NO PLAYS EXCHANGED- 1 a t h /, ^ /.} GENTLEMAN FROM IDAHO. Price, 15 Cents. MEYER'S CELEBRATED GREASE PAINTS. We are now prepared to furnish a full line of Grease Paints of the celebrated make of Charles Meyer, at the manufacturer's price. These paints are acknowledged by- professionals to be the best, and are in general use in our theatres. Compared to tlie old method of using powders, these paints are far superior, as they impart a clearer and more life-like appearance to the skin, and, being- of a greasy nature, cannot easily be affected by perspiration. We can supply the following necessary colors, put up in a neat box, with full directions for use, viz. : Light Flesh, Dark Flesh, Brown, Black, Lake, White, Carmine, and Slate. Price, $1.00. We have also the following extra colors : — NO. NO. NO. 1. Very pale Flesh Color. 6. Healthy Sunburned, for 11. Ruddy, for old age. 3. Light Flesh, deeper tint. juvenile heroes. 12. Olive, healthy. 3. Natural Flesh Color, for 7. Healthy Sunb'ned, deep- 13. Olive, lighter shade. ■ juvenile heroes. er shade. 14. Gypsy flesh color. 4. Rosy Tint, for juvenils 8. Sallow, for young men. 15. Othello. heroes. 9. Healthy Color, for mid- 16. Chinese. 5. Deeper shade, for juve- die ages. 17. Indian. nile heroes. lo. Sallow, for old age. 18. East Indian. Done up in sticks of four inches in length, at 25 cents each. Any other colot made to order. LINING COLORS: Brown, Black, Lake, and White, 15 cents each. Carmine and AVhite, large sticks, 25 cents each. MEYER'S WELL-KNOWN FACE PREPARATIONS. Justly recommended by the profession as being the besi. CREAM EXORA. — In large china pots. A very fine preparation for beauti- fying the complexion, in different shades, as follows : No. i, White; No 3, Tint of Rose; No. 3, Darker Shade (brunette). 50 and 75 cents per box. ADHESIVE POWDER. —For sticking on Mustaches, Whiskers, etc. Price, 25 cents per box. COCOA BUTTER. — For removing grease paint. Large pieces, 25 cents. DORIN'S { %f^^^ ii S||tre. } p,.,,^ 3, ,,,,, ,,,h. liAKER'S SMOKE POTS. — Having considerable call for an article for making smoke for fire scenes, etc., we have made an-angements with the pyro- technist of the Boston Theatre to supply us -with the best article for that purpose; we can now furnish smoke pots, entirely free from stench and producing a thick white smoke, in two sizes, at 35 and 50 cents each. BAKER'S BLACK OPERA CORK. —For Ethiopian Singers and Actors. 4O cents per box. BAKER'S TABLEAU LIGHTS.-Ked, Green, and White. Price, 35 cents each. These lights are put up especially for our trade, and cannot be excelled for brilliancy. They burn with as little smol;e as any preparation for lilc purpose. The white is especially brilliant, rivalling the magnesimn light in intensity. We have the above solidified for mailing purposes, enough for three lights in a pack- age, at the same price. The Tableau Lights will be sold in bulk, put up in tin boxes, not less than half a pound of a color, at $1.50 per pound ; sent only by express. We can furnish any of the articles advertised in the catalogues of other publishers of plays, at list prices. A GENTLEMAN FROM IDAHO IN PROLOGUE AND THREE ACTS ^ !li 1 18R9 ,, -./,,., --rO^». BOSTON ^::^^zAi^A/x^t^i£^jtip 1889 / a/ CHARACTERS. GiLEAD P. Beck ....... Co7nedy Laurence Colquhoun ..... L€adi?ig Jack Dunquerque ...... JuveiiiLe Cornelius Jage:tal Character Humphrey Jagenal ..'.... Character Gabriel Cassilis ist Old Man Captain Ladds 2d Old Man Lee Cuing 2d Heaxj Phillis Fleming Ingenue Mrs. Cassilis Leadimr Copyright, iSSg, by Walter H. Dakek & Co. TMPS2-009285 A GENTLEMAN FROM IDAHO. PROLOGUE. Scene. — Empire City. A deserted mining-town. A row of dilapidated shanties in perspective at back. A two- story shanty L. set cornering from L. to C. of stage, at back. Wood wings R. Mountains at b.rck, with sun about an hour high. Sun to set during scene., and the sky to glow after the sun is down. Broken sho"jels lying about with other discarded and ruined property. Grass growing up around the deserted sJianties. Jack, (^speaking outside, R.). What do you think, chief? Capt. Ladds. Push on. {Enter, K. i E., Ronald Dun- QUKKQUE (Jack) andQ.KVT. Ladds.) Jack. If you were not so intolerably conceited about the value of your words, — hang it, min, you are not the Poet- Laureate ! — you might give your reasons why we should not camp where we are. The sun will be down in an hour ; the way is long, the wind is cold, or will be soon. This pilgrim has tightened his belt to stave off the gnawing at his stomach. Here is running water, here is wood, here is shelter, here is everything calculated to charm the poetic mind even of Cap- tain Ladds — Ladds {pointing l.). Road! Roads lead to places; places have beds; beds are warmer than grass; no rattle- snakes in beds ; miners in hotels — amusing fellows, miners. Deserted here. Too much ventilation. Jack. If ever I go out again after buffaloes, or bears, or mountain deer, or any other game whatever, which this great continent offers, with a monosyllabic man. may I be con- demned to another two months of buffalo-steak without Worcester sauce, such as I have had already ; may I be poi- soned with bad Bourbon whiskey : may 1 never again see the sweet shady side of Pall Mall ; may I — {Looking sud' deftly R. u. E.) be blowed, what's that ? Ladds {after a momenfs pause). Man. Jack. What's he running for.'' Ladds. Think Jitcely he's in a hurry. Jack. Hello, there's a Grizzly after him. Ladds. Right. A procession of two. Jack {bringino^ his rijie Jtp). I'll soon settle him. Ladds {knocking up the rifle). Man in line. Walt. That bear means claws. Jack. Tommy, I can cover him now. Ladds. Wait, Jack. Dont miss. Give Grizzly two min- utes more. God ! how the fellow scuds. Jack. See how Grizzly holds his great head down and wags it from side to side. Now, Tommy. Ladds. Give Grizzly two minutes. Jack. Only fifty yards ; the man looks over his shoulder ; forty yards. Ladds. Getting pumped. Mustn't let Grizzly claw the poor devil. Jack. Let me bring him down, Tommy? Ladds. Bring him down, young un. Let him have it. (Jack fires. Bear roars. Beck, outside, shrieks) Good, young un. He's down. Up again. Only wounded. Wait. {Briiigs rifle siiddenly to shoulder and fires. Beck 7'ushes on stage fro?n K. 3 E., aiid falls ^ exhausted., C. The bear falls deadjiist on at the entrance^ Grizzly's dead. {Drops rifle, and p2ills out knife ) Steak. Jack. No. Skin. Let me take his skin. You can cut some steaks after. Now for the man. {Goes to Beck.) Now, old man. Might as well sit up, you know, if you can't stand. Bruin's gone to the happy hunting-grounds. Beck. {Gradually recovers, and allows them to assist him to his feet. He has a thin, patchy, irregular beard. Moccasins. Trousers all worn, and greasy, and ragged. Tattered flannel shirt ; right arm of shirt nearly gone, showing a tattooed limb. No butto7is on garment. Tliorjis instead. T^ed cotton handkerchief around his neck, and soft round felt hat, pinned up in front with a tJiorn. Small wooden box around neck, fastened by a steel cliaiji. No weapons. He stares aroiuid ; stretches ; shakes himself and looks around, seeing the bear. Then goes to him, and, after looking at liim a moment, pats his head, and remarks :) I sympathize with you, Grizzly, for your bad run of luck. {I'o Jack ««(^ Ladds.) A'near thing. Since I've been in this doggoned country, I've had one or two near things, but this was the nearest. Jack. Rather close. Beck. And which of you gentlemen was good enough to shoot the critter? (Ladds indicates Jack. Beck takes ojf his hat, and extends hand.') Sir, I don't kn'ow your name, and you don't know mine. If you did, you wouldn't be mucii happier, becau.se it is not a striking name. If you'll oblige me, sir, by touching that {indicatin^^ hand), we shall be brothers. All that's mine shall be yours. I do not ask you, sir, to reciprocate. All that's mine, sir, when I get anything, shall be yours. At present, sir, there is nothing; but I've luck behind me. Shake hands, sir. Once a mouse helped a lion, sir. It's in a book. I am the mouse, sir, and you are the lion. Sir, my name is Gilead P. Beck. Jack. I only fired the first shot. My friend here — Ladds. No. Won't have it. First shot disabled — hunt finished then — Grizzly out of the running. Glad you're not clawed — unpleasant to be clawed. Young un did it. No thanks. Tell us where we are ? Beck. This was Patrick's Camp, since called Empire City. The pioneers of '49 could tell you a good deal about Patrick's Camp. It was here that Patrick kept his store. In those old days, — they're gone now, — if a man wanted to buy a blanket, that article, sir, was put into one scale and weighed down with gold-dust in the other. Same with a pair of boots ; same with a pound of raisins. Patrick miglit have died rich, sir, but he didn't, — none of the pioneers did, — -so he died poor; and died in his boots, too, — like most of the lot. Jack. Not much left of the camp. Beck. No, sir, not much. The mine gave out. Then they moved up the hills, where I conclude you gentlemen .are on your way. Prospecting, likely. I was trying to find my way here when I met with old Grizzly. Perhaps if I'd let him alone, he'd have let me alone. But I blazed at him, and, sir, I missed him ; then he shadowed me, and the old rifle's gone at last. Jack. How long did the chase last 1 Beck I should say, sir, forty days and forty nights, or near about. And you gentlemen are going — Jack. 'We are going anywhere. Perhaps, for the present, you had better join us. Beck. Perhaps I better had. I ought first, though, to sit down and cry like a girl on the prairie. Jack. "Why ought you to cry 'i Beck. I guess I ought to cry because I've lost my rifle, and everything except my Luck, in that darned long stern- chase. Jack. You can epsil)- get a new rifle. Beck. With dollars. A.s for them, ihere's not a dollar left — nary a red cent ; only my Luck. Jack. And what is your Luck .'' Bhck. That I will tell you by and by. Perhaps it's your Luck, too, young boss. Ladds. What do you know about this place .'' Beck. Empire City ? Ladds. I see a city — can't see the people. Beck. All gone. City's busted up. When I first sot eyes on Empire City, two years ago, it was just two years old. It is only in our country that a great city springs up in a day. I said to myself then, sir. Empire City is bound to advance ; Empire City will be the Chicago of the West. Five years ago th.re was ten tl;Ousand n^.iners here; now there isn't one ; nothing but a Chinaman or two. Jack. How do you know there are Chinamen? Beck. See those stones? (^Poiniing 'l.) Jack. Yes. Beck. Tiie miners picked the bones of those rocks, but they never pick quite clean. Then the Chinamen come and finish off. Gentlemen, its a speci:il Providence that \ou picked me up. I don't allorether admire the way in which that special Providence was played up to, in the matter of the bar ; but a Christian, without a revolver, alone among twenty Chinamen — {Shrieks his shoulders sii^nijicantly^ gentlemen, they'd have got my Luck. Jack {to Ladds). Ciiief, I don't like it. It's ghostly. It's a town of dead men. As soon as it is dark, the "hosts will rise and walk about — play billiards, I expect. What shall we do .'' Ladds. Late. Hotel. Sleep on floor — sit on chairs — eat off a table. Beck. I'll reconnoitre. {Goes into hotel, L. 4.) Jack (/^ Ladds). What do you make of him .'' Ladds. Yankee. Honest. Good fellow. Trust him. Jack. Good. I'm glad you like him, for I have taken to him immensely. Ladds. Acquisition. Help against Chinainen. Sh! {Re- enter Beck.) Well 1 Beck. Wal, sir, the bar is left standing ; the glasses are there ; bright-colored bottles ; t■«^ o or three Hourbon whiskey kegs ; counter ; dice on tlie counter ; everything there except the drink. Everything gone but tiie fixins. There used to be good beds where there wasn't more'n two or three at once in 'em; and there used to be such a crowd around this bar as you wouldn't find neir'n St Louis city. Jack. Hush. There are steps inside tlie hotel. Beck. Chinamen, likely. If there's a row, gentlemen, give me something, if it's only a toothpick, to chime in with. But that's not a Chinese step ; that's an Englishman. He wears boots, but they're not miner's boots ; he walks fine and slow, like all Englishmen ; he is not in a hurry like our folk. And who but an Englisliman would be found staying behind in the Empire City when it's gone to pot ! Jack. Who, indeed ! Most unhandsome of a ghost, though, to walk before midnight. (Laurence Colquhoun enters frojH hotel, L. 4.) Beck. Told you lie was an Englishman. Lau. {Light thin boots. Flannel shiTt with red silk belt. Blanket thrown back from his shoulders. Broad felt hat.) Englishmen, I see. Ladds. Yes. Lau. You have probably lost 3'our way ? Ladds. Been liunting. Working round — San Fran- cisco. Followed track ; accident ; got here. Your hotel perhaps ? Fine situalion, but lonely. Jack. Not a gliost, tiien. Lau. I may be able to make you comfortable for the night. You see my den. 1 came here a year or so ago — by accident, like yourselves. 1 found the place deserted. I liked the solitude, the scenery, wliatever you like, and I stayed here. You are the only visitors I have had for a year. Beck. Chinamen.'' Lau. Well, Chinamen, of course. But only two of them. Tliey take turns at forty dollars a month to cook my dinners. And there is a half caste who does not mind running down to S.icramento when I want anything. And so you see I m ike out j^rettv well. {Puts whistle to lips and blows.) You shall see. (Lee Ching appears from hotel coining down L. c ) Dinner as soa:i as you can. Lee Ching. Ayah ! Can do What time you wantchee ? Lau. As so:)i as you can. Half an hour. Lee Ching. Can do. My no have got cully-powder. Have makee finish. Have got. Lau. Look for so.ne ; make Achow help Lee Ching. Hjwcan? Ni b'long his pidgin. He no helpee. B'loig my piigin, makee cook chow chow. Ayah ! Achow have go makee cheat over Melican man. Makee plav cards all s ime, euchre. {Exit into hotel.) Ladd.s. Beg pardon. Should have seen. Made remark about hotel. Apologize. Jack. He nie.uis that he was a terrible great fool not to see that you rre a gentleman. (Ladds nods.) Let me intro- duce our party. This is our esteemed friend Mr. Gilead P. Beck, whom we caught in a bear-hunt — Beck. B'ar behind. Jack. This is Capt. Ladds of the 35th Dragoons. Ladds. Ladds. Nibs, cocoa-nibs, — pure aroma — best breakfast digester — blessing to mothers — perfect fragrance. Jack. His name is Ladds, and he wishes to communi- cate to you the fact that he is the son of the man who made an immense fortune — immense, Tommy? Ladds. Immense. Jack. By a crafty compound known as " Ladds' Patent Anti-dyspept c Cocoa." My name is Ronald Dunquerque. People generally call me Jack. I don't know why, but they do. (Lee Ching a?id Achow enter., bringing a rotigh table, which they place c. Then hnrry back and bring dishes, etc.) Lau. (^shaking hands with Ladds). One of ours. My name is Laurence Colquhoun. I sold out before you joined. I came here, as you see. And now, gentlemen, 1 think I hear the first sounds of dinner. Lee Ching, bring the cliampagne from behind the curtain. Achow, claret. {They go ojf after these, and instantly return with them.) I think they have laid such a table as the wilderness can boast. Not alto- gether what a man might order at the Junior United, but it will do. Here is venison, curry, mountain quail, and there is claret, and champagne, both good, especially die claret. Last, but not least, there is coffee. Now, gentlemen, to your places. No ceremony. {They sit. JuAVK'E.kck at the head. Beck l. Ladds next to Laurence, r., and Jack nearest the a7idience, R.) Help yourselves. Beck. Sir, we will. Lau. Claret ? Jack. If you please. Lau. And you .^ (7i7BECK.) Beck. Don't care if I do, seein' it's you. Lau. And you ? {To Ladds.) Ladds. Yes, sir. Lau. Here's a health to merrie England. Beck. And death to b'ars. {All rise and drink.) Lau. Four years since 1 left England. Jack. But you will come back to it again ? Lau. I think not. Jack. Better. Much better. Robinson Crusoe always wanted to get home again. So did Selkirk. So did Philip Quarles. Lau. Not so Laurence Colqiihoun. Beck {faking bo v from neck and placino it on table). Let me tell you, gentlemen, the story of my Luck. I was in Sonora City, after the worst three months I ever had ; and I went around trying to borrow a few dollars. I got not dol- lars, but I got free drinks — so many free drinks that at last I lay down in the street and went to sleep. Wal, gentlemen, I suppose I walked in that slumber of mine, for when I woke up, I was lying a mile outside the town. I also entertained angels unawares, for at my head there sat an Indian woman. She was as wrinkled an old squaw as ever shrieked at a buryin'. liut she took an interest in me. She took that amount of interest in me that she told me that she knew of gold. And then she led me by the hand, gentlemen, that aged and affectionate old squaw, to a place not far from the roadside ; and there, lying between two rocks, and hidden in the chapparel, glittering in the light, was this bauble. {Tapphig the box.) I didn't want to be told to take it. I wrapped it in my handkerchief, and carried it in my hand. Then she led me back to the road again. "Bad luck you will have," she said, " but it will lead to good luck, so long as that is not broken, sold, given away, or lost." Then she left me, and here it is. Bad luck I hai^e had. Look at me, gentlemen. Adam was not more destitute when the garden gates were shut on him. But the good will come somehow. {Opejis box, and reinoi'es the butterfly.) Jack. A golden butterfly. Beck A golden butterfly. No goldsmith made this but- terfly. It came from nature's workshop. It is my Luck. Jack. And if the butterfly fall and break. Farewell the Luck of Gi':ead Beck. Beck. Thank you, sir. That's very neat. I'll take that, sir, if you will allow me, for my motto, unless you want it for yourself. Jack. No, I have one already. Beck. " If this golden butterfly fall and break. Farewell the Luck of Gilead P. Beck." If you are going on, gentlemen, to San Francisco, I hope you will take me with you. Jack, With pleasure. Beck. Thank you. Do any of you happen to have a bit of paper about you ? Ladds. Here's a bit of newspaper. Beck. Good. Just the thing. {Takiitg piece of paper^ No good, is it.^ {Looking it over.) Ladds. Not the least. Colquhoun, you do not mean to stay on here by yourself? Much better come with us, unless — Lau. No, I shall remain. Beck. Hullo, Victoria's married again. Jack. Not the Queen? Beck. I don't know, it's a Victoria. Lau. Victoria ? Beck {reading from paper^. " On April 3d, by the Right Rev. the Lord Bishop of Turk's Island, at St. George's, Hanover Square, Gabriel Cassilis, of etc., to Victoria, daugh- ter of the late Admiral Sir Benbow Pengelly, K. C. B." Lau. Let me see that, please. {Takes paper.) I think I will go with you. Jack. Hear, hear ! Selkirk returns to the sound of the church-going bell. Curtain. ACT I. Scene. — Parlor of Gabriel Cassilis, Hanover Square. Piano, R. Ottoman, c. So/a, L. CJiairs, etc. Gabriel Cassilis, r. Humphrey and Cornelius Jagenal on sofa, L. Phillis Fleming and Mrs. Cassilis on otto- man, c. Jack Dunquerque, r., standing leaning on piano. AIL discovered. Mr. Cassilis. Then you do not like Bollinger, Miss Fleming .'' Phillis. It is a little too dry for me. Mr. C. You lived a very quiet life with your guardian at Highgate .'' Phil. Yes, very quiet. Only two or three gentlemen ever came to the house, and I never went out. Cornelius. A fair prisoner, indeed. Danae in her tower waiting for the shower of gold. Phil. Danae must have wished when she was put in the box and sent to sea that the shower of gold had never come. Humphrey. At least, you went out to see the Academy, and the water-colors ? Phil. I have never seen a picture-gallery at all. I have not once been outside Mr. Dyson's grounds until a week ago, since I was six years old. Cor. You found your pleasure in reading divine poetry, perhaps in writing poetry yourseh ? Phil. Oh, dear, no. I have not yet learned to read. Mr. Dyson said that ladies ought not to learn reading till they are of an a'j;e when acquiring that mischievous art can- not hurt themselves or their fellow-creatures. Mr. C. You were taught other things, however? Phil. Yes, I learned to play. My master came twice a week, and I can play pretty well ; I play either by ear or by memory. You see I never forget anything that I am told. Mrs. Cassilis. Can it be. Miss Fleming, that you never went outside of the house at all ? Phil. Oh, no. I could ride in the paddock. It was a good large field, and my pony was clever at jumping, so I got on pretty well. Jack. Would it be too much to ask you how you — how you got through the day ? Phil. Not at all. It was very eas}'. I had a ride before breakfast; gave Mr. Dyson his tea at ten ; talked with him till twelve ; we always talked subjects, you know, and had a regular course. When \\e had done talking he asked me questions. Then I probably had another ride before lunch- eon. In the afternoon 1 played, looked after my dress, and drew. Humph. You are, then, an artist! Cornelius, I saw from the first that Miss Fleming had the eye of an artist. Phil. I do not know about that. I can draw people. I will show you some of my sketches to-morrow. They are all heads and figures. I shall draw all of you to-night before going to bed. Jack. And in the evening ? Phil. Mr. Dyson dined at seven. Sometimes he had one or two gentlemen to dine \Nith him; never any lady. When there was no one we talked subjects again. Mr. C. Gentlemen, shall we try a cigar on the veranda? The ladies will excuse us, 1 dare say.'' Mrs. C. Certainly. {The gentle7iien go on to I'eranda attack. Mrs QP'^'&'iMA'a goes v.. to j^inno.) Cor. {as he is going, approaches Phillis confidentially). You are watching my brother Humpiirey. Study him. Miss Fleming; it will repay you well to know that child-like and simple nature, innocent of the world, and aglow with the flame of genius. {Goes tip C.) Phil. I think I can draw him, now. Humph, {coming to Phillis in like manner'). I see your eyes turned upon my brother Cornelius. He is a great, a noble fellow. Miss Fleming. Cultivate him, talk to him, learn from him. You will be very glad some day to be able to boast that you have met my brother Cornelius ; lo know him is a privilege ; to converse with him, an education. {Goes up C.) Mrs. C. {returning to Phillis). We used to think, until Mr. DysOn died and bis preposterous will was read, that his eccentric behavior was partly your fault. But when we found that he had left you nothing, of course we felt that we had done you an involuntary wrong. Phil. I had plenty of money ; why should poor Mr. Dyson want to leave me any more '^ Mrs. C. Forty thousand pounrls a year ! and all j^cAn^ to female education. Not respectable I'eniaL' education, either. Phil. Am I not respectable .'' Mrs. C. My dear child, }ou cannot even re.iil and write. Phil. That is quite true. Mrs. C. Ikit everybody Icarn.s to read and write. All the Sunday-school children,- e\cn, know how to read and write. Phil. Perhaps that is a misi'ortune for the Sunday-school children. It would very likely be better for the Sunday- school children were tliey taught more use.ul thinii;s. Mrs. C. Miss P^lemi g, I am ten years older than you, and if you will only trust me, I will give you such advice and assistance as I can. Phil. You are very kind. If you will only tell me of my deficiencies, I will try to repair them. Mrs. C. Then let us consider. Of course you are quite ignorant of things that people talk about. Books are out of the question. Music and concerts; art and pictures; china — perhaps Mr. Dyson collected ? Phil. No. Mrs. C. a pity. China would be a great help. The opera and theatres ; balls and dancing. Perhaps you can fall back upon church matters. Are you a Ritualist ? Phil. What is that ? Mrs. C. My dear girl, did you actually never go to church ? Phil. No. Mr. Dyson used to read prayers every day. Why should people go to church, when they pray ? Mrs. C. Why? Why? Because people in society all go ; because you must set an example to the lower orders. Dear me, it is very shocking, and girls are all expected to take such an interest in religion. You can draw? Phil. I draw a little. Not so well, of course, as girls brought up respectably. Mrs. C. Pardon me, my dear Miss Fleming, if I say that sarcasm is not considered good style. Phil. I don't understand. I say what I think, and you tell me 1 am sarcastic. Mrs. C. Girls in society never say what they think. Phil. I looked at the girls yesterday as we drove through the streets. Some of them were walking like this. {Rises and imitates.') Then there were others who walked like this. {Imitates^ Then there were b&ys. I never dreamed of such a lot of boys. And they were all whistling. This was the tune. {Whistles.) Mrs. C. (risi/ig). My dear, dear, dear girl, you must not whistle. Phil. Is it wrong to whistle ? Mrs. C. Not morally wrong, I suppose, but it is far worse, Phillis, far worse — it is unspeakably vulgar. Phil. Oh, I am so sorry. Mrs. C. You have an excellent figure, a very pretty and attractive face, winning eyes, and a taste in dress which only wants cultivation, and that we will begin to-morrow at Mel- ton and Mowbray's. Phil. Oh, yes, that will be delightful. I have never seen a shop yet. {Goes up to Jack, c.) Mrs. C. {in amazement). She — has — never — seen — a — shop. That a girl of nineteen should be able to say she has never seen a shop ! {Goes tip c, and joins Mr. Cassilis and others. Cornelius and Humphrey come down l.) Humph. Cornelius, she- has fifty thousand pounds. Cor. She has, brother Humphrey. Humph. It's a pity, Cornelius, that we, who have only two hundred pounds a year each, are already fifty years of age. Cor. Humphrey, what age do we feel ? Humph. Thirty — not a month more. {St7-iking at the ail- with bothjists.') Cor. Right. Not an hour above thirty. {Striking chest, which causes him to coiigh.') Something definite should be attempted, Humphrey. Humph. You mean, brother — Cor. I mean, Humphrey — Humph. With regard to — Cor. With regard to Phillis Fleming. Humph. She is, she is indeed a charming girl. Her out- line is finely but firmly drawn ; her coloring delicate, but strongly accentuated ; the grouping to which she lends her- self always differentiated artistically; her single attitudes de- signed naturally and with freedom ; her flesh tints remark- ably pure and sweet ; her draperies falling in artistic folds ;• her atmosphere softened as by the perfumed mists of morn- ing ; her hair tied in the simple knot which is the admiration and despair of many painters ; — ^ you agree with my render- ing, brother Cornelius, my rendering of this incomparable work ? Cor. She is all that you say, Humphrey. From your standpoint nothing could be better. I judge her, however, from my own platform. 1 look on her as one of nature's sweetest poems ; such a poem as defies the highest effort of the greatest creative genius ; where the cadenced lines are sunht, and, as they ripple on, make music in your soul. You are rapt with their beauty ; you are saddened with the unapproacliable magic of her charm ; you feel the deepest emotions of the heart awakened, and beating in responsive harmony. And when, after long and patient watching, the searcher after the truth of beauty feels each verse sink deeper and deeper within him, till it becomes a part of his own nature, there arises before him. clad in mystic and trans- parent Coan robe, the spirit of subtle wisdom, long lying perdu in those magic utterances. She is a lyric ; she is a sonnet ; she is an epigram — Humph. At least, she doesn't carry a sting. Cor. Then let us say an idyl. But let us see what had better be done. Humph. We must act at once, Cornelius. Cor. We understand each other, Humphrey. We always do. ( Winking knowingly.) Humph. We must make our own opportunity. Not to- gether, but separately. Cor. Surely separately. Together would never do. Humph. Have you — did you — can you give me any of your own experiences in this way, Cornelius ? Cor. 1 may have been wooed. Men of genius are always run after. But as I am a bachelor, you see, it is clear that I never proposed. Humph. When I was in Rome — Cor. When I was in Heidelberg — Humph. There was a model — a young artist's model — Cor. There was a little country girl — Humph. With the darkest eyes, and hair of a deep blue black, the kind of color one seems only to read of, or to see in a picture. Cor. With blue eyes, as limpid as the waters of the Neckar, and light brown hair, which caught the sunshine in a way that one seldom seems to see, but which we poets some- times sing of. Humph. Cornelius, I think that Phillis would not like these reminiscences. We must offer virgin hearts. Cor. True, brother, we must. Humph. Yet the recollection is not unpleasant. (^Sig/is.) Cor. We are not nervous, brother ? Humph. Not at all, not at all. Still, to steady the system, perhaps — Cor. Yes, you are quite right, brotlier. We will. {They both drink, taking wine from decanter on side table.) Humph. What we need, Cornelius, what we need ; not what we wish for. {Fixes his tie, etc., in a nervojts 7nan7ier.) 1 will tell her you wish to speak with her. (Starts.) Cor. Wait a moment. My heart beats so. Slower, slower. Now, brother, 1 think I am prepared. (Humphrey £oes lip and speaks aside to Phillis, zuho motions towards Cornelius do%vn l. Humphrey nods. Phillis comes down R.) Phil. You wislied to say — Mr. Cornelius? Cor. Yes. Will you sit down. Miss Fleming;? Phil, {aside). He is going to tell me about the '• Upheav- ing of Alfred." ( To ///>;/.) And how does the workshop get on ? Cor. Fairly well. My brother Humphrey — a noble creature is Humphrey, Miss Fleming — Phil. Is he still hard at work ? Cor. His work is crushing him. Miss Fleming, — may I call you Phillis? Phil. Of course you may, Mr. Cornelius. We are quite old friends. But I am sorry to hear your brother is being crushed. Cor. To-day, Phillis, — I feel to you already like a brother, — to-day 1 discovered the secret of Humphrey's life. May I tell it you ? Phil. If you please. Cor. I will tell you the secret in a few words. My brother Humphrey adores you with all the simplicity and strength ot a noble artistic nature. Phil. Does he ? You mean he likes me very much. How good he is. I am very glad to hear it, Mr. Cornelius, though why it need be a secret I do not know. Cor. Then my poor brother, — he is all loyalty and brings you a virgin heart, an unsullied name, and the bright pros- pects of requited genius. My brother may hope? Phil. Certainly. I should like to see him hoping. Cor. I will tell him, sister Phillis. You have made two men happy, and one at least grateful. (Goes up and whis- pers to Humphrey.) Phil. That man has been nearly twenty years engaged in writing the greatest poem the world ever saw, and not a line of it is yet written. {Looking aro7/nd.) Here comes the other, who has been occupied the same length of time on a painting, and to this day the Ijrush has not touched the canvas. (Humphrey comes down beside Phillis.) He is going to tell me that Cornelius adores me. (Aside.) Humph. You are peaceful and happy here, Miss Fleming, — may I call you Phillis ? Phil. Certainly, Mr. Humplirey. We are old friends, you know. And I am very happy here. Humph. I am glad ; I am very glad indeed to hear it. Phil. Are you not happy, Mr. Humphrey? Why do you lool-: so gloomy ? And how is the great j.icture getting on ? Humph. "The Birth of the Renai.ssance " is advancing rapidly. It will occupy a canvas fourteen feet long by six high. Phil. If you have got the canvas, and the frame, all you want now is the picture. Humph. True as vou say — the picture. It is all that I want. And that is striding — literally striding. I am happy, dear Miss Fleming, dear Phillis, since I may call you by your pretty Christian name. It is of my brother that I think. It is on his account that I feel unhappy. Phil. What is the matter with him ? Humph. He is a great a noble fellow. His life is made up of sacrifices, and devoted to hard work. No one works so conscientiously as Cornelius. Yet he is not happy. There is a secret sorrow in his life. Phil. Oh, dear, do 'et me know it, and at once. Was there ever such a pair of devoted brothers ? H JMPH. A secret which no one has guessed but myself. Phil. I know what it is. {Lnui^/u'/io ) Humph. Has he told you, Phillis? The secret of his lite is that mv brother Cornelius is attached to you with all the devotion of his grand poetic soul. Phil. Why, that is what I thought you were going to say. Humph. You knew it. And you feel the response of a pissionate nature. He shall be your Petrarch. You shall read his very soul. But Cornelius brings you a virgin heart, a virgin heart, Phillis. May he hope that — Phil. Certainly he may hope, and so may you. And now we have had quite enough of devotion, and secrets, and great poetic souls (Rises) May I rejoin Mrs. Cassilis? Humph. Certainly. (Phillis j^oes up, and Cornelius comes down to HuMPHKEY.) Cornelius. Cor. Humphrey. Humph. Shall we drink the health and happiness of Phillis? Cor. We will, Humphrey. {TJiey drink.) She knows that she has found a virgin heart. Humph. She does. Oh, Cornelius, and th.e little Gretch- en and the milk-pails. Byronic rover ! Cor. Ah, Humphrey, shall I tell her of the coniadina, the black-eyed model, and the old wild days in Rome, eh ? Don Giovanni ! {Tlic-/ cl uck'c nivl ^'unch cacli other'' s 7-ibs, and ?v 7/p L., and sffoll ojf OTcr the 7'eranda and off h. The 7-e))tainder of the part / come down!) Mrs. C. Will ynu tell us, Mr. Dunquerque, if the story of tl^e bear-hunt is a true one, or did ynu make it up? Jack. We made up nothira;. The story is jDcrlectly true. And tiie m,in's name was Beck. Mr. C. Curious. An American, named Beck, Gilead P. B'eck. is in London now. and has been recommenc'ed to me. He is extremely rich. I think, my dear, that you invited him to dinner to-day ? Mks. C. Yes. He found he could not come, at the last moment. He will be here during the evening. Jack. Then \ou will see the man. unless there is more than one Gilead P. Beck, which is liardiv likel}'. Mr. C. This man has prncticnlly an unlimited credit. Mks. C. And is that other siory true, that you found an English traveller living all alone in a deserted city.-* Jack. ()uite true. Mrs. C. Really! And who was it.'' Anybody one has met 1 Jack. I do not know wliether you have ever met him. His n ime is Laurence Colquhoun. Mrs. C. {starts snddcniv at tlie name, but i^raditatlv re- covers heiself). Colqidinun ! {lo Mr. Cassilis.) My f'ear, it is an old frimd of mine of whom we are speaking, Mr. Laurence Colquhoun. Phil. He is my guarrlian, now that Mr. Dyson is dead. (Gilead Beck's 7Wfht retaliate on you. Lau. Come, Mrs. Cassilis, it is no use. I cannot help you. I would not if I could. Hang it ! it would be too ridiculous for me to interfere. Think of the situation. Here we are, we three. I first, you in the middle, and Mr. Cassilis third. You and I know, and he does not suspect. On the staq^e, the man who does not suspect always looks a fool. Make yourself miserable if you like, and make me uncomfortable, but for Heaven's sake don't make us all rid'culous. Mrs. C. After that dreadful day I went back to the old life. Two years passed away. You were gone — never to re- turn, as you said. Mr. Cassilis came. Lau. Weil? Mrs. C. Well, I was poor. I saw a chance for freedom. Mr. Cassilis offered me that, at least. And I accepted him. Lau. Very well, Mrs. Cassilis. very well. If you are satisfied, of course no one has the right to say a word. After all, no one has any cause to fear except yourself For me, I certainly shall hold my tongue. It would be so beautifully explained by Sergeant Smcothtongue. " Six years ago, gen- tlemen of the jury, a man, no longer in the bloom of early youth, was angled for and hooked by a lady who employed a kind of tackle comparatively rare in English society. She was a femme iiicoiiiprise. She despised the little ways of women ; she was full of infinite possibilities ; she was going to lead the world, if only she could get the chance. And then, gentlemen of the jury, then — " {Enter Mr. Cassilis c. from L, and comes down R. Mrs. Cassilis 7-ises.) Mrs. C. {to Mr. Cassilis). My dear, let me introduce Mr. Colquhoun, a veryold friend of mine. Mr. C. I am glad, Mr. Colquhoun, to know you. I have heard of you. Mrs. C. Pray sit down, Mr. Colquhoun, unless you will go on with your description. Mr. Colquhoun, who has just returned from America, mv dear, was giving me a vivid ac- count of some American trial scene which he witnessed. Lau. {aside). Now which looks th.e fool? Beck {enters at hack and recognizes Laurence). The hermit of Empire City, by tiie living^ jingo ! (Laurence \.., unconcerned. Mrs. Cassilis c, pe7'fectly calm. Mr. Cassilis r., quite satisfied. Jack, Gilead Beck, and Phillis enter at back.) Curtain. ACT n. Scene. — Laurence Colquhoun's apartments at the Al- bany. Table C, with reading-lamp upon it, luith green shade. Fireplace L. Chairs about. Sofa R. Laurence seated in large chair before fire, smoking. Gilead Beck C. Jack Dunquerque stretched on sofa, smoking, r. Window C, with hmvy drapsry. Room fitted with dark •walls, dark furniture and carpet, all in the Oriental style. Chandelier over table, lighted ; also the reading- lamp. Doors R. 3 and L. 3. Beck. I call this kind, boys. I call this friendly. I asked myself last nisjht. " Will those boys see me, or will they let the ragged Yankee slide?" And here I am. Now if you should be curious, gentlemen, to know my history since I left you in San Francisco. 1 will tell you from the beginning. You remem')er th.it inseck, the Golden But- terfly ? Jack. In the little box? I asked vou after his welfare last week. By the way, before you begin, I ought to tell you that since we came liome, we have written a book, Ladds and mv'^elf about our travels. Beck. Is thit so ? Jack. And we have put you into it, with an account of Empire City. Bi'XK. Gentlemen, I shall buy that book. I shall take five hundred copies of that book. Just as I was. you say — no boots, but moccasins; not a dollar, nor a cent; running for bare life liefore a grizzly. Jack. Thank you. Beck. Well. I went oft', after I left you, l>y the Pacific Railway, and I landed in New York. New York City is not the village I should recommend to a man without dollars in his pocket. Fiji, p'r'aps, for one who has a yearning after bananas and black civilization. But not New York. No, gentlemen ; if you go to New York, let it be when you've made your pile, and not before ; then you can walk into Del- monico's as if the place l)elonged to you. I left that city, and made my way North, till I found myself in the city of' Lim-. erick on Lake Ontario. You do not know the city of Lim- erick, I dare say. Jack. Haven't that pleasure. Beck. Well I have, and it was the darnedest misbegotten location, built around a swamp, that ever called itself a city. There were a few deluded farmers trying to persuade them- selves that things would look up, for they couldn't do much else, since they were flat on their back. You never saw such a helpless lot. I did not stay among them because I loved them, but because I saw things. Lau. Ghosts? Beck. Ghosts be blowed. No, sir. That was what they tJwui^lit I saw when I went prowling around of an evening. They thought, too, that 1 was mad when I began to buy land. You could buy it for notiiing ; a dollar an acre ; half a dollar an acre ; anything an acre. I've mended a cartwheel for a five-acre lot of swamp. I saw that they were walking, — no, sleeping, — over fields of incalculable wealth, and they never suspected. They smoked their pipes, and ate tlieir pork. Between whiles they praised the Lord for sending them a fool like me. Lau. And what did you see when you looked about ? Beck. I saw, sir, a barren bog. The barrenest, boggiest part of it all was my claim. And to think that those mean pork-raisers saw it all the same as 1 did, and never sus- pected. Jack. And you found what ? Gold ? Beck. No, I found what I expected. And that was better than gold. Mind, I say nothing against gold. Gold has made many a pretty little fortune — Jack. Little ! Beck. Little, sir. Tliere's no big fortunes made out of gold. Diamonds again. One or two men like the name of diamonds, but not many. There's the disadvantage about gold and diamonds — that you have to dig for them, and to dig darned hard, and to dig for yourself mostly. But, gentle- men, the greatest gift the airth has to bestow, she gave to me, — abundant, spontaneous, etarnal, without bottom, and free. Jack. And that is — (Sitting tcp^ interested^ Beck {rising to his feet, arid st7-iking the table'). It is He, He I Gold means rheumatism and a bent back. He flows. I knew it was there, because I had been in Pennsyl- vania and learned the sisjns. Borino^ a well is not quite the sort of work a man would select tor a pleasant and varie- gated occupation. Day after day I bored. It was the ninth day and noon, I was taking my dinner, which consisted on that day and all days of cold boiled pork and bread. Jack. Ah, yah ! Beck. Yes, sir, my own remark every day, when I sat down to that simple banquet. In those days, gentlemen, I said no grace. It didn't seem to me that the most straight- walking Christian was expected to be more than tolerably thankful for cold pork. Lau. And while you were eating the pork, tlie Golden Butterfly flew down the shaft and struck oil of his own account. Beck. No, sir ; for once you air wrong. Nobody went down. But sometliing came up — -up like a fountain, up like the bubbling over of the airth's etarnal teapot ; a black muddy jet of stuff. Great sun ! I think I see it now. Jack. But the oil may run dry. Beck. Never. What is this world, gentlemen.'' Jack. A round ball. Beck. Sir, it is like a great orange. It has its outer rind, what they call the crust. I've got my pipe straight into the mid- dle of the orange, and right through the crust. Other mines may give out, but my ile will run forever. Jack. Then we may congratulate you on the possession of a boundless fortune. Beck. You may, sir. It is my Luck. And I, sir, have struck ile as it never was struck before, l)ecause my well goes down to the almighty reservoir of this great world. Jack. And what do you intend to do ? Beck. Well, first I want to meet your great men. Not to interview them, sir, not at all. They may talk a donkey's hind leg off, and I wouldn't send a single line to the New York papers to tell tliem what was said, or what they wore. But I should like, just for one evening, to meet and talk with the great writers whom we respect across the water. Jack. Suppose I am able to get together half a dozen or so of our greatest writers, how should we manage to entertain them ? Beck. I should like to give them a good square meal at the Langham. Jack. To tell you the truth, I have anticipated your de- sire, and mentioned tlie subject to several personally. I told tiiem you were an American gentleman witli no letters of introduction, but a sincere admirer of their genius. BfXK. Heap it up, Mr. Dunquerque. Heap it up. Tell them 1 am death on a])preciation. Jack. That is in suljsiance what I did tell them. "On the one liand," 1 said, ''my friend, Gilead P. Beck" — I ventured to say, " my friend, Gilead P. Beck." Beck. If you hadn't said that, you should have been scalped and gouged. Goon, Mr. Dunquerque ; go on, sir. Jack. •' Will feel himself honored by your company ; on the other hand, it will be a genuine source of pleasure for you to know that you are as well known and as thoroughly appreciated on the other side of the water as you are here." To begin with, then, I have invited a poet and a painter to meet you here this evening — Messrs. Humphrey and Cornelius Jagenal, and it is quite time they were here. Lau. There are steps on tlie stairs now, Jack. Jack. It must be the twins. Beck. Produce your tains. Jack. I ought to tell you first that they are great men. Men of genius, wiiom you should also invite to the banquet. Beck. I can see them eating tiiere now, sir. Jack. And perhaps become their patron. Beck, ril patronize them faster than they can write or daub. Jack. You may be obliijed to converse on the subject of pictures and poetry ; are you up to th it ? Beck. Wal, I might be able to tell the picture from the frame, or poetry tVom prose, but I'll be darned if I believe I could tell blue from green, or elephant's breath from mouse's sneeze, if 1 was to go to thunder. (^Knock at door.) Lau. Enter. {Pause.') Enter. {A7iother pause.) Come in. {Enter Corneltus and Humphrey Jagenal l. 3 e.) Jack. Mr. Beck, this is Mr Cornelius Jagenal. Cor {bows). Mr. Beck, allow me to introduce my brother, Humphrey Jagenal. In his case the world is satisfied with the Christian name alone without the ceremonial prefix. He is, as you know, the artist. Beck. Sir, I am proud indeed to make your acquaint- ance. I am but a rough man myself, sir, but I respect genius. Humph. Then allow me to introduce mv brother. Cor- nelius Jagenal, as )OU doubtless know, Mr. Beck, is the poet. Beck. Sir, I have been knocking about die world, and have not read any poetry since I was a Iwy. Now let's start fair. Sit clown, gentlemen. Will you take anything ? Cor. and Humph, {looking ai each other perplexed'). Anything ? Beck. In Caliibrnia, up country, we always begin with a drink. Cor. Thank you, sir. Humphrey, do we need it? Humph. Perhaps, not absolutely — still — Cor. Still, brother — Humph. We might take — Cor. Just a li.tle — Humph. Drop. Cor. Yes, brother. Humph, and Cor. Ahem ! Beck. Don't be backward about coming forward, gentle- men. Here's the nectar. {Potirs champagne. As he is about to hand it to them, and while they are reaching forward eage^'- ly, still trying to disguise their eagerness, he withdraws it, much to their disappointment.') Perhaps, though, you pre- fer something different ? Humph, and Cor. Ah, no ! {Quickly.) Beck. This may be too dry. Humph, and Cor. Not in the least. We prefer it dry. Beck. Perhaps you prefer water ? Humph, and Cor. Water! {Unable to conceal their disgust.) No, water is too wet. Beck. If you do, say so. Far be it from me to hold the glass to any man's lips against his inclination. In the silver mines I've seen a man threatened with a bowie for refusing a drink. Humph. A man threatened with a boy .'' Beck. Yes, sir, and I've known temperate men anxious for peace take drinks, when they were offered, till their back teeth were under whiskey. Humph. Cornelius, did you ever hear of a man threatened with a boy ? Cor. Never, brother, never ! Humph. Mr. Beck, how could the man be threatened with a boy ? Beck {spells it). Bowie, not boy. Bowie, a large knife named from Colonel Bowie. Cut, rip, slash, you know. PIUMPH. Oh ! American, you know. Beck. Well, do you drink ? HuMPH. We will not — be threatened with a bowie. Cor. We v/ill venture the champagne. Humph, We will. Beck. Champagne it is then. (^Handing champagne!) Cor. {holding tip glass). " At last we meet." Humph. "Pa''t'ng is such sweet sorrow." Cor. {after drinking). " 'Tis gone, 1 am a man again." Humph. "We met by chance in the usual way." Beck. I wonder if he is in the habit of getting all his drin!ft. Stick (The) . . 15 1 I Old and Young . . . 15 | Eleven Cmaracters. — Six Mates, Five Females. Babie 25 I The Miller's Wife . . 15 | The " Tomboy " Giralda 15 | Our Folks 15 | Fight Males, Three Females. Lost Mine (The) . . 25 i " Nevadi " .... 25 I Our Boys of 1776 I One Hundred Yi. ars Ago 15 | Seven Males, Feur Females. Five IMales, Six Females- ATjore the Clouds 15 | The Christening . . ^ . •. . Kine Males. Two Feiiiales. Don CfEsar de Baxan . 15 26. n»iD. Better than Gold Bull in a China Shop . Duchess of Dublin Coupon Bonds . . , Enlisf-ed for War . , Ella Rosenberg . . . Both Alike . . . . Paddle your Own Canoe Shaker Lovers . . . Lords of Creation . . Twelve Chakacteks. — Nine Males, Three Females. Ticket of Leave Man 15 | Wife's Secret (The) . . Ten Males, Two Females. liiglit Males, Four Females. Gaspardo, the Gondolier .... 15 | Fool's Kevenge ('J'lie) IS Over Twelve Chai!actei;s. Aladrice, vhich is uiti/nrmli/ 15 cents nach Captain Kyd .... 15 Olari 15 L>>nnb Girl of Portici . 15 East Lynne .... 15 Fc.'cod to the War . 25 Her.i of Scotland . , 15 lluncliback (The) . . 15 Hamlet 15 Hidden Hand ... 15 15 .siol.'nWm (':h(0 . . 25 (iiildeii lUm.irly (The) 25 i5 Two orphans (The) . 25 15 "\ irginia \ ciCian . , '.5 i-5 Wallace ..... 15 iio Zelina .... 15 15 Line and Gray, or Star 25 ofLnipire . . . . yo Coals of Fire .... 6 Close Shave .... 6 Freedom of the Press . 8 Gentlemen of the Jury 12 Great Umbrella Case 32 Great Elixir .... 9 Humors of the Strike 8 Hypochondriac (The) 5 15 cents each. Aunt Mehitable's Sci- entific Experiment . 6 Champion of Her Sex 8 Dog tLatwill Fetch, &c. 6 Eliza's Bonafide Ofier 4 Man with the Lemliohu 4 My Uncle the Caiitain 6 New Brooms Sweep Clean 6 Public Benefactor . . n Pedlar of Veryniee . 7 Rival Poets .... 2 Kunaways 4 Ready-made Suit . . 35 Female Characters Only. excejit Rebecca's Triumpli, which is 25 cents. SI and by the Flag . . 5 Shall Our Mothers Vote 11 Two Gentlemen in a 6'ix 2 Too Late for the Train 2 Thief of Time (The) . 6 Tender Attachment . Very Pleasant Evening 3 Wanted, a Male Cook 4 Greatest Plague in Life 8 Red Chignon . . . The Grecian Bend. . 7 Rebecca's Triumph Love of a Bonnet . . 6 Tipsy Pudding . . No Cure, No Pay . . 7 Using the Weed Precious Pickle ... 7 '\'oyage of Life . . Musical and Other Plays for Children. Male and Female Characters. I College Ned— operetta 15 Merry Christmas Dorothy's Birthday— R. E. Porter operetta 25 Santa Glaus Frolics Diamonds and Toads — operetta 15 Fairy of Fountain . . 25 Holidays 15 Hunt the Thimble . 50 I Lost Children ... 15 Musical Allegories for Female Characters Only. Lightheart's Pilgrim- I Revolt of the Bees . . 15 I Vision of Freedom . 15 age 15 Tournament of Idyl- War of Roses , . . 15 I court 15 I The Pilgrim's Choice, for Male and Females. Musical and Other Entertainments for Ahults. Accelerate — operatic charade 15 Bachelor's Christmas 25 Bunch of Buttercups 15 Christmas Carol . . 15 Centennial — charade . 15 Conjuration — operatic charade 15 Santa Claus First Santa Claus at Home Seven Ages — Tableaux ent. Titan ia Anastasia, operetta 25 Anonymous, shadow pantomime . . 25 Arabella and Lionel, pantomime . 15 A. Ward's Wax Figger Show ... 25 Bon Bons, musical and dramatic entertainment 25 Capuletta, operatic burlesque . . 15 Cinderella, shadow pantomime . . 25 Drink, shadow pantomime .... 25 2T, new. Driggs and His Double, shadow pan- tomime 25 H. M. S. Pinafore, opera .... 15 In Pawn, shadow pantomime ... 25 Jenny Lind, operetta 15 Sculptor's Triumph, tableau ent. . 15 Snow Bound, musical and dramatic entertainment , S-"* Orpheus, shadow pantomime . . 2$ ''AWFULLY jolly:* FOOTLIGHT FROLIOa ENTERTAINMENT FOR HOME AND SCHOOL By MRS. CHARLES F. FERNALD. Comprising Thirteen Entertainments as follows : — THE HONEYMOON. ANTIDOTE, Charade Play. JACK AND THE BEANSTALK, in Rhyme. GRAMMAR SCHOOL FUN. SCHOOL OPERA. BLUE RIBBONS, A Temperance Sketch. CHRISTMAS CAPERS. A TEMPERANCE FROLIC. LOVE-SICK, Charade. BANDITTI, Charade. COLD WATER, Temperance Play. LEARNING LESSONS. ANVIL CHORUS. The whole neatly bound in boards at 50 cents, in paper covers at 30 cents. PARLOR VARIETIES. (PART riKST.) PLAYS, PANTOMIMES, AND CHARADES. By EMMA E. BREWSTER. i6mo. Bound, 50 cents; paper, 30 cents. LIST OF VARIETIES. MY SISTER'S HUSBAND. Play, 2 Acts. 3 male, 3 female characters. THE CHRISTMAS BOX. Play, 2 Acts. 4 male, 4 female characters. THE FREE WARD. Play, i Act. 5 male, 2 female characters. JANE'S LEGACY. Play, i Act. 2 male, 4 female characters. A PRETTY PIECE OF PROPERTY. Play, 3 Acts. 3 male, 4 female characters. POOR PETER. Play, i Act. 5 male, 2 female characters. THE DON'S STRATAGEM. Play, 3 Acts. 4 male, 3 female characters. HOW THE COLONEL PROPOSED. Play, 3 Acts. 2 male, 4 female characters. ELIZABETH CARISBROOKE WITH A " P." Play, 3 Acts. 2 male, 4 female char- acters. ELIZA'S BONA-FIDE OFFER. Play, i Act. 4 female characters. ZERUBBABEL'S SECOND WIFE. Play, i Act. 2 male, 2 female characters. A DOG THAI' WILL FETCH WILL CARRY. Play, i Act. 6 female characters. Charade — HOLIDAYS. Masque for Children. Charade — CENT-ANY-ALL — CENTENNIAL. 3 Acts. Pantomime — ARABELLA AND LIONEL, i Act. 2 male, 2 female characters. A BUNCH OK BUTTERCUPS, i Act. i male, 5 female characters. Any piece on the list sold separately ^ price ij cetits each. A New Volume of Flays and Pantomimes. PARLOR VARIETIES. (PART SECOND.) Being the Second Series of Plays, Pantomimes, and Charades, By EMMA E. BREWSTER, Author oi " Parlor Varieties," Part I., and LIZZIE B. SCRIBNER. Bound, 50 cents; paper, 30 cents. JUST OUT. PARLOR VARIETIES. (PART THIRD.) The Third of this Popular Series of Plays, Pantomimes, and Charades. By OLIVIA LOVELL WILSON. The plays are bright and witty. The variety includes' musical pieces, fairy plays, and laughable farces. Just what is wanted for the wmter entertammenls at home, in th^ school, and on many public occasions. Boards, 50 cents ; paper, 30 cents. NEW ENTERTAINMENTS. THE DAIRYMAIDS' FESTIVAL. By May Neal. For any ber of young ladies. Price, 25 cents. THE HARVESTERS. A Musical Drill for children. By Mi c K. Rogers. Price, 25 cents. THE CARNIVAL OF DAYS. An Entertainment. By Marj^ J: HoRNE. For May-Day, Christmas, Memorial Day, Fourth c. July, or St. Valentine's Day. Price, 15 cents. THE PEAK SISTERS. A Humorous Entertainment for Vouris Ladies. Arranged by Mary B. Horne. Any number o* ladies may take part, but seven only are necessar}-. N( scenery; costumes very simple. This laughable trifle me=t^ with invariable success wherever performed. Price, ^5 cer^ts CHRISTMAS ENTERTAINMENTS. For School and Home, ii; Jaye Kaye. This little book of suggestions is invaluable ^( every one interested in the amusement and instruction of tl e little folks. It contains a large number of novel entertain ments, simple in character and inexpensive to get up. Price, 25 cents. NEW PLAYS. THE FAIRY STEEPLECROWN. A Play for Children. By Alice P. Carter. Price, 25 cents. CAPT. MARY MILLER. A Drama of Woman's Rights, in five acts. By Harriet H. Robinson. Price, 25 cents. NEW EDITION. THE VOYAGE OF LIFE. By "Oliver Optic." Price, 15 cents. BY GEORGE M. BAKER. MESSMATES. A drama in three acts. Six males, four females. Price, 25 cents. THE SELDARTE CRAZE. A farce in one act. Eight males, three females. Price, 25 cents. THE RIVAL POLITICIANS, and other dialogues. Price, 15 cents. NEW BOOK OF RECITATIONS. THE READING CLUB. Nos. 17 and 18. Price, 15 cents. IRISH DIALECT RECITATIONS. Prose and verse. Price, 30 cents, NEGRO DIALECT RECITATIONS. Price, 30 cents. THE GRAND ARMY SPEAKER. Price, 30 cents. YANKEE DIALECT RECITATIONS. Price, 30 cents. MEDLEY DIALECT 'RECITATIONS. German, French, and Scotch. Price, 30 cents. BAKER'S HUMOROUS SPEAKER. Ptice, cloth, $1.00. WALTER H. BAKER & CO., BOSTON. 23 Winter Street GEORGE M. BAKER'S PLAYS. Price (5 cents, unless otherwise stated. ABOVE THE CLOUDS. 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, 1 female. 26 Ceuts. 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 males, i female. CHAMPION OF HER SEX, THE. Farce in one act. 8 females. CHRISTMAS CAROL, A. Christmas en- tertainment from Dickens. Many char. 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. BROP TOO MUCH, A. Farce in one act. 4 males, 3 females. DUCHESS OF DUBLIN, THE. Farce in one act. 6 males, 4 females. FNLISTED 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. Comedy-drama in three acts. 5 males, 3 fem. FLOWING BOWL, THE. Drama in three acts. 7 males, 3 females. 25 CentS. FREEDOM OF THE PRESS. Farce in one act. 8 males. GENTLEMEN OF THE JURY. Farce in one act. 12 males. GREAT ELIXIR, THE. Farce in one act. 9 males. GREATEST PLAGUE IN LIFE, THE. Farce in one act. 8 females. GRECIAN BEND, THE. Farce in one act. 7 females. HUMORS OF THE STRIKE, THE. Farce in one act. 8 males. HYPOCHONDRIAC, THE. Farce in one act. 5 males. LAST LOAF, THE. Drama in two acts. 5 males, 3 females. LIGHTHE ART'S PILGRIMAGE. Alle- gory for schools. 8 females and chorus. LITTLE BROWN JUG, THE. Drama in three acts. 5 males, 3 females. LITTLE MORE CIDER, A. Farce in one act. 5 males, 3 females. LOVE OF A BONNET, A. Farce in one act. s females. MAN WITH THE DEMUOHN, THE. farce in one act. 4 males. MY tROTHER'S KEEPER. Drama in t>iree pcts. 5 males, 3 females. MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCE, A. Farce in one act. 4 males. MY UI'ICLE THE CAPTAIN. Farce in one act. 6 males. NEVER SAY DIE. Farce in one act. 3 males, 3 females. NEVADA. Drama in three acts. 8 males, 3 females. 25 Cents. NEW BBOOM SWEEPS CLEAN, A. Farce in one act. 6 males. NO CURE, NO PAY. Farce in one act. y females. ONCE ON A TIME. Drama ia tw« acte. 4 males, 2 females. ONE HUNDRED YEARS AGO. Drama in two acts. 8 males, 3 females. ORIGINAL IDEA, AN. Dialogue for a lady and gentleman. OUR FOLKS. Drama in three acts. 6 males, 5 females. PADDLE YOUR OWN CANOE. Farce in one act. 7 males, 3 females. PAST REDEMPTION. Drama in four acts. 9 males, 4 females. 26 OeiltS. PEDLAR OF VERYNICE, THE. Bur- lesque. 7 males. PRECIOUS PICKLE, A. Farce in one act. 5 females. PUBLIC BENEFACTOR, A. Farce in one act. 6 males. ' REBECCA'S TRIUMPH. Drama in three acts. 16 females. 25 CeutS. RED CHIGNON, THE. Farce in one act. 6 females. REVOLT OF THE BEES, THE. Mu- sical allegory, gfemales. RUNAWAYS, THE. Farce in one act. 4 males. SANTA CLAUS' FROLICS. Christmas- tree entertainment. Many char. SCULPTOR'S TRIUMPH, THE. Alle- Jory. I male, 4 females. A OF TROUBLES, A. Farce in one act. 8 males. SEEING THE ELEPHANT. Temper- ance farce. 5 males, 2 females. SEVEN AGES, THE. Tableau entertain. ment. 7 males, 4 females. SHALL OUR MOTHERS VOTE? Hu- morous debate for 11 boys. SNOW BOUND. Musical and dramatic en- tertainment. 3 males, i fomale. 25 CentS. STAND BY THE FLAG. Drama in one act. 5 males. SILVIA'S SOLDIER. Drama in two acte. 3 males, 2 females, TEMPTER, THE. Drama in one act 3 males, i female. TENDER ATTACHMENT, A. Farce k one act. 7 males. THIEF OF TIME, THE. Farce in one act. 6 males. THIRTY MINUTES FOR REFRESH- ments. Farce in one act. 4 males, 3 fem. THORN AMONG THE ROSES, A. Com. edy in one act. 2 males, 8 females. TITANIA. Play for children in two acts. Many char. 25 Cents. TOO LATE FOR THE TRAIN. Dialogue for 2 males, introducing songs and recitations. TOURNAMENT OF IDYL WENT, THE. Allegory for 13 females. VISIONS OF FREEDOM. Allegory for 16 females. USING THE WEED. Farce in one act 7 females. WANTED, A MALE COOK. Farce ia one act. 4 males. WAR OF TFE ROSES. Allegory for 8 females. WE'RE ALL TEETOTALERS. Faree ia one scene. 4 males, 2 females, WAITER H. BAKER, & CO, (P.O. Box 2846), Boston, Mas& THE UNIVERS/s\„-7;p''c^.;^ss ALWAYS INTENDED. A Comedy in 1 Act. By Horace Wigan. 3 male, 3 female char. THE ANONYMOUS KISS. A Vaudeville. ' 2 male, 2 female char. ANOTHER GLASS. A Drama in 1 Act. By Thomaa Morton. 6 male, .3 female char. AUNT CHAELOTTE'S MAID. A Farce ill 1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 niale, 3 female chnr. THE BABES IN THE WOOD. A Comedy ia3Acts. By Tom T.iylor. 10 male, 3 female char. BLANKS AND PBIZES. A Comedietta in 1 Act. By Dexter ^mitU. 6 male, 2 female char, BLUE AND CHEERY, A Comedy in 1 Act. 3 male, 2 female char. BOUQUET. A Comedietta in 1 Act. By J. A. Woodward. 2 male, 2 female char. BOWLED OUT. A Farce in 1 Act. By H. T. Craven. 4 male, 3 female char. BSOTHEE BILL AND ME. A Farce in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 4 male, .1 female char. A BULL IN A CHINA SHOP. A Comedy in 2 Acts. £/ Charles Matthews. 6 male, 4 female char. THE CHRISTENING. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. B. Buckstone. S male, 6 female char. THE CLEFT STICK. A Comedy in 3 Acts. 6 male, 3 female char. COUSIN TOil. A Comedietta in 1 Act, By Geo. Roberta. 3 male, 2 female char. DAMON AND PYTHIAS. A Farce, 6 male, 4 female char. DANDELION'S DODGES, A Farce iu 1 Act. By T. J, Williams. 4 male, 2 female char. THE DAUGHTER OF THE REGIMENT. A Drama in 2 Acts. By Edward Fitxball. 6 male, 2 female char. DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND, An Interlude in 1 Act. Bv W. H. Murray. 10 male, 1 female. DONE ON BOTH SIDES. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 mala, 2 female char. DON'T JUDGE BY APPEARANCES, A Farce in 1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 2 female. DORA, A Pastoral Drama in 3 Acts, By Chas. Reade. 5 male, 2 female char. A DOUBTFUL VICTORY. A Comedy in 1 Act. 3 male, 2 female char. DUNDUCKETTY'S PICNIC. A Farce in 1 Act. Bv T. J. Williams. 6 male, 3 female char, UA3T LYNNE. A Drama in 5 Acts. 8 J male. 7 female char. GASPARDO THE GONDOLIER. A Drama .a 3 Acts. Bv Goorsre Almar. 10 male, 2 female. GIVE A DOG A BAD NAME. A Farce. 2 male, 2 female char. THE HIDDEN HAND. A Drama in 5 Acts. By Robert Jones. 16 male, 7 female char. HIT HIM, HE HAS NO FRIENDS. A Farce in 1 Act. By K. Vatea and N. H. Uarriagton. 7 male, 3 female char. A HUSBAND TO ORDER. A Serio-comic Drama in 2 Acts. 5 male, .3 female char. I'VE WRITTEN TO BROWNE. A Farce inlAct. ByT. J. Williams. 4 male, 3 female char. JOHN DOBBS. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 5 male, 2 female char. JOHN WOPPS. A Farce in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 4 male, 2 female char. THE LOST CHILDREN. A Musical En- tertainment in 5 Acts. By Mrs. Lewis Jerrey. 8 male, 5 female char., and chorus. LOOK AFTER BROWN. A Farce in 1 Act. By Georije A. Stuart, M.D. 6 male, 1 femali char. LOST IN LONDON. A Drama in 3 Acta. 6 male, 4 female char. LYING By H.I MADAM ^ _-_ -__ _ .- _ _ 2male Q 016 103 348 ■ A Farce in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 2 male, 1 fwii. MONSEIGNEUR. A Drama in 8 Acts. By 'rhonias Archer. 15 male, 3 female char. MY PRE CIOUS BETSY. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 4 male, 4 female char. MY TURN NEXT. A Farce in 1 Act. By T. J. Williams. 4 male, 3 female char. NICHOLAS FLAM. A Comedy in 2 Acts. By J. B. Buckstone. 5 male, 3 female char. NONE SO DEAF AS THOSE WHO WON'T Hear. A Comedietta in 1 Act. By H. P. Curtis. 3 male, 2 female char. NURSEY CHICK WEED. A Farce in 1 Act. By T. J. Williams. 4 male, 2 female char. OLD HONESTY. A Comic Drama in 2 Acts. By J. M. Morton. 5 male, 2 female char. ONLY A CLOD, A Comic Drama in 1 Act. By J. P. Simpson. 4 male, 1 female char. PAYABLE ON DEMAND, A Domestic Drama in 2 Acts. 7 male, 1 female char. THE PHANTOM BREAKFAST. A Farce in 1 Act. By Cliaa. Selby. 3 male, 2 female char. rUTKINS; Heir to Castles in the Air. A Comic Drama in 1 Act. By W. R. Emersou. 3 male, 2 female char. THE QUEEN'S HEART. A Comedy in 3 Acts. 5 male, 4 female char. A RACE FOR A WIDOW. A Farce in I Act. By T. J. Williams. 5 male. 4 female char. SARAH'S YOUNG MAN. A Farce in J Act. By W. E. Suter. 3 male, 3 female char THE SCARLET LETTER. A Drama in 3 Acts. 8 male, 7 female char. SILVEESTONE'S WAGER. A Comedi- etta in i Act. Bv R. R. Andrews. 4 male, 3 female. A SLICE OF LUCK. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 4 ipalc, 2 female char. SMASHINGTON GOIT. A Farce in l Act. By T. J. Williams. 5 male, 3 female char. A SOLDIER, A SAILOR, A TINKER, and a Tailor. A Farce in 1 Act. 4 male, 2 female. SUNSHINE THEOUGH THE CLOUDS. A Drama in 1 Act. By Slingsby Lawrance. S mala, 3 female char. TRUE UNTO DEATH. A Drama in 2 Acts. By J. Sheridan Knowlei. 6 male, 2 female char. THE TURKISH BATH. A Farce in 1 Act. By Montague Williams and F. C. Bumand. 6 male, 1 female char. TWO GENTLEMEN IN A FIX. A Farce in 1 Act. By W. E. Suter. 2 maie char. TWO HEADS BETTEE THAN ONE. A Farce in 1 Act. By Lenox Home. 4 male* 1 female. THE TWO PUDDIFOOTS. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. M. Morton. 3 male, 3 female char. AN UGLY CUSTOMER. A Farce in 1 Act. Bv Thomas J. Williams. 3 male, 2 female char. UNCLE EOBEET. A Comedy in 3 Acts. By H. P. Curtis. 6 male, 2 female char. A VERY PLEASANT EVENING. A Farco in 1 Act. Bv W. E. Suter. 3 male char. THE WELSH GIRL. A Comedy in 1 Act. Bv Mrs. Planche. 3 male, 2 female char. WHICH WILL HAVE HIM? A Vaude- ville. 1 male, 2 female char. THE WIFE'S SECRET. A Play in 5 Acts. By Geo. W. Lovell. 10 male, 2 female char. YOUR LIFE'S IN DANGER. A Farce in 1 Act. By J. U. Morton. 3 male, 4 female char- WALTER H. BAKER & CO., PubUshers, Boston, Mass. p. O. Box 2646.