Q J> s PS 635 .Z9 n4815 Copy 1 HO PLAYS EXCHANGED. iAKCR'5 Edition or PL7\Y3 ^ AUNT ABIGAIL AND THE BOYS Price, 15 Cents COPYRIGHT, 1889, BY WALTER H. BAKER & CO. n. U). Pinero's Plays Price» SO 0etits £acb THP AMA7nN^ Farce in Three Acts. Seven males, five fe- iri£i /\iflrl£<\/ilkJ males. Costumes, modern; scenery, not difficult. Plays a full evening. THE CABINET MINISTER SX, ':Jr/.JS^l: S," tumes, modern society; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. HANFlY FiTPK" Farce in Three Acts. Seven males, four fe- i/rlliLrl l/l\^lv males. Costimies, modern; scenery, two inte- riors. Plays two hours and a half. THI7 r'AV I APn niTFY Comedy in Four Acts. Four males, in£i UAl Li\JS\.U KlyJi^A. ten females. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors and an exterior. Plays a full evening. UTQ UniTQI? TM ni?ni71? Comedy in Four Acts. Nine males, niO niiUOi:! lll UIVLTEiIV iv,ur females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. THF linRRV UnDQC Comedy in Three Acts. Ten males, in£i nUDDl IlV/IViJi:i nve females. Costumes, modern; scenery easy. Plays two hours and a half. IpiC Drama in Five Acts. Seven males, seven females. Costumes, lIVlO modern ; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening. f AnV RnTTlSITIFFTI Play in Four Acts. Eight males, seven Lti\Ul Dl/UlllirULi females. Costumes, modern; scen- ery, four interiors, not easy. Plays a full evening. I FTTY I^^3,ma in Four Acts and an Epilogue. Ten males, five LiIIil 1 1 females. Costumes, modern; scenery complicated. Plays a full evening. THF MAr'IQTDATl? Farce in Three Acts. Twelve males, ini:i iTli\UIiJ 1 1\./\ I £i four females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interior. Plays two hours and a half. Sent prepaid on receipt of price by l^alter H. pafeer Sc Companp No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts Aunt Abigail and the Boys A Farce in One Act By LILLIE FULLER MERRIAM BOSTON WALTER H. BAKER & CO. 1913 Aunt Abigail and the Boys CHARACTERS Gerald Harris, a Harvard student living in private apart- ments. Bob Jennings, John Crannock, Bert London, Joe Weeks, Will Underwood, Fritz Himmelstein, Frank Sylvester, a Harvard senior in love with Geraldine, Aunt Abigail Perkins, a Ka7isas Suffragette. Geraldine Harris, iwijt sister to Gerald. Grocery Boy. Harvard students and friends of Gerald. Plays One Hour Copyright, 191 3, by Walter H. Baker & Co, / CI.D 33677 Aunt Abigail and the Boys SCENE. — A college boy's room at Harvard,— private apart- ments. Usual furiiishings — couch, Morris chair, pictures of football teams, tea-table, bookcase, screen, buffet with dishes, mirror , teakettle, golf clubs, baseball and football outfits, etc. (Curtain rises on an empty room. Door opens and GKV.AhT> Harris comes in from recitation, flings books and note- book into a corner, and is about to light a cigarette when he sees the mail and tears open a letter. Whistles.) Gkrald. Gorryation ! What do you know about this ? Here's a letter from my respected great aunt from Kansas, and it begins: ''Hotel Touraine, Boston, Mass., April 20th. My dear Geraldine." {Turns to envelope and reads address.) "Miss Geraldine Harris, 5 Eliot Terrace "—that's my street and number all right. Now that's what comes of naming a pair of twins Gerald and Geraldine. I could have told my fond parents how it would be right in the beginning, if they'd asked me. What in thunder does this mean ! {Reads on.) << I am anxious to see you, my dear niece. I want to assure myself that you are wise to set up bachelor-girl apartments, and especially so near that most objectionable institution, a college for men. I know it is quite the thing to do nowadays, quite ill faute," the old lady spells it— ill faute. {Shrugs shoulders and goes on.) ''I appreciate the desire of the woman of to- day to have an entirely separate existence quite apart from the narrowing influence of male society," hum, ''but it vvas un- heard of in my day and generation for a woman to live alone in apartments in the same town with her parents, and I may as well confess to a real feminine curiosity as to how the thing is done. I write this, therefore, to tell you that I am staying at the Touraine for a few days, and that I shall go out from Bos- 4 AUNT ABIGAIL AND THE BOYS ton in time to lunch with you to-morrow. Perhaps you will like to return with me to the matinee. I have tickets for the all woman cast at the Bijou Dream for the benefit of unmarried working women. I hope to find you a girl after my own heart — one who can sympathize with me in my aversion to the op- posite sex — one who goes on her dignified way asking and con- ferring no favors upon men in any form. I cannot forbear hint- ing to you that should I find you my ideal girl, the future may be full of opportunities for you. It has always been a regret to me that my grand nieces are unknown to me, but I have taken this journey East expressly to make their acquaintance, and 1 know I shall not be disappointed. Affectionately yours, Abi- gail Perkins." (^Looks at date.') Written last night ! Wow ! I don't mind saying that's a corker ! She thinks Geraldine lives here, by all that's good and great. I'll call up the Touraine and set her straight on that. {Goes to telepho7ie.) Hullo, give me Tremont 880 Yes Hullo, Touraine? Is Miss Abigail Perkins there? All right. {Waifs.) What's that ? Gone out ? Won't be back till when ? Oh ! all right. Good-bye. {Hangs up the ielepJioiie and drops limply into a chair.) The old lady's started for Cambridge probably, and there's no heading her off. Mother and Geraldine are in New York, too. Confound it ! that's too bad, for Aunt Abigail's favor is worth having. Guess I'd better straighten up a bit. {Begins to put things tinder couch and into drawers.) Didn't know things did look so bad here. It'll just confirm her aver- sion to the opposite sex to see me here — quite a shock to our Kansas relative — not that I'm much of a man to look at. {Goes to mirror.) Gee ! I wish I was as big as Worthington. I'm not much taller than Geraldine, and I'm the boy of the pair. I look like a girl, too, dang it, if this mop would only straighten out. (Brushes hair.) Belter doll up a bit, Gerald, and get into a biled shirt. These men-haters won't stand for soft collars and old cravats. If they've got to speak to a man they want him nice and starchy, "quite ill faute," as my Aunt Abigail says. {Disappears into the bedroom. Comes out in wovian^ s dress and wig, but man'' s shoes. Prances about and looks at himself in 7nirror.) Well, if ever two people looked alike it's my twin and I. I didn't suppose when I lugged Geraldine's suit-case up here the night before she went to New York with her Dramatic Club costume in it, that it was ever going to save the day for me and help me make a good impres- sion on my Kansas auntie. Gee ! I forgot to change my AUNT ABIGAIL AND THE BOYS C shoes. Wonder if I can get Geraldine's on. {Dlsaf^pears. Comes back in despair.) Can't get 'em within a luiie. ' Won- der why the same sized boy has so much bigger hands and feet than a girl ! Oh ! Luddy, 1 never thought about her expect- mg me to go out to lunch with her. Why, I couldn't i)ossibly, — no hat, and 1 can't wear the gloves. This is no go. 1 must get out of this rig and be a poor unfortunate man with nothing ill the future for me. {Starts for bedroom, but a knock at the door is followed by the eiitratice at once of Aunt Abigail Perkins, a womuji about sixty five. Aunt K.'s face expresses surprise at first, but she advances to her niece who stands awkwardly by the Af orris chair for a mo7nent. Throughout Gerald tries to conceal his shoes. ) Aunt A. I'm sure this is Geraldine. Have I surprised you, or did you get my letter ? I am your Aunt Abigail Per- kins from Kansas. {She puts up her face to be kissed, at which Gerald looks rather peculiar. He kisses her, offering his hand and places her in a chair.) Gerald {voice feminine). I was just a little surprised, for the moment. Aunt Abigail. The janitor has always been par- ticular to bring names up, but you must have got by him. Aunt A. Oh ! no, 1 didn't pass him, for he was nowhere to be seen, so I just came right up. I felt that you would be expecting me, and wouldn't mind my coming right in. Gerald. Certainly not. {Ufieasy glances about at things not in order ; pictures, etc.) Aunt A. In short my curiosity was so great to see just how you were living, — your rooms, your furnishings and, I confess, just what your idea of housekeeping is — (/^/////^ Gerald on cheek), that I could hardly wait to get here. This is a pleasant living-room. Are your other rooms as sunny? Gerald. Why, ah, yes — er — I have only one more ; my sleeping-room and a coal closet, you know. Aunt A. Oh, indeed ! Well, before you show me about, let me ask for your father and mother and' your brother ; your twin, is he not ? Gerald. Yes, we are twins. Aunt A. Does the family live far from here ? 6 AUNT ABIGAIL AND THE BOYS Gerald. Only the next street. I'm sorry to say moiher and Gerald are in New York this week — looking after millinery. I, that is to say, — (Aunt A. looks surprised, t/ien folds her hands with ati air of " I told you so ") mother is, and Gerald always helps her. Aunt A. {severely). Well, I'm glad you didn't feel it necessary to go two hundred miles after a hat, and your brother's going only proves to me that men are at heart frivo- lous creatures with minds set strongly upon vanity and external things. I am glad to find you in Cambridge instead of Gerald, for, to tell you truly, my aversion is men, and particularly boys. I hope you feel just as I do about it. Gerald. Certainly, auntie. {Conversation languishes for a moment, then Gerald starts sudde7ily.) My dear aunt, I am forgetting my duties as hostess. Let me take your wraps into my bedroom. (He assists her out of her wraps and is about to go into the bedroom with them.) Aunt A. Let me go right in with you. There's my suit- case. I brought along another gown to put on before we go back to town. Gerald. Just a moment, auntie, I want to straighten up a bit. Aunt A. Oh, all right. Just call me when you're ready. I'll sit here and look around at your pictures and things. (Gerald goes into bedrootn carrying suit-case. He glances back ifi dismay. Aunt A., from the Morris chair.) I sup- pose a room is the unconscious expression of the occupant's taste. I will confess that I had thought I should find Gerald- ine's a little more refined. I don't quite understand why she need have that great Harvard banner covering the wall paper, when there was a fine chance to hang some good copies of the old masters. {Picks up S7aimming team pictures from table.) Oh ! dear me, what an array of boys in low necks and short sleeves and very short trousers. Does this seem quite the thing for a young woman of good family to surround herself wilh ? ( Walks about the roojn.) She has some good books, but here's a large space given up to Spalding's books on sports, — tennis, baseball, football, {Finds baseball bat, mil and ball on table.) Mercy, I hope my niece isn't one of those freaks, a female base- ball player. (Finds golf clubs.) She must play golf; that isn't so bad, although I must say, I think the crochet needle is AUNT ABIGAIL AND THE BOYS 7 more becoming to the feminine hand than a golf stick. Such pretty things are made now in Irish crochet, and it is so easily carried to Travel Club meetings and Literature Classes — ^just a litde bag on your forefinger and cverylhing with you. What a collection of beer mugs ! Heavens, can I believe my nose ? They have every one been used ! (Smells of each with grhnacc. ) She must have learned the use of beer that winter her father sent her to Munich. 1 declare it's hard to fancy such a very pretty feminine-looking girl drinking real beer like a fat Ger- man. (Gerald has overheard this and ivithdraws his head from bedroom door tvith expressio?i of disgust. Aunt A. coii- ti fines to go about on her voyage of discovery — runs her fnger over furniture^ wiping dust from it tvith handkerchiefs etc. Behind a pile of books on table she finds pipes and a box of cigarettes and far of tobacco. She goes through pantomifne.') Well, well, well, this is pretty bad. {Holds up pipe.') Is this what it means to be a bachelor- girl? To be a bachelor-girl means that you do everything a man does as nearly as you can. However {thoitghlfully), it may indicate that very emancipa- tion from masculine rule that it has so long been my ambition to establish, and if my young niece has found the solution to be this — to assert in every way her right to do the identical things that man-made society laws prohibit — then she may be nearer than I to the golden goal, the great achievement. {Looks about.) There doesn't seem to be any beer to drink, but I can put a cigarette in my mouth. {Puts cigarette between teeth with evident distaste.) I don't dare light it — ugh — and I've always wanted to get hi)Id of a golf club. (Takes stick from holder, and still holding cigarette in her mouth, in rather frightened tones calls.) Fore ! Gerald (cofuing out of bedroom). There, auntie (Aunt A. drops cigarette afid go f stick), the room is all in order now if you want to change your dress. I'm sorry our *' goody " is so late to-day. She's a pretty slack old thing. Aunt A. Goody ? I thought only men's apartments had goodys. Gerald. Well, perhaps so in the West, but here we all have them who live in this way. Aunt A. Oh! (^Starts for bedroom.) What time do you go to lunch, or do you get your own here ? Gerald. Oh ! I always go out {bethinking himself), but to-day wouldn't you like a cup of tea right here with me, just we two? (Insinuatingly.) 8 AUNT ABIGAIL AND THE BOYS Aunt A. Certainly; it would be a pleasure. I always en- joy being alone with my own sex. It would save time, for we'll have to start in town a little early for the matinee. (^Disappears into bedroo7n.') Gerald. Oh ! Lord ! I'm in a scrape, believe me. I haven't a grain of tea in the room (Jiuiiting about'), nothing but bottled stuff — the cracker-box is empty, and how can I get out to get anything ? I can telephone, but the boy who brings it up will give me dead away. Perhaps I can manage to have Aunt Abigail take in the stuff when it comes. {Goes to te/ephofie.) Cambridge 3869 M Hello, Grey's Grocery? (^Feminine voice.) Will you send over to Room 42, 5 Eliot Terrace, a pound of best tea — Orange Pekoe — and a box of Educator Toasterettes ? Let me see — a dozen lemons, a pound of block sugar, and say ! go into that bake shop next door and get me a sheet of gingerbread. Say! hurry up, will you? What's that ? Charge it to me. What ? Why, you know me ! Sure you do. Pve bought things of you for two years. Yes, Ger- ald-ine Harris. Well, you know 6^