THE COURIER
f
A COMPLETE SUCCESS.
By Amy Elizabeth Leigh.
Characters.
Mrs. Jo North, a tremendously busy woman.
Monday, her pet skye.
B e&sie Stephenson, her pretty Bister.
Joseph M. North, her husband, a successful man of business.
Mrs. Chevalier, her friend and co-worker.
Dick Arlington, Bessie's fiancee.
Mr. Fred Griffith, a young gentleman of leisure.
Scekk Mrs. Jo North's quaint and cozy morning room, 10 a. m.
It is a legal holiday, and Mr. Jo North is at home, sprawling over a
couple of chairs and looking rather bored, as he IiBtlessly fondles the
unresponsive skye. A half-smoked cigar lies, with the morning pap
er, at his elbow. Mrs. Jo is at her escritoire, writing furiously. Her
set lips and the two perpendicular wrinkles which stretch from her
small nose to her fluffy blond bang denote determined concentration.
Knocks are heard upon door L, but Mrs. Jo ignores them.
Mr. N. in t he midst of a yawn. Umm-mm-yah ! Come in !
Enter Mr. Fred Griffith.
Griffith lutlding his stick and hat and smiling exjmnsively.
Good morn discovering Mr. North Hello ! What's going to
happen? You here?
Mr. N. explaining apologetically. Legal holiday, you know.
Griffith whose days are all holidays. Ob, I see! Who is it, this
time, that the nation delights to honor? Washington? or St. Patrick
or the Declaration of Independence? And how is Mrs. North, after
her after her strenuous exertions in behalf of sweet charity?
Mrs. N. writing liarder than ever. Don't speak to me! Don't
interrupt me! I'm writing.
Griffith blandly. Ah! North, your wife is the busiest person I
know; a perfect slave ! Why don't you ask me to sit down?
Mr. N. I'm too sleepy. Why don't you sit down without being
asked? Sit down !
Griffith carefully laying hat and stick on a chair. Thanks !
Sinks into Turkish seat in corner of ronvu You're not smoking?
Mr. N. drowsily. N,- Guess I am. Have one?
Griffith. What luck ! Mrs. Jo will never let me smoke. Why
this discrimination? to Mrs. North who does not hear. Oh I beg
your pardon Mrs. North, don't let me disturb you. Lights a cigar
ette. It's a pity there aren't more legal holidays. To Mr. North.
I'm so glad you're at home. I may smoke ! Puffs ecstatically.
Mrs. Jo dropping her pen. There ! Heaven be praised, that's
done! Uses blotter energetically. If ever I am wheedled into any
thing like that again, I hope my friends will have expert examina
tion as to my sanity !
Griffith. What's the matter, Mrs. Jo? You look flustered, as it
were.
Mrs. Jo. Who wouldn't look flustered, I'd like to know? We've
worked four solid reeks to make a success of that Mrs. Emerson-Osgood-Adams
recital, and now, I've got to report the total profit
as four dollars and eighty-five cents. I'm half dead !
Griffith. By Jove! Four dollars and eighty-five cents ! s-
Mr. N. (dreamily). One dollar and twenty-one and one-quarter
cents a week. My dear; I'm proud of you.
Mrs. Jo. If you make fun of me, I'll just break right down and
cry ! It's too bad ! But our expenses were they were awful par
alyzing ! I never thought of adding them up till it was over last
night You see, we had to pay her seventy-five dollars to begin with;
she wouldn't open her lipe for a cent less
Mr. N. A good business head has Mrs. Emerson-Osgood-Adanis!
Griffith. Well, I'm glad to hear it's good for something! A
homelier being I never beheld.
Mrs. Jo. She isn't a beauty, that's true. If she were, Bhe'd have
been well married before this, instead of earning her bread by the
sweat of other people's brows, as she's doing now ! Mercenary
thing ! Extorting seventy-five Jollars from us, and leaving us with
a profit of
Griffith. Ha! Ha! Four eighty-five ! Carolyn will faint 1 She
sent me around on purpose to find how much you'd made. She
said it was a complete success ! She's in bed with one of her face
aches, of course. Went without her luncheon yesterday.
Mrs. Jo. So did I; so did all of us ! We were too busy decorating
to take time to eat. Didn't the stage look lovely ? That roses
tanglsd-up-in-a-tennis-net idea of Carolyn's was a perfect inspira
tion !
Griffith. Guess it was too much for her. Poor girl ! She looks
shocking ! A knock is heard on door L.
Mr. N. yawning. Umn-yah ! Come in !
Enter Mrs. Chevaliei .
Mrs. C. Who's hre ? Good morning ! Goo-oo-ood morning,
Monday darling takes dog from Mr. N. Is he rumpling your ears
all wrong ? Eva. I've just rushed around the first thing to find out
how much wo
Mrs. Jo. Oh. of course ! How much we made ! Well, my dear,
prepare yourself ! I'm almost ashamed to tell you; it's so paltry.
Mrs. 0. Then we didn't lose anything ? Mrs. Jo shakes her
head. Well, I'm thankful! I got to thinking about it last night,
and I just laid awake and quaked ! I was sure we'd never pay ex
penses! Mrs. Jo. solemnly. We cleared four dollars and eighty-five
cents.
Mrs. C. dropping Monday. Oh ! That's almost worse than
not making anything! Four dollars mournfully and eighty-five
cents. Well, I hope my husband won't find it out I shall never
hear the last of it! Throwing herself into a chair. I'm done
working for charities !
Mrs. Jo. So am I !
Mr. N. skeptically. Seems to me I've heard something like that
before.
Mrs. C. Well, I mean it, this time ! I hate philanthropy !
Mrs. Jo. So do I! I believe it's demoralizing!
Enter L without knocking, Bessie Thompson, who leaves the
door ajar.
Bessie breathlessly. Oh! Eva! Dick and I have a wager
pants and I want you to tell me Quick, he's coming !- did we lose
money? If we did, don't
Enter L., Dick Arlington.
Dick. Oh, Mrs. Jo, don't let her coax you into I mean you see,
we have a bet. Has she told you ?
Bess. How could I tell her when I have'nt had time to catch my
breath ?
Disk (to Mrs. Jo.) Well, I say you didn't clear enough to buy
peanuts for the Protestant Orphan asylum
Bess. And I say that we did !
Dick (to Mrs Jo.) Honestly, now ! Did you ?
Bess, (importunately, to Mrs. Jo.) Didn't we ? Say we did !
If we didn't
Mr. N. Stop browbeating my wife, or I'll summon Monday to
protect her !
Bees and Dick (imploringly.) Tell me !
Mrs. Jo (solemnly.) We made four dollars and eighty-five cents.
Bess and Dick. Four dollars and eighty-five cents ?
Mrs. C, Mr. N. and Grit (corroboratively.) Four eighty-five !
Dick (laughing triumphantly.) Bess, I've won !
Bess. Dick Arlington, I think you are the most thoroughly er
unsympathetic man ! The idea of roaring like that ! Think of the
good the money we did'nt make might have done ! I I'm ashamed
Highest of all in Leavening Power. Latest U. S. Gov't Report
oYal feKl
ABSOLUTELY PURE
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