ALCHEMIST. There's laws in England against the likes of me. SIR ARTHUR. Laws? ALCHEMIST. Any time since the days of Edward the Confessor. SIR ARTHUR. But you will tell me the words. that you make of him. And I wish I had never told you, and I wish I had never come. SIR ARTHUR. Never mind that now. Let's get on with the business. ALCHEMIST. Well, Master; then there be many spirits. There's the ALCHEMIST. Aye. But we must Spirit of Death, the Spirit of Drought, proceed softly. the Spirit of Fever. SIR ARTHUR. All is quiet. We may start now. ALCHEMIST. You have another door. SIR ARTHUR. Oh, no one ever comes that way. ALCHEMIST. It is better locked. SIR ARTHUR. Perhaps it is. (He locks it.) Now. ALCHEMIST. The powder, then, is placed upon the floor in a ring, wide enough to contain two feet, and two and a half times as wide should you dare to call up Eblis. SIR ARTHUR. No, no. I shall not call up Eblis. SIR ARTHUR (now preparing the ring). No, no. I'll have some jolly spirit. ALCHEMIST. Oh, Master, call up the Spirit of Death, the Spirit of Fever, even the Spirit of Terror, but not the Spirit of Laughter. SIR ARTHUR. The Spirit of Laughter? Why not? I like the sound of him. We'll have the Spirit of Laughter. ALCHEMIST. Oh, Master, not that spirit. SIR ARTHUR. Why not? ALCHEMIST. Why, Master, because all these spirits, they are all at enmity with man, and are overfull of ingenuity ALCHEMIST. That is something, it always was so. And they sit for Master. That is something. That is one thing to be thankful for in all this bad business. I could n't have borne it, Master. His mouth alone; I could n't have borne to look at it. SIR ARTHUR. No, no. I do not wish to see Eblis. ALCHEMIST. I could n't have borne to see him. SIR ARTHUR. You shan't see him. Tell me the words. ALCHEMIST. Well, Master, you put the powder in a ring, wide enough to hold common feet, scarce larger than ours. And then, Master, if you must, you light it. If you must, Master, if you must. And it smoulders and the smoke goes away to the left and the right, and goes round the ring. And just as the two smokes meet, just then you say... (He whispers.) And you name the spirit that you would call up. And he must come. And he must grant one wish, the first demand ages planning how to prevail against man. For ages, Master. You would hardly believe it. And when they have formed a plan they won't rest until they have tried it; you would not credit their malice. And most of all are they like this, most of all when they have been compelled to grant a wish. They are like it then most of all. SIR ARTHUR. Then we won't have the Spirit of Death. ALCHEMIST. Oh, Master, the Spirit of Laughter is the worst of all but one. His contrivances are beyond the wit of all the lesser spirits. You are not making the circle too wide, Master? SIR ARTHUR. No, no. We'll only have the Spirit of Laughter. ALCHEMIST. Be warned, Master, and have none of him. SIR ARTHUR. Come, tell me his name. ALCHEMIST. Be warned, Master. SIR ARTHUR. I've paid you well for this. ALCHEMIST. Yes, Master, but be sheets and pencil and turns to the heap). warned. SIR ARTHUR. His name, then. ALCHEMIST. His name. Oh, Master, call never upon this spirit. His name is Hahalaba. SIR ARTHUR. So that's his name. The spell again. (SIR ARTHUR now holds a matchbox. ALCHEMIST whispers in his ear. SIR ARTHUR ignites the powder and mutters the spell, ending with the name HAHALABA. HAHALABA steps through a curtain and stands in the ring, an athletic spirit, with small cloak slung over dark nude breast.) HAHALABA. What is your will of me? ALCHEMIST. Oh, Master, nothing that he can turn to his advantage. SIR ARTHUR. It shall be nothing. I have thought of all. ALCHEMIST. Only a trifle, Master. Something too small for his contriv ances, or SIR ARTHUR. It is only a trifle. HAHALABA. What is your will of me? SIR ARTHUR. Only a trifle. I wish to see a file of the Times. HAHALABA. For what year? SIR ARTHUR. For the year 1927! HAHALABA (pulling cloth from table and revealing a file of one year of the 'Times'). It is there. SIR ARTHUR. Ha! Oh, Master, I'm glad you asked for a little thing. It's a mercy, Master, a mercy. SIR ARTHUR. A little thing, indeed! ALCHEMIST. Aye, Master. For had you asked a great thing of such as him, he would have triumphed surely. SIR ARTHUR. A little thing! ALCHEMIST. Aye, Master, I know the ways of them. SIR ARTHUR. A little thing be damned. I shall make millions on this millions. ALCHEMIST. Oh, Master, beware Hahalaba. Beware the Spirit of Laughter. SIR ARTHUR. I tell you I shall make millions. This alone, for instance, this alone: December 31, 1927. I see he's got December on the top the way the newspaper people keep it they put the fresh paper on top of the one of the day before all the year round, and keep the lot like this. This number alone is worth all the money I've got, or you either. Patangas, 104. You go down to the City and buy Patangas - but you don't understand. ALCHEMIST. Master, I go to no city guided by Hahalaba. SIR ARTHUR. He's got nothing to do with it. He's gone. But I read1 in the Times that Patangas are 104. (Jots down a word on half sheet, saying aloud, 'Patangas.") I shall soon know HAHALABA. Within an hour of mid- if this file is genuine by waiting a night it will vanish. few days and checking these. (He SIR ARTHUR. Oh. We have not long, lays his hand on the edges at bottom then. HAHALABA. It has far to go, and must be there by dawn. SIR ARTHUR. Where? HAHALABA. In the deeps of time. (Exit.) SIR ARTHUR. Where has he gone? of heap.) ALCHEMIST. Oh, it is genuine. He may not lie. But he is frivolous and cunning. I know Hahalaba. SIR ARTHUR. If this is genuine (reads a line or two), as it evidently is, I shall make millions. There we are again, there we are again. Pocahontas, 37. Who'd have thought it? I 1 Present tense. have n't paid you enough, old fellow. understand how to use. Wait a ALCHEMIST. Master, I go not to that city. SIR ARTHUR. No, it's not the City. Wait a moment. Ah, here we have it. The Derby. Aurelian won. You back Aurelian for the Derby. (Writes on a half sheet and gives it to ALCHEMIST.) There. Aurelian for the Derby. ALCHEMIST. Master, I make no wager, lest in my hour of gain Hahalaba mock me. (He puts paper down on a table.) And, Master SIR ARTHUR. Well, never mind now. ALCHEMIST. No, Master, I have no There's only a few more minutes, and uses for it. I can't waste them talking. They're worth a million a minute. SIR ARTHUR. As you like. (Lower down the file) And here again. Tangerines at 80. Hullo! Here's old Perrot dead. He should have kept himself fit - he was no older than me. If he'd have played golf - Well, well. October 27. Fancy that. (Takes another paper.) Hullo, hullo. (Makes brief note.) I'll play hell with the Stock Exchange. ALCHEMIST. Master. SIR ARTHUR. Ha, ha! Lord! Bolivian United. Well, I never. (Makes note.) ALCHEMIST. Master. SIR ARTHUR. And Ecuador Guaranteed. Millions! ALCHEMIST. Master. SIR ARTHUR. Well. ALCHEMIST. I have given you your desire, and you have paid me well. Our account is settled. May I go hence? ALCHEMIST. As you will, Master. SIR ARTHUR. Well, good-bye then, and thank you very much. (ALCHEMIST tries the door. It is locked.) Ah, the door. Give me a moment and I'll let you out. (He takes key from pocket, but continues reading papers and making notes.) Another of them. Tromkins now. Why can't they keep themselves fit? Mexican Airways Limited! Well, well. (Another note. Hastily turns over papers, making brief notes, till he nears the bottom of the heap.) Yes, yes. Well, that'll be enough. There's millions in it. I'll let you out now. (Walks to door with key in one hand, the last paper in the other.) ALCHEMIST. Thank you, Master, thank you. SIR ARTHUR. And your friend Hahalaba will find it hard to laugh over this deal, for I'm the richest man SIR ARTHUR. Go hence? Yes, if you in England now. like. ALCHEMIST. Thank you, Master; for of all spirits of evil I fear most the Spirit of Laughter. SIR ARTHUR. Yes, you told me that. No one's keeping you. But wait a moment. Wait a moment. There's one thing I'll give you that you'll ALCHEMIST. Not yet, Master. SIR ARTHUR. Well, I soon will be. (Unlocks door.) ALCHEMIST. And, Master. Read no more of these hidden things. It is surely enough. Tempt Hahalaba no further. SIR ARTHUR. I won't. I've read all I want. I've enough knowledge to put against the brain of all the financiers in London. ALCHEMIST. Then read no further, Master. Put it down. SIR ARTHUR. That? Do you know what that is? That is to-day's paper. January 1, 1927- the last of the heap. I shall read to-day's paper before I go to bed. We're in 1927 now. Well, good-bye, and a happy New Year. ALCHEMIST. Farewell, Master. (Exit ALCHEMIST. SIR ARTHUR returns to his chair and settles down to the British habit of reading the day's 'Times.') he rings for SNAGGS. (Enter SNAGGS. Goes to SIR ARTHUR on sofa. All the copies of the 'Times' have vanished.) SNAGGS. Hullo. What's this has happened? (Goes to table and sees SIR ARTHUR's notes on half sheets.) Patangas? Mexican Airways? Nothing to account for it there. (Almost absently he crumples them and throws them in the fire; then turns to the business in hand.) Now what should I do? (A glance toward the sofa. Then he goes to the telephone.) Ah, would you please give me the Times. I don't know the number. Yes, the Times Office, please. Is that the Times? Oh, could I speak to the Editor? . . . Oh, well, perhaps he'd do. But it's important. ... Tell him something sudden. him something sudden. . . . Oh, yes. I'm butler to Sir Arthur Strangways. Mr. Snaggs is my name. . . Well, I thought you'd like to know Sir Arthur has just died. Sudden-like. Yes. (Leaving the phone, he passes the other table on which ALCHEMIST has put down his slip. He picks it up and reads.) Aurelian for the Derby. He's no good. [CURTAIN] SIR ARTHUR. Nothing of interest. Dull, I suppose, after the other. Hullo! What's this? What? What? But it can't be! But this is to-day's paper! But I'm alive! Good God! (With breath coming short he goes to decanter of brandy, pours out, mixes, and drinks. He stands a little steadier, hand to heart now and then.) Bit of a shock, that. Read that kind of thing. Silly Jugginses. Who can have been fool enough to invent a yarn like that? It's to-day's paper and I'm quite well. (But the improvement was only momentary and PUNISHING ONE IN TEN BY JOHN BARKER WAITE SHERWOOD DAVIS was indicted for assault upon Clio Godfrey. He had his trial and was convicted by a jury. Then he appealed to the supreme court because the evidence at the trial showed the girl's name really to have been Cleo Godfrey. Eventually that tribunal announced that Davis had not been properly convicted. In its opinion, 'Clio is the name well known in history as being that of an ancient goddess, while Cleo is a contraction of Cleopatra. These names are entirely different and have no such similarity, as commonly pronounced in this country, as that they may be said to be idem sonans.' There was a fatal variance between the indictment and the proof, therefore, and the court reversed the conviction. This happened in Alabama, in the year nineteen hundred and twenty-six. Lest a too complacent North be tempted to whittle its finger, note also this case from Nebraska. Formal complaint was made against Edward Wagner, charging that he did 'unlawfully and feloniously drive and operate a motor vehicle, to wit a Studebaker automobile, at a greater rate of speed than thirty-five (35) miles per hour, to wit fifty (50) miles per hour, within the city of Falls City,' contrary to statute, because of which excessive speed and negligent driving he severely injured another automobilist. Under this charge, a jury duly convicted Wagner of driving at illegal speed. I The supreme court, however, realized that the crime of exceeding the speed limit must occur on some 'road, meaning public highway, street, or alley.' 'Neither of these words,' said the supreme court, 'appears in the information, nor their equivalent. The alleged acts might have occurred on defendant's own premises, or on premises lawfully possessed by him, or on a private way, so far as reflected by it.' Therefore the conviction was quashed and the case against Wagner dismissed. This ruling too occurred in the year nineteen hundred and twenty-six. In this same year, if one may judge the future by the immediate past, there will be punished less than one out of every ten of those who commit serious crime in the United States. In Alabama's neighboring state of Georgia, there are no figures available for Alabama itself, of those who are actually formally charged with crime only 53 out of 100 will ever be punished at all and 38 out of these 53 will have pleaded guilty. In Missouri, of those persons arrested on warrant and charged with serious crimes only 3 per cent will be acquitted by juries, yet only 32 per cent will be punished. In Chicago there will be 3019 burglaries reported by the police—with no figures as to how many more unreported and there will be just 179 persons punished for burglary. For 270 murders reported, there will be 65 persons penalized, of whom but nine will be |