AMANDA: —Oh.

JIM: They do what they’re told to do and at the end of each day they’re given some oats to feed on. Enough to provide the energy for tomorrow.

AMANDA: Mr. Delaney, you surprise me a little.

JIM: Yeah?— Why?

AMANDA: A statement like that—I mean, so—analyzing! But go on! What’s number two?

JIM: Type number two is the drivers! The managers of the workhorses, and owners of them. They portion out the oats and lock up the stable door when the work day is over—open it in the morning. [Grins.] I’ve got this all figured out. But then there is type number three.

AMANDA: Which type is that?

JIM: The Dreamy Type.

AMANDA: My children?

JIM: —Shakespeare—like him, for instance! He doesn’t fit into either classification. He can’t work and he wouldn’t drive.

AMANDA: Can’t work?

JIM: Speaking—figuratively.

AMANDA: —Oh . . .

JIM: There’s quite a number like him, won’t drive and can’t be driven, a monkey wrench in the works.

AMANDA: Oh, how awful!

JIM: But don’t you see, Mrs. Wingfield, if the works aren’t good, then a monkey wrench in them is!

AMANDA: No, I don’t see at all, I think it is awful, to fit into such a worthless classification!

TOM: So I’m a monkey wrench! [He grins.] I’m glad to know I’ve got a definition!

AMANDA [clapping a hand to her forehead]: Oh, my goodness, a monkey wrench for a son! Mr. Delaney, have some more potatoes.

JIM: No, thank you, Ma’am.

AMANDA: What does your father do, Jim?

JIM: He has a retail shoe store in Wyoming.

AMANDA: Shoes! A commodity always in demand! And some day you’ll take over, I suppose?

JIM: My heart is set on radio engineering. I feel there’s a great day coming for television. It will be a field where the dreamy types and the dissatisfied workhorses can flash to the world original pictures of things, and make great changes.

AMANDA: But won’t these “drivers” you speak of flash the pictures?

JIM: Not if we muscle in first, the dreamers and I.

AMANDA: According to what you say, you’re not the dreamy type nor exactly the ordinary workhorse either.

JIM: That’s right, Mrs. Wingfield.

AMANDA: Just what are you then?

JIM [grinning]: A combination, the beginning of an experiment— dreams plus action, which is the next generation!

AMANDA: —Oh! [She smiles uncertainly.] That sounds very exciting.

JIM: It is, I think. “All the world is waiting for the sunrise!”

[The chandelier flickers and dims out.]

AMANDA: Where was Moses when the lights went out! Do you know the answer to that one, Mr. Delaney?

JIM: No. What is the answer?

AMANDA: In the dark! [Jim laughs appreciatively.] [Amanda gets up.] How lucky we have these candles on the table.

JIM: Here’s a match. [Lights one of the candelabras.]

AMANDA: Everybody just sit still, I’ll take a look at the fuse-box. Can you tell a burnt-out fuse when you see one, Mr. Delaney?

JIM [following her]: Uh-huh.