No More Learning

G. (Meditatively. ) We have a great many things to find out
together, God help us both--say so, Pussy--but we shall understand each
other better every day; and I think I'm beginning to see now. How in the
world did you come to know just the importance of giving me just that
lead?

Mrs. G. I've told you that I don't know. Only somehow it seemed that, in
all this new life, I was being guided for your sake as well as my own.

Capt. G. (Aside. ) Then Mafflin was right! They know, and we--we're blind
all of us. (Lightly. ) 'Getting a little beyond our depth, dear, aren't
we? I'll remember, and, if I fail, let me be punished as I deserve.

Mrs. G. There shall be no punishment. We'll start into life together
from here--you and I--and no one else.

Capt. G. And no one else. (A pause. ) Your eyelashes are all wet, Sweet?
Was there ever such a quaint little Absurdity?

Mrs. G. Was there ever such nonsense talked before?

Capt. G. (Knocking the ashes out of his pipe. ) 'Tisn't what we say, it's
what we don't say, that helps. And it's all the profoundest philosophy.
But no one would understand--even if it were put into a book.

Mrs. G. The idea! No--only we ourselves, or people like ourselves--if
there are any people like us.

Capt. G. (Magisterially. ) All people, not like ourselves, are blind
idiots.

Mrs. G. (Wiping her eyes. ) Do you think, then, that there are any people
as happy as we are?

Capt. G. 'Must be--unless we've appropriated all the happiness in the
world.

Mrs. G. (Looking toward Simla. ) Poor dears! Just fancy if we have!

Capt. G. Then we'll hang on to the whole show, for it's a great deal too
jolly to lose--eh, wife 'o mine?

Mrs. G. O Pip! Pip! How much of you is a solemn, married man and how
much a horrid slangy schoolboy?

Capt. G. When you tell me how much of you was eighteen last birthday and
how much is as old as the Sphinx and twice as mysterious, perhaps I'll
attend to you. Lend me that banjo. The spirit moveth me to yowl at the
sunset.

Mrs. G. Mind! It's not tuned. Ah! How that jars!

Capt. G. (Turning pegs. ) It's amazingly different to keep a banjo to
proper pitch.

Mrs. G. It's the same with all musical instruments, What shall it be?

Capt. G. "Vanity," and let the hills hear. (Sings through the first and
half of the second verse. Turning to Mrs. G. ) Now, chorus! Sing, Pussy!

BOTH TOGETHER. (Con brio, to the horror of the monkeys who are settling
for the night. )--

"Vanity, all is Vanity," said Wisdom, scorning me--I clasped my true
Love's tender hand and answered frank and free-ee "If this be Vanity
who'd be wise? If this be Vanity who'd be wise? If this be Vanity who'd
be wi-ise (Crescendo. ) Vanity let it be! "

Mrs. G. (Defiantly to the grey of the evening sky. ) "Vanity let it be! "

ECHO. (Prom the Fagoo spur. ) Let it be!




FATIMA

And you may go in every room of the house and see everything that is
there, but into the Blue Room you must not go. --The Story of Blue
Beard.

SCENE. The GADSBYS' bungalow in the Plains. Time, 11 A. M. on a Sunday
morning. Captain GADSBY, in his shirt-sleeves, is bending over a
complete set of Hussar's equipment, from saddle to picketing-rope, which
is neatly spread over the floor of his study. He is smoking an unclean
briar, and his forehead is puckered with thought.

Capt. G. (To himself, fingering a headstall. ) Jack's an ass. There's
enough brass on this to load a mule--and, if the Americans know anything
about anything, it can be cut down to a bit only. 'Don't want the
watering-bridle, either. Humbug! --Half a dozen sets of chains and
pulleys for one horse! Rot! (Scratching his head. ) Now, let's consider
it all over from the beginning. By Jove, I've forgotten the scale of
weights! Never mind. 'Keep the bit only, and eliminate every boss from
the crupper to breastplate. No breastplate at all. Simple leather strap
across the breast--like the Russians. Hi! Jack never thought of that!

Mrs. G. (Entering hastily, her hand bound in a cloth. ) Oh, Pip, I've
scalded my hand over that horrid, horrid Tiparee jam!

Capt. G. (Absently. ) Eh! Wha-at?

Mrs. G. (With round-eyed reproach. ) I've scalded it aw-fully! Aren't you
sorry? And I did so want that jam to jam properly.

Capt. G. Poor little woman! Let me kiss the place and make it well.
(Unrolling bandage. ) You small sinner! Where's that scald? I can't see
it.

Mrs. G. On the top of the little finger. There! --It's a most 'normous
big burn!

Capt. G. (Kissing little finger. ) Baby! Let Hyder look after the jam.
You know I don't care for sweets.

Mrs. G. Indeed? --Pip!

Capt. G. Not of that kind, anyhow. And now run along, Minnie, and leave
me to my own base devices. I'm busy.

Mrs. G. (Calmly settling herself in long chair. ) So I see. What a mess
you're making! Why have you brought all that smelly leather stuff into
the house?

Capt. G. To play with. Do you mind, dear?

Mrs. G. Let me play too. I'd like it.

Capt. G. I'm afraid you wouldn't. Pussy--Don't you think that jam will
burn, or whatever it is that jam does when it's not looked after by a
clever little housekeeper?

Mrs. G. I thought you said Hyder could attend to it. I left him in the
veranda, stirring--when I hurt myself so.

Capt. G. (His eye returning to the equipment. ) Po-oor little
woman! --Three pounds four and seven is three eleven, and that can be cut
down to two eight, with just a lee-tle care, without weakening anything.
Farriery is all rot in incompetent hands.
What's the use of a shoe-case
when a man's scouting? He can't stick it on with a lick--like a
stamp--the shoe! Skittles--

Mrs. G. What's skittles? Pah! What is this leather cleaned with?

Capt. G. Cream and champagne and--Look here, dear, do you really want to
talk to me about anything important?

Mrs. G. No. I've done my accounts, and I thought I'd like to see what
you're doing.

Capt. G. Well, love, now you've seen and--Would you mind? --That is to
say--Minnie, I really am busy.

Mrs. G. You want me to go?

Capt. G, Yes, dear, for a little while. This tobacco will hang in your
dress, and saddlery doesn't interest you.

Mrs. G. Everything you do interests me, Pip.

Capt. G. Yes, I know, I know, dear. I'll tell you all about it some day
when I've put a head on this thing. In the meantime--

Mrs. G. I'm to be turned out of the room like a troublesome child?

Capt. G. No-o. I don't mean that exactly. But, you see, I shall be
tramping up and down, shifting these things to and fro, and I shall be
in your way. Don't you think so?

Mrs. G. Can't I lift them about? Let me try. (Reaches forward to
trooper's saddle. )

Capt. G. Good gracious, child, don't touch it. You'll hurt yourself.
(Picking up saddle. ) Little girls aren't expected to handle numdahs.
Now, where would you like it put? (Holds saddle above his head. )

Mrs. G. (A break in her voice. ) Nowhere. Pip, how good you are--and how
strong! Oh, what's that ugly red streak inside your arm?

Capt. G. (Lowering saddle quickly. ) Nothing. It's a mark of sorts.
(Aside. ) And Jack's coming to tiffin with his notions all cut and dried!

Mrs. G. I know it's a mark, but I've never seen it before. It runs all
up the arm. What is it?

Capt. G. A cut--if you want to know.

Mrs. G. Want to know! Of course I do! I can't have my husband cut to
pieces in this way. How did it come? Was it an accident? Tell me, Pip.

Capt. G. (Grimly. ) No. 'Twasn't an accident. I got it--from a man--in
Afghanistan.

Mrs. G. In action? Oh, Pip, and you never told me!

Capt. G. I'd forgotten all about it.

Mrs. G. Hold up your arm! What a horrid, ugly scar! Are you sure it
doesn't hurt now! How did the man give it you?

Capt. G. (Desperately looking at his watch. ) With a knife. I came
down--old Van Loo did, that's to say--and fell on my leg, so I couldn't
run. And then this man came up and began chopping at me as I sprawled.

Mrs. G. Oh, don't, don't! That's enough! --Well, what happened?

Capt. G. I couldn't get to my holster, and Mafflin came round the corner
and stopped the performance.

Mrs. G. How? He's such a lazy man, I don't believe he did.

Capt. G. Don't you? I don't think the man had much doubt about it. Jack
cut his head off.

Mrs. G. Cut-his-head-off! "With one blow," as they say in the books?

Capt. G. I'm not sure. I was too interested in myself to know much about
it. Anyhow, the head was off, and Jack was punching old Van Loo in the
ribs to make him get up. Now you know all about it, dear, and now--

Mrs. G. You want me to go, of course. You never told me about this,
though I've been married to you for ever so long; and you never would
have told me if I hadn't found out; and you never do tell me anything
about yourself, or what you do, or what you take an interest in.

Capt. G. Darling, I'm always with you, aren't I?

Mrs. G. Always in my pocket, you were going to say. I know you are; but
you are always thinking away from me.

Capt. G. (Trying to hide a smile. ) Am I? I wasn't aware of it. I'm
awf'ly sorry.

Mrs. G. (Piteously. ) Oh, don't make fun of me! Pip, you know what I
mean. When you are reading one of those things about Cavalry, by that
idiotic Prince--why doesn't he be a Prince instead of a stable-boy?

Capt. G. Prince Kraft a stable-boy--Oh, my Aunt! Never mind, dear. You
were going to say?

Mrs. G. It doesn't matter; you don't care for what I say. Only--only
you get up and walk about the room, staring in front of you, and then
Mafflin comes in to dinner, and after I'm in the drawing-room I can
hear you and him talking, and talking, and talking, about things I can't
understand, and--oh, I get so tired and feel so lonely! --I don't want to
complain and be a trouble, Pip; but I do indeed I do!

Capt. G. My poor darling! I never thought of that. Why don't you ask
some nice people in to dinner?

Mrs. G. Nice people! Where am I to find them? Horrid frumps! And if I
did, I shouldn't be amused. You know I only want you.

Capt. G. And you have me surely, Sweetheart?

Mrs. G. I have not! Pip why don't you take me into your life?

Capt. G. More than I do? That would be difficult, dear.

Mrs. G. Yes, I suppose it would--to you. I'm no help to you--no
companion to you; and you like to have it so.

Capt. G. Aren't you a little unreasonable, Pussy?

Mrs. G. (Stamping her foot. ) I'm the most reasonable woman in the
world--when I'm treated properly.

Capt.