^^^' 
 
Exhibition I Par LOR 
 DRAMAS, 
 
 CONTAINING THE FOLLOWING PLAYS: 
 
 Odds with the Enemy; Initiating a Granger 
 Seth Greenback; Wanted, a Correspond- 
 ent; A Family Strike; The Sparkling 
 Cup; The i\ssEssoR; Two Ghosts 
 IN White; Country Justice; 
 Borrowing Trouble. 
 
 T. S. DENISON, 
 
 ^'^^0^ 
 
 
 CHICAGO: 
 
 T- S. IDEnsriSOIST 
 1879. 
 
 Tr 
 
P5 IS3^ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress in tlie year 1879, by 
 
 7'. 6". BENISON, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C 
 
 Steam Press ot 
 Cushiiig-, Thomas & Co., 170 Clark St. 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY, 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 Mrs. Linton, a widow in good circumstances, 
 Oscar Linton, her son, - . - - 
 Alice Linton, her daughter, . - - 
 
 Harry List, - 
 
 Lanty Nixon, grocer's clerk. 
 
 Squire Simon Carter, a man of wealth, 
 
 Nathan Carter i ^^^ nephew, adopted son ) 
 JNathan uarter, ^ ^^ j^^g Linton, i^ 
 
 Betsky Bluff, Mrs. L's servant, - 
 J. McClure Hopkinson, dry goods clerk, - 
 Tabbs, colored servant of the Lintons, 
 Phcebe Day, Squire's servant, 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 Any ordinary clothing suited to the station of the wearer. 
 Soldiers in uniform. A soldier's coat will answer if complete 
 uniform cannot be had. 
 
 EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 R, means right for the actor as he faces the audience; L, left; 
 C, center. 
 
 Three years intervene between acts III and IV; about one 
 month between IV and V. 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene Mrs. Linton's Parlor. Room elegantly furnished, giv- 
 ing evidences of -wealth and refinement. Pictures on the -walls. 
 Evening. 
 
 Nathan. I can hardly believe it! What presumption in her 
 to treat in this way, one brought up under the same roof, her 
 equal in every respect, and a little better than she is just at pre- 
 sent. But her aristocratic notions which she airs so conspicuous- 
 ly, will soon be humbled, or I'm no judge. Well there is no use 
 fretting and fuming, Nathe Carter. Bide your time and it will 
 all come out right. Humph! I can't help laughing at that girl's 
 high-minded notions. Does'ent she know that her prospects are 
 materially changed since her father s death. She forgets that her 
 father was a spendthrift. A large part of the property which she 
 proudly imagines to be hers, will soon be the proptri*ty of Simon 
 Carter. Then may be his nephew will not be such a bad catch 
 after all. She is not aware of that yet. Haw could she know it.? 
 I forgot that only two persons know all about that trifling circum- 
 stance yet. But she soon will know it, and may be that will 
 cause her to change her opinion on certain subjects. Confound it! 
 I would like to choke that young List when he comes hanging 
 around Alice with his spoony talk. Hist! I hear them coming 
 now. I can't face them after my discomfiture. I'd like to know- 
 how, they do get along together. I'll employ a little stratagem 
 to find out. {Creeps behind lounge, R.) 
 
 Enter Harry and Alice L. 
 
 Alice. Take a seat Harry. Take this arm-chain 
 
 Harry. This will do as well. That is yours. 
 
 Alice. You need not refuse it Harry. You must take it. You 
 know you are partial to that chair. 
 
 Harry. Yes, I am partial to that chair because it is yours. 
 {Takes arm-chair R. of table, Alice L.) 
 
 Nathan. {Aside.) I wonder if he will like her as well when 
 she does'ent own any fine chairs ? 
 
4 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 Alice. Harry, none of your nonsense. How careless I am! 
 I have not taken mother the evening paper yet. Excuse me 
 Harry till I take it to her. She will be anxious to hear the news. 
 
 Harry. Certainly. {Exit Alice R.) There it is! Always 
 the same. Whenever I hint my love for her, she changes the 
 subject so adroitly I have not courage to renew it. Yet I have the 
 best of reasons for believing Ihat she cares more for me than her 
 careless manner would indicate. But with what charming indif- 
 erence she meets every reference to the one subject nearest my 
 heart. To be refused by her would be a sort of pleasure, could 
 one but ask again. 
 
 Nathan. {A^Ae) Precious little pleasure I found in it. 
 
 Harry. Ask again ! How bold I am of a sudden, when I 
 have not courage to ask the first time. I dare not contemplate 
 the possibility of a refusal. Perhaps after all she cares nothing 
 for me, as her thoughtless raillery would seem to indicate. Alas! 
 that is what I fear. Would that \ could read her thoughts toward 
 me. Humph! may be she does'ent think of me at all. Verily 
 the hardest ihing in this world is to read the intent in the word 
 or act. 
 
 Enter Alice R. 
 
 Alice. I've kept you waiting longer than I intended, Harry. 
 But then you like that chair and this room so well, that I pre- 
 sume you have not missed me much. 
 
 Harry. Indeed I have. You do not know how much I al- 
 ways miss you, Alice, and how lonely I feel when 
 
 Alice. When you are alone. Ha, ha, what an idea that you 
 should feel lonely when alone. 
 
 Harry. Alice, if you would only listen to me 
 
 Alice. Now Mr. Philosopher, it you intend delivering a lecture, 
 please remember that the occasion is somewhat inappropriate, and 
 the audience not sufficient to develop any 1^ • ot powers of 
 speech making which you may possess. {A 7 -^) What ails 
 you to night anyhow, Harry.? You are not u 'y so particular 
 about the subject of conversation. Harry, yo - actually cross. 
 
 Harry. Sometimes one does not wish t« > k on every sub- 
 ject. 
 
 Alice. Quite true, Harry. Let's <alk abou the .var; we must all 
 be interested in that wh-ther we will or net Did you know 
 nearly all the boys in the village have enlisted under Capt 
 Wilson.? 
 
 Harry. Yes ; and I wish I could go too. 
 
 Alice. Oh don't think of it Harry. I can't bear the idea of your 
 going to the war. 
 
 Harry. Why .? 
 
 Alice. Oh there would be no one to bring us the latest news 
 and we should be so lonesome, mother and I. There would be 
 no one to help us while away our leisure hours which grow more 
 tedious every day. I was just wishing before you came that you 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. £ 
 
 would drop in and spend the evening. 
 
 Harry Here I am and you have your wish. 
 
 Alice. You have not been here for a whole week. Is that the 
 way for one old playmate to treat another? Harry, I shall have 
 to ask you to explain. 
 
 Harry, You just said you wished to Calk about the 
 war, 
 
 Alice. Not when you talk of enlisting. It's horrid. What ever 
 made you think of going.? 
 
 Harry. I have several reasons. 
 
 Alice. What are they pray.? 
 
 Harry. In the first place I think it is my duty to defend my 
 country, and then f.ither does not. wish me to see you. For his 
 sake it were better my visits here should cease. 
 
 Alice. Harry you are always welcome here; mother likes to 
 see you often. Then you know we have the claims of old ac- 
 quaintance upon you. {Knocking) Who can that be.? {Goes 
 to door R.) Betsey, come in. 
 
 Harry. {Aside.) I wonder if old acquaintanceship is my only 
 claim here. 
 
 Betsey. Good evening Mr. List. 
 
 Harry. Good evening Betsey. 
 
 Alice. Take a seat Betsey. 
 
 Betsey. No thank you. I shall not intrude. 
 
 Harry. No intrusion at all. 
 
 Alice. Nonsense Betsey! I should think you would know 
 better than to talk about intrusion, sit down. Harry likes to make 
 himself at home. You know well enough he comes to see the 
 whole household. Is'ent that so Harry.? 
 
 Harry. Yes. 
 
 Tabbs. {Enters \.. aside) Am dat a factotum? All de house 
 holds. Dat eludes me for a fac. 
 
 Harry. Sit down Betsey and we will have a social chat. {All 
 take seats^ Bktsey L.) 
 
 Tabbs. {Aside.) Spect dat does'ent elude dis individual. {Aloud.) 
 Miss Alice, 
 
 Alice. Why when did you come in, Tabbs? 
 
 Tabbs. Jes about three-quarters of a moment ago to the bes of 
 my reelection. Massa Nixon's waitin at de dooh. {Betsey Jum^s 
 
 Alice. Lanty Nixon? Show him in at once. Don't run away 
 Betsey. -^ 
 
 Betsey. I shan't run away, but I'd like to know what he wants 
 here this time of night. 
 
 Nathan. {Aside.) Hang it who else is coming! I'm con- 
 foundedly cramped. 
 
 Alice. Oh he has come to deliver groceries perhaps. 
 
 Betsey. Groceries indeed ! He has been here twice already to- 
 day with groceries. 
 
 Nathan, (^sic/e.) Plague take it ! He'll stay all night 
 
6 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 Lanty enters L. ushered in by Tabbs. 
 
 Lanty. Good evening to jou all. 
 
 Alice. \ 
 
 Betsey, v Good evening, Lantj. 
 
 Harry. ) 
 
 Alice. Take a seat Lanty. We are so 'glad you have come. 
 Is there any news? 
 
 Lanty. Yes a telegram — 
 
 Tabbs. Miss Alice may I listen to the news? 
 
 Alice. Yes, stay and hear it, Tabbs. {All seated hut Tabbs.) 
 
 Lanty. A telegram has just come stating that there has been 
 another great battle and that the union army is routed with fear- 
 ful slaughter. 
 
 Alice. What dreadful news! and yet in our impatience we long 
 to hear of battles and are disappointed if they do not occur almost 
 daily. Who would liave thought a few short years ago, that 
 brothers would so soon deluge our country in blood. And then 
 the bitter end, for when that time comes, the victor will only 
 have bruised his weaker brother. 
 
 Betsey. Yes, but an errmg brother. God's justice is sure and 
 the verdict of Heaven will be on the side of the right and against 
 wrong and slavery. 
 
 Harry. Nobly spoken Betsey. — 
 
 ♦'Truth crushed to earth will rise again ; 
 
 The eternal years of God are hers ; 
 But error wounded writhes in pain, 
 And dies among- her worshippers." 
 
 Tabbs. Yes, massa Hnrry ; Miss Betsey inlightened onto our 
 minds in a very plain foridway; and poetry am a mighty good 
 thing to pour goose iie onto de troubled waters of true love with. 
 It's mighty nice to talk about de waidick of Heaven too. But I'd 
 jes like to know when dat wardick is to be jiiven in. Sposen de 
 jury cant agree and de court journs over two or three times, 
 what will become of all dese tighten combatifants den? Gineral 
 Jackson ! Dey'ell all be done killed off before dey eber hear of de 
 wardick. 
 
 Alice, Have faith Tabbs. The Lord will fight the battles of the 
 just. 
 
 Harry. Faith has its sphere, but even the Lord can not fight 
 battles without instruments to carry out his purposes. I feel to 
 night that every one who is able to bear arms should take part 
 and that I should be in the field fighting for my country. 
 
 Alice. You Harry! Why how you talk! You know we can 
 not spare you, and there are older hands enough. You are but 
 a boy. 
 
 Harry. Yes, I am a boy, but even boys can help defend their 
 country. 
 
 Tabbs. Massa Harry am right. His, kind of faith, would r©» 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 7 
 
 move the mountains of Sodom and cast them into the sea of 
 
 Betsey. Mountains of Sodom ! Sea of Sahara! Tabbs, Sodom 
 was a city of the plain, and Sahara is a great desert. 
 
 Tabbs. Sodom a city of de plain ! If dat am a case, why did 
 de Scripter ask Jacob to flee into de mountains, if dere were no 
 mountains to flee into? To save argufyin, I'se jes willin to admit 
 dat Saharry am a desert. I meant de sea of Mediterraneum, and 
 for that matter I reckon it's about as easy to throw a mountam 
 into one sea as another. 
 
 Lanty. Stick to it Tabbs. You have the best of that argu- 
 ment. , , , J. . J- -J 
 
 Tabbs. Thankee, Massa Nixon. You don't catch dis mdivid- 
 ual nappin whar de Scripter am consarned. 
 
 Lanty, Tabbs, are you versed in profane history.? 
 
 Tabbs. Do you spose dis darkey waited on Massa two years 
 for nothing, while he was sittin on de flooh of de legislater.? 
 Massa Nixon, I'm proud to say dat my limited knowledge of pro- 
 fane history, am mostly 'quired by observation durm my pub- 
 lic career. ^ , , .. , a^ a 
 
 Alice. How very wise you must be Tabbs, if you have prohted 
 by all the experience of your eventful life, public and private. 
 
 Tabbs. Reckon Massa'Linton would have been wealthier and 
 wiser if he had Hstened to the advice of a sartin cullud person. 
 
 Alice. What do you mean Tabbs.? 
 
 Tabbs. Well, if Massa had'ent had no dealins with Simon Car- 
 ter, it would have been better for him. Jes like dese genrous, 
 whole-souled chaps. Dey's so awful maganimous deirselves, 
 dat dey never think anybody else is mean till it is too late. 
 Mebbe it aint too late yet to give a little advice though. 
 
 Alice. Have you anything of importance to disclose, Tabbs, 
 that you are exciting our curiosity to such an extent! Unravel 
 the mystery. 
 
 Tabbs. Squire Carter might'ent want dis individual to unrav- 
 el his yarn. But I reckon if Massa Linton had always put away 
 his papers into a safe place, Missa Linton would have had some 
 dockiments dat would help dis ravlin business pretty smart. 
 
 Alice. Do you refer to father's private papers which were 
 lost? 
 
 Tabbs. Yes Miss Alice. And I also infer to some papers 
 which de late deceased Mr. Linton did'ent write. 
 
 Harry. Tabbs, drop your big words and tell us plainly what 
 you do mean. 
 
 Tabbs. Massa Harry, I'se been droppin big words round like 
 ripe chestnuts arter a frost. Aint dat a fac .? To be plain about it, I 
 mean dat Massa Linton never owed Squire Carter in his life, and 
 dat Massa never gave him those big notes. 
 
 Lanty. I've guessed as much for some time. 
 
 Alice. Tabbs, are you aware of the serious nature of the 
 charges you make against my guardian» Simon Carter? 
 
« ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 Tabbs. Did'ent spect to charge any thing. Shant charge a 
 cent, Miss Alice, for dese facs. It am all true though. Did'ent 
 I hear Massa tell Massa Williams, that week before he died, that 
 he did'ent owe nobody nothing ceptin a few little debts. 
 
 Altce. Pooh! Tabbs, you must not let an accidental remark 
 lead you to such serious conclusions. Perhaps father did not 
 know at that time the exact condition of tliose investments he 
 and Mr. Carter made together. 
 
 Tabbs. Jes so Miss Alice, In de opinion of dis darkey, no one 
 •will ever know de zact condition of dem vestments ceptin Simon 
 Carter, and mebbe his next of kin Nathe. 
 
 Lardy. Tabbs, do you know anything to justify your suspi- 
 cions.'* 
 
 Tabbs. Yes, Massa, I knows considerable more than this indi- 
 vidual's gwine to tell, until de indigencies of de cnse requiahs de 
 facs. 
 
 Harry. Nonsense, Tabbs. You need not put on such an air 
 of wisdom with your eloquence, nor speak in such a mysterious 
 way. You have nothing but your own suspicions, and those on- 
 ly because you do not like the Carters. 
 
 Tabbs. Nothing but spicions eh.'* I see de maligencies of de 
 case requiahs a plain enclosure of de facs. 
 
 Betsey. You mean the exigencies of the case require a dis- 
 closure of the facts. • 
 
 Tabbs. I said exidigencies. But we will not argy dat point. 
 Here am de facs. Did'ent I hear Massa Nathe and his Uncle 
 Simon talking busy about Massa Linton's business.? 
 
 Nathan. (Aside.) The black rascal ! 
 
 Tabbs. An when I see dey was so desput in arnest, I stop- 
 ped on the stairs to listen, if it was sort of mean, an I heerd two 
 mighty mean men layin plans. 
 
 Nathan. {Aside.) Your black pate will suffer for this. 
 
 Alice. Well go on Tabbs. We are tired waiting. 
 
 Tabbs. Massa Nathe says to squire, says he, "You know Uncle 
 them papers are taken care of, now how's we gwine to fix up 
 matters.'"' An Squire Carter says, "We'll jes put in plenty of claims 
 an try to get a morgidge on de farm for the present. Afterwards 
 we can tighten de screws jes as we please if dat gal don't come to 
 a favorable elusion." 
 
 Lanty. The villians! 
 
 Harry, Can this be true.'* 
 
 Tabbs. True as preachin. 
 
 Betsey. Neither of them is too good for such villiany in my 
 opinion. 
 
 Alice. Friends judge not too harshly. I cannot hear my 
 adopted brother and my guardian thus spoken of. Let us drop 
 the subject. Where can Nathan be to night? It is time he was 
 home, if he went to the village. 
 
 Harry. Lanty, that reminds me it is time we were at home too. 
 
 Alice. No, I did'ent mean that. Don't be in a hurry. 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 9 
 
 Harry. Really we must go. It is getting late. Good night. 
 Lanty. Good night. [Exeunt L.) 
 
 Be/sev { i.^^^^9 ^^ door.) Good night. Call again. 
 Tabbs. Good night. {Exit R.) 
 
 Betsey. I must see to the kitchen for the night. {Exit R.) 
 Alice. And I'll go up stairs to mother. {Exit R.) 
 Nathan. Yes, and I'll go too. A precious fool I've been, ly- 
 ing there an hour or so in that dark hole. Aha ! They know 
 our plans, do they.? All through that black rascal Tabbs. But 
 his influence does'ent amount to a straw. Alice, herself don't be- 
 lieve him. No, she trusts me still. So much the better. Tabbs 
 is easily disposed of, and then we shall see who wins, Harry List 
 or I. {Exit R.) Ctirtain, 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene, Mrs. Linton's Parlor. Time next day^ after Act I. 
 Table C. Mrs. Linton seated R. of table. 
 
 Mrs. L. Oh, this continual trouble! Since my husband's 
 death, there has been nothing but worry over his affairs. Claim 
 follows claim, until I fear nothing will be left. {Knocking heard.) 
 Who is that.? {Goes to the door, L,.) 
 
 Enter Tabbs, showing in Simon Carter. 
 
 Squire. How are you, Mrs. Linton. I hope you are well, 
 
 Mrs. L, Good day, Mr. Carter. I'm quite well thank you. 
 Take a seat. 
 
 Squire. {Takes chair, 1^.) Fine day for the soldiers to say 
 good bye. There is a terrible bluster down among the cabins on 
 the creek. Women and children are crying. The men are half- 
 crying too. Should'ent think they would care a great deal, as 
 they don't leave much behind. 
 
 Mrs. L. They leave their wives and children behind, and 
 nothing should be dearer to men than these. Those who have 
 experienced such partings, best know how bitter they are. 
 
 Squire. Very true. It is natural to feel such things. We are 
 all human when it comes to that. 
 
 Tabbs. {Aside.) De Squiah am speakin from observation. 
 Dat las remark don't come under de spear of his personal sper- 
 ience. 
 
 Mrs. L. This cruel war will bring sorrow to many hearts that 
 have never known a care. How can men deliberately and inten- 
 tionally wrong their fellow men.? Is there no better way than 
 bloodshed to settle differences of opinion .? 
 
 Squire. Differences of opinion may be honest, yet irreconcila- 
 ble. So the sword must decide. But" I've come down to-day on a 
 little matter of business. I want to see what can be done toward 
 settling up my accounts with your husband's estate. You know 
 
10 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY, 
 
 I have made out my claims entirely from my books, inck:ding 
 those old notes. 
 
 Tabbs. (Aside.) Plaguey old notes. Made about las week. 
 
 Mrs. L. Yes, I know you were preparing a statement, and I'll 
 be obliged to trust to the accuracy of your accounts, since my 
 husband's private papers have so unaccountably disappeared. 
 
 Squire. Very mysteriously indeed. Have you no clue to their 
 whereabouts. 
 
 Mrs. L, None. I have given tip the search as hopeless. 
 
 Squire, And I too. I think there is little probability of your 
 ever seeing them again. 
 
 Tabbs. (Aside.) Dat am mos entirely likely (Aloud,) Dey're 
 gone sure. 
 
 Mrs. L. Tabbs, you may go. 
 
 Squire. Why, are you here Tabbs.? Go at once. We have 
 private business that must not be heard by everyone. 
 
 Tabbs. (Aside, going.) Not de fust business he did'ent want 
 every one to hear. (Exit R.) 
 
 Squire. Well, as I was saying, I have those matters in good 
 shape at last, and am now ready to settle at once. 
 
 Mrs. L. If there is a balance in your favor, I fear that I should 
 not be ready to settle immediately. 
 
 Squire. There is quite a balance in my favor. 
 
 Airs. L. Heaven protect us! We shall be homeless yet. 
 
 Squire, I am very sorry Madam, to be obliged to break this 
 unpleasant news to you. But I am not able to lose the money, 
 and, though administrator of the estate, I must present my 
 claims with the other creditors. 
 
 Mrs. L. You do but your duty in claiming your own. I will 
 pay you every cent, if my child and myself are left penniless. 
 
 Squire, It will not be so bad as that. 
 
 Mrs. L, What does the estate owe j'ou? 
 
 Squire. A small amount comparatively; only some seven 
 thousand dollars. 
 
 Mrs. L. A very large amount considering our other debts. 
 Then my husband was deeply involved.? 
 
 Squire. He was. He lost heavily in oil speculations. The 
 bulk of my claim is for money loaned at that time. Without 
 my help he would probably have been bankrupt then. 
 
 Mrs. L. What settlement can we make without sacrificing 
 everything.? 
 
 Squire. Oh, take your time. Give me a mortgage on the real 
 estate, and pay it off at your leisure. 
 
 Mrs.L. Mortgage the homestead! T'is the last resort, but 
 better than to sell it to strangers. I will give you the mortgage, 
 and trust to Providence for the means of paying it off. 
 
 Squire, All right. I'll not be hard at all. Now since we have 
 settled up that business satisfactorilj', there's another little affair- 
 I'd like to mention. 
 
 Mrs,L, What is that? 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 11 
 
 Squire: You know my nephew, Nathan, is very fond of Alice. 
 
 Mrs. L. It would be very strange if he were not, for their 
 relations have always been those of brother and sister. 
 • Squire. Pshaw! There is no brotherly love about it. It is 
 all the real thing. Why should'ent he marry the girl.? He will 
 some day have'all my property, and will be well to do in the 
 world. As for his bringing up, you know what that is. I think 
 thev would make a splendid match. 
 
 Mrs. L. To be properly mated, young people must love each 
 other, and I doubt if Alice entertains any other feeling for Nathan 
 than that of a sister's love. 
 
 Squire. There is great deal of moonshine about the loves of 
 young people. When I wanted to marry Matilda Williams, I 
 just went and asked her father about it, and he said yes. The 
 girl said something about not loving me as well as she should 
 love a husband. I told her love would come in time, and her 
 father said the same. We were married, and we always got along 
 without any trouble. If I do say it myself, I never knew a 
 quieter, more obedient wife. 
 
 Mrs. L. I don't doubt her obedience, Mr. Carter, not in the 
 least, but I do doubt the propriety of such marriages, especially be- 
 tween very young persons. Alice is too young to think of marry- 
 ing yet. When she is of proper age, she shall choose for herself. 
 I shall not attempt to dictate to her upon the subject of marriage. 
 A mother's advice is all I have to offer, and if I were offering any- 
 one advice now, it would be for Nathan to give up all hope of 
 ever winning Alice, for I am sure her heart is already another's. 
 I have intimated as much to Nathan several times. 
 
 Squire. You mean Harry List, I suppose.? And can you con- 
 sent for one of your family's most bitter enemies, to marry your 
 only child.? Do you not fear the old feud will be renewed in all 
 its hitterness.? Can a house divided against itself, stand.? 
 
 Mrs. L. That feud was a senseless, causeless quarrel, which I 
 hope will be forever consigned to oblivion by its youngest repre- 
 sentatives. 
 
 Squire. Mrs. Linton, I am astonished to hear you speak so. 
 You hope this for the furtherance of a love match between those 
 representatives, eh.? 
 
 Mrs. L. Mr. Carter, I beg you will not misunderstand me in 
 a way which reflects so decidedly upon my candor, and implies 
 an intrigue upon my part. Of all things, I depise hypocrisy 
 and intrigue. {Rises indignantly ) 
 
 Squire. {Rises, aside.) Hang it, I must not be too fast yet 
 {Aloud) I beg pardon, Mrs. Linton. I did'ent mean to re- 
 flect; never thought of such a thing. But you can see that the 
 conseqences of such a union might prove disastrous. Could you 
 not influence Alice to regard Nathan more favorably.? Your in- 
 fluence with her is very great. 
 
 Mrs. L. I know it is, but I will never use it to compel her to 
 marry a man she does not love. 
 
12 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 Squire. That is jour decision then? 
 
 Mrs. L. It is. 
 
 Sqtcire. Very well. I like people to decide such things in a 
 plain outspoken way. No halt-way underhand work for me. I 
 can respect such decisions as that. {Going.) Good morning, Mrs. 
 Linton. 
 
 Mrs L. Good day, Mr. Carter. {Exit R.) 
 
 Squire {Passing 'out L., as Mrs. L. passes out R.) Deuce 
 take it, may be when she has no roof over her head, Nathe 
 Carter's would be better than none for her and her high-toned 
 daughter. {Met at door by Nathan, -who enters.) 
 
 Nathan. Well Uncle, what success.-* 
 
 Squire. {Re-entering.) Curse it, no success at all. That girl 
 don't care a straw for you. But I did succeed too. The mortgage 
 is all right and that will bring both mother and daughter to 
 terms, or my name is'ent Simon Carter. 
 
 Nathan. ' Uncle, it looks pretty hard t() defraud helpless wom- 
 en in that way. I would like to have the girl and her property 
 if they could be bad honorably, but I almost wish we had never 
 begun to work by unfair means. 
 
 Squire. Bah! Don't turn coward and indulge in conscien- 
 tious scruples now, when it is too late. 
 
 Nathan. You may well say conscientious scruples, for what we 
 have begun is certainly wrong in the sight of Heaven. It would 
 be bi.se ingratitude in me, to betray those who have ever been 
 my best friends. 
 
 Squire. Nonsense, Nathan! It will be all right when the 
 property is yours and the girl your wife; can't she enjoy it, and 
 can't her mother share it too for that matter .!* *' Stratagem is fair 
 in love and in war." It will all be in the family still. 
 
 Nathan. 1 had'ent thought ot it in that light before. May be 
 all will be well in the end. I hope it will since we are into the ugly 
 business. But did you know that Tabbs suspects us; knows in 
 fact that those notes are not genuine.^ 
 
 Squire. The devil he does! How did he find that out.? 
 
 Natha7i. Overheard our conversation. He has already told 
 Alice, but she does not believe him. 
 
 Squire. He must be disposed of. 
 
 Nathan. But how.? 
 
 Squire. Trust me for that. I'll find some way. 
 
 Nathan. Hush, Uncle! We must not remain here talking. 
 We may be overheard again. 
 
 Squire, You are right. I must go at once. {Exeunt L.) 
 Ctcrtain. 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 1» 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene, Mrs. Linton's parlor. Time a few days after Act IF. 
 
 Mrs. L. Enters R. 
 
 Mrs L Simon Carter is rude in speech and manner, but I 
 have never doubted his honesty, even though ugly rumors were 
 afloat many years ago concerning him. Can labbs story be 
 true? No I have good leason to beHeve that my husband s af- 
 fairs' were' involved. Tabbs must be mistaken. That mortgage 
 places us in the power of Simon earter. His language the other 
 day seemed almost like a menace, but we must meet his claim, 
 and that is the only way left us. 
 
 Enter Alice R. 
 
 Alice. Mother, have you heard the news? 
 
 Mrs.L. No, Alice. What is it.? 
 
 Alice. George Harley ran away from home last night. 
 
 Mrs.L. Impossible. It can't be true! 
 
 Alice. But it is true, Mother. Susan Harley has just been 
 here and told Betsey all about it Mi. Harley siarted tins morn- 
 ing to the city, to see if he can hear anything ot George, and 
 Mrs. Harley has worried herself sick. She is abed now, and Dr. 
 Berry has been called in. ,. ^ ,■,.,. ^ 
 
 Mrs.L. Oh, the follies of hot-blooded youth! Could that 
 misguided boy but realize the unspeakable anguish which his per- 
 veisiLy has caused his parents, he would pause in horror at its 
 consequences. But his ungovernable passions like a fierce si-^ 
 moon, have consumed his better qualities, dried up the springs ot 
 filial love, and lefc his he rt a barren waste, scorched by its own 
 mad passions. Poor boy! Sometime he will repent his folly. 
 Mrs. Harley' s grief brings back to me the sad remembrance of 
 our own poor wanderer, laid to rest in a strange land, your own 
 lost brother Oscar. , . ^ 
 
 Alice. Dear mother, do not call him lost. I feel that he is yet 
 alive, and will some day return to us despite his foolish vow. 
 
 Mrs. L. Banish the thought. The evidence of his death and 
 burial, is too strong to allow us to cherish such delusive hopes. 
 
 Alice. Oh, mother, don't speak so. You know that I cherish 
 the hope that he is yet alive, as dearer than all else. 
 
 Enter Tabbs L. 
 
 Tabds. {Aside.) Ceptin Massa Harry. How dese women 
 folks will be meanin about one thing whendey's talkin about an- 
 
14 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 other, and dat other not on de subjec at all. (Aloud.) Beg 
 pardon for interruptin de felicities of dis occasion, but 
 
 Alice. Tabbs, go away with your nonsense and ludicrous talk. 
 Will you never learn to stop your highflown gibberish? What 
 are you here for? Don't you know better than to intrude? 
 Our conversation is private. 
 
 Tabbs. Private ! Dat's what de cruitin officer wanted me to 
 be. Dis chile prefers to be soused from private life jes now. 
 
 Alice. Tabbs, leave this room instantly. 
 
 Mrs. L. Alice, Tabbs does not deserve rebuke. His genial 
 good nature has often sent a ray of sunshine through this house, 
 when all around was gloomy. His unskilled tongue speaks many 
 & generous thought with a grotesque expression, but an honest 
 purpose. 
 
 Tabbs. Your pardon, Missa, but the gemman, Massa Hafry, 
 is done tired waitin. 
 
 Mrs. L. Is Harry at the door? Show him in at once, Tabbs. 
 
 Tabbs retires L. re-enters bowing in Harry List. 
 
 Harry. Good morning, Mrs. Linton. Good morning, Alice. 
 
 Mrs. L. Good morning, Harry. We are glad to see you. 
 
 Alice. Good morning, Harry. I'm so glad that rou have come. 
 I have been wanting ever so much to see you. We have been 
 making arrangements for a dinner, lor Capt. Wilson's Company, 
 next Thursday, and we shall need you to help get things ready. 
 Take a seat, Harry, till I tell you all about it. {All seated, 
 Harry L., Mrs. L. C, Alice R.) 
 
 Harry. I have another engagement for that day, which will 
 prevent me from assisting you in the preparations for the dinner. 
 I suspect Capt. Wilson's Company will dine out that day. 
 
 Alice. Pshaw! An engagement which will prevent you from 
 assisting at the dinner! The Company will dine out! Of course 
 they will — in the open air. None of your jokes, Harry. 
 
 Harry. I'm not joking. I was never more in earnest in my 
 life. 
 
 Alice. What do you mean, Harry? 
 
 Harry. I've enlisted. 
 
 Harry. Yes; I have enrolled my name in Capt. Wilson's 
 Company. To-day I shall don a soldier's coat for better or 
 worse, that is for three years or during the war. 
 
 Alice. Oh Harry how I shall miss you! We never can endure 
 to lose you, perhaps forever. I shall go mad at the dreadful 
 thought that you might be killed or crippled for life. Oh the 
 cruel, cruel exactions of war! 
 
 Mrs. L. Be calm my child, Harry is yet safe. We must trust 
 to God to preserve him. Harry this is sudden. You have never 
 told us anything about your intending to enlist. Have you your 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 16 
 
 father's consent? Why have you resolved so suddenly to leave 
 a comfortable home and brave the dangers of the battle field ? 
 
 Harry. This morning father asked me again to cease my 
 visits here. I refused. He urged that I should not visit where 
 he was not free to go. I told him humbly and with sorrow that 
 his objections were founded upon prejudices which should have 
 been forgotten long ago, and that I respected his wishes but could 
 not admit his right to choose for me. In a violent pa>sion he 
 ordered me to obey him or leave his house and never more call 
 myself his son. It was a hard choice but honor bade me stand 
 by my convictions, and now I wish to say to you something which 
 I had long hoped to say under more auspicious circumstances and 
 with father's approval. Mrs. Linton, I love Alice dearly and I 
 think that she loves me although no vows have ever passed our 
 lips. I ask you to let her be my wife, if I am fortunate enough 
 ever to return from the armj alive. I could not join my youth- 
 ful comrades in the camp until I had unfolded to dear ones at 
 home, my long cherished hope. As for Alice this boy's confes- 
 sion brings no tidings new to her. Her answer I have guessed 
 already. Alice have I guessed right? 
 Alice. Yes, dear Harry, yes. 
 
 Mrs. L. Harry, you are both young. Alice is too young to think 
 of plighting her faith to anyone for years. And then our future 
 is so uncertain. Her father's affairs are yet unsettled, we may 
 have plenty; we may be left in want. The old feud between 
 your kindred and Alice's can you ever forget? 
 
 Harry. Mrs. Linton, I have not forgotten that deep seated 
 enmity. I remember it as a thing which should be forever banished 
 out of"^ sight. Its unhallowed dregs are too bitter for .. blivion. 
 It is that alas! which brings me here to-day to speak my love. A 
 boy's love it may be, yes a child's love you may call it, for it sprang 
 up and reached maturity amid the happy scenes of our childhood 
 days. But the man's reflective moods can not forget the boy's 
 swGct Drcfcrcrict'* 
 
 Mrs. L. Have vou considered the consequences of this estrange- 
 ment from your father? They may afiect your future welfare and 
 thev deserve more than a passing thought. Is it wise to bring 
 into such close relations those whom years of enmity may 
 sunder? 
 
 Barry. It were better than to blight two lives with grudges m 
 which they had no part. 
 
 Mrs. L. True my brave boy, but there is plenty of time. When 
 you return from the battlefield crowned with honors as I know 
 you must, if God spares you, Alice shall decide. 
 
 Harry. God bless you Mrs. Linton. If the foeman spares me 
 I shall return to claim Alice as my bride. 
 
 Alice. Oh Harry you will return safe. It would break my 
 heart to hear that you were killed. Oh the miseries of war! 
 Why did you enlist, Harry? 
 
 Harry. No ties are sacred enough to bind the treeman when 
 
16 ODDS WITH TEIE ENEMY. 
 
 his country calls. But time presses. The company starts at three. 
 
 ALice. Must you go to-day Harry? 
 
 Harry. Yes, and this minute. 
 
 Alice. Oh, don't go yet. 
 
 Harry. I must. Good bye, Mrs. Linton. (Shake hands.) 
 
 Mrs. L. Good bye, Harry ; brave patriot, that you are. MajT 
 you have God's blessing; you have mine. 
 
 Harry. Good bye, dear Alice. Should I fail, remember I 
 have only done my duty. I will write. For my sake do not de- 
 spair. {Kisses her. She clings to Iiim.) Have courage. Trust in 
 God and your country's cause. F.irewell. 
 
 Alice. Farewell, dear Harry. God be w^iih you. {Harry 
 presses lier hand in silence. Exit.) What will become of us.-* 
 It is dreadful to tliink that the innocent must shed their blood in 
 the quarrels of wicked men. What grievances have we to fight 
 for.^ Why don't they send their own sons.'* 
 
 Mrs. L. Every one owes a sacred duty to his country. You 
 should not complain. Our grief is but a mite in the great woe 
 around us. Others are bearing even heavier burdens. 
 
 Alice. I know that, but the griefs of others does not lessen mine, 
 
 Mrs. L. It does not, but it shou d teach us not to consider our 
 sorrows alone, while those around us are borne down by son ows 
 as great as ours. Cheer up my child. {Aside.) Her grief pre- 
 fers communion with itself. {Exit R.) 
 
 Alice. {Passionately.) He is gone, gone. Must every one I 
 love be torn from me. First my Brother Oscar when I was but 
 a child, and now dear Harry is hurried off, perhaps to fill a 
 soldier's grave. The very thought is dreadful. ( Weeps.) Yet 
 M^hy should I cherish my grief, when Harry must bear his in 
 silence among strangers.? For his sake I will try to cheer up 
 and hope for the best. Somebody's coming. (Nathan appears 
 at door R.) 
 
 Nathan. I wished to speak a few words with you. {Aside.) 
 She turns away. She has been weeping. What can be the matter.? 
 
 Alice. I will listen to you however painful the subject may be 
 to both of us. 
 
 Nathan. Dear Alice you remember I desired you to reconsider 
 the question which I asked you the other day. I hope reflection 
 has softened your heart towards one who loves you as his own 
 life. If you wish more time take it. I will wait. 
 
 Alice. I have not hardened mv heart, towards you Nathan 
 God knows you are dear to me. But I will speak plainly. I love 
 another. 
 
 Nathan. Could you not love me.? Is there no hope.? 
 
 Alice. I love you with a sister's h<}liest love and you cannot 
 know how it pains me to answer you thus, knowing as I do what 
 misery that answer will cost you. Nathan for your own sake 
 and mine, never mention this subject to me again for we never 
 can be aught to each other but brother and sister. {Exit R.) 
 
 Nathan. I am decided. Fair means will not win. Fate makes 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 17 
 
 me a villain. (Exit R.) 
 
 Enter Betsey R. meeting Nathan. 
 
 Betsey. Mr. N ithan looks decidedly blue to day. I know what's 
 the matter though. He has been declaring his love for Miss 
 Alice again and has got another refusal for his pains. What 
 stupid idiots some men are! They can't take a hint. Some of 
 them will hanker around and ask half a dozen times if a woman 
 refuses them. Others will keep coming and coming but never 
 have courage enough to ask a plain question. I have no patience 
 with either sort and Lanty Nixon is one ot the latter. Why 
 don't he speak his mind.? Goodness knows he has chances 
 enough! If he does'ent soon make his intentions known I'll just 
 bestow a little attention somewhere else. Lanty is jealous of 
 that crack-brained fop who cails himself J. McClure Hopkinson. 
 Well he is too nice for this world. I don't care though. {Knocking 
 heard.) Who's there.? {Goes to door L.) Come in Lanty. 
 
 Lanty. Good afternoon Betsey. I have called in to tell Mrs. 
 Linton I left the groceries at the kitchen door. 
 
 Betsey. Very well, 1 will call Mrs. Linton. 
 
 Lanty. No, its unnecessary, Miss Bluft'. I'll tell you what I 
 brought. {Approaches closely.) There wa^ ten pounds 
 
 Betsey. You need not get so close, Lanty. I'm not hard of 
 hearing. 
 
 Lanty. No, but you see I am responsible for these groceries, 
 anil I'm going to see that they are all properly inventoried by 
 some one connected with the establishment. 
 
 Betsey. What do you mean, Lanty Nixon, by calling this 
 house an establishinent. 
 
 Lanty. Well, what shall I call it.? It seems to me you are 
 getting a little particular about your language. Call it an insti- 
 tution then, or a chebang. 
 
 Betsey. Chebang indeed! Lanty Nixon, where do you pick 
 up all your slang.? 
 
 Lanty. See here Betsey, I'm in a hurry ; so if you please we 
 will go on with that inventory. There was ten pounds of coffee, 
 one codfish (not one of the aristocracy either), and fifteen pounds 
 of sugar as sweet as {Kisses her.) 
 
 Betsey. {Slaps him.) Lanty, you're a fool. 
 
 Lanty. May be I am. Betsey, but I'm sure of one thing, 
 
 Betsey. What is that.? 
 
 Lanty. I know a good article when I've sampled it. 
 
 Betsey. Get out, you good for nothing! 
 
 Lanty. Betsey, listen a minute. I wish to ask you a question. 
 
 Betsey. Oh, do you. {Aside.) He is going to pop the ques- 
 tion at last. {Aloud.) Go on, Lanty, I am ready to listen. 
 
 Lanty. Why did you devote yourself to 'that addle-pated 
 Hopkinson, the other night at Jones's party.? 
 
 Betsey. Is that any difference to you? 'Can't I entertain who- 
 
18 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 ever I please without asking you? 
 
 Lanty. I suppose you can, if you choose to slight your friends. 
 
 Betsey. Slight my friends! Humph! Must I sit and entertain 
 you all night? You don't seem to appreciate it any too well. 
 
 Lanty. You know well enough what that Hopkinson is. 
 
 Betsey. What is he? 
 
 Lanty. He is nothing but a sniffling, stuck up counter hopper. 
 
 Betsey. Yes, he is a counter hopper, but he does not handle 
 cheese and codfish, and greasy bacon. Lanty, it is so nice to go 
 a shopping there, and have him display his goods. How charm- 
 ingly he himdles the yard stick. 
 
 Lanty. I'd like to break his head with it. 
 
 Enter Tabbs L. 
 
 Tdbhs. Could'ent do it Massa Lanty, for did'ent Miss Alice 
 read in de Filosomy, dat a hollow tube am stronger than a solid 
 one. Miss Betsey, here am a card from a gemman below. 
 
 Betsey. (Reads.) *'J McClure Hopkinson." Show him in, 
 Tabbs. (Arranges furniturey etc) 
 
 Enter Tabbs followed by J. Mc. 
 
 J. Mc. Ah! Good aflehnoon, Miss Bluff. How aw you? I 
 
 hope you are well. 
 
 Betsey. I am quite well, thank you. How are you? 
 
 J. Mc. Very well indeed. Good aftehnoon, Mistah Nixon, 
 
 Lanty. Good day, Mr. Hopkinson. 
 
 Betsey. Take seats, gentlemen. (J. Mc. takes a seat.) 
 
 J. Mc. Ah! Yes, thank you; hawdly have time though. 
 
 (Seated J. Mc. R. C, Betsey R., Lanty L. C, Tabbs stands L.) 
 
 Tdbhs. (Aside.) Golly, he am a stunner, sure. 
 
 J. Me. I thought I would call, ah. I did not know but you 
 might want to walk down to the depot, to see the soldiah boys 
 off this aftehnoon. As I passed here, I thought I would stop. 
 Perhaps we might go togetheh. 
 
 Betsey. Nothing would please me better than to accompany 
 you. 
 
 J. Mc. Ah indeed! Thank you, aw you ready? 
 
 Betsey. I shall be ready in a moment. Excuse me. (Exit R.) 
 
 J. Mc. Certainlj- ; certainly. 
 
 Tabbs. (Aside to Lanty) Massa Lanty your cake am dough for 
 this evening anyway. 
 
 J. Mc. Do you think of enlisting Mistah Nixon? 
 
 Lanty. (Fiercely.) No I do not. 
 
 J. Mc. Beg pahdon, I diden't know but you would. Most 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 19 
 
 young men desiah to rush to arms but for my part I prefer to stay 
 at home. 
 
 Tahbs. And rush into arms. Sometimes it am mighty sweet 
 to rush into arms at home. Dis individual is willin to serve his 
 country dat way too. 
 
 Lanty. Patriots of that stripe are as plenty as bad excuses and 
 just as useful. A great many stay at home because they are unwil- 
 ling to defend the country which protects them. 
 
 J. Mc. Oh ! ah ! Did I understand — {Indignantly y both rise, 
 enter Betsey.) Ah! are you ready Miss Bluft? 
 
 Betsey, lam ready. Good afternoon Mr. Nixon. You will excuse 
 my abrupt departure. It is time to go and I presume you wish to 
 see the boys start too. Mrs. Linton and Alice will entertain you 
 in the meantime. Good afternoon. 
 
 Lanty. Good afternoon Miss Bluff. I'm obliged to you for your 
 kindness but I shant need any entertaining this afternoon. 
 
 J. Me. Good aftehnoon Mistah Nixon. {Exeunt L.) 
 
 Tabhs. If deenemy'd get him dey would put him in de imagi- 
 nary wid de baboons sure. 
 
 Lanty. Confound the impudent puppy. What a fool I've 
 been! Blind as a bat! 
 
 Tabbs. Massa Lanty, excuse dis individual in correctin one 
 little mistake of yours. 
 
 Lanty. What is that.? 
 
 Tabbs. Massa Nixon I'se gwine to state plain facs and you 
 must'nt get riled either. 
 
 Lanty. Well, go on, hang it. 
 
 Tabbs. Stead of Massa Hopkinson's beein a puppy it was 
 massa Nixon. Why.-* Case Masya Nixon" s eyes was'ent opened 
 at fust. 
 
 Lanty. Shut up you black rascal. {Kicks him as he escapes R.) 
 
 Enter Mrs. L. and Alice. 
 
 Mrs. L. Why Lanty! what are you doing? 
 
 Lanty. Nothing; we were only joking. 
 
 Tabbs. {Re-enters.) What would he do if he was in arnest.? 
 I'd jt s like to know. 
 
 Alice. Tabbs is always joking and your inclination to levity 
 is little less than his. Lanty, we never know when you are in 
 earnest, 
 
 Lanty. You hit the mark that time Alice. Excessive levity 
 is my failing. But tc-day I cast aside that wretched garb of non- 
 sense and am determifted on a manly resolution. 
 
 Alice. What is that Lanty.? 
 
 Lnnty. I shall enlist to-morrow. 
 
 Mrs. L. Why you said this morning you were not going to 
 the army. 
 
 Lanty. I have changed my mind. 
 
 Alice. How sudden this is.f Is everybody going to the war? 
 
20 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 What made you change jour mind so soon Lantj? If you must 
 go I am glad you are going with Harry. Betsey will be a sympa- 
 thizing companion in my grief. Why do you look so grave.? 
 Any thing wrong between you and Betsey.'* 
 
 Tabbs. Reckon Miss Betsey's grief wont 
 
 Lanty. Tabbs I wish you to understand I can manage my 
 affairs without your assistance. 
 
 Tabbs. Yes massa. 
 
 Lanty. I guess there is nothing wrong. I've changed my 
 mind; that's all. I can't go with Harry though for I am not ready 
 to start this afternoon. 
 
 Alice. Why ! haven't you heard that our boys have orders to 
 remain until to-morrow.'' 
 
 Lanty. Good luck! Then I will go with Harry. 
 
 Mrs. L. Where is Betsey.? Did she not tell you of the delay? 
 
 Lanty. She knew nothing of it herself. 
 
 Alice. I was hoping Harry would come home this evening 
 but I suppose he could not get leave of absence. 
 
 Enter Harry followed by Squire, Nathan, Tabbs L. 
 
 Harry. But he did though. 
 
 Alice. Oh it's Harry (Rushes into his arms.) 
 
 Squire. Zounds! what does this mean.? (Alice starts and 
 screams.) Mrs. Linton do you approve of your daughter's rushing 
 into the arms of a young man in this way.? It you do las her 
 guardian must express my unqualified disapproval of such un- 
 womanly conduct. I came expecting to see that young upstart 
 urging his preposterous claims but I confess I was not prepared 
 for this scene. 
 
 Lanty. (Aside.) A Spy, 
 
 Harry. Squire Carter, do you dare to insinuate that Miss 
 Linton would be guilty of an unwomanly act.? 
 
 Squire. Who are you boy who thus presumes to question me in 
 regard to what I shall say to my ward.? You bear the uniform 
 of a soldier of your country but you have yet to learn the respect 
 due your superiors. I'm thinking that will be the first lesson 
 you will get. 
 
 Harry. If you choose to use insulting language in the presence 
 of ladies I shall dare to question your right to do so, even at the 
 risk of being considered a fit subject for receiving lessons on 
 politeness. 
 
 Tabbs. (Aside.) Massa Carter needs a few lessons in de 
 a-b-c's of dat branch. 
 
 Lanty. (Aside.) I'd like to be his teacher. (Aloud.) Squire 
 Carter, if you came here as a spy why did'entyou listen at the door 
 where you could hear all that was said without the restraint of 
 your presence.? That would be more in keeping with your mission. 
 
 Nathan. (Aside.) Can he suspect me.? 
 
 Squire. Boy, I know my place and my business. Who presumes 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 34 
 
 to tell me here what I shall or shall not say? 
 
 Alice. Mr. Carter I am sorry if I have offended you. 
 
 Harry. Mr. Carter your language reflects not only on Mrs, 
 Linton and Alice but on the entire company. For my part 1 
 scorn your insinuations as unworthy of — »- 
 
 Mrs. L. Harry, please keep cool. 
 
 Squire. As unworthy of a gentleman. I understand. You 
 cooly insult me do you.? 
 
 Harry. My language is plain ; you can interpret for yourself. 
 
 Lanty. Mr. Carter you first offered an insult I think, and can 
 not complain if you are paid in your own coin. 
 
 Mrs. L. Gentlemen please do not forget where you are. I am 
 surprised at this unseemly wrangle. 
 
 Squire. What is unseemly } Mrs. Linton do you call me to 
 account for plain advice because it was too plain.? Remember I 
 have the power to exact satisfaction for these injuries. You well 
 know my power over this house and you ought to know that 
 Simon Carter can resent an insult. Mr. List you will find that 
 my influence is not confined to this neighborhood. I have friends 
 in the 13th regiment who will be only too glad to favor me by 
 granting any little requests I may make. 
 
 Lanty. Tools for work which you would'ent stoop to do your- 
 self. 
 
 Tabbs. {Aside.) Plaguey low work Squire Carter would have 
 to stoop to, hi, yi. 
 
 Squire. And so you feel at liberty, Mr. Nixon, to interfere 
 here with your meddling impertinence. Your impudence is un- 
 endurable, though you are excusable for imitating the example 
 of your superiors. But by Heaven, Til have satisfaction for all 
 this. 
 
 Nathan. Confound it Uncle, can't you stop.? What's the use 
 of all this row.? Has your honor been assailed.? 
 
 Tabbs. {Aside.) Dat would be sailin an illusion. 
 
 Squire. I have been insulted; grossly injured. 
 
 Alice. Mr. Carter, it was all my fault, please forgive Harry, 
 and I'll bear all the blame. 
 
 Harry. I don't think I shall suffer much without forgiveness. 
 
 Mrs. L. Remember, Mr. Carter, that youth is rash and apt to 
 be hasty. 
 
 Lanty. And that old folks are sometimes more than hasty. 
 
 Squire. More than hasty! What do you mean? 
 
 Mrs. L. Mr. Carter, do not be unreasonable because the boys 
 may happen to be inconsiderate. Let us drop this subject. 
 
 Squire. We will not waste words. I am unreasonable, am I? 
 So be it. I am a match for all of you, when it comes to the test 
 of power. 
 
 Tabbs. {Aside.) A lucifer match I spect. 
 
 Squire. Mrs. Linton, when you find yourself without a roof to 
 shelter you; when you are deserted, friendless, and penniless; 
 perhaps you will remember that the Carters wished to be your 
 
22 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 friends, and that you spurned their proffered kindness to accept 
 from otliers, a delusive friendship which could only prove a 
 curse. Adieu. (Exit L.) 
 
 ARRANGEMENT OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 C. 
 
 Mrs. L., Alice, 
 
 R. Lanty, Tabbs. Harry, NATHA>f L. 
 
 SLOW CURTAIN. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Three years have elapsed between Act III and IV. Scene, — Mrs. 
 L. seated by a tabic sewing. Boom poorly furnished. Evidences 
 of great poverty. 
 
 Knocking. Mrs. L. opens door L. Squire Carter appears. 
 
 Mrs. L. Simon Carter! 
 
 Squire. Good morning, Mrs. Linton. I hope you are well. 
 
 Mrs. L. You hope I am well ! You who have blighted for- 
 ever the hopes of a once happy household. Dare you speak the 
 word hope? 
 
 Squire. Mrs. Linton, I have not come here to call up the bit- 
 ter things of the past. Let us forget the past. 
 
 Mrs. L. You taunt me with my wrongs when you speak of the 
 past. 
 
 Squire. I am not here to speak of what might have been but 
 of what may yet be. 
 
 Mrs. L. What can you have to say to me? Wiiy do you pre- 
 sume to enter this house? Poor as it is it has never been con- 
 taminated by the presence of such as Simon Carter. 
 
 Squire. Stay Mrs. Linton. We have been enemies but let 
 enmity listen to reason, may you not have judged too severe) v? 
 Your lot has truly been a hard one, but who is to blame? Your 
 late husband's property passed to his creditors of whom I was the 
 principal one. Your homestead became mine under a mortgage 
 which you gave willingly and of which you admitted the justice. 
 You and your daughter have hardened your hearts against me 
 and my nephew Nathan, him who once was called your son. It 
 is for him I have come to speak. Whatever slights I may have 
 endured are satisfied. Yes I may say forgotten. //<? has always 
 been your friend. He would again be your son and more than a 
 brother to Alice. Will you accept a reconciliation? 
 
 Mrs. L. And is this your mission? Our interview is ended. 
 
 Squire Then you prefer poverty to Comfolrt? 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 28 
 
 Mrs. L. Ay, a thousand times better poverty, than one penny 
 of your hated wealth or this degrading alliance. (Turns azuay.) 
 
 Squire. {Aside.) Unyielding as adamant. We must have the 
 girl though or our title is unsafe and the boys may come home 
 any day. But I've another plan or two. (Aloud.) Mrs. Linton. 
 I have been talking to day with Mr. List about this house, you 
 know it is so close to my property that it really detracts from the 
 value of my residence quite materially. I believe ji?« thought it 
 an eye-sore when you occupied the Linton Mansion. If we must 
 be enemies, more than a stone's throw should separate us. 
 
 Mrs. L. And you wish Mr. List to turn us out of the house 
 and pull it down do you? 
 
 Squire. I have only to say the word. 
 
 Mrs.L. Then say it. You are strong and I am weak, but in the 
 sense of duty done, and in the approval of a conscience at peace 
 with its possessor, there is a bulwark of safety which your guilty 
 soul has never known Simon Carter. 
 
 Squire. I never knew a conscience which could shelter its 
 possessor from wind or rain. You know Mr. List.? 
 
 Mrs. L. Yes. I do know Mr. List as the livelong enemy of 
 our family, yet I believe for all that, he is a man too honorable to 
 stoop to such a crime for crime it would be. 
 
 Squire We will see about that. In the meantime consider 
 the proposition I have made. Nathan will talk the matter over 
 with Alice. Good day, Mrs. Linton. {Exit L.) 
 
 Mrs. L. Have our persecutions begun anew! Why is Simon 
 Carter so anxious that Nathan should marry Alice.? They have 
 our property. What more can they want? I fear they have some 
 other horrible scheme to put into execution. , 
 
 Enter Betsey R. 
 
 Betsey is it not time for Alice to return from school? 
 
 Betsey. Yes, and I saw her coming down the road with Nathan 
 Carter. 
 
 Alice. {Entering followed by Nathan.) Never never will I 
 be your wife and I never want to see your face again. 
 
 Nathan. Ah! good morning mother. Good morning. Miss 
 Betsey. 
 
 Mrs.L. Nathan Carter, you will please not call me mother. 
 Once I was moved with joy to hear a sweet good morning mother 
 from one who I fondly hoped would fill the place of my own lost 
 son. But the bitter wrongs which we have suffered at the 
 hands of you and yours, forbid that we should ever be aught to 
 each other again but 
 
 Nathan. Enemies. Let me say a word in self-defence. 
 
 Mrs.L. Cruel injustice has been done and no defence can 
 change a wrong to right. 
 
 Nathan. No, very true. You may haVe had wrongs and you 
 will admit that we also had rights. 
 
24 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 Mrs. L. Strange rights that will turn helpless women from 
 their homes destitute . 
 
 Nathan. Strange yet strict justice. Mrs. Linton, have we 
 claimed more than our own.? Was not your husband's property 
 justly forfeited to his creditors.'' Did we not agree for a penny.'* 
 
 Betsey. For the last penny. 
 
 Mrs. L. I do not complain of the payment but only of the 
 manner of payment. Why was our homestead ruthlessly sold 
 at such a sacrifice as ruined us.'* Why were we not given a little 
 time until friends could have aided us.? 
 
 Nathan. The mortgage was due and you failed to raise the money 
 to release it. Uncle was pressed for means. What else could he do.? 
 Who were the friends you speak of .? But those things are done 
 and can not be undone. Let us remember only the happy days 
 when I was one of you. Perhaps the future more generous than 
 the past can make some reparation. 
 
 Mrs. L. Say no more. I know of what you would speak. 
 You can make no reparation. 
 
 Nathan. I can place you in the enjoyment of plenty, if Alice 
 will only be my wife. 
 
 Mrs. L. Your wife indeed ! Can you ask a woman to become 
 the wife of one who has deprived her of her inheritance, and 
 sent her into the world degraded and neglected.? We are poor 
 but we will never redeem our own with the price of honor. 
 
 Nathan. Wherein is the dishonor if she weds one who has 
 long loved her ardently and devotedly.? 
 
 Mrs. L. And whom she despises from the very depths of her 
 heart. Nathan Carter if this is your only mission here vou will 
 oblige us by taking your leave at once. 
 
 Nathan. {To Alice.) Is this your answer then.? 
 
 Alice. You have heard your answer. If there is one spark of 
 manhood in your perfidious bosom leave this house at once and 
 never desecrate it again with your hateful presence. 
 
 Nathan. (Aside.) Baffled again, when sure of success. But 
 I'll win yet. (Aloud to Alice.) So you stubbornly persist in 
 your foolish course. Then if want resumes her sway to humble 
 your proud notions of love and honor, you cannot lay the blame 
 upon me. Heaven is my witness that I have tried to help you. 
 Mrs. Linton, Alice secured her situation as teacher in the village 
 school through my influence. That favor has not been appreci- 
 ated and I can bestow it in more grateful hands. Must you be 
 compelled to listen to reason.? 
 
 Alice. Your boasted help you gave for a selfish purpose. I 
 despise the motive and the man. When we hear anything reason- 
 able doubtless we will listen to reason. 
 
 Nathan. Reasonable or unreasonable you will soon hear from 
 us again. Adieu ladies until we meet again. (Exit L.) 
 
 Mrs. L. Until we meet again! When will our pursuers rest 
 satisfied with their dark deeds ! 
 
 Betsey. Their race will be run sometime. « It is a long lane 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 25 
 
 that has no turning." I don't see any turning for us yet, unless 
 tt is where it turns to the poor house. But talking will do no good. 
 I must see about the supper. {Exit R.) 
 
 Mrs L Ever ready for the call of duty. Betsey with all her 
 faults is a noble woman. She has been true to us in prosperity 
 and more than a friend in adversity. Her presence is a daily re- 
 minder that generosity and fidelity yet linger on earth. 
 
 Alice Mother why does Nathan Carter persist in annoying me 
 with his unmanly attentions.? Is the man a lunatic? I hate the 
 very name of Carter. 
 
 Mrs L My darling child, the Carters have some new purpose 
 to work out. What it may be time alone will tell. Simon Carter 
 was here this afternoon and asked me as he did once years ago, 
 to use my influence with you in favor of Nathan. Like the 
 nephew he made fair promises. When I spurned with mdigna- 
 tion his base proposal, he threatened us with further perse- 
 
 "^"^AUce. Simon Carter was here too! Then Nathan did not 
 meet me by chance this afternoon as he falsely pretended. 
 
 Mrs L. No he placed himself in your way and persisted m 
 following you here contrary to your wishes as a part of their 
 plot. I cannot even guess their purpose. Our future is ominous. 
 May Heaven protect us for we know that Simon Carter is a dan- 
 gerous man when determined upon evil. 
 
 Alice All we can do is to wait and work. Mother, we can not 
 neglect the duties of the present to speculate about the future. 
 Unremitting toil stares us constantly in the face. The labors of 
 to-day are not yet finished and call me to my task. {Exit K.) 
 
 Mrs. L. Oh this bitter pinching poverty! How I used to 
 wonder that people could ever become so helplessly, hopelessly 
 poor. God knows I realize it now as I never could when I was 
 the petted child of a rich and indulgent father or the idolized 
 wife of a noble generous husband whose means afforded him the 
 opportunity to indulge my slightest wish. Truly our reverses 
 have been swift and remorseless. Only four short years ago we 
 were in a beautiful home surrounded by every comfort and novj 
 we drain the very dregs of poverty's bitter cup, friendless and 
 
 penniless. ^ 
 
 Enter Betsey R. 
 
 Betsey. Mrs. Linton, George Harley has just come home from 
 the army, and Capt. Wilson has been up at the Squire s and Pet- 
 tus Pettifog, the Squire's Lawyer. 
 
 Mrs. L. Harry and Lanty will soon be home too, I suppose, 
 as the war is over. Perhaps George brings some news of them. 
 
 Betsey. None! Susan says he has never seen either of them, 
 nor heard from them since he left home. 
 
 Mrs. L, Alas! Others' sons may return, but mine is gone 
 never to return. Even he whom I hoped to call my son, by his 
 silence is dead to us. Betsey, can we not hope that Lanty may 
 
26 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 be to us again what he once was? I cannot believe that every 
 
 one has deserted us. 
 
 Betsey. Whatever Lanty may be to us, if he should return, I 
 do not deserve that he should fill the place he once filled. I 
 drove him to enlist by an inconsiderate flirtation, and proudly 
 refused an explanation until he left me, believing I preferred 
 another. 
 
 Mrs. L, Is that the only reason of his silence? 
 
 Betsey. I know of no other reason. 
 
 Mrs. L. Did you say that Capt. Wilson was at Squire Car- 
 ters? He could tell us something of Harry and Lanty. 
 
 Betsey. Yes, if he chose. But in my opinion you would get 
 precious little information out of him. You remember that 
 Squire Carter said his influence might be felt even in the army. 
 
 Mrs. L. I remember that. 
 
 Betsey. Capt. Wilson is that influence. He is the cat's-paw 
 of Simon Carter. They are up to something now, or that com- 
 pound of meaness and deceit, Pettus Pettifog, would not be there. 
 Somebody will have to pay for that visit. Susan says, that 
 Jim Black, Squire's hired man, overheard Mr. Pettifog say, 
 " Deuced ugly business if that nigger should turn up." Of course 
 that nigger is Tabbs. I always believed that Tabbs' story about 
 the forgeries of Simon Carter was true. I am more than ever 
 convinced of its truth since the chief witness against Tabbs has 
 said that he believed Tabbs never stole the coat w hich he was 
 accused of taking, 
 
 Mrs. L. Tabbs' story may be true. True or false, it matters 
 little to us now. But would Squire Carter dare to banish a citi- 
 zen on account of a person;;l grudge? 
 
 Betsey. Dare! These are times when men dare do anything 
 without fear of punishment. Squire Carter knew that there 
 would be plenty to back him in that. Think of poor Tabbs or- 
 dered by a mob to leave the country after a mock trial, and glad 
 to get away a ive too. All because Squire Carter was alraid he 
 might tell the truth in regard to some things which he preferred 
 to remain secret. Everybody knows Tabbs was not guilty of 
 theft. But what avails innocence against villainy which has 
 the power to carry out its infamous schemes. 
 
 Mrs. L. Suppose Tabbs should venture to return, which is 
 not at all probable, I don't see how he could aid us or hurt Simon 
 Carter in the least. 
 
 Betsey. I don't see either, but lawyers don't say such things 
 without some reason. 
 
 Mrs. L. Did Susan hear anything further from Jim about the 
 conversation? 
 
 Betsey. No: only that they were talking about letters, and as 
 he passed the window he saw on the table some papers which 
 they seemed to be talking about. Susan was in such a hurry to 
 get' home that she did not wait to tell me the particulars if she 
 knew anything more. 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 27 
 
 Knocking heard L. A boy delivers a letter to Betsey, who goes to 
 the door. 
 
 A letter for Miss Alice. Calls Alice, who enters R. Alice 
 here is a letter a boy has just brought for you. 
 
 Alice. Why who can have written to me: can it be from Har- 
 ry.'' Takes letter. No, it has no post mark, and the word 
 "present." 
 
 Tears it open, reads aloud. 
 
 LiNTONVlLLE, April 20, 1865. 
 Miss Alice Linton: 
 
 For some lime past the Directors of this district have con- 
 sidered the advisability of employing some one else to teach our 
 school. We are satistied that a change is now necessary. Your 
 successor will take charge of the School next Monday. Very 
 truly, yours, 
 
 Simon Carter, Clerk of Board. 
 
 Alice. The last blow has fallen ! 
 
 Mrs. L. No, not the last. They will turn us out of the house 
 next. 
 
 Alice. We are indeed at their mercy, defenceless women with 
 no protectors. Oh! when will Harry and Lanty return? What 
 can be the cause of their long silence.'' 
 
 Mrs. L. My child, cease your vain regrets. Harry has evi- 
 denty forgotten us; then why should we remember him? His 
 coming would bring no joy to our hearts. 
 
 Alice. She speaks truly. It must be so, but the thought is a 
 death knell to my last vain hope. How could one, the very type 
 of honor, act so ba>ely without even a word of explanation. I 
 can't believe it. I'll not believe it. I will hope on till he tells me 
 from his own lips, that he wishes to be released. 
 
 Mrs. L. Your hope is delusive. We are indeed forsaken by 
 all who could render assistance in an hour of need. 
 
 Alice. Not by all. Heaven watches over the distressed, and 
 will some dny avenge the wrongs of the innocent. 
 
 Betsey. Well, we have our hands and the wide world to make 
 a living in, if that's any consolation. Help will come from some 
 quarttr. " The darkest hour is just before the dawning." 
 
 Curtain. 
 
 ACT V. 
 
 One month has elapsed between Acts IV. and V. 
 
 Scene, Table C. seated '^rs. L. /?. Alice i?. Betsey L. Knock- 
 ing L. Betsey goes to door. Enter Phcebe. 
 
 Betsey. Come in Phcebe. We are glad to see you. 
 Phoebe. Good morning Mrs. Linton, good morning Misa 
 Alice. 
 
28 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 Alice^ \ ^°°*^ morning PhcEbe. (S^a^e hands.) 
 
 Mrs. L. Take a seat, Phoebe. We seldom see you now. 
 Have you too forgotten old friends and the days when you found 
 a place at our hearth? 
 
 Phoebe. No, I have not forgotten you Mrs. Linton. The 
 thought ot you and your trials has cost me many a sleepless 
 night, many a bitter tear of regret. Mrs. Linton I never shall 
 forget your kindness to me. Oh! that I had been more worthy 
 of it. 
 
 Mrs L. Why do you speak of un worthiness, Phcebe.? I always 
 found you faithful in all things. 
 
 Phoebe. We all have our faults, and I have mine. I have not 
 always been what I seemed to be. 
 
 Betsey. You were always my ideal of perfection in your 
 sphere, Phoebe. 
 
 Phoebe. Our most cherished idols are often crushed in the dust. 
 
 Alice Along with the heart whose inspiration clothed them 
 with life and beauty. But what has been crushing your idols to 
 dust Phoebe.? 
 
 Phoebe. You could only hate me if I told you. 
 
 Enter Squire Carter L. ( His knocking not noticed.) 
 
 Squire. Only hate you if you told! Girl, have you been blab- 
 bing.? Have you.? If you have you will pay dearly for it. Go 
 home. You know you are not allowed to visit here. 
 
 Mrs. L. It is you Simon Carter who are forbidden to come 
 here. 
 
 Squire. By whom.? 
 
 Mrs. L. By the usages of society and the dictates of self-res- 
 pect which forbid a gentleman'' s entering where he knows his 
 presence is disagreeable. After the wrongs you have inflicted on 
 me how dare you enter my house. Leave it at once. Your pres- 
 ence is as loathsome as the foulest reptile. 
 
 Squire. Save yourself the trouble of racking your brains for 
 further hard words. It is not pleasant for me to be obliged to 
 enter your house. I am here only to bring home a disobedient 
 servant. 
 
 Betsey. And hear what she would say to us. But we know 
 enough about you already to consign you to a felon's cell. 
 
 Squire. Know what! What did you say.? Girl have you be- 
 trayed me.? Have you.? Come with me at once. {Seizes her^ 
 she screams for help) 
 
 Betsey. C oward, do you dare to lay hands on a woman.? 
 
 Phoebe. Save me, save me. I never will go with him again. 
 He will kill me. 
 
 Squire. Come on {Drags her forward) your tongue will learn 
 by-and-by to stop its wagging, or I'm mistaken. 
 
. ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 29 
 
 Enter ^. Mc. L. 
 
 y. Mc. Well really ah! Do 'yon want any help Mistah 
 Carter? Is she crazy ah? 
 
 Squire. Help! Crazy! No you lunatic. lean manage her 
 myself. She has just run away from her work. That's all. 
 
 Betsey. Save her, Mr. Hopkinson, from the hands of Squire 
 Carter. She has dared to assert her right to do as she pleases 
 and he threatens revenge. 
 
 Mrs. L. Mr. Hopkinson, protect us from Simon Carter, for 
 he fears that we may learn the secrets of his villainy. Phoebe is 
 no longer safe in his hands. 
 
 y. Mc. I am astonished ah ! Squiah Carter a villian ! 
 Squiah this is a free country. May be you had better keep your 
 hands off this young lady. 
 
 Squire. Mr. Hopkinson, I'm slandered, basely slandered. I 
 hope you will not interfere since I am merely claiming my just 
 rights. 
 
 Betsey. Rights! What right have you to say where any one 
 shall go in this free land? Mr. Hopkinson, please protect us and 
 I will be forever grateful. 
 
 y, Mc. Well it is really a pleasure to hear you say so. I will 
 serve you most willingly. I beg pardon Miss"^ Bluff, but I believe 
 the last time we met you preferred to have some one else as a 
 protector. 
 
 Betsey. (Aside.) Because he would act the dunce. (Aloud.) 
 I was just joking then and did not mean to slight you Mr. Hop- 
 kinson. You know we shall always be good friends. 
 
 y. Mc. Or\\yJriends! Is that all? I would rather we were 
 enemies than such friends. 
 
 Squire. Deuce take your palaver. Phoebe, come with me. 
 (Advances towards her.) 
 
 y. Mc. I really can't allow you to take this young lady with 
 my consent. 
 
 Squire. I shant ask your consent, nor anybody else's. (Ad- 
 vances.) 
 
 y. Mc. Look here Squiah. It is exceedingly unpleasant for 
 me to be obliged to hurt your feelings ah, but I shall have to do 
 so unless you modify your demands a little. The fact is you don't 
 take this girl until she is willing to go. 
 
 Squire. Mr. Hopkinson, it seems to me you are unreasonable. 
 But we have always been on good terms and I don't wish to quar- 
 rel with a friend about a trifle. I will just wait here until the girl 
 is ready to go. 
 
 Mrs. L. Mr. Carter, Phoebe shall remain here till she has 
 finished her visit and wishes to go. You can remain toi^ of course, 
 if you insist on it. But I hope you will excuse Alice and myself 
 from entertaining you. Phoebe, come to the. kitchen and we will 
 have a chat. (Exeunt Mrs. L. Alice and Phcebk R.) 
 
 Squire. (Aside.) Well I suppose I'll have to go without her. 
 
30 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 ni keep a close watch on this house though. {Exit L.) 
 
 y. Mc. Squiah Carter seems determined to have his own way 
 in this village, to run things in fact. 
 
 Betsey. Yes and he is not very particular about the means he 
 employs to run them either. He has succeeded in getting posses- 
 sion of all Mrs. Linton's property, and now he dares to come here 
 to this poor place to exercise his authority. 
 
 5^. Mc. This is a poor place. Miss Bluff, I should think you 
 would get tired of staying here. There can't be much mduce- 
 ment for remaining ah. 
 
 Betsey. No not much. {Aside.) And very little for leaving. 
 
 y. Mc. Miss Bluff, you aw sacrificing yourself by toiling liere 
 this way. You aw actually givin£r Mrs. Linton your services, 
 pon my veracity you aw. 
 
 Betsey. Mr Hopkinson I am not sacrificing myself by serving 
 those who befriended me when / needed assistance. I am not 
 giving Mrs. Linton my services. I one it all to her. 
 
 J.Mc. Ah! DeLt of gratitude. But really Miss Bluff, would 
 you not like ah to take charge of a house of your own ? 
 
 Betsey. ^Tb I believe not. I think it would be trouble enough 
 to help take charge of one. 
 
 y. Mc. Oh ! I meant to help. Of course you could not do it 
 all. Miss Bluff, will you be my bwide. I offeh you my hand and 
 heart. I admiah you so much. 
 
 Betsey Adtnire me do you! Just as you do a new necktie or 
 the latest style of coat, I suppose. When I marry a man I want 
 one who loves me. 
 
 y. Mc. Really Miss Bluff I love you. You know I meant 
 that at first. Will that be sufKcient? 
 
 Betsey. Mr. Hopkinson, I don't love you. I cannot even admire 
 you. I can respect you and tliat is all. 
 
 y. Mc. Is that all.? Well that is not as bad as it might be. 
 Could'ent we get along with respect.? Some married folks do not 
 have even that. 
 
 Betsey. Mr. Hopkinson I don't think I shall ever marry. My 
 mind is made up. Such a union as you speak of vNCuld lead to a 
 life of misery. 
 
 y. Mc. Could'ent you change your mind Miss Bluff.? 
 
 Betsey. Not without some reasons, and I don't see any reasons 
 just now. 
 
 y. Mc. If your mind is made up I shant insist Well I sup- 
 pose a girl is not to blame if i^he dontlike a fellah. {Aside.) Pon 
 honoh I believe some other fellah is to blame. {Aloud.) Miss 
 Bluff I presume you aw very busy to day, so I will bid you good 
 aftehnoon. 
 
 Betsey. Good day Mr. Hopkinson. (Exit]. Mc. L) Plague 
 take the dunce; he might have guessed how matters stood. May 
 be I am a bigger dunce than he is after all. I sent Lanty Nixon 
 away in fun and he left in earnest. Now Hopkinson is gone. 
 I guess Ini tC(p particular, "wit, money, and manners," dont 
 
 V ^ 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 31 
 
 often go together. What's the odds now ! It's decided anyway. 
 Enter Mrs. L., Phcebe, Alice, R. 
 
 Mrs. L. For " better or worse"? 
 
 Betsey. No. 
 
 Mrs. L. Are you acting wisely, Betsey.? Offers do not come 
 every day. 
 
 Betsey. Wisely or unwisely, I'd rather die an old maid than be 
 tied to that booby for life. 
 
 Alice. You may change your mind in a few more years. 
 Phoebe, I think I have guessed the cause of your despondency. 
 Are you thinking of " What might liave been".? 
 
 Phcebe. I am thinking of what might have been if I had not 
 fallen, miserably fallen. 
 
 Mrs. L. Phoebe, you surprise me. What is the matter.? What 
 have you done.? 
 
 Phoebe. I have wronged you so deeply that no repentance can 
 atone for the crime. Your suspicions in regard to your property 
 are correct. The Carters' claims were based on forgery and 
 falsehood. Mr. Linton never owed them a dollar. You have 
 been basely defrauded and I have been the means of enabling 
 them to execute their criminal purposes. 
 
 Mrs. L. Oh Phoebe! have you done this.? And we have 
 known you so long and trusted you. It is terrible. What have 
 you done to aid them.? 
 
 Phoebe. I have been their accomplice. I took the missing 
 papers, and Simon Carter forced them from me by threats of 
 imprisonment. I deserve reproach. I deserve to suffer for my 
 unpardonable guilt. Oh that I could atone for my crime by 
 some act of reparation in your behalf! I would walk through 
 fire to serve you. I'll be a slave no longer, and when the proper 
 time comes, you may trust in me. Then Simon Carter will find 
 to his sorrow that a despised servant can wield a power which he 
 dreams not of. 
 
 Mrs. L. Deluded girl, you are mad! What can you do to 
 prevent Simon Carter's unholy works.? It is too late now. 
 
 Phoebe. Too late! Alas I fear it is. {Musingly.) Why have 
 I not tried to do something sooner.? Miserable coward that I 
 am! It is not too late to die in the attempt. They are both 
 away to day and now is an opportunity which may not come soon 
 again, I'll try it. 
 
 Mrs. L. What do you mean Phoebe .? {Exit Phcebe hastily L.) 
 
 Alice. I believe the girl is crazy. 
 
 Mrs. L. It is the lunacy of despair. Her story is too probable 
 to admit of any doubt. And what a tale of villainy it is. For 
 gery and falsehoodl What I took for a lack of mercy in selling 
 our property, proves to be a lack of honesty. And the man whom 
 Mr. Linton trusted so implicitly is capable of robbing his benefac- 
 tor's wife and child! Horrible thought! I was warned in time 
 but would not heed the warning. Now it is forever too latel 
 
32 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 Betsey. I always despised the whole set anyway, for I believed 
 they were not trustworthy. Now {Knocking ivhich is unnoticed^ 
 Enter Simon Carter unnoticed.) the evidence is complete and 
 Simon Carter is a consummate villain. 
 
 Squire. Villain eh? Who dares say villain? Have a care how 
 you blacken my character. I thought you knew me Mrs. Linton? 
 
 Mrs. L. I thought so too Simon Carter, but I find I was mis- 
 taken, for each day adds something to my knowledge of you nd 
 your lawless transactions. 
 
 Squire. There is one thing you have not learned yet, and that 
 is the extent of my power. Tempt me no further. 
 
 Mrs. L. {With scorn.) T'ew// you no turther indeed ! As if 
 you had not already yielded yourselt fully to the wiles of the 
 tempter. You have accomplished your fiendish work of robbery 
 and cruel persecution. You h;ive done your work only too well. 
 Years ago people called you a villain. My husband and I disbe- 
 lieved them because we thought you a persecuted man. You 
 took advantage of his generosity to cheat him shameiully. Not 
 content with your ill-gotten booty, you set yourself to rob his 
 helpless family. You who was legally their protector. To accom- 
 plish your dark deeds you alienated our friends and strove to 
 blacken our fair name. You stole the patrimony which you were 
 sworn to protect. Ay stole it! Well might you blush with shame 
 if your hardened cheek were not stranger to a blush. 
 
 Squire. Mrs. Linton, you have said some hard things. You 
 may yet repent these hasty words. You may be called upon to 
 prove your assertions. 
 
 Mrs. L. Repent my words! Never! No words can portray 
 the depths of your infamy! Dare you ask for proofs? They 
 shall be produced. Simon Carter, I know at last from an eye- 
 witness, the secret of your cunning plot. Where are my hus- 
 band's lost papers which you so hypocritically pretended to be 
 searching for? Who has seen them since you forced them from 
 the trembling hands of a timid servant whom you threatened to 
 imprison if she did not give them up? Dare you answer that? 
 
 Squire. Mrs Linton this is all very fine but it is mere asser- 
 tion. I suppose that trembling servant is Phoebe Day, who has 
 been filling your ears with slander when she should have been 
 at home at work. I see through it all. It's conspiracy. That's 
 easily settled. 
 
 Mrs. L. Base wretch begone! You have succeeded in your 
 unhallowed schemes but you can not subdue a will determined to 
 oppose you to the last. You may crush, but you can not conquer. 
 There is a limit to all oppression and to all forbearance. 
 
 Squire. Who will believe a tattling servant and such as you? 
 
 Mrs.L. Oh bitter lot! Wronged, persecuted, and insulted 
 because of my wrongs! Has it indeed come to this? No lower 
 depth can be reached. Traitor I defy you. Begone! Wreak 
 vengance if you choose. You can no longer wound. 
 
 Squire. I shall not leave until you allow Phoebe to go with 
 me. But there is no hurry. If she stays, I stay. 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 83 
 
 Mrs. L. Until Phoebe goes! She has already gone. 
 
 Betsey. She has learned her lesson of cringing obedience well. 
 I'd just like to see the man who could rule me that way. 
 
 Squire. Mrs. Linton, where is that girl? I believe you are 
 plotting mischiff and have her concealed somewhere. 
 
 Alice. We have told jou she went some time ago. Is not 
 that sufficient.^ 
 
 Mrs. L. I know nothing more than you do of her wherabouts 
 and as for plotting mischief, what alas! can we do or plot now.? 
 
 Enter Phcebe, L ExciittdJy. 
 
 Squire. Can I believe my eyes.? Will you come here again? 
 What are you up to.? Phoebe, you must go with me at once and 
 no words about it. {Advances to seize herT) 
 
 Enter Nathan hastily., L. 
 
 Nathan. Flee from this house, uncle. The soldiers are home 
 and Harry and Lanty are on the way here now. Tabbs is with 
 them and has told them all. Flee at once for you are not safe 
 here. 
 
 Squire. Humph ! Is that all. 
 
 Mrs. L. At last thank God. 
 
 Alice. Where are they? 
 
 Betsey. When did they come.? 
 
 Nathan. Uncle be quick. They are almost here. 
 
 Squire. Silence coward ! You are unworthy the name of 
 Carter. '' 
 
 Nathan. Well I can't be responsible for your safety. 
 
 Squire. Pooh! They dare not lay hands on me. I have the 
 law on my side and they have not a line to prove Tabbs' story. 
 Let them come. -^ 
 
 Enter Harry, Lanty, Tabbs, L. 
 
 Harry. Very likely you will let them come. Alice' 
 Altce. Harry ! ( They embrace and kiss.) 
 
 Tabbs. We's jes in force a comin like de bugs on de cowcum- 
 ber wines. 
 
 t ■'^7\^\. ^^^ bless you Harry, back again safe and Tabbs 
 faithful old servant. (Shahe hands.) 
 
 Betsey. {Bushes into I^a^ty^s arms.) Why Lanty! The same 
 old Lanty Nixon. "^ 
 
 Lanty. Yes the same Lanty and" not very old yet, and I infer 
 irom your demonstrations that you are stil: Betsey Bluff 
 
 Betsey. Yes. 
 
 Enter L. Oscar Linton, iyitroduced by Harry. 
 Harry. Mrs. Linton, Colonel Oscar Linton. 
 
34 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 Mrs. L. Oscar Linton! Oh God! vay long lost son. {Rushes 
 into his arms.) 
 
 Oscar. Yes a prodigal son who fled from the best of mothers. 
 May Heaven forgive him. Alice, the little pet of my boyhood. 
 {They embrace) 
 
 Alice. Oscar ! Dear brother Oscar ! I always thought you would 
 return to us. 
 
 Tabbs. Wish dis mdividual could jump into somebody's arms 
 for two or three moments. But den de filosomer says man often 
 hugs a collusion. Goliy I kind o'think all huggin am a collusion 
 anyway. 
 
 Oscar. And Betsey Bluflf too, whom I have often led through 
 the deep snow drifts, on our way to school. {Shake hands.) 
 
 Nathan. Brother Oscar, w 11 you not recognize me? 
 
 Oscar. Do not call me brother. You never were my brother 
 and now I loathe your proflered friendship. 
 
 Squire. Loathe us then, son of a haughty race. We can en- 
 dure your scorn. Nathan let us go. Girl, {Turning to Phocbe.) 
 will you go.'* 
 
 Phoebe. Never ! 
 
 Oscar. What! Phoebe our old servant! {Shake hands.) 
 
 Phoebe. Yes, master Oscar, I am Phoebe. Heaven be praised 
 that you are spared to come back again to shield the helpless. 
 
 Squire. Be careful what you say girl. You have learned your 
 place, I think. {Exeunt Squire and Nathan L.) 
 
 Mrs. L. My darling boy, this is a joy unspeakable. But why 
 have you never written in all these years.? Seven long years 
 have pasf=;ed since the report of your death. Why have you been 
 silent when a word would have changed a mother's grief into 
 
 Oscar. I have not been silent. I suppose you heard of the 
 fatal accident in the mine, when my comrade Jerry White was 
 killed and several others fatally injured. But I wrote the particu- 
 lars to prevent anxiety at home, for I knew you would hear of 
 the accident through Jerry's Iriends. How ihey ever got me 
 among the killed is m.ore than I can tell, unless it was because I 
 left immediately after for other diggings. I could not bear to 
 stay where poor Jerry met his sad fate. 
 
 Mrs. L. Your letter never came. Why did you not write 
 again.'' 
 
 Oscar. I received no answer and my proud spirit construed 
 silence as an intentional slight. I left for California at bitter en- 
 mity with my father because I imagined he cared more for Nathan 
 than for me. We quarrelled and I vowed I would never return 
 until the family needed my services. It was a rash and wicked 
 vow which has resulted in nothing but sorrow to the dear ones at 
 home. I say dear ones, for I loved you all at heart and have re- 
 pented a thousand times of my folly. 
 
 Alice. Tell us how you happen to comeback with Harry and 
 Lanty, in an officer's uniform. 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 85 
 
 Oscar. That is soon told. When the war broke out I enlisted 
 as second lieutenant, and have been promoted step by step to a 
 colonelcy. I learned by accident a few months since that 
 there was a Capt. List in a regiment encamped near us. 
 Alice. A Capt. List! But I asked about Harry. 
 Lanty. Well, Capt. Harry List then. 
 Alice. What! You a Captain, Harry.? 
 
 Tabbs. Dat am a fac. D.is war am a gwine to hatch out a 
 a drefful sight of capens and ginerals. Dis individual will be a 
 gineral too if he was'ent in de wah. He'll not be Tabbs anymore. 
 Jest call him if you please Adjutant Sutler. 
 
 Laniy. I thougiit you were only assistant barber where we 
 found 3'ou, Tabbs. 
 
 Tabbs. See heah massa Nixon, when a gemman has done got 
 up in the world I think it is mighty small business to cast up to 
 him the misfortunate occurrences of his poorer days. 
 
 Mrs. L. Tabbs, you have not got up very high in the world 
 when you return to us. We have reached the bottom of the 
 scale. 
 
 Tabbs. Massa Oscar will make that scale tilt pretty lively tother 
 way some of these days, I tell you. 
 
 Harry. Things have changed since we left, and we never heard 
 of your distress. Why did'nt you write to us.^* We could have 
 helped you. 
 
 Alice. I concluded you would write to us when you wished to 
 hear from us. 
 
 Harry. I did write repeatedly. And you never got my letters.? 
 Alice. None after you left for the seat of war. 
 Harry. I wrote several. Receiving no reply I feared that my 
 letters were lost in the mails, and wrote at diftercnt times until I 
 was forced to conclude that for some reason you wished to con- 
 sider our engagem nt broken. 
 Alice. How strange, that all our letters were lost. 
 Oscar. That may not be very strange after all. Who was your 
 first Capt., Harry .? 
 
 Harry. Capt. Wilson. 
 
 Oscar. And Capt. Wilson was the instrument of Simon Car- 
 ter's machinations. Probably the Capt. could give you some in- 
 formation concerning those letters. 
 
 Harry. I see it all now. Squire Carter's remark about his 
 influence, the day I enlisted, is ciear as daylight now. 
 
 Oscar. A remark dropped by a brother officer of mine, who 
 was acquainted with the Capt. leads me at once to conclude that 
 your letters never left his tent when delivered there. The Capt. 
 is said to have quit the service under suspicious circumstances to 
 avoid a court-martial, owing to various irregularities. 
 
 Harry. How stupid I was not to think of that at the time. 
 Well I shant hunt up Capt. Wilson for information just yet, 
 especially since I have more important enquiries to make. Mrs. 
 Linton I have come back from the army safe, as you predicted I 
 
86 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 should. May I not ask now for the fulfilment of that promise 
 which you made three years ago, that Alice should be mine? 
 
 Mrs. L. Yes, if Alice has not changed her mind. 
 
 Harry. I thmk I know what her answer is. Am I right 
 Alice .^ 
 
 Alice. Yes dear Harry. Through all these years I have loved 
 and hoped on in silence. 
 
 Oscar. In silence through the criminal knavery of designing 
 men, who deserve to suffer severely for their crimes, so long un- 
 punished. 
 
 Mrs. L. By the mercy of Heaven the worst part of their black 
 plot has miscarried, and with loved ones around me again I feel 
 that half the sting of poverty is removed. To see you all once 
 more, strong and happy, is something I never dared to hope. 
 
 Harry. Lanty it strikes me you are rather still to niglit. A-e 
 you thinking about your next turn at picket duty, or about your 
 rations of hard tack and bacon.'' 
 
 Tabbs. Hard tack! Dat am lie reason of massa Lanty's sol- 
 emn aspec, dat hard attack he had de day fore he enlisted. Dat 
 enemy am still in de field. {Looks at Betsy^ 
 
 Betsey. Tabbs I see you still talk in riddles as you used to do. 
 But tell me all about your military career Mr. Nixon. I should 
 like to hear it. I know you would always acquit yourself like a 
 soldier. I'd be ashamed of you if you had not. 
 
 Lanty. Would you indeed.'' I am happy to hear that you 
 th nk I would not do anything unworthy of a soldier. 
 
 Tabbs. {Aside.) Massa Lanty am about to fight his battles 
 over again if de enemy don't surrender. 
 
 Mrs. L. Lanty, 1 knew you would be a true soldier, for you were 
 always a gentleman. 
 
 Betsey. And the gentleman is the true soldier. 
 
 Lanty. {Aside ) Now or never. {Aloud.) Miss Bluff, I think 
 it is about time this thing was understood. 
 
 Betsey. That what thing was understood, Mr. Nixon? 
 
 Lanty. Betsey, you know what I mean. I want — Miss Blufl' 
 it is about time — aiiem, ahem, I think — 
 
 Betsey. Well go on. How do I know what you think. 
 
 Lanty. It is about time for you to choose between me and that 
 Hopkmson. 
 
 Betsey, You haven't asked me to choose yet. 
 
 Lanty. Betsey, I've loved you for years. Will you be content 
 to settle down with me for life? Don't say no. 
 
 Betsey. I'm not going to say no; you could have had an an- 
 swer long ago if you had only had the courage to ask for it. 
 
 Tabbs. Three cheers for Massa Lanty. He has met de ene- 
 my and in de langwige of de philosomer, de victory am his. 
 Massa Nixon don t you feel cowsiderable better than when we met 
 Massa Hopkinson goin down de lane as we came up? 
 
 Lanty. No more of your nonsense Tabbs. 
 
 Harry. Allow me to congratulate you, Lanty, on your success 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. Slf 
 
 and jou Betsey on your choice. The events of the last few min- 
 utes would have driven away many a fit of your blues while in 
 camp, Lanty. 
 
 Lanty. I doubt that Harry. It seems to me your blues were 
 about as indigo-tinted as mine. Suppose I had asked before I 
 went to the war. 
 
 Tahbs. Reckon you'd mos likely never gone at all. 
 
 Lanty. That is possible too Tabbs. Suppose I had known my 
 fate, it would only have made the going harder, and then I might 
 have had to endure the painful reflection that Betsey was false, 
 if any letters had been missing. 
 
 Betsey. And I that you were false rather than bashful. Of 
 the two evils I prefer the latter, especially as Mr. Hopkinson did 
 not go to the war. 
 
 Lanty. See here Betsey we shall have a quarrel at once, if you 
 allude to that donkey again. 
 
 Tabbs. Mustn't quarrel yet. Plenty of time for discussin fam- 
 ily pivileges and judificatin differences of opinion after de honey- 
 moon am set. When a family settles down to business such 
 things have a reglar place in de orders ob de day as massa used 
 to say about de proceedins of de legislater. 
 
 Alice. That is often true Tabbs, though I hope the disposition 
 will be wanting in this instance. 
 
 Phoebe. " A word to the wise is sufficient," Betsey. 
 
 Betsey. Very true Phoebe, hut you must not be so despondent 
 amid this general rejoicing. 
 
 Tabbs. Speck de cause am Miss Phoebe's soger has'nt come 
 back from the wah yet. 
 
 Phoebe. No Tabbs. I am expecting no soldier. I have great- 
 er reason than that for despondency. 
 
 Alice. Why Phoebe ! You have not told us yet all you knew 
 about Squire Carter's defrauding us. 
 
 Phoebe. Will you protect me from the Carters if I tell ? 
 
 Oscar. ) 
 
 Harry. [■ That we will. Speak on. 
 
 Lanty. ) 
 
 Phoebe. You all remember that Mr. Linton's private papers 
 mysteriously disappeared after his death. 
 
 Oscar. Yes, I remember that you spoke of them, Harry. 
 
 Phoebe. I can tell you where those papers are. 
 
 Mrs. L. Indeed! Can you.? Too true, alas ! 
 
 Oscar. Where are the papers, Phoebe? Tell us all the partic- 
 ulars. Were they stolen? 
 
 Phoebe. In the changes which took place soon after Mr. Lin- 
 ton's death, his desk and papers were removed upstairs, while 
 some work was going on below. I took all the papers and books 
 from the desk to clean it. Looking over the different packages 
 as I took them out I noticed one marked ''valuable" — "notes, 
 contracts, &c." I foolishly feared that particular bunch might be 
 mislaid and placed it by itself upstairs on a shelf among some 
 
88 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 old books. Those books were carried off by Tabbs and thrown 
 carelessly in the garret. When I looked for the papers, I was 
 frightened to find they had disappeared. I could not find them 
 in the garret so I kept the mater to myself instead of telling you 
 as I should have done. When I learned the value of the miss- 
 ing papers at the time you were searching for them, an evil 
 thought came into my head lo keep them if I ever found them. 
 Some time alter I found them but told no one, for I had an idea 
 I could make money out of them. 
 
 Mrs. L. And you sold them to Squire Carter. If you wanted 
 money, why did you not come to me.? I would gladly have 
 given you money. 
 
 Phoebe. Judge not too harshly. I was not so wicked as I had 
 planned. Nathan Carter had noticed that I was frequently hunt- 
 ing for something, and the Lord only knows what put it into his 
 head to ask me it I did not know something about the missing 
 papers. My guilt betrayed me and I confessed all. Nathan said 
 the papers belonged to his uncle Simon as administrator of the 
 estate. He urged me to give him the papers for his uncle, but I 
 refused, for I never thought of giving them to anyone who might 
 use them to injure your interests in anyway. He said no more 
 about them then and left me. 
 
 Mrs. L. Why did you not bring them at once to me if you 
 mistrusted the Carters.? 
 
 Phcebe. You were awny from home that day. Besides I was 
 ashamed to c nfess my crime and the Carters gave me little time 
 to reflect, for that afternoon Squire Carter came over in hot haste 
 and demanded the papers as his. He threatened imprisonment 
 and prosecution if I refused. I was so Irightened that I gave 
 them to him on condition he would not tell any one what I had 
 done. 
 
 Betsey. Precious little danger of his telling anybody. 
 
 Phcebe. Afterwards he compelled me by threats to go and work 
 for him because he feared your influence. Since then he has 
 kept me like a slave, constantly in fear of his threats. 
 
 Oscar. Where are the papers now, Phoebe.? 
 
 Squire Carter rushes in followed by Nathan, L. 
 
 Squire. I forbid her to speak. {Steps forward threateningly.) 
 
 Oscar. {Steps fortvard.) Go on Phoebe, you are in no danger. 
 
 Phcebe. Simon Carter I am your slave no longer. I will no 
 longer remain silent when silence would cover up crime. Here 
 are the papers. {Hands them to Oscar.) They prove Squire 
 Carter's black and infamous crimes. Take them, and may 
 Heaven forgive me for my part in the dark business. 
 
 Mrs. L. Heaven can forgive all in this act of repentance, and 
 80 may we. 
 
 Oscar. The more because it makes reparation. Well do I 
 know that hand ! My father's private papers and a memorandum 
 
ODDS WITH THE ENEMY 89 
 
 of his accounts with Simon Carter. Phoebe, how did you regain 
 possession of them? 
 
 Squire. Those documents are stolen from my private records. 
 They are mine, and I will have them. {Steps fortvard threaten- 
 ingly.) 
 
 Oscar. Stand back. A civil tongue is a knave's best friend. 
 
 Harry. You have to deal with men now, instead of women. 
 
 Phoebe. Squire Carter keeps a strong iron box in his library. 
 That box is always carefully locked, and I've thought for a long 
 time that them papers were in it. One day he accidentally left 
 the key to the box on the table. I took an impression of it and 
 had another key made. I couldn't stand the pangs of my con- 
 science at the misery I had caused a bit longer. When he was 
 away to-day I opened the box and found the papers. Oh! I'm so 
 glad, Mrs. Linton, that you can forgive even me. 
 
 Squire. A cursed pretty blunder I've made. That is a bare- 
 faced theft. I'll have those papers. Oscar Linton, you are an 
 accessory to this theft; you will have to answer to that charge. 
 
 Oscar. So she is a thief, and I am no better. And who has 
 made himself the chief culprit by reaping all the benefits of her 
 crime.'' Answer that. You are not yet done with this, Simon 
 Carter. You shall suffer the heaviest penalties of the law. 
 
 Nathan. Give back the property, uncle. We are foiled. Those 
 fatal papers are our ruin. 
 
 Squire. Never! Never! They have the law, but I have the 
 money. We'll see who wins. Besides, I can't dispose of the prop- 
 erty better than in defending it. Try the law. Ha! ha! {Going.) 
 
 Harry. Pah! Tou talk of appealing to law, when you've vio- 
 lated the most sacred principles of law. Wretch ! {Exii'SQViKT£. L.) 
 
 Oscar. His bluster is only the bravado of a bad man in a bad 
 cause. 
 
 Alice. Can we recover our property.^ 
 
 Oscar. Our case is clear. No court will refuse us justice. 
 
 Nathan. Yes, your case is clear. My uncle Simon has com- 
 mitted a great crime But what is his sin compared with mine? 
 I have turned against those who loved me dearly. I have betrayed 
 a loving mother and an affectionate sister. " With the basest 
 ingratitude I have brought to want those who took me a poor 
 ragged outcast, and made of the wretched orphan a respetable and 
 intelligent member of society. I have proved a viper in the bosom 
 which cherished me. But as God is my judge, my crime began 
 because of my love for her whom I hoped to make my honored 
 bride. I loved her passionately, and hoped to make atonement 
 by restoring al 1 in common ownership. I failed miserably, and 
 have wrecked my own brilliant hopes of the future, and blasted 
 the happiness of others. Life has nohing more for me but to 
 drag out a despised existence. May God forgive me. I dare not 
 ask forgiveness of those I have so cruelly wronged. {Exit L.) 
 
 Alice. Poor Nathan! He has suftered enough already. I can 
 forgive him. 
 
40 
 
 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY 
 
 Mrs. L. Misguided, wretched boy. He is to be pitied. 
 
 Tabbs. {Aside.) Wonder if anybody will forgive dis chile for 
 bein run away? 
 
 Mrs, L. What bliss in this joyous reunion after the long dark 
 past. 
 
 Oscar. Mother, I have been a wayward son. I have deserted 
 a happy honie. I have brought sorrow to a kind mother and a 
 loving sister. Can you forgive me.? 
 
 Mrs. L. Dear boy, we have forgiven you a thousand times; 
 and now all is forgotten and again forgiven. 
 
 Oscar. Mother, sister, loved ones all, my heart swells with 
 joy when it feels itself once more entwined by the blessed ties of 
 home. 
 
 Alice. May we ever hold those ties sacred ! 
 
 Harry. Comrades of the camp and field, we have survived 
 the hardships of the march, and the dangers of the battle field. 
 But when we think of our stirring experiences and hair-breadth 
 escapes, may we ever remember that, with silent heroism, faithful 
 ones at home bravely battled for the right while the Odds were 
 WITH THE Enemy. 
 
 ARRANGEMENT OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 C. 
 
 Mrs. L. Oscar. 
 
 Harry. Alice. Betsey. Lanty. 
 
 R. Phocbe. Tabbs. L. 
 
 SLOW CURTAIN. 
 
INITIATING A GRANGER. 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 "Doc" Sawyer, "TipWiggs," 
 
 "Artist Jack," Imes Green, ) New boys to be 
 
 "Pony" Simpson, Mike Mullett, j initiated. 
 
 "Nestor" Briggs, "Dig" Wright, 
 
 Prof. Rattan, Dr. Needem, Billy Whistler, and two or three 
 others who may enter as "members." 
 
 OFFICERS. 
 
 Most Wonderful Cabbage-Head, "Doc" Sawyer; regalia, a huge 
 cornstalk wand, and a collar of cabbage leaves. 
 
 Knight of the Rake, "Artist Jack;" regalia, a hand rake. 
 
 Most Rustic Scribe, "Pony" Simpson ; regalia, a paper cap encircled 
 by a hay band; a huge turnip or beet on his table for a paper 
 weight. 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 The Most Rustic Scribe should present a seedy appearance. Imes 
 Green should represent a "Country Greenhorn." "Tip" personatesthe 
 fast young man. Any ordinary clothing will answer for the other 
 characters. 
 
 STAGE explanations. 
 
 R means right for the actor as he faces the audience; L left; 
 C center. 
 
INITIATING A GRANGER. 
 
 Scene, a studenfs room in an agricultural college. Bookshelves in the cor- 
 ner, R, containing a number of volu77ies. K^^ Grange'''' has been organ- 
 ized by the students, and two "fj-eshmen''^ are to be itiitiated. Eoofu ex- 
 hibits various regalia and fzirniture for the *■'■ Grange?'' A stand or 
 desk for presiding officer occupies C in rear. On this stand or desk, 
 at either side, is a vase or goblet containing a large carrot, beet or 
 other vegetable. At R is a table for M. R. S. On table is a large 
 turnip flattened for a paper holder. On the wall L C is the motto, 
 "Wild oats are a sure crop.''^ R C is the motto, "The early worm 
 catches the corn?'' Above these ?nottoes may be hung neat festoons of 
 wheat, oats, hay, etc., or turnip tops, a pumpkin vine, etc. A wash- 
 tub full of water, and an office stool in corner R. K. O. R. 
 has a chair by the door L. When the "Grange'^ is called to order ^ 
 the members take seats L and R. 
 
 Tip. [Looking around.) This must be decidely agricultural. It 
 looks like a granger's den, I think, though I never was in the country 
 but two or three times in my life. Blow me if I could tell young 
 turnips from cabbage plants now. But then the governor is going to 
 move into the country and I must have a little preliminary knowledge 
 so I can help with the garden and the lawn. How would I look in 
 the garden with a spade, the ace of spades for instance ? Ha ! ha ! 
 That is one implement of husbandry we know how to use. We are 
 not attending an agricultural school to no profit. {Knocking heard; 
 goes to door L.) 
 
 Enter Dig Wright. 
 
 Why how are you, Dig. I am ever so glad to see you. You seldom 
 leave your door at night. Conterminate your Latin ! Why don't you 
 let it go for once. Sit down. [Offers him chair.) 
 
 Dig. I have no time to tarry., I must finish my essay. 
 
 Tip. On the mythology of the Hindoos compared with the Niebel- 
 ungen Lied. Let the Hindoos go to grass. 
 
 Dig. Can't afford to do that for Prof. {Pronounced "Proff:'(, 
 might send me after them. 
 
44 INITIATING A GRANGER. 
 
 Tip. George Wright, you have well earned the title Dig. You 
 are a regular dig. There is no let up with you even when you know 
 Prof, is away for a day or two. You learned that on the farm I 
 suppose. 
 
 Dig. I believe I did Tip, and it's not a bad habit in my opinion. 
 
 Tip. No ; you are right, I wish I could work like you, but I can't. 
 It isn't in me. Sit down. ( Offers chair.) 
 
 Dig. Haven't time. 
 
 Tip. Of course you will come around to see the initiation. We 
 are going to induct Mike Mullett and Imes Green into the solemn 
 mysteries of our order. There will be fun, lots of it. 
 
 Dig. Especially if one of the faculty drops in. 
 
 Tip. Oh ! the Prof, who runs this dormitory will not be back till to- 
 morrow, and who cares for the monitor. We'll look out for him. 
 We've fooled him often enough, and we can do it again. Imes 
 is well worthy his patronymic. He's so green he never suspects 
 anything. He never heard of hazing and thinks our lodge is all 
 O. K. 
 
 Dig. Tip, I'm in a hurry and want to borrow your "Synonyms." 
 
 Tip. All right, here it is. {Reaches a book from shelf and hands 
 it to Dig.) Drop in for a few minutes at half-past eight. 
 
 Dig. I shan't come. Tip, you are a jolly fellow but you are too 
 fast. I don't propose to lecture you, but I wish you would not take 
 part in these silly proceedings or allow them in your room., 
 
 Tip. "A little nonsense now and then, 
 Is relished by the best of men." 
 
 Dig. Nonsense may do. But this is worse than nonsense. It is 
 wrong. When we engage in such folly we waste our own time and 
 encourage others to waste theirs by our example. Besides, it is not 
 right to ridicule in this way men who are honest in their opinions, even 
 if they are apparently objects of ridicule. 
 
 Tip. Now Dig, don't come it too strong in the high moral line all 
 at once, just because some of us wish a little fun. We can't work 
 always. 
 
 Dig. I am not coming it strong all at once. We have been carry- 
 ing things a little too far for a good while and I've made up my mind 
 that I'll have no more of it. 
 
 Tip. By we I suppose you mean me chiefly. 
 
 Dig. No ; I don't mean you alone. I mean the boys of the North 
 Domitory of whom I am one. That motto {Points to " Wild oats are 
 a sure crop.^'') is a fling at morality. 
 
 Tip. That's true, isn't it? How can truth be a fling at morality? 
 
 Dig. Aye; wild oats are a sure crop but what is the harvest; and 
 what is the market ? 
 
 Tip. Oh well ! it isn't harvest time yet. We shall have a high 
 old time to night. It will all come out right some time. 
 
 Dig. Sooner than you expect may be. {Exit L.) 
 
 Tip. He is a queer chap. You might as well try to turn a trade 
 wind as him. {Knocking L. Tip opens door.\ 
 
INITIATING A GRANGER. 40 
 
 Enter Artist Jack and Billy Whistler. 
 
 Good evening, gentlemen. 
 
 Jack. I 
 
 Billy, f Good evening Tip. How are you ? 
 
 Tip. I'm first rate. Take seats. How do you like our decorations ? 
 Very appropriate are they not ? 
 
 Jack. Very. Especially that one. {^Points to " Wild oats are a 
 sure crop.''^) 
 
 Enter Doc SAWYER, PoNY Simpson, Nestor Briggs, 
 and others. 
 
 Doc. We didn't wait to knock. 
 
 Tip. All right ! My latch string's always out. 
 
 Pony. [Looking around.) Boys, I think these tasty decorations 
 and regalia do credit to our committee. 
 
 Jack. Just what I was saying, 
 
 Billy. Green and Mullett will think they are at a country fair. 
 
 Tip. And zvish they were there before it's all over. 
 
 Nestor. Tip, what on earth is that tub for ? Are you going to throw 
 a tub to the granger whale ? 
 
 Tip. That's it exactly ! Nothing like foresight in the agricultural 
 pursuits. That's one of my ideas. We have the whale, of course we 
 must save the blubber. That originated in my brain. 
 
 Jack. The blubber? 
 
 Tip. Ha ! ha ! You're getting witty, but just wait awhile to see 
 my idea applied. 
 
 Ponv. The Latin Tutor would like to know that Tip has an idea 
 for once. 
 
 Tip. I fancy this one would relax his classic features. 
 
 Billy. Boys it's time to come to order isn't it ? The candidates 
 axe tired waiting may be. 
 
 Nestor. Guess Mullett is suspicious. You'll neverget him into any- 
 thing worth doing, Tip. 
 
 Tip. We'll see. 
 
 Doc. [M. W. C.) Let's begin at once boys. [Ascends stand.) 
 
 M. W. C. {Raps on desk with his gavel, a potato on a stick.) Order! 
 [In a solemn tone.) Huckleberry Grange will come to order. The 
 officers will take their accustomed places and proceed in the discharge 
 of their duties. Sir Knight, make proclamation. 
 
 K. O. P. [Advances, speaks ift a pompous tone.) Hear, ye 
 tillers of the soil, ye horny-handed sons of toil, ye sturdy-muscled, 
 double-fisted, brawny-minded delvers after truth and low prices, 
 behold the hour is at hand when Huckleberry Grange should open. 
 [Opens door L and shows in Mike Mullett and Imes Green.) 
 
 M. W. C. [In a solemn tone.) I now declare Huckleberry Grange 
 formally opened in regular session. I shall on this occasion dispense 
 with the momentous incipient observations which under our Constitu- 
 
4t INITIATING A GRANGER. 
 
 tion the Most Wonderful Cabbage-Head has the prerogative to dissemi- 
 ate. {/n an oratorical style.) Let me only say that we should all be 
 prodigal in felicitating ourselves that we live in this hyperbolical 
 nineteenth century ; located as it were right between jeopardy and 
 the millenium; a century which has reverberated, and will continue 
 to reverberate if you let her alone, with an accruing concatenation of 
 inferential extrications. I may say without tergiversation that hetero- 
 geneosity is bound hand and foot to the expatiatory car of incontrover- 
 tibility while the triumphant charioteer urges on his' prancing oxen 
 toward the inexorable goal of indivisibility, and an excrutiating public 
 shout till the welkin jingles "Universal suffrage, cheap calico and hot flap- 
 jacks for all." I challenge the factory Lord to controvert what I have 
 said. I defy the Middleman or any other man to invalidate my process 
 of" ratiocination. They can't do it. Let them try it and let them be- 
 ware when the people, I say the people {^A voice : We heard it.'\ — 
 when the people rise in their majesty to ^it down on their pocket books. 
 Still notwithstanding, I say, nevertheless — 
 
 Nestor. I thought you were going to adjourn your remarks. 
 
 M. W. C. [Severely.) Order! We fervently hope that no Brother 
 will interrupt the solemnities of this occasion and cast a blot over the 
 proceedings. 
 
 Tip. {Rising.) Most Wonderful Cabbage-Head, it's more than a 
 blot. It's a blight, a wilting blight. We should all be duly impressed 
 with the serious importance of the imposing and expressive 
 ceremonies about to take place this "initiation night." It is my 
 sincere hope that we may do no discredit to our Brotherhood which 
 is doing so much to give dignity and importance to rural toil. All 
 honor to the noble institution of which we are proud to consider our- 
 selves members. May she continue to teach farming as long as the 
 scythe is the emblem of Father Time's presence. May she soon elevate 
 the task of tickling the sides of mother earth, till she grins, into a re- 
 fined and delicate art. In the halcyon days to come the manipulation 
 of the hoe will indicate a taste as refined and artistic as that which 
 guides the brush of the painter or the chisel of the engraver. It is 
 commg to that. I know it. I see with the eye of a prophet. \^A 
 voice : And hear with the ear of the animal the prophet rode.'] 
 
 M. W. C. {Severely.) Order! order! The Most Rustic Scribe 
 will now read the minutes of the previous meeting. 
 
 Tip. Most Wonderful Cabbage-Head, I move that we dispense 
 with the reading of the minutes. 
 
 Nestor. I second that motion. 
 
 M. W. C. Are there any remarks ? 
 
 Several. Question ! 
 
 M. W. C. All in favor will say aye. {Chorus of ayes.) Those op- 
 posed say no. {One or two noes.) The ayes have it and the reading 
 of the minutes will be dispensed with. The next thing in order is 
 "Words of wisdom from those who ought to know." The Most 
 Rustic Scribe will call the roll and the members will respond with a 
 sentiment. Of course our candidates will be excused from this part 
 of the programme. 
 
INITIATING A GRANGER. 47 
 
 M. J^. S. {Reads.) Tip Wiggs ! 
 
 Tip. {Rises.) Our parental ancestors studied agricultural farming 
 by a life-time of laborious experiments in their shirt sleeves. {Laugh- 
 ter.) 77/^ywere in their shirt sleeves, not the experiments. We 
 study the science of the soil in fifty easy lessons and are not much the 
 worse for the wear. Who says this isn't an age of progress ? Our 
 forefathers and foremothers never feasted their eyes on a scene like this. 
 {Applause.) 
 
 M. R. S. Knight of the Rake ! 
 
 K. O. R. Learn wisdom from the Possum. A little pretense goes 
 a long way. ^ 
 
 M. R. S. Nestor Briggs ! 
 Nestor. " Late to work and early to quit 
 
 Is the motto of him who lives by his wit ; 
 Spice hard work with a little rest 
 Is the motto of him whose work is best ; 
 To work not at all is just as well 
 Is the easy creed of the pert young swell ; 
 Early to work and never get through 
 Is the miser's maxim. Which is true ? 
 [^ voice: Now ive should have the Granger's motto. 'X 
 M. R. S. Billy Whistler! -• 
 
 Billy. {Rises.) I'll give the Granger's motto. 
 Philandengookenoben nixandabit ; 
 Pater habet. Mullein sauce. {Laughter^ 
 Tip. A Latin verse for dignified sentiment ! 
 Billy. Latin ! That's a Greek strophe. 
 
 Nestor. A trophy I should think, such as Samson slew the Philis- 
 tines with. 
 
 Billy. Ha! ha! Pretty good Nestor, but your logic's lame. My 
 verse isn t the ordinary >w. It's only the>zc/ breaker. So look out 
 for ;j/(7Mr verses. {Laughter.) 
 
 M W. C. {Severelv.) Order! Order at once! The candidates 
 for honors will now retire under charge of the Knight of the Rake as 
 is tne custom until certain preliminary rites necessary to their initiation 
 have been performed. {Exeunt L, Mike Mullett and Imes Green 
 escorted by K. O. R. As soon as they have passed out the others brim 
 forward the stool which is placed in the C and covered with a cloth for 
 a throne. The tub of water is placed in front of the stool and covered 
 with strong boards for a footstool. Over the boards are Placed 
 carpet.) -^ 
 
 M. W C. The Knight of the Rake whose title indicates the duties 
 of his office, and signifies "We will gather them in," will now pro- 
 ceed to inform the candidate for the first honor, namely, Good-Fellow- 
 
 ""! f ^f 'A ^^ '"J^'f y ^"^^^^^ ^^"^- (^' ^- ^- Soes to door L and 
 speaks to those outside.) ' 
 
 Enter K. O. R. escorting Mike Mullett, ceremoniously, 
 Mike. Boys, I've been to college before and know something about 
 
48 INITIATING A GRANGER. 
 
 what is expected of a freshman. I'm in for fun of course, but don't 
 make it too strong. 
 
 M. W. C. I am astonished to my full capacity to think that the 
 gentleman candidate would insinuate that there is any fun about the 
 zz^z/t-jz/zcw of this solemn rite, so imposing in its nature. {Sole??mly.) 
 We will now take the first step in this significant ceremony and drain 
 the memorial cup of good-fellowship with the Granger's favorite beve- 
 rage, cider. ''^ {Pours from a pitcher in goblets and hands around, to 
 candidate last.) The candidate will now remove his right boot. 
 
 Mike. What for? 
 
 M. W. C. At once if you please. (Mike sits down and removes 
 boot.) The object of this simple ceremony is to remind the candidate 
 of the uncertainty of human affairs. Many a spreading thistle fringes 
 the path of life, and when we least expect it we may put a foot in it. 
 The candidate will now mount the throne, which ceremony indicates 
 that the rural toiler is indeed a monarch. {Aside.) Of all some other man 
 has surveyed. {Steps upon the tub and assists the candidate to t?iou7it 
 the stool.) With one more simple rite we can salute you as Brother 
 and Good-Fellow at Large. 
 
 Mike. I wouldn't care if I was at large now. 
 
 M. W. C. The candidate will please preserve a dignified silence as 
 becometh his position. I now veil thine eyes, oh waiting one, {Band- 
 ages his eyes.) to illustrate the solemn fact that the farmer must plow 
 and sow, and reap and mow, and buy his yankee-notions by faith, that he 
 must occasionally trust to the uncertainties of the syren middleman. 
 I now ring in thine ears the tocsin of alarm to remind thee that the 
 canker-worm may gnaw and the grasshopper pipe his festive lay and 
 it behooves the Granger to be ever vigilant. {Rings bell. While he 
 is ringing the boys remove the boards and substitute others sawed 
 nearly through.) I now present thee the parting pledge and pronounce 
 thee a Good-Fellow-at-Large. {Gives him a cup of soap suds. The 
 *^ Candidate'''' tastes and ju77ips up with an exclamation. Breaks into 
 the tub of water and makes a great splashing. All laugh.) 
 
 Alike. {Springing from tub and tearing bandage from his eyes.) 
 Thunder and blue blazes! What was that I drank? {Coughs and 
 sputters.) That confounded tub had water in it, eh. How, the Dickens 
 did I break through ? What was in that cider ? 
 
 Tip. That's decidedly good to call soapsuds cider. {Laughs 
 uproariously^ 
 
 Mike. Soapsuds by jingo! {Spits.) 
 
 Dr. Needem rushes in wildly L. 
 
 Dr. That's right boys ! Give him soapsuds ! A sure antidote. 
 Make him swallow another glassful while I get an emetic ready. ( Tears 
 open his pill bags and begins to prepare f?iedicines. Sees tub.) Had 
 him in the bath ! Couldn't have done better if working under orders. 
 Keep him in. Keep his feet hot before the poison gets the mastery. 
 
 * Cold coffee or tea will serve for the "cider." 
 
INITIATING A GRANGER. 49 
 
 How much did he swallow ? ( The boys, who have stared in a7nazeinent^ 
 " see the joke''' here and begin to carry out the Doctor's ^r^^?-^ byputtino- 
 the ''patient" in the"- bath'^ again. y^iY.^ resists energetically.) 
 
 Dr. {Earnestly.) Stick to him boys. Merciful Heavens he 
 resists ! He is delirious ! What if I should lose my first patient \ 
 Lord knows I have waited long enough for some fellow to swallow 
 poison or break his leg or do something of the kind ! ( The boys strug- 
 gle to get Mike into the tub. ) Keep him in a minute longer. Give him 
 more soap and water. (Dr. seizes the glass of soapy water and attempts 
 to pour it down Mike's throat. Mike throzas up his hand and spills 
 the water in Dr.' s face.) My Lord! gentlemen. He's mad ! raving. 
 He'll be before his judge in less than tsn minutes unless we do 
 something. 
 
 Mike. I hope He'll be a more merciful judge than this crowd is. 
 Dr. Hold him gentlemen. He raves. I'll try the stomach pump. 
 {Bustles around and produces ptwip. f ) 
 
 Tip. All right doctor ! Be quick, {Dr. approaches with pzcmp. 
 '^\K.^ flitigs off those who hold him, and rushes at the T^R.) 
 
 Mike. {With fury.) Se6 here old fellow, this thing has gone 
 about far enough. You bring that nasty old pump near me and I'll 
 knock your ugly apothecaries' mug off your shoulders. 
 
 Dr. Seize him somebody. He will escape in his delirium. 
 Mike. I'd like to seethe one that would seize me now. Fun is fun 
 and I can enjoy a joke as well as anybody. But this is what I call a 
 dry joke. 
 
 Tip. Not for the want of water then. 
 
 Dr. {Stares; he plunges his hand into the water.) Good Heavens I 
 You have had him in a r^/^/bath ! He'll die sure. 
 
 Mike. I've had enough of initiation anyway, but I guess it'll not 
 kill me. 
 
 Dr. {As the truth dazuns on him.) Initiation! {Looks arotmd.) 
 What mean these mystic symbols ? Do I dream or is this a horrible 
 nightmare ? Isn't this No. 42 South Dormitory ? I've been victim- 
 ized. 
 
 Tip. No ; this is 27 North Dormitory. 
 
 Dr. {With feeling.) Oh I'm undone ! I'm a ruined man ! I'm 
 eternally disgraced ! Where is the South Dormitory ? Oh my patient ! 
 He is dead before this. I know he is. Where is he ? Do tell me. 
 Nestor. How in thunder can we tell zohere he is if he's dead. 
 (Dr. seizes his pill bags and rushes out, leaving his stomach pump on the 
 table.) 
 
 Tip. {Picks tip the pump. ) Just the thing; may be the next candidate 
 will need this. I call this enjoying an initiation. 
 
 Mike. Mighty fine fun ! My pants are entirely ruined. 
 M. R. S. What's a pair of pants ? 
 
 M. W. C. Nothing ! Let's go on with the ceremony. The Knight 
 of the Rake will escort the other candidate into the room. ( The boys 
 carry the tub back to R and a7'range the room.) 
 
 _ t If a stomach pump can not be obtained, a syringe will answer the purpose, or 
 an instrument m?^y be improvised from some old tubing, etc., which will look suffi- 
 ciently like a pump. 
 
60 INITIATING A GRANGER. 
 
 Enter Imes Green Z, escorted by K. O. R. 
 
 M. W. C. The candidate will advance to the front, ( Imes shuffles 
 up to the stand awkwardly with K. O. R. at his side.) Oh candidate, 
 [Solemnly.) you are about to become a member of the Verdant Cir- 
 cle of the Anti-Climax Society. Have you duly considered the mo- 
 mentous importance of the step you are about to take ? The answer is : 
 [Speaks fast.) " I have cogitated it with multifarious cogitations of a 
 concentric hebdomadal conscience. 
 
 Imes. ( Blunders. ) I hav e agitated it with — with — multiplied aggra- 
 vations of a chronic conscience. I can't say that. 
 
 M. W. C. You mean it, I see, and that will do equally well. 
 
 Tip. [Beckons to M. IV. C.) Shall I apply the test ? 
 
 M. IV. C. It seems unnecessary in this case, but then it will certainly 
 do no harm. Will the society have the test ? 
 
 Several. Let's have it. 
 
 Tip. [Advances with stomach pump. Speaks in a mysteriotu 
 manner.) Worthy brother, in thy response hast thou told the whole 
 truth, all the truth, and nothing but the truth? Far be it from me to 
 doubt, but our Brotherhood has a test which never fails to penetrate the 
 depths of a man's consciousness. It will lay bare that which is hidden 
 in the twinkling of an eye. It will reveal the most profound secret, 
 even to what a person had for dinner. 
 
 Imes. Mercy on me! I told the truth. What is that thing any way? 
 
 Tip. It's a cardiac, gastronomic, extenso-flexor. It never fails. 
 Was there any mental reservation ? 
 
 Ii7ies. Any what ? 
 
 Tip. Ah ! I see there was. This will tell. All that is necessary 
 is to place this tube to the mouth and work this handle and the most 
 stubborn are moved, as if by an earthquake, whether they will or not. 
 [Makes feint of applying the pianp.) 
 
 Imes. Don't! [Drops on his knees.) Don't for Heaven's sake! I 
 told the truth. I told all I know. I'll swear to it if you want me to, but 
 don't try that awful thing. Let me swear. [Alltiy to restrain laughter.) 
 
 M. W. C. [Sternly.) No profanitv here if you please young man. 
 Rise and we will proceed with the ceremony. ( The boys tiow place the 
 tub of water on a chair or box of sufficient height that Imes may stoop 
 over it without hendiiig too low.) Worthy Brother, we now complete 
 this ceremony by observing the symbolic custom of "bobbing for the 
 apple." Our mother Eve was very fond of this emblem of wisdom and 
 implanted a like desire in many of her posterity. This simple ceremony 
 commemorates that famous historical event and also typifies the fact so 
 important to the Granger, that apples are often hard to get but that 
 patience and a constant eye to the end in view will do wonders. As 
 Eve did not obtain the apple until some one showed her how, so we 
 deem it proper that the novice should see before he is asked to believe. 
 Will the Knight of the Rake perform this touching ceremony, as only 
 his artistic skill knows how ? 
 
 [K. O. R. pj'oduces two apples, one of which has a short tvooden peg 
 driveit into it. The one containing the peg he places in the wafer. 
 
INITIATING A GRANGER. 61 
 
 He places a strong wooden stick across the top of the tub at the side 
 farthest from him, and placing his hands some distance apart on the stick 
 proceeds to " bof for the apple, or try to takeit frojji the water with his 
 teeth. After several feints he succeeds in seizing the peg betweeti his 
 teeth and lifts the apple triumphantly. While he is engaged in 
 this Prof. Rattan slips in L unobserved, and squats behind a 
 large arm chair. ^ 
 
 M. W. C. {Places the other apple iit the water and turns to the can- 
 didate.) Worthy Brother, you will now complete your initiation by 
 performing this simple though significant rite. ( While he is speaking 
 Tip slyly removes the stick and replaces it with one sawed nearly in two. 
 Imes places his hands on the stick and stoops to seize the apple. The 
 stick breaks and he plunges headlong into the water with a great splash, 
 yumps up, coughs, and blows through his nostrils.) 
 
 Imes. Gewhillikers ! how did I slip ? [All roar with laughter.) 
 By George, that's a deep tub. 
 
 Tip. What made you dive for the apple ? Ha ! ha ! {All laugh 
 uproariously.) 
 
 Prof. Rattan. {yu?fips up; speaks in severe totie.) What do you 
 mean, gentlemen, by making night hideous in this way ? 
 
 Pony. Good Lord ! It's Prof. Rattan. {Dives out of the door L. 
 Others attetript to follow but are headed off by Prof.) 
 
 Prof. What are you doing, I say ? I demand an explanation. 
 
 Tip. Well, Professor, we were just having a little fun when that 
 accident happened. 
 
 Prof An accident, indeed ! Aha ! I am here by accident too. 
 I'll finish your mz/z«/Z(?;z. I will. There is one ceremony to be per- 
 formed yet and that is the laying on of the rattan. I'll teach you how to 
 play tricks. {Rushes at the boys; all escape L but TiP. Vrof. seizes 
 him and plies the rattan amidst cries of "Doh*t! ooh ! stop that t 
 etc:') 
 
 QUICK CURTAIN. 
 
SETH GREENBACK. 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 Seth Greenback, Lark, 
 
 Dr. Esty, Grubber, 
 
 Frank, Mrs. Geeenback, 
 
 Pat Muldawn, Millie Winfield, 
 
 Sligh, Mollik. 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 Any clothing suited to the social standing of the wearer. 
 
 STAGE DIRECTIONS. 
 
 R naeans right as the actor faces the audience ; L, left; C, centre* 
 
SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 -A.CT I. 
 
 Scene, Seth Greenback' s sitting room. Ftirnittire mostly old fash- 
 ioned and incongj'uotis, fiirnishing evidences of decided peculiarities 
 in the owner. Table in C, sofa Z., chairs R and L ; heavy pictures 
 on the ivalls, one, the portrait of a beautiful boy, over table C\ is 
 draped lightly m mourning. General effect is sombre, but conveys 
 the impression of wealth and intellige^ice. 
 
 Pat. {Pacing floor.) Howly saints! was iver a man wrought as 
 I'm wrought? Faith an' not a bit longer will I sarve ould Greenback, 
 or my name is not Pat Muldawn. 
 
 Millie. [Entering R.) What's the matter now, Pat? You are get- 
 ting into a pet nearly every day with Mr. Greenback lately, 
 
 Pat. An' it's your precious self that's a ]^et, Millie, shwate rosebud. 
 
 Millie. Pat, you're silly; I'm nobody's pet. 
 
 Pat. Faith an' ye desarve to be, an' I'll pet ye meself if nobody 
 else will. 
 
 Millie. Balderdash ! Pat, you have too much blarney. I reckon 
 I'll get along as I have been doin'. 
 
 Pat. As ye have been doin' ! An' how's that? Haven't ye been 
 rulin' th'S house almost intirely. Not but what ye should, lor ould 
 Greenback is a mean ould tyrant. But how ye manage him is more 
 than I can tell. I niver was anybody's pet, exceptin' one man, an' that 
 was very unfortunate. 
 
 Millie. Ha! Ha! He was unfortunate in selectin' his favorites, I 
 s'pose? 
 
 P^. Shure it was meself that was unfortunate in the selection. 
 For he kept borryin' me hard earnin's that I saved, and niver a blissed 
 cint of me wages did he pay me at all. 
 
 Millie. Why, Pat, how coulJ you loan him your hard earnin's if 
 he never paid you any money? 
 
 Pat. Faith, an' I lint him cash in hand that he should have paid 
 me, hut never did. He gave me some quare little slips of paper he 
 called due bills. 
 
 Millie, And they are still due bills. 
 
56 SETII GREENBACK. 
 
 Pat. Ay, and we'l named, for I'm thinkin' they will never be /«zV 
 bills, for the poor gintleman died and bequeathed all his lial!ilities to 
 an ungi-ateful father, an' by nie suwl theould gintleman intirely refused 
 the legacy. 
 
 Millie. So for want of anything better you concluded to try Mr. 
 Greenback's. 
 
 Pat. Y s, out of neccssi'y. Now if there is any vartue in larnin* 
 temperate ways, and practicin' self denial, you see I'm makin'a varLue 
 of necessity. 
 
 Millie. Mr. Greenback must be mighty virtuous if he can make 
 virtues out of the necessities of other folks. 
 
 Pat. Ay, the ould skinflint. He's a paragon of vir'ue. He's above 
 timptation. You might as well try to get a war-whoop out of a tobaccy 
 sign by callin' him bad names, as to try to tempt the ould miser from 
 his beaten paths. 
 
 Millie. I wish his appetite would tempt him to get us somethin' fit 
 to eat, I'm nearly starved. 
 
 Pat. True, Millie, an' ye be. Ye're gettin' thin and maigre like. 
 {Pinches her cheek and attempts to kiss her.) 
 
 Enter INIrs. G. R. 
 
 Millie {Slaps his ears.) Keep your distance, you blockhead! 
 ( Turns away angrily >f 
 
 Mrs. G Dear me ! Pat, such conduct is very improper. I can't 
 allow it. 
 
 Pat. ( To Mrs. G.) Troth an' I think so too, to be nappin' a fel- 
 low's noggin in that style. ( To Millie.) Me distance you want me 
 to kape, is it? Faith, an' 1 think I'll kape it a trifle further away from 
 ye. {Rubs his face.) 
 
 Mrs. G. Pat, you should be in the field at this time of day. This 
 is the very rush of the harvest. (Millie busies herself arranging 
 hooks on table.) 
 
 Pat. Is It indade, mam? {Aside.) It was always me bad luck to 
 be unlucky. 
 
 Mrs. G. Pat, you prefer talking to the girls rather than pitching 
 hay. Doubtless it's pleasanter, but it don't suit folks who have to hire 
 help to have them employed in that way. 
 
 Pat. Indade, mam! {Aside.) Begorrah, I can't snatch a minute 
 wi h the girrels but some spal|-een's yelpn', Pat! work! 
 
 Mrs. G. Pat, you had better go before Mr. Greenback comes in. 
 He won't like it to see you here. 
 
 Pat. I'm off at onct, mam. {Exit Mrs. G. L>, 
 
 Millie. {Angrily.) Pat, don't you dare touch me again, you great, 
 impudent booby. What will Mrs. Greenback think? If you do that 
 again I'll break your Irish pate. {Slaps him agai7i.) 
 
 Pat. {Comically.) May I look at ye iver again? 
 
 Millie. Sass-box ! 
 
 Pat. {Rubs his face) Millie, just keep your pet names and your 
 carisses for some one else, won't ye? I never could stand such things 
 onyhow. They turn me head entirely. {Aside.) An' that last turned 
 
SETH GREENBACK. 57 
 
 me body too. {Aloud.) Kape all your purty sayin's for master Frank. 
 Poor boy, he neecLs a dale of sympaiby. 
 
 Millie. {Seating herself R of tabic.) Pat, you're a dunce. Frank 
 does not nejd pretty sayin's as much as he needs kind treatment and 
 good friends. 
 
 Pat. {Stands behind chair L of table, puis one foot on chair round 
 and leans right elbow on chair back., head resting on hand in an easy 
 attitude.) Now ye've hit it to a t. But he'll have one cjood friend as 
 long as Pat Muldawn"s got a shilling, and I'm thinkin' he'll have 
 an ther while yerself is to the fore. 
 
 Millie. {Slightly confused.) Yes, Pat, we must stand by him, for 
 he has no other friends in the world except Mrs. Greenback, and she 
 is afear'd to speak a word in his favor. 
 
 Pat. It's a ragin' shame the way that ould tyrant does bate him. 
 
 Millie. {Starting violently .) Oh, Pat, has he whipped Frank again? 
 ( Walks the floor in great agitation ) 
 
 Pat. He began it, but he never finished the dirty job, for I heerd 
 the racket and was in the barn immagitly, and I'm thinkin' me remarks 
 on that occasion were more i onvincin' than illegant. 
 
 Millie. I hope you didn't insult him, Pat He's awful squeamish 
 about such things, and it would only be worse for Frank. 
 
 Pat. Niver an insult did I give him. Says I but I'll not repeat 
 
 all I said. Says I, " Mr. Greenback, just drop that ould horsewhip, or 
 I'll b- afther bieakin' ivery bone in your body." 
 
 Millie. The old fiend ! 
 
 Pat. An' says he, " Pat, you're in a passion." Says I, "Shure an' 
 I am. It makes me very blood boil with shame to see you strike that 
 poor crayture who would now be nearly a grown man if ye hadn't 
 starved his poor life out of him." He turned dreadful rid in the face, 
 and I seed, I'd raised a breeze an' must stop the rumpus s me way. 
 Says I, " An' it's all about an oukl shovel handle not worth a dime. 
 Mr. Greenback, you know I'm perfectly willin' to make a new handle 
 durin' me leisure, and not charge ye a cint." An' says he, " All right, 
 Pat; but be careful you don't say stmiething sometime that you will 
 always regrit." As he went out I wondered whether h'j iver regretted 
 anything he iver did, or iver did anything a dacint man wouldn't regrit. 
 
 Millie. {Indignantly) The disgrace! To think of his strikin' 
 poor Frank like a slave. But he da'sn't strike him when I'm around. 
 I'd like to see him strike me onct, if he dares. 
 
 Pat. Shure and what would he think if he should be after strikin' 
 you? 
 
 Millie. Think ! I wouldn't give him time to think. 
 
 Pat. He'd be after thinkin' he'd mowed mto a hornet's nest. 
 
 Millie. Well, if I seen such meanness goin' on I could be as spite- 
 ful as a hornet without half tryin'. (/« her excitement knocks a small 
 vase from the table and breaks it.) 
 
 Pat. Faith an' I I elieve it. 
 
 Millie. Shut up, you monkey! I mustn't let the old man see this. 
 {Picks up pieces of vase.) Frank is too good. He actually likes Mr. 
 Greenback ; says he was good to him, and furnished him a home when 
 
$8 SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 he had none. A precious home, to be a galley slave for a mean pit- 
 tance of clothing and coarse food. I'd as lief go to the poor house for 
 my part. And Frank thinks that old Greenback is generous. You 
 know he gave Frank an old gold wa ch. Heaven only knows what 
 made him do such a recklessly extravagant thing. I s'pose he couldn't 
 get rid of the watch any other way. But he must have been beside 
 himself when he gave it away. 
 
 Pat. He wasn't beside himself. He was beside the boy. I seed 
 him when he gave it. He handed it to Frank, and says he, " Frank, 
 here's a watch you may have. I had a boy once. He would have 
 been about your age now, if Providence h id not taken him from me." 
 An' would you belave it, Millie, he actually shid tears, an' Frank 
 cried like a five year old spalpeen; an' says he, "Oh, Mr. Greenback, 
 you've been very good to me, ind I've been awkward, and careless, 
 and ungrateful." An' Mr. Greenback says, says he, " Niver mmd, 
 Frank, I haven t done much for y u." An' he left the room so kind o' 
 sudden I couldn't help feeUn' sorry for him, for it was one of his awful 
 blue days, when he looks so worn an' sad lookin'. Thin I thought of 
 the day he rapped me over the head for breakin' a wheelborry, and 
 called me a green Irishman. An' I restrained me tears, and rekivered 
 me manhood immagitly. {Straightens up and tries to look dignified ) 
 
 MilLe. So you call that manly to hide your tears when your sympa- 
 thies were excited. Pah! such manhood, Patrick! Smiles may be 
 counterfeit, but tears mean something. 
 
 Pat. Shure an' it's meself can t'.-stify to that, for didn't me tears 
 have a dale of meanin' when ye pulled my hair and pounded me nog- 
 gin, because I said you were the purtiesl girrel in the county, an' I hat 
 your rosy lips were spilin' for a kiss, which I was ready to administer. 
 I'm a man of me worred, an' I'm willin' yet to do that same. {Seats 
 himself, and leans across the table toward Millie.) 
 
 Millie. When you get an opportunity, ha! ha! {Rising, begins to 
 dust and arrange the roovi ) 
 
 Enter Frank P. 
 
 Frank. Have you curried the horses yet, Pat? You know Mr. 
 Greenback is in a hurry to start to town, and we must get to work at 
 the hay. There's not a minute to lose. 
 
 Pat Shure M ster Frank, an' ye's in a great hurry. The hay will 
 not he dry for an hour. Take it aisy a bit. 
 
 Frank. Take time by the forelock, Pat. 
 
 Pat. Be jabers, an' if ye take him by the forelock too early in the 
 mornin' ye must howld him all day. Frank, ye are larnin' the ways of 
 Mr. Greenback very fast. Faith an' ye are as anxious about the hay 
 as the ould miser himself. What interest have ye in the hay? It 
 doesn't pay us to fret about the farmin'. The master will attend to 
 that. 
 
 Millie. He will let nothing suffer for want of fussin' over. 
 
 Frank. It pays to do right, Pat. Mr. Greenback depends on us 
 to lead in the field. If we don't get out the teams in time, will the other 
 men follow ? 
 
SETtt GREENBACK. Ij^ 
 
 Pai. Shrire! an' are we the main depindence? If I'm the boss itf 
 flic master's absence, I'll get the worth ot the money out of them laiy 
 Spalpeens. [Rises— sticks his thu7?ibs in arm-holes of his vest and 
 straightens up with an air of importance^, Faith an' the idlin' r'ascals 
 wouldn t aim their salt if it wasn't for a drivin' boy like meself to lead 
 (nem. 
 
 Frank. You must have been born to lead, Patrick. 
 
 Pat. An' ye be flatterin' now. May I inquire the grounds of your 
 opmion? ^ ^ ^ 
 
 Frank. Because it is hard to get you to follow. 
 
 Enter Greenback Z. All start in surprise. 
 
 G. I think he'll follow me. It's confounded queer that servants 
 can't get to work without being watched. I sent you after Pat an hour 
 ago, Frank. What have you been doing? Spending your time here 
 gossiping; keepmg Millie from the work she should have finished long 
 ago. I've a notion to shake you. {Pat behind him shaking his fists 
 at h:in ) ^ •' 
 
 Millie. {Aside. ) The old crocodile ! 
 ^ G. A half dozen men around, and not one on hand when you want 
 him. Here I've had to hitch up myself, when I'm in a desperate 
 hurry. And you lazy louts are gossiping with the girls. 
 
 Prank. Mr. Greenback, I couldn't find Pat. I went to the barn 
 to call him, but — 
 
 G. No excuse for idleness. Oh ! you will all be the death of me 
 yet! {Fidgets nervously.) 
 
 Pat. (Aside.) Amin to that remark. 
 
 G. {Furwuslv.) Why do you stand here gaping like a lot of 
 idiots, (iet to work at once everyone of you. {Exeunt Fat and 
 Frank Z, Millie rujts out R. In her hurry drops a piece of the 
 vase. ) 
 
 G. {Calling L.) Pat! Pat! {Enter Vkt.) Put the ponies in the 
 stable. I'm not going to-day. It's too late, curse it ! 
 
 Pat. Shure an' if ye plaze it's only a trifle beyant nine. 
 
 G. I said it was too late. Did you hear? Put the ponies in the 
 stable, and get to the hayneld at once. 
 
 Pat. Yis, sur, immagitly. {Aside.) If not sooner. {Gotng L. 
 Aside.) Begorrah, an' the ould man has one of his tantrums to-dav. 
 {Exit Z.) ^ 
 
 G. { Walking the floor in agitation. Sees piece of vase and picks 
 it up.) Whit's this? {Musingly.) The work of a careless servant. 
 So much money thrown away! Mrs. Greenback will have such things. 
 Talks of art and its refining influences. Weil, I thought so once too, 
 Tiut I should like to see the art that can refine this household. My 
 life is like that vase, once fair, now in ruins. Why didn't I go? I 
 ca-i't stay here. Oh, what can quiet the scorpion-like stings of remorse ! 
 They gnaw my very heart strings, and turn my home into a hell, in 
 which I am the presiding demon. The delirious starts of a morbid 
 conscience prey with keener tooth because no penitence comes to soothe 
 H»e hideous wound. No, there is no repentence for the miser. Miserl 
 
6o SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 did I say? How that odious word once made my ears tingle with 
 shame, when first I heard it flung at me in bitter taunt. Oh, God, how 
 I've changed! I'm no longer the same man. 'Tis well I bear a new 
 name, the badge of my dishonor, wliich, partly blazoning my character, 
 better liides my former self. My eye no longer sees the mocking leer, nor 
 hears my ear the scornful gibe. My evers faculty, hke my soul, slum- 
 bers to all Init baser, grosser objects Men despise, and righteously 
 too, the hated miser. But the r contempt is only a tithe of that which 
 I wouKl heap mountains liigh upon my o\tn debased self. But why 
 despise the creature of our own making? Deliberately I so d myself 
 for gold. 1 signed and sealed the contract, and daily pay to Mammon 
 his hateful interest, cent per cent. Worse shame, I sought to exalt 
 and enrich my own flesh and blood at the expense of a father's dis- 
 honor. An incensed deity rebuked my idolatry, and took from me my 
 precious child, but left me the curse. '1 hat will never depart. I am 
 doomed and damned forever. 
 
 Enter R Mrs. Greenback. 
 
 Mrs. G. Seth, I thought you had gone to the city this morning. 
 What has caused this sudden change of mind ? I saw the ponies at 
 the door a moment ago. 
 
 G. Ask me no questions. Have you nothing better to do than waste 
 your time and mine with idle questions? 
 
 Mrs. G. Seth, your despondent moods have grown more frequent 
 lately. You must not give way to them. They bode no good to your 
 peace of mind. 
 
 G. {Savagely) Peace of mind ! Dare you speak again of peace 
 of mind? True, I have no peace, but my mind will hold its sway 
 while life remains I have been a fool, but I never will be a madman, 
 even to please you. 
 
 Mrs. G. To please me! Seth, how fa:« you speak so? Is it pos- 
 sible that you think your own wife can find pleasure in your distress. 
 Your troubles are my troubles; your grief is my grief ; your joy my 
 joy. Would that your love were mine as mine is yours. It would 
 make a better man of you, 
 
 G. Mary, cease your wretched prating about love. Once we loved 
 with as strong and holy affection as human beings can know. But that 
 is past. Stony indifference has taken its place. We are not the same; 
 {With feeling.') God knows we are not. Our love lies sleeping in 
 the silent tomb, and it were hollow mockery to fan those cold ashes, 
 hoping to start the sacred fl me. 
 
 Mrs. G. Seth, I own your words are sadly true when you speak of 
 icy indifference. Whatever else may fail let us still cling to truth and 
 candor. Do you doubt me now, when I solemnly assure you that my 
 love has sprung into new life, and that I still love you devotedly? 
 
 G. Doubt your word? No. But I do doubt the existence of the 
 feeling that you speak of. You deceive yourself. Remember that we 
 agreed together years ago that our early love was dead. Was not that 
 a fair understanding ? And do you now censure me for accepting your 
 own statements ? No, we are like two neighboring mountain peaks. 
 
SETH GREENBACK. 6i 
 
 linked together yet distinct and silent, nothing to each other but near 
 neighbors. 
 
 Mrs. G. Seth, you deceive yourself; 'tis not I. Since the sad time 
 of which you speak, my h)ve has been born again and strengthened by 
 sorrow. It is stronger, deeper, and holier to-day than was the plighted 
 laith of the young girl at the altar years ago. {Beseeching/y puts her 
 hand on his shoulder.) Seth, do you still doubt? Can you yet return 
 my love? 
 
 G. Never! Can a stone feel grateful because it is set in a corner? 
 Mary, you have wasted your love on a wretch who cannot return it, on 
 ai half-man whose better nature has perished, and whose baser parts 
 run riot in the ruins. Your revelation only adds tenfold to my misery, 
 because I deserve no love, and despise to owe anybody. 
 
 Mrs. G. Cease your avaricious ways, and be a man again, is all I 
 ask. 
 
 G. All you ask! Woman, are you mad? What greater request 
 could you ask of me? 
 
 Airs. G. At least make restitution to those you have wronged. 
 Have your brother Will and his family no claims upon you? Must he- 
 be forever wronged ? 
 
 G. Wronged! And who brought his wrongs upon him? Can he 
 not blame his own shameless dissipation and wickedness? 
 
 Mrs. G. But he is a man now, and we have reason to believe a bet- 
 ter man. Seth, to repair the wrong you have done him will make a 
 better man of you. Justice demands it. 
 
 G. A belter man of me ! I am a bad man. But it is hard to be 
 taunted about one's crimes by those who have counseled their perpe- 
 tration. Woman, {^Pointing at her.) my life has rested under one long, 
 baleful curse, and you have not laid a finger to the lightening of that 
 curse. I do not complain, but I speak plain truth. Did you not advise 
 me to retain Will's money, and to stand silent when his enemies drove 
 him to the wall? 
 
 Mrs G. I did. I am willing to bear my full burden of shame. 
 But can we not yet atone for our crime, partly, at least? I have a 
 thousand times regretted our wicked course and its shameful conse- 
 quences. 
 
 G. Wife, it is too late. The deed is done. You wished station in 
 society, I desired wealth and influence for the sake of my darling boy. 
 Where is your station, and where is my influence? Ha! ha! we have 
 a name, 'tis true. I bear the name that was always on my tongue, and 
 among strangers we cany the synonym of our ruling passion. Is it bet- 
 ter than the one we dishonored in our native land? 
 
 Mrs. G. [Pleadingly:) Oh, Seth, it is not too late. It is never 
 too late to repent ot sin, and turn to righteousness. Don't continue to 
 harden your heart,- ; Remember our lost Frank. We saved for him. 
 He is taken from us. Let us devote our wealth to the good of others. 
 Can it be that you still await his return? [Turns toward 7vaU point' 
 ing to the picture of the young boy.) Vain hope ! Sad hope ! 
 
 G. I do not expect the grave to give up its ill-gotten gains. He is 
 gone forever. 
 
-62 SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 Mrs. G. Then why not do justice ? His angel cheeks {Still point- 
 ing to the picture.') would blush with crimson dye could he know whM: 
 has been done in his name, and what has not been undone. Has the 
 remembrance of him no power yet lo bless? 
 
 G. None! 'I he worship of Mammon has fretted his sweet image 
 into a mocking phantom, to taunt me in my dreams. The gold hoarded 
 for him has cursed me, though we meant it to bless him. But it shall 
 curse no other soul. No one shall have a penny of it till 1 die. They 
 •call me Old Greenback, a skinflint and a miser, and I shall remain so. 
 You speak of repentance. You will be the better for it, and 1 will be 
 the worse by contrast. I am past repentance, or the power to feel any 
 of the finer emotions of the human soul. 
 
 Mrs. G. If not for Will's sake, think of his wife and child, and 
 when you think of nis child remember your own Frank. 
 
 G. I have ever remembered him with gall in my heart. His fate 
 was cruder than death. He received no mercy, and I will show none. 
 
 Airs. G. Hard and unmerciful. ( Turns away toward H.) 
 
 G. 'Tis useless to plead. 
 
 Mrs. G. (As'ide.) A madman in truth. Lost to every sense of 
 honor. {Exit H.) 
 
 G. Mary's conscience, after a long sleep, is aroused at last. {Paces 
 fioor^ She will no longer allow me a moment's peace until I make 
 full restitution. No longer will we be in sympathy, and the last link 
 which binds me to the past and to my fellows, is severed. Her words 
 are the voice of truth, I know I should be a belter man Reason 
 remains to me in full vigor, but Avarice, the master, nods imperiously 
 to her helpless slave, and laioral faculties are sunk in helpless imbe- 
 cility. Why was our family doomed? A fond father and mother 
 would turn in their graves if they knew the fate cf their promising 
 sons {Enter Pat nnobserved^ Z.), one a miser, a by-word and a 
 reproach among his fellow-men; the other a prodigal, a reveler, a 
 gaml)ler, a criminal. A criminal! dreadful thought! but what am I, 
 too, but a criminal ? Perhaps it was riphl to withhold his patrimony 
 when he knew not how to save it. At least it was prudent. But what 
 was it to retain it when he plead for his rights? Cri7iie ; a foul wrong 
 against which a youthful brother and his starving wife and babe have 
 plead in vain. Oh, God of justice, let me be a man again ! 1 swear 
 \o'Y\i^^ {Drops on Jus knees.) — No, I'll not swear. 1 dare not. In 
 the years long gone, before my manhood ceased to struggle with my 
 baser self, I have resolved again and again, and broken all my resolu- 
 tions. I'll not swear. {Rises.) It would only sink me <leeper in the 
 ominous shades which are surely closing over me. It is useless to 
 struggle ; all is lost, lost ! {Exit R.\ 
 
 Pat. Shure an' here's a pretty rivalation. The ould chap's been 
 chatin' his kinfolk, bad luck to him. He says he wont SM'ear. I'm 
 thinkin' swearin' would be a refreshin' vartue after such thricks as hi§. 
 {Enter MlLLlE R.) After all he seemed awful sorry like. 
 
 Millie. Pat, what are you talking to yourself about ? 
 
 Pat. The vartues of the master. 
 
 Millie. I did not know he had any to discuss. 
 
SETH GREENBACK. 6;; 
 
 Pat. Slxure, Millie, an' there's a good streak in his character after 
 all. You know he gets the dumps, and feels sorry like, an' he can be 
 ginerous, too, when he tries. 
 
 Millie. Yes, if it's generous to give choice wines to strangers, and 
 feed the family on crusts and old bones. 
 
 I^ai. Divil take me if I don'i think the master's a dissicted puzzle, 
 anyway. He got put together wrong. (Frank calls Pat L.) I'm 
 comin', sir, directly in haste, as soon as I get a jug of water for the 
 t>oys. {Exii Pat L Millie R.) 
 
 Curtain. 
 
 J^OT II- 
 
 ]ScENE, saffie as Act I. Frank assisting Millie to arrange the fur- 
 niture. Millie dusting the room. 
 
 Millie. Frank, you are down in the mouth about something. 
 What's the matter? 
 
 Frank. I've been thinking. 
 ^Millie. What are you thinking about, Frank? 
 
 Frank. About you, Mdhe. 
 
 Millie. {Starts slightly, and turns to hide her blushes) About 
 me. That's odd. 
 
 Frank. I was thinking '^vhat a good friend you have been to me, 
 and wondering why you should befriend such an unpromising specimen 
 as myself. 
 
 Millie. I've learned one thing, and that is, that it aint always prom- 
 isin' people that does most. 
 
 Frank. And you think that mel^be I'll do something because I 
 don"t promise. Well, I'm sure I don't know what I can ever do. 
 Somehow I've been awful m lucky. When them fellows stole me 
 away from home Ihey did the business for me. I haint got on the 
 .track just right yet. 
 
 Millie. And you never will while you stay here. Why don't you 
 run away. It's a shame for you to work so hard for nothing. Pat and 
 me get our pay, but you get nothin', only ill usage, 1 wouldn't stand it. 
 
 Frank. If it hadn't been for you and Pat I believe I'd died long 
 ago. But ril never run away. Please don't mention that again. I 
 won't sneak off like a thief or a coward. Mr. Greenback took me in 
 when I was a little thing, not able to earn much, and I'm gomg to re- 
 pay him. 
 
 Millie. You've already repaid him a hundred fold. 
 
 Frank, This is my home, the only place in the world where any- 
 body cares anything for me, and I'm going to stay here. Mrs, 
 
64 SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 Greenback is kinder now than she used to be. Mr. Greenback wants 
 to be kind too if he could. 
 
 Millte. But he's so mean he can't. 
 
 Frank. Don't say that, Millie. You don't know how he feels. 
 Sometimes he looks so careworn and wishful, like he'd lost some- 
 thing, and acts so queer that you'd nearly cry to see him. I pity him, 
 for 1 know someihing awful's happened him sometime. He shows it. 
 
 Millie. That's when his tenants don't pay the rent. 
 
 Frank. No, it ain't that, neither. It's some grief. He talks to 
 himself, and goes on awfully. That is, he used to more than now, 
 when I came here, ten years ago. I believe Mr. Greenback wants to 
 be good, and knows that he ought. 
 
 Millie. Of course he knows it. He's no fool. Ten years ! What 
 a long time. I've been here six, but if it wasn't that Greenback is 
 good pay, I wouldn't stay another day. 
 
 Enter Pat R. 
 
 Pat. Faith, an' I'm thinkin' ye has a different raison intirely. 
 
 Millie. What's that? 
 
 Pat. Shure an' Master Frank is here, to say nothin' of the other 
 attractions. (Aside.) Be jabers, an' I'm here meself. 
 
 Millie. Other attractions ! Fiddlesticks. Yourself, I s'pose! 
 
 Pat. Meself! Howly prophets! I've been called by a good 
 many names in my time, some of them illegant and some of them not, 
 but I niver was called by such a convanient title as fiddlesticks. Faith, 
 an' its appropriate too, for I'll not die with all my music in me. ( Whis- 
 tles ''Put M alloy.'") 
 
 Millie. Pat, you're a fool. 
 
 Pat. Begorrah, an' I have it now. Ye called me fiddlesticks, not 
 because of my music, though that is very shwate and inlicin', but 
 because I'm always getting into scrapes. 
 
 Frank. Hist ! You'll get into another soon. Mr. Greenback is 
 coming. 
 
 Millie. Goodness sake ! {Runs out R, Pat and Frank follozv- 
 ing.) 
 
 Enter Greenback L, carrying a quilt zvhich he throivs on sofa., L. 
 
 G { Calls savagely.) Pat ! Frank ! come back ! ( T/iey turn toward 
 him.) What are you doing here you Inzy louts ? Can't I go away 
 from home for an hour without coming back and finding you loafing 
 around the house? Be off at once, both of you. {They start 
 R.) Hold on, Pat. Bring in a basket of early harvests which I 
 brought from the orchard. They're at the gate. They are beauties. 
 No finer fruit in this country than my orchard produces. Hurry up, 
 Pat. 
 
 Pat. ' All right, sir. {Exit Z.) 
 
 Enter Mrs. G. R, 
 Mrs. G. Where have you been, Seth? 
 
SETH GREENBACK. €J5 
 
 G. Down at Bums's. Crops are looking splendid. The wheat 
 shocks are thicker than I ever saw them before, I think. If the rain 
 don't spoil them. 
 
 Mrs. G. Never mind the rain. We shall have plenty anyway. 
 G. There's a great risk in fanning. There's either too much rain 
 or none. 
 
 Mrs. G. Even Providence can't please a grumbler. 
 G. I'm not grumbling, Mrs. G., I'm thankful. 
 Mrs. G. If the potatoes hadn't failed. 
 
 G. I came through the big orchard coming back. The trees are 
 bending with apples. I brought up a basketful. The first ripe brought 
 a dollar a bushel. The market is glutted now, and I'm afraid we'll 
 have to use them ourselves. It's a pity though. They are too nice to 
 use at home. Here's Pat now. {Enter Pat Z, with basket of golden 
 apples:) Beauties aren't they, Mary ? {Places basket on chair L of 
 table.) 
 
 Mrs. G. Very fine, Seth ! Can't we have some for dinner? 
 G. I suppose so. One apiece will be sufficient, will it not ? They 
 are large you see. 
 
 M7S. G. They are not the choicest. {Holds one up.) You sold 
 the best. Besides we want some for pies. 
 
 G. Pies I Pies! Pies are expensive ; besides they are not whole- 
 some. Doctors will all tell you that. 
 
 Pat. {Aside.) Doctors be hanged for such haythenish advice. 
 Mrs. G. Selh Greenback, what's the use of starving your family 
 when bushels of fruit are rotting under the trees, and you can't sell it. 
 I won't be scrimped to death any longer. 
 G. I think prices will rise. 
 
 Pat. {Aside) Such financeerin* strikes me dumb with admiration. 
 Mrs. G. I'm going to live if prices do rise. 
 
 G. Well, you may use theie anyway. Pat, I grow the best apples 
 in the country. These have a splendid flavor. Try them. 
 
 Pat. Thank ye, an' I will. {Takes an apple from the basket. Is 
 about to bite it.) 
 
 G. Wait a minute, Pat. Too much raw fruit is not safe at this sea- 
 son. You know they have the cholera in the city. Let's divide. 
 ( Takes the apple from Pat, cuts of a small slice and hands it to Pat 
 on the kmfe. ) What a flavor they have ! 
 
 Pat. Don't you think, sir, I'd better only smell the knife? I'm 
 afeerd of the cholera. 
 
 Mrs. G. Pat, you deserve another slice for that. {Laughs.) 
 G. Pat, you are too much of a wag ever to succeed in this world. 
 Pat. Faith, then I'm thinkin' I'll take the praste's advice and keep 
 a close eye to the nixt, where I'll take a fresh start, may be in better 
 company. {Takes the apple.) 
 
 G. Pat, an empty stomach makes a clear head. 
 Pat. {Aside.) An' a fat pocket-book makes a lean sowl. (Green- 
 back cuts a small slice for Mrs. G., one for himself, and places 
 the remainder of the apple in the basket. Attention of Mrs. G, if 
 attracted to the quilt.) 
 
66 SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 Mrs. G» I declare if Millie hasn't brought a quilt in here and left 
 it. I never knew her to be so careless before. {Picks up quilL) No, 
 that is not ours. How could it have come here ? 
 
 G. I got it at Burns's. 
 
 Mrs. G. The one the Sewing Society gave them last winter 
 {Holding it up.) Did you dare to take that ? 
 
 G. There was nothing else to take. 
 
 Mrs. G. Then I'd do without the rent forever before I'd take away 
 the bed of a poor invalid woman. 
 
 Pat. {Aside.) Be jabers, he only took the kiver. 
 
 G. I'll teach him to go off and work for Jones when he owes me. 
 
 Mrs. G. Have you no conscience? 
 
 G. If you please, Mrs. Greenback, we will say nothing about con- 
 science. 
 
 Pat. Faith, Missus an' I can explain that, beggin' your pardon. 
 Your husband's conscience is ashlape, an' he wanted a quilt to tuck it 
 up in. 
 
 G. Get out, you Irish vagabond, or I'll crack your rattle head for 
 you. {Rushes at Pat, who exits R.) Mary, {Lfiperiously.) take out 
 these apples and that quilt. 
 
 Mrs. G. { Takes up qtiilt and basket. Aside. ^ What shall I do ? 
 I dare not return it. {Exit R.) 
 
 Knocking heard L. Mr. G. goes to door. Enter Grubber, Esty, 
 and Sligh. 
 
 Grubber. Good morning, Mr. Greenback. 
 
 G. Good morning, Mr Grubber. I'm glad to see you. Walk in. 
 
 Grubber. {Introduces Esty and Sligh.) Dr. Esty, Mr. Green- 
 back. Mr. Sligh, Mr. Greenback. 
 
 G. {Shakes hands with them.) Very glad to see you, gentlemen. 
 Take seats. {Places seats. EsTY and Sligh seated L C. Green- 
 back and Grubber R C.) 
 
 Grubber. These gentlemen are out from town takin' a little rest. 
 They're stoppin' at our house. They thought your grounds looked so 
 snug that they would like to come up and see them. I 'low they don't 
 see no nicer in these parts. 
 
 Esty. Very fine location, indeed. 
 
 Sligh. And improved with great taste. 
 
 G. {Pleased.) We don't make pretensions to taste, but we have 
 taken some pains to fix up a little. {During- this scene Sligh watches 
 Greenback closely^ -while taking his part in the conversation.) 
 
 Grubber. Did it all himself too. Beatinest man in the world for 
 plannin'. Greenback, you ought to spend a little money on these 
 grounds. Why don't you bring water from that big spring over on the 
 hillside, and make a fountain and a duck pond, and have some swans 
 and notions like them 'ere city chaps does. I reckon they'd fix it up 
 mighty slick. 
 
 G. That would cost too much. Can't afford such things when 
 times are so dreadful close. 
 
SETH GREENBACK. 67 
 
 Esty. (Rises to look at pictures. Gazes at picture of the boy. 
 Is observed doiii^ so by Sligh. Aside.) I think he's in advance of 
 the times in closeness. 
 
 Slig/i. And then it would look artificial after all. Nothing like 
 rural simplicity, you know, as the poets say. 
 
 Grubber, Waal, I reckon you can find enough rural simplicity in 
 this country outside the yard. 
 
 G. Quite true. Grubber. Excuse me, gentlemen, a moment. {Goes 
 
 to door R. Calls MiLLiE.) I'll have you try a little wine, gentlemen. 
 
 I think you will pronounce it good for home made. (Millie «//^arj 
 
 at the door R.) Millie, tell Frank 10 bring some wine and fruit at once. 
 
 Millie. Yes, sir. 
 
 G. Gentlemen, we have a splendid view of the river in the distance 
 from the piazza. Have a look at it? 
 
 Esty. Certainly ! ( Exeunt EsTY ^ waTGRUBBER LJoIlowingGK^mi- 
 BACK. Sligh remains.) 
 
 Sligh. I'm interested in something else more than in the river 
 just now. By George, it must be him. {Gazing at picture of boy) 
 That's the boy sure as guns! {Looks around the room.) He has 
 money yet too. May be this discovery will pan out something for 
 somebody. I'll draw the old chap out a little. He's sharp to change 
 his name and put on the air of an eccentric old fish. {Re-enter Green- 
 back, Esty and Grubber.) 
 
 Esty. Why didn't you go out and look at the view ? It's splendid. 
 
 Sligh. I saw it as we came in. 
 
 Esty. (7<? Greenback.) As you remarked, you make your own 
 wine, Mr. Greenback. A good idea. You know then what it's made 
 of; I suppose it's cheaper too ? 
 
 G. Yes, much cheaper. I can't afford imported wine often. 
 
 Sligh. Where did you learn the art of v^ine making, Mr. Green- 
 back, if I may be so inquisitive ? 
 
 G. I picked it up myself. 
 
 Grubber. As he does everything else. 
 
 Esty. {Aside.) That doesn't belong to him by right. 
 
 Grubber. I'll tell you what, Greenback is a genius. 
 
 Sligh. Beg pardon ! I thought you might have learned the business 
 somewhere in the wine regions. Judging from appearances, though, I 
 suppose you've always lived here. {Eyes him for answer.) 
 
 G. No ; {Hesitating) I came out here from the East. 
 
 Sligh. From Pennsylvany, I should say. 
 
 G. No, not exactly. 
 
 Esty. You can tell from Mr. Greenback's speech that he is not 
 from Pennsylvania. It sounds veiy much like our dialect where I was 
 brought up, down in York State. 
 
 G. {Nervously.) In what respect? 
 
 Grubber. There's right smart difference in people's lingo, but dang 
 me if I could ever tell purcisely where a man came from by his gab. 
 
 Esty. I can generally guess pretty closely. (Greenback looks un- 
 easy.) I should say that you came from Rockrib county, New York, 
 Mr. Greenback. 
 
68 SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 G. (Ukfast/y.) In fact I did come from that region. 
 
 S/I^A. (Aside.) The very same, I'd bet my head. Wonder if Esty 
 suspects him. {Enter Frank R, bearing a tray containing a pitcher 
 of watery a bottle of wine, and a plate of apples. Sets the tray on the 
 tabU. Enter Pat R) 
 
 Pat. Mr. Greenback, shall we saw up the balance of the wood now, 
 or go down and repair the fince fornmst Jones's pasture? 
 
 G. Repair the fence first, Patrick. (Frank, iii wiping the dust 
 from the bottle., knocks off a goblet y which is broken.) What are you 
 doing, you awkward numskull? I'll teach you to break things that 
 way. {Fltes at Frank in a passion, and siezes him by the collar. Is 
 about to strike him.) You'll ruin me yet with your awkwardness. 
 
 Pat. {Steps forward indignantly. Draics back to strike GREEN- 
 BACK. All jump up excitedly. Grubber seizes Pat.) Hands off, 
 Mr. Greenback, or 111 break your ould pate. Shure an' I've seen that 
 boy abused too long alridy. I've parsevered in kapia silence, but be 
 jabers parsaverance has caised to be a vartue. This is more than 
 human flesh and bones can stand. 
 
 Esty. {Aside.) He's a brute out and out. 
 
 G. Pat, do you dare to insult me here? 
 
 Pat. Ay, if you dare touch that boy. 
 
 Grubber. Gentlemen, don't get excited. Greenback, let the boy 
 go ; it was an accident. 
 
 Esty. He feels badly enough about it, too. He's a good, faithful 
 boy, or I'm badly mistaken. 
 
 Pat. Faith, an' we were both kind o' hasty like. I'll make the 
 price of that all right out of my nixt month's wages. 
 
 Q. I guess I'm able to lose a tumbler. Get to work at once, both 
 of you, without another word. 
 
 Pat. {Going with Frank.) Yis, sur. {Aside.) If there was no 
 company prisint, he'd be able to take a dime for it. {Exeunt P.) 
 
 G. Take seats, gentlemen. Don't let this little affair mar your 
 pleasure. ( Opens bottle and pours out wine.^ Passes a goblet to SUGH 
 and one to Grubber.) 
 
 Esty. {Aside.) I'd as soon drink poison as touch it. 
 
 G. { To Esty, who is still standing.) Have a seat, Mr. Esty, and 
 try some of this old grape juice. 
 
 Sligh. It's capital, Esty. 
 
 Grubber. Cleans out the cobwebs first rate. {Smacks his lips 
 loudly?^ 
 
 G, Come, man. 
 
 Esty. {Aside.) Hang the fellow. I suppose I'll have to drink for 
 manners' sake. {Coldly.) I'll try it. {Seats himself L, and takes a 
 few sips.) 
 
 G. Try these apples, they are finely flavored. ( 7<? Esty.) 
 
 Esty. No, thank you ; 1 think we must be going. Jack, what do 
 you say ? 
 
 ♦ Cold tea will serve for " drinks." The players should always drink where 
 the sentiment requires it. 
 
SETH GREENBACK. «? 
 
 Sligh. I say it's deuced unmannerly to snatch a fellow away in this 
 style, when there's good cheer. 
 
 Grubber. What on arth's the use of this hurry? We don't visit 
 here eveiy day. 
 
 Esty. {Aside) Thank the Lord for that. 
 
 Sligh. Well, if we must, we musi; that's all. {All rise.) 
 
 G. {Passing apples.) Put one in your pocket to try on the way. 
 (Sligh and Grubber take an apple apiece.) 
 
 Esty. No, thank you. {Moves to door Z, followed by others) \ 
 do but one thing at a time, so I cannot eat and drive at the same time. 
 Good day, Mr. Greenback. 
 
 G. Good day, Mr. Esty. {Shake hands) Good day, Mr. Sligh. 
 Sorry to have you rush off so, gentlemen. 
 
 Grubber. Well, as fur me, I s'pose you'll see me agin party soon. 
 I reckon I'll be in these parts a right smart while. 
 
 Sligh. And so'll the rest of us too, if I'm not mistaken. (Aside.) 
 I guess we'll like the air here. {Exeunt L.) 
 
 G. I'm glad they're gs^ne. It's queer that Esty should mention 
 York State. He may know too much, and that Sligh knows a good 
 deal more than he tells, I'll bet. {Paces the floor in thought.) Can it 
 be possible that some one from down East has discovered my secret 
 and put these men on my irack? Impossible ! No one from that part 
 ever settled here, and that's why I chose this locality. Pshaw ! my 
 fears are groundless. A dozen years are a cycle in this fast age. And 
 then I've changed greatly. Ugh! {Shudders) No need to remind 
 myself of that. {Steps to a mirror R, and surveys himself; strokes 
 his bushy whiskers.) Tut! tut! Seth Greenback, nobody would ever 
 take you for the handsome George Walford of twenty years ago. In 
 truth I'm another man. Twenty years did I say ? Aha ! Selh Green- 
 back, you're twenty to-day; for just twen'y years ago to-night George 
 Walford clasped his young brother's hand in a hurrie 1 farewell. He 
 swore to aid and defend that imprudent brother, fleeing from the stern 
 demands of offended justice. The oath passed into the black nothing- 
 ness of the night, and with it the fair name of George Walford. In a 
 few short months Seth Greenback robbed the one whom he swore to 
 protect. Even poor Will would not know me now. I wonder where 
 he is ? In a drunkard's grave long before this, I suppose. Poor fel- 
 low ! The papers said he left for California, with his boy, after his 
 wife's death. Well, no matter. It's all over now. {Exit L.) 
 
 Enter Frank R. 
 Frank. {Picking up fragments of broken goblet.) What humili- 
 ation ! I wouldn't minded a" whipping, for I suppose I deserved it for 
 my awkwardness. But I won't stand this degradation before strangeiS 
 any more. Mr. Greenback thinks it's smart, but I think it's mean. 
 I'll tell him so, too, the very next time he does it. He was good to me 
 when I was an outcast, but I've stuck to him long enough. I've paid 
 him well for that. I'll do right by him still, if he'll let me, but I wont 
 be knocked around any longer. 
 
 Enter MiLUE R, 
 
70 SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 Millie. {Wiping her eyes ; has been weeping.) It's too bad, Frank* 
 Oh ! I could tear him to pieces. {Covers her face with her hands.) 
 
 Frank. Don't mind it, Millie. 
 
 Millie. You've never had nothin' but knocks. 
 
 J^rank. Yes, I have. Father and mother loved me. I don't re- 
 member anything about them only that father called me his darling, 
 and said he loved me better than anything else in this world. Then 
 the men stole me avv^ay and took me from him forever. 
 
 Millie. Your father and mother must 'a been good people. 
 
 Frank. {Picking up plate of fruit and tray.) They were, indeed. 
 Oh ! what would they do when I was gone ? 
 
 Millie. I wish you could live with them again, Frank. 
 
 Frank. They're dead long ago, I know, Millie; I can't bear to 
 talk nbout it. {Picks up bottle. Starts toward R.) 
 
 Millie. Let me take the plate, Frank. You can't carry all them 
 things. 
 
 Frank. Yes, I can. This is my work, you know. 
 
 Millie. I don't care a snap whose work it is. I'm going to carry 
 that plate. {Takes f late of apples. Exeunt R:\ 
 
 Scene, room in a hotel, plainly fur?iished ; cheap ckromos on the 
 -walls, a few chairs and spittoons, two or three small tables -with 
 dingy covers and call bells. Seated around a table C, Sligh {rear oj 
 table), EsTY R, and Lark L. 
 
 Sligh. Lark, I tell you what, we've found the queerest old coon up 
 here that ever you saw. You know that old brick house where there's 
 such a large orchard ? 
 
 Lark. On the right hand, about two miles out ? 
 
 Sligh. Yes. Doctor and I were up there the other day. Old 
 Grubber took us up and introduced us. 
 
 Lark. Is he as queer a case as Grubber? 
 
 Sligh. Ten times queerer, but not half as much of a gentleman. 
 But I guess he's been a gentleman once. 
 
 Esty. It's a long time ago, I think. 
 
 Sligh. You're too crusty about trifles, Esty. 
 
 Esty. Do you call that a trifle, to act as he did the other day towards 
 that poor boy ? 
 
 Sligh. Ha ! ha ! Lark, deuced if Doctor didn't get into high dud- 
 geon because Old Greenback — that's the old codger's name, by the 
 way — was about to cufl" the ears of a gawky butter-weed who broke a 
 goblet as he was bringing in the wine. Blood and pistols ! if that 
 wan't a pretty little bit of sentiment on the Doctor's pait. 
 
SETH GREENBACK. 71 
 
 Lark. Yes; almost as sentimental as your oaths. Blood and /w- 
 tolsf Did you get that at an old ladies' tea party? Have you 
 abiandoned the use of all those words that polite printers spell mostly 
 with dashes? 
 
 Siigh. Not entirely, but I must defer a little to the Doctor's notions 
 of propriety. He's got very sentimental of late. 
 
 Esty. If you call that sentiment, then I oju sentimental. I tell you 
 the fellow's a brute to act so. If he hadn't been in his own house I'd 
 knocked him down, I believe. 
 
 Sligk. Let's look at both sides of that question. Esty, were you 
 doing exactly the polite thing when you refused his hospitality so rudely, 
 after his kindness to us? 
 
 Esty. Hospitaiiiy be hanged ! I can't be polite to a man I don't 
 respect, and I don't want his hospitality. 
 
 Sligh. Guests of our stripe oughtn't to be too particular. 
 
 Esty. [Angrily.) Guests of our stripe ! Jack, I know I'm not fit 
 for the society of decent people, but you are the last one to taunt me 
 with my crimes. 
 
 Sligk. I don't say it to taunt you, Esty. I take my share ; but you 
 may have forgotten that two men once left their native village rather 
 unceremoniously, because they happened to put ancAher man's name to 
 a brief piece of writing. 
 
 Esty. {Bitterly.) Well, and if they did, who suggested the miser- 
 able work, and who would have taken the lion's share ii the scheme 
 had succeeded ? 
 
 Sligh. {Angrily.) You needn't have followed my suggestions if 
 you didn't choose. You were of age. 
 
 Esty. In years, but not in the ways of wicked men. 
 
 Lark. Here boys, this has gone far enough. Let's have something 
 to take. {Rings bell.) There's no use calling up bygones. Why 
 don't you talk business. Jack ? 
 
 Sligh. Hush ! We're not far from other cars. 
 
 Enter Mollie /?. 
 
 Mollie. An' what will yez have? 
 
 Lark. Cigars and brandy. 
 Mollie. Yis, sur. {Exit R.) 
 
 Sltgh. Lark, don't talk so deuced loud. Remember we're in a 
 hotel. 
 
 Lark. Third rate tavern, I'd call it. 
 
 Enter Mollie /?, bearing tray and glasses, etc. 
 
 Sligh. Mollie, (MoLLiE going R.) close the door. There's a 
 draught here. 
 
 Mollie. On the brandy bottle did you mane, sur? 
 
 Sligh. No; {Laughing) from the doors 
 
 Mollie. Arrah thin, an' I'll close them both. {Closes both. Going 
 R. Aside.) The bye's are up to somelhin'. {Exit R.) 
 {They pour out a glass of brandy each, zahich they gulp down 
 
 excepting EsTY, who merely tastes his, unnoticed by the others.) 
 
73 SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 Lark. That goes right to the spot. Now for business at once^ 
 before we're interrupted. Jack, state your case. 
 
 Sligh. Briefly it is this, that we crack Old Greenback's crib, and 
 see what's to be had. 
 
 Lark. Is it worth the trouble ? 
 
 Sltgh. Splendid opening. No trouble to get into that old house, 
 and they say he always has lots of money around him, to say nothing of 
 his solid silverware, ^ 
 
 Lark. Agreed ! When shall we try it ? 
 
 Slio^h. Will you join us, Esty ? 
 
 Esty. Jack, I'm surprised at this proposition, but on second thought 
 I've no right to be surprised. I suppose you think me bad enough for 
 anything. But, thank God, I've never stolen yet. 
 
 Sh^k. Stealing! Who talked of stealing? This is merely a 
 question of nocturnal finance. 
 
 Esty. There's no use joking. I never got a penny that didn't belong 
 to me, and I never will. 
 
 Sligh. Came pretty near it though, once. 
 
 Esty. I know it. But chance prevented it, and saved me. 
 
 Sltgh. {Sneeringly .) Humph ! If you consider yourself saved 
 there's no use of argument. 
 
 Esty. None. I'm not the man I used to be. And I'm sorry to 
 learn that you have not mended your ways in all these years. 
 
 Sligh. No preachin' now, if you please. All I want to know is 
 whether you'll blow on us. 
 
 Esty. Perhaps I shall. If it was anybody but Old Greenback I 
 would very quick. I think it would do him good to lose part of his 
 money. 
 
 Lark. So you would turn traitor if you chose, Esty? 
 
 Esty. {Jiunps up in a violent passion.) Dare you call me traitor? 
 (Stezes dottle, and ts about to strike Lark, who draws a pistol.) 
 
 Lark. {Jumps up and cocks his pistol.) I'm ready if that is your 
 game. 
 
 Sligh. {Rushes round table front of LARK ; knocks pistol aside.) 
 What the deuce do you mean by such nonsense ? Don't raise a row 
 here, or the game's up, 
 
 Esty. No man shall call me traitor. I did not seek your confidence^ 
 and would scorn to betray a. friend. 
 
 Sltgh. That's all right, old boy. Don't blow if you can help it. 
 But I think we'll not give him time to blow. Let's try the thing to- 
 night. That will leave him no time to reflect, and ease his conscience 
 too. What do you say, Lark? 
 
 Lark. All right. I'm ready any minute. 
 
 Sltgh. Then we've no time to lose. We must get our gimcracks in 
 order before midnight. {Going L.) Good evening, Esty Sony you 
 can't join us, but business is business. {Aside.) Wonder if he sus- 
 pects who Old Greenback is? No, that can't be. {Exeunt R.) 
 
 Esty. Here's a pretty go. Let a man once step aside from the 
 path of strict rectitude and he is open to the base proposals of every 
 
SETH GREENBACK. ^3 
 
 villain. Hanged if I don't see about this business a little further* 
 {Exit L.) 
 
 Enter Mollie R. 
 
 MoUie. Bloody murder ! Can I iver again trust me sivin sinses ? 
 I'm overpowered intirely ! My prisence of mmd is clane gone. {Enter 
 Pat Z, unobserved.) Och, an' I think I'll be obliged to faint for a few 
 minutes to rekiver mesilf. {Moves towards a chair to sit down. Pat 
 clasps her in //is arms.) 
 
 Mollie. {Screams.) Mercy on me, Pat, an' is it you? How you scart me! 
 
 Pat. { With his arm round her waist.) Share, Mollie, darlint, an' 
 what ails ye? Have ye the diptheria ? Musha, an' like as not ye's got 
 the new disase that's come around so suddmt. The doctor says that 
 Misther Jones's wife has it awful bad. It's a — a — begorrah, what is it ? 
 — a cycloid attack, if ye knows what that manes. An' I'm no Latin 
 scholar meself, but accordin' to the best of me larnin' it must be a 
 disase of the heart. 
 
 Mollie. Oh ! it's dreadful to think of, Pat. 
 
 Pat. Mollie, dear, I'm slightly afficted in the same way meself. 
 Let me perscribe ye a dose, to betaken ivery avenin' till a cure is 
 afficted. {Draws her to him and kisses her,) 
 
 Mollie. {Gives him a ringing slap.) What do ye mane, ye blunder- 
 buss. Och, an' ye' 11 kape your medicine a long time for me, I'll warrant. 
 
 Fat. An' it's for you I'm kapin' it. ( Turns up the brandy bottle 
 and takes a good swig ) 
 
 Mollie. Och ! ye greeny, an' when I want a stickin' plaster on my 
 mouth I'll be after tellin' you. But I've somethin dridful to tell ye, Pat. 
 
 Pat. Be jabers, an' I guessed as much. 
 
 Mollie. Ye knows that Dr. Esty and Jack Sligh ? 
 
 Pat. Yis. 
 
 Mollie. Well, they came here and ordered a drop, an* had another 
 bad lookin' chap with them. Whin I wint out they tould me to close 
 the dures. 
 
 Pat. An' ye did as they tould ye ? 
 
 Mollie. Yis. They looked so quare like that I jist put me ear to 
 that bit of a crack by the dure, an' heerd ivery blissid worred they said. 
 
 Pat. An' wot did they say ? 
 
 Mollie. They were ploltin' murther an' robbery an' traison. 
 
 Pat. Begorrah, an' where is the traison and murther to take place ? 
 
 Mollie. At yer master's. 
 
 Pat. The divil you say. An' whin does the performance begin? 
 
 Mollie This very night at midnight. The Docthor, good luck to 
 him, said he'd take no part in such avil works. 
 
 Pat. Hoorah! Thin I'm good for the other two meself. I'll help 
 meself to another drop to stiddy me narves. ( Takes a pull at the bot- 
 tle.) Mollie, I'm off, an' you'll plase excuse my abrupt haste. {Going R.) 
 
 Mollie. Don't get your head broken, Pat. 
 
 Pat. Niver a bit. {Exit L.) 
 
 Mollie. {Taking tray with godlets, etc., R.) He's a brave bye. I 
 hope thim spalpeens wont get the better of him. {Exit R.) 
 CURTAIN. 
 
74 SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 Scene, same as in Ads I. and II. Lights dim on stage. Enter 
 Pat -with fowling piece., followed by Frank -with a revolver. 
 
 Pat, Faith an' its nearly midnight. The dirty blaggards may come 
 ony minit. Begorrah, they'll not be expectin' to find us all ready for 
 entertainin' company. It was a bit of a surprise party they were plannin', 
 the rascals. Ha! ha ! shure and it will be a complaie surprise. {Brand- 
 ishes his gun. Speaka to it ) Be jabers, ye're a broth of a bye. Ye 
 can rache farther than ony shillalah. 
 
 Frank Pat, keep still, or they'll hear us and escape, 
 
 Pat. Escape ! I'd like to see them rogues run faster than buck 
 shot. Ha! ha! 
 
 Frank. Pat, this is serious business. Don't laugh. I fear some- 
 thing terrible is going to happen. 
 
 Pat. An' that's just my own opinion. I'm no prophet or some- 
 thing will happen to one of them chaps that will be mighty serious like 
 for him. 
 
 Frank. What would we done if Mollie hadn't oveiheard them? 
 
 Pat. Begorrah, they'd hilped themselves to the ould man's money 
 mighty aisy. 
 
 Frank. It would nearly kill him to lose a large sum of money. I 
 believe he'd almost go mad. 
 
 Pat. Mad ! Arrah, thin, an' ye're right. He'd be madder than a 
 disappinted office seeker. His timper would kill him intirely. He'd 
 be a ravin' corpse in tin minutes. 
 
 Frank. Hark ! They are trying the hall window. 
 
 Pat. Git behind that chair, an' I'll shilter behind this table. We'll 
 let them get well into the job first. (Frank gets behind arm chair Z,, 
 Pat behind table L C. Noise of prying open shutters outside JL.) 
 Aisy now, me bye. 
 
 Enter burglars Sligh and Lark L. 
 
 Sligh. {In a low tone.) Good, so far. No trouble to get into this 
 old shell, 
 
 Lark. Where does he keep his money ? 
 
 Sligh. In a bureau in the sitting room. He sleeps in the next 
 room back of that. The door's open. Come on. Be cautious. {Start 
 toward P.) 
 
 Pat. (Pises.) Be jabers, I'll give ye a caution. Levels the gun 
 and fires. Gun snaps the cap but does not go off.* 
 Sligh seizes (he gun and they struggle, Frank rises and levels his 
 
 revolver, at L,ARK. Fires and misses him. 'L.Pi.KK draws and shoots 
 
 Frank, who falls toward C with a yell of pain. Lark tries to 
 
 draw on Pat, but the rapid evolutions of the two make it impossible. 
 
 Lark seizes the gun ivith his left hand, and together they wrench it 
 
 * In the burglarv scene the action shoula uc very rapid. 
 
SETH GREENBACK. 75- 
 
 from Pat, who is hurled back against the wall R by Sligh. Enter 
 
 EsTY Z. He rushes to C. 
 
 Sligh. {Speaks very rapidly R C in rear.) Lark, we're betrayed, 
 They've raised the family. We can thank you for that, Esty. So 
 you've found out vi'ho Old Greenback is at last? Fool ! I should 
 think you would like to get back some of the money he stole from you. 
 Curse the luck. 
 
 Lark. ( Who is at R C in front, to EsTY.) I've a notion to shoot 
 you. {^Levels his pistol Pat snatches up the pistol dropped by Frank 
 and levels at Lark. Sligh strikes down his arm with the fowling 
 piece. Enter GREENBACK R crying, ^^ Seize them.''^ Sligh dashes towards 
 L crying to Lark ''Escape for your life."" Lark rushes to door L 
 folloxued by Sligh, firing at Esty as he passes. Vat fires at theni 
 and breaks Sligh's leg.) 
 
 Sligh. {Struggling to rise.) Help, Doctor, my leg's broken. 
 
 Esty. {Examining Frank's wound) This poor boy needs help first. 
 
 G. {Excitedly.) What does this mean? 
 
 Pat. It manes that your robbed, but divil the thing did they get. 
 
 Esty. {Aside. Looking at G.) Good heavens! It is George. 
 {Picks up Frank and places him in an arm chair C. Opens his 
 clothes. Examines wound. Takes a small case of instru77ients from 
 his pocket and lays them on the table. Probes the wound lightly. 
 'Shakes his head, ^'/t's no use.") 
 
 G. {Looks from one to another^ bewildered.') Robbed, did you 
 say? Oh, I'm ruined, ruined. 
 
 Esty. {Aside.) Ruined if he knew it. 
 Enter Mrs. G. R. 
 
 Mrs. G. Oh, Frank is killed. {Bends over him. Speaks in an 
 undertone to him.) 
 
 Pat. Howly saints, it is this poor bye that's ruined. {Holding 
 Frank's hand. All gather round Frank.) Do ye feel much pain ? 
 Are ye much hurt ? 
 
 Frank. {In a -weak voice.) Very badly, I'm afraid, Pat. 
 
 Millie rushes in R. 
 
 Millie. What's the matter? Somebody's hurt. {Screams.) Oh 
 mercy, it's Frank. {Kneels by his chair R. Grasps his hands.) Are 
 you hurt much, Frank ? Oh, you're not. I know you are not. 
 
 Frank. Millie, I'm badly hurt, 
 
 Millie. Don't say that, Frank. You must get well. You will, 
 won't you ? 
 
 G. {Examines the wound.) Don't be alarmed, Millie. He'll be 
 all right in a few days. The wound is not deep, I think. There is 
 little blood. The bullet must have glanced from a rib. I'm glad they 
 didn't get the money. We were lucky, I think. 
 
 Mrs. G. For shame , Seth. Don't mention money at such a time as 
 this. ^ 
 
 Pat. What's the use of money when this poor bye's at death's dure? 
 
 Esty. {Turns away. Aside.) How can I break the awful truth 
 to them. 
 
76 SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 G. Esty, how did you happen to come here just in nick of time ? 
 
 Esty. I heard of the villain's plan, and came with officers, who are 
 now at the door, I came at once, and found Pat and Frank engaged 
 in a death struggle. 
 
 Pat. Officers ! Then may be they've caught that villain. If Mol- 
 lie hadn't tould me what she heard we wouldn't been here, an' Frank, 
 poor bye, wouldn't bin mortally hurted. 
 
 G. Thank you, Mr. Esty, for your services, and you too, Pat and 
 Frank. 
 
 Esty. You have nothing to thank us for. 
 
 Officer. {Enters hurriedly L.) We've got the villain. He's safe 
 enough. {Sees Frank.) What have we here? * 
 
 Esty. Murder ! 
 
 Officer. Heavens what a night's work ! 
 
 Mrs. G. Mercy on us, Mr. Esty, you are as pale as a sheet. What 
 can we be thinking of that we haven't sent for a doctor? We're 
 all out of our wits. Pat, go for him at once, 
 
 Esty. It is useless. He cannot live, I am a surgeon. His case 
 is peculiar. I wish to give a few words of explanation to Mr. and 
 Mrs. George Walford. 
 
 G. [Starting-.) Walford! Lost! Who are you man ? 
 
 Esty. Do not be surprised. You will learn all soon enough. (To 
 Millie, w/io is still kneeling by Frank's chair ) Girl, arise. {Lifts 
 her. In great agitation.) Others have closer claims on this poor suf- 
 ferer. {Smoothes Frank's brow.) 
 
 Mrs. G. Others have claims ! What do you mean ? 
 
 Esty. Selh, I am your brother Will. 
 
 G. {Starting violently.) What ! Heavens ! I thought you dead. 
 
 Airs. G. This anxiety is terrible! What mystery is this? You 
 know something of Frank's parentage. Can it be that he is our son ? 
 Speak and give relief to a mother's aching heart. 
 
 Esty. He is your long lost Willie, 
 
 Mrs. G. {Kneels by FRANK R of chair ^ and kisses him again and 
 again.) Oh my poor boy, to find you dying is the last agony in a long 
 life of anguish. And such a meeting after years of intercourse, {Covers 
 her face in her hands.) 
 
 G. Wife, this mnn is an impostor. We have every reason to believe 
 that our son died years ago. Sir, substantiate your story. 
 
 Esty. {Passes to G., L C.) George, I could easily satisfy you that 
 I am your brother, did circumstances require proof. Willie was not 
 drowned, as you supposed. In revenge of my wrongs I hired a villain 
 to abduct him from his home. To elude justice we were obliged to 
 abandon him to strangers. I have suffered more than death because of 
 it. The man whom I made my servile tool, to-night tried to rob your 
 house. He is here" to bear witness. 
 
 Sligh. It is true every word of it. 
 
 Esty. Do you still doubt ? 
 
 • Should it be inconvenient to introduce the oflBcer, for want of actors, Pat 
 may step to the door L. and return, reportmsf Lark's capture. He may also 
 prevent Sligh's escape, n.aking an appropriate remark. 
 
SETH GREENBACK. 77 
 
 G, No. It is too horrible to admit a doubt. What an awful judg- 
 ment. To think of my treatment of my own poor boy. ( Takes Frank's 
 hand, and falls on his knees at L of his chair. Greenback looks in- 
 tently at Frank.) It can't be true. {,A pause.) 'Tis a hideous dream 
 What evidence have you that this boy is the Willie you abandoned ? 
 
 Esty. When we had him with us he fell one day and cut a gash 
 back ot his left ear. It healed and left a scar, sloping obliquely down- 
 ward and backward. 
 Frank. Father, the scar is there. You will find it under my hair. 
 G. {Finds scar.) Doubt was anguish, but certainty is the torment 
 of furies. 
 
 Mrs. G. Is there no ray of hope ? All may yet be well. 
 Pat. Docthur, can't ye help the bye someway ? 
 Esty. Frank, are you ready to go ? 
 
 Frank. Yes. If I could but stay with father and mother a little 
 longer I would be so happy. 
 G. Is there no hope ? 
 Esty. None I 
 
 Sligh. {Aside.) Murder ! and a rope for me. Oh for two sound 
 legs ! I'll try it. ( Tries to crawl out L.) 
 
 Officer. {Stopping Sligh.) Hold on, my boy. We need you. 
 G. And you, my brother, have done this. I thought myself a 
 monster. What is the man who will steel an innocent babe ? Demon? 
 Esty. Brother, dare I ask forgiveness of any but Him who forgives 
 the vilest ? Is there any reconciliation ? (Extends his hand. Green- 
 back refuses it.) 
 
 Mrs. G. Remember he had wrongs. Let the grave cover all thought 
 of revenge. 
 
 Frank. {Speaking slowly and with effort.) For my sake, father, 
 orgive him. He meant me no harm. (Greenback takes Esty's 
 hand m silence. ) 
 
 Esty. He's going fast. 
 
 G. Willie darling, will you forgive me ? 
 
 ^tf«y&^ You were good to me, father, when nobody else was, and 
 mother has been so kind. Kiss me, papa and mamma. ( They kiss 
 htm.) Where's Millie? 
 
 Millie. Here I am, Frank. {She kisses him.) 
 
 G. The curse of Mammon is on us. Oh gold ! when will thy power 
 to bhght and destroy be ended? My treasures are adders to sting me 
 My punishment is just. (Bends over Frank in silence. All silent for 
 a few moments. Rises and looks in ¥KKti-K.'s, face.) Dead! (Millie 
 drops on her knees and leans her face on Frank's body) 
 
 Arrangement of characters : a semicircle around Frank's body. 
 
 MILLIE. 
 GREENBACK. Mrs. G. 
 
 ESTY. PAT J2. 
 
 L OFFICERS, (if present.) 
 
 SLOW CURTAIN. 
 
WANTED: 
 A CORRESPONDENT. 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 QUEERGRAIN, ADDIE WiLD, 
 
 Mrs. Queergrain, George Wild, 
 
 Puss Pearly, Box, 
 
 Jack Spigot, Dinah. 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 Any clothing suited to the social standing of the wearer. Jack 
 stylish, and in the last act fastidiously dressed. 
 
 STAGE DIRECTIONS. 
 
 R means right, as the actor faces the audience ; L, left ; C, centre. 
 
WANTED : A CORRESPONDENT. 
 
 Scene, ^ueergraiii's library. A bookcase and writing desk C, in 
 rear; pictures and statuary on the walls; sofa L ; file of news- 
 papers by bookcase ; large easy chair, etc.* JACK, seated in a care- 
 less attitude^ readtJig " Personal''' column of the ** Times.^* 
 
 Jack {Reading.) " Lady correspondent wanted. Address, Sem- 
 per Fidelis, Dexter Station." Ha! ha! Semper Fidelis, you are 
 ever faithful, eh ? Your Latin evidently belongs to the brazen age. 
 •' Will the lady dressed in a light suit, w^ho had linen cloak on her arm, 
 crossed North Ferry about 3 o'clock, and noticed gent, please send her 
 address to Pencil, this office?" Look out, Mr. Pencil, or you may need 
 sharpening before you get through with that angel in a light suit. 
 " Gentleman correspondent wanted. Address Samanlha Ann, Box 345, 
 Oakwood place." Oho! The fair sex is in the field, and competition 
 is lively. Really I had forgotten this is leap year. This one is cer- 
 tainly a joke: " Wanted, correspondent by an elderly gentleman, with 
 a view to matrimony." The old sinner ought to be ashamed of him- 
 self, sowing wild oats at his time of life. Botheration, there is no end 
 to the trouble such business gets one into. It's a little fun and bushels 
 of trouble. I wonder if Puss suspects the trick Addie and I have 
 played on her, and what would she say if she knew of my inamorata 
 incog. ? Confound her incog. How do I know who she is ? She 
 might be my great-grandmother for all I know to the contrary. By the 
 fates, I believe she is old and as ugly as a mud fence, for she persists 
 in writing, and will not consent to an interview. How to dispose of 
 her is the problem. 
 
 Enter Puss. Jack starts. 
 
 Fuss. What weighty problem demands your attention now, Jack? 
 
 yack. Oh ! nothing in particular. 
 
 Puss. Dear Jack, it takes you a long time to read the paper to- day. 
 Is there any special news? Let me see! {Peeps over his shoulder.) 
 I'll declare, you are reading the Personal column. What do you find 
 there to interest you ? 
 
 * If it. is not convenient to place a bookcase on tbe stag^e, a bracket with 
 books maybe suspended on the wall, and atibletake the place of the desk. 
 Where the st.ig^fj allows the use of a thir 1 door for the closet, or where there is 
 a recess, or where a screen can be used for the purpose, make the exits and 
 entrances as griven in the text ; otherwise, let the exits and entrances all be at 
 one side, and the closet at the other. 
 
8o WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 
 
 yack. {^Confused.) Oh, I was just looking at the markets. 
 
 Puss. Now, Jack, don't prevaricate, for you know I've caught you. 
 The markets are on the inside of the paper. What do you say to that, 
 my good fellow ? 
 
 Jack. Well, if I should happen to find the Personal column in 
 looking for the markets, and should glance over its contents, what's the 
 harm. Personals are intended to be read, or why should they be 
 printed, my dear ? 
 
 Puss. And you men like to read them. 
 
 yack. Don't women read them? 
 
 Puss. Why do you ask such an absurd question ? 
 
 yack. Why do you not answer my question? I am afraid women 
 not only read them, but write some of them, too. Listen, dear Puss. 
 {Reads.) " Wanted, gentleman correspondent by a jolly old maid. 
 Money no objection. No widowers need apply." Here is another. 
 " A strawberry blonde would like " 
 
 Puss. Do stop. {Snatches the paper.) Never mind what she likes, 
 you mean, teazing thing, you. You are just making up a lot of stories 
 as you go. 
 
 yack. Not as good as the originals, I assure you. 
 
 Puss. Jack, is it wrong to answer a " personal?" 
 
 yack. Why do you ask? Have you any thought of engaging in 
 such a tender affair? Let me see, which one is it? The elderly re- 
 spectable gentleman ? Remember, Puss, he says with a view to matri- 
 mony. 
 
 Puss. Jack, you ought to be ashamed to talk so, when you know we 
 are engaged. 
 
 yack. What made you ask me such a question, then ? 
 
 Puss. It's a pity I can't ask a question without 
 
 yack. Being quizzed ? Your remark suggested the question. 
 
 Puss. You are suspicious, and I hate suspicion. 
 
 yack. Then answer my question and remove suspicion. 
 
 Puss. Mr. Spigot, I deny your right to question me so authorita- 
 tively. Besides, I asked you a question first, which you have not yet 
 answered. 
 
 yack. Of course it's wrong, Puss — decidedly wrong — it's wicked, 
 especially 
 
 Puss. For ladies. 
 
 yack. I intended to say for those who have unusually nice views of 
 propriety. But I will accept your amendment, and say for ladies. 
 
 Puss. How considerate, Mr. Spigot, to think of including the ladies 
 at all, since you lords of creation usually deny them the right to take 
 the initiative in anything, especially an affair of the heart. 
 
 yack. Pooh ! Women may do anything they can do well, for all I 
 care. 
 
 Puss. I believe you said such a correspondence was decidedly 
 wrong — in fact wicked? 
 
 yack. I used those words, I believe. 
 
 Puss. {Aside.) I'll remember them. They will prove an extin- 
 guisher. 
 
WANTED : A CORRESPONDENT. 8l 
 
 Jack. I asked you a question, Puss. 
 
 Puss, I've quite forgotten what it was, Jack. 
 
 Jack. The poorest memory is the one that chooses to forget Why 
 did you ask me if it is wrong to reply to a personal ? 
 
 Puss. ( With a toss of the head.) My memory is so poor that I 
 have forgotten why. 
 
 Jack. In other words, you refuse to answer. 
 
 Puss. As I denied your right to question. 
 
 Jack. But you questioned me. 
 
 Puss. That was a fair question. 
 
 Jack. You are stubborn. 
 
 Puss. You are exacting. 
 
 Jack. Because I asked a reasonable question ? 
 
 Puss. You are suspicious. 
 
 Jack. You catechise me about what portions of the paper I have 
 been reading. Isn't that suspicion too, Miss Lynx-eye ? 
 
 Puss. Oh, dear ! To think that you could ever call me names ! 
 
 Jack. {Rises.) I'm afraid we'll never get along together, Miss 
 Pearly. 
 
 Puss. I grant you full release, Mr. Spigot. [Turns away.) 
 
 Jack. (Aside.) I guess she'll come round. {With important air.) 
 She won't hold out long when /say the word. 
 
 Puss. {Aside.) An exposure may cure his folly, but mine is as 
 bad, {In a penitent tone.) Dear Jack ! {He turns away.) Will 
 you hear a word ? 
 
 Jack. {Coolly) Several will be required in apology. 
 
 Puss. {Aside.) I'll make up, and get even. {Aloud.) Will you 
 forgive me ? 
 
 Jack. I will, but the conditions are a kiss. {Kisses her. She 
 screams as Queergrain enters L.) 
 
 ^. Aherh ! ahem ! Beg pardon. Jack and Puss. I didn't know 
 you were here. No harm done, 1 hope ? 
 
 Jack. None, that I am aware of. 
 
 ^. I will take a turn on the piazza. 
 
 Puss. Never mind, Pa. I am going up stairs. {Exit i?.) 
 
 Jack. And I shall take a peep around the stables. {Exit L.) 
 
 ^. They are, evidently very happy. I wonder if ten years 
 of married life will make any difference in their happiness ? If it does 
 not they will prove a lucky exception to the average matrimonial experi- 
 ence. Hum ! Mrs. Queergrain and myself were once in bliss. 
 Now we are in — hot water. Mrs. Queergrain always misunder- 
 stands me. Well, she is not entirely to blame. Society is to 
 blame. She merely puts too rigid an interpretation on its require- 
 ments. Society says that married people must give up, more or 
 less, all their intimate friends of the opposite sex, no matter how 
 pure and mutually improving that friendship may have been. So- 
 ciety demands that marriage should impose restraints which effectu- 
 ally smother such friendship. Marriage offers love instead, but when 
 that love is a delusion what then ? What then ? Bow to the tyrant, 
 says Mrs. Queergrain ; defy him, say I. But business must be attended 
 
82 WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 
 
 to. Let me see. I will write a note to Miss Wild, asking her to call 
 this evening. We must finish that library list before Saturday, or the 
 deuce will be to pay. {Seats himself and xvrites.^ At eight? Yes, 
 that will do. Mrs. Q. will be at the mite society this evening. 
 Wouldn't she raise old Nick if she knew this? {Rings for Bo-^.) 
 The poet should have said, instead of ♦* Hell hath no fuiy like a woman 
 scorned," " Hell hath no fury like a jealous woman." {Enter Box 
 R.) Here, Box, deliver this note at once. Don't fail. 
 
 Box. Shall I wait for the answer? 
 
 J^. No, it requires no answer. {Exit R.) 
 
 Box. {Looks at 7wte.) Another note to that woman. {Enter Mrs. 
 Q. /?.) Queergrain is a brick. But I musn't go out in this coat. I'll 
 run up to my room and change it. {Lays note on table. Exit R.) 
 
 Mrs. ^ What is this ? Husband mails no letters at this time of 
 day. {Picks u^ f tote.) Oh, dear! oh, dear! Can I believe my eyes? 
 A note to a woman. Oh, dear ! I shall die. I'm fainting. I will call 
 Puss. {Goes towards door.) No, I'll see first what is in this delicate 
 epistle. {Opens note. Reads.) 
 
 Miss Addie, — 
 
 We will resume our work this evening, if it suits 
 your convenience. Drop in here instead of going home. The family 
 will be absent, and we shall have nothing to disturb us. Come at eight. 
 
 Yours, Mack Queergrain. 
 
 Oh, the wretch ! the false, perfidious wretch ! To think that he would 
 deceive me so. Calls her his Miss "Addie," and says, " We shall 
 have nothing to disturb us." Well, they may be disturbed. I will at 
 once confront him with his scandalous conduct, and then leave him 
 forever. What shall I do? I'll warrant she is some despicable crea- 
 ture that he has picked up. Ha! I know what I'Jl do. I will send 
 this precious missive of affection, and take care to be at home when 
 they " resume their work." What can that mean? I shall see to- 
 night. {Seals note and places it on table.) Hark ! he is coming 
 again. He must not know I've seen that. {Enter Box R.) Box, 
 are you going down town ? 
 
 Box. Yes, ma'iim. What did you wish? 
 
 Mrs. c^. Nothing, I believe. Oh, I forgot. Tell Flint to send up 
 ny scissors that were left to be ground. 
 
 Box, {Pockets note. Aside.) I wonder what Queergrain is up to 
 now anyway. {Exit L.) 
 
 Mrs. ^. So Box mistrusts him too. And I am not unjust in my 
 suspicions, as some of my friends would have me believe. Men all 
 need watching, and you can't go much amiss when you suspect them of 
 mischief. 
 
 Enter Dinah with notCy L. 
 
 Dinah. Mrs. Queergrain, here is a letter for Mr. Queergrain. It 
 was lying in the hall, where it has been dropped by the postman. 
 
 Mrs. ^. {Takes letter. Aside.) A lady's hand. I'll tike care 
 of this myself. {Alond.) Dinah, has a lady called here alone lately? 
 
 Dinah. Yes ; there was Miss Myrtle, last week. 
 
WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. .J83 
 
 Mrs. ^. Yes, I know. I saw her. I mean when I was out. 
 
 Dinah. Yes ; there was the lemale book agent. She called again. 
 
 Mrs. J^. I saw that old thing too. 1 mean a young lady. 
 
 Dinah. Missa, I know nothing about no young ladies but them that 
 called on Miss Puss. {Aside ) Shan't tell all I know. 
 
 Mrs. 4£. And there were no others called ? 
 
 Dinah. I vows 'pon honoh, Missa, that I admitted no young lady 
 into this house. (Aside.) That's true, too, for Massa admitted her. 
 {Exif Dinah /?.) 
 
 Mrs. ^. ( Tears open note hastily.) I'll soon see what she has to 
 say. {Reads.) 
 
 Mr. Queergrain : 
 
 Dear Sir — As I have not seen you to-day, I take 
 this means of enquiring when we shall meet again. Can you stop a 
 few minutes this evening on your way home ? 
 
 Yours, Addie Wild. 
 
 {Angrily crushes note and drops into a chair hysterically.) Mercy! 
 oh dear! oh dear! You brazen wretch. How dare you write to my 
 husband asking when you will meet him again ? So you have mit 
 before, and often too, I know. I am the most miserable of women. I 
 wish I was dead, if it was not that I want to live to expose their sly 
 plans, and shame them with discovery. 
 
 Enter Puss R. 
 
 : Puss. Ma, have you seen Jack within half an hour? Why how 
 agitated you are. Has anything happened ? 
 
 Mrs. J^. The bolt has fallen at last. 
 
 Puss. The night lock will keep burglars out. 
 
 Mrs. ^. How can you be so dull? You know I refer to Mr. 
 Queergrain. His guilty secret is out at last. My dear, we are undone. 
 Our peace has flown forever. 
 
 Puss. Oh! is that all? I thought something serious had happened. 
 
 Mrs. ^. Poor child ! you do not realize the family humiliation. I 
 wish you could give a serious thought to your own welfare and the hap- 
 piness of your poor mother. My own child has no sympathy for me. 
 Oh dear! 
 
 Puss. Ma, I know you are wronging Pa. Because his views arc 
 peculiar in many ways I don't see why you should think of him as you 
 do. He may be wrong sometimes, but then he is the kindest of men. 
 
 Mrs. ^. He is kind enough to some people, I know. But will 
 that kindness soothe the outraged feelings of a betrayed wife ? Oh, he 
 is altogether loo kind. 
 
 Puss. Ma, will you learn nothing by experience? This terrible 
 blow has already fallen a dozen times. The family has been a dozen 
 times undone, and yet we thrive and succeed in maintaining a very 
 genteel position in the community. 
 
 Mrs. ^. This time I have the proofs. There is no longer any 
 room to doubt. My suspicions were not so unjustifiable after all. 
 Read that and he convinced. 
 
 Puss. {Reads the note. Aside.) I'll declare it's Addie Wild. 
 
«4 WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 
 
 (Aloud.) That is conclusive. It is too true. (Aside.) Some of 
 Addie's tricks. (Aloud.) To-night, at eight. (Aside.) Won't there 
 be fun. Jack's hour too. 
 
 Mrs. J^. You can't trust the men. Jack is a good boy, Puss, but 
 he is a little wild. You had better watch him. 
 
 Puss. Just what I have thought, Ma. In fact, I suspect he is up to 
 some mischief, and to-night at eight I hope I shall be able to inform 
 myself positively as to his guilt or innocence 
 
 Mrs. .^. At eight ? Where ? 
 
 Puss. In the library, 
 
 Mrs. J^. The very time and place where an injured and long-suf- 
 fering wife will heap coniusion on the head of a recreant husband. 
 
 Puss. (Aside.) For his complete vindication. (Aloud.) I shall 
 cure Jack effectually. 
 
 Afrs. ^. Have you any proof? 
 
 Puss. I have. 
 
 Mrs. ^. Then administer a telling rebuke. Let the lesson sink 
 deeply while there is yet time. 
 
 Puss. That I will. It will be a good joke. (Aside.) A serious 
 one, may be, if he should discover the identity of his unknown fair one 
 to-night. (Aloud.) Hark, Ma! Some one is coming. 
 
 Enter Q. and Jack, L. 
 
 f^ack. Puss, where is Box ? 
 
 Puss. How should I know where the servants are? I've not seen 
 him. 
 
 ^. I. sent him on an errand down town a few minutes ago, 
 
 Mrs. ^. (Aside.) Audacious! 
 
 Puss. What did you want with him, Jack? 
 
 y^ack. I only wanted him to run an errand to the tailor's. But no 
 matter, I'll send a boy. 
 
 Puss. (Aside.) He is going to bite. (Aloud.) Getting a new 
 suit, Jack ? 
 
 j^acJk. Yes. 
 
 Puss. Light or dark ? 
 
 Jack. (Hesitates.) Dark, of course. 
 
 Puss. Oh, of course. I need not have asked that. (Aside.) Your 
 suit will come to grief, or I'm mistaken. 
 
 J^. Mrs. Queergrain, you remember The Woman's Home Philan- 
 thropic Society holds its monthly meeting this evening; you will attend, 
 of course? 
 
 Mrs. ^. It's quite a walk to Mrs. Quiggles. Could you accom- 
 pany us there ? The gentlemen sometimes attend. 
 
 .^. I fear it will be impossible for me to go. I am very busy at 
 present. 
 
 Mrs. ^. Oh, I dare say you are busy. You always are when it 
 comes to going anywhere with j/our wife. 
 
 J^. Nonsense, my dear ! You know I am always willing to accom- 
 pany you when it is necessary. I see no particular necessity of my 
 going this evening. 
 
WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 8$i 
 
 Mrs. ^. Always willing, but never ready ! I see no particular 
 necessity of your staying at home, 
 
 j^. My dear, I have just told you I am very busy. 
 
 Mrs. ^. Men always have some excuse for neglecting their wives. 
 
 ^. My dear, why do you talk so? You know it is but a step, and 
 you have often gone alone. 
 
 Mrs. ^. Often gone alone !* No need to tell me that. Everybody 
 knows that. I Aave to go alone. 
 
 Puss. Ma, you know we can go alone very well this evening. 
 (Whispers aside.) 
 
 J^. Wife, don't be unreasonable. 
 
 Mrs. ^. I knew it would come to that. I might have expected to 
 be abused. 
 
 Puss. Ma, don't say that. We can go alone quite well. (Aside,) 
 Remember our plans. 
 
 ^. I will go too if it is really necessary, though I can't see why I 
 should attend the meetings of a Woman's society. 
 
 Mrs. ^. No, you need not go, Mr. Queergrain. 
 
 ^. Perhaps Jack will be kind enough to see the ladies to the society 
 and call for them at the close of the meeting. 
 
 yack. Really I should be happy to do so, but I do not know how I 
 am to manage it this time. This is club night, and I have a special 
 engagement. 
 
 Puss. {Aside.) In a special club. {Aloud.) We will excuse you, 
 gentlemen. We can manage quite well without you, indeed. {Aside.) 
 Ma, we will give them plenty of time. {Aloud.) As there is some 
 ♦ extra work before the society, we shall be rather late in getting back. 
 
 Jack. All right, Puss. Sometimes we are late at the club. 
 
 Puss. And will be to-night, I suppose. 
 
 Mrs. ^. The gentlemen will be so occupied that they will be obli- 
 vious to the flight of time. {Exeunt MRS. Q. and Puss R.) 
 
 Jack. ( Whistles or sings.) " Should auld acquaintance be forgot," 
 
 ^. I'll wager Burns wrote that after marriage. I think matrimony 
 tries auld acquaintance about as severely as anything else does. 
 
 yack. Mr. Queergrain, I think you are a little hard on the state of 
 matrimony, considering you are an honored member of the order Bene- 
 dict. I don't believe married people scold any more than single peo- 
 ple, or that they are any more exacting or disagreeable generally. 
 
 ^. Perhaps they are not. But then many people seem to think that 
 marriage gives them the right to scold and suspect and make themselves 
 and everybody around them miserable. 
 
 'Jack. Well, I had not thought of any such right. It doesn't exist. 
 [Aside.) If Puss had that right now, wouldn't I catch it ? 
 
 <^. Wnat is the difference whether it exists or not. If a person be- 
 lieves he has a certain right, that thing is right for him, no matter 
 what others think. 
 
 yack. You will have to abandon that theory. You can prove any- 
 thing right in- that way. After all, marriage does confer the right of 
 
$6 WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 
 
 the parties to correct each other's failings. In fact, that is one of its 
 sacred obligations. 
 
 ^. For Heaven's sake, Jack, don't apply that principle too soon 
 nor too strongly, or there will be an explosion. But I don't think you 
 will have need to do so, for Puss is a good sensible girl. 
 
 yack. She is a splendid girl. (Aside.) I wish though she hadn't 
 begun that correspondence. {Exit R.) 
 
 ^. Jack reasons well for a boy. But his logic's lame, or I'm a dun- 
 derhead. 
 
 Knocking heard L,Q. opens door. Enter Addie. 
 
 Addie. Good mornmg, Mr. Queergrain. You wouldn't come to 
 see me, so I came to you. 
 
 J^. Take a seat, Miss Wild. But why do you say that I would not 
 come to you ? 
 
 Addie. You did not come anyway. I supposed you would stop on 
 your way up town at noon to-day. 
 
 ^. I did not know you wished to see me. 
 
 Addie. Didn't you get my note ? 
 
 J^. I received no note from you, but I sent one to-day, asking you to 
 stop this evening, so that we could finish that list of books. 
 
 Addie. I got your note, but can't imagine what became of mine. 
 
 Ji£. The stupid post office people have mislaid it, or sent it nobody 
 knows where. Mine 1 sent by the coachman. We can finish that list 
 tonight, can't we? 
 
 Addie. I don't know. The library must be kept open until nine, 
 and it will be too late after that. 
 
 ^. I will send a clerk round to take your place. Young Lester is 
 just the one. 
 
 Addie. That will do if people do not interrupt us too much. Even- 
 ing is a bad time for work at the library. 
 
 3. Pshaw ! we will work here. 
 
 Addie. Will Puss be at home ? 
 
 ^. No; Mrs. Queergrain and Puss will both be at the Philanthropic 
 Society, and we shall have everything to ourselves. 
 
 Addie. Couldn't we finish the list to-morrow ? 
 
 J^. I shall be absent from town to morrow. That list must be sent 
 to the bookseller before the close of the month. I will send Lester to 
 the library at eight. I shall have the catalogues all here ready to begin 
 work at once. (Puss and Mrs. Q. heard talking outside R.) 
 
 Addie. Oh dear! I thought Puss and Mrs. Queergrain were not at 
 home this afternoon. What shnll I do! That might reveal every- 
 thing. I mustn't be seen here. I'll go. (Starts towards closet door.) 
 
 ^. Plague take it, what does she mean ? They'll see you, 
 
 Addie. (Opens closet door L.) Oh dear! that's the closet. 
 
 jS£. If you must, be quick. I'll get rid of them. (Pushes her into 
 the closet and closes the door.) I'm slow, but I see it all at last. 
 Deuced slow I was to take a hint. This would be a pretty mess for 
 the scandel-mongers. This is the result of being too liberal. 
 Enter Mrs. Q. and Puss R. 
 
WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 87 
 
 Mrs. J^. What ! alone, Mr. Queergrain ? Oh, you were only 
 soliloquizing aloud. Are you arguing politics with some imaginary 
 opponent? I caught the word liberal just now. 
 
 ^. {Nervously eyeing the closet door.) I was only thinking that 
 people are sometimes too liberal. 
 
 Mrs. ^. I venture the opinion that very few people have the failing 
 of too great liberality, though all may think themselves generous. 
 
 Puss. Ma, please don't begin to philosophize with Pa. He would 
 not quit till tea time. Would you, Pa ? 
 
 ^. (Aside.) She seems in a good humor. I'll try it. (Aloud.) 
 Wife, what do you say to a walk ? It is a beautiful afternoon. 
 
 Mrs. ^. A walk! (Aside.) The first for a year ! (Aloud.) Oh, 
 I should be glad to take a short walk before tea. 
 
 Puss. May I go, Pa? 
 
 ^. Certainly, child. Let us be off at once. (Exit Q. P., followed 
 by the ladies.) 
 
 Mrs. J^. I can't understand it. He never thinks of such a thing 
 as a walk usually. 
 
 Puss. Come on. Ma. Pa is waiting. (Exeunt.) 
 
 Addie. (Appears from closet.) I've made a dunce of myself for 
 a trifle. What made me run the risk of being discovered in such a sit- 
 uation? And then, what will Mr. Queergrain think? That is the 
 worst of it. I must explain to-night. 
 
 Enter Jack R. 
 
 yack. Hello, Addie ! Whai in the world are you doing here alone ? 
 
 Addie, I just came in for a few minutes to see Mr. Queergrain 
 about some library business, and was about to go as you came in. 
 
 Jack. Then you didn't see him. 
 
 Addte. Yes, I did. 
 
 yack. But he and Mrs. Queergrain and Puss are out taking a walk. 
 They didn't go out and leave you alone, surely ? 
 
 Addte. That is exactly what they did. I did not wish to accom> 
 pany them. 
 
 yack. And you didn't take your leave. Waiting for me, eh? 
 Why how did you get that cobweb on your shoulder ? I declare, you're 
 blushing. What's the matter? 
 
 Addie. Oh, you are entirely too inquisitive, Jack. 
 
 yack. But there is some mystery about this, Addie. What is it ? 
 You must tell. You look guilty. 
 
 Addie. Well, Jack, if you must know I'll tell you, but you mustn't 
 tell it for the world. You are my confidant, you know. I didn't wish 
 Puss to know just yet that you and I are old acquaintances. It might 
 Spoil our plans. So I just hid in the closet till Mr. Queergrain took 
 the ladies out for a walk. 
 
 Jack. Ha! ha! ha! Hid in the closet! Well, that beats me. 
 Just think of a young lady calling on her friends, and then hidmg in 
 the closet to avoid seeing some of them. Romantic, decidedly ! I'm 
 glad Puss didn't find it out though. Ha ! ha 1 
 
88 WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 
 
 Addie. Hark! Some one's coming. {Vuss heard outside, talking 
 to Mrs. Q. R.) 
 
 Jack. Hang it, there's Puss back. I wish you had gone at once. . 
 She is going up stairs and will be down in a minute. Couldn't you go 
 into the closet again till I dispose of her? Another time won't make 
 much difference. 
 
 Addie. It ain't just proper, but then as it's all a joke I'll run the 
 risk. {^Enters closet ) 
 
 Puss. Why ! are you here alone, Jack ? I thought you were out 
 calling. 
 
 Jack. I've been back some time. I'm tired staying in doors. Don't 
 you want to take a walk ? 
 
 Puss, A walk I Gracious me ! I've been walking to-day till I'm 
 nearly tired to death. 
 
 yack. Oh, you have been walking. {Aside.) What a fool I was to 
 forget that 
 
 Puss. Jack, what do you think ? Pa and Ma were taking a stroll ; 
 something that does not happen often since Pa has been so busy. It 
 will do them both good. Ma worries too much sometimes. But I was 
 so surprised that Pa should take a walk this time of day. He never 
 did it before. 
 
 yack. Yes, it is singular. {Aside.) I think, though, I could explain 
 it. {Aloud.) I have a dull, disagreeable feeling just now. What will 
 shake it off? 
 
 Puss. Sit down here and we will have a pleasant chat. That will 
 wear off your dullness. 
 
 Jack. No, I'm tired of the house. I need a breath of cool air. 
 Suppose we go out into the garden. I never tire of the beauties of 
 nature. 
 
 Puss. I forgot that. Once you get to talking all your dullness will 
 vanish. You must chase it away. You know I pride myself on your 
 mirthful disposition and wit. If you distinguish yourself again, as you 
 did last evening, I shall call you Monsieur Bon Mot. May I not? 
 
 Jack. Call me anything you choose, so it isn't bad. 
 
 Puss. But you are dull, Jack. What is the matter ? Haven't you 
 got over our little passage at arms this morning ? I thought that was 
 all made up. 
 
 Jack. It was, I assure you. 
 
 Puss. What is the matter, then ? I never knew you to act so. Have 
 you a skeleton in the closet ? 
 
 Jack. There is nothing the matter. I don't usually keep skeletons 
 in my closet. {Aside.) I hope to the Lord this one will not tarry long. 
 {Aloud.) But let's go to the garden. 
 
 Puss. And I will make you a bouquet just like the one you wore 
 the first time we met. That will put you in good spirits, won't it, dear 
 Jack. 
 
 Jack. Yes, darling, that will set me all right again. {Aside.) If 
 that girl don't smother in the closet. {Exeunt JR.) 
 
 Addie appears from closet. 
 
WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 89 
 
 Addie. That hateful closet! A pretty fool I've made of my- 
 self to help Jack play a joke on Puss. Jack thinks that's the reason, 
 but Puss is so jealous that it isn't safe to have her think that we're 
 acquainted. Well, Jack is a thoughtless young butterfly, among 
 the fair sex. Ha! the sly rogue to entrap Puss into a correspond- 
 ence in order to balance his own delinquencies! My part in this 
 little game was easy enough, viz.: to furnish one male corres- 
 pondent, with all modern improvements, such as small talk; soft 
 nothings of speech, very soft; sentiment of the mildest and most 
 approved pattern; a taste for the opera, and a wonderful power of 
 criticism therein; orthodox in all things, with opinions in none; 
 penmanship taultless; spelling architecturally correct, though 
 some latitude is allowed on that point; above all, a handsome 
 face (cabinet size $8 per dozen); good clothes and plenty of pocket 
 money. Ha! ha! if my brother Gecrge can't fill the bill, it's his 
 affair, not mine, for all* responsibility of third parties terminates 
 at a very early stage in such proceedings. I more than half sus- 
 pect Puss is playing a similar game on Jack. Poor goose, he 
 boasts of his last conquest and suspects nothing. Puss is a deep 
 one. They'll both learn a lesson that will do them good. Mr. 
 Queergrain didn't understand my hiding in the closet. That 
 must be explained. {Exit L.) 
 
 Scene — Same as Act I. 
 
 Jack. What odd privileges leap-year bestows ! A young lady 
 coollv sends a delicate note saying that she will call at eight 
 o'clock, if I am not engaged. I am always at home for the 
 ladies, and at home with them, too. It's lucky that Puss is away. 
 I always was a fortunate chap. There is nothing improper about 
 this. The girls took their admired fortunates to the leap-year party. 
 I am in for some fun. She is in love with me. That photo did 
 the business. All the girls acknowledge that Jack Spigot is a 
 heart-smasher. {Stmts fufpiskly.) I hope her heart is not entirely 
 used up. Pshaw! She is not the kind to break her heart so easily. 
 I wonder if she is pretty.-* If she isn't, I'll freeze her with polite- 
 ness. If she is pretty.?' A little flirtation, that's all. I must put 
 the finishing touches to my toilet. {Bxtt R. Enter Q. L.) 
 
 ^. How shocking to think that Addie suspected me of 
 improper motives and was willing to meet me under such cir- 
 cumstances! That closet was a revelation. Perhaps, after all, Mrs. 
 Queergrain was right. She mustn't know of this. Hang it, I believe 
 the marriage harness fits none too closely, after all, and that the 
 social harness ought to fit a great deal closer. I'm deceived in 
 the rising generation. (Petulatitly.) Addie flirts secretly. Jack 
 flirts publicly. Puss flirts in the style. The servants flirt in 
 the kitchen, and they all flirt abominably. {Knocking L. Opens 
 the door. Enter Addie.) 
 
 Addie. Good evening, Mr. Queergrain. {^. bows.) 
 
ga WANTED : A CORRESPONDENT. 
 
 ^. Take a seat. {Places chair.) You are very punctual in your 
 
 engagements. 
 
 Addie. Punctuality is one of the cardinal virtues. As you are 
 ready, I presume we can begin at once. I hope we shall accomplish 
 a large amount of work to night, 
 
 j^ . I hope we may be able to finish this work entirely. I am^ 
 heartily sick of it. 
 
 Addie. Before we begin, I wish to make an explanation in regard 
 to something which — {Footsteps heard outside R.) 
 
 ^. Hark! {Listefis.) Some one is coming. Who can it be! 
 Jack has gone to the club, and the ladies are gone to the society. I 
 thought the servants had all gone to the dance. {Opens door and 
 peeps out R.) Good Lord ! Whoever it is is lighting a lamp. Miss 
 Wild, please step into the closet. No one must see you here 
 
 Addie. I will not hide like a convicted culprit again in that hateful 
 closet. I am innocent of any wrong intentions, and 
 
 ^. Innocent ! and so am I. But I've been indiscreet. I've done 
 wrong. There'll be a scene, and people will talk. Do not compro- 
 mise yourself and me by appearances. Go, please. 
 
 Addie. Oh, dear ! {Enters closet L. Q. closes door and steps 
 behind his -writing desk.) 
 
 Enter Box R. 
 
 Box. Why here is a lamp burning. They forgot that, I suppose. 
 She is not here yet. Susan is a sensible, dear girl. She prefers stay- 
 ing at home with me to going over to the Hall and dancing all night 
 with all the young sprigs in town. But where can she be so long. 
 Ah ! she is coming at last. I can tell her step long before her fairy 
 form appears. I'll pretend I am not here, and surprise her. ( Turns 
 down one lamp and blows the other out. Drops behind large chair) 
 
 Enter Mrs. Queergrain R. disguised as chambermaid^ veiled. 
 
 Box. {Springing up.) Aha! my charmer! Got a veil on, eh! 
 Thought you would fool me. I'll pay you for that trick. {Pulls of 
 Mrs. Q.'s veil, and kisses her before he discovers his mistake. Both 
 recoil in amazement.) 
 
 Box. What the 
 
 Mrs. ^. What do you mean. Box, by such scandalous conduct? 
 
 Box. 1 didn't mean it at all. I didn't know it was you. I beg 
 pardon, I do, t — I — 
 
 j^. {Stepping forward suddenly.) You had better beg mine too. 
 Such conduct is inexcusable. 
 
 Box. Really, Mr. Queergrain, I meant no harm. I thought it was 
 Susan, seeing that she had her dress on. 
 
 ^. I don't see that you are excusable to enter my library and con- 
 duct yourself in such a manner with Susan even. I do not wish my 
 servants to act so unbecomingly. Mrs. Queergrain, perhaps you will 
 not object to explaining why you appear here in such an unbecoming 
 attire? 
 
 Mrs. ^. I can explain that when you explain why you are here at 
 
WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 91 
 
 al!. You led me to believe you had an engagement down town. 
 
 ^. 1 didn't say I had an engagement down town. 
 
 Mrs. J^. You said you were crowded with work, and you never 
 work here. 
 
 ^. Madam, I can explain that satisfactorily in due time. 
 
 Mrs. ^. In due time ! Now is the time, or never. I am ready 
 now to explain anything that may need explanation. (They stand and 
 gaze at each other.) 
 
 Enter Puss R. 
 
 Puss. Why, Pa, are you here. I thought you and Jack had 
 engagements. {Aside ) Addie hasn't come after all. {Aloud.) Pa, 
 what tableau are you and Ma representing? It's decidedly good, ha! 
 ha ! Now I have it ! King Cophetua and the beggar maid. Pa has 
 a regal look, and Ma is not a bad beggar maid in her present attire. 
 A misunderstanding again, I suppose? What is it, Ma? 
 
 Mrs. ^. I will not speak first. 
 
 ^. Nor will I. 
 
 Fuss. Then I will speak. I can clear up this mystery, I think. 
 But you must all follow my instructions. First of all, we must go into 
 the parlor for a few minutes. 
 
 ^. Into the parlor ! What for? 
 
 Pzfss. Never mind what for. Only obey instructions and all will 
 be clear in a few minutes. Come. We'll be back in a few minutes. 
 
 ^. I'd like to know what she is going to do. {Exeunt /?, Puss 
 last.) 
 
 Box. {Passing out. Astde.) If I get out of this scrape, you shan't 
 catch me surprising anybody again. That was a surprise, sure 
 
 Puss. {Aside.) I wonder if she will be ready soon. Hark ! There's 
 a timid knock at the door. And Jack's coming down stairs to answer 
 it. Good ! good ! Everything works like a charm. I hope he hasn't 
 heard us. {Exit P.) 
 
 Enter L Jack and Dinah, latter heavily veiled and disguised. 
 
 Jack. Let me take your hat and coat {stSiimers) — I meant your 
 bonnet and shawl. {She takes her shawl off, and hands it to him.) 
 
 Your hat and . Hang it, I meant your things. Excuse me, I am 
 
 not accustomed to receive lady callers. Take a seat. {Points to chair.) 
 
 Dinah. {Speaks with a lisp.) You are quite excusable. {Seats 
 herself on sofa L.) Of course itseems a little odd for a lady to call on 
 a gentleman in this way. Leap year does not come often. I don't feel 
 at all at home myself, 
 
 Jack. {Seating himself on chair opposite her.) That's so, I wish 
 it did, though. I beg your pardon, I forgot to take your hat. Let me 
 take that, Miss Flyer, 
 
 Dinah. Thank you, it is hardly worth while for me to take off my 
 hat. 
 
 yark. You need not be in such a hurry. We must get acquainted, 
 
 Dinah. I shouldn't like to remain long, for the folks might return 
 before I left. 
 
92 WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 
 
 'yach. Pshaw ! They will not be back for an hour or more. Mr. 
 Queergrain never gets in till ten or after, and Mrs. Queergrain will 
 stay at the society until it adjourns, and that is nearly ten. 
 
 Dinah. I shan't remain long. I intended merely to make a short 
 call. 
 
 Jack. Very well, let it be short, if that is the inevitable, but please 
 don't be formal about it. 
 
 Dinah. That's my sentiment. I never did like formahty. So let's 
 get acquainted. I've been wishing ever since we began this very 
 pleasant correspondence to meet you. 
 
 Jack. Indeed ! {Aside.) I thought so. {Aloud.) I certainly can 
 say that I was very desirous of the same pleasure. We might just as 
 well have met sooner, and so have tasted this happiness often. I pre- 
 sume, though, you are an advocate of self-denial. 
 
 Dinah. To confess the truth, I hardly knew whether it would be 
 right to receive a call from an entire stranger. 
 
 yack. So you concluded to call on me. I appreciate your deli- 
 cacy, and think more of you for it. {Aside.) Over the left. 
 
 Dinah. Please, Mr. Spigot, don't say that. 
 
 Jack. What? 
 
 Dinah. That you think more of me. 
 
 Jack. Well, if you don't wish me to say that, I will take that back 
 and say that you have done the proper thing. {Aside.) In a horn. 
 
 Dinah. Thank you, Mr. Spigot, I m so glad to know that you think 
 so. 
 
 Jack. Of course there can be nothing improper in our meeting, 
 and if the thing itself is right the place can't make much difference. 
 I have longed to see your face ever since I first looked on your photo. 
 
 Dinah. You are inclined to flattery, Mr. Spigot. 
 
 Jack. It's the truth, anyway. {Aside.) Why don't she take off 
 that abominable veil. {Aloud.) Miss Flyer, hadn't you better take 
 off your hat? 
 
 Dinah. No ; I must make a short call. 
 
 Jack. {Aside.) Deuced slow to take a hint. {Aloud.) You don't 
 mean to say that you are going to keep that veil over your face till you 
 leave, and not let me see your face at all ? 
 
 Dinah. I'll be your inamorata incognita, the mysterious Lady of the 
 Veil. 
 
 Jack. {Aside.) A beauty ! I will see her face. {Aloud.) Madam, 
 your Sir Knight wishes to see the beautiful face of the Lady of the 
 Veil. He is dying for one of her smiles. 
 
 Dinah. You have my photo., and if you wish to see my face you 
 must call on me, 
 
 yack. {Aside.) Ugly, I'll bet. A scheme to trap me. {Aloud, 
 wimnng^.) Miss Flyer, your photo, can't smile. Besides, I wish to 
 verify it before I continue our acquaintance further. Will you give 
 me the opportunity to gaze on your beautiful countenance ? 
 
 Dinah. Mr. Spigot, I have the best of leasons for refusing your 
 request. When we meet again all will be made clear. 
 
 Jach. When we meet again ! I'm going to solve this riddle now. 
 
WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 93 
 
 (Seais himself beside her on the sofa. Produces fhoto. Looks at it.) 
 What splendid eyes ! and what delicately molded lips ! Miss Flyer 
 may I sip the nectar of those ruby lips ? {Advances.) 
 
 Dinah. {Rises.) What do you mean, sir ? 
 
 Jack. The plain English of it is, may I kiss you? 
 
 Dinah. Kiss me ! How dare you ! 
 
 Jack. I am always ready to dare and to do when there is no more 
 sacrifice involved than on the present occasion. {Seizes her and 
 attempts to lift her veil. She screams. Puss and others enter R,) 
 What the Confusion ! 
 
 Puss. Goodness alive ! what's the matter? 
 
 ^. This is a night of surprises. 
 
 Mrs. ^. {Severely) Mr. Spigot, it devolves on you as a gentle- 
 man to explain your conduct. 
 
 Puss. We are ready for explanations, Jack. 
 
 Enter Box L, showing in Geo. Wild. Announces, *^A gentleman 
 who -wishes to see Miss Pearly." Mr. Q. beckons Box to remain. 
 Geo. stops by Jack L., faces Puss, who is in R. C. Mr. and Mrs. 
 Q. between them. 
 
 Geo. Good evening, Miss Pearly. 
 
 Puss. {Surprised.) What! How did you come here? You 
 assume a great deal. I said Thursday evening. 
 
 Jack. Thursday! You knew I should be gone then. It's your 
 turn to explain. Why don't you introduce the gentleman? 
 
 Geo. I will attempt (Jack beckons him to keep quiet.) 
 
 ^. {Aside.) I hope she's not in there yet. (Glances at closet.) 
 
 Mrs. ^. Puss, you promised to clear up this mystery, but it only 
 increases. Stop your nonsense, and tell us what it means. 
 
 Puss Ma, don't ask. I can't explain. Where's Addie ! {Looks 
 around bewildered. Door of closet opens and Addie steps out beside 
 Geo.) 
 
 Mrs. ^. {Hysterically.) Merciful heavens ! my worst fears are 
 realized. I am undone ! Oh ! oh ! oh ! Mr. Queergrain, how came 
 she there? 
 
 Puss. Oh, Addie! I'm so glad you are here. Ma, this young lady 
 is Miss Addie Wild, an intimate friend of Pa's and mine. 
 
 Mri. J^. Then why is she in the closet ? and why are you at home 
 to-night, Mr. Queergrain? 
 
 ^. Mrs, Queergrain, I thought that the child of my most intimate 
 friend, and a schoolmate of Puss's, could visit here safely at all times. 
 We made an engagement this morning to meet and finish the library 
 list this evening. 
 
 Mrs. o^. Yes, but this secrecy — the closet, Mr. Queergrain? 
 
 Addie. Mrs. Queergrain, that was all my fault. Mr. Queergrain, 
 to-day I did not shrink from meeting your wife, as I fear you supposed. 
 I blush to think that I should give the slightest ground for such a 
 thought. It was only Puss I wished to avoid. 
 
 Puss. Only me ! I declare I 
 
94 WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 
 
 Mrs. J^. So you avoided her once before, to-day, and avoided me 
 just now. Queer conduct for a lady ! 
 
 Addie. Mr. Spigot and I were carrying out a little ruse which we 
 had projected. You need not stare, Puss. We did not wish Puss to 
 know just yet that Jack was an old friend of mine, lest she might sus- 
 pect something and spoil it all if she saw us together. 
 
 Mrs. ^. And all this trouble comes from i boy's-and-girl's trick. 
 
 J^. It's all my fault. I pushed her in. I thought she was 
 
 It's all right. 
 
 Mrs. ^. If it's right to try to decieve me, then it is all right. 
 
 j^. Only a mistake all around ! No harm done, that is if you can 
 explain satisfactorily that little matter between you and Box, my dear. 
 
 Mrs. ^. The blundering blockhead ! 
 
 Puss. We have all learned a lesson by experience. Mr. Danby, 
 {To Geo.) I shall introduce you to the company. 
 
 Geo. Not by that name, please. 
 
 Addie. Ha! ha! Brother George, I will introduce you to Mr. 
 and Mrs. Queergrain. {They bow.) 
 
 J^. {Shaking hands.) Well, well ! more surprises ! George, I 
 shouldn't have known you after your long absence. 
 
 Puss. Gracious, George, it can't be you. 
 
 Geo. But it is. 
 
 yack. Puss, your unknown correspondent. Confess, my pouting 
 delinquent. We know all about it. 
 
 Mrs. ^. My daughter, you shock me terribly. To think that my 
 child would do such a thing. I've lost confidence in human nature. 
 What will mankind come to ? 
 
 yack. To a pretty woman when she advertises for a correspondent. 
 
 Puss. It's mean as can be. George, I shan't like you a bit for 
 helping them. 
 
 Geo. It was only a joke, Puss. 
 
 yack. Another lesson learned, Puss. 
 
 Puss. How did you find out I advertised for a correspondent ? 
 
 yack. Easy enough. Don't throw the draft of your next adver- 
 tisement into the coal scuttle. 
 
 Fuss. You're too provoking for any good. But I'll forgive you, 
 Jack. I think I'm even with you. Did you ever lose a letter ? 
 
 yack. Yes. 
 
 Fuss. And found a correspondent. Furnished to order. Ha ! ha ! 
 
 J^. Call it a draw game. 
 
 Mrs. ^. I'm horrified! 
 
 yack. {To Puss.) Then who is this lady? I don't recognize her. 
 
 Mrs. ^. ( Gazes at DiNAH who attemps to run off R and is pre- 
 vented by Mrs. Q. No; since you have done such an unlady-like 
 action, stay and bear its consequences. How dare you run away? 
 
 Fuss. Ma, let the poor girl go. She' ssuffered enough. {Beckons 
 Dinah to go. ) 
 
 Jack. Leave this to me. {To Dinah.) I beg your pardon, 
 madam ; who are you ? (Q. glances at Dinah, who is seated on sofa^ 
 and nods significantly at Mrs Q.) . 
 
WANTED: A CORRESPONDENT. 95 
 
 Puss. Wait a minute, Jack ; will you forgive her and me? Re- 
 member it must be an unconditional pardon; no reservations. 
 
 Addie. Don't be hard hearted, Jack. 
 
 Jack. I guess I can afford to grant full absolution. 
 
 Mrs. ^. Let this be a warning, a dreadful warning. But I'll know 
 who she is. 
 
 .^. My dear, I think we have learned that true love endures no 
 tests. 
 
 Mrs. ^. And no unshared secrets ! 
 
 Jack. {Aside.) She can't resist me. I'm too much for 'em gene- 
 rally. {Aloud. 7b Dinah.) Madam we await your pleasure. Ex- 
 cuse my cariosity, but I'm anxious to have the pleasure of your acquaint- 
 ance. {Steps back towards Yil^K^, who is in rear L. A pause.) 
 
 Mrs. ^. 77/ make her acquaintance. {Advances toward DiHAJi.) 
 
 Puss. Please don't, ma. 
 
 Mrs. ^. I wili. {Jerks off DiNAH's mV. Latter hesitates a mo- 
 ment, then runs off R. All laugh.) 
 
 Jack. A trie, confound it ! 
 
 Puss. Another lesson , Jack ! 
 
 Quick Curtain, 
 
A FAMILY STRIKE. 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 Blttzen, Gus Gallivant, 
 
 Mrs Blttzen, Wilks Blitzen, 
 
 Julia Blitzen, Mary, servant, 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 Any clothing suited to the social standing of the wearer. Gus 
 stylish, and fastidiously dressed. 
 
 STAGE DIRECTIONS. 
 
 R means right as the actor faces the audience; L, left; C, centre. 
 
A FAMILY STRIKE. 
 
 ♦ ^ 
 
 Tn?'/'"' rP\^^^ of days! Can I believe it that this delightful 
 Tuesday October 9th IS the day I have awaited in such suspfnse? 
 Yes Its to-day ^Looktn^ again at t/ie note.) He says Tuesday. Oh 
 r do wish this day could be as long as the last long month has been 
 since I pared from dear Gus at the Springs. But it will not. 
 How provoking ! that our joys must be so few and fleeting t It will 
 be as short as those delicious evenings we spent together driving 
 and waltzing. How they flew on the wings of_of-yts of love fo? 
 I loved hini from the very first. Wasn't it romantic to think that 
 Gus should be the one to find my card case and return it to me? Of 
 course we had to exchange cards after that, and then I couldn't think 
 of being so rude as not to bow to him on the promenade the next 
 
 ZxJ\Z'' r^-^'f^^f^^''^ Nowhe visL the city wfthhS 
 uncle. Ah! I wish he had come without that respected relative, 
 for somehow ^I never could get acquainted with him. Indeed his 
 overpo■wer^nglyhen^wo\er^t look seemed always saying "I pity that 
 giddy young thing. I'll have him understand I don't^long for pky 
 I despise It. But I'll try and love him for Gus's sake. 
 
 Enter Mrs. B. R. 
 
 Mrs B. Julia, when do you expect Mr. Gallivant ? 
 J^ita- At three. They come on the noon train. 
 Mrs B. And his uncle will call with him I suppose? 
 
 n„.Vt 2* ^,^^^^',e^V''- , ^ ^'^^ ^^ wouldn't. He wants to get ac- 
 quainted with the family. So Gus says. He's a self-apminted 
 
 b/uSrabler""'"- ''' '^^^' ^^^' '' ""' decisionThould 
 .e^Z\ f .,^°"V^et my dear! I guarantee he'll find few more 
 ^IT \ r'^'% '^^" '5'^' '^ ^'- ^' b^h^^^^ ^i^^self. and /'// take 
 Newflnatjt ^^ ""^^ ^'^'' ""^'^^ "°' y^^ g°^ «^^ ^^^^^es for Mrs. 
 send at 1?.^ f'."^? T'' '^ '''^''^ °" ^'- ^^^''^^ '^'^^ time. Fll 
 
 decfde about T}.t ^a'' ^""'""^^ "°' ^° P^^^^"^ ^^' ^^" ^^11 ^« 
 
 tnnw ^2> ^ "5"^. ^'^^^^^' '^ ^«:?->^^ influence Mr. Blit2en,yott 
 know. {Ringing of door bell heard.) ^ 
 
96 A FAMILY STRIKE 
 
 Julia. Why who can that be? {Looks out.) Oh dear I believe 
 it is Mr. Shekel, and Gus is not along ! {Excitedly, ) There's some 
 mistake. His note said at three. What shall we do? 
 
 Mrs. B. Keep cool and receive him as if he were expected. It's 
 some eccentricity of his. But he'll not catch Mrs. Blitzen napping 
 I think. ( Goes to door L.) 
 
 Enter Wilks Blitzen. 
 
 Wilks, Mrs. Blitzen, I presume. 
 
 Mrs. B. {Bowing.) We were not expecting you so soon, but 
 our pleasure is all the greater as you can be with us longer. 
 
 Wilks. Oh the pleasure is mutual. {Aside.) Not expecting me. 
 Shouldn't wonder, nobody told them I was coming. 
 
 Mrs. B. This is my daughter Julia. I presume you remember her. 
 
 Wilks. {Turns to Julia.) Yes, I remember Julia quite well. 
 How are you Julia? I suppose you remember your uncle, although 
 it is quite a long time since we met. {Offers her his hand.) 
 
 Julia. I remember you quite well, though it is some time since 
 we met. {Aside.) I'll declare, he acts strangely. Calls himself **uncle" 
 and me Julia. Its evident that he's agreed. {Aloud.) I'm so glad 
 you're come. 
 
 Mrs. B. And we sincerely hope you will enjoy your visit, 
 
 Wilks. Thank you. I shall, I'm sure. But first, I want to see Mr. 
 Blitzen about some baggage, and then I'm ready to visit. 
 
 Mrs. B. I'm very sorry! He's just stepped over to the next 
 street, but will be back in a minute. 
 
 Wilks. Then I'll go out and meet him. I want to surprise him. 
 
 Mrs. B. But you may not be able to find him. I'll send for him. 
 
 Wilks. No, I saw him, I think, as I came in. 1 shall have no 
 difficulty if I wait at the corner. It will be a surprise to hail him on 
 the street. {Exit L.) 
 
 Mrs. B. I should say it would surprise anybody. Why, how fa- 
 miliar he seems. No reserve at all. Is Gus any thing like his uncle? 
 
 Julia. I didn't use to think so. It's remarkable! He seems so 
 sociable now. I guess I was mistaken in him. The fact is, I never 
 saw him more than three or four times, and never spoke over a dozen 
 words to him. 
 
 Mrs. B. It's very evident that he has made up his mind that 
 everything is all right. 
 
 Julia. Well, I hope so, ma. I'd die if he should separate dear Gus 
 and me. {Exit R.) 
 
 Mrs. B. Nonsense ! What sentimental notions girls get into their 
 heads* to furnish amusement to them when they think of it in after 
 years. 
 
 Enter Servant L. 
 
 Servant. Mrs. Blitzen, there's a gentlemen at the door enquiring 
 for Miss Blitzen. 
 Mrs. B. Is he young or old, Mary ? 
 
A FAMILY STRIKE. 99 
 
 Servant. He is youngish like, and tall. Looks like he might be a 
 clerk. 
 
 Mrs. B. Then tell him Miss Blitzen can not see him to-day. 
 {Exit servant L.) 
 
 Mrs, B. These duns are a frightful bore. Why can't people wait ? 
 
 Enter Servant L. 
 
 Servant. He says he must come in — that he had an appointment. 
 
 Mrs. B. Then tell him to come in. I'll soon dispose of him. 
 i^Exit servant L. Returns shoiving in Gus.) 
 
 Mrs. B. {Frigidly.) Did you wish to see me, sir? 
 
 Gus. {Hesitating.) Well, yes, madam; though I called to see 
 Miss Bhtzen. 
 
 Mrs. B. She is not in sir. Besides / attend to all such affairs. 
 
 Gus. {Aside.) The deuce you do ! {Aloud.) Madam, there must 
 be some mistake ! 
 
 Mrs. B. {Stiffly.) None at all, sir. 
 
 Gus. But Miss Julia knows thfit I intended to call to-day. 
 
 Mrs. B. Sir, I told you / attend to those matters. 
 
 Gus. Those matters ! {Aside.) Thunder ! I wonder if they 
 have many such affairs. 
 
 Mrs. B. You must come to-morrow. {Aside.) It will never do 
 for Mr Blitzen to see that bill for those silks. 
 
 Gus. Hang it! (Aside.) This is deuced queer conduct for one's 
 intended mother-in-law. I'll try again. (Aloud.) Madam, there 
 must be something 
 
 Mrs. B. Nothing of the kind. Young man, I said you could call 
 tomorrow. (Aside) I wish he'd go. Mr. Blitzen may come at any 
 moment. 
 
 Gus. (Aside.) By George she can't play that on me. (Aloud.) 
 Madam, may I see you this afternoon? Vou^ I presume, are Mrs. 
 Blitzen. Can I have an interview with you. 
 
 Mrs. B. (Desperately.) Yes yes. (Aside.) Anything to get 
 rid of him. Go ! Go at once. Don't let Mr. Blitzen see you. 
 
 Gus. (Aside.) Oh tAat's it. The old man's been cutting up 
 about it. (Aloud) Very well, madam, I'll call this afternoon. 
 
 Mrs. B. Good day. 
 
 Gus. Good day. (Bows, and exits L. Mrs. B. exit R.) 
 
 Enter Blitzen R, seats himself, picks up paper. 
 
 Blitzen. (Reading) Elmira, July 25. All trains are stopped 
 on the Erie road. The strikers are in force, and threaten violence 
 at Hornellsville. The Brooklyn troops are moving west cautiously. 
 Strikers are tearing up the track in advance of the train. Chicago, 
 July 25. Everything is quiet here so far, but serious trouble is 
 threatened. 400 regulars arrived to-day. 
 
 London, July 24, 2 p. m. The American strikes and riots are creat- 
 ing a profound sensation thioughout Europe. Creating a sensation ! 
 (Drops paper) Of course they will. Capital was uneasy enough 
 
loo A FAMILY STRIKE. 
 
 before. Now it's insane. Blow it ! I believe I'd sell my " Centrals " 
 at 75 and turn them into 4 per cents. Hanged if it don't look as if 
 a man with money wasn't safe now-a-days. He's taxed to death ; 
 bled for all sorts of sham enterprises; called mean and lacking in 
 public spirit if he don't subscribe freely; and then dubbed a "big-bug" 
 or an " old aristocrat " for hi* pains. **Big-bug." That means he is 
 a conspicuous prey for every ravenous old gobbler that comes 
 along in the shape of a public enterprise. Hang enterprise ! [Enter 
 Wilks L.) Give me the old fashioned stage coach. It never struck. 
 
 Wilks. And the highwayman declared a monthly dividend of 
 100 per cent plus your valuables. Tut ! tut ! man you never saw a 
 stage coach. 
 
 Blitzen. Who the deuce are you? Wilks Blitzen, by Jove! Why, 
 brother, how are you? {Cordially shakes hands.) When did you 
 come? Have a seat. {Gives JVilks easy chair.) Give an account 
 of yourself, old fellow. 
 
 Wilks. Well, I am here on a visit of several days. 
 
 Blitzen. Good! Wife along? 
 
 Wilks. No. 
 
 Blitzen. Good again ! We'll enjoy ourselves. 
 
 Wilks. What do you mean ? I enjoy myself with my wife better 
 than in anybody else's society. 
 
 Blitzen. Fudge ! {Aside.) Wait till you get a second wife. 
 
 Wilks. I beg your pardon, Walter. Really I had forgotten that 
 I had not seen you since your mariage. Allow me to congratulate 
 you. She seems a very pleasant lady 
 
 Blitzen. Ah, thank you! {Aside.) I need consolation worse. 
 {Aloud) So you've met my wife ? But where in the world, pray ? 
 
 Wilks. Here, in this room. I just stepped out to meet you, but 
 missed you entirely. Your wife and daughter gave me such a 
 cordial reception, that I am surprised you are not happy with two such 
 charming women. 
 
 Blitzen. Wilks, happiness is a grand humbug. « 
 
 Wilks. Ha ! ha ! Not much, it ain't. There are no blanks 
 drawn in life's lottery. If you don't draw an opera-house, you may 
 draw an elephant. 
 
 Blitzen. An elephant ! Now you've hit it. An elephant, whose 
 trunk is a confounded Saratoga, filled with flummer}' and nonsense. 
 
 Wilks. Walter, don't talk about those things. How's Julia ? 
 
 Blitzen. Ah, that's the trouble. {Sadly.) I could stand the other, 
 but Julia, sweet girl ! She is following in the wake of her worthy 
 step-mother. It's dress, and balls, and parties, and receptions, and 
 style till my very head is turned. I hear nothing else. Lord bless 
 me, I dont know the names of the things on my dinner table any 
 more. We talk French entirely. We parley voo. Devil take the 
 parley. { Voice heard outside R, calling, Mr. Blitzen I Mr. Blitzen I) 
 Hear that ! They're calling me. I'm their slave ! I'm liable to duty 
 any hour of the day or night. They want money ; or they want to 
 consult about some useless article they've set their mind on ; or they're 
 diving into some infernal expense. 
 
A FAMILY STRIKE. xox 
 
 m/ks. Keep cool Walter. Keep cool. 
 
 Blitzen. {Jumping up excitedly.) It's true. I'm a ruined man. 
 If this thing keeps up, I'll go into bankruptcy. ( Voices heard again, 
 louder than before.) I wish / could strike. It would do me good. 
 
 Wilks. I wish you could, too. Strike a bonanza, for instance, in 
 our Colorado mine. Have you had any news from our investments 
 in ihe mines? 
 
 Blitzen. Not a line. But I shall hear by to-day's mail, and I feel 
 confident it will be good news. Our superintendent felt sure we 
 should strike a rich lead. 
 
 Wilks. And that will be a strike of the right kind. It's not halt 
 so risky as the one you contemplated a few moments ago. 
 
 Blitzen. Why didn't you bring John along ? I should like to see 
 my nephew again. 
 
 Wilks. That reminds me that he stopped to greet an old chum at 
 the corner store, and has forgotten to come. They'll talk all day, 
 unless something's done. I'll run down and hurry him up. 
 
 Blitzen. Do, and don't forget to hurry yourself up, too. We 11 
 have you some dinner in a few minutes. 
 
 Wilks. I shall not be gone long. Don't inaugurate that strike. 
 Try moral suasion. Call out your reserves. {Exit L.) 
 
 Blitzen. Try the reserves! That's a good idea. There's a ^good 
 deal of unadulterated cussedness stored up in Walt. Blitzen, and I'll see 
 what that will effect. If a crisis must be preci-^ated, I hope it will 
 be a ten strike. 
 
 Enter a Servant with a note which Blitzen reads. 
 
 Mr. Blitzen. Dear Sir: Let us respectfully call your attention 
 to the enclosed bill. The account has been running over one month, 
 and you will excuse our presenting it now, as times are so very close. 
 
 Another bill from that confounded milliner ! I paid a large one 
 a few weeks ago, so this can't be very heavy. {Unfolds a preposterously 
 lon^ bill. Reads itefus.) One hat, with pompon aigrettes, ^50. 
 Fifty dollars for a hat! What on earth is a pompon aigrette? 12 
 yds. torchon lace, @ ^10 per yd., %vio. One Jabot, ^25. One 
 Jabbitt Humph! I'd like to know where they wear that? One 
 collar, Swiss medallions, ^15. Blow me, if there isn't one article I 
 know the name of. Fifteen dollars. That keeps me in collars five years. 
 I won't piy it! /'// not. They can't come that any more. I won t 
 be bankrupted by fashion and milliners ! The milliners may go to 
 Halifax. There's need of a strike right here at home. I'll strike, 
 too. If the iron ain't hot, I'll make it hot. {Brings down his fist with 
 a tremendous thump on the table?) 
 
 Enter Julia Blitzen. R. 
 
 ^ulia. Pa, did you hear ma call? {No answer) It is only three 
 weeks till Mrs. Newfangle's party, and you know we must go. 
 We shall be expected. 
 
I02 A FAMILY STRIKE. 
 
 Blitzen. {Savagely^ Well, who said you couldn't go? 
 
 Julia. Why, Pa ! What ails you, to-day? 
 
 Blitzen. {Excitedly.') Parties ail me! Fashion ails me! Mil- 
 liner's and dressmaker's bills ail me ! Flummery ails me ! What 
 in time else do you want to attack me, for Heaven's sake ? 
 
 Julia. Pa! Pa! You surprise me. You are not well. Don't 
 make yourself uneasy. You are nervous. 
 
 Blitzen. Nervous? I'm not nervous. But it would shock the 
 nervous system of a mummy to attend all these parties and doings. 
 I'm not going. 
 
 Julia. But the Newfangles will be offended if we absent ourselves. 
 
 Blitzen. Go! Go! If you want to. 
 
 Julia. Pa, ma and I will be so sorry to go without you. You 
 remember you promised to go ; and besides, I was to have a new dress 
 specially for that occasion. Remember that, pa. 
 
 Blitzen. Wear one of the dresses you've got. 
 
 Julia. Why pa, I'm shocked ! At this, the most select reception 
 of the season, all the ladies will appear in new dresses, prepared 
 specially for the occasion. 
 
 Blitzen. Your mother called a dress new till she'd had it a year 
 
 Enter Mrs. B. R, 
 
 Julia. Ma, he refuses to get my new dress. I can't go. 
 
 Mrs. B. Then, of course, he will refuse mine, too. Oh dear, you 
 want us to be shabby and unworthy of you. 
 
 Blitzen. Good gracious ! Has it come to this pass, that silks and 
 iaces are necessary to make a man's family respectable and worthy of 
 him ? If it has, I'll leave the country at once. 
 
 Mrs. B Of course not to make us unworthy of you. I meant our 
 friends. What will they say? 
 
 Blitzen. Let them say what they please. I don't see any thing 
 especially worthy about the Newfangles. Newfangle got his money 
 by swindling in army contracts. 
 
 Mrs. B. Don't speak so, dear. Mrs. Newfangle is such a nice 
 woman. Think of her, she'll be so grieved. Can't we have the dresses ? 
 It's only a trifle, you know ? 
 
 Blitzen. If she gets mad over that, let her get mad, that's all. 
 
 Mrs. B. But it's such a small matter, compared with our circum- 
 stances. 
 
 Blitzen. Only a trifle Look at that. {Seizes bill from the table 
 and presents it to Mrs. B.) Do you call that a trifle? I'll be ruined 
 by trifles. 
 
 Julia. {Aside to Mrs. B.) How unfortunate that it should come 
 in just now. 
 
 Mrs. B. Mr. Blitzen, possibly you may remember that when we 
 were engaged, I spoke of the social position we were to occupy. You 
 know I'm fond of society. That was understood, wasn't it? 
 
 Blitzen. Never fully understood till the present moment. 
 
 Mrs. B. You wished some one to bring your daughter out 
 
A FAMILY STRIKE. tOj 
 
 Blitzen. And you've done it, with a vengance. 
 Mrs. B. Yes; I've made an accomplished lady of her. {B. 
 groans.) I had some money, too. You may remember that ? 
 
 Blitzen. I do. {Aside.) She's spent three times the amount. 
 {Aloud.) But I tell you I can't afford it. Times have changed. I 
 have an expensive lawsuit on hand. 
 
 Mrs. B. Which you and Mr. Noodle will win. Mr. Noodle is 
 positive But, my dear, let us not talk about the lawsuit now. You 
 know Mr. Gallivant is coming to-day. 
 
 Blitzen. Don't mention that Gallivant, never again. I forever heai 
 his name. Julia is eternally raving about Gallivant ! Gallivant! 
 
 yulia. Oh pa, you are prejudiced against poor Augustus. 
 
 Blitzen. As I am against monkeys, and other like pests. 
 
 Mrs B. Mr. Blitzen you are worrying over some trouble. Now I 
 have it ! It's the strike. That will soon be settled. It can't effect 
 your securities. 
 
 Blitzen. The strike ! You've guessed it, at last. I say it will effect 
 us. It must. In fact I''ve struck. 
 
 Mrs. B. You've struck ? "What do you mean ? 
 
 Blitzen. I mean, I've taken the most decided step of my life. I 
 can't stand this eternal worry. Fve struck to end it. 
 
 Mrs. B. Mercy on us ! He's struck ! He's ended it ! Julia ,dear, 
 he's compromised in the lawsuit, as he has often threatened,and ruined 
 us. ( Wringing her hands.) We're ruined, 
 
 Julia. Oh pa ! How could you have the heart to do such a 
 thing, and ruin your family ? And poor Gus ! His uncle may obje(A 
 if you should fail to establish the justice of your claim in the case. 
 Oh dear ! ( Wringing her hands.) I'm undone. 
 
 Blitzen. Oh ! So I've raised a deuce of a breeze ! 
 
 Mrs. B. Heartless! {Sobbing.) 
 
 Julia. Cruel, cruel, parent ! ( They turn to R and L sobbing^ 
 
 Blitzen. That was a ten strike for a chance shot. {Aside.) VU 
 play that as long as it will win. They've worried me enough. 
 
 Enter WiLKS L. 
 
 Wilks. (Pauses. Aside.) Here's a time of it. {To Blitzen,) 
 You failed to take my advice, and you see the result, 
 
 Mrs. B. Dear me, and you, too, advised him against this fatal step. 
 
 Wiiks. I did madam, 
 
 Mrs. B. But he will hear no advice. Rash man. It is suicidal. 
 {To Wilks.) Of course we know jj/o«r conclusion. 
 
 Julia. And it is cruel to others who are innocent, 
 
 Wilkes. {Aside.) What the nation has the conclusion of a man 
 who has spent ten years among the savages of Colorado, to do with it ? 
 
 Blitzen. {Aside.) Yes, to Gus — one of Darwin's links. {Aloud.) 
 You mean young Gallivant I suppose. If his uncle can't take care of 
 him, he had better send him to an asylum. 
 
 Mrs. B. Mr. Blitzen ! How shockingly rude. 
 
 Enter Gus L. Julia rushes into his arms, he kisses her. 
 Gus. Dear Julia, we arrived one train sooner than I expected. 
 
I04 A FAMILY STRIKE. 
 
 Blitzen. {Mistakes Gus for his nephew) Why, how are you my 
 boy. You are always welcome in this house. {Shakes hands 
 cordially.) 
 
 Gus. I'm quite well, thank you. How are you, sir? 
 
 Blitzen. First rate, first rate, my boy ! 
 
 Gus. {Aside to Julia.) Ah dearest Julia, your father has relented. 
 He must have found out something favorable to me. But your mother ? 
 
 Julia. {Aside.) Pa surprises me. {Aloud.) Let me iutroduce 
 you to ma, Mr. Gallivant. 
 
 Gus. Happy to meet you, Mrs Blitzen. {They bow and shake 
 hands.) 
 
 Mrs. B. I am glad to welcome you here. {Aside.) Dear me ! 
 What a stupid blunder I made to-day. 
 
 Bhtzen. {To Wilks.) How fond the young folks are of each 
 other. She calls him her ^a//a«/ just as she used to do, wife. I'm 
 glad they have not forgotten old times, 
 
 Julia. {Aside.) What does pa mean? 
 
 Wilks. It seems they are mindful of former meetings. {Aside.) 
 Another mistake. I'll wait for developements. 
 
 Gus. {Aloud.) My dear sir, I shall never forget those days. 
 {Aside to Julia.) He has consented then. 
 
 Julia. {Aside to Gus.) He must have been impressed by your 
 appearance. I Aloud ) Pa, it is strange — {Hesitating) I mean — 
 
 Blitzen. Strange ! What's strange, Julia ? 
 
 Mrs. B. Your conduct and actions, Mr, Blitzen. 
 
 Blitzen. Nothing strange about it, if you refer to what passed a 
 few minutes ago, ^Pve struck, that's all. As I'm the head of this 
 family, the family has struck, 
 
 Mrs. B. Then you mean to say, you've ruined us ! 
 
 Wilks. No, made your fortune. 
 
 Mrs. B. {Starting hopefully.) Ah, indeed ! Then you consent? 
 
 Wilks. Madam, I dont understand you. I have consented to 
 nothing, I assure you. {To Blitzen.) Good, We'll pile up the dust. 
 
 Blitzen. That we will. 
 
 Mrs.B. What can he mean by piling up the dust? {To Gus.) 
 Will you please explain what your uncle means by his strange 
 conduct? He and Mr. Blitzen seem to understand each other, but 
 for the life of me I can't fathom their meaning, 
 
 Gtis. I was not aware that uncle had yet conferred with Mr, Blitzen. 
 
 Blitzen. We have, though, and its all right. He objected, but that 
 made no difference. He'll come round sometime to see things as I do. 
 
 Gus. The deuce he did ! 
 
 Wilks. His uncle! What has he to do with silver mining? 
 Didn't you get news from Colorado? 
 
 Blitzen. No. 
 
 Wilks. Then we are not millionaires ? 
 
 Blitzen. Not that I know of. 
 Wilks. You said v/e had struck. 
 
 Blitzen. I said / had struck, 
 
 Wilks. Concern it, why did you raise a fellow's hopes only to dash 
 them to the ground ! I thought you were talking of silver mmes. 
 
A FAMILY STRIKE. 105 
 
 Mrs. B. Silver mines ! Strikes ! {Glances around.) Objections 
 and agreements! Mr. Blitzen, are you crazy? 
 
 Blttzen. Not a bit of it. I never was saner in my life. 
 
 Gus. I doubt that, if you say you have consulted vi^ith my uncle, 
 for he v^as at his hotel half an hour ago, and I am confident he never 
 saw you in his life. 
 
 Blitzen. {Astonished^ Never saw me.'' "Why, who are you, any- 
 way? Wilks, isn't this your son John? 
 
 Wilks. I never saw him in my life ! 
 
 Blitzen. You haven't. Then who are you ? {To Gus.) 
 
 Gus. I am Augustus Gallivant. I came here to see your daughter 
 Julia. 
 
 Blitzen. The blazes you say ! {Dances around frantically?) 
 What have I done.? I've actually shaken hands with that fellow, 
 called him nephew, and played the dunce generally. 
 
 Mrs. B. You are right, M. B., when you say played the dunce. 
 That's the only pertinent sentiment you've given utterance to in the 
 last half hour. 
 
 Julia. Dear pa, what did you mean when you said you had made 
 an agreement with dear Gus's uncle ? 
 
 Blitzen. Mean? I said no such thing. 
 
 Mrs. B. And did you mean nothing in regard to compromising 
 the lawsuit ? 
 
 Blitzen. I compromised no lawsuit. 
 
 Mrs. B. Then, pray, what did you mean? 
 
 Blitzen. I meant that I'll stand no more of this confounded expense 
 for toggery and nonsense that's of no use under the sun to anybody. 
 
 Airs. B, And all this fuss is about two new dresses. 
 
 Blitzen. Exactly. 
 
 Mrs. B, And you have raised all this disturbance about paltry 
 matter of expense for the clothing of your wife and daughter ? 
 
 Blitzen. There was a last straw that broke — 
 
 Mrs. B. Mr. Blitzen ! 
 
 Julia. Pa! 
 
 Blitzen. Yes, that broke Mr. Blitzen. 
 
 Enter Servant with telegram. Mr. B. opens it and reads y 
 shouts '^hurrah,^' grasps WlLKS by the hand. 
 
 Blitzen, {Reads aloud.) "Have struck a bonanza. Blitzen 
 Brothers control the mine." 
 
 Wilhs. Good! Good! 
 
 Mrs. B. We were always lucky. 
 
 Julia. That's just splendid ! Isn't it, Gus? 
 
 Gus. Allow me to congratulate you on your good luck, Mr. 
 Blitzen. 
 
 Blitzen. Thank you. I think I owe you an apology, Mr. Gallivant, 
 I have not given you a fair chance by judging you, unheard. 
 
 Julia. Pa can't help but like you, Gus. Can you pa ? 
 
io6 A FAMILY STRIKE. 
 
 Blitzen. Well I'm about of your mind, Julia. I waive all object- 
 ions, and consent. 
 
 y«/za.| Oh thank you! 
 
 Blitzen. No thanks necessary. {Aside.) I'll save money by it 
 in the end. Mrs. Blitzen, you may conside'" this strike ended uncondi- 
 tionally. 
 
 Mrs. B. Happy to do so, but you must come down handsomely 
 by way of forfeits. Don't say no. It's settled. 
 
 Blitzen. All right, my dear. I'll run this family as long as I can 
 on a silver mine, and then — 
 
 Wilks. You will strike again. 
 
 Blit7.en. No» lease a gold mine. 
 
 CURTAIL? 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 Ledger, wealthy business man. 
 John Heartsease, " The drunkard.** 
 Trustham, Temperance reformer. 
 Stoughton, Proprietor of the " Shades.' 
 
 WiSHALL. 
 
 Charles Winslow, Express agent. 
 
 Pewpermugg. 
 
 Cantwell, Temperance reformer. 
 
 Billy Stoughton. 
 
 Walter Weston. 
 
 Guzzle. 
 
 Hans Gipfel, Hartsease's gardener. 
 
 Mrs. Heartsease, . 
 
 Engaged in temperance work. 
 
 ASE, ) 
 
 Mrs. Winslow, 
 Susie Heartsease. 
 Katrina Gipfel. 
 
 A policeman, Freddie Stoughton, a beggar girl, 
 Loafers, etc. 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 Anj clothing suited to the station of the wearer. 
 
 STAGE EXPLANATIONS. 
 
 R, means right for the actor as he faces the audience; L, left; 
 C, center. 
 
THE SPARKLING CUR 
 
 .A.OT I. 
 
 Scene I. A room in Heartsease's house, elegantly furnished ; 
 pictures^ etc. ; sofa R ; chairs R and L ; table C, around -which 
 are seated at dinner Mr. and Mrs. Heartsease, Ledger 
 WiSHALL, WiNSLOW, and Susie. 
 
 Ledger. Dear me, daughter {To Mrs. H.), how time flies! 
 Here we are celebrating your thirty-seventh birthday, and I begin 
 to realize that I am an old man. Well, I've seen a goodly share 
 of this world's joys, and some of its trials too; but I've had a 
 little the best of it, and I'm good for a round score of years yet. 
 
 Mrs. H. Certainly, father. You must not think of calling 
 yourself old yet. 
 
 H. Father, don't mention such disagreeable subjects. Bring 
 nau»ht but light hearts to such occasions as this. 
 
 Winsloixj. We can with unfeigned pleasure be light-hearted 
 to-day. 
 
 Ledger. Quite true, sir! Quite true. I don't know what put 
 such disagreeable thoughts into my head, unless it was the remem- 
 brance of the jovial pariies that used to meet on your birthday, 
 Hattie. Those were fine old times, but their familiar faces are 
 gone. There! I'm at it again. John, I'll thank you for another 
 glass of that wme. May be that will mfuse a little more geniality 
 into my lazy blood. 
 
 Mrs. H. Dear father, you are always good company, without 
 wine to cheer you. For years you never tasted it, and were then 
 a kind father and a genial friend. You were amiable and 
 
 Ledger. Hold! daughter, hold! The virtues I possessed must 
 have been more numerous than the evils let loose by Pandora. 
 Am I depreciating.? If so, let me have good cheer, for wme 
 gives life to sociability, just as the October forests show their 
 most gorgeous colors under the gilding of the sun's magic rays. 
 I'm in the October of life. So wine for me, if you please. 
 
 H. Katrina fill Mr. Ledger's glass. 
 
 Mrs. H. But, father 
 
 H. A little for the stomach's sake will hurt no one, wife. 
 
 * Although this play is more effective when appropriate scenery is used, yet 
 amateurs may put it oi. the boards with very little troub e or expense. A small bar 
 is «fc^jjary. To change the pHrlor scene into a street scene, merely remove aU 
 the furniture and the pictures, etc. 
 
no THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 (Katrina fills Ledger's glass.) Winslowfthis is the royal juice 
 of the grape, from the sunny hillsides of France. Take a little. 
 
 Winsloxv. No, thank you. I never drink any kind of liquors. 
 
 Ledger. Signed the pledge, eh, and warm up before breakfast 
 with hydrant water .'' How exhilirating these cold mornings! 
 Have a glass just to honor this occasion. 
 
 Winsloiv. No, thank you. 
 
 Susie. Grandpa, "He that placeth a temptation before another 
 is guilty if that other fall." 
 
 Ledger. Of course, if Winslow is afraid we'll not insist. 
 
 Mrs. H. Mr. Winslow is not weak in refusing, but strong. I 
 admire his courage. 
 
 Susie. So do I. {Glances at WiNSLOW.) 
 
 Wijislotv. With such allies I shall certainly withstand all 
 temptations. 
 
 Wishall. My best wishes for the man who can utter a good 
 honest no. 
 
 Susie. And mine, too. 
 
 Ledger. Of course we know, Susie, where your best wishes go. 
 But I'm surprised at you, Hattie. You'll be a crusader next, I 
 believe. 
 
 Mrs. H. I wish I were one now. 
 
 Ledger. Ha! ha! Who would have thought it, that my 
 daughter would count the glasses of wine that her guests drink.? 
 And even wishes to stand at saloon doors and count those other 
 people drink. Here's to many returns of this day {Drinks. 
 Wishall and H. drink.) Well, now, that's a good joke. Ha! 
 ha! Don't you say so, John.'* 
 
 H. Hattie is in earnest. She furnishes the mathematics of 
 life, and I dispense the humor and poetry. 
 
 Ledger. It's a joke, John, I swear it's a joke. There's a deal 
 of humor about my daughter. She takes it after her father. I'll 
 leave that to Wishall, What do you say, Wishall.? 
 
 W. Sir, I've always thought there was much humor in you. 
 
 Ledger. Ah, I told you so. 
 
 Mrs. H. My jest is earnest, father. 
 
 Susie. Grandpa, humor may be of several kinds. 
 
 Ledger. Such as jolh' humor, genial humor, affectionate 
 humor, dry humor, and sarcastic humor. 
 
 W. And a deuce of a humor. 
 
 Ledger. Your addition to the list was evidently suggested by 
 the pangs of conscience. Ha! ha! 
 
 W. A jest, like a dream, images the heart. So the speeches 
 and features of our friends are but kaleidoscopes in which are 
 phases of ourselves. We see the ever varying patterns, and 
 unskilled, think them things of beauty; but the heart, sometimes 
 more skillful than the eye, discerns what the creature self would 
 gladly hide, and pierces to the motive, and behold the shuffling 
 beads and bits of broken glass. Ihus the thoughts and actions of 
 our fellow men reveal us to ourselves perchance embellished, and 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. rri 
 
 perchance distorted ; plodding the old familiar paths or threading 
 the mazes of a new delight, or startling us in the toils of a master 
 passion. Your allusion to my conscience is but the echo of your own. 
 
 Ledger. Which means, I take it, that my old familiar path is 
 bad humo;. I admit that I have some mettle at times, in tact, 
 I'm proud of it. It was in our family. To some men, it is not 
 best to be too civil. They grow presumptuous on it. 
 
 W . Indeea! And some mtn cherish it as the dearest part of 
 their daily creed never to be civil to certain of tht^ir friends. 
 
 H. Civility is a good stock in trade in my opinion. 
 Winslow. And the market is never glutted. 
 
 Ledger. Some men complain of a want of civility in others, 
 
 when the real difficulty exists in their own peevish sensitiveness. 
 
 Mr. Wishall, you are entirely too thin-skinned {Looks at Wishall ) 
 
 W. But the quills of a social porcupine, or rather an unsocial 
 
 one, may pierce the thickest skin, Mr Ledger. 
 
 Ledger. Social porcupine! Truly an elegant figure. I'll 
 leave it to the company who is the social porcupine on this occa- 
 sion, yourself or myself, Mr. Wishall. 
 
 Mrs. H. Father! gentlemen! Let not all this pleasantry be 
 misunderstood. 
 
 H. {To Wishall.) It's all a jest, of course. 
 
 Susie. Grandpa will have his say always. But we don't mind 
 him. Mr. Winslow, which do you like best, serious folks or 
 funny people. 
 
 Winslow. I like to see the two combined, so that the serious 
 vein may be just deep enough to furnish soil to support occasion- 
 ally an excellent jest. 
 
 Ledger. A jest, did you say .'' {Pours out more ivine and dritiks.) 
 Yes: "We'll all be gay and happy." Coidc, John, give us a 
 song. {Attempts to rise, and staggers back into his seat.) 
 
 Mrs. H. Not at the table! Father, you are ill. 
 
 Ledger. 111! who says I'm ill. Never felt better in my life. 
 Well, we can't sing here; I forgot that. John, we'll smoke'if we 
 can't sing. {Attempts to take cigar from his case and drops the 
 case. Mrs. H. zvhispers to W.) 
 
 H. Father, come to the library, and we'll take a smoke. {Picks 
 up case, and offers his arm to Ledger.) 
 
 Ledger. Yes, certainly ! come Winslow, and you, too, Wishall. 
 I'm of a forgiving nature, come on. I wish we had a drop of that 
 glorious old Bourbon that I sampled for Tipple «& Co. as I came 
 up this morning; glorious it was, I tell you. {Exeunt P,Yi. and 
 Ledger, latter sfnggering and leaning heavily on H.) 
 
 Wishall. {Aside, following ) Must I endure all the ill-na- 
 tured taunts of this drunkard.? {Exit R. All rise Jrotn the 
 table.) 
 
 Mrs. H. Misery ! misery ! must my father become a confirmed 
 drunkard.? 
 
 Susie. Oh, mother! don't call Grandpa a drunkard! It's terri- 
 ble to say that of him. 
 
lia THE SPAR5>:lING CUP. 
 
 Mrs. H. Child, I know it is terrible, but alas! day by day con. 
 viction grows upon me. {^Servant sho-ws tn Trustuam, L.) His 
 habit ot drinking grows upon him while he imagines himself safe. 
 He would scorn to think that Marcus Ledger, the proud and pros- 
 perous merchant, could fall to the level of a common drunkard, 
 and yet I fear the worst. 
 
 Trust hajn. Pardon my intrusion, Mrs. Heartsease. 
 
 Mrs H. Don't speak of intrusion. I need the counsel of 
 yourself and your feliow-workers. 
 
 Trustham Mrs. Heartsease, I heartily sympathize with you. 
 I see every day the sad eftect.^ of rum. Its fascination is more 
 potent for its slaves than the fabled charm of the serpent over its 
 helpless victim. If you would save your father and husband 
 remove the wine from your table. " Enter not into temptation." 
 
 Mrs. H. My husband! May nngels guard him! 
 
 Susie. Mercy, mother! what danger threatens papa. ^ What is 
 it, Mr. Trustham.? 
 
 Winslow. Be calm, Susie. It's nothing. 
 
 Trustham. Under the Providence of God we'll avert all dan- 
 ger, my child. Mrs. Heartsease, are you willing to make this 
 trifling sacrifice, and remove the tempter far from you.? By so 
 doing you will array yourself on the side of temperance and 
 morality. 
 
 Mrs. H. Oh, I'll do anything, anything you ask, so you may 
 save my loved ones. 
 
 Trustham. God alone can do that. But you must work. Here 
 is a notice of the temperance meeting this afternoon. {Hands her 
 notice.) Come, and, if possible, bring your husband and father. 
 Be strong in the right. 
 
 Mrs. H. {Rings for Katrina, ivho appears /?.) My influence 
 must be exerted fur or against temperance. I can no longer 
 remain neutral. I will cast my lot vytli the temperance reformers. 
 
 Katrina. Moost I take away te table oond dings.? 
 
 Mrs. H. Yes; remove the things at once. (Katrina busies 
 herself about table. Picks up goblet -with -wine in it and drinks the 
 wine.) Katrina, we will have no more wine on the table. 
 
 Katrina. No more wine on te table! Vat you say.? Where 
 will we trink him.? In te kitchen.? 
 
 Mrs H. Katrina, we will drink no more wine at all. It is 
 wrong to encourage mtemperance. 
 
 Katrina. No wine at alls! Vat an itee.? Nopody efer got 
 intemperance by trinkin goot wine oond peer. Pad wiskey gils 
 peoples dair intemperance. {Laughs heartily ) Vat an itee ! Vat 
 peoples te Americans bin! {Laughs.) Hans will never work in 
 tegarten all tay mit no wine or peer. He would get te sunhstrike. 
 
 Mrs. H. But wine and beer lead to brandy and whiskey. It is 
 safest not to make the beginning. 
 
 Katrina. Oond vat will us trink, eh.? Shpring wasser ? 
 
 Mrs. H. Yco, pure water supplies man's every want. 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. flj 
 
 Katrina. So I moost carry vasser, noting but vasser from te 
 poomp to make dair tea oond coffee, oond to trink raw. Vat an 
 itee! We all ties mit a bad cold, trinken so mooch cold vasser. 
 {Busies herself at table. ) 
 
 Mrs H. Don't iear, Katrina; we shall be all the better for it. 
 {Exit R. 
 
 IVinslow. Yes; water is the great life giver m all nature. 
 
 Susie. I believe Ma is right about wine drinking. But I never 
 thought of it belore. Then pure cold water is so refreshing. 
 Wine always makes my head ache. I wish Pa and Grandpa 
 would sign the pledge. {Exit Katrina.) 
 
 Winsiow. It is their duty, I think, and for your sake, Susie, I 
 hope they will. 
 
 Susie. {Blushing, drops her eyes.) I hope they will sign it for 
 their own sakes. 
 
 Winsiow. Yes; they owe it to society. Their influence will 
 aid others, and encourage them to take a decided stand. / feel 
 that I need every good mfluence, and every possible safeguard. 
 
 Susie, ro?^ Charles! You, who are above temptation.? 
 
 Winslotv. No one is above temptation, Susie. To-day I feel 
 an addi ional safeguard to my footsteps. When I think of the 
 course you have taken it will nerve me up to walk more deter- 
 minedly in the only safe path, the path of purity and honor. 
 
 Susie. I'm glad that my influence can assist anyone. But 
 come to the parlor, Charles. {Rises and leads to R.) 
 
 Winsiow. I'm very sorry, Susie, to be obliged to hurry ofF on 
 this occasion. 
 
 Susie. What do you mean ^ 
 
 Winsiow. I have pressing business at the office, which I must 
 see to personally. 
 
 Susie. You haid nothing about it before. 
 
 Wijislow. I didn't know it till this morning. 
 
 Susie. Well, it's too bad anyway! 
 
 Winsiow. I must be there at four. {Looks at watch.) Adieu. 
 
 Susie. Good day. {Goes to door L.) Next time you must not 
 hurry yourself away like this. {Exit WiNSLow L, Susie R.) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 Scene II. Parlor in Heartsease's house^ elegantly furnished ; table 
 C. Discovered SusiE seated on sofa R. Pewtermugg seated by 
 table C 
 
 Susie. Yes, the cause is gaining every day. There will be a tem- 
 perance mass- meeting to-morrow. 
 
 P. I hope it will continue pleasant weather for the meeting. I see 
 you are very much interested in the subject of temperance. 
 
 Susie. I am. I do not see how any intelligent person who has 
 given the subject a thought can fail to be interested. 
 
 P. I've thought much lately upon the subject myself, and my heart 
 
114 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 is with the advocates of temperance. It pleases me to think that my 
 friends are on the right side. I am very glad, Miss Susie, that you 
 and your mother have taken sides with the temperance workers. 
 {Passes to sofa and seats himself beside her ) 
 
 Husie. {Quickly.) We should not look at it as a matter oi friend- 
 ship, but as one of duty. 
 
 P But friendship ;ind love strew duty's path with down. Love is 
 a subtle force, l^ut it wields a mighty power. 
 
 Susie. So you would call the temperance reform movement a work 
 of love? 
 
 P, Well, yes. But let us talk no more of temperance at present. 
 Miss Heartsease, I wish to say something to you which 1 have long 
 contemplated saying. 
 
 Susie. [Risijig quickly.) Please don't. If it is a secret I shall 
 tell it. You know it is said a woman cannot keep a secret. 
 
 P. {Rises.) You misunderstand me. What I have to say is a 
 secret, I admit. Nevertheless it is something which you can hear only 
 from me. 
 
 Susie. Please let it pass. My curiosity is dull this evening. 
 
 P. But it is a matter of moment, and I must speak. 
 
 Susie. It is quite unnecessary. 
 
 P. Then some other time I will tell you. I'm in no hurry. 
 Come to think of it, I have an appointment down town. I will call 
 again. {Passing to L.) 
 
 Susie. But in your rounds of temperance work don't come to me 
 with secrets. 
 
 P. Good evening. 
 
 Susie. Good evening. {Exit P, L.) Well, he is a dunce to 
 speak of love in that way. If it was not that he is quite respectable, 
 and really a good meaning fellow, I'd cut his acquamtance on short 
 notice. But if he can take a hint he will not mention that subject 
 again. {Exit R.) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 Scene I. Ledger's counting-room. Wishall seated by a desk wri- 
 ting. Enter Ledger. 
 
 Ledger. Mr. Wishall, are those monthly statements finished ? 
 
 TP. Yes, sir, and sent by this morning's mail. 
 
 Ledger. Have the clerks made out the bills of those goods to be 
 shipped to-day ? 
 
 W. They are hard at work at them, sir. They will be ready m 
 due time. 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. ICKS 
 
 Ledger. All right ! All right ! Nothing like promptitude in bus- 
 iness. I made my fortune by it. 
 
 W. Certainly, sir, A business man must attend to business. 
 Ledger. It is the only ladder to success for the beginner. 
 W. Yes, and attention to business is the only security for the old 
 established house. 
 
 Ledger. Well, that is true in the main. Of course much depends 
 on the kind of subordinates one has. Now I do not give as much at- 
 tention to my business as formerly because I can leave everything with 
 you and depend upon its being done. You have grown up in the bus- 
 iness and understand it from beginning to end as well as a boy under- 
 stands his mother's pantry. 
 
 W. A business should be managed by its owners. 
 Ledger. I suppose then that I should attend to this business myself, 
 or admit you as a partner, eh?. 
 
 W. You do not doubt my capability ? 
 
 Ledger. No; but why should I admit you as partner into a lucra- 
 tive business which I have built up myself? An interest is worth 
 money. 
 
 W. I might ask who owns the ground on which these warehouses 
 stand? 
 
 Ledger. Well, I believe half of it is yours; or will be, at the ex- 
 piration of my lease, twenty years from now. Your share is made 
 valuable by the improvements I have put upon it. Besides I pay you 
 a handsome salary, and you should be satisfied. 
 
 W. You hold the land rent free and reap a golden harvest. Was 
 it equity to obtain the valuable property at a nominal rate by taking- 
 advantage of father's necessities ? 
 
 Ledger. Your father gave the lease to satisfy an honest debt. The 
 land was Valueless then. If I make money out of it whose business is 
 it? , . 
 
 W But did not father expect that I would be made partner in your 
 business, and that some benefit would accrue to me as a recompense 
 for the sacrifice which he made ? 
 
 Ledger. Oh, my dear sir, men often have extravagant expectations. 
 Have a little patience, and wait. 
 
 W (More decidedly) Mr. Ledger, I've waited now twenty years. 
 In twenty years more I shall be an old man. Then riches will do me 
 little good. I ask, is that justice? , , r 
 
 Ledger {More decidedly) Wishall, you could have left me at 
 any time and made your fortune elsewhere. I have not detained you. 
 But your insatiable ambition will not let you rest satisfied. You have 
 been promoted step by step to the highest position in the house. Still 
 you are not satisfied. If you were partne. you would wish to be the 
 chief No, sir, no partnership yet. You have hinted often enough 
 about that matter. Let this be the end of it. When I am ready 1 
 will speak. , 
 
 W. But don't 1 deserve it? You know that I have abilities above 
 the average. Have I not really performed the work of a partner ? 
 
ir6 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 Ledger. Sir, I think you rate your abilities at their full value. Per- 
 haps you do not appreciate mine ? 
 
 W. Mr. Ledger, you are aware that lately you have neglected 
 business. 
 
 Ledger. ( Warmly^ * Because I paid you for attending to it, 
 
 W, ( Warmly. But someiimes you have not been able to attend to 
 it. 
 
 Ledger, {yumps up excitedly.) I understand your insinuation, 
 sir. It is not gentlemanly in a onto refer to that subject. If I take 
 more wine occasionally than you think is proper for me, that is ?7iy busi- 
 ness ; and if I neglect business at times, that is my affair, not yours. 
 
 W. {Angrily.) I claim it is not entirely your own affair. Others 
 have the right — 
 
 Ledger. {In a passion.) Stop, sir! I won't be insulted. Let me 
 never again hear of wine or partnerships, or we part at once. 
 Never again, if you please. {Exit, a7igrily, L.) 
 
 IV. Wine is an unwelcome subject to him. Well it may be, for it 
 has soured his temper, dulled his sense of honor, and will soon ruin his 
 fine business, and make him a burden to himself and his friends. 
 {Goes to work at his desk.) 
 
 Enter Pewtermugg L. 
 
 J*. Good day, Wishall. Hard at work I see. What a busy old 
 hive this is. No drones here. 
 
 W. Well, I should say not. Take a seat. And the workers find 
 little honey among the gall. 
 
 P. Ah, you poor scribblers do have a tough time of it. I couldn't 
 stand It. Wishall, why don't you go into business on your own ac- 
 count? You have a head for business that would make your fortune. 
 
 W. Well, I had thought of it, but in fact I hoped to do better by 
 remaining here. 
 
 P. Yes; I understand Mr. Ledger can't spare you; and then his 
 habits of late will soon compel him to relinquish business. Then you 
 will become partner and the head of the house. 
 
 W. Hold on Pewtermugg. Don't catch your bird till you've made 
 the cage. Ledger intends to be chief here while he lives, fit or unfit. 
 
 P. But it is only a question of time. {Leaning toward JV.) Did 
 you know that he had another attack of apoplexy the day after Mrs. 
 Heartsease's birthday dinner? 
 
 IV. {Starting.) No! {Ibises ajtd paces t/te Jloor.) is it possible I 
 
 P. His physician says he is liable to have another any time, and 
 that he can't survive many of them. 
 
 PV. Horrible ! Horrible ! {Soliloquizing.) He may drop off at 
 any time, and then what means have I of obtaining my just dues? But 
 I'll have them. 
 
 P. The assets will certainly be very large. You are needlessly 
 alarmed, Mr. Wishall. 
 
 W. {Recovering himself .) What was I sayicg ? Something about 
 the estate, I believe. 
 
p. 
 w 
 p. 
 
 sion ? 
 
 THE SPARKLING CUP. "7 
 
 P. Yes ; and I remarked you need have no fears. He will leave a 
 
 large fortune, large. There are heavy claims, but a large fortune will 
 
 -r:''Z:^:^'^t^^^rT^^^^^ soUcitous about the management 
 of the business after his death ? Pewtermu^g 
 
 that Heartsease is a silent partner. 
 
 W. And suppose he is ? , ^ j r .u^ c^r,, 
 
 P He would probably become the head of the firm. 
 
 W \nd Charbe Winslow his partner, it I can ^eU meal from bran. 
 
 ^- Do you really think so? Why do you come to such a conclu- 
 
 Susie will materially assist in bringing such a state of affairs to 
 
 ^^5" Well I think you are a little off in your reckoning there 
 
 W You are off in your reckoning. Anyone could see that the 
 
 ^^^y'^Doii^brtoo'sure' Time will tell. But^e must keep Wmslow 
 
 ^--^^"^"^^^^GuziS--^- He stops at, oor, 
 
 W I don't see that I can do anything honorable m that direction, 
 
 gro^nd^heii (Guzzle gives a knowrng shake of the head and come. 
 
 ^"'cu^il How d'ye do? Hope I don't intrusion ! 
 W. Not at all, Guzzle! 
 
 P How are the folks up at Heartsease s, Guzzle? ,„.,,, 
 
 Guzzle I guess that's about what I came in to ask you, Wishall. 
 W Whatf Don't you live there now? 
 nuzzle Well, no. I've found a higher sphere. 
 ^What's the matter? Any troubled Have you struck for 
 
 '''t'X' Well, you see they had lots of wine the day of the party up 
 there, and it was some new kind. 
 
 P, Old, you mean ^ ^.^^^^ ^^^ ^^^^^ 
 
 The short of it is I don't chore there any more. 
 
 P So Heartsease was drunk, too. 
 
 r^../. Yes • and he's too good a man for that. It s a darned pity 
 I sS;iet^mes thlk I could signihe pledge when I see him reehng as if 
 he'd the blind staggers. 
 
Ii8 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 W. I'm sorry. You had better go back, 
 
 P. But what is your higher sphere, Guzzle ? 
 
 Guzzle. I'm assistant to an architect. 
 
 W. Eh? 
 
 Guzzle. I carry bricks to the third story, and the architect — lays 
 them. You see I'm rising every day; ha! ha ! But how are they up 
 at Heartsease's? 
 
 W. All well. 
 
 Guzzle. Glad to hear it. That's an almighty nice family. {Exit L.) 
 
 P. {Going.) Wishall, remember what we've spoken of to-day. We 
 will talk it over again. It's too bad to see the way Ledger is rushing 
 to ruin. Heartsease is on the same road. His habits will soon unfit 
 him for business, and that may be to your interests. I'm sorry for 
 Heartsease, too. Guzzle is right. He is too good for such a fate. 
 Now if it were that Winslow, hang him ! But he is too cold-blooded 
 to be led very far, though I've seen him take an occasional glass. 
 
 W. That's nothing to his discredit I take a little myself sometimes. 
 
 P. Oh, of course, in a respectable way. So do I, though my mflu- 
 ence has always been on the side of temperance. 
 
 W. Ha! ha! ha! Talk of influence. Influence always leaves 
 precept to follow example. 
 
 P. Has Winslow an appetite for drink? 
 
 W. If he has I hope he will throttle it forever. 
 
 P. Suppose it should be for our interest to invite him to join us oc- 
 casionally in a social glass. 
 
 W, Our interest! Mr. Pewtermugg, two things I will never do. 
 Never will I weaken any soul's faith, or poach on the purity of a human 
 heart. 
 
 P. Oh, of course not. That would be dishonorable. But if he 
 should indulge in a little youthful folly it's his own matter I suppose. 
 Good day {Going L.) 
 
 W. Good day. {Exit P, L.) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 Scene II. Stoughton's saloon, ''The Shades."" Seated B11.LY and 
 Guzzle at cards by a table R. Two Loafers by another table, R 
 playing checkers Stoughton behind the bar. Enter Loafer 
 who staggers up to the bar. 
 
 Stoughton. {Ln a surly tone.) Well, what do you want now ? 
 
 Loafer. Old rye. • 
 
 Stoughton. Get out ; you've had enough to-day. 
 
 Loafer. Nate Stoughton, you did not speak to me so when I wore 
 broadcloth and had plenty of money. Then it was, *' How do you do, 
 Mr. Ihirston? Billy, wait on Mr Thirston. Be quick; the gentle- 
 man 's waiting 1" 
 
 Stoughton. Go to the devil ! 
 
 Loafer. Thank you ; I will not visit you till you are at home. 
 
 Stoughton. Get out, before I kick you out ! ( Turns and arranges 
 bottles,) 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. "9^^ 
 
 Billy (^umpsup.) Euchred, by Jingo ! 
 
 Guzde. No ; euchred by Guzzle. Set em up? 
 
 BUly. What '11 you have ? {Advancing to bar.) 
 
 Guzzle. A little red-eye. 
 
 Loafer. I'll take some of that, too. 
 
 Billy. I heard father tell you to go, some time ago. 
 
 rnafcy And I'll go, when I get my dram. 
 
 i!/1> See here, fid " Nubs," I thu.k you had better go at once. 
 
 Travel, now — lively! , ^ ■, j- \ 
 
 I oafer I won't do it. {Squares in attitude of defense.) 
 S Oh, go. {^ii^iN hustles lum rapidly out L, scuffltng as 
 
 tkfyfo. VEi,?KKmJGG enters L.) There ! I guess you'll go now. 
 
 We don't want such low fellows as you here. (Exit Loafer.) 
 P Good evening, Mr. Stoughton. 
 
 ?;..o/:/lGoo'd evening, ilr. Pewtermugg ! Glad to see you. 
 P What a trial it must be to have such fellows around. 
 Stoughton. Yes; they give 2. respectable place like mine a bad 
 
 ""Z^y. Dad's too easy on 'em. It takes me to settle their coffee. 
 (Gnei behind bar to mix drinks.) . 
 
 ^ Stoug^^^^^^^^^ {Laughrng.) Billy knows how to quiet a rowdy. Im 
 glad of' it, son. It helps me a great deal. 
 
 G/^^e/^. And if such a man is very drunk, Billy am t afraid to 
 
 tackle him. j • 1 ^^ 
 
 /?f7/v Come Guzzle; none of your dry jokes. 
 &. Hur'ry up the drinks, then, if you don't want anymore 
 
 "^'p^^'lt is those low fellows who cause all this evil of intemperance, 
 anyway They know no bounds to their depraved appetites. 
 
 Itolghton. ^ Aye, that's it, exactly. They have gone to such 
 excessef in drinking that many people, ^Z'^'^a^^'^'^TT^I 
 ashamed to take a glass of beer in a saloon. It used to be that a man 
 could take his bitters whenever he pleased. Now it is changed and 
 my business is nearly ruined. In fact, these low ^^^^ards with the 
 aid of a few canting temperance fanatics, have made drinking almost 
 
 disreputable. ,,^ . 
 
 Enter Walter Weston, L. 
 
 Walter Hello ! Stoughton. How are you, pard ? ( To Guzzle.) 
 
 "^^ MmX Wal^^^ be generous. Shall I mix another? 
 
 Walter. Well, yes, seeing it's you. 
 Billy. What' 11 you have ? 
 
 Walter. Crusaders' terror. . , 
 
 Guzzle. Hurry up, Billy; I'«^ ^« ^ry as a hen m a meal WeU 
 Billv Well here's confusion to the crusaders, (r^eyrf^^w^^.j 
 P -"rvfalways been a temperate man, -/, ^ ^^^^^^ l^^^n 
 principles, but /'will drink when I please if I ^^°°f .' ^^^,f ^ ^,^!^ 
 I please ; and people may say what they please about it. I U not sign 
 away my liberty. 
 
I20 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 Stoughton. Ah ! I like to see a man of spirit, who don't carefully 
 weigh every trifle before he dares to give his opinion on a subject. 
 Enter Heartsease, L slightly intoxicated. 
 
 H. Good evening, gen'lmen. 
 
 Stoughton. How are you? I hav'n't seen you for some time. 
 
 Guzzle. By Ginger ! He's on another tear. 
 
 H. A cocktail, Stoughton, 
 
 P. I thought you had sworn off, Heartsease. 
 
 H. Well, 1 did sort of promise those blue ribbon fellows. Hav'n't 
 touched a drop for a week, but I met a jolly old chum down town to- 
 night, and we just took a glass for old times, you know. Have some- 
 thing, Pewterniugg? 
 
 P. {Prete7ids to hesitate^ Well, yes, seeing it's you. But I 
 seldom drink anything stronger than pale ale. 
 
 Guzzle. (Aside.) Unless you're behind the door. 
 
 //. Take something, Stoughton. ( Jliey fill and drink. Notices 
 Guzzle.) Why! here you are, Guzzle. I'm glad to see you. [Busi- 
 ness shaking hands.) Mrs. Heartsease wants you to come back and 
 work for us. 
 
 Guzzle. I'd like first-rate to oblige Mrs, Heartsease, but I'm 
 afeerd, since you've took to cold water up there, that we wouldn't 
 never git along together. My stomach's kinder weak, and cold water 
 goes agin it. 
 
 H. 'S that so ? Excuse me — won't you take something now? 
 
 Guzzle. Don't care if I do. 
 
 H. Come, boys — all of you. We don't meet often. {All come 
 forward ; in their haste one of the loafers knocks the other and the 
 checkers over the floor.) 
 
 1st Loafer. {On the floor.) What the devil are you doing ? {Btisi- 
 ness in getting up.) 
 
 2d Loafer. Never mind the checkers; I'm dry. 
 
 H. Here's to your health, boys ! Give it bumpers ! I guess the 
 temperance folks won't let me have another spree. 
 
 Stoughton. " Enjoy the present," is my motto. {The intoxicated 
 Loafer elbotvs Pkwtermugg.) 
 
 P. {Disdainfully.) Stand back, fellow. {Aside.) Catch me 
 drinking with that crowd. {All drink but P., who slily throws hii 
 liquor into a spittoon .) 
 
 H. That's jolly-hie, boys; j-hic-olly! 
 
 Enter Trustham, L. 
 
 Trustham. On my life ! John Heartsease! 
 
 H. Dick Trustham ! How-hic-are you, old boy ?-hic. G-hic-lad 
 to see you. Give us a shake of that old p-hic-paw. {Business shak- 
 ing hands.) 
 
 Trustham. John Heartsease, this is indeed painful. 
 
 H. Painful! Sick, eh?-hic. Try a little of Sloughton's pain- 
 killer. {Others all laugh ) 
 
 ist Loafer. I don't want no lectur. Buck, let's go. {Exit 
 Loafer St L.) 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. I2i 
 
 Trustham. Heartsease, think of your family. Spare them. 
 Think- of that wife who is now awaiting you at home. 
 
 H, Wailing for me !-hic. I guess not! She's at-temp-hictemp 
 ranee meeting, and they don't go home tiUmor-hic-mornin'. Its jolly, 
 boys ! It's jol-hic-jolly ! 
 
 Trtistham. Mr. Pewtermugg, will you escort him home? I am 
 shocked at this. 1 cant go with him, as I have an engagement. 
 
 P. Mr. Heartease ! Heartsease! Come, let's go home. 
 
 H. Is it mornin'? Yes, we'll all go home in the mornin'. C'mon, 
 boys! {He falls over a spittoon. P. and T. assist him to rise. 
 Exeunt P., and H. Z, H. staggering, and leaning on P's arm.) 
 
 Trustham. How easily man may degrade himself below the 
 brstes, when appetite is his master. Mr. Stoughton, I wish to post a 
 notice here. 
 
 Stotcghton. {Ironically^ Certainly you may. What queer ideas 
 of right you temperance people have ! Ycu come in here with the 
 Bible in one hand, and a tract in the other, preaching charity and good 
 will to men, while your errand is to destroy your neighbor's busmess 
 and ruin him. 
 
 Trtistham. Mr. Stoughton, it is not against you that we wage war, 
 but against the nefarious traffic you are engaged in. 
 
 Stoughton. Who is hurt when you take the bread from my family? 
 
 Trustham. Think of the families whose bread has gone over 
 your bar. 
 
 Stoughton. I don't ask 'em to buy, and I pay a license to sell. 
 
 Trustham . No government can make right what God has made wrong 
 
 Stoughton. Well, I don't propose to argue with you. I never 
 wrote tracts nor lectured. {Steps behind the bar.) 
 
 Tf'ustham. {Turning to the boys) Young men, you are all cor- 
 dially invited to our meetmg. 
 
 Guzzle. I cal'clate we'll be there. We attend meetin's reg'lar. 
 
 Trtistham. Mr. Weston, will you come? Think of that mother 
 who is daily praying for you. 
 
 Walter. I believe I think of her about as often as anyone does. 
 She's the best mother in the city. 
 
 Guzzle. You're right there, unless it's Mrs. Heartsease. If I had 
 such a mother, I b'lieve I'd quit drinkin' jest for her sake. But, then, 
 I cal'clate I'm a fixture here for some time. 
 
 Trustham. Mr. Weston, think what your mother suffers. Don't 
 break her heart. 
 
 Billy . Hearts will stand a good deal of stretchin', and I s'pose 
 Mrs. Weston's is like other people's, pretty tough. 
 
 Walter. {Warmly.) See here, Billy, you and I are friends; but 
 I don't allow anybody to make such remarks about my mother. 
 
 Billy. It seems to me you're mighty techy ! 
 
 Guzzle. Keep cool, boys. 
 
 Trustham. Will you go to the meeting, to-morrow evening ? 
 
 Walter. Maybe if everything is lovely. But I don't .y:^«, under- 
 stand. I don't see sucli a terrible harm in an occasional smile. Gov- 
 ernor says it never hurt him. 
 
122 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 Trustham. And yet it may be destruction to you. " Enter not 
 into temptation." 
 
 Stoughion. Trustham, isn't it enough for you to come in here, 
 sticking up your bills, without meddling with my customers ? I prefer 
 that you do your talking somewhere else. 
 
 Trustham. Certainly, if you prefer it, I will not talk here. Good 
 evening, gentlemen. {Exit Z.) 
 
 All. Good evening. 
 
 Walter. Come, boys, let's take a look round town. 
 
 Billy. All right. {Exeunt L. Stoughton behind bar, arranging 
 glasses^ etc) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 Scene III. Heartsease's house. Present, seated. Heartsease, L 
 
 of table; Mrs H., R of table; SusiE on sofa, R; Trustham L; 
 Hans and Katrina standing L. 
 
 Trustham. Mrs. Heartsease, this is indeed encouraging. Five 
 hundred signers to the pledge in one week ! 
 
 Mrs. H. And then you have met with so much encouragement and 
 sympathy from those who have heretofore stood aloof. I wish I could 
 take a more active part in the work. 
 
 Trustham. Mrs. Heartsease, there is much that you can do. En- 
 courage the fallen ones socially. In that direction lies the secret of 
 our strength. Make them think they are worth saving, and then it will 
 be easier to save them. They need sympathy and kindness more than 
 lectures and advice, though they will need these. Mr. Heartsease, I 
 always carry a pledge-book with me. Will you not sign to day ? 
 {Rises and places book on the table.) 
 
 Airs. H. Do, husband ! Please, do not longer delay. At this time 
 there should be no room for doubt. ( With tears.) Remember poor 
 father's last words. Shall that terrible death-bed scene be forgotten 
 in a few weeks? He saw, alas too late, the evils of intemperance. 
 
 Trustham. It will strengthen your resolutions, and prove a guar- 
 dian, should temptations assail you. 
 
 Susie. Yes, father; I have signed, and you are left alone. 
 
 H. Where my family goes, I go. (Signs.) 
 
 Mrs. H. Thank God ! saved at last ! 
 
 Trustham. Be ever vigilant. Even pledges have failed in the hour 
 of need. 
 
 Susie. Father will never break his pledge, I know. His honor is sacred. 
 
 Hans. {Aside.) Veil, I dond know; somedimes dot bledge-baper 
 tears pooty easy. {Aloud) Is dair wine put down in dot bledge ? 
 
 Trustham. It includes all intoxicating liquors. 
 
 Hans. Schnapps ? 
 
 Trusthafn. Yes. 
 
 Hans. Oond cider ? 
 
 Trustham. Yes, sir. 
 
 Hans. Oond gin ? 
 
 Trustham. Certainly ! 
 
 Hans. Oond lager ? 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. 123 
 
 Trustham. Certainly, sir. ^// alcoholic beverages 
 
 Hans Gott in hkrimel ! I signs no bledges. I coot sign a 
 
 prandy oond ivisky bledges, shoost to blease dem demperace beoples 
 
 Dander und hagelvetter !— vat coot a mm drink, mit his pretzels? 
 
 Oond no vinegar on his sauerkraut, maype ? Katrina, don'd you sign 
 
 no l)ledges. , , , 
 
 Katrina. We don'd need no bledges to keep demperance, ven de 
 
 wine is dook from de table off. ^ , t 1 • r i- i j 
 
 Hans Wine from de table avay ! So ! Oond I bin feelin bad 
 ofer since Ach! himmel! Man nefer heai of de like of dot in a 
 shentleman's house in faterland. Say, Meester Heartease, moost 1 
 hoe, oond trim de vines in de garten all tay, oond trink vasser ? 
 
 Mrs H We can't encourage intemperate habits, Mr Uiptel, in 
 our servants. They should save their money, and preserve their health. 
 
 H'ln^ Oond vat is belts eef a man musf be always dry? Mine 
 laper cost me ten cent in de forenoons day, oond ten cent in de alter 
 day if vou dakes de wine away. Zwanzig cent I pays etery tay. 1st 
 dot de 'vay to encourage a poor mans? Dot brakes me alltogedder oop. 
 (Exeunt Hans, R, and Katrina Z.) 
 
 Trustham. Th's man foolishly spends for lager twenty cents a day, 
 no inconsiderable item for a poor man. 
 
 Mrs H. And gets for it nothing in return. 
 
 Trustham Nay, worse than nothing; for even this seemmgly 
 harmless lager dulls the intellect, deranges the stomach, bloats the body, 
 deadens the senses, and makes the hapless devotee play the clown to 
 
 "^'1 TT^l: ''^1t:Zt\E.a H. W T., L. MRS. H. 
 and Susie, Ji.) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 J^OT XXX. 
 Scene I . A street. Enter, meeting Wish all Z, Pew termugg R. 
 
 P. Good evening, Wishall. This is lucky. I've been looking 
 
 for vou. 
 
 W Well, what is it? I'm in a hurry just now. ^ 
 
 P." Oh, don't be in a hurry. It is only a little matter of busi- 
 
 W. Blow it, I've no time now to talk business. {Attempts to 
 
 ^"p icr'.ssimr before him.) Wait a minute. You remember 
 our conversation some time ago in regard to Winslow? 
 
 W. I do, and I gave you my answer. I'll be no party to such 
 baseness. 
 
 P Have vou met him in a convivial way? 
 
 W YesTbut not in the way you suggested, and I never will. 
 
124 THE SPARKLING CUP 
 
 F , Don't make any rash assertions, for you may change your 
 mind. Yoi are aware that the firm of Ledger & Heartsease paid 
 out 'ireial iarge sums ot money to various parties the day before 
 Ledger's vicji.th, and the day of his death. 
 
 W. Well, what of it, Mr. Pewtermugg? 
 
 P, Wc sLail see soon enough. Give me a little time. One 
 check oi $5;000 was paid to you, I believe. 
 
 W . {Sta/tittff.) How did you find that out.? 
 
 P . Tli.i /ou will learn in due time. You received the money? 
 
 W\ I aid". 
 
 P. For what did Mr. Ledger pay you so large a sum at once? 
 
 W. ( Wtth dignity.) That is my business, sir! 
 
 P. It 7nay be the business of some one else too. 
 
 W. Ledger owed me, of course, Pewtermugg. 
 
 P. Yes; in justice, but not in law. 
 
 W. (Warmly.) What do you mean sir? 
 
 P. Keep cool! Keep cool! You see I know considerably 
 more about some things than you give me credit for. 
 
 W. {Starting,) What! (Recovering.) Yes, by impertinent 
 meddling! 
 
 P. It is better for us to be friends^ Wishall, so keep cool. 
 You know my brother is cashier in the Merchants National Bank, 
 and what he knows of course I'm not entirely ignorant of. 
 
 W, (Greatly agitated.) Stop! For heaven's sake say no 
 more. 
 
 P. We might as well have a clear understanding. I refer to 
 that check. 
 
 W. Does the Bank suspect anything? 
 
 P. Suspect! They know all. Through the intercession of a 
 friend the matter is hushed up and the check paid. 
 
 W. I'm a ruined man! Oh that fatal step! Why did I not 
 trust to the generosity and justice of tlie new firm. 
 
 P. Hush, man! It is a clear case of forgery, but you are not 
 ruined. As I said a friend has made everything right. 
 
 W. Thank God for that! Pewtermugg, give me your hand. 
 (They shakfl hands.) I can not express my gratitude to you for 
 this. (Enter Guzzle unobserved L.) But I did not know you 
 had fjo much ready money. You must have wronged yourself 
 in doing this. I'll make it right with you. 
 
 P. Oh, I — don'<- mention it — I — Yes, I have a little money. 
 Shall we be friends? 
 
 W: (Hesitating.) Yes. 
 
 /*, Good! You have influence with Winslow. If he should 
 form intemperate habits, Heartsease will soon see that he is not 
 the man for a partner, or son-in-law either. Heartsease has 
 already badly crippled his business. You are a necessity there, 
 and he knows it. He must soon admit you as partner. When I 
 am a member of his family of course I will stand next in succes- 
 sion, 
 
 W' Yes, if there's anything left by that time. 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. 125 
 
 P, You must look out for that. Keep an eye on Winslow, 
 {Going L.) anil be jovial in his company. {Exit L. Exit W, R.\ 
 
 Guzzle. Oho! What's old Pewtcrpot up to now, 1 wonder? 
 Settm' up some job on Winslow I'll bet. Darn my socks if Winslow 
 aint the best of the two, by a long chalk, if he does take a dram 
 now and then without goi'n' behind the door to drink it, as Pew- 
 terface does. I guess I'll jest keep an eye on this ere job. {Exit 
 R.) 
 
 Scene II. A street. Enter Heartsease i?, Cantwell Z, metU 
 ing. 
 
 H. Good evening, Mr. Cantwell. 
 
 C. Good evening, Mr. Heartsease. How do you do? 
 
 H. Quite well, thank you. How are you progressing in the 
 temperance work ? All goes well, I hope? 
 
 C. {In a tone of canting piety.) With God's grace, it does. 
 This is the Lord's work, and I have never before feit the burden 
 of serving Him so light as at present. It is blessed to give good 
 counsel, and strengthen the doubting one. I really believe I shall 
 take a short trip, delivering lectures in the neighboring villages, 
 if the committee can see the way clear toward paying my 
 expenses. They have it under advisement now. Really, it would 
 be a nice little trip for me. 
 
 H. And you expect the Lord to advance cash to meet current 
 expenses, while you are tilling his vineyard? 
 
 C. Certainly, if I donate my time. The Scriptures say tha 
 ♦•Laborer is worthy of his hire." 
 
 H. Let's look at that passage in a business point of view. 
 
 C The Bible is the only sate guide in business or out of it. 
 
 H. But you will at least allow a man to interpret the Scripture- 
 in a business-like way. 
 
 C. {Somewhat petulant. \ Bother to interpretation! Plain Eng- 
 lish is not hard to interpret. The good Book f=ays, "The laborer 
 is worthy of his hire," and that is enough fc r me. 
 
 H. Very good. It also says, •' He that hath pity upon the poor 
 lendeth to the Lord." Now, Mr. Cantwell, you will admit that 
 drunkards are mostly poor men. 
 
 C. Yourself, for instance! 
 
 H. {Sarcastically.) Myself! So you set me down as a 
 drunkard! 
 
 C. Oh, not now, certainly. I do not for a moment doubt the sin- 
 cerity of your reform. I beg your pardon. I meant no offense. 
 
 H. Then don't use offensive language. If you are going to 
 bring up everybody to your stiff-necked notions of propriety you 
 will find that your work as a reformer will be a miserable failure. 
 
 C. Really, Mr. Heartsease, I beg pardon. I do not wish every 
 man to conform at once to my ideas. I am willing to go down to 
 them, and counsel with them, and comfort them. 
 
 B. Counsel and comfort are sweet to a starving man ! Ho\r 
 
126 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 much did you subscribe to the Library Association fund? 
 
 C. '^Suddenly drops his canting tone.) Ahem! ahem! Well, 
 as soon as that is really set on a secure basis, I will help it liberally. 
 
 H. As soon as its success is assurr-d you are willing to help. 
 I'm sorry I could not give it five times the amount I did subscribe, 
 for I think, it will prove one ot the most effective agents in the 
 temperance work. 
 
 C. Mr. Heartsease, I cer ainly am willing to help any laudable 
 enterprise, or any person who really needs help, and is Asorthy of 
 it. {Resumes canting ione.) I am only the steward of what the 
 Lord has placed in my hands. 
 
 H. I am glad you have said so, for I happen to need a small 
 loan myself. 
 
 C. {Feigns surprise.) Ton need a loan! a rick man like you I 
 
 H. Rich men are sometimes embarrassed. 
 
 C Do you speak seriously .? 
 
 H. Seriously. 
 
 C. How much do you need.? 
 
 H. I need four or five thousand dollars. One thousand, with 
 some collections I hope to make, would pull me through. 
 
 C. Really, I keep very little money deposited on call. I have 
 made some investments. Now, Shaver would let you liave it in 
 a minuie. He keeps money for such purposes. 
 
 H. Oh, I see; with your endorsement. Thank you. That 
 will do as well as the cash. 
 
 C. {Quickly.) No! no! you misunderstood me. I made a 
 solemn vow years ago that I would never endorse for any man. 
 
 B. Then 1 advise you to keep your vow. ( Turns toward L.) 
 Good evening. 
 
 C. Good evening, Mr. Heartsease. {Exit R.) 
 
 II. I knew before I asked him that he would refuse. If it is 
 so hard for a man of means and good social position to reform, 
 what must it be for the poor miserable outcast! Many of my old 
 and tried friends treat me coolly because ot the bland I have 
 taken, and because my wife is an active temperance worker. 
 Most of my new friends look on me much as they would on some 
 dangerous "wild beast they had just captured. It's well enough to 
 use soothing words, backed by formidable quotations, but don't get 
 too near the dangerf)us beast. Without help, I must go to the wall. 
 I can't stave this oft" much longer, the way they are pushing me 
 now. {Starts toward L.) 
 
 Enter Pewtermugg L, meeting H. 
 
 P. Good evening, Mr. Heartsease. 
 
 H. Good evening. Mr. Pewtermv.gg. Glad to meet you. 
 
 P. And I'm glad to meet you. How's Susie.? 
 
 //. Quite well. Pewtermugg, I'm in a hurry. I must raise 
 some money before ten to morrow. Do you think I could arrange 
 it with your brother.-* 
 
 P. How much do you need.? 
 
 H. I must have a thousand. 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. 127 
 
 P. You know I have a little money. I believe I could let you 
 have that amount for a lew days. 
 
 Ji. Hello! You're the man I want. When can I have it? 
 
 P. I'll give you a check now, and you can get it cashed in the 
 morning. Let's go into the "Shades," across the street, and Fll 
 write it out. 
 
 H. I'd rather not go in there. I've signed the pledge, 
 
 P. Tut, man! We're not going in to drink. 
 
 H. I know, but some of my old chums will be sure to be there. 
 
 P, What of that.? You are not afraid of them. Set them an 
 example of total abstinence. Can't you trust yourself.? 
 
 H. I guess I can. I must learn to rtsist temptation. 
 
 P. You're right there. Come! (Aside.) This loan will bind 
 him to me. I'll secure an interest in the business, and then the 
 girl is mine. (Exeunt J^.) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 Scene III, Interior of the ^^ Shades.'''' Seated by table R^ mji'EX^. 
 Weston and Guzzle at cards. Loafers R and L, Billy 
 behind the bar. 
 
 Enter L, Wishall and Winslow, latter slightly intoxicated. 
 
 ' Winslotv. {Advancing to bar .) What'li you have, Wishall? 
 
 "W. I'm not particular. 
 
 "Winslow. I am. I want something that will invigorate the 
 «ystem this cold evening. We'll lake a little "death on the door- 
 step." 
 
 W. No; not for me. I'll take a julep. 
 
 Winsloiv. Of coure you want something mild. Tou have to look 
 after your palpitation a little, old boy. I don't. I've a clear con- 
 science, a light heart, a thirsty throat, and 
 
 Guzzle. (Aside.) And an empty head. 
 
 IVinsiow. But here goes. There's no time for long stories. 
 {Tfiey drink) 
 
 Enter L, Heartsease and Fewtermugg. 
 
 Winslotv. Hello, old pard! (Shakes H.'s katid. Staggers 
 slightly.) How are you? I haven't seen you for a long time. 
 (P. tvrifes at the bar.) 
 
 H. Tliat's so. Why don't you come up sometimes? We 
 should be glad to see you. 
 
 Winslow. Confound it! I Fact is, I'm too deuced busy. 
 
 Have a smile? 
 
 H. No; I've signed the pledge! 
 
 Winslotv. Bully for you, old boy. 
 
 H. Winslow, hadn't you better go home? 
 
 P. (Aside.) He'll soon be a confirmed drunkard! Then for 
 my plans. 
 
128 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 Winsloiv. Home! Did you say? {Tries to sing** Home, sweet 
 //ome;" Jatls.) 
 
 Billy, bite here, we can't have this racket in here. Winslow, 
 you'd better go home. They're crusadin' to-night, an' I want it 
 quiet 
 
 IVinslow. Zat so? Let em crusade! Say, Jack, old boy^ 
 smile, won't you? {Noisily) Set em up, Billy. Set em up. 
 
 F. {Hands H. check he has -written on the counter.) Here's your 
 check. Heartsease. Why what ails you, man? 
 
 H. I don t feel well. The smell of the liquors has affected me. 
 My God! why did I risk mysell in here! What will wife say?- 
 I'm Mck, help me home! (Sinks into a chair.) 
 
 Winslow. I say John, old boy, you don't feel well. This is 
 glorious brandy. It will revive you. Your pledge says nothing 
 about medicine. {Puts glass to H.'s lips. He drinks.) 
 
 Wisliall. Winslow, for shame, dtsist. 
 
 Walter. I say, Winslow, that's too bad. You've ruined that 
 man. 
 
 P. He hasn't violated his pledge yet. He's sick. 
 
 Ouzzle. I cac'late he will break that pledge- of his'n in two 
 minutes, more or less, when that tiger's milk touches bottom. 
 I've felt jes' so, and it always takes more of the same stuff to set 
 a feller riglit. Cut for deal. 
 
 H. {Looking wildly around.) Where am I ? I remember now.. 
 "What ails me? My veins are bursting. Brandy! Give me 
 brandy? That will ease my pain {Rushes to counter and gulps 
 down a glassful.) There! now I feel better. Glorious brandy I 
 Ah, it lilts a man from the dull earth to soar among the fleecy 
 clouds. 
 
 Guzzle. To fall into the gutter kerchunk when he lights! 
 
 H. I'm better now. Great God, my pledge! My honor! Oh^ 
 it will kill Hattie! I'm ruined! 
 
 Wishall. His words are prophetic. 
 
 Winslow. You're all right, old boy! 
 
 H. I'm ruined; give me drink. {Billy ^ours out another glass 
 of brandy.) 
 
 P. {Aside.) The fool will ruin himself, and spoil my plans. 
 You've had enough, Heartsease. Let's go home. {Atiempts to 
 prevent him from drinking.) 
 
 H. I ;««5/ have it. {^eizes the glass and swallows its contents. 
 Rushes out R, followed by P. and Winslow.) 
 
 Wishall. Another man gone to ruin ! He's too noble by far for 
 such a wretched fate. He is the very soul of honor, and when he 
 realizes that he has broken his pledge I fear the consequences 
 will be terrible. Curse the fates that throttle men with the demon 
 of drink. And I've stood by and seen these men dragged to ruin. 
 Nay, worse, I have drawn them into the pit by my presence and 
 example, arrant coward that I atrt. It would take ti'e tongue of 
 a Cicero to heap upon me the scorn of honest inen did they know 
 me. The reckoning for this must be terrible. {Exit L.) 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. 129 
 
 Guzzle. I guess it won't though; nothing but a splitting 
 headache and a curtain lecture. 
 
 Biliy. Yes ; you can bet on the lecture when that old woman 
 of his'n finds it out. She's a reg'lar old stump speaker. 
 
 Guzzle. Billy Soughton, there haint no nictr woman in the 
 town than Mrs. Heartsease, norabetter man than John Heartteusc. 
 
 Walter. That's so. 
 
 Guzzle. She's helped me out of many a scrape, and the fellow 
 who runs her down to my face has 10 be a better man thr.u ine, 
 that's all. 
 
 Billy. Humph! didn't you talk about her.!* 
 
 Guzzle. That's my business, not yours. 
 
 Billy. And it's niy business what / say. My tongue's m/ own. 
 
 Guzzle. And the darndest, meanest piece of property >?vcr a 
 man owned. 
 
 Billy. Guzzle, you're drunk. 
 
 Guzzle. {Jumps up, and advances toivard the bar.) See here, 
 young man, if you know when your pulse is steady, you'U. iust 
 close that slit under your proboscis, or I'd close it quicker thaa a 
 steel trap. 
 
 Btlly. If you're too drunk to behave, get out. 
 
 Walter. {Rises, and advances to bar.) Boys, this has gone far 
 enough. 
 
 Enter Stoughton R. 
 
 Sfoughton. What's all this row.? {To Waller.) Get qriiet. 
 Put away those cards. The crusaders are coming. 
 
 Waller. Not if 1 know it, I don't. I won't act hjpocritt for 
 anybody. 
 
 Stoughton. Devil take the luck ! I wish they would iXi.y at 
 home and attend to their own business. 
 
 Enter L Mrs. H. and Mrs. Winslow. 
 
 Mrs. H. Mr. Stoughton, we have come to visit your pirice on 
 our rounds. 
 
 Stoughton. Very well. 
 
 Mrs. W . Have you any objection to our leaving some tracts 
 on your tables.-* We have done so at other places. 
 
 Stoughton. I guess there'll be no objection. 
 
 Mrs. W. As secretary of the County Bible Society, I v/ish 
 to leave some copies of the Bible in your place. 
 
 Btlly Oh, yes; Charlie will need them. 
 
 Stoughton. Boy, remember you are talking to ladies. 
 
 Mrs. H. Mr. Stoughton, I particularly wish you to read this 
 tract on the " Evils of Intemperance." 
 
 Stoughton. I know enough of them already. 
 
 Mrs. H. I daresay ; but read the views of others ; and you, ':oo, 
 Mr, Guzzle. {Gives htm a tract.) 
 
 Guzzle. Thank you, Mrs. Heartsease. 
 
 Mrs. H, Mr. Guzzle, you are degrading your manhoud in 
 
I30 
 
 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 resorting to such places; and you, too, Mr. Weston. Come to 
 our meeting, and sign the pledge, won't jou? {Gives him a tract.) 
 Your father has signed. 
 
 Walter. Hello! The governor's surrendered at last! That 
 will do for him, but boys like fun, 
 
 Mrs. H. Seek other amusements. I wish I had time to talk 
 to vou, boys. 
 
 Billy. Better go home and talk to your drunk husband. 
 
 Stoughton. Billy, confound you. Keep a civil tongue! 
 
 Mrs. H. {Greatly agitated.) Oh, what is the matter.? Some- 
 thing dreadful! 
 
 Billy. He went home drunk to-night, was all. 
 
 Mrs. H. Merciful Father ! must I drain again this cup of 
 shame and bitterness! 
 
 Mrs. W. Don't despair! There must be some mistake. Let 
 us still hope. 
 
 Billy. No mistake at all, Mrs. Winslow. Your son Charles 
 can tell you all about it. He was in the same boat. 
 
 Mrs.W. Alas, my son! Has he yielded again, despite a 
 mother's warning! 
 
 Mrs. H. Some traitor has betrayed my husband. He never 
 would voluntarily break his pledge. We must go to them at 
 once. {Exeunt L.) 
 
 Billy. I guess that puts an end to their preachin' and singin* 
 for a few hours. 
 
 Guzzle. {With anger ^ Bill Stoughton, you're a low, dirty 
 skunk, and if ever you talk about them ladies agin, and I hear 
 it, I'll tan your skunk skin for you. Mind that. 
 
 Loafer. Go it grea'^ers ! You're a trump, Guzzle. 
 
 Guzzle. Darn me if I wouldn't sign that pledge now, just to 
 help them women aiong. 
 
 Billy. You're a healthy specimen to talk about sign in' the 
 pledge. You be. 
 
 Guzzle. I cac'late I am healthy. Want to heft me.? Sing out 
 if you do. 
 
 Stoughton. Mr. Guzzle, I don't wish any disturbance here. I 
 don't ai ow such talk about any member of my family in my 
 presence. 
 
 Guzzle. Come on, Walter. {Going L.) I can't stay here for 
 fear I'll be tempted to slap that consarned mean puppy. Let him 
 insult a woman ! It's safe to do that I calc'late. {Exeunt Walter 
 and Guzzle L. Scene changes.) 
 
 Scene IV. A street. Enter Pewtermugg, Z, -with an old express 
 pouch U7ider his arjn. 
 
 P. So Winslow has signed the pledge, and reformed. Well, I 
 suppose his reformation will last about as long as Heartsease's did. 
 But Wmslow can't shake off the bad odor of his late revels all at once, 
 I assure him. {Enter Guzzle, unobserved^ L.) The old 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. 131 
 
 " Give a dog a bad name, and you might as well hang him," will hold 
 good in his case, I guess. His gaming will not help him in case of 
 trouble. The Express Company know of his weal^ness, and will spot 
 him at once. I took care that they should not remain in ignorance. 
 I've worked up a case for them. This is a gkiriuus night for tlie trial 
 of my plan. VVishall the coward, wouldn't join me, but his tongue is 
 tied on that little clieck business ot his. To-morrow I shall be in pos- 
 session of ^25,000, and Winslow will be in a felon's cell. Then Miss 
 Susie may prate about her heart's being another's, and John Heartsease, 
 the bankrupt, may go to the devil. Susie will be welcome to her jail- 
 bird. He'll have plenty of time and good quarti. rs, to reform in. iSlow 
 for revenge, and fortune at the same time. It's a bold strike, and the 
 stakes are fortunes and reputations. But I've never failed yet. 
 Heartsease and Winslow have snubbed me like a dog, but I'll be even 
 with them yet. If i scent danger, a turn in Europe will be good for 
 my health. Ha! ha! {Exit R.) 
 
 Guzzle. {Coming to C.) Well! Jerusalem Crickets! If that 
 don't beat snake-fightin', as we used to say, down where I was raised. 
 What the tarnation is old Pewterpot up to ? Darn me ! if he don't 
 run his ugly mug into something too hot for pewter, I'll treat. {Exit R.) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 ^GT I"V. 
 
 Scene I. Interior of the'' Shades P Card-ptaying at table, R\ at 
 laySeated around a table, WALTER, Hans and Heartsease at 
 cards. At lejt of bar a large placard, containini^ in large letters, 
 " %5^ooo Revjard I — Robbery of the American Express CoP 
 
 Vf' alter. { Throwing down cards.) Ha ! ha ! It's your treat, 
 Hans! Hurry up! Dutchy, my mouth waters for one of Billy's 
 famous cocktails. 
 
 Hans. Mydreat? How ist dot? I don'd understhand him. 
 
 Walter. Set 'em up, Sauerkraut, and no music ! 
 
 Billy. That's all fair, Hans ; you lost. 
 
 H. And don't be so confounded slow making up your mind. Old 
 Kraut Tub ! 
 
 Hans. Veil, vat you hafs, shentlemens ? 
 
 Walter. Old bourbon ! 
 
 H. I'll take brandy, straight. That cuts the red wood every time. 
 
 Hans. Ein glass lager. {All laugh.) 
 
 Walter, Try Saratoga water, Hans. That's good for a weak 
 stomach. 
 
 Hans. Ach ! you fellows tink you are long-headed ; but I am tick 
 trou de eyes, 
 
 Billy, Through the skull, you mean. 
 
j^32 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 Hans. Yaw ! yaw ! trou de eyes. De prandy burns oop te stom- 
 achs oud, oond der lager keeps der indernal arrangemendts cool. 
 
 Walter. Dutchy, let's have a song. 
 
 Hans. I sings no songs. ^ , . , 
 
 //. Come, Hans, a song hie for auld-hic lang syne. 
 
 Hans. I nefer trinks dot ! Vat ist dot ? 
 Enter Guzzle, L. 
 
 Walter. Hello, Guzzle ! where have you been ? I've not seen you 
 for two whole hours. 
 
 Guzzle. I've had a little private cipherin' to do to-day. 
 
 'Walter. Got something on the string ? 
 
 Guzzle. Yes ! 
 
 H. Boys, let's take something. {Fumbles in his vest pocket) I've 
 just five dollars left, but that will last lill my friends ante again. Jolly 
 good friends I have hie. There's Dick Trustham-hic. He gave me 
 this. Jolly old boy, Dick is. Come! 
 
 Walter. My motto is never refuse wine in Paris. 
 
 Guzzle. Nor whiskey in Cork ! 
 
 Loafer. {Looking up from cards) The divil ye say ! Bad luck 
 
 to ye. 
 
 H. What'll you have, boys ? {Beckons to Loafers in R.) Come 
 • on, and be social. {All rush up eagerly, and drink.) 
 Walter. Heartsease, give us a song. 
 
 H. By Jove ! I will. Why didn't I think of that sooner ? {Sings 
 in a boisterous jnanner.) 
 
 «« When I was single T made the money jingle, 
 And the world went so easy with me then, O then. * 
 
 ^ Billy. See here. Jack Heartsease, if you are going to make a night 
 of it, go somewhere else, and don't disturb a decent neighborhood. 
 
 Walter. Ha! ha! Let's drink to the virtues that flourish under 
 the roof of the " Shades." 
 
 jst Loafer. See here ! That point is mine. 
 2d Loafer. No it ain't — the last trick was mine ! 
 I St Loafer. You 'nigged ! 
 2d Loafer. You're a liar! 
 
 jst Loafer. You're a cheating blackguard ! ( They begin to fight. ) 
 Walter. Go it, plug-uglies? 
 
 Billy. Look here ! you knock-kneed mule-drivers ! I won't hav« 
 this row. {Separates them.) 
 
 E nter Cant well, L. 
 C. What a shocking sight for the eyes of an enlightened gen^- 
 ration ! 
 
 Guzzle. Of vipers ! Won't you take somethmg ? 
 C. Young men, "Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging." 
 «* Flee from the wrath to come." I come to you on a mission of mercy, 
 in the name of temperance. 
 
 Walter. A lamb among wolves ! {All laugh) 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. 133 
 
 C. Young men, this levity is indeed dreadful among those who are 
 lianging on the brink of such a feailul precipice. Listen to the voice of 
 truth, and follow the light of reason. 
 
 Billy. 01 1 man, give us a rest on your preachin'. I guess the light 
 oi your reason is nolhin' l)ul a tallow clip in a tin lantern. 
 
 C. Alas! are the sacrifices of myself and Mr. Trustham in your be- 
 half all in vain? 
 
 Guzzle. Don't mention your efforts in the same breath with Dick 
 Trustham's. His are at a premium, but your pesky old paper is pro- 
 tested long ago. You like scripture, — I'll give \ou a text. "Woe 
 unto you Scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites ! for ye devour widows' 
 houses, and for 1 pretense make long prayers," You know the rest. 
 Hadn't you better lower your rents before you talk temperance? Re- 
 form like charity begins at home. 
 
 C {Groans.) Oh, Lord, " They are a perverse generation." Pity 
 these p )or blind worms. 
 
 Waller. Deacon, we've heard that about the woi^ms before, 
 
 Billy. Don't worry the poor reptiles and cast up iheir blindness. 
 They were made blind «)n purpose so they could'nt see the sins of a 
 perverse generation. Tell us about the wolf in sheep's cloLhing. This 
 IS an experience meetin'. 
 
 C. {Groans.) Ripe for destruction ! {Exit L^ 
 
 Enter Pewtermugg, Z. 
 
 P. Heard the news, boys ? 
 
 H. News? Yes-hie; the 'Spress Co-hic-ompany was robbed last 
 night. 
 
 p. Fudge ! Do you call that news ? They've found out who 
 did it! 
 
 H. Hic-I knew that at first. 
 
 P. What! Who did you think it was ? 
 
 H. The thief, of course! Gimme 'nother c'nundrum. 
 
 P. Pah! dok! 
 
 Walter. Who was it, Pewtermugg? 
 
 P. Charlie Winslow! 
 
 All. Char ie Winslow ! 
 
 H. It's too bad. Charlie was a brick at readin' tracts, after he 
 signed. 
 
 Walter. I don't believe it. Winslow was proud of his honor. 
 
 P. And honor requires a man to pay stakes lost. 
 
 Billy. I'm not surprised. Winslow gambled freely. I wouldn't 
 trust him. 
 
 P. Nor r. 
 
 Guzzle. Bill Stoughton, you're a liar and a coward. But it's jest 
 like your sneakin' natur', to strike a man when he's down or drunk. 
 
 Billy. {Blusterins:.) What's that you say ? 
 
 Guzzle. Oh, don't bluster ! I said you lied, and I'll prove it, 
 if you want me to. 
 
 Billy. Look out. Guzzle ! Don't aggravate me, or you'll rue i£. 
 I've seen him gamble, and I'll leave it to Weston. He seen him, 
 
 P. I've seen him lose. 
 
134 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 Walter. I never saw him lose very heavily. 
 
 Guzzle. There! Billy 'Stoughton, 1 told you you lied. You arc 
 always stickin' in your short spoons where they don't belong. 
 
 Billy. Do you call me a liar ? 
 
 Guzzle. Don't fizz over like a pop-bottle. Of course I did. 
 Enter Stoughton, leading Freddie, L. 
 
 Stoughton. Boys I won't have this row. I keep a respectable house. 
 
 Guzzle. The devil prides himself on respectability. Nothin' low 
 about him. 
 
 Stoughton. What do you mean ? Is that an insult ? 
 
 Guzzle. No, no. I was only givin' the devil his due. That's all. 
 
 H. Why ! here's Freddie. How are you-hic, bub ? Your visits 
 here are like hie -angels'. 
 
 Stoughton. Yes ; his mother don't allow him to come to the saloon. 
 She's afraid it will spoil him. One of htr notions, you know. I hu- 
 mor her in it, for Freddie's her boy, and Billy's mine. 
 
 P. That accounts for their difference in taste. 
 
 Loafer. Here, Freddie, have a drop of my toddy. 
 
 Freddie. Thank you, sir; but mamma says I mustn't taste 
 strong drink. 
 
 P. Better take her advice, sonny. 
 
 Loafer. Niver a bit will it hurt ye. 
 
 Guzzle. Curse the man that will tempt a child with whiskey! 
 
 Loafer. Faith ! an' it's yersilf that's badly fuddled, or ye wouldn't 
 make sich an uncivil spache. 
 
 Guzzle. Would you have him like yourself and myself — objects of 
 contempt to decent people ? I'd a darnation sight rather bury him, if 
 he was my boy. 
 
 Walter. Why ! what ails you, Guzzle ? Blow me ! if you don't 
 make a good temperance lecturer. You need something to steady your 
 nerves. Set 'em up, Billy. Come, Heartsease, and Pewtermugg. 
 
 Guzzle. Guess I will. Maybe it will help to smother the devilment 
 I feel in me to-night, bigger'n a dray-mule. Gimme red-eye. 
 
 H. Sheet iron lockjaw ! 
 
 P. A little whiskey-sour! 
 
 Walter. I'll take brandy straight. Here's to the genial proprietor 
 of the " Shades !" ( They drivh, H.'s hand trembles so that he cannot 
 bring the glass to his mouth. He takes his handkerchief, holds one end 
 in the right hand, puts the other round his neck, drazvs up the glass^ 
 and drinks.) 
 
 Billy. There's a trick worth knowin' ! Sleight-of-hand ! 
 
 Walter. Necessity is the mother of invention. 
 
 H. I don't feel just right. My nerves ain't steady-hic, I felt so 
 once before. It's almighty queer. 
 
 Loafer. {Astde.) Snakes in his boots ! 
 
 Guzzle. Let me take you home. 
 
 P. Better take care of yourself first. 
 
 Guzzle. Oh ! I can take care of myself, and some other people I 
 know, too. 
 
 Enter Little Girl, who sings. 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. 13J 
 
 SONG— Air, "The Beggar Girl."* 
 
 Over the pavements, and in at each door, 
 
 Hungry and barefoot I wander lorlorn* 
 Mv father is dtad, and my nioiher is poor. 
 
 And she grieves lor the days that will never return. 
 
 Pity, kind gentlemen, friends of humanity. 
 Cold blows the wind and the storm r.iges on ; 
 
 Give me some alms tor my motn^r lor chanty; 
 Give me some alms, and then I will be gone. 
 
 Call me not vagabond ; wine the defiler, 
 D.irkened the home that was ha|)py and bright. 
 
 Poor tather! he followed the artful beguilcr. 
 Lonelv and weary I'm begging to-night. 
 Pity, kind gentlemen, etc. 
 
 Think, while you revel so careless and free. 
 
 Secure from the wind, and well clothed and fed; 
 
 Should fortune so change it, how hard it would be 
 To beg at a door for a morsel of bread. 
 Pity, kind gentlemen, etc. 
 
 Freddie, Little girl, let me pass round and collect for you. 
 Papa, mayn't I put in the quarter Ma gave me to buy candy? {J)rops 
 quarter into his hat, and starts around the room.) . 
 
 Stou^hton. A penny is quite enough, my son. Don't be extrava- 
 gant, even in your alms. . , 
 
 Freddie. But she needs it. Papa— she's so poor. I 11 do without 
 candy. {A few throw in pennies, which Freddie hands to her.) 
 
 Little Girl. Thank you so much ! You'r so good, 
 
 Billy. Her old daddy will have plenty of punch to-night. 
 
 Little Girl. Please, sir, my father is dead. 
 
 Billy. We've heard that story before, you little reprobate. Now 
 get out. 
 
 Walter. Let her stay, Billv. 
 
 Billy. {Comes from behind the bar, and pushes her toward door^ 
 L.) Get out ! — this is no tramps' lodging-house. 
 
 Stotighton. She'll go directly, Billy. 
 
 Bil/y. She'll go now. If I've got to keep bar here, I'll keep it 
 quiet. If you don't like that, old boss, just keep your own bar. 
 {Pushes her toward door.) 
 
 Guzzle. Touch that girl again, and I'll knock you into Jamaica, you 
 white livered coward, you! {Steps before Billy.) 
 
 Freddie. {Rushes between Billy and the Little Girl) Please 
 don't, Billy. 
 
 Billy. Guzzle, we'll soon see who's boss here — you or me ! {Seizes 
 bottle from counter, and attempts to stride Guzzt,e. Latter wards of^ 
 blow, and strikes Billy, 7vho staggers, and wildly strikes at GiizZLE, 
 but hits Freddie with the bottle. Freddie falls, crying, " Billy, 
 Tm killed— don't hit her I ") 
 
 [*] Adapted, from "The Beggar Girl," by permission of the pi>blisher% 
 Messrs. Oliver Ditson & Co. 
 
,36 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 Stoughton. {Rushing forward) Rash boy! What have you done? 
 
 Billy. It wasn't my fault. I didn't see him. 
 
 Siouirhton. {Kneels on the floor, C; draws Freddie's head upon 
 his knees.) Speak, darling! Are you hurt? My God !— he has 
 ceased to breathe ! He is dead! Killed by his own brother! Heaven 
 pity his mother! Oh ! wife was it for this ihat we reared children— to 
 fall by each other's hands ? {Rises, and lays the body carefully upon 
 the floor.) My sins cry out against me! Oh, God! why have you 
 struck him, instead of me ? I deserved it. {Wrings his hands.) Oh, 
 this is too hard to bear! 
 
 Guzzle. The fruits of Rum ! God forgive me, and I'll never drink 
 another drop! 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 Scene II. Room in Heartsease's house. Windows in flat, L and 
 R; furniture scanty and mean, indicating great poverty; sofa R ; 
 table C; chairs R and L; Mrs. H. and Susie sitting by table 
 ' sewing. 
 
 Mrs. H. Oh, when will your father return ? Will nothing restore 
 him to his senses ? Alcohol has maddened him, and nightly he adds 
 to the burden of shame which has blasted his once fair name, and sunk 
 us into the lowest depths of povertv. Verily, strong drink is a 
 demon which possesses the soul and enslaves the body of its victims. 
 
 Susie. Dear mother, is there no hope for father? 
 
 Mrs. H. Alas ! I see none. His business has passed into other 
 hands, his property scarcely sufficed to meet the demands of his credit- 
 ors. Everything went wrong, after your grandfather's death. Had it 
 not been for Mr. Wishall's good management, we should not have 
 even this house — robbed, as it is, of all that makes home pleasant, and 
 shared by those who were formerly our servants. 
 
 Susie. {At window, L, looking out) I cannot hear him yet. 
 
 Mrs. H. He is later than usual, to-night. I fear something has 
 happened. To-night he is reveling on the generosity of Mr. Trustham. 
 I fear our few remaining friends will be obliged to abandon us to our 
 fate. But I shall never cease to labor in the cause of temperance. 
 
 Enter Katrina, L. 
 
 Katrina. 1st Meester Heartsease home yet ? 
 
 Mrs. H. No. Why do you ask? 
 
 Katrina. Hans has peen home more as an hour. I'll ask him if 
 he saw your huspand. {Exit L) 
 
 Mrs. H. Oh ! that I could persuade him to turn from his ways. 
 Arguments that I daily use upon others, avail naught with him. His 
 only answer is, " My honor's gone, and a man without honor is not 
 worth saving." 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. i37 
 
 Enter YL L' he stares around the room, then advances toward C, 
 
 H. (Staring at Mrs. H.) Are you ready Hattie ? 1 ve kept you 
 waiting, have 1 ? Forgive me, won't you ? But get your bonnet and 
 shawl. We must go. 
 . Mrs. H. Go where ? 
 
 Susie. What ails you, father? 
 
 ff Hurrv up' They're pursuing us. 
 
 i^r.. ^. Lorihelpus! He has the delirium ! There's nobody 
 
 pursuing you, John. 
 
 Susie Be quiet, father ! No one shall harm you. 
 
 H There ' I told you they would get me ! (Glares under sofa, K.) 
 Sef'that fire! {Points.) See it! See! There's a firey serpent 
 fntt! He's come for me! His master's coming, too! I^ey're com- 
 ng' See! {Points.) See that demon! His head is a ball of fire ! 
 H^ arms are large snakes! {Retreats a step.) Save n^e, wife Su^e 
 help me' They've got me! (Drops on the floor, and writhes in 
 ^?«A Take fhem off! They're strangling rn.! KC/utchesath^^ 
 throat, Is if pulling off a foe.) (Mrs. H. at door, L, calls, Mr. 
 
 Gipfkl!") ^ , . , 
 
 Hans and Katrina rush in, L. 
 Hans. Mine Gott ! Schnakes in his poots ! 
 
 ^.t. Ach^'-'He t^ S^^df better pooty quick ! (H. .iU upri.U 
 
 on the floor ) . -, . x 
 
 Mrs H. Tliere, you're better, John! 
 sZie Poor father ! We will protect you. They are gone now. 
 
 SLOW CURTAIN. 
 
 Scene I. Room in H.'s house, same as in last scene of Act IV; 
 ^Umrs. Heartsease, R of table; Trustham, L of table ; 
 
 Heartsease sta^tding before Irustham, C. 
 
 H Mr. Trustham, I can never express my gratitude for what yott 
 
 '^r^^X^:"^^^^^ Heartsease! I have done veiy little, and 
 
 that was my duty. Thank your w.fe for your return to reasor. 
 
 H. Yes, dear wife, I do indeed owe it to y^;;i^^^J^^^^'\^i;f ^^^^^ 
 
 and within reach of hope. I never can repay the devotion that you 
 
 and Susie have lavished upon me. 
 
 Mrs. H My reward is great, a husband saved. ^ 
 
 H. Wife, daughter, I've been your unkindest enemy. I ve made 
 
 you beggars. I've ruined my prospects, and alienated ^yj'^^^l^^; 
 
 But thank God ! my best friends, a loving wife and a dear daughter^ 
 
138 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 are slill spared to me. Mr, Truslham, let me at least thank you for 
 your untiring interest in my beiialf, even when I heaped insuh upon 
 you. ( Takes Trustham's hattd, weeps ) I have even wasted, for 
 drink, money which you gave my dear wife to buy our bread. Can 
 you forgive me ? 
 
 Trustham. It's all forgiven. Try to forget that, and let your mind 
 dwell on the future. There is much in store for you yet. 
 
 H. I will do as you ask. Last night's horrid delirium has aroused 
 me to a sense of my awful danger. If that terrible scene is ever 
 repeated, I am lost forever. Ugh ! It makes me shudder to think of it 
 
 Mrs. H. Husband, will you pledge yourself again? 
 
 H. Yes, dear wife; to-mght I will publicly sign the pledge, and 
 take a stand for sobriety again. 1 know, alas ! my weakness, now, and 
 1 also know who are my friends. I trust I may stand firm this time. 
 
 Trustham. I trust you may. Friends are ready to assist you. 
 shall meet you at the temperance rooms this evening. {Exit L.) 
 
 Mrs, H. Oh, husband ! my joy is greater than 1 dared to hope. 
 
 Susie. Father, I'm so glad ! 
 
 H. I have most reason to be happy, for what joy is greater than 
 seeing the happiness of loved ones! {Clasps them in his arms; 
 soft muiics ^^Home, Stteet Home.^^^ 
 
 SLOW CURTAIN. 
 
 Scene II. Temperance reading-room; long reading-table, /?, with 
 books and papers ; files of papers on walls ; President's sland rear; 
 small table front of it, with ink, pens, etc ; appropriate tem- 
 perance mottoes on the wails ; standing round small table, as 
 curtain rises, Mrs. H., Susie, H., Trustham, and FEwrERMUGG. 
 
 P. So you have concluded to lead a new life, I hear, Mr 
 Heartsease. 
 
 H. I am determined to try, and will sign the pledge this evening. 
 
 P. That's right! I'm glad to see the good work go on. We 
 need it. God speed it ! 
 
 £'«/£'r WiNSLow and Mrs. Winslow. 
 
 H. Mrs. Winslow, I shall redeem my promise. 
 
 Mrs. W. Heaven be praised for that ! It lightens somewhat my 
 own great grief. 
 
 Susie. Mr. Winslow, I'm so glad to see you {Offers him 
 her hand.) 
 
 Winslow. Thank you. To hezr you say so, is joy to one in despair, 
 
 Truslham. Cheer up, Charles; all may yet be well. You have 
 good friends. 
 
 P. Can I do anything? I'm willing to try. 
 
 Su^ie. Thank you, Mr. Pewtermugg! Thank you. 
 
 Winslow. I don't see how you can do anything. You did not see 
 anybody take the express pouch last night. It's a dark case for me, I 
 presume I shall be arrested before morning. 
 
 P. {Aside.) Ha ! you're in the toils to stay. 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. 139 
 
 Mrs. H. To think that my boy should be accused of robbery ! Oh, 
 the disgrace ! 
 
 H. It is a sad affair, but let us hope for the best ! 
 
 Trustham. Mr. Heartsease, you may now inscribe your name in 
 this book. I will read the pledge. {Reads.) " 1 do solemnly prom- 
 ise to abstain from all use of all intoxicating liquors all the resi of my 
 life. Lord help me." 
 
 F. Mr. Trustham, I have never signed this vew pledge. I will do 
 so now. I wish to contribute my mite of influence toward the good 
 cause. 
 
 Trustham. Certainh% Mr. Pewtermugg. By all means, sign it. 
 
 Mrs. W. {As F. IS about to sign y enter VohlCEM AH, followed l>j> Guz- 
 ZLE, WiSHALL, and Hans. Mh^. WinsloW lays her hand on the 
 Policeman's arm, entreatutgly.) You have come to arrest him. Please 
 ■have mercy. Do not blast his fair name. I plead not for myself. He 
 is young, and has all his life beiore him. 
 
 Officer. Madam, I must do my duty. 
 
 Guzzle. Mrs. Winslow, I reckon you've made a slight mistake. 
 This is the chap the policeman's lookni' for. {Fotnts to P.) Well, I 
 €wow ! What's he up to now? 'Taint no use, old boy! I calc'late 
 they'll put you where there'll be no temptation to drink anything stronger 
 than Adam's ale. Reckon they'll keep you tight enough, without 
 whiskey. 
 
 P. {Greatly agitated.) What do you mean, fellow? 
 
 Officer. It means that you are charged with robbing the American 
 Express Company of ^25,000. 
 
 P. {Pretending coolness.) This is all gammon ! I suppose you 
 are at the bottom of it, Wishall. Remember, I can play at that too, 
 on a little account of yours. 
 
 Wishall. I suppose you refer to my business relations with the late 
 Mr. Ledger. I shall settle that with his partner. John Heartsease, 
 I owe you ^5,000. Pardon an erring man! 
 
 P. Fool ! what do you mean ? Put yourself behind a grating, if 
 you choose. 
 
 H. Mr. Wishall, I understand it all. Mr Ledger informed me 
 that he intended to pay you the amount you name. He died before 
 doing so. A check purporting to be drawn by him was presented by 
 you for payment, and proved, on close examination, to be a forgery. I 
 declined to push the matter, because you had, by years of faithful labor, 
 earned far more than that paltry sum. It is yours, and you are welcome 
 to it, though your course was so wrong that 1 could not admit you as a 
 partner, ns I intended doing. 
 
 IV. { Wi:h ieeling.) And he is the friend who concealed my 
 crime, instead of yourself, base wretch ! 
 
 P . Wishall, are you not equally a base wretch, in betraying what 
 you acceded to? Traitor! 
 
 W. I revealed nothing. Should I reveal one-tenth part of your 
 villainy the world would stand amazed. 
 
 P . (Druzvs a pistol.) Then you will never reveal it. (OFFICER 
 tf«f/ Guzzle seize him and handcuff him; xvomen scream.) 
 
 Hafis. Py himmel ! dot bistol might shoot himself off pooty quick. 
 
I40 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 Guzzle. {To P.) Now Boss, I guess we're even! I'll not let 
 Wishall have all the credit of this little job. I've had a crow to pick 
 with you ever since you turned my filher and mother out of one of your 
 shanties into the winter's storm. You struck me, because 1 said you 
 were mean. It ain't always safe to strike a boy, because you can. 
 
 P. What's that to do with the present ? 
 
 Guzzle. Oh, I havn't finished yet! Maybe you would like 
 to know how I found out that you hired a boy to steal an old express 
 pouch from the office? An' p'raps, you'd like to know why I followed 
 you up to the depot, that dark night, when the night express came in? 
 I wa'n't far away when you jumped into the express wagon along with 
 Charlie Winslow, and gave iiim a nice Havana, to pass away time, an' 
 then threw out the sack in the dark, and slipped your old stuffed one in 
 on the seat beside Charlie. You're darned cute, Mr. Pewtermugg; but, 
 remember that Guzzle's head has something in it, beside the efi'ects of 
 forty-rod whiskey! 
 
 Officer. Come. Mr. Pewtermugg, I must escort you to prison. 
 
 P. Belter death, than such disgrace ! Ruined forever ! {Exeunt L.} 
 
 Mrs. H. Can this be true, or is it a dream? Mr. Pewtermugg was 
 a man of such exemplary morals and excellent habits, that his fall has 
 made me distrustful of — I had almost said, all mankind. 
 
 Trust ham. After all, I always half suspected him to be a sly, 
 canting hypocrite. 
 
 Mrs. W. Oh, Charles, what a narrow escape you have had ! 
 
 Winslow. And it seems I am indebted to Guzzle for deliverance. 
 
 Susie. Mr. Guzzle, we will never forget that service ! 
 
 Guzzle. To serve you. Miss Susie, is reward enough, without thanks. 
 
 W. Winslow, forgive me for being an accomplice in the plot for 
 your ruin, for I was an accomplice, in not warning you and advising you 
 to beware of the allurements of wine, and the villainies of Pewtermugg. 
 
 W. I forgive you ! I was most to blame. I thank God, 1 have 
 escaped destruction ! I shudder at the dark plot, which my impru- 
 dence has made possible. Never again will I taste intoxicating 
 liquors ! {Sig-ns the pledge. ) 
 
 Hans. Meester Trustham, I p'lieve I signs dot bledge ! Dese 
 Yankee trinks make me feel so schtupid, oond, would you p'lieves it ? 
 Last night I dreamed of schnakes, oond I told Katrina dees morgens 
 dot I signs dot bledge eef she would. {Signs.) We'll trink frish 
 vasser for a shpell. 
 
 Enter Z, Walter Weston aud Stoughton. 
 
 Stoughton. I've come to sign the pledge. 
 
 Trustham. Nobly said! Stoughton, you're too much of a man foi 
 such a vile traffic. 
 
 Sioughton An accursed traffic ! It has ruined my family. One 
 of my poor boys lies to-day in his coffin, and the other, alas ! is worse 
 off". Rum was the destroyer. I'll never sell another drop, or encour- 
 age a human being to partake of the cruel poison. {Signs the pledge^ 
 Walter, take my advice — stop in time. {Exit L.) 
 
 Trustham. There is the pledge for all. Who else will sign ? 
 
THE SPARKLING CUP. I4I 
 
 Wnlter. Gnzzle, I'll sign it if you will. I think we've drank enough. 
 If murder and villainy loliow wine, 1 will not follow it in iheir 
 company. 
 
 Trusihajn. There is no fitter time to turn to the right. 
 
 Guzzle. I've made up my mind to sign the pledge, Walter, and I'm 
 glad you have, too, (Walter and Guzzle sign.) I guess this crowd 
 has sowed about enough wild oats to got up a reputation. I'm goin* 
 to be a man, or sell out my canoe and quit . {All sign ) 
 
 Mrs. H. Guzzle give me your hand ! {They shake hands.) 
 
 H. {Signs. ) Would that this stroke of the pen were a release from 
 the memories of the past ! Let us stand united against the tempter itt 
 the future, and strive to rescue the perishing. 
 
 MUSIC— SLOW CURTAIN. 
 
THE ASSESSOR. 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 Mr. Taxshirk, 
 
 Mrs. Taxsiiirk, 
 
 Bub Taxshirk, 
 
 Sarah Jane Taxshirk^ 
 The Tax Assessor.. 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 Tnxshirk and his family, substantial country dress j 
 Assessor in plain business suit. 
 
THE ASSESSOR. 
 
 Scene. Room in a Farmer's House. Enter farmer Taxskirk and 
 
 the Assessor. 
 
 Taxshirk. Take a seat mister. Let me see — what might your 
 name be? 
 
 Assessor. My name is Dooley — ^John Dooley. 
 
 Taxsliirk. Waal now I guess yeou ;iint no relation to the Doo- 
 leys down by Binkley's Corners, be yeou? 
 
 Assessor. Slightly related, I believe. Old Jack Dooley down 
 by the corners is a second cousin of my father's. 
 
 Taxshirk. Then you 're a son of Sim Dooley — long Sim, we 
 called him. 
 
 Assessor. Exactly — the same. 
 
 Taxshirk. Waal dew tell ! Heow is Sim. 
 
 Assessor. Oh, he's all right and good for many a year yet. 
 
 Taxshirk. I swow. Who'd a thought it. I'd like to see Sim 
 again. Many a rastle Sim and I have had. He was about the best 
 r^istler in the kyounty. I held a pretty even whiffletree with him 
 though, and we could never quite settle which was the best man. 
 
 Assessor. I've heard father speak often of his wrestling. 
 
 Taxshirk. Sim v/as a' most like a brother to me. We used to 
 go to sp'ellin' school together. I remember as well as yesterday 
 the first time your father went sparkin' of your mother, Maria 
 Briggs. 
 
 Assessor. Ah, you have a good memory I see, Mr. Taxshirk. 
 
 Taxshirk. Your father moved aout to this state the same spring 
 I did. It's nigh onto thirty year I guess. I tell yeou, Mr. Doo- 
 ley, your father and I were two of the poorest men that ever came 
 west. Sallie and me had nothing in the house but three 
 plates, three knives and forks, and two cups and sassers. 
 We 'd a straw bed and coverled, and all the extra clothes that we 
 had, that wan't on our backs, you could 'a put in your overcoat 
 pocket. Dang my boots if you couldn't. (Laughs.) 
 
 Assessor. I 've heard father say, often, that those were trying 
 times. 
 
 Taxshirk. Waal they were, / tell yeou. We carried corn on 
 critter back thirty mile to mill. It took plump three days to go to 
 mill and back. I suppose your father has picked up considerable 
 «encethen? 
 
146 THE ASSESSOR, 
 
 Assessor, He can't reasonably complain. 1 see by the looks of 
 your furm and your stock, that you are pretty well off for this 
 •world, too. 
 
 Taxs/iirk. I guess I had'nt ought to complain. Speakin* of 
 stock, yeou don't see no finer, I kalkilate, than ourn. I've gotthe 
 best kyowsin thekyounty. 
 
 Assessor. Do you keep much stock, Mr Taxshirk? 
 
 Taxs/iirk. Waal yes I guess so. We've about as much as Bub 
 and myself can tend We 've eleven kyows, an' seven head of 
 horses, an' I guess close rubbin' onto four hundred head of sheep, 
 Milkin' the kyows, and tendin' to the butter an' cheese is a sight 
 of work. 
 
 Enter Mrs. Taxshirk and Bub. 
 
 TaxsJiirk. SalHe this is Mr. Dooley, Sim Dooley'sboy. {Mrs. 
 T. shakes hands ivith him. ) 
 
 Mrs. T. Goodness me! Sim Dooley's boy. I haint seen your 
 pap for ten year, or sich a matter. How is he? 
 
 Assessor. He is well. 
 
 Taxshirk. I am sorry Sim moved down into the other 
 kyounly. We never see him nowadays. If 1 might inquire, are 
 you married? 
 
 Assessor. I am. 
 
 Taxshirk. Where do you live? 
 
 Assessor. I moved up' into this township last spring. 
 
 Mrs. T. I do say. Why, we never heerd tell of it. 
 
 Bub. Why, mother, didn't you hear about that Dooley feller 
 that moved into Snook's old house? 
 
 Taxshirk. Yes, you heard of it, Sallie. You've forgot. Bub 
 told us, veou know. 
 
 Mrs. T. I 'spose I heerd it, but my memory ain't as good as it 
 was twenty or thirty year ago. Bub remembers everything. 
 
 Taxshirk. Bub, have vou turned the kyows to pasture? 
 
 Bub. Sairv Jane's doin' that. 
 
 Taxshirk. Bub, how much milk did old Brindle give when she 
 was fresh? 
 
 Bub. Two wooden pails-full. 
 
 Mrs. T. Old Crumpley'-; just as good a cow any day. 
 
 Taxshirk. I guess if anything, she's a leetle better for butter, 
 but I 'spose there ain't a tuppence difference between them. I 
 wouldn't take a fifty dollar greenback of any man's money for 
 either of them. 
 
 Enter Sarah Jane. 
 
 Sarah y. Pap, all five of the big colts jumped into the cow- 
 pasture, and the little ones are tryin' to git in too. 
 
 Taxshirk. That's the way it goes. Them colts will pester the 
 life out of me. Bub, we must repair that fence after plantin'. 
 
 Assessor. Mr. Taxshirk, as time is precious, perhaps I had 
 better state my business. 
 
 Taxshirk. Out with it, then I I guessed when I saw you comin* 
 
THE ASSESSOR. 147 
 
 you was some city feller with patent-rights or somethin' of the 
 kind. But I gue«s Sim Dooley's boy wouldn't gorouud swindlin* 
 his neighbors with patent rights. ' 
 
 Mrs. T. Maybe he 's got sewin' machines. 
 
 Assessor. No, ma'am; lam ^ 
 
 Sub. He's the feller with oil chromos, I'll bet. 
 
 Assessor. You are mistaken! I am not a peddler. 
 
 Sora/i y. Mother, if he's the book agent that's round, T want 
 a book full of battles like the one Sis Jones's pap bougnt for her. 
 
 Tdxshirk. I guess we don't want any books these hard times. 
 
 Mrs T. The last one Ave bought, the kiver come off" in less than 
 six weeks, before the children was through readin' it. An' they 
 ain't hard on books, either. The teller he came round again sellin.* 
 piclers, an' he actually wouldn t take it back. 
 
 Assessor. Madam, 'l am not a book agent, I am happy to say: 
 I am the township assessor. 
 
 Taxshirk. {Jumps up excitedly.) How's that, Mr. Dooley? 
 Sol Willams was elected, accordin' to my count. 
 
 Assessor. But he appointed me as "his deputy. That's how 
 it is. 
 
 Taxshirk. {Gruffly?) Wa'al, if thafs your business, why didn't 
 you say so. I want to git to my work. 
 
 Assessor. (Produces blanks for the returns) We will proceeci 
 then at once. It is, perhaps, unnecessary to read the explanation* 
 to you in lull. I will read you the affidavit sometimes required.. 
 (7?eads rapidly.) I do solemnly swear that I will enumerate to the 
 test of my knowledge and belief all my properties of every kind 
 whatsoever, as heremafter mentioned, viz: chattels, moneys, loans,, 
 bonds, securities, &c., &c. 
 
 Taxshirk. {Testily.) Hold on, I say! I wouldn't give a straw 
 for the man whose word isn't as good as his oath. I'll not swear,. 
 I guess. 
 
 Assessor. Very well ! We'll proceed without the oath. How 
 many milch cows have you.-* 
 
 Taxshirk. Seven ! 
 
 Assessor. Excuse me, Mr. Taxshirk, but I understood a few 
 minutes ago that you had eleven milch cows. 
 
 Taxshirk. Botheration! Four of them are dry! 
 
 Assessor. Exactly! {Writes.) Eleven milch cows, and four of 
 them dry. {Laughs.) 
 
 Sarah J. No that ain't right. There's eleven milch cows and 
 four dry cows. 
 
 Taxshirk. Sairy Jane, go into the kitchen. Learn to hold youv 
 tongue when older folks than you be are talkin'! {Exit Sakah 
 Jane.) 
 
 Assessor. Exactly! {I?eads.) Eleven milch cows, four drv 
 cows; worth, say $^0 apiece. Is that right.? 
 
 Taxshirk. {Gruffly ) I kalkilate it is 
 
 Mrs. T. Mr. Dooley, you've no idea what a loss it was for 
 them four cows to go dry. It made a big hole in the cheese. 
 
I4« THE ASSESSOR. 
 
 The mules knocked down the fence and let the keows into the 
 corn, an' four of them never got over the gorge an' we had to put 
 them dry. 
 
 Taxs/n'rk. Sallie, hadn't you better see to the kitchen. {Aside.) 
 Confound it, women can't keep their tongues. {Exit Mrs. T) 
 
 Assessor. Mules! A.h, mules are unruly animals. How manjr 
 mules, Mr. Taxshirk.? 
 
 Taxs/iirk. Only seven! 
 
 Assessor. "Worth say $50 apiece. 
 
 Taxs/iirk. {Snappishly.) They're not worth it. Mule meat is 
 •cheap and mean. 
 
 Assessor. You have very fine stock, Mr. Taxshirk, and doubt- 
 less your mules are no exception, but we will compromise at $40 
 per head. How many horses.-* 
 
 Taxshirk. Nine! Worth about $50 per head on the er;erage I 
 kalkylate. 
 
 Assessor. Cheap horseflesh! Any for sale at those figures? I 
 ■want a good span of horses. 
 
 Bub. Why, Pap, you was offered $300 for Selim last week. 
 
 Taxshirk. Bub, can't I teach you not to meddle when I'm 
 talkin'. 
 
 Bub. {Angrily^ You'd forget you had a head if it wan't for 
 ine. 
 
 laxshirk. Clear out you young scamp and no talkin' back! 
 The 'Sessor an' me can tend to this business. Git to haulin' rails 
 to mend that fence. {Exit Bus.) 
 
 Assessor. We'll say $75 per head for the horses all 'round. 
 Will that do? 
 
 Taxshirk. {Hesitating.) Wa'al I guess so. 
 
 Assessor. You said four hundred sheep, I believe. Say one 
 dollar per head. Anything else.'' 
 
 Taxshirk. Ten hogs, worth a matter of $15. 
 
 Assessor. Well pork is cheap. {Writes.) Is that all the live 
 stock } 
 
 Taxshirk. All I think of. 
 
 Asses-ior. Your daughter mentioned some colts ; five large and 
 five small, I believe. 
 
 Taxshirk. Well, by jingo, my memory is getting bad! I clean 
 forgot them. (Laughs.) Put in the ten at $150. 
 
 Assessor. Call it $200. {Writes) What is the value of your 
 household furniture and appurtenances .?* 
 
 Taxshirk. We're not very stylish here, as you see. We've 
 nothin' but cheers and tables an' bedstids, and sich like. I guess 
 the hul kit is worth about $300, countin' the new bureau in the 
 best room. 
 
 Assessor. What is the value of your farm implements? 
 
 Taxs/iirk. About $100, or sich a matter. 
 
 Enter Sarah Janb. 
 
THE ASSESSOR. 149 
 
 SaraJi J. Mother wants to know what time it is by Bub's 
 <watch. The clock 's stopped. 
 
 Assessor. Oh, yes; one watch. (Writes.) 
 
 loxshirk. [Angrily.) Confound that clock, I'll smash it into 
 flinders ihe next time it stops! Sairy Jane, go long and don't 
 bother me. 
 
 Enter Bub. 
 
 Bzcb. Pap, shall I take the horses or the oxen to haul the 
 
 rails.'* 
 
 Assessor. Oxen! Quite true, we forgot them. How many 
 yoke.'' 
 
 TaxsJiirk. {In a rage.) One yoke ; put it down ! Bub, you're an 
 ass. Mr. 'Sessor, put t/iat down too. One taxable ass. [To Bub.) 
 You young imp! when I send you out why don't you stay out till 
 you're sent \ov} Go! {Exit Bub. Sounds of piano heard in ad- 
 joining room.) 
 
 TaxsJiirk. (Aside.) I wish that piano was in China. 
 
 Assessor. I was not aware that your daughter could play If 
 there's anything I like it's music. What is your instrument 
 worth ? 
 
 Taxsliirk. So you're going to tax that too, be you.? It's nuthin' 
 but ornament and nonsense, and ought to go in free. 
 
 Assessor. Couldnt't do it. The dn-ections are explicit. Read 
 them. [Hands paper to T.) 
 
 Taxsliirk. I paid $500 for it, but it ain't tvorth anything. It's 
 all a piece of tomfoolery. 
 
 Assessor. Really, Mr. Taxshirk, hadn't you better call in your 
 family to assist you in listing your property.? Your memory is 
 so very bad. 
 
 Taxshirk. No, confound it. Thanks to your meddlin' an' 
 pry in' round, you've got it all. (A pause. Assessor xvriting in his 
 book. In loud key.) I say, you've got it all. (Assessor continues 
 ivriting. Still louder.) Confound you, man, why don't you go.? 
 Are you waiting lor more live stock to grow, so you can 'sess it? 
 
 Assessor. Not at all ! not at all ! Thank you, Mr. Taxshirk, for 
 the very' full returns I've got. Good day ! (Exit.) 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 Miss Praxis, Principal of young ladies' boardiii; 
 
 school. 
 Mrs. Gushover, Visitor. 
 Miss Sourtop, iviatron. 
 Belle, | 
 
 Julia, I 
 
 Annie, \ Schoolgirls. 
 
 Nettie, ; 
 Bridget, Chambermaid. 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 Any clothing suited to the social standing of the character. 
 
 SITUATIONS. 
 
 R , means right for the actor as he laces the audience; L, left 
 C, center. 
 
T^A^O GHOSTS IN WHITK. 
 
 Scene, — Girls* room in Jemale boarding school; entrance Lp. 
 closet door R; bedroom door L C in fiat ; sofa R C; study table 
 C; chatrSf books and articles pertaining to studies, 
 
 Annie. We'll have just a jolly time, Jule. Fred and Will 
 said they would bring their chums, two splendid fellows, lor Belle 
 and Nettie. 
 
 Julia. Won't that be nice! But how did you manage it this 
 time? Sourtop has eyes all over her head. 
 
 Annie. Yes; just like a potato. [Laughs.) You see my gold 
 pencil has a hollow space inside big enough for a tiny ncte. Well 
 I lost the pencil, by accident, of course, under a seat, while doing 
 penance in the shape of the morning walk in the park. Fred, by 
 accident too, found it atler we had gone. What did he do but come 
 boldly up to the seminary and deliver it to Miss Praxis herself. 
 She scolded my negligence a little, that was all. 
 
 Julia. Ha! ha! I should never have thought of that. Will 
 they bring a ladder.? 
 
 Annie. No, you big goose! That isn't safe any more. You 
 know the new kitchen runs out under the old oak, and Fred says 
 that is just the thing. From the roof of tlie kitchen they can 
 easily i^et onto the roof of the wing, and then the lightning rod 
 ■will take them directly to Belle's wmdovv. 
 
 Jnlia. Oh, dear! I'm afraid they'll fall ! 
 
 Annie. Ha! ha! you're afraid Will may get hurt! 
 
 Julia. I wasn't thinking of Will at all. 
 
 Anuje. Oh, certainly not! you never think of him. There's 
 not the slightest danger. Didn t they say the last time they were 
 here, that they always climb he ligh'ning rod to their room when 
 they're out of the college late.? It will be just gay ! Ma sent me 
 cake and fruit, and Fred will bring oysters and pickles. Wouldn't 
 Sourtop tear her hair if she'd find it out.? 
 
 Julia. Let 's go and see if Belle and Nettie will be sure to be 
 here 
 
 Annie. Oh! of course they'll come. {Exeunt L.) 
 
 Enter L, Miss Praxis and Mrs. Gushover. 
 
 Miss P. Mrs. Gvishover, this is a fair specimen of the rooms 
 in our boarding halls, as you will see by comparing it with those 
 of your daughter. 
 
 Mis. G. Indeed, Miss Praxis, I think your arrangements are 
 all perfection. I do, really, and I'm glad to find it so. I've wor- 
 
154 TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. 
 
 •ried a great deal this year about my darling Belle. I've told Mr. 
 Gushover again and again that we must spare no pains to edicate 
 our child. iSays I to him, says I, Gushover we can't be too par- 
 ticular about the edication of our child. Says I, riches takes 
 wings, (Mr. Gushover is one of the solidest men in our town; but 
 knowledge don't. 
 
 Miss F. Very true. 
 
 Airs. G. Says I, we'll spare no expense to give Belle a superior 
 edication. Miss Praxis, money *s no object when advantages are 
 concerned. I've always said so to Gushover. My child shall 
 have advantages if money '11 buy them. 
 
 Miss P. You are very right in your views concerning the 
 future of your child ! 
 
 Mrs G. Just what I've always told Gushover. Belle is a smart 
 girl. She's the smartest of the family. 
 
 Miss P. Remarkable! 
 
 Mrs. G. She knovved every one of her letters before she was 
 four, and could count like everything when she was six. I said 
 then to Gushover, says I that child sliall be edicaed. 
 
 A/iss P. Have you destined her tor any particular work in life? 
 
 Mrs. G. Well, I can't say as I have. Arilhmetic is her strong 
 point. Don't you think so. Miss Praxis.? 
 
 Miss P. She does very creditably in arithmetic and in fact in 
 mathematics. 
 
 Mrs. G. I don't know much about them mathematics yow speak 
 of. I never studied them but one term when I went to school. 
 Grammar and 'Rithmetic was my strong points. 
 
 Miss P. Ah ! • I dare say ! 
 
 Mrs. G. It was, indeed. I believe in strong points., and it's a 
 teacher's business to bring them out. Belle 's a good girl. She'd 
 never cause her teacher a spark of trouble if she knowed it. She 
 never complains of her teachers and they never complain of her. 
 Anvbody can get along with her when they learn her ways. 
 
 Miss P. I soon learn the ways of my pupils. Belle is an ex- 
 cellent girl. She is inclined to be a little merry, but that is doubt- 
 less caused by her fine physical organization. 
 
 Mrs. G. I want to know! I declare I never noticed it. She is 
 the quietest girl I ever seen. She is the bashfullest girl at home 
 you ever heerd tell of. She wont even look at the young gentle- 
 men who used to be playmates at the public school. Says I to 
 Mr. Gushover, says I, Belle 's so bashful we never will get her out 
 into society at all; and says he, don't worry, Mary 'Ann, says he 
 she'll come out soine ot these days. 
 
 Miss P. Her coining out wilf be easy enough, I apprehend, 
 Mrs. Gushover. 
 
 Mrs. G. Gushover is a peculiar man I'm compelled to say, 
 Miss Praxis. 
 
 Miss P. Oh, no ! Don't say so, Mrs. Gushover. I think Mr. 
 Gushover a model man! 
 
 Mrs. G, Yes, I vow he is, Miss Praxis. I took him because he 
 
TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. i55 
 
 •was a model man. I could a' had a dozen men when I got Cush- 
 over. They were just dyin' for me, but I took up witli him. I 
 knowed he'd suit me. Says 1 to myseU, says I, I'll lurnish the 
 sentimental and style, and Gushover will furnish the practicalities 
 of life. He don't care a straw about style. When I talked of 
 sendin' Belle to school I said to him, says I, Gushover we must 
 send Belle where there's style. And, says he, I agree with you 
 decidedly Mary Ann, lor we need some" style in the lamily. D'ye 
 see? He was jokin'. That man '11 be the death of me yet with 
 his jokes, for you see he married me right out of a fashionable 
 boarding school. {Liuii,r/,s.) Now 1 spose really Belle must take 
 after her Pa if she's inclined to tun. 
 
 Miss P. It 's quite probable. Such traits are often hereditary. 
 You need not reyret Belle's liveliness. She is a very good 
 pupil, an exemplary one, in fact. Mrs. Gushover, would you 
 like to visit some of the rooms where the young ladies are 
 at studv. You will find them busy as beavers. The. occu- 
 pants of this room have, I presu.ne, obtained permission from 
 Miss Sourtop, the matron, to visit some other room. Study hours 
 end at t^ight, but the young ladies have permission to study until 
 nine, and I'm glad to say that many ot them avail themselves of 
 the privilege. We are workers here, Mrs. Gushover. 
 
 Mrs. G. So you are! I see it on every hand. Now I venture 
 Belle studies every evening till the last minnit. I could hardly 
 git her away from' her books at home. We'll drop into her room 
 just before nine and surprise her. 
 
 A/iss P. Perhaps she expects to spend the evening with you 
 in the parlor? Possibly, it would not do justice to her to expect to 
 find her studying on this occasion. 
 
 Mrs.G. Now don't you mind that, Miss Praxis. She's an 
 obedient child and I told her she should go right along as if I 
 wan'c here. Don't you fear lor her. I venture she'll be hard at 
 work when we come, and we'll just visit rt und and see what the 
 others are doing. Your discipline is so good, I know they'll all be 
 hard at work. 
 
 Miss P. Ah ! I'm glad you think so well of us. You appre- 
 ciate a ^rood school. Our discipline is indeed fine. Miss Sourtop 
 is invaluable to me. She spends all her time seeing after the girls 
 during hours w hen they are not in class. You can't stiff nse our 
 girls much, for they are always at work. We never find them 
 idle. 
 
 Mrs. G. Indeed your school is really perfection. 
 
 E7i/er Sourtop. 
 
 Miss P. On the rounds as usual, Sourtop .!* 
 
 Sourtop. Yes, Miss Praxis-, I'll strive to do my duty by these 
 young ladies. Dear things, they need constant care and I love to 
 bestow it. {Exeunt Miss P. a>/d Mis. G ) 
 
 S-.nriop. One must keep up appearances when strangers are 
 around. {Looks around loom.) Now if the girls haven't left 
 
156 TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. 
 
 their closet door open. I can't teach them that such things are 
 very improper. Of course everything inside is disarranged. 
 {JSieps inside.) 
 
 Enter Annie and Julia. 
 
 Annie. Goodness, if I haven't left my closet door open, {Mtm^ 
 ichingly) Sourtop says that is very improper. {Locks door and 
 futs key in her pocket.) Let 's see what's in my box. {1 hey 
 bring box from bed room and proceed to open it Tvith a hatchet.) 
 
 Julia. {Pulling out an overcoat) Good gracious, Annie! what's 
 this? 
 
 AtiJiie. Well, did you ever.? I declare I've got somebody else's 
 box. {Pulls out various articles of gentlemen'' s dress.) Ha! hat 
 ha! If mother hasn't sent me brother John's box, and of course 
 mine has gone to him. How provoking! 
 
 Julia. It's real mean. 
 
 Annie. Wait a minute, Julia! I know Ma would send John 
 something to eat too. Good! Here it is. {Produces large cake, 
 bai^ of nuts, etc.) 
 
 Julia. It's too bad that Belle's mother is here. Suppose she'd 
 find out all about our little supper. 
 
 Annie. No danger! She told Belle that she would spend the 
 evening with Miss Praxis. 
 
 Ji/lia. Splendid ! Then Sourtop will be in the parlor too. 
 She'll want to hear all that 's said by Miss Praxis and Mrs. Gush- 
 over. Annie, I wouldn't prowl around these halls in the dark as 
 she does, for the world. 
 
 Annie. Pooh, you little coward! you see a spook in every dark 
 corner. 
 
 Julia. And I venture you would be just as much afraid as I, 
 if you do think you are very brave. 
 
 Annie. Pshaw! All the girls know you're a regular little 
 ninny ! What do I care for your ghosts and haunted houses. I 
 wish we could have a light. It must be nearly time for the boys 
 to come. 
 
 Julia. Hark ! I hear footsteps. 
 
 Enter Belle and Nettie, silejiily. Arrayed in -white. They 
 xvave their arms silently. 
 
 Annie. Good gracious! {Darts into Passage L.) 
 Jiilia. \Screavis.) Annie! Annie! I shall die. {Faints.) 
 Nettie. {Excitedly.) Oh, dear, what shall we do.? She's so 
 easily frightened, and she may die. 
 
 Belle. Plague take it! She'll not die. But Sourtop will hear 
 her screams. She'll be here in a minute, and then we're in a 
 prettv fix. {Footsteps heard outside.) Gracious! She's coming I 
 YouU not catch me in the scrape. ( Tliroxvs the sheet zvhich is 
 ivrapped around her under the sofa, and runs into bed room.) 
 
 Nettie. Well, they'll not catch me in a trap either. I'll just 
 faint too. {Throws sheet under the sofa and drops on floor ^ 
 
TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. 157 
 
 Enter L, Miss Praxis, Mrs. Gushover, and Bridget 
 
 Miss P. It must have been here we heard the noise. 
 
 Mrs. G. Oh, Where's my poor child.? Belle would never leave 
 her books unless it was something dreadful. ( They see girls on the 
 floor.) Mercy, save us, if it ain't murder! Call the police. We'll 
 all be killed. 
 
 Bridget. Troth! an it's murder, it is! 
 
 Miss P. {Calmly.) Something serious has happened. But 
 the young ladies have only fainted. Bridget run quick for water! 
 Run into my office and bring my lancets, and a vessel to catch ihe 
 blood. It may be necessary to let a little blood. Fetch my 
 smelling salts too. {Proceeds to lift the j^irls into sofa and easy 
 chair.) You see, I am something of a physician, and occasionally 
 prescribe for the young ladies. I can bleed as well as any doctor. 
 
 Mrs. G. {Rushes around frantically.) Oh, Miss Praxis, don't 
 mention blood! I can't bear to think of it. I can't bear to see a 
 chicken's head cut off. Says I to Gushover before we were 
 married, says I, one thing I never will do, I never will cut off a 
 chicken's head! And I havn't. I'm as tender-hearted as a — a — 
 
 Miss P. (Aside) As a mouse ! ( Trying to restore ihe girls.) 
 Calm yourself, Mrs. Gushover, really, I think it is nothing 
 serious. 
 
 Efiter Bridget hurriedly L^ ivith a large fail of -water, containing 
 large tin dipper; also, a long butcher knife, a ixjash-tub, a wooden 
 tray of salt. 
 
 Miss P. Mrs. Gushover, will you please assist me.? Where 
 can Sourtop be.? Her assistance would be invaluable now. 
 
 Mrs. G. Oh, Miss Praxis, don't! You make me teel faint to 
 hear you. Poor Belle! Miss Praxis, has anything happened to 
 my child.? 
 
 Aliss P. Bridget, bring water. {Bridget takes up dipper full. 
 Miss P. raises Nettie's head and bathes her te7nple.) Now% this 
 way ! ( Thev do same zvith Julia, latter shows signs of reviving. 
 Turns to Nettie again.) I'm afraid this is a more serious case. I 
 think I will bleed her as the quickest means of relief. Bridget' 
 where the basin to catch the blood ? 
 
 Bridget. Shure, an' I brought the wash-tub. 
 
 Miss P. Dear me! Why did'nt you bring something else.? 
 
 Bridget. Faith an' that will hould it, surely. 
 
 Miss P. The wash basin would have been quite sufficient. 
 
 Mrs. G. {Excitedly.) Oh! I shall faint! Help! To think of 
 a wash-tub full of blood. It will kill the child, 
 r Bridget. ( Topees handful of salt and puts under Mrs. G 's nose ) 
 Now, then, won't yez try a shmell of the salt.? 
 
 Mrs. G. {Severely) Take away them nasty drugs. 
 
 Miss P. Why, Bridget, what do you mean.? What are you 
 doing with the salt.? Get the lancet for me, quick! 
 
 Bridget. Didn't yez say that smellin' of salt would relave the 
 
158 TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. 
 
 pain of faintin'; an' isn't the lady a dyin' to faint? {Takes butcher 
 knife tn one hand^ and a dipper of -water in the other. Hands knife 
 to Miss P.) 
 
 Miss P. Where's the lancet? Mercy, me! What's this for? 
 Where's the lancet? 
 
 Bridget. Yez said yez wanted to spill some blood. I thought 
 that would spill enough. 
 
 Miss P. You wretched blunderer. The girl might die betore 
 you could relieve her. 
 
 Bridget. Ay, an' I belave it. 
 
 Mtss P. Water! Pour a little on her temples. (Bridget pours 
 dipper full of -water on Nettie's /ace and neck. She jumps to her 
 feet.) 
 
 Nettie. You horrid thing! you've spoilt my new dress! 
 
 Miss P. Suddenly recovered! What is the cause of this? 
 
 Bridget. Faith, you've found spache at last, an' a very oncivil 
 spache at that, when we've been trottin' the breath out of our 
 bodies for yez. 
 
 Mrs. G. Do you feel weak, poor child? 
 
 Nettie. (Snappishly.) No! I don't. (Ajznie slips in L unob' 
 served.) 
 
 Miss P. Miss Nettie, will you please inform us the cause of 
 all tnis trouble? 
 
 Nettie. Oh, don't ask! Some one was coming in and fright- 
 ened us terribly ! 
 
 Miss P. What was it? 
 
 Annie. Something dreadful! 
 
 Julia. Itwasaghosi! 
 
 MiSs P. Mrs. Gushover, I fear this is something serious. 
 Bridget go and raise the alarm. 
 
 Mrs G. Oh, don't leave us! That horrid thing may come 
 back. Miss Praxis, what's that by the chair? 
 
 Miss P. (Picks up coat.) A man's coat, I declare. It must 
 be a burglar and he's hid some where about. Bridget run for my 
 revolver and call Sourtop. (Bridget runs out L; Mrs. G. groans.) 
 
 Annie. Aside to Julia.) What sJiall we do. The boys may be 
 here any minute and she'll shoot them. 
 
 Julia. (Aside to Annie.) Oh, dear! Tell her it's your broth- 
 er's coat. (Sourtop -with husky voice heard in the closet crying, 
 ^^ Let me out! Vm smothering!''^ 
 
 Annie. \ 
 
 Julia. \ Mercy ! 
 
 Nettie. ) 
 
 Miss P. You're there, you villain, are you? (Enter Bridget 
 -with revolver!) Well, you shall not escape with impunity, "\^e 
 are armed. (Bridget flourishes revolver :) Come out, villain! 
 
 Mrs. G. Spare his life. I'll faint if you shed blood. 
 
 Sourtop. (In closet.) I can't get out. The door 's locked! 
 Oh, don't shoot! 
 
 Miss P. (Sternly.) Girls, if that door is locked from the out- 
 side there's a mystery some of you can unravel. Where 's the 
 ke^? 
 
TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. 159 
 
 Annie. Indeed, Miss Praxis, I know nothing about it. I saw 
 the door ajar a few minutes ago and locked it. That's all I know. 
 {Produces key. Miss P. futs key in the lock.\ 
 
 Mrs. G. Oh, don't let him out. Miss Praxis. He'll kill us all. 
 Send ior the police! 1 must lind mj poor child! Will you call 
 the police.'* 
 
 Miss P. Stay where you are ! I want no police prying around 
 here. 
 
 Sourtop. Please let me out! 
 Miss P. Robber, are you unarmed? 
 Sourtop, Yes. 
 Miss P. Will you resist.'' 
 Sourtop. Mercy on us, no! 
 
 Mi^s P. Remember I have a revolver pointed at your head. 
 {Sourtop screams.) 
 
 Bridget. An' I have a bloody big butcher knife pinted at youi 
 throat, ye murderin' villain. {Sourtop screams again. Miss P. opens 
 door cautiously; Sourtop rushes into her arms and screams " mur- 
 der:' 
 
 Miss P. {Starts.) Good gracious how you shock me! Miss 
 Sourtop what does this mean.? Why didn't you say it was you.? 
 Sourtop. Oh, goodness ! mercy ! I was so frightened I didn't 
 know you. 
 
 Miss P. {Sternly.) How came you in that closet? 
 Sourtop. Miss Praxis, I was inspecting the closet. As I found 
 the door ajar I stepped inside and some one suddenly locked the 
 door. 
 
 Annie. {Aside to girls.) Good enough for the meddling old 
 thing. 
 
 Miss P. Then the burglar is concealed some where on this 
 floor. I'll find him. 
 
 Mrs, G. Miss Praxis, I insist you shall find my child. I insist. 
 Gushover pays his money. She's murdered in cold gore I know. 
 Miss P. It you're child is where she should be she is safe in 
 bed, asleep. We'll try the bed room. {Belle rushes out of bed 
 room; Mrs. G. clasps her in her arms.) 
 Mrs. G. My precious! Thank Heaven you're safe, darling. 
 Miss P. Miss Gushover, have you seen him.? 
 Belle. Goodness, no! Seen whom.? {Aside.) Have the boys 
 been discovered.? 
 
 Miss P. 6"e«?» 2t'//<?;w,' Why the burglar, of course. Miss Soiu-- 
 top, did you observe this coat as you entered the room.? 
 Sourtop. No! the villain must have followed me. 
 Annie. Miss Praxis, that coat belongs to my brother John. 
 His box came to me by mistake, and mine went to him. 
 Mrs. G. Do tell! Well I never! 
 
 Miss P. {Severely.) Then why didn't you say so at once and 
 save all this confusion, to say nothing of the danger to these 
 _) oung ladies. Your conduct deserves a severe reprimand. 
 
 Anttie. If you please. Miss Praxis, what was the good in say- 
 ing so when there was a villain in the closet. 
 
i6o TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. 
 
 Sourtof. Miss Annie,observe that such language toward your 
 superiors is very impolite, not to say reprehensible. Your con- 
 duct, too, in locking that door was positively shameful. With 
 your approval. Miss Praxis, I will make the penalty a week's de- 
 tention at play hours. 
 
 Mrs. G. Bold thing! I'm glad my Belle haint taken up with 
 iliat girl. 
 
 Julia. Please, Miss Sourtop, she wasn't to blame. I know 
 some one else came into the room. They were ghosts! Gracious! 
 I can't bear to think about it! 
 
 Sourtop. I am ashamed of you, Julia! To talk of spectres. 
 Before strangers, too! One would think you read of nothing but 
 ghosts. Shame! 
 
 Belle. {Aside) We must get them away before the boys come. 
 (A/ottd.) Indeed, Miss Praxis, Nettie and I are to blame. We 
 were only in fun. We wrapped sheets around us to play a joke 
 on the girls, and some one coming frightened us all. 
 
 Mrs. G. (Laughs.) Well, really, that child is gettin' quite 
 jolly. (Laughs.) 
 
 Nettie. We thought you would not care! Please forgive us 
 this time and we'll never do so again. 
 
 Belle. ) 
 
 Annie. > No, never! 
 
 Julia. ) 
 
 Bridget. (Aside.) Niver till there's another foine chance. 
 
 Miss P. Girls, you all see how your silly pranks might result 
 serioMsly, but as the fright you have endured seems to be suffi- 
 cient punishment, I will forgive you this time. 
 
 Sourtop. {Aside.) Well, I wouldn't! {Alotid.) Miss Praxis 
 I''m convinced there's a f?ian concealed about this house and I 
 shall not rest till he's discovered. 
 
 Miss P. I think you are mistaken, perhaps.^ 
 
 Sourtop. The girls haven't made this matter clear to my mind. 
 I'll see for myself. Miss Praxis, I'd be obliged to you for that 
 revolver. 
 
 Mrs. G. Well, she must be a bold woman! I'd faint at the 
 thought. 
 
 Miss P. If you must, I'll accompany you. Bridget, please 
 bring a light. 
 
 Bridget. And the butcher knife.? 
 
 Miss P. {Laughing. Takes lamp.) Yes. Mrs. Gushover will 
 you accompany us.'* 
 
 Mrs. G. Oh, the idea of hunting in the dark for a horrid man. 
 It's perfectly dreadful! 
 
 Bridget. Shure, an' if he knew who was after him he'd be 
 lavin at onct. 
 
 Mrs. G. I'll retire to my room immediately. Go to your room 
 precious. {To Belle.) 
 
 Belle. Yes, ma! {Exeunt Miss P., Mrs. G. and Sourtop, BHdget 
 following. The girls beckon to latter and she stops.) 
 
 Annie, Oh, Bridget, will you tell on us ? 
 
TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. i6i 
 
 Bridget. Faith, an' I think not, for I knows nothin' to tell yit. 
 But I have me own opinions of the matter. 
 
 Annie. Cousin Fred was coming up with some of the boys. 
 Run to the hall of the wing and watch for them. Sourlop will 
 shoot them if thej climb onto the roof. 
 
 Bridget. An' why do they be climbin'_on thereof when there's 
 a stairway up the stairs. -* 
 
 Annie. But Fred couldn't get permission to bring the others. 
 
 Nettie. \ 
 
 Belle. \ Oh, do! They'll be shot. 
 
 Julm. ) 
 
 Bridget. An' you be wantin' me to desave Miss Praxis, the 
 dear girl, an' ould Sourtop. 
 
 Annie. We promised her we'd never do it again, and we won't. 
 I'll give you half my cake. 
 
 Bridget. Shure, an' it's no bribes I'll be taken' of yez, if you've 
 a mind to make me a prisint of some cake, well an' good; I'll be 
 after tellin' ould Sourtop the gintleman jumped off the roof and 
 run away. 
 
 Nettie. Oh, No! 
 
 Annie. Don't say a word ! 
 
 Belle. You mustn't tell for the world! 
 
 Bridget Troth an' be aisy darlints, I meant the burglars instid 
 ot the gintlemen. 
 
 Belle. That will do! Hark! {All listen.) Hurry, Bridget, 
 they're on the roof now. {Bridget runs out L.) 
 
 jtdia. Mercy ! I'm frightened to death. 
 
 Belle. Good land ! That 's nothing, if it hadn't spoiled all our 
 fun. 
 
 Annie. I'll never risk it again ! 
 
 Julia. Nor I ! 
 
 Nettie. Nor ] ! 
 
 Belle. Well, I guess I'll not either, for it's too much risk. 
 
 Enter Sourtop Z, tutth revolver. 
 
 Sourtop. Young ladies! it is high time you were all in bed. 
 Go to your rooms at once! Only think of the trouble you've 
 caused. It's worrying the life out of me by inches! I'll never 
 consent to stay here another term ; I can't stand it. 
 
 Belle. [Aside.) That news is too good to be true. 
 
 Sourtop. Are you going to your rooms? 
 
 All. Yes, ma'am, we're going ! 
 
 Enter Bridget hastily, L. 
 
 Bridget. If you plaze, ma'am, the gintlemen all jumped off the 
 roof and cleared themselves {Girls scream.) 
 Sourtop. The gentlemen! What gentlemen? 
 Bridget. I mane the burgulars \ 
 
x62 TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. 
 
 Sourtop. Then, why didn't you say burglars? The idea of cal- 
 ling a burglar a gentleman ! Young ladies, to bed at once! 
 
 All. Yes, ma'am! {Exit Sota top, L.) 
 
 Annie. Here, Bridget, is your cake! {Ctits large piece of cake.) 
 
 Bridget. Thank yez! Pat an' me will have a little tay party 
 in the kitchen Pat's waitin' for me! 
 
 Atinie. Well, I never! 
 
 Belle. Did you ever! Bridget, your time to be found out is 
 coming. 
 
 Bridget. Troth, an' Pat comes in through the cellar windy. 
 He'll niver be riskin' his bones climbin' a lightnin' rod. {Exit L.) 
 
 yulia. Thank goodness, we're out of this scrape! 
 
 Annie. It was a close shave, I tell you. 
 
 Nettie, You'll not catch me playing ghost soon again. 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
COUNTRY JUSTICE. 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 Justice of the Peace. 
 
 Spludge, Plaintiff. 
 Fudge, Defendant. 
 Attorney for Plaintiff. 
 Attorney for Defendant. 
 Bulge. ] 
 
 Jenks. [ Witnesses. 
 Smith, j 
 
 Jury. 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 The "Jury" should have a rustic and somewhat dilapidated ap- 
 pearance. Spludge, plain suit; Fudge, very rustic, seedy and batter- 
 ed ; Justice, plain and rustic ; Lawyers, plain suits. 
 
 J\^ofg. — When there are not a sufficient number of characters to fur- 
 nish a jury, by a very slight change in the wording of the piece, the 
 jury may be omitted and the decision rendered by the Justice. 
 
COUNTRY JUSTICE.* 
 
 Scene. — Room in a farm Jiouse; table ivith ink^ "writing- paper, laiv 
 books, etc.; chairs and spittoon ; Justice of the Peace seated behind 
 the table; Plaintiff and his Attorney right of Justice; Defendant 
 and his Atto?-ney left of Justice; Jury of six left of Defendant; three 
 ■witnesses right of Plaintiff. Court discovered in session. 
 
 Justice. The next case is Spludge versus Fudge. Counsel for 
 plaintift" will please open the case. 
 
 Atfy for Plain. If it please jour Honor, the facts of the case I 
 will briefly recount as hereinafter enumerated, amplified and de- 
 tailed {Reads. Jury look -wise and attentive.) Spludge versus 
 Fudge, in re sugar kettle. Be it known and understood that one 
 Spludge (my worthy client, the plaintiflf in this case,) was seized 
 and possessed of an evaporating caldron, otherwise known as a 
 sugar kettle. Be it also known that one Fudge, the defendant in 
 this case [Scoivls at Fudge.) was seized and possessed of a sugar 
 camp. Be it further known that said Fudge was not seized 
 of the requisite number of said metalic caldrons, otherwise 
 known as sugar kettles, to evaporate to a granular consistency, 
 otherwise known as maple sugar, the unelaborated fluids of said 
 sugar trees, otherwise known as sugar sap or simply sugar water. 
 Be it moreover and further known that said Fudge did apply to 
 said Spludge for the loan of a sugar kettle, and that said Spludge, 
 having every reason to suppose that said Fudge was acting in 
 good faith, did loan said Fudge one sugar kettle, said kettle to be 
 returned in good condition. (Mark me, in good condition.) Now, 
 your Honor and honorable jury, said kettle has never been re- 
 turned, and, to the best of the knowledge and beliet of my worthy 
 client, said kettle is now in a cracked and useless condition. 
 Mr. Spludge brings action to recover the value true and 
 proper of the aforesaid kettle. Your Honor, to sustain the facts 
 hereinbefore enumerated, we offer the testimony of our worthy 
 townsman Mr. Bulge, and others. 
 
 Justice. The counsel for defendant will state the defense. 
 
 Att'y for Def Your Honor, and the very honorable jury: 
 Our case is briel and as clear as day. We submit to this honor- 
 able court and jury the following points for your consideration: 
 
 First, The detendent is seized and possessed of a suflicient 
 number of sugar kettles of his own to run his sugar camp. 
 
 * This dialogue is founded on the old story of the man who borrowed a sugar 
 kettle, and was sued for its value on Jailing to return it in good condition. Although 
 the author has never seen the slory in print, it is probably familiar to most yersons. 
 
i66 COUNTRY JUSTICE. 
 
 The inevitable conclusion then is, that he did not borrow one. 
 
 Second, The defendant has no recollection of having borrowed 
 a kettle from plaintiff, and I ask this honorable court if my client 
 ts a man likley to forget. Look at him. I scorn the insinuation. 
 
 Third, The defendant is a man of very careful habits. Hence, 
 we are forced to conclude that he did not break, crack, mar, 
 deface, batter, pound, or otherwise maltreat the defendant's kettle. 
 
 Fourth, My client is a man of unimpeachable integrity and 
 well known punctuality in his business, (Just look at him, your 
 honor and gentlemen of the jury), hence the inference that he 
 returned the kettle long ago crushes us with its ponderous 
 weight of probability. The weight of this point is apparent when 
 we remember that the kettle was alleged to have been borrowed 
 in sugar-making, and that we are now in the midst of husking 
 frolics and quilting bees. 
 
 Fifth, The damages claimed by the plaintiff, viz., one dollar 
 and a half, are excessive. Just think of paying one dollar and a 
 half for cracking a sugar kettle. Your Honor, it is abiurd! 
 {Vehemently.) Honorable jury, it is rank injustice. With due 
 respect to the Court, I dont believe the plaintiff ever owned a 
 kettle worth more than six bits. We are ready for the testimony. 
 
 Justice. Mr. Bulge, will you take the stand? (Bulge takes 
 •witness's chair, right of Justice, in front.) 
 
 Atty for Plain. Mr. Bulge, please state to the jury what you 
 know about this case. 
 
 Bulge. I reckon Mr. Lawyer, that I don't know a great sight 
 about it. I never seed the kittle in my life, as I knows on. 
 
 Atty for Plain. What do you know about the borrowing of the 
 kettle.? 
 
 Bulfre. I'm comin' to that. You see, I was down in the big 
 woods one day in sugar makin', lookin' arter somethin' that hed 
 been killin' my chickens. I hed forty big hens I was feedin' up 
 on chopped meat and eggshells, so they would lay eggs for Easter. 
 Nothin' like chopped meat — 
 
 Atty for Plain. Please omit preliminaries. 
 
 Bulge. Which — what.? 
 
 Atty for Plain. Confine yourself to the essentials. {Bulge 
 looks fuzzled, scratches his head.) Come to the point at once. 
 
 Bul^e. Dang it! that 's jest what I'm doing if you 'd let me. 
 {Takes out iinmejise colored handkerchief and -wipes his face, blows his 
 nose, chars his throat.) Kinder phthisicky weather, Squire. 
 
 Atty for Plain. Please proceed. 
 
 Bulge, Well, as I was sayin', there 's nothin' like chopped 
 meat to make hens lay. But a coon or possum or some other 
 varmint come an' tuk one every night for six nights hand runnin'. 
 It riled me; it did, by jingo! I <ihouldered my gun detarmined 
 to spoil that chap's fun if I could. I tuk straight down the crick, 
 an' when I come to the lower end of the pint — 
 
 Atty for Plain. {Testily.) Please tell what vou know about 
 this case. You will never get to the point at tiiat latc. 
 
COUNTRY JUSTICE. 167 
 
 Bulge, Wrong there, Mr. Lawyer, for I've jest got to the />i?it. 
 I started straight up the pint through the woods, and found Bill 
 Fudge's oldest boj haulin' wood for the sugar camp. He axed 
 me if I could loan them a kittle, seein' as how they were one 
 short, I told him — 
 
 Fudffe. {y/iinps up excitedly.) That aint so! We had plenty 
 of kitfles, but one had a sand hole in it an' we plugged that up. 
 
 Att'y for Plain. {Jumps tip excitedly.) I wish to enquire, your 
 honor, whether this Honorable Court and the witnesses are to be 
 insulted, bullied, and intimidated by the defendant; instigated as 
 he doubtless has been bv other parties. {Looks at opposing attor- 
 ney.) I will not say whom. 
 
 Atty for Def. The fling of my opponent ' is unworthy of 
 answer, and derogatory to the dignity of this court and the bar in 
 general. My client may be excused any apparent hastiness of 
 manner; realizing, as he does, the unscrupulous efforts made to 
 crush him and blacken his character. 
 
 Fudge. I swear it's all a tarnation lie about my bein' short one 
 kittle. 
 
 Justice. Silence, if you please! I reckon this court ain't 
 obleeged to stand no sich interruptions nohow you can fix it. 
 {To Bulge.) Go on with your testimony. 
 
 Bul^e. Well, when Fudge's boy axed me about that ar kittle, 
 I told^him I 'lowed he could git one at Spludge's, an he said he 
 would go up arter it. 
 
 Atfyfor Plain. Then you understood that virtually the defen- 
 dant's son borrowed Mr. Spludge's kettle at the time, by informing 
 you he would accept the use of said kettle.'' 
 
 Bulge. Dunno about that! dunno, mister! All I know is, I 
 told him I thought he could git it, an' he said he s'posed he v:otdd 
 git it, an' I sawSpludge in the road goin' home an' told him I 
 'lowed they'd git the kittle. 
 
 Atfy for Plain. In the eyes of the law that constitutes a con- 
 tract. {Looks meaniyigly at jury.) Z//a/ point will impress itself 
 upon all as conclusive. 
 
 Att'yfor Def Did you see the Defendant or his son get the 
 kettle.? 
 
 Bulge. No. 
 
 Att'^y for Def Do you know positively that either of them 
 ever did get it.^* 
 
 Bulge. Well, not to a dead sartainty, but I believe they did. 
 Couldn't swear to it. 
 
 Att'y for Def, The honorable jury will notice that the witness 
 does not really know whether the defendant ever got the kettle in 
 dispute at all. Call the next witness. 
 
 Justice, John Smith will take the stand. 
 
 Att'y for Plain. Mr. Smith, are you acquainted with the parties 
 in this case.? 
 
 Smith. Slightly! 
 
 AtVy for Plain. How long have you known them? 
 
i68 COUNTRY JUSTICE. 
 
 Smith. About twenty years, off and on. 
 
 Affy for Plain. Tiveuty years! How old are you? 
 
 bmith. About twenty seven. 
 
 AWy for Plain. About twenty seven ! Mr. Smith you are un- 
 der oath. Please state your age, exactly. 
 
 Smith. I was twenty seven last Friday, June 20th, at four 
 o'clock in the morning. 
 
 Any for Plain. Ah, indeed! Remarkably precise, I see. State 
 to the jury what you know about the case under consideration. 
 
 Smiih. I don't know anything about it. 
 
 Aify for Plain. Did plaintiff, Mr. Spludge, ever loan a kettle 
 to the defendant Fudge .^ 
 
 Smith. Don't know. 
 
 Att'y for Plai7i. Why were you summoned in this case? 
 
 Smith. Don't know. 
 
 Spludge. I had him summoned to prove that I owned a kettle. 
 
 Atfy tor Plain. Does the plaintiff, to your knowledge, own a 
 kettle.? 
 
 Smith. He does. 
 
 Atfyfor Def. How do you know that plaintiff owns a kettle? 
 
 Smith. Spludge's wife told Nate Ripley's wife, last spring, that 
 they bought a new kettle, and Mrs. Ripley told my wife she guess- 
 ed we could get a kettle there when we wanted one. 
 
 Foreman of Jury. Square, if it aint agin the rules, I'd like to 
 ax a question. 
 
 Justice. I reckon nobody will object. 
 
 Foreman. Mr. Smith, moughtn't this ere kettle of Spludge's be 
 an apple-sass kiltie. My old woman 's borrowed Spludge's apple- 
 sass kittle nigh onto sixteen year, I reckon. 
 
 Smith. Couldn't say. Never saw it. 
 
 Atfyfor Def Your honor, the testimony of the witness is en- 
 tirely irrelevant. I object to its introduction. 
 
 Justice. I heerd nothin irreverent about Smith's langwige. I've 
 heerd him spell a whole line at a time when he was plowin' in 
 stumpy ground, but it's a leetle too much to say he cussed when 
 he didn't. 
 
 Atty for Def. I meant, your Honor, it was useless. It should 
 be ruled out. 
 
 Justice. If it's useless I reckon we'll let it go for what its 
 worth. 
 
 Atfy for Plain. Mr. Jenks will take the stand. {Je?iks comes to 
 chair.) Mr. Jenks, state briefly what you know concerning the 
 facts in the present case. 
 
 Jenhs. Last spring, about the close of sugar making, I was 
 down in the big woods hunting squirrels. I passed Fudge's su- 
 gar shanty and stopped awhile. Fudge's boy was tending the ket- 
 tles and I had a chat with him. He said they had a kettle bor- 
 r'^wed from Spludge and that it was cracked. He askt-d me il I 
 woald tell Spludge, if I saw him, that the kettle was cracked, and 
 say to him that they would make it all right 
 
COUNTRY JUSTICE. ,169 
 
 Attfy for Plain. Did you inform Mr. Spludge, as requested? 
 
 yejiks. Fact is, I did not see him for a right smart while, and 
 then I clean torgot it. 
 
 Atfy for Def. Do you know positively that said kettle was 
 never returned.'' 
 
 JenJis. I do not. 
 
 Atfy for Def. Then considering the unimpeachable character 
 of my client, the presumption is overwhelming that it was, and 
 the damages made good. Is that all your testimony.!* [To Atfy.) 
 
 Atfy for Plain. Our case is so clear we shall mtroduce nothing 
 more. I shall not even submit an argument to the honorable jury. 
 A mere statement of the facts plainly proved, will be all sufficient. 
 In the first place, we have clearly proved by two men good and 
 true, that all the intents, purposes and determinations of defend- 
 ant Fudge were to borrow said sugar kettle of plaintiff Spludge. 
 Secondl}^ we have proved beyond the peradventure ot a doubt, 
 that said Fudge did, through his son, obtain and use to its detri- 
 ment, said caldron or kettle. Said detriment consists of a crack 
 beginning, according to the best information, at a point near the 
 lower portion of said vessel, and ascending thence obliquely and 
 sinuously to the perimeter of the caldron, otherwise know^n as 
 the rim, and terminatmg at a point where the suspensory appara- 
 tus is attached, known as the bail. Thirdly, that the kettle refer- 
 red to has ever been returned, or the damage made good , the de- 
 fense do not even pretend to assert. {Eloquently) Gentlemen of 
 the jury, can the &un in the heavens at noon-day be more plain 
 than the facts in this case.'' I have no doubts of the position of 
 my client. I can have none. There can be but one verdict, and 
 in that verdict I see with prophetic eye the vindication of the 
 majesty of the law ; justice triumphant ; the evil doer punished ; the 
 down trodden lifted on high, and righteousness exalted. That 
 verdict will tear asunder with the hand of a giant the slimy folds 
 of the inighty serpent fraud, which would crush the very vitals 
 of society, and strike a death blow at the institutions of our glori- 
 ous country. Gentlemen of the jury, we trust to your patriotism, 
 your love of justice, and above all to the more than ordinary 
 intelligence I see in every feature of the honest countenances be- 
 fore me. {Takes his seat.) 
 
 Atfy for Def Gentlemen of the jury, few words are necessary 
 in closing this argument. My client's case is based on the bed 
 rock of eternal justice, and no wilj' sophistry nor high-flown ora- 
 tory can pluck it thence. {Looks hard at Atfy for Plain.) The 
 prosecution has failed to prove that my client ever borrowed a 
 kettle of Spludge. No one saw him borrow it. No one heard him 
 say he borrowed it. He avers he did not. The fact that the ket- 
 tle was broken rests on the unsupported evidence of a single wit- 
 ness. Not the most reliable, I am sorry to say, either. 
 
 yenks. {Jumps up excitedly and collars speaker:) Take that 
 back Mister, or I'll punch your head ! I won't be called a liar. 
 
 Justice. Order ! Order in the court. {Several seize Jenks and 
 seat him.) 
 
I70 COUNTRY JUSTICE. 
 
 Jenks. {Struggling.) Let me at him! I'll break the rascal's 
 head for him ! 
 
 Justice, Order! Order! 
 
 Att'y for Def. Concerning the return of the kettle it is unnec- 
 essary to speak, as the prosecution have entirely omitted that 
 point. Now, gentlemen of the jury, I will draw a picture. My 
 client is a poor man. He toils for his daily bread. Unlike the 
 plaintiff, he is not possessed of a broad estate. His little farm is 
 scarce sufficient to furnish sustenance for his estimable family, 
 consisting of a wife and sixteen children, ranging from the cher- 
 ub in the mother's arms up to the sturdy, honest-hearted youth 
 who tends the sugar camp. Does anyone suppose for an instant 
 that my client, a man of unimpeachable character, would willingly 
 commit waste on the property of another.? Why, gentlemen, the 
 pangs of conscience would carry him to a premature grave. Ev- 
 ery time he sweetened his tea during his frugal repast, conscience 
 would whisper in his ear, " You hav'nt paid for that kettle yet." 
 Every time his little prattling child toddled to the cupboard, and 
 in artless tones lisped its wishes for maple sugar, the thoughts of 
 that damaged kettle would rise like a spectre of doom, and harrass 
 him. Every time he visited the country store and saw the tempt- 
 ing bars of sugar arranged on the shelves, his conscience would 
 prick him with a thousand darts. Such a life would be unendura- 
 ble, and would leave its traces. Gentlemen of the jury, does my 
 client look like a man whoi>e conscience troubles him.? (Pauses.) 
 Not a bit of it. '■'-Fiat justifia mat coelum^'' Which means, freely 
 translated. " Give the poor man the benefit of a doubt." {Seats 
 hitnself.) 
 
 Justice. The jury will now retire and bring in a verdic'. I have 
 no particular instructions, only stick to the law and facts. And 
 don't forget that you are tryin' to heal differences between neigh- 
 bors. {Jury retire and return in a few seconds.) 
 
 Foreman. Mr. Square, an' feller citizens: we've decided unan- 
 imous onto the follerin' verdic'. Fudge must take that ere kettle 
 and get it fixed. Bu Ige and Jenks orter pay the cost of the fixin', 
 Spludge orter pay the cost of the lawin'. We thought we'd 
 make it as easy as we could by sorter everagin'' it. 
 
 Atfy for Plain. Your honor, I object to that verdict. It is 
 not according to law. 
 
 AtVy for Def. It ought to relieve my client of all responsibil- 
 ity. Besides, Messrs. Bulge and Jenks are not parties to the suit. 
 
 Bulge. {Excitedly.) Jest what I was goin' to say, Jedge. I 
 can't see as Pm mixed up into this ere suit, nohow you can fix it. 
 
 Jenks. Hanged if I'll pay any costs for other people's business. 
 
 Justice. I 'low that verdic' had better stand. If it aint law it's 
 justice. Sposin' Bulge hadn't said anything about that kittle! It 
 wouldn't been borried, and if Jenks had spoken to Spludge about 
 the damages when Fudge's boy told him to, there most likelj 
 would have been no lawsuit. So I reckon they'd better come in 
 for their share of the cost. 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
BORROWING TROUBLE, 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 Mr. Borrow. 
 
 Mrs. Borrow. 
 
 Miss Sophy Borrow. 
 
 Mrs. Mehitable March. 
 Mrs. Wiggins. 
 
 • LiNA. 
 
 Detective Spotem. 
 Dr. Drench. 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 Any clothing suited to the social standing of the 
 character. 
 
 SITUATIONS. 
 
 R means right as the actor faces the audience; Z, 
 leit; C, center. 
 
 Steam Press of 
 Lushing, Thomas &. Co., 170 Clark St. 
 
BORROWING TROUBLE. 
 
 ScENK. — Lodgings in tenement house. Room rather cheaply fur- 
 nished, -with attempt at display. Table a7id chairs. Sofa rear. 
 Overcoat visible hanging on tvall. 
 
 Mrs. W. {Pacifig floor.) Well, I never did see in all my days 
 the like of these Borrows. I've been a widow twenty long years, 
 and have kept lodgers for fifteen ot that time, and the likes of 
 them never before set foot in my house. {Picks up a shazvl.) I 
 declare, if there isn't Mrs. Wait's shawl. Mrs. Borrow got the 
 loan of that two weeks ago, just to wear that day, as she said, and 
 here she's kept it ever since. And if here is n't my Jack's shoe 
 brush that Mr. Borrow got a month ago, and the boy thought it 
 was lost ever since. {Takes shoe brush.) Well, really, I suppose 
 they've borrowed every last thing they have, so I'd better look 
 out for my rent and not wait any long'er for that little remittance. 
 Goodness knows! why dont \.\\<ty board instead of keeping house. 
 They've borrowed enough of me to keep a small family. First, 
 it is a cup of sugar, next a pint of milk, then a half dozen eggs. 
 And, strange to say, they never think of returning them. 
 
 Enter L. Detective Spotem. 
 
 Spotem. Good day, Madam ! Are these the lodgings of Mr. 
 Borrow.'* 
 
 Mrs. W. They are, sir. 
 
 Spotem. Have I the honor of addressing Mrs. Borrow.' 
 
 Mrs. IV. Oh, no sir. I am Mrs. Wiggins, who owns this 
 building and lets rooms to married or single persons. Do you 
 wish rooms, sir.? 
 
 Spotem. No, Madam. My business is with Mr. Borrow. 
 Could you inform me where he can be seen.'' 
 
 Afrs. TV. I think the family have gone out. I can ascertain 
 definitely by askmg their servant. (Exit P.) 
 
 Spotem. Now Mr. Borrow, I've got you. In spite of your cun- 
 ning and your assumed names, you can't escape me this time. 
 You may be out, but you'll reiurn. {Looks around the room; sees 
 overcoat on wall.) Ha! the very proof I wanted. That is the 
 overcoat I've been shadowing all last spring. So I've run into 
 your den at last, and before two hours you and your counterfeit 
 money will both be mine. {Chuckles quietly.) Well vou've 
 manged this pretty cute, old Spotem. You have, for a fact, 
 and the whole country will be ablaze with your fame. It was 
 
174 BORROWING TROUBLE. 
 
 lucky I didn't share this case with any one. It will make my 
 fortune, and the name of Detective Spotem will soon be on every- 
 body's tongue. People will say, "He's a sly fox," "Sharp as a 
 steel trap," etc. 
 
 Enter Mrs. W., R. 
 
 Mrs. W. The family have gone, sir, for a walk, Will you 
 leave any word? 
 
 Spotem. No! I will call again shortly. Good day. Madam! 
 {Exit L.) 
 
 Mrs. W. Now what does he want, I wonder? These strangers 
 who take rooms, have so many callers that one never can find out 
 anything about. 
 
 Enter Lina, R, 
 
 Mrs. W. Lina, who was that gentleman that just passed down 
 stairs ? 
 
 Lina. Don't know, Missa. 
 
 Mrs. W. Your master has a great many friends, has n't he, 
 Lina.? 
 
 Lina. If he has, dah 's a good many of dem not berry good 
 ones. 
 
 Mrs. W. Why, Lina? 
 
 Litia. Case good friends gives to each other, but Massa's 
 friends don't give him anything, so he's 'bliged to borrj nearly 
 everything he buys for family use. It was an awful trouble last 
 place I was at to cook de wittles, but it's a mighty heap bigger 
 job here to get a meal ready, 'case I has to borry de eatables fust 
 an' cook 'em arterward. An' then Massa and Missa worrits so it 
 de wittles ain't good, an' folks don't lend 'em de best. 
 
 Mrs. W. Do they scold or ill treat you? 
 
 Lina. Law i^ave you no! They're the resignedst folks you 
 ever seen, as Missa has said a thousan' times. Why one day 
 Massa worritted so he couldn't eat, 'case one of de eggs I borried 
 wasn't prezactly fresh. It got broke into de skillet lore I knowed 
 an' spiled de dish, for de family leastways. I pitied him, I did, I 
 could jest crammed de eggs down the throat of ole Mrs. Smith 
 who lent them. De idee of sendin' rotten eggs to a family of 
 quality ! Missa an' Miss Sophy jest grieved their eyes nearly out 
 because of that disastah. De women folks are jest de most 
 tenderest angels I eber seed. 
 
 Mrs. W. {Going L.) Then you are happy here Lina, are you? 
 
 Lina. Happy as a tree frog in a wet day! But I'll be awful 
 glad when pay day comes. Been here a month an' hain't had a 
 cent, but Massa says he eyi^ecis ^crimttances. 
 
 Mrs. W. I wish he hurry and get them. What use are 
 promises to a widow with a family? {Exit L.) 
 
 Lina. It 's a shame that as good a man has Massa hain't got 
 money. He sajs he's the wictim of circumstances, an' I believe 
 it for a fac' I do. 
 
BORROWING TROUBLE. 175 
 
 Enter Mr. and Mrs. Borrow and Sophy, L. 
 
 Mrs. B. (Throwing off bonnet and shaivl.) Lina, have you 
 made arrangements for tea? 
 
 Lina. Beg pahdon ! but dah's nuffin to arrange. 
 
 Mrs. B. Oh my! when will our remittances arrive, my dear? 
 
 Mr B. Not until next week I fear, love. 
 
 Mrs. B. Lina, you must manage it somehow. Try the 
 neighbors again. 
 
 Lina. De fac' is I've vianaged nearly all de neighbors already. 
 
 Mrs. B. Try a new place. Have we any butter? 
 
 Li7ia. No, Ma'am. 
 
 Mrs. B. Any milk? 
 
 Lina. No, Missa. 
 
 Mrs. B. Any bread? 
 
 Lina 
 
 dinn 
 
 er 
 
 . Law sakes, don't you ^member there wasn't enough for 
 
 Mrs. B. Lina, run down to Mrs. Lamb's and ask her for a 
 loaf. Tell her we'll return it to-morrow. 
 
 Lina. Laws Missa we's borried two or three loaves from her, 
 to say nuffin about eggs an' sugar an' coffee. 'Spose 'praps likely 
 you's forgot it, but de articles haven't been returned home again. 
 
 Mrs. B. Never mind that, Lina. Mrs. Lamb is such a good 
 soul she'll let you have the loaf and say nothing about it. Ask 
 Mrs. Grey for a small piece of butter, and Mrs. Wiggins will let 
 you have milk. Hurry up, Lina, it is tea time. 
 
 Mr. B. Hold a minute, Lina. Mrs. Borrow, I've told you often 
 that the cares of housekeeping are too great for you; I w;7/ re- 
 lieve you, in spite of yourself. I brought a can of oysters on trial, 
 a new brand. The groceryman is giving samples away at first to 
 build up custom; wants my trade. Bring plenty of milk for a 
 stew, Lina. Have you salt? 
 
 Lina. NoSah! 
 
 Mr. B, Mrs. Wiggins will attend to that. Have you plenty 
 of pepper? 
 
 Lina. Not a speck. 
 
 Mr. B. Mrs. Wiggins is very kind. She will manage that also. 
 I must have oysters well seasoned. My stomach isn't whatit 
 once was. Vinegar, butter! I can't go \nto details. Just bring one of 
 Mrs. Wiggins' castors, pepper, mustard, vinegar and ail. (Exit 
 Lina, L,) 
 
 Mrs. B. Poor man! Trouble is just wearing you out! Mr. 
 Borrow, do sit down and rest yourself, so you may have an appe- 
 tite tor dinner. You know your stomach needs attention. 
 
 Mr. B Yes, madam, I am aware that it does. I am sorry to 
 say it often needs attention that a man who is the victim of cir- 
 cumstances is unable to bestow. 
 
 Mrs. B. It's a shame that such a noble, kind-heartdJ man, who 
 has devoted a whole life to the service of the " Society for the 
 Advancement of Benevolence, Philanthropy, and Exalted Fellow 
 
176 BORROWING TROUBLE. 
 
 ship among the Jarring Elements ol Discordant Mankind," should 
 be the victim of hard-hearted, relentless circumstances. I hate 
 circumstances. Thej are the bar to all true progress! {Enter 
 Lina^ ivitk castor^ loaf of bread and fitcher of milk. She proceeds 
 to set table, R C.) 
 
 Mr. B. A very true observation, my dear, which w^e toilers 
 for the benefit of mankind have painful occasion to verify. 
 
 Mrs.B. Sophy, will you prepare your Pa's tonic.'* He must 
 have an appetizer", you know. Here is the physician's prescrip- 
 tion. [R<ads.) " Whisky, gin and water, one-half oz each. Add 
 sugar and flavoring to taste. Take before meals." 
 
 Sophy. {In minctv^s;; affected voice) Oh my, don't trouble me 
 with such atfaiis. They properly belong to the servant, and you 
 know the fumes of those horrid "drugs affect my eyes. 
 
 Mrs. B. So they do, my dear. 1 quite forgot that. I will pre- 
 pare the medicine myself. Your Pa must have his tonic. His 
 appetite is not what it once was. 
 
 Mr. B. Qiiite true! Quite true! Indeed I think sometimes it 
 is better that it is not so good. One might be tempted too far in 
 the way of luxuries, and people working for the good of mankind 
 set an example whether they will or not. They should be care- 
 ful and above all avoid luxuries. {Mrs. B. enters kitchen Hy and gets 
 materials for Mr. B's '■'■tonic.'") 
 
 Sophy. Why Papa, our example is quite good, isn't it? 
 
 Mr. B. Certainly my child ! 
 
 Sophy. I aid not dance at Mrs. Flighty's grand ball just on 
 that account. I thought of our circumstances and the cause you 
 have devoted us to, and that nerved me to the sacrifice. {Languishes 
 on sofa.) 
 
 Mr. B. You did very right my child to abstain from dancing. 
 Had you participated in the vanities of the dance it would have 
 been a constant reproach to your poor Pa in his society work. 
 ( Mrs. B, enters with tonic) Ah ! that is very inspiring. {Smacks his 
 lips.) Just the thing for a weak stomach! 
 
 Enter Mrs. Mehitable March. 
 
 Mrs. M. Oh howdy ! I'm so 'fraid I'm intruding. [Rushes up 
 to Mrs. B. and kisses her.) 
 
 Mrs. B. Not at all ; we're so glad to see you ! 
 
 Mrs M. How are you, Miss Borrow? Are you well, Mr. 
 Borrow? {Shakes hands ivith hitn.) 
 
 Mr. B. Very well thank you I This visit is indeed as pleasant 
 as unexpected. 
 
 Mrs. M. {Mrs. M. always speaks as fast as possible without indis- 
 tt7ict)iess.) Mr. Borrow, you don't know how I feel for you. Mrs. 
 Borrow, it does me just as much good to know that he is well as 
 to know that Ephraim is well, or to feel well myself His loss 
 would be a loss to humanity. 
 
 Sophy. {Aside) That old fright has just stopped for her 
 supper. 
 
BORROWING TROUBLE. 177 
 
 Mrs. M. {Taking off bonnet and shatvl.) I didn't think of stop- 
 ping any time; but you are so cozy here really I must. You are 
 so kind I have n't the heart to leave without chatting a while, 
 you will please take my things, Miss Sophy. i^Sofhy drops bonnet 
 and shaivl on thejioor at the end of the sq/a.) 
 
 Lina. {Aside to Mrs. B.) Missa, dah ain't nigh likes enuff 
 wittles for company. 
 Mrs. B. {Aside'.) I wont ask her to tea. She shan't have it. 
 Mrs. M. I dont visit much, and I dont call on everybody. Dear 
 me! I don't like to say much about such things, but ever since 
 Mrs. Wilson eloped and lett her husband, I don't know who to 
 trust. Since we moved up town we've been gitting sorter seX^oX. 
 Ephraim says we're too seX^ct. Only this morning, at breakfast 
 table, he said, "Mehitable, why don't you call on the Borrows.'*" 
 An' says I, I will. So I just run in this afternoon to chat a min- 
 ute. It does me good to hear Mr. Borrow talk. I heard him lec- 
 ture once. 
 
 Mr.B. Ah! Indeed.? 
 Mrs. M. The sentiments he expressed was very beautiful. Mrs. 
 Borrow, you've got a mighty smart man, I tell you. 
 Airs. B. {Coldly.) I was aware of that long ago. 
 Mrs. M. {Glances at table.) I just said to Ephraim this 
 morning that I would run in an' hear that man talk. It 's as good 
 as stump speaking any day, or a circus, for that matter. {Mr. B. 
 pdgfts nervously. Mrs. M. glances at the table.) 
 
 Mrs. B. {With offendfd atr.) Of the merits of a circus /can 
 not speak. We do not attend circuses. 
 Mrs. M. Land sake now! do tell! 
 
 Mr. B. I did attend a circus once, a very Ion g time ago. While 
 doubtless entertaining to many, I did not find the performance of 
 the kind calculated to satisfy the longings of a man with aspir- 
 ations to accomplish high, moral and philanthrophic purposes. 
 
 Mrs. M. Well I do say ! Your ideas are so original, I never 
 thought of that. Dear me ! I heard to-day that Mrs. Jenkins and 
 her husband quarrel dreadful, and they've not been married a 
 month! 
 
 Mrs. B. I dare saj' ! I thought as much. 
 
 Mrs. M. {Looks at table.) But did you hear about the cholera. 
 They say it 's come to town at last. They say they're going to 
 take off" everybody to the hospital who takes it. It's dreadful to 
 think of dyin'' in that nasty hospital! People can't be too careful 
 what they eat. I told Ephraim so to-day. Speakin' of eatin', I 
 see you have the table set. Don't let your tea spoil on my 
 account. I'll just sit down with you, for company's sake. 
 
 Mrs. B. {Aside.) Well I never! Mr. Borrow, tea is ready. {All 
 sit to table) You see we are quite unprepared for company. We 
 have nothing but the plain repast we usually spread for own 
 family. 
 
 Mrs. M. Now don't worry on my account, Mrs. Borrow. You 
 know you've just the nicest table. Have you heard about Callie 
 
178 BORROWING TROUBLE. 
 
 Brown? Don't say anything about it, but they do say she takes 
 on dreadful, because her father forbid that beau of hers from 
 comin' into the house again 
 
 ]^rs. B. Its just like /«w, to be so cruel. 
 
 Mr. B. Wife, perhaps, we should add some other little delicacy, 
 since we have company. 
 
 Mrs. B. Mr. Borrow, remember your health. Don't worry 
 about such trifling matters. 
 
 Mrs. M. Goodness me! if he don't attend to domestic affiairs 
 the same as other men. Who'd 'a thought it! ♦ 
 
 Air. B. I consider home duties equally as sacred as those 
 more important ones with which I am burdened, and the duties 
 of home should be attended to whenever opportunity offers a 
 minute from weightier affairs. Lina, will you step into Mrs. 
 Butler's and get one of those cans of strawberries.? Explain! 
 Companj' you know. And if she wouldn't mind it, a small 
 matter of cake. {Exit Lina, L.) You see, Mrs. March, we are 
 entirely unprepared for visitors. But it shall never be said that 
 my family want for anything while / am able to provide for them. 
 
 Mrs. M. But ain't you afraid to set sich a bountiful table when 
 tliere 's so much sickness round.? Cholera comes on awful 
 sudden. They take desperate pains and turn sick in a minnit. 
 An' the least thing will do it. A spoonful of fruit, or a mess of 
 cucumbers. Pears like this tea tasted queer. 
 
 Sophy. Just what I was going to say Ma! 
 
 Mrs. B. {Tastes tea.) It has a queer taste. What can ail it.? 
 
 Mr. B. Perhaps it 's the milk. {Pours out milk and tastes it.) 
 Mrs. Borrow, I fear there is something wrong. This milk has a 
 horrible taste. 
 
 Sophy. Ma, I'm real sick ! {Jumps up from table) 
 
 Mrs. M. Land 'o goodness we'll all die. I know we will. 
 It's the cholera! {All jump up p'om the table.) 
 
 Mrs. B. Mercy me! I teel it in my stomach! 
 
 Mr. B. Don't be alarmed, my dear. I will watch over you. 
 
 Mrs. B. {Groans.) Dear me, take care of yourself. Aren't 
 you sick, too.? 
 
 Mr. B. I feel the subtle poison, but even death shall not 
 frighten me from my post of duty. Lina, run across the street 
 for the Doctor. Call INIrs. Wiggins! 
 
 Lina. Lord 'a mercy! -what 's de matter? If it 's de cholerum 
 we'll all be dead afore de Doctor gets up de fust flight of de stair- 
 way ! {Runs out L for Doctor.) 
 
 Mrs. M. {Groans.) What an awful suddint case! Oh, Mr. 
 Borrow, won't you take me to Ephraim.? I can't die among 
 strangers, and they will take me to the hospital. {Clasps her 
 hands tightly across her stomach.) 
 
 Sophy. Ma, I'm sinking fast! (Groans.) 
 
 Mrs. B. We will go together, daughter. {Groans.) 
 
 Mr. B. {Paces arotivd pr ant tcally ; hands on his stomach) Don*t 
 despair ! I will never desert you ! 
 
BORROWING TROUBLE. 179 
 
 Enter L, Detective Spotem. 
 
 Mrs. M. {Frantically.) Oh take me to Ephraim! 
 
 Sfotem. Couldn't do it, Madam. I haven't Ephraim's ad- 
 dress. 
 
 Mr. B. Who are you, sir, who come into this tenement of 
 stricken humanity to mock the sufferings of your fellow man.'' 
 Wnat do you want.? 
 
 Spotem. Well, sir, I will give you the information you seek to 
 the best of my ability. I am Detective Spotem of the force and I 
 want you. 
 
 Mr. B. You want us! Then all is over! 
 
 Sophy. Oh, Pa, don't let him take us I It would be horrid to 
 die in that place. {Groans.) 
 
 Airs. B. Protect us for a few brief hours more ! It won't be 
 long! {Groans.) 
 
 Mrs. M. Well goodness knows I just won't go into that 
 nasty place for any policeman. Do take me to Ephraim till I can 
 die in his arms. {Groans and holds her hands on her stomach 
 tightly.) This pain is gettin' too awful for human perseverance! 
 
 Sophy. It is perfectly dreadful ! 
 
 Mrs. B. It is excrutiating. 
 
 Mr. B. This pain is certainly very — very — {Holds his stomach 
 ■with both hands.) 
 
 Spotem. Painful, eh"? 
 
 Mrs. M. Oh Ephraim! Ephraim! It would rend your 
 vitals if you knowed what pain your Mehitable suffers. Oh take 
 me to Ephraim ! 
 
 Spotem. Well this case is deuced singular. Have they been 
 partaking too freely of green corn, or are they putting up a job 
 on me.'* I guess it's the latter, for whole families seldom have 
 trouble like this all of a sudden. {P at ic fits all groan.) 
 
 Airs. M. Won't you listen to a dying woman's request and 
 take me to my Ephraim ? 
 
 Spotem. {Looks inte?ttly at Airs. M.) She'll live to see her 
 Ephraim 3'et, I think. I guess they are playing it on me. Can't 
 fool me, though. But it is singulai. I'll make a note of it for 
 my great book entitled " Secrets of the Great Detective Agency." 
 ( Writes rapidly in a book.) 
 
 Mrs. B. Oh, Mr. Borrow, that officer is writing out a commit- 
 ment for us. {Groans.) 
 
 Sophy. Ma, I shall faint if you mention it. 
 
 Air. B. Resign yourselves'^to fate my poor darling. We must 
 go, I suppose. 
 
 Airs. AI. {Indignantly.) I ivonH! Fm going to Ephraim, if I 
 walk every step of the way. 
 
 Spotem. Don't think of walking. Madam. I'll call a hack ifl 
 think it best for you to go at all. 
 
 Mrs. B. Oh, don't send us! 
 
 Sophy. It's real mean! 
 
 Mrs. M. It's perfectly horrid! {All groan^ 
 
i8o BORROWING TROUBLE. 
 
 Spotem. Well, this beats all ! Queer case! (7?<f«^j.) "Case ot 
 Borrow, the counterfeiter. When detective Spotem was about to 
 make the arrest, the whole family of the prisoner were suddenly 
 taken with violent cramps in the region of the stomach, so well 
 feigned as to appear real. Ruse to gain time. One old lady, ap- 
 parently a visitor, but really a shrewd accomplice, kept crying 
 continually to be taken to her Ephraim." {Patients groan.) 
 
 Enter Doctor, Mrs. Wiggins and Lina, L. 
 
 Spoient. {Stepping aside to R.) Hello! What does this mean.? 
 
 Lina. Here dey is, Doctor! Here's de patienters, if dey 's not 
 all clean gone dead. 
 
 Mrs. W. Oh dear! {Wrings her hands.) Just think of it! 
 Cholera in my house! It'll kill us all, and ruin my business. 
 
 Doctor. {Examines patients, feels pulses, /bustles around.) Vio- 
 lent cramping pains in stomach, eh.'' 
 
 All. Yes! yes! {Groan.) 
 
 Doctor. Then it is the incipient stages of genuine Asiatic chol- 
 era, and no mistake. It is a dangerous case, but with proper care 
 I'll try to get you all through safe. I see the patients are not yet 
 reduced m strength, which is very favorable. {Bnsie?, himself 
 ivith medicine case.) {Aside.) It 's lucky that I was called m. It is 
 one of the first cases in town. It won't make a bad item for the 
 morning papers. I see there is a reporter already present. A neat 
 item. "C//c/ft7'«. — An entire family stricken down. Doctor Drench 
 called in. Under his skillful care they are doing well, etc., etc." 
 
 Mrs. M. Oh, Doctor, won't you take me to Ephraim.? 
 
 Doctor. Madam, do not be alarmed, skillful hands are ready to 
 wait on you. {Gives each patient a draught frotn a colored mixture 
 in a goblet.) 
 
 Spotem. Well, this thing does really look serious. Doctor, can 
 I be of any use.? 
 
 Doctor. Ah, reporting ! {Sees Spotem'' s note book.) No, I be- 
 lieve not, {Pauses) except in a professional way ; you understand. 
 
 Spotem. But I don't understand. 
 
 Mrs. W. Doctor, can't I help you some way. If you want 
 any herbs, I always keep 'em. I lived on a farm "once. 'l always 
 make catnip tea an' "penneroil " tea when my boy Jack gits sick. 
 
 Doctor. Madam, I'm sorry to say that ox\\y projcssional ^kWS. 
 can baffle this most dangerous and deadly disease. {Busies himselj 
 making powders.) 
 
 Mrs. M. Doctor, is it ketchin' .? 
 
 Doctor. Excuse me, madam, I didn't understand. 
 
 Mrs. M. Is it ketchin'.? 
 
 Doctor. Madam, I air. glad to say that when fumigation is 
 properly attended to the disease is not contagious. 
 
 Mrs. M. Laws a me! How long is it before fuiyiigation sets 
 inf I wouldn't have Ephi-aim take it for twenty dollars. 
 
 Doctor. Take one of these every ten minutes. {Displays on 
 
BORROWING TROUBLE. iSi 
 
 table a lar<re number of foxvdcrs chmc up in preposterously large pa- 
 pers) I will return in an hour. If anj' thing happens in the 
 meantime, let me know. 
 
 Spotem. {Aside.) I should expect something to happen if those 
 powders are all taken. 
 
 Sophy. Oh deah! if theh's anything I have an aversion to 
 it's powders. 
 
 AJrs. M. I can't bear them ! Oh, won't some one run to Eph- 
 raim and say his Mehitable is dyin'.? 
 
 Mr. B. We will do our best, sir, to follow your instructions. 
 What is your theory of the cause of the disease.^ 
 Doctor. Doubtless detective sewer-pipes! 
 
 Mrs. W. Goodness, no! The pipes froze up last winter and 
 haven't been connected since. 
 
 Doctor. Then doubtless it is the hydrant water! 
 Mrs. W. It aint that either, for / have a good ivell for my 
 lodgers. 
 
 Doctor. [A?/noyed.) Of course the immediate cause is some- 
 thing the family have eaten. {Looks at table, lifts can of stravj- 
 berries tritonphujitly) This explains it all ! 
 
 Lina. Doctor, I jes fotched dem berries in a few minutes ago, 
 an' de family didn't have the smell of a single berry. 
 
 Mrs. B. Doctor, we seldom eat fruit. We first tasted some- 
 thing in the milk. 
 
 Doctor. ( Takes tip milk pitcher.) Why, there is something in 
 this milk. It looks vcll>wish. 
 
 Lina. Well, I nebber hear of de like. 'Spect d;it's my fault! 
 Comin' up de stairs I dropped de mustard out of de castor into 
 de milk, I was so hurried I teetotally forgot all about it. {All 
 laugh except Sophy, Mrs. M. and the Doctor.) 
 Sophy. How perfectly disgusting! 
 
 Mrs. M. It's a shame to treat visitors so, a downright shame. 
 If Ephraim — 
 
 Doctor. (To Borrow.) It's a trick, sir, a conspiracy to rum 
 mv professional reputation. I'll make it a costly trick. My tee 
 is fiftv dollars, and the sooner it is paid the better lor you, sir. 
 [To Spotem.) And you, sir, are a party to this infamous piece ot 
 business. I wager your paper will make a rare display of head 
 lines over it. I'll prosecute you for libel, sir. 
 
 Spotem. Sir, there is evidently some mistake here I was as 
 ignorant as yourself of what has transpired here to-day. 
 Doctor. Aren't you a reporter.'* 
 
 Spotem. Reporter! no; I am Detective Spotem, and seeing 
 that you are through with your professional business, I will begin 
 mine. Mr. Borrow, my business is with you. For some time 
 you have been suspected of being in league with counterfeiters; 
 yesterday a counterfeit $io bill was traced directly to you. You 
 are my prisoner. {Women scream.) 
 
 Mi's. B. Oh, sir, my husband is innocent! 
 Spotem, That he w ill have opportunity to prove. 
 
i82 BORROWING TROUBLE. 
 
 Mrs. M. {Aside.) Well, I always thought these Borrows 
 weren't what they ought to be. 
 
 Mr. B. I borrowed the bill to which you refer. 
 
 Spotem. It is probable that a man in your circumstances 
 would borrozv a paltry $io bill. 
 
 Mrs. \V. He's a great borrower; he is indeed, sir; I can testify 
 to that, besides I heard the queer gentlemen on the third floor 
 say he loaned Mr. Borrow ten dollars. 
 
 Spoievi. That may do, but De.ective Spotem don't hang all his 
 clothes on one peg. Do you know that coat, Mr. Borrow.? [^Points 
 to overcoat.) A man wearing that overcoat has been seen under 
 very suspicious circumstances at various places, for several weeks 
 back. Isn't that your coat.? 
 
 Borrozv I borrowed that from the gentleman on the third floor, 
 
 Mrs. JV. From the queer gentleman ! 
 
 Spotem. Did you borrow everyihing you have.-* 
 
 Mr. B. Pretty much all. 
 
 Spotetn. And where is the queer gentleman.? 
 
 Mrs. W. Left uncommon sudden a week ago! But he paid 
 up like a gentletnan. 
 
 Spotetn. Botheration! Vexation! Crematio^i! He's given me 
 the slip again and my great case is ruined. {Tears leaf from his 
 note book and stamps it.) 
 
 Doctor. Give me your hand. You have my sympathies. 
 
 Spotem. {Moodily.) What is sympathy to a man whose repu- 
 tation is ruined.? 
 
 Doctor. My professional reputation has received a very disa- 
 greeable blow, but I'll see what a fee will do towards healing it. 
 Mr. Borrow, my bill is just fifty dollars, terms cash. 
 
 Mr. B. It strikes me that is a large fee for a man who can't 
 tell the effects of mustard from those of Asiatic cholera. 
 
 Doctor. {Excitedly.) What! do you mean to insult me.? I 
 won't stand it! I'll have satisfaction. But I see you are a trifler! 
 To get rid of this disagreeable business I'll make it twenty five. 
 
 Borroiv. Too much! 
 
 Doctor. Fifteen then ! 
 
 Borrozv. That 's more reasonable. Mr. Spotem, will you oblige 
 me with a small loan until to-morrow.? I've remittances coming. 
 
 Spotem. Good heavens! Doctor, come. {Seizes Dr. by the 
 arm.) This fellow would swamp our reputation with mortgages 
 and then borrow money from us to lift them. {Drags Dr. out L.) 
 
 Air. B. This is quite an episode, my dear. 
 
 Mrs. B. Oh, I'm so nervous! I was frightened nearly to death! 
 Mr. Bon-ow, has it aftected your stomach .? 
 
 Mr. B. I believe not dear. I am spared for higher purposes. 
 
 Sophy. It 's perfectly horrid. I shall not recover for a week. 
 {Languishes.) 
 
 Mrs. M. Law sakes, Mr. Borrow! you are the luckiest man 
 alive. The Lord favors the righteous. But I must go home. 
 This '11 be just the best kind of news for Ephraim. {Exit L.) 
 CURTAIN, 
 
T. S. DENISON'S CATALOGUE OF 
 NEW PLAYS, 
 
 FOR SCHOOLS and AMATEURS. 
 1879. 
 
 PRICE 15 CENTS EACH, POSTAGE PAID. 
 
 These plays have been prepared expressly to meet the wants of teachers 
 and amateur clubs. They are simple in construction, and require no scenery, 
 or onlv such as is usually at hand. They afford opportunity for ''acting." They 
 are pure in tone and language. The six first on the list were before the public 
 last year, (published at DeKalb, 111.) and met with a most favorable reception. 
 
 "If the succeedini? numbers are as g-ood as the first, we predict for them 
 a larg-e demand."— A'(//;r7;/rt/ Teacher.^:'' Monthly, N. T. and Chicago. 
 
 "These plays appear to be full of fun and to teach many g-ood lessons with- 
 al."— Wis. Jour, of Education. 
 
 "The farces are full of fun."— Z)rt//r Inter-Ocean, Chicago. 
 
 "These plavs are supplyins^ the dearth of ^ood literature in this depart- 
 ment."— vV. T.. 'School Bulletin. 
 
 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 A drama in five acts ; 7 male and 4 female characters. Time, i hour 50 min 
 
 Contains a ^ood humorous negro character. ,.,,-, 
 
 " It took splendidly. 'Tabbs' made it spicv."— C. E. Rogers, Dunkirk, Ind. 
 
 SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 A drama in four acts; 7 male and 3 female characters. Time, i hour 15 m. 
 
 " 'Seth GreenbacK ' has one verv g-ood Irish comic character, and some 
 pathetic and telling situations. The plot is simple and dramatic, and culmin- 
 ate'^ well." — loiua Normal Monthly. 
 
 WANTED, A CORRESPONDENT. 
 
 A farce in two acts; 4 male and 4 female characters. Time, 45 m. Very 
 interesting- and amusing. ^ 
 
 INITIATING A GRANGER. 
 
 A ludicrous farce; S male characters. Time, 25 m. 
 
 " 'Initiating- a Granger' brought down the house." — 7. L. Sfiarp, Burlington 
 
 '"" THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 A temperance drama in five acts; 12 male and 4. female characters. Time, 
 I hour 45 m. A thrilling play, worthy the best efforts of amateurs. Pathetic song- 
 and death scene. „., . ., ,rr 7 • . 7-. ^ 
 
 " It is just the thing for dramatic clubs."-^7^/z<' Anvil, Washington, D. C. 
 
 A FAMILY STRIKE 
 
 A spicy iarce, illustrating "strikes" ; 3 male and 3 female characters. Time, 
 .„ „i„>,tes. .^^^ ^j, PAUPER. 
 
 A drama in five acts; 9 male and 4 female characters. Time, i hour 45 mm. 
 Contains a 2-ood Yankee character and a humorous darky, chara^:ter. This is 
 an intensely interesting and pathetic play. - j;!; admits of striking scenic effects, 
 and is a .fi!ro«^ play ior itmateurs. . . ."■... , ,, • , » ^ ttt 
 
 Act I. I>ouva's tvrants. Act 11. Freedom promised and denied. Act 111. 
 The trial. Act IV. Flight. Act V. Pursuit; Death in the mountains; Ret- 
 
 TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. 
 
 A humorous farce based on boarding-school life; 7 female characters. Time 
 2:; m. Abounds in ludicrous episodes. 
 
HANS VON SMASH. 
 
 A roaring- farce in a prolog-ue and 
 Time, 30 min. Contains 
 
 prolog-ue and one act; 3 male and 4 female characters. 
 ; an excellent humorous Dutch character. 
 
 BORROWING TROUBLE. 
 
 A ludicrous farce; 3 male and 4 female characters. Time, 30 
 the very amusing- trials of a borrowinij family. Surprising dene 
 
 TTT"R PTTTT.."R A riTT 
 
 THE ASSESSOR. 
 
 A humorous sketch, illustrating the difficulties of an assessor in listing the 
 property of a tax-fighter; 3 male and 2 female characters. Time, 15 m. Full 
 of very unexpected developments. 
 
 BORROWING TROUBLE. 
 
 s. Time, 30 m. Illustrates 
 rprising denouement. 
 
 THE PULL-BACK. 
 
 A laughable f\irce; 6 female characters. Time, 20 min. Contams an ex- 
 cellent old-fashioned, "old lad}' " character. Pictures her adventures among 
 the devotees of fashion. 
 
 COUNTRY JUSTICE. 
 
 A very amusing country law suit; S male characters. (May admit i-^.) Time 
 15 minutes. 
 
 ON THE BRINK, 
 Or, The Reclaimed Husband. 
 
 A temperance drama in two acts; 12 male and 3 female characters. Time, 
 1 hour, 45 m. Seven of the characters have unimportant parts, and some of the 
 p:irts are so arranged that the same person may play two parts. Contains 
 three humorous Yankee characters. A fine plav for amateurs. 
 
 A PARLOR ENTERTAINMENT. 
 
 A Sketch ; 2 male and 5 female characters. Time, 25 m. A first rate piece 
 for ^-ounger bovs and girls in school exhibitions. 
 
 OUR COUNTRY. 
 
 A patriotic drama in three parts. Requires 9 male, 3 female characters. 
 (Admits 9 male, 15 female.) Four fine tableaus. Time, about i hour. This 
 ]iia\ atfords a good review of the outline of the Colonial and Revolutionary 
 iiistorv of the U. S. It is faithful to the real historv. 
 
 A BAD JOB. 
 
 A highly ludicrous farce; 3 male, 2 female characters. Time, 30 minutes. 
 
 What Have we to do with Plymouth Rock.p 
 
 A colloquy adapted to the use of Illinois schools, and of general interest to 
 New England emigrants in the central Western States. May be used by from 
 ten to twenty pupils. Time 40 min. Interesting and instructive in the history 
 of Illinois. 
 
 How to Re7nit. — Postal money orders are safest and best. Do not send 
 postage stamps for sums over i5cts". unless unavoidable. Sums under 50 cents in 
 silver maybe sent in a letter, if carefully pasted between two thin slips of card- 
 board. The sending of silver usually involves additional postage, which the 
 sender must pay. 
 
 Registered' Letters are absolutely safe. 
 
 No plays ivill be sent gratis for examination, and no plays exchanged, or 
 sent on approval. 
 
 Any published play furnished. 
 
 No orders filled uiiless accompanied by a remittance. 
 
 It is best, especially in the longer plays, that each actor should have a book, 
 so that all may be familiar %vith the entire play, and be able to give one another 
 the clue in case of hesitation. When all have books the play may be much 
 better learned, and a play luell learned ca.n scarcely fail to be presented well. 
 
 These plays are not intended for children under 10 to 12 years of age. 
 
 Parties desiring further information, please address us, 
 
 T. S. DENISON, 
 
 79 Metropolitan Block, 
 
 CHICAGO, ILL