[KEN _stands aside_, TED _rises politely, keeping finger in place
in book and looking at drawing briefly._]
TED. [_Indifferently._] It's very nice.
[_He goes back to couch and his book_, KEN _removes drawing and
rolls it up_. TIPPY _finishes pants and cuts off iron_, MARTIN'S
_voice heard in hall, singing._]
MARTIN. Belaya armeya chornee barone
Snova gotovyat nam tsarskee trone
[MARTIN _enters, marching and singing._]
No ot tigee doe bretanskeye Morye
[_Stamps and accents each syllable._]
Anneya krasnaya vsekh seelnaye.
TIPPY. Jesus, Martin, why don't you get Billy Rose to write a new
song for the Red Army?
MARTIN. As soon as Ken learns Krasnaya Armeya I'll teach him the
International.
TIPPY. I can bellyache the Armeya better now than he can.
MARTIN. Damned pity you won't study Russian with us. You have a
natural gift for languages.
TIPPY. The reason Russian is easy for me is because I never learned
the alphabet.
KEN. Boy, what an alphabet!
MARTIN. [_Snapping his fingers._] Da, da, da--ah, be, ve, ge.
TIPPY. [_Picking up book._] Ya, ya, ya,--vas ist das? Das ist ein
buch.
KEN. Da, da, da,--chto etto takoye? Etto kneega.
MARTIN. Fine. Let's go. [_Holds up pencil._] Chto etto takoe?
KEN. Etta karandash.
MARTIN. [_Stands book on table._] Chto?
KEN.
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