_] Hi, dad! [_Gestures to_
LAURA.] Meet the wife. She got the job. You paid for it. [_Silence.
Gestures to_ MARTIN.] Meet Martin. He's a god-damned Communist. But
I like him.
BISHOP. My son, you have been drinking.
KEN. Drinking? [_Laughs--to_ MARTIN.] He thinks I have been
drinking. [_To_ TIPPY.] Hi! Good old Tippy. Washes dogs.--Kept
dogs. Kept women. Kept men.
TIPPY. [_Taking him by the arm._] Come on, Ken. Come out in the
kitchen and have some coffee.
KEN. I don't want coffee. Makes you 'member what you got drunk to
forget.
TIPPY. All right, then. I'll give you some more whiskey.
BISHOP. [_In horror._] I forbid. Please, no more liquor.
KEN. That's right. No more liquor. Might forget too much.
TIPPY. Then come in and go to sleep and forget everything.
KEN. [_Shaking him off._] I don't want to forget. I want to
explain. [_Looking around at each._] Dad--Laura---Tippy--Martin.
Whole god-damn Class of '29. Class of '29.... Six years. Hi,
Martin, member the speeches? 'Member the Bac-ca-laurit address?
[_Struts and gestures._] Young men of the Class of '29. [_Gestures
left._] This is your god-damn old alma mater. [_Gestures right._]
And out there's the goddamn old world. [_Gestures left._] In there
you studied four years like sons-o'-guns, stuffing your empty heads
full of useless knowledge. [_Gestures right._] So you could go out
there and get a job.
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