COI^««GMT7ie8». BY HAROLD ROOHBACM, llOOtbac|)'« Cull UMCriptiVje Catalogue of Dramas, Comedies, Comediettas, Farces, Tableaux-vivanfs, Guide-books, Novel Entertainments for Church, School and Parlor Exhibitions, etc., containing complete and explicit information, will be sent to any addres* on receipt of a stamp for return postage. Address as above. ROORBACH'S AMERICAN EDITION. PRlpE, 15 CENTS EACH. This series embraces the ^st of plays, suited to the present time. The reprints have been rigidly compared with the original acting copies, so that absolute purity of text and stage business is "warranted. Each play is furnished with an iritroduction of the greatest value to the stage manager, containing the argument or synopsis of incidents, complete lists of properties and costumes, diagrams of the stage settings and practicable scene-plots, with the fullest stage directions. They are hand- somely printelk fronj new electrotyoe plates, in readable type, on fine paper. Their complete introductions, textual accuracy, and mechanical excellence render these books far superior in every respect to all editions of acting plays hitherto published. :. ALL THAT GLITTERS IS NOT GOLD. A comic drama in two acts. Six male, three feniale characters. Time, two hours. 2. A SCRAP OF PAPER. A comic drama in three acts. Six male, six female characters. Time, two hours. 3. MY LORD YN livery. A farce in one act. Five male, three female charac- ters. Time, fifty minutes. 4. CABMAN No. 93. A farce in one act. Two male, two female characters. i'lme, forty minutes. 5. MILKY WHITE. A domestic drama in two acts. Four male, two female char- acters. Time, one hour and three quarters. 6. PARTNE>Rs]^FOR LIFE. A comedy in three acts. Seven male, four female characters. Time, two hours. 7. ■WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. A comedy-farce in two acts. Four male, four female characters. Time, one hour. 8. HOW TO TAME YOUR MOTHER-IN-LAW. A farce in one act. Four male, two female characters. Time, thirty-five minutes. 9. LADY AUDLEY'S SECRET. A drama in two acts. Four male, three female characters. Time, one hour and a quarter. 10. NOT SO BAD AFTER ALL. A comedy in three acts. Six male, five female characters. Time, one hour and forty minutes. 11. WHICH IS ■'A'HICH ? A comedietta in one act. Three male, three female characters. Time, fifty minutes. 12. ICI ON PARLE FRAN^AIS. A farce in one act. Three male, four female characters. Time, forty-five minutes. 13. DAISY FARM. A drama in four acts. Ten male, four female characters. Time, two hours and twenty minutes. 14. MARRIED LIFE. A comedy in three acts. Five male, five female characters. Thne, two hours. 15. A PRETTY PIECE OF BUSINESS. A comedietta in one act. Two male, three feinale\har.icters. Time, fifty minute<. i5. LEND ME FIVE SHILLINGS. A farce in one act. Five male, two female characters. Time, one hour. 17. UNCLE TOM'S CABIN.— Original Version. A drama in six acts. Fifteen male, seven female characters. Time, three hours. 18. UNCLE TOM'S CABIN.— New Version. A drama in five acts. Seven male, five female characters. Time, two hours and a quarter. 19. LONDON ASSURANCE. A comedy in five acts. Ten male, three female characters. Time, two hours and three quarters. 20. ATCHI ! A comedietta in one act. Three male, two female characters. Time, forty minutes. 21. "WHO IS W^HO ? A farce in. one act. Three male, two female characters. Time, forty minutes. 2a. THE WOVEN WEB. A drama in four acts. Seven male, three female char- acters. Time, two hours and twenty minutes, ^^S~A ny 0/ ibc above zviil be sent by viail^ f>ost-paii{, to any address, on receipt o/jAe />ri(c. ^ / HAROLD ROORBACH, Publisher, 9 Murray St., New York. WHICH IS WHICH? A COMEDIETTA IN ONE ACT BY S. THEYRE SMITH New American Edition Correctly Reprinted from the Ori- ginal Authorized Acting Edition, with the Original Cast of the Characters, Synopsis of Incidents, Time of Representation, Description of the Costumes, Scene and Property Plots, Dia- gram of the Stage Setting, Sides of Entrance and Exit, Relative Posi- tions of the Performers, Expla- nations OF THE Stage Direc- tions, ETC., AND ALL OF THE Stage Business. 'And whilst T sing Euphebia's praise, I fix my soul on Chloe's eyes.' —Prior. Copyright, 1889, by Harold Roorbach DEC 141889'^! NEW YORK HAROLD ROORBACH PUBLISHER v^-^ WHICH IS WHICH? CAST OF CHARACTERS. First produced at the Royal Court Theatre, July lo, 187 1. {Mr. Clayton, afterwards Mr. Belford. Mr. Gargle {his Uncle) Mr. H. Leigh. Paddles {an Oil and Colorman) Mr. C. Parry. {Miss Louisa Moore, afterwards Miss Kate Bishop. Bertha Bingham {her penniless Friend) .... Miss Bromley. M.'&s,.yi\\A^ {Capper's old Servant) Mrs. Stephens. Time of Representation — Fifty Minutes. SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS. Robert Capper, an obscure young artist indebted to all the local tradesmen, is called upon during his absence, by Mr. Paddles, dealer in artists' materials, for the purpose of settling an account of long standing. He is received and put off by Mrs. Mills, Capper's old servant, with a strong sense of propriety and a mania for cleaning everything but herself, who, before her master's return, contrives to work sad havoc in his studio. Capper returns, has some high words with Mrs. Mills, and looks at his correspondence before settling to work. Among other letters, he receives one from an old friend offering a position with good pay on a government expedition to the North Pole. "While writing a letter of acceptance he is interrupted by the entrance of his uncle Gargle, just returned from a ten years' sojourn on the continent with his ward, Annie. In reply to Gargle's inquiries concerning his nephew's health and condi- tion, the latter reveals the extent of his embarrassment and seeks his uncle's advice. Gargle recommends marrying an heiress and promises to send him one ostensibly to have a sketch made, in the person of his ward whom Capper remembers as " Puffy," his old playfellow. The young artist is enjoined to lose no time in coming to the point, as they are to leave for the north next morning. Capper, while hating the thought of marrying for money, suddenly remembers that he has been in love with Puffy all his life ; and though perhaps unconscious of this, even to himself, for some time, yet, feeling that his love has grown like the summer grass, he con- WHICH IS WHICH? 3 eludes to cut the crop, now that the time has arrived, and make hay while the sun shines. After a wordy encounter between Capper and Mr. Paddles who makes another vain attempt to collect his bill, Annie, the heiress, and Bertha Bingham, her penniless friend, are ushered in by Mrs. Mills who announces " Miss Pestle " only, being informed that the one name will answer for both young ladies. Not knowing which is which, the visitors determining to keep him in the dark, Mr. Capper finds himself in a dilemma as to which he shall tell that her image has never been effaced from his heart. He tries in vain, by all sorts of devices, to dis- cover which is the heiress and which the poor relation, feeling that a mistake on his own part would prove ruinous. But finally having made up his mind on this point, in the course of his sketching, while resolutely uttering polite fictions to the supposed heiress, he finds himself irresistably drawn toward her companion, an attraction which he involuntarily mani- fests, to the delight of both girls. After Bertha's departure in a pre- tended fit of pique. Capper warms up, tells Annie frankly that he should not have known Miss Pestle from Adam, confesses his ignorance of which is which — knowing only which he should like it to be — arouses her sympathy by betraying his poverty in spite of himself, distresses her by announcing his departure for the North Pole, and so on until, finding that it is all up with him, poor relation or not, he impetuously declares that the only inducement for him to give up his wild project is that she will tell him to stay. Just as Capper has irretrievably committed himself, Mr. Gargle returns with Bertha and explains that he has committed himself to the heiress. Puffy rushes to his arms, and he finds that in letting his heart run away with him. Love — disdaining thoughts of poor or rich — has led him right and whispered Which is Which. COSTUMES. Capper. — Picturesque neglige dress. Gargle. — Attire of a substantial middle aged gentleman of leisure. Paddles. — Business suit. Be^tSa. } -Walking costumes. Mrs. Mills. — Plain dark dress, cap and apron. STAGE SETTING. bilerior Bacling — 'Foldiif Doors' ThTPne Table I Chairs Stool .^ Eiisel /oor I 4 WHICH IS WHICH? Scene. — A Studio. Folding doors c. Door l. Throne r. c, with chair on it. Easel and stool R. Table and two chairs L. c. PROPERTIES. Drapery thrown over chair on throne. Duster for Mrs. Mills. Pic- ture (partly painted) on easel. Four letters for Mrs. Mills to bring on. "Writing materials and bell on table. Bell (clock) outside. Painter's can- vass on frame. Artist's colors, brushes, mahl stick, palette, etc. Unframed sketches, pieces of armor, one or two swords, casts, etc., about room. STAGE DIRECTIONS. In observing, the player is supposed to be facing the audience. R., means right ; L., left ; c, centre ; R. c, right of centre ; l. c, left of centre ; Up Stage, toward the back ; Down Stage, toward the footlights. R. R. C. C. L. C. L. Note. — The text of this play is correctly reprinted from the original authorized acting edition, without change. The introductory matter has been carefully prepared by an expert and is the only part of diis book pro- tected by copyright. WHICH IS WHICH ? Scene. — An Artisf s Studio. A door L. ; foldi7ig doors at back, c. / a thrones, c. ; unfrajtied pictures and sketches all about the room ; pieces of old armour, one or two swords : casts; stattdingon throne, chair with a piece of drapery thrown over it. Enter Mrs. Mills, with a duster in her hand, Vadth^ks following, door C. Mrs. M. It's really no good your waiting, Mr. Paddles. Paddles, oil and colourman. Mrs. M. Mr. Paddles, you see Mr. Capper is not come into his studio yet, and till he does he never sees nobody. You must call again. Paddles. Call again, mum! call again! I do nothing but call again. I pass my whole existence calHng again, like a — like a echo. Mrs. M. I know nothing about echoes, Mr. Paddles. I only know it's no good your waiting here. You're interrupting me dreadful, and I so tell you. I want to getthis room a httle cleaner, and what chance is there of doing that as long as you're in it? Perhaps you may see him if you call later, but he don't like to be interfered with in a morning. Shall you keep him long? Paddles. That's as he pleases. It don't take long to pay money, though an unconscionable long time to get it. Mrs. M. Oh ! then you want Paddles. I want my bill paid. Mrs. M. Very well, I'll mention it to Mr. Capper, [dusting vari- ous things in the room) Paddles. It's seven pound three and fourpence farthing, but he needn't mind the farthing, tell him. Mrs. M. He won't mind the farthing, bless you ! You may trust him for that. Paddles. May I? I've trusted him too long for all of it, but — well, mum, I've got to go a short distance farther and I'll call as I return. Mrs. M. Very good ; you can do so if you like. Paddles. I shall expect Mr. Capper to have the money ready for me by then, mum. Mrs. M. Very well ; you can expect so if you please, [taking drapery off chair) 5 6 WHICH IS WHICH? Paddles. And if it's not ready — now mind, if it's not ready this time Mrs. M. You can call again, {shaking it in Paddle's directian) Paddles. No, blest if I do ; I've called too often as it is. Mrs. M. So Mr. Capper thinks, {folding it up) Paddles. Coming time after time in this way is simply a nuisance. Mrs. M. There ! his very words. Paddles. This is the last chance I'll give him. If he don't pay to-day I'll county-court him — tell him that — I'll county-court him as sure as a gun. Exit, c. Mrs. M. I'll not forget, [proceeding with her dusting) An ill- mannered fellow {glancing after him) — frightening a female by introducing fire-arms into his conversation in that way. He's a low-bred one, I know ; has no more patience with Mr. Robert, who being an artist naturally can't pay his bills, than he would with a common council man or a lord mayor. Poor Master Robert ! Oh, dear, dear ! What a state of dust everything is in. Tut, tut! But he always was a dirty man — from a child. Dear, dear! {turning the easel sharply round, and in so doing knocking off the picture) There! My goodness! If I haven't thrown it down. {picking it up) Oh! What a smudge ! Whatever will he say? {setting it on easel) He'll be dreadfully angry, {attempting to restore it with the duster) Oh ! that only makes it worse. There goes the other eye. I'll never touch his pictures again. There ! he's coming now. What shall I, — {turning easel with its face to the wall) Enter Capper, door l. Capper. Now then, what have you been doing in this studio, eh ? You've never dusted it ? Mrs. M. You may well say " Never dusted it," sir, indeed. It wanted it awful. Capper. What ! You have ? Bless my soul ! How often have I told you to touch nothing in this room. Mills ! Mrs. M. {niancEuvring to keep herself between Capper and the easel) But it was so dirty, sir ! Capper. Dirty ! There be off with you ! Go and flap that pes- tilent rag of yours in some other room than this. Be off. do ! Here ! Stop ! Confound — Where's my drapery, eh ? Where's my drapery ? Mrs. M. Drapery, sir? Capper. Yes, of course. Where is it? The dress that was on that chair, eh? The drapery that I've been painting for the last three days in my " Venus and Adonis " picture ? Mrs. M. Oh, that, sir ! I dusted it, 7\v\d— {holding it out to him) Capper. Dusted again ! Gad ! I believe you'd dust a bin of port wine, and sweep up one's ancestors. Dusted ! Why, you WHICH IS WHICH? 7 sacrilegious old female, if you were to see an angel you'd pluck his wings to make a feather brush — I swear you would. Don't answer me, but be off. You'd black the sandals of the Apollo with "Day and Martin;" you'd scrub an Old Master as if you were an Academician ; you'd sand-paper the Pyramids ; you'd — you'd — {^she runs off) furniture polish the multiplication table ; you'd — Plague take her ! Three days' work spoiled ! — just my luck ! An old hag with a mania for cleaning everything, except herself, [try- ing to re-arrange the drapery) Jove ! yes ; she's wonderfully unselfish in that respect ; never thinks of herself for a moment. Pah ! it's no use. Let me see, how did it come ? [turning picture round) Strike me speechless! she has dusted Venus! I won't bear this. No, hang it ! I will not bear this. Mills! [ringing bell violently) Mills ! confound you ! Mills ! That woman would stick at nothmg ; can't keep her hands off the Immortals themselves, who, of course, have no connection with dust at all. Mills ! Enter Mrs. Mills, delicately, C. Oh, here you are. Look there ! Do you see ? Look there ! you — picture's spoiled, you know ! Picture's spoiled! You've rub- bed Mrs. M. Oh, if you please, sir, Mr. Paddles called this morning to say that if you didn't pay his bill in the course of the day he'd county-court you — as sure as a gun. Capper. Mr. Paddles be shot ! Look at this, I say. Mrs. M. And I forgot to mention, sir, that the milkman said if you could conveniently settle Capper. Hang the milkman ! Tell him it's not convenient — or tell him I'll settle it with the water rates when they come round. But hold your tongue and listen to me. You see what you've done. Now I won't endure it any Mrs. M. The baker's very words, sir, this blessed morning. "I won't endoor it," says he ; and went on so violent, gestikylating and actually kicking his own bread basket in his anger that I shut the door in his face. Capper. Then now shut the door in your own face, and let your tongue "play the fool nowhere but in 's own house," do you hear ? — or Mrs. M. In fact it's the same with all the tradesmen now — as for the chimney-sweep I really don't like to meet him, he looks so black. Capper. Confound the tradesmen ! Dunning for money is part of their business. Look at this. Mrs. M. [turning modestly away) You'll excuse me, sir. Capper. Ah ! you may well blush for it. Mrs. M. Blush for it! I should think so. [with a glance at it) No clothes indeed ! The impudent thing. 8 WHICH IS WHICH? Capper. What do you say ? Do you see ? Mrs. M. Yes, sir, I don't think it at all proper. Capper. What ? Mrs. M. Painting them pictures. I think it's himmoral. Capper. {asto7iished) You think it's — why, you ugly Mrs. M. I beg your pardon, Master Roben ; no uglier than you are. {angrily) Capper. Ha ! ha ! Why, you old fool Mrs. M. [angrily) What do you mean, sir? No older than you are. Capper. Oh, come ! and according to your own account you knew me a considerable time before I was born. Mrs. M. Yes, I did — [a sob) — and I never thought. Master Robert — [a sob) — that you'd have called your old nurse a f-fool. {weeping) Capper, [to himself) Ha, ha ! I'm done, of course. One's cer- tain to get the worst of it in a squabble with a woman. Here, I say, Mills! There ! Never mind, I didn't mean to wound your feelings — 'pon my word I didn't. But I must really begin to work. Now, keep that duster quiet ; and just fetch me the letters I left on the breakfast table, will you ? I've never looked at them yet. [she goes through folding doors C.) Ten o'clock! 1 must set to work, indeed ; though what the dickens is the good of my paint- ing when no one will buy my pictures ? [she returns, and hands him the letters) Thanks! Now be off, there's a good soul. Exit Mrs. Mills, C, stealthily passing her duster over a table as she goes. One, two, three, [turning over letters) Gad! I shiver at letters, now ; but I suppose I had better open them, [irritably) Confound them! They must be opened, [on the point of opening 07u) No, hang it ; that is a lawyer's billet doux, I'll swear. We'll keep that for a bonne bouche at last. Here, I say, though, this one looks Hke a lady's hand, [opening it hastily) Ugh! " Per account rendered June, '67." — June, '67! What a memory they must have. I can't think how they recollect these little things such a confounded time. I'd quite forgotten it, I declare ; and— and I shouldn't wonder if I forgot it again.— " With thanks for past favours." Oh, I dare say ; I wish they'd discover a pleasanter way of showing their gratitude. And what is this? [opening another) " If the enclosed account is not settled immediately, Jor- rocks, Spankdoodle, Son, and Jorrocks, will feel it necessary to put the matter into the hands of their lawyers without further delay." Gad ! [as if appalled at such ingratitude) Men who have had my custom for years. But there we go ; each step brings us lower. Now for the cHmax ! They talked of the devil, and here no doubt he appears, [opening third letter) I say, what's this? WHICH IS WHICH? 9 This ain't a lawyer's letter. Why, it's from Joe Gray town, [read- ing it hastily) 'Um, 'um, 'um, hallo ! 'um, 'urn, 'um, I say, 'um, 'um, 'um. Well, now that's uncommon jolly of him — uncommon jolly of Joe, upon my word it is. 'Um, *um — "going as surgeon to a Government Expedition bound for the Arctic Regions on an enquiry into the character of the Flora in the immediate vicinity of the North Pole." — Umph ! Queer notion. W^ho on earth expects to find flowers up there? Oh, Government Expedition; ah, that explains it. — " They are very hard up for an artist to accompany the expedition. Will you come ? It will be a fine opportunity for observing nature under a perfectly new aspect." — Ay, no doubt, under perfectly new snow every morning. — " If you will apply or authorize me to do so, they will jump at you." — [reflectively) Fancy being jumped at by Government. — " Cap- ital pay, everything found, splendid companions," — 'um, 'um — " and we shan't be away more than — four yea.rs." -{startled) Oh, I say! — "barring accidents." — {aghast) Oh, the dickens. — "We want a real sharp fellow hke yourself." — {after a pause) He's an amusing chap, is Joe. — " Sharp as a needle since we are pointing to the north." — Ha, ha! — " It will be the very place for you, as painters always look out for a north aspect, you know." — What a facetious dog he is! 'Um, 'um. — " From yours, ever, J. Gray- town. P. S. Bring heaps of white paint with you ; the other col- ours are comparatively unimportant. PP. S. With the exception of black, of course, for it is night for nine months of every year. Reply by return as we start in a fortnight." A fortnight! Im- possible ! Out of the question ! A fortnight to prepare for a four years' winter and possible accidents! {getting out paper a?td ink) No ; if I had had rather more time to prepare I might have (Postman's knock, l.) Oh, that confounded postman again! Gad, if I went to the North Pole I should escape that pestilent postman at any rate. But four years ! {sits and writes) " My dear Joe, a thousand thanks for thinking of me for this Arctic business, but — " Enter Mrs. Mills, c, with a letter — a duster in her right hand. Mrs. M. A letter, sir. Capper, {taking it) Thanks! {as she passes her duster over the corner of the table) Now then ; you're dusting again ! Mrs. M. No, I'm not, sir. What do you mean, Mr. Robert? Exit, C. , passing her duster over a chair as she leaves. Capper, {while opening letter) " A thousand thanks for thinking of me for this Arctic business, but — {his eye falls oji letter — he stares — then continues writing) — but I accept your offer without a moment's hesitation. Please make the application forme at once, and believe me — " {as he folds and directs it) A lawyer's letter at last, by Jove! {calls) Mills! Flight's my only chance! {calls) Mills! lO WHICH IS WHICH? Door opens and Gargle enters, c. Here ! {without turning) Post this at once, will you ? [holding it out behind him and glancing at law-letter) Well. Why don't you take it? [turning and jumping up quickly) You're dusting some- thing, [perceives Gargle) Oh ! 'pon my word, I beg pardon — I thought it was — why, bless my soul ! — am I mistaken, or — Uncle Gargle ? [tossing letter on table and going towards him) Gargle. Well, Bob, you've not forgotten me in spite of my ten years of Continental sojourn, eh? I wouldn't let her announce me, but took the Hberty of walking straight up. And how are you, my boy ? You look blooming enough at any rate. Capper. Do I, sir? Then my appearance belies me terribly, for nothing could be seedier than my present condition, [solemnly) Uncle Gargle, you see before you a ruined man. I'm in the last stage of embarassment. Gargle. I'm sorry to hear it. Bob. Whom do you owe this money to ? Give me the history of your embarassment. Capper. The history of my embarassment is a history in several books — hang it ! Whom do I owe it to ? All my tradesmen. Gargle. Yes, yes ; but what is the amount? Capper. Well, sir, I — in fact, you see, a freedom from care is so necessary in the cultivation of the arts that I make it a point never to burden my mind with any troublesome details. Gargle. Oh, indeed, Bob — your creditors scarcely look at the matter in the same philosophical fashion, I should say, eh ? Capper. Well no, sir; they write pretty regularly, to say the truth, but it doesn't answer — neither do I. Gargle. Ah ! and what, pray, are the assets ? Capper. Sir ? Gargle. How much can you muster to release yourself? What's the sum — in round numbers, now ? Capper. I can give it you in one very round number — nothing. Come, sir — [flinging himself in a grotesque attitude into a chair) — I wouldn't have troubled you with all this, but the fact is, something must be done to satisfy the constant demands upon me for money, I naturally turn to my nearest relative for assistance. Come, Uncle Gargle, put yourself into my position, and tell me what I must do. Gargle. As to putting myself into your position, Bob, that's quite impossible for a man of my years and figure. But as regards what you are to do — Will you marry ? Capper. Marry ! [staring in astonishment) Don't I tell you that I'm worried out of my life already? How can I marry without a penny to bless myself with ? Gargle. Has your education been so neglected. Bob, as to leave you in ignorance that there are in Natural History certain creat- ures called heiresses ? WHICH IS WHICH? II Capper. Of course not ; but what heiress would be fool enough to marry me, I should like to know. Gargle. Suppose I could find you one, would you marry her ? Capper. Would I ? Like a bird, sir. Gargle. Give me a distinct answer. Bob. If I find you a girl with a fortune, you will marry her ? Capper. Yes, I say, like a — Gargle. It's not a question of likes, I tell you. You will, then? Capper. Yes. Gargle, [rising] Good ; I'll send her ! Capper, [aghast) Send her ! Send her where ? Gargle. Where! Why here, of course, [going) She s calling a few doors off with a Miss Bingham, a penniless young lady of her acquaintance — a poor relation , in fact. Capper. [Jumping up) No, but — I say — here! Stop! What's her name "i What s she like ? How old is she ? Does she drop her H's ? Has she nice hands and feet ? Here ; stop, sir ! Where are you going to ? Gargle. It seems to me, young man, that you wish to get off your engagement. Capper. Hang it ! I'm not engaged yet. You're in such a Enter Mrs. Mills, c, with a letter. Well, who's that from ? Mrs. M. Mr. Paddles has called again, sir ; and I was to give you this. It's his account, he says, and he says he'll wait for it. Capper. I know he will. What is the use of a man coming to another man's house at this time in the morning to enunciate truisms of that kind ? Mrs. M. But he says he can't wait any longer. Capper. Very well, then show him out, Mrs. M. No, but Mr. Robert, sir, he says Capper. I don't care what he says. You see I'm engaged, don't you. Get him away somehow. Tell him I'm engaged — engaged with the Governor of the Bank of England, if you hke. Get rid of him somehow. Dust him out or something. Exit Mrs. Mills, C, after passing her duster over Qk^qi.^'^ hat the wrong way. Gargle. Well, Bob, what's your decision? Capper. Oh, yes, sir! I'll do it. I'll marry anything in the shape of money. Only tell me her name. Gargle. Name ! Miss Pestle. Capper. Pestle ! Pestle ! Why, she's your Gargle. She was left to my guardianship when very young. You must remember her, I'm sure. Miss Pestle. She has a nice for- 12 WHICH IS WHICH? tune of her own, and as I take a great interest in you, Bob, I don't see why you should not have the money as well as another. Miss Pestle, recollect. {going) Capper. I remember her, of course. I shall know her again, trust me. Little girl about that high. Gargle, [coldly) Yes, but she's higher than that now. Capper. Of course she is. Of course ; Puffy, I used to call her — don't you recollect? And she used to call me Cobby. Puffy ! Gad, I shall be rejoiced to see her again. Little girl, ten years old. I recollect — Ha, ha ! Gargle, {severely) But she's older than that now. Capper. Ha, ha ! Of course she is. Know her again ! I should know her among a thousand : httle short sleeves with pink ribbons in 'em, and a pink sash, and httle short petticoats just down to there, and Gargle, [angrily) But, confound it, sir, she wears them longer than that now. Don't be a fool, Bob ; let's have no false senti- ment about it. You're in want of money ; she has got more than she knows what to do with. That's reason enough for your mar- x^\x\%.[pausing) By the way, you had better lose no time in com- ing to the point, as we leave for the north to-morrow morning for a stay of three months. Capper. To-morrow morning ? [aside) And before they return I shall have left for the — North for a stay of four years, [aloud] But, hang it, sir, I can scarcely propose to her at the first inter- view. Gargle. Can't you? And why not, pray? You've known her ever since she was born. What would the fellow have ? You don't require a longer acquaintance than that, I suppose? Capper. Well, but sir, she mayn't be as" prepared to like me as I am to like her. Gargle. Oh, don't you be afraid. She retained a ridiculously affectionate recollection of you ; and when we were in Italy never saw a picture without wondering whether Bob could paint like that, or what Bob would give to be there ; and it was Bob this and Bob that and Bob t'other, till I was sick of your very name, sir. Capper. Thank you, sir ; I am exceedingly sorry that Gargle. Oh ! a fig for your apologies. Marry her, and I'll for- give you. I'll send for — ah! for you to make a sketch of her for me. I'll send her at once ; and if iMon't see you again before we leave, why — good-bye, Bob. Don't come down. Good-bye. Exit, door L. Capper, [looking after him) Stingy brute ! Instead of behaving like a man and a brother — I mean an uncle — and ransoming me out of hand, he advises me to sell myself for good and all. I hate the thought of marrying for money. But no — hang it ! this WHICH IS WHICH? 13 is not marying for money. By Jove ! now I come to think of it I've been in love with that girl all my life, {affectionately) Puffy, Puffy ! I declare I have. And though perhaps I have been unconscious even to myself of this for some time, yet that proves nothing, for love " Grows like the summer grass, fastest by night. Unseen but crescive in his faculty." And that is my case all over. My love has grown like the sum- mer grass ; so, hang it all, let's cut the crop now the time's arrived, and make hay while the sun shines ; for this perpetual dunning is no longer to be borne — and as for four years in the Arctic Regions in search of an impossible Flora! — 'gad, we shall spend our time in singing to the Esquimaux, " Shepherds, tell us true, have you seen your Flora pass this way." [a knock at the door) Come in. Enter Paddles, c. Oh! Mr. — Mr. Paddles, I think. No, nothing to-day, Mr. Pad- dles, thank you. Paddles. You mistake the purpose of my call, sir. I took the liberty of stepping up, Mr. Capper Capper. Yes, I'm glad you see the matter in its right light. It was a hberty, Mr. Paddles. Paddles. I am sorry you think so, sir ; but I came for my money. Capper. Ah ! you reheve me. I was afraid you came for mine. Paddles. Money owing, allow me to remind you, sir, belongs to the creditor — not the debtor ! Capper. No doubt you're right. At any rate in the present instance, I can take my oath [feeling in his pockets) that it doesn't belong to the debtor. Paddles. The money you owe me is in reahty mine, and I've a right to demand it when I want it. I want it now, as I owe it to my landlord, and must pay it to-morrow morning. Capper. Indeed! So this money, after all, belongs, on your own showing,, to your landlord — does not belong to you at all ! Now, what the dickens have I to do with your landlord ? Paddles. What, sir! It's no good talking. I must have this money, or I can't pay my bills 1 Capper. Can't pay your bills ? Paddles. No, sir, I can't! Capper. You can't! And yet you have the face to come to me and insist upon my doing what you confess your inabihty to do yourself! Is this reasonable now? Paddles. I don't want to argue, sir. 14 WHICH IS WHICH? Capper. Neither do I — neither do I ! Paddles. What I want is money ! Capper. So do I — most confoundedly ! Paddles. I want money, I repeat ! Capper. Exactly what I'm always repeating — but I never get it! Paddles, [violently) But I intend to get mine before I go. Capper. Ah, but the best intentions sometimes go for nothing. Paddles. And if I don't Capper. Yes — I'm really curious as to the alternative. Paddles. I'll put you in the Court. Capper. Ah ! [rising] Good morning ! Paddles. I'll put you in the Court as sure as you're born, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself. Capper. Perhaps; but I was born to blush unseen, so — [knock] Gad! there's a knock. That must be Miss Pestle, surely. I must get him out. {to him) That's all settled, then. I knew that we should understand each other before we had done. This way ; this way out. [opening door L.) You'll put me in the Court? Yes, and present me yourself, won't you? [aside] By Jove ! there's the rustle of a dress ! [aloud] So good of you ! — come along. (Exit with Paddles, l., who is speechless with indignation] As they go out by side door, Mrs. Mills enters through folding doors conducting Annie and Bertha. Mrs. M. What name shall I say, please ? Bertha. Miss Pestle. Mrs. M. Only Miss Pestle ? Bertha. If you say Miss Pestle it will be quite enough. Exit Mrs. Mills, l. Annie. My dear Bertha, why not say both names ? He will think it so strange. Bertha. What will he think strange ? Annie. Why finding two people here, when he only expected one. Bertha. But, Annie, you surely don't suppose that Mr. Capper expects Miss Pestle to come and call upon him all by herself, do you ? He'd think that strange, if you Hke. Annie. I don't see why he should. I shouldn't if I were a man. Besides, Bertha, I believe he won't know which of us is which ! Bertha. Not ? Oh, Annie, I've such an idea : let us try whether he will or not. Annie. Try ? How ? Bertha. Why, leave him to find it out for himself. Throw no light upon the matter at all. Let him — what do they call it ? — evolve it from his own inner consciousness, you know. Annie. No, no. Bertha ! Bertha. Yes, yes, you must, to oblige me — come, you will. WHICH IS WHICH? 15 There ! hark! there's a door banged. He's coming. What grand fun ! Look at this picture. What is it, I wonder. Enter CAPPER, lightly, L. — He stops suddenly. Capper, [aside] Two of 'em! P'lushed a brace, by George! Well, but — hang it all ! — which is Bertha, [the Girls have their backs to him and are looking at picture) I think it's some one between Scylla and Charybdis. Capper, [aside) I think it is, indeed, [calling through door in a loud ivhisper) Here, Mills ! Mills I Enter Mrs. Mills, door l. Capper. Which is which ? Which is Miss Pestle, eh ? Mrs. M. Don't know, sir. They said if I said Miss Pestle it would do for both. Capper. Did they ? By Jove, it's done for me as well. Well, but, what is the other one's name —whichever is the other? Mrs. M. I can't say, sir. Capper. Then you can go. Mills. (Exit Mrs. Mills, C.) Old idiot ! 'Pon my word, this is excessively nasty. How the dickens am I to tell her that her image has never been effaced from my heart when I don't know her again when I see her? Well, it will be easy enough to find out. Here goes. Annie. I'll tell you what I think it is : it's the Judgment of Paris — only where' s Venus ? Capper, [aside] By Jove ! I should be at no loss where to look for Venus. An uncommonly pretty girl, [advancing) Will you let me explain ? [the Girls turn and bow — Capper bows) It is intended to illustrate the lines, "How happy could I be with either were t'other dear charmer away," and if it is a success — [aside) — the picture is, as the papers say, a worthy reflex of the painter's mind, [pulls easel round slightly, and, while doing so, speaks with- out looking at either Girl) May I hope that you like it, Miss Pestle ? [listening eagerly for the answer) Both. Oh yes. Capper, [aside] One at a time, please. Bertha. It's very pretty. Capper, [aside] This is she. [turning to her) Annie, [in a voice of deep admiration) It's charming. Capper, [aside] No, this is she. [in a soft voice turning towards her) And no one's praise could be so delighful as Bertha. Charming is no word for it. Capper, [aside] Stay. I'm wrong, [in a soft voice to Bertha) The labor of years is more than repaid by approval from such lips as — Annie, [pointing to another picture) Dear me, what a lovely face ! Exactly like one of Lawrence's. 1 6 WHICH IS WHICH f Capper, [aside) H'm ! First impressions are truest it seems. This is she. [in a soft voice /rices.^,,^i HAROLD ROORBACH, Publisher, 9 Murray St.. New York. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS HELMER'^ ACTOR'S MAKE-U A rrm*t leal and Systematic Guide to the Art c 013 742 334 g"^ PRICE, 25 CENTS. With exhaustive treatment on the Use of Theatrical Wigs and Beards, The Make-up and its requisite materials, the different features and their management, typical character Masks, etc. With Special Hints to Ladies. Designed for the , USE OF Actors and Amateurs, and for both Ladies and Gentle- , WEN. Copiously Illustrated. CONTENTS. L Theatrical Wigs.— The Style and Form of Theatrical Wigs snd Beards. The Color and Shading of Theatrical Wigs and Beards. Directions for Measuring the Head. To put on a Wig properly. n. Theatrical Beards. — How to fashion a Beard out of crep6 liair. How to make Beards of Wool. The growth of Beard simu- lated. ni. The Make-up. — A successful Character Mask, and how to inr.ks it. Perspiration during performance, how removed. IV. The Make-up Box. — Grease Paints. Grease paintL in sticks; Flesh Cream; Face Powder; How to use face powder as a liquid cream ; The various shades of face powder. Water Cos- xn6iique. Nose Putty. Court Plaster. Cocoa Butter. CrSp6 Hair ar«d Prepared Wool. Grenadine. Dorin's Rouge. "Old Man's" Rouge. "Juvenile" Rouge. Spirit Gum. Email Noir. Bear's Grease. Eyebrow Pencils. Artist's Stomps. Powder Puffs. Hares* Feet. Camels'-hair Brushes. V. The Features and their Treatment. — The Eyes : blind- ness. The Eyelids. The Eyebrows : How to paint out an eyebrow or moustache ; How to paste on eyebrows ; How to regulate bushy eye- brows. The Eyelashes : To alter the appearance of the eyes. The Ears. The Nose : A Roman nose; How to use the nose putty; A pug nose ; An African nose; a large nose apparently reduced in size. The Mouih and Lips : a juvenile mouth ; an old mouth ; a sensuous mouth ; a satirical mouth ; a one-sided mouth; a merry mouth ; A sullen mouth. The Teeth. The Neck, Arms, Hands and Finger- nails : Fingernails lengthened. Wrinkles: Friendliness and Sullen- ness indicated by wrinkles. Shading. A Starving character. A Cut in the Face. A Thin Face Made Fleshy. VI. Typical Character Masks. — The Make-up for Youth : Dimpled cheeks. Manhood. Middle Age. Making up as a Drunk- ard : One method ; another method. Old Age. Negroes. Moors. Chinese. King Lear, Shylock. Macbeth. Richelieu. Statuary. Clowns. VII. Special Hints to Ladies, — The Make-up. Theatrical Wigs and Hair Goods. Sent by mail, postpaid, to any address, on receipt of the price. HAROLD ROORBACH, Publisher, 9 Murray Street, New York.