N * York TULLA R.MEREDITH CO. Chlcifo Best Entertainments for Any Time. Dialogs and Plays. A CORNER IN HEARTS. By Edna Randolph Worrell. Parlor play for 4 young men and 1 lady, or 5 men. Very amusing. All the lovers propose to the same girl. Rich humor; pleasing situations. Excellent for any time. 25 minutes. 15 cents. A DAY AT HAPPY HOLLOW SCHOOL. By Lettie Cook VanDerveer. A new play of the "Deestrick Skule" type. Up-to-date wit and clever drolleries. A city automobile party In contrast with rural youngsters. Lots of fun. Songs, etc., may be introduced. A capital piay to make money for church or school. 25 cents. A GOOSE AND SOME GEESE. By Eleanor Stinchcomb. A Jolly Mother Goose play with a very pointed climax. For 6 girls and ? boys. Time, 15 minutes. 15 cents. A HALLOWE'EN ADVENTURE. A lively play, by Effle Louise Koogle. Full of ghostly excitement and spooky frolic. Specially suited for social loccasions. 8 males and 8 females, or more. 3 scenes. 1 hour. 15 cents. A LITTLE HEROINE OF THE REVOLUTION. A play for all ages. By Elizabeth P. Guptill. A little girl is sent ostensibly to play with a _ friend, but really to carry a message to General Marion. She Is captured by the British, tut by her cleverness deceives them, and reaches her destination. Full of historic Interest. 10 males. 5 females. More boys may be added as soldiers. If desired. 25 cents. AL MARTIN'S COUNTRY STORE. A burlesque for from 15 to 30 par- ticipants, by Archibald Humboldt and Martelle Everett. Unsurpassed for merriment, taking qualities and ease of production. A country store with all its peculiar environments is depicted. The loafers, the small cus- tomers, the gossipers, the lovers, the innocent fun makers, all have parts. There is a graceful plot that gathers interest as the play proceeds and culminates in a brilliant climax. Unquestionably the greatest success as a popular entertainment. 25 cents CONTEST OF THE NATIONS, THE. A spectacular play or cantata, by Elizabeth F. Guptill. The Goddess of Liberty and 12 nations competa for the laurel crown. It embraces a fine march ; splendid songs by Archi- bald Humboldt. Very effective. 13 ladies. 25 cents.. CABBAGE HILL SCHOOL. A humorous play for ch ildren or youn g l-t-iola ftp a nonr "oIt^txtI- t ■ ■ ■ '"*"■ " _"___T1 people, by Elizabeth F. Guptill. Presents the trials of a new "skewl m*rm" on the opening day, and the performances of the pupils In the presence of august visitors on closing day. A veritable mirth-provoker. .Full of the richest humor. 10 males. 16 female characters (or less). 25c. CROWNING THE MAY QUEEN. A spectacular play by Elizabeth F. 1 Guptill. Children go Maying, select and crown a queen, wind the Maypole, and have a merry time. The frolic Is quickly changed to great excitement by the appearance of a gypsy, who attempts to abduct them. A very clever plot and a happy arrangement. 9 boys and 8 girls, or 17 girls. 25 cents. CUPID'S JOKE. A charming little drama in which Cupid plays an Important part. A splendid society play for St. Valentine's Day, or any social occasion. 5 male and 5 female characters, and Cupid. 3 scenes, 45 minutes. By Effle Louise Koogle. 15 cents. DIALOGS FOR ANY TIME, ORIGINAL. By Elizabeth P. Gnptlll. Interesting and amusing. May be given in any room with very few property requirements, by primary and Intermediate grades. The author's name is a guarantee of their excellence. They are ■witty, spicy and lively. 25 cents. DISPELLING OF BIG JIM, THE. A negro farce in one act. by Sterling O. Brewer. Decidedly humorous. Big Jim is being tried by the officials of Big Bethel Church for some misdemeanor. The trial is full of interesting occurrences and culminates in an exciting event. Full of darky humor. 8 male characters. 30 minutes. 15 cents. DOCTOR AND PATIENT. By John M. Drake. 2 male characters. Very funny. 5c. DOIG'S EXCELLENT DIALOGS. By Agnes M. Doig. Contains four excellent dialogs for the primary grades. "Keeping Store," 3 girls, 1 boy. "Guessing," 3 girls, J* boys. "Playing School," 4 boys, 4 girls. "Christmas Eve," 3 girls, 2 boys. 10 cents. DOLL DIALOG. This is a very instructive dialog for 4 little girls. 5 cents. DOLLY SHOW, THE. A dialog in rhvme for 1 little girls and 2 boys. The girls have a* baby show with their dollies, and each "mother" shows her baby off to the best advantage. •Hie Judge is unusually wise, awarding the prize to the satisfaction of each one. The sayings » of the little ones are cute, and the whole performance a great success. 15 cents. •••DOLLS* SYMPOSIUM, THE. A most unique and captivating play, by Elizabeth F. Guptill. It combines spicy dialog, fascinating drills, clever burlesque, entrancing songs and cunning antics. Children imper- sonate the dolls and do the most amusing stunts. Unequaled as a. surprising fun maker. For any number from 16 to 50. One-half to one and one-half hours, as desired. 25 cents. GOING TO MEET AUNT HATTIE. A dialog by Mrs. Hunt. For 1 male and 3 female characters. 5 cents. THE GOLDEN GOBLET. An exceedingly clever farce, with female cast, for Bachelor Girls' and Women's Clubs. Sororities, etc., by Louise Rand Bascom, author of "The Masonic Ring." Uproariously funny with absurd situations and comical elaborations. A "hit" for any occasion. Easy to produce. Any number of characters, but 12 required. 1 hr. 35c. HEIR OF MT. VERNON, THE. A Colonial Society Play for any occasion, in which Washington's social life, sterling manhood and cour- teous manners are portrayed. In one scene Christmas is celebrated in rare plantation style. Lively with old plantation melodies and pranks. By Effle Louise Koogle. For grammar grades or adults. 4 scenes, 8 boys and 8 girls, or more will be better. 1 to 2 hours. 25 cents. No entertalniuentN nest on approval or exchanged. THE SCHOOL AT MUD HOLLOW A Burlesque In Two Parts By ELIZABETH F. GUPTILL Price 35 Cents All Rights Reserved, Amateur Performance Permit tea 265 West 36th Street, New York 14 W. Washington Street, Chicago Copyright IQI4 h Tullar-Mtredith Co. International Copyright Securea TMP96-007C93 ©GI.A401342 M )\ 1915 7< ( Characters Part I Miss Arabella Pinkham — the Teacher. Evalina Margarita Gwendolyn Smythe } Dorcas Ann Ransom e f D •? t £ 7 , Josiah Joel Joseph Jones \ Pu ^ ls f rom J 4 to '<* years old Fritz Van Hummel ) Mehitable Mercy Matilda Jones 1 Maria Nancy Bascom f D ., , Terence O'Hara O'Connor O'Donnell \ Pu ^ ls f rom I0 to I2 y mTS Dandelion Blossom j Ellowina Roberta Evangeline Smythe \ Honora Bridget Mary O'Donnell I Katrinka Van Hummel > Pupils 7 to g years Calla Lily Blossom i WilUam Adolphus West ) Reginald Algernon DeMontmorency Smythe ) Polly Jane Jenkins Jones >■ Pupils of 5 or 6 years Lydia Jane Brown ) Mrs. West — Willie's Mother Hanna Ann Brown — Lyddy's big sister Mr. Jacob Benway — the Supervisor, who has money in the bank Part II Mrs. Smythe — from the City Mrs. Blossom — a (i Cullud Lady" Mrs. Van Hummel — of Dutch extraction Mrs. O'Donnell— from the Emerald Isle Miss Ketchem — an Old Maid Mr. Ruben Ransome — the "Committee Man" Mr. Hank Jenkins — Miss Hanna Ann Brown's Fiancee Also all the Characters in Part I Costumes and Properties For the first part, dress children in accordance with their characters, but in every day school clothes. The Smythes are dressed rather elaborately ; Blossoms gaudily; VanHummels in full Dutch breeches and skirts; country children plainly — boys in shirts and overalls, girls in calico or gingham aprons. In second part, they wear their "best clothes." Irish and Darkey children wear stiffly starched clothing; Calla Lily's many tiny braids are tied with bright ribbons of various colors. Choose dark eyed children for darkies, use- ing burnt cork. Dan may have a wig, if preferred; if Calla Lily has rather short, dark hair, it will look all right when braided and tied. Fritz has light hair, rather long, and Katrinka has two long, light braids. The Irish children have red or brown hair. In the second part, Evalina and Ellowina have long curls, made over curling iron. Ellowina's may be "Dutch cut" instead, with a very large bow. Choose boy with long curls or "Dutch cut" for Reginald. Dress visitors in accordance with parts taken. The Teacher should be stylishly dressed. A desk for the teacher, with a chair or two, settees for visitors and seats and desks for the children are all that is required. Train children carefully in speaking in dialect. They can be a year or two older than given ages. Play may be given entirely by grown-ups, those impersonating pupils dressed accordingly. This will be more laughable. The play may be given as a whole, occupying an evening; or parts may be presented on different evenings. Either part may be given alone. Part II may be prolonged by encores, or any specialties. Other recitations or songs may be used instead of those given. The School at Mud Hollow Part I (Scene : the schoolroom. Miss Pinkham seated at desk, soliloquizing.) Miss Pinkham. Well, of all the forsaken holes to drop into! Such a school- room! And such a name! Mud Hollow! Couldn't they have thought up anything prettier than that, I wonder? And that queer old fellow who gave me my certificate. Could a more perfect specimen of the genus "Ruben" exist? I came near asking him if that was his name. And how he did smirk! Gave me to understand that if I pleased him, the rest of the committee would be all right. With what a lordly air he told me what my princely salary would be — four dollars a week, and board around. Asked me my age, too, as if I were a child! Well, I told him. I am twenty-two, I'm sure, and it's nobody's business if I've been that age for fifteen years, I'm sure! And there's certainly no one here to marry, if he's a specimen. I shan't stay but one term, that's certain. I thought this part of the country might be a change, and it certainly is. (Looks at watch.) Nine o'clock! Here goes to call in the young Reubens and find out how much, or how little, they know. (Goes to door, rings bell, children enter, noisily.) Dan Where 'bouts does yo' want we-all to sit, Teacher? Miss Pinkham. Oh, anywhere. Take your old seats — the ones you occupied last term. Dan. De ones we all done did what to? Lilly. Oxahpied, yo' niggah. I neber done dat to my seat, Teacher, neber! Miss P. Take the same seats you had before. Terry. Sure, and we will do that same, Teacher. (They take seats, with much pushing and giggling.) Miss P. You will find some work on the blackboard to occupy your hands and attention, while I classify you and assign your lessons. Joe. T'other teachers never signed our lessons. We allers signed the writ ones our own selves, and the say ones you can't sign. Miss P. I mean classify you, and tell you where your lessons will be. Joe. Oh! (Maria begins to cry.) Miss P. What's the matter, little girl? Are you ill? Maria. Are I what? Miss P. Are you sick? Do you feel badly? Maria. No, I aint sick, but I do feel bad. I don't want to be classified. It'll hurt. Miss P. Why, no it won't. What an idea! Maria. 'Twill, too! What you want to do it for? None of our other teachers did. 'Sides, our folks won't like it at all! 1 want to go home. Miss P. What a silly little girl! Sit up and be good. Maria. I don't want to be good. I want to go home. I aint no butterfly. Miss P. Butterfly! Is the child crazy? (Shakes her slightly.) Now sit up and tell me what the trouble is. Why are you crying? Maria. I don't want to be killed and stuck on a cushion! Hitty. (Waving her hand.) I know, Teacher! I know what's the matter of . her. The School at Mud Hollow. Miss P. The matter with her, you mean. Well, what is it? Hilly. The matter of her with her is that you said you were going to classify un. Miss P. And why should that make her cry? Hillji. Her uncle's a c'lector. Miss P. I don't see that you have made it any clearer. Terry. The uncle of her c'lects butterflies, mem— kills 'em with a cyanide bottle, shticks a pin through thim fer his c'lection, shure! He calls it a classifyin' of 'em, and she thinks you're a-wantin' to do the same to her, mem. Miss P. The idea! Now, little girl, stop crying at once. I only want to find out what class you belong in. Maria. I don't want to b'long in any class. I want to go home. Dan. Nebah mind M'ria, Miss Teachah; she cries mos' all de time. She go "weep, weep, weep," like ole Frog's chillen out in de ma'sh. Joe. She was born c yin', and she'll die cryin' and turn into a founting, like that Niby girl her uncle tells about. Maria. I want to go home! Miss P. Maria, stop crying at once, or I shall give you something to cry about. Have you finished? Maria. Y-y-yessm. (Wipes eyes on apron, but continues to sniff.) Miss P. The highest class may come out here. The rest of you take your books and find something to do until I have time to examine you. (Fritz raises his hand.) Miss P. What is it? Fritz. Der last teacher vot zamined anybody in dis sgool got herselluf into a heap ov trouble aretty. Miss P. What do y~ .; mean by that? Are you trying to be impertinent? No, (to Terry, who is wildly waving his hand and snapping his fingers) not you. Put your hand dowi I want the other boy to answer. Were you trying to be impertinent? Fritz. Yah, I guess zo aretty.' I didn't know vot you means by dot big vord, but I voz a drying to hellup you geep out ov a scrape. Miss P. I don't understand you. No (to Terry again) I am talking to this boy. Fritz. Der leedle gray deacher vot vos here von dime, she did zamine Galla Lily Blossom's head vor gieepers, und Vrow Blossom she did chase dot leedle deacher out ov der down aretty, mit a razor. Miss P. Can't you speak English? Fritz. Yah, dot vos English aretty. Did you dink it vos Tutch? Miss P. It sounds very much like it. (Terry has waved his hand wildly most of the time, and Miss P. now speaks to him.) Now, boy, what is it? Terry. May it plaze yer sweet face, tacher, Dutchy can't hilp talking that way, at all, at all. He thinks it's Inglish, but it's jist a hodge-podge. What he's a-trying to say, but can't for the brogue of of him, is that Miss Gray, she got it into the pretty head of her, that Calla Lily Blossom had visitors in the kinky head of her, and she axamined it, jist to make sure, ye know, in defince of her own hair and the rats she wore in that same; and sure there wasn't annything in the wool of her at all, at all. 'Twas jist a notion, like, that she had of scratching the head of her because her mither made it itch like by pulling it tight, and braiding it into sich a hape of little tails to tie ribbins onto. So Miss Gray she looked at it, sharp, through her glasses, and there was all the little paths clane and impty, and no cattle a-running up The School at Mud Hollow. and down 'em at all, at all, and she sint Calla Lily to the sate of her with the bid to stop the scratching of her; and that was all there was to it. But the little colleen she told her mither whin she got home, and her mither she got after Miss Gray with a razor, and bedad, Miss Gray was that scared that she took the first train for home, and she niver came back to finish the terrum. Miss P. (Who has vainly tried to speak.) For pity's sake, boy, do you never stop to take breath? Terry. Sure, and I do that same, Tacher, whiniver it's nadeful. Miss P. Well, stop to do it now. Take several. (Terry does so, noticeably.) That will do. Sit down and keep still. I shall not examine your heads, the outside, at least, but I'll try to find out if there is anything inside. Joe. There aint, Teacher, not a thing. Miss P. Probably not. Highest class, pass to the front of the room. (They start to do so, straggling along.) No, go back. Dorcas. You told us to! Miss P. Take your seats again. Fritz. I didn't dake it the vurst dime. It vas right there all der dime aretty. It vas vastened to der vloor, und I gouldn't dake it. Miss P. Well, let it take you. (Fritz seais himself. The rest have already done so.) Miss P. Now, children, you heard this bell? (As she speaks, she gives the bell a smart tap.) Dan. Golly! Katrinka. Mine Gootness! Polly. Be that thing a bell, Teacher? Miss P. Of course it's a bell. Didn't your last teacher have a bell? Temperance. No'um, he didn't. He had a ferule, and he used to pound with it on the desk or on the side of the school-house, but he never had no bell. Nora. Miss Gray had a big bell, but she rung it this way. (Moves her arm up and down.) She niver give it a pat on the head of it with one finger, and it wouldn't have spoke for her, bedad, if she had done that same. Miss P. My bell rings so. (Touches it several times.) Now, the oldest class rise when I ring it once and pass out when I ring it again. Now rise. (She laps bell. (Clans straggles up.) No, no! All rise at cnce! Sit down. Now! (taps bell again, and they rise the same as before. Fritz sits still.) Joe. Get up, Dutchy. Fritz. Vor vat should I get up, Choe? Miss P. Are you in this class? Fritz. Yah! I be in dis glass aretty. Miss P. Then why do you not rise with the others? Fritz. Rise? I did not zee any von rise. Miss P. They all did but you. Fritz. Vy, der rest of der glass chust shtood up aretty. Mine mutter she make der pread to rise, but I don't got any yeast in me. Miss P. I mean stand up. Fritz. Yah, Fraulein. (He does so.) Miss P. Now sit down. Now all try to get up together. (They try several times. Finally she gels the class to the front.) Joe. All gitty up and sitty down, I call it. 8 The School at Mud Hollow. Miss P. No remarks, please. Joe. I wasn't a-remarkin' anything, but it was like the time my uncle Cy went to church. He was in Bosting. a-seein' the sights, and one Sunday he went to church. He put on a biled shirt and iled his hair up slick, and then he followed the craoud. 'Twas a tony church, with winders made of lee tie bits of broken glass bottles in all the colors of the rainbow. Made a picter, too, they did. Wal, Uncle Cy he watched the rest, and done just as they done, and they kep' a-hoppin up every two or three minutes, and then a sittin' and then a kneelin' and a sassin' of the minister back. And the minister wore a widder's wrapper with a long towel round his neck and hangin' down on both sides, and the singers marched up the aisle with black petticuts on, and short night gaowns over them, and be hanged if they weren't boys, at that. And when Uncle Cy got aout, he said, "I'll be gol derned if ever I set foot in a city church agin! It's all gitty up and sitty daown." Miss P. That will do. I'll talk, now. I see I shall have to teach this school to be quiet. I never saw one that talked so much. Hilly. School haint said nothin'. It's the scholars. Miss P. Silence! I will take your names first. (To Evalina.) Yours first, please. I see you don't talk without permission. Evalina. No indeed, Miss Pinkham. My Mamma (slrong emphasis on last syllable) is exterreemerly perticuler about the etiquette of our manners. We hold ourselves above the common herd of rabble around here. Joe. Some punkins, we are! Evalina. (Tossing head.) My apple-eration is Miss Evalina Margarita Gwendolyn Smythe. Miss P. Smith? Evalina. No, Madamoysle, Smythe. S-m-y-t h-e. It makes Mamma nearly swoon away to be called by that vulgar coggernomen, Smith. Miss P. Indeed! Where did you learn such very queer words? Not from the dictionary, I am sure. Evalina. I imbibed them from the conversation of my dear Mamma. She has the most flowery command of the intrickersissies of our grammatical language of any one you ever conversationed with. Joe. That she has. She's a walkin' Webster on a bridge. Evalina. She knows the dictionary now, and is always gleaning some new and oregonalidears from its wonderfully elerquent pages. Mr. Clancy, our last teacher, said it was wonderful what Mamma could do to the Angle-o Saxing language. Miss P. I should think so. Suppose you try to speak in simpler words, while at school. Evalina. Mamma would be exceedingerly unpleased with me, if I should do so. She wishes me to become as graceful a conversationer as she is. Miss P. How old are you? Evalina. Twelve. Miss P. Only twelve? , Terry. Sure, and she's been twilve iver since furst she came here, four years ago. Her Mamma (he imitates her way of saying the word) is a widdy, and 6he's trying her livil bist to quit being that same, so she kapes Evalina young to kape from growing older hersilf. Evalina. That isn't true, Miss Pinkham. Miss P. You certainly look all of sixteen. You are as tall as I. The School at Mud Hollow. Evalina. Well, see how short my skirts are. Miss P. That doesn't prove anything. Evalina. Mr. Clancy didn't believe it, either, but Mamma 6aid you would be a lady about it, she knew, for you'd told Reuben Ransome that you was twenty-two, and you appear twenty years more elder than that. Miss P. Of course your mother knows your age. I shall put it down twelve, of course. Evalina. Ma remarked this very morning that she was absolutely and cer- tainly possertive that you would, Thank you extremerly. Miss P. (To Dorcas.) What is your name? Dorcas. Dorcas Ann Ransome. The man what gin you yet stifficut is my Grandsir. Miss P. Indeed! And your age, Dorcas? Dorcas. 'Tisn't Dorcas. It's Dorcas Ann. I'm fifteen come Feb'r'y. Miss P. I shall call you Dorcas. It is your Christian name. Dorcas. 'Tisn't Dorcas. It's Dorcas Ann. Everybody always calls me the whole of it. Dan. Dey does. Miss Teachah, truly. It all b'longs togeddah, like Brer Turkle 'n his house. Miss P. Those in their seats keep still. As I said before, I shall call you Dorcas. Dorcas. 'Tisn't Dorcas. It's Dorcas Ann. My Grandsir named me for his first sweetheart, the one that wouldn't have him, and he won't like it if you don't say it all. Maybe you won't get Mud Hollow School next term. Miss P. (Aside.) Goodness knows I sha'n't want it. (Aloud.) Very well, Dorcas Ann, I'll try to remember it all. But why do you call this the Mud Hollow School? Dorcas. 'Cause 'tis! Miss P. But why is it? Dorcas. 'Cause it's in Mud Holler. Miss P. It is between two hills, but why not call it a vale or a valley instead of a hollow? Pleasant Vale, for instance, would be a much more euphonious name. Evalina. That's a pretty word — euphonious! I'll repeat that to Mamma! Miss P. Shall we call our school the Pleasant Vale School? Dorcas. 'Tis Mud Holler. Joe. Guess you'll think so, if you're ever here in mud time, Teacher. It's the muddiest hole in the hull township. Terry. Shure, an it is that same! I know who named it, Tacher! Miss P. Well, who did? Was he such a great man that it must always be called what he called it? Terry. Faith, he was a man whose name I don't know, mem, and I dis- remimber jist where he come from, but it wasn't sich a muddy counthry as this, annyway. And he was a poddling along in the mud, and a swearing that if iver he got back to the bogs of old Oirland, 'twas there he'd stay, and not go a-hunting for annything worrus, whin he saw a hat in the road be- front of him. Says he to himsilf, "I'll jist pick up tnat hat," says he, whin all at once he saw that it was a-moving along, slow like. "Bedad," says he, "Am I drunk, or is the hat?" Well, he walked on, his eyes on the queer- moving hat, till he caught up with the crater. "Faith," says he, "Frind Hat, it's mesilf that don't like yer actions," and he up with his fut, and f itched the hat a kick; and thin he jumped three feet into the air, for a voice 10 The School at Mud Hollow. from under him calls out, "Let my hat alone, will ye?" "Yer hat?" says he, "And who may ye be, ye spalpeen, and faith, where are ye?" And the voice answered, "I'm John Jones, and I'm a riding along on this load of hay, a- minding me own business, and will yez plaze to do the same, if it's all alike to you? "And the man gave a woild scrame, and lit out for the sayshore, to wait till a ship should come forninst him, bound for old Oirland. "Sure, and its mesilf," says he, "that wants nothing to do wid a counthry where the mud is dape enough to hide a load of hay, and a man betop of that same, all but the hat of him." And it's been Mud Holler iver since, saving yer prisince, mem. Dorcas. And it is Mud Holler. Miss P. Well, we'll see about rechristening it, later. Dorcas. 'Tis Mud Holler, so there now! Miss P. That will do. Dorcas, (aside.) 'Tis Mud Holler, anyhow, so there! Miss P. (To Joe.) What is your name? Joe. Jo-siah, Jo-el, Jo-seph Jones. Miss P. Nonsense! Joe. Yas'm, that's what I think, but that's my name, just the same. You see, I'd had four sisters, already, when I come along, but I wasn't a sister, I was a boy. Miss P. So I should suppose. Joe. 'N Granny Baker 'n Granther Jones, 'n Great Aunt Matildy all wanted to name me, 'n they all wanted to call me Joe, but Granny wanted Josiah, after Granther Baker, 'n Granther, he wanted Joel, cause that war his name, 'n Great- Aunt Matildy, she wanted Joseph, 'cause he war her one and only beau, thet got drownded, 'n there Ma war, all fussed up atween 'em. So finally, Dad, he settled it. "Name him all three, "said he," and we'll call him joe, 'n thet's short fur the hull kit 'n kaboodle of 'em," so they did. Miss P. But your first name is Josiah? Joe. Yas marm, Jo-siah, Jo el, Joseph Jones. Miss P. I shall call you Josiah. Joe. Pa, he won't hev it. "No partiality," he says. Jest call me Joe. Miss P. I will, Jo-siah. Joe. Naow I wouldn't dew thet, if I war you, 'cause Pa he'll raise a raow, same as he did when Miss Gray called me ihet, 'n Reuben Ransome, he'll stand by him. "We don't hire teachers." he told her, "to tell the young 'uns what their names be. Yew call em what their pairients dew, dew yew hear?" 'n she hed tew. Miss P. I always supposed that the teacher was the one to run the school, but it seems that I was mistaken. Joe. Right yew be, marm. Reuben Ransome runs this skewl, 'n he runs it to please the men thet elect him'. "I don't let my hired men boss me," says he, "Nor I shan't my hired women." Miss P. Indeed! Your age? Joe. Sixteen come Michaelmas Day. Miss P. And when may that be? Joe. Why, why, it's Jan'r'y, or Feb'r'y, I haint sartin which. Miss P. A boy fifteen years old, and don't know the date of your birthday? Joe. I do know it. It's Michaelmas Day. Dan. He means Ground Hog Day, Miss Teachah. The School at Mud Hollow. 11 Miss P. Ground Hog Day? look at de weddah. An' if de sun's a shinin' so he can see his own shaddah, he goes back an' cuhls up for anuddah long nap, 'caze he know wintah is only half gonded. Katrinka. Zum volks galls it voodchuck day. Miss P. But just when is it? What date? (All shake heads.) Joe, ask your mother tonight the date of your birthday. Joe. She'll say just what she did when Miss Gray made me ask her. She said, "You tell that silly little skewlmarm thet if she dunno when Mich- aelmas Day comes, she'd better study her almanac a little." Miss P. (To Fritz.) Your name? Fritz. Vot? Miss P. Give me your name. Fritz. I vant him mine selluf . Pesides, he vouldn't vit you, aretty, for vy you vos a fraulein, aint it? Miss P. Tell me your name. Fritz. Vritz. Miss P. Fritz what? Fritz. No, not Vritz vot, but Vritz Van Hummel. Dare vos no name vot gome betveen, like as der odder poys, and I vos vourdeen. Miss P. Now what does this class study? Dorcas and Joe. (One names two or three, then the other.) Readin', writin', 'rithmetic, gogafy, spellin, grammar, algebray, hist'ry, comperzishin, pro- nounciation, 'rithmetic — Dorcas. I said 'rithmetic. Joe. So did I you see. Dorcas. Well, you needn't. I'd said it a'ready. Miss P. Don't begin to argue again, Dorcas Ann. Which study do you like best, Joe? Joe. I don't like none of 'em. Miss P. But you should. You want an education, don't you? Joe. I ben't at all particular 'baout thet, marm, but I dew want thet hundred acre lot. You see, Granther Baker, he couldn't read nor write, 'n Granny Baker she said thet she was always 'shamed to hev to dew it all fur him, 'n she war plum sorry tew see thet I didn't hev no great leanin's thet-a-way, nuther, 'n so she said thet if I went to skewl till I war sixteen, she'd gimme her hundred acre lot when she war through with it, but she didn't dew it. She war all through with it four year ago, when she died o' pewmony, but I'll be hanged if she didn't leave a will thet I couldn't hev it till I war one an' twenty, 'n not then, 'nlessn I'd kep' on at skewl till I war sixteen. If I don't, Hitty gits ha'f, 'n Polly ha'f, 'n I'll be hanged if them gals is a-goin' to git my proputty. So here I stick till next Michaelmas Day, 'n then I'm done. Miss P. Which study do you like best, Dorcas — Ann? Dorcas. Readin', 'cause it's easiest. Fritz. I likes der viggers, and der von vare you chuggle vith the x, vy, z. Miss P. And you, Evalina? 12 The School at Mud Hollow. Evalina. Oh, grammar, pronounciation and compersishin. Yes, and geog- geriffy. I like about the countries and cities across the ocean, for I intend to go abroad on my wedding tower. Miss P. Indeed? Evelina. Mamma says if you'll corndescend to teach me citified ettikwetty, dancing, ellercushing and singing, also lessons on the piano, she'll pay you well. Joe. With a prommissory note, due when she marries old Jake Benway. Evalina. The idearr! Joe. Wal, you know she's settin' her cap at him, and has been ever since she found out thet he had a hundred thousand dollars left him by his — his — oh hang it! 'Twas his wife's cousin's husband's brother's first wife's ant, warn't it, Everleeny? Evalina. The idearr! It was his wife's second cousin once removed that left it to her, she died right after that, so it came to him. It is nothing to you if he likes my mamma. Dorcas. He doesn't. She runs after him. He said so. Evalina. She does not! Joe. She do. Miss P. That will do, children. Who is Jake Benway? Joe. He's the supervisor, marm. You'll see enough of him. He's allers a pokin' his nose into the skewlroom. Miss P. You must not speak so of your superiors, my boy. We shall be happy to see him, I'm sure. Joe. Wal, I haint. He axes questions. Miss P. Where are you in Geography? Joe. Yurrup. Thet is, we're a-goin' to be, if you don't put us back. Most all the teachers do. Miss P. What can you do in arithmetic? Dorcas. Most anything as far as fractions, if we have our books to see the rules. We can't do any of the miscellaneous ones, 'cept Dutchy. Miss P. Then you haven't taken fractions? Joe. Land sakes, yes! We've took 'em an' took 'em, but somehow they don't take to us. Miss P. And yet you study algebra? Joe. Yas'm, but we don't hurt it any. We haint never got very fur, 'cause we git all tangled up in the plus an' minus. Dorcas. I aint a-goin' to study it this term. My Ma says it's foolish to make believe do 'rithmetic with the alpherbet, an' I'm to drop it. Joe. Guess I will, too. Miss P. It would be well, I think, for you all to drop it till you are a little farther in arithmetic. {Evalina raises hand.) Well, Evalina? Evalina. I'm afraid my mamma will be filled with oberjections as to that. She cornsiderates that algibberray is a very genteel study, and entirely fit- ticated to be a portion of a well bred young lady 's education. She will desire me to continue with it, I am certainly possertive. Friz. I like der leedle letters vot makes berlieve dey vos riggers. It vos as goot as a buzz'.e aretty, to guess at der way to mix dem up. Miss P. Well, I will see, later, what you and Evalina can do with it. Joe and Dorcas — Ann may drop it if they wish. You may take your seats, now, and be prepared to shnw me what you know about fractions, after recess. (They take seats. > Next cl ss! (Terry, Dan and Hitty come out.) The School at Mud Hollow. 13 Terry. Sure, an' Maria's in our class. Miss P. Come Maria. Maria. I don't want to come. I want to go home. You're a c'lector! Miss P. Don't be foolish, Maria. I shall not hurt you. Come! Maria. I want to go home! (Begins to cry again.) Miss P. What a silly little girl! Don't be a baby, now. Come out here, before I have to come after you. Maria. I- — I — don't like to be called names! T-t-tisn't nice, if y-you are a s-sschool-ma'am ! Miss P. I didn't call you any names, but you must obey. You are disturb- ing the rest of the school. Maria. Y-y-you d-did too! You said I was a silly fool, and a bawl-baby! Miss P. I didn't say so, but you certainly appear so. Come! Maria. I-I-don't wanter! (Miss P. goes to her, and brings her down by force, Maria crying loudly.) Dan. Golly! She makes as much noise as ole Mis' Crow's pickaninnies did when Brer Fox got arter 'em. Miss P. (Shaking Maria.) Be still! If you don't keep quiet, I shall whip you. Maria. (Subsiding into sobs.) I-I-don't mind a wh-whipping, but I don't want pi-pins stuck into me ! Miss P. What is your name? Maria. M-M -Maria, (sniff, sniff) N-Nancy, (sniff,) B B-Bascom, oh dear! Miss P. And your age? Maria. A d-d-d-d ozen! Miss P. Well, see if you can stop crying a few minutes, do! Terry. Sure, and she'll stop byme-by, when she furgits herself, but she'll begin agin as soon as iver she remembers. She's worrus than a banshee, a- wailing all the living time. She'd be a trisure at a wake! > Miss P. (To Hitty.) What is your name, little girl? Hilly . Mehitable Mercy Matilda Jones, 'n I'm Joe's sister, 'n I'm 'leven'n three quarters. Miss P. (To Terry.) And yours? Terry. Terence O'Hara O'Connor O'Donnell, if yez plaze'm. Miss P. Say it again, please. I didn't get all the O's. (He does so.) Miss P. I never had a school v/here the children had such'abundance of names. Terry. Sure, and we do that same! Ye see, mem, me mither was O'Connor, and her mither was an O'Hara, and me feyther was Terence O'Donnell, as was his feyther before him, and his and his and his and his and — Miss P. Do stop, boy! Don't go on forever. Terry. Sure, an' I wasn't a-goin' to mem. I'd a-stopped whin I got to the ind of 'em, av.coorse, but there was tin Terence O'Donnell's av County Cork, and I'm the 'livinth. Wan av the good little people she told me great- great-grandmither in the 'livinth generation: "Name him Terence," says she and whin the thirteenth Terence is born, he'll have a gould spoon in the mouth av him" says she. So I'm the 'livinth, an' me grandson will be a rich man, bedad! Miss P. So you were born in Ireland? Terence. I was that, mem, and whin me rich grandson is born, I'm going back, bedad, and take me mither with me. She shan't do ither folkses washin's thin, says I. 14 The School at Mud Hollow. Miss P. I should think not, indeed. How old are you? Terence. Tin, an' goin' on 'livin. Miss P. You are young for this class. Terry. But I've got an ould hid on the shoulders av me, mem, and ye'll find I can do anny worruk that this class can do, bedad. Anny rale Irishman can beat a naygur twice his age or size, with wan hand tied behint the back av him, yis he can! Dan. Don't youall go for to call me no niggah, or I'll bust yo' haid for yo', yo' raid-haided Paddy! Terry. Yez will, will yez? Kim on an' thry it wance, av yez dare! (Boys begin to fight. Miss P. separates them.) Miss P. Boys! Boys! I am ashamed of you. Sit down and behave your- selves! Dan. He needn't go to callin' me niggah, den! Terry. Sure an' yersilf called me Paddy! Miss P. (Shaking Terry.) Be still! (To Dan.) Now, then, what is your name? Dan. Dandelion Blossom, and I don't know how old I is, caze my Mammy she done furgit. Ise 'bout so older dan my sistah. Measures about the height of a two-year old child.) Miss P. But what is your name? Dan. I dun tole yeh, it's Dandelion Blossom. Miss P. That isn't a name, it's a flower. Dan. Yas, Mis' Teachah, an' Ise my Mammy's flower. Yo' see, my Daddy is Tobe Blossom, an' dat's sho't fo' Tobaccah Blossom, so when my Mammy come to know him, she up an' mahhied him fo' his putty name, an' she says, ef Ise gwine teh be a Blossom, I'll be a ra'a posy, 'n she changed her name fum Chloe to Japonica, caze dat's de bestest blossom she knows, and so wealls are, named from posies, too, an' Ise Dandelion. Dey calls me Dan, mos'ly, heah at de school, but Mammy don like it. She say it sounds like a po' white chile's name. Miss P. What do you study? Dan. 'Riffumtic, Gog'fy, Spellin', Readin', 'Ritin', an' dat's all. Miss P. Where are you in arithmetic? Dan. In distruction, Miss Teachah. Terence. Sure an' it's substraction he manes, mem, where yez take a number from a littler one by borryin' from yez neighbor. "Do yez pay attention, me bye, an' git that lisson well," me mither says, "for if yez can learn to take somethin' from nuthin', sure an' yez may git rich widout waitin' for yez grandson. "We haint got it yit, though. Miss P. And in Geography? Hitty. We're just a-beginnin' that, Teacher! We're a-learnin' of the defun- ishings. Miss P. Learn the first lesson to recite after recess. That will do. (Class goes to seats, Maria crying into her apron.) Miss P. Next class! (Nora, Katrinka, Calla Lily and Elhwina come out.) Miss P. Four little girls! That's nice. I'm sure this is a nice class. Now I'll take your names. (All begin to give them at once.) Oh, no, not that way, one at a time. (To Ellowina.) What is your name? Ellowina. Ellowina Roberta Evangeline Smythe, and I'm eight years old. Miss P. You are not so tall for your age as your sister. ^ The School at Mud Hollow. 15 Ellowina. No ma'am, but I have a birthday every year. Miss P. Indeed? (To Nora.) And what is this little girl's name? Nora. Honora Bridget Mary O'Donnell. Miss P. And your age? Nora. Sivin. (Both answers have been very low.) Miss P. Speak up, child, I can't hear you. Cannot you speak louder? (Nora shakes head.) Terry. She's bashful, mem. She's me little sishter, an' her name's Honora Bridget Mary, but we calls her Nora for short. She's sivin, last St. Patrick's Day. Miss P. And who is this little girl? Katrinka. Katrinka Van Hummel, and I vos eight years 1 old aretty. Zum day I vos been nine. Fritz, he vos mine brutter, zum, und I vos his zister, aretty, too. Miss P. And this is Dan's sister, I'm sure. What blossom are you? Calla Lily. Calla Lily. Miss P. And do they call you Calla, or Lily? Calla Lily. Dey calls me Calla Lily. My Mammy she say de hull on it, ebry time, Teachah. Miss P. Exceedingly appropriate, I'm sure! And has she forgotten your age, too? Calla Lily. Yassum, but dat don' mattah. Ise old enough to go to school- Cabbage Rose an' Rhododendron an' Magnolia dey aint big 'nough yet- White Clematis he war big 'nough, but he 'et too much water million, an' he's daid, so he aint a-comin' this term Miss P. I should think not. Calla Lily. Mebbe his ghostess might come, Teachah, if we-all kept school night times. Ghostesses don't come out by day. Miss P. Nor by night, child, either. Surely you do not believe in ghosts? Dan. Don' yo' Teachah, truly? Miss P. Certainly not! Dan. Den yo' jes' bettah come see my Mammy, an' let her tell yo' 'bout what a lot she's seed, an' how she's talked to 'em. She's allers a-sayin' dat folkses what don' b'lieve in ghostesses an' ha'nts is ig'nunt, an' needs to be teached. Miss P. That will do. There is no such thing as a ghost. Take your seats. (They do so.) Calla Lily. My Mammy she knows. She's seed 'em. Miss P. (To Polly.) What is your name? Polly. Polly Parrot, tee-hee- hee! Miss P. Well, of all the extraordinary names! (Polly continues to gigglas.) Joe. 'Taint Polly Parrot, nuther. That's a nickname. Her name's Polly Jones. Hitty. I^'s Polly Jane Jenkins Jones, fer Marm, and she's six years old, and knows most of her letters. Nora. Yez didn't ask us where our lissons was. Miss P. I was too busy. It is nearly recess time. I will hear you read after recess, and question you then. Katrinka. You von't need to question us much, aretty. Ve chust read in der zegond reading book, und zpell our vords zum vay, und ve gount 'em von, doo, vree. 16 The School at Mud Hollow. Calla Lily. We-all learns to write our names, too, Teachah, only we-all can't do it yet. Miss. P. Now this little boy is the only one left. What is your name? Reginald. No matter. Miss P. That isn't pretty. Tell me your name. Reginald. Tom. (Evalina and Ellowina have been wildly waving their hands.) Miss P. Well, Evalina? Evalina. He is my youngest brother, ma'am. Reginald. I'm your oldest brother, too. Evalina. His name is Reginald Algernon De Montmorency Smythe. It's an exceedingly euphonious and allergant name, and sounds like he belonged to the old English aris to crassy, Mamma says, but he doesn't like it, and wants to be called Tom, like a common barn cat. He is nearly six, and Mamma says he's the tribberluation of her existence for he's just determined he will not be high-toned and proper. Ellowina. Mamma says he's just like Papa. He would be called John Smith, in spite of tears and entreaties, and he used to eat with his knife! Evalina. (Sharply.) Don't tell all you know, Ellowina. Teacher. Can you read, Reginald? Reginald. No, and don't wanter. (A knock is heard. Miss P. goes to door.) Miss P. Won't you come in? (Mrs. West and Willie enter.) Mrs West. I am bringing you my only remaining treasure, Miss-Miss? Miss P. Pinkham. Mrs. West. Ah yes, Miss Pinkham. He is a little spoiled, I fear, but you will have no trouble, I think, if you humor him a little. Since his dear Papa died, (wipes eyes dainily) he has been my only solace. (Willie has been making faces at the pupils. His mother now notices it.) Willie darling, that isn't pretty. Take off your cap, love. Willie. Rather keep it on. Mrs. West. Be Mamma's little gentleman, and take it off. Willie. You don't take yours off. Mrs. West. Mamrna'll give you a penny if you're good, dear. Willie. Off it comes, then. (Throws it on floor. His Mother picks it up.) Miss P. Has he ever been to school? Mrs. West. Not lately, I have been unable to spare him. He is eight now, and I think he should go, so I have brought him. Willie darling, don't wink at the little girls. You make them laugh. Willie. I want to make 'em laugh. Miss P. What is your name, Willie? Willie. That's my name. Miss P. Willie what? Willie. Not Willie What, Willie Darling. (Winks broadly and grins.) Mrs. West. Now be a good boy, Willie Darling. His name is William Adol- phus West, and he is eight years old. WiUie. Well, you always say it that way, Ma. Miss P. He has been to school before, of course? Mrs. West. Oh yes, in the city, before his sainted Pa died. Pardon my dis- play of emotion, but my loss is still quite recent. Joe. (Aside.) Not so recent but what she's got an eye on old Jake Benway. Evalina. (Aside.) He won't look at her. The School at Mud Hollow. 17 Fritz. (Aside) Nor your mutter, eider, aretty. I pet on der sgool deacher. Miss P. Silence in the seats! Dan. My seat neber said nuffin'. Mrs. West. My tears still flow easily, you see, but I think I can converse now. Willie. Yes, Pa's caused you a good many tears first and last, Ma. Mrs. West. Be a good boy, Willie darling. He was considered very smart in the city. The dear child's health isn't very good, so I never cross or punish him, and he must not study too hard, as it might injure his brain. The dear boy is very precocious. * Miss P. What do you know, Willie? Willie. Mighty little. Mrs. West. The dear child is so modest. Miss P. What did you like best when you went to school? Willie. Recess time, and dinner time. Miss P. In school hours, I mean? Willie. Making the rest of them laugh. Mrs. W. Now Willie dai'ling, don't make the teacher think you're a naughty boy. Be my own good boy, that's a dear. I fear I've spoiled him a little, since his dear papa died. Willie. She never spoiled Pa any. He had to stand round. Mrs. West. Be good, Willie darling. Would you like to examine him? Miss P. Not at present. Find a seat, Willie. (Willie seats himself by Kat- rinka, and pulls one of her braids.) Katrinka. (Clutching his hair.) You chust sit yourselluf down zumveres else, aind it. You don't peen a-going to zit mit me aretty, you Villie poy. Miss P. Take an empty seat, Willie. (Willie tugs at one.) Willie. I can't take it, cause it's nailed down. Joe. (Sitting him forcibly down.) Take it that way, smarty. Mrs. West. Goodby Willie darling. Be a good boy. Be easy with him, won't you? Miss P. Yes indeed. He has a few things to learn, but I've no doubt he will learn them. Goodbye. Mrs. West goes out. (Miss P. turns to Willie.) Miss P. Now Willie, in what class are you? Willie. Third Reader, I guess. Miss P. You guess? Answer me correctly, and do not try any more showing off. A loud knock is heard. Miss P. goes to door. Hannah Ann enters, drag- ging Lyddy Jane after her.) Hannah. I suppose you're the new teacher? Miss P. I am. Hannah. H'm! I don't see anything very pretty about you. Miss P. I am not aware that I said there was. Did you come here to in- sult me? Hannah. No, I come to bring this plague taked youngun to school, 'cause I couldn't drive her to come alone, but I want you to understand that Hank Jenkins is my beau, and you needn't to smile any more of your pink and white smiles at him, as you did when he druv yer from the deepo. I won't have it, do you hear? Miss P. You don't want me to frown at him, do you? Hanna. Yes I do. Comin' home and telling me how pretty you be! The idee! If you're so dead set on getting a feller, you set your cap fer Jake Benway, same as the other old maids and widdys does, and let Hank be. 18 The School at Mud Hollow. (Gives Lyddy a shake.) Now you be good, Lyddy Jane, or she'll lick yer. Miss P. What is your name, little girl? (Lyddy hangs head.) Hannah. (Shaking her.) Why don't you answer up? Her name's Lyddy Jane Brown, and she's five years old. She's my sister, or rauther, ha'f sister. If she don't mind, lick her. She don't know nuthin' but mebbe you can teach her a little, if you take your mind off 'n Hank long 'nuff . Jest you remember, he's spoke fur. (Pushes Lyddy Jane towards Miss P. and flounces out.) Joe. (As Miss P. leads her to seat.) Hank's dretful henpecked a'ready, but Hannah's got an ant who's got a waodlot. Miss P. Don't talk without permission. Joe. No-um. Here comes Jake Benway. Miss P. That man? Joe. Yep, that man. He aint harnsum, but he's got money. Terry. And he wants him a wife, Tacher. Smile your prittiest, now. Fritz. Blease gan ve haf recess, vile you get acquainted? Miss P. Yes, it is recess time now. (Strikes bell. Children run out. She takes a tiny mirror from her desk, and primps.) Miss P. (Aside.) A hundred thousand? It's worth trying for. (Advances toward door with a smirk.) One could improve him a little, or keep him in his place, perhaps. Here he comes. (Arranges hair.) CURTAIN. The School at Mud Hollow. 19 Part II (Scene: The Schoolroom, decorated with wild flowers. A settee is provided for the company and an extra chair in front for the supervisor. The children are dressed in their best, of course, and this may be made as funny as is desirable. The curtain rises on the room with all in place, buzzing loudly. All come to order at tap of bell.) Miss P. We are very glad to see you all at our closing exhibition, and hope you will be pleased with what you hear and see. Hank. I be. Hannah (with a dig of her elbow). You shet up, Hank Jenkins. You've no business to be pleased. They aint none of the young 'uns yourn, nor the teacher aint, nuther. Miss P. Children, we will sing for our visitors, first. We will sing "My Country, 'Tis of Thee." (She sounds the pitch by means of a tuning fork, and the children sing, first standing, as she taps the bell. They sing with great vim, and elaborate gestures.) Reuben Ransome. Very good. Ve-ry good. Mrs. O'Donnell. So patteryotic. Mrs. Smythe. Yes, indeed. There is no song like America to infuse patriot- ism into the tender hearts and minds of our offspring. Miss P. Shall we have the pieces next, Mr. Benway, or will you examine the classes? Mr. Benway. I will examine the classes, if you please. Mr. Ransome. Yas, Jake, so dew. We want tew know whether aour boys and gals air a larnin' of anything, or no. Also, we want tew know haow good a sewpervisor we've got. Fire away, Jake. Mr. Benway. Call your first class, please, Miss Pinkham. I know how well they do, having been a constant visitor, but we want the pairents to know likewise. Miss P. First class. (She calls all classes by bell taps, and they obey fairly well.) Mrs. Blossom (while class passes out). Reckon he has been a constan' vis'tah. Been in two free times a week, makin' eyes at her. Mrs. Smythe: It isn't her he is interested in, but the progress of my eldest daughter. Mrs. Blossom. Den why don't he kiss yo' Eberleeny 'stead ob kissin' de teachah? My Calla Lily she seed him t'other night. Mrs. Smythe. The very idearr! Mr. Benway. I will hear you read, first. Remember the careful drills given you by your excellent teacher, and read as nicely as you can. Page two hundred and thirteen. (Class turn pages noisily. Choose any well-known poem from a fifth reader of thirty years ago. If enough old readers are not available, copy the poem, and insert it in any book.) Mr. Benway. Miss Evalina may commence. Evalina (rising). Page, two hundred thirteen. Lesson forty-four. Subject (name of chosen poem). Author (give author's name). Stanza first. (She gives each item deliberately, then with a little "h'm" begins to read first stanza. She puts on a good many airs, rolls her "r's" and shows off generally.) 20 The School at Mud Hollow. Mr. Benway. Excellent! Excellent, Miss Evalina. You do your teacher great credit. Joe. (Joe rises and reads second stanza, haltingly. He mispronounces many words, gives all a back-country sound.) Mr. Benway. You must try harder, Joe, or the girls will get the best of you. Joe. H'm! I ain't no widdy man. You best look aout, yerself, Jake Ben- way. There's Mis' West, an' Mis' Smith, an' old maid Ketchum an' the teacher, all got ther eyes on you. You'd better look out. Fritz. I pets on der deacher. Miss Ketchum. Call that boy to order, Miss Pinkham. Miss P. Be quiet, boys. Dorcas Ann may read. (Dorcas Ann rises, and reads the third stanza, in a crisp, emphatic way.) Mr. Benway. Very good, very good, indeed. Now Fritz. (Fritz rises and reads the fourth stanza in Dutch dialect.) Mr. Benway. Very good, considering. Mrs. O'Donnell. Sure, an' I couldn't make out a worrud of it,, at all, at all, the hay thin! Mrs. Van Hummel (nodding at her). Ya, mine Vritz he read pooty vine aretty. He vill a great sgolar pe. (// the poem has more than four verses, let them read in turn to the end.) Mr. Benway. You read very well. I will not ask you to spell, as the great test will come at the spelling school next week, when we hope tew spell down the Skeeter Corner Skewl. Remember, if the prize is won by this deestrick, I'll double it. Arithmetic next. Miss Evalina, you may go to the board, and find the amount of one hundred thousand dollars for one year, at compound interest, compounded quarterly, at four per cent. Evalina. If you please, Mr. Benway, I would like to be excused from ad- vancing upon the blackboard when robed in my finest garments. Chalk is injurious to them. Besides, I know the answer. Mr. Benway. Well, give the answer, if you can do it in your head. Evalina. I didn't. I did it on paper, for Mamma. The answer is one hun- dred four thousand and sixty dollars, and forty cents — if you're a widower gentleman. Mr. Benway. What has that to do with it? Evalina. If you're married, the answer is one hundred thousand dollars. Mr. Benway. They do not ask at the bank, my girl, whether a man is mar- ried or single. Evalina. No sir, but if you were married, your wife would take out that thousand dollars interest every quarter, to spend. Mamma said so. Mr. Benway. Indeed, would she? Miss P. Mr. Benway's money would still be his own, Evalina, in any case. Mrs. Smythe. Hear the smooth-tongued school teacher! She wouldn't use any of it, of course. Oh, no! Mrs. West. He should wed some one with a competence of her own, I should think. Miss Ketchum. Yes, so should I think so, but that aint you. He won't wed no widders, you mark my words. Mrs. West. Nor old maids. Miss Ketchum. Who's an old maid? Hannah. The teacher. Stop staring at her as if you wanted to eat her, Hank Jenkins. The School at Mud Hollow. 21 ■ v:s him a dig in the ribs.) Hank. Wal, she looks pooty enough to eat. L r. Benway. Joe, if you had a hundred acre lot — J c. But I haint, not yit. Llr. Benway. And you gave one quarter to your sister Hitty, and one eighth to your sister Polly, how many acres would you have left? J>e. A hundred. Mr. Benway. Oh no, Joe, try again. Joe. Don't need ter try agin. I'd hev a hundred acres left, 'cause I shouldn't do no sech dividin'. What you s'pose I've kep a comin' to skewl fer, arter Granny Baker died, ef 'twarn't to keep them pesky gals fum gittin' my prop'ty? I shan't dew no sharin' with nobuddy, thet's flat. Miss P. He only wants to see if you can do the example, Joe. Joe. No marrn, I can't do on sech example. I know the answer I'd give the pesky gals every straight time. Mr. Ransome. Thet's right, Joe. Yew stick tew thet. Never yew let the wimmen folkses git the best o' yew. "Hold fast thet you can git" is my motter. Mr. Benway. Dorcas Ann, what is interest? Dorcas Ann (hesitatingly). Interest — interest is — is — interest is interesting. Mr. Benway. It certainly is; but I would like a definition. (Evalina waves .hand.) Well, can you give it, Evalina? Evalina. Interest is that which an unmarried female of marriageable age takes in an eligible man. Hank. Haw, haw, haw! Pretty good. She's got it down pat for a gal of uncertain age, haint she, Harnah? Hannah. Shet up, Hank Jenkins. She didn't get it right. Hank. Didn't she, though? Air. Ransome. Pass it along to the boy, Jake. Mr. Benway. Fritz, do you know what interest is? Fritz. Yah, I do know that aretty. It is vot you dake in our new sgool- deacher. You zed id vos, last veek, ven you holt her hand after sgool vos led out. Hank. Good for you, Dutchy. Here's a copper for you. (Tosses him one.) Mr. Benway. Joe, do you know what interest is? Joe. You kin jest bet your bottom dollar thet I dew. Interest is the money they gin yew at the bank if you keep your check book in your hip pocket, and watch the wimmin. It's money paid for the use of money, but the wimmin never pay it. Mr. Ransome. I'm surprised thet a grandchild of mine doesn't know what interest is. Dorcas Ann. Well, why should I, Grandsir, when I never see any money. Start a bank book for me, and I'll learn. Mr. Ransome. By hemlock, I will. 'Til all come tew you some day, for I'm no fool to git married twice. No excuse for being roped in the second time, when you've cut your wisdom teeth. Fust time, a man don't know no better. From now on, Dorcas Ann, you'll own a bank book, but don't think fur a minute thet you're a goin' tew handle any of thet money while I live. Your interest will stay and pile up, as it oughter. Mrs. Smythe. She'll make it fly, some day. 22 The School at Mud Hollow. Mr. Ransome. She might if she was a Smith, but she's a Ransome. They're all prudent; it's in the blood, ma'am. Mrs. Smythe. My name is Smythe, if you please, not Smith. Smith is a low, vulgar cognomen, unworthy to be included in the nomenclature of the elegant intricacies of the rosy rhetoric of our elaborate English lan- guage. Mr. Ransome. I don't understand all them fine words, marm, and I'm blessed if I believe you do, but your husband was Johnny Smith when he lived here, and I don't believe livin' in the city ever made him into a Smythe. Mrs. Smythe. The idearrr! Mr. Benway. Don't talk so much back thar. I'm a-hearin' this class. Eva- lina, what's a fraction? Evalina. No part. Mr. Benway. No part? What do you mean? What makes you think that's the answer? Evalina. Mamma said so. Mrs. Smythe. Why, Evalina, I never ventriloquated such an arithmetical solution in all the thirty years of my life. Hank. Thirty! H'm! Nigher fifty. Evalina. You did, Mamma. You said if Miss Pinkham was a fraction of a lady, she's stop flirting so disgracefully with Mr. Benway, and when I inquired the meaning of that, you said she was no part of a lady. Mrs. Blossom. Don' yer fling roun' too many pussonalities, chile. Let de teachah be. Fritz. I knows vot a vraction be, aretty. It vos a biece or pieces out of der whole of anyding vot aint whole aretty, aint it. You writes him in dwo stories, mit a vloor betwixt dem. Der lower sdory shows how many dere vos ov him, and der ubber sdory shows how many pieces you git out of him. Iv you vos a fraction, Mr. Zubervizor, maybe der vimmin vould divide, und not make oogly eyes at von annodder. Mr. Benway. That's enough of this class. Take your seats. Next class! (They come forward.) You may recite in Geography. Maria, what is Geography? Maria. A big book. Mr. Benway. To be sure; but what does it treat of? Maria. Nawthin'. Mr. Benway. Oh yes, it does. Think again. m Maria (beginning to snuffle). It don't either. Mine never did. Dan. Nor mine nebbah, needah. Deed it nebbah did, sah. Mr. Benway. Next boy. Terry. Shure, an' I'm thinkin' thet it's the wrong kind of Geographies we do be havin'. Maybe yours used to trate, Mr. Binway, but sorra a bit do ours do it, at all, at all. Niver so much as a lollipop, or a hunk of gum have thim measly Geographies iver trated us to, bedad, since furst we got thim, bad 'cess to thim!' Hitty. The book says it treats the earth and the destruction thereof. Miss P. Structure, you mean, Hitty. Hitty. Yes'm. That's what I said. Terry. Sure, an' what does it treat the earth to? Hitty. I dunno. Terry. Naythur do I, bedad. The School at Mud Hollow. 23 Mr. Benway. What is the earth? Terry. Land an' wather an' mud an' rocks an' trees an' bushes an' houses an' hills — Mr. Benway. There, there, boy! That's enough. That is what it consists of; but what is it? Terry. Sure an' it's all thim things an' a lot more. Mr. Benway. Dan, what is the earth? Dan. A monst'ous football, a-spinnin' itse'f along on nuffin'. It goes roun' an' roun' like a crazy crittah, dat-a-way. {He whirls his fist round swiftly, at the same time describing a large circle in the air.) Fust yo' see ole Massa Sun, and den yo' see ole Mis' Moon, and dat make day an' night; an' de big cuhcle, dat make — dat make — (scratches head). Now what do dat make? Dat make a yeah, caze it takes a yeah to do dat-all. Mr. Benway. Very good. Next, Maria, into what is it divided? Maria. Land and sea. Mr. Benway. How much of each? Maria. I dunno. My book never said. Mr. Benway. But what part is land? Maria. The — the outside. Mr. Benway. There, there, don't begin to cry again. What fraction, I mean? Maria. I dunno. Terry. Sure an' I know. It's a quarter land, and the rist water, and bedad, I b'lave I know what makes so much more wet. It's because Maria cries so many tears she overflows it. Mrs. O'Donnell. Sure an' the bye is right. The little spalpeen yells ivery blissid minute. Maria (sobbing). If my Ma hadn't stayed — home — with the baby, y-y-ou wouldn't a made -f-fun o' me. I'm a-goin' to -to -t-t-tell her, I am. Mr. Benway. What is a lake? Terry. Sometimes it's a big puddle, an' sometimes it's a hole in the tay- kittle. Mr. Benway. What is a mountain? Dan. When de Ian' hump itse'f — so! (holds his hands to form a point). A li'l mounting am a hill, an' de low Ian' atween 'em am a valley. Mr. Benway. What's a plateau? Dan. A plattah? Somefin' to hole de fried po'k an' aigs. Hitty. The book says it's a high plain, and a plain's a flat place, so a pla- teau must be a flat mounting. Mr. Benway. What's a river? Terry. Some water that lays in its bed, but won't kape still. Sure it's al- ways a runnin' away by itself, an' yit it's always there, jist the same as iver. It has a bank on aither side of itself, an' the place where it begins is its sauce, an' where it impties itself is its mouth, but it's a paceable thing, and niver answers back, because its sauce is so far from the mouth of it. It has branches, jist for all the worruld loike a tree, and it always runs down hill, bedad, but a founting runs up hill. Mr. Benway. A very good definition. Dan, what is a gulf or bay? Dan. A gulf am when yo' swaller hard, an' a bay am what de houn' dogs do when dey bark. 24 The School at Mud Hollow. Terry. A gulf or bay is a bite out of the saycoast, where the wather comes up. Mr. Benway. You have a very vivid way of describing things, my boy. You'll be an editor some day. Hitty. My book says it's an indenteration in the coast line. Mr. Benway. Just so. Maria, what are the poles? Maria. What you go a-fishin' with. Mr. Benway. No. Next. Dan. What de men folkses vote at. Mr. Benway. No, no. Next. Terry. Thim pisky furriners. Mr. Benway. No, no. Hitty. Hitty. Axe handles. Mr. Benway. Think a minute. Can none of you tell what the poles are? Hitty. North Pole and South Pole; but they are axe handles. My book . says so. Mr. Benway. Oh, I think not. Hitty. It does too. It says the earth turns on its axes, and the ends of the axes are called poles, and the end of an axe is the handle. Mr. Benway. Axis, you mean, my dear. Hitty. I said axes. Mr. Ransome. She sartinly did, Jake. She's in the right on't. Mr. Benway. That will do, class. Next class. (Next class comes out.) You may read on page twenty. (Find places noisily.) Katrinka, you may begin. Katrinka. Bage dwendy. Lesson vourdeen. Zubject, Gitty und Mouzie. Verze one. Vunce dere vos a leedle gitty, Vite as der znow. Een der parn he uzed do vrolic, Long dime ergo. Mr. Benway. Very good. Nora. Nora. (Hangs her head and reads low.) In the barrun a little mousie Ran to and fro, For she hearrd the little kitty Long time ago. Mr. Benway. Read it again, louder. Mrs. O'Donnell. Shpake up, colleen, and hould up the hid of yer. Mither wants to hear. (Nora repeats the stanza, louder, with a decided brogue.) Mrs. O'Donnell. Will done, me gurrul. Shure an' thot will plaze ye, Jake Bin way. Mr. Benway. Very good, that time. Ellowina, you may read the next verse. Ellowina. Two bl-ack eyes had little kitty, Bl-ack as a cr-row. And they spied the little mousie! L-long time ago. (She puts on airs as she reads. The first two lines she reads tragically, the third The School at Mud Hollow. 25 triumphantly, on a high key, with the "spied" strongly emphatic. The last line she drags out as slowly as possible.) Mrs. Smythe. Ellowina elocutes beautiferously. I shall have her educated for an actress — a star! Mr. Benway. Exceedingly well read, my dear. Calla Lily, you may read next. Calla Lily. De fo'th vuss? Mr. Benway. Certainly. Calla Lily. Fo' sof pawses had li'l kitty, Pawses sof as snow; An' dey cotched de li'l mousie, Long time 'go. Mr. Benway. Very good, my dear, but you should say caught, not "cotch- ed." Mrs. Blossom. Cotched is de right word. " Cot " don' mean nuffin. Mr. Benway. Now Willie, the fifth verse. Willie. Nine pearl teeth had little kitty, All in a row, And they bit the little mousie, Long time ago. (He reads it as fast as possible, without a stop.) Mr. Benway. Slower, boy, slower. Try again. (Willie reads it again. This time he makes a stop between every two syllables, jerking them out, loudly.) Mr. Benway. Not much better, my boy. You may read the last verse in concert. All. When the teeth bit little mousie, Mousie cried out "Oh!" But she ran away from kitty, Long time ago. (Each reads in her own particular dialect or manner. Of course they do not keep together.) Mr. Benway. That isn't reading in concert. You did not keep together. You'll have to try again. Mr. Ransome. Oh, come naow, Jake, thet's tew much! Bet they hain't ary five grownups in this ere taownship thet could read thet vuss, an' keep tergether. Taint in reason ter spect sech a thing. Thet will dew, class. Mr. Benway. Yes, that will do. (Class goes to seal.) I think it would hardly be edifying to listen to the ABC class, so we will proceed to the exherbi- tion. Have you a program, Miss Pinkham? Miss P. Certainly. (Hands him a sheet of paper.) Mr. Benway. First we will listen to a greeting by Master Reginald Alger- non De Montmorency Smythe. (He reads the full name of each child as impressively as possible.) (Reginald looks down and scowls, but makes no move towards Mr. Benway.) Mr. Benway. Reggie, didn't you hear your name called? Reginald. Was that my name? There was so much of it, I forgot the first before you got through. Mrs. Smythe. Go speak your piece, Reginald dear. Reginald (going slowly forward) . Wish my name was Tom. 26 The School at Mud Hollow. Mrs. Smythe. It is so intensely discouraging, when I bestowed upon my only son the most mellifluously flowing, euphomlous, high sounding appel- lation I could find, to have him so boorish as to detest it. Mr. Ransome. Ah, he's Johnny Smith's own boy. Say, Tom, I'll gin ye a copper arter school. (Reginald, who has stood in the floor, scowling, now makes a cross little bow, and begins.) Reginald. Dear friends, we're sorry you have come To stare at us today. We hope you'll hate it all so bad Next time you'll stay away. (Runs to seat.) Miss P. Why Reginald! That wasn't your piece, at all! Where did you get it? Reginald. Willie. Mrs. West. The idea! As if my Willie would make a verse like that, even if he could! Stand up, Willie darling, and tell your teacher you didn't. Wille. I didn't. That is, I didn't make it. I taught it to Reg, though. Mrs. Smythe. Reginald, go right back and speak your piece properly. Reginald. Said it the way I meant it, this time. (Goes out again; recites.) Dear friends, I think you're all a sight Rigged in your best today. I got a new collar. It scratches my neck So I can't think of nothin' to say. (Runs to seat.) Mrs. Smythe. Reginald, if you don't speak that piece correctly, I shall ad- minister summary chastisement. Reginald (as she starts toward him). I will Mamma, I will! (Runs out and speaks again.) Dear friends, Miss Pinkham's awful glad Jake Benway's here today. She's so busy making eyes at him. She won't know what we say. Mr. Benway. See here, boy, how many more ways can you say that? Reginald. Three more beside the right one. Mr. Benway. Wal, you needn't. Next, a song, "The Pickaninny's Lull- aby," by Miss Calla Lily Blossom. Calla Lily advances, with a black rag doll, to which she sings any suitable darky lullaby. There are plenty of these to be found. She sings it well, in dialect, of course, tending the baby as she sings. If desired, she may have a little rock- ing chair, which the teacher brings from off the stage. This number will be very cute, if given by a good little singer. If encored, she returns and recites:) Hesh! 1 Don' cry caze dey clap us back! Dey 2 aint mad, now dat's a fac'. Hesh! 3 Boogah 4 man'll git yo' ! Dat's 5 right now. Wipe 6 yo' eyes, an' make dem a bow. Go 8 'way, Boogah man! Shet yo' haid! Dis' 9 pickaninny's gwine straight to bed. Motions. (1, cuddle doll, and pat her. 2, Look earnestly into doll's face. 8, Shake doll. 4, Holds doll out, shakes finger at her. 5, Brings doll near. 6, Make doll wipe its eyes. 7, Holds doll toward audience, and makes her bow. 8, Cuddle The School at Mud Hollow. 27 doll close on left arm, wave "boogah man" away with right hand. 9, Takes doll over shoulder, goes to seat.) Mrs. Blossom. Didn't dat bressed chile do well? Dey clapped her back dey did. Mr. Benway. Very good, very good, indeed. Next, we will listen to a reci- tation, entitled, "Little White Lily," by Miss Maria Nancy Bascom. (Maria does not stir.) Come, Maria! Maria. I don't wanter. Miss P. Oh yes, you do. Come out and speak it, nicely. Maria (sniffing). I've furgot it. Mr. Benway. Miss Pinkham, make that child come out here and speak her piece. Miss P. Certainly. Now Maria, come, or I shall come after you. Maria. Don't wanter. (Miss P. leads her out by force.) Miss P. Now speak it. (No answer.) Little White Lily, Maria (snuffling as she speaks). Little white lily, sat — by a stone, Drooping and — waiting, till — till — till- Miss P. The sun, Maria. Till the sun shone. Little white lily — I furgit. Miss P. Sunshine, Maria. Sunshine has fed, oh dear! L-1-little wh-wh-white lily is — is — is- Miss P. Lifting. Maria. L-1-lifting her head! (Ends in a scream.) Mr. Benway. Go on. Maria. I-I-d-d-d-don't wanter! They're all a-a-1-l-looking at me! Stop it! (She buries her face in her apron and cries loudly.) Mr. Ransome. There, get to your seat, M'ria, for the land's sake. We haint a-goin' to eat ye. (Maria does so.) Hank. I naver saw sech a bawlbaby in all my life as that ere M'ria Bascom. Hannah. I wish Mis' Bascom was here. She's straighten her out! Give her somep'n to yell about, ef she war mine! Mrs. Blossom. No dangah ob dey callin' dat li'l gal back. Mr. Benway. Next, we will hear a recitation, called "Mother," by Master Fritz Van Hummel. Mrs. Smythe. Ah, I love to hear the young offspring properly appreciate the maternal parent, and give abundant tribute to her memorial! Mr. Ramsome. Haul in yer horns, and let the Dutch boy speak his piece. Fritz. I uzed to go to zee her, mine brecious leedle Bearl, Her mutter vos a vidder, mit chust von charming gurl. Her mutter alvays met me at der door, mit smiling look, And made me sday to zupper. She vos a dandy gook ! Vot choy to guide an automobubble, mit Bearl in der donneau! Of gourse, her mutter went, alzo, vor zhappyrone, you know. Vot pliss, upon der rifer to sofly, smootly vloat, Mit Bearl, mine own adored von, and mutter, in der poat! 28 The School at Mud Hollow. 'Tvos creat to dance dcr dango, mit Bearl, mine vairest pet, But mutter, she vos dance him, too, zo I asg her, too, you pet! 'Tvos vine to sgate mit Bearlie, and hold her leedle hand, But mutter, oh mine gootness! She sgate, too, to beat der band! Von night I vos gone gourting, mine mind made up, you know, To bop der guestion, bang! dot night, I lofe mine tarling so! And now? Veil, now I'm marriet, dough nixie I knows how, Vor it vos mutter marriet me! Bearl galls me "Fader" now! Hank. Pretty good, that. Look out for your mother, Everleeny, when beaux begin to come your way. Mrs. Smythe. I think it was extremely, artroci-ously vulgar! Mrs. Van Hummel (nodding at her). Yah, I dinks him pretty vine, mine- selluf, aretty. Hank (clapping loudly). Come back, Dutchy, and say another. Fritz. I didn't learn me anudder, gauze vy, I didn't been had der dime, ven I got him so I gould zay him mitout butting any aretty 's in vere day didn't ought to vos, Chee! It vos hard work! (7/ desired, he may come back, instead of saying this, and repeat any piece in Dutch dialect.) Mr. Benway. Next, we will listen to music by the orchestry. (The orchestra, consisting of Joe, Fritz, Dan, Terry, Evalina, Dorcas Ann, and Hitty, come forward. Joe has a jewsharp; Fritz, a drum; Dan, "the bones"; Evalina, a harmonica; Hitty, a triangle; Dorcas Ann, a comb; and Terry puts his hands in his pockets, and whistles. They play any old piece, such as "Old Zip Coon," or "Ole Dan Tucker." Of course, the "band instru- ments" may be distributed differently to suit the capabilities of the performers, but Dan must have "de bones.") Mr. Benway. Next, we will be pleased to hear a recitation, entitled, "Little Star," by Miss Lyddy Jane Brown. Hank. Guess we will. (Lyddy hesitates, and looks at Hank, then at Hannah.) Hannah. Go on, Lyddy Jane. Hank. Yes, go on and whoop her up, Lyddy, just like you did for me. Re- member what I promised ye. (Lyddy goes out, bows, giggles, then recites. She lisps, but speaks well otherwise.) Lyddy. Any girl that getth a kith, And ninth and tellth her mother, Ought to live to be an old maid, And never get another. Hannah. The idea! You've been a-learnin' her that, Hank Jenkins. Hank. Wal, I did hear her rehearse a few times. Miss P. Say your piece correctly, Lyddy. Hank. Oh, yes, that's the wrong one, Lyddy. Say the other. (Lyddy giggles again, then recites.) Don't kith your girl before her mother, 'Tithn't nith to do. Wait till you get her in the dark, Then kith and hug her, too. Miss P. That isn't right, Lyddy. Say, "Twinkle, twinkle, little star." The School at Mud Hollow. 29 Lyddy. Hank thaid it wath right. He thaid that wath the way he alwayth did. Mr.Benway. Pretty good, pretty good! I cal'late it is the way he does. Lyddy. He thaid it wath the way you did, when you went to thee the teatther. Mr. Ransome. Haw, haw, haw! One on you, Jake! Mrs. Smythe. The impertinent little minx! Mrs. West. But if Mr. Jenkins told her to, she's too young to know better. Miss Ketchum. So's your Willie Darling, I suppose, when he cuts up shines. She needs a good trouncing. Hannah. And she'll git it, if she don't speak that piece. Lyddy. I can't. The retht of you talk tho mutth. Hank. Fire ahead, Lyddy, and give them their little star, if they like that better than my poor poetry. Pretty good, I called it. Miss P. Yes, speak it pretty, now, and put in your gestures. Lyddy. Twinkel, 1 twinkel, little thtar, You're 2 an old maid, that' thwhat 3 you are! Peekin' 4 through the cloudth to thee Whoth in the hammock, 5 a-thpoonin' with me! 8 Motions. (1, hands high, move fingers rapidly. 2, point upward, with right forefinger. 3, shake fist in same direction. 4, make circle with thumb and fore- finger, and peep through. 5, hugs herself. 6, ends with a loud smack, and an "oh" in imitation of her sister.) Mr. Ransome. (As she lakes her seat.) Speak another, Lyddy Jane, do! Lyddy. I can't. That'th all I know. Hank didn't teatth me any more. Miss P. I should hope not. Hannah. You wait till you git home. Hank. You let her be, Harner. I gin her a quarter to do it. Hannah. Better kept your quarter, and let her behave herself. Mr. Benway. Now we will listen to a song, "Grandma's Advice," by Miss Evalina Margarita Gwendolyn Smythe. Mr. Ransome. By chowder! I never heerd sech starched-up names in all my born days as the ones thet's ben tagged onto Johnny Smith's young-uns. No wonder he died! Wore his lungs'n throat aout a-trying to call 'em by name. (Sees Evalina, who has made an elaborate bow, waiting.) Go on, Ewy. Whoop her up. Mrs. Smythe. Her name is Evalina. Mr. Ransome. Ever leaner! Land sakes, marm, she gets ever fatter, and she outgrows her petticuts amazin' fast. Miss Ketchum. Scandalous, sech short skirts be! Looks like a ballet dancer. Mr. Benway. Miss Smythe will sing if the others will keep quiet. (Evalina sings the old song, "My Grandma lives on yonder little green," or any chosen song. She should sing it with many airs. At the close she is encorod, and glides back, bows elaborately, clasps her hands to her breast, says, "Oh, my friends, I thank you for this appreciative compillament! " and responds with the last verse of the song.) Mrs. Smythe. No other child here has the elegant, graceful manners of my Evalina. Mr. Ransome. I sh'd hope not. 'Twould be a national c'lamity ef 'twas ketchin'. Mr. Benway. Now we will hear "Casabianca" by Master William Adolphus West. 30 The School at Mud Hollow. Willie. The girl stood on the steamboat deck, With fire darting round. She didn't move, but how she yelled ! It was a fearful sound. "All to the boats!" the captain cried, "We cannot stand the heat," The maiden wildly shook her head, And pointed at her feet. "Come, stir your stumps" a sailor said, "Or find a fiery grave." "I can't! I can't!" she wildly cried, "Oh save me, someone! Save!" Was it heroism kept her when She for the boat should spurt? Ah no, 'twas fashion held her tight — She wore a hobble skirt! (Hank and Mr. Ransome applaud loudly, Mrs. Blossom, Mrs. O'Donnell and Mrs. Hummel joining in.) Mrs. West. Go back, Willie darling, and speak it again. Willie. Don't sell my cabbages twice. Mr. Benway. That wasn't quite the way we used to speak it when I was a boy. Miss P. It isn't the way I taught it to him, either. I don't know what has got into the children today. Mr. Ransome. _ Let 'em be. It's the most interesting exherbishing this ere skewl ever gin yet. Say another, Willie. Willie. 'Tis springtime. Lo, the farmer In overalls and shirt, Is busy ploughing, harrowing, And digging in the dirt. Why does he work so willingly? His family to feed? To keep them all in shoes and hats And dresses? No, indeed! It is to feed the browntail moth, The gypsy moth, the crow, The cutworm and potato bug, The farmer labors so. Mr. Ransome. Right ye be, Bill, right ye be! That's the best yet! Mrs. West. The dear boy will be a great poet some day, I'm sure. Hannah. A jail bird, more likely I don't call it smart. I call it contrariness. Mr. Ransome. They's others, Harner, they's others. Mr. Benway. Next on this most interesting programme is a recitation en- titled " Mary's Lamb," to be given by Miss Katrinka Van Hummel. Katrinka. (Bobbing a curtesy.) Mary had von leedle lamb aretty Mit vleas as vite as der snow vos peen, Und eferyvere dot fraulein vent Dot leedle lamb he drotted along also. The School at Mud Hollow. 31 He vollowed her to sgool zurn day — • It vasn't allowed vor lambs to peen in sgool. Dem children day laugh zum more, und blay and choke, To zee a leedle vite zheep dere in der sgoolroom. Und zo der deacher she make him drot himselluf right oud; Put he didn't go home aretty, he vrisked him around, And vaggled his leedle vooly dail, and blatted Mit all his might, dill Mary she gome out to recess. Und den he run to Mary, und he poked His nose up in her hand, und licked it all nice und glean, Und zay, "I nix did gare vor dat old deacher, zhe Von't hurd me any more aretty, ven Mary vos here. "Vot makes der lamb so much lof Mary?" Der leedle children dey asg dot deacher, ven zhe gum out. " Vy, dot leedle lamb, he don't vos know any petter" Der deacher zaid; und der lamb he zay "Baa!" Hank. So that's the Dutch of " Mary had a little lamb," is it? Good change from the English, I say. Mr. Ransome. We will now listen to some more music by the orchestra. {Orchestra come out, and play any chosen tune. They should have a bit of difficulty getting started.) Mr. Benway. Pretty good! Pretty good! I'm very fond of music, myself. My favorite tune is "Yankee Doodle." Can you play that? Joe. You bet. Give it to him. (They play it.) Mr. Benway. Next, we have a recitation, "The Widow McCarthy's Pig," by Master Terence O'Hara O'Conner O'Donnoll. Mrs. Blossom. Fo' de land's sake, what make dat man keep a-sayin' "O" when he call dat boy to speak him piece? Mrs. O'Donnell. Sure, and he jist called out the roight name of the bye. Thim be good ould Oirish names, ivery wan av thim. Shpake up, Terry, me lad. We'll listen. Terry. An' is it a shtory ye're wantin'? Kape shtill, thin, stop dancin' a jig, An' Oi'll till yez a tale av Oild Oirland An' the Widdy McCarthy's pig. She lived in a bit av a cabin Jist forninst the aidge av the moor, Wid a wee bit o' land all around it Where the praties grew up to the dure. Arrah, no, choild, she warn't a poor widdy, 'Twas her own, if it warn't very big; And in a noice pin in the corner She kept her a bit av a pig. Ah, he war a lane little rashcal, Wid the sassiest bit av a snout, Always a-rootin' and huntin' To find him a way to git out. Sure he'd root an' he'd root till he found it — And he found it most ivery day — An' he'd shquaze the lane lingth av him under, An' gaily he'd gallop away. 32 The School at Mud Hollow. Wid his nose he would root up the praties — Oh, couldn't he jist turn 'em out! Jist a toss av the head av him sideways, An' a shake av his wicked pink shnout. Now the widdy'd a neighbor forninst her, An' Dinnis O'Dowd was his Dame; Si"h a jolly gossoon, though not handsome, laat nobody'd found out that same. He had curly rid hair, loike a carrot, An' the sassiest pug av a nose, And frickles as thick as a shpatter Of rain on the chake av a rose. But he'd always the jolliest whistle, And a shmoile that war roguish an' big, An' he'd shmoile in the rain or the sunshine. He had even a shmoile for the pig! He had both his blue eyes on the widdy, But she wouldn't be lookin' at him, For she'd vowed that she'd not agin marry, But be true to the mim'ry av Jim. But whiniver she'd say "No" to Dinnis, He'd shmoile his nice shmoile, broad an' big, An' say, "Thin I'll ask yez termorror; An' now I'll make love to the pig." An' thin, wid his hands in his pockets, To the pin he would saunter away, And he'd wink at the pig; and bedad, now, That pig would dig out ivery day. Thin Dinnis, the handiest neighbor, Had to hilp her to catch him, av coorse, So they grew, ivery day, better neighbors; But that pig — ivery day he got worse; Till at last she said " Yis" to young Dinnis, An' made him the gladdest av min; For she naded a husband, she tould him, For to kape thot woild baste in his pin; An' 'twas tired to dith av the runnin' To git him to hilp her, she were, An' she hoped thot her Jim would forgive her, But the pig were too many for her. So they had a real Oirish weddin' Wid the neighbors all there; and the praste Made the pair av thim one, and he blissed thim. An' the pig? — Why, he furnished the faste. Mr. Ransome. Well said, well said; Mrs. Smith, better buy ye a pig. I've got some lively little rooters I'll sell cheap. Mrs. Smythe. A pig! The idearrr! Mr. Ransome. Wal, mebbe Jake'd come over and fix the pen, ye see. Sell ye the liveliest one o' the lot for five dollars. Mr. Benway. Next we have a recitation, "June Flowers," by Miss Polly Jane Jenkins Jones. (Polly goes out to desk.) The School at Mud Hollow. 33 Polly. Where's my flowers, Teacher? Miss P. (Taking them from a jar on the desk.) Here they are, Polly dear. Now speak up nicely. Polly. Yes'm. Buttercups 1 and daisies, and pretty purple clover! In June the fields 2 and meadows are fairly running over. I gathered all the nicest ones for Mr. Benway 3 dear, Our 4 beloved supervisor, who you see a-sitting here. The buttercups 5 are purest gold — that's like our love for you. The daisy, 6 with its silver fringe, is golden-hearted, too. The pretty 7 purple clover is as sweet as sweet can be, It carries honey in its heart — a sweetheart true, you see. Pretty 8 flowers of Junetime. Don't 9 they look quite jolly? I hope that you'll 10 accept the gift from loving little Polly. 11 Motions. (1, hold flowers out. 2, sweep hands outward. 3, turn toward Mr. Benway. 4> point at him, retain position through line. 5, hold out one or two buttercups. 6, hold out two or three daisies. 7, hold out two or three clover blossoms. 8, hold flowers against face. 9, hold them out and make them dance. 10, hold them out toward Mr. Benway. 11, goes up to Mr. Benway and holds out flowers.) Polly. It's from loving little teacher, really, but that didn't rhyme. Teacher picked em, and fixed 'em, and teached me the piece, what she writed herself. Mr. Benway. (Taking them.) Indeed, my dear, it was very thoughtful of your teacher, and I accept them gladly. I think I must kiss the rosy little lips that said such a nice piece for me. Polly. (Putting hand over mouth.) No, I don't like mens to kiss me. Kiss teacher. It's her piece and her posies. (Runs to seat.) Miss Ketchum. Well, of all the cheek I ever did hear of, to teach the child a piece like that! Making love to the supervisor before us all! Very bold and unladylike, don't you think so, Hannah? Hannah. I don't keer who she makes love to, if she lets Hank be. She can't flirt with my beau. Mrs. Smythe. It is incomprehensitive to me how any spinster could so de- mean and lower her modest humilertie by writing such a piece of doggerel as that. I wouldn't. Mr. Ransome. Good reason why. Takes brains. But I'd a gin him suthin' besides weeds, ef I'd a ben her. Mrs. O'Donnell. Sure, an' 'twas a pretty little pace, I do be thinkin', an' the posies was pretty, too, an' so was the little colleen who gave 'em. If only I'd a-known, I'd have give her a bit av shamrock to put wid 'em, for good luck. Mr. Benway. Next on the program is a song by Master Dandelion Blossom, entitled, (give title of song chosen. Any good darky song, either a coon song of the day, or an old one, like "Old Uncle Ned.") (Dan comes out, bows, and sings. He should be able to do it well.) Mrs. Blossom. Law! Dat boy's got de music right in him. (They may encore Dan, in which case he will give a darky dance. If he and Calla Lilly can do the cake walk, it will be good to have them do so. In that case, have Mr. Ran- some call for it, at the end of Dan's dance.) 34 The School at Mud Hollow. Mrs. Blossom. Dem chilluns o' mine got de jingle in dere heels an' toes, as well as in dere haids. Hank. Right smart little pickaninnies they be, Auntie, for sartin. Mr. Benivay. Next is a drill by six little girls, conducted by Miss Evalina Margarita Gwendolyn Smythe. (Ellowina, Calla Lily, Nora, Katrinka, Polly and Lyddy Jane come out. Evalina goes to a corner, and brings out six flags. She gives one to each girl. She stands at one side, and gives the commands. The drill will be more amusing if they do not keep together, but prettier if they do.) Flag Drill. "Persition." "Salute." "Wave." "Overhead." "Wave." "Down." "Wave." "Up." "March." "Line." "Cross." "Raise." "Persition." "Salute." "Arch." Flag in right hand, held toward left. Step forward with right foot, raise flag high to right. Wave high to left, back to right, four tiines. Hold flags high overhead. Wave in a circle overhead four limes. Bring right hand out straight from shoulder. Wave flag in that position four limes. Raise flag. March in circle around Evalina, who steps forward. Form line again. Cross flags in pairs. Raise them in this position. As at first. As before. Two tallest hold flags high, to meet. Others march under, around, under again, and next tiro put up flags in front of first two. Two smallest ones march through, around, under, and put up flags in front. "Circle." March in circle, flags held high, in point toward center. "Line." Form line as before. ' ' Recite . " All recite: I pledge my heart, 1 I pledge my hand, 2 To this, 3 my own, my native 4 land. Motions. 1, place flag over heart. 2, hold out left hand and touch with flag. S, hold flag out. 4. wave flag about shoulder high.) "Sing." All sing: "Three cheers for the red, white and blue, Three cheers for the red, white and blue! The army and navy forever! Three cheers for the red, white and blue! (While singing first line, wave flag, breast high; during second line, wave it high; during third line, wave it in circle over head; during fourth line, hold it high in right hand, not waving, and gaze upward at it.) "Deliver." Evalina again steps forward, the children march around her in circle, waving flags, then around again, each passing her flag to Evalina, and going on to her seat. Evalina replaces flags, and returns to seat. (In reciting, and singing, have Nora, Katrinka and Calla Lily each remember their particular dialect. Lyddy Jane must lisp. Mrs. Van Hummel. Und dot vos der brettiest ting I efer 'zaw. Mrs. Smythe. Drills are all the rage in the city. My Evalina trained them herself. She has remarkable and unusual talent for one so young in years. The School at Mud Hollow. 35 Mrs. West. Yes, it seemed quite like New York. Mr. Benway. Pretty good, pretty good, I call it. Next is a recitation by Miss Mehitable Mercy Matilda Jones, entitled: (give title of piece chosen. Hitty should recite well — some piece in country dialect preferred.) Mr. Benway. Pretty good, pretty good. Shows the excellent taste and careful drilling of your teacher. Next is an oration by Master Josiah Joel Joseph Jones — entitled "Shall Women Vote?" This gives the masculine view of the question, while the comporsition to follow will give the feminine eide. Now, Joe. Joe. (He should "orate" with fervor, and many awkward gestures.) Ladies and gentlemans, friends, Romans and kentrymen, and you city ladies, too, listen unto me, and lend me your ears for a short space of time. I come to present unto you the one and only sensible side of the question: Shall the wimmen folkses vote? Of course, the answer is "No." Right you are, my fellowmen. Wimmen must not vote. I repeat it, they must not. Why, if wimmen git to votin', they will want to boss the kentry, jest as they now boss, each her own man, making him clean his feet before he walks over her newly washed kitchen floor. She will want to keep the kentry clean, and to keep politics clean, and what a nuisance that will be! She will want to do away with liquor — do away with it! Give her the vote, and you won't be able to draw a pitcher of cider and git comfortably full at your own fireside. She will haste off to the polls at election time, instead of staying to home and tending the barn and gitting up a hot supper aginst the time you git home from the arduously hard task of governing this ere nation. Why, just think of taking your wife to town meeting! She'd kick at smoking and kick at spitting your tobacker juice on the floor, and she'd make you set still and listen to the speakers when you wanted to be swapping jack knives or trading cows, and she'd raise the roof if she saw you pocket a little present from the man you voted for. She'd want to throw away a heap of good town money improving the schools and improving the roads, and then she'd want to improve the men folks. She's run for office, and we all know that there ain't near enough offices now for all the men what want them, and we don't want any wimmen folks a-crowding of U3 out; 'n the first thing we knowed she'd pass a law that she should share equally in her husband's money! I know what course we menfolks oughter choose, and as for me, give me liberty to go to town meeting with- out being tagged and nagged by a woman, or give me — no, I mean give her, death! Make it a punishable crime for her to ask for the vote. I know not if you all agree with me, but you do if your brains are in good working order. We men must unite. Woman is down in the dust at our feet, and we must keep her there, or no more will we be the lords of creation, but a meek, hen- pecked lot, washing the dishes and tending the baby while our wives gather all the graft. Sink or swim, live or die, sick or well, I give my right hand and heart to this vote. Wimmen must not vote! They shall not. Never, never, never! And to that every man in the kentry should answer "amen! " (The men clap and stamp noisily.) Hank. Good fer you, Joe! You'll be a stump speaker, yet. Mr. Ransome. That was an oration to be proud of, Joe. Mr. Benway. Pretty good, pretty good. We will now listen to the other side of the question, presented by Miss Dorcas Ann Ransome, in a home- made comporsition, written by herself and entitled, "Wimmen's Rights." Miss Dorcas! (Dorcas comes out, composition in hand, bows in an offhand way and begins.) 36 The School at Mud Hollow. Fair ladies and would-be citizens: This callow youth before us says we should not be granted the vote, because we would make the country better! That isn't the way he said it, but it's what he means, or rather what his words mean, which isn't quite the same. Now when a woman sets her heart on a thing, she gets it. We have set our heart on the vote, and we're a-goin' to vote, and when we do vote, we'll have our rights. We'll have the right to be President, and we'll have a right to jine the masonses, if we want, to, and we shall want to, just to find out their old secrets! We'll have a right to have something more than a calico dress to cover our backs, and a gingham sunbonnet, made out of pieces from the scrapbag, to cover our heads, those heads wherein repose the best brains of the nation! Yes, we will be able to buy a pair of shoestrings without first cooking up a big dinner to make the menfolks good natured so we can ask them for a penny without hearing "Where's the penny I gin ye last week gone ter?" We'll have something to read besides the Farmer's Almanac, and something to write a letter on besides a bit of brown wrapping paper. We'll have for sech things the money now flung recklessly away for terbaccer and rum. Yes, and cider, Joe Jones! We'll fill the offices and the legislature with the bright lights of the female sect, and let the men try a turn at tending young ones and cooking dinner. You may struggle and beat your wings all you please, but this is a fact. The women air a-going to vote! (Women clap their hands noisily.) Mr. Bascom. Thet's a powerful smart compersishing, Dorcas Ann, but don't you believe yerself. You'll never get it. Dorcas Ann. You wait and see, Grandsir. We be a goin' to vote. Miss Ketchum. Yes, we be, Reuben, sure as preachin'. Mrs. Smythe. And then we shall take unto ourselves all man's especial privileges, including that of proposing matterrimony where our hearts' arrows points. Mr. Ransome. Heaven help the poor men then. Go on quick, Jake, before three or four of 'em propose to you. Mr. Benway. We will now listen to a recitation by Miss Honora Bridget Mary O'Donnell, entitled "Three Little Bugs in a Basket." (Nora hangs her head, but doesn't leave her seat.) Terry. (In a stage whisper.) Go long wid ye, Nora. (Nora shakes head.) Mrs. O'Donnell. Go out and shpake yer piece, Nora darlint. Go long wid yer, now. (Nora goes out, hangs head, fidgets with her apron.) Miss P. Begin, Nora. Nora. Three little bugs in a basket and hardly room for two, And wan was yeller and wan was black and wan loike me or you. And all were selfish in their hearts the same as me or you. (She says it very fast and low.) Miss P. Louder. Nora. (Very loudly and fast.) Shure, the biggest wan ov thim, he kilt the others intirely and gobbled thim up, bad 'cess to him! Miss P. No, no, Nora. Begin again, and say it loud and slow. (Nora hangs head.) Mrs. O'Donnell. Sure, and the colleen's bashful. Sing fer 'em, Nora mavourn- een! Ye're never bashful whin ye sing. Sing "Rory O'More." Mr. Benway. Yes, Sing, little girl, if you'd rather. (Nora sings "Rory O'More" or some other Irish song, in dialect. She should sing well, with no signs of bashfulness.) The School at Mud Hollow. 37 Mr. Benway. Pretty good, pretty good. Last on the programme is a little speech by Miss Ellowina Roberta Evangeline Smythe, written for the occasion by her mother. Mr. Ransome. Gosh all hemlock, must we listen to words and words thet don't mean nothin'? (Ellowina advances, with a package in her hand, and makes an elaborate bow, first to Mr. Benway, then to thejteacher, last, to the audience.) Ellowina. Mr. Supervisor— beloved teacher — respected parients and friends — we are gathered together today on the auspicuous occasion of the latter end of this semester of the school year, to show you how much we have advanced in our scholastic studies and gymnastics, and exhibit our amazing skilland docility in rehearsing for you our orations, recitations, exhortations, compersishins, exhibishings, and musical operations. We are glad to spread before you the result of this term's hard work and application, and show you how extremely well our teacher has trained the young idea to shoot. We hope you are pleased with what we have done to entertain and instruct you, and that you realize how much our new teacher has done to improve the manners, morals and etiketty of this district. To you, our respected supervisor, we tender our heartfelt thanks for the interest in us that has brought you, a frequented visitor, to these halls and of intellectual learn- ing. We hope you are pleased with us, and with our parients, who have seen that we attend punctually and regularly. To you, our beloved teacher: We thank you for your kind, thoughtful, tender, patient training. We are despondently sad to hear that this term, your first, is also to be your last, and we ask you to accept this little gift in token of our appreciation, as you go from among us to a new district, more cityfied, it may be. In the name of all your pupils, I now present you this brush and comb, and look — no, mirror. (Steps forward and presents it with elaborate bow. Miss P. I thank you all, and assure you I am much pleased with your gift. Our Supervisor will now say a few words, and then we will end bv sineine by the school. 6 6 Mr. Benway. I am pleased to see what an interest you take in this school, and in the faithful teacher. I never saw a better one, and would be as sorry as you be, that she has resigned her task, were it not for the fact that she resigns to become my bride. We hereby invite you all to the wedding next Wednesday evening at eight. Miss Ketchum. Well, of all the sly pusses! I shan't go! Mrs. Smythe. I shall sue for injuries 1o the affections. I thought he eared for me. He led me to believe it, and this sly minx has taken him away. Ellowina, you take back that toilet set! Terry. She'll lave it me! It's for the tacher, bliss her heart! Mrs. O'Donnell. And it's glad I am that he had sinse enough to choose him a young gurrul instid of a highflyin' widdy wid three childher, and a mouth full av big wurruds. Mrs. Van Hummel. Und she didn't gaught him aretty yet. Maybe she vos zorry dot her leedle gurl gif der present, but ve all hellup to buy it, und she vos keep it, aretty zum. Mrs. Blossom. Dat she shell. Bress her heart, she bin jes' as good to my pickaninies as ef dey war white. Mrs.S?nythe. Poor taste, I call that. And to think that I've sent my children to that designing old maid. She's forty, if she's a day. 38 The School at Mud Hollow. Hannah. Some others are older than they pretend to be. Better let Ever- leeny's skirts down a peg. For my part, I'm glad to hear it. Hank. You needn't a worried, Harnar. She wouldn't look at me. Mrs. O'Donnell. Sure, an' we're all a-fergiting our manners. We must congratulate thim. Mr. Ransome. Good luck to ye, Jake. She's a beaut — but keep yer hands on yer wallet. She's a woman. Mrs. S my the. She's an old cat! I hope the bank breaks. Come, children, we're going home. (She sweeps down and collects her children, and passes out. The others crowd down to congratulate the pair, who stand together to receive them.) Terry. Three rousin' big cheers for the pritty tacher, bliss her heart! {Children cheer, as curtain falls.) CURTAIN. Entertainments tor Closing Day SCHOOL SONGS FOR CLOSING DAY. By Harriette Wilbur, Contains a number of most excellent original sengs for the last day celebrations. Some havt original music, while others are set to familiar tunes. A very practical colIectioD of songs suited to all grades. Bright and pleasing. 15 cents. CLOSING EXERCISES FOR PRIMARY GRADES. By Harriette Wilbur A rich collection of recitations, dialogs, and other attractive features, bright, spicj and thoroughly up-to-date. A book that is decidedly refreshing because every num- ber is good. Contains greetings, welcomes and valedictories of a childish nature. In preparing this volume our special aim has been to provide all material needed by the teacher and pupil at this time. It is choice and complete. 25 cents. CLOSING EXERCISES FOR THE GRADES. Compiled by Harriette Wil- bur. A budget of wide-awake recitations, covering all phases of last day and vaca- tion events and ideals; an original salutatory and valedictory; two clever little plays, sparkling with fun, etc. A much needed book that supplies the demand. It is a gem. 25 cents. TEN COMMENCEMENT SONGS. By Harriette Wilbur and otbers. A splendid collection of choice, new songs specially written for Graduation day. This collection embraces original class songs ; commencement, graduation, valedictory and farewell songs. Some are set to original music, some to favorite college songs, and others to operatic selections. Words and music complete. 25 cents. CLOSING RECITATIONS FOR THE HIGH SCHOOL. Compiled by Har- riette Wilbur. An excellent collection of appropriate material for the high school. It will be welcomed by pupils just entering the high school, as well as those pre- paring to graduate. Each selection is of rare value. Sensible, choice and inspir- ing. 25 cents. NEW CELEBRATIONS FOR LAST DAY OF SCHOOL, Flag Day and Bird Day. By Ida M. Hedrick. Choice material for all grades. Practical and appro- priate. 25 cents. WHEN WE GRADUATE. An abundance of indispensable material for the commencement season. It embraces model salutatories and valedictories com- plete ; hints regarding the graduation oration, its preparation and delivery ; com- mencement hints ; class mottoes ; a large number of outlined graduation essays and orations on a wide diversity of subjects ; historical, literary, ethical, industrial, biographical, etc. The imperative demand for such material has prompted the publication of this book and we heartily recommend it. It amply covers every need for this occasion. Herein you find "graduation made easy." Beneficial to teachers or pupils of Grammar Grades, High Schools and Colleges. It is worth while. 50c. (See other lists for additional material appropriate for these occasions.) Entertainments for Thanksgiving THE WAIF'S THANKSGIVING. By Elizabeth F. Guptill. An intensely pathetic little play. Of absorbing interest from start to finish. The appreciation of a lady of affluence shown some destitute newsboys for their sterling integrity leads to the recovery of her little son, who had been kidnapped and not drowned, as she supposed. For intermediate or mixed grades. 5 males and 4 females ; more if desired. Three-quarters of an hour. 25 cents. THANKSGIVING SONGSTER, THE. By Effie Louise Koogle. Songs of Thanksgiving time for old and young. Solos, duets and choruses abundant ; serious, sensible, pathetic and humorous. All phases of the season woven into mirthful and enchanting song. The only collection of Thanksgiving songs of this character. 25c. FIN DE SIECLE THANKSGIVING EXERCISES. Contains material for several entertainments. Separate program for each grade. Original songs, recita- tions, dialogs and many other features. Bright, enthusiastic, sensible. 15 cents. NEWSBOYS' THANKSGIVING, THE. A jolly new play. Four city news- boys go to the country on Thanksgiving Day, make the acquaintance of Farmer Brown and his family, have a merry time and a good dinner. Sensible, but full of fun. 6 male, 4 female characters. No troublesome requirements. Time, 40 min- utes. 15 cents. TWENTIETH CENTURY THANKSGIVING EXERCISES, THE. Pro- vides an abundance of choice, new material, including several dialogs for celebrat- ing Thanksgiving in the schoolroom. Practical, gratifying, sensible. 15 cents. BOBBY BREWSTER'S ROOSTER. A delightful Thanksgiving operetta for young folks, by Effie Louise Koogle. The plot is strong; the climax surpris- ing; the music full of life. Two scenes, ordinary furnishings. No costuming. 5 boys and 5 girls required. Any number more may be used. About three-quarters of ah hour. Words and music complete. 25 cents. TWO INVITATIONS, THE. For Thanksgiving. A jolly new operetta- Fun from beginning to end. The music is bright and catchy. Full of clever hits. Easy to give. For 4 boys and 5 girls. 15 cents. HOW TO CELEBRATE THANKSGIVING DAY and other holidays, birth- days of authors and noted men. Full and complete programs provided for every holiday. 25 cents. No entertainments sent on approval or exchanged. Thanksgiving Entertainments — Continued. JACK FROST'S MISTAKE. By Clara J. Denton. A very clever one-act operetta. Four speaking parts and a chorus of any number. Familiar music is given. Easily prepared. The costumes are simple but wonderfully effective. A great success. 8 or more boys. 45 minutes. 25 cents. THANKFUL BOBBY. A solo for a small boy. A delightful Thanksgiving number. Range suited to a small boy's voice. Bobby gives good reasons for being thankful — from a boy's viewpoint. 25 cents. LITTLE THANKSGIVING WORKERS. An action song for one or more little girls. Describes the preparation for the annual feast day most effectively. A pleasing melody which little singers will relish. 25 cents. THANKSGIVING IN BROWNIE-LAND. By Effie Louise Koogle. A rol- licking play for boys. For any time. Full of life and fun. Also contains Novem- ber's Crown. 15 cents. NOVEMBER'S CROWN. A new spectacular entertainment for Thanks- giving. Easy to present, but wonderfully brilliant and pleasing. For 14 girls and boys. 15 cents. CHRYSANTHEMUMS. A fancy march and drill for 12 girls, or 8 girls and 4 boys. Contains original music. Dainty but effective. 15 cents. AUTUMN LEAVES. A fancy drill or exercise for 6 girls carrying sprays of autumn leaves. Simple, but pleasing. 15 cents. Entertainments for Christmas Christmas Operettas THE CHRISTMAS GARDEN. By Edna Randolph Worrell. A lively spectacular play with captivating music. The Sun, Moon, Stars and Flowers, Snov and Blow and Kris appear in appropriate costumes. Spicy colloquy and unusually clever song. 15 or more children. The more the better. Costumes and scenery easily made of crepe paper. Words and music complete. 25 cents. THE TOYS' REBELLION. The famous little operetta which captured the first prize awarded by the Ladies' Home Journal for the best Christmas play for children. Equally as bright and captivating as "Runaway Bear," "Christmas at the Pole," etc., by the same author, Edna Randolph Worrell. Characters : The toys (11 small children), 6 or more boys and girls, 11 to 14 years old, and Kris Kringle. 25 cents. CHRISTMAS AT THE POLE. An operetta for big and little, by Edna Randolph Worrell. For the entire school or a select few. Characters : Uncle Sam, Santa, Twin Explorers, Students (any number), the Nations (any number), Eskimos (any number). Ideal and up-to-date. The text is a lively combination of happy thoughts and pleasant surprises. The music is fascinating and enchanting. We recommend this production most highly. Words and music complete, 40 cents. COL. GRUMPY'S CHRISTMAS. A jolly operetta, by Effie Louise Koogle. At a house party on Christmas eve, a burglary is perpetrated, Santa Claus captured, and lively times ensue. A capital plot. Music provokingly clever and capricious ; dialog spicy and lively. Full of fun and frolic. Easy to learn. No scenery or costumes required. 4 boys and 4 girls in speaking parts, any number more desired. Words and music complete. Three-quarters of an hour. 25 cents. A SURPRISED GRUMBLER, or How Kris Kringle Made a Convert. A new Christmas operetta. Brilliant music, sparkling words. Full of life. Original, Jolly and clever ; sure to captivate the audience. 25 minutes. 15 cents. THE RUN-A-WAY BEAR. A Teddy Bear novelty, by Edna Randolph Worrell. An operetta for any number of children. A unique plot, clever puns, witticisms and music the most pleasing, combine to make one of the rarest up-to- date entertainments. Introduces "Teddy Bear" parade, with catchy music. Cos- tumes simple, and no bothersome requirements. Easy to learn, easy to give. Time, a half hour or longer. Music and dialog complete, 40 cents. KRIS KRINGLE'S MINSTRELS. By Effie Louise Koogle. The "totally different" Christmas entertainment. Add to the attractiveness of the minstrel show idea the distinction of having "His Royal Nibs" as Interlocutor, with equally unique personalities as End Men, endow them with a program flashing with fun, brilliant with beauty, enlivening with song and teeming with specialties, and you have a scream of delight from start to finish. The most novel novelty of the age. 25 cents. Christmas Drills and Marches CHRISTMAS STAR MARCH AND DRILL. Various figures of fancy marches, and a captivating drill. For 16 or 24 girls. Easy to give, picturesque in effect. Diagrams and full explanations given. Exceedingly effective ; sure to delight. 15 cents. HOLLY. A Jumping-rope Drill for 6 girls, by Harriette Wilbur. An original and unique exercise of wonderful beauty. Contains special music. 15 cents. No entertainments sent on approval or exchanged. New York TULLAR-MEREDITH CO. Chicago POPULAR ENTERTAINMENTS THE RAG SOCIABLE. A quaint old fashioned entertainment which is always sure to please. Libretto by Edith S. Tillotson. Music by various Composers. The dialog is very spicy and interesting, and humor and pathos are beautifully blended in the various musical selections. The characters include Mrs. Winters and her two daughters Betsy and Maria, Miss Jemima Rush. Mrs. Bassett, Mrs. Collins, Mrs. Salina Grey, the Allen twins (elderly), Mrs. Martha Ann Hall. Miss Eliza Hall, Mrs. Jane Tompkins and Amanoa Tompkins. The ]ist of characters may be extended ad. lib. to meet local conditions. A fine entertainment for a class of women or girls. Ladies' Aid, Christian Endeavor and Epworth League Societies, etc Price. 25 cents per copy LOVE FINDS THE WAY, or The Detective That Father Hired. Music by Chas. H. GabrieL Words by Rev. Wm. Danforth, author of "The Old District School," etc. A highly amusing farcical song-skit, with four characters: A Determined Young Lover, an Irate Father, a Daughter with a Will of Her Own, and an Aiding and Abetting Mother- parts: tenor, basso, soDrano and alto. This composition consists of singing and dialog for each part and will serve to enliven any entertainment. The music is moderately easy, melodious and should be available in practically all communities This work consists of some 12 pages in sheet music form. The story is as follows: A father, who objects to his daughter having a beau, believing that she is planning to elope with an unknown young man, advertises for a detective to ferret the matter out. The young lover answi-rs the ad- vertisement, and t.ie father hires him to detect the culprit, promising to pay him "anything within reason." When the young lover's tme identity is disclosed, he demands as his reward, for having detected himself, the hand of the daughter. The irate father objects. The daughter eventually convinces him that true love was the real detective in the case, and the parental consent is given. Price. $1.50: 50 per cent discount. THE OLD DISTRICT SCHOOL. A farce in two acts tnew version). Book by Wm. Danforth. Music arr. by Geo. F. Rosche. This is a burlesque on the district school of 100 years ago. Ezekiel Simpkins, the teacher, is the central char- acter His costume is a tight Prince Albert coat, with brass buttons, or a worn and faded "claw-hammer" coat, colored vest cut low; stock collar, with large black tie; trousers, "high-water," with a patch of other color on one knee; well- worn shoes. Bald gray wig and "side" whiskers The costumes of the pupils are in keeping with those of the teacher. The characters all read their lines from the book, so that there is very little to be memorized and for this reason this work can be prepared in a very short time. Price, postpaid, 50 cents per copy. THE CHAPERON. A humorous Operetta in three Acts. Libretto by Wm. Danforth. Music by Geo. F. Rosche. "The Chaperon' is a humorous operetta designed for church choir and young people's societies. It will be found avail- able in all communities in which seven young men ana seven young ladies who sing can be found. The music is bright, tuneful, easy to learn and easy to remember. The dialogue is witty, clean, wholesome and entertaining. Price, post- paid, 60 cents per copy. THE VISION OF HENSEL. An evening with the old songs. The old songs of child- hood, youth, love, war and home. Libretto by Elian N. Wood. There is no friend like an old friend and after all there are no songs we love quite so much as the old ones. This cantata furnishes a beautiful medium for the introduction of the old songs which we all know and love. There is just enough libretto to the work to form a continuous chain of thought throughout, and we know of no cantata that will afford such a pleasing entertainment at such a small expenditure of labor. The book is well worth its price if only to secure this fine collection of old home songs. Full of sentiment, humor and pathos and decidedly new and fresh in construction. Price, 30cents per copy, postpaid; $3.00 per dozen, not prepaid; add 3 cents per copy for postage. < g t*Sg THE SPINSTERS* CLUB. A humorous operetta In two acts. Libretto by Harriet D. Castle. Music by Geo. F. Rosche. "The Spinsters' Club" is a humorous operetta designed for church choirs and young people's societies. It will be found available in all communities in which a church choir is found. The music is bright, tuneful, and yet easy to learn and memorize. The dialogue is witty, pleasing and entertaining. Mce. postpaid 60 cents per copy. A returnable sample copy of any of the above mailed on receipt of 3 cents for postage; to be returned postpaid or paid for in Thirty days. i £ THE VISION OF HENSEL lfe»M!!g^g3»M!SMS& ILLUSTRATED PANTOMIMED HYMNS NEARER MY GOD TO THEE. Posed under the direction of Eleanor H. Denig. This is a particularly fine produc- tion and lends itself admirably for a twelve-minute addition to an evening's entertainment in the church or hall. The instructions are very clear so that this pantomime may be prepared by anyone with ordinary talent or ability. The fourteen full figure halftone illustrations will be found an excellent help. The music is very complete. The regular hymn tune is printed for mixed voices; also an original quartet for voices of women and an original setting for voices of men and an original duet for soprano and alto by J. S. Fearis, thus furnish- ing a variety of music found in no other publication of this sort. Price, 40 cents postpaid. "Not sent on examination.'* IT CAME UPON THE MIDNIGHT CLEAR. Posed under the direction of Eleanor H. Denig. This pantomime will be particuarly interesting during the winter season for a twelve-minute addition to church or other entertainments. The directions are very elaborate, enabling any person to prepare the same successfully. The music is very complete, consisting of a hymn tune for mixed voices: an original setting for voices of both women and men: also a very fine duet soprano and alto; the latter by Chas. H. GabrieL Price. 40 cents per copy postpaid. "Not sent on examination.'' New York TULLAR- MEREDITH CO. Chicago EW PLA LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 016 103 803 9 By Elizabeth F. Cviptill The School at Mud HoUow. A burlesque Females. Time about 2 hours. Price 35 ce PART I. In which is portrayed the diffieultie Pinkham, who has come to "Mud Hollow" to assume the responsible duties of "Teacher" in the school. In selecting "Mud Hollow" she seeks a change from the city life she is accustomed to, and finds plenty of it in the manners, customs and dialect of the pupils. From start to finish there is nothing but fun. PART II. Which represents the last day at the school, when the proud parents are present to listen to the final examination of the class by the Supervisor and enjoy the program which is rendered by the pupils. Part II. offers an opportunity for about 60 minutes of the finest fun possible. "The School at Mud Hollow" may be given in one evening, but for those who would prefer to make two evenings of it, or to give only one part, we offer the same work announced below under the title of "The New Teacher at Mud Hollow School" and "The Last Dap at Mud Hollow School" either of which can be given as a complete entertainment without regard to the other one. The New Teacher at Mud Hollow School. Being Part I. of THE SCHOOL AT MUD HOLLOW. 6 Males and 14 Females. Time about 1 hour. Price 25 cents. The Last Day at Mud Hollow School. Being Part II. of THE SCHOOL AT MUD HOLLOW. 8 Males and 19 Females. Time about 1 hour. Price 25 cents. Santa's Rescue Two mysterious pieces of paper fall into the hands of the children, one being found by the BOYS and one by the GIRLS. The meaning of the in- scription on each remains a mystery until it is discerned that by placing the papers together they have the message that the "Old Witch" of the North has captured "Santa" and holds him in an ice prison at the North Pole. Of course there could be no "Merry Christmas" without their "patron saint", so guided by the "Fairy Godmother" they start for the North Pole to rescue him. The "Old Witch" endeavors to block the rescuers' way by the as- sistance of "Old Zero" and the "Snow Fairies" but when they learn that the snow drifts they are piling up are to aid in keeping "Santa" from his usual Christmas activities they get the "Sunbeam Fairies" to come to their aid and melt the snow, while they bind with a frozen cord the "Old Witch," who is found indulging in a nap which she takes only once every hundred years. With the "Old Witch" powerless and in their control the Rescue of Santa is an easy matter. Tho* Delated somewhat by his enforced stay at the North Pole, the children are glad to become his "aides" in spreading a "Merry Christmas" through all the world. This is a very clever plot, well worked out, and will make a decided hit for the Christmas season. 4 Boys and 5 Girls with any number of Fairies. Time about 1 hour. Price 25 cents. FARCES Taking the Census. Mr. Cole, the Census Taker, has a funny experience in an attempt to gather the facts required by the government from Mrs. Almira Johnson, a "cullud lady," and her young son Alexander. Three characters only. Time about 10 minutes. Price 10 cents. Answering the Phone. Mrs. Courtney and her daughter have a most try- ing experience with Nora Flanagan, the new "hired girl," who in their absence attempts to carry out the instructions given with special reference to "answering the phone." The final situation in which Nora makes a date with Miss Courtney's "intended" is ridiculous in the extreme. 3 females. Time about 15 minutes. Price 10 cents. The Twins and How They Entertained the New Minister. They have a delightful time telling family secrets to the "New Minister," who has called for the first time. They explain the necessity of seeing their mother to find out from her if she is "In," for so often she is "Out" when she is "In" and "In" when she is "Out" 2 Males and 1 Female. Time about 15 minutes. Price 10 cents. NO ENTERTAINMENTS SENT "ON EXAMINATION"