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Title: After Taps

Author: Rachel Baker Gale
        George M. Baker

Release date: June 27, 2015 [eBook #49295]

Language: English

Credits: Produced by David Edwards, Gonçalo Silva and the Online
        Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
        file was produced from images generously made available
        by The Internet Archive)


*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AFTER TAPS ***




Produced by David Edwards, Gonçalo Silva and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
file was produced from images generously made available
by The Internet Archive)









  THE
  GLOBE
  DRAMA

  ALL THE WORLD'S
  A STAGE


  AFTER TAPS


  BOSTON:
  WALTER H. BAKER & CO.
  NO. 23 WINTER STREET.

  Copyright 1876 by GEORGE M. BAKER


         {=SHAMROCK AND ROSE.= Four Acts. Ten characters.     Price, 25c.
         {=IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP.= Three Acts. Ten characters.  Price, 15c.
         {=OUT OF HIS SPHERE.= Three Acts. Eight characters.  Price, 15c.
  NEW    {=ANITA'S TRIAL.= Three Acts. =For All Girls.=       Price, 25c.
  PLAYS. {=A RICE PUDDING.= Two Acts. Five characters.        Price, 25c.
         {=AN AUTOGRAPH LETTER.= Three Acts. Ten characters.  Price, 25c.
         {=THE WAY TO HIS POCKET.= One Act. Five characters.  Price, 15c.
         {=THE BAT AND THE BALL.= One Act. Seven characters.  Price, 15c.




Plays for Amateur Theatricals.

BY GEORGE M. BAKER,

_Author of “Amateur Dramas,” “The Mimic Stage,” “The Social Stage,”
“The Drawing-Room Stage,” “Handy Dramas,” “The Exhibition Dramas,” “A
Baker's Dozen,” etc._

  =Titles in this Type are New Plays.=
  _Titles in this Type are Temperance Plays._


DRAMAS.

_In Four Acts._

  =Better than Gold.= 7 male, 4 female char.                   25

_In Three Acts._

  =Our Folks.= 6 male, 5 female char.                          15
  =The Flower of the Family.= 5 male, 3 female char.           15
  ENLISTED FOR THE WAR. 7 male, 3 female char.                 15
  MY BROTHER'S KEEPER. 5 male, 3 female char.                  15
  =_The Little Brown Jug._= 5 male, 3 female char.             15

_In Two Acts._

  =Above the Clouds.= 7 male, 3 female char.                   15
  =One Hundred Years Ago.= 7 male, 4 female char.              15
  AMONG THE BREAKERS. 6 male, 4 female char.                   15
  BREAD ON THE WATERS. 5 male, 3 female char.                  15
  DOWN BY THE SEA. 6 male, 3 female char.                      15
  ONCE ON A TIME. 4 male, 2 female char.                       15
  =_The Last Loaf._= 5 male, 3 female char.                    15

_In One Act._

  STAND BY THE FLAG. 5 male char.                              15
  =_The Tempter._= 3 male, 1 female char.                      15


COMEDIES AND FARCES.

  =A Mysterious Disappearance.= 4 male, 3 female char.         15
  =Paddle Your Own Canoe.= 7 male 3 female char.               15
  =_A Drop too Much._= 4 male, 2 female char.                  15
  =_A Little More Cider._= 5 male, 3 female char.              15
  A THORN AMONG THE ROSES. 2 male, 6 female char.              15
  NEVER SAY DIE. 3 male, 3 female char.                        15
  SEEING THE ELEPHANT. 6 male, 3 female char.                  15
  THE BOSTON DIP. 4 male, 3 female char.                       15
  THE DUCHESS OF DUBLIN. 6 male, 4 female char.                15
  THIRTY MINUTES FOR REFRESHMENTS. 4 male, 3 female char.      15
  =_We're all Teetotalers._= 4 male, 2 female char.            15

_Male Characters Only._

  A CLOSE SHAVE. 6 char.                                       15
  A PUBLIC BENEFACTOR. 6 char.                                 15
  A SEA OF TROUBLES. 8 char.                                   15
  A TENDER ATTACHMENT. 7 char.                                 15
  COALS OF FIRE. 6 char.                                       15
  FREEDOM OF THE PRESS. 8 char.                                15
  =Shall Our Mothers Vote?= 11 char.                           15
  GENTLEMEN OF THE JURY. 12 char.                              15
  HUMORS OF THE STRIKE. 8 char.                                15
  MY UNCLE THE CAPTAIN. 6 char.                                15
  NEW BROOMS SWEEP CLEAN. 6 char.                              15
  THE GREAT ELIXIR. 9 char.                                    15
  THE HYPOCHONDRIAC. 3 char.                                   15
  =_The Man with the Demijohn._= 4 char.                       15
  THE RUNAWAYS. 4 char.                                        15
  THE THIEF OF TIME. 6 char.                                   15
  WANTED, A MALE COOK. 4 char.                                 15

_Female Characters Only._

  A LOVE OF A BONNET. 5 char.                                  15
  A PRECIOUS PICKLE. 6 char.                                   15
  NO CURE NO PAY. 7 char.                                      15
  THE CHAMPION OF HER SEX. 8 char.                             15
  THE GREATEST PLAGUE IN LIFE. 8 char.                         15
  THE GRECIAN BEND. 7 char.                                    15
  THE RED CHIGNON. 6 char.                                     15
  USING THE WEED. 7 char.                                      15


ALLEGORIES.

_Arranged for Music and Tableaux._

  LIGHTHART'S PILGRIMAGE. 8 female char.                       15
  THE REVOLT OF THE BEES. 9 female char.                       15
  THE SCULPTOR'S TRIUMPH. 1 male, 4 female char.               15
  THE TOURNAMENT OF IDYLCOURT. 10 female char.                 15
  THE WAR OF THE ROSES. 8 female char.                         15
  THE VOYAGE OF LIFE. 8 female char.                           15


MUSICAL AND DRAMATIC.

  AN ORIGINAL IDEA. 1 male, 1 female                           15
  BONBONS; OR, THE PAINT KING. 6 male, 1 female char.          25
  CAPULETTA; OR, ROMEO AND JULIET
    RESTORED. 3 male, 1 female char.                           15
  SANTA CLAUS' FROLICS.                                        15
  SNOW-BOUND; OR, ALONZO THE BRAVE,
    AND THE FAIR IMOGENE. 3 male, 1 female char.               25
  THE MERRY CHRISTMAS OF THE OLD
    WOMAN WHO LIVED IN A SHOE.                                 15
  THE PEDLER OF VERY NICE. 7 male char.                        15
  THE SEVEN AGES. A Tableau Entertainment.
    Numerous male and female char.                             15
  TOO LATE FOR THE TRAIN. 2 male char.                         15
  THE VISIONS OF FREEDOM. 11 female char.                      15




  AFTER TAPS


  A Drama in Three Acts


  COMPLETED BY
  RACHEL E. BAKER

  FROM NOTES AND UNFINISHED MANUSCRIPT OF THE LATE
  GEORGE M. BAKER


  BOSTON
  1891




CHARACTERS.


  GORDON GRAHAM                  _Colonel in Union Army_

  ROGER CARRUTH.

  PINKERTON POTTS                  _Major in Union Army_

  BIJAH BRIGHT                     _The Standard-bearer_

  RANDOLPH NEWCOMB                _A Southern gentleman_

  PETE                              _A small contraband_

  PATRICK KILROY                               _Private_

  RUTH GRAHAM                    _Colonel Graham's wife_

  DOROTHY GRAHAM               _Colonel Graham's sister_

  POLLY PRIMROSE.

  SOLDIERS AND GUARD IN ACT II.


  ACT I.—“Shot in the back.”

  ACT II.—“After Taps.”
    SCENE 1.—Noon.      SCENE 2.—Evening.

  ACT III.—“Home Again.”

Costumes of the period.


COPYRIGHT, 1891, BY RACHEL E. BAKER.




AFTER TAPS.




ACT I.

SHOT IN THE BACK.


SCENE.—_Handsome apartment in the house of_ COLONEL GRAHAM _in_
BALTIMORE. _Door opening into hall, centre. Wide window_, R.C. _Mantel
with fireplace_ L. _in flat. Glass over mantel. Door_ R. _in flat.
Table_ L.C. _Lamp on table, books. Chair beside table_ L. _Arm-chair
near mantel. Door_ L. _in flat. Curtain raised to tune of “Yankee
Doodle,” by drum and fife at head of a company of Union troops, seen
passing window._ POLLY PRIMROSE, _discovered with duster in hand,
alternately peeping out of window and dancing about stage, singing_.

POLLY (_sings_).

    “Father and I went down to camp,
      Along with Captain Gooding;
    And there we saw the girls and boys,
     As thick as hasty pudding.
    Yankee Doodle keep it up,
      Yankee Doodle Dandy,
    Mind the music and the steps,
      And with the girls be handy.”

(_Speaks._)

Another thousand of Maine's boys marching down into Dixie. Bless their
dear hearts! If this keeps on much longer, there will be none left for
the hopeful Down-East girls and full-blown spinsters, whose natural
expectations are warm corners in the hearts of these brave heroes.
What a queer lot of men. Some have left their sweethearts behind them,
I suppose. Heigho! There's no one to leave me behind. When I think
of the good times Down East, it just makes my mouth water. I'd give
a week's wages to catch a glimpse of some familiar face. (_Coming
down._) I wish I were a man. Nothing I'd like better than to join
those ranks and march with them; but here I must stay and dust chairs
(_dusts spitefully_) and tables. I know the military tic-tacs—no,
that isn't right. I mean tactics. (_Executes manual with duster._)
Present—arms—no—feathers. Order—feathers. Indeed, I'd like to,
for my next winter's bonnet, if there were only some one to pay the
bill. Right shoulder, feathers. (_Carries duster to left, in place of
right._) Ha, ha, if any one could see me now, they would take me for a
condensed, awkward squad. (_Music outside._ POLLY _marches up and down
with duster at right shoulder_.) I can feel the military thrill down to
the tips of my toes. Think of the excitement when the bugle calls, and
you hear the cry, “Charge feathers—charge!” (_Charges with duster at
door_ C., _into the face of_ BIJAH BRIGHT, _who appears with flag; he
is bespattered with mud_.)

BIJAH. Phew! pooh—ah, choh! (_Sneezes._) What are you trying to
do, smother a fellow? Giving us the great Othello act, with me as
Desdemona! (_Looks at_ POLLY.) Why, no!—yes, it is, Polly—Polly
Primrose.

POLLY. Bijah Bright! Well, I declare!

BIJAH (_taking both of_ POLLY'S _hands_). Why, the sight of you is good
for a pair of diseased optics.

POLLY. But why are you here in this house?

BIJAH. It must have been the magnetism of your bright eyes, Polly.
When I was marching along, I felt so drawn towards this house, sez
I to myself, sez I, here, Bijah, is the place to find rest for your
weary bones, and rations for an aching void. And, behold, I find you,
my long-lost treasure. (_Tries to embrace_ POLLY, _who steps aside_.)
Ah, Polly Primrose, the way you've played tag with that vital organ of
my being, the heart that beats for you alone, would frighten any other
man, but I've jest made up my mind,—

    “A sweetheart's a sweetheart,
      As all the world knows,
    And Polly's my Polly,
      Wherever she goes.”

POLLY. Don't be so sure of that, Mr. Bright. Don't flatter yourself
that you are the only man that calls me, “My Polly.”

BIJAH. Let me but find him. He'll wish he hadn't been born.

POLLY (_laughing_). Same Bijah Bright. Don't be worried
(_coquettishly_), for I think you will find me the same Polly.

BIJAH (_taking both her hands_). Wal, now, that's something like. When
the temperature of your society is at zero, it makes my very blood
congeal.

POLLY. Where did you come from?

BIJAH. Right from Oldtown, Polly, chuck full of patriotism and peace.

POLLY. Seems to me those two words don't jine well, Bijah. Patriotism
and fight make the best partnership.

BIJAH. The fighting is all wrong, Polly. Do you see that flag? You bet,
I'm proud of it. I've made a big wager that I can carry that flag from
Oldtown to New Orleans.

POLLY. How do you get along?

BIJAH. Thus far, swimmingly; from Oldtown to Baltimore has been a
triumphant march, but just here I've struck something.

POLLY. From the looks of that eye, and the mud on that coat, I should
say something had struck you. Bijah, you're a crank. Your peace and
flag won't stir anything down this way. If you are not both suspended
from a tree before you reach New Orleans, you may think yourself
lucky. If your wits were as sharp and dazzling as your name, you would
shoulder your gun and join that regiment.

BIJAH. Oh, Polly, you're way off. No such work for me. I am the
Standard Bearer. (_Takes flag._) Think of the glory that will shine
like a halo about my name. When posterity shall gently drop a tear for
memory's sake, and in the language of the poet thus speak of one you
knew so well:

    There was a youth named Bijah Bright,
    Who gloriously did lead the fight.
    No sword or musket carried he
    To shed life's blood on land or sea;
    His honest arm the flag did wave,
    And urging on the soldiers brave,
    The cause was won: a noble fight,
    And thanks are due to Bijah Bright.

POLLY (_beaming with admiration_). I declare, Bijah, jest as much of a
poet as ever. Do you remember some of your poetry at the exhibition of
the Oldtown School?

BIJAH. Indeed I do. When old Deacon Sasafrass visited the school he
always wanted something original; so, one day, thought I'd give it to
him. Let me think—yes, I have it. (_Recites with awkward gestures._)

    Our yaller hen has broke her leg,
    Oh, never more she'll lay an egg.
    The brindle cow has gone plumb dry,
    And sister Sue has spoiled a pie.
    Thus earth is full of sin and sorrow,
    We're here to-day and gone to-morrow.

Ha, ha, Polly! Those were good times in Oldtown. Do you remember them?

POLLY. Do I? Don't I?

BIJAH. When I thought you were the purtiest girl in town; when the
sight of you in your best bib and tucker made me feel as though there
were an ice-cream factory in full operation on one side, and a hot air
furnace on the other.

POLLY. Oh, Bijah!

BIJAH. But times are changed. The girls are changed, but you, Polly,
are still a purty—

POLLY. Oh, Bijah!

BIJAH. Old girl.

POLLY (_indignantly_). Bijah!

BIJAH. Now, don't get excited, Polly; I'm by no means a blooming flower
in the garden of youth myself. I've lived long enough to find out that
money is the root of all evil; that an old rat is more capable from
experience of keeping out of traps than a young one; that life may be
worth living, but it isn't worth much of anything else; that an old
sweetheart is at least a blessed memory; and so, when this cruel war is
over, I'm going to lay my heart at the feet of—Miss Polly Primrose.

POLLY. Oh, Bijah!

BIJAH. In the meantime, as I am rather hungry, a bite of something from
the cupboard wouldn't go bad.

POLLY. Then come with me.

BIJAH. Thanks, Polly; but before I accept of your hospitality, who is
the proprietor of this establishment?

POLLY. Colonel Gordon Graham.

BIJAH. What? You don't mean it. (_Aside._) Here's luck. (_Aloud._) That
grand old fellow?

POLLY. Do you know him?

BIJAH. Know him? Wal, I guess. Shot in the back. A dastardly trick.

POLLY (_holding out hand_). Bijah, give me your hand; you are my friend
for life. The colonel is one of the bravest and best of men. The
shot that brought him down could not keep him there: for, beckoning
to two of his men, he was carried in their arms to the head of his
regiment; and, waving his sword, led them on, driving the enemy in all
directions. Mr. Randolph Newcomb, one of the fine gentlemen of the
city, professes great friendship for the colonel; but, I've heard it
whispered about, that he tries to make him out a coward. Oh, I just
hate him.

BIJAH. He does, does he? I say, Polly, do they ever speak of Roger
Carruth?

POLLY. Law, no; poor Miss Dorothy. She's just as bright as ever: but
mind you, way down deep, she just grieves and grieves. I know, for I've
seen her, when she thought she was alone. You see, Mr. Newcomb is down
on Mr. Roger, and he is so intimate with the colonel, who believes that
he is something of a saint, that he has made the colonel down on him
too. That just breaks poor Mrs. Graham's heart, for Mr. Roger is her
brother, you know. I should think Mr. Roger might send Miss Dorothy
some word, at least, and not leave her to fret her heart out. Oh,
these men, they make me tired. Haven't a thought for any one besides
themselves.

BIJAH. Hush, Polly, don't say that. Haven't I marched from Oldtown just
to catch a glimpse of your sweet face?

POLLY. Indeed you haven't. You've done all that for glory, or, for all
I know, some other girl.

BIJAH. Oh, come, Polly, don't be hard on a fellow. You don't know how
much stock you hold in that tender heart of mine. Its value is getting
higher; better hold on to it, or some day, when the war is over, and it
is above _par_, you will wish that you hadn't sold out. Besides, Polly,
don't be down on Roger Carruth; he's “pure gold.” He'll come to the
front one of these days, and Mr. Randolph Newcomb won't stand the fire.

POLLY. What do you know about Mr. Newcomb, Bijah?

BIJAH. Never you mind. Sufficient unto the day, is the gossip thereof.
And O Polly, while that heart of mine is beating a regular nightly
tattoo for you on one side, the other organ of my being, the stomach,
in the most unromantic manner is clamoring for mid-day rations.

(PINKERTON POTTS _and_ DOROTHY _heard outside laughing_.)

POLLY. Poor thing, so active a poetical brain should not be allowed to
starve. Come with me. (_Exeunt_, R., POLLY _and_ BIJAH.)

(MAJOR PINKERTON POTTS _and_ DOROTHY _enter, both in riding costume,
and laughing heartily at_ POTTS'S _appearance, who is brushing dirt
from his clothes_.)

DOR. Well done, Pinky, that last leap was too much for you. That's
your punishment for insisting upon pouring into my tired ears, a whole
battalion of pretty speeches. Pride must have a fall. If your shots in
battle do not find a more responsive target, your record will not be an
enviable one.

POTTS. How can I help it? Such bright eyes and glowing cheeks cannot
but provoke such thoughts to utterance. I say, Miss Dorothy, you do
like a fellow, just a little, don't you?

DOR. Like you? Indeed yes. You are one of the nicest men I know. There
is a large corner of my heart quite devoted to you.

POTTS. Well, to be liked is something. But, if you only knew, how much
I thought of you by day, and dreamed of you by night.

DOR. Ha, ha! to think of Pinky Potts assuming the sentimental rôle.
Dear me. I never dreamed of such a thing. Why, you are too old a
friend. What should I do, if I were to fall in love with you? It would
spoil all the fun, and now, you are my devoted slave.

POTTS. What's the matter with my being in love and playing the devoted
too?

DOR. Never. Now, Pinky, you are just the dearest fellow in the world,
and I am awfully fond of you; you are no end jolly. So come (_offers
hand, which_ POTTS _takes_), let's be friends forever, and keep
sentiment out of the question. (_Seriously._) And you know, Pinky, I
can never forget Roger Carruth.

POTTS. No, Miss Dorothy, and I would not have you. Roger and I are too
old friends. I would not mar his happiness or yours, for all the world.
(_Kisses_ DOROTHY'S _hand_.)

DOR. Well said, my noble major. Some day a fascinating little woman
will cross your path who won't say “nay” to your devotion. I hope it
will be some one that I shall know, Pinky, for I shall love her with my
whole heart. When the war is over and Roger comes back—he will come
back, won't he, Pinky?

POTTS. Indeed he will. Never doubt his loyalty, and some day you will
have your reward. Roger is under a heavy cloud, but penetrated by the
warmth of your love it will in time disperse. Then, Miss Dorothy, you
will say “good-by” to tears, and revel in the happiness and sunshine
about you.

DOR. Pinky, you were wrongly named. You are true blue every time.
(_Goes to window._) Pinky, come here. Do you see that man walking with
the Colonel and Mrs. Graham? That is Mr. Randolph Newcomb—and—I don't
like him.

POTTS (_looking over her shoulder_). What, that beastly cad? don't
blame you.

(_Enter_ RUTH GRAHAM.)

RUTH. Good-morning, major. Ah, Dorothy, you here? What a glorious
morning for a ride. I see you have taken advantage of it. But major,
your appearance indicates a mishap—nothing serious, I hope?

DOR. (_looking at_ POTTS _and laughing_). He made a thrilling leap,
but missed the mark. O Ruth, I wish you could have seen his lordship
ignominiously turning a somersault in the mire. Don't be surprised, if
the next news that you hear is that Major Pinkerton Potts, formerly
officer in the Union Army, had reached the zenith of success, and was
now dazzling all Europe by his acrobatic feats. Pinky, don't forget
your old friends when fortune smiles upon you, and (_mock courtesy_)
send us a box. (_All laugh._)

(_Enter_ COLONEL _and_ NEWCOMB; COLONEL _leaning upon_ NEWCOMB'S _arm,
very weak. Leans against door._)

COL. Yes, Newcomb, I must rejoin my regiment to-day. No more holidays
for me. The wound is healing. Back again with my men, breathing the
atmosphere of patriotism, strength will return to me. Ah, Newcomb, a
glorious cause. I wish you were on our side.

(_Enters room._ POTTS _salutes_.)

COL. Glad to see you, major; our time is up, old fellow. Ah, been for a
ride with madcap Dorothy? (_Putting his hand on_ DOROTHY'S _shoulder_.)
I tell you, major, if every man in the regiment was fired with the
enthusiasm which this brave-hearted girl possesses, we should have
no deserters. (_Turns to_ NEWCOMB.) Major, allow me to introduce my
friend, Mr. Randolph Newcomb. (POTTS _bows frigidly and does not see_
NEWCOMB'S _hand which he has extended_. DOROTHY _bows slightly_.)

COL. (_seated in arm-chair_; RUTH _beside him_). Newcomb, since you
are not on our side, I cannot say “Come and join us” in the fight. No
doubt, you are doing your duty equally well, by remaining here.

NEWCOMB. There is other work besides fighting, Colonel, and mine lies
close at hand.

COL. True. And that reminds me of mine. Come, major, escort me to my
room. We will talk over the plans for our return. Dorothy, dear, I
must lean upon you, too. Ruth, I leave Mr. Newcomb to your kind care.
Good-morning, Newcomb.

(_Exeunt_ COL., MAJOR, _and_ DOR., L.)

RUTH (_coming forward, about to seat herself at table; coldly_). Won't
you be seated, Mr. Newcomb?

NEW. (_sits in chair near mantel_). The colonel insists upon a return;
do you think this wise, Mrs. Graham?

RUTH. His heart is so full of patriotism, every hour's delay irritates
him. Since he cannot be persuaded, I think it wiser to let him go.
Yet, I fear for his safety. That shot in the back was mysterious. Some
foe, calling himself friend, lurks near him; why, I cannot imagine. He
is everything that is true and noble; and whoever fired that shot had
some motive, which one attempt upon the colonel's life will not satisfy.

NEW. My dear Mrs. Graham, you are morbid. A colonel's life is at hazard
as well as that of a private. Why could not the shot from an enemy's
rifle have done the work?

RUTH. Impossible! the enemy were in front. Only a coward would do so
contemptible a deed.

NEW. True, there are some without honor, Mrs. Graham. Your brother,
Roger Carruth, for instance.

RUTH (_rising_). How dare you, Mr. Newcomb, in my own home, speak so
slightingly of my brother? Why have you turned against him? When he was
first accused of the crime, you acted as his friend. Since his escape,
you never lose an opportunity to taunt me with his downfall.

NEW. Because the evidence against him has strengthened.

RUTH. Mr. Newcomb, you call yourself friend. I do not believe you.
Roger is as innocent of that crime as I am, and you know it. Not
content with attempting to overturn my faith in my brother, you have
spared no time or trouble to turn the colonel against him. He believes
in your friendship so thoroughly, he never thinks to doubt your word.

NEW. That is as it should be, Mrs. Graham. And, I hope, some day, the
colonel's wife will favor me with her confidence.

RUTH. Never. Your very presence is hateful to me, and could I have my
wish you would never again cross this threshold. The time will come
when Roger's innocence will be proved, and woe to those who are his
accusers.

(_Enter_ POLLY, R.)

POLLY. If you please, Mrs. Graham, the colonel is asking for you.

RUTH. Very well, Polly. (POLLY _exit_.) I fear the walk has been too
much for the colonel. Will you excuse me?

NEW. Certainly. (RUTH _exits_, L.; NEW. _laughs_.) It will be a long
time before that day, my dear Mrs. Graham. The plot cannot so easily
be unravelled. Suspects some foe of the colonel's, does she? She shall
have a better cause. The shot will be more telling next time. (_Goes to
window._)

(_Enter_ ROGER, _disguised as_ GIBBS.)

GIBBS. Is the colonel at home? (NEW. _turns, sees_ GIBBS, _and gives a
surprised whistle_; GIBBS _looks at_ NEW., _and whistles_.)

NEW. (_coming down_). What business brings you here?

GIBBS (_coming down_). To inquire after the colonel's health.

NEW. I can give you full information. He has quite recovered, and is to
rejoin his regiment to-day. What next?

GIBBS. To ascertain if he has ever found a clew to the perpetrator of
the foul outrage.

NEW. If not, to turn traitor.

(_Enter_ DOR. _in house gown, and sees_ NEW. _and_ GIBBS. _She is about
  to retire, but stops upon hearing_ GIBBS'S _speech_.)

GIBBS. Yes, for I can give him the name of the man who planned his
murder. (DOR. _crosses to stage_ C. _and hides behind portière_.)

NEW. And what do you expect to get for this startling piece of news?

GIBBS. Well, say fifty dollars.

NEW. I will give you a hundred to say nothing about it, on one
condition, that you yourself try your hand. That man Dowling was worse
than nothing. It was a bad shot; we need better marksmen in our armies.

GIBBS. You are bound to murder him?

NEW. Murder? no indeed. “All's fair in love and war.” Are we not
enemies? Is he not the invader of the sacred soil that was my
birthplace? Has he not won the heart of the woman I once loved? That
affection is now dead, and hatred has risen from the ashes. She scorned
me once, and I shall not rest until her happiness is wrecked.

GIBBS. Then that explains your treachery towards her brother, Roger
Carruth. (DOR. _leans forward; listening_.)

NEW. What do you know of Roger Carruth? The world looks upon him as a
criminal; he is beyond recall and as good as dead.

GIBBS (_looking at him steadily_). You are sure?

NEW. Yes, I am confident of that.

GIBBS. And the family; do they not suspect?

NEW. Suspect? not much; they are too simple for that. You are still in
the colonel's regiment?

GIBBS. Yes. What are your orders?

NEW. Are you at any time placed as sentinel near the colonel's quarters?

GIBBS. Yes, any night may find me there.

NEW. Well, I must take my chances. To inquire after the colonel's
health is sufficient excuse for my appearance in camp at any time. The
colonel has given me a standing invitation.

GIBBS. Which you will have no hesitation in accepting, I see.

NEW. What time are you placed there on guard?

GIBBS. Just before taps.

NEW. Good, just the thing. After taps will be the time. Lights out,
everything quiet. Can I depend upon you, Gibbs?

GIBBS. You have my word, sir.

NEW. Ha, ha! word? do you think that yours is worth anything?

GIBBS. Sometime I hope it will be.

NEW. Remember, you owe much to me. Should you turn traitor, your
reckoning will be a sorry one.

GIBBS. I shall not forget all that you have done for me. Some day I
will pay it back with interest. (DOR. _hides_; GIBBS _exit_ C.)

NEW. I wonder if I can trust him? He seems docile enough; but sometimes
I fancy there's a look in his eye—pshaw! what nonsense. Newcomb, my
boy, a clever trick, a bold scheme; but you will win it, never fear.

(_Exit_ NEW., C.)

DOR. (_frightened, appears from behind portière_). What do I hear? A
scheme to take the colonel's life, and by his best friend too. (_Goes
to window._) There he goes, oh, the hypocrite. Now I know why I hate
him so. With all his fine manners, I have not been deceived. Ugh! I
hate even to shake hands with him. Oh dear, if I were only a man, that
I might be near the colonel. Whom shall I tell? Who will help me? Ruth
must not know, she has enough to bear. (_Goes to mantel and takes_
ROGER'S _picture; music_.) They call me gay, Roger, frivolous and
heartless. Perhaps I am, but if they could only look down deep into my
heart, they would find the love for you, burning a strong and steadfast
flame. (_Places picture on mantel and stands looking at it._) O, Roger,
why did you leave me? We all believed in your innocence and could have
helped you bear the burden, which now alone must be so heavy. Oh, if
you were only here to help me now. (_Bows head on hands and stands
weeping; music ceases. Enter_ BIJAH _and_ POLLY.)

BIJAH. That was the best piece of pie, Polly. If I could only have my
knapsack as a receptacle for such samples of your cooking, I wouldn't
need drum and fife to spur me on.

POLLY (_sees_ DOR.). Hush, Bijah, Miss Dorothy is here.

DOR. (_raises head; comes forward_). A visitor, Polly?

POLLY. Yes ma'am. A friend from Oldtown; and only think, Miss Dorothy,
he knows your Mr. Roger.

DOR. Knows my Roger? (_Goes to_ BIJAH.) Oh, tell me of him; where is he?

BIJAH. That I cannot tell you (_takes letter from pocket_), but here is
a letter, which he bade me give you should I ever come to Baltimore.

(DOR. _takes letter; breaks seal_. BIJAH _and_ POLLY _retire to window;
music_.)

DOR. (_reads_). MY DARLING DOROTHY.—That you still have faith in me
I have no doubt. Your heart is too pure for anything else. I have
enlisted in the army, and only as private will serve my country
with heart and soul. When the war is over, I will return to you; my
innocence established, and the foe, not only my country's but my own,
defeated and trodden under foot. Bijah Bright, the bearer of this
letter, is a true and loyal friend. He is worthy of your greatest
respect, for he stood by me in my darkest hours. My love to dear sister
Ruth. Until we meet again, yours in life or in death.

    ROGER.

DOR. (_kisses letter_). Mr. Bright, I am more than grateful to you for
bringing this letter; it fills my heart with renewed hope. Believe
me (_gives hand to_ BIJAH), your loyalty to Roger makes us warm and
steadfast friends.

BIJAH. I shall see him again, Miss Dorothy, and, when I do, I shall say
to him, that the stars in heaven never shone brighter than the love in
your eyes when you spoke his name.

DOR. You are a true knight. Will you take an answer to this letter?

BIJAH. Indeed, I will.

DOR. Thank you so much.

BIJAH. No thanks, Miss Dorothy, the pleasure's mine. (DOROTHY _exit_ R.)

POLLY. Isn't she just sweet, Bijah?

BIJAH. You've hit it this time; were it not for the dazzling brightness
of the orbs of fascinating Miss Polly Primrose the palpitation of my
heart would be greatly increased; as it is—

    There's only one maid, and Polly's her name,
    Of my love, my heart, she surely makes game;
    But some time or other, so sorry she'll be,
    She'll sigh for her Bijah, the bear of Old T.

POLLY. Indeed, I won't.

    There's plenty of fish in the sea, Mr. B.,
    Who'd bite at my hook with the greatest of glee:
    You think, as you've writ, sir, my heart is your own,
    That over your absence I sigh and I moan,
    Indeed, I do not, sir; pray hear me aright,
    I wouldn't give that (_snaps fingers_), sir, to be Mrs. Bright.

BIJAH. Ha, ha, Polly, that wee brain of yours isn't an idle one. It
won't do for us to separate, but make a stock company and spring our
poetic effusions upon the public together. (_Enter_ ROGER, _without
disguise_.)

ROGER. Is Miss Dorothy at home?

BIJAH. Why—Mr. Roger here?

POLLY. Land of living! Where did you come from?

ROGER. Was marching by; could not resist the temptation of a stolen
glance at Dorothy.

BIJAH. Have just given her your letter, and she is now writing one in
answer.

ROGER. But I must see her.

BIJAH. Then I won't wait for that answer. And, as I know the sensations
of a fluttering heart, I'll step out and let you flutter alone.

ROGER. All right, Bijah. Where are you going?

BIJAH. Back to camp. I've had a taste of Polly's pies. That's joy
enough for one day.

ROGER (_giving him papers_). Take these to the captain, and I will soon
follow.

BIJAH. All right. (_Takes flag._) Polly, should I on the cold earth
lie, remember this—I loved your pie.

(_Exit_ BIJAH.)

POLLY. Pity sakes alive! Mr. Roger, how shall I break the news to Miss
Dorothy?

ROGER. Your wits were always lively, Polly. I shall leave it to you.

POLLY. Dear me, she may come at any moment. Here, hide behind this.
(ROGER _goes behind portière_, C.)

POLLY. Oh, dear, every idea in my brain is playing tag with the other.
Such a horrid sensation I feel, as if some one had proposed and I had
said “No,” when I meant “Yes.” (_Raises eyes._) Shade of my departed
grandsire, aid me. (_Draws herself up, makes to door_ R., _exits
calling_, “_Miss Dorothy, Miss Dorothy_.”)

ROGER (_drawing portière aside_). Oh, how good to be in my own home
again. They say that stolen goods are always the sweetest; one look and
kiss from Dorothy will indeed be worth the stealing—hark, they are
coming. (_Hides. Enter_ DOROTHY _and_ POLLY.)

DOR. What is the matter, Polly? From the vigorous manner in which you
called my name, I should think the house was on fire, or besieged by
burglars.

POLLY (_excited_). Hush, Miss Dorothy, it ain't a fire—it's
worse—it's burglars.

DOR. (_screams_). Oh!

POLLY. Don't, Miss Dorothy; some one entered the house while you were
in your room, and has stolen something.

DOR. Stolen something! What?

POLLY. Something that belongs to you. It is very precious.

DOR. (_looks at hand_). My rings are all here.

POLLY. Oh,—no—not that, something worse; (_loud whisper_) it's your
heart.

DOR. Polly, tell me instantly, what do you mean?

POLLY (_excited_). I mean—I mean—no, I don't mean, yes—I do—

DOR. Polly, if you can talk sensibly, pray do, and not as if your brain
were congested.

POLLY. Indeed, Miss Dorothy, my brain is all right—but look
(_mysteriously_) behind that portière.

DOR. What is it? You make my very blood run cold.

POLLY. Behind that portière (_goes to it, draws it aside, disclosing_
ROGER), is—is—

DOR. Roger! (_Rushes into his arms._)

ROGER. My own dear Dorothy.

DOR. Oh, Polly, you frightened me so.

POLLY. Thank heaven, that's over—it's worse than having a tooth pulled.

ROGER. You did nobly, Polly. Will you tell Mrs. Graham that I am here?

POLLY. Indeed I will. (_Exit_ POLLY, L.)

DOR. Oh. Roger, I have wanted you so much.

ROGER. What do you think of me? my lonely hours so far away from you
all.

DOR. But where have you been? Tell me, Roger.

ROGER. Hush, Ruth is coming. I will tell you both together.

(_Enter_ RUTH.)

RUTH. Roger, my dear brother. (_Embrace._) Why this long silence? this
uniform? What does it all mean?

(RUTH _and_ DOROTHY _both seated_. ROGER'S _hand on_ RUTH'S _shoulder,
the other holding_ DOROTHY'S _hand_.)

ROGER. It means, dear sister, that my heart responded to my country's
call, and I could not stay away.

RUTH. But why did you not confide in us? we all believed in your
innocence.

ROGER. All?

RUTH (_looks down_). Yes, all; for at heart the colonel believes in
your honor. He must, but his friend Newcomb has so woven his influence
about him, that the poison has done its work. Oh, Roger, that man, how
I despise and fear him.

ROGER. And well you may. Never mind, Ruth, some day my name will stand
without a blemish, and the colonel will be made to forget his doubts.
Now, I shall serve my country with my heart and soul, believing and
trusting that justice in good time will right my wrongs.

COLONEL (_outside_). Yes, major, a capital plan.

RUTH. The colonel! he must not see you. I fear he may forget that you
are my brother.

ROGER. Never mind, Ruth, his words cannot hurt me.

(_Enter_ COLONEL _leaning upon arm of_ POTTS, _who carries the_
COLONEL'S _cloak and hat_.)

COL. Ruth, dear, I am quite myself again. The major's active brain has
helped to clear my cobwebbed intellect, and our united forces have
conceived a most brilliant scheme. (_Turns; sees_ ROGER; _sternly_.)
Roger Carruth, what are you doing here?

ROGER. Calling upon my sister and my fiancée.

COL. And do you think, sir, that I, their only protector, will allow
one whose name is sullied to hold an interview with them?

RUTH (_goes to_ COLONEL). Gordon, you forget that you are speaking to
my brother.

DOR. (_goes to_ ROGER). And please remember, Gordon, that this man I
love and honor above all others.

COL. Stop, I say. In my own house, I will speak my mind. Roger Carruth,
leave this house. All here bear honored names. We do not associate with
dishonest men.

RUTH (_sobbing_). Gordon, how can you be so cruel?

ROGER. Colonel Graham, you forget to whom you are speaking. We once
called ourselves brothers; that tie remains. We shall both fight for
our country's honor. Mine will be a double duty. My good name shall
stand again, and you, who spurn me now, shall live to crave my pardon.
Farewell, Dorothy. (_Exit_ ROGER, C.)

RUTH. Gordon, you have broken my heart.

DOR. You call yourself a soldier. If I were your country, I would
disown you.

COL. Hush, Ruth, don't condemn me. Dorothy, I have done what seemed my
duty.

DOR. There are some duties it is wiser to overlook. (COLONEL _and_ RUTH
_stand talking together_; DOROTHY _drags_ POTTS _down front_.)

DOR. Pinky, what do you think of all this?

POTTS. A downright dirty piece of business, but don't blame the
colonel. Newcomb is at the bottom of this.

DOR. Newcomb? Oh, yes. Pinky, what do you think? I overheard him
talking to one of the colonel's men, and he's plotting (_whispers_)
murder.

POTTS. What! Murder? Who is the victim?

DOR. The colonel. That shot in the back was a first attempt, and he is
going to try it again.

POTTS. Not by a large majority.

DOR. You must help him in some way.

POTTS. I'll do my best; and if Newcomb isn't “laid out” before we're
done with him, my name isn't Pinkerton Potts.

DOR. Find Roger; he will help you. He's too loyal to harbor the
Colonel's words when his life is in danger.

(_Sound of fife and drum. Troops pass window, as at opening._ POLLY
_enters, goes to window_.)

COL. Come, Ruth, my cloak and hat.

RUTH (_helps him with cloak_). Must you leave me? (_Music._)

COL. (_taking_ RUTH _in his arms_). Ruth, dearest, you are a soldier's
wife, remember. Forgive my harsh words to Roger, but by the fireside
or on the battle-field, our honor must be upheld. When the bugle calls
me to active service, with heart and soul to lead my men in battle, it
calls you to be brave and to conquer all fears, giving inspiration to
those who march to meet the foe, and waiting with patient love and hope
our safe return. (_Kisses_ RUTH: _embraces_ DOROTHY.) Good-by, Dorothy.
Come, major. (_Exit_ COLONEL.)

RUTH. Major, watch over him and bring him back to me.

POTTS. I will do my best, Mrs. Graham.

DOR. Good-by, major; don't forget the sacred trust imposed upon you.
Care for them both. (_Exit_ MAJOR.)

(RUTH _falls into_ DOROTHY'S _arms_.)

DOR. Ruth, dear, be brave. Roger will be near Gordon, I know. He has
suffered much, but he will forget his own wrongs. We have faith in him
and know him to be steadfast and true. Some time the world will know
it. Keep hope alive in your heart, and believe with me, that Roger will
some day make that shot in the back rebound, and the traitor will meet
his just deserts.

(_Tableau._ RUTH _in_ DOROTHY'S _arms_. POLLY _at window waving
handkerchief_.)

CURTAIN.




ACT II.

AFTER TAPS.


SCENE I.—_Encampment of Union troops at Harrison's Landing one week
  later; time, noon. View of James River at back._ COLONEL GRAHAM'S
  _tent_, L.C., _opening facing audience. Trees_ R. _and_ L.; _fallen
  log_ R. _Campstool outside tent; inside, table, stools, couch. In
  one corner, banjo; old army coat, hanging. Sentinel pacing at back.
  Soldiers grouped about; wooden table_ C., _at which are seated
  soldiers playing cards_. KILROY _on log_ R.; BIJAH BRIGHT _standing
  back of table. Soldiers laugh as curtain is raised._

BIJAH. Wal, that's a true story, and don't you forget it.

KILROY. Faith, it's an injy rubber memory yees have any way. An' divil
a bit does it trouble yees to stretch it. Be jabers! it makes me dhry
to listen to yees. (_Drinks from canteen, then looks at watch._) Shure,
it's toime I was on watch. (_Exits_ R.)

(_Enter_ COLONEL GRAHAM _and_ MAJOR POTTS. _Soldiers rise, salute, and
disperse._)

BIJAH (_down front_). Ha, ha! I've given them chaff enough for one
day. It will give them something to talk about and keep them out of
mischief. (_Exit_ R.; COLONEL GRAHAM _seats himself on stool outside
tent_.)

COL. Ah, major, already new life fills my veins; to know that I am with
my men again. That seven days' fight is over at last; poor fellows! how
many have answered their last call, and lie with white faces upturned
to the sky; only the heavy dew for a winding-sheet; while the wounded
are waiting for transports to take them back to Washington.

POTTS. Those were hard days, colonel; but we _must_ succeed in the end.
When we have gained the victory, some of those brave fellows, whose
souls are as white as their faces, will, if they can look down upon
their country, rejoice that they gave their lives for so glorious a
cause.

(GUARD _approaches with sentinel_.)

SENT. Halt! who comes there?

GUARD. Friend.

SENT. Advance, friend, and give the countersign.

(GUARD _gives the countersign in whisper_; KILROY _takes sentinel's
place. The relieved sentinel falls behind guard and marches off._)

MAJOR. Any orders, colonel?

COL. No, major, go amongst the men if you will, and speak words of
encouragement; I shall be my old self to-morrow. (POTTS _salutes, and
exit past_ KILROY, _who salutes_. COLONEL _enters tent and writes at
table_. KILROY, _pacing to and fro, suddenly starts and lowers musket_.)

KIL. Halt! who comes there? (_No answer; paces again._) Plague take it!
only the wind. (PETE _appears, crawling on hands and knees_.)

KIL. Halt! who comes there? Advance, and give the countersign.

PETE (_rising and coming forward_). 'Deed I can't sign nuffin, massa.

KIL. (_dragging him forward_). Well, by the powers, if it ain't a
shmall nagur.

PETE. 'Deed, massa, I done mean no harm; I's scared blue, I is.

KIL. Blue, is it? faith it must be navy blue thin, wid a coat of tan
outshide it. Phat are yees doing here?

PETE. I's only come to find my mammy.

KIL. Foind yees mammy. It's a foine place yees come to luk for her;
p'raps yees thinks she's a bowld sojer by in petticoats, ha, ha!

PETE. Please, massa, I tought maybe, when she runned away, der Union
men would be good to her, and let her stay wid dem.

KIL. Bliss his heart, a good bit of faith he has thin, and Patrick
Kilroy is the last man, though he has an Irish heart, that would lit
any harm come to this shmall spal-peen. Corporal of the guard, post
four.

(_Enter_ CORPORAL.)

KIL. (_with hand on_ PETE'S _shoulder_). Look here, sir. See what I've
found crossing the line. Shure it's a bit of ould Africa.

CORP. All right, I'll show him to the colonel. (KILROY _resumes march_;
CORPORAL _leads_ PETE _to_ COLONEL'S _tent and salutes_.)

COL. Well, what is it?

CORP. A contraband discovered crossing the lines.

COL. Very well, leave him to me.

(CORPORAL _salutes and exit_.)

COL. (_coming out of tent_). My fine fellow, what is your name?

PETE. Dey neber done gib me one, massa, only Pete.

COL. How old are you?

PETE (_scratching head_). Dunno, 'specs I'se purty old; I'se had heaps
of fun.

COL. Where did you come from?

PETE (_points across river_). Ober dere. Powerful hard time I'se had
too, massa. I'se runned away.

COL. Why did you come here?

PETE. Ole massa, he sold my brudder, an' I jest feared he'd make
me gwine too. An' I knowed der Union men was heaps good to de poor
niggers, an' I tought p'raps yer might tell me whar my mammy is.

COL. No, Pete, my boy, I don't know where your mammy is. (_Puts hand
on_ PETE'S _shoulder_.) What are you going to do?

PETE (_scratching head_). Dunno! (_Thinks a moment, then looks brightly
into_ COLONEL'S _face_.) 'Specs I should jes lub to stay wid you.

COL. (_seating himself on stool, outside tent_). Stay with me? What
could you do?

PETE. I can brack yer boots, massa. An' oh, massa Colonel, I do so lub
a horse! Let me take care ob yours. I can handle 'em, massa, if dey be
eber so debblesome. Please jes try me; an' I do eberyting yer axes me,
sho's yer born.

COL. I havn't a horse, Pete; but you look like a pretty good boy. I
think I can trust you. Yes, I will give you a trial.

PETE. Yer really means it? (COLONEL _nods assent_.) Ki-yi! (_Turns
somersaults._)

COL. Ha, ha! I'll make you my bodyguard.

PETE (_perplexed_). I ain't got no uniform, massa; 'specs I needs a
sword for dat.

COL. That is a ragged coat you have on for this time of year. (_Goes
into tent and brings out old army coat with gold stripes and buttons_).
Here, put this on. You won't grow to it this year (_laughs_), but it is
better than nothing.

PETE (_delighted; changes coat and walks about, admiring himself_). I
jes wish my ole mammy see me now, she'd be proud, she'd be.

COL. Pete, you are to take good care of everything that belongs to me;
and some day, when the war is over, we will go North and try to find
your mammy.

PETE. Has you a mammy, Massa Colonel?

COL. No, Pete; she died long ago; but a dear wife and sister are
praying for a safe return.

PETE. Massa Colonel, I'll do jes de bery bes I knows.

COL. Well said, Pete. Now go into my tent and put it in order.

PETE. All right, massa. (_Salutes and enters tent; enter_ POTTS _and_
BIJAH.)

COL. Ah, major! Whom have we here?

POTTS (_salutes_). Bijah Bright, the standard-bearer of your
regiment.(BIJAH _salutes_.)

COL. A grave duty, Mr. Bright. May it not be trodden beneath your feet.

BIJAH. Wal, I guess not, colonel: not while this right arm is strong.
Jest feel that muscle.

COL. Ha, ha! There's no doubt about that, or your heart either.

BIJAH. Only one corner reserved; the rest belongs to my country.

COL. And may I ask who possesses so great a treasure?

BIJAH. Why, don't you know? My Polly, your Polly.

COL. My Polly? Ah, I see. You mean Polly Primrose. Mr. Bright, you are
to be congratulated; she's a treasure.

BIJAH. Don't be in a hurry with good wishes, sir. She's on the wing,
and my shot has not yet brought her down.

COL. On the anxious seat, are you? (_Giving hand to_ BIJAH.) I can at
least wish you success.

BIJAH (_salutes_). Thank you, sir.

COL. Major, if you see a small darky about here, it is all right. He
crossed the lines, and I will take care of him.

POTTS. Very well, sir. He shall not be molested. (POTTS _and_ BIJAH
_salute as_ COLONEL _exits past guard, who salutes_; MAJOR _seats
himself on end of log_ R.; BIJAH _walks up and down_.)

POTTS. But tell me more of this Newcomb, Bijah. What can be his motive
in planning the colonel's death?

BIJAH. Wal, before Mr. Roger's sister married Colonel Graham, Newcomb
was all-fired gone on her. I know, for I was about Baltimore at the
time and heard no end of gossip. You see, Mrs. Graham didn't take to
him, and snubbed him on all occasions. By Jiminy, wasn't he mad! The
whole truth of the matter is, he's bound to be revenged, and takes
what's nearest and dearest. He was the means of the colonel's injury,
and I'm scared blue for fear that he will try it again. Roger Carruth
has his eye on him, for he has a double debt to pay. (PETE _heard
playing banjo inside tent_.)

POTTS. What's this? (_Goes to tent and brings_ PETE, _holding banjo,
down stage_; BIJAH _follows_.) Who are you?

PETE. Please; massa, I's only Pete.

POTTS. Where did you come from?

PETE. Ober dar, massa, and de colonel he's gwine to let me stay wid him.

POTTS. Well, give us a tune.

PETE (_salutes_). Deed, massa, dis yer belongs to de colonel; 'specs he
wouldn't like to hab me gib yer dat.

POTTS. Yes, he will; I can answer for that.

PETE. All right, massa. I'll play de bes I know.

POTTS. Good, and here's a quarter for inspiration.

(PETE _salutes, takes coin, and seats himself on floor_ C. POTTS _sits
on camp-stool_; PETE _plays and sings a negro melody_; SOLDIERS _appear
and group at back, listening_.)

POTTS. Bravo, bravo! (SOLDIERS _applaud, then gradually disperse_.) I
tell you what, Bijah, music and a song like that cheer a man up. If
we have many more days of dead calm and quiet, I shall be tempted to
desert the cause and soothe my troubled spirit with the society of some
fair maiden.

BIJAH (_turns_ PETE _around; laughs at coat_). You're a great one, you
are. Where did you get that coat?

PETE. Massa Colonel gib me dat; he's heaps good to me, he is. I takes
care ob eberyting, and I's his guard.

BIJAH. His what? Guard? Oh, ho! You mean body-guard. (_Whistles;
aside._) Wal, I vum, here's an idea. We'll work him. (_To_ PETE.) Go
back to your work, Pete. (PETE _goes into tent_.) Major, I have an
idea. (POTTS _comes down front_; BIJAH _takes his arm_.)

POTTS. Isn't it rather dangerous to give it away?

BIJAH. How can we look out for the colonel? We can't always be at his
side, or he will suspect something. He must not be warned, his health
won't stand that. That small specimen of black humanity calls himself
the colonel's guard; body-guard, he means. Now, why can't he be warned
of the colonel's danger, and I'll trust him for the rest? He's mightily
taken with the colonel, and you know what a darky's devotion is.

POTTS. Bijah, you're a trump! If that is a specimen of your stock of
ideas, you are a valuable man. Pete, come here. (PETE _runs out of
tent_.)

POTTS. Come here; we wish to talk with you.

PETE. I's all ready, sar; bof years wide open.

BIJAH. That's all right. Keep your mouth shut.

POTTS. You like the colonel pretty well, don't you?

PETE. Like him, massa? Deed I does. He's heaps good ter me. Look at des
yer cloe's.

POTTS. You can pay him back for them, if you will.

PETE (_putting hands in pockets; turns them wrong side out; looks at
them dolefully, then at_ POTTS). Please, massa, I can't gib yer nuffin.

POTTS (_patting_ PETE _on back_). I don't mean money.

PETE. Does yer mean I can do somefin for him?

BIJAH. Yes, that's jest the pint.

PETE. Deed, I'd just like dat. Does yer know what he's gwine ter do for
me? When dis yer war is ober he's gwine to help me find my mammy. Don't
yer tink I 'specs him for dat?

POTTS. Gad, you're a lucky fellow to find such a friend as that. I wish
the colonel would help me find a sweetheart.

PETE (_grinning_). 'Specs for such a fine-lookin gennleman as you is,
massa, de colonel would not have to work bery hard.

POTTS. Thank you, Pete. That's praise worth having.

BIJAH. I say, Pete, there's some one in this world, that _doesn't_ love
the colonel: you must take good care of him. One of these fine days
some one will try to shoot him.

PETE. Shoot massa Colonel? Not if Pete can help it.

BIJAH. Mind, you keep both eyes wide open. (_Exit_ BIJAH _through
trees_.)

PETE. Deed I will, massa.

POTTS. Pete, my boy, the colonel is one of my dearest friends. I
promised his wife that I would take good care of him, but I may be
called away at any moment. I commend him to your care. And remember,
the trust is a sacred one. (_Exit_ POTTS.)

PETE (_salutes; wipes eyes on sleeves, and stands looking after him_).
I'll do de bes I knows. Golly, 'specs I didn't jine de army for nuffin.
(_Goes into tent; brings out pail and exits_ R. _through the trees
for water. Enter_ POLLY, _wearing cloak and poke bonnet, with basket
covered with napkin on arm, leading_ DOR., _disguised as an old lady;
bonnet with veil over face_.)

POLLY (_out of breath_). My gracious! thankful enough, I am, that we
are out of sight of those horrid soldiers. One of them tried to kiss
me. Ugh! it makes me shiver to think of it. Miss Dorothy, here we are
at last.

DOR. (_raising veil_). Indeed, I am thankful too. I am so tired.
(_Looks about._) Where are we, Polly?

POLLY. Right in camp, miss; see that tent? I wonder who lives there?
Let's look in and find out. (_Both enter tent._)

DOR. (_takes picture in frame from table_). Look, Polly, Mrs. Graham's
picture. It must be the colonel's.

POLLY. Pity sakes alive! so it is. He must not see us here.

DOR. No indeed. I wonder how I can find Roger; ever since I overheard
that plot, sleep has forsaken me.

POLLY (_walking about, looking through trees_ R.). Some one is coming
this way. (_Looks again._) And I really believe it is Major Potts.

DOR. They say “Fortune favors the brave.” This is indeed a lucky find.
(POLLY _beckons_; MAJOR _appears_.)

POTTS. Why, Polly Primrose, what are you doing here? (_Sees_ DOR.) Miss
Dorothy, have you lost your senses? In camp! How did you enter?

DOR. Behold my disguise. (_Pulls veil over face; then lifts it._) I am
Polly's antiquated aunt. She has cakes to sell.

POLLY. Yes, do have one. (_Offers cakes._)

POTTS (_taking one_). But what means this masquerading?

DOR. I must see Roger, Pinky, and could think of no way but this. I
must tell him of the plot I overheard.

POTTS. I thought you were to leave that to me. Lost your faith in your
old friend?

DOR. (_taking his hand_). Don't think that for a moment. I could not
remain at home. I did not dare tell Ruth, and I must tell my thoughts
to some one; they were driving me frantic. Do find Roger for me—that's
a dear fellow.

POTTS. That is easier said than done. He must keep out of the colonel's
way, and that is his tent.

DOR. You have wits enough to manage that. Don't tell him who is here,
leave that to me; I mean to give him a surprise.

POTTS. Let a woman alone for keeping a secret. You will undeceive him
in five minutes. I know enough of the fair sex for that.

DOR. If you were not Roger's best friend, I should say something that
you would not like.

POTTS. I fly to do your bidding. Don't empty your vial of pent-up wrath
over my defenceless shoulders. I should not dare to look a pretty girl
in the face for a week.

DOR. What a vacation the pretty girls would have! Come, do hurry, or
the colonel will return and spoil everything.

POTTS. _Au revoir!_ (_Salutes and exit past sentinel, who salutes._)

DOR. My heart is fluttering like an imprisoned butterfly. Hark! Polly,
some one else is coming.

POLLY (_looking_). Pity sakes alive! It's Bijah Bright; seat yourself
on this log and don't speak. (DOR. _covers face; seats herself on log_;
POLLY _draws hood together_.)

(_Enter_ BIJAH, R.)

BIJAH. Wal, I agree with the major. This is getting monotonous; my
blood boils for excitement; even the sight of a pretty face wouldn't
go bad. That reminds me. (_Takes picture out of pocket._) If I can't
do that, there is no law to prevent me from looking at a pretty girl's
picture; and “by gorry,” she is worth looking at. (_Kisses picture._)

POLLY. Well, I never! Now, I should just like to know—_another_ girl,
has he? I'll pay him well for that; deceiving me with his soft speeches.

BIJAH (_turns_). Bless my soul! if here isn't a sweet lass now. What!
ho! my pretty maid; where are you going?

POLLY (_disguises voice; courtesying_). If you please, sir, I have
cakes to sell. (_Uncovers basket._)

BIJAH. Here's luck. Just what I've been looking for. I'll take half a
dozen. (_Gives coin; bites cake._) My! what cakes! “Is this heaven,
Uncle Tom?” (_Bites again._) These bring to me visions of Polly's
kitchen and her pies.

    Where'er I roam, where'er I be,
      No cakes can equal Polly P's.

This is richness. (_To_ POLLY.) Why do you hide your face? Let me look
at you.

POLLY. Indeed I can't.

BIJAH. You can't. Wal, I can. (_Tries to raise her head._) Come now,
give me a kiss. (POLLY _suddenly raises head, throws back hood and
discloses herself to_ BIJAH'S _astonished gaze_.)

BIJAH. Polly—Polly Primrose!

POLLY (_indignantly_). Yes, Polly—Polly Primrose. Aren't you ashamed
of yourself? You're a nice kind of a man, you are, pretending to be
fond of me.

BIJAH. Oh, come, Polly, I didn't mean any harm.

POLLY. Oh no, no harm, of course not. Kissing every girl you meet.
Don't speak to me—I'll never trust you or any other man again.

(_Enter_ POTTS _and_ ROGER.)

POTTS. What is this? An indignation meeting? Bijah quarrelling with
a pretty woman? No, yes, it is—Polly Primrose; but who is this?
(_Looking at_ DOR.)

POLLY. That's my aunt, she came with me.

ROGER. Poor old lady; she seems tired.

POLLY. That she is; but she's never too tired to tell fortunes;
wouldn't you like to hear yours?

ROGER. Anything to kill time. (_Goes to_ DOR.) Come, let's hear it.
My time is short. (_Looking about._) No danger of the colonel's
appearance, is there, Potts?

POTTS. No, Roger, he is busily engaged. I've looked out for that.

ROGER. Good! Now, what is the wheel of fortune to bring me? Oh!
(_Crosses_ DOR.'S _palm with silver_.) I remember, no golden treasure
disclosed, unless the key be silver.

DOR. (_taking_ ROGER'S _hand; disguised voice_). Young man, you have
had serious trouble; some cloud hangs over you. You are suspected of
some crime.

ROGER (_starting_). What witchcraft is here?

DOR. But you are innocent. If you have patience, your name will soon be
cleared.

ROGER. I hope so with all my heart.

DOR. You have a good heart, and, let me see—yes—that line is
crossed—you have given it to some one.

(_Exeunt_ POLLY _and_ BIJAH _through trees_, L.)

POTTS (_slapping_ ROGER _on back; laughs_). You are hard hit, old man.
Even the witches can read your heart.

DOR. (_addressing_ POTTS). Your time is coming, sir. “He laughs best
who laughs last.”

ROGER. Ha, ha! Potts, some time that heart of yours won't stand the
fire. Then I will charter a Gatling gun to return all your volleys.

DOR. (_looking at_ ROGER'S _hand_). But what is this? Some danger lurks
near a friend; perhaps a brother.

ROGER. I have no brother.

DOR. No; not a real brother, but—

ROGER. The colonel?

DOR. (_excitedly_). Yes, yes. You must save him. He shall owe his life
to you. Some one calling himself friend is his foe. (_Rising; forgets,
and assumes natural voice._) He has done you a grievous wrong, but you
will forgive that?

ROGER. That voice! (_Raises_ DOROTHY'S _veil_.) Dorothy?

POTTS. Cleverly done, little maid. You actually waited eight minutes.
(_Looks at watch._)

ROGER. Major! Dorothy, what does this mean?

POTTS. A well-laid scheme, Roger, to hold a stolen interview with you.
Miss Dorothy, you can talk with Roger just five minutes, no longer. The
colonel will return by that time.

(_Exit_ MAJOR. ROGER _sits on log_; DOR. _kneels at his side_.)

DOR. Forgive me for coming, Roger, but I was so anxious.

ROGER. Anxious, little one? Why, what is the trouble? Is it a quarrel
with “my dearest friend Mollie”?

DOR. Don't speak like that. No one ever gives me credit for any depth
of feeling, just because I laugh and take the good of life as it comes
along.

ROGER. Which I hope you will always do, Dorothy dear. Come, forgive me,
and tell me your trouble.

DOR. Before the colonel left home after his illness, Mr. Newcomb called
one day. I entered the drawing-room, and overheard a conversation which
he was having with some man,—a soldier in the colonel's regiment.

ROGER. Did you hear the man's name?

DOR. Yes; Mr. Newcomb called him Gibbs. Oh, I was so frightened, for I
heard them plan to kill the colonel.

ROGER. Kill the colonel? How? When?

DOR. This man was, some night, to be placed as the colonel's sentinel.
That was to be the time and place. “After Taps” they said.

ROGER. Have you told any one of this?

DOR. Only the major. It would never do to tell Ruth. She worries enough
without that.

ROGER. And you have kept it all to yourself? No wonder you were
anxious. Dorothy, you are a treasure.

DOR. But tell me, how can you save Gordon?

ROGER. He says and thinks hard things of me, Dorothy. (_Both rise._)

DOR. But you know at heart he does not mean it. It is all through that
horrid Newcomb.

ROGER. Yes; that horrid Newcomb.

DOR. Promise me that you will do your best to save him.

ROGER. No need to promise that. He is your brother; for that, if for no
other reason, I must forget and forgive.

DOR. Roger, you have made me so happy.

ROGER. Then, for all I have suffered, I ask no better reward.

(_Enter_ POTTS.)

POTTS. Time's up. (POLLY _and_ BIJAH _enter_.) Where is Polly?

POLLY. Here I am, sir.

(BIJAH _very dejected_.)

ROGER. Bijah, escort them both. Give the countersign, that they may
cross the lines safely.

POLLY. We do not need his assistance. He had better wait for another
girl. (_Glares at_ BIJAH.) Come, Miss Dorothy.

ROGER (_embraces_ DOR.). Good-by, sweetheart. No more anxious moments,
remember.

DOR. Never. Good-by, Pinky.

(_Exeunt_ DOROTHY, POLLY, _and_ BIJAH.)

POTTS. Poor Bijah looks unhappy, because the maid of his heart won't
smile upon him. He has a good heart, and is “true as steel.”

ROGER (_hand on_ POTTS'S _shoulder; music_). Indeed he is. No one knows
it better than I. He stood my friend in my darkest hours. Ah, Potts! I
have a hard battle yet to fight. Newcomb must not win the day. My plan
is a bold one. Stand by me, old man; your friendship will be tried.
(_Taking his hand._) But those honest eyes of yours never failed me
yet. This firm pressure of your hand, and the knowledge of Dorothy's
faith and love, give me strength and courage to do my duty.


SCENE II.—_Same as Scene I. Evening._ KILROY _has been relieved;
  lights across the river; table removed from the stage_, C.

PETE (_discovered lighting candle in_ COLONEL'S _tent_). Golly, I feels
powerful big, I does, wid dis yer coat ob de colonel's. 'Specs some
time, dey will mistook us, and I gets all de salutes. (_Comes out of
tent._) Dey will 'proach me dis yer fashion. (_Imitates_ ORDERLY _and
salutes_.) Massa Colonel. (_Imitates_ COLONEL.) Yas, sar. (_Imitates_
ORDERLY.) A 'spatch from de general. (_Imitates._) Very well, sar.
(_Salutes; walks about with dignity; enter_ KILROY.)

KIL. Faith, and if it ain't the shmall heathen we saved from the other
soide. Luk at the shtyle of him,—parading about wid the colonel's
shtripes and buttons. Whist, honey, phat are yees doing wid that coat?

PETE (_turning_). I's habin' heaps of fun, I is. Massa Colonel gib me
dis yer coat, an' I's playin' wid my 'magination, an' tinks I'se de
colonel.

KIL. Playin' wid phat is it? The nixt thing you know, it may be powder
phat's playin' wid you.

PETE. Does yer 'member, sah, when I comed across de line?

KIL. Will, indade I does. A foine specimen yees were. Shure, for a
minit, I thought it was the divil himself, coming to give me a surprise
party.

PETE (_grins_). Den yer don't trabel wid him all de time, massa?

KIL. Oh, yer shpalpeen! (_Strikes at_ PETE, _who dodges, turns a
somersault, and exit past sentinel_.)

KIL. A shmart one, by the powers! Travel with the divil is it? Faith,
and he goes it so fast, niver a bit cud I kape up wid him. If that
shmall imp don't show more respict to his betthers, a shmall chance
he'll get to travel with any one.

(_Exit_ KIL., R.; GUARD _approaches with change of sentinel_.)

SENT. Halt! Who comes there?

GUARD. Friend.

SENT. Advance, friend, and give the countersign.

(GUARD _gives it_; GIBBS _stands as sentinel; relieved_ SENTINEL
_marches off behind_ GUARD.)

GIBBS. I wonder if Newcomb is on the watch. Yes; here he comes. Too
clever to miss the game.

(_Enter_ COL. _and_ NEW.; GIBBS _salutes_ COL.; NEW. _looks at_ GIBBS,
_and starts_.)

COL. What's the matter, Newcomb? Not nervous, are you?

NEW. It's nothing. Thought I saw a shadow. Do you have any of those
black devils hanging about here?

COL. Yes, occasionally one; but they never give us any trouble. One
little fellow crossed the line to-day, and he was so bright and
clever,—wanted to stay here with me; so I have set him to work, and I
expect he will take excellent care of me. I admire the devotion of that
race; treat them kindly, and you are always sure of plenty of friends.

NEW. I prefer a higher type of humanity for associates.

COL. What a pity, Newcomb, that two such warm friends as we should not
have heart for the same cause! However, some day you will be of my
opinion, I hope.

(COL. _sits at table inside tent_; NEW. _on stool at opening_.)

NEW. Hardly that, yet. Whatever the end may be, I trust we shall still
be good comrades.

COL. That sentiment I echo with my whole heart. But tell me, Newcomb,
do you ever hear anything of Roger Carruth?

(GIBBS _listens at side of tent_.)

NEW. Never. He won't show himself in this part of the country again.

COL. You are sure that you have evidence of his guilt? I would not
misjudge the boy for all the world; I am too fond of him for that.

NEW. Why should I, his friend and yours, seek to turn you against him?

GIBBS (_aside_). Why, indeed!

COL. I cannot understand it—so true and honorable, always. Some
fearful temptation must have stood in his way.

NEW. Evil will show itself. If the seed is there, time will surely make
it grow.

COL. No, no, Newcomb; don't say that. Why, man, would you have me think
for a moment that it was more than a sudden pitfall?

NEW. The evidence grows stronger and stronger against him.

COL. Oh, Newcomb, this is so hard to bear! (_Covers face with hands_;
GIBBS _returns to place and resumes march_.)

NEW. (_rises_). Never mind, old fellow. (_Places hand on_ COL.'S
_arm_.) You have some friends left who have not played the knave.

COL. (_rising; holds out hand_). True, Newcomb; I have much to thank
you for. This kindly interest in my welfare, I trust the time will come
when I can repay it.

NEW. Don't worry about that. (_Looks at watch._) It is almost time for
taps.

COL. Won't you stay and smoke with me?

NEW. Not to-night. Early hours are prescribed for you. Good-night.

COL. Good-night.

(NEW. _goes up stage_; COL. _enters tent; enter_ PETE, R.; _sees_ NEW.
_talking with_ GIBBS.)

PETE. I wonder if he lubs de colonel. 'Specs I jes listen to der
comversation. (_Creeps behind tree near_ GIBBS.)

NEW. Well, are you ready for your work?

GIBBS. Yes, sir.

NEW. No chicken-hearted business about this. Is your aim a true one?

GIBBS. Yes; true as steel.

NEW. I can depend upon you?

GIBBS. You can, sir. I feel a special interest in the work to-night.

NEW. At what time?

GIBBS. After taps.

NEW. It will soon be here. (_Bugle-call for taps._)

GIBBS. That is the call. Ten minutes more; before the lights are out.

NEW. All right. Make your shot tell.

GIBBS. I will do my best, sir.

NEW. Good-night. (GIBBS _salutes_; NEW. _exit_.)

PETE (_shaking_). Golly, my hair just frozen stiff; bof my knees
powerful confectionate. Dey's plotting mischief, dey is. An' if Pete
don't keep bof eyes wide open, dere will be trouble in de camp. (_Hides
behind tree._)

(_Enter_ MAJOR _and_ BIJAH.)

POTTS. Newcomb is about the camp. I fear mischief is brewing.

BIJAH. I'd jest like to see the sport. I wonder who he is working this
time.

MAJOR (_goes to_ COL.'S _tent; salutes_). All right for the night,
colonel?

COL. (_raising head from hand_). Yes, major; good-night.

MAJOR. Good-night. (_Salutes._)

BIJAH (_looking through trees in flat_, L.). Major, look there! I'll
bet you a fiver, that's Newcomb.

POTTS (_looking over_ BIJAH'S _shoulder_). You're right. Let us hide
and watch him. (_Both hide in trees_, L.; _drum-call for lights out;
stage darkens_; COL. _puts out candle and stands in doorway_.)

COL. I wonder where that snowball of mine is? Pete! Pete!

PETE (_runs across stage_). Here I is (_salutes_), massa!

COL. What are you doing at this time of night?

PETE. I's watchin' somefin, massa. I heard a crackling in der bushes;
'specs it possum. Yer don't mind if I looks, massa?

COL. No; only don't stray away too far.

PETE. 'Deed I won't, Massa Colonel. (_Salutes, and resumes watch._)

BIJAH. You bet he scents the game.

COL. (_crosses stage, goes up back; stands looking at river._) I wonder
why it is my thoughts are all of Roger to-night. Poor Ruth! how heavy
her heart is; and I spoke words which did not lighten the burden.
Down deep in my heart I cannot think him guilty. Yet Newcomb is so
sure,—and Newcomb knows. (_To_ SENTINEL.) Everything all right?

GIBBS (_salutes_). All right, sir.

(COL. _turns to enter tent_; NEW. _appears at extreme_ L., _and
  watches_ GIBBS; GIBBS _sees_ NEW., _stops a moment, then follows_
  COL., _aims at him, turns quickly, and fires at_ NEW. PETE, _who has
  followed_ GIBBS, _springs upon his back, and grasps him soon as shot
  is fired_. NEW. _is wounded in wrist_. GIBBS _swings_ PETE _around
  and knocks him senseless with butt of gun_. POTTS _and_ BIJAH _seize_
  GIBBS; COL. _turns as shot is fired_; SOLDIERS _appear; stage grows
  light_; KIL. _runs to_ PETE _and raises head_.)

NEW. (_holding wrist_). The traitor! I'll pay him well for this.

COL. What does this mean? Treason in the camp?

NEW. It means, colonel, that this man attempted your life. I overheard
his plotting and came to warn you. He missed fire, and my wrist caught
the shot.

COL. Where is the sentinel?

KIL. (_points at_ GIBBS). Faith, and there he is.

COL. So, sir, placed here on honor to guard your colonel's life, you
turn traitor. Speak, man, why have you done this? (GIBBS _remains
silent_.)

COL. (_goes to_ PETE). Poor little fellow! You have killed him.

KIL. If yees plaze, colonel, his sinses are only knocked out of him.

COL. (_to_ GIBBS). Man, why are you silent?

NEW. He is too great a coward to defend himself. He dare not speak.
(_Music._)

GIBBS. Dare not? Be careful, Newcomb; the game is not yet yours. You
call me traitor: coward. Yet beneath the stars in heaven there is not
one who wears, beneath his coat, a blacker heart than yours.

NEW. What do you mean? Who are you that dares to accuse me?

GIBBS (_right arm free_). One who has suffered much at your hands; who
has borne with patience your taunts and slurs; who, knowing of the
colonel's danger, tried to save his life. One whom you thought “as good
as dead” stands before you. A victim of your treachery. (_Tears off
whiskers and wig._) Roger Carruth.

(TABLEAU.—KIL., C., _kneeling and holding_ PETE'S _head on knees_;
  COL. _staggers back and leans against soldiers, who support him_;
  POTTS _and_ BIJAH _each holding one of_ ROGER'S _hands, looking at
  him_; ROGER _looking at_ NEW., _who stares at him horror-stricken_.)


CURTAIN.




ACT III.

HOME AGAIN.


SCENE.—_Same as Act I.: three months later. Time—evening._ PETE, _as_
  BUTTONS, _discovered lighting the lamps_; POLLY _arranging papers on
  table, and putting room in order, generally_.

POLLY. Now, Pete, make everything bright and cheerful. Mr. Roger is
expected home to-night; we must do our share towards a warm welcome.
The poor colonel is so unhappy. Between the treachery of his friend,
and Mr. Roger's brave deed, he is torn with conflicting emotions.

PETE. I's powerful sorry for dear Massa Colonel. Wish I could do
somefin for him.

POLLY. You do your work well, that will satisfy him. (_Takes banjo from
corner._) But I tell you what, Pete, you can do something for me. Play
a dance tune on this banjo. I haven't heard one since I left Oldtown. I
can tell you what, Pete, I knew how to dance once.

PETE. Yer don't need to tell me dat, Polly; I kin see de dancin'
peeking out ob yer shoes. What yer gwine ter have?

POLLY. Give me a Virginia Reel. My gracious! I just adored that dance.

PETE. All right, Polly. You do der dancin', an' I play de tune. (_Plays
banjo._)

(POLLY _keeps time with head and hands; growing interested, enters
  into the dance; advances with right hand extended, pretends to swing
  partner; then left hand; then both hands; marches, slapping hands;
  grows more interested; finally swings_ PETE _and banjo; then sinks
  into chair, laughing_; KIL., _in livery, appears at door_, C.)

PETE (_overcome with surprise_). Golly, Polly, yer jest took my bref
away. You must have been to a powerful heap of corn shuckings; an' de
gennlemen dey must lub to dance wid you. Golly, 'specs dey don't all
hab a 'sprise party like I did.

POLLY. Pete, that was just glorious! I'm ever so much obliged to you
for playing.

PETE. I's right proud ob you, I is. If dis yer heart ob mine didn't
belong to a nigger, 'specs I should frow it at yer feet.

KIL. Faith, and it's an Irish heart she can have, anyway.

POLLY (_turning_). Pity sakes alive! What are you doing here?

KIL. It's a missage I have for the colonel.

PETE. Lor, Polly. Dis yer is de soger what didn't shoot when dis yer
nigger crossed de line. (_Salutes_ KIL.) I's heaps glad to see you,
sah. Does yer disremember me?

KIL. Faith, an' it's Pete, the colonel's guard. (_Shaking hands with
him._) What a foine by yees grown to. Shure it's a betther fitting coat
yees have on, anyway.

PETE. Yas, indeed. I's Buttons, now, I is. Don't yer tink dis yer coat
obercomes me?

KIL. Faith, it's a foine picture yees look in it.

POLLY. I remember; you are the soldier that was so kind to Pete.

KIL. Oh, yees make me blush,—the sight of those bright eyes, and the
swate words yees be afther saying. Shure, a foiner jig I never saw in
the ould country. Will yees be afther telling the colonel I am here?

POLLY. Yes, Pete will do that. Ask if the messenger shall be sent to
his room.

PETE. All right, Polly. Who is de message from, sah?

KIL. Mr. Randolph Newcomb, if yees plaze.

(_Exit_ PETE, L.)

POLLY. Should think that Mr. Newcomb had done mischief enough. You
can't be very proud of your master.

KIL. Faith, and it's little I care about him. I applied for the
situation to plaze Mr. Roger. Shure, it's a policeman I am in foine
livery.

POLLY. Oh, I see, something more mysterious.

(_Enter_ PETE.)

PETE. Massa Colonel will receib de message, sah. Yer is to follow me.

KIL. An' phat if that foine man, the divil, be afther kaping me company?

PETE. Den I goes first, massa, ebery time. I wouldn't for de world
disturb de confections dat exist between you two.

KIL. Faith, an' if yees have a foiner coat, you're a _black guard_
shtill.

(_Exeunt_ KIL. _and_ PETE; _the latter making fun of_ KIL.)

POLLY. Pete's bright enough for him. I've taken quite a shine to my
black diamond. (BIJAH _appears in door_, C.) How devoted he is to the
colonel! Heigho! wish some one was devoted to me. Nonsense; I don't
care. I am so happy, now that horrid war is over. I am ready to embrace
anybody and everybody. (_Extends arms_; BIJAH _steps quickly, and_
POLLY _embraces him_.)

BIJAH. And I am just the man to appreciate it, Polly.

POLLY. Bijah Bright! Bless my soul, how you frighten me! Back from the
war, are you?

BIJAH. Yes, Polly. When I left you, patriotism filled my breast. I
carried the flag, torn and tattered as it was, and, contrary to your
expectations, was not suspended in mid-air. I lived for glory by day,
and at night dreamed sweet dreams. They were all of you, Polly.

POLLY. Dreaming of me! Stuff and nonsense. Do you take me for a
brainless Down-Easter, that you come with your sweet words and
“palaverin” smiles. (_Dramatically._) Away! “I'll have none of you.”

BIJAH (_sinks into chair_). Won't you ever forgive me, Polly, for that
day in camp?

POLLY. Never!

    Think of me, dream of me,
      Whatever you will,
    That hour, that moment,
      It rankles me still.

Besides, what should I have to say to you? A man who carries in his
pocket other girls' pictures, and spends all his time kissing them.

BIJAH (_aside_). Oho! I see where the shoe pinches. (_To_ POLLY.) Why
shouldn't I? That's what I'd like to know. One moment you smile upon
me, and my blood frantically and joyfully perambulates through my
veins; and the next time my eager orbs behold you, an animated iceberg
would be a more cheerful companion. You needn't flatter yourself that
because you don't want me, no one else does. You can bet your sweet
life, Bijah Bright doesn't mean to get left. No, ma'am. (_Taking
picture out of pocket._) Not when he has such a sweet face as this to
look at.

POLLY (_tossing head_). Don't flatter yourself that you can make me
jealous. Precious little thought I give to you or your picture.

BIJAH. You are just dying to see who it is.

POLLY. Indeed, I'm not. Some baby-faced simpleton.

BIJAH. Come, Polly, it is too bad for you to treat me so when I
returned, hoping to share with you a secret.

POLLY. Secret! Oh, tell it to me, do.

BIJAH. Oh, no, Miss Primrose; I only make a confidant of my friends.

POLLY. Well, I'll be friends for just ten minutes.

BIJAH. Will you though? Not by a large majority. No friendship for me
on the instalment plan.

POLLY. I'll be friends. (_Gives her hand._) Now, tell me quick.

BIJAH. Ha, ha, ho, ho! I thought that would fetch it. A woman's
curiosity is not fireproof against a volley of gossip.

POLLY. If you talk like that, I shall leave the room.

BIJAH (_taking her arm; brings her down front_). No, you won't, you are
just dying to stay here. (_Holds picture and forces_ POLLY _to look at
it_; POLLY _looks at picture, then at_ BIJAH.)

POLLY. Oh, Bijah! (_Hides her face on his shoulder._)

BIJAH (_laughing_). You had better hide your face, Polly. Jealous of
your own picture. That settles it: no more “Nays” for me. We'll give
the folks in Oldtown a surprise, Polly, and the wedding shall be in the
old church.

POLLY. Oh, Bijah! But don't be in a hurry. Be serious and tell me about
Mr. Roger.

BIJAH. You know how he did old Newcomb up that day in camp?

POLLY. Yes, that was the time when Pete was injured and was sent home
by the colonel.

BIJAH. Wal, Newcomb ain't done for yet. You see, when Mr. Roger was in
the bank, I was there too. Of course, I wasn't president or director,
Polly; only had to sorter keep my eye on everybody, and I jest did. I
saw something that when it's known will be worse than dynamite, you
jest bet.

POLLY. It seems to me that you are a rolling-stone, Bijah. The last
time I heard of you before the war, you were poultry farming in Oldtown.

BIJAH. I could not make that work. I had read about the money in
raising poultry. Fortunes made in no time; and my fancy pictured this
enormous poultry farm. The name of Bijah Bright immortalized. Oh, yes,
there's money in it, Polly; for I left all mine there, and had only
experience to put in my pocket.

POLLY. But what is the wonderful news you have to tell?

BIJAH. Just wait. You want to be proud of me. It will be a scorcher.

POLLY. Don't be so mysterious, Bijah; you don't know everything in this
world.

BIJAH. No, and I don't want to. Let me be sure that the heart of Miss
Polly Primrose beats for me alone, and that will satisfy my cravings
for knowledge. Come, let us depart to the charms of the culinary
department. Methinks I see visions of your pies, Polly. There in each
other's genial society we will partake of pie, and talk over that
coming wedding in Oldtown. (_Exeunt_ POLLY _and_ BIJAH, R.; _enter_
COLONEL _and_ KILROY, L.)

COL. Tell your master, Mr. Newcomb, that I will see him this evening.

KIL. Indade, sir, he shall have your orders. (_Aside._) Faith, it's a
foine pie they be afther baking for Newcomb. By me powers, I wouldn't
loike to be here at the cutting of it. (_Exit_ KILROY, C.)

COL. (_sinks into chair at table_). It is hard to believe in Newcomb's
treachery; he has always seemed so warm a friend. (_Enter_ RUTH, R.)

RUTH (_goes to_ COLONEL). Gordon, what did that messenger want? Who
sent him?

COL. Randolph Newcomb.

RUTH. I thought as much; what was the message?

COL. Asking permission to see me!

RUTH. You did not consent?

COL. Yes, Ruth, I am to see him this evening.

RUTH. He shall not see you.

COL. Ruth!

RUTH (_kneels and takes_ COLONEL'S _hand; music_). Gordon, why will you
let him poison your heart against Roger? He is wily and cunning; you
have proof of his treachery, yet your heart, once loyal to your friend,
cannot without a struggle believe in his dishonor. Think no more of
this man, but tell me of Roger, and that night in camp.

COL. Poor fellow, his experience has been a bitter one. Shall I tell
you the whole story, little one?

RUTH. Yes, Gordon, every word.

COL. (_holding_ RUTH'S _hand_). When the call for volunteers was heard
throughout the country, Roger's heart responded to the call. Entering
the service as a private, he tried to forget his wrongs in earnest
work. Knowing the attempt upon my life, he sought the man who fired
the shot. Dowling was confined as prisoner, awaiting sentence. Roger
promised to help him, if he would confess the name of the instigator
of the crime. Dowling at last did so, and you know who the guilty one
proved to be. Oh, Ruth, to think a tried and old friend could be so
base. (_Covers face with hands._)

RUTH. Never mind, Gordon; perhaps better now to learn his falseness
than later; go on.

COL. Roger, knowing that Newcomb would not stop at one attempt,
determined to place himself in his way and act the knave. Assuming a
disguise, he so completely lost his identity that Newcomb was well
deceived, and before many meetings employed Roger to finish the work
which had proved a blunder in the beginning. It was, as you know,
planned for the night that Roger would act as my sentinel: the time
after taps. Newcomb, always solicitous for my welfare, was a daily
visitor in camp, and that night was on the watch to be sure that there
was no blundering in the work.

RUTH. Gordon, it chills my blood to think of it.

COL. To deceive him, Roger aimed at me, but fired at him, and would
have killed him on the spot, but Pete, having been warned that my life
was in danger, was on the watch, and sprang upon Roger's back and
caught his arm; the shot grazed Newcomb's wrist.

RUTH. Brave Pete and noble Roger.

COL. And to think, Ruth, that this was all for revenge. Thank Heaven,
he did not succeed in winning the heart that, full of love and noble
devotion, has been my inspiration in my darkest hours. (_Embraces her;
music ceases._)

RUTH. Yet you will see Newcomb again.

COL. He wishes to compromise. (_Rises._) Ruth, how pale you look. When
are the roses coming back to your cheeks?

RUTH. When all is well with Roger, and you are happy again.

COL. My heart will not be lighter until I ask Roger's forgiveness for
doubting him. I wonder why he does not return?

RUTH. He is seeking more evidence to clear his name.

COL. I am going to my study, Ruth. My head feels heavy; perhaps a short
sleep will refresh me. Ruth, you too have much to forgive. I have
doubted your brother.

RUTH. But not in your heart, Gordon. I have always been sure of that.

COL. Thank Heaven that my harsh words have not crushed out all your
faith. (_Exeunt_ COLONEL _and_ RUTH, L.; _enter_ POTTS _and_ DOROTHY,
R.)

DOR. Go on, Pinky, I am just dying to hear.

POTTS. You see, we knew it all the time, but just how and when Roger
was to square it with Newcomb was beyond our knowledge. You ought to
have been there—just a jolly row. When Roger threw off his disguise,
you should have seen Newcomb's face. Old Nick himself could not have
looked more insane.

DOR. Then the plot I overheard was no news to Roger?

POTTS. No, for under the disguise of Gibbs he held that interview with
Newcomb.

DOR. Right in this room, and I didn't know it. Well, I never! But isn't
it just glorious, Pinky. How did Roger escape arrest?

POTTS. Hard as it was for the colonel to believe Newcomb guilty, he, of
course, took Roger's side. Newcomb tried a game of bluff, but it didn't
work. He is at large, but we are only waiting for some new development.
It will come, and with it the downfall of Newcomb.

DOR. He richly deserves it. Think of the wrong he has done Roger.

POTTS (_taking both her hands_). Your faith and devotion to Roger have
just made me hungry. I want some one to have faith in me, too. Now,
don't breathe it, but I've just “gone and done” it myself.

DOR. Pinky, what do you mean? You are in love with a girl?

POTTS. Why, of course. You would not have me fall in love with a
spinster of many summers, would you? Guess who it is.

DOR. (_trying to think_). I cannot for the very life of me imagine who
it can be.

POTTS. Let me whisper it. (_Whispers._)

DOR. (_delighted_). No, really? Mollie? My dearest friend. There, I
knew she had some secret. Pinky, I could just hug you, but I won't.
I will reserve that demonstration for Mollie. (_Rings bell._) Do you
remember what I told you about the fascinating little woman? Now Roger
will have an opportunity to return some of your happy remarks. (_Enter_
POLLY.) Polly, my hat and wrap.

POLLY. Yes, miss. (_Brings them from door_, R.)

POTTS. Why, where are you going?

(POLLY _helps_ DOROTHY _with wrap and exit_.)

DOR. To see Mollie, of course, and talk it all over. I will tell her
what a sweet lamb I think you are. (_Exit_, C.)

POTTS (_laughing_). Good enough, Potts: your ears will burn steadily
for just one hour. No, I will follow and save my reputation. (_Exit._)

(_Enter_ NEWCOMB _and_ PETE.)

NEW. The colonel will see me in his private room?

PETE. Yes, sah; dis way, sah. (_Goes towards door_, L.; RUTH _enters,
closes door, and stands before it_.)

RUTH. What would you have, Mr. Newcomb?

NEW. I would speak with the colonel, madam.

RUTH. Not in this house. You have done mischief enough with your
treachery. My house shall see no more of it.

NEW. Harsh words from you, an old friend, Mrs. Graham.

RUTH. Don't call us friends, Mr. Newcomb. The time is past for that.
From the first, your presence has been distasteful to me. I tried to
be courteous, for you posed as my husband's friend. Now that we know
you in your true colors, I can speak freely. I loathe and despise you;
leave this house.

NEW. Excuse me, Mrs. Graham, but your husband has given me his word
that he will see me.

RUTH. And you have mine—you shall not see him.

NEW. You are a clever woman, Mrs. Graham, and though you once scorned
my love, I cannot but admire your courage.

RUTH (_scornfully_). Your love! That is an emotion which has never
entered your being. Your heart is too cold and treacherous; it cannot
harbor that which is loyal and true. I am only too thankful that I
escaped such pretensions.

NEW. Have a care, madam; I am too dangerous to trifle with. Let me
pass! No woman shall stand in my way! (_Tries to take her from door
by force_; ROGER _enters, takes_ NEWCOMB _by shoulder and turns him
round_.)

ROGER. What are you trying to do, sir?

NEW. Roger Carruth! You here?

ROGER. Yes, I am here.

RUTH. He wishes to hold a private interview with the colonel, and I
object.

ROGER. Pete, tell your master I would like to see him here.

PETE. Yas, massa. (_Aside._) Golly, tribulations am a-comin'. Massa
Newcomb wish he were a deader.

    [_Exit_, L.

NEW. Mr. Carruth, this interview is for the colonel alone.

ROGER. Sorry, Newcomb, but as I take an active interest in your
welfare, you must submit to my presence.

COL. (_enters_). Roger and Newcomb together?

ROGER. Yes, colonel. Newcomb wishes to see you on a matter of business;
I surely think I have the right to hear.

COL. No one has a better. Speak, Newcomb, before us all.

NEW. Very well; I have no hesitancy. I thought possibly Mrs. Graham—

ROGER. If you have anything worth saying, speak, and don't waste words.

NEW. (_cool but angry; turns to_ ROGER). Your scheme was a bold one,
young man, and perhaps you think that we are quits; but you have not
yet been acquitted of the crime of forgery. I alone hold the key to
that mystery (_enter_ BIJAH), and it will be well for you to listen
to what I have to say. You accuse me as instigator of the crime of
attempting the life of the colonel. Branded as a forger, who will take
your word for that?

COL. Newcomb, leave this house!

ROGER. Wait, colonel. Let me deal with him. What compromise do you wish
to make?

NEW. Let all suspicion fall from me, and I will give you my word that
your name shall be cleared.

ROGER. You would buy my silence, sir, as you thought you did that of
your accomplice. You, deeply scarred as you are by depravity and guilt,
dare to make me such an offer? No; a thousand times, no. _You_ will
meet your deserts. For myself, time will prove my innocence.

NEW. Will it, indeed? You overrate your ability. I hold you in my power.

BIJAH (_comes forward_). And I hold you in mine.

ROGER. Bijah!

NEW. Bright, the bank's private detective!

BIJAH. Exactly so. Mr. Newcomb, I am afraid your nice little scheme
will be “smashed to smithereens,” for it's my turn to play my hand. You
forget that, as private detective, it was my duty to shadow every one
(NEW. _starts_),—even your Royal Highness; and you can jest bet your
life, I did my duty.

ROGER. What is it? Have you any proofs?

BIJAH. Proofs? Yes; that Roger Carruth is innocent of forgery, and that
Mr. Randolph Newcomb has that honor.

ROGER. Newcomb!

NEW. Man, it is false.

BIJAH. Don't blacken your soul with another lie. (_Holds up papers._) I
hold the trump card.

(_Enter_ POLLY.)

POLLY. Two gentlemen are at the door.

BIJAH. Yes; friends of Mr. Newcomb. Colonel, shall we not bid him
good-evening?

COL. Newcomb, leave my house; and may you never enter it again.

BIJAH. No fear of that. He has two accounts to settle. (NEW. _glares
at_ BIJAH; _bows to_ RUTH, _and exit_.)

ROGER (_holding out hand to_ BIJAH). Bijah, how much I have to thank
you for!

COL. Mr. Bright, you have done your work well. I have seen your bravery
on the battlefield, your honor and loyalty here. Your country may well
be proud of you.

BIJAH (_salutes_). Thank you, colonel. If I could only hear Polly say
that.

POLLY. Indeed I will, if you will give me the chance.

BIJAH. That's well said, Polly. (_Puts arm about her._)

    We'll all be bright and gay
    When Polly names the day.

(_Both laugh and walk up stage to window._)

RUTH. Gordon, are you satisfied?

COL. Roger, can you ever forgive me?

ROGER (_taking his hand_). With my whole heart, sir. We have much to be
grateful for, that fate led me into Newcomb's way. But where is Dorothy?

(DOR. _laughs outside_.)

RUTH. Here she comes, laughing as usual. If she were wrecked in mid
ocean, that silvery laugh of hers would wake echoes on the waves.

(_Enter_ DOR. _and_ POTTS; DOR. _does not see_ ROGER, _who stands in
window_.)

DOR. (_putting arms about_ RUTH, _who is seated by table_). Another
ripple on the matrimonial sea. Somebody's engaged. Guess who it is.

RUTH. Engaged? I give it up.

DOR. Allow me to present Major Pinkerton Potts as the culprit, and
his victim is (_turns around; sees_ ROGER, _and rushes into his
arms_)—Roger! (_All laugh._)

ROGER. That is news to me, major.

POTTS. Back again, old man. I am glad to see you. (_Shakes hands with_
ROGER.)

DOR. Well, you needn't make fun of me. It's my dearest friend Mollie.

COL. Major, I indeed congratulate you.

ROGER. Thought you would follow my example, eh, old man?

POTTS. Yes; yours was such a lucky prize, thought I would try my hand.

RUTH. Mollie is well worth winning, major.

POTTS. Thank you, Mrs. Graham.

ROGER. Dorothy, what is the best news you could wish for?

DOR. Your name cleared, and all happy once more.

ROGER. Then it is yours. I am an accused man no longer.

DOR. Honor bright? How did you find it out?

ROGER. Through that good friend of ours, Bijah Bright.

DOR. (_goes to_ BIJAH). Mr. Bright, I come to thank you once more.
Polly, you can trust this man. He has proved loyal every time.

POLLY. Thank you, Miss Dorothy. It's pleased I am to hear you say so.

BIJAH. She has promised to marry me, and we invite you to Oldtown for
the wedding.

DOR. I accept upon the spot. Be good to him, Polly; he deserves it.

BIJAH. That she will. I can trust her for that.

(_Enter_ PETE, C.)

PETE. O Massa Colonel, such a time; it's jest orful. Massa Newcomb
he jests rants and tears like a house afire. Down in de hall am two
gennlemen a-talking to him right smart. Shall I ax 'em up?

COL. No, Pete. They will settle it amongst themselves. Do you remember
what I promised you? That when the war was over I would help you find
your mammy.

PETE. 'Deed, Massa Colonel, I 'members, but 'specs der ain't no great
hurry for dat. Yer's been so good to me, an' de missis, too. I should
jes lub to stay wid you. Please massa, don't send me away. (PETE _wipes
eyes on sleeve_.)

COL. No; no fear of that. As long as you are a good boy, you shall stay
with me. I shall not forget what you did for me.

PETE. Please, massa, I done de bes I knows.

COL. We all know that, and when your mammy does find you, she will be
proud of her boy. And now, Pete, for the sake of the good old times in
camp, give us one of your songs.

(PETE _brings banjo; takes stage_, C., _and sings something pathetic_.)

ROGER. Those songs brought the tears to our eyes when we thought of you
all at home.

DOR. But no more tears now. No more trouble: only sunshine. Just think
of it, Roger. Pinky is to be married, you his best man, and I maid of
honor.

ROGER. I like that. Why not reverse things?

DOR. Oh, no; my last chance for that dignity. Wouldn't miss it for
worlds. Besides, I promised for us both; didn't I, Pinky?

POTTS. Indeed you did. No backsliding, old man.

ROGER. As this little maid has signed the compact, I will help her keep
it. (_Arm about_ DOR.)

RUTH. Is your heart lighter, Gordon?

COL. Yes, Ruth; and already the color is coming to your cheeks. That,
with Roger's forgiveness, makes me happy again. Ah! we all have
suffered much, and have gained the happiness which I trust the future
will bring. (_Music._) Ruth, the household enemy is routed at last.
There are bright days before us, but ever and anon will cross our paths
memories of these dark days: the treachery of a friend; the bravery of
our brother (_takes_ ROGER'S _hand_), who could forget and forgive,
and, at the risk of his own life, come to your husband's rescue “After
Taps.” (_Tableau._)


CURTAIN.




_ENTERTAINMENTS FOR GIRLS._


_THE BOOK OF DRILLS._


PART I.

A group of entertainments for stage or floor performance, by MARY B.
HORNE, the author of “The Peak Sisters,” etc.

  Price,              30 cents.


CONTENTS.

=A NATIONAL FLAG DRILL= (As presented by children in Belmont, Mass.,
  at a Fair given by the Arachne, in December, 1888. Also as given by
  ten young ladies of the Unity Club, in Watertown, Mass., February 22,
  1889.)

=THE SHEPHERD'S DRILL.=

=THE TAMBOURINE DRILL= (As given at a Rainbow Party by twelve little
  girls of the Third Congregational Society, Austin St., Cambridgeport,
  May 2, 1889.)

=THE MOTHER GOOSE QUADRILLE= (As danced at the Belmont Town Hall, May
  10, 1889.)


_THE CHRONOTHANATOLETRON_; OR, OLD TIMES MADE NEW.

An entertainment in one act for sixteen girls, written for the Class
  Day Exercises at Dana Hall School, Wellesley, Mass., by two members
  of the Class of '87 and first performed before members of the school
  and their friends, June 18, 1887, and later at Ellsworth, Maine April
  6th, 1888.

  Price,              25 cents.

The idea of this cleverly conceived but quaintly named piece may be
briefly described as follows: The “Genius of the Nineteenth Century,”
although congratulating herself upon the achievements of the age, still
longs for some means of recalling to earth the prominent characters
of the past. Her wish is granted by the “Inventress” who produces the
“marvelous machine,” the “Chronothanatoletron” (or Time and Death
Annihilator), by means of which any woman of any epoch can be brought
at once into the presence of the “operator.”


OUT OF HIS SPHERE.

A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS BY THE AUTHOR OF THE POPULAR MILITARY DRAMA

“FORCED TO THE WAR.”

Price, 15 cents.

Five male, three female characters. Scenery, two simple interiors. The
  leading character is an old farmer, whose wish for the comforts of
  city life and the luxuries of wealth is answered in an unexpected and
  embarrassing manner. The piece abounds in rustic humor, the contrast
  between the simple old countryman and his city surroundings being
  ludicrously emphasized. All the characters are good and the piece
  easy to produce.

SYNOPSIS.

ACT I. Kitchen in Jedediah's house. A stormy night. Family jar.
Jedediah's return. A much abused man. “Hain't I been wrecked with
floods, an' blizzards, an' hurricanes, an' every other calamity under
the sun?” Dissatisfied with his sphere in life. “I want ter be rich,
that's what I want, an' with nuthin' ter du but jest sit around an'
take life easy.” Mr. Markham seeks shelter from the storm. Jedediah,
relates his troubles, after which he retires. Scheme between Mrs.
Blood and Mr. Markham to cure Jedediah from grumbling. The Dutchman
let into the secret. “You vhas der doctor, und I vhas der general
superintendent. Pizness is pizness.” Jedediah; placed under the
influence of anæsthetics and taken to the mansion of Mr. Markham.

ACT II. Room in Markham's mansion. Jedediah awakes from his stupor.
A bewildered man. “What—on—airth—Why! where am I, anyhow!” Female
servants not wanted. Believes himself to be dreaming and endeavors to
awake. “I've hern tell if you could shout, or thrash yourself about,
it would wake you from the toughest nightmare on record. So here
goes.” Interview between Jedediah and John. “Wise man holds tongue.
Old proverb. Better follow it.” Fun by the bushel. More and more
bewildered. Mrs. Blood as Mrs. Southernwood. An explanation wanted.
“For Heaven's sake tell me where I am an' what's the matter.” Old
home the best. Asleep or crazy—which? “Oh, Lord, I'm in a lunatic
asylum, an' these servants are my keepers.” Jedediah retires. Once more
returned to his old home.

ACT III. Same as Act I. Conundrums. “Why do some ladies who do up
their hair imitate a rooster?” The Dutchman's conundrum. “Vy does der
hen move his head back und forth vhen she vhalks?” Something about
baseball. Jedediah awakes. “I've had a dream.” So have Thomas and the
Dutchman. Jedediah's story. A permanent cure. “No matter under what
circumstances I am placed, or how poor my condition may be, I will
never again find fault with my sphere in life.”


THE BAT AND THE BALL.

A FARCE IN ONE ACT.

  Price,      15 cents.

Four male, three female characters. Scenery, costumes and properties
  simple. Time in playing about 40 minutes. Showing the difficulties
  that may arise from the practice of Amateur Photography. A roaring
  farce.


IN THE ENEMY'S CAMP;

OR, THE STOLEN DESPATCHES.

A DRAMA IN THREE ACTS, BY S.J. BROWN.

  Price,              15 cents.

Eight male, two female characters. Good leading part, genteel villain,
Irish and negro character. Time of playing about two hours. While not
distinctively a war-play its incidents are concerned with imaginary
events of the Rebellion, and it is not unsuited to the needs of Grand
Army Posts. Scenery, simple interiors and landscape drops, very easy
camp scene.

SYNOPSIS.

ACT I. Capt. Oliphant's home in the North. An unfinished honeymoon. The
  call of duty. A wife's anguish. “My hand girt on the sword that will
  be raised against my father!” The rebel spy. THE STOLEN DESPATCHES.
  “He is Madge's father! Rather a thousand times my own disgrace, than
  be his executioner.” The penalty of silence. DISGRACED.

ACT II. SCENE I. Irish and negro. Colored dentistry. SCENE II. The
  prison. A little story over a bottle of wine. “I understand. Good
  bye, old friend, and may Heaven bless you.” THE ESCAPE. A shot in the
  dark. “Now, my lady Madge, by fair or foul means you must be mine.”
  SCENE III. Dead to the world. A wife's devotion. “I must bear it
  all for Malcolm's sake.” A warning. “There is peril everywhere for
  friends of rebels.” A false knave. “To remain is certain death!” TO
  THE RESCUE.

ACT III. SCENE I. The camp. “If I could only hear from Madge!” The
  flower girl. The price of a passport. “I pay it, but to only one.”
  Husband and wife. “What is this woman to you?” A conundrum whose
  answer is death. “For the love of Heaven, get me the pass!” THE
  DESERTER. SCENE II. The villain's suit renewed. “Why not; your
  husband no longer lives.” The lie in his teeth. Misunderstood. “Can
  you not trust your wife?” RECAPTURED. SCENE III. SENTENCED TO DEATH.
  “You will sometime know that Malcolm Oliphant died for another's
  crime—true to the Union—true to the last.” A REPRIEVE. The spy's
  death. “We have plotted together and die together.” REUNITED.


A NEW IRISH DRAMA

SHAMROCK AND ROSE,

A Romantic Story of Irish Life during the Rebellion of '98, in four
acts.

By JOHN FITZGERALD MURPHY.

Seven male and three female characters. Costumes and scenery not
  difficult. Every part a good one. A sure hit. Printed as played under
  the author's personal direction, at the Dudley St. Opera House,
  Boston, St. John's Hall, Boston, and the Newport Opera House.

SYNOPSIS.

ACT. I. Scene, Squire Fitzgerald's Home, in Wicklow. Rose's story of
Desmond's arrival. Shaun Cary hears a bit of valuable news. Barney
O'Brady meets an unexpected visitor and shows him the door. Ileen and
Barney. The Fugitive. The arrival of the soldiers. Capt. Beck quarrels
with the Squire. The defence. The murder. THE ARREST.

ACT. II. _Scene I_: A Landscape. Cary and the Captain plot the
abduction of Rose. Douglass' dilemma 'twixt love and duty. _Scene II_:
The Prison. Barney's cell. Hot Irish in a stone jug. A friend in need.
The red coat. _Scene III_: Rose receives a false message. _Scene IV_:
Desmond's cell. The Death Warrant. Celt and Saxon. Barney a guard. The
death knell. THE ESCAPE.

ACT III. _Scene I_: O'Byrnes' Wood. The purty girl milking her cow.
Barney proposes to Ileen. Desmond hears bad news. Barney, in the
guise of a soldier, gets important information from Cary. _Scene II_:
Exterior of Beck's Castle by moonlight. Rose a Captive. Barney brings
good news. The proposal and refusal. The ass kicks. The false captive.
THE RESCUE.

ACT IV. _Scene_: Corrigmór at Sunrise. Shaun Cary a captive. The
arrival of Nano and Ileen. Tracked by Beck. Nano keeps Beck at Bay. The
duel. Cary's shot. Becks death. The “SHAMROCK AND ROSE.”

  Price,              25 cents.

Incidental to this piece occur the following _new_ songs by Messrs. R.
W. LANIGAN and LEO. A. MUNIER, entitled

  SHAMROCK AND ROSE.         MY IRISH QUEEN.
                MA BOUCHALEEN BAWN.

_The three published together at 60 cents; obtainable only of the
publishers._

  For other novelties see the preceding page.

  Walter H. Baker & Co., 23 Winter St., Boston.

  S.J. PARKHILL & CO., PRINTERS, 222 FRANKLIN ST., BOSTON.


       *       *       *       *       *




Transcriber's Note


What appeared to be clear typographical errors were corrected; any
other mistakes or inconsistencies were retained.

Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_), except in
two cases where underscores represent underlined text (“_THE BOOK OF
DRILLS_” and “_THE CHRONOTHANATOLETRON_”).

Text enclosed by equals is bold (=bold=).

Small capital text has been replaced with all capitals.

Hyphenation was inconsistent in some cases; the inconsistencies were
retained (e.g.: “body-guard” and “bodyguard”, “battlefield” and
“battle-field”).

The author chose to have some characters in the play speaking in
“dialect”. The way this dialect is spelled is inconsistent and this
inconsistency was retained.





End of Project Gutenberg's After Taps, by George M. Baker and Rachel E. Baker



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