CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Joseph Whitmore Barry dramatic library THE GIFT OF TWO FRIENDS OF Cornell University 1934 Cornell University Library PR 5182.M2 1892a The magistrate; a farce in three acts. 3 1924 013 536 549 Cornell University Library The original of tinis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013536549 THE MAGISTRATE. A FARCB IN THREE ACTS. Acting: Rights Reserved. WALTER H. BAKER tS: CO. BOSTON. CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY THE Joseph Whitmore Barry dramatic library THE GIFT OF TWO FRIENDS OF Cornell University 1934 A. W. PINERO^S PLAYS, PLEASE READ CAREFULLY. The acting rights of the following plays have been reserved by the author. Performance is strictly forbidden unless the express consent of the author's agents has first been obtained; and attention is called to the penalties provided by law for the infringement of his rights, as follows : " Sec. 4966 : Any person publicly performing or representing any dramatic or musical composition, for which copyright has been ob- tained, without the consent of the proprietor of said dramatic or musical composition, or his heirs or assigns, shall be Uable for dam- ages therefor, such damages in all cases to be assessed at such sum, not less than one hundred dollars for the first and fifty dollars_ for every subsequent performance, as to the court shall appear to be just. If the unlawful performance and representation be wilful and for profit, such person or persons shall be guilty of a misdemeanor, and upon conviction be imprisoned for a period not exceeding one year." — U. S. Revised Statutes, Tii/e 60, CAa^. 3. Permission to perform these plays privately and by amateur players may be obtained from the publishers on payment, in advance, of a royalty of $10.00 for each performance. Persons wishing to present them professionally and for a number of per- formances should apply to Mr. Dan'l Frohman, Lyceum Theatre, New York, for such permission and for terms. The Amaxons. The Notowotis Mrs. Ebbsmith. The Cabinet Minister. The Profligate. Dandy Dick. The Schoolmistress. The Hobby Horse. The Second Mrs. Tanqueray. Lady BountifisL Sweet Lavender. The Magistrate. The Times. The Veaier Sex, ^ Any 0/ the above seni^ post paid, on receipt of price (50 cents each) i^ BAKER, 5 HAMILTON PLACE, BOSTON. THE MAGISTRATE A FARCE IN THREE ACTS BY ARTHUR W. PINERO All rights reserved. Performance for- bidden., and right of representation reserved. Amplication for the right of performing this piece must be made to the publishers. BOSTON Copyright, 1892, BY ARTHUR W. PINERO. lAU rights reserved."] INTRODUCTORY NOTE "The Magistrate" is, after "Sweet Lavender," perhaps, the most popular of Mr. Pinero's plays, and it is particularly interesting as being the first of his works in which his own individuality found ab- solutely independent expression, and emphatically and triumphantly asserted itself. In fact this farce marks an epoch in the dramatist's career, and shows him creating a really new and original order of English comic play, the further development of which may be traced in the successive plays which, together with " The Magistrate," formed the famous Court series of farces, namely, " The Schoolmis- tress," " Dandy Dick," and " The Cabinet Min- ister." Because Mr. Pinero had previously written " The Rocket," and " In Chancery," for Mr. Edward Terry, who has performed them times out of number in London and the provinces with considerable success, it has been assum ed that " The Magistrate " was also written for Mr. Terry. But this was not the vi INTRODUCTORY NOTE case. As a matter of fact Mr. Pinero wrote the play quite independently, and on its completion he was to have read it to Mr. Charles Wyndham, but the necessities of the Court Theatre intervened. The management of the late Mr. John Clayton and Ai-- thur Cecil was decidedly in low water in 1884 and the earlier part of 1885 ; play after play had been produced without success, when at length applica- tion was made to Mr. Piuero for a new piece. They had been performing serious plays, and he read them " The Weaker Sex," which he had written some little time before ; but Mr. Clayton felt un- certain about this play, which, by the way, Mr, and Mrs. Kendal have since produced, and then Mr. Pinero, mentioning the new comic play he had just finished, suggested that perhaps an entirely new order of entertainment might serve to change the fortunes of the house. "The Magistrate '' was im- mediately accepted and produced, and his conject- ure proved true, for the luck of the theatre promptly turned. " The Magistrate " was produced at the Court Theatre on Saturday, March 21, 1885, with a cast, particulars of which will be found in the following copy of the first night programme : INTRODUGTORY NOTE v:i ROYAL COURT THEATRE, SLOANB SQUAKE, S.W. Lefisces and Managers : Mr. John Clayton and Mr. Arthub Cecil. THIS EVENING, SATURDAY, MARCH 21, At a Quarter to Nine o'cloclt, WILL BE PRODUCED FOR THE FIRST TIME, THE MAGISTRATE, AN ORIGINAL FAROE, IN THREE ACTS, BT A. W. PINBRO. Mb. Poskbt ( Magistrates of the Mul- ( Mr. Arthur Cecil. Mr. Bullamt l berry Street Police Court i Mr. Fred Cape. Colonel Lukyn (from Bengal — retired) Mr. John Clayton. Captain Horace Vale (Shropshire Pp- Biliers) Mr. P. Kerr. Cis Pahringdon (Mrs. Posket's son, by her first marriage) .... Mr. H. EvERSFIELD. Achille Blond (Proprietor of the Hotel des Princes) Mr. Chevalier. Isidore (A Waiter) . . . Mr. Delane. Mb. Wormington (Chief Clerk at Mul- berry Street) . Mr. Gilbert Trent. Inspector Messiter l M«t,„„„m.„„ p„ ( Mr. Albert Sims. Serjeant Lugg i Metropolitan Po- J jj^ ^^^^^ Constable Harris ) ( Mr. Burnley. Wyke (Servant at Mr. Posket's) Mr. Payre. Agatha Posket (late Parringdon, n^e Verrinder) . . . Mrs. John Wood. Charlotte (Her Sister) .... Miss Marion Terry. Beatie Tomlinson (a Young Lady re- duced to teaching music) . Miss Norreys. PoPHAM Miss La Coste. viii INTRODUCTORY NOTE ACT I. THE FAMILY SKELETON. At Mr. PoskeVa^ BlooTnBburj/. ACT II. IT LEAVES ITS CUPBOARD. Room in the Hotel des Princes, Meek Street. ACT ni. IT CRUMBLES. Scene l.—The Magistrate's Room, Mulberry Street. Scene 2. — At the Posketa'' again. Preceded Br a Comedietta bt A. W. DUBOURG, ENTITLED TWENTY MINUTES UNDER AN UMBRELLA. Cousin Kate Miss Noreets. Cousin Feank Mr. H. Reeves Smith. Musical Director MR. CARL ARMBHUSTER. Secretary . . . MR. GEORGE COLEMAN. The success of " The Magistrate '' was immediate, and the Court Theatre was crowded night after night for more than a year, the play being pre- sented over three hundred times. So prosperous was the run that there was no cessation during the summer holiday season, and when Mr. Arthur Cecil went abroad for his vacation, his place as Posket INTRODUGTORY NOTE ix was taken by Mr. Beeibohm Tree, while Miss Lot- tie Venne and Mrs. Tree in like manner relieved Mrs. John Wood and Miss Marion Terry. This success, however, was not confined to Lon- don, for three companies were soon cari-ying the play triumphantly over the English provinces, while in September, 1885, Mr. Pinero went to New York to produce his work at Daly's Theatre. Mr. Daly had suggested that Miss Ada Kehan should play the boy, Cis Farringdon, but to this the author ob- jected, and Miss Eehan j)kiyed Mrs. Posket, while Mr. Posket was represented by Mr. James Lewis, and Colonel Lukyn by Mr. John Drew. "The Magistrate " enjoyed an exceptionally long run in New York, as well as in Boston, and in the latter city it is now performed every year, being included in the regular season of classic English comedies at the Boston Museum. " The Magistrate " has also been played throughout the United States, the- late John T. Raymond having been closely associated with the play for a considerable time. " The Magistrate '' has travelled more widely than most modern English plays, and besides being a stock piece in Australia, India, and South Africa, it has been translated into more than one foreign tongue. Under the title " Der Blaue Grotte " ("The Blue Grotto") it is constantly played all over Germany and Austria, while in the Slavonic X ISTRODUCTOBY NOTE language it is a favorite play at the National Thea- tre, Prague. At one time a proposal was made, through the late Mr. John Clayton, that " The Mag- istrate " should be adapted to the French stage, but the suggestions of the proposed Parisian adapter were, though eminently characteristic, of such a nature that Mr. Pinero did not feel justified in ac- ceding to them. While Mrs. John Wood and Mr. Arthur Chud- leigh were still joint managers of the Court, there was some intention of reviving "The Magistrate" at that theatre, but as matters afterward developed, Mr. Pinero arranged that the revival should take place under the auspices of Mr. Edward Terry, who accordingly appeared as Mr. Posket at his own theatre on Wednesday, April 13, 1892. MALCOLM C. SALAMAK. THE PERSONS OF THE PLAY Mk. Posket (^Magistrate of Mulberry Street Police Court), AsATHA Posket, Cis Fabringdon" {lier son), Charlotte Verrinder (her sister). Colonel Lukyn, Captain Horace Vale, Beatib Tomlinson, Mr. Bullamy (Magistrate of Mulberry Street Police Court), AcHiLLE Blond, ISIUORB, Mb. Wormington, Inspector Mbssiter, \ Sergeant Ltjgg, V {Metropolitan Police), Constable Harris, ) Wykb, POPHAM. THE FIRST ACT. The Family Skeleton. THE SECOND ACT. IT Leaves Its Cupboard, THE THIRD ACT. It Crumbles. THE MAGISTRATE THE FIEST ACT. The scene represents a ivell furnished drawing-room in the house of Mb. Posket in Bloomsbury. Beatie Tomlinson, a pretty, simply dressed little girl of about sixteen, is playing the piano, as Cis Far- KiNGDON, a manly youth wearing cfn Eton jacket, enters the room. Cis. Beatie ! Beatie. Cis, dear ! Dinner isn't over, surely ? Cis. Not quite. I had one of my convenient headaches and cleared out. [Taking an apple and some cobnuts from his pocket and giving them to Beatie.] These are for you, dear, with my love. I sneaked 'em off the sideboard as I came out. Beatie. Oh, I mustn't take them 1 THE MAGISTRATE Cis. Tes, you may — it's my share of dessert. Besides, it's a horrid shame you don't grub with us. Beatie. What, a poor little music mistress ! Cis. Yes. They're only going to give you four guineas a quarter. Fancy getting a girl like you for four guineas a quarter — why, an eighth of you is worth more than that ! Now peg away at your apple. [Produces a cigarette.] Beatie. There's company at dinner, isn't there ? • [Munching her apple.] Cis. Well, hardly. Aunt Charlotte hasn't arrived yet, so there's only old BuUamy. Beatie. Isn't old BuUamy anybody ? Cis. Old Bullamy — well, he's only like the guv'nor, a police magistrate at the Mulberry Street Police Court. Beatie. Oh, does each police court have two magistrates ? Cis. [Proudly.] All the best have two. THE MAGISTRATE Beatie. Don't they quarrel over getting the interesting cases ? I should. Cis. I don't know how they manage — perhaps they toss up who's to hear the big sensations. There's a Mrs. Beldam who is rather a bore sometimes ; I know the Guv always lets old BuUamy attend to her. But, as a rule, I fancy they go half and half, in a friendly way. [Lighting cigarette.] For instance, if the guv'- nor wants to go to the Derby he lets old Bullamy have the Oaks — and so on, see ? [He sits on the floor, comfortabli./ reclining against Beatie, and puffing his cigarette.'] Beatie. Oh, I say, Cis, won't your mamma be angry when she finds I haven't gone home ? Cis. Oh, put it on to your pupil. Say I'm very back- ward. Beatie. I think you are extremely forward — in some ways. [Biting the apple and speaking with her mouth full.] I do wish I could get you to concentrate your atten- tion on your music-lessons. But I wouldn't get you into a scrape ! Cis. No fear of that. Ma is too proud of me. Beatie. But there's your step-father. 4 THE MAGISTRATE Cis. The dear old guv'nor ! Why, he is too good- natured to say "Bo!" to a goose. You know, Beatie, I was at a school at Brighton when ma got married — when she got married the second time, I mean — and the guv'nor and I didn't make each other's acquaintance till after the honeymoon. Beatie. Oh, fancy your step-father blindly accepting such a responsibility. \_Owes him a cobnut to crack for her.] Cis. Yes, wasn't the guv'nor soft ! I might have been a very indifferent sort of young fellow for all he knew. [Having cracked the nut with his teeth, he returns it to her.] Beatie ! Thank you, dear. Cis. Well, when I heard the new dad was a police magistrate, I ivas scared. Said I to myself, " If I don't mind my Ps and Qs, the guv'nor — from force of habit — will fine me all my pocket money." But it's quite the reverse — he's the mildest, meekest [27(6 door opens suddenly.] Look out! Someone coming I [They both jump up, Beatie scattering the nuts that are in her lap all over the floor. Cis throws his cigarette into the fireplace and sii^ at the jnano, playing a simple exercise very badly. Beatie stands behind him, counting.] THE MAGISTBATW 5 Beatie. One — and two — and one — and two. [Wyke, the butler, appears at the door, and mysterious- ly closes it after him.^ Wyke. Ssss ! Master Cis ! Master Cis ! Cis. Hallo— what is it, Wyke ? Wyke. [Producing a decanter from under his ooai.^ The port wine what you asked for, sir. I couldn't get it away before — the old gentleman do hug port wine so. Cis. Got a glass ? Wyke. Yes, sir. [Producing wine-glass from his pocket, and pouring out wine.] What ain't missed ain't mourned, eh, Master Cis ? Cis. [Offering urine.] Here you are, Beatie, dear. Beatie. The idea of such a thing ! I couldn't ! Cis. Why not ? Beatie. If I merely sipped it I shouldn't be able to give you your music-lesson properly. Drink it yourself, you dear, thoughtful boy. 6 THE MAGISTBATM Cis. I sha'n't — it's for you. Beatie. I can't drink it ! Cis. You muat. Beatie. I won't ! Cis. You're disagreeable ! Beatib. Not half so disagreeable as you are. [They vrrangle.] Wyke. [To himself, watching them.] What a young gentleman it is ! and only fourteen ! Fourteen — he behaves like forty ! [Cis chokes as he is drinking the wine ; Beatie pats him on the back.] Why, even Cook has made a 'ash of everything since he's been in the house, and, as for Popham ! [Seeing someone approaching.] Look out. Master Cis ! [Cia returns to the piano, Beatie counting as be- fore. Wyke pretends to arrange the window- curtains, concealing the decanter behind him.] Beatie. One and tv?o — and one and two — and one, etc. [Enter Popham, a smart-looking maidservant.'] THE M AGIST RATE 1. POPHAM, Wyke, Where's the port ? Wyke. [Vacantly.] Port? PoPHAM. Port wine. Missus is furious. Wyke. Port? PoPHAM. [Pointing to the decanter.] Why ! There ! You're carrying it about with you ! Wyke. Why, so I am ! Carrying it about with me ! Shows what a sharp eye I keep on the guv'nor's wines. Carrying it about with me ! Missus will be amused. [Goes out.] PoPHAM. [Eying Cis and Beatie.] There's that boy with her again ! Minx ! Her two hours was up long ago. Why doesn't she go home ? Master Cis, I've got a message for you. Cis. [Rising from the piano.] For me, Popham ? PoPHAM. Yes, sir. [Quietly to him.] The message is from a young lady who up to last Wednesday was all in all to you. Her name is Emma Popham. 8 THE MAGISTRATE Cis. {Trying to get away.] Oh, go along, Popham ! POPHAM. [Holding his sleeoe.] Ah, it wasn't "Go along, Popliatn " till that music girl came into the house. I will go along, but — cast your eye over this before you sleep to-night. [She taken out of her ^Mcket^hand- ker chief a piece of printed papier which she handu him between her finger and thuvib.] Part of a story in " Bow Bells," called " Jilted ; or, Could Blood Atone '? " Wrap it in your handkerchief — it came round the butter. [She goes out ; Cis throws the paper into the grate.] Cis. Bother the girl ! Beatie, she's jealous of you ! Beatie. A parlor-maid jealous of me — and with a bit of a child of fourteen ! Cis. I may be only fourteen, but I feel like a grown-up man ! You're only sixteen — there's not much differ- ence — and if you will only wait for me, I'll soon catch you up and be as much a man as you are a woman. Will you wait for me, Beatie ? Beatie. I can't — I'm getting older every minute ! Cis. Oh, I wish I could borrow five or six years from somebody ! THE MAQISTBATE Beatie. Many a person would be glad to - lend them. [Lovingly.^ And oh, I wish you could ! Cis. [Putting his arm round her.] You do ! Why ? Beatie. Because I — because Cis. [Listening.] Look out ! Here's the mater ! [They run to the piano, he resumes playing, and she counting as before.^ Beatie. One and two — and one — and two, etc. [Enter Agatha Posket, a handsome, showy woman, of about thirty-six, looking perhaps younger.] Agatha Posket. Why, Cis, child, at your music again ? Cis. Yes, ma, always at it. You'll spoil my taste by forcing it if you're not careful. Agatha Posket. We have no right to keep Miss Tomlinson so late. Beatie. Oh, thank you, it doesn't matter. I — I — am afraid we're not making — very — great — progress. 10 THE MAGISTRATE Cis. [Winking at Beatie.] Well, if I play that again, will you kiss me ? Beatie. [Demurely] I don't know, I'm sure. [To Agatha PosKET.] May I promise that, ma'am ? [Situ ill the wivdotv recess. Gis Joining her, puis his arm round her waist.] Agatha Posket. No, certainly not. [To herself, untching them.] If I only could persuade jEneas to dismiss this pro- tegee of his, and to engage a music-master, it would ease ray conscience a little. If this girl kne\>' the truth, how indignant she would be ! And then there is the injustice to the boy himself, and to my hus- band's friends, who are always petting and fondling and caressing what they call " a fine little man of fourteen ! " Fourteen ! Oh, what an idiot I have been to conceal my child's real age ! [Looking at the clock.] Charlotte is late; I wish she would come. It will be a relief to worry her with my troubles. Mr, Posket. [Talking outside.] We smoke all over the house, BuUamy, all over the house. Agatha Posket. I will speak to jEneas about this little girl, at any rate. THE MAGISTRATE 11 [Enter Mk. Posket, a mild gentleman of about fifty, smoking a cigarette, followed by Mb. Bullamy, a fat, red-faced man with a bronchial cough and general Ait«/,'i)ie,'^s.] Mr. Posket Smoke anywhere, Bullamy — smoke anywhere. Mr. Bullamy. Not with my bronchitis, thank ye. Me. Posket. [fieaming at Agatha Posket.J Ah, my darling ! Me. Bullamy. [Producing a small box from hin waintcoat pockefj All I take after dinner is a jujube — sometimes two. [Offering the bo.r.] May I tempt Mrs. Posket? Agatha Posket. No, thank you. [Treading on one of the nuts which have been scattered over the room.] How provoking — who brings nuts into the drawing-room ? Mu. Posket. Miss Tomlinson still here ? [To Beatie.] Don't go, don't go. Glad to see Cis so fond of his music. Your sister Charlotte is behind her time, my darling. Agatha Posket. Her train is delayed, I suppose. Me. Posket. You must stay and see my sister-in-law, Bullamy. 12 THB MA0I8TRATB Me. Bullamy. Pleasure — pleasure ! Mr. Posket. [ have never met her yet ; vv'e ■will share first im- pressions. In the interim, will Miss Tomlinson de- light us with a little music? Me. Bullamy. [Bustling up io the piano. ] If this young lady is going to sing she might like one of my jujubes. [Beatie nils at the piano, with Cis avd Me Bul- lamy on each side of her. Mr. Posket treads on a nut as he walks over to his wife.] Mr. Posket. Dear me — how come nuts into the drawing-room ? [To Agatha Posket.] Of what is my darling think- ing of so deeply? [Treads on another nul.] An- other ! My pet, there are nuts on the drawing-room carpet ! Agatha Pose:et. Yes. I want to speak to you, ^neas. Mr. Posket. About the nuts ? Agatha Posket. No — about Miss Tomlinson — your little protegee. Me. Posket. Ah, nice little thing. THE MAGISTRATE 13 Agatha Posket. Very. But not old enough to exert any decided influence over the boy's musical future. Why not engage a master ? Mb. Posket. What, for a mere child ? Agatha Posket. A mere child — oh ! Me. Posket. A boy of fourteen ! Agatha Posket. [To herself.] Fourteen ! Mr. Posket. A boy of fourteen, not yet out of Czerny's exer- cises. Agatha Posket. [To herself.] If we were alone now, I might have the desperation to tell him all ! Me. Posket. Besides, my darling, you know the interest I take in Miss Tomlinson ; she is one of the brightest little spots on my hobby-horse. Like all our servants, like everybody in my employ, she has been brought to my notice through the unhappy medium of the Police Court over which it is my destiny to preside. Our servant, Wyke, a man with a beautiful nature, is the son of a person I committed for trial for 14 THE MA0I8TRATE marrying three wives. To this day Wyke is igno- rant as to which of those three wives he is the son of ! Cook was once a notorious dipsomaniac, and has even now not entirely freed herself from early influences. Popham is the unclaimed charge of a convicted baby-farmer. Even our milkman came before me as a man who had refused to submit specimens to the analytic inspector. And this poor child, what is she ? Agatha Posket. Yes, I know. Me. Posket. The daughter of a superannuated General, who abstracted four silk umbrellas from the Army and Navy Stores — and on a fine day too ! [Beatie ceases playing. \ Me. Bdllamy. Very good — very good ! Mb. Posket. Thank you — thank you ! Me, Bullamy. [ To Me. Posket, coughing and laughing and pop- ping a jujube into his mouth.] My dear Posket, I really must congratulate you on that boy of yours — your step-son. A most wonderful lad. So confound- edly advanced, too. Me. Posket. Yes, isn't he ? Eh ! THE MAGISTRATE l5 Mr. Bdllamy. [Confidentially.] While the piano was going on just now, he told me one of the most humorous sto- ries I've ever heard. [Laughing heartily and panting, then taking another j ujube.] Ha, ha, bless me, I don't know when I have taken so many jujubes ! Me. Posket. My dear Bullamy, my entire marriage is the great- est possible success. A little romantic, too. [Point- ing to A&ATHA PosKET.J Beautiful woman ! Mr. Bullamy. Very, very. I never committed a more stylish, elegant creature. Mr. Posket. Thank you, Bullamy — we met abroad, at Spa, when I was on my holiday. [Wyke enters with tea-tray, which he hands round.] Mr. Bdllamy. I shall go there next year. Mr. Posket. She lost her first husband about twelve months ago in India. He was an army contractor. Beatie. [To Cis at the piano.] I must go now — there's no excuse for staying any longer. 16 THE MAGISTRATE Ci8. [To her, disconsolately .} What the deuce shall / do? Mb. Posket. [Pouring out milk.] Dear me, this milk seems very poor. When he died, she came to England, placed her boy at a school in Brighton, and then moved about quietly from place to place, drink- ing [Sips tea.] Mb. Bullamy. Drinking ? Me. Posket. The waters — she's a little dyspeptic. [Wtke goes out.] We encountered each other at the Tours des Fontaines — by accident I trod upon her dress Beatie. Good-night, Cis, dear. Cis. Oh! Me. Posket. [Continuing, to Me. Bullamy.] I apologized. We talked about the weather, we drank out of the same glass, discovered that we both suffered from the same ailment, and the result is complete happiness. [He bends over A&atha Posket gallantly.'] Agatha Posket. .Slneas ! [He kis.sps her, then Cis kisses Beatie, loudly ; Me. Posket and Me. Bullamy both listen, puzzled.] Echo? THE MAGISTRATE Me. Posket. Me. Bullamy. Suppose so ! [He kisses the back of his hand experimentall Beatie kisses Cis.] Mb. Bullamy. Yes. Me. Posket. Curious. \To Mr. Bdllamy.] Eomantic sto] isn't it ? Beatie. Good-night, Mrs. Posket ! I shall be here eai to-morrow morning. Agatha Posket. I am afraid you are neglecting your other pupil Beatie. Oh, they're not so interesting as Cis — \correcti herself^ Master Farringdon. Good-night. Agatha Posket. Good-night, dear. [Beatie goes out quietly ; Agatha Posket joi Cis.] Mr. Posket. [To Mb. Bullamy.] We were married abro; without consulting friends or relations on eith side. That's how it is I have never seen my sist( in-law, Miss Verrinder, who is coming from Shro shire to stay with us — she ought to 18 TUB JfAaiSTBATE [Wyke enters.] Wyke. Miss Verrinder has come, ma'am. Mh. Posket. Here she is. Agatha Posket. Charlotte ? [Charlotte, a fine, handxome girl, enters, followed by PoPHAM, with hand luggage.] Agatha Posket. [Kissing her.] My dear Charley. [Wyke goes out.] Charlotte. Aggy, darling, aren't I late ! There's a fog on the line — you could cut it with a knife. [Seeing Cis.] Is that your boy ? Agatha Posket. Yes. Charlotte. Good gracious ! What is he doing in an Eton jacket at his age ? Agatha Posket. [Softly, to Charlotte ] Hush ! don't say a word about my boy's age yet awhile. Charlotte. Oh! Agatha Posket. [About to introduce Mr. Posket. ] There is my husband. THE MAGISTRATE 19 Chaelotte. [Mistaking Me. Bdllamy /or him.] Oh ! how could slie ! [To Me. Bullamy, turnmg her cheek to him.'] I congratulate you — I suppose you ought to kiss me. Agatha Posket. No, no ! Me. Posket. Welcome to my house, Miss Verrinder. Chaelotte. Oh. I beg your pardon. How do you do? Me. Bullamy. \To himself.] Mrs. Posket's an interfering woman. Me. Posket. [Pointing to Mr. Bullamy. J Mr. Bullamy. [Me. Bullamy, aggrieved, boivs stiffly \ Agatha Posket. [To Chaelotte.] Come up-stairs, dear ; will you have some tea ? Chaelotte. No, thank you, pet, but I should like a glass of soda-water. Agatha Posket. Sodar water I 20 THE MAOISTRATE Charlotte. Well, dear, you can put what you like at the bi torn of it. [A&ATHA PosKET ttud Charlotte go out, Pope following. ] Popham. [To Cis.] Give me back my " Bow Bells," wh you have read it, you imp. \_Goes ou Cis. By Jove, Guv, isn't Aunt Charlotte a stunner ? Me. Posket. Seems a charming woman. Me. Bullamy. Posket's got the wrong one ! That comes marrying without first seeing the lady's? relations. Cis. Come along, Guv — let's have a gamble — Mr. Bi lamy will join us. [Opens the card-table, arranges chairs and ca Me. Bdllamt. A gamble ? Mr. Posket. Yes — the boy has taught me a new game call( " Fireworks ; " his mother isn't aware that we pli for money, of course, but we do. THE MAGISTRATE 21 Me. Bullamy. Ha, ha^ ha ! Who wins ? Mk. Posket. He does now — but he says I shall win when I know the game better. Mb. BtTLLAMT. What a boy he is ! Mb. Posket. Isn't he a wonderful lad ? And only fourteen, too. I'll tell you something else — perhaps you had better not mention it to his mother. Mb. Bullamy. No, no, certainly not. Mb. Posket. He's invested a little money for me. Me. Bullamy. What in ? Mb. Posket. Not in — on — on Sillildn for the Lincolnshire Handicap. Sillikin to win and Butterscotch one, two, three. Mb. Bullamy. Good Lord ! Mk. Posket. Ues, the dear boy said, "Guv, it isn't fair you should give me all the tips, I'll give you some "— 22 THE MAGISTRATE and he did — he gave me Sillikin and Butterscotch. He'll manage it for you, if you like. "Plank it down," he calls it. Me. Bullamy. [Chuckling and choking.'] Ha! ha! Ho! ho! [Taking a jujube.] This boy will ruin me in jujubes. Cis. All ready ! Look sharp ! Guv, lend me a sov to start with ? Mr. Posket. A sov to start with ? [They sit at the table. Agatha Posket and Charlotte come into the room.] We didn't think you would return so soon, my darling. Agatha Posket. Go on amusing yourselves, I insist, only don't teach my Cis to play cards. Mr. Bullamy. Ho! hoi Mr. Posket. \To Mr. Bullamy.] Hush ! Hush 1 Agatha Posket. [To Charlotte.] I'm glad of this — we can tell each other our miseries undisturbed. Will you begin ? Charlotte. Well, at last I am engaged to Captain Horace Vale. THE Mjibtxii'IUATE 23 Agatha Posket. Oh ! Charley, I'm so glad ! Charlotte. Yes — so is lie — he says. He proposed to me at the Hunt ball — in the passage — Tuesday week. Agatha Posket, What did he say ? Charlotte. He said, " By Jove, I love you awfully." Agatha Posket. Well — and what did you say ? Charlotte. Oh, I said, " Well, if you are going to be as elo- quent as all that, by Jove, I can't stand out." So we settled it in the passage. He bars flii;ting till after we're married. That's my misery. What's yours, Aggy? Agatha Posket. Something awful ! Charlotte. Cheer up, Aggy ! What is it ? Agatha Posket. Well, Charley, you know I lost my poor dear first husband at a very delicate age. Charlotte. Well, you wei'e five-and-thirty, dear. 24 THE MAGISTRATE Agatha Posket. Yes, that's what I mean. Five-and-thirty is a very delicate age to find yourself single. You're neither one thing nor the other. You're not exactly a two-year-old, and you don't care to pull a hansom. However, I soon met Mr. Posket at Spa — bless him ! Chablotte. And you nominated yourself for the Matrimonial Stakes. Mr, Farringdon's The Widow, by Bereave- ment, put of Mourning, ten pounds extra. Agatha Posket. Yes, Charley, and in less than a month I went triumphantly over the course. But, Charley, dear, I didn't carry the fair weight for age — and that's my trouble. Charlotte. Oh, dear ! Agatha Posket. Undervaluing .Eneas' love, in a moment of, I hope not unjustifiable, vanity, I took five years from my total, which made me thirty-one on my wedding morning. Chaelotte. Well, dear, many a misguided woman has done that before you. Agatha Posket. Yes, Charley, but don't you see the consequences ? It has thrown everything out. As I am now thirty- one, instead of thirty- six as I ought to be, it stands THE MAGISTRATE 2 to reason that I couldn't have been married twent year ago, wbich I was. So I have had to fib i proportion. Charlotte. I see — making your first marriage occur only fi: teen years ago. Agatha Posket. Exactly. Charlotte. Well, then, dear, why worry yourself further ? Agatha Posket. Why, dear, don't you see ? If I am only thirty one now, my boy couldn't have been born nineteei years ago, and if he could, he oughtn't to have beec because, on my own showing, I wasn't married ti] four years later. Now you see the result ! Chaelotte. Which is, that that fine strapping young gentle man over there is only fourteen. Agatha Posket. Precisely. Isn't it awkward ! and his mustache ii becoming more and more obvious every day. Charlotte. What does the boy himself believe ? Agatha Posket. He believes his fnother, of course, as a boy should As a prudent woman, I always kept him in ignorance of his age — in case of necessity. But it is terribl;; 20 THE MAGISTJtATE hard on the poor cbilcl, because his aims, instincts, and ambitions are all so horribly in advance of his condition. His food, his books, his amusements are out of keeping with his palate, his brain, and his disposition ; and with all this suffering — his wretched mother has the remorseful consciousness of having shortened her offspring's life. Charlotte. Oh, come, you haven't quite done that. Agatha Posket. Yes, I have — because, if he lives to be a hundred, he must be buried at ninety-five. Charlotte. That's true. Agatha Posket. Then, there's another a^speot. He's a great favor- ite with all our friends — women friends especially. Even his little music mistress and the girl-servants hug and kiss him because he's such an engaging boy, and I can't stop it. But it's very awful to see these innocent women fondling a young man of nineteen. Charlotte. The women don't know it. Agatha Posket. But they'd like to know it. I mean they ought to know it ! The other day I found my poor boy sitting on Lady Jenkins' lap, and in the presence of Sir George. I have no right to compromise Lady THE MAGISTRATE 27 Jenkins in that way. And now, Charley, you see the whirlpool in which I am struggling — if you can throw me a rope, pray do. Charlotte. What sort of a man is Mr. Posket, Aggy ? Agatha Posket. The best creature in the world. He's a practical philanthropist. Charlotte. Um — he's a Police Magistrate, too, isn't he ? Agatha Posket. Yes, but he pays out of his own pocket half the iines he inflicts. That's why he has had a reprimand from the Home Oflfice for inflicting such light pen- alties. All our servants have graduated at Mulberry Street. Most of the pictures in the dining-room are genuine Constables. Charlotte. Take my advice — tell him the whole story. Agatha Posket. I dare not ! Charlotte. Why? Agatha Posket. I should have to take such a back seat for the rest of my married life. [The parly at the card-table breaks up.\ 28 THE MAOISTBATE Me. Bullamy. {^Qrump'ly.'\ No, thank you, not another minute. \To Me. Posket.J What is the use of talking about revenge, my dear Posket, when I haven't a penny piece left to play with ? Mb. Posket. I'm in the same predicament ! Cis will lend us some money, won't you Cis. Cis. Eather ! Me. Bullamy. No, thank ye ; that boy is one too many for me. I've never met such a child. Good-night, Mrs. Pos- ket. [Treads on a nut.'] Confound the nuts ! Agatha Posket. Going so early? Cis. [To Me. Posket.] I hate a bad loser, don't you. Guv? Agatha Posket. Show Mr. Bullamy down-stairs, Cis. Me. Bullamy. Good-night, Posket. Oh ! I haven't a shilling left for my cabman. Cis. I'll pay the cab. THE MAGISTRATE 29 Me. Bullamy. No, thank you ! I'll walk. [Opening jujube box. 1 Bah ! Not even a jujabe left and on a foggy night, too! Ugh! [Goes ow^.] [Enter Wyke with four letters on salver,] Cis. [To Wyke.] Any for me ? Wyke. One, sir. Cis. [To himself.] From Achille Blond ; lucky the mater didn't see it. [Ooes out.] [Wyke hands letters to A&atha Posket, who takes two, then to Me. Posket, who takes one.] Agatha Posket. This is for you, Charley — already. [Wyke goes out.] Chaelotte. Spare my blushes, dear — it's from Horace, Cap- tain Vale. The dear wretch knew I was coming to you. Heigho ! Will you excuse me ? Me. Posket. Certainly. Agatha Posket. Excuse me, please ? Charlotte. Certainly, my dear. so THE MAGISTBATB Me. Posket. Certainly, my darling. Excuse me, won't you ? Chaelotte. Oh, certainly. Agatha Posket. Certainly, ^neas. [Simultaneoudy they all open their letters and lean back and read.] AaATHA Posket. [Beading.] Lady Jenkins is not feeling very well. Chaelotte. If Captain Horace Vale stood before me at this moment, I'd slap his face ! Agatha Posket. Charlotte ! Chaelotte. [Beading.] "Dear Miss Verrinder, your desper- ate flirtation with Major Bristow at the Meet on Tuesday last, three days after our engagement, has just come to my knowledge. Your letters and gifts, including the gold-headed hair-pin given me at the Hunt ball, shall be returned to-morrow. By Jove, all is over ! Horace Vale." Oh, dear ! Agatha Posket. Oh, Charley, I'm so sorry ! However, you can deny it. THE MAGISTRATE 31 Chablotte. [ Weeping.'] That's the worst of it, I can't. Me, Posket. \To Agatha Posket.] My darling, you will be de- lighted. A note from Colonel Lukyn. Agatha Posket. Lukyn — Lukyn ? I seem to know the name. Mr. Posket. An old schoolfellow of mine who went to India many years ago. He has just come home. I met him at the club last night and asked him to name an evening to dine with us. He accepts for to-morrow. Agatha Posket. Lukyn, Lukyn? Me. Posket. Listen. [Beading.] " It will be especially delight- ful to me, as I believe I am an old friend of your wife and of her first husband. You may recall me to her recollection by reminding her that I am the Captain Lukyn who stood sponsor to her boy when he was christened at Baroda." Agatha Posket. \_Oiving a loud scream.] Oh! Me. Posket. My dear ! Agatha Posket, I've twisted my foot. 32 THE MAGISTRATE Me. Posket. How do nuts come into the drawing room ? CHAItLOTTE. [Quietly, to Agatha Posket.] Aggy? Agatha Posket. [2o Charlotte.] The boy's god-father. Charlotte. When was the child christened ? Agatha Posket. A month after he was born. They always are. Me. Posket. [Reading the letter again.} This is very pleasant. Agatha Posket. [To Mr. Posket.J Let — let me see the letter, I — I may recognize the handwriting. Me. Posket. [Handing her the letter.] Certainly, my pet. [To himself.] Awakened memories of Number One. That's the worst of marrying a widow ; somebody is always proving her previous convictions. Agatha Posket. [To Chaelotte.] " No. 19a Cork Street ! " Charley, put on your things and come with me. Chaelotte. Agatha, you're mad ! THE MAGISTRATE 33 Agatha Posket. I'm going to shut this man's mouth before he comes into this house to-morrow. Charlotte. Wait till he comes. Agatha Posket. Yes, till he stalks in here with his " How d'ye do, Posket ? Haven't seen your wife since the year '66, by Gad, sir ! " Not I ! Mue&B ! Mb. Posket. My dear. Agatha Posket. Lady Jenkins^-Adelaide — is very ill ; she can't put her foot to the ground with neuralgia. [Taking the letter from her pocket and giving it to him.'\ Me. Posket. Bless me ! Agatha Posket. We have known each other for six long years. Me. Posket. Only six weeks, my love. Agatha Posket. Weeks are years in close friendship. My place is by her side. 34 THE MAQISTBATE Me. Posket. {Reading the letter] " Slightly indisposed, caughi trifling cold at the Dog Show. Where do you buj your handkerchiefs ? " There's nothing about neu- ralgia or putting her foot to the ground here, mj darling. Agatha Posket. No, but can't you read between the lines, ^Eneas '. That is the letter of a woman who is not at al well. Me. Posket. All right, my darling, if you are bent upon going I will accompany you. Agatha Posket. Certainly not, ^neas — Charlotte insists on being my companion ; we can keep each other warm in a closed cab. Mr. Posket. But can't I make a third ? Agatha Posket. Don't be so forgetful, ^neas — don't you know that in a four-wheeled cab the fewer knees there are the better. [Agatha Posket and Chaelotte go out.^ [Cis comes in hurriedly.^ Cis. What's the matter, Guv ? Mr. Posket. Your mother and Miss Verrinder are going out. iJiE MAGISTRATE 35 Cis. Out of their minds ? It's a horrid uight. Mh. Posket. Yes, but Lady Jenkins is ill. Cis. Oh ! la ma mentioned in the will? Mr. Posket. Good gracious, what a boy ! No, Cis, your mother is mereh' going to sit by Lady Jenkins' bed- side, to hold her hand, and to tell her where one goes to — to buy pocket-handkerchiefs. Cis. By Jove ! The mater can't be home again till half-past twelve or one o'clock. Mb. Posket. Much later if Lady Jenkins' condition is alarm- ing. Cis. Hurray ! [He takes the watch out of Me. Posket's pocket.'] Just half-past ten. Greenwich mean, eh. Guv? [He puts the watch to his ear, pulling Me. Posket toward him by the chain.] Me. Posket. What an extraordinary lad ! Cis. [Returning watch.] Thanks. They have to get from here to Campden Hill and back again. I'll tell Wyke to get them the worst horse on the rank. 36 THE yTAQISTRATE Me. Posket. My dear child ! Cis. Three-quarters of an hour's journey from here at least. Twice three-quarters, one hour and a half. An hour with Lady Jenkins — when women get to- gether, you know. Guv, they do talk — that's two hours and a half. Good. Gov, will you come with me? Me. Posket. Go with you ! Where ? Cis. Hotel des Princes, Meek Street. A sharp hansom does it in ten minutes. Me. Posket. Meek Street, Hotel des Princes ! Child, do you know what you're talking about? Cis. Rather. Look here. Guv, honor bright — no blab if I show you a letter. Me. Posket. I won't promise anything. Cis. You won't ! Do you know, Guv, you are doing a very unwise thing to check the confidence of a lad, like me ? Mr. Posket. Cis, my boy I THE MAGISTRATE 37 Cis. Can you calculate the inestimable benefit it is to a youngster to have someone always at his elbow, someone older, wiser, and better off than himself? Mr. Poskbt. Of course, Cis, of course, I want you to make a companion of me. Cis. Then how the deuce can I do that if you won't come with me to Meek Street ? Me. Posket. Yes, but deceiving your mother ! Cis. Deceiving the mater would be to tell her a cram- mer — a thing, I hope, we're both of us much above. Me. Posket. Good boy, good boy. Cis. Concealing the fact that we're going to have a bit of supper at the Hotel des Princes is doing my mother a great kindness, because it would upset her considerably to know of the circumstances. You've been wrong, Guv, but we won't say anything more about that. Read the letter. [^Oives Me. Posket the letter l\ Me. Posket. [Beading in a dazed sort of a way.] "Hotel des Princes, Meek Street, W. Dear Sir — Unless you 38 THE MAGISTRATE drop in and settle your arrears, I really cannot keep your room for you anj' longer. Yours obediently, Achilla Blond. Cecil Parringdon, Esq." Good heavens ! You have a room at the Hotel des Princes ! Cis. A room ! It's little better than a coop. Mk. Posket. You don't occupy it ? Cis. But my friends do. When I was at Brighton I was in with the best set — hope I always shall be. I left Brighton — nice bole I was in. You see, Guv, I didn't want my friends to make free with your house. Mb. Posket. Oh, didn't you? Cis. So I took a room at the Hotel des Princes — when I want to put a man up he goes there. You see, Gav, it's you I've been considering more than myself. Me. Posket. But you are a mere child. Cis. A fellow is just as old as he feels. I feel no end of a man. Hush, they're coming down ! I'm off to tell Wyke about the rickety four-wheeler. Mr. Posket. Cis, Cis ! Your mother will discover I have been out. THE MAGISTRATE 39 Cis. Oh, I forgot ; you're married, aren't you ? Mb. Posket. Married ! Cis. Say you are going to the club. Mr. Posket. But that's not the truth, sir ! Cis. Yes, it is. We'll pop in at the club on our way, and you can give me a bitters. [^Goes ouf] Me. Posket. Good gracious, what a boy ! Hotel des Princes, Meek Street ! What shall I do ? Tell his mother? Why, it would turn her hair gray. If I could only get a quiet word with this Mr. Achille Blond, I could put a stop to evei-ything. That is my best course, not to lose a moment in rescuing the child from his boyish indiscretion. Yes, I must go with Cia to Meek Street. [Enter Agatha Posket ond Charlotte, elegantly dreissed.^ Agatha Posket. Have you sent for a cab, ^neas ? Mr. Posket. Cis is looking after that. Agatha Posket. Poor Cis ! How late we keep him up. 40 THE MAGISTRATE [Cis comes in.] Cis. Wyke has gone for a cab, ma, dear. Agatha Posket. Thank you, Cis, darling. Cis. If you'll excuse me, I'll go to my room. I've another bad headache coming on. Agatha Posket. [Kissing him.] Run along, my boy. Cis. Good-night, ma. Good-night, Aunt Charlotte. Charlotte. Good-night, Cis. Agatha Posket. [To herself.] I wish the cab would come. [Agatha Posket and Charlotte look out of the window.] Cis. [At the door.] Ahem ! Good-night, Guv. Mb. Posket. You've told a story— two, sir ! You said you were going up to your room. Cis. So I am — 'to dress. THE MAGISTSATS: 41 Me. Posket. You said you had a bad headache coming on. Cis. So I have, Guv. I always get a bad headache at the Hotel des Priuces. [Goes out.'] Me. Posket. Oh, what a boy ! Agatha Posket. \To herself.'] When will that cab come ? Me. Posket. Ahem ! My pet, the idea has struck me, that as you are going out, it would not be a bad notion for me to pop into my club. Agatha Posket. The club ! You were there last night. Me Posket. I know, my darling. Many men look in at their clubs every night. Agatha Posket. A nice example for Cis, truly! I particularly desire that you should remain at home to-night, Mr. Posket. \_To himself.] Oh, dear me ! Chaelotte. [To Agatha Posket.] "Why not let him go to the club, Agatha? 42 THE MAGISTRATE Agatha Posket. He might meet Colonel Lukyn there. Charlotte. If Colonel Lukyn is there we sha'n't find him in Cork Street ! Agatha Posket. Then we follow him to the club. Charlotte. Ladies never call at a club. Agatha Posket. Such things have been known. [Wyke entersi\ Wyke. [Grinning behind his hand.] The cab is coming, ma'am, Agatha Posket. Coming ? Why didn't you bring it with you ? Wyke. I walk quicker than the cab, ma'am. It's a good horse, slow, but very certain. Agatha Posket. We will come down. Wyke. [To himself.] Just what the horse has done. [To Agatha Posket.] Yes, ma'am. |Wyke goes out] THE MAaiSTRATE 43 Agatha Posket. Good-Digbt, ^neas. Me. Posket. [Nervously.'] I wish you would allow me to go to the club, my pet. Agatha Posket. .^neas, I am surprised at your obstinacy. It is so very different from my first husband. Me. Posket. Really, Agatha, I am shocked. I presume the late Mr. Farringdon occasionally used his clubs. Agatha Posket. Indian clubs. Indian clubs are good for the liver, London clubs are not. Good-night. Mb. Posket. I'll see you to your cab, Agatha. Agatha Posket. No, thank you. Mb. Posket. Upon my word ! Charlotte. [To Agatha Posket.] Why not ? Agatha Posket. He would want to give the direction to the cab- man ! 4:4 THE MAGISTRATE Chablotte. The first tiff. [To Mb. Posket.] Good-night, Mr. Posket. Mb. Posket. Good-night, Miss Verrinder. Agatha Posket. \To Mr. Posket.] Have you any message for Lady Jenkins ? Mb. Posket. Confound Lady Jenkins. Agatha Posket. I will deliver your message in the presence of Sir George, who, I may remind you, is the permanent Secretary at the Home OiBce. [Agatha Posket and Chablotte go out, Me. Posket paces up and down excitedly.^ Mr. Posket. Gurrh ? I'm not to go to the club ! I set a bad example to Cis ! Ha ! ha ! I am different from her first husband. Yes, I am — I'm alive for one thing. I — I — I — I — I'm dashed if I don't go out with the boy. Cis. [Putting his head in at the door.] Coast clear. Guv ? All right. [Enter Cis, /'n fashionable evening dress, carrying Mb. Posket's overcoat and hat.] THE MAGISTRATE 46 Cis. Here are your hat and overcoat. Mr. Posket. Where on earth did you get that dress suit? Cis. Mum's the word, Guv. Brighton tailor — six months' credit. He promised to send in the bill to you so the mater won't know. [Putting Mr. Posket's hat on his head.] By Jove, Guv, don't my togs show you up? Mr. Posket. I won't go, I won't go. I've never met such a boy before. Cis. [Pi-oceeds to help him with hin overcoat.] Mind your arm. Guv. You've got your hand in a pocket. No, no— that's a tear in the lining. That's it. Mk. Posket. I forbid you to go out ! Cis. Yes, Guv. And I forbid you to eat any of those devilled oysters we shall get at the Hotel des Princes. Now you're right ! Mb. Posket. I am not right ! 46 THE MAOISTBATE Cis. Ob, I forgot ! \He pulls out a handful of loose money.'] I found this money in your desk, Guv. You had better take it out with you ; you may want it. Here j'ou are — gold, silver, and coppers. [He empties the money into Mr. Posket's overcoat pocket.] One last precaution, and then we're off. [Goes to the iw it ing -table and voriteson a half sheet of note-paper.] Me. Posket. I shall take a turn round the Square, and then come home again ! I will not be influenced by a mere child ! A man of my responsible position — a magistrate — supping slyly at the Hotel des Princes, in Meek Street — it's horrible. Cis. Now then — we'll creep down-stairs quietly so as not to bring Wyke from his pantry. [Giving Mr. Posket paper.] You stick that up prominentlj' while I blow out the candles. [Cis blows out the candles on the piano.] Mr. Posket. [Beading.] " Your master and Mr. Cecil Fai-ring- don are going to bed. Don't disturb them." I will not be a partner to any written document. This is untrue. Cis. No, it isn't — we are going to bed when we come home. Make haste. Guv. THE MABISTRATB 47 Me. Posket. Oh, what a boy. [Pinning the paper on to the curtain.] Cis. {Turning down the lamp and watching Me. Posket.J Hallo, Guv ! hallo ! You're an old band at this sort of game, are you ? Me. Posket. How dare you ! Cis. [Taking Mk. Posket's arni.'\ Now then, don't breathe. Me. Posket. [Quite demoralized.'l Cis ! Cis ! Wait a minute — wait a minute ! Cis. Hold up, Guv. [Wyke enters.] Oh, bother ! Wyke. [To Me. Posket.J Going out, sir? Me. Posket. [Struggling to be articulate.] No — yes — that is — partially — half round the Square, and possibly — er — um — back again. [To Cis.] Oh, you bad boy ! Wyke. [Coolly going up to the paper on curtains.] Shall I take this down now, sir ? 48 THE MAGISTRATE Mr. Posket. [Quietly, to Cis.] I'm in an awful position ! What am I to do ? Cis. Do as I do — tip him. Me. Posket. What? Cis. Tip him. Mb. Posket. Oh, yes — yes. Where's my money ? [Cis takes two coins out of Me. Posket's pocket and gives them to him without looking at them.] Cis. [To Mr. Posket.] Give him that. Me. Posket. Yes. Cis. And say — " Wyke, you want a new umbrella — buy a very good one. Your mistress has a latch-key, so go to bed." Me. Posket. Wyke. Wyke. Yes, sir. THE MAOISTBATE 49 Mb. Posket. [Giving him money.] Go to bed — buy a very good one. Your mistress has a latch-key — so — so you want a new umbrella ! Wyke. All right, sir. You can depend on me. Are you well muffled up, sir ? Mind you take care of him, Master Cis. Cis. [Supporting Mr. Posket ; Mr. Posket groaning softly.] Capital, Guv, capital. Are you hungry ? Mr. Posket. Hungry ? You're a wicked boy. I've told a false- hood. Cis. No, you haven't. Guv — he really does want a new umbrella. Mb. Posket. Does he, Cis ? Does he ? Thank heaven ! [ 77iej/ go out.] Wyke. [Looking at money.] Here ! What, twopence ! [Throws the coins down in disgast^^ I'll tell the missus. end of the first act. THE SECOND ACT. The scene in a sup2)er-7-oom at the Hotel defs Princes, Meek Street, wil/i two doors — the one leading into an adjoining room, the other into a passage — and a loindow opening on to a balcony. Isidore, a French ivaiter, is showing in Cis and Me. POSKET. Cis. Come on, Guv — come on. How are you, Isidore ? Isidore. I beg your pardon — I am quite well, and so are you, zank you. Cis. I want a pretty little light supper for myself and my friend, Mr. Skinner. Isidore. Mr. Skinner. Mr. Posket. [To Cis. J Skinner ! Is someone else coming? Cis. No, no. You're Skinner. THE MAGISTRATE 51 Mr. Posket. Oh! [Wanders round the room ] Cis. Ml'. Skinner, of the Stock Exchange. What have you ready ? Isidore. [In an undertone, to Cis.] I beg your pardon — very good — but Monsieur Blond he say to ine, " Isi- dore, listen now, if Mr. Parringdon he come here, you say, I beg your pardon, you are a nice gentle- man, but will you pay your little account when it is quite convenient, before you leave the house at once." Cis. Quite so ; there's no difficulty about that. What's the bill ? Isidore. [Oiveg the bill.] I beg your pardon. Eight pounds four shillings. Cis. Phew ! Here go my winnings from old Bullamy and the Guv. [Countvig out money.] Two pounds short. [Turning to Mr. Posket, ivho is carefully ex- amining the scratches on the mirrors.] Skinner ! Skinner ! Mr. Posket. Visitors evidently scratch their names on the mir- rors. Dear me ! Surely this is a spurious title — " Lottie, Duchess of Fulham ! " How very curious t 52 THE MAGISTRATE Cis. Skinner, got any money with you? Me. Posket. Yes, Cis, my boy. \^Feelsfor his money.] Cis. You always keep it in that pocket, Skinner. Me. Posket. [Taking out money.] Oh, yes. [Cis lakes two sovereigns from Me. Posket and gives the amount of his bill to Isidoee, who goes to the sideboard to count out change.] Cis. No putting the change to bed, Isidore. Me. Posket. What's that ? Cis. Putting the change to bed ! Isidore will show you. [To Isidoee, loho comes to them ivith the change and the bill on a plate.] Isidore, show Mr. Skinner how you put silver to bed. Isidore. Oh, Mr. Farringdon, I beg your pardon — no, no ! Me. Posket. It would be most instructive. Isidoee. Very good. [Goes to the table, upon ivhich he puts plate.] Say I have to give you change sixteen shil- lings. THE MAGISTRATE 53 Mb. Posket. Certainly. IsiDOEE. Very good. Before I bring it to you I slip a little half-crown under the bill— so. Then I put what is left on the top of the bill, and I say, "I beg your pardon, your change." You take it, you give me two shillings for nayself, and all is right. Me. Posket. [Counting the silver on the bill with the end of his glasses.] Yes, but suppose I count the silver, it is half-a-crown short ! Isidore. Then I say, " I beg your pardon, how dare you say that ? " Then I do so. [He pulls the bill from the plate.'] Then I say, "The bill is eight pounds four shillings [handing the plate] ; count again." Me. Posket. Ah, of course, it's all right now. Isidore. Very good, then you give me five shillings fot doubting me. Do it, do it. Me. Posket. [In a daze, giving him the five shillings.] Like this? IsiDOEE. Yes, like that. [Slipping the money into his pocket.] I beg your pardon — thank you. [Handing Cis the rest of the change.] Your change, Mr. Farringdou. 54 THE MAGISTRATE Cis. Oh, I say, Isidore. [AcHiLLE Blond, a fat, middle - aged French hotel- keeper, enters with a letter in his hand.] Isidore. Monsieur Blond. Blond. Good-evening, Mr. Farringdon. Isidore. [Quietly, to Blond.] Ze bill is all right. Cis. Good-evening. [^Introducing Mr. Posket.J My friend, Mr. Harvey Skinner, of the Stock Exchange. Blond. Very pleased to see you. [To Cis.J Are you go- ing to enjoy yourselves ? Cis. Rather. Blond. You usually eat in this room, but you don't mind giving it up for to-night — now, do you ? Cis. Oh, Achille ! Blond. Come, come, to please me. A cab has just brought a letter from an old customer of mine, a gentleman TEE MAGISTRATE 55 I haven't seen for over tv^enty years, vyho wants to sup with a friend in this room to-night. It's quite true. l^Oiving Cis a letter.'] Cis. [Beading to himself.'] " 19a, Cork Street. Dear Blond — Fresh, or, rather, stale from India — want to sup with my friend, Captain Vale, to-night, at my old table in my old room. Must do this for Auld Lang Syne. Yours, Alexander Lukyn." [To Blond.] Oh, let him have it. Where will you put us ? Blond. You shall have the best room in the house ; the one next to this. This room— pah ! Come with me. [To Mr. Posket.J Have you known Mi-. Farringdon for a long time ? Mr. Posket. No, no. Not very long. Blond. Ah, he is a fine fellow — Mr. Farringdon. Now, if you please. You can go through this door. [Wheels sofa away and unlocks the door.] Cis. [To Me. Posket.] You'll look better after a glass or two of Pommery, Guv. Me. Posket. No, no, Cis — now, no champagne. 56 THE MAOIBTBATB Cis. No champagne, not for my friend, Harvey Skinner \ Come, Guv — dig me in the ribs — like this. [Digging him in the ribs ] Chuck ! Mb. Posket. [Shrinking. ] Oh, don't ! Cis. And say, Hey ! Go on. Guv. Me. Posket. I can't — I can't. I don't know what it may mean. Cis. [Digging him in the ribs again.] Go on — ch-uck ! Me. Posket. What, like this? [Returning the dig.] Ch-uckl Cis. That's it, that's it. Ha, ha ! You are going it, Guv. Me. Posket. Am I, Cis ? Am I ? [ Waving his arm.] Hey ! Cis and Mr. Posket. Hey! Cis. Ha, ha ! Come on ! Serve the supper, Achille. THE MAGISTRATE 5' Blond. Ah ! he is a grand fellow, Mr. Farringdon. [Ci und Mb. Posket go into the other room. To Isidore. Replace the canape. [There is a sharp knock at the other door. Blon) follows Cis and Mb. Posket wto the other room then locks the door on the inside.] IsiDOBE. Come in, please. [Colonel Lukyn and Captain Vale enter the room LuKYN is a portly, gray-haired, good-lookim military man ; Vale is pale-faced and heavy- eyed, while his manner is languid and dejected.' Lukyn. This is the room. Come in. Vale. This is my olc supper-room — I haven't set foot here for ovei twenty years. By George, I hope to sup here foi another twenty. Vale. [Dejectedly.] Do you ? In less than that, unless I am lucky enough to fall in some foreign set-to, ] shall be in Kensal Green. Ldkyn. [Looking round the room .'sentimentally.] Twentj years ago! Confound 'era, they've painted it. Vale. My people have eight shelves in the catacombs at Kensal Green. 58 THE MAGISTRATE LUKYN. Nonsense, man, nonsense. You're a little low. Waiter, take our coats. Vale. Don't check me, Lukyn. My shelf is four from the bottom. Lukyn. You'll forget the number of your shelf before you're half waj' through your oysters. Vale. \8haking his head.] An oyster merely reminds me of my own particular shell. [IsiDOBE begins to remove Vale's coat.] Lukyn. Ha, ha ! Ha, ha ! Vale. Don't, Lukyn, don't. [In an undertone, to Ldkyn.] It's very good of you, but, by Jove, mj heart is broken. [To Isidobe.] Mind my flower, waiter, con- found you. [-He adjusts flower in his button-hole.] ISIDOEE. You have ordered supper, sir ? Lukyn. Yes, on the back of my note to Mr. Blond. Serve it at once. Isidore. 1 beg your pardon, sir, at once. [He goes out.] THE MAGISTRATE 59 LUKYN. So, you've been badly treated by a woman, eh, Vale? Vale. Shockingly. Between man and man, a Miss Ver- rinder — Charlotte. Yawning away-l Excuse me, Lukyn. [Produces a folded silk handkerchief, shakes it out, and gently blows his nose.] Lukyn. [Light ing a cigarette.] Certainly — certainly — does you great credit. Pretty woman? Vale. Oh, lovely ! A most magnificent set of teeth. All real, as far as I can ascertain. Lukyn. No? Vale. Fact. Ldkyn. Great loss. Have a cigarette ? Vale. [Taking case from Lukyn.] Parascho's ? Lukyn. Yes. Was she — full grown ? 60 THE MAGISTRATE Vale. [Lighting his cigaretle.] Just perfection. She rides eight-stone fifteen, and I have lost her, Lukyn. Beautiful tobacco. Lukyn. What finished it ? Vale. She gave a man a pair of worked slippers three days after our engagement. Lukyn. No? Vale. Fact. You remember Bristov? — Gordon Bristov? ? Lukyn. Perfectly. Best fellow in the world. Vale. He wears them. Lukyn. Villain ! Will you begin with a light wine, or go right on to the champagne ? Vale. By Jove, it's broken my heart, old fellow. I'll go right on to the champagne, please. Lukyn, I shall make you my executor. Lukyn. Pooh ! You'll outlive me ! Why don't they bring the supper ? My heart has been broken like yours. It was broken first in Ireland in '55. It was broken THE MAGISTRATE 61 again in London in '61, but in 1870 it was smashed in Calcutta, by a married lady that time. Vale. A married lady ? Ldkyn. Yes, my late wife. Talk about broken hearts, my boy, when you've won your lady, not when you've lost her. [Ente?- IsiDOEE with a tray of supper things.'] LUKYN. The supper. [To Vale. J Hungry? Vale. [Mournfully.'] Very. [Enter Blond, with an envelope."] Blond. Colonel Lukyn. LuKYN. Ah, Blond, how are you? Not a day older. What have you got there ? Blond. [Quietly to Lukyn in an undertone.] Two ladies, Colonel, down-stairs in a cab, must see you for a few minutes alone. Lukyn. Good gracious ! Excuse me, Vale. [Takes the en- velope from Blond and opens it, reading the enclosed card.] Mrs. Posket —Mrs. Posket ! " Mrs. Posket entreats Colonel Lukyn to see her for five minutes 62 THE MAGISTRATE upon a matter of urgent necessity, and free from observation." By George ! Posket must be ill in bed — I thought he looked seedy last night. [To Blond.] Of course — of course. Say I'll come down. Blond. It is raining outside. I had better ask them up. LUKYN. Do — do. I'll get Captain Vale to step into an- other room. Be quick. Tell 'em I am quite alone. Blond. Yes, Colonel. [Hurries out.'\ Cis. [In the next room rattling glasses and calling.] Waiter ! Waiter ! Waiter-r-r ! Where the deuce are you ? Isidore. Coming, sir, coming. I beg your pardon. [Bustles out.] LuKYN. My dear Vale, I am dreadfully sorry to bother you. Two ladies, one the wife of a very old friend of mine, have followed me here and want half a dozen words with me alone. I am in your hands — how can I manage it ? Vale. My dear fellow, don't mention it. Let me go into another room. THE MAGISTRATE 63 LUKYN. Thank you, very much. You're so hungry, too. Where's the waiter ? Confound him, he's gone ! Vale. All right. I'll pop in here. \Ile passes behind sofa and tries the door leading into the other room.'] Cis. [Within.] What do you want ? Who's there? Vale. Occupied — never mind — I'll find my way some- where. [There is a knock ; Yaile draws back.] Blond. [ Without.] Colonel, are you alone ? The ladies. LUKYN. One moment. Deuce take it. Vale ! The ladies don't want to be seen. By George — I remember. There's a little balcony to that window ; step out for a few moments — keep quiet — I sha'n't detain you — it's nothing important — husband must have had a fit or something. Vale. Oh, certainly ! LUKTN. Good fellow — here's your hat. [Fn his haste he fetches his own hat.] Blond. [Outside, knocking.] Colonel ! Colonel ! 64 THE MAGISTRATE Ldkyn. One moment. \_Giving his hat to Vale.] Awfully sorry. You're so hungry too. [Vale puts on the hat, which is much too large for /i/m.] Ah, that's my hat. Vale. My dear Lukyn — don't mention it. [Opening the window and going out.'] Ldkyn. [Drawing the curtain over the recess.] Just room for him to stand like a man in a sentry-box. Come in, Blond. [Blond shows in Agatha, Posket and Chaklotte, both wearing veils.] Agatha Posket. [Agitated.] Oh, Colonel Lukyn ! Lukyn. Pray compose yourself ! pray compose yourself ! Agatha Posket. What will you think ? Lukyn. That I am perfectly enchanted. Agatha Posket. Thank you. [Pointing to Chaklotte.] My sister. [Lukyn and Charlotte bow.'] THE MAGISTRATE 65 LUKYN. Be seated. Blond? [Softly to him.] Keep the waiter out till I ring — that's all. [Tlie loud pattering of rain is heard.] Blond. Yes, Colonel. LUKTN. Good gracious, Blond ! What's that? Blond. The rain outside. It is cats and dogs. LuKYN. [Horrified. ] By George, is it ? [To himself, look- ing toward windoiv.] Poor devil! [To Blond. J There isn't any method of getting off that balcony, is there ? Blond. No— unless by getting onto it. LuKYN. What do you mean ? Blond. It is not at all safe. Don't use it. [LuKYN stands horror-stricken. Blond goes out. Heavy rain is heard.] LuKYN. [After some nervous glances at the ivindow, wiping perspiration from his forehead.] I am honored, Mrs. Posket, by this visit — though for a moment — I can't imagine 66 THE MAOISTBATE Agatha Posket. Colonel Lukyn, we drove to Cork Street to your lodgings, and there your servant told us you were supping at the Hotel des Princes with a friend. No one will be shown into this room while we are here ? LUKYN. No — we — ah — shall not be disturbed. [To him- self.] Good heavens, suppose I never see him alive again ! Agatha Posket. [Sighing ivearily.] Ah ! LuKYN. I'm afraid you've come to tell me Posket is ill. Agatha Posket. I — no — my husband is at home. [A sharp gust of wind is heard with the rain.'] LuKYlSf. Lord forgive me ! I've killed him. Agatha Posket. [With horror.] Colonel Lukyn ! LuKYN. Madam ! Agatha Posket. Indeed, Mr. Posket is at home. Lukyn. [Olancing at the window.] Is he? I wish we all were. THE MAGISTRATE 67 Agatha Posket. \To herself.'] Sunstroke evidently. Poor fellow ! [To LuKYN.] I assure you my husband is at home, quite well, and by this time sleeping soundly. [Cis and Mr. Posket are heard laughing in the next rooin.'\ Isidore. [Within.] You are two funny gentlemen, I beg your pardon. Agatha Posket. [Slartled.] What is that ? LuKYN. In the next room. [Raps at the door.] Hush — hush, hush ! Charlotte. Get it over, Aggy, and let us go home. I am so awfully hungry. LuKYN. [Peering through the curtains.] It is still bearing him. What's his weight? Surely he can't scale over ten stone. Lord, how wet he is ! Agatha Posket. Colonel Lukyn ! LuKYK [Leaving the loindow sharply.] Madam, command me ! Agatha Posket. Colonel Lukyn, we knew each other at Baroda twenty years ago. 68 . THE MAQL^TRATE Ldkyn. When I look at you, impossible. Agatha Posket. Ah, then you mustn't look at me. LUKYN. Equallj' impossible. Chaelotte. [To herself. '\ Oh, I feel quite out of this. Agatha Posket. You were at my little boy's christening? LuKYN. \_Absently .] Yes — yes — certainly. Agatha Posket. You remember what a fine little fellow he was. LuKYN. [Tlioughtfully.] Not a pound over ten stone. Agatha Posket. Colonel Lukyn ! Ltjkyn. I beg your pardon, yes— I was at the christening of your boy. Agatha Posket. [To herself. '[ One of the worst cases of sunstroke I have ever known. THE MAGISTRATE 69 LUKYN. I remember the child very well. Has he still got that absurd mug ? Agatha Posket. Colonel Lukyn ! LuKYN. Madam ! Agatha Posket. My child is, and always was — perfect. Ldkyn. You misunderstand me ! I was his godfather ; I gave him a silver cup. Agatha Posket. Oh, do excuse me. How did I become acquainted with such a vulgar expression ? I don't know where I pick up my slang. It must be through loitering at shop-windows. Oh, oh, oh ! Lukyn. Pray compose yourself. I'll leave you for a moment. [Going to the window.] Agatha Posket. [To Chahlotte.] How shall I begin, Charley ? Charlotte. Make a bold plunge, do ! The odor of cooking here, to a hungry woman, is maddening. [Vale softly opens the ivindoiu and comes into the recess, but remains concealed by the curtain.] 70 THE MAGISTRATE Vale. [To himself.'] This is too bad of Lukyn ! I'm wet to the skin and frightfully hungry ! Who the deuce are these women ? Agatha Posket. Colonel Lukyn ! Lukyn. Madam. [Listening. ] No crash yet. Agatha Posket. [Impulsively laying her hand upon Ms arm.] Friend of twenty years ! I will be quite candid with you. You are going to dine with us to- morrow ? Lukyn. Madam, I will repay your candor as it deserves. I am. Agatha Posket. My husband knows of your acquaintance with the circumstances of my first marriage. I know what men are. When the women leave the dinner- table, men become retrospective. Now to-morrow night, over dessert, I beg you not to give my hus- band dates. Lukyn. Eh? Agatha Posket. Keep anything like dates from him. Lukyn. Mustn't eat stone fruit ? THE MAGISTRATE 71 Agatha Posret. No, I mean years, months, days — dates connected with my marriage with Mr. Parringdon. LUKYN. Dear me, sore subject ! Agatha Posket. I will be more than candid with you. My present husband, having a very short vacation in the dis- charge of his public duties, wooed me but for three weeks ; you, who have in your time courted and married, know the material of which that happy period is made up. The future is all engrossing to the man ; the presents — I mean the present^a joy- ous dream to the woman. But in dealing with my past I met with more than ordinary difficulties. LuKYN. Don't see why ; late husband died a natural death — wasn't stood on a balcony or anything. Agatha Posket. Colonel Lukyn, you know I was six-and-thirty at the time of my recent marriage ! Lukyn. You surprise me ! Agatha Posket. You know it ! Be frank, Lukyn ! Am I not six- and-thirty ? Lukyn. You are. 72 THE MAGISTBATE Agatha Posket. Very well then. In a three weeks' engagement how was it possible for me to deal with the various episodes of six-and-thirty years? The past may be pleasant, golden, beautiful ; but one may have too much of a good thing. LUKYN. [To himself.'] I am in that position now. Agatha Posket. The man who was courting me was seeking relax- ation from the discharge of multifarious responsi- bilities. How could I tax an already wearied at- tention with the recital of the events of thirty-six years ? LuKYN. What did you do ? Agatha Posket. Oat of consideration for the man I loved, I sacri- ficed five years of happy girlhood — told him I was but one-and-thirty — that I had been mai'ried only fifteen years previously — that my boy was but four- teen ! LuKYN. By George, madam, and am I to subscribe to all this? Agatha Posket. I only ask you to avoid the question of dates. LUKYN. But, at a man's dinner-table THE MAGISTRATE 73 Agatha Posket. You need not spoil a man's dinner. Not only a man's — but a woman's ! Lukyn, Lukyn ! Prom- ise ! Lukyn. Give me a second to think. [Lukyn, turning away, discovers Chaelotte in the act of lifting the covers from the dishes and inspecting the contents.'^ Lukyn. Ah, devilled oysters ! Charlotte. Oh! [Drops dish-cover ivith a crash, and runs over to the table and speaks to Agatha Posket.] Lukyn. Don't go — pray look at 'em again — wish I could persuade you to taste them. What am I to do ? Shall I promise ? Poor Posket ! If I don't prom- ise she'll cry and won't go home. The oysters are nearly cold — cold ! What must he be ! [ Drawing aside the curtain, and, not seeing Vale, he staggers back.'\ Gone — and without a cry. Brave fellow, torave fellow ! Agatha Posket. Colonel Lukyn. Lukyn. Decay of stamina in the army — pah ! The young 'uns are worthy of our best days. 74 THE MAGISTRATIS Agatha Posket. Colonel Lukyn, will you promise ? LUKYN. Promise ? Anything, my dear madam, anything. Agatha Posket. Ah, thank you ! May I ask you to see us to our cab? Lukyn. Certainly ! Thank heaven, they're going ! Agatha Posket. \To Charlotte.] It's all right ; come along ! Charlotte. [Tb Agatha Posket.] Oh, those oysters look so nice. Lukyn. [Tohlmsdf.'] Stop! In my trouble, I am for- getting even the commonest courtesies to these ladies. \_To Agatha Posket.] You have a long journey before you. I am sure your husband would not forgive me for letting you face such weather un- prepared. Let me recommend an oyster or two and a thimbleful of chamj^agne. Agatha Posket. No, thank you, Colonel Lukyn. Charlotte. [To Agatha Posket.] Say yes. I'm starving. THE MAGISTRATE 75 LUKTN. As you please. [To himself .] I knew they'd re- fuse. I've done my duty. Chablotte. [To Agatha Posket.] I was in the train till seven o'clock. Wait till you're a bona-fide traveller — ac- cept. Agatha Posket. Ahem ! Colonel, the fact is my poor sister has been travelling all day and is a little exhausted. LUKYN. [Jlorrijied.] You don't mean to say you're going to give me the inestimable pleasure. [Charlotte looks across at him, nodding and smiling.^ I am de- lighted. [Charlotte sUs hungrily at table ; Iiukyn fetches a bottle of champagne from the sideboard.^ Agatha Posket. [To Charlotte.] Charlotte, I am surprised. Charlotte. [To Agatha Posket.] Nonsense ; the best people come here. Some of them have left their names on the mirrors. Vale. [Behind the curtain.'] This is much too bad of Lukyn. What are they doing now ? [Lukyn draws the cork.\ Confound it, they're having my supper ! [Lukyn pours out wine.'\ 76 THE MAGISTRATE Chaelotte. Why doesn't he give me something to eat? \There in a datler of knives and forks heard from the other room, then a hurst of laughter from Cis.] Agatha Posket. \_Starting.] Charley, hark ! How strange ! Charlotte. Very. This bread is beautiful. [Cis is heard singing the chorus of a comic song, boisterously.'] Agatha Posket. Don't you recognize that voice ? Chaelotte. \Munching.] The only voice I recognize is the voice of hunger. Agatha Posket. I am overwrought, I suppose. [LuKYN, ivith his head drooping, fetches the dish of oysters from, the sideboard. ] Vale. [Behind the curtains.] He has taken the oysters. I've seen him do it. LuKYN. The oysters. [LuKYN si7iks into his chair at the table and leans his head, upon his hand; the two women look at each uth(r.] THE MAGISTRATE 77' Charlotte. [2b Agatha PosKET.] Anything wrong ? Agatha Posket. Sunstroke — bad case ! Chaelotte. Oh — poor fellow. ( She gently lifts the corner of the dish, sniffs, then replaces cover.^ No plates. Agatha Posket. Ask for them. Chaelotte. You ask. Agatha Posket. You're hungry. Chaelotte. You're married. Comes better from you. Vale. [^Behind curtains.'\ This silence is terrible, Agatha Posket. [To LuKYN.J Ahem ! Ahem ! LuKYN. [Looking up suddenly. "l Eh? Agatha Posket. There are no plates. 78 TEE MAOISTRATE LUKYN. No plates ? No plates ? It's my fault. Pardon me. Where are the plates? [Vale, still invisible, stretches out his hand through the curtain, takes up the plates and presents them to Lukyn, who recoils.'] Vale. [In a whisper.] Here are the plates. Look sharp, Lukyn. Lukyn. Vale ! safe and sound ! [He takes the plates, then grasps Vale's extended haiid.] Bless you, old fellow. I'm myself again. [Going gayly to the table with the plates.] My dear ladies, I blush — I positively blush — I am the worst host in the world. Vale. [To himself.] By Jove, tliat's true. Agatha Posket. Not at all— not at all. Lukyn. [Helping the ladies.] I'll make amends, by George ! You may have noticed I've been confoundedly out of sorts. That's my temperament — now up, now down. I've just taken a turn, ha, ha ! Oysters. [Handing plate to Agatha Posket.] Agatha Posket. Thank you. THE MAGISTRATE 79 LUKYN. Ah ! I've passed many a happy hour in this room. The present is not the least happy. Charlotte. [Trying to attract his attention.'] Ahem ! Ahem ! LUKYN. \_Gazing up at the ceiling.'] My first visit to the Hotel des Princes was in the year — the year — let me think. Charlotte. [Whispering to Agatha Posket.] Isn't he going to help me ? LuKYN. Was it in '55 ? Agatha Posket. [Quickly passing her plate over to Charlotte.] I'm not hungry. Charlotte. You're a dear. LuKYN. [Emphatically.] It ivas in '55. I'm forgetful again — pardon me. [fie hands plate of oysters to Char- lotte and is surprised to find her eating vigorously.] Why, I thought I [To Agatha Posket.] My dear madam, a thousand apologies. [He helps her and then himself.] Pah ! they're cold— icy — you 80 THE MAGISTRATE could skate on 'em. There's a dish of something else over there. [He goes to the sideboard ; Vale's hand is again stretched forth with the other covered dish.\ Vale. I say, Lukyn. LUKYN. [Tahing the difih.'\ Thanks, old fellow. [He re- turns to the table and lifts the cover. ^ Soles — they look tempting. If there are only some lemons ! Surely they are not so brutal as to have forgotten the lemons. Where are they ? \_He returns to the sideboard.] Where are they ? [//i an undertone to Vale.] Have you seen any lemons? Agatha Posket. Pray, think less of us, Colonel Lukyn. Let me take care of you. Lukyn. You're very kind. I wish you would let me ring for some lemons. [Vale's hand comes as before from behind the curtain to the sideboard, finds the dish of lem- ons and holds it out at arm's length.^ Vale. [In a whisper.] Lemons. [Agatha PosKET is helping Jmjkys, when suddenly Chaelotte, with her fork in the air, leans back, open-mouthed, .staring wildly at Vale's arm extended vjith tlie dis/i.] THE MAOISTRATE 81 Charlotte. [In terror.] Agatha ! Agatha ! Agatha Posket. Charlotte — what's the matter, Charley ? Charlotte. Agatha ! Agatha Posket. You're ill, Charlotte ! Surely you are not chok- ing ? Charlotte. Look, look ! [Pointing to the curtains, they both scream.'\ Ldkyn. Don't be alarmed — I Charlotte. What's that ? Agatha Posket. Who's that? LUKYN. [Together.'] I can explain. Don't condemn till you've heard. I — I — Damn it, sir, put those lemons down ! Charlotte. He calls him " sir " — it must be a man. LUKYK. It is a man. I am not in a position to deny that. 8'4 THE MAdlSTUATE Agatha Posket. Keally, Colonel Lukyn ! LUKYN. It is my friend. He — he — he's merely waiting for his supper. Agatha Posket. Your friend. [ To Charlotte ] Come home, dear. Lukyn. Do, do hear me ! To avoid the embarrassment of your encountering a stranger, he retreated to the balcony. Agatha Posket. To the balcony ? You have shamefully compro- mised two trusting women, Colonel Lukyn. Lukyn. I would have laid down my life rather than have done so. I did lay down my friend's life. Agatha Posket. He has overheard every confidential word I have spoken to you. Lukyn. Hear his explanation. Why the devil don't you corroborate me, sir ? Vale. [Frovi hehiiid the curtain.] Certainly, I assure you I heard next to nothing. THE MAGISTRATE 83 Chaelottb. [Grasping Agatha Posket's an?).] Oh, Agatha ! Vale. I didn't come in till I was exceedingly wet. LUKYN. [To Agatha Posket.J You hear that ? Vale. And when I did come in Chablottb. [Hysterically.] Horace ! Vale. I beg your pardon. Charlotte. It's Horace, Captain Vale. Vale. [Coming from behind the curtain, looking terribly wet.'] Charlotte — Miss Verrinder. Charlotte. What are you doing here ? What a fright you look. Vale. What am I doing here, Miss Verrinder ? Really, Lukyn, your conduct calls for some little explana- tion. LuKYN. My conduct, sir ? 84 THE MAQl.^TBATE Vale. You make some paltry excuse to turn me out in the rain while you entertain a lady who you know has very recently broken my heart. LUKYN. I didn't know anything of the kind. Vale. I told you, Colonel Lukyn. This isn't the con- duct of an officer and a gentleman. Lukyn. Whose isn't, yours or mine ? Vale. Mine, I mean yours. Lukyn. Tou are in the presence of ladies, sir. Take off my hat. Vale. I beg your pardon. I didn't know I had it on. \_Ue throws the hat away and the two men ex- change angry words.^ Charlotte. He's a verj' good-looking fellow ; you don't see a man at his best when he's wet through. Agatha Posket. [ To Lukyn.] Colonel Lukyn, do you ever intend to send for a cab ? THB MAGISTRATE 85 LUKYN. Certainly, madam. Vale. One moment. I have some personal explanation to exchange with Miss Verrinder. Charlotte. [To Agatha Posket.] The slippers. [To Vale.] I am quite ready, Captain Vale. Vale. Thank you. Colonel Lukyn, will you oblige me by stepping out onto that balcony. LUKTN. Certainly not, sir. Vale. You're afraid of the wet. Colonel Lukyn ; you are no soldier. Lukyn. You know better, sir. As a matter of fact, that balcony can't bear a man like me. Vale. "Which shows that inanimate objects have a great deal of common-sense, sir. Lukyn. You don't prove it in your own instance, Captain Vale. 86 TEE MAGISTRATE Vale. That's a verbal quibble, sir. [They talk angrily.] Agatha Posket. [To Chaelotte.] It's frightfully late. Tell him to write to you. Chaelotte. I must speak to him to-night ; life is too short for letters. Agatha Posket. Then he can telegraph. Charlotte. Halfpenny a word, and he has nothing but his pay. Agatha Posket. Very well, then, Ladj' Jenkins has a telephone. I'll take you there to tea to-morrow. If he loves you tell him to ring up 1 3 3 8 9 1. Charlotte. You thoughtful angel. LUKYN. Mrs. Posket — Miss Verrinder — ahem — we Vale. Colonel Lukyn and myself LuKYN. Captain Vale and I fear that we have been be- trayed, in a moment of THE MAGISTRATE 87 Vale. Natural irritation. LUKYN. Natural irritation, into the atrocious impropriety of differing Vale. Before ladies. LuKYN. Charming ladies Vale. We beg your pardon. Lukyn ! Ldkyn. Vale. {They grasp hands.] Mrs. Posket, I am now going out to hail a cab. Agatha Posket. Pray, do. Lukyn. Miss Verrinder, the process will occupy five minutes. Vale. [Oiving his hat to Lukyn.] Lukyn, I return your kindness — my hat. Lukyn. Thank you, my boy. [Lukyn puts on Vale's hat, which is much to» small for him. Ak he is going out there is a knock at the door ; he opens it ; Blond is out- 88 THE MAGISTRATE Blond. Colonel, it is ten minutes past the time of closing. May I ask you to dismiss your party ? LUKYN. Pooh ! Isn't this a free country ? [5e goes out.'] Blond. Yes, you are free to go home, Colonel. I shall get into trouble. [^Following him out.'\ Charlotte. \To Agatha Posket.J I'll have the first word. Really, Captain Vale, I'm surprised at you. Vale. There was a happy time, Miss Verrinder, when I might have been surprised at you. Charlotte. A few hours ago it was — " By Jove, all is over.'' Now I find you with a bosom friend enjoying dev- illed oysters. Vale. I beg your pardon, I find you enjoying devilled oysters. Charlotte. Horace Vale, you forget you have forfeited the right to exercise any control over my diet. Vale. One would think I had broken off our engage- ment. THE MAGISTRATE 81) Chablotte. If you have not, who has ? I have your letter saying all is over betweeu us. [Putting her handker- chief to her eyes.] That letter will be stamped to- morrow at Somerset House. I know how to protect myself. Vale. Cliarlotte, can you explain your conduct with Gordon Bristow ? Chaelotte. I could if I chose ; a young lady can explain any- thing. Vale. But he is showing your gift to our fellows all over the place. Charlotte. It was a debt of honor. He laid me a box of gloves to a pair of slippers about Forked Light- ning for the Regimental Cup, and Forked Light- ning 'went tender at the heel. I couldn't come to you with debts hanging over me. IGrying.] 1 am too conscientious. Vale. By Jove, I've been a brute. Charlotte. Y-y-yes. Vale. Can you forget I ever wrote that letter ? 90 THE MAGISTRATE Charlotte. That must be a question of time. [She lays her head on his nhoulder and then removes it.\ How damp you are. [She jjuts her handkerchief upon his shoul- der and replaces her head. She moves his arm grad- ually up and arranges it round her shoulder.] If you went on anyhow, every time I discharged an obliga- tion, we should be most unhappy. Vale. I promise you I won't mention Bristow's slippers again. By Jove, I won't — there. Chablotte. Very well, then, if you do that I'll give you my word I won't pay any more debts before our mar- riage. Vale. My darling . [About to embrace her, but reniembering that he is ivet.] Charlotte. No — no — you are too damp. Isidore. [Oiitnide.] I beg your pardon, it is a quarter of an hour over our time. [Agatha Posket has been sitting on the sofa ; sud- denly she ."itarts, listening intently.] Mr. Posket. [Outside.] I know — I know. I'm going directly I can get the boy away. THE MAGISTRATE 91 Agatha Posket. [To herself .'] ^neas! Cis. \_Oatside.'\ All right, Guv, you finish your bottle. Agatha Posket. My boy. Isidore. \_OutsideA Gentlemen, come — come. Agatha Posket. [To herself.] Miserable deceiver! This, then, is the club, and the wretched man conspires to drag my boy down to his own awful level. What shall I do ? I daren't make myself known here. I know ; I'll hurry home, and if I reach there before .Slneas, which I shall do, I'll sit up for him. [LuKYN 7-elurns.] Agatha Posket. Is the cab at the door ? LuKYN. It is. Agatha Posket. Charlotte ! Charlotte ! [Drawing her veil down.] Charlotte. I'm ready, dear. [To Vale. J Married sisters are always a little thoughtless. Vale. [Offering his arm,.] Permit me. 92 THE MAGISTRATE LUYKN. {^Offering his arm to Agatha Posket.] My dear madam. [They are all four about to leave, when Blond enters hurriedly.'] Blond. [Holding up his hand for silence.'] Hush! Husli! LUKYN. What's the matter ? Blond. The pohoe ! All. [In a whisper.] The police 1 Blond. [Quietly.] The pohce are down-stairs at the door. 1 told you so. Charlotte. [Clinging to Vale.J Oh, dear ! Oh, dear ! Agatha Posket. Gracious powers ! Blond. Keep quiet, please. They may be satisfied with Madame Blond's assurances. I must put you in darkness ; they can see the light here if they go round to the back. [Blows out candles and turns down the lights.] Agatha Posket and Chaelotte. Oh! THE MAGISTRATE' 93 Blond. Keep quiet, please ! My license is once marked already. Colonel Lukyn, thank you for this. [/ie goes out.l Agatha Posket. [Whimpering.] Miserable men ! What have you done ? Are you criminals ? Chahlotte. You haven't deserted or anything on my account, have you, Horace ? Lukyn. Hush ! Don't be alarmed. Our time has passed so agreeably that we have overstepped the prescribed hour for closing the hotel. That's all. Agatha Posket. What can they do to us ? Lukyn. At the v?orst, take our names and addresses, and summon us for being here during prohibited hours. Agatha Posket. Oh! Chaelotte. [To Vale.] Horace, can't you speak? Vale. By Jove, I very much regret this. [IsiDOEE enters.] 94 .THE MAGISTRATE LUKYN. Well, well? IsrooKE. I beg your pardon, the police have come in. LuKYN. The devil ! [To Agatha Posket.] My dear lady, don't faint at such a moment. [Blond enters quickly, carrying a rugr.] Blond. They are going over the house ! Hide ! Agatha Posket and Chaelotte. Oh ! [There is a general commotion.] Blond. They have put a man at the back. Keep away from the window. [They are all bustling, and everybody is talking in whispers ; Ldkyn places Agatha Posket under the table, where she is concealed by the cover ; he gets behind the overcoats hanging from thepegs ; Vale and Charlotte crouch down behind sofa.] Thank you very much. I am going to put Isidore to bed on the sofa. That will explain the light which has just gone out. [Isidobe quietly places himself upon the sofa, Blond covering him with the rug.] Thank you very much. [He goes out.] Agatha Posket. [In a stifled voice.] Charley ! Charley I THE MAGISTRATE 95 Chablotte. Yes. Agatha Posket. Where are you ? Chablotte. Here. Agatha Posket, Oh, where is Captain Vale ? Charlotte. I think he's near me. Vale. By Jove, Charlotte, I am ! Agatha Posket. Colonel Lukyn ! LUKYN. [From behind the coats. ] Here, madam 1 Agatha Posket. Don't leave us. Lukyn. Madam, I am a soldier. Chablotte. [To Vale.] Oh, Horace, at such a moment v?hat a comfort we must be to each other. 96 THE MAGISTRATE Vale. My dear Charlotte, it's incalculable. [Isidore gently raises himself and looks over the back of sofa.] Chaelotte. [In terror.^ What's that ? IsiDOBB. [Softly.] I beg your pardon. [Blond enters quietly , followed by Cis and Me. Posket 0)1 tip-toe, Mr. Posket holding on to Cis.] Blond. This way ; be quick. Excuse me, the police are just entering the room in which these gentlemen were having supper. One of them is anxious not to be asked any questions. Please to hide him and his friend somewhere. They are both very nice gentle- men. Life goes out, leaving Cis and Me. Posket.] Me. Posket. Cis, Cis. Advise me, my boy, advise me. Cis. It's all right. Guv, it's all right. Get behind some- thing. [Agatha Vobkev peeps from under the table-cloth.] Agatha Posket. ^neas, and my child ! [Me. Posket and Cis wander about, looking for hiding-places.] THE MAOISTHATB 97 Vale. [To Cis.] Go away. Cis. Oh! LUKYN. \To Mb. Posket, who is fumbling at the coats.'] No, no. BliOND. \_Popping his head in.] The police — coining. [Cis disappears behind the window-curtain. Mk. PosKBT dives under the table.'] Agatha Posket. Oh! Mr. Posket. [To Agatha Posket in a ivhisper^ I beg your pardon. I think I am addressing a lady. I am entirely the victim of circumstances. Accept my apologies for this apparent intrusion. [No answer.] Madam, I applaud your reticence, though any state- ment made under the present circumstances would not be used against you. Where is that boy ? Oh ! Madam, it may be acute nervousness on your part, but you are certainly pinching my arm. [There is the sound of heavy feet outside, then Mes- siTER, a gruff, matter-of-fact Inspector of Police, enters, followed by Haeeis, a constable, and AoHiLLE Blond.] Blond. You need not trouble yourself, take my word for it. 98 THE MAGISTRATE Messiter. No trouble, Mr. Blond, thank you. \_Sniffing.'\ Candles — blown out — lately. This is where the light was. Blond. Perhaps. My servant, Isidore, sleeps here ; he has only just gone to bed. Messitee. Oh ! \Takirig a bull's-eye lantern from Haeris and throwing the light on Isidore, who is apparently sleep- ing soundly.} Dead tired, I suppose? Blond. I suppose so. Messitee. [Slightly turning down the covering.] He sleeps in his clothes ? Blond. Oh, yes ! Messitee. Always ? Blond. Always — it is a rule of the hotel. Messitee. Oh! Why's that? Blond. To be ready for the morning. THE MAGISTRATE 9fl Messitek. All right — all right. [Throwing the rug and blanket aside.] Isidore, go down-stairs and give your full name and particulars to Sergeant Jarvis. Isidore. [MfSing instantly.] Yes, sir — very good. Blond. [To IsiDOEE.] Why do you wake up so soon? Devil take you ! Isidore. I beg your pardon. [He goes out.] Messiter. What is underneath that window, Mr. Blond? Blond. The skylight over the kitchen — devil take it ! Messiter. Thank you — you can go down to the sergeant now, Mr. Blond. Blond. With pleasure — devil take me ! [He goes out.] Messiter. Now then, Harris. Harris. Yes, sir. 100 THE JIAGLSTRATE Messiter. Keep perfectly still and hold your breath as long as yon can. Harris. Hold my breath, sir? Messiter. Yes. I want to hear how many people are breath- ing in this room. Are you ready ? Harris. Yes, sir. Messiter. Go ! [Harris staiids still, tightly compressing his lipa ; Messiter quickly examines his face by the light of the lantern, then walks round the room, listening, and nodding his head with satisfaction as he passes the various hiding-places. Harris writhes in agony ; in the end he gives it up and breathes heavily.] Harris ! Harris. [Exhausted.] Yes, sir! Messiter. You're breathing. Harris. Oh, Lor', yes, sir ! Messiter. You'll report yourself to-night ! THE MAGISTRATE 101 Haebis. I held on till I nearly went off, sir. Messiter. [Gimng him the hull's eye.] Don't argue, but light up. There are half a dozen people concealed in this room. [There is a cry from the women. Charlotte and Vale rise. Luktn .steps from behind the coats.~\ I thought so. [As Messiter turns, Agatha Posket and Me. PosKET rise, Cis comes quickly, catches hold of Me. Posket and drags him across to the windoic.~\ Cis. [To Me. Posket. ] Come on, Guv. Come on ! [They disappear through the curtain as Harris turns up the lights. Then there is a cry and the sound of a crash. ] Agatha Posket. They're killed ! [Messiter looks through the window.] Messiter. No, they're not ; they've gone into the kitchen, and the balcony with them. Look sharp, Harris. [Harris goes out quickly. ] LUKYN. [To Messiter.] I shall report you for this, sir. Messiter. [Taking out his note-book.] Very sorry, sir; it's my duty. 102 THE MAGISTRATE LUKYN. Dutj', sir ! Coming your confounded detective tricks on ladies and gentlemen ! How dare you make ladies and gentlemen suspend their breathing till they nearly have apoplexy ? Do you know I'm a short-necked man, sir ? Messiter. I didn't want you to leave off breathing, sir. I wanted you to breathe louder. Your name and address, sir. LUKTN. Gur-r-r-h ! Messitee. Army gentleman, sir? LuKYN. How do you know that? Messitee. Short style of speaking, sir. Army gentlemen run a bit brusquish when on in years. LuKYN. Oh ! Alexander Lukyn — Colonel — Her Majesty's Cheshire Light Infantry, late Forty-first Foot, Third Battalion — Bengal — Retired. Messitee. [Writing. \ Hotel or club. Colonel ? Lukyn. Neither. 19a Cork Street — ^lodgings. THE MAGISTRATE 103 Messiter. [Writing.] Very nice part, Colonel. Thank you. LUKYN. Bah! Messiter. Other gentleman ? Vale. [With languidhruteur.] Horace Edmund Choltn- eley Clive Napier Vale. Captain — Shropshire Fusiliers — Stark's Hotel, Conduit Street. Messiter. [Writing.] Ee tired, sir ? Vale. No, confound you — Active ! Messiter. Thank you, Captain. Ahem ! Beg pardon. The — the ladies. [Charlotte" clings to Vale, Aoatha Posket to LuKYN.] Charlotte and Agatha Posket. No — no ! No — no ! LuKYN. [To Agatha Posket.] All right — all right — trust to me ! [To Messiter,] Well, sir? Messiter. Names and addresses, please. 104 TSB MAOISTRATB LUKYN. Officer — my good fellow — tell me now — er — um — at the present moment what are you most in want of? Messiter. These two ladies' names and addresses, please. Be quick, Colonel. \Pointing to Agatha Posket.] That lady first. LuKYN Christian names— er — ah — er — Alice Emmeline. Messiter. \_Writing.'\ Alice, Emmeline. Surname? LuKYN. Er — um— Fitzgerald — 101 Wilton Street, Picca- dilly. Messiter. Single lady ? LuKYN. Quite. Messiter. Very good, sir. Agatha Posket. [2b LuKYN, tearfully. 1 Oh, thank you, such a nice address too. Messiter. [jTo Vale.] Now, Captain, please — that lady. THE MAOISTRATE 105 Vale. [Who has been reassuring Chahlotte.] Haw ! ha ! this lady is— ah— um— the other lady's sister. Messitee. Single lady, sir? Vale. Certainly. Messiter. [Writing.] Christian name, Captain? Vale. Ah — um — Harriet. Messiteb. [ Writing. ] Surname. Vale. Er — Macnamara. Messiteb. [With a grim sm/le] Quite so. Lives with her sister, of course, sir ? Vale. Of course. Messiteb. Where at, sir ? Vale. Albert Mansions, Victoria Street. Chablotte. [To Vale.] Oh, thank you, I always fancied that spot, 106 THE MAGISTRATE Messitek. Very much obliged, gentlemen. LUKYN, [Who hax listened to Vale's answers in helpless horror.] By George, well out of it! [Charlotte toilers across to Agatha Posket, who embraces her.] Ldkyn. [Taking down the overcoats and throwing one to Vale.] Vale, your coat. [Harris enters.] Harris. [To Messiter.] Very sorry, sir ; the two other gentlemen got clean off, through the back scullery door — old hands to all appearance. [Messiter stamps his fool, with an exclamation.] Agatha Posket. [To herself.] My boy — saved ! LuKYN. [To Harris, who stands before the door.] Constable, get out of the way. Messiter. [Sharply.] Harris ! Harris. [Without mooing.] Yes, sir. THE MAGISTRATE 107 Messiter. You will leave the hotel with these ladies, and not lose sight of them till you've ascertained what their names are and where they do live. LuKYN and Vale. What! Agatha Posket and Chablottj!,. Oh! Messiter. Your own fault, gentlemen ; it's my duty. LuKYN. And it is tny duty to save these helpless women from the protecting laws of my confounded country ! Vale! Vale. [Putting his coat on the sofa.] Active ! LuKYN. [To Harris. J Let these ladies pass I [He takes Harris by the collar and flings him ooer to Vale, who throws him over toward the ladies, who push him away. Messiter puts a whistle to his mouth and blows, there is an immediate answer from, imlhout.] More of your fellows outside ? Messiter. Yes, sir, at your service. Very sorry, gentlemen, but you and your party are in my custody. LuKYN and Vale. What ? 108 THE MAGISTRATE Agatha Posket and Charlotte. Oh! Messiter. For assaulting this man in the execution of his duty. LUKYN. You'll dare to lock us up all night ? Messiter. It's one o'clock now. Colonel — you'll come on first thing in the morning. LUKYN. Come on. At what court ? Messiter. Mulberry Street. Agatha Posket. Ah ! The magistrate ? Messiter. Mr. Posket, mum. [Agatha Posket sinka into a chair, Chaelotte at her feet ; Ldkyn, overcome, falls on Vale's shoulders.'] END OF the second ACT. THE THIED ACT. The first scene is the Magistrate's Room at Mulberry Street Police Court, with a doorway cooered by curtaina leading directly into the Court and a door opening into a passage. It is the morning after the eue.nts of the last Act. Police Sergeant Lugg, a middle-aged man with a sliyht country dialect, enters with The Tim.es new.'ipaper, and proceeds to cut it and glance at its contents, while he hums a song. Mr. Wormington, an elderly trim and precise man, enters. Mr. Wormington. Good-morning, Lugg. Lugg. Morning, Mr. Wormington. Mr. Wormington. Mr^ Posket not arrived yet ? Lugg. Not yet, sir Hullo ! [Reading.] " Paid on a West End Hotel. At an early hour this morning " 110 THE MAGISTRATE Mr. Wobminqton. Yes, I've read that — a case of assault upon the police. LuGG. Why, these must be the folks who've been so pre- cious rampageous all night. Mk. Wormington. Very likely. Ldgg. Yes, sir, protestin' and protestin' till they protested everybody's sleep away. Nice-looking women, too, though, as I tell Mrs. Lugg, nowadays thei'e's no telling who's the lady and who isn't. Who's got this job, sir ? Mr. Wormington. Inspector Messiter. Lugg. Messiter ! That's luck ! Why, he's the worst elocu- tionist in the force, sir * \_As he arranges the news- paper upon ihe table he catches sight of Mr. Woeming- ton's necktie, which in bright red.^ Well, I — excuse me, Mr. W^ormington, but all the years I've had the honor of knowin' you, sir, I've never seen you wear a necktie with, so to speak, a dash of color in it. Mr. W^oemington. Well, Lugg, no, that's true ; but to-day is an excep- tional occasion with me. It is, in fact, the twenty- * A city magistrate, cemmriiig a roKxinblefor (he inrlLitiiict- ness of his utterances in the wtfiiesK-bnx, sni/i/esled ilmt the police should be instructed in ,..<.„t»™ Price, iSS cents. characters. THE YOUNG MEN'S LEAGUE. I ^,^^Z^ ^;-\^- ' /^ A ■>□>*< A nil [Tin IT n%w«1»A male, six female oharacters. HEDDA GABLER. j Gakbtarphen. Twelve Price, 8S cents. A Drama or Fotrs Acts. Translated by H Edmond aossB. Throe male, four female >) characters. Price, SO cents. ' THE MASTER BUILDER. fasnale dutnwtan. I latedby ' UAM Al IK Trbbb Aot*. Trsns- Edmuxo OoiM and Wil- BOBBB. Four male, three Priae, M cents.