Bambi
it would be better to stay in town."
"Settled. You go pack your things, and I'll look after mine."
They prepared to make their second pilgrimage, this time to the "Land of
Promise."
The Professor showed an unusual amount of interest in the matter.
"How long will it take to rehearse it?" he asked.
"We don't know yet, we're such amateurs. But as soon as we know the date
set for the opening you and Ardelia are to prepare to come. You can come
up the day of the performance, and if you can't stand it, you may come
home the next day."
"A trip to New York? What an upsetting idea!"
"Would you rather stay here, and miss the first play Jarvis and I ever
did together?" said Bambi, disappointedly.
"No, certainly not. I'll come. Just make a note of it, and put it in a
conspicuous place," he added.
"We'll keep you reminded, never fear."
Ardelia gasped when she heard she was to go.
"I'll send you a list of the clothes to bring for the Professor in
plenty of time. I shall give you a new black silk dress for the
occasion."
"Lawd a' massy, Miss Bambi! I'se so excited I cain't talk. A noo silk
dress an' a-goin' to Noo Yawk wid de Perfessor. I decla' dey ain't no
niggah woman in dis heah town got sech quality to work fo' as dis old
niggah has."
"Why, Ardelia, we couldn't have it without you."
"Am I gwine sit wid de' white folks in de' theatre, or up in niggah
heaven?"
"You'll sit in a box with the rest of us."
"Gawd-a'mighty, honey, dis gwine to be de happies' 'casion ob my life."
The co-authors took the night train.
"Not quite a year ago since our first journey together," said Bambi.
"That's so. It seems a century, doesn't it?"
"That is a distinctly husband remark."
"I was only thinking of how much had happened in that time."
"Two new beings have happened--a new you and a new me," she answered
him.
"Are you as changed as I am?" he asked.
"Yes. You haven't noticed me enough to realize it, I suppose."
He made no reply to that. Arrived in New York, they went to the
clubhouse, and took the same rooms they had before. As Bambi looked
about the room, she turned to Jarvis in the doorway:
"It is a century since I knelt at that window and arranged our
spectacular success."
"Well, we're a year nearer to it. Let's get a good night's rest, for
to-morrow we enter on a new chapter."
"It's jolly we enter it together, isn't it, Jarvis?"
He nodded, embarrassed.
"I should like to wish you luck in the new venture, Mr. Jarvis Jocelyn."
"I wish you the same, Miss Mite," he said, clasping her hand warmly.
"You haven't called me Miss Mite for a long time," she said, softly. "I
like it."
"Good-night," said Jarvis abruptly, and left.
"You're a poor actor, my Jarvis," she chuckled to herself.
At eleven o'clock they presented themselves at the theatre. The reading
was to take place in Mr. Frohman's big room. Jarvis and Bambi were
admitted at once.
"Good-morning," said Mr. Frohman.
"Good-morning. This is Mrs. Jocelyn, Mr. Frohman."
Bambi offered her hand to the manager with a solemn face, but the laugh
twinkled in her eyes.
"How do you do, Mrs. Jocelyn? I understand that you had a great deal to
do with this play?"
"I did," she admitted. "Without me this play would have been nothing."
"This leaves you no ground to stand on, Mr. Jocelyn," he laughed.
The members of the company arrived and were presented to the authors.
Bambi kept them all laughing until Mr. Frohman called order. They sat in
state around the big table.
"I propose that Mrs. Jocelyn read us the play," Mr. Frohman said.
"Oh, shall I? It is really Jarvis----"
"If you please," said Mr. Frohman, indicating a chair.
So Bambi began, with a smile at Jarvis, and another at the audience.
They all felt in a good humour. The play was so peculiarly hers, the
intimate quality which had made the book "go" had been wonderfully
retained, so that spontaneous laughter marked her progress through the
comedy. It was all so true and universal, the characters so well drawn,
the denouement so happy! At the climax of the third act the company
broke into irresistible and unpremeditated applause.
"Oh, God bless you for that!" said Bambi, her eyes wet with gratitude.
"We ought to cast you for the girl. You are enough like her to have sat
for the portrait," said Mr. Frohman, wickedly.
Jarvis turned to look at Bambi in his earnest way. He marked the
likeness, again, himself.
"I shall play it just as you read it, Mrs. Jocelyn," said the girl who
was cast for the lead.
"You will greatly improve on my Francesca, I'm sure," Bambi nodded to
her.
Parts were distributed, much discussion followed as to character drawing
and business, then they separated to meet for rehearsal the next day at
10:30. Mr. Frohman had an immediate appointment, so the Jocelyns had no
opportunity for a word in private.
"Queer that Mr. Frohman should think that you are like Francesca, too,"
said Jarvis, on their way to the club.
"Oh, I don't know. We are the same type. That's all."
"You could play the part wonderfully."
"Could I? It would be fun! Still, I think we can make more money and
have more fun writing plays."
She seemed always to be harping on their future together!
The next day was full of surprises for them both. They were entirely
ignorant of conditions in and about the theatre. The big, dark house,
with its seats all swathed in linen covers, the empty, barn-like stage,
with chairs set about to indicate properties; the stage hands coming and
going, the stage manager shouting directions--it was all new to them.
The members of the company were as businesslike as bank clerks. No hint
of illusion, no scrap of romance!
"Mercy! it's like a ghost house," said Bambi.
A deal table was set at one side, down stage, for the Jocelyns, with two
scripts of the play. They sat down like frightened school children,
bewildered as to what would be expected of them.
The actors sat in a row of chairs at one side. The stage manager made
some explanations and remarks about rehearsals, and then the first act
was called. It was slow and tedious work. Over and over again the scenes
were tried. Some of the actors fumbled their lines as if they had never
read English before. Now and then the manager appealed to the authors
for the reading of a line, or an intonation, and Bambi always answered.
At the end of one scene the man who was to play the young musician
came to them.
"I've been thinking over my part, Mrs. Jocelyn, and I think that if you
could write in a scene right here, in act first, to let me explain to
the old fiddler my reason for being in this situation----"
"Oh, no, you mustn't explain. The whole point of the first act is that
you explain nothing."
"Yes, but it would play better," he began, in the patronizing tone
always used to newcomers in the theatre.
"I can't help that. I cannot spoil the truth of a whole character, even
if it does play better," said Bambi, smiling sweetly.
The actor took it up with the stage manager after rehearsal, and was
referred to the authors.
"These new playwrights always have to learn at our expense," he said,
importantly.
"Can't be helped. We have to use playwrights, however irritating they
are," remarked the stage manager.
Day after day they assembled at the same hour and slowly built up the
structure of the play. Many nights Jarvis and Bambi worked on new
scenes, or the rearrangement of the old ones. The first act was twisted
about many times before it "played" to the stage manager's satisfaction.
New lines had to be introduced, new business worked out every day. It
was hard work for everybody except Bambi, and she declared it was fun.
No matter how trying the rehearsals, nor how hard she had to work, she
enjoyed every minute of it. They soon discovered that Jarvis had no
talent for rehearsing. In fact, the mechanics of the thing bored him.
When a new scene was demanded quickly, his mind refused to work. It was
Bambi's quick wits that saved the day. After the first few days she was
the only one to be consulted and appealed to by everybody.
"I can't see that you need me at all in this business. I'm no good at
it."
"Yes, you are, too. You saw where that new scene in the third act
belonged at once."
"Yes, after you wrote the scene."
"But this is why we need each other. I didn't see where the scene
belonged at all. If we both could do the same thing, we wouldn't need to
collaborate. Thank heaven, we don't have the author underfoot
interfering all the time."
"I don't believe she would interfere."
"Heard anything from her, lately?"
"No, she is waiting for the production, I suppose."
"And then the deluge! I may lose you to that story-writing female yet!"
she teased him.
"Don't!" he protested, quickly.
"I won't," she retorted, meaningly.
In late March the date of the production was set. It gave Bambi
unbelievable pleasure to read the announcements on the billboards, and
to stand in front of the three-sheets in the foyer of the theatre.
She wrote Ardelia full directions in regard to packing the Professor's
dress clothes; she told her the train they were to take; she worked out
every detail, so that nothing might be left to the sieve-like memories of
the principals on this foreign journey.
She ordered a new frock for herself, and succeeded in getting Jarvis
measured for new dress clothes. Then she threw herself, heart and soul,
into the last few days of work at the theatre, helping to polish and
strengthen the play. The night of dress rehearsal came, and with it a
new development for her consideration and management.
XXVII
Dress rehearsal was called at midnight, as two of the principals were
playing in other theatres. There was an air of suspense and confusion on
the stage, where the new sets were being put on, which threw Jarvis into
a cold sweat of terror. It only added one degree to Bambi's mounting
excitement. She and Jarvis made their way to the front of the house,
where Mr. Frohman, the leader of the orchestra, and a few other people
interested in the production were assembled.
"I never realized before how many people, how much work and money and
brain go into the production of the simplest comedy for one night's
amusement," she said to Mr. Frohman.
"And yet managers are always blamed because they don't take more chances
on new playwrights," he smiled.
"Jarvis looks as if he were walking to the guillotine, doesn't he?"
"It is a strain, isn't it, Jocelyn? You get used to it after a few
first-nights."
Jarvis nodded, wetting his dry lips with a nervous tongue.
The curtain went down and came up. The first act began. Bambi scarcely
breathed. Jarvis could be heard all over the house. The first part of
the act hitched along and had to be repeated; the stage manager came out
and scolded, while Mr. Frohman called directions from the front. Bambi
turned to Jarvis.
"It's going to be a failure," she said.
"Oh, don't say that!" he fairly groaned.
"Don't be discouraged!" said Mr. Frohman, noting their despairing looks.
"Dress rehearsals are usually the limit."
"But it can't go like this, and succeed," Bambi wailed.
"Don't you worry. It won't go like this."
The night wore on, miserably, for the authors. Everything had to be done
over--lines were forgotten--everybody was in a nervous stew.
"The awful part of it is that we've done all we can do," moaned Bambi.
"If they ruin it, we can't prevent them."
"We'll make them rehearse all day to-morrow," said Jarvis, fiercely.
"They were better than this two weeks ago."
The end of the agony finally came. The stage manager assembled the weary
company and gave them a few select and sarcastic remarks as to their