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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7576544 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #64607 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/64607) diff --git a/old/64607-0.txt b/old/64607-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index c532c5c..0000000 --- a/old/64607-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8314 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Seeking His Fortune, and Other Dialogues, by -Horatio Alger, Jr. - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and -most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Seeking His Fortune, and Other Dialogues - -Author: Horatio Alger, Jr. - O. Augusta Cheney - -Release Date: February 21, 2021 [eBook #64607] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -Produced by: David Edwards and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at - https://www.pgdp.net - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEEKING HIS FORTUNE, AND OTHER -DIALOGUES *** - - - - - - SEEKING HIS FORTUNE, - AND - OTHER DIALOGUES. - - BY - HORATIO ALGER, JR., - AND - O. AUGUSTA CHENEY. - - LORING, Publisher, - COR. WASHINGTON AND BROMFIELD STREETS, - BOSTON. - - Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by - A. K. LORING, - In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. - - - - - To - - MY FATHER AND MOTHER, - - This Volume - - IS DEDICATED, BY THEIR AFFECTIONATE DAUGHTER, - - O. AUGUSTA CHENEY. - - - - -PREFACE. - - -Nearly all the dialogues in the present collection were originally -contributed to a juvenile magazine in New York. Many of them have been -used at exhibitions in different parts of the country, and met with a -degree of favor which has led to their publication in this more permanent -form. While intended for representation, it is hoped that readers may -find them a source of entertainment. - -It is proper to add that only the first dialogue belongs to me. The -remainder are written by my sister, whose name appears with mine on the -title-page. So far as these are concerned, my part has been merely that -of an editor. - - HORATIO ALGER, JR. - -NEW YORK, May 1, 1875. - - - - -CONTENTS. - - - PAGE - - SEEKING HIS FORTUNE 11 - - ONE WEEK AN EDITOR 27 - - KEEPING GENTEEL BOARDERS 37 - - MRS. SKINFLINT’S BARGAINS 57 - - MRS. GRUNDY’S TYRANNY 67 - - AUNT HANNAH’S VALENTINE 79 - - MR. BLISS’ VISION 95 - - HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS 105 - - BOARDING ON A FARM 115 - - TAMING A WIFE 127 - - JOHN SMITH’S TRIALS 139 - - AUNT RACHEL’S FRIGHT 149 - - THE HYPOCHONDRIAC CURED 161 - - AUNT PATIENCE’S EAR-TRUMPET 169 - - THE GHOSTLY VISITATION 183 - - PRACTICAL HUSBANDRY 193 - - MR. SMITH’S DAY AT HOME 207 - - THE COUNTRY COUSIN 217 - - TAKING POISON 231 - - DEACON ROBINSON’S PRESENT 237 - - MRS. MARDEN’S LESSON 249 - - THE MAGIC MIRROR 257 - - - - -SEEKING HIS FORTUNE. - - -DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. - - DEA. ELNATHAN PETERS, a Farmer. - MRS. ALMIRA PETERS, his Wife. - JONATHAN PETERS, his Son. - THOMAS HAMPTON, a Commission Merchant. - SAMUEL JENKINS, his Clerk. - - - SCENE I.—_An old-fashioned kitchen. MRS. P. is paring apples, - R. DEA. P. nodding over a newspaper, L. JONATHAN, a tall, - countrified-looking specimen, sits moodily, C., with chair - tipped back, and his hands in his pockets._ - -JONATHAN. Well, marm, I’ve made up my mind I shan’t stay in Beanville any -longer. - -MRS. PETERS. Why, Jonathan, how you dew talk! What’s got into you? - -J. I’ve got tired of Beanville, marm, that’s what’s the matter. I aint -goin’ to stay here all my life, raisin’ cabbages, and hoin’ taters. I’m -fit for somethin’ better. - -DEA. PETERS (_rousing from his nap_). What’s the boy talkin’ about, -mother? - -J. I might as well tell you fust as last, dad. I’m goin’ to Bostown. - -MRS. P. Massy sakes! Bostown’s a hundred miles off. What you goin’ there -for? - -J. To make my fortin. - -DEA. P. ’Taint so easy as you think for, Jonathan. You’d a plaguy sight -better stay round here and help me. - -J. I can’t do nothin’ here, dad. I have to work till I get all tuckered -out, just to make a livin’ and can’t never wear anything better than -overalls. Now, if I was in the city, I could wear store clothes all the -time, like that are fellow that boarded up to the tavern last summer. - -MRS. P. I’m afraid, Jonathan, you’re gettin’ proud. You aint no call to -be ashamed of wearin’ overalls. They’re what me and your father always -wear. - -DEA. P. (_slily_). Yes, mother, you _do_ wear the breeches sometimes. - -MRS. P. (_in a deprecating tone_). Now, father, you’d orter be ashamed. -You know I didn’t mean that. (_To_ JONATHAN.) I mean, Jonathan, your -father and me aint ashamed of wearin’ workin’ clothes. I’m afraid you’re -gettin’ proud, and pride’s a deadly sin. - -J. Can’t help it, marm. When that feller passed me in the field last -summer, he turned up his nose at me, and I aint goin’ to stand it. I’m as -good as he is, any day. - -MRS. P. So you be, Jonathan. - -J. And I want, to dress as well. So I’ve made up my mind to go to -Bostown, and go into business there. - -DEA. P. What sort of business? - -J. As to that, I aint partic’lar. Anything that I can make money by. - -DEA. P. Perhaps you’ll lose it. They’re pooty sharp in Bostown, I’ve -heard tell. Most likely you’d get cheated out of all you’ve got. - -MRS. P. Yes, Jonathan, listen to what your dad says; he’s had more -experience than you hev. - -J. He don’t Know much about Bostown, anyway. - -DEA. P. (_complacently_). Yes, Jonathan, I know a good deal about the -city. I’ve been there three times. Fust time was just after me and your -mother was married. - -MRS. P. Thirty-one years ago. - -DEA. P. Yes, Almiry, thirty-one year. Then again, I went down to sell a -yoke of oxen for Squire Peabody. - -J. That time you had your pocket picked, and had to borrow money to git -home. - -DEA. P. (_coughing_). Ahem! yes, I believe it was that time. Then again, -I went seven year ago, and stayed to the Mechanics’ Fair. That are was a -great sight. - -J. Well, dad, I haint never been at all, and I’m goin’,—that’s all. - -MRS. P. You aint nothin’ but a boy, Jonathan. - -J. Aint I, though? I’m twenty-one year old, and taller’n father, and I -weighed myself down to the store, yesterday, and weighed a hundred and -eighty. I should think I was old enough and big enough to be trusted away -from home. - -MRS. P. The city is a wicked place, Jonathan. Who knows but you’d get to -drinkin’ and swearin’? - -J. There aint no danger of that, marm. I tasted some whiskey, the other -day, down to Hiram Johnson’s, and it most turned my stummik. I shan’t -drink anything stronger’n cider. - -DEA. P. That’s right, my son. Cider’s good, for we know what it’s made -of. Apples are healthy, and when a body’s tired, a mug of cider goes to -the right spot. - -MRS. P. (_doubtfully_). Yes, father, but you know Sam Wilson got drunk -on cider one town meetin’ day, and smashed forty panes of glass in the -meetin’-house. - -DEA. P. Wal, wal, he drank more’n was good for him. But, Jonathan, to -come back to your plans, have you thought what you shall do when you get -to the city? - -J. Why, dad, I calc’late there must be plenty of work to be did. I reckon -I should like to tend in a store. - -DEA. P. Lazy business, Jonathan. - -J. That’s what I like it for, dad. I’ve had hard work enough, and I want -to take it easy awhile. Maybe I shall go into business on my own hook, if -I get a good chance. There aint no reason why I shouldn’t get rich as -well as other folks. - -MRS. P. (_hastily_). I hope, Jonathan, you aint goin’ to take that two -hundred and fifty dollars out of the Savings Bank, that yer Aunt Betsey -give you in her will. - -J. Of course I be. How can a feller go into business without capital? - -MRS. P. (_solemnly_). You’ll lose every red cent of it, take my word for -it. - -J. And earn five times as much more, marm; I guess I know how to make -money as well as other folks. - -MRS. P. Deacon, do say somethin’ to git him off this foolish plan. He’ll -fail, sartain, an’ it’ll make his aunt rise from her grave, if he loses -all the money that she earned by knittin’ an’ dryin’ apples. - -DEA. P. (_reflectively_). I don’t know, Almiry, but the boy might as well -try his luck, seein’ he’s sot on it. Perhaps he may do well, arter all. - -J. (_delightedly_). That’s the talk, dad. - -MRS. P. Well, I dunno. It seems to me mighty resky. However, if he must -go, he’ll have to wait till I’ve knit him some winter stockings. He’s -most out. - -J. I kin buy some in Bostown, marm. They’ve got plenty there. - -MRS. P. (_contemptuously_). And what are they worth I should like to -know? Boughten stockin’s won’t stand any wear at all. Then, there’s your -shirts; you aint got but three. - -J. Well, there’s enuff; I kin wear one a week, an’ three’s enough to -shift with. - -DEA. P. You’ll have to be more partic’lar in the city. I’ve heard that -some folks in the city wear as many as three clean shirts in a week. - -MRS. P. They must be awful dirty to need changin’ so often. But I guess, -Jonathan, you’d better have one more made. - -J. Well, you kin send the shirt and the stockin’s to me by express. I’ve -made up my mind to go next week. - -MRS. P. An’ what’ll Mary Jane Parker say to that? - -J. I don’t care. - -MRS. P. I thought you were sweet on her only a little while ago. - -J. Wal, she aint anything but a country gal. Maybe I shall find a -good-lookin’ city gal that’s got the tin. - -MRS. P. O Jonathan, I’m afeard you’re gittin’ vain. “Vanity of vanity! -All is vanity!” says the Scripters. Mary Jane would make you a real -capable wife. She can make butter an’ cheese equal to any gal in -Beanville, an’ she made fifteen dollars, last summer, sellin’ eggs. - -J. (_contemptuously_). What’s fifteen dollars? - -MRS. P. The time may come when you’ll be glad to git fifteen dollars. - -J. Now, marm, don’t go to discouragin’ a feller; I’m bound to be rich, -and when I’ve made money enuff, I’m going to buy you a silk gownd. - -MRS. P. Thank you, Jonathan; I allus thought I should like a new silk -gownd. I aint had a new one for twenty year. - -J. Well, marm, you shall have it jist as soon as I’ve made my pile. - -MRS. P. Pile of what, for the land’s sake? - -J. Made my fortin, I mean. And I’ll buy father a new Sunday go-to-meeting -coat. - -DEA. P. I guess you’ll want your money for other things, Jonathan. Don’t -count your chickens before they’re hatched. - -J. Can I have the horse to-morrow, dad? - -DEA. P. What for? - -J. I’m goin’ over to the bank to get my money. - -DEA. P. Yes, I reckon so. - -MRS. P. You’d better go with him, father. He might git robbed on the way -home. I shan’t feel safe with such a lot of money in the house. - -J. Well, ’twon’t be in the house long. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_JONATHAN, in a blue suit with brass buttons, stands - R. C., waiting for the stage. Beside him is a blue chest - containing his worldly effects. DEACON and MRS. PETERS stand - near the door, R._ - -J. (_looking toward L._). I hear the stage, marm. - -MRS. P. Yes, it’s just comin’ over the hill. Hadn’t you better change -your mind, Jonathan, and stay to hum, arter all? - -J. Not by a jug-full. No, marm, the dice is cast, and I’m bound to be -somebody. No more diggin’ taters for me. - -DEA. P. Well, Jonathan, I wish you all success, but I kinder have my -misgivin’s. - -MRS. P. Is the money safe, Jonathan? - -J. Yes, marm, I’ve got it in my trowsers’ pocket. - -MRS. P. Hadn’t you better leave part of it to hum? You might have your -pockets picked, you know. - -J. They won’t catch this child so easy. Don’t you be alarmed. - -MRS. P. I declare I’ve forgotten them doughnuts. - -DEA. P. (_looking toward L._). Stage is just at the corner. - -MRS. P. They’ll wait a minute. - -J. (_starting towards L._). Can’t wait, marm. I’ll buy some dinner at the -tavern. - -MRS. P. It’ll be wastin’ your money. - -DEA. P. Never mind. - -J. (_going slowly toward L._). Good-by. - -DEA. P. AND MRS. P. Good-by. Be sure and write. - -J. I’ll write just as soon as I get to the city. - - (_Exit L._) - -MRS. P. (_with her apron to her eyes_). It’s an awful resk, Deacon, -Jonathan’s going away from home. - -DEA. P. Cheer up, mother. He’s a man grown. He may make a fortune, after -all. - - (_Exeunt, R._) - -(_JONATHAN returns L. for his chest._) - -J. (_solus_). Good-by to Beanville. When I come back, I’ll make the folks -stare. Mary Jane’ll have to look up another feller. I’m goin’ to look -higher. - - (_Exit L._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_A small room in the fifth story of a Boston hotel. - JONATHAN, C., sits poring over the advertising columns of the - Boston Herald._ - -J. I had no idee there was so many houses in the world. Bostown’s a -big place, to be sure. But I don’t see where they pastur’ all their -cows. I didn’t see none in that big lot in front of the State House. -I guess folks must have a power of money to live in such fine houses. -The State House must have cost twice as much as our meetin’-house, and -p’r’aps more. Anyway I’m bound to see if I can’t make my fortin here. -The landlord told me I might find a chance for business in this paper. -I guess I’ll look over it, and see what I can find. (_Reads the paper -intently for a few minutes._) Why, here’s the very thing! Let me spell it -out again. (_Reads aloud._) - -“TWO THOUSAND DOLLARS A YEAR! Wanted, a young man with a small capital, -to engage in a lucrative business, which is sure to pay him at least two -thousand dollars a year. Call at once on Samuel Jenkins, 15 S—— street.” - -J. (_jumping to his feet in excitement_). Where’s my hat? I say that’s an -all-fired good chance! Two thousand dollars a year! Why, it takes away my -breath, thinkin’ of it. Here I’ve been workin’ for dad for ten dollars -a month, and that aint but a hundred and twenty dollars a year. Our -minister don’t get but three hundred dollars and his house-rent. Guess -he’ll hev to look up to me ef I git this chance. I must go right off, or -some other feller’ll be ahead of me. - - (_Puts on hat, and exit L. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE IV.—_A small office. SAMUEL JENKINS sits R., in a - lounging attitude, smoking a cigar. A knock is heard L. He - jumps up hastily, and admits JONATHAN._ - -J. (_bashfully_). Be you Mr. Jenkins? - -SAM. (_bowing_). I am, at your service. - -J. I seen the advertisement what you writ in the papers, about wanting a -partner,— - -S. J. With a small capital? - -J. Yes, with a small capital, and I thought I’d call and see if you’d -take me. - -S. J. (_aside_). The fellow’s just from the country. I must impress him a -little. I wonder how much money he’s got. (_Aloud._) Well, as to that, I -can’t say, positively. I must ask you a few questions. Have you lived in -the city long? - -J. Wal, no, I live to Beanville, when I’m ter hum. - -S. J. (_reflectively_). Beanville! I don’t think I ever heard of the -place. - -J. Sho! I thought everybody’d heard of Beanville. - -S. J. Then I suppose you have never been in business. - -J. (_hesitatingly_). Wall, no, not exactly; but I tended in our store two -days when the other feller was gone. - -S. J. That is nothing;—but perhaps you could learn. - -J. (_eagerly_). Oh, yes, I kin learn pooty quick, ef you’ll only try me. - -S. J. Then about the capital. How much money have you got? - -J. I hed two hundred and fifty dollars when I left hum, but I guess -I’ll have to leave some to pay my board. I kin invest two hundred and -twenty-five dollars. - -S. J. (_aside_). That isn’t as much as I hoped, but I’m dead broke, and -that’ll do to till I take in another flat. - -J. (_anxiously_). Will that do? - -S. J. Why, it isn’t as much as I expected; considering the large income -which you will receive, it is very small. - -J. I will come for less than two thousand, if you’ll only take me. - -S. J. No, I will pay what I guaranteed. I suppose you have references. - -J. I’ll write to our minister to send me a character. - -S. J. Never mind. I have a knack at reading faces, and I can tell by -yours that you are honest and industrious. - -J. (_gratified_). Then you will take me? - -S. J. Have you got the money with you? - -J. Yes; shall I pay it now? - -S. J. You might as well, and the partnership shall begin at once. - -J. (_drawing out his pocket-book, and counting out some bills_). Two -hundred, two hundred and ten, two hundred and twenty-five. I guess you’ll -find it right. - -S. J. (_looking over the bills carelessly_). Yes, quite correct. Stay, I -will give you a receipt. What is your name? (_Writes._) - -J. Jonathan Peters. - -S. J. (_passes him receipt_). Mine is Jenkins. Success to the firm of -Jenkins and Peters. I’ll see about a sign. - -J. (_surprised_). Do you do it here? I don’t see nothin’ to sell. - -S. J. Oh, it’s a commission business. I’ll attend to that, and you’ll do -the writing. I suppose you can write a good hand. - -J. Oh, yes, I’ve been to writin’ school two winters. I can’t write very -fast. - -S. J. Never mind, you’ll learn. Practice makes perfect. I think I’ll have -you begin to-day. Do you see that book? (_Points to an old ledger on the -desk._) - -J. Yes. - -S. J. Well, there’s a blank book. I want you to copy out of the ledger -into the book, beginning at the first page. - -J. All right. I kin do it. - -S. J. Be very particular not to make any mistakes. - -J. I’ll do my best. - -S. J. (_taking his hat_). I’ve got to go round to the bank to deposit -this money, and will be right back. See how much you can copy while I am -gone. - -J. Yes, I’ll work faithful. - - (_Exit S. J., L._) - -J. (_solus_). Well, aint that a streak of luck! Here I am, just come to -the city, and earnin’ a salary of two thousand dollars a year. Won’t it -make dad stare? I guess marm’ll be glad I come now. Wonder what Mary -Jane’ll say? She’ll be mighty sorry I’ve gone and left her. But she aint -fit for the wife of a merchant like me! I must write to dad to-night. I -would now, only my time belongs to the firm. Two thousand dollars a year! -Why, that’s six dollars a day, and more, almost as much a day as I used -to git in a month. Guess I’ll buy a watch after I git my first month’s -pay. Holloa, what’s that? - - (_Enter THOMAS HEMPTON, R._) - -H. (_looking at JONATHAN with surprise_). What are you doing here? - -J. (_with dignity_). Tendin’ to business. - -H. And how do you happen to be attending to business in my office? - -J. Look here, mister, I guess you have made a little mistake. This aint -your office. It’s mine and Jenkins’. - -H. (_sarcastically_). Indeed! And I suppose that is your ledger that you -have before you? - -J. Of course it is. - -H. Well, you’re a mighty cool customer, though you look rather green than -otherwise. Perhaps you can tell me who this Jenkins is. - -J. He’s the boss of this concern. That is, him and me are the two bosses. - -H. Well, you’re about right there. You look more like bossies than -anything else. If you ever lived in the country, as I should judge from -your appearance you had, you will know what that means. - -J. (_advancing in a threatening manner, and brandishing a ruler_). I say, -stranger, quit that. None of your sarse, or I’ll break yer head. - -H. (_with dignity_). Enough of this, young man. Put down that ruler. Now, -tell me, have you given this man, Jenkins, any money? - -J. Yes; two hundred and twenty-five dollars, and he’s took me into -partnership. - -H. When did you see him last? - -J. He went out an hour ago. - -H. You’ll never see him, I’m afraid, or your money either. - -J. (_terrified_). What’s that, stranger? - -H. In short, he’s swindled you. Jenkins is not his real name. He is a -clerk of mine, of whom, for some time, I have had suspicions. He took -advantage of a three days’ absence of mine in New York, to put an -advertisement in the paper, which has taken you in. He’s got your money, -and that will be the last we shall see of him, unless the police pick him -up. - -J. (_crying_). He’s carried off all my money. Boo! hoo! and I aint -earnin’ two thousand dollars a year after all. Aunt Betsey’s money gone. -Boo! hoo! What’ll marm say? - -H. I’m afraid your money’s gone past recovery, but if you want to stay -in the city, there’s a friend of mine wants a good, strong fellow in a -grocery store. He will give you two dollars a day. - -J. (_drying his tears_). Well, that’s pooty good. It’s a good deal more’n -I kin make in the country. I’ll take it. (_Enter boy, R., with a note._) - -H. (_opening it hastily_). Young man, here is good news. The police, -having some suspicions of Jenkins, arrested him as he was on the point -of leaving the city for New York, and he is now in custody. You will -probably recover your money. - -J. (_executing a double shuffle in his delight_). O crackey! my money -safe. Now I shan’t be ashamed to write home. You won’t forget about that -grocery place? - -H. No, I will see my friend to-day, and I have no doubt he will take you. -By the way, where are you boarding? - -J. At the Blank House. - -H. The board is pretty high there. - -J. My room is high, anyway, in the fifth story but they charge me only -three dollars a week. - -H. Three dollars a day, you should say. - -J. By gracious, you don’t mean it! - -H. Certainly; some of the hotels charge four and five. - -J. How do they expect a feller can eat three dollars’ worth of victuals -in a day? - -H. You’d better leave there at once. I’ll give you the address of a place -where you can get boarded for six dollars a week, while you’ll be earning -twelve. - -J. We kin git board up to Beanville for two dollars a week. - -H. Beanville and Boston are two different places, and differ greatly in -some important respects. If you will wait here a few moments, I’ll go out -and speak to my friend about this place that you want. - - (_Exit R._) - -J. (_solus_). Well, I wouldn’t ’a’ thought that Jenkins was such a tricky -feller. I’d like to jist git hold of him once, and ef I wouldn’t give him -a kick that would land him in the middle of next week, it’s because I’d -lost the use of my foot, that’s all. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -ONE WEEK AN EDITOR. - - -CHARACTERS. - - FERNANDO CLAPP, Editor pro tem. - EPHRAIM SIMPSON, a Country Farmer. - DR. JOHN JENKINS, Vender of Salve. - EUGENE SNOW, Printer’s “Devil.” - ARAMINTA ELLIS, a Sentimental Young Lady. - GEO. CRANE, a Mechanic. - DR. WM. RANDALL, Proprietor of Anti-Dyspepsia Pills. - HENRY PERKINS, a Fierce-looking Individual. - - - SCENE I.—_A country printing office. EDITOR pro tem. sitting R. - before a table C. covered with MSS. Piles of newspapers upon - the floor on either side of him. A pair of scissors in one hand - and a pen in the other. Enter EPHRAIM SIMPSON, L._ - -EPHRAIM SIMPSON. Is this the office of the “Petersville Post”? - -EDITOR (_with some curiosity_). It is. - -E. You are the editor, I reckon? - -ED. You are right. - -E. Well, you see my name is Ephraim Simpson, and I live over to -Greenfield. I’ve been workin’ this summer hayin’, but I found it was too -hard work, and I reckoned I’d come to you and see if you couldn’t give me -a chance to edit a little. - -ED. Why, you know it is quite a difficult thing to learn to edit a paper. -It requires education, judgment, and a variety of other qualifications. - -E. Oh, as to that, I guess I can satisfy you. I have tended school in our -deestrict for four winters, and can read, write and cipher like a book. - -ED. That is all very well, but you know one must be able to compose as -well as write. - -E. Oh, compositions you mean. Well, I have written them some. Don’t you -want me to try my hand and show you what I kin do? - -ED. I am not in particular need of an assistant just now, but perhaps -you might as well sit down and try your hand at writing an editorial. -(_EPHRAIM sits down, R._) - -(_Enter, L., a rusty-looking individual, with a tin trunk under his arm._) - -JOHN JENKINS. Are you the editor of the “Post”? - -ED. I am. - -J. J. Then, sir, allow me to present you with a box of my famous salve -(_hands box to him_). - -ED. Thank you. - -J. J. Perhaps you’d be willing to insert this little paragraph about it. -I wrote it off to save you trouble (_hands paper to editor_). - -ED. (_reading aloud_). We have received from Dr. Jenkins a box of his -Magnetic Salve, which is warranted to cure every description of cut -or bruise in an incredibly short space of time. We know a boy who -accidentally cut off one of his fingers. His mother being absent, he -bethought himself of Dr. Jenkins’s salve, which she had bought the day -previous. He applied it to the injured finger, and before night there was -not even a scar to indicate where the wound had been. - -ED. (_looking up_). You want me to insert this? - -J. J. (_in an insinuating tone_). Yes, sir. - -ED. But I don’t know the boy referred to. - -J. J. My dear sir, aint you rather new in the business? - -ED. (_indignantly_). Well, and what if I am? - -J. J. (_smiling sarcastically_). I thought you were, or you’d understand -that this is the way they always do things. - -ED. We are a little more conscientious than editors generally. However, -you assure me that the salve is good? - -J. J. (_warmly_). Nothing better in the whole world, sir. - -ED. And you think it would be safe to speak well of it? - -J. J. Sir, you will be conferring a blessing on the community. - -ED. Very well, I will write a little puff for you. - -J. J. Thank you, sir. - - (_Exit, L._) - -PRINTER’S DEVIL (_entering, R._). More copy, sir. - -ED. Here it is (_handing him a paper_). - - (_Exit P. D._) - -(_A knock is heard at the door, L._) - -ED. Come in. - -(_Enter young lady, L._) - -YOUNG LADY. Please, sir, I am Araminta Ellis, the authoress of “Lines on -a Faded Buttercup.” - -ED. I am delighted to see you, Miss Ellis. Did the—the poem you speak of -appear in the “Post”? - -A. E. (_surprised at his ignorance_). No, sir, it was contributed to the -“Weekly Bulletin.” I have never written anything for the “Post,” but -should be willing to do so. What are your terms? - -ED. (_blandly_). Three dollars a year. - -A. E. I do not mean the subscription price of the paper, but how much do -you pay your poetical contributors? - -ED. We—ahem—that is, our friends are kind enough to make us a free gift -of their productions in that line. - -A. E. (_insinuatingly_). But don’t you pay for superior poetry? I have -here a poem which I would like to see transferred to your columns -(_passes manuscript to him_). - -ED. (_taking the poem_). Seventy-seven stanzas! That would be too long -for our columns. Couldn’t you shorten it? - -A. E. Not without marring its symmetrical proportions. But I will write -another and a shorter one soon, which will perhaps suit you better. - -ED. Thank you, Miss Ellis. That will undoubtedly be better suited to our -columns. - - (_Exit A. E., L._) - -(_Enter, L., GEORGE CRANE excitedly._) - -GEORGE CRANE. Sir, don’t you regard it as a part of an editor’s duty to -unmask villany and expose it to the world? - -ED. Certainly, sir. - -G. C. Then I should like to furnish you with some information respecting -a neighbor of mine, named Henry Perkins. He is a hypocrite, sir! He -professes a good deal, but secretly practises petty acts of meanness. -I have every reason to believe that he beats his wife; and he has been -suspected of robbing his neighbor’s hen-roosts. Just write an article -touching him up, and I’ll subscribe to your paper for a year. - -ED. (_cautiously_). Cash in advance? - -G. C. (_promptly_). Yes. - -ED. Very well, then. I’m your man. - - (_G. C. hands ED. five-dollar bill, and receives two dollars - back as change. Exit G. C., L. Enter WILLIAM RANDALL, L._) - -WILLIAM RANDALL. Is Mr. Clark in? - -ED. No, sir; but as his substitute I shall be happy to serve you. - -W. R. You must know, sir, that I have been laboring for some years past -on the preparation of a remedy for dyspepsia. At length, after great -labor and research, I have prepared a pill which I am sure will prove an -infallible cure in the most obstinate cases. I have the pleasure, sir, of -presenting you with a box of Dr. William Randall’s Anti-Dyspepsia Pills -(_passes box to him_). - -ED. Thank you. - -DR. R. (_preparing to leave_). By the way, I suppose you will favor me -with a notice? - -ED. (_hesitating_). Ye-es. - - (_Exit DR. R., L._) - -(_ED. sits down to write. After a moment’s pause EPHRAIM SIMPSON, who has -been writing (when not gazing at visitors), starts up._) - -E. S. Well, Mister Editor, how’s that? (_handing him a paper._) - -ED. (_reading aloud_). The hoss.—The hoss is a noble animal. He is also -interestin’ and knows a good deal. Some folks get very much attached to -their hosses. I knowed a Frenchman once, that thought so much of his hoss -that he even went so far as to call his own mother a _mare_ as a pet -name. Hosses are very interestin’ animals when they don’t rare up. Not -havin’ any more to say on this subjick, I will stop. - -ED. (_gravely_). That is very good; but, on the whole, I don’t think -there is any need of an assistant just yet. If there should be a time -when I stand in need of one, I will certainly _think of you_. - -E. S. (_disappointed_). Then you haint got anything for me to do? - -ED. Not just now. - -E. S. Then I must go. - - (_Exit E. S., L._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_Printing office. ED., C., looking complacently at - a newspaper spread out to its full proportions on the table - before him._ - -ED. (_soliloquizing_). And this is the result of my first week’s labor as -an editor. Excellent as my friend Clark has heretofore made the “Post,” -I think he will acknowledge that I have made some improvements in it. -(_Glances complacently down the page. His eye is suddenly arrested by a -paragraph which startles him._) What! What’s this? (_Reads._) - - “MR. FERNANDO CLAPP,—_Dear Sir_: I am instructed by your tailor - to present, for immediate payment, his bill amounting to - twenty-one dollars, eighteen cents and three-quarters. You are - requested to pay immediate attention to it, as otherwise the - law will take cognizance of your delinquency. - - “TIMOTHY PETTIGREW, _Att’y at Law_.” - -ED. (_furiously to P. D. entering R._). How did this get into the paper? - -P. D. (_smiling_). You gave it out as copy, sir. - -ED. When? - -P. D. The first day you were here. - - (_Exit P. D. as DR. RANDALL enters L. He is evidently very much - excited. He holds in his hand a copy of the “Post.”_) - -DR. R. (_pointing to an item_). Did you write that? - -ED. (_coolly_). Yes. I hope it suits you. - -DR. R. Suits me! Confound your impudence! Suits me! What do you mean by -that, sir? - -ED. You seem angry—why, I am at a loss to guess. - -DR. R. Sir, in noticing my medicine, you have insulted me. - -ED. (_surprised_). In noticing your medicine! How? - -DR. R. (_placing paper within two inches of ED.’S nose, he repeats_), -“_He says it will cure the most obstinate case of dyspepsia. Perhaps it -may._” I demand an explanation, sir. - -ED. (_stepping back_). It is very easily given. I only intended to say, -that personally I had no experience of the matter, and not being able to -speak positively, I said “_perhaps_!” - -DR. R. (_suspiciously_). Is that true? - -ED. Certainly. But, if you wish, I will recall the statement in our next -issue. - -DR. R. That would be more satisfactory to me. - - (_Exit, L._) - -(_Enter, L., a fierce-looking individual._) - -HENRY PERKINS (_in a threatening tone_). Are you the editor? - -ED. (_with quaking heart_). Yes. - -H. P. (_sneering_). I suppose you don’t know who I am? - -ED. No, I don’t. - -H. P. (_fiercely_). I am that Henry Perkins whom you have so atrociously -libelled in your paper of this morning. Don’t think, sir, that such -conduct is to go unpunished! I stand upon my rights, sir, as a citizen, -and I will not be trampled upon. - -(_MR. P. seizes ED. by the collar of his coat and shakes him vigorously._) - -ED. (_struggling_). Unhand me, sir! - -H. P. (_still shaking him_). There, you little blackguard! I guess you -won’t slander me again in a hurry. - -ED. (_passionately_). I’ll have the law of you, you villain! - -H. P. You will, eh! Then I must give you your pay in advance. - -(_He continues to shake him a moment. Then making a low, mocking bow, he -goes out._) - -ED. (_furiously_). I won’t stand this. I’ll leave a note for Clark, and -go home this moment. There’s no knowing what may come next. It is as -much as one’s life is worth to be an editor. - - (_Exit hurriedly._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -KEEPING GENTEEL BOARDERS. - - -DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. - - MRS. JONES, Keeper of a Boarding-House. - AMANDA, Her Daughter. - MRS. SIMPERTON, ⎫ - ISADORA MALVINA, ⎪ - COUNT HENRI DE FRIPON, ⎪ - ABIGAIL TRIST, ⎬ Applicants for Board - ZACHARY WINFIELD TAYLOR SCOTT, ⎪ - JETHRO BURBANK, ⎪ - MRS. WESTWOOD, ⎭ - SHERIFF. - MR. RANDALL. - BRIDGET. - - - SCENE I.—_A room in the house of MRS. JONES. MRS. J., R., and - her daughter, L., present, both seated._ - -MRS. JONES. Well, Amanda, now that we have taken a large house and -prepared it for boarders, the next thing will be to fill it. - -AMANDA. Advertise in the “Herald,” mamma. - -MRS. J. It may be a good plan. We ought to make money; but when I -consider that we have a large rent to pay, I can’t help thinking that -there is some risk about it. You know we were able to live comfortably on -the money your poor father left, and without any care or exertion on our -part. - -A. (_scornfully_). _Comfortably_, mamma! You know how we had to pinch -ourselves. I could hardly afford one bonnet a year, and, as to dresses, -I had to wear them so long a time I was positively ashamed. Other people -make money by keeping boarders, and why can’t we? - -MRS. J. You may be right, Amanda. But about the advertisement. How shall -we express it? - -(_AMANDA sits down at the table and writes._) - -A. How will this do, mamma? (_Reads._) - -WANTED.—A few first-class boarders, by a genteel family whose object is -to surround themselves by a pleasant social circle, rather than to make -money. Address “Boarders,” Herald office. - -MRS. J. But, my dear, my object is to make money. - -A. Of course, mamma; but it sounds well to seem indifferent to it. - -MRS. J. Perhaps you are right. (_A pause._) I wonder when the -advertisement will appear. - -A. To-morrow morning, probably, and we may expect applications at any -time afterward. - -MRS. J. Then it would be best to fix on a price for board at once. - -A. Yes, I suppose so. - -MRS. J. How would twelve dollars a week do? - -A. It wouldn’t do at all. We couldn’t pay expenses. - -MRS. J. But I’m afraid if we charge such high prices we shall not be able -to fill our rooms. - -A. That’s just the means to accomplish it. Many people judge of the style -and reputation of a house by the price asked. You ought to insist on at -least fifteen or twenty dollars for the best rooms, and a little less for -those not so desirable. - -MRS. J. But that won’t correspond with the advertisement, where I say I -take boarders for company, rather than to make money. - -A. I don’t think that will ever be noticed; but if it should, you can say -with truth, that you could not pay your expenses if you charged less. - -MRS. J. Well, I hope we may be successful, for I have made such an outlay -in fitting up the house, that our income will this year be far less than -usual, and our expenses correspondingly larger. - -A. There’s no doubt of our success. Three months from now we shall be -able not only to defray our necessary expenses, but also to replace the -money which you were obliged to draw to pay for the furniture. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_The same. AMANDA, L., present. She is looking over - the morning paper. Enter MRS. JONES, R._ - -MRS. JONES. Ah, has the paper come, Amanda? - -AMANDA. Yes, and the advertisement is inserted, and reads well. (_Passes -paper to her mother._) - -MRS. J. That seems to be right—(_listens—sound of bell is heard_). But -hark! Isn’t that the door bell? - -A. Yes; I hope it may prove an applicant for board. - -(_Servant ushers in MRS. SIMPERTON and her daughter, L._) - -MRS. SIMPERTON. This is Mrs. Jones, I believe. - -MRS. J. You are right. That is my name. - -MRS. S. (_affectedly_). I must introduce myself as Mrs. Simperton. And -this is my daughter, Isadora Malvina. (_MRS. J. bows._) We saw your -advertisement in this morning’s “Herald,” and when we called at the -office, were directed here. - -MRS. J. Yes, my daughter and myself wished for company. It is rather -lonely for two persons to live by themselves in a large house like this, -with no one near but servants. - -MRS. S. It must be so, and I do not wonder that you wish for companions. -My daughter and myself are thinking of boarding this winter, and I wish -to make some inquiries concerning your rooms. I suppose they are newly -furnished. - -MRS. J. Yes, they all contain new furniture. - -MRS. S. And is it black walnut, with marble tops to the bureau and -tables? - -MRS. J. Yes, a part of the rooms are furnished in that style. - -MRS. S. I suppose we could have our meals in our own rooms. - -MRS. J. (_hesitating_). Well—yes—perhaps it could be arranged so. - -MRS. S. And I suppose we could have them at whatever hour we chose. - -MRS. J. I think so. - -MRS. S. That seems to be favorable. May I ask your terms? - -MRS. J. For my best rooms, with private meals, I should be obliged to -charge twenty dollars a week apiece. If the meals came at unusual hours, -it would be worth more. - -MRS. S. (_with emphasis_). Your charge is exorbitant. Such accommodations -are not worth more than half the sum you name. Still I am willing to pay -twenty-five dollars for both of us. - -MRS. J. I couldn’t think of such a thing. I shouldn’t be able to pay my -expenses at such low rates for board. - -MRS. S. I thought you didn’t keep boarders for profit, but only for the -sake of company. - -MRS. J. That is very true. I don’t take boarders for profit, but neither -do I intend to take them at a loss. I shouldn’t consider their company to -be of sufficient value to compensate for that. - -MRS. S. Very well; I see we must look further. I don’t believe we should -be suited here. Come, Isadora Malvina. (_Goes out, L., with a lofty air, -followed by her daughter._) - -A. What airs people do put on sometimes! I’m glad she didn’t decide to -stay. I shouldn’t want her for a boarder at any price. (_Bell rings. -Enter COUNT DE FRIPON, L._) - -COUNT (_with a polite bow_). Can madame accommodate me with a suite of -rooms? - -MRS. J. I think so. What rooms do you desire? - -C. I should like a _chambre à coucher_—what you call a bedroom; also a -parlor in which I could receive my friends. - -MRS. J. You would require board, too, I suppose. - -C. Oui, madame,—yes, you are right. I should wish board for myself, and -sometimes I might bring a friend with me to dine. - -MRS. J. Certainly. We shall always be glad to see any of your friends. In -regard to terms— - -C. (_with a deprecating gesture_). Pardon, madame, but—I never trouble -myself with these trifling matters. At the end of every month you will -send in your bill to me, and I shall pay it to you at once. - -MRS. J. That will be satisfactory. But what name shall I put down? - -C. (_with a courtly air_). Count Henri de Fripon, madame. Here is my -card. (_Passes it._) - -MRS. J. (_bows, while a pleased smile overspreads her face_). And when -would you like to come? - -C. I shall come to you next Monday, in the morning. I have the honor to -wish you good day, madame; bon jour, mademoiselle. - - (_Exit, L., with low bow._) - -MRS. J. That’s a boarder after my own mind. He never inquired the terms, -and will be ready to pay when the bill is presented. I wish we might -secure others of the same kind. - -A. And he’s one of the nobility, too. His presence will give quite a -distinguished air to the house. - -MRS. J. Yes; he’s quite an acquisition. (_Bell rings._) Besides, who -knows but—(_Enter MISS TRIST, L._) - -MISS TRIST. Good mornin’, ma’am. Good mornin’, miss. (_MRS. J. and A. -both bow._) I’ve come to see about gettin’ boarded. - -MRS. J. I think we can accommodate you. What kind of a room would you -like? - -MISS T. It don’t make no sort o’ difference to me. I only want a shelter. -’Taint likely I shall be spared long to need one. - -MRS. J. (_with sympathy_). Are you an invalid? - -MISS T. No, I aint sick yet, but there’s no knowin’ how soon I may be. My -mother died _young_, and died suddenly, too. I expect to go in the same -way. - -MRS. J. I hope not. (_A pause._) We have rooms which, with board, vary -from twelve to twenty dollars per week. - -MISS T. My sakes! That’s an awful price, aint it? But then I might as -well spend my money for board as to leave it for my relations to quarrel -over. - -MRS. J. That certainly is a better way. - -MISS T. (_mournfully_). Perhaps you wouldn’t think it, from my comin’ -here to get boarded; but I’ve got three sisters and two brothers, and -they’re all watchin’ to see if I aint goin’ to get sick an’ die, so they -can have my money. - -MRS. J. You’d better come here to board, then. I dare say it would be the -means of prolonging your life. - -MISS T. Do you think so? I wish I could believe it, though (_dismally_) -I haint got nothin’ to live for. But then, if I aint to live long, it -would be a comfort to spend my last days in peace. I’ve had a great many -troubles and trials in my time. - -MRS. J. I am sorry to hear it. - -MISS T. Yes, I lost my best friend just six days before we were to be -married. If he’d only lived one week longer, I might have been a desolate -relict instead of a lonely single woman. - -MRS. J. It must have been a great disappointment. - -MISS T. Yes; but then ’twas my luck. I don’t place no dependence on -anything now. (_Rising._) There’s no knowin’ what may happen; but I’ll -come, to stay, next Monday, if I’m alive an’ well. - - (_Exit, L._) - -A. (_drawing a long breath_). Oh, I’m so glad she’s gone. I hope -something will happen to prevent her coming. It’s as dismal to have her -round as to be alone in the house on a drizzly day in November. - -MRS. J. We can’t refuse any one who is willing to pay our price. But -hark! some one is coming. (_Enter MR. SCOTT hurriedly._) - -MR. SCOTT (_nervously_). I have come to get boarded here madam. (_With -deprecating gesture._) Don’t refuse me, for I shall certainly commit -suicide if you do. You see I’ve set my heart on boarding with you and -your charming daughter. - -MRS. J. (_benignantly_). There is no occasion for my refusing you. We -have still a few rooms left that are not engaged. - -MR. S. (_in a hurried manner_). And what are your terms—though that will -make no difference. I shall come, whatever they may be. - -MRS. J. We have one room, at fifteen dollars, that may perhaps suit you. - -MR. S. (_with a theatrical air_). Fifteen dollars! Ask me not to pay such -a paltry sum. I would never pay less than twenty-five. - -MRS. J. Very well, you can pay any sum you choose. - -MR. S. Then I choose to pay twenty-five dollars. But there’s another -inquiry that I wish to make. Can I have a piano in my room? - -MRS. J. There is a piano in the parlor, which the boarders are at liberty -to use when they feel inclined. - -MR. S. But that will not suit me. Perhaps I should wish to play when some -one else was using it. No, I must have one in my own room. (_Earnestly._) -I’m willing to pay extra for it—five, fifteen, or even fifty dollars a -week, rather than not to have it. - -MRS. J. Certainly; if you are willing to pay for it I will have one put -into your room for you. - -MR. S. You relieve my mind greatly. I will be here to commence boarding -to-morrow. Here is my card. (_Passes it._) Good-morning, ladies. - - (_Exit hastily, L._) - -A. What a strange man! It isn’t often that one meets with a person who -sets so little value on money. - -MRS. J. His name is as strange as his actions. - -A. (_with curiosity_). What is it? - -MRS. J. Zachary Winfield Taylor Scott. - -A. (_with interest_). Perhaps he is a son of General Scott. I’ve heard it -said that the families of great men are often eccentric. - - (_Bell rings. Enter JETHRO BURBANK, L._) - -JETHRO BURBANK. I’ve come to see as how, could I get boarded. - -MRS. J. We have some rooms still vacant, if the price is such as to suit -you. - -J. B. (_unheeding her remark_). You see, I’ve come all the way from -Hatchville, State of Maine, to see if I could get a situation here in -the city, and the fust thing is to get a boarding-place. What do you -calc’late to charge me now? Don’t set it too high. - -MRS. J. The lowest-priced rooms we have left are fifteen dollars per -week, with board. - -J. B. Gewhittaker! That’s an all-fired big sum. You don’t mean that’s -your lowest price. - -MRS. J. Certainly. This is a first-class house, and we do not take any -boarders who can’t afford to pay our prices. - -J. B. Wal, I don’t know what you call fust-class boarders, but marm -boards the schoolmaster, and the editor of the paper, and I guess they -aint second to nobody. - -MRS. J. (_smiling_). And what does she charge for board? - -J. B. Wal, she charges jest two dollars a week. That’s what I call a -reasonable price. But I knowed that prices were higher in the city, and -I calc’lated I’d have to pay as much as five dollars; but to pay three -times that, is more than I can stand. Why, the price of a year’s board -would buy me a good farm down to Hatchville. - -MRS. J. Then I’m afraid you’ll have to go back there. - -J. B. Wal, I shan’t give it up so. I’m going to try further. - - (_Exit J. B., L._) - -A. It is getting late. I don’t believe we shall have any more applicants -to-day. - -MRS. J. You are mistaken, for here is one now. - - (_Enter MRS. WESTWOOD, L._) - -MRS. WESTWOOD. Good-afternoon, ladies. Am I too late for a place? Are -your rooms all taken? - -MRS. J. No. We have several left. There are two in particular that I -think you would fancy. One is a very large and pleasant room. The other -is a little smaller. - -MRS. W. Oh, I must have the large one, by all means. - -MRS. J. The larger one, with board, will be twenty dollars a week. - -MRS. W. Very well, I will pay it. I’ve got plenty of money at present. -My husband died a year ago, and left me with a large farm and a quantity -of stock. But I wasn’t going to be immured in a dismal farm-house—not -I. So I’ve sold the farm, and come to the city to board till my money -gives out. Perhaps then you’ll take me as a partner in the boarding-house -business. - -MRS. J. I find it takes considerable money, even for that business. - -MRS. W. Oh, well, I’ve got enough—a couple of hundred thousand dollars. -But I’m not ready to go in yet. I want to see a little of city life -first. If I meet a good-looking gentleman that invites me, perhaps I -shall become his partner instead of yours. But time will show. - -MRS. J. What time would you like to commence? - -MRS. W. It might as well be now as any other time. I can send for my -trunks. - -MRS. J. Very well; I will show you the two rooms, though I think you will -prefer the larger one. - -MRS. W. Oh, I am sure I shall. - - (_Exit MRS. J. and MRS. W., L._) - -A. (_sola_). Quite a number of the rooms are already engaged, and I think -we may congratulate ourselves on having made a good beginning. How much -better it will be to keep a genteel boarding-house than to tend shop or -keep school for a living. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_The same. MRS. JONES present, R. Enter AMANDA, L._ - -AMANDA. Did you send for me, mamma? - -MRS. JONES. Yes. I think it is necessary for us to have a consultation -about our affairs. - -A. (_surprised_). I thought you were getting along charmingly. I’m sure -the house is full of boarders at good prices, and has been ever since we -commenced. What more could you wish for? - -MRS. J. Everything would be quite satisfactory if the boarders would only -pay up promptly. But Mrs. Westwood and Miss Trist are the only ones that -I can depend on. The butcher and baker have sent in heavy bills, and this -morning I have received grocery and gas bills, as well as bills for extra -furniture that was required. Then, too, a month’s rent is due for the -piano in the parlor and that in Mr. Scott’s room. - -A. Ask Mr. Scott for the money due you for his board. - -MRS. J. I have done so repeatedly, but he has such a way of evading it -that I can’t get anything. Indeed, sometimes he gets so excited that I am -almost frightened, and glad enough to leave him, even without my money. - -A. But surely the count has paid you. - -MRS. J. Not a cent. I was to send in my bill three days ago, but before -I was able to do so he asked for an interview, and said that he had been -disappointed about receiving money which he expected, and asked me to -wait a week longer. He seemed so sorry about it that I couldn’t help -accommodating him. - -BRIDGET (_entering, R._). An’ did ye take the silver, mum? I haven’t seen -a sight of it since I left it on the table after cl’aning it this morning. - -MRS. J. (_surprised_). I haven’t taken it away. Was the front door locked? - -B. Yis, I thried that same, an’ it was locked as usual. But jist as I -went to look if it was fast, the postman came, an’ brought this letter. - -MRS. J. (_opening it hastily, and glancing at signature_). Why, this is -from the count. (_Reads._) - - “Dear Mrs. Jones: I write to let you know that I have just - received the money I expected, and which I was only able to get - by selling your silver, which I gathered up this morning for - that purpose. As the jeweller said it wasn’t first quality, - I got less than I hoped for, so I sha’n’t be able to settle - my board bill at present. You will find the silver, also your - daughter’s watch and rings, at the shop of Willis and Turner. - Yours, - - “COUNT HENRI DE FRIPON.” - -A. (_excited_). What! My watch and rings. How could he have got them? - -B. Oh, the murtherin villain! An’ didn’t I tell Kate, the cook, that he -had too much blarny about him for an honest man? - -MRS. J. (_troubled_). What shall we do? - -B. Send the perlice after him. - - (_Enter MISS TRIST, L._) - -MISS T. Oh, my poor head! I can’t stand it any longer. - -MRS. J. What’s the matter, Miss Trist? - -MISS T. That Mr. Scott, whose room is right opposite mine, is all the -time playing on the piano. If it was sacred music I wouldn’t mind; but -it’s the quickest kind of dancing tunes. - -A. Why don’t you knock at his door and tell him how much it disturbs you? -There is no one in the parlor, and he can play there all the afternoon if -he wishes. - -MISS T. Perhaps I will do so, for I’m afraid I shall go distracted. - - (_Exit, L._) - -B. An’ I must tell ye, mum, that Katy an’ me’ll be afther lavin’ here -intirely, if our month’s wages aint paid by to-morrow. - -MRS. J. Very well, I will attend to it. You can go now. (_Exit BRIDGET, -R._) I’m sure I don’t know what we’re going to do. I have received -two letters from Lawyer Snap about the last month’s rent. The second -one stated that if it was not paid immediately legal steps would be -instituted. - -(_At this moment hurried steps are heard, L., and MISS TRIST rushes into -the room, closely followed by MR. SCOTT; her cap strings flying, and -both hands are placed on her devoted head, as if fearing a blow there. -Her companion dashes madly after her, holding a heavy music-book in a -menacing way._) - -MRS. J. Miss Trist, Mr. Scott—what is the matter? - -MR. S. (_standing still for a moment, speaks in a fierce manner_). That -woman (_looking toward MISS T._) has been tormenting me. I was engaged in -improvising music, an opera which would have far exceeded anything that -Verdi or Meyerbeer ever composed, and was just arranging one of the most -delicate passages, when that woman knocked at my door. (_Enter SHERIFF -and keeper by entrance back of MR. S._) Of course the interruption was -fatal to my opera. And what did she come for? Why, she wanted me to go to -the parlor piano, because my music disturbed her. And through her means, -that divine opera is lost to the world. (_In a loud tone._) I will kill -her! (_more fiercely_) I will annihilate her! I will crush her to atoms! -(_AMANDA faints, MRS. J. clasps her hands with a deprecating gesture, and -MR. S. dashes after MISS T., who has sunk with a frightened air into a -chair in the farther corner. The SHERIFF seizes MR. S. from behind. The -latter struggles furiously, but vainly._) - -SHERIFF. Here, Randall, take charge of this man. He’s that lunatic who -escaped from the asylum six weeks ago. They’ve searched most everywhere -for him. - -MR. S. (_who is quiet for a moment—with a smile_). I was too cunning for -them. (_Again furious._) You shall not restrain me. I must annihilate -that woman, and then finish my opera. (_RANDALL takes MR. S., screaming -and struggling furiously, from the room._) - -MRS. J. (_to SHERIFF_). How can I thank you, sir, for delivering us from -that madman? - -SHERIFF. I am happy to have been of service to you in that way; but -my errand here was to give you trouble. (_MRS. J. looks expectantly -toward him. MRS. WESTWOOD enters, R._) I have been instructed to levy an -attachment on your furniture, on account of your refusing to pay your -rent. - -MRS. J. I am sorry it so happens. I depended on the money which I was to -receive from my boarders to pay my expenses; but, of fifteen boarders, -these two ladies are the only ones who have paid. - -MRS. W. (_coming forward_). That’s a shame. Mr. Sheriff, what’s the -amount of your bill? - -SHERIFF. Rent $125, and costs $25 more. - -MRS. W. Here’s the money, $150. Now give me a receipted bill. - -SHERIFF. Here is one, though I didn’t expect to need it (_gives bill and -takes money_). Thank you, ma’am. - - (_Exit SHERIFF, L. MRS. J. gazes in astonishment._) - -MRS. W. Mrs. Jones, what do your other unpaid bills amount to? - -MRS. J. About five hundred dollars. - -MRS. W. Well, I’ve got a proposal to make to you. In the first place, -however, I must explain a little. Do you remember hearing your husband -speak of his sister, Sarah Jane, who went to California to become a -teacher, some twenty odd years ago? - -MRS. J. Yes; she went away just before I became acquainted with him. He -frequently spoke of the circumstance; but the vessel was wrecked, and he -supposed, as he heard no further tidings, that she must have been lost -with the other passengers. - -MRS. W. Well, she wasn’t lost, but returned a couple of months ago, and -now stands before you. - -A. And are you my Aunt Sarah? - -MRS. W. Yes. I went, as you know, to San Francisco with the intention of -teaching, but on board the steamer I became acquainted with Mr. Westwood, -who had started for California to seek his fortune. He and myself and one -other passenger were the only persons saved from the wreck. He persuaded -me to abandon my original plan, and marry him. I did so, and we went into -the country, where he bought a sheep ranch. He was prospered in all his -undertakings, and, last year, died, leaving me, by will, all he possessed. - -MRS. J. But why haven’t you written to us in all these years? - -MRS. W. We were intending, from year to year, to come back soon to -surprise my brother, but circumstances constantly arose to prevent -it. After my husband died, I determined to come at once and seek my -relatives; but when I arrived I learned of my brother’s death. I then -sought a boarding-place, and in looking over the paper met with your -advertisement. Although the name was the same, I had no idea you were his -widow till I saw his portrait hanging in the parlor. Though grown older, -his features had not yet changed, and I recognized him at once. I engaged -board with you, thinking if I enjoyed stopping here I would propose to -become a permanent member of your family. I now propose to take the -house, pay your debts and all the future expenses of house-keeping, in -return for the society of yourself and daughter. What do you say to the -plan? - -MRS. J. I should be very glad to have it so, but I am afraid you do not -realize what you are taking upon yourself. - -MRS. W. Trust me for that. I know what I am about. - -MRS. J. Then there’ll be no more anxiety and worriment about unpaid bills. - -A. And no desire to continue the experiment of Keeping Genteel Boarders. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -MRS. SKINFLINT’S BARGAINS. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MRS. SKINFLINT, a very Parsimonious Woman. - EZEKIEL ONTHANK, a Yankee Peddler. - SARAH JANE HOBBS, Ezekiel’s Sweetheart. - MRS. HOBBS, Sarah Jane’s Mother. - - - SCENE I.—_MRS. SKINFLINT’S sitting-room. MRS. SKINFLINT, a - tall, bony woman, with a sharp, pinched face, is sitting in a - rocking-chair, C., knitting._ - -MRS. SKINFLINT (_soliloquizes_). I declare I’ll never buy another thing -at Thompson’s store. I paid fifteen cents a yard for my last kaliker -dress, and Mis’ Hobbs bought one of a peddler yesterday, jest as good, -for thirteen cents and three quarters. It’s a shame! On twelve yards I -lost fifteen cents. That’s too much money to lose in these hard times. I -wish that peddler would come along. I need a sight o’ things, and if I -couldn’t beat him down, my name aint Betsy Jane Skinflint. - -(_A knock is heard at the door, R. MRS. S. rises and opens it. The -visitor proves to be EZEKIEL ONTHANK, a Yankee peddler, with a large pack -on his back. He enters._) - -EZEKIEL. Mornin’, marm. Anything in my line to-day? Dress-patterns, -hoop-skirts, shawls, laces, ribbons, jewelry, spectacles, buttons, -scissors, needles, pins— - -MRS. S. Massy sakes! don’t tell any more of ’em. I shall forget what you -sed fust. You haint got no good clocks, hev ye? - -EZEK. Haint I though! I kin beat everybody on clocks. I’ve got some that -cum clear from Switzerland. I imported ’em myself. Here’s one (_taking it -from his pack_), the pootiest and best little timepiece ever you see. - -MRS. S. Does it keep good time? - -EZEK. I guess it does—tip-top. It goes ahead of anything ever you set -your eyes on. - -MRS. S. (_cautiously_). What d’ye charge for it? - -EZEK. (_hesitating_). Well, I hev been sellin’ on ’em all along for -twelve dollars apiece, but seein’ it’s you, I’ll let you have it for ten. - -MRS. S. (_throwing up her hands_). Ten dollars! D’ye think I’m made o’ -money? Besides, the clock aint wuth half that. But I don’t mind givin’ -you five for it. - -EZEK. That don’t pay the cost of importin’ ’em; but, ef you’re goin’ to -buy consider’ble, I’ll say five for it. What’s the next thing? - -MRS. S. I want ter git a pair o’ spettercles. As I was ridin’ to meetin’, -last Sunday, mine fell off, and the wheel run right over ’em, and smashed -the glass all to pieces. I cared more about ’em ’cause they’d ben in the -famerly so long. Marm and granny both used ’em afore me. - -EZEK. Mebbe they might be mended. Let’s see ’em. - -(_MRS. S. produces a pair of heavy, iron-bowed spectacles. EZEKIEL looks -at them dubiously._) - -EZEK. I s’pose they might be fixed, but it’s my opinion ’twouldn’t pay. -Besides, the bows are too heavy to wear. Didn’t nobody ever tell ye that -wearin’ heavy-bowed specs sometimes made folks round-shouldered? - -MRS. S. (_straightening up_). No. Dew tell! - -EZEK. But I’ve got somethin’ here that’ll suit you to a T. Jest try ’em -on (_handing her a pair of spectacles_). That’s jest the article you want. - -MRS. S. (_trying them on and looking up_). Well, they’re pooty fair. But -I s’pose you’ll charge as much as a dollar for ’em. - -EZEK. A dollar! Why, woman alive, you don’t think I’d sell them specs for -a dollar. They’re the real genuine periscopic Scotch pebble. They’re well -wuth five dollars, but I shall only charge you three for them. ’Taint -often you can get such a good article so cheap. - -MRS. S. I’ll give you two dollars for ’em. - -EZEK. No, I can’t afford to sell ’em so low. But I’ll tell you what I -will do. I’ll split the difference, and let you have ’em for two-fifty. -They’re very becomin’ to you—make you look ten years younger than the -others did. - -MRS. S. (_smiling at the compliment_). Well, I s’pose I shall have to -take ’em. But I shouldn’t think ’twould take you long to get rich at that -rate. - -EZEK. The fact is, I’m growin’ poorer every day. I ought not to sell my -goods so cheap; but the wimmen have such captivatin’ ways that I can’t -resist ’em. What’s the next thing? - -MRS. S. Well, I want some caliker for a new gown. I bought enough for one -at Thompson’s, the other day; but I want another. - -EZEK. I’ve got jest the thing for you (_showing her a piece of calico -with stripes of red and yellow_). That’s exactly your style, and it’s -only twelve and a half cents a yard. - -MRS. S. Will it wash? - -EZEK. Like white cloth. I’ve sold yards and yards of that same pattern. -It takes so well that one factory don’t make nothin’ else. - -MRS S. Twelve and a half cents a yard is too much. I can’t afford it, but -I’ll give you a dollar for twelve yards. - -EZEK. Couldn’t do it. Think of a nice dress pattern like that -(_displaying the goods in a tempting manner_) bein’ sold for a dollar. -No, marm, I can’t sell it any less. - -MRS. S. (_looking at it longingly_). I’ll give you a dollar and a quarter. - -EZEK. Well, as you’re taking consider’ble, I’ll let you have it for that; -but you mustn’t say nothin’ about it. Why, Mis’ Hobbs bought some of it, -and paid full price. I’m boardin’ there at Mis’ Hobbs’s. She’s got a -pooty daughter—that Sairy Jane. Between you and me, that’s the reason I -went to boardin’ there, for Mis’ Hobbs aint much of a cook. - -MRS. S. (_elated_). I allers knew that. She never did hev much of a -bringin’ up (_MRS. S. passes him money._) - -EZEK. (_preparing to leave_). Thank ye, marm. Well, aint there sumthin’ -more? You’ll want some hooks and eyes, and thread to make your dress -with, don’t ye? - -MRS. S. Oh, you’ll throw them in, won’t ye? The store people do. - -EZEK. That’s askin’ a little too much. - -MRS. S. Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll give you a mince pie -for ’em. I made some fresh ones to-day. What d’ye say? You know yer -boardin’-place aint anything to boast of. - -EZEK. Well, I don’t mind doin’ it for once. (_MRS. SKINFLINT passes him -pie from the table._) But I think I’d better be goin’. It don’t pay much -to trade with you. You’re a deal too sharp. (_Taking his pack, he leaves -the house._) - -MRS. S. (_self-complacently soliloquizes_). I think I did make a good -trade. Trust me for that. I saved enough on them trades to buy me a set -of furs, next winter. They don’t cost but eight dollars, and I daresay I -could get ’em for five. But there, it’s most twelve o’clock. I must be -gettin’ dinner ready. - - (_Exit._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_A curtain arranged from front to back, dividing the - stage into sitting-room, L., and kitchen, R., as both must be - seen at once. There must be a door between. MRS. HOBBS is in - the sitting-room, sewing, R. MRS. SKINFLINT enters, L._ - -MRS. S. How d’ye do, Mis’ Hobbs? - -MRS. HOBBS. Why, how d’ye do, Mis’ Skinflint? I’m glad to see you. -Sit right down in the rockin’-chair, do. (_She sits down, L._) It’s a -pleasant evenin’. - -MRS. S. Yes, very pleasant. I cum over this evenin’, Mis’ Hobbs, to -see if there’s a peddler stoppin’ here. I bought a clock of one, this -mornin’, and he sed he boarded here. The clock don’t go, and I want him -to come and fix it, or give me another one. - -MRS. H. Yes, that’s him; jest come into the kitchen. He’ll be right in, I -guess. He always sits in here, evenin’s. - -(_Just then voices are heard in the kitchen. SARAH JANE is seen knitting, -L. EZEKIEL enters, R._) - -SARAH JANE. Well, what adventures have you had to-day, ’Zekiel? - -EZEK. The richest was with Mis’ Skinflint. Mis’ Deacon Pettengill told me -she was as mean as dirt (_here MRS. S. starts, but, on second thoughts, -waits to hear what is coming next. MRS. HOBBS smiles, grimly_), and I -thought I see if I couldn’t sarcumvent her. - -S. J. What did you do? - -EZEK. I offered her a clock for twelve dollars, and she beat me down to -five. I usually sell ’em for a dollar and a half. - -S. J. I suppose ’twasn’t worth even that. - -EZEK. It doesn’t go much, but when it does, it makes up for lost time. -Then she wanted some _spettercles_. She took a pair for two dollars and a -half that I generally get seventy-five cents for; but I’ll warrant they -won’t magnify any too much, for there’s nothing but winder-glass in ’em. - -MRS. S. (_emphatically_). The villain! - -S. J. You was rather too bad, ’Zekiel. - -EZEK. Not at all. She bought some calico, and asked if it would wash. I -told her it would wash like white cloth, and I guess ’twill. After two or -three washings, there won’t be a bit of color left in it. - -MRS. S. Oh, the wretch! Won’t I give it to him! (_MRS. HOBBS smiles. She -evidently enjoys the scene._) - -EZEK. But the cream of the joke was that she wanted some hooks and eyes -and a spool of thread, and gave me a mince pie for them. I tasted it, but -it was such wretched stuff that I couldn’t eat it, so I threw it into -the river for the fishes. - -(_MRS. SKINFLINT dashes into the kitchen with arms akimbo. EZEKIEL -shrinks back with mock terror. SARAH JANE and her mother come forward, -smiling, to see what will be done._) - -MRS. S. What do you mean, you wretch, by cheatin’ me in such a way? - -EZEK. I didn’t cheat you. You tried to keep me from gettin’ any profit on -my goods. I put a price on them, and you could take them or not, as you -pleased. You was willin’ to pay what I asked for them; so I don’t see how -I cheated you. - -MRS. S. You didn’t tell me the truth about ’em (_furiously_). Then you -called the nice pie I gave you wretched stuff. I shouldn’t ’a thought of -givin’ it to you ef ye hadn’t said you didn’t git anythin’ fit to eat -here. - -MRS. H. (_starting forward_). What’s that? What did he say? - -MRS. S. (_gloating over her discomfiture_). He said you wasn’t much of -a cook, and, ef it warn’t for courtin’ Sairy Jane, he couldn’t stand it -boardin’ here. - -MRS. H. (_to EZEK._). So that’s the way you repay my kindness in taking -you in, is it, you miserable villain? I’m mad enough to pull your hair—if -you only had enough to pull. - -EZEK. (_glancing sideways at her_). I shouldn’t dare to pull yours, -marm, for fear ’twould come off in my hand. - -MRS. H. (_advancing with a threatening air, and catching up the tongs as -she goes_). Get out of the house, you insultin’ creature, and never let -me set eyes on you again! - -(_EZEKIEL goes out as if in fear, R., slyly beckoning to SARAH JANE to -go too. She nods and goes out by another door, R. MRS. HOBBS throws -EZEKIEL’S pack after him._) - -MRS. H. (_going toward MRS. S. with tongs upraised_). Now, old Skinflint, -do you go too. You’ve made mischief enough here. I don’t blame the man -for throwin’ your miserable pie away. I hope it wont pizen the fishes. - -MRS. S. (_looking back as she goes out, R._). I guess you’ll find you’ve -got enough to look after, without ’tendin’ to your neighbors’ business -(_pointing_). There goes Sairy Jane with that peddler’s arm round her -waist. - - (_Exit MRS. SKINFLINT from one door, R., while MRS. - HOBBS dashes out from another, R. Curtain falls._) - - - - -MRS. GRUNDY’S TYRANNY. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MR. CHARLES GOODENOW, ⎫ - MR. EDWARD HENDERSON, ⎬ Merchants. - MR. FRANK BURLEY, ⎭ - MRS. BURLEY, Mr. Burley’s Wife. - MRS. STOCKBRIDGE, ⎫ Mrs. Burley’s Friends. - MRS. WHEELER, ⎭ - JAMES, A Customer. - BRIDGET MURPHY, ⎫ Owners of Fruit Stands. - KATE O’CALLAHAN, ⎭ - - - SCENE I.—_CHARLES GOODENOW, R., sits in a chair, tipped back, - gazing thoughtfully into the upper distance. His head rests - upon his hands which are clasped behind it. Enter FRANK BURLEY, - L._ - -FRANK. Hallo, Charlie. In the land of dreams? If so I won’t disturb you. - -CHARLES (_not answering immediately_). Not exactly dreaming. There was -too much reality about my thoughts for that. But sit down, Frank. - -F. (_sitting down_). And what were you thinking about, if I am allowed to -ask? - -C. I was thinking what slaves we were to Fashion and Mrs. Grundy. I don’t -know of one of my acquaintances who would have courage enough to do -anything which would conflict with the usages of so-called good society. - -F. Don’t include me in that category. I have too much independence to be -subject to the dictation of others. - -C. You think so, my dear fellow; but you don’t realize your own weakness. - -F. On the contrary, I am confident of my strength, and am willing to -wager you one hundred dollars against fifty that I will follow out any -plan you may promise to test my courage. - -C. I accept the stakes, and feel sure of winning them. Now what shall the -plan be? Let me see. (_Covers face with his hands for a moment—pauses._) -I have it. Frank, you must tend a peanut and apple stand in the Park for -one whole day. - -F. (_quickly_). I am willing to do it. - -C. (_emphatically_). Remember, you must tend it the whole day long, -without absenting yourself for any cause, except to take an hour for -dinner. - -F. I agree to that; nay, I will go further, and will promise to dine at -the stand. - -C. When shall the trial take place? - -F. As soon as possible, that you may know how well I shall succeed. Let -_to-morrow_ be the day. - -C. Very well; but there is to be one condition about the matter. No one -must suspect your reasons for doing this, as, in that case, there would -be no test at all. If you even hint anything about it, you will lose the -wager. - -F. I agree to that. - -C. Well, I’ll call round on you to-morrow, occasionally, to see how you -make out in the new business. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II. _In the Park. Two apple-stands at the back of stage. - They are several feet apart, and presided over by BRIDGET - MURPHY, R., and KATE O’CALLAHAN, L. Enter FRANK BURLEY, who - stands a little in front, but between them, gazing first at one - and then at the other._ - -MRS. O’CALLAHAN (_rising—with her knitting in her hand_). Some peanuts, -sir, or apples—nice apples three cents apiece? - -MRS. MURPHY (_wiping apples on apron_). Here’s where you’ll find your -nice apples—three cents apiece, and a good deal bigger than the other -woman’s. - -F. (_approaching MRS. M.’S stand_). What will you sell your whole stock -to me for, my good woman? - -MRS. M. (_regarding him attentively_). And what do the likes of you want -of it? - -F. I want to buy your stock, and tend this stand to-day. - -MRS. M. (_doubtfully_). Honor bright? - -F. Yes. To-morrow you can have it back again, and I’ll give you the stock -that’s left over. - -MRS. M. (_shrewdly_). What’ll you give for it? - -F. I don’t know what it’s worth, but I’ll give you ten dollars for the -lot. - -MRS. M. (_quickly_). You can have ’em all for that. - -MRS. O’C. That’s four times more’n they’re all worth. - -MRS. M. You’d better mind yer own business, O’Callahan. There comes a boy -that wants an apple maybe. (_Boy comes in, looks at apples and passes -out._) - -F. You’ll have to tell me how you sell the things. I don’t know anything -about the prices. - -MRS. M. The apples are three cents apiece. Some of the peaches are three -cents, and some two cents, and them bananas are ten cents apiece. If you -sell a dozen of ’em at once, you’ll sell at a little less price. - -F. That’ll do. I guess I shall get along well now. - -MRS. M. Shan’t I lend you my apron to shine the apples with? - -F. No, I thank you; I guess they look well enough. - -(_MRS. M. went out, L., going past MRS. O’C.’S stand, and holding the -bill which she had received exultingly towards her. JAMES enters, L._) - -JAMES (_to O’C._). How do you sell your apples? - -MRS. O’C. Three cents apiece. - -J. (_to F._). How do _you_ sell _yours_? - -F. Two cents apiece. - -J. Well as yours are bigger and lower priced I’ll take four of them. -(_Takes them and pays for them and exit._) - -(_Several other persons pass in and buy of FRANK, to all of whom he sells -under price._) - -MRS. O’C. (_coming towards him with threatening gestures_). What do you -mean by coming here, and interfering with a respectable woman? - -F. I am not interfering with you. - -MRS. O’C. Aint you, though? I call it interferin’ with my rights when you -come and sell your apples under price. - -F. I’ll tell you what it is, my good woman, I’ve sold most of my apples, -and I will buy some of yours. - -MRS. O’C. (_somewhat mollified_). And what’ll ye pay me for them? - -F. Three cents apiece. - -MRS. O’C. (_surprised_). And you’re goin’ to sell ’em agin for two cents? - -F. Yes, there’s nothing like keeping trade lively. - -MRS. O’C. Well, you’re the quairest man I ever did see. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_MRS. BURLEY’S parlor. MRS. B. present, R. MRS. - STOCKBRIDGE and MRS. WHEELER enter L. They cross the room and - shake hands cordially with MRS. B._ - -MRS. STOCKBRIDGE. How do you do, my dear Mrs. Burley? - -MRS. WHEELER (_to MRS. B._) How do you do? I am delighted to see you -looking so well. - -MRS. BURLEY. Thank you; I am well, and glad to see you both. Take seats, -won’t you? - -MRS. S. (_aside to MRS. W._) _She_ doesn’t know of it, I’m sure. (_To -MRS. B._) Have you heard the news about Mr. Walters? - -MRS. B. (_interested._) No. What is it? - -MRS. S. He is hopelessly insane. - -MRS. B. That is very sad. But what was the cause? - -MRS. S. Overwork, I believe. Is it not so, Mrs. Wheeler? - -MRS. W. That is the report, and it is said his wife doesn’t dare to be -alone with him. - -MRS. S. I heard that, yesterday, he jumped from a window in the second -story, and injured himself very much. - -MRS. B. How shocking! - -MRS. W. He said he intended to kill himself, and was sorry he didn’t. - -MRS. B. No wonder his wife feels timid. I dare say he will make another -attempt at suicide. - -MRS. W. There’s no doubt of it. In fact he told his wife so. - -MRS. S. He has threatened her life too; several times I believe. (_To -MRS. B. in significant tone._) By the way, Mrs. Burley, is _your_ husband -well? - -MRS. B. (_startled_). Certainly. But why do you ask? - -MRS. S. Oh, I merely inquired. - -MRS. B. But you had some motive in asking. What was it? - -MRS. S. Tell her, Mrs. Wheeler. - -MRS. W. Oh, it’s nothing I dare say. Still, some things look a little -singular. - -MRS. B. (_anxiously_). Pray explain. - -MRS. S. Was your husband at home to dinner to-day? - -MRS. B. No, he said he should be too busy, and would dine down-town. - -MRS. S. He didn’t state the nature of his business, did he? - -MRS. B. No, but I supposed he was detained at the store. Do you know -anything of it? - -MRS. S. Yes; he’s been tending an apple-stand all day to-day. - -MRS. B. (_surprised_). It cannot be. You are surely mistaken. - -MRS. S. Not at all. It has been the town talk. - -MRS. B. (_meditatively_). It is very strange. - -MRS. S. Insanity is not hereditary in your husband’s family, is it? - -MRS. B. Oh, no; and yet—let me see. Yes, I am sure he told me that his -grandfather died insane. But Frank never could be in such a state. He has -too strong a mind for that. - -MRS. S. Still, you can’t help thinking it is a little singular. - -MRS. B. Ye—es. But I cannot credit it. It seems impossible. - -MRS. W. Suppose you walk down to the Park and satisfy yourself. - -MRS. B. (_eagerly_). I will do so if you will go with me. I am too -nervous to go alone. - -MRS. S. We are willing to accompany you. Is it not so, Mrs. Wheeler? - -MRS. W. Certainty. We could not desert you while you are in such trouble. - -MRS. B. (_excitedly_). I will get my bonnet at once. I will not detain -you but a moment. - - (_Exit MRS. B., R. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE IV.—_Same as Scene II., except that MR. B. has charge of - MRS. MURPHY’S stand. Enter JAMES, who examines fruit at each - of the stands. MRS. B. and two companions are seen at side - entrance, L., looking furtively at MR. B. They talk aside._ - -MRS. S. Arc you satisfied that it is he? - -MRS. B. Yes, it is certainty Frank; but (_perplexed_) what can he be -there for? - -MRS. S. Why don’t you ask him? - -MRS. B. I hardly know what to do. - -MRS. S. There are two gentlemen coming. Wait and see what they say. - -(_Enter MR. GOODENOW and MR. HENDERSON. MRS. B. beckons to policeman, and -talks with him._) - -MR. HENDERSON. Hallo, Mr. Burley; haven’t you got into a new business? - -MR. B. Yes, I have (_smiling_). - -MR. H. (_quizzically_). How do you enjoy it? - -MR. B. Very much, of course, or I should not have entered into it. - -MR. H. Going to make a permanent business of it? - -MR. B. Can’t tell till I have tried it a week or two. - -MR. H. (_amused_). Burley, you play your part well, that’s a fact. - -MR. B. (_in apparent surprise_). Play my part well! What do you mean? - -MR. H. Well, this is what I’ve got to say: If you are not tending this -stand you must be insane. (_Turning to MR. G._) Don’t you think so, -Goodenow? - -MR. GOODENOW. It looks like it, certainly. (_Enter MRS. G. and her -friends, L._) Ah! here comes Mrs. Burley. - -(_MR. G. and MR. H. gaze at them with curiosity. MR. B. looks -apprehensively._) - -MRS. B. What are you doing, Frank? - -MR. B. Tending an apple-stand, my love. - -MRS. B. And pray what do you mean by disgracing your family in such a way? - -F. I don’t see any disgrace about it. A dollar earned in this way is as -good as one gained in Pearl street. - -MRS. O’C. (_who has been listening interestedly_). An’ it’s little enough -money you’ll make out of this business. Sure an’ the sooner you give up -yer stand the richer you’ll be. - -JAMES (_to F._). Here you, I say give me two of them bananas. (_Pays for -them, and exit, eating._) - -MRS. B. (_aside to ladies_). Well, I can’t bear this any longer. -Something must be done. - -MRS. W. What shall it be? - -MRS. S. One can see plainly enough he is insane. - -MRS. B. (_turning to policeman_). You can see that he is evidently insane. - -POLICEMAN. He does act strange, don’t he? A rich merchant like him, to -tend an apple-stand! But what shall I do? - -MRS. B. I don’t know. This is probably the first stage of the disease. -I’m afraid he may become violent. - -P. Would you advise me to arrest him? - -MRS. B. (_whose thoughts revert to MR. WALTERS_). I am so distressed I -hardly know; but it seems as if he ought to be prevented from doing any -mischief. Perhaps it would be better to do so. That would bring matters -to a crisis, and we should know the worst. - -(_Policeman goes round and comes in at an entrance back of MR. B. -Before the latter realizes it, he is handcuffed. He starts up at once, -indignant._) - -MR. B. What do you mean by insulting me in this manner? Take these irons -off this instant. Do you hear? - -MRS. S. (_to MRS. B._). He is getting worse, you see. - -P. I couldn’t do it, my man. You better come with me. (_Takes him by the -shoulder._) - -MR. B. Stop. First tell me what all this means. - -P. Certainly. No gentleman in your position would think of leaving his -business and tending an apple-stand if he was in his right mind. So I -have put on these bracelets to prevent your doing any violence. - -MR. B. Ha, ha, ha! “So fades my dreams!” Goodenow, you must give me -credit for sustaining my part of the agreement, as far as I alone am -concerned. But circumstances have conspired against me. (_Turning to -his wife._) My friend and myself laid a wager that I had not sufficient -courage to tend an apple-stand one whole day without giving any -explanation thereof. In attempting to do this it seems I have laid -myself under suspicion of being insane. I therefore abdicate in favor of -Mrs. Bridget Murphy, trusting she may find the position a pleasant and -more lucrative one than I have done. (_He comes forward and MRS. MURPHY -enters and takes his place._) Henceforth, like a dutiful subject, I will -restrain all improper inclinations, and confess that, like my friends and -neighbors, I, too, am a slave of Mrs. Grundy. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -AUNT HANNAH’S VALENTINE. - - -DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. - - MRS. CYNTHIA LELAND, a Farmer’s Wife. - MRS. MONTGOMERY, a Friend and former Schoolmate of Mrs. L. - HANNAH LELAND, Mr. Leland’s Sister. - OBADIAH RAKESTRAW, a Bachelor. - CARRIE LELAND, Mrs. L.’s Daughter. - HERBERT WALTON, Carrie’s Lover. - ADOLPHUS FITZ-WILLIAM, Mrs. M.’s Nephew. - CALEB LELAND, Carrie’s Brother. - - - SCENE I.—_In the field. CARRIE enters, R._ - -CARRIE (_soliloquizing_). So Mrs. Montgomery’s nephew is coming to-day. -I hope he is agreeable. I wonder if he is engaged. It must be nice to -marry a rich man, and live in the city, and go to balls, parties, and -the theatre. I don’t understand why Mrs. Montgomery doesn’t feel so. She -married a merchant, and can live in fine style in the city, but yet she -prefers the country. And to-day her nephew is coming here. He thinks -people on a farm are countrified, but I guess we can show him they are -not all so. I’ve a good mind to flirt with him a little, by way of -variety. I don’t believe it would be very difficult to captivate him. -Perhaps, I can teach him a lesson. (_Enter HERBERT, L., with a rake in -his hand._) Ah, Herbert—just going to work? - -HERBERT. Yes. Won’t you go, too? - -CAR. What inducement have you to offer? - -H. A ride home on the hay after it is put into the wagon. - -CAR. That might be sufficient sometimes, but not now, for I must hurry -home. Do you know, Herbert, we are to have a new-comer at our house, this -afternoon? - -H. No. Who is it? - -CAR. Mrs. Montgomery’s nephew. Adolphus Fitz-William is his name, I -believe. His aunt says he has never been in the country at all, and he -thinks farmers’ families are countrified to the last degree. She has his -picture, and it looks very foppish. - -H. And he is coming to-day, is he? - -CAR. Yes; he’s expected in the first afternoon train, and it’s about time -for that to be here. (_Hears a step, and turns toward L._) I guess that’s -he now. I must go. (_She hurries out, R._) - -(_ADOLPHUS enters, L. He wears eye-glasses, and carries a cane; speaks -affectedly._) - -ADOLPHUS. Can you tell me, aw, where Fawmer Leland lives, Jawnathan? - -H. (_leaning carelessly on rake—aside_). I think I’ll humor him. -(_Aloud._) Wal, there now, who’d ’a’ thought you’d known what my name -was? Who told yer? - -A. (_disdainfully_). You’re vewy familiah. Do you know where Fawmer -Leland lives? - -H. (_eagerly_). You aint come to court his daughter, be ye? - -A. Ah, has he a daughter? - -H. He has that, an’ a pooty one, too. Rosy cheeks an’ bright eyes she’s -got. I tell ye, she’s harnsome. I think some o’ sparkin’ her myself. - -A. (_contemptuously_). You, aw! Impossible! She wouldn’t look at such a -fellaw. - -H. You dunno. Love goes whar it’s sent, an’ mebbe it’ll be sent to me. - -A. But, aw, you haven’t answered my question. Can you tell me, aw, where -Fawmer Leland lives? - -H. Oh, yes, I remember. But, ’say, did yer come from the city to-day? - -A. No, aw didn’t. - -H. Is that so? I swar, I thought yer did—yer look so ’mazin’ spruce. How -long be yer goin’ to stay, now? - -A. No mattaw. - -H. Sho, now, don’t go ter gittin’ mad over it. - -A. (_angrily_). Will you tell me, aw, where Fawmer Leland lives or will -you not, aw? - -H. In course I will; but you needn’t git so mighty mad. Ye haint asked me -yit. - -A. (_emphatically_). I’ve asked you fower sevewal times. - -H. It’s no sich a thing. Ye asked me if I could tell yer where he lived -and ef I knowed where he lived. In course I couldn’t arnser a question -’fore ’twas put. I was eddicated to be perlite even ter my inferiors. -When yer _ask_ the question, I’ll arnser it. - -A. (_in a loud voice_). You impertinent fellaw, where does Fawmer Leland -live? - -H. Don’t go to puttin’ on airs, now. D’ye see them chimblys over there? -(_pointing R._). - -A. Yes, aw do. - -H. Well, then, make a bee-line for ’em. Them’s the chimblys to Farmer -Leland’s house. (_Exit A., R._ _H., solus._) If he’d been a civil feller, -I’d ’a’ shown him the path. Now he’ll have to climb four rickety stone -walls, and I dunno as how he can do it safely with them tight breeches -on. But I must go to work. _Tempus fuggit_, as the schoolmaster says. - - (_Exit, L., with rake on his shoulder. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_MRS. LELAND’S sitting-room. CALEB, sitting, R. C., - peeling apples. CARRIE, L. C., dusting furniture. Enter AUNT - HANNAH, R._ - -AUNT HANNAH (_in a complaining tone_). Well, I declare, haint you begun -your baking yet, Car’line? It’s nigh onto noon, and you won’t get dinner -ready in season. - -CAR. Well, you know I can’t make my pies till the apples are ready. -You’ll have to talk to Caleb. I’ve been trying to hurry him. - -A. H. (_to CAL., severely_). I should be ashamed, if I was a boy, to be -so long peeling a few apples. - -CAL. Oh, what’s the use in hurrying? There’s plenty of time. - -A. H. (_testily_). In my young days things didn’t go on so. Good -house-keepers got their bakin’ done by eight o’clock in the morning. They -didn’t spend all day in the kitchen, as they do now. - -CAR. Don’t be troubled, Aunt Hannah; everything will be finished early, -and dinner on the table at the usual time. - -A. H. Well, I hope ’twill, but things don’t look much like it now. - - (_Exit A. H., L._) - -CAL. Aunt Hannah is never happy except when she’s finding fault with -somebody. She’s gone off mad, and I’m glad of it. I hope she’ll stay away. - -(_Enter ADOLPHUS, L._) - -ADOLPHUS. I’ve been looking for you, Miss Carwy. Will you, aw, go out and -walk with me this morning? - -CAR. I don’t think I could. Mother is away, you know, and I have all the -housework to do. - -A. Couldn’t I, aw, assist you, so you could go? - -CAR. I think not. I’m afraid there’s none of my work that you could do. - -CAL. (_shaking his head in a significant way_). You jest make me that -offer, Mr. Fitz. I’ll warrant you I won’t refuse. I know you’ll be able -to do _my_ work. And I can show you round a great deal better than Carrie -can. - -(_A. deigns no reply to CAL., but gazes earnestly at CAR._) - -CAR. I declare, I’m afraid my bread is burning. I nearly forgot it. -(_Goes out, R._) - -CAL. Heigho! I don’t feel like peeling apples. I guess I’ll see what girl -loves me best. (_Lifts the entire skin of an apple, which he has taken -off in one long strip, and swings it slowly three times round his head, -then drops it on the floor behind him. He stoops and examines it eagerly, -then claps his hands._) Sure’s the world, that’s an L, an’ stands for -Lizy Blake. I was most sure ’twould be so. That sign always comes true. - -A. (_who had been looking on with interest_). What are you doing, aw, -Caleb? - -CAL. I’ve been finding out who was my true love. Want to try your hand at -it? - -A. (_glancing round to see that no one else is present_). Well, aw, I -might try. - -CAL. That one’s broken, but I’ll soon make you another. (_Takes an apple, -peels it, and passes the skin to A. The latter swings it very awkwardly -round his head, staggering as he endeavors to do so without breaking it. -At last he drops it on the floor behind him._) - -CAL. I declare, Mr. Fitz, you’re about as graceful as a cow. - -A. (_unheeding his remark, and examining the skin, which lay curled up on -the floor_). That’s a C, aw, plain enough. - -CAL. (_looking at it closely_). It’s an exact H. Who can that stand for? -Oh, I know. It must be that you’re going to marry Aunt Hannah. - -A. What do you mean, aw, by such a fawlshood? (_Attempts to strike CAL. -with his cane, but CAL. leaps behind a chair, which he lifts, and uses as -a protection. Enter CAR._) - -CAR. Why, what’s the matter? - -CAL. Nothing, only Mr. Fitz has been telling me who his sweetheart is, -and he don’t like it ’cause I won’t promise not to tell anybody. - -CAR. You’d better go out in the kitchen, and finish your work. I’m in a -hurry for the apples. - - (_Exit, CAL., R. CAR. sits down, C._) - -A. You must be tired, aw, with your labors. - -CAR. Oh no, indeed; but I am waiting for that lazy Caleb to finish the -apples, so I can be making my pies. - -A. (_deliberately spreading his handkerchief upon the floor before her, -and kneeling upon it_). Miss Leland—Carwy, I have long sought, aw, this -opportunity to confess, aw, my love for you. Do not deny me, aw, and doom -me to dwead despair. - -(_A sound of approaching footsteps is heard._) - -CAR. (_hurriedly_). Mr. Fitz-William, rise, I beseech you. - -A. Not until you give me a favorable answer to my suit. - -CAR. I cannot—I—(_Enter CAL., R. A. rises._) - -CAL. (_laughs quite loud_). Ha! ha! ha! (_Enter MRS. MONTGOMERY and AUNT -HANNAH, L._) - -MRS. MONTGOMERY. What can be the matter? - -A. H. What’s all this noise about? Anybody’d think the house was afire, -to hear such a racket. - -A. It’s that impertinent young wascal, aw, who’s been scweaming like a -locomotive whistle. - -CAL. Who wouldn’t ’a’ laughed, if they’d come in, as I did, and seen Mr. -Fitz-William on his knees asking Carrie to marry him? - -MRS. M. Why, Adolphus, I thought you were engaged to Helen Lindsay, who -lives in the city. - -CAL. And ’twarn’t more’n ten minutes ago that he spoke about marryin’ -Aunt Hannah. (_The spinster smiles benignantly._) - -A. I did not, aw. I’d sooner marwy Beelzebub’s daughtaw than such a -she-dwagon. - -A. H. (_seizing a broom and chasing him around the stage._) You would, -would ye? Then, you just git out o’ this house. You shan’t stay in it a -minute longer. - -CAL. (_waving his hand_). That’s it, Aunt Hannah. Pitch into him lively. -Go ahead, an’ I’ll help yer. - - (_Exit A., L., followed by A. H. and CALEB._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_The same. Time, six months later. MRS. LELAND, - sitting at table, R. C., and CALEB, L. C. Enter AUNT HANNAH, R._ - -A. H. (_going to MRS. L._). Is this stockin’ goin’ to be large enough for -Calup? - -MRS. LELAND (_examining stocking_). I guess so. It is larger than the -last pair. - -CAL. Aunt Hannah thinks my understanding is increasing pretty fast. - -A. H. (_bluntly_). It’s a pity ’taint your politeness instid o’ your feet -that’s agrowin’. - -MRS. L. (_looking up_). Take another chair, Caleb, and let your aunt have -the rocking-chair. - -CAL. (_rising and taking another chair_). Of course—age before good looks. - -A. H. (_sinking down into rocking-chair_). In my day, children warn’t -allowed to make fun of their relations. - -MRS. L. Caleb doesn’t mean anything, Aunt Hannah, but he ought not to -speak so. - -A. H. (_severely_). P’r’aps he don’t. This aint the fust time he’s been -sassy to me. - -CAL. Well, why can’t you be jolly, like other folks? I have to make fun -so’s to make up for your lookin’ an’ talkin’ so dismal. - -A. H. (_sighing_). Well, I shan’t always be here to trouble you with my -looks. When I’m gone, maybe you’ll wish you hadn’t laughed at me as you -have. (_Bell rings._) - -CAL. (_eagerly_). There’s the door-bell. Shall I go, mother? - -MRS. L. Yes, for I must go upstairs to get some pieces to mend this coat -with. - - (_Exit_, R.) - -(_CAL. goes out, L., and immediately returns with a letter. He pretends -to be studying the address._) - -CAL. M-m-iss Lel-land. - -A. H. Calup, that letter’s for me. Give it to me this minute. - -CAL. (_holding it behind him_). It aint a letter; it’s a valentine. It’s -got all sorts of pretty figures on the envelope. Promise, Aunt Hannah, -that you’ll let me see the inside of it, and I’ll give it to you right -off. - -A. H. (_rising, and laying knitting on the table_). I shan’t make any -promises. Give me that letter, Calup. (_CAL. runs round stage with -letter. His aunt, running after him, tries in vain to catch him._) - -MRS. L. (_from outside_). Ca-leb! Ca-leb! - -CAL. (_darting across the room in a tantalizing way, lays letter on the -table_). By the time you get it read, Aunt Hannah, I’ll be back all ready -to see it. - - (_Exit, R._) - -A. H. (_takes letter eagerly, and sits down, L. C._). It is a valentine, -as sure as I’m alive. Who could have sent it? (_Reads._) - - “My dearest One: This is St. Valentine’s, the day when every - person is privileged to write tender epistles to their loved - ones. So I have seated myself to write to you. I did think of - asking you a question which my past attentions have, no doubt, - led you to expect. But, on second thoughts, I have concluded to - call on you and ask the question in person. I am sure you will - have no difficulty in recognizing - - “YOUR DEVOTED VALENTINE.” - -A. H. (_laying valentine on table, sits back in chair, clasps her -hands together, rocking, and apparently meditating_). Well, there’s a -perspective proposal, and I’m sure it couldn’t come from anybody but -Obadiah Rakestraw. His mother’s just died, and he used to go to singing -school with me when I was a girl (_complacently_), and he’ll be here -to-night. I guess I’ll go and fix up a little, as long as he’s sent me -word he’s coming. - - (_Exit A. H., R. Enter CARRIE by same door._) - -CAR. (_soliloquizing_). Oh, dear, how unhappy I am! it is six months -since Herbert went away, and I know it was because he thought I liked -that popinjay Adolphus. Of course, he doesn’t know that it was nothing -but a flirtation, and that I couldn’t endure the sight of Adolphus -afterwards. I didn’t think Herbert would have gone off so suddenly, -without even writing me a note to say he was going. Six months ago, and -I’ve been so miserable all this weary time! (_Suddenly sees the letter._) -What’s this, a valentine, addressed to Miss Leland? Why, that’s my name, -and, of course, I have a right to read it. (_Opens it, and notices -contents._) Yes, it was intended for me, and is in Herbert’s handwriting -(_joyfully_), and he is to be here this evening! But how came it opened? -(_With sudden thought._) It must be that Aunt Hannah has opened and read -it, thinking it was intended for her. I guess I’ll place the letter where -I found it (_lays it down_), and leave the room till the time comes for -Herbert to arrive. - - (_Exit CARRIE, L., and enter CALEB, R._) - -CAL. Well, that’s pretty treatment, for Aunt Hannah to go off when I told -her partic’larly I was coming right back; and most likely she has carried -the valentine with her. (_Looking round, his gaze falls on the letter._) -No, she hasn’t, either. By George! she was quite good, for her. (_Takes -letter, which he opens and reads. Looks up with ludicrous expression._) -So Aunt Hannah has really got a beau! Who can he be? I guess he don’t -know her as well as some folks do. Let’s see (_Consulting the letter._) -He’s coming here to-night to ask her that question. It’ll be worth a -great deal to see anybody making love to Aunt Hannah. How can I manage -to be round to see how it’s done? (_Looks around._) Oh, this is just -the thing. (_Goes behind a curtain, which he draws, thereby concealing -himself. A. H., dressed in black silk and wearing a gay headdress, -enters, R._) - -A. H. (_taking letter, which she puts in her pocket_). Well, there, I was -rather ventur’som in leaving this valentine on the table. It’s a wonder -that Calup didn’t come in an’ get hold of it. If he had, I’d never have -heard the last of it. (_A knock at the door, L. A. H. opens it, and -ushers in OBADIAH RAKESTRAW._) - -A. H. Good evening, Mr. Rakestraw. - -OBADIAH RAKESTRAW. Good-evening, Miss Leland. So you’re all alone -this evening. (_They sit down with their backs to CALEB’S place of -concealment._) - -A. H. Yes, I happen to be just now, but I suppose the rest of the folks -will be in soon. (_Aside._) I wonder if he won’t take the hint. - -CAL. (_aside._) Oh, my! aint she sly? - -O. R. I thought I’d just come in and make a neighborly call this evening. - -A. H. Just so. I’m glad the spirit took ye. It be kind o’ lonesome for -you at home. - -O. R. Wall, ’tis so sometimes. - -A. H. Ye ought to get married. - -O. R. I’m afraid nobody’d have me. - -A. H. Oh, you’re too shy. There’s nothin’ like tryin’. To-night is St. -Valentine’s, and there aint no time like the present. All ye’ve got to do -is jest ask the question. I’ll warrant you’ll get a favorable answer. - -CAL. (_aside_). Don’t she drive business? - -O. R. Wall, I’ve a good mind to take your advice. As you say, ’tis kind -o’ lonesome, an’ I can’t more’n get refused (_rising_); so I’ll jest go -over an’ ask Hitty Trumbull if she’ll marry me. - -A. H. (_indignantly, rising_). Mehitable Trumbull! You don’t mean you’re -going to offer yourself to her. - -O. R. That’s jest what I mean. - -A. H. Well, it’s downright dishonorable treatment, after the letter you -sent me to-day. - -O. R. (_surprised_). I haven’t sent you any letter. - -A. H. (_taking it from pocket_). Didn’t you write that valentine? - -O. R. (_glancing over it_). I never saw it before; and, between you and -me, I don’t think it was intended for you. - -A. H. Do you mean to insult me by saying I open other folks’ letters? - -O. R. Not exactly, but I think this was written to your niece. It aint -the kind o’ valentine one would be likely to send to a person of your age. - -A. H. (_in a high tone_). You mean to twit me about my age, do you? I’ll -just let you know that I’m six years younger than Mehitable Trumbull. But -I won’t listen to any more of your insultin’ remarks; so just leave this -house, or I’ll call somebody to help you. - -O. R. It’s lucky I didn’t offer to marry you, as you asked me to. I see -your temper hasn’t improved any since we used to go to singing-school -together. - - (_Exit O. R., L. A. H., almost frantic, paces back and forth._) - -A. H. The villain! to treat me so. But it’s lucky none of the folks know -anything about it. I must change my dress before any of them come in. - - (_Exit A. H., R._) - -CAL. (_coming forward_). Wasn’t that rich? To think of Aunt Hannah, who -“wouldn’t marry the best man living,” offering herself, and then, after -all, that her love should be refused. (_Voices outside._) But who’s that? -Perhaps, she’s coming back again. She mustn’t find me here. (_Hides -behind the curtain. Enter HERBERT and CARRIE, talking earnestly._) - -CAR. It was only by accident that I happened to see your letter at all. -Aunt Hannah received and read it, and thought it was sent to her. - -H. Who could she have supposed sent it? - -CAR. I don’t know, I’m sure. - -CAL. (_peeping out, aside_). I know all about it. - -H. But you haven’t answered the question it contained. - -CAR. (_demurely_). Did it contain one? I thought the note said you -intended to ask a question; but, as you didn’t do so, I supposed you’d -changed your mind. - -H. You needn’t pretend ignorance. I can’t propose with the same grace -that Adolphus did, but you can’t help knowing that I meant to ask you to -marry me. (_Taking her hand._) Will you be my wife, Carrie? - -CAR. (_archly_). I suppose it wouldn’t do to say anything but “Yes,” -especially as, if I refuse, I couldn’t return your letter, since Aunt -Hannah has taken possession of it. - -H. I shouldn’t be satisfied with any other answer. Now, let’s go and tell -your mother about it, and then we’ll set the wedding day. - - (_Exeunt, arm in arm._) - -CAL. (_coming forward_). Well that was a little addition I didn’t expect. -I’ve always wondered how folks popped the question, but I’ve found out -all about it, and now I can do it like a book. I guess I’ll go down and -see ’Lizy Blake before I forget how it’s done. If she says “Yes” we’ll -have a loaf of wedding-cake as big as our new school-house. (_With sudden -thought_) I don’t know though, but I ought to write a valentine, and send -to her, first, to let her know I’m coming. That’s the way Herbert did. -But then, just as likely as not, her aunt Lizy’d get it, thinking ’twas -for her. She’s cross-eyed, an’ wears false hair an’ store teeth, an’ I -couldn’t have her on my hands. No, I guess I’ll go right down, an’ do my -sparkin’ in good style, an’ wind up by askin’ ’Lizy if _I_ shan’t be her -Valentine. - - (_Exit L. Curtain falls._) - - - - -MR. BLISS’ VISION. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MR. HIRAM BLISS, A Wealthy Bachelor. - DICK WELLINGTON, His Nephew and Prospective Heir. - MRS. MARIAN PAYNE, A Widow. - SERVANT. - - - SCENE I.—_MR. BLISS’ parlor. MR. B. present, pacing back and - forth._ - -MR. BLISS (_soliloquizing_). Sixty years old to-day! Well, well, how -time passes! It seems but yesterday since I was a lad, going to school, -and making love to the girls, instead of studying the lessons which -Master Winthrop gave out. It seems strange how persons change as they -grow older. Then, I was a favorite with the girls, and always escorted -one or more to every party, husking, or apple-bee. Now, when called upon -to entertain a marriageable person of the other sex, I’m thrown into a -decided flutter. It’s ridiculous for one of my age and experience, but -still it is a lamentable fact. There was Minnie Warren, a blue-eyed -little fairy to whom I got very much attached; in tact, we were engaged. -I believe if she hadn’t left Cherryville as she did, I should have -finally married her. I was indignant enough when I heard that her father -had bought the Union Mills, and the family were going to leave town. She -finally married, I heard, and made some man happy. (_A pause._) Well, -some say every one has their share of good and ill fortune; but the fact -is, I believe that some are fated to be happy, and some to be miserable -in this world. - -DICK (_entering, L._). Hallo, uncle; have you got the blues? What right -have you to talk about being miserable—you, who have everything that -wealth can procure to make you happy? - -MR. B. I know I have everything comfortable here, but the fact is, Dick, -I’m lonely in this great house. You, who pass most of your time in a -store, with people constantly coming and going, take pleasure in spending -a week or two in a quiet place, and among new scenes; but there’s no -novelty in it to me, who have lived here for twenty years with no one in -the house but servants. - -D. It must be rather lonesome to live here all the time (_glancing -furtively at his companion_). I expect you’ll be marrying one of these -days, uncle. - -MR. B. I might have done so once, but it’s too late now. I’ve got settled -down in my bachelor ways, and cannot depart from them. - -D. (_mischievously_). You may be forced to depart from them, uncle. - -MR. B. (_alarmed_). What do you mean, Dick? - -D. You remember the widow Payne, that we have met several times lately? - -MR. B. (_interested_). Yes. What of her? - -D. She has been heard to express a very favorable opinion of you. - -MR. B. That amounts to nothing. - -D. But you know that this is leap year, when ladies are privileged to -propose. - -MR. B. (_startled_). But you don’t think she would do such a thing? - -D. (_solemnly_). It is impossible to say. She is a widow, and you know -the race of men has been warned, by an astute observer of human nature, -to beware of that class of humanity. If she has any sympathy with the -“Woman’s Rights” movement, I’m afraid you’re fated, uncle. - -MR. B. I couldn’t stand that. But what shall I do, Dick? Leave town? - -D. There wouldn’t be any use in that, unless you staid away the remainder -of the year. - -MR. B. (_nervously_). I couldn’t do that. - -D. Then be courageous and bear it like a man. Of course you’d refuse the -honor (_questioningly_)? - -MR. B. Of course I should. I wouldn’t accept under any consideration. - -D. Then that’s all settled. But if you should get into any kind of a -scrape, just let me know, and I’ll get you out of it—trust me, uncle. - -MR. B. Well, I think I will. No doubt you know more about those things -than I do. - -D. (_smiling_). I dare say I do. - -MR. B. (_rising_). Well, I must go and take my morning walk. Will you go -too? - -D. (_rising_). Yes; where shall we go? - -MR. B. We might as well go and call on the widow, and take a survey of -the situation, as I don’t mean to be entrapped by any of her wiles. - -D. (_sharply scrutinizing MR. B.—aside_). I must look out for this uncle -of mine. He may himself propose to the widow, instead of her proposing -to him, and that would be death to my prospects. I must look out and not -lose the property. (_Takes out a couple of cigars, which he offers to his -uncle.—Aloud._) Have a cigar, uncle? - -MR. B.—Thank you, I don’t care if I do. (_Takes one._) - - (_Exeunt, L. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_The same. Time, evening. MR. BLISS sits alone, R., - with his feet resting on the table, smoking and reading the - evening paper. A lady (DICK disguised as MRS. PAYNE) enters L., - wearing bonnet and shawl, and closely veiled. MR. BLISS starts - up in excitement and offers his hand._ - -MR. B. Good-evening, Mrs. Payne. I am very happy to see you. (_Leads her -to a seat._) Lay aside your bonnet and shawl, won’t you? - -MRS. PAYNE. No, I thank you. I cannot stop long. I only came in to make a -call. - -MR. B. I am afraid this smoke is offensive to you. - -MRS. P. Oh, not at all. I enjoy the fragrance of a good cigar. - -(_MR. B. lays down his cigar._) - -MRS. P. It is quite cool out, this evening. - -MR. B. Yes—no—that is, it may be—but I haven’t been out this evening. - -MRS. P. I haven’t seen you at our house for several days. - -MR. B. (_nervously_). No—I—have been very busy and couldn’t come, but -have thought of you, and meant to come. - -MRS. P. So you have thought of me. I am glad of that. I have thought of -you, also. - -MR. B. (_startled_). Ah! Th—thank you, but— - -MRS. P. (_interrupting_). I dare say you couldn’t guess my errand -to-night. - -MR. B. (_nervously_). Oh—no, of course not. - -MRS. P. I have long loved you, and have felt certain that I was not -disagreeable to you—and, knowing your timidity, I have availed myself of -the privileges of Leap Year to come and offer myself to you. (_Rises and -throws her arms around his neck._) Hiram, I love you,—do you reciprocate -my affection? - -MR. B. (_almost overpowered, and looking around, nervously_). I—I—must -take time to think of it—it is so sudden. - -MRS. P. It may be sudden—and yet why delay our happiness? (_Her head -droops on his shoulder._) - -MR. B. I—I need time to consider (_a sound of approaching footsteps is -heard_)—I—I must go—let me go. I have an engagement at nine. - -MRS. P. Then give your consent to our marriage. - -MR. B. (_struggling frantically to free himself_). I cannot—I—(_a sound -is heard as of a person at the door_). Let me go—let me go—(_in an -imploring tone_) quick—somebody’s coming. - -MRS. P. Say yes, then, dearest Hiram. - -MR. B. (_in an agony of fear_). Yes, yes—anything, if you will only -leave me. (_MRS. P. imprints an audible kiss upon his forehead and turns -to leave the room. Apparently by mistake she grasps the bell-knob and -pulls it vigorously. She goes out by one door, L., as servant enters by -another, R._) - -SERVANT. Did you ring, sir? - -MR. B. Ring? N—no. I don’t wish for anything. - -S. That’s strange. The bell rang distinctly, and so loud that I thought -you was in a hurry. - -MR. B. Well, it’s of no consequence. I don’t need anything. - - (_Exit SERVANT, R._) - -MR. B. (_pacing the room and soliloquizing_). What have I done? Engaged -myself to this widow, notwithstanding all my resolutions to the contrary. -But something must be done about it. What shall it be? I might leave -town—but that would be cowardly. Besides, I shouldn’t want to shut up -the house. I might write, saying I had changed my mind; but I’m afraid -that wouldn’t be just the thing. (_Paces back and forth a few moments -without speaking._) The fact is, I shall be obliged to marry the widow. -There seems to be no other way left me, after giving my promise to her. -But I won’t say a word to Dick about it. (_A pause._) After all, I might -do a worse thing. She would be a credit to my establishment, and the -presence of a woman _would_ brighten up the house. I guess I must go -there in the morning and talk the matter over. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_MRS. PAYNE’S sitting-room. MRS. PAYNE present - sewing, R. MR. BLISS enters, L._ - -MRS. P. Good-morning, Mr. Bliss. - -MR. B. Good-morning, and a charming morning it is. I came, Mrs. Payne, to -speak further on the matter we were talking of last evening. - -MRS. P. Last evening? You mean a week ago. - -MR. B. No, I mean last evening. - -MRS. P. But you were not here last evening. - -MR. B. (_perplexed_). Certainly not; but you called on me. - -MRS. P. What do you mean, Mr. Bliss? - -MR. B. (_smiling_). I mean that you made a leap-year call on me last -evening, and offered me your heart and hand, which I accepted. - -MRS. P. (_casting down her eyes_). I am sorry to dispute you, but I had a -severe headache last evening, and did not leave the house. - -MR. B. (_in a disappointed tone_). Is that so? But certainly some one -bearing your semblance called on me last evening. (_A pause._) It must -have been one of Dick’s harum-scarum tricks. - -MRS. P. No doubt it was. He is full of mischief. - -MR. B. Mrs. Payne— - -MRS. P. (_smiling_). Well, Mr. Bliss. - -MR. B. (_fidgeting nervously_). Couldn’t we make my vision of last -evening a reality? - -MRS. P. Possibly we might, if you desired it very much. But I’m afraid -you haven’t counted the cost. You have been a bachelor so long, that you -might soon tire of a wife, and consider her an intruder. - -MR. B. I am satisfied it would not be so. Besides it seems as if I had -known you before; where can I have met you? - -MRS. P. Why, don’t you remember? I knew you at once—I was formerly Minnie -Warren. - -MR. B. Then I claim you by right of an engagement made between us -forty-six years ago—when you were twelve and I was fourteen. Have you -forgotten it? - -MRS. P. Oh, no, I remember it perfectly well; and how I cried when we -left town because you could not go too. - -MR. B. (_drawing his chair nearer and placing his arm around her_). -There is a good deal of change in the age and size of your lover as he -was and as he is. Are you not afraid of repenting if you should marry him? - -MRS. P. (_archly_). Oh, no. It is a good trade to exchange a little Payne -for a greater bliss. I am satisfied as far as I am concerned. - -DICK (_entering, L._). Hallo! What’s all this? I’m afraid I’m intruding. -(_Looks anxiously at his companions._) - -MR. B. Not at all. Allow me to present you to your future aunt. - -DICK (_bowing low—aside_). There’s my inheritance gone to the dogs, and -by my own act. (_Aloud to uncle._) This is something new, isn’t it? How -did it all come about? - -MR. B. (_significantly_). I had a leap-year vision last evening, and have -concluded, this morning, to make it a reality. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS. - - -DRAMATIS PERSONÆ. - - MISS EVELYN MONTAGUE, A lady of Wealth. - KATY MAGUIRE, ⎫ - ANN FLAHERTY, ⎪ - BRIDGET MAGLONE, ⎬ Her Servants. - MARY FINNEGAN, ⎪ - JAMES DUNN, ⎪ - PAT. GARVEY, ⎭ - ELLEN SWEENY, ⎫ - JULIA GRIFFIN, ⎬ Servants of Mrs. Bradley. - CORNY REILLY, ⎭ - - - SCENE I.—_MISS EVELYN’S chamber. KATY MAGUIRE, R., dressed in - blue silk, standing before a mirror. She is putting on a lace - collar._ - -KATY. It is my private opinion that this blue dress is the purtiest of -the lot, an’ as long as Miss Evelyn won’t wear it, there’s no reason why -Katy Maguire shouldn’t. It won’t be long before it’ll be out of fashion; -an’ it might as well be doin’ a little good to somebody, first. - -(_She takes out from jewel-case several sets of jewelry, and fastens -them in conspicuous places on the waist of the dress. She puts all the -bracelets she can find on her wrists, and places around her neck a gold -chain, and also a string of cornelian beads. Taking a richly-embroidered -handkerchief in her hand, she gazes complacently at herself in the -mirror._) - -K. There, Katy Maguire (_courtesying to the image reflected_), you look -like a lady born and bred. If your mistress should see you now, she -wouldn’t need to ask if you was an experienced dressing-maid. There aint -many that shows such fine taste in dressin’, or has enough jewelry to -set off the dress with. What an ilegant trail it has, sure! (_glancing -complacently back at the dress, and taking two or three steps forward to -see the effect. Enter MARY, R._) - -MARY (_starting back in surprise_). Well, Katy, who ever’d ha’ thought of -this being you? What are you rigged up in Miss Evelyn’s finery for? - -K. (_loftily_). I am Miss Maguire, now, and I expect you’ll treat me -like a lady, as I am. I shall give a reception this evenin’ in the -drawin’-room, an’ when you go downstairs, you can invite Miss Flaherty, -Miss Maglone, an’ Mister Dunn to be present. An’ if Miss Flaherty thinks -best, she might send in to the next house, an’ invite our friends there -to come in. - -M. What do you suppose Miss Evelyn will say? - -K. (_sarcastically_). If you feel anxious to know ye might ask her when -she gets home. The entertainment’ll be over before that time. But yer -better be goin’ down now to deliver the invitation, as it’s gitting late -(_walks along a few steps, swinging her dress_). - -M. (_with a look of hatred which changes to a malicious smile_) I’ll be -after goin’, thin, Miss Maguire. (_With a mocking bow she leaves the -room, R._) - -K. It’s aisy to see that Mary is jealous of my good looks. But I pity the -poor crathur, for she’s as homely as a sick duck. I must go downstairs -now. It’s most time for James to be home from drivin’ Miss Evelyn to the -party. He’s a nice lad, an’ I’ll be much surprised if he aint took wid my -charms. - - (_Exit, R._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_Kitchen. ANN FLAHERTY, R., BRIDGET MAGLONE, R. C., - JAMES DUNN, L. C., and PAT. GARVEY, L., present. Enter MARY, L._ - -M. (_excitedly_). Well, I never seen sich doin’s before! (_All come -forward expectantly._) - -BRIDGET. An’ what is it, Mary? - -PATRICK (_eagerly_). What’s the row upstairs? Anybody kilt? - -M. Katy’s been up to Miss Evelyn’s chamber an’ rigged up in her clothes, -an’ she says she’s goin’ to give a grand party in the drawin’-room this -avenin’, an’ invites all to be prisint. - -JAMES (_rubbing his hands_). Ah! Katy’s a jew’l. - -ANN. Av course we’ll all accept the invitation. - -M. She says if ye thought best, he might sind in to the next house an’ -invite the frinds there. - -B. Sure an’ we _do_ think best. Pat., jist run over to Mr. Bradley’s an’ -ask the cook an’ all the rest to come over here an’ pass the avenin’. -We’re going to have a grand party here. Tell ’em to come right away. - -P. I’ll bring ’em all in, in five minutes. - - (_Exit L., swinging his hat._) - -M. An’ what d’ye think Miss Evelyn will say? - -B. Arrah now, Miss Evelyn will niver know anything about it. We’ll be all -through with the party before she comes home. - -A. Indade an’ ye may trust Katy to get through’t safely. She’s lived with -the quality before now, an’ knows how things is done. She’s shrewd, Katy -is. - -J. That’s thrue for you. An’ how can Miss Evelyn come home till I go -after her? She tould me to have the carriage there at half-past twelve -o’clock, an’ it isn’t ulleven yit. - -A. I’m thinkin’ we ought to have a trate before the party is over. - -B. Av coorse we must have some refrishments. - -J. I ixpect you ladies can manage that. - -A. We’ve got plinty o’ presarves and cake an’ wine. But we’ll want some -ice-crame. - -J. I’ll furnish that same. I’ll sind Pat. for it whin he comes back. - -B. Thin we’ll go upstairs now. - -A. The rest of yez go, an’ I’ll lay the table all ready for the trate. It -won’t be long before I’ll be wid yez. - - (_Exit all but ANN. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_MISS EVELYN’S drawing-room. KATY seated on sofa, - C., with the skirts of her dress spread out so as to make as - great a display as possible. Enter ANN, BRIDGET, MARY and - JAMES, R. All but MARY make low bows to her. She acknowledges - the salutations by a slight inclination of her head._ - -J. This must be a very select party, when Miss Maguire didn’t invite more -persons to be prisint. - -B. Sure we don’t know how many invitations she has sint out. Fashionable -people don’t come very airly. We’ll have more byme-by. (_Bell rings._) -They’re beginnin’ to arrive now. - -K. Misther Dunn ye’ll oblige me by goin’ to the door, if ye plaze. - -(_JAMES goes out, and soon returns L., with CORNY REILLY, ELLEN SWEENY -and JULIA GRIFFIN. He conducts them to KATY._) - -J. Miss Maguire, this is Miss Sweeny, Miss Griffin, and Misther Reilly. - -CORNY (_bowing with many flourishes_). My respects to yez, Miss Maguire. -(_The other two visitors bow, and KATY returns the salutations of all._) - -J. Miss Maguire, won’t ye favor us with a little illegant music? - -M. It’s little enough of that kind ye’ll get. - -K. If ye’ll esquort me to the pianner, I’ll play pervidin’ yez will all -sing. - -A. (_who has just entered_). Av coorse we will. - -M. I aint a-goin’ to sing anyway. - -K. (_sarcastically_). Yer vice won’t be missed, Miss Finnegan. - -J. Allow me to lade yez to the pianner. - -(_KATY takes his arm and goes to the piano, L. C., where she seats -herself._) - -K. (_turning around_). What can ye sing, ladies? - -J. You choose the song for us. - -K. Well, thin, it’s a midley I’ll play, an’ then ye can sing what ye -plaze. - -(_She commences drumming on the piano, and her companions, grouped around -her, sing, each one a different piece, a short one. Enter PAT., R., who -dances round the stage till the close of the singing._) - -P. (_going to KATY and speaking in a low tone, but loud enough for all -to hear_). Say, Katy, I’ve been down-town, an’ got some ice-crame. It’s -downstairs now. We’re going to have a big trate byme-by. - -K. (_smiling graciously_). Is that so, Pat.? - -P. Yis, an’ the things on the table looked so timptin’ that I stopped an’ -refreshed mesilf wid a little cake an’ wine. (_Begins to sing some Irish -air._) - -J. Look here, Pat.; what did ye meddle with that wine for? Ye spalpeen, I -b’lave ye’re dhrunk. - -P. (_slyly_). Sure, that’s where ye’re wrong, Misther Dunn. I jist took a -wee dthrop to keep my sperits up. (_Begins to dance._) - -J. It’s more like ye’ve put all the sperits down yer throat, yer thafe of -the world! - -P. Owin’ to my partic’lar good nature, I shan’t notice that little -insinivation o’ yours. But say, now, let’s have a dance. If you aint -goin’ ter play, Katy, jest be my partner, will yer? - -J. Miss Maguire’s engaged ter me. - -K. Yis, I’m engaged to Misther Dunn. - -P. Whew! That’s the way the wind blows, thin. Well _dunn_, Jimmy! (_All -laugh._) - -J. (_pushing PAT._). Jist be a little more respectful to your betters, ye -blackguard! (_Turning to KATY politely_) Will you allow me, Miss Maguire? -(_Offers his arm, which KATY takes, and they take their places for the -dance._) - -P. Say now, who’s goin’ to fiddle for us? Or is we goin’ ter dance widout -any music? - -C. Miss Sweeny plays on the pianner at our house. - -K. Then perhaps Miss Sweeny will do us the favor ter play for us. - -(_In imitation of JAMES’ example, PAT. immediately rushes up to ELLEN, -saying with many flourishes:_) - -P. Allow me, Miss Sweeny. (_She takes his arm and goes to piano and seats -herself._) - -(_PAT. goes to MARY, and offers his arm for the dance, but she turns -disdainfully from him, and goes out with a lofty air. PAT. then goes to -JULIA, who accepts him as a partner. CORNEY, at the same time, takes -BRIDGET and ANN (one on either arm), and all have taken their places. At -the sound of the piano, they break into an Irish jig of the wildest sort. -PAT. cuts up the maddest capers. A bell rings outside, but in the uproar -it is unheard by the dancers. A moment later, MISS EVELYN appears at the -door, L. She stands for a moment, dumfounded at the scene before her. At -first she is not seen by any of the company, but ELLEN, happening to look -up, beholds her and clasps her hands in alarm. The dancers, not hearing -the sound of the piano, look toward it to discover the cause. They -observe the dismay pictured in ELLEN’S face, and, following the direction -of her eyes, they behold MISS EVELYN. They stand with startled faces._) - -MISS EVELYN (_sternly_). What does all this mean? - -M. (_triumphantly_). It’s all Katy’s doin’s, miss. - -K. (_Darting a withering glance at the speaker, and then turning to MISS -E._). We were only indulgin’ in a little innocent amusement, ma’am. I -hope you’re not offended. - -MISS E. But who gave you leave to deck yourself in this manner? - -K. Sure I was only airin’ the dress, ma’am, as it had hung so long in the -closet. - -MISS E. Well, I don’t approve of any such airs. Leave the room, every one -of you! The idea of my drawing-room being the scene of a servants’ party! -You will all receive your discharge to-morrow morning. - -(_The servants leave the room, R., looking crestfallen enough—all but -KATY, who sweeps out of the room with a lofty air, determined to keep up -her character to the last._) - -P. (_aside to ANN, who goes out last_). An’ aint we goin’ to have our -trate then? - -A. (_aside_). Whist! Yis. Say nothin’. We’re goin’ to have it right away. -Miss Evelyn never comes down below at this time o’ night. - - (_Exeunt._) - -MISS E. (_seating herself C. in disgust_). Was there ever any annoyance -equal to that of keeping servants? Mine are a constant source of trouble. -I have threatened to discharge them all to-morrow morning. But what shall -I gain by it? I shall have another set who will perhaps try my patience -even more than these have done. Servants understand their importance, -and realize their power over their employers. It is becoming a species -of tyranny. If I could only do without them I most assuredly would do -so. (_A shout of laughter is heard in the distance. MISS E. stands up._) -What! haven’t they done yet? Probably they are gormandizing, downstairs, -at my expense. (_To the audience—a little sarcastically:_) I have heard -some persons wish for wealth, so that they could afford to keep servants -to wait on them. They do not realize the emptiness of their desires. -A person who has few wants, and can minister to them himself, is more -independent than the wealthiest person living. Those who keep a multitude -of servants are dependent on _their whims_, and should not be surprised -at frequent outbursts of High Life Below Stairs. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -BOARDING ON A FARM. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MRS. MONTGOMERY, A Lady who is seeking Country Board. - MR. MONTGOMERY, her Husband. - FLORENCE MALVINA, ⎫ Their Children. - GEORGE ALEXANDER, ⎭ - MRS. JONES, A Farmer’s Wife. - JONATHAN, ⎫ Servants. - PATTY, ⎭ - - - SCENE I.—_Parlor. MR. MONTGOMERY, L., reading paper. MRS. - MONTGOMERY, R., sewing._ - -MRS. MONTGOMERY. Mr. Montgomery. - -MR. MONTGOMERY. Well, my dear. - -MRS. M. We must go into the country this summer. - -MR. M. Is it absolutely essential to your happiness? - -MRS. M. (_with suppressed eagerness_). Of course I should enjoy it very -much. But I wasn’t thinking of myself. The children need it far more than -I do. They are both quite feeble and need fresh air and country living. - -MR. M. I hadn’t noticed that the children were not as well as usual. - -MRS. M. No, I dare say not. Men never notice such things. But they are -both ailing; and if I didn’t doctor them all the time, they’d be down -sick. - -MR. M. We can’t afford to pay the extravagant prices charged for country -board. - -MRS. M. I don’t expect to go to a fashionable place. But we might get -boarded, at a low rate, at some farm-house where we could get fresh -fruits and vegetables, and those things which can only be found in the -country. I’m sure it’s better to pay one’s money for such things than to -spend it for medicine. - -MR. M. The sea-breeze is better than the country air. You might take a -trip with the children to Hingham or Nahant once or twice a week. - -MRS. M. (_slightly ruffled_). How foolishly you talk! But then it’s what -I might expect. These short trips always fatigue people more than they -benefit them. When it’s too late to help the children, perhaps you’ll -think of my advice and wish you’d followed it. - -MR. M. If it’s as serious a matter as you suppose, and this is the only -remedy, I should say go, by all means. - -MRS. M. You must judge for yourself. - -MR. M. But I don’t believe it is possible to find such a place as would -suit you at a reasonable price. - -MRS. M. (_eagerly_). I found an advertisement in last week’s paper -describing a place that I thought would be just such us we would like. -Here it is. (_Takes paper from table—reads._) - - “COUNTRY BOARDING.—Those who are leaving behind them the noise - and dust of the city, and wish to refresh themselves by a - communion with nature, will find a desirable summer retreat at - Honeysuckle Villa, in the beautiful town of Hillsdale. It is - within five minutes’ walk of the railroad, in the midst of a - country rich in vegetation, and smiling under the liberal eye - of a bountiful Providence. A beautiful lake, at the distance - of a quarter of a mile, presents strong attractions for the - angler, while a boat which has recently been placed upon it - will enable the visitor to enjoy the luxury of a sail. No pains - will be spared to render this a delightful retreat for the - denizens of the metropolis. - - “ELIPHALET JONES.” - -MR. M. That sounds well enough. But what proof have you that things are -as represented? - -MRS. M. I wrote to Mr. Jones, and received a very gentlemanly reply. As -he says, the terms are quite moderate. Mrs. Livingston pays nearly twice -as much. - -MR. M. What are the terms? - -MRS. M. Thirty dollars per week for you, myself, and the two children. - -MR. M. But are there trains at hours to accommodate me? - -MRS. M. Yes, I took pains to ascertain that. - -MR. M. Very well, then, make whatever arrangements you choose. We can but -give it a trial. - - (_Exit MR. M., L._) - -MRS. M. (_triumphantly_). That’s one point gained. The next thing is to -make preparations for our journey. I was determined not to be cooped up -in the city another summer, when all our acquaintances are boarding in -the country. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_Country railway station. MRS. MONTGOMERY, C., and - two children, R., sitting with outer garments on. Two trunks, a - bandbox and travelling-bag on the floor. Enter JONATHAN HODGE, - L., wearing a coarse frock and carrying a whip._ - -JONATHAN (_to MRS. M._). Be yeaou the folks what’s going to the Joneses? - -MRS. M. Yes, we wish to go to Mr. Jones’, at Honeysuckle Villa. - -J. Honeysuckle Villa. Wal, that’s a good un. Ha, ha, ha! - -MRS. M. (_aside_). Is it possible that they have deceived me? But I shall -soon learn. (_Aloud._) Is the carriage ready? - -J. (_laughing_). Ya—as, the kerridge is waitin’. You can see it from the -door (_nods toward door, L._) - -MRS. M. (_looks out with some curiosity_). I don’t see any carriage. -There’s nothing but a farm wagon in sight. - -J. That’s the kerridge that’s come for ye, anyway. Mr. Jones thought -mebbe you’d hev a lot of baggage, so he sent the hay-riggin’. - -MRS. M. But there are no seats. - -J. Yes, there’s a board to put across, after we get loaded up. - -MRS. M. (_indignantly_). And we are expected to ride in such a vehicle as -that? - -J. There aint no use in callin’ it names. It’s easy enough ridin’ in it. - -MRS. M. But we cannot all sit on one seat. - -J. The children can set on the trunks. (_Takes up one of the trunks to -carry it out. Exit, L._) - -GEORGE. Say, mother, have we got to ride in that old, ricketty wagon? -It’ll jolt like everything, I know ’twill. - -MRS. M. (_in a soothing tone_). We’ve only got to ride a few steps. - -J. (_entering_). Don’t know ’bout that. I reckon it’s a good mile down -there, and the roads aint none of the best. - -MRS. M. (_indignantly_). Mr. Jones’ advertisement stated that his house -was only five minutes’ walk from the station. - -J. Mr. Jones got the schoolmaster to write that notice for the paper. He -came up to the house one night and did it. Jones told him to put it in -pretty strong. The marster read it out ’loud after he’d writ it, an’ I -declair to goodness, I shouldn’t ha’ knowed ’twas the same place we lived -in. - -MRS. M. (_decidedly_). Well, if I don’t like the place, we shan’t stay, -that’s all. - -J. (_smiling incredulously_). Oh, mebbe you’ll like it, after all. Folks -need a change sometimes. (_Takes out another trunk, L._) - -FLORENCE. Mother, I’m thirsty. - -MRS. M. There isn’t anything to drink here. We’ll soon get to Mr. Jones’. - -FLOR. (_impatiently_). I want something to drink now. - -MRS. M. Wait patiently a little longer, and then you can have a drink of -nice, fresh milk. (_Enter JONATHAN._) - -J. (_aside_). I shouldn’t be a mite surprised if they was disapp’inted in -their expectations. I guess they won’t find many delicacies at Joneses. -Leastways, I never did. (_Aloud_) Kerridge is ready, folks. (_Takes -bandbox and bag and goes out L., MRS. M. and children follow._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_Dining-room at country farm-house. Table is set for - dinner. MRS. JONES brings in pie, R._ - -MRS. JONES (_turning as she enters, and addressing PATTY in next room_). -Dish up the beans, Patty, and be spry now. (_Places pie on table and goes -out, R. FLORENCE enters L., and sits down._) - -(_MRS. J. enters with potatoes, and PATTY with a dish of baked beans, -both of which are placed on table. PATTY goes out, R._) - -MRS. J. (_addressing FLORENCE_). Go and tell your mother dinner’s ready, -child. - -FLOR. (_bridling_). My name’s Florence Malvina Montgomery. - -MRS. J. (_glancing over the table to see if everything needful is upon -it_). Yes, I know it. Go and tell your mother dinner is ready. - -(_FLORENCE goes out L., and soon returns with her mother and brother._) - -MRS. J. Dinner’s ready, Mrs. Montgomery. Take that chair if you’re a mind -to (_indicating it_), and the children can set, one on each side of you. -(_They sit._) Will you have some baked beans, ma’am? - -MRS. M. Thank you, no, I never eat them. - -MRS. J. Don’t eat beans! Why, they’re the wholesomest victuals there -is. I’m sure I don’t know what I can give you to eat, then. I haint got -nothin’ else but some cold corned beef, and was savin’ that for dinner -to-morrer. - -MRS. M. I might, perhaps, eat a little of the cold meat. - -MRS. J. (_in a loud voice_). Patty, bring in the cold beef that was left -yesterday. - -PATTY (_outside_). Yes’m. (_Brings in meat R., then exit._) - -MRS. M. Haven’t you any new potatoes yet? - -MRS. J. Yes, but we thought, as we had these left, we’d use ’em up first. - -MRS. M. But these are watery, and not fit to eat. - -MRS. J. Oh, they aint bad for the time o’ year. Mr. Jones carried the new -potatoes to market this morning. They bring a good price now. - -MRS. M. Well, I’m sure I cannot eat these. You may give me a piece of -pie, if you please. - -GEO. Mother, I can’t cut the pie-crust. - -MRS. M. I’ll cut it for you. (_Tries to cut it, but it is so tough the -knife slips and falls to the floor._) - -MRS. J. Let me cut it. (_She, with some effort, cuts it and returns it to -GEORGE._) - -MRS. M. Haven’t you any strawberries? - -MRS. J. Yes, we’re goin’ to have some on the table Sunday. We send them -to market every day, the first of the season, they bring such a good -price. - -MRS. M. (_sarcastically_). I suppose you sell your cream too. - -MRS. J. Yes, we find we can make more money that way than by makin’ -butter and cheese. So we buy our butter at the store. - -MRS. M. (_indignantly_). We came to the country expecting to get fresh -fruit and vegetables. But it seems we are more likely to find them in the -city. I am half inclined to go directly back; however, I will perhaps -remain one week. It depends on how we are treated whether we stop any -longer. - - (_Exit with children, L._) - -MRS. J. Lor’ now, what airs these city people do put on! Seems to me -there’s no end to their whims and wants. They don’t have the least -thought about economy. (_In a loud voice_) Patty, you and Jonathan come -to dinner. - -P. (_outside, R._). Comin’, ma’am. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE IV.—_Sitting-room. MRS. M. present, R._ - -MRS. M. I can’t stand boarding here much longer, that’s a fixed fact. -Mrs. Jones sets a most wretched table, and the children are really -growing thinner every day. If it hadn’t been for the name of it I should -have left Hillsdale before this. The reputation of going to the country -for the summer is hardly sufficient to pay for living in small rooms, -sleeping on stifling feather-beds, and enduring such execrable cookery, -and not a book but the Farmer’s Almanac to be found in the house. - -(_FLORENCE runs in L., with a terrified expression of countenance. -Her hat is hanging down from her neck, and her hair flying in all -directions._) - -FLOR. Oh! oh! I’m so scared. (_Runs to her mother._) - -MRS. M. Why, Florence Malvina, what a fright you make of yourself! Pray -what is the matter? - -FLOR. I guess you’d be frightened if you’d been where I was. I just went -outside of the road to find some blackberries, when I thought I heard -somebody coming. I looked round, and there was a great ugly-looking -cow running after me. I ran as fast us I could till I couldn’t go any -further, and then I crept underneath the bars, and came up through the -field. - -MRS. M. It’s a shame for people to allow their cows to run around the -streets in such a way. It’s lucky that you were not killed. - -FLOR. The cow would have taken me up on her horns if she had caught me, -I know she would. She held her head down all ready to do it. (_Enter -GEORGE, L., covered with mud and water_). Why George, did you almost get -drowned? Just look, mother. George is just as wet as he can be. (_GEORGE -looks askance at his mother, but says nothing._) - -MRS. M. (_severely_). Well, George Alexander, this is a pretty plight for -you to be in. What have you been doing now? - -GEO. (_defiantly_). I wasn’t doing anything, only building a dam down by -the spring, and pretty soon some boys came along, and they laughed at me, -and said they bet I couldn’t jump the ditch there. So I meant to show -them I could, and I did do it too; but the ground was all soft and wet -the other side, and when I tried to jump back again I fell into the ditch. - -MRS. M. What boys were they? - -GEO. The Dunn boys. They knew it was wet the other side, and when I fell -in, you ought to have heard them laugh. - -MRS. M. They are nothing but ill-bred country blockheads. (_To GEORGE._) -But don’t stand there any longer with those wet clothes on. Go and change -them at once. - - (_Exit GEORGE, L. FLORENCE follows him._) - -MRS. M. (_sola_). What a wretched place this is! If I was obliged to live -in such a way at home, I shouldn’t think I could bear it. The family -here haven’t even _decent_ accommodations for keeping boarders. - - (_Enter FLORENCE, L., in state of great excitement._) - -FLOR. O mother, two men are coming, and they are bringing father in. I’m -afraid he’s killed. - -MRS. M. (_starting up_). What do you mean, child? (_Enter men, L., -bearing MR. M. MRS. M. clasps her hands in anxious suspense; goes up to -her husband._) What is the matter, Henry? Has there been an accident? -(_The men place MR. M. on sofa and exit L._) - -MR. M. It isn’t quite as bad as it seems. I was a little tired and -thought I’d ride up from the village to-night, instead of walking. But -the stage broke down, and I was thrown out. I was a good deal bruised, -but I believe there are no bones broken. Dr. Bryant examined me, and said -I would be all right in a few days. - -MRS. M. Well, as soon as you are able to leave, I’m going back to the -city. I can’t stay here any longer. - -MR. M. (_smiling_). You don’t mean that you are willing to go back to the -city, and endure all its discomforts again. - -MRS. M. I’ve come to the conclusion that there are as many annoyances in -the country as in the city. - -MR. M. But you forget that the children cannot have country fare after -our return. - -MRS. M. No, I do not. I find that the country fare we sought is all sent -to the city, and we must return there in order to enjoy it. After two -weeks’ trial of living in the country, I am thoroughly tired of it, and I -think a long time will elapse before I again wish to try the experiment -of Boarding on a Farm. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -TAMING A WIFE. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MR. GROVER, a Merchant. - MRS. GROVER, his Wife. - MRS. ROSS, Mrs. G.’s Mother. - BRIDGET, their Servant. - MR. FARWELL, ⎫ - MR. HUNTLY, ⎭ Mr. G.’s Friends. - - - SCENE I.—_A room at MISS DANE’S boarding-house. MR. FARWELL, - R., half reclining on the sofa. MR. GROVER, C., sitting in a - chair, with his feet on the table. Both smoking._ - -MR. FARWELL. Why don’t you get married, Grover? I suppose you intend, at -some time, to take to yourself a wife. - -MR. GROVER. I might if I could find a woman to suit me. But I don’t want -any of the vain and frivolous creatures we constantly meet in society. - -MR. F. They are not all of this description. Now, there’s Gertrude Hobbs. -She is a pretty girl. - -MR. G. And when you’ve said that, you’ve said all there is to say. - -MR. F. I’m sure she is pleasant and agreeable. - -MR. G. And weak-minded. - -MR. F. Ah! I see, you would like a girl of spirit. Then, why not take -Kate Ross? The only objection to her is, that she has an imperious -temper. I should not care to cross her if I were her husband. - -MR. G. (_contemptuously_). Pooh! that is your spirit, is it? For my part, -there would be no pleasure in subduing a tame, spiritless creature; but, -if somewhat mettlesome, there would be some excitement in it. I am half -tempted to offer my hand to Kate Ross, to show you what a simple affair -it would be to tame a spirited woman. - -MR. F. I hope you _will_ do so, as I shall not change my opinion till it -is practically refuted. And I will wager a hundred dollars that you will -talk in quite a different way after marrying her. - -MR. G. You will probably lose your money. When I undertake anything, I -usually bring it to a successful termination. - -MR. F. (_smiling_). I am willing to take the risk. Theory is very well in -its way, but it is practice that tells the story. I confess I have some -curiosity to see how the matter ends. - -MR. G. Well, you will probably have that satisfaction within six months, -as Kate Ross will, without doubt, be Mrs. Grover before that time. - -MR. F. You seem quite confident. Have you proposed to Miss Ross? - -MR. G. No; but she would not think of refusing my offer. An opportunity -of gaining such a position is seldom presented to a poor girl. - -MR. F. Very well. If you do not talk in quite a different way after -marrying Kate Ross, the money is yours. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_MRS. GROVER’S kitchen. Time—one month after - marriage. BRIDGET, R., washing dishes. MR. GROVER enters, L._ - -MR. G. Bridget, I find that for two days past dinner has been served -before I came home. Hereafter, you must wait till I return before doing -so. - -BRIDGET. But it was kept warm for ye’s. An’ the misthress told me to do -it. - -MR. G. I know that; but you are bound to obey me rather than her. - -B. (_bewildered_). Sir? - -MR. G. To-day I shall not be at home till four o’clock. Four, remember. -On no account must you serve up dinner before that time. - -B. (_astonished_). But what shall I say to misthress when she tells me? - -MR. G. Say? You must tell her that I threatened to dismiss you if you did -so. Will you remember? - -B. (_confusedly_). I’ll try. - -MR. G. (_going toward door with satisfied smile_). There, I think that -will set matters right. I would give something to see how Mrs. Grover -will take it, when Bridget, by my direction, refuses to obey her. She -will begin to find out whom she has to deal with then. - - (_Exit, L._) - -MRS. GROVER (_enters by another door, R., in season to hear her husband’s -last words_). Has Mr. Grover forbidden you to follow my directions, -Bridget? - -B. Yes, mum. He told me he shouldn’t be at home until four, and he should -send me away if I took up dinner before that time. - -MRS. G. (_coolly_). Indeed! he is interfering beyond his province. -However, you are to obey me, not him. Be sure to have dinner on the table -at two o’clock precisely. - -B. But he will send me away if I do. - -MRS. G. And I will send you away if you don’t. - -B. (_in ludicrous dismay_). Och, what will I do? It’s turned away I’ve -got to be whether I do it or not. - -MRS. G. Better obey me, Bridget. If he should turn you away, you shall -be back again in less than a week, and, meanwhile, I will pay you wages; -but, if I turn you away, it will be for good. - -B. Faix, mum, you’re a jewel. An’ if dinner isn’t on the table at two -o’clock precisely, then my name isn’t Bridget McDermott. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_MRS. GROVER, R., and MRS. ROSS, L., who is visiting - her daughter, are seated in the dining-room. The table is - spread, but there is no food on it. MR. GROVER enters, L._ - -MR. G. (_triumphantly_). You may order up dinner now, Mrs. Grover. - -MRS. G. (_surprised_). Dinner! Is it possible that you have not eaten -dinner at four o’clock? - -MR. G. (_in an appalling voice_). Have you eaten dinner? - -MRS. G. (_coolly continuing her sewing_). Certainly. The table was -cleared an hour ago. Bridget kept the meat at the fire, but I was sure -you had dined down town. Shall I ring for it? - -MR. G. (_frowning_). No. May I inquire if Bridget served up the dinner? - -MRS. G. Of course you may. I have no objection. - -MR. G. (_in a loud voice_). Madam, enough of this trifling. Did Bridget -serve up dinner? - -MRS. ROSS (_expostulating_). Really, Kate and Mr. Grover, you should not -disagree. - -MRS. G. (_interrupting her_). Goodness! Mr. Grover, I could hear -distinctly enough if you spoke a great deal lower. Of course, Bridget -served up dinner. You don’t suppose I did it? - -MR. G. At two o’clock? - -MRS. G. Certainly. - -MR. G. (_rings bell violently. BRIDGET appears, R._). Bridget, do you -recollect my telling you this morning I should not be home till four? - -B. Yes, sir. - -MR. G. And that dinner was not to be served up till that time? - -B. Yes, sir. - -MR. G. Then, why did you dare to do otherwise? - -B. (_undaunted_). The misthress tould me to. - -MR. G. Then I wish you to understand that I am the master, and my orders -are to be obeyed. I dismiss you from my service. - -B. (_courtesying_). Yes, sir. - -MR. G. (_angrily_). This instant. Do you hear? - -B. (_courtesying again_). Yes, sir. My clothes are all packed. (_Turning -to MRS. G._) Good-by, mum. - -MRS. G. (_unconcernedly_). Oh, good-by, Bridget. So you are going, are -you? - -B. Yes, mum. - -MRS. G. Perhaps you would like a recommendation. - -MR. G. I shall give none. - -MRS. G. Because, if you would, I will give you one very willingly. - -B. No, mum; I don’t think I shall live out ag’in just yet. I’m goin’ to -stop wid my sister a while. - -MRS. G. Very well, Bridget; (_in a significant tone_) you must call again -soon. - - (_Exit BRIDGET, R._) - -(_A pause in which MR. G. seats himself, L., leaning back exultantly._) - -MRS. G. (_as if unconscious of what had passed_). Is there any news from -abroad? - -MR. G. (_crustily_). No. - -MRS. G. What course is Germany expected to take? - -MR. G. (_in a forbidding tone_). I don’t know. - -(_MRS. G. rises and folds up her work. MR. G. thinks, with a thrill of -gratification, that, in the absence of BRIDGET, MRS. G. will be obliged -to get supper._) - -MRS. G. (_having reached the door, turns back_). By the way, Mr. Grover, -my mother and myself are going out to tea. We are invited to Mrs. Haven’s. - -MR. G. (_startled_). But what am I to do? - -MRS. G. (_carelessly_). I don’t know, really, unless you come up with us. -I presume Mrs. Haven will be very much pleased to see you. Will you come? - -MR. G. (_sharply_). No. (_MRS. G. opens the door, preparatory to going -out._) Mrs. Grover, I have invited two gentlemen to dine with me -to-morrow, and it will be your duty to prepare dinner for them. You will -receive articles from the market by nine o’clock. You understand me, do -you not? - -MRS. G. Perfectly. - -MR. G. And know what I expect? - -MRS. G. Certainly. - -MR. G. And you understand also, that I am a man of my word. - -MRS. G. I am very happy to hear it. I have always considered it a very -desirable quality. - - (_Exeunt MRS. GROVER and her mother, R._) - -MR. G. (_complacently soliloquizes_). I think that will settle the -matter. If Mrs. Grover married me with the idea of being a fine lady, -and having an easy time, she is quite mistaken. I don’t intend to -encourage female insubordination. I believe the man was made to govern, -the wife to obey. If more husbands had my firmness, things would go on a -little better in the world. But it isn’t everybody that has my tact at -governing. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE IV.—_Dining-room at MR. GROVER’S. The table is laid for - four persons. MR. FARWELL, R., MR. HUNTLY, L., and MR. GROVER, - C., present._ - -MR. HUNTLY. Have you heard how Brown’s wife has treated him? - -MR. F. Not a word. - -MR. H. She has deserted him, and gone, no one knows whither. After dinner -yesterday, Brown went to his room a moment, leaving his pocket-book on -the table. When he returned, his wife, and his pocket-book—containing -several hundred dollars—were gone. And although a thorough search has -been instituted, no tidings have been had of either. - -MR. G. It seems to me that a woman who would do such a thing has not been -properly trained by her husband. - -MR. F. In my opinion, there are some women of such a nature that they -will not brook subjection even from their husbands; or, in fact, -subordination of any kind. - -MR. G. (_firmly_). I would like to see any woman whom I could not bring -under subjection. I cannot conceive of a man surrendering the authority, -which is his natural right, into the hands of a woman. - -MR. H. (_smiling_). Do you intend, Grover, to carry out your theory of -domestic government under your present circumstances? - -MR. G. I certainly do not mean to submit to petticoat government. In my -eyes the husband should be at the head of the household, and, while I -occupy that position, I shall delegate my authority to no one. (_MRS. -GROVER enters, R._) My dear, allow me to present to you, my friends, Mr. -Farwell and Mr. Huntly. - -MRS. G. I am happy to see you, gentlemen. As friends of my husband, I am -glad to make your acquaintance. - -MR. G. (_turning to his wife_). Is dinner ready? - -MRS. G. (_promptly_). It is on the table. - -MR. G. (_with a smile of exultation_). Sit down, gentlemen. Mr. Huntly -will take a seat on my right (_indicating it_), and Mr. Farwell on my -left (_indicating it_). I have provided a dinner to-day, gentlemen -(_sharpening the knife preparatory to carving_), which is an especial -favorite with me—I mean roast turkey. (_Lifting the cover, his astonished -gaze rested on an uncooked turkey. He lifts, successively, the covers of -the other dishes, and sees uncooked squashes, and potatoes with their -skins on._) - -MR. G. (_sternly to his wife_). Will you explain the meaning of this, -madam? - -MRS. G. (_smiling blandly_). Certainly. Bridget left me yesterday -afternoon, by your direction. I have done what I could toward supplying -her place. I am truly sorry if the dinner is not to your taste. - -MR. G. What do you intend by this insult which you have put upon me in my -own house? - -MRS. G. (_fanning herself_). You are a little excited, Mr. Grover. You -remember that I warned you I should not supply Bridget’s place. - -MR. G. (_angrily_). So it seems you want to rule me. - -MRS. G. Not at all. I only object to being ruled. - -MR. G. It’s the same thing, madam. You would like to have me become a -miserable, hen-pecked husband. But that will never happen. (_Turning to -guests_) Gentlemen, I regret that circumstances have conspired to render -useless the invitation I gave you to dine with me. I cannot, in such -case, invite you to stay longer, but shall renew the invitation at a more -convenient opportunity. - -MRS. G. (_turning toward them_). I, too, shall be glad to see you, -gentlemen, and hope, on the next occasion, to offer you a more attractive -collation. That, however, depends entirely on whether my husband decides -to leave the management of the household where it belongs—in my hands. - - (_Exeunt MESSRS. FARWELL and HUNTLY, L._) - -MR. G. (_angrily_). Well, madam, I hope you are satisfied with this -disgraceful exhibition. - -MRS. G. (_quietly_). I am not responsible for it. - -MR. G. You have disgraced me before my guests. - -MRS. G. Then why did you interfere with Bridget? - -MR. G. I am the head of the household. - -MRS. G. I beg your pardon. I imagined that Bridget was under my orders. - -MR. G. You are right, as long as your orders do not conflict with mine. - -MRS. G. Very well, sir, I leave you, then, to the sole management of the -household. (_Moves to go out._) - -MR. G. Where are you going? - -MRS. G. Home to my mother. - -MR. G. (_alarmed_). Would you desert your husband? - -MRS. G. Yes, until he knows his place. (_Opens the door, R._) - -MR. G. But—what will the world say? Don’t go, Kate! - -MRS. G. (_turning_). I will stay on one condition, and on one only. - -MR. G. What is it? - -MRS. G. That you will never, again, interfere in the affairs of the -household, and will agree to my recalling Bridget, at once. - -MR. G. (_rather sheepishly_). Very well, anything for peace. - - (_Exit, L._) - -MRS. G. (_sola_). There, sir, I have taught you a lesson. I understand -you proposed to tame me. My impression is, that it is the husband that -has been tamed. There is truth in the old couplet:— - - “When a woman says she will, she will, depend on’t, - And when she won’t, she won’t, and there’s an end on’t.” - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -JOHN SMITH’S TRIALS. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MR. SMITH. - MRS. SMITH. - SHERIFF BAILEY. - BRIDGET. - - - SCENE I.—_In the parlor. MR. SMITH reclining on the sofa. He - has a newspaper in his hand, but is not reading. MRS. S. enters - L., wearing a plain dress._ - -MR. SMITH. Seems to me, Amanda, that for one who runs up such a bill as I -paid yesterday, you don’t appear remarkably well dressed. What have you -done with all the gay garments Madame Dubois has lately made for you? - -MRS. SMITH. I haven’t run up any bill, and I don’t patronize Madame -Dubois. She is too high in her charges for people in our circumstances. - -MR. S. But why should she send her bill here? It was directed in full, to -John Smith, Taylor’s Block, Central Street. - -MRS. S. I’m sure I don’t know. All I can say is, there must be some -mistake. She never made any garments whatever for me. By the way, have -you the bill with you? - -MR. S. Yes, here it is. (_Takes bill from his pocket, unfolds it, and -shows it to his wife._) - -MRS. S. What is the amount? - -MR. S. One hundred and twenty-five dollars and forty-seven cents. - -MRS. S. (_surprised_). And you paid it? - -MR. S. Certainly; I supposed it was all right. - -MRS. S. Well, I don’t know what can be done about it. I never had any of -the articles mentioned. - -MR. S. Do you suppose there is another person of the same name on this -street? - -MRS. S. Yes, Bridget told me, last evening, there were three other John -Smiths on this street, two of whom live in this block. - -MR. S. Then there’ll be no end of mistakes. - -MRS. S. None as serious as this, I hope. - -(_Enter BRIDGET, R., bearing a letter, which she passes to MR. S._) - -BRIDGET. An’ here’s a letther the postman brought, sir. - -MR. S. (_examines superscription, which he reads aloud_). “Mr. John -Smith, Taylor’s Block, Central Street, B——.” - - (_Exit BRIDGET, R._) - -MRS. S. Where is it from? - -MR. S. It is postmarked Ramsey, Minnesota. - -MRS. S. Have you acquaintances there? - -MR. S. It seems so, though I wasn’t aware of it. - -MRS. S. Do open the letter. I’m really curious to know whom it is from. - -MR. S. Ah, yes, woman’s curiosity! How do you know but it may be privacy? - -MRS. S. I am satisfied that it is not. At all events, I’m willing to run -the risk. - -MR. S. Courageous woman! Then I will venture to open it. (_Cuts off edge -of envelope and draws out a small, square piece of paper which he begins -to read aloud._) - - “You thief, you! You villain, you! So you’ve basely gone off - and taken my best dress and bonnet, and all the silver my - father gave me when I was married! I suppose you intended to - adorn your wife with the clothes you stole! But you shan’t - do it, as sure as my name is Dorothy Ann. I’ve got track - of you, and just as quick as I can get money enough, I’m - coming right along after you. You’re a mean, shiftless, lazy, - good-for-nothing villain, and if you don’t send all back within - a week, I’ll send the police after you.” - -MR. S. (_turns towards his wife, smiling_). There’s quite an inducement -for John Smith. What do you think of that for a character? I’d better -not have read the letter aloud. Perhaps you will begin to repent having -married me. - -MRS. S. I ought to, certainly, if this letter is true. But you haven’t -given me the dress and bonnet yet. - -MR. S. No, I never thought of it. I wonder if it was the wife of this -John Smith whose bill I paid. - -MRS. S. Don’t know. I think it’s doubtful if you ever find the one to -whom it rightfully belongs. - -MR. S. I must try, at all events. I don’t feel like losing so much money, -or paying other people’s dressmaker’s bills. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_MRS. S. is seated, R., sewing. MR. S. enters, L._ - -MR. S. What vile odor is that I smell? What have you for dinner, Amanda? - -MRS. S. (_complacently_). What you sent, of course. - -MR. S. And that is— - -MRS. S. Corned beef and cabbage. - -MR. S. I knew it. I thought I could not be deceived. Such a villanous -smell! - -MRS. S. (_surprised_). Of course you knew it. Did you not send it to me -this morning? - -MR. S. (_excited_). Never! I sent you a pair of the plumpest wild-fowl to -be found in the market. My mouth fairly watered for a taste of them as I -entered the door, when I was saluted by the scent of that odious cabbage. - -MRS. S. What do you suppose has become of them? - -MR. S. (_indignantly_). Some other John Smith is doubtless regaling -himself on them. - -MRS. S. Wouldn’t it be a good plan to send Bridget to see? - -MR. S. Yes, and let her go at once. - - (_Exit MRS. S., R._) - -MR. S. (_soliloquizing_). Some one asks, “What’s in a name?” If his name -happened to be John Smith, he wouldn’t have to inquire. Why couldn’t my -parents have called me Hezekiah, Ezekiel, or any other heathenish name -rather than plain John? Then I should not have been victimized in this -way. - -(_Enter MRS. S., R., followed by a stranger._) - -MRS. S. This gentleman wishes to see you, John. - -STRANGER (_inquiringly_). Your name is Smith, sir? (_MR. S. nods._) -_John_ Smith, I believe. - -MR. S. That is my name, though I wish to goodness it wasn’t. - -STR. No wonder, sir, no wonder. When I call on professional business, -people almost always wish they were somebody else. - -MR. S. And what is your business, if I may be allowed to inquire? - -STR. Certainly you may, though there’s no doubt you’d soon learn it -without inquiring. I am Sheriff Bailey, and I came to levy an execution -on your furniture. - -MR. S. And what is that for? - -STR. Because it is not paid for. Messrs. Phillips & Hoffman sold you, -some time since, a quantity of furniture amounting to two hundred and -fifty dollars, which was to be paid for in thirty days. Here is the bill -of it. (_Passes to MR. S._) This was three months ago, and though they -have repeatedly sent letters calling your attention to it, no notice has -been taken of them. Have you anything to say in regard to this matter? - -MR. S. (_dryly_). I think I have. In the first place, I haven’t bought -any furniture for a year. In the second place, I never heard of Messrs. -Phillips & Hoffman, and therefore, of course, never bought anything from -them (_sighing_). The fact is, sir, you’ve got hold of the wrong John -Smith. - -STR. You can’t come that dodge on me. The John Smith that I was looking -for lived in Taylor’s Block, and as this is the place, you must be the -man I am seeking. - -MR. S. (_indignantly_). Do you doubt my word, sir? Let me inform you -that there are two other John Smiths living in this block, as I know to -my sorrow. Besides, if you’ll take the trouble to look at the furniture, -you’ll see that it has been used a much longer time. I notice by the -bill (_glancing at it_) that it was a suite of parlor furniture that -was bought, and this is the only furniture of that description which we -possess. - -STR. (_looking around him_). This is not a new style of furniture, -certainly. It is possible that I may be mistaken in the person. If so, I -beg your pardon. I will make inquiries before proceeding further in this -matter. - -MR. S. (_with an injured air_). You need make no apologies, sir. I’m -getting used to this sort of thing. - - (_Exit SHERIFF, L., and enter BRIDGET, R._) - -B. It was to number seven that the fowls went, sir. - -MR. S. (_eagerly_). Did you bring them back with you? - -B. No, sir, they’ve eaten ’em up. Ann McKay said Mrs. Smith thought -somebody sent ’em as a present. But she told me privately that they had -dinner an hour earlier than usual. - -MR. S. A present indeed! They knew very well it was a mistake, and took -occasion to eat their dinner earlier, in order to have a nice meal before -the mistake could be rectified. Bridget, take the corned beef and cabbage -over, and tell them we have no use for it. Then come back and open all -the windows, and see if we cannot get rid of this intolerable smell. - -MRS. S. But what are we to have for dinner? - -MR. S. Boiled eggs—some of yesterday’s roast—or anything you may happen -to have in the house. For my part, I haven’t any appetite now. - - (_Exit BRIDGET, R. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_MRS. SMITH’S sitting-room. MRS. S. present, C._ - -MRS. S. (_soliloquizing_). I don’t see where Mr. Smith can be. It is -seldom he is out so late. (_Calls the servant, who is passing the door._) -Bridget! - -B. (_enters, R._). Yes, mum. - -MRS. S. Did Mr. Smith say where he was going when he left home? - -B. No, mum. He axed me “was you out,” and I told him you had gone into -Mrs. Clarke’s for a few minutes. He said it was no matter; he only wanted -to know had you mended the pocket of his weskit. - -MRS. S. I entirety forgot it. Just pass it from the hall-closet, Bridget, -and I will mend it at once. It will serve to pass the time away. - - (_Exit B., R._) - -B. (_enters, R._). Here it is, mum (_passes vest to MRS. S._). An’ I -think I’ll be goin’ upstairs, if ye don’t want me any more. It’s gettin’ -late. - -MRS. S. Very well, Bridget. I believe that is all I need. - - (_Exit BRIDGET, R._) - -MRS. S. I think it was the pocket on the right side that needed mending. -(_Turns pocket inside out._) What is this? (_Picks up a letter in a small -envelope, directed in a lady’s hand._) It cannot be a letter from his -sister. I must open it. (_Unfolds the letter and reads_):— - - “DEAREST JOHN,—It is a long time since the sight of your face - has gladdened my heart. Cannot you call on me this, evening? I - will refuse myself to every one else. Remember I have not seen - you for a whole week. Notwithstanding your protestations of - devotion to me, I fear you are too attentive to your wife, and - you know she does not appreciate your love as I do. Do not fail - to come. If it is necessary to make any excuses, say that you - are obliged to be away on business. I count the moments till we - meet. - - “LILLIAN PERCIVAL.” - -MRS. S. (_bitterly_). Is it possible that John has deceived me, and is -carrying on an intrigue with such a woman as that?—I cannot believe -it,—and yet it must be so. (_Hears sound of a latch-key,—listens._) That -is his step now. (_Puts letter back in another pocket of vest, and begins -to sew._) - -MR. S. (_enters, L._). What? Amanda—up yet. I expected to find you -asleep. Don’t trouble yourself with mending that vest to-night. I have -several others. - -MRS. S. (_coldly_). Where have you been to-night, John? - -MR. S. I was out on business. - -MRS. S. It must have been important business to keep you out till this -hour. - -MR. S. To tell the truth it was so. But it isn’t a matter you would be -likely to understand. - -MRS. S. I understand it only too well. (_Passes letter to him._) Who -wrote that letter? (_Eyes him sharply._) - -MR. S. (_bursting into a laugh_). I understand it all now,—you’ve read -that letter, and are jealous. Confess, now, that that’s the case. But I -didn’t suppose you’d be so ridiculous. - -MRS. S. (_bridling_). Ridiculous indeed! When one’s husband receives such -letters as that, it’s about time for his wife to inquire into the matter. - -MR. S. I received the letter this morning, but, satisfied that it was -written to some other John Smith, I thrust it hastily into my pocket, not -dreaming that it would stir up such a breeze as this. - -MRS. S. I wish, John, that you would have your name changed. - -MR. S. That is what I am intending to do. At the next session of the -Legislature, I have determined to apply for a change of name. I believe -there are more rascals by the name of Smith than any other one name in -the world. And if there is any villain who is brought before the police, -he is sure to give his name as John Smith. I don’t care what the new name -is,—Snooks, Jenkins, or Tubbs,—there isn’t one of them that would bring a -man into trouble half as soon, as to be called plain John Smith. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -AUNT RACHEL’S FRIGHT. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MR. CAMPBELL, A Returned Traveller. - MR. LEWIS, The Head of the Family. - MRS. LEWIS, His Wife. - AGNES, ⎫ - PHILIP, ⎭ Their Children. - MISS RACHEL, A Spinster Sister of Mr. L. - SERVANT. - - - SCENE I.—_Parlor at MR. LEWIS’. MR. C. enters, L._ - -MR. CAMPBELL. Well, I must say it seems pleasant to be home again, -once more. After travelling two years through foreign countries, it is -really refreshing to reach one’s native land. (_Throws himself into an -easy-chair, C._) But I wonder where Maria and her husband are? They will -be somewhat surprised to see me here a month earlier than they expected. -Fortunately, through all my travels I have kept my latch-key, and was -able to gain an entrance without the aid of a servant. However, now that -I am here, I feel impatient to see Maria and Arthur. I think I will ring. -(_Rings; servant enters, R._) - -MR. C. Are Mr. and Mrs. Lewis at home? - -SERVANT. No, sir, the family are all away at a party. You are Mrs. -Lewis’s brother, I suppose? - -MR. C. Yes. (_Surprised._) Did she expect me to-night? - -S. Yes, and she bade me say they were sorry to be obliged to be away. But -they wished you to make yourself comfortable. Here is the evening paper, -sir. (_Hands it to him._) As they will not be home till late, I will -conduct you to your room when you wish to retire. - -MR. C. There’s no occasion for that. I remember my old room very well. -I will read a while before I go to bed. I may possibly sit up till they -come home. At all events, I shall not need any further service from you. - - (_Exit_ SERVANT, L.) - -Well, I must say I’m mystified. In the first place, I don’t see how -Maria heard I should arrive to-day. In the second place, when I asked if -Mr. and Mrs. Lewis were at home, the servant said _all the family_ were -away. Now people don’t use such an expression as that when the family -consists of only two members. I wonder whether they have company? I -wish I might meet my sister Eliza here. But I won’t trouble myself with -needless conjectures. I shall learn all about the matter in the morning. -(_A pause._) I believe I’ll put on my slippers. (_Opens bag, from which -he takes slippers. He takes off boots, puts on slippers, then takes up -evening paper._) I wonder what the news is. In fact, it will be all news -to me. Ah! here’s the announcement of the arrival of the Rosamond. But -if Maria had seen it she wouldn’t have supposed that I was a passenger. -How _could_ she have heard of my arrival? That is a mystery to me. (_He -commences reading, but in one or two minutes his eyes close, and he -begins to nod. Suddenly his head falls back, and the paper drops from his -grasp. He wakens with a start._) Why, bless me, I nearly lost myself! -I feel very sleepy. (_Looks at his watch._) No wonder—it is nearly -half-past eleven o’clock. I think I will go to bed. (_Picks up paper, and -puts it on the table, then takes his bag—a small one—and a light, and -leaves the room, R._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_A chamber. There must be a bed in the room, C. This - may be a lounge, but it must have curtains around it. These are - necessary, and can be arranged on a light, portable frame. MR. - C. enters the room, sets down the lamp on table, R., and looks - around, in astonishment._ - -MR. C. It seems Maria has entirely refurnished this chamber. I can hardly -recognize the room I have occupied so many times. But I am too sleepy -to take much account of surroundings. If the bed is only comfortable, I -shall not take much notice of anything else. (_Takes off coat, vest, and -slippers, which he puts near head of bed, and extinguishes the light. -He then parts the curtains and throws himself upon the bed, drawing the -curtains to after him._) - -(_A pause. Then the door opens, L., and an ancient maiden, in party -attire, enters. She sets lamp down on the table. Sits down, herself, and -proceeds to divest her head of its adornings. She takes off two sets of -curls, two or three braids, and numberless hairpins. Also takes from her -mouth a set of false teeth. While these preparations are going on, she -soliloquizes_:) - -AUNT RACHEL. What senseless people one meets at a party, to be sure! - -MR. C. (_peeping from between curtains, aside_). Who the deuce is this? - -A. R. (_continuing_). There was that Fitznoodle, the puppy, trying to -make himself agreeable to our little Agnes. To be sure, she’s old enough -to have a beau, but I hope to goodness she won’t marry _him_. I wouldn’t -if he was worth his weight in gold. - -MR. C. (_again peeping out,—in a low tone_). What a fate it would be for -a man to marry such a woman as that! Though, for that matter, there won’t -be much left of her, if she keeps on. She’s got her head most taken to -pieces, already. - -(_AUNT R. puts on a very large night-cap, so that only a small portion -of her face is visible. She suddenly discovers the other lamp. MR. C. -frequently peeps out._) - -A. R. (_in dismay_). Where did that other lamp come from? I know it -wasn’t here when I dressed for the party. (_Looks around. MR. C.’S head -disappears, and the curtains are closed. She discovers a coat and vest on -the chair near head of bed. Her eyes are fixed on them in horror. She -wrings her hands._) Oh, there’s a man in the room, I know there is! I -shall faint. (_She suddenly considers that, under the circumstances, this -would be improper._) If I only dared to go and look! (_Stands a moment, -with hands tightly clasped together, grows courageous, and slowly walks -toward the bed, peeps through the curtain, and, darting back, screams._) -Oh! oh! oh! - -MR. C. (_parting the curtains a little_). Don’t be so foolish, madam. I -assure you it is all a mistake. - -A. R. That’s what they always say. (_Runs to door, L., looking back now -and then, to see if she is pursued; screams_:) Emmeline! James! Help! -Murder! Thieves! - - (_Exit AUNT RACHEL._) - -(_MR. C. parts the curtain, and looks forth._) - -MR. C. Well, I must say, that’s rather curious. The mystery thickens. -Pray who could that female be? I’m sure it’s no one that I ever saw -before. Perhaps she’s left a handkerchief with her name written on it. -I guess I’ll reconnoitre a little, as she has left me a light. (_Goes -to table, lifts, successively, the braids and masses of curls._) Here -is part of her make-up. But there’s no name on it. In fact, there is -nothing to give any clue to the mystery. But there’s one thing I can do. -I’ll fasten the door so that I shall not be interrupted again. (_Goes to -door and locks it._) Now I believe I will retire once more, and see if -I cannot get a little rest. And for fear I may be routed again, I will -leave the light burning. (_He goes to bed._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_Parlor at MR. LEWIS’. MRS. L., R., AGNES, C., and - PHILIP, L., present. They are engaged in taking off their outer - garments._ - -MRS. LEWIS. How glad I am to get home again! I feel very tired. - -PHILIP. I don’t feel tired a bit. I wanted to stop longer. Didn’t you, -Agnes? - -AGNES. I had a nice time, and enjoyed myself very much. (_Smiling._) I -don’t suppose I should seriously have objected to stopping longer. Do you -know, Phil, I made a good many new acquaintances this evening? - -PHIL. Yes, you seemed to be having a splendid time, talking with -Fitznoodle. I can’t say I admire your taste. - -A. Oh, as for that, I don’t fancy him much, myself, but you know one must -be civil, even if they don’t like those they are talking with. - -(_Enter AUNT RACHEL, R., with night-cap on, in a state of great -excitement._) - -A. R. Oh, murder! Help! Thieves! - -MRS. L. What is it, Rachel? - -A. R. (_gasping_). Oh, dear! Oh, dear! - -MRS. L. Why, Rachel, what is the matter? - -A. Do tell us, Aunt Rachel. - -PHIL. (_sturdily_). I’ll protect you, Aunt Rachel. Where’s the robber? - -A. R. Oh, there’s a man in my room—and he spoke to me. (_Clasping her -hands._) What shall I do? Oh! oh! - -MRS. L. A man in your room! It can’t be. How could he get in with the -doors all locked? - -A. R. (_tartly_). I tell you there is a man there. Don’t you believe me? -He spoke to me too. - -PHIL. What did he say, Aunt Rachel? - -A. R. I’m sure I don’t know. I didn’t wait to hear. - -MR. L. (_entering, L._). Pray what is the matter? You all look frightened. - -MRS. L. And well we may. There’s a man in Rachel’s room. - -MR. L. That’s all imagination. It is simply impossible that any one could -get in, under the circumstances. - -A. R. (_in a high tone_). What! Do you mean to insinuate that I don’t -know what I’m talking about? I guess I haven’t lost the use of any of my -faculties yet. And I saw him with my own eyes. - -MR. L. Don’t get disturbed, Rachel. We can easily learn whether there is -any one there or not. I will go myself and see. - -MRS. L. Don’t go, Alfred. If there is a man there, of course he is armed. -What could you do to protect yourself against the assault of a desperate -man, and one well armed too? Take my advice and call a policeman. - -MR. L. Well, perhaps that would be a better way. (_Starts to go out, L._) - -MRS. L. But what shall we do? We can’t be left alone. He might murder us -all and escape before you got back. - -MR. L. That is true. - -MRS. L. Why can’t we arm ourselves, and all go, in a body? There wouldn’t -be much chance for him to escape, and we could, all together, overpower -him. - -MR. L. Very well. I’ll take the carving-knife. (_Takes it from, table._) - -MRS. L. I’ll take the poker. (_Takes it._) - -PHIL. I’ll take the tongs. (_Takes them, and stepping up behind AUNT -RACHEL, pretends to take off her night-cap with them._) - -A. R. I’ll take the broom, and use it well, too. (_Takes it from behind -the door._) - -A. I’ll get the clothes-line to tie him with. (_Exit AGNES, R. The rest -go out, R., in the following order—MR. and MRS. L., AUNT R., and PHILIP._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE IV.—_Same as Scene II. Bed with curtains drawn. Some one - tries the door, L. MR. C. parts the curtains, and looks out._ - -MR. C. What’s to pay now, I wonder? I believe I shall have more -adventures in this one night than I met with all the time I was abroad. -(_Great pounding at the door._) Halloo there! Don’t break the door down. -What’s wanted? - -MR. L. (_outside_). Open this door at once, in the name of the law. - -MR. C. Well, well, wait a minute. (_He steps out of bed, thrusts his -feet in slippers, then goes and opens the door. Seems astonished at -seeing so many strange faces. They enter,—MR. L. and PHILIP pass to R.; -the rest remain at L.,—eying him cautiously, but concealing their weapons -behind them._) - -MR. L. Well, sir, what do you mean by entering my house at night, and -frightening this lady (_turning to AUNT R._) in such a manner? - -MR. C. I think I can explain it satisfactorily, sir; but I must first ask -a few questions. Is your name Lewis? - -MR. L. It is. - -MR. C. How long have you occupied this house? - -MR. L. (_puzzled_). About a month. - -MR. C. What was the name of the former occupant? - -MR. L. His name was Lewis, also. I bought the house of him. - -MR. C. _My_ name is Campbell. I am a brother of the other Mrs. Lewis. I -have been travelling abroad for the last two years, and arrived here late -last evening. Having a latch-key, and being ignorant of the change of -owners, I entered, but was disappointed at not finding any one at home. -The servant said the family were away at a party, and offered to conduct -me to my room when I was ready to retire. She said Mrs. Lewis _was -expecting her brother_. - -MRS. L. I was expecting him, but he didn’t come. - -MR. C. Under these circumstances, and misled by the name, I had no -suspicion that I was trespassing. I therefore told the servant I could -easily find the way to my room, as I had slept there many times before. I -must apologize to this lady (_turning to AUNT R._) for giving her such a -fright, which I assure her was entirely unintentional on my part. - -MR. L. (_laughing_). Your explanation is perfectly satisfactory, sir. Mr. -Arthur Lewis lives three blocks farther down-town. But it is late, and -you must be our guest for the remainder of the night. We will furnish you -with another bed, and—— - -A. R. (_interrupting him indignantly_). Do you suppose I would sleep in -that bed after a man had slept there? Never! Let him stay here the rest -of the night, if he wants to. I shall sleep in the other chamber myself. - -PHIL. That’s it, Aunt Rachel. Stand up for your rights. - -MRS. L. Very well, let it be arranged so. And we’d better all retire, for -it is already an hour past midnight. - -MR. C. I thank you all for your hospitality, and hope in the morning to -be able to vindicate my character more fully. - -MR. L. That is quite unnecessary. Your statement is entirely -satisfactory. (_Turns to go out, L._) - -PHIL. (_to A. R._) Hadn’t you better take your braids and curls and -things, Aunt Rachel? Mr. Campbell won’t have any use for them, and you -look better with them on than you do without. - -A. R. (_hastily putting her hand to head—mortified_). I didn’t expect, -when I put this cap on, to receive callers. (_Goes and gets things from -table._) - -MR. C. You are very excusable, under the circumstances. - -A. R. (_bowing_). Then I will bid you good-night. - - MR. L. ⎫ - MRS. L. ⎬ (_bowing_). Good-night. - AGNES ⎪ - MR. C. ⎭ - -PHILIP (_bowing_). Good _morning_. - -(_Exeunt, L., MR. L., MRS. L., AGNES, AUNT R. and PHILIP. MR. C. -remains._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -THE HYPOCHONDRIAC CURED. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MR. CROWELL, A Hypochondriac. - MARIA DAVIDSON, His Niece. - MRS. FOSTER, His Housekeeper. - MR. PRESTON, A Friend, disguised as a Policeman. - - - SCENE I.—_The house-keeper’s room. MRS. FOSTER (an elderly - person wearing spectacles) sits knitting, L. MARIA enters R., - and sits down, wearily._ - -MRS. FOSTER. Well, Maria, you look tired enough. - -MARIA. I do feel rather tired. - -MRS. F. (_emphatically_). It’s a shame for any man to be so trying as -your uncle is. He hasn’t any business to be so, even if he is sick. It’s -nothing but scold and fret from morning till night. And the more you do, -the more you may. You can’t please him any way you can fix it. - -M. I’ve tried to please him, but haven’t succeeded. Now I’m going to see -if I can’t cure him both of his fault-finding and his sickness. - -MRS. F. How is that? - -M. I think of inviting him to go away on a visit. - -MRS. F. I don’t believe he will go. He has an idea that he’s very sick; -but, for my part, I think it’s because he wants to make himself a -nuisance. - -M. Hush, Mrs. Foster! You forget he is my uncle, and therefore entitled -to my respect and attention. - -MRS. F. Well, I don’t see how you can stand it. I’d as soon wait on the -old boy himself. - -M. (_smiling_). I hope you don’t compare my uncle to that renowned -personage? - -MRS. F. Well, I don’t know which I’d rather wait on. He’s the most -contrary man I ever knew. (_A knock is heard on the floor outside, R._) - -M. Hark! (_In listening attitude, and with uplifted finger. Knock -repeated._) There’s my uncle’s knock. He’s awake and wants me. - - (_Exit, R._) - -MRS. F. It’s a wicked shame for him to make such a slave of her. He’s a -real torment. (_Knits vigorously—starts as if suddenly remembering._) -But there, I promised to go over and sit with old Miss Barnard this -afternoon. I guess I’ll go, and take my knitting. - - (_Exit. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_MR. CROWELL’S chamber. MR. C. apparently asleep, on - lounge, C. He opens his eyes. No one else present._ - -MR. CROWELL (_in a querulous tone_). Where’s Maria? She’s always gone -when I want her. I might die here, and nobody’d know anything about it. -(_Knocks on floor with cane. MARIA enters, R._) - -M. Are you awake, uncle? - -MR. C. Awake? Of course I am. I’ve been awake this half hour. You might -have heard me knocking long ago, if you were not deaf. - -M. I came up as soon as I heard your knock. And how does your head feel? - -MR. C. A great deal worse. And my face is hot. I’m sure that I am going -to have a fever. - -M. The doctor said it was only a cold. - -MR. C. Doctors don’t know everything. Did you bring me up a cup of tea? - -M. No; you didn’t say anything about it, did you? - -MR. C. Well, I supposed you’d know that I should need something by this -time. - -M. It was only an hour ago that you took a bowl of gruel, and I didn’t -think you would wish for anything more so soon. - -MR. C. It was full three hours ago. And I want a cup of tea,—hot, mind -you,—just as soon as I can have it. - - (_Exit MARIA, R._) - -MR. C. (_soliloquizing_). It is strange that some people haven’t sense -enough to know what a sick person wants, without being told everything. I -always thought Maria was a good nurse; but she is no better than the rest -of them. (_Enter MARIA._) - -M. Here is a nice cup of tea for you, uncle. - -MR. C. (_tastes it—throws down the spoon and turns his head away_). It’s -hot enough to take the skin off my mouth. I don’t want any more. Throw it -away. - -(_MARIA pours it away. She then takes a fan, and gently fans the invalid. -He bears it a moment, then says_:) - -MR. C. Don’t keep that fan going; I shall take more cold. - -M. You said your face was hot. - -MR. C. Well, I don’t want to be cooled off so suddenly. Let me taste of -that tea again. - -M. I threw it away. - -MR. C. (_in surprise_). Threw my tea away? - -M. Yes, you told me to. You said you didn’t want it. - -MR. C. I should think you might know by this time that I don’t mean what -I say. Get me some more, quick. - -(_MARIA goes out. During her absence MR. C. remains quiet, and with his -eyes closed. She soon returns._) - -MR. C. Why didn’t you stay all day? - -M. I hurried all I could, uncle; you know I had to wait for the tea to -get hot. (_Tasting._) It’s very nice. - -MR. C. (_shaking his head_). I’ve got all off the notion for it, now. - -M. Won’t you have some of it? - -MR. C. No; I’ve lost all desire for it. (_M. places tea on the table. A -knock is heard._) Who’s that making such a racket? - -M. I’ll go and see. (_Goes out—soon returns._) It’s Mr. Preston, uncle. -He wishes to know how you are. - -MR. C. Tell him it’s none of his business. - -M. Yes, uncle. (_Goes out—soon returns._) - -MR. C. Well, what did he say? - -M. He seemed quite angry. - -MR. C. Angry at what, pray? - -M. I suppose at being told it was none of his business. - -MR. C. Maria, you didn’t tell him that? - -M. Yes, I did, uncle. You told me to tell him it was none of his -business, and he said he shouldn’t trouble you by calling again. - -MR. C. (_angrily_). Haven’t you got sense enough to know that I don’t -mean what I say? - -M. I supposed, of course, you meant what you said, though I didn’t -exactly like to repeat your message to him. - -MR. C. (_after a pause_). I guess I’ll try a little of the tea, Maria. -(_She brings it._) - -MR. C. (_languidly_). You’ll have to feed me, Maria, I’m so weak. - -M. Yes, uncle. (_Places napkin under chin, and proceeds to feed him._) - -MR. C. Stop—stop—it’s hot. You’re choking me. (_But MARIA keeps on._) - -MR. C. (_moving quickly one side_).—Sto-op. Can’t you understand plain -English? I don’t believe there’s a particle of skin left on my tongue. -What do you mean? - -M. You told me I ought to know by this time that you didn’t mean what you -said. So I supposed I was to go on, at any rate. - -MR. C. It’s horrible tasting stuff. You’ve been putting pepper into it. -While you were about it, why didn’t you put in vinegar, too? - -(_MARIA, without a word, goes to the table, takes up the vinegar-cruet, -and pours vinegar into the cup._) - -MR. C. (_starting up_). Maria Davidson, I believe you are either a fool -or insane. - -(_MARIA sits down, and begins to cry. MR. C. gazes at her in -astonishment. A drumming is heard outside, R._) - -MR. C. (_putting his hands to his head_). Oh, my poor head! my poor head! -Maria, take my pistol from the closet, and shoot the rascal. (_She goes -to the closet, gets the pistol, and fires, according to his direction._) - -MR. C. What the deuce has got into the girl! (_He starts up, and goes to -the window, L.,—mechanically takes up the pistol which MARIA had laid -down. She glides out by one door, R., and immediately a policeman enters -by another, L._) - -POLICEMAN. So here you are. I’ll just slip on these bracelets, so you -won’t do any more mischief. - -MR. C. (_drawing back_). What do you mean by insulting me in such a -manner? - -P. You’ve been attempting to murder a man. - -MR. C. No, I haven’t. - -P. Didn’t you fire a pistol from the window just now? - -MR. M. No, I didn’t fire it. - -P. Who did fire it, then? - -MR. C. (_hesitating_). Why, I—you see—it was—my niece that fired it. - -P. (_looking around room_). That’s a likely story. If she fired the -pistol, where is she now? - -MR. C. She went out a few minutes ago. - -P. You can’t come that dodge on me. It was only a moment ago that it was -done, and there’s no one but you in the room, and I found you with the -pistol in your hand. You must come along with me. - -MR. C. But I can’t—I’m sick. - -P. (_taking a look at him_). You don’t appear to be dangerously sick. I -guess you’re able to go with me. - -MR. C. But I had the doctor this morning. I’m quite feverish, and it -might cause my death to go out. - -P. If you’re sick you shall have a doctor to prescribe for you. Come -along. (_Takes him by shoulder._) - - (_Exeunt, L._) - -MARIA (_entering, soliloquizing_). My plot has been carried out well thus -far. I don’t think uncle recognized the policeman. It is astonishing how -the habit of complaining gains on one. But if a person is unreasonable, -and given to complaining, there is nothing that will effect a cure so -soon as _taking him at his word_. (_Uncle enters, L._) Ah, have you -returned so soon, uncle? I have felt quite anxious about you, fearing -you might take more cold. - -MR. C. You are a very successful little manager, Maria, upon my word. I -felt mortified enough on starting from my own house in the character of a -criminal. But I could blame no one but myself, since my orders were all -obeyed, not only very promptly, but _very literally_. Then I thought what -an unreasonable bear I was, and what a patient little nurse you were, and -by the time we stopped I had become quite subdued. Then I discovered that -the policeman was my old and valued friend, Mr. Preston. It all flashed -upon my mind that it was a plot to bring me to my senses, and to show how -unreasonable I was. - -M. Oh, no, uncle, not that exactly. We only aimed to show you that you -imagined yourself worse than you really were. But hadn’t you better lie -down awhile? You are not accustomed to such exertion. - -MR. C. No; I am thoroughly cured in mind and body. Nothing would tempt -me to personate again the miserable hypochondriac I was when I left the -house. I am cured, and I mean to stay so. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -AUNT PATIENCE’S EAR-TRUMPET. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MRS. GRANBY. - CLARA, Her Daughter. - AUNT PATIENCE BURTON, a Lady of Property. - ERNEST MONTGOMERY, Clara’s Suitor. - SERVANT. - - - SCENE I.—_MRS. GRANBY’S sitting-room. MRS. G., C., with sober - countenance, holds in her hand an open letter, on which her - eyes are fixed. Enter her daughter CLARA, R._ - -CLARA. Does your letter contain any sad news, ma? - -MRS. GRANBY. Not exactly _sad_ news,—but _disagreeable_, to say the least. - -C. (_interested_). What is it? - -MRS. G. (_glancing at letter_). This is a letter from Aunt Patience -Burton. She is coming to make us a visit. - -C. That is _horrible_ news. I shouldn’t want Ernest to see her—she is so -fussy and homely. - -MRS. G. He will, no doubt, feel as we do, that money is of more -consequence than a handsome face. Besides, we shan’t be troubled with her -long. - -C. How long do you suppose she will stop here? - -MRS. G. A week or two, I suppose. That is the usual length of her visits. - -C. (_with the air of a martyr_). Well, I suppose we must try to endure -her presence for that length of time—hoping for our final reward. - -MRS. G. (_in a brighter tone_). If she could only be persuaded into -making her will in our favor, I shouldn’t consider the trouble of having -her here anything. - -C. How much is she supposed to be worth? - -MRS. G. About thirty thousand dollars. - -C. Just think how much more that amount would benefit us than it does -her. I dare say she hoards it up like a miser. - -MRS. G. (_smiling_). That will be all the better for us. - -C. Yes, if we get it. But when does the letter say she is coming? - -MRS. G. I did not notice particularly. Let me see. (_Looks over -letter—reads_:) “You may expect me Friday, the twenty-fifth, wind and -weather permitting.” - -C. (_interrupting_). The twenty-fifth! Why, that’s to-day! (_Bell rings -outside._) - -MRS. G. And there is the bell. I shouldn’t be at all surprised if that -were she. (_Both rise._) - -(_Enter, L., a prim, elderly lady, with corkscrew curls, and wearing an -old-fashioned bonnet._) - -MRS. G. (_greeting her with a smile of welcome, and shaking hands -warmly_). Why, Aunt Patience, how glad I am to see you! Clara and I were -just speaking of you. - -AUNT PRUDENCE (_diving into the recesses of an ample pocket_). Wait a -minute, Elviry. (_Takes out an ear-trumpet, which she adjusts to her -ear._) There, now we can talk. - -MRS. G. (_in a loud tone_). I had no idea you were so deaf, aunt. - -A. P. I’m getting old, you know, and can’t expect to keep my faculties -like younger people. But where’s Clara? - -MRS. G. This is Clara. (_Steps aside for her daughter to approach._) -Didn’t you recognize her? - -A. P. No, she’s grown so I didn’t know her. How d’ye do, dear? - -C. (_shaking hands_). How do you do, aunt? I’m glad to see you here. - -A. P. Thank ye, child. It’s pleasant to find that old folks aint always -forgotten and wished out of the way. - -MRS. G. (_in a loud voice_). Let me assist you in taking off your bonnet. - -A. P. You needn’t speak so loud when I have my trumpet. - -MRS. G. Then you can hear without using it? - -A. P. Yes, but not without you speak pretty loud. (_Lays her trumpet -down._) - -MRS. G. (_taking aunt’s bonnet, and carrying it to table. Addressing -daughter._) You see, she’s as deaf as can be. (_Old lady sits down._) - -C. That’s lucky. We can relieve our minds without her hearing us. Is she -going to stay long? - -MRS. G. I don’t know. I will ask her. (_In a loud voice:_) I hope you are -going to make us a long visit. - -A. P. I shan’t be able to stop more than a month. But perhaps it won’t be -convenient for you to have me with you so long. - -MRS. G. (_in a loud tone to aunt_). We shall be delighted (_in a lower -tone to her daughter_) when you go away. That’s true, isn’t it, Clara? - -C. Yes, indeed. But (_dismally_) do you suppose we can live through the -month? - -MRS. G. We must try to, for the sake of the money. (_To AUNT P._) Have -you been well, lately, aunt? - -A. P. No, I’ve enjoyed dreadful poor health this winter. I’ve been most -dead with roomatiz and I haven’t got over it yet. - -MRS. G. It must have been hard to bear. - -A. P. Yes, it made me feel as if I ought to make my will, and I think I -shall make it as soon as I get home again. - -MRS. G. Oh, you have many years yet to live, aunt. - -A. P. I can see well enough that I am getting old, and cannot live long, -anyway. I get tired out very easy. I think I shall have to ask you to -show me to the room I am to occupy, and I will lie down awhile. I aint -much used to travelling, and it tires me. - -MRS. G. Shan’t I get you a cup of tea, aunt? - -A. P. Oh, no. All I need is a little rest. - - (_Exit, R._) - -MRS. G. There, I think we have made a good impression. If she only makes -a will in our favor, I shall consider the attentions we pay her a good -investment. - -C. But suppose she shouldn’t leave her money to us? - -MRS. G. Oh, don’t let your imagination run in that direction. We must -manage to get into her good graces, so that we may become her heirs. - -C. Well, I will do all I can to bring about so desirable a result. - - (_Exit MRS. G., R. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_The same. AUNT P., R., knitting. Clara, C., sitting - idly, with book in her hand._ - -A. P. Didn’t you hear the bell just now, Clara? - -C. Yes, I am expecting a friend here to-night. Ah (_rising as ERNEST -MONTGOMERY enters, L._), good-evening, Ernest. - -ERNEST MONTGOMERY. Good-evening. You were expecting me, I suppose. - -C. Of course I was. I always remember appointments. But I suppose I must -introduce you to my aunt. (_In a loud tone_:) Aunt Patience, this is Mr. -Montgomery. - -A. P. (_extending her hand to the young man_). I am very glad to see him. - -C. (_to E. M._). We shan’t need to take any further notice of her. She’s -deaf as an adder, and can’t hear a word without her trumpet unless we -scream at her. I believe you never saw her before. - -E. M. No. - -C. She isn’t very handsome, is she? - -E. M. Aren’t you afraid she’ll hear you? - -C. Oh no, she’s too deaf. - -E. M. But deaf people generally hear things that are not intended for -their ears. - -C. Well, I’ll run the risk. When we speak to her she seldom hears the -first time. - -A. P. What was that you said? - -C. (_in a loud tone_). Only that it was so long since you had been here -that we should try to make you have a pleasant time. - -A. P. (_in a satisfied tone_). Oh, was that it? Thank you, child. - -E. M. (_with admiration_). You got out of that well. - -C. Trust me for that. When one has a rich aunt, it is the best to keep on -the right side of her. - -A. P. Did you speak to me, Clara? - -C. No; I was telling Mr. Montgomery how fond I was of cider. - -A. P. I used to like cider when I was a girl; but that was the genuine -article, and we used to go to the mill where they made it, and take it -through a straw. - -E. M. (_interested_). So your aunt is rich? - -C. Yes; she is said to be worth thirty thousand dollars. - -E. M. That’s quite a fortune. - -A. P. (_as if talking to herself_). Yes; deafness is quite a misfortune; -but one doesn’t mind it so much when they’re stopping among their own -relations. - -C. (_smiling_). Yes, it is quite a fortune, and of course we put up with -her oddities for the sake of the money, which will, most of it, come to -us. - -E. M. She may outlive you. - -C. That’s what I’m afraid of. It would be just our luck to have her live -to be a hundred. - -E. M. How old is she now? - -C. About sixty-five. - -E. M. Then you would only have to wait thirty-five years for it. - -C. We might as well never have her money as to wait so long as that for -it. - -E. M. It would be rather a long while, that’s a fact. By that time you -would look as your aunt does now. Do you know, I think you resemble her -very much? - -C. (_tapping him playfully with her fan_). Take that for your -impertinence, sir. I must be a charming damsel, if that were the case. - -E. M. So I thought; which was why I made the remark. - -C. (_flushing_). I don’t esteem it any compliment. - -A. P. What was that you said, Clara? - -C. I was saying to Mr. Montgomery that people seldom say what they mean. - -A. P. (_nodding_). That’s true—that’s true enough. (_After a -pause—holding up knitting._) Well, there, I’ve got that stocking pretty -well along, and haven’t been knitting a great while, either. Mr. -Montgomery, may I trouble you to tell me what time it is? - -E. M. It is no trouble, madam, I assure you. (_Looks at watch._) It is -about (_hesitates_) five minutes past ten. - -A. P. Five minutes past ten! I had no idea ’twas so late. (_Gathers -up her knitting._) That’s long past the time I usually go to bed. -Good-night, Mr. Montgomery; good-night, Clara. - -C. Good-night, aunt. - -E. M. Good-evening, madam. - - (_Exit AUNT PATIENCE, R._) - -C. What made you tell her it was so late? It isn’t more than nine o’clock. - -E. M. (_looking at watch_). It is just half-past eight. But although -I enjoyed her society exceedingly, I was willing to deny myself that -pleasure for the sake of having a little private conversation with you -on a very important matter. (_CLARA casts down her eyes. MR. MONTGOMERY -draws his chair near hers, and takes her hand._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_The same. MRS. GRANBY, R., and CLARA, L., present._ - -C. Doesn’t it seem a great relief to have Aunt Patience gone? - -MRS. G. I must say that it does. I was constantly anxious for fear she -would learn our real feelings, though I flatter myself we concealed them -quite carefully. - -C. I don’t believe she suspected at all that we were glad her visit was -over. Deaf people are most always obtuse. - -MRS. G. I hope it may prove so, for her money would be a great help to -us. In fact, I don’t see how we can get along without it. - -C. It would be very convenient if she would let us have an instalment of -a few thousands soon—before my marriage, for instance. - -MRS. G. Yes, in that case we could afford to send to Paris for your -trousseau. But has the time for the wedding been fixed? - -C. Yes; Ernest wishes it to take place in June. - -MRS. G. I spoke of your marriage as liable to take place soon, and hoped -Aunt Patience would take the hint; but she didn’t seem to. - -C. What reply did she make? - -MRS. G. She said she hadn’t anything special against Mr. Montgomery, but -that _she_ would never think of choosing _him_ for a husband. - -C. Perhaps he reciprocates her feelings. I don’t think it would be a -suitable match myself. - -MRS. G. (_smiling_). Being an interested party, perhaps you are not a -suitable judge. - -(_SERVANT enters, R., bearing a letter, which she passes to MRS. G._) - -MRS. G. (_surprised_). A letter from Aunt Patience, as I live! - -SERVANT. Yes, ma’am, and there’s a box downstairs, with one end of the -old lady’s ear-trumpet sticking out of it. - -MRS. G. Very well, you may let it remain there for the present. - - (_Exit SERVANT, R._) - -C. (_clasping her hands, while an expression of horror overspreads her -face_). Don’t say Aunt Patience is coming back again. I certainly think I -couldn’t survive such an event. - -MRS. G. (_who has read the letter—quite soberly_). It is worse than that. - -C. Worse! I don’t know of anything that could be worse than another visit -from Aunt Patience. - -MRS. G. Very well—read the letter and satisfy yourself. - -C. (_Taking the letter, which she reads aloud:_) - - “NIECE ELVIRA: Thinking you might be anxious to hear from me, I - write to say that I reached home safely. But since my arrival I - have had an attack of rheumatic fever. Therefore, feeling that - life is uncertain, yesterday I made my will. Before visiting - you I had decided to leave my property to you; but I changed - my mind, and have concluded to leave it to the Home for Aged - Women, a charitable institution, where it will, I hope, do a - great deal of good. - - “I shall not visit you again. It would be too much of a tax on - you to ask you to put up with my odd ways. As you remarked to - Clara when I came that you would be delighted to have me go, - this information will doubtless be pleasing to you. Besides, I - have a presentiment that I shall not live long, notwithstanding - Clara’s fears to the contrary. - - “Although deaf as an adder when I came to visit you, my hearing - has been wonderfully restored, so that I can now dispense with - my ear-trumpet. I therefore send it to you, hoping it may do - you as good service as it did me, in showing me for what I was - valued most. - - “AUNT PATIENCE.” - -(_MRS. G. and CLARA look blankly at each other._) - -MRS. G. So it seems we are not to have any of Aunt Patience’s money after -all. - -C. (_indignantly_). It’s a real mean thing for any one to be so -deceitful—going round pretending to be deaf. I’m glad she isn’t coming -here again. I couldn’t endure the sight of her. - -SERV. (_entering, R._). Here’s a note that Mr. Montgomery left for you. - -C. (_surprised_). Has he been here? - -SERV. Yes, he came just after the expressman brought the box. - -C. But why didn’t he stop? - -S. He heard you reading the letter, and he said he couldn’t stop but a -moment; a message would do just as well as seeing you. So he wrote this -note in the drawing-room, and asked me to give it to you. (_CLARA gazes -at the note. SERVANT goes out, R._) - -MRS. G. Why don’t you read your note? - -C. I am so surprised. (_Unfolds the paper—reads aloud:_) - - “MISS CLARA GRANBY: I have received an appointment which - will carry me to India, and I am to sail for that place this - afternoon. I called to bid you good-by, but finding you - engaged, and being myself in great haste, I make my adieu on - paper. As I may be gone for a long time, perhaps a number of - years, I deem it my duty to release you from your engagement. - - “ERNEST MONTGOMERY.” - -MRS. G. What does it mean? - -C. (_contemptuously_). It means that he overheard enough of Aunt -Patience’s letter to know that we are not to have any of her property; so -he has magnanimously released me from my engagement. - -MRS. G. But what are you going to do about it? - -C. Do? I don’t know as there is anything to be done. In fact, my present -feelings of indifference towards him show that my affections were not -involved, and I am well satisfied to have him leave me as he has done. As -to Aunt Patience, I guess we can get along without any of her money. I -have several accomplishments that can be turned to account if necessity -requires it. - -MRS. G. (_with motherly solicitude, and looking at the matter from a -practical point of view_). But young ladies who earn their own living are -considered strong-minded, and never get married. I couldn’t bear to have -you an old maid. - -C. (_calmly_). Well, I don’t know as that would be a terrible fate. It -would be a more independent life than marriage would give me. On the -whole, I think I shall decide to live a single life. (_Smiling._) Still, -as an old lady of eighty once said: “I’ve made up my mind not to get -married, and I don’t expect to; but if the Lord should see fit to send me -a good husband, I should try to be resigned.” - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -THE GHOSTLY VISITATION. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MRS. FLORA WILLIS, A Young Widow. - MRS. LAWRENCE, Her Mother. - ALFRED PERCIVAL, Flora’s Suitor. - - - SCENE I.—_MRS. LAWRENCE’S parlor. MRS. L., R., FLORA, C., and - MR. PERCIVAL, L., present._ - -FLORA. Oh, yes, mother believes in ghosts, and haunted houses, and all -those things, and I suppose that, as a dutiful daughter, I ought to do -the same; but I haven’t very much faith in them. - -MR. PERCIVAL. Perhaps, if you had had any experience in that direction, -you might feel differently about the matter. I never believed in haunted -houses till I visited Charlie Baldwin, my former chum, last summer. - -F. Do tell us all about it. I should like to hear a real nice ghost story. - -MRS. LAWRENCE. I think we’d better wait till daylight before listening to -a story of that character. - -F. No, it’s just the time for it; it is cold and dark outside. We can -more easily imagine the events real. So go on, please, Mr. Percival. - -MR. P.—But my story is not a ghost story at all, and there is really -very little to tell. But we heard strange noises for which we could not -account. For instance, a door, which led from the house into the shed, -had swollen so that it was difficult to shut it, and whenever it was -opened and shut it creaked most musically, so that it could be heard in -all the lower rooms. One evening we were seated at the tea-table, when we -heard the door creaking. “Who is that coming in?” asked Mrs. Baldwin. “It -is very strange,” answered Charlie; “I am sure I closed and locked that -door not ten minutes ago.”—“Suppose we go out and see what it is,” said -Mr. Baldwin. “It certainly had a natural sound.” We all went out in a -body, and behold! the door was shut and fastened and everything all right. - -F. (_interested_). Did you hear any other noises while you were there? - -MR. P. Oh, yes, we frequently heard footsteps going up and down stairs -after we had gone to bed. Sometimes we could hear the chairs moved about -in the rooms below. And once, I remember, we heard a terrific noise, as -if the side of the house had fallen in. But the next morning everything -seemed as usual, and we laughed about the matter. - -F. But were you not startled? - -MR. P. Well, I cannot say I should like to live in that house long. - -MRS. L. If you had heard all these things, Flora, don’t you think you -would have faith to believe that there are some strange things which one -cannot account for? - -F. Oh, yes; “seeing is believing,” as the old saying is, and I suppose -_hearing_ is believing also. But I must ask you to excuse me now, Mr. -Percival, as I have a letter to write, which must go out by the next mail. - -MR. P. Though we are sorry to lose your company, we will grant you leave -of absence for a short time. (_Rises and opens the door for her, L. Exit -FLORA._) - -MR. P. (_sitting down near MRS. L._). The turn which the conversation -took just now suggested a plan to me, which, with your permission, I -should like to carry out. - -MRS. L. What is it? - -MR. P. You are, of course, aware that I love your daughter, and would -gladly marry her. She has rejected me, but still I think she likes me as -well or better than any one else. Now, cannot I, by stratagem, bring her -to consent to a marriage with me? - -MRS. L. I wish you might do so, and will gladly assist you in any way I -can. But what is your plan? - -MR. P. I thought I might, with your assistance, personate the spirit of -her former husband, and appear to her to-night while this conversation -is fresh in her mind, and warn her, if she wishes him to rest in peace, -that she must marry a certain Alfred Percival, who will make her a good -husband. - -MRS. L. It is a capital idea. I think the conversation seemed to affect -her considerably. Suppose you come here at ten o’clock to-night. I will -remain up, and arrange your ghostship. - -MR. P. Very well, I will do so. And I believe I will go now, as I have -some preparations to make. - - (_Exit MR. PERCIVAL, L. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_A curtain is arranged from front to back, dividing - the stage into two rooms, as both must be seen at once. There - must be a door between. In right-hand room is a lounge with - pillow and blanket. FLORA sits in rocking-chair, soliloquizing._ - -F. There’s something going on, I’m sure, but what it can be isn’t -quite clear to me. Mother has asked me half-a-dozen times if it wasn’t -bed-time; and yet she, herself, hasn’t made any preparation toward -retiring. I shall lie down, with my clothes on, ready for any emergency. -There’s no danger of sleep overtaking me. I feel as if I shouldn’t sleep -any at all to-night. - -(_She lies down on lounge, in right-hand room, and covers herself with -a blanket. A moment after, MRS. L. looks into FLORA’S room and seems -satisfied at seeing her apparently asleep. She goes out into left-hand -room. A tap is heard at outer door of left-hand room. Exit MRS. L._) - -F. Hark! what noise is that? (_Assumes a listening attitude._) - -(_Voices of MRS. L. and MR. P. are heard from behind the scenes._) - -MRS. L. (_outside_). I am glad you are so punctual. Everything is in -readiness. I just looked into Flora’s room and found she was fast asleep. - -MR. P. (_in rather a high key_). Where shall I go to arrange my costume? - -MRS. L. (_deprecatingly_). Hush! you mustn’t speak so loud, as her door -is ajar. Come with me, and we’ll soon have you fitted out. - -(_They enter left-hand room cautiously. A sheet lies unfolded on a chair. -This MRS. L. drapes around her companion. He gathers it together so as to -conceal his clothes._) - -MRS. L. It will never do to allow your features to show so plainly. You -are only Alfred Percival, after all. Flora would recognize you at once. - -MR. P. Suppose I put the sheet over my head? (_Does so._) Is that any -improvement? - -MRS. L. Yes; but still I think your features would betray you. Let me -think a moment. I have it. I will get Mr. Willis’s wig; that will be just -the thing. - -MR. P. So it will. That’s a good idea. (_She takes wig out of box. MR. P. -puts it on._) - -MRS. L. That’s capital. Now stoop a little, and no one would be likely to -recognize you, particularly if they had just waked. - -(_FLORA covers herself again and feigns sleep. MR. P. enters her room and -advances to lounge. FLORA moves uneasily; then opens her eyes, and fixes -them upon her visitor._) - -F. (_in apparent horror_). Who are you? - -MR. P. (_in sepulchral voice_). Flora Willis, I am the spirit of your -dead husband. - -F. But why do you appear to me in this way? If you are really he, why -should you come to me at the dead of night? - -MR. P. (_in hollow tones_). We, who are tenants of another sphere, mingle -not with mortals; and it is only when all eyes are closed in slumber that -we are permitted to walk the earth. - -F. (_gaining confidence_). But what is your object in coming? - -MR. P. (_slowly_). I come to warn and advise you. You are young, and, I -know, cherish my memory fondly; but I feel sure that you would be happier -and enjoy life more, if you should marry again. - -F. But who is there I should be happy with? - -MR. P. You have many suitors; choose among them. - -F. I’m afraid they want my money more than myself, and such a union would -cause a lifetime of misery. - -MR. P. You are mistaken. There is Alfred Percival. He would be a kind -husband. It is my wish that you marry him. Promise me that you will do so. - -F. I cannot promise; it is too sudden. - -MR. P. Think of it, then. One week from to-night I will visit you again. -(_Passes slowly out into left-hand room._) - -F. (_musing_). Well, that’s curious. I’ve heard ghost stories of almost -every description, but never before did I hear of a ghost making love. -For, though he intended to personate a spirit, he certainly spoke of -himself. And I suppose he is congratulating himself on having completely -deceived me. (_Suddenly._) I’d like to know what he and mother are saying -about it. And why can’t I? They are only in the next room. - -(_She rises and creeps cautiously to the door, which stands ajar. MR. P. -has laid aside his ghostly covering and is in the act of passing his wig -to MRS. L. FLORA listens._) - -MRS. L. Then you think she did not suspect you? - -MR. P. Apparently not. She appeared quite startled at first, but soon -regained her composure. - -MRS. L. I suppose it would be better not to allude to the subject -to-morrow. - -MR. P. Not on any account. That would tend to arouse her suspicions. I -wouldn’t have her know that I took part in the stratagem. - -MRS. L. And what do you expect will come of it? Of course she would not -be likely to come forward and tell you that she was willing to marry you, -even if she felt favorably inclined toward you. - -MR. P. (_hesitatingly_). I think I shall call upon her to-morrow, and -then I shall be governed entirely by circumstances. - - (_FLORA hurries back to the lounge. MR. PERCIVAL - goes out, L. MRS. L. cautiously goes and looks in - at FLORA, who appears to be asleep. Exit MRS. L., R. - Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_Parlor. FLORA present, C. She is arranging flowers - in a vase._ - -F. (_soliloquizing_). So Mr. Percival is going to call on me to-day. It -is quite fortunate I happened to overhear his plans. I suppose he will -repeat that momentous question again, and I’ve about made up my mind to -accept him. Then the matter will be settled, and I shan’t be worried any -more by his importunities. Besides, he is a person of good standing, -and I don’t know as I love any one else more; and I don’t think he is -after my money. (_A pause in which she completes the arrangement of the -flowers. MR. P. enters._) - -F. (_advancing toward him_). Ah, Mr. Percival, I was just thinking of -you, and you know the old saying, “If you think of the angels, you’ll -soon hear the rustling of their wings.” - -MR. P. Excuse me, but I never heard it expressed in that way before. It -has been told me in this wise: His Satanic Majesty is always near when -you’re talking of him. - -F. I must say my version is more complimentary than yours. - -MR. P. So do I, and I draw encouragement from that fact. If you were -thinking of me, I take it as a favorable omen, and shall consider that I -am not so disagreeable to you as I feared I was. - -F. (_interrupting_). Oh, by the way, Mr. Percival, I had quite an -adventure last night. I saw a real, _bona fide_ ghost. - -MR. P. Did you really? - -F. Yes; as I was quietly dozing, a tall figure, clad in white, stalked -into my room, and when I opened my eyes I beheld him close beside me, and -looking down upon my face. - -MR. P. (_avoiding her eyes_). And what did he say? - -F. (laughing). Oh, he pretended to be the spirit of my former husband, -and said I must marry again. - -MR. P. (_taking both her hands in his_). Why will you not heed his -advice? Let me, too, add my solicitations. Marry me, Flora, and you shall -never have cause to regret it. (_He anxiously waits her reply._) - -F. (_looking up into his face with an amused smile_). Why, Mr. Percival, -how much you remind me of my last night’s visitor! The expression of your -face, and the lines about your mouth—all but the white sheet and wig. - -MR. P. (_changing color_). I see that you know all; but grant me a -favorable answer, and I shall be well satisfied. - -F. (_smiling_). I suppose I ought to, since it is decided on high -authority that it is right and proper I should do so. In that way, if -in no other, I shall convince you that I am not afraid of ghosts, if I -promise to marry one. - -MR. P. (_warmly_). And I shall feel well repaid for personating one by -the promised reward. Henceforth I shall look with kindness on shadowy -apparitions, feeling that, in other cases as well as my own, even ghosts -may be of some practical use. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -PRACTICAL HUSBANDRY. - - -CHARACTERS. - - FRANK WEBSTER, A Young Man from the City. - EDWIN ALDRICH, His Friend. - MRS. LEIGHTON, A Farmer’s Wife. - ANNIE MONTGOMERY, Her Niece. - - - SCENE I.—_FRANK is seated, R., in the depths of an arm-chair, - his feet resting on the table. He is smoking a cigar. Enter - EDWIN, L._ - -EDWIN. Well, Frank, you look decidedly cosey and comfortable, that’s a -fact. - -FRANK (_not altering his position, but motioning his visitor to a seat_). -That’s the way to do. One might as well enjoy life as he goes along. Have -a cigar, Aldrich? (_Offers him an open case, in which are cigars._) - -E. (_throwing himself on a lounge, L. C._). No, Frank, I believe not. The -fact is, I’ve reformed—given up smoking. - -F. Whew! I’ll wager that’s one of the consequences of matrimony. - -E. I don’t deny it. But I think smoking is a bad habit, and have thought -of giving it up before, but never could persevere till now. That reminds -me, Frank; why don’t you marry? I dare say you could find some one in the -city foolish enough to take you for better or worse. And you don’t know -what a comfort ’tis to a man to have a good wife and a pleasant home. - -F. That’s where the trouble is (_fondly stroking his mustache_). As -you say, I could easily persuade some one to marry me, knowing as they -do that I possess plenty of money. But don’t you think it would make a -difference if I were a poor man? - -E. I dare say it might with some persons; but all are not alike. I am -sure there are many who esteem wealth of less importance than personal -worth. - -F. (_assuming a sitting posture, and laying cigar down_). I have often -thought I should like to marry; but when I looked around among the ladies -with whom I was brought in contact, I became disgusted to see what -frivolous lives they led. - -E. But all women are not alike, Frank. - -F. That may be so, but where shall I go to look for a different class? I -have strong domestic tastes, and would be glad to change my present state -of single blessedness for a married life. If I could find my ideal of a -wife, I would marry at once. - -E. I’ll tell you what it is, Frank. You must go into the country. The -girls are mostly sensible there, and think less about dress and fashion. -You can assume another name, and then look around you, and become -acquainted with some of the country girls. My wife was born and brought -up in the country, so I can speak from experience. - -F. But how could I manage? I couldn’t go to a hotel and stop with nothing -to do. Country girls are ambitious as well as those who live in the city, -and if I remained there with no occupation, I should be supposed to be a -man of some property, and I shouldn’t be much better off than I am here. - -E. That’s so, my friend. I never gave you credit for so much shrewdness. -But isn’t there anything you could do,—any kind of business, I mean? - -F. I have it. I’ll hire myself out on a farm. In that way, as one -of the family, I shall become more intimately acquainted with the -neighborhood—girls included. - -E. Imagine fastidious Benjamin Franklin Webster dressed in coarse -clothes and cowhide boots! (_Looking upward._) Shades of the illustrious -men whose names he bears, look down with benignity on the depth of -degradation to which he proposes to descend! - -F. (_smiling_). That’ll do, Ed. I am only following the example of at -least one of those illustrious men in working on a farm. - -E. And those delicate hands, that never did any manual labor, are to be -used in milking the cows and holding the plough! - -F. Laugh away, Ed. I’ve made my plans, and now I’m going to carry them -out. - -E. But, seriously, will your strength hold out? - -F. Without doubt. Besides, every one says farming is the most healthful -occupation any one can follow. So you may expect to see me back in the -fall so stout and fleshy that my friends will hardly know me. - -E. And perhaps you will bring Mrs. Benjamin Franklin Webster with you. - -F. That’s very uncertain. I haven’t really very great faith in the -project myself; but I’m tired of my present way of living, and any change -will be welcome, even if it does not bring about the desired result. - -E. But how are you going to obtain the situation? - -F. How am I? (_Smiling._) That’s the question before the meeting. - -E. Suppose you advertise for one. That would be the best way, I think. - -F. The very thing. Couldn’t you write an advertisement for me, Ed? You -know I’m modest, and couldn’t, of course, speak of my qualifications as -well as you could. - -(_EDWIN takes sheet of paper from the table, and writes for a few -moments; then reads it._) - -E. (_reading_). “WANTED—By a young man, a situation on a farm. Is willing -to work for moderate wages, provided he can learn the business. Address -Franklin Forrester, Box 68.” How will that do, Frank? - -F. I guess that’ll answer. But what paper would it be best to insert it -in? The evening “Herald”? - -E. Oh no, that wouldn’t do. It must be an agricultural paper. Better put -it into several; then you will be more sure of a reply. - -F. I’ll insert it in every agricultural paper in the city. If I get one -reply from each, I shall have at least six. - -E. Very well. If one has an object in view, there’s nothing like taking -every method to accomplish it. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_FRANK seated C., before a table covered with - letters. Enter EDWIN, L._ - -E. Well, I must say the agricultural papers in the city have a goodly -number of subscribers, judging from appearances. This is the first -edition of letters, I suppose. - - (_Exit, L._) - -F. Yes, and, judging from the slight examination I have made, it already -needs to be revised and corrected. But there’s no doubt about my getting -a situation, Ed. You see what a demand there is for my services. Sixty -letters already! I can almost imagine myself at the head of a village -post-office. - -E. The quality may not be as satisfactory as the quantity. But if all -these letters are to be examined, we must to work, and use diligence too. -Suppose you open them, and read them aloud. - -F. That’s a good way. Here’s one written in a wretched hand, which I will -read first. - -(_Cutting off one end of the envelope he draws out a piece of paper about -six inches square, which runs thus:_) - -F. (_reading_). - - “Mister Forrister: I seen your notis in the paper yisterdy. And - sez I to myself, I don’t bleeve I cood do better than to hire - that man. My bizness is diggin’ wells, wich is one branch of - farmin’, becoz every farm has to have one or more. As you say - you’re a green hand, I should expec you to pay your bord for - the fust month. I’d give you your bord the second month for - your work. After that we’d talk about wages, though I coodn’t - pay much. When cood you kum? - - “Yours to command, - - “SOLOMON PORCUPINE.” - -E. (_laughing_). Ha! ha! ha! That’s a good one. If you go there you’ll -be sure to learn one branch of the business pretty thoroughly. Shall you -accept, and become a member of Mr. Porcupine’s family? By the way, he has -a charming name. - -F. Yes, characteristic, I dare say. Accept the first chance? No indeed; -not as long as I have fifty-nine more left. (_Opens another letter._) But -what is this? - -E. I’m all attention. - -F. (_reading_). Mr. Forrester: “I notice by my paper that you want to -learn to farm. I should like to teach you ‘what I know about farming.’ It -would take some time to do it, but I would warrant you a good knowledge -of farming in six years. You couldn’t fail to get a thorough knowledge -of the business, as I should let you do all the work. My health is poor, -and I am only able to oversee the work. As you want a situation, you may -as well consider yourself engaged. I shall expect you next Monday. HORACE -GREGORY.” - -F. Well! that’s cool! I am afraid that man is troubled by a disease -called indolence. But, Ed, we are getting along too slowly. Suppose you -and I read letters as fast as we can, and if either of us finds one that -we consider suitable it shall be read aloud. If not, it shall be thrown -into the waste basket. - -E. Agreed. - -(_They look over letters very hurriedly, occasionally laughing aloud as -they read something which excites their mirth. At length EDWIN says:_) - -E. Here, Frank, here’s just the place for you. Shall I read? - -F. Do so by all means. I am nearly discouraged. - -E. (_reading_). “Franklin Forrester, Esq.—Dear Sir: Uncle William wishes -me to write to you concerning an advertisement of yours which he read in -our paper. He judges from it that you are not accustomed to working on -a farm. He has already two men, but wishes a little more help, provided -arrangements satisfactory to both parties could be made. He is willing -to pay whatever is reasonable as regard wages, but not knowing how much -you can do, he can say nothing more definite. If you wish any further -information, a letter directed to William Leighton, Ballardvale, Vermont, -will receive prompt attention. But if you prefer to come without -writing, uncle will be glad to see you at any time after the receipt of -this letter.” - -F. (_eagerly_). What is the signature? - -F. There is none, but it is evidently a lady’s hand. What do you think of -it? - -F. I think I shall start for Ballardvale to-morrow. - -E. That’s a wise conclusion. You will be back by Christmas, I doubt not. -Probably by that time you will have become a practical farmer. - -F. (_absently_). Time will show. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_Sitting-room at MR. LEIGHTON’S. Time, evening. - MRS. LEIGHTON, C., ANNIE, R., and FRANK, L., present. FRANK is - dressed in a coarse suit. MRS. L. is knitting._ - -MRS. LEIGHTON. Well, Mr. Forrester, how do you like your first day’s -experience on a farm? - -F. Very much, indeed. But, you know, I have not had any work to do yet. -Mr. Leighton, unlike most employers, has given me a vacation to start -with. - -MRS. L. He wishes you to have a little time in which to look around first. - -ANNIE (_smiling_). You find the hour for rising a little earlier here -than in the city, I suppose. - -F. Yes, I do. This morning I was awakened by the sound of a bell. I -listened, wondering what could be the matter. There were sounds from -below, as if something had happened. Doors were opened and shut -hurriedly, and I could hear the voices of men outside. I dressed as -quickly as I could, and hurried downstairs. But it appeared that nothing -unusual had taken place. Mrs. Leighton was getting breakfast, and you -were laying the table. I glanced up at the clock, and saw that it was a -quarter past four o’clock (_smiling_),—about four hours earlier than I -have been accustomed to rise. Then it occurred to me that people living -on farms are obliged to get up early. - -MRS. L. Yes, my mother used to say that an hour in the morning was worth -three later in the day. But did you rest well, Mr. Forrester? - -F. Oh yes, very well. - -MRS. L. When I pass the night in the city I can’t sleep, there is so -much noise. But last summer a lady who was visiting here could not sleep -because _she missed the noise_. - -F. There is a great deal in habit. (_A pause._) By the way, I said that -I had done no work to-day. I forgot to mention that I had accomplished a -feat which I never attempted before. - -A. What was that? - -F. I unharnessed the horse. - -A. How did you succeed? - -F. I got the harness off, but not very scientifically, I’m afraid, for I -heard Mike tell Jerry that that city chap was the curiousest feller he -ever see, for he unfastened every buckle that was in the harness, and -then left it in a heap on the floor. - -A. (_smiling_). I think that’s a little worse than I should do, for I -believe I should endeavor to hang the harness up. - -F. To tell the truth, I thought of doing so, but there were so many small -pieces that it was impossible. If I had found a basket near, I should -have gathered them up and put them in that. - -A. That would be a novel method of disposing of it. - -MRS. L. I expect, Mr. Forrester, that you are one of those students who -don’t know much about anything but books. - -F. At all events I find, in looking around me, that I don’t know much -about farming. But there’s one good feature in the case: I am anxious to -learn. - -MRS. L. Oh, I haven’t any doubt but you’ll make quite a farmer yet! - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE IV.—_MRS. L.’S sitting-room. Enter FRANK and ANNIE, R., - wearing their hats. FRANK is carrying a basket of grapes (or - some other kind of fruit). They take off their hats, and FRANK - lays both on the table. ANNIE seats herself, R., and FRANK - brings a chair and sits near her, L._ - -F. (_taking up the basket_). Now I feel like treating myself and you. -Here are some tempting clusters. - -(_ANNIE spreads a clean napkin over her dress, while FRANK places the -grapes upon it. They sit for a moment eating the fruit._) - -MRS. L. (_entering, R._). So you have got back again. I was wondering -what kept you so long. - -F. Congratulate me, Aunt Lucy. Annie has promised to marry me. - -MRS. L. That accounts for your being gone so long. I thought you couldn’t -be all this time getting a few grapes. But I’m very glad for you, and -think you have both chosen wisely. - -F. (_slyly glancing at his companion_). Perhaps you wouldn’t think it, -but Annie offered to pay me for doing it. - -A. (_with mock indignation_). Why, Franklin Forrester! - -F. Didn’t you offer me a penny for my thoughts? And haven’t I been -thinking of this very thing for the last three months? (_Turning to MRS. -L._) But I indignantly refused to receive the money. - -MRS. L. (_benignantly_). Don’t be foolish, children. Come out now—supper -is ready. - - (_Exit, MRS. L., R._) - -F. (_gently detaining ANNIE, who is about to follow her aunt_).—Wait -a moment, Annie, I have a disclosure to make. My name is not Frank -Forrester, but Franklin Webster. - -A. What! Benjamin Franklin Webster, who lives on Marlborough street? - -F. Yes. - -A. Then you are the Mr. Webster that I have heard Edwin Aldrich speak of. - -F. (_surprised_). Are you acquainted with him? - -A. Oh, yes, he’s my cousin. - -F. Your cousin? The young reprobate! Excuse me, but he was the very -person who suggested the idea of my coming here. I believe he planned the -whole affair. - -A. I think you are mistaken there; for Uncle William had no thought of -hiring another person till he saw your advertisement. - -F. Well, of course Ed knew about it when he saw Mr. Leighton’s letter in -reply to the advertisement. But, as I was saying, I had the misfortune -to lose my parents when quite young, and thereby became heir to a large -amount of property. As I grew up to manhood, my society was sought after -by all the marriageable young ladies and managing mammas. I determined to -find someone who would love me for myself alone; so I came out here, and -found my wishes realized. Can you forgive me, Annie? - -A. What! for coming out here, and wishing to marry me? Yes, I’ll try to. -But (_archly_) I, too, have a confession to make. I also am possessed of -property, and came out here to Uncle William for the self-same reason -that you did. But I didn’t change my name. I lived on the street beyond -you, in the city. But it seems we were obliged to go a hundred miles from -home to become acquainted. - -(_EDWIN enters R., FRANK and ANNIE start up in surprise._) - -EDWIN. Look here, supper’s been ready this half hour, and the biscuits -are nearly cold already. - -A. (_interrupting_). Why, Cousin Ed, when did you arrive? - -F. Look here, you villain! You planned this affair! - -E. (_striking an attitude and speaking in a melancholy tone_). He calls -me a villain for being the means of making him happy. Annie, if I were -you, I’d release him from the engagement at once. - -A. (_smiling_). Come, Edwin, you haven’t told me when you arrived. - -E. I have been here two hours. - -F. (_in a comico-threatening manner_). Tell me, sir, did you not plan -this whole affair? - -E. (_more seriously_). No, I knew nothing of it till I read the letter -in reply to the advertisement. I then recognized the handwriting, and in -that way discovered that Annie was stopping here. I felt sure that you -would be pleased with one another, and would both pass a pleasant summer, -if nothing more came of it. Yesterday was the first day of my vacation, -and I thought it time to be looking after you. But aunt tells me you are -engaged. - -F. Yes, and I feel amply repaid for coming so far, and for working three -months on a farm, in order to secure a wife to my mind. If any of my -friends in the city are troubled in the same way that I was, I shall -recommend to them to try my remedy, trusting it may produce the same -gratifying results. - -E. And in that way I suppose they may expect to get a good knowledge of -“_Practical Husbandry_.” - - (_All three bow, and Curtain falls._) - - - - -MR. SMITH’S DAY AT HOME. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MR. SMITH. - MRS. SMITH. - WILLIE (_five years old_). - MRS. ASHTON. - MISS ASHTON. - BRIDGET. - - - SCENE I.—_MRS. SMITH’S parlor. Table in centre of the room. - MRS. SMITH is engaged in reading a letter. Her husband, L., is - looking over the evening paper. He lays it down._ - -MR. SMITH. Well, Mrs. Smith, what is the news? You look as sober as if -you had lost all your friends. - -MRS. SMITH. It is a serious matter. This letter informs me that my sister -Sarah is sick, and it is doubtful if she recovers. I ought to go and see -her, but I am afraid I shall not be able to do so. - -MR. S. Why, what is the difficulty? I see nothing to prevent your going. -I’m sure you haven’t much to do. There are only three of us in the -family, and Bridget does all the work. - -MRS. S. Yes, Bridget will do very well, if there’s some one to look after -her. But she isn’t one to be depended upon. I shouldn’t dare to leave -Willie with her. - -MR. S. I think she would get along well enough. - -MRS. S. I shouldn’t be willing to go under any such circumstances. - -MR. S. Would you be any better satisfied if I should stay at home and -look after things? - -MRS. S. Oh, yes, certainly. But could you leave the office for a whole -day? - -MR. S. I think so. - -MRS. S. Well, then, I will go on the first train to-morrow morning. - -MR. S. You needn’t hurry back. We shall get along famously, I am sure; so -you’d better stay till the late train, if you have the least desire to. - -MRS. S. I should like to do so. That would give me a nice long day there. - -MR. S. (_rising_). If you take the first train we must be up betimes. -What time do the cars leave here? - -MRS. S. At eight o’clock, I believe. - -MR. S. I will go now and write a note to Mr. Ferguson, saying I shall not -be at the office to-morrow. - - (_Exit._) - -MRS. S. (_sola_). This is a good chance for me. I want very much to see -Sarah. And then Mr. Smith is constantly telling me that I can’t have much -to do. It will be a good thing for him to have a little experience in -house-keeping. I think one day’s trial will be sufficient to satisfy him. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II. _Dining-room at MR. SMITH’S._ - -BRIDGET, R. C. (_washing dishes_). An’ what’s Misther Smith at home -to-day for, I wonder? Didn’t the missis think she left me enough to do, -widout havin’ him round? I was goin’ to invite Ann Malony to come and -pass the afthernoon and take tay wid me; but how can I do it wid him -spyin’ round? - -(_Enter MR. SMITH, L._) - -MR. S. Well, Bridget, we are left to keep house all alone to-day. - -B. (_sullenly_). Yis, sir. - -MR. S. What did Mrs. Smith say we were to have for dinner? - -B. Cold roast beef and rice puddin’; an’ I was to make some hot biskit. - -MR. S. It won’t take very long to do that, will it? - -B. (_hoping for leave of absence after dinner_). No, sir, I could do that -much in an hour. - -MR. S. Well, Bridget, Mrs. Smith is to be away all day, and I thought -we’d clean the kitchen closet while she’s gone, and so surprise her when -she comes home. - -B. An’ d’ye think I’ll begin a big job like that while she’s away? She -always helps me at cleanin’-house time. - -MR. S. Oh, well, I’ll help you. I’ll take down the dishes, and you can -wash and wipe them, and wash out the closet. Then I’ll help you put them -back again. - -B. Axin’ yer pardon, sir, I can’t do it. - -MR. S. What! do you refuse to obey orders? (_Sarcastically._) I suppose -you’ll expect to receive your wages just the same. - -B. Av coorse I shall. I never refuses to do anything the _missis_ -requires, but I aint goin’ to be ordered round _by a man_. - -MR. S. If you’re not willing to do what I tell you, the sooner you find -another place, the better. - -B. (_angrily_). I’m goin’ to lave the house this blessed minnit, so I am. -It’s Bridget McFinnigan that won’t be imposed upon by the likes uv you, -or any other man! (_She takes off her apron hastily, throws it over a -chair, and leaves the room, R., full of indignation._) - -MR. S. Well, I’m afraid I’ve got myself into trouble. I’d better have -waited till after dinner before speaking about cleaning. But, as it -seems I’ve got to do what I can, alone, I might as well finish washing -the breakfast dishes. (_Takes BRIDGET’S apron, and ties it on loosely. -He begins to wipe a plate, but it falls from his hands and is broken._) -There goes a plate. I must go and throw it into the stove, or Mrs. Smith -will be twitting me about breaking things. (_Goes to the next room, R., -where a stove is supposed to be, and leaves the broken plate. Returns and -commences washing dishes again._) After all, there isn’t much work about -keeping house. It’s astonishing how these women can employ all their -time! Perhaps it is better that Bridget left me as she did to-day, as now -I can show Mrs. Smith how easily housework may be disposed of. - -WILLIE (_enters, L., with torn clothes, and rubbing his eyes with his -hands_). Ur-r-r-r, ur-r-r-r, (_louder_) ur-r-r-r! - -MR. S. What’s the matter? What’s the matter? - -W. (_crying_). Sammy Snow set his dog on to me, and hurt me. Ur-r-r-r! - -MR. S. Well, be a brave boy, and don’t cry. - -W. (_crying_). Give me some raisins, and I won’t. - -MR. S. I don’t know where mamma keeps them. - -W. I do; it’s in the kitchen closet. - -MR. S. Does mamma give them to you? - -W. Sometimes, and sometimes I get them myself. - -MR. S. Well, you can get a _very few_. Raisins are not good for little -boys. - -W. (_aside_). I guess I’ll have enough raisins this time. (_Goes out, R._) - -MR. S. I ought to finish washing the dishes, but perhaps I’d better see -about dinner, first. Let me see. We were to have rice pudding. I haven’t -time to make an elaborate pudding. I think I’ll just boil some rice. That -is always good. - -(_He goes toward the table, but steps on his apron and falls. He reaches -forward to take hold of the table, but, instead, grasps the paper of -rice, and both go on to the floor, the rice scattering in all directions. -He gets up, rubbing his bruised arm, and looks ruefully at the scene -before him; just then WILLIE comes in crying._) - -W. There aint any raisins there, ur-r-r! Papa, what was I crying for, -ur-r-r! - -MR. S. (_coaxing him_). Don’t cry, Willie, but come and help papa pick up -this rice, and you shall have an orange when I go to the store. - -W. I want it now. - -MR. S. I haven’t got one now; but here’s an apple, and I’ll give you an -orange this afternoon. (_WILLIE takes the apple. They gather up some -of the rice, leaving the greater part of it on the floor._) I wonder -how much of this I ought to boil. There are only two of us. I think a -quart will be enough. (_Measures it._) I don’t know but it ought to be -picked over. (_Looks at watch._) No, I shan’t have time. Of course it’s -clean enough; the floor is swept every day. (_Goes out, R., with rice; -returns._) The next thing is biscuit. That’s an easy matter. I have only -to mix flour and water together, and put it into the oven. (_Pours flour -into a pan, and adds water._) I believe it is customary to knead it well -with the hands. (_Puts his hands in, and stirs ingredients together. At -that moment a ring is heard at the door._) I declare if that isn’t the -door-bell. But I shan’t answer it,—not if they ring a dozen times. - -W. (_who has peeped out of the window, L._) Papa, it’s the Ashtons! (_An -aristocratic family who have never before called on the SMITHS._) - -MR. S. Is it? (_Thinks for a moment; the bell rings again._) Willie, -can’t you go to the door, and show the ladies into the parlor? Then come -out here, and I will go in and see them. Stop a moment, your face isn’t -clean. (_The bell rings again._) No matter; come here and wipe it on my -apron. Now go, like a good boy. - -(_WILLIE goes to answer the bell, but, being a little confused, shows the -visitors into the dining-room, L. MRS. and MISS ASHTON look around the -room and exchange significant glances._) - -MR. S. (_discomposed, takes his hands out of the dough, and wipes them on -his apron_). Willie, why did you bring the ladies into this room? I beg -your pardon, ladies; won’t you go into the parlor? I will be in directly. - -MRS. A. (_superciliously_). Thank you; but we called to see Mrs. Smith. -Is she at home? - -MR. S. No, she is not. Her sister is dangerously ill, and has sent for -her. She will be at home this evening. - -MRS. A. Then we will call again (_significantly_), at a more auspicious -time. - -MR. S. I trust you will excuse my appearance. Soon after Mrs. Smith was -gone, the servant left me and— - -MRS. A. Ah, yes! I understand—Good morning! (_Aside to her daughter._) -What a low family! I shall not think of calling again. - - (_Exeunt, L._) - -MR. S. (_provoked_). Why didn’t you take those ladies into the parlor, as -I told you, Willie? - -WILLIE (_terrified_). I didn’t mean to, papa. Don’t scold. I won’t do so -again. - -MR. S. Well, see that you don’t. (_Soliloquizes._) I wonder if I ought -to put this bread in another pan before baking. I guess, however, this -one will do just as well. I’ve got dishes enough to wash already. I must -put this bread into the oven, and look after the rice. It is fortunate we -have some cold meat for dinner, as I haven’t time to cook any. (_Goes out -with bread; returns._) I must pile up those dishes and set the table for -dinner. Then I can wash all the dishes at once. Who would think that that -rice would have swelled so? There is nearly a peck of it already, and it -is still rising. Half a cup full would have been enough. But, no matter, -we shan’t have to cook any again very soon. I declare I must go and see -to the bread; it must be done by this time. (_Goes out; returns, and -finishes setting the table._) The bread is all done. It didn’t rise much, -and, somehow, I can’t get it out of the pan, but it seems to have baked -well. Perhaps I ought to have buttered the pan. (_Suddenly._) There, I -forgot to boil some potatoes. Well, it can’t be helped. At all events, -we’ve got plenty of rice, and that must take its place. - - (_Exit, R._) - -(_He brings in a small dish of meat, the pan of bread, and afterwards an -enormous soup tureen heaped up with boiled rice. The tureen may be nearly -filled up with any other substance, and the rice placed on top, causing -an observer to think it is entirely filled with rice._) - -MR. S. (_goes to the door, L., and calls_). Willie! Willie! dinner is -ready. - -W. (_entering_). I’m as hungry as a bear. - -MR. S. Well, we’ve got plenty to eat. (_Helps him to meat and rice._) - -W. Isn’t there any potatoes? - -MR. S. No, but here’s some bread. (_Tries to cut the bread, but does not -succeed. At that moment the door opens, and MRS. SMITH walks in, L. She -glances at the table, and bursts into a laugh._) - -MRS. S. What _have_ you got for dinner, Mr. Smith? I think you must be -fond of rice! - -MR. S. (_rising_). Don’t say a word, my dear, don’t say a word! I’ve had -trials enough this morning to drive a man crazy. Say anything you please -about the drudgery of housework, and I will agree with you. I’ve had an -experience this forenoon which I shall not forget in a lifetime! - -MRS. S. If it causes you to be more considerate in future, I shall not -regret having left you. I think you must have done something, judging -from the appearance of the room. (_Looks around._) - -MR. S. And I suppose you think the prospect is, that there is still -something left to do. But as you have got home so early, I think I’ll go -down to the office a while. I have a slight headache, and think a change -of scene would benefit me. - - (_Exit, L._) - -W. (_rushing to door_). Don’t forget my orange, papa. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -THE COUNTRY COUSIN. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MRS. ATHERTON, Eunice’s Aunt. - BLANCHE, Mrs. A.’s Daughter. - EUNICE HAYNES, The Country Cousin. - MR. WARNER, A Visitor. - A SERVANT, GUESTS, ETC. - - - SCENE I.—_MRS. ATHERTON’S drawing-room. BLANCHE, L., and her - mother, R., present._ - -MRS. ATHERTON. Did you hear your father say we were to expect a visitor -to-day? - -BLANCHE (_surprised_). No, I heard nothing of it. Who is it? - -MRS. A. The daughter of his only sister, who married a farmer in the -little village of Donnellsville. - -B. Do you know anything of her? - -MRS. A. No. They live at such a distance, that there has been but little -communication between the two families. Your father met Mr. Haynes in -the city a few days ago, and invited him to send his daughter here for a -visit. This letter, which he has just received, announces that she will -be here to-day. - -B. Do you know her name? - -MRS. A. Eunice Haynes. - -B. What a wretchedly countrified name! And how unfortunate that she -should come just at this time. Next week, you know, we are to have our -party, and of course she will have to be present. I have no doubt she is -a country gawky, whose conversation will be mostly of “aour caows,” and -how much butter and cheese we make. - -MRS. A. No doubt. I wonder that your father should have invited her here -until some of us had seen her. - -B. As to that, I don’t know how we should ever see her unless she came -here. It will be bad enough to receive a visit from her, but it would -be still worse for us to visit them. I have no doubt they are genuine -rustics, who keep no servants, talk bad grammar, and take their meals in -the kitchen. - -MRS. A. Very likely. - -B. And then I suppose her dresses will all be calico or gingham, having -all the colors of the rainbow. No doubt she will select the gayest of -them all for the party. How disgusted I am at the thought of this visit! -I wish it were well over. - -MRS. A. So do I. But couldn’t you pass her off as Isabel’s governess? - -B. No, that wouldn’t do at all. In fact, she probably couldn’t sustain -that character. Besides, papa has such strange, out-of-the-way notions -on such points, that I fear he would be angry if such a thing were -attempted. - -MRS. A. Perhaps, after all, it may not be as bad as you think, Blanche. -We will wait patiently, and not judge her till she arrives. - -B. And, by the way, you promised to go out with me to select a dress for -the party. We ought to go now, I think. Otherwise we shall be obliged to -invite _our cousin_ (_with emphasis_) to go with us. - - (_Exeunt, R. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_The curtain rising shows two chambers formed by - a curtain extending from front to back of stage, it being - necessary that both should be seen at once. SERVANT ushers - EUNICE, who has just arrived, into R., one of them._ - -SERVANT. This is the room you are to have, miss. Mrs. Atherton and Miss -Blanche have gone out, but will be in soon. - -EUNICE. Very well. (_Exeunt SERVANT, R. EUNICE takes off bonnet and -shawl, and lays them on the table. Afterward takes up a book, sits down, -and begins to read._) - -(_MRS. B. and BLANCHE enter the other chamber, L., and lay aside their -outer garments._) - -B. I wonder when our rustic friend will arrive? (_EUNICE looks and -listens attentively._) I am quite curious to see her. I suppose she -will begin by giving me an account of all the household matters in -particular, and the farm-work in general. I can imagine her dressed in a -rainbow-colored costume, making a deep courtesy to you, and giving a nod -of recognition to your humble servant. I dare say before night she will -tell me confidentially all about the country swain whom she most favors. - -MRS. A. Why, Blanche, how you do run on! Don’t, I beg of you, make her -appear any more ridiculous than she naturally is. And, above all things -else, pray don’t introduce the subject of cows. - -B. I’m sure I don’t see any harm in drawing her out. It will be so -amusing. I will invite her to go shopping with me to-morrow, just to -see how she will stare in the windows. There will be a slight contrast -between our large and fashionable stores and the one little variety store -in her native village, where they sell everything from a peck of potatoes -to a silk dress. - -MRS. A. I should be too much mortified to do so. But she may have arrived -already. Let us go down and see. - - (_Exeunt._) - -E. (_astonished and amused_). Is it possible that my aunt and cousin -expect to find me so countrified? It would be cruel in me to disappoint -their expectations. I have always been considered quite good at -imitation, and I have a great mind to personate, for a little while, the -character of a backwood’s maiden—for my amusement as well us theirs. I -must practise a little, first, in order to carry it out well. (_Goes to -mirror and makes a low courtesy._) Why, haow d’ye do, Aunt Tildy? I’m -proper glad to see ye. And haow d’ye do, Blanche? I’m dreadful tickled -to meet ye. (_Turns round smiling._) I wonder how it would do to give her -what Charlie calls a “Down East hug.” They would be fairly horrified, I -think. But I will be governed by circumstances, and go down to meet them -without further delay. - - (_Goes out, R. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_MRS A.’S drawing-room. EUNICE enters, R._ - -E. (_looking round_). What! are they not here yet? I supposed they were -coming directly downstairs. However, I will sit down and await their -coming. Ah! there they are now. - -(_MRS. A. and BLANCHE enter, L._) - -MRS. A. (_coming forward_). I didn’t know you had arrived, Eunice. I have -just returned from— - -E. (_interrupting her by advancing and throwing her arms around her -neck_). Why, haow d’ye do, Aunt Tildy? I’m proper glad to see ye. (_MRS. -A. withdraws from the embrace with a disgusted expression of countenance, -and smooths down her collar, which was disarranged by it. E. advances to -BLANCHE, who, fearing a like salutation, takes a step backward, and holds -out the tips of her fingers to her cousin. E. grasps them vigorously, -and, stepping forward, bestows a loud kiss upon her cousin’s cheek. -BLANCHE, with a slight frown, takes her handkerchief and wipes it off._) -How d’ye do, Cousin Blanche? I’m dreadful tickled to meet ye. - -B. (_smiling_). And I am glad to make your acquaintance, Eunice. When did -you leave home? - -E. Day before yesterday. - -MRS. A. You must be quite fatigued (_E. stares_)—tired, perhaps I should -say—with your journey. - -E. No; I aint tired a mite. - -B. Were you ever in the city before? - -E. I guess not. I don’t remember it if I was. It looks queer enough to -see the houses crowded so thick together. And I haven’t seen a barn since -I came. I suppose, though, they’re all in back of the houses; but then I -don’t see how folks get their caows in and out. I s’pose they pastur’ ’em -on the common. - -B. Oh, no, they wouldn’t be allowed in any of the parks. It is too -thickly settled here for any one to keep cows. - -E. You don’t mean to say that you have to buy all your butter! It must -cost a sight. Why, if I’d a’ known it, I’d have brought you a mess. We -churned the day before I came away, and the butter came tip-top. - - (_MRS. A. quietly leaves the room, R._) - -E. (_noticing her aunt’s exit_). I s’pose your mother’s gone out to get -tea. If you want to help her, don’t let me hinder you. And if there’s -anything that I can do, jest let me know, for I’d just as lieves help as -not. - -B. Thank you, but there’s no need. We leave that for the servants. - -E. How many helps do you keep? - -B. There are four, I believe. - -E. And how many have you in family? - -B. (_smiling_). Four persons. - -E. (_in assumed amazement_). Well, that beats all that ever I heard. What -do they all do? - -B. We have a cook, housemaid, chambermaid, and seamstress, and they all -seem to find enough to occupy their time. - - (_Bell rings._) - -E. What’s that bell for? - -B. (_rising_). That is to call us to dinner. - -E. (_rising_). What, dinner at six o’clock! At home we have dinner at -twelve, and supper at five. And you ought to see our bell! Why, you can -hear it most half a mile. We have it to call the men from the field to -their meals. - - (_Exeunt, R. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE IV.—_MRS. A.’S drawing-room. BLANCHE, R., and her mother, - L., engaged in crocheting or other fancy work._ - -B. Well, ma, what do you think now? Isn’t Eunice the most countrified -specimen you ever saw? - -MRS. A. I must admit that she is decidedly rustic. - -B. But did you notice the blunders she made at dinner? - -MRS. A. I saw that she ate with her knife, and didn’t use her napkin. - -B. (_much amused_). That reminds me that when I took my napkin from the -ring, she asked me if I used a towel in my lap because I was afraid of -spoiling my dress. She also said that, at home, the younger children -wore bibs, and she wondered we didn’t put one on to Isabel. (_Greatly -amused._) Imagine Isabel,—a girl nine years old, with a bib on! - -MRS. A. I’m afraid she wouldn’t submit to it very quietly. - -B. Then she took butter from the plate with her own knife, and when pa -asked her if she would have more of the meat, she said, “No; I’ve had -enough for this time.” - -MRS. A. I think your father must have noticed her awkwardness. - -B. I don’t see how he could help it. But he would not allow her to see -that he noticed it. - -MRS. A. What did she say to the piano? I heard you playing for her. - -B. (_laughing_). She thought it was a queer-looking thing, and said it -must be hard to work it. - -MRS. A. Where is she now? - -B. She has retired. She said she always went to bed as soon as it grew -dark. I should think she had been living in the woods all her life. - -MRS. A. And yet, with all her blunders, she is quite pretty, and dresses -with a good deal of taste. - -B. That is true. And yet, with such an ignorance of conventional rules, -what sort of a figure will she make at our party? - -MRS. A. You will have to make the best of it, and hint to any one that -you may introduce to her that she is a country cousin. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE V.—_The same. MRS. ATHERTON, L. C., BLANCHE, R., EUNICE, - C., and MR. WARNER, L., present. Also other guests conversing - in groups. EUNICE dressed in white, with a few simple flowers - in her hair. BLANCHE dressed richly._ - -B. (_beckoning to MR. W., who comes to her, and speaking in a low but -audible tone_). Mr. Warner, I wish to introduce you to a cousin of mine, -a rustic damsel, who has never been to the city before. She is fresh -from the country, and I doubt not you will be greatly amused by her -conversation. There she is near the piano. - -MR. WARNER (_surprised_). What, that young lady so tastefully dressed! It -cannot be! You are surely joking, Miss Atherton. - -B. (_smiling_). You will discover by her conversation that I have spoken -truly. But here we are.—Mr. Warner desires the honor of an introduction, -Cousin Eunice. Miss Haynes—Mr. Warner. - -(_BLANCHE retires to another part of the stage, L. EUNICE bows without -any show of embarrassment._) - -MR. W. Have you been long in the city, Miss Haynes? - -E. But a few days. - -MR. W. And how do you enjoy it? - -E. You will perhaps laugh at my lack of taste, when I say that, in my -judgment, it does not compare favorably with the country. City life is -too artificial to satisfy me. - -MR. W. And yet city life has many advantages which you probably do not -get in the country,—lectures, concerts, and the opera, for example. - -E. I confess these are advantages which I should be glad to enjoy, and -should fully appreciate. In these latter days, however, most of the -lectures are reported in the papers. - -MR. W. Yes, but in reading them one does not get the full enjoyment that -is had in hearing them delivered. - -E. That is true. It is also a great deprivation not to be able to hear -the great singers of the day. - -MR. W. Then you are fond of music? - -E. I am very fond of it. - -MR. W. Do you play? - -E. A little, sometimes, for my own amusement. - -MR. W. Then let me beg a favor of you. There is a pause in the -conversation and music is called for. Allow me to lead you to the piano. - -E. I will play if you wish it, but I fear you will be disappointed. - -(_MR. W. conducts her to the piano, R. C., to BLANCHE’S great -astonishment. Guests look on and listen with interest. E. plays a short -prelude, and sings in a clear, sweet voice, which excites general -admiration, the following song:_) - - “I do not love the crowded street - With all its varied show, - Through which a sea of human forms - Keeps heaving to and fro. - My spirit yearns for fairer scenes, - For bird, and flower, and tree; - I cannot bid farewell to these,— - A country life for me! - - “The bird has sought his last year’s nest - Within the fairy dell; - The squirrel in the greenwood hides, - His haunts I know full well; - Along the meadows flower-bestrewn, - I hear the humming-bee; - I cannot live apart from these,— - A country life for me! - - “’Twas there I roved in years gone by - With careless step and fleet, - And scarcely deigned to pluck the flowers - That blossomed at my feet. - O golden time of childhood’s prime, - When life was blithe and free, - Thy memory lingers in my heart,— - A country life for me! - - “I love to climb the steep hillside, - And catch the sun’s first glow, - When, rising from his watery couch, - He gilds the waves below. - My spirit yearns for fairer scenes, - For bird, and flower, and tree; - I cannot live apart from these,— - A country life for me!” - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE VI.—_Drawing-room after the guests have left. BLANCHE, - R., and EUNICE, L., present._ - -B. Do tell me, Eunice, what this means. I am _so_ curious to have it -explained. - -E. So I supposed. But confess the truth, Blanche. Didn’t you think me a -genuine rustic, very ignorant, and quite countrified? - -B. I certainly did, but you surely gave me reason. I give you credit for -acting your part well. But what induced you to take upon yourself such a -character? - -E. I was afraid of disappointing you. - -B. (_surprised_). Disappointing me? - -E. (_smiling_). Yes. The day of my arrival I was shown by the servant -into the room provided for me. I had scarcely laid aside my bonnet -and shawl when you and Aunt Matilda came into the chamber adjoining -mine. Unintentionally I overheard you conversing of me. You both had -the impression that, as I lived in the country, I must be ignorant and -uncultivated. I therefore decided to continue the illusion for a short -time. When the party came off, it seemed a fitting time for me to appear -in my true character. - -B. I am glad that you are not what you seemed. I was almost overcome by -your vigorous salute, and your talk about pasturing cows in the parks, -and so on; and I feared that you might introduce these topics as the -subjects of your conversation at the party. - -E. Fortunately no such mishap occurred, and since you prefer me in my -present character, I will still retain it, trusting that you may never -again have cause to be disturbed at the rusticity of your Country Cousin. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -TAKING POISON. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MR. LEWIS FISHER, A very Nervous Man. - MRS. SUSAN FISHER, His Wife. - MISS HELEN FISHER, His Sister. - DR. GIBBS, Physician. - MARY, Servant. - - - SCENE.—_Parlor at MRS. FISHER’S. MR. F. comes in, and sinks - into a chair, R._ - -MR. FISHER. How weak I am! I wonder what can be the matter? (_Presses -his hand first on one cheek, and then the other._) I think I’m a little -feverish. (_Coughs as if it pained him._) And then this cough; I’m sure -my lungs must be affected. But then that’s no wonder, for most of our -family died of consumption, and I dare say I shall go in the same way. -(_Petulantly._) I wonder where Susan is; she’s always gone when I want -her. (_Rings the bell; servant enters, L._) Mary, where is Mrs. Fisher? - -MARY. She went an hour ago, sir. Your sister, Miss Helen, came for her to -go shopping, and the two of them went out then. - -MR. F. (_sighing, and leaning back in his chair_). Did she say what time -she would be back? - -M. She did not, then. May be they won’t be home till dark. - -MR. F. I shall be sick in bed before that time. - -M. Couldn’t I do something for you, sir? - -MR. F. (_shaking his head mournfully_). No. (_A pause._) Do you know -where Mrs. Fisher keeps the cough drops? - -M. I do not, sir. - -MR. F. Well, then, it’s no matter. I’ll wait till she comes. - -M. Very well, sir. - - (_Exit MARY, L._) - -(_MR. F. leans back in his chair, and rocks for a few moments with closed -eyes. He then opens his eyes, and rises slowly._) - -MR. F. It must be that Susan keeps the cough mixture in the closet. -I’ll see. (_Goes to closet, L., and returns, bringing a bottle, having -no label on it, with him._) Yes, here it is. I will take a teaspoonful. -(_He takes a spoon from the table, and filling it carefully, swallows the -contents._) I hope that will make me feel better. (_Sits down again in -the rocking-chair._) I don’t see what keeps Susan away so long. It always -was a mystery to me how women could enjoy shopping as they do. (_Begins -to cough._) I believe I’ll go into the dining-room and get some water. -(_Goes out, R.; enter MARY, L._) - -M. (_looking around_). So master’s gone out. It’ll do him good, I’m -thinking. Sure I don’t see how missis gets along wid him, when he’s so -fussy. (_Goes to closet, L., and after a short stop, returns and exit, L. -MR. F. reappears, R., bearing a glass of water, which he places on the -table. He continues to cough._) - -MR. F. The water does not remove the irritation in my throat. I must take -some more of the drops. (_Goes to closet, L., and returns with a bottle; -a label on it this time. He gazes at the label, and starts back in -terror._) What’s this? Poison? And I’ve already taken a spoonful of it! -That was what made me feel so strangely. Oh, I’m a doomed man! (_He rings -the bell violently, and sinks into a chair. MARY enters, L._) - -M. Oh, lor sakes, what makes you look so pale, sir? - -MR. F. (_excitedly_). I’ve taken poison, Mary. I feel a pain in my side, -already. Why doesn’t Mrs. Fisher come home? Oh, dear, what shall I do? - -M. Can’t I get you something to take, sir? - -MR. F. (_impatiently_). Oh, no, no. I’ve taken too much already. Nothing -would help me now. I feel the poison coursing through my veins already, -and cold chills are passing over me. Bring a blanket to cover me, Mary. I -hope I shan’t die before Susan comes. - -(_MARY brings a pillow, which she places behind him, and puts a blanket -over his knees._) - -M. Don’t you feel a little better now, sir? - -MR. F. (_with an injured look._) Better! People don’t usually feel better -when they are dying. (_Sound of a bell is heard outside._) - -M. Mrs. Fisher is come. - - (_Exit MARY, L., and, in a moment, enter MRS. FISHER and HELEN, R._) - -MRS. FISHER (_with solicitude; going toward her husband_). Why, Lewis, -what’s the matter? Are you sick? - -MR. F. Yes, Susan; not merely sick, but dying. - -MRS. F. (_perplexed_). What can you mean, Lewis? You left home this -morning apparently well, and, after an hour’s absence, I return to find -you nervous and excited. You look sick, too. Do tell me what is the cause. - -MR. F. (_excited_). That I can very easily do. I was sick—quite -feverish—and had a bad cough, so I thought I’d take some drops to relieve -it. - -MRS. F. That was right. - -MR. F. I went to the closet, and took a spoonful, and thought they helped -me. So, in half an hour, I went and got some more to take, when I noticed -the label on the bottle, and found that, instead of cough-drops, I had -been taking poison. - -MRS. F. O Lewis, how could you make such a mistake? (_Clasping her -hands._) What shall we do? - -HELEN (_coolly_). Send for the doctor, I should say, if you haven’t both -taken leave of your senses. - -MRS. F. Yes, send Mary for the doctor at once. Why didn’t we think of it -sooner? - -MR. F. (_dismally_). It will do no good. Nothing can be done now. I -feel cold chills passing over me. I shall not probably be alive when he -reaches here. It will only take up the little time there is left. - -H. I shall send Mary for the doctor, at all events. - - (_Exit, L._) - -(_MR. F. moans frequently. MRS. F. is occupied in chafing his wrists. -Suddenly MR. F. speaks._) - -MR. F. Susan. - -MRS. S. (_through her tears_). Well, Lewis. - -MR. F. You’ve been a good wife to me, Susan. - -MRS. F. I’ve tried to be, Lewis. - -MR. F. I’m glad you will be left in comfortable circumstances at my -death. I’ve left my whole property to you. In my little black trunk you -will find all my valuable papers. Here is the key. (_Passes it to her._) - -MRS. F. (_sobbing, but takes the key_). Don’t think of such things, -Lewis. You must live—for me. I’m sure that the doctor can help you. - -MR. F. (_mournfully_). No, it’s too late—too late. I would like to have -lived longer, but I must submit to my fate. - - (_Enter DR. GIBBS, L._) - -DR. GIBBS (_cheerily_). Well, my friend, what’s the matter with you? - -MR. F. (_tragically_). Poison! - -DR. G. (_surprised_). What! Got tired of living, hey? - -MR. F. (_wearily_). Tell him about it, Susan. - -MRS. F. It was a terrible mistake, doctor. He intended to take some cough -drops, but, instead, took some laudanum. - -DR. G. (_feeling his pulse_). How do you feel? - -MR. F. I feel cold chills passing over me, and it seems us if a thousand -needles were pricking my flesh; and I have got a terrible headache. - -DR. G. But those are not the symptoms of poison. How long is it since you -took it? - -MR. F. More than an hour and a half ago. - -DR. G. I don’t believe it was poison at all. I see no signs of it. - -MR. F. But I saw the label. - -DR. G. Let me see the bottle. (_MRS. F. brings the bottle from closet, L. -DR. G. smells of the mixture, and then prepares to taste it._) - -MRS. F. Oh, don’t taste it, doctor. It may be the death of you too. - -(_The doctor lifts the bottle to his lips._) - -DR. G. This is not poison. It is cough-drops, as I expected. Moreover, it -is some that I mixed myself, and I know there’s no poison in it. But how -came that label on it? - -MRS. F. I prepared the label just before I went away, and told Mary to -paste it on the bottle of laudanum. But it seems she must have pasted it -on the wrong bottle. - -MR. F. (_eagerly_). And haven’t I swallowed poison, after all? - -DR. G. (_dryly_). Not unless you’ve taken it from some other bottle. - -MRS. F. How thankful I am that it was a mistake; aren’t you, Lewis? - -MR. F. Indeed I am. (_A pause._) By the way, Susan, you might as well -hand me back the key of the little black trunk. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -DEACON ROBINSON’S PRESENT. - - -CHARACTERS. - - DEACON JONATHAN ROBINSON, Delegate to Political Convention. - MRS. IRENE ROBINSON, His Wife. - DOCTOR LEWIS CUMMINGS, Physician of Rossville. - MR. CHAS. HERBERT FITZ HOWARD, A Young Exquisite. - LANDLORD. - JOHN. - TWO POLICEMEN. - -(_DEACON ROBINSON is attired in a blue suit. The coat is short-waisted, -old-fashioned, and ornamented with brass buttons. He wears a -broad-brimmed beaver, far from new. CHARLES HERBERT FITZ HOWARD is -dressed in the height of fashion, wearing a jaunty little hat on the side -of his head, and a suit of clothes cut in the most fashionable style._) - - - SCENE I.—_Office of a hotel. Table, C. LANDLORD present, R. C. - Enter DEACON ROBINSON, L._ - -LANDLORD. Good-evening, deacon. - -DEA. ROBINSON. Good-evening. I’ve come down from Morristown to ’tend the -convention. I may be here two or three days. Can you give me a room? - -L. (_suavely_). Oh, yes, certainly; a nice room, too. Will you order -supper before going up stairs? - -DEA. R. Supper! No, indeed! It’s nine o’clock, and I’m going to bed. -Besides, I took supper afore I left home. - -L. But you’ll register your name, first? (_Passes pen to him._) - -DEA. R. (_takes from his pocket a tin case, which he opens, takes -therefrom a pair of spectacles, which he adjusts upon his nose_). Wal, -yes, I hain’t no objection. (_Writes._) - -L. Here, John, take this lamp and show the gentleman up to Number 33. - -JOHN. Yes, sir. (_Takes lamp and goes out, followed by the DEACON._) - -(_Enter CHARLES HERBERT FITZ HOWARD, L._) - -FITZ HOWARD. Aw—I say—aw—can you give me a good room? - -L. Yes sir, directly. But, beg pardon, sir; perhaps you’d like some -supper first? - -F. H. Aw—yes, but I’ll go to my room first—aw, and make my toilet—remove -the dust and travel—aw. - -L. Your name, sir! (_Offers pen._) - -F. H. Aw—yes—I had forgotten. (_Looking at pen—tries it._) What a deuced -poor pen! (_Enter JOHN, R._) - -L. Here is another. (_Offers it._) - -F. H. (_takes it; gazes at book before him_). Deacon Jonathan -Robinson—aw. What a name! Not much like the next one. (_Writes._) -Charles Herbert Fitz Howard—aw. - -J. Ain’t he a swell, though? - -L. (_in a warning tone_). John. - -J. Yes, sir. - -L. Show this gentleman up to number 35. - -J. Yes, sir. (_To FITZ HOWARD._) This way, sir. - - (_Exeunt, R. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_A bed-chamber. DEACON ROBINSON is seen, C., dressed - in ruffled shirt and tightly fitting pants. He surveys them - meditatively._ - -DEA. R. I don’t see but I’ve got to wear these clothes, as long as the -others are gone, for the convention meets at nine, and I shan’t have -much more’n time to eat my breakfast. But it beats all where them other -clothes went to, and where these come from. I declare, I never heard o’ -such a thing in my born days. (_He thinks a moment—his face brightens._) -Yes, it must be—there’s no other way. Some of my friends here in -Rossville must ha’ clubbed together, and bought me this new suit, knowing -I was to be here to the convention. But when could they ha’ brought them -in, and taken my others away, for I’ve had my door locked ever since I -came into the room? Oh, I remember now, last night, when there was an -alarm of fire, I slipped on my overcoat, and went into the entry to see -where ’twas; but findin’ ’twas a false alarm, I came back in less than -ten minutes. They must ha’ been dreadful spry to ha’ made the change so -quick. (_Apprehensively—taking up the coat._) I’m afraid they’re too gay -for me, but I seem to be ’bleeged to wear ’em. (_Puts on the vest._) I -wonder if the coat fits as well as the rest. (_Puts it on and stands up -before the glass, R. Complacently._) Well, it’s a complete fit, and it -does really improve me amazin’ly—makes me look a good deal younger. The -cloth seems good too. They must ha’ cost a good deal. Really, my friends -have been very kind, but I do wish they’d brought a different hat. (_Puts -on the hat, which looks very jaunty for one of his years._) Perhaps I -can exchange it to-morrow, but I’ve got to wear it to-day, at any rate. -There’s one thing I haven’t thought of afore (_feeling in pockets_). I -wonder whether they thought to change things in the pockets from the old -to the new. There aint a single thing in any of ’em. (_Irresolutely._) -And what shall I do without money? (_Goes quickly to overcoat, and -puts his hand in pocket._) Ah, here is the old wallet. (_With a sigh -of relief._) Lucky for me I bought a newspaper last evening, or that -pocket-book would ha’ been gone too. I must go down and see if I can hear -anything about the rest of the things. - - (_Exit, L. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_The same. FITZ HOWARD is seen, L. C., sitting - disconsolately with Deacon’s home-made shirt and pants on._ - -F. H. Well—aw—I’m sure, I don’t see what I’m going to do. I never can go -out on the street—aw—wearing such wretched-looking clothes. (_Standing -up suddenly and gazing upon them._) Why, they’re absolutely horwid. -It’s strange—aw—how anybody could have been quick enough—aw—to change -those clothes in the five minutes I was out—aw—last night at the alarm -of fire. I should just like to get hold of the thief—aw—that’s all. I -guess—aw—he’d never steal anything else. (_A pause. Emphatically._) I -won’t wear this horwid-looking coat (_lifting it up._) What would Dick -Hayes or Harwy Nichols say—aw—to see me dressed in this style! I won’t -wear the shabby ole thing. (_Throws it to the other end of the room, R._) -I should feel—aw—as if I was my own grandfather. And this horwid old -hat. (_Takes it in his hand, and with a kick sends it after the coat._) -Aw—I’ll ring for the landlord. (_Rings furiously. JOHN enters, R._) - -F. H. Aw—where’s the landlord—aw? - -J. He’s gone away. - -F. H. When he comes back—aw—I want to see him. - -J. Yes, sir; but he may not be back till noon, but I’ll tell him when he -comes. - - (_Exit JOHN, R._) - -F. H. (_solus_). Well—aw—there’s no help from that quarter. I don’t see -but I’ve got to come to it, for if I don’t wear these clothes—aw—what -shall I wear? There isn’t any shop that sells ready-made clothing that -I’d be willing to wear—aw—and if there was I haven’t money enough to -spare to buy another suit. (_Groaning._) I don’t see but I _must_ wear -it. (_Puts on vest and coat—looks in mirror._) Oh, dear! Aw—what a -fright! And I was going to call on Arabella Meade this morning. (_Puts on -hat, which, being a little too large for him, settles down on the back -side of his head. He paces back and forth, looking down._) But there’s -no use in my going there to-day. The servants would take me—aw—for a -ragamuffin, and thrust me out of the house—aw—if I attempted to enter it. -I suppose I shall have to go down in this costume—aw—and see if I cannot -find some clue to my own clothes—aw. - - (_Exit, L. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE IV.—_Parlor of the hotel. DEACON ROBINSON, C., looking - over morning paper. Enter DR. CUMMINGS, L., who does not - recognize the occupant of the room. Deacon Robinson advances to - meet him warmly._ - -DEA. R. (_cordially_). How do you do, Dr. Cummings? - -DR. C. (_distantly_). Really, sir, you have the advantage of me! - -DEA. R. What, don’t you recognize me? You’ve known me for the last -twenty-five years. I’m Deacon Jonathan Robinson, of Morristown. - -DR. C. Why, bless my soul, so you are! But, good gracious, deacon, what -possessed you to dress in this strange way? - -DEA. R. Strange? - -DR. C. (_sternly_). Yes. I consider it discreditable to one of your -years, sobriety, and position in the community, to make such a popinjay -of yourself. - -DEA. R. (_uncomfortably_). But it isn’t my doings. - -DR. C. Isn’t your doings? Then whose is it? I don’t understand it. Surely -Mrs. Robinson doesn’t countenance such folly! - -DEA. R. She doesn’t know anything about it. - -DR. C. No; I thought not. - -DEA. R. (_a little vexed_). If you won’t be in such a hurry, Dr. -Cummings, I’ll explain it all. You see I came over to Rossville last -evening and put up here. I went to bed early, but about midnight there -was a cry of fire. I slipped on my overcoat, and went into the entry to -learn whether it was near by. In a few minutes I heard that it was a -false alarm. I hurried back to my room, which I couldn’t have been out of -more’n ten minutes, and locked my door. Then I went to bed and to sleep. -When I waked in the morning my old clothes, which have done me such -faithful service, were gone, and these were left in their place. - -DR. C. How do you suppose they came there? - -DEA. R. It is my opinion that my friends in Rossville, knowing that I -was to attend a convention, took this way of presenting me with a new and -fashionable suit of clothes. - -DR. C. (_shaking his head_). It’s a strange story. - -(_Enter MRS. R. R. She starts back, surprised at the appearance of her -husband._) - -MRS. ROBINSON (_sharply_). I should like to know, Deacon Robinson, what -has put it into your head to dress in this ridiculous style; you, a man -most sixty years old! - -DEA. R. I’m only fifty-eight. - -MRS. R. And you dress as if you were eighteen. You refuse me a silk -dress, and then go and squander your money on this foolish rig. I should -think you had gone stark, staring mad. - -DEA. R. (_anxiously_). Stop, Reeny, I’ll explain it all. My friends in -Rossville came and brought me this suit in the night. - -MRS. R. (_contemptuously_). Fiddlestick! Do you expect me to believe that -ridiculous story? I’m really afraid you’ve been drinking. Nothing else -could ha’ brought you to make such a fool of yourself. - -DEA. R. (_excitedly_). Mrs. Robinson, I command you to be silent. It’s -you that are makin’ a fool o’ yourself, I’d have you to know. It’s enough -for you to think of your own dress, and not interfere with mine. - -MRS. R. (_wringing her hands_). O Jonathan, is this the way you speak to -me, who’ve been a faithful wife to you for more than thirty years? - -(_FITZ HOWARD, clad in the DEACON’S old-fashioned garments, bursts into -the room, L., and rushes up to DEA. R., assuming a belligerent attitude._) - -F. H. So you’re the thief—aw—you rascal— - -DR. C. (_rising and coming forward_). What does this mean? - -F. H. (_gesticulating violently_). It means—aw—that this fellah has run -off with my clothes—a hundred-dollar suit, and left—aw—this worthless -rubbish (_extending his arms as if to show the clothes_) in its place. -(_In a loud tone._) Help! Police—aw—where’s the police? - -MRS. R. (_indignantly_). O Jonathan, have you brought disgrace upon your -innocent wife and family by this strange conduct? - -DR. C. (_in tones of horror_). O Deacon! - -DEA. R. Hear me; hear me. There’s some strange mistake. - -F. H. There’s no mistake about it. Bring the police. - -(_Police enter, L., and endeavor to handcuff him. DEA. R. struggles -furiously._) - -DEA. R. I won’t go to jail. Call the landlord. - -MRS. R. (_earnestly_). Yes; call the landlord. Perhaps he can explain -about it. - -(_One of the policemen goes out, R., and immediately returns with the -Landlord._) - -F. H. This man—aw—has stolen my clothes, and I demand his arrest. - -DEA. R. Well, landlord, you’ve known me a good many years. Do you think I -should be likely to steal now—at my age? - -L. Impossible; there must be some mistake. - -F. H. But there can’t be any mistake; don’t you see—aw—he’s got on my -clothes, and I his? - -L. (_smiling_). Yes; but if he intended to steal them he wouldn’t come -in, and sit quietly in the parlor with the garments on. But I haven’t -heard how it came about. Did either of you leave your room last night? - -F. H. I only left it for five minutes—aw—when the alarm of fire was -raised—aw—and this morning when I waked—aw—my new suit was changed into -these horwid things. (_Glances with contempt upon them._) - -L. (_to DEACON_). And did you leave your room, too? - -DEA. R. Yes; but only long enough to go into the entry and back again. - -L. I see how it is; your rooms were side by side. You both left them, and -when you returned, you each went into the other’s room. That accounts for -the change of clothing. (_One policeman beckons to the other, and they go -out, L._) - -DEA. R. By George, that must ha’ been the way ’twas done. But I declare -to goodness, I never should ha’ thought about it. (_To LANDLORD._) Thank -you, landlord, for gettin’ me out o’ this scrape. (_To FITZ HOWARD._) -And look here, young man, suppose we just go up stairs and swap clothes -again. I guess these aint any more becomin’ to me than them are to you. - -F. H. You’re right there—aw—old man. (_Exeunt DEA. R. and F. H., L._) - -MRS. R. Well, I thank goodness things have turned out as they have. I -wouldn’t ha’ had Jonathan gone to the convention in that rig for nothin’ -in the world. - -DR. C. (_sarcastically_). Not even if they had been a present to him from -his friends in Rossville! - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -MRS. MARDEN’S LESSON. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MR. JOHN MARDEN, A clerk, - MRS. MARY MARDEN, His Wife. - MR. EDWIN HASTINGS, His Friend. - AUNT REBECCA, Mrs. Marden’s Aunt. - SERVANT. - - - SCENE I.—_Sitting-room at MR. MARDEN’S. MRS. MARDEN, present, - L._ - -JOHN (_entering room, R., with boots in his hand_). It’s most time for me -to go to the store, Mary. (_Sits down, C., and puts on boots._) I declare -it’s astonishing how soon eight o’clock comes these short mornings. - -MARY (_who is dusting the room_). It brings to mind the mornings, in the -days gone by, when you were obliged to go to school, I suppose. - -J. Yes; and I can’t say I enjoy one any more than the other. It’s about -as disagreeable as leaving a nice, cosey fire on a winter’s night and -getting into a cold bed. - -M. But then I think one appreciates his home more, and enjoys the time he -is able to pass in it more fully, than if he remained at home. - -J. Perhaps you are right, Mary; but I shouldn’t object to try the other -way for awhile. (_Tosses slippers under the sofa._) - -M. John, dear, hadn’t you better put your slippers in their place? - -J. Oh, we’ll consider this their place. Then I shan’t have to go -searching after them to-night. - -M. There won’t be any need of _searching_ for them. If you put them where -they belong, they will be sure to remain there. - -J. But it’s a great bother to go out of one’s way for such trifles. -They’re much handier lying there, and will be all ready for me to put on -to-night. - -M. But life is made up of trifles, and leaving things round clutters up -the room so. - -J. Why, no; a thing looks as well in one place as another. Besides, -what’s the use of having a house if you can’t keep things where you -want to? But there (_pushing them still farther under the sofa with his -foot_), they’re out of sight now. They will be handy, and no one will be -the wiser for their being there. - -M. But I have to go around every day and pick things up after you. - -J. Oh, well, don’t pick them up; just let them stay where they are, and -then I can find them when I want them. (_Takes up overcoat from chair, -where he had left it on previous evening, puts it on, takes hat from -table, and exit, L._) - -M. (_alone_). Something must be done to cure John of this careless habit -of leaving things around; but how it can be arranged, I cannot tell yet. -I must think it over. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_The same. Room in disorder. Two hats on the piano, - a vest on the table, and two coats on as many chairs. A - dressing-gown thrown carelessly on the sofa, and slippers on - the floor near them. AUNT REBECCA and MARY enter, L._ - -AUNT REBECCA. And you have married since I saw you last; married happily, -I hope. (_They sit down, C._) - -M. Yes; I couldn’t wish for a kinder or pleasanter husband. But between -you and me, Aunt Rebecca, he has one fault that distresses me exceedingly. - -A. R. And what is that? - -M. He is so careless about his things. You have only to look about you, -and you will see at once what I mean. I haven’t been in this room until -now since he went to the store this morning. There are (_looking at each -as she speaks_) two hats, two coats, dressing-gown, vest and slippers -lying around. He is in such a hurry when he goes away, that he doesn’t -notice anything about it, and when he comes home, I have put them all in -their places, so I don’t think he realizes what an untidy appearance the -room presents. - -A. R. That _is_ rather a disagreeable habit. Have you spoken to him about -it? - -M. (_laughing_). Spoken? Yes; I’ve delivered whole lectures on the -subject. - -A. R. And what does he say? - -M. Oh, he makes light of it, and manages to change the subject whenever -it is brought up. I don’t like to spoil the peace of our cosey home by -scolding, but I feel as if something must be done. - -A. R. I see how it is, Mary. You must declare war. - -M. (_looking up surprised_). In what way? - -A. R. I haven’t fully matured a plan yet, but we will open the campaign -to-night, and, my word for it, if you follow my directions, you will come -off victorious. - -M. I am filled with curiosity to know how it is all to come about. - -SERVANT (_entering, R._) A littir for you, ma’am. (_Passes letter to M. -and exit, R. MARY reads the letter._) - -M. It is a line from John, saying that he will bring his friend, Mr. -Hastings, home to dine with us. I suppose he thought it possible I might -be out. - -A. R. What kind of a man is Mr. Hastings? - -M. Very pleasant indeed, and as fond of a good joke as any one I know of. -He and John are great friends. - -A. R. Then it will be just the time for us to open the campaign. - -M. You have it all arranged, then? - -A. R. Yes; draw your chair this way, and I will explain it to you. (_MARY -moves near A. R._) - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_Room in confusion. Slippers under the sofa, coats - on chairs, two of MARY’S dresses on sofa, and her shawl and - bonnet on JOHN’S arm-chair. Two of JOHN’S hats on table. MARY - crocheting, R. JOHN and EDWIN HASTINGS enter, L._ - -JOHN (_glancing in surprise, first around the room, then at his wife_). -What! house-cleaning, Mary? - -M. Oh, no. (_Turns to greet his companion._) I’m glad to see you, Mr. -Hastings. Sit down, do. (_Takes coat from chair, and tosses it carelessly -on sofa._) You haven’t been here for a long time. - -EDWIN (_looking round with an amused smile_). It _is_ a long time for me -to be away. - -J. (_taking M.’S shawl and bonnet from easy-chair_.) Say, Mary, what -shall I do with these dry-goods? - -M. Oh, lay them on the table. - -J. But there isn’t room. - -M. Isn’t there? Well, put them on the piano. - -J. But I was just going to open it, so that we might have some music. - -M. Well, put them on the sofa, then. There’s certainly room enough there. - -J. But some one may sit on them there. - -M. I guess not. - -J. (_glancing uneasily around_). Hadn’t you better pick up things a -little, Mary? - -M. (_carelessly_). Oh, no, just let them lie as they are. - -J. But they look so bad. And you know we frequently have callers in the -evening. - -M. Oh, they don’t look bad. I don’t see but a thing looks as well in one -place as another. - -J. I never saw your room look like this before, Mary. - -M. (_apparently surprised_). Didn’t you? But I thought we might as well -keep things handy. What’s the use of having a house, if you can’t keep -things where you want to? - -J. Oh, that’s it. So you’re giving an imitation of me, are you? - -M. (_smiling_). I’ve tried to. But don’t you like it? - -J. No, I don’t; that’s a fact. - -M. Well, then, if you’ll agree not to do so again, I’ll straighten up the -room; but if you have a relapse, mind, I shall have one, too. - -J. Oh, I shan’t; don’t fear. If I’m in danger of it, the recollection of -this scene will bring me back to the paths of rectitude. - -E. (_coming forward, and bowing with mock deference_). I congratulate -you, on the success of your scheme, Mrs. Marden, and have no doubt it -will prove efficacious. It is worth a dozen scoldings, and is a far more -agreeable remedy. - -J. (_exultantly_). I rather think it touches you a little, old fellow, -too, judging from the appearance of your bachelor apartments when I have -called there. - -E. I am sure of that, and have taken a part of it to myself already. When -next you come to my rooms, you will, without doubt, be struck with the -transformation, and will perceive at once, that I, as well as yourself -have profited by Mrs. Marden’s lesson. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - - -THE MAGIC MIRROR. - - -CHARACTERS. - - MADAME DEVINERESSE, ⎫ Fortune-tellers. - MADAME MARIE, ⎭ - TOM, DICK, HARRY, ⎫ School-boys. - WALTER, JOE, NAT, ⎭ - FAUSTINA, A Little Servant. - - - SCENE I.—_Room at a country boarding-school. HARRY, C., TOM, R. - C., and WALTER, R., present. Enter DICK, L. He advances to L. - C._ - -HARRY. Hallo, Dick, what’s up? - -DICK (_with a significant smile_). Who says anything’s up? - -H. There is, I know there is; I can tell it by your looks. Come, tell us, -like a good fellow. - -D. You must have a very vivid imagination to suppose one of my dignity -(_straightening himself up_) would descend to such trifles. - -TOM. One of _your_ dignity! That’s a good one. But come now, Dick, do -tell us if anything is going on. It’s been the perfection of dulness here -for the last three weeks. Any change would be welcome. - -D. (_dryly_). Does your last remark refer to your pockets, or some other -part of your habiliments? - -T. (_smiling_). Apply it where you choose. But come, you’ve got some -plan, I know. What is it? - -D. You are right, boys, I _have_ got a plan. But remember -(_impressively_), it must be a profound secret with us. - -WALTER. We are willing to make the most solemn protestations of secrecy. -Who’s to be the victim? - -D. Joe Sherman. - -H. Good! What’s the programme? - -D. He is to have his fortune told. (_The boys crowd around DICK._) - -T. (_eagerly_). How is it to be done? - -D. Perhaps you have learned that Madame Devineresse, the fortune-teller, -is stopping at the Everett House. It wouldn’t be very difficult for -her to flatter Joe into the belief that he was born for some great and -glorious end. - -W. He’s satisfied on that point, already. - -D. But you don’t understand. We will give her some hints of what he will -expect, and then can have the fun of listening to the whole performance, -and be better prepared to enjoy his remarks about it afterward. I have -had a little conversation with Madame Devineresse, and I feel sure she -will consent to co-operate with us. - -T. (_excitedly_). I’ll wager an inkstand that Dick’s already had his -fortune told by madame. - -H. That’s nothing strange. He has had it told by every fortune-teller -that’s visited the town for the last two years. - -D. (_coolly_). What difference does that make, when every one tells a -different story? A fellow must have some excitement in a little country -village like this. Of course I don’t believe a word said by any one of -them. But Sherman would. He’s just one of that kind. If she told him -anything he wished to believe, he would put implicit faith in it. - -W. (_shaking his head_). I don’t know about that. Joe is pretty cunning. -I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if he should discover the plot. - -D. Trust me for that. I’ve got things arranged so it is impossible he -could suspect anything. - -T. When is it to come off? - -D. This evening, at the rooms of Madame Devineresse. We are to be -concealed in the ante-room, and hear all that is said. It will be rich, -I assure you. Come to my room at seven o’clock, and we will be ready to -follow him. He will be there by half-past seven. - -H. How do you know he is going at all? - -D. I don’t expect he is thinking of it at present; but I must plan some -way to induce him to go, and to be there at that hour. So I must leave -you now. Don’t fail to be on hand at the appointed time. - - (_Exit DICK, L. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE II.—_The room of MADAME DEVINERESSE. She is seated in - an arm-chair, R. C. On the table before her are placed an - hour-glass and a pack of cards, a small mirror, and an open - book. Charts covered with mystical characters are hung on the - walls. A sickle, a stuffed eagle, and any other emblematic - figures which can be obtained, are disposed around the room. - A small picture (of any design) is hung up where it will be - reflected into the mirror when held by JOE. Each time he lays - down the mirror, the picture is changed without attracting his - attention. JOE is ushered in by FAUSTINA, L._ - -JOE. You are the fortune-teller, I presume, madame. - -MADAME DEVINERESSE. Yes; I am called so by those whom I serve. I unveil -the secrets of the future to those who desire to know them. Do you wish -to look into the magic mirror? - -J. I should like to know something of the future. - -MME. D. You shall do so. Bring me the magic mirror, Faustina. (_F. passes -mirror to her._) Young man, approach. (_J. draws near._) You wish to -learn something of the future. (_J. bows._) You are permitted to look -three times into this mirror, where you will see three scenes in your -future life. Take it into your own hands. (_J. does so._) What do you see? - - (_Exit FAUSTINA, R._) - -J. I see a school-room. There are many people present. It must be -examination day. - -MME. D. Do you see yourself there? - -J. Yes; the other scholars are all crowding about me, and seem to be -congratulating me for some reason. The teacher has come forward, and -presents me with a richly bound book. - -MME. D. That picture represents a scene in your life _three_ years hence, -when you will leave this school. You will graduate as first scholar in -your class. You see yourself as having just delivered the valedictory. -The other pupils are congratulating you, but many of them are envious at -the distinction accorded you, and which you have so richly merited. - -(_JOE’S face beams with pleasure. MME. D. holds out her hand for the -mirror. Taking it, she wipes it carefully, lays it on the table, waves -her wand over it three times, and then returns it to JOE._) - -MME. D. What see you now, young man? - -J. A crowded court-room. A case has just been tried. I am the centre of a -crowd of people, who are pressing up to shake hands with me. The opposing -lawyer sits at a little distance, casting glances of bitterness toward me. - -MME. D. That picture represents a scene _fifteen_ years hence. You -have gained a famous law-suit, which has placed you, though young, in -the front ranks of your profession. Envious persons have maligned you, -and opponents assailed you; but, without deigning to notice them, you -have steadily gone on, till you have attained a high position in the -profession which you adorn. - -(_MME. D. again takes the mirror. Taking a box from the table, she shakes -on the surface of the mirror a white powder. Wiping it carefully, she -makes passes over it with her wand, and hands it to the young man. He -gazes upon it for a moment in silence, and with pleased wonder. MME. D. -looks on benignantly._) - -MME. D. The picture pleases you, then. What does the mirror disclose? - -J. I see a beautiful house. On the balcony a gentleman is standing. He is -addressing a throng of people who are assembled before the house. They -wave their hats, and are full of enthusiasm. What does it mean? - -MME. D. Do you not recognize the gentleman? - -J. It looks like myself, but cannot be, for it is too old. - -(_MME. D. takes the mirror, and gazes on it for a moment._) - -MME. D. It does look somewhat older, and more mature. But why should it -not? It represents you as you will appear _thirty_ years hence. You have -steadily pressed onward, distancing all with whom you started at school. -You have just been elected as member of Congress, and the people, wild -with enthusiasm, are shouting your name, and calling for a speech. (_JOE -gazes, as if spellbound, on the mirror._) Are you satisfied with the -glimpses of the future which I have given you? - -J. (_with dignity befitting his future position, and, returning the -mirror to her_). Yes, my good woman, you have done very well. - -MME. D. There are few persons to whom such a brilliant future opens. -Whenever the glass has mirrored such scenes as I have shown you, it loses -power ever after to delineate scenes in _common_ lives. I therefore -present it to you, that, when depressed by the trials of life, you may -gain courage by gazing at its magic surface. I will place it in a box, in -which it must always be kept. Otherwise, it will lose all its power. - - (_Exit MME. D., R._) - -J. (_pacing back and forth_). And this is to be the end of my career! No, -not the end, for I may yet become President. I wonder what Harry, Dick, -and Walter would say, if they knew what I do. They have always thought -I put on airs; but they will, some time, realize that it was only my -natural dignity, which could not fail to assert its superiority to the -common herd around me. (_Enter MME. D., with box, which she hands to -JOE._) - -MME. D. Here is the precious mirror. (_J. takes it._) Handle it -carefully. When not in use, on no account leave it out of the box. It is -capable of producing other scenes in your life than those which I have -shown you. Whenever you wish to test it, you have but to wipe its surface -carefully, wave your hand over it three times, and it will produce your -image and surroundings more faithfully than they have yet been shown you. - -J. Thank you, madame, for your great, your inestimable gift. I will guard -it sacredly, and, when I become famous and powerful, I will reward you as -you deserve. - - (_Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE III.—_DICK’S room. JOE enters, R. He goes to table, C., - and takes up book._ - -J. (_solus_). I thought I should find a dictionary _here_. Dick told me -this morning I was the most “stultiloquent orator” he ever listened to. I -never heard the word before, but it has quite a grand sound, and I mean -to use it the first chance I get, but I want to know its meaning. (_Turns -over the leaves, and finds between them a letter not yet folded._) Hallo, -what’s this? (_Takes up letter._) A letter to Tim Bellamy. How I’d _like_ -to read it! But then it wouldn’t be just the thing. (_Glances towards -bottom of sheet._) What’s this? (_Reads._) “Now I tell you how we duped -Joe Sherman.” Why, that’s me. I must find out about that. (_Sits down -and reads._) “You know Joe is one of the most conceited boys in school. -Well, some of us fellows thought we’d have a little fun at his expense -through this failing. I heard, one evening, that a fortune-teller had -arrived at the hotel. You know I always had a weakness for having my -fortune told. So I went to see her, and finding her very pleasant and -obliging, I arranged with her to tell Joe’s fortune in a way that would -tickle his vanity. As I agreed to pay her for it, she was nothing loth -to do her part, and she did it well. Several of us fellows were in the -next room, and heard all that was said. She flattered him with glimpses -of the future which raised his opinion of himself so much that, since -then, he carries his head like a peer of the realm. By the way, these -glimpses of the future were had by looking into a seven-by-nine mirror, -which reflected pictures hung up behind Joe, and which we changed each -time he looked into it. We enjoyed, hugely, listening to the interview, -as I think we ought, for it took three of us several hours to draw the -three pictures. It was also quite a tax on the imagination, which had -to be stretched to the utmost to make Joe satisfied with his fortune. -But we were successful. I can’t help laughing when I think how carefully -he carried that little mirror home, promising to guard it sacredly. The -fortune-teller told him that when next he looked in it it would reflect -his image even more faithfully than it had yet done. I wonder what he -thought when he _did_ look in it and saw nothing but his own homely -countenance just as it was?” (_Puts back letter and closes the book._) - -J. (_solus_). Well, that’s the meanest thing I ever knew Dick to do. I -wonder who were with him; Harry and Tom most likely. But Dick was the -ringleader. He always is. The idea of my being made such a laughing -stock! (_Paces back and forth._) It was the climax of meanness. But -I’ll turn the table on them. I guess Nat and I are capable of planning -something which will pay up old scores. We’ll have a consultation -to-night, for I want it done before Dick sends his letter, so he can not -only tell the story of his exploit, but also give the sequel. (_A noise -is heard, L._) Ah, somebody’s coming; I mustn’t be seen here. - - (_Exit, R. Curtain falls._) - - - SCENE IV.—_Same as Scene II. The room is darkened. In the - background is placed a large screen, from behind which—whenever - they can escape observation—several boys peer out. Enter DICK, - R., with an open letter. He advances to R. C._ - -D. I don’t see who could have sent me this notice. The handwriting is -evidently that of a lady. Possibly it is that of Mme. Marie herself. But -the puzzle is, how she happened to send it to me. I suppose, though, -some one informed her that I liked to have my fortune told occasionally. -(_Reads._) “Madame Marie, the veiled prophetess of the East, respectfully -gives notice that she has taken up her residence at Number 27 Osborne -Street, where she will remain for seven days only, during which time -she is willing to unfold the future of those who may wish to become -acquainted with its secrets. Madame Marie will disclose the mysteries of -the past, as well as the hidden events of the future. As her stay is -of limited duration, those wishing to consult her will do well to call -at once.” (_Places note in his pocket and paces back and forth with his -hands clasped behind him._) I received this note only an hour ago, and -hastened to call upon her. But although I have been here full fifteen -minutes, I have as yet seen no one. Where _is_ Madame Marie? (_Enter MME. -MARIE, L., shrouded with a black veil._) - -MME. MARIE (_in measured tones._) She is here. What would you have? Shall -I tell you the past, or only the future? - -D. I would hear something of the past as well as of the future, if you -please, madam. - -MME. M. That is well. I will consult the oracles, and give you their -testimony. (_A pause. DICK looks expectant._) Ah, yes, the events of -our past life come crowding up before me. I see that you are credulous, -impulsive, and somewhat superstitious. - -D. Credulous and superstitious! Oh, no. - -MME. M. (_waving her hand_). Silence. It is not meet that you interrupt -the disclosures of the oracles. Superstition signifies a fondness for the -unknown and mysterious; therefore you are superstitious. You are also -credulous; for did you not believe the revelations of Madame Devineresse, -who came here a short time ago, and who is an arrant impostor? You were -the means of bringing to her a young man who wished to look into the -magic mirror. - -D. (_smiling at the recollection_). Yes, and he went away with higher -aspirations, and a feeling of inward pleasure which cannot be described. -I think praise rather than blame is due me for this deed. - -MME. M. I need not tell you of the deception which you practised on -him. Even now circumstances are at work which will bring to you direful -consequences on account of that deed. - -D. (_somewhat troubled_). What do you mean? Has he discovered the trick? - -MME. M. (_without heeding him_). I see the young man standing before a -tall, stern-looking person. The young man is talking earnestly, but I -cannot hear his words. The tall man listens attentively, and soon the -young man goes out. The tall man seems angry. Hark! he speaks: “So this -is the way the boys spend the hours they should be employed in study. No -wonder recitations are poor. But it is fortunate that I have discovered -the cause in such good time. I will make an example of this case, and -will inflict on the chief offender such a severe punishment that it will -strike terror into the hearts of the remainder of the school. What shall -it be? Ha! I have it. John, bring me a strong rope, and a couple of good -willow switches. Then call together the scholars.” - -D. (_in a fever of excitement_). Is there no way of avoiding this -punishment? - -MME. M. (_unheeding him_). I see the scholars crowding into the room, but -there is one of them who cannot be found. No one knows where he is gone. -Now a note is handed to the tall man. He nods approvingly, and tells all -the scholars to follow him. Ha, they come this way! They are at the door! -They enter! (_She starts back, and the boys from behind the screen come -noisily forward. They surround MADAME M. DICK is in a state of great -excitement._) - -NAT. Hooray for the great fortune-teller, Madame Marie! (_Pulls off her -veil and cloak, disclosing the features and figure of JOE SHERMAN._) - -J. (_comes forward smiling_). Is your fortune satisfactory, Dick? - -D. (_confused_). I don’t know. Let me see. (_Recovering himself._) Yes, -very much so. It’s turned out far different from what I expected, a -moment ago. I anticipated a more tragic and _striking_ close. (_Comes -forward, and takes JOE’S hand._) We’re quits now, Joe. I give you credit -for turning the tables on me completely. But henceforth I shall keep -clear of fortune-tellers. They are great humbugs, as I have had ample -opportunity to know. Besides, it would be far more sensible for us boys -to plan our future ourselves, and then try to live up to it, than to -listen to the idle talk of those who care for nothing but the money of -their victims. Now, Joe, I challenge you to enter the list with me, to -gain the prize offered for the greatest number of perfect recitations -during this term. What do you say? - -J. I’ll do it, Dick. I’ll _try_ for the prize, anyway. - -D. That’s it, old fellow. And whichever is successful, the progress we -have made will stimulate us to strive for still higher honors. And who -knows but we may yet gain as great distinction as was pictured to you by -Madame Devineresse, in the Magic Mirror? - - (_Curtain falls._) - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEEKING HIS FORTUNE, AND OTHER -DIALOGUES *** - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the -United States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms -of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online -at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Seeking His Fortune, and Other Dialogues</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Horatio Alger, Jr. and O. Augusta Cheney</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 21, 2021 [eBook #64607]</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Edwards and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net</div> - -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEEKING HIS FORTUNE, AND OTHER DIALOGUES ***</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span></p> - -<h1>SEEKING HIS FORTUNE,<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smaller">AND</span><br /> -OTHER DIALOGUES.</span></h1> - -<p class="titlepage"><span class="smaller">BY</span><br /> -<span class="smcap">HORATIO ALGER, Jr.</span>,<br /> -<span class="smaller">AND</span><br /> -O. AUGUSTA CHENEY.</p> - -<p class="titlepage">LORING, Publisher,<br /> -<span class="smaller"><span class="smcap">Cor. Washington and Bromfield Streets</span>,<br /> -BOSTON.</span></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span></p> - -<p class="titlepage smaller">Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1875, by<br /> -<span class="larger">A. K. LORING,</span><br /> -In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span></p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span></p> - -<p class="dedication"><span class="gothic">To</span><br /> -MY FATHER AND MOTHER,<br /> -<span class="gothic">This Volume</span><br /> -<span class="smaller">IS DEDICATED, BY THEIR AFFECTIONATE DAUGHTER,</span><br /> -O. AUGUSTA CHENEY.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">PREFACE.</h2> - -</div> - -<p>Nearly all the dialogues in the present collection were -originally contributed to a juvenile magazine in New York. -Many of them have been used at exhibitions in different -parts of the country, and met with a degree of favor -which has led to their publication in this more permanent -form. While intended for representation, it is hoped -that readers may find them a source of entertainment.</p> - -<p>It is proper to add that only the first dialogue belongs -to me. The remainder are written by my sister, whose -name appears with mine on the title-page. So far as these -are concerned, my part has been merely that of an editor.</p> - -<p class="right">HORATIO ALGER, <span class="smcap">Jr.</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">New York</span>, May 1, 1875.</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak">CONTENTS.</h2> - -</div> - -<table summary="Contents"> - <tr> - <td></td> - <td class="tdpg"><span class="smcap">Page</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Seeking his Fortune</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#SEEKING_HIS_FORTUNE">11</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">One Week an Editor</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#ONE_WEEK_AN_EDITOR">27</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Keeping Genteel Boarders</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#KEEPING_GENTEEL_BOARDERS">37</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Skinflint’s Bargains</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#MRS_SKINFLINTS_BARGAINS">57</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Grundy’s Tyranny</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#MRS_GRUNDYS_TYRANNY">67</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Aunt Hannah’s Valentine</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#AUNT_HANNAHS_VALENTINE">79</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Bliss’ Vision</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#MR_BLISS_VISION">95</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">High Life Below Stairs</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#HIGH_LIFE_BELOW_STAIRS">105</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Boarding on a Farm</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#BOARDING_ON_A_FARM">115</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Taming a Wife</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#TAMING_A_WIFE">127</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">John Smith’s Trials</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#JOHN_SMITHS_TRIALS">139</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Aunt Rachel’s Fright</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#AUNT_RACHELS_FRIGHT">149</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">The Hypochondriac Cured</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#THE_HYPOCHONDRIAC_CURED">161</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Aunt Patience’s Ear-Trumpet</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#AUNT_PATIENCES_EAR-TRUMPET">169</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">The Ghostly Visitation</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#THE_GHOSTLY_VISITATION">183</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Practical Husbandry</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#PRACTICAL_HUSBANDRY">193</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Smith’s Day at Home</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#MR_SMITHS_DAY_AT_HOME">207</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">The Country Cousin</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#THE_COUNTRY_COUSIN">217</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Taking Poison</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#TAKING_POISON">231</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Deacon Robinson’s Present</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#DEACON_ROBINSONS_PRESENT">237</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Marden’s Lesson</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#MRS_MARDENS_LESSON">249</a></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">The Magic Mirror</span></td> - <td class="tdpg"><a href="#THE_MAGIC_MIRROR">257</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="SEEKING_HIS_FORTUNE">SEEKING HIS FORTUNE.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Dea. Elnathan Peters</span>,</td> - <td>a Farmer.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Almira Peters</span>,</td> - <td>his Wife.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Jonathan Peters</span>,</td> - <td>his Son.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Thomas Hampton</span>,</td> - <td>a Commission Merchant.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Samuel Jenkins</span>,</td> - <td>his Clerk.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i>An old-fashioned kitchen. <span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> is paring -apples, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> <span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> nodding over a newspaper, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> -<span class="smcap">Jonathan</span>, a tall, countrified-looking specimen, sits -moodily, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, with chair tipped back, and his hands in -his pockets.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jonathan.</span> Well, marm, I’ve made up my mind I -shan’t stay in Beanville any longer.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters.</span> Why, Jonathan, how you dew talk! -What’s got into you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I’ve got tired of Beanville, marm, that’s what’s -the matter. I aint goin’ to stay here all my life, raisin’ -cabbages, and hoin’ taters. I’m fit for somethin’ -better.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. Peters</span> (<i>rousing from his nap</i>). What’s the -boy talkin’ about, mother?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I might as well tell you fust as last, dad. I’m -goin’ to Bostown.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Massy sakes! Bostown’s a hundred miles -off. What you goin’ there for?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> To make my fortin.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> ’Taint so easy as you think for, Jonathan. -You’d a plaguy sight better stay round here and help -me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I can’t do nothin’ here, dad. I have to work till -I get all tuckered out, just to make a livin’ and can’t -never wear anything better than overalls. Now, if I -was in the city, I could wear store clothes all the time, -like that are fellow that boarded up to the tavern last -summer.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> I’m afraid, Jonathan, you’re gettin’ -proud. You aint no call to be ashamed of wearin’ -overalls. They’re what me and your father always -wear.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> (<i>slily</i>). Yes, mother, you <i>do</i> wear the -breeches sometimes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> (<i>in a deprecating tone</i>). Now, father, you’d -orter be ashamed. You know I didn’t mean that. -(<i>To</i> <span class="smcap">Jonathan</span>.) I mean, Jonathan, your father and -me aint ashamed of wearin’ workin’ clothes. I’m afraid -you’re gettin’ proud, and pride’s a deadly sin.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Can’t help it, marm. When that feller passed -me in the field last summer, he turned up his nose at -me, and I aint goin’ to stand it. I’m as good as he is, -any day.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> So you be, Jonathan.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> And I want, to dress as well. So I’ve made up -my mind to go to Bostown, and go into business there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> What sort of business?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> As to that, I aint partic’lar. Anything that I -can make money by.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> Perhaps you’ll lose it. They’re pooty -sharp in Bostown, I’ve heard tell. Most likely you’d -get cheated out of all you’ve got.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Yes, Jonathan, listen to what your dad -says; he’s had more experience than you hev.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> He don’t Know much about Bostown, anyway.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> (<i>complacently</i>). Yes, Jonathan, I know a -good deal about the city. I’ve been there three times. -Fust time was just after me and your mother was -married.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Thirty-one years ago.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> Yes, Almiry, thirty-one year. Then -again, I went down to sell a yoke of oxen for Squire -Peabody.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> That time you had your pocket picked, and had -to borrow money to git home.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> (<i>coughing</i>). Ahem! yes, I believe it was -that time. Then again, I went seven year ago, and -stayed to the Mechanics’ Fair. That are was a great -sight.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Well, dad, I haint never been at all, and I’m -goin’,—that’s all.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> You aint nothin’ but a boy, Jonathan.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Aint I, though? I’m twenty-one year old, and -taller’n father, and I weighed myself down to the store, -yesterday, and weighed a hundred and eighty. I -should think I was old enough and big enough to be -trusted away from home.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> The city is a wicked place, Jonathan. -Who knows but you’d get to drinkin’ and swearin’?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> There aint no danger of that, marm. I tasted -some whiskey, the other day, down to Hiram Johnson’s, -and it most turned my stummik. I shan’t drink anything -stronger’n cider.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> That’s right, my son. Cider’s good, for -we know what it’s made of. Apples are healthy, and -when a body’s tired, a mug of cider goes to the right -spot.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> (<i>doubtfully</i>). Yes, father, but you know -Sam Wilson got drunk on cider one town meetin’ day, -and smashed forty panes of glass in the meetin’-house.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> Wal, wal, he drank more’n was good for -him. But, Jonathan, to come back to your plans, have -you thought what you shall do when you get to the -city?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Why, dad, I calc’late there must be plenty of -work to be did. I reckon I should like to tend in a -store.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> Lazy business, Jonathan.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> That’s what I like it for, dad. I’ve had hard -work enough, and I want to take it easy awhile. -Maybe I shall go into business on my own hook, if I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span> -get a good chance. There aint no reason why I -shouldn’t get rich as well as other folks.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> (<i>hastily</i>). I hope, Jonathan, you aint goin’ -to take that two hundred and fifty dollars out of the -Savings Bank, that yer Aunt Betsey give you in her -will.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Of course I be. How can a feller go into business -without capital?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> (<i>solemnly</i>). You’ll lose every red cent of -it, take my word for it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> And earn five times as much more, marm; I -guess I know how to make money as well as other -folks.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Deacon, do say somethin’ to git him off -this foolish plan. He’ll fail, sartain, an’ it’ll make his -aunt rise from her grave, if he loses all the money that -she earned by knittin’ an’ dryin’ apples.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> (<i>reflectively</i>). I don’t know, Almiry, but -the boy might as well try his luck, seein’ he’s sot on it. -Perhaps he may do well, arter all.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>delightedly</i>). That’s the talk, dad.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Well, I dunno. It seems to me mighty -resky. However, if he must go, he’ll have to wait till -I’ve knit him some winter stockings. He’s most out.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I kin buy some in Bostown, marm. They’ve got -plenty there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> (<i>contemptuously</i>). And what are they -worth I should like to know? Boughten stockin’s -won’t stand any wear at all. Then, there’s your shirts; -you aint got but three.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Well, there’s enuff; I kin wear one a week, an’ -three’s enough to shift with.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> You’ll have to be more partic’lar in the -city. I’ve heard that some folks in the city wear as -many as three clean shirts in a week.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> They must be awful dirty to need changin’ -so often. But I guess, Jonathan, you’d better have -one more made.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Well, you kin send the shirt and the stockin’s -to me by express. I’ve made up my mind to go next -week.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> An’ what’ll Mary Jane Parker say to that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I don’t care.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> I thought you were sweet on her only a -little while ago.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Wal, she aint anything but a country gal. -Maybe I shall find a good-lookin’ city gal that’s got the -tin.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> O Jonathan, I’m afeard you’re gittin’ vain. -“Vanity of vanity! All is vanity!” says the Scripters. -Mary Jane would make you a real capable wife. -She can make butter an’ cheese equal to any gal in -Beanville, an’ she made fifteen dollars, last summer, -sellin’ eggs.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>contemptuously</i>). What’s fifteen dollars?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> The time may come when you’ll be glad to -git fifteen dollars.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Now, marm, don’t go to discouragin’ a feller; -I’m bound to be rich, and when I’ve made money enuff, -I’m going to buy you a silk gownd.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Thank you, Jonathan; I allus thought I -should like a new silk gownd. I aint had a new one -for twenty year.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Well, marm, you shall have it jist as soon as -I’ve made my pile.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Pile of what, for the land’s sake?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Made my fortin, I mean. And I’ll buy father a -new Sunday go-to-meeting coat.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> I guess you’ll want your money for other -things, Jonathan. Don’t count your chickens before -they’re hatched.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Can I have the horse to-morrow, dad?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> What for?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I’m goin’ over to the bank to get my money.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> Yes, I reckon so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> You’d better go with him, father. He -might git robbed on the way home. I shan’t feel safe -with such a lot of money in the house.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Well, ’twon’t be in the house long.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Jonathan</span>, in a blue suit with brass buttons, -stands <span class="allsmcap">R. C.</span>, waiting for the stage. Beside him -is a blue chest containing his worldly effects. <span class="smcap">Deacon</span> -and <span class="smcap">Mrs. Peters</span> stand near the door, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>looking toward <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>). I hear the stage, marm.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Yes, it’s just comin’ over the hill. Hadn’t -you better change your mind, Jonathan, and stay to -hum, arter all?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Not by a jug-full. No, marm, the dice is cast, -and I’m bound to be somebody. No more diggin’ -taters for me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> Well, Jonathan, I wish you all success, -but I kinder have my misgivin’s.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Is the money safe, Jonathan?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Yes, marm, I’ve got it in my trowsers’ pocket.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Hadn’t you better leave part of it to hum? -You might have your pockets picked, you know.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> They won’t catch this child so easy. Don’t you -be alarmed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> I declare I’ve forgotten them doughnuts.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> (<i>looking toward <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>). Stage is just at the -corner.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> They’ll wait a minute.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>starting towards <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>). Can’t wait, marm. I’ll -buy some dinner at the tavern.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> It’ll be wastin’ your money.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> Never mind.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>going slowly toward <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>). Good-by.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P. and Mrs. P.</span> Good-by. Be sure and -write.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I’ll write just as soon as I get to the city.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> (<i>with her apron to her eyes</i>). It’s an awful -resk, Deacon, Jonathan’s going away from home.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. P.</span> Cheer up, mother. He’s a man grown. He -may make a fortune, after all.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p class="center">(<i><span class="smcap">Jonathan</span> returns <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> for his chest.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>solus</i>). Good-by to Beanville. When I come -back, I’ll make the folks stare. Mary Jane’ll have to look -up another feller. I’m goin’ to look higher.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i>A small room in the fifth story of a Boston -hotel. <span class="smcap">Jonathan</span>, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, sits poring over the advertising -columns of the Boston Herald.</i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I had no idee there was so many houses in the -world. Bostown’s a big place, to be sure. But I don’t -see where they pastur’ all their cows. I didn’t see none -in that big lot in front of the State House. I guess -folks must have a power of money to live in such fine -houses. The State House must have cost twice as -much as our meetin’-house, and p’r’aps more. Anyway -I’m bound to see if I can’t make my fortin -here. The landlord told me I might find a chance for -business in this paper. I guess I’ll look over it, and -see what I can find. (<i>Reads the paper intently for a few -minutes.</i>) Why, here’s the very thing! Let me spell -it out again. (<i>Reads aloud.</i>)</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Two Thousand Dollars A Year!</span> Wanted, a -young man with a small capital, to engage in a lucrative -business, which is sure to pay him at least two -thousand dollars a year. Call at once on Samuel -Jenkins, 15 S—— street.”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>jumping to his feet in excitement</i>). Where’s my -hat? I say that’s an all-fired good chance! Two thousand -dollars a year! Why, it takes away my breath,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span> -thinkin’ of it. Here I’ve been workin’ for dad for ten -dollars a month, and that aint but a hundred and -twenty dollars a year. Our minister don’t get but -three hundred dollars and his house-rent. Guess he’ll -hev to look up to me ef I git this chance. I must go -right off, or some other feller’ll be ahead of me.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Puts on hat, and exit <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span>—<i>A small office. <span class="smcap">Samuel Jenkins</span> sits <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, -in a lounging attitude, smoking a cigar. A knock is -heard <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> He jumps up hastily, and admits <span class="smcap">Jonathan</span>.</i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>bashfully</i>). Be you Mr. Jenkins?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sam.</span> (<i>bowing</i>). I am, at your service.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I seen the advertisement what you writ in the -papers, about wanting a partner,—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> With a small capital?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Yes, with a small capital, and I thought I’d call -and see if you’d take me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> (<i>aside</i>). The fellow’s just from the country. -I must impress him a little. I wonder how much -money he’s got. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Well, as to that, I can’t -say, positively. I must ask you a few questions. -Have you lived in the city long?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Wal, no, I live to Beanville, when I’m ter hum.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> (<i>reflectively</i>). Beanville! I don’t think I ever -heard of the place.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Sho! I thought everybody’d heard of Beanville.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> Then I suppose you have never been in business.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>hesitatingly</i>). Wall, no, not exactly; but I -tended in our store two days when the other feller was -gone.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> That is nothing;—but perhaps you could -learn.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). Oh, yes, I kin learn pooty quick, ef -you’ll only try me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> Then about the capital. How much money -have you got?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I hed two hundred and fifty dollars when I left -hum, but I guess I’ll have to leave some to pay my -board. I kin invest two hundred and twenty-five dollars.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> (<i>aside</i>). That isn’t as much as I hoped, but -I’m dead broke, and that’ll do to till I take in another -flat.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>anxiously</i>). Will that do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> Why, it isn’t as much as I expected; considering -the large income which you will receive, it is very -small.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I will come for less than two thousand, if you’ll -only take me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> No, I will pay what I guaranteed. I suppose -you have references.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I’ll write to our minister to send me a character.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> Never mind. I have a knack at reading -faces, and I can tell by yours that you are honest and -industrious.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>gratified</i>). Then you will take me?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> Have you got the money with you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Yes; shall I pay it now?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> You might as well, and the partnership shall -begin at once.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>drawing out his pocket-book, and counting out -some bills</i>). Two hundred, two hundred and ten, two -hundred and twenty-five. I guess you’ll find it right.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> (<i>looking over the bills carelessly</i>). Yes, quite -correct. Stay, I will give you a receipt. What is -your name? (<i>Writes.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Jonathan Peters.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> (<i>passes him receipt</i>). Mine is Jenkins. Success -to the firm of Jenkins and Peters. I’ll see about -a sign.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). Do you do it here? I don’t see -nothin’ to sell.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> Oh, it’s a commission business. I’ll attend to -that, and you’ll do the writing. I suppose you can -write a good hand.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Oh, yes, I’ve been to writin’ school two winters. -I can’t write very fast.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> Never mind, you’ll learn. Practice makes -perfect. I think I’ll have you begin to-day. Do you -see that book? (<i>Points to an old ledger on the desk.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Yes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> Well, there’s a blank book. I want you to -copy out of the ledger into the book, beginning at the -first page.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> All right. I kin do it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> Be very particular not to make any mistakes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I’ll do my best.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> (<i>taking his hat</i>). I’ve got to go round to the -bank to deposit this money, and will be right back. -See how much you can copy while I am gone.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Yes, I’ll work faithful.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">S. J.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>solus</i>). Well, aint that a streak of luck! Here -I am, just come to the city, and earnin’ a salary of two -thousand dollars a year. Won’t it make dad stare? I -guess marm’ll be glad I come now. Wonder what -Mary Jane’ll say? She’ll be mighty sorry I’ve gone -and left her. But she aint fit for the wife of a merchant -like me! I must write to dad to-night. I would -now, only my time belongs to the firm. Two thousand -dollars a year! Why, that’s six dollars a day, and -more, almost as much a day as I used to git in a -month. Guess I’ll buy a watch after I git my first -month’s pay. Holloa, what’s that?</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Thomas Hempton</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> (<i>looking at <span class="smcap">Jonathan</span> with surprise</i>). What are -you doing here?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>with dignity</i>). Tendin’ to business.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> And how do you happen to be attending to business -in my office?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Look here, mister, I guess you have made a -little mistake. This aint your office. It’s mine and -Jenkins’.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> (<i>sarcastically</i>). Indeed! And I suppose that is -your ledger that you have before you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Of course it is.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> Well, you’re a mighty cool customer, though -you look rather green than otherwise. Perhaps you -can tell me who this Jenkins is.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> He’s the boss of this concern. That is, him and -me are the two bosses.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> Well, you’re about right there. You look more -like bossies than anything else. If you ever lived in -the country, as I should judge from your appearance -you had, you will know what that means.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>advancing in a threatening manner, and brandishing -a ruler</i>). I say, stranger, quit that. None of -your sarse, or I’ll break yer head.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> (<i>with dignity</i>). Enough of this, young man. -Put down that ruler. Now, tell me, have you given -this man, Jenkins, any money?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Yes; two hundred and twenty-five dollars, and -he’s took me into partnership.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> When did you see him last?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> He went out an hour ago.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> You’ll never see him, I’m afraid, or your money -either.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>terrified</i>). What’s that, stranger?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> In short, he’s swindled you. Jenkins is not his -real name. He is a clerk of mine, of whom, for some -time, I have had suspicions. He took advantage of a -three days’ absence of mine in New York, to put an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span> -advertisement in the paper, which has taken you in. -He’s got your money, and that will be the last we shall -see of him, unless the police pick him up.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>crying</i>). He’s carried off all my money. Boo! -hoo! and I aint earnin’ two thousand dollars a year -after all. Aunt Betsey’s money gone. Boo! hoo! -What’ll marm say?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> I’m afraid your money’s gone past recovery, but -if you want to stay in the city, there’s a friend of mine -wants a good, strong fellow in a grocery store. He -will give you two dollars a day.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>drying his tears</i>). Well, that’s pooty good. It’s -a good deal more’n I kin make in the country. I’ll take -it. (<i>Enter boy, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, with a note.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> (<i>opening it hastily</i>). Young man, here is good -news. The police, having some suspicions of Jenkins, -arrested him as he was on the point of leaving the city -for New York, and he is now in custody. You will -probably recover your money.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>executing a double shuffle in his delight</i>). O -crackey! my money safe. Now I shan’t be ashamed -to write home. You won’t forget about that grocery -place?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> No, I will see my friend to-day, and I have no -doubt he will take you. By the way, where are you -boarding?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> At the Blank House.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> The board is pretty high there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> My room is high, anyway, in the fifth story -but they charge me only three dollars a week.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> Three dollars a day, you should say.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> By gracious, you don’t mean it!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> Certainly; some of the hotels charge four and -five.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> How do they expect a feller can eat three dollars’ -worth of victuals in a day?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> You’d better leave there at once. I’ll give you -the address of a place where you can get boarded for -six dollars a week, while you’ll be earning twelve.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> We kin git board up to Beanville for two dollars -a week.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> Beanville and Boston are two different places, -and differ greatly in some important respects. If you -will wait here a few moments, I’ll go out and speak to -my friend about this place that you want.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>solus</i>). Well, I wouldn’t ’a’ thought that Jenkins -was such a tricky feller. I’d like to jist git hold of -him once, and ef I wouldn’t give him a kick that -would land him in the middle of next week, it’s because -I’d lost the use of my foot, that’s all.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="ONE_WEEK_AN_EDITOR">ONE WEEK AN EDITOR.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Fernando Clapp</span>,</td> - <td>Editor pro tem.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Ephraim Simpson</span>,</td> - <td>a Country Farmer.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Dr. John Jenkins</span>,</td> - <td>Vender of Salve.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Eugene Snow</span>,</td> - <td>Printer’s “Devil.”</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Araminta Ellis</span>,</td> - <td>a Sentimental Young Lady.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Geo. Crane</span>,</td> - <td>a Mechanic.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Dr. Wm. Randall</span>,</td> - <td>Proprietor of Anti-Dyspepsia Pills.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Henry Perkins</span>,</td> - <td>a Fierce-looking Individual.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i>A country printing office. <span class="smcap">Editor</span> pro tem. -sitting <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> before a table <span class="allsmcap">C.</span> covered with MSS. Piles -of newspapers upon the floor on either side of him. -A pair of scissors in one hand and a pen in the other. -Enter <span class="smcap">Ephraim Simpson</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ephraim Simpson.</span> Is this the office of the “Petersville -Post”?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Editor</span> (<i>with some curiosity</i>). It is.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> You are the editor, I reckon?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> You are right.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> Well, you see my name is Ephraim Simpson, -and I live over to Greenfield. I’ve been workin’ this -summer hayin’, but I found it was too hard work, and -I reckoned I’d come to you and see if you couldn’t give -me a chance to edit a little.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> Why, you know it is quite a difficult thing to -learn to edit a paper. It requires education, judgment, -and a variety of other qualifications.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> Oh, as to that, I guess I can satisfy you. I -have tended school in our deestrict for four winters, -and can read, write and cipher like a book.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> That is all very well, but you know one must -be able to compose as well as write.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> Oh, compositions you mean. Well, I have -written them some. Don’t you want me to try my -hand and show you what I kin do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> I am not in particular need of an assistant just -now, but perhaps you might as well sit down and try -your hand at writing an editorial. (<i><span class="smcap">Ephraim</span> sits -down, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Enter, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, a rusty-looking individual, with a tin trunk -under his arm.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">John Jenkins.</span> Are you the editor of the “Post”?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> I am.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. J.</span> Then, sir, allow me to present you with a box -of my famous salve (<i>hands box to him</i>).</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> Thank you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. J.</span> Perhaps you’d be willing to insert this little<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span> -paragraph about it. I wrote it off to save you trouble -(<i>hands paper to editor</i>).</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>reading aloud</i>). We have received from Dr. -Jenkins a box of his Magnetic Salve, which is warranted -to cure every description of cut or bruise in an -incredibly short space of time. We know a boy who -accidentally cut off one of his fingers. His mother -being absent, he bethought himself of Dr. Jenkins’s -salve, which she had bought the day previous. He -applied it to the injured finger, and before night there -was not even a scar to indicate where the wound had -been.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>looking up</i>). You want me to insert this?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. J.</span> (<i>in an insinuating tone</i>). Yes, sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> But I don’t know the boy referred to.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. J.</span> My dear sir, aint you rather new in the business?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>indignantly</i>). Well, and what if I am?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. J.</span> (<i>smiling sarcastically</i>). I thought you were, or -you’d understand that this is the way they always do -things.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> We are a little more conscientious than editors -generally. However, you assure me that the salve is -good?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. J.</span> (<i>warmly</i>). Nothing better in the whole world, -sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> And you think it would be safe to speak well -of it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. J.</span> Sir, you will be conferring a blessing on the -community.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> Very well, I will write a little puff for you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. J.</span> Thank you, sir.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Printer’s Devil</span> (<i>entering, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>). More copy, sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> Here it is (<i>handing him a paper</i>).</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">P. D.</span></i>)</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>A knock is heard at the door, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> Come in.</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Enter young lady, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Young Lady.</span> Please, sir, I am Araminta Ellis, the -authoress of “Lines on a Faded Buttercup.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> I am delighted to see you, Miss Ellis. Did the—the -poem you speak of appear in the “Post”?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. E.</span> (<i>surprised at his ignorance</i>). No, sir, it was -contributed to the “Weekly Bulletin.” I have never -written anything for the “Post,” but should be willing -to do so. What are your terms?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>blandly</i>). Three dollars a year.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. E.</span> I do not mean the subscription price of the -paper, but how much do you pay your poetical contributors?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> We—ahem—that is, our friends are kind -enough to make us a free gift of their productions in -that line.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. E.</span> (<i>insinuatingly</i>). But don’t you pay for superior -poetry? I have here a poem which I would like to -see transferred to your columns (<i>passes manuscript to -him</i>).</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>taking the poem</i>). Seventy-seven stanzas! That -would be too long for our columns. Couldn’t you -shorten it?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. E.</span> Not without marring its symmetrical proportions. -But I will write another and a shorter one soon, -which will perhaps suit you better.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> Thank you, Miss Ellis. That will undoubtedly -be better suited to our columns.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">A. E.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Enter, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, <span class="smcap">George Crane</span> excitedly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">George Crane.</span> Sir, don’t you regard it as a part -of an editor’s duty to unmask villany and expose it to -the world?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> Certainly, sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">G. C.</span> Then I should like to furnish you with some -information respecting a neighbor of mine, named Henry -Perkins. He is a hypocrite, sir! He professes a good -deal, but secretly practises petty acts of meanness. I -have every reason to believe that he beats his wife; and -he has been suspected of robbing his neighbor’s hen-roosts. -Just write an article touching him up, and I’ll -subscribe to your paper for a year.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>cautiously</i>). Cash in advance?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">G. C.</span> (<i>promptly</i>). Yes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> Very well, then. I’m your man.</p> - -<p class="hanging">(<i><span class="smcap">G. C.</span> hands <span class="smcap">Ed.</span> five-dollar bill, and receives two dollars -back as change. Exit <span class="smcap">G. C.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> Enter <span class="smcap">William -Randall</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">William Randall.</span> Is Mr. Clark in?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> No, sir; but as his substitute I shall be happy -to serve you.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W. R.</span> You must know, sir, that I have been laboring -for some years past on the preparation of a remedy -for dyspepsia. At length, after great labor and research, -I have prepared a pill which I am sure will -prove an infallible cure in the most obstinate cases. I -have the pleasure, sir, of presenting you with a box of -Dr. William Randall’s Anti-Dyspepsia Pills (<i>passes box -to him</i>).</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> Thank you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. R.</span> (<i>preparing to leave</i>). By the way, I suppose -you will favor me with a notice?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>hesitating</i>). Ye-es.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Dr. R.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p class="hanging">(<i><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> sits down to write. After a moment’s pause <span class="smcap">Ephraim -Simpson</span>, who has been writing (when not gazing at -visitors), starts up.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. S.</span> Well, Mister Editor, how’s that? (<i>handing -him a paper.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>reading aloud</i>). The hoss.—The hoss is a -noble animal. He is also interestin’ and knows a good -deal. Some folks get very much attached to their -hosses. I knowed a Frenchman once, that thought so -much of his hoss that he even went so far as to call his -own mother a <i>mare</i> as a pet name. Hosses are very -interestin’ animals when they don’t rare up. Not havin’ -any more to say on this subjick, I will stop.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>gravely</i>). That is very good; but, on the -whole, I don’t think there is any need of an assistant -just yet. If there should be a time when I stand in -need of one, I will certainly <i>think of you</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. S.</span> (<i>disappointed</i>). Then you haint got anything -for me to do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> Not just now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. S.</span> Then I must go.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">E. S.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>Printing office. <span class="smcap">Ed.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, looking complacently -at a newspaper spread out to its full proportions -on the table before him.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>soliloquizing</i>). And this is the result of my -first week’s labor as an editor. Excellent as my friend -Clark has heretofore made the “Post,” I think he will -acknowledge that I have made some improvements in -it. (<i>Glances complacently down the page. His eye is -suddenly arrested by a paragraph which startles him.</i>) -What! What’s this? (<i>Reads.</i>)</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Mr. Fernando Clapp</span>,—<i>Dear Sir</i>: I am instructed -by your tailor to present, for immediate payment, his -bill amounting to twenty-one dollars, eighteen cents -and three-quarters. You are requested to pay immediate -attention to it, as otherwise the law will take cognizance -of your delinquency.</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Timothy Pettigrew</span>, <i>Att’y at Law</i>.”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>furiously to <span class="smcap">P. D.</span> entering <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>). How did this -get into the paper?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P. D.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). You gave it out as copy, sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> When?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P. D.</span> The first day you were here.</p> - -<p class="hanging">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">P. D.</span> as <span class="smcap">Dr. Randall</span> enters <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> He is evidently -very much excited. He holds in his hand a copy of -the “Post.”</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. R.</span> (<i>pointing to an item</i>). Did you write that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>coolly</i>). Yes. I hope it suits you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. R.</span> Suits me! Confound your impudence! -Suits me! What do you mean by that, sir?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> You seem angry—why, I am at a loss to -guess.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. R.</span> Sir, in noticing my medicine, you have insulted -me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). In noticing your medicine! How?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. R.</span> (<i>placing paper within two inches of <span class="smcap">Ed.’s</span> nose, -he repeats</i>), “<i>He says it will cure the most obstinate case -of dyspepsia. Perhaps it may.</i>” I demand an explanation, -sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>stepping back</i>). It is very easily given. I only -intended to say, that personally I had no experience of -the matter, and not being able to speak positively, I -said “<i>perhaps</i>!”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. R.</span> (<i>suspiciously</i>). Is that true?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> Certainly. But, if you wish, I will recall the -statement in our next issue.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. R.</span> That would be more satisfactory to me.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span></p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Enter, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, a fierce-looking individual.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Henry Perkins</span> (<i>in a threatening tone</i>). Are you the -editor?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>with quaking heart</i>). Yes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H. P.</span> (<i>sneering</i>). I suppose you don’t know who I -am?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> No, I don’t.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H. P.</span> (<i>fiercely</i>). I am that Henry Perkins whom -you have so atrociously libelled in your paper of this -morning. Don’t think, sir, that such conduct is to go -unpunished! I stand upon my rights, sir, as a citizen, -and I will not be trampled upon.</p> - -<p class="hanging">(<i><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> seizes <span class="smcap">Ed.</span> by the collar of his coat and shakes -him vigorously.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>struggling</i>). Unhand me, sir!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H. P.</span> (<i>still shaking him</i>). There, you little blackguard! -I guess you won’t slander me again in a hurry.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>passionately</i>). I’ll have the law of you, you -villain!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H. P.</span> You will, eh! Then I must give you your -pay in advance.</p> - -<p class="hanging">(<i>He continues to shake him a moment. Then making a -low, mocking bow, he goes out.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ed.</span> (<i>furiously</i>). I won’t stand this. I’ll leave a -note for Clark, and go home this moment. There’s no -knowing what may come next. It is as much as one’s -life is worth to be an editor.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit hurriedly.</i>)</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="KEEPING_GENTEEL_BOARDERS">KEEPING GENTEEL BOARDERS.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jones</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>Keeper of a Boarding-House.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Amanda</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>Her Daughter.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Simperton</span>,</td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="7" class="valign">Applicants for Board</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Isadora Malvina</span>,</td> - <td>⎪</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Count Henri de Fripon</span>,</td> - <td>⎪</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Abigail Trist</span>,</td> - <td>⎬</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Zachary Winfield Taylor Scott</span>,</td> - <td>⎪</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Jethro Burbank</span>,</td> - <td>⎪</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Westwood</span>,</td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Sheriff.</span></td> - <td></td> - <td></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Randall.</span></td> - <td></td> - <td></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Bridget.</span></td> - <td></td> - <td></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i>A room in the house of <span class="smcap">Mrs. Jones</span>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. -J.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, and her daughter, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, present, both seated.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jones.</span> Well, Amanda, now that we have -taken a large house and prepared it for boarders, the -next thing will be to fill it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Amanda.</span> Advertise in the “Herald,” mamma.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> It may be a good plan. We ought to make -money; but when I consider that we have a large rent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span> -to pay, I can’t help thinking that there is some risk -about it. You know we were able to live comfortably -on the money your poor father left, and without any -care or exertion on our part.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>scornfully</i>). <i>Comfortably</i>, mamma! You know -how we had to pinch ourselves. I could hardly afford -one bonnet a year, and, as to dresses, I had to wear -them so long a time I was positively ashamed. Other -people make money by keeping boarders, and why can’t -we?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> You may be right, Amanda. But about -the advertisement. How shall we express it?</p> - -<p class="center">(<i><span class="smcap">Amanda</span> sits down at the table and writes.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> How will this do, mamma? (<i>Reads.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wanted.</span>—A few first-class boarders, by a genteel -family whose object is to surround themselves by a -pleasant social circle, rather than to make money. Address -“Boarders,” Herald office.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> But, my dear, my object is to make money.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Of course, mamma; but it sounds well to seem -indifferent to it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Perhaps you are right. (<i>A pause.</i>) I -wonder when the advertisement will appear.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> To-morrow morning, probably, and we may expect -applications at any time afterward.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Then it would be best to fix on a price for -board at once.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Yes, I suppose so.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> How would twelve dollars a week do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> It wouldn’t do at all. We couldn’t pay expenses.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> But I’m afraid if we charge such high -prices we shall not be able to fill our rooms.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> That’s just the means to accomplish it. Many -people judge of the style and reputation of a house by -the price asked. You ought to insist on at least fifteen -or twenty dollars for the best rooms, and a little less -for those not so desirable.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> But that won’t correspond with the advertisement, -where I say I take boarders for company, -rather than to make money.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> I don’t think that will ever be noticed; but if -it should, you can say with truth, that you could not -pay your expenses if you charged less.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Well, I hope we may be successful, for I -have made such an outlay in fitting up the house, that -our income will this year be far less than usual, and -our expenses correspondingly larger.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> There’s no doubt of our success. Three months -from now we shall be able not only to defray our necessary -expenses, but also to replace the money which you -were obliged to draw to pay for the furniture.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span></p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>The same. <span class="smcap">Amanda</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, present. She is -looking over the morning paper. Enter <span class="smcap">Mrs. Jones</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jones.</span> Ah, has the paper come, Amanda?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Amanda.</span> Yes, and the advertisement is inserted, -and reads well. (<i>Passes paper to her mother.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> That seems to be right—(<i>listens—sound -of bell is heard</i>). But hark! Isn’t that the door bell?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Yes; I hope it may prove an applicant for board.</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Servant ushers in <span class="smcap">Mrs. Simperton</span> and her daughter, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Simperton.</span> This is Mrs. Jones, I believe.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> You are right. That is my name.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>affectedly</i>). I must introduce myself as -Mrs. Simperton. And this is my daughter, Isadora -Malvina. (<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> bows.</i>) We saw your advertisement -in this morning’s “Herald,” and when we called -at the office, were directed here.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Yes, my daughter and myself wished for -company. It is rather lonely for two persons to live by -themselves in a large house like this, with no one near -but servants.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> It must be so, and I do not wonder that -you wish for companions. My daughter and myself are -thinking of boarding this winter, and I wish to make -some inquiries concerning your rooms. I suppose they -are newly furnished.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Yes, they all contain new furniture.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> And is it black walnut, with marble tops -to the bureau and tables?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Yes, a part of the rooms are furnished in -that style.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I suppose we could have our meals in our -own rooms.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> (<i>hesitating</i>). Well—yes—perhaps it could -be arranged so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> And I suppose we could have them at -whatever hour we chose.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> I think so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> That seems to be favorable. May I ask -your terms?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> For my best rooms, with private meals, I -should be obliged to charge twenty dollars a week -apiece. If the meals came at unusual hours, it would -be worth more.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>with emphasis</i>). Your charge is exorbitant. -Such accommodations are not worth more than -half the sum you name. Still I am willing to pay -twenty-five dollars for both of us.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> I couldn’t think of such a thing. I shouldn’t -be able to pay my expenses at such low rates for board.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I thought you didn’t keep boarders for -profit, but only for the sake of company.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> That is very true. I don’t take boarders -for profit, but neither do I intend to take them at a -loss. I shouldn’t consider their company to be of sufficient -value to compensate for that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Very well; I see we must look further. I -don’t believe we should be suited here. Come, Isadora<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span> -Malvina. (<i>Goes out, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, with a lofty air, followed by -her daughter.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> What airs people do put on sometimes! I’m -glad she didn’t decide to stay. I shouldn’t want her -for a boarder at any price. (<i>Bell rings. Enter <span class="smcap">Count -de Fripon</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Count</span> (<i>with a polite bow</i>). Can madame accommodate -me with a suite of rooms?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> I think so. What rooms do you desire?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> I should like a <i>chambre à coucher</i>—what you -call a bedroom; also a parlor in which I could receive -my friends.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> You would require board, too, I suppose.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Oui, madame,—yes, you are right. I should -wish board for myself, and sometimes I might bring a -friend with me to dine.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Certainly. We shall always be glad to see -any of your friends. In regard to terms—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>with a deprecating gesture</i>). Pardon, madame, -but—I never trouble myself with these trifling matters. -At the end of every month you will send in your bill to -me, and I shall pay it to you at once.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> That will be satisfactory. But what name -shall I put down?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>with a courtly air</i>). Count Henri de Fripon, -madame. Here is my card. (<i>Passes it.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> (<i>bows, while a pleased smile overspreads her -face</i>). And when would you like to come?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> I shall come to you next Monday, in the morning.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span> -I have the honor to wish you good day, madame; -bon jour, mademoiselle.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, with low bow.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> That’s a boarder after my own mind. He -never inquired the terms, and will be ready to pay when -the bill is presented. I wish we might secure others -of the same kind.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> And he’s one of the nobility, too. His presence -will give quite a distinguished air to the house.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Yes; he’s quite an acquisition. (<i>Bell -rings.</i>) Besides, who knows but—(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Miss Trist</span>, -<span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss Trist.</span> Good mornin’, ma’am. Good mornin’, -miss. (<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> and <span class="smcap">A.</span> both bow.</i>) I’ve come to see -about gettin’ boarded.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> I think we can accommodate you. What -kind of a room would you like?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss T.</span> It don’t make no sort o’ difference to me. -I only want a shelter. ’Taint likely I shall be spared -long to need one.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> (<i>with sympathy</i>). Are you an invalid?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss T.</span> No, I aint sick yet, but there’s no knowin’ -how soon I may be. My mother died <i>young</i>, and died -suddenly, too. I expect to go in the same way.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> I hope not. (<i>A pause.</i>) We have rooms -which, with board, vary from twelve to twenty dollars -per week.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss T.</span> My sakes! That’s an awful price, aint it? -But then I might as well spend my money for board as -to leave it for my relations to quarrel over.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> That certainly is a better way.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss T.</span> (<i>mournfully</i>). Perhaps you wouldn’t think -it, from my comin’ here to get boarded; but I’ve got -three sisters and two brothers, and they’re all watchin’ -to see if I aint goin’ to get sick an’ die, so they can -have my money.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> You’d better come here to board, then. I -dare say it would be the means of prolonging your life.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss T.</span> Do you think so? I wish I could believe -it, though (<i>dismally</i>) I haint got nothin’ to live for. -But then, if I aint to live long, it would be a comfort -to spend my last days in peace. I’ve had a great many -troubles and trials in my time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> I am sorry to hear it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss T.</span> Yes, I lost my best friend just six days before -we were to be married. If he’d only lived one -week longer, I might have been a desolate relict instead -of a lonely single woman.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> It must have been a great disappointment.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss T.</span> Yes; but then ’twas my luck. I don’t -place no dependence on anything now. (<i>Rising.</i>) -There’s no knowin’ what may happen; but I’ll come, to -stay, next Monday, if I’m alive an’ well.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>drawing a long breath</i>). Oh, I’m so glad she’s -gone. I hope something will happen to prevent her -coming. It’s as dismal to have her round as to be -alone in the house on a drizzly day in November.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> We can’t refuse any one who is willing to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span> -pay our price. But hark! some one is coming. (<i>Enter -<span class="smcap">Mr. Scott</span> hurriedly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Scott</span> (<i>nervously</i>). I have come to get boarded -here madam. (<i>With deprecating gesture.</i>) Don’t refuse -me, for I shall certainly commit suicide if you do. -You see I’ve set my heart on boarding with you and -your charming daughter.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> (<i>benignantly</i>). There is no occasion for my -refusing you. We have still a few rooms left that are -not engaged.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>in a hurried manner</i>). And what are your -terms—though that will make no difference. I shall -come, whatever they may be.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> We have one room, at fifteen dollars, that -may perhaps suit you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>with a theatrical air</i>). Fifteen dollars! Ask -me not to pay such a paltry sum. I would never pay -less than twenty-five.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Very well, you can pay any sum you -choose.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Then I choose to pay twenty-five dollars. -But there’s another inquiry that I wish to make. Can -I have a piano in my room?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> There is a piano in the parlor, which -the boarders are at liberty to use when they feel -inclined.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> But that will not suit me. Perhaps I should -wish to play when some one else was using it. No, I -must have one in my own room. (<i>Earnestly.</i>) I’m<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span> -willing to pay extra for it—five, fifteen, or even fifty -dollars a week, rather than not to have it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Certainly; if you are willing to pay for it -I will have one put into your room for you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> You relieve my mind greatly. I will be -here to commence boarding to-morrow. Here is my card. -(<i>Passes it.</i>) Good-morning, ladies.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit hastily, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> What a strange man! It isn’t often that one -meets with a person who sets so little value on money.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> His name is as strange as his actions.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>with curiosity</i>). What is it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Zachary Winfield Taylor Scott.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>with interest</i>). Perhaps he is a son of General -Scott. I’ve heard it said that the families of great men -are often eccentric.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Bell rings. Enter <span class="smcap">Jethro Burbank</span>, -<span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jethro Burbank.</span> I’ve come to see as how, could I -get boarded.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> We have some rooms still vacant, if the -price is such as to suit you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. B.</span> (<i>unheeding her remark</i>). You see, I’ve come -all the way from Hatchville, State of Maine, to see if I -could get a situation here in the city, and the fust thing -is to get a boarding-place. What do you calc’late to -charge me now? Don’t set it too high.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> The lowest-priced rooms we have left are -fifteen dollars per week, with board.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. B.</span> Gewhittaker! That’s an all-fired big sum. -You don’t mean that’s your lowest price.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Certainly. This is a first-class house, and -we do not take any boarders who can’t afford to pay -our prices.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. B.</span> Wal, I don’t know what you call fust-class -boarders, but marm boards the schoolmaster, and the -editor of the paper, and I guess they aint second to -nobody.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). And what does she charge for -board?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. B.</span> Wal, she charges jest two dollars a week. -That’s what I call a reasonable price. But I knowed -that prices were higher in the city, and I calc’lated I’d -have to pay as much as five dollars; but to pay three -times that, is more than I can stand. Why, the price -of a year’s board would buy me a good farm down to -Hatchville.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Then I’m afraid you’ll have to go back -there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J. B.</span> Wal, I shan’t give it up so. I’m going to -try further.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">J. B.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> It is getting late. I don’t believe we shall have -any more applicants to-day.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> You are mistaken, for here is one now.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Mrs. Westwood</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Westwood.</span> Good-afternoon, ladies. Am I -too late for a place? Are your rooms all taken?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> No. We have several left. There are -two in particular that I think you would fancy. One<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span> -is a very large and pleasant room. The other is a little -smaller.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Oh, I must have the large one, by all -means.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> The larger one, with board, will be twenty -dollars a week.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Very well, I will pay it. I’ve got plenty -of money at present. My husband died a year ago, -and left me with a large farm and a quantity of stock. -But I wasn’t going to be immured in a dismal farm-house—not -I. So I’ve sold the farm, and come to -the city to board till my money gives out. Perhaps -then you’ll take me as a partner in the boarding-house -business.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> I find it takes considerable money, even -for that business.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Oh, well, I’ve got enough—a couple of -hundred thousand dollars. But I’m not ready to go in -yet. I want to see a little of city life first. If I meet -a good-looking gentleman that invites me, perhaps I -shall become his partner instead of yours. But time -will show.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> What time would you like to commence?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> It might as well be now as any other -time. I can send for my trunks.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Very well; I will show you the two rooms, -though I think you will prefer the larger one.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Oh, I am sure I shall.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> and <span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>sola</i>). Quite a number of the rooms are already -engaged, and I think we may congratulate ourselves -on having made a good beginning. How much better -it will be to keep a genteel boarding-house than to tend -shop or keep school for a living.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i>The same. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Jones</span> present, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> Enter -<span class="smcap">Amanda</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Amanda.</span> Did you send for me, mamma?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jones.</span> Yes. I think it is necessary for us to -have a consultation about our affairs.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). I thought you were getting along -charmingly. I’m sure the house is full of boarders at -good prices, and has been ever since we commenced. -What more could you wish for?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Everything would be quite satisfactory if the -boarders would only pay up promptly. But Mrs. Westwood -and Miss Trist are the only ones that I can depend -on. The butcher and baker have sent in heavy -bills, and this morning I have received grocery and gas -bills, as well as bills for extra furniture that was required. -Then, too, a month’s rent is due for the piano -in the parlor and that in Mr. Scott’s room.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Ask Mr. Scott for the money due you for his -board.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> I have done so repeatedly, but he has such -a way of evading it that I can’t get anything. Indeed, -sometimes he gets so excited that I am almost frightened,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span> -and glad enough to leave him, even without my -money.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> But surely the count has paid you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Not a cent. I was to send in my bill three -days ago, but before I was able to do so he asked for -an interview, and said that he had been disappointed -about receiving money which he expected, and asked -me to wait a week longer. He seemed so sorry about -it that I couldn’t help accommodating him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Bridget</span> (<i>entering, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>). An’ did ye take the silver, -mum? I haven’t seen a sight of it since I left it on the -table after cl’aning it this morning.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). I haven’t taken it away. Was -the front door locked?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Yis, I thried that same, an’ it was locked as -usual. But jist as I went to look if it was fast, the -postman came, an’ brought this letter.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> (<i>opening it hastily, and glancing at signature</i>). -Why, this is from the count. (<i>Reads.</i>)</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“Dear Mrs. Jones: I write to let you know that I have just -received the money I expected, and which I was only -able to get by selling your silver, which I gathered up -this morning for that purpose. As the jeweller said it -wasn’t first quality, I got less than I hoped for, so I -sha’n’t be able to settle my board bill at present. You -will find the silver, also your daughter’s watch and -rings, at the shop of Willis and Turner. Yours,</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Count Henri de Fripon</span>.”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>excited</i>). What! My watch and rings. How -could he have got them?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Oh, the murtherin villain! An’ didn’t I tell -Kate, the cook, that he had too much blarny about him -for an honest man?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> (<i>troubled</i>). What shall we do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Send the perlice after him.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Miss -Trist, L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss T.</span> Oh, my poor head! I can’t stand it any -longer.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> What’s the matter, Miss Trist?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss T.</span> That Mr. Scott, whose room is right opposite -mine, is all the time playing on the piano. If it -was sacred music I wouldn’t mind; but it’s the quickest -kind of dancing tunes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Why don’t you knock at his door and tell him -how much it disturbs you? There is no one in the -parlor, and he can play there all the afternoon if he -wishes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss T.</span> Perhaps I will do so, for I’m afraid I shall -go distracted.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> An’ I must tell ye, mum, that Katy an’ me’ll -be afther lavin’ here intirely, if our month’s wages aint -paid by to-morrow.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Very well, I will attend to it. You can -go now. (<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Bridget, R.</span></i>) I’m sure I don’t know -what we’re going to do. I have received two letters -from Lawyer Snap about the last month’s rent. The -second one stated that if it was not paid immediately -legal steps would be instituted.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span></p> - -<p>(<i>At this moment hurried steps are heard, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Miss -Trist</span> rushes into the room, closely followed by <span class="smcap">Mr. -Scott</span>; her cap strings flying, and both hands are -placed on her devoted head, as if fearing a blow there. -Her companion dashes madly after her, holding a heavy -music-book in a menacing way.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Miss Trist, Mr. Scott—what is the matter?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>standing still for a moment, speaks in a fierce -manner</i>). That woman (<i>looking toward <span class="smcap">Miss T.</span></i>) has -been tormenting me. I was engaged in improvising -music, an opera which would have far exceeded anything -that Verdi or Meyerbeer ever composed, and was -just arranging one of the most delicate passages, when -that woman knocked at my door. (<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Sheriff</span> and -keeper by entrance back of <span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span></i>) Of course the interruption -was fatal to my opera. And what did she -come for? Why, she wanted me to go to the parlor -piano, because my music disturbed her. And through -her means, that divine opera is lost to the world. (<i>In -a loud tone.</i>) I will kill her! (<i>more fiercely</i>) I will -annihilate her! I will crush her to atoms! (<i><span class="smcap">Amanda</span> -faints, <span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> clasps her hands with a deprecating gesture, -and <span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> dashes after <span class="smcap">Miss T.</span>, who has sunk -with a frightened air into a chair in the farther corner. -The <span class="smcap">Sheriff</span> seizes <span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> from behind. The latter -struggles furiously, but vainly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff.</span> Here, Randall, take charge of this man. -He’s that lunatic who escaped from the asylum six<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span> -weeks ago. They’ve searched most everywhere for -him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>who is quiet for a moment—with a smile</i>). -I was too cunning for them. (<i>Again furious.</i>) You -shall not restrain me. I must annihilate that woman, -and then finish my opera. (<i><span class="smcap">Randall</span> takes <span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span>, -screaming and struggling furiously, from the room.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Sheriff</span></i>). How can I thank you, sir, -for delivering us from that madman?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff.</span> I am happy to have been of service to you -in that way; but my errand here was to give you trouble. -(<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> looks expectantly toward him. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Westwood</span> -enters, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>) I have been instructed to levy an -attachment on your furniture, on account of your refusing -to pay your rent.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> I am sorry it so happens. I depended on -the money which I was to receive from my boarders to -pay my expenses; but, of fifteen boarders, these two -ladies are the only ones who have paid.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> (<i>coming forward</i>). That’s a shame. Mr. -Sheriff, what’s the amount of your bill?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff.</span> Rent $125, and costs $25 more.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Here’s the money, $150. Now give me -a receipted bill.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sheriff.</span> Here is one, though I didn’t expect to -need it (<i>gives bill and takes money</i>). Thank you, -ma’am.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Sheriff</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> <span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> gazes in astonishment.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Mrs. Jones, what do your other unpaid -bills amount to?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> About five hundred dollars.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Well, I’ve got a proposal to make to you. -In the first place, however, I must explain a little. Do -you remember hearing your husband speak of his sister, -Sarah Jane, who went to California to become a teacher, -some twenty odd years ago?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Yes; she went away just before I became -acquainted with him. He frequently spoke of the circumstance; -but the vessel was wrecked, and he supposed, -as he heard no further tidings, that she must -have been lost with the other passengers.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Well, she wasn’t lost, but returned a -couple of months ago, and now stands before you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> And are you my Aunt Sarah?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Yes. I went, as you know, to San Francisco -with the intention of teaching, but on board the -steamer I became acquainted with Mr. Westwood, who -had started for California to seek his fortune. He and -myself and one other passenger were the only persons -saved from the wreck. He persuaded me to abandon -my original plan, and marry him. I did so, and we -went into the country, where he bought a sheep ranch. -He was prospered in all his undertakings, and, last -year, died, leaving me, by will, all he possessed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> But why haven’t you written to us in all -these years?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> We were intending, from year to year, to -come back soon to surprise my brother, but circumstances -constantly arose to prevent it. After my husband<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span> -died, I determined to come at once and seek my -relatives; but when I arrived I learned of my brother’s -death. I then sought a boarding-place, and in looking -over the paper met with your advertisement. Although -the name was the same, I had no idea you were his -widow till I saw his portrait hanging in the parlor. -Though grown older, his features had not yet changed, -and I recognized him at once. I engaged board with -you, thinking if I enjoyed stopping here I would propose -to become a permanent member of your family. -I now propose to take the house, pay your debts and -all the future expenses of house-keeping, in return for -the society of yourself and daughter. What do you -say to the plan?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> I should be very glad to have it so, but I -am afraid you do not realize what you are taking upon -yourself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Trust me for that. I know what I am -about.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Then there’ll be no more anxiety and worriment -about unpaid bills.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> And no desire to continue the experiment of -Keeping Genteel Boarders.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="MRS_SKINFLINTS_BARGAINS">MRS. SKINFLINT’S BARGAINS.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Skinflint</span>,</td> - <td>a very Parsimonious Woman.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Ezekiel Onthank</span>,</td> - <td>a Yankee Peddler.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Sarah Jane Hobbs</span>,</td> - <td>Ezekiel’s Sweetheart.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hobbs</span>,</td> - <td>Sarah Jane’s Mother.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Skinflint’s</span> sitting-room. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Skinflint</span>, -a tall, bony woman, with a sharp, pinched face, -is sitting in a rocking-chair, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, knitting.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Skinflint</span> (<i>soliloquizes</i>). I declare I’ll never -buy another thing at Thompson’s store. I paid fifteen -cents a yard for my last kaliker dress, and Mis’ Hobbs -bought one of a peddler yesterday, jest as good, for -thirteen cents and three quarters. It’s a shame! On -twelve yards I lost fifteen cents. That’s too much -money to lose in these hard times. I wish that -peddler would come along. I need a sight o’ things, -and if I couldn’t beat him down, my name aint Betsy -Jane Skinflint.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span></p> - -<p>(<i>A knock is heard at the door, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> <span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> rises and -opens it. The visitor proves to be <span class="smcap">Ezekiel Onthank</span>, a -Yankee peddler, with a large pack on his back. He -enters.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezekiel.</span> Mornin’, marm. Anything in my line -to-day? Dress-patterns, hoop-skirts, shawls, laces, -ribbons, jewelry, spectacles, buttons, scissors, needles, -pins—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Massy sakes! don’t tell any more of ’em. -I shall forget what you sed fust. You haint got no -good clocks, hev ye?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> Haint I though! I kin beat everybody on -clocks. I’ve got some that cum clear from Switzerland. -I imported ’em myself. Here’s one (<i>taking it from his -pack</i>), the pootiest and best little timepiece ever you -see.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Does it keep good time?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> I guess it does—tip-top. It goes ahead of -anything ever you set your eyes on.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>cautiously</i>). What d’ye charge for it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> (<i>hesitating</i>). Well, I hev been sellin’ on ’em -all along for twelve dollars apiece, but seein’ it’s you, -I’ll let you have it for ten.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>throwing up her hands</i>). Ten dollars! -D’ye think I’m made o’ money? Besides, the clock -aint wuth half that. But I don’t mind givin’ you five -for it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> That don’t pay the cost of importin’ ’em; -but, ef you’re goin’ to buy consider’ble, I’ll say five -for it. What’s the next thing?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I want ter git a pair o’ spettercles. As I -was ridin’ to meetin’, last Sunday, mine fell off, and -the wheel run right over ’em, and smashed the glass -all to pieces. I cared more about ’em ’cause they’d -ben in the famerly so long. Marm and granny both -used ’em afore me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> Mebbe they might be mended. Let’s see -’em.</p> - -<p class="center">(<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> produces a pair of heavy, iron-bowed spectacles. -<span class="smcap">Ezekiel</span> looks at them dubiously.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> I s’pose they might be fixed, but it’s my -opinion ’twouldn’t pay. Besides, the bows are too -heavy to wear. Didn’t nobody ever tell ye that -wearin’ heavy-bowed specs sometimes made folks -round-shouldered?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>straightening up</i>). No. Dew tell!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> But I’ve got somethin’ here that’ll suit you -to a T. Jest try ’em on (<i>handing her a pair of spectacles</i>). -That’s jest the article you want.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>trying them on and looking up</i>). Well, -they’re pooty fair. But I s’pose you’ll charge as much -as a dollar for ’em.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> A dollar! Why, woman alive, you don’t -think I’d sell them specs for a dollar. They’re the -real genuine periscopic Scotch pebble. They’re well -wuth five dollars, but I shall only charge you three for -them. ’Taint often you can get such a good article so -cheap.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I’ll give you two dollars for ’em.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> No, I can’t afford to sell ’em so low. But -I’ll tell you what I will do. I’ll split the difference, -and let you have ’em for two-fifty. They’re very -becomin’ to you—make you look ten years younger -than the others did.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>smiling at the compliment</i>). Well, I s’pose -I shall have to take ’em. But I shouldn’t think -’twould take you long to get rich at that rate.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> The fact is, I’m growin’ poorer every day. -I ought not to sell my goods so cheap; but the -wimmen have such captivatin’ ways that I can’t resist -’em. What’s the next thing?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Well, I want some caliker for a new gown. -I bought enough for one at Thompson’s, the other day; -but I want another.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> I’ve got jest the thing for you (<i>showing her -a piece of calico with stripes of red and yellow</i>). That’s -exactly your style, and it’s only twelve and a half -cents a yard.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Will it wash?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> Like white cloth. I’ve sold yards and yards -of that same pattern. It takes so well that one factory -don’t make nothin’ else.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs S.</span> Twelve and a half cents a yard is too -much. I can’t afford it, but I’ll give you a dollar for -twelve yards.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> Couldn’t do it. Think of a nice dress pattern -like that (<i>displaying the goods in a tempting -manner</i>) bein’ sold for a dollar. No, marm, I can’t -sell it any less.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>looking at it longingly</i>). I’ll give you a -dollar and a quarter.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> Well, as you’re taking consider’ble, I’ll let -you have it for that; but you mustn’t say nothin’ about -it. Why, Mis’ Hobbs bought some of it, and paid full -price. I’m boardin’ there at Mis’ Hobbs’s. She’s got -a pooty daughter—that Sairy Jane. Between you -and me, that’s the reason I went to boardin’ there, for -Mis’ Hobbs aint much of a cook.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>elated</i>). I allers knew that. She never -did hev much of a bringin’ up (<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> passes him -money.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> (<i>preparing to leave</i>). Thank ye, marm. -Well, aint there sumthin’ more? You’ll want some -hooks and eyes, and thread to make your dress with, -don’t ye?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Oh, you’ll throw them in, won’t ye? The -store people do.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> That’s askin’ a little too much.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Well, I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll give -you a mince pie for ’em. I made some fresh ones -to-day. What d’ye say? You know yer boardin’-place -aint anything to boast of.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> Well, I don’t mind doin’ it for once. (<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. -Skinflint</span> passes him pie from the table.</i>) But I think -I’d better be goin’. It don’t pay much to trade with you. -You’re a deal too sharp. (<i>Taking his pack, he leaves -the house.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>self-complacently soliloquizes</i>). I think I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span> -did make a good trade. Trust me for that. I saved -enough on them trades to buy me a set of furs, next -winter. They don’t cost but eight dollars, and I daresay -I could get ’em for five. But there, it’s most -twelve o’clock. I must be gettin’ dinner ready.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit.</i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>A curtain arranged from front to back, -dividing the stage into sitting-room, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and kitchen, -<span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, as both must be seen at once. There must be a -door between. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Hobbs</span> is in the sitting-room, -sewing, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Skinflint</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> How d’ye do, Mis’ Hobbs?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hobbs.</span> Why, how d’ye do, Mis’ Skinflint? -I’m glad to see you. Sit right down in the rockin’-chair, -do. (<i>She sits down, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>) It’s a pleasant -evenin’.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Yes, very pleasant. I cum over this -evenin’, Mis’ Hobbs, to see if there’s a peddler stoppin’ -here. I bought a clock of one, this mornin’, and he -sed he boarded here. The clock don’t go, and I want -him to come and fix it, or give me another one.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. H.</span> Yes, that’s him; jest come into the -kitchen. He’ll be right in, I guess. He always sits -in here, evenin’s.</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Just then voices are heard in the kitchen. <span class="smcap">Sarah -Jane</span> is seen knitting, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> <span class="smcap">Ezekiel</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Sarah Jane.</span> Well, what adventures have you had -to-day, ’Zekiel?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> The richest was with Mis’ Skinflint. Mis’ -Deacon Pettengill told me she was as mean as dirt -(<i>here <span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> starts, but, on second thoughts, waits to -hear what is coming next. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Hobbs</span> smiles, grimly</i>), -and I thought I see if I couldn’t sarcumvent her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> What did you do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> I offered her a clock for twelve dollars, and -she beat me down to five. I usually sell ’em for a -dollar and a half.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> I suppose ’twasn’t worth even that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> It doesn’t go much, but when it does, it -makes up for lost time. Then she wanted some <i>spettercles</i>. -She took a pair for two dollars and a half that I -generally get seventy-five cents for; but I’ll warrant -they won’t magnify any too much, for there’s nothing -but winder-glass in ’em.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>emphatically</i>). The villain!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S. J.</span> You was rather too bad, ’Zekiel.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> Not at all. She bought some calico, and -asked if it would wash. I told her it would wash like -white cloth, and I guess ’twill. After two or three -washings, there won’t be a bit of color left in it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Oh, the wretch! Won’t I give it to him! -(<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Hobbs</span> smiles. She evidently enjoys the scene.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> But the cream of the joke was that she -wanted some hooks and eyes and a spool of thread, -and gave me a mince pie for them. I tasted it, but it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span> -was such wretched stuff that I couldn’t eat it, so I -threw it into the river for the fishes.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Skinflint</span> dashes into the kitchen with arms -akimbo. <span class="smcap">Ezekiel</span> shrinks back with mock terror. <span class="smcap">Sarah -Jane</span> and her mother come forward, smiling, to see what -will be done.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> What do you mean, you wretch, by cheatin’ -me in such a way?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> I didn’t cheat you. You tried to keep me -from gettin’ any profit on my goods. I put a price on -them, and you could take them or not, as you pleased. -You was willin’ to pay what I asked for them; so I -don’t see how I cheated you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> You didn’t tell me the truth about ’em -(<i>furiously</i>). Then you called the nice pie I gave you -wretched stuff. I shouldn’t ’a thought of givin’ it to -you ef ye hadn’t said you didn’t git anythin’ fit to eat -here.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. H.</span> (<i>starting forward</i>). What’s that? What -did he say?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>gloating over her discomfiture</i>). He said -you wasn’t much of a cook, and, ef it warn’t for -courtin’ Sairy Jane, he couldn’t stand it boardin’ here.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. H.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Ezek.</span></i>). So that’s the way you repay -my kindness in taking you in, is it, you miserable -villain? I’m mad enough to pull your hair—if you -only had enough to pull.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ezek.</span> (<i>glancing sideways at her</i>). I shouldn’t dare<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span> -to pull yours, marm, for fear ’twould come off in -my hand.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. H.</span> (<i>advancing with a threatening air, and -catching up the tongs as she goes</i>). Get out of the -house, you insultin’ creature, and never let me set eyes -on you again!</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Ezekiel</span> goes out as if in fear, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, slyly beckoning to -<span class="smcap">Sarah Jane</span> to go too. She nods and goes out by -another door, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> <span class="smcap">Mrs. Hobbs</span> throws <span class="smcap">Ezekiel’s</span> pack -after him.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. H.</span> (<i>going toward <span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> with tongs upraised</i>). -Now, old Skinflint, do you go too. You’ve made mischief -enough here. I don’t blame the man for throwin’ -your miserable pie away. I hope it wont pizen the -fishes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>looking back as she goes out, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>). I guess -you’ll find you’ve got enough to look after, without -’tendin’ to your neighbors’ business (<i>pointing</i>). There -goes Sairy Jane with that peddler’s arm round her -waist.</p> - -<p>(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Mrs. Skinflint</span> from one door, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, while <span class="smcap">Mrs. -Hobbs</span> dashes out from another, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="MRS_GRUNDYS_TYRANNY">MRS. GRUNDY’S TYRANNY.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Charles Goodenow</span>,</td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="3" class="valign">Merchants.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Edward Henderson</span>,</td> - <td>⎬</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Frank Burley</span>,</td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Burley</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>Mr. Burley’s Wife.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Stockbridge</span>,</td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="2" class="valign">Mrs. Burley’s Friends.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wheeler</span>,</td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">James</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>A Customer.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Bridget Murphy</span>,</td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="2" class="valign">Owners of Fruit Stands.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Kate O’Callahan</span>,</td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Charles Goodenow</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, sits in a chair, -tipped back, gazing thoughtfully into the upper distance. -His head rests upon his hands which are clasped behind -it. Enter <span class="smcap">Frank Burley</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Frank.</span> Hallo, Charlie. In the land of dreams? If -so I won’t disturb you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Charles</span> (<i>not answering immediately</i>). Not exactly -dreaming. There was too much reality about my -thoughts for that. But sit down, Frank.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>sitting down</i>). And what were you thinking -about, if I am allowed to ask?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> I was thinking what slaves we were to Fashion -and Mrs. Grundy. I don’t know of one of my acquaintances -who would have courage enough to do anything -which would conflict with the usages of so-called good -society.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Don’t include me in that category. I have too -much independence to be subject to the dictation of -others.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> You think so, my dear fellow; but you don’t -realize your own weakness.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> On the contrary, I am confident of my strength, -and am willing to wager you one hundred dollars -against fifty that I will follow out any plan you may -promise to test my courage.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> I accept the stakes, and feel sure of winning -them. Now what shall the plan be? Let me see. -(<i>Covers face with his hands for a moment—pauses.</i>) I -have it. Frank, you must tend a peanut and apple -stand in the Park for one whole day.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>quickly</i>). I am willing to do it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>emphatically</i>). Remember, you must tend it the -whole day long, without absenting yourself for any -cause, except to take an hour for dinner.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I agree to that; nay, I will go further, and will -promise to dine at the stand.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> When shall the trial take place?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> As soon as possible, that you may know how well -I shall succeed. Let <i>to-morrow</i> be the day.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Very well; but there is to be one condition about<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span> -the matter. No one must suspect your reasons for -doing this, as, in that case, there would be no test at -all. If you even hint anything about it, you will lose -the wager.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I agree to that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Well, I’ll call round on you to-morrow, occasionally, -to see how you make out in the new business.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span> <i>In the Park. Two apple-stands at the back -of stage. They are several feet apart, and presided -over by <span class="smcap">Bridget Murphy</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Kate O’Callahan</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> -Enter <span class="smcap">Frank Burley</span>, who stands a little in front, but -between them, gazing first at one and then at the other.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. O’Callahan</span> (<i>rising—with her knitting in her -hand</i>). Some peanuts, sir, or apples—nice apples -three cents apiece?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Murphy</span> (<i>wiping apples on apron</i>). Here’s where -you’ll find your nice apples—three cents apiece, and a -good deal bigger than the other woman’s.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>approaching <span class="smcap">Mrs. M.’s</span> stand</i>). What will you -sell your whole stock to me for, my good woman?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>regarding him attentively</i>). And what do -the likes of you want of it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I want to buy your stock, and tend this stand -to-day.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>doubtfully</i>). Honor bright?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Yes. To-morrow you can have it back again, -and I’ll give you the stock that’s left over.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>shrewdly</i>). What’ll you give for it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I don’t know what it’s worth, but I’ll give you ten -dollars for the lot.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>quickly</i>). You can have ’em all for that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. O’C.</span> That’s four times more’n they’re all -worth.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> You’d better mind yer own business, -O’Callahan. There comes a boy that wants an apple -maybe. (<i>Boy comes in, looks at apples and passes out.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> You’ll have to tell me how you sell the things. -I don’t know anything about the prices.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> The apples are three cents apiece. Some -of the peaches are three cents, and some two cents, and -them bananas are ten cents apiece. If you sell a dozen -of ’em at once, you’ll sell at a little less price.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> That’ll do. I guess I shall get along well now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> Shan’t I lend you my apron to shine the -apples with?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> No, I thank you; I guess they look well enough.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> went out, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, going past <span class="smcap">Mrs. O’C.’s</span> stand, -and holding the bill which she had received exultingly towards -her. <span class="smcap">James</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">James</span> (<i>to O’C.</i>). How do you sell your apples?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. O’C.</span> Three cents apiece.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>to F.</i>). How do <i>you</i> sell <i>yours</i>?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Two cents apiece.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Well as yours are bigger and lower priced I’ll<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span> -take four of them. (<i>Takes them and pays for them and -exit.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>Several other persons pass in and buy of <span class="smcap">Frank</span>, to -all of whom he sells under price.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. O’C.</span> (<i>coming towards him with threatening -gestures</i>). What do you mean by coming here, and -interfering with a respectable woman?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I am not interfering with you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. O’C.</span> Aint you, though? I call it interferin’ -with my rights when you come and sell your apples under -price.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I’ll tell you what it is, my good woman, I’ve -sold most of my apples, and I will buy some of yours.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. O’C.</span> (<i>somewhat mollified</i>). And what’ll ye pay -me for them?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Three cents apiece.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. O’C.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). And you’re goin’ to sell ’em -agin for two cents?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Yes, there’s nothing like keeping trade lively.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. O’C.</span> Well, you’re the quairest man I ever did -see.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Burley’s</span> parlor. <span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> present, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> -<span class="smcap">Mrs. Stockbridge</span> and <span class="smcap">Mrs. Wheeler</span> enter <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> They -cross the room and shake hands cordially with <span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Stockbridge.</span> How do you do, my dear Mrs. -Burley?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Wheeler</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span></i>) How do you do? I am -delighted to see you looking so well.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Burley.</span> Thank you; I am well, and glad to -see you both. Take seats, won’t you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>aside to <span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span></i>) <i>She</i> doesn’t know of -it, I’m sure. (<i>To <span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span></i>) Have you heard the news -about Mr. Walters?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> (<i>interested.</i>) No. What is it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> He is hopelessly insane.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> That is very sad. But what was the -cause?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Overwork, I believe. Is it not so, Mrs. -Wheeler?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> That is the report, and it is said his wife -doesn’t dare to be alone with him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I heard that, yesterday, he jumped from -a window in the second story, and injured himself very -much.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> How shocking!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> He said he intended to kill himself, and -was sorry he didn’t.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> No wonder his wife feels timid. I dare -say he will make another attempt at suicide.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> There’s no doubt of it. In fact he told -his wife so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> He has threatened her life too; several -times I believe. (<i>To <span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> in significant tone.</i>) By -the way, Mrs. Burley, is <i>your</i> husband well?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> (<i>startled</i>). Certainly. But why do you -ask?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Oh, I merely inquired.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> But you had some motive in asking. What -was it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Tell her, Mrs. Wheeler.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Oh, it’s nothing I dare say. Still, some -things look a little singular.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> (<i>anxiously</i>). Pray explain.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Was your husband at home to dinner to-day?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> No, he said he should be too busy, and -would dine down-town.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> He didn’t state the nature of his business, -did he?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> No, but I supposed he was detained at the -store. Do you know anything of it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Yes; he’s been tending an apple-stand all -day to-day.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). It cannot be. You are surely -mistaken.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Not at all. It has been the town talk.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> (<i>meditatively</i>). It is very strange.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Insanity is not hereditary in your husband’s -family, is it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> Oh, no; and yet—let me see. Yes, I am -sure he told me that his grandfather died insane. But -Frank never could be in such a state. He has too -strong a mind for that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Still, you can’t help thinking it is a little -singular.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> Ye—es. But I cannot credit it. It seems -impossible.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Suppose you walk down to the Park and -satisfy yourself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). I will do so if you will go with -me. I am too nervous to go alone.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> We are willing to accompany you. Is it -not so, Mrs. Wheeler?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> Certainty. We could not desert you while -you are in such trouble.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). I will get my bonnet at once. -I will not detain you but a moment.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span>—<i>Same as Scene II., except that <span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> has -charge of <span class="smcap">Mrs. Murphy’s</span> stand. Enter <span class="smcap">James</span>, who -examines fruit at each of the stands. <span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> and two -companions are seen at side entrance, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, looking furtively -at <span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> They talk aside.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Arc you satisfied that it is he?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> Yes, it is certainty Frank; but (<i>perplexed</i>) -what can he be there for?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Why don’t you ask him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> I hardly know what to do.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> There are two gentlemen coming. Wait -and see what they say.</p> - -<p>(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Mr. Goodenow</span> and <span class="smcap">Mr. Henderson</span>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. -B.</span> beckons to policeman, and talks with him.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Henderson.</span> Hallo, Mr. Burley; haven’t you -got into a new business?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Yes, I have (<i>smiling</i>).</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. H.</span> (<i>quizzically</i>). How do you enjoy it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Very much, of course, or I should not have -entered into it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. H.</span> Going to make a permanent business of it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Can’t tell till I have tried it a week or two.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. H.</span> (<i>amused</i>). Burley, you play your part well, -that’s a fact.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>in apparent surprise</i>). Play my part well! -What do you mean?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. H.</span> Well, this is what I’ve got to say: If you -are not tending this stand you must be insane. (<i>Turning -to <span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span></i>) Don’t you think so, Goodenow?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Goodenow.</span> It looks like it, certainly. (<i>Enter -<span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> and her friends, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>) Ah! here comes Mrs. -Burley.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> and <span class="smcap">Mr. H.</span> gaze at them with curiosity. <span class="smcap">Mr. -B.</span> looks apprehensively.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> What are you doing, Frank?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Tending an apple-stand, my love.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> And pray what do you mean by disgracing -your family in such a way?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I don’t see any disgrace about it. A dollar -earned in this way is as good as one gained in Pearl -street.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. O’C.</span> (<i>who has been listening interestedly</i>). An’ -it’s little enough money you’ll make out of this business. -Sure an’ the sooner you give up yer stand the -richer you’ll be.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">James</span> (<i>to F.</i>). Here you, I say give me two of them -bananas. (<i>Pays for them, and exit, eating.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> (<i>aside to ladies</i>). Well, I can’t bear this -any longer. Something must be done.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. W.</span> What shall it be?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> One can see plainly enough he is insane.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> (<i>turning to policeman</i>). You can see that he -is evidently insane.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Policeman.</span> He does act strange, don’t he? A rich -merchant like him, to tend an apple-stand! But what -shall I do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> I don’t know. This is probably the first -stage of the disease. I’m afraid he may become -violent.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> Would you advise me to arrest him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> (<i>whose thoughts revert to <span class="smcap">Mr. Walters</span></i>). I -am so distressed I hardly know; but it seems as if he -ought to be prevented from doing any mischief. -Perhaps it would be better to do so. That would bring -matters to a crisis, and we should know the worst.</p> - -<p>(<i>Policeman goes round and comes in at an entrance -back of <span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Before the latter realizes it, he is handcuffed. -He starts up at once, indignant.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> What do you mean by insulting me in this -manner? Take these irons off this instant. Do you -hear?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span></i>). He is getting worse, you see.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> I couldn’t do it, my man. You better come with -me. (<i>Takes him by the shoulder.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Stop. First tell me what all this means.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> Certainly. No gentleman in your position would -think of leaving his business and tending an apple-stand -if he was in his right mind. So I have put on these -bracelets to prevent your doing any violence.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Ha, ha, ha! “So fades my dreams!” -Goodenow, you must give me credit for sustaining my -part of the agreement, as far as I alone am concerned. -But circumstances have conspired against me. (<i>Turning -to his wife.</i>) My friend and myself laid a wager -that I had not sufficient courage to tend an apple-stand -one whole day without giving any explanation thereof. -In attempting to do this it seems I have laid myself under -suspicion of being insane. I therefore abdicate in -favor of Mrs. Bridget Murphy, trusting she may find -the position a pleasant and more lucrative one than I -have done. (<i>He comes forward and <span class="smcap">Mrs. Murphy</span> -enters and takes his place.</i>) Henceforth, like a dutiful -subject, I will restrain all improper inclinations, and -confess that, like my friends and neighbors, I, too, am -a slave of Mrs. Grundy.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="AUNT_HANNAHS_VALENTINE">AUNT HANNAH’S VALENTINE.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Cynthia Leland</span>,</td> - <td>a Farmer’s Wife.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Montgomery</span>,</td> - <td>a Friend and former Schoolmate of Mrs. L.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Hannah Leland</span>,</td> - <td>Mr. Leland’s Sister.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Obadiah Rakestraw</span>,</td> - <td>a Bachelor.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Carrie Leland</span>,</td> - <td>Mrs. L.’s Daughter.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Herbert Walton</span>,</td> - <td>Carrie’s Lover.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Adolphus Fitz-William</span>,</td> - <td>Mrs. M.’s Nephew.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Caleb Leland</span>,</td> - <td>Carrie’s Brother.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i>In the field. <span class="smcap">Carrie</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Carrie</span> (<i>soliloquizing</i>). So Mrs. Montgomery’s -nephew is coming to-day. I hope he is agreeable. I -wonder if he is engaged. It must be nice to marry a -rich man, and live in the city, and go to balls, parties, -and the theatre. I don’t understand why Mrs. Montgomery -doesn’t feel so. She married a merchant, and -can live in fine style in the city, but yet she prefers the -country. And to-day her nephew is coming here. He -thinks people on a farm are countrified, but I guess we -can show him they are not all so. I’ve a good mind to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span> -flirt with him a little, by way of variety. I don’t -believe it would be very difficult to captivate him. -Perhaps, I can teach him a lesson. (<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Herbert</span>, -<span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, with a rake in his hand.</i>) Ah, Herbert—just going -to work?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Herbert.</span> Yes. Won’t you go, too?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> What inducement have you to offer?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> A ride home on the hay after it is put into the -wagon.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> That might be sufficient sometimes, but not -now, for I must hurry home. Do you know, Herbert, -we are to have a new-comer at our house, this afternoon?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> No. Who is it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> Mrs. Montgomery’s nephew. Adolphus Fitz-William -is his name, I believe. His aunt says he has -never been in the country at all, and he thinks farmers’ -families are countrified to the last degree. She has his -picture, and it looks very foppish.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> And he is coming to-day, is he?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> Yes; he’s expected in the first afternoon train, -and it’s about time for that to be here. (<i>Hears a step, -and turns toward <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>) I guess that’s he now. I must -go. (<i>She hurries out, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p class="center">(<i><span class="smcap">Adolphus</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> He wears eye-glasses, and carries -a cane; speaks affectedly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Adolphus.</span> Can you tell me, aw, where Fawmer -Leland lives, Jawnathan?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> (<i>leaning carelessly on rake—aside</i>). I think I’ll<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span> -humor him. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Wal, there now, who’d ’a’ -thought you’d known what my name was? Who told -yer?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>disdainfully</i>). You’re vewy familiah. Do you -know where Fawmer Leland lives?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). You aint come to court his daughter, -be ye?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Ah, has he a daughter?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> He has that, an’ a pooty one, too. Rosy cheeks -an’ bright eyes she’s got. I tell ye, she’s harnsome. -I think some o’ sparkin’ her myself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>contemptuously</i>). You, aw! Impossible! She -wouldn’t look at such a fellaw.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> You dunno. Love goes whar it’s sent, an’ -mebbe it’ll be sent to me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> But, aw, you haven’t answered my question. -Can you tell me, aw, where Fawmer Leland lives?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> Oh, yes, I remember. But, ’say, did yer come -from the city to-day?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> No, aw didn’t.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> Is that so? I swar, I thought yer did—yer -look so ’mazin’ spruce. How long be yer goin’ to stay, -now?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> No mattaw.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> Sho, now, don’t go ter gittin’ mad over it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>angrily</i>). Will you tell me, aw, where Fawmer -Leland lives or will you not, aw?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> In course I will; but you needn’t git so mighty -mad. Ye haint asked me yit.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>emphatically</i>). I’ve asked you fower sevewal -times.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> It’s no sich a thing. Ye asked me if I could -tell yer where he lived and ef I knowed where he lived. -In course I couldn’t arnser a question ’fore ’twas put. -I was eddicated to be perlite even ter my inferiors. -When yer <i>ask</i> the question, I’ll arnser it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>in a loud voice</i>). You impertinent fellaw, -where does Fawmer Leland live?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> Don’t go to puttin’ on airs, now. D’ye see -them chimblys over there? (<i>pointing <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>).</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Yes, aw do.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> Well, then, make a bee-line for ’em. Them’s -the chimblys to Farmer Leland’s house. (<i>Exit -<span class="smcap">A.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i> <i><span class="smcap">H.</span>, solus.</i>) If he’d been a civil feller, I’d ’a’ -shown him the path. Now he’ll have to climb four -rickety stone walls, and I dunno as how he can do it -safely with them tight breeches on. But I must go to -work. <i>Tempus fuggit</i>, as the schoolmaster says.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, with rake on his shoulder. Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Leland’s</span> sitting-room. <span class="smcap">Caleb</span>, -sitting, <span class="allsmcap">R. C.</span>, peeling apples. <span class="smcap">Carrie</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L. C.</span>, dusting -furniture. Enter <span class="smcap">Aunt Hannah</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Aunt Hannah</span> (<i>in a complaining tone</i>). Well, I -declare, haint you begun your baking yet, Car’line? -It’s nigh onto noon, and you won’t get dinner ready in -season.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> Well, you know I can’t make my pies till -the apples are ready. You’ll have to talk to Caleb. -I’ve been trying to hurry him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Cal.</span>, severely</i>). I should be ashamed, if -I was a boy, to be so long peeling a few apples.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> Oh, what’s the use in hurrying? There’s -plenty of time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>testily</i>). In my young days things didn’t go -on so. Good house-keepers got their bakin’ done by -eight o’clock in the morning. They didn’t spend all -day in the kitchen, as they do now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> Don’t be troubled, Aunt Hannah; everything -will be finished early, and dinner on the table at the -usual time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> Well, I hope ’twill, but things don’t look -much like it now.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">A. H.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> Aunt Hannah is never happy except when -she’s finding fault with somebody. She’s gone off mad, -and I’m glad of it. I hope she’ll stay away.</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Adolphus</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Adolphus.</span> I’ve been looking for you, Miss Carwy. -Will you, aw, go out and walk with me this morning?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> I don’t think I could. Mother is away, you -know, and I have all the housework to do.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Couldn’t I, aw, assist you, so you could go?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> I think not. I’m afraid there’s none of my -work that you could do.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>shaking his head in a significant way</i>). You<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span> -jest make me that offer, Mr. Fitz. I’ll warrant you I -won’t refuse. I know you’ll be able to do <i>my</i> work. -And I can show you round a great deal better than -Carrie can.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">A.</span> deigns no reply to <span class="smcap">Cal.</span>, but gazes earnestly at -<span class="smcap">Car.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> I declare, I’m afraid my bread is burning. I -nearly forgot it. (<i>Goes out, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> Heigho! I don’t feel like peeling apples. I -guess I’ll see what girl loves me best. (<i>Lifts the -entire skin of an apple, which he has taken off in one -long strip, and swings it slowly three times round his -head, then drops it on the floor behind him. He stoops -and examines it eagerly, then claps his hands.</i>) Sure’s -the world, that’s an L, an’ stands for Lizy Blake. I was -most sure ’twould be so. That sign always comes -true.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>who had been looking on with interest</i>). What -are you doing, aw, Caleb?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> I’ve been finding out who was my true love. -Want to try your hand at it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>glancing round to see that no one else is present</i>). -Well, aw, I might try.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> That one’s broken, but I’ll soon make you -another. (<i>Takes an apple, peels it, and passes the skin -to <span class="smcap">A.</span> The latter swings it very awkwardly round his -head, staggering as he endeavors to do so without breaking -it. At last he drops it on the floor behind him.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> I declare, Mr. Fitz, you’re about as graceful -as a cow.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>unheeding his remark, and examining the skin, -which lay curled up on the floor</i>). That’s a C, aw, -plain enough.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>looking at it closely</i>). It’s an exact H. Who -can that stand for? Oh, I know. It must be that -you’re going to marry Aunt Hannah.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> What do you mean, aw, by such a fawlshood? -(<i>Attempts to strike <span class="smcap">Cal.</span> with his cane, but <span class="smcap">Cal.</span> leaps -behind a chair, which he lifts, and uses as a protection. -Enter <span class="smcap">Car.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> Why, what’s the matter?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> Nothing, only Mr. Fitz has been telling me -who his sweetheart is, and he don’t like it ’cause I -won’t promise not to tell anybody.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> You’d better go out in the kitchen, and finish -your work. I’m in a hurry for the apples.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="smcap">Cal.</span>, -<span class="allsmcap">R.</span> <span class="smcap">Car.</span> sits down, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> You must be tired, aw, with your labors.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> Oh no, indeed; but I am waiting for that -lazy Caleb to finish the apples, so I can be making my -pies.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>deliberately spreading his handkerchief upon the -floor before her, and kneeling upon it</i>). Miss Leland—Carwy, -I have long sought, aw, this opportunity to -confess, aw, my love for you. Do not deny me, aw, -and doom me to dwead despair.</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>A sound of approaching footsteps is heard.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> (<i>hurriedly</i>). Mr. Fitz-William, rise, I beseech -you.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Not until you give me a favorable answer to -my suit.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> I cannot—I—(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Cal.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> <span class="smcap">A.</span> rises.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>laughs quite loud</i>). Ha! ha! ha! (<i>Enter -<span class="smcap">Mrs. Montgomery</span> and <span class="smcap">Aunt Hannah</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Montgomery.</span> What can be the matter?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> What’s all this noise about? Anybody’d -think the house was afire, to hear such a racket.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> It’s that impertinent young wascal, aw, who’s -been scweaming like a locomotive whistle.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> Who wouldn’t ’a’ laughed, if they’d come in, -as I did, and seen Mr. Fitz-William on his knees -asking Carrie to marry him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> Why, Adolphus, I thought you were engaged -to Helen Lindsay, who lives in the city.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> And ’twarn’t more’n ten minutes ago that he -spoke about marryin’ Aunt Hannah. (<i>The spinster -smiles benignantly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> I did not, aw. I’d sooner marwy Beelzebub’s -daughtaw than such a she-dwagon.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>seizing a broom and chasing him around the -stage.</i>) You would, would ye? Then, you just git out -o’ this house. You shan’t stay in it a minute longer.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>waving his hand</i>). That’s it, Aunt Hannah. -Pitch into him lively. Go ahead, an’ I’ll help yer.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">A.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, followed by <span class="smcap">A. H.</span> and <span class="smcap">Caleb</span>.</i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span></p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i>The same. Time, six months later. <span class="smcap">Mrs. -Leland</span>, sitting at table, <span class="allsmcap">R. C.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Caleb</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L. C.</span> -Enter <span class="smcap">Aunt Hannah</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>going to <span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span></i>). Is this stockin’ goin’ to -be large enough for Calup?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Leland</span> (<i>examining stocking</i>). I guess so. It -is larger than the last pair.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> Aunt Hannah thinks my understanding is -increasing pretty fast.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>bluntly</i>). It’s a pity ’taint your politeness -instid o’ your feet that’s agrowin’.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> (<i>looking up</i>). Take another chair, Caleb, -and let your aunt have the rocking-chair.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>rising and taking another chair</i>). Of course—age -before good looks.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>sinking down into rocking-chair</i>). In my -day, children warn’t allowed to make fun of their -relations.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> Caleb doesn’t mean anything, Aunt -Hannah, but he ought not to speak so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>severely</i>). P’r’aps he don’t. This aint the -fust time he’s been sassy to me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> Well, why can’t you be jolly, like other folks? -I have to make fun so’s to make up for your lookin’ an’ -talkin’ so dismal.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>sighing</i>). Well, I shan’t always be here to -trouble you with my looks. When I’m gone, maybe<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span> -you’ll wish you hadn’t laughed at me as you have. -(<i>Bell rings.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). There’s the door-bell. Shall I go, -mother?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> Yes, for I must go upstairs to get some -pieces to mend this coat with.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit</i>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>)</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> goes out, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and immediately returns with a -letter. He pretends to be studying the address.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> M-m-iss Lel-land.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> Calup, that letter’s for me. Give it to me -this minute.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>holding it behind him</i>). It aint a letter; it’s -a valentine. It’s got all sorts of pretty figures on the -envelope. Promise, Aunt Hannah, that you’ll let me -see the inside of it, and I’ll give it to you right off.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>rising, and laying knitting on the table</i>). I -shan’t make any promises. Give me that letter, Calup. -(<i><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> runs round stage with letter. His aunt, running -after him, tries in vain to catch him.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> (<i>from outside</i>). Ca-leb! Ca-leb!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>darting across the room in a tantalizing way, -lays letter on the table</i>). By the time you get it read, -Aunt Hannah, I’ll be back all ready to see it.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>takes letter eagerly, and sits down, <span class="allsmcap">L. C.</span></i>). It -is a valentine, as sure as I’m alive. Who could have -sent it? (<i>Reads.</i>)</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“My dearest One: This is St. Valentine’s, -the day when every person is privileged to write -tender epistles to their loved ones. So I have seated<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span> -myself to write to you. I did think of asking you a -question which my past attentions have, no doubt, led -you to expect. But, on second thoughts, I have concluded -to call on you and ask the question in person. -I am sure you will have no difficulty in recognizing</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Your Devoted Valentine.</span>”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>laying valentine on table, sits back in chair, -clasps her hands together, rocking, and apparently -meditating</i>). Well, there’s a perspective proposal, and -I’m sure it couldn’t come from anybody but Obadiah -Rakestraw. His mother’s just died, and he used to go -to singing school with me when I was a girl (<i>complacently</i>), -and he’ll be here to-night. I guess I’ll go -and fix up a little, as long as he’s sent me word he’s -coming.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">A. H.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> Enter <span class="smcap">Carrie</span> by same -door.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> (<i>soliloquizing</i>). Oh, dear, how unhappy I am! -it is six months since Herbert went away, and I know -it was because he thought I liked that popinjay -Adolphus. Of course, he doesn’t know that it was -nothing but a flirtation, and that I couldn’t endure the -sight of Adolphus afterwards. I didn’t think Herbert -would have gone off so suddenly, without even writing -me a note to say he was going. Six months ago, and -I’ve been so miserable all this weary time! (<i>Suddenly -sees the letter.</i>) What’s this, a valentine, addressed to -Miss Leland? Why, that’s my name, and, of course, -I have a right to read it. (<i>Opens it, and notices contents.</i>)<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span> -Yes, it was intended for me, and is in Herbert’s -handwriting (<i>joyfully</i>), and he is to be here this -evening! But how came it opened? (<i>With sudden -thought.</i>) It must be that Aunt Hannah has opened and -read it, thinking it was intended for her. I guess I’ll -place the letter where I found it (<i>lays it down</i>), and -leave the room till the time comes for Herbert to -arrive.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Carrie</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and enter <span class="smcap">Caleb</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> Well, that’s pretty treatment, for Aunt Hannah -to go off when I told her partic’larly I was coming right -back; and most likely she has carried the valentine -with her. (<i>Looking round, his gaze falls on the letter.</i>) -No, she hasn’t, either. By George! she was quite -good, for her. (<i>Takes letter, which he opens and reads. -Looks up with ludicrous expression.</i>) So Aunt Hannah -has really got a beau! Who can he be? I guess he -don’t know her as well as some folks do. Let’s see -(<i>Consulting the letter.</i>) He’s coming here to-night to -ask her that question. It’ll be worth a great deal to -see anybody making love to Aunt Hannah. How can -I manage to be round to see how it’s done? (<i>Looks -around.</i>) Oh, this is just the thing. (<i>Goes behind a -curtain, which he draws, thereby concealing himself. -<span class="smcap">A. H.</span>, dressed in black silk and wearing a gay headdress, -enters, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>taking letter, which she puts in her pocket</i>). -Well, there, I was rather ventur’som in leaving this -valentine on the table. It’s a wonder that Calup -didn’t come in an’ get hold of it. If he had, I’d never<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span> -have heard the last of it. (<i>A knock at the door, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> -<span class="smcap">A. H.</span> opens it, and ushers in <span class="smcap">Obadiah Rakestraw.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> Good evening, Mr. Rakestraw.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Obadiah Rakestraw.</span> Good-evening, Miss Leland. -So you’re all alone this evening. (<i>They sit down with -their backs to <span class="smcap">Caleb’s</span> place of concealment.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> Yes, I happen to be just now, but I suppose -the rest of the folks will be in soon. (<i>Aside.</i>) I -wonder if he won’t take the hint.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>aside.</i>) Oh, my! aint she sly?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O. R.</span> I thought I’d just come in and make a neighborly -call this evening.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> Just so. I’m glad the spirit took ye. It -be kind o’ lonesome for you at home.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O. R.</span> Wall, ’tis so sometimes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> Ye ought to get married.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O. R.</span> I’m afraid nobody’d have me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> Oh, you’re too shy. There’s nothin’ like -tryin’. To-night is St. Valentine’s, and there aint no -time like the present. All ye’ve got to do is jest ask -the question. I’ll warrant you’ll get a favorable -answer.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>aside</i>). Don’t she drive business?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O. R.</span> Wall, I’ve a good mind to take your advice. -As you say, ’tis kind o’ lonesome, an’ I can’t more’n -get refused (<i>rising</i>); so I’ll jest go over an’ ask Hitty -Trumbull if she’ll marry me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>indignantly, rising</i>). Mehitable Trumbull! -You don’t mean you’re going to offer yourself to her.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O. R.</span> That’s jest what I mean.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> Well, it’s downright dishonorable treatment, -after the letter you sent me to-day.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O. R.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). I haven’t sent you any letter.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>taking it from pocket</i>). Didn’t you write that -valentine?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O. R.</span> (<i>glancing over it</i>). I never saw it before; and, -between you and me, I don’t think it was intended for -you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> Do you mean to insult me by saying I open -other folks’ letters?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O. R.</span> Not exactly, but I think this was written to -your niece. It aint the kind o’ valentine one would be -likely to send to a person of your age.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> (<i>in a high tone</i>). You mean to twit me about -my age, do you? I’ll just let you know that I’m six -years younger than Mehitable Trumbull. But I won’t -listen to any more of your insultin’ remarks; so just -leave this house, or I’ll call somebody to help you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">O. R.</span> It’s lucky I didn’t offer to marry you, as you -asked me to. I see your temper hasn’t improved any -since we used to go to singing-school together.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">O. R.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> <span class="smcap">A. H.</span>, almost frantic, paces back and forth.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. H.</span> The villain! to treat me so. But it’s lucky -none of the folks know anything about it. I must -change my dress before any of them come in.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">A. H.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>coming forward</i>). Wasn’t that rich? To -think of Aunt Hannah, who “wouldn’t marry the best<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span> -man living,” offering herself, and then, after all, that -her love should be refused. (<i>Voices outside.</i>) But -who’s that? Perhaps, she’s coming back again. She -mustn’t find me here. (<i>Hides behind the curtain. -Enter <span class="smcap">Herbert</span> and <span class="smcap">Carrie</span>, talking earnestly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> It was only by accident that I happened to -see your letter at all. Aunt Hannah received and read -it, and thought it was sent to her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> Who could she have supposed sent it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> I don’t know, I’m sure.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>peeping out, aside</i>). I know all about it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> But you haven’t answered the question it -contained.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> (<i>demurely</i>). Did it contain one? I thought -the note said you intended to ask a question; but, as -you didn’t do so, I supposed you’d changed your -mind.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> You needn’t pretend ignorance. I can’t propose -with the same grace that Adolphus did, but you -can’t help knowing that I meant to ask you to marry -me. (<i>Taking her hand.</i>) Will you be my wife, -Carrie?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Car.</span> (<i>archly</i>). I suppose it wouldn’t do to say anything -but “Yes,” especially as, if I refuse, I couldn’t -return your letter, since Aunt Hannah has taken -possession of it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> I shouldn’t be satisfied with any other answer. -Now, let’s go and tell your mother about it, and then -we’ll set the wedding day.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt, arm in arm.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cal.</span> (<i>coming forward</i>). Well that was a little addition -I didn’t expect. I’ve always wondered how folks -popped the question, but I’ve found out all about it, -and now I can do it like a book. I guess I’ll go down -and see ’Lizy Blake before I forget how it’s done. If -she says “Yes” we’ll have a loaf of wedding-cake as -big as our new school-house. (<i>With sudden thought</i>) I -don’t know though, but I ought to write a valentine, -and send to her, first, to let her know I’m coming. -That’s the way Herbert did. But then, just as likely as -not, her aunt Lizy’d get it, thinking ’twas for her. -She’s cross-eyed, an’ wears false hair an’ store teeth, -an’ I couldn’t have her on my hands. No, I guess I’ll -go right down, an’ do my sparkin’ in good style, an’ -wind up by askin’ ’Lizy if <i>I</i> shan’t be her Valentine.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="MR_BLISS_VISION">MR. BLISS’ VISION.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Hiram Bliss</span>,</td> - <td>A Wealthy Bachelor.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Dick Wellington</span>,</td> - <td>His Nephew and Prospective Heir.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Marian Payne</span>,</td> - <td>A Widow.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Servant.</span></td> - <td></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mr. Bliss’</span> parlor. <span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> present, pacing -back and forth.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Bliss</span> (<i>soliloquizing</i>). Sixty years old to-day! -Well, well, how time passes! It seems but yesterday -since I was a lad, going to school, and making love to -the girls, instead of studying the lessons which Master -Winthrop gave out. It seems strange how persons -change as they grow older. Then, I was a favorite -with the girls, and always escorted one or more to every -party, husking, or apple-bee. Now, when called upon -to entertain a marriageable person of the other sex, I’m -thrown into a decided flutter. It’s ridiculous for one of -my age and experience, but still it is a lamentable fact. -There was Minnie Warren, a blue-eyed little fairy to -whom I got very much attached; in tact, we were engaged.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span> -I believe if she hadn’t left Cherryville as she -did, I should have finally married her. I was indignant -enough when I heard that her father had bought the -Union Mills, and the family were going to leave town. -She finally married, I heard, and made some man happy. -(<i>A pause.</i>) Well, some say every one has their share -of good and ill fortune; but the fact is, I believe that -some are fated to be happy, and some to be miserable -in this world.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dick</span> (<i>entering, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>). Hallo, uncle; have you got the -blues? What right have you to talk about being miserable—you, -who have everything that wealth can -procure to make you happy?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> I know I have everything comfortable here, -but the fact is, Dick, I’m lonely in this great house. -You, who pass most of your time in a store, with people -constantly coming and going, take pleasure in spending -a week or two in a quiet place, and among new scenes; -but there’s no novelty in it to me, who have lived -here for twenty years with no one in the house but -servants.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> It must be rather lonesome to live here all the -time (<i>glancing furtively at his companion</i>). I expect -you’ll be marrying one of these days, uncle.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> I might have done so once, but it’s too late -now. I’ve got settled down in my bachelor ways, and -cannot depart from them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> (<i>mischievously</i>). You may be forced to depart -from them, uncle.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>alarmed</i>). What do you mean, Dick?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> You remember the widow Payne, that we have -met several times lately?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>interested</i>). Yes. What of her?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> She has been heard to express a very favorable -opinion of you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> That amounts to nothing.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> But you know that this is leap year, when ladies -are privileged to propose.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>startled</i>). But you don’t think she would do -such a thing?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> (<i>solemnly</i>). It is impossible to say. She is a -widow, and you know the race of men has been warned, -by an astute observer of human nature, to beware of -that class of humanity. If she has any sympathy with -the “Woman’s Rights” movement, I’m afraid you’re -fated, uncle.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> I couldn’t stand that. But what shall I do, -Dick? Leave town?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> There wouldn’t be any use in that, unless you -staid away the remainder of the year.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>nervously</i>). I couldn’t do that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> Then be courageous and bear it like a man. -Of course you’d refuse the honor (<i>questioningly</i>)?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Of course I should. I wouldn’t accept -under any consideration.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> Then that’s all settled. But if you should get -into any kind of a scrape, just let me know, and I’ll -get you out of it—trust me, uncle.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B</span>. Well, I think I will. No doubt you know -more about those things than I do.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). I dare say I do.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>rising</i>). Well, I must go and take my -morning walk. Will you go too?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> (<i>rising</i>). Yes; where shall we go?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> We might as well go and call on the widow, -and take a survey of the situation, as I don’t mean to -be entrapped by any of her wiles.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> (<i>sharply scrutinizing <span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span>—aside</i>). I must -look out for this uncle of mine. He may himself propose -to the widow, instead of her proposing to him, -and that would be death to my prospects. I must look -out and not lose the property. (<i>Takes out a couple of -cigars, which he offers to his uncle.—Aloud.</i>) Have a -cigar, uncle?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span>—Thank you, I don’t care if I do. (<i>Takes -one.</i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>The same. Time, evening. <span class="smcap">Mr. Bliss</span> -sits alone, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, with his feet resting on the table, smoking -and reading the evening paper. A lady (<span class="smcap">Dick</span> disguised -as <span class="smcap">Mrs. Payne</span>) enters <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, wearing bonnet and -shawl, and closely veiled. <span class="smcap">Mr. Bliss</span> starts up in excitement -and offers his hand.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Good-evening, Mrs. Payne. I am very -happy to see you. (<i>Leads her to a seat.</i>) Lay aside -your bonnet and shawl, won’t you?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Payne.</span> No, I thank you. I cannot stop long. -I only came in to make a call.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> I am afraid this smoke is offensive to you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Oh, not at all. I enjoy the fragrance of a -good cigar.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> lays down his cigar.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> It is quite cool out, this evening.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Yes—no—that is, it may be—but I -haven’t been out this evening.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> I haven’t seen you at our house for several -days.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>nervously</i>). No—I—have been very busy -and couldn’t come, but have thought of you, and meant -to come.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> So you have thought of me. I am glad of -that. I have thought of you, also.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>startled</i>). Ah! Th—thank you, but—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> (<i>interrupting</i>). I dare say you couldn’t -guess my errand to-night.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>nervously</i>). Oh—no, of course not.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> I have long loved you, and have felt certain -that I was not disagreeable to you—and, knowing -your timidity, I have availed myself of the privileges -of Leap Year to come and offer myself to you. (<i>Rises -and throws her arms around his neck.</i>) Hiram, I love -you,—do you reciprocate my affection?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>almost overpowered, and looking around, -nervously</i>). I—I—must take time to think of it—it -is so sudden.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> It may be sudden—and yet why delay our -happiness? (<i>Her head droops on his shoulder.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> I—I need time to consider (<i>a sound of approaching -footsteps is heard</i>)—I—I must go—let me -go. I have an engagement at nine.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Then give your consent to our marriage.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>struggling frantically to free himself</i>). I -cannot—I—(<i>a sound is heard as of a person at the -door</i>). Let me go—let me go—(<i>in an imploring tone</i>) -quick—somebody’s coming.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Say yes, then, dearest Hiram.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>in an agony of fear</i>). Yes, yes—anything, -if you will only leave me. (<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> imprints an audible -kiss upon his forehead and turns to leave the room. Apparently -by mistake she grasps the bell-knob and pulls it -vigorously. She goes out by one door, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, as servant -enters by another, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Did you ring, sir?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Ring? N—no. I don’t wish for anything.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S.</span> That’s strange. The bell rang distinctly, and so -loud that I thought you was in a hurry.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Well, it’s of no consequence. I don’t need -anything.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Servant</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>pacing the room and soliloquizing</i>). What -have I done? Engaged myself to this widow, notwithstanding -all my resolutions to the contrary. But -something must be done about it. What shall it be? -I might leave town—but that would be cowardly.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span> -Besides, I shouldn’t want to shut up the house. I might -write, saying I had changed my mind; but I’m afraid -that wouldn’t be just the thing. (<i>Paces back and forth -a few moments without speaking.</i>) The fact is, I shall -be obliged to marry the widow. There seems to be no -other way left me, after giving my promise to her. But -I won’t say a word to Dick about it. (<i>A pause.</i>) After -all, I might do a worse thing. She would be a credit -to my establishment, and the presence of a woman -<i>would</i> brighten up the house. I guess I must go there -in the morning and talk the matter over.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Payne’s</span> sitting-room. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Payne</span> -present sewing, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> <span class="smcap">Mr. Bliss</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Good-morning, Mr. Bliss.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Good-morning, and a charming morning -it is. I came, Mrs. Payne, to speak further on the -matter we were talking of last evening.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Last evening? You mean a week ago.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> No, I mean last evening.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> But you were not here last evening.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>perplexed</i>). Certainly not; but you called -on me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> What do you mean, Mr. Bliss?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). I mean that you made a leap-year -call on me last evening, and offered me your heart and -hand, which I accepted.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> (<i>casting down her eyes</i>). I am sorry to dispute -you, but I had a severe headache last evening, and -did not leave the house.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>in a disappointed tone</i>). Is that so? But -certainly some one bearing your semblance called on -me last evening. (<i>A pause.</i>) It must have been one -of Dick’s harum-scarum tricks.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> No doubt it was. He is full of mischief.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Mrs. Payne—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). Well, Mr. Bliss.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>fidgeting nervously</i>). Couldn’t we make my -vision of last evening a reality?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Possibly we might, if you desired it very -much. But I’m afraid you haven’t counted the cost. -You have been a bachelor so long, that you might soon -tire of a wife, and consider her an intruder.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> I am satisfied it would not be so. Besides -it seems as if I had known you before; where can I -have met you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Why, don’t you remember? I knew you -at once—I was formerly Minnie Warren.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Then I claim you by right of an engagement -made between us forty-six years ago—when you -were twelve and I was fourteen. Have you forgotten -it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> Oh, no, I remember it perfectly well; and -how I cried when we left town because you could not -go too.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>drawing his chair nearer and placing his arm<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span> -around her</i>). There is a good deal of change in the -age and size of your lover as he was and as he is. -Are you not afraid of repenting if you should marry -him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. P.</span> (<i>archly</i>). Oh, no. It is a good trade to exchange -a little Payne for a greater bliss. I am satisfied -as far as I am concerned.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dick</span> (<i>entering, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>). Hallo! What’s all this? I’m -afraid I’m intruding. (<i>Looks anxiously at his companions.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> Not at all. Allow me to present you to -your future aunt.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dick</span> (<i>bowing low—aside</i>). There’s my inheritance -gone to the dogs, and by my own act. (<i>Aloud to -uncle.</i>) This is something new, isn’t it? How did it -all come about?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. B.</span> (<i>significantly</i>). I had a leap-year vision last -evening, and have concluded, this morning, to make it -a reality.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="HIGH_LIFE_BELOW_STAIRS">HIGH LIFE BELOW STAIRS.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>DRAMATIS PERSONÆ.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Miss Evelyn Montague</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>A lady of Wealth.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Katy Maguire</span>,</td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="6" class="valign">Her Servants.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Ann Flaherty</span>,</td> - <td>⎪</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Bridget Maglone</span>,</td> - <td>⎬</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mary Finnegan</span>,</td> - <td>⎪</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">James Dunn</span>,</td> - <td>⎪</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Pat. Garvey</span>,</td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Ellen Sweeny</span>,</td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="3" class="valign">Servants of Mrs. Bradley.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Julia Griffin</span>,</td> - <td>⎬</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Corny Reilly</span>,</td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Miss Evelyn’s</span> chamber. <span class="smcap">Katy Maguire</span>, -<span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, dressed in blue silk, standing before a mirror. She -is putting on a lace collar.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Katy.</span> It is my private opinion that this blue dress -is the purtiest of the lot, an’ as long as Miss Evelyn -won’t wear it, there’s no reason why Katy Maguire -shouldn’t. It won’t be long before it’ll be out of -fashion; an’ it might as well be doin’ a little good to -somebody, first.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span></p> - -<p>(<i>She takes out from jewel-case several sets of jewelry, -and fastens them in conspicuous places on the waist of the -dress. She puts all the bracelets she can find on her -wrists, and places around her neck a gold chain, and also -a string of cornelian beads. Taking a richly-embroidered -handkerchief in her hand, she gazes complacently at herself -in the mirror.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> There, Katy Maguire (<i>courtesying to the image -reflected</i>), you look like a lady born and bred. If your -mistress should see you now, she wouldn’t need to ask -if you was an experienced dressing-maid. There aint -many that shows such fine taste in dressin’, or has -enough jewelry to set off the dress with. What an -ilegant trail it has, sure! (<i>glancing complacently back at -the dress, and taking two or three steps forward to see the -effect. Enter <span class="smcap">Mary</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span> (<i>starting back in surprise</i>). Well, Katy, who -ever’d ha’ thought of this being you? What are you -rigged up in Miss Evelyn’s finery for?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> (<i>loftily</i>). I am Miss Maguire, now, and I expect -you’ll treat me like a lady, as I am. I shall give a reception -this evenin’ in the drawin’-room, an’ when you -go downstairs, you can invite Miss Flaherty, Miss -Maglone, an’ Mister Dunn to be present. An’ if Miss -Flaherty thinks best, she might send in to the next -house, an’ invite our friends there to come in.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> What do you suppose Miss Evelyn will say?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> (<i>sarcastically</i>). If you feel anxious to know ye -might ask her when she gets home. The entertainment’ll<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span> -be over before that time. But yer better be -goin’ down now to deliver the invitation, as it’s gitting -late (<i>walks along a few steps, swinging her dress</i>).</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> (<i>with a look of hatred which changes to a malicious -smile</i>) I’ll be after goin’, thin, Miss Maguire. (<i>With a -mocking bow she leaves the room, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> It’s aisy to see that Mary is jealous of my good -looks. But I pity the poor crathur, for she’s as homely -as a sick duck. I must go downstairs now. It’s most -time for James to be home from drivin’ Miss Evelyn to -the party. He’s a nice lad, an’ I’ll be much surprised -if he aint took wid my charms.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>Kitchen. <span class="smcap">Ann Flaherty</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, <span class="smcap">Bridget Maglone</span>, -<span class="allsmcap">R. C.</span>, <span class="smcap">James Dunn</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L. C.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Pat. Garvey</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, -present. Enter <span class="smcap">Mary</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">M.</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). Well, I never seen sich doin’s -before! (<i>All come forward expectantly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Bridget.</span> An’ what is it, Mary?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patrick</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). What’s the row upstairs? Anybody -kilt?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Katy’s been up to Miss Evelyn’s chamber an’ -rigged up in her clothes, an’ she says she’s goin’ to give -a grand party in the drawin’-room this avenin’, an’ -invites all to be prisint.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">James</span> (<i>rubbing his hands</i>). Ah! Katy’s a jew’l.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ann.</span> Av course we’ll all accept the invitation.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> She says if ye thought best, he might sind in to -the next house an’ invite the frinds there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Sure an’ we <i>do</i> think best. Pat., jist run over to -Mr. Bradley’s an’ ask the cook an’ all the rest to come -over here an’ pass the avenin’. We’re going to have a -grand party here. Tell ’em to come right away.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> I’ll bring ’em all in, in five minutes.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, -swinging his hat.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> An’ what d’ye think Miss Evelyn will say?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Arrah now, Miss Evelyn will niver know anything -about it. We’ll be all through with the party -before she comes home.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Indade an’ ye may trust Katy to get through’t -safely. She’s lived with the quality before now, an’ -knows how things is done. She’s shrewd, Katy is.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> That’s thrue for you. An’ how can Miss Evelyn -come home till I go after her? She tould me to have -the carriage there at half-past twelve o’clock, an’ it isn’t -ulleven yit.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> I’m thinkin’ we ought to have a trate before the -party is over.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Av coorse we must have some refrishments.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I ixpect you ladies can manage that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> We’ve got plinty o’ presarves and cake an’ wine. -But we’ll want some ice-crame.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I’ll furnish that same. I’ll sind Pat. for it whin -he comes back.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Thin we’ll go upstairs now.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> The rest of yez go, an’ I’ll lay the table all ready -for the trate. It won’t be long before I’ll be wid yez.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit all but <span class="smcap">Ann</span>. Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Miss Evelyn’s</span> drawing-room. <span class="smcap">Katy</span> -seated on sofa, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, with the skirts of her dress spread -out so as to make as great a display as possible. -Enter <span class="smcap">Ann</span>, <span class="smcap">Bridget</span>, <span class="smcap">Mary</span> and <span class="smcap">James</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> All but -<span class="smcap">Mary</span> make low bows to her. She acknowledges the -salutations by a slight inclination of her head.</i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">J.</span> This must be a very select party, when -Miss Maguire didn’t invite more persons to be prisint.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Sure we don’t know how many invitations -she has sint out. Fashionable people don’t come very -airly. We’ll have more byme-by. (<i>Bell rings.</i>) -They’re beginnin’ to arrive now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> Misther Dunn ye’ll oblige me by goin’ to the -door, if ye plaze.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">James</span> goes out, and soon returns <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, with <span class="smcap">Corny -Reilly</span>, <span class="smcap">Ellen Sweeny</span> and <span class="smcap">Julia Griffin</span>. He -conducts them to <span class="smcap">Katy</span>.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Miss Maguire, this is Miss Sweeny, Miss Griffin, -and Misther Reilly.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Corny</span> (<i>bowing with many flourishes</i>). My respects -to yez, Miss Maguire. (<i>The other two visitors bow, and -<span class="smcap">Katy</span> returns the salutations of all.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Miss Maguire, won’t ye favor us with a little -illegant music?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> It’s little enough of that kind ye’ll get.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> If ye’ll esquort me to the pianner, I’ll play pervidin’ -yez will all sing.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>who has just entered</i>). Av coorse we will.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> I aint a-goin’ to sing anyway.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> (<i>sarcastically</i>). Yer vice won’t be missed, Miss -Finnegan.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Allow me to lade yez to the pianner.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Katy</span> takes his arm and goes to the piano, <span class="allsmcap">L. C.</span>, where -she seats herself.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> (<i>turning around</i>). What can ye sing, ladies?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> You choose the song for us.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> Well, thin, it’s a midley I’ll play, an’ then ye can -sing what ye plaze.</p> - -<p>(<i>She commences drumming on the piano, and her companions, -grouped around her, sing, each one a different -piece, a short one. Enter <span class="smcap">Pat.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, who dances round the -stage till the close of the singing.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> (<i>going to <span class="smcap">Katy</span> and speaking in a low tone, but -loud enough for all to hear</i>). Say, Katy, I’ve been -down-town, an’ got some ice-crame. It’s downstairs -now. We’re going to have a big trate byme-by.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> (<i>smiling graciously</i>). Is that so, Pat.?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> Yis, an’ the things on the table looked so -timptin’ that I stopped an’ refreshed mesilf wid a little -cake an’ wine. (<i>Begins to sing some Irish air.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Look here, Pat.; what did ye meddle with that -wine for? Ye spalpeen, I b’lave ye’re dhrunk.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> (<i>slyly</i>). Sure, that’s where ye’re wrong, Misther -Dunn. I jist took a wee dthrop to keep my sperits up. -(<i>Begins to dance.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> It’s more like ye’ve put all the sperits down yer -throat, yer thafe of the world!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> Owin’ to my partic’lar good nature, I shan’t -notice that little insinivation o’ yours. But say, now, -let’s have a dance. If you aint goin’ ter play, Katy, -jest be my partner, will yer?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Miss Maguire’s engaged ter me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> Yis, I’m engaged to Misther Dunn.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> Whew! That’s the way the wind blows, thin. -Well <i>dunn</i>, Jimmy! (<i>All laugh.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>pushing <span class="smcap">Pat.</span></i>). Jist be a little more respectful to -your betters, ye blackguard! (<i>Turning to <span class="smcap">Katy</span> -politely</i>) Will you allow me, Miss Maguire? (<i>Offers his -arm, which <span class="smcap">Katy</span> takes, and they take their places for the -dance.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> Say now, who’s goin’ to fiddle for us? Or is we -goin’ ter dance widout any music?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Miss Sweeny plays on the pianner at our house.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> Then perhaps Miss Sweeny will do us the -favor ter play for us.</p> - -<p>(<i>In imitation of <span class="smcap">James’</span> example, <span class="smcap">Pat.</span> immediately -rushes up to <span class="smcap">Ellen</span>, saying with many flourishes:</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> Allow me, Miss Sweeny. (<i>She takes his arm -and goes to piano and seats herself.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Pat.</span> goes to <span class="smcap">Mary</span>, and offers his arm for the dance, -but she turns disdainfully from him, and goes out with a -lofty air. <span class="smcap">Pat.</span> then goes to <span class="smcap">Julia</span>, who accepts him as a -partner. <span class="smcap">Corney</span>, at the same time, takes <span class="smcap">Bridget</span> and -<span class="smcap">Ann</span> (one on either arm), and all have taken their places.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span> -At the sound of the piano, they break into an Irish jig of -the wildest sort. <span class="smcap">Pat.</span> cuts up the maddest capers. A -bell rings outside, but in the uproar it is unheard by the -dancers. A moment later, <span class="smcap">Miss Evelyn</span> appears at the -door, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> She stands for a moment, dumfounded at the -scene before her. At first she is not seen by any of the -company, but <span class="smcap">Ellen</span>, happening to look up, beholds her -and clasps her hands in alarm. The dancers, not hearing -the sound of the piano, look toward it to discover the -cause. They observe the dismay pictured in <span class="smcap">Ellen’s</span> -face, and, following the direction of her eyes, they behold -<span class="smcap">Miss Evelyn.</span> They stand with startled faces.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss Evelyn</span> (<i>sternly</i>). What does all this mean?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> (<i>triumphantly</i>). It’s all Katy’s doin’s, miss.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> (<i>Darting a withering glance at the speaker, and -then turning to <span class="smcap">Miss E.</span></i>). We were only indulgin’ in a -little innocent amusement, ma’am. I hope you’re not -offended.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss E.</span> But who gave you leave to deck yourself -in this manner?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">K.</span> Sure I was only airin’ the dress, ma’am, as it -had hung so long in the closet.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss E.</span> Well, I don’t approve of any such airs. -Leave the room, every one of you! The idea of my -drawing-room being the scene of a servants’ party! -You will all receive your discharge to-morrow morning.</p> - -<p>(<i>The servants leave the room, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, looking crestfallen -enough—all but <span class="smcap">Katy</span>, who sweeps out of the room with -a lofty air, determined to keep up her character to the -last.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> (<i>aside to <span class="smcap">Ann</span>, who goes out last</i>). An’ aint -we goin’ to have our trate then?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>aside</i>). Whist! Yis. Say nothin’. We’re -goin’ to have it right away. Miss Evelyn never comes -down below at this time o’ night.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Miss E.</span> (<i>seating herself <span class="allsmcap">C.</span> in disgust</i>). Was there ever -any annoyance equal to that of keeping servants? -Mine are a constant source of trouble. I have -threatened to discharge them all to-morrow morning. -But what shall I gain by it? I shall have another set -who will perhaps try my patience even more than these -have done. Servants understand their importance, and -realize their power over their employers. It is becoming -a species of tyranny. If I could only do without -them I most assuredly would do so. (<i>A shout of -laughter is heard in the distance. <span class="smcap">Miss E.</span> stands up.</i>) -What! haven’t they done yet? Probably they are gormandizing, -downstairs, at my expense. (<i>To the audience—a -little sarcastically:</i>) I have heard some persons -wish for wealth, so that they could afford to keep -servants to wait on them. They do not realize the -emptiness of their desires. A person who has few -wants, and can minister to them himself, is more independent -than the wealthiest person living. Those who -keep a multitude of servants are dependent on <i>their -whims</i>, and should not be surprised at frequent outbursts -of High Life Below Stairs.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="BOARDING_ON_A_FARM">BOARDING ON A FARM.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Montgomery</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>A Lady who is seeking Country Board.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Montgomery</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>her Husband.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Florence Malvina</span>,</td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="2" class="valign">Their Children.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">George Alexander</span>,</td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jones</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>A Farmer’s Wife.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Jonathan</span>,</td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="2" class="valign">Servants.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Patty</span>,</td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i>Parlor. <span class="smcap">Mr. Montgomery</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, reading -paper. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Montgomery</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, sewing.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Montgomery.</span> Mr. Montgomery.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Montgomery.</span> Well, my dear.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> We must go into the country this summer.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> Is it absolutely essential to your happiness?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>with suppressed eagerness</i>). Of course I -should enjoy it very much. But I wasn’t thinking of -myself. The children need it far more than I do. They -are both quite feeble and need fresh air and country -living.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> I hadn’t noticed that the children were not -as well as usual.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> No, I dare say not. Men never notice -such things. But they are both ailing; and if I didn’t -doctor them all the time, they’d be down sick.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> We can’t afford to pay the extravagant -prices charged for country board.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> I don’t expect to go to a fashionable place. -But we might get boarded, at a low rate, at some farm-house -where we could get fresh fruits and vegetables, -and those things which can only be found in the country. -I’m sure it’s better to pay one’s money for such things -than to spend it for medicine.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> The sea-breeze is better than the country -air. You might take a trip with the children to Hingham -or Nahant once or twice a week.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>slightly ruffled</i>). How foolishly you talk! -But then it’s what I might expect. These short trips -always fatigue people more than they benefit them. -When it’s too late to help the children, perhaps you’ll -think of my advice and wish you’d followed it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> If it’s as serious a matter as you suppose, -and this is the only remedy, I should say go, by all -means.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> You must judge for yourself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> But I don’t believe it is possible to find -such a place as would suit you at a reasonable price.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). I found an advertisement in -last week’s paper describing a place that I thought<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span> -would be just such us we would like. Here it is. -(<i>Takes paper from table—reads.</i>)</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Country Boarding.</span>—Those who are leaving behind -them the noise and dust of the city, and wish to refresh -themselves by a communion with nature, will find a desirable -summer retreat at Honeysuckle Villa, in the -beautiful town of Hillsdale. It is within five minutes’ -walk of the railroad, in the midst of a country rich in -vegetation, and smiling under the liberal eye of a -bountiful Providence. A beautiful lake, at the distance -of a quarter of a mile, presents strong attractions for -the angler, while a boat which has recently been placed -upon it will enable the visitor to enjoy the luxury of a -sail. No pains will be spared to render this a delightful -retreat for the denizens of the metropolis.</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Eliphalet Jones.</span>”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> That sounds well enough. But what proof -have you that things are as represented?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> I wrote to Mr. Jones, and received a very -gentlemanly reply. As he says, the terms are quite -moderate. Mrs. Livingston pays nearly twice as -much.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> What are the terms?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> Thirty dollars per week for you, myself, -and the two children.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> But are there trains at hours to accommodate -me?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> Yes, I took pains to ascertain that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> Very well, then, make whatever arrangements -you choose. We can but give it a trial.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>triumphantly</i>). That’s one point gained. -The next thing is to make preparations for our journey. -I was determined not to be cooped up in the city another -summer, when all our acquaintances are boarding in -the country.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>Country railway station. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Montgomery</span>, -<span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, and two children, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, sitting with outer -garments on. Two trunks, a bandbox and travelling-bag -on the floor. Enter <span class="smcap">Jonathan Hodge</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, wearing -a coarse frock and carrying a whip.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jonathan</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span></i>). Be yeaou the folks what’s -going to the Joneses?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> Yes, we wish to go to Mr. Jones’, at -Honeysuckle Villa.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Honeysuckle Villa. Wal, that’s a good un. Ha, -ha, ha!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>aside</i>). Is it possible that they have deceived -me? But I shall soon learn. (<i>Aloud.</i>) Is the -carriage ready?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>laughing</i>). Ya—as, the kerridge is waitin’. -You can see it from the door (<i>nods toward door, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>looks out with some curiosity</i>). I don’t -see any carriage. There’s nothing but a farm wagon -in sight.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> That’s the kerridge that’s come for ye, anyway. -Mr. Jones thought mebbe you’d hev a lot of baggage, -so he sent the hay-riggin’.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> But there are no seats.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Yes, there’s a board to put across, after we get -loaded up.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>indignantly</i>). And we are expected to ride -in such a vehicle as that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> There aint no use in callin’ it names. It’s easy -enough ridin’ in it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> But we cannot all sit on one seat.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> The children can set on the trunks. (<i>Takes up -one of the trunks to carry it out. Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">George.</span> Say, mother, have we got to ride in that -old, ricketty wagon? It’ll jolt like everything, I know -’twill.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>in a soothing tone</i>). We’ve only got to ride -a few steps.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>entering</i>). Don’t know ’bout that. I reckon it’s -a good mile down there, and the roads aint none of the -best.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>indignantly</i>). Mr. Jones’ advertisement -stated that his house was only five minutes’ walk from -the station.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Mr. Jones got the schoolmaster to write that -notice for the paper. He came up to the house one -night and did it. Jones told him to put it in pretty -strong. The marster read it out ’loud after he’d writ it, -an’ I declair to goodness, I shouldn’t ha’ knowed ’twas -the same place we lived in.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>decidedly</i>). Well, if I don’t like the place, -we shan’t stay, that’s all.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>smiling incredulously</i>). Oh, mebbe you’ll like it, -after all. Folks need a change sometimes. (<i>Takes out -another trunk, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Florence.</span> Mother, I’m thirsty.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> There isn’t anything to drink here. We’ll -soon get to Mr. Jones’.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Flor.</span> (<i>impatiently</i>). I want something to drink -now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> Wait patiently a little longer, and then you -can have a drink of nice, fresh milk. (<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Jonathan</span>.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>aside</i>). I shouldn’t be a mite surprised if they -was disapp’inted in their expectations. I guess they -won’t find many delicacies at Joneses. Leastways, I -never did. (<i>Aloud</i>) Kerridge is ready, folks. (<i>Takes -bandbox and bag and goes out <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, <span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> and children -follow.</i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i>Dining-room at country farm-house. Table -is set for dinner. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Jones</span> brings in pie, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Jones</span> (<i>turning as she enters, and addressing -<span class="smcap">Patty</span> in next room</i>). Dish up the beans, Patty, and -be spry now. (<i>Places pie on table and goes out, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> -<span class="smcap">Florence</span> enters <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and sits down.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> enters with potatoes, and <span class="smcap">Patty</span> with a dish -of baked beans, both of which are placed on table. <span class="smcap">Patty</span> -goes out, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> (<i>addressing <span class="smcap">Florence</span></i>). Go and tell your -mother dinner’s ready, child.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Flor.</span> (<i>bridling</i>). My name’s Florence Malvina -Montgomery.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> (<i>glancing over the table to see if everything -needful is upon it</i>). Yes, I know it. Go and tell -your mother dinner is ready.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Florence</span> goes out <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and soon returns with her -mother and brother.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Dinner’s ready, Mrs. Montgomery. Take -that chair if you’re a mind to (<i>indicating it</i>), and the -children can set, one on each side of you. (<i>They sit.</i>) -Will you have some baked beans, ma’am?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> Thank you, no, I never eat them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Don’t eat beans! Why, they’re the wholesomest -victuals there is. I’m sure I don’t know what -I can give you to eat, then. I haint got nothin’ else -but some cold corned beef, and was savin’ that for dinner -to-morrer.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> I might, perhaps, eat a little of the cold -meat.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> (<i>in a loud voice</i>). Patty, bring in the cold -beef that was left yesterday.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Patty</span> (<i>outside</i>). Yes’m. (<i>Brings in meat <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, then -exit.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> Haven’t you any new potatoes yet?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Yes, but we thought, as we had these left, -we’d use ’em up first.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> But these are watery, and not fit to eat.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Oh, they aint bad for the time o’ year. Mr. -Jones carried the new potatoes to market this morning. -They bring a good price now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> Well, I’m sure I cannot eat these. You -may give me a piece of pie, if you please.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Geo.</span> Mother, I can’t cut the pie-crust.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> I’ll cut it for you. (<i>Tries to cut it, but it -is so tough the knife slips and falls to the floor.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Let me cut it. (<i>She, with some effort, cuts -it and returns it to <span class="smcap">George</span>.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> Haven’t you any strawberries?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Yes, we’re goin’ to have some on the table -Sunday. We send them to market every day, the first -of the season, they bring such a good price.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>sarcastically</i>). I suppose you sell your -cream too.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Yes, we find we can make more money -that way than by makin’ butter and cheese. So we buy -our butter at the store.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>indignantly</i>). We came to the country -expecting to get fresh fruit and vegetables. But it -seems we are more likely to find them in the city. I -am half inclined to go directly back; however, I will -perhaps remain one week. It depends on how we are -treated whether we stop any longer.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit with children, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. J.</span> Lor’ now, what airs these city people do -put on! Seems to me there’s no end to their whims and -wants. They don’t have the least thought about economy.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span> -(<i>In a loud voice</i>) Patty, you and Jonathan come -to dinner.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> (<i>outside, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>). Comin’, ma’am.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span>—<i>Sitting-room. <span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> present, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> I can’t stand boarding here much longer, -that’s a fixed fact. Mrs. Jones sets a most wretched -table, and the children are really growing thinner every -day. If it hadn’t been for the name of it I should have -left Hillsdale before this. The reputation of going to -the country for the summer is hardly sufficient to pay -for living in small rooms, sleeping on stifling feather-beds, -and enduring such execrable cookery, and not a -book but the Farmer’s Almanac to be found in the -house.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Florence</span> runs in <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, with a terrified expression of -countenance. Her hat is hanging down from her neck, -and her hair flying in all directions.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Flor.</span> Oh! oh! I’m so scared. (<i>Runs to her -mother.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> Why, Florence Malvina, what a fright you -make of yourself! Pray what is the matter?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Flor.</span> I guess you’d be frightened if you’d been -where I was. I just went outside of the road to find -some blackberries, when I thought I heard somebody -coming. I looked round, and there was a great ugly-looking -cow running after me. I ran as fast us I could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span> -till I couldn’t go any further, and then I crept -underneath the bars, and came up through the field.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> It’s a shame for people to allow their cows -to run around the streets in such a way. It’s lucky that -you were not killed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Flor.</span> The cow would have taken me up on -her horns if she had caught me, I know she would. -She held her head down all ready to do it. (<i>Enter -<span class="smcap">George</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, covered with mud and water</i>). Why -George, did you almost get drowned? Just look, -mother. George is just as wet as he can be. (<i><span class="smcap">George</span> -looks askance at his mother, but says nothing.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>severely</i>). Well, George Alexander, this -is a pretty plight for you to be in. What have you -been doing now?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Geo.</span> (<i>defiantly</i>). I wasn’t doing anything, only -building a dam down by the spring, and pretty soon -some boys came along, and they laughed at me, and -said they bet I couldn’t jump the ditch there. So I -meant to show them I could, and I did do it too; but -the ground was all soft and wet the other side, and -when I tried to jump back again I fell into the ditch.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> What boys were they?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Geo.</span> The Dunn boys. They knew it was wet the -other side, and when I fell in, you ought to have heard -them laugh.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> They are nothing but ill-bred country -blockheads. (<i>To <span class="smcap">George</span>.</i>) But don’t stand there any -longer with those wet clothes on. Go and change them -at once.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">George</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> <span class="smcap">Florence</span> follows him.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>sola</i>). What a wretched place this is! If -I was obliged to live in such a way at home, I shouldn’t -think I could bear it. The family here haven’t even -<i>decent</i> accommodations for keeping boarders.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Enter -<span class="smcap">Florence</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, in state of great excitement.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Flor.</span> O mother, two men are coming, and they are -bringing father in. I’m afraid he’s killed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> (<i>starting up</i>). What do you mean, child? -(<i>Enter men, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, bearing <span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> <span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> clasps her -hands in anxious suspense; goes up to her husband.</i>) -What is the matter, Henry? Has there been an -accident? (<i>The men place <span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> on sofa and exit <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> It isn’t quite as bad as it seems. I was a -little tired and thought I’d ride up from the village to-night, -instead of walking. But the stage broke down, -and I was thrown out. I was a good deal bruised, but -I believe there are no bones broken. Dr. Bryant examined -me, and said I would be all right in a few -days.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> Well, as soon as you are able to leave, -I’m going back to the city. I can’t stay here any -longer.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). You don’t mean that you are -willing to go back to the city, and endure all its discomforts -again.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> I’ve come to the conclusion that there are -as many annoyances in the country as in the city.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> But you forget that the children cannot have -country fare after our return.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. M.</span> No, I do not. I find that the country fare -we sought is all sent to the city, and we must return -there in order to enjoy it. After two weeks’ trial of -living in the country, I am thoroughly tired of it, and -I think a long time will elapse before I again wish to -try the experiment of Boarding on a Farm.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="TAMING_A_WIFE">TAMING A WIFE.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Grover</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>a Merchant.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Grover</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>his Wife.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Ross</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>Mrs. G.’s Mother.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Bridget</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>their Servant.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Farwell</span>,</td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="2" class="valign">Mr. G.’s Friends.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Huntly</span>,</td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i>A room at <span class="smcap">Miss Dane’s</span> boarding-house. -<span class="smcap">Mr. Farwell</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, half reclining on the sofa. <span class="smcap">Mr. -Grover</span>, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, sitting in a chair, with his feet on the -table. Both smoking.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Farwell.</span> Why don’t you get married, Grover? -I suppose you intend, at some time, to take to yourself -a wife.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Grover.</span> I might if I could find a woman to -suit me. But I don’t want any of the vain and -frivolous creatures we constantly meet in society.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> They are not all of this description. Now, -there’s Gertrude Hobbs. She is a pretty girl.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> And when you’ve said that, you’ve said all -there is to say.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> I’m sure she is pleasant and agreeable.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> And weak-minded.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> Ah! I see, you would like a girl of spirit. -Then, why not take Kate Ross? The only objection -to her is, that she has an imperious temper. I should -not care to cross her if I were her husband.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>contemptuously</i>). Pooh! that is your -spirit, is it? For my part, there would be no pleasure -in subduing a tame, spiritless creature; but, if somewhat -mettlesome, there would be some excitement in it. -I am half tempted to offer my hand to Kate Ross, to -show you what a simple affair it would be to tame a -spirited woman.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> I hope you <i>will</i> do so, as I shall not change -my opinion till it is practically refuted. And I will -wager a hundred dollars that you will talk in quite a -different way after marrying her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> You will probably lose your money. When -I undertake anything, I usually bring it to a successful -termination.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). I am willing to take the risk. -Theory is very well in its way, but it is practice that -tells the story. I confess I have some curiosity to see -how the matter ends.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> Well, you will probably have that satisfaction -within six months, as Kate Ross will, without -doubt, be Mrs. Grover before that time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> You seem quite confident. Have you proposed -to Miss Ross?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> No; but she would not think of refusing -my offer. An opportunity of gaining such a position -is seldom presented to a poor girl.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> Very well. If you do not talk in quite a -different way after marrying Kate Ross, the money is -yours.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Grover’s</span> kitchen. Time—one -month after marriage. <span class="smcap">Bridget</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, washing dishes. -<span class="smcap">Mr. Grover</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> Bridget, I find that for two days past -dinner has been served before I came home. Hereafter, -you must wait till I return before doing so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Bridget.</span> But it was kept warm for ye’s. An’ the -misthress told me to do it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> I know that; but you are bound to obey me -rather than her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>bewildered</i>). Sir?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> To-day I shall not be at home till four -o’clock. Four, remember. On no account must you -serve up dinner before that time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>astonished</i>). But what shall I say to misthress -when she tells me?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> Say? You must tell her that I threatened -to dismiss you if you did so. Will you remember?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>confusedly</i>). I’ll try.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>going toward door with satisfied smile</i>). -There, I think that will set matters right. I would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span> -give something to see how Mrs. Grover will take it, -when Bridget, by my direction, refuses to obey her. -She will begin to find out whom she has to deal with -then.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Grover</span> (<i>enters by another door, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, in season to -hear her husband’s last words</i>). Has Mr. Grover forbidden -you to follow my directions, Bridget?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Yes, mum. He told me he shouldn’t be at home -until four, and he should send me away if I took up -dinner before that time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>coolly</i>). Indeed! he is interfering beyond -his province. However, you are to obey me, not him. -Be sure to have dinner on the table at two o’clock -precisely.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> But he will send me away if I do.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> And I will send you away if you don’t.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>in ludicrous dismay</i>). Och, what will I do? -It’s turned away I’ve got to be whether I do it or -not.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Better obey me, Bridget. If he should -turn you away, you shall be back again in less than a -week, and, meanwhile, I will pay you wages; but, if I -turn you away, it will be for good.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Faix, mum, you’re a jewel. An’ if dinner isn’t -on the table at two o’clock precisely, then my name -isn’t Bridget McDermott.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span></p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Grover</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Mrs. Ross</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, who -is visiting her daughter, are seated in the dining-room. -The table is spread, but there is no food on it. <span class="smcap">Mr. -Grover</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>triumphantly</i>). You may order up dinner -now, Mrs. Grover.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). Dinner! Is it possible that -you have not eaten dinner at four o’clock?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>in an appalling voice</i>). Have you eaten -dinner?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>coolly continuing her sewing</i>). Certainly. -The table was cleared an hour ago. Bridget kept the -meat at the fire, but I was sure you had dined down -town. Shall I ring for it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>frowning</i>). No. May I inquire if Bridget -served up the dinner?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Of course you may. I have no objection.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>in a loud voice</i>). Madam, enough of this -trifling. Did Bridget serve up dinner?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Ross</span> (<i>expostulating</i>). Really, Kate and Mr. -Grover, you should not disagree.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>interrupting her</i>). Goodness! Mr. Grover, -I could hear distinctly enough if you spoke a great deal -lower. Of course, Bridget served up dinner. You -don’t suppose I did it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> At two o’clock?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Certainly.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>rings bell violently. <span class="smcap">Bridget</span> appears, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>).<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span> -Bridget, do you recollect my telling you this morning I -should not be home till four?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Yes, sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> And that dinner was not to be served up -till that time?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Yes, sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> Then, why did you dare to do otherwise?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>undaunted</i>). The misthress tould me to.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> Then I wish you to understand that I am -the master, and my orders are to be obeyed. I dismiss -you from my service.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>courtesying</i>). Yes, sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>angrily</i>). This instant. Do you hear?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>courtesying again</i>). Yes, sir. My clothes are -all packed. (<i>Turning to <span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span></i>) Good-by, mum.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>unconcernedly</i>). Oh, good-by, Bridget. -So you are going, are you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Yes, mum.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Perhaps you would like a recommendation.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> I shall give none.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Because, if you would, I will give you one -very willingly.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> No, mum; I don’t think I shall live out ag’in just -yet. I’m goin’ to stop wid my sister a while.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Very well, Bridget; (<i>in a significant tone</i>) -you must call again soon.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Bridget</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>A pause in which <span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> seats himself, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, leaning -back exultantly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>as if unconscious of what had passed</i>). Is -there any news from abroad?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>crustily</i>). No.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> What course is Germany expected to take?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>in a forbidding tone</i>). I don’t know.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> rises and folds up her work. <span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> thinks, -with a thrill of gratification, that, in the absence of <span class="smcap">Bridget</span>, -<span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> will be obliged to get supper.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>having reached the door, turns back</i>). By -the way, Mr. Grover, my mother and myself are going -out to tea. We are invited to Mrs. Haven’s.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>startled</i>). But what am I to do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>carelessly</i>). I don’t know, really, unless -you come up with us. I presume Mrs. Haven will be -very much pleased to see you. Will you come?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>sharply</i>). No. (<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> opens the door, -preparatory to going out.</i>) Mrs. Grover, I have invited -two gentlemen to dine with me to-morrow, and it will -be your duty to prepare dinner for them. You will -receive articles from the market by nine o’clock. You -understand me, do you not?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Perfectly.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> And know what I expect?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Certainly.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> And you understand also, that I am a man -of my word.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> I am very happy to hear it. I have always -considered it a very desirable quality.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Mrs. Grover</span> and her mother, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>complacently soliloquizes</i>). I think that will -settle the matter. If Mrs. Grover married me with the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span> -idea of being a fine lady, and having an easy time, she -is quite mistaken. I don’t intend to encourage female -insubordination. I believe the man was made to govern, -the wife to obey. If more husbands had my firmness, -things would go on a little better in the world. -But it isn’t everybody that has my tact at governing.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span>—<i>Dining-room at <span class="smcap">Mr. Grover’s</span>. The table -is laid for four persons. <span class="smcap">Mr. Farwell</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, <span class="smcap">Mr. -Huntly</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Mr. Grover</span>, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, present.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Huntly.</span> Have you heard how Brown’s wife has -treated him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> Not a word.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. H.</span> She has deserted him, and gone, no one -knows whither. After dinner yesterday, Brown went -to his room a moment, leaving his pocket-book on the -table. When he returned, his wife, and his pocket-book—containing -several hundred dollars—were gone. -And although a thorough search has been instituted, no -tidings have been had of either.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> It seems to me that a woman who would do -such a thing has not been properly trained by her -husband.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> In my opinion, there are some women of -such a nature that they will not brook subjection even -from their husbands; or, in fact, subordination of any -kind.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>firmly</i>). I would like to see any woman -whom I could not bring under subjection. I cannot -conceive of a man surrendering the authority, which is -his natural right, into the hands of a woman.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. H.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). Do you intend, Grover, to carry -out your theory of domestic government under your -present circumstances?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> I certainly do not mean to submit to petticoat -government. In my eyes the husband should be -at the head of the household, and, while I occupy that -position, I shall delegate my authority to no one. (<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. -Grover</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>) My dear, allow me to present to -you, my friends, Mr. Farwell and Mr. Huntly.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> I am happy to see you, gentlemen. As -friends of my husband, I am glad to make your acquaintance.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>turning to his wife</i>). Is dinner ready?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>promptly</i>). It is on the table.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>with a smile of exultation</i>). Sit down, gentlemen. -Mr. Huntly will take a seat on my right (<i>indicating -it</i>), and Mr. Farwell on my left (<i>indicating it</i>). -I have provided a dinner to-day, gentlemen (<i>sharpening -the knife preparatory to carving</i>), which is an especial -favorite with me—I mean roast turkey. (<i>Lifting the -cover, his astonished gaze rested on an uncooked turkey. -He lifts, successively, the covers of the other dishes, and -sees uncooked squashes, and potatoes with their skins on.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>sternly to his wife</i>). Will you explain the -meaning of this, madam?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>smiling blandly</i>). Certainly. Bridget left -me yesterday afternoon, by your direction. I have done -what I could toward supplying her place. I am truly -sorry if the dinner is not to your taste.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> What do you intend by this insult which -you have put upon me in my own house?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>fanning herself</i>). You are a little excited, -Mr. Grover. You remember that I warned you I should -not supply Bridget’s place.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>angrily</i>). So it seems you want to rule me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Not at all. I only object to being ruled.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> It’s the same thing, madam. You would -like to have me become a miserable, hen-pecked husband. -But that will never happen. (<i>Turning to -guests</i>) Gentlemen, I regret that circumstances have -conspired to render useless the invitation I gave you to -dine with me. I cannot, in such case, invite you to stay -longer, but shall renew the invitation at a more convenient -opportunity.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>turning toward them</i>). I, too, shall be glad -to see you, gentlemen, and hope, on the next occasion, -to offer you a more attractive collation. That, however, -depends entirely on whether my husband decides to -leave the management of the household where it belongs—in -my hands.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Messrs. Farwell</span> and <span class="smcap">Huntly</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>angrily</i>). Well, madam, I hope you are -satisfied with this disgraceful exhibition.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>quietly</i>). I am not responsible for it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> You have disgraced me before my guests.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Then why did you interfere with Bridget?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> I am the head of the household.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> I beg your pardon. I imagined that Bridget -was under my orders.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> You are right, as long as your orders do not -conflict with mine.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Very well, sir, I leave you, then, to the -sole management of the household. (<i>Moves to go out.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> Where are you going?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Home to my mother.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>alarmed</i>). Would you desert your husband?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Yes, until he knows his place. (<i>Opens the -door, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> But—what will the world say? Don’t go, -Kate!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>turning</i>). I will stay on one condition, and -on one only.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> What is it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> That you will never, again, interfere in -the affairs of the household, and will agree to my recalling -Bridget, at once.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. G.</span> (<i>rather sheepishly</i>). Very well, anything for -peace.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>sola</i>). There, sir, I have taught you a lesson. -I understand you proposed to tame me. My -impression is, that it is the husband that has been tamed. -There is truth in the old couplet:—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“When a woman says she will, she will, depend on’t,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And when she won’t, she won’t, and there’s an end on’t.”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="JOHN_SMITHS_TRIALS">JOHN SMITH’S TRIALS.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Smith.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Smith.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Sheriff Bailey.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Bridget.</span></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i>In the parlor. <span class="smcap">Mr. Smith</span> reclining on the -sofa. He has a newspaper in his hand, but is not -reading. <span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> enters <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, wearing a plain dress.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Smith.</span> Seems to me, Amanda, that for one who -runs up such a bill as I paid yesterday, you don’t -appear remarkably well dressed. What have you done -with all the gay garments Madame Dubois has lately -made for you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Smith.</span> I haven’t run up any bill, and I don’t -patronize Madame Dubois. She is too high in her -charges for people in our circumstances.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> But why should she send her bill here? It -was directed in full, to John Smith, Taylor’s Block, -Central Street.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I’m sure I don’t know. All I can say is, -there must be some mistake. She never made any garments<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span> -whatever for me. By the way, have you the bill -with you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Yes, here it is. (<i>Takes bill from his pocket, -unfolds it, and shows it to his wife.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> What is the amount?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> One hundred and twenty-five dollars and -forty-seven cents.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). And you paid it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Certainly; I supposed it was all right.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Well, I don’t know what can be done -about it. I never had any of the articles mentioned.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Do you suppose there is another person of -the same name on this street?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Yes, Bridget told me, last evening, there -were three other John Smiths on this street, two of -whom live in this block.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Then there’ll be no end of mistakes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> None as serious as this, I hope.</p> - -<p>(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Bridget</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, bearing a letter, which she passes -to <span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Bridget.</span> An’ here’s a letther the postman brought, -sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>examines superscription, which he reads -aloud</i>). “Mr. John Smith, Taylor’s Block, Central -Street, B——.”</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Bridget</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Where is it from?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> It is postmarked Ramsey, Minnesota.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Have you acquaintances there?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> It seems so, though I wasn’t aware of it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Do open the letter. I’m really curious to -know whom it is from.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Ah, yes, woman’s curiosity! How do you -know but it may be privacy?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I am satisfied that it is not. At all -events, I’m willing to run the risk.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Courageous woman! Then I will venture -to open it. (<i>Cuts off edge of envelope and draws out -a small, square piece of paper which he begins to read -aloud.</i>)</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“You thief, you! You villain, you! So you’ve -basely gone off and taken my best dress and bonnet, -and all the silver my father gave me when I was -married! I suppose you intended to adorn your wife -with the clothes you stole! But you shan’t do it, as -sure as my name is Dorothy Ann. I’ve got track of you, -and just as quick as I can get money enough, I’m coming -right along after you. You’re a mean, shiftless, lazy, -good-for-nothing villain, and if you don’t send all back -within a week, I’ll send the police after you.”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>turns towards his wife, smiling</i>). There’s -quite an inducement for John Smith. What do you -think of that for a character? I’d better not have read -the letter aloud. Perhaps you will begin to repent -having married me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I ought to, certainly, if this letter is true. -But you haven’t given me the dress and bonnet yet.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> No, I never thought of it. I wonder if it -was the wife of this John Smith whose bill I paid.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Don’t know. I think it’s doubtful if you -ever find the one to whom it rightfully belongs.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> I must try, at all events. I don’t feel like -losing so much money, or paying other people’s dressmaker’s -bills.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> is seated, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, sewing. <span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> -enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> What vile odor is that I smell? What have -you for dinner, Amanda?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>complacently</i>). What you sent, of course.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> And that is—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Corned beef and cabbage.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> I knew it. I thought I could not be -deceived. Such a villanous smell!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). Of course you knew it. Did -you not send it to me this morning?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>excited</i>). Never! I sent you a pair of the -plumpest wild-fowl to be found in the market. My -mouth fairly watered for a taste of them as I entered -the door, when I was saluted by the scent of that -odious cabbage.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> What do you suppose has become of them?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>indignantly</i>). Some other John Smith is -doubtless regaling himself on them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Wouldn’t it be a good plan to send Bridget -to see?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Yes, and let her go at once.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>soliloquizing</i>). Some one asks, “What’s -in a name?” If his name happened to be John Smith, -he wouldn’t have to inquire. Why couldn’t my parents -have called me Hezekiah, Ezekiel, or any other heathenish -name rather than plain John? Then I should -not have been victimized in this way.</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, followed by a stranger.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> This gentleman wishes to see you, John.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Stranger</span> (<i>inquiringly</i>). Your name is Smith, sir? -(<i><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> nods.</i>) <i>John</i> Smith, I believe.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> That is my name, though I wish to goodness -it wasn’t.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Str.</span> No wonder, sir, no wonder. When I call on -professional business, people almost always wish they -were somebody else.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> And what is your business, if I may be -allowed to inquire?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Str.</span> Certainly you may, though there’s no doubt -you’d soon learn it without inquiring. I am Sheriff -Bailey, and I came to levy an execution on your furniture.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> And what is that for?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Str.</span> Because it is not paid for. Messrs. Phillips -& Hoffman sold you, some time since, a quantity of -furniture amounting to two hundred and fifty dollars, -which was to be paid for in thirty days. Here is the -bill of it. (<i>Passes to <span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span></i>) This was three -months ago, and though they have repeatedly sent -letters calling your attention to it, no notice has been<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span> -taken of them. Have you anything to say in regard -to this matter?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>dryly</i>). I think I have. In the first place, -I haven’t bought any furniture for a year. In the second -place, I never heard of Messrs. Phillips & Hoffman, -and therefore, of course, never bought anything from -them (<i>sighing</i>). The fact is, sir, you’ve got hold of -the wrong John Smith.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Str.</span> You can’t come that dodge on me. The John -Smith that I was looking for lived in Taylor’s Block, -and as this is the place, you must be the man I am -seeking.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>indignantly</i>). Do you doubt my word, sir? -Let me inform you that there are two other John Smiths -living in this block, as I know to my sorrow. Besides, -if you’ll take the trouble to look at the furniture, you’ll -see that it has been used a much longer time. I notice -by the bill (<i>glancing at it</i>) that it was a suite of parlor -furniture that was bought, and this is the only furniture -of that description which we possess.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Str.</span> (<i>looking around him</i>). This is not a new style -of furniture, certainly. It is possible that I may be -mistaken in the person. If so, I beg your pardon. I -will make inquiries before proceeding further in this -matter.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>with an injured air</i>). You need make no -apologies, sir. I’m getting used to this sort of thing.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Sheriff</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and enter <span class="smcap">Bridget</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> It was to number seven that the fowls went, -sir.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). Did you bring them back with -you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> No, sir, they’ve eaten ’em up. Ann McKay -said Mrs. Smith thought somebody sent ’em as a -present. But she told me privately that they had -dinner an hour earlier than usual.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> A present indeed! They knew very well it -was a mistake, and took occasion to eat their dinner -earlier, in order to have a nice meal before the mistake -could be rectified. Bridget, take the corned beef and -cabbage over, and tell them we have no use for it. -Then come back and open all the windows, and see if -we cannot get rid of this intolerable smell.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> But what are we to have for dinner?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Boiled eggs—some of yesterday’s roast—or -anything you may happen to have in the house. -For my part, I haven’t any appetite now.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Bridget</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Smith’s</span> sitting-room. <span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> -present, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>soliloquizing</i>). I don’t see where Mr. -Smith can be. It is seldom he is out so late. (<i>Calls -the servant, who is passing the door.</i>) Bridget!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>enters, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>). Yes, mum.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Did Mr. Smith say where he was going -when he left home?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> No, mum. He axed me “was you out,” and I<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span> -told him you had gone into Mrs. Clarke’s for a few -minutes. He said it was no matter; he only wanted to -know had you mended the pocket of his weskit.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I entirety forgot it. Just pass it from the -hall-closet, Bridget, and I will mend it at once. It -will serve to pass the time away.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">B.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>enters, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>). Here it is, mum (<i>passes vest to <span class="smcap">Mrs. -S.</span></i>). An’ I think I’ll be goin’ upstairs, if ye don’t -want me any more. It’s gettin’ late.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Very well, Bridget. I believe that is all I -need.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Bridget</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I think it was the pocket on the right side -that needed mending. (<i>Turns pocket inside out.</i>) What -is this? (<i>Picks up a letter in a small envelope, directed -in a lady’s hand.</i>) It cannot be a letter from his sister. -I must open it. (<i>Unfolds the letter and reads</i>):—</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Dearest John</span>,—It is a long time since the sight -of your face has gladdened my heart. Cannot you call -on me this, evening? I will refuse myself to every one -else. Remember I have not seen you for a whole week. -Notwithstanding your protestations of devotion to me, -I fear you are too attentive to your wife, and you know -she does not appreciate your love as I do. Do not fail -to come. If it is necessary to make any excuses, say -that you are obliged to be away on business. I count -the moments till we meet.</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Lillian Percival.</span>”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>bitterly</i>). Is it possible that John has -deceived me, and is carrying on an intrigue with such<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span> -a woman as that?—I cannot believe it,—and yet it -must be so. (<i>Hears sound of a latch-key,—listens.</i>) -That is his step now. (<i>Puts letter back in another pocket -of vest, and begins to sew.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>). What? Amanda—up yet. I -expected to find you asleep. Don’t trouble yourself -with mending that vest to-night. I have several -others.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>coldly</i>). Where have you been to-night, -John?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> I was out on business.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> It must have been important business to -keep you out till this hour.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> To tell the truth it was so. But it isn’t a -matter you would be likely to understand.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I understand it only too well. (<i>Passes letter -to him.</i>) Who wrote that letter? (<i>Eyes him sharply.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>bursting into a laugh</i>). I understand it all -now,—you’ve read that letter, and are jealous. Confess, -now, that that’s the case. But I didn’t suppose -you’d be so ridiculous.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>bridling</i>). Ridiculous indeed! When one’s -husband receives such letters as that, it’s about time -for his wife to inquire into the matter.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> I received the letter this morning, but, satisfied -that it was written to some other John Smith, I -thrust it hastily into my pocket, not dreaming that it -would stir up such a breeze as this.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I wish, John, that you would have your -name changed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> That is what I am intending to do. At -the next session of the Legislature, I have determined -to apply for a change of name. I believe there are -more rascals by the name of Smith than any other one -name in the world. And if there is any villain who is -brought before the police, he is sure to give his name -as John Smith. I don’t care what the new name is,—Snooks, -Jenkins, or Tubbs,—there isn’t one of them -that would bring a man into trouble half as soon, as to -be called plain John Smith.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="AUNT_RACHELS_FRIGHT">AUNT RACHEL’S FRIGHT.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Campbell</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>A Returned Traveller.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Lewis</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>The Head of the Family.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lewis</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>His Wife.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Agnes</span>,</td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="2" class="valign">Their Children.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Philip</span>,</td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Miss Rachel</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>A Spinster Sister of Mr. L.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Servant.</span></td> - <td></td> - <td></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i>Parlor at <span class="smcap">Mr. Lewis’</span>. <span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Campbell.</span> Well, I must say it seems pleasant -to be home again, once more. After travelling two years -through foreign countries, it is really refreshing to reach -one’s native land. (<i>Throws himself into an easy-chair, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span></i>) -But I wonder where Maria and her husband are? They -will be somewhat surprised to see me here a month -earlier than they expected. Fortunately, through all -my travels I have kept my latch-key, and was able to -gain an entrance without the aid of a servant. However, -now that I am here, I feel impatient to see Maria -and Arthur. I think I will ring. (<i>Rings; servant enters, -<span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Are Mr. and Mrs. Lewis at home?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> No, sir, the family are all away at a party. -You are Mrs. Lewis’s brother, I suppose?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Yes. (<i>Surprised.</i>) Did she expect me to-night?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S.</span> Yes, and she bade me say they were sorry to -be obliged to be away. But they wished you to make -yourself comfortable. Here is the evening paper, sir. -(<i>Hands it to him.</i>) As they will not be home till late, I -will conduct you to your room when you wish to retire.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> There’s no occasion for that. I remember -my old room very well. I will read a while before I go -to bed. I may possibly sit up till they come home. At -all events, I shall not need any further service from you.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Servant</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>)</p> - -<p>Well, I must say I’m mystified. In the first place, I -don’t see how Maria heard I should arrive to-day. In -the second place, when I asked if Mr. and Mrs. Lewis -were at home, the servant said <i>all the family</i> were away. -Now people don’t use such an expression as that when -the family consists of only two members. I wonder -whether they have company? I wish I might meet my -sister Eliza here. But I won’t trouble myself with needless -conjectures. I shall learn all about the matter in -the morning. (<i>A pause.</i>) I believe I’ll put on my slippers. -(<i>Opens bag, from which he takes slippers. He takes -off boots, puts on slippers, then takes up evening paper.</i>) -I wonder what the news is. In fact, it will be all news -to me. Ah! here’s the announcement of the arrival of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span> -the Rosamond. But if Maria had seen it she wouldn’t -have supposed that I was a passenger. How <i>could</i> she -have heard of my arrival? That is a mystery to me. -(<i>He commences reading, but in one or two minutes his eyes -close, and he begins to nod. Suddenly his head falls back, -and the paper drops from his grasp. He wakens with a -start.</i>) Why, bless me, I nearly lost myself! I feel -very sleepy. (<i>Looks at his watch.</i>) No wonder—it is -nearly half-past eleven o’clock. I think I will go to -bed. (<i>Picks up paper, and puts it on the table, then takes -his bag—a small one—and a light, and leaves the -room, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>A chamber. There must be a bed in the -room, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span> This may be a lounge, but it must have curtains -around it. These are necessary, and can be arranged -on a light, portable frame. <span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> enters the -room, sets down the lamp on table, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, and looks around, -in astonishment.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> It seems Maria has entirely refurnished this -chamber. I can hardly recognize the room I have occupied -so many times. But I am too sleepy to take much -account of surroundings. If the bed is only comfortable, -I shall not take much notice of anything else. (<i>Takes -off coat, vest, and slippers, which he puts near head of bed, -and extinguishes the light. He then parts the curtains and -throws himself upon the bed, drawing the curtains to after -him.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span></p> - -<p>(<i>A pause. Then the door opens, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and an ancient -maiden, in party attire, enters. She sets lamp down on -the table. Sits down, herself, and proceeds to divest her -head of its adornings. She takes off two sets of curls, -two or three braids, and numberless hairpins. Also -takes from her mouth a set of false teeth. While these -preparations are going on, she soliloquizes</i>:)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Aunt Rachel.</span> What senseless people one meets at a -party, to be sure!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>peeping from between curtains, aside</i>). Who -the deuce is this?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> (<i>continuing</i>). There was that Fitznoodle, -the puppy, trying to make himself agreeable to our -little Agnes. To be sure, she’s old enough to have a -beau, but I hope to goodness she won’t marry <i>him</i>. I -wouldn’t if he was worth his weight in gold.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>again peeping out,—in a low tone</i>). What a -fate it would be for a man to marry such a woman as -that! Though, for that matter, there won’t be much -left of her, if she keeps on. She’s got her head most -taken to pieces, already.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Aunt R.</span> puts on a very large night-cap, so that only -a small portion of her face is visible. She suddenly discovers -the other lamp. <span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> frequently peeps out.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> (<i>in dismay</i>). Where did that other lamp -come from? I know it wasn’t here when I dressed for -the party. (<i>Looks around. <span class="smcap">Mr. C.’s</span> head disappears, -and the curtains are closed. She discovers a coat and -vest on the chair near head of bed. Her eyes are fixed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span> -on them in horror. She wrings her hands.</i>) Oh, there’s -a man in the room, I know there is! I shall faint. (<i>She -suddenly considers that, under the circumstances, this -would be improper.</i>) If I only dared to go and look! -(<i>Stands a moment, with hands tightly clasped together, -grows courageous, and slowly walks toward the bed, peeps -through the curtain, and, darting back, screams.</i>) Oh! -oh! oh!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>parting the curtains a little</i>). Don’t be -so foolish, madam. I assure you it is all a mistake.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> That’s what they always say. (<i>Runs to door, -<span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, looking back now and then, to see if she is pursued; -screams</i>:) Emmeline! James! Help! Murder! Thieves!</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Aunt Rachel</span>.</i>)</p> - -<p class="center">(<i><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> parts the curtain, and looks forth.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Well, I must say, that’s rather curious. -The mystery thickens. Pray who could that female be? -I’m sure it’s no one that I ever saw before. Perhaps -she’s left a handkerchief with her name written on it. -I guess I’ll reconnoitre a little, as she has left me a -light. (<i>Goes to table, lifts, successively, the braids and -masses of curls.</i>) Here is part of her make-up. But -there’s no name on it. In fact, there is nothing to give -any clue to the mystery. But there’s one thing I can -do. I’ll fasten the door so that I shall not be interrupted -again. (<i>Goes to door and locks it.</i>) Now I believe I -will retire once more, and see if I cannot get a little -rest. And for fear I may be routed again, I will leave -the light burning. (<i>He goes to bed.</i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span></p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i>Parlor at <span class="smcap">Mr. Lewis’</span>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, -<span class="smcap">Agnes</span>, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Philip</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, present. They are engaged -in taking off their outer garments.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lewis.</span> How glad I am to get home again! I feel -very tired.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Philip.</span> I don’t feel tired a bit. I wanted to stop -longer. Didn’t you, Agnes?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Agnes.</span> I had a nice time, and enjoyed myself very -much. (<i>Smiling.</i>) I don’t suppose I should seriously -have objected to stopping longer. Do you know, Phil, -I made a good many new acquaintances this evening?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Phil.</span> Yes, you seemed to be having a splendid time, -talking with Fitznoodle. I can’t say I admire your -taste.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Oh, as for that, I don’t fancy him much, myself, -but you know one must be civil, even if they don’t like -those they are talking with.</p> - -<p>(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Aunt Rachel</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, with night-cap on, in a -state of great excitement.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> Oh, murder! Help! Thieves!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> What is it, Rachel?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> (<i>gasping</i>). Oh, dear! Oh, dear!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> Why, Rachel, what is the matter?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Do tell us, Aunt Rachel.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Phil.</span> (<i>sturdily</i>). I’ll protect you, Aunt Rachel. -Where’s the robber?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> Oh, there’s a man in my room—and he spoke -to me. (<i>Clasping her hands.</i>) What shall I do? Oh! -oh!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> A man in your room! It can’t be. How -could he get in with the doors all locked?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> (<i>tartly</i>). I tell you there is a man there. -Don’t you believe me? He spoke to me too.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Phil.</span> What did he say, Aunt Rachel?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> I’m sure I don’t know. I didn’t wait to hear.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> (<i>entering, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>). Pray what is the matter? -You all look frightened.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> And well we may. There’s a man in -Rachel’s room.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> That’s all imagination. It is simply impossible -that any one could get in, under the circumstances.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> (<i>in a high tone</i>). What! Do you mean to -insinuate that I don’t know what I’m talking about? -I guess I haven’t lost the use of any of my faculties yet. -And I saw him with my own eyes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> Don’t get disturbed, Rachel. We can -easily learn whether there is any one there or not. I -will go myself and see.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> Don’t go, Alfred. If there is a man there, -of course he is armed. What could you do to protect -yourself against the assault of a desperate man, and -one well armed too? Take my advice and call a policeman.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> Well, perhaps that would be a better way. -(<i>Starts to go out, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> But what shall we do? We can’t be left -alone. He might murder us all and escape before you -got back.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> That is true.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> Why can’t we arm ourselves, and all go, -in a body? There wouldn’t be much chance for him to -escape, and we could, all together, overpower him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> Very well. I’ll take the carving-knife. -(<i>Takes it from, table.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> I’ll take the poker. (<i>Takes it.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Phil.</span> I’ll take the tongs. (<i>Takes them, and stepping -up behind <span class="smcap">Aunt Rachel</span>, pretends to take off her night-cap -with them.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> I’ll take the broom, and use it well, too. -(<i>Takes it from behind the door.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> I’ll get the clothes-line to tie him with. -(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Agnes</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> The rest go out, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, in the following order—<span class="smcap">Mr.</span> -and <span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span>, <span class="smcap">Aunt R.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Philip</span>.</i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span>—<i>Same as Scene II. Bed with curtains -drawn. Some one tries the door, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> <span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> parts -the curtains, and looks out.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> What’s to pay now, I wonder? I believe I -shall have more adventures in this one night than I -met with all the time I was abroad. (<i>Great pounding at -the door.</i>) Halloo there! Don’t break the door down. -What’s wanted?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> (<i>outside</i>). Open this door at once, in the -name of the law.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Well, well, wait a minute. (<i>He steps out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span> -of bed, thrusts his feet in slippers, then goes and opens -the door. Seems astonished at seeing so many strange -faces. They enter,—<span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> and <span class="smcap">Philip</span> pass to <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>; -the rest remain at <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>,—eying him cautiously, but concealing -their weapons behind them.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> Well, sir, what do you mean by entering -my house at night, and frightening this lady (<i>turning -to <span class="smcap">Aunt R.</span></i>) in such a manner?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> I think I can explain it satisfactorily, sir; -but I must first ask a few questions. Is your name -Lewis?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> It is.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> How long have you occupied this house?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> (<i>puzzled</i>). About a month.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> What was the name of the former occupant?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> His name was Lewis, also. I bought the -house of him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> <i>My</i> name is Campbell. I am a brother of -the other Mrs. Lewis. I have been travelling abroad -for the last two years, and arrived here late last evening. -Having a latch-key, and being ignorant of the -change of owners, I entered, but was disappointed at -not finding any one at home. The servant said the -family were away at a party, and offered to conduct -me to my room when I was ready to retire. She said -Mrs. Lewis <i>was expecting her brother</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> I was expecting him, but he didn’t come.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Under these circumstances, and misled by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span> -the name, I had no suspicion that I was trespassing. -I therefore told the servant I could easily find the way -to my room, as I had slept there many times before. -I must apologize to this lady (<i>turning to <span class="smcap">Aunt R.</span></i>) for -giving her such a fright, which I assure her was entirely -unintentional on my part.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> (<i>laughing</i>). Your explanation is perfectly -satisfactory, sir. Mr. Arthur Lewis lives three blocks -farther down-town. But it is late, and you must be -our guest for the remainder of the night. We will furnish -you with another bed, and——</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> (<i>interrupting him indignantly</i>). Do you suppose -I would sleep in that bed after a man had slept -there? Never! Let him stay here the rest of the -night, if he wants to. I shall sleep in the other chamber -myself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Phil.</span> That’s it, Aunt Rachel. Stand up for your -rights.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> Very well, let it be arranged so. And -we’d better all retire, for it is already an hour past -midnight.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> I thank you all for your hospitality, and -hope in the morning to be able to vindicate my character -more fully.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span> That is quite unnecessary. Your statement -is entirely satisfactory. (<i>Turns to go out, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Phil.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">A. R.</span></i>) Hadn’t you better take your -braids and curls and things, Aunt Rachel? Mr. Campbell -won’t have any use for them, and you look better -with them on than you do without.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> (<i>hastily putting her hand to head—mortified</i>). -I didn’t expect, when I put this cap on, to receive -callers. (<i>Goes and gets things from table.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> You are very excusable, under the circumstances.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> (<i>bowing</i>). Then I will bid you good-night.</p> - -<table summary="Lines jointly spoken"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span></td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="4" class="valign">(<i>bowing</i>). Good-night.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span></td> - <td>⎬</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Agnes</span></td> - <td>⎪</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span></td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="smcap">Philip</span> (<i>bowing</i>). Good <i>morning</i>.</p> - -<p>(<i>Exeunt, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, <span class="smcap">Mr. L.</span>, <span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span>, <span class="smcap">Agnes</span>, <span class="smcap">Aunt R.</span> and -<span class="smcap">Philip</span>. <span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> remains.</i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_HYPOCHONDRIAC_CURED">THE HYPOCHONDRIAC CURED.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Crowell</span>,</td> - <td>A Hypochondriac.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Maria Davidson</span>,</td> - <td>His Niece.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Foster</span>,</td> - <td>His Housekeeper.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Preston</span>,</td> - <td>A Friend, disguised as a Policeman.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i>The house-keeper’s room. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Foster</span> (an -elderly person wearing spectacles) sits knitting, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> -<span class="smcap">Maria</span> enters <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, and sits down, wearily.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Foster.</span> Well, Maria, you look tired enough.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Maria.</span> I do feel rather tired.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> (<i>emphatically</i>). It’s a shame for any man -to be so trying as your uncle is. He hasn’t any business -to be so, even if he is sick. It’s nothing but scold and -fret from morning till night. And the more you do, -the more you may. You can’t please him any way you -can fix it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> I’ve tried to please him, but haven’t succeeded. -Now I’m going to see if I can’t cure him both of his -fault-finding and his sickness.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> How is that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> I think of inviting him to go away on a visit.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> I don’t believe he will go. He has an idea -that he’s very sick; but, for my part, I think it’s -because he wants to make himself a nuisance.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Hush, Mrs. Foster! You forget he is my -uncle, and therefore entitled to my respect and attention.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> Well, I don’t see how you can stand it. I’d -as soon wait on the old boy himself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). I hope you don’t compare my uncle -to that renowned personage?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> Well, I don’t know which I’d rather wait -on. He’s the most contrary man I ever knew. (<i>A -knock is heard on the floor outside, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Hark! (<i>In listening attitude, and with uplifted -finger. Knock repeated.</i>) There’s my uncle’s knock. -He’s awake and wants me.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> It’s a wicked shame for him to make such -a slave of her. He’s a real torment. (<i>Knits vigorously—starts -as if suddenly remembering.</i>) But there, I -promised to go over and sit with old Miss Barnard this -afternoon. I guess I’ll go, and take my knitting.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit. Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mr. Crowell’s</span> chamber. <span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> apparently -asleep, on lounge, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span> He opens his eyes. No -one else present.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Crowell</span> (<i>in a querulous tone</i>). Where’s -Maria? She’s always gone when I want her. I might<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span> -die here, and nobody’d know anything about it. -(<i>Knocks on floor with cane. <span class="smcap">Maria</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Are you awake, uncle?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Awake? Of course I am. I’ve been awake -this half hour. You might have heard me knocking -long ago, if you were not deaf.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> I came up as soon as I heard your knock. And -how does your head feel?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> A great deal worse. And my face is hot. -I’m sure that I am going to have a fever.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> The doctor said it was only a cold.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Doctors don’t know everything. Did you -bring me up a cup of tea?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> No; you didn’t say anything about it, did you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Well, I supposed you’d know that I should -need something by this time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> It was only an hour ago that you took a bowl of -gruel, and I didn’t think you would wish for anything -more so soon.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> It was full three hours ago. And I want a -cup of tea,—hot, mind you,—just as soon as I can -have it.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Maria</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>soliloquizing</i>). It is strange that some -people haven’t sense enough to know what a sick person -wants, without being told everything. I always thought -Maria was a good nurse; but she is no better than the -rest of them. (<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Maria.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Here is a nice cup of tea for you, uncle.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>tastes it—throws down the spoon and turns<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span> -his head away</i>). It’s hot enough to take the skin off -my mouth. I don’t want any more. Throw it away.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Maria</span> pours it away. She then takes a fan, and -gently fans the invalid. He bears it a moment, then -says</i>:)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Don’t keep that fan going; I shall take -more cold.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> You said your face was hot.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Well, I don’t want to be cooled off so suddenly. -Let me taste of that tea again.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> I threw it away.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>in surprise</i>). Threw my tea away?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Yes, you told me to. You said you didn’t -want it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> I should think you might know by this time -that I don’t mean what I say. Get me some more, -quick.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Maria</span> goes out. During her absence <span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> remains -quiet, and with his eyes closed. She soon returns.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Why didn’t you stay all day?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> I hurried all I could, uncle; you know I had to -wait for the tea to get hot. (<i>Tasting.</i>) It’s very nice.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>shaking his head</i>). I’ve got all off the -notion for it, now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Won’t you have some of it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> No; I’ve lost all desire for it. (<i><span class="smcap">M.</span> places -tea on the table. A knock is heard.</i>) Who’s that making -such a racket?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> I’ll go and see. (<i>Goes out—soon returns.</i>) It’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span> -Mr. Preston, uncle. He wishes to know how you -are.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Tell him it’s none of his business.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Yes, uncle. (<i>Goes out—soon returns.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Well, what did he say?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> He seemed quite angry.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Angry at what, pray?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> I suppose at being told it was none of his business.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Maria, you didn’t tell him that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Yes, I did, uncle. You told me to tell him it -was none of his business, and he said he shouldn’t -trouble you by calling again.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>angrily</i>). Haven’t you got sense enough to -know that I don’t mean what I say?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> I supposed, of course, you meant what you -said, though I didn’t exactly like to repeat your message -to him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>after a pause</i>). I guess I’ll try a little of -the tea, Maria. (<i>She brings it.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>languidly</i>). You’ll have to feed me, Maria, -I’m so weak.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Yes, uncle. (<i>Places napkin under chin, and -proceeds to feed him.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> Stop—stop—it’s hot. You’re choking -me. (<i>But <span class="smcap">Maria</span> keeps on.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>moving quickly one side</i>).—Sto-op. Can’t -you understand plain English? I don’t believe there’s a -particle of skin left on my tongue. What do you mean?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> You told me I ought to know by this time that -you didn’t mean what you said. So I supposed I was -to go on, at any rate.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> It’s horrible tasting stuff. You’ve been -putting pepper into it. While you were about it, why -didn’t you put in vinegar, too?</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Maria</span>, without a word, goes to the table, takes up the -vinegar-cruet, and pours vinegar into the cup.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>starting up</i>). Maria Davidson, I believe -you are either a fool or insane.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Maria</span> sits down, and begins to cry. <span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> gazes -at her in astonishment. A drumming is heard outside, -<span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>putting his hands to his head</i>). Oh, my -poor head! my poor head! Maria, take my pistol -from the closet, and shoot the rascal. (<i>She goes to the -closet, gets the pistol, and fires, according to his direction.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> What the deuce has got into the girl! (<i>He -starts up, and goes to the window, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>,—mechanically -takes up the pistol which <span class="smcap">Maria</span> had laid down. She -glides out by one door, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, and immediately a policeman -enters by another, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Policeman.</span> So here you are. I’ll just slip on these -bracelets, so you won’t do any more mischief.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>drawing back</i>). What do you mean by insulting -me in such a manner?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> You’ve been attempting to murder a man.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> No, I haven’t.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> Didn’t you fire a pistol from the window just -now?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. M.</span> No, I didn’t fire it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> Who did fire it, then?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> (<i>hesitating</i>). Why, I—you see—it was—my -niece that fired it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> (<i>looking around room</i>). That’s a likely story. -If she fired the pistol, where is she now?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> She went out a few minutes ago.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> You can’t come that dodge on me. It was only -a moment ago that it was done, and there’s no one but -you in the room, and I found you with the pistol in -your hand. You must come along with me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> But I can’t—I’m sick.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> (<i>taking a look at him</i>). You don’t appear to be -dangerously sick. I guess you’re able to go with me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> But I had the doctor this morning. I’m -quite feverish, and it might cause my death to go -out.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">P.</span> If you’re sick you shall have a doctor to prescribe -for you. Come along. (<i>Takes him by shoulder.</i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Maria</span> (<i>entering, soliloquizing</i>). My plot has been -carried out well thus far. I don’t think uncle recognized -the policeman. It is astonishing how the habit -of complaining gains on one. But if a person is unreasonable, -and given to complaining, there is nothing -that will effect a cure so soon as <i>taking him at his word</i>. -(<i>Uncle enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>) Ah, have you returned so soon,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span> -uncle? I have felt quite anxious about you, fearing you -might take more cold.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> You are a very successful little manager, -Maria, upon my word. I felt mortified enough on -starting from my own house in the character of a -criminal. But I could blame no one but myself, since -my orders were all obeyed, not only very promptly, -but <i>very literally</i>. Then I thought what an unreasonable -bear I was, and what a patient little nurse you -were, and by the time we stopped I had become quite -subdued. Then I discovered that the policeman was -my old and valued friend, Mr. Preston. It all flashed -upon my mind that it was a plot to bring me to my -senses, and to show how unreasonable I was.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Oh, no, uncle, not that exactly. We only aimed -to show you that you imagined yourself worse than you -really were. But hadn’t you better lie down awhile? -You are not accustomed to such exertion.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. C.</span> No; I am thoroughly cured in mind and -body. Nothing would tempt me to personate again the -miserable hypochondriac I was when I left the house. -I am cured, and I mean to stay so.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="AUNT_PATIENCES_EAR-TRUMPET">AUNT PATIENCE’S EAR-TRUMPET.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Granby.</span></td> - <td></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Clara</span>,</td> - <td>Her Daughter.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Aunt Patience Burton</span>,</td> - <td>a Lady of Property.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Ernest Montgomery</span>,</td> - <td>Clara’s Suitor.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Servant.</span></td> - <td></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Granby’s</span> sitting-room. <span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, -with sober countenance, holds in her hand an open -letter, on which her eyes are fixed. Enter her daughter -<span class="smcap">Clara</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Clara.</span> Does your letter contain any sad news, ma?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Granby.</span> Not exactly <i>sad</i> news,—but <i>disagreeable</i>, -to say the least.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>interested</i>). What is it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>glancing at letter</i>). This is a letter from -Aunt Patience Burton. She is coming to make us a -visit.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> That is <i>horrible</i> news. I shouldn’t want Ernest -to see her—she is so fussy and homely.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> He will, no doubt, feel as we do, that -money is of more consequence than a handsome face. -Besides, we shan’t be troubled with her long.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> How long do you suppose she will stop here?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> A week or two, I suppose. That is the -usual length of her visits.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>with the air of a martyr</i>). Well, I suppose we -must try to endure her presence for that length of time—hoping -for our final reward.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>in a brighter tone</i>). If she could only be -persuaded into making her will in our favor, I shouldn’t -consider the trouble of having her here anything.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> How much is she supposed to be worth?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> About thirty thousand dollars.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Just think how much more that amount would -benefit us than it does her. I dare say she hoards it -up like a miser.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). That will be all the better for -us.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Yes, if we get it. But when does the letter say -she is coming?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> I did not notice particularly. Let me -see. (<i>Looks over letter—reads</i>:) “You may expect -me Friday, the twenty-fifth, wind and weather permitting.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>interrupting</i>). The twenty-fifth! Why, that’s -to-day! (<i>Bell rings outside.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> And there is the bell. I shouldn’t be at -all surprised if that were she. (<i>Both rise.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span></p> - -<p>(<i>Enter, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, a prim, elderly lady, with corkscrew curls, -and wearing an old-fashioned bonnet.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>greeting her with a smile of welcome, and -shaking hands warmly</i>). Why, Aunt Patience, how -glad I am to see you! Clara and I were just speaking -of you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Aunt Prudence</span> (<i>diving into the recesses of an -ample pocket</i>). Wait a minute, Elviry. (<i>Takes out an -ear-trumpet, which she adjusts to her ear.</i>) There, now -we can talk.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>in a loud tone</i>). I had no idea you were -so deaf, aunt.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> I’m getting old, you know, and can’t expect -to keep my faculties like younger people. But where’s -Clara?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> This is Clara. (<i>Steps aside for her daughter -to approach.</i>) Didn’t you recognize her?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> No, she’s grown so I didn’t know her. How -d’ye do, dear?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>shaking hands</i>). How do you do, aunt? I’m -glad to see you here.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> Thank ye, child. It’s pleasant to find that -old folks aint always forgotten and wished out of the -way.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>in a loud voice</i>). Let me assist you in taking -off your bonnet.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> You needn’t speak so loud when I have my -trumpet.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Then you can hear without using it?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> Yes, but not without you speak pretty loud. -(<i>Lays her trumpet down.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>taking aunt’s bonnet, and carrying it to -table. Addressing daughter.</i>) You see, she’s as deaf -as can be. (<i>Old lady sits down.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> That’s lucky. We can relieve our minds without -her hearing us. Is she going to stay long?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> I don’t know. I will ask her. (<i>In a loud -voice:</i>) I hope you are going to make us a long visit.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> I shan’t be able to stop more than a month. -But perhaps it won’t be convenient for you to have me -with you so long.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>in a loud tone to aunt</i>). We shall be delighted -(<i>in a lower tone to her daughter</i>) when you go -away. That’s true, isn’t it, Clara?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Yes, indeed. But (<i>dismally</i>) do you suppose -we can live through the month?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> We must try to, for the sake of the -money. (<i>To <span class="smcap">Aunt P.</span></i>) Have you been well, lately, -aunt?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> No, I’ve enjoyed dreadful poor health this -winter. I’ve been most dead with roomatiz and I -haven’t got over it yet.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> It must have been hard to bear.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> Yes, it made me feel as if I ought to make -my will, and I think I shall make it as soon as I get -home again.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Oh, you have many years yet to live, -aunt.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> I can see well enough that I am getting old, -and cannot live long, anyway. I get tired out very -easy. I think I shall have to ask you to show me to -the room I am to occupy, and I will lie down awhile. -I aint much used to travelling, and it tires me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Shan’t I get you a cup of tea, aunt?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> Oh, no. All I need is a little rest.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> There, I think we have made a good impression. -If she only makes a will in our favor, I -shall consider the attentions we pay her a good investment.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> But suppose she shouldn’t leave her money to -us?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Oh, don’t let your imagination run in that -direction. We must manage to get into her good graces, -so that we may become her heirs.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Well, I will do all I can to bring about so desirable -a result.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>The same. <span class="smcap">Aunt P.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, knitting. Clara, -<span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, sitting idly, with book in her hand.</i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> Didn’t you hear the bell just now, Clara?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Yes, I am expecting a friend here to-night. -Ah (<i>rising as <span class="smcap">Ernest Montgomery</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>), good-evening, -Ernest.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ernest Montgomery.</span> Good-evening. You were -expecting me, I suppose.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Of course I was. I always remember appointments. -But I suppose I must introduce you to my -aunt. (<i>In a loud tone</i>:) Aunt Patience, this is Mr. -Montgomery.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> (<i>extending her hand to the young man</i>). I am -very glad to see him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">E. M.</span></i>). We shan’t need to take any further -notice of her. She’s deaf as an adder, and can’t hear -a word without her trumpet unless we scream at her. -I believe you never saw her before.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> No.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> She isn’t very handsome, is she?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> Aren’t you afraid she’ll hear you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Oh no, she’s too deaf.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> But deaf people generally hear things that -are not intended for their ears.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Well, I’ll run the risk. When we speak to her -she seldom hears the first time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> What was that you said?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>in a loud tone</i>). Only that it was so long since -you had been here that we should try to make you have -a pleasant time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> (<i>in a satisfied tone</i>). Oh, was that it? Thank -you, child.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> (<i>with admiration</i>). You got out of that well.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Trust me for that. When one has a rich aunt, -it is the best to keep on the right side of her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> Did you speak to me, Clara?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> No; I was telling Mr. Montgomery how fond I -was of cider.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> I used to like cider when I was a girl; but that -was the genuine article, and we used to go to the mill -where they made it, and take it through a straw.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> (<i>interested</i>). So your aunt is rich?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Yes; she is said to be worth thirty thousand -dollars.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> That’s quite a fortune.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> (<i>as if talking to herself</i>). Yes; deafness is -quite a misfortune; but one doesn’t mind it so much -when they’re stopping among their own relations.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). Yes, it is quite a fortune, and of course -we put up with her oddities for the sake of the money, -which will, most of it, come to us.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> She may outlive you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> That’s what I’m afraid of. It would be just our -luck to have her live to be a hundred.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> How old is she now?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> About sixty-five.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> Then you would only have to wait thirty-five -years for it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> We might as well never have her money as to -wait so long as that for it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> It would be rather a long while, that’s a fact. -By that time you would look as your aunt does now. -Do you know, I think you resemble her very much?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>tapping him playfully with her fan</i>). Take that -for your impertinence, sir. I must be a charming damsel, -if that were the case.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> So I thought; which was why I made the -remark.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>flushing</i>). I don’t esteem it any compliment.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> What was that you said, Clara?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> I was saying to Mr. Montgomery that people -seldom say what they mean.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> (<i>nodding</i>). That’s true—that’s true enough. -(<i>After a pause—holding up knitting.</i>) Well, there, I’ve -got that stocking pretty well along, and haven’t been -knitting a great while, either. Mr. Montgomery, may -I trouble you to tell me what time it is?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> It is no trouble, madam, I assure you. (<i>Looks -at watch.</i>) It is about (<i>hesitates</i>) five minutes past -ten.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. P.</span> Five minutes past ten! I had no idea ’twas -so late. (<i>Gathers up her knitting.</i>) That’s long past -the time I usually go to bed. Good-night, Mr. Montgomery; -good-night, Clara.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Good-night, aunt.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> Good-evening, madam.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Aunt Patience</span>, -<span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> What made you tell her it was so late? It isn’t -more than nine o’clock.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E. M.</span> (<i>looking at watch</i>). It is just half-past eight. -But although I enjoyed her society exceedingly, I was -willing to deny myself that pleasure for the sake of having -a little private conversation with you on a very important -matter. (<i><span class="smcap">Clara</span> casts down her eyes. <span class="smcap">Mr. -Montgomery</span> draws his chair near hers, and takes her -hand.</i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span></p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i>The same. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Granby</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Clara</span>, -<span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, present.</i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Doesn’t it seem a great relief to have Aunt Patience -gone?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> I must say that it does. I was constantly -anxious for fear she would learn our real feelings, -though I flatter myself we concealed them quite -carefully.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> I don’t believe she suspected at all that we were -glad her visit was over. Deaf people are most always -obtuse.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> I hope it may prove so, for her money -would be a great help to us. In fact, I don’t see how -we can get along without it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> It would be very convenient if she would let us -have an instalment of a few thousands soon—before -my marriage, for instance.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Yes, in that case we could afford to send -to Paris for your trousseau. But has the time for the -wedding been fixed?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Yes; Ernest wishes it to take place in June.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> I spoke of your marriage as liable to take -place soon, and hoped Aunt Patience would take the -hint; but she didn’t seem to.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> What reply did she make?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> She said she hadn’t anything special against -Mr. Montgomery, but that <i>she</i> would never think of -choosing <i>him</i> for a husband.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Perhaps he reciprocates her feelings. I don’t -think it would be a suitable match myself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). Being an interested party, -perhaps you are not a suitable judge.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Servant</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, bearing a letter, which she passes -to <span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). A letter from Aunt Patience, -as I live!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> Yes, ma’am, and there’s a box downstairs, -with one end of the old lady’s ear-trumpet sticking out -of it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Very well, you may let it remain there for -the present.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Servant</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>clasping her hands, while an expression of horror -overspreads her face</i>). Don’t say Aunt Patience is -coming back again. I certainly think I couldn’t survive -such an event.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>who has read the letter—quite soberly</i>). -It is worse than that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Worse! I don’t know of anything that could be -worse than another visit from Aunt Patience.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Very well—read the letter and satisfy -yourself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>Taking the letter, which she reads aloud:</i>)</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Niece Elvira</span>: Thinking you might be anxious to -hear from me, I write to say that I reached home safely. -But since my arrival I have had an attack of rheumatic -fever. Therefore, feeling that life is uncertain, yesterday -I made my will. Before visiting you I had decided<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span> -to leave my property to you; but I changed my mind, -and have concluded to leave it to the Home for Aged -Women, a charitable institution, where it will, I hope, -do a great deal of good.</p> - -<p>“I shall not visit you again. It would be too much -of a tax on you to ask you to put up with my odd ways. -As you remarked to Clara when I came that you would -be delighted to have me go, this information will doubtless -be pleasing to you. Besides, I have a presentiment -that I shall not live long, notwithstanding Clara’s -fears to the contrary.</p> - -<p>“Although deaf as an adder when I came to visit -you, my hearing has been wonderfully restored, so that -I can now dispense with my ear-trumpet. I therefore -send it to you, hoping it may do you as good service as -it did me, in showing me for what I was valued most.</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Aunt Patience.</span>”</p> - -</div> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> and <span class="smcap">Clara</span> look blankly at each other.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> So it seems we are not to have any of -Aunt Patience’s money after all.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>indignantly</i>). It’s a real mean thing for any one -to be so deceitful—going round pretending to be deaf. -I’m glad she isn’t coming here again. I couldn’t -endure the sight of her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Serv.</span> (<i>entering, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>). Here’s a note that Mr. -Montgomery left for you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). Has he been here?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Serv.</span> Yes, he came just after the expressman -brought the box.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> But why didn’t he stop?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">S.</span> He heard you reading the letter, and he said -he couldn’t stop but a moment; a message would do -just as well as seeing you. So he wrote this note in the -drawing-room, and asked me to give it to you. (<i><span class="smcap">Clara</span> -gazes at the note. <span class="smcap">Servant</span> goes out, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> Why don’t you read your note?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> I am so surprised. (<i>Unfolds the paper—reads -aloud:</i>)</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“<span class="smcap">Miss Clara Granby</span>: I have received an appointment -which will carry me to India, and I am to sail for -that place this afternoon. I called to bid you good-by, -but finding you engaged, and being myself in great -haste, I make my adieu on paper. As I may be gone -for a long time, perhaps a number of years, I deem it -my duty to release you from your engagement.</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Ernest Montgomery.</span>”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> What does it mean?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>contemptuously</i>). It means that he overheard -enough of Aunt Patience’s letter to know that we are -not to have any of her property; so he has magnanimously -released me from my engagement.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> But what are you going to do about it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> Do? I don’t know as there is anything to be -done. In fact, my present feelings of indifference towards -him show that my affections were not involved, -and I am well satisfied to have him leave me as he has -done. As to Aunt Patience, I guess we can get along<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span> -without any of her money. I have several accomplishments -that can be turned to account if necessity requires -it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. G.</span> (<i>with motherly solicitude, and looking at the -matter from a practical point of view</i>). But young -ladies who earn their own living are considered strong-minded, -and never get married. I couldn’t bear to have -you an old maid.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">C.</span> (<i>calmly</i>). Well, I don’t know as that would be -a terrible fate. It would be a more independent life -than marriage would give me. On the whole, I think I -shall decide to live a single life. (<i>Smiling.</i>) Still, as -an old lady of eighty once said: “I’ve made up my -mind not to get married, and I don’t expect to; but if -the Lord should see fit to send me a good husband, I -should try to be resigned.”</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_GHOSTLY_VISITATION">THE GHOSTLY VISITATION.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Flora Willis</span>,</td> - <td>A Young Widow.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lawrence</span>,</td> - <td>Her Mother.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Alfred Percival</span>,</td> - <td>Flora’s Suitor.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lawrence’s</span> parlor. <span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, -<span class="smcap">Flora</span>, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Mr. Percival</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, present.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Flora.</span> Oh, yes, mother believes in ghosts, and -haunted houses, and all those things, and I suppose -that, as a dutiful daughter, I ought to do the same; but -I haven’t very much faith in them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Percival.</span> Perhaps, if you had had any experience -in that direction, you might feel differently about -the matter. I never believed in haunted houses till I -visited Charlie Baldwin, my former chum, last summer.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Do tell us all about it. I should like to hear a -real nice ghost story.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Lawrence.</span> I think we’d better wait till daylight -before listening to a story of that character.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> No, it’s just the time for it; it is cold and dark -outside. We can more easily imagine the events real. -So go on, please, Mr. Percival.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span>—But my story is not a ghost story at all, -and there is really very little to tell. But we heard -strange noises for which we could not account. For -instance, a door, which led from the house into the -shed, had swollen so that it was difficult to shut it, and -whenever it was opened and shut it creaked most musically, -so that it could be heard in all the lower rooms. -One evening we were seated at the tea-table, when we -heard the door creaking. “Who is that coming in?” -asked Mrs. Baldwin. “It is very strange,” answered -Charlie; “I am sure I closed and locked that door not -ten minutes ago.”—“Suppose we go out and see what -it is,” said Mr. Baldwin. “It certainly had a natural -sound.” We all went out in a body, and behold! the -door was shut and fastened and everything all right.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>interested</i>). Did you hear any other noises -while you were there?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> Oh, yes, we frequently heard footsteps going -up and down stairs after we had gone to bed. Sometimes -we could hear the chairs moved about in the -rooms below. And once, I remember, we heard a -terrific noise, as if the side of the house had fallen in. -But the next morning everything seemed as usual, and -we laughed about the matter.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> But were you not startled?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> Well, I cannot say I should like to live in -that house long.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> If you had heard all these things, Flora, -don’t you think you would have faith to believe that -there are some strange things which one cannot account -for?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Oh, yes; “seeing is believing,” as the old saying -is, and I suppose <i>hearing</i> is believing also. But I -must ask you to excuse me now, Mr. Percival, as I -have a letter to write, which must go out by the next -mail.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> Though we are sorry to lose your company, -we will grant you leave of absence for a short time. -(<i>Rises and opens the door for her, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> Exit <span class="smcap">Flora</span>.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> (<i>sitting down near <span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span></i>). The turn -which the conversation took just now suggested a plan -to me, which, with your permission, I should like to -carry out.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> What is it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> You are, of course, aware that I love your -daughter, and would gladly marry her. She has -rejected me, but still I think she likes me as well or -better than any one else. Now, cannot I, by stratagem, -bring her to consent to a marriage with me?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> I wish you might do so, and will gladly -assist you in any way I can. But what is your plan?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> I thought I might, with your assistance, -personate the spirit of her former husband, and appear -to her to-night while this conversation is fresh in her -mind, and warn her, if she wishes him to rest in peace, -that she must marry a certain Alfred Percival, who will -make her a good husband.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> It is a capital idea. I think the conversation -seemed to affect her considerably. Suppose you -come here at ten o’clock to-night. I will remain up, -and arrange your ghostship.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> Very well, I will do so. And I believe I -will go now, as I have some preparations to make.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Mr. Percival</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>A curtain is arranged from front to back, -dividing the stage into two rooms, as both must be seen -at once. There must be a door between. In right-hand -room is a lounge with pillow and blanket. <span class="smcap">Flora</span> -sits in rocking-chair, soliloquizing.</i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">F.</span> There’s something going on, I’m sure, but -what it can be isn’t quite clear to me. Mother has -asked me half-a-dozen times if it wasn’t bed-time; and -yet she, herself, hasn’t made any preparation toward -retiring. I shall lie down, with my clothes on, ready -for any emergency. There’s no danger of sleep overtaking -me. I feel as if I shouldn’t sleep any at all -to-night.</p> - -<p>(<i>She lies down on lounge, in right-hand room, and -covers herself with a blanket. A moment after, <span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> -looks into <span class="smcap">Flora’s</span> room and seems satisfied at seeing her -apparently asleep. She goes out into left-hand room. A -tap is heard at outer door of left-hand room. Exit -<span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Hark! what noise is that? (<i>Assumes a listening -attitude.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>Voices of <span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> and <span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> are heard from behind -the scenes.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> (<i>outside</i>). I am glad you are so punctual. -Everything is in readiness. I just looked into Flora’s -room and found she was fast asleep.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> (<i>in rather a high key</i>). Where shall I go to -arrange my costume?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> (<i>deprecatingly</i>). Hush! you mustn’t speak so -loud, as her door is ajar. Come with me, and we’ll -soon have you fitted out.</p> - -<p>(<i>They enter left-hand room cautiously. A sheet lies -unfolded on a chair. This <span class="smcap">Mrs. L</span>. drapes around her -companion. He gathers it together so as to conceal his -clothes.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> It will never do to allow your features to -show so plainly. You are only Alfred Percival, after -all. Flora would recognize you at once.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> Suppose I put the sheet over my head? (<i>Does -so.</i>) Is that any improvement?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> Yes; but still I think your features would -betray you. Let me think a moment. I have it. I -will get Mr. Willis’s wig; that will be just the thing.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> So it will. That’s a good idea. (<i>She takes -wig out of box. <span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> puts it on.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> That’s capital. Now stoop a little, and no -one would be likely to recognize you, particularly if -they had just waked.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span></p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Flora</span> covers herself again and feigns sleep. <span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> -enters her room and advances to lounge. <span class="smcap">Flora</span> moves -uneasily; then opens her eyes, and fixes them upon her -visitor.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>in apparent horror</i>). Who are you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> (<i>in sepulchral voice</i>). Flora Willis, I am the -spirit of your dead husband.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> But why do you appear to me in this way? If -you are really he, why should you come to me at the -dead of night?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> (<i>in hollow tones</i>). We, who are tenants of -another sphere, mingle not with mortals; and it is only -when all eyes are closed in slumber that we are permitted -to walk the earth.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>gaining confidence</i>). But what is your object in -coming?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> (<i>slowly</i>). I come to warn and advise you. -You are young, and, I know, cherish my memory fondly; -but I feel sure that you would be happier and enjoy -life more, if you should marry again.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> But who is there I should be happy with?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> You have many suitors; choose among -them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I’m afraid they want my money more than myself, -and such a union would cause a lifetime of misery.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> You are mistaken. There is Alfred -Percival. He would be a kind husband. It is my wish -that you marry him. Promise me that you will do so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I cannot promise; it is too sudden.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> Think of it, then. One week from to-night -I will visit you again. (<i>Passes slowly out into left-hand -room.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>musing</i>). Well, that’s curious. I’ve heard -ghost stories of almost every description, but never before -did I hear of a ghost making love. For, though -he intended to personate a spirit, he certainly spoke of -himself. And I suppose he is congratulating himself -on having completely deceived me. (<i>Suddenly.</i>) I’d -like to know what he and mother are saying about it. -And why can’t I? They are only in the next room.</p> - -<p>(<i>She rises and creeps cautiously to the door, which -stands ajar. <span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> has laid aside his ghostly covering -and is in the act of passing his wig to <span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> <span class="smcap">Flora</span> -listens.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> Then you think she did not suspect you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> Apparently not. She appeared quite -startled at first, but soon regained her composure.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> I suppose it would be better not to allude -to the subject to-morrow.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> Not on any account. That would tend to -arouse her suspicions. I wouldn’t have her know that -I took part in the stratagem.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> And what do you expect will come of it? -Of course she would not be likely to come forward and -tell you that she was willing to marry you, even if she -felt favorably inclined toward you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> (<i>hesitatingly</i>). I think I shall call upon her -to-morrow, and then I shall be governed entirely by -circumstances.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span></p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Flora</span> hurries back to the lounge. <span class="smcap">Mr. Percival</span> -goes out, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> <span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> cautiously goes and looks in at -<span class="smcap">Flora</span>, who appears to be asleep. Exit <span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> -Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i>Parlor. <span class="smcap">Flora</span> present, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span> She is arranging -flowers in a vase.</i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>soliloquizing</i>). So Mr. Percival is going to call -on me to-day. It is quite fortunate I happened to -overhear his plans. I suppose he will repeat that momentous -question again, and I’ve about made up my -mind to accept him. Then the matter will be settled, -and I shan’t be worried any more by his importunities. -Besides, he is a person of good standing, and I don’t -know as I love any one else more; and I don’t think -he is after my money. (<i>A pause in which she completes -the arrangement of the flowers. <span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> enters.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>advancing toward him</i>). Ah, Mr. Percival, I -was just thinking of you, and you know the old saying, -“If you think of the angels, you’ll soon hear the rustling -of their wings.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> Excuse me, but I never heard it expressed -in that way before. It has been told me in this wise: -His Satanic Majesty is always near when you’re talking -of him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I must say my version is more complimentary -than yours.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> So do I, and I draw encouragement from -that fact. If you were thinking of me, I take it as a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span> -favorable omen, and shall consider that I am not so -disagreeable to you as I feared I was.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>interrupting</i>). Oh, by the way, Mr. Percival, I -had quite an adventure last night. I saw a real, <i>bona -fide</i> ghost.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> Did you really?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Yes; as I was quietly dozing, a tall figure, clad -in white, stalked into my room, and when I opened my -eyes I beheld him close beside me, and looking down -upon my face.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> (<i>avoiding her eyes</i>). And what did he say?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (laughing). Oh, he pretended to be the spirit of -my former husband, and said I must marry again.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> (<i>taking both her hands in his</i>). Why will -you not heed his advice? Let me, too, add my solicitations. -Marry me, Flora, and you shall never have -cause to regret it. (<i>He anxiously waits her reply.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>looking up into his face with an amused smile</i>). -Why, Mr. Percival, how much you remind me of my -last night’s visitor! The expression of your face, and -the lines about your mouth—all but the white sheet -and wig.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> (<i>changing color</i>). I see that you know all; -but grant me a favorable answer, and I shall be well -satisfied.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). I suppose I ought to, since it is -decided on high authority that it is right and proper I -should do so. In that way, if in no other, I shall convince<span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span> -you that I am not afraid of ghosts, if I promise -to marry one.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. P.</span> (<i>warmly</i>). And I shall feel well repaid for personating -one by the promised reward. Henceforth I shall -look with kindness on shadowy apparitions, feeling that, -in other cases as well as my own, even ghosts may be -of some practical use.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="PRACTICAL_HUSBANDRY">PRACTICAL HUSBANDRY.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Frank Webster</span>,</td> - <td>A Young Man from the City.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Edwin Aldrich</span>,</td> - <td>His Friend.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Leighton</span>,</td> - <td>A Farmer’s Wife.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Annie Montgomery</span>,</td> - <td>Her Niece.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Frank</span> is seated, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, in the depths of an -arm-chair, his feet resting on the table. He is smoking -a cigar. Enter <span class="smcap">Edwin</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Edwin.</span> Well, Frank, you look decidedly cosey and -comfortable, that’s a fact.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Frank</span> (<i>not altering his position, but motioning his -visitor to a seat</i>). That’s the way to do. One might -as well enjoy life as he goes along. Have a cigar, -Aldrich? (<i>Offers him an open case, in which are -cigars.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>throwing himself on a lounge, <span class="allsmcap">L. C.</span></i>). No, Frank, -I believe not. The fact is, I’ve reformed—given up -smoking.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Whew! I’ll wager that’s one of the consequences -of matrimony.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> I don’t deny it. But I think smoking is a bad -habit, and have thought of giving it up before, but -never could persevere till now. That reminds me, -Frank; why don’t you marry? I dare say you could -find some one in the city foolish enough to take you for -better or worse. And you don’t know what a comfort -’tis to a man to have a good wife and a pleasant -home.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> That’s where the trouble is (<i>fondly stroking his -mustache</i>). As you say, I could easily persuade some -one to marry me, knowing as they do that I possess -plenty of money. But don’t you think it would make -a difference if I were a poor man?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> I dare say it might with some persons; but all -are not alike. I am sure there are many who esteem -wealth of less importance than personal worth.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>assuming a sitting posture, and laying cigar down</i>). -I have often thought I should like to marry; but -when I looked around among the ladies with whom I -was brought in contact, I became disgusted to see what -frivolous lives they led.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> But all women are not alike, Frank.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> That may be so, but where shall I go to look for -a different class? I have strong domestic tastes, and -would be glad to change my present state of single -blessedness for a married life. If I could find my ideal -of a wife, I would marry at once.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> I’ll tell you what it is, Frank. You must go -into the country. The girls are mostly sensible there,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span> -and think less about dress and fashion. You can assume -another name, and then look around you, and -become acquainted with some of the country girls. -My wife was born and brought up in the country, so I -can speak from experience.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> But how could I manage? I couldn’t go to a -hotel and stop with nothing to do. Country girls are -ambitious as well as those who live in the city, and if I -remained there with no occupation, I should be supposed -to be a man of some property, and I shouldn’t be -much better off than I am here.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> That’s so, my friend. I never gave you credit -for so much shrewdness. But isn’t there anything you -could do,—any kind of business, I mean?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I have it. I’ll hire myself out on a farm. In -that way, as one of the family, I shall become more intimately -acquainted with the neighborhood—girls -included.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> Imagine fastidious Benjamin Franklin Webster -dressed in coarse clothes and cowhide boots! (<i>Looking -upward.</i>) Shades of the illustrious men whose -names he bears, look down with benignity on the depth -of degradation to which he proposes to descend!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). That’ll do, Ed. I am only following -the example of at least one of those illustrious men in -working on a farm.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> And those delicate hands, that never did any -manual labor, are to be used in milking the cows and -holding the plough!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Laugh away, Ed. I’ve made my plans, and -now I’m going to carry them out.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> But, seriously, will your strength hold out?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Without doubt. Besides, every one says farming -is the most healthful occupation any one can follow. -So you may expect to see me back in the fall so stout -and fleshy that my friends will hardly know me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> And perhaps you will bring Mrs. Benjamin -Franklin Webster with you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> That’s very uncertain. I haven’t really very -great faith in the project myself; but I’m tired of my -present way of living, and any change will be welcome, -even if it does not bring about the desired result.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> But how are you going to obtain the situation?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> How am I? (<i>Smiling.</i>) That’s the question -before the meeting.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> Suppose you advertise for one. That would be -the best way, I think.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> The very thing. Couldn’t you write an advertisement -for me, Ed? You know I’m modest, and -couldn’t, of course, speak of my qualifications as well -as you could.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Edwin</span> takes sheet of paper from the table, and writes -for a few moments; then reads it.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>reading</i>). “<span class="smcap">Wanted</span>—By a young man, a situation -on a farm. Is willing to work for moderate -wages, provided he can learn the business. Address -Franklin Forrester, Box 68.” How will that do, -Frank?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I guess that’ll answer. But what paper would -it be best to insert it in? The evening “Herald”?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> Oh no, that wouldn’t do. It must be an agricultural -paper. Better put it into several; then you -will be more sure of a reply.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I’ll insert it in every agricultural paper in the -city. If I get one reply from each, I shall have at -least six.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> Very well. If one has an object in view, there’s -nothing like taking every method to accomplish it.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Frank</span> seated <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, before a table covered with -letters. Enter <span class="smcap">Edwin</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">E.</span> Well, I must say the agricultural papers in the -city have a goodly number of subscribers, judging from -appearances. This is the first edition of letters, I suppose.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Yes, and, judging from the slight examination I -have made, it already needs to be revised and corrected. -But there’s no doubt about my getting a situation, -Ed. You see what a demand there is for my services. -Sixty letters already! I can almost imagine myself at -the head of a village post-office.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> The quality may not be as satisfactory as the -quantity. But if all these letters are to be examined, -we must to work, and use diligence too. Suppose you -open them, and read them aloud.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> That’s a good way. Here’s one written in a -wretched hand, which I will read first.</p> - -<p>(<i>Cutting off one end of the envelope he draws out a -piece of paper about six inches square, which runs thus:</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>reading</i>).</p> - -<div class="blockquote"> - -<p>“Mister Forrister: I seen your notis -in the paper yisterdy. And sez I to myself, I don’t -bleeve I cood do better than to hire that man. My -bizness is diggin’ wells, wich is one branch of farmin’, -becoz every farm has to have one or more. As you say -you’re a green hand, I should expec you to pay your -bord for the fust month. I’d give you your bord the -second month for your work. After that we’d talk about -wages, though I coodn’t pay much. When cood you -kum?</p> - -<p class="center">“Yours to command,</p> - -<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Solomon Porcupine.</span>”</p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>laughing</i>). Ha! ha! ha! That’s a good one. -If you go there you’ll be sure to learn one branch of -the business pretty thoroughly. Shall you accept, and -become a member of Mr. Porcupine’s family? By the -way, he has a charming name.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Yes, characteristic, I dare say. Accept the first -chance? No indeed; not as long as I have fifty-nine -more left. (<i>Opens another letter.</i>) But what is this?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> I’m all attention.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>reading</i>). Mr. Forrester: “I notice by my -paper that you want to learn to farm. I should like to -teach you ‘what I know about farming.’ It would -take some time to do it, but I would warrant you a good<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span> -knowledge of farming in six years. You couldn’t fail -to get a thorough knowledge of the business, as I should -let you do all the work. My health is poor, and I am -only able to oversee the work. As you want a situation, -you may as well consider yourself engaged. I -shall expect you next Monday. <span class="smcap">Horace Gregory.</span>”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Well! that’s cool! I am afraid that man is -troubled by a disease called indolence. But, Ed, we -are getting along too slowly. Suppose you and I read -letters as fast as we can, and if either of us finds one -that we consider suitable it shall be read aloud. If not, -it shall be thrown into the waste basket.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> Agreed.</p> - -<p>(<i>They look over letters very hurriedly, occasionally -laughing aloud as they read something which excites their -mirth. At length <span class="smcap">Edwin</span> says:</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> Here, Frank, here’s just the place for you. -Shall I read?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Do so by all means. I am nearly discouraged.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>reading</i>). “Franklin Forrester, Esq.—Dear Sir: -Uncle William wishes me to write to you concerning an -advertisement of yours which he read in our paper. He -judges from it that you are not accustomed to working -on a farm. He has already two men, but wishes a little -more help, provided arrangements satisfactory to both -parties could be made. He is willing to pay whatever -is reasonable as regard wages, but not knowing how -much you can do, he can say nothing more definite. If -you wish any further information, a letter directed to -William Leighton, Ballardvale, Vermont, will receive<span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span> -prompt attention. But if you prefer to come without -writing, uncle will be glad to see you at any time after -the receipt of this letter.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). What is the signature?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> There is none, but it is evidently a lady’s hand. -What do you think of it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I think I shall start for Ballardvale to-morrow.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> That’s a wise conclusion. You will be back by -Christmas, I doubt not. Probably by that time you -will have become a practical farmer.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>absently</i>). Time will show.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i>Sitting-room at <span class="smcap">Mr. Leighton’s</span>. Time, -evening. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Leighton</span>, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, <span class="smcap">Annie</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Frank</span>, -<span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, present. <span class="smcap">Frank</span> is dressed in a coarse suit. <span class="smcap">Mrs. -L.</span> is knitting.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Leighton.</span> Well, Mr. Forrester, how do you -like your first day’s experience on a farm?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Very much, indeed. But, you know, I have not -had any work to do yet. Mr. Leighton, unlike most -employers, has given me a vacation to start with.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> He wishes you to have a little time in which -to look around first.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Annie</span> (<i>smiling</i>). You find the hour for rising a -little earlier here than in the city, I suppose.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Yes, I do. This morning I was awakened by the -sound of a bell. I listened, wondering what could be -the matter. There were sounds from below, as if something -had happened. Doors were opened and shut<span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span> -hurriedly, and I could hear the voices of men outside. -I dressed as quickly as I could, and hurried downstairs. -But it appeared that nothing unusual had taken -place. Mrs. Leighton was getting breakfast, and you -were laying the table. I glanced up at the clock, and -saw that it was a quarter past four o’clock (<i>smiling</i>),—about -four hours earlier than I have been accustomed to -rise. Then it occurred to me that people living on farms -are obliged to get up early.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> Yes, my mother used to say that an hour -in the morning was worth three later in the day. But -did you rest well, Mr. Forrester?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Oh yes, very well.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> When I pass the night in the city I can’t -sleep, there is so much noise. But last summer a lady -who was visiting here could not sleep because <i>she missed -the noise</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> There is a great deal in habit. (<i>A pause.</i>) By -the way, I said that I had done no work to-day. I forgot -to mention that I had accomplished a feat which I -never attempted before.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> What was that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I unharnessed the horse.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> How did you succeed?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> I got the harness off, but not very scientifically, -I’m afraid, for I heard Mike tell Jerry that that city -chap was the curiousest feller he ever see, for he unfastened -every buckle that was in the harness, and then -left it in a heap on the floor.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). I think that’s a little worse than I -should do, for I believe I should endeavor to hang the -harness up.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> To tell the truth, I thought of doing so, but there -were so many small pieces that it was impossible. If -I had found a basket near, I should have gathered them -up and put them in that.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> That would be a novel method of disposing -of it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> I expect, Mr. Forrester, that you are one -of those students who don’t know much about anything -but books.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> At all events I find, in looking around me, that -I don’t know much about farming. But there’s one -good feature in the case: I am anxious to learn.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> Oh, I haven’t any doubt but you’ll make -quite a farmer yet!</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.’s</span> sitting-room. Enter <span class="smcap">Frank</span> and -<span class="smcap">Annie</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, wearing their hats. <span class="smcap">Frank</span> is carrying a -basket of grapes (or some other kind of fruit). They -take off their hats, and <span class="smcap">Frank</span> lays both on the table. -<span class="smcap">Annie</span> seats herself, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Frank</span> brings a chair and -sits near her, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>taking up the basket</i>). Now I feel like treating -myself and you. Here are some tempting clusters.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Annie</span> spreads a clean napkin over her dress, while<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span> -<span class="smcap">Frank</span> places the grapes upon it. They sit for a -moment eating the fruit.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> (<i>entering, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>). So you have got back again. -I was wondering what kept you so long.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Congratulate me, Aunt Lucy. Annie has -promised to marry me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> That accounts for your being gone so long. -I thought you couldn’t be all this time getting a few -grapes. But I’m very glad for you, and think you have -both chosen wisely.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>slyly glancing at his companion</i>). Perhaps you -wouldn’t think it, but Annie offered to pay me for -doing it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>with mock indignation</i>). Why, Franklin -Forrester!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Didn’t you offer me a penny for my thoughts? -And haven’t I been thinking of this very thing for the -last three months? (<i>Turning to <span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span></i>) But I -indignantly refused to receive the money.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. L.</span> (<i>benignantly</i>). Don’t be foolish, children. -Come out now—supper is ready.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="smcap">Mrs. -L.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>gently detaining <span class="smcap">Annie</span>, who is about to follow her -aunt</i>).—Wait a moment, Annie, I have a disclosure to -make. My name is not Frank Forrester, but Franklin -Webster.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> What! Benjamin Franklin Webster, who lives -on Marlborough street?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Yes.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Then you are the Mr. Webster that I have -heard Edwin Aldrich speak of.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). Are you acquainted with him?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> Oh, yes, he’s my cousin.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Your cousin? The young reprobate! Excuse -me, but he was the very person who suggested the idea -of my coming here. I believe he planned the whole -affair.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> I think you are mistaken there; for Uncle -William had no thought of hiring another person till he -saw your advertisement.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Well, of course Ed knew about it when he saw Mr. -Leighton’s letter in reply to the advertisement. But, as I -was saying, I had the misfortune to lose my parents when -quite young, and thereby became heir to a large amount -of property. As I grew up to manhood, my society -was sought after by all the marriageable young ladies -and managing mammas. I determined to find someone -who would love me for myself alone; so I came out -here, and found my wishes realized. Can you forgive -me, Annie?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> What! for coming out here, and wishing to -marry me? Yes, I’ll try to. But (<i>archly</i>) I, too, have -a confession to make. I also am possessed of property, -and came out here to Uncle William for the self-same -reason that you did. But I didn’t change my name. I -lived on the street beyond you, in the city. But it seems -we were obliged to go a hundred miles from home to -become acquainted.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span></p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Edwin</span> enters <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, <span class="smcap">Frank</span> and <span class="smcap">Annie</span> start up in -surprise.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Edwin.</span> Look here, supper’s been ready this half -hour, and the biscuits are nearly cold already.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>interrupting</i>). Why, Cousin Ed, when did you -arrive?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Look here, you villain! You planned this affair!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>striking an attitude and speaking in a melancholy -tone</i>). He calls me a villain for being the means of -making him happy. Annie, if I were you, I’d release -him from the engagement at once.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). Come, Edwin, you haven’t told me -when you arrived.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> I have been here two hours.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> (<i>in a comico-threatening manner</i>). Tell me, sir, -did you not plan this whole affair?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>more seriously</i>). No, I knew nothing of it till I -read the letter in reply to the advertisement. I then -recognized the handwriting, and in that way discovered -that Annie was stopping here. I felt sure that you -would be pleased with one another, and would both pass -a pleasant summer, if nothing more came of it. Yesterday -was the first day of my vacation, and I thought -it time to be looking after you. But aunt tells me you -are engaged.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F.</span> Yes, and I feel amply repaid for coming so far, -and for working three months on a farm, in order to -secure a wife to my mind. If any of my friends in the -city are troubled in the same way that I was, I shall recommend<span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span> -to them to try my remedy, trusting it may -produce the same gratifying results.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> And in that way I suppose they may expect to -get a good knowledge of “<i>Practical Husbandry</i>.”</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>All three bow, and Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="MR_SMITHS_DAY_AT_HOME">MR. SMITH’S DAY AT HOME.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Smith.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Smith.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Willie</span> (<i>five years old</i>).</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Ashton.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Miss Ashton.</span></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Bridget.</span></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Smith’s</span> parlor. Table in centre of -the room. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Smith</span> is engaged in reading a letter. -Her husband, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, is looking over the evening paper. He -lays it down.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Smith.</span> Well, Mrs. Smith, what is the news? -You look as sober as if you had lost all your friends.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Smith.</span> It is a serious matter. This letter informs -me that my sister Sarah is sick, and it is doubtful -if she recovers. I ought to go and see her, but I -am afraid I shall not be able to do so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Why, what is the difficulty? I see nothing -to prevent your going. I’m sure you haven’t much to -do. There are only three of us in the family, and -Bridget does all the work.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Yes, Bridget will do very well, if there’s -some one to look after her. But she isn’t one to be<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span> -depended upon. I shouldn’t dare to leave Willie with -her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> I think she would get along well enough.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I shouldn’t be willing to go under any such -circumstances.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Would you be any better satisfied if I -should stay at home and look after things?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Oh, yes, certainly. But could you leave -the office for a whole day?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> I think so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> Well, then, I will go on the first train to-morrow -morning.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> You needn’t hurry back. We shall get -along famously, I am sure; so you’d better stay till -the late train, if you have the least desire to.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> I should like to do so. That would give -me a nice long day there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>rising</i>). If you take the first train we must -be up betimes. What time do the cars leave here?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> At eight o’clock, I believe.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> I will go now and write a note to Mr. Ferguson, -saying I shall not be at the office to-morrow.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>sola</i>). This is a good chance for me. I -want very much to see Sarah. And then Mr. Smith is -constantly telling me that I can’t have much to do. It -will be a good thing for him to have a little experience -in house-keeping. I think one day’s trial will be sufficient -to satisfy him.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span></p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span> <i>Dining-room at <span class="smcap">Mr. Smith’s</span>.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Bridget</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R. C.</span> (<i>washing dishes</i>). An’ what’s -Misther Smith at home to-day for, I wonder? Didn’t -the missis think she left me enough to do, widout havin’ -him round? I was goin’ to invite Ann Malony to -come and pass the afthernoon and take tay wid me; but -how can I do it wid him spyin’ round?</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Mr. Smith</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Well, Bridget, we are left to keep house all -alone to-day.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>sullenly</i>). Yis, sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> What did Mrs. Smith say we were to have -for dinner?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Cold roast beef and rice puddin’; an’ I was to -make some hot biskit.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> It won’t take very long to do that, will it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>hoping for leave of absence after dinner</i>). No, -sir, I could do that much in an hour.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Well, Bridget, Mrs. Smith is to be away all -day, and I thought we’d clean the kitchen closet while -she’s gone, and so surprise her when she comes home.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> An’ d’ye think I’ll begin a big job like that while -she’s away? She always helps me at cleanin’-house -time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Oh, well, I’ll help you. I’ll take down the -dishes, and you can wash and wipe them, and wash out -the closet. Then I’ll help you put them back again.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Axin’ yer pardon, sir, I can’t do it.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> What! do you refuse to obey orders? (<i>Sarcastically.</i>) -I suppose you’ll expect to receive your -wages just the same.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Av coorse I shall. I never refuses to do anything -the <i>missis</i> requires, but I aint goin’ to be ordered -round <i>by a man</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> If you’re not willing to do what I tell you, -the sooner you find another place, the better.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>angrily</i>). I’m goin’ to lave the house this blessed -minnit, so I am. It’s Bridget McFinnigan that won’t -be imposed upon by the likes uv you, or any other man! -(<i>She takes off her apron hastily, throws it over a chair, -and leaves the room, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, full of indignation.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Well, I’m afraid I’ve got myself into trouble. -I’d better have waited till after dinner before speaking -about cleaning. But, as it seems I’ve got to do what I -can, alone, I might as well finish washing the breakfast -dishes. (<i>Takes <span class="smcap">Bridget’s</span> apron, and ties it on loosely. -He begins to wipe a plate, but it falls from his hands and -is broken.</i>) There goes a plate. I must go and throw -it into the stove, or Mrs. Smith will be twitting me about -breaking things. (<i>Goes to the next room, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, where a stove -is supposed to be, and leaves the broken plate. Returns -and commences washing dishes again.</i>) After all, there -isn’t much work about keeping house. It’s astonishing -how these women can employ all their time! Perhaps -it is better that Bridget left me as she did to-day, as -now I can show Mrs. Smith how easily housework may -be disposed of.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Willie</span> (<i>enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, with torn clothes, and rubbing -his eyes with his hands</i>). Ur-r-r-r, ur-r-r-r, (<i>louder</i>) -ur-r-r-r!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> What’s the matter? What’s the matter?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> (<i>crying</i>). Sammy Snow set his dog on to me, -and hurt me. Ur-r-r-r!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Well, be a brave boy, and don’t cry.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> (<i>crying</i>). Give me some raisins, and I won’t.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> I don’t know where mamma keeps them.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> I do; it’s in the kitchen closet.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Does mamma give them to you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> Sometimes, and sometimes I get them myself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Well, you can get a <i>very few</i>. Raisins are -not good for little boys.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> (<i>aside</i>). I guess I’ll have enough raisins this -time. (<i>Goes out, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> I ought to finish washing the dishes, but -perhaps I’d better see about dinner, first. Let me see. -We were to have rice pudding. I haven’t time to make -an elaborate pudding. I think I’ll just boil some rice. -That is always good.</p> - -<p>(<i>He goes toward the table, but steps on his apron and -falls. He reaches forward to take hold of the table, but, -instead, grasps the paper of rice, and both go on to the -floor, the rice scattering in all directions. He gets up, -rubbing his bruised arm, and looks ruefully at the scene -before him; just then <span class="smcap">Willie</span> comes in crying.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> There aint any raisins there, ur-r-r! Papa, -what was I crying for, ur-r-r!</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>coaxing him</i>). Don’t cry, Willie, but come -and help papa pick up this rice, and you shall have an -orange when I go to the store.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> I want it now.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> I haven’t got one now; but here’s an apple, -and I’ll give you an orange this afternoon. (<i><span class="smcap">Willie</span> -takes the apple. They gather up some of the rice, -leaving the greater part of it on the floor.</i>) I wonder how -much of this I ought to boil. There are only two of -us. I think a quart will be enough. (<i>Measures it.</i>) I -don’t know but it ought to be picked over. (<i>Looks at -watch.</i>) No, I shan’t have time. Of course it’s clean -enough; the floor is swept every day. (<i>Goes out, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, -with rice; returns.</i>) The next thing is biscuit. That’s -an easy matter. I have only to mix flour and water -together, and put it into the oven. (<i>Pours flour into a -pan, and adds water.</i>) I believe it is customary to -knead it well with the hands. (<i>Puts his hands in, and -stirs ingredients together. At that moment a ring is -heard at the door.</i>) I declare if that isn’t the door-bell. -But I shan’t answer it,—not if they ring a dozen -times.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> (<i>who has peeped out of the window, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>) Papa, it’s -the Ashtons! (<i>An aristocratic family who have never -before called on the <span class="smcap">Smiths.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Is it? (<i>Thinks for a moment; the bell rings -again.</i>) Willie, can’t you go to the door, and show the -ladies into the parlor? Then come out here, and I will -go in and see them. Stop a moment, your face isn’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span> -clean. (<i>The bell rings again.</i>) No matter; come here -and wipe it on my apron. Now go, like a good boy.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Willie</span> goes to answer the bell, but, being a little confused, -shows the visitors into the dining-room, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> <span class="smcap">Mrs.</span> -and <span class="smcap">Miss Ashton</span> look around the room and exchange -significant glances.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>discomposed, takes his hands out of the -dough, and wipes them on his apron</i>). Willie, why did -you bring the ladies into this room? I beg your -pardon, ladies; won’t you go into the parlor? I will be -in directly.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> (<i>superciliously</i>). Thank you; but we called -to see Mrs. Smith. Is she at home?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> No, she is not. Her sister is dangerously -ill, and has sent for her. She will be at home this evening.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Then we will call again (<i>significantly</i>), at -a more auspicious time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> I trust you will excuse my appearance. -Soon after Mrs. Smith was gone, the servant left me -and—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Ah, yes! I understand—Good morning! -(<i>Aside to her daughter.</i>) What a low family! I shall -not think of calling again.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>provoked</i>). Why didn’t you take those -ladies into the parlor, as I told you, Willie?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Willie</span> (<i>terrified</i>). I didn’t mean to, papa. Don’t -scold. I won’t do so again.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Well, see that you don’t. (<i>Soliloquizes.</i>)<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span> -I wonder if I ought to put this bread in another pan before -baking. I guess, however, this one will do just as -well. I’ve got dishes enough to wash already. I must -put this bread into the oven, and look after the rice. -It is fortunate we have some cold meat for dinner, as I -haven’t time to cook any. (<i>Goes out with bread; -returns.</i>) I must pile up those dishes and set the table -for dinner. Then I can wash all the dishes at once. -Who would think that that rice would have swelled so? -There is nearly a peck of it already, and it is still rising. -Half a cup full would have been enough. But, no -matter, we shan’t have to cook any again very soon. I -declare I must go and see to the bread; it must be done -by this time. (<i>Goes out; returns, and finishes setting -the table.</i>) The bread is all done. It didn’t rise much, -and, somehow, I can’t get it out of the pan, but it -seems to have baked well. Perhaps I ought to have -buttered the pan. (<i>Suddenly.</i>) There, I forgot to boil -some potatoes. Well, it can’t be helped. At all -events, we’ve got plenty of rice, and that must take its -place.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p>(<i>He brings in a small dish of meat, the pan of bread, -and afterwards an enormous soup tureen heaped up with -boiled rice. The tureen may be nearly filled up with any -other substance, and the rice placed on top, causing an -observer to think it is entirely filled with rice.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>goes to the door, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and calls</i>). Willie! -Willie! dinner is ready.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> (<i>entering</i>). I’m as hungry as a bear.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> Well, we’ve got plenty to eat. (<i>Helps him -to meat and rice.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> Isn’t there any potatoes?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> No, but here’s some bread. (<i>Tries to cut the -bread, but does not succeed. At that moment the door -opens, and <span class="smcap">Mrs. Smith</span> walks in, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> She glances at the -table, and bursts into a laugh.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> What <i>have</i> you got for dinner, Mr. Smith? -I think you must be fond of rice!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> (<i>rising</i>). Don’t say a word, my dear, don’t -say a word! I’ve had trials enough this morning -to drive a man crazy. Say anything you please about -the drudgery of housework, and I will agree with you. -I’ve had an experience this forenoon which I shall not -forget in a lifetime!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> If it causes you to be more considerate in -future, I shall not regret having left you. I think you -must have done something, judging from the appearance -of the room. (<i>Looks around.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. S.</span> And I suppose you think the prospect is, -that there is still something left to do. But as you have -got home so early, I think I’ll go down to the office -a while. I have a slight headache, and think a change -of scene would benefit me.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> (<i>rushing to door</i>). Don’t forget my orange, -papa.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_COUNTRY_COUSIN">THE COUNTRY COUSIN.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Atherton</span>,</td> - <td>Eunice’s Aunt.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Blanche</span>,</td> - <td>Mrs. A.’s Daughter.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Eunice Haynes</span>,</td> - <td>The Country Cousin.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Warner</span>,</td> - <td>A Visitor.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">A Servant, Guests, etc.</span></td> - <td></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. Atherton’s</span> drawing-room. <span class="smcap">Blanche</span>, -<span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and her mother, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, present.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Atherton.</span> Did you hear your father say we -were to expect a visitor to-day?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Blanche</span> (<i>surprised</i>). No, I heard nothing of it. -Who is it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> The daughter of his only sister, who married -a farmer in the little village of Donnellsville.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Do you know anything of her?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> No. They live at such a distance, that -there has been but little communication between the -two families. Your father met Mr. Haynes in the city -a few days ago, and invited him to send his daughter -here for a visit. This letter, which he has just received, -announces that she will be here to-day.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Do you know her name?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Eunice Haynes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> What a wretchedly countrified name! And -how unfortunate that she should come just at this time. -Next week, you know, we are to have our party, and -of course she will have to be present. I have no doubt -she is a country gawky, whose conversation will be -mostly of “aour caows,” and how much butter and -cheese we make.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> No doubt. I wonder that your father -should have invited her here until some of us had seen -her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> As to that, I don’t know how we should ever see -her unless she came here. It will be bad enough to receive -a visit from her, but it would be still worse for -us to visit them. I have no doubt they are genuine -rustics, who keep no servants, talk bad grammar, and -take their meals in the kitchen.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Very likely.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> And then I suppose her dresses will all be calico -or gingham, having all the colors of the rainbow. -No doubt she will select the gayest of them all for the -party. How disgusted I am at the thought of this -visit! I wish it were well over.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> So do I. But couldn’t you pass her off as -Isabel’s governess?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> No, that wouldn’t do at all. In fact, she probably -couldn’t sustain that character. Besides, papa -has such strange, out-of-the-way notions on such<span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span> -points, that I fear he would be angry if such a thing -were attempted.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Perhaps, after all, it may not be as bad as -you think, Blanche. We will wait patiently, and not -judge her till she arrives.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> And, by the way, you promised to go out with -me to select a dress for the party. We ought to go -now, I think. Otherwise we shall be obliged to invite -<i>our cousin</i> (<i>with emphasis</i>) to go with us.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>The curtain rising shows two chambers -formed by a curtain extending from front to back of -stage, it being necessary that both should be seen at -once. <span class="smcap">Servant</span> ushers <span class="smcap">Eunice</span>, who has just arrived, -into <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, one of them.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Servant.</span> This is the room you are to have, miss. -Mrs. Atherton and Miss Blanche have gone out, but -will be in soon.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Eunice.</span> Very well. (<i>Exeunt <span class="smcap">Servant</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> <span class="smcap">Eunice</span> takes -off bonnet and shawl, and lays them on the table. Afterward -takes up a book, sits down, and begins to read.</i>)</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. B.</span> and <span class="smcap">Blanche</span> enter the other chamber, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and -lay aside their outer garments.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> I wonder when our rustic friend will arrive? -(<i><span class="smcap">Eunice</span> looks and listens attentively.</i>) I am quite curious -to see her. I suppose she will begin by giving me an -account of all the household matters in particular, and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span> -farm-work in general. I can imagine her dressed in a -rainbow-colored costume, making a deep courtesy to you, -and giving a nod of recognition to your humble servant. -I dare say before night she will tell me confidentially -all about the country swain whom she most favors.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Why, Blanche, how you do run on! -Don’t, I beg of you, make her appear any more ridiculous -than she naturally is. And, above all things else, -pray don’t introduce the subject of cows.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> I’m sure I don’t see any harm in drawing her -out. It will be so amusing. I will invite her to go -shopping with me to-morrow, just to see how she will -stare in the windows. There will be a slight contrast -between our large and fashionable stores and the one -little variety store in her native village, where they sell -everything from a peck of potatoes to a silk dress.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> I should be too much mortified to do so. -But she may have arrived already. Let us go down -and see.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>astonished and amused</i>). Is it possible that my -aunt and cousin expect to find me so countrified? It -would be cruel in me to disappoint their expectations. -I have always been considered quite good at imitation, -and I have a great mind to personate, for a little while, -the character of a backwood’s maiden—for my amusement -as well us theirs. I must practise a little, first, -in order to carry it out well. (<i>Goes to mirror and -makes a low courtesy.</i>) Why, haow d’ye do, Aunt -Tildy? I’m proper glad to see ye. And haow d’ye<span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span> -do, Blanche? I’m dreadful tickled to meet ye. (<i>Turns -round smiling.</i>) I wonder how it would do to give her -what Charlie calls a “Down East hug.” They would -be fairly horrified, I think. But I will be governed by -circumstances, and go down to meet them without -further delay.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Goes out, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs A.’s</span> drawing-room. <span class="smcap">Eunice</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>looking round</i>). What! are they not here yet? -I supposed they were coming directly downstairs. -However, I will sit down and await their coming. Ah! -there they are now.</p> - -<p class="center">(<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> and <span class="smcap">Blanche</span> enter, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> (<i>coming forward</i>). I didn’t know you had -arrived, Eunice. I have just returned from—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>interrupting her by advancing and throwing her -arms around her neck</i>). Why, haow d’ye do, Aunt -Tildy? I’m proper glad to see ye. (<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> withdraws -from the embrace with a disgusted expression of countenance, -and smooths down her collar, which was disarranged -by it. <span class="smcap">E.</span> advances to <span class="smcap">Blanche</span>, who, fearing a -like salutation, takes a step backward, and holds out the -tips of her fingers to her cousin. <span class="smcap">E.</span> grasps them vigorously, -and, stepping forward, bestows a loud kiss upon her -cousin’s cheek. <span class="smcap">Blanche</span>, with a slight frown, takes -her handkerchief and wipes it off.</i>) How d’ye do, Cousin -Blanche? I’m dreadful tickled to meet ye.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). And I am glad to make your acquaintance, -Eunice. When did you leave home?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> Day before yesterday.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> You must be quite fatigued (<i><span class="smcap">E.</span> stares</i>)—tired, -perhaps I should say—with your journey.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> No; I aint tired a mite.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Were you ever in the city before?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> I guess not. I don’t remember it if I was. It -looks queer enough to see the houses crowded so thick -together. And I haven’t seen a barn since I came. I -suppose, though, they’re all in back of the houses; but -then I don’t see how folks get their caows in and out. -I s’pose they pastur’ ’em on the common.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Oh, no, they wouldn’t be allowed in any of the -parks. It is too thickly settled here for any one to -keep cows.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> You don’t mean to say that you have to buy all -your butter! It must cost a sight. Why, if I’d a’ -known it, I’d have brought you a mess. We churned -the day before I came away, and the butter came tip-top.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> quietly leaves the room, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>noticing her aunt’s exit</i>). I s’pose your mother’s -gone out to get tea. If you want to help her, don’t let -me hinder you. And if there’s anything that I can do, -jest let me know, for I’d just as lieves help as not.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Thank you, but there’s no need. We leave that -for the servants.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> How many helps do you keep?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> There are four, I believe.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> And how many have you in family?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). Four persons.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>in assumed amazement</i>). Well, that beats all -that ever I heard. What do they all do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> We have a cook, housemaid, chambermaid, and -seamstress, and they all seem to find enough to occupy -their time.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Bell rings.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> What’s that bell for?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>rising</i>). That is to call us to dinner.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>rising</i>). What, dinner at six o’clock! At home -we have dinner at twelve, and supper at five. And you -ought to see our bell! Why, you can hear it most half -a mile. We have it to call the men from the field to -their meals.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.’s</span> drawing-room. <span class="smcap">Blanche</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, -and her mother, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, engaged in crocheting or other fancy -work.</i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Well, ma, what do you think now? Isn’t Eunice -the most countrified specimen you ever saw?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> I must admit that she is decidedly rustic.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> But did you notice the blunders she made at -dinner?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> I saw that she ate with her knife, and -didn’t use her napkin.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>much amused</i>). That reminds me that when I -took my napkin from the ring, she asked me if I used -a towel in my lap because I was afraid of spoiling my<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span> -dress. She also said that, at home, the younger children -wore bibs, and she wondered we didn’t put one on -to Isabel. (<i>Greatly amused.</i>) Imagine Isabel,—a girl -nine years old, with a bib on!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> I’m afraid she wouldn’t submit to it very -quietly.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Then she took butter from the plate with her -own knife, and when pa asked her if she would have -more of the meat, she said, “No; I’ve had enough for -this time.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> I think your father must have noticed her -awkwardness.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> I don’t see how he could help it. But he would -not allow her to see that he noticed it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> What did she say to the piano? I heard -you playing for her.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>laughing</i>). She thought it was a queer-looking -thing, and said it must be hard to work it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> Where is she now?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> She has retired. She said she always went to -bed as soon as it grew dark. I should think she had -been living in the woods all her life.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> And yet, with all her blunders, she is quite -pretty, and dresses with a good deal of taste.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> That is true. And yet, with such an ignorance -of conventional rules, what sort of a figure will she -make at our party?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. A.</span> You will have to make the best of it, and -hint to any one that you may introduce to her that she -is a country cousin.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span></p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene V.</span>—<i>The same. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Atherton</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L. C.</span>, -<span class="smcap">Blanche</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, <span class="smcap">Eunice</span>, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Mr. Warner</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, -present. Also other guests conversing in groups. -<span class="smcap">Eunice</span> dressed in white, with a few simple flowers in -her hair. <span class="smcap">Blanche</span> dressed richly.</i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>beckoning to <span class="smcap">Mr. W.</span>, who comes to her, and speaking -in a low but audible tone</i>). Mr. Warner, I wish to -introduce you to a cousin of mine, a rustic damsel, who -has never been to the city before. She is fresh from the -country, and I doubt not you will be greatly amused by -her conversation. There she is near the piano.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Warner</span> (<i>surprised</i>). What, that young lady -so tastefully dressed! It cannot be! You are surely -joking, Miss Atherton.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). You will discover by her conversation -that I have spoken truly. But here we are.—Mr. -Warner desires the honor of an introduction, Cousin -Eunice. Miss Haynes—Mr. Warner.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Blanche</span> retires to another part of the stage, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> -<span class="smcap">Eunice</span> bows without any show of embarrassment.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. W.</span> Have you been long in the city, Miss -Haynes?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> But a few days.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. W.</span> And how do you enjoy it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> You will perhaps laugh at my lack of taste, when -I say that, in my judgment, it does not compare favorably -with the country. City life is too artificial to -satisfy me.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. W.</span> And yet city life has many advantages -which you probably do not get in the country,—lectures, -concerts, and the opera, for example.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> I confess these are advantages which I should -be glad to enjoy, and should fully appreciate. In these -latter days, however, most of the lectures are reported -in the papers.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. W.</span> Yes, but in reading them one does not get -the full enjoyment that is had in hearing them delivered.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> That is true. It is also a great deprivation not -to be able to hear the great singers of the day.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. W.</span> Then you are fond of music?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> I am very fond of it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. W.</span> Do you play?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> A little, sometimes, for my own amusement.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. W.</span> Then let me beg a favor of you. There is -a pause in the conversation and music is called for. -Allow me to lead you to the piano.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> I will play if you wish it, but I fear you will be -disappointed.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mr. W.</span> conducts her to the piano, <span class="allsmcap">R. C.</span>, to <span class="smcap">Blanche’s</span> -great astonishment. Guests look on and listen with interest. -<span class="smcap">E.</span> plays a short prelude, and sings in a clear, sweet -voice, which excites general admiration, the following -song:</i>)</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“I do not love the crowded street</div> - <div class="verse indent2">With all its varied show,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Through which a sea of human forms</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Keeps heaving to and fro.</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span> - <div class="verse indent0">My spirit yearns for fairer scenes,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">For bird, and flower, and tree;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">I cannot bid farewell to these,—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A country life for me!</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“The bird has sought his last year’s nest</div> - <div class="verse indent2">Within the fairy dell;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">The squirrel in the greenwood hides,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">His haunts I know full well;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Along the meadows flower-bestrewn,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">I hear the humming-bee;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">I cannot live apart from these,—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A country life for me!</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“’Twas there I roved in years gone by</div> - <div class="verse indent2">With careless step and fleet,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">And scarcely deigned to pluck the flowers</div> - <div class="verse indent2">That blossomed at my feet.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">O golden time of childhood’s prime,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">When life was blithe and free,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">Thy memory lingers in my heart,—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A country life for me!</div> - </div> - <div class="stanza"> - <div class="verse indent0">“I love to climb the steep hillside,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">And catch the sun’s first glow,</div> - <div class="verse indent0">When, rising from his watery couch,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">He gilds the waves below.</div> - <div class="verse indent0">My spirit yearns for fairer scenes,</div> - <div class="verse indent2">For bird, and flower, and tree;</div> - <div class="verse indent0">I cannot live apart from these,—</div> - <div class="verse indent2">A country life for me!”</div> - </div> -</div> -</div> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span></p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene VI.</span>—<i>Drawing-room after the guests have left. -<span class="smcap">Blanche</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Eunice</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, present.</i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">B.</span> Do tell me, Eunice, what this means. I am <i>so</i> -curious to have it explained.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> So I supposed. But confess the truth, Blanche. -Didn’t you think me a genuine rustic, very ignorant, -and quite countrified?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> I certainly did, but you surely gave me reason. -I give you credit for acting your part well. But what -induced you to take upon yourself such a character?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> I was afraid of disappointing you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). Disappointing me?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). Yes. The day of my arrival I was -shown by the servant into the room provided for me. -I had scarcely laid aside my bonnet and shawl when -you and Aunt Matilda came into the chamber adjoining -mine. Unintentionally I overheard you conversing of -me. You both had the impression that, as I lived in -the country, I must be ignorant and uncultivated. I -therefore decided to continue the illusion for a short -time. When the party came off, it seemed a fitting -time for me to appear in my true character.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">B.</span> I am glad that you are not what you seemed. -I was almost overcome by your vigorous salute, and -your talk about pasturing cows in the parks, and so -on; and I feared that you might introduce these topics -as the subjects of your conversation at the party.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> Fortunately no such mishap occurred, and since -you prefer me in my present character, I will still retain -it, trusting that you may never again have cause to be -disturbed at the rusticity of your Country Cousin.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="TAKING_POISON">TAKING POISON.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Lewis Fisher</span>,</td> - <td>A very Nervous Man.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Susan Fisher</span>,</td> - <td>His Wife.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Miss Helen Fisher</span>,</td> - <td>His Sister.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Dr. Gibbs</span>,</td> - <td>Physician.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mary</span>,</td> - <td>Servant.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene.</span>—<i>Parlor at <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fisher’s</span>. <span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> comes in, -and sinks into a chair, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. Fisher.</span> How weak I am! I wonder what can be -the matter? (<i>Presses his hand first on one cheek, and -then the other.</i>) I think I’m a little feverish. (<i>Coughs as -if it pained him.</i>) And then this cough; I’m sure my -lungs must be affected. But then that’s no wonder, for -most of our family died of consumption, and I dare say -I shall go in the same way. (<i>Petulantly.</i>) I wonder -where Susan is; she’s always gone when I want her. -(<i>Rings the bell; servant enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>) Mary, where is -Mrs. Fisher?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary.</span> She went an hour ago, sir. Your sister, -Miss Helen, came for her to go shopping, and the two -of them went out then.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> (<i>sighing, and leaning back in his chair</i>). Did -she say what time she would be back?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> She did not, then. May be they won’t be home -till dark.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> I shall be sick in bed before that time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Couldn’t I do something for you, sir?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> (<i>shaking his head mournfully</i>). No. (<i>A -pause.</i>) Do you know where Mrs. Fisher keeps the -cough drops?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> I do not, sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> Well, then, it’s no matter. I’ll wait till she -comes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Very well, sir.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Mary</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> leans back in his chair, and rocks for a few -moments with closed eyes. He then opens his eyes, and -rises slowly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> It must be that Susan keeps the cough mixture -in the closet. I’ll see. (<i>Goes to closet, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and returns, -bringing a bottle, having no label on it, with him.</i>) Yes, -here it is. I will take a teaspoonful. (<i>He takes a -spoon from the table, and filling it carefully, swallows -the contents.</i>) I hope that will make me feel better. -(<i>Sits down again in the rocking-chair.</i>) I don’t see -what keeps Susan away so long. It always was a -mystery to me how women could enjoy shopping as -they do. (<i>Begins to cough.</i>) I believe I’ll go into the -dining-room and get some water. (<i>Goes out, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>; enter -<span class="smcap">Mary</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> (<i>looking around</i>). So master’s gone out. It’ll do<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span> -him good, I’m thinking. Sure I don’t see how missis -gets along wid him, when he’s so fussy. (<i>Goes to closet, -<span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and after a short stop, returns and exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> <span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> -reappears, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, bearing a glass of water, which he places -on the table. He continues to cough.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> The water does not remove the irritation in -my throat. I must take some more of the drops. (<i>Goes -to closet, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and returns with a bottle; a label on it this -time. He gazes at the label, and starts back in terror.</i>) -What’s this? Poison? And I’ve already taken a spoonful -of it! That was what made me feel so strangely. -Oh, I’m a doomed man! (<i>He rings the bell violently, -and sinks into a chair. <span class="smcap">Mary</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Oh, lor sakes, what makes you look so pale, sir?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). I’ve taken poison, Mary. I -feel a pain in my side, already. Why doesn’t Mrs. -Fisher come home? Oh, dear, what shall I do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Can’t I get you something to take, sir?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> (<i>impatiently</i>). Oh, no, no. I’ve taken too -much already. Nothing would help me now. I feel -the poison coursing through my veins already, and cold -chills are passing over me. Bring a blanket to cover -me, Mary. I hope I shan’t die before Susan comes.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mary</span> brings a pillow, which she places behind him, -and puts a blanket over his knees.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Don’t you feel a little better now, sir?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> (<i>with an injured look.</i>) Better! People don’t -usually feel better when they are dying. (<i>Sound of a bell -is heard outside.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Mrs. Fisher is come.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Mary</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and, in a -moment, enter <span class="smcap">Mrs. Fisher</span> and <span class="smcap">Helen</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Fisher</span> (<i>with solicitude; going toward her husband</i>). -Why, Lewis, what’s the matter? Are you -sick?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> Yes, Susan; not merely sick, but dying.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> (<i>perplexed</i>). What can you mean, Lewis? -You left home this morning apparently well, and, after -an hour’s absence, I return to find you nervous and -excited. You look sick, too. Do tell me what is the -cause.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> (<i>excited</i>). That I can very easily do. I was -sick—quite feverish—and had a bad cough, so I -thought I’d take some drops to relieve it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> That was right.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> I went to the closet, and took a spoonful, -and thought they helped me. So, in half an hour, I -went and got some more to take, when I noticed the -label on the bottle, and found that, instead of cough-drops, -I had been taking poison.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> O Lewis, how could you make such a mistake? -(<i>Clasping her hands.</i>) What shall we do?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Helen</span> (<i>coolly</i>). Send for the doctor, I should say, -if you haven’t both taken leave of your senses.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> Yes, send Mary for the doctor at once. -Why didn’t we think of it sooner?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> (<i>dismally</i>). It will do no good. Nothing -can be done now. I feel cold chills passing over me. -I shall not probably be alive when he reaches here. It -will only take up the little time there is left.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> I shall send Mary for the doctor, at all events.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> moans frequently. <span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> is occupied in -chafing his wrists. Suddenly <span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> speaks.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> Susan.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. S.</span> (<i>through her tears</i>). Well, Lewis.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> You’ve been a good wife to me, Susan.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> I’ve tried to be, Lewis.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> I’m glad you will be left in comfortable -circumstances at my death. I’ve left my whole property -to you. In my little black trunk you will find all my -valuable papers. Here is the key. (<i>Passes it to her.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> (<i>sobbing, but takes the key</i>). Don’t think of -such things, Lewis. You must live—for me. I’m -sure that the doctor can help you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> (<i>mournfully</i>). No, it’s too late—too late. -I would like to have lived longer, but I must submit to -my fate.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Dr. Gibbs</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. Gibbs</span> (<i>cheerily</i>). Well, my friend, what’s the -matter with you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> (<i>tragically</i>). Poison!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. G.</span> (<i>surprised</i>). What! Got tired of living, hey?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> (<i>wearily</i>). Tell him about it, Susan.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> It was a terrible mistake, doctor. He intended -to take some cough drops, but, instead, took -some laudanum.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. G.</span> (<i>feeling his pulse</i>). How do you feel?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> I feel cold chills passing over me, and it -seems us if a thousand needles were pricking my flesh; -and I have got a terrible headache.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. G.</span> But those are not the symptoms of poison. -How long is it since you took it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> More than an hour and a half ago.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. G.</span> I don’t believe it was poison at all. I see -no signs of it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> But I saw the label.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. G.</span> Let me see the bottle. (<i><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> brings the -bottle from closet, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> <span class="smcap">Dr. G</span>. smells of the mixture, and -then prepares to taste it.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> Oh, don’t taste it, doctor. It may be the -death of you too.</p> - -<p>(<i>The doctor lifts the bottle to his lips.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. G.</span> This is not poison. It is cough-drops, as I -expected. Moreover, it is some that I mixed myself, -and I know there’s no poison in it. But how came that -label on it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> I prepared the label just before I went -away, and told Mary to paste it on the bottle of -laudanum. But it seems she must have pasted it on the -wrong bottle.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). And haven’t I swallowed poison, -after all?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. G.</span> (<i>dryly</i>). Not unless you’ve taken it from -some other bottle.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. F.</span> How thankful I am that it was a mistake; -aren’t you, Lewis?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mr. F.</span> Indeed I am. (<i>A pause.</i>) By the way, -Susan, you might as well hand me back the key of the -little black trunk.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="DEACON_ROBINSONS_PRESENT">DEACON ROBINSON’S PRESENT.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Deacon Jonathan Robinson</span>,</td> - <td>Delegate to Political Convention.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Irene Robinson</span>,</td> - <td>His Wife.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Doctor Lewis Cummings</span>,</td> - <td>Physician of Rossville.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Chas. Herbert Fitz Howard</span>,</td> - <td>A Young Exquisite.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Landlord.</span></td> - <td></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">John.</span></td> - <td></td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Two Policemen.</span></td> - <td></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Deacon Robinson</span> is attired in a blue suit. The coat -is short-waisted, old-fashioned, and ornamented with -brass buttons. He wears a broad-brimmed beaver, far -from new. <span class="smcap">Charles Herbert Fitz Howard</span> is dressed -in the height of fashion, wearing a jaunty little hat on -the side of his head, and a suit of clothes cut in the most -fashionable style.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i>Office of a hotel. Table, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span> <span class="smcap">Landlord</span> present, -<span class="allsmcap">R. C.</span> Enter <span class="smcap">Deacon Robinson</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Landlord.</span> Good-evening, deacon.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. Robinson.</span> Good-evening. I’ve come down -from Morristown to ’tend the convention. I may be -here two or three days. Can you give me a room?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">L.</span> (<i>suavely</i>). Oh, yes, certainly; a nice room, too. -Will you order supper before going up stairs?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> Supper! No, indeed! It’s nine o’clock, -and I’m going to bed. Besides, I took supper afore I -left home.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">L.</span> But you’ll register your name, first? (<i>Passes pen -to him.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> (<i>takes from his pocket a tin case, which he -opens, takes therefrom a pair of spectacles, which he adjusts -upon his nose</i>). Wal, yes, I hain’t no objection. -(<i>Writes.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">L.</span> Here, John, take this lamp and show the gentleman -up to Number 33.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">John.</span> Yes, sir. (<i>Takes lamp and goes out, followed -by the <span class="smcap">Deacon</span>.</i>)</p> - -<p class="center">(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Charles Herbert Fitz Howard</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Fitz Howard.</span> Aw—I say—aw—can you give -me a good room?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">L.</span> Yes sir, directly. But, beg pardon, sir; perhaps -you’d like some supper first?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> Aw—yes, but I’ll go to my room first—aw, -and make my toilet—remove the dust and travel—aw.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">L.</span> Your name, sir! (<i>Offers pen.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> Aw—yes—I had forgotten. (<i>Looking at -pen—tries it.</i>) What a deuced poor pen! (<i>Enter -<span class="smcap">John</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">L.</span> Here is another. (<i>Offers it.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> (<i>takes it; gazes at book before him</i>). Deacon -Jonathan Robinson—aw. What a name! Not much<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span> -like the next one. (<i>Writes.</i>) Charles Herbert Fitz -Howard—aw.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Ain’t he a swell, though?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">L.</span> (<i>in a warning tone</i>). John.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Yes, sir.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">L.</span> Show this gentleman up to number 35.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Yes, sir. (<i>To <span class="smcap">Fitz Howard</span>.</i>) This way, sir.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exeunt, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>A bed-chamber. <span class="smcap">Deacon Robinson</span> is -seen, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, dressed in ruffled shirt and tightly fitting -pants. He surveys them meditatively.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> I don’t see but I’ve got to wear these -clothes, as long as the others are gone, for the convention -meets at nine, and I shan’t have much more’n -time to eat my breakfast. But it beats all where them -other clothes went to, and where these come from. -I declare, I never heard o’ such a thing in my born -days. (<i>He thinks a moment—his face brightens.</i>) -Yes, it must be—there’s no other way. Some of my -friends here in Rossville must ha’ clubbed together, and -bought me this new suit, knowing I was to be here to -the convention. But when could they ha’ brought them -in, and taken my others away, for I’ve had my door -locked ever since I came into the room? Oh, I remember -now, last night, when there was an alarm of fire, I -slipped on my overcoat, and went into the entry to see -where ’twas; but findin’ ’twas a false alarm, I came back<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span> -in less than ten minutes. They must ha’ been dreadful -spry to ha’ made the change so quick. (<i>Apprehensively—taking -up the coat.</i>) I’m afraid they’re too gay for -me, but I seem to be ’bleeged to wear ’em. (<i>Puts on -the vest.</i>) I wonder if the coat fits as well as the rest. -(<i>Puts it on and stands up before the glass, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> Complacently.</i>) -Well, it’s a complete fit, and it does really improve -me amazin’ly—makes me look a good deal -younger. The cloth seems good too. They must ha’ -cost a good deal. Really, my friends have been very -kind, but I do wish they’d brought a different hat. -(<i>Puts on the hat, which looks very jaunty for one of his -years.</i>) Perhaps I can exchange it to-morrow, but I’ve -got to wear it to-day, at any rate. There’s one thing I -haven’t thought of afore (<i>feeling in pockets</i>). I wonder -whether they thought to change things in the -pockets from the old to the new. There aint a single -thing in any of ’em. (<i>Irresolutely.</i>) And what shall I -do without money? (<i>Goes quickly to overcoat, and puts -his hand in pocket.</i>) Ah, here is the old wallet. -(<i>With a sigh of relief.</i>) Lucky for me I bought a newspaper -last evening, or that pocket-book would ha’ been -gone too. I must go down and see if I can hear anything -about the rest of the things.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span></p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i>The same. <span class="smcap">Fitz Howard</span> is seen, <span class="allsmcap">L. C.</span>, -sitting disconsolately with Deacon’s home-made shirt -and pants on.</i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> Well—aw—I’m sure, I don’t see what I’m -going to do. I never can go out on the street—aw—wearing -such wretched-looking clothes. (<i>Standing up -suddenly and gazing upon them.</i>) Why, they’re absolutely -horwid. It’s strange—aw—how anybody -could have been quick enough—aw—to change those -clothes in the five minutes I was out—aw—last night -at the alarm of fire. I should just like to get hold of -the thief—aw—that’s all. I guess—aw—he’d never -steal anything else. (<i>A pause. Emphatically.</i>) I -won’t wear this horwid-looking coat (<i>lifting it up.</i>) -What would Dick Hayes or Harwy Nichols say—aw—to -see me dressed in this style! I won’t wear the -shabby ole thing. (<i>Throws it to the other end of the room, -<span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>) I should feel—aw—as if I was my own grandfather. -And this horwid old hat. (<i>Takes it in his hand, -and with a kick sends it after the coat.</i>) Aw—I’ll ring -for the landlord. (<i>Rings furiously. <span class="smcap">John</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> Aw—where’s the landlord—aw?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> He’s gone away.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> When he comes back—aw—I want to see -him.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Yes, sir; but he may not be back till noon, but -I’ll tell him when he comes.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">John</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> (<i>solus</i>). Well—aw—there’s no help from<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span> -that quarter. I don’t see but I’ve got to come to it, -for if I don’t wear these clothes—aw—what shall I -wear? There isn’t any shop that sells ready-made -clothing that I’d be willing to wear—aw—and if there -was I haven’t money enough to spare to buy another -suit. (<i>Groaning.</i>) I don’t see but I <i>must</i> wear it. -(<i>Puts on vest and coat—looks in mirror.</i>) Oh, dear! -Aw—what a fright! And I was going to call on -Arabella Meade this morning. (<i>Puts on hat, which, being -a little too large for him, settles down on the back side -of his head. He paces back and forth, looking down.</i>) -But there’s no use in my going there to-day. The -servants would take me—aw—for a ragamuffin, and -thrust me out of the house—aw—if I attempted to -enter it. I suppose I shall have to go down in this -costume—aw—and see if I cannot find some clue to -my own clothes—aw.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span>—<i>Parlor of the hotel. <span class="smcap">Deacon Robinson</span>, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, -looking over morning paper. Enter <span class="smcap">Dr. Cummings</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, -who does not recognize the occupant of the room. Deacon -Robinson advances to meet him warmly.</i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> (<i>cordially</i>). How do you do, Dr. Cummings?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. C.</span> (<i>distantly</i>). Really, sir, you have the advantage -of me!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> What, don’t you recognize me? You’ve<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span> -known me for the last twenty-five years. I’m Deacon -Jonathan Robinson, of Morristown.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. C.</span> Why, bless my soul, so you are! But, good -gracious, deacon, what possessed you to dress in this -strange way?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> Strange?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. C.</span> (<i>sternly</i>). Yes. I consider it discreditable -to one of your years, sobriety, and position in the -community, to make such a popinjay of yourself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> (<i>uncomfortably</i>). But it isn’t my doings.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. C.</span> Isn’t your doings? Then whose is it? I -don’t understand it. Surely Mrs. Robinson doesn’t -countenance such folly!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> She doesn’t know anything about it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. C.</span> No; I thought not.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> (<i>a little vexed</i>). If you won’t be in such a -hurry, Dr. Cummings, I’ll explain it all. You see I -came over to Rossville last evening and put up here. I -went to bed early, but about midnight there was a cry -of fire. I slipped on my overcoat, and went into the -entry to learn whether it was near by. In a few minutes -I heard that it was a false alarm. I hurried back to my -room, which I couldn’t have been out of more’n ten minutes, -and locked my door. Then I went to bed and to -sleep. When I waked in the morning my old clothes, -which have done me such faithful service, were gone, -and these were left in their place.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. C.</span> How do you suppose they came there?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> It is my opinion that my friends in Rossville,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span> -knowing that I was to attend a convention, took -this way of presenting me with a new and fashionable -suit of clothes.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. C.</span> (<i>shaking his head</i>). It’s a strange story.</p> - -<p>(<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Mrs. R.</span> <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> She starts back, surprised at the -appearance of her husband.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. Robinson</span> (<i>sharply</i>). I should like to know, -Deacon Robinson, what has put it into your head to -dress in this ridiculous style; you, a man most sixty -years old!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> I’m only fifty-eight.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. R.</span> And you dress as if you were eighteen. -You refuse me a silk dress, and then go and squander -your money on this foolish rig. I should think you had -gone stark, staring mad.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> (<i>anxiously</i>). Stop, Reeny, I’ll explain it all. -My friends in Rossville came and brought me this suit -in the night.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. R.</span> (<i>contemptuously</i>). Fiddlestick! Do you -expect me to believe that ridiculous story? I’m really -afraid you’ve been drinking. Nothing else could ha’ -brought you to make such a fool of yourself.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). Mrs. Robinson, I command you -to be silent. It’s you that are makin’ a fool o’ yourself, -I’d have you to know. It’s enough for you to -think of your own dress, and not interfere with mine.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. R.</span> (<i>wringing her hands</i>). O Jonathan, is this -the way you speak to me, who’ve been a faithful wife -to you for more than thirty years?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span></p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Fitz Howard</span>, clad in the <span class="smcap">Deacon’s</span> old-fashioned -garments, bursts into the room, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and rushes up to <span class="smcap">Dea. -R.</span>, assuming a belligerent attitude.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> So you’re the thief—aw—you rascal—</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. C.</span> (<i>rising and coming forward</i>). What does this -mean?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> (<i>gesticulating violently</i>). It means—aw—that -this fellah has run off with my clothes—a hundred-dollar -suit, and left—aw—this worthless rubbish -(<i>extending his arms as if to show the clothes</i>) in its -place. (<i>In a loud tone.</i>) Help! Police—aw—where’s -the police?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. R.</span> (<i>indignantly</i>). O Jonathan, have you -brought disgrace upon your innocent wife and family -by this strange conduct?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. C.</span> (<i>in tones of horror</i>). O Deacon!</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> Hear me; hear me. There’s some strange -mistake.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> There’s no mistake about it. Bring the -police.</p> - -<p>(<i>Police enter, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, and endeavor to handcuff him. <span class="smcap">Dea. -R.</span> struggles furiously.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> I won’t go to jail. Call the landlord.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. R.</span> (<i>earnestly</i>). Yes; call the landlord. Perhaps -he can explain about it.</p> - -<p>(<i>One of the policemen goes out, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, and immediately returns -with the Landlord.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> This man—aw—has stolen my clothes, and -I demand his arrest.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> Well, landlord, you’ve known me a good -many years. Do you think I should be likely to steal -now—at my age?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">L.</span> Impossible; there must be some mistake.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> But there can’t be any mistake; don’t you -see—aw—he’s got on my clothes, and I his?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">L.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). Yes; but if he intended to steal them -he wouldn’t come in, and sit quietly in the parlor with -the garments on. But I haven’t heard how it came -about. Did either of you leave your room last night?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> I only left it for five minutes—aw—when -the alarm of fire was raised—aw—and this morning -when I waked—aw—my new suit was changed into -these horwid things. (<i>Glances with contempt upon them.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">L.</span> (<i>to <span class="smcap">Deacon</span></i>). And did you leave your room, too?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R</span>. Yes; but only long enough to go into the -entry and back again.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">L.</span> I see how it is; your rooms were side by side. -You both left them, and when you returned, you each -went into the other’s room. That accounts for the -change of clothing. (<i>One policeman beckons to the other, -and they go out, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> By George, that must ha’ been the way -’twas done. But I declare to goodness, I never should -ha’ thought about it. (<i>To <span class="smcap">Landlord</span>.</i>) Thank you, -landlord, for gettin’ me out o’ this scrape. (<i>To <span class="smcap">Fitz -Howard</span>.</i>) And look here, young man, suppose we just -go up stairs and swap clothes again. I guess these -aint any more becomin’ to me than them are to you.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">F. H.</span> You’re right there—aw—old man. (<i>Exeunt -<span class="smcap">Dea. R.</span> and <span class="smcap">F. H.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mrs. R.</span> Well, I thank goodness things have turned -out as they have. I wouldn’t ha’ had Jonathan gone -to the convention in that rig for nothin’ in the world.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dr. C.</span> (<i>sarcastically</i>). Not even if they had been a -present to him from his friends in Rossville!</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="MRS_MARDENS_LESSON">MRS. MARDEN’S LESSON.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. John Marden</span>,</td> - <td>A clerk,</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mrs. Mary Marden</span>,</td> - <td>His Wife.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Mr. Edwin Hastings</span>,</td> - <td>His Friend.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Aunt Rebecca</span>,</td> - <td>Mrs. Marden’s Aunt.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Servant.</span></td> - <td></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i>Sitting-room at <span class="smcap">Mr. Marden’s</span>. <span class="smcap">Mrs. Marden</span>, -present, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">John</span> (<i>entering room, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, with boots in his hand</i>). It’s -most time for me to go to the store, Mary. (<i>Sits down, -<span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, and puts on boots.</i>) I declare it’s astonishing how -soon eight o’clock comes these short mornings.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mary</span> (<i>who is dusting the room</i>). It brings to mind -the mornings, in the days gone by, when you were -obliged to go to school, I suppose.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Yes; and I can’t say I enjoy one any more than -the other. It’s about as disagreeable as leaving a nice, -cosey fire on a winter’s night and getting into a cold -bed.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> But then I think one appreciates his home more, -and enjoys the time he is able to pass in it more fully, -than if he remained at home.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Perhaps you are right, Mary; but I shouldn’t -object to try the other way for awhile. (<i>Tosses slippers -under the sofa.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> John, dear, hadn’t you better put your slippers -in their place?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Oh, we’ll consider this their place. Then I -shan’t have to go searching after them to-night.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> There won’t be any need of <i>searching</i> for them. -If you put them where they belong, they will be sure to -remain there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> But it’s a great bother to go out of one’s way for -such trifles. They’re much handier lying there, and -will be all ready for me to put on to-night.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> But life is made up of trifles, and leaving things -round clutters up the room so.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Why, no; a thing looks as well in one place as -another. Besides, what’s the use of having a house if -you can’t keep things where you want to? But there -(<i>pushing them still farther under the sofa with his foot</i>), -they’re out of sight now. They will be handy, and no -one will be the wiser for their being there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> But I have to go around every day and pick -things up after you.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Oh, well, don’t pick them up; just let them stay -where they are, and then I can find them when I want -them. (<i>Takes up overcoat from chair, where he had left it<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span> -on previous evening, puts it on, takes hat from table, and -exit, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> (<i>alone</i>). Something must be done to cure John -of this careless habit of leaving things around; but how -it can be arranged, I cannot tell yet. I must think it -over.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>The same. Room in disorder. Two hats -on the piano, a vest on the table, and two coats on as -many chairs. A dressing-gown thrown carelessly on the -sofa, and slippers on the floor near them. <span class="smcap">Aunt Rebecca</span> -and <span class="smcap">Mary</span> enter, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Aunt Rebecca.</span> And you have married since I saw -you last; married happily, I hope. (<i>They sit down, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Yes; I couldn’t wish for a kinder or pleasanter -husband. But between you and me, Aunt Rebecca, he -has one fault that distresses me exceedingly.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> And what is that?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> He is so careless about his things. You have -only to look about you, and you will see at once what I -mean. I haven’t been in this room until now since he -went to the store this morning. There are (<i>looking at -each as she speaks</i>) two hats, two coats, dressing-gown, -vest and slippers lying around. He is in such a hurry -when he goes away, that he doesn’t notice anything -about it, and when he comes home, I have put them all -in their places, so I don’t think he realizes what an untidy -appearance the room presents.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> That <i>is</i> rather a disagreeable habit. Have -you spoken to him about it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> (<i>laughing</i>). Spoken? Yes; I’ve delivered whole -lectures on the subject.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> And what does he say?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Oh, he makes light of it, and manages to change -the subject whenever it is brought up. I don’t like to -spoil the peace of our cosey home by scolding, but I feel -as if something must be done.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> I see how it is, Mary. You must declare -war.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> (<i>looking up surprised</i>). In what way?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> I haven’t fully matured a plan yet, but we -will open the campaign to-night, and, my word for it, if -you follow my directions, you will come off victorious.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> I am filled with curiosity to know how it is all to -come about.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Servant</span> (<i>entering, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>) A littir for you, ma’am. -(<i>Passes letter to <span class="smcap">M.</span> and exit, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> <span class="smcap">Mary</span> reads the -letter.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> It is a line from John, saying that he will bring -his friend, Mr. Hastings, home to dine with us. I suppose -he thought it possible I might be out.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> What kind of a man is Mr. Hastings?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Very pleasant indeed, and as fond of a good -joke as any one I know of. He and John are great -friends.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> Then it will be just the time for us to open -the campaign.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> You have it all arranged, then?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">A. R.</span> Yes; draw your chair this way, and I will -explain it to you. (<i><span class="smcap">Mary</span> moves near <span class="smcap">A. R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i>Room in confusion. Slippers under the -sofa, coats on chairs, two of <span class="smcap">Mary’s</span> dresses on sofa, -and her shawl and bonnet on <span class="smcap">John’s</span> arm-chair. Two -of <span class="smcap">John’s</span> hats on table. <span class="smcap">Mary</span> crocheting, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> <span class="smcap">John</span> -and <span class="smcap">Edwin Hastings</span> enter, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">John</span> (<i>glancing in surprise, first around the room, then -at his wife</i>). What! house-cleaning, Mary?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Oh, no. (<i>Turns to greet his companion.</i>) I’m -glad to see you, Mr. Hastings. Sit down, do. (<i>Takes -coat from chair, and tosses it carelessly on sofa.</i>) You -haven’t been here for a long time.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Edwin</span> (<i>looking round with an amused smile</i>). It <i>is</i> -a long time for me to be away.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>taking <span class="smcap">M.’s</span> shawl and bonnet from easy-chair</i>.) -Say, Mary, what shall I do with these dry-goods?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Oh, lay them on the table.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> But there isn’t room.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Isn’t there? Well, put them on the piano.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> But I was just going to open it, so that we might -have some music.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Well, put them on the sofa, then. There’s certainly -room enough there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> But some one may sit on them there.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> I guess not.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>glancing uneasily around</i>). Hadn’t you better -pick up things a little, Mary?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> (<i>carelessly</i>). Oh, no, just let them lie as they are.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> But they look so bad. And you know we frequently -have callers in the evening.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Oh, they don’t look bad. I don’t see but a thing -looks as well in one place as another.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I never saw your room look like this before, -Mary.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> (<i>apparently surprised</i>). Didn’t you? But I -thought we might as well keep things handy. What’s -the use of having a house, if you can’t keep things where -you want to?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Oh, that’s it. So you’re giving an imitation of -me, are you?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). I’ve tried to. But don’t you like it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> No, I don’t; that’s a fact.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">M.</span> Well, then, if you’ll agree not to do so again, -I’ll straighten up the room; but if you have a relapse, -mind, I shall have one, too.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Oh, I shan’t; don’t fear. If I’m in danger of it, -the recollection of this scene will bring me back to the -paths of rectitude.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> (<i>coming forward, and bowing with mock deference</i>). -I congratulate you, on the success of your -scheme, Mrs. Marden, and have no doubt it will prove -efficacious. It is worth a dozen scoldings, and is a far -more agreeable remedy.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>exultantly</i>). I rather think it touches you a little, -old fellow, too, judging from the appearance of your -bachelor apartments when I have called there.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">E.</span> I am sure of that, and have taken a part of it to -myself already. When next you come to my rooms, -you will, without doubt, be struck with the transformation, -and will perceive at once, that I, as well as yourself -have profited by Mrs. Marden’s lesson.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop" /> - -<div class="chapter"> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span></p> - -<h2 class="nobreak" id="THE_MAGIC_MIRROR">THE MAGIC MIRROR.</h2> - -</div> - -<h3>CHARACTERS.</h3> - -<table summary="List of characters"> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Madame Devineresse</span>,</td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="2" class="valign">Fortune-tellers.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Madame Marie</span>,</td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Tom</span>, <span class="smcap">Dick</span>, <span class="smcap">Harry</span>,</td> - <td>⎫</td> - <td rowspan="2" class="valign">School-boys.</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Walter</span>, <span class="smcap">Joe</span>, <span class="smcap">Nat</span>,</td> - <td>⎭</td> - </tr> - <tr> - <td><span class="smcap">Faustina</span>,</td> - <td></td> - <td>A Little Servant.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene I.</span>—<i>Room at a country boarding-school. <span class="smcap">Harry</span>, -<span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, <span class="smcap">Tom</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R. C.</span>, and <span class="smcap">Walter</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, present. Enter -<span class="smcap">Dick</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> He advances to <span class="allsmcap">L. C.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Harry.</span> Hallo, Dick, what’s up?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dick</span> (<i>with a significant smile</i>). Who says anything’s -up?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> There is, I know there is; I can tell it by your -looks. Come, tell us, like a good fellow.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> You must have a very vivid imagination to suppose -one of my dignity (<i>straightening himself up</i>) would -descend to such trifles.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Tom.</span> One of <i>your</i> dignity! That’s a good one. But -come now, Dick, do tell us if anything is going on. -It’s been the perfection of dulness here for the last -three weeks. Any change would be welcome.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> (<i>dryly</i>). Does your last remark refer to your -pockets, or some other part of your habiliments?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">T.</span> (<i>smiling</i>). Apply it where you choose. But come, -you’ve got some plan, I know. What is it?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> You are right, boys, I <i>have</i> got a plan. But remember -(<i>impressively</i>), it must be a profound secret with -us.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Walter.</span> We are willing to make the most solemn -protestations of secrecy. Who’s to be the victim?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> Joe Sherman.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> Good! What’s the programme?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> He is to have his fortune told. (<i>The boys crowd -around <span class="smcap">Dick</span>.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">T.</span> (<i>eagerly</i>). How is it to be done?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> Perhaps you have learned that Madame Devineresse, -the fortune-teller, is stopping at the Everett -House. It wouldn’t be very difficult for her to flatter -Joe into the belief that he was born for some great and -glorious end.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> He’s satisfied on that point, already.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> But you don’t understand. We will give her -some hints of what he will expect, and then can have -the fun of listening to the whole performance, and be -better prepared to enjoy his remarks about it afterward. -I have had a little conversation with Madame Devineresse, -and I feel sure she will consent to co-operate -with us.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">T.</span> (<i>excitedly</i>). I’ll wager an inkstand that Dick’s -already had his fortune told by madame.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> That’s nothing strange. He has had it told by -every fortune-teller that’s visited the town for the last -two years.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> (<i>coolly</i>). What difference does that make, when -every one tells a different story? A fellow must have -some excitement in a little country village like this. -Of course I don’t believe a word said by any one of -them. But Sherman would. He’s just one of that -kind. If she told him anything he wished to believe, -he would put implicit faith in it.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">W.</span> (<i>shaking his head</i>). I don’t know about that. -Joe is pretty cunning. I wouldn’t be a bit surprised -if he should discover the plot.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> Trust me for that. I’ve got things arranged so -it is impossible he could suspect anything.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">T.</span> When is it to come off?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> This evening, at the rooms of Madame Devineresse. -We are to be concealed in the ante-room, and -hear all that is said. It will be rich, I assure you. -Come to my room at seven o’clock, and we will be ready -to follow him. He will be there by half-past seven.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">H.</span> How do you know he is going at all?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> I don’t expect he is thinking of it at present; -but I must plan some way to induce him to go, and to -be there at that hour. So I must leave you now. Don’t -fail to be on hand at the appointed time.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Dick</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span></p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene II.</span>—<i>The room of <span class="smcap">Madame Devineresse</span>. She -is seated in an arm-chair, <span class="allsmcap">R. C.</span> On the table before -her are placed an hour-glass and a pack of cards, a -small mirror, and an open book. Charts covered with -mystical characters are hung on the walls. A sickle, a -stuffed eagle, and any other emblematic figures which -can be obtained, are disposed around the room. A -small picture (of any design) is hung up where it will -be reflected into the mirror when held by <span class="smcap">Joe</span>. Each -time he lays down the mirror, the picture is changed -without attracting his attention. <span class="smcap">Joe</span> is ushered in by -<span class="smcap">Faustina</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i></p> - -</div> - -<p><span class="smcap">Joe.</span> You are the fortune-teller, I presume, madame.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Madame Devineresse.</span> Yes; I am called so by -those whom I serve. I unveil the secrets of the future -to those who desire to know them. Do you wish to -look into the magic mirror?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I should like to know something of the future.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> You shall do so. Bring me the magic -mirror, Faustina. (<i><span class="smcap">F.</span> passes mirror to her.</i>) Young -man, approach. (<i><span class="smcap">J.</span> draws near.</i>) You wish to learn -something of the future. (<i><span class="smcap">J.</span> bows.</i>) You are permitted -to look three times into this mirror, where you will see -three scenes in your future life. Take it into your own -hands. (<i><span class="smcap">J.</span> does so.</i>) What do you see?</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Faustina</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I see a school-room. There are many people -present. It must be examination day.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> Do you see yourself there?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Yes; the other scholars are all crowding about -me, and seem to be congratulating me for some -reason. The teacher has come forward, and presents -me with a richly bound book.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> That picture represents a scene in your -life <i>three</i> years hence, when you will leave this school. -You will graduate as first scholar in your class. You see -yourself as having just delivered the valedictory. The -other pupils are congratulating you, but many of them -are envious at the distinction accorded you, and which -you have so richly merited.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Joe’s</span> face beams with pleasure. <span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> holds out -her hand for the mirror. Taking it, she wipes it carefully, -lays it on the table, waves her wand over it three -times, and then returns it to <span class="smcap">Joe</span>.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> What see you now, young man?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> A crowded court-room. A case has just been -tried. I am the centre of a crowd of people, who are -pressing up to shake hands with me. The opposing -lawyer sits at a little distance, casting glances of bitterness -toward me.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> That picture represents a scene <i>fifteen</i> -years hence. You have gained a famous law-suit, -which has placed you, though young, in the front ranks -of your profession. Envious persons have maligned -you, and opponents assailed you; but, without deigning -to notice them, you have steadily gone on, till you have<span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span> -attained a high position in the profession which you -adorn.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> again takes the mirror. Taking a box from -the table, she shakes on the surface of the mirror a white -powder. Wiping it carefully, she makes passes over it -with her wand, and hands it to the young man. He -gazes upon it for a moment in silence, and with pleased -wonder. <span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> looks on benignantly.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> The picture pleases you, then. What -does the mirror disclose?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I see a beautiful house. On the balcony a gentleman -is standing. He is addressing a throng of people -who are assembled before the house. They wave -their hats, and are full of enthusiasm. What does it -mean?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> Do you not recognize the gentleman?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> It looks like myself, but cannot be, for it is too -old.</p> - -<p>(<i><span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> takes the mirror, and gazes on it for a -moment.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> It does look somewhat older, and more mature. -But why should it not? It represents you as you -will appear <i>thirty</i> years hence. You have steadily pressed -onward, distancing all with whom you started at school. -You have just been elected as member of Congress, and -the people, wild with enthusiasm, are shouting your -name, and calling for a speech. (<i><span class="smcap">Joe</span> gazes, as if spellbound, -on the mirror.</i>) Are you satisfied with the -glimpses of the future which I have given you?</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>with dignity befitting his future position, and, -returning the mirror to her</i>). Yes, my good woman, you -have done very well.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> There are few persons to whom such a -brilliant future opens. Whenever the glass has mirrored -such scenes as I have shown you, it loses power ever -after to delineate scenes in <i>common</i> lives. I therefore -present it to you, that, when depressed by the trials of -life, you may gain courage by gazing at its magic surface. -I will place it in a box, in which it must always -be kept. Otherwise, it will lose all its power.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit <span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span></i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>pacing back and forth</i>). And this is to be the -end of my career! No, not the end, for I may yet become -President. I wonder what Harry, Dick, and -Walter would say, if they knew what I do. They -have always thought I put on airs; but they will, some -time, realize that it was only my natural dignity, which -could not fail to assert its superiority to the common -herd around me. (<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span>, with box, which she -hands to <span class="smcap">Joe</span>.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. D.</span> Here is the precious mirror. (<i><span class="smcap">J.</span> takes it.</i>) -Handle it carefully. When not in use, on no account -leave it out of the box. It is capable of producing -other scenes in your life than those which I have shown -you. Whenever you wish to test it, you have but to -wipe its surface carefully, wave your hand over it three -times, and it will produce your image and surroundings -more faithfully than they have yet been shown you.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> Thank you, madame, for your great, your inestimable -gift. I will guard it sacredly, and, when I become -famous and powerful, I will reward you as you deserve.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene III.</span>—<i><span class="smcap">Dick’s</span> room. <span class="smcap">Joe</span> enters, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> He goes to -table, <span class="allsmcap">C.</span>, and takes up book.</i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>solus</i>). I thought I should find a dictionary -<i>here</i>. Dick told me this morning I was the most -“stultiloquent orator” he ever listened to. I never -heard the word before, but it has quite a grand sound, -and I mean to use it the first chance I get, but I want -to know its meaning. (<i>Turns over the leaves, and finds -between them a letter not yet folded.</i>) Hallo, what’s -this? (<i>Takes up letter.</i>) A letter to Tim Bellamy. -How I’d <i>like</i> to read it! But then it wouldn’t be just the -thing. (<i>Glances towards bottom of sheet.</i>) What’s -this? (<i>Reads.</i>) “Now I tell you how we duped Joe -Sherman.” Why, that’s me. I must find out about -that. (<i>Sits down and reads.</i>) “You know Joe is one -of the most conceited boys in school. Well, some of -us fellows thought we’d have a little fun at his expense -through this failing. I heard, one evening, that a -fortune-teller had arrived at the hotel. You know I -always had a weakness for having my fortune told. So -I went to see her, and finding her very pleasant and -obliging, I arranged with her to tell Joe’s fortune in a -way that would tickle his vanity. As I agreed to pay<span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span> -her for it, she was nothing loth to do her part, and she -did it well. Several of us fellows were in the next room, -and heard all that was said. She flattered him with -glimpses of the future which raised his opinion of himself -so much that, since then, he carries his head like a -peer of the realm. By the way, these glimpses -of the future were had by looking into a seven-by-nine -mirror, which reflected pictures hung up -behind Joe, and which we changed each time -he looked into it. We enjoyed, hugely, listening -to the interview, as I think we ought, for it took three -of us several hours to draw the three pictures. It was -also quite a tax on the imagination, which had to be -stretched to the utmost to make Joe satisfied with his -fortune. But we were successful. I can’t help laughing -when I think how carefully he carried that little -mirror home, promising to guard it sacredly. The -fortune-teller told him that when next he looked in it -it would reflect his image even more faithfully than it -had yet done. I wonder what he thought when he <i>did</i> -look in it and saw nothing but his own homely countenance -just as it was?” (<i>Puts back letter and closes the -book.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>solus</i>). Well, that’s the meanest thing I ever knew -Dick to do. I wonder who were with him; Harry and -Tom most likely. But Dick was the ringleader. He -always is. The idea of my being made such a laughing -stock! (<i>Paces back and forth.</i>) It was the climax of -meanness. But I’ll turn the table on them. I guess<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span> -Nat and I are capable of planning something which will -pay up old scores. We’ll have a consultation to-night, -for I want it done before Dick sends his letter, so he -can not only tell the story of his exploit, but also give -the sequel. (<i>A noise is heard, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span></i>) Ah, somebody’s -coming; I mustn’t be seen here.</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Exit, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span> Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div class="scene"> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scene IV.</span>—<i>Same as Scene II. The room is darkened. -In the background is placed a large screen, from -behind which—whenever they can escape observation—several -boys peer out. Enter <span class="smcap">Dick</span>, <span class="allsmcap">R.</span>, with an -open letter. He advances to <span class="allsmcap">R. C.</span></i></p> - -</div><p><span class="smcap">D.</span> I don’t see who could have sent me this notice. -The handwriting is evidently that of a lady. Possibly -it is that of Mme. Marie herself. But the puzzle is, -how she happened to send it to me. I suppose, though, -some one informed her that I liked to have my fortune -told occasionally. (<i>Reads.</i>) -“Madame Marie, the veiled prophetess of the East, -respectfully gives notice that she has taken up her -residence at Number 27 Osborne Street, where she will -remain for seven days only, during which time she is -willing to unfold the future of those who may wish to -become acquainted with its secrets. Madame Marie -will disclose the mysteries of the past, as well as the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span> -hidden events of the future. As her stay is of limited -duration, those wishing to consult her will do well to -call at once.” (<i>Places note in his pocket and paces back -and forth with his hands clasped behind him.</i>) I received -this note only an hour ago, and hastened to call -upon her. But although I have been here full fifteen -minutes, I have as yet seen no one. Where <i>is</i> -Madame Marie? (<i>Enter <span class="smcap">Mme. Marie</span>, <span class="allsmcap">L.</span>, shrouded -with a black veil.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. Marie</span> (<i>in measured tones.</i>) She is here. -What would you have? Shall I tell you the past, or only -the future?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> I would hear something of the past as well as of -the future, if you please, madam.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. M.</span> That is well. I will consult the oracles, -and give you their testimony. (<i>A pause. <span class="smcap">Dick</span> looks -expectant.</i>) Ah, yes, the events of our past life come -crowding up before me. I see that you are credulous, -impulsive, and somewhat superstitious.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> Credulous and superstitious! Oh, no.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. M.</span> (<i>waving her hand</i>). Silence. It is not -meet that you interrupt the disclosures of the oracles. -Superstition signifies a fondness for the unknown and -mysterious; therefore you are superstitious. You are -also credulous; for did you not believe the revelations -of Madame Devineresse, who came here a short time -ago, and who is an arrant impostor? You were the -means of bringing to her a young man who wished to -look into the magic mirror.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> (<i>smiling at the recollection</i>). Yes, and he went -away with higher aspirations, and a feeling of inward -pleasure which cannot be described. I think praise -rather than blame is due me for this deed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. M.</span> I need not tell you of the deception which -you practised on him. Even now circumstances are at -work which will bring to you direful consequences on -account of that deed.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> (<i>somewhat troubled</i>). What do you mean? Has -he discovered the trick?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. M.</span> (<i>without heeding him</i>). I see the young -man standing before a tall, stern-looking person. The -young man is talking earnestly, but I cannot hear his -words. The tall man listens attentively, and soon the -young man goes out. The tall man seems angry. -Hark! he speaks: “So this is the way the boys spend -the hours they should be employed in study. No wonder -recitations are poor. But it is fortunate that I have -discovered the cause in such good time. I will make -an example of this case, and will inflict on the chief -offender such a severe punishment that it will strike -terror into the hearts of the remainder of the school. -What shall it be? Ha! I have it. John, bring me a -strong rope, and a couple of good willow switches. -Then call together the scholars.”</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> (<i>in a fever of excitement</i>). Is there no way of -avoiding this punishment?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Mme. M.</span> (<i>unheeding him</i>). I see the scholars crowding -into the room, but there is one of them who cannot<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span> -be found. No one knows where he is gone. Now a -note is handed to the tall man. He nods approvingly, -and tells all the scholars to follow him. Ha, they come -this way! They are at the door! They enter! (<i>She -starts back, and the boys from behind the screen come -noisily forward. They surround <span class="smcap">Madame M.</span> <span class="smcap">Dick</span> is -in a state of great excitement.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nat.</span> Hooray for the great fortune-teller, Madame -Marie! (<i>Pulls off her veil and cloak, disclosing the features -and figure of <span class="smcap">Joe Sherman</span>.</i>)</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> (<i>comes forward smiling</i>). Is your fortune satisfactory, -Dick?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> (<i>confused</i>). I don’t know. Let me see. (<i>Recovering -himself.</i>) Yes, very much so. It’s turned out far -different from what I expected, a moment ago. I -anticipated a more tragic and <i>striking</i> close. (<i>Comes -forward, and takes <span class="smcap">Joe’s</span> hand.</i>) We’re quits now, Joe. -I give you credit for turning the tables on me completely. -But henceforth I shall keep clear of fortune-tellers. -They are great humbugs, as I have had ample opportunity -to know. Besides, it would be far more sensible -for us boys to plan our future ourselves, and then try -to live up to it, than to listen to the idle talk of those -who care for nothing but the money of their victims. -Now, Joe, I challenge you to enter the list with me, to -gain the prize offered for the greatest number of perfect -recitations during this term. What do you say?</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">J.</span> I’ll do it, Dick. I’ll <i>try</i> for the prize, anyway.</p> - -<p><span class="smcap">D.</span> That’s it, old fellow. And whichever is successful,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span> -the progress we have made will stimulate us to -strive for still higher honors. And who knows but we -may yet gain as great distinction as was pictured to -you by Madame Devineresse, in the Magic Mirror?</p> - -<p class="right">(<i>Curtain falls.</i>)</p> - -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SEEKING HIS FORTUNE, AND OTHER DIALOGUES ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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