Author . 
 
 Title. 
 
 Book.JjG-SjlS'. 
 
 Class J 
 
 Imprint . 
 
I 
 
 WITH THE STAGE BUSINEd, CAST OF CHAh- 
 
 ACTKRfl, COSTUMES. RELATIVE POSITIONS 
 
 ETC. 
 
 ?;an 
 
 NEW YOBKl 
 
 l^ I French & So* 
 
 T-T:ll^r^^EB& 
 
 LOUDOS 
 
 Samuel Frenen, 
 
 ITELlsHtR, 
 
 S8 S11eiA.TS. .<Jt 
 
 BOOKS IlVERY AMATECTR SHOULD liAVE, 
 iSATF.rifS fifinK: or. H^.t. (1-t ..p H,.m. ■r'"»;''«l'^"Wfc'i°!'"'priMS5rt»*' 
 
 4^..,fl.>./'01'!^|•JC0Wl■ icnt (.1/ maiJon receiotot vrux. 
 
•iS2 Old aad TouLg 
 
 ' 4iChar)e»lbe i^^ 
 i6 The Brid** 
 *« The FolUe» of a Night 
 iTIroDClieit IFalrLftflT 
 M F«iut Uaart N«t« — 
 
 VO(- VII. 
 *0 RoftOI to UuIq 
 
 61 Temp«r 
 6-J KrftdQfl 
 I U Bertram 
 &4 Tbe Du«pnft 
 66 Uuob Adn^Wot N 
 MTbeCritia 
 
 VOL, V 
 Vt The ApMUts 
 WTwelfOiNlghl 
 (SBrulus 
 40 Slmp«ao & Co 
 «l Hei-ih»i>lof V«r-lo* 
 «■; Old Hefc'lB A Young H VI 
 
 1^^ Uitls Treasure 
 1^0 Dombey and Sou 
 127 Parents aud UuardJan 
 
 iO*> Af mode us 
 303 VormoDs 
 206 Blaocbe of BraDdywloe 3 
 
 I 
 
 III. 
 
 ISl Weulock «f Wenlook 
 1*"- Rose of Kttrloltvale 
 ""> Darid Goppertleld 
 1 AUoe, or th« Roio of 
 ' Pauline tKiUarDflT 3 
 
 • Jaoe Krre 
 
 VOL. XVIT!. 
 
 VOL. XXVIII. 
 317 Incouftaot 
 218 Uncla Tom's Cabia 
 -219 Guide to the Stage 
 
 388 Time Trlei All 
 
 VDL. XXXVII, 
 289 Ella KnacDburg 
 190 Warlock of tbe Olfltf • 
 
 291 ZClhlft tn.i 
 
 ■J92 Beatnoe 
 
 293 Neighbor Jackwooa 
 
 ■29i Wonder 
 
 29i Robert Kramet 
 
 396 OrewD Bu^hM 
 VOL. XXXVIII. 
 
 397 Flowem of the Fore-» 
 
 «5Loi 
 I 86 Aa Too Ukt It 
 
 Rider ArvtbcM- 
 
 ' 1*3 Rrueot .Mallravtrs 
 ^1" Bold Dragooni 
 
 VOL. SIX. 
 'Ho Dred, or the Dismal 
 
 H8 Last Da.vB of Pom|[.l 
 
 ■22i Dark H< 
 nS Mldsum 
 
 of New Jersey 
 r before Dawn 
 Night's Dream 
 
 t Bine UevlU 
 
 VOL. I. 
 7SH«r7 Tin 
 
 ' i and SlngU 
 
 I 335 Poor Toons Man 
 TiQ Ossawatlomle Rrow 
 28T Pope of Romo 
 nt Oliver Twist 
 ■-'■J9 Pauvrette 
 23« Man iu the Iron U a- 
 331 Knigatof ^rva 
 
 irylV 
 
 1155 Freuoh Spy 
 
 (I^ Wept of Wish-ton Wish 
 
 136 ETlIGeaiui 
 1.166 Ben Bolt 
 1167 Sailor of Fraace 
 |l&3 Red Uaak 
 
 159 Life ef an Aotresi 
 « Sm B'«ops to Ctoquer ll**) Wedding Day < 
 
 74U*i 
 
 75Hei 
 T«Ps 
 
 77 Quj Mannering 
 iS Swesibeans «.i.d Wl7M 
 > Fwnlly 
 
 233 Black Eved Susan 
 
 234 Saun Id Paris 
 'jSS Rosiua Meadows 
 
 302 Naiad Qut. 
 SOS Caprice 
 
 504 Cradle of Liberty 
 
 VOL. XXXIX. 
 
 305 The Lost Ship 
 
 306 Country Souire 
 
 307 Fraud and lu Victims 
 
 505 Putnam 
 
 309 KlDg «nd Deserter 
 
 310 La Fiammlna 
 
 311 A Hard Stnigglo 
 |313 Owtnnette Vaughaa 
 j VOL. XL. 
 1313 The LoTc Knot jjudye 
 
 Q<1 the UcTll 318 Evelecn Wilson 
 
 (C'ataloffue ctmtinued on third %mge of corer.) 
 
THE MINOR 
 
 PRESENTED BY 
 
 JUICE and KKS. 1S4AC R. IHTT, jj 
 
 WASHINGTON, D. C. l| 
 
 D R A-WI^8fP ^ 
 
 HIS LAST LEGS, 
 
 a £axce 
 
 IN TWO ACTS 
 
 BY WILLIAM BAYLE BERNARD, 
 
 « ITH THE STAGE BUSINES, CAST OF CHAR. 
 
 iCTERS, COSTUMES, RELATIVE POSITIONS 
 
 ETC. 
 
 NEW 7 R K : 
 
 SAMUEL FRENCH. 
 
 122 Nassau Siubpt, (Ui GiAirs.) 
 
I JIOIS 
 
 CAST OF CHARACTERS. 
 
 CyCaUagka* 
 
 Cka'le, . 
 
 Rivers 
 
 Dr. Bonis 
 
 John - 
 
 Mrs. Montague 
 
 Julia ' 
 
 Mrs. Bank) 
 
 Haymarket, 1839. 
 
 • Mr. I'ovver. 
 
 ■ " Walter Lacy. 
 ' *' Strickland. 
 
 • " Gough 
 
 ■ Mrs. W. Clifford. 
 MissTravers. 
 Mrs. Gallot. 
 
 Park, I8IT. 
 Mr. Collins. 
 
 " A. Aiidrem 
 
 " Fisher. 
 
 " Andrews. 
 
 " Gallot. 
 Mrs. Dyott. 
 Mis8 Kate Horn. 
 Mrs. Burrows. 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 
 O'CALLAGHAN.-Black coat, buttoned np, black pantaloons Urn 
 
 sian boots, shabby hat, liuen mantle, and thick stick. 
 CHARLES.— Green frock, light drab trousers, white waistcoat. &o. 
 RIVERS.— Nankeen coat, breeches, and gsiters. 
 DR. BANKS —A suit of black. 
 .JOHN.— Livery. 
 
 MRS. MONTAGUE.-A lilac silk gown, cap, &o. 
 JULIA. — White muslin frock. 
 MRS. BANKS.— Brown silk dress. 
 
 EXITS AND ENTRANCES. 
 R. means jei^A«; L. Left: R. D. Right Door; L. D. Lefl Doo, 
 B. li. ^(■<■on<i Entrance; U. E. Upper Entrance; M. D. Middle Doo 
 
 RELATIVE POSITIONS. 
 
 Dec. i: 
 
 *36 
 
 ?.Hftt 
 
EDITORIAL INTRODUCTION. 
 
 The farce of " Ris Last Legs," like most other of Mr. 15er 
 ■trd's dramatic productions, is destined for a long career of jiub- 
 lie favour. The part of O'CaHa^Aan was written for the lat« 
 Tyrone Power, and by him of course admirably personified ; 
 as recently enacted in New York by Mr. Collins, the perform- 
 ance left us nothing to desire. It was peculiarly suited to tliat 
 gentleman's powers. In some characters Power was unapproach- 
 able , but if we could divest ourselves of the prejudice which we 
 have obtained in favour of that lamented actor, we should per- 
 haps be compelled to acknowledge, that in O'Callaghan Mr 
 Collins is little, if any, hi$ inferior. He was evidently quite ut 
 home in the part, and looked and acted it as though he were the 
 very hero himself. The character of O'Callaghan is well drawn 
 (allowing of course for the usual exaggeration in afterpieces) • 
 the situations quite embarrassing enough for any but an Irishman 
 to parry ofTor blunder through ; and the dialogue is full of very 
 neat play upon phrases and words. The piece has also tho 
 great merit, that whilst the hero is continually before the audi- 
 ence, the subordinate characters are enabled to stand forth with 
 a due degree of vitality, and elicit the powers of respectable ar- 
 tistes. 
 
 This piece was first produced at the Haymarket Theatre, on 
 the 15th of October, 1839, the cast of which we give on the next 
 page. It was highly successful, as may well be imagined, and 
 has ever since continued to be a favourite, both with the public 
 «nd the delineators of Irish characters. It was first perfonned 
 in this country at Mitchell's Olj'mpic, on the Cth of April, 184t> 
 Mr. S. Johnson being the O' Callaghan. — It generally occupiei 
 one hour and twenty minntes in the representation. 
 
HIS LAST LEGS 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 80ENG I. — A Street in a country town. An Academy stand* 
 R. 8. E., tcitk sign near door, " Birch's Classical Acade- 
 my." — A Milliner's Shop stands l. a. e. 
 
 Enter Charles Ritf.rs, with Mrs. Montaove and Miss 
 Banks, r. 
 
 Cha. Well, aunt, here is your milliner's; s.x\<i there, I 
 Bee her peeping^ through her window, in hopes of a call. 
 
 Mrs. M. Well, then, will you join me in ray visit 1 
 
 Cha. Why, really, as I am not the slightest judge of 
 bonnets — 
 
 Mrs. ]\I. [.iside,] You think that an excuse to get a 
 tfite-a-tote with Julia. — Very well : you know I'm not ill- 
 natured ; so, Julia dear, you can take a turn with Mr, Ri- 
 vers whilst I step in. I won't be long. \Exit into milliner's. 
 
 Cha. And this, Julia, is our last walk together, because 
 my father has set his heart on ray getting a degree. I must 
 return to college this very night. Willy, willy, I must 
 part with you, and go back to Greek and Latin— 
 
 Jul. To make 7ne happy, as well as him. 
 
 Cha. You happy ] 
 
 ,Tul. Who, living under his roof, and treated with every 
 kindness, cannot abuse his confidence by — 
 
 Cha. And is there any need you should \ Have I nc< 
 ■aid I'd tell him evei-y thing ] 
 
 Jul. Still, you must remember there's another to consult 
 
 Cha. Your mother, whom you expect from town to- 
 morrow. 
 
 Jul But only to remain a few days, as we then set out 
 for France. 
 
6 HIS LAST LEGS. [Act I. 
 
 Cha For France 1 
 
 Jul. When our stay fiom England will be quite uncex 
 tain. 
 
 Cha. But what's the cause of this? 
 
 Jul. It relates to my poor fatner. 
 
 Cha. Indeed ! 
 
 Jul. You are aware, that, owing to an unfounded jea- 
 lousy, he separated from my mother ten years since, and 
 went abroad. 
 
 C.Jia. I have heard so. 
 
 Jul. We have lately been informed that hia health is de- 
 clining; and, of course, as we are anxious to be reconciled, 
 my mother is resolved to go in search of him, when, if we 
 should be so fortunate as to accomplish our desire — 
 
 Clia. You'll sit down by his side, and marry, perhaps, 
 some one of his choosing. 
 
 Jul. Of course he'd claim a voice in my disposal. 
 
 Clia. Whilst mine would be forgotten — I see it all. If 
 you leave me now, we part for ever ! My mind's resolved 
 — I'll not leave home to-night. 
 
 Jul. No! 
 
 Cha. No. I'll not stir till I have seen your mother, and 
 obtPined from her a pledge that my happiness shall be 
 considered. 
 
 Jul. But how is that possible, when your ftither is so im- 
 perative 7 
 
 Cha. Why, if force wont do, I'll try a little stratagem. 
 
 Jul. A stratagem ! 
 
 Cha. Yes: I have always one resource. You know 
 ours is an old family, and I'm an inly son; conseqiiently 
 he's always rather scared if anything's the matter with me. 
 Now I'll tell yiiu what I'll do — I'll have ajit of illness. 
 
 Jul. A fit of illness ! 
 
 Cha. Yes, right off. I used t ) be trouble'I with a swim- 
 ming in the head — I '11 iiave an attack as we go home ; 
 then I shall bo carried up to bed, a physician wil be sent 
 for— 
 
 Jul. And your artifice detected. 
 
 Cha. Not so : our doctor's a deuced good old follow— 
 I'll let him into the secret ; he'll recommend that I don't 
 stir for a week ; and in that time, .Tulia, I may see your 
 ciother, and — 
 
ScesBl.J HIS LAST LEGS. 7 
 
 Jul. I cannot hope it will succeed; and if it slioald lie 
 iliscoverori — 
 
 Cha. Well, then father can't complain. He wants mo 
 to become a Master of Arts, and he'll see I've some profi- 
 ciency already. But Ireie comes my aunt! — now, not a 
 word! 
 
 Re-enter Mrs. Mont.^gue Jrmn tlie Milliner's. 
 
 Mrs. Al. Well, have you been walking ? 
 
 Cha. Yes, we've taken a turn or two, and — 
 
 ]\Iis. M. And what has this pretty youth been saying t j 
 you, Julia? If it's any nonsense, don't believe him — he's 
 an aiTant flirt. 
 
 C/ia. I beg your pardon, aunt — I think flirting a great 
 waste of time. 
 
 Mrt. M. Do you, Mr. Moralist 1 And yet I can recol- 
 lect how you wasted it at Cheltenham. 
 
 Clia. Nearly as much as you did there before me ; do 
 yon think I've never heard how you went on with a Mr. 
 O'Callaghan? 
 
 Mrs. M. Oh, nonsense ! 
 
 Clia. It was no nonsense then, for yon know you'd hav* 
 married him if it hadn't been for giandfather. 
 
 Jill, (k.) Why, I've never heard of this! 
 
 Clia. (c.) Ilavn't you 1 Oh, I'll tell you all about it. 
 
 Mrs. J\I. Really, Charles, I wish you'd hold your tongue. 
 
 Clia. You must know, this Mr. O'Callaghan was the 
 reigning star of Cheltenham — kept his hounds and horses, 
 and, amonijst other proofs of his good taste, fell in love 
 with my aunt. Her fatlier, however, wishing her to have 
 a man in Scotland, whipped her away, and soon after, her 
 gay Irish swain having spent all his fortune — 
 
 I\lrs. M. Went over to France, and soon after ^(W tliero 
 Now you've heard the whole stor)'. [A coacli-liorn is lieara 
 outside, R.] Eh ! — why, that's the London coach. Come, 
 Come, Charles, they'll be waiting dinner ; you know you 
 start fur Cambridcjo at eight. 
 
 Clin. \A.ii<lr.\ Do I, aunt ! — don't be so sure of that 
 Not a bad hint, though ; my disorder ought to be commen- 
 cing. I'll give her a few symptoms. 
 
 Sirs. M. Now, don't delay; you know how your father 
 diitlikes to be kept waitincf. Eh ! why, what's the matter ' 
 
8 HIS LAST LEGS. [Act 1 
 
 Cka. \Shaking his head.] Why, really I don't know, but 
 I've a very odd feeling in my head — a sort of swimming ! 
 
 J\Irs. ]\1. Good heavens, I hope not. 
 
 C/ia. Yes, everything is turning round. It really seems, 
 now, as if the pump there was having a waltz with the 
 workhouse. 
 
 Mrs. JM. Will you g3 in somewhere and sit down ? 
 
 C/ia. No, I'd rather go home — that is, if I am able. 
 
 J\Irs. M. Then walk slowly, and lean on me, Charles. 
 
 C/ia. Thank you, aunt — thank you. I dare say I shall 
 
 be better by and bye. I have no doubt that by eight 
 
 o'clock I shall be quite restoi'ed ; [Aside.] don't you, Julia 1 
 
 [Exeunt, L., Charles leaning on Mrs. M., and looking 
 
 tenderly at Miss B. 
 
 Enter Dr. Banks, k. 
 
 Dr. B. Yes, I can't be mistaken, though 'tis t»»i years 
 since we parted — it must bo she — my own swp'-t child ! 
 Now, how to fulfil my object — to separate her from her 
 mother, and take her back with me to Franco ' I can't 
 use force — my hope rests solely on persuasioa. Luckily, 
 I find that she's alone here on a visit; my plan, then, is to 
 see her privately, and throw myself on her afle-.tion ; but 
 how can this be done ? T want some friend to help me — 
 some one who will take a letter to her, and pro<"ure an in 
 terview. [O' CaUagken heard without. 
 
 O'Cal. Oh, that's the house, is it ? — thank ye.'oir. 
 
 Dr. B. Eh! who's this coming? — my Irish filluw-pas 
 scnger. 
 
 O'Callaoiian enters, r., in a shahhy genteel suit, duriy fi^'.n 
 travelling. 
 
 O'Cal. So, then, my journey's at an end, and herd's ir\»f 
 destination — " Birch's Classical Academy." 
 
 Dr. B. Good day again, sir. 
 
 O'Cal. Ah, sir, your servant. Do you proceed wi*h \\^ 
 oach, or — 
 
 Dr. B. No, sir, I think of staying here a day or tvTO. 
 
 O'Cal. You do? Well, that's odd enough. Do yo>> 
 know, sir, that's my case ; I like to go somewhere for tl'<» 
 Bummer, and as London just now happens to bo too hot fc 
 Ijold me — 
 
(cere I.] 
 
 HIS LAST LEOS. 9 
 
 Dr. B. You've friends here, I presume. 
 
 O^CaL Yes, sir, a liberal one. \Looking at tlic Aca(ieTTXij\ 
 A gentleman who opens his doors to all classes. 
 
 Dr. B. Indeed ! — one of the Old School 1 
 
 O'Cal. Yes, sir, a very old school. [^4i/(fr.] EstabiisheJ 
 a centur)' ! 
 
 Dr. B. Do you know, sir, I think I've had the pleasure 
 of seeing you before. Your name, I believe, is — 
 
 O'Cal. 6'Callaghen, sir— Felix O'Callaghan, of Kilmotiy 
 Abbey — [o.?/f/e] — some years ago. 
 
 Dr. B. O'Callagha'i ! Any connection with the army I 
 
 O'Cal. No, sir, though I've had some knowledge of the 
 Fleet. 
 
 Dr. B. [Aside.] 1 wonder if this person would assist 
 me ; he's evidently poor, and I think good tempered. 
 
 O'Cal. \ Aside] There's a cut about my friend here thai 
 puzzles me. He's too well dressed for a thief, and too me- 
 lancholy for a bailiff. 
 
 Dr. B. Perhaps, sir, if you're not engaged, you'll dine 
 with me to-day 1 
 
 O'Cal. Really, sir, I thank you, but the fact is, I am en- 
 gaged. I came here on a trifling business, and — 
 
 Dr. B. The task you've undertaken is — 
 
 O'Ciil. Not to undertake tasks, but to set them. 
 
 Dr. B. To set them 1 
 
 O'Cal. Yes, sir. I dare say, now, you wouldn't guess 
 my profession 1 
 
 Dr. B. I confess, sir, 1 am at a loss. 
 
 O'Cal. Of course, sir, you're aware of the great inteiest 
 just now on the subject of education f 
 
 Dr. B. Yes, sir. 
 
 O'Cal. Well, sir, you must know, then, that, partaking 
 in the philanthropic spirit of the times, I have resolved to 
 devote myself to the welfare of youth. I have come here, 
 »ir, to tache reading and writing, and a correct accent io 
 English, to the rising generation, in this temple of Mi- 
 nerva. 
 
 Dr. B. Why, I never should have thought it. 
 
 O'Cal. I dare say not, sir. I've no doubt I look as if 1 
 had more to do with the sinkiii': j^eneration than ihe rising. 
 
 Dr. B. Why, reallv, sir, if 1 iiiny be allowed to say, 
 
lO HIS LAST LEGS. 
 
 [&.CTI 
 
 O'Cal. Of course — of course. The fact is, sir, you see 
 before you one of the unluckiest devils going. Talk oi 
 being born under an evil star ! — I think mine was a fiied 
 one. For the last dozen years, sir, I've been the football 
 of Fortune, and not a gutter could she find that 1 haven't 
 been kicked into. 
 
 Dr. B. Then I presume, sir, you were once well off. 
 
 O'CuI. Well ofl', sir? I had one of the best estates in 
 Ireland — I had as fine a set of tradesmen as a man could 
 be born to — I had a tailor, and a stable-keeper, and butch- 
 er, and baker, that hadn't been paid since the death of 
 my grandfather ! It was utterly impossible to be in asier 
 circumstances ; but to show you the doom, sir, that from 
 my boyhood hung over me, one of them chose to die, 
 and another to hang himself, till at last, sir, they left me 
 in a state of destitution. Yes, sir, they had the cruelty 
 to lave me to get my own living, after leading me to think 
 that they'd keep me all my days, and even buri/ me after- 
 wards. 
 
 Dr. B. That was unfortunate. 
 
 O'Cal. It was, sir. After that I was reduced to the dis- 
 grace of living on my wits, and, by my honour, I found 
 them a worse stock than South American shares. Would 
 you believe it, sir, that I've tried a hundred schemes for a 
 living, and not one of 'em's answered. I've failed, sir, 
 E.s often as the most flourishing tradesman ! Call For 
 tune inconstant ! — by my honour, sir, she's been as constant 
 to me as a thunder-storm in tue tropics. T'l give you a 
 proof, sir. I wrote a book upon charity, which lodged me 
 in prison. I invented a steam-engine, which scalded all 
 my shareholders. And I opened a ball-room at a water- 
 ing-place in the year it had the cholera ! At last, sir, find- 
 ing that, like corn in a sack, with every shake I got lower, 
 I resolved to give up the stiiiggle, and bury myself in some 
 calm country nook ; when, happening to see an advertiso- 
 inent fror* a school in this village — 
 
 Dr. B. You're now become its teacher. 
 
 O'i^al. Yes, sir. This is the age of revolutions, and 
 you now see mine — a fellow who once set examples to 
 dandles, destined henceforward to set copies to boys ! 
 
 Dr. B. [.isiJe.] This is tie very person for my purpose. 
 VS ell, sir, I sympntliisc in yiur reverses, and shall be hap- 
 
Hers. 1.1 H!S LAST LEGS. 
 
 11 
 
 py, when \.)u re settled, if you'll oblige me with a calL 1 
 uliall be 8tayii)g at the inn. 
 
 O'Cu/. .Sir, 1 shall be mo=t happy. 
 
 Dr. B. Tliere's my card, if you should ever go to Paris. 
 \Gircs -t] And perhaps I shall have the pleasure of seeing 
 you this evening, [.-liii/c] The very man for ne ! — ho 
 vrants money, and he has address. 
 
 [Goc; iff, L. O'CallagJian loohs at the card. 
 
 O'Cal. D-. Banks, No. lo, Rue de la Victoire, Taris !" 
 A very civil ohi gentleman ! Well, then, now for my new 
 al)ode I I must "put myself to rights, though. My ward- 
 robe's in a very delicate state of health, and a brush wou}d 
 just now be a danijcrous cathartic. I was obliged tc have 
 my coat turned for this journey ; though that I didn't mind 
 — I'm not the first man that's turned his coat to get into of- 
 fice. My trousers I resuscitated with a bottle of " Scott'a 
 lleviver" — that's what I call being reduced to a (h/cr ne- 
 cessity. Come, now, that will do ; and 1 hope they haven't 
 done dinner. My ride from London has given me an ap- 
 petite ; I feel as if I could illustrate a lecture on geology 
 — show the beauty of tlie system of one layer upon ano- 
 ther. [Knorks at door in R. F.] And this is my future home. 
 These hallowed cells — 
 
 " Where ever-musing Meditation dwells !" 
 Welcome, then, thrice welcome to ye, venerable pile ! 
 To your calm sliades, like the Roman of old, do I retreat 
 from contention. Like another Cincinnatus, I turn my 
 back on the capital, and say, " Fortune, thou Janus, 1 defy 
 thee for the future !" [^Servant opens the door. He goes in 
 
 John runs in l. 
 
 John. Here's a pretty business! — my young master taken 
 ill, and no doctor to be found. I've been to our surgeon, 
 and he's been called away to Cambridge ; what's to ba 
 done! — there's only an apothecary besides in the village 
 Well, I must run to him — I can't return without assis 
 tance. Dear, dear ! was ever anything so cruel ! 
 
 J Huns off, I,. 
 
 0'C\\.\.\an\.\ comes J'rom Academtj, followed hi, Tiipmas 
 
 O'C'i'. I tell you, sir, you're wrong — it can't bo. 
 
12 HIS LAST LEGS. 
 
 [Act I 
 
 77/1?. liuleeJ, it's true sir — our new usher amvcd ycster- 
 day. 
 
 O'Cal. But I tell you, sir, I'm the man ! — I answered 
 f.he atlvfiitisement, and accepted the terms. 
 
 T/w. Yes, sir, but I think I heard my master say you 
 didn't reply by the time ho mentioned ; so, as the schooj 
 opened to-day, and he couldn't wait — 
 
 O'Cal. Then you mean to tell me, that after coming 
 down here, fifty miles from London, I f.ud another man in 
 ray shoes 1 
 
 Tlio. I'm sure I'm very sorry, sir. 
 
 O'Cal. Sorry, sir ! 
 
 TIw. It's all owing to a mistake, sir. 
 
 O'Cal. Mistake! — it's an insult ; and if your master was 
 a gentleman — How will he dare show his face to me al 
 dinner 1 
 
 T/io. At dinner, sir 1 
 
 O'Cal, Yes, sir; how will he have the face even to ask 
 me to sleep here 1 
 
 Tho. To sleep here, sir? 
 
 O'Cal. Yes, sir, of course he's got a bed for mc. 
 
 Tho. Indeed he hasn't, sir; we haven't room to ciam a 
 satchell in. 
 
 O' Cah Tlien where am 1 to go 1 
 
 Tho. You'll get a good bed at the Inn, sir. 
 
 O'Cal. The inn, sir ! Divil burn it, do you take me for 
 Croesus, sir ? — who's to pay the inn, sir ] I insist on stay- 
 ing here. Where is your master ? 
 
 Thu. I said he was from home, sir. 
 
 O'Cal. Not at home ! 
 
 Tho. No, sir. 
 
 O'Cal. And where's he gone to ? 
 
 Tho. He's gone to York, sir^ and won't be back till 
 Christmas. [Goes in ami shuts door in fiat, r. 
 
 O'Cal. The unnatural old villain ! — to turn me ofl" In 
 this way upon the dirtiest quibble, and even lefuse rre a 
 mouthful of dinner ! I'll go bail, now, that that feWovt 
 would skin a Hint for a living, and make soup of the shav- 
 ings. ]3y my soul, if I could find him, I'd set his boys a 
 copy ! — I'd rule his back with my stick from die neck to 
 the crupper, and write rogue in round-text between every 
 lino of it So, then, after all my hopes and trouble, i'i\ 
 
kcEREl] HIS LAST LE iS. 13 
 
 failed again I I thoiiglit I'd come to the worst, wlien 1 
 iionsented to turn njckass among this fellow's cliickeiw 
 but n(>, Felix, my friend — even this was too good fir you ! 
 What the devil's to be done \^ Here am I, in a strange 
 place, at the close of day, with only one and ninepence in 
 my pocket — one shilling and one ninepence — the sole sur- 
 vivors of the last respected sovereign that reigned in my 
 dominions ! 
 
 Re-enter John, hastily, L, 
 
 John. What will be done ! — the apothecary's ill in bod 
 with rheumatism ; he can't be moved upon a litter. 
 
 [ Crosses, R. 
 
 O'Cal. Only this ? — why, it wouldn't pay for the loan 
 of a toothpick ! 
 
 John. If he doesn't get assistance he'll be dead before 
 the morning. 
 
 O'Cal. What can be bought with one shilling and one 
 njnepencc ! 
 
 John. Master, I know, would give a hundred pounds. 
 
 O'Cal. ^Turning.] A hundred pounds ! — for what ! 
 
 John. A doctor, sir; young Mr. Rivers has been taken 
 ill. Our physician is from home, and — Eh ! who's that 
 going into his house 1 — perhaps he's come back ; I'll run 
 and see. ^Runs off, v.. 
 
 O^Cal. A hundred pounds! — is there so much money 
 in the world f — and for a doctor ! a fellow whose business 
 is' to play chequers with the nation. The game with his 
 fraternity is, who'll move off the most. By my honour, I 
 think, if there's one delusion going that's greater than ano- 
 ther, it's what they call doctoring, which 1 take to be the 
 art of amusing a patient while Nature performs the cure. 
 A hundred pounds fir one, and no one to be found ! 1 
 wonder if / could be of any use here ! — I know some- 
 thing of horse-doctoring, if that would do ; and I always 
 rnny about me a case of surgical inst-uments — a jack 
 knife with seven blades. \'rakcs it out.] Let me reflect. 
 I've tried a hundred schemes, for which I was well quali- 
 ficv^, and every one has failed ! — who knows, now, if I wert> 
 to try one of which / know nothing, but what I should sue- 
 
14 HIS LAST LEGS. AcT I. 
 
 Re-enter John, r. 
 
 John, (b.) No, it was not liim ! — he'll not be back till 
 mulniglit. 
 
 O'Cal. [Aside, I,.) For a feel of liis pulse, and a shake 
 uf my head, I might get a fee that would take me back 
 to London. 
 
 Jo/in. My poor young master ! — then there's no hope 
 for him ! 
 
 O'Cal. Young man, I'm a stranger here ; but if I can 
 be of any service — 
 
 John. What, sir! are you a doctor ? 
 
 O'Cal. Why, I 2"'ofess medicine. [.IjiVZc] And that's 
 true enough, as I know nothing about it. 
 
 Jo/in. And will you como with me, sir? 
 
 O'Cal. Of course I will. I'll see your master; but re- 
 raem'oer — I don't say I can do him any good. 
 
 Jolin. But you'll try, sir? 
 
 O'Cal. To be sure I will — I'll try. 
 
 John. Well, sir, no one can do more. 
 
 O'Cal. Of course not ; and in my case, [ai!(??] no one 
 can do less. Well, then, you may run on and announce 
 me. Stop — \He pauses — John runs off at hack and turns.\ 
 What urges me to undertake this step ? — what, but the 
 source of all great undertakings — hunger ! Arts, books, 
 and revolutions — all have owed their origin, not to the 
 heart or brain, but to the stomach ! — ergo, I have the war- 
 rant of all the sages of antiquity ! 
 
 John. Now, sir — don't stay, for heaven's sake ! My 
 master may be half dead. 
 
 O'Cal. [.4s/</e.) And if he isn't, lam. So, go along, 
 young man ; I'm sure of one thirg — if I don't cure his 
 complaint, I shall mine. [Follows John off, l. 
 
 Scene li. — A Chamber at Mr. Rivers' s. — Mrs. Monta- 
 gue, R., and Charles recliinng on a sofa, c, disMvered 
 — A table with writing tnaterials, l. 
 
 Enter Rivers, l. 
 
 Riv. Kow is he now, Lyddy ? 
 
 Mrs. M. Why, nut in so much pain, I think but still 
 
 very restless. 
 
ECLKE irO H'S LAST lEGS. 15 
 
 Rir. (l.) It's really most surjinsinj» — he was quite well 
 this morning — swallowed a breakfast for a ploughman: 
 half-a-dozen eggs, nearly a pound of ham, and 1 think a 
 quart of cufl'ee. 
 
 Mis. I\I. He first complained as we were about to leave 
 the village, gradually grew worse as we crossed the fields, 
 and when we reached the door — 
 
 [C/tarles groans and liicfcs — iJiey run to Jiim. 
 
 Cha. Oh! 
 
 Riv. Poor boy — what suffering he's in ; that scoundrel 
 of a John to stay so ; and that brute of a doctor ! 
 
 Mrs. M. Charles, are you better now 1 — tell us where 
 your pain is. 
 
 CIta. Why, aunt, just at present there's a gnawing sen- 
 sation here — another there — and now, the spasm comes 
 again — oh ! 
 
 Riv. My poor dear boy ! 
 
 Betty runs in, l. 
 
 Bet. John has come back, sir, but he has brought a 
 stranger with him. 
 
 Riv. A stranger? 
 
 Bet. Yes, sir, a gentleman from London. 
 
 Riv. Why, who can it be ? Lyddy, try to compose 
 Charles a little, whilst I go and see him. [Exit, l. 
 
 Mrs. M. Your head aches still, Charles — here's some 
 more Eau-de-Cologne. Eh ! no, I've emptied the bottle. 
 Hetty, run up to my room, and in the drawer nearest to 
 the window — stay, I'll go for it myself; do you stay and 
 watch him. [Exit, n. 
 
 Bel. I stay and watch him — I had much rather not. I 
 never had courage to turn nurse, or I might have had a 
 charminc: situation in a small-pox hospital. Suppose, now, 
 ne should go out of his mind ? — ho looks very strange. 
 Why, he's getting up — he's going to spring at me — Here! 
 niiirder ! help ! [She runs off, i,. Hr. jumps up laugliing, 
 
 Cha. Ha ! ha ! Victory, victory ! Was ever father 
 and cousin, and faithful maid servant, so finely bam- 
 boozled. Well, my first ])oiiit's gained. I shan't leave 
 h<ime to-night ; the question is, shall I remain over to- 
 morrow ? — that depends upon the doctor, and I think 
 there's no fear of bis consent, when I have once cxplaiv. 
 
16 HIS LAST LEGS. 
 
 [Aci 1 
 
 oci iny secret. Eh ! there's some one coming, I must back 
 to my sofa — I must liave a relapse. 
 
 ( Throics himself on the s'ifa and begins to hick — Rivers 
 reiurns xvilh O'Cam.agiian', l. 
 
 Rui. Here's your patient, sir; and as I stated to you, 
 the attack has been most sudden — he was quite well this 
 morning, and — \0^ CaUaghan ^oes vp to Charles aud feels 
 his pulse.] Rather an odd looking man, and a stranger. I 
 should be cautious — but then, what have looks to do with 
 talents ? If we judged nuts by their shells, who, pray, 
 would crack them % \ 0' Callaghan comes down, r., and looks 
 gravel)/ at Bivers.] Well, sir, what's your opinion ? 
 
 O'Cal. May I ask, sir, if that young gentleman is your 
 only son ! 
 
 liiv. He is, sir. 
 
 O'Cal. 1 regret to hear it. May I ask if be has a mo- 
 ther, sir ] 
 
 Riv. No, sir, she has been dead some years. 
 
 O'Cal. Well, I'm glad to hear i/(o<. 
 
 Riv. Why glad, sir ] 
 
 O'Cal. Why, sir, painful as the task may be, I feel I 
 Lhould be wanting in my duty if 1 did not acquaint you, 
 that — 
 
 Riv. Good heavens ! do you mean to say there's any 
 danger ? 
 
 O'Cal. There's more than danger, sir. 
 
 Riv. Is it possible ! 
 
 O'Cal. That amiable young man, sir, cannot exist six 
 hours. 
 
 Cka. \Liftlng his head.] What's that ? 
 
 Riv. But what's his complaint, sir ] 
 
 O'Cal. Why, sir, I confess that puzzles me. I can't 
 Bay I ever saw it before, but I can explain its origin. It's 
 what we call a febrifuge — that is, you see, the pineal gland 
 having been morbidly excited by the peritoneum ducts, a 
 contractility has ensued of the cellular tissue of the caver- 
 nous membrane ; you understand me ? 
 
 Rin. Perfectly. 
 
 O'Cal. \ Aside.] Then you are a wiser man than T am.— 
 This, yini see, sir, must be fatal unless ir.stantly checked : 
 however, my treatment's very decided, so I shall proceed 
 to bleed him, t^ir, and yuu will oblige me by orderilig up 
 a tub. 
 
bceneIi.j his last legs. 17 
 
 Cha. A tub I 
 
 O'Cal. When I have relieved him of a gallon or two, I 
 fthall shave his heaJ, apply a blister to his back and sto- 
 mach, and then with a draught every hour, and a dozen 
 leoches to his eyelids, I think he may do. 
 
 C'ta. Do ! yes, I shall do, for a coffin. 
 
 Riv. This draught, sir, of course, must be obtained di- 
 rectly. There's paper on the table, will you write for it t 
 
 O'Cal. I will, sir. [Sits at the table and writes, R.J So 
 far, 80 well ; now for ttie prescription. 
 
 Hirers. \Asiile.] His treatment is decided, certainly. 
 Why, he talks of taking blood from a man like beer from 
 a vat. 
 
 O'Cal, [Rising with paper.] There, I think that it is in 
 the usual style. [Reads il.\ " Cal — Sen — Sas — Ihjdrarg 
 — Fd — three snakes' tails and a lot of triangles." To be 
 sure, the apothecary won't be able to read it, but so much 
 the better, then ; for once in his life, he can't do any mis- 
 chief. — There, sir, you'll get that made up as soon as poa- 
 sible. 
 
 Riv. In half an hour, sir — my servant shall go with it on 
 horseback — here, Robin, John ! [Exit, i,. Charles rises. 
 
 Cha. Now, I think it's time to put a stop to this mur 
 der, sir. 
 
 O'Cal What's this! 
 
 Cha. You'll allow me to acquaint you, that — 
 
 O'Cal. Not indisposed ] 
 
 Cha. (r.) Yes, sir, I am indisposed to undergo your 
 treatment. I'll not trouble you to take away a gallon of 
 my blood, nor do I think it would improve my personal 
 appearance to have twenty leeches hanging to my eyelids. 
 
 O'Cal. Then I've been imposed upon. 
 
 Cha. Why, of course, I don't deny I've deceived you, 
 cr.t if you'll allow me to state the cause — 
 
 O'Cal. [Aside.\ Phew! here's a deliverance. 
 
 [ Crosses to R. 
 
 Ckn. I'm sure you'll see the necessity, and — 
 
 O'Cal. Then, in few %Yords, sir, f)r some purpose of 
 your own, you have presumed to trifle with your fiiends, 
 and offer this insult to a member of the faculty 1 
 
 Chci. Insult, sir — I meant no insult, sir. 
 
 O'Cil. But you have done it. sir — you have ch.i9«n to 
 
18 HIS LAST LEGS. 
 
 [Act! 
 
 bring into contempt one of the most respectable profes- 
 sions. 1 have but one reply, — to call in your fatlier, ex- 
 pose your conduct, and — 
 
 did. No, no; for heaven's sake, sir; I'm sure, when 
 you know the reason of my artifice, you will pity and for- 
 give it. It was a last resource to preserve my happiness 
 — to remain near a lovely and devoted girl, who is about 
 to leave the country. 
 
 O'Cal. But what is this to me, sir; you have brought 
 ine here, a perfect stranger, wasted my time, trifled with 
 my feelings — 
 
 Cha. And do you think without a view of recompense 1 
 If twenty guineas will be any compensation — 
 
 O'Cal. Twenty guineas I 
 
 Cha. I offer it with pleasure. 
 
 O'Cal. Well, sir, since you throw yourself upon my 
 huynanittj — 
 
 Cha. E.xactly so. 
 
 O'Cal. Since you confide in my feelings, and have not 
 scrupled to disclose to me your secret — 
 
 Cha. Yes, sir. 
 
 O'Cah I feel I should .^spond to your appeal by ira- 
 Darting to you a secret in reply. 
 
 Cha. Indeed ! 
 
 O'Cal. You've assured me, on your honour, that you're 
 no sick man 1 
 
 Cha. No, sir. 
 
 O'Cal. Allow me, then, in the strictest confidence, to ac- 
 quaint you in return, that I'm no doctor .' 
 
 Cha. What's that ? 
 
 O'Cal. But, on the contrary, a patient like yourself, 
 who has undergone a deal of bad treatment. 
 
 Cha. Then what brought you here, sir? 
 
 O'Cal. Ah! there my object WS3 medical enough — I 
 came for a fee. 
 
 Cha. And you have had the impudence to torture my 
 {eelings and impose upon my respected parent! 
 
 O'Cal Why, on the point of impudence, 1 really don't 
 lluiik wo should be vain on either s.de. 
 
 Cha. I'm thunderstruck ! 
 
 0'('<'L Well, sir, if your keen sense of morality is iv 
 gter''' lutraged, of course, I'll leave the house, and— 
 
KCKHE II.] 
 
 HIS LAhT LEGS 19 
 
 Clia. No, no; I didn't say that; but — ha! ha! upon 
 rcy word, it's very oJd. 
 
 O'Cal. Isn't it ? 
 
 Cha. You're from Ireland, I perceive. 
 
 O' Cal. Ves, sir. 
 
 C/iii. Any business'? 
 
 O'Cal. Why, I have taught the sciences. 
 
 Cl/n. In what branch 1 
 
 O'Cal. Comparative anatomy. I've illustrated for the 
 last six years, how a man, like a cameleon, may live upon 
 air. 
 
 C/ia. Well, I must say you look as if you had been run- 
 nirie; down hill. 
 
 O'CdI. Yes, sir; and as if I had been having my run 
 on the side of the Andes, I've been running down hill for 
 tlie last ten years, and divil take me if I can get to the bot- 
 tom. 
 
 Cha. Well, if it's worth your while to stop here, I don'. 
 3ee why our agreement should be vitiated. 
 
 O' Cal. You don't ! 
 
 Cha. If the twenty guineas will pay you for your delay 
 ve may as well retain our characters, I can continue my 
 ilhiess. and — 
 
 (y Cal. I can cure you, now I know your disease. 
 
 Chd. Then it's a bargain 1 
 
 O'Cal. There's my hand. 
 
 Cha. Agreed ; but I say, you must take care of one 
 thing — our doctor ; he'll be sure to call, and if he should 
 talk to you — 
 
 O'Cal. He'll illustrate the Latin maxim — " E.\ nihilo, 
 nil fit." 
 
 Cha. Well, then, that point's settled. I shall maintain 
 my acquaintance with my dearest Julia — 
 
 O'Cal. And I renew my acquaintance w'th a dinner ta- 
 ble. 
 
 Cha. Ha! ha! — If you'd like to extend your practice, 
 I can liel[) you to a patient. Here's my aunt, Mrs. Mon- 
 t.igiif, is rather poorlv. 
 
 O'Cal. Wlio ! 
 
 Chd. Mrs. Montaniie. 
 
 O' ( «/. " That well-known name awakens all my wv.«tl" 
 May I ask if the lady comes from Yoikshire ? 
 
20 HIS LAST LEGS. [Art k 
 
 Cha. She djee. 
 
 O'Cal. And her maiden name was — 
 
 Cha. Rivers. 
 
 O'Cal. [Aside.\ By all the graces, it's herself! — here 
 would be a meeting. I should be blown directly, lose my 
 twenty pounds, and — 
 
 Rio. [Outside.] Betty, send John up th3 instant he 
 comes in. 
 
 C/ia. Eh ! — here's my father coming. 
 
 O' Cal. Well, then, down with you and pretend to sleep. 
 I must give the old fellow a taste of my ability. 
 
 [Charles returns to the sofa and composes himself. — 
 O' CaUaghan. takes a -hair. 
 
 Enter Riters, l. 
 
 Riv. Well, sir, I've despatched the servant ; and how is 
 he now ? 
 
 O'Cal. Observe! 
 
 Riv. Asleep ! 
 
 O' Cal. Yes, sir, as tranquilly as when he rested on hia 
 mother's bosom. 
 
 Riv. 1 declare, so he is. 
 
 O'Cal. When he wakes, I've no doubt you'll see a greal 
 change in him. 
 
 Rio. Why, sir, you're a conjuror. I left him in agonies 
 and he's now at rest, without the appearance of a throb ; 
 how did you effect this signal transition ? 
 
 O' Cal. Why, sir, I don't like broaching the secret of 
 our art, but if you really wish to know — 
 
 Riv. I have the greatest desire. 
 
 O'Cal. Well, then, sir, of course you've heard of the 
 agency of magnetism. 
 
 Riv. Magnetism 1 
 
 O' Cal. That fact! in physics that when two people come 
 togethe'', who correspond in tempera?nent, the one has the 
 power to control the motions of the other. 
 
 Riv. I have heard of it. 
 
 O'Ciil. Well, sir, seeing that your son's disorder was 
 not of the common kind, I resolved to try its influence. 1 
 goon discovered that there was an ajjini'.ij between us, and 
 that it lay in my power to be of serTi;e to him. So, as 
 we •'»]r, air, I put myself in a "state of agreement with 
 
SCEKE II.] 
 
 HIS LAST LEGS. 2l 
 
 him," and you see the reoult — his pain Jiaappeared, hia 
 anxiety ceased. 
 
 Iliv. And all tliis prod'jced by — 
 
 O'Cal. A few passes of the hand, sir; did youniver 
 see the process ? It's tlie simplest in the world — it's in 
 this manner. [Passes /lis hand over Rhers' face. 
 
 liii: How very singular; then, if I understand you, 
 you and my son are in a slate of agreement ] 
 
 O'Cul. Exactly so. 
 
 Riv. Wkich enables you to control all his movements— 
 
 O'Cal. Precisely. 
 
 Riv. How very wonderfiil ! 
 
 O'Cal. If he was to move now, I'd give you proof of it 
 Eh ! I think he's stirring — now observe, sir, by raising my 
 liand in this manner, he extends his right arm, and by 
 dropping it so, he lifts his left leg, 
 
 [C/iarles ohet/s his directions. 
 
 Riv. Why, I can't believe my eyes. 
 
 O'Cal. Obser\-e again, sir: by passing my hand in this 
 way, I draw off the magnetic influence, and allow him to 
 wake — then of course the pain returns, and he exhibits all 
 tlie usual phenomena. [Makes a few passes. Charles pre- 
 tends to make turns, tcrithcs, and at length howls. 
 
 liiv. I see, I see. 
 
 O'Cal. And, now, sir, to recompose him. [Makes somt 
 more passes, and Charles sinks back again into sleep. 
 
 Rir. It's absolute magic. 
 
 O'Cal. And yet, sir, it's produced by nothing more than 
 a motion that way, and another that. 
 
 [First making passes at Rivers, and tkcu telegraphing 
 Charles. 
 
 Eiv. This is a very wonderful man ; 1 must know more 
 about him. May I be allowed, sir, to ask the name of a 
 gentleman so skilled in his profession ? 
 
 0'C(d. [Aside.] My name — that's a puzzler. I ca\i't 
 say O'Callaghan, on Mrs. M.'s account. 
 
 Riv. If you've a card about you, I shall be most hajijiy 
 to receive it. 
 
 O'Cal. A card! why, really, sir, I'm afraid I — [Feels in 
 his pocket,] — yes, hero is a card, sure enough. — My fellow 
 passenger's — and as luck will have it, he's a doctor. Ah, 
 :he very thing — there, sir. 
 
V2 HIS LAST LEGS. ^AcT I 
 
 Rh: "Dr. Bxnhs, No. 15 Rz*e Vicloire, Parh." 
 
 O'Cal. Yes, sir. 
 
 Kii>. [Aside.] Can it be possible ? — this is the name and 
 the address of Julia's father. 
 
 O'Cal. [Aside] The old gentleman seems struck with 
 me. 
 
 Riv. [Aside^ That unha )py man, who, for so many 
 years, has been estranged from his family — 
 
 O'Cal, [Aside] It's my card that tickles him; how lucky 
 I had it. 
 
 Riv. [Aside] He has returned to England, then, and, 
 in this unlooked-fbr manner, found his way into my house. 
 
 Enter John, l. 
 
 John. Please, sir, when would you like dinner? 
 
 Riv. Now, if it's ready. 
 
 O'Cal. [Aside] Dinner! that sound rouses me like a 
 trumpet. 
 
 Riv. Call Mrs. Montague. 
 
 O' Cal. [Aside.] And that settles me like an avalanche. 
 
 [Exit John, L. 
 
 Riv. Dr. Banks, I hope you've no engagement — you'!i 
 dine with us to-day ] 
 
 O'Cal. Well, sir, I've no objection. I always like to eat 
 at this time for a philosophical reason. 
 
 Riv. Indeed, what's that, pray 1 
 
 O'Cal. Because, sir — "Nature abhors a vacuum." 
 
 Riv. [Aside] He must not know his child is here, at 
 least till I ascertain his sentiments — then who knows bul 
 I may be the means of bringing them together. 
 
 Enter Mns. Montague, r. 
 
 Mrs. M. Is it possible ? — Charles fast asleep ! 
 
 Riv. Yes, Lyddy, without pain or fever ; we owe hia 
 ease, perhaps his life, to the singular skill of this gentle- 
 man. Allow me, sir, to introduce you to my sister, Mr«. 
 Montague. [Leading ]\lrs. M.Jhruard — she recognizes him. 
 
 Mrs. M. Can it be ? 
 
 Riv. Why, what's the matter 7 
 
 Mrs. M. Support me — it's his spirit. 
 
 [Sinlis iftto a chair, r., screamtttg. 
 
 iTCal. Doi't be alarmed, sir — a touth of the Jailing 
 
h.^tir. II.] Ill:; LAST LEO«. CJ 
 
 sickness, that's all — limbs weak, mind disordered, ♦vtiight 
 wandering. 
 
 3Irs. .¥. Mr. O'Callaglian ! 
 
 O'Cal. Exactly so. There's a symptom, sir! — takoa 
 me for some friend of her's. May I trouble you for a 
 glass of water, whilst I operate upon the lady. 
 
 Rir. I'll fetch it directly — how very odd; is there an 
 epidemic raging? [E£it,\.. 
 
 Mrs. M. Mr. O'Callaghan, what does this mean t 
 
 O'Cal. Mean, my angel! what should it mean, bjf — 
 
 Mrs. M. What brought you here, sir 1 
 
 O'Cal. You, madam. 
 
 Mrs. M. 1 1 
 
 O'Cal. Of course, to speak to you, to look at you, to 
 gaze upon that face once more, which for ten long years 
 lias been the one bright star amidst my darkness. 1 have 
 dared all things. 
 
 Mrs. M. Is it possible ? 
 
 O'Cal. It is truth, by all the pangs that I now feel her« 
 —no, here. 
 
 R«-enter Rivers, with water, l. — Betty comes from t/tt 
 back. 
 
 nil'. Here's the water, doctor. 
 
 O'Cal. That's not wanted. 
 
 JScl. Dinner's served, sir. 
 
 O'Cal. That is. 
 
 Rir. Is she restored ? 
 
 O'Cal. Perfectly, sir. 
 
 Riv. And how did you effect it f 
 
 O'Cal. Oh, the old way, you know. [Makes passes, 
 
 Riv. What a very wonderful man ! 
 
 C/ia. [Asiilc] Why, what the deuce ! has he been mag- 
 netising my aunl 7 
 
 Riv. Well, doctor, will you give Mrs. M. your arm 1 
 Now, Betty, mind no one disturbs Charles — he's in a sv\ ect 
 •leep ; and really, this person's talent is almost supernatu- 
 '«i. [E.rit, L. — O'Callaghan giring ]\bs. j\I. his arm, is fol- 
 lowing. Charles rises foom the sofa. 
 
 Cha. I say, old fellow, it's all right. 
 
 VCa'. Itigl I ! — by my soul, vre'rt' as right as a twf> 
 
2-1 MIS LAST LEGS. ^ncr I 
 
 year-'jid fox on '.he floor of a henroost ; come along, mj 
 angel. [Leads her out — drop descend*. 
 
 END OF ACT I. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I. — Parlours of the Villa, same as Act I., elegan y 
 Jumished, opening at back vpon a lawn — doors l. and u. 
 
 Enter Rivers, tcit/i Julia, at door, l. 
 
 Riv. Now, Julia, we're alone, and I can make my dis- 
 closure. You observed that gentleman at table ? 
 
 Jul. Yes, sir. 
 
 Riv. Did you foel any mysterious inclination to throw 
 yourself upon his bosom. 
 
 Jul. Not I, indeed, sir. 
 
 Riv. Of course you recollect your Jatlier ? 
 
 Jul. I regret to say, but imperfectly ; you must remem- 
 ber he has been away ten years, and — 
 
 Riv. But yoa are sure of one thing, that he resides in 
 Paris 1 
 
 Jul. Quite sure, sir. 
 
 Riv, And you know even the street 1 
 
 Jul. The Kue Victoire, No. 15. 
 
 Eiv. Well, then, you may judge my feelings, when, on 
 asking this stranger for his card, he put this into my hand. 
 
 [Gives her the card. 
 
 Jul. Is it possible ! Oh, let me fly to him ! 
 
 Riv. Not so — that might ruin all ; you know his chamc- 
 ler is proud and sensitive, and, labouring under tho delu- 
 sion that he does, he must be approached with caution. I 
 know if 1 were abrupt with him, he'd instantly take fi -e 
 I must get him alone, lull his suspicions, rouse his symj a- 
 thies. Eh, some one's coming — perhaps it's he; let a« 
 retire a moment, and prepare for the attempt. 
 
 [Exit Jcith Julia at hark, l. U, 
 
 Cii/LULES and O'Cali.aghan come from i,. 
 Cha. So you liked your dinner 1 
 
gctwE I.] t'iS LAST LtGS. 25 
 
 0' Cal. My dinner] my hanqiict, si."! Such 8.)U[), such 
 fis.h, and wild fowl, I never saw upon table — aiid as for 
 tlie claret, by my soul, when I drank it, I couldn't help 
 wisliing I liad as many mouths as the Gancrcs. 
 
 Cha. But tell me whit has passed ; my father, you say, 
 lias no suspicions. 
 
 O'CaL Suspicions ! — he's as confiding as a sucking pig; 
 he's so grateful for the good I've done to you, that lie's re- 
 solved 1 shall sleep here to-night, in order to be ne;ir my 
 patient. 
 
 C/ia. Ha ! ha ! —how very kind of hira ! 
 
 O'Cal. Wasn't it; to reward his anxiety, I begged to 
 withdraw and see how you were doing. Of course, I find 
 you much better, but unable to leave home for a fortnight. 
 
 C/ia, That, at the earliest. 
 
 O'Cal. Now, my dear friend, I must tell you, that there's 
 only one chance of this little compact of ours be Jig knock- 
 ed on the head. 
 
 C/ia. And what's that ? 
 
 O'Cal. There's a lady here that I had the honour of 
 knowing formerly. 
 
 C/ia. You don't mean my aunt 1 
 
 O' Cal. I do : and as she has requested an explanation, 
 I suppose the best plan is to confess. 
 
 C/ta. Not for the world — she's as scrupulous as an old 
 maid, and as Julia is her friend, she'd tell my father in 
 Btantly. 
 
 O'Cal. Ohe! 
 
 C/ia. You must satisfy her with some account. 
 
 O'Cal. But what if she is rather clever in investigating 
 accounts ? 
 
 Cha. Well, then, if nothing else will do, you must treai 
 her as you have done ray father — you must magnetise her. 
 
 O'Cal. Why, I have done that already. 
 
 Cha. Eh ! why, I see her in the garden, evidently with 
 a viewtif speaking to you. I'll leave you, then ; but, for 
 heaven's sake, be cautious ! \Exit throvgh thor, u. 
 
 O'Cal. Faith, Felix, my friend, I begin to think tlia 
 ride's turning — I'm decidedly in luck at present ; I'm hous- 
 ed here for to-night, and can go back to town with a sum 
 \n ray pocket that will start a new enterprise ; my only 
 fear is, mv old friend liere, she who was once to have been 
 
86 HIS lA^r LEGS. Act II 
 
 Mrs O'Callaglian. How odd our meeting, aftei ten years' 
 Beparation. Of course, she foigets the past now — she has 
 a husband, and though she was forced to marry liim, she 
 must like him by this time, for time, they say, endears all 
 things ; though I rather doubt that maxim, for I've known 
 povfiiji for some years, and divil take me if time has en- 
 deared that. 
 
 Mrs. Montague advances from, the hack, l. c. 
 
 Mrs. M. Mr. O'Callaghan ! 
 
 O'Cal. \Turning.\ Mrs. Montague. 
 
 Mrs. M. At length we're alone, and of course you can- 
 not wonder at my surprise. I really thought that you were 
 dead. 
 
 O'Cal. Well, T don't say I've been living — I've been a 
 sort of Dervise since we parted, a man who wanders and 
 fasts. 
 
 Mrs. M, Then your present profession you adopted from 
 necessity ? 
 
 O'Cal. Yes, madam— absolute necessity, I assure you. 
 
 Mrs. M. Of course you're manied 1 
 
 O'Cal. Indeed I'm not — I'm still punishing the sex for 
 your falsehood — I'm as free as air, — and as empfi/. 
 
 Mrs. AI. [Aside.] Poor fellow, then lie has kept his 
 word, if I have not. — I am to conclude, then, that you're 
 aware of my present situation 1 
 
 O'Cal. Oh, don't mention it — consider my feelings. 
 
 Mrs. M. You have heard that I'm a widow, and — 
 
 O'Cal. A what? 
 
 Mrs. M. A widow. 
 
 O' Cal. [Aside.] Pililoo, here's news ! 
 
 Mrs. M. 'Tis now only six months since I have left off 
 mourning. 
 
 O' Cal. To a day, madam. I have counted every Lour 
 of it. 
 
 Mrs. M. But you seem to be in sables still. 
 
 O'Cal. Yes, madam, I have worn black ever since that 
 fatal morning which — [SigJit. 
 
 Mrs. M. [Aside.] Was thoro ever such fidelity ! 
 
 O'Cal. After I lost her in whom my soul was centered, 
 what had I done, but buried the whole world. 
 
 3Irs. AT. I heard that you had spent your fortune, — '.hal 
 you'd become very dissipated. 
 
gCEBE I ] HIS r.AST LEGS. •. I 
 
 O'Cal. And can you wonder] what wont ii man do to 
 stifle his despair] 
 
 Mrs. J\I. [Aside.] Poor fellow — how his attachtnent 
 touches inc ] 
 
 O'Cal. Look at me, madam — this faded form! this 
 sunken eye ! — did you ever on the Coast of Cornwall see 
 a greater wreck? — I wont afflict you with the story of my 
 downfall. Suffice it, that since I lost you, I have passed 
 ttrough every stage of misery, from sunshine and chaii>- 
 pagne, to clouds and heavy wet. 
 
 ]\Irs. M. Well, then, to explain my visit here. I must 
 tell you that the fortune I've been left — 
 
 O' Cal. Oh, don't speak of fortune, you know how I 
 despise it. 
 
 Mrs. M. [Astic] His sentiments are as noble as ever — 
 is an estate in Yorkshire, which, removing me from all so 
 ciety, I am anxious to exchange. 
 
 O'Cal. Oh, then you're in want of society, and you're 
 troubled with an estate 1 
 
 Mrs. M. Exactly so. 
 
 O' Cal. Well, then, my darling, how lucky is this meet 
 ing; for here am 1, who can give you the one, and relieve 
 you of the other. 
 
 J\Irs. M. You're very kind, but my brother will do that. 
 
 O'Cal. Fob ! poh ! it's not a brother that you want, it's 
 a husband. 
 
 Mrs. M. A husband ! 
 
 O'Cal. Of course! don't you say you want to change 
 your estate ] 
 
 Mrs. M. Well, well : but you know what I mean. 
 
 O'Cal. To bo sure I do — that you liked marriage so 
 well, you wouldn't object to repeat the mixture. Well, 
 then, here am I, properly done up, and ready to bo taken. 
 
 Mrs. M. Now, you impudent man, you know very well 
 that — 
 
 O'Cal. It's a fair exchange — to be sure it is. You wan: 
 company, and you're troubled with fortune. I want for 
 tune, and am troubled with company. 
 
 Mrs. M. Well, well, we'll speak of this at some other 
 time. 
 
 O'Cal. Some other time ! — would you lell a dying man 
 
28 HIS LAST LEGS. [ActIi 
 
 that you'll cure him some other time? — let mo know my 
 fate at once. 
 
 Mri. M. No, no ; when we go to town, you can write 
 to me. 
 
 O'Cal. Writo! Why write, when I can talk to you— 
 when I can speak a dozen letters on the spot, and you can 
 look back a whole post-office upon me. 
 
 [Seises her hand and, kneels. 
 
 Mrs. M. But don't kneel, for heaven's snke. 
 
 O' Cal. I'll be as pious as a broken-kneed post-horse till 
 I have my answer. 
 
 Mrs. M. But, but — there's some one coming. 
 
 O' Cal. I ask an answer. 
 
 Mrs. M. Consider, for heaven's sake ! 
 
 O'Cal. An answer. [Drawing her towards him. 
 
 Enter Rivers Jrom the Lawn. 
 
 Riv. Dr. Banks I 
 
 [Mrs, M. screams and falls on O' Callaghan's shoulder 
 — Rivers advances — O' Callaghan makes passes. 
 
 O' Cal. Another touch, sir. 
 
 Riv. What — of the falling sickness ] 
 
 O'Cal. Exactly, sir. May I trouble you for a chair 1 
 [Rivers places one — Mrs. M. sinks into it. 
 
 Riv. ^Vhy, bless my soul, what a family I've got ! Are 
 you better, Lyddy ? 
 
 Mrs. M. Yes, brother, a little better — and how provok- 
 ing this intrusion 1 
 
 O'Cal. You, see, sir, she's still disordered ; however, if 
 she'll only attend to my advice, I'll undertake she shall 
 nave no relapse. 
 
 Riv. Then pray do, Lyddy, oblige me by consenting. 
 
 O'Cal. Do, my dearest madam — you'll oblige both of 
 us. 
 
 Mrs. M. I'm stronger now ; if you'll allo.v rr.o, I'll re- 
 tira. [To O' Callaghan.\ Oh, you bold man, what am I to 
 Bay to you 1 
 
 O'Cal. What, my darling! why, that you'rL- mine in a 
 week. [Exit Mrs. .M. through door, l. 
 
 Riv. Well, doctor, you seem tn understand the widow'a 
 easel 
 
•ccni i.l HIS LAST LEGS. 29 
 
 O'Cal. Perfectly, sir; and I beg to say, I shan't loava 
 Iter — till you've witnessed a change. 
 
 Riv. [Aside.^ Why, his humanity is equal to his skill. 
 
 O'Cal. [Aside.] A widow with a foituue ! I'm a made 
 man again. 
 
 Jlir. [Aside] Now, then, we're alone, and I can make 
 my disclosure. — Well, doctor, Charles is so much recover- 
 ed, he's actually strong enough to take a turn in tiie gar- 
 den. 
 
 O^Cal. I'm glad to hear it, sir. 
 
 Riv. And if you're glad, sir, what must I be — what can 
 J say to him who has bestowed on me this happiness ? 
 
 O'Cal. Well, well, my dear sir, no more, thanks; I 
 really don't deserve them. 
 
 Rii\ You desen-e much more than thanks, sir, or the 
 poor repayment of a fee. You must admit, lh;it having 
 done so much for my comfort, I should feel a little for 
 yours. 
 
 O'Cal. Really, sir, I thank you, but — [Aside] — What's 
 coming now, I wonder — any more good luck ? 
 
 Riv. As a friend, then, and anxious to display my gra- 
 titude, allow me to say, that I am acquainted with your 
 unhappy history. 
 
 O'Cal. The divil you are ! 
 
 Riv. I know the subject is painful — I feel its peculiar 
 delicacy ; but with a view to your happiness, allow me to 
 refer to your wife and child. 
 
 O'Cal. My what, sir? 
 
 Riv. Your wife and child, sir! 
 
 O'Cal. Why, you're dreaming, sir! 
 
 Riv. That unhappy pair, who, for ten long years — 
 
 O'Cal. But this is moonshine — I am simply — 
 
 Riv. [Producing /lis card.] "Dr. Banks, o/'15 Rue 7ie- 
 toire, Pari.i." 
 
 O'Cal. Yes, sir. 
 
 Riv. And consequently, husband of my respected fnetid 
 of Guild ford-street, and fithcr of her lovely and accom- 
 pliglied daughter. 
 
 O'Ca!. [Aside.] Phew! 
 
 Riv. I'm not surprised at your langiiage, because I kno\* 
 your sad impression, that your devoted wife is unuort'>j 
 of jour regard. 
 
30 HIS LAST LEGS. 
 
 [A.-i U 
 
 O'Cal. \ Aside.] Here's a bog I've walked inai ! 
 
 Rii\ But am I to sufl'er this delusion to continue, wlun 
 I know her innocence — when I know liow much sIjc loves 
 you, and would rejoice at your return 1 
 
 O'Cii/. \ Aside] What the divil am I to do? 
 
 Rii\ You're silent, you're embarrassed. Thii.k, sir, if 
 your wife have erred, has she not atoned — has she not 
 been punished by ten long years of suffering estrangemonti 
 
 O'Cal. \ Aside.] Well, I'm in for it, and on I must go. 
 
 Riv. Allow me, then, to hope that you'll respond to her 
 desires, that you'll magnanimously consent to foigret the 
 past, and — \0' Callagkan pulls out a handkcrrkirf, and tnrnt 
 away, as though struggling with his Jeclings.] — Tears! 
 Oh ! that's a happy sign. Let them flow, sir; nature has 
 no ice that defies a thaw. Let them flow on, sir, to assure 
 rce that — [O' Callaghan, after another struegle, turns. 
 
 O'Cal. Mr. Rivers— 
 
 Riv. Yes, sir. 
 
 O^Cal. You cannot wonder at my agitation 1 
 
 Riv. Wonder, sir? 
 
 O'Cal. You cannot be surprised that your question had 
 eonfused me. 
 
 Riv, Of course not ; you didn't expect it would be put 
 to you. 
 
 O'Cal. I own, sir, I did not. 
 
 Riv. In fact, how should you; you didn't know I was 
 aware you had a family. 
 
 O'Cal. How the divil should I, sir — [aside,] when I 
 didn't know it myself? 
 
 Riv. 1 feel it all, sir ; but since — 
 
 O'Cal. Of course, sir, since it's been discovered — and 
 since you say my wife is contrite for her conduct — con- 
 duct, sir, of which it is impossible for nio to state to you 
 the nature — 
 
 Riv. You will pardon and receive her ? 
 
 O'Cal. \ After a sigh..] It's my duty as a Christian I 
 
 Riv. Then, sir, I'm overjoyed to tell you, that she's on 
 her road from London, and tliat your driugliler is in the 
 next room. 
 
 O'Cal. What, sir? 
 
 Riv. Yes, sir — waiting for your permission to approach 
 you. Never had I greater happiness than in biinginghcr 
 
■CEMBl.] HIS LAST I.EbS. 31 
 
 G'Cal. But, Mr. Rivers — 
 
 Riv. No, no ; I cannot suffer you to deny mo. V^ou've 
 promised to receive her, and ycu shall. 
 
 [Exit, through door, L. 
 
 O'Cal. The divil fly off with him ! In the next room? 
 By my soul, then, I'm settled within the next minute ! I 
 em ruined entirely, and all with good luck. An hour ago 
 I hadn't a home for my head, or a friend to my back, and 
 now I've got a family ready made to my hands. What's 
 to be (Vone ? The girl, of course, must know her father ; 
 she will expose me on the spot, and — by my honour, she's 
 coming. Oh, it's all up with rac ! here's my old luck I 
 I'm a lost man ! I'm mined ! I'm done for ! I'm — 
 
 Rivers leads in Julia from door, l. 
 
 Jul. Is it possible ! — my dear, dear father ! 
 
 \Rushcs into his arms, 
 
 O'Cal. [Aside.] It's all right, by Jupiter ! 
 
 Riv. [Aside.] 'rhis scene repays me for all my efforts. 
 
 O'Cal. My beloved child, do we meet again ? 
 
 Jul. The happiness is mutual, be assured. 
 
 O'Cal. Stop, let me gaze upon you. Oh, how like youj 
 mother. 
 
 Rio. [Jlside.] A joy like this is too sacred to be intrud- 
 ed on. We want now but the mother to arrive, and the 
 good will be complete. [Exit through, dour, i.. 
 
 O'Cal. My angel of a girl! But how much you're 
 grown ! really, you're so altered, I can scarcely recollect 
 you. 
 
 Jill. Is it possible ! 
 
 O'Cal. If I hadn't been told you were my child, I ne- 
 ver should have known it. 
 
 Jul. And you, papa, seem very unlike what I expected, 
 you look so much younger, and — 
 
 O'Cal. I do ■? But then, appearances, you know, are 
 •ometimes treacherous. You mustn't suppose I am exactly 
 what I look. 
 
 Jul. Why, very true. 
 
 O'Cal. [.\sidc.\ By my honour, she's a pjiagon ; who 
 wouldn't have a daughter] 
 
 Jul. [Aside.] And to suppose he was so cold and distant 
 Oh, how much they have been mistaken I 
 
32 HIS LAST LEGS. 
 
 /Act II 
 
 O'Cnl. And it's ten years since we parted. Why, il 
 seems but a day since 1 carried you in these arms, a snail, 
 ing, lisping baby. Of course, you don't remember the^-o- 
 cait 1 bouglit you ? 
 
 Jul. No, papa, I don't. 
 
 O'Cal. Nor the ivory ring, when you wei'e cutting your 
 teeth I 
 
 Jul. Nor that either, strange to say. 
 
 O'Cal. \ Aside.] 'Twould be stranger if you did. — Oh, 
 when I look at you, what recollections rush on me. Dc 
 you remember the occasion, Mary, when — 
 
 Jul. Mary ! — do you forget my name, papa ! — it's Julia. 
 
 O' Cal. J ulia — well, of course it is — did 1 say Mary 1 — 
 I meant your mother. 
 
 Jul. But her name's Susan. 
 
 O'Cal. Yes — that's her real name, what she was chris- 
 tened with ; but the fact is, when I said your mother, I was 
 thinking of my mother. 
 
 Jul. Ah — how happy, — how surprised she'll be to meet 
 you! 
 
 O'Cal. No doubt of it. 
 
 Jul. But, papa, you never asked after John. 
 
 O'Cal. John] 
 
 Jul. Yes, papa. 
 
 O'Cal. And who the divil's he ? 
 
 Jul. Do you forget you have a son 1 
 
 O' Cal. Why, what an unnatural villain I am ; 1 really 
 talk to you, my cherub, as if I were a stranger. 
 
 Jul. You know he's still with Mr. Jones? 
 
 O'Cal. Oh, he's still with Mr. Jones, is he? 
 
 Jul. And you've heard that Mr. Jones is removed to 
 Clapham ? 
 
 O'Cal. Clapham — I thought 'twas Tooting. And how's 
 all his family ? 
 
 Jul. His family ! I never knew that he was married. 
 
 O'Cal, Wasn't he? [Aside.] I'm remembering too wmrA 
 bare. 
 
 Jul. My mother will tell you all about his bankruptcy; 
 but we'll not think of that : to see you once more, repays 
 us for all losses. 
 
 O'Cal. It does, my child, it does. — By my soul, this af- 
 fection's mighty pleasant. I wonder whether I shall be na 
 
»r«llEl.J 
 
 HIS LAST LEGS. 33 
 
 well off with her mother T — Julia, you cherub come to my 
 arms ! [Eml>/ace! her again, 
 
 Charles comet from b. 
 
 Cha. Infamous girl ! 
 
 Jul. Mr. Rivers ! 
 
 Cha, And you, sir — villain 'Jiat you are. 
 
 O'Cal. Villain, sir? 
 
 Jul. For heaven's sake, Charles, do you ktow who you 
 ■peak to \ 
 
 Cha. 1 speak to Miss Banks, who I believed to bo one 
 of the purest of her sex, and who I see reclining — 
 
 O'Cal. On the bosom of her Jather. 
 
 Cha. Her father ? 
 
 O'Cal. Yes, sir. 
 
 Cha. Impossible ! 
 
 O'Cal. Oh, of course, sir, though we were strangers till 
 to-day. You know my history better than myself 
 
 Cha. Julia, is this the truth ] 
 
 Jul. It is, indeed, Charles — you see my long-estranged, 
 but much-loved parent. 
 
 Cha. Why, I'm amazed. 
 
 O' Cal. At what, sir ) that the young lady knows her 
 father ? 
 
 Cha. I could not have supposed. 
 
 O'Cal. But you hear, sir — and now, sir, may I ask how 
 I have deserved the name of villain ? 
 
 Cha. Why, sir, I confess that I was hasty. 
 
 O'Cal. Hasty, sir! you break in upon the sacred privacy 
 of a parent and his child. You interrupt the first sweet 
 thrill that I have known for ten long years. 
 
 Cha. But you'll make some allowance for my ignorance ? 
 
 O'Cal. Your ignorance I I thought, sir, you belonged 
 to Cambridge t 
 
 JuJ. Dearest father, don't be angry with him. 
 
 O'Cal. Well, my child, for yt ur sake, I will not. Mr 
 EWers, though you've chosen to apply to me a most oppro- 
 brious term, I'll shew you that it is not in my nature to 
 revenge. I belie re, sir, that you lovo my daughter. 
 
 Cha. Dearer than my life. 
 
 O'Cal. And it would make you happy if y-ju could gain 
 •iiy approbation 1 
 
34 HIS LiST LF,5S A«ll 
 
 Cha. Beyoiid expression, sir. 
 O'Cal. Be happy, then. There, sir. 
 
 [He /lands her ocet to him, 
 Cha. Is it possible ! 
 
 O'Cal. Take her, and raay heaven bless you both. 
 Cha. I want words, sir, to express — 
 O'Cal. [Aside.] Now, that's what I ca\\ jnagnanimity t 
 Cha. Ah, Julia — what happiness! 
 Jul. And now, Charles, I suppose you'll not object if 
 embrace my father 1 
 
 O'Cal. My darling child. 
 
 [She files to him, l. c. He clasps her again, 
 
 Mrs. Montague comes from i.. 
 
 Mrs. M. It is true, then ? 
 
 O'Cal. Mrs. M. — Oh! murder! [Mrs. M. advances, \^. 
 
 Mrs. M. The monster, to deceive me so ! 
 
 Jul, Dear Lydia, congratulate me ; allow me to make 
 you known to one who — 
 
 Mrs. M. You may spare yourself the trouble, Julia : 1 
 have met that gentleman before. 
 
 Jul. Indeed ! 
 
 Mrs. M. But 'tis some years since, and — 
 
 O'Cal, [Aside.] Now I'm deeper in the mud than evor 
 
 Jul. And wont you welcome him ? — do, I implore yi v 
 —do, for my mother's sake. 
 
 Mrs. M, Your mother's sake, indeed I 
 
 ,Tul, [Aside.\ Charles, what can be the cause of this ? — 
 something must have happened. 
 
 Cha. I think we had better leave them, love. Hang 
 this fellow — I begin to have a strange misgiving. I must 
 observe — [heads Jtdia out at hack, c. 
 
 Mrs. M. So, Dr. Banks — for that, I understand, is youi 
 real name — it seems that you're married, sir — married ! 
 
 0' Cal. My dearest Lydia ! 
 
 Mrs. M. Lydia ? — how dare you, sir, address me by that 
 name 'i How dare you speak, or even look at me, after 
 the deceit you have practised ? — married ! 
 
 O'Cal. Well, but if you'll hear me — 
 
 Mrs. M. Not a word, sir. I came to tell you that, had 
 jou been, as I supposed, a free and honourable man, I wag 
 
■CE» 1.1 HIS LAST LEGS. 6Z 
 
 prepared, sir, tj offer you my fortune with an unchanged 
 aflection. As it is — 
 
 O'Cal. Here's a tornado. I tell you, you're deceived 
 and if you'll allow me to explain — 
 
 Mrt. M. Well, sir, what have yo i to explain? 
 
 O'Cal. Why, in the first place, then, my angel, that — 
 \^BeU rings violent! ij outside. 
 
 Julia runs in, follotced bt/ Rivers, i.. 
 
 Jul. Dearest father, my mother has arrived. 
 
 O'Cal. Oh, be asy. 
 
 Mrs. M. [Aside to O' Cal.] Now, sir, what have you to 
 Bayl 
 
 Riv. [Looking off, l.] It is your wife, doctor, I can see 
 her. 
 
 J\trs. M. Profligate man, farewell, forever ! 
 
 [Exit tJirouf;h door, R. c. O'Callaghan jmces the room 
 — they follom him. 
 
 O'Cal. Ten thousand divils ! — there goes a home and a 
 thousand a-year! 
 
 Riv. I can interpret this emotion. Your happiness at 
 your wife's arrival is too great, it overpowers you 
 
 O'Cal. Yes, sir — 'tis enough to be the death of me. 
 
 Riv. Well, then, instead of your immediate meeting, 
 what if I break the news to her, and give you time on both 
 sides to prepare 1 
 
 O'Cal. Far better, sir, far better — for if as you nee, sir 
 I can't express what 1 feel to you^ 
 
 Riv. Exactly so. 
 
 O'Cal. What the divil could I say to htr 1 
 
 Riv. Well, then, doctor, if you'll wait a little, I and 
 Julia will come to you when all's prepaied. Now, cou- 
 rage, my dear sir, courage — all your miseries will soon be 
 over. [Goes off with Julia at bach, c. 
 
 O'Cal. Ye?, over my head, and down they'll be coming 
 If TDy angel has left the house without an explanation, 
 divil a glimpse will I ever get of her again. Here's my 
 old luck, as I'm a sinner. At the moment that I thought 
 the storm was past, that the road was all smooth, and my 
 team in good order, out comes my linchpin, and over I go 
 •fjain. 
 
36 HIS LAST LEGS. Act II. 
 
 Charles comes from r. c. 
 
 Cha. So, sir, my aunt tells me that your •.lans was for- 
 merly Mr. O'Callaghan ? 
 
 O' Cal. Well, sir, and if it were ? 
 
 Cha. Then, by what authority did you give my father 
 the card of Dr. Banks 1 
 
 G'Cal. By the highest authority — 'twas the only one I'd 
 got. 
 
 Cha. But if you took his name, sir, you had x^o right to 
 embrace his daughter as you did. 
 
 O'Cal. No right, when I hadn't seen her for ten years — 
 wasn't I forced to be affectionate to keep up the illusion 1 
 
 Cha. But you were not forced to kiss her, sir. 
 
 O'Cal. And do you grumble at that 1 I kissed the girl 
 solely to serve you — and this is your gratitude ! 
 
 Cha. Gratitude, indeed ! — however, it's all over now. 
 By taking this doctor's name, you've ruined all. Here's 
 his wife arrived — she must know you, if Julia didn't, so 
 the result will be that we shall be both exposed and turn- 
 ed out of the house. 
 
 John runs m from garden, c. 
 
 John. I beg pardon, sir — but here's an old gentleman 
 been knocked down by the London coach, so 1 told them 
 to bring him to you. [Goes out again. 
 
 O'Cal. What's that 1 
 
 Cha. Ha ! ha ! — now, I say, old fellow, you've got a job 
 in earnest. [Exit through door, l. 
 
 O'Cal. Well, now, I suppose things have come to a 
 cliinax — what with a man who wants a surgeon, and a wo- 
 man who wants a husband, I wonder which party I'ni 
 most likely to satisfy. What's to be done 1 — I see but one 
 way — to run to the inn, write a letter to Lydia, and ex- 
 plain everything. I will, I won't delay a moment — I'll 
 mn every step, and — [Going out at back. 
 
 John and Robin enter, supporti?tg Dr. Banks, l. c. 
 
 Dr. Banlis, by all that's marvellous! 
 
 Dr. B, Is it possible ! my fellow passenger t 
 
 [They place him in a chm*. 
 
SCERC I.J HIS LAST LEGS. 37 
 
 (yCal. What's tVie matteT, sir — is your nejk bioko! 
 
 Dr. B. No, thank heaven — nothing broken. 
 
 O'Cul. You're quite sure of that, you're quite positive 
 you don't want a surgeon 1 
 
 Dr. B. Quite so. 
 
 O'Cal. My dear sir, \iomii phased I am to heai it. , oha 
 you may leave us. [Exeunt Servants, l. c.J And row, sir, 
 that tiie fright is over, 1 dare say you are surprised to see 
 me liere \ 
 
 Dr. B. I am, indeed, sir; but not less gratified, since it 
 may be in your power to do me the greatest service. 
 
 O'CliI. Indeed! then I beg you'll name it, and liave no 
 modesty. 
 
 Dr. B. You're aware, perhaps, I have a daughter in this 
 house, who has been parted from me many years — 
 
 O'Cal. 1 have heard so. 
 
 Dr. B. To learn if she will go back with me to France, 
 has brought me to this country. This I know can only be 
 accomplished by a private meeting — and this meeting, 
 perhaps, it's in your power to obtain. 
 
 O'Cal. But what if it's not, sir — wouldn't your wife do 
 as well ] 
 
 Dr. B. My wife — no, sir ; she is a person I can never 
 look upon again. 
 
 O'Cal. Well, sir, of course, I can't refuse you — but as 
 the way to manage it must be considered, perhaps, for 
 
 fc present, you'll enter this room. 
 
 Dr. B. This room ? 
 
 O'Cul. There you'll not be interrupted, and — 
 
 Dr. B. I may rest, then, on your friendship r 
 
 O'Cal. You may, sir, and in the mean time you can rest 
 0(1 that sofa. [Dr. Banks enters room, r.J A thought strikes 
 me — here's this man and woman that have been parted 
 for ten years, now only parted by ten paces ; estranged, 
 perhaps, the whole while for want of e.xplanation. Isn't 
 It ray duty, then, to bring them together, and give them a 
 chance of confessing their folly — it is; but stop, what if, 
 when brought together, my philanthropic wi.sh should be 
 defeated ? What, if these bodies, like a couple in che- 
 mistry, having exhausted their attraction, should exhibit 
 repulsion 1 Why, then, I'll lock the door till tlie fernifnl 
 is over, ar>d see ' f I can't produce a new romhination. 
 
%i HIS LAST LEGS. [A n If 
 
 Eiita- EivEus J'/om l. c. 
 
 Rlv. Joy, d.jctor, joy ! I've discharged my task. I'vm 
 disclosed all tc your wife, and she waits to approach you 
 in a tumult of happiness. 
 
 O'Cal. She does? 
 
 Riv. You have only to go to her, and — 
 
 O'Cal. Why, upon reflection, I think not, sir. 
 
 Hiv. No — 1 hope you don't waver? 
 
 O'Cah Not I, sir ; if you'll be kind enough to step for 
 Mrs. Banks. In that room shell Jind her hushand. 
 
 Riv. Never did I deliver a more welcome message. 
 
 [Exit through door, i,. c. 
 
 O'Cal. Now, then, to use the language of history, I per- 
 ceive the approach of a domestic convulsion. There'll 
 be as fine a fight in that room presently, as the renowned 
 •encounter between the lion Nero and the dog Billy — where 
 ■»hall I go to witness it? Eh, that sofa ! — the very tiling. 
 They're coming — but stop, I'll first give my friend a hint. 
 [Opens the door, R., and speaks in a low voice.] Now, sir, 
 prepare yourself, the lady is approaching. [Retreats, l. 
 
 Rivers comes from c, supporting Mrs. Banks, ichose head 
 is on his shoulder. 
 
 Riv. Now, courage — courage, my dear madam, a few 
 Bteps more, and you are there. You must remember, you 
 do not go to him with any doubt ; he is anxious to meet 
 you, anxious to fold you to his bosom, and banish every 
 difference. [She pauses a moment, then enters mom, k. — he 
 closes the door and listens.] Now for their mefeting. There's 
 the window that opens on the lawn — capital. I'll step 
 round there, and witness all that passes. [Exit at hack, vu 
 o, O' Cal/aghan comes from, behind the sofa, l.. 
 
 O'Cal. All silent still — what a pause before a battlA 
 I'm dying with desire to hear the first gun. 
 
 [Dr. and Mrs. Banks heard within. 
 
 Dr. B. Susan ! 
 
 Mrt. B. John ! 
 
 Dr. B. Traitoress, let me go. 
 
 O'Cal. By my soul, it's beginning ; I'm just in time. 
 ( Turns the key in the door — Dr. Banks licks at it- 
 Mrs. Banks screams. 
 
tCIHE I .J 
 
 HIS LAST LEGS. 39 
 
 Dr. B. Open the door, sir ; let me out. 
 
 O'Cal. Let you out? — not I, sir; don't I know ytiu'ra 
 a madman, tliat's not fit to be trusted, and an't you now 
 safe enough in the arms of your keeper] 
 
 Dr. B. Open the door, sir, or I'll take the law. 
 
 O'Cal. The law, sir ; do you know what says tne law ) 
 Tliat you shall live with your wife, like a good, decent 
 man, and not leave her to live with herself and the devil. 
 I stand here, sir, as the embodied genius of the law, as 
 the voice of the immortal Coke and the illustrious Lyttle- 
 ton, which says on this point, that a wife being flesh of your 
 flesh, and bone of your bone, becomes boni/ Jide a part of 
 your body ; which part to cut off is a capital crime, and 
 subject to judgment ! " Cum rnpi siispcndo." [Pauses and 
 listens.] That's settled him — he'll not be in a hurry to talk 
 of the Icno again. They're silent — awfully silent. -^ 
 thought strikes me — what if this old maniac should have 
 strangled her with the bell-rope, and escaped up the chim- 
 ney ! By my soul, I must look. [Places a chair on sofa, 
 mounts it, and looks ihroiigli a fardight.) It's all right! — 
 there she is, in a chair, rocking, ten miles an hour, and he, 
 fixed as fate, looking ready to cat her. What's coming 
 now, I wonder? On the next minute hangs my destiny 
 — stop, he asks a question, she sobs an answer — that's the 
 course of inquiry. Now he begins to walk, and she be- 
 gins to bellow — that's the course of nature. After the 
 thunder, we're sure to have rain. Now she begins to 
 Bpeak, and he begins to cool — that's a good sign. She 
 asks a questio^^nd he's forced to answer it. Better and 
 belter. She^Pn only sob — he's compelled to soothe. Go 
 on, my darlings. He says something kind, — she looks 
 delighted. By the powers — it's coming; he opens hia 
 arms, she rushes into them. Pililoo ' — it's all right, hy 
 Jupiter. [ Wai\'S his Jiandkcrchief, 
 
 Enter Uivers, folio wed by Charles Julia, ayid Mrs. Mon 
 
 TAOUE, c. 
 
 Riv. What do 1 see ? 
 
 O'Cal. Tho human mind, sir, in its fii.est aspect, sym 
 pathising with the happiness of others. 
 
 Rir. Then, who's in tl at room with Mrs. Banks 1 
 
4/0 HIS LAST LEGS. [Act It 
 
 O'Cul. Who should it be, sir, but he who iias a right to 
 be, her husband. 
 
 Riv. Which you arc not, sir ? 
 
 O'Cal. No, sir, but merely his friend, who entertaiQed 
 the wish that you did, to see his misery put an end to. 
 
 lUir. But, but — how did he get in there 1 
 
 O'Cal. My dear sir, what can it matter how he got 
 there, if he has a right to stay there 1 
 
 \Rivers goes to the door and opens it. 
 
 Riv. Yes, Julia, there is indeed your father, by your 
 mother's side. \ Julia enters room, v.., Jhllowed by Riven 
 and Charles. 
 
 O' Cal. And now, my darling, what do you say ? 
 
 Mrs. M. What can I say. 
 
 O'Cal. Am I the monster you thought me just now 1 
 
 Mrs. M. You are, but certainly a classic one, for you're 
 a sphinx ; there's no understanding you. 
 
 O'Cal. And yet, if 'twas necessity caused my decep- 
 tions, will you refuse me the means of my deceiving no 
 longer 1 
 
 Mrs. M. Not if I was sure of your sincerity — but ought 
 1 to trust you 1 
 
 O'Cal. You ought, my darling — fornobody else will. 
 
 Mrs. M. Can you blame me if I doubt? 
 
 O'Cal. Of course not; but you should imitate the law 
 courts, and give your doubt in favour of the criminal. 
 
 [She gives him her hand. 
 
 Db. Banks, Juli.\, Mrs. Banks, Rivers, and Charles 
 come from r. 4|^ 
 
 Dr. B. Mr. O'Callaghan, in my present happy feelings, 
 I can't be angry at your stratagem, but pray explain to me 
 by what means you — 
 
 O'Cal. My dear sir, if I have been so fortunate as to re- 
 store your peace of mind, nevermind the means. To ex- 
 plain would only confuse me, and, and — 
 
 Dr. B. Tell me, then, what return I can offer ? 
 
 O'Cal. Why, sir; if you're anxious to be even with me, 
 here's my friend, Mr. Charles Rivers, is attached to this 
 young lady, and if, now you've got back a wife, you've 
 no objection to part with a daughter — 
 
 Dr. B. I can have none, sir, if Mr. Rivers has not 
 
•vcnu I.] HIS LAST LEGS. 41 
 
 Rip. 1 1- -certainly not. I wish, however, to auk you 
 one questii.ki. [Dr. and Mrs. Ba?!ks turn away with Charla 
 and Julia.] In getting your friend liere, pray, how did you 
 contrive to I/lind his suspicions ? 
 
 O'Cal. liow, sir? Why, you know my magnetic in- 
 fluence, [Makes passes ivitk his hands. 
 
 liiv. CHi, that way — that's enough. 
 
 [Turns atcay to the party — Charles adrances. 
 
 Cha. Wcli, old fellow, I find you're a trump after all — 
 but, 1 say, I should like to know how you've contrived tri 
 do the old woman so nicely. 
 
 O' Cal. Hew 1 — why, in the way I did you. 
 
 [Makes passes, then telegraphs. 
 
 Cfta. Oho ! I'm satisfied. [ Turns to Julia. 
 
 O'Cal. But 2' /« not satisfied unless the experiments 1 
 have made this evening meet with other's approbation — 
 unless, now the tide has turned with me, and 1 am restored 
 to fortune, that fortune is enhanced by a permission to try 
 my influenca on some of the fair and kindly looks I see 
 C>ofi>re me. [Makes j^^^'f^ <'' ''''* audience. 
 
 DISPOSITION OF THE CHARACTERS AT THE FALL OF 
 THE CURTAIN. 
 
 Cbablxs iiut. Dr. Banks. O'Cal. Mrs. fit. Rncu 
 
KM Pura Gold 
 
 (Catalogue continued 
 
 VOL. XMI, 
 3?0 Ticket of Leave Unn 
 ■ SM Kuol'sKcvcDge 
 SHI o'Nfilthel'raat 
 ai2 nKTi'ty Andy 
 1(3 IMraic- of Ihe Isles 
 334 Pftticbon 
 SU Mitlo B«refor>t 
 336 WUdl.-UbUin 
 
 ^icond page of ci 
 Vi'L. XI. ni. 
 3:17 renrlof i-'nvoj 
 ii^ l)<;«d Menrt 
 339 Tt n Sights In a Hai^rooi 
 Dumb KojofkUacibestvi 
 
 3il Rt^lphcgurtheMoi 
 &4:J Crtoketon the Ucarib 
 S43 Printers Devil 
 B44 Mvg s Ulv«r«loa 
 
 511 Prnnkard 8 t»or-n 
 
 :mT < iflt-eu VouraofaDnirk- 
 ;!H N'j ',*i irouKhrarc TaM'* 
 
 3^0 Kvervbortjr'8 PheT^ 
 Hamlet. In Tbro« Aots 
 Uuule tt Uuiplt 
 
 Prlcfl 31 
 
 ; or. ADlmated PIo* 
 
 turr«. for tbe us« nT KnioMle*, .'V?liooU. nuil I'ubllo 
 KxtiiblUoiu. ByToMVUicsikH. Price 21 
 
 AMATEUR'S GUIDE TO HOME THE- 
 ATRICALS. How I., gri them up. ao^ how to 
 Mt hi them ; to irhlcb is adileil, •■ Hov to get op 
 Tb-.itHcsls loaCoUDlrj Houso." wltb By-I.iiwi, 
 selected Scenes, Playa, and cverythliig useful for 
 Iheloformaliya of amateur socl«Ue». Price 21 
 
 THE OaiDETO THE STAGE, by LcMait 
 THuMASltkDE. ContalDlug clear and rull dlroo- 
 kintng Tbeairlcal Kngnffemeols. with 
 
 rof g.»lni!lhroudb 
 
 comr''*ta arid THiuabltf loi 
 
 Rebrar»alB. aecuriai; prop 
 
 Oral appearance. &o.. Ac. PrLc I< 
 
 THE ART OP ACTING: or Oulde to tbe 
 HUffD. iQwblcb tb(] Dramallo PauloDs are de- 
 iocd. nnalTzed. and mado en^f ot aoquireni(>Dl ; 
 al«o ibe requisites necfuary for perforiuerv of botb 
 sexrm. beroes, geutleniea. luvcra, iradetinieD, 
 elowtii. herolaes, floe ladles, bo) leas, cbaractera 
 ofmlddlaaad olda{e,ew. Prlo« I. 
 
 MASSEYS EXHIBITION RECITER 
 AND DRAWINO-BOOM ENTER- 
 
 TAINT*ENTS. Hclnu choice Recllatluus io 
 proao aud \crse. ToReilier wiih an unique colleo- 
 tloD of Petite Cmcill.!!. Uramaa and Farces, 
 adapted for tbe use of Scboola and ramilies. Two 
 
 numhe-s piT number, 30 
 
 Tbe two numbers, bonud la cloth, School style.... 7& 
 
 THE OLIO: or Speaker's Compaofon. A ool- 
 leciloQ of Keelutlous in Prnse aud VerEe. Dia- 
 logues and BurlesqtK^s. compik-d fur the ui^e of 
 Schools, Thespian Societies, eic, aud for Publio 
 Deciamatluu or Keudiug. latbree parts., .each. IS 
 
 DRAMA3 FOR THE DRAWING- 
 ROOM. By Mibfl Keating. Two pi rta, each. iO 
 
 PLAYS FOR THE PARLOR. By MUs 
 K.KAT1.N0. Tno pofU each. 40 
 
 ACTING CHARADES. By Miss Pt< 
 
 40 
 
 COMIO DRAMAS. forCoilew, Camp, orCablo 
 
 (Hale Cbaiacicrs only .four pans eacb, 40 
 
 DRAMAS FOR BOYSiMnle Characters only). 
 
 by M isa Kbatihg 40 
 
 HOME PLAYS FOR LADIES (Pemnle 
 
 Characters only), complete Id three parts.. , .each, 40 
 AN EVENING'S ENTERTAINMENT, 
 
 an original Comedy, a Burlesque and Faroe 40 
 
 THE 
 
 5 Arriralof DIokens 
 
 6 Black Ole Bull 
 
 T Blackest Tragedy of All 
 
 6 Old Dad aOabln 
 1 The Ri»al Lovers 
 B The .Sham Doctor 
 » Jullr Mlllf-rs 
 
 10 VtNlklhsaDdhlsDiDab 
 
 11 The Quack '(octor 
 11 The Mystic Spell 
 
 13 The Black Statue 
 
 14 UtieleJeff 
 
 1& Tbe MlschleToos Nliti^er 
 
 ETHIOPIAN 
 
 (NEW SERIES.) 
 8 Tom KDd Jerry, and Who' 
 
 D RAMA. 
 
 11 Upper 1 
 13 Hip Va 
 
 u tbeChtc 
 
 15 KuDHlug tiie Blockade 
 Ifl Jet-mcs the Poet 
 17 Intelllgance Offloe 
 13 Echo Bao'i 
 
 irgiuia Mummy 
 
 it LesUi 
 
 2: New Te>r's Calls 
 
 ■ii Troublesome Sorrant 
 
 29 Great Arrival 
 
 SO KnomstoLet 
 
 31 Blark Crook Barlesqai 
 
 33 Ticket Taker 
 
 50 Cor»lci 
 
 51 Deaf 
 bi Cha11<.' 
 63 DeTr^ 
 
 ; Price for Old 
 From iho Owl Train 
 
 Tony Benier's Parlor Fantomimes.— In Ten Parts, 25 Cts. each. 
 
 Sleeker, Esq. Uow ■ 
 
 t AtTTHOB. By Sylvester 
 
 THE FRISK T CoBBi:.CR; 
 
 •> PRnasiKis or P avt 
 
 No. II.-THKRrSKA 
 TMK SCHOOLMASTt 
 
 STATVt Bl^n «mk ; 
 
 No, IIL-M. Deck 
 Fete. Thk DKMOt 
 Family. RobkrtU. 
 
 No. rv.— Jocko r* 
 
 Hlachleroas MoDker. Thk OoNaCHlHT; or. How tc 
 ATotd Ihe Draft. Thv Maoio Fuute; or, Tbe Ma- 
 
 or, TbeMlsfortuuef of J 
 No. VT.— GoDFN'^Ki; 
 
 THE £\CHAXT>,DilOR 
 No. VIT.-ThkSuij>i» 
 
 Spite of Himself. Sir 
 
 Ilungartan BeaUezvous, 
 No, VIII.-TiiK ViLLAGK Ghost: 
 
 Murder both F..iMid t)'it. THE Pair 
 
 or.TbeGoofi Wife s Three Wlabes. 
 No. IX.— Thk K08K or Sharon; or, 
 
 Ftsbertnaa. Pongo. THk l.sTEt.i,iOt: 
 
 tbe Uofortunaie Overseer. 
 No. X.-Mons TeiJPKT thk D4?«ci> 
 
 the Sbators of Wllnau. 
 or. Tbe Witobes' Gift. 
 ■on LOTP : or, A Hero Io 
 iN'B UiflHAPs; or, Tho 
 
 Samuel French, PubUsher, 
 
 lay of tbe abon scot by Mall or Bxprvas, on reeelpl of price. 
 
 1^2 .Nassau Street (Up Stai^u). 
 
5^:51!.' '■* V J. V .-) M . ^ 1 — •— ! g?g^ 
 
 FRENCH'S MINOR DRAMA. 
 
 Price 16 Oenta eacli-— Boxmd "VolmnoB $1. 26. 
 
 «Bo 
 
 
 The l.d 
 f "^b* ?ead Shot 
 ft his l-a'st Le<?« 
 T Thfl lav'tih\« Prince 
 STheUoMeu Farmer 
 
 vnr. II. 
 »PrMe or the Market 
 
 10 I'oe.) Up 
 
 11 The IrUh Tutor 
 
 i Tho Bmrrack Room 
 1$ Luke the Laborer 
 H &«antf aod tbo BcMt 
 15 8t. Patrick iKri 
 18 Ctjitaiu yf Ibe tt'atcll 
 
 1 VOL. ni. 
 
 17 The Secret I p»ra 
 
 I 18 White Hone of Ox* Pep- 
 ) Jaooblio 
 20 The Bottlo 
 SI Ri)x and CoK 
 ibooztlui; 
 
 34 Bobert Macaire 
 VOL, IV. 
 
 VOL 
 
 71 Ir«lftnd and America 
 74 Pretty Piece of 
 
 PUe Pwuorti 
 77 That Blecicd Baby 
 7*»0uf Qal 
 79 8w1hi CoKajte 
 SOTouDK Wldwir 
 VOL. XI. 
 II O'FUDDlgao and the T 
 
 4 VOL. XIX. 
 
 T45Co1umbiit 
 
 144) I^arlequlo RUebeard 
 
 VOL. XXVTII. 
 217 CrlQollDe 
 
 k Family Fatliuc 
 
 1 Dutchiuau'iUbui 
 
 ,i&3 I'erseouted DutoLmui 
 
 VOL. XX. 
 .'l53 Maiard Ball 
 
 219 Adopted Chlt<: 
 SDO«k's20TurDe<t llcaiti 
 
 l2tl^k Hnt>:h In the Dark 
 
 223 Advice (■> Hiiabcodi 
 333SlkmcaeTwltii 
 
 224 Seut to (he Tower 
 I VOL. \r.]X 
 '22s Somebody Klfs 
 
 , alaing thf Wind 
 
 tl slasher and Craiher 
 Sa Naral Sogagemeuti 
 
 VOL. V. 
 8S Ooclcnles In Ca!ir«nil» 
 rbo Speaks FirAb 
 umoaster. Ptiriooo 
 8S Maubetb Travestlo 
 S7 Irish AmbasHadcr 
 88 Delicate OroQDl ... 
 
 8» The V ealherooak IrtoW'lIOAndy Blake 
 
 40 All that Oliiteri U Not "* ' " '" '" 
 VOL. VI. 
 
 41 Giimflbaw, Bagahaw and 
 
 84 Irish Tiger 
 
 8iP. P.,or JlanandTIgei 
 
 ?« To Oblige BeMca 
 
 87 Statt Secret* 
 
 86 Irish Yankee 
 
 VOL. XII. 
 
 89 A Good Fellow 
 
 90 Cherry an-t Fair Star 
 
 91 Gall Breczely 
 9i 0-. .emlmy 
 9SUi1Ier rfMaid 
 
 94 Awkward AtrWal 
 9i Crosalng tl.c Line 
 tt6Coajugal Leason 
 VOL. XTII. 
 97 My Wife's Mirror 
 New Yo '■ 
 
 iOI 1 wo Queens 
 
 103 Thumping Legacy 
 
 103 llDttuUhed GentlciDan 
 
 104 Uuuiie Dug 
 VOL. XIV. 
 
 105 Tho ncmou Lover 
 lUd Matrimony 
 1107 lo Mild Out of Plaoe 
 lOfl I Ulae with My Mother 
 
 I Tragic Ro^lral 
 
 |226 Ladlet' Battle 
 3-j7 Art of Actios 
 lA High LowJack k Game 228 The Lady oftbe L!oi 
 '--■'■ -- - .|2J9Th9RlghUof Man 
 
 1|J30 My Husband's c:bo> 
 :28l Two Caa Play at 
 
 {232 FIgbllag by Proxy 
 
 I VOL. \X\. 
 
 Ii'j.iaijnproteatt.'fl Female 
 .!,i34Petoflhe l'«ttlcoaU 
 
 i235 Fjrty and FIHy , boo! 
 236 Who Stole the Pockei 
 23T My Sod Dli 
 
 VOL. XXI. 
 
 161 PrAmoUt>D [ut 
 
 162 A FasclDatlog Indlrl 
 
 163 Mrs. Gaud to 
 
 194 Shi'L'Hpoare's Dream 
 leSScp.i ■ - 
 
 :C*< l.sdy of Bedchamber 
 167 Take Care * ' '" 
 
 able lot 
 ^ n». White 
 
 168 IrUh WMijfr [ Charley ;340 A Qolet Family 
 
 voL.xxn. ^ VOL. XX - 
 
 169 Yankee PetJdlwr j241 Cool as CiicHmoer . 
 
 170 Hlr»rn Hireoiit 243 «■ ''rl-'\ 1 boagbtf > 
 I Doublc-Be^'lod Room U48 Ju 
 
 241 Cool as Cucumber 
 Tboagbli 
 Jum ^ 
 
 172 Thu Draiai Defendod 1=44 A Blighted Belnj 
 
 173 Vermoot Wwol Dealer |245 Little 'J od.Heklns 
 
 174 Ebeneier Ventura iteri24« A Lover by Proxy I 
 
 175 Prlnctplea from Charac-j«7 Maid with the^MIIkloi 
 
 176 Lady of the Laka (Trar) !ii*8 Perploxiop Predlc; 
 
 VOL. XXIII 
 171 Mill! Dnvi. 
 "8 Barney thit Baton 
 
 1249 Dr. 
 
 ITySwiB 
 
 251 A Luckv lilt 
 
 ,,-y Bachelors Redroom |2-'^2 The Dowager 
 
 1^1 A Roland f..r an Oliver 353 Metainora Barleaqoe. 
 
 iSii More Blunder* than On ^"^^ *" ' a-..-.. « 
 
 '<: 
 
 45 Born to Good Luck 
 '^46Kt88lQtheDsrk [; 
 
 47 'Twonid Puzsle a 
 
 48 Kill or Cure 
 
 , _ to'76 
 
 U'J Eomanoe snder Dtfflcul 
 
 VOL. X V. 
 US One Coat for 2 Suite 
 
 54 Dreamn of »el«*lc 
 »iM Dumb Belle ['■^55 The Shak iT Lorera 
 
 1 "r : 1« ?rerl?k Boy \i^ TlckU,b Time. 
 
 VOU XXIV. I VOL. XSXIII. 
 
 185 Nature and PhUoeopby i^^I ?** "j?"*** 
 IseTemly the Tile ^* i.ii«i.i*- «. 
 
 116 Ko : or, the torloua Ml- 
 
 117 Coroner'H Inquiahioti 
 
 118 Love ill Humble Life 
 - .nllyJars 
 
 ... VOL. XVL 
 
 49 Bor and CoxMarrled endilZl Children in the Wood 
 
 60 St. Cupid iSetUod 122 Winning a Husband 
 
 61 no-to-bed Tom 
 
 ,<58 Ulralda 
 
 6-2 Tie Lawyers 
 b-i .lack^beppard 
 54 raeToollei 
 66 Toe Mi>L>cnp 
 o6 Ladles Bewani 
 VOL. vill 
 i 6TMoTi,li,gCall 
 I 58Popt.iugtbcQu« 
 * 69 bear as a Post 
 
 63 Brian O' Linn 
 M Irish Assurance 
 VOL. IX. 
 65 Temptation 
 68 Pa-ldy t^arey 
 67TwoGreg«rIea 
 ftS King Charming 
 I 69 Fo-ca-bon-iss 
 I lOOlookmaker'sHs 
 I Tl Married Rake 
 
 124 Make Yoi 
 
 y Wife 8 Huabaod 
 
 127 rionsifur Tui.son 
 
 128 Ulualiious StriiHger 
 VuL. XVII 
 
 129 Mischief-Making [Mines 
 
 Villil 
 
 . Live Wo 
 
 I in the 
 
 197 Hpoctro Bridgroom 
 11*8 Matti-o Falcone 
 189 Jeu.iy LJnd 
 l&OT^To Buszarda 
 mi Uappv Man 
 
 192 Betaj Baker 
 
 VOL. XX\-. I 
 
 193 No. 1 Boood the Comer, 
 
 194 Teddy Roe 
 
 195 0hji 
 ,196 My 
 1197 heuisnlTlg< 
 
 ghlng UvcDft 
 199T1I'; Vi.ttJt Vanquished 
 
 200 O'lr Wife 
 VOL. XXVI. 
 
 201 My Hurband"! Mirror 
 
 202 Yankee »aud. 
 20SNorali Crelna 
 204 Good for Nottilog 
 
 (ho Juktlc 
 [259 A Soldier ■ Cotirti.h!p 
 
 by Legacy 
 
 135 *Iotblng to Su«e 
 13C Wanted a Widow 
 VOL. XVIIL 
 
 187 Lottery Tl.*ct 
 
 140 Marrle'l jiachelor 
 
 255TWJS . 
 
 2tfiSi3!t ■ 
 
 "'&pev)Msn uooa jo*.* 
 A Twice Told'Ialo 
 
 270 Fee de Faacluation 
 
 271 Revolutionary Soldiei 
 Man Wlihouta Heal 
 
 VOL. XXXV. 
 j7STb©(Hlo. Parti 
 
 274 The Olio. Par 3 
 
 275 The Olio. Part ^ . 
 
 276 TheTrump''t<^i'J u»wgi 
 277Seelni! Warrio 
 273 Green Mountain Boy 
 2.9 Tht 
 
 143 Animal Magnet.-^ .. 
 
 ,144 Highways ai-d By-W»ji| 
 
 ■i07"\\BnrtcrlLg Minstrel 
 •/08 Wanted. iOOU MlUlnen 
 
 Vol. xxvn. 
 
 1201- Poor PllcPddy 
 
 J310 The Mummy "iGlasw 
 
 |2ll l>«B'<»-'"'K<'ty»nrupcrii ™ -j-^^>,^^^^j^ 
 
 ^OL ItXIX. Itnre