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Updated: May 16, 2025
Why, I played Lady Macbeth opposite Claude Melrose when he was making thirty dollars a week in Fredericksburg Stock. Did he use my cutting of the banquet scene all those years after he struck Broadway? He did. Did he give credit where credit was due? He did not. Oh, my dear, I could tell you tales! The dirt I've had spun me in my day. Maybe Minnie Dupree never saw Broadway, but dirt!
Silvey followed close at his heels and DuPree lagged in the rear. "Boo-oo!" Sid shouted when they had ascended half the distance. John's pea shooter clattered to the landing. Silvey turned angrily on the miscreant, his face still pale from the fright. "I've a' mind to punch your nose for that! 'S'pose there was really somebody!" At last they reached their goal.
"Why, honey child, Cissie tells it on herself, she never would have had those ducky twins of hers five years ago if she hadn't known there was a Minnie Dupree Infantary. That is our aim, here, you know. To give the child of superior professional parents the most superior environment that money can buy." "How much " "Elaine Bringhouse, daughter of Harold Bringhouse.
"Smarty DuPree hasn't much show when six of the fellows are going to vote for me." Conversation lagged. Miss Martin was nervously alert lest she encounter a friendly greeting from Sid while her escort was with her, and John became absorbed in the affairs of the morrow.
At early dusk of the Friday holiday, he scampered to a hiding place underneath a house porch while Sid DuPree, his face buried in his arms, stood against a tree trunk and counted "Five hundred by five" as rapidly as he could. But as the cry of "Coming" echoed between the closely built houses, John's conscience suddenly robbed him of all the pleasure in the game of "Hide and seek."
Yes, indeedy, dearie, that's a book of testimonials there on that table from my children's parents. I take it you're a professional, dearie?" "Oh yes yes. Concert and vaudeville." "I'm a retired member of the profession myself. A little before your time, bless you, but ask anyone who remembers the Manhattan Stock Company about Minnie Dupree.
Her aunt explained that Louise had gone out of town with her mother for a three-day Christmas visit. "She'll be back, the day after tomorrow," she consoled him. So he left the presents in her charge with instructions to give them to his lady on the very moment of her arrival, and scampered down the carpeted stairway again. Sid DuPree met him in front of his house. John surveyed him warily. "'Lo!"
The easy tears had dried and she shook her head cheerfully. "Give me some apple pie," she began. Thus peace was concluded. When she had drained the last drop of cider from the glass and dropped the pasteboard pie plate on the floor, John kicked it under the seat with his heel and leaned over to her. "Take some more," he urged. "I'm not Sid DuPree."
Camp was years the older of the two, a pudgy man with a florid complexion and nasal twang, and kept the junior member busy answering his questions. Uncle Lance enjoyed the situation, jollying his sister about the elder contractor and quietly inquiring of the red-haired foreman how and where Dupree had picked him up.
His tackle had snarled, and as the throng returned to their own poles, he picked at the tangle of line in the reel while his lower lip trembled piteously. To have landed that Goliath among fishes! What a triumphal procession it would have been a march down the home street with such a captive. How Sid DuPree and the Harrison boys would have stared!
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