ER'5 Edition or PL7\Y3 A KETTLE OF FISH Price, 16 Cents Return this book on or before the Latest Date stamped below. University of lUinoisLibrary ^,;;i*^' L161— H41 REMOTE STORAGE iri^^^^^SiS^^ A KETTLE OF FISH Jk. ^avjcijcal &iamz&^ in ^Uxzi^ Judts ADAPTED FROM THE GERMAN OF FRANZ VON SCHONTHAN BOSTON CHARACTERS. FREDERICK SALMON A country gentleman PAUL TURBOT His son-in-law HERBERT GRAYLING Prospecting for love DR. POLLOCK Prospecting for himself SIGNOR PESCATORE .... Prospecting fhr another CRAB A postman MRS. SALMON Salmon's better half MAUD Her daughter, married to Paul ROSA Tier aaughter, unmarried MINNA •.... A maid-servant Time.— The present. Costumes.— Modern. Time in Representation.— Two hours and a quarter. CorYRiGHT, iSgo, BY Walter H. Baker & Co. f3VS37f REMOTE STORAG f) A KETTLE OF FISH. ACT I. Scene. — The sitting-room in an old country house, well- furnished, looking into a conservatory through which is seen a spacious garden ; two doors, R. and L. ; window at back, looking on to garden ; furniture in good style but not ■modern] chairs, table, couch, &'c., Qr'c., placed- as on plan. Gas full on during whole Act. Enter Mrs. Salmon yr<7^ conservatory, followed by Mum a, with two letters and a newspaper on salver. Mrs. S. Did you tell Mrs. Dawson to come to me, Minna? MiN. Yes, ma'am. And, if you please, here is a news- paper and a letter for her and a letter for you. {Hands them on salver.^ Mrs. S. {anxiously'). Give them to me please, Minna. ^.Send Grubb to BlundeU's to ask if « ' The Fragrant Leaflets " ^ has arrived yet ; if so let him bring a copy. Tell him to go cv'at once ; and then come back here yourself instantly, in- -i'-stantly. ^ MiN. (going). "Instantly." I think I've heard that word , w before. They want everything instantly in this house. One "' ought to be a flash of lightning to satisfy the missus. ^ {Exit Minna, r. 2 e. ; Mrs. Salmon on couch has been read- ■^ ing her letter ; Maud enters from conservatory .) ^ Mrs. S. Maud, my dear, your letters. {Gives letter and ' newspaper ) Dr. Pollock, the editor of ' ' The Fragrant ^ Leaflets," has written accepting our invitation. He will, he says in this letter, arrive this morning, (Minna returns here ; Maud goes to window with letter and newspaper, which '£? she opens.) Minna, go upstairs into your master's room and '>; bring down the bust of Dante. < MiN. What, ma'am, the old woman's bust? rn:c- ^ 4 A KETTLE OF FISH. Mrs. S. Old woman ! what do you mean? That's Dante, the famous poet. Mm. I thought it was an old woman because of the nightcap. Mrs. S. Take Wellington from that pedestal and put Dante in his place. MiN. But, ma'am, Wellington is far handsomer than Dante . ( M inn A crosses . ) Mrs. S. (rises). You don't understand. If we were ex- pecting a general I should leave Wellington where he is ; but as we are expecting an editor, everything should express our literary tastes. (£xzi Minna, 2 e. l., w//// dust of Welling- ton frotn pedestal ; Maud comes down, places newspaper on table, c.) Maud, my dear, what's amiss between you and Paul ? You should not keep secrets from your mother. Your father and I have been married nearly five-and-twenty years, and I know he has never kept any secret from me. Maud. No, mamma ? Mrs. S. No, my love, or he would have told me what it was. Now, you know I never approved of your marriage, and I believe that you will discover your mistake. Maud. Mamma, say nothing against Paul. I own that I am dull, and that he seems to think too much of the farm and the horses, but I am sure that Mrs. S. Ah, you should leave this affair to your mother. She would soon set matters straight. Anyhow, as you seem to prefer to keep your own counsel, there must be an end of the question, I suppose. Come, Maud dear, and help me prepare for our distinguished guest. (Exeunt Mrs. Salmon «;2^ Maud, r. i e.) (Enter Minna. 2 E. l. bringing on bust of Dante, which she places on pedestal. ) MiN. There you are, you ugly old thing. Ugh ! (Enter Grayling _/r^w conservatory ; comes down, r. c.) Gray. What's the matter, Minna ? MiN. (going'). Nothing, sir. Gray. Where is Miss Rosa ? MiN. In the garden, sir. Gray. Come here, I want to speak to you. MiN. (l. c). What a nice young man he is ! and isn't he spoons on Miss Rosa ! A KETTLE OF FISH. 5 Gray, {takes catalogtie from his pocket ; opens it, and points to a picture') . Do you know whose portrait that is ? MiN. {astonished) . Why, if it isn't Miss Rosa and our big dog, Lion ! Gray. Hush! Can you keep a secret? {Gives her money.) MiN. ril try, sir. {Archly pocketing the money .) Gray. Now that is the illustrated catalogue of the Art Club Exhibition. The picture which you see on page 32 is simply described as No. 728, " Portrait of a young girl with greyhound at her side," and the name of the artist is Julius Darrel. Having seen this, and recognized as I have done the portrait of Miss Rosa Salmon, you will understand that I have some reasons for coming to this house and staying here the last few days. That reason is, Miss Rosa Salmon. I am going to leave here to-day. '^m. {sadly). Are you, sir ? Gray. The passing mail will bear me off to New York. MiN. {aside). I wish a passing male would bear me off to New York. Gray. Now, Minna, I want you to swear by this bright image of the Goddess of Liberty not to disclose a word of this interview. Mm. Don't say any more, sir. I'll do it ; anything to oblige _y(5'«. Gray. Now, Minna ! Swear to keep my secret ! MiN. I swear. {Theatrical attitude and manner.) Ha, ha, ha! {Laughing.) {Exit MimiA, r. i e.) Gray. Well, to-day is the last of my stay here. When I found the original of No. 728, Miss Rosa Salmon, was a brunette and the lady in the picture, though bearing every possible resemblance in other respects to her, had auburn curls, I thought I was going to experience a disappointment, and that all the trouble and pains I had been to, to gain an introduction to this family circle would be wasted. {Music soft. ) But when I saw and spoke to her, I knew her at once ; there was no disguising her from me. But those eyes, those magic eyes, that I am .so wildly in love with, shall not dazzle me with their enchanting gaze. She must not see me at her feet just yet. By Jove, here she is ! (Grayling retires up into conservatory as Rosa enters.) 6 A KETTLE OF FISH. {Enter RoSA, 2 E. R. ; almost crying with disappointJtient, letter and newspaper in her hand; sits on couch, R. Music ceases as "Rosa. gets to couch.) Rosa, I never was so disappointed in my life. To think that my portrait in the Art Club, which the critic in this newspaper speaks so highly of, is not like me at all ! It is a shame that Mr. Darrell should have presumed to alter the color of my hair just for the sake Qurns to letter in her hand as if to find out what he has written') of producing " an artistic effect." Artistic effect, indeed! {^Rises.) I am as angry as if papa or Paul had found out about the picture being exhibited. I wish mamma would let me tell them. I don't see what reason there can be for any secrecy. {Sees Gray- ling.) Oh, Mr. Grayling, I didn't notice you there {As if going off, R.c. GRAYLING stops her by a gesture.) Gray. Miss Salmon, you know that I am going to Lon- don to-day. Rosa. We live in such seclusion here that the slightest event is known. Gray. When I first came here I told you all about my plans, the treasure I had so long sought that I had come to seek Rosa. Yes, and I said that I thought in divulging so much you were rather foolish. ^ Gray. Foolish ! Why not ? Have you ever listened to the conversation of old people ? What topics bring back the fire of youth to their dimmed eyes ? Why the follies and escap'ades of their younger days ; they are the evergreens in the wreath of memory. Don't you forget, that out of con- sideration for your old age, you will have to do something foolish one of these days. (Laughs.) Rosa. I'm afraid it will be duller here than ever now yOu are going away, and , Gray. With a heavy heart, Miss Rosa. Rosa. But with regard to the treasure you said you came here to seek. ^ Tell me, how is your search progressing ? Gray. Not so well as I could wish. It has not quite come up to my expectations. At first glance it appeared charming. But since, I have discovered that it possesses quite a number Of small defects. Rosa. Oh, then, you won't take it. A KETTLE OF FISH. / Gray, Thaf s the ridiculous part of it ! I'm afraid that I shall, despite its defects. Rosa (crosses) . Despite its defects ! Then you will be sorry for it when it is too late. Gray. Thaf s what I have feared, and yet I am quite in love with it. Rosa. Why, you talk of this treasure, as you call it, just as though it were a woman. (Grayling looks at her ear- nestly. ) Why are you looking at me so strangely ? Gray, {rather taken aback) . Pray excuse me, I've noticed a wonderful likeness in you to a certain picture, No. 728, in the Art Club. Rosa (J)retending indifference). Really. {With affected nonchalance.) How interesting. Gray, {aside) . The sweet little hypocrite. Rosa. Of course it's a mere coincidence, {going's..) but tell me all about it. Gray, {aside) . And such a demure little face with it all. {To her.) You would not admire it. Miss Salmon. The young lady in the picture had the most unbecoming hair I ever saw. . Rosa {quickly) . Of course, fair hair with such eyes must look simply ridiculous. Gray. Excuse me, but what do you know about the pic- ture ? Rosa {aside). Oh dear, how unfortunate!. {To him.) Well, you know — er — Maud — er — told me all about it when she came from town. Anyhow, your suspicion is in equally bad taste. Gray, {aside) . Glides out of it like an eel. Rosa. Mr. Grayling, I think you have done me a great injustice. Gray. Miss Rosa, pray forgive me ; let the assurance of my regret Rosa. I can believe in the assurance, but I can't in the regret. {Enter Mrs. Saimo^ from r. i e.) , Mrs. S. I wish, Rosa dear, you would go and see if Grubb has returned with " The Fragrant Leaflets." Rosa {going off^ . Mr. Grayling, will you come, too ? Gray, {to Rosa) . May I ? 8 A KETTLE OF FISH. (^Exeunt Rosa and Grayling through conservatory.') {Enter Salmon /r^w door, l. 2 e.) Salm. Ha, Hildegard, what are you doing there ? Mrs. S. Have you s^en Grubb anywhere about ? Salm. They told me you had sent him to the village. Mrs. S. He should have been back long ago. {At win- dow.^ Salm. Well, he'll come soon enough ; why are you so impatient? {At table.') Mrs. S. I am impatient and anxious. When one has been waiting so long, and a much-cherished project is on the eve of realisation Salm. What Mrs. S. One that may change the whole course of our lives. Salm. What on earth do you mean, my dear ? Mrs. S. Frederic, I will tell you, though I had planned a little surprise for you. But perhaps I had better prepare you. Salm. Well, fire away ! {Sits on chair R. of table; Mrs. Salmon crosses behind Mr. Salmon, and stands with her arm on his shoulder. ) Mrs. S. You remember the poems you sent me during our engagement ? I read them through the other day, and was touched to the heart with emotion. Salm. Why, you don't mean to say you have kept all that rubbish ? {Rises and crosses, L. ) Mrs. S. Every line you ever wrote ! I have them all in my desk, tied up with pink ribbon. But that is not their proper place, they belong to the world. {Crosses to K. of table.) Salm. But, Hildegard, don't you remember that when I sent some verses to the local papers they were Mrs. S. Declined with thanks. {Sits on chair, R. of table.) Probably the editors never troubled to read your poetry. 'Tis the fate of all unknown authors. But that will all be changed. {Takes prospectus from pocket .) A period- ical called "The Fragrant Leaflets" has just been started in London, the editor is Dr. Pollock. He offers {quoting as though from the prospectus with a rhetorical manner) publi- city and fame to all unknown talent ; he seeks co-operation, not from the ranks of well-known men, but from the mass of unrecognized genius which has till now existed in obscurity. A KETTLE OF FISH. 9 Salm. {laughing). Indeed ! {Sits on couch l. ) Mrs. S. I sent a selection of your poems to the editor, and the result will be seen in the magazine I am expecting every minute. Salm. Hildegard, you are perfectly ridiculous. {Rises, goes to L.) What good could it do you to see the verses in a magazine ? Mrs. S. Oh! that is merely the first step; you will be talked about. Salm. Yes ! and laughed at too ! I hope the editor will send back the trash unprinted. Mrs. S. Pm sure he won't. The Doctor has a heart bursting with poetry. Salm. {aside). Let it burst. {Crosses to R., aloud, severely.) Now, remember, I won't even look at it when it comes. {Crosses l.) Mrs. S. Frederic ! Salm. I won't look at it, I say. {Music begins here.) (Rosa enters from 2, e. r. with card in her hand, Minna following.) Rosa. Just look at this, papa. Mrs. S. Has it come ? {Rises and turns to Rosa, r.c.) Rosa. What, mamma ? Mrs. S. Why, " The Fragrant Leaflets." Rosa. (No. Mrs. Salmon rises and crosses from r. of table to window and then to sofa, L.) But a gentleman wants to see papa, here's his card. {Crosses front of table to c. corner. ) Salm. {takes cardfro7n Rosa ; business with spectacles, &'c.; to Minna). Ask him to come in. {Exit Minna, r. 3 e.) Salm. {reading card). " Palmiro Pescatori, private secre- tary to his Highness Prince Topolski." What a name ! I wonder what he wants me for ? {Crosses R.) {Enter Minna showing in Pescatori, r. 3 e.) MiN. This way, sir! {Erit Minna, r. 3 e.) -Pesc. {following yiii^xfrom back of stage. He is dressed in a long light frock overcoat and carries an opera hat; he advances into room with marked step, bows in an exaggerated manner, first to Mks. Sa'Luoh.) Signora! {To KosA, bow- ing as before.) Signorina. {Bows to Saimoh.) Signer. lO A KETTLE OF FISH. Pescatori. Salmon. Mrs. Salmon. Rosa. Salm. How d'ye do ? Sir, may I ask you what, has procured us this honor ? {Music, which has been piano dur- ing Pesca tori's ejttrance, ceases here. ) Pesc. 1 beg {appropriate gestures) a tousand pardons if I make a mistake in the language. Salm. {cordially'). Oh, we shall understand each othen never fear. Mrs. S. But, unfortunately, we do not speak Italian. Pesc. Oh, signora, that makes nothing. {Gesture) I speak a little English, and when I want for a word I can help my- self out. I was twenty-five years ballet-master at the Royal Opera ; and when a word sticks in my stupid head {gesture) or on my stupid tongue {gesture), I speak it with my hand. For instance! When I wish to say, " Ti voglio bene,'" I do so. {Gesture, for '■'■to love.''') Rosa. Ah, that means, " I love you !" Pesc. Bravo ! When I wish to say " Sposare," I do so. ( Gesture of putting on wedding ring. ) Mrs. S. Marriage. Thafs very plain ! Pesc. "Divorzio!" I do so. {Gesture of throwing off wedding ring. ) Salm. Aha ! Divorce ! That's very plain, too. There's a good deal that's very plain about the ballet. Oh, I adore the ballet. Mrs. S. Frederic ! Salm. Merely from a calisthenic point of view, my dear. Now, signor, there was Pepita ! {Enthusiastically.) Ah! what a dancer she was. Pesc. {shocked) . Oh ! oh ! oh ! signor, do not say so. {Gesture.) You must see our prima ballerina in Milano, La Braggazzetta. Oh, what an artista ! With Pepita art was small, so {gesture) ; the newspaper puffs were great {gesture, stretching arms out), so. With La Braggazzetta, che puffs were so {gesture suggestive of smallness), but the art {holding his hat high above his head), so. {Conscious of his looking ridiculous and with exaggerated bow. ) Ladies, I beg your pardon. Ma ! When I speak of art I always lose my head. {Pushing away the chair.) Mrs. S. Keep the chair and sit down, sit down. A KETTLE OF FISH. II Pesc. You are so kind. (^Offers chair to all in turn and finally sits R. ; Mr. Salmon seated chair R, of table; Rosa seated on sofa L. with Mrs. Salmon.) Salm. You are Prince {business with card) Top — Top — polski's secretary ? Pesc. Si, signer, and I come to you at his command with a most humble inquiry. {Bows.) Salm. Well, sir, inquire. ' Pesc. His Highness is a fool {gesture) on the' subject of art. At the Art Club he saw a painting of a lovely young lady with a big, immense {gesture) dog. Rosa (/^ Mrs. Salmon). Mamma! {Frightened.) Mrs. S. {to Kosa). Hush, dear! Pesc. " Palmiro," he says to me, " I must know what is that young lady's name and where she lives. But the artist he give no information, so go, seek, Palmiro " ; {in the tone of a sportsman to his dog) seek, avanti ; go seek, Palmiro! Salm. Well, did you find the original ? Pesc. Ah, Dio mio, signor, that was not so easy ! Ma ! what a head I have. I seek here, I seek there {gesture), and finalmente, I see right in the corner of the picture a date, Nahant, 1883. {Gesture; draws figures itt the air .) What a head I have. I go there {gesture) to Nahant. I ask the big {gesture) \ I ask the little {gesture), and Mrs. S. {anxiously). And you found out the young lady's name ? Pesc. Ah, no, signora, but I find out that the young lady who was pictured was the daughter of some one in this place. Salm. What ? In this place ? Why, you were at Nahant last summer. Mrs. S. {sarcastically). My dear Frederic, can you imagine "i Rosa {copying her mother''s tone) . Perhaps papa thinks that I Pesc. Oh non, the signorina is not the original {rises and bows to Rosa) — the lady of the picture had quite other hair — red gold hair and round, so. {Gesture suggestive of curls.) Rosa. You mean curls. Pesc. Si, signorina, grizia tan to. Salm. Indeed, then it can't be my married daughter either. \ 12 A KETTLE OF FISH. Mrs. S. Of course not! Pesc. Oh, that's bad. {Sinks into chair .^ Salm. Excuse me, it's very good. It wouldn't do for me to have my daughters sitting as models. We couldn't think of allowing such a thing, could we, Hildegard ? Pesc. Ma, Dio mio. What shall I do ? {Gesture to head. ) Salm. Ask in the neighborhood. Our neighbor, Mr. Waghorn, has a red-haired daughter, I believe. {Rises. y Pesc. Da vero ? {Rises quickly.) Oh, signor, you take a stone from my heart. {Gesture.) I go, signor, " slante pede," to the neighbor. {Goes up, comes down.) His name is i* Salm. Waghorn. {Business of blowing horn.) Pesc. Ah, capisco! {Gesture imitating Mr. Salmon.) Ah ! I understand ! Adio, signor, complimente, signore. {Quick exit, c, through conservatory, 3 E. R. ; business of bowing, &^c.) Salm. {up stage, looking after Pescatori). What a curiosity ! Do you know, my dear, {comes down) he gave me quite a turn. If I thought that either of you girls had been foolish enough to have your portraits exhibited, I would — well, you know how I hate publicity. {Goes to window.) Rosa {aside). Mamma, what a pity it is we can't tell him. Mrs. S. {aside). Don't say another word about it, you great baby. Rosa {aside) . Pretty good for a baby to have a prince in love with her portrait ! Salm. {has been looking out of window, draws back). Now — how annoying ! Mrs. S. (l. of table). What's the matter ? Salm. {coming down l.). Why this infernal nonsense about "The Fragrant Leaflets" keeps running in my head. {Pause.) Hildegard, which of my — of my poems did you send ? Mrs. S. The short " Sonnets for a Lady's Album — Son- nets to the Moonlight." Salm. H'm ! h'm ! Well, they are not so bad, especially that one about the moon on the woodland cottage. That was very much admired. {Breaking out.) I wish this rub- bish would come ! This terrible anxiety's making me quite nervous . ( Goes up stage. ) A KETTLE OF FISH. I3 {Enter Grayling, r. 3 e., andyiKon, r. 2 e.) Gray. Mr. Salmon, I thought of going up by the 1.50. Salm- Oh, don't go before luncheon, go by the evening mail. Maud. Papa considers this place a perfect Paradise. Rosa. But I should think that after New York Mrs. S. Ah, New York! Salm. Ah, New York! The old tune, ha, ha! The ladies are very fond of town life and are always worrying me to take a house in New York. Mrs. S. This place is so dull — a regular owl's roost! One rusts here. Salm. Look at me ! I've lived for twenty years in this " owl's roost." Am I rusty ? I have had my time in town, and now I've settled down to end my days in peace. Rosa. Yes ; but, papa, we haven't had our time in town. Salm. That doesn't matter; I've had mine. Mrs. S. That's all very well, when a man has no genius 5 but you Salm. That's another of my wife's weak points. She wants me to be somebody. As if it wasn't enough when a man can say to himself: I've always been a plain, practical man ; I've never done anything particularly foolish in my life. Gray. So much the worse. Salm. Why so ? Gray. Because you've got it to do. Salm. Excuse me. Gray. Excuse tne, sir. I don't intend to be rude, biit I have a fimi belief that all men commit some act of folly in their lives ; some great folly, and that there is no exception to the rule. Mrs. S. There must be some. {Crosses to G^k^'UXiG.^ Gray. Madam, I think not. I believe it is written in the Book of Fate that to each of us comes the hour in which we forget all that experience has taught us, and lay our offering at Folly's feet. {Turns, r. ; Mrs. Salmon comes to r. of table.') Rosa {roguishly) . And may I ask if you yourself have ? Gray. I, Miss Rosa ? Oh, I propitiate the goddess by half-a-dozen little offerings daily. 14 A KETTLE OF FISH. Salm. (l.c). Oh, weU, I'm safely through my years of folly. I should like to see what would make me commit one foolish act ! (JEnter Minna, through conservatory, on Mr. Salmon's last Ime, with magazine.^ Minn. Here it is, ma'am, " The Fragrant Leaflets." Salm. Really. (Mr. Salmon — business — getting excited.) Mrs. S. {rushes to Minna and seizes book). At last! Frederic ! At last ! Now we shall know. {Exit Minna.) Salm. (l. ; nervous). Yes, now we shall know. It's really too stupid, but I am quite curious Mrs. S. Frederic ! You — you are in it ! {Falls on his neck, c, front of table, and then crosses.) Salm. Is it possible ? {G-rayiaug crosses to -l.) Mrs. S. Look, children. Your father is in print. (i?Yi.. Pollock, r. i e. GRAp:.iNG ««^ Pescatori comedown c.) Gray. And so your Prince is very anxious to find the original of No. 728? Pesc. Oh, signor, he is one madman for the original of the picture. Gray. You don't say so ? Pesc. He telegraph me always, " Seek, Palmiro." {Ges- tures.) Gray, {aside). I do not like this love-sick Prince. {Aloud.) Indeed ! Pesc. Madonna! I seek, {gesture) but I find nothing. ( Gesture of despair. ) A KETTLE OF FISH. 21 Gray. Thank goodness ! Pesc. I've knocked at every door {gesture) in this place. Ma niente ! One has no daughter, one has seven, but they were not at Nahant, and another has a daughter so high. {Gesture, moves infant in his arms.) Corpo di Bacco ! Ma finalmente ! I found a young lady here ! Gray. The original ? Pesc. Non — ma, that's nothing. I was so glad. Oh, she was so lovely; so very, very lovely; so sapette — what shall I say ? — sapette, una bella regazza, con occhi {shows eyes) cosi grandi, una bocchina, {shows mouth) cosi piccola ed orrechi, {shows ears) — ebbene, una bellezza, come non vide mai ! Gray, {smiling). Very good. Proceed. Pesc. Ah, signer, you laugh because my stupid heart runs away with my silly head ! Gray. Yes, I know all about the hot Italian blood. Pesc. Si, signer — hot blood. In an English heart it goes tick-tack, tick-tack, tick-tack. {Slowly.) But Italian hearts go tick-tack, tick-tack, tick-tack. {Very quickly .) Gray. Very good ; but why have you returned ? Pesc. I want to speak to her again. Gray, {aside). Then he can't be got out of the way too quickly. Pesc. I wish to see the young lady. Gray, {quickly) . You'll do nothing of the kind — I mean I shouldn't advise you to. The affair's very simple. They told you at Nahant that the young lady came from here? Pesc. Si, signor. Gray. Very well ; now you cannot find her here? Pesc. Si, signor. Gray. Then the conclusion is simply that when she left Nahant she went somewhere else. So you should not have asked where she came from, but where she went to. Pesc. Ma si, signor. Oh ! oh ! oh ! I never thought of that. {Crosses.) Gray, {imitating hiin). That's because in your Italian head the ideas go tick-tack, tick-tack, tick-tack {slowly) ; while in an English head they go tick-tack, tick-tack, tick» tack. ( Very quickly. ) Pesc. {laughing). E vero, signor ! Evero! 22 A KETTLE OF FISH. Gray. So you had better go to Nahant at once. It is nearly one now. Pesc . I will make my adieux to the ladies . ( Tries to cross to R.) Gray. You'll have no time, as the express leaves at 1.50. Here, take your hat ; ban voyage. (^Pushes him up.) Pesc. But — Gray. The deuce ! Too late ! {Enter Rosa, r. 2 e.) Rosa. Ah, signor, have you returned? Gray. Pray don't detain Signor Pescatori ; he's just try- ing to catch a train. Rosa. Are you going back to Nahant, still looking for the original of No. 728 ? Pesc. Si, signorina, if you could assist me — Rosa, The Prince seems impatient — Gray. Miss Rosa, I think your mamma was calling for you. Rosa. Mamma? Please excuse me, I will return di- rectly. (^Exit, R. 2 E.) Gray, {aside). Thank Heaven. {To Pescatori) You're saved. Go to the station at once, and you may catch the train — it leaves at 1.30. Pesc. Madonna ! Then I must make haste. A rivederci, Signor ! I telegraph to the Prince that I am on the right track. Oh, what a head I have! A rivederci, Signor — a rivederci. {Exit, R, 3 E.) Gray. At last. It was high time. And I have fallen in love with such a good-for-nothing, darling little witch ! And yet I'lu sure her coquetry is only an additional charm ; to vie at all events. The pursuit of this Prince will, I fear, dazzle her till, like a child staring at the sun, when she turns to me she will see nothing but a black speck. And not such a bad speck either, if she would only be content without a title — {Enter Rosa and M.ai!T>, r. i 'E., followed by Paul.) Rosa. Well, is the Signor gone ? Gray. Yes, I could not detain him. Rosa. Indeed, you seemed very anxious to get rid of him, and I am exceedingly annoyed at your interference. Gray. But, Miss Rosa — Rosa. Don't speak tome, {Tttrns upstage away from him.^ A KETTLE OF FISH. 2$ {Enter Mrs. Salmon.) Mrs S. I am glad to find you here. I want your aid. Maud. What is it, mamma .? Mrs. S. I reckon upon your assistance as well, Mr. Grayling. Where' s your father ? Maud. In his study, writing. TvIrs, S. {crossing to L. i E.). I hope he will not begin working himself too much. (^Knocking at door. ) Frederic, do leave off one minute. {^Enter Salmon, MS. in hand, and a pen in his mouth ; he crosses to c. of stage. ^ Salm. What do you want, dear ? F m sorry you dis- turbed me. I had just got an original idea. Rosa {saucily^. Really, papa ? An original idea ? Whose ? Mrs. S. Frederic, I have been talking to the Doctor, and he has convinced me that your genius is cramped here — that it needs the stimulus of a great city — in fact, that we must go to New York. Salm. {weakly^. Hildegard! Mrs. S. It is necessary. A man who works for the public should live in public. Gray. I know of some excellent rooms to be let opposite mine. AUow me to assist you by taking the apartments for you. Paul {to Maud). Shall we go as well if the governor says yes ? Salm. Well, since you all seem so determined, and the Doctor so strongly recommends it, I won't hold out. F m so fond of country life and quiet myself — But mind, it must be for a few weeks only. Mrs. S. Then you consent ! {Crosses to R. i E. ; rttshes towards door whence Dr. Pollock made his exit.^ Come in, Doctor, you can read the . poems later on. It' s all settled. {Enter Dr. Pollock ; he crosses to c. and faces Mr. Salmon.) Dr. P. Indeed! {Aside.') F m absolutely starving ! Mrs. S. We are going for a time to New York. {Soft music.) 24 A KETTLE OF FISH. Dr. p. I congratulate you. (^Stands on chair by table, C.) Ladies and Gentlemen, — This marks an epoch in modern literature, and calls for a few remarks from me. Ladies and gentlemen, could Guttenburg, when he invented the art of printing, have known that — {^Enter Minna, 3 e. r.) MiN. Luncheon's on the table ! (^Stays at door, holding it open.^ Dr. p. At last! Permit me, Mrs. Partridge — I beg your pardon, Mrs. Salmon, of course. (^Bursting with joy at the announcement of luncheon, makes an exaggerated jump from the chair, rushes tip, then down to Mrs. Salmon, catches hold of her, and makes for r. 3 E. ; Paul and MAXMi follow, and Grayling and Rosa going last ; Minna at door. Bus- iness, Rosa and Grayling ; Grayling offers his artn to Rosa ; she coquettishly refuses, and takes her father'^ s arm in an affectionate manner.') Curtain. {Not too quick, as music swells.") ACT IL Scene. — Handsomely furnished room; gas full on at commencement of Act; Minna discovered as the curtain goes up ; she is singing the Nature Waltz fro?n ' ' The Merry War.'''' The micsic, which takes tip curtain, continues until cue marked to stop same. Min. {dancing before glass r., and trying a wreath of flowers in her hair) . Oh, what a lovely waltz ! I hope they'll play it to-night. Those flowers will look lovely. I took them from Miss Rosie's garden hat. What can it matter whether they stay in her wardrobe, or go to the ball with me ! I wonder whether the missus will let me go. I do love dancing, and these New York men dance so well — {murmuring air) — smoothly — just one turn more. {Danc- itig and singing. Enter Pescatori, L.. c, back ; he sees her dancing, becomes enthusiastic, and dances till at end of song, she turns and falls into his arms; ballet pose; jumping away from him.) Oh ! what do you want ? {Music ceases here.) A KETTLE OF FISH. 2$ Pesc. Oh ! I beg pardon, but- if I see a pretty girl dance so, tra-la-la, my feet go tra-la-la, so, too. MiN. Oh, you are too old for such tra-la-la rubbish. Pesc. Too old ! Oh, oh ! Vm not old yet ; I — (^Enter Mrs. Salmon; r. i. e; Minna retires, c. back.^ Mrs. S. Here so soon, signor? Pesc. Signora, I received your little letter, and — Mrs. S. (r. to Minna) . Go to Miss Rosa, and tell her I wish to see her at once. {Exit Minna, 2 e. r.) I pre- sume you have just returned from Nahant ? Pesc. Si, signora ; but I have found out nothing. Mrs. S. I wrote to you that I might, perhaps, furnish you with a clue to the original of the portrait No. 728. Pesc. Oh, signora ! if you can do that — Mrs. S. Perhaps I may, but I am not quite certain at present. I should like to talk over this matter with you in private. Pesc. Oh, signora ! you have my whole heart. {Ges- ture.^ Look through it. What would you know? Mrs. S. Then, if you would follow me. {Going.^ Pesc. Ma si, with much pleasure. {As soon as her back is turned, he recommences waltz step. ) Mrs. S. {turning). You spoke. Pesc. {stopping suddenly). Prego, signora, prego. {Business repeated', exeunt, R. IE.) {Enter Minna, 2 e. r., with a cloak over her arm and a pair of satin shoes in her hand. ) Min. {speaking off. ) Very well, miss. PU see to it. {Enter Grayling, c. from l.) Gray. Minna, wasn't Signor Pescatori here just now? Min. The old Italian? Yes. Gray. What is he doing here? Min. I don't know ; he's with old missus now. He danced with me and called it tra-la-la-ing. {Places herself in ballet pose with shoes over her liead. ) Gray, {pointing to shoes) . What have you got there ? Min. {latighitig) . Shoes ! W^hy those are Miss Rosie's shoes. Gray. Ah ! Indeed ! What charming shoes. Will you tell Miss Rosa I should like to see her ! Min. Yes, sir. I'll tell her at once. 26 A KETTLE OF FISH. Gray. Very good. {Giving money .^ Add this to youi collection of coins. (^As he gives money he touches the shoe.y They really are sweet little shoes. MiN. Well, I declare. (^Goes off laughing, R. 2 E.) Gray. I wonder if she's laughing at me. Well, Pm ridiC' ulously in love with this little coquette, and whafs more ab^ surd, I've no idea what her views on the subject are. I have not had a minute alone with her since she's been in New York. I do nothing but stand at my window and look over at hers. Now that this meddling Italian has come back 1 must see Rosa, and declare myself before he has a chance to meet her. {Enter Rosa, r. 2. e., back.^ Rosa. How are you, Mr. Grayling? Gray. I've come to beg a few minutes serious conversa^ tion with you. Rosa. Well, I ought to go to mamma at once, but — Gray. I should be extremely obliged if you would give me the preference. I've been seeking this interview for the last two days. Rosa {aside'). So have I. Gray. I have something to tell you that you alone must hear. Rosa. Indeed ! {Aside.) Now he'll find out if he can get the treasure he wanted. Gray. Well, then, my dear Miss Rosa — Rosa. Apropos, do you know that Signor Pescatori has returned ? Gray. Indeed! {Aside.) I wish I had sent him to Eu- rope. Rosa. Perhaps you know Prince Topolski? Gray. I only know he is an enthusiastic sportsman, and thinks of nothing but dogs and horses. But to return to my — Rosa. One moment ; can you tell me what position the wife of a prince would hold at Court ? Gray. Are you so deeply interested in the Prince ? Rosa. Can't you understand my interest ? In these prosaic days the whole story sounds like a fairy tale. The Prince falls in" love with a girl's picture. He knows nothing ot the girl, but he loves her. He does not try to find out who she is, or what her defects are. He sends out his messenger, and when the lucky girl is found — A • KETTLE OF FISH. 2/ Gray. Lucky ! Then you think the young lady is fortunate ? Rosa. To be the wife of a millionaire prince, certainly. Gray. But if you know nothing more of this man than his pedigree and rent-roll, it seems to me that the chief element of happiness is wanting. Rosa. That is — Gray, {with feeling) . That without which there can be no true happiness — Love. Rosa, (laughing) . Oh, Love ! — excuse me, I know nothing whatever about it. I've read a great deal about it, and it's very charming in novels and plays. But what little I've seen in real life appeared utterly nonsensical. Gray. But, Miss Rosa — Rosa. I think gentlemen are apt to set too high a value on their love. They take things too easily. They merely say, I love you, and expect a woman to give up home and friends, and throw herself at their feet. (^Quietly.) But you had some- thing to say to me ? Gray. I! — I! Rosa {impatiently) . You said so just now. Gray, {bitterly) . Oh, yes ! But never mind that, Miss Rosa ; I have no more to say. Rosa {piqued). Oh, indeed! then I may go, I presume! Gray. Oh, no — Rosa. Oh, don't apologize. If you were rude I've no doubt it was my fault. I'll take care it sha'n't occur again. {Going. ) Gray. I beg you not to leave me now. You must hear me. Rosa. Excuse me, sir, I neither must nor will hear you, not now, nor at any time. Adieu. {Exii, R. i E.) Gray. Well, that's pretty plain ! But I need not be sur- prised that she prefers a title and desires riches. It's quite natural, human nature all over. {Suddenly bursting out. ) No, by Jove, it's not natural to encourage a poor fellow till he be- lieves her an angel, and then to interrupt him with questions on court etiquette and rent-rolls is inhuman ! How infernally hard it is to be in love, and yet retain one's common-sense. {Enter Mrs. Salmon, r. i e.) Mrs. S. I've only just heard that you called. Gray. I won't detain you, madam. I hear you have an- other visitor — Signor Pescatori. ( Going. ) Mrs. S. Oh, he's gone. Please don't go. I've been wish- ing for a chance to tell you how much we're indebted to you. 28 A KETTLE OF FISH. Gray. But, madam — Mrs. S. I really mean it. (Si^s on settee, L. c.) Had it not been for you, we should never have come to New York. Gray. And may I hope that New York life fulfils your expectations ? Mrs. S. To speak plainly — not quite. Gray. Indeed ! (^Enter Minna, r. 2 e., with two candelabra unlig/ited, which she places on t/iantelpiece ; she lays some letters, ^r^c, on table, R.c.) Mrs. S. {continuijig) . It's a great advantage, as far as my husband's literary work is concerned. But I am not accus- tomed to being so much alone. My daughter and her husband are out the entire day. My husband never gets up till midday, and no wonder, for he insists on working all night with the Doctor. Gray. I've often noticed from my window opposite that his lamp is burning till a very late hour MiN. Good gracious, the lamp ! Mrs. S. What's the matter? MiN. I took master's lamp to be repaired yesterday morning, and I've forgotten to bring it back. Mrs. S. Then, Minna, your forgetfulness must have wasted your master's whole evening. MiN. I'm so sorry, ma'am. I'll go for it at once. {Exit, l.c. ) Mrs. S. That's the reason he's been cross this morninjr — he said nothing, but I could see that there was something wrong. {Enter Mr. Salmon, a pen behind each ear and one in his hand; Grayling, l. 2 e. ; moves at back to r.) Salm. Hildegard, is the post come in yet? Oh, how d'ye do. Grayling? Mrs. S. (going to table). Here it is, dear ! (Soothingly.) Do you still feel put out, dear? Salm. Put out ! Of course I'm put out. The fact is I'm overworked, this writing wearies me. (Crosses to L.c.) Mrs. S. But you were not writing last night. Salm. Yes, I was, on my society novel. (Sits on settee. ) Do you know, sir, it's strange, but I do my best work at night. When all around is still, the household sleeps, I go on adding chapter to chapter. A KETTLE OF FISH. 29 Gray. By the light of your solitary taper, like Tasso in his dungeon. Salm. Taper ! No, I always use a reading-lamp. Mrs. S. Frederic, did you use a lamp last night ? Salm. Of course I did ! Why not ? {Rises atid crosses, r.) Mrs. S. Frederic! (^Looks at hitn sternly.^ Gray, (c., behind iable^. That lamp's going to explode. {Exit, L. c.) Salm. Why, what's the matter with you ? Mrs. S. Your lamp was sent to be repaired two days ago. Salm. {sinking in chair, R.). Great heavens ! Mrs. S. Then you've been deceiving me. Oh, how could you ? {Sits l. c. on settee and cries.) Salm. But, my darling, let me explain. Mrs. S. Yes, you must explain where you've been all night ! I don't believe last night was the first that — Salm. My darling, the Doctor — Mrs. S. Oh, this is cniel. Every evening I lit your lamp and kept the whole house quiet for fear of disturbing 3'ou. In the middle of the night, as I lay awake, I pictured )'ou, steadily pursuing the path of fame, and toiling in your room, and you were not there. Frederic {Rises and goes to him.), where were j-ou? Salm. I was out with the Doctor. Why on earth can't you listen to me ? Mrs. S. I utterly refiise to listen to you. {Crosses, l.) {Enter Dr. Pollock, l. c.) Dr. p. May I come in? Ah, at work as usual ! Salm. Yes, hard at it. {Aside to Dr. Pollock.) Thank goodness you've come, (r.) Mrs. S. You're just in time. Doctor, (l.) Salm. My wife won't believe — Mrs. S. I've made a wonderful discovery. Dr. p. I don't quite understand, (c.) Salm. My lamp was being repaired last night. {Aside to Dr. Pollock.) Mrs. S. I want to know what you call literary activity? Dr. P. {aside; to Mr. Salmon). Then she knows all? Mrs. S. Where were you and my husband last night? Dr. p. {innocently). Madam, I don't understand your excitement. We were at work. 30 A KETTLE OF FISH. Mrs. S. By the light of his reading-lamp, eh? Dr. p. Madam, do you imagine that a poet's work is done entirely at the desk ? That is the least and lightest part of his labors. He must make studies of real life, collect and arrange types of character. Mrs. S. But — at night. Dr. p. Certainly at night ; your husband is planning a society novel, how can he draw character without seeing it, how depict crime without studjdng it? Salm. You see, darling, you see. Dr. p. The dark side of life cannot be observed by day, look at Dickens. Salm. Yes, darling, look at Dickens, another one of us. Dr. p. Disguised as a sailor he wandered through the slums of London, never came home for days. Salm. For days — Mrs. S. Good gracious ! Salm. And do you think he asked his wife's permission? Mrs. S. {crossing K.'). But, Frederic, think of your health. There must be a good deal of drinking in such resorts and — Dr. p. O ! I look after him, madam. I drink for both, and he keeps his head clear, I carouse — he takes notes. Mrs. S. But why not have told me before ? Why deceive me? Dr. p. a true poet loves mystery, Salm. I didn't wish to make you anxious, dearest — Dr. p. Yes, yes, that was ever his first thought. Salm. Now, darling, be reasonable. Mrs. S. Yes, but — Salm. It's all over now. Pve collected enough material, and now I will stay at home, it's all right now, Hildy dear. Mrs. S. I begin to think it would have been better if we had never come to New York. Salm. There, there, dear ! Now go and dry your eyes. {Exit Mrs. Salmon, r. i e. ; business with Salmon be- fore Mrs. S. exits.') Salm. (r.) Doctor, that was rather an unpleasant ex- perience ? Dr. p. (l.) And that is not our only misfortune ! Salm. Why, what's the matter? Dr. p. I've just received a note from the printer telling me that unless his bill is paid, the ' ' Fragrant Leaflets " must stop. A KETTLE OF PISH. 31 That this should have happened just now, when each number has an increasing circulation, is too bad. Your Epic was to have appeared in the next number. Salm. Well, what's to be done? Dr. p. It's very simple — the magazine must stop. Salm. And my great Epic ? Dr. p. You must get another publisher for it. Salm. No, no ; that won't do at all. How much do you want? Dr. p. a trifle, hardly worth mentioning, a miserable little three hundred dollars. Salm. Three hundred dollars ! ( Crosses l.) Well, well, you shall have the money. (Dr. Pollock crosses to r. corner, sinks into chair, R, ; business S) Dr. p. No, sir, never. I will not touch it. Salm. Nonsense, it's hardly worth talking about. The " Fragrant Leaflets " must not stop, if only for my wife's sake. She's so delighted when she sees anything of mine in print. Dr. p. (rises, and going c). Sir, you've a great heart. (^Seizes Mr. Salmon's hand .) Salm. Well, and on my own account I want to make a hit soon ; but do you know. Doctor, Pm afraid novel-writing is not my strong point. Dr. p. What makes you think that? Salm. I find it so hard to work ouX my plots. Collecting material is pleasant enough, eh ! so I think that the drama — By the way, how's my tragedy getting on? Dr. p. I will print some scenes from " Charles the First " in the next number of the magazine. You'll see what a sen- sation it will make. The very managers who refused to look at the piece now will beg you to let them produce it. Salm. What can the managers have to do with their time ? Dr. p. Talking about theatres reminds me you've been wishing some time to go behind the scenes, in order to study the stage practically. Salm. Yes, yes ; of course, when a man is writing plays. Dr. p. Well, you can go on the stage of the opera to- night. Salm. How can you manage that? Dr. P. A grand (5a/ ^wj-^?^/ takes place; go as Sophocles, he wrote plays as you do ; the ballet is sure to be well repre- sented there, and you can see for yourself the requirements of stage characters. 32 A KETTLE OF FISH. Salm. Sophocles and the ballet? Strange mixture, eh, Doctor? Dr. p. You are wrong there. The ancient Greeks were great admirers of beauty, if somewhat unadorned. Salm. But how about /«/ dress? Dr p. The costumer who sells the tickets will provide the dress. Salm. Splendid — but my wife. Dr. p. You'd better have a headache and go to your room, and while I engage your wife in conversation you can get away. Salm. Doctor, you are, mdeed, a friend. Hush ! here come the children. (^Exeunt Dr. Pollock atid Mr. Salmon. L. 2 E. Busmess. Enter 'Pxvz. and MAXsnift evening dress, L. c.) Maud {speaking off^. Thank goodness, we're at home again, I'm tired to death. {Taking off cloak and sits on settee, L. c. Paul takes cloak to chair. ^ Paul. How"s that, dear, we're not doing too much? Maud. What do you call to-day's dissipation? A drive in the park. Lunch at Delmonico's. A matinee at the Lyceum. Dinner at the Brunswick. Pm completely tired out. Paul. Well, Maud dear, go and lie down for half an hour, and then you'll be quite fresh for the theatre. Maud. Must we go to the theatre to-night? Paul. Yes, dear, we must go, Pve taken a box. Miss Fotheringay is going to appear in two of her best parts. They gave me this bill at the theatre. {Producing play-bill.^ Fotheringay plays the "• Dumb Girl," and " Come Here." In the first piece she doesn't speak a word, and the other is a monologue, and she talks for half an hour without stopping, and so makes up for lost time. That will be very interesting. Maud. I daresay it will, Paul, but Pm really too tired to go. Can't we spend one evening quietly at home ? Paul, My dear Maud, we didn't come to New York to spend our evenings quietly at home, {Places billon sofa.^ Maud, Paul, I hardly know you now. Since we've been here you've become so gay — Paul. Yes, darling, it's the New York air — Maud. But you are overdoing it. Come, sit down here, while I lecture you. Paul. Oh, dear. {He sits l. of settee.) A KETTLE OF FISH. 33 {Enter Mr. Salmon an^ Dr. Pollock, l. 2 e.) Salm. (l., giving cheque). There, that will satisfy the printer, Doctor. I'm going to have some new visiting cards printed. What would you advise me to put under my name? "Dramatic Poet," or "Author," or — Dr. p. ril tell you what to put — " Man of Letters " ; it sounds well, and doesn't mean much. {Crosses, R.) V AMI. {coming forward). Ah, guv'nor, how are you? I'm afraid you're overworking yourself, you look rather seedy. Why not go to the theatre ? At Niblo's they are playing ' ' The Stranger." It would be a pleasant change, and liven you up a bit. Salm. No ! no ! Pm not working at present ; I've got such an awful headache. Oh! oh! {Groans.) Such a hammering in my head. I shall go mad. Maud. Poor, dear papa ! {Rises and goes to him.) Salm. Don't pity me ; go and fetch your mother. Maud. I will ; and I'll go and fetch some eau-de-Cologne for your head. {Exit Maud, r. i e. ; Dr. Pollock crosses-back, r.) Paul. I'm awfully sorry for your head. Salm. Hush ! don't condemn me unheard. It's only a little stratagem, so that I can get out unnoticed to-night. Paul. But, sir ! Salm. What do you mean by " But sir " ? Dickens did it. They all do it now. Paul (c). And where are you going ? Salm. (l.). Oh, it's innocent enough ; the Doctor and I are going — Dr. p. To a bal masque ?l\. the opera house. Salm. I'm going as Sophocles, and you can stay at home and look after your mother-in-law. Paul {sternly). No, I can't do it. Salm. My dear Paul ! Paul. I don't think it right, and I will not help you — on the contrary, I'll — Salm. You'll betray me ! Paul. No sir, I'll go with you. Salm. What ? Paul. Calm yourself. I' 11 go with you. Why deprive me of such a piece of fun ? Don' t you agree with me. Doctor ? I dare say you can manage to take me too. 34 A KETTLE OF FISH. Dr. p. You can take my place if you like. I was going as a conspirator. Paul. A conspirator! that's just in my line! Pm a first-class conspirator. I believe it requires the cloak held so, and a slouch hat, and — (^Gesticulates, till Mrs. Salmon enters, then stops suddenly. Enter Mrs. S., r. i e. Paul darts up, R.) Dr. p. He' s a born conspirator. Mrs. S. My dear Frederic, Maud just told me {crossing L.) that you have a terrible headache. Salm. (l.). Of course, Pve got a headache. I always have when P m put out. Mrs. S. But, Frederic, it's not my fault. Salm. Who said it was ? {Groaning.^ Oh! oh! this hammering in my head. {Enter Minna, r. 2 e., with two ha?idkerchiefs and eau- de-Cologne, which she puts on table, c, tfien exit.^ Mrs. S. Well, try and bear it. Pll put some eau-de- Cologne on this handkerchief for you. Salm. That won' t do me any good. Paul {up stage ; has been gesticulating ; suddenly breaks out very lotid) . Oh ! oh ! oh ! Mrs. S. Why, what's the matter with you ? Have you a headache ? Paul. Yes, ever since dinner, and it's growing worse every minute. Salm. Oh, such pains at the back of my head ! Oh ! oh ! Paul. Mine' s in front. Oh ! oh ! Mrs. S. {with bandage'). Let me put this on. Salm. Oh, no, that won' t do me any good. {She puts it on.') Dr. p. {who has been arranging a band for Paul). Let me advise you to go to your room, and rest quietly for an hour or two. Mrs. S. Yes, Frederic, do try it. Salm. I will. Rest always does me good. Paul. And P 11 go with you, you can let me have the arm-chair. Oh ! oh ! Salm. Well, come along, but no one else must come near us. You hear, Hildegard, no one must disturb us. {Going.) Oh ! oh ! oh ! What pain. {Exit, L. 2 E., with Paul.J A KETTLE OF FISH. 35 Mrs. S. It' s very strange. I never remember Frederic having such a headache suddenly. I believe I ought to sit by him and bathe his head. (^Going, L.) Dr. p. (l. stopping her). One moment, madam. I have a little surprise for you. Mrs. S. I've had too many little surprises to-day. Dr. p. But it's something pleasant this time. The " Rondels of a Fiance " are published. All the booksellers will have them to-morrow. Here is a specimen copy. (^Taking out book elegantly bound.) Mrs. S. How good of you, my dear Doctor ; my hus- band must know nothing of this. Dr. p. Not a syllable. Mrs. S. How charming the binding is — Dr. p. Yes, it costs a little more than I expected. Mrs S. Oh, I don't mind the cost. (Aside.) How ex- quisite it is to be an author's wife. (Reads the title page.) " Rondels of a Fiance." (Crosses, r.) Dr. p. Madam, an instinct warns me that you would be alone : alone with that volume. I will take my leave ! (Going.) Mrs. S. Many, many thanks, my dear Doctor, I hope- you will take care that the book is well reviewed and criti cised. Dr. p. Criticised! Madam, pray don't mention critics to me. There's a clique. These men glance through a book, and write, and write, and write, Heaven knows what. We are going to change all that. The authors shall criticise their own works. Then nobody will be dissatisfied. (Business and exit quickly, L. C.) Mrs. S. How lovely they look in print, and how many (crossing, R . ) fond recollections these lines awaken. (Reads. ) "Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge with mine." Lovely. This is the one written on our meeting one evening when he kissed me for the first time. (Reads. Enter Minna, l. c, with a lighted lamp, which she places on table.) What a surprise for Frederic to-morrow morning. I' 11 lay it on his plate at breakfast. How delighted he' 11 be. MiN. (hesitating). I want to ask you, ma'am — Mrs. S. (r.). Well. Mm. (l.). I've been asked to a servant's ball to-night next door, and — and I want to know if you will let me go. ^6 A KETTLE OF FISH. {^Enter Rosa, r. 2. e. ; she looks at the books on the table.') Mrs. S. Minna, what are you thinking of to-day, when your master is so ill? If anything happened and I wanted to send for the doctor — MiN. But, ma'am — Mrs. S. You can't go. Some other night perhaps. {^Sits chair R.) MiN. But some other night there won't be a ball. {Exit, L. c.) Mrs. S. What are you doing, Rosa? Rosa (c, back of table). I was looking for something to read. {Shows book.) {Enter Maud, r. 2 e., crosses at back to l.) Maud. Where is Paul? {A letter open in her hand.) Mrs. S. He's in there with papa. {Movement for Maud. ) But they're not to be disturbed, they have both got dreadful headaches. Maud. No wonder with the life we've been leading. ( Coming dowtt c. ) Mamma, Lobb has just written to me from home. He says he has sent eight letters to Paul, and has received no answer, (l.) Mrs. S. What thoughtlessness ! {Rises and crosses.) It's inexcusable. Did not I tell you he was not the husband for you, but you would not listen to me. When Rosa marries I shall have more to say in the matter. Rosa (R.). Mamma, I'm not thinking of marriage. Mrs. S. That's right, darling — leave it all to me. {Mys- teriously.) Who knows but that I may soon make some arrangement for you. Rosa. Mamma ! Mrs. S. Perhaps, perhaps. {Enter Minna, l. c. Mavd gets to settee, l.) Min. Signor Pescatori wants to know — Mrs. S. Pescatori ! show him up instantly. {Exit Minna, l. c.) Rosa {quickly). Mamma, has Signor Pescatori anything to do with this arrangement? Mrs. S. {mysteriously). Perhaps. Rosa. Oh, mamma, please don't think of it. I couldn't — I really couldn't. {Exit quickly, R. 2 e.) Mrs. S. What does this mean? {Enter Pescatori, l. c. Noise of rain begins.) A KETTLE OP FISH. 3/ Pesc. Signora, I came from the opera house. I bring you the tickets you wished for. ( Giving tickets. ) Mrs. S. For to-morrow. That's really very kind of you. My son-in-law will be delighted. Pesc. Ah ! the biglietti are for the Signor Turbot. Mrs. S. (c). Yes. Pesc. (l.)- Ah, then I could have given them to him just now. Maud. What do you mean ? Pesc. Ma si ! As I come from the opera I call on my old friend, Bocchini. He kept the costumier in Union Square. I could not speak to him, but I look through de little glass door, and, Dio mio ! I see the Signor Turbot. He wear the dress of a brigand for the bal masque at the opera to-night. Maud. What, my husband a brigand ! (^Upstage. Getting excited. ) Pesc. {aside'). Madonna, I have made a little mistake. Maud. Fancy my husband going to a bal masque. This, then, is what the sudden attack of headache meant. I will go and bring him back myself. ( Crossing at back towards L. 2 . e. Mrs. S. {stopping her) . Maud, such a man should not be run after, he is to be despised. Maud {coming down l.). I do despise him, mamma, but I want to see him with my own eyes. {Takes stage.) Mrs. S. I tell you no, Maud. It is not your place. PU send your father after him. Pesc. Ah ! that is all right, then, for the Signor {crossing C.) Salmon is there, too ; he is a Greek old man. {Gesture.) Mrs. S. What! My husband there ! {Rings.) Minna! Minna! {Goes back r. and calls out.) My cloak and hat. (Mrs. Salmon and Maud very excited. Rain louder i storm begins.) Maud. It's scandalous ! Mrs. S. Signor Pescatori, escort my daughter and myself to the opera house instantly. Pesc. But, signora, it rains, it storms. {Enter Minna, r. i e., with cloak and hat.) Mrs. S. {putting on cloak). Signor Pescatori, you are seeking the original of that picture. I will show her to you to-morrow if you will take us to the bal masque "^t once. Pesc. Signora, with that promise you can twista me round your finger. {Gesture.) 58 A KETTLE OF FISH. Mrs. S. Then let us go. {Noise of storm and rain louder.') Maud. Come, mamma, come. (^Exit, L. c.) Mrs. S. Follow us, signor. {Exit, L. c.) Pesc. Madonna ! there will be an unrehearsed tableau on that stage to-night. (^Exit, L. c.) Min. Well, I wonder whafs going on here? Why are they rushing to the theatre? and in such awful weather. Wait a minute. The gentlemen are in there, Miss Rosie's in there. I can just slip in next door to the ball for a few minutes, just to» tell my young man that I can't come. But when I am there I might just as well just take a couple of turns, they won't be back in time to catch me. (Runs off singing. Stage empty for a moment. Noise of storm very loud at first, thtaider decreasing during following scene. Thujider heard distantly ; lights half down. Enter Rosa, r. 2 e., with a lighted candle.) Rosa. I wonder where I left that book. (Looking.) I laid it here. Ah, there it is. (Thunder.) Oh dear, what a stoiTTi, it's enough to make anyone frightened. Goes to window, raises blind a little and peeps out.) What weather ! fancy having to be out in it ! He's at home ! at least there's a light in his room. There he goes walking up and down. How I hate a man that does nothing but walk up and down like a Polar bear in his cage ! He comes to the window ; he looks across. (Angrily.) What does he mean by looking across? (Ptdls down blind.) There, look as much as you please now. (Looking through window.) What impertinence ! He's looking still. I wonder how he'd like to have anyone looking at him? (Ring heard.) There, now he leaves his window. I hope he didn't see me. (Looking across i ring again.) He's just the sort of a man to think I was looking at him. (Ringrepeated several limes ; storm ceases.) What are they ringing about? Is Minna deaf? (Goes up and calls off .) Minna! Minna! She's not there. (Ring again.) Who can it be? Minna! Minna! (Ring again. She exits, L. c, and re-enters immediately with a postman ; he remains at the door. ) Postman. A registered letter for Mr. Paul Turbot. Rosa. Oh, yes. Won't you come in? Postman. No, thank you, miss, I'm dripping like a sponge — I'll wait here. (Thunder heard.) Rosa. Very well. (Goes to door.) Paul! Paul! (Opens A KETTLE OF FISH. 39 door and enters.') No one here; of course he's in papa's xooxa.. (^Looks inMK.'LPiKKaa^ door.') Minna! {Calls off, c.) Paul! Papa! papa! {Comes doTvn.) Where can they all be? {Goes to 'M.KS. hAKKms^ room.) Mamma! {Exits, calls off. ) Mamma, mamma ! where are you ? Is no one here ? {Re-enters. ) Good gracious ! There's no one in the house ! Postman. Well, miss ! I must go now. Can't you sign for him? Rosa {rushing tip and dragging him back) . No, no ! You must not go. I can't stay here all alone ! Postman. But — Rosa. Please — please don't leave me. I shall die of fright! Postman. There, there, there, its not so bad. {Clap of thunder heard. ) Rosa {rushing to Postman and clinging to him). Oh, oh! I can't let you go. You must stay here ! Postman {taking her hands and wiping thejn with his handkerchief). There, there. I'm sorry for you, but I can't stay. Rosa. But what am I to do? I can't go out into the streets at this time of night. Postman. Is there no one you can call in, miss ? Rosa. Not a soul. Postman. None of the neighbors ? Rosa. Of the neighbors — no. {Looking at window.) Yes ! he — he's the only person I can call in, and I'm sure he'd come. Mr. Grayling, I mean. He lives right opposite. If I ask him he'll come. Postman. Til go and tell him. {Going off .) Rosa {stopping him). No, no. I can't be left alone so long ! No, rU tell you what will do. You light all these can- dles. {Pointing to mantel-piece. VoST^Xii lights all the can- dles in candelabra and brings them, down to table by window, where he places them. Lights full on.) I wonder I didn't think of him before. He's so good, so noble and kind. {Pulling blind up. ) Here, put all the lights on the window- ledge — he's sure to notice that, there — there — stand here and beckon so — see, like that. {Pushes Postman to window. ) You must take something in your hand ; something white ; this will do. {Picks up play-bill so thai " Come here'''' is 40 A KETTLE OF FISH. seen.) That's capital — "Come here" — he'll understand that. Postman. There's someone at the window. Rosa. Where 1 Yes — yes, it's he ! now wait a minute. Now. {Holds up bill.) I'm sure he'll see that. Yes, he nods his head, he's coming. Postman {blows out aud replaces candelabra in their orig- inal places). Then I suppose I can go now.-" Rosa. Oh yes, you can go now. I'm not a bit frightened now he's coming. {Gives money.) I'm very much obliged for your kindness. Postman. Thank you, miss, that's nothing, no thanks, I couldn't leave you all alone. Good evening, miss. {Ring heard.) I'll go and let him in. {Exit, L. C.) Rosa. But what can I tell him ? I can't tell him that I was frightened, like a baby. It's terrible to be alone with him so late. He's coming up. What am I to do? {Looks around, sees door R. Quick curtain. L. ./ New Plays RED ACRE FARM A Rural Comedy Drama in Three Acts Jfy Gordan V. May Author of ''Bar Haven,'' " At Random Run" etc. Seven males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, one interioft one exterior. Plays two hours. An easy and entertaining play with a well-balanced cast of characters. The story is strong and sympathetic and the comedy element varied and amusing. Barnaby Strutt is a great part for a good comedian ; " Junior " a close second. Strongly recommended. Price, 2^ cents CHARACTERS Josi AH Armstrong, the owner of Red Acre Farm. Colonel Barnaby Strutt, "Crawling Codwollopers,** Jonah Jones, a farm helper. Squire Harcourt, who holds a mortgage. Harry Harcourt, his profligate son. Dick Randall, who seeks his fortune. Tom Busby, a traveling merchant. Amanda Armstrong, JosiaKs wife. Nellie Armstrong, driven from home. Laura Armstrong, a poor, weak sinner, Mrs. Barnaby Strutt, the Colonel's wife. •' Junior," adopted daughter of the Strutts. SYNOPSIS Act I. — Living-room of Armstrong's home. Spring. Act n. — Garden in front of Armstrong's home. Summer. Act HL — Same as Act \. Winter. THE SPEED LIMIT A Sketch in Two Scenes By Ernest M. Gould Five males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, unnecessary. Plays twenty minutes. A good-natured and effective skit on automobiling, very funny and very easy to get up. It requires no scenery or stage, but can be done on a platform just as well. Its fun is extravagant, but it is otherwise suited for school performance. Price, ij cents "WILLIAM" A Farce in One Act By W. C. Barker Two males, two females. Costumes, modern; scene, an interior. Plays twenty minutes. A brisk little piece of the vaudeville order, easy and full of laughs. All three parts are good ; strongly recommended. Price, i^ cents By the Author of "Mr. Bob" THE NEW CRUSADE A Comedy in Two Acts By Rachel Baker Gale velve females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. Plays one and thirty minutes. A very amusing satire of tlie servant girl ques- brimful of telling incidents and effective lines. All the parts are . and of nearly equal opportunity, and practically play themselves. I rehearsed, it is a sure success and goes with a scream. Irish, negro Swede character parts and a " tough " girl. Strongly recommended ladies' clubs. Can be played only on payment of a royalty of ^5.00 e author. Price, 2^ cents CHARACTERS s MoFiRlS, nothing if not businesslike. >. Cogswell-Brown, who believes in cooperative housekeeping, >. Potter- Hewitt, who looks small, but is not. ). Raymond, who advocates "The New Crusade." >. Archibald Tracey, in search of a maid and experience. DGETT Mahoney, in search of" an ould gintleman." lY Macguire, who likes ''the theyatre in the winter toime^ (USTA Olsen, who comes from "Svedenfor big monay." SIE Clay, who never "takes suggestions from anybody." jjie Burch, who never "has titne for afternoon tea." riLDA Johnson, who likes "slaughtennobiles atid a chojffer,*" IRY, the settlement girl — who' s always "on de level." COATS AND PETTICOATS A Comedy in One Act By Rachel Baker Gale 16 male (played by a woman), seven females, and if desired, sixteen for chorus. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays forty-five ites. A very lively and amusing piece introducing fancy dresses, c and dancing. All the parts of about equal opportunity. Irish :dy part and two capital " old maids." Very funny and not difficult, plete with music for the Suffragettes' song and march and the Old Is' song and march. Very strongly recommended. Price, 23 cents AN EASY MARK A Farce in One Act By Innis Gardner O shorn ve males, two females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an easy interior. s thirty-five minutes. A side-splitting farce of college life lively enough ait the most exacting demands. Full of funny incident and telling . Burlesque actor and " tough " young man parts ; the rest " straight" all good. Recommended for schools. Price^ ij cents. New College Plays THE COLLEGE BALL A Comedy in Four Acts By Harry O. Osgood Seven males, five females. Costumes modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays two hours and a half. Written expressly for school and college per- formance, and strongly recommended for this purpose. Easy to stage, all the parts good, plot of strong and sympathetic interest, lots of good and characteristic incident — in short, just what is asked for for this purpose. A sure success. Price, 2^ cents CHARACTERS Tom Bradford ") o . Kitty Peters, his daughter, Dick Adams j * Frances Wing. Henry Carter \ Eleanor Bradford, Tom^t aunt. Phil Patten |- Juniors. Sally Prentiss. George Ropes j A Maid. Professor Peters. A Waiter. TWO STRIKES A Baseball Comedy in Two Acts By Thacher Howland Guild Six males, one female. Costumes modern; sceneiy, two interiors. Plays an hour and a quarter. Originally produced by The Mask and Bauble Society of The University of Illinois, and highly recommended for similar uses. Very easy to produce, all the parts of nearly equal opportunity, dramatic interest unusually strong ; an unusually well written piece with excellent character drawing. Can be relied upon to please. Royalty of ^5.00 for each performance payable to the author. Price, 2^ cents CHARACTERS Dean Thomas, Dean of under- Phil Hodge, a senior. graduates. Cap. Fosdick, of the team. Artie, his student office-boy. Eben Spaulding, Lan s uncle, Lan Spaulding, of the baseball Helen Hodge, Phifs sister. t£(X77Z AN EQUAL CHANCE A Sketch in One Act Two male characters. Scenery unimportant ; modem costumes. Plays twenty minutes. A bright little rapid fire piece for two light comedy men. Light but keenly and continuously amusing. Just the thing to have ready for extemporaneous performance, since it requires neither scenery nor properties, and can be done in any costume. Price, /J cents. New Plays THE TWIG OF THORN An Irish Fairy Play in Two Acts By Marie Josephine Warren Author of **Tke Elopement of Ellen," "Tommfs Wife," "Endymion," etc. Six males, seven females. Costumes, Irish peasant ; scene, an interior. Plays an hour and a half. A little play of strong dramatic interest and quite exceptional charm of style and imaginative power, ideally suited for school performance, A close and accurate study of Irish folk-lore in the manner of Yeats, closely rivaling him in truth of atmosphere and in poetic auality. Highly recommended both as drama and as literature. Price, in cloth binding, 50 cents THE SENTIMENTAL SARAHS A Farce-Comedy in Three Acts By Harold Hale Author of "The Best Man," "A Tax on Bachelors," »77ie Blundering^ Mr. Brown," " The People's Money," etc. Five males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scene, a single interior. Plays one hour and forty minutes. A bright and amusing play with a very even cast of characters. Lots of incident and plenty of action. The lead- ing parts are two sentimental old maids, but their adventures are merely funny and never mawkish. Professional stage rights reserved but free for amateur performance. Price, 23 cents A ROW AT THE RUGGLES* A Comedy in One Act By Harold Hale Two males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an easy interior. Plays thirty minutes. A very vivacious and entertaining little piece telling a story of life during the honeymoon period, full of laughs and human in- terest. Easy, bright, up to date and generally to be recommended. Price, 15 cents UP AGAINST IT A Farce in One Act By Innis Gardner Osbom Five males, three females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an easy interior. Plays twenty-five minutes. A rapid and laughable complication of the vaudeville order with a cast of very even opportunity. An admirable colored character part, a « tough " young man and a burlesque old maid ; other parts straight. Easy and effective ; can be recommended. Price, 13 cents New Plays THE MISHAPS OF MINERVA A Farce in Two Acts By Bertha Currier Porter Five males, eight females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays one and a half hours. An exceptionally bright and amusing little play of high class and recommended to all classes of-amateur players. Full of ac- tion and laughs, but refined. Irish low comedy part. Strongly endorsed. Price, 2§ cents CHARACTERS Mortimer J. Sterling, an easy-going business man. Victor Brown, a young doctor, frierid of the family and especially of Minerva. Harry Stevenson, a club reporter, attentive to Qara, Barnes, the butler. Mike Shannon, a very new policeman. Mrs. Lydia Sterling, domestic and quiet. Minerva Sterling, willing to oblige. Clara Sterling, her younger sister. Molly, the maid. Belle Brantley, reporter for " The Screamer" Mrs. Wright, a club woman. Miss Palmer, a philanthropic worker. Mrs. Jennie Van Deusen Spuyker, a Personage. Members of the reception committee. A CHANGE OF HEART A Comedy in Two Acts By Albert H. Good Five males, six females. Costumes, modern ; scene, a single interior. Plays an hour and a half. An easy, pretty and effective play, suited for schools or young people. Scenery not absolutely necessary. Can be recommended. Price, 25 cents MAKING A SISTER A Mock Initiation for Ladies in One Act By Epes Winthrop Sargent Ten female characters. Costumes, modem ; scenery unimportant. Plays from forty minutes to an hour. A very bright and lively entertainment, especially strong in its dialogue. Plenty of ludicrous incident and char- acteristic action, but quite without the element of " rough and tumble " that would be so objectionable in an entertainment for ladies. The candi- date is placed in positions that are rather undignified but is neither mussed nor mauled. Strongly recommended. Price, 2$ cents New Plays OUR WIVES A Farce in Three Acts By Anthony E. Wills Seven males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. Plays two hours and a half. A bustling, up-to-date farce that deserves the rather worn description of " side-splitting." Full of movement and action ; all the parts good and effective ; easy to produce ; just the thing for an ex- perienced amateur club and hard to spoil, even in the hands of less prac- tical players. Free for amateur performance. Price, 2^ cents CHARACTERS RoswELL Chandler, a retired merchant. (Old Man.) Walter Blair, his son-in-law. (Comedy Lead.) Oscar Siebel, a composer. (German.) Lloyd Deveaux, a chronic invalid. (Character Old Maji.) John Stanton, a detective. (Comedy.) y[.k\A.O'K\ , a reporter. (Comedy.) Ford, an expressman. (Utility.) GiLDA Deveaux, wife of Deveaux. (Lead.) Mrs. Chandler, wife of Roswell. (Old Lady.) Beattie Blair, wife of Walter. (Straight.) Julia, a French maid. (French.) THE PACKING OF THE HOME MIS- SIONARY BARREL An Entertainment in One Scene By Mrs. Henry A. Hallock Ten females. Costumes, modern ; scenery unimportant. Plays thirty minutes. One of those little satires of feminine ways that are so popular even with the ladies ; very shrewd and effective, but perfectly good-na- tured. An assured success and very easy to get up. Strongly recom' mended. Price, i^ cents THE BARGAIN COUNTER A Farce in Three Scenes By Grace Moody Five females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays thirty minutes. A bright little piece satirizing that institution so dear to the fem- inine heart — ««the bargain counter." Full of good-natured fun; can be recommended. Price, 15 cents New Plays HIS WORD OF HONOR A Comedy in Three Acts By Charles Gott Eleven males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors and an easy exterior. Plays two hours. An exceptionally good college play, high in tone and aim, and faithful in atmosphere and color. Its theme is taken from the serious side of college life, — the so-called " Honor System " in college examinations, — but its humorous traits are various and rich and its general tone gay and vivacious. Very strongly recommended for scnools, particularly for co-educational institutions. Will suit both in- structors and instructed. Price, 25 cents CHARACTERS Dick Walthour, a senior. Harvey Grant, a senior, president of the Student Council. Bert Flemming, Dick" s roommate, a junior. Arthur Carson, a Virginian, a Junior William Henry Fraser, alias " Kid," a freshman. Hunter, Jackson, King, Wilkins, students. Jeremiah Hackett, a sophomore, Fraser s roommate. Coffey, 2l postman. Helen Flemming, Berfs sister, a junior. Janette Gordon, a junior. Molly Atkins, a freshman. Arethusa a. Judkins, a sophomore, a "grind." Mrs. MacInchbald, the chamber-" maid." Professor Nicely, Professor Loomis, and others. WHEN WOMEN VOTE A Farce in Two Acts By Anna P. See Five females. Costumes, modern; scenery, an easy interior. Plays forty minutes. A good-natured and clever forecast of the time when the Suffragette has won her fight, telling an amusing little story to carry its satire. Good for women's clubs ; easy and bright. Price, 15 cents BUMPS A Farce in One Act By Lillie Davis Three females. Costumes, modern ; scene, an interior. Plays twentjr five minutes. An amusing little hit at the fad of phrenology, suitable for school performance. Clean and bright. Price /J cents an^.-jg.i:-!:.";;^..^. .) .- .>>- New Plays THE COUNTRY DOCTOR A Comedy Drama in Four Acts By Arthur Lewis Tubbs Author of • • Valley Farm, " " Willowdale" ' ' The Village School-Ma am^ ''The Country Minister," "Miss Buzby s Boarders," etc. Six males, five females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. Plays two hours. Easy to stage and full of interest. The female parts are the stronger, being exceptionally good. Negro and " hayseed " < comedy parts. A very strong dramatic piece and a sure hit in good jj^ hands. Can be recommended on the name of the author, whose plays are always successful. Price, 2^ cents CHARACTERS Thomas Brixton, M. D., the village doctor. ' Howard Wayne, in love with Dolly. 'Squire Ferguson, the sheriff. Sam Birch, proprietor of the hotel. Zebediah Bunn, who hangs around, Eri, tha{ s all. Ben Shaw, the stage- driver. Agnes Gilbert, shadowed by fate. Dolly Brixton, the doctor s sister. Susan Pinner, his housekeeper. Mrs. Birch, Sams wife. Anna Belle Umsxead, with aspirations. SYNOPSIS Acx I. — Ofifice of the American House, Elmville, N. Y., about nine o'clock oti an evening in January. Acx II. — Dr. Britten's residence, a morning early in the next June. Acx III. — The same, in the evening, a week later. Act IV. — Same as Act I, the next morning. THE MAN WITH THE NOSE A Farce in Two Scenes By Edward P. Knox « Eight males. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors. Plays forty minutes. Written especially for performance by boys' schools and rec- ommended for that purpose. Very clever and quite unusual both in idea and in treatment. A great success in its original performance at St. George's Trade School. Price, 75 cents iStiai Im^frff' New Plays ELMWOOD FOLKS A Drama in Three Acts ; ♦ By Charles S. Bird Author of "At the Junction,'^ etc. Eight males, four females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, two interiors, one exterior. Plays a full evening. An easy and very actable piece with an unusually even cast of characters. Clean, wholesome and entertain- ing ; can be recommended for school performance. Price, 25 cents }^ CHARACTERS V> David Bainbridge, editor of the Elmwood " Hem.'* James Wentworth, an old compositor. Squire Alford, a hard man. Dick Alford, his stepson, a young lawyer. Whittier Jones, a contributor to the " Item." Tommy Gay, David's apprentice. Mr. Pinch, an officer. A Messenger Boy. ' Mrs. Bainbridge, Z>(a:z//V/ '5 o/i^. , Bessie Bainbridge, their daughter. Drucilla Jones, Whittier s aunt. Mary Gay, Mrs. Bainbridge s maid. Tommy's sister. SYNOPSIS * Act I. — Office of the Elmwood Item. Act II. — Lawn beside the Bainbridge home. Act III. — Parlor in the same. HER UNCLE'S BOOTS A Farce in One Act By Mrs. Myrtle Barber Carpenter Seven females. Costumes, modern; scene, an easy interior. Plays thirty minutes. An easy and effective little play suitable for Girls' Schools or young people in amateur theatricals. Very funny, but with a sympathetic thread of interest. Clean and bright. Recommended. Price, 15 cents AN OUTSIDER ' A College Play for Girls in One Act By Wilhemen Wilkes % Sevtn females. Costumes, modern ; scenery, an interior. Plays thirty-five minutes. An unusually strong and sympathetic little play for • its length and pretensions, strongly recommended to schools. The story turns upon a basket-ball match and is full of interest. Price, 7j cents isMiMiJ^ New Rural Plays VALLEY FARM A Drama in Four Acts By Arthur Lewis Tubbs Six males, six females. Scenery, two interiors and an exterior. Cos- tumes modern. This play is powerfully emotional, but is relieved by plenty of humor. An admirable play for amateurs, very sympathetic in theme, and with lots of good parts. Hetty is a strong lead, and Perry Deane and Silas great parts ; while Azariah, Lizy Ann Tucker and Ver- bena are full of fun. Plays a full evening. Price, 2j cents ^ WILLOWDALE ^ A Play in Three Acts ^ By Arthur Lewis Tubbs ^ Seven males, five females, Sceiiery, two easy interiors; costumes modem. This is a play of exceptional interest and power. Its combina- tion of humor and emotional interest makes it almost certain to please any audience. Admirably suited for amateur performance, all the parts being j good. Godfrey is an admirable heavy part, Joel, Lem and Simon capital character parts. Mis' Hazey a novel eccentric bit, and Oleander a part of p screaming comedy. Plays two hours and a quarter. Price, 25 cents DOWN IN MAINE A Drama in Four Acts By Charles Tozonsend Eight male, four female characters. This charming play is Mr. Townsend's masterpiece. There are no villains, no " heroics," no tangled plot nor sentimental love-scenes ; yet the climaxes are strong, the action brisk, and the humor genial, and the characters strongly drawn. Can be played in any hall ; scenery, of the easiest sort. No shifting during any act. Properties, few and simple ; costumes modem. Plays a full evening. Strongly recommended. Price, 23 cents BAR HAVEN A Comedy in Three Acts By Gordan V. May \ Six males, five females. Costumes modem ; scenery, two interiors \ and an exterior, not difficult. Plays two hours. An excellent piece, / cleverly mingling a strongly serious interest with abundant humor. Offers ' ~' a great variety of good parts of nearly equal opportunity. Admirably * suited for amateur performance, and strongly recommended. Price^ 2^ cents THE MAGISTRATE ^*'*'® *° Three Acta. TwelTO males, four ' females. Costumes, modem ; scenery, all Interior, flays two hours and a half. THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITP J'^r * J° J«y ^f El, r males, five females . Costumes, modem ; scenery, all interiors PL- ys a full evening. THE PROFLIGATE ^^y^^^o^-^cts ^even males, eve females. Scenery, three interiors, rather elaborate ; costumes, modem. Plays a fall evening. THE SCHOOLMISTRESS FarceinThreeAct8.NInemales,seven females. Costumes, modem ; scenery, three Interiors. Plays a full evening. THE SECOND MRS. TANQCERAY ^^^ V«^ ^^f ^f'' ^ males, five females. Cos- tumes, modem ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. SWEET LAVENDER ^'^^^'^y ^ Three Acts. Seven males, four females. Scene, a single Interior; costumes, modem. Plays a full evening. THF TIMFS ^°™®^y ^ Four Acts. Six males, seven females. Scene, a single interior ; costumes, modem. Plays a full evening. THE WEAKFR SFX ^^^^^l ^ Three A«ts. Eight males, eight females. Costumes, modem ; scenery, two Interiors. Plays a full evening. A WIFE WITHOUT A SMIIF comedy in Three Acts. Five A nirC niiUUUl a ^mUh ^ales, four females. Costumes, modom; acAno, a single interior. Plays a fall erening. Sent prepaid on receipt of price by W^litt J^* iBafier s, Company No. 5 Hamiltoa Plaee, Boston, Massachusetts -m Cfje l^illiam Wmtn CUitioti of $la?s l&rite, 15 €mtg