p 
 HI 
 
 f 
 
 W't.' till (■rdori toi' HhiH't iniisii' -at jMiblirtherfi pricH-s. 
 
 AMES' Series of ^> 
 
 STANDARD AKD MIITORJDHAMA, 
 
 Qp^ 
 
 :\o 71. 
 
 0I> 
 
 THE LOVE OF GOLD. 
 
 A DRAMA ()1-^ VRKMOXT, 
 
 ps b3r 
 
 W. FENRI WILKINS. 
 
 WJTIfCAST OF CHARACTERS, ENIUIANCES ANV EXITS, RE LA TIVB 
 POSITIONS OF THE PERFOJfSfERS ON THE STAGE, DE- 
 SCRIPTION OF COST U3IE, AND THE WHOLE OF 
 THE STAGE BUSINESS, AS PERFORM' 
 ED AT THE PRINCIPA L A MER- 
 ICAN AND ENGLISH 
 THE A TRES. 
 
 I ■ ; ' 1 i ! r. , () ! 11 '. > . 
 A. I) AMKS, IHiBLlSlll':!], 
 
 ▼• ,r-, /T., /▼■, Y\ ,-Y, .y\y V ,ys„ Y, Y-„ V- y . V .Ys ■y^ ,Y^, y: ,«f(^^ mJ^\ /Tv^ ■Tv'^ .Tv « m/f. N\M N\M\ WkW. ^ 
 
? €) C O C O C O ' tDO t).Q oO'GOt) O^ OnO'CyOTyOOQ'O-O ' ZQ'ZQ DOOCT; < 
 
 I 
 
 J AMES' STArVIlAKM Al%n JSiir^OK DRAMA. 
 
 ^ FIFTEEN Cl^'TS PER COPY. C V' 
 
 } 1. 3fJS. ^iVD il!fi2>S. PRINGLE, A comic interlude in one act, 7 male, 4 fe- ^ 
 
 i^ male characters. A very funny afterpeice. A light plot hinging upon the fact \ 
 
 I ;, that Mr. Piingle who has a horror of children, marries as he supposes a widow ( 
 
 C< of about fifty, AVithout any. The situations as the children appear one by one, /, 
 
 (i are very funny. Scene, adrawing room. Time of performance dominates. , 
 
 i) 2. A DESPERATE GAME, A comic drama in one act, by John Madison ^) 
 
 %, Morton, 3 male 2 female characters. Scenery, simple in-door sets. It is very (^ 
 
 funny and since its publication ha? been performed often and v.'ith great sue- ^s 
 
 cess. Time of performance 45 minutes. Every company should liave it. , Ij 
 
 (^ 3. THE LADY OF LYONS. Nothing need be said in praise of this play. ^), 
 
 (5) It is by Bulwer, and has 12 male and 2 female eharacter.s. A favorite willi all ^^ 
 
 ,() great players. It abounds in eloquent declamation. Time of playing, 3 hours. ^ ■> 
 
 Q 4. RICHELIEU. A play in 5 acts, by Bulwer. 12 males and 2 females. ( i) 
 
 ( ) Time in representation, about 3 hours. \ ) 
 
 $ 5. WHEJSi WOMEN WEEP. A comedietta in 1 act, by J. Newton Gotthold. cfe 
 
 {) 3 males. 2 females. It is an old saying that if women will weep, their husbands (4) 
 
 (Ji or lovers will grant any favor. This shows how it is done. Scene «■ i^arlor. () 
 
 (J) Time of perfotmance "30 minutes. \-) 
 
 (P G. THE STUDIO. An Ethiopean farce in 1 act for 3 males. Very funny. (y 
 
 (3 Some very amusing experience in artist's studio is given. Just th.e farce for am- <i ) 
 
 (^ atuer minstrels. Eatily produced. Time of performance 20 minutes. (<) 
 
 m 7. THE VOW OF THE ORNANL A drama in 3 acts, by J. Newton Got t- i) 
 
 Q)) hold, 7 males, 1 female. Capital parts for leading man, two old men, and leading (J* 
 
 (T) lady. Will be found a good drama in every respect. One hour. (< ; 
 
 C^ 8. THE BETTER HALF. A comedietta in 1 act, by Thos. J. "Williams, 5 (, ) 
 
 (p male 2 females. Time, present, costumes modern. "Julia" in this play is al- '.' • 
 
 (j;) ways a favorite character with actresses. We liavo also a fop, a pouty old f(>llow, Cf ' 
 
 fl) a husband v.'ho is not half as much of a man as his Avife, etc. A tiptop play. i ,. 
 
 Q Time of performance 50 minutes. " O 
 
 (:V 9. LADY AUDLEY\S SECRET. A drama in 2 acts by Wm. E. KuK-r, (i 1 ^ 
 
 (J{) male 4 females. In addition to being a favorite stock play with the profe^^sion. (J) 
 
 () it is always in good demand from amatuers. The character of Ladv Audley is % 
 
 ([;) one of the best for leading lady. It has leading men, old man, and two first- C ■) 
 
 (jj class comedy pai'ts. All wlio have read the celebrated novel by the s-ame name (f j 
 
 Q will want the drama. TiiT)'e of representation 1 hour ana 40 minutes. i^} 
 
 (|) 10. STOCKS VP AND STOCKS POWN. A dialogue in 1 act, 2 male cliar- ^) 
 
 Cp aclevs. Cosmmes exageratcd, evening, and dilapidated, .-cene a streci. Ex- CI') 
 
 (p tremely lidiculous. Time of peiformance, 10 minitlcs. » h) 
 
 q^ 11. JOHN SMITH. A farce in 1 act by W. Hancock, o male 3 females. This ft' 
 
 (p farce must not lie confduiidid with "Jolm Sclimidt," as there is no similarity, {> 
 
 ^ tliis one being muoli ni(ir(>44ughable. The character of "Old Joliu Smilir' "is qf) 
 
 (I) immensely funny, and will keep an audience in roars of lauybter whenever he \(- 
 
 ( x ajjpcars. A favi rite farce, every character good. Costumes .simjde. Seenerv (' 
 
 ^ ])hunroom. Tnnc of playing, 40 minutes. " ^j 
 
 ( ^ 12. A CAPJTAL 3jA TCH. A comic drama in one act, 3 males, 2 females. Tliis , j 
 
 ^ is one of John ]N!:idison :Mor(on'.'^' best pieces, is very neat and ea.silv iir(idiic< d. i 
 
 ^ riie i-eenery is simple, can be played in a parlorif necessary. Time 35 miiuitc s. , j 
 
 (\) 13. GIVE 31 E MY WIFE. A farce in one act by Wm. E. Suter, 3 male, :". 1<- ('\ 
 
 (Jj) mal<" chan^ietevs. Easily produced, costumes mod'ern. A dreadful misundd- (| 
 
 Jj standing In this farce wliicli the name Mill im])Iy, Order a copy aiid y(ui will A 
 
 (In like it. Time of perl'ormanci; 30 minutes " A 
 
 (4j 14. THE BRUiANDS OF CALABRIA. A M(h.-lbnma, in one am, bv <>] 
 
 (h Wm. E. Suter, (i male, 1 female character. This is a eai.otal plav of the blood- f| 
 
 ,:j, and-tiiund(r de.-erij)t)en, and alKumds with sM'oid eembats, pisto"ls, etc., etc. ll (.i 
 
 J-, ab<i has a goc u -. omedy man, Avho ahvays is very fuiinv, and verv hungrv. Tlii- I 
 
 ^1 has always!;', en a great favorite witli ;ill cfmipanles who have plaved it. Time ( 
 
 'r (if ]Krf<jtmanc,>ab(iiit 1 hour. " j 
 
 J''' 15. AN INIIAPPY PAIR. An Ethiopian SketeJi for two characters. Is a J 
 
 ■|' laverite little skeieh with all who play it. C.'o.slumesexauerated. This is "*<i!.- \ 
 
 ^ I'cr all over," and (inght to be in the hands of cverv minstrel companv. Tiu'i. 
 
 vl-' el perlormance. 10 iiiiiiiites, ' ! 
 
 hQC ag OC QOQ.G G O C »(: QC aO Q.C Q€ QC GC. aC-Qi^%^ ^^ te-^ r:^ «>1 
 
 '&^ 
 
THE REWARD OF CRIME, 
 
 ■OR THE- 
 
 LOVE OF GOLD. 
 
 A DRAMA OF VERMONT, 
 
 IN TWO ACTS. 
 
 •liV 
 
 / 
 
 i 
 
 W. Henri Wilkins, 
 
 Al'TUOR OF, 
 
 "Rock Allen, the Orphan," "Three Glnsnes A Pny," "Fun Ey the Bushel," 
 
 "Mother's Fool," ot.-. 
 
 With cast of characterB, entrances and exits, Relative positions of the 
 Performers on the stage, Descripiiou of Costume, and the whole of the stage 
 business. ■'— —.^ 
 
 Cyo.j/ljojcA 
 
 \V,^/. 1879. o*/ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress 
 
 A. D. AMES, 
 In the ollice of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington 
 
 ■CLYDE, 0:- 
 
 A. D. AMES. PUBLISHER. 
 
THE REWARD OF CRIME. y>P >i\^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 CHARACTERS: 
 
 Hazel Greene The Yankee Farmer. 
 
 Hart Ha-A'kins = The Lover. 
 
 Tim Gleason - The Yankee Servant* 
 
 Simon Barrs The Murderer. 
 
 Brandon Coyle The Accomplice. 
 
 Clarinda Greene The Wife. 
 
 Mabel Greene The Daughter. 
 
 Rose Cranberry The Help. 
 
 -PERIOD 1865 to 1868- 
 
 COSTUMES. 
 Modern, with suitable changes in tne different scenes 
 
 Time of representation — One hour and thirty minutes. 
 
 SYNOPSIS OF EVENTS- 
 ACT FIRST. — Scene First. — The Greene familj' — Mrs. Greene's suspicion 
 of Simon Barrs — "Don't tnink me a fool wife," reference to the murdered 
 son — "Should that time ever come, wife, I'd kill him if I could" — Sur- 
 render of Lee — Commencement of the salute — "Whoa! old mare" — "Let 
 her vim: I'll pay the damage" 
 
 Scene Second — The -plotters — "If we can't do it one way we must do it 
 another" — Unexpected entrance of Tim — "wait" Tim becomes master of 
 ceremonies. 
 
 Scene Third — The lovers — "Bewarf of Sim:>n Barrs" — "Money> money" 
 
 '.J')! be true to you forever" — A dish of apples and a drink of cider — A 
 
 hit at the legislature of Vt. — A little unpleasantness between Tim and 
 j^yse — The Pledge of love — Some of Tim's experiences — "Idiot I'll hang 
 you" — "Don't you so much as wiggle."* 
 
 ACT SECOND — Scene First: — Three years later — "Poor husband what a 
 change has come over him" — Farmer Greene in the toils — "He loves her to 
 destruction" — "He's rich wife, he's rich" — "Yes father I am that person" 
 
 <<nazel you've done a noble act — The farmers early recolections — "If I've 
 
 come to my senses I'll act like a man." 
 
 Scene Second — The storm — the villians at work — "Here's luck. 
 
 Scene Third — Tim's soliloquy — The fatal letter — Rose as a pickpocket — 
 ."Kill me quick" — "I will never marry you" — Home from Austrailia — 
 "Have a care Hawkins, that's hard talk" — "face your own music Mr. Barrs" 
 — Confronted with the proof — "Men are you there?" — The response — Sur- 
 rounded — Death of Simon Barrs. 
 
 Scene Fourth — A fearful warning — "Our experience, wife has been dear- 
 ly bought" — The murderer's exphmation — "In the gold mines of Ballarat" 
 — Rescue of the Gov. General in the streets of Sydney — Plenty of money 
 and good luck — Tlic knot — I'll be a different man — Celebrating the nation's 
 birthday — The fathers request — and Epilogue. 
 
The Reward of Crime. 
 
 -o 
 
 >CT I. 
 
 SCENE FlUST— Kitchen of the Greene famihj— Table L. c. Fireplace 
 R. c. — Hazel Greene, froiit, right of fireplace smoking, elbows on Ms knees — 
 palm-leaf hat hanging against the wall r. c. — 2£rs. Greene at table extreme 
 L, c. knitting. 
 
 Greene, (takifig pipe from his mouth and spitting in fireplace) Seems tu 
 mc, Claricda, that gal's gone a long while to the office. It's been now most 
 tew hours, and if it wasn't sich a bright moonlight evening, 1 should begi n 
 to feel consarned about her. I hope she got my letter in. 
 
 Mrs. G. Never you fear Hazel, Mabel's used to the saddle and the old 
 mare will bring her home safe. She's a smart girl, Hazel, if 1 du say it, 
 and one of whom any father or mother may well feel proud. 
 
 Greene. So she is wife, so she is. And folks du say she takes after her 
 old daddy, powerful, and that's what's the cause of it. {spits in fireplace. 
 
 Mrs. G, That's your story Hazel, and I'm not disposed to argue. But 
 I fear that Simon Barrs has been filling your ears with nonsence. By the 
 way, husband, I think he's been paying a little too much attention to Ma- 
 bel, for the last few weeks, and I like it not; for I believe he's bad. And 
 besides if he is the man he would have us believe, I think he would cease 
 his visits, when be knows she's engaged to Hart Hawkins. 
 
 Greene. That's prejudice, wife, nothing but prejudice. While I ac- 
 knowledge that Hawkins is a good fellow, I still fail to see anything in him 
 to worship, any more than in many other young men, and if Mabel wants 
 to let Simon Barrs court her, she's got a perfect right to. And anything 
 we say against it, won't help matters. 
 
 Mrs. G. But she doesn't choose to, and that's what's the matter, I can 
 see that his attentions are not welcome to her. Nevertheless she tries to 
 treat him in a lady-like manner. 
 
 Greene. Of course she does, Clarinda, and I believe she likes him best 
 yet. "Why, he's rich, and Hart Hawkins hasn't got a cent in the world. 
 
 > {spits infire. 
 
 Mrs. G. Hazel Greene ! don't you judge a man by the clothes he wears, 
 the rings he supports or the cane he carries ; cause if ye do you'll get al- 
 firedly sucked in. As fer me, I'd rather have one of Hart Hawkin's old 
 gloves, than the whole carcass of such a man as Simon Barrs. 
 
 Greene, {spitting in fire) More prejudice, wife, more prejudice. I tell 
 you money's a handy article tu have, I find it so, and if ever I say a word 
 to Mabel on the subject I shall speak a good word for Simon. But see here 
 wife ! I heard this afternoon that Hawkins was going a sea voyage, that 
 he had obtained a place on board a merchantman, engaged in the coffee 
 and indigo trade, and plying between Australia and some port on the coast 
 ol Europe. 
 
4 THE EEWARD OF CRIME. 
 
 Mrs. G. "Why I husband, how you talk 1 "When is he going? 
 
 Greene, (spitting) I think not until fall. I don't think he's got any 
 very tender attachment that will prevent, and when he is once away you'll 
 eee Mabel won't think of him once a fortnight. She's always been a duti- 
 ful gal, and when she knows I've set my heart on a match between her 
 and Simon, she'll consider it her duty to take my advice. 
 
 Mrs. G. But husband, would you command her to marry Simon Barrsif 
 you knew she loved another ? 
 
 Greene. Clarinda Green 1 what do you t«ke me for ? Don't think me a 
 fool if 1 was raised among the backwoods of Vermont. Me command our 
 Mabel to marry a man she hated ? I'd die first. And did I not think this 
 proposed match would be for the advancement of our daughter's happiness, 
 I'd lock the desire close within my own breast. Or, did I once have a sus- 
 picion that Simon Barrs is any but the gentleman I take him for, I'd turn 
 him from my door. {spitting. 
 
 Mrs. G. I'm glad to hear you say so, husband ; I feared the love of 
 money was turning your head. But had you thought that it was eight 
 years ago to-night, since our Frank was killed, shot down like a dog in the 
 streets; and for what? Money I husband, money! And during all these 
 years not a trace has been obtained of the hand that committed the awful 
 deed. 
 
 Greene, (spitting) Oh, wife! how 1 have searched for the murderer of 
 ourdear boy. I never meet a stranger even now, without a momentary 
 feeling of distrust. And during all these years the one prayer of my life 
 ha^ been to meet the monster face to face. I think that such a meeting, 
 would for the time, turn this old heart to atone, and these arms into bars 
 of steel. Should that time ever come, wife, I'd kill him if I could. 
 
 Mabel. (outMde, l.) "Whoa Fanny ! (calling) Tim Gleason come here 
 and take the old mare 1 Come, stir your lazy stumps ! 
 
 Enter Mabel, l. 
 
 Ko mail father, but I've got something better. 
 
 Greene. "Well, well ! gal don't keep me Availing, out with it. 
 
 Mabel. Oh ! father, Lee's surrendered his Avhole army, and the war is 
 as good as ended. 
 
 3frs. G. Well, well, that does beat all, tell us more about it. 
 
 Mabel. Yes, yes, mother, (looking l.) "Where's Tim ? "Why don't he 
 come and put up old Fan ? 
 
 Mrs. G. He and Rose are out traipsiu' 'round some'rs. She'll catch her 
 death cold in sich weather. 
 
 Mabel, (looking h.) There they are now, nut under the elm. "Well, you 
 see father, when I got down to the village, I saw little squads of men all 
 around the streets and the flag at full mast on the common, and when I got 
 to the office I learned the cause. I stopped to get all the information I 
 could, but at last I heard the boys were going to fire a salute, in honor of 
 the event ; so thinks I to myself, I'd better be going, tor I knew the noise 
 would put the old mare in Yankee-doo<ile spirits. You'll hear it father, 
 soon. "NVhen it's eight by the village clock. 
 
 Greene. The sooner the better child. This has been a long and bloody 
 war wife, but at last victory is ours — we triumph in the right, (pause, clock 
 in room r., strikes eight, at its close a heavi/ gun is heard in the distance) Hear 
 that wife. Welcome sound, (looking l.) Whoa old 7nartl There, Tim's 
 come to his senses at last. 
 
 Enter Rose, l. 
 
 Rose. What is it Mabel, more news ? I heard a gun just now. 
 
 Mabel. Yes Rose, the glorious victory that brings to an end this bloody 
 war. Ob, how I long for the return of the noble soldiers, who have periled 
 their lives that we might enjoy our freedom. Does this sentiment find no 
 approval in your heart. Rose ? 
 
 JJo6e. (striking her breast) You bet it docs I 
 
THE REWAED OF CRIME. 6 
 
 Mabel. "Why, Rose, what an expression. ♦ 
 
 Jtose. Well, I dou't care. There ain't no use of my trying to be high 
 toned, for I couldn't if I would, and what's more, I wouldn't if I could. 
 But I <^o love the soldiers and some that ain't soldiers. But come, Mabel, 
 let's go up to our room and sit by the window and listen to the firing. OhI 
 it's a lovely evening. {ciic7i) Hear that, will you. Come? 
 
 Mabel. Yes, Rose I will go. [goes to door, r', stops and turns) Why don't 
 you come, Rose ? 
 
 Jtose. {looking about her) I do believe I've lost my handkerchief. Oh 
 no, here it is. {takes it out of pocket and sanps it — going r. 
 
 Greene. I declare Rose, what ye got on yer han'kercher? It smells 
 wuss'n a skunk. 
 
 Rose. It's "Xight Blooming Melancholy." Have some INIr. Greene? 
 {Snaps handkerchief in his face) Come Mabel, I'm ready — "scoot". 
 
 {both exit, L. 
 
 Mrs. G. I don't know what under the sun is going to become of that 
 gal. You can't find her ecal in the whole state of Vermont. 
 
 Greene* Clarinda, I never heard you complain of Rose's not attending 
 tu her duties, and as long as she does that, du let her have a little fun. I 
 don't w^ant any of these wooden headed, taller faced critters mopin' 'round 
 me. {gun) 
 
 Enter Tim, l. 
 
 Tim. Say, Boss, what in thunder's the racket? What's the row down 
 in the village ? Shouldn't wonder if them rebs had got another darned 
 lickin.' 
 
 Greene. Better'n that, Tim, better'n that. Old Lee has found out he 
 was barking up the wrong tree, and has handed over his meat cutter to Gen. 
 Grant, together with his whole army. 
 
 Mrs. G. I vum ! I must see to my yeast or we sha'n't have any bread 
 to-morrow ! {exit, r. 
 
 Tim- {taking Mrs. Greene^'i chair and putting 7iis feet on the table) Well 
 Boss, I'm glad the boys are comin' home. I've had more'n a dozen gals to 
 beau 'round ever since the war commenced. 
 
 Greene. Well Tim, you've been quite reconciled to your fate, or I'm no 
 judge. 
 
 Tinr. That sounds bully. If I ever took anything, this would be one of 
 them t mes. But I go on the temperance principle. Xow I never had any 
 particular hankerin' arter a man tha' sold rum or drank '« There's Jin. 
 Fletcher, he used to dish out pails-full of it over to Cornii^li, but since lie's 
 been keepin' the "Green Mountain House" up at Pittstield, he dont sell a drop 
 Yer see that's a temperance town, and the folks do say that's the best 
 tavern they've had there for years. Now there's that Simon Barrs, 
 and that Brandon Coyle, I've seen them lately, when I thought they's pret- 
 ty well guzzelled. I tell you what 'tis, Mr, Greene, I don't think that Bran- 
 don Coyle is about here for any good. He's loungiu' away his time down to 
 the hotel, and once or twice he's been »ver to the diggin's preteiidin' 
 he's prospeetin" fer gold, and between you and I, Boss, I believe he told the 
 truth. But depend upon it, he's lookin fer the manufactured article, and 
 my opinion is, he'll take it wherever he can find it. 
 
 Greene. Well, Tim Gleason — bless your honest heart — my opinion is 
 you've got a wrong idea in regard tu them two gentlemen. You know prej- 
 udice goes a long way Tim, that's what I tell Clarinda. {gicn. 
 
 Tim. What in fury is he hangin' 'round here fer duin' nothin' ? And 
 there's Barrs, my opinion is, he ain't mucii better. I tell you what 'tis 
 boss, I'd like tu hav' 'em both yoked up and hitched tu a side-hilled plow, 
 down on the medder bymeby. I'd like tu drive em tu break up about an 
 acre'n a half. 
 
 Greene. Tim Gleason, you have your 'pinion, and I have mine— which 
 both on us has a perfect right tu. 'But really I don't think you speak of 
 those gentlemen in sich a manner as gentlemen should be spoken of. 
 
« THE REWARD OF CRIME. 
 
 Tim. Them's my sentiments exactly, and if I had the least idea they 
 ■"'a'n't regular devils I'd swaller every word I've said — I would I swau ! 
 But, say, Mr. Greene don't you think Simon Barrs is gettin' pretty numer- 
 ous 'round Mabel ? 
 
 Greene. Well, what of that? 
 
 Tim. Xothin' only I thought I'd tell ye. 
 
 Mrs. G. {from back c. calling) Come Hazel it's gettin' tu be most bed 
 time, and you know you've got tu bile that sap tumorrer. 
 
 Greene. Yes Clarinda, I'm a comin' {gun) That's a good one. Such 
 music as that will sooth me tu sleep, I know. , {exit,c. 
 
 Tim. {getting up) Now the case stands just like this, zactly. Brandon 
 Coyle and Simon Barrs are tew miserable scamps — Barrs in particular, and 
 I'm goin' tu keep an eye open for him. He's soft soajjed old Greene over 
 pretty slick ; but 'twont work on me 'cause 1 don't use soap. He means tu 
 get a slice of the old man's money and Mabel into the bargain. But he 
 can't du it. {strikes his hands together) Mabel hates him, and I hate him, 
 and if he goes to swellin' round her much more, I'll "pull down his vest" 
 for him. Hart Hawkins, he's goin' tu Australia. That's bad 'cause he's 
 sot his life on Mabel Greene and if it wan't fer pride and poverty he never'd 
 go. But I a'n't goin' tu stand 'round and see any i;nderhanded business 
 goin' on. If it was my case and that varmint was after Rose, you'd see me 
 tear 'round some. Well, I s'pose it's 'bout bed time, {hangs up his hat, as 
 the scene closes he is removing coat and boots) But a feller can't sleep much 
 its 80 darned noisy, {gun) Let her bim, I'll pay the damage. 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 SCENE SECOND— Tiwo months later— Coyle* s room in the Kedron Hotel— 
 Coyle ar\d Barrs seated at table, front, c, on which are bottles and glasses — 
 Coyle in his shirt sleeves and slippers, is filling tcp glasses. 
 
 Coyle. Take a drop partner, then I'll listen to a recital of your plans. 
 Do you think old Greene will swallow our bait ? 
 
 Burrs. That depends upon how we play our cards, {both drink) With 
 the jilan I propose, 1 think we will be able to get our fingers on some of the 
 old man's money, aud also work ourselves into the good graces of the two 
 girls. 
 
 Coyle. I have serious doubts there Simon. Perhaps Gi*eene's gal will 
 allow you to make love to her ; but that Rose Cranberry is a regiilar little 
 wil'i-cat. 
 
 Barrs. You are faint hearted noio Coyle. I tell you we will accomplish 
 our desires. If we can't do it owe way, we must do it another. That's too 
 good a chance to let slip. It will take time Bran, but we can afford to wait, 
 for if our little game succeeds — and it must — we'll rake in a nice little pile. 
 In the mean time I shall have to draw on you for funds, and to tell the 
 truth I'm getting in pressing need of them, for I must make old Greene 
 think I've got oceans of money. 
 
 Coyle. Of course Simon — call on me, I've got a few shiners left. 
 
 Barrs. I sha'n't be bashful, it isn't like one of my nature. By the way, 
 T don't think I've been overwell paid for the several little job'* I've done 
 for you, especially, Brandon Coyle. the one I finished in this section eight 
 years ago. I tell you what 'tis partner, that took courage as well as pa- 
 tience. 
 
 Coyle. So it did Simon, you did it slick too. You covered your tracks as 
 completely as if they had been made on the bottom of the ocean. Fill up 
 your glass Simon, I'll do the square thing by you, never fear. Besides, you 
 ought to be satisfied with Mabel Greene', she's the one who has got the 
 
m 
 the 
 
 THE REWARD OF CRIME. 7 
 
 money, while the Rose you've left me haa nothing but thorns, (both drink) 
 
 Barrs. You see Coyle, the night I settled Frank Green's account, every 
 thing was m my favor. At the time old Greene was largely engaged in the 
 butter speculation. I knew he was expecting the money in payment for a 
 large shipment he had made a few days previous. I saw Frank Greene go 
 to the express office. I followed. I saw him come out and place a package 
 m his breast, I dogged his footsteps. The night was black as ink. I 
 overtook him at the cross roads and— well you know— I got a cool thousand. 
 What if the little beauty, his sister, knew of this interesting chapter in 
 my history : wouldn't these parts be M^arm for me ? Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 CoyJe. Have a care Simon, walls have ears sometimes. But, come, away 
 with all this 1 Let me know what you propose to do in the approaching cam- 
 paign. 
 
 Barrs. First I must manage to get a hoM on the old man's money bags ; 
 then I fancy the other matter will be compa.ratively easv. To do this 1 must 
 have plenty of manufactured security. With my notes and stocks in the 
 Sugar River Rail Road, and a good story of the wonderful benefits to be de- 
 rTvedfrom an investment in the .Michigan Copper Mining company, I im- 
 agine the old yankee will swallow the bait with verv little chewing. 
 
 Coyle, But you forget, Simon, there's a suspicious pair of eyes in that Ti 
 Gleason's head ; and then there's Hawkins, he despises you as he does tl 
 Evil One himself 
 
 Barrs. "What ails you to night Coyle ? Where's vour backbone ? Do you 
 think I'd let such an idiot as Tim Gleasoii, block my path? As for Haw- 
 kins, he's soon to sail for Australia and when once he's away I'll take good 
 care that he doesn't visit Vermont again in a hurry, and I'll place a gulf 
 between him and Mabel Greene, ^vider than the Atlantic ocean itself, {rises 
 and fills both glasses) Here's to your health, Brandon Covle, and to the suc- 
 cess of our little undertaking. May the day be not far'distant, when the 
 beautiful Mabel Greene shall become the wife of Simon Barrs {both drink 
 
 Enter Tim, r. 
 
 Tim. What'd er say ? {Coyle, l. c. Barrs, c. Tim, r. c.) 
 
 Coyle. {aside— advancing to front, L. c.) Heavens I He's overheard our 
 conversation, {appears cor.fused) 
 
 Barrs. Sir, why do you enter here in this unceremonious manner? 
 
 Tim. Well, I didn't know but what you'd like to come up and help the 
 boss hoe out them taters. Help's scarce, and he needs some one powerful 
 bad, {aside) and I thought you's as bad as any one. {slaps back of his hand) 
 Confound them merskeeters. 
 
 Barrs. What's all this to me? 
 
 Tim. Nothin' only I thought I'd tell ye. 
 
 Coyle. It is generally custon.ary to knock before entering a gentleman's 
 room. 
 
 Tm. I always do squire, whenever I fiud 'em. 
 
 Coyle. Do you mean to insult me ? 
 
 Ti7n. Oh, no squire, I don't know enough fer that. 
 
 Barrs. Come, come ! Coyle no words here, {aside to Coyle) Wait! {to Tim) 
 Will you take a drop Mr. Gleason. 
 
 Tm. Well, I don't care if I don't, {slaps his face) Darn them pesky crit- 
 ters they'll swaller a feller whole pretty soon — I never make a practice of 
 drinkin' any thing stronger'n old cider; but when you come to raw whisky, 
 a man as is a man won't touch it. 
 
 Coyle. {starting) Say that again and I'll knock you down. 
 
 Tim. Oh, go soak yer feet. ( Coyle makes a dive at him, Tim catches him by 
 the collar, at the same time tripping and throws him on floor, c.flat on his face 
 Barrs then straightway attacks Tim, tvho pla^its a bloio on his breast, knocking 
 him down, as he falls he strikes the prostrate body of Coyle and falls across him 
 at nearly right angles. As Barrs turns on his face to get up, still lying across 
 
8 THE REWARD OF CRIME. 
 
 Coi/Ies body, Tijn jumps on the back of Barrs and standing there says) Let her 
 bim I'll pay the damage. 
 
 QUICK CURTAIN. 
 
 SCENE THIRD — Room same as in Scene first — Hawkins and Mabel seated 
 at table centre of stage. 
 
 Hawk. Mabel, remember it is for your sake that I have determined 
 upon this undertaking, and which I trust in the end will be lor our mutu- 
 al advantage. 
 
 Mabel. If it is for my sake Hart, then stay at home. Think of the dan- 
 gers which beset your path in such an undertaking as this. Pardon me 
 Hart, but it's naught but your foolish pride which prompts you to this ac- 
 tion. 
 
 Hawk. Foolish or not, Mabel, I have weighed the subject well in all its 
 bearings, and have made up my mind in accordance with my honest con- 
 victions of what is best. My love for you would bid me stay ; but my duty 
 to you bids me go. And Mabel as this evening is our last before I depart let 
 it not be a gloomy one. 
 
 2Iabel. I'll try, but my heart is far from gay. Three years you know is 
 a long time to wait, and the thought of these many dreary days, fills my 
 soul with misgivings. Look well to yourself, Hart, and beware uf Simon 
 Barrs, for unless I am a poor judge of human nature, he is a bad man, and 
 how my lather can be so blinded by his flattering ways, I can not under- 
 stand. "Why, the very sight of that man, causes a chill to my heart, and 
 why it is I know not, for he is always smiling and pleasant. But friend or 
 foe to me, depend upon it he's an enemy to you. 
 
 Hawk. I am well assured of that, Mabel, dear, and you as well as my- 
 self know the reason why. He imagines I stand between you and him — 
 that were it not for me he could marry you. Mabel his greatest favor in 
 your father's estimation is his money. Strip him of his supposed wealth, 
 and your father's estimate of him would be brought to a level with that of 
 many other 3'oung men of his acquaintance — Hart Hawkins for instance. 
 
 2Iab. Money, money ! that Avord has been rung in my ears so often that 
 I almost hate the very sound of it. While 1 must ailmit, partially, the 
 truth of what you say, I yet believe my father respects you as a man or he 
 never would have given his consent to our engagement. Yet 1 cannot 
 deny that a large bank account to my father's mind is an absolute necessi- 
 ty for a young man engaged in any of the active duties of life. 
 
 Haivk. What such a scheming villain, a& 1 believe Simon Barrs to be, 
 will resortto I know not; but of this much I am well aware. He will never 
 give up his base intentions as long as he thinks there is the least possibility 
 of turning the tide of circumstances in his favur. Mabel, my greatest anx- 
 iety, while 1 am away, will be, that you will become a victim of his evil 
 persecutions. Whether, or not, you will be true to me I need not ask. 
 
 Mab. Dear Hart, whether living or dead, I'll be true to you forever. 
 {bows her head on her hand) 
 
 Enter Rose, r., with waiter, on which is a dish of apples, plates, 
 knives, etc. — Placi'itg waiter on table. 
 
 Rose. Aren't them beauties? Which will you have, Mr. Hawkins — 
 sweet or sour? AVhy, I declare I how lonesome you do look. And Mabel, 
 too. But, come try these, {pushing a plate of them towards him, and filling 
 the other plates) 
 
 Hawk. Thank you, Rose, I know they are splendid. 
 
 Rose. How can you tell before you try them ? 
 
 Hawk, (smiling) By the looks of them, Miss Rose. Now, the first time 
 I ever saw you, 1 knew you were good. 
 
THE REWARD OF CRIME. 9 
 
 Enter Tim, r., with a pitcher of cider, and glasses. 
 
 Tim. (a^fZoor, R.) And I can swear tu that, 'squire, coz I've tasted uv 
 her. 
 
 Jlose. {throws an apple at him, which he manages to dodge) Tim Gleason 
 stop your noise. ( Tim advances to table, Jills glasses— Mabel takes a plate of 
 apples — Rose does the same, and sits in chair, extreme L.) 
 
 Hawk. What have you there, Tim ? 
 
 Tim. Cider. Hev a drop, Mr. Ilawkins ? Help yourself, and drink all 
 ye want, {during the following, Tim takes an apple, drinks a glass of cider. 
 
 certain things. Now, I don't believe a whole pail-full of cider would etfect 
 me one darned hooter. {Mabel and Hawkins are eating and drinking and en- 
 gaged in fragments of conversation, in a low tone and exchanging smiles and 
 significant glances, as Tim is talking) Some ov them critters in the Le"-isla- 
 ter up tu Montpclier, tried tu git a bill passed compellin' a man tu drink 
 his own apple-juice, and making it a crime tu sell or give away cider after 
 it was thirty days old ; but the t»ill did not pass.* 
 
 Eose. Yes, and some old fogy introduced a bill for the protection of 
 skunks.* 
 
 Tim. Probably the old fool never had any experience with one ov them 
 quadrupeds. Say, Rose, don't you remember that night when I's comin' 
 home from the village ; down there by them elder-berry bushes, I see some- 
 thing runnin' along in the diteh : so I grabbed a rail off from the fence and — 
 
 Jiose. Tim Gleason, we can dispense with that experience. 
 
 Tim. That's what 1 thought; but the skunk didn't seem to think so. 
 [goes to table, dri^iks, continues eating apples ail the lohile) 
 
 Mab. Rose, are not these apples delicious? 
 
 Rose. HuUy. 
 
 Mab. Rose Cranberry! What did you say? 
 
 Rose. I used a slang phrase, and I said it before I thought; but it's just 
 like me. Pray, excuse me, Mr. Hawkins. 
 
 Haiok. 0! certainly, Miss Rose. 
 
 Mab. Tim, where are father and mother? Perhaps they would have 
 come in. 
 
 Tim. No, I told yer pa, and he said, no, he'd read a spell and then go tu 
 bed. Yer ma, she was slicin' apples fer a dumplin' tu-marrer, and said 
 she would not come in tu night. She wanted me to give her best wishes tu 
 Mr. Hawkins, and Oh, Mabel! I like tu forgot, shesaid she wished you and 
 him tu meet her in the parlor for a short time. I tell yer what, Mabel, I 
 know Avhot's the matter. She'll wait 'till your pa's abed, coz she's some- 
 thin' particular tu say tu IMr. Hawkins. 
 
 Mab. Very well, Tim. If you will excuse us, I think we'll go now. 
 {rises) Come, Hart, father is probably in bed, or will be soon, and 1 am 
 very anxious that mother shall see you. {Haiokins rises) 
 
 Tim. Oh! never mind u--«, Miss Mabel. Rose and I will try and pass 
 away the rest of the evening someway. Good night, INIr. Hawkins, I'll see 
 you off to-morrow. {Jiaxokins and Mabel exit, r.) It's somethin' about them 
 two miserable cusses down tu the hotel, {comes back to chair) They're tryin' 
 tu play some game on the old man, pretendin' they're interested in the 
 Michigan Copper Mining Company and lots of other big soundin' humbugs. 
 They've been workin' their way into Greene's favor, all summer. Mrs. 
 Greene sees through their mask of deceit; but her husband won't hear a 
 word to any one. He thinks they are the very models of perfection. I 
 think they are the very models of deviltry 1 Hazel Greene, look out for 
 
 ♦ A fact. 
 
10 THE RE^VARD OF CRIME. 
 
 yer money. Hart Hawkins, look out fer yer girl. Tim Gleason, gather your 
 Cranberries. 
 Rose. Tim, what nonsense are you getting off now? 
 
 Tivi. I was thinkin' I'd got tu keep an eye on Brandon Coyle. The 
 villain's got an idea he's goin' to coop you, Rose. 
 
 Rose. Let him dare open his mouth to me, and I'll give him a piece of 
 my mind, "you can bet your stamps on that." 
 
 Tim. That's the right kind of spirit, Rose, {aside) By gosh, ha'n't she got 
 the ginger! {aloud) "Come, bring your chair over, side uv mine, an' let's 
 have a little sociability tugether. 
 
 Rose. Not much ! i like you well enough ; but I a'n't goin' tu foller you 
 aroiuul, 'or any other man.' If you want my company, come where I am. 
 
 Ttm. I ha'n't never made it a practice tu run arter the gals, and I don't 
 think I'll commence now. 
 
 Rose. Stay where you are, then, Tm willing. 
 
 Tim. So he it. I can stand it if you can 
 
 Rose. If you didn't want me, what did you say so for? 
 
 Tim. I didn't. 
 
 Rose. I say you did. 
 
 Tim. {rising) Let it be distinctly understood, that I didn't say so. {sits 
 
 Rose. What did you say, then ? 
 
 Tim. I told you to take your chair and bring it over here, side uv me — I 
 ■wanted it to rest my feet in. 
 
 Rose. Tim Gleason, you are the sauciest man I ever saw. 
 
 Tim. I don't commence with you — I^uisaucel you are nothin' but sass, 
 an' sour sass tu. 
 
 Rose. Will yon please explain yourself, sir? What do you mean? 
 
 Tim. I had reference when I spoke, tu Cranberry sass. 
 
 Rose, Tim Gleason ! 
 
 Tim. Yes, that's me — Timothy Hucklebuster Gleason. 
 
 Rose. Do you know what you're talking about? That's an insult, {rises 
 and stamps her foot) and don't you dare repeat it ; 
 
 Tim. Sho! then I won't ; but I tell you what I will do: I'll meet yer 
 half way. Let's not have any hard feelings. 
 
 Rose. Kow you are comin' to your senses, {both bring chairs to c, at L. 
 of table — Ti7n 'fills two glasses with cider) Let's have a good talk together. 
 
 Ti7n. Well then, this mess of gab, you don't call talkin, du ye? But 
 come, {hands glass) I ask yer pardon. Will you pledge me your love in a 
 glass uv this? {takes other glass 
 
 Rose. With pleasure, {holds up glass) Here's to my love in the sparkling 
 glass. 
 
 Tim. (holding up glass) May I ever be fond of Cranberry sass. {both drink) 
 I swow that's good. Come, my dear, let's sit down and have a little "teter- 
 tc-te." Hadn't ye better take another apple? I swan, I guess I will, {takes 
 one and goes to eating it) I allers did like apples. I'm darn'd glad we're goin' 
 tu hev an apple dumplin' to-marrer ; there's nothin' 1 dote on more'n them. 
 Mrs. Greene, she makes 'em purty fair ; but she can't quite come up tu 
 marm. She used tu take a hull pan lull uv flour, with sallyratus, sour milk, 
 kerosene and all them fixins. Then she'd take a hull stack uv apples an' 
 roll into it, and bile it in a big iiiller case, then tai<e it out smokin' hot and 
 p lur a hull lot uv linamcnt over it. 1 tell you what 'tis Rose, it makes putty 
 homstackuos eaten'. 
 
 i2o.sc. To judge by your description any one would think that eating 
 apple-dumplings is the heighth of your aniI)ition. 
 
 Tim. Well, it a'n't : there's a good many other things I hanker arter. 
 Firstly and foremostly, I like you. Rose, {puts his arm around her and 
 kiiscs her) 
 
 Rose, Of all this world 1 Tim Gleason, don't you dare do that again. 
 
 {slaps his face 
 Tim. Never a rose without a thorn. You a'n't a bit like cousin Minnie — 
 
THE EEWARD OF CRIME. ' 11 
 
 Cousin Minnie, she lives up tu Sherborn, and it's the darndest place tu git 
 tu, you ever see in the world. It begens tu snow there, right arter hayin' 
 time, and blows like a hurrycane all winter and don't go otf 'til the corn 
 begins tu cum up in the spring. 
 
 Jtose. Do you expect any one tu believe that? 
 
 Tim. Fow can 1 tell 'til I try 'em? But it's a fact, when I was comin' 
 down the mountain, I froze both ears harder'n a flint, an' cousin Minnie, 
 she thawed 'em out with milk and water, then arter that, we sot down tu 
 supper; but I couldn't eat only seven or eight warm biscuit, my ears smart- 
 ed so. In the evenin' we all played keerds^ and mighty ! Cousin Minnie 
 and I cleaned out everything that tackled us. 
 
 Jiose. Well, I declare ! that Cousin IMiunie, as you call her, must be a 
 wonderful creature. 
 
 Tim. You're right thpre ; but you needn't worry, Eose, 1 a'n't forgettiu' 
 you. Say, give me another smack, will you ? 
 
 Bose. 0, Tim ! aren't you ashamed? 
 
 Tm. {kisses her) Not a mite — I wouldn't mind a dozen just like 'em. 
 {knock heard l.) Oh thunder I Say, Rose, shall 1 let 'em in ? 
 
 Eose. {jumps up) Of course. Why don't you go and see who it is? 
 
 Tim. I don't care, {knock) Come in. 
 
 Enter Simon Barrs. 
 
 Barrs. Good evening, Mr- Gleason. I beg to be excused for intrudino- 
 upon you at this late hour ; but 1 would like to see the master of the house. 
 Ah ! pardon me Miss Cranberry. Good evening. {extending haul 
 
 Bose. {turning scornful /i/ awar/ and waving him off) No sir, 1 decline tha 
 honor. 
 
 Barrs. But Miss Cranberry, surely 
 
 Bose. 0— h botner ! 
 
 Tim. {unbuttoning his coat — in a loud ivhisper.) Rose if you say so, I'll lick 
 him in half a minute. \buitons coat 
 
 Barrs. Surely, Miss Cranberry, I have never given you cause for such 
 conduct. 
 
 Bose. Simon Barrs, if you have any errand, please state it. {going r.) 
 You will please excuse me. * {exit e. 
 
 Barrs. i repeat, Mr. Gleason, can I see jfmr master * 
 
 Tim. I suppose you can if you go where he is. 
 
 Barrs. {aside) I will have to humor this fellow, {aloud) Will you take 
 me to him ? 
 
 Tim. Yes, and another chap just like you. {abcvt to take him in his arms 
 
 Barrs. Come, come, that's a good joke; but tell me where I can find Mr. 
 Greene. 
 
 Tim. Sha'n'tduit. 
 
 Barrs. Then I must find him without. {goes r. 
 
 Tim., {unbuttoning clothes as before) See here, squire, don't you remember 
 I paid you a short visit down tu the Kedron notei, last spring? 
 
 Barrs. {aside) 1 do to my sorrow, {aloud) Well, well, that's long past I 
 don't bear any malice on that score, {aside) How shall 1 manage this tellow ? 
 {aloud) But really 1 must see your master. JMy business is of importance. 
 
 Tim. So's his'n. 
 
 Barrs. What is he doing? 
 
 Tim. Snoring, most likely. 
 
 Bar-rs. Idiot ! I'll brain you. {starts for Tim xoho squares off— Barrs 
 hesitates) 
 
 Ti7n. Well, that's what you're most in need uv. {Tiyn advances, Barrs 
 backs of) Say, do you want to pawn any superfluous hide, over your eye? 
 
 Bam. {starting — clenches his hands — leans forward) Fool! you have been 
 a stumbling block in my path long enough. I'll put an end to your career 
 at once, {makes a movement to his breast as for a revolver — Tim anticipates 
 
12 THE EEWAED OF CRIME. 
 
 the movement and quickly drmos one from his ovjn pocket and presents it to the 
 face of Barrs before he gets his hand on his own.) 
 
 Tim. Kot quite so fast. Do you see that ? Don't ye so much as wiggle. 
 Hand over that speakin' trumpet, quick ! Do ye hear ? Or I'll let yer bars 
 down mighty sudden. {Tim advances — Barrs hands him his revolver, with it 
 Tim points to door., l. — Barrs dodges) Villian 1 Fiend 1 Monster 1 Boa 
 Constrictor I there's the door, WIGGLE I 
 
 TABLEAU. 
 
 TIM, E. F. BABES, C. B. 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 ACT 11. 
 
 SCENE FIRST. — Three years later — Kitchen of thQ Greene family, same 
 as act first scene frst, with a fcio changes of 25ict2<re, furniture &c. — Hazel 
 Greene at frevlace, k. c, with newspaper and candle, reading very intently — 
 Mrs. Greene, extreme l. c, picking over beans, candle burning on table beside 
 her. 
 
 Mrs. G. {sollli qui sing) Poor husband ! what a change has come over him 
 within the last three 3'irars. Over work and anxiety is fast wearing him 
 out. As soon as his day's work is done, he takes his paper, and his whole 
 attention is taken up in reading the stock reports, until he goes to bed. 
 Day after day, night after night, whether sleeping or waking, his whole mind 
 seems to be centered on money matters. He watches the fluctuations of the 
 stock market with a feverish anxiety ; until I begin to have fears that his 
 reason will be shattered. And Simon Barrs is at the bottom of it all; That 
 man seems to have my poor husband completely in his power; but how 
 much of his money he has succeeded in getting, I cannot tell. And my 
 poor Mabel : between the pleadings of her father and the untiring persecu- 
 tions of Barrs, not one moments peace of mind has she enjoyed since Hart 
 Hawkins left us nearly three years ago. Poor Hart! what has become of 
 him ? Not one word Irom him since he weut away ! What can it mean ? 
 Surely if he is living we should have heard from him in some way. What 
 did Mabel mean by telling him to beware of Simon Barrs? Can it be that 
 there is some secret gnawing at her heart, which she has not revealed? 
 Does Simon Barrs know anything about the mysterious silence of Hart 
 Hawkins ? Has he dared threaten our Mabel ? If I thought — but no Hart 
 Hawkins is perhaps lost to us forever. 
 
 Greene, {reading to himself) One-hundred-and-twenty shares at twenty- 
 eight per cent, advance from last quotation. That's good. I always knew 
 there's money there, and depend on't. Hazel Greer e, they're goin' higher. 
 1 wish I had a thousand or two handy, I'd make a venture there ; but still, 
 I've no cause to complain. ISIy investments are paying heavy interest now. 
 1 let Simon have five thousand dollars, two years ago, and over. That's 
 })aid me ten per cent, every year, and the other day I let him have another 
 five thousand. I hope to make him one of the family before long, 
 Simon's sharp ; he knows how to get money. 
 
 Mrs. G. Ah husband! but are you sure it's perfectly safe? 
 
 Greene, {starting and turns chair partially) Eh, wife! you here? Safe! 
 What, do you think I'm blind ! Hasn't Snnon always met his payments 
 promptly ? He's as solid as any bank in Vermont. 
 
 Mrs. G. I wish I could feel sure of it Hazel; but ten thousand dollars is 
 a large sum to place in any man's hands. I hope it's all right husband ; 
 but 1 have my doubts. 
 
 Greene. That's just the way with you. You're always mistrustm' some- 
 thin' 'bout everybody. Simon never gave us cause to doubt him, did he, 
 Clarinda? Besides, I've got good security for more'n double the amount. 
 
THE REWARD OF CRIME. 13 
 
 Mrs. G. But whv does he force his unwelcome attentions upon Mabel ? 
 If he had been a gentleman, he would have left her in peace long ago. 
 Certainly he knows his protestations are distastful to ber. 
 
 Greene. Clarinda, Simon loves the gal tu destraction, and she'd consent- 
 ed tu marry him, long ago if it hadn't been fer you. 
 
 Mrs. G. Ho loves her to destruction, more likely ; hut husband did you 
 not sanction her engagement to Hart Hawkins. , , . 
 
 Greene. Well, what if I did. He's dead long ago. Or, if he is alive, 
 he's as dead tu her, or she would hev heard from him, and besides it s tinie 
 she was gettin' married, Clarinda, an' Simon '11 make her a good husband. 
 He's rich wife, he's rich. . .u- ^n 
 
 Mrs. G. Is money the one great essential for a man m this worm. 
 Hazel? Do bags of gold overbalance the weighty sins of a wicked man? 
 I believe husband, chat money is getting to be your Evil Genius, and that 
 Simon Barrs will never be content 'till Mahel is in his power, and every 
 cent of vour fortune is under his control; but rather than see our daughter 
 wed to him, 1 would go forth penniless, into the streets, and beg my living 
 from door to door. 
 
 Enter Mahel l. — stops. 
 
 Greene, {comes forward) I tell von what, wife, the world may profess to 
 dispise money ; but a brute who has it, receives more honor than a good 
 man without it. Money is the missing link that joins respect to the disre- 
 
 spectable. , , . .. • ii.o ov u 
 
 Mab. But father, granting what you say to be true, is it right? pliould 
 we it^nore the noble a^id God -given qualities in a person, because of their 
 poverty' Again: should we reverence a man around whose name, there 
 rests a cloud of darkness, although he be the possesser of a mountain of 
 gold f No, never ! we should not base our opinion ot a person by the out- 
 side appearance which he presents to the Avorld. All the true, the noble 
 and heaven-born principles which constitute the true man, lie within. 
 
 Greene. Well, well, child, we were speaking of Simon. Is there a per- 
 son who can speak the truth and say a word against his character ? 
 
 Mab. Yes father, a thousand times yes. 1 am that person. bather i 
 tell you now, as 1 have told vou many times before, that Simon Barrs is a 
 wiekea man. I have told you, 1 did not love him ; I tell you now, I hate 
 him, and Avill never inarrv him. I am sorry to disobey you, father; but 
 sometime vou will see your mistake in giving him encouragement, and be- 
 lieve me, father, the tinie is not far distant, when the true character ot that 
 man will be shown to the world— blacker than Egyptian darkness. 
 Mrs. G. (to hersdf) I'm proud to be that girls mother. ^ 
 
 Greene. Oh, Mabel ! I can't believe what you say. I know you re not 
 light headed. I know vou don't speak in this way witnout a weighty reas- 
 on , but I can't believe that he is as bad as you would have me think. IJo, 
 Mabel, I will not compel you to marry this man. I once made a vow, id 
 die before I'd force you to marry a man you did not love. Well as i liKe 
 money, I'll never sell my own daughter to gain it. ^ , ^, , 
 
 Mab. Oh, bless you, father I you know not the comfort those words give 
 
 me 
 
 Mrs. G There, then that joh's done. I must go and put 'em to soaTc. 
 (takes beans— goes to Greene) Hazel, you've done a noble act, and no one 
 will bless you more then I. I have feared that gold wae the curse of your 
 life. I am glad your eyes are opened at last, {puts arm around htm— kisses 
 
 Greene! {smiles) Ah, Mabel, vour ma's growing young again. _ 
 
 Mab. And so am 1 father, I hav'n't felt so happy for years, {hsses him— 
 
 Greene, (pauses-meditates . c.) Am I a fool ? No ; but I've acted like one. 
 That kiss of my dear old wife, and her happy smiling face, awakened rec- 
 ollections, which have slumbered for years, while I in my greedy thirst for 
 
14 THE EEWARD OF CRIME. 
 
 gold have been dead to all tender emotions. It awoke within me the mem- 
 ory of earlier days, when I was young. Yes, and to the time when I hadn't 
 a cent in the world. When my dear old wile — God bless her — saw fit to 
 link her late with mine. I forgot that I was poor once. Ltt Simon Barrs be 
 good or bad, I'll encourage hiiu no more. Will he prove f.iJse to my trust 
 when he learns the truth ? Has he blinded my eyes and ctiU^ht me in my 
 own trap? No; I cannot believe it; but what matters it to me? If 'l 
 have been a fool I'Jl bear the consequences like a man. Ten thousand dol- 
 lars is a large sum to loose ; but the old farm's left and I'm getting old. 
 Soon I shall be where the value of gold is unknown. The old place is good 
 for another ten thousand, and Mabel will have it all when I am gone. But 
 what am I saying? — Simon '11 T>ay — Simon '11 pay; but if 'tis lost, I've 
 enough left, and to spare. Death may foreclose his mortgage on me ; but 
 he can't touch the old farm. exit :.. 
 
 CURTAIN. 
 
 SCENE SECOND — Kedron Hotel, nearly same as Act first, Scene first — 
 Brandon Coyle pacmg up and. down the room — as curtain rises thunder is heard. 
 
 Coyle. Can anything have happened? Simon should have been here 
 this morning, and it is now after eight o'clock. Can there be trouble ? No, 
 surely not. Simon don't know what trouble means. I wish this confounded 
 business was ended, and it must be soon, we've managed our little af}'nir 
 pretty well, though — been seen in each others company but very liitli'. 
 No one suspects but what I am an honest miner, and Barrs an industrious 
 speculator — ready to turn his hand to anything that will bring him in a 
 a penny. They're about right there too. Ha, ha ! And my little mining 
 operation has brought me in a nice little sum. (lightning) The two men I'v< 
 kept at work have added a nice little sum to my account, {thunder) AVhat 
 a night, {rain) I should not like to be caught out in such a deluge. 
 
 Enter Barrs, k. 
 
 Bless my soul 1 Did you rain down ? Why! there's not a feather ruffled. 
 bit down. 
 
 Barrs. {both drink) I left my coat and umbrella in the hall ; but why di> 
 1 find you shut'up here alone? You got the note I sent you, of course ? 
 
 Coyle. Your note? No, I have not received it. ^ 
 
 Barrs. {jumping up) What ! did you not receive a note' from me last 
 night? 
 
 Coyle. I certainly did not. Please explain. 
 
 Barrs. It means, then, that I've got to look out for my neck. I was a 
 fool for ever trusting it to that boy. 1 should have seen you instead. If it 
 is destroyed, I do not care. I hoi:)e the little brat made it into wads for his 
 pop-gun. 
 
 Coyle. Well, well, ten to one, it is M'here it will never be discover- 
 ed. It is destroyed, probably. What was in it that frets you so? 
 
 Burrs. Enough, I should say. If that letter falls into any bodies hand, I 
 should, straightway have an invitation to a neck-tie sociable, down at Wind- 
 sor. You see partner, Bill Butterfly's gut a soft little job there at Rutland, 
 so he wanted me to meet him there at the "Coftee House." this morning. 1 
 liadn't time to come and find you, so I wrote you a note, and sent it by 
 'stjuire Deans litlle imp of the gutter. I told you to take 'your traps, and 
 meet us at the "notch." You see Bill gwt his plans all laid for a litile bon- 
 fire. Well, after I arrived at the "Cofl'ee House," we started for the place of 
 meeting, after waiting there until the middle of the afternoon, and you not 
 putting in an appearance, I knew something must be wrong, so we "put the 
 case over," as the lawyers say, and 1 hastened back, and here I am. 
 
 {lightning 
 
THE REWARD OF CRIME. 15 
 
 Coyle. Ila, ha, ha ! So I see ; but I fail to see any great cause to fear. 
 
 {thunder 
 
 Barrs. But you haven't heard the worst, in that letter I happened to 
 mention making a h'le in a certain chap. Fool, that I was. 
 
 Coyle. Away with all such fears. Time enough for the fox to run, after 
 the hounds start. {goe-% to cupboard) Here's something that will put 
 new courage into you. {j)uts bottle and glasses on table 
 
 Barm. Well, that's what we've got to have. 1 tell you old pard, the 
 sooner we finish our business in this section, aud take up our quarters in 
 some other locality, the better it will be for our necks. 
 
 Coyle. Ha, ha, ha ! { fills and hands glass) Here, try this, {both drink) 
 I'm agreed — when shall we move? 
 
 Barrs. {lighten") At once — Old Greene is getting suspicious of me. It's no 
 use waiting longer, {thunder) And it is clear to my mind, that those girls 
 will never be ours by tair means, and if that is so they shall by foul, or one 
 of them, at least. By my faith, Coyle, I don't believe you care a fig for 
 Rose. 
 
 '- Coyle. Well to tell the truth, 1 don't. If she had some money, 'twould 
 make a difference, and furthermore, I think one will be enough to manage 
 Bother, Rose Cranberry? I'll help you off with the other one if you can 
 get her. Then let's get out of these diggins, or we may get "panned out." 
 I'll take my shire of the money, and let the girl take care of herself j but 
 what is your plan ? 
 
 Barrs. This : to-morrow night — you know, being the night before the 
 fourth, I'll go up to old Greene's and spend ttie evening. I'll induce Mabel 
 to walk with me in the moon-light, under the elms. We'll stroll down by 
 the spring, I'll put a cap over her mouth, and hand her into a carriage, 
 which you shall have there, and away we go. {lightning — thunder 
 
 Coyle. That seems to mean business — so do we; but really, that must 
 have struck close by. Oh, it's a fearful night — Just the time to plan for 
 deeas of darkness. ' If it is like this to-morrow night, your cake will be 
 dough. 
 
 Barrs. Depend upon it, this won't last long. It'll be all clear in the 
 morning. You won't fail me Brandon ? 
 
 Cosle. Did I ever ? Ko, I'll be the last one to back, now. My courage 
 improves with practice, and besides it's agoing to make quite a difference 
 in my financial matters. You've got ten thousand dollars of the old man's 
 money. Half of that's mine, and then you'll do the handsome by me for 
 helping to get the girl. 
 
 Barrs. {laughs) Don't scheme too close on a fellow. Bran, my place will 
 be a ticklish one ; but I'll do the square. 
 
 Coyle. Of course you will. Come fill up again, before you go out. {Jills 
 both glasses) Here's success. 
 
 Barrs. {lightning) Here's luck to chloroform, gags and a steady nerve. 
 
 {hoth drink — thunder 
 
 CURTAlISr. 
 
 SCEN"E THIRD— Farmer Greene's parlor. 
 
 Enter Tim, R., scratching his head. 
 
 Tim. Them telegraphs are kinder curus things. I never could see 'zact- 
 ly how they worked. I was down tu the depot, this arternoon, an' they had 
 one o' the consarns on the table there. It looked as much like a 
 big parin' macnine as anythin', A feller, he sot there, and kept haulin a 
 strip of paper out o' the'r machine, and all the time it kept up a tarnal 
 racket — sounded like an old gobler, pickin' up corn out o' a tin pan. Arter 
 a while, the feller gin me a letter, an said take thet up tu Mr. Greene. So 
 
15 THE REWARD OF CRIME. 
 
 1 hastened up with all dispatch. Xow, whatbeats me is this: it said some 
 one was coiiiin' on the late train, tu spend the fourth with us. Didn't have 
 no name on it, nor nothin'. I don't see who'n thunder 'tis. S'pose we've 
 got tu wait an' see. I hope that darned skunk in t'other room w^ill continue 
 tu han<» 'round a spell longer. Won't there be lively times afore this 
 nif'ht's'^th rough? {laugha) Shouldn't wonder it this (^a/te« Ze^^er/7-om pocA;- 
 e^° dispatch opened some folks eyes some. I found it right on the bridge 
 when I'se goin' down to the post-office. Seein's there wan't no name on't I 
 thought I'd cabbage it. I've kept mum , but I'll make it hot fer ihct cuss 
 in t'other room, afore another hour rolls over his head. It's time Rose was 
 here now. I don't see what the reason is, she hasn't come. I'd a gone 
 mvself, only 1 wanted tu keep my eye on Simon Barrs. Besides, the jour- 
 ney's just what suited Rose, tu a T. Wouldn't he like to get his fingers on 
 this? {reads) "Partner, follow, and meet me at the Kotch, at once. Bill is 
 on a new scent, and we may be able to pluck a brand from the burning. 
 Then we'll return, and close accounts with old Greene. I'll give him credit 
 of being a blind old fool, and credit myself with ten thousand dollars and 
 the girl. That will probably end my business with the Greene family. 
 Well, twice is about enough to open your ledger in such business, M-ith one 
 firm. Wouldn't my wife, that is to be, caress me, if she knew it w^as me, 
 who let day-light into her brother Frank ? But time's up. and I must start. 
 Follow close upon my heels, and we'll be back in time to finish up business 
 here. S. B." S. B. — Swindlin' Bull-frog. Yes, so I see. I'm glad ye got 
 back in time. Shouldn't wonder, old feller, if the next account you opened, 
 Avas with the towu constable* 
 
 Enter Rose r. 
 
 Ros^e ITa, ha, ha ! But wouldn't I inake a professional? I'm almost 
 temjited to try it, my first eifort Avas so successful. Ha, ha, hal 
 Tim. What'n thuuder ails ye ? When'd you git back ? 
 Rose. Oh ! but won't we have some fun now? Tim : Brandon Coyle is 
 in the hands of a keej^er. The sheriff and his three deputies will make all 
 haste and will soon arrive. As I passed through the silting room, 1 saw 
 the handle of this, {shoics revolver) peeping out of his coat. I had such a 
 good opportunity that I could not withstand the temptation. As 1 passed 
 him, I tri)>ped, and caugiiton the back of his chair, and at the same time 
 caught this, made my excuse and here I am. Wasn't it a good joke thotigh ? 
 Tivi. As he is quite liable tu have occasion tu miss it, I must say it was. 
 {puts his arm around and kisses her) So was thet. 
 
 Rose. 'V\m, how dare you, when I've got a revolver? 
 Ti7n. Kill me quick, I'm tew sweet ttt live. 
 
 Enter Hazel Greene, R., foUoioed by Simon Barrs. — Rose conceals rcvch'cr. 
 
 Greene. Pshaw, pshaw! not a word— I won't listen. The night's warm 
 and we've got tu wait fer our unknown friend, ana you shall stay, and keep 
 us company ; so no more objections. 
 
 Barrs. IBut, Mr. Greene, 1 do not wish to intrude. 
 
 Greene. You won't, not a bit. Mabel aeems inclined tu prefer the old 
 roof in ]trefercnce tu any young man's inducements, an' I guess I shall let 
 the gal do as she is a mind tu. She always has — pretty near; but you can 
 kee]> rue company. 
 
 Rose. Yes, Mr. Barrs, stop a while, we're expecting visitors. 
 
 Barrs. If such be your wish of course I cannot refuse. 
 
 Enter Mabel, k. 
 
 Miss Greene — Mabel, why must I endure your presence, when I listen in 
 vain for one encouraging word, from your lips? 
 
 ^fabcl. Simon Barre, why renew this conversation? I have told you 
 many times, that your case is hopeless. Pray never refer to the subject 
 
THE REWARD OF CRIME. 17 
 
 again, in my presence, for 1 shall never marry you. I am the promised 
 wife of Hart Hawkins. 
 
 Barrs. Tben you're the promised wife of a dead man. He's food for the 
 fishes, long ago-. You will never see his face again ; but if he was alive, 
 he'd never come to claim you. He was as false as the wind that blows. 
 
 Enter Hart Haiokins, L. 
 
 Hawk. Simon Barrs, you lie 1 
 Barrs. [aghast) Hart Hawkins ! you here? 
 
 Mab. Alive, alive! Oh! Hart! {rushes to his arms 
 
 Hawk. Yes, Simon Barrs, I'm here to help block your little game. I 
 have learned all. Thank heaven, I am in season. Villian, that you are ! 
 Barrs. Have a care, Hawkins, that's hard talk. 
 
 Greene. That's an insult, Mr. Hawkins, and don't you dare rej)eat it in 
 my house, unless you have the proof. 
 
 Barrs. Mr. Greene, let me look on the man's face, that dare say he cah 
 prove me to be a villian or a liar. 
 
 Tim. If thet's what yer a hankerin' arter, just cast yer optics on my 
 countenance. 
 
 Greene. Tim, explain yourself, sir. {starting 
 
 Barrs. Will you allow the rabble of that idiot to have any bearing, sir? 
 
 Tim. Hold oia squire, I've no doubt you'd murder us all, if you could — 
 seein' it's right in your line o' business. 
 
 Barrs. Fool, swallow those words, or I'll shoot you as I would a dog! 
 {puts his handin -pocket for revolver — Rose ste2'>s up presents avd cocks revolver) 
 
 Jxose, Face your own music, Mr. Barrs. Tim, go on. {all are astonished 
 
 Tim. Friend Greene, listen to this letter, which came into my posession 
 rather unexpectedly. {reads letter — Jtose keeps revolver pointed at Barrs 
 
 Hawk. So, this is your game, is it ? i thought I was posted ; but here is 
 a little episode in your miserable career, with which 1 was heretofore un- 
 acquainted. 
 
 Greene, {very excited) So this is the viper, I've nourished in my bosom. 
 Inhuman monster that you are ! I've been warned of you long before ; but 
 fool that I was, those friendly words of warning were thrown aside for the 
 flattering words, which came from your oily tongue. You, the murderer 
 of my dear boy ! Oh, let me get at him ! (starts for Barrs ; but is held hack 
 hy Mahel) 
 
 Mab. Father, do not stain your hands with blood, {to Barrs) Miseratle 
 man, may a just God have mercy on you — I cannot 
 
 Barrs. Ha, ha ! I see you've found me out ; but don't fancy you'll get 
 any revenge out of me. Good evening, {attempts to exit, l. — Rose advances 
 
 Bd^e. Kot another step or I fire ! 
 
 Barrs. Confusion ! I forgot you. ( 7Vm goes, l. , and calls outside 
 
 Tim. Men, are you there? {policemen's rattles outside, k., l. and c.) Ye 
 see, 'squire, Ave've made preparations fer this little tea-paity. Ye can't git 
 away — the pickets outside are tew numerous. 
 
 Barrs. 1 see my little game is balked at every turn ; but I'll never be 
 taken alive. Think not that you will ever see your intended victim dangle 
 from the end of a halter, {to Rose) You have one weapon ; but I have this 
 left, {draws dirk) and with it I'll send my guilty soul to meet the many 
 victims of my bloody crimes, {stabs himself,— falls c.~Mabel screams and 
 nearly faints ; but is supported by Hatokins) 
 
 TABLEAU. 
 ■Ease and Tim, L., JIaivkms and Mahel, b., Greene, r. C. 
 
 CURTAII^. 
 
18 THE REWARD OF CRIME. 
 
 SCENE FOURTH — Sayyie as Scene first Aat first — Mr. and Mrs. Greene 
 enter r. as the curtaiii rif-es. 
 
 Mrs. G. Husband, I trust that the tragic scene of last evening, will 
 prove a warning to us all. What if our only child, had fallen a victim to 
 that man ? 
 
 Greene. Oh wife ! call him not a man ; hut rather a liendy^in human 
 form, and wife, let the lesson be for me alone. When I look back upon the 
 last three years, I shudder to think of the dangers to which, in my own 
 blind folly, I have been exposed, and which, had it not been for the hidden 
 hand of fate, would surely hsve provee our ruin. 
 
 Mrs G. Yee, Hazel, and let us be thankful our misfortunes are what 
 they are, rather than what they threatened to be. 
 
 Greene. Our experience, wife, has been dearly bought ; but my old heart 
 was never brighter, than on this beautitul anniversary ot our national indi- 
 pendence. The love of money has nearly proved our ruin; but henceforth 
 I will ever bear in mind the old proverb, "All is not gold that glitters." 
 
 Enter Tim, l., wiping face vnth sieve — hat in other hand. 
 
 Tim. Whem ! It's hotter'n Floriday, and the merskeeters'll chaw a 
 a feller up, by'm-by. We had quite a surprise party last night — didn't, wa 
 Mr. Greene? Jimminy ! but that miserable galoot got disgusted with him- 
 self pretty puick, when he found his bread, was buttered side down, didn't 
 he? 
 
 Mrs. G. Timothy, remember he's gone where the wicked cease fi'om 
 troubling. 
 
 Tim. Well, I don't know 'bout thet. If I had done what he has, I 
 should expect to land right in the equitoriax regions of Hell, and if I's 
 goin tu write tu him, there's where I should address my communication. 
 At any rate, I'm glad he's paid his own fare. He has saved the state of Ver- 
 mont, five hundred dollars, clean cash. 
 
 Enter Mabel and Hawkins , R. 
 
 Mnh. Now, sir, you shall explain your sudden appearance among U3. 
 
 Tim. Yes, tell us where'n thunder you've been. 
 
 Greene, {doming forward, takes Havfkins hy the hand.) Mr. Hawkins, we 
 are all anxious to hear an account of your wanderings ; but first of all, let 
 me ask yoar pardon, for sending you away, for I did do it — a word from me 
 would have kept you here. 
 
 Hawk. Never mind friend Greene, that is past, and besides, it is better 
 that it was so. You know I left on board a merchant vessel : well, in due 
 course of time we put into the port of Melbourne, and as large numbers 
 were going to the mines, I procured my discharge from the merchant serv- 
 ice, determined to try my luck, with many others, in the gold mines of 
 Ballarat. I bought a claim for a mere trifle, that had been abandoned, and 
 went to work. After I had been there a short iime, I thought I would let 
 my friends know, if dossible, where I was. I wrote a letter" to Mabel, giv- 
 ing a full account of my adventures, up to the time, and telling her I would 
 write again, whenever a favorable opportunity presented. 
 
 Mah. You did write to me then ; but I never received it. 
 
 Hawk. Quite likely. I knew tue chances were in favor of its never 
 reaching you, as all the mail was sent on the ocean steamers, plying be- 
 tween Australia, theFeejee and Sandwich islands, and connecting with San 
 Francisco. Although the Pacific rail road is now completed, at that time 
 it was in its infancy, and the mail conveyances across the far west, were 
 quite uncertain. Well, as I said, I went to work in the mines. I worked 
 eaWy and late for eightteen months. At first I got discouraged, poor luck 
 faced me every day ; but at last there was a change. As I sunk deeper mto 
 the earth, the yellow dust grew plenty. I worked with renewed energy- 
 determined that if it was gold that advanced a man's standing in the world, 
 1 would never rest content until I had it. 
 
THE REWARD OF CRIME. I^ 
 
 Greene. Hawkins, my toy, I have at last found out — tloxigh sad has 
 been my experience — that Clarinda was right, a mau should udt be judged 
 by the clothes he wears, cr jDerchanee, the fortune he inherited j but never 
 earned. 
 
 Hawk. Do not mistake my meaning, friend Greene. I never wish to de- 
 ceive the world in regard to my ability, humble though it be ; but to con- 
 tinue: at the end of a year and a half, I sold my claim, and sailed for Syd- 
 ney. While wandering through the streets of that town, one day, I saw a 
 carriage, drawn by a pair of furious horses, dashing up the street at full 
 speed. It was the work of a moment to plant myself in front of them, and 
 as they were about to pass, I caught them by the bits, and alter beinf 
 dragged a long distance, brought them lo a stop. 
 
 Mrs Cr. Laud o' mr.ssy, boy I W^eren't you hurt? 
 
 Hawk. I was somewhat. My ankle was fractured, and I fainted as soon 
 as the horses were safe. When I came to myself, I was at "Government 
 House," and soon learned that I had rescued the Governor General of New 
 South Wales, and his invalid daughter. As soon as I was able, I wrote you 
 again, Mabel. 
 
 Mab. That I never received. 
 
 Hawk. Of that I am aware , but it did not miscarry. It fell into the 
 hands of Simon Barrs. How, it matters not nowj but it was found this 
 morning among his effects. 
 
 Greene. Oh, the villian ! 
 
 Tim. Oh, the miserable snake 1 
 
 Enter Rose h.,fannmg herself with hat. 
 
 Rose, Why do you agitate the air so? Is it hot? 
 
 liosc. You bet it is' — ^just a little around the edges. Ah, good moraing, 
 Mr. Hawkins, I hope you are well, after the exciteing scene of last evening. 
 I think I'll apply for a position on the police force. Wasn't he astonished 
 to see his own weapon looking him in the tace? Ha, ha, ha ! 
 
 Hatvk. I congratulate you. Miss Rose, upon the way you managed. Had 
 he not been completely cornered he might have given us trouble unawares. 
 As for my health, 1 assure you, it never was better; {turning to Greene) but 
 for the rest of my story, Mr. Greene. When I found myself at "Govern- 
 ment House, with a fractured limb, I requested to be moved to a hotel ; but 
 The old general would not listen to my entreaty. I received every atten- 
 tion that it was possible to suggest, and when I had sufficiently recovered, 
 the old gentleman surprised me by appointing me his private secretary, at 
 agoodsalery. This position I now hold, if I return soon to the duties of 
 the offices. It rests with you whether I go or not. 
 
 Greene. Then I say you sha'n't go. I've drove you off once, and now 
 we'll keep you if we have to tie you up. 
 
 Tim. I say, friend Greene, if you tie him up with the right kind of a 
 knot, I guess he'll stay. 
 
 Mab. Tim ! 
 
 Hose, {stainpivg) Tim ! 
 
 Greene. Ha, ha, ha ! I see, I see. Clarinda, from this day, I'll be a 
 different man. I'll worship, no more the god of gold ; but here, content in 
 the bosom of my own family, surrounded by loving acts, and kind sympa- 
 thy, I'll pass the remainder of life's voyage, in quietness, and peace, and 
 we can celebrate the birthday of our nation in no more befitting way than 
 by making happy the young hearts around us. 
 
 Mrs G. Yes, yes, you dear old soul I Let me anticipate what you would 
 say, and assure you of my heart- felt encouragement. 
 
 Greene. Hart, my boy, once I thought I made a mistake, when I prom- 
 ised you this dear girl ; but I've seen my error, and I hope you'll forgive me 
 and now take the prize, which I've withheld from you so long. 
 
 Hawk. Friend Greene, the past shall be forgotten. That your intentions 
 were good I never for a moment doubted, and again let me thank you for 
 
20 THE REWARD OF CRIME. 
 
 the promise, you have just given. I assure you, all that money can do for 
 the advancement of your daughter'* happiness, will be done. 
 
 Greene. My boy you say you are rich ; for this, I am truly glad, {to Tim) 
 Tim, you've been like an own son to me, and as this young couple have 
 money enough of their own, and will soon make for themselves a home, 
 you'll stay with us, and when we're gone, the old farm shall be all yours. 
 
 Tim. If such is your wish, farm or no farm, I'll never leave you, and 
 my thanks, though they come from a heart that is rough, are none the less 
 sincere ; but, I say Rose, hadn't we better have one o' them knots tied, thet 
 I was mentioning? 
 
 Rose. The sooner, the better to suit me. Somehow this proverb keeps 
 running m my mind : "never put off 'til to-morrow, what can be done to- 
 day." 
 
 Tim. Good ! This evening shall see me a happy man of family. 
 
 {kisses her 
 Greene. Hart, Mabel — children, I think you've waited long enough. 
 Why not further celebrate the day by a double wedding? 
 
 Tim. Yes, friend Hawkins, let's enlist for life, together — 'twon't cost a 
 darned cent more. 
 
 Hawk. I leave the matter in these dear hands. Her wish shall be my 
 law. 
 
 Mah. {archly) Then let's make but one job of it. 
 
 Greene. Then to-night shall see us all, a happy band, bound by a tie, 
 stronger and more precious than gold — the silken cord of love. Hart, my 
 boy, as I give my only remaining child, into your keeping, I ask that you 
 will profit by my sad experience, and never cast aside the love of true and 
 honest hearts, for the sordid love of gold. 
 
 Journeying down the river of life, should our bark 
 
 Be tossed on a crest. 
 Let as put down the helm, with a steadfast arm. 
 And enter the haven of rest. 
 Mrs. G. Or if angry breakers beset our way, let our 
 Courage never abate, 
 For with honest hearts and noble deeds, 
 We shall reach the pearly gate. 
 Mah. Our moral surely's plain and clear. 
 
 To every one assembled here. 
 Hawk. Well then, my dear, if that is so, 
 
 A word to our friends before they go. 
 Rose. What shall it be ? Stop I let me think. 
 (Take care, Tim, you needn't wink.) 
 We thank you all for your kind applause. 
 And the interest you've taken in our cause. 
 Tim. And when'ere you chance to pass this way, 
 Just give us a call, in a friendly way, 
 
 And we'll gladden your visions, whenever you pass. 
 With little editions of Cranberry sass. 
 
 Tim. Rose. Gbeesr. Mrs. Greene. Hawkins. Mabel. 
 
 a. CUBTAIN. L. 
 
AMES' SXAIVDARJD A.N]D MINOR DRAMA. 
 
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 40. THAT MYSTERIOUS BUNDLE. A Farce in one act, by Hattie Lena 
 Lambla. 2 male, 2 female characters. Costumes, modern. Scenery, a plain 
 room. A Variety peice, yet can be performed by Amatuers, etc. A Mysterious 
 
 bundle figures in this farce, which contains a . Time of performance, 20 
 
 minutes. 
 
 41. WON AT LAST. A Comedy Drama in 3 acts, by Wybert Reeve, 7 male, 
 3 female characters. Costumes modern. Scenery, drawing-room, street and 
 office. Every character is good. Jennie Hight starred on the character of "Con- 
 stance" in this play. Amatuers can produce it. Time of performance, 1 hour 
 45 minutes. 
 
 42. DOMESTIC FELICITY. A Farce in one act, by Hattie Lena Lambla, 1 
 male, 1 female character. Costumes modern. Scene, a dining room. The name 
 fully describes the piece. Very funny. Time of performance, fifteen minutes. 
 
 43. ARRAH DE BAUGH. A Drama in 5 acts, by F. C. Kinnaman, 7 male, 
 5 female characters. Costumes modern. Scenes, exteriors and interiors. A 
 most exquisite love story in a play, abounding in scenes of great beauty. The 
 depth of woman's love is beautifully shown. Time of performance about two 
 hours. 
 
 44. OBEDIENCE, OR TOO MINDFUL BY FAR. A Comedietta in one 
 act, by Hattie Lena Lambla, 1 male, 2 female characters. Costumes modern. 
 Scenes, plain room and bed room. An old fellow who thinks he is very sick, be- 
 comes vely peevish and particular. A plot is formed to break him of his foolish- 
 ness. Very amusing. Time of performance twenty minutes. 
 
 45. ROCK ALLEN THE ORPHAN, OR LOST AND FOUND. A Comedy 
 Drama in one act, by W. Henri Wilkins, 5 male, 3 female characters. Costumes 
 modern. Scenes interiors. Time, during the Rebellion. This play represents 
 the real "deown east" characters to perfection. An old man and woman are al- 
 ways quarreling, and their difficulties are very amusing. Time of performance, 
 one hour and twenty minutes. 
 
 46. MAN AND WIFE. A Drama in five acts, by H. A. "Webber, 12 male, 7 
 female characters. Costumes modern. Scenery exteriors and interiors. This 
 drama is one of'intense interest and is a faithful dramatization of Wilkie Collins' 
 story of the same name. This is said by competant critics to be the best dram- 
 atization published, and it should be'in the hands of every dramatic company 
 in the country. It has become a great favorite. 
 
 47. IN THE WRONG BOX. An Ethiopean Farce in one act, by M. A. D, 
 Clifton, 3 male characters. Costumes, peddler's and darkey's dilapidated dress. 
 Scene, a wood. Characters repiesen ted, a darkey, an Irishman and a Yankee. 
 Time of performance twenty minutes. 
 
 48. SCHNAPPS. A Dutch Farce in one act, M. A. D. Clifton, 1 male, 1 fe- 
 male character. Costumes, burlesque German. Scene, a plain room. A neat 
 little piece for two Dutch players, introducing songs and dances. Time of per- 
 formance, 15 to 30 minutes, at the pleasure of the performers. 
 
 49. DER TWO SURPRISES. A Dutch Farce in one act, by M. A. D. Clifton, 
 
 I male, 1 female character. Costumes, peasant's, and old man's and old woman's 
 dress. Scene, a kitchen. A very neat little sketch, introducing songs and 
 dances. Time of performance, about twenty minutes. 
 
 50. HAMLET. A Tragedy in five acts, by Shakespeare, 15 male, 3 female 
 characters. Probably no other play by the immortal Shakespeare is produced 
 as frequently as this one. It needs no description. Time of performance about 
 two hours and thirty minutes. 
 
 51. RESCUED. A Temperance Drama in two acts, by Clayton H. Gilbert, 5 
 male, 3 female characters. This play visibly depicts the dangerous consequen- 
 ces of falling into bad company, the follies of the intoxicating bowl, and shows 
 that even the pure love of a noble girl will be sacrificed to the accursed appetite. 
 The solemn scenes are balanced by the funny portions, and all in all the play 
 is a grand success. Costumes modern. Scenes, interiors some neatly and some 
 handsomely furnished. Time of performance one hour. 
 
 52. HENR Y GRANDEN. A Drama in three acts, by Frank Lester Bingham, 
 
 II male, 8 female characters. This drama is sensational in a high degree, 
 abounding in thrilling scenes among the Indians, hair breadth escapes, etc. It 
 should be purchased by every dramatic company that wish something to suit the 
 public. Costumes not hard to arrange. Time of performance two hours. 
 
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 53. Orr IN THE STREETS. A Temperance Drama in three acts, by S. N. 
 Cook, 6 male, 4 female characters. Wherever this drama has been produced it 
 has been received with the greatest entVusiasm. Listeners have been melted to 
 tears at the troubles of Jlrs. Bradford, and in the next scene been convulsed 
 with laughter at the drolleries of North Carolina Pete. Costumes modern. 
 Scenes, interiors. Time of performance, about one hour. 
 
 54. THE TWO T. J's. A Farce in one act, by ISIartin Boecher, 4 male, 2 fe- 
 male characters. Costumes of the day ; scene an ordinary room. This is a cap- 
 ital farce and has two male characters excellent for light and low comedians. 
 Good parts also for old and young lady. Time of performance thirty minutes. 
 
 55. SOMEBODY'S NOBODY. A Farce in one act and one scene, by C. A. 
 Maltby, 3 male, 2 female characters. Scene, interior. PJasily arranged 'n anv 
 parlor or hall, as it can be produced without scenery. Costumes modern with 
 the exception of Dick Mizzle's which is hostler's and afterwards extravagant 
 fashionable. This most laughable farce was first produced at the Drury Lane 
 Theater, London, -where it had a run of one hundred and fifty consecutive 
 nights. It is all comic, and has excellont p.irts for old man, walking gent, low 
 comedy, walking lady and chambermaid. Time of performance, 30 minutes. 
 
 56. WOOING TINDER DIFFICULTIES. A Farce in one act and one scene, 
 by John T. Douglass, 4 male, 3 female characters. Scene, handsomely furnished 
 apartment. Costumes of the day. Probably no poor fellow ever wooed under 
 more distressing difficulties than the one in this farce. It all comes about 
 through a serious misunderstanding. A crusty old man, and a quarrelsome and 
 very important servant go to make the farce extremely funny. Time of per- 
 formance thirty minutes. 
 
 57. PADDY MILES' BOY. An Irish Farce in one act, by James Pilgrim, 5 
 male, 2 female characters. Scenes, exteriors and interiors. Costumes eccentric, 
 and Irish for Paddy. Probably there is not an Irish farce published so often 
 presented as this one, but it is" always a favorite and is always received with 
 great applause. Time of peiformance 35 minutes. 
 
 58. WRECKED. A Temperance play in two acts, by A. D. Ames, 9 male, 3 fe- 
 male characters. Scenes, drawing ruorn, saloon, street and j ail. Costumes mod - 
 ern. The lessons learned in this drama are most excellent. The language is 
 pure, containing nothing to oflend the most refined ear. From the comfortable 
 home and pleasant fireside, it follows the downward course of the drunkard to 
 the end. AW this is followed by counterfeiting, the death of the faithful wife 
 caused by a blow from the hand of a drunken husband, and finally the death of 
 the drunkard in the madhouse. Time of performance about one hour. 
 
 59. SAVED. A Temperance Sketch in two acts, by Edwin Tardy, 2 male, 3 
 female characters. Scenes, street and plain room. Nicely adapted to amatuers, 
 Time of performance twenty minutes. 
 
 60. DRIVEN TO THE WALL, OR TRUE TO THE LAST. A Play in four 
 acts, by A. D. Ames. 10 male and 3 female characters. For beauty of dialogue, 
 startling situations, dejjths of teeiing tiiere is none on the American Stage supe- 
 rior to^this one. The plot IS an exceedingly deep one, and the interest begins 
 with the first speech, and does not for a moment cease until the curtain falls on 
 the last scene of the last act. The cast is small and the costumes easily arranged. 
 It can be played on any stage. It has parts for Leading Emotional Lady, Juve- 
 nile Lady, Leading Man, Villain, Character Old Man. First Old Man, Comedy, etc. 
 
 61. NOT AS DEAF AS HE SEEMS. An Ethiopean Farce in one act. 2 
 male characters. Scene, a plain room. Costumes exngerated and comic. Ex- 
 tremely ridiculous and funny. Time of performance 15 minutes. 
 
 62. TEN NIGHTS IN A BAR-ROOM. A Temperance Play in five acts, by 
 ■\Vm. W. Pratt, from T. S. Arther's novel of the same name — 7 male, 3 female 
 characters. This edition is rewritten, containing many new points, and is the 
 best ever presented to the public. Nothing need be ."^aidin its praise, as it is too 
 well known. It is often played, and always successfully. Time of performance 
 about two hours. 
 
 63. THREE GLASSES A DAY, Or, The Broken Home. A grand Moral and 
 Temperance Drama, in two acts, by W. Henri Wilkins, 4 male, 2 female charact- 
 ers. Costumes modern. Scenes, interiors. First-class characters for Leading 
 Man, Villain, a genuine down-east Yankee, which is also very funny ; also Lead- 
 ing Lady, and a tip-top Comedy Lady. If a company wishes something with an 
 excellent moral, at the same time running over with genuine humor, buy this. 
 Time of performance about one hour and thirty minutes. 
 
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 64. TJTAT BOY SAM. An Ethiopean Farce in one act, ty F. L. Cutler. 8 
 male, 1 female character. Scene, a plain room and common furniture. Cos- 
 tumes, comic, to suit the characters. Very funny, and effectually gives the 
 troubles of a "colored gal" in trying to have a beau, and the pranks of "that boy 
 Sam." Time of performance twenty minutes. 
 
 65. AN UNWELCOME EETLItN. A Comic Interlude, in one act, by Geo. 
 A. Munson. 3 male, 1 female character. Scene, a dining room. Costumes, 
 modern. Companies will find this a very amusing piece, two negroes being very 
 funny — enough so to keep an audience iu the best of humor. Time of perform- 
 ance, twenty minutes. 
 
 66. SANS, TEE DUTCH J. P. A Dutch Farce in one act, by F. L. Cutler, 
 fl) 3 male, 1 female character. An exceedingly funny piece. Hans figures as a 
 K Justice in the ab sence of his master, and his exploits are extremely ludricous. 
 ^ Costumes modern. Scene, plain room. Time of performance,twenty minut«s. 
 
 67. THE FALSE FRIEND. A Drama in two acts, by Geo. S. Vautrot. 6 
 male, 1 female character. Simple scenery and costumes. First class characters 
 for leading man, old man, villain, a rollicking Irishman, etc.; also a good lead- 
 ing lady. This drama is one of thrilling interest, and dramatic companies will 
 invariably be pleased with it. Time of performance, one hour and forty-five 
 minutes. ' 
 
 68. THE SHAM PROFESSOR. A Farce in one act, by F. li. Cutler. 4 male 
 characters. This intensely funny afterpiece can be produced by any company. 
 The characters are all first class, and the "colored individual" is especially fun- 
 ny. Scene, a plain room. Costumes, simple. Time of performance, about 
 twenty minutes. 
 
 69. MOTHER'S FOOL. A Farce in one act, by W. Henri Wilkins. 6 male, 
 1 female character. Like all of Mr. Wilkins' plays, this is first class. The 
 characters are all well drawn, it is very amusing, and proves an immense suc- 
 cess wherever produced. Scene, a simple room. Costumes modern. Time of 
 performance, thirty minutes. 
 
 70. WHICH WILL HE MARRY. A Farce in one act, by Thomas Egerton 
 Wilks. 2 male, 8 female characters. Scene, a street. Costumes modern. Easi- 
 ly arranged on any stage. A barber hears that one of eight women has fallen 
 heir to some money, not knowing which, he makes love to them all. This, to- 
 gether with the revenge the females have upon him, will prove laughable enough 
 to suit any one. Time of representation, thirty minutes. 
 
 71. THE REWARD OF CRIME, OR THE LOVE OF GOLD. A Drama of 
 Vermont, in two acts, by W. Henri Wilkins. 5 male, 3 female characters. A 
 drama from the pen of this author is sufficient guarantee of its excellence. 
 Characters for old man, 1st and 2d heavy men, juvenile. A splendid Yankee, 
 lively enough to suit any one. Old woman, juvenile woman, and comedy. 
 Costumes modern. Scene, plain rooms and street. Time of performance, one 
 hour and thirty minutes. Easily placed upon the stage, and a great favorite 
 with amatuers, 
 
 72. THE DEDCE IS IN HIM. A Farce in one act, by E. J. Raymond. 5 
 male, 1 female character. Scene, a plain room. Costumes modern. This farce 
 is easily arranged, and can be produced on any stage, in fact, in a parlor. The 
 pranks of the doctor's boy will keep an audience in roars of laughter, every line 
 being full of fun. Time of performance, thirty minutes. Order this, and you 
 will be pleased. 
 
 73. A T LAST. A Temperance Drama in three acts, by G, S. Vautrot. 7 male 
 1 female character. This is one of the most effective temperance plays ever pub- 
 lished. Good characters for leading man, 1st and 2d villain, a detective, old 
 man, a Yankee, and a capital negro, also leading lady. The temptations of city 
 life are faithfully depicted, the effects of gambling, strong drink, etc. Every 
 company that orders it will produce it. Costumes modern. Scene, Mobile, 
 Time of performance, one hour and thirty minutes. 
 
 74. HOW TO TAME YOUR MOTHER-IN-LAW. A Farce in one act, by 
 Henry J. Byron. 4 male, 2 female characters. Scene, parlor, supposed to be in 
 the rear of a grocers shop. Costumes modern. Whiffles the proprietor of the 
 grocery, has a mother-in-law who is always interfering with his business. Vari- 
 ous expedients are resorted to to cure her— a mutual friend is called in who, by 
 the aid of various disguises frightens the old lady nearly to death, finally Whif- 
 fles gets on a "ge-lorious drunk," and at last triumphs. A perfect success. 
 Time of performance, thirty-five minutes. 
 
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 13. THE SERF. A Tragedy, in five acts, by E. Talbot Esq.. 6 males, 3 fe- 
 male characters. Good parts for 1st and 2nd Tragedian, and Tragic lady. The 
 character of Oisip is very powerfully drawn. The history of his early love— of 
 his marriage— the indignities he is made to suffer, and the death of his wife, is 
 highly wrought ; and his sarcastic levity and deep revenge are unfolded witli a 
 terrible earnestness. Scene, apartments in castle. Time about 2 hours and a half. 
 
 17. HINTS ON ELOCUTION AND HOW TO BECOME AN ACTOR. This 
 valuable work has just been published, and contains valuable instructions tiiat 
 amateur actors, and every one that ever expect to make a favorable appearance 
 in public, cannot do without it. It teaches you how to become a good and ef- 
 ficient j-eader, reciter, deijater, a good actor, how to hold an audience silent, and 
 treats on every subject that is necessary to be acquired in order to become a 
 good and pleasing actor. 
 
 18. THE POACHER'S DOOM. A Drama in 3 acts curtailed and arranged 
 by A. D. Ames, 8 male, and 3 female characters. A thrilling drama, always a 
 favorite. Leading man, villian, two comedies, old man, loading lady, coinjdy 
 lady, etc. Costumes modern. The situationt in this play, are mo'.;t excellent. 
 Time of performance, 1 hour and a half. 
 
 19. Din I DREAM ITf A Farce in one act by J. P. Wooler. 4 male, 8 fe- 
 male ciiaracters. Scene, drawing room. The question "Did 1 Dre.ini it" is wiiat 
 the farce is founded upon. Very strange things happen, and a nice little love 
 scrape helps to color the plot. A good piece. Costumes simple. Tim.; of per- 
 formance 45 minutes. 
 
 2:). A TICKET OF LEA VJE. A Farce in one act, by Watts Phillips, ;J mile, 
 2 iVinale cliarai'ters. A play written by this author is sufticient guarantee <i[ 
 its exc'ik'iu'.'. Scene, asitting room, plain furniture. Costumes modern. Time 
 of ijerfjnnance, :io minutes. This is an excellent lan-e. 
 
 21. A ROMANTIC ATTACHMENT. A C .medi.Hta in one act, by Arthur 
 Wood, 3 male, :! femalt- characters. A most e.>teuiie. it little play, well adapted 
 for school exhibitions, lodges, amatuers, etc. Th ■ scenery is sim[)le, being a 
 plain nom, is always a favorite with every comjiuiy wliicli [ilavsit. Tinu; of 
 j)erformanfe, 3") miiuUes. 
 
 22. CAPTAIN SMITH. A Farce in one act, by M T. 'rrie, 3 male, 3 female 
 ciiaracters. TJiis excollenl little farce is equally well aihipted fm- school exhi- 
 bitions, etc., as No. 21. The dialogue is sjiarkling, not a dull speech from Ik;- 
 ginning to end. The plot .simple, the piece easily peitoriiKil. S cne, a plain 
 room. Costume's modern. Time of performance, 30 luiuuti^s. 
 
 2!. MY HEART S LW THE HIGHLANDS. A Farce in one act, by Wil- 
 liam Hroiigh and .Vndrew Halliday, 4 male. 3 female characters. Scene, exte- 
 rior of house in the lliglilands. (Costumes, .simiile Uighland. This farce is eas- 
 ily produced and ve.'v elleclive is full of fun, caused by the mishaps of twocliav- 
 actei-.-^, who go from tne city to the country, and do not know a jiig from a roe- 
 buck, nor a lurkey fro. a an ostrich. Time of pcM-formance, 25 niiiiuies. 
 
 24. HANDY ANDY. An Ethiopean Farce in one act, 2 male characters. 
 Scene, a kiiciieii. (.'istumes, exagerated and comic. The difi^iculticsi.i [irocu- 
 ring a good and suitable servant are most ludicrously set forlli in this farce. 
 Time of perfoniiaiicc, 20 minutes. 
 
 2."i. SPORT WITH .1 SPORTSMAN. An Ethiopean Farce, in one act, 2 
 inah; characters Costumes, exagerated si>ortsiiian's dre.ss, and boyish dre.ss. 
 Scene, a wood. Time of representation, 20 minutes. A tip toji negro farce. 
 
 2.;. THE HUNTER OF THE ALPS. A Drama in one act, by William- 
 Dimond, U male, 4 female characters. Scene in-door and forest. Costumes, 
 Swi.ss. Uosalvi, the hunter of the Alps leaves his home to j)rocure provisi.ins to 
 keep his wife and children from starving, meets Felix, a lord, and demands, 
 and rinallv implorL-s of him money. Felix moved with compassion gives him 
 iiioiiev and go 's with him to liis hut, and there discovers they are broth'.'rs. 
 There is some line comedy in it. The story is beautifully told. Time of per- 
 formance 1 hour. 
 
 27. FETTER LANE TO ORAVESEND. An Ethiopean Farcte in one act, 
 2 male characters. Scene, plain room. Costume, exagerated and comic. Tiie 
 two ciiaracters, Ike and liystericks are very funny, and will keep an audience 
 ill roars of laughter. Short, easily produced, and a tip top farce. Time of per- 
 form.uicc 15 minutes. 
 
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 j^ludisoii Morton, 4 male, 2 female chaiuctors. 
 
 arranged. Costiunes to suit the characters. Th 
 
 appreciated, and is a good one as are all of Madison munou s \iia^^7 
 edy cliaraeters aio excedent. Time of performance, 35 minutes. 
 2!». THE PAL\ TER OF GHENT. A Play in one act, by Douglass Jti ,.-„.. 
 
 5 male, 2 female characters. Scene in Ghent. (Dostumes of the country ai.d 
 l)criod. This is.a b'antifnl play of the tragic order. The character of the "Paint- 
 er of (Jhent." is one of grandeur and line language. He becomes insane at the 
 loss of cliildren, and being a painter, paints their portraits from memory. A 
 daugliter wiiom he supposes dead, returns to him, and he recovers. A giT.n.l 
 pley. Time of performance, 1 hour. 
 
 30. .1 DA y WELL SPENT. A Farce in one act, by John Oxenford, 7 male, 
 .') female eharactcrs. Scenery simple. Costumes, modern. Two clerks in tl • 
 al)sence of their "boLw" conclude to shut up shop, and have a spree. They get 
 into several scrapes with the females, have numerous hair breadth escapes, and 
 have a terrible tuue generally. Very amusing. Time of performance, 40 
 minutes. 
 
 31. A PET OF THE PUBLIC. A Faice in one act, by Edward Sterling, 
 
 4 mal", 2 feni:ile characters. Scene, parlor. Costumes, modern. In this farc(^ 
 tl)c l.wly a.vsaiies four distinct cliaracters, either of which is good. I'or an act- 
 ress of vci;iv-diity, it is a splendid piece, and amatuers can also produce it with- 
 out froubi It'caneitiier be used for a principal piece, or an afterpiece. Time 
 of lorfoi-ii we, C(0 minutes. 
 
 :;j. Ml YIFL'S RELATIONS. A Comedietta, in one act, by Walter Gor- 
 don, 4 mul 4 female characters. Scene, plain apartments. Costumes, n.o'lern. 
 A pleasi:;., little p;eee well suited to amatuers, school exhibitions, etc. A fel- 
 low marries, iier relatives comes to see her, are much more numerous than he has 
 an idea of. The denoumentis funny. Time of performance, 45 minutes. 
 
 3:'.. ON THE SLY. A Farce in one act, by John Madison Morton, 3 mal-, 
 2 femah^ characters. Scene, plain apartment. Costumes, modern. Husbands, 
 don't nevi.T full in love with your wive's dress makers— never squander your 
 nujney foolishly, never do anything "on the sly," for your wives will be sure to 
 lind it out. Tiiis farce explains it all. Time of performance 45 minutes. 
 
 34. THE MISTLETOE BOUGH. A Melo Drama in two acts, by Charles 
 Somerset,? male, 3 female characters. Scene, castle, chamber and wood. Cos- 
 tumes, doublets, trunks, etc. A most excellent Melo-Drama. Plenty of blood 
 and thunder, witii enough jolly, rollicking fun to nicely balance It. A great 
 favorite with amatuers. Time of performance 1 hour and 30 minutes. 
 
 35. HO ]V SroUT YOU'RE GETTING. A Farce in one act, by John Mad- 
 ison Morton, 5 male, 2 female characters. Costumes, modern. Scene, a plain 
 room. This is another of Morton's excellent farces. The comedy cliaracters !n 
 it are nicely drawn, and it always is a favorite. Easily produced. Time nf 
 pcrformaiu'e, 3.") minutes. 
 
 3(1. THE 31ILLER OF DERWENT WATER. A Drama in three aet^ i 
 I'M ward Fitzhall, 5 male, 2 female characters. Costumes, modern. .Soeiui 
 easily arranged. This is a touching little domestic drama, abounding in lii 
 si>eeehes, and appeals to the better feelings of one's nature. The "Miller" is ai. 
 excellent olil man. Twocome<ly characters keep the audience in good humor. 
 Time of performance, 1 hour and :>(» minutes. 
 
 37. NOT SO BAD AFTER ALL. A Comedy, in 3 acts, by Wybert Reeve 
 
 6 male, 5 female characters. Costumes, modern. Scenery, simple and easily ar- 
 ranged. Every character in this comedy is in itself a leading character, and 
 
 .everyone very funny. Probably there ia not a play in the language in which 
 every character is so funny a.s this. Time of performance, 1 hour 40 minutes. 
 
 38. THE BEWITCHED CLOSET. A Sketch in one act, by Hattie I..<'na 
 Lambla, 5 male, 2 female characters. Scene, Parson Grime'.'< kitchen, /"ostnims 
 modern. A lover goes to see his sweetheart, hides in a closet. Old man aj - 
 peawon tin- scene, thinks the closet bewitched. They iijir-et it. Old man i- 
 uightened— r'Mis away, r.very thing right etc. Time of jfcrformance, 15 niiiiut '^ 
 
 •.v.). A LIFKS lirAENOi:. A Drama in 3 acts, by Wm. K. Sut.-r, 7- tn:de 
 
 5 female cliaiaelcis. Cosluuies, I'lench, jn-riod Kldl. .Scenery. p:>hiei', i;aid ■• , 
 j»rison. Can lie arranged tiy amatuers Imt is a heavy piece. .V tine leading ni n 
 lieavy iiian.' a glorious conicdy, etc. Al.so leading lady, juvenile lady, coine<. > 
 lady, etc. This drama was a favorite with Harold Korsberg. Time of per ton; 
 aiK-e. •_• !inin-> ■'•;'! ir> Tiiiiiiite*. 
 
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