! AMERICAN ACTINC DRAMA .-ai: :^>^ .a;^ J t [ PUBLISHED BY t ^r "^g av ^ r. a^ x;. :n DRAHATIC PUBLISniNC COriPAINYH ^::3j CHARLES H SERCEL Presidant ^ >. F-, Downes and Button, who come down R.side to front. Enter, same, Tollit.* Mrs. W. Mr. Dutton ? (puzzled.) DuT. George not homo yet ? Mrs. W. He has not come in yet. What do you want with him. Ddt. I'd rather not say before third parties, {indicating Milly.) DowNES. Who is that ? Mrs. W. That's Miss Rigg — a friend of mine, and George's. You can say anything you have got to say before her. I am not ashamed of George, and I know he is not ashamed of me. ToL. Better let me speak, gentlemen. The sooner we get it out, the sooner the young woman will get over it. The fact is, it's a small mat- ter of robbery. Mi^. Rubbery ! Mrs. W. Robbery, and my George ! {deep unbelief.) Enter, d. p., Warner, throws Ms cap l. and comes down l. c, whistling lighUy ; when about to embrace Mrs. Warner, sees Dutton. War. Mr. Downes ! and Mr, Button ! {sees Tollit, with contempt) What, does he want here? (Mrs. Warnar clings to him.) Dut. George, we have missed something from the office—— Mrs. W. And they suspect you of taking it Dut. Only he and you were in the place at the time. War. Why, she has not been near your office ! Dut. Oh, yes, she has. Mrs. W. It is true. War. And you never told me ? Mrs. W. I meant to spare you the pain of a refusal, George, though I did not know then how painful it would be. War. Well, what of it 7 Because an honest man asked his employers to lend him a few pound.s, is he to have his home broken into by police- men like this ? But. It is not that, George. War. What then ? Is it some lie trumped up to bind a man down here when he wants to go to a country where a working man is not ex- posed to being intruded into like this. But. George, you and your wife, were left alone in our office, where the cash-box was, in an open drawer. You knew where it was, and wliat it was, for you said to me that it contained money that yoa had earned, and twenty times as much ! War. So I did, and so it is. ToL. Better not say any more. It may be used against you. War. Better your bad word than your good. Out of my house (Mes'. Warner and Millt cling to him) or I'll smash you, policeman though you are. ToL. You see, gentlemen, T was right when I said we had better have help at hand, {blows whistle) Easy does it. No violence, my man. Enter, d p., Two Policemen. Look there! (Mrs. Warner /«?«<« m Milly's a«<^ Warner's arms) The young woman is took bad. * Tollit.* Button* * Milly. POWNES.* *MRa. Wabneb, 18 , ' "hakt waknee,' War. This 5s my reward for all I have done for you (looJcs at Dptton) and him. {looks at Downes.) DuT. I'm sorry for you, George. This comes of giving way to all the wild schemes of co-operation and taking possession of " your own." War. {fiercely). How dare you accuse me of talking your dirty money ? ToL. It's two to one against you. Begin your search, (/o ^Ae Police- men) There hasn't been time to hide anything. {Ist Policeman fi.Hds notes in paper on side-board up c. and gives to Tollit) Wliathave we here % Notes — the notes. Which of you gentlemen took the number of the notes. (PowNES gives him a paper) Do tl.ey run to tally ? Beyond a doubt. Here's five of them any how ! {general emotion.) War. Five of the notes here"? ToL. Is this chisel yours ? {chisel taken wp from table.) War. Yes. ToL. {examines chisel). This is the instrument the box was opened with. {to Police) Looli for the cash-box — it can't be far off. {2d Policeman finds cash-box, l ) Mrs. W. {aside, looking at Warner suspiciously). This is the first time that I have been ashamed for him. {2d Policeman gives Tollit th6 eash-box. ) War. What proof have you % Get out of my house ! ToL. Empty ! of course. Stand at the door ! {to \st Policeman) Here is the proof. It's a complete case, {general consternation) Parties left alone in parlies' ofiice — parties' casii-box missing— i)ariie3 says that the money was their own by rights — casii-box found in parties' room, with parties' chisel to fit parties' cash-box. Now then, which of yuu gentlemen gives him in charge 1 Mrs. W. George ! George ! {aside) He won't speak, {aloud) Stop ! he is innocent ! ToL. Oh, of course, you will swear to it ! DuT. Then, who did it % Mrs. W. {wildly and powerfully). Take me away, for it was 1 1 Mil. ? V I WAB.iY«"' Put. She! All form picture. * Policeman. * Downes. *2nd Policeman. ♦DtJTTON. *ToLLiT. * Mrs. Warner. * Warner. *MiLLr. CURTAIN. ACT ir. SCENE I. — Rocni in 1st grooves. Enter, l., Millt and Tunks. Mil. {to B. c). Come in, Mr. Tunks. {gets her sewing r ) Here's my little room I thank you very much for seeing me home. Shan t I get you someibing'? Tjjnks (l. c). No, thauk you. 1 never take anything before dinner, /ICT II. 19 Mil. Won't you take a chair, at least ? Tdnks. Ah ! that won't get into ray head, (chuckles, teats himself l. c.) You see, my dear, 1 have grown-up daughters of my own and I wouldn't Uke to let them walk alone all the way from Brixton, and they are neither as young nor as pretty as you, my dear ! meaning no offence, my dear. Mil. It's such a good protection to have your arm, sir. TuNKS. Yes, there's not much to fear with me. Mil. Only to think, though, that when I first went to visit Mary Warner in the prison, you quite frightened me. TuNKS. I am glad of it. Mil. {surprised). Glad of it "? Tdnks. Yes. You see, my dear, we prison authorities have to culti- vate an^^ir that will strike terror into the evil-doers. Mil. You are kind enough to he my father. TuNKS. I wish I was, and happy and proud I would be of it. Such well-conducted girls are rare. Ah ! it's a consolation to know that we have our rules and regulations for us while we are on duty; and when we are off, we have one rule : " Do as you would be dene by." Mil. You dear, kind, old man, 1 have a great mind to give you a great big kiss. TuNKS. Don't balk your inclination, my dear. 1 have daughters ol my own, and I am used to it. Mil. {kisses him). That's for being so kind to me. {kisses him) And that's for being so kind to Mary Warner. TuNKS. Ah ! it would be hard not to be kind to her, poor scul ! It's a hai-d trial for her, but bravely she bears it. Why, she has done more good in that there prison than a ton of tracts. I often wonder how she could ever have taken that cash-box. I wouldn't believe it unless she had confessed it. Mil. I'll not believe it. No; not if all the policemen in London swore to it till they were as blue as their coats. TuNKS. Mr. Tollit told me as how it was the prettiest piece of cir- cumstantial evidence as ever was heard in the Central Criminal Court. It's my belief the devil was at her elbow when she did it. The old gen^ lleman is sometimes let off duty down below to have his diversion up here. Mil. It's so unfortunate ! her happy home broken up, her little one motherless, and her husband lonely. And only because she helped her- self when tho.se that ought to have behaved better, refused what would lave been only a drop in the bucket. It was the stinginess of Dutton jL Downes that caused it all Tdnks No, my dear. Pity her, if you will, but don't excuse her, not before one of the authorities. Mil. 1 won't excuse her husband. George has not been to see her since she was in, has he 1 Tcnks. Ah! that's like the women. There's no cruelly to you so dreadful as desertion. There's many a woman in our place wliose hus- band never comes to ask after her, but there's no man wliose wife doesn't come on the visiting-day, as punctual as the clock. Ah, my dear, your hearts are larger than ours, though your heads are smaller ! It's hard upon her, though, to be shunned by him, when she probably only committed the theft in the idea of helf.ing her husband. Mil. I have written to him. He shall go and see her ! Tcnks. I hope he will, iuses) She deserves that comfort if ever a prisoner did Well, good-by, my dear. I will tell her anything yovj tjave to tell her. 20 HAKY WARNER. Mil. I have nothing worth your takiiis, Mr. Tanks — only ray love. TcNKS. That's the best thing I could lake to her, next to her husband. Mil. Heaven bless you for ail your kindness to lier. You are only too good to her and me. Won't you call on Monday, and have a cup of tea ? {going l. with Tdnks.) Tpnks. Monday 1 Monday 7 I am engaged Monday, but I can come Tuesday, and come I will. Mil. Thank you. Good-by ! Tpnks. Qood-by! [Exit, u Mil. {returns to c). Poor Mary I It is certainly hard for her to be left alone by him whom she has most right to expect to come to cheer her, while her only friends are strangers. Only to think of the good advice that she gave me only the last time before she went away. It was well I followed it, for nothing good would have come to me by my sharing the shifting fortunes of that wreich Bob Levitt. He's gone off on the tramp — I wish I had him here, I'd tramp him. I hope I shall never see him again, {knock, l. d.) Who's that 1 Bob 1 Come in ! Enter Wabneb, l., dejected in look. Oh ! George Warner 1 I am glad to see you. So you got my note ? Wab. {sadly). Yes, Milly, I got your letter. Thank you. Mil. I knew you must be lonely — AVar. I am very lonely Mil. Then what must she be with no one to see her. War. {taket seat c). I have often thought of that these six months we have been apart. My dear Mary ! At the time when you were gone to see her, I have been imagining how she looked, and I have fancied myself with her. How 1 wanted to hear what she was saying to you Mil. How she longs to see you — how she talks of the love she bears for you ! ■ War. Mine has grown for her as I have sat up in our cold and lonely room, that used to be so brightened by her. You don't know what a trial it is, to turn aside ilie questionsof a babbling child ; to see the neighbors avoid me as 1 come along home, and my mates in the shop look askant at me. Oh 1 if it had not been that I had hard work and my little one, I sliould have taken to drink, or gone for a soldier ! But for the child, it would have been hard not to to think (hoarsely) of making away with myself some way. Mil And leave Mary still more alone 1 War. Poor girl! poor giil ! what must be her life in there? Its a long time to look forward to until I can see her. Mil. Why do you wait ? War. What ! {sternly) when she has brought disgrace on my name, and cast a cloud on her ir.nocent child's future. If she is suffering, so am I in sorrow, even beyond hers, for in her was set my pride, my love, my joy. Mil. What she has done, she did for you, remember. War. So it was, poor lass ! (^relenting.) Mil, So you will go to cheer her up a little ? won't yon, now ? War. Go and see her in that dark dress, behind the railing which I put up with these hands, {hides his eyes as tf to shut out the imagined sight) With the ring out of my voice and the peace out of my breast ! Mil. Let me not go alone, and answer her again that you would not come ! Wab. {rites). You are right, Milly ! I will go and see herl 4CT II. 21 Mill. I knew you would when you once thought of what she suffers for you, Wak. Yes, she was so pood that tlie black work could have been done only for uie. The shame was broiigiit upon lier, all for me, I know, I will go ! I will try not to look harsiily on her — only to look at her as slie tliaL I loved so dearly that the thought of separation was my great- est grief! And how are we parted nowl I wont upbraid her, I will speak to her words of hope, and comfort, and consolation. Mil. 1 will go with yon, George, (simply) I know the way from hav- ing been the road so often. Wak. •Jakes her hand). Heaven bless you, for all your kindness to ray poor Mary ! I will go home — home {very pathetically) to see baby is well — she will ask the last news of her — and then I will go. Wait till I come back. Mil. That's a brave George! I knew you would act like this, [exit Warner, L.) Oh! tiiat's done, {sings and waltzes about) " A-walkir)g in the Zoo, a-walking in the Zoo 1 " He will go and gladden her heart! I am so happj' — I never was so happy in my life, {changed tone) No! I am not happy ! I am miserable, very miserable, and all along of that wretch Bob Levitt ! {knock l.) Come in 1 {seated r , sewing) Come in f I believe the people are all deaf in the house. Enter, L., Bob Levitt, very wretched in looks and tone of voice. Lev. What, Milly, don't you know me 1 Mil. So it is you, is it 1 {pretendedly scornful.) Lev. May I come in, Milly? {entering timidly.) Mil. You look as if you had come in, already, {rises) You are a pret- ty object, you are ! Lev. Then there's a couple of us, Milly. (approaching her) You are prettier than ever, Milly ! Mil. How dare you come to me after staying away so long while you had plenty of money ? Lev. Don't you repulse me, Milly ? The money's gone and the false friends went along with it — I haven't a valuable article to show in ex- change for it. I haven t a kind face to turn to, but yours. Mil. You had far better take yourself off. I am very angry with you, Bob Levitt. Lev. {doll fully). Not half so angry as I am with myself. Mil. Yon are a wretch ! Lev. Desp'rate! or I'd never more Iiave shown my face here. Mil Yon have been on the tramp Lev. Till I haven't a shoe lo my foot. Mil. You have been " on the fuddle. ' l,ev. Till there's not a vein in my body but jumps and throbs like a punclnng-machine. I've been ill treated by them that courted me in my brighter days, and I ve b en kicked out of the very doors where I spent uiy money. No one will have me, no one will look at me, and so (mournfully) I have come back to you ! Mil. Like a bad shilling. Thank you, I am very proud of the pre- ference. Lev. I know you think badly of me. But every one has some good in him that must show some daj'. You don't know how ripe for repent- ance a man is when he is so awfully hungry and dry as me this moment. I am confoundedly ashamed of myself, and if you could make me more ashamed, I would feel obliged to you. Mil. Oh, you say so. 22 MART WARNEE. Lev. Miily, you might make me another man. I have been bandied about till I'm dizzy and dazed. Renioise has thrown me to liquor, and liquor has thrown me back to remorse. Milly, I'm regularly going to the bad. Mil. Regularly gone, I think. Lev. Not yet, Milly ; not yet. I have one chance yet, {dolefully) Milly, marry me ! Mil. Oh ! {recedes from him a little) And go to the bad along with you. {fosses her head) Thank you ! Lev. Oil Milly, you can help me back to the right road. I think I could go steady in double harness, with a good clear head like yours to guide me, and your light hand on tiie reins. All 1 want is some one to love and live for. I love you, Milly. Don't say you won't have me. If you will only see some good in me, it will be there for you to bring it out. Mil. I never heard of such a thing ! such impudence ! To be sure, you are very low down in the world, and I cant help but feel for you. Lev. You don't know how welcome your pity is. You can save me from destruction here, and the devil and the deep, deep sea hereafter ! {pathetically) Oh Milly, if ever a woman earned heaven by saving a man from the other place, you may be that woman ! Dare you trust met Mil. You look as if you were miserable. Lev. Not more than I feel. Mil. Are you not ashamed of yourself 1 Lev. {groans). Awfully ! Mil. An object of charity. Lev. I haven't a copper. Mil If I forgive you, will you promise to give up drinking, and stick to your work for the next three months ? Lev. I will Mil. Ah, ah ! Lev. That is, I will try ; and with your help — And you will have me? Mil. {turns away). I will think about it. Lev. Ah! {joyfully.) Mil Stop a bit! I have not finished with you yet. I can goon scolding you as we go over to George Warner's. Lev. {taken by surprise and horror). George Wainer 1 {stammering, re- ceding to B..) 1 can't stand seeing him, poor fellow ! Mil. (c). Ah ! that's just like you men! You won't speak to your old male because he is in trouble. He's rot been oi.ce to see his poor wife, because she is in prison. If he had been in, she would have been there ten times a month. Lev. How does poor Mary bear it 1 Mil. Like a woman ; that is, a great deal better than any man. Lev. But she confessed that she took the box. Mil. Who would have believed it if she had not 1 Lev. Milly, she no more took it than I — {quickly) you ! Mil. How do you know ? Lev. {ytanime7-ing). Why, look at her character ! Mil. Her character ! You mean, then, that it must have been George. It lies between her and him. ' Lev. I duii't believe it was more her than George. It was that is— I mean — Mil. What do you mean ? Lev. Lord help mc ! T don't know what I mean I (Milly gets hat and mantle on and goes h.) Don't mind me. IVa ihe D. T. {dehrunu t]anens^ Don't leave rae, Milly, don't leave roe alone ! I want drink - ACT ir. ^i Mil. {takes his fiand). You want pnysic. Vou are very ill, Bob Levitt, and 1 won't leave yoii till you have seen tlie doctor. Lev. No. no ! a drop of brandy, {hoarsdi/.) Mil. ( drmly). Not one ! take one, and yoii have spoken your last word to Milly Rigg. i^drags Mm off i^.) Lev. a drop of braudyl [Exit, l., struggling with Millt. Scene changes to SCENE 11,^-Interior of Prison in 4th grooves. Singing of hymn by Femaie Voices heard off stage, B. pjnter, r. u. e., to opening c, Tunks and Warner. TtTNKS. Uncommon fond of singing they are, to be sure. Poor things i This is jyhere you stand ; she will come through that door (^points to R. p.) and will stand there. There's the matroa'a place. But, I forgot, you have done work in this cell ? War. Yes. {sadly) I put up tliose rails. TuNKS. Then you understand. There goes the lock. They are coming. War. Then we will not be alone. TuNKS. Only the matron. There's the rules and regulations. Yon will have twenty minutes— good measure for her sake, {pause) Speak kindly to her 1 she wants it, poor thing ! and she deserves it ! [Exit, B. u. B. Enter, b, d., Mrs. Warner and Matron. Matron enters the enclosed space, and takes seat there, r, Mrs. Warner comes to r. c. Mrs. W. George, my husband ! {they look at each other. Both are sub- dued in voice and manner up to the dose of the Act, when Mrs. Warner gives way to her emotion in the wildest manner) You are there, George ? War. Yes, Mary, I am here. Mrs. W. You are not much changed ; you are paler. War. That's bettor than I could expect. Mrs. W. It's six months since I wrote to you, and you did not answer ; not even have you written to me. 1 don't want to reproach you, George, now that I do have you here Speak to nip, George. War. {tearfully). My poor lass, my poor lass ! Mrs W. Don't cry, dear. Remember, we have only twenty minute — don't let us waste them. Dear baby, is she well and happy f War. Well and happy. Mrs. W. Who have you had to take care of her? War. Mrs. Russell has been very good to her, and Milly Rigg looks in often. Mrs. W. Heaven rewaid them. Milly has a good heart. How are you getting on? War. I have not been out of work. I am at Wheeler's, with a better berth than I had at Dutton's, and ten shillings rise. Mrs. W. I am so glad of it, I am so glad of that. Does baby ask where is her mother 1 War. Often, and that's what cuts my heart. Mrs. W. And what do you tell her ? War. That mother has gone away, a long way off. Mrs. W. Yes, a long way from her — {quickly) but you tell her that I shall come back soon. I don't mind it so very much, though five years seems so long. But they will take off a year and more of it, and {turm 24 MART WARNER. to Matron) I have no reports against me, do I, ma'am? ( Lev. Not Milly I (to r. c) Who is it then 1 Mrs W, Do yon not know me "? Have you forgotten Mary Warner % Lev. Mary Warner! (very excited) Forgotten you ! (hoarsely) I wish I could forget you ! But is it you, or (in terror) your ghost ! I've seen that often enough, Heaven knows ! Are you real, or is it D. T. 1 Mrs. W. (coldly). I am the real Mary Warner. I heard your child cry and came in to spend the night with it, not knowing it was Milly's, my old friend's. Lev. You came in to nurse my child ? (goes up to bed) Is he so bad. Mrs. W. Perhaps dying ! Lev. Not that ! (opens curtain at the side and looks within) Have I TTronsht you to this, poor little beggar ! and beggar's brat ! Right you are, Bob ! not a penny to put life into his little weakly body, or to get his poor father a drop of brandy to warm him this miserable weather. [to c, Mrs Warner coming down and to K. G. front) Where, do you say, has Milly gone ? Mrs. W. Gone to the pawnbroker's. Lev. (surprised). To the pawnbroker's ! Well, I'm glad she has got something to pop ! I haven't — my venerable uncle would turn up his Qose at my rags. Mrs. W. (quietly). I lent her my wedding-ring. Lev. So you have been standing my wife's friend ! You find money 28 MA.KT WAKNER, for my poor child, you that got five years' penal for the robbery of that cash- box ! Mrs. W. Ah ! 1 have told the truth to you wif — I am innocent. I never took it. Lev. Ah ! {sadly) who knows that better than I ? Mrs. W. I did not do it, though 1 confe.ssed to the act. Lev. That's what floors me. {very excitedly) You wait here till I come back! Don't be afraid ! It's not D. T. this time— I am not going to make a hole in the water. I must find Miily ! {inoves about frantically') I'll make a clean breast of it. As well first as last — there had to be an end of it some day — I'm tired of it ! What if they do give me " penal ! " Milly will get along much better without me. than With such a millstone round her innocent Beck. And the kid ! {staggers to bed) No ! I can't give myself up ! I should feel I was making him a poor little orphan — robbing him of a father at the very time when he wants him most. I must see Milly ! {gcis l.) You wait here ! [Extt, l. d. Mrs. W. {to c )■ What does he mean ? Is he drunk ? what's that he fays about knowing my innocence better than me. and making a clean breast of it? of what? Oh! if George — if George after all should not be the one — and all these j ears of sorrow to us both ! Oh ! I must see bim again, and make him tell me all. {goes l.) Enter, L. d., nervously, Milly. Mil. Oh ! {starts bach, and then goes to table and looks at purae in her hand.) Mbs, W. Have you not seen your husband % Mil. {hoarsely). No I has he been in 1 Mrs. W. He has just gone out to meet you. Mil. I must have passed him on the stairs, {givei Mrs. Warner ri«^) Never mind — I couldn't face him now. {wipes forehead with sleeve. Gives showl to Mrs. Warner, who mechamcally puts it on.) Mrs. W. What ! {sadly) wouldn't they lend you anything on it 1 {puts on ring.) Mil. I didn't ask. {takes com, leaves purse on table) They are all closed. I met a kind gentleman in the street, and he let me have a lot of money. There's some for you. Mrs. W. How your hand trembles ! how ycur heart beats! Mil. {stammers). I have been running, {gets bosket up l. and goes to L. D ) I will soon come back, {astde, at l. d.) Ah, my darling, you shan't starve now ! [Exit, l. d., with basket. Mrs. W. My ring has brought good luck to her. Milly, the proud and light-hearted, forced to beg I How wild she looked, {goes to table) She will have all she wants for the child, {starts, takes up purse) Four sovereigns I what a lot of money {starts ivith great surprise) This purse ! how strange ! it is the very color and make of one I netted for George ! the first present I made him after our marriage. Oh, then we were so happy that no one could have dreamt of such days as these. Is the night as dark to him as to me. Oh, that I might see him again ! any way, any where, have the sight of my husband, (c.) Voices, L., and scuffle. Mrs. Floyd, entering, l. I tell you that it's a mistake ! it can't in reason be here 1 ACT III. 29 Enter, l. d., Tollitt, Two Policemen, several Women and Children fur crowd. Mrs. Warner goes up c. Mrs. Floyd, r.* Mrs. W. Hush ! ToL. (c. front). Of course ! tliis is the most respectable room in the most respectable house in PlumUee Court, which is the most respectable court in Westminster. Ah ! {sees Mrs. Warner) That's you, young woman ! I want you to come with us. Mrs. W. Wanted to come with you ? where ? ToL. In the first place to the Rochester Road station-bouse. Mrs. W. Station-house % ToL. Yes I Mrs. W. What for 1 ToL. For robbery from the person as we call it, but I suppose you would ca41 it a lark ! Police. Ha, ha, ha ! Mrs. W. {aside, glancing at Millt, who hangs her head). I understand it all now ! {aloud) Robbery ! Why, I have not been out of the bouse this night ! Mrs. Floyd. Not she ! ToL. Of course, not ! Police. Ha, ha ! Mrs. Floyd ( Rtv. Not ihe woman ! Why you said that you could notrecogonize by hei face ? 'ar. Yes, but I know her voice. That is not it— I swear that is not , voman. -> 8cRiv. Then she need not call witnesses in her defence. Pri.soner is iTiscliarged. Call the next case. Lev. a jolly good job for us ! (Mrs. Warner leaves deck hastily.) War. Stop that woni^in — I want lo speak to her ToL. {pushes Police aside). No ! Mrs. AV. Let me go! I want to go ! {goes to l. d.) ToL. {to Police). You have no right to stop her. Sue is discnarged. War. {frantically). 1 must speak to her. All form picture. 31 MAKT WARNEK. ToLLiT keeps Police /rom touching Mrs- Warner going to l. d. Warneb is detained by Scriven. All are on their feet, excited. * ScRrvEM. * Levitt. * Milly. Police. * Clebk. * Wabkbb. * ToLLiT. * Mas. Warneb. ACT IV. SCENE I. — St7-eet in 6th grooves. Gas dotvn. Moonlight, L. 1 e., r.;ady to fall on TR.frord. Gas ready turned on to light in lamps up R. set. Snowballs at intervals. Music, mournful. Buster, slowly, as if tired, Mrs. Warner, l. u. e., to vl. front. Mrs. W. There's no one following me. I have given them all the slip. (r. front) I am at home at last. ( Utterly) At home. This is my home ! — To think that I should have seen hlin sitting on the bench beside the magistrate, well dressed and willi all tiie looks of what they call a gen- tleman — while I am what he gave me in charge as — a prisoner in the dock ! I never knew till then the depth of sorrow and shame, {feeh in her pockets) At least, he cannot think me the thief I have not got the key, and nmst ring up Mrs. Floyd, {pulls bell-pull. Bell rings r.) He musi not find me here. But that is not likely, for he does not know these places as I do. Some one is coming at last, (om doorstep, l. endof it) I am wearied and eager for even my poor bed. Mrs. Floyd opens b. 1 e. d., and stands in door-way. Mrs. F. Pretty hours these, ma'am ! {very angrily.) ^Mrs. W. I beg your pardon, I am very sorry to have disturbed yon. Mrs. F. {sharply). And very sorry you should be ! I can't have par- ties in my respectable house who lake other parlies' purses to other parties' rooms. Mrs. W. But it was a mistake, I was discharged. Mrs. F. Which I knows, as I was in the court myself, tilll was put out by the nasty obncxious perlice — I dare say they have got me down in their books now, me ! Mrs. Jemmia Floyd, of Number 7 Plumtree Court. Mrs. W. It is so late to-night that I can't find a room. I am very tired. Let me in, and I will go away to-morrow. Mrs. F. To-morrow won't do for me. Out you are and out j'ou keep. Them's my sentiments, and wiiat I says, I sucks to ! You can send for your box to-morrow. My first-floor back has given notice, and I expect the rest will toiler if I encourages such goin's on. That's all. Good night, you can steal off. {slnms door.) Mrs. AV. {alone). Ah ! {snow falls) That man would follow me and persecute me after all I have given up for his sake — to enable him to bold up bis head among the proud and wealthy. The last sacrilice is ACT IV. St} made now. I am still being punished for his crime. He has goue back to his hixmious lioiiie, while I am thrust without a shelter, in these rags, into tlie snow. My little Mary will never know how her mother died. They say that to them who are overtaken by the frost and the snow-falls, death comes like a sweet and peaceful sleep, (sits on door step) Come so to me, kind death, (lies down on door step) Come to me — for I am weary — weary of this life (sleeps. Moon on k. 1. e.) Enter, r. u. e., whistling, a lamplighter who lights lamps R. and exits, R. v: E., whistling until he is well of, Fause. Enter b. u. e., Tdnks, well wrapped ttp. T0NKS. Plumtree Court ? Here we are ! Five— six— seven. That's all right, (comes to r. 1. e.) I wonder if they're awake. Hullo, here's a young woniau drunk on the door step, or she would not take the stone for a bed such a night as this. I say, wake up ! (touchss Mrs. Warner) Get up, I want to get to the door. Mrs. W. (faintly). Let me sleep ! Tdnks. I want to go in. Wake up ! (shakes her) You will get your death of cold, (recognizes her on turning her face to the light) What ! Mary Warner ! What are you doing here ? (helps her to her feet, she re- mains weak and trembling.) Mrs. W. Waiting for death. Oh, let me die ! TuNKS. Not if James Tanks, prison warder, and as such, one of the authorities, knows it I Rouse up ! I am your old friend Tunks I Don't you remember me at Brixton 1 What's brought you here ? Mrs. W, The landlady will not let me in. Tdnks. By what right 1 Oh ! I see— you are behind hand with your rent 1, Mrs. W. No, it is not that. But I was arrested last night for robbery. Tpnks. Oh, robbery ! (aside) Poor thing ! once to the well, always lo it till they get broken ! Mrs. W. But I was innocent. Oh ! say that you, who hare known me so long, believe me innocent ! Tunks. I do believe you, my girl. Mrs. W. Thank Heaven there is somebody believes me, yet. Tdnks (half aside). Her landlady turns her out of doors she is cast into prison, she lies down broken-hearted to die — it is hard lines on her very hard lines. Look here ! (struts up to bell-pull and pulls tt hard, That shows that James Tanks means business, (to Mrs. Warner) 1 came here to see Mrs. Levitt, Milly Rigg that was, but I am glad that I dropped atop of you, that I am, Mary. Mrs F. (ope>is r. 1 e. d J. Now then! (verp sharply) do you think doorbells is barrel-h'organs ! Oh I (sees Mrs. Warner) its you at your games again? (to Tv^uks) So you've took her up again 1 Tdnks. I'll take you down, you horrid old flint I how dare you sbat out a lodger who has paid all her rent ! Mrs. F. (stammers). But she's been in the courts Tunks. How would you look in the courts if she had been found in the morning on your door-step, you d— d old catamaran I Mrs. F. Cata'maryann ! Tunks. I'll let you know what it is ! I am James Tunks, one of her Majesty's authorities. This is a good young woman, and I am fond and proud of hpr. Show me the way to Mrs. Levitt's rooms ! look sharp and no sriimbling, or it won't be pleasant to stand in your shoes ! (draws Mrs. Warner wtth htm through r. d., and Mrs. Floyd humbly thuta thi door.) 36 MARY WARNEH. Scene closes in. SCENE U.—Soom in 1st cut of 1st grooves. Gas down Ihree-qmrter turn. Enter, r , Tdnks, Mrs. Warner and Mrs. Floyd. Iunks to l. Mrs. Warner c, and Mrs. Floyd k. TuNKS. Come along, Mary my dear. Have you any such thing as a chair here 1 {gets chair l. e. and places it L. c. for Mrs. Warner) Sit down, my dear. (Mrs. W. takes seat.) Mrs. F, This is Mrs. Levitt's room. She is not home, but she won't be long, {goes to curtains, L. c.) Here is her baby — sleeping as quiet as a h'oyster, like a pretty darUng that it is. TaNKS. A nice article you are to talk of pretty little darlings and bab- bies — you that shut your doors on honest, hard working women. Mrs. F. But think of my character ! TuNKS. {micMng her tone). " Your character ! " A pretty character you would have got from the magistrate if she had been frozen to death on your step. Mrs F. But the name of the 'ouse. TiTNKS. A nice name your 'ouse would get with a coroner's inquest on the step. Mrs. W. I wish I had ! TcNKS {goes to her). No, Mary, j'ou don't wish anything half so wick- ed as that, {to Mrs. Floyd) Have you got such things as pen and ink about the place 1 Mrs. F. Rayther! there's a beautiful chany inkstand that I won at the shilling-go at the Christian Palace. TuNKS. Well, as Mrs. Levitt is not here, I will write her a note to explain her not finding you {meaning Mrs. Warner) when she comes back. [Exit Mrs. Floyd, r. Mrs. W. Am I going away ? T0NKS. I should rayther think so ! The right way. You shall go home with me to ray house in Brixton Avenue. One of my daughters has left home, and you can have her room, and her place at the table, my dear. Mrs. W. But I must do work ? TuNKS. I'll find you work so that you can live like a lady. Mrs. W. And I must pay my rent 1 TuNKS. Or I'll be down upon you sharp and heavy, never you fear about that ! So get your traps ready. Enter, r., Mrs. Floyd. Mrs. F. {holds out pen and inkstand). Here they are, sir. TuNKS. So that's your shilling's worth of the Christian Palace, is it ? {takes pen, Mrs. Floyd holding inkstand) When you were there, t sup- pose you were one of the Odd Fellows 1 {writes in his memorandum-hook) Do you call this a pen ? It's more like a skewer. Mrs. F. Everybody in the 'ouse has used it and the tailor next door, and this is the first complaint I have had about it in a month, TuNKS. Oh! Mrs. F. You must have spoilt the nib ? TuNKS. I'll spoil your nib ! This ink is as thick as treacle, and full of flies. Mrs. F. They gets in there, poor things, to be out of the way of the spiders ! &.CT IT. 87 TuNKS. Because you charge them too much rent! {gives note) Give this to Mrs. Levilt when slie comes in. And call a cab. Mrs. F. {staggered with surprise). Call a what? TuNKS. A cab ! I suppose you have seen .«uch an animal as a Han- som now and tlien ! And mind ! if you lo.se lliat note, you will have to answer lor ii to the authorities — {takes Mrs. Warner k.) — you black- heai ted. mulberry-faced old beast ! [Exit b., with Mrs. Warner. Mrs F. {staggers back to chair L. C, and falls into it, her arms out, pen in one hand, inkstand m the other ; fans herself with pen, pants for breath, itc.). Me a mulberry-faced beast ! Oh ! if only Mr. Floyd was living now, him that fell from a scaffolding irv tiie Westminster Bridge Road and was picked up for dead in Guy's Hospital, that man would never have walked out of the house alive. To abuse me in my own room 1 me that slaves and starves to keep the house respectable from mornin:i; till night witiieuta drop of consolation, {^mechanically lifts the inkbottCe to her lips, but discovers her error, rises and puts pen and ink and chair off h.) There goes the cab, as I live ! Well, I never ! That's the first cab I have seea in Plumtree Court as long as I have been here, except one to take Mrs. Fenn to the Fever Hospital, (c.) And how people can ride in them cabs when they don't know who has been in them last, is more than 1 can see. I don't object to omltbusses or even the underground railway, but DO cabs for my money, (bell, off r.) There's some one come in. Oh 1 they re comina up. The back kitchen must have let them in. Enter, b. , Millt and Levitt. » There's been a gentleman here inquiring for you, ma'am, (respeetftdlt/, r. c.) Lev. a gent inquiring about my wife. Hullo, what's the game, (c, MlIiliT L. C.T Mrs. F. Golden sovereigns is his game, (slm^s coin) He gave that to me. Lev. For me 1 (Mrs. FLOvn drops her hand to evade his snateh.) Mrs. F N'-s for me I There s the card he left for you, ma'am, when he couldn't see you. (^wa MiiiLY card and note.) Lev. See my wife ■ I'll see him first ! Mil. Why, this is abbut Mrs. Smith. Lev. Smith? (Milly makes a s gn to hiih) Oh' Mrs. F. She's gone away I Lev. and Mil. Gone away F Mrs. F. Gone away with a person in uniform who said he was one of the authorities. If he wasn't a policeman, leastwise he was next door to it — for he gave me the wust of bad language! He called me a cata- maran, and a mulberry- faced old beast! Pretty language from one of the authorities ! Lev. {to Millt). What does it say 1 Mil. (reads note). Oh ! it's Mr. Tunks, the warden at Brixton, who has taken her home to his house on Brixton Avenue. How well I re- member it — the pretty cottage, half-overgrown with flowers — nothing like this ! Mrs. F. (proudly). In course not ! How could you expect a cottage in the country to be like a 'ouse in town I Lev. What's the nob with the card 1 Mil Hush ! {motton.% that she wants Mrs. Flotd to be sent out.) Lev. (to Mrs. Flotd). Well, old girl, if you have finished your row. suppose you vacate our ap-Dar-ti-mougs, Mbs. F. Your wliat i 38 ItAKT WAENEE. Lev. (mth French shrug of shoulders). Our ap-par-ti-mongs ! Mrs. F. {hacking to r. before Levitt, followmg her up). Ah ! Mr. Levitt, you are always at it with your chaff"! Lev. Lor' bless you, that aiu't chaff— that's French ! Mrs. F. That's much the same thing- (Levitt will not let her pass either side of him so that she has to go out r.) Well 1 {with affected gayety) It's a merry heart that never grieves 1 What's the odds while you are happy ! \Exit, k d. Mil. Bob, it's George Warner ! Lev. George Warner ! {nghast) And this is his address on the card ? {rends card) " 8 Cromwell Piace." Mil. Where's that? Lev. It's one of those new mushroom built squares where there used to be open fields, and where they growed the spring rhubarb out by Brompton way. A swell place ! Mil. He that was your mate in the workshop six years ago • Lev. Him with four hundred pounds a year and I with four bob a week, and behind at that. Mil. Bob, we must bring them together ! You take care of baby while I go to George, and tell him of Mary. Lev. {abruptly). Step, Milly. I have something to tell you that has oeen hanging round my neck these five years, and dragging me down, and you and innocent kid, like the curse it is. Milly, do you remem- ber, when the cash-box of Dutlon & Downes was stolen ? Mil. Yes, yes. Lev. Mary Warner never did it, though she confessed to it.' Mil. I know it. George Warner took the box. Lev. Eh! who says so ? Mil. Mary told me so. Don't let it go further. Lev. But it was not George Mil. Not Geoi ge ! Lev. It was me, Milly. Mil. You I I will not believe it ! Lev. Yes, roe ! I was hid in the washing-place and heard George and his wife talk of their want of money. When the coast was clear, I crept out and went away wilh the cash-box. Mil. And you have let Mary rest under that burden of pain and doubt and loss of love all this time ? Oh, Bob ! Bob ! no wonder nothing prospered with us. There is only one course now. Bob, you must make a clean breast of it. You go to George and tell him 4ill, while I go to poor Mary. Lev. I will, Milly ! T will! Oh, if I had only known that I should feel so much better, I should have had the satisfaction of a clean breast five years ago, though I had got five years penal for it. Can you forgive me and give me a kiss, Milly ? {they embrace) Oh ! it's such a lelief, you can't think ! I feel like another man already ! Give me another ! {they embrace) Ah ! I never was so wild with joy ! But it's not D. T. this ■Jme ! [Exit, k., with Millt. Scenes changes to SCENE III. — Interior in 2d cut of \st grooves. Gas same. Enter, L., Seevant, bowing in Scriven, in full evening d/em. Seev. None of the company is here, sii ScBiv. (looks at watch). It is past seven. ACT IT. 89 Serv. But the party is put off. SoBiv. Oil ! ( Toice of Little Mary, r.). Papa ! papa ! Serv. This is Miss Warner. [Exit, k. Enter, r., Little Mart running Mart. Oh ! it is not papa,, ScRiv. {takes Mary's hands, c). No, It is not your papa. It is only a friend of papa and of' you, ray httle girl, who wishes you joy on your birthday. Mary. Yes, everybody has wished me joy, except papa, and he does nothing but cry. Papas shouldn't cry on their little girls' birthdays, Bliould they, now 7 ScRiv. Certainly not, grown-up people should only cry on their own birthdays. Mauy {looking L.)- Oh, here's papa ! Enter, h., Warner, who takes Mary's hand^ Wab. In full dress ! Then you have not been told that the party is put off? ScRiv. Yes, from your servant. Wliat is the cause ? Has a contract to build a railway to the Mountains of the Moon failed"? {laughingly.) War. No ! all is right in business matters, {to Mary). Mary, my darling, run and see what Miss Barker has for you. {exit Mary, h., aside) I must tell some one — it is kiHing me to keep it secret, (aloud) My friend, my kind friend, you have heard, like all my associates, that ray wife was dead. Like the rest, I thought so too. But I have seen her tliis morning. ScBiv. Seen her — this morning ? War. It was not she, I am sure, that I met the night of the robbery, and yet I saw her this morning in the dock at your courti ScRiv. What! that woman' War. Yes, listen. I was a workman in an engineering works, and had a good home, and, I thought, a blameless wife. One day she and I not together, were left in the office of my employers, and, soon after, the cash box left in an open desk, was missed. When they came to arrest me, on suspicion, she confessed that she alone had done it, know- ing my eagerness to go to America, and she was sentenced to five years in prison. For a time, my hurt pride made me cold towards her, and I would not write to her or see her. At last, strongly urged, I went one day to her prison. I saw her behind the grating that I had myself put Uf). Heaven knows that my heart was breaking, but she saw nothing of my emotion, and reproached me as if I was the author of the crime. Op. one bitter reproach rushed another, and we parted, she vowing never to see me again. When her release came, which was early, thanks to her good conduct, she eluded my anxious watch, and disap- peared until this time. Weary of fruitless search, I went abroad. All essays prospered with me, and I returned home rich in pocket, sad in heart. How can I meet my little girl, her child, with joy, and receive any guests to-night. ScRiv. My poor friend, I feel for you. But at least, the unhappy woman was not the principal in this last crime. War. Not even the accomplice I believe and trust. All her manner affected me ao that i h»v« doubts which never came so strongly to me before. 40 MABY WAENBK. ScRiv. Perhaps some explanation with her ? War. Will serve to a more quiet life for me ? I hope SO. I have ID qui lies on foot now that may bring about our interview. Enter, e., Servant. Servant. A man by appointment, sir— gives the name of Levitt. War. a man ] oli, he has come instead of his wife, (to Servant) Tell him I will be in the study at once. {Exit Servant r. Warner to Sckiven) It is an old friend of mine, who knows my wife's present whereabouts. It will be well, perhaps, to question hira before you. (ScRiVEN bows. They exeunt k.) Scene changes to SCENE III. — Interior in 6th grooves. Gas up. Stage clear. Music, Enter, sloivly, as if atve-slricken, c. D. from r. v. k., Millt and Mrs. Warner. Milly comes down l. c, Mrs. Waenee down c. Mes. W. (looking round). Oh ! what beautiful fuiniture! and all is so bright! No wonder that people who live in houses like these are differ- ent from those in our court. Mil. They aie sometimes just as unhappy {aside) Bob is telling him now. {aloud) There is kindness in hearts under these roofs, and I am suro you will do well if you have the good wishes of the owner here. Mrs. W. How did you find out this charitable lady 1 Mil. Oh ! many of such people have persons who do nothing but go about to find such as are worthy of their cares. Servant enters r. Servant. Master will see you now, ma'am. Mil. I thank you. [Exit Servant, b. Mrs. W. Master. Mil. Oil ! it's the lady's husband. Ladies must have husbands like other folks. I will be back soon, {goes r.) Don't despair, Mary ! the clouds are breaking now, and one sunbeam is always followed by a host. I foresee f^ood coming. [Exit, r. Mrs. W. (alone). Always hopeful and cheering, dear Milly ! Seeing the light when others are under the shadow. Yet I do feel hopeful, as if the air here was pure and sweeter than in our miserable dens. It is so bright here ! Where i.s my happy home, where the sun shone ever^ not a scrap left of the wreck, (goes up c. and to r. c. up) Ah ! (sees cup on etagere) that cup ! it is the very image of that one ! (sobs) the one I gave George 1 I will ask the lady of the house for it— and perhaps she will give it to me. Enter, i., Little Mary. Mary. I thought papa was here. You have not seea papa, have you? Mrs. W. No ! I am waiting to see your mamma, dear. Mary (surprised). My mamma ? Mrs. W. Yes, she promised me some work. Mary. You must be making some mistnke. I have no mamma ; ray mamma died so long ago that I hardly remember J ever ha4 one at all, ACT IV. 41 MkS. W. I beg pamon. I meant, the lady of the house. Mary. Wliy, that's me ! 1 am the lady of the house ! I make papa call me the lady of the house. It's so foolish of papa to say I tnust wait till I am old enough. Am I not old enough ! 1 am quite a woman grown ! Mrs. W. How old are you ? Mary. I am seven years old, and this is my birthday. 1 am going to have my old nurse here to see me ! won't that be nice ? Mrs. W. {absently). Very nice indeed ! seven years old. I wish you joy. [^tearfully) Oh ! dear me ' {takes chair b. c. b. of table front.) Maey. Oh ! what's the matter ! {goes to her Mrs. W. Never mind me. Mart. What's made you cry 1 Mbb. W. I shall be better soon. My darling, my darling ! {sobbing.) Maby. ^jit you really mustn't on my birth-day. What are you crying for ? Mrs. W. I beg your pardon, miss. But I have got a little girl at home, whose birthday is to-day, and she is also seven. Mary. Oil ! {claps her hands) You must bring her here, and .she shall see my doll and toys, and we'll be so happy ! Mrs. W. Don't, my darling ! {tearfully throtighout.) Mart. I don't Jike it a bit ! I hate to hear you weep ! {tries to soothe Mrs. Warner) Don't, don't, don't, poor lady ! {pettishly) I won't love you at all if you cry. You are as bad as papa; who has done nothing but cry to-day. Mrs. W. With joy, my darling, no doubt. It must be something most happy to be such a father. May I know his name ? Mart. Don't you know that papa is Mr. Warner. Why, everybody knows that. My name is Mary Warner. Mrs. W. Warner! Is that your name? {very passionately) Then you, yoU; you are ray child ! {embraces Mabt) my child, my darling, my long lost, my angel ! {kisses her) my own ! (looks at her) Yes, George's eyes ! {kisses her) and my hair ! {weeps over her ) Mart {struggling). You hurt me — you must be mad ! Mrs. W. {calmer). 1 am mad. {sobbipg) Don't mind me. {presses hand to her forehead) I thought you were my little girl, my child ! Don't call ! don't tell your papa that I spoke to you. He might be angry. D n't tell your papa! for I am going away— far away, and you will never see me again. Try to tliiiik it was your own mamma, come back to see you and love you for a niomeni ! Won't you give me a kiss ! {kixses Mart) You won't mind if I cut one little piece of hair, {takes scissors from table.) Enter Waeneb, e. d. One Tittle piece — only one piece — no one will find it out War. Mary ! Mrs. W. George Warner ! {starts to her feet ; fierce tone) Don't touch me ! {to c, Warner b. c.) I have not told her ! I am going away I I did not know War. But I know all ! That cowardly scoundrel Bob Levitt has con- fessed all. Mrs. W. All— what War. That he stole the cash-box from Dutton & Downes. Mrs. W. Then, it was not you! And I could think you guilty? Oh ! {falls into Warner's arms.) War And I have been guilty ! guilty of doubting the bravest, sweet. 42 MAKT WABNEB. est wife man ever had 1 Only for that cur, we might have not had five years lull of regrets. Mrs, W. Can you forgive me 1 Wak. Forgive you ! why, i liave nothing to forgive. But let the past burn up its ashes ! A bright future is now before us, and we will never look back to the black border of such a broad ocean of happiness. Come here, darling ! {takes Mary s hand) This is the precious birthday present 1 promised you — your mother ! The mother of whom you have heard me so often speak. Mary. 1 know her already. She loves me very much. Mrs. W. She will love you still more as each day dawns on us. George, my husband! (they embrace.) Maey. And you will never cry any more. War. Never ! Mrs. W. Yes, we will often ! but they will be tears of joy ! of sweetest bappineiis, that wells up from the heart without a care 1 Ticture. They embracing and Mart tvith a hand held by each of them, CURTAm. PROPERTIES— {See Scenery.) ACT 1.— Scent l4<.— Maps, plans, cut out patterns of parts of machines ; models of engines, marine, locomotive, pumpings, etc. ; pair of compasses, to open, for "Warner ; a metal faucit for Levitt to enter -witli ; rules, spirit level and other engineering tools, on table up l. ; bankbUls — coin in cash-box with bankbilla : umbrellas in hat-rack, or under row of hat pegs up b. 3 e. comer; blank books on desk ; paper on table up l. ; stools and of&ce arm-chairs ; tool-basket for Levitt. Scent 3d.— Cradle, head to the audience, empty ; chairs, table ; apron for Mrs. "Warner, l. d., -without ; writing materials on sideboard up c ; table- cloth, plates, etc., for three ; pie in dish in oven; kettle holder, chisel on side- board up c. ; drawings on flats. ACT II.— Two chairs, table, sewing for Milly. Scent 2d.— Bunch of keys for Mrs. Frenwick ; a framed card with head-line. Eegulations stuck on b. 2 e. flat. ACT HI.— Scent \st. — Chairs, stools, wash- basin, bed, table ; candle in bottle ; wedding ring for Mrs. "Warner ; purse and coin for Milly 's second entrance ; basket, clubs for two policemen. Scene Id.— Eod for usher. Scene 3d.— Bible, writing materials on desk of magistrate and clerk. Clock on flat. ACT I'V.—iS'cene Isi.-Snow and snow-cloth; spirits and sponge on end of rod for lamplighter ; limelight, l. 1 e. Scene 2d.— Bed cur- tains L. on F., chair l., proscenium e. ; pen and ink, note-book and card for Tunks, gold coin for Mrs. Floyd. Scent Ath.—G\\t cup of Act I, Scene 2d, on shelves, &. 3. e.; albums on table, limelight to show light on fountain, c, V. k. STAGE DIRECTIONS. R. means Right of Stage, facing the Audience ; L. Left ; C. Centre ; R. C. Eight of Centre ; L. C. Left of Centre. D. F. Door in the Fla,t, or Scene running across the back of the Stage ; C. D. F. Centre Door in the Flat ; R. D. F. Right Door in the Flat ; L. C. F. Left Door in the Flat ; R. D. Right Door ; L. D. Left Door ; 1 E. First Entrance ; 2 E. Second Entrance : U. E. Upper Entrance ; 1, 2 or 3 G. First, Second or Third Groove. R. R. C. C. L. C. L. By The reader is supposed to be upon the stage facing the ftudience. GREEN ROOM EDITION OF NEW COPYRIGHTED PLAYS ALABAMA A DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS. • BY AUGUSTUS THOMAS, Member of the American Dramatists' Club. Author of " The Burglar i'' '■''In Missouri," " Tht Hoosier Doctor ^^ " A Man of the World," " The Capitol,^'' "^ Proper Impropriety^^ " That Overcoat" " The Man Up Stairs" " Afterthoughts;' Etc. THE BEST AMERICAN PLA Y. Eight male, four female characters. Full directions and business for stage as originally produced by the Author at the Madison Square Theatre. Time of Plaiting: Two and one-half hours. COSTUMES: Modern. " Its character, its atmosphere, its sentiment, its humor, are all pecu- liarly American . . , The best English play of these times could not so surely touch the hearts of American theatregoers. It will be as popular in the South as in the North, and the Western people will like it too." — New York Times, "There is not one in the twelve characters of the play that is not distinctly worth studying." — New York World. " It is a good play, to begin with. Next, it is a play by an American ; and last, it is a play about Americans." —New York Herald. Price, 50 Cents. Sent postpaid to any address on receipt of p^ice- Complete descriptive catalogue of De Witfs Acting PI*xys and De Witfs Ethiopian and Comic Dramas sent free on application. JUST PUBLISHED GREEN ROOM EDITION OF NEW COPYRIGHTED PLAYS TRELAWNY OF THE WELLS BY ARTHUR W. PINERO Author of ''The Benefit of the Doubt,'' ''The Profligate,'' Etc.y Etc. The Great Success of the Past Theatrical Season in New York A comedy in four acts for ten male and eight female characters. For many years Mr. Pinero has been ac- knowledged the first English-speaking dramatic author, and he is one of the very few dramatists whose plays are as valuable for their literary qualities as their dramatic worth. Costumes of the early sixties Acting Time : Two and one-half hours Price, 50 Cents Sent postpaid to any address on receipt of price Complete Descriptive Catalogue of De Witt's Acting Plays and De Witt's Ethiopian and Comic Dramas sent free on application. GREEN ROOM EDITION OF NEW COPYRIGHTED PLAYS THE BENEFIT OF THE DOUBT. BY ARTHUR W. PINERO, Author of " The Princess and the Butterfly ^ " The Second Mrs. Tanqueray^'' " Trelatvney of the Wells,^'' Etc., Etc. One of the brightest plays ever written, by one of the greatest of living playwrights. A Society Comedy in three acts for six female and nine male characters, as produced at the Comedy Theatre, London. The scenes consist of two interiors easily arranged. An excellent play for either amateur or professional per- formance. Costumes of the present day. Acting Time: Two and one-half hours. Price, 50 Cents. Sefit postpaid to any address on receipt of price. Complete descriptive catalogue of De Witfs Acting Plays and De Witfs Ethiop^ian and Comic Dramas sent fref on application. CHICAGO: THE DRAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY. GREEN ROOM EDITION OF NEW COPYRIGHTED PLAYS The club FRIEND -OR- A FASHIONABLE PHYSICIAN BY Sydney Rosenfeld Author of *^ A Possible Case^^ ^^Imagination" "^ House of Cards ^ The Passing Show" Co-author of " The Senator" Adapter of " The Two Escutcheons" Etc. A bright, vivacious society comedy in three acts, for six male and five female characters. Costumes of the present day. Acting Time: Two hours. Price, 50 Cents. Sent postpaid to any address on receipt of price. Complete descriptive catalogue of De Wiifs Acting Plays and De IVitt's Ethiopian and Comic Dramas sent free on application. " Mr. Rosenfeld has handled his subject with rare skill, and made a play which in many respects is far removed from the conventional modern comedy. Mr. Rosenfeld is noted for his skill in writing bright and witty dialogue, and he has rarely equalled his text in this piece. It is a delight- ful comedy, clean and bright, and should find favor with intelligent audi- ences everywhere." — The Boston Herald. " The dialogue is deliciously witty. . . An abundance of merry sit- uations and clever contrasts of mirth and pathos hold the attention of the audience." — The Boston Daily Globe. CHICAGO: THE DKAMATIC PUBLISHING COMPANY. NEIF COMEDIES The Rich Miss Poor A PLAT IN ONE ACT By CHARLES TOWNSEND Author of fifty successful plays A charming comedietta of modern life and especially adaptable to the amateur stage. Characters : Three male, two female. Scene: Lawyer's Office. Acting Time : Twenty minutes. Price, 15 Cents Balm of Gilead AN ORIGINAL COMEDY IN ONE ACT By EDWARD BOLTWOOD A delightful play full of new and clever situations and brilliant dialogue. Chapacters : Two male, two female. Scene : Modern drawing room. Acting Time : Forty minutes. Price, 25 Cents TIFO NEW PLAYS Dramatized from Stories by Richard Harding Davis The Littlest Girl A ONE- ACT PLAY By ROBERT MILLIARD Taken from the story "Her First Appearance" Played by Mr. HlUiard for three seasons in the leading theatres of America. Characters : Three male, one female. Scene : A bachelor apartment. Acting Time : Twenty minutes. Price, 25 Cents The Orator of Zapata City A ONE- A Cr PLA Y By RICHARD HANDING DAVIS Taken from his story of the same title. This play was written for Mr. E. H. Sothern, and by whose per- mission it is now published. It is a strong drama of Western life and offers exceptional opportunities for straight and character acting. Characters : Eight male, one female. Scene : A western court-room. Acting Time : Thirty minutes. Price, 25 Cents lAMONDS AND HEARTS a Comedy Drama in Three Acts. By EPPIB W. MERRIMAN. Price, 25 Cents. is new play has bovnaded at once into a wide popularity. )od plot, the strong "heart" interest, and the abundant r all combine to mike a most excellent drama. "Bub" is a fine character of the Josh Whitcomb type, and his 3 a worthy companion "bit." Sammy is an excruciatingly little darky. The other characters are good. Fine oppor- for introducing specialties. The play has so many good that it never fails to be a success. CAST OF CHARACTERS. ncE Halstead, a young lady of eighteen,with an affection of irt, a love for fun and hatred of arithmetic Halstead, her sister, two years younger, fond of frolic Gray, a young lady visitor willing to share in the fun Halstead, a widow, and stepmother to the Halstead girls.