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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"Two Men of Sandy Bar; a drama"

OAKHURST takes seat in chair L. as SANDY enters
quietly from door L., and stands leaning upon his chair.)
Starbottle (rising). Ladies and gentlemen, we are waiting only for
the presence of Mr. Alexander Morton, sen. I regret to say that
for the last twenty-four hours--he has been--er--exceedingly
preoccupied with the momentous cares of the--er--occasion. You who
know the austere habits of my friend and--er--client will probably
understand that he may be at this very moment engaged in prayerful
and Christian meditation, invoking the Throne of Grace, previous to
the solemn duties of--er--er--tonight.
Enter SERVANT.
Servant. Mr. Alexander Morton, sen.
Enter OLD MORTON, drunk, in evening costume, cravat awry, coat
half-buttoned up, and half-surly, half-idiotic manner. All rise in
astonishment. SANDY starts forward. OAKHURST pulls him back.
Morton (thickly). Don't rish! Don't rish! We'll all sit down!
How do you do, sir? I wish ye well, miss. (Goes around and
laboriously shakes hands with everybody.) Now lesh all take a
drink! lesh you take a drink, and you take a drink, and you take a
drink!
Starbottle. Permit me, ladies and gentlemen, to--er--explain: our
friend is--er--evidently laboring under--er--er--accident of
hospitality! In a moment he will be himself.
Old Morton. Hush up! Dry up--yourself--old turkey-cock! Eh!
Sandy (despairingly). He will not understand us! (To STARBOTTLE.


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