Our Town George Gibbs Lines

Yes, Pa!

MR. GIBBS: George, look sharp!

(EN UR)

STAGE MANAGER: We've got a factory in our town, too - hear it? Makes blankets. Cartwrights own it and it brung 'em a fortune.

Aw, Ma - I gotta lotta things to buy.

MRS. GIBBS: I declare I don't know how you spend it all.

I don't see how Rebecca comes to have so much money. She has more'n a dollar.

MRS. GIBBS: Strawberry phosphates - that's what you spend it on.

I don't want any more.

EMILY: Mama there's first bell.

WALLY: I gotta hurry.

Excuse me, Mrs. Forrest.

(He bumps into an old lady invisible to us.) En USR walking forward

Awfully sorry, Mrs. Forrest

- Hello, Emily.

MRS. FORREST: You got no business playing baseball on Main Street.

You made a fine speech in class.

EMILY: H'lo.

Gee, it's funny, Emily. From my window up there, I can just see your head nights when you're doing your homework over in your room.

EMILY: I worked an awful long time on both of them.

You sure do stick to it, Emily. I don't see how you can sit still that long. I guess you like school

EMILY: Why, can you?

Yeah.

EMILY: Well, I always feel it's something you have to go through

Yeah. - Emily, what do you think? We might work out a kinda telegraph from your window to mine; and once in a while you could give me a hint or two about one of those algebra problems.

I don't mean the answers, Emily, of course not... just some little hint...

EMILY: I don't mind it, really. It passes the time.

Emily, you're just naturally bright, I guess.

EMILY: So - ah - if you get stuck, George, you whistle to me; and I'll give you some hints.

Yeah. But, you see, I want to be a farmer, and my uncle Luke says whenever I'm ready I can come over and work on his farm and if I'm any good I can just gradually have it.

EMILY: I figure that it's just the way a person's born.

Yeah.

Well, thanks...I better be getting out to the baseball field. Thanks for the talk Emily. - Good afternoon, Mrs. Webb.

EMILY: You mean the house and everything?

So long, Emily.

Ex UL

MRS WEBB: Good afternoon, George.

Hssst! Emily!

SIMON STIMSON: You couldn't beat'em, even if you wanted to. Now again. Tenors!

Hello!

EMILY: Hello!

Emily, did you get the third problem?

EMILY: The moonlight's so terrible.

The third?

EMILY: Which?

I don't see it. Emily, can you give me a hint?

EMILY: Why, yes, George - that's the easiest of them all.

(!!!) In yards? How do you mean?

EMILY: I'll tell you one thing: the answer's in yards.

Oh...in square yards.

EMILY: In square yards.

Yeah. (He does not see.)

EMILY: Yes, George, don't you see?

Wallpaper - oh, I see. Thanks a lot, Emily.

EMILY: In square yards of wallpaper.

M-m-m - What do you know!

EMILY: I think if you hold your breath you can hear the train all the way to Contoocook.

Hear it?

Good night, Emily. And thanks.

EMILY: Well, I guess I better go back and try to work.

Yes, Pa.

DR GIBBS: Oh, George, can you come down a minute?

I? I'm sixteen, almost seventeen.

DR GIBBS: Make yourself comfortable, George. I'll only keep you a minute.

George, how old are you?

Why, you know, Pa. I want to be a farmer on Uncle Luke's farm.

DR GIBBS: What do you want to do after school's over?

Sure I will. What are you...what do you mean, Pa?

DR. GIBBS: You'll be willing, will you, to get up early and milk and feed the stock...and you'll be able to hoe and hay all day?

(GEORGE turns slowly, ashamed.)

DR. GIBBS: Well, George, while I was in my office today I heard a funny sound... and what do you think it was? It was your mother chopping wood.

(GEORGE retreats.)

DR. GIBBS: There you see your mother - getting up early; cooking meals all day long; washing and ironing; - and still she has to go out in the back yard and chop wood. I suppose she just got tired of asking you.

(GEORGE snivels.)

DR. GIBBS: And you eat her meals, and put on the clothes she keeps nice for you, and you run off and play baseball - like she's some hired girl we keep around the house but that we don't like very much.

(GEORGE blows nose.)

DR. GIBBS: Well, I knew all I had to do was call your attention to it. Here's a handkerchief, son.

Thanks, Pa.

DR. GIBBS: Not, of course, for chopping wood for your mother, because that's a present you give her, but because you're getting older - and I imagine there are lots of things you must find to do with it.

(still broken up) It's only half past eight, Pa.

DR. GIBBS: Wonder what could have happened to your mother. Choir practice never was as late as this before.

Yes, Pa.

DR. GIBBS: ...Just about time you retired, don't you think?

(GEORGE snaps off the light on his ladder-shelf as his mother goes by.)

MRS. SOAMES: It's as bright as day. I can see Mr. Soames scowling at the window now. (laughs at the thought) You'd think we'd been to a dance the way the menfolk carry on.

Get out, Rebecca. There's only room for one at this window. You're always spoiling everything.

DR GIBBS: They're all getting citified, that's the trouble with them. They haven't got nothing fit to burgle and everybody knows it.

Use your own window.

REBECCA: (at the moon) Well, let me look just a minute.

Rebecca, you don't know anything. If the moon were getting nearer, the guys that sit up all night with telescopes would see it first and they'd tell about it, and it'd be in all the newspapers. (Pause)

REBECCA: George, do you know what I think, do you? I think maybe the moon's getting nearer and nearer and there'll be a big 'splosion.

Well - prob'ly is.

REBECCA: George, is the moon shining on South America, Canada and half the whole world?

What's funny about that?

REBECCA: He wrote Jane a letter, and on the envelope the address was like this: It said: Jane Crofut; The Crofut Farm; Grover's Corners; Sutton County; New Hampshire; United States of America.

What do you know!

REBECCA: But listen, it's not finished: the United States of America, Continent of North America, Western Hemisphere; the Earth; the Solar System; the Universe; the Mind of God - that's what it said on the envelope.

What do you know!

REBECCA: And the postman brought it just the same.

En CR. Start through trellis

Good morning, everybody. Only five more hours to live.

MRS. GIBBS: Lord's sakes! - This has got to stop. - Rebecca! Rebecca! Come and get your breakfast.

Just stepping across the grass to see my girl.

MRS. GIBBS: George Gibbs, where are you going?

Aw Ma, it's just a step!

MRS GIBBS: Now, George! You put on your overshoes. It's raining torrents. You don't go out of this house without you're prepared for it.

Be back in a minute.

X trellis

Good morning, Mother Webb.

MRS. GIBBS: Here, take a cup of coffee first.

Why not - ?

MRS. WEBB: Now George, you can come in a minute out of the wet, but you know I can't ask you in.

Aw! - that's just a superstition. - Good morning, Mr. Webb.

MRS. WEBB: George, you know as well as I do: the groom can't see his bride on his wedding day, not until he sees her in church.

(Laughing) Mr. Webb, you don't believe in that superstition, do you?

MR. WEBB: Good morning, George.

How is Emily?

MRS. WEBB: Millions have folla'd it, George, and you don't want to be the first to fly in the face of custom.

Emily's asleep!

MRS. WEBB: She hasn't waked up yet. I haven't heard a sound out of her.

(Startled, choking over his coffee) Oh, fine, I'm fine. (Pause. Earnestly.) Mr. Webb, what sense could there be in a superstition like that?

MR. WEBB: Well, George, how are you?

Y-e-e-s. I never thought of that.

MR. WEBB: Well, you see - on her wedding day, a girls head is apt to be full of...clothes and one thing or another. Don't you think that's probably it?

(Stirring coffee) I wish a fellow could get married without all that marching up and down.

MR. WEBB: A girl's apt to be a mite nervous on her wedding day

But...you believe in it, don't you, Mr. Webb?

MR. WEBB: Every man that's ever lived has felt that way about it, George; but it hasn't been any use. It's the womenfolk who have built up weddings, my boy. For a while now the women have it all their own. A man looks pretty small at a wedding, George. All those good women standing shoulder to shoulder making sure the knot's tied in a mighty public way.

No sir. (pause) Mr. Webb, how old were you when you got married?

MR. WEBB: Oh, yes; oh, yes. Don't you misunderstand me, my boy. Marriage is a wonderful thing, - wonderful thing. And don't you forget that, George.

What were you going to say, Mr. Webb?

MR. WEBB: Well, you see: I'd been to college and I'd taken a little time to get settled. But Mrs. Webb - she wasn't much older than what Emily is. Oh, age hasn't much to do with it, George, not compared with...uh...other things.

Well, Mr. Webb... I don't think I could...

MR. WEBB: And he said: if anything about your wife irritates you - her conversation, or anything - just get up and leave the house. That'll make it clear to her, he said. And, oh, yes! He said never, never let your wife know how much money you have, never.

What?

MR. WEBB: So I took the opposite of my father's advice and I've been happy every since. And let that be a lesson to you, George, never to ask advice on personal matters. - George, are you going to raise chickens on your farm?

(hitches chair nearer, enthusiastic)

Uncle Luke's never been much interested, but I thought -

MR. WEBB: Are you going to raise chickens on your farm?

Good-by.

(GEORGE crosses the stage to his own home, bewildered and crestfallen.)

MRS. WEBB: George, Emily's got to come downstairs and eat her breakfast. She sends you her love but she doesn't want to lay eyes on you. Good-by.

En UL

Can I carry your books home for you, Emily?

EMILY: ...Isn't that Cicero the worst thing - ! Tell your mother you have to. G'by. G'by, Helen. G'by, Fred.

(GEORGE takes her books under his arm, turns to speak offstage.)

Excuse me a minute, Emily. (hurriedly) Say, Bob, if I'm a little late, start practice anyway. And give Herb some long high ones.

EMILY: Why, uh, thank you. It isn't far.

(also to Lizzy, not enthusiastic) Good-by, Lizzy. - I'm awfully glad you were elected, too, Emily.

EMILY: Good-by, Lizzy.

(hurt.) Emily, why are you mad at me?

Emily: Thank you.

You've been treating me so funny lately.

EMILY: I'm not mad at you.

Good-by, Miss Corcoran. - Wha - what is it?

EMILY: Well, since you ask me, I might as well say it right out, George. -

(she catches sight of a teacher passing)

Good-by, Miss Corcoran.

(helpless and hurt)

I...I'm glad you said it, Emily. I never thought that such a thing was happening to me. I guess it's hard for a fella not to have faults creep into his character.

(They take a step or two in silence, then stand still in misery.)

EMILY: ...They may not say so to your face, but that's what they say about you behind your back, and it hurts me to hear them say it, but I've got to agree with them a little. I'm sorry if it hurts your feelings...but I can't be sorry I said it.

A change? -Wha - what do you mean?

EMILY: I'm sorry if that hurts your feelings, but I've got to - tell the truth and shame the devil.

(GEORGE turns away, a bit hurt.)

EMILY: I don't like the whole change that's come over you in the last year.

Oh...I don't think it's possible to be perfect, Emily.

EMILY: I always expect a man to be perfect and I think he should be.

Well, I feel it's the other way round. That men aren't naturally good; but girls are.

EMILY: Well, my father is, and as far as I can see, your father is. There's no reason on Earth why you shouldn't be, too.

(choked voice)

Emily, -

EMILY: Well, you might as well know right now that I'm not perfect. It's not as easy for a girl to be perfect as a man, because we girls are more - more - nervous. - Now I'm sorry I said all that about you. I don't know what made me say it. (cries)

Emily...would you like an ice-cream soda, or something, before you go home?

EMILY: Now I can see It's not the truth at all. And I suddenly feel that it isn't important, anyway.

(George starts to take her arm, but is too shy. They go to enter Ms. Morgan's drugstore. Under strong emotion, Emily keeps her face down. George speaks to some passer-by.)

Hello, Stew, - how are you? - Good afternoon, Mrs. Slocum.

(Hold door open for Emily.)

EMILY: (controlling herself)

Well, thank you...I would.

(George gropes for an explanation.)

She...she just got an awful scare, Ms. Morgan. She almost got run over by that hardware-store wagon. Everybody says that Tom Huckins drives like a crazy man.

STAGE MANAGER: Hello, George. Hello, Emily. - What'll you have? - Why, Emily Webb, - what you been crying about?

No, no, Emily. Have an ice-cream soda with me. Two strawberry ice-cream sodas, Ms. Morgan.

EMILY: I'll have a strawberry phosphate, thank you, Mr. Morgan.

No, no - Don't you think of that. We're celebrating our election. And then do you know what else I'm celebrating?

EMILY: They're so expensive.

I'm celebrating because I've got a friend who tells me all the things that ought to be told me.

EMILY: N-no.

(with a brief look at her)

No, Emily, you stick to it. I'm glad you spoke to me like you did. But you'll see: I'm going to change so quick - you bet I'm going to change. And, Emily, I want to ask you a favor.

EMILY: George, please don't think of that. I don't know why I said it. It's not true. You're -

Emily, if I go away to State Agriculture College next year...will you write me a letter once in a while?

EMILY: What?

(GEORGE looks outside.)

The day wouldn't come when I wouldn't want to know everything that's happening here. I know that's true, Emily.

EMILY: I certainly will. I certainly will, George...

(Pause. They start sipping the sodas through the straws.)

It certainly seems like being away three years you'd get out of touch with things. Maybe letters from Grover's Corners wouldn't be so interesting after a while. Grover's Corners isn't a very important place when you think of all New Hampshire; but I think it's a very nice town.

(GEORGE begins to think.)

Y'know. Emily, whenever I meet a farmer I ask him if he thinks it's important to go to Agriculture School to be a good farmer.

EMILY: Well, I'll try to make my letters interesting. (pause)

(eagerly)

Yeah, and some of them say that it's even a waste of time. You can get all those things, anyway, out of the pamphlets the government sends out. And Uncle Luke's getting old, - he's about ready for me to start in taking over his farm tomorrow, if I could.

EMILY: (looks at him, happy that he might not leave town)

Why, George -

And, like you say, being gone all that time... in other places and meeting other people... Gosh, if anything like that can happen I don't want to go away. I guess new people aren't any better than old ones. I'll bet they almost never are. Emily... I feel that you're as good a friend as I've got. I don't need to go and meet the people in other towns.

EMILY: My!

(after a pause, very seriously)

Emily, I'm going to make up my mind right now. I won't go. I'll tell Pa about it tonight.

EMILY: (arguing nobly against her inclinations)

But, George, maybe it's very important for you to go and learn all that about - cattle judging and soils and those things...Of course, I don't know.

Emily, I'm glad you spoke to me about that...that fault in my character. What you said was right; but there was one thing wrong with it, and that was when you said that for a year I wasn't noticing people, and...you, for instance. Why, you say you were watching me when I did everything...I was doing the same about you all the time.

(She looks at him wide-eyed, he at her.)

Why, sure, - I always thought about you as one of the chief people I thought about. I always made sure where you were sitting on the bleachers, and who you were with, and for three days now I've been trying to walk home with you; but something's always got in the way. Yesterday I was standing over against the wall waiting for you, and you walked home with Miss Corcoran.

EMILY: Why, George, I don't see why you have to decide right now. It's a whole year away.

Listen, Emily, I'm going to tell you why I'm not going to Agriculture School. I think that once you've found a person who you're very fond of...I mean a person who's very fond of you, too, and likes you enough to be interested in your character...Well, I think that's just as important as college is, and even more so. That's what I think.

EMILY: George!...Life's awful funny! How could I have known that? Why, I thought -

Emily.

EMILY: (quietly)

I think it's awfully important, too.

(pause)

Emily, if I do improve and make a big change...would you be...I mean: could you be...

EMILY: Y-yes, George.

(pause)

So I guess this is an important talk we've been having.

EMILY: I...I am now; I always have been.

(takes a deep breath and straightens his back) Wait just a minute and I'll walk you home.

(Both rise.)

(With mounting alarm, he digs into his pockets for the money.)

(George, deeply embarrassed, but direct, says to him:)

Ms. Morgan, I'll have to go home and get the money to pay you for this. It'll only take me a minute.

EMILY: Yes...yes.

Yes, but I had reasons, Ms. Morgan. - Look, here's my gold watch to keep until I come back with the money.

STAGE MANAGER: (pretending to be affronted)

What's that? George Gibbs, do you mean to tell me - !

I'll be back in five minutes.

STAGE MANAGER: That's all right. Keep your watch. I'll trust you.

(taking up the books from the counter)

I'm ready.

Ex DL

EMILY: Yes, thank you, Mr. Morgan. It was nothing.

(GEORGE starts to come down through the audience.)

MRS. WEBB: I went into it blind as a bat myself. The whole world's wrong, that's what's the matter. There they come.