The BOYS start down the ladder, BARNABY first.

Have you got any questions you want to ask before I go?

CORNELIUS:

Mr. Vandergelder—er—Mr. Vandergelder, does the chief clerk get one evening off every week?

VANDERGELDER:

So that’s the way you begin being chief clerk, is it? When I was your age I got up at five; I didn’t close the shop until ten at night, and then I put in a good hour at the account books. The world’s going to pieces. You elegant ladies lie in bed until six and at nine o’clock at night you rush to close the door so fast the line of customers bark their noses. No, sir—you’ll attend to the store as usual, and on Friday and Saturday nights you’ll remain open until ten—now hear what I say! This is the first time I’ve been away from the store overnight. When I come back I want to hear that you’ve run the place perfectly in my absence. If I hear of any foolishness, I’ll discharge you. An evening free! Do you suppose that I had evenings free?

At the top of his complacency.

If I’d had evenings free I wouldn’t be what I am now!

He marches out, right.

BARNABY:

Watching him go.

The horses nearly ran away when they saw him. What’s the matter, Cornelius?

CORNELIUS:

Sits in dejected thought.

Chief clerk! Promoted from chief clerk to chief clerk.

BARNABY:

Don’t you like it?

CORNELIUS:

Chief clerk!—and if I’m good, in ten years I’ll be promoted to chief clerk again. Thirty-three years old and I still don’t get an evening free? When am I going to begin to live?

BARNABY:

Well—ah . . . you can begin to live on Sundays, Cornelius.

CORNELIUS:

That’s not living. Twice to church, and old Wolf-trap’s eyes on the back of my head the whole time. And as for holidays! What did we do last Christmas? All those canned tomatoes went bad and exploded. We had to clean up the mess all afternoon. Was that living?

BARNABY:

Holding his nose at the memory of the bad smell.

No!!!

CORNELIUS:

Rising with sudden resolution.

Barnaby, how much money have you got—where you can get at it?

BARNABY:

Oh—three dollars. Why, Cornelius?

CORNELIUS:

You and I are going to New York.

BARNABY:

Cornelius!!! We can’t! Close the store?

CORNELIUS:

Some more rotten-tomato cans are going to explode.

BARNABY:

Holy cabooses! How do you know?

CORNELIUS:

I know they’re rotten. All you have to do is to light a match under them. They’ll make such a smell that customers can’t come into the place for twenty-four hours. That’ll get us an evening free. We’re going to New York too, Barnaby, we’re going to live! I’m going to have enough adventures to last me until I’m partner. So go and get your Sunday clothes on.

BARNABY:

Wha-a-a-t?

CORNELIUS:

Yes, I mean it. We’re going to have a good meal; and we’re going to be in danger; and we’re going to get almost arrested; and we’re going to spend all our money.