NO PLAYS EXCHANGED. ^S 635 29 >py 1 'B7\KER'5 Edition' or PLnY3 SIX TO ONE COPYRIGHT. 18R9 BY WALTER H. BAKER & CO. BAKER'S DARKEY PLAYS Edited and arranged for publication from the well-known repertoire of " SCHOOLCRAFT AND COES " with all their oHginal *'gagsy and " stage b%slness." BY GEO. H. COES. Price 15 cents each. "Luke Schoolcraft" and "George Goes" are too well known to admirers of Xegio Minstrelsy to require comment, and the following selections from their admirable reijeriory of pieces have no need of other recommendation. No one wlio has seen these artists in any of the following list of sketches needs assur- ance of their hnmor and good acting quality. Twelve are now ready, and others will follow as the demand arises. Mrs. Didymus' Party. In One Scene. Two male characters. Scene, a plain room. An immensely humorous trifle. Plays twenty minutes. Music VS. Elocution. In One Scene. Two male characters. Scene, a plain room. Always very popular. Plays fifteen minutes. Mistaken Identity. In One Scene. Eight male and one female characters. Can be played in "white face" if desired. Plays fifteen minutes. Oh, Well, It's No Use. In One Scene. Three male characters. A very funny sketch, full of genuine darkey humor. Plays twenty minutes. Here She Goes, and There She Goes. In One Act. Eight male and one female characters. An uproariously funny piece of great popularity. Plays twenty-five minutes. Finished Education. A Finale for the "Eirst Part" of a Minstrel Entertainment. Three speaking characters. No change of scene Slack Blunders. In Two Scenes. Nine males and three females. Scenery simple; costumes eccentric. Very lively and amusing. Plays twenty-five minutes. ^ae Old Parson. A "First Part Finish" for a Minstrel Enter- tainment. Six speaking characters. No change of scene. Sublime and Ridiculous. In One Scene. Three male characters. Scenery and costumes very simple. A sure hit for a good burlesque ^•omedian. Plays twenty minutes. diveryday Occurrences. A "First J*art Finish "for a Minstrel Entertainment. Three speaking characters. No change of scene. jadly Sold. In Two Scenes. Four male characters and supers. A very funny piece. Can be played " white face " with equally good effect. Plays twenty minutes. Dur Colored Conductors. In Two Scenes. Three male char- acters and ten supers. This is an uproariously funny " skit " and a sure hit. Plays twenty minutes. Catalogues describing the above and viher popular entertainments sent free on application to WALTER H. BAKER & CO., THEATRICAL PUBLISHERS, ^^o. 23 Winter Street - BOSTON, MASS. SIX TO ONE OR THE SCAPEGRACE ^ (f^^ovxj^ditttK in (^nt ^ct BY FRANCES AYMAR MATHEWS AUTHOR OF "a FINISHED COQUETTE," " WOOING A WIDOW," ET< Reprinted by permission of Harder <5^ Brothers. BOSTON 1 896 '^if ''■^ '^ CHARACTERS ' ^ MRS. POMEROY DODGE 0/ Newport GLADYS QUINCY Her Boston Niece NINA CROSBY Her New York Niece MAUD LAWTON Her Philadelphia Niece ETHEL DAVIES Her Chicago Niece ALINE DE VALENCE Her French Niece ELIOT CHAMPNEY Her Nephew Copyright, 1887, by Harper & Brothers. Copyright, 1889, by Belford, Clarke & Co, Copyright, iSgS, by Walter H. Baker & Co. SIX TO ONE. Scene. — Mrs. Dodge's morning-room at Oaktown, New- port. Mrs. T>OTiQ,^ atid her five 7iieces discovered^ Gladys with a book, Nina counting bills in her purse, Maud pai?tting at easel {i..), Ethel eating bonbons, and Aline at piano (r.) with music. Mrs. D. {embroiderijig). Yes, my dear girls, I am happy to say that our feminine monotony is about to be broken in upon — flavored, so to speak, by a Httle mascuHne sauce piquante. My nephew is really coming to us. He arrives from Havre by La BourgogJie on Monday, and will come directly here. Qi^KHYS {absefitly^. Which — which of your nephews is it, aunt dear .? Mrs. D. Ah ! {sighs) that scapegrace of an Eliot, of course. (Aline starts sicddenly.) I only wish it had been George, or Jack, or Douglas ; but it's Eliot. Nina {snapping purse). Oh, that's the cousin, girls, who hasn't a cent to his name, and who has lived abroad all his life. They say he's awfully handsome. Maud. Of course his family, being our own, is irreproach- able. {Paints.) Ethel. Wonder if there's any " go " in him, girls .^ {Eats.) Gladys. And his intellect — being related to ours — is doubtless unimpeachable. {Reads.) Ethel. Aunt Dodge, do you think our dear cousin Eliot knows how to while away the long, soft hours of a June day — ah — in a manner agreeable to young relations of — er — our gender ? That is, can Eliot Champney flirt ? (Aline starts slightly.) Mrs. i3. Ethel, I am amazed at you ! In any event, re- member that he is your cousin, and do not attempt to trifle with his affections. Recollect that he has nothing, nor have you, and — 4 SIX TO ONE. Gladys. Has he ever written anything, aunt dear ? Mrs. D. Beautiful letters, my dear — beautiful. Full of repentance and the list of his debts. Maud. Does he realize, I wonder, that he is a scion of a house that can go back to the thirteenth century, the tomb of whose ancestral founder is the chief ornament of the chapel of— Ethel. Goodness me ! If he only knows enough to fan one, and row one, and drive one, and look at one — properly — he'll do ; won't he, Nina ? Nina. Right, darling — right every time. (Crosses to piano.) Well, Aline, what are you doing? Your music is upside down. What have you got to say about the invader, eh 1 Mrs. D. Oh, my dear, Aline has been educated in France, a country where young girls have no thoughts upon the sub- ject of the opposite sex — have they, dear .? Aline. Aunt ees correct. Zat ees ze rule in France. Ethel. No exceptions, Aline ? Oh — h, you are blush- ing ! I've no doubt, girls, Eliot will fall dead in love with her straight off, and — Mrs. D. I trust there will be no " falling in love " in the case, and I hope that all of you will conduct yourselves with propriety, mingled with a proper degree of cousinly feeHng. Nina, Dear me ! aunt, I am prepared to adore him — as a cousin. Ethel. And I to dote upon him — ditto. Gladys. And I to study with him. Maud. And 1 to coach him in genealogical lore. Mrs. D. And my little Aline ? Aline. Oh, chere tante^ I am prepared to — to welcome heem as ze son of my mothair's brothair. A'est-ce pas ? Mrs. D. Charming ! Now I must drive into town, my children ; and you — Maud and Ethel. Oh, we are going down on the cliffs. (Exeunt L.) Nina and Gladys. And we are going to Purgatory. {Exeunt l.) Aline. And I, chere tante, I have ze lettairs to write. (Going up c.) Mrs. D. Well, my dear, I expect Eliot — Aline (at window, c). Zere he ^es ! Oh, what shall I do .? What shall I do .? (Exit u)- SIX TO ONE. 5 {Enter, R., Eliot.) Mrs. D. Eliot, my dear boy ! Eliot. Aunt dear ! Looking ten years younger than the last time I saw you in Paris ! Pardon my unceremonious descent upon you, but, to tell the truth, I found that I could reach here more quickly by train than by boat, and I made up my mind to take you by surprise, and come right on. Mrs. D. You did exactly as you should. Your room is ready for you, and your old aunt welcomes you. Ah ! Ehot, thoughtless and gay, bad boy that you are, my house and my heart are ever open to my sister's child. Eliot. Oh, aunt dear ! {Crosses.^ I say, aunt, I — I've rather turned over a new leaf, you know. To be candid, I've sowed such fields full of wild oats that — Mrs. D. EHot, my dear boy, I felt sure that theJast time I paid your debts the turning-point must come soon. You will sow no more ! Eliot. Not wild. I think I'll try the tame oats now ; the domestic, the chez soi sort of thing, — society, and teas, and tennis, and all that. Mrs. D. Eliot Champney! Eliot {kisses her). Bless your heart, auntie, I've run over to America after a girl, — the prettiest, loveliest, best — oh, yes, the best; a tame girl, a jewel, a saint! Mrs. D. Ehot! Eliot. Really. A seraph, an angel, a beauty — charmeuse ! ravissante f Mrs. D. Where is she ? Eliot {inournfully') . I don't know. Mrs. D. You don't know 1 Eliot. No. The delicious little witch ! that's what I've crossed the Atlantic to find out — where she is. Mrs. D. Where did you meet her ? Eliot (sits). Oh, aunt, I met her at an Embassy ball ; a shy, sweet httle creature, chaperoned by some one who watched her like an Argus, or any other disagreeable anti- quity. But — I managed it. Mrs. D. Eliot! Eliot. Oh, tamely, I assure you. I told her of my — {Rises.) By Jove, aunt, when uncle told you, he meant it; so did I when I told that child. And then, whiz! whir! the first thing I know, she is sent off to America to visit soro^ ridiculous old female relative or other. 6 SIX TO ONE. Mrs. D. You don't know whom ? Eliot. No ; I know nothing. I am expecting a letter from her hourly — that is, if the poor child received mine be- fore she sailed. Mrs. D. Well, well ! What is she like ? Eliot. Like / Why, good heavens ! Aunt Dodge, she isn't k'ke anything. Did you ever hear of the girl a fellow is genuinely in love with being /ike anything or anybody else ! It's because she isn't like that I like her. Oh, when I think, it seems to me that I shall go mad. I — I say, aunt, any pretty girls stopping with you here ? Mrs. D. What! Eliot. To be sure. I must keep my hand in. I must have distraction, or — Mrs. D. My nieces, your cousins, are visiting me, — five lovely girls, each of them blessed with an unusual amount of common-sense, education, and accomplishments. Eliot. Whew-w ! Five ! Why, one would answer* Pretty t Mrs. D. Very. Eliot. Er — pleasant, lively, companionable young per- sons, or — You see, they're all strangers to me, aunt ; don't even know their names. Are they of characters calculated to cause me to bless the hour I entered the house, or — Mrs. D. EHot, they are lovely, sensible girls. Gladys is really very intellectual, Nina is witty, Maud is aesthetic, Ethel is natural, and — Eliot. Hold ! Enough ! Mrs. D. And I hope and trust that you will make your- self agreeable to them all in a cousinly way. Remember, you are the only man in the house. Eliot. I'll not forget it. Mrs. D. And be sure that you are impartial in your attentions. Eliot. I will do my best. Mrs. D. I have told them about you, and they are pre- pared to welcome you, and to accord you that sweet cousinly affection which — Eliot. Is my due. Mrs. D. Eliot ! Recollect, no trifling ; nothing but im- partial, equal attention. They expect it, and it should be your pleasure, as well as duty, to meet them half-way. Eliot. Three-quarters. SIX TO ONE. 7 Mrs. D. I shall be obliged to leave you just now one moment. {Exit Mrs. D., r.) Eliot. Certainly, aunt. "Impartial," "equal," "they expect it." They shall have it. But, by Jove ! I don't know of but one way of making myself agreeable to girls, and that is by making love to them. I've tried all the other ways, and always signally failed. They like that, and they do not like anything else ; and I'll be hanged if I can help giving a girl the sort of— of— well, bonbons, that she's fondest of. Hello, here's Aunt Dodge again, and— yes, a girl, a niece, no doubt, one of the illustrious five — in tow. Not bad-looking, either. (^Adjusts cravat at glass, C.) {Enter Mrs. D. ^«^ Gladys, r.) Mrs. D. Eliot, my dear, I wish to present you to your cousin, Gladys Ouincy, — your Boston cousin. Eliot. CousTn Gladys,' I am your most devoted. {Exit Mrs. D., l.) Gladys. Mr, Champney, I am indeed charmed to wel- come you to Newport and to your native land. Eliot. My dear cousin Gladys, could I but have known that such delightful relatives awaited me here, I should not have tarried abroad so long. Still, the benefits of foreign travel are — Gladys. Ah ! yes, doubtless. But Boston — you know Boston, cousin Eliot, of course ? Eliot. Never been there in my life. Gladys. Is — it—posAble? Well, then, of course, you are not really competent to judge of— anything. How sad ! Eliot. Very. But do make an exception. Don't you think, my dear cousin Gladys, that I might form some sort of a judgment on — woman's beauty, for example ? Gladys. Oh, cousin Eliot, what is beauty ? Eliot. Cousin Gladys, it is an entrancing commodity. Gladys. Oh, do not be so foohsh, so ephemeral, so friv- olous. Beauty is but the play of the vital fluid beneath the outer tissues ; beauty is but the de or z>/flection of the facial curve ; beauty is naught save the color of the optics, the hue of the capillary system, the symmetry of the auricular orifice. Beauty — bah ! Cousin Eliot, give me brains ! Eliot. Can't spare any, my dear cousin ; haven't enough for myself. Gladys. Oh, I didn't me— I meant that in comparison with culture, education, intellect, what mere perfection of out- line or — 8 SIX TO ONE. Eliot. But when one has both ? Gladys. One should then forget the physical in the ideal ; one should seek to sink the material in the mental. Eliot {pensively). I wonder if I ever could. Gladys. Certainly — if you try. Eliot. Will you, dearest Gladys, guide my — scientifically speaking — infantile footsteps in the paths that lead to that pure empyrean ? If you would — Gladys. Oh, gladly ! I have always longed, yearned, for a proselyte, a disciple, a pupil. Let me, dear cousin Eliot, wean you from the unprofitable mazes of the ball-room, and lead you, instead, to our Monday lectures. Eliot. Oh, willingly. Gladys. In lieu of the billiard-table, let me enroll you as a member of the Browning Society. {Draws out note-book.) Eliot. With delight. I am the owner of a Webster's Unabridged. (Gladys wj'ites in book.) Gladys. Rather than the unstable seductions of whist, cigars, the race-course, the polo ground, and the foils {draws out note-book No. 2), allow me to nominate you for election to the Nineteenth Century United Progressive and Intellect League. Eliot. By all means. (Gladys writes.) Gladys. There. Oh, cousin Eliot {clasps her hands tragically), I feel that my mission has begun. It is to lead your spfrit to a true knowledge of its inner and better self, to an appreciation of the glorious aims, the splendid possibilities, of your higher nature. What do Emerson, Carlyle, Lecky, Draper, Darwin, all tell us ? Eliot. Indeed, I don't know. Gladys. Well, you will learn. Eliot. I only know that you have led me into a path strewn with roses, where I have listened to the voice of an angel, looked into the eyes of a saint. Oh, Gladys, sweet cousin Gladys, do you not know that I love you? Gladys. Love me, cousin Eliot.-* Eliot. Oh, yes ; and you, Gladys, have you no love for me — not the least little bit in the world, eh ? Gladys {tragically). It is fate. It is nature. The in- exorable law finds no exception in my case. Eliot. You will love me, darling ? Gladys. Oh, Eliot, yes. (Eliot attejnpts to kiss her.) No, no. {Holds him at ami's length.) The moment is not SIX TO ONE. 9 a fitting one, I hear the sound of advancinoj footsteps. But, Eliot, — I feel it, I know it — together we will climb the hills of science ; together we will mount the ladder of philosophic research ; together we will scale the heights of intellectual — {^A 7ioise without?) Eliot {kisses her hastily). We will, my angel ; we will. {Enter Nina, c.) Nina. Oh ! I — I beg your pardon, Gladys, dear. I — Gladys. Nina, darling, let me introduce Eliot to you — our cousin, Eliot Champney ; Nina Crosby, our cousin from New York. {Both boiv.) Eliot. Delighted to meet my cousin Nina. Gladys. Nina dear — Eliot — you will excuse me ; I have an essay to prepare that must be sent to the League by to- night's mail. Nina. Certainly, dear. {Exit Gladys, kissing her hand to Eliot behind Nina's back.) I beheve Aunt Dodge said you had just arrived from Europe, cousin Eliot. I'm sure it's delightful to welcome a new cousin. Did you come by way of New York ? Eliot. How good you are ! Yes ; and direct here from the ship, Nina. How were stocks, did you notice ? Absolutely, it is Hke living in the wilderness here. Aunt Dodge disap- proves of the daily papers ; she says they are too sensational. Eliot. Er — no. I — to tell the truth, dear cousin Nina, I am not, you know, at all conversant with stocks and bonds. I am as poor as a church mouse, and see no way of bettering myself Nina. Oh, nonsense ! Why, now, if I were a man I would go into Wall Street with five hundred dollars, and I'd keep such an eye on the " market," while I stood upon the " curb- stone," that in less than one year I guarantee I'd be sitting in the New York Stock Exchange. Eliot. I haven't a doubt of it. And wouldn't — at least, if some bright, clever little girl would only take pity on me. {Aside.) I will not be accused of partiality. {Aloud.) If some one would only coach me — Nina. Why, I will, dear cousin Eliot ; I will. Oh, what is there like money ! Eliot. Nothing. I have never been able to find a sub- stitute for it, although I have tried very hard, I assure you. Tailors, boot-makers, hosiers, glovers — they all insist upon the necessity of money. lO SIX TO ONE. Nina. Sensible people ! What should we do without it ? Gladys prates of " intellect ; " we can't live upon that. What is there in this wide world that money cannot buy ? Eliot {sentimetitally^. Dearest cousin, can greenbacks or silver dollars purchase true affection ? Tell me. Nina. I' declare, you look really romantic. Well, no, I suppose not; but surely ^;z^ of — of two people must have something for them both to subsist upon. Eliot, Truly. And what man with a grand and noble nature would refuse the bounty that might come to him — the cigars and sealskin top-coats, the alligator boots and Poole trousers — from the white hand and generous purse of the woman who loved him and whom he loved ? Nina. Of course. Eliot. And, kindled at the fire of her eyes, ambition might seize him for her own. Armed with a few thousands {crosses with great fervor), shone upon by the light of her smile, he could plunge into the abyss of Wall Street, and perchance come out a conqueror. Nina. Oh, cousin Eliot, how eloquent you are ! Eliot. Dearest Nina, you inspire me. What bull or bear is there into whose arms I would not rush, could I but know that you — {E?nbarrassed.') Nina. That I ? {Crosses to him.) That I, EHot? Eliot. That you — oh, Nina, what will — what must you think of me ? But the " Immortals knew each other at first sight, And Love is of them." Nina. You — love me? Eliot. Deeply. Dare I hope that you in return care a little — a very little — for me } Nina. Oh, Eliot, I — {Enter, c, Maud.) Eliot {perceives her). Ye gods ! {Aside.) This must be number three. Maud. Nina darling, aunt — Oh, I beg your pardon! Nina. Maud, love, this is Eliot Champney, Aunt Dodge's nephew. Miss Lawton, Ehot. Maud, I will go to aunt at once. Eliot {kisses Nina's hajtd behind Maud). And this {Exit Nina, c.) is my cousin Maud. {Stands before her.) My little Philadelphia cousin, is it not ? Maud. Yes, cousin Eliot, I belong to the Philadelphia SIX TO ONE. II branch. And you ? I can't seem to place you on the family tree at all. I've been trying all the morning. See, here it is. {At table, L. c, displays chart.) Now, where do you belong ? Eliot. Alas ! I do not know. I fear I am one of those unprofitable twigs of whom the parent trunk takes no cogni- zance. Maud. Ah ! {Regretfully.) I am so sorry ! I never feel quite — quite sure of any one until I can place them. Eliot. Dear cousin Maud, couldn't you try to — er — " place " me .'* I should be so grateful to find out who I am through the instrumentality of such a being as — {Holds miri'or up to her face?) Maud. Would you ? Would you really ? Well, then, we will go straight to work. Now {they sit\ let me see ; your mother was {traces on chart with pencil) Aunt Dodge's half-sister, and your grandfather, Antony Pomeroy, was — let me see — Eliot. Can't I assist you ? {Takes chart impressively.) Dearest cousin mine, behold ! Here aloft, on this topmost limb, hangs my father. Maud. Oh, where > {Gazes.) Yes, to be sure — the worthy scion of a noble race. Oh, cousin Eliot {ecstatically), what is there to equal blood ? {Holds chart over her head.) Eliot. Nothing, sweet cousin Maud — nothing. There has not yet been discovered, so far as I know, any equivalent for the vital fluid. Rob a man of that, and you rob him of life itself {Emphasis.) Maud. Is it not so ? Oh, I am so happy to find that you feel as I do on this important subject ! Eliot. According to my poor light, dear cousin Maud. If you — {Crosses. Aside.) Spirit of impartiality, I invoke thy aid ! {Crosses. To Maud.) If you would undertake to inculcate in my alien soul the true principles of — of — Maud. Heraldry, heredity, genealogy, and — Eliot. Precisely. How happy I should be ! Maud. Would you ? Eliot. Ah, would I ! Dearest Maud, I — I dare, now that you have "placed " me, now that you know tis no lowly born or undescended wretch who stands before you — I dare to — Maud. Oh, Eliot, not really — Eliot. I love you. May I venture to hope that you are not indifferent to me ? 12 SIX TO ONE. Maud. Oh, no ; I could not be " indifferent " to a mem- ber of our family. Eliot. You love me ? Maud., Sincerely. (Y.tta'Ei. heard singing.^ {Enter Ethel, r.) Ethel. Hello, Maud! Oh, is this our cousin Eliot? How are you ? {Shakes hands with hwt.) Eliot. I am delighted — delighted. Maud. Eliot, I — Ethel {down c. Aside). 'Pon my word, he's better- looking than his photo. Why, he's a perfect dear. Eliot {kissiti^ Maud's brow., up c). Must you leave me, dearest ? Well — Maud. I must seek the fresh air. {Exit Maud, c.) Ethel {sits). Which do you like best, coz, New York or Paris .? {Eats bonbons?) Eliot. Neither. But I {stands before her) adore New- port. 'Etu'EL {coquet tishly). Why? Eliot {aside). Number four is decidedly brisk. {To Ethel.) Because, cousin Ethel, I find jyou here. Ethel. Dear me, how lovely ! Have a chocolate cream ? Do. Eliot. Only half of one ; half of yours. Thanks. Ethel. How do you like Maud ? Eliot. Immensely. She is /^?^r cousin. Ethel. Have you met the rest ? Eliot. Some of them, but I forget which ones now. Ethel. Fond of the theatre ? Eliot, Are you ? Ethel. Guess 1 am! Eliot. Then so am I. Ethel. Do you like tobogganing ? Eliot. I delight in anything involving risk, even the risk of breaking my neck. Eth el. Or your heart — eh ? Eliot. Or my heart, if I have one. Ethel. Oh, pshaw ! Guess you haven't lost it yet, have you? (Coyly.) Eliot. Have I not ? Oh, dearest cousin Ethel, upon my soul {confused), a fellow who stops long in America hasn't much chance of keeping his b^ad, setting aside his heart. If you — SIX TO ONE. 13 Ethel. If I ? Go ahead. (A pause.) Fire away. If I ? Well ? Eliot. Don't you know, Ethel ? Ethel. Give it up. Eliot. I — I love you, Ethel. Ethel. Oh, chestnut ! Tell me something new^nd strange, can't you .'' Eliot. Have you no affection for — for me? Ethel. Bushels! Lots! Eliot. Dearest Ethel ! Ethel {tragically). Adored Eliot! Oh, say, Ellie {mat- ter- of -fad ly), don't buy me a solitaire ; I'd rather have a clus- ter. {Noise without.) Oh, mercy upon us ! that's Aline. I know her step. {Starts away.) See you later. It is Aline. She's the fifth cousin — the French one. Can't stay. You must introduce yourself while I run to tell Aunt Dodge that I'm engaged at last. {Exit l.) Eliot. "Engaged!" {£?iter, c, Aune, slowly.) Aline! AWne /lere / It cannot — no — yes — {To Aline.) Aline, ma petite I mon petit tresor ! Aline {seeing him). Eliote ! toil Oh, quel bonheur ! Are you — you the nephew that Aunt Dodge expects } Eliot. I am, my darling. And you — you are — she is — Aline. I am ze niece — ze French niece — and she ees ze female relative zat I come to visit. Eliot. Oh, I see. And you never got my letter ? Aline. Not a line, tres cher. Eliot. But you knew that I loved you ; that to me you are the only woman in the world ; that however far my foot- steps {aside) or my words {to Aline) may have wandered, my heart was,,is, ever shall be, yours alone, u'est-ce pas., cherie ? {Enter, c, Mrs. D., holding with one hand Ethel and Gladys, with the other Nina a7id Maud, their faces in- dicative of horror, anger, and consternation.) Mrs. D. {advancing with four girls). You scapegrace, Eliot ! Maud. Unprincipled deceiver ! '\ Ethel. Fraud! \( aji ^t ^«y^\ Gladys. Wretch! \{All at once.) Nina. Pauper ! J Eliot. Dearest aunt, beloved cousins, spare my blushes, and AJine's. I know too well all that you would say. I feel 14 SIX TO ONE. only too sure of your heartfelt congratulations {all stagger with astonishment^, your loving good wishes. Aunt Dodge, you have ever been a mother to me. Sweet cousins, I know you all love me, and will rejoice in my happiness. Aunt, be- hold your scapegrace nephew's seraph. Bless us. Don't refuse, I implore. {Kneels, Aline also.') Mrs. D. But — these disappointed — Eliot. No"/^z^/i"." {The four girls express scorn and disjnay.) I promised to be impartial. I will be. They shall all, all be my bride's — {Clasps Aline.) AiA. {inc hiding Ai.m'E). What! What! Eliot. — Maids / Mrs. D. Oh, you scapegrace ! (Eliot and Aline, c, Mrs. D., u. c, blessing them as they kneel, Gladys and Maud, l., Ethel and Nina, r. as music ff.) CURTAIN. FOUR NEW "DARKEY" PLAYS, THE HAN ABOUT TOWN. A NEGRO FARCE IN ONE ACT. By E. BOVVERS and G. H. GOES. Four male and one female characters. Several changes of scene — - not diffi- ilt. This is a very lively piece, full of fun and incident. Plays twenty minutes. Price 15 Cents. TRICKS UPON TRAVELLERS. A NEGRO ACT IN ONE SCENE. Arranged by GEO. H. GOES. Three male characters. Scenery, costumes, and properties very easy. This is an act for two low comedians and a genteel darkey. Can be worked up to be very funny. Plays only twelve minutes. Price 15 Cents. The Three O'Clock Train. A NEGRO ACT IN ONE SCENE. Arranged by GEO. H. GOES. Three male characters ; one does not speak. Scenery, costumes, and proper- ties very simple. This sketch depends largely upon good " business," and in the hands of a good negro comedian will convulse the audience. Plays fifteen minutes. Price 15 Cents. The Intelligence Office. A NEGRO FARCE IN ONE ACT. Arranged by GEO. H. GOES. Two male characters (negro), and one female (Irish), played usually by a man. Sceiiery and costumes easy. This is a very funny and lively piece for a good negro and Irish comedian. Great opportunity for fine " business." Plays twenty minutes or more. Price 15 Cents. PRESS or S.J.PARKHILL&Co 218-226 FRANKLIN STREET BOSTON, U.S.A. HEADQUARTERS For an kinds of Printing for Amateur Theatricals BOOKS PLAYS PROGRAMS CIRCULARS TICKETS EVERYTHING that can be printed With PACILlTreS UNSURPASSED, ^e solicit your patronage Call and see us or write us concerning: your printing We print aU the W. H. Baker & Co. Plays. «t& B AKER^S SELECTED LIST OF JUVENILE OPERETTAS Designed especially for Church, School, and other Amateur Organ- izations. Complete, with all the music and full directions for performance. Grandpa's Birthday. In One Act. Words by Dexter Smith; music by C. A. Whitic. For one adult (male or female) and three children; chorus, if desired. Pbice, 25 Cknts. Jimmy, The Newsboy. In One Act. "Written and composed by W. C. Parker. For one adult (male), and one boy. No chorus. Very easy and tuneful. Price, 25 Cents. The Four-leafed Clover. In Three Acts. By Mary B. Horne. For children of from six to fifteen years. Seven boys, seven girls, and chorus. Very picturesque. Price, 50 Cents. Beans and Buttons. In One Act. Words by Wm. H. Lepere; music by Alfred G. Mobyn. Two male and two female characters; no chorus. Very comical and easy. Price, 50 Cents. Hunt the Thimble. In One Act. Words by A. G. Lewis; music by Leo R. Lewis, Two male, two female characters and small chorus. Simple and pretty. Price, 50 Cents. Red Riding Hood's Rescue. In Four Scenes. Words by J. E. Estabrook; music by J. A&tor Broad. Three male, four female characters and chorus. Price, 50 Cents. Golden Hair and the Three Bears. In Five Scenes. By J. Astor Broad. Three adults (2 m., 1 f.), eight children and chorus. Music is easy, graceful, and pleasing. Price, 75 Cents. R. E. Porter; or, The Interviewer and the Fairies. In Thiee Acts. Words by A. G. Li:wis; music by Leo R. Lewis. Six male, six female characters, and chorus. Very picturesque and pretty. Price, 75 Cents. Gyp, Junior. In Two Acts. Words by Earl Marble; music by D. F. Hodges. Two males, one female (adult), three children and chorus. Very successful and easily produced. Price, 75 Cj!:nts. AlvinGray; or, The Sailor's Return. In Three Acts. Written and composed by C. A. White. Ten characters, including chorus; can be made more effective by employing a larger number. Price, 75 Cents. Catalogues describing the above and other popular entertain- ments sent free on application to WALTER H. BAKER & CO., THEATRICAL PUBLISHERS, No. 23 Winter Street, - Boston, Mass. NEW OI LIBRARY OF CONGRESS Odd Opef 014 212 002 1 # A Collection of Short a.-v. ^««p.6 xtiuoiwoi umcitainmcnts idi" Children By Mrs. C. N. BORDMAN, Author of *'The Kingdom of Mother Goose," "Motion Songs for the School- liooM," "The Temperance Clarion," etc. Complete with all the music and full instructions for performance. This collection is strongly recommended for its simplicity, originality of idea, tunefulness and perfect prac- ticability. Price 50 cents. coisrTsisrTS. A GLIMPSE OF THE BROWNIES. A Musical Sketch for Chil dren. For any number of boys. JIMMY CROW. A Recitation for a Little Girl. MARKET DAY. An Operetta for Young People. Seven speaking parts and chorus. QUEEN FLORA'S DAY DREAM. An Operetta for Children. Six speaking parts and chorus. THE BOATING PARTY. A Musical Sketch for Little Children. Thirty boys and girls. SIX LITTLE GRANDMAS. A Musical Pantomime for very Little Children. Six very little girls. A HOUSE IN THE MOON. A Recitation for a Little Girl. ROBIN'S SPECIFIC; OR, THE CHANGES OF A NIGHT. A. Christmas Operetta in Onk Act. Words by AMELIA SANFORD. Music by ADAM CIEBEL. For one adult and nine children from eight to sixteen years old, with eight very little boys atid twelve little girls for Chorus. Three changes of scene, very easily arranged, costumes varied but simple and readily procured. Very etfective and easily gutien up. Price 8.5 cents. Catalogues describing the above and other popular entertainments sent free on application U WALTER H. BAKER & CO., THEATRICAL PUBLISHERS, No. 23 Winter Street. - - BOSTON, MASS. 8. 4. rARKHIUL & CO.. PRiNlfcRS. 222 TRANKl I