fe 4 
 
PS 1059 
 .B22 114 
 1887 
 
 ^' 
 
 Copyright. 1S76. 1)y Gkorqe M. Bakbb. 
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 \ 
 
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MESSMATES 
 
 a^ T>RAMA IN Three <tAcTs 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE M. BAKER 
 
 4 
 
 
 FEB 2^i|;^/ 
 
 -i 
 
 BOSTON: 
 

 Copyright, 1887, 
 By GEORGE M. BAKER. 
 
 Ai7 rights reserved. 
 
 Messmates. 
 
 RAND 6.VERY COMPANT, 
 
 BLBOTROTYPERS AND PRINTW18, 
 
 BOSTON. 
 
CHARACTERS. 
 
 Alvah Morgan, a speculator. 
 
 Richard Carter, owner of the " Seabright." 
 
 Nat. Taylor, captain of the " Seabright." 
 
 Teddy Morgan, a runaway. 
 
 Wolf, a stowaway. 
 
 Crumbs, the steward. 
 
 Grace Morgan, Alvah's daughter. 
 
 Polly Taylor, the captain's pet. 
 
 Arabella Caraway, Alvah's sister. 
 
 Phillis, Grace's maid. 
 
COSTUMES. 
 
 Alvak. Age fifty. Gray crop wig, short side whiskers, blue yachting 
 suit, — except on last entrance in second act, when he should appear in 
 trousers and shirt only, collar loose, the appearance of having hastily 
 arisen from bed. 
 
 Captain. Age fifty. Bald gray wig, full beard running from ear to ear 
 around the throat, chin and lip bare, face ruddy and good-natured ; blue 
 yachting coat with brass buttons ; cap, blue trousers, blue shirt. In first 
 act no kerchief, in others black kerchief and waistcoat. 
 
 Richard. Red hair, mustache and chin-beard, eye-glasses ; blue yacht- 
 ing suit, rather natty in appearance ; rapid in speech and gesture, but 
 very cool. 
 
 Teddy. Act I. Curly hair, sailor shirt with blue collar, white sailor 
 trousers, black kerchief, naval cap with " Seabright " in gilt letters on the 
 front. Acts II. and III. Change to blue shirt and trousers. 
 
 Wolf. Act I. Blue trousers, white sailor shirt with torn sleeve 
 showing bare right arm ; leathern belt ; red handkerchief or red cap on 
 head. Acts II. and III. Blue sailor trousers and shirt, black necker- 
 chief, gray wig, mustache and side whiskers all one piece, chin smooth. 
 
 Crumbs. White trousers, jacket, and apron; white naval cap with 
 " Seabright" in gilt letters ; darky face and wig. 
 
 Grace. Act I. Pretty yachting suit. Act II. Dark dress, with white 
 collar, cuffs, apron, and nurse's cap. Act III. Pretty summer suit, suit- 
 able for the tropical change of climate. 
 
 Polly. Yachting suit with dark straw hat, " Seabright " in gilt letters. 
 In Act II., for first entrance, pea-jacket, and imitation in black glazed 
 cloth of a " sou'wester " hat. Act III. Same as first. 
 
 Arabella. Act I. Rather plump figure, in summer costume, to suit 
 age, about forty ; not bad looking. In Act III. drop plumpness, but wear 
 same costume. A slightly gray curly wig, parted on side, or corkscrew 
 curls and red wig, at the pleasure of the performer. 
 
COSTUMES. 
 
 Phillis. Bright mulatto girl, with the faintest tinge of color, gold hoop 
 earrings, neat and tasty dress ; or, a coal-black negress, to suit the pleasure 
 of the performer, — the author's preference being for the former. In the 
 latter case, give the part the dialect used by " Crumbs." 
 
 Notes. 
 
 Act I. Wolf makes his first appearance from a " transom." This is a 
 long box, and may interfere with the central entrance, which should be 
 wide. Instead, a trap-door in c. of stage will serve, and where it is prac- 
 ticable is much to be preferred, as a stowaway would be likely to secrete 
 himself in the hold. Where both are in the way, or not convenient, use 
 the L. u. E. Another method is to have a " locker " or cupboard l. of c. 
 
 Act II. Wolf and Teddy should have change of costume for the 
 rescue, both to appear in trousers and shirt only. These should be dupli- 
 cated, and the suit worn on their re-appearance should be '' dripping " in 
 appearance, a spangling of isinglass helping the illusion. 
 
 In this act, the "roaring of the gale," the "wind whistling through the 
 rigging," and the motion of the vessel will all add interest to the storm- 
 scene. The " roaring " and " whistling " are produced by placing a hum- 
 ming-top on the spindle of a spinning-wheel ; slow and rapid revolu- 
 tions will produce imitations of whistling and roaring in a wonderful 
 manner. The "motion" may be made imaginary by the rolling and 
 pitching of the characters. 
 
MESSMATES. 
 A DRAMA IN THREE ACTS, 
 
 ACT I. — OUTWARD BOUND. 
 
 The action of the three acts is in the cabin of the yacht 
 " Seabright." 
 
 Scene. — c, in flat, the companion-way, with two steps. 
 From the upper step, entrances R. and L. Back of the 
 steps a marine picture on the wall, brass hand-rails R. 
 and L. of steps. Portieres over companion-way ; L. of 
 companion-way, ae:ainst flat, practicable transom covered 
 with red. Two doors on R., two on L., leading to state- 
 rooms, indicated as R. i and r. 2, L. i and l. 2, No. i ftearest 
 audience. Entrances R a?td l., frst e. ; swinging-laitips 
 r. and L. on flat. Table R., back, covered with a white cloth, 
 to show red cloth when removed. On table, breakfast dishes, 
 a half cut bone of ham, a plate of bread, easy chair R. of 
 table; L., halfway up stage, small table with chair beside 
 it, red cover on table. Crumbs discovered back of table 
 R.', picking up dishes and placing them on waiter. Phil- 
 Lis dusting at table l. Raise curtain with nautical music 
 « ^ Life on the Ocean Wave^' or any familiar air. 
 
 Crumbs {flourishing a pitcher). O Miss Phillis, Miss 
 Phillis ! it's jes' what ole Parson Johnson said, " Dis am a 
 hollow world." " Man cometh up like de sparrargrass, and 
 he goeth out like de hoppergrass." 
 
 " Life 'tis a strife, 'tis a bubble, 'tis a dream ; 
 And man he am a little boat a-fioatin' down dc stream." 
 
 And de fust ting he knows he strikes a snag, and dat leetle 
 boat am upsot, — and de man, de man, oh, whar am he?" 
 Phillis. Why, don't you know, Mr. Crumbs ? Jes' now 
 
6 MESSMATES. 
 
 he's pickin' up dishes in the cabin of the " Seabright," and 
 the snag that upset his little boat was jes' a little mite of a 
 mitten. 
 
 Crumbs. Oh ! dis am a whale ob tears, a honeycomb ob 
 bones. 
 
 Phillis. Honey! La, Mister Crumbs, you mean cata- 
 comb ? 
 
 Crumbs. O Sofy Sassafras ! de idol of dis aching heart, de 
 girl I lef behind me ! 
 
 Phillis. What, Sophie ! Is this the cause of all your 
 groaning ? 
 
 Crumbs. Ob course. Wa'n't we to be married las' night ? 
 Wa'n't de isters cooked, and de ice-cream friz, and de parson 
 dar, when de cap'n bust in like a cyclorama, and ordered me 
 aboard in half an hour, case we were off in an hour ? Didn't 
 de meeting break up in disgust ? didn't de bride tar her har ? 
 didn't ole Sassafras lif ' his boot ? and didn't de parson howl 
 for his fee .-* 
 
 Phillis. And within two hours you, a man I had never 
 seen before, told me I was the object of your adoration, and 
 offered me your heart and hand. 
 
 Crumbs. Dat's so. And you refused de balm ob conso- 
 lation axed for, — refused de faithful heart. 
 
 Phillis. That's forgette'n the "girl he left behind," in an 
 hour. Mr. Crumbs, I'm afraid your heart and your face are 
 of the same complexion, very black, and neither will suit me. 
 
 Crumbs. Well, you jes' wait until you find dar's no 
 chowder for — for de secon' table, dat de fishballs an' de 
 griddles am missin' when you get in to breakfas', dat dar's 
 no graby for de roas' beef, dat de turkey hab taken to hisself 
 wings and flowed away, den — den tink ob me. Ef I can't 
 touch your heart any oder way, I'll try what poor fare will do. 
 
 Phillis. That would be mean. 
 
 Crumbs. All's fair in lub. 
 
 Phillis. Oh, you don't frighten me ! I've only to com- 
 plain to my lady's father, Mr. Morgan. 
 
 Crumbs (comes down). Dat ole man ! Phillis, dar's some- 
 thin' wicked about him. I was in de cabin here las' night, 
 ebery body turned in, when dat ole man come creepin' out ob 
 his stateroom. Seemed to be walkin' in his sleep. He jes' 
 stood an' wrung his hands and groaned, — how he did groan ! 
 {Imitates as he speaks) 
 
MESSMATES. 7 
 
 Phillis. Worse than you did when your little boat was 
 upset ? 
 
 Crumbs. Don't fool. He jes' wrung his hands and groaned, 
 and muttered, " I've murdered him ! Why did he swim after 
 the boat ? How did he know I hab his gold ? he swam — he 
 swam — he swam, — and then he caught hold of de boat." 
 De ole man was doin' it all, Phillis, swimmin' jes' so, and 
 den he said, " I struck him wid de oar, and down he sunk, 
 down, down, down; " an' den de ole man groaned some more, 
 an' wrung his hands some more, an' crept off to his bunk. 
 I tell you, Phillis, somethin' drefful gwine to happen, you'd 
 better get somefin' to chng to when de trouble begins. You'd 
 better take me afore I make any oder engagement. 
 
 Phillis. Yes, to the next girl you meet; think I'll try 
 the poor fare first. You say you saw Mr. Morgan last night? 
 
 Crumbs. Sartain sure. 
 
 Phillis. He must have been dreaming. 
 
 Crumbs. He's got somethin' on his mind ; I've got a fel- 
 low feelin' for him, I know what it is to suffer; an' if you had 
 any feelin' for a fellow who's got a fellow feelin' for de ole 
 man — 
 
 Phillis. Oh, don't bother! I'm not in the market for 
 marrying. If I were, I should not be satisfied with Crumbs. 
 {ExU L.) 
 
 Crumbs {goes back to table). Nice girl dat Phillis; but 
 proud and haughty. Nebber mind, when we get out to sea 
 she'll be glad to hab somethin' to lean to, and den dis smitten 
 bosom will be in demand. ( With waiter piled with dishes^ 
 exit R. Jirst entrance.^ {Mtisic pianissimo. The cover of 
 locker is lifted^ and Wolf appears looking cautiously about.) 
 
 Wolf {stepping out). Ah, the coast is clear, at last ! Ten 
 mortal hours I've been cramped in that locker {stretches 
 himself). Oh, it's glorious to feel once more the free air, to 
 stretch my aching limbs. {Looks up companion-way.) She's 
 under way: I can hear the ripple of the water as her sharp 
 bow cleaves the waves. A snug craft this. We're off, and 
 the stowaway undiscovered. What is my next move ? lean- 
 not live in that box. {Shivers.) I need food : I'm as hungry as 
 a wolf. {Sees table.) Ah, the lovesick steward has not quite 
 cleared the table ; and, as I have a fellow feeling for unhappy 
 lovers, I'll finish the job for him. ( Takes ham andbreadfrom 
 plate and platter) I hate to steal ; let hunger bear the theft, 
 
8 MESSMATES. 
 
 I'll be its unwilling accomplice. {Places food in locker >i Off 
 for Bermuda. It's a long trip for a yacht, but she's a beauti- 
 ful sea-boat. Ah, visitors. Into your nest, you wolf. {Gets 
 into locker^ and stands with ha?td on lid, listening.^ 
 {Sofig outside.) 
 
 " A wet sheet and a flowing sea, 
 
 And a wind that follows fast, 
 And fills the wide and rustling sail, 
 
 And bends the gallant mast, 
 And bends the gallant mast, my boys, 
 
 Till like an eagle free, 
 Away our good ship flies, and leaves 
 
 Columbia on our lea," etc. 
 
 {During the song Teddy appears in companion-way, polish- 
 ing the hand-rails. Just as it coficludes, he steps into 
 cabin, and at the same /noment Wolf sinks into locker, 
 closing the lid.) 
 
 Teddy. So this is the cabin, the sacred retreat deck- 
 hands are forbidden to enter. {Sits on locker.) Jolly place, 
 of course, since every thing about is of the same order. 
 Oh, it's just gorgeous ! no more study, no more recitations, 
 but three weeks of solid fun on the jolly old wet ocean with 
 those tarry chaps of the fo'castle, whose voices are never so 
 musical as when on the high sea. I'm afraid my good old 
 dad will hardly agree with me when he finds I have slipped 
 my cable and left Harvard to mourn my loss. What's the 
 odds '^. I've learned, in my short nautical experience, that 
 " there's a sweet little cherub that sits up aloft to take care 
 of the life of poor Jack; " so I'll trust to luck for the recon- 
 ciliation which always comes to runaways who seek a life on 
 the ocean wave, and the famous calf that is forever fattening 
 for the prodigal's return. {Sings.) 
 
 " A wet sheet and a flowing sea." 
 
 {Enter Crumbs, r. i e.) 
 
 Crumbs. Avast dar. (Teddy rises.) Do you take dis 
 place for a conserbatory ob music .'' Ef de cap'n Avants to 
 get up a consort he 7nay send for you. What you doin' into 
 de cabin anyway 1 
 
 Teddy. I was sent to polish the hand-rails. 
 
 Crumbs {at table). Polish hand-rails ? well, I guess not. 
 Whar's de ham .? Whar's de bread 1 Ef you've done pol- 
 ishing dat ham-bone, I'll take it. 
 
MESSMATES. 9 
 
 Teddy. I've touched nothing. 
 
 Crumbs. Won't do, sailor man, won't do. I don't keer 
 if a man wants to make a hog of hisself filling up wid ham, 
 but when he bones ham, common politeness should teach 
 him to bring back de bone ob de ham he boned. 
 
 Teddy. Shut up. Do you want to bring the whole ship's 
 crew down here ? 
 
 Crumbs. Well, you jes bring back dat ham-bone, dat's 
 all I ax ob you. (Exz^ with platter and plate R. r e.) 
 
 Teddy. Our ebony steward seems to require a bit of 
 polishing himself. 
 
 {Song outside, Polly.) 
 
 " My Bonnie lies over the ocean, 
 My Bonnie lies over the sea ; 
 My Bonnie lies over the ocean, 
 Oh, bring back my Bonnie to me." 
 
 {Appears in cojnpanion-way.) 
 " Bring back, bring back, bring back my Bonnie to me, to me," etc. 
 
 Teddy. The captain's jolly little daughter. 
 
 Polly {ott stage). Anybody stirring ? 
 
 Teddy. No one but me: I'm at your service. Steward 
 just now wanted me to bring back his bone. I couldn't do 
 it, you know, but I might bring back your Bonnie for you if 
 you'd tell me where to look for her. 
 
 Polly. Ha, ha! Funny, ain't you? You're the green 
 hand. 
 
 Teddy. The green hand ? 
 
 Polly. Who shipped as an able seaman. The moment 
 I clapped my weather-eye on you — 
 
 Teddy. Beg pardon, which is your weather-eye ,'' 
 
 Polly. Ha, ha ! an able seaman you ! I don't believe 
 you know the main hatch from the gaff topsail. 
 
 Teddy. Oh, yes ; I do. The gaff topsail is the what- 
 you-may-call-it abaft the fore peak, and the main hatch, the 
 main hatch — 
 
 Polly. Well, the main hatch — 
 
 Teddy. Is where they keep the chickens, of course. 
 
 Polly. Ha, ha, ha ! you an able seaman ! You are an 
 impostor. 
 
 Teddy. And you the jolliest little sailor that ever climbed 
 
lO MESSMATES. 
 
 the foretop bobstay, or spliced the main brace in short stays. 
 How's that for nautics ? 
 
 Polly. Worse and worse : you are an impostor. 
 
 Teddy. With tears in my eyes I confess it. 
 
 Polly. Then, why are you here ? 
 
 Teddy. On a wager. 
 
 Polly. A wager ? Haven't I seen you at Cambridge ? 
 
 Teddy. Shouldn't wonder; I was at Harvard. We're 
 always on exhibition. Jolly place, Harvard. 
 
 Polly. I think I've noticed you passing my window. 
 
 Teddy. Have you, though ? Deuced kind of you to re- 
 member it. The fellows would be green with envy if they 
 knew it. 
 
 Polly. Well, the wager ? 
 
 Teddy. I made a wager with Cy Goodwin. Cy's a 
 soph : I'm a fresh, you see. 
 
 Polly. I see. 
 
 Teddy. Well, I made a wager with Cy, that I'd get a 
 formal introduction to you before he could ; and yesterday 
 I found out you were going on this cruise. Cy found it out 
 too; and, as he's a good yachtsman, he shipped for the 
 cruise. I couldn't let him get ahead of me in that way, so 
 I shipped too. 
 
 Polly. For the purpose of getting an introduction to 
 me. That was cool. 
 
 Teddy. Coolness is the one state of the collegiate ther- 
 mometer which the Harvard man diligently freezes to. 
 
 Polly. And how do you propose to win your wager ? 
 
 Teddy. If you'll kindly name some friend of yours on 
 board. 
 
 Polly. Oh, certainly ; there's my father, the captain. 
 
 Teddy. Capital idea. I'll ask him. 
 
 Polly. Do. Only let me know when the trouble begins. 
 
 Teddy. Trouble ? 
 
 Polly. Yes ; for when a common sailor asks such a favor 
 of his captain, he's likely to be strung up to the mainmast, 
 keel-hauled, or set adrift in a jolly-boat. 
 
 Teddy. Which wouldn't be jolly at all. We'll pass the 
 captain. 
 
 Polly. Then there's Mr. Alvah Morgan. 
 
 Teddy {aside). Great Scott ! my dad. 
 
 Polly. 
 
MESSMATES. II 
 
 Teddy {aside). My sister — 
 
 Polly. Mrs. Arabella Caraway — 
 
 Teddy. My aunt. — Do you mean to say those people are 
 on board .^ ^ 
 
 Polly. They are. Do you know them ? 
 
 Teddy. Oh, no {aside) ! I must disown the whole lot. 
 
 Polly. You might ask them. By the way, what is vour 
 name : ^ 
 
 Teddy. Tom Tucker. 
 
 Polly. I don't believe it. 
 
 Teddy. Miss Taylor ! on the word of a fresh — 
 
 Polly. A fresh who is trying to pass himself off for an 
 old salt. If you dare to ask anybody, I'll have you put in 
 irons for the rest of the voyage. There is a wide difference 
 between the cabin and the fo'castle, the captain's daughter 
 and a common sailor. Keep your distance. {Exit c, singing.) 
 " Bring back, bring back, bring back my Bonnie to me, to me." 
 
 Teddy {Watches her off. Enter Crumbs, takes off the 
 table-cloth while she is singing, then as her voice dies away 
 tn the distance sings, watching Teddy r. i e.) 
 
 "Bring back, bring back, bring back dat ham-bone to me, to me." 
 (Teddy shies his cap at him; exit Crumbs repeatinz.) 
 ^ Teddy {picking up cap). The situation is getting decidedly 
 mterestmg; I've run away into the bosom of my family. 
 They must have come on board after dark. Here's a pretty 
 how d'ye do. Well, impudence, befriend me. 
 
 {Enter Mrs. Ckka^nay from stateroom i r.) 
 Arabella. My good man, have you seen a ^reen — Good 
 from?" ' ^^^^^' '^^^^^ Morgan, where did you drop 
 
 '^f.^^^ (^f f S^^ff 'voice, hitching his trousers). Shiver 
 my imbers ! bang my top-lights, and keel-haul me, marm. 
 You ve spoke the wrong ship. 
 
 Arabella. Good gracious, what a likeness ' 
 
 Teddy Don't call me any landlubberly names ; I'm Tom 
 1 ucker of the arboard watch ahoy, a rattlin' reefer, a double- 
 decker, pickled m salt and soused in brine. 
 
 Captain {outside). Below there, Tom Tucker, ahoy ! On 
 deck, lively, lad, lively. ^ 
 
 Teddy. Ay, ay, sir ! — My sarvice to you, marm, I'm piped 
 
12 MESSMATES. 
 
 to quarters ; and when duty calls, Tom Tucker is on deck, 
 larboard, starboard, and amidships. {Exit 7ip companion- 
 way, sifiging.) 
 
 " A wet sheet and a flowing sea." 
 
 Arabella. Can I believe my own eyes .'' our Ted's nose, 
 the same mouth, that mischievous twinkle in his eyes. Tom 
 Tucker, indeed ! as if I shouldn't know my own nephew ! 
 {Enter Grace from stateroom i L.) 
 
 Grace. Well, aunt, how comes on the unpacking ? 
 
 Arabella. O Grace, I've had such a turn ! There's a 
 sea-monster on board this ship who's the image of our Teddy. 
 
 Grace. A sea-monster! not very complimentary to 
 Teddy. 
 
 Arabella. I believe it's the boy himself; and he's a 
 rattlin' reefer, and a double-decker, and he's going to shiver 
 all the timbers in the ship. 
 
 Grace. Teddy is safe in college, aunt. 
 
 Arabella. I'll believe it when I see him there. Now 
 you watch these sailors, especially one Tom Tucker, who's 
 pickled in salt and soused in brine. If he ain't Ted, I'm 
 crazy. 
 
 Grace. Only a resemblance. Aunt, Teddy is deep in 
 his studies ; I should as soon think of meeting Horace Gay- 
 lord here as brother Ted. Where's father ? 
 
 Arabella. I heard him moving in his stateroom just 
 now, and there, there's mine in such a mess. It will take 
 me a week to get to rights. {Exit to stateroom R. i.) 
 
 Grace {sits at table l.). This hasty departure, this sudden 
 fancy for a trip to Bermuda; this yacht, the property of 
 Richard Carter! No farewell message to Horace Gaylord: 
 what will he think of me ? I have long suspected that my 
 father did not favor the man I love ; but so kind and indul- 
 gent has he always been, I never looked for any strong 
 opposition. 
 
 {Enter Morgan from stateroom r. 2.) 
 
 Morgan. Ah, Grace ! come on deck. We are running 
 swiftly out of port, and you have only time for a parting 
 glance at the home we leave behind. 
 
 Grace. But why leave it ? Why are w^e going ? 
 
 Morgan. For your health, my girl. You have not been 
 looking well of late ; and when Richard Carter proposed this 
 
MESSMATES. 1 3 
 
 trip in his beautiful yacht, I eagerly seized the opportunity 
 to benefit you. 
 
 Grace. But why was I forbidden to communicate our 
 departure to Horace Gaylord ? Why this flitting in the night ? 
 Why this mystery ? 
 
 Morgan. It's more romantic. 
 
 Grace {rising), 'Tis a cruel wrong to an honorable man 
 who loves me, 'tis an attempt to favor the advances of another 
 whom I can never accept. 
 
 Morgan. Robert Carter is an honest man, who has ac- 
 quired wealth — 
 
 Grace. Ah, wealth! that is the loadstone that attracts 
 worldly fathers. The happiness of their children is a sec- 
 ondary consideration. 
 
 Morgan. You are bitter. Is it a crime to desire to see 
 my daughter well settled in life ? 
 
 Grace. You are not a poor man ; your wealth will abun- 
 dantly portion both Teddy and me. 
 
 Morgan. My wealth may vanish in a single day. Specu- 
 lation, by which I win and lose, is a mocking devil who lures 
 men to destruction over golden-paved roads, whose beds are 
 honeycombed with pitfalls. If you are wise you will listen 
 to Richard Carter, and let this struggling lover go. 
 
 Grace. Richard Carter's millions do not tempt me; I 
 have given my heart to the man who struggles, in whom 
 I have faith, that, true as steel, he will cut his way through 
 all obstacles, and win fame and fortune. 
 
 Morgan. I will never give my consent. 
 
 Grace. I think you will in time. 
 
 Morgan. No, no ! Far back in the record of my past 
 life there is an entry I would gladly erase, one bitter expe- 
 rience that haunts my sleep. Something in his face recalls it. 
 His voice makes me shudder, the touch of his hand chills 
 me. We must put him out of our lives. 
 
 Grace. Father! 
 
 Morgan. You cannot understand this. 'Tis not neces- 
 sary that you should. 'Tis my wish you should forget 
 him. 
 
 Grace. And you thought that separation would serve 
 your purpose. Do not deceive yourself. I love him with all 
 my heart. You are too good to make my life unhappy, too 
 just to wrong him, so I will wait for your better nature to do 
 
14 MESSMATES. 
 
 him justice ; if that fails, I have still my dear dead mother's 
 advice to comfort me. 
 
 Morgan. What was that ? 
 
 Grace. With her soft hand stroking my hair, and her 
 dear eyes full of love and tenderness looking into mine, she 
 said, *' When you have gained a good man's love, cherish it, 
 defend it; 'tis a woman's refuge in every trouble." And she 
 loved you, father. 
 
 Morgan. Heaven knows she did. {Aside.) And she 
 knew my story. 
 
 Captain {outside). Moping in the cabin, with this glo- 
 rious breeze on deck ? 
 
 {Enter Captain, c.) 
 
 Captain. How's this, how's this ? We've cleared the 
 point, set every inch of canvas ; and the " Seabright" is just 
 sHding through the water like the duck she is, and such a 
 beauty ! Man and boy I've sailed the sea for thirty years, 
 and never saw her equal. Ah, you rich chaps may well be 
 envied by the less fortunate, when money can set such skim- 
 mers of the sea afloat. Come, come on deck: you are losing 
 a grand sight. 
 
 Arabella {outside). Oh, save me, save me! {E?tters 
 from R., her face and hair wet, her arms moving as in the 
 act of swimming.) Stop the ship! Stop the ship, I'm 
 drowning ! The water's pouring into my stateroom ! Oh, 
 save my trunk ! 
 
 Captain. You've been tampering with the port-hole. Just 
 like a woman. 
 
 {Exit into stateroom, R. i.) 
 
 Arabella. O Alvah, why did you drag me from home ? 
 Do you want to see me drown before your eyes ? Have I 
 lived forty — thirty years to meet a watery grave ? Why 
 don't somebody get out the lifeboat ? We're all going to the 
 bottom. {Swims to companion-way, and is going up.) 
 
 Morgan {bringing her back). Tut, tut, there's no danger. 
 {Enter Captain, r. i.) 
 
 Captain. Not a bit. You opened the port as she was 
 heeling to starboard, and a shower-bath was the natural 
 consequence. 
 
 Arabella. What! ain't we sinking? 
 
 Captain. Bless you ! no, my ships never sink. 
 
 Arabella. Then I'll go back and hang up my wardrobe 
 
MESSMATES. 1 5 
 
 to dr}', but do keep her up straight, Captain. This heeh'ng 
 ■ is awful sickening. {Exit R. i.) 
 
 Morgan. So, Captain, you're one of the luckies. Never 
 lost a ship t 
 
 Captain. Never ; and only wrecked once. 
 
 Morgan. When was that. Captain.^ 
 
 Captain. Long ago, a matter of eighteen years. We 
 were running down from Melbourne to San Francisco, in 
 the " Vulture.'' 
 
 Morgan {agitated) The " Vulture " .? 
 
 Captain. One of the " Vultures." There are many afloat, 
 but she, poor old gal, went to the bottom. I was afore the 
 mast, and among my messmates was Jack Ober. 
 
 Morgan {agitated). Ah, the old name ! 
 
 Captain. Ah, poor old Jack ! he turned out a bad lot, but 
 we were cronies then. I remember sitting on the fo'castle 
 rail with him many a moonlight night, spinning yarns of 
 boyhood days. Poor old Jack ! we were that fond of each 
 other that we tattooed on our breasts, he on mine, I on his, 
 the picture of a vulture — like this. {Throws back his shirt, 
 showing picture. Morgan hastily fumbles with his as if to 
 conceal something) We were ten days out when, in the 
 middle watch, a cyclone struck us. Such a blow ! The con- 
 fusion was awful. The sea roaring over the ship, and bang- 
 ing against her sides, with concussions that made you think 
 of the breaking-up of the world, the gale howling through 
 the rigging like forty locomotive whistles in full blast, the 
 night black as ink, the captain and mate howling at the 
 top of their voices, and the ship on her beam-ends, and 
 leaking like a sieve ! We cut the boats adrift, and sought 
 safety in that boiling caldron. There was one gold-digger, 
 Martin Secor, who was returning with his little boy and a 
 belt full of gold. With this man and the little chap. Jack 
 and I left the ship in a cockle-shell of a boat. It was a 
 tough fight for life, but we won. When the storm Jbroke we 
 found ourselves abreast a small island, where we made a 
 landing. The little chap was nearly dead, but with careful 
 nursing we brought him round ; and for three days we strug- 
 gled for life on the few roots we dug from the soil. The 
 father grew wild with anxiety for his boy : he would run 
 along the shore, waving his money-belt heavy with gold, 
 shouting for help, and offering " gold, gold, for bread." On 
 
16 MESSMATES. 
 
 the fourth morning I awoke to find the boat, Martin Secor, 
 and my messmate Jack, gone. I was alone with the boy. 
 
 Morgan. The father had deserted his child. 
 
 Captain. Do you believe that.^ Would any thing tempt 
 me to desert my little Polly.? Would any thing tempt you to 
 desert your daughter? No, that's not the sort of timber 
 that daddies are made of. It was a crafty trick of Jack 
 Ober's. My messmate, whom I would have trusted with my 
 life, had murdered the father, and escaped with the gold. 
 
 Morgan {agitated). How did you learn this.? 
 
 Captain. I guessed it. I know nothing of the fate of 
 the father: I only know he loved his boy, and that Jack Ober 
 deserted me, his messmate. Put this and that together, and 
 think what you please. I have never seen Jack since; but 
 justice is perfect, and somewhere in this world or the next 
 we shall meet again, — for reckoning. 
 
 Grace. And the boy .? 
 
 Captain. That day we were taken off by a passing vessel. 
 I fell into a raging fever, and for weeks was dead to thought 
 and action. When I recovered I was in a hospital in San 
 Francisco, and the boy was gone on the ship that rescued 
 us. I could never find him. 
 
 Grace. Poor fellow ! 
 
 Carter {outside). Captain Taylor ahoy ! ahoy ! ahoy ! 
 {Appears coming down compajiio?i-way.) 
 
 Grace. Mr. Carter! I will not meet him. {Exit, l. i.) 
 
 Captain. Well, Mr. Carter, what's the matter .? 
 
 Carter. Will you overhaul your reckoning, and inform 
 me where we are } 
 
 Captain. Three miles east of the Big Brewster. 
 
 Carter. In deep water? 
 
 Captain. Very deep water. 
 
 Carter. Then if you will kindly order up a hammock, 
 load one end with shot, sew me up in it, and consign me to 
 the mighty deep, you will place me under obligations for the 
 rest of my existence, which, under the circumstances, must 
 necessarily be limited. 
 
 Captain. What misfortune has befallen you ? 
 
 Carter. The worst: I've met a brother. 
 
 Captain. Ah, some long-lost relative ? 
 
 Carter. No such good fortune. A brother of the 
 "Antique and Venerable Order of Disgruntled Growlers," 
 
MESSMATES. 1/ 
 
 Pacing the deck of my own gallant craft, I have been accosted 
 by one of your tarriest of tars, who, placing his left hand be- 
 hind his left ear, extends his right hand, and whispers " Divy." 
 He was a Growler. 
 
 Morgan. And you? 
 
 Carter. Oh, I'm his brother fast enough. I'm a 
 "Growler," — I've been Grand Custodian of the Candidates, 
 Grand Inspector of the Gridiron, Grand Keeper of the Goats, 
 Grand Chamberlain of the Chowder-Bowl, Great Grand Pan- 
 jowdah, grand every thing. 
 
 Captain. What is the object ? 
 
 Carter {spouting, with upraised hand). " The uplifting of 
 the order of society by bombastic explosion, and the rebuild- 
 ing from its shattered fragments a nobler system, which shall 
 extend to the remotest corners of the earth, and whose tow- 
 ering battlements shall pierce the heavens." Bosh ! 
 
 Morgan. Then, you don't believe in it. 
 
 Carter. Not much. Once I was its most devoted sub- 
 ject ; that was when I was a thirsty-throated son of the street- 
 corners. Then I knelt before its bucket of vermilion-dyed 
 liquid, typical of human gore, and swore to be a true Terrific 
 Disgruntled Growler until those vampires, the Jay Goulds, 
 the Vanderbilis, and all the aristocrats of we'alth, succumbed 
 to our invincible war-cry, " Divy." 
 
 Morgan. This was before your uncle died } 
 
 Carter. Yes; when my venerable relative, commonly 
 known as old miser Carter, shipped his cable, and sailed for 
 a new harbor, he left to me, his only relative, a black trunk, 
 packed with bonds of the X. Y. and Z. Railroad, stocks in 
 the Don Quixote mine, and titles to rivers of oil. I hadn't 
 the heart to growl, and no disposition to feel disgruntled, so 
 I quietly shook the Antique Order; but the Antiques did not 
 shake well. They wexe never such firm friends. They 
 gathered about me with extended hands, and the Antique 
 motto, " Divy," on their lips. I was invited to pour into their 
 treasury my legacy. I did not accept. I was entreated to 
 prove my principles. I quietly informed the special com- 
 mittee that I did not intend to disturb my principals, but to 
 hve upon my interests. Then they threatened me. Any 
 brother had power to slay me at sight without grace; there 
 was no escape but by compliance with the Antique rule, 
 " Divy." I thought, when I sailed off in my own boat, I had 
 
iS MESSMATES. 
 
 buried the past; but there rises before me a ghost in^ sailor 
 trousers who salutes me with the old story, " Divy. _ ho, 
 Captain, bring up your stoutest hammock, sew me up tight 
 and let me slide; the waters will "divy" to receive me, and 
 society will have one " Growler " less. ^ 
 
 Captain. Oh, no! we can't spare either you or the 
 shot. So come on deck, point out your "brother, and you 
 shall hear no more from him. {Exit, companion-way.) _ 
 
 Morgan. Ha! ha! Carter, your troubles are serious. 
 A millionnaire in deadly peril. I see but one way of escape 
 for you. 
 
 Carter. One is enough, I'll take it. 
 Morgan. You must marry, settle all your wealth upon 
 vour wife. You will then be a poor man, and free. 1 he 
 « Growlers " cannot make war upon a woman. Look about 
 vou; we've good material here. There's the captains 
 daughter, pretty, but young; my sister, well, a little over the 
 line" and my daughter, she might be induced to take pity on 
 a martyr. Ha! ha! ha! ha! look about you, Carter, look 
 
 about you. {Exit C-) , , . ,i ,„ ^i.^ 
 
 Carter. Egad, the old gentleman is worse than the 
 
 "brothers; " they would be satisfied with a fair division he 
 
 would /r^e me of the whole. It's not the first time he has 
 
 hinted that his daughter might be had for the asking Now s 
 
 my chance; she's beautiful and accomphshed, and would 
 
 make my ducats dance a merry measure. 
 
 {Enter Crumbs, r. i e.) 
 
 Crumbs {creeping towards Carter with his finger on his 
 
 lips). H'sh ! . u 
 
 Carter. What's the matter with you ? 
 
 Crumbs. Are we alone ? 
 
 Carter. Evidently. . • /^ 
 
 Crumbs. Sh ! ( Puts left hand behind ear, extends right, 
 and whispers hoarsely.) " Divy." 
 
 Carter. Another, and a black one ! 
 
 Crumbs. Sh ! {Aside) Dis chile don' lose any chances. 
 {Aloud.) Sh! {Creeps back and off v..) , , , , 
 
 Carter. " Oh for a lodge ! " oh, bother the lodge ! 
 
 {Etiter Grace, l.) , 
 
 Grace. If I could only get this letter into the pilot s 
 hands without my father's knowledge. Ah Mr. Carter 
 
 Carter. Miss Morgan, when an individual, neithei hand- 
 
MESSMATES. 1 9 
 
 some in person nor agreeable in manner, but burdened with 
 riches, finds himself irresistibly attracted to a lady who is 
 quite the opposite, and has her father's sanction, what course 
 should he pursue ? 
 
 Grace {aside). The farce begins. {Aloud.) I hardly 
 feel competent to give advice in such a case ; but were you 
 the individual and I the lady, I would have you say, " Madam, 
 you are my guest, and during my stay you shall be treated 
 with all respect." 
 
 Carter. You shall be treated as a queen. Can you 
 doubt it ? 
 
 Grace. Then I should say, " I have been hurried from 
 my home, leaving behind one whom I dearly love." 
 
 Carter. Ah ! believe me, I did not know of this. 
 
 Grace. One to whom I am engaged, who is to me the 
 noblest of men; I have left him with no token, no — oh, 
 Mr. Carter ! I am in sore distress, I want a friend, a 
 brother ! 
 
 Carter. A — a br — br — brother. {Aside.) Can she 
 be a " Growler " ? 
 
 Grace. Here is a note I have written. If it could be 
 placed in the hands of the pilot. 
 
 Carter {takes letter). It shall be. {Reads address.) 
 "Horace Gaylord," the young chap I met at your house } 
 
 Grace. The same. 
 
 Carter. Why, he's the prince of good fellows. A per- 
 fect smooth-faced brick. You have asked me to be a brother. 
 I thought I hated that word, but you have given it a new 
 sound, and I'll serve you with my whole heart. 
 
 Grace. Oh, thank you ! you are a true knight cut from 
 the antique. 
 
 Carter {aside). I wish I was cut from them. {Aloud.) 
 I have no time to lose, the pilot must be leaving the yacht. 
 For you and for your love command me, — heart, soul, and 
 uncle Carter's money. {Aside.) So closes one of Alvah 
 Morgan's three ways of escape. {Exit c.) 
 
 Grace. I think I have thwarted my father's matrimonial 
 scheme in that direction. 
 
 (£"«/^r Arabella, r. i.) 
 
 Arabella. Come, Grace, help me on deck ; I shall stifle 
 in this place. Of all the outrageous pranks your father has 
 cut up, this beats all. Every roll of the ship sets my heart 
 
20 MESSMATES. 
 
 a-palpitating, every pitch sends me on my knees ; IVe 
 bumped my head, rasped my knees, and lost my temper. 
 
 Grace. Oh, you will make an excellent sailor, aunt, and 
 learn to love the water. 
 
 Arabella. I always did hate it ; and I know I shall be 
 drowned. . 
 
 Grace. Come on deck, and all your fears will vanish. 
 
 Arabella. Hold me tight. If I get another fall. Til 
 crawl into my berth, and never get out again. 
 
 (Grace takes her ann, and they go up companion-way^ 
 
 Arabella. Oh, how her timbers do shiver ! Poor thing ! 
 {Exeunt c.) 
 
 (Wolf staggers from locker.) 
 
 Wolf. Oh, my head ! my head ! I'd rather face the foul 
 fiend, or throw myself into the sea, than endure another 
 hour's torture in that trap. We must be fairly out to sea. 
 {Goes to co7npanion-way, and listens.) No, I hear the pilot's 
 voice still' What's to be done? If I am found, they will 
 send me ashore with the pilot. Ah, not that, not that ! The 
 hungry wolf in his hiding-place has sharp ears, and your 
 secrets, my masters, are in his keeping. As you deal with 
 him, so shall it be with you, — justice for justice. Ah, some 
 one comes; I cannot go back ; I will seek safety elsewhere, 
 and trust to chance. {Exit into state room r. i. Grace 
 and Arabella return.) 
 
 Arabella {speaking as she descends). It's no use, Grace ; 
 that last tumble just upset me. I thought I was going 
 straight to David Jones's lockup. 
 
 Grace. Oh, you promise to become a first-rate sailor. 
 
 Arabella. I'm going straight to bed, and stay there. 
 {Exit R. I.) 
 
 Grace. I saw the pilot take the letter. 
 
 Arabella {sc'reams). A man ! a man ! {Enters) O 
 Grace, there's a great horrid sailor under my bunk. 
 
 Grace. Nonsense, aunt. 
 
 Arabella. I saw him. Help ! help ! help ! 
 {Enter Carter, c.) 
 
 Carter. What's wrong ? 
 
 Arabella. A man in my room. A great, horrid, live 
 man ! 
 
 Carter. Ah! I'll have him out. {Exit r. i.) Ah, you 
 rascal ! 
 
MESSMATES. 21 
 
 Wolf {inside). Let go my throat. 
 
 Carter. Come out, come out. 
 
 Wolf. Off, off, I say ! 
 {Enter Wolf and Carter, struggling. Carter throws 
 him down c, and stands over him. 
 
 Carter. Now, who are you ? 
 
 Wolf. Well, call me Wolf. 
 
 Carter. What do you want here ? 
 
 Wolf {raising himself, and extending his hand) " Divy." 
 
 Carter. Confound it ! (Goes R.) The sea is full of 
 them. (Wolf rises and stands l. Enter Captain, c.) 
 
 Captain. Ah, a stowaway ! we'll make short work of you, 
 my man. On deck, and into the pilot-boat, quick. {Enter 
 Morgan, c. Starts at sight of Wolf. Goes r. Grace 
 goes to him, and talks with him. Arabella sits in chair L.) 
 
 Carter. That's right, captain ; put him ashore. 
 
 Captain. Come on deck, my man. 
 
 Wolf. Say, Captain, don't be hard on a poor chap. My 
 ship's in Bermuda. I'll work my passage, only give me a 
 chance. 
 
 Carter. Put him ashore. 
 
 Wolf {reproachfully^. Brother ! 
 
 Carter. Oh, bother ! 
 
 Captain. You must go. 
 
 Wolf {goes up c. and turns. C apt Aiti goes l.). You're 
 rough on an old salt ; but it's the way of the ocean. You 
 wouldn't have found me here if I hadn't been cheated by 
 sailors. I had gold, heaps and heaps, but I was robbed, — 
 robbed by messmates, — robbed of my hard-won gold, robbed 
 of my boy. 
 
 Captain. Robbed.^ When? Where? 
 
 Wolf. In the Pacific, eighteen years ago. 
 
 / loRGAN. Ah ! I thought I knew that face. 
 
 Wolf {fiercely). You knew it ? 
 
 Morgan. No, no, I am mistaken. 
 
 Captain. Wrecked and robbed in the Pacific! What 
 ship, messmate ? 
 
 Wolf. The " Vulture." 
 
 Captain. The " Vulture." Yourname? 
 
 Wolf. Oh, I've a dozen. 'Tis Wolf here ; 'twas Mar- 
 tin Secor there. 
 
 Morgan. 'Tis he. {Sinks into chair.) 
 
 I 
 
22 MESSMATES. 
 
 Captain. Martin Secor ! 
 Carter. Put him ashore, captain. 
 
 CARTER ■ I'layTes. I am the owner of this craft 
 
 CAPxIfN. An^I her captain. 'Tis the law of the sea 
 
 that the captain rules, and all obey, even the owner (G«. 
 
 ^r T'll not .^o back on an old messmate with whom 1 ve 
 
 si^iled and1tf.^ed"V>^.to WOLF'S hand.) Martm Secor 
 
 sails with us. 
 
 Picture. 
 
 llpTt?A^J^tt in'-Jha^rX^c. .m Her Hand on 
 her shoulder. 
 
ACT II. — IN MID-OCEAN. 
 
 Cabiti at night. Lamps lighted. Captain seated at table l. 
 Morgan seated r. Crumbs standing c. 
 
 Captain. So, you rascal, you've been putting Phillis on 
 short allowance. 
 
 Crumbs. What, I, cap'n, I ? Why, bress your soul, dat 
 ar' gal am a regular hipperpotanuse, she'd debour a whale ef 
 de oben was large 'nu£f to cook it. Her appetite am like de 
 widow Cruise's oil, it nebber gibes out. Ef she could hab 
 a free pass fro' de bill ob fare, dar'd be noffin' fur de fust 
 table. Oh, she — she's — 
 
 Captain. A nice girl, and shall have all she wants. So 
 change your tactics, or we shall quarrel. 
 
 Crumbs. Tactics ? don't know dat dish. Got hard tack — 
 
 Captain. You know what I mean. Better fare and more 
 of it. 
 
 Crumbs. Say, cap'n, were you eber in lub? 
 
 Captain. What's that to do with eating ? 
 
 Crumbs. Oh, heaps. Ef you eber felt de tender passion, 
 your experience must hab taught you dis, — de greater de 
 strain on de digestive organs, de more de functions ob de 
 heart am brought in play, causing de enlargement ob dat 
 organ, an' de consequential outpouring ob affection. 
 
 Captain. Nonsense ! 
 
 Crumbs. Dat's so ; but don't de poet say — 
 
 • " A leetle nonsense now and den 
 
 Am relished by de wisest men." 
 
 Fur instance, you take your bes' girl out fur de prominade ; 
 de ebenin' am profishus, de air am sweet and balmy, the stars 
 am shinin' lub, and you meander in bliss. But, jus' dar, de 
 light from de ice-cream saloon obscures your path, de fair 
 objec' ob your affection hangs heaby on your arm and feels 
 faint. You take de hint and de girl in, and you order de 
 frozen sweets, and she is happy wid dem, and forgets de 
 odder sweet dat pays de bill. But if when you see dat light 
 
 23 
 
24 MESSMATES. 
 
 you shoot by, takin' de girl widoiit de hint, dar's no conflictin' 
 element to disturb de harmony, an' you sabes your money. 
 
 Captain. Are you in love with Phillis ? 
 
 Crumbs. Oh, don't I lub dat girl ! 
 
 Captain. You Turk ! you were to have been married on 
 the night we sailed, to another. 
 
 Crumbs. Why, dat was a week ago, cap'n. Don't de 
 poet say — 
 
 *"Tis absence makes de heart grow fonder" 
 
 ob somebody else. I'se only jes' train' Phillis down to de 
 lovin' point, dat's all. 
 
 Captain. Now stop it, or I'll train you with a diet of 
 rope's end. Now go. 
 
 Crumbs. Ay, ay, sir ! {Goes r. aside.) Dat settles it. 
 Thus ends my dream ob lub. {Exit R. i E.) 
 
 Captain. The rascal ! I hate to be deceived. 
 
 Morgan. And yet you trust this stov^away " Wolf." 
 
 Captain, Martin Secor! Yes. 
 
 Morgan. He's no more Martin Secor than I am. Just 
 think of it, captain. The man was concealed somewhere about 
 the cabin; he could easily have heard the story of the ship- 
 wreck as you told it the clay we sailed. Nothing easier than 
 to assume the character. He can tell the story glibly as far 
 as you told it. Beyond that he knows nothing. 
 
 Captain. Poor fellow, the thought of it makes him wild. 
 You know that since that night he has been in his stateroom 
 most of the time, sick. 
 
 Morgan. In your stateroom, which you gave up to him. 
 Why not send him among the men, where he belongs ? 
 
 Captain. An old messmate ! I had not the heart to do 
 it. Possibly you may be right in your suspicions ; but,^ some- 
 how, I have faith in Martin Secor. 
 
 Morgan. Depend upon it, he is an impostor. 
 
 Captain {rising). He is doing no harm here. 
 
 Morgan. He' is a dangerous character, and I wish we 
 were well rid of him. Can't he be put ashore somewhere ? 
 
 Captain. Possibly, but not while I command here. I 
 have said he shall sail with us, and I always keep my word. 
 {Exit c.) 
 
 Morgan {7'ises, and cotnes r.). Blind confidence. The 
 presence of that man terrifies me : if he is Martin Secor, he 
 
MESSMATES. 25 
 
 should be at the bottom of the sea. (Wolf slips m from 
 door \.. 2, and sits L., with arms folded.^ If he is not, he 
 knows nothing that should cause alarm; and yet I fear him. 
 
 Wolf. " Martin Secor sails with us." The captain is 
 true blue. 
 
 Morgan {turns). You here ? 
 
 Wolf. Yes, to confound you; you, the man of wealth, 
 tortured with doubts and fears. Ho ! ho ! your pleasure trip 
 is not all sunshine and gentle breezes. Cabin walls are thin, 
 and listeners may hear both good and evil reports. Stanch 
 and true the man of the sea, bitter and fierce the man of. the 
 world. Should I tell what I know — 
 
 Morgan. What do you know ? 
 
 Wolf. What I would not tell before that faithful soul 
 who so dearly prized an unworthy messmate. With you 'tis 
 different. You doubt me. {Rises.) Listen. When Jack 
 Ober snatched my money-belt and took to the boat, I followed ; 
 too late to seize him ere he had embarked, maddened with 
 the loss of my money, I sprang into the sea, and swam after 
 the boat. 'Twas a hard pull, but I overtook him, seized the 
 gunwale, and would have lifted myself into the boat ; but with 
 an oath the fiend raised an oar, and struck me. I lost my 
 hold, and sunk. 
 
 Morgan {aside). 'Tis he. {Sinks into chair K. Aloud) 
 Well, go on. 
 
 Wolf. No; I've said enough, you doubt me no longer. 
 I live only to meet Jack Ober to bring him to bay. When 
 that time comes, he shall confess his crime. Of my past I 
 have nothing to be ashamed. You would breed trouble be- 
 tween that heart of oak and the messmate he would befriend. 
 You have an uneasy conscience that feeds on suspicion. 
 Cover your record well, lest accident or design betray the 
 secret of your life. Remember this, amid your doubts and 
 fears : as truly as you are Alvah Morgan, I am Martin Secor 
 of Melbourne. {Exit L. 2.) 
 
 Morgan. And still I doubt. The blow was sure, the 
 man sunk like lead, sunk to his death ; else why this sicken- 
 ing feeling of guilt in spite of his story 1 {Rises.) Why, in 
 the night, do I still wake in terror to see those pleading eyes 
 fastened upon me .-^ This man knows too much. He'is in- 
 deed dangerous. Oh, if I could but blot out that bloody 
 record ? {Siiiks into chair.) 
 
26 MESSMATES. 
 
 {Enter Grace l. i.) 
 
 Grace. Why, father, are you ill ? 
 
 Morgan. No, no ! I'm not so good a sailor as I was, and 
 the motion of the vessel troubles me. 'Twill soon wear off. 
 
 Grace. Have you been alone ? I thought I heard voices. 
 
 Morgan {agitated). What did you hear ? 
 
 Grace. Only a murmur. Who was with you } 
 
 Morgan. Martin Secor. 
 
 Grace. Who is Martin Secor, father ? 
 
 Morgan. An old friend of the captain. 
 
 Grace. Have I ever met him before? 
 
 Morgan. Not to my knowledge. Why.' 
 
 Grace. He acts so strangely. On deck he avoids me, 
 when I speak to him, he looks out to sea, mutters, and turns 
 away ; but often I've seen him standing leaning against the 
 foremast, with his eyes fixed upon my face, and once as I 
 passed him, in the companion-way, he seized my hand and 
 pressed it to his lips. 
 
 Morgan. Did he dare ? 
 
 Grace. He acts very strangely. 
 
 Morgan {tapping his forehead). Not quite right here. 
 Avoid him. 
 
 Grace. Poor old fellow. There's something on his mind 
 that worries him. I hope he has committed no crime; that 
 his conscience is — 
 
 Morgan. How speeds Carter's suit? 
 
 Grace. With Polly Taylor ? 
 
 Morgan. With Polly! I don't understand. 
 
 Grace. Mr. Carter told me you had pointed out to him 
 three ways of escape from some deadly peril, the first of 
 which was marriage with Polly. I think he is trying that. 
 
 Morgan. The donkey ! Didn't I also tell him you might 
 be had for the asking? 
 
 Grace. Did you, indeed? how very kind! He knew 
 better than to ask, after he found that I was engaged. 
 
 Morgan. Who told him that? 
 
 Grace. Ha, ha ! my father's child. 
 
 Morgan. My father's child is a fool. 
 
 Grace. Ha, ha ! father — 
 
 Morgan. Don't be absurd. Richard Carter is a prize 
 well worth any woman's winning. 
 
 Grace. That's what I told Polly. 
 
MESSMATES. 2/ 
 
 Morgan. Oh, bother Polly ! 
 
 Grace. I think he will. She does not appear to be sen- 
 sible of his intrinsic market value. 
 
 Morgan. This cruise was arranged purposely to bring 
 you together. 
 
 Grace. Indeed ! I thought it was to benefit my health. 
 
 Morgan. I know he admires you. Smile upon him, and 
 you will bring him and his millions to your feet. 
 
 Grace. And break another man's heart. Thank you, no. 
 Don't worry about me, father; Mr. Carter and I are the best 
 of friends, and quite agreed, that, to use his own words, 
 Horace Gaylord is the prince of good fellows. 
 
 Morgan. Prince of humbugs ! I've no patience with you. 
 Not a penny of my money goes to enrich him, remember 
 that. I'll leave it all to charity. 
 
 Grace. As " charity begins at home," and I intend to 
 keep him there, we shall share it together. Come, take me 
 on deck. 
 
 Morgan. The night is very dark, the wind fierce — 
 
 Grace. And the sea running high ; no matter, the mighty 
 deep in any form delights me, and it's so beneficial to my 
 health. Ha, ha ! come along. {Takes his arm) 
 
 Morgan. On deck, then. {Exeunt, c.) 
 
 Crumbs {outside). Here you, here you ! 
 Enter Phillis running from R. i e., with the leg of a tur- 
 key in her hand, followed by Crumbs. He catches her by 
 
 right wrist iii c. 
 
 Stop thief, stop thief ! Why — why — it's Phillis. 
 
 Phillis. Jes' so, Mr. Crumbs, it's Phillis. 
 
 Crumbs {Releasing her). Wh — wh — what you doin' in de 
 larder ? 
 
 Phillis. Getting my supper. You don't suppose I was 
 such a ninny as to submit to your low fare, do you ? No, in- 
 deed, not for Phillis. While you have been trying to starve 
 me into submission, I've been feasting on the enemy's stores. 
 {Holds up tu7'key.) 
 
 Crumbs. She boned de turkey, caught in de act. O 
 Phillis ! I blush for you. 
 
 Phillis. Don't strain your complexion on my account. 
 
 Crumbs. Dat's whar all de provender disappeared, and 
 I thought it was de rats. O Phillis, Phillis ! de perfidy ob 
 woman am past finding out. 
 
28 MESSMATES. 
 
 Phillis. That's so. You don't set the right sort of trap. 
 I've been living on the fat of the land. 
 
 Crumbs. Yas, indeed; an' growin' plumper an' plumper 
 ebery day. An' I thought de starbin' cure was jes' gwine to 
 do de business. 
 
 Phillis. So your little scheme has failed. Eh, Mr. 
 Crumbs ? 
 
 Crumbs. O Phillis ! don't look at me in dat way. Dat's 
 cruelty, — cruelty to animals. Oh ! ef I was only dat turkey- 
 leg, dat I might press dose lips. {Approaches her.) 
 
 Phillis. Stand off ! turkey is nice, but I don't hke goose. 
 
 Crumbs. O Phillis! I'll forgib de rabagin' ob de larder, 
 ef you'll only say you lub me. 
 
 Phillis (7iibbling turkey). What, with my mouth full 
 of turkey? that would not be proper. But I may say it 
 some time. 
 
 Crumbs. When's dat, Philhs ? 
 
 Phillis. When the right man asks me. Good night, Mr. 
 Crumbs. I don't love you, but I just adore your larder. 
 {Exit, L. I.) 
 
 Crumbs. Bar's anudder mitten flung, another turkey 
 spoiled. I shall hab to put dat ar' bird onto de table wid one 
 leg in de grabe, an' de cap'n will jes' raise a row. O Phillis ! 
 she lubs not me but de larder. I'll jes' lock up dat hated* 
 ribal tight, so she don't get no more comfort dar. {Exit 
 
 R. I E.) 
 
 {Enter c, Polly and Carter.) 
 
 Polly. Nonsense, Mr. Carter ! 
 
 Carter. It's the truth, Polly ; you are just the most fasci- 
 nating nymph of the sea, I ever set eyes on. 
 
 Polly. Then, because I am a nymph of the sea, as you 
 are pleased to call me, I cannot leave my mother; I was 
 born on the water. Dad and I have sailed together for ten 
 years in storm and calm. I have climbed the rigging in 
 the darkest night. I have taken an oar in the boat, when the 
 men have sought in the wild storm to save life on shipwrecked 
 vessels. I can take my trick at the wheel with the best of 
 them. I know every rope and sail, every shift of the wind, 
 every shade of the clouds. You ask me to leave all this to 
 live in splendor, in carpeted halls and marble palaces, to be 
 the wife of a nabob. 
 
 Carter. That's just what I ask you. You shall do noth- 
 
MESSMATES. 29 
 
 ing but dress in the finest, dance with the gayest, ride with 
 the swiftest. All that money can buy shall be yours. We will 
 share — no, that's only another name for " Divy," — all that 
 I possess shall be yours. 
 
 Polly. Thank you, not for me. Dad's good old heart 
 would break to lose me, his messmate on many a voyage. 
 Why don't you try Grace Morgan ? 
 
 Carter. Ah — hm ! I prefer you, Polly. 
 
 Poll/. And — shall I tell you the truth, Mr. Carter? 
 
 Carter. The truth, Polly. 
 
 Polly. You're just as good as 5'ou can be to make me 
 this nice offer; but — but— I prefer another. 
 
 Carter. The deuce you do ! Who is the happy party? 
 
 Polly. Oh ! he knows nothing about it. 
 
 Carter. Tell me who he is ; I'll make him plump down 
 on his knees before you. 
 
 Polly. But I thought you loved me. 
 
 Carter. What's the use, when you love another? 
 
 Polly. I'm not quite sure — 
 
 Carter. O Polly ! if there's a doubt, give me the benefit 
 of it. 
 
 Polly. Pm not quite sure that he cares for me. 
 
 Carter. He can't help it. Pd give a hundred thousand 
 for his chance. {Aside.) Preferred stock is booming. 
 {Enter Captain, c.) 
 
 Captain. Polly, my girl, bring me my reefer. 
 
 Polly. A}^ ay, dad ! {Exiti^.i.) 
 
 Captain. It's cutting up rough outside, Mr. Carter. 
 
 Carter. I'm glad of it; misery loves company. 
 
 Captain. We're going to have a blow, a growler. Come 
 on deck, it's glorious. 
 
 Carter. Excuse me, captain. I've had a blow here, and 
 you know I don't care to meet growlers. 
 
 Captain. Had a blow ; what do you mean ? 
 
 Carter. I've been asking your daughter to marry me. 
 
 Captain. The deuce you have ! 
 
 Carter. But she's not inclined that way. It's all right, 
 captain, nothing's broke. {Aside.) Thus ends another of 
 Morgan's brilliant matrimonial schemes. {Exit R. 2.) 
 
 Captain {whistles). The nabob wants to marry my Polly, 
 whew! My Poll — well, well ; and she dechnes the honor, 
 my Poll — a good man, Richard Carter : he can't sail a yacht, 
 
3^ MESSMATES. 
 
 PO..V. Hl^tTouSe^.-d'id"''''' ^^^^^^■> 
 Po^LV ™ A "'^^ 'f", '^'ft ''■'>■ P°")'' <=<""« here. 
 
 P0LLv.™A>f °a"fd':i; P^'- >°" ^"'l ' --^ °'d ™e-™a.es. 
 
 Captain (smoothing her hair). Ay, ay ! we've weatherprl 
 gTaL^orr:" '°»"^""^' shared^ n,an;'jo''ys, IndlTn^o:^ 
 
 Polly. Ay, ay, dad. Poor <3ear mother. 
 Biscayf ""■ " ^^'''"'' ^"S°"^» '^at night in the Bay of 
 
 ^^^ Polly. No, dad ; it would be impossible to forget 
 
 ralhf Yl'I; i"^""" ^^"^ "i"-.' '°° ™"^h for her, she could not 
 
 tl^.^::J::^yT^t'' '"" -'-'ess: .yin. on r 
 
 Polly {sobbing). Dying, dad, dying ! 
 
 Captain I don't like the word, Polly: I like to think nf 
 
 i^OLLY. Dear, dear mother! 
 
 Polly™" N^everdt''''^"^'''';™,''^ °^'°"' "'^^ '''St words- 
 
 andle as ™r","T t^l ^^''^ *ere is 'no ' one^to' g^f ^ 
 
 ^eTs^n^ yl rSed^'^C^Tr't'erT ''" "^ -^> ^' ^^^^ 
 Polly. Why, dad, who told you ? 
 
 f.r f "'kt'"!''' , ^'- ^^'"^^'■' t'^^ enormously wealthy Mr Car 
 ter ! Not a bad man, Polly. Such chances for shipp[n<. on 
 the voyage of hfe are scarce. If you care for him p'nIK 
 don't let thought of me stand in th^ way of yLSpfn^J^ 
 Of course I shall miss my little shipmate. I may fed a bi^ 
 lonesome sometimes, and -and -mother won't^care \w^l 
 tng his eyes) if you are happy. ^^^^ 
 
MESSMATES. ^31 
 
 Polly. You dear old dad, I don't care one bit for Mr. 
 Carter, and I do not want to marry him. 
 
 Captain. You don't .? Give us a hug. Then it's all right. 
 
 Polly. Mother told me once that if I wanted to be happy, 
 to marry a sailor. 
 
 Captain {whistles). Bless her dear heart, did she ? I 
 never heard of it. 
 
 Polly. It was one of her secrets. I shall take her ad- 
 vice. Of course, I shall never get such a grand one as she 
 did. 
 
 Captain. Polly, my pet, you're getting tangled in your 
 tongue tackle. 
 
 Polly. So I shall content myself with a common sailor. 
 
 Captain. All right, Polly, one of these days. 
 
 Polly. Dad, do you think Tom Tucker will make a good 
 sailor ? 
 
 Captain. What! that green gosling, that land-lubber, 
 who's in everybody's way, he ? He doesn't know the martin- 
 gale from the gaub-line. 
 
 Polly. Did you, the first time you went to sea ? 
 
 Captain. No ; but I didn't ship as an able seaman. 
 
 Polly. But he can learn, can't he ? 
 
 Captain {whistles). Polly, my pet, it seems to me you 
 take uncommon interest in this uncommon seaman. What's 
 Tom Tucker to you ? 
 
 Polly. Why, nothing, of course ; but he's young and, 
 and — 
 
 Captain. Polly Taylor! I'm afraid I've been foolish in 
 allowing you to repel Mr. Carter. 
 
 Polly. Oh, no, dad ! oh, no ! 
 
 Captain. It looks as though a storm was brewing in 
 another quarter. I'll keep my eye on Master Tom Tucker. 
 {Rises.) Give me my reefer, 1 must go on deck. Good-night, 
 pet. {Kisses her.) 
 
 Polly. Good-night, dad. 
 
 Captain. Turn in early. {Exit c.) 
 
 Polly. Ay, ay, dad. The thought of my miraculous 
 escape from becoming a fine lady is evidently troubling dad. 
 'Twas rather selfish in me, for I could have given dad a ship, 
 and made Tom Tucker, — no, I couldn't make any thing of 
 Tom with Mr. Carter's money; but I've set the captain to 
 thinking, and I shouldn't wonder if Master Tom's chances 
 
32 MESSMATES. 
 
 of becoming a sailor improved. Ha, ha ! there's plenty of 
 room, he's such a blunderhead. {Exit L.) 
 
 Teddy {creeping down compatiion-way). I wonder where 
 Martin Secor bunks ? Nice old chap, Martin; he seems to 
 have taken a particular fancy to me, and helps me over lots 
 of hard places ; he's not been on deck to-night, I'm afraid he's 
 sick. I wonder which is his room .f* I'll try this. {Knocks 
 at door L. i ; Polly appears.) 
 
 Polly. Well, what is it? Good gracious ! Tom Tucker. 
 
 Teddy. Ay, ay! beg pardon, I thought 'twas Secor's 
 room. 
 
 Polly. Next door. 
 
 Teddy. Thank you, Miss Tucker. ( Turns away) 
 
 Polly. Ahem ! Found that friend yet ? 
 
 Teddy. What friend ? 
 
 Polly. That was to formally present you to me. 
 
 Teddy. How can I when you've forbidden me to try ? 
 
 Polly. I'm afraid Cy Goodwin will get ahead of you. 
 
 Teddy. Afraid! Well, that's consoling. Why? 
 
 Polly. Dad trusts him with the wheel, and that often 
 brings him near me. 
 
 Teddy. Cy's luck ! " Dad " never trusts me with any 
 thing. 
 
 Polly. That's because you're a bad sailor. 
 
 Teddy. I suppose I am a pretty shabby lot in the nauti- 
 cal line. I'm a stunner at baseball, football, and other col- 
 legiate studies; but I'd rather be a sailor than any thing 
 else. 
 
 Polly. We are always wanting the impossible ; but why 
 wish to be a sailor? 
 
 Teddy. To be always near you. 
 
 Polly. That would be nice. 
 
 Teddy. O Polly ! 
 
 Polly. If you were a sailor. As you are not, you will be 
 obliged to keep your distance ; that is nice too. 
 
 Teddy. Thank you, Miss Tucker. I'll try. {Turns 
 away) 
 
 Polly. Better give your attention to seamanship. You 
 don't know the sails or the ropes. I don't believe you can 
 make a long splice. 
 
 Teddy. I can learn. 
 
 Polly. When? 
 
MESSMATES. 33 
 
 Teddy. After the introduction. 
 
 Polly. Not with my help. 
 
 Teddy. With yours and a minister's. 
 
 Polly. You don't understand. A long splice is some- 
 thing belonging to a ship. 
 
 Teddy. I know, courtship too. In either case 'tis the 
 end of a rope. 
 
 Polly. Which you richly deserve. 
 
 Teddy. Thank you for your good wishes. 
 
 Polly. You will never succeed. 
 
 Teddy. Oh, you don't know me. 
 
 Polly. Yes, I do; you're a fresh, — a fresh-water sailor. 
 
 Teddy. Bound to rise. You know the immortal Daniel 
 once said, " There is always room at the top." 
 
 Polly. You'll never reach it, you can't climb the rigging. 
 You can do nothing. 
 
 Teddy. I can love you. 
 
 Polly. Without an introduction ? Oh, no ! Mr. Tucker. 
 You're too forward. Go where you belong. 
 
 Teddy. That's forward. 
 
 Polly. Sir! 
 
 Teddy. In the fo'castle, you know. 
 
 Voice {outside). All hands on deck. Ahoy ! ahoy ! ahoy ! 
 
 Polly. There, you're wanted, and you're keeping me out 
 of my berth. 
 
 Voice {outside). Tumble up, tumble up ! 
 
 Polly. That means you ! That's where you excel. 
 
 Teddy. In what, please ? 
 
 Polly. Tumbling, ha, ha! you a sailor! Oh, my! 
 Heaven help me if my life was placed in your keeping. 
 Ha, ha! {Exit L. i.) 
 
 Teddy. She's just jolly. She may laugh at me now ; 
 but as the venerable chestnut says, "let those laugh who win," 
 and I'm bound to beat Cy Goodwin. Now for a word with 
 Secor. {/Cnocks.) 
 
 Wolf {outside) Come in. 
 
 Teddy. Ay, ay ! messmate. {Exit door L. 2.) 
 
 Morgan {outside). Thank you, captain. If you will keep 
 an eye on Grace, I'll go below. 
 
 Captain {outside). Ay, ay ! 
 
 {Kilter Morgan, c.) 
 
 Morgan. I cannot stay on deck ; the roaring blast of the 
 
34 MESSMATES. 
 
 gale fans the unrest which the words of Martin Secor have 
 created. Martin Secor, Martin Secor ! that name throbs in 
 my brain, I cannot banish it, — the man I doubt, and yet 
 dread. Oh, why does he haunt me ! While he lives there 
 is no peace for me. If he were dead — dead — dead — 
 'twould be an easy matter to enter his stateroom in the night, 
 rid myself. No — no — what ideas pursue me ! I murder ? 
 I — no, no, no more of that. {Exit R. 2 ; enter Teddy l. 2.) 
 
 Teddy. He's all right, says he's coming on deck; nice 
 old chap, insisted on my taking his sou-wester because it's 
 going to be a rough night. {Puts on ^'- son-iuesterr) There's 
 Polly's door. I wonder if it would be safe to knock, and say 
 " good-night." No, I'll not venture, it might be dangerous. 
 {Exit C. ; as he goes up companion-way^ enter Morgan, 
 R. 2.) 
 
 Morgan. Martin Secor again ! he's going on deck for 
 his nightly prowl. What a chance ! A push at the head of 
 the companion-way, and he is in the sea, where he belongs ; 
 'tis too good a chance to lose. {Darts np c, Wolf enters 
 L. 2.) 
 
 Wolf {close to locker, so as not to be seen by Morgan). 
 That was Morgan. What new mischief — 
 
 Voice {outside). Man overboard, man overboard ! 
 
 Morgan {rushes down c.). I took the chance, and won. 
 {Exit r. 2.) 
 
 Wolf. Foul play, I'll swear. {Darts up c. ; tumult out- 
 side, trampling of feet, rattling of chain, voices shouting 
 '•'•Fling a rope!'''' '-^ Lower away the boat f^ " There he 
 is/'') 
 
 {Enter Grace, c.) 
 
 Grace. Oh, I cannot bear the sight ! 
 {Enter Polly, l. i.) 
 
 Polly. What's the trouble now ? 
 
 Grace. A man overboard, struggling for life in the mad 
 sea. O Polly, such a sight ! 
 
 Polly. Is dad on deck .? 
 
 Grace. Yes. 
 
 Polly. Then the man is saved. My dad never deserts 
 sailors in distress on land or sea. 
 
 Grace. But there's another. No sooner had the cry 
 been raised, " Man overboard," than a man rushed by me 
 and threw himself into the sea. {Enter Carter, r. 2.) 
 
MESSMATES. 35 
 
 Carter. Have we sprung a leak, run ashore, or collided ? 
 I haven't heard so much noise since I took the one hundred 
 and ninety-first degree of Growlers. 
 
 Voices {outside). Hurrah, hurrah, they've got 'em ! 
 
 Carter. I should think they had, bad. 
 {Enter Captain, c.) 
 
 Captain. We're all right, the boy is safe, 
 
 Polly. What boy, dad ? 
 
 Captain. The boy that's always in mischief; your miser- 
 able seaman, Tom Tucker. 
 
 Polly. O dad, is he safe .'* Where is he ? O dad, Tom 
 Tucker ! 
 
 Carter {aside). Ha, ha ! preferred stock. 
 
 CAPTAIN; Safe, the rascal ! to be sure he is. But it was 
 a narrow squeak for the boy. Ah, Carter! one of your 
 " Growlers " has covered himself with glory. 
 
 Carter. Is it possible.'* 
 
 Captain. Here they come, the boy and his preserver. 
 {Enter c, Wolf with his arm around Teddy.) 
 
 Wolf. Look up, lad, you are safe. {Leads him to chair 
 L. Teddy sinks into it, and closes his eyes) 
 
 Teddy {faintly). I can't swim another stroke. 
 
 Polly {at l., strokes his hair). Tom, Tom ! look up, you're 
 safe. 
 
 Carter {to Wolf). Brother, your hand. {They shake) 
 How's this ? You don't give the grip. 
 
 Wolf {smiling). You're not in position. 
 
 Carter. Faith, he's right; but "Growler" or no 
 " Growler," command me for the half of my inheritance. 
 
 Wolf {holds out his hand). " Divy." 
 
 Carter. Oh ! that hateful word again. {Comes R.) 
 
 Teddy. My head swims, and I'm as weak as a rat. 
 
 Polly. Run and get some brandy, dad. 
 
 Teddy. No, no ! I'll come round all right. Say, Martin, 
 who is the lady whose sweet voice falls so soothingly on my 
 ears? 
 
 Wolf. The captain's daughter. 
 
 Teddy. I should like to know her; introduce me, please. 
 
 Wolf. Certainly. — Miss Taylor, it gives me pleasure to 
 introduce my friend Teddy Morgan. 
 
 Polly. Teddy Morgan! • 
 
 Teddy {jumping up). Yours truly. Delighted to mak« 
 
36 MESSMATES. 
 
 your acquaintance. Hooray! I've beat Cy Goodwin, and 
 won the wager; I've been soused in the sea, and must be a 
 regular salt, glory enough for one day. {Dances about stage.) 
 Hip, hip, hooray! {Dances up, and meets MORGAN, who 
 entefs from r. i .) 
 
 Morgan. Teddy Morgan, my son ! 
 
 Teddy {falling back to chair). My dad. 
 
 Captain. Your son ! how came he on board the " Sea- 
 bright " .? 
 
 Morgan. Let him answer that. 
 
 Teddy. In good time, dad. I am more anxious to know 
 how I came in the water. 
 
 Captain. Tumbled over, of course; I've been expecting 
 it. 
 
 Teddy. Wrong, captain ; I don't tumble that way. I 
 was pushed into the sea. Perhaps hurled would better ex- 
 press the manner in which I was treated, for 'twas a strong 
 arm that sent me over. 
 
 Morgan {aside). Wretch that I am! I've tried to drown 
 my own boy. {Siitks into chair R.) 
 
 Captain. Who could have been guilty of so dastardly a 
 deed ? 
 
 Polly. Could Cy Goodwin ? 
 
 Teddy. No, Polly. I beg pardon. Miss Taylor; Harvard 
 fellows don't settle bets in that way. 
 
 Captain. I'll not sleep -until I have discovered the 
 wretch. 
 
 Wolf. Don't trouble yourself, captain. Take your rest 
 in peace, be sure his sin will find him out. 
 
 Morgan. Who spoke then ? 
 
 Captain. Martin Secor; the man in whom I have faith, 
 the man who at the peril of his life saved your son from a 
 watery grave. 
 
 Morgan. Martin Secor! {Rises.) He saved my boy? 
 No ; 'tis false, he's at the bottom of the sea; you are deceiv- 
 ing me. Oh, heavens ! (Falls.) 
 
 Wolf. 'Tis only a faint. {Raises his head to his knee. 
 Throius back the collar of his shirt, showing the picture 
 of a vulture on his breast. To Captain.) Look there. 
 
 Captain {extreme l.). Gracious heavens ! What do I 
 see ? 
 
MESSMATES. IJ 
 
 Wolf. The indelible prick of the sailor's needle. The 
 years come and go, the old ship lies rotting at the bottom of 
 the sea, but the vulture still lives (points to figure) there. 
 
 Captain. Jack Ober ! my messmate. 
 
 Picture. 
 
 Wolf with left hand holding back the collar of Mor- 
 gan's shirty right ha?id pointing to figure 07i his breast. 
 Captain extreme l., pointing to Morgan. Carter ex- 
 treme L., with arms folded. Polly at table. Teddy in 
 chair^ L., leaning towards Morgan as if about to rise. 
 
ACT III. — IN PORT. 
 
 Cabin by daylight. Crumbs on his knees before Phillis, 
 clasping her right hand. 
 
 Phillis {endeavoring to release her hand). Mr. Crumbs, 
 let me go. 
 
 Crumbs. O Phillis, listen to de beating ob dis swelled 
 heart ! 'Tis yer last chance : take me now, or lose me for- 
 ebber. In an hour we shall be anchored : we shall go 
 ashore. 
 
 Phillis. And the first girl you meet, you will fall in love 
 with. 
 
 Crumbs. Dat's a fac ; dat's what skeers me. I knows 
 my weakness. Sabe from de temptations ob de fair sex. 
 
 Phillis. La, Mr. Crumbs, I 'spect I shall have to marry 
 you to get rid of you ! 
 
 Crumbs. Dat's a fac ; get rid of me, or I shall get rid of 
 myself, by frowing this lub-lacerated body into de waters 
 ob oblivion. Ef I can't lib wid you, I won't lib widout you. 
 Sabe me, or be forebber haunted by de ghost ob a diseased 
 African. 
 
 Phillis. Well, Mr. Crumbs, if you are of the same mind 
 when we drop anchor, I'll consent — 
 
 Crumbs. To marry me .'' 
 
 Phillis. To your becoming a ghost. 
 (Teddy rmis down c.) 
 
 Teddy. Great Scott! {Tur?is, and 7'uns t^p c, Phillis 
 screams, and runs off L. i.) 
 
 Crumbs {rises). Now, who's dat disturbin' de meetin'? 
 In de bery moment ob excruciatin' bliss de spoiler comes, 
 and Phillis scoots. (Teddy creeps down c, cautiously.) Oh, 
 it's you, young ham-boner ! 
 
 Teddy. I say, Crumbs, is the coast clear? 
 
 Crumbs. Don't know nuffin bout de coast: de girl am 
 cleared. 
 
 Teddy. Sorry to have disturbed your tete-a-tete. 
 38 
 
MESSMATES. 39 
 
 Crumbs. Now don't you be calling names. She's Phillis, 
 simple Phillis. 
 
 Teddy. Simple! Do you think so, Crumbs? How 
 about the larder? 
 
 Crumbs. Now — now — who — who — Look a-here, 
 young ham-boner ! I don't want no nonsense. Dar ar chords 
 in de human breast dat can't be handled wid impurity. 
 
 Teddy. I've an idea that the fair Phillis has made as sad 
 havoc with your chords as she did with your larder. 
 
 Crumbs. Now — now — 
 
 Teddy. Let's drop anatomy, and turn to business. Here's 
 a letter for you. {Presents letter) 
 
 Ck\}ubs {taking it). Letter for me? Whar did it come from? 
 
 Teddy. A boat has just arrived from shore bringing the 
 mail, which arrived on the steamer a week ago. 
 
 Crumbs {ttmiing it over a?id over). Who's it from ? 
 
 Teddy. Open it and see. Have you lost your senses ? 
 
 Crumbs. Los' my specs overboard de day we sailed : 
 dat's what's de marter. 
 
 Teddy. Shall I open it ? 
 
 Crumbs {giving letter). Ef you please. 
 
 Teddy {opens letter). It's signed " Nicodemus Johnson." 
 
 Crumbs. Dat so ? Why, dat's de parson dat was about 
 to jine Sophia Sassafras and me when de cyclone struck and 
 dissolbed de caucus. What's he say ? 
 
 Teddy {reads). " Cornbrake Crumbs, Esq." 
 
 Crumbs. Dat's me. Go on. 
 
 Teddy {reads). " In de far distant country to which you 
 are trabellin' dar are temptations." 
 
 Crumbs. Dat's what I tole Phillis. 
 
 Teddy {reads). " I know your weakness." 
 
 Crumbs. An' I knows de parson's, — Welsh rarebits at 
 two in de mornin', an soft-shell crabs dat make hard-shell 
 sermons. 
 
 Teddy {reads). " Dis is to warn you. When you axed me 
 to rehearse wid you and Miss Sassafras de ceremony in de 
 back parlor before de regular performance in de front, when 
 you two jined right hands and spoke de words I told you, 
 you were legally married " — 
 
 Crumbs. Yas ; well, I guess not : wa'n't no witnesses. 
 
 Teddy {reads). " For de widow Sassafras was behind de 
 door, and Welcome Jones was peekin' fro the keyhole." 
 
40 MESSMATES. 
 
 Crumbs. Dat settles it. 
 
 Teddy {reads). " You are a married man ; so behave 
 yourself, and send my fee by return mail." 
 
 Crumbs. Send de fee ! Don't get no half-dollar fer a 
 rehearsal from dis chile. 
 
 Teddy. Accept my congratulations, Crumbs. {Gives 
 letter.) Kiss the bride for me when you meet. The parson, 
 the widow, and peeping Jones have settled you for life. 
 Oh, happy, happy Crumbs ! ha, ha, ha! {Exit c, laughing.) 
 
 Crumbs {jnocking). Haw, haw, haw! Dat ar ham-boner 
 jes' make me wild. Wh — wh — what de widder Sassafras 
 doin' ahind dat door? An' — an' dey call dat foolishness a 
 weddin' : 'spect I'se fixed, do ; ain't no goin ahind de returns. 
 But I guess ef de parson wants his fee, he'll hab to take it 
 outer de contribution-box. 
 
 {Enter Phillis, l. r.) 
 
 Phillis. Oh ! Mr. Crumbs, I've been thinking about 
 your offer, and have decided that I — I — will accept you. 
 
 Crumbs. What's dat.? 
 
 Phillis. I am ready to marry you. 
 
 Crumbs. Golly, here's a row ! Must I shatter de proud 
 hopes ob dat trusting girl? {Aloud.) O Phillis! my heart 
 bleeds for you, but it must not, cannot, be. De surgeon hab 
 jes' inform me dat I hab an enlargement ob de cattapillary 
 glands which any excitement would precipitate into con- 
 glomoration ob de exotic nerbs. 
 
 Phillis. Then we will have a very quiet wedding: just 
 the parson and a couple of witnesses. 
 
 Crumbs. One ahind de door, and one ahind de keyhole. 
 No, Phillis, no rehearsal. 
 . Phillis. Rehearsal ? 
 
 Crumbs. Yes. Well, I mean, Philhs, it's no use knockin' 
 at de door ob dis heart, for when de cattapillary glands am 
 leadin' de orchestra in de grand harmony ob de human 
 structure, de heart must play de second fiddle. 
 
 Phillis. Then you don't mean to marry me. 
 
 Crumbs. I can't, PhilHs. De parson — I mean de sur- 
 geon — 
 
 Phillis. Bother the surgeon ! You've had a letter from 
 home, from that Sassafras girl, and you want to throw me 
 over. You base, deceitful man ! {sobs) win a poor girl's love 
 {sobs\ and then basely {sobs) desert her ! [^Sobbing) 
 
MESSMATES. 4I 
 
 Crumbs. I feel for you, Phillis. I know what a loss I 
 must be to you, but de will ob de medical surgeon must be 
 obeyed. 
 
 Phillis {sobbing). Oh, what shall I do ? what shall I do? 
 
 Crumbs {aside). Now jes' see de harm dat comes ob 
 rehearsals ! Ef I jes' had dat Welcome Jones by de scruff 
 ob de neck, Fd put his head fro' de smalles' keyhole ebber 
 made. 
 
 Phillis {sobbing). O, Mr. Crumbs, do not forsake me ! 
 
 Crumbs. I'se sorry for you, Phillis, but de course ob 
 true lub nebber did run smoove ; an' — an' — I mus' run an' 
 take a pill. {Exit R. i e.) 
 
 Phillis {sobs until Crumbs is off., then looks up smil- 
 ing). Take your pill, Mr. Crumbs. The surgeon that made 
 it is well rid of you ; ha, ha, ha ! {Exit l. i.) 
 
 Arabella {sticks her head out R. i). I do believe this 
 pesky boat is getting into smooth water again. {Creeps out.) 
 For twelve days I've been tossed and tumbled in that narrow 
 bunk, expecting every minute to be my last; and they call 
 this a pleasure-trip. I've shrunk so I can scarcely keep my 
 clothes from slipping off. Oh, dear ! why did I leave my 
 happy home ? 
 
 {Enter Carter, c.) 
 
 Carter. Why, Mrs. Caraway, this is a surprise. Old 
 Father Neptune has treated you so shamefully, we feared 
 we should never see you again. But you are all right now ? 
 
 Arabella. All there is left of me. Father Neptune 
 has indeed treated me shamefully, ah ! but not so badly 
 as I was treated by one Richard Carter ten years ago. 
 
 Carter. You allude to our httle flirtation — 
 
 Arabella. Little flirtation ! hear the man ! The man 
 to whom I gave my youthful affections, the man I wor- 
 shipped as he sat enthroned among his fellows, the Grand 
 Panjodah of the Antique Order of Disgruntled Growlers. 
 Oh, those days, those happy, too happy days ! 
 
 Carter. But, my dear Arabella, those days have passed. 
 You became the wife of old Tom Caraway, and I am no 
 longer a Growler. 
 
 Arabella. Not a Growler? Have you basely deserted 
 the craft that honored you ? Have you forgotten those fiery 
 terms which from 3'our eloquent lips made tyrants of trade 
 tremble, aristocrats of wealth quake ? 
 
42 MESSMATES. 
 
 Carter. I've no occasion to remember them now. I'm 
 rich. When a man's wealthy, he can't go round begging an 
 excited multitude to "down with the rich." He might as 
 well try to pull himself up by his boots. 
 
 Arabella. And for this man's sake I too became a 
 Growler ! 
 
 Carter. What? 
 
 Arabella. I am a member of the Oriental Annex. 
 
 Carter. Is it possible ? Give me a sign. 
 (Arabella places her left hand under her right elbow, the 
 
 right ha?id upright, then slowly lets the hand fall for- 
 ward three times.) 
 
 Carter. The sign of the spinster degree. Correct. 
 What does it signify .? 
 
 Arabella. That my hand is free. 
 
 Carter. Correct. Now, then, the grip {extends his right 
 hand) when a brother offers his hand. 
 
 Arabella {extending her hand). 'Nuff — 
 
 Carter. Said — 
 
 Both {clasping hands). Shake. 
 
 Carter. Correct. Now, then, the grand union sign. 
 
 Arabella. In position? 
 
 Carter. Of course. {They place themselves back to 
 back.) Now : one, two, three. ( They turn, embrace, and 
 speak in each other's ear.) " Divy." 
 
 Teddy {rushes down c). More spoons ! {Runs up c. ; 
 Arabella screams, and rims off,K. i .) 
 
 Carter {looking after Teddy). Correct. The fair Ara- 
 bella is undoubtedly a sister of the Oriental Annex of expec- 
 tant tarryers, whose motto is " the good time coming." The 
 good time does not come to all of them, but they have a 
 good time hoping, all the same. 
 
 Arabella {sticks her head out). Are you alone ? 
 
 Carter. Correct. Enter, fear not. 
 
 Arabella {enters). Oh, what a misfortune to be caught 
 in such a predicament ! 
 
 Carter. Never mind, Arabella: 'twas only a grand 
 union sign. 
 
 Arabella. Who was the intruder? 
 
 Carter. I didn't see his face ; but as there's but one 
 individual who is always round when he's not wanted, I 
 should say it was Teddy Morgan. 
 
MESSMATES. 43 
 
 Arabella. My nephew ! The whole family will hear of 
 it. I shall be laughed at. 
 
 Carter. Not on my account. That little touch of the 
 antique has rekindled the flame of love in the breast of the 
 apostate Growler. You were my first, my only love. We 
 have both sought the mysteries, have both knelt before the 
 vermilion, both taken the vows. I've broken mine, but you 
 are still among the faithful. Let us together seek the antique 
 fane, and go into business together, with the grand union 
 sign above the door. 
 
 Arabella. Mercy sakes ! what are you talking about ? 
 
 Carter. About marriage. 
 
 Arabella. Oh ! 
 
 Carter. Will you have me ? 
 
 Arabella {quick). Yes. 
 
 Carter. Correct. Spinster sign for the last time, when 
 a brother offers his hand. {Exterids his.) 
 
 Arabella {extending hers). 'Nuff — 
 
 Carter. Said — 
 
 Both. Shake. 
 
 Arabella. O Richard, I'm so happy ! 
 
 Carter. In future we'll be happy together. I'll go back 
 to the antique, when I marry you. I'll give up my wealth. 
 
 Arabella. To whom.? 
 
 Carter. The Growlers, of course. 
 
 Arabella. Oh, no, my dear! you'll do nothing of the 
 sort: we are aristocrats now. 
 
 Carter. Do you intend to shake the Growlers too? 
 
 Arabella. All but one, when we are married. I may 
 shake him if he does not behave himself. 
 
 Carter. Correct. Arabella, I've seen younger women — 
 
 Arabella. Richard ! 
 
 Carter. Than Polly Taylor ; handsomer women — 
 
 Arabella. Richard ! 
 
 Carter. Than the celebrated Jersey Lily — 
 
 Arabella {tenderly). O Richard ! 
 
 Carter. But for solid happiness and enduring bliss, 
 give me the woman who dared join a mystic society, and 
 keep its secret. These are belles, but she {opening his 
 arms) — Arabella. 
 
 Arabella {her arms about his neck). My Grand Pan- 
 jodah ! {Exeunt c.) 
 
44 MESSMATES. 
 
 {Enter Wolf, l. 2.) 
 
 Wolf. This masquerade is almost past endurance. For 
 six days Jack Ober has kept his berth. Since that stormy 
 night in mid-ocean no one has seen his face, except his 
 daughter. They told me he was ill, nigh unto death. Have 
 I gone too far.-* Have I racked this guilty man's conscience 
 beyond the point of justice? Have I, in seeking to bring 
 him to confession, been guilty of as foul a crime as that for 
 which he suffers ? No, no, I do but seek the fulfilment of a 
 dying man's last request. Let me but meet him again, let 
 but one penitential tear drop from his eyes, and the future 
 is bright with hope. {Enter Grace r. 2.) His daughter! 
 {Turns away^ and, during the scene with Grace, keeps his 
 face from her) 
 
 Grace. Martin Secor ! The very man I hoped to meet ! 
 
 Wolf. Your father is recovering ? 
 
 Grace. Thanks to a* strong constitution, yes. 
 
 Wolf. I am glad to hear it. 
 
 Grace. That is false. For every pang he has suffered, 
 you have hugged yourself in triumph. 
 
 Wolf. I.? 
 
 Grace. Yes, you, a human vampire draining the life- 
 blood of your victim ! You have pursued him with relent- 
 less hate. In his delirium there was but one name on his 
 lips, — Martin Secor. I hate the name as I hate you. 
 
 Wolf {agitated, aside). Heaven help me to bear this ! 
 
 Grace. How has my father wronged you ? tell me, his 
 daughter.. Can gold requite.'' It shall be thrown to you in 
 thousands. Must life alone satisfy your vengeance ? Take 
 mine: I would gladly die to save him. Speak! What is 
 the wrong? 
 
 Wolf. I cannot answer you. 
 
 Grace. Coward ! you dare not. In some crafty way 
 you have obtained some hold upon him. You are not bold 
 enough to strike one blow, and free him from your power, 
 but, vulture-like, feed on his fears, exulting in the prolonga- 
 tion of his misery. Oh, would that I were a man! I'd 
 match my strength against your cunning. To a wretch like 
 you, gray hairs should be no protection. 
 
 Wolf {with an effort). Lady, you wrong me : I am not 
 the guilty wretch you think me. As freely as you would lay 
 down your life for your father, would I mine for you and 
 
MESSMATES. 45 
 
 yours. If your father has wronged me, three words from 
 his lips would be ample satisfaction : three little words worth 
 more to me than gold or life ; for they would free me from an 
 oath, free me from the taunt of cowardice, which from a fair 
 woman's lips to an honest man, which I am, is worse than 
 death. 
 
 Grace. How is this? Have I been mistaken? 
 
 Wolf. Time will show. We are nearing port. Already 
 the perfume of Bermuda's tropical luxuriance is wafted on 
 the breeze. Ere your foot touches the land, you shall con- 
 fese that Martin Secor is as true as yonder lover, who, 
 across the sea, awaits tidings frt)m his mistress. Only give 
 me time. I'm old and weak, but, thank Heaven ! neither 
 wretch nor coward. {Agitated.) No, no! {Staggers into 
 
 L. 2.) 
 
 Grace. An honest man ! His acts belie his words. He 
 never looked me in the face. Three words would free him ! 
 If that is all, my father shall speak them. Capt. Taylor's 
 words, " I have faith in Martin Secor," ring in my ears. I 
 have no faith, but hope our voyage ended we shall see the 
 last of Martin Secor. 
 
 {Enter Polly, c.) 
 
 Polly {sings as she enters). 
 
 " A Yankee yacht and a Yankee crew, 
 Tally-i-o, you know, 
 Can beat the world on the waters bhie ; 
 Sing hey aloft and alow." 
 
 Grace, we're nearly in. You should be on deck. Mrs. 
 Caraway is there. 
 
 Grace. Aunt on deck ! that's good news. 
 
 Polly. I'm afraid she's not feeling very well, for Mr. 
 Carter has his arm around her, and she clings to him awfully. 
 Are you going up ? 
 
 Grace. Not just now. I must go to my stateroom and 
 look after Phillis. {Exit l. i.) 
 
 Polly. She's real nice. Of course : isn't she Ted's sis- 
 ter? Poor fellow ! I snub him every time I have a chance, 
 but I shall hate awfully to lose him. {Turns to c. as Teddy 
 comes down., tuinbling into her ar7ns.) 
 
 Teddy. I beg pardon. 
 
 Polly. Will you never learn to come down properly ? 
 
46 MESSMATES. 
 
 Teddy. Don't want to, Miss Polly. The captain told 
 me that if I continued to improve my chances I should suc- 
 ceed in breaking my neck; and I'm bound to succeed in 
 something. Jolly lark on deck! Mr. Carter and aunt Ara- 
 bella are spooning like Romeo and Juliet. 
 
 Polly. Well, what of it ? 
 
 Teddy. It's shameful at their time of life. Mr. Carter 
 is no chicken; and aunt Arabella, — well, she says she has 
 seen our century-plant bloom once, and I know it's nearly 
 ready to flower again. 
 
 Polly. Why, Teddy Morgan ! that would make her 
 nearly a hundred years old. • 
 
 Teddy. She looks it. Oh, she's fishing for him. I 
 heard her call him her grand pan of chowder. Bah ! and 
 he looks at her, — well, I couldn't begin to describe the 
 ecstatic gleams he manages to flash through his gig-lights ! 
 
 Polly. Oh, I know! Mrs. Caraway is not the only 
 one who has received those tokens of affection. I wouldn't 
 have believed the man could have so soon forgotten me. 
 
 Teddy. You, Polly? 
 
 Polly. Yes, me. I had only to say yes, and become a 
 millionnairess. 
 
 Teddy. What did you say ? 
 
 Polly. That I preferred another. 
 
 Teddy. One Teddy Morgan, alias Tom Tucker, alias 
 Ted the Fresh. 
 
 Polly. Well, I like that. 
 
 Teddy. Of course you do. You may snub Thomas 
 Tucker as much as you please, but when Teddy Morgan, at 
 the ripe age of twenty-one, says to you, "Polly, my darling, 
 the parson is waiting for the bride and groom to make a long 
 splice," you're not going to drop your end of the rope. 
 
 Polly. I'm going to marry a sailor. 
 
 Teddy. So you shall, Polly. I have burned my college- 
 boats, and henceforth old ocean is my alma mater. In the 
 words of a celebrated marine poet, " I'm bound to be a 
 sailor-boy, by jingo ! or die." 
 
 Polly. Your father will never consent. 
 
 Teddy. No matter as long as yours does. So give me 
 your hand, my jolly little messmate {takes her hand and 
 kneels), and hear me swear — 
 
 Polly. Why, Ted ! 
 
MESSMATES. 47 
 
 Teddy. That until this battered hulk lies bleaching on 
 the shores of time, Teddy Morgan, able seaman — 
 Polly. Ha, ha, ha ! 
 Teddy. Will be true to the sailor's toast, — 
 
 " Thv^ wind that blows, the ship that goes, 
 And the lass that loves a sailor." 
 
 How's that for nautics ? 
 
 Polly. Very good. You deserve promotion. You'll 
 soon be able to command a smack, perhaps. 
 
 Teddy {throws arm about her waist). I'd rather beg one. 
 
 Polly {struggling). Teddy Morgan ! 
 {Enter CAPTAIN, c.) 
 
 Captain. Belay, there, belay ! (Teddy and Polly sepa- 
 rate., she over to r., he to l.) You young pirate ! what do 
 you mean by boarding my little clipper in that way .'' 
 
 Teddy. Well, you see, captain, she was running free, 
 and I hove down to speak her, when my fore-yard arm got 
 entangled in her waist, and — and — 
 
 Captain. Avast, you've unshipped your rudder. Polly, 
 what new caper has this young lobster been cutting up ? 
 
 Polly. Nothing much, dad. He was running down, and 
 I was running up, and we ran smack against each other. 
 
 Teddy {aside). I missed the smack. 
 
 Captain. A pretty yarn ! There's been too much skulk- 
 ing here. I don't like it. As soon as we anchor. Master 
 Ted, I shall discharge you, and turn you over to your 
 father. 
 
 Teddy. But I don't like being turned over. I shipped 
 for the voyage out and back. Why should you discharge 
 me? I've done nothing. 
 
 Captain. Right, my lad ; that's reason enough. 
 
 Teddy. Very well, then, I shall ship on another vessel. 
 
 Polly. And so will I. 
 
 Captain. Polly! 
 
 Polly, He wants to be a sailor, and I want to have 
 him — 
 
 Teddy. After I become a sailor. Don't you see ? 
 
 Captain. I see breakers ahead. On deck, you young 
 rascal, and swab out the jolly-boat ! 
 
 Teddy. Ay, ay, sir ! {Goes up c. Turns in companion- 
 way.) Polly, don't give up the ship. 
 
48 MESSMATES. 
 
 Captain (roars). Will you be off ? 
 
 Teddy. Ay, ay, sir ! (Ezi^ c.) 
 
 Captain. Now, Polly Taylor, you're to have nothing 
 more to do with that young porpoise. 
 
 Polly. Ay, ay, dad ! 
 
 Captain. You've allowed your affections to drift into 
 very shallow waters. Clap on all sail, and sheer off before 
 you get aground. 
 
 Polly. Ay, ay, dad ! if wind and tide are with you. If 
 not ? 
 
 Captain. Drop an anchor to windward, and wait the 
 turn of the tide. 
 
 Polly. Ay, ay, dad ! that suits me better. I think my 
 little bark is sailing in deep water to a peaceful harbor ; not 
 drifting, dad, for I was taught by an old salt that the captain 
 who allows his ship to drift is no sailor. 
 
 Captain. You're right there, Polly. 
 
 Polly. But as you think there is danger, and it's too late 
 to wear ship, over goes the anchor. 
 
 Captain. Too late ! Are you in love with that mon- 
 key .? 
 
 Polly. Pm sure of it, dad. 
 
 Captain. Well, Pm not, and I forbid your having any 
 thing more to do with him. 
 
 Polly. Ay, ay, captain ! 
 
 Captain. Captain ! Why not dad, as usual .-^ 
 
 Polly. As you have taken command of my affections, I 
 wish to pay proper respect to my superior officer. 
 
 Captain. Polly ! 
 
 Polly. Oh, it's all right, dad ! You know better than I 
 what's best for me; but he's so jolly and bright, and so kind- 
 hearted, and — and — Oh, it's so hard to give him up ! 
 (Sods.) 
 
 Captain. Who said any thing about giving him up? 
 {Takes her in his arms.) O Polly, Polly, my pet, don't cry! 
 You know I wouldn't stand in the way of your happiness. 
 But such a boy ! 
 
 Polly. He's growing every day. 
 
 Captain. Yes, worse and worse. He can't splice a rope, 
 nor reeve a block. Polly, I thought you were going to marry 
 a sailor. 
 
 Polly. Of my own making, yes. Teddy would sail with 
 
MESSMATES. 49 
 
 us, and I could teach him ; and when he is a real sailor we 
 could marry. Don't you see, dad ? 
 
 Captain. And are you willing to wait until thartime ? 
 
 Polly. Forever, dad. 
 
 Captain. Then dry your eyes, pet; I consent. {Aside.) 
 She'll die an old maid. 
 
 Polly {hugging him). Oh, you dear old dad ! May 1 run 
 and tell him 1 {Runs up c.) 
 
 Captain. Belay, there ! (Polly turns) Never disturb 
 a sailor when he's on duty. 
 
 Polly. Oh, he's no sailor! Eh, dad? Ha, ha, ha! 
 {Exit c.) 
 
 Captain. Ah ! she had me there, and she'll have him. 
 Just like her mother; when she fell in love with me, I didn't 
 know the compass from the caboose ; but she waited, and so 
 shall Master Ted. If there's the timber of a tar in him, I'll 
 make him worthy of my Polly. {Enter MoKGA-ii from R. 2 ; 
 slowly totters to chair, R., and sinks into it.) Jack Ober at 
 last. {Turns his back to hi7n.) 
 
 Morgan. Six days of misery, and no strength to rally ! 
 When the breeze brought the fragrance of that tropic para- 
 dise through my window, I felt its reviving freshness, and 
 longed to be on deck ; but on my feet my limbs refuse to do 
 their duty, my head swims, and I totter hke an old man in 
 his dotage. What has brought me to this.^ not a week's 
 illness 1 No, no ! Remorse, the demon that has pursued me 
 since that guilty night, is claiming its prey. There is no 
 escape, (^ees Captain.) Ah ! captain, you see I have 
 weathered the storm. {Attempts to rise : sinks back.) Give 
 me a helping hand. 
 
 Qavim^ {without turning). I have no helping hand for 
 Jack Ober. 
 
 Morgan (^^/z^j"/). Jack — Jack Ober! He knows me. 
 . Captain. The man w|jo swore eternal friendship with a 
 messmate, then deserted him, left him to starve. The Judas 
 who sold his honest heart for a money-belt ! A thief ! A 
 helping-hand to such as you ? No : I'd sooner cut it off, 
 and cast it into the sea. 
 
 Morgan. You are right, old messmate : I deserve your 
 scorn. I did sell my honesty for gold, did desert you. 
 Crush ,me, trample upon me ; I deserve no man's help, no 
 man's pity. 
 
50 MESSMATES. 
 
 Captain {turns). O Jack, Jack ! why did you do this 
 thing, you who before that night deserved the title by which 
 you were hailed, — honest Jack Ober ? 
 
 Morgan. Don't, Nat! don't call me that name. 
 
 Captain. And brave Jack Ober. Remember how you 
 won that name. 'Twas when you saved the captain's child 
 at Calcutta; and you deserved it. 
 
 Morgan. Honest and brave. Titles to be defended by 
 worthy actions and a pure life. When it came to the test, I, 
 coward-like, deserted them. O Nat, I am an accursed 
 wretch ! 
 
 Captain. Belay, Jack ! When you hand in the log of 
 your voyage to the great underwriter up there, I'm afraid 
 'twill go hard with you : you've not sailed by compass. Let's 
 leave that matter to Him. You say you're sorry, so, for 
 the sake of the honest days, there's my hand. 
 
 Morgan. No, no ! I cannot take it : you don't know the 
 worst of me. I — I — murdered Martin Secor. 
 
 Captain. Come, come, Jack, your head is still weak. 
 Martin Secor was on deck an hour ago. 
 
 Morgan. Yes, the impostor. The real Martin Secor fol- 
 lowed me that night, swam after my boat, grappled it. I 
 struck him down. {Staggers to his feet.) I see him now 
 sinking, sinking, sinking ; now he's gone, never to return. 
 Will nothing blot out that horrid sight ,'' 
 
 Captain. Jack, Jack, you rave ! you are ill ! let me call 
 your daughter. 
 
 Morgan. Ay ! call her, call my son, to see their father 
 on his knees, to hear him confess his crime, and implore 
 pardon. (Wolf 7-tishes to Q.from l. 2.) 
 
 Wolf. Hush ! The secrets of that night are ours alone. 
 We three will settle them. 
 
 Morgan. You here .? 
 
 Wolf. To give you absolutiort if you repent. 
 
 Morgan. Heaven knows I do. 
 
 Wolf. Then I am free to speak. When you struck at 
 Martin Secor, you missed him, but he sank, encountering in 
 his descent the trailing painter of your boat. 
 
 Morgan. Ah ! 
 
 Wolf. By this he sustained himself, and moved with you. 
 Fearful that a second blow from your oar might prove fatal, 
 he floated in silence until the boat was passing an island, 
 
MESSMATES. 5 1 
 
 when he abandoned it, and swam ashore. He was rescued 
 in three days. 
 
 Morgan. He still lives ? 
 
 Wolf. He died ten years ago at Melbourne. 
 
 Captain. But who are you .^ , , , -^u 
 
 Wolf. His executor. There was a lad wbo, with one 
 Nat Taylor, escaped to San Francisco. The faithful sailor 
 ell ill. The lad, by a fortunate meeting, fell into the arms 
 of his father. They sailed for Melbourne. On his death- 
 bed the father told his story, and bade the boy seek the mail 
 who had wronged him, and wring a confession from him. 
 These were his'words : " Let not the friendship of man or 
 the love of woman deter you from your purpose. He be- 
 ieves himself a murderer.' His guilty soul wi 1 some ime 
 betray its secret; then, if but three words of repentance 
 
 ^"MotoA^!' Tarn f"ee at last, at last ! (SMs seeping into 
 
 '^CAPxiiN. But the boy, the little chap I took, where is 
 
 he ? 
 
 Wolf {throws off wig and whiskers. Grace appears 
 
 "^"GraS'^'aIi, Horace, Horace Gaylord ! {Runs into 
 Wolf's anns.) 
 
 Wolf. Dear, dear Grace ! 
 
 Morgan. Horace Gaylord ! 
 
 Wolf. To which add Secor, and you have my name. 
 
 Grace. O Horace, what does this mean ? 
 
 Wolf. That as mv lady-love went off yachting without 
 my permission, I had the curiosity to know why and where 
 
 '^GrIcF ' And you have been on board all the time, and 
 never let me know you ! and then the horrid names I called 
 vou ! O Horace, what does it all mean? 
 
 Wolf That three words have been spoken which make 
 your father and me friends for life. {Holds out hand to 
 
 Morgan.) , ^ _ ... r^-^rf^ i-.p'<^ 
 
 Morgan {grasping it warmly). For hfe. Grace, he s 
 
 the prince of good fellows. j^„„u 
 
 Grace. A miracle ! and he may marry your daugh- 
 
 ^^ M organ. To-morrow if he likes. I wish I had a dozen : 
 
52 MESSMATES. 
 
 he should marry them all. {Comes forward.) Nat Taylor 
 old messmate, I'll take that hand now. ^ ' 
 
 Captain. Ay, ay, Jack, with the old Vulture grip ! ( Thev 
 shake hands warmly, and stand by l. table^ conversmi 
 Wolf and Grace near r. table. Polly and Teddy 
 ^//^«r c, hand in hand.) 
 
 Polly. We've anchored, dad. 
 
 7 "^Sf^^'j She's swinging at her moorings (J2£//«FJ Polly's 
 hajid\ and so am I. {They come down t) 
 
 Wolf. Don't forget to return my sou'wester, Ted. 
 
 Teddy. Hallo, Horace ! have they found you out ? 
 
 Wolf. Yes : the stowaway is unmasked. 
 
 Teddy. Serves you right for bamboozling the whole com- 
 pany except me The moment I cast my weather-eye on you, 
 I saw through the disguise. ^ ^ ' 
 
 Grace. And you never told me ! 
 
 Polly. Nor me. Smart, ain't you .? 
 
 r.7^''5'E' T,^^""^ ^'^''' ^''">^- '^^^t's the first praise I have 
 received for all my endeavors in the nautical line The green 
 hand's lookmg up. ** 
 
 tremeT) ^^^^^^ ^' ' ^' '^'^^ ^^^^^^-' ^^^^^ ^own ex- 
 
 Crumbs {to Teddy). Loek a-here, young ham-boner! dat 
 ar letter trom de parson am written on one ob my bill ob 
 tare. How de parson git dat } ( Enter Phillis l. 2.) 
 
 Teddy. Ask the parson {points to Phillis) over there 
 ^ Phillis. La, Mr. Crumbs! I stole it from the larder- I 
 just tooled you to get rid of you. 
 
 Crumbs. O Phillis! how could you.? O, dat ar' fill ob 
 bear am de camel dat breaks de spell. 
 
 Grace. Now, Horace, tell me — - 
 
 Wolf. No more, Grace. Our troubles are over. Out- 
 ward bound with favoring breezes, all looked bright before 
 us. In mid-ocean we wresded with the storm, but now all is 
 
 re-un1"ed — ^"^'^"^ ^^ ^^ ^^'^ '""^^ P^""'* ^^^ messmates 
 Morgan {shaking hands with Captain). That's so, 
 
 Captain. Ay, ay. Jack ! 
 Wolf. New loves budding — 
 
 Teddy {tucking Voia.x'^ arm into his). That means us, 
 Polly : we are the buds. * 
 
MESSMATES. 53 
 
 Wolf. True hearts united ! ( Takes Grace in his arms.) 
 
 Happiness complete ! who can ask for more ? 
 
 (Carter and Arabella appear c. on steps.) 
 Carter. I can {stretches out hand). " Divy." 
 Arabella {throws her arms about his neck). My Grand 
 
 Panjodah ! 
 
 Slow Curtain. 
 
THE READING CLUB ANL* HANPY SPEAKER. jBeiug oeiec 
 tions in Prose and I'oetry, Serious, Humorous, I'atlietic, Patriotic, and 
 Dramatic, for Readings and liecitatione. Edited by George M. Baker. 
 Paper cover, fifteen cents each part. 
 
 CONTENTS OF READING-CLUB NO. 1. 
 
 At the Soldiers' Graves. 
 
 Battle-Hymn. 
 
 "Boofer Lady," The. 
 
 Bricklayers, The. 
 
 Bumpkin's Courtship, The. 
 
 Charles Sumner. 
 
 " Curfew must not ring To-night." 
 
 Closet Scene, The. (" Hamlet.") 
 
 Defiance of Harold the Dauntless. 
 
 Der Drummer. 
 
 Deutsch Maud MuUer, The. 
 
 Doorstep, The. 
 
 Factory -girl's Diary, The; 
 
 Farmer Bent's Sheep-washing. 
 
 Godiva. 
 
 " Good and Better." 
 
 Happiest Couple, The. (From the 
 
 " School for Scandal.") 
 Happy Life, The. 
 Hans Breitraann's Party. 
 Hour of Prayer, The. 
 How Terry saved his Bacon. 
 How He saved St. Michael's. 
 In the Tunnel. 
 Jakie on Watermelon-pickle. 
 Jester's Sermon, The. 
 " Joneft." 
 
 Mahmoud. 
 
 Mistletoe-Bough, The. 
 
 Mr. Caudle and his Second Wife. 
 
 Mr. O'Gallagher's Three Roads t« 
 
 Learning. 
 Nobody There. 
 Old Age. 
 
 Old Farmer Gray gets Photographed. 
 Old Methodist's Testimony, The. 
 Overthrow of Belshazzar. 
 Puzzled Census-Taker, The. 
 Popping the Question. 
 Red Jacket, The. 
 Rob Roy MacGregor. 
 Samson. 
 
 Senator's Pledge, The. 
 Showman's Courtship, The. 
 Squire's Story, The. 
 Story of the Bad Little Boy wh« 
 
 didn't come to Grief, The. 
 Story of the Faithful Soul, The. 
 Stranger in the pew, A. 
 Tauler. 
 
 Voices at the Throne, The. 
 Whistler, The. 
 Yankee and the Dutchman's Dog, 
 
 The. 
 
 Contents of Reading-Club No. 2. 
 
 Address of Spottycus. 
 
 Baby Atlas. 
 
 Baby's Soliloquy, A. 
 
 Beauty of Youth, The. 
 
 Biddy's Troubles. 
 
 Bobolink, The. 
 
 Broken Pitcher, The. 
 
 By the Alma River. 
 
 Calling a Boy in the Morning. 
 
 Cooking and Courting. 
 
 Curing a Cold. 
 
 Double Sacrifice, The. 
 
 Farm-yard Song. 
 
 Fortune-Hunter, The. 
 
 Goin' Home To-day. 
 
 Harry and I. 
 
 In the Bottom Drawer. 
 
 Last Ride, The. 
 
 Learned Negro, The. 
 
 Little Puzzler, The, 
 
 Man with a Cold in his Head, The. 
 
 Merchant of Venice, Trial Scene. 
 
 Modest Cousin, The. 
 
 Militia General, A. 
 
 «• }^^^^ar mv God. to Thee." 
 
 Old Ways and the New, The. 
 
 Opening of the Piano, The. 
 
 Our Visitor, and What He cwne for. 
 
 Over the River. 
 
 Paddock Elms, The. 
 
 Pickwickians on Ice, The. 
 
 Picture, A. 
 
 Press On. 
 
 Possession. 
 
 Quaker Meeting, The. 
 
 Queen Mab. 
 
 Rescue, The. 
 
 Shadow on the Wall, Thd. 
 
 Short Sermon, A. 
 
 Sisters, The. 
 
 Sunday Morning. 
 
 There is no Death. 
 
 Tobe's Monument. 
 
 Toothache. 
 
 Tragical Tale of the Tropics, A. 
 
 Traveller's Evening Song, A. 
 
 Two Anchors, The. 
 
 Two Irish Idyls. 
 
 What's the Matter with that Noa«? 
 
 Workers and Thinkers. 
 
Contents of Reading-Club No. 3. 
 
 Appeal in Behalf of American Lib- 
 erty. 
 
 Ambition. 
 
 Auction Mad. 
 
 Aurelia's Unfortunate Young Man. 
 
 Ballad of the Ovsterman, The. 
 
 Bob Cratciiit's Christmas-Dinner. 
 
 Bone and Sinew and Brain. 
 
 Bunker Hill. 
 
 Burial of the Dane, The. 
 
 Church of the Best Licks, The. 
 
 Oouutess and the Serf, The. 
 
 Deck-Hand and the Mule, The. 
 
 Evils of Ignorance, The. 
 
 First Snow-fall, The. 
 
 Flower-mission, Junior, The. 
 
 For Love. 
 
 Fra Giacomo. 
 
 How rersimraons took Cah ob der 
 Baby. 
 
 Jonesville Siiigin' Quire, The. 
 
 Last Tilt, The. 
 
 Lay of Real Life, A. 
 
 Law of Kindness, The. 
 
 Losses. 
 
 Mad Luce. 
 
 Minute-men of 75, The. 
 
 Mosquitoes. 
 
 Mr. Stiver's Horse. 
 
 Ode. 
 
 Old Fogy Man, The. 
 
 Pat and the Oysters. 
 
 Recantation of Galileo, The. 
 
 Roast Big. A Bit of Lamb. 
 
 Roman Soldier, The. 
 
 Riding down. 
 
 Schneider's Tomatoes. 
 
 School of Reform, Scenes from th*^ 
 
 Similia Similibus. 
 
 Singer, The. 
 
 Solemn Book- Agent, The. 
 
 Sons of New England, The. 
 
 Speech of the Hon. Perverse Peabody 
 
 on the Acquisition of Cuba. 
 Temperance. 
 Twilight. 
 
 Two Loves and a Life. 
 Two Births. 
 
 Uncle Reuben's Baptism, 
 Victories of Peace, The. 
 Wedding-Fee, The. 
 Wolves, The. 
 What the Old Man said. 
 
 Contents of Reading-Club No. 4. 
 
 Battle Flag of Sigurd, The. 
 ♦' Business " in Mississippi. 
 Bell of Atri, The. 
 Cane-bottomed Chair, The. 
 Cobbler's Secret, The. 
 Cuddle Doon. 
 Custer's Last Charge. 
 Daddy Worthless. 
 Decoration. 
 
 Dignity of Labor, The. 
 Elder Sniflae's Courtship. 
 Goin' Somewhere. 
 Grandfather. 
 
 He Giveth His Beloved Sleep. 
 Hot Roasted Chestnut, The. 
 House-top Saint, The. 
 ^•Hunchback," Scene from thei. 
 Indian's Claim, The. 
 Joan of Arc. 
 Leedle Yawcob Strauss. 
 Little Black-eyed Rebel, The. 
 Little Hero, The. 
 Little Shoe, A. 
 Lost Cats, The. 
 Hary Moloney's Philosophy. 
 
 Minot's Ledge. 
 
 Mother's Fool. 
 
 Mr. O'Hoolahan's Mistake. 
 
 Mr. Watkins celebrates. 
 
 My Neighbor's Baby. 
 
 Palmetto and the Pine, The. 
 
 Pip's Fight. 
 
 Post-Boy, The. 
 
 Pride of Battery B, The. 
 
 " Palace o' the King, The." 
 
 Paper don't Say, The. 
 
 Penny ye meant to gi'e, Tha. 
 
 Question, A. 
 
 Robert of Lincoln. 
 
 Song of the Dying, The. 
 
 St. John the Aged. 
 
 Tramp, The. 
 
 Tom. 
 
 Two Portraits. 
 
 Village Sewing Society, The. 
 
 Way Astors are Made, The. 
 
 What is a Minority? 
 
 Widder Green's Last Wor^ 
 
 William Tell. 
 
 Zeuobia'g Defence. 
 
fei^i^tiTS OF Reading-Club No. 5. 
 
 k Blessing on the Dance. 
 
 A Charge with Prince Rupert. 
 
 A Mysterious Disappearance. 
 
 Art-Matters in Indiana. 
 
 A Rhine Legend. 
 
 A Watch that " Wanted Cleaning." 
 
 An Exciting Contest. 
 
 An Indignation-Meeting. 
 
 An Irish Wake. 
 
 Ballad of a Baker. 
 
 Ballad of Constance. 
 
 Ballad of Ronald Clare. 
 
 Between the [.iaes. 
 
 Burdock's Goat. 
 
 Butterwick's Weaknesa. 
 
 Dot Baby off Mine, 
 
 Edith helps Things along. 
 
 Failed. 
 
 Faithful Little Peter. 
 
 Five. 
 
 From the Sublime to the Ridiculous. 
 
 Good-By. 
 
 " If We Knew." 
 
 Last Redoubt. 
 
 Moilie, or Sadie? 
 
 Noble Revenge. 
 
 Not Dead, but Risen. 
 
 " One of the Boys." 
 
 Scene from *• London Assurane*.* 
 
 Scene from " The Marble Heart." 
 
 Sideways. 
 
 Somebody's Mother. 
 
 Something Spilt. 
 
 Tact and Talent. 
 
 The Amateur Spelling-Match. 
 
 The Blue and Gray. 
 
 The Bridge. 
 
 The Canteen. 
 
 The Dead Doll. 
 
 The Flood and the Ark. 
 
 The Honest Deacon. 
 
 The Kaiser's Feast. 
 
 The Little Shoes did it. 
 
 The Scotchman at tiie Play. 
 
 The Seven Ages. 
 
 The Two Glasses. 
 
 Tired Mothers. 
 
 Uncle Remus's Revival Hymn. 
 
 Whistling in Heaven. 
 
 Why Biddy and Pat got Married. 
 
 Contents of Reading-Club No. 6. 
 
 A Disturbance in Church. 
 
 A Disturbed Parent. 
 
 A Christmas Carol. 
 
 A Miracle. 
 
 ♦' A Sweeter Revenge." 
 
 An Irish Love-Letter. 
 
 Behind Time. 
 
 Blind Ned. 
 
 Cavalry Charge, The. 
 
 Clerical Wit. 
 
 " Conquered at Last." 
 
 Count Eberhard's Last Fcay. 
 
 Deaf and Dumb. 
 
 Der Shoemaker's Poy. 
 
 Down with the Heathen Chinee! 
 
 Fight at Lookout. 
 
 Fireman's Prayer. 
 
 Greeley's Ride. 
 
 Great Future. 
 
 Immortality. 
 
 Joe's Bespeak. 
 
 John Chinaman's Protest. 
 
 Jim Lane's Last Message. 
 
 Mr. Coville ^.-oves Mathematics. 
 
 HaUonallty. 
 
 One Touch of Nature. 
 
 Paddy O'Rafther. 
 
 Putty and Varnish. 
 
 Reserved Power. 
 
 Ship-Boy's Letter. 
 
 Sweet Singer of Michigan. 
 
 Tacking Ship off Shore. 
 
 Tammy's Prize. 
 
 Talk about Shooting. 
 
 Ten Years after. 
 
 The Benediction. 
 
 The Changed Cross. 
 
 The Fan Drill. 
 
 The Farmer's Story. 
 
 The Fountain of Youth. 
 
 The King's Kiss. 
 
 The Palmer's Vision. 
 
 The Sergeant of the Fiftieth. 
 
 The Well -Digger. 
 
 " Them Yankee Blankits." 
 
 They Met. 
 
 Virginius to the Roman Army. 
 
 Warning to Woman. 
 
 Weaving the Web. 
 
 Widow Stebbins on Homoeopathy. 
 
Contents of Reaj[^ing-Club No. 7. 
 
 A College Widow. 
 
 A Free Seat. 
 
 A Humorous Dare-Devil. 
 
 All's Well that ends WelL 
 
 A London Bee Story. 
 
 A Modern Heroine. 
 
 A Modern Sermon. 
 
 A Reminiscence. 
 
 A Royal Princess. 
 
 Ave Maria. 
 
 Civil War. 
 
 Creeds of the Bells. 
 
 " Dashing Rod," Trooper. 
 
 Down Hill with the Brakes off. 
 
 Drawing Water. 
 
 Family Portraits. 
 
 Fool's Prayer. 
 
 Greatest Walk on Record. 
 
 Hannibal at the A Itar. 
 
 " He giveth His Beloved Sleep." 
 
 Hohen linden. 
 
 How Neighbor Wilkins got Reliftion. 
 
 How Randa went over the Rive; « 
 
 Irish Boy and Priest. 
 
 Jimmy Butler and the Owl. 
 
 Jim Wolfe and the Cats. 
 
 l«8t Hymn. 
 
 Left Alone at Eighty. 
 
 Maud's Misery. 
 
 National Game. 
 
 New Dixie. 
 
 On the Channel-Boat. 
 
 Ori'>nt Yourself. 
 
 Paddle Your Own Canoo. 
 
 Patriot Spy. 
 
 Pledfe to the Dead. 
 
 Pomo'ogical Society. 
 
 Rhym 's at Random. 
 
 San Benito. 
 
 St. Leoa's Toast. 
 
 That C»\f. 
 
 The Car^^enter'8 Wooing, and tte 
 
 Sequel 
 The Deac Student. 
 The Ladie*. 
 The Pin. 
 The Retof* 
 The Singei ' Alms. 
 This Side and That. 
 Two Fishers. 
 Uncle Mellick dines with his Master. 
 
 Contents of Reading-Clup ^(^ 8. 
 
 A iJrick. 
 
 A Colored Debating Society. 
 
 Along the Line. 
 
 A New Version of the Parable of the 
 
 Virgins. 
 An Evangel. 
 Annie's Ticket. 
 Apples — A Comedy. 
 A Sermon for the Sisters. 
 A Thirsty Boy. 
 Aunt Phillis's Guest. 
 Ballad of the Bell-Tower. 
 •• Christianos ad Leones ! " 
 City Man and Setting Hen. 
 Daisy's Faith. 
 De 'Sperience ob Reb'rend Quacko 
 
 Strong. 
 Defence of Lucknow. 
 Dutch Security. 
 Fast Mail. 
 Father William. 
 From One Standpoint. 
 Girl of the Crisis. 
 Grave of the Greyhound. 
 Indian Warrior's Defence. 
 Labor is Worship. 
 
 Lanty Leary. 
 
 Last of the Sarpints. 
 
 Legend of the Whit^ Hand. 
 
 London Zoological Gardens. 
 
 Masked Batteries. 
 
 Miss Edith's Modest R&y '4St. 
 
 Mrs. Brown at the Play. 
 
 Old Grimes. 
 
 People will laugh. 
 
 Peril of the Mines. 
 
 Parody on «' Father William." 
 
 Patter of the Shingle. 
 
 Paul Clifford's Defence. 
 
 Shiftless Neighbor Ball. 
 
 Song of the Mystic. 
 
 The Baron's Last Banquet. 
 
 The Captive. 
 
 The Dilemma. 
 
 The Divorce Feast. 
 
 "The Farmer and the Barrister* 
 
 The Man with a Bear. 
 
 The Story of the Tiles. 
 
 The Outlaw's Yarn. 
 
 The Rich Man and the Poor Mai 
 
 Two Dreams. 
 
 Yankee Courtship. 
 
THE GLOBE DRAMA. 
 
 Prle«, %S Cents each. 
 
 1. COUPON BONDS. A Drama in Four AcU. By J. 1. Troitbridok. 
 
 Dramatised from the story of that name. Seven male, three female 
 
 .naractere. Three scenes. Modern costumes. Easily produced. 
 «. UNDER A VEIIi. A Comedietta in One Act. By Sir Randall Roberts, 
 
 Bart. Two male, three female characters. Scene, interior. Double room. 
 
 Time in representation, thirty minutes. 
 .*». CL.ASS DAY. A Farce in One Act. By Dr. Francis A. Harris. Four 
 
 male, three female characters. Scene, interior. Played at Harvard with 
 
 great success. 
 
 4. BETTER THAN GOLD. A Drama in Four Acts. By Gkorge M. 
 Bakbr. Five male, four female characters. One interior; same for the 
 four acts. 
 
 6. MRS. WALTHROP'S BACHEIX)RS. A Comedy in Three Act« 
 Translated and adapted from the German of Benedix. By Georok M. 
 Baker and Willauu Small. (" Our Bachelors " and "Mrs. Walthrop's 
 Boarders " were translated from the same.) 
 
 6. OUR MUTUAIi FRIEND. A Comedy in Four Acts. Dramatised from 
 
 the novel by Charles Dickens. By Harriet R. Shattuck. Four male, 
 three female characters. 
 
 7. REBECCA'S TRIUMPH. A Drama in Three Acts. By George M. 
 
 # Baker. (For female characters only.) Sixteen characters. Scenes are : 
 Act 1, kitchen. Act 2, woods. Act 3, parlor. "Written at the request of 
 the " D.O.C, Cooking Club," of Chicago, who took "Among the Breakers " 
 as a model. 
 
 8. APPIiES. Comedy in One Act from Blackwood's Magazine. One male, two 
 
 female characters. 
 
 9. BABIE. Comedy in Three Acts. Translated from the French of Emile de 
 
 Najac and Alfred Hennquin, .y F. E. Ohase. Six male, five female 
 characters. 
 
 10. A PERSONAIi MATTER. Comedy in One Act. By i\ E. Chask. Two 
 
 male, and two female characters. 
 
 11. COMRADES. A Drama in Three Acts. By George M. Bakkr. Four 
 
 male, three female characters. Scene, interior. Costumefs raoderr 
 Always successful. 
 
 13. SNOW-BOUND. A Musical and Dramatic Entertainment. iJy George A 
 Baker. For three male and one female characters; requires some scenery, 
 but can be easily produced. Introduces congs, recitations, and an original 
 Burlesque, "Alonzo the Brave and the Fair Imogene." Time, two hours. 
 
 13. BON-BONS. A Musical and Dramatic Entertainment. By George M. 
 
 Baker. For four performers : three male, one female. Requires little 
 scenery; introduces songs, recitations, and an original Burlesque, "The 
 Paint King." Time in representation, two hours. 
 
 14. PAST REDEMPTION. A New Temperance Drama in Four Acts. By 
 
 George M. Baker. Nine male, and four female characters, anJ vet- 
 numeraries. Scenery : three interiors, one exterior. 
 
 15. NEVADA ; or, The Lost Mine. Drama, in Three Acts. By Georo^* ^ , 
 
 Baker. Eight male, three female characters. Scenery,, exterior and in- 
 ^ terior of a Miner's Cabin in Nevada. Time, about two hours. 
 
 16. POISON. A Farce, as acted by the Hasty i'udding Club of Harvard College 
 
 with great success. Four male, three female characters. Time, thirty 
 minutes. 
 
 17. THE COOL COLLEGIANS. Comedy iu Two .(ictB, by Miles Medic; 
 
 three wale and four female characters. 
 
 Price, 15 Cents. 
 
 18. LORDf; OF CREATION. A Comedy in Three Acts. By Ella Cheever 
 
 Thayer. Five male and five female characters. Scenes, interior. Price 15c. 
 
 19. MATCHMAKERS. A Comedietta iu One Act. Two male and two female 
 
 characters. Price, IScts. ^ „ „ ^ 
 
 «0. A HE GREAT UMBRELLA CASE; A Mock Trial. ByF. E. Chasx. 
 Fifth Edition just ready. Price, 15cts. 
 
 -% 
 
 WALTER H. BAKER & CO., 10 Milk Street, Boston. 
 
LIBKHKT ur v*UPioi\too 
 
 ..^»^^« di.^A« vr*Jvrw*ro. Drama in two 
 
 acts. 7 males, 4 females. 
 AMONG THE BREAKERS. Drama in 
 
 two acts. 6 males, 4 females. 
 BETTER THAN GOLD. Drama in four 
 
 acts. 5 males, 4 females. 25 CentS. 
 
 BON-BONS. Musical entertainment. 3 males, 
 
 I female. 25 CentS. 
 
 BOSTON DIP, THE. Comedietta in one 
 
 act. 4 males, 3 females. 
 BREAD ON THE WATERS. Drama in 
 
 two acts. 5 males, 3 females. 
 CAPULETTA. Burlesque in two parts. 3 
 
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 CHAMPION OF HER SEX, THE. Farce 
 
 in one act. 8 females. 
 
 CHRISTMAS CAROL, A. Christmas en- 
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 CLOSE SHAVE, A. Farce in one act. 6 
 males. 
 
 COALS OF FIRE. Farce in one act. 6 
 males. 
 
 COMRADES. Drama in three acts. 4 males, 
 
 3 females. 25 CentS. 
 DOWN BY THE SEA. Drama in two 
 
 acts. 6 males, 3 females. 
 DROP TOO MUCH, A. Farce in one act. 
 
 4 males, 2 females. 
 
 DUCHESS OF DUBLIN, THE. Farce in 
 
 one act. 6 males, 4 females. 
 ENLISTED FOR THE WAR. Drama in 
 
 three acts. 7 males, 3 females. 
 
 FAIRY OF THE FOUNTAIN, THE. 
 
 Play for children in two acts. 10 char. 25c. 
 
 FLOWER OF . THE FAMILY, THE. 
 
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 FLOWING BOWL, THE. Drama in three 
 
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 GENTLEMEN OF THE JURY. Farce 
 
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 o males. 
 
 GREATEST PLAGUE IN LIFE, THE. 
 
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 GRECIAN BEND, THE. Farce in one 
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 HUMORS OF THE STRIKE, THE. 
 
 Farce in one act. 8 males. 
 HYPOCHONDRIAC, THE. Farce in one 
 
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 LAST LOAF, THE. Drama in two acts 
 
 5 males, 3 females. 
 
 LIGHTHEART'S PILGRIMAGE. AUe- 
 
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 LITTLE BROWN JUG, THE. Drama in 
 
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 LITTLE MORE CIDER, A. Farce in one 
 
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 LOVE OF A BONNET, A. Farce in one 
 
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 MAN WITH THE DEMIJOHN, THE. 
 
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 MY BROTHER'S KEEPER. Drama in 
 
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 MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE, A. 
 
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 MY UNCLE THE CAPTAIN. Farce in 
 
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 NEVER SAY DIE. Farce in one act. 3 
 
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 NEVADA. Drama in three acts. 8 males, 3 
 
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 M. BAKER'S PLAYS. 
 
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 NEW BROOM SWEEPS CLEAN, A. 
 
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 NO CURE, NO PAY. Farce in one act. 7 
 
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 ONCE ON A TIME. Drama in two acts. 
 
 4 males, 2 females. 
 
 ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. Drama 
 
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 ORIGINAL IDEA, AN. Dialogue for a 
 
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 OUR FOLKS. Drama in three acts. 6 males, 
 
 5 females. 
 
 PADDLE YOUR OWN CANOE. Farce 
 
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 PAST REDEMPTION. Drama in four 
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 PRECIOUS PICKLE, A. Farce in one 
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 REBECCA'S TRIUMPH. Drama in three 
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 RED CHIGNON, THE. Farce in one act. 
 
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 REVOLT OF THE BEES, THE. Mu- 
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 RUNAWAYS, THE. Farce in one act. 4 
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 SANTA CLAUS' FROLICS. Christmas 
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 SCULPTOR'S TRIUMPH, THE. Alle- 
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 SEA OF TROUBLES, A. Farce in one 
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 SEEING THE ELEPHANT. Temper- 
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 SEVEN AGES, THE. Tableau entertain- 
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 SHALL OUR MOTHERS V0TE1 Hu- 
 
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 TENDER ATTACHMENT, A. Farce in 
 
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 THIEF OF TIME, THE. Farce in one 
 
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 THIRTY MINUTES FOR REFRESH- 
 
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 TITANIA. Play for children in two acts. 
 Many char. 25 CentS. 
 
 TOO LATE FOR THE TRAIN. Dialogue 
 
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 TOURNAMENT OF IDYL WENT, THE. 
 
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 VISIONS OF FREEDOM. Allegory for 
 
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 USING THE WEED. Farce in one act. 
 
 7 females. 
 
 WANTED, A MALE COOK. Farce in 
 
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 WAR OF THE ROSES. Allegory for 8 
 
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 WE'RE ALL TEETOTALERS. Farce in 
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