34 
 M5 
 1 
 
 >OL AND SOCIAL DRAMA, 
 
 '*-A.ct T^ell 3ro-u.r part." 
 
 Wide Enougji for Two, 
 
 By T. S. DENISON, 
 
 :p:E^ICE is geistts^ 
 
 CHICAGO :• 
 
 T. S. DENISON 
 
 NO PLAYS EXCHANGED. 
 
THE STAR DRAMA. 
 
 Price, FIFTEEN CTS. EACH, Postpaid. 
 
 This series includes only plays of the hig-hest order of merit. They arc the very 
 best before the public. These plays are rich in variety of incident, and spirited in 
 action. The dramas combine tender pathos, delightful humor, and sparkling- wit. 
 The farces are brimful of the rarest fun. 
 
 This series is very carefully revised by an experienced editor. Each play is un- 
 abridged. They arc unequaled in fullness of stage directions, typography, and 
 print. Every play on this list is a success. This series includes only plays suited 
 to tlie present aay. 
 
 AIiL. THAT G1.1TTERS IS UTOT OOIiD.-A comic drama in two 
 
 acts. Time, two hours. Six males, three females. 
 CASTE.— A comedy in five acts. Time, two hours and thirty minutes. Five 
 
 males, three females. 
 EAST li YWUfE.— A drama in five acts. Time, two hours and thirty minutes. 
 
 Eight males, seven females. 
 J^RriTS OF THE AVIXE CUP.— A temperance drama in three acts. 
 
 Time fifty minutes. Six males, four females. 
 HOME, — A comedy in five acts. Time, two hours. Four males, three females. 
 ICI OX PARL.E FRAWCAIS.— A farce. Time forty minutes. Four 
 
 males, three iemales. 
 IK THE WICOXC^ HOUSE, (two T. J.'s) A farce. Time thirty minutes. 
 
 f< our males, two females. 
 I'M WOT MESIIiF AT Alili,— A farce. Time, twenty-five minutes. Three 
 
 males, two females. 
 JOHN SMITH.— A farce. Time thirty-five min. Five males, three females. 
 HISS TS THE DARK.— A sketch. Time thirty minutes. Three males, two 
 
 females. 
 liAD Y OF li YONS.— A drama in five acts. Time, two hours and forty-five 
 
 minutes. Twelve males, four females. 
 liARKIXS' I<OVE IiETTERS.— A farce. Time, forty minutes. Four 
 
 males, two females. 
 I<OUVA, THE PAUPER.— A drama in five acts. Time, one hour and 
 
 forty-five minutes. Nine males, four females. 
 lilMERICK BOY. (THE)- A farce. Time, fortv-five minutes. Five 
 
 males, two females. 
 MY IVIFE'S REI.ATION8.— Comedietta. Time, one hour. Four males, 
 
 six females. 
 MY TURiV NEXT.— A farce. Time forty-five min. Four males, three females. 
 MY XEIOHBOR'S WIFE.— A farce. Time forty-five minutes. Three 
 
 males, three females. 
 NOT SUCH A FOOIi AS HE IiOOHS.— A fiircical drama in three acts. 
 
 ^ Time, two hours. Five male^, four females. 
 PifiRSECUTED DUTCHMAN. (THE) -A farce. Time, fifty minutes. 
 
 six males, three females. 
 qUIET FAMIIiY, (A)— A farce. Time, forty-five minutes. Four males, 
 
 four females, 
 REGUUAR FIX, (A)— A farce. Time, forty min. Six males, four females. 
 ROUOH DIAMOND. (THE) (Country Cousin)— A farce. Time, forty 
 
 minutes. Four males, three females. 
 SOIiBIER OF FORTUNE. (A)— A comedy drama in five acts. Time, 
 
 two hours and twenty minutes. Eight males, three females. 
 SPARKIilNC^ CUP, (THE)— A temperance play in five acts. Time, one 
 
 hour and forty -five minutes. Twelve males, four females. 
 TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR ROOM.— A temperance drama in five acts. 
 
 Time, two hours. Twelve males, four females. 
 TOODIiES. (THE)— A drama in two acts. Time, one hour and fifteen min. 
 
 Six males, two females. 
 TURN HIM OUT.— A farce. Time, forty-five min. Three males, two females. 
 THE TWO PUDDIFOOTS.— A farce. Time, forty minutes. Three 
 
 males, three females. 
 UNDER THE IjAUREIiS.— A drama in five acts. Time, one hour and 
 forty-five minutes. Five males, four females. 
 
 T. S. DENISON , Publisher, Chicago. 
 
 The Danger Signal, a drama in two acts, by T. S Deni- 
 son. Time, i hour, so minutes; 7 males, 4 females 
 
 Wide Enough for Two. a farce, byT. S. Denison." Time 
 50 mmutes; 4 males, 2 females. ' 
 
 The Joke on Squinim,(or the black statue), 30 minutes 
 males, 2 females. Negro farce, by AV. B. Sheddan 
 
 New Plays. 
 
WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO 
 
 A FAROE 
 
 B'S" T. S- IDIEllsriSOIsr. 
 
 AUTHOR OF 
 
 Odds with the Enemy ; Initiating a Granger; Wanted, a Corres- 
 pondent; A Family Strike; Seth Greenback; Hans Von 
 Smash; Borromng Trouble; Two Ghosts in White; The 
 Pull-Back; Country Justice; The Assessor; The Spark- 
 ling Cup; Louva, the Pauper; Our Country ; The 
 School Ma'am; The Kansas Immigrants ; The 
 Irish Linen Peddler; Is the Editor In f 
 An Only Daughter; Pets of Society; 
 Too Much of a Good Thing; 
 Hard Cider; Under the 
 Laurels; The Danger 
 Signal; Etc., Etc. 
 
 10 IS83 J^ 
 
 C H I C A O O 
 
 T. S. DEKISOH, Publisher. 
 
 Copyright, 1883, by T. S. Denison. 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 Mr. Wtckebwork, a male crank. 
 
 Hiram Brush, his level-headed partner. 
 
 Ferdinand Cowley. 
 
 Fritz Kellar, a very funny Dutchman. 
 
 Pump, an American citizen of African descent. 
 
 Miss Prune, a female literary crank. 
 
 Satira Brush, Hiram's daughter 
 
 f5lS34 
 354WS 
 
 Time of playing^ fifty minutes. 
 
 Stage Directions. — R means right, the actor facing the audi- 
 ence ; L left ; C center. 
 
 COSTUMES, MODERN. 
 
 Fritz, ordinary German laborer, or may make up with blonde 
 wig and whiskers, red cheeks, blouse or cardigan jacket, woolen 
 shirt, pants very large and rusty, large, clumsy shoes, cap ; should 
 appear a large, strong man. Pump, patched clothes, holes in 
 boots, calico shirt with gaudy scarf and glass pin, brass rings on 
 fingers, battered stiff hat ; make up not too dilapidated. 
 
 SYNOPSIS 
 
 This farce is one scene of ludicrous fun from beginning to 
 end. The farce opens with a very amusing dialogue between 
 Wickerwork, the social-political crank, and Miss Prune, the lit- 
 erary crank. She is intent on reading him one of her "efforts," 
 while he is equally anxious to show that every platform should be 
 "wide enough for two." Explains his great scheme for hatching 
 chickens by the million and instantaneous hatching by electricity. 
 Fritz and Pump discuss American society. F. explains how he 
 "dressed" the turkeys for the "Bold British Club." Arrival of 
 Brush. Wickerwork explains that he has secured (for $500) the 
 patent right for a "fattening elixir" which will enable poultry to 
 live almost entirely on gravel and water. Enter Pump who says 
 Fritz has baked the eggs in the hatching machine. Ferd, who 
 calls on delicate business, gets the bounce. B. puts Fritz on 
 guard to keep Ferd away. Pump in league with Ferd drafts Fritz 
 into the "chain service." Ludicrous scene with lots of business. 
 Ferd re-enters and mistakes Miss P. for Satira. She thinks heis 
 Wickerwork. A "horrid mistake." W. makes another mistake. 
 Re-enter Fritz who drags out W. ; business. Denouement. 
 
 2 
 
WIDE EHOUGH FOE TWO. 
 
 Scene. Sitting roomlin the house of Hiram Brush, plainly^ hut 
 substantially furnished. Some pictures on the wall. If conve- 
 nient have pictures of prize chickens or something that will repre- 
 sent the poultry business. Table G toward rear ; sofa B rear, and 
 chairs. Discovered as curtain rises, 3Ir. Wickerwork on sofa 
 with a book, and Miss Prune seated by the table making notes in 
 a memorandum book. 
 
 W. {Laying aside hook.) May I inquire wliat you are en- 
 gaged in now, Miss Prune ? 
 
 Miss P. Certainly Mr. Wickerwork ! I am jotting down tlie in- 
 cidents in a chapter of my new novel. 
 
 W. That is the novel which you think of writing. 
 
 Miss P. The novel which I shall write There is nothing 
 hypothetical in the case. The fervor is on me ! I feel the divine 
 afflatus. (Rises, speaks gushingly.) Oh, Mr. Wickerwork you 
 never felt the delicious frenzy, the divine delight of those poetic 
 paroxysms which steal away the senses and leave their happy 
 slave enthralled in . 
 
 W. I never had the disease you speak of, Miss Prune. I am 
 a healthy man. 
 
 Miss P. Oh, Mr. Wickerwork, you are so unpoetic so— so — I 
 almost said prosy. 
 
 W. Say it: That hits the case exactly. I'm plain, prosy, 
 practical, three p's ! (Laughs.) I'm only a business man, a mem- 
 ber of the firm of Brush & Wickerwork, poultry, butter and egg 
 dealers. Butter is a smooth subject, but it is not poetical, and I 
 regret to say not always fresh. Eggs are, I admit, sometimes in- 
 spiring, but they don't keep, and chickens is — spring chickens 
 first, last, and always. 
 
 Miss P. (With affected banter.) Now, Mr. Wickerwork, you 
 know you are not always so engrossed in business. I know you 
 sometimes shut out the prosy details of that horrid business, and 
 locking yourself within the recesses of your soul, have sweet 
 communings with your other self. 
 
 W. Miss Prune, I never was locked in anywhere in my life, 
 and as for my otlier self — ahem — well — really, fortune has not 
 smiled on me to that extent yet. Mademoiselle I am a bachelor, 
 as you are aware, but your angelic smile almost tempts me — what 
 the deuce am I saying ! I am devoted to the poultry business — 
 and to the advancement of liberal ideas ! (In his turn begins to 
 
4 WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 
 
 grow enthused.) Yes, after the mere bread and butter making of 
 this world that is the only noble aim in life {groiDS eloquent) to 
 enlarge the platform of human progress ; to expand ideas ; to in- 
 flate conceptions ; to disintegrate aggregations ; to— to— to, in 
 short, to — 
 
 Miss P. To swell— 
 
 W. No ! no ! Not to swell — to inflate conceptions, that's the 
 idea. In short, every platform in this world made for one ought 
 to be wide enough for two. Do you catch on ? 
 
 Miss P. The scintillations of your beautiful idea have daz- 
 zled my mental vision, but the winged shaft itself sped so quickly 
 over the kaleidoscopic mirage of crowding cognitions that I — 
 
 W. {Quickly). You've got it ! {Aside.) Got it bad too. 
 
 Miss P. As I said — 
 
 W. {Quickly, trying to stop her). Yes your, idea of it is per- 
 fectly clear. Now I tell you if there ever is a millenium it will 
 never come till everybody is liberal. We must all work for lib- 
 eral principles. We must advocate the incipiency of equality. 
 
 Miss P. And what is more liberal than literature. Compared 
 with that, the incipiency of equality, eventuates in infinitesimal 
 inconsequentiality. 
 
 W. {Aside). Good Lord, I'm paralyzed ! {To Miss P.) Row ^ 
 Which? Ah? 
 
 Miss P. Shall I repeat that statement ? 
 
 W. {Quickly, and icith deprecatory gesture.) Don't please, it's 
 quite clear. 
 
 Miss P. Literature is the utterings of the utter. 
 
 W. {Aside.) It's the too-tooness of the w^hich what. {To 
 Miss P.) That's perfectly clear. 
 
 Miss P. I've an effort here you would like to hear. {Pro- 
 duces enormo^is roll of Ms. tied with hlue rihhon.) It is entitled 
 " The Firstlings of Experience." 
 
 W. {Alarmed, tugs at his watch.) Really, that is too far back; 
 you'll have to begin with Adam. {Aside.) She'll bore me to 
 death. 
 
 Miss P. No ; I mean the firstlings of my own experience. 
 
 W. Altogether too ancient ! 
 
 Miss P. Sir ? 
 
 W. I beg pardon, Mf ss Prune. I didn't mean that. I meant 
 — hang it I didn't mean for you, but for people of mature years. 
 Literature has not yet marred the charms of your girlish grace 
 and beauty. 
 
 Miss P. Mr. Wickerwork, I fear you are a flatterer. 
 
 W. Not a bit of it, I mean it. 
 
 Miss P. Man is a deceiver ! 
 
 W. Yes, man in the abstract, but man in the concrete is, in 
 short, a necessity. 
 
 Miss P. {Smiles. Gets ready to read.) Yes, he is very conve- 
 nient to listen to essays. This is very short, only 30 pages of 
 fool's cap. 
 
 W. {Aside.) Good Lord ! Really, Miss Prune, I haven't time 
 
WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 5 
 
 (tugs at his icatch.) I must see Brush. There's a big shipment 
 of chickens to be made to-morrow, and I must look a little to the 
 patent hatcher I bought the other day. That's a grand scheme. 
 Can hatch 100 dozen chickens per week — spring chickens. Why, 
 we are going to start a chicken factory that will eclipse all crea- 
 tion. 
 
 Miss P. (Aside.) He'll bore me with that for the fiftieth 
 time. A chicken factory ? 
 
 _ W. Yes, a Q\\\<z\iQ\i factory. You literary people can't always 
 pick up us plain business men on a knotty point. I maintain it 
 is a f actorj^ for Webster says a factory is " a place appropriated 
 to the making of goods." Now you can't deny that chickens are 
 goods. All business men admit that. Now we propose to hatch 
 the chickens by hand. {Gomes down C.) 
 
 Miss P. By hand ! well do tell. I thought it was by steam. 
 
 TF. Exactly what I am doing. You see one machine will 
 hatch 100 dozens, ten machines will hatch 1,000 dozens, one thou- 
 sand machines will hatch one million dozens {enthusiastic.) It's 
 a grand scheme. It's my scheme. I bought the patent. Brush 
 doesn't know it yet. Brush is a good man for details, but he is 
 too practical and afraid to venture. 
 
 Miss P. Cousin Hiram is rather practical and so prosy. 
 
 W. Just so! Just so! We shall revolutionize the whole 
 chicken business. The time is coming when the old fashioned 
 chicken will be a curiosity. Hens will never think of sitting. 
 When a hawk is around the chicken of the future will slip into 
 an oven for safety, just as naturally as the politician of the pres- 
 ent slides his hand into the treasury. Yes sir'ee, Brush & Wick- 
 erwork's hatchery will pass into history as famous as George 
 Washington's hatchet. {Laughs.) Fine pun that, eh ? 
 
 3Iiss P. I declare you were destined for a literary man. Why 
 don't you devote yourself to literature ! 
 
 W. " Oh I'm devoted to the advancement of liberal ideas. I 
 shall foster the incipiency of equality ; make every platform 
 for one wide enough for two — then there is my fattening elixir 
 which will entirely dispense with corn.' That's a big thing. I 
 bought the patent. 
 
 Enter Fritz L. 
 
 Fritz. Meester Vickerverk, must I keep dot fire purnin' all 
 te night in dot shicken machine ? 
 
 TF. Yes, don't let it cool off, Fritz, or the chickens will get 
 chilled. 
 
 F. Ya ! I dink dem shickens have not colt. 
 
 Miss P. {Aside.) I'll draw this Dutchman out a little in my 
 character studies for my new book. {Gets note hook ready.) 
 Fritz do you like poetry ? 
 
 F. Boetry! Vas ishV7(9i?! 1st dot ine sausage? 
 
 Miss P. Pshaw no! I mean literature. 
 
 F. Oh yah ! I know vat you means. Dot literatare bin dem 
 little sticks of cake all twisted oop oond baked between grease. 
 
 Miss P. {Emphatically.) No, I don't mean dough nuts. 
 
(5 WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 
 
 F. Douqh nuts ! Veil py liimmel dot peats me. I dinks nuts 
 growed ouf dem trees. By sliiminy dot bin funny. {Laughs 
 an awkioard, broad laugh) 
 
 W. Miss Prune, you've floored Fritz this time. 
 
 F. Floored ! Vere ist dot vloor ? Mine f ater's geist vat a 
 speech dot Amerikanishe langwige bin. 
 
 Miss P. Mr. Kellar I will explain. Poetry is reading, rhyme, 
 songs. 
 
 F. Ach I fersthays now. Boetry ist dot place vere de lines 
 go: 
 
 " Ding — dong— ding 
 Ling— a— long— ling." 
 
 Miss P. {Eagerly.) Oh you do like it. I'll read you some. 
 
 W. {Jumps up. Aside) Well I'll be \ {Aloud.) I must 
 
 go. {Exit R.) 
 
 Miss P. How unappreciative Mr. Wickerwork is. And such a 
 kind man too. His soul has yet to taste the " Firstlings of Ex- 
 perience." {Suddenly.) Fritz did you know that your soul is 
 awakening to the first fruitions of the beautiful ? 
 
 F. {Alarmed.) Mine Gott ! Ist dot de golery ? 
 
 Miss P. The cholera! What a horrid idea. I know I shall 
 never be appreciated in this world. {Exit B.) 
 
 F. By colly dis ist de funniest gountry dot rolls round mit te 
 world. Dey make shickens in an ofen oond talk apout te soul 
 oond poetry oond dings. Vas ist dot sole? I petter know. 
 Somedings ist de matter mit mine. Dot gal was scart oond 
 mat. {Starts.) Meppe my coat or bants was dore somevere. 
 {Tries to look at the back of his coat. Feels the backs of his pants 
 from the knees up to the waist?) No, dey was all right. {Looks 
 puzzled) Vot in himmel is dot soul anytime ? 
 Enter Pump L. 
 
 Pump. Hello, sour kraut ! Wat's you tryin' to make o' your- 
 self ? Swallered anything sour ? 
 
 F. Ya! Dot's it. {Slaps his stomach.) Dot soul of dese 
 Americans bin into der shtomach. Vat a gweer blace. Dot 
 was funny. {Laughs broad laugh.) 
 
 P. I reckon dat's about de jography of some people's souls. 
 Say, Fritz, whah's a Dutchman's soul ? 
 
 F. Well, now, Meester Pump, to tell de honest troot I nefer 
 knowed I had one. 
 
 P. You know sour krout, don't you, Fritz ? 
 
 F. Efery time ! Say, Poomp, you have booty near got a 
 leetle too mooch— ach— too mooch. Vas ist dot? {Bubs his face.) 
 
 P. Whiskers? 
 
 F. Nine. Vat you calls dot ? {Bubs face.) 
 
 P. Face ? 
 
 F. Ach vat you call it ven a man got booty near too much of 
 it ? Sheek ! Dot's te wort. Poomp you booty near got a leetle 
 schtick too moocii sheek. {Shakes his head at Pump.) Oh, you'll 
 do. Dese AnKiikaners bin booty shmart for hash beoples 
 
WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 7 
 
 P. Hash people! {Laughs mgorously.) What de dickens you 
 tryin' to deliver yourself of, boss ? Say't agin. An idear is 
 drefful weak by the time it works outen a Dutchman's skull. 
 
 F. Dot's yoost like dis. Dem gals wat dakes de insides oond 
 de outsides off de shickens dey are Americans from Cork. You 
 bin an Amerikaner ouf Aferika, oond I bin Amerikaner ouf 
 Deutschland. 
 
 P. Ouf where? {Surprised.) 
 
 F. Deutschland ! {Ditsh-lant, long i Italian a.) 
 
 P. Dutchy, is dat country in de moon? 
 
 F. Nine ; dot bin not auf dem mont. Ach dese Americans 
 bin so ignorant. Deutschland bin Shermany, Kaiserland. 
 
 P. Yes, I knowed ole Kiser first rate ; he got six months in 
 jail for hookin' a shovel plow. Say, Fritz, where were you 
 born ? 
 
 F. Hohenteuf elsdrockendorf ! {Pronounce fast. Drill on this.) 
 
 P. {Starts.) Is dat in dis world ? 
 
 F. Ya ; dot bin in de Riesengebirgensheinenvalder moun- 
 tains. {Pronounce fast.) 
 
 P. {Fu7nbles in his pockets^ Hold on, Fritz ; I jes got a boss 
 receipt for lockjaw; I'll send down to the drug store right off 
 and git a gallon. 
 
 F. Lock jaw! {Gives his thigh a tremendous slap, seizes Pump 
 hy the hand and shakes it vigorously.) Say, Poomp, dot's a gapital 
 idea. Dot bin worth more as feenf oond tswansig tollars. Kat- 
 rina, my wife, yoost runs dot yaw from preakfast time in te 
 mornin' to twelf , two, o'clock next forenoon . I puys ine padlock 
 oond, padlocks it on dot yaw at ped time ; I puts de kej' in dem 
 bants pocket, oond puts dem pants oonter dot billow ; now dot 
 yaw won't go off, I pet a hoondert tollars. 
 
 P. 'Spose you hand over dat twenty-five dollars for de receipt. 
 
 F. Go away! I pays no pills cash or c. o. d. ; I pays a. s. 
 
 P. A. S.! Does dat'mean at sight? 
 
 F. Dot means after satisfaction. 
 
 P. {Sighs.) I shan't live to see dat $25. Fritz, did you send 
 dem turkeys up to the "Bold British Club" as I tole yer ? 
 
 F. I tid yoost like you told me. Dot Pully British Club or- 
 dered a half tozen dressed turkeys for ine bank quit. He wanted 
 dem turkeys tressed. Now I nefer see any turkeys' glothes 
 round here, so I yoost took your atwice. I shopped off teir hets 
 oond wrapped dem turkeys up in flags. 
 
 P. (Laughs.) It was a holiday you know. 
 
 F. Yoost so, oond you said efery ding would be dressed in 
 American golers, so I wrapped dem turkeys in American golers. 
 How was dot, Poomp ? 
 
 P. All right ! Won't de British Lion howl ? 
 
 Enter Brush and. Wickerioork L. 
 
 Brush. How is this boys ! Can't you find plenty to do ! {Exit 
 Pump suddenly^ R.) 
 
 F. Ya! I dinks so. 
 
 B. Then stir around 
 
8 WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 
 
 F. Stir vat round, Meester Brush ? 
 
 B. Stir yourself ! 
 
 F. (Staring.) Stir mineself . I can't shtir mine self. I was 
 not a kittle of noodle soup. 
 
 B. {Impatienely.) Oh get out ! G-o to work ! That's what I 
 mean. 
 
 F. Ohya! I fershtays! {Exit R.) 
 
 W. What do you think of the hatching machine, Brush ? 
 (.Both coming down C.) 
 
 B. I'm afraid it's not practical. 
 
 W. But it is. Been tried in China you know. I've a batch 
 doing now, getting along nicely. Just think, one machine 100 
 dozens, ten machines 1,000 dozens. And then I think the possi- 
 iDilities of science are infinite. Who knows but that an increase 
 of favorable conditions will shorten the time of hatching from 
 three weeks to one week. {Enthusiastic.) Aha ! I've a brilliant 
 idea ! Who knows but an electric current run through the egg 
 may produce the live chicken instantaneously like the image 
 pictured by the lightning's flash, one thousand dozens per secoiid! 
 
 B. {Drily.) Roasted, basted, and ready to serve. {W. sud- 
 denly pauses.) Wickerwork, don't be a fool. 
 
 W. Brush, this is a little too much even from you. You 
 haven't a spark of sentiment. 
 
 B. It isn't needed in the poultry business. When I took you 
 for a partner I knew you had notions ; in fact I thought you were 
 a sort of crank. Notions will do when business is slack. 
 
 W. Pooh I Brush, you are level on running a business, but 
 you are too practical. You are illiberal. You work for self. 
 You dream of the almighty dollar by night and squeeze the 
 eagle on the quarter all day. I'm working for humanity. If the 
 man who makes two blades of grass grow where only one blade 
 grew before is a benefactor why isn't he a greater benefactor 
 who makes two chickens grow where only one grew before ? Yes 
 sir your platform is wide enough for only one ; my platform is 
 always wide enough for two. 
 
 B. So you expect eventually to get a machine which will pro- 
 duce two chickens instantaneously from a single egg ? 
 
 W. Well, I confess I did not expect that just yet. I ^ shall 
 continue for a time at least to use one egg for each chicken. 
 But who knows what science may achieve ! What success have 
 you had on your trip ? 
 
 B. Splendid! {Seated by table and twrns leaves of order book.) 
 In the past ten days I have' bought half the poultry in the State 
 and contracted for over fifty tons of choice butter. 
 
 W. I forgot to tell you about the fattening elixir, I think. 
 
 B. Fattening elixir! What in heaven's name is that? 
 
 W. I regret that was not strictly speaking, a success. You see 
 a chap came along with a wagon selling the stuff. Now of course 
 if it was a good thing at all it was a good thing to control. So I 
 just bought his stock and the right for the whole Northwest 
 Got it cheap, dirt cheap. Paid him only $500 for five States and 
 
WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 9 
 
 enough of the stuff to last forever almost. You see the elixir is 
 a liquid to be mixed with dough. The chickens plump right up 
 on it. It saves corn, chopped meat, and all that nonsense. In a 
 little while the chickens would need practically nothing but 
 water and plenty of grav^el. 
 
 B. How did it work ! 
 
 W. I had Fritz try it on that lot of fifty choice Poland hens. 
 But as I said, the results were not what I hoped for. But then I 
 think the conditions were not favorable. 
 
 B. {Impatiently.) Well, how are the hens getting along ? 
 
 W. It did not seem to agree with them. In fact about forty 
 )f the lot died next day. I think the balance may pull through. 
 
 B. {Jumping up excitedly.) Poison! Five hundred dollars 
 paid for poison and my fifty Poland beauties all dead. Wicker- 
 work, do you intend to ruin us ? Are you a lunatic ? 
 
 W. No sir, I'm not. Think of the compensation in the profits 
 to be derived from the hatching machine. 
 
 B. I wish that hatching machine was — 
 
 W. There now, don't get excited. 
 
 Enter Fritz R. • 
 
 B. Fritz, how is that lot of poultry getting along that I told 
 you to fatten ? 
 
 F. -Dey bin gettin' along fery good. 
 
 B. Did you give them plenty of gravel as I told you '? 
 
 F. Ya ! I geef dem blenty of cravels oond vasser. 
 
 B. How does the corn hold out ? 
 
 F. I belt no corn out. 
 
 B, Stupidity ! What do you mean ? 
 
 F^ Vat you mean yourself ? 
 
 B. Is the corn nearly done ? Have you fed it all to 'the chick- 
 ens? 
 
 F. Nine ! Dot corn lasts like anytings. I yoost geef dem 
 shickens blenty of crafel oond vasser as you tolt me, oond not 
 much corns. 
 
 B. Confound it, you numskull, I told you to fatten the chick- 
 ens. 
 
 F. Oond geef dem plenty of cravel. 
 
 B. Hang it you blockhead, did you think chickens could fat 
 ten on gravel ? 
 
 F. Deir belts is not pooty pad. Dey shoomp round very 
 shpry like a feather. 
 
 B. So then there's nothing to hold them down, I suppose. 
 Get out you idiot, before I break your head. 
 
 F. Ya ! Dot's so. {B, turns to table and commences to open 
 some letters.) 
 
 Enter Pump L. 
 
 P. {Hands B. a note.) Mister Wickerwork, what have you 
 such a big fire under dat hatchin' machine fur ? 
 
 W. Fritz, aren't you watching that machine carefully ? 
 
10 WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 
 
 F. Dot machine runs itself. I yoost start one dunderin' big 
 fire oond away she goes. 
 
 W. But the eggs need care. 
 
 P. Dat's a fac. Dey need turnin' over to git done on both 
 sides. 
 
 W. What do you mean ? 
 
 P. As I was coming past I jes took an ^gg outen dat ma- 
 chine. It wasn't bad eatin' ; not cooked quite enough on one 
 side. 
 
 W. Confound you Fritz, you've roasted them. 
 
 F. 1st dot so ? 
 
 P. Dat's about it. 
 
 B. So this is the result of your hatching operations ? How 
 many eggs did you begin on ? 
 
 W. Only twenty dozen. 
 
 B. Charge them up to profit and loss. 
 
 W. It's bound to work. It works in China. 
 
 B. We're not doing business in China. 
 
 W. That's what you always say. I'll go and look to that mat- 
 ter myself. {Exit B.) 
 
 B. {Opens note.) What is this ? A note from the " Bold British 
 Club:" 
 
 Brittania Court, Nov. 9. 
 Messrs. Brush & Wickerwork. 
 
 Gentlemen:— ThQ very indifferent joke which you attempted to 
 play upon this Club was exceeded in bad taste only by its clumsy 
 execution. The six decapitated turkeys swathed in what you 
 are pleased to term the " Stars and stripes " arrived duly by ex- 
 press and were refused. Allow me to say, sir, that the sending 
 of the birds undressed and wrapped in such rags on this par- 
 ticular occasion was a gratuitous and contemptible insult "w^ich 
 true Britons know how to resent. Yours, 
 
 John Belter, 
 Secretary of the B. B. C. 
 
 What does this mean ? 
 
 F. Dot was an order for turkeys dressed. I yoost dressed 
 dem in der flags left over from de Fourth of July picnic. 
 
 B. What do you mean, you blockhead, by insulting my cus 
 tomers ? 
 
 F. De pold ploody Pritishers wanted dem turkeys dressed. 
 De flags was about de only glothes I could dress onto dem tur- 
 keys. 
 
 B. Pump, did you know anything about this ? 
 
 P. De packin' department's not in my line. I'm at de head 
 of de slaughterin' department. 
 
 B. {Angrily.) Well, Fritz, I think you are the most stupid, 
 wooden-headed Dutchman I ever saw. 
 
 F. What ist dot wooden-head ? 
 
 Enter Miss Prune L. 
 
 Miss P. How glad I am to see you home, Cousin Hiram. My 
 book is getting along nicely. 
 
WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 11 
 
 B. Botheration to your book ! If I ever leave the business 
 again in charge of Wickerwork and those other idiots may I be 
 suffocated. They've turned everything into Bedlam and we 
 should have to go into bankruptcy in a month. (To Fritz and 
 Pump.) Go to work at once. {Exeunt F. ami P. B.) 
 
 Miss P. You're in a bad humor, Hiram. 
 
 B. Don't I know it ? 
 
 Miss P. Let me read you something to soothe you. 
 
 B. Not much you won't. I've just been martyred by one 
 crank. I've no time for another. 
 
 Miss P. Oh Cousin Hiram ! 
 
 B. Oh Cousin Prune ! No thank you, not any poems to-day. 
 
 Miss P. (Going.) You've no sentiment. (Exit P.) 
 
 B. I'll get authority to start a private insane asylum. I have 
 splendid material around me for filling it. 
 Enter Cowley, L. 
 
 Fercl. How d'ye do, Mr. Brush ? * 
 
 B. Hello! Back again, Cowley. I thought we mutually 
 agreed some time ago that your attentions here were superfluous. 
 Satira is not in. 
 
 Ferd. Oh I did not expect to see her — that is— ahem — just 
 yet. 
 
 B. (Qruffly.) Then what yo you want ? 
 
 Ferd. 1 want to speak to you about 
 
 B. (Curtly.) It is useless, sir. 
 
 Ferd. But I wanted to explain that 
 
 B. Entirely unnecessary ! Shall I show you out ? 
 
 Ferd. I only wanted to say that so far as Satira is concerned 
 
 B. Young man, I am very busy. There's the door. (Motions 
 to door.) 
 
 Ferd. Really! (Going.) 
 
 B. Yes indeed. (Smiles.) Good day, sir. (Exit F. L.) The 
 idea of his wanting to marry. 
 
 * Enter Satira, R. 
 
 Satira. Ah, back again father ? 
 
 B. I'm needed pretty badly. 
 
 S. Haven't things gone right with you ? 
 
 B. Yes, all right on my trip, but all wrong at home. 
 
 S. I've kept things all right in the house, father. 
 
 B. Yes, you're a good girl, Satira. You're the only sensible 
 person here, apparently. Has Ferdinand Cowley been herp dur- 
 ing my absence ? 
 
 8. No ; I have not seen him. 
 
 B. I have forbidden him to come here any more. 
 
 8. Why pa, what do you mean by that ? 
 
 B. He wants to marry you, but he shan't. He's as poor as a 
 church mouse. 
 
 8. But father, he is honest, intelligent, and a splendid fellow. 
 
 B. Honest poverty is at a discount these days. You shan't see 
 him any more. (Exit B. R.) 
 
13 WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 
 
 8. (Alone.) Why should father be so harsh all of a sudden? 
 Dear Ferd ! 
 
 JSnter Pump L. 
 
 P. Miss Tlra, I done got a message for you. 
 
 8. For me ? What is it ? 
 
 P. It's from dat Mr. Cowley. He was here a minnit ago 
 and I seed him passin' de barn. Says he, Pump, sayshe,tellMiss 
 Tira I want to see her dreflul bad. 
 
 8. But what shall I do, Pump ? Father says Ferd shan't come 
 any more. 
 
 P. Dat's jes what I'm prepared to arrange. Miss Tira You 
 know Mr. Brush always goes out to oversee de packing of- de or- 
 ders for nex' day. He will be in de packin' house two hoars. 
 Then Mistah Cowley will call in de parlor, don't you see V 
 
 8. That is hardly right. Pump. 
 
 P. He says he has somefin drefful important to tell you. 
 
 8. {Hesitates a moment.) *Very well. Pump. Tell him I'll be 
 in the parlor at 8 o'clock. 
 
 P. Crackey ! Dat's only 'bout half an hour yit. We'll fix 
 dat. {Exit L.) 
 
 8. Pa must have finished his supper by this time. I must 
 
 fet Cousin Emeline and Mr. Wickerwork out of the way first. 
 '11 arrange that. Here she comes now. 
 Enter Miss P. R. 
 
 8. Cousin Emeline, you and Mr. Wickerwork are specially 
 invited to the Literary sociable, to-night at eight sharp. 
 
 Miss P. Thank you, if Mr. Wickerwork will go I should be 
 delighted. 
 
 8. The programme is very attractive. Don't miss it. Will 
 you go? 
 
 Miss P. Literature is the only thing that is noble and enno- 
 ;bling. I must go by all means. {Exit 8. R.) Stay, why should 
 I waste my time and tire my genius among that unappreciative 
 lot of giddy things. I'll not. Mr. Wickerwork aijd I can have 
 such a delightful visit all alone. 
 
 Enter Brush and Fritz L. 
 
 B. Oh you here Cousin Prune ? 
 
 Miss P. Yes, Hiram. How unkind you were awhile ago. 
 Now aren't you in a better humor, cousin dear ? 
 
 B. No, thank you. I'll not take any poetry just now. 
 
 Miss P. {Pettishly.) I wasn't thinking of poetry. {Exit R.) 
 Fritz, you've made a bad mess of things. Really it seems im- 
 possible to get an idea through your pate. 
 
 F. Pate ! Pate ! Vas ist dot ? 1st dot ine masheen ? 
 
 B. {Laughs.) Yes, and an uncommonly stupid one. Look 
 here Fritz, you have muscle ? 
 
 F. Ya ! Tswi muscles. {Holds up both arms.) 
 
 B. All right ! Listen ! There's a youg fellow comes round 
 here sometimes to see my daughter. I told him not to come. 
 
WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 13 
 
 If lie comes while I'm in the packing house carry him out to 
 the gate and tell him to travel. 
 
 F. Vich way moost he ciravel ? 
 
 B. No difference which way so he's lively about it. Don't 
 hurt him. 
 
 F. Ya, I handles eem like a paby yoost dis way. {Business of 
 carrying a baby.) Oh I dakes him so careful as one dree-year-olt 
 shpring shicken. I yoost doomp him ofer dot fence into dot 
 gutter yoost so. {Motion of throwing Brush over the fence.) 
 
 B. {Hastily.) No, you needn't demonstrate it "now. Keep 
 your eye peeled. 
 
 F. Mine Gott ! Peel mine eye ! 
 
 B. {Laughs) Lookout! 
 
 F. Py himmel ! I looked out one night watchin' dot wasser- 
 melon patch by dot gun till I got ine cough bigger as a grave- 
 yard. I 3'oost looks in to-night. 
 
 B. All right! Keep your bearings. {Exit B. L.) 
 
 F. {Musing^ 'paces stage.) Keep my parings ! vat was dot ? Oh 
 dis Americanische langwige bin ine schwindle. Instead of 
 havin' five or six worts for one ding dey have five or six dings 
 for one wort. Mine parings ! Vat in himmel is dot ? Now I got 
 him ! {Gives his thigh a tremendous slap.) Ven I pulls dem feath- 
 ers f one dem shickens I makes dem bare. So I takes deir par- 
 ings. I yoost dakes off mine coat, oond mine vest, oond mine 
 
 no I moost not dake so much bearings. I dake off mine 
 
 coat so. {Pulls off coat.) I rolls oop by dem sleeves so. {Bolls 
 up sleeves.) Now I got dem bearings oond I bin ready for dot 
 business. 
 
 Enter Miss P. B. 
 
 Miss P. {Screams.) I declare that man is mad. {About to 
 faint. Fritz grabs her in his arms.) 
 
 F. Vas you sick. Missus Prunes ? 
 
 Miss P. {Suddenly recovering gives him « vigorous push.) You 
 horrid man! Put on that coat ! {Fritz stands starring.) Put on 
 that coat I say ! {Stamjjs her foot. Fritz, excited, has no time to 
 unroll Ms shirt sleeves. Tries to get his coat on, but the sleeves 
 stick. She laughs. Practice this well.) 
 
 F. Now dot coat was on. 
 
 3Iiss P. {Disdainfully.) How prosy and commonplace the 
 Germans are ! No poetry in their souls. 
 
 F. {Hastily.) Please don't shpeak about dot boetry oond dot 
 soul. We'll shpeak apout someding else. Do you like sauer 
 
 Miss P. {Scornfully.) The idea ! 
 
 F. Nine ? Oond bock beer, oond limburger, sheese oond dem 
 goot dings? {SmacJis his lips.) 
 
 Miss P. How disgusting ! {Exit B.) 
 
 F. Now I yoost dakes dem parings again. {Takes off coat and 
 rolls icp sleeves.) 
 
14 WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 
 
 Enter Pump L. 
 
 P. {Aside) There's old sour crout. {To Fritz.) Fritz, you 
 ought to be in cle packin' house 'bout dis time 'cordin' to my no- 
 tion of i ography and flosofy. 
 
 F. {Makes a " snoot " at him.) I got a petter yob in dis parlor. 
 Mr. Prush told me to take my parings here. 
 
 P. Take what? 
 
 F. My parings ! I was on guard. {They come down C.) 
 
 P. Oh 'zactly so, I see ! 
 
 F. Say, Poomp, my throat bin awful dry. You yoost dake my 
 parings wile I gets fire, seeks eggs by dem kitchen to suck. 
 
 P. All right! {Exit F.B.) So de ole man is onto our little 
 plan, an' Germany is keepin' guard. I'll jes show folks dat de 
 African American's nuff sight better'n de Dutch American. 
 Less 'ee ! {Muses.) I'll try de police scheme and fix Ferd up in 
 dat old coat Cousin Joe used to wear onto de Metropolitan Police 
 down to Washington City. {Re-enter Fritz from kitchen R with 
 several raw eggs, puts one in each ptants^ pocket and proceeds to 
 suck one, turning his head far hack and evincing great relish.) 
 
 F. Ach, dot ist good ! {To Pump.) Have one ? ^ 
 
 P. No ; Americans don't like low foreign habits. 
 
 F. Americans ! Yoost wait till I bin in dis gountry tswi, tree, 
 four, shenerations oond I bin ine Amerikaner too. 
 
 P. You'll not be here that long till you'll be in the service. 
 
 F. Serfice ! Moost ine man go into dair army in dis gountry if 
 he don't want to ? 
 
 P. Oh it's not exactly the army. Native Americans are ex- 
 empt. Dey calls it de chain service. Dey sometimes put a ball 
 to a man's leg with a chain. Dey don't do dat wid de Dutch 
 kase dey don't know enough to run away. 
 
 F. What moost de men do ? 
 
 P. Shovel gravel on de street. 
 
 F. Ist dot all ? 
 
 P. Oh dah's plenty 'nough of dat. An Irishman serves one 
 year an' a Dutchman two. Dey's apt to call for you mos' any 
 time. {Exit L.) 
 
 F. Dot shain serfice ist a funny serfice. Vat a gountry dis 
 Amerika bin. Vat a grand humpug it all pin. Scratchin' cravel 
 by der shtreet. Ah I bin tired. {Drops into an easy chair.) I 
 yoost dakes my parings here. {Produces another egg and business 
 of sucking it with great gusto.) I won't go on dot shain serfice. 
 1 dells dem I got ine f row oond ten shilders down by New York. 
 Enter: Ferd L disguised as police officer. 
 
 Ferd. {Sternly.) Are you Fritz Kellar ? 
 
 F. Ya! Dot bin me. {Rises.) 
 
 Ferd. I am an American officer on the chain service. You 
 have been drafted into the service to-day and must report at 
 once. 
 
 F. Meester offitsier, I yoost can't go. Der serfice kills me 
 quick. I got ine dretf ul plumbago in mine back {business of 
 
WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 15 
 
 lame hack) ooncl I got night schweats oond de goloiy efery night, 
 oond dot left hip bin puckered all oop mit rheumatisms like a 
 shtick of tried peef. 
 
 Ferd. Come ! Come ! None of this shamming. I see nothing 
 the matter with that hip. (Slaps him 07i the hip and breaks egg 
 in pants' pocket.) 
 
 F. {Business of limping round stage, groans.) Oh! oh! how 
 dot hurts ! {Aside.) Proke dot Qgg I 
 
 Fevd. {Slaps him on the other thigh and breaks another egg.) 
 Come along I sa}^ ! 
 
 F. Dair tifel, how dot schmarts me ! {Aside.) Proke dot left 
 egg! {Ludicrous business of feeling his pockets for the broken egg 
 and trying to limp on both legs. Suddenly thinks of his wife.) Say 
 Meester, I yoost can't go by dot shain serfice. I got a wife oond 
 sixteen shilders by New York. 
 
 Ferd. (Laughs.) Oh come along. I've no time to waste 
 You're a good one. (Skqos Fritz on the shoulder.) 
 
 F. I was a goot one, eh ! Oond you sometimes slaps a goot 
 one on te shoulter, eh ? 
 
 Ferd. Sometimes ! Not always. 
 
 F. Well Meester, you was a goot one too may pe. (Gives Ferd 
 a tremendous slap on the shoulder.) Oh 3'ou was a goot one. 
 (Tries to thump Ferd again, latter evades him.) 
 
 Ferd. There ! That will do. Now come. 
 
 F. All right, I was comin'. Say Meester Offitsier, have you 
 any fire at dot recruitin' house ? 
 
 Ferd. (Going.) Plenty of it. We'll keep you warm enough, 
 
 F. (Aside.) Dem eggs was travelin' down mit my toes. If 
 fire is blenty I yoost gets baked into an omelet. (Exeunt L.) 
 
 Enter Miss P. R. 
 
 Miss P. At last that horrid Dutchman has gone. Why should 
 he be poking around in the sitting room ? Now I wonder if dear 
 Mr. Wickerwork will delay wasting his time with that dreadful 
 hatching machine ? (Sentimental.) Oh he's so noble and intel- 
 lectual. What a pity he did not engage in literary pursuits. 
 (Muses.) Perhaps if he had I should not have liked him half 
 so well. Love goes by contrast. I am literary and poetic ; he is 
 intellectual and liberal. He is willing to devote himself to the 
 good of mankind. And then he is so practical. What a sublime 
 conception that of hatching by electricity in a few seconds 
 chickens enough to feed a whole nation! I hear his steps. I 
 will pretend I did not expect him. (Seats herself on sofa with 
 her hack to L. Enter Ferd L.) 
 
 F'erd. I got rid of that Dutchman by leaving him in a coal of- 
 fice awaiting orders. It will not do for Mr. Brush to see so 
 much light in the parlor. I'll turn it down a little. (Turns 
 down light.) Oh there the dear girl is. (Seats Jiimself beside Miss 
 Prune.) Have you no welcome for me ? 
 
 Miss P. (Ln muffled voice.) I thought you had forgotten me. 
 
 Ferd. Forgotten you! Hovv^ could you think me so cruel? 
 
16 WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 
 
 {Fervidly.) No I'll never, never, forget you. my darling! {In Ms 
 excitement does not notice her voice.) 
 
 Miss P. Darling ! Dear fellow ! 
 
 Ferd. {Puts his arm round her.) My own dearest darling! 
 My lily, my birdie ! 
 
 Miss P. {Gushingly.) You have sentiment ! Oh I'm so glad 
 you have sentiment. I was afraid you were too practical. 
 {Drops her head on his shoulder still with face averted.) 
 
 Ferd. Oh I've sentiment enough, my little pixy wixy. My 
 dear little girl. 
 
 Miss P. Dear little girl. What a delicate sentiment ! 
 
 Ferd. And the truth, too. {Turns her head to kiss her.) 
 
 Miss P. Oh Mr. Wicker work ! 
 
 Ferd. {Bouncing up.) Miss Prune I Holy Moses ! 
 
 Miss P. Ferdinand Cowley I Sir, how dare you take such lib- 
 erties ? 
 
 Ferd. So you thought I was old Wickerwork ! ( With disgust.) 
 Ugh ! What a fool I've been. 
 
 Miss P. Oh dear ! I shall faint! 
 
 Ferd. Don't for Heaven's sake 1 I want to faint myself. 
 
 Miss P. Sir! Mr. Cowley, you are a brute. (Exit's hastily R.) 
 
 Ferd. And a fool besides ! Confound me, what a dunce I've 
 made of myself, hugging that old thing and nearly kissed her. 
 Pah! 
 
 Enter Pump hastily L. 
 
 Pump). Grolly, Mistah Cowley, you've got to git quick. Mis* 
 tah Brush is done comin' in dis way right off. 
 
 Ferd. Where is he ? 
 
 P. At de front door. Go de back way. {Exits L.) 
 
 F. Here's a fix. I'll hide in this room till the gale passes. 
 {Exit F. hastily B.) 
 
 Enter Satira L. 
 
 Satira. I wonder why Ferd doesn't come ? I've watched for 
 him till I'm tired. Dear me, why couldn't he be more prompt? 
 Pa is liable to come in any moment. Hark, I hear him now. 
 
 Enter W. L. 
 
 8. {Softly.) At last you've come. {Goes to side as if to look 
 off so that W. does not recognize her.) 
 
 W. Yes, my dear girl, I'm here. Did I keep you waiting? 
 
 8. Oh that's nothing. I am willing to wait for you. {Turns 
 toward table.) 
 
 W. {Approaching.) What a dear girl. 
 
 8. We must not be here long. {Turns up lamp. Screams.) 
 Oh Mr. Wickerwork ! 
 
 W. {Surprised.) The dickens ! Oho ! So you thought it was 
 some one else ? 
 
 S. {Imitating.) Oho ! So you thought it was some one else ? 
 
 W. I can guess who. 
 
 S. I can guess who. 
 
WIDE ENOUGPI FOR TWO. 17 
 
 W. Well we're both mistaken. (Laughs.) So you see Miss 
 Satira discretion is the better part of — of — 
 
 S. Common sense. 
 
 W. Just so. 
 
 S. Very well, say nothing and I'll not. (Aside.) I wish he 
 would go. He'll spoil everything. 
 
 W. Mum is the word. Now we will, if you please, change 
 the subject. 'Tira, you ought to read more, to keep yourself 
 informed regarding the advancement of the \^ orld, to have ideas, 
 in short, to be liberal. Is your platform wide enough for two ? 
 
 S. Yes, if I select the second. Mr. Wickerwork "let's talk of 
 something else. I don't understand politics, and progress, and 
 liberalism, and all that. (Aside.) I wish he'd go. 
 
 W. (Aside.) She shows no disposition to go. (To Satira.) 
 Now you ought to learn those things, they are necessary for 
 women, I assure you. I'll give you your first lesson now. (Begins 
 in eloquent sti/le.) In the beginiaing God created all men free and 
 equal. He never intended that one man should be the slave of 
 another, nor was it his divine plan that one man should be worth 
 a million while his neighbors toiled ten hours a day for bread 
 and water. 
 
 S. That is very true. No one denies it. 
 
 W. Oh but some do deny it. I could soon convince you of 
 that. (S. quietU/ slips out R unobserved.) But progress is irre- 
 sistible ; the world is bound to improve until the glorious doc- 
 trine of liberty, fraternity and equality (Enter 3Iiss P. B) sit 
 down together to enjoy the fruits of triumphant victory. 
 
 Miss P. I declare, Mr. Wickerworth, you are an orator. Oh 
 if you were only literary ! 
 
 W. Here at last are you! I thought you wanted to finish 
 writing that book before you came. 
 
 Miss P. How cruel you are. There's nothing cruel in litera. 
 ture. 
 
 W. Hang literature ! Let's talk of love. 
 
 Miss P. Oh Mr. Wickerwork I 
 
 W. I've had enough of business and of literature. (They are 
 seated on sofa.) As I look down the dim vista of the future- 
 
 Miss P. (Tapping him playfully.) That's poetical ! 
 
 W. No it isn't. It's business. As I look into aforesaid vista 
 I can picture a snug little home with domestic comforts. (Miss 
 P. sighs, W. starts.) Ah you're not indisposed are you Miss 
 Prune ? (Edges closer.) 
 
 Miss P. No, I am disposed to think favorably — no I don't 
 mean that. Oh dear ! 
 
 W. Exactly ! I understand. 
 
 3Iiss P. I was picturing an idyl. 
 
 W. An idol ! Are you an idolater ? 
 
 Miss P. No, I mean an idyl, a poem you know, like Mr. 
 Tennyson's. Mr. Wickerwork, have you ever thought what in- 
 fluence we literary people wield ? Why, there was a whole thou- 
 
18 WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 
 
 sand of mj' last book sold. Just think of one thousand mission- 
 aries all going forth on their mission to the world. 
 
 W. ATi right ! Never mind the missionaries. They suggest 
 collections. Miss Prune, whom do you suppose I pictured in 
 that little cottage ? 
 
 Miss P. {Goyly.) I never could guess. 
 
 W. {Aside.) VVickerwork you're in for it. I'll tell you. Ahem 
 — oh — it was a blooming young girl. 
 
 Miss P. {Withdraioing) Do you intend to insult me ? 
 
 W. Hang it all, I meant you. 
 
 Miss P. Oh, I ought to have recognized the picture at once. 
 Mr. Wickerwork, you know I'm wedded to literature. 
 
 W. And I'm wedded to business. {A%)ause.) What are you 
 thinking about. Miss Prune ? 
 
 Miss P. I was thinking we might both get divorces. 
 
 W. We'll do better than that. {Confidentially.) We'll com- 
 mit bigamy — of course in a literary sense. Is it settled ? 
 
 Miss P. Jacob! 
 
 W. Emeline! {W. is ahoutto clasp Miss P, in Ms arms when 
 enter suddenly L Fritz.) 
 
 Fritz. I vas to dake my pearings mit dot fellow. Shtop dot 
 puisness ! {Takes W. by the back of the neck and coat tails and 
 '"'■ snakes'' him out L, W. struggling and crying., let go., you mllain, 
 etc.) 
 
 Miss P. Oh what is the matter ! That dreadful Dutchman 
 will kill poor Jacob. B.Q\p\ ll%\i^\ {Tries to faint on, sofa. Re- 
 enter Fritz L.) 
 
 F. I don'd need no help. {Sits on sofa beside Miss P.) Vake 
 up ! Dot leetle show was ofer. 
 
 Miss P. {Jumping up.) You wicked man, what have you done 
 with Jacob V 
 
 F. He won't geef you no droubles any more. I wish I coot 
 see dot shain serfice man. I bin goin' to poolfrize dot feller like 
 one big shtick of sausage. {Rolls his hands as if pulverizing 
 something.) 
 
 Miss P. Are you mad '? 
 
 F. Ya ! I was dunderin' mat. 
 
 Enter Ferd R. 
 
 Ferd. 1 thought I heard a noise. Ah — 
 
 F. Dot shain man ! Say Meester you'll hear a noise bigger as 
 dunder. 
 
 Ferd. Dutchy, you're insolent. 
 
 F. Insolvent ! {Muses.) Vas ist dot ? Shpose I was insolvent ! 
 I can lick mit any man vat says he ist ine offitsier ven he ist not 
 ine offitsier. 
 
 Miss P. Please, Mr. Cowley, get him out. 
 
 Ferd. Come Fritz, let's make friends. 
 
 F. I makes not anydings. 
 
 Fe)'d. {Shoves him toward the door L.) Why don't you go ? 
 
 F. Vy don't you go mit yourself ? You was dot feller I was to 
 dake my pearings on. {Takes Ferd by the arm and leads him to- 
 
WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 19 
 
 ward the docyr L. while latter is mgorously pounding Fritz, mho 
 seems to relish it.) I'll give him a few parings. {Shoves Ferd to 
 the door Z, and give^ him a hick with the flat of his foot which sends 
 him flying.) Dot was shplendid fun. Meppe he don't work by 
 dair shain serfice any more. 
 
 Brush, Satira, W., and Piimi) enter L. 
 
 Brush. Fritz, that's right, throw him out! 
 
 8. Pa, it's a downright shame ! 
 
 W. And he dragged me out, too. Really, Brush, this is too 
 much. 
 
 B. All a mistake, AVickerwork. By the way, what were you 
 doing when he dragged j^ou out ? 
 
 iV. Ahem — well really — that's another matter. (Re-enter 
 Ferd.) 
 
 B. Now Mr. Cowley, will you please take your departure at 
 once, and never set foot in this house again ? 
 
 Ferd. No sir ! 
 
 B. What! 
 
 Ferd. I've something to say first. You wouldn't let me say 
 it awhile ago, but I will not be put off now. By the sudden de- 
 mise of my aunt I have now abundant means to start in busi- 
 ness. 
 
 B. Well, that sounds a little better. 
 
 Ferd. And Satira loves me Isn't that so, Tira 'f 
 
 S. {Taking place hij his side.) Yes, Ferd. 
 
 B. All right, we will talk it over. But how did you get in 
 here, anyway? 
 
 Fritz. Ach, dot Poomp ! 
 
 B. Oh, Pump ! I begin to see. An auxiliary, eh ? 
 
 P. I axes youh pardon, Mr. Brush, case I was workin' in a 
 good cause. 
 
 Fritz. {Aside.) Py shiminy ! I gets even mit dot African 
 American. {Galls Pump aside; L). Oh you was a goot one! 
 {Gives P. a tremendous thu7np. Laughs.) 
 
 P. What you about dah ? 
 
 F. {Gives him another thump.) You was a goot one 
 {Laughs) 
 
 P. Dat's enough. My neck's broken and my back's off de 
 hinges, an' half my ribs discommoded. 
 
 B. Fritz, what do 5^ou mean ? 
 
 Fritz. Oh in dis gountry, ven you sees a schmart feller, you 
 yoost shlaps him ouf te shoulter oond say he was a goot one. 
 Dot Mr. Cowley, he was a goot one. {Makes motion to thump 
 Ferd on the shoulder. Latter dodges.) 
 
 Ferd. I'll take your word for it, Fritz. 
 
 Miss P. {Pulling W. hy the sleeve.) Jacob, keep away from 
 that man ; he'll kill some one yet. 
 
 W. No danger my dear. He's harmless. 
 
 Ferd. Have we your consent, then, Mr. Brush ? 
 
 B. I think I'll say yes. 
 
20 WIDE ENOUGH FOR TWO. 
 
 W. Partner, I've decided on an important step. Miss Prune, 
 here, is about to become Mrs. Wickerwork. 
 
 B. Indeed ! Accept my congratulations. 
 
 W. {Eloquent.) Tliank you sir ! Thank you all! This occa- 
 sion is the only great one of my life. Matrimony is the next 
 thing to the millennium. It is better than any fattening elixir or 
 patent right. Matrimony is liberal; matrimony is progressive; 
 in short, matrimony is the only platform wide enough for 
 
 TWO. 
 
 SITUATIONS. 
 C 
 
 Brush, Satira, Ferd. 
 R L 
 
 Miss P., W. Fritz, Pump. 
 
THE ETHIOPIAN DRAMA. 
 
 Price, IS cts. each, post-paid. 
 
 These j)lays are all short, and very funny. Nothing- poor in the list. Thcj 
 serve admirably to g^ive variety to.a prog-ramme. The female characters may be 
 assumed by males in most cases. Where something- thoroug-hly comical, but 
 unobjectionable is wanted, they are just the thing-. 
 
 STAGE STRUCK DARKY. 
 
 A very funny " take-off" on trag-edy ; 2 male, i female. Time 10 minutes. 
 STOCKS UP— STOCKS DOWK. 
 
 2 males; a played-out author and his sympathizing friend ; very funny and full 
 of " business '^ and practical jokes. Time 10 minutes. 
 
 DEAF— IN A HORN. 
 
 2 males; negro musician and a deaf pupil. A very interesting- question sudden- 
 ly enables the latter to hear, full of first-class " business." Time S minutes. 
 
 HANDT ANDY, 
 
 3 males; master and servant. The old man is petulant and the servant makes 
 all sorts of ludicrous mistakes and misunderstands every order. Very lively in 
 action. Time 10 minutes. 
 
 TSE MISCHIEVOUS NIGGER. 
 
 A farce; 4 males, 2 females. Characters: The mischievous nigger, old man, 
 F'rench barber, Irishman, widow, nurse. Time 20 minujtes. 
 
 THE SHAM DOCTOR. 
 
 A negro farce; 4 males, 2 females. This is a tip-top farce. The "sham doctor" 
 can not fail to bring- down the house. Time 15 minutes. 
 
 NO CURE, NO PAY. 
 
 3 males, i female. Doctor Ipecac has a theory that excessive terror will cure 
 people who are deaf and dumb. His daughter's lover is mistaken for the patient 
 to the terror of all. Only one darky. A capital little piece for schools or parlor. 
 Time 10 minutes. 
 
 TRICKS. 
 
 5 males, 2 females. (Only two darkys, i male, i female.) A designing- old 
 step-father wishes to marry his step-daughter for her money. She and her lover 
 plan an elopement. The old man discovers it and has an ingenious counter-plot — 
 which fails completely, to his discomfiture. Time 10 minutes. Suited to parlor 
 performance. 
 
 HAUNTED HOUSE. 
 
 2 males. A white -washer encounters "spirits" in a house he has ag-reed to 
 white-wash. Plenty of business. Time 8 minutes. 
 
 THE TWO POMPEYS. 
 
 4 males. A challenge to a duel is worked up in a very iunny way. Time 
 8 minutes. 
 
 AN UNHAPPY PAIR, 
 
 3 males, and males for a band. Two hungry niggers strike the musician? 
 for a souare meal. Gooa for school or parlor, and very funny. Time 10 minutes. 
 
Any Play on this List I 5 Ct s, Postpaid. Catalogues Free. 
 
 Plays by T. S. DENISON. 
 
 ODDS WITH THE ENEMY. 
 
 A drama in five acts ; 7 male and 4 fc 
 
 male characters. Time, 2 hours. 
 
 SETH GREENBACK. 
 
 A drama in four acts ; 7 male and 3 fe- 
 male. Time, i hour 15 m. 
 
 INITIATING A GRANGER. 
 
 A ludicrous farce ; S male. Time, 25 m. 
 
 TWO GHOSTS IN WHITE. 
 
 A humorous farce based on boarding-- 
 school life ; 7 female characters. Time, 
 25 m. 
 
 THE ASSESSOR. 
 
 A humorous sketch; 3 male and 2 fe- 
 male. Time, 15 m. 
 
 BORROWING TROUBLE. 
 
 A ludicrous farce; 3 male and 5 fe- 
 male. Time, 30 m. 
 
 COUNTRY JUSTICE. 
 A very amusing- country law suit; 8 
 male characters. (May admit 14.) Time, 
 15 m. 
 
 THE PULL-BACK. 
 A laug-hable farce; 6 female. Time, 
 20 min. 
 
 HANS VON SMASH. 
 A roaring- farce in a prolog-ue and one 
 act; 4 male and 3 female. Time, 30 m. 
 
 OUR COUNTRY. 
 
 A patriotic drama in three parts. Re- 
 quires 9 male, 3 female, (Admits 9 male 
 11; female.) Four fine tableaux. Time, 
 about I hour. 
 
 THE SCHOOL MA'AM, 
 
 A briliant comedy in four acts; 6 male, 
 S female. Time, i hour 45 min. 
 
 THE lltlSH LINEN PEDDLER. 
 
 A lively farce ; 3 male, 3 female. Time, 
 45 m- 
 
 THE KANSAS IMMIGRANTS; Or, the 
 Great Exodus. 
 
 A roaring- farce; 5 male, i female. 
 Time, 30 m. 
 
 TOO MUCH OF A GOOD THING. 
 
 A splendid farce; 3 male, 6 female. 
 Time, 45 m. 
 
 IS THE EDITOR IN? 
 
 A farce; 4 male and 2 female. 
 
 AN ONLY DAUGHTER. 
 
 A drama in three acts; 5 male and 2 
 female. "" Time, i hour 15 m. 
 
 PETS OF SOCIETY. 
 
 A farce in high life; 7 females. Time, 
 30 m. 
 
 HARD CIDER. 
 
 A very amusing^ temperance sketch ; 4 
 male, 2 female. Time, 20 m. 
 
 LOUVA, THE PAUPER. 
 
 A drama in five acts; 9 male and 4 it- 
 male characters. Time, i hour 4$ m. 
 
 UNDER THE LAURELS. 
 
 A drama in five acts; a stirring- play, 
 fully equal to Louva the Pauper. Five 
 male, 4 female. Time, i hour 45 m. 
 
 THE SPARKLING CUP. 
 
 A temperance drama in five acts; 12 
 male and | female. 
 
 Plays by H. Elliott McBride. 
 
 ON THE BRINK. 
 
 A temperance drama in two acts; 12 
 male, 3 female. Time, i hour 45 m. 
 
 A BAD JOB. 
 
 A f\irce; 3 male, 2 female. Time, 30 m 
 
 PLAYED AND LOST. 
 
 A sketch; 3 male, 2 female. Tim 
 20 m. 
 
 MY JEREMIAH. 
 
 A farce ; 3 male, 2 female. Time, 25 i. 
 
 LUCY'S OLD MAN. 
 
 A sketch; 2 male, 3 female. Time, 20 
 m. 
 THE COW THAT KICKED CHICAGO. 
 
 A farce ; 3 male, 2 female. Time, 25 m. 
 
 I'LL STAY AWHILE. 
 
 A farce; 4 male. Time, 25 m. 
 
 THE FRIDAY AFTERNOON DIALOGUES, 
 
 Short and lively. For boys and g-irls. 
 — Pyice 26 cts. 
 
 FRIDAY AFTERNOON SPEAKER- 
 
 A choice collection. Three parts: for 
 little folks, for older boys and girls, short 
 pithy dialogues.— Pr/ce 26 cts. 
 
 SCRAP BOOK READINGS. 
 
 Latest and best pieces. — Price pet- No. 
 {paper cover) 26 cts, 
 
 WORK AND PLAY. 
 
 BV MARY J. jACqUES. 
 
 A gein for the little folks. This is a 
 book of both instruction and amusement. 
 Part I consists of a large variety of very 
 easy progressive exercises in letters, 
 numbers, objects, geography, language, 
 animated nature, motion, songs, etc. 
 Part II consists of dialogues, charades, 
 pantomimes, etc. all original. — Price, 
 in Manilla boards, post paid, 50 cts. 
 
 T. S. DENISON, Publisher, CHICAGO. 
 
 J