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Authors: John Lahr

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Appendix 2

“Flugel Street”

by Billy K. Wells (c. 1918)

Billy K. Wells, who launched Bert Lahr in burlesque, was one of the few who wrote specifically for that medium. His “Flugel Street” is a classic bit. Like so much burlesque humor, it contrasts the violence, ignorance, and inequities of city life with the comic character who is made the butt of the situation by his stubborn opposition to everything around him. The sketch was written as the labor movement was beginning to widen in America; ironically it foreshadows Lahr's later hostility toward theatrical unions.

Lahr:
(Enters, stares at audience, then talks to the orchestra.) If I ask you a answer, will you question me? Can you play the Irish reel?
(The orchestra plays in unison. One player is off key.)
No, no, that ain't it.
(The music is struck up again. The same discord prevails.)
C'mmon. Stop. I said Irish.
(Finally, the music is played correctly.)
That's it. That's it.
(After four bars, the cornet wails loudly out of tune.
Looking into the pit, Lahr barks at the players.)
Vhat's the matter, you sick? No, you ain't sick. You're dead, but you're too lazy to close your eyes. Don't you know you ain't got no business to … (He gives a Bronx cheer.)… in there? Now, don't do that no more.
Cornet player:
Don't tell it to me. Tell it to the boss.
Lahr:
Vell, I'll tell it to you ‘cause I'm the boss.
Bandleader:
Say, stop picking on that man.
Lahr:
Vell, did you see vat he did? He went like that. (He blows another Bronx cheer.)
Bandleader:
Well, leave him alone. If you pick at him, you pick at me and the rest of the boys, and we don't stand for that.
Lahr:
I don't care whether you stand for it or not he ain't got no business to … (produces another Bronx cheer) in here and that's all.
Bandleader:
Well, we'll make you care. We belong to the same union, and we don't stand for it.
Lahr:
Vell, I don't care for you and your union somehow, any place, or anywhere. I'll take care of us. You mind your business.
(The straightman enters from the left. He comes up to Lahr and taps him on the shoulder.)
Lahr:
Come in.
Straightman:
Just a moment. I want to speak to this gentleman here. (He points to the bandleader in the pit.)
Lahr:
Vell, I want to speak to this gentleman here. (He points to the cornet player.)
Straightman:
Well, I want to speak to this gentleman here. (He speaks louder and points again to the bandleader.)
Lahr:
Veil, I'm going to speak to this gentleman first!
Straightman:
I'd like to see you. (He glares fiercely at Lahr.)
Lahr:
Hell. (He walks away.)
Straightman:
Now, don't you do that again. (Turns quickly.)
Lahr:
That was camouflaged. I'm teaching him how to play that thing.
Straightman:
You're trying to teach
him
(pointing to the player) how to play that instrument. (He laughs.) Why, my boy, you can't teach him how to play that. Why, he has played that instrument for the last twenty years. Come on. (He pushes Lahr.) Come on, get off this street. Get off this street before someone comes along and picks you up and puts you in an ashcan. (He stalks away.)
Lahr:
Then the street will be clean. (To player) See, he likes you. He likes you more than he likes me, but through me he is coaxing a bump on your eye and through him you're going to get a bush on your eye, and I'm going to bust you. (He moves toward player.)
Straightman:
(Rushing at Lahr and pushing him away) Oh no you won't. No you won't. You won't bust anyone around here. Now you keep quiet for just a minute. Just one minute.
Lahr:
Fifty-eight, fifty-nine, sixty. (He lunges at the player.)
Straightman:
(Moving toward Lahr again and pushing him away) Now see here, you. If you don't keep quiet, I'm going to put a sign on your eye “closed for the season.”
Lahr:
Can I open next season? (To player) See, you're the cause of this. You look good and intelligent and all that, but you don't seem to realize that you're sitting in a good position for me to kick your front teeth out. (Turns to straightman) Boy, I'm gettin' tough. Gettin' tououououough!!
Straightman:
You only think you're getting tough.
Lahr:
Well, I'll take him outside and fight him ten rounds and spot him six. (To audience) You saw me come out and ask for the Irish reel. Everybody gave it to me and was going along nice and sweetly and he had to (make noise)… in there. I didn't mind the way he jazzed, but the way he jazzed.
Straightman:
(To bandleader) What's the matter?
Bandleader:
Why, the big stiff said unions are no good.
Straightman:
Well, what are you going to do about it?
Bandleader:
We're going to quit.
Straightman:
Quit? That's the spirit exactly. That's the idea. (Orchestra leaves the pit.) Now listen, fellers, when you get outside wait for him and if you kill him, it will be all right.
Lahr:
Do you think
I'll
be there?
Straightman:
Yes, you'll be there, and there'll be a pair of black horses driving right ahead of you.
Lahr:
Oh! I'm going to be a jockey!
Straightman:
It'll be your last ride!
Lahr:
I'll win that.
Straightman:
Ah, bah! Ladies and gentlemen, did you ever see the way these men stick together! That's what I call unionism. One for all and all for one. (Turns to Lahr) Do you know what they are going to do? They're going to quit.
Lahr:
No, they ain't.
Straightman:
Well, what are they going to do?
Lahr:
Go downstairs and play pinochle.
Straightman:
What right have you got to come out here and argue with those men?
Lahr:
I didn't argue with them. He went (makes a Bronx cheer) like that.
Straightman:
(Moving center stage) Ladies and gentlemen: If we had more men like these in this world this would be a different country. Just look back twenty-five years ago. What did the laboring man of this country have to work for? Why, he had to work for the small, measly sum of eight, ten, twelve cents an hour. Now, why did he have to do that? Because there were no unions in those days. But look at that same man today. Why, he's getting seventy cents, eighty, ninety cents, one dollar an hour. And that is what unionism has done. Most people are under the impression that a union is filled with socialistic ideas. But that is not so. All that a union man asks are his rights, and he being one of the principal leaders of this great nation today. Why, he's entitled to such. Why, only yesterday I was reading in one of our leading newspapers where the packing house employees of Omaha, Nebraska, had won their strike. Now, they could never have won their strike had it not been for the unions. Look all over the U.S. today. Look in your own homes, town factories. You don't find any more small children there. No. Why? Because the unions won't stand for it. That's why I say all of us, everyone of us, should thank that wonderful organization, the American Federation of Labor! (He turns to Lahr.) And you (slaps him on the chest) have the nerve to come out here and argue with these men!
Lahr:
I didn't argue with them. They went like that … (He produces a Bronx cheer.)
Straightman:
Do you wear any union clothes?
Lahr:
I got a union suit on.
Straightman:
Have you got a union label in that hat (taking Lahr's hat off his head)?
Lahr:
Yes.
Straightman:
Where?
Lahr:
There—six and a half.
(The straightman punches his hand through the hat and throws it down and stomps on it. Then he walks away, as Lahr is left on stage looking forlornly at his hat. He moves to pick it up, and then drops it cowering in fear at the straightman's words.)
Straightman:
Put that down. Leave that alone.
(He walks two steps toward center stage as Lahr tries to pick the hat up. Then he turns around.)
Don't touch that. A union man! Why you're nothing but a scab. A fine union man you are. You don't even know where Western Union is. (He walks off stage right.)
Lahr:
(Looking at his hat) You're a scab, do you hear me? A scab!
Straightman:
(Entering loudly) Begone.
(Lahr drops hat and runs to the left of the stage, putting his coat above his head to protect himself. He shivers in fear.) Begone, you Alabama crapshooting meat hound you. Back to the wilds of Africa from whence you came. Back with your ancestors, where you can hang by your tail and throw coconuts at the rest of the monkeys. Begone I say. Begone. (He exits right.)
Lahr:
(Slowly lowering the coat from above his head) Did he went? Hat, I think he ruined you. (He picks up the hat and stares through it.) But I can see through it all now. But don't get mad at me, I didn't do it, and it wouldn't have happened if he didn't … (makes Bronx cheer noise)… in there.
(Lahr puts on the hat. A man enters from the left wearing a straw hat. He sees Lahr gesticulating with his hat and mimics him.)
Lahr:
(Turning to the man) What do you know about a union? (The man begins to speak, but is cut short.) You don't know nothing, that's why—because! Now you see that. (Lahr points to the man, who stands center stage.) If there was more like that there wouldn't be so many. Just look back twenty-five years ago: Look what a working man had to do. He had to work for a living. Does he do it now? No. He has the woman working for him. Look in all your beautiful homes nowadays. You don't see any more little children. No. Why? Because the unions won't stand for it. Why, only yesterday I was reading in today's paper. What did I see? You don't know, and if you did, you couldn't tell me. That's why I say all of us, every one of us, we should all thank that wonderful organization, the American Express Company. They can take your trunk and you never get it and when you get it, you don't need it. Ah! (Lahr takes the man's hat.) Got a union label in yours? (He crushes the hat over his knee.) Begone. Begone, you Alabama crap-shooting meat hound. Back to Africa. Back where you can get a tail. You're a fine union man. Vhy, you don't even know where the Union Station is!
Man:
Can you beat that!
Lahr:
Hey, I bet you don't even have a union suit. (Lahr reaches toward the man and yanks at his pants, which fall to the floor. The man stands in his long underwear. Lahr does a doubletake, turning to the audience in bewilderment, yelling, “Gnong, gnong, gnong!”)
(Blackout)

Appendix 3

“Beach Babies” (c. 1924)

The afterpiece was a bright, concise comic sketch that sent the patrons away satisfied. It usually brought the biggest attractions of the evening back for a final vaudeville turn. Although this piece was embellished by Lahr, it was written by Little Jeanie and her agent, and is typical of the makeshift quality of vaudeville and burlesque creation.

The stage set is a bathing tent on left, and on right, a bench with a newspaper. Girl comes out of tent in her bathing suit and walks across stage and off. Child (Jeanie) comes on and sees tent—steals clothes and goes off. Comedian (Lahr) comes on and Straightman enters also.

Lahr:
                
(To Straightman) Hello there. Where, where are you going?
Straightman:
I'm going fishing—Do you know where I can get some fish?
Lahr:
Sure, walk down a block and turn to your right—there's a fish market there.
Straightman:
I don't want to buy any fish. I want to catch them.
Lahr:
Oh. You want to catch some fish?
Straightman:
Why don't you come along?
Lahr:
No, I'll stay here and catch myself some dears.
Straightman:
Deer hunting? On a seashore? Is that a new sport?
Lahr:
New sport? Why dear hunting is one of the oldest of seaside sports.
Straightman:
Say, do you mean d-e-e-r-s?
Lahr:
No, I mean d-e-a-r-s.
Straightman:
Oh, I got you—chasing the chickens again. Well, I don't know about that sport.
Lahr:
I know, that's why you're going fishing.
Straightman:
What! Well, lots of luck and goodbye.
Girl:
(Enters and silently flirts with Lahr. She trips.) Oh, that was my foot.
Lahr:
Yes. I know it wasn't mine.
(Girl goes into tent.)
Lahr:
Well, it looks like the hunting season is now open. (Girl takes off bathing suit and throws it out.)
Lahr:
(Picks it up.) Empty. I never did care for these things empty. I think I'll take it down to the drug store and have it filled.
(Girl starts screaming.)
Girl:
Oh me! Oh my! What the—ooh!
Lahr:
A lady in distress. I must look into this.
(Lahr starts to go into tent.)
(Sticks her head out.) Oh, you mustn't come in here.
Oh—I thought you were in trouble.
I am. Someone has stolen all my clothes.
Isn't that nice?
What?
I mean, it happened to me twice.
Can't you help me—Where is my bathing suit?
(Sees suit and kicks it out of sight.) Bathing suit? Oh yes, where is it? (He offers pants, hat.)
Oh, that won't do. Can't you find me something else?
I am sorry, miss, but I'm a stranger in town. You better come out and help me look for it.
Oh, but I can't come out like this!
That's all right with me.
But I haven't got a thing on.
Neither have I—where shall we go!
Oh, stop fooling, I must have something to wear.
(Looks around and finds a newspaper on bench.) The very thing—a newspaper.
A newspaper! Why, how?
Wrap it around you like an apron. You can see how it looks on me.
(Puts it on and walks across the stage, giving back to audience.) Do you think it will be all right?
Why, it's just the thing for the hot weather.
Thank you. (Goes back into tent, then comes out again.) Yoohoo, I won't be long. Don't worry. I'll wait.
(Lahr sits down on bench. Jeanie comes on.)
Hello!
Goodbye.
Hello, my name is Jeanie—what's yours?
Santa Claus.
Hello, hey! Why don't you say Hello? Don't bother me, little girl. What are you doing?
Waiting? No. I'm not waiting.
Who are you waiting for? I'm not waiting for anybody. Well, how long are you going to wait? Will you go away—you don't have to wait any longer. You're my Daddy, aren't you? I hope not.
Why don't you want to be my Daddy? No, I don't want to be your Daddy. Well, whose Daddy do you want to be then?
I don't want to be anybody's Daddy—Can't you see I've got some things on my mind?
Jeanie:
What's the matter, are you in love?
Lahr:
No—I'm not in love. Come back in fifteen years and I'll talk business with you.
Jeanie:
Nobody loves you?
Lahr:
No—Nobody loves me.
Jeanie:
Well, I love you. (Falls over him.)
Lahr:
Listen, little girl—Go ask that man where the tide goes when it goes out.
Jeanie:
All right—Goodbye!
(Girl comes out of tent with newspaper dress on.)
Girl:
Well—How do you like it?
Lahr:
Oh! It's ripping!
Girl:
Oh! Where?
Lahr:
No, no—I mean it's swell, it's a pipping.
Girl:
Don't you think it's too long?
Lahr:
Well, yes, but we'll fix that. (He tears off a strip.) How's that?
Girl:
That's better, but it's a little too plain.
Lahr:
Plain? Say do you like scallops?
Girl:
Yes.
(Lahr tears scallops.)
Lahr:
Is that better?
Girl:
Oh no, I don't like that at all.
Lahr:
Say, I can't keep this up all day. (Tears another strip.) How's that?
Girl:
Oh, that's better.
(Jeanie comes between them.)
Jeanie:
Is this her?
Lahr:
Is this who?
Jeanie:
The one you had on your mind?
Lahr:
Oh, isn't she cute? (Takes Jeanie off stage. She comes back.)
As I was saying—(Jeanie is between them.)
Girl:
Who is this child?
Lahr:
I don't know, never saw her before.
Jeanie:
Oh, he knows me, he's my Daddy!
Girl:
Daddy! Is she your child?
Lahr:
Oh, no, she's joking. Come here, little girl, here's a red dime, go out and get yourself some rough on rat lozenges.
Jeanie:
Thank you—goodbye (going off). I'll be right back and give you some of my candy.
Lahr:
Won't you sit down?
Girl:
I can't sit down.
Lahr:
Why? Did you hurt yourself someplace?
Girl:
No, I'm afraid I'll tear my dress.
Lahr:
Oh, that's all right, we'll buy another.
(They sit down; Jeanie comes on crying.)
Jeanie:
Booo Hooo (etc.)
Lahr:
What's the matter, honey?
Girl:
What did you do to her?
Lahr:
She looked at me and started to cry.
Girl:
Well, you must have done something to her or she wouldn't be crying that way.
Lahr:
Come here, what's the matter?
Jeanie:
I lost my dime.
Lahr:
How cute—she lost my dime.
Never mind, I'll give you another.
(Lahr looks for dimes, but he hasn't got any.)
Lahr:
Go on, I'll owe you one.
Jeanie:
No, I want it now.
Lahr:
Here, here's a white one.
Jeanie:
I don't want a white one; I want a red one.
Lahr:
Well—tomorrow I'll give you a blue one.
Jeanie:
Thank you, Daddy.
Lahr:
Don't call me Daddy.
Jeanie:
All right, Daddy.
Lahr:
I'm not your Daddy.
Jeanie:
Goodbye, Daddy!
Lahr:
Goodbye, try and get yourself run over, dear. (To Girl) Nice weather we're having.
Girl:
Yes, but I hope it doesn't rain.
Lahr:
Rain—I hope we don't have a wind storm. Let's look at the weather report. Ah! here it is, fair weather with gradually rising temperature.
(pause) Can I depend on that?
Girl:
You must not believe everything you see in a newspaper.
Lahr:
But I believe everything I see in this newspaper. (Makes a pass at Girl.)
Girl:
Oh, don't—someone might see us.
Jeanie:
Oh yes! I can see you.
(Lahr puts Jeanie between legs.)
Lahr:
As I was saying—
(Woman enters.)
Woman:
I beg your pardon, have you seen a little girl around here?
Lahr:
(To Girl) I beg your pardon, have you seen … Oh, no. (To Woman) Please, lady, don't bother me.
Woman:
My baby, my baby, I've lost my baby.
Lahr:
That's too bad—I've lost plenty of them, but you don't see me bragging about it.
Jeanie:
Yoohoo—can't find me.
Woman:
Oh! There you are, come to Mother, Mother's little lamb.
Lahr:
Lamb—if that's a lamb, I'll never eat lamb again.
Woman:
So you were hiding my child?
Lahr:
Hiding your child! Why, we were trying to get rid of her.
Jeanie:
He gave me money to buy candy.
Woman:
Oh, you were stealing my baby.
Lahr:
Stealing, I'll give her a thing or two Lady—Pooh! Pooh.
Woman:
You can't get out of it this way, I know what you are, you are a couple of kidnappers.
Girl:
Kidnappers, why the very idea. (Starts arguing.)
(A fight takes place. Jeanie kicks Lahr, Woman tears dress off Girl. Girl runs into tent.)
Woman:
You ought to be ashamed of yourself, stealing children at your age.
Girl:
We don't want your child.
Lahr:
No, we have our own.
Girl:
What!
Lahr:
No, I mean, if we want them, we'll have them.
Woman:
Come here, we'll not talk to these crooks.
Lahr:
Crooks! Say, I'll have my lawyer write you a letter.
Girl:
There are my clothes!
Lahr:
So you're the Jessie Jimmy.
Woman:
Come, dear, here are your clothes.
Girl:
Thank you.
Straightman:
Straightman comes on with some fish.) Say, look what I caught, isn't that a beauty!
Lahr:
Beauty. Why, you should see what I caught.
Straightman:
What?
Lahr:
The most beautiful girl you ever laid eyes on—ooh! Come here, I'll introduce you to her.
Straightman:
Maybe she has a girl friend.
Lahr:
Miss—may I introduce a friend of—
Girl:
Ooh!
Straightman:
Why you darn fool—that's my wife.
(Blackout)

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