Butler.  Well, what d’ya want?

Jack.  Could I shovel the snow off your sidewalk?

Butler (fiercely).  What d’ye mean by comin’ to the front door?

Jack.  Oh, I forgot.

Butler.  Gow an with ye!

Jack.  Won’t you give me a chance?

Butler.  Where’s your shovel?

Jack.  Why—­I haven’t a shovel.

Butler.  Well, what d’ya mean to use?  Your hands?

Jack.  I thought you might lend me—­

Butler.  Lend you!  And me standin’ out in the snow to watch ye return it, hey?

Jack (humbly).  I won’t steal anything.  I’m trying honestly to earn the price of a shovel.

Butler.  If ye didn’t spend your money in drink, ye might have the price.

Jack.  I haven’t had anything to drink—­nor anything to eat either.

Butler.  Well, we ain’t runnin’ no breadline ’ere.  Get along with ye! (Slams door.)

Jack (stands shaking his head meditatively) Gee!  This is a cold world!

Shoveller.  Say, young fellow!  I’ll tell ye what to do.

Jack.  What’s that?

Shoveller.  Come back in August.  Ye’ll find it warmer.

Jack (wanders off muttering to himself). I’ve got to get a shovel!

Bill (appears at window Right).  Say, Peggy! (The Play-play vanishes.)

Peggy.  What is it, dear?

Bill.  Can I have my paper soldiers?

Peggy.  Yes, dear. (Hurries to get them.) Now be quiet, Bill.  I’m busy now.

Bill.  Where is Will?

Peggy.  Washing the dishes.

Bill.  Can’t I help him?

Peggy.  No, dear—­we’ve got to talk about this play we’re writing.  Here are the soldiers.

Bill.  All right. (Exit Right.)

Peggy (goes to entrance Left where dishes are heard rattling).  How are you making out?

Will (off Left).  What do you think of my opening scenes?

Peggy.  Why, I think they could be better.  You see, Will, you don’t really know anything about snow-shovellers or butlers.

Will (appears in doorway Left, wiping a dish_).  I’ve got a real character for the next scene at least.  I used Bill!

Peggy.  For heaven’s sake!

Will.  As a street-gamin.

Peggy.  But Bill’s not like a street-gamin.  Such a child is full of slang.

Will.  I thought of what Bill might have been if he’d been turned out to shift for himself.  I imagined the soul of a street-gamin in the body of our Bill.

Peggy.  That sounds rather terrible. (A pause.) By the way, Will!  That love-interest you said was to come!  Where is it?