DEVIL'S BRIG
A Play
Maurioe Rowdon.


CHARAOTERS.
Godfrey Johnson.
Hargaret Johnson, his wife.
Jack Meadowe.
Julia Meadows, his wifé.
Ted Lowell.
'Mr Johnson' 5 Godfrey's father,
Jock Murphy.


SCENE: An office in the Barnley Ridge Electrio
works.
GODFREY JOHNSON, alone, performing a
dance.
ENTER MARGARET JOHNSON.
MARGARET:
What the hell are you doing?
JOHNSON:
Come in.
Come in.
MARGARET: Why are you out of breath?
JOHNSON:
Been dancing. S1lly, ien't 1t? I remembered
being with old Bull's Eye. It was Just outaide
KAKGAKETK Bizerta. We rigged up a stage and did a sketoh
together.
MARGARET: There's a letter from him thie morning.
JOHNSON:
Now that's telepathy!
MARGARET: You've got a man waiting.
JOHNSON:
Who?
MARGARET: Jack Meadows.
JOHNSON:
Didn't I see him before?
MARGARET: Onoe.
About a month ago. He didn't have much
to say.
JOHNSON:
So what bringe him here again?
MARG ARET: He's decided to talk, I suppose.
JOHNSON (reading from a book) 'Monotony, inducing state of
revery.' Hear that?
MARGARET : Godfrey.
JOHNSON:
All right. Read.
MARGARET:
'Jaok Meadow 8. Thirty-four. Techni oal
department. Fifteen years in the plant.
JOHNSON:
Fifteen? That'a unusual for his age. He came
when he was nineteen.
MARGARET: He's married.
No children.


JOHNSON: What's the Personnel Report 11ke?
MARG ARET: Good.
And that'e the fourth interview this
morning.
JOFNSON:
Anyone after that?
MARGARET: Jock Murphy.
JOHNSON: Beén here before?
MARGAREA No.
JOHNSON:
I wonder what old Bull'e Eye's got to Bay!
MARGARET: Don' t forget the name,---Jaok Meadows.
Exit MARGARET.
JOHNSON opens door to JACK MEADOWS.
JOHNSON: Come in, Mr Meadows. Won't you sit down?
MEADOWS: Thank you, sir.
JOHNSON:
You were here before, weren't you?
MEADOWS: That's right.
JOHNSON: About a month ago?
MEADOWS: Yes.
JOHNSON: Well, how are thinge in the Teohnical depart-
ment?
MEADOWS: I'm in a nioe little group, sir. I wanted to
come before, sir-m
JOHNSON: Yes, you didn't want to say much last time.
MEADOWS: Well, I had an idea 1t was all going down on my
PEnsonnel Report.
JOHNSON: Oh, no! The two thinge are quite separate.
Anything you Bay up here is quite oonfidential.
You've been here 8 inoe you were nineteen, haven't
you?
MEADOWS: Yes, air.
JOHNSON: That' 8 unusual. You must know a lot about the
firm.
MEADOWS: Yes, sir.
There were five hundred hands when
I came.
JOHNSON:
Could you name all the airferent departmentsin
the plant?
MEADOWS:
Yes, sir.
Now?
JOHNSON: Well, I only wanted to know if---
MEADOWS: Yes, of course, eir! Well, there are eight in
all. Accounts, Operation, Production, Inspeotion,
Techincal, Speciality Products, Public Relations
and Industrial Relations.
JOHNSON: Good!


MEADOWS:
Ten out of ten, sir!
JOHNSON: Are you quite happy with the Technical people,
Mr Meadows, or do you hope one day to...?
MEADOWS:
Well, I really aspire to Speciality Produots,
sir. You work right under the. acientiste there.
You've got experiments going on all the time.
Is all this going down on the tape?
JOHNSON:
What?
MEADOWS:
Haven't you got a tape-recorder there?
JOHNSON:
Yes.
MEADO WS: They say you keep it on all the time, eir, then
play it over afterwards.
JOHNSON: That'e not true at all, Mr Meadows! Come and see
for yourself.
MEADOWS: It'e & nico set, ien't it?
JOHNSON: Clear as a bell!
MEADOWS: One of ours, eir?
JORNSON: I don't think 80.
MEADCH S: We put out 80 many models thes e days you can
never tell, can you? Nice job, though.
JOHNSON:. My goodness, Mr Meadowe, fanoy ahyxbody using
one of thesé for interviews!
But a bunch of
people aid, you know, in a ateel-Morks near
York. Then they wondered afterwards why people
were reticen't!
MEADOWS:
That's right, sir. It's. like the Personnel
Report---if a man thinks what he eays is going
down on the Personnel Report he's not going to
say muoh.
JORNSON:
Well, you needn't be afraid about that, Mr Meadows, 0
as I Baid before. There are two ideas behind our
scheme: first, the happiness of the people working
on this plant, and secondly output. You've no
1dea how long it has taken indus try to realise that
the two go together! Yet it 1en't a very profound
idea, is 1t?
MEADOWS:
XORKSENX Are you interviewing everybody, sir?
JOHNSON: In time I hope to, yes.
MEADOWS: Do you déal with con mplaints?
JOHNSON: We listen to everything a man likes to tell us.
But we don't deal with the complaint. Our Job
is to prepare a permanent interviewing soheme for
this plant, so that when we've finished everbody
here knows he can get a confidential inte erview
whenever he wante it. And that's part of my Job,
too, to prepare a body of trusty interviewers from
the Publio Relations department. You look a bit
puzzled.
Would you 1ike me to explain the whole
scheme, Mr Meadows?
MEADOWS: Yes, sir, I would.


JOHNSON:
I expect you are wondering what heppens to the
compaaints. They are still in the hande of the
Personnel Department. You see, Mr Meadows, our
idea is to - find out what 8 on a man's .mind.
You've got to realise, you see, that when a man
makes a persist ent complaint about ventilation,
in one of the wiring rooms, let vug say, it may
not really be about ventilation at all 'but the
expression of a grudge he feels against another
worker whose bench 18 by the window and who likes
to keep the window closed all day. The complaint
1s a pret ext for Bomething muoh deeper. Now all
the Personnel department can do is to deal with
the official complaint. It alters the ventil-
ation. But we can tell the Personnel depart-
ment that this is quite useless. The man will
only find something else to complain. about, and
again it will involve the other worker.
MEADOWS: Oh, I see now, sir---
JOHNSON: Before the last war, when these interviewing
schemes began, peopie only thought in terme of
working conditions---ventilation, rest-pauses,
sanitation, wago-inoentives and 80 forth. But
ohangea in that field didn, t raiee the output as
much as they expeoted. Their mistake was to list-
en to the complaints and not to the people who
were making them, Arter all, 1t's no good giving
a man good piece-rates, a well-ventilated room,
meals with the correct number of calories, long
rest-pauses and deoent. wash-rooms 1f you then put
him on the same bench as a man he detests, 1s it?
It sounds very simple, to Bay that a man is muoh
more than a wage-unit to be: properly fed and vent-
1lated, but it has taken us bearly two hundred
yeara of industrial development to find out!
MEADOWS: Well, you've certainly given me a lot to think
about.
JOHNSON:
Sometimes one of our interviews---in a few min-
utes of quiet dis ouesion---Can bring out a griev-
ance which has preyed on a man'a mind for twenty
years.
And Just because he never had a chance
of airing 1t that grievance may have become ob-
seasive and etarted to Warp his whole characger.
Now what we're introducing here, Mr Meadows, 18
a permanent interviewing 8oheme conducted by the
Public Relations department, that will end this
state of affairs. How abaurd it 1s, when you
oome to look at it, to bring about two thousand
people into daily contaot with eaoh other EXAXX
and expeot no problem. Yet there are plante
and down the country which won't hear a. word sala
in our favour.
MEADOWS: That's right sir. You get these people with
backward minda, don' t you?
JOHNSON:
Backward in their own interesta, too.
MEADOWS: It's a soheme for everybody, 1an't 1t? Notjust
for the people on top. I think any scheme' 8
that doesn't go up to the Personnel people.
good used to be on assembly Nork. Shortiy after
that I got a nasty report. Thirteen years ago.
Iwas twenty-one at the time. I used to do a lot
of gallivanting around. - I don't think these


Personnel people 11ked 1t.
JOHNSON:
You were - too much of a spark for them?
MEADOWS:
Yes, that's right! Yet you'd think a spark
in an electric plant would be useful, wouldn't
you? They gave us a test once, when I was just
turned twenty. It was called the Finger Dex-
terity Test. You got about fifty tiny little
about an eightth of an inch thick and you
pego to fit them into holes Just a bit bigger.
It took some doing, Mr Johnson.
JOENSON:
Were you good at that?
MEADONS:
No. There didn't seem to be any brains in it.
I like to use my brains. That Was under your
father. You oun the plant now sir, don't you?
JOHNSON:
Well, i'm chairman of the board. That's not
exactly owndership, you know. There isn't muoh
ownership nowadags. It'a all shares and baords
and ahareholders' meetinge and that sort of thing.
MEADOWS:
Do you explain the Boheme to everybody, eir?
JOHNSON:
I try to.
MEADOWS:
I bet some of them
out of their depth, don't
they, sir? Some agets the soldermen! I was on
solder-work for a bit, too. You wear goggles
all the time. The other people think they oan
push you about. Yes, there aren't many trades
în this plant I'm not familiar with. Now the
assembly room, that's fiddly work. I used to
turn out fifty-five selephone-relays in a day.
I think it's better work for the girls. None
of those parts are bigger than your finger-nail.
Do you read poetry, air? I see you've gota
lot of books up there.
JOFNSON:
Now and then I do, yes. I like singing.
MEADOWS:
This hasn't anything to do with the works, Bir---
JOHNSON:
No, tell me.
Please do.
MEADOWS:
I've bought a poem along.
JOHNSON:
You write poetry?
MEADOWS:
Yesp quite a bit, sir.
JOHNSON:
Most interesting!
MEADOWS:
One or two of the boye do. Only in the Tech-
nical department. It was partly me hearing you'd
got a tape recorder---
JOHNSON:
Oh, yes!
MEAHOWS:
I expeot you think I'm mad.
JOHNSON:
I think writing poetry is very Bane, Mr Meadows.
MEADOWS:
No, what I mean is, would you mind if I recited
this into your tape-maohine?
JOHNSON:
Well; I suppose not. Not at all!
MEADOWS:
You know why, don't you?


JOHNSON:
HEADOWS:
Well, it's no good me going down the as8 embly
room where all the recording atuff 1a.
They'd
pull my leg. It' wouldn' t do for a Technical
man. I've never heard my lines being spoken,
you see.
JOFNSON:
Nell, of course.
(Handing him the miorophone)
Got the poem here?
MEADOWS:
In my head. It's called U A Prayer'
JOHNSON:
A prayer? All right, shoot.
MEADOWS:
Give us this day
Our heart
O Lord, give us our part
To play;
Undo our settled clause
or pain,
But kéep the cause
For which we oame,
Give us this day
Our daily heart.
JOENSON (winding the tape baok) Give us this day our daily
heart Host interesting!
MEADOWS:
It just came out like that---like a prayer.
JOHNSON:
I like 'the settled clause of pain.'
What do
you mean by that?
MEADOWS:
Well, I mean 'how everything's closed in. The
day starts early in the morning and ends at
night, and there doesn't seem any escapet Al-
waye the seme.
It's like a finished clause,
with a full stop.
JOHNSON:
And did you intend a play on the word 'olaws'--
of a bird?
MEADOWS:
No. Wish I did now. Cunning, 1en' t it---
- clause' and 'olaws'?
JOHNSON:
And why the pain?
MEADOWS:
What?
JOHNSON:
Why the pain?
MEADOWS:
I don't know.
JORNSON:
But that's remarkable---a remarkable poem--
MEADOWS:
'Undo' there means turn the olause with a full
stop into a sentence which never finishes.
JOHNSON:
Yes. Most interesting!
Shall we play it back?
MEADOWS:
I'11 go all of a tis-was, 11ke my wife says!
All right, pull the plug, Mon-sewer!
Poem is repeated on tape.
MEADOWS:
Marvellous, ian' t 1t, héaring your own voice?
Like talking to youréelf from heaven. . Uncanny,
too.
Not right, really. Shall I tell you
what Mas on my mind when I wrote it?


JOHNSON:
Yes.
MEADOWS:
I was thinking of the assembly room,
JOHNSON:
All those years ago?
MEADOHS:
That's just what I was going to say. The parts
they gave you vere no bigger then your fingor-
nail. You.put them to gether. Then you ixt
slid them down a chute. Fifty-five times a
day. I got boils on my arse on that job!
Talk about laugh! They changod me over to the
Test Room and the boils went just 1ike that!
I said to the nurse, I said, now whatks the
holl'a the use of you putting that yellow stuff
on, its psychological! Talk about laugh!
We had sone laughs in those daya!
JOHNSON:
Don't you laugh any more?
NEADOWS:
Not 1ike mum and dad. Dad's name was Waiter.
Sije used to oall him Water Closet. That Bort
of thing, you know---anything for a lark.
JOFNSON:
You epid Bomething in thie poen about playing
a part? Don't 'you feel yo u play a part here?
MEADOWS:
I - don't know!
JOHNSON:
How 16 it you haven' t got into Speoiality Products ?
I've been wondering that ever since you oame in
the room.
MEADOWS:
Ah, well!
JOENSON:
How did this Pers onnel Report oome into being?
MEADOWS:
They can see I'm the: bame as them, that's what
they don' t like---!
JOHNSON:
Wijo?
MEADOWS:
Up at Peraonnel. They're Gollegé men. I was
mapped out for a college, tob, end they don't like
JOHNSON:
Why didn't you go to A college?
NEADOWS:
I got marrti.
JOHNSON:
When?
MEADOWS:
When I was twenty.
JOENSON:
A man goes to college at. sevénteen or eighteen.
MEADOWS:.
Oh, weli!
I wanted the money in my pooket, I
8 uppose.
JOHNSON:
What did you neen in this peom by 'keep the
cause for which we came' ? You want God to take
the pain avay but keep sonething---what'o the
something?
MEADOWS:
Well, there mue t be some meaning to things,
mus tn't there? Originally, there must have
been. Two hundred years ago, say. There must
be a little apark somewhere.
We've gone as tray -
somewhere.
JOHNSON:
Who?


MEADOHS:
People like me.
JOHNSON:
But not people like me?
MEADOWS:
Well, you seem to know what you're doing. I
bet you took over your father's plant beca use
you Nanted to.
JOHNSON:
I did, yes. You mean you want freedom, then.
MEADOWS:
What the hell am I doing down there? You could
just as well get a puppet and work it with eleot-
rical shocks.
Finger-work, Like thie. I
did that for nearly twenty yeare.
JOFNSON:
Do you think it would have been if you'a been to
a dollege?
MEADOWS:
Yes! They have it better all right---!
JOHNSON:
Who?
MEADOWS:
In the Personnel office! Stuok-up, bloody
talleyman's ink-bottles!
JOHNSON:
I'm a college man.
MEADOWS:
And look at. the difference.
Look at you sitting
back in your oha ir, choeeing, choosing, choosing-!
And I'm all st tiff---look at me here, sitting on
the edge of my chair, waiting to be'asked quest-
ionep--always waiting---always waiting to know
what' s going to happen to my 1ife!
JOHNSON:
Well, don't wait any more. Change your life.
MEADOWS;
Do you think I could? Once in, you're in for
good, Mr Johnson! That's a decision you take
when you're fifteen.
JOENSON:
You think you'd be happier in Speciality Prod-
ucts?
MEADOWS:
Oh, Speciality Products! I'm a bloody product!
JOHNSON:
And I'm,not?
MEADOWS:
No! It's ohoice, choise, choice!- - What shall
I1 be, what shall i do?' Suppose I said, All
right, I'11 ohange my 1ife,' "can't you seé I'm a
worker down to the tips of my angers, loak at
the way bI walk, it'a the way I eat, I've got a
special sort of jerk, I'm a airferent sort of
Mr Johneon, that's all there is to say!
Peosont Look
you, sitting there, you've got the pers-
onality---I don't know, it's something--you're
confortable---Ypu eit well in your own body--
do you'see what I mean?
JOHNSON:
You mustn't gét worked up, Meadowé.
MEADOWS;
That s right, call me 'Meadows'. I'a like to
cry Bometimes. Five minutes ago it was Mr.
Meadowe. I just open my mouth and you take off
the Mister. Suppose Ioalled you - Johnson'.
JOHNSON:
MEADOWS:
Oh, yes, there's no clase any more, we're all
equal! But I'm still a produc t. My mother and
father didn't use to be 1ike this. My. mum


started out at-half a dollar a week, twelve hours
a day nearly at the matcb-factory, when she was
just turned eleven---and you ought to see the way
she laughs!
JOHNSON:
You mean she laughs more than you?
MEADONS:
Id say!
JOHNSON:
Do you we ant to go back; then?
MEADOWS:
Oh, yes, I know that onge, toom
JOHNSON:
The dole in those daya, I mean just before the
las t war, was twenty-seven bob a week.
MEADOWS;
Oh, you're right. You've got the facte and
figures. It's no good. I could cry for people
sometimes.
JOHNSON:
I think your mum and dad needed. crying for.
MEADOWS:
You shouldn' t call them mum and dad. Don't you
think you have to patronise me. When you say *
that it feels as if you're trying to squeeze your-
self down to half your size---to be level with me--
JOHNSON:
I didn't meant that.
MEADOWS:
It' s funny. You ait there and I'm sure you
expect everybody who comes here to be shyer than
you. You expect to bring them out---with a few
questions, don't you? Why should that be?
JOHNSON:
If I went to them in a sinilar oapacity ra be
shy, too.
MEADOWS:
you woulan' t. This is how you'a do it.
Medodo morning! How d' you do, sir? My name's
Johnson!"
JOHSON:
You're a damn fine mimic!
MEADOWS:
Take those woras 1 damn fine'. There's a oort
of abandon about them, ian't there, Mr Johns son?
But 1f you'd been brought up like me there'a
always be a little fellow shivering ipside you,
saying, 'Yes, that's right, sir, that' s right!!
I reckon I've said 'That' s right a million
times eince Ivas a kid! Because that's titt
what you' re' taught---it's the other man who calla
the tune! Take some of these college men who
come up from nothing.. Just you imagine, they've
always got this shivering little chep inside
them, and if they hold up their heads and atand
on their own two feet without wobbling, I auppose
that' B marvellous enough, couldn't do it!
Yes, I often wnder what ehogo feel 11ke when
they stand in the classy drawing-rooms---I bet
people amell them outmm
JOHNSON:
Are there classy draving roome any more?
MEADOWS:
JOHNSON:
Then the oollege man's 0.K,:
MEADOWS:
There are still clasey people.
Like you.
Xou can't help walking aoross this room as if
you owned it, and I dan't help walking aoross


it-w
JOHNSON:
--As 1f it owned you.
MEADOWS:
Yes. It dceen't matter if the dreving rooms
there or not, the people haven't changed.
JOHNSON:
But that's what higher wages and health-ineur-
ance are for, my dear chep---that 8 why I'm
here---to make you feel as if this room wed
yours--to make youbreel like me.
MEADOWS:
It won't happen 1pke that. There's nodody
under me. There' s' nolody shows me any respect.
Nothing 1ike the respect you got. Iil tell you
the May thinge are going. We're all going to
feel like me. Not the other way round. Your
children are going to feel like me. I've thought
a lot about this. I don't feel I' ve got a right
to have aself.
Sometimes I can hardly get the
word 'I' out of my mouth.
I'want to cover it up
all the time.
JOHNSON:
And my self's been cultivated?-
MEADONS:
That's right! You, had a nurse, aidn't you?
JOHNSON:
A governess, yes.
MEADOWS:
That was the idea, to cultivate you! To make
you a pleasing shape, Mr Jobnson! The idea was
to make you a gentieman---
JOHNSON:
My dear ohap, you're out of date---!
MEADOWS:
But. you are a gentleman!
I don' t mean you
feel superior to me or anybody else. A gent-
lemen doean' t! I don' t mean you're richer- than
me or even better educated. I mean the way
your hande are laying there, 1ike I said-s-
that littlo smile you gave me when I oame in---
it's the feeling of confort all round you--
you've been given time to grow, Mr Johnson,
you've groun to full height! But I'm denned if
I have.
JORNSON:
That 8 your test now, 1en't it? As to whether
you &an cultivate a. self, ES well---with eagal.
chances, I mèan?
MÉADOWS:
They aren't equal chances, Mr Johndon. I
haven't got the time for one thing. You need
time to cultivat e a self in.
JOHNSON:
So your only hope 18 a win on the football pools?
MEADOWS:
That's right.
JOHNSON:
And become a member of the clase that sweated
your mother and father twelve houra a day!
MEADOWS:
That_s right.
JOENSON:
Except that the clada 18. now andor control 800-
lelly and can't sweat. people any aore. They kax
haven' t got uninterrupted time either, now,
have they?
MEADOWS:
JOHNSON:
Well, I don' t find you very realistio.


MEADONS::
Look at it this wey. If you sat down and
talked to me you'd be talking about a real
self. You're an individual---
JOHNSON:
'Bourgeois' would sult you better, woulan' t
it? A man of free choice?
MEADOWS:
That's right. Borjoy". It sounds right,
too. 1 Bore-Joy, like boring into life.
Kill-joy, Bort or'thing. Takes all the Joy
out of iire, that's what the 80-called indiv-
1duals have done.
JOHNSON:
Very well, then, when I, the bourgeois, talk,
it's about a real self, but when. you---
MEADOWS:
When I talk it's about e aocial problem. See
what I mean? I Like now. I'm not. myself.
I'm a hand down in the Technical departaént.
And your clasa stopped me having a: self in the
first plaoe. It put my. 1ife on a schedule.
And it's up to the Bame game now. See what
I mean? You're kind now. You don't sweat
me any more l1ke you did my mo ther and father.
You don't look down your nose at me. But I'm
still a 'hand'. Woll-paid, nicely ventilat ed.
But a hand. With problems. And you're here
to settle the problems. It'a the same world,
Nr Johnson. Xou remember what I said---
Give us Baxxkenxt this day
Our heart
o Lord, give us our part
Boartoiet your part to play, Mr Johnson.
I haven't. When I aie I shall have a flat
11fe 1ike an operating table to look backon!
We're bodies without faces, Mr Sohnson.
JOHNSON:
Who's we?
MEADOWS:
The workers.
JOHNSON:
That ian't true. I can tell you the people
who come in this room have deeper faces than
any I've seen in my own class. The faot that
they hold their faces still doesn't make apy
aifference. Also Idon't think of you as a
social problem at all, Mr Meadows. I listen
to every man, or try to, as if he was the first
man I'a ever listened to.
MEADOWS:
Eo you know, the only time I reelly. enjoy my-
self 18 down at the camp every summer. We
go there every year, the wife and me. It's
called the Sea Bella Holiday campa It'a funny,
they clock you in and clook you out 11ke a
factory, you can't call your soul your own,
but talk about laugh! You don't stop, laughing
from the time you get there! My wire's a
scream. She's got a real gift for burlesque.
JOHNSON:
Likeyou, if I may say 80.
MEADOWS:
Hav e you soen our turn? At Christmas?
JOENSON:
MEADOWS:
Do 1t every year. Boys love it. I married
her fourteen years ago.
She' 8 a meghificent
woman, Mr Johnson. She'e a favourite at Sea


Bells. Her name's. always coming over the
loudspeakers. 'Sre Meadows, come and give
us a hand, will you? There 8 a kiddy says
he' 8 lost! It's a wonder they never gave her
a job down there, she' a be marvellous.
There's alwaye SG onebody to heve a laugh with.
It's like going back to told times. That's
what my street was like before I was born.
Easy-come, easy-go, sort of thing.
JOFNSON:
And it changed?
MEADOUS:
People didn't change inside.
That takes time,
But all the old-time things etopped. You don't
see the muffin man any. more with a tray on his
head and a big bell, and that piece of green
felt over the muffins, do you, on Sunday after-
noons? You can't get peas-pudding and faggots.
I. can remember those carts with oockles and.
winkles. I can remember my uncle Harry coming
over in a black suit and a bowler hat on Sunday
afternoons and pioking the W inkles out with a
pin. Nast ty habits he had. Gobbled his tea.
1'11 never forget that noise.
Ard Aunt Ada
with those boots that used to button up the
ankle. And Guy Fawkes night! Do you remem-.
ber the old Grystal Palace.at Sydenham?
JOHNBON:
Yes. Don't they still have Guy Fawkes night?
MEADOWS:
Yes, but it's not the same.
JOHNSON:
Aren'1 t bon-fires and fireworks good enough for
you?
MEADONS:
I know, I can't put my finger on it. The
fires don' t have that glow like the old ones.
Faces have changed.
JOHNSON:
You mean you're not young any more.
HEADOWS:
No. Oh, : no. That whole race has gone, like
my aunt Ada, I can tell you. I tell you what,
Mr Johnson, borjoy people amell at you. They'
sniff round you like doge. Have you ever not-
iced that? They've alwaue got something going
on in their brains---Who 1s he?', 'What sort 18
he?' And the people round here are getting 1ike
that. I'm a bit like that myself. It's the
money, I suppose. We're all getting like the
gentlemen, but without the fun and wi thoutthe
neck! You can't have twenty million gentle-
men, Mr Johnson!
JOHNS ON:
God forbid:
MEADOWS:
You ought to have seen my aunt Ada and uncle
Rarry come in the room. Unole Barry never
amiled. Ever such a tall man. Not if there
waen't.something funny. But we sort of orànge.
Do you see what I mean? We smile all the time.
People want to be getting on with each other all
the time, whereas in the old daye they didn't
worry. People don't sit inside themselves 11ke
thoy used to, they're peeping outside all the
time!
JOHNSON:
But down at the camp they're different?
MEADOWS:
That'e right.
Théy slip back to their old


selves. down at Maughley Bay.
JOHNSON:
Did you say Maughley Bay? That's twenty miles
from where. I live! Used to paddle in the sea
there when I was a kid!
MEADOWS:
Go on?
JOHNSON:
Devil's Brig.
Heard talk of it?
MEADOWS:
Devil's what?
JOHNSON:
Devil's Brig. Sounds grim, doeen't it? Love-
ly old house, though. It's been oalled that for
a couple of hundred years. Supposed to. look
like a ship in the distance.
MEADOWS::
And you know every nook and cranny, I bet? -
JOHNSON:
Oh, yes!
MEADOWS:
Well, fanoy that! Twenty miles from old
Maughley Bay. My wife'll scream! Has it
got lovely big grounds and a lake and all
that?
JOHNSON:
I suppose you' a call it a lake, yes.
MEADOWS:
Your, father doesn't come to the W orks any more,
does he, sir?
JOANSON:
No, he stays down at Devil's Brig most of the
time. He's past it, you know. He put in a
good many years here.
MEADOWS:
Yes. He was a good man, they say.
JOHNSON::
Do they say that?
MEADOWS:
Oh, yes! Mind you, he oould drive-a man hard.
He coyld be rough, couldn't he?
JOHNSON:
Oh, yes!
Enter. MARGARET.
MARG, ARET:
Mr Murphy's waiting.
JOHNSON:
I see. By the way, do you know Mr. . Meadows?
My wife.
MEADONS:
Good morning, Mrs Johnson. We.'ve just been
talking about old Maughley Bay.
MARGARET:
01d who?
JOHNSON:
Devil's Reach.
MARGARET:
MEADONS:
Well, Mr Johnson, I've taken up a lot of your
time gassing.
JOHNSON:
Not at all. I want to see more of you, Mr
Meadows. More of your poems, too. And mean-
while we' 11 get to the bottom of that Personnel
report.
MEADOWS:
Thank you, sir. Goda morning. I expect
Personael boys are all right when you get to thos know


them!
JOHNSON!
That's right!
Exit MEADOWS,
MARG ARET:
Did you say poems?
JOHNSON:
Yes, Extraordinary, ien't it? Read a poem,
and told me not to call him Meadons! - Did you
like the look of him?
MARGARET:
JOENSON:
That nak ee him interesting.
Extraordinary
ohap!
Imitated relay-work with his fingers--
you ought to have Been him---1ike a pantomime!
MARG ARET:
I like the Nay you think he' s mad! - I wonder
what they think of you, doing all this?
JOHNBON:
'They'. ft's alwaya 'they' with you, isn't
it? That'a just what he Baid. For' your
claee, he said, we're a 800 ial problem, not
individuals.
MARGARET:
They're a problem in your head---in your imag-
ination---that's all.
JOHNSON:
I think I'm asking toc many leading ques tione,
Margaret. Must learn not to lecture. (Dic-
tating) Meadows.
Technical department.
He doean't 11ke what he calls the college men
in the Personnel section. He'e got ahrt their
brains, and he feels they look down on him.
MARGARET:
They probably do!
JOHNSON:
It's a lot of bunkum! There 1en't a college
man among them! That's what Isay, you've no
ins tinot for these people.
(Diotating) Aspires
to Speciality Products. r'1i try and fix him
MARGARET:
Well?
JOHNSON:
I wouldn' t mind being out there with Bull' 8
Eye.
Sun beating down.
Life for a man, eh?
MARGARET:
Is that all?
JOHNSON:
It's funny, Hargaret, they' re calling me 'air'
more than they used to.
MARGARET:
They look up to you, that's why. Do you hola
that againet them?
JOHNSON:
He said he could see
class in the way I Bat-am
what do you think of Ehatto
MARGARET:
We've all got characteristics. I culd see his
alass in him, too. It's what you might the
imprisonment of birth. For instance, I'm a
oounty girl with a 'hard moral core'---
JORNSON:
Oh, for Christ's sake, not now! Keop that
bloody Jangle for Devil's Brig! (Opens letter)
'Dear God'. - : God'! alw,ye tickles me-. a De ar
God, Well, it'8 been a long time since I dropped
'you a line and I'd better get down to describing


the sort of life we're having out here. So
here goes, in the col mpany of John Walker, Eequ-
ire, sitting on the table before me. I've
been up to my eyes in work and this is the first
olear week I've had since Christmas. Gill
hae her hands full with the children and the
servante, who come and
at the most alarming
rate. ou'11 be glad ES hoar the farm'a pay-
ing 1ts way at last.. We turned over even last
mon th, and by the summer of next year we should
be turning over a modest profit. I watch the
old red su un going down every evening, and there's
nothing better. After dinner we close the french
windows and get down to the accounts. G1ll and
the children are as brown as berries. Wonder-
fully quiet at night, except for the Jackals and
the occasional roar of a man-eating lion., Haard
a lioness quite close to the house the other
night, and there was R 8 care at the local vill-
age. When you get tired of aitting at a desk
trying to promote production-rates, why don't
you pey us, a' visit? or, better still, come and
live here. By the. way--'.
Hey, look at
the time! Who's next?
MARGARET:
Jook Murphy. Bull's Eye's the same as you,
really. Hé couldn't make a good life here, 80
he ran away.
JOENSON:
Jock Murphy?
MARGARET:
Solder-man.
Production department.
JOENSON:
Has he been up before?
MARGARET:
No. Bifty-one years old.
Three children.
Been here since 1918.
JOHNSON:
One of dad's original oustomers! : All right!
Exit MARGARET.
JOHNSON opens door to JOCK MURPHY.
JOHNSON:
Oome in, Mr Murphy. Just said to my w fe,
'One of my dadds original oustomers'! Been
with us since 1918, that right?
MURPHY:
That's s right, sir!
JOHNSON:
Sit down, won't you? Now then. You're in
Production, aren't you?
MURPHY:
No, sir. I'm on the main door. Telephones.
JOHNSON::
Telephones? What the devil'e this, then?
Says here Broduction8, plain as your finger.
Solder-man.
MURPHY:
That was tuelve or fourteen years ago.
JOHNSON:
Good God! We're not that out of date, I
hope! Anyway, I'11 see to the file later.
Well, Mr Murphy, how are things downetairs?
MURHHY:
All right, sir. Mustn't grumble.
JOHNSON:
I expeot you've heard about my pet little
scheme, haven' t you? I want to know what's
on people's minds. You never know, a man might
have something on his mind, and a word here or


thero might clear it up.
MURPHY:
That's right, sir.
JOHNSON:
And what about your mind, Mr Murphy? Any-
thing on it?
MURPHY:
Not that I can say, sir.
JOENSON:
Well, you-know where to come if anything crops
up. I treat this first interview as an introde
uction. Juet a hand-shake.
MURPHY:
That'e right, sir. How' s the old Mr Johnson,
is be keeping all right?
JOHNSON:
Fine! He's beyond it now, as I expect you
realise. He's past eighty, you know.
MURPHY:
I oan renemb er him when Iwas a boy, eir.
He used to fly round.
JOHNSON:
He'd still like to, if he could! Ke have to
keep an eye on him!
MURPHY:
You've taken over now, have you, eir?
JOHNSON:
That's right.
MURPHY:
I can hear the old Mr Johnson in your voide,
sir.
JOHNSON:
You can? Weli, like father, like son, as
they say!
MURPHY:
That's right, sir!
JOHNSON:
So there's.nothing on your mind at all? No
probl lem? No little worry?
MURPHY:
No, sir.
Not that I can say.
JOHNSON:
Well, you know where to come if there 1s.
And iil get this file straight.
MURPHY:
Right you are, air. Well, regards to the
old Mr Johnson.
JOHNSON:
He'11 remember you for sure! One of the Old
Conte emptibles!
MURPHY:
That's right! Well, good-morning, sir!
JOHNSON:
Good morning!
Exit MURPHY.
JOHNSON rings for MARGARET, and she enters.
JOHNSON:
What the hell's this? Saya he isn't'a solder-
man at all. He's on the main door, telephones.
HARG ARET:
What?
JOHNSON:
He ien't in Production at all.
MARGARET:
That's funny. (Looking at files) He's on
Produotion' 8 pay-roll, either. It says,
'See Personal File.
JOHNSON:
Personnel?


MARGARET:
No, personal.
JOHNSON:
What, the old man's file?
MARGARET:
I suppose 80.
JOENSON:
Look it up.
MARGARET:
Murphy. 'I spoké to Murphy and he was willing
not to register the accident if I could assure
him a position here for the rest of his working
daya, and a pension. Iput him on the telé-
phones at the_main door.'
signed by your fath-
JOHNSON:
Good Lord!
What accident?
MARG ARET:
That's all it says.
JOHNSON:
When did 1t happen?
MARGARET:
Fourteen years ago.
JOENSON:
He was alvays so punctilious about these
things.
Anyway, make a note of it.
MARGARET:
It might have been something Bmall.
JOHNSON:
Then I can't understand why there was any
question of regis tration.
All right, that's
another morning!
MARGARET:
I' m getting to hate them nore and more.
JOHNSON:
Well, you could always take a horse out and ride
over the faces of.the poor for a bit of amuse-
ment!
MARG ARET:
Oh, dear, here comes the lunch-time humour!
JOHNSON:
I tell you what, you interview the women while
I do the men! We'd have the men in hacking
Jackets in a week---the Barnely Ridge Electric
Hunt! It'e no good, Margaret, your brain sits
on top of your body iike a weesel on a plun
pudaing. Give yourself up to the 1ife of the
hips and be damned!
MANGARET:
I wish I could!
JOHNSON:
You could always go back home and have Ted
Lowell to tea and do a bit of wild duck-
shooting in the hours of the pearly dew, and
drive round the estate on Saturday morninge,
and have a bit of slap-and-tickle in the 11b-
rary after ainner! You don't shout like you
used to. What 8 gone wrong? You and Ted
Lowell used to atand on opposite sides of the
toom ard bellow at each other---' Hard going
yes terday, I heard!! 'REALLY? 8 Amy's filly
likes 1t Boft!" What was All that hard and
soft business, Margaret, a sort of erotic morse-
code?
MARGARET:
Xou' re more like the old man than you think.
JOHNSON:
It's you who likes him, not me! Anyway, keep
him out of it.
MARGARET:
That's how he killed your mother.


JOHNSON:
Now, ahut up!
Anyway, what_ 8 that got to
do with 1t?
MARGARET:
I mean you can't arrange the world by shere
force of will.
JOHNSON:
Who tries to?
MARGARET:
You do.
JOHNSON:
Do I? Just you listen to this.
He plays over Meadows's- poem again.
MARGARET:
Who'a that?
JOHNSON:
That fellow Meadows. He calls it a prayer.
You see, he comes to me. Fhey come to me
with their troubles. That s not forcing my
will.
Not like the old man.
MARGARET:
It might be our prayer, too.
CU R T A I N.


SCENE: A bungalow at Sea Bells Holiday
Camp.
A month later.
ANNOUNCER:
Your attention, please, folks, attention,
please! First of all, don't' forget that
tonight's Saturday night and Saturday night
ia Carnival night. Tickets as usual at Bay
No. 3. By the way, some people are slipping
up with their number-breges. You'd be sur-
prised how many turn up in the sand every day!
Please wear your badges at all times. For
the benefit of newcomers may I repeat that
your number badge will secure free entrance
to the cinema, pierrot theat tre, dining halls,
beach cabins and ballroom, Tickets for all'
outings, at all timee, Bay No. 3. We always
go to Bay No.3 for tiakets, folks. You luoky
people! I wish I could bé down at the beaoh
on a day like this! And the soothsayers say
it's going to hold, too! Well, folks, we had
two new arrivals last night. They orépt in
after supper and, believe it or not, they were
the annual life of the party, Mrs Meadows, with
her husband, the bard of Barnley Ridge Eléotrio
works. To all those who aren' t acquaint ed
with this famous peir who've been coming here
for the last five yeara and hav e put their
heart and soul into Sea Belle Vaudeville---
by the way, it's on tomoorow night, s0 let's
try and get a full theatre---I repeat, to all
those who don't know them, my adtice is ask
your nearost neighbour, and if he doesn't know
ask his nearest neighbour; Bomebody's aure to
know! sea Bells reloomes
all, new comers
and old-timers alike. mourpa going to havè
what our friends aoross the Ataàntio call a
whale of a, time---yes, sirree! On today' 8
menu there's roast pork, baked potatocs, a dhoice
of cabbage or Brussel sproute, and applé
sauoe; and far afters there's prunes and
oustard. Thank you, folke.
Enter JACK and JULIA MEADOWS.
JULIA:
Rear what he said?
MEADOWS:
Ia that the cheeky one?
JULIA:
Yes. He's keen on me. Ever noticed?
MEADONS:
Everybody's keen on you!


JULIA:
No, but honestly. Do you know what hè said
to me las t night when we got in?
MEADOWS: :
JULIA:
When you w ére signing up in the office. He
said, what about us going on the Dreamboat to-
gether tomorrow night, Mrs Meadows? Did you
ever hear such sauce? Do you know what I
said?
MEADONS:
JULIA:
I said, I would if you could leave your nouth
behind. Xou ought to have seen his face!
It's that moustache! LAke a piece of cat-
fur!
MEADOWS:
You really tell them, don't you?
JULIA:
Kind my coiffeur!
MEADOWS:
Your what?
JULIA:
Hy fur!
TOGETHER:
'There'e nothing like love at first sight---
if it's close---001---and at night!'
ANNOUNGER: Attention, please. Don't forget, folks,
there are the us ual races for kiddies at the
cricket ground after lunch. At three-thirty
we've got the egg-race, at three-forty-five
the three-legged, at four the.high Jump for
under fifteens.
JULIA:
That'a what I'd like to give you---the high
jump!
MEADOWS: Oie gets on your nerves, does he?
JULIA:
MEADOWS:
Go on, you dind him attractive.
JULIA:
MEADOWS:
Sey so!
JULIA:
I say so!
TOGETHER: 'If you cen love an old baboon like me, it
must be---yes it mus t be---because we're
HAPPY AT THE SEA!
MEADOWS;
You do, don't you?
JULIA:
Well, yes, a bit. He'a got such sauge,
if you see what I mean.
MEADOWS:
And you don't get much of that at Barnley
Ridge Electric, do you?
JULIA:
I'd say not!
MEADOWS:
You get brick walls, a quadrangle 11ke a
milipary square, anâ ghosts. Mos tly ghosts.
That' s what we all look like to you, isn't
JULIA:
To me?


MEADOWS:
To you women.
JULIA:
How do you méan?
MEADOWS:
They never give you the glad eye and that sort
of thing over at Barhley Ridge, do they? They
shoot quick glances: faoe-bosom-lege; up again,
legs-bosom-face; awitch off; pass along the
conveyor-belt; oup o' tea's coming up; dirty
pieoe of relay-wire there, report to shop stew-
ard. But you women are different. You're
Boft. Look at those arms. And feel what a
lot of cheek there 1s to pinch. Why, you' re
lovely, you're gorgeous,
extravagant with
flesh, old sweet. epbRrIosOCe s becase you've got
time flowing through you: every day, things can
grow inside you 1ike flowers, thoughta and all
that; you can wander in and' out of yourself,
take a stroll
and down your ONn
whereas I've goE to stay an the tracke noenesi the
time, and take alittle peek-o outside when
nobody's looking. I've got to be on the qui
vive all the time.
JULIAS
On the what?
MEADONS: :
Qui vive!
JULIA:
What's that?
TOGETHER: :
MEARRNSX
'You know what I mean when I talk french,
darling. It means I'1l never learn to quench
my love, darling!"
JULIA:
People' d think wo vere crackers, HO uldn' t they?
MEADOMS:
And they d be right. I am. When I owim and
look up at the sky like we did this morning I
feel crackers.
JULIA:
How do you méan?
MEADOWS:
I feel the sunshine and the sea are Bene, and
I'm - a little white, peculiar thing floating
about and belonging nowhere.
JULIA:
And what am I?
MEADOMS:
You're all right.
JULIA:
How do you mean, I'm all right, and you're not?
MEADOWS:
You' re eane. Your body's sene. You 8 eem
all right with the sun and water and all that.
JULI. A;
Yea, the men are funny at Barniey Ridge.
MEADONS:
As if something got behind their faces and
twisted up their skine, and put something round
their eyes to make them smaller. Don't you
feel that?
JULIA:
MEADOWS:
Ae if something got inside their bodies and
told them all the wrong movements? Come on,
try, Julia!
JULIA:
Are you like that, then?
MEADOWS:
An I?


JULIA:
You move all right.
MEADOWS:
Let' s put it this wey---do I move like the
others?
JULIA;
Yes. No, not really!
ANNOUNCER: Attention, please, folks. First prize in
yes terday' s raffié went to Mrs Willcox of
Cheam, and second prize to Mr Jameson who
hails from Courtney Suffolk.
Thank you,
folke!
JULIA:
But I coulan't say what the difference was.
MEADOWS:
Try.
JULIA:
It's that extra little bit of---I don't know!
MEADOWS:
Haven't any of them got it, too?
JULIA:
Well, yes. The shop-steward in Speciality
Products has. He'a a real good-looker. But
it 1sn't that.
MEADONS:
Then you do see what I mean. I'msure you do.
It's something secret, isn't it---
JULIA:
Yes, it puts you all of a tis-Was!
MEADONS:
But not a'tis-Was strange, a tis-Nas lovely,
JULIA:
That's right!
MEADOWS:
It' 8 something you can' t see, it's in the dark,
but the light sh OWS you where it 18.. Tell me
its neme.
JULIA: :
I couldn't!
MEADONS:
Love! That's the name. In some men you can
still see it, intreir bodies, sort of Pasy-come,
easy-go bodies.
And in the.others it 8 gtot
all closed
and 1t won't stay in the body
any more, 1: afraid. One day it might get
in me, too. It started getting in me on a68-
embly work, like a piece of steel--
JULIA:
No! Talk about s ometbing else quick. They
say that shop-abeward drinke. Leads his wife
a hell of a dance.
MEADONS:
You can see it in his eyes. It's a ary look.
Skin's 1ike parchment. He can get all the
girls he 11kes wi th his looks, bgt they feel
they've had the blood sucked out of them af ter-
wards.
JULIA
How do you know?
MEADOWS:
It's written in the sky over Barnley Ridge
Electric. Voices have told me over the reday-
wires.
ANNOUNCER: Here's a further announoement, folks. Talk
of the devil--remember I was talking about that
life of the party Just now, end her bardic hasbn
husband? Well, here a a visitor for them.


You see how popular they are? wili Mr
or Mre Meadows trip along to the office and
piok him up? He's rolled up in one of the
very lates st Alfe-Romeos!
And he's oalled
Mr Johnson!
JULIA:
Who?
MEADONS:
Mr Johnson?
ANNOUNCER:
I'11 just repeat that. There's a
by the name of Mr Johnson waiting in Asentlenen the
ice and would Mr or Mre Meadows please come
along and piok him up? Blimey, I haven't got
to say it again, Bave ** 1? Thank you, folks!
JULIA:
Mr Johnson? Who's Mr Johnson?
MEADOWS:
You mean to say you don't know?
JULIA:
Oh, I couldn't!
Not the Mr Johnson?
NEADOWS:
Must be!
JULIA:
But not the the Mr Johnson?
MEADOWS:
The-the himself.
Must be.
JULIA:
Yes, but---he can't! Here, quiok, I've got
to get dressed!
Take him down to the beach
or something!
KEADOWS:
You're a anob.
JULIA:
Well, I might be, but just you keep him out of
here while I get dressed.
MEADOWS:
He might like to see you in your heach-wear,
Julia. They day he takes after his dad.
JULIA:
Fanoy Mr Johnson coming down here to Bee us!
MEADOWS:
He' 8 got a house up the road, that's why.
Small plaoe with seventy-thrée rooms.
Exit JULIA.
Enter GODFREY JOHNSON.
MEADOWS:
Blimey!
JOHNSON:
Surprised? Never forgot you, you see?
I thought I'a walk over. Théy told me your
hungalow. Embarrassing chap that, at the
door. Has a voice that carries. Do you
mind me walking in 1ike this?
MEADOWS:
JOHNSON:
"dive us this day--
Remember?
MEADONS:
Yea!
JOHNSON:
Well, how are you?
MEADOWS:
Fine, sir! Won' t you sit down?
JOHNSON:
No eirs down here, please.
MEADOWS:
My wife went into a blue panic when she heard


you were coming. She' s getting into a dreas.
JULIA (from the other room) Jack!
MEADOWS:
I said you'd probably prefer her as she was!
JOHNSON:
I'm sure she's charming in any dress!
MEADOWS:
She 1s, Mr Johnson. Well, what a surpris e!
You could have knocked me down with a reather
when your name came over the speakere! Then
I thought, Oh, yes, Mr Johnson lives just up the
road, what was it you oalled it, Mr Johnson,
Devii 8 something or other?
JOHNS ON:
Devil'a Brig. And we alvays used to oall old
Maughley Bay Devil's Reach.
Sort of family
name!
MEADOWS:
Go on! What a lot of devils!
JOHNSON:
That's right. Yee, I suddenly got an 1dea.
I'11 go XAd over and see old Meadows. I knew
you were on holiday. I was having a chat with
Personnel about you, and they told me.
MEADOWS:
Oh! Those boys -are real seers, aren't they?
Know everything!
JOHNSON;
I can tell you something, Mr Meadows---I don't
want to tank shop, lovely day 11ke this, but
there never was a bad Personnel report about
you.
MEADOWS:
do on!, Are you sure?
JOHNSON:
There's no doubt about it. And I'11 tell you
another fact, which I knew all along. There
1en't a college man in the Personnel section.
MEADOWS:
Oh, well, it's spurred me on all these years,
I suppose. Sad, in a way. Like losing a
dirty old friend.
JOHNSON:
If you've
eye on a place in Speciality
Produots, sot yonT t you apply? It's perfectly
Bimple!
MEADOWS:
Never thought of it!
JOHNS ON:
That'e what I say, you'd
the next ten years
dreaming of Speiciiay paccend and all you've
got to do 1s get an application form.
HEADOWS:
That'a. right. It's funny.
JOHNSON:
I'11 tell you something, Mr Meadows, you're the
first chap in the plant who's really talked to
me. I won't beat about the bush. I'm going to
tell you outright, you're the first working man
I've ever had a conversation wi th.
MEADOWS:
Go on!
JOHNSON:
The first real co nversation. They won't talk
to me, you see!
JULIA (From the other room) He's always been a talker, Mr
Johnson.
JOENSON:
Oh. Yes, indeed, Mre Meadows!


a 7
MEADOWS;
She' 8 a scream! You want to see her on
vaudeville, Mr Johnson!
Enter JULIA.
MEADOWS;
Julia! What have you done that for?
AULIA:
Good morning, Mr Johnson. It certainly is
a pleasure seeing you down here with us!
JOHNSON:
Good morning, Mra Meadowe. I don' t Xax
think your husband exaggerated. Pleanure's
all on my eide!
MEADOWS:
What did I tell-you?
JUDIA:
And you came ali this way to see us?
JOHNSON:
That'a right! I was telling your husband---
well, you heard, didn't you?
JULIA:
That' 8 right! I always listen when I'm next
doors It's silly not to, 1sn't 1t?
JOHNSON:
Oh, I agree!
MEADOWS:
Talk abott soream!
JULIA:
My Jack 6 alwaye been a talker. I knew when
he told*me he was
up for an interview
I said to nyself, EpHf talk the Aind-leg off
a donkey, even if it's the prime minis ter!
MEADOWS:
I took a poem along.
JULIA:
You what?
MEADOWS:
I took one of those poeme along. 'Give us
this day.'
JULIAN .
You didn' t!
JOENSON:
He had me beat for a moment. Wanted to bor-
row my tape recorder! Did you ever hear any-
thing like 1t? Comes to the bose to record
his own vo ioe!
MEADOWS:
Talk about lagh!
JULIA:
I think you've got more sauce than Casanova!
JOHNSON:
Who?
KEADOWS:
The oamp announcer. Always call him Casanova.
JULIA:
You know, the man with the vo'ice!
JOHNSON:
Oh, yes.
MEADOWS:
She told hin to leave it behind last night when
he tried to get fresh!
JULIA:
Well, 1t's a nuisanoe, 1sn't it, Mr Johnson,
when men are alwaye on?
JOENSON:
I agree!
MEADOWS:
You' re a real wire, Julia!
JULIA:
Have we gad you at our Christmas party yet,


Mr Johnson?
JOHNSON:
No. But I.shall be there this year.
With my
wife.
JULIA:
Oh, lovely!
The old Mr Johnson alwaye us ed to
comé!
MEADOWS:
Used to laugh himseir 8 iok!
JULI A:
That's right! Isee your wife sometimes Mr
Johnson, at the works. Such a lonely lady ahe
looks, 80 sad!'
JOHNSON:
She looke Bad?
JULIA:
Well, lovely with it, if you see what I mean.
JOHNSON:
She ian't too keen on : the work.
She won' t
give'it up, either. She must work, and that's
the only work I can offer her.
JULIA:
At the works, you mean?
JOHNSON:
Yea.
JULIA:
She ought to etay'at home, then. Jack said
you' d got a lovely big lake. You wouldn't
cat ch me going to Barnley Ridge Electric 1f I
had a lake and grounds and a butler, Jack aaid,
nd horses and stablea!
JOHNSON:
It's still my father' 8. There's all you could
wish there, that's true.
JULI A:
And she doesn't like 1t? Whet a' shame!
JOHNSON:
Oh, she'a like. it well enoughi It I was there
ali the time.
But our money 8 in Barnley
Ridge Electrio, and without that there wouldn't
be a house, 80 there's no solution, you see!
JULIA:
What a shame!
JOHNSON:
She doesn't 1ike my soheme too well, either.
The interviewing scheme. But your husband's
been a triumph for me, Mrs Meadows.He was the
first chap who réally talked.
And 1t makes
the whole soheme worthwhile.
I do believe, my
dad never really talked to one man in the works.
Just those quick, gruff exchanges employers and
their workmen go in for, if you see what I mean.
JULIA:
Oh, yes! It's better to get down to a nice
taik if you can! And Jack'd talk the hens to
roost, he really would!
MEADOWS:
And now you're here, Mr Johnson, what do you
think about old Sea Bells?
JOHNSON:
Well, haven't seen much of it yet. Tha sea's
all right, but how do you 81 tand these loudspeak-
ers all day?
MEADONS:
Thought you'a say that.
You oan turn them
down. Turn them off if you 11ke, can't you,
Julia?
JULIA:
That's right!


MEADONS:
But then you mies all the news. Privacy's a
matter of the heart, Mr
don't you
think so? It ien't a matter 0007 geography.
JOHNSON:
Well-said!
MEADONS:
How aid I get privacy when I was a boy, with
the radio on and my mum and dad talking across
the tableall
time? But I aid. More so
than now. Sea ts,time 18 all right if you let
yourself go. Just sink in. other people
aren't outside each other in this little wrld,
1f you eee what I mean. Not 1ike in your
JOHNSON:
How do you know about my world? Excuse us,
Mrs Headows, this was our theme las t time.
MEADOHS:
That's right! Well, I use my eyes. In
yourworld you're not joined together ins ide,
not 1ike we are, You're all alone. So I am,
partly. But they're not, outside. Some of
the young ones might be. But most not.
JOHNS ON:
Well, you may be right, dann 1t! We are
alone.
MEADOHS:
Listen to that, Julia! When he says (damn
it!' He's got axx real style, hasn't he?
JULIA:
I think 1t's lovely!
MEADOWS:
Know what they call their house?
JULIA:
KEADOHS:
Devil's Brig.
JULIA:
JOHNSON:
Yes, it'e a supposed to look like a ship.
MEADOWS:
Listen to the way he saye it! Nothing namby-
pamby. Not 11ke some of these boya who shoot
up from college!
JOHNSON:
dod knows where the devil oame from!
MEADOWS:
'God', * 'damn'! It's a soream!
JOHNSON:
They say one of the squires used to play heil
with his tenants,a couple of hundred years ago.
Looke like a ship with two masts---long ohim-
neys, you know. Has to be seen in a mist,
then it really does look like an eerie sort of
brig, especially if some of the windows are
1ighted up, it casts a'shadow on to the mist!
JULIA:
Oh, I couldn't bear it!
JOHNSON:
You'd love it!
MEADONS:
or course, she would. She's only saying.
JOHNSON:
I'd 11ke to invite you both over one day.
JULIA:
You wouldn't!
You never would!
MEADOWS:
She'd love it! Look at her
Mr Johnson.
Now who's the snob here? Look facce that dress


she put on.
All for you. That's exaotly
what she would have done firty years. + ago, a
hundred, two hundred. Women néver change.
That' s what' was trying to tell her when you
came in. And she's right. Her anobbery's
right, Hell, ien't it? You're the boas,
there s no getting away from that. You call
the tune. And I'm one of the pipers.' You
can't get away from that, either. All that
lovely Nonanly sortness realises that if you
11ke, Mr Johnson, I can rise, and that if you
like'I can fall. of course, we've gpt trade
unione, health insurance and all that. But
you' re still the boss. That haen't changed
and 1t never will. Communiam' a be the same,
I always tell the boys that down in Product-
ion, when they' re on about the withering away
of the staté, and anarchy, and all that. I
say, it'd be the eame. He'a be a 8 mmissar,
then. If hé didn't like the shape'of my nose
he could send up a report that I. was a deviat-
ionist, and I' d'be 1iquidated. You've still
got thé boss. Do you know what stabted me on
poetry, Mr Johnson?
JOHNSON:
MEADOWS:
Green fields.
That was my niokname at school.
Meadows, you Bee. You can't get. poetry unless
you've got green fields inside you, Mr Johnson.
JULIA:
What was that one once, about a heath in summer?
MEADOWS:
I remember a heath in summer
When the grass was burned brown
And we turned in the grass in the summer
Knowing we-were slaves of the town,--
that one?
Slaves of the town in the summer,
Cogp in a wheel we can't see,
Let 8 turn in the grass thie summer
And try to imagine we're free!
JULIA:
They juet pour out of him. They always about
prison. Sad. : But he ian't a sad man. Look
at him now.
MEADOWS:
Look at yourself. The ambition of'her life
1s to have her name put up for chair man of the
social committee at Barnley Ridge, Mr Johnson.
When you oome to the Christmas, vaudeville this
year, she'1l be thinking of that. She'll. say,
Come on, Jack, let's give it to them tonight,
Mr and Mre Johnson are there and my name might
go up, you nevèr know!
JULIA:
Well, it's true.. I can't but tell the truth,
can i?
JOHNSON:
And why not? Bettér that someone who w anta it
has it, than someone who begrudges the time.
JULIA:
Well, 1t's trué, it does take time! Rigting
up the atage, and thé catering. 'And there'8
no pecuniary motive!
MEADONS:
No what?
OTGETHER:
'Xou know what I mean when I talk French, dar-
ling; it means I'il never learn to quench my


love, darling!'
JULIA:
Mr Johneon thinks we're mad!
MEADOWS:
It's in bur turn. We do it at Sea
Beals,
too. You know, we add little touches each
time.
JOHNSON;
Oh, yes!
JULIA:
Life 18 Bed sometimes, isn' t it? - You don't
know where you are exactly. It comes over you,
that's what we'often sey. How would 'you like
a swim, Mr Johnson? The sea'B, like a mill-
pond today!
JOHNSON:
Just what I thougtit on my way down. But I've
got nothing with me. Nothing to swim in.
JULIA:
Oh,, that's easy! Bay No. 3'11 fix you up,
won! t they, Jack,? 2urnks Trunks, towels,
bathing caps, dressing gowns, anything nou likef
JOHNSON:
Sounds delightful!
MEADOWS:'
The big mistake, Mr Johnson, 1s to think of work-
ing people as. the same as you only they get lese
money.
Yet they're not 80 different, either! 41
See whet I mean?, 4 Im sure you've got lurking in
your mind somewhere that theworker gets used to
it---because he hasn't been developed like you
have. Don't you say that to yourself? And
you'il bring hi.m out, won' t you? Questions,
sympathy. I bet you never sit down and think,
now what woula I feel like doing finger-dexterity
work?
JOHNSON:,
it's true, to a point. It's beoause I just
cen't imagine myself doing it! Not day efter
day! I Just, can' t imagine it, much as I might
try. And I've. often tried.
MEADOWS:
Just.what Isey. It's never been in your life.
And nor canI imegine
either. Sounds
that, Etther doesn't i4 Yet I've done the chaneyea.
I did assembly work for going on seven years.
Fifty-fivetelephone-relays a day. I did it,
but I can't imagine it. So I'm not so different
from you. Yet I am, See what I mean? You
say to yourself, Well, my mind's been developed,
their' s hasntt. So their's 1s asieep while
they're on the job. It isn't true, Mr Johnson.
They're numb. The mind gets numbed. The same
as yours would..
why I can't imagine do-
ing it. Because inerr nathing to imagine.
So where does that get us? I'1i tell you what.
Stage Two. You: think you're more responsible
$han working people. You've got more respons ib-
ilities. You talk, move about places, you're
always looking round to see what you, can do and
organise something. The worker doean't say any-
thing, does he, he stays inside his work, he
doesn't look after anybody else iike you, he.
reads his paper like a slave in' the morning,
he takes what he gets all the time, peace or war,
1t's all dished up to him, len't it? See what
I mean? Isn't that more respone: ible, what you've
got?
JOHNSON:
I've got more responsibilities on my shoulders,


yes. Well, it's obvious.
A worker' 8 got
himself and his fanily to look arter. I've
got about two thousand workers, and a few other
concerns as well.
MÉADOMS:
Just what I say! See, Julia? If I've got
fifteen chicken runs to look arter, I'm fifteen
times as reaponsible as a man with one! It
doesn't make sense! Suppose I let all my chick-
ens get fowl-pest, and let them tread each other
to death? Am I still difteen times as responsi-
ble? Suppose the fellow with one chicken-run,
just five or six capons and a couple ol hens,
suppose he looks after them and goes down to have
a look at them four or five Kimea a day? Supp-
oBe he gets eggs as big as your fist, double
yolkers, and the man with fifteen runs leaves it
all to somebody else and stinks up the nighbour-
hood with his leavings? Who's more reeponsible?
Logto, Mr Johnson?
JOHNSON:
All right, you've got me floored.
Not quite
what I meant, but Btill---
MEADOWS:
of course I've got you floored. A man can look
after hia wife and two kids, and a little bit of
garden and have more responeibility in hie little
finger than a fellow who oNns a streot-full of
houses. It's 1ike privacy, Mr Jobnaont it
isn'ta matter of geography. People don(t wear
it. You never see it. And here's Stage Three.
Just thought of it. Borry to hurry you along,
Mr Johnson, but why don't you see it? Why don' t
you see this man's responsibility? Becaus e' he
doesn' t show it. Ke doesn't wear it in his talk
1ike you, He doesn't affect other people does
he? He's small, It doesn't
beyond his tiny
little house and his wife and his little bit of
beok garden. But who's to say he's less resp-
onsible for that? And who'a to say he's more
responsible? Me. I'11 aay 1t. He's more
responsible. Here's the reason. Bercuse
he doesn' t show. it. See what I mean? He
doeen't wear it on the outside. It's real res-
ponsibility. It's not' in his brain, you see.
It's an automatic reaction. It'e like having
a heert of gold. It doesn't come out in talk.
You wéar it inside, and. 1t's never seen. See
what I mean? Stage Four. Here's the real
difference between you and the working man.
He doesn't want to organise mything. Really
he doesn't want to.get on. Re's all right as
he 18. He'11 get a better wage a he can.
But he won't le ave his atreet in a hurry, he
won't sort of try and think of himéelf outside
his Job, in another one. That 8 why I never
thought of applying for Speciality Products.
I've got my life already, you see. It woulan't
change my life. What 16 my life? It' a in the
front room at home - it's my wife sitting here,
it's in old Maughley Bay évery year, in my mum
and dad, the canteen of a morning when we go down
for a smoke. Work's not my
you see.
Only the work'a change. But Notel 8 your iire.
I can 8 ee 1t 18. It's underneath all the time.
It's in your mind, working round allthe tbme.
I can feel it whiie you're looking at me. It'a
like, a heart beating inside you. Thoughts---
that' B your 1ife. Butwe're not 1ike that.
We don't make our own lives, if you see what. I


mean. We Gont t make it with thoughts. It's
just there in the morning when you get up, and
you Bort of fall into it everyday. In that
sense we're not reaponsible. We don't make our
lives as we go along. We don't look, outside.
It's the same for ail the workers, Nr Johnson,
all the world over, I don' t care what you say.
They've got real responeibility. To the people
they live with.
JOHNSON:
And what have I'got responslbility to?
MEADOWS:
Thoughts. Happiness of your workers, befpre
you've even shaken hande with them, That' 6
a thought. A better world: that' 8 another
thought. Better output. A worker. doean't
go on 11ke that.
JOHNSON:
No, he leavos it to me.
MEADOWS:
That'e right. But don't you think you don't
heed him for all that. You do. You need him
l1ke he 1s, too. Because if he thought 1ike
you, with all those ideas, - if his brain went
round all the time like yours doea, he wouldn' t
do the work, he wouldn't let hinseir get numbed,
his old brain wouldn't give him any peace. He'a
say the Bame as you, 'I can't imagine nyself do-
ing, not day after day.' But he doesn't think
1ike that. He doesn't think of dey-after-day'.
It's Just now he thinks of. The canteen, the
wife at home, Friday night shopping night, a kip
over the firé Rtanxady Bapurday aft ernoon. It's
not day after day. That' a a thought. See what
I mean? See what I mean, Julla?
JULIA:
Yes, weli, I do, - sort of!
MEADOWS:
There' S a good girl. Xou want a swim, don't
you, duok?
JULIA:
Well, I would, yes!
MEADONB:
That'e right! See what I mean, Nr Johnson?
You think you can change the working man with
higher Wages and all that, you think you can get
that mind un-nuabed. Xou can't! He's
ambitions. Good thing for you he Laoi.por
He wouldn't do the work otherwise! So don't
try endget his mind un-munbed too much, hecause
he'll lay down his tools! Butxdanktx But he
isn't a sorap less olever than you are for that,
and he lan't less reappne ible. He doesn't have
ideas 1ike you. That's the only difference.
He hasn't got these organis ing ideas.
JOHNSON:
If 1t's true tha t you've got no ambitions, why do
you want to get into Speciality Produots?
MEADOWS:
To be under the soientists. It's just a fad.
It 1sn't the money. It'é Just the feel of 1t.
Do you see what I mean? But then agein, I'll
tell you something, Mr Johnson. I'm different.
Perhaps they're all getting like me. Perhaps
we' re all on $hr move! But I'm one of those
people the middle . olasses are made out of!
JOHNSON:
MEADOWS:
I don't feel at home with the boye any more.


I'm looking out all the time. That's. a bit
of ambition starting, I suppose. The front
room 8 started to feel 8 tuffy to me.
JULI. A:
How do you mean there, Jack?
MEADONS:
It'a all right, auck!
It's 1ike waking
it'e a bad woria I'm waking up to, but I aRitt
myself baok to sleep again, if you see what
PuE mean. I'm the sort that goés to Amerioa and
never thinke of the old country again, I fall
for all the gadgets and the demooratic polite-
nese and. the feeling I don't have to touch
to anybody. I know it's a lot of rot, "ut
26, 11ke, a kind of seed in: me, if you see what
I mean.
JOHNSON:
You're very al ear about yourself, aren't you?
MEADONS:
I've got to be.
As I say, onçe awake, you
oan't go to eleep again. Xou've got to think
it out.
JOHNSON:
And suppose all the world lacked ambition,
including people like me?
MEADOWS:
It'd be all right. We wouldn't have this
sort of Morld. But life'd go on. What"s
thinking, Ht Johnson? It'a just a speck on
the worid! We're just alive. We haven' t got -
to push it along ali the time with our thoughte.
That a all ambitions are,---thoughts. It doesn't
need;our thoughts, you sée, not to get going.
Lare' 8 already thére. But that scares you a
bit, doesn't it? You like to have it clear -
You don't want to close your eyes and Just get
moved along.
You like to see where you're
going.
JOHNSON:
Yee. I'm scared of the dark. Men do wioked
things in the dark. Ever notioed that?
MEADOWS:
Do they? You can abolish the dark but they'11
do it in the light just the same, if they're go-
ing to do it at' all.
JOENSON:
You can talk 11ke that because your mother and
father refused to live in the dark any more.
They star ted protecting themselves againet
people like my father.
MEADOWS:
That's right.
JOHNSON:
And now - their 2ivee are clear.
MEADOWS:
And the heart'e gone out of it.
You can change
Barnley Ridge Electric as much as you 1ike, Mr
Johnson, you oan give me air-condirioning and
lovely lavatories and a reoreation-room and
holidays with pay, but that work' 11 never be. quite
right, it'11 never. be quite right to sit down
in that aesembly room turning out difty-five
relays in a day, I. don't care what, you Bay.
There'1l always be something wrong with 1t.
Just take the achedule---eloking in and clock-
ing out-w-
JOHNSON;
We. can change the achedule. We oan reduce the
hours of work. We're trying to all the time.
MEADOWS:
Why, 1f the work's s0 oongenial? Work's good


for a man, they sayt
something wrong
with that' work, you know Theroyen
why you
want to out it' down. And trt you
can't bear, Mr Johnson. You. can't bear the
idea that hothing's going to solve the
short of rolling up the whole thing. groiente You
bear the thought that it's all wrong, from top
to bottom, can you? What, ali thds e buildings,
and peoplé with big desks, and millions of mon-
ey, how can' all that be wrong? But why not?
Why shouldn't the whole world go w rong?
JOFNSON;
Where would it get us toisay so? Into a rath-
er lonely position, that all:
MEADONS:
Exactly! You don't 1ike the 1dea any more than
your father did! Because 1t's your world.
You' say, Where would the. truth get us?' You dontt
seem to care 1f it is the truth or not. I'm
Just saying what the truth is. And you heve
to ask all the time, Where will it get us?
Will it do us any good? And that's ambition.
That'ws what I mean by ambition. : It's behind
everyone of your thoughts. You can' t think
without it! It's what you mean by thinking.
You mean thinking what to do. And I mean say-
ing the truth. You oan' Tet go of the world
and say, 'It's all rot!' You've got yo have
your nose in it all the time, organising. But
I can. It's a! kind of rélier. I
it's
a lot of rot. Then I can say, All
want to live, I'11 aink nyself in a bit
rot.
means
twisting myself up a bit, but it's got
to be done.
JOHNSON:
Doesn't that mean, I agree to be rotten?
MEADOWS:
No, no! The work doesn' touch
you see!
The work doesn't touch us? ouch.re, where you' re
wrong. There you are again.. Ambition again.
You'd have to think to yourself, All right, I'i1
go rotten! There'd alwaye havé to be a thought
in your life, always something deliberate, you
couldn't get away from it!
JOHNSON:
And my work's rot, too?
MEADOWS:
Nes, of course! But you won't let yourself
see'it! You oling to it. I don't. I've
got my life. Hy work. len't my life.
JOHNSON;
So we all become little selvea balieving in
nothing, only hos rotten everything is outside?
MEADOWS:
Oh, po! It's no good being a little self.
That's your world! That' a what I said just
now people aren't Joined-together in your
worid. You're all little individuals. Not
in my world. Hhen I say my 11fe I mean the
other man' a life, too, it's the same in my
world! We're aii joined together underneath.
We've got the same heart---the same thoughts,
almost.
JULIA
Yes, it's funny, weiseem to accept things more.
MEADOMS:
There you are. She'a got it. Trust a woman.
It's accepting things. People don't stiok out
of themselves in our world. But in your world
people have got to make conversation all the


time, haven't they? - They've got to be SOC-
iable. I've noticed it. In our world it
just comes. Yet we. make it as well. It'e
funny. We. aren't thinking. That8s the diff-
erence.
ANNOUNCER: Attention,.please. Just a reminder---on today' 8
menu there 8 roast pork, baked potatoes, a
choice of Babbage or Brussel sprouts, and apple
sauce; and for afters there's prunes and cust-
ard. Now there are still a lot of unoollected
tickets for tonight's dinner---there'1l be a
srecial sitting et five-forty-five for those
lucky people who've. booked for the Dreamboat.
The Dreamaboat leaves Bouth Pier at E*IkaNR
mikutes a quarter to seven prompt. Will all
Moonlight Dreamers pleaso remember to take
woollies. along, it gets chilly out at sea when
the sun goes down? The Dreamboat dodke again
at 1.20. tomorrow morning, and. the Dreamers can
dream in bed until nine-thirty if théy want to,
there'll be a special late sitting for break-
fast, until ten o' clock. Well, that' 6 about all,
folks.
Bon appetit, that's French for have a
good blow-out! And may I remind you that the
clearance bays are open all day for queries?
Thank you, everybody!
JULIA:
The Drcamboat's lovely, Mr Johnson. You. look
over the side. It feels like gliding, doesn't
it, Jack?
MEADOWS:
That's right.
JULIA:
They switch the engines off. Right out at sea,
and you oan see the 11ghts of Kaughley Bay!
And there's glass underneath in one of the oabins,
and. you. can see the fish through. You get a.
lovely supper. Rmember, Jack? 'our faces'?
MEADOWS:
'Our faces in the water
Shake when there's wind---' I can't remember
1t, duck.
JULIA:
No more can II It's about the Dreamboat, Mr
Johnson!
MEADOWS:
'Shake when there's wind...'
Well, Mr Johnson,
bave I given you gomething.to think about thia
time?
JOHNSON::
Oh, yes,-you've done that!
It's partly why I
came.
I expected it.
JULIA:
He's a marvellous talker, really. He tells me
thinge I never knew about myself. Shall we
book for the Dreamboat? All of us? Let's!
JOHN SON:
What, me as well?
MEADONS:
Why not?
JOHNSON:.
It's BO- late!
MEADONS:
We'll give you lunch And show round Sea Bells.
I'm not scared 6f you like I wad.
JOHNSON;
You were scared?
MEADOWS:
Oh, yes!
JOHNSON:
It's true. it's a Sad life.
Scaring neo nle


before I start.
JULIA:
It's because he's talked, Mr Johnson. Once
he's-talked hinself out, he's never scared.
JOHNSON:
All right, I'1l strike a bargain! I've come
into your world. You come into mine: We'll
go on the Dreamboat. Then we'il drive to
Devil's Brig and you'1l stay the woek-end!
JULIA:
JOENSON:
Yes! I won' t hear you say no!
MEADOWS:
All right. Fair's quits!
JULIA:
Jack!
JOHNSON:
It's done! You'1l both come out with me!
JULIA:
But we couldn' t, Mr Johnson! The house is s0
big, from: what they Bay!
JOHNSON:
Well; it's a new experience for you.
JULIA:
And think of the trouble! To your wife!
JOHNSON:
Servanta! You see, none of your objeotions
hold!
JULIA:
I've got nothing to wear!
MEADOWS:
She's arguing with herself, Mr Johnson, that's
all. Give her time.
JULIA:
And Jack can't dreas for dinner. He hasn't
got one!
JOHNSON:
We hardly ever dress for dinner, unlees the
old man oomes down.
JULIA:
The old man?
MEADOWS:
The old Mr Johnson.
JULIAt
Well, there you are, that dettles it, we
couldn't!
JOHNSON:
But he doesn't bite, Mre Haadows! He might
come down after dinner. But Sunday nights he
usually stays upstaire with his whisky.
JULIA:
But, Jack, I wouldn't know which knife and fork
and that sort of thing!
MEADOWS:
Well, here's your chance to learn.' You'a think
she was scared, wouldn' t you? I'm the one who's
scared. She'il carry 1t through like a queen.
JOHNSON:
There'll be nothing to carry through, nothing Y
intimidating! You might even find us jolly
people!
JULIA:
All right, then!
MEADOWS:
She's said it.
JOENSON:
There! You've made me happy.
Now we can go
for a swim!
JULIA:
I'm all of a tremble!


MEADOWS:
You' re a woman.
Netural reoerves, eh, Mr
Johns on?
JOHNSON:
That's right!
MEADOWS:
I can' t remember those lines. 'Our faces
in the water---
JOHNSON:
Théy'11 come-to you, I expect.
JULIA:
Here are your thinge, Jack. Lot's go for a
ewim. It feels so funny.
JOHNSON:
What?
JULIA:
Being with you!
Exeunt.
ANNOUNCER: Attention, please, folks. May I remind you
to wear your number-badges at ali times, please?
They're still turning up in the sand! Please
vear your badges at all times. For the bene-
fit of newd comers may I repaet that your number-
badges will secure free entry to the oinema,
pierrot theatre, dining halls, beach-oabins,
and ball room. Thank you, folks!
CUR T A I H


SCENE: A room in Devil's Brig, the following
evening.
Enter MARGRET AND JULIA.
JULIA:
You look over the 8ide, and you can see your
faces in the wat ser. it's ever 80 lovely! -
What do you think of us being here, Mrs John-
son?
MARGARET:
We lead aifferent kinds of lives, I'd Bay.
We don' t really mix. It's another of my
husband' 8 big ideas. Am I too frank?
JULIA:
Oh, no!
MARGARET:
Do 6it down.,
JULIA:
It'a the meri make the differenoes. If it wes
left to the women there wouldn' t be any.
MARGARET:
There'a juat be naked power.
JULIA:
How do you mean?
MARGARET:
There'd only be the simple things. Rooms,
roads food. Nothing to dream about. But
then they say I've got a manouline turn of
mind.
JULIA:
Have you got any omldren, Mre Johnson?
MARGARET:
JULIA:
Why not?
MARGARET:
They Just heven't come. My husband does n' t
seem very keen, either.
JULIA:
Why nott
MARGARET:
He said to me once, Animals in captivity don' t
breed.
JULIA:
Animals?
MARG ARET:
That's us.
JULIA:
But you aren't in oaptivity.
You're free.
Look at this bouse.
MARGARET:
We could be free. So oould we all. I could


A a
run off with Ted Lowell. Ho' 6 in love wit th
me. But I don't.
JULIA:
Has he said so?
MARGARET:
Oh, yes.
JULIA:
He really smello of horses, doesn't he?
MARGARET:
I must tell him that! - He'd be proud!
JULIA:
No, I mean'in a nice way. Very outdoors.
But it wouldn' t do to let go, would it?
MARGARET:
In what way?
JULIA:
Let men come it over you. They always will,
given the ohanoe!
MARGARET::
I don't have any temptations like that béoause
I've never really got started with my husband.
I'm wlwaye waiting for that.
JULIA:
Are 7ou, really? But he's ever so nice and
kind! You never know, âo you? You ought, to
have seen him on the Dreamboat last night.
And you're 80 pretty!
MARGARET:
He says he's fed up with my hard moral cere.
I'm from one of thoae country famillen that run
rough-shod over their chiadren. Grew up
rough.
JULIA:
I've sèen you at Barnley Ridge Electric.
You're always alone. It seems so sad. You
ought to come and join in with as.
NARGARET:
I'a make everyone uncomfortable.
JULIA:
He got interested in Jack. It was the poems.
And Jack told him about Sea" Bells. Hasn't
that funny?. I nearly went through the floor
when I heard Casanova Bay over the blower---
MARGARET:
Who's Casancta?
JULIA:
The announcer at Sea Bells. He's keen on me.
That's why I say it wouldn't do to let go.
Well, all of a suaden his voice comes, through
saying that Mr Johnson' 8 waiting for us at the
gate! But it doean't seem s0 atrange now.
111 never forget this house. Fanoy having
a lake of your own! And that lovely dinner-
table, with pictures round the wall!
MARGARET:
I'd change over with you any day..
JULIA:
You wouldn' t!
MARGARET:
Yes, I would.
JULIA:
or course, I
you can't get very snug
here. Xou Laspors twinkle your toes at the fire.
MARGARET:
Oh, I've got a 1ittle eneak-hole upstairs.
It's s0 tiny you'd laugh.
JULIA:
They won'tbe drunk, will they?
MARGRRET:
tho?


JULIA:
The men.
MARGARET:
On, no!
They only stay a moment.
JULIA:
I wondered what you taking me outside for!
MARGARET:
It's always been done here. The men like their
port and a bit of manly talk. All except my
husband. He says it's conservative.
JULIA:
But it doesn't seem right.
Sending the women
away!
MARGARET:
The women leave. They aren't sent a ay.
Ny mother always used to tell me that. They
leave to powder their noses and have.a bit of
Nomanly talk. My mot ther was an independent
woman with a clear, forcëful mind. And I
know, nowadays, it'a better to stay with the
men ir you oan and drink their disgusting port,
because the women aren't up to much.
JULIA:
You ought to come to our socials, Mrs Johnson.
You'd have ever such a good time!
MARGAR ET:
I wanted to ask you juet now, do you have any
chlldron?
JULIA:
Oh, no!
MARGARET:
But you will have?
JULIA:
I'm scared.
It's silly, isn't 1t?
MARGARET:
Scared of what?
JULIA:
Scared of having a baby. It's 80 silly in a
woman!
HARGARET:
But what scares you?
JULIA:
I don't know!
It'a just the idea of 1t com-
ing down there!
It doesn't seem right, if fou
see what I mean!
MARGARET:
But where else would it come out?
JULIA:
Well, that's what I
it's eilly. - I oan't
think about it. I toa Jaok, I said, 1 bouldn't
think of having a baby!
MARGARER:
And what aid-he say?
JULIA:
He eaid if fate had a child in mind it wouldn't
ask my permission. But I take all the precaut-
ions! It's ever 80 silly, but I can't think
about 1t!
HARGARET:
Is it the pain?
JULIA
Oh, no! It's just the idea! I tried to explaan
it' to myself one day and I. thought, It's 1ike
mixing up pleasure with, well, lovély little
babies! It doesn't seém right! But it Asn't
that exactly, either. I just oan't think about
MARCARET:
Why shouldn't babies come out of pleasure?
JULIA:
Yes, but you have to look after them, don't
you, and how are you going to do it? And then


you get all the dootore, and that laughing gas
they give you. A woman at Barnely Ridge told
me whenever you feel a twinge you.press the
button and hold 1t over your mout th abd you go
out like a 1ight!
HARGARET:
It is the pain, then?
JULIA:
Na, it ien't! It's 1ike having a lovely little
baby down there---criticising me.
MARGARET:
Criticising?
JULIA:
No, you don't see what I pean. Nobody could
who wasn't me!
And Jack's a man.
MARGARET:
What a funny world
JULIA:
I know you*11 laugh at me and think me not thing!
MARGARET:
Not at all. Let me tell you something. Ido
believe I could talk to you now.
JULIA::
I feel like crying.
MARGARET:
Here are the men.
Enter MEADOWS, TED LOWELL and JOHISON.
LOWELL:
But hard in the mouth, but he moves, Mr Head-
ows!
HEADONS:
Sounda abeauty to me! Hear that, Julia?
Mr Lowell's going to show us round the stables
tonight.
JULIA::
Very nice!
JOHNSON: :
XANEtEx
It's horrible the Nay these two like each other,
Margaret! They've been talking horse all the
way Chrough port. Not that Meadows know the
front from the back' of E horse.
LOWELL:
He' 11 learn. Evéryone of them's an individ-
ual, eh, Mr Keadows?,
MEADOWS:
That's right.. I've always loved hors es.
LOKELL:
What I always teli the squire hero---they're
just like people, only they run faster and eat
hay.
JOENSON:
Noble sort of people, of course?
LOWELL:
Of course! He'a pulling my leg, Mrs Meadowe!
JOHNSON:
And forGod's sake don't call me 'squire'! I
can't etand it!
LOWELL:
He thinks it's old-fashioned.
JOHNSON:
Thank Chriat for the women, anyway, they! 11
talk to me. Well, I never thought Barnley
Ridge Electrio' a mix w ith the local hunt! That
I could never. have foreseen.
MEADOWS:
It's just liking hors sen, that's all.
JOHNSON:
You've never been up on one!
You seid so your-
self.


MEADOWS:
I just like hearing him talk.
JOHNSON:
Hear that, Lowell? I don't believe you've
heard that caid in this house before!
JULIA:
It' s the 8 ame with me.
LOWELL:
I'm proud to hoar you say it.
JOHNSON::
There's something you've always. overlooked,
old
People are aifferent from hore es, -
Charoreio getting away from it! Mind you,
a nose e-bag now and agaan---I keep one nyself
upa tairs in the bedroom---but not all the
time!
JULIA ,
Your husband's a real leg-pull, ien't he,
Mrs Johnson?
LOUELL:
It's like the aquire-thing, Mr Meadows. He's
touchy about it. Know why? Beoause.he's a
squire. What I always tell him. He's got
tenants, he's got a farm, he's got a manor-
house and a steward. That' 6 a aquire. But
he won't have it.
JOHNSON:
You always come out with that his torical s urvey
when we've got guests, don' t you? His conver-
sation never
Meadows. Zou see, the
hora ec he talks Ssreaare to
t---well, they' ré not
frightfully interesting, if you sée what I mean.
I told him at the outset, Iraid, Lowell,
these horses. simply eren't your ievel. Theg
aren' t talkers, Isaid.
what he said?
Johnson, he saia, don't be 50 intellectual
snob!
LONELL:
Hors e3 are famous talkers, that'a another, thing.
JOHNSON: :
Buto-
LOWELL:
w-you've got--
JOHNSON:
-to know- their language! That's right. Now
finish.it: I And with a little pride---
LOWELLA
I think I can say I do.
JOHNSON:
Well-dcne!
MARGARET:
It's true that he can talk to horses. I've
seen him owitoh a horse in the middle of a Jump
without moving a msole.
JOHNSON:
Tricky fence, was it?
MARGARET:
Yes.
JOENSON:
Rather!
Know how he aid it? Talked through
his arse! What I've alwaye eaid!
JULIA:
Oh, Mr Johnson, you' re a scream! In a big
house, too!
NEADOBS:
He's a opark, 1sn't he?
MARGARET:
Yes, they're a ribald family.
JOHNSON:
Listen to Lowell's laugh. It's the origanal
horse-laugh.


MEADOWS:
Cards, the whole lot!
MARCARET:
My husband won't go near thé st ables, Mrs
Meadows.
He only keeps them for'me.
JOENSON:
And Lowell, of course..
LOWELL: -
Well, I seriously believe he does, sonetimes.
JOHNSON: -
of course, I do! I càn't see animals suffer,
Margaret. He haen't got a penny to his name,
have you, Lowell? Lives with his father in an
old barn.
Least I can do is to give him a ride!
LOWELL:
All true enough!
MARGARET:
But one thing' you won't do, Godfrey, and that'e
play the squire, eh?
JOHNSON:
That'e right.
MARG ARET:
It might make everything fit together.
LOWELL:
that beats me is why there can't be modern
squires. The land' s still got to be farmed,
there's atill got to
keepere, and I dere say
poachers, too. storbe. got to be farmers'
JOHNSON:
Oh, no more, for Christ's Bake! We gét it
every time a visitor oomes, Meadows.
LOWELL:
Dairymen---
JOHNSON:
And men to look after the timber!
LOWELL:
You' ve still got to have it, I don't care---
JOHNSON:
-HoN mechanised you get!
LOWELL:
Isn't it true? The tradition's gone, it went
out a couple 'of hunaned years
really,
but you've still got to sit dppectairal of'a
Saturday morning and go through the accounts,
eh, Mag?
JORNSON:
That's right, now oall,her 'Mag!! of all
abbreviated names. that's about the worst!
MARGARET:
Rhymes with 'hag', 'bag', 'sag'.
JOHNS SON:
Now you've started her hating herself.
LOWELL:
It's just intimate.
I've always eaid 'Mag'.
MARG ARET:
Godfrey doesn't any aort of label. That's why
he hates to hear 'squire'. He 1s a squire,
but the name frightens -him.
JOHNS CN:
I'm a fake equire. Mine's a commercial family.
It's been counting the sheoklea for three or
four generations. When my grandfather came
into thie house he did 'ao because the squire's
initiala were the same:ae his own and they were
engraved all.over the church pews. That's
what I calla fake squire. Ho made his money
out.of sweated mill-labour.
LOWELL:
He didn't inherit this placa, that's true.


But you aid.
KARARET:
That's a ounning argument.
JOHNSON:
But my work's in the modern world, Lowell.
LOWELL:
Bo are horses. More interest in horees now
than ever there was, eh, Mr Headows' ? Riding
sohools in all the new towns, people have got
money in their. pookets nowadays--
JOHNSON:
Well, I do believe *hatxt there is a new mood
in people. Not jus t more money. I could
feel it last night.
JULI A:
You could Bee the enjoyment in his face, Mre
Johndon!
MARGARET:
He usually wakes me up if he comes back late.
But last night he got into bed like a saint.
JOFNSON:
It's atrange. We just floated along and the
band was playing. Most of us were downstaire
in the cabin, sitting on benches along the side,
with oil-lamps ewinging in the middle. You
could bardly see aoross the room. Full moon.
We could just see it through the portholes.
That right, Meadows?
MEADOWS:
That's right!
JOHNSON:
I even danoed with a strange lady.
JULIA:
Oh, I waen't going to oay---!
JOHNSON:
It was the ladies' invitation waltx. She
oame acrose and gave Meadowe a look first.
Then she asked me. It wasn't touching or any-
thing xtke of that kind.. It was simpiy extra-
ordinarily simple and natural. That's all I
can Bay. But 1t waen't natural in our sense,
either---it waen't relaxed or what ne oall spont-
aneous. ahe was even a bit nervous. She Was
strained. She bit her 11p. I don't know why
she asked me. I think, to put me at my ease.
She could see I waon't a. res: ident at sea Behle.
Perhaps she knew already. It was 80 wonder-
fully comradely---I hate the word, but I wonder
if you see what I mean, Lowell? There wasn't
any sex or vanity in it. Yet ahe had
She was Just natural and equal to
and Rcia
never felt anything quite like that afin my 11fe,
while I danced with her. And I didn't see her
again. I dian't really think of her as a single
person. I didn't Bay to myself that she was
atmactive, or nice to know. She was the whole
room for
all the boat as it floated along,
and the band atopped, and everybody talked in
a kind of homely undertone, as if there wasn't
any danger in the world and couldn't ever be.
It seemed such a wonderfully safe and snug
world! I hadn't realised before.
MRADOWS:
That'e right. He's got it word for word.
JOHNSON:
And I do believe they really did talk to me
as an equal, the men as well. They didn't Jump
when Meadowé Baid I was his boss. That's a
big change of € urse, from the old man s world.
But I felt Bo oosy. I aidn't have to"make an


effort. It'a true, Meadows, one dopan't
have to think in that world. There 8 a kind of
hum underneath everything.
It's a kinder
world,
MEADOWS:
Oh, it oan be oruel, don't you worry, people
let their tongues go sometire 8-
JOHNSON:
Yes, but I mean it's kinder to the nerves.
One can't. aee it from the outside, from their
faces, if you just see them at the works.
Meadows gave me long epeeahes a nanktk short
time ago about the Fborjoyks' Lowell, and I
dian't quite know what he meant.
LOWELL:
Borjoys?
JOHNSON:
He means us. And I thought at the time, It's
the old envious talk about a higher olass with
more money in it a pooket. But that len't
true. Really, he was talking about a aifferent
state of life---it's a different kind of ner-
vous ayatem, almost, that we don't know any-
thing about.
MEADOWS:
Juet as they don' t know anything about your
1ife, either. They don' t 8 oe what it is to
make life out of thoughts.
JOHNSON:
That's another thing he says. Making life
with-thoughts. Their' 6 just hums on. But
we've got this investigating quality. We're
searching life all the time. We think that's
how everybody lives. It lan't. Partly, I
eee what he means. But I can't alter myself.
MEADOWS:
That's what I say, you can't put the brain to
sleep again, after it, been woken up.
LOWELL:
Well, to tell the truth, I've-never been muoh
of a brain---
JOHNSON;
No, my dear old ohap, perhaps we shouldn' t
include you. Your mind s been asleep for
generations back, hasn't"it? Xou're a real
equire, old ohap!
MEADOWS:
You can see heien't a borjoy, not a pooper
one.
LOWELL:
I alwaya thought that was a dog.
JOHNSON:
It's Frenah. Means middle-cless, old ohap!
LOWELL:
Oh, I sée!
MARGARET:
I wondered what it was!
LONELL:
Well, they say we're all middle olass now
adaye, don' t they?
JOHNSON:
Well, as long as the horses don't ohange, my
dear' fellow!
LOWELL:
That's right! It'a be awful if they got ideas
WB well, wouldn' t it?
Enter MR JOHNSON.
MEADOWS:
Blimey!


JOHNSON:
Well, hullo, there, father, how are you?
Come in!
MR JOHNSON: Thank you.
Thank you very much. Nice to
be invited into me own house. You always
had a generaous
Godfrey. Like your
mother. Your inuey. been eohoing through
the house all day, Lowell. Who the devii's
this?
JOHNSON:
That's Mr Meadowe, air.
You haven't metu
before.
MR JOHNSON: Oh, I'a used to not meeting people in my own
house. I
the company over to you, lad,
but you havelpaneo got the house yet!
JOHNSON:
Fat her---
MR JOHNSON: Don' t interrupt!
You've dapned-well interr-
upted since you were five years old. I've
never met such an incorrigible young-
MARGARET:
Guests, Harry!
MR JOFNSON: Oh, how do you do? Nige-looking young WO-
man! Who 18 it?
JOHNSON:
That's Mrs Meadows.
MR JOHNSON: I didn't aek you. I know you're alwaye ready
with an answer.
MEADONS:
It's my wife, sir.
MR JOHNSON:
I saw you in the corridor this morning,
ama thought to myself, who the devil's that,
another of Godfrey' e week-end
expeot! Who aid you say this oataplanot chap
JOHNSON:
One of your employees, eir.
MR JOHNBON: One of my employees? Haven't got a oompany!
Don't own a. bean! Don't know what you're talk-
ing about. My employees, he saya! I thought
I signed the Iot over to you, sir? Or did you
wriggle out of that one as well?
JOENSON:
He's one of my employees.
MR JOHNSON: Oh, one of youra. Thats different. That's
more 11kely. Beaause, 111 tell you something,
in my day, when I was in oharge of Barnley Ridge
Electric and a dozen other companies as well,
no employee of mine, I don't care what his name
was, or how beautiful his wife Was, ever set
foot in my house!


MEADOWS;
Oh, well, times have changed since then.
Thank God!
MR JOHNSON: You cnn thank Him all right, because you
didn't do anything to bring 1t about your-
self.
MEADONS:
My father did!
MR JOHNSON: Who's your father?
MEADONS:
A solder-man like I was to start with!
MR JOHNSON: Oh. Feldow hore says he's got a fa ther.
Remarkable, isn't:1t?
MEADONS:
He was remarkable.
MR JOHNSON: He carried out a-one-man -
revolution, did. he?
MEADOWS:
No. He helped. a littic bit. Trade unions
and all that.
MR JOHNSON: Oh, I don't mind trade unions. Had a fight
with them in my time. They fought me and I
fought them, and we both played dirty. I
expect you oan imagine that, can't you?
MEADOWS:
Yes.
MR JOHNSON: Thet's right. Well, let me tell you I had
some friends in my dey. Worker oame to me
once and Baid, You're the fir nest employer I've
ever had. How many others have you had, I
said. None, Ixsati he Balde Not much of a
compliment, was it? Thought was going to
tell. you a little how-they-all-loved-me st tory,
didn't you? Wrong. I could trip you up on
a dozen or more other things 11ke that. Xou
cen't meke me out.
MEADOWS:
I didn't say you weren't clever.
MR JOENSON: Yes, you dids You. thought I wan'a danhed old
fooi. That s' what my son thinks. Beonnse I
gave him the*best schooling in the land and a
st table of his own. Ought to. be punished for
that. He and his mum Moulan't speak to me.
Naughty fellow, gave hia Eon the best he co uld
think of. Mustn't do that.
HARGARET:
Godfrey appreciates everything you did for him,
don't you, Godfrey?
JOHNSON;
Oh; Christ;
and; the beatings, too, you
musta't forget hnend, : The number of times I
lay in bed thinking to mysabf, If only he'd
give ne another beating! ' I think I looked
forward to them more than anything in child-
hood! - They, vere Bo unatinted, you know!
Father showed auch a delicate awareness of
childish fears! 1
MR JOHNSON: Clever, isn'tiho?. Has to have his eey.
All right, if you're one of my employees;


which you are in viea of the fact that I
s1 tarted Barnley Ridge Eleotric and susta ined
it through two world wars, what are you exaot-
ly? The fellow wl ho pours the tèa? They tell
me there' 8 a special Job nowadays. If another
fellow touches the pot they go on strike. A
fellow asked for three lumps of Augar ins tead of
two once, and the electrabal indust try was para-
lysed for a month! : Olever, len't 1t?
MEADOWS:
It's marvellousto hear you talk. Anybody'a
wonder where your money came from to keep this
plade up! Not out of oupe of tea, Xr Johnson.
We still do an hour or two's work évery day.
MR JOHNSON: That's good of you. Wear glovee, of course?
MEADOWS:
Sometimes.
Goggles, too. I seem to remember
a man in your worke aidn't wear. goggles once,
and he was blinded for 11f0, and then you weren't t
so generous, were you?
JOHNSON;
What are you talking about?
MEADOWS:
Your fa ther knows. It's comion knowledge down
in the canteen.
JULIA:
Jack!
MARGARET:
What.s corimon knowledge?
MEADOWS:
That thero B a man blinded for lire. And he
didn' t givê him a penny.
MARGARET:
What s his name?
MEADOWS:
Ask Mr Johnson.
JOHNSON:
What_s his name?
MEADOMS:
Jook Murpby's his name.
JOHNSON:
Good God, is that the one---?
MARG ARET:
You'd better change the subject.
JOHNS CN:
I thought he didn't move properly. He felt
for the ohairt He said Bomething about my
voice. I thought that was funny.
MR JOHNSON: Mind if I speak?
MARGARET:
It's past your bed-time, Harry.
MR JOHNSON; A man was blinded in my works?
MEADOWS:
That_s right.
MR JOHNSON: And I didn't pay compensation?
MEADOWS:
That's right.
MR JOHNSON: You'l1 prove that to me, young man. By
God, r11 bring the slander-laws against
you!
SULIA:
There, Jack, you've done it now!
Mr Johnaon: I've paid compeneation for every industrial
accident in every concern of mine. And I'll


be in that office of yours within a week from
now to prove 1t! Meanwhile, we'll keep our
mouths shut. Ladies present. Look at the
wife. She doean't like it when you talk 1ike
that. She'a flattered to be here, aren't you,
ma' am?
MEADOWS:
Hot by you!
MR JOHNSON: Oh, don't you be too sure! I may be old and
ugiy, but they like a bit of gruff authority.
Men haven't got any punch nowadays. You 1ike
this house, don't you, my dear?
JULIA:
Well, I think it's lovely, yes!
MR JOHNSON: Know how much it costs me to keep it up? That
lake out there. It's artifioial. Waan't there
in my dad's time. Look at all these windows.
Takes nearly a week to clean the lot. Think
yo urself lucky to have three. rooms and a kitchen,
my dear, and a husband who pours out tea for the
maases all day.
MEADOWS:
We're oalled by our names now. That's the big
change. We're considered people.
MR JOHNSON: Oh, yes, I forgot! 'The people'! They voté
in eleotions and put the oonservatites in, don't
they? I wonder why they do that? I'11 tell
you, Mr Tea-pot. It's béoa use people like ma
and my dad before me worked themselves to the
bone while all you were doing was claiming higher
wages and new lavatory-pans. I couldn' t afford
to go home at five in the evening and take two
weeke holiday with pay every year. Too much
work to do. Bamley Ridge Eleotric and five
other a mpanies besides would have gone to pot.
Firet time I Bat down and looked at this lake
was when I retired. So you oan put that in
your pipe and smoke it. My wife used to have
week-end guests. Never saw them. Never BaN
my own Bon. Too muoh work!
MEADOWS:
Who asked you to do it, though? Did you do it
for me? If 80, what i get out of it?
MR JOHNSON: Two weeks holiday with pay every year. That'e
two weeke for doing nothing. Very nice! And
it got you more money than you deserve. Pension.
Latrines. Look at your wire' s dress, you
didn't piok that up in the Old Kent Road, did
you, Mr Tea-pot? Tell you another thing.
Know why I'm keeping up this house?
MEADOWS:
MR JORNSON: Not for that fellow sitting over there.
Corr-
idors too long. Gives him corne. Mustn' t do
that. Cruel. The stables are
too,
they make the horses run. Mustn't Aengartinteo do
So who am I doing it for?
MEADOWS:
Not for me, that_e à ail I know.
MR JOENSON: You' re wrong, Tea-pot. That's just who I am
doing it for. I'm. keeping
a monument.
Nothing I'd iike better than "Ehreto rooms and
a kitchen, and a little wife to fluff the dust


off!
Takes me fonrteen minutes to make the
rounde in the moming.
Electrio light bill
comes to about twice your wage. Can't get
servante any more. When you do you have to
oall them sir. If I sold thie place up fa be
a rich man, Tea-pot. But then your wife' 'a come
along and say, oh, don't do that, Mr Johnson,
what'1l happen to the old co untry 1f all the
big houses go? And I'11 tpll you the answer to
that one. The old country d go to pot. There
wouldn't be an old country.* And we must have
an old country, mustn't we, Tea-pot, for hikes
and trade-union outinge?
MEADOWS:
Oh, I, agree there.
JOHNSON:
What, with everything he Baid?
MEADOWS:
More or less.
MR JOHNSON: So in go the oonservatives. No wonder the poor
old 1iberal party got dished. So you give in, n
do you, Tea-pot?
MEADOWS::
No,' I'a never give in to you. What I SAy is,
now you've made a mess of our world, let' 8 try
and save something from before you made the meas,
like this house, for instance.
MR JOHNSON: I made a mess, did I? Listen to me, this house
wouldn't be here 1f 1t hadn't been for people
11ke my dad. Tell you why? Simple. He
bought this es tate from a seedy old squire who
needed the money to drink himself to death.
The country squires weren't looking 80 good
then. They needed new
blood. They were after
money.
And we were making 1t. Your 1ife's
based on that money my lad. This country
became the richest trading country in the world
through people like me.
MEADONS:
Well, to Bay you made a mess of it doesn't mean
the othero .didn't before you', the squires as
well.
MR JOHNSON: Then we're all messers. End of argument.
I'm not suoh a damned fool, after all, am I,
Mr Tea-pot? You haven't got it all in your
brain-box, have you?
MEADOWS:
Oh, you've got an argument.
I said that.
MR JOHNSON: Don't take it too hard, then.
Don't want
your hand to get unsteady for Monday morning
tea.
JOHNSON:
I think I was right to show you my world,
Meadows.
MR JOHNSON: What 8 that? It's your world, is 1t? Must
tell°the steward that. He' 11 come to you with
the accounts instead of me.
MARGARET:
You rknow you hate him to touch. the accounts,
Harry. Shall I give you your whieky?
MR JOHNSON; No, I'11 have it upstairs.
Nobody gives a
damn for me down here.


JOHNSON:
Now, for God's sake, father, don' t get maudlin.
MR JOHNSON: Just what your mother used to say! I' m going
to bed. Well, good night, my dear, you've got
a pretty little face.
JULIA:
Good night, sir!
MR JOHNSON: As for you, we'll see more of you in the
elander-oourts.
The old fool docan't. forget,
you know!
MEADOWS:
He forgot Murphy.
JULIA:
Jack!
MEADOWS:
It'a common knowledge.
MR JOHNSON: And, meanwhile, go to hell, the lot of you!
Good night, Loweil. Harven 8 paved with
horses' hoofa, ever heard that?
LOWELL:
That's right, sir! Good night!
Exit MR JOFNSON.
MEADONS:
Fanoy having a dad like that!
JOHNSON:
We'li go into that Murphy-case on Monday
morning. I'11 aee you at the office, Meadowe.
You can tell me all. you know.
MARGARET:
It's quite possible that-me
JOHNSON:
And meanwhile we'll say no more about 1t.
Yes, he doesn't mince his words, does he?
of course, he's only showing off. Always
does in front of visitors.
MEADOWS:
He' 8 got something in him, Like a machine
that moves him along. You feel 1t.
JOHNSON:
I'11'say thie. He was one of the finest men
in the elotrioal trade at one time.
JULIA:
You were cheeky with him, Jack.
JOHNSON:
He loves it. You oan always see a littie
glint in his eyes.
MEADOWS:
The amell of battle.
LOWELL:
He' 8 a terror down at the stables sometimes.
But you oan deal with him, oan't you, Mag?
MARGARET:
I treat him like a child.
JOHNSON:
That's because he didn't bring you up.
MEADOWS:
My dad never touched me with a strap or any-
thing like that. Only once with the back of
his hand.
JOHNSON:
I didn't mind the beatings 80 muoh, not really.
MEADOWS:
Why not?
JOHNSON:
Well, they were a kind of relationship. I
hated it more when he didn't notice me.
MARGARET:
He had the habit of not notioing your mother


for a week at a time.
JOHNSON;
Do you know, I used to be frightened of
workers when I was a kid?
MEADOWS:
Go on!
JOHNSON;
They vére like ogres for me. There,s still
a kind of gory fascination-1 for me in working
at Barnley Ridge Electric. They used to come
in all my worst nightmares. I had one once
about this house and woke up Boreaning. I
dreamed that the house was in a terrible storm
and the trees were bending right over, and the
hills were like waves. I Baw hundreds and
thousands of workers pouring towards me in a
single file and I was hitting them over the head
11ke oattle and their bodies were taken off in
a kind of ohute, the hall was etreaming with
blood, but the special horror was that my father
had built a inn drain in the hall-floor iike
you see in slaught er-y arde, and the blood was
streaming down it. Then i noticed that all the
outside was turning to blood, with waves mount-
ing up in huge, congealed, shining spouts, and
the house was rocking to and fro, while the
remainder of the file of Norkers floundered and
drowned, their faoes red and their hair matted
with blood. As I say, I woke up soreaming,
and my mother was atanding over me. Iremember
she had sad eyes.
JULIA:
What a horrible dream!
MARGARET:
You've never told me that.
JOHNSON:
Perhaps you're not the kind one tells thinge to.
LOWELL:
That's bitter
thing to.say, old chap.
MEADOWS:
They aren't ogres.
JOHNSON:
I've seen them fight. And I used to hear
stories about the old daye, what they used to
do to blackleg labour.
MEADOWS:
I oan remember those lines nov.
'Our faoes in the water,
They shake in the wind;
Our faccs olose together,
They show we must have sinned.'
JOHNSON:
I Baid they'a oome, didn't I? The other day,
Meadows, I got a létter from a friend of mine
in Kenya. Important letter from your point
of view.
MEADOWS:
Mine?
JOHNSON:
We wére in the army together. I call him
Bull's Eye. He wanted to know if I had a good
man to send out to him, a married man. Decent
salary. Native servanta. Dets aohed hous e.
Free travel. Take'your wife. Chris tmas
bonus, that sort of thing.
MEADOWS:
JOHNSON:
I thought of you, yes.


MEADOWS:
You' re talking rot!
JOHNSON:
Think about it.
JULIA:
Did you know, Hrs Johnson?
MARGARET:
JOHNSON:
You're afraid of what's in you? You might
shout at an African--afind out you're not as
liberal as you thought---something 11ke that?
MEADOWS:
No. I'm not' afraid of that.
JOHNSON:
You said yesterday morning we should float
through all the rot of modern 1ife, let it
pasa over us. Why not do it in Kenya?.
JULIA:
He never oould. He couldn' t leave the boys.
MEADOWS:
I could leave the boye any time. I liked, don't
you worry about that.
JULIA:
He couldn't, Mr Johnson. He'a got to have
somebody to amile with.
JOHNSON:
Bull's Eye smiles. Quite a lot.
JULIA:
And then there'a me. I couldn't handle
servants. *
MARGARET:
You'd handle them better than I can..
JULIA:
I'm not a lady! And all those dark skine!
MEADOWB:
What a life that'a be, eh? Dark skins all
round you, the sun! 'By God!
JOHNSON;
See what I mean? 'It's a ohance.
JULIA:
Anyway, it's no use thinking about it. We
coulan't leave ola Barnley Ridge Electrio now.
JOHNSON:
I'a aseure you the same positionto come back
to, if you didn't like it out there.
JULIA:
Oh, you wouldn't!
JOHNSON:
I would.
LOWELL:
It sounds to me like a heil of, a good chance.
JOHNSON:
oid Bull's Eye's a first-rate, chap. Straight
as a dye. That'a why we called him Bull's Eye.
Always on the mark.
MEADONS:
What do you mean by 'old' Barnley Ridge Electr-
1o, Julia? Barnley Ridge Electric's just an
idea. The idea was realised in the form of
eighteen sheds and an asphalt yard a hundred
feet. by s eventy-two. Well, I don't 1ike 1iv-
ing all my days inside an idea. I'11 tell you
etraight off, this Kenya-thing appeals to me.
JULIA:
You'11 do what,8 best for you.
But what about
the clothes?
JOHNSON:
You' 11 get an advance.
MARGARET:
It sounde like an éxperiment.


JOHNS ON:
No, it isn't! There no need to try and
turn me into some schêning bloody ras oal like
you always do! There's no experiment attaohed
to it. old Bull's Eye juet put the question,
as you well know, because yoa read the letter
yourself.
MARGARET:
I only Baid it sounds like an experiment.
MEADOWS:
That's all right, Mrs Johnson.
It's in him
from his father, fiddling about with other
peoplegs lives. It éxcites them. I could see
it in his eyes. But it'e all right. It's
up to me to fight a way through.
JOHNSON:
Youtve discovered a véry Bound prinoiple,
Meadows, whioh my wire has been slow to iearn,
that there 8 no power where there isn't sub-
mission. A
MEADOWS:
Yea, it's right. I only make you powerful if
I submit.
LOWELLA
The ticklish thing is, do you submit by going or
ataying?
NEADONS:
That'e what I'd like to know.
JULIA:
He'11 Dever do 1t! :What, get on an aeroplane
and all that, Mrs Johnson? I'm frightened!
MARGARET:
Perhape you're better out of all this.
You
could start a family.
JULIA:
But what about the Vaudeville? and Sea Bells?
and dad's baok?
MEADOWS;
Dad's what?
JULIA:
Back. You, know I naseagé him once a week.
Hegular,
LONELL:
Women always put the personal aide, don' t they?
MARGARET:
It' s funny, Godfrey, you're full of ouggestions
for other people. I elways seem to be listening
to them. Why oan't our own lives have a little
bit of magic as well? We alwaye seem to be
sending péople off. And we're left with the
files and grapha and account-books.
JOHNSON:
I don' t know what you mean.
MARGARET:
ra 1ike a child, for one thing.
JOHNSON:
Oh, for Christ's Bake, not in public, Margaret!
MARGARET:
Why not? We're all very frank with eaoh other,
aren't we? Mrs Meadows told me ehe was fright-
ened of having a child.
MEADOWB:
She always has been, haven't you, duck?
MARGARET:
I'm not. Yet
have one. And if you're
Bo miserable at ontt. Brig why can't we leave?
Why can't we leave Barnley Ridge Electrio? Why
do you send people off to their freedom and leave
us prisonere? Even riding 8 forbidden!
JOHNSON:
You do enough of it, don't you?


MARG ARET:
I mean you forbid tt to yourself. Andi
these people think we live so grandly!
Stables, seryants, fifteen bedrooms! They
don't realise how hollow it is, just because.
you oan't bear a little colour, it'd make you
feel guilty!
JOHNSON:
I've got to atone all the time, that,s true.
MARGARET:
Atone for what?, You haven't done anything.
JOHNSON:
He has.
MARGARET:
But he was the same as you! He led your mother
the same 11fe! Bexause he didn't have a eense
of colour inside him, he didn't know what. magio
meant, he aidn't know what your mother was talk-
ing about when ahe said Bhe wanted a'ballroom
here and the servants lining up on Ohristmas
day! He thought it was all piffle!
JOHNSON:
So it was.
MARGARET:
Exnotly! - Xou don't HER know' what this frail
need is, which most of us have!
You don't seem
to need magic!'
JOHNSON:
Aa Meadows said, there's no power unlese you
submit to it.
MARGARET:
I want to submit! But you never shout or for-
bid me things!
JOHNSON:
It might not last long, Meadows, but it's worth
the experience, and you might move on $0 some-
thing else.
MEADOWS:
It's a borjoy test, that's all. It's the one
every borjoy of the first generation has to take:
but it's sad. It's Bad to think of what.my
children'il grow
into. They won't have that
substange behind thet like me,
JOHNSON:
They'll grow up like me. No 'magic'!
MEADOWS:
I've noticed, you're troubled all the time.
All borjoys are. Have my dildren got to be
like that? Well, I'm not going to say yes to
that job. I'm going to think a bit.
JULIA:
It might be nice out there. All that sun.
One of the women on the Bocial committee spid
she was out there with her husbend and, it' a
silly to mention 1t, but she only had thinge
out on the, line for a minute and they were dry!
Well, that' 8 a relief, ian't it?
JOHNSON;
Do you know that lovely Schubert song, 'Gret ohen
at the Spinning Wheel'? when she'e yearning for
Faus t? You hear the.e epinning wheel turning in
the piano pert, diddle-d1-daddle-di-diddle, like
a torture wheei, but lovely.. 'My quiet has gone, -
she saye, 'my héart is dark, I shali never find
peace as long as I live.' That s the farst
verse. Then 'Whenever I look oût of the wind-
ow 1t'8 only for him, and when I léave the house
I leave only for him. His gracious step, his
wonderful presence, his emile, the stroggth of
his gaze, the magioal flow of his speech, the
touch of' his hand, then---oh, his kiss!" First


verse again, 'My quiet has gone, my heart 1s
dark,, I shail never, find peace as long as I
live.' Well, that's how I feel about lire.
Couldn't put it in my own words. I don't know
who I'm looking for. I don't know who touched
me. Somebody did, once. It's the magio
Margaret talks about. I'm always looking for
1t. But the
gone. Meanwhile
person,
there's
work to do.
JULIA:
You shoulan't be, sad. Thank of the Dreamboat
las t night!
JOHNSON:
It's a person I'm in love with.
I'11 never find
it. It's always round the corner.
MARGARET:
I've never known what my function is with you,
Godfrey. Perhaps that,s the trouble.
MEADOWS:
It's'what I said yesterday. The borjoy's alw-
ays alone. And the more borjoy the more alone.
LOWELL:
Are we ready, then, Mr Meadows? Shall we go to
the stables?.
MEADOWS:
Yes, letbe! Coming, Julla?
JULIA:
All right. I feel 60 funny.
It's like a
dream.
MEADOWS:
Aren' t you coming, too?
JOHNSON:
Oh, we've seen them often enough.
MEADOWS:
I'm going to think all night. It's exciting.
It's 1ike making your 1ife with your own hande.
Exeunt LOWELL, MEADOWS and JULIA.
MARGARET:
You're going to wreck their lives.
JOHNSON;
No. People wreck their own. I give then
freedom. What do you think or that Murphy-
case, eh? We've caught the old man out at
last!
6 UR T A IN.


SCENE:
The same as in 1. A fortnight later.
JULIA and MARGARET.
MARGARET:
We'll send invitations to all the departments.
What about outsiders?
JULIA: :
Why couldn't ve have Casanova? He'd make a
wonderful M.q.!
MARGARET:
But you said he was horrible.
JULIA: :
He is. But hes such a lark!
MARGARET:
We don't really need an. H. C.
JULIA: :
Oh, we do! For the floor!.
MARGARET:
He won't expect to be paid, will he?
JULIA:
Oh, no! I'il talk to him.
It's funny how
people look up tp me now. Ever since we walked
round the worke together.
The women are differ-
ent.
MARGARET :
You look different, too.
JULIA:
How?
MARGARET:
Mor e menagerizal. It? s brought 8 omething out
in you---the organiser.
JULIA:
Well, I am an organis er, Mrs Johnson. Jaok's.
alwaye said 1t. I alwaye us ed to arganise the
parties. But never a big thing like this.
Imagine the canteen lit up! And Casanova giv-
ing me the glad eye while he holds the microph-
one, and his evening dress twinkles!
MARGARET:
Why doès it twinkle?
JULIA:
He wears it in his lapels, like diamonds.
Beys it flashes and catchés the eye.
MARGARET:
What about the judges?
JULIA::
Well, you should be one. The heads of every
department. What about that?
MARG ARET:
It's always the heads, you see. We always come
back to the same thing.


JULIA:
Why not? They're educated!
MARGARET:
Why can't we choose a judge at random from all
the ticket-buyers? By lottery?
JULIA:
We could. But there wouldn' t be the magnif-
icence ebout it, would there? Think of Spec-
iality Products with his lovely accent reading
out the winner!
And Production puffing at his
fat cigar!
MARGARET:
We' 11 lét Godfrey decide, then. I think I know
every man and woman in the works now,
You're
wrong. They'd be good judges. Better, per-
haps.
JULIA:
All right, then. We'll make it demooratic!
MARGARET:
You mean dull, don't you, dear?
JULIA:
Well, you can't starve people's hearts, Mre
Johnson, I don't pare what you say! fou calléd
me 'dear. That' s nioe. I'd 1ike you next
door. But it won't last.
MARGARET:
What won't last?
JULIA:
Our being together. We'1l never come to
Devil's Brig ag ain, you'll see.
MARGARET:
Why not?
JULIA:
It's too 11ke a dream. I'11 never forget that
house, Mrs Johnson!
MARGARET:
I 1ike it less since you came. I 1ike it here.
I never thought I would, Perhape it,8 the aut-
umn coming on. I love your little front room
where you gave me tea. You see how strange we
are? I remémber it glowing, like a fairy-tale,
And the fog over the works, too, with the 1ight
ahining through it. The way the trams creak. in
the morning. The briok walls, even. And now
I've learned to love Barnley Ridge---you'll see,
he'll snatch the work away from me.
JULI A:
Who?
MARGARET:
My husband. Whenever I.learn to love some-
thing he grows oold on 1t. It seems I always
love too late. It's like never catching up
in. a race.
JULIA:
I do feel sorry for you. They told me this
morning that old Mr Johnson*s on one of his
tours, like he used to! He'1l take my Jaok
to the 61 lander-courta, Mrs Johnson! He promised
he would. It does frighten me so!
MARGARET:
He'd never do 1t.
Besides, it's there in the
file, with his own signature. He can't get
away from it.
JULIA:
He non't 8 me up here, will he?
MARGARET:
Oh, he's been saying such nice thinge about
you! -You needn't be afraid!
JULIA:
Do you love Mr Lowell?


MARGARET:
No. Why?
JULIA: .
Well, à woman should always have a little
fancy, don't you think so? You'll have him
at the Social, won' t you?
MARGARET:
Oh, no!
AULIA: :
Why no t?
MARGARET:
I think he'd make God frey feel ashamed.
JULIA:
Why ashamed?
MARGARET:
In front of the workers.
JULIA:
But he ought to be proud! Mr Lowell's such
an easu-come, easy-go sort of person!
MARGARET:
He's proud of Bull's Eye, Set face, horn-
rimmed spectaoles, never says more than he
means. - By the way, I've got something to
show you,
JULIA:
I thought that was coming. When I got up this
morning. A kind of sensation.
MARGARET hands her a letter.
MARG ARET:
Are you glad?
JULIA:
I can't tell! Well, would you believe it?
MARGARET:
What_a your husband going to Bay?
JULIA:
I don't know. He's never mentioned it pgain..
He put it out of sight, And you say he 's_got
a set face and horn-rinmed spectacles, don't
you?
MARGARET:
That's right.
JULIA:
Oh, I couldn't bear that!
MARGARET:
But he's good-looking!
JULIA:
It's the way. you said it. No, I wouldn't be
right for
I oan feel it! (Reading) 'Foll-
owing foceppt of aigned contract I shall oredit
your account at Barnley Ridge Electric works
with a month's advance salary, and send air-
passage for yourself and your wife.' Isaid
we'd never see Devil's Brig again!
MARGARET:
But you want to go.
JULIA:
The tro uble 1e, if I knew how to behave!
I'm, sure they' il pick' holes in me. And 8 uppose
they didn't like the look of us? We'd be
stranded out there! :
MARGARET:
When you get, over there, try not to look for-
ward to their 8 mpary. You'd better take my
advice, I learned the bitter Way. Seem not
to need them. It doesn't matter how lonely
you are. Then they'llb be drawn towards you,
Itle terribly hard, doing it. You've got such
a soft heart! Try and be silent for minutes on
end sometimes, That interests them.
You


should remember what I've said.
Don't for-
get it, from the moment you land.
JUKIA:
We'll never go! It's for Jack to dedide, and
he's got more sense! You mean I've got no
sense when you say I'm Boft-hearted, don't
you?
MARGARET:
If you 1ike.
Being soft-hearted means that,
partly.
JULI A:
They sound horrible, Mrs Johnson!
MARGARET:
Oh, no, I diôn't mean that! They're ordinary
business people.
Decent. Quite Jolly.
Enter GODFREY JOHNSON.
JOHNSON:
The old man - 8 prowling round the works, like a
fox,
JULIA:
I'd better go!
JOHNSON:
Hullo, Mrs Meadows!. Your husband'e on hie
way. up. Broken the news?
MARGARET:
Yes.
JOHNSON:
W hat do you
Mrs Meadows? It'a, a wond-
erful. chance, oR4 it?
JULIA:
Well, we'll have to wait: for Jack. I could
have fallen through the floor!
JOHNSON:
Can't we get thos e files out of the way?
MARGARET:
What's the matter? You're prowling round,
it seems to me.
JOHNSON:
He's finding fault with everything. Won't
look at the aohievements ---oanteens and that
sort of thing. Says I could cut
labour down
by five. or ten percent. Well, so Y could.
Acoounts departzment, for instance. I 8 uld
mechanise that. lot and give forty percent of
the staff their carde.
MARGARET:
What does it matter what he Bays?
JOHNSON:
Nothing, Only it gets me worked up.
MARGARET:
I hope he 1sn't swearing at péople.
JOHNSON:
Oh, he's oleverer than that. He stande in
front of them 11ke a stpne column asking them
questions, then when he s finished he turns
away without a word!
MARGARET:
It 1sn't his plant, to do that.
JOHNSON:
He's got it all in his head. It's marvellous.
He knows every wire and assembly-line in the
placet
MARGARET:
You respect him, then. That's different.
Then you should' run the place-as he used to.
JOHNSON:
That's exactly the kind of help I get from you.
Well,
Meadows, we're still
oan sedre
bickering,
you


JULIA:
I think it's nioe, in à way!
JOHNSON:
If there,s any trouble out there write to me.
I know old Bull's Eye like the back of my hand.
JULIA:
You're very good, what you've done f r us.
JOHNS ON:
For me it'e a step fo rward.
MARGARET:
For them, you' mean.
JOHNSON:
No, for me.
MARGARET:
And what about them?
JOHNSON:
I'l1 tell you something else, Mrs eadowe.
It all happens at once. Your husband was
called up by the Personnel seotion this morn-
ing. He's been offered a job in Speal ality
Products.
JULIA:
MARGARET:
Did you arrange that?
JOHNSON:
MARGARET:
Little wonder the men are turning him a cold
shoulder!
JOHNSON::
Who said they are?
MARGARET:
Ien't that - true, Mrs Meadows?!
JULIA: :
Oh, I don't think they'a ever hate Jack!
JOHNSON: :
And in that case, what have you been doing.
valking through the works with his wife?
Do you think that improves his situation?
MARGARET:;
She 8 on the,catering committee.
JOHNSON:
She's in with you. And. he'e been offered.a
Job an Speciality Produota no doubt, because
he,s in with me. But. I aidn't do anything.
Yoû'1l have to accept, Margaret, that the world
is made in, a certain. Way.. It len't all. my will,
MARG 2
ARET:
You have a way of pushing fate along---giving
it a little shove.
JULIA:
Some people are nicer and some people aren't.
JOHNSON:
And for God's sake don't depress the giri
before she starts!
Enter JACK MEADOWS. A
JOHNSON: :
Ah, good. The old man wants you up here.
JULIA: I
Oh, not
MEADOWS:
Isaw.him downstairs.
He emiled.
Funny cove,
isn't he?
BULIA:
Well, 1ts come through, Jack!
MEADOWS:
What 0 8 come through?
JULIA:
The job out there!


MEADOWS:
Just as I thought. I thought, they've calied
me upstairs to sign on the dotted line, Well,
would you believe 1t?
JOHNSON:
Show him the letter.
MARGARET gives him the letter.
JULIA:
It's just 1ike a dream, Jack!
MEADOWS:
I expect I seem ungrateful.
Not jumping for
Joy.
JOHNSON:
No. Good news doesn't oome like that.
MEADOWS:
I was called up by Personnel.
JOHNSON:
Yes, he told me.
MEADOWS:
Was that your doing?
JOHNSON:
I've just answered that ques tion,
MEADOWS:
He offered me a Job in Speciality Produots.
JULIA: :
Well, let_s take it, Jack:
I've been thinking!
You'd better stay here.
MEA ADOWS:
You dont? want me to. For weeks you've been
dreaming-away, to yourself, quietly, like a
woman, haven't you--about me chasing the flies
off my knees with one of those horse-hair fly-
whisks? KEXER, clapping my hande for. tiffin,
eh? Our bed' 8 been tropical for weeks, I
nearly got a sunburn.
JULIA: :
It's all very well to pull legs!
MEADOWS:
It's the truth, you damned-well know it is!
JULIA:
Well, it's exolting---thinx of flying in an
aeroplane and going in the sun, and a wooden
house with great big whirring, tanns But it
makes me tremble. I do and I don't; Bort of
thing!
MEADOWS;
It's funny. The Personnel manager gave me a
glaas of shenry. He' B a nice man. And do
you know what I thought? I thought, He shouldn' t
be nices He ought to be nasty, like I imagined
him, It made me feel let-down. The old
intimacy s gone, My hands don't feel right;
on the work.
JOHNSON:
That_s freedom, *t I tell you what, I'11
make"you free-er still, I oan give you an
aseuranoe, in writing if you like, that 1f
things get too hot out there, say you dan't
set tle down, this job in Speciality Produots
'11 be waiting for you.
MEADONS:
So I'm caught both ways. Cunning, 1en't it?
I've got to be a borjoy now, if I'go or stay.
MARGARET:
You're afraid it's in:you, to. be one.
MEADOWS:
Thatas right, I am,: now. I'm caught, yet I'm
supposed to be free. I don't feel free, but
I've got freedom. I oan make 1ife with my own


hands. Before, I used. to watch lifo, sort
of thing. It Was like a procession with
colours and lights. I no more thought of
me or Julia being in it than flying in the
air! It Just wentrolling by while we bad
a cup of teal And'now I oan go up and inter-
fere with it. Get up on one, of the big gold-
en lions. 'Do you see what I mean? I can
make bite of it with my oun hands. And it
doeen't feel right,
JOHNSON:
Do you want to sit in a cocoon all your 1ife,
then?
MEADOWS:
Yes and no. That's where the borjoy, êt arts.
The processions' gone anyway, so life's made
up 1ts mind for me. I'm a borjoy now. You
Bay you've béen looking for something all your
life, Mr Johnson: it'8 the procession you've
been' after. It'a marvellous when you 8 ee it.
Do you remember the girl at the spinning wheel,
'My quiet has ' gone, my. heart 1e
I shall
dark, t
never have peace as long as I live?'
JOHNSON:
You've.got a wonderful memory..
MEADOWS:
We're in the Bame boat_now, you and me. But i
suppose the procession' goes for everybody?
Suppose,therege no fairground any more?
JOHNSON:
You mean, suppose: everybody'e free?
MEADOWB:
That's right, Suppose?
JOHNSON:
No more wars. A sound roof over everybody's
head.
MEADOWS!
That's right.
Heaven on earth: Only.no
angels going by.
MARGARET:
Or a_clear sky without any eunshine.
MEADOWS:
Notice ve don't. do our turns any more, Julia?
JULIA:
There_basn't been time, dudk!
MEADOWS;
Was that 'duck' you eaid? Why--'If you cen
JULIA:
I - can't, Jeck!
MEADOWS:
L'an old baboon 11ke me, it Aust be---
JULIA:
You'll mak ce't me, cry!
MEADOWS:
'Yes, it must be---because wel re--ts
Enter MR JOHNSON.
MR JOHNSON: Tea-pot singing? You'11 aing another tun e
by and by, lad.
MARGARET:
Did nurs e come, t oo?
MR - JOHNSON: What do I want with a blasted nurse all the
time?
MARGARET:
Sit down, then.
MR JOHNSON: How do you do, my dear?


JULIA:
How do you do, sir?
MR JORNSON: My Bon télls me you'il be 8 erving tea to the
Afrioans soon, Mr Tea-pot. You're wasting
ten percent of the plant, Godfrey Johnson, do
you hear that? I oould out your overheade by
a quarter in two years. I'11 tell you some-
thing, Xou're running this firm from the
Indus trial Relatione Department, and it should
be run. from here.
JOHNS ON:
I keep a general eye on things..
MR JOHNSON: Not good, enough! Get round the plant!
Shanklin' s,Pony! : Good for your corns:
See : em touching their caps to me this morn-
ing, down in *roduction? Het 8 still got the
old touoh, eh, Mr Tea-pot?
MEADOWS:
Thst's right.
MR JOHNSON: Servant called me 'sir' this morning, Mr Tea-
Have to sack him. Mustn't call me
potr. What the devil are those?
JOHNSON:
Personnel files.
MR JOHNSON: That damned word personnel's been ringing in
my. ears ever since you took this place.over!
It's production, not personnel, you're after
and I oan tell from your work-sheets that the
stuff's not coming off the assembly-lines as
1t should. a Too much entertaining. Too much
tea-potting. You've got a man in overalls
sitting in your office like Lord Muck with hia
wife. in the middle of the morning. Now that
Bort of thing wouldn't have happened in my
and it's never happened in nearly a hundred dArA
fifty years of Johnson firms, and I'l1' tell you
Bonething, it doesn't bode well!
MARGARET:
I wish you Mouldn't-excite yourself'like thie,
Harry!
MR JOHNSON: And I'11 tell you something, 1 Mr Tea-pot.
You're
on the pay-roll of this establishment, and your
Joh's downstaire on the assembly-lines, not
here, And until you've been given your cards
you're a worker and a subordinate, and you
touch your cap to me, do you understand?
JOHNSON:
I asked him, up here.
MEADOWS:
Oh, that's the way the wind blowé, 1s 1t?
Weil, Just have a iook, at this, Mr Johneon.
He goes across and s igne the contract.
JULIA:
XXEK
Jack!
You've done 1t!
MEADOWS:
Free man!
MR JOHNSON: Good Lord, Mr Tea-pot did something. Boye
downstairs'll go on etrike. Give it to me
here. (MARGARET hands him the contract) It's
a contract, too! By God, you get 1t buttered
on both sides nowadays, don't you, and along the
edges, , too! Two montha this, six motths that,
a couple of air tickete- --where does thw work
come in? I can tell.you something, Tea-pot,


you're a damned 's ight better off than I was
in my young days!
JULIA:
What madé you do it?
MEADOWS:
It was 'touch your cap'!
MR JOHNSON: That's how the first Johnson stated.
Wouldn't buckle under. 3igned a contract.
Lost all his friends. Richest man in the
country in five years. Never wanted to do
1t. Rum, ien't 1t? Your wife'll push you
further in the sludge. See it in her face.
MARGARET:
Let me take you home, Harry.
MR JOHNSON: Oh, no. Got to faoe a tribunal first, eh,
Godfrey Johneon? Two Judges, no witnesses.
I'm here to answer a charge, directed at me
first by Mr Tea-pot and then supported by
own son, that t I don't pay compensa ation for Ina
ustrial accidents. Defenoe: I always pay
adequat e compensation for industrial acoidents,
always have done, always will.
Those are the
rules of Barnley Ridge Eleotric Company Ltd.,
inception 1802. Now give me evidence, at onoe,
to the contrary!
JOHNSON:
Wheres that file?
MARGARET:
I don't know,
JOHNS ON's:
I said, where's that file?
MARGARET:
I think your father ought to go home,
JOHNSON (taking down a file) This is your personal file. 1
And this 1s what it says. about Jock Murphy.
'I spoke to Murphy and he was willing not to
register the accident if I courd aasure him a
position here for the rest of his working days,
and a pension, I put hip on the telephones
at the main door.' That' s where Murphy ia
now.
MR JOHNSON: Signature?
JOHNSON::
Signed by you.
MR JONSON:
Show 1t here.
JOHNSON:
Show it to my father, Margaret.
She does so.
MR JOHNSON (after reading it) Call the fellow up here.
Don't remember.
JOHNSON (at the telephone)
Send up Mr Murphy at once,
main door.
MR JOHNSON: This genuine?
JOHNSON:
Do you think I'd fake your 8 ignature?
MR JOHNSON: Wouldn't put 1t past you, I Rascal.
JOHNSON:
This man was blinded for life.
MARGARET:
All right, Godfrey.


MR JOHNSON: Private arrangement, probably. Gay e him
money and didn't write it down. Often did
that. Couple of hundred quid out of my own
po cket---forget about it, old chap, we'll
call 1t quits. Probably did that.
JOHNSON:
You didn't maké any arrangement, private or
otherwise. And that' s the meaning. of this
word 'personnel".
'Personnel' means I'm not
having that kind of thing happening again.
And that' B the aifference between my company
and yours. I'vé got to repair your damage!
MEADOWS;
You'll never do that. : Factories won't ever
be. natural and you'll never make them so.
That a the trouble with your class, refusing
to realise that, afraid of not being. up to
date.
MR JOHNSON: Heer what he saye? - You're in it as well ae
I am, Godfrey Johnson, Mr Tea-pot wants to
be natural. Wants a tiger-skin and do war-
dances!
JOHNSON:
You never registered any personal accidents at
all, including the personal ones to my nother,
did you?
MR JOHNSON: Nhy you---i
JULI At. :
Please, Mr Johnson!
MARGARET:
You can't stop them.
JOHNSON: :
She had 6 uch. a delightful, chattery way of
talking! You uséd to
up and waik out
sometimes when she Was gat the middle of a story.
You killed her with your hard will, didn't,
you?
MR JOHNSON: She didn't give me sex!
JULIA:
Ho' 8. orying!
MR JOHNSON: I swear I loved her! But she didn' towe
MARGAREN: :
Havem't you said enough, Godfrey?
MR JOHNSON: She never---!
MBABOWS:
Look out!
Mr Johnson stumbles.
JOHNSON:
Get the doctor quicki
JULIA:
We shouldn't have done it!
MARG ARET (at the 'phone) Send. the dodtor up at once.
JULIA:
We shouldn't have got mixed up!
MEADOWS:
Get a cushion for his head. Here, rest your
head, Mr Johnson.
MARGARET: : You'll be lucky 1f you haven' t killed him!
JOHNSON:
Brandy in my desk, quick!
Enter JOCK MURPHY,


MURPHY:
Good morning, sir!
JOHNSON:
Who the devil's that?
MURPHY:
How are you, sir? You sound the same as evér!
I heard you were making the rounds. It's been
nearly ten yéars, I think!
MEADOWS:
What are youbtalking about, Jock? It's yolang
Mr Johnson!
MARGARET:
He 1s blind!
MURPHY: :
I could have sworn that was his fatherf
MARGARET:
My husband'11 see you tomorrow.
JOHNSON:
I didn't mean it!
MEADOWS:
It' s funny. He made me sign that. The old
man.
MURPHY:
Is that Mr Meadows?
JULIA: :
We shouldn't have got mixed up!
JOHNSON:
I'vekilled him. I think I've killed him!
C UR T A I N


Ggnan
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1he alhai
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te ploce aad graud braus
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seund): te
1. Te cehasel elemat (tue lusuhovelle
d Dulii
elemet (tt. vadio mTpt); Dack
spyir
tarton.'
dipcsv e ca affiily.
Meedan uth
Tag
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2.TL me + tte fatuol
2A wa
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L Gen as Hany
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Whe huckin? Iyi
3. Bului Cayp.


DEVIL'S BRIG
A Play
Maurice Rowdon,


CHARACTERS.
Forthaven
Godfrey Johnson.
Margaret Johnson, his wife.
Jack Meadows.
Julia Meadows, his wife.
Ted Lowell.
'Mr Gohncon', Godfrey's father;
Jock Murphy.


SCENE: An office in the Barnley Ridge Electric
works.
GODFREY JOHNSON, alone, performing a
dance.
ENTER MARGARET JORNSON.
MARGARET:
What the hell are you doing?
JOHNSON:
Come in. Come in.
MARGARET: Why are you out of breath?
JOHNSON:
Been dancing. S1lly, ian't it? I remembered
being with old Bull's Eye. It was Just outaide
XXXAXXETX Bizerta. We rigged up a stage and did a sketoh
together.
MARGARET:
There's a letter from him this morning.
JOHNSON:
Not Now that's telepathy! I Gald fea
riepl b hue!
MARGARET: You've got a man waiting.
JOHNSON:
Who?
MARGARET: Jack Meadows.
JOHNSON:
Didn't I see him before?
MARGARET:
Onoe. About a month ago. He didn't have much
to say.
JOHNSON:
So what brings him here again?
MARG ARET: He's decided to talk, I suppose.
aud nadi
JOHNSON reading frem a book) 'Monotony, inducing state of
revery.'
Hear that?
MARGARET: Godfrey.
JOHNSON:
All right. Read, Aie hes
MARGARET: *Jack Meadows, Thirty-four. Techni oal
department. Fifteen years in the plant.
JOHNSON:
Fetteent Thatlg unyeuul
He came
when he was nineteen, Ad stayed 2
> A R
MARGARET: Hetaltarried, No children.


JOINSON: What'g the Personnel_Xeport Hket
MARGARET: Bood. Antrthartathe-fourth-intervio
morning.
JOHNSON:
Anyone after that?
PENNY
MARGARET: Jook Murphy.
JOHNSON: Been here before?
MARGAREER No.
JOHNSON:
I wonder what old Bull's Eye's got to say?
MARGARET: Don' t forget the name, ---Jaok Meadows.
PENNY lcave. Sau se Is the dm leer * Spee -
Extt MARGARET:
JOHNSON-opens door to JACK MEADOHS.
MEADow> Cana - dnest
JOHNSON:
Come in, Mr Meadows. Won't you sit down?
une,
MEADOWS:
Thank you, sir,
JOHNSON: Yon-were Aere before, weren't you?
MEADOWS: That's right.
JOHNSON: About lex month ago?
MEADOWS; Yes.
Zin
JOHNSON; Well, how are things
the Foohmical-depart-
ment?
MEADOWS: I'm in a nioe little group, sir. I wanted to
come berore, sir-m-
JOHNSON: Yes, You didn't want to Bay much last time.
MEADOWS: Weil, I had an idea it was all going down on my
PERSOnnel Report.
JOHNSON: Oh, no! The two things are quite 8 eparate.
Anything you 1-say up here is quite confidential.
You've been jhere 8 ince you were nineteen, haven't
you?
wwhig
MEADOWS: Yes, ae ir.
JOHNSON: Thatts unusual.
You mus t know a lot about the
firm.
MEADOWS: Yes, sir. There were five hundred hands when
I came.
JOHNSON:
Could you name all the dif ferent departmentsin
the_plant?
MEADOWS: Yes, sir.
Now?
JOHNS ON: Well, I only wanted to know if---
MEADOWS: Yes, of co urse, sir! Well, there are eight in
all. Accounts, Operation, Production, Inspection,
Techincal, Speciality Producte, Public Relations
and Industrial Relations.
JOENSON: Good!


MEADOWS: Ten out of ten, sir!
JOHNSON: Are you quite happy with the Technical people,
Mr Meadows, or do you hope one day to...?
MEADOWS: Well, I really aspire to Speciality Products
sir. You work right under the acientists there.
You've got experiments going on all the time.
Is all this' going down en-the-tape?(inmng ned
JOHNSONT Zuhat? Ctnlumi Li es)
MEADOWS:
a ten't
Sape-recorder-fnare?
JOHNSON: Yes, Tue Jur?
MEADONS: PrAet Bay you keep ton T te ime
then
play 1t over afterwards, ktk
Jha hl!
JOHNSON: That's-not-true
Hr-Headens! Come and see
for yourself. u M.
MEADOWS: Ittaaltice set, tantt = =#
JOHNSON: Clear as a bell!
MEADOWS: One of ours, sir?
JOHNSON: I don't think so.
MEADCWS: We-put-out somany modele thesedays you van
never tell, -san-you? Nioe Job, though.
Grod
JOHNSON: : My goodnese, Mr Meadowe fanoy abyabody using
one of these for interviews! But bunchof
people L
you-know, in a steel-works near
York,
hen- they.wondered afterwards why people
were cetieent: y-plas
gmg
MEADOWS:
That
sit
the-Pereennet
Report-- -If a man thinke what he says is going
down on the Personnel Keport he's not going to
say muoh, i Le -
JOHNSON:
Well, you needn'f be afraid abeut that, MrMeadows, a
ne-Teaid-before, There are two Ideas behind our
scheme: first, the happiness of the people working
on this plant, and secondly output. You've no
idea how long it has taken indus try to realise that
the two go together!
Yet it ien't a very profound
idea, 1s it?
MEADOWS:
XBHXSENK Are you interviewing everybody, sir?
JOHNSON: In time I hope to, yes.
MEADOWS: Do you deal with co mplaints?
JOHNSON: We listen to everything a man likes to tell us.
But Ne don' t deal with the complaint. Our job
18 to pre epare a permanent interviewing soheme for
this plant, so that when we've finished everbody ly
here knows he oan get a confidential interview
whenever he wante it. And that's part of my
too, to prepare a body of trusty interviewers 1o0e
the Public Relations department. You look a bit
puzzled. Would you 11ke me to explain the whole
scheme, Mr Meadows?
MEADOWS: Yes, sir, I would.


JOHNSONY I-expect roup 1 wondering what happens to the
comphaints. They E till in the hands of-the
Personnel-Departmentr You see, Mr. Meadows, our
idea 18 to find out what' s on a man's mind.
You've got to realise, you see, that when a man
makes a persistent complaint about ventilation,
in one of the wiring rooms, Letaus Bay,, it may
not really be about ventilatioh 'at' all'but the
expression of a grudge he feels against another
worker whose bench 18 by the window and who likes
to keep the window closed all day. The complaint
1s. a pret ext for something much deeper. Now all
the Personnel department can do 1s to deal with
the official oomplaint. It alters the ventil-
ation. But we oan tell the Personnel depart-.
ment that this 1s quite useless. The man will
only find something else to oomplain about, and
again it will involve the other worker.
MEADOWS:, Oh, isee now, sir---
ARImE
usd
JOHNSONA Before the last War, whén thes e interviewing
echemes began, peopie only thought in terms of
working conditions--ventilation, res
sanitation, wage-incentives and 8O forth. orepausegis
changes in that field. didn, t raise the output as
muoh as they expected. Their miatake was to list-
en to, the complaints and not to the people who
were making them. After all, it's no good giving
a man good piece-rates, a well-ventilated room,
meals with the correct number of calories, long
rest-pauses and décent wash-rooms 1f you then put
him on the Bame bench as a man he detests, is it?
It sounda very simple, to say that a man is much
more than a Nage-unit to be properly fed and vent-
ilated, but it has taken us bearly two hundred
yeara of industrial development to find out!
MEADOWS: Well, you've bertainly given me a lot to think
about.
JOHNSON:
Sometimes one of our interviews---in a few min-
utes of quiet dis ouesion---can bring out a griev-
ance which bas preyed on a man's mind for twenty
years. And just because he never had a chance
of airing it that grievance may have beçome ob-
seseive and started to warp his whole charaoger.
Now what we're introducing here, Mr Meadows, is
a permanent interviewing scheme conducted by the
Publio-Relations department, that will end this
Srue
state of affairs. How absura it 18, when you
come to look at it, to bring Ahout-wwo-thossend
people into daily contaot with each other EXEEX
and expeot no problem. Yet there are plants up
and down the country whioh won't hear a word said
in our favour.
MEADOWS: That's right, sir. You get these people with
backward minds, don't
you?
JOHNSON: Backward.: in their own interes ts, too.
MEADOWS: It's a scheme for everybody, isn't 1t? Notjust
for the pecple on top. I think any scher me'ls
that doesn't go up to the Personnel people.
goudet to be on assembly work. Shortly after
that I-got a nasty report. Thirteen years ago.
I was twenty-one at the time. I used to do a lot
of gallivanting around. I don't think these


Personnel people liked 1t.
JOHNSON:
You were-too much of a spark for them?
MEADOWS:
Yes, that's right!
Yet you'd think a spark
in an electric
would be
plant
useful, wouldn' t
you? They gave us a test once, when I was Just
turned twenty. Itwas called the Finger Dex-
terity Test. You got about fifty tiny little
pegs about an eightth of an inch thick and you
had to fit them into holes Just a bit bigger.
It took some doing, Mr Johnson.
JOHNSON:
Were you good at that?
MEADOWS:
No. There didn't seem to be any brains in it.
I like to use my brains. Thet was under your
father. You own the plant now 8 ir, don't you?
JOHNSON:
Well, I'm chairman of the board. That's not
exaotly owndership, you know. There ien't much
ownership nowadaps, It's all shares and bebrds
and shareholders' meetinge and that sort of thing.
MEADOWS:
Do you explain the ' scheme to everybody, eir?
JOHNSON:
I try to.
MEADOWS:
I bet some of them get out of their depth, don't
they, sir? Some of the soldermen! I was on
solder-work for a bit, too. You wear goggles
all the time. The other people think they oan
push you about. Yes, there aren't many trades
in this plant I'm not familiar with. Now the
ass embly room, that's fidaly Work. I used to
turn out fifty-five nelephone-relays in a day.
I think 1t's better work for the girle. None
of those e parts are bigger than your finger-nail,
Do you read poetry, sir? I see you've got a
lot of books up there.
(agh a luns lede at da)
JOHNSONA
NON and then I
do, yes.
like s inging, dancig.
MEADOWS:
This hasn't any thing to do with the worke, Bir-
JOHNSON:
No, tell me. Please do.
MEADOWS:
I've bought a poem along.
JOHNSON:
You write poetry?
MEADOWS:.
Yesp quite a bit, air.
JOHNSON: :
Most interesting!
MEADOWS:
One or two of the boys do. Only in the Tech-
nical department. It was partly me hearing you'd
got a tape-peesreer
trai A Ophous -h un
did Lo ae
5 ds h
JOHNSON:
hyest R
do iy
MEAHOWSE:
I expeot you think I'm mad.
Anjue 1A
JOHNSON:
I think writing poetry As L. very. sane, in Meadots. La lem,
MEADOWS: Oh No, what mean is, would you mindif I recited ad
w k this into your ape-mabhinet 1 4 2
JOHNSON:
Hell, I suppose not! Not at'all!
lwartti
MEADOWS:
You know why,, don't you?


lane


JOHNSON:
MEADOWS'
Well, it's no good me going down the ass rembly
room where all the recording etuff is. They'a
pull my leg. It' wouldn't do for a Technical
man. I've never heard my lines being spoken,
you see.
JOHNSON:
Well, of course.
(Handina hin thoHiorbotohe
Got the poem here?
MEADOWS:
In my head. It's called - A Prayer'.
JOHNSON:
A prayer? All right, Bhoot.
MEADOWS:
Give us this day
Our heart -
0 Lord, give us our part
To play;
Undo our settled clause.
Of pain,
But keep the cause
For which we came,
Give us this day
Our daily heart.
milclis 2t
JOINSON winding he tape-back) Give. us thia day our daily
heart! Most interesting!
MEADOWS:
It just came out like that---14ke a prayer.
JOHNSON:
I like : the settled clause of pain.' What do
you mean by that?
Etaon
MEADOWS:
Well, I mean how-everything's. closed,in, I The-
day starts early in the morning and ends at
night, and there' doesn't seem any. esoapet Al-
ways the sane. It's like a finished clause,
with a full stop. Prdie ferces elood.
JOHNSON:
And did you-intend play-on-the-word lolansl
ofa-bird?
MEADOWS:
lish
id now, Gunning, ian't
çlauset and tolawst?
ith
JOHNSONA
Apd why the pain?
MEADOWS:
What?
JOHNSON:
Why the pain?
MEADOWS:
I don't know.
JOHNSON:
But that'e remarkable---8 remarkable poem---
MEADOWS:
'Undotthere neans turn the olause with a full
stoplinto a sentence which never finishes.
I'l A a Caal YAV
JOHNSON:
Xer.
Most interesting!
Shailwe : L
back?
MEADOWS:
I'11 go all of a tis-was, like my wife says!
1 ight pul
# te lug, Mon-sewer!
Am y di
Poen is repented-on-taper
MEADOWS:
Marvellous, isn' t 1t, hearing your own voice?
Like talking to yourself from heaven. Unoanny,
too. Not right, really. Shali I tell you
what was on, my mind when I wrote it?


2A-cla ex k ui - nivice
Auin 2 a


JOHNSONS
Yes,
KEADOWST
I was thinking of the assembly room,
JOHNSON:
All those years ago?
MEADONS:
just what-I-was going tosat.
Thè parts
they gave you were no: bigger than your finger-
nail. You put them to gethér. Then you xki
alid -them down a chute. Fifty-fivé times a
day. I got' boils on my arse on that job!
Talk about laugh! They changed me, over to the
Test Room and the boils went Just like that!
I said to the nurse, I said, now whatks the
hell's the use of you putting that yellow stuff
on, its psychological! Talk about laugh!
We had some laughs in those days!
JOHNSON:
Don't you laugh any more?
MEADOWSI
Not like mum and dad. Dad'e namé was Walter.
Sie used to call him votend Closet. That sort
of thing, you know---anything for a lark.
JOHNSON:
You 6aid Bomething in this poem about playing
a part? Don't 'you feel yo u play a part here?
MEADOWS:
I don't know!
JOHNBON;
How ie it you haven' t got into Speciality Products?
I've been wondering that ever eince you camé in
the room.
MEADOWS;
Ah, well!
JOHNSON: 4
How did this Pers onnel Report come into being?
MEADOWS:
can
They
see mzthe Bame as thot, 7 that'dwhet-
they con'tiike---t
JOHNSON:
Who?
MEADOWS:
Up at Personnel. They' re College men. I was
mapped out for a college, too, and they don't like
JOHNSON:
Why didn' t you go to a college?
MEADOWS:
I got marrid.
JOHNSON:
When?
MEADOWS:
When I was twenty.
JOHNSON:
A man goes to college at seventeen or eighteen.
MEADOWS:
Oh, well! I wanted the noney in my pocket, I
8u uppose.
JOHNSON:.
What did you nean in this peom by 'keep the
caus'e for which we came'? You vent God to take
the pain avay but keep something--what's the
Bomething?
ME ADOWS:
Well, there must be some me aning to thinge, a
mus tn't there? Originaliy, there musthave
been, No-mundred.paoroey say. There must
be a little a) park soméwhere. We've gone as tray,
somewhere:
JOHNSON:
Who?


MEADOWS:
People like me.
JOHNSON:
BatMot people like me?
MEADOWS:
Well, you seem to know what you're doing. I
bet you took over your father's plant be oa us e
you Manted to.
Nrat all. a
dread 6
JOHNSON:
tesr You mean you want freedom,theng
MEADOWS:
What-the hell-em-i-doing-down-there? You could
Just as well get:a puppet and work it with elect-
rical shocks.
Finger-work. Like this. - I
did that for nearly: twènty years.
better
JOENSON:
Do you think it would have been/af you'd.been to
f college?
MEADONSE
Yes! They-have-it-better-allright---
JOHNSONT
whor
wede lmdle
khe (he teu
MEADOWS:
in the Personnel office! Stuck-up, bloody
talleyman's ink-bottles!
Une la - H ? lallyu - A
M. lt waas - deen e f
JOHNSON:
(I' a college man.
San: l'- e cMige lras
MEADOWS:
And look atithe difference. Look at you sitting
back in your chair, choesing, choosing, choosing-!
And I'm all s tiff---look at me here, sitting on
the edge of my chair, waiting to be" -asked ques t-
ionsr--always waiting----ixaye waiting to know
what' s going to happen to my 1ife!
JOHNSON:
Well, don't Nait any more.
Change your 1ife.
MEADOWS:
Do you think I . could? Once in, youtre in for
good, Mr Johnson! That'e a decision you take
when you're fifteen.
JOHNSON:
You think you'a be happier in Speciality Prod-
ucts?
MEADONS:
Oh, Speciality Products! I'm a bloody product!
JOHNSON:
énd I'm not?
MEADOWS:
No! It's choice ohoise, choice!-- --'What shall
I be, what shall i do?1" Suppose I said, 1 All
right, I'11 change my 11fe,' can't you seé I'n a
Norker down to the tips of my, fl ngers, look at
the way bI walk, it's the way I eat, I've got a
special sort of jerk, I'm a different sort of
Mr Johnson, that's all there is to say!
EsoEont Look
you, sitting
you've got. the pers-
onality---I don't know, taerer." something---yod're
comfortable---Yyau Bit well in your own body---
do you'see what I mean?
JOHNSON:
You mustn't get worked up, Meadows.
MEADOWS:
That 8 right, call me 'Meadows': Id like to
cry Bometime es. Five minutes ago it was Mr.
Meadows. I Just open my mouth and you take off
the Mister. - Suppose I called you 'Johnson'.
JOHNSON:
MEADOWS:
Oh, yes, there's no class any more, we're all
equal! But I'm still a produc t. My mother and
father didn't use to be 11ke this. My mum


started out at-half a doller a week, twelve hours
a day nearly at the match-factory, when she was
Just turned eleven---and you ought to see the way
she laugha!
JOENSON:
You mean she laughs more than you?
MEADOWS:
Ia say!
JOENSON:
Do you.want to go back; thi en?
MEADOWS:
Oh, yes, I know that onge, too---
JOHNSON:
The dole in thpse days A.comn-just.bofore-tne
lest-wer, was twenty-seven bob a veek.
MEADOWS;
On; you'reright. You' ve got the faote and
figures. It's no good. I could ory for people
sometimes.
JOHNSON:
I think your mum and dad needed orying for.
MEADOWSE
You E houldn' t call them mum and dad. Don't you
think you have to pat tronise me, When you say *
like
that,t feels aeit you're trying to equeeze your-
self'down to half -your size---to be level with me--
JOHNSON:
I didn't meant thet.
MEADOWS:
It' s funny. You sit there and I'm sure you
expect everybody who comes here to be shyer than
you: You expect to bring them out---with a few
questions, don't you? Why should that be?
JOHNSON:
If I went to them in a : inilar capacity Ia be
shy, too.
MEADOWS:
No, you wouldn! t. This 'is how you'a do 1t.
'Good morning! How. d'you do, sir? My name's
Johnson!"
(langhis)
You're a damn aend mimic!
JOHSONA
sa goed
MEADOWS:
Take those worde : damn/ time'. There's a onrt
of aband on about them, ien't there, Mr Johnson?
But if you'd been brought up like me there'd
always be a little fellow shivering ipeide you,
saying, 'Yes, that'e righty sir, that' B right!!
I réckon I've said 'That's rightt 2 million
times since INas a kid! Because that's *hht
what you' re taught---it's the other man who calls
the tune! Take some of these college men who
come up from nothing. Just you imagine, they've
alwaye got this shivering little chap inside
them, and 1f. they hold up their heads and stand
on their own two feet without wobbling, I suppos e
that 8 mervellous ehough, couldnt t do it!
Yes, I often wonder what ehago reel like when
they stand in the clasey drawing-rooms---I bet
people smell them out-
JOHNSON:
Are there classy draring rooms any more?
MEADOWS::
No. Te
kte and Icale ty
upas
JOFNSON:
Thon the solloge man's * a
MEADOWST
There are still classy people. Like you.
You can't help walking aoross this room as if
you owned it, and I can't help walking across


JOHNSON:
-As 1f it owned you.
MEADOWS:
Yes. It doeen' t matter 1f the drawing rooms a
there or not, the pecple haven't changed. Z
JOHNSON:
But that's what-higher wages and hoaith-ingur-
aneeere for, my dearehep- -that-s why I'm.
here-s-to make you feel as if this room
chifp-
was
yours--to make youbfeel like me.
MEADOWS:
It won't happen 1jke that. There's nodcdy
under me, L There' s nodody shows me any respect.
Nothing 11kè the respect you got. I'il tell you
N H -
the way things are going. We're all going to
feel like me. Not the other way round. Your
children are going to feel like me. I've thought
a lct about this. I don't feel-liy B ta right
to have aself. Sometimes I oan hardly get the
word 'I' out of my mouth. I want to cover it up
all the time.
JOHNSON:
And my self's been oultivated?.
ila,
MEADONS:
That's right! You had a nurse, aidn't you?
JOENSON:
A governess, yes.
MEADONS:
That was the idea, to cultivete you! To make
you a pleasing shape, Mr Johnson! The idea was
to make you a gontleman---
JOHNSON:
My dear ohap, you're out of date---!
MEADOWS:
But you are a gentlemen! I don' t mean you
feel superior to me or enybody else. A gent-
lemem doesn' t! -I. don't mean you're richer than
me or even better educated.
I mean the way
your hands are laying there, like I said---
that little smile you gave me when I came in--
it's the feeling of comfort all round you---
you've been given time to grow, Mr Johnson,
you've grown to full height! But I'm demned if
I have.
JOHNSON:
That s your test now, 1en't it? As to whether
you &an cultivate a self as well---with eagal
chances, I mean?
MEADOWS:
They aren' t equal chances, Mr Johnson. I
haven't got the time for one thing. You need
time to cultivat e a self in.
JOHNSON:
So your only hope is a win on the foo tball pools?
MEADONS;
That's right.
T. b
JOHNSON:
And-beeome a member of the olass that sweated
your mother and father twelve hours a dayt
MEADOWS:
That s right.
JOHNSON:
Except that the class 16-not-ander-eontreentrelese-
tall3and can't sweat people any more. They kx
haven' t got uninterrupted time either, now,
have they?
(zih a siile)
MEADOWSA
H n,tha S
JOHNSONE
Well
don
nd you very realistid,


MEADONS:
Look at itthis way. If you sat down and
talked to me you'd be talking about a real
solf. You're an individual---
JOHNSON:
'Bourgeois' would suit you better, wouldn't
ity A man of free choice?
MEADOWS:
fhat's right. "Borjoy'.
It sounds right,
too. "Bore-Joy', like boring into/iife.
K111-Joy, sort or'thing. Takes all the Joy
out of iite, that'a what the soyéalled indiv-
iduals have done.
JOHNSON:
Very well, then, when I, the bourgeois, talk,
it's about a real self, but when you---
MEADOWS:
When I talk -it's about g/social problem.
See
what I mean? Lake noy, I'm not nyself.
I' m a hand down -in the Teohni cal department.
And your class 81 topped me having a Belf in the
firat place. It put my life on a schedule.
And it's up.to the same game now. See what
I moan? You're/kind now. You don't sweat
me any more 11ke you did my mot ther and father.
You don't look down your nose at mo. But I'm
still a 'hand.
Woll-paid, nicely ventilat ed.
But a hand. With problems. And you're here
to settle /he problams. It'a the sane world,
Mr Johnson. You remember what I said---
Give us/ sarxheaxt this day
Our beart
o Lora, give us our part
t2oteie got your part to play, Mr Johnson.
A haven't. When 1 die IAhall have a flat
11fe 1ike an operating -table to look backon!
MEADous
we're bodies without faces, Hr Johnson.
JOHNSON:
Who's we?
STET
MEADOWS:
The workers.
JOINSONT
Lanltfrue.
oan-tellyou the eeple
who oome in this-room have daeper faoee then
any
e seen
my own-elass.
The faot that
they hold their faces-etill
make axy
aifference.
Alse den't
L *k a - ou
social problem a all, Mr Meadows.
I listen
to every man, or try to, as if he was the first
man ra ever listened to.
14 I beliung do.
MEADOWS:
fo you know, the only time I really enjoy my-
self 1s down at the oamp every summer. We
go there-every year, thewife and-me. It's
called the Sea Bells Holiday campt Ietafunny,
they. olock you in and olook you out like%a
you can't oall your soul your oun,
EaSORA but
about laugh! You don't atop, laughing
from the time you get there! My wire's a
aoream. She's got a real gift for burleeque.
JOHNSON:
Likeyou, if I may say 80.
MEADOWS:
Hav e you seen our turn? At Christmas?
JOENSON:
MEADONS:
Do it every year. Boye love it. I married
her fourteen years ago. She' 8 a megnificent
woman, Mr. Johnson. Shebs A favourite at Sea


X X
Bells.
Her name' 8. alwaye coming over the
loudspeakers. 'Mre Meadows, come and give
us a hand, will you? There 8 a kiddy Bays
he' s lost! It's a Nonder they never gave her
a job down there, she'd be marvellous.
There's always 8 omebody to have a laugh with.
It's l1ke going back to told times. That's
what my stréet was 11ke before I was born.
Easy-oome, easy-go, sort of thing.
JOHNSON:
And it changed?
MEADOWS:
ehenge ineide,
Phet-tahres-time; d
sut All the old-time thinge stopped. You don't
éee the muffin man any more with a tray on his
head end a big bell, and that pièce of green
felt gver the muffins dopou, on Sunday after-
noonsto You can't get peas-pudding and faggota.
I can remember those carts with ec ockles and
winkles. I can remember my uncle Harry coming
over in a black auit and a bowler hat on Sunday
afternoons and picking the winkles out with a
pin. Nasty habite he had. Gobbled his tea.
I'l1 never forget tha t noise. Ard Aunt Ada
with those boots that used to button up the
ankle. And Guy Fawkes night! Do you remem-
ber the old Crystal Palabe at Sydenham?
JOHNSON:
Yest
Don't ther still have Guy Fawkes night?
MEADOWS:
Yes but it's not the Bame.
7 nw
JOHNSON:
Aren't/bongfires and fireworks good enough for
you?
MEADOWS:
I know, I can't put my finger on 1t.
The
fires don' t have that glow like the old ones.
Faces have changed.
JOENSON:
You mean you're not young any more.
MEADOWS:
n nor That whole race has gone, like
my aunt Ada; Apen
tell youwhat,
Kp Jehnsen, bor a
mel
you, They
aniff rourd you
dogs
Have reu-ever net-
leedthet? They
wexe got-something going
h ae
hett Hhat sort 18
he2l
pound here are getting like
that.
hat myself,
It's the
meney, T suppose, Ve're all getting like the
gentlemen, but without the fun and mithoutthe
neck? You cen't have twenty million gentle-
men, Mr Johnson!
JOHNSON:
God forbid!
MEADOWS:
Xou ought to have seenay aunt Ada end uncle
Harry come-in-the room. Unele-Harty never
smiled. Ever such atall man. Not 1f there
wasn't S omething funny. A But we sort of orànge.
Do you sexwhat I mean? We Bmileall the time.
Peopleent to be getting on w ith each other all
the xime, "whereos -
in the olddays they didn't
worry. A People don't sitAnside themselves like
they used to, they're reeping outside all the
time!
JOHNSON:
But jown -at -the camp Vreyre different?
MEADOWS:
Théyeksp-beck-to-thoir-old


wer M7 hchi i- Aitus
Belves-down at Maughley Bay/
JOHNSON:
Did-you-eay Maughley Bay? That' s twenty miles
from where I Hte! Us od to paddle in the sea
there when-t was kid!
MEADOWS:
Go on?
The
X Lo -
JOHNSON:
Devils Brig,
Heard- talk -
MEADOWSt
Deville-what?
JOHNSON:
Devil's Brig. Sounds gr Le
DeB
1t Love-
y oid house thoughs
beet oalled that-for
acouple-of hundmed-yeare. Supposed to look
like a ship in the distance.
MEADONSF
And you know every nook and cramy, Ibett.
JOHNSON+
Oh, yert
MEADOWS;
#eli, fancy thatt Twenty miles from oid
Maughley Bay
wife'il soreamt
I ber
Hasit
got lovely big grounds and a lake and all
that?
JOHNSON:
I 8l uppose you' a call it a lake, yes.
MEADOWS:
Your father doesn't come to the works any more,
does he, sir?
Iba
JOHNSON:
No, he-etays-down-at Bertll Brig-most-of-the
time, He's past it, you know, He put in a
good many years here.
MEADOWS:
Yes. He was a good man, they say.
JOHNSON:
Do they say that?
MEADOWS: :
Oh, yes! Mind you, he could drive a man hard.
He coyld be rough, couldn't he?
JOHNSON:
Oh, yes!
Enter MARGARET.
MARG ARET:
Mr Murphy's waiting.
JOHNSON:
I see. By the way, do you know Mr Meadows?
My wife.
MEADOWS:
Good morning, Mré Johnson. We.'ve just been
talking about old Maughley Bay.
what?
MARGARET:
Old w#?
JOHNSON:
Devilsfeach. ta BnyF
MARGARET:
HEADOUS:
Well, Mr-Johnson, ve-taken-upa-dot-of-your
time gassing.
JOHNSON,
sAmg I
We cald
want
seè more of you, #r
Meadons, More ofyour-peems, too. And mean-
while wel
- bettom-e thet-Pereennel
noportr
unk n
h L - A
MEADOWS+
Thanke you, sir, Godd-mopning, Iexpeot thore
Personnel boys are
a whon yow-get-to-know


Al P'hfel tta it a recoaliy 3
themt
MEMaus :
JOHNSONT
That' right!
PENNY elo. ae
Exit MEADOWS. Jcana, lefr,
Iha
ta A di lette.
MARG ARET:
Didyyou say poems?
JOHNSON:
Xeeg Extraordinary, Lentt-tt? Read)a poem,
and told me "not to call him Meadows! Did-you
like-thelook-okofhiny
MARGARE?E
fniay -
JOHNSON:
Tha t makes him interesting, Extraordineny
chap! Initated relay-work with his fingers--
you ought to have seen him---like a pantomime!
qd Raspl hywe! He'. a 1 mit A! alal the tt
MARG AEST:
medt
wonder
what-they think fyou, doing allthis?
JOENBON;
Theyt
It's-alweye they' with you ion't
1t? That
ast whet as said.
rer your
olass, he-sal
s0018 + problem, net
individuals.
MARGARET
They're
problem inyour-head- in V your imag-
imation---that" all,
loun? ?
JOHNSON:
hink 'm-asking toe-many leading questions;
Margeret. Must learnnot to lecture,
tating) Meadows. Technical department.
te doesn't like what he calls the college men.
* the Personnel-seetion. He's got sart their
brains, and be feels they look down_on_him,
MARGARET:
They probably do!
L'- lin ulb
(haveli
swes l L!
JOHNSON:
I - Fot
buntum, There/1en't agollege
man among them! That's hat Ler you've no
ins tinet for thes e people. (Diotating) Aspires
to Speciality Products.
mitry - and fir him
upr W andso kita L
MARGARET
Wellt
JORNSONT
I wouldn' t mind being out there with Bull's.
Eye. Sun beating down.
Life for a man, eh?
MARGARET:
Is that all?
JOHNSON: :
It's funny, Margaret, they' re calling me 'sir'
more than they used to.
MARG ARET:
They look-up toyou, that's way
Do you hold iv
that against them?
JOHNSON:
He said he could sée my class in the way I Bat
what do you think of that?
MARGARET:
We' ve all got charnoteristios. tould see - hie
olese-48-his, teo. It'a what you might/the call
imprisonment of birth. For instance, I'm a
county girl with a 'hard moral core'--
JOHNSON:
Oh, for Christ's
Hot now! Keep that
bloody Jangle for eotod s Brig! (Opens letter)
'Dear God'. - God'! alw,ys tickles me!-- - Deg ar
God, Well, it's been a long time since I dropped
you a line and I'd better get down to describing


the Bort of life we're having out here, So
here goes, in the company of John/Walger Esqu-
ire, sitting on the table before me. A I've
been up to my eyes in work and this is the first
clear week Ilve had since Christmas. G1ll
has-her-hande-fullwith the children and the
servants, who come and go atthemost alarming
rate: You'11 be glad to hear the farn'e pay-
ing-its-way at last.. We turned-over even last
month, and by the summer of next year we: should
be turning over a modest profit. I watoh the
old red su un going down every evening, and there's
nothing better. After dinner we elose-the-french
windowsand get down to thé accounts. Gill and
the children. are as brown as berries. Wonder-
fully quiet: at night, except for the Jackals and
the occasional roar of a. man-eating lion. Haard
a l1oness quite olose to the house the other
night, and there-Was a. s care at the local vill-
age. When you get tired of aitting. at a deak
trying to promote produothon-rabes, why don't
wrel uncs >
you pay us, a visit? or, b'etter still, come and
live here. Bythe-way- -
Hey,leok-at
thetimet Whots-hert? CT PANNY) avr & had
ides A alr - Le 2
MARGARET:
Jook-Murptry, Bull'e-Egele
ame-as-you,
really- He couldn't make a good life here, so
he ran away. - Cal pluse
1 : Auc a -
JOHNSON:
Jeck-Marphyt N. awe?
Dorh Mups
MARGARET: LSolder-man. Production department.
JOHNSON:
Baa-trebeen up before?
MARGARET:
No. Bifty-one years old. Three children.
Been here Bince 1918. me D dasl',
JOHNSON:
Oneof dad's originel-eustomerel
sightt
Exit MARGARETS tanke
JOHNSON opens/door to JOCK MURPHY.
JOHNSON:
Come in, Mr Murphy. Just seid to my w fe,
'One of my dadds original customers'! Beén
with us since 1918, that right?
MURPHY:
Thet's right, Bir!
M. seeus K Aw
sam >
JOHNSON:
Sit down, Non't you? Now-then. You're in
Production, arenltyour rpe
MURPHY:
No, sir. I'm on the.main door. Telephones.
JOHNSON:
Telephones? What the devil's this, then? lts
Bays here Broduction8, plain as your finger, the
Bolder-man.
MURPHY:
That was trelveor foutteen yeard ago.
hlei - AL
JOHNSON:
sccaloirs Horr dot rat out date,
hopet Anyway, 11 see to the fil later.
Well, Mr Murphy, how.a are things downeteips?
MURHHY:
ght, - SIE
Mustri't grumble.
JOHNSON:
I expect you've heard about my pet Httle
scheme, haven't you? I want to know. what's
on. people's minds. You never know, a man might
have something on his' mind, and a W ord here or


there might clear it up.
MURPHY:
That's right, sir.
JOHNSON:
And what about your mind, NrMurphy? Any-
thing on it?
MURPHY:
Not that I can say, sir.
JOHNSON:
Well, you know where to come if anything crops
up. I treat this first interview as an introd-
uction. Just a hand-shake.
MURPHY:
That's right, sir. - How's the old Mr Johnson,
1s he keeping all right?
JOHNSON:
Fine! He's beyond it now, as I expect you
realise. He's past eighty, you know.
MURPHY:
I can remember him when I wasa boy, sir.
He used to fly round.
JOHNSON:
He' d stiil 1ike .to, if he coula! We have to
keep an eyé on him!
MURPHY:
You've taken over now, have you,. sir?
JOHNSON:
That's right.
MURPHY:
I can hear the old Mr Johnson in your voice,
air.
JOHNSON:
You can? Well, like father, like son, as
they say!
MURPHY:
That's right, sir!
JOHNSON:
So there's nothing on your mind at all? No
problem? No little worry?
MURPHY:
No, sir.
Not that I can say.
JOHNSON:
Well, you know where to come if thére 18.
And iil get this file straight.
MURPHY:
Right you are, sir. Well, regards to the
old Mr Johnson.
JOHNSON:
He'll remember you for sure! One of the Old
Cont emptibles!
MURPHY:
That's right! Well, good-morning, sir!
JOHNSON:
Good morning!
Exit MURPHY, t fe Ls h
San niet
aN A >
JeEseN-ringe or : ARGARET ad- he enters.
us n LA -)
JOHNSONA
What the hell's this? Says he 1sn't'a solder-
man at all. He's on the main door, telephones.
MARGARET: Whatt
JOINSONT
Ho-tent-introduotion-at-elly
Peug e
o dd l'uge t Al tlu
not
MARGARET: :
That's funny. Looking Rt kles He' s/on
Production' 8 pay-roll, either.
It says,
*See Personal File.
Cril
en4 ha a
JOHNS CN:
Personnel?
Te : ye
e Tol


MARGARET:
No, personal.
JOHNSON:
What, the old man!s file?
MARGARET:
I suppose 60.
JOHNSON:
Look it up.'
Cdogz)
MARGARETI burphy. 'I spoke to Murphy and he was willing
not to regleter the accident if I could assure
him a position here for the rest of his working
days, and, a pension, Iput him on the tele-
phones at the main door.'
Signed by your fath-
JOHNSON:
doodlorat What accident?
MARG ARET:
That's all 1t says.
duted
JOHNSON:
When 'ase 1t hoppent
MARGARET:
Fourteen years ago.
dad, want h
JOENSON:
He was always s0. punotilious about-these,
thinger Anyway, mate-anote of It.
MARGARETA
It-might havebeen something snali,
JOHNSON:
Then I can't understand why there was any
question ofregis tration,
All right, that's
another morning!
N la tti uh. Lyibve? 5 dic -
MARGARET:
Im-getting to hate then more and mere,
ym AA -
JOHNSON:
Well, you-seuld alwaye take ahorse out and ride
over the faces of.the poor for a-bitofamuee-
menti a nm
(n Ite w> a)
MARGARET
Oh, dear, here comes the lunoh-time humour!
JOHNSON:
I tell you what, you interview the women while
I do the men! We'd have the men in hacking
Jackets in a week---the Barnely Ridge Electric
Hunt! It' 8 no good, Margaret, -your brain site
on top of your body iike a weasel on a plum
pudding. Give yourself up to the 1ife of the
hips and be damnei!
MARGARET:
I wish I could!
JOHNSON;
You-could-alweye Gu beek home and have Ted
Lowell to tea and do a bit of wild duck-
shooting in thè hours of the pearly dew, and
drive round the estate on Saturday mornings,
aa-have a bit of elep-and-tickle in the 116-
rery after dinner! You don't shout like you,
used to. What B gone wrong? You and Ted
Lowell used to Btand on opposite sides of the
xoom ard bellow at ench other--' Hard going.
yest terday, I heard!! "REALLY?
Amy'e filly
likes it Boft!' What was all that hard and
soft business, Margaret, a Bort of erotio morse-
code?
MARGARET:
You! re more like the old man than you think.
JOENSON;
It's you who likes him, not me!
Anywas,keep.
hin-out-ofitr
MARGARET:
That's how he killed your mother.


JOENSONI
Now, shut up!' Anyway, what 8 that got to
dowith it?
MARG ARET:
I mean you cen't arrange the world by shere
force of will,
JOHNSON;
Who tries to?
MARGARETE
You-der
JOHNSON:
Pe-I? Just you listen to this.
He plays ovér Meadows's- poem again,
tortat
C ht
MARGARETE
Whols thanr
S a a -
JOHNSONE
That fellow-Heddowe, He calls it a prayer.
You see, he comes to me. They come to me
with their troubles. That'g -not-foreang-my
will:
Not Hkg the old man.
MARGARET:
It might. be our prayer, too.
CURT A I N.
Cley t Lai
Sa(ml cls ras
t tu gat ttdoei)
litte
Ne loent hew
haue Itc
picce
lechuslogy:
L UL


Au,er trype 1
1 in e
a u
kuse
7 ) 18 Au lA hu nhnu
Awouth lah.
leg
SCENEF
bungalow at/Sea Bells Holiday
Camp.
chonth later,
MG Cos HE
Your atténtion, please, folke, attention,
please! First-of all, don' t forget that
tonight's Saturday 'night and Saturday night
16 Carnisal night. Tiokets as usual at Bay.
NO.3 - By, theway, some people are.slipping
up. with their number-badges. You' a.be.sur-
L prised how many turn up in thesand every day!
Pléaso wear your badges at all times. For.
the benefitof newoomers may I repeat that
your number badgewill secure feg-entranoe
to the-oinema, pierrot theatre, aining halls,
beach cabine and ballroom, Z Tigkets for all
D outinga,. at all timea, Bay No. 3. Ne alwaye
go. to Bay No.3 or tickets, folks. You luoky
peoplel Iwish-Icould be down at the beaoh
ona day iike this! And the soothaayers say
1t's going to hold, too! A Well, folka, we had
tuo new arrivale last night. They orépt in
after au upper and, believe it or not, they were
the annual lifeof the party, Mrs Meadows, with
her husband, the bardof Barnley
Eléctric
Ridge
sworke. Toall those who aren' t
acquainted
with this famous pair who' ve been ooming here
for the last. five years and have put their
heart and soul into Sea Bells Vaudeville---
by, the way, it'e on Comoorow night) so let's
try and get a, full theatre---I repeat, to all
those who don't know them, my adzice is ask i
: your nearest neighbour, and if. he.doean't know
ask his nearèst neighbourg robeobod's-cure-to
knout Sea Bells meloomes
all, newcomers
and old-timers alike. Mourpa going to have
what our friends acroas the Ataantic call a:
whale of a, time---yes, sirree! On today' a
menu there's roast pork, baked potatocs, a choios
beas o 1 : greus, of obbage Anuseel oproutar endapple b te
sewee; anef ar afters there's prunes and
oust tard. Thank your foliss. K
Enter-JACK and ImT
# HD
JULIAt
Hearwhat he said?
MEADOWS:
1 that the oheeky one? tu naa.
JULIA:
Yes.
He's keen on me. Ever noticed?
MEADONS:
Everybody's keen on you!


Run RALSIT Zun Cme n
ul A
inak
snt
ls do
A tt MC
kas
CTu iunde
Cauh
Lrn ch- Oulin
caiel
oui
Siens ae headd
disaue
A Rail 2
Ly te
Lues
rock!
ghe


call di annova!
JULIA:
Rofaut-honeutay. Do you know what he said
tome last night when we got in?
MEADONS:
Julia
JULIA:
When you were signing up in the offioe. He
said, what about us going on the Dreamboat to-
gether tomorrow night, Ms Meadows? Did you
ever hear such Bauce?' Do you know what I
said?
HEADONS:
recoded
lepy
Voiee
JULIA:
I aaid, I would if you could-leave your apatt
behind. Yott ot
ave-Been-ht tacet
mstacit
ptegtot vat
tart
Crrinhynh k Imolle h)
MEADOWSA
You really tell them, don't you? Na
JULIA:
Kind my coiffeur!
MEADOWS:
Your what?
JULIA:
My fur!
Cpifomi)
TOGETHERA
"There's nothing 1ike love at first sight---
1f 1t's olose---0ol---and at night!
m C m t ral lun
ANNOUNCER: Attention, please. Don't forget, folks,
there are the usual raoes for kiddies at' the
crioket ground after lunoh. At three-thirty
we've got the egg-race, at threo-forty-five
the three-legge ged, at four the high jump for
under firteens.
mt ) A nath) m Ita vaa)
Tus hherym el Ites anl,
JULIAL
That' a what i'a like to
give
high
MEADOMS+
le rets on-yournerves, does-he?
JULLA
Moll
MEADOWS:
Go on, you dind him attraotive.
JULIA:
Nellum
MEADOWB:
Say so!
JULIA:
I say so!
Aseime a
TOGETHER: 'If you can love an old baboon 11ke me, it
must be---yes it mus t be---because we're
HAPPY AT THE SEAL
MEADOWS:
You do, don't you?
JULIA:
Well, yes, a bit. He'a got such sause,
if you see what I mean.
MEADOWS:
And you don't get much of that at Barnley
Ridge Electrios do you?
JULIA:
Ia say not!
MEADONS:
You get brick walle, a quadrangle 11ke a
milipary square, and ghosts. Hos tly ghosts.
That 6 what we all look like to
ien't
it? p
you,
JULIA:
To me?


MEADONS:
To you women.
JULIA:
HON do you mean?
Anmmpie
MEADOMS:
They never give you the glad eye and that sort
of thing over at Barhley Ridge, do they? They
shoot quick glanoes: faos-boson-lege; up again,
lega-hoson-face; awitoh off; pass along, the
conveyor-belt; oup otteals coming up; dirty
piece of relay-wire there, reportta shop stew-
ard. But you women are different. A You're
aoft. Look at those arns. And feel what a
(mll
lot of cheek there is to pinch. Why, you' re
lovely, you're gorgeous,
extravagant with
flesh, oid sweet. cebattuboe 8 becase you've:8 got
time flowing through you eveny des, thinga oan
grow inside you 1ike flowers, thoughta and all
that; you oan wander in and out of yourself,
take a stroll
and down your own
whereas I've GOE to stay on the tracke benckh the
time, and take a: litcle peek-o outside when
nobody's looking. I've got to be on the gui
vive all the time.
JULIA:
Ôn the what?.
MEADOWS: :
Qui vive:
JULIA:
What's that?
TOGETHER: :
MEARRNSX
'You knov what I mean when I talk French,
darling. It means I'll never learn to quench
my love, darling!"
JULIA:
People' a think we were orackers, wouldn' t they?
MEADONS:
Ana they' a be right. Meo. . When I awim and
look up at the aky like we did this morning I
feel crackers. 1
JULIA
How-do-you-moam?
MEADOWS: Efeet the sunshine and the sea are sane, une
I'm a little white, peculiar, thing floating
about and belonging nowhere.
JULIA:
And tebnt am
L ADOUST
Youre ll righ 1
JULLA
Howdd you mean, a m
HEADONS:
You' re Bane. Your body's sane. You eeem
- : with the Bun-and water and-all that.
JULI A:
Zes; the ten are funny at Bariley Ridge:
AEADONS:
As if something got behind thoir faces and
twisted up their skins, and put something round
their oyes to nake them emaller. bon't your
feel that?
JULIA:
MEADONS;
As if something gos insidetheir bodiea .and.
told them all the wrong movements? Come on,
try,dulia!
JULIA:
Are you 11ke that, then?:
MEADOWS:
Am I?


lirss)
place
ith pp


2 H
JULLA
You move allright.
MEADOWS:
Let'a put T this-May---de aove like-the
others?
JULIAS
Yes. Ho, not-realiyt
M C (svw)
ANNOUNCER: Attention, plense, folks. Firet prise in
yes terday's rafflé went to Mrs Wilicox of
Cheam, and second prize to Mr Jameson who -
hails from Courtney Suffolk. Thank you,
folks!
JULIA:
But I couian't aay what the differénce was.
MEADONS:
Try.
JULIA:
It' a that extra little bit of---I don't know!
lAy
MEADOWS;
Haven't any of them got it, too?
JULIA(CW.) TA
yes, The shop-steward in Speciality
Produots, bu Ke'a a reat good-looker. But
it ien' t thet, jrrilosm 1'. gfo,
MEADOWS:
Ebon-pou.4n.aes.shst sean, Imeure you do.
It's something sooret, isn't it---
las
A A
JULIAA
puta you all of a tis-Was!
MEADOWS:
But not a'tia-was strange, a-6i6-wan-loyaly,
JULIA:
Thnt'srightt No!
tiswe
1 ris we
MEADOWS:
It aonething you oan't see, tttelin the dark,
but
hows.you-where
Tell me
its name.
JULIA:
I coulan' t!
(mahigdnh)
MEADONS:
Love! That's the name. hIn some men you can
st see it, inthetr codies, sert et Pasy-eome
eaoy-go bedier. And in t athers ite Mot
- closed un
wontt
the body
et Craid. 7 One day it might get
in me, teer It start ed getting in me on ass-
embly work, like a piece of steel--
(Rip i bles)
JULI
Not Talk about something else quick. I They
say that shop-steward drinke. Leads his wife
a hell of a dance.
HEADONS:
You can see it in his eyes. Ittr Aary look.
Skin* 1ike parobment. He can get all the
girls he 11kes wi th his looks, bat they feel
they've had the blood aucked out -of them ter-
wards.
JULIA
How do you know?
MEADOWS:
It'a written in the sky over Barnley Ridge
Electric. Voices bave told me over the reday-
wires.
M C Lw)
ANNOUROERE Here's a further announcement, folke. Talk
of the dovil---remember I Was talking about that
lire of the party juet now, end her bardio aagho
husband? Well, here a a visitor for them.


Marti !
an Aclm
Taaulls
You see how populer they are? Will Mr
or Mrs Meadows trip along to the office and
pick him up? He's rolled up in ene-of the
very latest Alfa-Romeoa!
And he's oalled
Mr Johnson!
hu pfmunes stap.
JULIA:
Who?
MEADONS:
Hr Jobnson?!
ARNOUNGER: I'11 juet repeat that. There's a gentleman.
by the name of Mr Johnson waiting in the off-
ice and would Mr or Mre Neadows please come
along and pick him up?
I haven't got
to BRy it again, lave ** Piseghant I?
you, folkat
JULIA:
Hr Johnson? Who's Mr Johnson?
MEADOWS:
You mean to Bay you don't know?
JULIA:
on, couton't: Not/the Mr Johnson?
HEADOWS:
Hust be!
JULIA:
But not the the Hr Johnson?
MEADOWS:
The-the himself. Must be.
Mz a wb.
JULIA:
Yes, but---he can't! ZHere, quiok, I've
to get dressed! Take bim down to the reecot
or something!
KEADOWS: d You're a snob.
thu
musip-k
huy-lu)
JULIA:
Well, I might beh but just you koep him out of
here while I get dreseed.
MEADOWS:
Ho might. like to see you in your heach-wear,
Julia. They day he takes after hia dad.
P-A L 3 - haly - Lad
JULIA
Fancy Mr Johnson coming down bere to see us!
MEADOUS:
He' sgot a house up the road, that'e why.
Small place with eésenty-tapee-rom.
t5 hrad uma
Enter GODEREY JOHNBON, dnm - - M
MEADOWS:
Siimeyt Wele!
JOHNSON::
Surprised? vover fergot-you, you-see?
Thought ra walk over. Théy told me your
bungalow. Embarrasaing chap that, at the gola
door. Has a voice that carries. Do you
mind me walking in like this?
MEADOWS:
JOHNSON:
'Give us this day--
Remember?
MEADOWS:
Yea!
JOHNBON:
Well, how are you?
MEADOWS:
Fine, sir! Won't you sit down?
JOHNSON:
No sire down here, please.
MEADONS:
My wife went into a blue panic wben she heard


you were coning. She's getting into a drees.
JULIA (from the other room) Jack!
MEADOWS:
I said you' d probably prefer her as she was!
fomguis.
JOHNSON;
I'm sure she' a charming in any/drece!
MEADOUS:
Sho18, Hr-Jemnson,
HH whe abupriset
You could have knooked me down with a fea ther
when your name came over the speakers! Thén
i thought, Oh, yes, Mr Johnson lives just up the
road, what was 1t you oalled it, Mr Johnson, T.
Devii somethingor other?
Kwr a C L A
JOHNS ON:
Devils-Brig- And we aiwaye used te eall eld
Maughley Bay/Devil' 8 Reach. Bert-offamily
namet
MEADOUS:
Goont What
Et tin
JOINSON;
hat's right.
Yes, I suddenly got an 1dea.
I'11 go uni over and see old Meadows. Iknen
Houwere on holiday. I was having a chat with
Personnel about you, and they told meshi-g
AEADOWS:
ent Those boys are real seers, aron't they?
Knou every thing!
By La wa
JOHNSON;
icantell yousomething, Hr Meadons---I don't
went to tadk shop, lovely day like this, but
there never was a bad Peraonel report about
you.
MEADOWS:
doont Aneyou-sure?
JOHNSON:
There's nobpubt about tt And I'll tell you
another fage, which I know all along. There.
len't a college man in the Personnel section.
MEADOWSE oddidl well, B spurred meonall theseyoars,
8 uppose. Sad, in a way. Like losing a
dirty old friend.
JOHNSON:
If you've got your eye on a plaoe in Speciality
Products, why don't you apply? It'e perfectly
s imple!
MEADOWS;
Never thought of it!
JOHNSON:
That's what I
you'd apend the next ten years
dreaming of bagnte Products, and all you've
got to do is get an application form.
HEADOWS:
That'sright. It's Funny.
JOENSON:
I'll tell you something, i Meadows, you're the
first chap in thoplant tho yeil E talked to
mes I won't beat about the bush. I'm going to
tell you outright, you' re the first working man
I've ever had a/oonversation wi th.
MEADONS:
Go on!
JOHN3 ON;
The firstreal co-averoation, They won't talk
to me,/zousest
JULIA (From the other room) He's always been a talker, Mr
Johnson.
JOENSON:
Oh. Yes, indeed, Mrd Meadows!


MEADOWSA
She's a scream!
You want to see her on
Vaudeville, Mr Johnson! L A
Enter JULIA, u
V A
attrV.
MEADOWS:
Julia! What'have you done that far?
HULIA:
Good morning, Mr Johnson. It certainly 1s
a pleasure 8 eeing you down here with us!
JOHNSON:
Good morning, Mrs Headows. I don't Xaux
think your husband exagg gérat ed.
ALant erat
- stiet
JUDIA:
And you oame all this way to see us?
ib amile. pleesae walk.
JOHNSON:
Phatsrigtts A I was telling your husband---
well, you heard, didn't you?
JULIA:
That's right! I always listen when I'm next
door: It's ailly not to, lan't 1t?
JORNSONT
Oh,agre!
MEADOWS: :
Talk abota scream!
JULIA:
My Jaok B alwaye been a talker. I knew when
he told"me he was going up for an interview
I said to myself, hef1i talk the hind-leg off
IV a donkey, even if it's the-prime minis ter!
MEADONS - f took cA Duryt) a poein along.
JULIA:
You what?
NEADOWS:
Itook one of thoso poems along. 'Give us
this day.'
JULIA
You didn' t!
JOENSON:
He-hed-mebboatffor A moment. Hantad tobor-
rewmy tape-poeorder!
Did you ever hear any-
thing like 1t? Comes to the bosa to record
his own to icel
MEADONS:
Talk about lagh!
JULIA:
I think you've got more sauce than Casanova!
JOHNSON:
Who?
MEADOWS:
The camp announcer. Always call him Casanova.
SULIA
You-know, the man-with the vo ice!
JOHNSON:
Oh, yeoz La louf chap a hegak.
vau
MEADOWS:
8he told him to leave" behind last night when
he tried to get leoxo7t
JULIA:
Well, 18's a nuisance, 1an't it, Mr Johnson,
when men are alwaye on?
JOHNSON:
I agree
MEADOWS:
You' re a real wire, Julia!
e old arf Crma lt
JULIA:
late
k ad youat our Ohristmas party yot,


Mr Johneon?
pyrmise
JOHNSON:
No. But Ishali be there this-yeer. With my
wife.
JULIA:
on, lovelst The old Mr Johnson always us ed to
come!
MEADOWS:
Used to laugh himself siok!
JULIA:
ateright Isee your wife sonetimes Mr
Johnson, at the works. Such a lonely lady she
looks, so sad!
JORNSON:
She looks Bad?
JULIA:
Well, lovely with it, if you see what I mean.
JOENSON:
She isn't too keen on the work. She won't
give it up, either.' She must work, and that's
the only Work I oan offer her.
AULLA
-the-wenhe,Hou-mean2.
JCANSONT
JULIA:
Shoought to atay at home, then. Jack said
you'a got a lovely big lake. You wouldn't
oat oh me going to Barnley Ridgé Electric if I
had a lake and grounds and a butler, Jack neid,
and horses and stablea!
place :
JOHNSON:
It's still my father'
There's all you could
wish there, that's Erk.
JULIA
And she doesn' t like it? Nhat R shame!
JOHNSON:
Oh, she'a like it well enoughi If I was there
ali the time. But our money 8 in Barnley
Ridge Electrio, and vithout that there wouldn't
be a house, so there's no eolution, you Bee!
JULIA:
What a shame!
JOHNSON:
She doean't like my scheme too well, either.
The interviening soheme. But your husband'e
beon a triumph for ne, Hre Meadows.He was the
firat chap who réally talked. And it makes
the whole scheme worthwhile. I do belleve ny
dad never really talked to one man in the works.
Just those quick, gruff exchanges employers and
their workmen go in for, if you sée what I mean.
JULIA:
Obyost It's hetter to
down to a nice
taik if you can! And Jacet talk the hene to
roost, he really would!
MEADOWS:
And now 'you're here, Mr Johnson, what do you
think about old SeaBells?
JOHNSON:
Well, haven't seen much of it yet. Tha sea's
all right, but how do you B tand these loudspeak-
era all day?
HEADOMS:
Thought you'd say that. You oan turn them
down. Turn them off if you 1ike, can't you,
Julia?
JULIA:
That'a right!


MEADOUS:
But then you mies all the news. Privaoy's a
matter of the heart, Mr Johnson, don' t you
think s0? ition-te-tettorof geography.
JOHNSON:
Well-said!
MEADOMS:
How did I get privacy when I was a boyk with
wueless
the/tatto on and my mum and dad talking across
the table adlthbtine? Butaid, Hore 60
than now. Sea Pebls 1s all right if you let
yourself go. Jus t al nk in. Other people
aren't outside eaoh other in thie 1ittle virld,
Afyousee what-i-mean,
Not like in your
JOHNSON:
Howao you know about my wor1d? Exouse-us,
Hry Heatows, thiswan our theme last timen
KEADONS:
That'a ightt Hell, I use my eyes. In
your world you're not Joined-t ogether ina ide,
not1ike we are, You're all alone. Bobam,
partly. But they"re not, outside. Some of
the young ones might be. But most not.
JOHNS ON:
Well, you may be right, damn 1t! Neare
aloner
MEADOWS:
Liaten to that, Julia! When he saye &damn
1t!' Hotagot - JAAX eul stydey noan thet
JULIA:
I think it's lovely!
MEADOWS:
Know what they call their house?
JULIA:
MEADOHS:
Devil's Brig.
JULIA:
Na tur've ntiid
JOHNSON:
Ter,It's aupposed to look 1ike a ahip. K
MEADONS:
Liaten to the way he says it! Nothing namby-
pamby. Not 11ke some of these boys who ahoot
up from college!
(sil k SUMIA)
JORNSONA
God knows where the "aevil' came from!
MEADOWS:
'God', a 'damn'! It's a soream!
JOENSON:
They say one of the squires used to play hell
with his tenants a couple of hundred years ago.
Looks 11ke a ahip with two mast ts---long ohim-
neye, you know. Rag to be seen in a mist,
then it seally_does lookslike an eerie sort of
brig, especially if Bome of the w indows are
ughted
it casts a ahadow on ta the mist!
4 wead
2 inugue Lnas
TAE
JULIA
Oh, i-couldn't-bear-3tt
JOINSON:
You'd love IV!
MEADONST
or course, she would. She's only saying.
JOHNSON:
r'd 11ke to invi te you both over one day.
JULIA:
Xou wouldn't! You never would!
MEADOWS:
She'd loveitt Look at her face, Mr Johnson.
Now who's the snob here? Look at that dress


she put on. All for you. That's exaotly
what ahe would have done fifty years ago, a
hundred, two hundred. Women nover change.
I That' a whatk was trying to tell her when you
oame in. And she'a right. Hor snobbery' 8
right, Well, lan't it? You're the
there a no getting away from that. You boeil
the tune. And I'm one of the pipers. You
can't get away from that, either, All that thi
lovely womanly softness realis sesithat f you
1ike, Mr Johnaon, I oatr rise, and that-if you
like I gan fall. of course, we've gpt trade
unions health insuranoe and all that. But
you' re atill the boss. That hasn't ohanged
and it never will. Communiam' te the same,
I always tell the boye thnt down in Product-
long when they're on about the W ithering away
of the
and anarohy and all thate, I
say, it'4 ctetorend be
eame. Rota be a 8 mmisear, gn
then, ir he didn't like the shape of my nose
1he'
he leouid send up a report that wasea deviat-
1oniat, and gaa be liquidated. A You've still
got the boss. Do you kmnow what stabted me on
poetry, Mr Johnson?
(dayes)
JORNSONA
MEADOWS:
Green fielde.
That was my niokname at achool.
Meadows, you Bee. You can't get poetry unlese
you've got green fields inaide you, Hr Johneon.
JULIA:
What was that one once, about a heath in summer?
MEADOWS:
I remember a heath in summer
When the grase was burned brown
hid And we turned in the grass in the summer
Knowing we were slaves of the town,--
that one?
Slaves of the town in the summer,
Cogp in a wheel we can' t see,
h A Let' 8 turn in the grass this summer
And try to imagine we're free!
JULIA:
They Just pour out of him. they/always about
prison. Ent But he isn't a Bad man. Look
at him now.
Cmuy srjtti 5m)
Chechn
MEADOWS:
Look at yourself. A - The ambition ofher 1ife
1s to have her name aut up for ghair man of the
social committee at Barnley BAdgo, Mr Johnson.
When you omer to the Christmas Vaudeville this
year, shet11-be-thiniking-of-ehatr 2he'll say,
Come on, Jack, let's give it to them tonight,
Nr and Mrs Johnson are there and my name night
go up, you nevèr know!
JULIA:
Well, it's true. I can't but tell the truth,
can it
JOHNSON:
Abd why not? Better that someone who W ants it
has it, than someone who begrudges the time.
The ciuhr
JULIA:
Well, it'a true, it does take time! Rigging
ietten -Lap-sho-stugemmse the catering.
And there's
no peauniary motive!
MEADOWS:
No what?
Crip)
OLOETHERA L
'You know what I mean when I talk French, dar-
ling; it means I'11 never learn to quenoh my
my lome 'u Lu - rmerch


love, darling!'
JULIA:
Mrjohnson thinkswere madt
MEADOWS:
It's in our turn. ' Wedo it at Sea Beals
too. Youknow, weadd little toucheseadh
time.
JOHNSON:
Oh, yes!
Sani - 1os hiup.
JULIA;
Life is sad sometimes, ien't it? You don't
know where you are exactly. It comes over you,
that's what we often sey. How would you like
a swim, Mr Johnson? The sea'e like a mill-
pond today!
JOHNSON:
Just what I thought on my way down. But I've
got nothing with me. Not thing to swim in.
JULIA:
otrat* s7 easys Bey No. 3'11 fix you up,
won't they, Jack? Iuraks Trunks, towels,
bathing caps, dressing gowne, anything pou like!
JOHNSON:
Sounds delightful!
Tiyg mhu Iuar
MEADOWS;
The big mistake, Mr Johnson, o to think of work-
ing people as the same as you only they get less
monoy, Yett tey a rot
different, leithes!
Seewhat L mean? M:I'm sure you've got lurking in
your mind somefere that the worker gets used to
it---because_he basn't been developed like you
have. Don' t you Bay that to yourselr? And
you'; 11 bring him out, won' t you? Questions,
sympathy. I bet you neyer sit down and think,
now what woula I feel Mie-doing
finger-dexterity
work?
Ur -
2 JORNSON: :
atestrueg to a point. Leto-beseme- jast
oan' t inagine ayself doing it! Not day after
day! I Just oan't imagine it, muchs as Imight
try., And I've often triod.
Analedow ai
not
MEADONS:
Just what Jsay. It's -never-beenan your 1ife. Bw
At nor cant imagine
either! Sounda funny, a
that, axther doesn't itt Yet-itye-tone thework,
I did assembly work for going on seven years.
Firty-fize telephone-relaye a day. I did
itz
but Ioan' t imagine it. So I'm not 80 different
frem you. Yet I am. See what I mean? You
Bay to yourself, Well, my mind's been developed,
their' s haan't. So their' 8 is asleep while
they're on the Job. It 1sn't true, Mr Johnson.
They're numbed The mind gets numbed. The same
as yours would.
why I can't imagine do-
ing 1t. Because thery. B nothing to imagine.
So where does that get us? I'1i tell you what.
Stage Two.) You think you're more responeible
Dali:
$han working people. You've got more respone ib-
mbiig
ilities. You talk, move about places, you're
always looking round to see what you can do Jmd L
Sheul W organise something. The worker doean't say any-
thing, does he, he s tays inside hie. work, he
doean't look after anybody else like you, he
reade his paper like, a slave in the morning,
he takes what he gets
the time,
all
peace or war,
1t's all dished up to him, ien't 1t? See what
I mean? Isn't that more reeponeible, what you've
got?
JOHNSON:
I've got more responsibilities on my shoulders,


yes. Well, it'a obvious. A workerts got
himself-and'hie family to-look-efter. I've
got about two thousand workere, and a few othér
concerna as well.
MEADOWS:
Just what I say! See, Julia? If I've got
fifteen chicken runs to look after, I'm firteen
times as reaponeible as a man with onelfott. dis
aean't make sense! Suppose let all my chiok-
ens get Towl-pest, and-let-tiibe tread each other
to death? Am I otil1/difteer"tinen aB responsi-
ble? Suppose the fellow with one chicken-run,
Just five or six oapons and a couple olf hens,
Buppose he looks after them and goes down to have
a look at them four or five aimes a day? Supp-
oBe he gets eggs as big as your fiat, double
drephayp
yolkers, and the man with fifteen runs 1eaves it
all to aomebody else and a tinks up the nighbour-
hood with'hie benwinge? Nho's more responsible?
Logbo, Mr Johnson?
fuith 4 sneilj Bac a DULIA)
JORNSON
All right, you've gotme floored. Not quite
what Imeant,but still---
MEADONS:
or course rvegot you,floored.
A man can look
after his wife and twokids and a 1ittle bit of
garden and have more reopons ibility Ahis 1ittle
finger than a fellow who owns a 8 treet-full of
houses. It's 11ke privacy, Mr Johnsonr #
dontta matter-ef goography. People don(t wear
it. You never see it. A And here's Stage Three.
Just thought-of-it. Sorry tohurry you along,
Mr-Jehnson, but why dontt you-see it2 Why-dont
xou-see th man
Gapone: bility? Beeause-he
deesn't Fshow *to He doeen't wear S in his talk
Xike you. He doesn't affeot other people, does
he? He's small. It
y ae
doean'sgo beyond his tany
little house and ate-mifezand his 1ittle bit of
back garden. But who'e to say he's less resp-
onsible for that? And-who'g tocey hels mora
reaponsible? Me.
11 eay itr He's more
responsible. Here's the reason. Beabuse
he doean't show it. See what I. meanyt He
dooen't wear it on the outeide. It's real res-
ponsibility. It's not in his orain you sée.
dea-autontie-rexupiom It's like having
a heart of gold.
e-dopent comeout Intutk.
Youwear i$-kneide, and-it's-never seen. Soe
whatmeant Stage Four. Here's the real
difference between you and the working man.
He doesn't vant to organise aything. Rearty
Ae doesn' t want to get on. He'a all right as
he 18. He' 11 get a better wage a he can.
But he won' t le ave his street in a hurry, he
won't sortor try and think of himself outside
his Job, in another one. That a why I never
thought of applying for Speciality Products,
I've got my life alroady, you see. It wouldn't
change my 1ife. What 1a ay 11fe? It'a in the
front room at home, it's my wire sitting here,
it's in old Maughley Bay every year, in my mum
and dad, the oanteen of a morning when we.go down
for a smoke. Hork's not my life, you see.
enly theMonkla ebanges But NOPE'S your iife.
- It's underneath all the time.
It's in your mind, working round all the thme.
I can feel it whiie you're looking at me. It's
11ke, a heart beating inside you. Thoughts---
that's your 1ife. But we're not 1ike that.
We don't make our own lives, ifyan owhavr


mean, We don' t bake it with thoughte It's,
just. there in' the morning when you get_ up, and
you sort or fall into it every. day. In that
sense we're not reaponsible. - We don't make our
lives as we go along. We-don't look outside.
It's.the same, for all the workers, Mr Johnaon,
all the worid over, I don' t care what you Bay.
They've got real responsibility. To the people
they live W 1th.
JOHNSON:,
And what' have I got responsibility to?
MEADOWS:
Thoughts. 3 Happinese : of your workers, bèrpre
you've even shaken hands withthem, That' de
a thought. A better worldr that.e another,
thought. Better output. A worker doesn't
go on like that.
JORNSON:
No, he leavesit'th me,
MEADOWS:
That's right. -But don't you think you don't
need him for all that. You do. You.needihim
11ke he is, too. Because if he thought 1ike
you, with all those Adeas,r hié brain. went,
round, all the-time 1ike youre does, he wouldn't
do the work, be wouldn' t let himseir get numbed,
his old brain wouldn'tgive him any peace. He'a
say the Bame as you, it can't imagine myself do-
u, ingk not day after day." But he doean't think
11ke that. He doesn' t think of 9 day-after-day'.
It'B Just now he. thinko of. The canteen, the
wife at home, Friday night shopping night, a kip
over the fire S*X*XAdX Saturday aft ernoon. It's
not day: after day. That' s a thought. Bee what
I mean? See what I mean, Julia?
JULIA:
Yes, well, I do, - sort of!
MEADOMS:
There's a good girl. You want a swim, don't
you, duok?
JULIA:
Well, I would, yes!
MEADONS:
That's right! See what I mean, Hr Johnson?
You think you can ohange the working man with
higher Wages and all that, you think you can get
that mind un-numbed. Xou oan' t! He'a
ambitions. Good thing for you he
A0.FOr
He uldn't do the Mork othermise! So don't
try end get his mind un-numbed too much, because
he'll lay down hia tools! Aukxdanktx But he
ian't a Berap less olever than |you are for that,
and he 1en't iess resppns ible. He doesn't have
ideas like you. That' 8 the onty difference.
He hasn't got these organising Ideas.
JOHNBON:
If it's true that you've got no ambitione, why do
you want to get into Speciality Producta?
MEADOWS:
To be under the acientista. It's just a fad..
It ian't the money. It'e Just the feel of 1t.
Do you see what I mean? But then again, I'11
teli you something, Kr Johnson. I'm aifferent.
Perhaps they're all getting 1ike me. Perhape
we're
on she move! But I'm one of those
people tho middle olasses are made out of!
JOHNSON:
MEADOWS:
I don't feel at home with the boye any more.


TOLIA-LLs
Duli: O!SHUT UP!
He nd khi
SAM Ywer e dei
Drliilen) He Jela
Resg
wkil
ce sta C
bc cnetoe
4 Lne
A Al
Dach - : UL
lEi ws C


I'm lookitg out all the time. That's.a bit
of ambition starting, I suppose. The front
room' e atarted to feél sturfy to me.
JULI A:
How do you mean there, Jack?
MEADOWS:
It's all right, auok! It'e 1ike
it's a bad woria I'a waking up to, Mahdrg but unite
myeelfbaok to sleep again, it you see what
IE mean. I'm the sort that goes to Amerioa and
never thinke of the old country again, I fall
for all the gadgeta and the demooratic polite-
ness and. the feeling I don't have to touch
to anybody. I know it's a lot of rot, ut
AP. like. a kind of Beed in mo, if you see what
I mean..
JOENSON:
You'rè very clear about yourself, aren't you?
MEADOUS:
I've got to be. Ae I say, onoe awake, you
oan't go to sleep again. You've got to think
it out.
JOHNSON:
And. suppoee all the world laaked ambition,
including pebple like me?
MEADOWS:
It'a be all *ight. We wouldn't have this
sort of Horld. But life'd go on. What"s
thinking, HB Johnson? - It's Juot a apeok on
the worid: We're just alive. We haven't got
to push it along ali the time with our thoughte.
That a all atbitions are,--thoughts. It doesn't
need;our thoughts, you
not to get going.
Lare'a already there. oétt that scares you a
bit, doear an't it? You like to have it olea.
You don't want to olose your eyes and Just get
moved along. Xou like to see where you're
going.
JOHNSON:
Yee. I'm scared of the dark. Men do' wioked
things in the dark. Ever notioed that?
MEADOWS:
Do they? You can abolish the dark but they'11
do it in the 1ight Just the same, if they're go-
ing to do it at all.
JOHNSON:
You can talk 11ke that because your mother and
father réfused to live in the dark any more.
They star ted protecting themselves against
people like my father.
MEADOWS:
That's right..
JOHNSON:
And now their 2ives are clear.
KEADOWS:
And the heart'a gone out of it. You oan change
Barnley Ridge Electric as muoh as you 1ike, Mr
Johnson, you oah give me air-conditioning and
lovely iavatories and a recreation-room and
holidaye with pay, but that work' 11. never be quite
right, it'll never be quite right to sit down
in that assembly room turning out difty-five
relays in a day, I. don't care what you say.
There'11 alvays be something wrong with 1t.
Just take the soledule---clozing in and clock-
ing out---
JOHNSON:
We oan change the echedule. Ho aan reduce the
hours of work. We're trying to all the time.
NEADONS:
Why, if the work's 8o oongenial? Work's good


for a man, they sayt Therens something wrong
with that' work, you know it, thpt 6 why you
want to out it' down. And thatswhat you
can' t bear, Mr Johnson. You can't bear the
idea that hothing's going to solve the
short of rolling up the whole thing. gEocionte You
bear the thought that it's all wrong, from top
to bottom, odn you? Nhat, all thds e buildinge,
and peoplé with big deske, and millions of mon-
ey, how can all that be wrong? But why not?
Why shouldn' t the whole world go w: rong?
JOHNSON:
Where would itget us toisay so? Into a rath-
er lonely position, that_a all.
MRADONS:
Exactly! You Gon't like the idea any more than
your father aide Because it's your world.
You Bay, Where bould the truth get us? You dontt
seem to care 1fit 18 the truth or not. I'm
Bust saying what the truth 16. And you have
to ask all the time, Where will it get us?
W111 it do us any good? And that's ambition,
That'ya what I dean by ambition. It's behind
everyone of your thoughts. You oan't think
without it! It 8 what you mean by thinking.
You mean thinking what to do. And I mean say-
ing the truth. You can' tIet go of the world
and say, 'It' 8 all rot!' - You' ve got yo have
your nose in it :11 the tine, organising. But
I can. It's a kind of relier. I
1t'a
a lot of rot. Then I oan say, All
want to live, r11 eink myself in a bit
rot.
It meana twist
ting myself up a bit, but it's got
to be done.
JOHNSON:
Doesn't that mean, I agree to be rotten?
MEADOWS:
No, no! The work doean', touch pe, you see!
The work doesn't touch us? That' s where you're
wrong. There you are again.. Ambition again.
You'd have to think to yourselr, : All right, I'i1
go rotten! Thero'a alwaye have to be a thought
in your 1ife, always something. deliberate, you
couldn't get' away from it! A
JOHNSON:
And my work's rot, too?
MEADOWS:
Wes, of course! But you won't let yourself
see 1t! You oling to it. I don' t. I've
got my 1ife. Hy work 1en't my life.
JOHISON:
So we all become 1ittle selves believing in
nothing, only how rotten everything is outaide?
MEADOWS:
Oh, po! It'a no gopa being a little self.
That' B your world! That' 8 what I said Just
now people aren't Jdined-together in your
worid. You're all little individuals. Not
in. my world. Nhen I Bay my 1ife I mean the
other nan' a 1ife, too it'e the same in ny
worldt We're aii Joined together underneath.
We' ve got the same heert-w-the same thoughts,
almost.
JULIA
Yea, it's funny, we seen to accept things more.
MEADOWS:
There you are. She's got it. Trust a woman.
It's accepting thinge. People don't stick out
of themeelves. in our world. But in your worla
people bave got to make conversation all the




time, haven't they? - They've got to be BOC-
iable. I've noticed it. In our world it
just comes. Yet we. make it as well. It'a
funny. We aren't thinking. Thatde the diff-
erence.
ANNOUNCERE Attentlon,.plense, Just a reminder---on today's
menu there 8 roast pork, baked
peaso spriggmohoice or/tabhannes Breonet Ebproutr, potatonesa apple
sauce; and for afters there' a prunes and oust-
ard. Now thore are still a lot of uncollected
tickets for tonight's dinner---there'1l be a
special sitting at five-forty-five for those
lucky people who've. booked for the Dreamboat.
The Dreamaboat leaves South Pier at ***tan
minuter a quarter to seven prompt. Will all
Hoonlight Dreamers please remonber to take
woollios along, it gets chilly out at sea when
DuLtl
the sun goes doun? The Droamboat dooks again
at 1.20. tomorrow morning, and the Dreamers can
2 Acty
dream in bed until nine-thirty if they vant to,
there' 11 be'a special late aitting for break-
fast untii ten otelock. Well, that' a about all,
folke. A Bon appétit, that's French for have a
good biow-out! And may. I remind.you that the
olearance bays are open all day for queries?
Thank you, overybody!
nuce, AA
JULIA:
The Dreamboat's lovézy, Mr Johnson. You. look
over the side.
It feels 1ke Gliaing, decon't
( it, Jack?
MEADONS:
They awitch the engines ' off.. Right'out at sea,
aand-you our 6ee thelights Lof Haughley Bay! A
And There's glass underneath in one. of-the oabins,
ane you can Bee the fish through. Youget a
lovely supper. Rmember, Jack? # Oùr fagest?
A: - axle
HEADOWS:
"our faces in the wat er
Lay
Shake when
- wind-z
- penember
1t, duck,
JULIA:
o re E
It'e ebout the. Dreamboat, Mr
Johnson!
MEADOWS:
IShake when there' 6 wind..s Well, Hr Johnson,
have I given you something. to think about this
time?
JOHNSON:.
Oh, yeu, you'va done thett It's partly why I
came.
I expected it.
JULIA:
He's marvellous tuiker really- -Ho, tells me
thinge I never knew about myself. - Shall we
book for tihe-Dreamhoat? Al1 ofus? Let's!
JOHNEONT
What, me as well?
MEADONS:
Why not?
JOINSON:
Itts 60- late!
Lintn a &' se - 1 : lal te,
MEADOHS:
- we'll give you lunoh and show round)sea Bells.
I'm-not-scared or- youlike E WHBe:
JOHNSON:
Yot-vere-seared?
MEADOWS:
Oh,yast
JORNSON:
It' strue tt a 8ad 1tre.
Scaring people


va )iVs
Du tur i tre war
halze iin tre wind
Is the istta
her duot
re # Fflus
1 rhis
joy
Ha or
I Ie X
fato
a feen D prin


before I start.
JULLAE
It'g because tets talked, Mr Johnson Once
hela talked hinself out,hels never skared.
JOHNSONS
11 ight I1l strike a bargain!
TN come-
into your Horld, You_eome ato mind, Rau Ve'il
go on the Dreamboat. Ther we'll drive to
Devil's Brig and you'll stay the woek-end!
JULIA:
SAM: Ail
JOENSONS
egt
INon't heargou say not
FLADOWST
a right.
ital
JULIA:
Jack
JOHNSONT
It'g donet Youril bothcome outwith me!
JULIA
But we coulan' t, Ir Johnson!
The house is so
big, from what they Bay!
JOHNSON:
Welt, dtd a new experience for you.
Aud
JULIA:
And think of the trouble! ia your wife!
lhove
JOHNSON: L Bervanta! Yousee, nene-ef-your-objeotions
heldt
JULIA:
I've got nothing to wear!
MEADOWST
hel
r Johnson, that's
time.
JULIAS
And Jack can't dress for dinner. Ho hasn't
got one!
JOHNSON:
We hardly ever dress for ainner, unless the
old man oomes down. X - e us A 2 -
duge ch hold
JULIA
a I ae old man?
MEADONS:
Theold Kr Jobnson.
JHLA
Well, there-you-ars, that Bettles it, #e
oeuldrtt!
Manl
JORNSONT
Dut-hg-dotan'e-bite, Mre Meadows! lie migh
come_down.after dinner. But Sunday nighte ae
usually Suays apstairs with 11 whisky.
Lsit
JULIA:
But, Jack, I wouldn't know which knife and fork
and' that Bort of thing!
unth 6 wrih A JAM)
MEADOWSA sproievelt, here's your ahance to learn. Houtathink
she was acared, wouldn't3ou? Imthe one whe' s
scared. Shetil carry it through like a queen.
JOHNSON:
Therel 11 be S thing to carny through, nothing
intimidatingt You might even find us Jolly.
peoplet
JULIA:
All right, thent Th. MC turt nas t.
ham
HEADONS:
She'seaddst.
JOHNGONT
Theret You'vemademade-me-iappy. Howue can go
for a swime
JULIAT
Taallofatramblel


MEADONS:
You' re a woman.
Natural reserves, a ) eh, Mr
Johngon?
JOHNSON:
That's right!
MEADONS:
I can't remember thoso lines. your faces
in the water-y
JOHNSON:
They'1l geme to you, I expeot.
JULIA:
Hére are your thinge, Jack. Let's go for a
awim. It feels8o funny.
JOENSON:
What?
JULIA:
Being with you!
Saca, La DULIA Li
MC(ove) Exemnt.
reol - Le
elc
OTRCEL
Attention, please, folks. May I remind you
to wear your number-badges at ali times, please?
They're etill turning up in the sand! Please
wear your badges at all tines. For the bene-
fit of newcomers may I repalot that your number-
badges will secure free entry to the oinema,
plerrot theatre, dining halls, beach-cabins,
and ball room. Thank you, folks!
Conshup
RUN RABBIT RUn -
aud Dachr Dudi I -
SAM
bee an. 13 eu
ttE 25. Mfread yue


cato
Iruy,
chnnot
the
Le -lc P
lav . L
SCENE:. A/room Et C Devint C BEn the following
evening. -
PENAY
Enter-iate-sse AND JULIAA ae duleij Offee. hun
JULIA: -
You iook over: the side, and you-can see your
faces in the water. ft's ever so,
lovely! KT
What do"you think-of. us being here2 MrsJohn
SonT
MARGARET:
We lead different kinds of lives, r I'd say.
We don't really mix. It's another of my
husband's big ideas. Am I too frank?
JULLAS
GARETS
0 sit-down.
Onws!
ial 1?
JULIA AP
A It's the men make the differenoes, If it was
left to the women there wouldn't be any.
lvld be woce
MARGARET:
Theretd Juat pe naked power.
JULLA
How do-you-mean?
HARGARET:
Therald only 9 the aimple things. Roomsl
roads, food, Nothing to drean about: But
then they Bay I've got a mas ouline turn of
mind.
JULIA:
Have you got any children, Mrs Johnaon?
MARGARET:
(Pausy k the
Mah
JULIA:
Why not?
N Hart auoy Shaut :mps liti
dast
MARGARET,
They just haven't come.' I My husband doean't
s'eem very keen, either.
JULIA:
Why not? 7- L clnehui
MARGARET:
He said to me once, Animals in oaptivity don' t
breed.
JULIAT
Animalst
MARGARET:
That'sus.
JULIA:
But you aren't i gaptivey. Yontre-free.
Look at this house.
MARG ARET:
We could be free. So could we all.' I could


benist
Sne izha ryp k Dul-.
Zei: LL


run off with Ted Lowell.
He' 8 in love with
me. But I don't.
JULIAT
Hae-he-esid-so?
MARGARET:
Oh,yes.
JULI A:
He really smells of horses, doesn't he?
(lasytis)
MARGARETA I must tell him that! He'd be proud!
JULIA:
No, I mean in a nice way. Very outdoors.
But 1t wouldn't do to let go, would it?
MARGARET:
In what way?
JULIA:
Let men come it over you.
They always will,
given the ohanoe!
MARGARET:
I don't have any temptations like that because
Ihenever really got started with my husband.
srill
I'm aiwaye waiting for that.
JULIA:.
Are ou, eet
But heleever setteeand
kindt Yot neven knou, de-you? You ought to
heve seen him on the Dreamboat laat-night Tday.
And you're 80 pretty!
MARGARET:
He Bays he's fed up with my hard moral core.
I'm from one of those countfy families that run
rough-shod over their chiadren. Grew up
rough. So :t', benjing ut khor 'eh.
JULIA:
I've s'een you at Barnley Rtage Electric.
You're always alone. It seems 80 Bad. You
ought to come and join in with us.
1r. wh
MARGARET:
I'a make eteryone. uncomfortable.
U ase
JULIA:
He got interested in Jack, It wae the poems.
And-Jack-told-aie about-Ses-Bells, Wasn't
that funny I nearly went through the floor
when I heard Casanova say over the blower---
MARGARET:
Wagts
Gontoeka
Casanovay
Le acn mc
JULIA:
The ennouneer- at Sea Beils. Hete keen - 'on me.s
That why Bay 4t-wouldn't de
let go.
Well, A11 of a sudden his voice comes through.
saying tas Mr Johnaon's waiting for us' at the
gate! But it doesn' t 86 eem so atrange now.
Choshrg - 5
111never forget thishouse. Fancy having
a lake of your own! And that lovely dinner-
table, with piotures ound thè wall!
Con
MARGARET: ) I'd' changé over, with you-any day,
JULIA
Touwoutdn'tt
MARGARETE
Tes,iwoulds
JULIA:
or course, I
you can't get very
here. You Haupposs twinkle your toes at the tfire.
MARGARET:
Oh, I've_got a little aneak-hole upstairs.
It's so tiny you'd laugh.
JULIA:
They won't be drunk, wili they?
MARGRRETT
thot


PANNY
Dalis:
Deurgir:
Nual redp
opn Khe gal.
aei: Caranova' lea E


JULIA
The men-
MARGARET:
Oh, no! They only stay a moment.
toops
JULIAF
MOTE E
MARGARETT
Itta always been done here. The men like their
port and. a.bit of manly talk. All except my
husband. He says 1t's conservative.
Lele
JULIA:
But it doesn't seem right/ Sending the women
away!
MARGARET:
The women leave, They eren'tsent away.
My mother always used to tell me that. They
leave to powder their noses and have a bit of
Nomanly talk. My mother was an. independent
woman with a olear, forcerul mind. Ànd I
know, nowadays, it'a better to stay with the
men ir you can and drink their disgusting port,
because' the women aren't up to much.
JULIA:
You ought to come to our socials, Mrs Johnson.
You'd have ever such a good. time!
MARGAR ET:
I wanted to ask you just now, do you have any
children?
JULIA:
Oh, no!
MARGARET:
But you will have?
JULIA:
reyeoured! Toke-w1ly-son't-487
MARGARET:
Scared of what?
JULIA
Soared of having a baby. PIt'e 80 silly in a
womany,, ini a
MARGARET:
But what scares you?
JULIA:
I don! t know! It's just the idea of it com-
sut ing/down there! It doesn't seem right; 1f fou
see what I mean!
Pound npu,
MARGARET:
But lwhere else woula it come out?
JULIA
Well, that! what Bay 1t's Billy: Lean't
think about it.
I told Jack, Isaid, I oouldn't
think of having a baby!
MARGARET:
And what did he say?
JULIA
He eaid if fate had' a child in mind 1t wouldn't
ask my permission. But_I takeall the precaut-
lens! It's ever 8e silly but 1 can't think
about 1tA
aahe a l l. wis C
Iuke.
HARGARET:
Is it the pain?
JULI A:
Oh, no!
It dust-the-idens I tried to. explain
it' to myself one day and I thought,: It's like
mixing up pleaaure with, well, lovély little
babies! It doesn't seem right! But it isn't'
that exactly, either. I just oan't think about
MARGARET:
Why shouldn't babies come out of pleas sure?
JULIA:
Yes, but you have to look. after them, don't
you, and how are you going to do 1t? And then


fle ecl
you get all the dootors, and that laughing gas
they give you. A woman at Barnely Ridge told
me_wheriever you feel a twinge you-press the
button and hold it over your mouth ald you go
out 11ke a light!
MARGARET:
It is the pain, then?
JULIA:
Na, it isn't! It's like having a lovely little
baby down there-w-oriticising me.
MARGARET:
Criticising?
JULIA:
No, you don't see what.I pean, Nobody could
who wasn't me!
And Jack' s a man.
MARGARET:
What a funny world!
JULIA:
I know you'11 laugh at me and think me no thing!
MARGARET:
Not at all. - betme tell-yos-something. Lde
belierecould talk to. you noMo
JULIAS:
I feel like crying.
MARGARET:
Here are the_men. Jaci
Sau
Cole i
Enter-MEADOHT, TÉD LOWELL An-JOHNSON,
LOWELL:
But hard sntre mouth, but he moves, Mr Mead-
ows!
MEADOWS:
Sounds a beauty to met Hear that, ' Julia?
Mr Lowell's going to show us round the stables
tonight.
JULIA::
Very nice!
JOHNSONI Asi kie Lipee)
TANEkEN
It's horrible the way these two like each other,
Poury. Margaret! Theylye-been E alking horeeall the
wey threugh port, Not that Meadows knows/the a
pms, front from the backi ofaner set ns -
LOWELL:
Learn
Everyone of them's an individ-
ual, eh, Mr Méadows?
MEADONS:
That's right. I've always loved horses.
LOEELL:
What I always tell the squire here---they're te
Jame upuple jugt kepeopiey only they run faster and eat
hay.
JOHNSON:
Noble sort of people, of course?
LOWELL:
Of course! - He's pulling ny leg, Mrs Meadows!
JOHNSON:
And for God' 8 sake don't oall me squire'! I
can't stand it! 2CT. DACK) Help Jnney is See
LOWELL:
He thinks it'e old-fast hioned.
JOHNS SON:
Thank-Ghriat for thewomen, anyway, a theyt 11
talk to me. Well, I'never thought Barnley
-Biage Electrio* mixwith the looal hunt! That
I could never have foreseen.
MEADOWS:
It's just liking horses, that's all.
JOHNSON:
You've never been up on one!
You said so your-
self.


MEADOWS:
I just like hearing him talk.
JOHNSON:
Hear that, Lowell? I don't believe you've
heard that said in this house before!
SULIAT
Itte thesame with_mer aulii: L lhe hi. tele boo
LOWELL:
Lm-proud to-hear-you-eng-tt.
JOHNSON:
There's something you've alwaya. overlooked,
old chap. People are aifferent from hors es -
there's no getting away from it! Mind you, ha
yg heefn
a nose re-bag nowand agaan-- keep one nyself
upstairs in the bedroom- but-not-all-t the
timet L L Ld n
ULLA
Your husband's-areal leg-puit, lanthe,
Mrs-Johnson?-
LOWELL:
It's like the squire-thing, Mr Meadows. He's
touchy about it. Know why? Beoause. he's a
squire. What I always tell him. He's got
tenants, he's got a farm, he'a got a manor-
house and a steward. That's a squire.
But
he won't have it.
JOHNSON:
You always come out with that his torical 8 urvey
when we! vé got guests, don't you? His 8 nver-
Bation never changes, Meadows. Zou see, the
horses he. talks to aren't---well, they'ré not
frightfully-int eres' ting, if you Bee what I mean,
Juf aeP
I tot
# the-outset, Irsaid, Lowell,
these horses simply aren' t your ievel. They
aren' t talkers, Isaid.
what he sald?
Johnson, he sala, don't be 5a" intellectual
snob!
LOWELL::
Hors es are famous talkers, that's another thing.
JOHNSON)
LOWELL:
afoutve got-
JOHNSONE
- to know. their language!
That right
Now
finish.1tt And-with Httle pride---
LOWELLS
think Icansayido.
JOHNSOH:
Wallmdonet
MARGARET:
It's true that he can talk to horses. I've
seen him. switoh a horse in the middle of-a" Jump
without moving a misole.
JOHNSON:
Tricky fènce, was it? -
MARGARET:
Xes, A a
lta ) trel, ye
JOHNSON:
Rathert Know how he did it? Talked throughi
his arse et
Whut te aitays atdl
ho well Ianb
JULLA
Oh, Mr Johnson, yout re seneemt
house, toot
Ck Dulin) WL
MEADSSSA
Hets a spark, ientttiatr
MARGARET:
Yés, they're a ribald family..
JOHNSON:
Hatonta Lowell's laugh.
de the origanal
horse-laugh.
Tvr


uith hsequs Lable- t
MEADOWSA
Cards, the whole lot!
MARGARET:
My husba andi won't go near the st 'ables,, Mrs :
Meadows. He only keeps them for me.:
JOHNSON:
And-Lowell, of course.
LOWELL:
Well, I seriously'believe he-does, sometimes.
JOHNSON::
Of course, I do! Ioan't see animale B uffer,
Margaret.. He haen't got a penny to his name,
have you, Lowell? Lives with his father in, an
old barn. Least I can. do is to give him a ride!
LOWELL:
All true enough!
MARGARET:
But one thing you won' t do,Godtrey, and that's
play the squire, eh?
JOHNSON:
That'e right.
MARGARET:
It might make everything fit together.
LOWELL:
What beats me is why, there can't be modern
squires. The land' s atill got to be fermed,
there's étill got to be keépere, and I dare say
poac chers, too. There's got tobe farmers'
N ILand'
1 kpl Dishe
JOHNSON:
Oh, nomore, for
Bake! We gét it
anttrils
every time visitor comes, Meadewe: ) 1
Nar und
C lus
Iha a
LOWELLE
Dairymen--
JOHNSONS
And men to look Laffer the timbert
LOWELLI
Youlve still got to have 10
don't care-
JOHNSON:
How-mechanised you-gett
LOWELL:
len'tit-truet The tradstion's-cone, itsent-
out - couple'of bunaded-yoare-ager really,
But you've still got to sit downstairs of a
Saturday morning and go through. the accounts,
eh, Mag? Perg? Per?
JOHNSON:
That' 8 right, aow call,her oRa of all - Laad!
abbreviat ed names that' 8 abont the worstl'se
MARGARET:
Rhymes with ! bae', Lbag,tsagt Rettu Hupuit
JOHNSON:
Now you've started. her)hating herself.
Peu
LOWELL:
Itie Just Antinate. I've always said I Nag
RC daeo
MARG ARET:
Godfrey doesn'tt/any sort of label. That why
hehates tehear Laquiret
a equire
but
He'le
the name frightens him.
JOHNS CN:
I'ma fake squire. Mine's a commercial family.
It's been counting the sheokles for three or
four generations. When my grandfather came"
into this house he a1d 80 because the squire's
initials were the same as his owa and
were
engraved all.over the church pews. tne7. s
what I calla fake squire. He made his money
out.of sweated mill-labour.
LOWELL:
He didn't inherit this place, that's true.


But you did.
MARGARET:
That's-a-ounning-argumentr Cleue!
JOHNSON:
ButMy work's in the modern world, Lowell.
LOWELL:
So are horses. More interes t in horses now
than ever there was, eh, Mr Neadows? Riding
schools in all the new towneg-people-have-got
money in-their poekete-nowadays---
lenug ( k SAm) Lnti t -
dre hal?
JOHNSON:
Weli,
debelieve - thereis anew mood-
in people.
Not just-mere-money.
eould
feel
last
shtr
JULIA
You souidsee the enjoyment inhis face, Mrs
Johndont
MARGARET:
He-usually Wakes me up
e comes back late.
But-last-night-hegot
ed like eaint.
Ou -
JOHNSON:
It' strange. We-just floatedalong and There
bend-was- playing. Most of us were downstairs
in the cabin, sitting on benches along the 8 1de,
with oil-lamps swinging in the mi ddle.), You-
could hardly see-aerese he-room.
Pydl moon,
We-sould just see it-through- the -por ptholes.
That right, Meadows?
MEADOWST
That'e sigh
JOHNSON:
I even danced with a strange lady.
1be
JULIA
Oh,Lwasn't going to say-- 6 hoad
JOHNSON:
It was the ladies' invitation waltz, h She
came across and gave Meadows a look firat.
Then she asked me. It wasn't touching or any-
thing xtke of that kind.
It was simply extra
ordinarily simple and natural. Thatsall
Yer oen-say, But it wasn't natural in our sense,
either---it wasn't relaxed or what we call spont-
aneous. She was even a bit nervous. She was
strained. She bit her 11p. I don't know why
luun.
she asked me. I think, to put me at my ease.
She could see Iwasn't a resi ident at Sea Belle.
Rorstn, Perhaps she knew already. SIt was so Nonder
faily comradely---I hat e the worde but twender
gur asd.
1f-yousce-whet-i-mean, Lowell? There wasn't
any sex or vanity in
2us0h
1t. Yet-shehad Aex.
She was Just natural and equal to me, and In
never felt anything quite iike that in my life,
while I danced with her. And-I-didn't seehen
agatny
didn't really hink Lof her as
aingle
person, I didn't say to myself that-ahe xes s
attmaotive, or nice to know. She was the whole
room for me, all the boat as 1t floated a long,
and the band stopped, and_everybody talked in
a kind of homely undertone, aa if there Wasn't
any danger in the world and pouldn't everbo
It veema-ouchewondenfally safe and snug
worldl
hedn't realised before.
Daliw: :
Weltal
toz -
MRADOWS:
That
word for word,
JOHNSON:
And I do believe they really did talk to me
as an equal, the men as well. They didn't Jump
when Meadows said I was his boss. That's a
big change of B urse, from the old man 8 world,
E Tatso0omyA I didn't have to"make an


effort. It's true, Meadows, one dopsn't
have to think in that world. There 8 a kind of
hum underneath everything.
It's a kinder, Headii
6 C
world.
MEADOWS:
Oh, 1t oan be oruel, don't you worry, people lo sse
let their tongues e sometime 8---
JOHNSON:
Kee, but Emean-it's kinder to the nerveg.
One can't see it from the outside, from/their
faces, if you just see them at the works.
Meadows gave me long speeches a manktk short
time ago. about the "borjoyks' Loweli, and I
didn't quite know what he meant.
LOWELL:
Borjoys?
JOHNSON:
He means us. And I thought at the time, It's
the old envious talk about a higher class with
more money in it a pooket. /But that len't
true. Really, he waa talking about a different
state of life---it's a different kind of ner-
vous system, almost, that' we don't know any-
thing about..
MEADOWS:
Just as they don' t kpow anything, about your
life, either. They don't see what it 1s to
make 1ife out of thoughte.
JOHNSON;
That' 8 another thing he says. Making life
withthoughts. Their's juat hums on. But
we've got t thie investigating quality. We're
searching 11e all the time. We think that's
how everybody lives. It- isn't. Partly, I
see what he means, But I can't alter myself.
MEADOWS:
That's what I say, you can't put the brain to
sleep again, after it, been woken up.
LOWELL:
Well, to tell the truth, I've-never been much
of e/brain--
JOHNSON:
No my dear ola chap, perhaps we shouldn' t
include you. Your mind s been asleep for
generations back, hasn'tit? You're a real
squire, old chap!
MEADOWS:
You can see helisn't a borjoy, not a proper
one!
LOWELL:
I always thought that Mas a dog.
JOHNSON:
It's French.
Means middle-class, old chap!
LOWELL:
Oh, I'seel
MARGARET:
I wondered what it was!
LOWELL:
Well, they say we're all middle class nowa
adays, don't they?
JOHNSON:
Well, as long as the horses don't ohange, my
dear fellow!
LOWELL:
That's right! It'd be awful if they got ideas
wO well, wouldn't 1t?
Enter MR JOHNSON,, Co L
C atrih
MEADOWS:
Blimey!
Sseyu gala r


SAM
dzaat s -
JOHNSON:
Well, hullo, there, father, hox re youa
Comein! Nwwe S
brlen
bade,
h: L ahe e
MR JOHNSON: LThank you, Thank you very Mewot Nice to
be invited into mpown house. You always
had a generaous side, GodfreySah. Like your
mothér. Your laugh's been echoing through
the hous e all day, Lowell. Who the devil's
this?
JOHNSON:
That's Mr Meadows, sir. You haven't metu
before.
MR JOHNSON: Oh, I'm us ed to not meeting people in my own
house. I signed the co mpany over to you, lad,
but you haven't got the house yet!
JOHNSON:
Fat her---
MR JOHNSON: Don't interrupt!
You've dagned-well interr-
upted since you were five years old. I've
never met such an incorrigible young--
en -
MARGARET:
Guests, Harry!
MR JOHNSON: Oh, how do you do? Nice-looking young WO-
man! Who is it?
JOHNSON:
That's Mrs Meadows.
MR JOHNSON: I didn't ask you. I know you're alvays ready
with an - anewer.
MEADOWS:
It's-mywife, sir.
dobe 12
MR JOHNSON: Oh, I SEN you in the corridor, this sorningr
He iat
and thought to myself, whdabhe-dev14 hat
Agnother of Godfrey's weék-end aurprises 4
expeott Who, aid-you say this chap Wast
JOHNSON:
One of your employées, sir.
MR JOHNSON: One of my employees? Haven't got a company!
Don't own a.bean! Don't know what you're talk-
ing about. My employees, he says! I thought
I Bigned the Iot. over to you, sir? Or did you
wriggle out of that one as well?
JOHNSON:
He's one of my employees.
MR JOHNSON: Oh, one of yours. That_s different. That's
more 11kely. Because, 211 tell you something,
in my day, when Iwas in oharge of Barnley Rage
Electrics and a dozen other companies aswera,
no employee of mine, I don't care what his name
was, or how bea utirul his wife was, ever set
foot in my house!:


MEADOWS::
Oh, well, times have changed since then,
Thank Godt
hyogung
(hsomP
MR JOHNSON: You can thank Him all right, because you
didn't do-anything to bring it about your-
self, -
MEADOWS:
My father dia! .
MR JOENSON: Who's your father?
MEADOWS:
A solder-man 1ike.Iwas to start with!
MR JOHNSON: Oh. Feldow here says he's. got a father.
Remarkable, isn't 1t?
MEADOWS:
Hewas remarkable:
MR JOHNSON: He carried out a oné-man revolution, did he?
MEADOWS:
No> Hè helped a little bit.
Trade unions
and all that.
MR JCHNSON: Oh, I don't. mind trade unions. Bada fight
mih - tiom Irny tatr They fought me and
fought it them, end W € both played dirty. h I
expect You-CaR-amagine that, caryou?
MEADOWS:
MR JOHNSON:
Wei
tel you had-
Bome friends in my dayo Worker oame to me
once and seid, You're the finest employer I've
ever had. How many others have you had, I
said. None, ixti he said! : Not much of a
compliment, was 1t? Thought I was going to
tell you, a little how-they-all-loved-me st tory,
didn't you? ' Wrong. I could trip you up on
a: dozen or more, other things 1ike that. You
can't make me out..
MEADONS:
I didn't say.you weren't clever.
MR JOHNSON: Yes you aidy A.. You thought I was damned. old
fool. That swhat my son thesa Beeanne I
gave him thenbest-schooling in the land and a
s table of his own. Ought to'be punished for
that. He andihis. mum wouldn't speek to me.
Naughty fellow, gaye his son the best hé co uld
think of. Mustn't do that. -
San
MARGARET:
Godfrey appreciates everything you aid 'for him,
don' t you, Gedfrey?
SAM -
Sal
JOHNSON:
Oh, Chriet, yes end the beatings too, you
mus tn't forget those! : The number of times I
lay in. bed thinking to.myshbf, If only he'd
give_me another beating!)
duke
tonked
fomr
Dem-more tumn Htsta
tmadt They were so" unstint ed; you know!
E>t t a * ate
E ret oB a - e ttas
MR JOHNSON: Glever, isn't he? Hàs to have his sey. T> Dacie
All right, if you're one'of my employees,
Inei boss becau a o
le diolie! IV
Cuys,


which you are in view of the fact' that I
started Barnley Badge Electrias and sustained
it through two world warg what are you exact-
1y? The fellow who pours the tea? They tell
me therots a special Job nowadays. If another
fellow touches the pot they go on strike. A
fellow asked for three lumps of augar instead of
two once, andithe electrehal industry was para-
lysed fcr a month! Olever, lan't 1t?
MEADOWS:
It's marvellousto hear you talk. Anybody'd
wonder where your money oame from to keep this
place up! Not out of cups of tea, Mr Johns on.
We.etill do. an hour or two's sork K day.
MR JOHNSON: That's good of you. Wear gloves, of course?
MEADOWS:
Sometimes.
Goggles, too. I seem to remember
a man in your works didn't wear goggles once,
and he Was blinded for 11fe, and then you weren't
so.generous, were you?
va Sem:
JOHNSONT
What areyou talking about?
IeLsr
MEADOWS:
Your father knows. It's common knowledge down-
an-the-eanteom be um.
FULIAT
Jackt
Pinz
MARGARETT
What's common knowledge?
MEADOWS:
That there B a man blind ed for 1ife.
And he
didn't givë him a penny.
ens
MARGARET:
What's his name?
MEADOMS:
Ask Mr Johnson,
JOHNSON:
Mhat-s-his-hamer
MEADOWS:
Jook Murphy' s his name.
JOHNSON:
doodCod, ds that the one---?
SAM) w'd
MARG ARETA
Youta better ohange the subject.
JOHNS CN:
I thought he didn't move properly. Hefelt
fer ae chairt He-mntd-something about-my
veieer
taough thet-wes funny.
MR JOHNSON: Mind 1f I speak?
MARGARET:
It's past your bed-time, Harry.
MR JOHNSON: A man Nas blinded in my works?
MEADOWS:
That right.
MR JOHNSON: And I didn't pay compensation?
MEADOWS:
That's right.
MR, JOHNSON: You'11 prove that to me, young man. By
God, Iil bring the slander-laws against
youlAdyy
la In L Jn!
Ton
JULIA:
There, Jack, you've-done it now!
Mr Johnson: I've paid compensation for evéry industrial
accident in every concern of mine. And I'll


be in that office of yours within a week from
now to prove it! Meanwhile, we'll keep our
mouths shut. Ladie s present. Look at the
wife. She doeen't 1ike it when you talk like
that. She's flattered to be here, aren't you,
metant myde?
MEADOWS:
Not by you!
MR JOHNSON: 02 Ron't you be too sure!
I may be p14 and
ugiig but they like a bit of gruff autbority.
Men haven' t got any punch nowe adaye. You 1ike
this house, don't you, my dear?
JULIA:
Well, I think it's lovely, yes!
MR JOHNSON: Know how much it oosts me to keep it up? That
lake out there. It's artifioial. Wasn't there
in my dad's time. Look at all these windows.
Takes nearly a week to clean the lot. Think
yo urself lucky to have three rooms and a kitchen,
my dear, and a husband who pours out tea for the
masses all day.
MEADOMS:
We're called by our names now. That's the big
ohange. We're considered people.
MR JOFNSON: Oh, yes, I forgot! 'The people'! They vote
in eleotions and put the cons ervat ives in, don't
they? Iwonder-why they do that? I'11 tell
you, Mr Tea-pot. It's because people like ma
and' my dad before me worked themselves to the
bone while all you were doing was claiming higher
wages and new lavatory-pans. I couldn' t afford
to go home at five in the evening and take two
weeks holiday with pay every year. Too much
work to do! Bamley Ridge Electric'and five
other B mpanies besides would have gone to pot.
First time I Bat down and looked at this lake X
was when I retired, So you oan put that in
your pipe and Bmoke 1t. My wife us ed to have
week-end guests. Never saw them, Never BaN
my own son. Too much work!
aut tL
MEADOWST
Whe- asked youto do
thoughtz AryYona you-doit
for me? If 80, what at1 get out of 1t?
MR JOHNSON: Two weeks holiday with pay every year. That'e
two weeks for doing nothing. Very nice! And
it got you more money than you deserve. Pension,
Latrines.
Look at your wife' 8 dress, you
didn't pick that up_ in the Old Kent Road, did
you, Mr Tea-pot? Tell you another thing.
Know why I'm keeping up this house?
MEADOWS:
Le elk
iley ale
MR JONNSON: Not for that fellow sitting over there. Corro
too long.
Givee/him corner Mustn' t do
1dor2 Cruel. The stables are naughty, too,
they make the horses run. Mustn't do that.
So who am I doing it for?
MEADOWS:
Not for me, that 8 all I know.
MR JOHNSON: You're wrong, Tea-pot. That's just who I am
doing it for. I'm keeping
a monument.
Nothing Id iike better than "Ehreno rooms and
a kitchen; and a little wife to fluff the dust


off!
Takes mé fourteen minuted to make the
rounds in the mérning. Electric 11ght bill
comes to about twice your wage. Can't get
sérvants any more. When you do,yea-have to
call -them sir. If I sold this plece up
a rich man, Tea-pot. But then your
come
along and say, Oh, don't do that, Mr Johnson,
what'11. happen to the old co untry 1f all the
big houses go? And I'll tpll you the answer to
that one. The old country d. go to pot. There
wouldn' t be an old oountry, And we -must have
an old country, mustn't we, Tea-pot, for hikes K
and trade-union'outings?.
MEADOWS:
Oh, I agree there.
JOHNSON:
What, with everything he said?
MEADOWS:
More or less.
MR JOHNSON: So in go the cons ervatives. No wonder the poor. *
old liberal party got dished. So you give in, 0
do you, Tea-pot?
MEADOWS:
t Tanever give-in-to-Tou,- What Ilsay 1s,
now you've made a mese of our world, let' 8 try
and save something from before you made the mess, a
like this house, for instance.
MR JOHNSON: I made a .mess, did I? Listen, tol me, this_house-
wouldn*t-buchere ir
hadntt been for people
1ikeny dad Tellyou - W hy? Simple. He
bought this éstat e from a seedy old squire who
needed the money to drink himself to death.
The country squires weren't-looking BO good-
then, They-needed-new-blood, They were after
money. And we were making it. Your life's
based on that money my lad. This country
became the richest trading country in the world
through people. like-me.
MEADOWS:
Well, to say you tade a mess of it: doesn't mean
the others didn' t before you, the squires as
well.
MR JOHNSON: Thohwe're all messers.. End of argument.
I'm not such a damned fool, after all, am I;
y Tea-pot? You haven't.got it all in your
brain-box, have you?
MEADOWS:
/Oh, you've got an argument. I Baid that.
MR JOHNSON: pon't take it too hard, theh, Bon't want
your hand to get unsteady for Monday morning
tea.
JOHNSON:
I think I was right to show you my world,
Meadows.
MR JOHNSON; What.s that? * It's your world, is 1t? Must
tell°the eteward that. He'11' come to you with
the accounts instead of me.
MARGARET:
You rknow you hate him to touch the accounts,
Harry. Shall I give you your whisky?
MR JOHNSON: No, I'11 have. it upstairs.
Nobody gives a
damn for me down here.


JOHNSON:
Now, for God's sake, father, don't.get maudlin.
MR JOHNSON: Just what, your mother used to say! I'm going
to bed. Well, good night, my'deer, you've got
a pretty little face.
JULI A:
Good night, sir!
doil
MR JOHNSON: As for you, we'il see more of you ip/the
Blander-courte. The old fool doesnt forget,
you know!
MEADOWS:
He forgot Murphy.
JULIA:
Jack!
MEADOWS:
It'scommon knowledge.
MR JOHNSON: And, meanwhile; go to hell, the lot of you!
Good night, Loweil. Haaven 8 paved with Jood
horsest hoofs, ever heard that? Rone-shoes.
LOWELL:
That's right, sir! Good night!
Exit MR JOHNSON.
MEADOWS:
Fancy having a dad like that! Shing!
JOHNSON:
We'll go into that Murphy-case on Monday
morning. I'll see you at the office, Meadows.
You oan tell me all you know.
MARGARET:
It's'quite possible that---
JOHNSON:
And meanwhile we'll say no more about it.
Yea,-he-dooonlt ninoe-hia.words, does Lhe?
of course, he's only showing off. Alwayé :,
does in front of visitors.
MEADOWS:
Ru*rgot-something inhim, Aike a mabhine
tht moves him along. Yoffeelito
JOHNSON:
I'11 say this. He was one of the finest men
in the elotrioal trade at one time.
JULLA
You-Nere cheeky-with dack.
JOHNSON:
He loves it. You oan always see a little
glint in his eyés.
MEADOWS:
The smell of battie! ha are
LOWELL:
Beo aterror-down at the n ablee-eometimee.
3 But you can deal with him, oan't you, Mpe?
MARGARET:
I treat him like a child.
JOHNSON:
That's because he didn't bring you up.
MEADOWS:
My dad never touched me with a strap or any-
thing like that. Only once with the back of
his hand.
JOHNSON;
I didn't mind the beatinge so much, not really.
MEADOWS:
Why nott
JOINSON:
Well, they were a kind of' relationship.
hated ef more when-he-didn-t-notioe-me,
MARGARET:
He had the habit of not noticing your mother


for a week at a time.
JOHNSON:
Do -you,know;
ueed et a - frightened of
workers, hen wes kiat
MEADOWS:
Go on!
Wighun C
wll
JOHNSON:
Thaysteno iike ogres for me. Therea still
a kind of gory. fascination for me in"working
at Barnley Ridge. Electrios They used-to-come
in all my worst nightmares. Z-had-uneonge
about-this-houner and-woke-up -sereaming. I
dreamed that the house Was in a terrible storm
and the trees were bending right over, and the
hills were 1ike waves.
I Baw hundreds and
thousands of workers pouring towarde me in a
single file and I was hitting them over the head
like cattle" and their bodies.were taken off in
a kind of chute, the hall Nas 81 treaming with
bloodnbut the special horror was that my father
had built a ttan drain in the hall-floor iike
you see in Blaught
and the blood was
streaming down it. ter-gardof Then notioed that all the
pnk outaide-was-turning-to blood, with waves mount t-
ing' up 'in huge, congealed, shining-gpouts, and
the house was rocking to and fro, while the
remainder of the file of workers floundered and
drowned, their faces red and their hair matted.
with-blood, As-Bay I woke up screaming,
and my mother Was standing over me. I remember
ahe had Bad eyes.
JULIA
hat herrible-dreamt
MARGARET:
You* nevertold me that.
JOHNSON:
Perhaps you're not the kind one tells thinge to.
LOWELL:,
That's a bitter thing to say, old chap.
MEADOWS:
They aren't ogres. Thegie parive a
mild, did V
ts kus. Gut r wla Er tan inld .
JOHNSON:
I've seen them fight. And I used to hear'
stories about the old daye, what they used to 1
do to blackleg. labour.
(hJULIA)
MEADOWSI
I oan remember those lines now.
'Our faces in the.water,
They shake in the wind;
Our faces olose together,
They show we must have sinned."
JOHNSON;
Isaid theyt@eome, 4ian't? The other day,
Meadows, I got a létter from a friend of mine
in Kenya. Important letter from your point
of view,
MEADOWS:
Hisne?
JOHNSON:
We wêre in the army together. I call him
Bull's Eye. He wanted to know if I had a good
man to send out to him, a married man. Decent
salary, Native servants.
Detached hous e.
Free travel.
Take your wife,
Chris tmas
bonus, that sort of thing.
MEADOWS:
- Ar
JOHNSON:
I thought of you, yes. But
w lavellj 6 .


MEADOWS:
You're talking.rot!
JOHNSON:
Think about it.
JULIA:
Did you kpow, Mrs Johnson?
MARGARET:
JOHNSON:
Youfre afraid of what's in you? You night
shoutat an African--afind out you're not as
liberahas you thought---aomething 11ke that?
MEADOWS:
No. I'm not afraid of that.
JOHNSON:
You said yesterday morning we should float
through all the rot of modern 1ire, let it
pass over us. Why not do it in Kenya?.
JULIA:
He never could. He opuldn' t leave the boys.
MEADOWSI
I could leave the boys any time I 11ked, don't
you worry about that.
JULIA:
He couldn't, Mr Johnson. He'agot to have
somebody to smile with.
JOHNSON:
Bull's Eye smiles. : Quite a lota.
JULIA:
And then
nfer Loouldn't handle
servante.
MARGARET:
You'd handle : them better than I oan..
JULIAT
Iim-not lady!
ndall thes cars skine!
MEADOWS:
What a life thatabe eh? : Dark skins all.
round you, the sant By God! K ToP. 56
JOHNSON:
Ses-whet-I-mean? It's a chance.
JULIAT
Anywey it's no use thinking about *
couldnt-leave * Barnley 1 Ldg
leotri
JOINSONT
assure you
eame positionto - me back
to, ir
here
JULIA:
Oh, you-wouldn-tt.
JOHNSONE
Iwould,
LOMELLE
Itsounds to-me Hke
: f good-charoe.)
JOHNSONT
erBull's
irst-rate chap. Straight.
as a aye. Thatte Nay 1 called him Bull's Eye,
Alwaya tron the mark,
MEADONS:
What do you mean by 'old' Barnley Ridge Eleotr-
ic, Julia? Barnley Ridge Electric' 8 just an
idea. The idea was realis sed in the form of
eighteen sheds and an asphalt_yard a hundred
seet by B eventy-two. Well, I don' t like liv-
ing all my days insigean idea. I'1l tell you
straigit off, thie-kenya-thing appeala to me.
JULIA:
You'li do
best for you. But what about
the olothes whatze 3?
JOHNSON:
You'1l get an advance.
MARGARET:
It sounds like an experiment.


JOHNSON:
No, 1t 1sn't! There s no need to try and
turn me into some schêming bloody rascal 11ke
you always do! : There's no experiment attaohed
to it. 0ld Bull's Eye just put the queetion,
as you well know, because you read the letter
yourself.
MARGARET:
I only said it Bounds like an experimént.
MEADOWS:
That's all right, Mrs Johnson. It's in him
from his father, fiddling ebout with other
peoplegs lives. It excites thom, I could Bee
1t in his eyes. But it'e all right. It's
up to me to fight a way through,
JOHNSON:
You'ye discovered a very: sound principle,
Meadows, whioh my wife has boen 8low to iearn,
that thére 8 no power where here isn't sub-
mission. -
MEADOWS: :
Yes, it's right. I only/ make you powerful 1f
I submit.
LOWELL:
The ticklish thing 18, ao you submit by going or
staying?
MEADONS: -
That's what ra like /to know.
JULIA: '
He'1l hever do 1t! What, get on an aeroplane
and all that, Mrs fohnson? I'm frightened!
MARGARET: : Perhaps you'relbetter out of all this, You
oould st art a femily.
JULIA:
But what about) /the Vaudeville? and Sea Bells?
and dad's back?
MEADOWS:
Dad's what?
JULIA:
Back. You know I paseage him once a week.,
Regular.
LOWELL:
Women alaays put the personal side, don't they?,
MARG ARET:
It'a funny, Godfrey, you're full of suggestions
for other people. I always seem to be listening
to them. Why can't our own lives have a little
bit bf megic as well? We always seem to be
sending people off. And we're left with the
files and graphs and aocdunt-books.
JOHNSON:
I don' t know what you mean,
MARGARET:
I'd like *a child, for one thing.
JOHNS ON:
Oh, for Christ's Bake, not in publio, Margaret!
MARGARET:
Why :not? We're all very frank with each other,
aren't we? Mre Meadows told me sbe was fright-
ened of having a ohild.
MEADOWS:
She always has been, haven't you, duck?
MARGARET:
I'm not. Yet
have one. And if you're
Bo miserable at entt, s Brig why can't we leave?
Why can't we leave Barnley Ridge Elèotric? Why
do you send people off to their freedom and leave
us prisoners? Even riding' s forbidden!
JOHNSON:
You do enough of it, don't you?


MARG ARET:
I mean you forbid tt to yourself. Andi
these people think we live so grandly!
Stables, servants, fifteen bedroome! They
don't realise how hollow it is, just because
you oan't bear a little colour, it'd Make you
feel guilty!
JOHNSON:
I've got to atone ali the time, that,s true.
MARGARET:
Atone for what? You haven't done anything.
JOHNSON;
He has.
MARGARET:
But he was the same as yout He led your mother
the same life! Bexause/he didn't have a eense
of colour inside him, he didn't know what magio
meant, he didn't know what your mot ther was talk-
ing about when she Baid Bhe wanted a ballroom
here and the servants lining up on Christmas
day! He . thought it was all piffle!
JOHNSON:
So it 'wae.
MARGARET:
Exnctly! You aon't AKR know what this frail
need 1s, which most of us have!" You don't seem
to need magig!
jut now, i
JOFNSON:
As teadons pasad there 8 no power uniess you
submit'to At.
MARGARET:
I want to submit! But you never shout or for-
bid me things!
JOHNSON:
It might not last fong, Meadows, but it's North
the experience, andyou might move on $0 some-
thing else.
MEADOWS:
Its a borjoy test, that's all. It's the one
every borjoy of the firat generation has to take:
but it's sad. It's Bad to think of what,my
children'11 grow up into. They won't have that
substance behind them like me.
JOHNSON:
They'11 grow up 1ike me. No 'magio'!
MEADOWS:
I've noticed, you're troubled azl the time.
All borjoys are. Have my dildren got to be
like that? Well, I'm not going to sey yes to.
that Job.
I'm going to think a bit.
JULIA:
It might be nice out there,
All that sun.
One of the women on the sooial commi ittee said
she was out there with her husband and, it' a
silly to mention 1t, but she only had thinge
out on the,line for a minute and they were dry!
well, that 8 a relier, Ientit?
JOHNSON:
Do you know that ibprehy.Schubert song, 'Gretchen
at the Spinning Wheel? when she' s yearning for
Faus t? You hear the.spinning wheel turning in
the piano part, diddle-di-dadale-di-diddle-di-diddle, like
a torture wheei, but lovely. 'My quiet has gone, a
she says, 'my héart is dark, I shali never find
peace as long as I live.' That s the farst
verse, Then 'Whenever I look oût of the winde
ow it's only for him, and when I leave the house
I leave only for him. His gracious step, his
wonderful presence, his smile, the streggth of
his gaze, the magioal flow of his speech, the
touch ofi his hand, then---oh, his kiss! First


Pemmtins lenn
verse again, 'My: quiet' has
my heart. is
I shaii nev er, find peace sonokd" long as I
Anpe Well, that's how I feel, cd à
Couldn't put it in my. own words. 'I. don't know
who I'm looking for. I don't/know who touched
me. - Somebody did, once. It's the magio Peusk
Mangeret talks about. I'm eliwaye 16oking for
1t. But the pérson,s gone. Meanwhile there's
work-todo a wan L
cali l-e
Srayy
JULIA:
Hou-ohouldn
ady
Thtnk of
Dreamboet-
lagt
htt
JOHNSONS
Ert BOR
kn Fewit t
E never find
lwaye Pound the corner.
MARGARET:
Ilvenever knewn what my funetion S
Goarrey, Fertups that the troubles
MEADOWST
It' Hhat
said yesterday.
borjoy's lw
ys alone,
And the mere - a rjoy
mors elone.
eu nu m
LOWELLI
Are we ready, then, Mr Meadows? Shall we go to
the stables?
MEADOWS:
Yes, letset Coming, Julla?
JULIAS
Alj ight
foeleo-funny,
- 11ke a
aream.
MEADONS*
Aren' i you coming, too2
JOHNSON:
Oh welve eeen hem often enough.
MEADOWS:
geing or 1 think all
la exclting.
making your
wil hands.
Exeunt LOWELL, MEADOWS and TILIA
MARGARET:
You're going to urdck their lives.
JOHNSON:
People wreck their oun,
Igive them
freedom,
het de ou
et hat Murphy-
case, ch? Wet ve caught the old manout at
last!
Pcortry
San
C : UR T A I N
hes leaure,
Penng fou
He jut
< - fon
SAM.
houd hoels 4
She S
Vach


SAm' Mrice ai Barly
Blechia. DULIA 1 PENNY
SCENE:
The same-as L ind. A-fortnight-Anter.
lutr et the Tene a k2,
JULIAand HAEGALET.
Ntup
lwhit)
MARGARET;
Melll-send invitations
ail-the-departments.
What about outsiders?
Alia A
ttu
JULIA: :
Why couldn' t we have Casanova? He'd make
wonderful-M.O.t
MARGARET:
But You said he was horrible.
JULIA:
He 1s. But he s. such a lark!
MARG ARET:
We don't really need an M. C.
JULIA:
Oh, we do!
For the floor!
MARGARET:
He won't expect to be paid, will he?
mygi hii
JULIA:
Oh, no!
a t
Itlafunny how
people look up to me now.
Ever ainaewe salked
round the Morka togethers The women are differ-
ent.
MARGARET:
You 1ook diff erent, too.
JULIA
How?
MARGARET:
Hon
negert
It's brought comething out
nganiser-
JULIA:
Well
am an organiser, Mre-Jobnson, Jaok's
alwaye eaid- a
I lways ueed to CTE anieethe
partiea.
But never
a aut
Knegine the canteen lit up!
And Cosanoya giv-
ing me the glad eye while he holdan the microph-
one, and his evening dress twinklay
MARGARET:
Whydoes- it twinkled :
JULIA:
He wears it in his lapels, like diamonds.
eeystt flashes and catchés the eye.
hs entrnis A 1-5.
MARGARETT
What about the-judges?
Mey ny
a te
JULIA:
you-shouid-be onef n 1 egde 01 every
department. hat-aboufthat?
MARGARET:
Itty always theheads, you seeo He-alwaye-eeme.
aek
e seme aar ngo
heus
lng
kp bmtai? ag'nel
gebpn


JULIAT
Why_not? Theytre-uducared!
T i T G - FRET
Why can' t we choose a judge at random from all
the ticket-buyers? aylotteryt
aus
JULIA:
We-evater But there woulan't be the magnif-
icence ebout it, would there? Think of Spec-
1ality Products with his lovely accent reading
out the w inner!
And Production puffing at his
fat cigar!
MARGARET:
We'll let (sdfrey decide, then. I think I know
every man and woman in the worke now, You're
wrong. They'd be good judges. Better, per-
haps.
Taadie a 1
JULIA:
Al1 right, then. ke'll make it demooratic!
MARGARET:
You mean aull, dontyou,dem?
l 1
JULIA:
Well, you can't starve people's hearts Mrs
Johnson, I don't care what you say! fou called
me 'dear. That' 8 nice. 2d-ltte-you-nent
door. But it won't last.
MARGARET:
What won't last?
Jeeiy cael ate lhe baa
JULIA:
Our being together, A Hel1lnever-come-to
Devil'a Brig-again, you'lleee
MARGARET:
Why not?
JULIA:
It's too 1ike a dream.
1inever-forget-that
honsey-line-lohnoont
MARGARET:
IHke it-lese-einee-you-eame,
like it hero
inever thought-ivoule, Perhaps it, the aut-
amn coming -en.
I love your little ffont room
where you gave me tea. You-see-how etrangewe 4
aret Iéremember 4t- glow: IEA like a fairy-tale,
and the
wver the works 00, E the light
ahining through it Ahe way the trams creak in
the morningz The brick walle,
And now
I've learned to loveBarnley Rid hot eyen. : -you'1l see,
he' 11 snatch the work away from mes 3
JULLA:
Hta?
goar
MARG # n
mshand
henever I rearn to love some-
thing he growe cold on it. Igeane I always Sny
love too late. It's like nevér' oatching upo
in-s-racer
wan
JULIA:
Idefeet sorny for yo-u. They told me this
morning that old MrJohng jonta on one of his
Will
tours, like he used to! 2ot1l take my Jack sat
to the s lander-courta, Nrg Johnsen! He-promdsed
hetroutdr It does frighten me so!
dot
AopAs
MARGARET;
He'd neverydo it. Besides, it S there in the
file, tifhisom ignature. Hevanttget
away
JULIM
He mn'h cme
here, HHE ke?
MARGARET:
on, he been-saying such-niee things about
You neeantt be afratd!
JULI A:
bo you, love + Mr Lowell?
PENNY Tire
hatetita


lmpo--migi-lai kunl
MARGARET:
JULIA:
/ Well, a woman should alwaye have a little
fanoy, don' t you think ao? You'll have him
at the Soolal, won't you?
funly
MARGARETS
Oh, no!
AULIA:
Why not?
MARGARET:
Ithink Mold-meke-bes.saoy reel-ashamed,
JULIA:
Why astamed?
y4a laah calyid
MARGARETT
in front of the workers.
JULIA:
But he-ought- to-be-proudt- Mr Lowell' 8 euch
an easy-eome, easg-go sest-ef-persont nw amn
Sa' r
pephe wd I.n 2.
MARGARETI
Hebg proudof Bull'a Eyer Set face, horn-
-rimmed apectacles, never eays more than he
meane,
He-way
show you..
Sock MUR PHY
Juvs lefp.
JULIA
Ithought that twas coming. When I got up thip
morning. A kind of sensation.
MARGARET hands her a letter.
MARG ARETN
Are you glad?
JULIA:
I can't tell!
Well, would you believe 1t?
MARGARET:
whet, your husband going to say?
JULIA:
I don't know. He' a never mentioned it pgain.
He put it out of sight. And you/say he' 8 got
a set face and horn-rimmed spectacles, don't
you?
MARGARI ET:
That'e right.
JULIA:
Oh, I couldn't bear that!
MARGARET:
But he's good-looking!
JULIA:
It's the way you said(it. No,, wouldn't be
right for us, I oan : feèl it! (Reading) ' Foll-
owing receppt of signed pontract Ishall oredit
your account at Barnley Aidge Electrio worke
with a month' 8 advanoe 8 alary, and send air-
passage for yourself and your wife.' Ie Baid
we'd never see Devil's Brig again!
MARGARET:
But you want to go.
JURIA:
The trouble 18, if I knew how to behave!
I'm sure they' in pick holes in me. And a uppose
they didn't iike the look of us? We' d be
strended out there!
HARGARET:
When you get over there, try not to look for-
Aard to their co mpary. You'd better take my
advice. I learned the bitter way. Seem not
to need them. It doeen't matter how lonely
you are. Then they'11 be drawn towards you.
It'a terribly hard, doing it. You've got such
a soft heart! Try and be silent for minutes on
end sometimes. That interests them. You


should remember what I've said. Don' t for-
get it, from the moment you land.
JUEIA:
We'llnever go! It's for Jaok to deoide, and
he's got mcre.sense! You mean I've got no
sense when yousay I'm soft-hearted, don' t
you?
MARGARET:
If you 1ike. Being soft-hearted meana that,
partiy.
JULIA:
They Bound horrible, Mrs Johneon!
MARGARET:
Oh, no, I didn't mean that! They're ordinary
business-people. Decent.
Quite jolly.
Enter GODFREY JOHNSON.
JOHNSON:
The old mans prowling round the works like a
fox,
JULIA:
Ia better go!
JOHNSON:
Hullo, Mrs Meadows! Your husband's on his
way up. Broken the news?
MARGARET:
Yes.
JOHNSON:
W hat do you
Mrs Meadows? It'a a wond-
erful chance, AA.E it?
JULIA:
Well, we'll have to wait for Jack. I could
have fallen through the floor!
JOHNSON:
Can' t we get those flles out of the way?
MARGARET:
What's the matter? You're prowling round,
it 86 eems to me.
JOHNSON:
He's finding fault with everything. Won't
look at the achievements,-- --canteens and that
sort of thing. Says I could cut
labour down
by five or ten percent. Well, 80 "Y could.
Accounts departament, for instance. Iould
mechanise that lot and give forty percent of
the ataff their cards.
MARGARET:
What does it matter what he says?
JOHNSON:
Nothing. Only it gets me worked up.
MARGARET:
I hope he ien't swearing at people.
JOHNSON:
Oh, he's cleverer than that. He stande in
front of them like a atpne column asking them
questions, then when he s finished he turns
away without a word!
MARGARET:
It isn't his plant, to do that.
JOHNSON:
He's got it all in his head. It's marvellous.
Re knowe every wire and assembly-line in the
place!
MARGARET:
You reepect him, then. That'a different.
Then you should' run the place-as he used to.
JOHNSON:
That'a exactly the kind of help I get from you.
Meadows, we're still bickering, as you
Melliodro oan


JULIA:
I think it's nioe, in a way! * :
JOHNSON:
If there,s any trouble out there write to me.
I know oid Buil's Eye like the back of my hand.
JULIA:
You're very good, what you've done fo r us.
JOHNS ON:
For me it's a step forward.
MARGARET:
For them, you mean.
JOHNSON:
No, for me.
MARGARET:
And what about them?
JOHNSON:
I'11 tell you aomething else, Mra "cadowo.
It all happens at once. Your husband was
called up by the Personnel seotion this morn-
ing. He' 8 been offered a job in Speci ality
Products.
JULIAI
MARGARET:
Did you arrange that?
JOHNSON:
MARGARET:
Little wonder the men are turning him a cold
shoulder!
JOHNSON:
Who said they are?
MARGARET:
Ian't that true, Mrs Meadows? :
JULIA:
Oh, I don' t think they'a ever hate Jack!
JOHNSON: :
And in that. cas e, what have you been doing,
walking through the worke with his wife?
Do you think that improves his situation?
MARGARET:
She on the .catering committee.
JOHNSON:
She's in with you. And he's been offered.a
Job an Speciality Produots, no doubt, because
he,a in with me. But I aian't do anything.
Yoû'1l bave to accept, Margaret, that the world
i8 made in a certain way. It ion't all my will.
MARG ARET:
You have a way of pushing fate along---giving
it a little shove.
JULIA:
Some people are nicer and some people aren't.
JOHNSON:
And for God's sake don't depress the girl
before she starts!
Enter JACK MEADONS. *
JOHNSON: :
Ah, good. The old man wante you up here.
JULIA: :
Oh, no!
MEADOWS:
Isaw.him downstairs. He smiled.
Funny cove,
isn't he?
HULIA:
Well, its come through, Jack!
MEADOWS:
What_s come through?
JULIA:
The jobiout there!


MEADOWS:
Just as I thought. I thought, they've calied
me upstairs to sign on the dotted line. Well,
would you belleve it?
JOHNSON:
Show him the letter.
MARGARET gives him the letter.
JULIA:
It's just like a dream, Jaok!
MEADOWS:
I expeot I seem ungrateful.
Not Jumping for
Joy.
JOHNSON::
No. Good newe doesn't come like that.
MEADOWS:
I Was called up by Personnel.
JOHNSON:
Yes, he told mé.
MEADOWS:
Was that. your doing?
JOHNSON:
No. I've just answered that question.
MEADOWS::
He offered me a job in Speciality Products.
JULIA: .
Well, let 8 take it, Jack! I've been thinking!
You'd better stay here.
MEADOWS:
You dont? want me to. For weeks you've been
dreaming-
to yourself, quietly, like a
woman, TEXPERY, you---about me chasing the flies
off my knees with one of those horse-hair fly-
whiske? MEXER, olapping my hande for tiffin,
eh? Our bed' 8 been tropical for weeks. I
nearly got a sunburn.
JULIA: :
It's all very well to pull lege!
MEADOWS:
It's the truth, you damned-well know it 1s!
JULIA:
Well, it's exoiting---think of flying in an
aeroplane and going in the sun, and H wooden
house with great big whirring, tans! But it
makes me tremble. I do and I don't, sort of
thing!
1 MEADOWS:
It's funny. The Personnel menager gave me a
glase of sherry. He's a nice man, And do
you know what I thought? I thought, He shouldn' t
be nice. He ought to be nasty, liké I imagined
him. It made me feel let-down. The old
intimacy 8 gone. My hands don't feel right,
on the work.
JOHNSO N:
That_s freedom. * I tell you what, I'11
make"you free-er still. I oan give you an
assurance, in writing if you. 11ke, that if
things get too hot out there, say you don't
settle down, this job in Speciality Products
'11 be waiting for you.
MEADOWS:
So'I'm caught both ways. Cunning, isn't 1t?
I've got to be a borjoy now, if Igo or stay.
MARGARET:
You're afraid it's in you, to be one.
MEADONS:
That,s right, I am, now. I'm caught, yet I'm
supposed to be free. I don't feel free, but
I've got freedom. I oan make 11fe with my own


hands. Before, I used to watch life, sort
of thing. It was 1ike a procésalon with
colours and lighte. I no more thought of
me or Julia being in 1t than flying in the
air! It Just wentrolling by while we bad
a cup of tea! And now I aan go up and inter-
fere with it. Get up on one of the big gold-
en lions. Do you see what I'mean? I can
make bits of it with my own hands. And it
doesn't feel right.
JOHNSON:
Do you want to sit in a codoon all your life,
then?
MEADOWS:
Yes and no. That's where the borjoy, atarts.
The procession30 gone anyway, so lire'a made
up its mind for me. I'm a borjoy now. You
say you've been, looking for something all your
life, Mr Johneon: 1t'8 the procession you've
been' after. It's marvellous when you see 1t.
Do you rememb er the girl at the spinning wheel,
'My quiet has gone, my heart ie dark, I shall
never have peace as long as I live?'
JOHNSON:
You've got a wonderful memory.
MEADOWS:
We're in the same boat now, you and me. But
suppose the procession goes for everybody?
Supposei theregs no fairground any more?
JOHNSON:
You mean, suppose. everybody's free?
MEADOWS; :
That's right. Suppose?
JOHNSON:
No more wars. A sound roof over everybody's
head.
MEADOWS:
That's right.
Heaven on earth. Only no
angels going by.
MARGARET:
Or aclear sky without any sunshine.
MEADOWS:
Notice we don't do our turna any more, Julla?
JULIA:
There:hasn't been time, duck!
MEADOWS;
Mas that 'duck' you eaid? Why---'If you oan
JULIA:
I can't, Jack!
MEADOWS:
--'an old baboon 11ke me, it must be--al
JULIA:
You'1l make me cry!
MEADOWS:
'Yea, it must be---because we' re---'
Enter MR JOHNSON.
MR JOHNSON: Tea-pot einging? You'11 sing another tune
by and by, lad.
MARGARET:
Did nurs e come, t 00?
MR JOHNSON: Mhat do I want with a blasted nurse all the
time?
MARGARET:
Sit down, then.
MR JOHNSON: How do you do, my dear?


JULIA:
How do you do, sir?
MR JOHNSON: My Bon télls me you'll be 8 erving tea to the
Africans soon, Mr Tea-pot. You're wasting
ten percent of the plant, Godfrey Johnson, do
you hear that? I could out your overheade by
a quarter intwo yeare. I'11 tell you some--
thing. You're running this firm from the
Industrial Relations Department, and 1t should
be run from here.
JOHNS ON:
I keep a general eye on thinge.
MR JOHNSON: Not good, enough!
Get round the plant!
Shanklin' 6.Pony! Good for your corns.
See 1 em touching their caps to me this morn-
ing, down in *roduction? He' s still got the
old touoh, eh, Mr Tea-pot?
MEADOWS:
That'e right.
MR JOHNSON: Servant called me 'sir' this morning, Mr Tea-
Have to Back him. Mustn't call me
poir. What the devil are those?
JOHNSON:
Personnel files.
MR JOHNSON: That damned word 'personnel's been ringing in
my ears ever since you took this place overt
It's production, not personnel, you're after-e
and I oan tell from your work-sheets that thé
stuff's not coming off the assembly-lines a8
it should. Too much entertaining. Too much
tea-potting. You've got a man in overalls
sitting in your office like Lord Muck with his
wife in the middle of the morning. Now that
sort of thing wouldn't have happened in my
and it's never happened in nearly a hundred dara
firty years of Johnson firms, and I'll tell you
sonething, it doesn't bode wéll!
MARGARET:
I wish you wouldn't excite yourself'like this,
Harry!
MR JOHNSON: And I'11 tell you something, Mr Tea-pot. You're
on the pay-roll of this establishment, and your
Job's downstairs on the nasembly-lines, not
here. And until you've been given your cards
you're a worker and 'a subordinate, and you
touch your cap to me, do you understand?
JOHNSON:
I anked him up here.
MEADOHS:
Oh, that's the way the wind blowe, 1s it?
Weil, Just have a look at this, Mr Johnson.
Ke goes across and B igns the contract.
JULIA:
XAEX
Jaok!
You've done it!
MEADOWS:
Free man!
MR JOHNSON: Good Lord. Mr Tea-pot did sométhing. Boys
downetairs'1l go on atrike. Give it to me
here. (MARGARET hands him the contraot) It's
a contract, too! By God, you get it buttered
on both eides nowadays, don't you, and along the
edges a too! Two monthé this, six motthe that,
a couple of air tickets---where does thw work
come in? I aan tell you something, Tea-pot,


you're a damned S 1ght better off than I was
in my young daye!
JULIA:
What made you do it?
MEADOWS:
It was 'touch your cap'!
MR JOHNSON: That'a how the first Johnson sterted.
Woulân' t buckle under. Signed a contract.
Lost all his frionds. Richest man in the
oountry in five yeara. Never wanted to do
it. Rum, lan't it? Your wife'll push you
further in the. sludge. 8ee it in her face.
MARGARET:
Let me take you home, Harry.
MR JOENSON: Oh, no, Got to faoe a tribunal first, eh,
Godfrey Johnson? Two judges, no witnesses.
I'm here to answer a charge, directed at me
first by Mr Tea-pot and then supported by
own son, that I don' t pay compensation for ina
ustrial accidents. Defenoe: I alwaye pay
adequate compensation for industrial accidents,
alwaye have done, always will. Those are the
rules of Barnley Ridge Electrio Company Ltd.,
inception 1802. NoN give me evidence, at once,
to the contrary!
JOHNSON:
Where_s that file?
MARGARET:
I don't know.
JOHNS ON;
I said, where's that file?
MARGARET:
I think your father ought to go home.
JOHNSON (taking down a file) This 1s your personal file.
And this 1s what it says about Jook Murphy.
'I spoke to Murphy and he was willing not to
register the accident 1f I could assure him a
position here for the rest of his working daye,
and a pension.
put hip on the telephones
at the main oor.f That a where Murphy is
now.
MR JOHNSON: Signature?
JOHNSON:
Signed by you.
MR JONSON: Show it here.
JOHNSON:
Show it to my father, Margaret.
She does 80.
MR JOHNSON (after reading it) Call the fellow up here.
Don't remember.
JOHNSON (at the telephone) Send up Mr Murphy at once,
main door.
MR JOFNSON: This genuine?
JOHNSON:
Do you think r'd fake your eignature?
MR JOHNSON: Wouldn't put it past you. Rascal.
JOENSON:
This man was ' blinded for life.
MARGARET:
All right, Godfrey.


MR JOHNSON: Private arrangement, probably. Gav e him
money and didn't write it down.
Orten did
that. Couple of hundred quid out of my own
pocket---forget about it, old chap, we'll
call 1t quits. Probably did that.
JOHNSON:
You didn't make any arrangement, private or
otherwise. And that' s the meaning of this
word 'personnel'. 'Personnel' means I'm not
having that kind of thing happening again.
And that' s the difference between my company
and yours. I've got to repair your damege!
MEADOMS:
You'll never do that. Factories won't ever
be natural and you'll never make them so.
That a thn trouble with your class, refusing
to realise that, afraid of not being up to
date.
MR JOHNSON: Heer what he saye? You're in 1t as well as
I am, Godfrey Johnson. Mr Tea-pot wants to
be natural. Wanta a tiger-skin and, do war-
dances!
JOHNSON:
You never registered any personal accidents at
all, including. the personal ones to my nother,
did you?
MR JOHNSON: Nhy you---!
JULIA:
Please, Mr Johnson!
MARGARET:
You can't stop them.
JOHNSON: :
She had such a delightful, chattery way of
talking! You used to
and walk out
sometimes when she was gat tHR middle of a story.
You killed her with your hard will, didn't.
you?
MR JOHNSON: She didn't give me sex!
JULIA:
He' 8 crying! i
MR JOHNSON: I swear I loved her!
But she aidn' t---!
MARGARET:
Haven't you said enough, Godfrey?
MR JOHNSON: She never---!"
MBAaOWs:
Look out!
Mr Johnson stumbles.
JOHNSON:
Get the dootor quick!
JULIA:
We shouldn' t have done it!
MARGARET (at the 'phone) Send the dodtor up at once.
JULIA:
We shoulan't have got mixed up!
MEADONS:
Get a oushion for his head.
Here, rest, your
head, Mr Johnson.
MARGARET:
You'll be lucky if you haven't killed him!
JOHNSON:
Brandy in my desk, quick!
Enter JOCK NURPHY,


MURPHY:
Good morning, sir!
JOHNSON:
Who the devil's that?
MURPHY:
How are you, sir? You sound the s'ame as ever!
I heard you were making the rounds. It's been
nearly ten years, I think!
MEADOWS:
What are youbtalking ahout, Jook?
It's young
Mr Johnaon!
MARG ARET: So He 1s blind! We alun
wehe u u leen!
MURPHY: :
I could have sworn that was his father!
MARGARET:
My husband'11 Bee you tomorrow.
JOHNSON:
I - aidn't mean it!
MEADOWS:
It' a funny. He made me sign that. The old
man.
MURPHY:
Is that Mr Meadows?
JULIA:
We ahouldn't have got mixed up!
JOHNSON:
I've killed him.. I think I've killed him!
C UR T A I N