and begin to laugh when they see that red wallet.  It is a surprise—­a surprise so cleverly constructed that it hits the audience hard just above the laughter-and-applause-belt—­ a surprise that made the act at least twenty-five per cent better than it would have been without it.  And from it we may now draw the “rules” for the use of that most helpful and most dangerous element, surprise in the vaudeville finish: 

Note first, that it was entirely logical for The Eel to steal the wallet—­he is a pickpocket.  Second, that the theft of the wallet is not of trivial importance to Goldie’s destiny and to his—­they are “broke” and they must get away; the money solves all their problems.  And third, note that while The Eel’s possession of the wallet is a surprise, the wallet itself is not a surprise—­it has first played a most important part in the tempting of Goldie and has been shown to the audience not once but many times; and its very color—­red—­makes it instantly recognizable; the spectators know what it contains and what its contents mean to the destinies of both The Eel and Goldie—­it is only that The Eel has it, that constitutes the surprise.

Now I must sound a warning against striving too hard after a surprise finish.  The very nature of many playlets makes it impossible to give them such a curtain.  If you have built up a story which touches the heart and brings tears to the eyes, and then turn it all into a joke, the chances are the audience will feel that their sympathies have been outraged, and so the playlet will fail.  For instance, one playlet was ruined because right on top of the big, absorbing climax two of the characters who were then off stage stuck their heads in at the door and shouted at the hero of the tense situation, “April Fool.”

Therefore, the following may be considered as an important “rule”; a playlet that touches the heart should never end with a trick or a surprise. [1]

[1] See Chapter XVIII, section III, par. 4.

Now, let me sum up these four elements of surprise: 

A surprise finish must be fitting, logical, vitally important, and revealingly dramatic; if you cannot give a playlet a surprise-finish that shall be all of these four things at once, be content with the simpler ending.

The importance of a playlet’s ending is so well understood in vaudeville that the insistence upon a “great finish” to every playlet has sometimes seemed to be over-insistence, for, important as it is, it is no more important than a “great opening” and “great scenes.”  The ending is, of course, the final thing that quickens applause, and, coming last and being freshest in the mind of the audience, it is more likely to carry just a fair act to success than a fine act is likely to win with the handicap of a poor finish.  But, discounting this to be a bit under the current valuation of “great finishes,” we still may round out this discussion of the playlet’s three important parts, with this temperate sentence: