s 635 NO PLAYS EXCHANGED. Z9 ZU ^HER'5 CdITIoN or PL7\Y3 ^. PS -0 A RUEAL RUSE COPYRIGHT, 1889, BY WALTER H. BAKER & CO. B AKER'S SELECTED LIST OF JUVENILE OPERETTA5 Designed especially for Church, School, and other Amateur Organ- izations. Complete, with all the music and full directions for performance. Grandpa's Birthday. In One Act. Words by Dexter Smith; music by C. A. Wurnc. For one adult (male or female) and Ibree cliildren; cliorus, if desired. Pkice, 25 Cents. Jimmy, The Newsboy. In One Act. Written and composed by W. C. Pakkek. For one adult (male), and one boy. No cborus. Very easy and tuneful. Price, 25 Cents. The Four-leafed Clover. In Three Acts. By Maky B. IIorne. For cliildren of from six to fifteen years. Seven boys, seven girls, and chorus. Very picturesque. Price, 50 Cents. Beans and Buttons. In One Act. Words by Wm. H. Lepere; music by Alfred G. Robyn. T\vo male and two female cbaracters; no chorus. Very comical and easy. Price, 50 Cents. Hunt the Thimble. In One Act. Words by A. G. Lewis; music by Leo It. Lewis. Two male, two female cbaracters and small cborus. Simple and pretty. Price, 50 Cents. Red Riding Hood's Rescue. In Four Scenes. Words by J. E. Estabrook; music by J. Astor Broad. Three male, four female characters and chorus. Price, 50 Cents, Golden Hair and the Three Bears. In Five Scenes. By J. Astor Broad. Three adults (2 m., 1 f.), eight children and chorus. Music is easy, graceful, and pleasing. Price, 75 Cents. R. E. Porter ; or, The Intervie-wer and the Fairies. In Three Acts. Words by A. G. Lewis; music by Leo R. Lewis. Six male, six female characters, and chorus. Very picturesque and pretty. Price, 75 Cents. Gyp, Junior. In Two Acts. Words by Earl Marble; music by D. F. Hodges. Two males, one female (adult), tliree cliildren and chorus. Very successful and easily produced. Price, 75 Cents. Alvin Gray ; or. The Sailor's Return. In Tliree Acts. Written and composed by C. A. White, Ten characters, including cborus; can be made more effective by employing a larger number. Price, 75 Cents. Catalogues describing the above and other popular entertain- jnents sent free on application to WALTER H. BAKER & CO., THEATRICAL PUBLISHERS, No. 23 Winter Street, - Boston, Mass. A RURAL RUSE a Cometig in ©ite ^ct BY MARY A. WINSTON ^^ BOSTON 1S93 ■0 CHARACTERS. >,0 A V SOLOMON SLENKER, a ividoxver. AMOS BURNS, Pansy's lover. PANSY WESTON, a roviantic viaideti of eighteen. CONTENT WESTON, Pansy's maiden mint. Scene. — A country kitchen. Time. — The present. Copyright, 1893, by Walter H. Baker & Co. COSTUMES. Solomon Slenker. — Country farmer; wears shabby old clothes; rather bald ; age, fifty. Amos Burns. — An ordinary young man ; plainly dressed ; age, twenty-five. Content Weston. — A lively old maid, with curls and spectacles; old- fashioned dress. Pansy Weston. — An impulsive young girl of eighteen. In first appear- ance, wears cliecked gingham with skirt pinned up ; in second appearance, wears some pretty, light gown. TMP92-007657 A RURAL RUSE. Scene. — Aunt Content's kitchen. Window at one side. Pantry door at the other. Outside door at back. FurnisJicd with stove, table. Clipboard, laj'ge high-back chair, and two or three common chairs. Pansy {discovered at wash-tub ; sings) . " I love my love in the morning; I love my love in the night ; I love my love the whole day long; And he is my delight." {Walks over and throws garment into clothes-basket.') There, thank goodness, that's the last! Oh, my, but I'm tired to death! Guess I'll read a while and rest. {Huiits in cupboard.) Why, where — where — here it is! Such a jolly book ! {Sits.) Aunt Content don't know I've got a new novel, or she'd be just crazy. {Enter Solomon Slenker.) Sol. S. Hello, Pansy ! • Aunt to hum to-day? Pansy. Why, Uncle Sol! I'm glad to see you. Come right in and take a seat. No ; Aunt Content is out, doing some errands, but I guess she'll be back soon. Come in, won't you, and wait for her. Sol. S. Wal, I don't keer ef I do. My harness guv out on the way down Jim Parsons's hill, and I sez, sez I, I'll jest tie up my hoss in the meetin'-house shed, an' whiles Tm a-splicin' this gear I'll run in an' see the Weston gals a spell. {Sits and begins to mend harness.) Pansy. The Weston girls? Oh ! Sol, S. That's all right, ain't it? You an' your Aunt Content might both be called gals, I take it, seein' ez she's a-bloomin' alone ez yit on the stalk, without no twin rose blushin' beside her. Pansy. Why, Uncle Sol, you're getting poetical ! How are all your folks to-day? Sol. S. Right peart an' smart, Pansy. To be shore, when a man's blessed wiili nine beautiiul s]3rou[in' young olive l)ranches, ez I be, there's bound to be some on "em out o' kilter. But jest at present speakin', things is purty quiet up our way. All the younges' 3 4 A RURAL RUSE. uns hez kem down with the measles. Aella hez fell out o' a tree an' broke his nose, which made him holler some fer a spell, an' Euphrasy hez got a beau. Pansy. O Uncle Sol, you don't mean it! Euphrasy Slenker got a beau ! Sol. S. Shore ez shootin', Pansy. That gal hez made up her mind to shake her old dad an' tackle onto another feller. I won't say but what I was ez much sot back ez you be when I fust hearn tell on it. You see, Euphrasy hez ben a-keepin' house fer me ever sense her second step-ma departed this life, an' she's alius foun' sech a sight o' work to do about the place, she hain't never hed no time to be fussin' with beaus. But Euphrasy ez a mighty smart gal, I kin tell you, an' when the right feller kem along, she managed •somehow to git in a little courtin' between times, when she wa'n't nussin' measles er makin' butter fer market. Pansy. Who's the young man, Uncle Sol? That's what Pm interested to know^ Sol. S. The young feller? It's young Bowers from Tipton. Pansy. Goodness ! what ever can she see in that stupid stick of a man ? Sol. S. Tut, tut, Pansy! Young Bowers is right smart of a chap, now, an' well able to pervide fer a wife. Euphrasy's gittin' a good husband. But ez fer me, gals in love is beyun' my compre- henshun. Euphrasy, now, ain't no use the whole blessed week. All day Sunday she's lookin' down the road, expectin' he'll come, an' Sunday evenin' she can't think o' nothin' else 'cause he's there. She's sleepy an' kinder dreamy Monday. Tuesday an' Wednes- day she ain't no better— jest slimpsy an' good-fer-nothin'. Thursday she begins to look off towards Sunday agin, an' mopes roun', an' lets the cat lap up all the cream right under her nose. Fri- day slie burns the biscuit, an' goes off in the best room and snivels an' looks out o' the winder. Saturday she hez queer spurts. o' workin' like all possessed, an' spurts o' frizzin' her hair. An' Sunday she begins it all over agin. I declare fer it, wimmin folks is cur'us cattle. What's that you got there, Pansy? A book? Pm some interested in literatoor myself. Every one o' my young uns' names kem out o' the Greek dictionary. I tell you, Pve studied it a lot, an' you won't find nine more elegant names in the hull United States of Americky. There's Aella an' there's Arety, Vs'hich means — Pansy. Yes, I know, Uncle Sol. But this isn't Greek. It's a novel — all about a girl who was in love. Sol. S. {in disgust). About a gal, is it? Wal, fer my part, I can't 'low ez I'd keer to spend much lime readin' about them. Gals is giddy creeturs. Pansy. Look out, I'm a girl myself. Uncle Sol. Oh, but I do wish I was a girl in a book. Real life is so stupid and humdrum. I just long for something to happen — something real romantic and exciting, something that didn't happen yesterday, last week, A RURAL RUSE. 5 last year, and always. I'm so tired of all the old happenings. Now, this girl in here {looking at book), had such a romantic time. She had a lover, a liandsome noble one ; she hadn't known him always. He came walking into her yard one day, when she was feeding the chickens, in a blue cotton gown, and her sleeves rolled up. He carried a sketching-box over his shoulder. He was an artist staying on a yacht near by, and he fell in love with her right off, but her parents were country folks, and objected. So tliey eloped, and oh, it was so interesting. Why can't something like that happen to me? I never feed the chickens now but I tl.ink of it, and try to look real sweet. But nobody ever comes — nobody, that is, but Amos. He's pretty sure to hang over the back fence and say, "Hello, Pan!". "Pan," indeed! ""Haven't I told him a hundred times that my name is Pansy, not Pan. But there's no making anything romantic out of Amos. He'll always be just Amos, and that's all. And to think he is the only lover I have, or am likely to have, and Aunt Content will have it that I must marry him. I heard her talking to you about it the other day, Uncle Sol. Sol. S. Wal, Pansy, I must say, ye might do wuss, child, a sight wuss. Amos Burns ez a good honest feller ez gives two pints to the quart every time. Pd like to see ye hitched to so good a man ez Amos, Pansy. Pansy. Marry Amos ! Why, Pve always known him ! His back yard's always backed up to our back yard. {Poi'jits out of window.') Pel as soon think of marrying Beelzebub, the black pig out tb.ere ! Sol. S. Come, come, Pansy, ain't you a leetle mite hard on the pore feller. I ain't never hearn no one else call him a hog but you. Pansy (penitently). No, that isn't quite i'air. Amos isn't a pig — he never was, but always the same big. unselfish, dear old thing. {Sits on. table and swi/ig? feet reflectively.) He al\\ays used to put the worms on my hook for me when we v.ent fishing, and he would carry me over the rough places when we were blue- berrying on the hill. That's when we were young, of course. He was really quite nice then. But he is so tiresome now, wanting to make love, and putting notions in Aunt Content's head about mar- rying me. I don't want to marry him! I want somebody interest- ing, who will do something in the world. Sol. S. (going to ivindow). Wal, I declare, now, ef thet doosn't beat all ! Thet consarned storm last night hez blown down every last one o' them bean-poles in your garden. Hain't you noticed it afore ? Pansy (running to ivindow). No, you don't mean it ! Why. so it has ! Aunt Content will be in a fidget. We'll have to get Amos to fix 'em when he comes in to-night. (Comes back, picks up book, and stands Jiolding it.) Yes, I want to marry somebody that can do someth.ing in the world. — draw pictures or write books or something. But, bless me! what'll Amos ever do but keep a little country store right here in Pitcherville .'' and what'll he ever 6 A RURAL RUSE. draw besides molasses for his customers? or what'll he ever write but bills which he never can get paid for? Dear me, what a pros- pect in life ! {Goes io table '^ prepares to sit oil it \ feels its lej^s.) What do you suppose makes that table so rickety? It's fairly wobbly. Guess I'll ask Amos to take a hammer and nails to it some day soon. No, no, I know just how it'll always be wilh Amos. He'll go on always keeping store, and he'll always go on o-iving awav taffy and gingerbread squares to all the little girls who come to the store, and p;U them on the head and say, " There now, little lass, run home to mother." That's the way he does now, and when I say anything about economy, he only looks silly and says, *' I can't help it, Pan. They remind me so of when you' were just such a little one." And that's so stupid of him! Oh, why can't soinethin-j; romantic happen ? {Picks up clothes-basket and clothes- pins. Goes to door, drops basket, and runs back.) Oh, my good- ness ! where's my sunbonnet? {Rnns around frantically.) That wicked old pig Beelzebub! He's in the garden, rooting up all Aunt Content's squash and peas. He got out of that hole under his pen, 1 know. Amos must fill it up to-night. {Exit) Sol. S. {winking). Wants '-some un cz'll do somethin' in the world," doos she? Wal, it 'pears to me like ez how Amos Burns doos stand a mighty fair show of gittin' his share to do ; ef Pansy hezanythin' to say about it, thet is. Lord ! she's mapped out three neat little chores fer him right here on the spot, all in one breath ; sech ez sottin"' out bean-poles, tinkerin' a table, an' fillin" up a pig-pen. 'Tain't likely pore Anios'U git much of a chance to stan' roun' idle. Aunt Content {bustling in, falls over clothes-basket). Pansy ! Pansy! My land, where's thet girl? Here the hull afternoon's 'most gone, an' them clothes ain't on the line yit ! Did you ever see secii a young giddy-pale? {Goes to stove.) Ez I thought! Fire all out, an' supper-time comin' on ! Sakes alive! I must flax around ! {Hurries to lay off bonnet on table. Does 7iot see Soi.. S., who sits in high-back chair dozvn front. Does see Pansy's novel.) Now I want to know — ef that gal ain't ben an' got anoth.er novel out o' thet circulating library, an' she thet chock full o' foolishness an' silly romanticness now, there ain't no livin' with her! {Hides book.) There ! it'll be some lime afore she finds thet one agin. My stars, I don't know what I'll do with thet child! Her notions about romanlic lovers an' all thet bosh is enough to make a body sick. {Proceeds to drop off' skirt of dress, and put on a calico one hanging up beJund door. Throws first shazvl and then skirt over back of Soh. S.'s chair, covering Jiini. Goes to pantry for apron.) Sol. S. {emerges from under skirt). Wal, this is what ye might call the reign (rain) o' the petticoat! Aunt C. But it all comes o' thet heathenish silly name Pansy, thet her pore deluded mother would give her. It's a jedgment on us fer namin' any child so. Now, I wanted her called Mehitnble Hanner, after her grandmother. {Sees Sol. S.) Wal, now, Sol- omon Slenker, what a start you give a body, I do declare ! My I A RURAL RUSE. / you kep' still ez a mouse, didn't 3'ou ? How air you all on the hill, anyway? Good gracious, Solomon Slenker, give me thet dress ! I kem purty near cndressin' afore ye ! Sol. S. You see, Content, }0u ain't give me a chance. You've ben a-runnin' on here so fast, thet a slow old feller like me wa'n't able fer to shove in a word aidgewise. You know. Content, I wa'n't never anywheres nigh you on quickness. Remember them times when we used to go to the little old red school-house to- gether, nigh on to forty years ago, Content, — nigh on to forty years ago? Aunt C. {sharply'). Don't you set there a-remindin' me of how old I be, Solomon Slenker. I know all about it fast enough. XSits to peel potatoes.') I s'pose you hearn my talk about Pan's actions. I declare, I can't do nothin' fer worritin' over her con- trariness. Now, Mis' Burns, Amos's ma, 'lowed to me a while ago, thet it was a perfect shame the way Pan treated Amos last Friday night at the strawberry sociable, when he's kep' comp'ny with her tiiese two years. It's all along o' her romanticness ; but land sakes, what could I do ? So I unly sez, sez I, " Wal, you know, Mis' Burns, young gals will hev their notions now an' then." I declare, Pan makes me so mad, turnin' up her nose at Amos Burns, when he's the very pick o' the place, ez Pve often told her, — a nice, stiddy young man ; not much ez to looks, to be shore, but good ez gokL She'll never git no better hust)and. But I know ez well ez I want ter know, what Pan Weston is fixin' fer to be, — she's goin' to be an old maid, sure ez I set here. An' all I kin say is, " The Lord forbid!" 'Tain't thet I'm quarrelin' with my lot in life. Content is my name, an' contented 1 be. But there's some things about bein' an old maid ez is hard to bear. It's all well enough when ye air young not to be tackled onto any man. but when ye gits old, nobody wants you nowhere, an' ye air alone. An' I ain't sayin' 'tain't a forlorn life to live. Now, Pm shore I ain't no fonder of a nice bit o' news than Mis' Deacon Jones, ner Mis' Storekeeper Snith, ner Mis' Dr. Green, an' I notice they every one o' em git right lip into my very face, 'most, when I'm only gi\in' 'em what Pve liearn from others, yit they turn 'roun' an' call me tale-bearin' Old Maid Weston before I'm out o' ear-shot. Old maids gits all the hard kicks in this world. I tell ye. Old Maid Weston I've lived, an' Old Maid Weston I s'pose I'll die. But I ain't goin' to leave the title to my niece Pansy — not ef I kin help it. Sol. S. Wal, wal, Content, mebbe ye're right. But I must be a-goin' now, I uuess. My advice to ye is. — don't worry. Content, don't worrv. It don't pay. Ye mind me of a fussin' hen with one chicken. VVhat'd' ye do now. Content, ef ye had nine on 'cm ez I hev? What 'd' ye do. Content? Aunt C. {^sivipei-inS)- Lor', now. Sol, what a question to psk. Ef the Lord hed saw fit to send me so many, why, Solomon Slen- ker, I sh'd try to put up with 'em. That's all. Sol. S. {aside). Ca'm an' cool's ever! 8 A RURAL RUSE. Aunt C. Hedn't you better stop to tea, Solomon? It'll be ready ^fore long. Sol. S. Thank ye, Content, thank ye. Vd be main glad to stay. Victuals ain't'much 'roun' our place lately. Euphrasy ain't sech a marster hand at biscuit ez slie used to be. But Til run over to the tin shop while ye're gitlin' ready. I want to see old man Cole a minute. (Ex/L) Pansy {ricnning in out of breath ; sinks into chair'). O Aunt Content, Beelzebub got out of his pen ; I've been chasing him — and of all the contrary pigs in the world, he's the worst! Aunt C. Pan Weston, what under the canopy's goin' to become of you, when you git so romantic you cut Amos Burns at a sociable, an' don't hang out your wash afore five o'clock of a Mon- day? I'm sure I don't know what you're comin' to. Pansy {wearily). I told you once. Amos Burns tired me dread- fully, aunt, he's so stupid and commonplace. I'll go and hang out the clothes now. {Picks up basket ; exit.) Aunt C. {begins to lay the table). " Stupid an' commonplace," indeed! {Wrathfnlly.) My lady wants one o' them folderol courtships with 'moonshine an' stolen meetin's an' secret letters an' sech-like trash in books ! But how kin she hev them with Mis' Burns an' me both a-dyin' to see them young uns spliced, an' a-favorin' it all we kin. while Amos is ez full o' common-sense ez an egg is o' meat. {Pauses with cup in hand; tJieu joyfully.) I hev it; I hev it! Til shovel the romance into this here courtship by the bushel! I tell ye, things"ll be hot aroun' here! It's a glorious idee ! I'd be willin' to bet 'most anythin' Pan an' Amos'll be merried inside o' two months! {Fills tea-kettle., singing., ''''In the Sivect By and By.''"') Pansy {shoucing from yard). O Aunt Content, I see Mrs. J. Bowen coming down over the hill, and if she hasn't got on a new dark green suit ! Aunt C. {sJiouting front window). Shore enough ! Ef that don't beat all ! An' they owin' Amos about two hundred dollars at the store fer provisions an' sech. Pansy {from the yard). Jim Powers just drove by with that forward Mrs. Ayres in his new buggy. Aunt C. {from the window ). " T want to know ! They do say, though, thet he spends most o' his time over there, an' neglects his wife terrible. I don't know what tlic menfolks are a-comin' to. They're all o' a piece, I guess. {Enter Pansy.) Even them ez you've trusted sence they was babies ain't turnin' out so good ez ihey might be. Pansy. Why, aunt, what do you mean? Aunt C. Never you mind. I don't want you to feel bad, so I guess 1 won't tell you. Now run along, child, an' tidy up a bit fer supper. {Exit Pansy.) Aunt C. I've begun that air romance! She'll be a-wonderin' who I mean. {Takes up knitting; calls.) Pansy, that fat Marae A RURAL RUSE. 9 Green's gone an' got a new leghorn flat trimmed with dalilias, mind you, an' her face ez red ez a beet now ! Paxsv {returning luith hair down). Wliat taste ! {Exii.) Aunt C. {calling again). They're all sick with the scarlet-fever at the Mosher farm. I see the red flag myself. Paxsy (^returning with waist unfastened). Guess you took in the whole town to-day, didn't you, Aunt Content? (Exit.) Aunt C. {calling again). Pansy, I stopped in at Elder Press- man's, an' their cow gives ten quarts o' milk a day, an' sech cream you never saw ! I've about made up my mind to git my butter there stid o' at the store. Pansy {returning with skirt dropping off). What'll Amos think, aunt, if you trade somewhere else? {Exit.) Aunt C. {calling). You better git on to your room er you'll be ondressed afore you git there. Hurry up now, an' don't prink all day. {Enter Solomon Slenker.) Aunt C. Thefs right, Sol, take oflf your hat. We'll draw right up, I guess. Pan'Il be down soon's she prinks up a bit. Sol. S. {aside). Now's my chance. {Aloud.) Your talkin' about gittin' Pansy settled fer life reminds me o' Euphrasy's in- tention o' embarkin' on the sea o' matrimony. Aunt C. I Avant to know! Is Euphrasy a-goin' to git hitched? To who, lemme ask. Sol. S. Ned Bowers from Tipton is the feller. Ahem ! — Wal, you know. Content, I wa'n't never no hand to beat about the bush. My darter is goin' to leave me, and the next oldes' gal, Arety, ain't stiddy enough to keer fer sech a big family. The long an' the short o' it is. Content, I kem down here to-day a-lookin' fer a wife. You ain't foun' it easy to patch up matters 'tween Pan an' Amos, per- haps ye'll find it more satisfoctory like to settle this here courtship o' mine. Aunt C. {aside). Fer the land sakes ! Ef the man ain't after Pansy fer his fourth wife! Sol. S. You've knowed me considerable of a long time, Content, an' I ain't a hard man to git along with. Say ye'll give your con- sent, won't ye. Content? Aunt C. Wal, Solomon Slenker, it doos beat all, your even thinkin' o' sech a thing! But I ain't sayin' nothin' yit, 'cause I kinder want fust to see ef a leetle scheme I've ben a-contrivin' is a-goin' to work. Sol. S. Sorter looks ez ef some other feller wuz up to the same :ame ez me Aunt C. Thet's a right big farm o' yourn, Solomon, an' I cal- late tliere's sights o' work to be done on it. Don't ye think, Solomon, ye're sorter crnzy to expect a gal kin take all thet keer on her back when she ain't been trained to it ez your Euphrasy hez ben ? An' how do ye s'pose thet big family o' yourn'll look to a lO A RURAL RUSE. Sol. S. {in ainasefneni'). A young gal ! a young; crnl, Content ! It liain"t struck me noways ihct \oungness wuz a-goin' to interfere in this here business. Tears to me thet any one ez hez went to iichool — Aunt C. {intef-niptiuo^. Hez went to school! My stars an' garters, Sok^non Slenker, you ain't gone clean daft, air you? You ain't caliatin', I hope, thet goin' to school hez larned a young thing how to do all the work on a big dairy farm, besides takin' keer of a strappin' family o' eight young uns when she ain't ever had none of her own yit. Sol. S. Without meanin' no disrespeck to you, Content, I \v-ill say agin that it's my opinion 't any one ez iiez went to school — Aunt C. There you go agin. I declare, Solomon Slenker, you'll make me mad shore enough, talkin' your fool nonsense. Sol. S. Wal, Content, of course ef you will look at it thet way, 'tainl no use o* my argityin' with ye. But Tni a man ez generally finishes up what I start out fer to do. So I'll jest say agin thet any one ez hez went to school nii^h onto forty year ago witli me, an' sot on the same bench, an' got lickin's from the same wilier switch, ez I done, ain"t jest what I'd call a young spring pullet, though fur be it from me to speak of the same ez an eld hen, ez I might. Aunt C. O Solomon, ketch me! Fm a-goin' to fall! I — I thought you kem a-courtin' Pansy all this time. An' it's me you mean. Sol. S. Wal, I swan ! I thought ye was gittin' crazy. Content. You didn't s'pose I'm settin' up to be that romantic swell dude Pansy's lookin' out fer ? It's }ou, really you, I want, Content. You've owned up a while ago, afore 3-ou knowed I kem a-courtin' you, thet vou wuz lonesome-like ; an' ye'll be wuss when Pan gits spliced. Better say yes. Content. I'll be a good mate to ye, I promise. Aunt C. I declare. I'm so took back ez I don't skercely sense whether I he on my head er my heels! Solomon, I didn't never dream o' this. I — I — Sol. S. Is it yes. Content? Out with it ! Aunt C. Wal. then, yes ! Sol. S. All right. Thet settles it. Now, Content, I guess I'll take another one o' them biscuit, ef you don't mind. (Pansy heard singing outside, "/ Love my Love in the liforning.''') Aunt C. There's Pan a-comin', Sol ; I guess I'll jest run up-stairs a minute, to kinder settle myself some. (Exit.) Pansy (entering). All alone, Uncle Sol ? Where's Aunt Content ? Sol. S. Set down, leetle Pansy, set down ; your aunt'll be back direcl.ly. Hullo! here comes Amos up the walk. Run, let him in. Pansy. Pansy (petu/antij'). Indeed and I won't do any such thing! A RURAL RUSE. II He can waP- in himself. He's done it before. I won't see him at all ; so there! Vm sick to death of seeing him forever and always, and no one else. I'll eat in the pantry. {Exit.) huo?, {entering). How d'y'do, Uncle Sol ? All alone ? Where's everybody ? Sol. S. Wal, Amos, don't you worry about it, but Pansy wuz took wiih a lit a minute ago, an' — Amos. A fit, Uncle Sol! Good Heavens! is she badly off.^ How can you sit there so cool ? What kind of a fit was it '^. Sol. S. Easy, Amos, easy. Don't you git excited. Her aunt 'lows she's often took this way ; an' I'll give it ez my opinion thet it runs in the family. I reckon she'll come right out o' tliis one; anyways, don't you fret over it, Amos, fer Til 'low right here thet it wa'n't nothin' but a fit o' contrariness. Bat ye mustn't build too much on airthly hopes, Amos. The good Book sez, you know, "All flesh is grass." An' so it is, Amos. " All flesh is grass." Amos. She isn't, Uncle Sol. She's a pansy. Sol. S. And her aunt, Amos, her aj.uit is a daisy. Amos. Her aunt? Why, Uncle Sol, what's the matter ? You're looking uncommonly jolly. Why,- you don't mean that — Sol. S. Yes, sir. That's jest what I mean. Shake, Amos, shake with a man an' a brother! Amos. I congratulate you, Uncle Sol. Long life an' happiness to you! I only wish 1 was settled that way myself. {Enter Aunt Content.) Aunt C. (/// lond, angry tone). Amos Bums, you here in my house ! You dare to show your face before me an' my innercent little gal! There, sir, there is the door. Put yourself on to the outside of it, double quick! Do you hear? (Pansy appears at pantry door.) Sol. S. Tut-tut, Content ; don't get so rufiled up! Amos. Why, Aunt Content, what have I done? What makes you speak to me like this? {Moves toward Pansy.) Aunt C. And you've got the owdacity to ask me, 7ne what you done ! Leave this house now, this minute. I ain't a-goin' to l.ev any sech young whipper-snapper foolin' roun' my niece ! Amos. I'm going. But I want to say first, to you all, that I haven't the faintest idea what I've done, or why I am driven cut in this way. Aunt C. There's your wav, sir. {Points to door.) And ('on"t you never cross my threshold again. {Exit Ai\:os.) There, it"s time to git ready fer meetin'. I s'pose you're goin' long o' me, Solomon Slenker? Sol. S. Yes, yes. Content, Til go with ye. But fu.st I mu.^t see to gittin' my ole hoss some oats. I'll be b:ick in a minute. {Aside.) Land o' goshen ! Hope she ain't took this way often ! {Exeunt Sol. S. and Aunt Content.) 12 A RURAL RUSE. Pansy (^entering from pa7itry). Well, I never — in all my life! What in the world has come over Aunt Content? I wonder \i she is going crazy. This morning she was dying to have me marry Amos Burns; this evening she drives him out of the house. This is what she was hinting at all this afternoon, when she first got home. (^Ptils on apron, and gatJiers up dishes for washing.^ Poor Amos ! How sad and puzzled he looked ! It 'niost made me cry just to see him. My, wasn't aunt in a passion, though! But 1 don't believe Amos has done anything horrid — so tliere! I think he's a dear old fellow. That's what I think! I wonder how he is bearing up under it. How I would like to see him I {Goes to door.) Oh, there he is now. I can see him! How lovely I {Puts head hi at door from time to time, and speaks disjointedly.') He is just walking across their back porch ! Now he's Avashing his hands. No, he ain't ; he's picking a flower, to wear to meeting, I s'pose. {Comes in.) What a good figure Amos has ! I never thought of it before ; but he has — such nice, straight legs! Vm. so gild he isn't bow-legged like Ned Bovvers from Tipton. Gra- cious ! my dish-water is getting cold. {Something is thrown in at windoiv.) My soul! what's that? {Picks it np.) Why — it's a — note — tied to a stone — and a rose — from Amos ! Dear little rose! {Kisses it. Opens note.) Oh, isn't this thrilling? {Runs to inner door, and listens.) Aunt isn't coming! {Reads note.) My own darling Pansy, — I cannot endure it to live without seeing your sweet face. Can't you have a headache, just a little one, my pet, and stay at home from prayer-meeting? Then, when your aunt is gone, won't you come to the window, just a minute? It will be moonlight, you know. Forgive me for asking you to disobey, but I must see you. If you will come, put this rose in your dress, and stand at the door where 1 can see you. Your own Amos. {Hastily sticks rose in buttonhole.) Oh, where, which, what door, I wonder? {Runs to door., tJien windoiv, tJicn to door again. Sinks rapturously i/i chair.) There, now, I shall see him for all Aunt Content's mean injustice! Oh, this is just like a book! Dear Amos ! Tliere's aunt coming ! {Hides letter in pocket. Wipes dishes furiously.) AuxT C. Come, Pansy, git on your things. It's time fer meetin'. Pansy. O Aunt Content, I don't feel well — ah — that is, I have a little headache. I don't believe I'd better go to meeting to-night. Aunt C. What's the matter, child? You ain't ben eatin' them, green gooseberries agin, hev you? Do you feel very bad? (Pansy nods.) Then I guess I better stay to hum with you. Pansy {in a fever of anxiety). Oh, no, aunt, I wouldn't have you do that for anything ! Indeed, I'm not going to be sick. And you always count so on going to meeting. I shall be all right. I'll go to'bed soon, when I've straightened around down here, and I'll be sure to sleep it off. A RURAL RUSE. 1 3 Aunt C. {filling tea-kettle). No, Til stay to hum an' make some hot ginger-tea fer you. Pansy (rt:j-/V/.?). How vexatious ! {Goes to door.) You'd better get on your shawl, aunt. All the folks are going by to meeting. Mrs. Deacon Chiswick just went by with her little lantern. How ridiculous of her to carry that lantern to meeting, year in and year out ! Just look at that great round moon coming up ! It's like day out I Aunt C. {coming up behind her). Mis' Chiswick, did ye say? Wal, I guess, then, 1 will go to meetin'. ef you're shore you ain't goin' to be took bad while I'm gone. I want to see Mis' Chiswick about them eggs she was goin' to give me fer Tiny to set on. Better make that ginger-tea jest the same, Pansy, an' then go to bed. {Exit.) Vk^sy {watching her down the walk). There, she's gone! {Rjins to window; is folded in Amos's arms.) O Amos ! Amos. My darling! Mayn't I come in? This is so unsatis- factory ! Can't I come in? {Vanlts in through wijidoic, and sits on sill beside Pansy. Both langh.) She said not to cross her threshold, but this isn't a threshold. It's a window-sill, isn't it? ril be ready to jump, though if she comes. (////'/J Pansy.) Pansy, little woman, I love you. 1 think I have always- loved you, ever since you were a wee little girl and I used to carry you on my shoulder. Pansy, darling, can you learn to love me a little in re- turn ? Pansy {in a sinothered voice). I do love you ever so much now, Amos. Truly I do. AiMOS {/cissing her). Then, my little one, I don't care a fig for all the old aunts in Christendom, and we'll get married in spite of her. Can't it be soon? I liave waited a good while already. Let us say in a month. How does that strike you ? Pansy {breathlessly). O Amos, Aunt Content will never let me. She looks so cross and glum, she frightens me. Amos. Then, my darling, I will tell you what we will do. We will run away ! Pansy {delightedly). O Amos! Amos. I'll take you to Wayhampton at night, and — Pansy. Oh, won't it be exciting ! Amos. And we will be married there next day. Think seri- ously, Pansy dear, — do you care for me enough to leave your honie like that for me ? Pansy. Yes, Amos, I'm just as serious as can be, See? And I do love you, you dear old thing — and I will elope with you to Wayhampton ! Au;^T C. {coming in suddenly). Don't you think the old settin'- room to hum's good enough to' lie married in, Pansy, — an' there's your grandmother's white silk poplin, wHh white rosebuds on it, that she was married in, it's all ready an' waitin' fer you. Pansy and Amos (/// blank astonishtnent). Why, Aunt Con- tent, what do you mean ? 14 A RURAL RUSE. Sol. S. {enters and stands beside Aunt Content). It means, Amos, that we'll make it a double weddin', my boy, without no 'lopin\ ner sneakin' out o' town. Aunt C. It means that it's all a joke, children. Sol an' I was so happy over gittin' spliced ourselves, that I hedn't the heart to kerry on the hoax no longer. So I take it all back, Amos. You're the best young man in the world, an' I give you my one little flower, my Pansv, with a glad heart, knowin' you'll alius be tender of her. You wanted a romance. Pansy, an' I ain't bed no trouble in makin' one fer ye. I don't see but what it's worked ez well ez a* real one. Amos. Never mind, Pansy. You'll make it in a month just the same, won't vou ? PaxNSY. Yes, Amos. CURTAIN. A NEW COMEDY. That Box of Cigarettes A FARCE IN THREE ACTS. BY ^OSE^ARY BAUM. Four male and four female cliaracters. Scenes, two interiors, very simple. Costumes modern. This clever piece is in the light vein that has proven so pop- ular in Miss Grace Fiirniss' pieces, and while its sentiment is honest and true, it has few serious di-amatic moments. Its characters are lively young people and genial old ones, its story is entertaining and cleverly told its dialogue is vivacious and bright, and its incidents abundant, humorous, ingenious and original. Those who wish to be amused rather than excited will find an admirable means to this end in Miss Baum's play. Price 15 cents. SYNOPSIS: ACT. I. Hanging the " Mistletoe." Fred and the Anti-Tobacco League. Tom's love affair. A" flame" which must have "no smoke." Casting her shoe. A "slippery" trick. Fred and Phyllis. The dude and the budlet. Miss Bluchef's bonnet-strings. Signing the pledge. A hitch. ""Whose coat is this?" The Box OF Cigarettes. Ending in smoke. ACT II. Life in a flat. The Oldboys. A long-lost father. Unpleasant truths. Tom and Molly. " Aunt Ana shan't trample on me ! " Another " American Revolution." Anastasia and Americus. " I still smoke, ma'am." Almost an understanding. The Cigarettes again. Still smoky. ACT III. Paying Phyllis' bet. Curling irony. Under the mistletoe. A plot within a plot. Americus' little deal. The c!d boy gets gay. Freddy helps. TiddleyAvinks. Americus landed. An " insult " on the other cheek. Tom and Molly. The mistake explained. No more smoke. BAKER'S A. B. C. LEAFLETS. We have recently added to this series the following monologues; Price .... 5 cents each. The Face Upon the Floor, Js recited by Harry P. Keily. A Voyage Around ]My Pockets. TWO NEW PLAYS FOR CHILDREN. MISS MATILDA'S SCHOOL A Comic Operetta for Boys and Girls.. By GERTRUOL MANLY JONES. Suitable for pai'lor or school entertainments. The mnsic selected from famil- iar aiiU popular airs. One female ( adult) and any number of children. Scene, a school-room ; costumes, easy. This is a very amusing piece, a.id sure to please the children. Plays thirty-tive minutes. Price, 15 cents. HALF AN HOUR WITH A GIANT. A Holiday Operetta for Children. By GERTRUDE MANLY JONES. Adapted to familiar and popular airs. For almost any number of boys and girls. Scenery, unimportant; costmnes easy. Tins is not only a very amusing and entertaining piece, but it teaches, as well, a very impressive and useiul lesson. Plays half an hour. Price 15 cents. TWO NEW PLAYS FOR LADIES. MY AUNT'S HEIRESS. A Comedy in One Act. FOR FEMALE CHARACTERS ONLY. Eleven female characters, two of whom are children. Scene, a simple inte- rior ; costumes, modern. Tliis amusing piece is well adapted for school perform- ance, its humor being abundant and refined. Plays one hour. Price, 15 cents. A WONDERFUL CURE. A FARCE IN One Act. FOR FEMALE CHARACTERS ONLY. Four girls. Scene, an easy interior; costumes, modern. A very lively and amusing little piece for parlor or stage performance. Plays forty-five minutes. I*ricc, 15 cents* piays for /Amateur St^eatrieals. BV GEORGE 7^, BKKER, Author of "Amateur Dramas,'" "The Mimic Stage" "The Social Stage" "The Drawing' Room Stage" "Hafidy Dratnas," '"''The Exhibition Dramas" "A Baker'' s Dozen" etc. Titles in this Type are New Plays. Titles in this Type are Temperance Plai/s, DRAMAS. In Four A cts, . Better than Gold. 7 male, 4 female char ....25 In Three Acts, Otlr Follcs. 6 male, 5 female char. . 15 The Flower of tlie Family, 5 male, 3 female char 15 Eniisted for the War. 7 male, 3 fe- male char 15 My Brother's Keeper. 5 male, 3 fe- male char 15 The Little Urotvn tTug. 5 male, 3 female char . , . , 15 In Two A cts. Above the Clouds. 7 malie, 3 feHtale char One Hundred Years Ago. 7 male, 4 female char Among the Breakers. 6 male, 4 female , char Bread on the Waters. 5 male, 3 female char Down by the Sea. 6 male, 3 female char Once on a Time. 4 male, 2 female char. The Last Loaf. 5 male, 3 female char. In One Act. oTAND BY the Flag. 5 male char. . . Tlie Tempter. 3 male, i female char. COMEDIES AND FARCES. A Mysterious Disappearance. 4 male, 3 female char. . paddle Your Own Canoe. 7 male 3 female char. .,..,.... A- Drop too Much, 4 male, i female char r A Little More Cider, 5 male, 3 fe- male char A Thorn Among the Roses. 2 male, 6 female char Never ^ay Die. 3 male, 3 female char. ?VEEING tHE Elephant. 6 male, 3 female char. The Boston Dip. 4 male, 3 female char. The Duchess of Dublin. 6 male, 4 fe- male char. ...... o .. . Thirty Minutes for Refreshments. 4 male, 3 female char. ...... We've all Teetotalers. 4 male, 2 fe- male char. .....•.••• Male Characters Only. A Close Shave. 6 char • • A Public Rhnefactor. 6 char. A. Ska of Troubles. 8 char. . COMEDIES, etc., continued Male Characters Only. A Tender Attachment. 7 char. Coals of Fire. 6 char. .... Freepom of the Press. 8 chnr. . Shall Oar Mothers Vote? 11 char Gentlemen of the Jury. 12 char. . Humors of the Strike. 8 char. . . My Uncle the Captain. 6 char. . . New Brooms Sweep Clean. 6 char. The Great Elixir. 9 char 'J'hk Hypochondriac. 3 char. . . . The Man with the Demijohn. . char The Runaways. 4 char The Thief of Time. 6 char. ... Wanted, a Male Cook. 4 char. , . , Female Characters Only. A Love of a Bonnet. 5 char. ... A Precious Pickle. 6 char No Cure No Pay. 7 char The Champion of Her Sex. 8 char. The Greatest Plague in LiFft. 8 char The Gkbcian Bend. 7 char. , , o . The Red Chignon. 6 char Using the Weed. 7 char ALLEGORIES. A rrangedfor Music and Tableaux. Lighthart's Pilgrimage. 8 female char. The Revolt of the Bees. 9 female char. ...... c ... o . The Sculptor's Triumph, i male. 4 fe- male char. The Tournament of Idylcourt. 10 fe- male char The War of the Roses. 8 female char. The Voyage of Life. 8 female char. . MUSICAL AND DRAMATIC. An Original Idea, i male, i female ..5 Bonbons; or, the Paint King. 6 male, I female char . 25 Capuletta; or, Romeo and Juliet 15 Restored. 3 male, i female char. . 15 Santa Claus' Frolics 15 Snow-bound; or, Alokzo the Brave. AND the Fair Imogene. 3 male, i 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 Entertain- ment. Numerous male and female char. 15 Too Late for the Train. 2 male char. 15 The Visions of Freedom, ii female char. . . < 15 WALTER H. BAKER & CO., 23 Winter St„ Boston. LIBRftRY OF CONGRESS NEW OPERETTAS FOR ( Odd Operas for 015 793 210 fl LVOHllUL. A Collection of Short and Simple Musical Entertainments for Children. By Mrs. C. N. BORDMAN, Author of "The Kingdom of Mother Goose," "Motion Songs for the School- liooM," " The Temperance Clarion," etc. Complete with all the music and full instructions for performance. This collection is strongly recommended for its simplicity, originality of idea, tunefulness and perfect prac- ticability. Price 50 cents. A GLIMPSE OF THE BROWNIES. A Musical Sketch for Chil- dren. For any number of boys. JIMMY 'crow, a Recitation for a Little Girl. MARKET DAY. An Operetta for Young People. Seven speaking parts and chorus. QUEEN FLORA'S DAY DREAM. An Operetta for Children. Six speaking parts and chorus. THE BOATING PARTY. A Musical Sketch for Little Children. Thirty boys and girls. SIX LITTLE GRANDMAS. A Musical Pantomime for very Little Children. Six very little girls. A HOUSE IN THE MOON. A Recitation for a Little Girl. ROBIN'S SPECIFIC; OR, THE CHANGES OF A NIGHT. A. Cmristmas Opkretta in One Act. Words by I Music by AMELIA SANFORD. I ADAM CIEBEL. For one adult and nine children from eight to sixteen years old, with eight very little boys and twelve little girls for Chorus. Three changes of scene, very easily arranged, costumeB varied but simple and readily procured. Very effective and easily gotten up. Price 35 cents. Catalogues describing the above and other popular entertainments sent free on application to WALTER H. BAKER & CO., THEATRICAL PUBLISHERS, No. 23 Winter Street, - - BOSTON, MASS.