^LV\ (^ r THiRi! HOURS For Three Thousano Years, — OE — HERESY & PLANETS. COMEDY-DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS, -BY — G. A. KASTELIC. THiRi! HOURS For Three THOOsimo Years, — OR- HERESY & PLANETS. COMEDY-DRAMA IN FIVE ACTS, — BY- G. A. KASTELIC, ^ f T'^ ':U .n Entered according to Act of Congress in tlie years 1891 and 1892. by George Anton Kastelic. All riulits reserved. TMP96-006372 CAST m CHA»ACTE£S: ALBERT, CHARLEY, MABLE, MARY, - JOHN SMITH, - JESUSITA, FELICES ALVARADO, PALAS, XILIOPALKA, - JEXIDROL, REGINA, ) FELICIA, V LUCIA, ) NELLIE, EDWARD, ) EMILY, [ LUDOVINA, ) A PHYSICIAN - The Happy Soul. His Cousin. His intended Bride. His Wife Albert's Father Albert's Mother Mabel's Mother Queen of Venus Boss of Mercury Giant-Master of Saturn Court Ladies The Orphan « Children Farmers, Fairies, Dwarfs, Giants etc., etc. Time, f89f to I90I. Place, Colorado Desert, {Southern California') ACT I. SCENE I. Ordinary sitting room, a bed in it. Mabel in a rocker takes a news- paper from tlie table. Mabel. — At last I can liaye a few moments for thinking and reading, I cannot imagine how other girls lounge idly about completelj neglecting their house duties. Why, an orderly girl must always be on the alert. I'd never allow my poor mother to burden herself with the work that I am able to do. Oh! how sincerely I pity Maggie's mother, who allows her daughter to act as she pleases, attending, in her old age even to their support. But the poor old lady will not be spared much longer; ah, then Maggie will find something better to do than read novels or ride down town to meet her admirers. Even if Henry should marry her, it will little improve her condition as he needs his salary for himself. Alas! she is too young to reason for herself, and will not listen to my well-meant advise. Salaries are indeed very low, and married women must in some way contribute towards the support of the house while unmarried ones have to battle for themselves. Foolish are but the girls who encourage or marry men who j)ass most of their leisure time in saloons, and they have but themselves to blame when they find out too late their life's greatest mistake. For my part, I shall be most careful in this respect, and Al- bert will find it very hard to convince me that he is becoming a better man,besides, he is unable to keep a steady position. I feel sorry for him; but at the same time I would not sacrifice my- self without doing a particle of good to either of us. (Draws a sigh) On the other hand, his cousin is a steady worker and very economical, but he has an awful temper. No woman could stand it for any length of time; and I fear serious trouble will some day be the result of his extreme excitability. Oh! how I do hate fighters, drunkards, gamblers, and the like. Yet, how few are entirely free from such grave faults. The world seems now-a-days all wrong; I wonder if it will continue growing steadily worse, or my after all some great crisis come wringing changes,for the better and cause people to change their morals and customs. Oh! that I knew of some way in which I could myself effect such a transformation, I think I would .- 4 — gladly devote my life to such a cause. (Longingly ) I miglit pos- sibly give up my life, only to change Albert for the better. Mary enters. Mary. — Miss Mabel, will you please come and see after the pies? Exit Mary. Mabel. — All right, Mary, I will be in the kitchen directly (soliloquizing) So it goes all day long. One can not get a half hour's rest. Exit Mabel. Enter Albert, after having repeatedly knocked at the door. Albert. — No one in. Miss Mabel is probably in the kit- chen. I wonder what she will remark upon seeing me togged out in such fine style? I guess she will hardly recognize me {smiling into the mirror) Indeed, I look like a foreign minister, suppose that will fetch her. Of course, I must also give proper explanations. Ah! Here she comes. Enter Mary. Mary. — Oh! are you here Albert? Miss Mabel is very busy just now. You may take a chair and wait for her. Albert, trjing to kiss her. Albert. — Pretty little Mary, I hope you will be a charm- ing companion while Mabel keeps me waiting. You know I love you almost as much as I do Miss MabeL Mary. — (coldhj) Perhaps you do, but I do not and never will appreciate your favor. I hardly think Miss Mabel does, either. Albert. — (perplexed) How is that? Am I not a nice fellow? Just look at me, Mary. Mary taking a contemptuous look at him. Mary. — That hat of yours does not make you a particle better in my estimation. Neither do I think will Mabel be greatly charmed by it. Albert. — (sharply) You don't say? Pray, what is it then, that would raise me in yours and your mistress's estimation? Mary. — (naturally) Undoubtedly, if 3'ou would call in plain working clothes and prove that you had changed your disord- erly mode of living. (Moves toioards the door). There comes Miss Mabel, so you can settle the question best with herself. Good day, Albert. Enter Mabel. Mabel. — Good morning, Albert. Albert. — Good morning, Mabel, my darling, how are you? (aside) She does not seem to notice mj^ silk hat at all. — 5 — Mabel. — (coolly) Thank you I am well. And you? Albert. — ( enthusiastically ) Oli! I am always more than well, when I am permitted to have a talk with you undisturbed, especially to-day. Mabel. — Why so? Have you any particular news to-day? Albert. — (amused) Particular news — she does not seem to "understand." (strokes his mustache). (^vi7of<(iJ Well, just take a good look at me. Don't you notice anything particular about me? Mabel. — You mean that stove-pipe hat you are wearing. That is very little to me, indeed. Albert. — (with gi-eat stress) Very little! Very little! Mabel. — (Interrupting) Of course, little or nothing. Besi- des, it is likely some one else's hat, as it seems rather too large for you. Just let me see what's in the hat. Albert. — (much frightened — In a whisper) Oh my! She's got me again, I sent to Aunt Smith for cousin's hat. You know,Mabel, I always buy large hats so as to... to... to... 'M-A'SE'L.— ( Severely ) to... to.... probably to drive it deeper into your red face when you come tumbling out of some ob- noxious saloon, where you are spending half of your worthless life (sadly) Oh! Albert, it is awful! Albert. — (Pleadingly ) Pray, Miss... don't . . . Mabel. — ( Deploringly ) Yes, awful indeed. I know you to be incorrigible. Look, why are you not like your cousin Char- ley? He is steadily working and saving his dollars, while you .... Oh, how sincerely I j3ity your poor mother! Your father died worrying about you, and before long you will have driven her too into the cold grave. (At the last toords tears spring to her eyes). Albert. — (Moved) Don't be so hard on me Mabel .... You see I came to tell you that .... that .... that I intend to begin a new life from now on. Mabel. — It is not the first time you come to tell me that, Albert. Albert. — But it is a fact this time. You see I have secured a nice employment in a commission house, and surely all will turn out for the best. Believe me, dear Mabel. Mabel. — It is well enough for you to say this, but I can not believe it, until I see that you are beginning to turn over a new leaf, attending properly to business, and placing your earnings in your mother's care, just as Charley does. Albert. — It is always Charley with you. I know you are in love with him, and therefore I am notliing to you. Mabel. — WeM as to that, I must rejjeat that Charley is — 6 — really a very good man, I wish I could say the same of you, but you may rely upon that I am not in love with liim,nor with any one else. Albert. — (Joyfully) Is that a fact? Oh! may I hope then to ... . Mabel. — (SevereUyJ Please don't continue — it is use- less — it is impossible (iviping away some tears) Albert. — (Excitedly) Now, there you are again, almost shedding tears. I am sure it is Charley that your heart is cry- ing for. Mabel. — Don't talk like that any more. You are mistaken, Albert. Knocks at the door. Mabel. — Walk right in. Enter Charley. Charley. — How do you do, dear Mabel? Albert. — (aside) This is fatal! — If he sees his new hat here. Oh! what a foolish prank it was for me to send to Aunt for it. Well, I will have to fight it out if it comes to the point. Charley. — Hello! Albert, are you here too? Albert. — (Aside) Damn him! (Aloud) Yes, as you see. Charley. — (Addressing Mabel) I had to visit several ofiices, concluded business rather early, and thought I would avail myself of the opportunity to call on you and ask whether you would like to accompany my sisters to the opera this evening? Albert. — (distressfully) Aha! his sisters. Mabel. — I hardly think that I shall be able to go. (Alb. joyfully clapping upon his knees). You see, I am not feeling quite well, (Alb. jumping, magnificent) and would, therefore, prefer to retire early. (Alb., she is an accomplished angel). Besides, you know that I never cared much about operas, because I am of the opinion that a good drama is generally more conducive to public refinement, while operas and a number of other fashionable practices and amusements are a sad overdoing. Albert. — {luith enifphasis) Correct, at any rate she seems to know just how to handle fashionable fools like him. Charley. — Just as you like, Mabel. I am sorry, though I can not help acknowledging your intelligent judgment and pre- ference for the drama. Albert. — (Aside) You had better get out of here to avoid a drama. Charley. — (Taking up a netvspcijxi') Have you read that article about the wonderful new desej-t lake at Salton? — 7 — Albert. — (Aside) I suppose lie must feel by this time somehow too salted — perhaps deserted. Mabel. — Earthquakes have sometimes very strange effects indeed, most likely it will fill up the low plain, though that may take years. Charley. — If they don't oppose Nature's wise workings the Colorado Desert will, with its surrounding hills, gradually change climate and general aspect, yielding fertile soil for new cultivation to thousands of acres. Albert. — {lively) I, myself, would then like to go there and catch rattlesnakes to keep from starving. Mabel. — (dreamingly) California is the most wonderful land on earth. — I declare it is destined to become soon the mo- dern paradise. Charley. — You are right, Mabel, we have besides strong evidence that many centuries past fertile plains populated by civilized nations existed all over the West, where now but a succession of deserts is met with, Albert. — (with outstretched arms, sarcastically) May this unmistakable hint of Nature provoke human intelligence (aside, especially Charley s) to bring such conditions speedily back again! Mabel. — I wish it would although I will not live to see anything like that accomplished. You both may enjoy it yet. Charley. — ( Taking hold of the plug-hat upon the table aston- ishingly examines it.) AJi! what is this? Albert. — (Aside) Now the crash is unavoidable. I am sure he carries his pistol. At any rate I must look out for that. Charley. — (Uncertain) It seems... to be... my hat. (Turns it all over, then tearing out the papers and throiving them into Al- bert's face.) Oh! you scoundrel: you miserable thief; you confo- unded wretch.... Albert. — {interrupting icratlifully) What's that, you said? I, a scoundrel! a thief! I'll fix you for that. (Throivs aivay his coat and 7'oUing up his sleeves, advances ivith clinched fists.) Charley. — (retrcatingly shouts) Stand back there, or I'll smash in your red nose! (Blows folloiv.) Mabel. — (Crying) For God's sake stop, Albert! Don't stri- ke any more! Oh! that I am compelled to witness such ugly fighting! The fighters fall with a heavy ihud in a heap. A noment later a pistol is discharged. Mabel. — (Throtvs one hand up, placing the other over her heart.) Oh, Lord! This is too much. (Sinks in a faint on the fioor. The fighters jump to their fe^et). Mabel's mother and Mary rash in. Mother. — {Despondently) Oh, Mabel! My dear cliild, What has happened to you? What is it? Tell me, are you hurt? Who killed you? Tell your Mother! Charley. — She only fainted upon hearing the accidental shot. I hope it is nothing serious. {All hands carry her ^ipon the bed. Albert. — {Excitedly) Mary, bring some water and brandy. Hurry up! Charley, go and call a physician. Run sharp! (both go confusedly as told.) Mary. — {returning with glass of loater and bottle) Here Al- bert. — Poor Mabel, she is so kind-natured. Only to see a scuffle is sufficient to kill her. She sprinkles water on Mabel. Albert rubing her temples with brandy. Mother assists. Mother. — Dear Mabel, speak but once. Look at your mo- ther! What shall I do for you? Enter physician and examines MabeL PhysicM-N. — {jjensively) Poor girl! I fear there remains very little to be done for her. Mother. — Oh, Doctor! Please do all you can, just make her speak to me once more. Is there not a hope for that? Physician. — I may possibly be able to make her rally sufficiently for that. I will try my best. Madam. He administers to the prostrate form for several minutes. Madam, she is opening her eyes. Please talk quietly to her for a few moments. Mother. — My sweet daughter, speak to your mother. Tell me, Mabel, how do you feel? Mab^i,. —{smilingly) Happy, very happy, dear mother, indeed {she stretches her arm) Don't worry. Oh! how lovely the angels are singing for me, and how beautiful they are. Mother, do you see them? There. {Indicating direction.) Mother. — I cannot see them, my dear child; no they dare not take you from me yet. I have not petted or cherished you much in all your life, because I meant to spare it until after your training was completed. Now you must remain to be the joy and only consolation of your feeble mother. Mabel. — Mother, I am thankful you gave me a sensible education and true womanly training. How would I now feel, if I was a spoilt lost child, and having a lost mother.Oh, what horror! only to think of other purblind parents and their un- fortunate cliildreu. I must go aud try to help them all, dear mother. {Feeling about ivith both hands.) Where are you Albert? Albert. — Here I am my darling; don't you see me? Mabel. — No, I can't see; it is getting very dark. But, tell me, will you begin a better life from now on? I always knew that I should have to die before you ever reformed. Albert. — I swear that I will do all in my power. But don't leave us yet; you won't die Mabel. Look at your poor mother; she could never do without you. {Mother heavily sighing.) Mabel. — {Pleadingly) Please do not make it harder for me, Albert. Mother, do not cry. I shall soon meet you up there, where we will be able to do more good than we can here. {StretcMng out both hands). Good bye, all! They are calling me. Oh, the beautiful carriage of brilliants! How swiftly they are coming now. {Head and hands dropjy'ing.) Albert. — One more angel in heaven! This wicked world is no place for souls like hers. {Curtain) SCENE II. cemetery. Albert badly dressed grooping over the graves; strikes a match to read inscriptions. His mother and cousin visible in a remote corner. Charley. — I am sure, Aunt, he contemplates no good at this late hour. I fear gloomy thoughts have brought him out here; therefore it is best to watch him, and I expect you to help me bring your lost son safely home again. Albert. — Here is the place where my dear angel is rest- ing, sweetly dreaming in eternal sleep. Oh, how happy would I be were I a better man! she might then have lived to gladden all her dear ones. I am the one who killed her, and worse of all, I swore to her, that I would reform; but have never tried to do so. On the contrary, I have only kept sinking deeper, with bad companions, until I became actually a thief, a scoun- drel and wretched outcast, thrown from employment, avoided by friends who formerly debauched at my account, and given up even by my mother, who, like the majority of senseless mothers do, petted long ago all the good out of my soul, just to gratify her own shallow selfish heart. I cannot stand it any longer; the best thing for me is to die at once, and have a rest along side of my darling angel here. — 10 — Mother. — Oh Charley he is really going to kill himself! Please take the pistol from him before he shoots! For God's sake go and take it from him. Charley. — Do not be afraid, dear Aunt; I shall see that he will not. As soon as he draws the pistol from his pocket, I will wrench it from his grasp. You may be sure that I did not bring you out here to see your Albert commit the last and gravest act of his wretched existence; on the contrary, to lead him safely back again, and I hope he can be prevailed upon to act reasonable as soon as he becomes aware that you have freely forgiven him. Albert. — Bad company is the ruin of many; no doubt such is the case with me, but after all I have the one consolation that I could never think of any practical way towards reform, without being compelled to put up with despicable hypocrisy (in a tone of loild bitterness shaking ^fists) prayers, bible trash, and other prodigals. Oh! it is bound to drive young and old to excesses and hallucinations, or into the streets and saloons, being irresistably carried off by the natural tide of modern civilization. If I only knew of a country or state that would offer something better to young folks, I would certainly go there, no matter how far I hacl to travel; but as yet there is no state, church or community on earth, that may justly claim to pro- pagate a Christianity worthy of its name, since all are bound on mechanical imitation, stoutfully keeping uj) an external deceit- ful appearance, permanently excluding common sense and ratio- nal systems of public education, which only could bring about true feeling amongst all classes. ( JFiW??/ si taking fists). Iron faced Pharisees with supernatural blood-curdling gravity frighten and drive us for royal legacies, mercilessly into certain des- pondency. There is no chance left for unfortunates who are sensible enough to comprehend that none of those flimsy, trumped-up doctrines and j^etty charities can ever help more than one in a thousand. I have understood all that long ago; and for that matter even my parents could not have made a good man out of me, though my father has promptly pounded me whenever he felt himself in a fit of wild rage, while mother with her fond caresses and religious training did her part to turn me into a complete savage. Oh! I am sure, dear Mabel, was the only one who could possibly have brought me to reform. She knew well that religion to self-respect as fashion to education and barbarism to civilization, keep always an even ratio. Now, it is all too late, sooner or later imprisonment would be my fate. (Draivs out his pistol) That chance is left but for a — 11 — coward. I prefer this remedy. {Examining the revolver.) I hope Mabel will be in waiting for me. Mother. — (Breathlessly)!^ ow Charley, don't hesitate, or you may be too late. Charley approaching rapidly raises his arm to give the blow, when Mabel all in white appears, a blue flame illuminating her pale face, and threateningly raising her hands. Mabel. — Albert, what did you promise me, and swear to, in the hour of my departure. Albert and Charley drop their arms paralyzed with fear. The pistol falls from Albert's hand upon the grave, while mother is wringing her hands heavenward. Mabel. — {Continues) I came now to warn you for the last time, to start a new and righteous life. Do you expect that by freeing yourself from human duties we would be united. Why, such horrible action as murder or suicide is bound to drive you still further from me. So far, your existence has been abso- lutely worthless; there being nothing in it to merit even for an instant a communication with any of the glorious souls in after life; consequently you could expect but darkness and desolation. {Solemn silence) Oh, Albert! believe me, I have been happy, very happy; but this sad interview will deprive me of felicity for a long time, since in after life, one hour is equal to a thousand years. I made this last sacrifice in order to save you and that you would save others. Albert. — Sublime angel! being myself an outcast, how could I save others? Death only can deliver me. Mabel. — Know then, Albert, God's infallible scripture and only law is Motion, Progress, Evolution, Perfection; the latter state as the final aim of all has been entirely lost sight of, since soul saving developed into profitable comedy and ecclesiastical farce plays. Eartly life is a short dream, a mere apprenticeship for the after existence of soul, thus, death can only deliver the good, but never ends suffering for those who have done little or nothing to perfect and ennoble their own souls; on the contrary, it increases a thousand-fold, since there is no visible end to it. Only those who bear patiently all inconvenience, working diligently for their brethren's welfare, helping to establish the anticipated grand civilization of the future, may ever expect that the eternal light will shine also for them.Tlius progressive work is the true Saviour, while Christ was one of the greatest teachers, vainly endeavoring to make us all understand that we should willingly sacrafice our own flesh and blood, if neces- sary to aid helpless sufferers. Alas! his noble examples have always been miscons- trued to become more serviceable for selfish purposes of state- — 12 — ly priests.... Brace up, Albert, and make yourself useful. I expect great things of you, and shall not fail to call you as soon as you will have complied satisfactorily with your human duties. Albert. — How gladly will I do as you advise me, my angel, but I do not know how and where to begin. I am deprived of all means, expelled and despised by human society, there is no hope for me. Mabel. — I am aware that you suffered a great deal, bui it is only very little as compared with the awful misery of lost souls. There is hope as long as there is life. Illusory expectations, depravity and licentiousness have certainly landed you at the verge of despondency, as it always does, but the glorious day is now close a I hand when you and all the world will be con- vinced that by harmoniously working together in strict con- formity with the plainest laws ofNature, earthly as well as ever- lasting happiness can best be attained for all and when such will once more be accomplished upon earth, true Christianity will exist and a sublime civilization will be established, but never before that. (Pcmse.) Now as to yourself, I must advise you, Albert, to start with the most natural, and most useful of human occupations, which is agriculture; but never think of beginning it single-handed, as it is frequently attempted with uncertain results. Union and co-operation is necessary for everything; much more so in coaxing off mother earth precious heavenly gifts. If you will explain this to your shiftless comrades, the best of them may readily join you, and all will find, that field work in the lovely open country is not as hard as unsuccessful city life, besides being much healthier for body and soul. Another very important advice; which I have to offer is, that as soon as the first necessities have been arranged you should take a wife; but select one who would carefully attend to her domestic duties. Your companions will undoubtedly follow your sensible example; and there shall reign the great- est satisfaction amongst all. This being the only desire of our kind Creator. Heaven will be with you, if you follow strictly all I advised you. I must go, Albert, they are calling me. Mabel disappeares while Albert heaTily sighing turns around, and startling at the sight of Charley, exclaims: Albert. — Oh! how true is Mabel's announcement. Tell me, Charley has not sent you our dear angel? Charley. — Indeed, such is the case, and you see your care- worn mother besides. The old lady is coming up to clasp her son in her arms. Mother. — Oh! my bad boy, at last you are saved? {Curtain) ACT II. Ordinary farmer's room, with a low cot in it; one door at each side; window at the rif^ht; Mary sitting at the window stringing beans; Nellie on a low stool assisting her. Nellie. — {Orphan) It will be three months to-morrow since I came here with you. Oh, how quickly the time has passed! • Mary. — I suppose Nellie, you like country life; do you not? Nellie. — If I do? Really, I never dreamed to ever feel as happy as I am since I sighted beautiful Merced Farm, at Salton Lake. Mary. — I am glad you do, my poor child; you have suflfered long enough through charitable monsters who cruelly swallow so many defenseless victims, after having pierced their gentle hearts with steei pointed lances of false morals, while they art- fully cover their own mean souls with the invulnerable shield of religious piety. You know, dear Nellie, what a fight I had to recover you from their brawny clutches. Nellie. — {lueepingly) Oh, what an awful time I passed at the asylum! The continuous scowls and kicks at my faintest move; disgusting prayers almost every hour! I would rather die than jiass another year at that horrid asylum! At last, a kind lady took me away, and I thought better times had come; Instead, I was made to drudge in her luxurious mansion from dawn till midnight. (i>i7ter/y) That's what they call a home. And when I ran away, resolved to end my life rather than stand such slavery, I was taken to prison, and there you found and kindly rescued me (smiles). Oh, how thankful I am at your unexpected deliverance! I really felt at first siglit,an irresistible attraction towards you Mary, and therefore implored the judge on my knees, to permit me going with you. Mary. — Luckily, I was able to prove a distant relationship with you; or all your touching appeals would have proved unavailing, and those bright shining stars of petty charity would have had you condemned to three years' imprisonment, forcing you into companionship of vile females until you beca- me of age. Why, as far as true womanly feeling and human sense is concerned you are of age already, while none of those haughty ladies who were in court ti'ying to ruin your character and — 14 — future, will ever be as competent as you are to have a child placed under their charge. Nellie. — {relieved) It is just lovely among your straight minded friends here, all being so kind and totally different from those I had formerly met! The young folks merrily play- ing, singing, and courting, bat still working industriously like ants; they love all that's cultivating and beautiful, while their highest virtue, is profoandest devotion to one another. Mary. — For a fact, they do love each other most sincerely and after all , what but such devotion makes life agreable and is bound to promote all that is noble and grand? It proves to be the case at Merced Farm, where within a few years have sprung up- comfortable cottages and spacious out-buildings sur- rounded by gardens, orchards and vine-yards; in short every- thing that indicates prosperity and happiness, while but a few years ago we started with almost nothing. Nellie. — It is indeed a model farm, stopping here even for a few days imparts feelings of a delightful new life; just to see the great contentment which every one seems possessed of in his daily routine makes one's heart leap with joy and enthusiasm. I wonder if Merced Farm is the only place on earth where the greatest crime ever committed consisted apparently in voluntary overwork? Mary. — You see, dear child, other people are not content to work happily in union and harmony; they prefer to waste their precious time and energy in creating harassing laws, and unnatural creeds, which force all classes into desperate strug- gles for brutish supremacy. Until lately men were exclusively engaged in such systematical co-annihilation. Women and children being now sternly compelled to join those inhuman strifes for dear life, — a horrid state of modern- ized barbarism is becoming more apparent with ^/.aH.^ herJing<^rindension) I doubt it;I^^oubtit. MAm.-iGood natnredhj). Why should J^^'lJJ^^^; Albeft could acquire in your company only g^^;;^/ \f J^^^^^^^^^^^ sScessfX^^^ . . 11 n;tt IF Indeed your statute rules are very wise to allow rL7. to brelk men's degrading and dangerous pas- angehc .^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ratlndness whereas "enturies of experience — 18 — cannot be modelled by any amount of fore ble restrictions, and moral progress must be sought whithout insanely denouncing the most inexorable laws of nature. Mary. — We found the golden road that leads into every one's heart, while it is as clear as sunlight that our great Master meant with His supreme doctrine of love, no mystery, convent- ional absurdity, or fraudulent complication. We are practicing the same at Merced Farm to the best of our ability,never dream- ing to have stubborn, smooth-tongued ministers stunt our na- tural righteousness and common sense. Nellie. — I really cannot understand, how in this enlightened age, religious creeds and love are merely valued as marketable conveniences, regardless of genuineness and unmindfull of its deplorable consequences. Mary. — Still, those noisy moral fiends wonder why millions drink their troubled minds into forgetfulness, insanity, crime, and perdition, while charitable Christians notice only, that pri- sons and asylums are steadily getting to narrow, and they keep on crying for more, when with some true sense of brotherly love useful citizens could be made of all, with but a small addi- tional expense. Nellie. — (Fixing her eyes in great surprise upon opposite door, and pointing to it.) How is it Mary, that I saw Albert there in the doorway? Could he have entered without being seen, or did he crawl through the other porch window to overhear our conversation? Mary, — (With a frightenedlool',hnt calmly). Tou must be mis- taken Nellie,Albert and Charley went into the hills at four o'clock this morning to investigate some mines which they imagine to have discovered. They will hardly return Ijefore dark, as they took lunch with them, besid es, eavesdropping is never done on our farm; there would be no motive for it, as we are always truthful and open-hearted towards each other; if townfolks could ever get used to that, detectives, police, auctioneers, saloon autocrats and numberless hitherto unproductive pro- fessionals would somewhat change their position, towards downtrodden humanity, and become actual benefactors of the surging masses. Even physicians would find a more useful field for their science and knowledge. Nellie. — Do you mean then, Mary, that people would not get sick? Mary. — Indeed they wouldn't ; physicians ought not to be in waiting for a call to the side of some unfortunate. It is just as contrary as are those numberless idly watching ministers, while millions go to their certain ruin, and thus it will continue as long as soul and life saving is being carried on hand in hand with arrocrance and ignorance. — 19 — Nellie. — But what else could they do, Mary? Mary. — Knowledge and prevention is better than cure, and of course, profitable to all parties. On Merced Farm, we have neither physician nor preacher, but if it should be- come necessary to employ them , strictest attention to their duty, would be our principal claim. We would oblige the former to give us, and especially, to our chil- dren regular hygienic instructions, directing the preparation of meals, amount of work and exhileration, social plays, general movements and gymnastic exercises, — in short everything that goes to preserve health and comfort of body, while the spiritual adviser would give us interesting and scientific lectures, such as intelligent persons daily require; above all, he should sternly censure public outragers, and see that our little ones are con- stantly warned against bad habits, religious superstitio^i, and downright hypocrisy; the very root of all human monstruosity. Nellie. — "Why, this is exactly the opposite of what we were taught at the orphan asylum!" Mary. — Most assuredly , not only contrary to asylum teaching, but difterent from the unsystematized mock-education as is customary throughout the civilized world. (Stress). Now, we don't propose to raise modernized savages as others do, for the mere imitation sake, and you have seen how bright and well behaved our children are under the sensible treatment of strict parents as well as under the careful training of mother Florence. Thus, our children will undoubtedly improve future generations as far as ethics and sound principles are concerned. Nellie. — (Sighing) Ah, how I do admire Florence! It makes me sad to think of not having had the fortune to receive in time such necessary teachings and sublime iraming. (Hopefully) How happy would I be to assist her, while with my former mistress I was obliged to trod, behind her haughty girls with an armful of books such as astronomy, mathematics, electricity and the like of heavy trash; the more they knew the more brutal they became and the less human sense they retained! Mary. — Those giddy town— folks never think of giving their children a fair chance; instead of that, they fill their tender brains with cold science, pagan religion, or fashionable tricks of some sort, however it rarely occurs to them that first of all, good behavior to parents and fellow beings is most essential, while love for nature's beauties is next to be cultivated in every young heart. Nellie. — (Jumps up with a cry of terror; pointiiig at opposite door). For heavens sake, Mary, look there! Do you see him? Mary. — (Drops the basket ivith beans in turning sharply around; dumbfounded) OhJGod! Albert, what has happened? Why did you return so unexpectedly? (Jumping up ivith outstretched arms and — 20 — a cry of Itorror) Wliat is it? Tell me; what on earth makes you look so pale? {Jlary corcriiKj /icrface tuith apron ainks back into chair quietly sobbing) Oh, mv! oh, my! Nellie. — {IVith frinyJitened gesture) Awfully strange — his disappearing without answering a word! Mary. — Dear Nellie, you don't know, hut I am sure some- thing terrible must have happened to Albert! — His mysterious apparition is a warning omen. Nellie. — Why do you think so, Mary ? Mary. — (Cnlmly) He remarked on awakening, this morning, that it was just ten years, since his memorable interview with Mabel took place. Nellie. — Don't torment yourself Mary, with unfounded anxiety ; it is getting dark and they must be home in a few mi- nutes anyway. Mary. — {Bcstlessly ivalking the Jloor) I wish the children would come that we might ^en^... {stepping to the tvindoiv relieved) Ah, there is Charlie! He is running, and yonder by those fig-trees a group of men approaching (excitedly) Nellie, Nellie! They are carrying something... It is my Albert! — It must be him! [She sinks despondently in a chair) Oil, why did I let him go? It is my fault my stupid indifference, I could have averted the accident. ( Weeping softly). Nellie. — (Consolmgly) Don't be so hard on yourself — there is no accident yet that we know of. Mary. — I am too sure there is; (Getting up with firmness and resolution) I must not however give way to grief; it is against our rules and human reason; we are all supposed to bear bravely whatever falls to our lot. Charley. Stumbling in, breathlessly sinks into a chair. Red flannel shirt, white overalls, blue scarf, farmer's straw hat with green ribbon. Mary. — (Beseechingly stepping to his side) Tell me, what has happened to him, Charley? Charley. — (Astonished) How on earth do you know anything happened? Was Mabel also here looking for him? Mauy.— (Sharply) What did you say? Mabel... Ma...bel (incoherently stamviering) loo. ..king for him..? Oh, God, then he is gone forever!.. She has taken my Albert! Charley. — No, she has not. (Mary looking up surprised). She only called him, as I understand. Mary. — Called him? (i-eltemently) He is then alive? Why are you frightening me so cruelly, Charley? (Placing her hands upon her heart). — 21 - Charley. — (Earnestly) Sit down Mary, and compose your- self... We must take things as they come,— Albert lives; he will Srobably be all right again by to-morrow morning. — In fact, e is now only suffering from the effects of the great quantity of whiskey which we made him swallow a little while ago. Mary. — {Indignantly) For God's sake! Have you turned mad Charley? How dare you do such a thing? Do you mean to make him a tough again, such as he used to be years ago when I despised him? Nellie. — {Modestly) No, Mary, I think, Charley meant good by him — Was not Albert bitten by a reptile, Charley? Charley. — You have it Nellie, a large rattler bit him. Mary. — {Raising her arms) Gracious! How did that happen? Pray, tell me all about it, and make it short, Charley! Charley. — {Gets uj), Nellie sitting). It came like this: — "In crossing the second canyon we heard a most pitiful cry, re- sembling a girl's moaning in great distress." It startled us, causing me to fall into the creek, while Albert with three jumps reached the old Spruce stump at the other side, where _ he stopped with transfixed eyes to embrace some imaginary object on top of the old stump. But oh, horrors! I also perceived at the same instant a huge snake angrily shaking its tail while Albert, unmindful of liis dangerous jDosition slowly exclaimed: "Oh, Mabeh! I did hear your call last night, and am ready to follow you. "At that moment I shouted a sharp cry of warning, — it was too late. — Albert fell exhausted to the ground, after the ugly snake struck him, and just when I reached the spot with a big boulder to dispatch the reptile, it had dis- appeared. Then, without losing time, I ran to the old Mexican's cabin, to ask for help; and when we got back again, we poured about two pints of whiskey down Albert's throat. Of course that made him unconscious, but he will soon recover. At last, they are bringing him hither! Men enter -witli the prostrate form. All in farmers costume, like Charley's. Mary assists in laying the body on the cot; then placing her hand upon his forehead. Mary. — {Shaking her head). Oh, my poor Albert! — He is quite cold, — he will not live Charley, just examine his pulse; there is no noticeable beating. [Children's singing is heard outside.) The ]30or children are now merrily coming home to find their share of life's sorrow just beginning. {Charlie examines Alherfs heart.) Emily nine, and Edward seven years old; both enter eager and happy hesitatingly kissing their mother and Nellie. Emily. — Dear mamma; are you crying? Why is papa so pale? ( Glancing in a terrijied way all around.) — 22 — Charley. — The heart's action has stopped. — His duty was over, and Mabel called him. Maey. — {Solemnly taking the children to the bedside.) May such be her will; — she saved him, and she called him. Children, kiss your father good bye; he is gone forever! TABLEAU. More farmers are filing in, leading their wives and children. Emily and Edward kneel down to kiss the prostrate form. Women's regulation farm costume: — -gray brightened with cardinal colored ribbons; girls, light blue and pink. Children's pink and white, all with flowers in their hair; boys' white and blue, leading each a girl, form the first circle around the afllicted group at the bedside. The back wall being shifted discloses the elegant farm on the shores of Salton Lake. A group of Indians and Mexicans solemnly approaching. Two miniature trains are seen crossing, accompanied with its accustomed rumbling. Barking of dogs, neighing and bellowing of distant cattle. Grand illumination, while on the hilltops, Mabel is seen mounted on a ponderous dragoon, sword in her right, assists with her left Albert to mount. His hair and flannel shirt now ghstens with tinsel. They are both rising upon a cloud and powerful trumpeting is heard. Mabel's costume: hght blue riding skirt with silver stars and gold trimmed; bodice and sleeves of purple velvet with rich embroidery; tastefully jewelled crown, and flowing from it a white lace veiling; gold trimmed silver wings, glass beads and tinsel. {Planet curtain.) ♦ ACT III. SCENE I. ENCHANTING SEASHORE LANDSCAPE IN VENUS. Pyramidal floral hill visible through tivansparent cascades, forms back- gi-ound;lyresbai5ed trees bearing beautifully hued flowers, diamonds feathers, golden and silver fruits, etc. To the left a crystal pavilion with throne, upon which a queen in full state, surrounded by court ladles is seated. In front some thirty genii and fairies singing the welcome of Venus. "El Bienido a Venus", while dancing around the tastefully decorated silk ribbon pole. Supported by the stout ribbons, they tiirn occasionally complete somersaults. On the right. Albert upon yellow velvet divan, just awakening, supports his head by leaning it on his arm ; he watches in a dazed manner the conclu- sion of this strange spectacle, whUe Mabel from behind fans h.'m. Fairies separate into social groups. Albert. — How beautiful! How sweet! Where am I? It looks as if I were in heaven... and you with me, angel Mabel? Won't you please tell me how and when did I come here? Mabel. — You have been travelling on horseback with me for fifty 3'ears. (Albert jumps up.) Yes Albert, for fully fifty years, that need not frighten you. The earth is rather far on; however our journey passed like a dream, since time counts as no- thing here; I hope you will soon become accustomed to it. Albert. — But tell me, sweet Angel, where are we, and who are those beautiful beings over there? Is that not the Queen in the center? Mabel. — Truly, so you may call her; she is the Queen of Love, the Queen of Venus. It's in this magnificent planet that we are at the present. Albert.— It seems, that the enchanting fairies around here are waiting for us. The Queen is now beckoning to you. Oh, what kind expression is on her face!.. What a glorious world this is!.. I certainly have a great desire to hear what they have to say. Both advancing towards the throne are greeted with low bows by the sweetly smiling fairies. Mabel. — (Introducing) Queen Palas of Venus! This brother of ours was lost. I succeeded in saving him while he has sin- eerily been doing his part; — receive him according to merits. Queen. — (Raising her right hand) Albert,happy soul! Heaven has assisted you to save yourself and others. We ofter you a hearty welcome to this loveliest of all planets, the celebrated — 24 — morniii