http://www.PageByPageBooks.com/P_G_Wodehouse/

http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/notable_writers/songs/C5047

http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Author:Jerome_Kern

Bertie uses the telegram of Jeeves' inheritance as an excuse to go to England to get away from the telegrams informing him that both aunts and fiancees are coming to Manhattan. "Having failed to run the fox to ground the hounds will return to the manor house."

Ways to have three people: Telephone, telegram.pre-recorded

Mabel raised in orphanage, Bertie complaining about relatives he'd like to get rid of.

Jeeves: "She walks in beuty like the night" Mabel : There was a young man from Nantucket. Jeeves" Will that be all sir. "

Jeeves encycopedic knowldege, Mabel rattles off baseball statistics.

I can't get started

Jeeves orquestrates the telegrams to get Bertie to leave America. He is bringing the third one which he think s is also for Bertie but turns out to be for him. Mabel arrives, Bertie tells her he has to go to England, but will come back for her. Something is done between Mabel and Bertie (the way she ties a knot SONG?Red Sails in the sunset) that Jeeves :There is some business which I have to attend to before I can return. (We think he is going to confront Mabel - he was made at first, then noticed the knot, which can 'only be executed by a person with a peculiar hyperextension of the third metatarsal joint on the left hand - this particular genetic anomoly is extremely rare, but is posessed by me, as it was by my father before me and his father before him." Jeeves then sends B on ahead, saying that he will be there after attending to some business. "Well be sure you are there in time the will is quite specific." Bertie goes to the lawyer and finds out about the time limit. Is unable to contact Jeeves, whose investigations took him into a remote such and such to the orphanage. At home in England, Bertie goes to the Drones. (the Stately homes of the english) HE is announcing his intention to marry and move to America, spurns England, the houses with no plumbing, dusty, cold, infested with ghosts. Bertie gets telegram from Jeeves, taking longer than expected, shall meet him at the appointed hour at the lawyer's office. Bertie creates back-up plan. Needs someone to impersonate Jeeves. Asks him to work it out with the other drones as to which of them can do it, be ready to come to lawyers office at appointed time. (Enter Aunt Agatha, Madeline, Dahlia, Honoria - Bertie narrates their entrance after "Bertram Wilbeforce Wooster!" "Why haven't you answered my telegrams. We have wedding plans to finalize" "Wedding plans He's going to marry me!" "Bertie, you idiot" "Marry you...who would ever marry a complete nincompoop like you"

"Why I've never been so insulted!" They both break off, exit Agatha, Honoria, Madeline, lastly Dahlia"Bertie you're an idiot. See you for tea next Thursday at Brinkly nephew of mine." "Ah, yes of course, aged relative of mine." During the montage sequence, every time Bertie is about to propose, the echo of "It's a Sin to Tell a Lie" duet stops him.

The thing that finally makes Jeeves suspicious is the way she pours coffee, the unique way in which he does it and his father and his father before him. the peculiar extension of the third metatarsal joint

(I can see this song toward the beginning, Bertie explaining how they got together, being sung while he and Jeeves go through a morning routine of tea and dressing for the day...)

BERTIE: I never dreamt that I would discoverthe perfect butler someday, nor that I'd recognize him if everhe came 'round my way.I never used to fancy thenHe'd be one of those take-charge kind of men,With a giant brain and a noble headLike the heroes boldIn the books I've read.But along came Jeeves, who surely fits the bill, We saunter down the street, My! How they notice us.Our form and face,our manly grace,Are just the kind that youWould find in a statue,And I can't explain,perhaps it is his brain, what schemes he weaves -I keep (need?) him because he's wonderful,Because he's just my Jeeves.

JEEVES:He can't play golf or tennis or polo,Or sing a solo, or row.He isn't half as handsomeAs dozens of men that I know.He isn't tall or straight or slimAnd his taste is far worse than Ted or Jim.And I can't explain how that he should beJust the one, one man in the world for me.I'm just his Jeeves, this ordinary man,who hasn't got a thing that he can brag about.And yet to be his employee,So comfy and roomySeems natural to me.And I can't explain,to contemplate his brainmy poor heart grieves -I serve him because of - I don't know...because I'm just his Jeeves.

(Music and dressing routine)

And I can't express, I know I'd be a mess, If e'er he leaves,

I need him because he's...I don't know,Because he's just my Jeeves.

A verse for Bertie, a verse for Jeeves "I'm just his Jeeves: A duet at the end "I can't explain, it's surely not his brain/perhaps it is his brain (Stop and look)some counterpointing rhyme one to the other - I love him because I'm/he's I dont know because he's/i'm just his/my jeeves."

SONGS:Smile/DreamSomeday I'll Find You (Noel Coward)Mad Dogs and Englishman ( rough sarcastic lyrics though )The Stately Homes of England..Am I Blue?  (Akst & Clarke1929 ).Minnie the MoocherTea for Two(w/countermelody, Bertie gets sloshed by end of song and consents to marry.) I Can't Get StartedIt's a Sin to Tell a LieJust a GigoloAin't Misbehavin'Chinatown my ChinatownSonny BoyI'm Always Chasing RainbowsAfter You've GoneOh How I hate to get up in the morningStumbling (Together with "I Won't Dance")Me and My ShadowI'm Sitting ON Top of the WorldManhattan You Were Meant for MeSomeone to Watch over me

ChloeThe Road to MandalayI've Got a Crush on YouYou're the Cream in My CoffeeWedding Bells Are Breaking up That Old Gang of MineOn the Sunny Side of the StreetAll of MeA Fine RomanceI Found a Million Dollar Baby (in a Five and Ten Cent Store)Fit as a Fiddle (And Ready for Love)Isn't It Romantic?How's Chances?It's Only a Paper MoonPick Yourself Up (b/t Jeeves and bertie)?Who?The Siren Song (Bertie) Cleopatterer (Her)The Continental (song)Don't Fence Me In (song)I Won't Dance together with StumblingRed Sails in the SunsetTill the Clouds Roll By - (Wodehouse) With umbrellas and thunder/rain sound effects during the song. The Way you Look TonightAbout a Quarter to NineAbba Dabba HoneymoonButton Up Your OvercoatThe Dummy Song ( Aunt Dahlia )...think I sent that to you alreadyMe and My Shadow ( Bertie and Jeeves )Baby Its Cold Outside (Bertie and Mabel)....I seem to recall you don't like this for some reason...Jeepers Creepers (Bertie)Whistle While You Work (Mabel )I Wanna Be Loved by You (?)You Are My Lucky Star (Madeline )

Look for the Silver Lining ( Jeeves sings to Bertie )Button Up Your Overcoat (Honoria )Lady is a Tramp ( Aunt Agatha referring to Mabel )....what if this was pre-recorded...and it appears that its coming out of the telephone while Bertie holds it out from his ear...The Queen of the NightI've danced with a man, who's danced with a girl, who's danced with the Prince of Wales

Bertram Wilbeforce Wooster!!!Would Mad Dogs and Englishmen or Stately Homes of England work for the Drones? ( still concerned as to number )...we want to make sure that whatever these Drones have to do...we can take it out easily should it turn out they are unavailable. I'm sort of envisioning the beginning with Bertie alone in bed...feeling like he wants to die....he begins talking about Jeeves ( I think I see Bertie delivering his narratives to the audience - and then stepping back in to the action )....and then Jeeves shimmers in with one of his pick me ups....and we go from there.Maybe the bed changes to the tub....and we get right into the problem with the white mess jacket

Jeeves—my man, you know—is really a most extraordinary chap. So capable. Honestly, I shouldn't know what to do without him. On broader lines he's like those chappies who sit peering sadly over the marble battlements at the Pennsylvania Station in the place marked "Inquiries." You know the Johnnies I mean. You go up to them and say: "When's the next train for Melonsquashville, Tennessee?" and they reply, without stopping to think, "Two-forty-three, track ten, change at San Francisco." And they're right every time. Well, Jeeves gives you just the same impression of omniscience. That's why it was so remarkable in this recent case involving myself, Madeline, Honoria, Mabel, and.....

No—wait. Hold the line a minute. I've gone off the rails.

I don't know if you have had the same experience, but the snag I always come up against when I'm telling a story is this dashed difficult problem of where to begin it. It's a thing you don't want to go wrong over, because one false step and you're sunk. I mean, if you fool about too long at the start, trying to establish atmosphere, as they call it, and all that sort of rot, you fail to grip and the customers walk out on you.

Get off the mark, on the other hand, like a scalded cat, and your public is at a loss. It simply raises its eyebrows, and can't make out what you're talking about.

So, then... (beginning to assume position in bed.) to my way of thinking, every proper story begins with a cup of tea...yes! That's it! A lovely cupper at home in bed with the morning papers straddled wantonly across the lap....

********************

JEEVES LINES:

"There is no time, sir, at which ties do not matter. "

"I endeavor to give satisfaction, sir."

"There are no limits to Jeeves' brain power. He virtually lives on fish."

"One of your special morning afters, if you please, Jeeves.

(Perhaps the dialogue below in reference to that particular African looking article you purchased.)

He oozed out and a few moments later oozed back in again.

Jeeves trickled in with the tray, like some silent stream meandering over its mossy bed....

The fact that Jeeves 'oozes' in and out, trickles, is hardly noticed is something that needs to be communicated early on. He will do that a lot in order to change characters!

********************

Bertie gets engaged to two women in England, flees to NY where they telegram him trying to make arrangements, Jeeves is working to get him out of it when he gets engaged to a third women.

"Jeeves- I've gotten engaged"

"I see, sir. Pardon me sir, but doesn't this make three?"

"yes Jeeves."

"Well I must applaud your persistence , sir. I don't know that I've ever seen you stick at anything quite this long before."

"Jeeves, I don't comprehend what all this fuss is about! It's not such an unusual circumstance to find bertram Wooster engaged. I have been affianced on a number of occasions. There was (name) and then there was (name), and oh! ah! let's not forget (name)."

"Indeed, sir. Or (Name) and, oh yes, let us not forget Ms. (Name), on the occasion, as I recall, of your finding her teeth to be , as I believe you phrased it, 'as fine a set of pearly gates as ever St. Peter polished'!"

"Well...yes....my point exactly....."

"Yes, it is true, as you say, sir, that you have donned the banns on a number of occasions...but it is also true that you have always shown the good taste to relinquish one engagement before embarking upon the next."

"Oh-ah-yes! I see what you mean. Well, Jeeves, let it not be said that Bertram Wooster was ever a one to shrink from a challenge. There's only one thing for it."

"Yes, sir. I shall pack your bag immediately."

"Yes...what? No...no Jeeves. Not this time!"

"Indeed, sir? I fail to follow."

"Jeeves, there comes a time in a man's life when he must stop running...a time when he must turn and face the advancing hordes. And you know what that time is, Jeeves?"

"The time at which one is captured and hung upside down over a pot of boiling oil, sir?"

"No, Jeeves. It is the time when one grows...when a mere seedling of a human being burgeons forth into full manhood."

"Very good, sir. I shall endeavor to select an appropriate tie for burgeoning."

"Tie? What the devil does the color of my tie have to do with anything? That doesn't matter at a time like this!"

"If you'll excuse me, sir, there is never a time when ties do not matter."

*******************

At the beginning while the first two engagements are being set up, we focus on character development. By the time he goes to Manhattan, we focus more on the third romance.

********************

The Three women:

Low- Brunette - Aunt Agatha's pick - Fixer - make something of Bertie - Family , children, - Tea for Two (with Gin countermelody) "Tea - with a nip of brandy or gin...."

All the extras who want to be involved can be Drones.  It would be funny to see girls dress up as whatever their idea of upper crust English Public School twits may be.  Then each of them gets to try an accent, and if they're bad at it, that's still funny.  (Maybe even Sean could give it a go.)

In the beginning, when Bertie is supposed to go meet with the woman Aunt A. wants him to marry, we said he would go to the Drones' club to get pickled before he works up the nerve to go meet with the woman. So, in doing this he can introduce us to the Drones' Club members, a little exposition, etc.  He stays a little longer than expected because he really doesn't want to go, and perhaps the woman herself, upon recommendation from Aunt A.,  goes to the Drones' looking for him.  She's the type who would have no hesitation about charging into

a men's club ("Here, now! who are you? This is men only!") and shouting out "I say, has anybody seen a chap name of Bertie Wooster?"  At which point, all the guys in the club, anxious to aid him in hiding, start shouting out, one by one, "I'm Bertie Wooster!"  "No, I'm Bertie Wooster" "No, I'm Bertie Wooster".   (This sets the scene for the end when they all pop up as Jeeves's, which is typical Wodehouse structure.)  Bertie says something about being almost as proud as "that Spartacus, chappie", and the trick almost works, but somehow she spots him and knows him.  It then proceeds to the scene with "Tea for Two".  

I think it could be a good mechanism also for scene changes.  Bertie's Drones friends relating parts of the story in their own particular personalities, etc.    

************************

Medium - Redhead - Waitress - Bertie falls head over heels - A Fine Romance - Keep getting interrupted - Manhattan(B and J heading off to get away from Aunt A, he meets waitress in Manhattan.) Meeting waitress when she gets off an 8:45, Jeeves chiming in "no good can come of this....I'll be getting him out of this one again...." This is the only romance we root for, but in the end it's a choice b/t her or Jeeves. Scenes b/t her and Jeeves. She is a server as well, they have different philosophies of service. (Jeeves' verse of A Fine Romance) Bertie is the pursuer in this relationship, Jeeves speaks against it. (About a Quarter to Nine) They have been going out, (montage sequence for passage of time)Bertie is hesitant to let it go further due to his problem , she sings a Fine Romance, Bertie is on the verge of saying "I will", it thunders and rains - they sing "Till The Clouds Roll By" at the very end he says "Will you marry me, she says yes, " the umbrella in front, implied kiss.

"A fine romance, I fear this is, A fine Romance, she clears dishes! She claims to clean and polish for pure enjoyment, If this keeps up I'm staring at unemployment, A fine romance for my master, is this romance or disaster? ("Hey Bertie, you need some help in there?)And next she'll want to iron and press his pants, I do not stand a chance, this is a fine romance". (Perhaps it would be better miss if I were to check on Mr. Wooster.) "Well, I guess if you think so. I'll just finish up in here. I'll put the coffee on...."(Bertie spills something and has to leave, Jeeves follows, re-enters as Jeeves while Mabel has begun to clean up..) Ah, please mind the. (crash)......Not at all, Miss. Fine English bone china is quite durable.....

Montage -(Quarter to nine unites it)- she always gets off at that time) Telegrams come from England (leitmotif songs from the other fiance's, aunt agatha, aunt dahlia ) as Bertie's romance with waitress progresses

What about Mabel Malloy ?

So...she is the Jeeves' first child...they had just arrived from England, Mabel was a sickly little baby, and they couldn't afford to care for her properly.So...they left her on the doorstep of the Vanderschnootens or whomever they were working for....and returned to London on a night steamer.The housekeeper and gardener, the kindly but childless Bridget and Seamus Malloy took her in and raised her as their own.

*******************************

High - (Madeline Bassett) Platinum blonde - Dreamy, thinks Bertie loves her - on again off again - Smile/Dream

"Oh, look," she said. She was a confirmed Oh-looker. I had noticed this at Cannes, where she had drawn my attention in this manner on various occasions to such diverse objects as a French actress, a Provençal filling station, the sunset over the Estorels, Michael Arlen, a man selling coloured spectacles, the deep velvet blue of the Mediterranean, and the late mayor of New York in a striped one-piece bathing suit. "Oh, look at that sweet little star up there all by itself."

I saw the one she meant, a little chap operating in a detached sort of way above a spinney.

"Yes," I said.

"I wonder if it feels lonely."

"Oh, I shouldn't think so."

"A fairy must have been crying."

"Eh?"

"Don't you remember? 'Every time a fairy sheds a tear, a wee bit star is born in the Milky Way.' Have you ever thought that, Mr. Wooster?"

I never had. Most improbable, I considered, and it didn't seem to me to check up with her statement that the stars were God's daisy chain. I mean, you can't have it both ways.However, I was in no mood to dissect and criticize. I saw that I had been wrong in supposing that the stars were not germane to the issue. Quite a decent cue they had provided, and I leaped on it promptly: "Talking of shedding tears----"

But she was now on the subject of rabbits, several of which were messing about in the park to our right.

"Oh, look. The little bunnies!"

"Talking of shedding tears----""Don't you love this time of the evening, Mr. Wooster, when the sun has gone to bed and all the bunnies come out to have their little suppers? When I was a child, I used to think that rabbits were gnomes, and that if I held my breath and stayed quite still, I should see the fairy queen."

Indicating with a reserved gesture that this was just the sort of loony thing I should have expected her to think as a child, I returned to the point.

********************************

Aunt Agatha comes in, insults him(Character exposition) has the perfect girl for him- he must meet her because he can't say no - but he needs to go to Drones' club first - gets drunk to work his way up to it, half crocked by the time he arrives - then Tea for Two - he accepts proposal. Next morning hangover, pick me up - he remembers what he did - Jeeves gets the suitcase they are going to flee to the country till it all blows over.

"Once the rings are on their fingers, Bertie Wooster never lingers!"

********************************

In the country, Bertie deals with Aunt Dahlia

"Jeeves- I've gotten engaged" "I see, sir. Pardon me sir, but doesn't this make three?" "yes Jeeves." "Well I must applaud your persistence , sir. I don't know that I've ever seen you stick at something quite this long."

http://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Honeymoon_Inn.pdf&page=2

Let me put you in the sitch!

Bertie gets engaged to three different women. (Trio - It's a sin to tell a lie)

**********"Indeed, sir.""Indeed, sir.""Indeed, sir.""Jeeves, don't keep saying 'Indeed, sir?' No doubt nothing is further from your mind than to convey such a suggestion, but you have a way of stressing the 'in' and then coming down with a thud on the 'deed' which makes it virtually tantamount to 'Oh, yeah?' Correct this, Jeeves."

"So sorry, sir."

***********

Well packed picnic lunch w/ martini accoutrements

http://www.PageByPageBooks.com/P_G_Wodehouse/

http://www.songwritershalloffame.org/notable_writers/songs/C5047

http://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Author:Jerome_Kern

http://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Honeymoon_Inn.pdf&page=2

Let me put you in the sitch!

Interchange playing the part of jeeeves. Perhaps both jeeves at same time singing a duet.

(I can see this song toward the beginning, Bertie explaining how they got together, being sung while he and Jeeves go through a morning routine of tea and dressing for the day...)

BERTIE: I used to dream that I would discoverthe perfect butler someday.I knew I'd recognize him if everhe came 'round my way.I never used to fancy thenHe'd be one of those take-charge kind of men,With a giant brain and a noble headLike the heroes boldIn the books I've read.But along came Jeeves, who surely fits the bill, We saunter down the street, My! How they notice us.Our form and face,our manly grace,Are just the kind that youWould find in a statue,And I can't explain,perhaps it is his brain, what plans (schemes?) it weaves -I keep him because he's wonderful,Because he's just my Jeeves.

(Music and dressing routine)

And I can't express, I know I'll be a mess, If e'er he leaves,I need him because he's...I don't know,Because he's just my Jeeves.

He can't play golf or tennis or polo,Or sing a solo, or row.He isn't half as handsomeAs dozens of men that I know.He isn't tall or straight or slimAnd he dresses far worse than Ted or Jim.And I can't explain why he should beJust the one, one man in the world for me.He's just my Bill an ordinary man,He hasn't got a thing that I can brag about.And yet to beUpon his kneeSo comfy and roomySeems natural to me.Oh, I can't explain,It's surely not his brainThat makes me thrill -I love him because he's - I don't know...Because he's just my Bill.

And I cant explain, perhaps it is his brainWhat schemes(plans) he weaves!

And i can't express, I know I'll be a mess, If e'er he leaves,I need him because he's...I don;t know,Because He's just my Jeeves.

SONGS:

Minnie the MoocherTea for Two

I Can't Get StartedIt's a Sin to Tell a LieJust a GigoloAin't Misbehavin'Chinatown my ChinatownSonny BoyI'm Always Chasing RainbowsAfter You've GoneOh How I hate to get up in the morningStumbling (Together with "I Won't Dance")Me and My ShadowI'm Sitting ON Top of the WorldManhattan You Were Meant for MeSomeone to Watch over meChloeThe Road to MandalayI've Got a Crush on YouYou're the Cream in My CoffeeWedding Bells Are Breaking up That Old Gang of MineOn the Sunny Side of the StreetAll of MeA Fine RomanceI Found a Million Dollar Baby (in a Five and Ten Cent Store)Fit as a Fiddle (And Ready for Love)Isn't It Romantic?How's Chances?It's Only a Paper MoonPick Yourself Up (b/t Jeeves and bertie)?Who?The Siren Song (Bertie) Cleopatterer (Her)The Continental (song)Don't Fence Me In (song)I Won't DanceRed Sails in the Sunset

I've danced with a man, who's danced with a girl, who's danced with the Prince of WalesTHE AGONIES OF WRITING A MUSICAL COMEDY

Which Shows Why Librettists Pick at the Coverlet

The trouble about musical comedy, and the reason why a great manyotherwise kindly and broadminded persons lie in wait round the cornerwith sudden scowls, their whole being intent on beating it with abrick the moment it shows its head, is that, from outside, it lookstoo easy.

You come into the crowded theatre and consider that each occupant ofan orchestra chair is contributing three or four cents to the upkeepof a fellow who did nothing but dash off the stuff that keeps thenumbers apart, and your blood boils. A glow of honest resentment fillsyou at the thought of anyone having such an absolute snap. You littleknow what the poor bird has suffered, and how inadequate a reward arehis few yens per week for what he has been through. Musical comedy isnot dashed off. It grows--slowly and painfully, and each step in itsgrowth either bleaches another tuft of the author's hair or removes itfrom the parent skull altogether.

The average musical comedy comes into being because somebody--not thepublic, but a manager--wants one. We will say that Mr. and Mrs.Whoosis, the eminent ballroom dancers, have decided that they requirea different sphere for the exhibition of their talents. They do not

demand a drama. They commission somebody to write them a musicalcomedy. Some poor, misguided creature is wheedled into signing acontract: and, from that moment, his troubles begin.

An inspiration gives him a pleasing and ingenious plot. Full ofoptimism, he starts to write it. By the time he has finished anexcellent first act, he is informed that Mr. and Mrs. Whoosis proposeto sing three solos and two duets in the first act and five in thesecond, and will he kindly build his script accordingly? This bafflesthe author a little. He is aware that both artistes, though extremelygifted northward as far as the ankle-bone, go all to pieces above thatlevel, with the result that by the time you reach the zone where thebrains and voice are located, there is nothing stirring whatever. Andhe had allowed for this in his original conception of the play, bymaking Mrs. Whoosis a deaf-mute and Mr. Whoosis a Trappist monk underthe perpetual vow of silence. The unfolding of the plot he had left tothe other characters, with a few ingenious gaps where the two starscould come on and dance.

He takes a stiff bracer, ties a vinegar-soaked handkerchief round hisforehead, and sets to work to remodel his piece. He is a triflediscouraged, but he perseveres. With almost superhuman toil hecontrives the only possible story which will fit the necessities of

the case. He has wrapped up the script and is about to stroll roundthe corner to mail it, when he learns from the manager who is actingas intermediary between the parties concerned in the production thatthere is a slight hitch. Instead of having fifty thousand dollarsdeposited in the bank to back the play, it seems that the artistesmerely said in their conversation that it would be awfully jolly ifthey _did_ have that sum, or words to that effect.

By this time our author has got the thing into his system: or, rather,he has worked so hard that he feels he cannot abandon the venture now.He hunts for another manager who wants something musical, and atlength finds one. The only proviso is that this manager does not needa piece built around two stars, but one suited to the needs of JasperCutup, the well-known comedian, whom he has under contract. Thepersonality of Jasper is familiar to the author, so he works for amonth or two and remoulds the play to fit him. With the script underhis arm he staggers to the manager's office. The manager reads thescript--smiles--chuckles--thoroughly enjoys it. Then a cloud passesathwart his brow. "There's only one thing the matter with this piece,"he says. "You seem to have written it to star a comedian." "But yousaid you wanted it for Jasper Cutup," gasps the author, supportinghimself against the water-cooler. "Well, yes, that is so," replies the

manager. "I remember I did want a piece for him then, but he's goneand signed up with K. and Lee. What I wish you would do is to takethis script and twist it to be a vehicle for Pansy Glucose."

"Pansy Glucose?" moans the author. "The ingenue?" "Yes," says themanager. "It won't take long. Just turn your Milwaukee picklemanufacturer into a debutante, and the thing is done. Get to work assoon as you can. I want this rushed."

All this is but a portion of the musical comedy author's troubles. Wewill assume that he eventually finds a manager who really does put thepiece into rehearsal. We will even assume that he encounters none ofthe trials to which I have alluded. We will even go further and assumethat he is commissioned to write a musical comedy without any definitestellar personality in mind, and that when he has finished it themanager will do his share by providing a suitable cast. Is he in soft?No, dear reader, he is not in soft. You have forgotten the "Gurls."Critics are inclined to reproach, deride, blame and generally hammerthe author of a musical comedy because his plot is not so consecutiveand unbroken as the plot of a farce or a comedy. They do not realizethe conditions under which he is working. It is one of the immutablelaws governing musical plays that at certain intervals during theevening the audience demand to see the chorus. They may not be aware

that they so demand, but it is nevertheless a fact that, unless thechorus come on at these fixed intervals, the audience's interest sags.The raciest farce-scenes cannot hold them, nor the most tender lovepassages. They want the gurls, the whole gurls, and nothing but thegurls.

Thus it comes about that the author, having at last finished his firstact, is roused from his dream of content by a horrid fear. He turns tothe script, and discovers that his panic was well grounded. He hascarelessly allowed fully twenty pages to pass without once bringing onthe chorus.

This is where he begins to clutch his forehead and to grow gray at thetemples. He cannot possibly shift musical number four, which is achorus number, into the spot now occupied by musical number three,which is a duet, because three is a "situation" number, rooted to itsplace by the exigencies of the story. The only thing to do is to pullthe act to pieces and start afresh. And when you consider that thissort of thing happens not once but a dozen times between the start ofa musical comedy book and its completion, can you wonder that thisbranch of writing is included among the dangerous trades and thatlibrettists always end by picking at the coverlet?

Then there is the question of cast. The author builds his hero in such

a manner that he requires an actor who can sing, dance, be funny, andcarry a love interest. When the time comes to cast the piece, he findsthat the only possible man in sight wants fifteen hundred a week and,anyway, is signed up for the next five years with the rival syndicate.He is then faced with the alternative of revising his play to suiteither: a) Jones, who can sing and dance, but is not funny; b) Smith,who is funny, but cannot sing and dance; c) Brown, who is funny andcan sing and dance, but who cannot carry a love-interest and, throughworking in revue, has developed a habit of wandering down to thefootlights and chatting with the audience. Whichever actor is giventhe job, it means more rewriting.

Overcome this difficulty, and another arises. Certain scenes areconstructed so that A gets a laugh at the expense of B; but B is afive-hundred-a-week comedian and A is a two-hundred-a-week juvenile,and B refuses to "play straight" even for an instant for a socialinferior. The original line is such that it cannot be simply switchedfrom one to the other. The scene has to be entirely reconstructed andfurther laugh lines thought of. Multiply this by a hundred, and youwill begin to understand why, when you see a librettist, he isgenerally lying on his back on the sidewalk with a crowd standinground, saying, "Give him air."

So, do not grudge the librettist his thousand a week or whatever itis. Remember what he has suffered and consider his emotions on themorning after the production when he sees lines which he invented atthe cost of permanently straining his brain, attributed by the criticsto the impromptu invention of the leading comedian. Of all the saddestwords of tongue or pen, the saddest--to a musical comedy author--arethese in the morning paper: "The bulk of the humor was sustained byWalter Wiffle, who gagged his way merrily through the piece."

ON THE WRITING OF LYRICS

The musical comedy lyric is an interesting survival of the days, longsince departed, when poets worked. As everyone knows, the only realobstacle in the way of turning out poetry by the mile was the factthat you had to make the darned stuff rhyme.

Many lyricists rhyme as they pronounce, and their pronunciation issimply horrible. They can make "home" rhyme with "alone," and "saw"with "more," and go right off and look their innocent children in theeye without a touch of shame.

But let us not blame the erring lyricist too much. It isn't his faultthat he does these things. It is the fault of the English language.

Whoever invented the English language must have been a prose-writer,not a versifier; for he has made meagre provision for the poets.Indeed, the word "you" is almost the only decent chance he has giventhem. You can do something with a word like "you." It rhymes with"sue," "eyes of blue," "woo," and all sorts of succulent things,easily fitted into the fabric of a lyric. And it has the enormousadvantage that it can be repeated thrice at the end of a refrain whenthe composer has given you those three long notes, which is about alla composer ever thinks of. When a composer hands a lyricist a "dummy"for a song, ending thus,

Tiddley-tum, tiddley-tum, Pom-pom-pom, pom-pom-pom, Tum, tum, tum,

the lyricist just shoves down "You, you, you" for the last line, andthen sets to work to fit the rest of the words to it. I have dwelledon this, for it is noteworthy as the only bright spot in a lyricist'slife, the only real cinch the poor man has.

But take the word "love."

When the board of directors, or whoever it was, was arranging thelanguage, you would have thought that, if they had had a spark of pityin their systems, they would have tacked on to that emotion ofthoughts of which the young man's fancy lightly turns in spring, someword ending in an open vowel. They must have known that

lyricistswould want to use whatever word they selected as a label for theabove-mentioned emotion far more frequently than any other word in thelanguage. It wasn't much to ask of them to choose a word capable ofnumerous rhymes. But no, they went and made it "love," causing vastmisery to millions.

"Love" rhymes with "dove," "glove," "above," and "shove." It is truethat poets who print their stuff instead of having it sung take a meanadvantage by ringing in words like "prove" and "move"; but thelyricist is not allowed to do that. This is the wretched unfairness ofthe lyricist's lot. The language gets him both ways. It won't let himrhyme "love" with "move," and it won't let him rhyme "maternal" with"colonel." If he tries the first course, he is told that the rhyme,though all right for the eye, is wrong for the ear. If he tries thesecond course, they say that the rhyme, though more or lessninety-nine percent pure for the ear, falls short when tested by theeye. And, when he is driven back on one of the regular, guaranteedrhymes, he is taunted with triteness of phrase.

No lyricist wants to keep linking "love" with "skies above" and"turtle dove," but what can he do? You can't do a thing with "shove";and "glove" is one of those aloof words which are not good mixers.And--mark the brutality of the thing--there is no word you can

substitute for "love." It is just as if they did it on purpose.

"Home" is another example. It is the lyricist's staff of life. But allhe can do is to roam across the foam, if he wants to use it. He canput in "Nome," of course, as a pinch-hitter in special crises, butvery seldom; with the result that his poetic soul, straining at itsbonds, goes and uses "alone," "bone," "tone," and "thrown," excitinghoots of derision.

But it is not only the paucity of rhymes that sours the lyricist'slife. He is restricted in his use of material, as well. If everyaudience to which a musical comedy is destined to play were ametropolitan audience, all might be well; but there is the "road" toconsider. And even a metropolitan audience likes its lyrics as much aspossible in the language of everyday. That is one of the thousandreasons why new Gilberts do not arise. Gilbert had the advantage ofbeing a genius, but he had the additional advantage of writing for apublic which permitted him to use his full vocabulary, and even todrop into foreign languages, even Latin and a little Greek when hefelt like it. (I allude to that song in "The Grand Duke.")

And yet the modern lyricist, to look on the bright side, hasadvantages that Gilbert never had. Gilbert never realised thepossibilities of Hawaii, with its admirably named

beaches, shores, andmusical instruments. Hawaii--capable as it is of being rhymed with"higher"--has done much to sweeten the lot--and increase the annualincome of an industrious and highly respectable but down-trodden classof the community.