before they splash about spoiling our gowns.
MRS. VAN DYKE
Well, if we’re ever going to see that ancient jewelry before we’re as old as it is, I suppose we’d better try and find it.
MRS. MORROW
But I’ll have to tell Jim I came especially to see his beast: he’ll want to know what it looks like, the poor dear!
(ELIZABETH LIVINGSTON enters. She is a woman of such an indefinite age that she must be past her early thirties. Handsome, well-groomed and yet a bit hectic, her secret is that she is a born intriguanté and likes to see men feverish.
She sees HOOD: he sees her: the two women catch this exchange of glances, though HOOD instantly resumes reading and BESS goes quickly to the case opposite not to betray she is there to meet HOOD.
The two women exchange significant glances. HOOD looks up and catches MRS. MORROW eyeing him through her lorgnette. He rises in question.)
MRS. MORROW
(To cover it)
I beg pardon. Do you happen to know where they keep the ancient jewelry?
HOOD
(Politely)
I think it’s to the right.
MRS. VAN DYKE
But that’s what the other man said.
HOOD
Have you tried the long hall?
MRS. MORROW
But which hall?
HOOD
(Obviously trying to get rid of them)
The very furthest hall.
MRS. MORROW
Oh.... (She turns to MRS. VAN DYKE.) The very furthest hall, he said. (Aside to her as they turn) I’m afraid we’re de trop. I’m sure it’s....
MRS. VAN DYKE
I thought so, too; and with a different tame robin this time. (As she turns and looks at the BRONTOSAURUS.) I’m glad I won’t look like Jim’s beast when I’m dead.
MRS. MORROW
Well, dear, we’ll never be found in a museum at any rate.
MRS. VAN DYKE
(As they go up)
I don’t know. I’m most dead already.
(MRS. MORROW gives a look at BESS through her lorgnette. They go out obviously gossiping about her.
HOOD takes a step to see they have gone. Then he turns tensely.)
HOOD
Bess!
BESS
Oh, Bob!
HOOD
Dearest!
BESS
Be careful. Somebody may see us. I’m sure those women....
HOOD
(With extravagant expression)
I’d like the whole world to see us. I can’t stand this much longer. Bess, I want you.
BESS
I know. Sh!
(SARAH comes from out of aisle, goes out of sight, obviously to clean another aisle. But she has seen them and gives a knowing smile as though such rendezvous were not unusual.)
HOOD
It can’t go on like this.
BESS
Aren’t you satisfied with what we’ve already had?
HOOD
(Unconsciously playing up to the situation)
I want all or nothing—the you all the world has, too. I....
BESS
Yes? Say it. I like to hear you say it.
HOOD
I want you to be my wife. (Intensely) Bess! Bess! Will you?
BESS
Give me time to think.
HOOD
But it can’t go on like this ... having me meet you in strange places ... always being afraid. Bess, you love me, don’t you?
BESS
Oh, Bob!
HOOD
You’ve never loved anybody before as you love me?
BESS
Oh, no; you’re so fine and strong and....
HOOD
Then why are you afraid?
BESS
The world ... my world ... your world....
HOOD
But you wouldn’t be the first who....
BESS
Don’t drive me to the wall!
HOOD
You must decide.
BESS
I’m thinking of you. I’m older than you. In time, perhaps, you....
HOOD
Never.
BESS
How you say it!
HOOD
I love you. I’ve never loved any woman before. I’ll never love any woman again.
BESS
My dear boy! I must go now. I just wanted to see you, to hear you say you love me.
HOOD
And I came because I wanted a definite answer.
BESS
Wait. In time. Don’t drive me to the wall.
HOOD
(Heroically)
I tell you I’ll kill myself if....
BESS
Bob! Do you care as much as that?
HOOD
Yes. Nothing else matters.
BESS
But your career—your position?
HOOD
You are more than all that. What will you give up for me?
BESS
Sh! Somebody’s coming. (In a different tone, mistress of herself.) It must have taken a good many years to collect these specimens.
(RAY LIVINGSTON has come in on this, walking slowly down with eyes that glitter for a moment on seeing them.
He is about sixty. The tightly drawn skin on his face clearly reveals the bones beneath. He is an aristocratic, calm, collected man: the essence of deliberate politeness. When he comes to them he acts as though he were surprised.)
LIVINGSTON
Bess. This is a surprise.
BESS
Ray?
LIVINGSTON
Do you come here often?
BESS
I was just strolling through to look at some ancient jewelry when I happened to meet Mr. Hood.—This is my husband. Mr. Hood.
(As LIVINGSTON crosses slowly and shakes his hand with cold studied courtesy, HOOD gives him a sickly smile, ill at ease in an unaccustomed situation.)
LIVINGSTON
I’m charmed to meet you. I’ve heard Mrs. Livingston speak of you. Let me see, where was it?
BESS
(Casually, mistress of herself)
Perhaps it was after I first met him at Judge Wilton’s. Mr. Hood is in the Legislature, you know.
LIVINGSTON
To be sure. I remember your photograph in all the newspapers. (Half playfully) But you’re rather a young man for such a conspicuous and responsible office.
HOOD
(Trying to be at ease)
One soon grows older up there.
LIVINGSTON
(Pleasantly)
I hope that means wiser; for wisdom, I’m told, is only a matter of perspective, and its secret is finding the relative importance of things. (With a smile.) But, of course, everything must seem vitally important at the beginning. Just as each moment of life was once the most important thing to these animals. (Before HOOD can answer.) Are you interested in fossils?
HOOD
(Eyes him)
I’m trying to understand their meaning and significance.
LIVINGSTON
Do you find it difficult? I see you have a catalogue. Do you come here to study them?
BESS
(Trying with her skill to relieve the situation)
Mr. Hood was just telling me he was planning to introduce a bill in the Legislature to—to extend the wings.
LIVINGSTON
To extend the wings? What of?
BESS
Of the Museum, of course.
LIVINGSTON
Indeed?
HOOD
(Lying in spite of himself)
Yes.
BESS
(With a reassuring smile)
He thinks it’s a bit cramped here.
LIVINGSTON
I quite approve. Space is what is needed. But you’ll find it difficult to get money from the Legislature for such purposes. I’ve tried myself.
HOOD
Oh, are you interested in museums?
LIVINGSTON
Didn’t you tell him, Bess, about the museum I had planned?
BESS
(Beginning to detect his intention)
No; it slipped my mind.
LIVINGSTON
(Playfully reproving her)
And I had such a personal interest in it, too.
HOOD
Was it a museum for fossils?
LIVINGSTON
It was to prevent people from becoming fossils before their time. It was a museum of safety appliances.
HOOD
Industrial?
LIVINGSTON
No: domestic. From a very long life, I’d observed that in the world and in the home, most everybody, through lack of a little precaution, makes a fool of himself or herself once or twice in a life.
BESS
(Suavely)
I thought the average was higher; didn’t you, Mr. Hood?
LIVINGSTON
Perhaps the nasty messy mangling is. I’m not sure of the mortalities. You see, Mr. Hood—if you are interested?
HOOD
(With a start)
Very.
LIVINGSTON
What I mean is that people cut off a useful hand or limb—metaphorically, of course—because they go a little too near the machinery: the machinery of what we call the hard facts of life.
HOOD
And what was your exhibit intended for?
LIVINGSTON
(Pointedly)
To have them read the danger signs first. It was my plan to indicate how signs should be put up over terrain places, like stores and homes and....
BESS
(Calmly)
How interesting. What sort of signs were they to be, dear?
HOOD
“Don’t Handle,” “Watch Your Step.” You know the sort. You see, I have a theory that if these signs were placed about in enough places people would soon grow accustomed to carrying them in their mind’s eye, as it were. (Pointedly) Do you get my meaning?
BESS
But, dear; there are so many signs now. Look at these about here for instance. I’m sure people would never get anything out of these by carrying them about in their heads.
LIVINGSTON
It’s merely a matter of how much intelligence and imagination you bring to signs—otherwise they are only words.
(As LIVINGSTON crosses to read sign under the BRONTOSAURUS, HOOD makes a movement as though to speak, but BESS, who has sat on the bench, stops him with an imploring gesture.)
Um—highly suggestive, this. (Reading) “Great Amphibious Dinosaur Brontosaurus ... Jurassic Period ... Donated by James Morrow.... The Brontosaurus lived several million years ago....” You see (To them) James Morrow and the animal have clasped hands over the centuries. Um. From this sign, can’t you picture the love and devotion to science that prompted such a gift?
HOOD
(Now smiling for the first time)
As it happens he didn’t even know what his money was for. While I was waiting here I heard Mrs. Morrow say.... (He stops short as LIVINGSTON gives him a sharp look.)
BESS
(Quickly)
You see, dear, you were mistaken in that sign.
LIVINGSTON
(Casually)
Perhaps. Curious though how much information a man picks up while he waits about. (He crosses over to the case opposite.) I wonder what this one will reveal.
(HOOD sees he has been caught in a slip. It spurs him into a mood of retaliation. He overcomes a momentary hesitation and then shows he resolves to tell LIVINGSTON everything.)
HOOD
(With hoarse nervous intensity)
Mr. Livingston!
BESS
(Under her breath to him)
Bob!
LIVINGSTON
(Not turning)
Yes?
(For a second HOOD is about to speak, but he is halted by BESS’S look and voices, as the PROFESSOR, followed by LARRY ANDERSON, enters.
LARRY is a fine strapping doughboy in his uniform, on which are two gold service stripes and several decorations for bravery. His hand is bandaged. They come down.
As LIVINGSTON gives no indication of leaving, BESS still sits there while HOOD keeps his eyes on her husband’s back. His silence holds them there.)
PROFESSOR
But I was expecting at least two hundred.
LARRY
They got lost on the way.
PROFESSOR
Lost?
LARRY
Yes. I left them at the Follies. But I’d heard my uncle speak of this place.
PROFESSOR
(Brightens)
Is your uncle interested in fossils?
LARRY
Yes. He’s a queer bug. He told me to be sure and not miss the Chamber of Horrors. You know, where all the Kings and Queens and statesmen are embalmed in wax?
PROFESSOR
But, my dear friend, they tore down the Eden Musée several years ago.
LARRY
They did? Why didn’t they wait till I got back? Haven’t you any Chamber of Horrors here?
PROFESSOR
No; this is the Paleontological section.
LARRY
(Looking about)
Well, now that I’m here maybe this will do as well.
(LIVINGSTON now turns, leaning against the case, much interested in the two men. As he shows no intention of moving, BESS sits there, twisting her handkerchief nervously in her hand. HOOD is embarrassed and undecided.)
Trot ’em out, so I can tell uncle I’ve seen ’em.
PROFESSOR
(POINTING TO BRONTOSAURUS)
This is a major Dinosaur.
LARRY
Major what?
PROFESSOR
The more popular name is the Brontosaurus.
LARRY
Is that so? (Looking at it.) Some bird!
PROFESSOR
It’s a reptile: its name means Thunder Lizard because its mighty tread shook the earth.
LARRY
Where did it grow?
PROFESSOR
From other bones we have found I should say it roamed all over the world. This specimen was dug up in Wyoming.
LARRY
What was it doing in Wyoming?
PROFESSOR
(On his dignity)
It was possibly overtaken there by an earthquake.
LARRY
Must have been some earthquake.
PROFESSOR
Since it was thus buried in silica away from the decomposing air and moisture, it was preserved for centuries—till we happened to discover it with a pick.
LARRY
You don’t say so! (He looks at it a bit awed.) When we were digging trenches in No Man’s Land we used to find....
PROFESSOR
What?
LARRY
Not that sort of bones.
PROFESSOR
This was in an excellent state of preservation. It is sixty feet long and must have weighed when alive forty tons. It took seven years to dig it out and mount it. We had to be very careful not to break its marvelous tail. If you’ll walk to the other end you’ll get an idea of its length. We found ninety-seven perfect vertebræ.
LARRY
Ninety-seven? You don’t say so?
PROFESSOR
You can count them and see.
LARRY
Ninety-seven what you call ’ems! Think of that. (As he goes up.) And you say it came from Wyoming?
PROFESSOR
Yes.
LARRY
(Proudly)
That’s my state, too.
(LARRY wanders off out of sight looking at the fossil. As the PROFESSOR starts to follow, LIVINGSTON, who has been watching his wife and HOOD, stops him.)
LIVINGSTON
I beg your pardon. I hope you won’t mind our being interested in what you were saying; but we were wondering about the animal ourselves.
(HOOD looks at BESS quickly not knowing what LIVINGSTON is driving at.)
PROFESSOR
(Brightening)
Indeed? I’m afraid our young friend is a bit irreverent.
LIVINGSTON
May I ask what is known of its domestic habits?
PROFESSOR
It was hardly a domestic animal. Its family life probably extended only during the infancy of its young.
LIVINGSTON
Was this a female, by chance?
PROFESSOR
Yes: the large pelvic development....
LIVINGSTON
This one undoubtedly had young, too?
PROFESSOR
Of course. But we have never found any of its eggs. It was a reptile, you know.
LIVINGSTON
But while they were dependent it undoubtedly fought to protect its young—like other animals?
PROFESSOR
With very few exceptions all the female animals at least do that; even those of low intelligence.
LIVINGSTON
This one couldn’t by any chance have been wooed away from that obligation by romantic notions?
PROFESSOR
(Suspiciously)
This—romantic?
LIVINGSTON
But you said it roamed in search of adventure?
PROFESSOR
(A bit on his dignity)
Romance lies in the field of the emotions: I am a scientist.
LIVINGSTON
What I mean is: was she faithful to one or promiscuous?
PROFESSOR
(Embarrassed)
Undoubtedly promiscuous.
LIVINGSTON
Of course.—You see, Bess, the lady existed before man made his conventions.
PROFESSOR
Yes. She could follow all her natural instincts.
LIVINGSTON
Which were?
PROFESSOR
Food and fighting. You will observe her large maw and small brain. Her main weapon of defense was her long powerfully muscled tail. From the teeth, we deduce she was mainly herbivorous.
LIVINGSTON
What did she feed on?
PROFESSOR
Everything she could pick up.
LIVINGSTON
(Significantly)
Think of that, Hood—“everything she could pick up.”
PROFESSOR
Young weeds, tender grass and the like.
LIVINGSTON
Young weeds—ah, yes, of course. Yet in spite of her diet, there is something quite impressive about dead things, isn’t there?
PROFESSOR
(Eyeing it)
They have a dynamic power.
LIVINGSTON
Exactly. You see, Mr. Hood, a dead tree, that has in its time given shelter and substance, fights to be left standing. It resists the alien ax. Its roots go as deep as when they flowed with sap. They also fight to prevent themselves from being torn up. They don’t like to be disturbed—any more than this animal did in its cold clayey comfort. (To PROFESSOR) You say it took seven years?
PROFESSOR
(Not understanding)
Yes. We were afraid of hurting it if we were careless.
LIVINGSTON
You were right to be careful: one shouldn’t hurt the dead. What is its scientific significance?
PROFESSOR
Nothing but a further proof of the slow processes of evolution.
LIVINGSTON
(With a smile)
I am a utilitarian. I see another significance. Possibly she was dug up, a thousand centuries after she died, just to give you an occupation.
PROFESSOR
I can’t accept that as a working hypothesis.
LIVINGSTON
Just think, Hood. Several million years dead! There it stands for man to look upon! Possibly that was why it existed, after all: for us three to look upon. (He glances pointedly at them.) Mr. Hood is thinking of introducing a bill in the Legislature to increase the wings of the Museum.
PROFESSOR
That’s very kind of him. We have many boxes still unpacked in the cellar for lack of room. But, unfortunately, this museum is under the control of the city, not the state.
LIVINGSTON
(Smiling at HOOD)
Indeed?
BESS
(Rising impatiently)
It’s getting late.
LARRY
(Re-entering)
I only counted sixty-three.
PROFESSOR
(Emphatically)
But there are ninety-seven.
LARRY
All right. I won’t argue it.
PROFESSOR
If you’ll come with me, I’ll show you the Tyrannosaurus. They were carnivorous and the greatest fighters of them all.
LARRY
Say, this is a fine place to be showing a fellow who’s just back from France.
BESS
(Sweetly)
Young man, I’d like to shake your hand. I see you have all sorts of lovely decorations. May I ask how you got them?
LARRY
(Embarrassed)
Oh, I was careless and they pinned a rose on me by mistake.
BESS
You must be very proud of them?
LARRY
Sure I am. (Looking at the BRONTOSAURUS.) But that lizard kinder takes the pride out of a fellow.
BESS
But I admire bravery—whenever I see it. I’d like to hear about how you really got those decorations.
LARRY
Would you?
(The gong in the distance rings.)
PROFESSOR
(In back)
If you want to see the Tyrannosaurus before we close....
LARRY
Oh, all right. (To others) Gee, I’ll be glad to get out among the live ones.
BESS
(Smiling at him)
So will I.
LIVINGSTON
(Coldly)
You should have gone to the Follies, young man.
LARRY
Oh, I might have sprained an ankle going to my seat.
(He goes out after the PROFESSOR as BESS looks after him. SARAH comes in back and then goes off. The rear of room darkens, indicating she has pulled the curtain up. LIVINGSTON glances at HOOD who is gazing at BESS with a strange enlightenment.)
LIVINGSTON
I think you’re right, Bess: we’d better be going. We might stop and take the children for a spin before it’s dark.
BESS
Yes.
LIVINGSTON
(TO HOOD)
Are you going our way?
HOOD
No.
BESS
You’re sure we can’t drop you somewhere?
HOOD
No. Thank you.
LIVINGSTON
I’m delighted to have met you, Mr. Hood. (Shaking hands.) I shall follow your work in the Legislature with great interest.
HOOD
Perhaps I may be able to help you with your museum.
LIVINGSTON
Just talking to you has encouraged me greatly. Good-bye. There is a big political future waiting a young man these days—if he keeps his head.
BESS
(Shaking his hand)
I’m sure my husband is right.
HOOD
(Looking at her)
So am I. Quite sure.
(She turns away, as she sees what his tone of finality implies, and looks up at the BRONTOSAURUS with a start.)
LIVINGSTON
What is it, dear?
BESS
Nothing. Only it seems to be smiling at us.
LIVINGSTON
All skulls grin: it’s the eternal laughter of the dead.
BESS
Come. (As she starts.) Dear, don’t you think it might be a good idea to rescue that fine strong good-looking young soldier? He must be so lonely and we might take him for a drive.
LIVINGSTON
(A bit wearily at what he sees ahead)
Oh, yes; if you wish. But I’m sure he should have gone to the Follies.
(He offers her his arm—she takes it. HOOD watches them as they walk out without turning back. He stands there a moment, with a cynical smile creeping over his lips. He throws the catalogue on the seat. Then he goes to the sign before the BRONTOSAURUS.)
HOOD
(Reading and thinking)
“Mainly Herbivorous.” “Anything she can pick up.” “Several million years”.…
(As he gazes there, SARAH enters and goes out to pull up the other curtain. She apparently does so for some red rays slowly gather about the fossil. The room is darker. She re-enters and stands there looking at him. HOOD gives a sigh of relief, and determination: he puts on his hat, and, with hands in his pockets, goes off whistling.
SARAH stands there as the room darkens. Then she goes over near the seat and begins to mop.)
SARAH
Moppin’ and scrubbin’ ... moppin’.…
(She pauses and gives a glance at the BRONTOSAURUS on whose skull are now centered the rays of the setting sun.)
Holy Mother of Saints! What are you grinnin’ at, ye dirty heathen?
(She lifts her arm again in revolt as though to throw the mop at it. Then she puts it down with a sense of futility. She picks up her things and goes off slowly.
The place is now dark save for the faint light on the skull; and even that fades after a little while.)
[CURTAIN]