27 Wagons Full of Cotton and Other Plays by Tennessee Williams

y’know, in one of them chairs with a ‘lectric motor on it. Goes chug-chug-chuggin’ along th’ road with th’ butt of a cigar in his mouth. Well, suh, yestuddy in Blue Mountain, as I go out the Elks’ Club door I pass him comin’ in, bein’ helped by th’ nigguh— “Hello! Hiyuh, Gus!” That was at six-fifteen. Just half an hour later Carter Bowman stepped inside the hotel lobby where I was packin’ up my sample cases an’ give me the information that ole Gus Hamma had just now burnt himself to death in the Elks’ Club lounge!
    H ARPER: ( involuntarily grinning )What uh yuh talkin’ about?
    M R. C HARLIE: Yes, suh, the ole war-horse had fallen asleep with that nickel cigar in his mouth—set his clothes on fire—and burnt himself right up like a piece of paper!
    H ARPER: I don’t believe yuh!
    M R. C HARLIE: Now, why on earth would I be lyin’ to yuh about a thing like that? He burnt himself right up like a piece of paper!
    H ARPER: Well, ain’t that a bitch of a way for a man to go?
    M R. C HARLIE: One way— another way—! ( gravely )Maybe you don’t know it—but all of us ole-timers, Bob, are disappearin’ fast! We all gotta quit th’ road one time or another. Me, I reckon I’m pretty nearly the last of th’ Delta drummers!

    H ARPER: ( restively squirming and glancing at his watch )The last—of th’ Delta drummers! How long you been on th’ road?
    M R. C HARLIE: Fawty-six yeahs in Mahch!
    H ARPER: I don’t believe yuh.
    M R. C HARLIE: Why would I tell you a lie about something like that? No, suh, I want you t’ know— I want you t’ know—Hmmm. . . . I lost a mighty good customer this week.
    H ARPER: ( with total disinterest, adjusting the crotch of his trousers )How’s that, Charlie?
    M R. C HARLIE: ( grimly )Ole Ben Summers—Friar’s Point, Mississippi . . . Fell over dead like a bolt of lightning had struck him just as he went to pour himself a drink at the Cotton Planters’ Cotillion!
    H ARPER: Ain’t that terrible, though! What was the trouble?
    M R. C HARLIE: Mortality, that was the trouble! Some people think that millions now living are never going to die. I don’t think that—I think it’s a misapprehension not borne out by the facts! We go like flies when we come to the end of the summer . . . And who is going to prevent it? ( He becomes depressed. )Who—is going—to prevent it! ( He nods gravely. )The road is changed. The shoe industry is changed. These times are—revolution! ( He rises and moves to the window. )I don’t like the way that it looks. You can take it from me—the world that I used to know—the world that this boy’s father used t’ know—the world we belonged to, us old time war-horses!—is slipping and sliding away from under our shoes. Who is going to prevent it? The ALL LEATHER slogan don’t sell shoes any more. The stuff that a shoe’s made of is not what’s going to sell it any more! No! STYLE! SMARTNESS! APPEARANCE! That’s what counts with the modern shoe-purchaser, Bob! But try an’ tell your style department that. Why, I remember the time when all I had to do was lay out my samples down there in thelobby. Open up my order-book an’ write out orders until my fingers ached! A sales- talkwas not necessary. A store was a place where people sold merchandise and to sell merchandise the retail-dealer had to obtain it from the wholesale manufacturer, Bob! Where they get merchandise now I do not pretend to know. But it don’t look like they buy it from wholesale dealers! Out of the air—I guess it materializes! Or maybe stores don’t sell stuff any more! Maybe I’m living in a world of illusion! I recognize that possibility, too!
    H ARPER: ( casually, removing the comic paper from his pocket )Yep—yep. You must have witnessed some changes.
    M R. C HARLIE: Changes? A mild expression. Young man—I have witnessed—a REVOLUTION! ( Harper has opened his comic paper but Mr. Charlie doesn’t notice, for now his peroration is really