PS 3515 .0935 T6 1 1914 Copy 1 PRICE 15 CENTS Too Much Bobbie Successful Rural Plays A Strong List From Which to Select Your Next Play FARM FOLKS. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur LEWIS Tubes. For five male and six female characters. Time of playing, two hours and a half. One simple exterior, two easy interior scenes. Costumes, modern. Flora Goodwin, a farmer's daughter, is engaged to Philip Burleigh, a young New Yorker. Philip's mother wants him to marry a society woman, and by falsehoods makes Flora believe Philip does not love her. Dave Weston, who wants Flora himself, helps the deception by intercepting a letter from Philip to Flora. She agrees to marry Dave, but on the eve of their marriage Dave confesses, Philip learns the truth, and he and Flora are reunited. It is a simple plot, but full of speeches and situations that sway an audience alternately to tears and to laughter. Price, 25 cents. HOME TIES. A Rural Play in Four Acts, by Arthur Lewis Tubes. Characters, four male, five female. Plays two hours and a half. Scene, a simple interior — same for all four acts. Costumes, modern. One of the strongest plays Mr. Tubbs has written. Martin Winn's wife left him when his daughter Ruth was a baby. Harold Vincent, the nephew and adopted son of the man who has wronged Martin, makes love to Ruth Winn. She is also loved by Len Everett, a prosperous young farmer. When Martin discovers who Harold is, he orders him to leave Ruth. Harold, who does not love sincerely, yields. Ruth dis- covers she loves Len, but thinks she has lost him also. Then he comes back, and Ruth finds her happiness. Price 25 cents. THE OLD NEW^ HAMPSHIRE HOME. A New England Drama in Three Acts, by Frank Dumont. For seven males and four females. Time, two hours and a half. Costumes, modern. A play with a strong heart interest and pathos, yet rich in humor. Easy to act and very effective. A rural drama of the "Old Homstead" and "Way Down East" type. Two ex- terior scenes, one interior, all easy to set. Full of strong sit- uations and delightfully humorous passages. The kind of a play everybody understands and likes. Price, 25 cents. THE OLD DAIRY HOMESTEAD. A Rural Comedy in Three Acts, by Frank Dumont. For five males and four females. Time, two hours. Rural costumes. Scenes rural ex- terior and interior. An adventurer obtains a large sum of money from a farm house through the intimidation of the farmer's niece, whose husband he claims to be. Her escapes from the wiles of the villain and his female accomplice are both starting and novel. Price, 15 cents. A WHITE MOUNTAIN BOY. A Strong Melodrama in Five Acts, by Charles Townsend. For seven males and four females, and three supers. Time, two hours and twenty minutes. One exterior, three interiors. Costumes easy. The hero, a country lad, twice saves the life of a banker's daughter, which results in their betrothal. A scoundrelly clerk has the banker in his power, but the White Mountain boy finds a way to check- mate his schemes, saves the banker, and wins the girl. Price 15 cents. THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA Too Much Bobbie A Farce in One Act By HELEN MORRISON I^OWIE Author of ^^ After the Matinee:;' ^''Those Dreadful Drews^' etc. PHILADELPHIA THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY 1914 COPYRIGKT I9I4 BY The PeNN PUBLISHING COMPANY Too Much Bobbie .DEC II 1914 Too Much Bobbie CHARACTERS Miss Bertha Kent spinster Rita ) , Alice [ ^''' ''''''' Mrs. Mary Griffin her cousiti Nancy Brower Rita's cJmm Sophie a maid Time of Playing : — Twenty-five minutes. STORY OF THE PLAY Two lively sisters, Rita and Alice, have lost their dog, Bobbie, that they have smuggled into their aunt's house. Rita goes out to find it. A friend, Nancy, brings a dog for a present and hides it when warned that Aunt Bertha hates dogs. The aunt, finding Rita away and overhearing talk about Bobbie, concludes that Rita has eloped with a young man, Bobbie Basset. The excitement is high, when Rita, who has failed to find her dog, comes back discouraged. Nancy's present turns out to be the lost Bobbie, Aunt Bertha, glad it is no worse, has a change of heart about keeping Bobbie, and all ends merrily. COSTUMES, ETC. Miss Kent. Forty. Appears in simple morning dress. Changes to black broadcloth walking suit and hat. A tall, thin woman with vinegar expression, domineering and fault- finding. Rita. Seventeen. Attractive street costume, light in weight and color. Alice. Nineteen. Trim shirt-waist and skirt. Mrs. Griffin. Thirty-five. Rich, black traveling cos- tume, suitable for a widow in second mourning. A whole- some looking woman, with a shrewd, kindly face, fearless and outspoken. Nancy. Seventeen. Pretty hat and walking dress. Sophie. Twenty. Black dress with white apron. PROPERTIES Sheets of music, newspaper, magazine, telegram blank, small dog basket, small silver card-tray, larger tea-tray with cups, etc. SCENE PLOT Scene. — Living-room in Miss Kent's house. Too Much Bobbie SCENE. — Tastefully furnished mterior. Doors'^, mid l.. and a?i entrance par tiered c. Table R. c. , with telephone y booksy magazines J etc. Piano upper L. (^At rise of curtain Alice is dow7i l. Enter Rita, r.) Alice. Well, here you are at last ! Rita (^pausing and holding up her finger'). Hark ! Alice {listening'). 1 didn't hear anything. Rita. Wasn't that a bark ? Alice. No. You think everything from a sigh to a lo- comotive whistle is a dog's bark. Rita. Well, he may be brought back any minute — poor little Bobbie. Alice. I hope not. Rita. Why, Alice I You know you think he's the cun- ningest thing. If I ever get him back Alice. You can't keep him. Rita. Why not ? Alice. Aunt Bertha isn't going away, after all. Rita (^frightened). Oh ! Why not ? Alice. She has just heard that an old friend is coming to visit here, so her own trip is postponed. Rita. Well, isn't — that — the — limit? {^Throws herself into chair, R. c.) Where is she now ? Alice. Aunt Bertha? In the dining-room. Rita. Has she finished her breakfast ? Afjce. No, not yet. Rita. When did 'she tell you ? Alice. Just now. Rita. This is awkward, to say the least. Alice {agreeing). To say the least ! Rita. What are we going to do about it ? b TOO MUCH BOBBIE Alice. What are you going to do about it, you mean. You got us into this fix. Rita (ze////z a slight frowtij impatiejitly^. My dear Alice, you said that before. Alice. I'll probably say it again. Not that it will do any good. Rita. When did talk ever do any good ? That's what's the trouble in this house — too much talk. It's talk, talk, talk, from morning till night. Thank goodness, I'm a per- son of deeds. Alice. Yes, misdeeds. If Aunt Bertha knew that you had actually been hiding a dog in your room for the past week Rita {interrupting). There would be more talk. Just what I wish to avoid. Alice. I don't see how you are going to manage it. {A slight pause.) The house will be swarming soon with peo- ple who have found lost dogs. If only you hadn't adver- tised ! Rita {snatching tip her hat and putting it on). If, if, if! If Aunt Bertha didn't hate dogs ! And if I didn't love them ! And if I hadn't bought Bobbie ! And if you hadn't lost him ! Alice {indignantly). I lost your dog ! Rita. Didn't you leave the front door open ? Alice. Certainly not. Rita. Well, somebody did. And my little darling got away. And, Alice, 1 believe you're wicked enough to be glad of it. Alice. Well, I confess I am tired of having my bedroom turned into a dog kennel and the bed full of dog-biscuit crumbs. Rita. Don't exaggerate ! And please don't talk about dog-biscuit. I can't stand it! I found one just a little while ago in the top bureau drawer and it set me off again. {Puts her handkerchief to her eyes.) Poor Bobbie ! He w;is so little trouble ! So quiet, so intelligent and affection- ate ! I wish Aunt Bertha took after him. {Voice 7vithout calls.) Alice {to ^\i:k,warning^y). S-s-^h ! (^Hastily occupies herself 7vith the 7?iusic, arranging and sorting the sheets ; Rita goes to door^ l.) TOO MUCH BOBBIE 7 Rita {dutifully). Yes, Aunt Bertha. I'm just getting ready to go for my singing lesson. {To Alice, with a change of tone.) Find my music roll, hurry up ! {Voice without.) Yes, Aunt Bertha. {To Alice.) Aunt Bertha wishes to know if you have seen this morning's paper any- where about ? Alice {picking 2ip a sheet of music she has dropped on the floor). No. lell her 1 will look for it. Rita [first makiftg a dissenting motiofi to Alice). No, Aunt Bertha, Alice hasn't seen the newspaper {advancing into the rooin and producing a ?iewspaper that she has hidden on her person ; with a change of toiie^ significantly) — yet. Have you, Alice dear ? Alice. My ! You'll get it ! Rita {niocking). My ! You'll get it ! Hope I shall. That's what I advertised for. {Tnr?is the pages.) Where is it? {Reads.) Marriages. Deaths. Found. Lost. Ah! (Alice looks over her shoulder ; reads.) Lost: A copy of Bergson's '' Matter and Memory." {Comments.) Some absent-minded professor put that in. {Reads.) A pair of false teeth. Alice. How ridiculous ! Rita {comtnenting). A bite for somebody. Alice. Rita ! I'm ashamed ! Rita. Here it is ! {Reads. ) . . . fox terrier irregular triangular mark over the left eye. . . . Answers to the name of Bobbie. Reward, ten dollars. Alice. Ten dollars ! Why, you paid only five for him ! Rita. I know. But I'm willing to pay double to get him back again. You see, I love him twice as much as I did at first. Alice {dryly , with a toiich of amusement). I see. But how about the money ? Have you got it ? Rita {with some hesitation, though scarcely abashed). N-no — not exactly. I was hoping that you Alice {inter ruptiiig). There is nothing so deceitful as human hope. Rita. Don't talk like a copy-book ! Didn't you say we would have to offer a reward ? Alice. A suitable reward, I said. Rita {expostulating). Suitable ! Do you realize that that dog is worth his weight in gold? Alice {decidedly). Not my gold. 8 TOO MUCH BOBBIE (JShe goes back to sorti?ig the music. Rita seats herself on the settee, somewhat crestj alien.) Rita {after a pause, accusingly). You have no sisterly affection. Alice {tmperturbed). For a dog ? What next ! Rita (^unheeding). And to-morrow my birthday too. {Suddenly recollects.) By the way — that reminds me. I'll have to 'phone and tell Nancy Brower that it's all off. Alice. Nancy Brower ? Rita. Yes. I haven't seen her for weeks, so I wrote and asked her to come over to-morrow and help us to eat the birthday cake. Alice {with good-natured mockery). So you are going to have a birthday party, are you ? Rita {with a vicious jab at the sofa pillow). Was ! Put it in the past tense, please. 1 was going to have that and other things until you spoiled it all. Alice {leaving the piano, 7?iy stifled and indignant). I spoiled it all ? Rita. Yes. Didn't you just tell me that the unexpected arrival of a friend from the West has decided Aunt Bertha not to take that little trip up state ? What's that if not spoil- ing it all ? Alice {quietly). There are compensations. Rita. Complications, you mean. Alice {unheeding). In the shape of Mrs. Griffin. Rita {starting to her feet). It isn't the Griffin that is coming! (Alice nods.) Dear old Griffin! Why didn't you tell me ! And why, oh why, didn't she delay that let- ter of hers just one post ! Another hour and Aunt Bertha would have gone and {Stops, listens.) Was that the bell ? Alice. Yes. I think so. Gracious ! I hope it isn't people with lost dogs. Rita. Found dogs, you mean. No, I'm afraid it's too early. But I expect that the line will begin to form in about an hour. Then 1 advise you to take up your post near the front door. Alice. Rita, it's no use ! We'll have to take Sophie into our confidence. Rita. That stupid creature ! Never ! We might as well tell Aunt Bertha at once and be done with it. TOO MUCH BOBBIE 9 Alice. We ! You, you mean. Rita. My ! What a row ! 1 shudder to think of it. {There is a troubled, thoughtful pause.) Alice. Still, perhaps it would be better. You can't pos- sibly escape. Suppose you make a clean breast of it. Rita {putting on tier jacket^. Thanks. 1 prefer to turn my back on it. Where's my music roll? Alice. That's you ! You are always getting us into trouble and leaving me to face it. Rita. I like to share things with you. Alice. But what am 1 going to do? I can't Rita {interrupting). Just stay here and keep your wits about you. More than likely we shan't have a single answer. Alice. Stay here? That's all very fine. But you know Aunt Bertha. She won't give me any peace. Ten to one she'll be wanting me to go out and get something for her. Rita. Refuse. Alice. Refuse ! I see you don't know Aunt Bertha ! Rita. Say you have a headache. Say you have taken a bichloride of mercury tablet. Anything, only stay in till I come back. 1 won't waste any time on my trills this morn- ing. I'm in too deep water to linger on the high C's. Oh ! Did you get that ? Alice {gloomily). I hope you'll be as funny an hour from now. Rita. I won't. I'm saddest when I sing. {Takes her 7nusic roll from the piano and prepares to leave the roo?n, door c.) Alice {going to her). Wait a minute. Suppose some one should come. What about the reward? You don't mean to (Rytp^, perceiving Miss Bertha Kent, 7aho enters l., ivith a telegram in her hand, gives Alice a war?iing touch on the arm.) Miss K. Alice, this is from Mrs. Griffin. She has changed her plans and gets here on the morning instead of the evening train. She is due in about fifteen minutes. I wish you would call a taxi and go down to meet her. 10 TOO MUCH BOBBIE Rita {interposing ; eagerly^. Let me go, Aunt Bertha I I'll meet the Griffin. I've lots of time before my lesson. Alice doesn't wish to go out. She said so just a moment ago. {Appeals to Alice.) Didn't you, Alice? {Fran- tically motions to Alice behind her aunf s back.) She has a headache. Haven't you, Alice? Miss K. A headache I Just what I've been expecting. It's a wonder you aren't both ill, the way that you have been keeping yourselves shut up in your room lately. I can't un- derstand this passion for indoors that has suddenly seized you. Before 1 couldn't keep you in. Now 1 can't get you to go out. {To Alice.) What you need is fresh air. This little trip to the station will do you good. Rita {as before). But, Auut Bertha, Alice is going Miss K. {cutting her short, peremptorily). To the depot. And you to your music lesson. But not in that silly sum- mer-weight jacket. Is that a fit garment for this time of the year? Rita. The day is warm. And I'm roasting. Miss K. Of course you are ! And you'll go out in the raw air and catch cold, and I'll have a case of pneumonia on my hands. Rita. But the air isn't raw. Miss K. Don't contradict me ! The air is always raw in November. I've seen more Novembers than you, and I ought to know. (Rita is about to speak.) Now, not another word ! That's what's the trouble in this house — too much argument — too much talk. It's talk, talk, talk, from morning till night ! To a person of few words, like myself, there is nothing more trying. (Alice turns aivay ; Rita smothers an exclamation in a fit of coughing.) There you are ! Coughing away ! And yet you will actually argue with me when I ask you to put on sufficient clothing to pro- tect you from the weather. {With a shake of tJie head.) Oh, dear ! It certainly is discouraging. A weaker nature than mine would have given up the struggle long ago. But I'll fight on. After all, your mother was my sister. And I'll do my duty by you if it kills me. Rita {under her breath, with aii expressive gesture). If it kills us, you mean ! [Runs out c.) Miss K. {to Alice). What did she say ? Alice {evading). I — I didn't hear very well. Some- thing about killing. TOO MUCH BOBBIE II Miss K. {with the air of a martyr^. Killing ! That's just what you girls are doing to me with your ingratitude — killing me by inches. {Puts her hand to her side.) My poor heart is getting worse every day. (^ Phone bell rings ; to Alice sharply.) Well, what are you waiting for? Alice {with a slight gasp). Nothing. {Exit, L.) Miss K. {at the 'phone). Hello! {Pause.) Who is this? {Pause.) Talk a little louder, please, I can't hear you. {Pause.) For pity's sake, don't bellow. I'm not deaf! {Pause.) Did I do what? Did I advertise for a dog? I certainly did not ! I hate, loathe and abominate the beasts I {Pause.) What's that? {Pause.) My good man, I don't care what you read in the newspaper. It's all wrong, I tell you. There wasn't any dog lost from here, because there never was a dog here and there never will be ! Is that plain ? {Pause.) I can't help that. You have the wrong place, that's all. {Pause.) There isn't any use losing your temper about it. All the dogs in the world aren't worth that. {Pause; indignantly.) Sir! {Hangs up re- ceiver.) Impertinent creature ! A dog, indeed ! I'd like to see a dog in this house ! {Efiter Sophie, c.) Sophie. Mrs. Griffin. {Enter Mrs. Mary Griffin, c. Exit Sophie, c.) Miss K. Mary ! Alice has just gone to the depot to meet you. Mrs. G. {regretfully). And I've missed her. I'm sorry. But, Bertha, you know I particularly requested you not to send any one to meet me. {They embrace.) How are you ? I'm glad to find you up and about. I concluded from the tone of your last letter that if I didn't hurry I wouldn't get East in time for the funeral. Miss K. {hurt and reproachful). You may joke. But it is only a question of time. Mrs. G. It is that with all of us, isn't it ? [Removes her coat and hat ; places them on a chair.) Where's Rita? Miss K. Gone for her singing lesson. Oh I the trouble I have with that girl, and Alice, too, for that matter. You 12 TOO MUCH BOBBIE don't know what it means to have two nieces thrust upon you. (^She indicates a chair for her guest, then seats herself.') Mrs. G. {exajnining the rooni). No, I wish I did. Miss K. It is over a year now. And how I have stood it is more than 1 know. It must be that the Lord has strengthened my back to the burden. Mrs. G. {at the piano, tiiriiing over the music ; lightly). At any rate, He gave you a good stiff neck. {Turns from the piano.) But there is one thing, Bertha, that the Lord didn't give you. Miss K. (^suspiciously). Eh? Mrs. G. You don't mind my teUing you? {Seats herself opposite.) Miss K. {ofpendeit). Certainly not. Mrs. G. He didn't give you an understanding of young people. You are making a sad mess of this thing. Every one of your letters showed me that. Miss K. {coldly). Perhaps you think you could do better. Mrs. G. {with imperturbable good hiwio?-). I'm sure of it. In fact, that's what 1 came on to tell you. I'd like to prove it to you. Will you let me? Miss K. Prove it to me ? How ? What do you mean ? Mrs. G. Let me have the girls — for a time at least. John left me more money than I know what to do with, and Miss K. {iuterrtipting). Are you mad ? Mrs. G. No. Only terribly lonely. {Enter Sophie, c.) Miss K. But L Mrs. G. {interruptiiig). Don't answer hastily. Take time to think it over. Miss K. {to Sophie). Well ? Sophie. Please, ma'am, there's a woman at the door. She has a bunch of dogs with her. She says if you hand out the ten dollars you can have your pick. Miss K. {rising), Ten dollars ! What ten dollars ? TOO MUCH BOBBIE 1 3 Sophie. I don't know. But she's waiting for it, and she won't go away. And the dogs are tracknig the mud all about the place. Miss K. This is outrageous ! Tell that female that if she doesn't take her pests away instantly, I'll have every one of them shot or poisoned ! Sophie. Yes, ma'am. And please, ma'am, Mrs. Bassett is down-stairs and wishes to see you very particular. Miss K. Mrs. Bassett ! What can she possibly wish ? Has she a dog with her, too ? Sophie. No, ma'am. Only her husband. (Mrs. G. laughs.) Miss K. (aggrieved). I'm glad you can laugh, Mary. Mrs. G. What is it all about? Have you lost a dog? Miss K. I — a dog ! Mrs. G. Of course not. I forgot. Then what are they bringing them here for? Miss K. That's what I should like to know. Mrs. G. Perhaps you have a practical joker in your neighborhood. Some one who is aware of your pet aver- sion, and Miss K. (interrupting). Perhaps. I don't know. But if you will excuse me, I am going to find out. And when I do, it'll be no joke. Sophie, you will show Mrs. Griffin to her room. {Exit, c. Sophie takes Mrs. G.'s coat and hat.) Sophie. This way, ma'am, if you please. (Exeunt, r.) (E?iter Nancy Brower, c. She carries a basket of tlie type used to convey little dogs. Slie looks about somewhat timidly. After a moment's hesitation she places the basket on the chair at the end of the table ; goes to door r. , which she partly opens.) Nancy {calling softly). Rita. Are you there? {A pause.) Rita. {Enter Mrs. G., r.) Mrs. G. Rita isn' t at home. Is there anything I can do for you ? 14 TOO MUCH BOBBIE Nancy {retreating a step or two). My ! how you frightened me ! 1 thought it was Miss Kent. Mrs. G. [sf?uling). I'm her cousin, Mrs. Griffin. Shall I call her ? Nancy {hastily). Not for the world ! I wouldn't have come up at all if the maid hadn't told me that Rita was at home. I'm her chum, Nancy Brower. Mrs. G. And a very nice chum, I'm sure. Nancy {with a slight gig;^le, gratefully). Oh ! thank you so much. And to-morrow she is going to have a birth- day party. Mrs. G. {in some surprise). A birthday party ! Nancy. Yes. And as 1 am going away and couldn't attend, 1 brought around her present. {Looks in the direc- tion of the basket.) I'm afraid you won't think much of it. I don't myself. But it was the best 1 could do. Fortu- nately, when it comes to dogs, Rita isn't very particular. Mrs. G. (/;/ amused dismay). You don't mean to say that you have brought her a dog ! Nancy. Yes. 1 see you don't think much of it as a present. I don't myself. But I didn't know what to get. And as I was standing in front of a store window trying to decide, an Italian came along with a dog in his arms which he offered to let me have " mucha cheapa." {Goes toward the basket.) Would you like to see him ? I have him here in a basket. The basket didn't come with him, of course. Mother let me have that. Mrs. G. {stopping her). No, no ! Don't take him out. I'm sorry, but you must not leave him here. This is no place for a dog. Miss Kent doesn't like dogs. And to-day she is particularly sensitive on the subject. Nancy {ivith a look of dismay). I never thought about that. {Dejectedly.) Though 1 might have known. Even some amiable people dislike dogs. {A slight pause, duriiig which they stand looking at each other.) What am I going to do about it ? I can't take him home. We leave for Boston this afternoon, and the house is going to be closed. Mrs. G. Perhaps you could find the man. _ Nancy {skeptically). In the streets of New York ? [She sits disconsolately on the edge of a chair. A pause ; voice 7vithout ; Nai^cy jumps up in alarm.) It isn't Miss Kent, is it ? Mrs. G. {listening; tuith a nod). I think so. TOO MUCH BOBBIE 1 5 Nancy. Oh ! Mrs. G. We had better hide that dog. Nancy {snatching fip the basket). And me too, please. (Looks around wildly.) But where — where? Mrs. G. {opening door^ r.). Here ! Into my room. First door on tiie left. {She shuts the door, r., o?i Nancy, a?id is seated by the table turning over the leaves of a magazine when Miss K. e filers, c.) Miss K. Well, if the day continues as it has begun, there will be some excitement here before bedtime. Mrs. G. {zuith a glance in the direction of door 'R.'). I'm sure of it. Miss K. Between dogs and Bobbie ! Mrs. G. Bobbie ? Who's Bobbie ? Miss K. {sitting'). Mrs. Bassett's darling boy. She was in here just now weeping all over my new divan. He has run away from home. Mrs. G. {repeating). Run away ! Was there any rea- son for his leaving his home ? Miss K. {zvith grifji humor). I don't know of any, except that his parents live there. Mrs. G. Are you a friend of theirs ? Miss K. No, indeed. I made that perfectly clear to them this" morning. — Neighbors, whom I hardly know. And why they should bother me with their affairs is more than I can understand. {Struck by a sudden thought.) Unless it is that they suspect— — {Excited ; rises.) Yes, yes, that must be it 1 Mary ! Mrs. G. {going to her). What's the matter ? Miss K. {with her hand on Mrs. G.'s ar77i). Perhaps a change would be beneficial for the girls. 1 was going to say no, but {Stops.) Mrs. G. Something has made you change your mind ? Miss K. Yes — Bobbie. Mrs. G. Bobbie ! Miss K. {sinking into her chair). Sit down and I'll tell you all about it. But first, please open that door {indicating door R.), and give me some air. I feel really quite faint. {After a slight hesitation Mrs. G. opens the door.) After all my care and training to think that it should come to — Bobbie ! {Sound of a smothered sneeze ; sitting up ; listen- l6 TOO MUCH BOBBIE ing.) What was that ? It sounded like a sneeze. If I were asked I should say it came from the direction of your room. Mus. G. {iineasily). Nonsense ! Who is going to sneeze in my room when I'm not there? JMiss K. {going toward door, R.). It will do no harm to investigate. Mrs. G. {intercepting). Oh, yes, it will. Miss K. It may be a burglar. Mrs. G. I'm positive it isn't. Miss K. Very well. If any of your effects are missing don't blame me. (Sits.) Mrs. G. i won't. Now, tell me about Bobbie. {Sits.) What makes you connect his name with those of the girls? Has he been attentive to them — has he called ? Miss K. Called ! I should like to see him ! Mrs. G. Then how ? Miss K. {interrupting). How? How do girls do every- thing that you don't wish them to do? Mrs. G. But what have they done ? Miss K. They've been aciing queerly — very queerly of late. Mrs. G. In what way? Miss K. Oh, unusually quiet and keeping to themselves a great deal and starling and changing color when spoken to. Mrs. G. Qnnsing). Those are the symptoms. Has Bob- bie got them, too ? Miss K. I don't know anything about Bobbie. Mrs. G. I thought you knew everything about Bobbie. Miss K. Except that his name has been constantly on their lips. Mrs. G. They have discussed him with you? Miss K. With me ! Mrs. G. {hastily). Oh, no, of course not. Then how do you know ? Miss K. I overheard them. It has been Bobbie, Bob- bie, Bobbie, all the week. Yesterday 1 came in here and surprised Rita writing a note which she refused to show me. She declared it wasn't of any importance. But, of course, I didn't believe her. And she looked as though she had been crying. There is something underhand going on. Of that 1 am sure. Mrs. G. How did they get acquainted with this young man ? TOO MUCH BOBBIE I7 Miss K. I don't know. I believe they attended the same school. Mrs. G. {after a slight thoughtful pause). It can't be anything serious. Just a boy and girl flirtation. Miss K. When a girl stoops to flirt with a boy, it is serious enough, I should say. Mrs. G. With whom would a girl flirt, if not with a boy ? However, Bobbie is gone, and they will soon forget all about him. {Enter Sophie, c, with a card on a tray.) Miss K. Don't tell me that woman is back again ? Sophie. Oh, no, ma'am. {Iimocenily.) She wouldn't dare come back after what you said to her. But before she left, one of her dogs killed the next door gentleman's cat, and he says he is going to sue you — if not worse. Miss K. Sue me ! Why should he sue me ? I didn't kill his cat. {Takes the card.) Though goodness knows, I've wanted to many a time. {Looks at the card.) Sig- norina Luca. Rita's singing teacher. {To Sophie.) Is Rita with her ? {^ Phone rings.) Sophie. No, ma'am. Miss K. There it goes ! More dogs 1 Mary, will you answer it? I can't trust myself. (Mrs. G., with a slight amused laugh, goes to the ^ phone.) {^Exeunt Miss K. and Sophie, c.) Mrs. G. {at the 'phone). Hello ! {Pause.) Is Mrs. Griffin here? Well, rather. {Pause.) Is that you, Ahce? (Pause.) At the depot ail this time! You poor child, what a shame ! {Pause.) I should say so. And I'm dying to see you and hug you and mother you — you poor little aunt-ridden What is that ? {Pause.) You can't hear me? Perhaps it is just as well. {Raises her voice.) Hurry home ! Can you hear that ? {Pause ; with a laugh.) Yes, indeed. Good-bye. {Hangs up receiver as Nancy peeps i^ito the room, r.) Nancy. Has she gone ? Mrs. G. Yes. (Nancy enters.) And, my dear young lady, I wish you had. l8 TOO MUCH BOBBIE Nancy {ruefully). You don't wish it any more than I do. {Goes to doory L.). There's a back stair somewhere. Mrs. G. Where's the dog ? Nancy. He's asleep on your bed. He seems to be per- fectly at home. Mrs. G. I should say so. {Goes toward door, r.) Nancy. You had better not disturb him. He's quiet now. Mrs. G. If you can take him without disturbing him Nancy {interrupting). But I can't take him — I simply can't. Mrs. G. And I can't keep him — I simply can't. My dear child, if you knew {Enter Miss K., c, /// a state of the utmost agitation. Nancy, finding escape i?npossible, sifiks into a chair. ^ Miss K. Mary ! They've gone ! Mrs. G. Who? What? Miss K. Rita and Bobbie. Eloped ! Mrs. G. Eloped ! Nancy. Eloped ! Miss K. Nancy Brower ! {Takes her roughly by the shoulder.) Where did you come from? Nancy {frighteiied). I — I don't know. Miss K. Are you a party to this deception ? Did you know about Bobbie ? Nancy {as before). No, no — really ! Who is Bobbie ? Miss K. {going to the 'phone). To think that this should happen after all my care ! (Mrs. G. stops her as she is about to take dowfi receiver.) Mrs. G. What are you going to do ? Miss K. Notify the police. Mrs. G. No, no. There may be some mistake. How do you know that they have eloped ? Miss K. How do I know ? Rita not at the studio, as her teacher has just this moment informed me. Young Bassett not at home. The whole thing is perfectly clear. Mrs. G. It will have to be made clearer before I'm satisfied. And I advise you not to take any action in the matter until TOO MUCH BOBBIE 1 9 Miss K. {interrupting). Do you realize that while we are wasting time talking about it — they may be getting married. Nancy. Married ! Just think of it I (^Enter Alice, c.) Alice {luho has overheard the last few words'). Who is getting married ? Nancy {jumping up). Here's Alice ! Mrs. G. Perhaps she will be able to help us. {Goes to Alice.) My dear, where is Rita ? Miss K. {to Alice). If you have been a party to this wretched deception, confess it at once. Alice. What deception ? Do you mean about Bobbie ? Miss K. {turning to Mrs. G.). There, you see ! She knows. Alice {bewildered). What do I know ? What are you talking about ? Miss K. About the elopement. They've gone — your sister and that wretched Bassett boy ! Alice {after standing for an instant in speechless aniaze- me?it). Gone ! So that was why she was at the depot ! Miss K. At the depot ! Mrs. G. The depot ! Nancy. Depot ! Alice. Yes. As I came out of the telephone booth, she rushed across the waiting-room and disappeared in the direc- tion of the train shed. Miss K. What did I tell you ! What did I tell you ! Now we are probably too late ! [Rushes wildly from the room, L.) Alice {amazed and incredulous). Rita ! Eloped ! Nancy {who is beginning to enjoy the excitement). Isn't it thrilling ! Alice {as before). Without telling me ! Mrs. G. It is possible that she has left a message. Per- haps in her room you may find Nancy {iriterrupting). A note. Yes. They always leave a note. You had better go and see. {Exit Alice, R. ; 'phone rings.) There ! I shouldn't wonder if Miss Kent has notified the police. Perhaps that's the chief 'phoning for particulars. 20 TOO MUCH BOBBIE Mrs. G. {at the 'phone'). Hello. {Pause.) Miss Nancy Brower. Nancy {somewhat apprehensively). That's me — I. What do ihey want ? 1 didn't have anything to do with it. I don't wish to get mixed up with the police. Tell them — won't you, please ! Mrs. G. {amused). My dear child, don't be absurd. It isn't the police. It's your mother. Nancy {relieved). Mother ! I had forgotten I had a mother. Mrs. G. Come and talk to her. (Nancy goes to the 'photie ; exit Mrs. G., r.) Nancy {at the 'phone). Hello, mother dear. {Pause ; contritely.) Yes. And I suppose I've made you lose tlie train and upset all your plans, but 1 couldn't help it. We have an elopement and {Pause.) No, no, 1 haven't eloped. {Pause.) What's that you say ? Wearen't going ? Oh, I'm so glad ! {Pause.) 1 can't. In fact, I don't know myself. It's all sort of mixed up. You see everybody is so excited. {Pause.) Yes. And mother, will you look up my prettiest photograph ? This is going to get into the newspapers. And I'll be named as the eloping couple's best friend. {Pause.) Luncheon. What's luncheon compared to an elopement? {Pause.) No, don't wait for me. Good-bye. {Jiangs up receiver as Mrs. G., followed by Alice, enters the room.) Did you find anything? Mrs. G. {with a shake of the head). Nothing. {To Alice, who seems too stunned to think or act.) My dear, you probably know more about your sister than any one else. You must help us to unravel this. {Indicates chair for Alice and seats herself near her.) You say you don't be- lieve she has gone? Alice. I can't believe it. Rita wouldn't do such a thing. Mrs. G. What do you know about — what's his name — Bobbie ? Alice. He was Rita's pet, not mine. All I know is we kept him hidden in the house for a week, and (Nancy gives a screech and falls back into a chair.) Mrs. G. {scandalized). My dear child ! What are you saying? TOO MUCH BOBBIE 21 Alice. I know it was wrong, and that we oughtn't to have done it. But with an aunt like ours, what are you going to do? I begged Rita to give him up, but she wouldn't. She was just crazy about him. [Efifer Miss K. l., dressed for the street.) Miss K, I have just talked to Mrs. Bassett. She says her son has been traced to Philadelphia. Mrs. G. Where are you going ? Miss K. I am going after him. Nancy (to herself). Poor Bobbie ! Mrs. G. Bertha, I think you are making a mistake. If you take my advice, you will remain quietly at home. Alice (u'ho has risen ; her voice shaking with indignation and excitement). Besides, you don't really know. Oh ! The whole tiling is outrageous ! Miss K. {turning on her). Silence ! (Alice sits by the table and buries her face in her hands ; Nancy goes to her.) Nancy {consolingly). Don't, dear, don't ! They'll come back again. Maybe they won't like Philadelphia. Miss K. They certainly won't after I get there 1 {Exit, c.) Mrs. G. {following her). Wait a moment, Bertha. You are going to make a mess of this, just as sure as {Gives it up with a hopeless gesture.) Nancy {to Alice, who is sobbing ; distressed). Please don't 1 I love to cry myself, but I hate to see any one else doing it. {Strj/ck by a happy thought.) Oh, wait a mo- ment ! I have a surprise for you. {To Mrs. G.) Shall I ? (Mrs. G. nods ; Nancy runs out r. Alice ^o-^^j- to Mrs. G., who takes her in her arms.) Alice {wiping her eyes). You don't believe it, do you ? Mrs. G. No. I feel sure there must be some mistake. (Nancy bursts into the rootn, r.) Nancy. He's gone ! 22 TOO MUCH BOBBIE Mrs. G. The dog ? Nancy. Yes — the dog. Alice {astounded). A dog ! You too ! Nancy. Two ! No — just one. A little bit of a — oh, look for him, won't you ! {Searches.) Mrs. G. You left him in my room, you say ? Nancy. Yes. Mrs. G. He can't be far away. (Exit, ^., followed by Alice ; Nancy conti?iues her search ; she is 071 her knees half under the table when Rita enters C. ; she looks tired and discouraged.) Rita {after surveying Nancy /;/ puzzled amazement). Nancy Brower ! What under the sun are you doing ? Nancy {scrambling to her feet). Rita ! So you didn't go to Philadelphia? Rita {^removing her hat and coat). No, I went quite a distance. But hardly as far as Philadelphia. Nancy. What doing ? Rita. I was running after a man. Nancy. Running after ! Didn't he want to take you with him ? Rita {sitting; dryly). No, he didn't seem particularly anxious for my company. Nancy {indigtiantly). The brute ! {After a slight pause, with a touch of disappointment r) So it isn't an elopement after all ! ^\TK {puzzled). An elopement! {Gives it up.) Nancy, I'm afraid I'm too tired to appreciate a joke. Nancy. A joke ! If you had been here this morning, you wouldn't have thought it a joke. Do you know that at this very moment your Aunt Bertha is on her way to Phila- delphia after you and Bobbie Bassett. Rita {now thoroughly aroused and indignatit). I ! Eloped with Bobbie Bassett ! Why, I hardly know the boy. Nancy {with a gasp). You hardly know him ! Rita ! How can you say such a thing ! After hiding him here for a whole week. Rita. Hiding ! Bobbie Bassett ! {Puts her hand to her head. ) {Enter Alice, r., followed by Mrs. G.) TOO MUCH BOBBIE 27 Nancy. Yes (J^uns to Alice.) Didn't she, Alice? Alice. What? (&^i- Rita.) Rita! (7^; Mrs G- triumplianily.') What did 1 tell you ! • • * (/^ about to go to Rita, but Nancy detaiiis her; Mrs. G. 6711 braces Rita.) Nancy. Answer me first. Alice. What ? Nancy. Didn't you say that Rita had been hiding that ±5assett boy ni the house for over a week ? Alice {amazed and shocked). Never ' Nancy. What ! You deny it ? Alice. Absolutely. Nancy {putting her hand to her head). Oh ' (Af>- peals to Mrs. G.) You heard it. • v /- Mrs G. She was so nervous and excited that I doubt if she realized what she was saying. Alice {to Mrs. G.). What did I say ? Mrs. G You said that you had kept Bobbie hidden in the house for over a week. Rita. Well, so we did. Nancy {wide-eyed; throwing up her hands). And just a moment ago they denied it ! Alice (indignant). I said Bobbie. I didn't say Bobbie liassett. There are other Bobbies beside Bobbie Bassett Mrs. G. He seemed to be the only Bobbie in the world this morning. Nancy. And the other Bobbie ? Alice {withering/y). The other Bobbie is a dog. Mrs. G. {relieved). Oh ! Nancy {weakly). A dog ! I might have known it. Rita {indignantly). Do you think I would look at a man ! Nancy {inter ruptificr). No— not when there was a dog around. I said as much to your aunt. (Penitently.) For- give me— please. Both of you. Mrs. G. With your Aunt Bertha in the same house ! What possessed you to do such a thing? Rita. I don't know. I just wanted a dog, and I bought one. It was all my fault. Alice. We were going to tell, but we kept putting it off trom day to day. Then we lost him. Rita. Then I advertised. As Aunt Bertha expected to 24 TOO MUCH BOBBIE be gone for several days, I thought it would be safe. Un- fortunately, she changed her plans. Mrs. G. So it was you who advertised ? Rita. Did you have any answers? Mrs. G. Yes, and they are still coming. Alice {to Rita). There, you see ! I told you what would happen ! We'll never hear the last of this. Rita {with a touch of recklessness). I don't care. If I could only get my dog again. To think that that man should have him ! Mrs. G. Man? Nancy. The man you were running after? Alice. Running after a man ! And she said just a mo- ment ago that she wouldn't look at a man. Rita. Yes, I've been running after a man, but the man wasn't Bobbie Bassett, and before I go any further, I wish to know what all this elopement talk means. What be- gan it ? Alice {at a loss). I — I don't believe I know. Do you, Nancy ? Nancy. Why, it was {Stops noriplussed.) No, I don't believe 1 do. You'll have to ask your Aunt Bertha. She got up this elopement. Mrs. G. {icnth a sviile, motioning Rita to a seat beside her on the settee). I think I can exi)lain. (Nancy j/'/j-/ Alice lea?is against the table.) Your aunt overheard you two girls talking about Bobbie. Alice {to Rita). I told you, more than once, that you were talking too loudly. Mrs. G. Then came the news that young Bassett had disappeared. Rita {repeati?ig). Disappeared ! Nancy {nodding). Gone! Left his home and mother, naughty boy ! Mrs. G. And immediately after the receipt of that news, word came from your singing teacher that you had failed to keep your appointment. You see? Rather slim material out of which to build an elopement. But your aunt — well— you know how she is? Rita. Yes. I know. {A thoughtful ptitise.) Alice {to Rita). Why didn't you go for your lesson ? Rita. As I was in the car on my way to Signorina's, I saw a rough -looking fellow crossing the street with Bobbie TOO MUCH BOBBIE 25 in his arms. I got off in time to see him disappear around the corner. I ran after him as far as the depot. Alice. I saw you. Nancy {who had been listening intently to the above'). Did he have a red woolen scarf about his throat ? Rita. Yes. Why do you ask ? Nancy (ignoring the question). And Bobbie is just a pup, isn't he? A fox terrier with a pecuHar splotch on his forehead ? Rita. Yes. Nancy {to Mrs. G. \ excited). It's my man and my dog ! Rita. Your dog ! Alice. Your man ! Nancy {as before). Don't you see? The dog I bought and brought here this morning is Bobbie. That horrid ItaHan probably stole him or picked him up on the street. I'm making her a present of her own dog on her own birth- day. Rita {incredulous and delighted). Bobbie ! Here ! Nancy. Yes. {Recollects.) That is — he was here. {To Alice.) Did you find him? Alice. No. We had just started to look for him when I heard Rita's voice. Nancy {running out r.). This way, Rita. Rita {as she follows). Look on the sofa in my room. Alice. And I thought I was rid of that dog ! {Follows Nancy a?id Rita. Mrs. G. is about to follow ivhen she hears Miss K.'s voice. Enter Miss K., c, talking to Sophie, who follows and stands just inside the doorway. Miss K. is sofnetvhat ashamed, and somewhat subdued and very cross.) Miss K. And Sophie, if any one calls, say I am indis- posed. Sophie. Yes, ma'am. {Turns to go.) Miss K. And Sophie Sophie. Yes, ma'am. Miss K. Bring me a cup of tea — extra strong — at once. Sophie. Yes, ma'am. {Leaves the room.) Mrs. G. {secretly amused). Oh ! I thought you were on your way to Philadelphia? Miss K. {avoiding Mks. G.'s eye). I was. 26 TOO MUCH BOBBIE Mrs. G. What stopped you ? Miss K. Bobbie Bassett. Mrs. G. Bobbie Bassett ! And where has he been ? Miss K. I don't know exactly. He said something about the VV^orld's Series in Philadelphia, and having sent a message to his mother that was never received — but 1 didn't stop to listen. Mrs. G. {with a change of to7ie). That's the trouble with you. Miss K. Eh ? Mrs. G. You never stop to listen. Bertha, I shouldn't like to tell you what 1 think of your conduct this morning. All this talk and pubhcity about nothing ! If you are not ashamed of yourself — you ought to be. And the least you can do is to ajx^logize all round. Miss K. {bridling'). 1 never apologized in my life. Mrs. G. Then it is high time you began. This might have turned out seriously. If it had, it would have been all your fault. Miss K. All my fault ! What about Rita ? Where is she? Mrs. G. Here. And has explained everything satisfac- torily — a very simple matter. Miss K. It will take some explaining to satisfy me ! Mrs. G. {severely). Bertha, if you are wise, you will let this matter drop right here. Miss K. Where is she ? Mrs. G. In there. {Motions R.) You might as well know it — Nancy Brower has brought her a dog for a birth- day present. Miss K. A dog! In my house {Starts R.) Mrs. G. {warningly). Now, Bertha ! (Miss K. stops ^ glares at her, but evidently gives it up.) Miss K. Well, I suppose she'll take it with her when she visits you. {Enter Sophie, c, with cup of tea on a tray.) To my room — stupid ! Mrs. G. So you will let them come. Bertha? That's fine. I'll try to show you Miss K. {protestingly). No — not another word, Mary. I've had enough to-day, {Exit, L.) TOO MUCH BOBBIE 27 (^Eiiter Nancy, r.) Nancy. We've found him. He was in Rita's room. And it is really and truly Bobbie. Mrs. G. {Jiolding up her hand). S-s-sh ! Miss Kent has returned. Nancy Qlisappoinied). Oh ! (^Goes to door r., which she has left open; ^notions.) Don't bring him in here. Take him back. Your aunt has returned. (^Enter Alice.) Alice. Now we're going to get it ! (^Enter Rita.) Rita {to Mrs. G.). I thought she had gone to Phila- delphia. What made her change her mind ? Mrs. G. Young Bassett. Nancy. So the other Bobbie has been found, too ? Mrs. G. Yes. Alice. Where is he ? Mrs. G. At present he may be expiating his love of sport. It seems that he went to Philadelphia to see the base- ball games. Rita {nervously). Oh, dear ! What am I going to say to Aunt Bertha? Mrs. G. Nothing. Leave it all to me. You may keep the dog, but you'd better keep him out of your aunt's sight until you leave. \^^ \ (together). Leave ! Where are we going? Mrs. G. To my home in the West. Alice. But Aunt Bertha Rita. She'll never consent. Mrs. G. But she has already consented. Rita. Oh, Griffin, you're a magician ! Nobody but yourself could have done it. {Hugs her.) Mrs. G. I think Bobbie helped. Rita. Bobbie ! How ? Mrs. G. ril tell you all about that — after. Alice. You're an angel ! {Throws her arjus about Mrs. G.) curtain Unusually Good Entertainments Read One or More of These Before Deciding on Your Next Program GRADUATION DAY AT WOOD HILIi SCHOOL. An Entertainment in Two Acts, by Ward Macauley. For six males and four females, with several minor parts. _ Time of playing, two hours. Modern costumes. Simple interior scenes; may be presented in a hall without scenery. The unusual com- bination of a real "entertainment," including music, recitations, etc., with- an interesting love story. The graduation exercises include short speeches, recitations, songs, funny interruptions, and a comical speech by a country school trustee. Price, 15 cents. EXAMINATION DAY AT WOOD HILL SCHOOL. An Entertainment in One Act, by Ward Macauley. Eight male and six female characters, with minor parts. Plays one hour. Scene, an easy interior, or may be given without scenery. Cos- tumes, modern. Miss Marks, the teacher, refuses to marry a trustee, who threatens to discharge her. The examination in- cludes recitations and songs, and brings out many funny answers to questions. At the close Robert Coleman, an old lover, claims the teacher. Very easy and very effective. Price, 15 cents. BACK TO THE COUNTRY STORE. A Rural Enter- tainment in Three Acts, by Ward Macauley. For four male and five female characters, with some supers. Time, two hours. Two scenes, both easy interiors. Can be played effectively with- out scenery. Costumes, modern. All the principal parts are sure hits. Quigley Higginbotham, known as "Quig," a clerk in a country store, aspires to be a great author or singer _ and decides to try his fortunes in New York. The last scene is in Quig's home. He returns a failure but is offered a partnership in the country store. He pops the question in the midst ot a surprise party given in his honor. Easy to do and very funny. Price, 15 cents. THE DISTRICT CONVENTION. A Farcical Sketch in One Act, by Frank Dumont. For eleven males and one female, or twelve males. Any number of other parts or super- numeraries may be added. Plays forty-five minutes. No special .scenery is required, and the costumes and properties^ are all easy The play shows an uproarious political nominating con- vention. The climax comes when a woman's rights cham- pion, captures the convention. There is a great chance to bur- lesoue modern politics and to work in local gags. Every part will make a hit. Price, 15 cents. SI SLOCUM^S COUNTRY STORE. An Entertainment in One Act, by Frank Dumont. Eleven male and five female characters with supernumeraries. Several parts may be doubled Plays one hour. Interior scene, or may be played without set scenery. Costumes, modern. The rehearsal for an entertain- ment in the village church gives plenty of opportunity tor specialty work. A very jolly entertainment of the sort adapted to almost any place or occasion. Price, 15 cents. THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA Unusually Good Entertainments Read One or More of These Before Deciding on Your Next Program A SURPRISE PARTY AT BRINKLEY'S. An En- tertainment in One Scene, by Ward Macauley. Seven male and seven female characters. Interior scene, or may be given with- otit scenery. Costumes, modern. Time, one hour. By the author of the popular successes, "Graduation Day at Wood Hill School," "Back to the Country Store," etc. The villagers have planned a birthday surprise party for Mary Brinklcy, recently graduated from college. They all join in jolly games, songs, conundrums, etc., and Mary becomes engaged, which surprises the surprisers. The entertainm.ent is a sure success. Price, 15 cents^ JONES VS. JINKS. A Mock Trial in One Act, by Edward Mumfokd. Fifteen male and six female characters, with supernumeraries if desired. May be played all male. Many of the parts (members of the jury, etc.) are small. Scene, a simple interior ; may be played withovit scenery. Costumes, modern. Time of playing, one hour. This mock trial has many novel features, unusual characters and quick action. Nearly every character has a funny entrance and laughable lines. There are many rich parts, and fast fun throughout. Price, 15 cents. THE SIGHT-SEEING CAR. A Comedy Sketch in One A,ct, by Ernest M. Gould. For seven males, two females, or may be all male. Parts may be doubled, with quick changes, so that four persons may play the sketch. Time, forty-five minutes. Simple street scene. Costumes, modern. The superintendent ■of a sight-seeing automobile engages two men to run the machine. A Jew, a farmer, a fat lady and other humorous characters give them all kinds of trouble. This is a regular gat- ling-gun stream of rollicking repartee. Price, 15 cents. THE CASE OF SMYTHE VS. SMITH. An Original Mock Trial in One Act, by Frank Dumont. Eighteen males and two females, or may be all male. Plays about one hour. Scene, a county courtroom ; requires no scenery ; may be played in an ordinary hall. Costumes, modern. This entertainment is nearly perfect of its kind, and a sure success. It can be easily produced in any place or on any occasion, and provides almost any number of good parts. Price, 15 cents. THE OLD MAIDS' ASSOCIATION. A Farcical Enter-, tainment in One Act, by Louise Latham Wilson. For thirteen females and one male. The male part may be played by a female, and the number of characters increased to twenty or more. Time, forty minutes. The play requires neither scenery nor properties, and very little in the way of costumes. Can easily be prepared in one or two rehearsals. Price, 25 cents. BARGAIN DAY AT BLOOMSTEIN'S. A Farcical Entertainment in One Act, by Edward Mum ford. For five males and ten females, with supers. Interior scene. Costumes, mod- ern. Time, thirty minutes. The characters and the situations which arise from their endeavors to buy and sell make rapid-fire fun from start to finish. Price, 15 cents. THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA Successful Plays for All Girls In Selecting Your Next Play Do Not Overlook This List YOUNG DOCTOR DEVINE. A Farce in Two Acts, by Mrs. E. J. H. Goodfelluw. One of the most popular plays for girls. For nine female characters. Time in playing, thirty minutes. Scenery, ordinary interior. Mod- ern costumes. Girls in a boarding-school, learning that a young doctor is coming to vaccinate all the pupils, eagerly con- sult each other as to the manner of fascinating the physician. When the doctor appears upon the scene the pupils discover that the physician is a female practitioner. Price, 15 cents. SISTER MASONS. A Burlesque in One Act, by Frank DuMONT. For eleven females. Time, thirty minutes. Costumes, fantastic gowns, or dominoes. Scene, interior. A grand expose of Masonry. Some women profess to learn the secrets of a Masonic lodge by hearing their husbands talk in their sleep, and they institute a similar organization. Price, 15 cents. A COMMANDING POSITION. A Farcical Enter- tainment, by Amelia Sanford. For seven female char- acters and ten or more other ladies and children. Time, one hour. Costumes, modern. Scenes, easy interiors and one street scene. Marian Young gets tired living with her aunt. Miss Skinflint. She decides to "attain a commanding position." Marian tries hospital nursing, college settlement work and school teaching, but decides to go back to housework. Price, 15 cents. HOW A WOMAN KEEPS A SECRET. A Comedy in One Act, by Frank Dumont. For ten female characters. Time, half an hour. Scene, an easy interior. Costumes, modern. Mabel Sweetly has just become engaged to Harold, but it's "the deepest kind of a secret." Before announcing it they must win the approval of Harold's uncle, now in Europe, or lose a possible ten thousand a year. At a tea Mabel meets her dearest friend. Maude sees Mabel has a secret, she coaxes and Mabel tells her. But Maude lets out the secret in a few minutes to another friend and so the secret travels. Price, 15 cents. THE OXFORD AFFAIR. A Comedy in Three Acts, by Josephine H. Cobb and Jennie E. Paine. For eight female characters. Plays one hour and three-quarters. Scenes, inter- iors at a seaside hotel. Costumes, modern. The action of the play is located at a summer resort. Alice Graham, in order to chaperon herself, poses as a widow, and Miss Oxford first claims her as a sister-in-law, then denounces her. The onerous duties of Miss Oxford, who attempts to serve as chaperon to Miss Howe and Miss Ashton in the face of many obstacles, furnish an evening of rare enjoyment. Price 15 cents. THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY PHILADELPHIA LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 908 451 6 P; The Power of Expression Expression and efficiency go hand in hand. The power of clear and forceful expression brings confi- dence and poise at all times — in private gatherings, in public discussion, in society, in business. It is an invaluable asset to any man or woman. It can often be turned into money, but it is always a real joy. In learning to express thought, we learn to command thought itself, and thought is power. You can have this power if you will. Whoever has the power of clear expression is always sure of himself. The power of expression leads to: The ability to think "on your feet" Successful public speaking Effective recitals The mastery over other minds Social prominence Business success Efficiency in any undertaking Are these things worth while? They are all successfully taught at The National School of Elocution and Oratory, which during many years has de- veloped this power in hundreds of men and women. A catalogue giving full information as to how any of these accomplishments may be attained will be sent free on request. THE NATIONAL SCHOOL OF ELOCUTION AND ORATORY Parkway Building Philadelphia LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 908 451 6 ^