Free The Man Who Had All the Luck by Arthur Miller Page A

Burley for the ball game. You heard about my brother, didn’t you?
    DIBBLE: J.B. said somethin’ about him pitchin’ against that colored team. Say, if he can knock them boys over he really belongs in the Big Leagues.
    DAVID: I guess after today’s game, Amos Beeves will be playin’ for the Detroit Tigers.
    DIBBLE: Well, say, they really took him, eh?
    DAVID: Just about. A Tiger scout’s goin’ to be in the grand-stand today.
    DIBBLE: Well, say, it’s about time.
    DAVID: Yep, things even up, I guess in the long run. Why don’t you drop around tonight. Havin’ a big barbecue after the game.
    Enter HESTER from the dining room.
    DIBBLE: Thanks, I’d like to but I got to get back and see my mink get fed on time and proper.
    HESTER: David just never stops talkin’ about mink. [ Sits .] Have you still got that tiny one with the white spot on his head?
    DAVID [ seeing HESTER ’s interest kindles a happy liveliness in him ]: Oh, that one’s probably been in and out of a dozen New York night clubs by this time. [ They laugh .]
    HESTER [ disturbed—to DIBBLE]: Oh, you didn’t kill her?
    DAVID [ to GUS and HESTER]: That’s the way you get about mink, they’re like people, little nervous people.
    DIBBLE: I call them my little bankers myself. Pour a dollar’s worth of feed down their gullets and they’ll return you forty percent; best little bankers in the world.
    DAVID: Except when they fall, Mr. Dibble, except when they fall.
    DIBBLE: Mink never fall!
    DAVID: Oh, now, Mr. Dibble . . .
    DIBBLE: They don’t! It’s their keepers fall down on them. When a feller goes broke tryin’ to raise mink it’s mainly because he’s a careless man. From everything I’ve seen, David, you ain’t that kind. You got a farm here clean as a hospital and mink needs a clean place. You’re the first and only man I thought of when I decided to sell off some of my breeders when my doctor told me to ease up.
    DAVID: I been askin’ around lately, and everybody I talked to . . .
    DIBBLE [ to GUS too ]: I’m glad you made the inquiries. It shows you’re a careful man. And now I’ll tell you my answer. Easiest thing in the world is to kill a mink. Mink’ll die of a cold draught; they’ll die of heart failure; indigestion can kill them, a cut lip, a bad tooth or sex trouble. And worse than that, the mink is a temperamental old woman. I wear an old brown canvas coat when I work around them. If I change that coat it might start them to eating their young. A big loud noise like thunder, or a heavy hailstorm comes and the mother’s liable to pick up the litter, put ’em out in the open part of the cage, and then she’ll go back into the nest box and close her eyes. As though they’re out of danger if they’re out of her sight. And when the storm’s over you might have six or eight kits drowned to death out there. I’ve seen mink murder each other, I’ve seen them eat themselves to death and starve themselves to death, and I’ve seen them die of just plain worry. But! Not on my ranch! I’ll show my records to anybody.
    DAVID [ to GUS]: There’s a business, boy!
    GUS: A business! That’s a slot machine. What do you need with mink?
    DAVID: Oh, there’s a kick in it, Gus. When you send a load of skins to New York you know you did something, you . . .
    GUS: Why, you didn’t do something? [ Indicates right. ] A great big shop you built up, a tractor station, how nice you made this farm . . . ?
    DAVID [ not too intensely; he enjoys this talk ]: Yeh, but is a thing really yours because your name is on it? Don’t you have to feel you’re smart enough, or strong enough, or something enough to have won it before it’s really yours? You can’t bluff a mink into staying alive. [ Turns to DIBBLE.] I tell you, Mr. Dibble . . .
    DIBBLE: Take your time. Think about it . . .
    DAVID: Let