inferior atmosphere of this station here Along with our little friend.  I guess we shall all go home and treasure the memory of his face as the whitest thing in our museum of recollections.  And perhaps this good woman will also go home and wash the face of our little brother here.  I am inspired with a new faith in mankind.  Ladies and gentlemen, I wish to present to you a sure-enough saint—­only wants a halo, to be transfigured. [To the little man] Stand right up.

[The little man stands up bewildered.  They come about him.  The official bows to him, the policeman salutes him.  The Dutch youth shakes his head and laughs.  The German draws himself up very straight, and bows quickly twice.  The Englishman and his wife approach at least two steps, then, thinking better of it, turn to each other and recede.  The mother kisses his hand.  The porter returning with the Sanitatsmachine, turns it on from behind, and its pinkish shower, goldened by a ray of sunlight, falls around the little MAN’s head, transfiguring it as he stands with eyes upraised to see whence the portent comes.]

American. [Rushing forward and dropping on his knees] Hold on just a minute!  Guess I’ll take a snapshot of the miracle. [He adjusts his pocket camera] This ought to look bully!

CURTAIN

FROM THE SERIES OF SIX SHORT PLAYS

Four of the SIX SHORT PLAYS

CONTENTS: 

     Hall-marked
     defeat
     the sun
     punch and go

HALL-MARKED

A SATIRIC TRIFLE

CHARACTERS

Herself. 
Lady Ella. 
The squire. 
The maid. 
Maud. 
The rector. 
The doctor. 
The cabman. 
Hannibal and Edward

Hall-marked

     The scene is the sitting-room and verandah of her bungalow.

The room is pleasant, and along the back, where the verandah runs, it seems all window, both French and casement.  There is a door right and a door left.  The day is bright; the time morning.

[Herself, dripping wet, comes running along the verandah, through the French window, with a wet Scotch terrier in her arms.  She vanishes through the door left.  A little pause, and lady Ella comes running, dry, thin, refined, and agitated.  She halts where the tracks of water cease at the door left.  A little pause, and Maud comes running, fairly dry, stolid, breathless, and dragging a bull-dog, wet, breathless, and stout, by the crutch end of her ’en-tout-cas’].

Lady Ella.  Don’t bring Hannibal in till I know where she’s put Edward!