Price, 50 Cents Each

Sent prepaid on receipt of price by
Walter H. Baker & Company
No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts

CHARACTERS

(As originally produced in Tottenville, N. Y., June 9, 1911).

Time:—The present. Locality:—A farm in the upper part of New York State.

Time of performance, one hour and a half.

Copyright, 1912, by Walter H. Baker & Co.[3]

Act I.—Dining-room at “High Up Farm.” The arrival of the boarder from the city. The two letters. The farmer decides to have his sailboat painted, since the summer boarders have begun to come.

Act II.—Lawn at “High Up Farm.” Heartache is much perplexed. Helen helps him fix it. The tramp. The plot. Hattie is surprised. “He has disguised himself to test the depths of my devotion.” The tramp tries to escape.

Act III.—Same as Act II. An embarrassing mistake. “Look out for paint.” Miss Renwick decides that she don’t want a husband. The widow wins. Bill settles it all.

COSTUMES

It will be necessary for Hattie and Helen to change. Hattie is to be stylishly gowned in summer apparel when she enters in first act. Helen to fit the occasion, as a farmer’s daughter when at work about the house, and also “dressed up” to receive visitors. Bill in ridiculous make-up and big straw hat. Percy in rather dudish style. Roamer in ragged coat and overalls. Hiram as a farmer at work. Hickory “dressed up” a little. Lucinda as a widow just discarding her weeds. Susan with apron, etc.

PROPERTIES

Churn, table, chairs, benches, etc., broom, feather duster and ordinary furnishings for common sitting-room; table is set on lawn during intermission between second and third acts Sign, “Cow [4-5]for Sale.” Two paint cans, with brushes.

Enter Hiram Rodney, drying hands with big, coarse towel.

Hiram. So it’s city boarders we’re going to have, eh? An’ one is comin’ to-day! Well, I don’t think a whole lot of this pesky business, but Susan got it in her head to take ’em, so I s’pose she’s got to have her way about it. Women-folks generally does have their own way, anyhow. I know Susan does; she always has, too. But it’s all right. A little cash money from boarders will come in mighty handy, I calculate. It’s been so dry that it looks as though the corn crop is going to be a rank failure. An’ the hay——(Voices and laughter outside.) Hello! What’s this? Bill has brought the new boarder over from the depot, I s’pose. (Goes to door at C.) Yes, sure enough, she’s come. My! but ain’t she dressed up! Paint an’ powder on her face, too! An’ Bill is luggin’ in her trunk.

Enter Bill, carrying trunk, followed by Hattie Renwick.

Bill. Here we are, Mr. Rodney. I found her all right. Ain’t she a stunner? I’ll bet that dress an’ hat of hers cost more’n five dollars, bergosh! Ain’t she——

Hiram. Shet up, you fool! Don’t you know how to act when we’ve got company?

Hat. (graciously). Oh, don’t mind him. I think Bill is just too cute for anything. He is so witty in his conversation that I just enjoyed myself riding over from the depot. (Laughs lightly and glances killingly at Bill, who curtsies and then struts around like a peacock.) So this is High Up Farm, I suppose?

Hiram. Yes, miss, that’s just what it is. Be you Miss Hattie Renwick, the new boarder?

[6]

Hat. Yes, that is who I am, sir. I suppose you are Mr. Rodney?

Hiram. That’s me. I’m the boss of this here place—when Susan ain’t around, I mean. (Footsteps at L.) Here she comes now. She’ll look after you all right, miss. Susan knows her business.

Enter Susan Rodney, from kitchen at L.

Hat. Mrs. Rodney, I presume?

Susan (bowing and smiling). Yes, that’s who I be. You are the young lady come here to board, I take it?

Hiram. That’s who she is, Susan. Jest look after her, will you? (To Bill.) Take that trunk up-stairs, Bill, an’ hurry up about it. I’ve got to send you back to the village before you unhitch the mare. I wanted you to do an errand for me, but you went off without me knowin’ it. Hurry up now.

Bill. All right. I’ll git this here trunk up-stairs in a jiffy. (Tries to lift trunk and falls over it.) Gosh! I missed my hold that time. (To Hat.) Say, miss, there ain’t no crockery in this, is there?

Hat. (laughing). No crockery, Bill.

Bill. All right, then.

(Hiram helps him and the two exeunt with trunk at R.)

Hat. (looking about room and breathing a sigh of relief). What a relief to get out of the crowded, dusty city. I am so glad I am here.

Susan. You ought to be, Miss Renwick. There is nothing like the dear old country, after all. Shall I show you to your room?

Hat. If you please, Mrs. Rodney.

Enter Hiram and Bill, R. Exeunt Susan and Hat., R.

Hiram. Now, Bill, I want you to drive over to the village and tell Jim Styles to send a man over here to paint ther boat just as soon as he kin. Since we’re goin’ ter have boarders, we’ve got to have the boat so they kin use it on the lake. Tell him it’s white paint for the outside an’ yaller inside. Don’t you forgit, Bill.

Bill. I won’t. But I’ll have to bring in an armful of wood first. I seen there wasn’t any in ther wood-box when I come in.

[7]

Hiram. Mighty thoughtful of you all at once.

Bill. Say! but ain’t the new boarder a daisy?

(Laughs uproariously.)

Hiram. Pshaw! You don’t think that city gal would take any notice of you, do yer?

Bill. I don’t, eh? That’s as much as you know about it. Why, she told me I was a fine specimen of a healthy young farmer. (Draws himself up proudly.) An’ she give me a dig in ther ribs, too. She’s a reg’lar peach! (Laughs loudly again.)

Hiram. You’re a born fool, Bill, an’ you don’t know it. That gal was jest makin’ fun of yer, that’s all.     [Exeunt Hiram and Bill.

Enter Helen Rodney, with bunch of flowers in her hand.

Hel. I see the buggy outside, so I suppose our boarder has arrived. I wonder how she looks? She wrote that she is a stenographer in New York, and the letter was typewritten, too. By the way it read, she must be very much of a lady. Well, as there is no one here now, I’ll take my chance to write a note to Percy. I know mother won’t object, so I’ll invite him over to take tea with us to-morrow afternoon. Percy is just too sweet for anything; and he is an artist, too! I hope the new boarder is not good-looking, so there will be no danger of her cutting me out. (Opens drawer in stand and takes out paper, pen and ink and writes.) There! (Holds up note she has written.) That is rather brief, but it will answer the purpose, I know. Percy will be delighted to come, too. When mother and father see him and get acquainted with him they won’t mind if he comes often, I am sure. (Reads.) “Dear Percy, come over to-morrow afternoon and take tea with us. Pa and ma will be pleased to see you. Yours lovingly, H. R.” (Places paper in envelope and addresses it. Bill is heard whistling outside.) Here, Bill, I want you. Hurry up.

Bill (on his hands and knees). What do yer want, Helen?

Hel. Get up, stupid. I want you to take this letter to the post-office some time to-day.

Bill (taking letter). All right, Helen. I’ve got to go to ther village right away, an’ I’ll mail ther letter for yer.

[8]

Hel. Well, see that you don’t lose it. Here is ten cents for you.

Bill. Hooray! I’ll buy a mouth-organ now. Then I’ll make some mew-sick around High Up Farm, see if I don’t. Helen, you never heard me play a mouth-organ, did yer?

Hel. No; and I don’t wish to hear you, either. Just pick up that wood and be off with you.

Bill (gathering up the sticks of wood). All right, Helen. I forgot to thank you for this dime.

Hat. Oh! Here is pen, ink and paper. Just what I want. I wonder if I could get that simple fellow, Bill, to go over to the post-office? I must let Percy know I am here. Won’t he be surprised! What a romance, indeed. We have never seen each other, nor even exchanged photographs, but I am sure he loves me, or he would never have answered my second letter after reading my advertisement in a matrimonial paper. When I found High Up Farm was so near the village he is stopping in I could not make arrangements to come here quickly enough. How delightful! How romantic! I’ll just write him a few words to let him know I am here. I will ask him to come over to-morrow afternoon. Just think of it! How romantic it will be! I am sure I will know him, for I can imagine just how he looks from his letters. And he is an artist, too. Very, very romantic! (Sits down and writes.) There! I think this will do. (Reads.) “Dear Percy: I have just arrived at High Up Farm and will be pleased to meet you here to-morrow afternoon. I know how surprised you will be when you read this, and feel sure that when you see me you will not be sorry you answered my matrimonial advertisement, which was really inserted more in a spirit of mischief than anything else. Yours, lovingly, H. R.” (To audience.) That ought to land him, if anything will. Since I have decided to get married, I must go the limit. I must land this handsome young artist—I know he must be handsome, for artists always are—and I will surely look my best to-morrow afternoon. I wonder where that big booby, Bill, is? (Bill heard whistling outside.) Oh! there he is now. (Walks to L.) Come here, Bill; I want you.

[9]

Enter Bill, whip in hand.

Bill. What do you want, miss?

Hat. When are you going over to the village again?

Bill. Right now. Kin I do anything for yer?

Hat. (sealing note in envelope). Yes; take this letter to the post-office for me. (Writes address on envelope.)

Bill. All right, Miss Daisy; I’ll do it for yer.

Hat. My name isn’t Daisy.

Bill. Well, you’re a daisy, jest ther same.

Hat. (laughing). Do you think so, Bill?

Bill. I don’t think so; I know it, bergosh!

Hat. None of that, Bill. I know you don’t mean a word of what you say. You are just like the rest of the men.

Bill (pulling up trousers and strutting about with chest thrown out). Rest of ther men, eh? Well, I always thought I was nothin’ but a boy yet. But if you say I’m a man, I must be, Daisy.

Hat. (handing him letter and piece of money). Here is a quarter for you. Take the letter and be sure and mail it. That’s a good boy.

Bill (starting toward L.). Boy, eh? A minute ago I was a man. Well, that’s jest like ther wimmen-folks. They say one thing an’ mean another.

(Laughs loudly and goes off L. Hat. goes off C.)

Enter Susan, R.

Susan. Now I suppose I must get dinner ready. The new boarder is most likely hungry, an’ I want her to be satisfied. Six dollars a week ain’t to be sneezed at these times.

(Starts for L., when Hel. enters.)

Hel. Mother, I have asked a young man to come over and take tea with us to-morrow. You don’t object, do you?

Susan. Young man? You mean that painter you’ve talked so much about in the last week or two, I s’pose?

Hel. Not painter, mother. He is an artist.

Susan. Well, ain’t a painter an artist? I call him a painter, an’ I don’t think he amounts to much, though I ain’t never set eyes on him.

Hel. (taking Susan’s face in her hands). Oh, mother,[10] you will surely change your opinion when you see him once. He is just too sweet for anything. He is very wealthy, too, and I happen to know that he has more than an ordinary fondness for me.

Susan (disengaging herself from Hel.). All girls are alike at your age. Well, let him come, if he wants to. I was thinking of inviting the widow over to-morrow afternoon, so Miss Renwick would have company. Most likely she’ll find it rather lonesome here at first. Hick Homespun told your father he was coming over to look at the brindle cow which is for sale, to-morrow afternoon, so it will just come in fine. The widow has set her cap for Hick, an’ I’ve made up my mind to help her along all I can. Yes. Let the painter come over, an’ we’ll have a little party.

Hel. And we won’t say anything about it to father, or the boarder, mother. Let’s make it a surprise party, as far as they are concerned.

Susan. Very well, Helen. I was goin’ to tell your father, but if you want him surprised it’s all right.

Hel. Where is the new boarder, mother? I haven’t seen her yet.

Susan. She is up in her room. She seems to be a very nice girl.

Hel. Is she good-looking?

Susan. Very. She reminds me of one of them pictures you see in the fashion books. (Starts.) I hear her coming downstairs now. I’ll introduce you right away.

Enter Hat., R.

Hat. Has Bill gone yet, Mrs. Rodney? I have just discovered that I failed to bring my tooth powder with me, and if there is a drug store at the village I want him to get me some.

Susan. I’ll see if Bill has gone yet, Miss Renwick. (Goes to door at C., and looks out.) There! he is going now. Hey, Bill! Come back here. You’re wanted. (Comes back.) Miss Renwick, let me make you acquainted with my daughter Helen.

Hat. I am very glad to meet her, I am sure. How do you do, Miss Rodney? (They shake hands.)

[11]

Hel. I am quite well, I thank you. I hope you will like it here at High Up Farm.

Hat. I hope so; but it does seem rather slow here at the start. You see, I am so used to the gay life of the city, with the theatre parties every night or two, and the receptions and balls. It is so different in the country. But I will get used to it, I know.

Hel. Miss Renwick, do stenographers have such enjoyment in the city? They must draw large salaries.

Hat. Oh, they do. But of course they don’t use their own money for such pleasures. The fellows attend to that part of it—young men interested in Wall Street, and the like, you know.

Hel. Oh, I see. It must be delightful to live in the city and be a stenographer.

Enter Bill hurriedly from C.

Bill. What do yer want, Missus Rodney? You jest stopped me in time. If I hadn’t waited to fix ther mare’s traces you wouldn’t have got me.

Hat. (smiling graciously). It is I who want you, Bill.

Bill. Oh, it’s you, eh, Daisy?

Hat. What did I tell you about calling me Daisy?

Bill. Excuse me. I’ll change it an’ call you Peach, then.

Hat. Stop your nonsense, Bill. (Takes money from purse and hands it to him.) There! Stop at the drug store and get me a box of tooth powder. If you can’t get powder, get paste.

Bill. An’ if I can’t git paste I’ll git a bottle of mucilage.

Hel. The idea, Bill! Mucilage! People don’t use such stuff as that to clean their teeth.

Bill. If they was false it would be good to stick ’em to ther gums.

Hat. (sharply). Bill, I want you to understand that my teeth are all my own.

Bill. Of course, Daisy—I mean Peach. Whose would they be? If you’ve got false ones most likely you paid for ’em. Whose would they be? (Goes to door at C., laughing.) But all right, Peach. I’ll git ther tooth powder for yer. I won’t forgit. I’m goin’ to buy a set of clappers with that quarter you give me afore. Then, with a new mouth-organ an’ ther clappers, there’ll be a regular band of music around High Up Farm.     [Exit.

[12]

Hel. Mother, that boy is getting to be a regular nuisance. The idea of him speaking that way to a stranger!

Hat. Oh! I don’t mind him, Miss Rodney. Bill isn’t exactly all right. I noticed that when he met me at the depot. He means no offense, I am sure. His comical actions and remarks help take away the dullness. Bill is all right.

Susan. Well, we’ve had him ever since he was about ten years old, an’ he’s always been pretty faithful. I s’pose he can’t help it if he’s a little loose in his upper story. Most likely he was born that way.

Hel. Quite likely, mother.

Hat. (sitting down). Miss Helen, are there many good-looking young farmers around here?

Hel. There are plenty of young men in the neighborhood, Miss Renwick. But as to their good looks, I suppose you would be better able to judge than I. You reside in the city, and I presume you see so many handsome young men that you would not think much of those you will meet here in the country. As for myself, I don’t care a great deal for farmers.

Susan. Shame on you, Helen! You, a farmer’s daughter, talkin’ like that.

Hel. I can’t help it, mother; just because I was born on a farm don’t say that I should be a farmer’s wife.

Hat. Why, I think that would be delightful, provided the husband could give his wife all she wanted. Plenty of fine dresses, a horse and carriage, and a nice automobile. Farmers usually are very wealthy, I have heard.

Susan. Well, there ain’t many rich ones around here, Miss Renwick. About the only one anywhere around here who’s got plenty of money is Hick Homespun, an’ his father left it to him. Hick never earned it, though he does know pretty well how to keep it.

Hat. Hick Homespun! What a funny name, Mrs. Rodney.

Susan. Yes, it is a sorter old-fashioned name. But Hick is all right, just the same.

Hel. His given name is Hickory, but every one calls him Hick, for short.

Hat. Is he married?

Hel. No, he is a bachelor farmer.

Susan. But he ain’t likely to remain a bachelor very long. Lucinda Wheatchaff, the widow, has set her cap for him. She’ll catch him, too, for Lucinda has very winnin’ ways. She made[13] up her mind to get Hank Wheatchaff, an’ she jest went ahead an’ got him. But Hank didn’t live more’n a year, an’ when he died he left the widow a nice little farm an’ a few thousands in cash. Lucinda will win Hick all right, though he’s an awful bashful man. She’ll—— (Knock at door C.) As I live! I believe that’s the widow now. I always know her knock. (Calls out.) Come in.

Enter Lucinda Wheatchaff.

Luc. Hello, everybody! Isn’t this a lovely day? (Sees Hat.) Oh! excuse me, Mrs. Rodney. I wasn’t aware that you had company.

Susan (introducing them). Mrs. Wheatchaff, this is our new boarder, Miss Renwick, of New York.

Luc. How do you do, Miss Renwick? We country folks are always glad to meet city folks.

Hat. (graciously). It gives me great pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mrs. Wheatchaff.

(They shake hands, the widow very demonstrative.)

Hel. Lucinda, I was just telling Miss Renwick about Hick. She wanted to know if there were any nice young men around here.

Luc. Oh, she wanted to know that, eh? (Sizes up Hat. critically, and then gives a sniff.) Well, I hardly think Hick Homespun would suit her. Hick has got an awful objection to paint and powder, too. He wouldn’t be apt to take to Miss Renwick.

Hat. (with sweet sarcasm). Indeed! Mrs. Wheatchaff, you are very blunt in your way of speaking, I see. But if the gentleman referred to objects to paint and powder, how do you ever expect to win him?

Luc. (holding up her hands in surprise). Me? As if I wanted another man! I’ve had one, and I am sure that is enough. (Picks up her parasol and walks about indignantly.) But say! (Pauses before Hat. and shakes parasol at her.) If you think you can get Hick Homespun to take any notice of you, go ahead. I’m sure it is nothing to me. But I don’t believe——

(Loud noise outside, and Hiram enters in great excitement.)

Hiram. Susan, get the gun—quick! There’s a big[14] chicken-hawk after the old dominick hen an’ her chickens. Hurry, Susan!

QUICK CURTAIN

Enter Percy Heartache, L.

Percy (perplexed). Well, this is a great state of affairs. I don’t know how I am to get out of the mess I am in. Who would ever have dreamed of such a thing as that girl I corresponded with through the foolish matrimonial advertisement would be here? Why, I never saw her, and I only answered her letters for fun. The idea of her going so far as to come here to board! It is ridiculous. But to make matters worse (shaking his head sadly) Helen sends me an invitation to come over this afternoon and get acquainted with her parents. The two letters arrived at the same time, and both bear the same initials. (Takes letters from pocket and again shakes his head.) Well (bracing up), I made up my mind to come here and make a clean breast of it to Helen, and I came an hour earlier, so I might learn my fate as soon as possible. I wish I could see her without going to the house. Ah! here she comes now, as I live!

Enter Hel., R. Hurries to the churn and starts churning.

Hel. Oh, dear! I wish the butter would come. (Churns vigorously.) I won’t have time to dress before Percy gets here. The dear fellow. I know he will surely come.

Percy. Ahem!

Hel. (stops churning and turns). Oh! is it you, Mr. Heartache?

Percy. Yes, Miss Rodney. I came over a little early, because I have something to say to you. It is of a rather serious nature, and has been worrying me ever since I went to the post-office last night. (Walks to L.)

[16]

Hel. (aside). Gracious! It can’t be that he is going to propose. (Walks toward Percy.) What is it, Mr. Heartache? Perhaps I might be able to advise you.

Percy (brightening up). I am sure you can, Helen—I mean Miss Rodney. I surely am in a bad fix. But sit down here and I’ll tell you all about it.

(They sit upon bench near C.)

Hel. Go on and tell me. I am sure your troubles cannot be very great.

Percy. Wait until you have heard. Helen—excuse me for calling you Helen——

Hel. Certainly. To be even with you, I shall call you Percy.

Percy. I like that. But let me tell my story. Perhaps after you have heard it you won’t want to ever see me again.

Hel. Is it so serious as all that?

Percy. It surely is. Helen, a month or so ago I was foolish enough to answer an advertisement in a matrimonial paper. I did it just for the fun of the thing, you know.

Hel. I did the same thing once. A bachelor, whose chief drawing points were that he was bald-headed and had a fortune, advertised that he wished to correspond with a charming country girl who was matrimonially inclined, and I wrote to him.

Percy. Ah! is that so?

Hel. Yes; but there was no harm in it, was there?

Percy. Certainly not. How many letters did you write to him?

Hel. Only one. I did not answer the one I received in reply, for it seemed as though he meant business, and what did I want of an old bald-headed man, even if he was rich?

Percy. Of course you didn’t want him. But to be real serious, Helen. The fix I am in at present is all through answering an advertisement in a matrimonial paper. I wrote to the young lady twice, and it seems that she took it altogether too seriously. The fact is, Helen, that she is here, and she has invited me to call at your father’s house this afternoon.

Hel. (rising excitedly). What do you mean?

Percy. Just what I say. Haven’t you a young lady stopping here?

Hel. Why—er—yes. But——

Percy. Isn’t her name Hattie Renwick?

Hel. (completely amazed). Yes, that is her name.

[17]

Percy. Read this note and you will understand it all. (Hands her Hattie’s note.) I hope you will forgive me, Helen. I will never do such a foolish thing again as long as I live.

Hel. (reading note aloud). Well, I declare! If this isn’t a remarkable coincidence. Why, she must have sent this to the post-office with Bill when I sent mine yesterday.

Percy. I received the two invitations at the same time. Imagine my surprise, and my feelings, too, when I read them.

Hel. Well, I am not a bit jealous of her, Percy. I consider this a great joke, indeed I do.

Percy. Oh, do you? You are not angry, then?

Hel. Angry? No. But say, Percy, if you could only get some one to come here and represent himself to be Percy Heartache, what a joke it would be! Miss Renwick is an old maid, and the way she paints her face is disgusting. Imagine her wanting to marry a handsome young artist! Why, she is artist enough herself.

(Laughs lightly, and Percy, much relieved, joins in.)

Percy. I wish I knew how to get out of this. Your suggestion is a good one, but who could I get to represent himself to be me? I suppose I might go back to the village and find some one, though.

Hel. (eagerly). Do it, Percy. You can find somebody who would do it just for the fun of it. I will tell mother about it. Here she comes now.

Enter Susan, R.

Susan. Why, Helen, have you given up the churning? Oh! you have a visitor, I see. (Smiles and approaches.)

Hel. Yes, mother, let me introduce you to Mr. Heartache. He is the young man I spoke to you about—the artist, you know.

Susan. So he is the painter, eh? How do you do, Mr. Heartache?

Percy. Quite well, thank you. (Bows, and then Susan extends hand. Percy accepts it and they shake cordially.) You have a beautiful place here, Mrs. Rodney. High Up Farm is well named. The land is very high and level here and the pure air is simply delightful. The scenery is grand, too, and I mean to make some sketches of it, if I receive permission to do so.

[18]

Susan. You mean to paint pictures of the trees and such.

Percy. Yes, that is it.

Hel. Mother, what do you think Hattie Renwick came to board with us for?

Susan (surprised). Why, I don’t know, unless it was to get away from the city for a while and enjoy herself in the fresh country air. What do you mean, Helen?

Hel. Well, I’ll tell you, mother. She came here so she could get acquainted with Mr. Heartache. It seems that he answered a matrimonial advertisement she inserted in some paper, and when she answered him he wrote again, giving his address at the village. She discovered that our farm was right near the village, so she came here. Percy—I mean Mr. Heartache—never saw Miss Renwick, and he cares nothing for her, whatever. She had the audacity to——

Susan. Why, Helen, what do you mean?

Hel. Listen, mother. Let me finish. She had the audacity to send Mr. Heartache a note, inviting him here to-day. I invited him, too, as you are aware. Now, he does not want to let the brazen old maid know who he is, and we were just talking and trying to think of some way to play a joke on her.

Susan. Well, if that is why she came to High Up Farm I think she ought to have a joke played on her. I have a notion to go right now and tell her what I think of her.

Hel. Don’t do it, mother. She is getting along in years, and she no doubt wants to get a husband so badly that she can be excused. What we want you to do is to help us in this. It will only be a little harmless fun, and Percy will be spared the scene that would surely follow if she met him, thinking he had come here for the purpose of meeting her. Percy is going to the village and will try to get some one to impersonate him. Of course it will not be a good-looking young man he will get, either, and there is where the fun will come in. Now, mother, do help us out, won’t you?

Susan (shaking her head, as though in doubt). I don’t like this kind of business, Helen. But since Mr. Heartache seems to be such a nice young man, an’ he is a painter, besides, I’ll do as you want me to. The idea of Miss Renwick comin’ here for the purpose of tryin’ to catch a husband!

Hel. Oh, mother, I am so glad. Now, then, if a man comes here and is introduced as Mr. Percy Heartache, you will know what to do.

Susan. Yes; I’ll call Miss Renwick right away.

[19]

Enter Trotwell Roamer, L.

Roam. Is this the High Up Farm?

Susan. Yes; what do you want?

Roam. (setting down paint pots and brushes). I’m the painter.

Susan (looking at Percy). The painter?

Roam. Yes, my boss sent me over here to paint a boat for Mr. Rodney.

Percy (smiling at the two). I think this man might fill the bill. Shall I ask him?

Hel. (eagerly). Yes, ask him, Percy. I am sure he would be just the one. He is a painter, too. Think of it! (Laughs.)

Roam. Well, maybe I am an artist, then. Does that sound any better?

Hel. Much better, sir. You’ll surely do.

Roam. Oh! I’ll paint the boat, all right. Where is she?

Hel. In the house. But you don’t want to see her yet. Wait until you understand what we want you to do.

(Susan goes to churn and begins churning.)

Roam. (looking at Percy). What’s all this, anyhow? You ain’t tryin’ to jolly me, are you?

Percy. Not a bit, my friend. See here! Do you want to earn five dollars?

Roam. Do I? Don’t I look as though I did? Why, I’ve been trampin’ for three weeks without findin’ a job. I hit the village over here last night an’ happened to land with Styles, the boss painter. This morning he found out that I was all right, so he sent me over here to paint a boat. But I didn’t think the boat was in the house. (Looks at Hel.)

Hel. The boat isn’t in the house. Percy, go on and tell him.

Percy. Mr. What’s-Your-Name——

Roam. Trotwell Roamer is my name, boss.

Percy. Well, Mr. Trotwell Roamer, there is a young lady in the house who is expecting a call from a young man she has never seen. She is looking for a husband, and she will no doubt be dead struck on you, if you take the part.

Roam. (looking at his overalls and ragged coat and laughing).[20] Well, I don’t know why she wouldn’t be, boss. But go ahead with your game. Let me see the color of that five-spot first. Then I’ll feel more like listenin’ to you.

Percy (producing a five-dollar bill). There you are. Now, then, is it a go?

Roam. You bet it is. But say! there ain’t no danger of a breach of promise suit in this, is there?

Percy (laughing). I hardly think so. Now, to be brief about it, all you have got to do is to say that you are Percy Heartache, the artist. You can say it to any one you meet, for that matter. But the young lady—Hattie Renwick is her name—is the party the joke is to be on. She has been corresponding with you, you know, and has thrown out her net to catch you for a husband. Do you understand?

Roam. (shaking his head). Putty well, boss. I’m Percy Heartache, the artist, an’ she’s tryin’ to nail me for a husband. Yes, that’s all right.

Percy. Well, take this note, then. It will help you out, I think.

Roam. I guess I can fill the bill, boss. Leave it to me. I’ll bet that young lady won’t want no artist for a husband after she’s talked to me a while. I’ll settle her matrimonial aspirations, all right. Give me that five-spot, an’ the thing will be done in fine shape.

Percy (handing him the five-dollar bill). I am sure you’ll do it right, Mr. Roamer.

Roam. (strutting about). Mr. Percy Heartache, please. There’s my name, sir! (Holds out envelope that is addressed to Percy.) I’m Percy Heartache, the artist, an’ here’s my paints an’ brushes. Artist, eh? Well, I guess!

Susan (ceasing her churning). Come, Helen, help me take the churn in the kitchen.

Hel. All right, mother.

Percy. Now, my friend, I’ll take a stroll around and leave you here. The chances are that the young lady will soon appear. If she does not, go and knock at the door and inquire[21] for her. I will be near at hand to see and hear the fun. If you carry it through right I’ll give you another five.

Roam. Gee! You bet I’ll do it right, boss. Another five, eh? Why, I certainly am in luck.     [Exit Percy, C.

Enter Bill, carrying empty pail and blowing on harmonica.

Bill. Hello! You’re ther man what’s come over to paint the boat, ain’t yer? (Looks at paint cans.)

Roam. (haughtily). I am Percy Heartache, the artist.

Bill (laughing loudly and wiping harmonica on sleeve and putting in pocket). You ain’t ther painter, then?

Roam. No, I am the artist. Can you tell me where I can find Miss Hattie Renwick?

Bill (ignoring the question and pointing to paint cans). Who does ther paint an’ brushes belong to?

Roam. The painter, I suppose. He was here a little while ago. But see here, you thick-head! Where is the young lady who wrote this letter to me?

Bill. Which one? There is two of ’em. So you’re ther artist, eh? Well, I took two letters to ther post-office that was addressed to Percy Heartache. I know I did, ’cause I kin read, an’ I read ’em over a dozen times. One was from Helen an’ ther other was from Daisy.

Roam. Who is Daisy?

Bill. Hattie Renwick is her right name. But I call her Daisy—or Peach, ’cause she don’t like Daisy so well. I tell yer, Mr. Artist! she’s a daisy an’ a peach, too. But I didn’t think no sech scarecrow as you was the one she wrote to.

Roam. (angrily). What do you mean by calling me a scarecrow? Just because I have my working clothes on have I got to be insulted?

Bill (stepping back in a frightened way). Never mind, Mr. Artist. Don’t hit me. I didn’t mean nothin’. If you want me to call Miss Renwick I’ll do it for you.

Roam. All right. Do so. But don’t let any one else in the house know that the artist is here. You fetch Miss Renwick out, an’ when I get some change I’ll give you a quarter.

(Shows Bill the five-dollar bill Percy gave him.)

Bill (starting for house). My! He’s got money, all right. But blamed if I kin understand what Helen an’ Daisy wrote letters to him for. Why, he looks like a regular tramp.

[22]

Roam. (menacingly). What’s that?

Bill. Nothin’, Mr. Artist. I’ll have the peach out here in a jiffy.

Roam. Well, this is funny business, an’ no mistake. What am I up against, anyhow? But it’s all right. I’ve got one five-spot, an’ there is another one comin’, if I do ther job right. You bet I’m ther one who kin do it, too. I ought to be an actor, instead of a tramp painter. (Starts.) Hello! here comes the girl, I suppose. That thick-headed boy has found her, all right. Now to paralyze her. (Enter Bill and Hat., R. Roam. rises and bows.) How are you, sweetness?

Hat. (in dismay). Who are you, sir?

Roam. Percy Heartache, the artist, at your service, my own love.

Bill (laughing uproariously). That’s who he is, Peach. Ain’t he a reg’lar dude?

Hat. (clasping her hands). Well, I never!

Bill. Neither did I, Peach. But here he is. You sent for him, he says, so it ain’t none of my business. (To Roam., sotto voce.) Don’t forgit that quarter when you git that bill changed.

Roam. (striking an attitude). Avaunt! Quit my sight, thou silly buffoon! Leave me alone in the presence of my adored one.     [Exit Bill, L.

Hat. Oh, oh, oh!

Roam. (dropping on knees before her). Fear not, fair one. You surely have not forgotten the words of love and devotion that have passed between us in correspondence. Listen! I am not what I am! Once I have cast aside my working clothes and appear in the costly raiment that fits so well my youthful form you would not know me. I am in disguise, my darling Hattie! Oh! come to my arms, my loved one! Who would have dreamed that such bliss could exist upon this mundane sphere? (Rises.)

Hat. (stepping back and facing audience). Can it be that he has donned this disguise simply to try me? It must be. I will listen to him, for he speaks as no other man has ever done to me. (To Roam.) My dear Mr. Heartache, though I am somewhat surprised to meet you in such attire, I will frankly say that I like your manner of speech. You have undoubtedly[23] disguised yourself as a common laborer or tramp for the purpose of learning the true depths of my affection for you. It is all right, Percy. Proceed with your lovely words of conversation. I can see that you would really be a handsome young man if you donned your proper attire and—and—treated yourself to a bath.

Roam. (aside). Great Scott! This business ain’t working the way I thought it would. The first thing I know I’ll be in a breach of promise suit, sure. But maybe that would be a better suit than the one I am now wearing, so I’ll see it through if I bust!

Hat. (smiling). Sit down on the bench, Mr. Heartache.

Luc. (aside). Mr. Heartache! Why, that must be the artist Helen is infatuated with. Well, what is the girl thinking about? Why, that fellow is nothing but a tramp. They say listeners never hear any good of themselves, but I am going to hear this through, or know the reason why.

Roam. (sitting down). Well, what do you want me to do now?

Hat. Talk like you did a little while ago.

(Sits down beside him.)

Roam. An’ call you darlin’, an’ all that?

Hat. Yes, please.

Bill (hardly able to restrain himself, going through all sorts of motions). If this ain’t a circus there never was one.

Roam. Well, darlin’, how have yer been since I saw you last?

Hat. Since you saw me last? Why, you never saw me before.

Roam. I mean how have you been since you heard from me last?

Hat. Oh, fine.

Roam. So have I. I am sorry I put on my working clothes, for I would like to give you a good hug.

Hat. No such liberties yet, Percy.

[24]

Roam. Well, if I go back an’ put on my good clothes will it be all right?

Hat. It might. But don’t go yet.

Roam. (looking at audience despairingly). All right, my love.

Hat. There! That sounds real nice.

Roam. What does?

Hat. What you just said.

Roam. Does it, darling?

Hat. Oh, my! I really wish you had not worn your working clothes, Percy.

Roam. (looking at his overalls and shaking his head). Well, what was I going to do? I can take these off, though.

Hat. Oh! you look much better already, Percy.

Roam. Yes; I borrowed these trousers of my boss—I mean I loaned a good pair of trousers to a man I have working for me.

Hat. Oh! I see.

Roam. I’m a reg’lar dude when I’m fixed up, dear. Shall I give you a good hug now?

Hat. Not yet, please. But say! you must paint lovely pictures.

Roam. I do, dearest.

Hat. I should like to have you paint me some time.

Roam. I’ll be pleased to. Who did the job for you to-day?

Hat. (sharply). What is that, sir?

Roam. A bum artist did the job, I’m sure. Too much vermilion.

Hat. What are you talking about?

Roam. I was thinking of a picture a rival of mine painted. I must have expressed my thoughts aloud.

Hat. Oh! is that it?

Roam. Yes, dearest. Now, if you’ll only name the happy day I’ll hurry back to my hotel and get togged out a little. I can be back in an hour. (Rises.) Shall I leave word at the preacher’s and tell him we’ll soon be there?

[25]

Hat. What are you talking about?

Roam. Getting married. I’m ready right now.

Hat. I shall have to know more about you before I think of taking such a serious step as that.

Roam. Didn’t you advertise for a husband?

Hat. Well, I—er—suppose I did.

Roam. (striking an attitude). Well, here he is. If you want me for better or worse, just say the word. I’ll surely die, though, if you say no.

(Edges toward C., to take a hasty departure.)

Hat. (divining his intention). Hold on, Percy Heartache! You cannot trifle with me this way. If you think you are having a joke with me, I tell you plainly that you have gone too far. You have proposed to me, and I shall hold you to it. My answer to your proposal is that I must have a short time to think.

Roam. (starting toward overalls and paint cans). I guess I had better get away from here.

Hat. (springing forward and catching with both hands). You proposed to me, and you shall not go until I have given my answer.

Roam. Let go, girl. This is only a joke.

Luc. (rushing toward him, brandishing parasol). Joke, eh? Well, I will appear as a witness against you. You are a rascal to trifle with a poor girl like that. I heard all your conversation, sir.

Bill (appearing). Me, too! Don’t marry that man, Peach. He ain’t nothin’ more than a tramp.

QUICK CURTAIN

Enter Percy. Looks about searchingly.

Percy. I am too late, I see. I guess, by the shouting, and the loud talk I heard, something must have happened. They must have chased the tramp. Well, I wonder how Miss Renwick liked the artist she was so anxious to meet? I hope she won’t show up while I am here. If she does it might be a little awkward. But I have it! I’ll let Helen introduce me as Mr. Roamer, if she does come. I have as much right to take the tramp’s name as he had to take mine. That will be all right. I’ll speak to Helen about it right away. (Looks at paint cans and overalls.) I may as well put these things out of sight. Perhaps Trotwell Roamer will come back and get them later. (Picks up paint cans and overalls and starts to C.)

Enter Hiram and Hickory Homespun, L.

Hiram. Well, Hick, if you make up your mind to take that cow you can have her for forty dollars. She’s dirt cheap at that, an’ I wouldn’t think of selling her if——Hello! (Sees Percy standing near C., with paint cans and overalls in his hands.) So you’ve got here, have you?

Percy. Why—er—yes. You are Mr. Rodney, Helen’s father, are you not?

Hiram. That’s right. Have you seen her yet?

(Means the boat that is to be painted.)

Percy. Yes, sir, I have seen her.

Hiram (thinking Percy is surely the painter sent over by Jim Styles to paint the boat). Well, what do you think of her? Are you going to start in to-day? It seems a little late. But maybe you’ve just brought over your paint, so you can start in the first thing in the morning.

Percy (looking at what he has in his hands, and very much confused). Why, I—er——

Hiram. That’s all right. To-morrer mornin’ will do. I[27] guess she can wait till that time. But say, young feller, you must go easy when you tip her over, ’cause her stays might break. They’re pretty old, and I don’t want to put no more expense on her than I kin help.

Percy (aside). Heavens! What is the man driving at? He must be crazy! To speak of his own daughter in this way! What does it mean?

(Backs toward R., still holding cans and overalls.)

Hiram. Where are you goin’? Come on over to the lake, and we’ll look her over together. (Turns to Hick.) You come, too, Hick.

Hick. Certain I will, Hiram.

Percy (much confused). I—er—think there must be some mistake.

Hiram. Mistake, eh? Well, I guess not. You was sent for, wasn’t you?

Percy. Yes, but——

Hiram. Maybe you don’t like the looks of her.

Percy. Oh, yes, I do, Mr. Rodney. She is the nicest——

Hick. (laughing heartily). He ain’t much of a judge, is he, Hiram?

Hiram. Well, I don’t know. He looks as though he ought to know a good model from a bad one. But say. (Nods to Percy.) If you feel like it, and think it ain’t too late, you might start in to scrapin’ the paint off her sides right now. You’ll find she’s pretty well roughed up; but you can fix that all right. You’ll have to go a bit careful when you come to the waist. She’s been layin’ on one side so long that I s’pose the sun has done some damage. Most likely she’s blistered a little.

Percy. Blistered!

Hick. Blistered, of course. There ain’t nothing strange about that, is there?

Hiram. Jim Styles told you it was to be white outside and yaller inside, didn’t he?

Percy (stepping back and turning to audience). Ah! Now I know there is a mistake. He does not refer to his daughter at all. (To Hiram.) Pardon me, Mr. Rodney, but to whom or what are you referring?

Hiram (turning to Hick. and showing surprise). Well, what do you think of that, Hick?

Hick. Must be a born fool.

[28]

Hiram. He don’t know what he was sent over here for, it seems.

Hick. Seems not. (Nods head gravely.) He don’t look like a painter, anyhow, Hiram.

Hiram. But he’s got everything with him to do the job.

Percy. I did not come here to do any work. These things (setting them down near C.) belong to another party. I just picked them up to set them aside as you came here. I am not a painter, but an artist.

Hick. Well, I swan!

Hiram (showing surprise). So you didn’t come here to paint our boat, then?

Percy (much relieved). I certainly did not, sir.

Hiram. What did you come here for?

Percy. I came at the invitation of your daughter Helen.

Hiram. Jumpin’ bullfrogs! What do you think of that, Hick?

Hick. Sort of a misunderstandin’, it seems. (He laughs.) He thought you was speakin’ of Helen, and you was meanin’ the old boat all the time. (Laughs uproariously.) Oh, dear! What a joke.

Percy. Well, I am very sorry that such a mistake should be made. But I can easily understand now. It is rather unfortunate, but no harm has been done.

Hiram. Not as I knows of, young fellow. So Helen invited you to come over, did she?

Percy. Yes, she did.

Hiram. Well, I reckon I had better call her out, then. (Calls to R.) Helen! Helen!

Hel. (unseen by audience). What is it, father?

Hiram. You’re wanted here right away.

Enter Hel., R. Percy hurries to meet her.

Percy (sotto voce). Introduce me as Mr. Roamer. The Peach might come back and spoil things, you know.

Hel. (sotto voce). All right, Percy, I understand. (Then to Hiram.) Well, father?

Hiram. This young man came over to see you, he says.

Hel. Yes, I know. Let me introduce you to him, father. (Turns to Percy.) Mr. Roamer, this is my father. (Percy and Hiram shake hands. Hel. to Hick.) Mr. Homespun, let me make you acquainted with Mr. Roamer, the painter—(becoming confused) or artist, which? (Looks at Percy.)

[29]

Percy (laughingly). Which, I guess. (Shakes with Hick.)

Hick. What do you think, Helen? Your father was talkin’ about havin’ his boat scraped an’ painted, an’ this young man thought he was meanin’ you all the time. Funny mistake, wasn’t it? (Laughs heartily.)

Hel. I should say it was a funny mistake, Hick. How did it happen, father?

Hiram. Well, I was expectin’ a painter to come over to paint the boat white outside and yaller inside, an’ when I seen this young man standin’ here with them things (pointing to cans and overalls) in his hands, I thought he was the man. I didn’t know he had come over on an invite from you. But (looking at the table) what’s goin’ on, anyhow? What have you got the table set outside for?

Hel. Oh! we are going to have a little party. Mother thought it would be a good idea to have some company over, so the new boarder wouldn’t be lonesome. (Turns to Hick.) The widow is here, too, Hick.

Hick. (looking around in a startled way). Where is she, Helen?

Hel. (laughing). Around somewhere. We are going to have a very nice time, I am sure.

Hick. (edging toward C.). I’m goin’ home.

Hiram (catching him by the arm). No, you don’t, Hick! You ain’t afraid of the widder any more than I am. You are goin’ to stay right here an’ have tea with us. Besides, I want to sell you that cow before you go home.

Hick. Well, I’ll take her, Hiram.

Hel. (laughing). The widow, Hick?

Hick. (excitedly). No! The cow, I mean. I’ll be over after her in the mornin’.

(Tries to go again, but is restrained by Hiram.)

Hiram. Now, see here, Hick Homespun. The trouble with you is that you’re a lot too bashful. You know well enough that you ought to have somebody around that nice little home of yours to cook your meals an’ fetch your slippers for you nights when you come in after doin’ a hard day’s work. There’s the Widder Wheatchaff for you, Hick! She’s a fine little woman, an’ I happen to know that she thinks a powerful lot of you, too.

Hick. (becoming interested). How do you know that?

Hiram. Well, I reckon I’ve got eyes an’ ears. (Slaps[30] Hick, on the back.) Come! brace up, old feller. You wasn’t born to die an old bachelor.

Hick. (meditating for a moment). Well, I’ll take her. I’ll be over after her in the mornin’.

Hiram. Good enough! I’ll tell her just as soon as she comes out.

Hick. (protestingly). No, no! I mean the cow.

Hel. Tell the cow, then, father.

(All laugh but Hick.)

Enter Bill, C., mopping face with bandana.

Bill. Whew! If that wasn’t a run! I never had so much fun in my life! Can’t that city gal run, though! Why, she went through the corn-field like a two-year-old heifer on the rampage! That artist wasn’t no match for her at all. But he might have got away if he hadn’t stumbled an’ hit his head agin a pile of fence rails. She’s got him! Lucinda is helpin’ her bring him back. There’s goin’ to be a breach of promise suit. Wow!

Hiram (surprised and angered). What in thunderation is the matter with the boy?

Hick. Acts as though he’s been took with a fit.

Hel. (taking Hiram by the sleeve). I think I know what is the matter, father. It seems that our boarder made an appointment with some man she had never seen in her life, though she had corresponded with him, of course. He proposed to her, and when he found she was willing to consider it he changed his mind and tried to get away. She gave pursuit, and Bill and Lucinda, who happened to be here, helped her catch him. Miss Renwick is anxious to marry some one, and after corresponding with the man she set her cap for him before she had even seen him. Mother and I came out on the porch in time to hear the last of it. Don’t interfere, father. Let them bring the man here. I am sure you will laugh when you understand what a joke it is.

[31]

Hiram (looking at Hick.). Well, I swan!

Hick. So do I, Hiram.

Bill (getting upon his feet). Me, too!

Percy (whispering in Hiram’s ear). You understand, Mr. Rodney.

Hiram. Well, I’ll be gum-swizzled! If that don’t beat all.

Hick. (looking toward C.). Here they come now. (Edges away.) I guess I’ll be goin’. I’ll be over after her in the mornin’, Hiram.

Hiram (catching him). No, you won’t, Hick. You kin take her home to-night.

Hick. You’ll have to lend me a rope, then.

Hiram (laughing). Oh, you won’t need no rope—not for the widder.

Bill. Might need one to hang himself with after he gits her.

(Laughs boisterously and executes funny business.)

Percy (to Hel.). A sort of roping-in game, I think.

Hel. It surely is.

Enter Susan, R. Excited voices outside at C.

Susan. What’s going on here? What does all this excitement mean, anyhow?

Hel. (running to Susan). Mother, the joke is not over with yet. It seems that Miss Renwick took it seriously, and she has caught the tramp. She is fetching him here, and Lucinda is helping her. Bill says it is a case of a breach of promise suit.

Susan. Well, I never! That girl must be a fool.

Hel. She wants a man, mother.

Susan (shaking her head). Well, she must want one pretty bad, then.

Hel. Now remember, mother, Percy is supposed to be Mr. Roamer.

Susan. And the tramp is supposed to be Mr. Heartache?

Hel. Of course. He introduced himself that way, so it will remain so until Miss Renwick gets enough of it.

[32]

Percy (running to C.). What does this mean?

Enter Hat. and Luc., C., dragging Roam. with them.

Luc. The base deceiver!

Hat. (letting go of Roam. and wringing her hands excitedly). Oh! Oh!

Hiram. That must be the man Styles sent over to paint the boat.

Roam. (eagerly). I’m the man, boss. Just get me away from these women and I’ll go right to work.

Luc. (letting go her hold upon Roam., and looking surprised). But he proposed to Miss Renwick, Hiram.

Roam. That was a joke. (Looks at Percy, who shakes finger warningly.) I found a letter she had written to some one, and I made out I was the man. I’m only a common tramp painter. She don’t want me for a husband, unless she feels like earning the livin’.

Hat. (throwing up her hands and staggering about as though she is going to fall). Oh! I shall faint—I know I will. Somebody catch me—quick!

Hick. (starting forward to catch her). Don’t fall, miss.

Luc. (grabbing Hick. by the collar and pulling him back). Let her fall, if she wants to. The first thing you know she will be trying to make you propose to her.

Hick. (meekly). All right, Lucinda.

Hat. (making another stagger about). Oh! Oh! I know I shall faint.

(She falls and Bill catches her and carries her to a bench.)

Bill (soothingly). That’s all right, Peach. I’ll marry you when I git big enough. You don’t want no lazy tramp for a husband.

Hat. (rousing up and becoming indignant). The idea! Who said I wanted to marry any one? Why, I wouldn’t marry the best man living!

Luc. (to Hick., whom she is still holding). Good reason, maybe. She couldn’t get you, Hick, and I think you are the best man living.

Hick. (grinning). Do you mean that, Lucinda?

Luc. I always say what I mean, Hick Homespun.

Hick. Let’s go look at that cow.     [Exeunt Hick. and Luc., L.

[33]

Bill (roaring with laughter). She’s got him. Hick is a goner!

Hat. (to Susan). Mrs. Rodney, I think I will go to my room.

Susan (persuasively). Don’t do that, Miss Renwick. If there has been a joke played, take it good-naturedly.

Hat. How can I? (Looks around despairingly.)

Hel. Let me introduce you to Mr. Roamer, Miss Renwick.

Hat. (bowing stiffly). Pleased to meet him.

Bill (coming to Susan). Is supper ready yet, Missus Rodney?

Susan. Not yet, Bill.

Bill. S’pose we have a little dance, then? (Produces harmonica and clappers.) Take your partners for a quadrille, and look out for paint!

Enter Hick. and Luc., L. Both are smiling and look happy.

Hiram (seizing Susan). Come on, old gal! We’ll have a little square set right here on the lawn.

Roam. (as Percy points to Hat.). I suppose we may as well make up the set, Miss Renwick.

Bill. Salute your partners.

CURTAIN

THE NEW CRUSADE

A Comedy in Two Acts

By Rachel Baker Gale

Twelve females. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays one hour and thirty minutes. A very amusing satire of the servant girl question, brimful of telling incidents and effective lines. All the parts are good and of nearly equal opportunity, and practically play themselves. Well rehearsed, it is a sure success and goes with a scream. Irish, negro and Swede character parts and a “tough” girl. Strongly recommended for ladies’ clubs. Can be played only on payment of a royalty of $5.00 to the author.

Price, 25 cents

CHARACTERS

• Miss Morris, nothing if not businesslike.
• Mrs. Cogswell-Brown, who believes in coöperative housekeeping.
• Mrs. Potter-Hewitt, who looks small, but is not.
• Mrs. Raymond, who advocates “The New Crusade.”
• Mrs. Archibald Tracey, in search of a maid and experience.
• Bridgett Mahoney, in search of “an ould gintleman.”
• Mary Macguire, who likes “the theyatre in the winter toime.”
• Augusta Olsen, who comes from “Sveden for big monay.”
• Cassie Clay, who never “takes suggestions from anybody.”
• Jennie Burch, who never “has time for afternoon tea.”
• Matilda Johnson, who likes “slaughtermobiles and a choffer.”
• Merry, the settlement girl—who’s always “on de level.”

COATS AND PETTICOATS

A Comedy in One Act

By Rachel Baker Gale

One male (played by a woman), seven females, and if desired, sixteen girls for chorus. Costumes, modern; scene, an interior. Plays forty-five minutes. A very lively and amusing piece introducing fancy dresses, music and dancing. All the parts of about equal opportunity. Irish comedy part and two capital “old maids.” Very funny and not difficult. Complete with music for the Suffragettes’ song and march and the Old Maids’ song and march. Very strongly recommended.

Price, 25 cents

AN EASY MARK

A Farce in One Act

By Innis Gardner Osborn

Five males, two females. Costumes, modern; scene, an easy interior. Plays thirty-five minutes. A side-splitting farce of college life lively enough to suit the most exacting demands. Full of funny incident and telling lines. Burlesque actor and “tough” young man parts; the rest “straight” and all good. Recommended for schools.

Price, 15 cents.

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 entertaining; can be recommended for school performance.

Price, 25 cents

CHARACTERS

• David Bainbridge, editor of the Elmwood “Item.”
• 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, David’s wife.
• 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

Seven 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, 15 cents

THE SISTERHOOD OF BRIDGET

A Farce in Three Acts

By Robert Elwin Ford

Seven males, six females. Costumes modern; scenery, easy interiors. Plays two hours. An easy, effective and very humorous piece turning upon the always interesting servant-girl question. A very unusual number of comedy parts; all the parts good. Easy to get up and well recommended.

Price, 25 cents

CHARACTERS

• Edward Mason, a wealthy stockbroker.
• Lord Curton, in search of a wife with money.
• Ward Leighton, lieutenant of the 176th Regiment.
• Mike McShane, driver of a milk cart.
• Jimmy Macrae, page at Mr. Mason’s.
• Mrs. Mason, socialist and æsthete.
• Eleanor Mason, her daughter.
• Bridget, the cook.
• Josie Riley,
• } housemaids.
• Emma Hone,
• Mary Macrae, Jimmy’s sister.
• Timothy Rouke, house painter.
• William, butler at Mr. Mason’s.

THE ALL-AMERICA ELEVEN

By M. N. Beebe

Twelve males. Costumes modern; scenery unnecessary. Plays fifteen minutes. An up-to-date and popular entertainment for boys in one scene, sure to please both the boys and the audience. Characters: Football Boy, Baseball Boy, Tennis Boy, Office Boy, Messenger Boy, Country Boy, Chinese Boy, Jewish Boy, Irish Boy, Indian Boy, Negro Boy and Trainer.

Price, 15 cents

TAKING THE THIRD DEGREE IN THE GRANGE

By A. C. Daniels

Seventeen males. Costumes eccentric; scenery unnecessary. Plays ten minutes. A burlesque initiation in one act, especially adapted for a Grange entertainment. Very simple, very clean and wholly lacking in horse-play and acrobatics. Well suited for its purpose.

Price, 15 cents

OUR CHURCH FAIR

A Farcical Entertainment in Two Acts

By Jessie A. Kelley

Twelve females. Costumes modern; scenery unimportant. Plays an hour and a quarter. A humorous picture of the planning of the annual church fair by the ladies of the sewing circle. Full of local hits and general human nature, and a sure laugh-producer in any community. Can be recommended.

Price, 25 cents

CHARACTERS

• Mrs. Roberts, who wants to be president.
• Mrs. Henry, young, giddy, fond of novels.
• Mrs. Jackson, the president of the society.
• Mrs. Brett, on the dinner committee.
• Mrs. Lewis, the minister’s wife.
• Mrs. Lawson, plump.
• Mrs. Brown, anxious to get new church attendants.
• Mrs. Addison, very inquisitive.
• Mrs. Ridgely, sensitive.
• Mrs. Otis, on the dinner committee.
• Mrs. Thompson, decidedly close.
• Mrs. Drew, just married.

THE RIVAL CHOIRS

An Entertainment in One Scene

By Sherman F. Johnson

Seven males, four females. Costumes eccentric; scenery unimportant. Plays one hour. A novelty in musical entertainments, introducing the old choir and the new in competition. A novel setting for a concert, offering an interesting contrast between the old music and the new. Lots of incidental fun, character and human nature. Sure to please. Originally produced in Meriden, Conn.

Price, 25 cents

A THIEF IN THE HOUSE

A Comedy in One Act

By R. M. Robinson

Six males, one playing a female character (colored). Costumes modern scenery, an interior. Plays forty-five minutes. A first-class play for male characters only, of strong dramatic interest with plenty of comedy. A play that can be recommended, in spite of its lack of female characters, to any audience.

Price, 25 cents

THE TIME OF HIS LIFE

A Comedy in Three Acts

By C. Leona Dalrymple

Six males, three females. Costumes modern; scenery, two interiors, or can be played in one. Plays two hours and a half. A side-splitting piece, full of action and a sure success if competently acted. Tom Carter’s little joke of impersonating the colored butler has unexpected consequences that give him “the time of his life.” Very highly recommended for High School performance.

Price, 25 cents

CHARACTERS

• Mr. Bob Grey.
• Mrs. Bob Grey.
• Tom Carter, Mrs. Grey’s brother.
• Mrs. Peter Wycombe, a “personage.”
• Mr. Peter Wycombe, a “pessimist” with a digestion.
• Dorothy Landon, secretly engaged to Tom Carter.
• Mr. James Landon, Sr., Dorothy’s father; of a peppery disposition.
• Uncle Tom, an old colored butler from the South.
• Officer Hogan, of the Twenty-Second Street Police Station.

EETHER OR EYTHER

A Farce in One Act

By Robert C. V. Meyers

Four males, four females. Costumes modern; scene, an interior. Plays thirty minutes. A clever parlor play, similar in idea to the popular “Obstinate Family.” Sure to please.

Price, 15 cents

THE MORNING AFTER THE PLAY

A Comedy in One Act

By Willis Steell

Two males, three females. Costumes modern; scene, an interior. Plays twenty minutes. An easy piece of strong dramatic interest, originally produced in Vaudeville by Christy Clifford. Free to amateurs; royalty required for professional performance.

Price, 15 cents

TAKING THE CENSUS IN BINGVILLE

An Entertainment in One Act

By Jessie A. Kelly

Fourteen males, eight females. Costumes, modern; scenery, unimportant. Plays an hour and a half. One of the always popular go-as-you-please entertainments; just a lot of laughs strung on a very slender wire of story. Full of eccentric character bits and chances for local hits. A sure success for the laughter-loving. Recommended for church societies or intimate communities.

Price, 25 cents

CHARACTERS

• Census Taker.
• Rosy Grady, an Irish maid.
• Patrick Malone, a policeman who didn’t want to be examined.
• Bill Watt, not so bright, but still gets ahead of them all.
• Mr. Harder, chauffeur.
• Mr. Knott, aeronaut.
• Mr. Stone, farmer who has rheumatiz.
• Mrs. Jones, a much married woman.
• Mr. Saloon, a barber who is “Henglish.”
• Dr. Duncan.
• Mrs. Tibbets, who tries to be young.
• Mr. Single, an editor.
• Mr. Jepson, a grocer-postmaster.
• Mrs. Sampson, who has a large family.
• Mr. More, an undertaker.
• Mrs. Murphy, who is proud of her name.
• Miss Hartley, a teacher.
• Mr. Sharp, a lawyer who is looking for clients.
• Tony, a fruit dealer.
• Mr. Elwood, a minister.
• Mrs. Stone, a farmer’s wife who is afraid she has hookworm.
• Susie Gibbs, who is love-sick.

THE DAY OF THE DUCHESS

A Farce in One Act

By Alice C. Thompson

Twelve females. Costumes, modern; scenery, an easy interior. Plays thirty minutes. A clever and amusing little play for all girls, particularly suited for schools because of its number of small parts. Requires only three or four prominent people. Recommended.

Price, 15 cents

AN IRISH INVASION

A Comedy in One Act

By Alice C. Thompson

Eight females. Costumes, modern; scenery, an easy interior. Plays thirty minutes. A very pretty and touching little play with plenty of fun introducing refined Irish characters, old country and new. A most original and effective idea, and sure to please. Nothing coarse and rough about it; tone high and well suited for schools.

Price, 15 cents