Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1903-07-24
A Discord in
a Flat
By HARLE oREN cUMMINs
Copyright, 1908, by Daily Story Pub. Coz

Mrs. Edith Hornung "a highly-strung
'woman.)
MIR. Jack Hornung Dust an average MANI
Mrs. Medar GA sympathetic friend also
tuned a little above concert)
Scene-A nom housekeeping fiat uptown.
Time--Nearly nine a. m.
A FEW HARMONICS.
The Average Man (buttoning up
his overcoa)-"Well, dear, l must be
off. Its the first of the month, you
know, and there is lots to do at the
office.
The HighlyStrung Woman GENDER
Iy)-Poor old Jackets. Has to work
like slave all day so his little wife
can wear the latest things in fou-
lards.
The A. M,-0h, by the way, have
comps. for the Hollis tonight. Would
you like to go?
The II. S. W.-Would like to go!
Why, you dear boy, / should say L
would. That's where Held is playing
and I've just been dying to see if
those fifteen hundred dollar dresses
of hers are real or not.
The a. M.-Don't plan too much on
ut, for | may not get the tickets.
There's an awful rush for seats and
the specs" have bought up almost
everything. If 1 do get them I'll be
home early and We'll go over TO the
Somerset to dinner. (QIe kisses her
and starts for the elevator. She fol-
lows him.)
The H. S. W.-How perfectly love-
ly! But Jackets, dear, who's going
to give you the comps? You haven't
any friends on the stage, have you?
The A. M.--Oh, I've lots of friends
you've never heard about. Good-by,
dear. (He enters the elevator and dis
appears. The Highly-Strung Woman
sits down snd begins wondering if
Jack means what he said, and if he
really has n lot of friends on the
!stage)
THE DISCORD.
Late afternoon. The Highly-Strung
Woman in the sitting room of the
uptown fiat reading the latest novel.
The Average Man enters.
Mrs. H.-Bacls so soon, dear, and
its hardly five o'clock. Oh, did you
get the tickets?
Mr.. H.-Ies, there they are. (Hands
her a small theatrical envelope)
Mrs. II. Gearing open envelope and
examining atubs)-What luck! We're
way down in d. Now I'll find out if
they are 100 dresses or not. You'll
have to promise me, Jack, not to
make goo-goo eyes at any of the
,rt,I L.
the bald-headed row.
Mr.. H.-You seem to forget that
I'm out of college now, and that l
have become a sedate old married
man of twenty-nine. Whew! but I'm
tired. (Throws himself down on the
couch; she picks up the pass which
accompanies the stubs)
Mrs. II. (reading aloud)-On ac-
count of Kit. Who on earth is this
Kitty, Jack?
Mr.. H. (foolishly trying to joke
with a highly-strung woman) n)-Why,
that's one of the rty-thousand-dol
lar chorus girls. l used to know her
|before | met you-and reformed.
Mrs. H. (eXcitedly)-You don't
mean it, Jack, do you? You don't
know any of those horrid creatures?
He'll me you we're just trying to
plague me.
AFR. II. (soothingly)-Of course I
was only joking. Don't get so e1-
cited, my dear. You fly up like
.skyrocket. 1 never knew any chorus
girls.
Mrs. H.-You did too. Mrs. Medlar
told me so the other day, and she
knew you before you ever heard of
me. She says you used to be a regu-
lar rounder, Jack.
Mr.. IL. (energetically)- Mrs.
Medlar and her continued meddling.
If any woman was ever well named
its she.
Mrs H.-Now don't get profane,
Jack. There's no need of losing your
temper about it. I'm beginning to
believe you do know some girl in the
trcup, and that's where you got
those complimentaries
AIR. II. Gmpatiently)-I told you
was only fool!ng Besides, chorus
girls don't have tickets to give GNvay
1htJ uSNCi give any 'lllIS away buJ
believe whatever that gossiping old
hen tells you. l don't know that it
makes much difference.
Mrs. II. Con the verge of tears)-
Why. Jack, how can you say such
hOrrid things to me. OF course it
makes all the difference in the world.
You know if l really did believe it
I'D go back to mother tomorrow.
Mr.. II. thoroughly eXasperated)-
Well, that would be pleasanter for
me than having mother in law come
here.
CThe Highly-Strung Woman begins
to weep. At the same time the ihaid
ushers in Mrs. Medlar, who has run
In from the fiat below.)
Mrs. H.-Emily!
Mr.. H.-Oh, Hades.
Mrs. M,-Why, Edith, what on
.Snrth-l