The Finish Line.  While the last-speech of a playlet is bone of the bone and blood of the blood of plot, the finish line is peculiarly a part of dialogue.  It is here, in the last line, that the tragic has a strangely illuminating force and the comic must be given full play.  Indeed, a comedy act that does not end in a “scream” is hardly worth anything.  And, as comedy acts are most in demand in vaudeville, I shall relate this discussion solely to the comic ending.  Here it is, then, in the last line of a comedy act, that the whole action is rounded neatly off with a full play of fancy—­with emphasis on the use of wit.

Of course I do not mean that the last line may be permitted to stray away from the playlet and crack an unrelated joke.  But the last line, being a completing line, may return to some incident earlier than the closing action.  It may with full profit even go back to the introduction, as “The Lollard’s” last line takes Miss Carey back to her interrupted sleep with, “Now, thank Gawd, I’ll get a little sleep.”

Or it may be merely a quaint line, like that which ended a very successful playlet which has stuck in my memory, but whose title I have forgotten.  Here the sweethearts were brought together, they flew into each other’s arms, they kissed.  Naturally the curtain was on that kiss, but no—­they drew apart and the girl rubbed her lips with the back of her hand.  “Aw,” said the boy, “what you rubbing it off for?” And the girl, half-crying, half-laughing, answered, “I ain’t rubbing it off; I’m rubbing it in!”

Or the last line may be a character line, rounding back to the opening, perhaps, but having its mainspring in character, like the last line of “The Village Lawyer”:  “Well,” he sighs—­as he watches the money with which he could have satisfied his longing to buy a clarionet, disappear—­“Maybe I couldn’t play the darned thing anyway!” [1]

[1] Chapter XV, section I.

Example after example might be quoted to illustrate every possible variation, yet in the end we would come to the very same conclusions these four instances reveal.  The finish line is the concluding thought of the action.  It may round back to the opening plainly; bring out sharply the most prominent point developed; vividly present a pleasing side-light with a punch; illuminate a character point; take some completing element and twist it into a surprise—­ indeed, the finish line may present anything at all, so long as it thrills with human interest and laughter.

3.  Fit and Becoming Dialogue

In playlet dialogue there is as much need of the dramatic spirit as in the playlet plot.  Not what is said in real life, but what must be said to express the action concisely, is its aim.  Playlet dialogue cannot take time to reproduce small talk.  It must connote, not denote, even the big things.  To omit is more important than to include.  A whole life must be compressed into a single speech and entire stages of progression be epitomized in a single sentence.  True enough, in really big scenes a character may rise to lofty expression; but of all playlet moments, here sane selection and compression are most vital.  The wind of talk must be made compressed air.