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    The Changed Valentines

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                         The Changed Valentines

                 And Other Plays for St. Valentine’s Day

                                   By
                          ELIZABETH F. GUPTILL

             _Author of “A Troublesome Flock,” “Little Acts
                        for Little Actors,” etc._

                                 BOSTON
                          WALTER H. BAKER & CO.
                                  1918




The Changed Valentines

And Other Plays




CONTENTS


                                                           PAGE

    THE CHANGED VALENTINES, 3 males, 4 females                3

    A ROMANCE OF ST. VALENTINE’S DAY, 1 male, 2 females      25

    THE QUEEN OF HEARTS, 11 males, 13 females                45

[Illustration]

COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY WALTER H. BAKER & CO.




The Changed Valentines

In Two Acts




The Changed Valentines


CHARACTERS

    BOBBY, _the small boy of the family_.
    EVELYN }
    HELEN  } _his older sisters_.
    LOUISE, _his younger sister_.
    MRS. WINSTON, _his mother_.
    BERT, _his older brother_.
    MR. BERTRAM ELLIOTT, _his bachelor uncle_.


ACT I

    SCENE.--_The setting is the same for both Acts--a living-room
    or library._

    (_As the curtain rises BERT is sitting at a desk, evidently
    just finishing a letter or note._)

BERT. There! I’ll just tuck it in here with the valentine, and let her
get both together. (_Does so, and directs envelope._) Miss Eloise V.
Worthington! A pretty name, and a stately one, but somehow I like Winston
better. I wonder if she will?

    (_Finishes addressing it, and sits looking at it._)

    _Enter BOBBY, in a hurry._

BOBBY. Bert! Frank’s out here in his brother’s buzzcart, and wants to see
you. He says you can ride up-town if you’ll get a move on.

BERT. I will that.

    (_Steps out, comes back through, putting on his coat._)

BOBBY (_with a grin_). Going bare-headed?

BERT (_putting hand to head_). Why, I thought I put it on! Run and get
it, kid.

    (_Exit BOBBY. BERT paws around on table, upsetting everything._)

BOBBY. Here’s your lid.

BERT. Thanks. Where in the name of common sense are my gloves? I put them
here for Mother to mend, last night.

BOBBY. They’re sticking out of your pocket.

BERT. So they are. So long, kid.

    (_Hurries out, forgetting valentine. BOBBY spies it and picks
    it up._)

BOBBY. Gee! It’s a valentine for Eloise. Bet it ain’t as pretty as the
one I bought. There won’t no silly girl get it, either. I wonder----

    (_He starts to take it out of envelope, hears some one
    coming, and runs out, dropping it. There should be a curtain,
    apparently separating two rooms, and behind this BOBBY hides._)

    _Enter UNCLE BERTRAM; goes to desk._

UNCLE B. (_addressing his envelope_). Well, well! That’s the fortieth
valentine I’ve sent Ellen. I sent the first, I remember, when I was a
three-year-old, in kilts, and she a baby in little white dresses and
blue shoes. Ha, hum! Such is life! Here we are, both middle-aged people,
though blest if I feel so! If she’d only answered that twentieth one, I
might not have been sending the fortieth. I wonder---- (_He toys with
letter._)

MRS. WINSTON (_looking in_). Oh, here you are, Bertram. You’re wanted on
the ’phone.

UNCLE B. (_rising_). I’ll be right there.

    (_He hurries out, and BOBBY hurries in, and picks up the
    dropped letter._)

BOBBY (_going to desk_). Gee! I’ve thought of the best joke! This ain’t
sealed, either. I’m a-going to change ’em. Thirty-nine valentines are
enough for one lady to get from the same man, anybody’d know! (_Makes
the change, and seals both letters._) There! I guess a “change’ll be a
difference,” as Aunt Emily says, and Eloise oughtn’t to care. This one’s
from Bert, too. Didn’t know Uncle Bertram ever signed his name Bert.
Jumping frogs! He’s coming!

    (_Hides again, BERT’S letter in his hand. His uncle takes the
    letter, and sees it is sealed._)

UNCLE B. Funny! I thought I hadn’t sealed that. Getting absent-minded, I
guess.

    (_Puts it in pocket, and goes out, whistling._)

    _Enter EVELYN and HELEN. Both start toward desk. HELEN reaches
    it first._

EVELYN. Oh, dear, Helen, won’t you let me have the desk a minute? I just
want to address a letter.

HELEN. So do I, and I’m in an awful rush.

EVELYN. What is it? A valentine?

HELEN. Is yours?

EVELYN. Well, why don’t you address it, or else let me have the desk?

HELEN (_rising_). You may have it, Evvie. I’ll wait. (_EVELYN seats
herself, toys with pen._) Well, why don’t you do it, if you’re in such a
rush? (_EVELYN laughs._)

EVELYN. For the same reason you don’t, I guess. Here! (_Hands her a
fountain pen._) You can do yours on the table. Then we won’t bother each
other.

HELEN. I’ll let you see who mine is addressed to, if you will, too.

EVELYN. No, thanks. (_Both hesitate, laugh, and HELEN takes hers to
table. Both write hastily. A crash is heard, followed by a loud scream,
and both girls rush out. BOBBY comes out of his hiding-place, and
changes valentines swiftly, sealing both, then darts back as he hears
girls coming. They enter._) Katy will scare us to death some day. Did you
ever see any one who could get so many tumbles?

HELEN. Or smash so many dishes? No, I never did. (_Takes up valentine._)
Why, I don’t remember sealing this.

EVELYN. Nor I mine. I suppose the--the Irish earthquake in an American
kitchen put it out of our heads. Want me to mail your letter? I’m going
out.

HELEN. No, thanks. I’m going out, too, and this envelope is private
property.

EVELYN. H’m! I could make a pretty good guess as to the name on the
outside. It’s “Pet,” of course.

HELEN. Really, it’s mean to call Phil that. He hates it so!

EVELYN. Then his mamma shouldn’t have named him Philip Etheridge, when
she knew his last name must always be Tuttle. Then he is such a pet. I
always want to see a big lawn bonnet on those golden curls of his, and
see his dear little self in ruffled white dresses, with short socks and
blue slippers. Of course the little darling wants a valentine! But I
should think he’d make you tired!

HELEN. He’s lots nicer than that homely Jack Hamilton. All he thinks of
is baseball.

EVELYN. Well, he isn’t soft and sentimental, and--mushy like Pet. I don’t
care to lead a nice little poodle-dog around by a blue ribbon.

HELEN. You’d prefer a bulldog?

EVELYN. I certainly should. Coming out to mail your precious epistle?

HELEN. I am.

EVELYN. Come on, then. (_Both pass out._)

BOBBY (_coming forth again_). Now maybe I’ll have a chance. No, here
comes Lou!

    (_Dives out of sight again._)

LOUISE (_entering_). I saw you, Bobby Winston! What you hiding for?

BOBBY (_stepping out_). I ain’t hiding.

LOUISE. Well, you were. Thought you could jump out and scare some one, I
s’pose.

BOBBY (_as she seats herself at desk_). Who you writing to?

LOUISE. Nobody. I’m sending valentines.

BOBBY. Valentines? More than one? Helen and Evvie only sent one apiece,
and I’m going to send one.

LOUISE. Oh, Bobby, who to?

BOBBY. That ain’t good grammar.

LOUISE. And that is, I s’pose. H’m!

    (_She takes two envelopes and tucks in valentines, and seals
    them._)

BOBBY. Who you sending ’em to, Lou?

LOUISE. I shan’t tell. Go ’way, Bobby, so’s I can get ’em done.

BOBBY. Tell me who they’re going to?

LOUISE. No siree!

BOBBY. I’ll give you my glass agate if you will, Louie.

LOUISE. What you want to know for? To tell somebody, and get me laughed
at?

BOBBY. No, I won’t tell, honest Injun!

LOUISE. Well, the pretty one goes to Reginald, and the homely one goes to
Freddie, ’cause I’m mad on him!

BOBBY. What you mad at Freddie for?

LOUISE. ’Cause he said Valentine’s Day was silly, and he shouldn’t send
one.

BOBBY. Ho, ho! And you wanted him to send you one!

LOUISE. No such thing! He can keep his old valentines, if he wants to.
I’m going to send a lovely one to Reginald. He’s got sense enough to
’preciate it, maybe. And I got a horrid comic one of a miser, all ragged
and thin, gnawing a bare bone, like a dog, with his money all piled up
around him.

BOBBY. Mamma doesn’t like us to send comic ones.

LOUISE. Don’t you tell, Bobby Winston!

BOBBY. What’ll you give me not to? My aggie back again?

LOUISE. I haven’t got it yet to give back again. Yes, keep it if you want
to, but don’t tell. If you do, I’ll never tell you anything again, so
there, now!

BOBBY. Well, I won’t, but Mamma wouldn’t like it. You know she wouldn’t.

LOUISE. Maybe she wouldn’t like all you’ve been up to, either, Sir Robert.

BOBBY. What you know about what I’ve been up to?

LOUISE. Oh, you have! You have been up to some mischief! Now if you tell,
I will.

BOBBY. You can’t, for you don’t know it to tell, smarty. Say, Lou, let’s
see the funny one.

LOUISE. It isn’t funny. It’s just horrid, and I meant it to be. Besides,
they’re sealed now. Keep still while I direct them. (_She writes. BOBBY
gets behind her, and shows wild enjoyment. LOUISE rises._) There! Now
I’ll go mail ’em. Have you sent any, Bobby?

BOBBY. Not me. I’ve got too many sisters to want to send valentines to
girls. (_LOUISE goes out. BOBBY seats himself at desk._) See if I can
get mine sent some time to-day. (_Writes._) I suppose I’d better mail the
one Bert forgot. Gee! But wasn’t it good! Louise mixed up her own, and
she’s sent the pretty one to Fred, and the other to Reginald. Good one on
her! It seems to be catching. I’ll go out and mail mine before anything
happens to it. It’s a poor day for valentines. Sort of mixy, somehow.
Six of ’em, all going wrong! Gee! Mine’s the lucky seventh. Wish I was a
bumblebee, and could follow some of ’em. Wouldn’t it be fun! Well, Papa
says a boy ought to be a good mixer. Guess I’m all right. (_Goes to door,
and calls._) Mamma!

MRS. W. (_outside_). What is it, Bobby?

BOBBY (_as she enters_). Here’s a letter Bert left on the desk, all
addressed and sealed. Shall I mail it?

MRS. W. Certainly. Let me see it, Bobby. (_Takes it, and reads._) It’s
for Eloise. A valentine, probably. Mail it by all means, dear.

    (_BOBBY runs out. MRS. W. tidies up the room a bit, and then
    also passes out._)


ACT II

    SCENE.--_Same room as before. Evening of same day._

    (_MRS. WINSTON is seated, with sewing. BOBBY runs in._)

MRS. W. What do you think I got in the mail to-day, Bobby?

BOBBY. The paper, probably.

MRS. W. Yes, but something more.

BOBBY. A letter.

MRS. W. Something better and more precious still.

BOBBY. What was it?

MRS. W. A valentine--such a pretty one! Why, I haven’t had a valentine
for years!

BOBBY. Did you like it?

MRS. W. I certainly did, very much. If I only knew who sent it, I
should--kiss him, I think.

BOBBY. You mightn’t want to.

MRS. W. I’m sure I should want to, for, you see, I knew the writing on
the outside.

BOBBY. You did?

MRS. W. Yes indeed. Thank you so much, dear. It was very nice to receive
a valentine once more.

BOBBY. Don’t ladies get valentines?

MRS. W. Not usually after they are my age, dear.

BOBBY. But Miss Colwell does, and I heard you say once that you had the
same birthday.

MRS. W. So we have, dear, but what makes you think she gets valentines?

BOBBY. I know she does. Uncle Bertram sent her one this morning, and he
said it was the fortieth.

MRS. W. Uncle Bertram? Did he tell you that, Bobby?

BOBBY. N-no, not exactly; but he said it, Mamma. He did, really.

MRS. W. To whom, then, if not to you? How did you come to hear it?

BOBBY. He said it to himself, when he was directing it this morning.

MRS. W. Did he know you were there?

BOBBY. N-no. I wasn’t there, exactly.

MRS. W. Then where were you?

BOBBY. I was--in there. (_Points._)

MRS. W. Bobby! You weren’t listening?

BOBBY. Well, I couldn’t help hearing, could I?

MRS. W. Here comes Louise. Don’t mention what you have told me, Bobby.
Not to any one. Remember.

BOBBY (_as LOUISE enters_). Yes’m, I won’t. Hi, Louie! How many
valentines did you get?

LOUISE. Eight. Want to see ’em?

BOBBY. Sure I do. Come on over and show ’em to Mamma.

    (_LOUISE passes to side of her mother’s chair; BOBBY stands at
    other side, and they look at the valentines._)

LOUISE (_showing them_). Bert sent this one, and Uncle Bertram sent this
one, and Grandpa sent this one, and Harold sent this one, and Leon sent
this one, and Edwin sent this one, and Reginald sent this one.

    (_She says this slowly, showing them, and MRS. W. and BOBBY
    make comments on how pretty they are, etc._)

BOBBY. Gee! That’s a beaut of Reginald’s. Bet you’re glad you sent him
one.

LOUISE. No, I’m not. He bought one for every girl in our class--every
single girl! He likes to show off how much pocket money he has.

MRS. W. It’s a very pretty valentine, Louise.

LOUISE (_showing last one_). I like this better. Freddie made it all
himself, and it’s the only one he sent.

BOBBY. ’Tis pretty, but it isn’t nearly so swell as Reggie’s. Besides, I
thought Freddie wasn’t going to send any.

LOUISE. He said he wasn’t going to buy any, and he didn’t.

BOBBY. Gee! And you sent him----

LOUISE. I didn’t either, Bobby Winston. I got those envelopes mixed, and
sent him the nice one.

BOBBY. And you sent the other to Reg? Kinder tough, when he’d treated the
whole grade to valentines.

MRS. W. I hope my little daughter didn’t send a comic valentine to any
one.

LOUISE. I did, Mamma, but I shan’t again. I should have been so ashamed
if Freddie had got it, when he made me such a pretty one.

MRS. W. But how about Reginald?

LOUISE. Oh, Reggie didn’t care a bit. He never got a comic one before,
and he thought it was funny. He never guessed one of us girls sent it,
and you see, it was a miser, and Reggie isn’t a bit, you know, so it
didn’t touch him at all, but----

    _Enter EVELYN and HELEN, evidently rather “huffy.”_

HELEN. Well, you got some, didn’t you, kiddo?

BOBBY. I should say she did! Eight of ’em! How many’d you get, Helen?

HELEN. Oh, five or six. What a foolish day it is! Worse than April first!

LOUISE. I think it’s lovely. Don’t you, Evvie?

EVELYN (_shortly_). No.

BOBBY. Looks as if you two had a grouch. What’s up?

EVELYN. Nothing.

HELEN (_scornfully_). Nothing!

EVELYN. Oh, dry up, do! Let your face rest a while.

MRS. W. Evelyn! What sort of talk is that?

EVELYN. Well, I’m sick of her nagging! And everything’s gone wrong to-day.

HELEN. I don’t see as anything went wrong with you.

EVELYN. I suppose you wouldn’t call it so, but why any one should want
that simp of a Pet hanging round her, I don’t know.

HELEN. Then why did you have him?

EVELYN. How could I help it? He doesn’t know enough to see when he’s
turned down. I did everything but slap his pretty face for him, but
nothing would penetrate that rhinoceros hide of self-esteem. Bah! He
makes me sick!

HELEN. You looked like it. I saw how earnestly you were talking to him.

EVELYN. I certainly was.

BOBBY. Gee! Evvie’s stole Helen’s beau, and Helen’s mad!

HELEN. No such thing.

MRS. W. That will do, Bobby. I have never seen any signs of Evelyn’s
fancying Philip. He isn’t her style.

EVELYN. No, he isn’t. I detest sissy boys, and always did. Helen can have
him and welcome.

HELEN. Then why did you send him a valentine? No wonder you wouldn’t show
me the address!

EVELYN. It wasn’t to him.

HELEN (_hotly_). You’re----

MRS. W. (_interrupting sharply_). Helen! I hope neither of my girls is
going to forget that she is a lady.

HELEN. Well, she did send him one.

EVELYN. I did not!

HELEN. I heard him thank you for it in two lines of poetry.

EVELYN