PS 3507 .0745 S3 1910 ^URAL COMEDY DRAMA IN Copy 1 UR ACTS ,-. .-. .. .-. .-. "Sackett's Corner Folks'' —OR- "The Prodigal Brother" -BY- HARRY M. DOTY, CHATHAM, N.Y. PRICE 25 CENTS A COPY NOTE— ERROR ON PAGE 15. On page 15 an error was made in Deacon Todd's first speech when mak- ing up the forms of this hook. The line now reads: "If he does, he is a higger fool than I ever took him to be." This line appears correctly two speeches helow. The first line of Dea- con's first speech on this page should read: "Beats all, don't it, how these hero fellers what skip" etc. Sackett's Corner Folks -OR- The Prodigal Brother Rural Drama in Four Acts By Harry M, Doty Author of the Rural Comedy, ''In Old New England" AMATEUR PRODUCTION FREE Professional or Traveling Companies are forbidden^the use • of this play, or any part of it without the writter. consent of the Author Pmblished by J. W. Darrow and H. M. Doty Chatham, N. Y. Price 25 Cents Per Copy Copyright 1910 Harry M. Doty Chatham, N. Y. ?33Sor .074-5 53 CAST OF CHARACTERS Nathaniel Pettigrew, ''Uucle Xat" one of Xalure 's tivobiemon, Avho faces a perplexity but emerges triumphant. Elijah Pettigrew, the prodigal brother, who, in his youEo-^r days, Avasn't what he might have been. Ralph Pettigrew, "Uncle Xat's" son, who makes a saoiince but loses nothing by it. Bildad Teeter, P. M., who ''keeps" the village store, ''i-::is" the postoflfice and believes in "paying back a joke right prompt." Deacon Todd, who is a master hand at dominoes and like? to know what's going on. Adnah Rogers, the village blacksmith, who can shoe hors-^s. make and mend wagons, but who isn't OA'er anxious to do it. Melancthon Satterlee, whose chief aim in life is to liv-? without undue exertion. Jim Bentley, who carries the mail, distributes gossii"* &:id is in- clined to stretch the truth "just a leetle". Eb. Gowdy, who "ain't just right in his head" and "lierefore cuts some peculiar capers. Sime Flanders, "Uncle Nat's" hired man, who believes la persis- tence but finds the course of true love isn't always smooth. Master Willie Williams Avith an old head on young shoulders. He believes in being well paid for valuable information. Mrs. Pettigrew, "Uncle Xat's" Avife, a true helpmate aa-i. a most excellent advisor. Huldy Haskins, who isn't in a marrying mood until the show is nearly over. Arathusa Gwendoline Fitzgibbons, who is someAvhat g":3by and Avho Avants someone to share her lot. Submit Tewksbury, Avho says what she thinks and who thinks a good deal. She gets her " come-appance. " Little Mary Williams, a fluent listener but not much of :>. talker. CCLD 23525 SYNOPSIS. A«'T T, Scene: Store and postoffice ^t Sackett's Corners. — J'laying riominoes. — "There ain't goin ' to be no scrap,'' — Bildad and SubiJiit. Tamperiiig with the mails. — Submit 's postal. — Submit in hi^h oadgeon. — "I hain't on the last lap yet." — Arrival of the mail. — vVfnderful corn and more wonderful pumpkins. — "If that .liorse of yours can go as fast as you kin lie, he'll get to the end of the :(",jre afore he starts.'' — "Don't you wish we had some of tliem pumpkins all made into pie?" — A load of turnips for the (•(111 or. — Lucal news, from the Claytown Center Clarion. — "Noses like hiss' n ain't on the market any more." — "Mary Ann Green is hein' sparked red hot." — The quilting party at Cy Hoskins'. — "I ain't seen her but I'll bet it's improved her looks." — Susie A\'liiti a •■.-:•■ gives up takin' lessons on the melodeon. — The demise of Abe Hines. — "Loss fully covered by insurance." — Some spir- ited bid(l:Bg. — AVillie Williams "tells on" Jim Bentley. — Arrival of " I'ljcie Nat." — Some dry weather stories. — The letter with the new fajjried stamp. — The message from Elijah. — After twenty- years. — ]v]iiah in hard luck and wants to come back. — The per- plexity (I "Uncle Nat." — Huldy makes a few pointed remarks. — *M WU2 lirought up to believe in repentance and forgiveness."— "dot fi -i'-ngue like a razor, hain't she?" — "And it ain't one o' them s:,i<-.y razors, nuther. " — Mel's solicitude for Huldy. — "Been a courrjij ■ her for five years but don't seem to be gifting along none." — The strange case of Eb Growdy. — "Thought he was a settin' i^n." — "Hangin' onto the pump for dear life." — Bildad and A(i!u:i,h get "the rigs" on each other. — "I like to pay a joke back rii-tt prompt." — The dinner horn. — "Do we eat to live or live Xr. -?,t?" ACT II. Scene: Sitting room in "Uncle Nat's" home. — "Woman's work. — "Mebbe they'A^e all got hired girls." — "Uncle Nat" fcrgets the "things from the store." — The letter from Mexico. — "He left us just when we needed him most." — Eeading the lett€". — "Didn't want no stain on the name of Pettigrew. " — Parson Bemiss' sermon and its effect upon "Uncle Nat." — Out to the bi-in to think it over. — Huldy 's admirers. — "I don't care a snap oi my finger for either of 'em." — "He'll forgive him and 4 SACKETT'S COEXER FOLKS tell him to come.'" — Mel and Huldy. — ''I'll bet Sime Flanders has been pesierin you again." — "A sour, crabbid, dried-up old wid- derer. ' ' — Sime and Huldy. — ' ' That homely old bach. ' ' — The ' ' sec- ond-hand husband.'"' — Sime hears Mel's soliloquy. — The "pie-faced jeliy fish ■ ■ and the ''spindle-shanked hyena." — Bloodshed averted. — "1 guess I'll tell Lije to come on." — Ralph's sacrifice. — The letter to Elijah. — "Seal 'er wp and I'll go and drop it in the mail box. ACT III. Scene same as Act 11. (Two months are supposed to have elapsed since Act II during which time Elijah Pettigrew and Aiarhusa Gwendoline Fitzgibbons have arrived at "Uncle ;Xate*s"" home). Arathusa "gushes''. — The shattered j^aradise. — Eb. and the imaginary horse. — I'll bet my suspenders on it." — ■^'A lunatic and violent, too.'' — "Uncle Nat" quiets Arathusa 's fears. — Changing Eb 's mind. — "Dinner? That's so." — The im- provement in Elijah. — The pancake race. — "If you don't git your reward on the other side, there just ain't no truth in scripter. '' ■ — Submit on an errand of mercy and help. — She encourages (f) Flijah. — "Course, if you've got to go, the Corner is as good a place as any to be lajd away in." — "Uncle Xat's" contribution. — Lon Jeffers poverty stricken. — "Never could seem to get on." — Mel tises Eb. in his effort to win Huld}'. — "If this scheme works I'll soon have Sime Flanders cut out. — Eb. and the imaginary v^dfe. — V/eeding onions. — "It worked like a charm. I've got her thinkin"!" — Sime 's big idea. — Eb. again pressed into service. — Another imaginary wife. — "I'm the laziest critter on earth." — The scheme worked fine. — The "tech" of rheumatism. — "I've got the inside track now, all right." — Arathusa wants a husband to share her lot. — Mel an eavesdropper.— "Here is where Mel Satter- lee gits acquainted with the owner of the aforesaid lot." — Mel and Arathusa. — "You country men are so kind and considerate." — "Arathusa Gwendoline Fitzgibbons." — "Melancthon Hezekiah Satteriee. ■ ■ — Mel proposes. — Accepted. — "A $25,000 lot and it's mine. ' ' — • ' My hunk of maple sugar. ' ' — ' ' My onliest own. ' ' — Keep- ing it quiet. — Eb. on the job. — He tries his hand at love making with the aid of the churn. — "Ain't a bad looker, nuther. " — "My can of maple syrup. ' ' — Sime and Huldy. — Huldy surrenders. — Eb. in the right place at the wrong time. — A drop in churns. ACT lA'. Scene same as Act III. The mysterious letter. — Help for Lon Jeffers. — The unknown friend. — Mrs. Pettigrew 's curiosity. — "Hope my snorin' won't disturb you." — Eb. lets the cat out of the bag. — Bread and milk for Eb. — "Have any spe- cialists ever ezamiiied himf — ^Mel owns up. — His conference with "Uncle Nat.'' — "For obtaining a husband under false pre- SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 5 tenses. •—Arathusa's 'Mot".— ''If either of you has been 'took in' I fi^'ger it's her."— "Uncle Nat's" advice.— The tempest averted.— Mel 's change of mind.— Eb. in a chicken mood.— How Deacon Todd and Jim Bentlev didn't get the hundred.— The mys- terious i-iend pays the dominie's back salary.— " Uncle Nat" gets one ci the mysterious missives.— "These here old specs must be playri:' me a "trick. "—A $20-00 bank account.— Ralph wants to be piEciied.- More mystery.— Ralph 's college course assured.— Mrs. Pettigrew "clean beat ".—Woman 's curiosity.— " Whoever 'tis that's doin' this has got my religion to a T. "— Arathusa, Nat and Elijah.— Arathusa worried.— More confessions.— "I fear he don'T love me."— More advice.- Another tangle straightened. —Si me "r, rings more news.— The strange doctor.— The operation oi^ £b.— • Cut a hole in his head and took out a piece of bone."— Eb. as iood as new. — Physician sent by the unknown friend. — Curiosity at fever heat.— "I'd give my best heifer to know who ?tis. "— -And I'd throw in my best reseet for gingerbread."— Sime's tLgagement.— Congratulations.— Huldy "owns up."— The identity of the mysterious friend revealed.— A lucky streak in mininc;.- improvements on the farm.— The home for Sime and H^ilciv — Mrs. Pettigrew to have her hired girl.— Making amends. NOTE. Thf arrangement of the stage to represent a village store in the fivsz act is not difficult. The postoffice boxes may easily be represented by obtaining at any grocery store one or more. of the wooden "boxes in which are shipped canned and bottled goods and which hje divided into square or oblong compartments. Remove both t<>p and bottom of the box, place a glass over one side, paint numbers on the glass to represent box numbers, place the boxes on one ti^d of the counter and fill with letters, postals and papers. A ccanter which has been discarded will be easy to find in al- most* acT village. The arranging of the shelving back of this counter needs no direction. Any grocer will loan a sufficient quau- titv of canned goods to make a showing. Other furnishings may include a set of old-fashioned counter scales, a small show case, a barrel containing a half dozen brooms, two or three flour barrels, pickle and mackerel kegs, a few soap boxes, some hard-bottomed chairs, an old cofeee mill, if one can be borrowed, a box containing a few pairs of boots and shoes. Manv munufacturers furnish dealers ' with empty paper boxes, such'a.i' their goods are placed in, for advertising purposes. These « SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS .can also be borrowed from almost any store. Posters, placards .-and adA-ertisemeiits of various lands, luing on the walls, add real- asm to trie scene. The furnishings of the store can be carried to any extent de- rsired, depending solely upon the stage room available. In this act all entrances and exits may be made at one point, representing the street door of the grocery. The counter ■should be placed at the extreme left or extreme right of the stage. If the coffee mill mentioned above can be obtained, a pleasing and realistic effect is obtained if, as the curtain rises, Bildad is dis- covered grinding coffee. Deacon and Adnah play dominoes in si- lence until the grinding is completed and Bildad has placed the ground coffee in a bag, tied it with a string and placed it on the •counter. "Sackett's Corner Folks" Act I Seeue: Store and postoffice at Sackett's Corner. Bildad Teeter, postmaster, grinding coffee or sitting in front of counter, reading paper. Deacon Todd and Adnali Eogers finishing game of dominoes; Melancthon Satterlee looking on. Deacon remarks *' Domino"; gathers up dominoes and board and says: Deacon — Shucks, Adnah, it hain't no use fer you to try to beat me i:>layin' dominoes. That makes four games out of five. I tell you I know more about that game than the man what in- vented it. Adnah — You do, hey? Then all I've got to say is that the feller laiows mighty little about it. Deacon — There, Adnah, don't take it to heart. I'll let you win next time. Adnah — You will, will ye? I've got one of them souvneer postage cards with a pikter on it showin' you lettin ' sumbody git anything you kin git fer yourself. I'm goin' to skunk ye next time, skunk ye, do you understand? Bildad — Hold on boys, hold on, the first thing I know you two young fellers will have your hands in each other's hair and you ain't either of you got no more'n 3'ou want. More "n that Uncle Sam won 't stand fer no fights in the postoffice. Mel. — No danger, Bildad. There ain't goin' to be no scrap. Couldn't nuther of 'em lick anything bigger 'n a postage stamp. This here sass afterward is a part of the game with 'em. (Enter Submit Tewksbury, 1. u. e.) Submit — Mornin', Bildad, any mail fer me? Bildad — Y^ep, the Claytown Center Clarion and a postal from Chicago. (Rises, goes behind case and returns, reading postal). This here postal is from Fake & Soakem, the greatest mail order house in the world. It says that the oilcloth and gingham has been shipped, that they're out of the complexion beautifier you ordered and that they can't send you that hair switch until you send 'em a bigger sample of hair, (Men all laugh.) Submit — (Indignantlv snatching postal and paper). The next 8 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS time I git a postal, Bildacl Teeter, I'll thank you not ic^ read it. I'll read it myself. My correspondence ain't none of y^ur busi- ness. I've got a great mind to report you to the goveracnent fer tamiDerin' with the mails. Bildad — Now hear her talk. That's what I git fer iryin' to be accommodatin'. I was jest reedin' it to you becuz I thought prob 'ly you 'd forgot your specs. Submit — Forgot my specs! I'll give you to understand, Bil- dad Teeter, that I don't need 'em. I hain't on the la.st lap yet. Bildad — No, ner I don't bleev you've ever ben on '.ae fust one. Leastwise I never hearn none of the hojs say so. Submit — Bildad Teeter, you're an impudent, insuitiu' old huss}'. You ain't fit to be postmaster. And I ain't the only one what says so, nuther. (Exits indignantly 1. u. e.) Mel. — Guess you give her her come-uppance that time, Bildad. Bildad — Well it does me good to show up them kind of folks what sends away fer everything they want. Her dad, like a lot of others, sends to them mail order houses and the stuff they git out there they pay cash in advance fer while what they git of me they have charged. If I hadn't been tryin' to collect fer a year from Submit 's father fer caliker fer her a dress, I wouldn 't say nothin '. I just want her to know that I know what t'li^^y done with the money they owe me. Adnah — What you say is right, Bildad, but where did you git that last wagon you bought? You didn't git it froaa. ate. Bildad — Why, no, er — you, see — that is — AdnaJi — Yes, I see. Shoe's kinder on 'tother foot now, ain't it? Jim Bentley — (Heard outside). Say boy, you just stand by that colt a minute, Vv^ill you while I run in with the mail. It'll save tyin ', (Enter Jim, carrying mail sack which he hands to Bildad). Hello, Bildad. l^ou can't say I ain't on time this morn- in'. Got the colt on the job, and here I am fifteen minutes ahead of time and the train was late down to Jonesville, too. (Bildad goes behind case and cancels stamps after which he distributes the mail). Mel. — Shouldn't think a mail route is just the place fer a colt, Jim. Jim — AVell, p'raps not, but he's got to be broke in s}3:ie time so's to give the old mare a rest and it might as well c-yvae fust as last. (Villagers, silent parts, enter, 1. u. e,, and stand or sit. wait- ing for the mail and when mail is distributed, get letters or pa- pers and exit. There should be three or four of these characters.) (Willie Williams and his little sister enter, 1. u, e., and sit SACKETT'S CORXER FOLKS 9 with mouths opeU; listening to the conversation of Deacon, Mel. and Adnah.) Deacon — I hear that new feller what bought the Whipple place, between here and Jonesville, has got us all skunked on corn this year. Jim — Yessir. got the finest piece anywhere in these parts. You know he went in big for fertilizer. Everybody said he was plumb nigh crazy but they've changed their tunes since they saw that crop. H^ give me a sample of that fertilizer, 'long 'bout plantin' time and wanted me to try it. Said the yield would surprise me. and, sav, it sure did. Used that fertilizer in half a dozen hills and stuck a stick in each so's I would know 'em. Went out to look at it yesterday and the corn in them hills is so gosh dinged tall, I'll have to use ladders to git the ears. It won't take more'n half a dozen to fill a bushel basket, nuther. And that ain't all; where I put that fertilizer it growed a dozen ears on each stalk and I'll Le dad busted if there hain't a half a dozen ears on each of them sticks I used to mark the hills with. Aduali — Say, Jim, if that there colt of your'n can git over the road as fast as you kin lie, he'll go so rapid he'll git to the end of the loute before he starts. Mel. — Oh, I dunno^ Adnah. I'm inclined to believe Jim's tell- in' the gospel truth 'bout that corn 'cause I once saw that same sort o' fertilizer grow bunkum punkins on a lot that wouldn't grow white beans before. Never saw punkins grow like 'em. 'Twant BO use to try loadin' 'em on a wagon. Couldn't do it. Had to use stun boats to git 'em to the barn. And that wan't all of it. They was so pesky big w^e had to split 'em into quar- ters to git 'em through the barn doors. Deacon — Yessir, that 's right. That 's the fall my tenant house burned. Didn't have time to build another before cold weather set in so I just hooked my yoke of oxen onto one of them pun- kins, dragged it over to my place, cut doors and winders in it and my hired man and his family lived there all winter just as cozy as could be. Willie — Say, Sis, don't you wish we had one of them punkins up to our house, all made into pie? (Sister nods head vigorously.) Bildad — Say, Mel, here's your copy of the Clarion. You might like to look it over while I finish sortin' this here mail. (Looks at paper. "i I see the date on your label says October 1896. 'Bout time you took the editor another load of wood. Mel. — Nope, goin' to take him turnips next time. It's less trouble sittin' 'em. (Opens paper and begins to read in silence.) 10 SACKETT'S CORNEE FOLKS Deacon-Read ^er out loud, Md. Don't vou spcse me and Adnah and Jim wants to know what's goin' on? Mel.— AU right. Here she goes. (Reads.) '^Epli. Foster went to go down cellar to draw a pail of cider Tuesday. He slipped and went end over end and lit on the pail, squshin' it flatter n a pancake and skinnin " his nose. He'll have to buy a new one.'' DeacGii — Xew pail or neM- nose'? U Mel. PaiJ. I guess becuz noses like hissen ain't on the market iiny more. Mel. — (Reads). ''Cy Hoskins' wife had another quiltin' party ,by a feller from Hackettstown. Folks think thev ']] make a hitch ave their folks in the lurch w^ait 'till they see the poor- house starin' 'em in the face before they spend much time bein ' sorry fer what they've done. If he w^an 't in hard luck, you wouldn't hear nothin' from him 'bout makin' up with Nat and f ergittin " old scores. Nat oughter write a good, strong letter down there to hirn^ askin' him how" he likes bein' in the same fix he left iiis folks in years ago and say to him that he kin git out of it the best w^ay he can. Huldy — That 's your way of lookin ' at it. I was brought uj) to believe in repentance and forgiveness and so was Nat, As I said before, I'll bet Nat tells him to come on. Deacon — If he does, he's a bigger fool 'n I ever took him to be. Huldy — I want to know\ Well I'll tell you one thing. Deacon Todd, if there hadn't been someone to overlook the meanness and fergive the sins of some folks that live a good deal nearer here than Mexico, them same folks w^ould a had a good deal harder TOW to hoe. And I ain't mentionin' any names nuther. Deacon — Whew, Huldy, you needn't flare up so. You don't mean me. do you? Huldy — I ain't said who I mean but you've heard that old sayin' about puttin' on the coat if it fits. (To Bildad.) Well, Mr. Teeter, if ^^ou 've got them things ready, I'll start along or Nat '11 have to come back and see what's become of me. (Takes bundles raid exits 1. u. e.) Bildad — Say. she's got a tongue like a razor w^heu she gits riled, hain't she? Adnah — That's what she has. And it hain't one 0' them safety razors, nuther. Mel — Well, guess I'll be startin' on towards home and bein' Huldy *s got a team, p'raps she'll give me a lift, A woman hadn't ouohter be drivin' fer herself anyway, nowadays, wdth so many 16 SACKETT'S COENER FOLKS of them pesky automobiles likely to run her down any minute, (Exit Mel 1. u. e.) Bildad— Beats all how -fraid Mel is that Huldj's goin ' to git hurt, don't it? Adnah — He don't fool nobody none by sayin' that. He's been try in: to shine up to her fer five years that I know of but 3ie don't seem to be gittin ' along none. Deacon — It's a good thing he hain't. ThunderashunI I \\-ouldu 't be hooked xip to a woman wath a tongue like that fer anythiiiu'. Bildad — I'shaw, deacon, Huldy's all right. You musn 't lay it up agin her beeuz she got back at ye kinder hard when she was stickin" up fer Xat. Deacon — I don't, but I don't like the way some wimmen has of iiisinuatin' things. Them's the kind that keeps a man in hot water all the time. Adnah — Well, I wouldn "t spend too much time worryin ' 'bout Mel becuz he hain't got clear sailin' there, not by a jug full. Sime Flanders, what's workin ' fer Nat, has got a sort of a leanin' towards Huldy too, and she seems to treat 'em 'bout alike and Mel and Sime are as jealous of each other as two old cats. Deacon — Yes, Mel gits jealous every time a man looks at her, no matter who 'tis. Bildad — That 's so. Dave Stevens told me 'tother day that INIel is e\en jealous of Eb. Gowdy, brother of Hank Clowdy, who's been li^ in ' in Nat's tenant house this year. Eb. hain't quite right in liis head, you know. Adnah — Say, that's a strange case of Eb 's, hain't it? Hank was tellin ' me 'bout it 'tother day when he was down to the ^:hop to have his shovel mended. Eb. was as bright and lively a boy as ever was. Got took sick with typhoid fever and it went to his head and e^-er since then when he gits his mind sot on a thing, ho can't £iit it off of it until somebody comes along and talks to him a minute 'bout suthin' else. Hank and Tom Filkins Avas a tallvin' 'bout hatchin" chickens 'tother day and Eb. was listoiin'. Perty soon he was missin'. Hank went out to look fer him and wliere do you spoze he found him'i^ Bildad — T dunno. where? Adnah — Settin' in a bushel basket, cluckin' to beat the band. TTank tnld him to git up and then Eb. sez: ''Brahma hen, 15 eggs, sta;-ed on nest, set well, hatched 'em all," and so on. He thought he Avas a settin' hen. Heard Tom tell Hank what a good setter his Brahma hen was and how many chickens she hatched and the hen idee got into Eb 's head. It took Hank a minute or two to git SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 17 him th'Tikin' 'bout dinner, then when he'd eat enough, had to git his niimd changed agin or he'd a put down vittles all the after- noon. Hank's wife told Hank she was goin' over to Hacketts- town ro git a picture of the Rock of Ages to hang in the settin' room, AVhen she come back she found Eb. out in the back yard a haugin " onto the pump with both arms fer dear life. He thought he was that picter. Bildad — AVhat did she do then? Adnah — I didn't hear. Prob'ly she told him he was post- master down to Sackett's Corner and then most likely he begun to read everybody's postal cards he could git hold of. (Deacon and Adnah laugh boistrously.) Bildad. — Huh, think you're smart, don't ye? Adnah — Oh, toJeral^le, Bildad, just tolerable. Say, what time is it.^ Bildad- — (Looking at watch.) It wants a quarter to twelve, Adiiah — Jumpin' fishhooks! Is it as late as that. Didn't think 'twas more 'n ten o'clock. I must be gittin ' home to din- ner beeuz I'ete Sanders is a comin' down this afternoon to git a tire set and there hain't a spark of tire in that there forge, Bildad — Guess I'll have to git hold of Eb. Gowdy and put hin^ Jn that shop and make him think he's the village wagon maker if nnytiiing ever gits done, (Bildad and Deacon laugh,) Adnah — Think you're smart, don't ye? Bildad — Tolerable, Adnah, tolerable. Guess we're 'bout even on Eb ■^ readiu' postal cards now. (As Adnah exits,) Come in again" Adnah, Dea<:on — Adnah likes to git the rigs on 'tother feller, don't he? It's different, though, when the joke's on him, Bildad — Yes, but that don't make no difference with me, I kinder like to pay hack a joke right prompt and I couldn't let that chance sliji. (I^iuner liorn blows, Bildad goes to door and answers,) BiMad — All right, Mandy, Be right in, ('Bildad goes about, locking doors.) Deacon — Say, Bildad, do we eat to live or live to eat, Bildad — Gosh, deacon, there hain 't Init one answer to that riddle, 'specially when a feller hain't had a mouthful since break- fast. Deacon exits and Bildad follows after taking large door key from F'u:-i(et.) (CURTAIN.) ■JH SACKETT'S CORXETf FOLKS Act II Scone — Sitting room in Nat Pettigrew's home. Mrs. Petti- grew at work, sweeping and dusting. Mrs. P. — Dear suz, it does seem that there ain't no end to a woman "s work. I saw a piece in the almanac the other day that said: ''Man works from sun to sun but a woman's work is never done" and I declare to goodness, it's gospel truth. With bakin', churnin', sweepin', dustin ', mendin ' and patchin' we women folks never seem to git a breathin' spell, leastwise I don't, and we've got to keep goin' if things are kept lookin' half way respectable. I've read about these here study clubs and literary sassieties and other things wimmen belong to and I've w^ondered what shape their houses must be in because somethin' or other has got to be let go when a woman gits to be a jiner. Mebbe, though, they've all got hired girls, leastwise I 'hope so. That's somethin' I never had. AVheu Pa's brother Lije went away, all of a sudden, years ago and left us Avith a mortgage on the farm and nothin' much else but the clothes on our backs. Pa and me just had to put in our best licks to keep out o' the poorhouse without a thought of hirin' any- body to help us. But since Huldy's been here, things has been some easier. . (Enter Xat d. c. with letter.) Mrs. P. — "Where's the things from the store. Pa, out in the kitchen? Nat — Je-ru-sa-lem, Ma, I clean, plumb forgot all about 'em. Mrs. P. — I expected you might so I sent Huldy down to see Avhat was keepin' you and to git the groceries if you forgot 'em because we need 'em to git dinner with. Nat — T had the hull list right on my tongue's end when I w^ent into the store but Bildad handed me a letter that made me fergit about everything else. Mrs. P. — Land sakes, it must have been important. Nat — You're just right. Here 'tis. Mrs. P.— (Takes letter.) Prom Mexico. Pshaw, this can't be for you. You don 't know nobody down there. Nat — Just what I thought but it is fer me and it's from somebody we both know although there have been times when we wan't very proud of the acquaintance. Mrs. P. — Land o' Goshen! Who? Nat — Guess. Mrs. P. — Xow, Pa. you know I ain't no good at guessin'. Tell me. SACKETT\S CORNER FOLKS 19^ Nat — I'll have to because you couldn't guess it in a week.. It "s from Lije. Mrs. P. — What, Lije Tettigrew? Nat — Yes, Lije PettigreAv. Mrs. P. — Well of all things. It's twenty long years since we heard from him and we not knowin' whether he was dead or alive.. Nat — Yes, Ma, twenty years and durin' most of 'em my feel- :ms towards him wan't real brotherly, nuther. Mrs. P. — Y^ou had cause. Pa, you had cause. Nat — I sure did, Ma. I[e left us just when we needed him the most, left us a fightin ' fer our very lives, I've said un- christian things about him, and I've thought 'em too, but since 1 read the letter I've sorter softened towards him in spite of myself. After all, time kinder heals all wounds and twenty years is a long stretch. Mrs. P. — I know it does. Pa, but things such as he done are hard to overlook. Les read the letter, though. I'm gittin ' all in a fluster to know what he says. Nat — You read it. I want to hear it again. I was so kinder excited when I read it down to the store that I guess I didn't, really sense it all. (Mrs. P. takes letter and reads.) Durango, Mexico, 19 ... . (Supply date here.) JSTathaniel Pettigi"^w, Esq., Sackett 's Corner, N. Y. Dear Brother Nat: — • After the years that have passed and after the things that have happened, I hardly know how to begin a letter to you. Many times during the past few months I have tried to write but words failed me. This time I have succeeded although I fear a message from me will be unwelcome. Nor can I wonder. I wronged you. Candidly T admit it. I will not waste words but will come directly to the point. Nat, I ask the forgiveness of yourself and wife, al- though I do not deserve it. If ever a man was repentant, so am I. Surrounded by people who care nothing for me and have no inter- est in me, I feel myself an exile, an outcast. Nat, I yearn to come home. To know what T haA'e endured for twenty years might soften your heart which I know is hardened toward me. I deserved punishment and I have received it. May I comef May I spend the remainder of my days in the only place that can ever be home to me, ^mid those green fields, those glorious old hills and the scenes that were so familiar to me in years gone hyt^ Bon 't sar no, Nat, don 't punish me further. Whatever amends^ 20 SACEETT'S COENER FOLKS lie in my power I will make although I realize it is impj-sible to right all those wrongs. What is your answer? Please write at once. Don 't keep me in susjjense. Tour brother, ELijah. (Xat and Mrs. P. gaze at each other in silence.) Nat — Well, Ma, what do you think? Mrs. P. — I declare, Pa, I don't know. What do you think? Nat — 1 didn "t think of nothin ' else on my way from the store and I don't know as I am any nearer makin' up my mind than I was at the start. Mrs. P. — Well, I ain 't got no opinion, nuther. It strikes me so kinder sudden that I want to ponder on it. Nat — My first thought was not to pay no attentioi: to the letter or else to write him that no matter how much he is sufferin^ he won 't be punished enough f er what he has done to us by leavin * as he did, takin' the little money we had saved up to pay on the mortgage and leavin ' a lot of his bills fer me to j)ay out of what little we was able to git out of the farm. Of course I wasn't obliged to pay 'em but the folks he owed couldn't afford to lose it and I didn't want no stain on the name of Pettigrew if I could help it. Mrs. P. — Yes, Pa, you did and there ain't many other men in the Corner that would a done it. It's nigh onto imporsible to git some of 'em to pay their honest debts to say nothin' of them they don 't owe. Nat — As I was sayin', I'm kinder relentin' towards Lije. After I read that letter, I got to thinkin' 'bout parson Beniiss' ser- mon last Sunday. You know he bore down hefty on repentance and the heapin' on of coals of fire. It has been a long time since one of his sermons impressed me the way that one did. It seems to me now that I could repeat every word of it. It 's before me as plain as the market report in that there paper (points to paper on table.) These words keep running through my head; "There comes a time in the life of every man who has jjrievou:5l>- wronged another, a desire to undo, as far as he is able, what he has done That is repentance. When this desire, this regret, is deep .5eat^g=d the mental anguish of the transgressor is as great as, if not greater than that he has brought upon others. It means that he has come to a realizing sense of his sin, it means that the pleadings of the Silent Toice have triumphed, and when this time comes, when ia honesty and in earnestness he pleads for forgiveness, it is, it seenfcs to me, our duty to meet him half way, to let bygones be b7-g3nes, and *o extefii the helpin' hand to the repentant one." That wan 't all SACKETT'8 CORNER FOLKS 2B of it, Ma,, but the pith of the sermon is iu them fe\7 words. The- parson wau't ma kin' no attempt at eloquence; he wan't makin' no "grand stand play'- as our Ralph tells about. They was just plain Avords, tut they was spoke with an earnestness that drove- "era into the hearts and minds of us all. Mrs. P. — Well, Pa, if there's anything in comin' events castin'' their shadders before and preparin' folks fer what is goin' to- happen, it may be that the parson was especially inspired on our account when he wrote that sermon. Nat — There, Ma, that proves what I've always heard, that great minds move in the same channel. That's just what I've- been thinkin'. Perhaps it was the way the All "Wise took to show us our duty. And mebbe not. Perhaps 'twas just a happen so.. At any rate it sot me thinkin'. But I can't see my way clear just now. I'll go out to the barn and finish greasin ' that har- ness afore dinner and mebbe when I came in I'll know what to do.. If we write him to come, it's goin' to mean sacrifices we don't neither of us like to think about. (Exit Nat 1. u. e.) Mrs. P. — It sure is a tryin ' time fer pa but I guess he 'IL work things out all right in the end. He usually does. (Enter Huldy r. u. e.) Huldy — It's a fortunate thing I'm here, Sarepty, to tag the^ men folks around and remember what they forgit. Suppose I hadn't been here today to chase Nat down to the store fer them, things. You wouldn '*t a had 'em, that 's all. Mrs. P. — That's right Huldy, but there's an excuse fer pa to- day. You step, to the door and tell Sime to put out the horse and: I'll tell you all about it. Huidy — The horse is bein' put out. Mel Satterlee, knowin'" that old Daisy is skittish of them automobiles whe» she f^eU like- it, rode up with me so 's I wouldn't be brought home in pieces if I met one. I've ast him to dinner, seein ' as how it's near din- ner time and considerable of a piece to walk back to the Corner.. Mrs. P. — That's all right, Huldy, but you know it won't please Sime to have Mel around. If there 's any bloodshed, you '11: be the cause of it. Huldy — Got to have your dig at me, hain't you. I reckon^ there ain't goin' to be no fuss because I don't care a snap of my finger fer either of 'em and they know it. Mrs. P. — I hain't so sure about that, Huldy. HuMy — About what '? Mrs. P. — About your not' carin ' fer either of 'em. You just can't nafi'ke up your mind which, that's all. 22 SACKETT'S COKNER FOLKS Huldy — 'Tain 't no such thing. Well, if we're goin to havo any dinner today, I've got to be movin *. It must be time now. Mrs. P. — Dinner's cookin' and I figgered to have it late to- day because we had a late breakfast and Pa and Sime sed a late dinner and a lunch before goin' to bed would just suit 'eai. Be- sides, I want to tell you about a letter Pa got this morain '. Huldy — I know all about it, I knew it before you lid. Mrs. P. — Land sakes, where 'd you hear about it? Huldy — Down to the store. Nat opened it there, reai it, told them setters what was in it and they was all talkin' about it when I got there. Mrs. P. — Well, what do you think about it? Huldy — When I first heard about it, and remembered Lije "s low-down, contemptible meanness, I was fer tellin' him to stay where he is, keep on sulferin' and see how he likes it ani that no matter how sick or poor or lonesome he is, it's good eaough for him. But I dunno. Mebbe that hain't the way to look at it; meb- be if he's thoroughly repentant, he ought to be given a chance to show it. But no matter how much or how little he think* j.bout it, I know what Nat '11 do. Mrs. P.— What? Huldy — He'll forgive him and tell him to come. Mrs. P. — When Nat went out, just afore you come, ae said if Lije comes it will mean sacrifices we don't neither of us like to think of. I know what he meant. AYe've been scrapm' and pinchin' to git money enough together to send Ealph tj college. You know his head is set on studyin ' electricity. If Lije L^mes, it will mean that Kalph will have to wait anyway another fear and mebbe longer for, from Lije 's letter, I see he is sick and poverty stricken. There ain't no place fer him to sleep so we 'IL have to raise that ell to make another room and will most likelf have to pay out considerable for doctor's bills for him and there ain't no tellin' what other expense there will be. But if Pa wants to for- give Lije and let him come back, I ain't got a word to say. I couldn't be that ongrateful. I don't fergit how, when mother was took sick, Pa went right over, brought her here and doae every- thing he could fer her as long as she lived and how he set up night after night with brother John when he had the tj'phoid. John always said it was Nat's nursin' that saved his life. Turn aboat is fair play. If Lije comes, I'll treat him as if nothin " iad hap- pened and will do all I can for him. Huldy — Sarepty, y 'u're doin' just right and it's exactly the way I would lopk at it if 1 was in your place. (Enter Melancthon Satterlee d. c.) 8ackp:tt's coexer folks £3 Mel— Howdy, Mrs. Pettigrew. Ain't iiothin' iu pertickler the matter with this brand of M'eather is there? Mrs. P.— Xo, Mel, there snreJy hain't. JIuldy, 1 'il go and see if the water is bilin ' off tlieni ])otatoes while you entertain Mel. (Exit Mrs. r. d. e.) Mel — .Say, Huldy, you said when we was eoniin ' up that you couldn't listen to what 1 wanted to say because you was so flus- tered for fear we would be hit by one o' them autermobiles but there certainly ain't nothin' goin' to hit us here unless it's an earthquake and there ain't one o' them due yet fer quite a spell. Huldy — I know well enough what you're goin' to say 'cause you'\e ^aid it every chance you've had for the last five years. Mel — Well, if you know what 'tis, there hain't no use o' beatin" round the bush. You know I want you, Huldy and want ye bad. Xow which is it, yes or no? Huldy — It liain t nuther. I hain't ready to talk marryin '. Mel — I'll bet Sime Flanders has been pesteriu' you again. Xow. Huldy, what's the use of your fritterin' away your time on him? He's a sour, crabbid, dried-up old widderer. You don't ^vant no second-hand husband. And there ain't no use of it, iiuther. when you can git a brand new one by just sayin ' the ^vord. Huldy — ] ain't sayin' nothin' for or agin' Sime but I hain't in a marryjn' mood today and I don't w^ant to hear no more 'bout it now. Me] — All right, Huldy, but you can find cases right here in the Corner where second wives ain 't treated as they ought ter be and you'd better think o' that before you turn dowm a chance to git a husband that'll do by you as a wife ought to be done by. Sime — (Heard outside). Mel! Mel! (Putting head in door) Oh. here ye be, eh? Say. Mel, Nat wants to know if you'll come out to the barn and show him how to make them rings you put in your hogs' noses. Mel — All right, Sime, I'll be right there. (Aside) Drat the pigs and darn them rings. (Exit d. c.) {Enter Sime 1. u. e. ) Sime— (Looking after Mel) So that homely old bach is hang- in' round here agin is he, Huldy? I hope you don't give him no encouragement. He ain't fit fer ye. Never seen one of 'em yet that got married at his time of life that knowed how to treat a wife. What you want, Huldy. is a man that's had some experi- ence with women. Ho you supjtose one o' them sour old baches ever thinks of fetchin' in an armful of w^ood or a pail of water or anything else fer a wife when he gits one? 'Course not. If you 24 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS marry Mel. Satterlee, it won't be a 3'ear before you'll work your- self down to a shadder. You can see plenty of cases of it right here in the Corner. Hook up double with nie, Huldy, and git a helpmeet that will be one in suthin ' besides name. Huldy — I hain't in no ''hookin' up" mood today, Sime, and if I was, 1 guess nothin' you could say about second wives down to the Corner would make any difference. I rather guess I'd be able to take care of myself with a second-hand husband or a first- hand one if I wanted either, which I don't. (Ei:it Huldy r. u. e.) Sime — Second-hand husband. That means me. Some more of Mel. Satterlee 's insults. Gcsh, but he's jealous. Mel's had it in fer me ey^v since I used to lick him every chance I got when we went to school together. Dinged if I don't believe I could do it yet and I will, too, if he uses that there tongue of his'n too free. (Looks off left.) There he comes now, lookin' madder 'n a hat- ter. He guesses I put up that job to git him down to the barn and away from Huldy. And he's right. I guess I'll just hide and see what happens. (Gets behind table.) (Enter Mel 1. u. e.) Mel — (Looking about.) Both of 'em gone, eh? Down in the kitchen a spooniu' I suppose. "Well, ding my buttons if I can tell what she sees about that Sime Flanders to admire. He's the hum- liest critter breath was ever put into. Gosh, but he's jealous of me. And I guess he's got reason becuz it kinder looks as if Huldy favors nic some considerable. If 1 Avas here all the tinu; like he is, he would stand no chance at all. He'd better look out what he says about me to her, though, or I might be inclined to pound the stufifin' outen him. Sime — (Rising from behind table.) Say, Mel, have you got any special time set when you want to commence that job? And say, talkin' about humly critters, I guess you hain't got no lookin' glass down to your house, hev ye? Mel. — So you was hidin' round to play the spy, was ye? Just like ye. You heard what I said and I hain't goin ' to take none of it back. Sime — (Advancing.) Ye hain't, eh? AVell I kin make ye and I'm half a mind to. So you think you can win Huldy Haskins, do ye? Well, I'll tell ye right now that she ain't goin' to take up with no old knock-kneed, piefaced, jellyfish like you when there's a real man (slaps himself on breast) around and don't you fer git it. Mel — '\\'ho's a pie-face, you old spindle-shanked hyena? Sime — I'll show you who's a hyena. (Shake fists in each other's faces.) SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 25 Mel — I'll show you who's a pie-face. (They clinch and commence to wrestle. Enter Nat d. c, Iluldy 1. u. e. and Mrs. T. r. u. e. Mrs. P. grabs Sime, Huldy grabs Mel. and Nat steps between and sep- arates them. Sime and Mel struggle to get at each other. Sime — Let go of me, Huldy, I'll teach him to be careful who he 's callin' names. Mel — Just give me a chance and I'll pulverize him so fine that that tongue of his'n won't be insultin' nobody else. Huldy — Stop or I'll never speak another word to either of you. Mrs. P.— I declare, I never seen such goins on. An^^body would think neither of you was more'n a dozen years old. Nat — Look a here, you young bantam roosters, you just straighten your feathers or else go out iu the back yard and have it out. Mrs. P. — Why, Pa, how you talk. Sime — -All right, Huldy, I '11 let up on him this time but it '.^ only for your sake. Mei — I'll quit just to accommodate you, Huldy, but he needs a thrashin'. Huldy — I'm ashamed of you. The idea of two men as old as you be a lightin'. If you think anything of my friendship, shake- hanOs and promise to behave yourselves hereafter. (Sime and Mel glare at each other but make no move to- shake lumds.) Huldy— Come, git a gait on you. (Sime and Mel advance slowh', grasp hands loosely and shake- slightly.) Huldy — Now, Sime, do you promise to behave? Sime — (First glancing vindictively at Mel.) Y-a-a-s. Huldy — Now, Mel, do you promise. Mel — Y-a-a-s. Huldy — Now git out of here, both of you, and come into the- kitchen where I can keep an eye on you. (Pushes Mel off 1. u. e.. and beckons to Sime who follows.) Nat — Say, Ma, that old sayin' about the course of true love- not runnin' smooth ain't no joke, is it? Mrs. P. — It don't appear to be in this case. Nat — Ma, I've ben thinkin' the thing over and I guess if you're willin' I'll tell Lije to come on. It'll be an awful dis- appointment to Ralph to know that he'll have to wait another year for that course in electricity but he's always listened to my reasonin' and I guess I can explain things to him. 26 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS Mrs. P. — All right, Pa, do as you think best and I f-romise you I'll do my part. Nat — I'm sure you will, ma, aud I want you to kii'-i" I ap- preciate it. Now suppose you go and git the letter really. You know letter writin' ain't my strong holt. Mrs. P.— I don't know exactly what to say, Pa, but I'll do my best. I'll bring it in and read it to 3'ou when it's finished and if it suits you, we'll put it in the box so the carrier can git it in the mornin'. (Exit Mrs. P. d. c.) Nat — Li.je don't deserve it but somehow or other I iu-t can't say no to him. (Enter Ralph Pettigrew 1. u. e.) Ralph — Hello, father, ben lookin' all over for yo.i and couldn 't find yon. Nat — That's because you didn't look in the right spor. What's, on your mind? Ralph — Nothin' serious. I just wanted to say tha: if you don't care, I guess I'll take the colt and drive over to Beoket to- those church doins tonight. Most everybody down to tl:'^ Corner is goin '. Nat — I ain't got no objections. Have a good time while you're young. Life is a short span anyway and if we have the pleas- ures, we've got to take advantage of them as they come along. But say, Ralph, I'm glad you come in because I've got siithin ' I want to say to you. You don't remember your uncle Elijah, be- cause you was a babe in the cradle when he went away. Ralph — No, father, I don't remember him and from what I've heard about him, it's just as well that I don't. I'm never goin' to forgive him for the way he treated you aud mother. Nat — Ralph, I've felt the same way for twenty yeai-=. I've said I never wanted to see him again and I've thought un-Christ- ian things about him but we've just had a letter from him and that, with some other things, has sort of changed the feelins of your mother and me toward him. Ralph — He couldn 't write any letter that would make me for- give him. Nat — So I used to think. This letter says he's in Mexico, all broken down in health, among a lot of people who don 't care nothin' for him and, although he didn't say so in so many words, I take it that besides not havin' any friends, he's poorer 'n pus- ley. He begs us to forgive him and wants to come back. Ralph, I'm the only near relative he's got and 3'ou know what the Good Book says about forgiveness. SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 27 Raipii^All right, father, do as you like. Of course it isn't ;inythii>i: to me. Nat — Yes^ Ralph, it Js. His comin' back will mean consider- able to you and that's what T meant a minute ago when I said I wanted ti; Talk to you. I've promised you the course in electricity you havv wanted since you entered your teens. We've been savin' up the money and have got nearly enough but if your uncle comes back it -.r.eans more expense. He will want medicine and perhaps care th^t we Avill have to pay for. There ain't a room in the house w- can give him. It means that we've got to go to work and rai^c that ell one story that we've been hopin' to do for so many y-;us and it'll take money and all we've got is that we've laid asiu'^ for your education. Ralpla — I suppose that meaus you want me to let the educa- tion yi'. Nat — No, Ralph, it don't, but it means you would have to ^vait. I "ni goin' to give you an education if I have to mortgage the farrr; to do it, but you're young yet and I'm hopin' that in a year or t'.vo we will save enough more, somehow or other, to pay for your course. The question is, are you willin' to bear your portion of. the sacrifice we will all have to make in order to let your uncle Liie come back? Ralpk — Father, let me ask you a question. Do you really want UTicle Elijah to come? Nat — Yes, boy, I do. He ain't done right by us but it's our duty to 'i'xn out the helpin' hand if he is repentant and asks our forgive/je^s. Eaipli — Then I 11 do my part. You've done the very best you could by me so far and I can see it would be ungrateful if I stood in the way of something you want although it means a disap- pointuieLt aud a sacrifice. It won't be any harder for me than for you and mother. If uncle Elijah's fate hangs on my decision, A'ou may tell him to come. Nat. — Thank you, boy, thank you. It was hard for me to ask this but I rather thought you would do it. Ralph — While you 're at it why don 't you do that ell addi- tion oti ^nto two or three rooms instead of one big one and then take a summer boarder or two? Other folks around here are doin' it aud rnakiu' money at it, too. Na.t — I declare, boy, I'd never thought of that. I'll talk it over with your mother. A few extra dollars wouldn't come amiss. Ralph — Well, if I'm goiu ' over to Becket, I'd better go out aud was/j that carriage. :28 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS Nat — All right, and on your way out, ask your mother if she's jgot that letter done yet. (Exit Ralph 1. u. e.) Nat — I declare, the boy took it better 'n I thought he would He's true blue and no mistake. (Enter Mrs. P. d. c. witl-: letter) Mrs. P. — Here is the letter, Pa^ and, I declare, it was the hardest one T ever tried to write. Nat — I don 't doubt it, Ma, but I knowed you could do a bet- ter job at it than I could. You know I got pretty well acquainted •with your letter writin' several years before we stood up in front -of old parson Brown and I always said that there wan 't none of "em that could beat you at sayin ' a thing short and to the point. Less hear what you 've got writ. (Both sit. Mrs. P. adjusts spectacles and reads:) Sackett's Corner, X. Y. (Supply date.) Mrs. P. — ^'Dear Brother Lije: " Is that the way you want to ■start it? Nat — Y-a-a-a-s, I guess so, although it kinder goes agin' the ■grain as I think back. But let it go that way. Mrs. P. — (Resuming). Your letter received and I was very much surprised to liear from you." Nat — That's all right, so far. Mrs. P. — (Resuming). I'll say, right at the stan, that when ■anyone comes out, point blank^ and asks f er f ergiveness, it 's hatd work to refuse it. Therefore I forgive you. But that isn 't the -onl}^ reason. I haven 't forgo t what was taught me and you at mother's knee and I've tried to live up to it all these years. You ■didn't treat me just as a brother should but I'll overlook it all — • Nat — That's good, ma. I want him to know we ain't forgot. Mrs. P. — (Repeats.) ''But I'll overlook it all and wnll wel- 'Come you back and Sarepta and me will do the best we know how by you." (I thought I'd put that in so he'd know I ain't agin' his ■ comin '.) Nat — That's all right, ma; good idee. Mrs. P. — (Resuming.) ''And will let bygones be bygones. Let us know about when you'll be here and we'll be on the look- 'out for you. ' ' Nat. — Fust rate, ma, fust rate. Plenty long enough and it tells the hull story. Seal 'er up and I'll go out and drop it in ;the box. (Mrs. P. seals letter and hands it to Nat.) Mrs. P. — And I'll go and see how Huldy 's gettin ' on with the •dinner. (Exit Mrs. P. d. c. Exit Nat 1. u. e.) CURTAIN. SACKETT'S COSNER FOLKS 29 Act III (iScviae: Same as Act 11.) (T^o months are supposed to have elapsed during which time Elijah ras arrived, also Miss Arathusa Fitzgibbons, a city boarder who is an enthusiastic member of the Society for the Prevention of Crueity to Animals.) (Enter Ara. d. c.) Ara. — Oh, this is lovely, grand, beautiful, superb. Pure and exhilarating ozone, verdant pastures, majestic forests, babbling brooks, pleasant walks. The odors of the flowers and the new mown ha_y are surpassing fragrance, wonderful incense. Oh, that T could stay here always to bask in the beautiful sunlight, to gaze at Nature's wonderful and entrancing panorama, to witness her kaleidescoi)ic changes as one tint succeeds another on the giants of the forsets in the glorious autumn time. It is soul-stirring and when OEC stops to ponder, he is filled with awe at the marvelous works CI the Creator. Oh, it is sublime, wondrous and sublime; so resti:il. so refreshing, (Sighs.) But in four short weeks I must forsake it all and reluctantly return to the place where duty calls to the Vaisy mart, the overgrown metropolis where all is hubbub and eoTjfusion, where humane instincts and thoughts of right and justice are endangered and sometimes forgotten in the chase for the almighty dollar, where the poor, dumb brutes are the victims of atrocious cruelties, where, in the conduct of public affairs, men are fornd whose only thought is of gain and self-aggrandizement. There I labor with others of my sex that there may be seen the dawn ..-f a better day, the day when woman shall have the right of frar -hise conferred upon her when — • (Eb. Gowdy heard outside.) Eb. — Whoa, durn ye. Stand still 'till I git into this wagon or I'll sn:ar-h in your old slats. Ara-. — Oh, horrors. A poor horse in the hands of a human )nonster. And in this beautiful spot, too, where I supposed only the most humane instincts existed. Is my idea of a paradise to be shattered? Is human nature the same the world over? I must hasten to the relief of that poor animal. (Starts to exit d. c. when she meets Eb. entering. Eb. takes no notice of Ara.) ETh. — (Starts about stage as if driving a horse and goes throuiiri motions of whipping. Ara., in fright, rushes about stage to avoid him.) Go on there. I'll teach you to stake. G'lang. (whip^) durn your old hide, (whips). That there jag of wood 30 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS don't weigh more 'n a hundred pounds and I'll bet my suspender3 on it. Ara. — Oh, what shall I do? A lunatic and violent, too. Eb. — (AVhips vigorously- and then walks about stage quietly with arms extended as if holding reins over a horse that had just been started after a fit of balking.) There. I thought I'd git you started. Ara. — I must reason with him by gentle and persuasive means. (To Eb.) Please, kind sir, let me plead with you in the name of humanity to be kind to your poor, dumb animal, your faithful servant, the horse, man 's best friend. Eb.— (Still driving). Don't bother me. Got this old bone heap started and if I let him stop before he gits to the top of this hill, I couldn't start him again with nothin' short of dynamite. (Enter Nat d. c.) (Eb. ignores him.) Ara. — Oh. Mr. Pettigrew, I'm so glad you've come. I am so frightened by this awful man. He is raving crazy and in his de- lirium is abusing a poor horse. I have tried to reason with him so that if he ever really does drive a horse, he w^iil be kind to it. Nat. — Shucks, Miss Fitzgibbons, he wouldn't hurt a flea. That's Eb. Gowdy, one of our neighbors, what ain't just right in his head at times. ^Vhen he gits his mind sot on a thing, some- times, he can't git it off until someone changes it fer him and this is one of them times. On his way from the Corner just now he passed old Jim Green who was tryin' to start his balky horse up a hill and Eb. thinks he's doin' the same thing. I'll change his mind in a jiffy. (Goes to Eb. and grasps him by the arm.) Hello, Eb., you ain't drivin' no horse. You're listenin' fer the dinner horn and when you hear it, you're goin' to run fer home like all git out. Eb. — (Pulls away.) Giddap, think I want to be all day git- tin' home with this here jag o' wood? (Whips.) Nat. — Eb., see here. Hungry, dinner horn, dinner, listen, run. (Nat goes r. and puts hand to ear as if listening. Eb. stops whip- ping and watches.) I hear it. Dinner's ready. Dinner Eb., horn, run. Eb. — Dinner? That's so. Hungry? Oh, my. (Clasps hands across stomach. Goes r. and listens.) Horn, Nat, horn. Dinner, pork and beans, potatoes, coffee. Good bye, Nat, see you later. (Runs off r.) Nat. — There he goes, Miss, and he won't think of nothin' but dinner until someone switches his mind off onto suthin' else or the spell leaves him. Been that way fer years. Had typhoid fever when he was a boy and that's the way it left him. SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 31 Ara.— What a sad case. And to think there should be such misery amid such beautiful surroundings. Nat. — Yes, 'tis too bad but I've noticed that if a feller is singled out fer bad luck, it generally comes to him no matter who he is or where he lives. (Enter Mrs. 1*. 1. u. e., dust cloth in hand.) Mrs. P. — Say, Pa, Lijah is a settin' in his chair out under the old harvest apple tree and the sun's got around so it's perty hot. He wants to know if you'll come and help him in here where it's cooler, Ara. — And I think I'll take a walk down to the brook before dinner. I want to gather some of those beautiful flowers. (Exit r. u. e.) Nat. — All right, Ma, I'll go right out. If Lije keeps on im- provin' the way he has since he come, it won't be long before he kin navigate alone. The day he got here he could hardly stand up and this moruin' M'hen I helped him out to the tree I didn't do nothin', scarcely, but stiddy him a little bit. (Exit 1. u. e.) Mrs. P. — Yes, and I do hope he'll keep on improvin ' because lie keeps gittin' more 'n more chipj^er when lie sees he's gittin^ his strength back. I guess I'll just take a minute to dust up be- fore Pa and Elijah git here. (Dusts all the furniture in silence previrnT- 1o entrance of Nat. and Lije.) (l'i:ter, slowl.v, Nat. and Elijah. Nat supports him. Elijah is made up pale and walks with a cane.) Mrs. P. — (Moving easy chair near table.) Pa. help 'Lijah to this chair. It 's inore comfortable 'n any of the rest of 'em. (Elijah sits and wipes face with handkerchief.) Elijah — Thank you, Nat, and you, too, Sarept}'. I don't know how I'm ever gom' to pay you for the kindness you're show- in ' me. Mrs. P. — Shucks, 'Lijah, don't you say a word. We're gittin' our pay by seein' you gettin' your strength back from day to da3^ Nat. — Yessir, Lije, this here brand of pure air is just the very best kind of a bracer. Beats these here patent medicine tonics all holler. 'Tain't goin' to be no time at all before you and Sime will be a racin' every mornin' to see who can put down the most of them buckwheat pancakes of Huldy's. Elijah — T hope so, Nat, and I don't know but you're right becuz I certainly am a f eelin ' better. There was never a happier minute in my life than when I received your letter and although I was comin' as fast as steam would carry me, it seemed as if we was just crawlin'. 52 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS Nat. — Good thing, then, you didn't liave to com*' tae old- fashioned stage coach way, AA'an.'t it? Elijah — Yes, it was. Nat. I never wouhl have sinvived it. And when I finally did git to the Corner, it seemed as if I couldn't wait to* git a glimpse of the old farm. Mrs. P. — And now you're just goin' to enjoy yourself, ^it well and strong and have nothin' to worry about. Elijah — Mebbe I won't worry but I can never forgi: how I wronged you and Nat years ago and I'll never be able to forgive myself or make proper amends. Nat. — Lije, don't you ever let me hear you say that again. "When mother 'n me wrote you that letter to come to us we decided that bygones should be bygones. What is past is goin"* to be a closed book. We ain't never goin' to-, speak of it again and we're goin' to try not to think of it. Right here is where we aiake a new start; you're one of us again and so long as we've got a cent, you're goin' to have your share. Elijah — Thank you, Nat, thank 3'ou. Although I don't de- serve it, nothin' I've ever heard has done me as much good as them few words. You and Sarepty are two in a thousand and if you don't git your reward on the o"^er side, there just sin't no truth in scripter. (Enter Ralph d. c.) Ralph — Pa, Submit Tewksbury is out in the idtehen aai wants to know if she kin see you on a little matter of busines-;. Nat. — Certain, send 'er right 7n. (Exit Ralph d. c.) • Mrs. P. — Well. I wonder what it can be that Subnih wants. Suppose it's anything jDrivate? Nat. — Nope, I don't. If she's got anything to sr}\ she's goin' to say it here. I hain't havin ' no secrets from j m and. Lije. (Enter Submit d. c.) Submit — Mornin' folks. Well, if there ain't 'Lijah. [Shakes hands with Elijah.) Heard you was here but hadn't seen you before. Lookin' kind o' pindlin', ain't ye? Kinder different from what you was when you went away. Don't suppose it's consumption, do you? Looks some like it. You've got the con- sumptive color. But then, I hain't goin' to say nothin' to dis- courage you. Course you want to live as long as you can but if you've got to go, the Corner is as good a place to be laid away in as any although they ain't keepin ' the cemetery up like they used to and I 'spose the time will come when it won't be aothin'" but a lot of weeds. SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 33^ Elijah — No, Submit, I don't suppose I do look as I used to^ and I notice you've changed considerable but, of course, when one gets to be your age — Submit — Well, Lije Pettigrew, that's a nice way to talk to me- when I come here and try to say somethin' comf ortiu ' and en- couragin ' to you. Nat — Kinder got your comeuppance that time, didn 't you Sub- mit? But what business have you got with me? Submit — I declare, I almost forgot that. You know 'Lonzo Jeffers has been sick a long time. The ladies' aid society sent me over there yesterday to see now they was gittin' on. They're sufferin' fer the necessaries of life and I've started out to see- what I kin git fer 'em. Nat. — What do you want me to give, Submit? Submit — Anything you want to. Somethin' to ?at would' probably be as acceptable as anything. Nat — How would a barrel of j^otatoes do? Submit — Just the thing. Mrs. P. — Yes, and they shall have a big roll of butter, too,, and I shouldn't be surprised if I can find some clothes of Ralph's that Huldy and me can make over for the children. I'll go and' see right away. (Exit Mrs. P. 1. u. e.) Nat — And I'll go and tell Sime to take them potatoes over before night. (Exit Nat 1. u. e.) Submit — And I'll be joggin' on because I've got a lot of places to stop at. Good day, 'Lijah. Hope you'll be lookin' bet- ter the next time I see you. Elijah — Thank you. Submit, I think I'm going to. (Exit Submit d. c.) Elijah — Lon Jefifers sick and poverty stricken. Poor Lon.. Never could seem to get on. Good fellow, too, and always was. But if the rest of the folks hereabouts are like Nat and Sarepty, the family won't suffer. I guess I'll go into the parlor and lop down on that sofa a few minutes. I declare, I feel ail tuckered out. Can't seem to stand nothin' any more. (Rises slowly and" exits r. u. e. with aid of cane.) (Enter Mel. Skinner, 1. u. e., dragging Eb. Gowdy.) Mel. — Now look a here, Eb., your name is Sime Flanders and' you've got a wife that is lazyer 'n sin. You've just got to git after her good and strong. She don't do nothin' all day long but read them paper-covered novels. Meals ain 't never ready, dishes^ ain't washed, fire's out, no wood in the house. Just tell her what's what. Go at it vigorows. Let her know who 's boss. Eb. — Me, Sime Flanders and got a wife? Why yes, that's^ 34 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS so. She ain't no good. 'Course she ain't. I'll make her come to time. Can't have no such goins on as that. Mel — (^ Aside). I've got him started on the right track. Now I'll call Hnldy and if this here thing works out as I cal 'late it -will, I'll soon have Sime Flanders cut out. (Goes to door and calls "Huldy.) , Huldy heard answering in the distance.) (Mel. goes T. 1st e.. out of sight of Huldy and prepares to listen, meanwhile Eh. is walking pomijously about stage.) (Enters Huldy d. c. As she enters Eb. says, talking to imagi- nary woman, without noticing Huldy.) Eb,— Yes. I'm Sime Flanders and you're Mrs. Sime Flanders, the laziest critter I ever laid eyes on. Where's your dinner? Ain't ready is it? Been settiu ' here all the mornin' readm ' paper-cov- ered novels. Dishes ain't washed, fire out, nothin' done. Spend- in' all your time with flum de dums and fol de rols. Why ain't you brought in the wood and water? You ain't fit to have a de- cent man. Y'ou bet if I was single again I wouldn't marry any womvu that walks. Git up there. Stir your stumps or I'll — • (makes dash at imaginary woman as Mel. rushes on stage and grabs him.) Mel — Hold on here, Eb. What you doin'? Eb, — Let go of me. I'm Sime Flanders and I'm tryin ' to teach that woman of mine to be of some account. Mel — Xo, Eb. you ain't Sime Flanders. Y'ou're Eb. Gowdy and you 're weedin ' onions. See, here 's the row (points to imagi- nary row of onions on floor of stage, gets down on hands and knees and goes through motion of weeding.) See, Eb., like this (weeds). Y^ou try it. Eb. — 'at. could I see you outside just a minute? Nat — I guess so but can't you say it right her^ • There's- plenty of room. Mel — Xo, it's a little private business with you. Elijah — J was just goin' out, anyway, so you arid Xat can have your talk right here. (Exit d. e.) Mel — Say, Xat., I'm kinder darn worried. Nat — Guess it's about the fust attack you ever had ain't it? Mel — Well I dunno but 'tis. And I don't like it. Nat — Prob 'ly not, but spoze you'd had it all your life as I have. Mel — 1 never could have stood it. Nat — Never can tell what you can stand 'til you have to. But what's on vour mind? Tell me 'bout it and if I can l-elp vou, I will. Mel — You know Miss Fitzgibbons. Nat — Our boarder? Guess I orter know her by this time. Mel — Well, her name ain 't Fitzgibbons at all. Nat — What's that? 'Tain't her name? What is her name, then f Mel — Mrs. Melancthon Satterlee. Nat — Eh? You and her been gittin' jnanicil? Mel — That's just it. W^eek before last, over t: Kacketts- town. Nat — Well I'll be tetotally jiggered. Mel — Say, Nat, do you know anything about her? Nat — Xot much. Mel — Has she got any money? Nat — Guess so. She pays her board prompt every week. Mel — I don't mean that. Has she got any proiDerty? Nat — Xot that I ever hearu tell of. Mel — Just w^hat I thought. I'm goin ' to have the law onto her fer obtain' a husband under false pretenses. Nat— How's that? Mel — Well, one day when I was here to see you I was comin^ into this room when I heard someone talkin'. It was her a talkin^ to herself. She was a sayin' how lonesome she was and how she Avished she had a husband to share her lot. I made up my mind then and there that I was the feller that would fill the bill and — well, to make a long story short, I married her as I :old you a minute ago. Nat — I don 't see any false pretenses so far. Mel — I'm comin' to that. For the last two or three days I've been kinder droppin ' remarks about buildings and taxes and real estate and one thing another, thinkin' p'raps she'd say suthin' ^bout that lot but never a word. Nat— Lot? What lot. Mel — Why that one she wanted to give a husband a share in. Nat — (Laugh) Well, by gum, if that ain't the best I ever heard. SACKETT'S COK^'ER FOLKS 43 Mel — I don't see nothiii ' to laugh at. Nat — No, course you don 't aud if your head hadu 't beeu thicker 'n a plank, you'd a knowed what she meant by sharin' her lot. She meant someone to share life 's burdens with her the t-ixme as me and Ma have shared 'em fer years. And say, Mel, I'm goin' to tell you right to your face that if either of you has been took in, I figger it's her. Mel — But I can't live with her. She don't know nothin' -bout cookin' or housekeepin '. I ast her and she told me so. Nat — No, she don't.becuz she never had no chance to learn, but even at that she's a duni sight too good fer you. Now I'll tell you suthin' 'bout her. Although she's kinder gush}' at times, she's one of the best hearted wimmen that ever wuz. She's been workin' and earnin' her livin' fer several years and p'raps she's got a lit- tle money saved up although I don't know nothin' 'bout it. If she can't cook and keep house, she can learn and if you know when you're well off, you'll fix that house of yours up in decent shape, treat her just the very best you know how and never let her know that the only reason you married her was because you thought she had money enough so you could hang 'round and do nothin'. Mel — You 're pretty rough on me, Nat, but, I declare, I believe 3'ou're right although I was awful disappointed. There's only two folks that knows about it, you and me, and I'll promise you I ain't goin' to tell. Nat — And I'll promise you the other one never '11 tell. Now go and find her and make your plans fer gittin' some of the happi- ness there is in life fer them that look for it. Mel — I'll do it, Nat, and thank you fer makin' me see things in the right light. (Exit Mel 1. u. e.) (Enter Eb. GoAvdy d. c.) Eb. — Full crop (Pats stomach) Nat, good Jersey milk, home made l.iead, um, um. Nat — Pull crop, eh ? No, Eb., only chickens have crops. Eb. — Crops, chickens? Oh, yes, chickens. (Imitates clucking of hen, crows like a rooster and flaps arms in imitation of move- ment of rooster's wings, also imitates hen scratching.) Nat — Say, Eb., while you've got chicken on the mind, you might go out and hunt the eggs and take 'em in to Huldy. Eb. — Eggs? Eggs? Oh, yes, eggs, barn, haymow, hen house, eggs, eggs. (Leaves stage r. u. e., clucking like a hen). (Enter Deacon Todd and Elijah d. c.) Deacon — Hello, Nat, I was just goin' by, saw Lije out in the yard and thought I'd stop in a minute. Nat — All right, deacon, glad you did. Shoe* string 's always hangin' out, as the feller says. What's the news down to the Corner? Deacon — Nothin' much. Yes there is, too. You know Lon Jefifers got a hundred dollars from a New York lawyer who said some other fellow had told him to send it. Nat — Yes, I heard you talkin' 'bout it down to the store. Deacon — Well, me and Jim Bentley thought if somebody had so much money to give away, we might as well have some of it so we got that lawyer's address and told him we could use a hun- dred apiece in our business. 44 SACKETT ^ CORNER FOLKS Nat' — Ain't got the hundred with you, have you? Deacon — No, I hain't, ner Jim hain't, nuther. We both got a letter sayin' that the lawyer's client hadn't instructed him to send us nothin' and that when he got them orders, the money would come along. Bildad was goin ' to write f er a hundred, too, but when he seen them letters, he changed his mind. There ain't none of us down to the store w^ho kin figger out who that client is. Nat — No one else hain't got no letters wuth money in 'em, has they? Deacon — Yes, they have. I was just goin ' to tell you 'bout that. You know they ain't only a handful of us in the church any more and it takes tall scratchin' to make ends meet. Owed the domonie $75 last year and $50 this year. Yesterday he got a check for the hull amount from that lawyer and the same kind of a letter come with it. Besides that, the letter said that later on this feller, whoever he is, is goin' to paint the church, buy a new organ, put down a new carjiet and do everything else we've all been wantin' to do for some time but ain't had the money. Nat — Wall, T swan. Deacon — And that ain't all. You know Clem Whittaker's horse died last month. Clem's poorer 'n a church mouse and didn't have no money to buy another horse to work his little place wuth he was a feelin' perty mauger. This mornin ' parson Bemiss got another letter from that lawyer feller with a check in it fer $75. The letter said to spend the money fer a horse fer Clem and to say a friend of his give it to him. Nat — Well, if that don't beat the Dutch. This here mystery grows deeper. But it's the kind of mysteries I like to hear 'bout, Elijah — Yes, it shows somebody knows what happiness money brings if rightfully used among those who deserve help. Deacon — That 's so but what we can 't figger out is how this here client knows about these things. He can 't be nobody around these parts becuz w^e 've all got as much as we can do to git money enough to take care of ourselves without havin' any to give away. But I must be joggin' back hum. Guess I'll stop at the post office on the way. P'raps I'll find that hundred waitin' fer me. (Exit Deacon 1. u, e.) (Enter Huldy d. c, with letter which she hands to Nat), Huldy — Just got that out of the box, I see there is a lawyer's name on the corner of the envelope. You hain't been gittin' into trouble have you? Nat — Well, it'll seem kinder natural if I have. I've never been out of it. Just h&nd me nn' specs, Huldy, and I'll see what be's got to say. (Huldy takes glasses from stand and hands them to Nat Avho opens letter and reads). Nat — Je-ru-^a-lem crickets! Say, Huldy, these here old spec3 must be playin ' me a trick. Huldy— What's the matter? Nat — Here, you read the letter out loud. I sure didn't read it straight. (Huldy takes the letter and reads:) Law Offices of J. B. Taylor, 89 Broadway, New York city. (Supply date.) Mr. Nathaniel Pettigrew, Sacketts Corner, N. Y. Dear Sir: In compliance with the direction of a client, whose SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 15 Eame.is withheM at his own request, I have this day placed on deposit to your credit in the bank at TIackettstownthe sum of $2000 and have ordered the bank bock forwarded to yonr adlress. Yours truly, J, 13. Taylor. Huldy— Well, of all things. Nat — That's just as I read it but there must be some mistake- 'bout it. Nobody would be a givin ' me $2000. Huldy, be you sure it's my name on the envelope? Huly — Yes, plain as day. Nat — Two thousand dollars. More money than I ever had at one time in my life. Now w^ho on earth — Elijah — This here thing is gittin' contagious ain't it? You. rrotice, though, that nobody is gittin' any money except them. that's worthy of it. (Enter Ralph, d. c, excited and with letter in hand. Mrs. P. follows). Ralph — Pinch me, father, quick. Nat— Pinch you! What fer? Ralph — 'Cause I w^ant to know whether I'm aw^ake or not. Nat — Say, Ralph, you ain 't goin ' to be another Eb. Gowdy,, are you? Ralph — I don 't know what I am. I know I can 't believe my eyes this mornin'. I just got this letter from a lawyer in New Y'ork, tellin ' me that someone he represents has told him to open a bank account for me over to Hackettstown, that $800 has been deposited and that I'm to use it to go to college and take that electrical course. Mrs. P. — Pa, did you ever see such goin 's on as they is here nowdays? Everybody gittin' money and nobody kuowin' who it 's from. Elijah — No. not everybody. You'll notice that only them that's worthy gits it. Ralph — I don't know whether I'm w^orthy or not but I do- know that I never was happier than I am at this minute. Pa, when can I start? Nat — Just as soon as you want to but you and your Ma just listen a minute if you can stand still as long as that. Y'ou ain't the only one what's been gittin' letters. Here's one I just got, tellin' me this same unknown feller has opened a bank account fer me by depositin' $2000. Mrs. P. and Ralph— What! Nat — Gospel truth. Mrs. P. — Two thousand dollars for you? Nat — That's just it. Ma. Mrs. P. — Well, I confess I'm clean beat. Nat — So be I, Ma, and I'm wonderin' whether I ought to take it or not. Huldy — Take it? Of course you'll take it. Nobody would give it to you if they didn't want you to have it. Elijah — Huldy 's right. I wouldn't hesitate a minute. Mrs. P. — Well, I declare, this has got me so completely upset that I've just got to go somewhere and think it over. Come on, Huldy, let's us go out into the kitchen and see if either of us can think who 'tis that's dealin' out happiness in this w^holesale fash- ion. 46 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS (Exit Mrs. P. and Huldy d. e.) Ralph — Pa, I cau't really believe this yet. I'm goiu' up to my room and write a letter to the bank and find out if the money's there. Nat — All right, and while you're about it, you might ask about that $2000 of mine. 1 ain't really convinced, nuther. (Exit Ralph 1. u. e.) Nat' — WhoeA'er 'tis that 's doin ' this has got my religion to a T. Sometimes I've set and dreamed what I'd do if I had plen- ty of money. I've thought over the different ones I know that's in hard lack. I've pictured what I'd do for 'em and how happy I'd make 'em if I had the means. As it is, I've done what good I could by givin' a load of wood here, a barrel of potatoes there, a ham and some spare-rib somewhere else and so on but it hain't been much, nothin ' but temporary helps. Elijah — Yes it has, too. It's been all you could afford and more and if you don't git your reward for it in the hereafter^ there ain't no truth in Holy Writ. (Enter 'Arathusa d. c.) Ara — Good morning, gentlemen. Elijah and Nat — Good morning. Arathusa. Ara — Mr. Pettigrew, I've come to have a little talk with you. I am in trouble and I feel that I must tell someone about it. Elijah — Then if you'll excuse me I'll — Ara — No, I'll tell you both for I want advice. Nat — AVhat is it, Miss Pitzgibbons? If Lije and me can do you a favor, you know all you 've got to do is to say the word. Ara — Thank you. I knew you would. First I want to tell you that I'm not Miss Fitzgibbons. I have been married nearly two weeks. Elijah— Married! Who to? Ara — To Mr. Satterlee. Elijah— What, Mel. Satterlee? Ara — Yes. Elijah — Well, all I've got to say is — No, I won't say it. Let's hear your story. Ara — Well, the story would be a long one but the sum and substance of it is that I fear he don't love me. Nat — Now, little one, you just put your mind at rest on that score. I've knowed Mel ever since he was knee high to a grass- hopper and although he 's more or less peculiar, he ain 't a bad feller at heart. The trouble is he ain 't never had no experience Mnth women folks and he don 't know how to treat 'em. You know it 's an old sayin ' that the way to a man 's heart is through his stomach. Now you jest let Ma and Huldy give you a few pointers in cookin '. go right home with Mel, keep him fed up well, overlook his shortcomin's and I'll guarantee there won't be a happier pair in Sackett 's Corner. Ara^ — Do vou believe it, Mr. Pettigrew. do vou reallv believe it? Nat— Pelieve it? I know it. Ara — Thank you so much. You can't imagine what a load you 've taken off my mind. Nat — It'll turn out jest as I say; I'll guarantee it. SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 47 Ara — If Mrs. Pettigrew is in the kitchen, I'm going to take my first les;on in cooking right away. (Exit Ara d, c.) Elijali — Didn't talce much to make her happy, did it? Nat — But I shouldn 't have been so sure of Mel if he hadn 't come to me to talk about sueing her for gittin' a husband under false pretenses. He married her because he thought she had money and now he finds out she hain't. She's a good little woman, though. I told him so; bore down hard on him and finally got him thinkin ' right and when he went away he promised to treat her as he ought tv. Elijah — Do you suppose he'll do it? Nat — Yes, I do. (Enter Sime 1. u. e., followed by Mrs. P.) Sime — Say, Nat, more thingc have been happenin '. Nat — AY hat now? Sime — This mornin' a stranger drove up to Hank Gowdy 's witli ;i Harkettstown livery rig. Went in and had a long talk with Hank. Hank told him all about Eb., how he had typhoid fever years ago and hadn't been right in his head since. By and by they called in Eb. and the stranger listened while Hank and Eb. talked. Then the stranger, who turned out to be a doctor from New York, got Eb. to set down and begun feelin' of his head. Perty soon he ast Hank if Eb. had even been hurt, had a bad fall or anything of the sort. First Hank said no and then he happened to think that a few weeks before Eb, was took down v.-ith the fever he fell from a haymow, struck on his head and was picked up insensible. The doctor then said that he thought the fall and noi the fever was what was the matter with Eb. and that he would like to operate on hirh. Hank talked it over with his wife and they finally agreed to it. Old Dr. Johnson of the Corner was called in to help. They give Eb. some chloroform or suthin ' and the New Y^ork doctor cut a hole in Eb 's head and took out a little bone that had been pressin ' on Eb 's brain all these years. It seems tbat Eb 's skull was splintered by that fall. Eb. was nnst comin' to as I came by Hank's and the doctor says he'll |:uarautot Eb. will be as bright as anybody from now on. Nat — Well I'll be jiggered. But how did this doctor happen to come here? Sime — I was a comin' to that. When he asked Hank if he could operate, Hank said he hadn't got no money to pay for it although be 'd like to have it done and the doctor said it wouldn't cost him liothin' because he had been sent to the Corner by a friend of Eb 's who didn't want his name mentioned. Nat — That unknown friend again. Will wonders never cease. I declare, I'd give my best heifer to know who 'tis that's doin' all this good 'round here. Mrs. P. — Yes, Pa, and I'd throw in my best reseet for ginger- bread for good measure, Sime — I hain't got no heifer ner.no resects but I'd jest give a month 's wages to know. Elijah — Better not get reckless, Sime, you'll need all your monev when vou and Huldy set up housekeepin '. Sime— Eli? What? Who told you 'bout it? Elijah — About what? Sime — Whv about — that is — 48 SACKETT'S CORNER FOLKS Mrs. P. — Sime, have you finally got her? Nat — Kinder let the cat out the bag that time, dLda't you. Never mind, me and Lije knew all about it. Eb. told us. Sime^Eb? What did he know about it? Nat — He seemed to know all about it. He heard -nya and Huldy settle it right here in this room. As usual, he Drobably blundered it at the wrong time. Mrs. P. — I've jest got to call Huldy and see what she's got to say fer herself. (Goes d. c. and calls Huldy). (Enter Huldy d. e.) Mrs. P. — Huldy, we wanted you to come in and receive our congratulations. Huldy — Congratulations? On what? Nat — Come now, Huldy, you needn't make strange of it. We've found out that you jest couldn't stand Sime's pestfcia' any longer and that you're the future Mrs. Flanders. Huldy — I don't know how you found it out but I doLi't 'spose there's any use denyin' it. Elijah — Not a bit, Huldy, and we 're all glad to hear i:, Huldy — You always said, Nat Pettigrew, that a woman couldn't keep a secret but you can't say I didn't keep tbat one. Nat — Yes, you did, Huldy, but ill bet 'twas miaj^,y hard work. (Enter Ralph d. c.) Balph — More things happenin '. A doctor has just cue a hole in Eb. Gowdy's head, took out a piece of bone and says Eb. '11 be as good as new. Nat — Yes, Ralph, Sime was just tellin' us about it. Ralph — Never saw such a time as there is down to :he Cor- ner, Everybody's talkin' about the unknown friend ths.^ s help- in' folks 'round here and yet don't want folks to know i^iio 'tis» Bildad Teeter says he hain't done as much business :i years. Every day at mail time the store is filled with people. Ilaey all buy a little suthiu' as an excuse fer bein' there but Biiiad says that don't fool him any. Every one of 'em is hopin' they'll, git one of these letters with money in 'em. Elijah — Now that the family is all here — yes, Sime; rhat in- cludes you because if you ain't in yet, you are perty near — the time has come to make a confession. I can tell you who tis that is contributing to the assistance of some of the needy and deserv- in' people in Saekett's Corner. Mrs. P. — You know, Elijah, and have kept us in susriense all this time? Elijah — Yes, I know. Huldy — Well, for the land sake, tell us quick. Elijah — I am the man. All— You! Elijah — Yes, Elijah Pettigrew. Sime — 'Well, if that don't beat anything I ever heaia tell ef. Nat — Your money, Lije? I can't understand it. Y"oii said in your letter that — Elijah — Excuse me, Nat, but I know what you're goia. ' to say and I didn 't say any such thing. Mrs. P. — You didn't say you was sick and didn': nave no money? SACJKETT'S CORNER FOLKS 49 Elijah — No, 1 didn't. You took that for granted and that'j just what I wanted you to do. In anticipation of this day, L made a copy of that letter and have carried it with me ever since. (Takes letter from inside pocket of vest.) Here is what I said: ( tieads) "in a strange land 1 am broken in health and spirit. Sur- rounded by people who care nothing tor me and have no interest in me, I feel myself an outcast, 'io know what I have endured for years might soften your heart toward me. Whatever amends lie in my power, 1 will make although I know it is impossible to rignt all those wrongs." (To Nat) That ain't all of the letter bur it's the part you had in mind, ain't itf Nat — Yes, I guess it is. Elijah — Does it say anything about my being penniless Nat — No, it don't but that's the way mother and me took it when we read it. Elijah — Well, 1 aiu 't as rich as 1 might be but 1 can draw mv checK for $100,000. Mrs. P. — A hundred thousand dollars! Why that's more money tlian there is in the hull of Sackett 's Corner. Elijah — Yes, I presume it is but I got it honestly, every cent. Huldy — 1 don't want to be too inquisitive but I'm most dym ' to know how you made it. Elijah — No secret about it at all, A lucky streak in minin' fer silver in Mexico, after a dozen failures, is the way 1 got it. Sold a part interest in the mine and own the balance yet. Sime — Got it out of a mine, eh? Say, Ralph, less you 'n me take out picks, go out into the hill pasture, turn things bottom side up and see if we can find some pay dirt. Elijah — No need of that,, Sime. From now on this money is goin ' to be used to bring happiness to this family and to help those of our neighbors who can t help themselves. About the firsi thing we 're goin ' to do is to fix the old house over, build a new barn and put everything in ship shape. The old farm's goin' to be cultivated as usual because Nat wouldn 't know how to act without suthin' to do. He's got to have a superintendent and you'll jest fill the bill. Down in the orchard I'm goin' to build a house fer you and Huldy, if Nat '11 give you a buildin ' lot, and I know he will. Sarepty is goin' to be relieved of the drudgery of housework, l^.alph is goin' to have all the education he wants and durin' the rest of our days we're goin' to live in peace and plenty. What do you say, Nat? Nat — I don't know what to say, Lije. It seems so like a dream that it makes me feel like askin ' your forgiveness fer ever havin' laid anything up agin' you. Elijah — You ain't goin' to do nothin ' of the sort. There ain't a man but would a felt hard towards me fer what I done and there ain 't one out of a thousand that would a told me to come when I An-ote that letter, askin' if I could come back. I would have come anyway and tried to gain your forgiveness when I got here but you don't know how much better it made me feel to know before I staited that I was forgiven and that I would be welcome. Mrs. P. — Elijah, you've made up a thousand times over for whatever vou 've done to us. 50 SACKETT'S COENER FOLKS Elijah— I'm glad to hear you say that, Sarepty, but I can't feel that the debt is paid and it won't be so long as I can do any- thing for you and Nat and for the others of the deserving among Sackett's Corner folks. CURTAIX. NOTE— ERROR ON PAGE 15. On page 15 an error was made in Deacon Todd's first speech when mak- ing up the forms of this book. The line now reads: "If he does, he is a bigger fool than I ever took him to be. ' ' This line appears correctly two speeches below. The first line of Dea- con's first speech on this page should read: "Beats all, don't it, how these here fellers what skip" etc. After you have presented ''Sackett's Corner Folks/' don't fail to play 99 "IN OLD NEW ENGLAND By the same Author CAST OF CHARACTERS. ^edediah Perkins, owner of "Old Homestead Farm," and every inch a man. Tom Perkins, .Jed's son, the victim of circumstantial evidence.. David Angell, .Jed's cheming and unscrupulous neighbor. Lem Haskins, the hired man, whose courage fails at the critical moment. Hezekiah Slocum, with a penchant for conundrums and borrowing. Robert Donald, a geologist, one of Jed's city boarders. Algernon Percival Mcntgomery, a city boarder, who will know bet- ter next time. George Washington Lincoln Jackson, an "ordinary nigger" who "just hangs 'round." (Cast continued on next page.) Mrs. Perkins, Jed's wife, a woman of the right sort. Araminta Perkins, .led's sister, whose tongue is not paralyzed. Glady Angell, daughter of David Angell, whose i^aith sustains Tom. Minervy Ann Johnson, the kitchen "ludp"' uho objocrs to or- ing ))orrowod. SYNOPSIS. ACT J. Kitchen at "Old Homestead Farm.'" — The trials of Nervy Ann. — Angell seeks Jed. — Old Dominique saves her head. — Jeds garden experience. — Angell 's proposition. — The interrupted nap. — The inventor of snores. — Wash's mule. — "Took the elevator over the fence." — " i 's proprietor o' dat mule." — The "brand new'' eggs. — The loyal son. — Tom accused by Angell. — Jed's plain talK. — Tom proclaims Ins innocence. — "David Angell, 1 believe the boy. ' ' ALT 11. KSitting room. — Lem tells of Jed s absent-mindedness. — Lem and Hezekiah. — The conundrum. — The telephone. — "Sun dries the traces.'' — j-ue "human torpeder. " — Tom decides to leave. — Parting of Tom and Gladys. — Faith in Tom. — The mort- gaged farm. — Angell renews his proposition. — The mule in the gar- den again. — Angell's plans. — Wash an eavesdropper. — Wash and Hezikiah and a conundrum. — Hezekiah tells of a big wind. — How the church was moved. — Mrs. Perkins plans to raise money. — The advertisement. — "jNo mosquitoes or ghosts.'' — Mrs. Perkins tele [iliones to Araminta. — Call "central." ACT III. — Sitting room. — The arrival of 'Minty. — Wash and the parrot. — "You is nigger, hain't yoa?" — The city boarders.— The tame elephant. — Hezekiah 's story.— " The elevator '11 go down 'stid o' up when you die." — Lem 's courage fails. — 'Minty and Gladys. — "There she goes with her dander up." — Wash tells a secret. — The cure for indigestion. — The interrupted proposal. — Donald's discover}'. — "Secrets break out on me like measles and chicken pox," — Departure of Donald. — A stormy interview. — "I don't believe them bonds was ever stolen." — There's the door.'" — "1 guess dat '11 hold him fer a spell." ACT IV. Parlor.— " Wuz his board all paid?' '—The little cows that give the condensed milk. — Jed's discouragement. — "Seems like bad luck meets us at every turn." — Mrs. Perkins' optimism. — Algy and the ' ' kitten. ' ' — Keturn of Donald. — Good news. — ' ' T believe his innocence can be proved before the sun sets." — Donald accuses Angell. — The find. — "I've played my cards and lost." — The mule saves the farm. — Return of Tom. — The stain removed. — Tom and Gladys. — Angell asks forgiveness. — The future Mrs. Laskiiis. — Wasli comes to confess, — "Hookin' up in double har lAR 3 1911 r.ess." — "Goin' to live "til he gits tired o' seeiii ' hisself hangin ' round." — "I'll lend ye anything on the place 'ceptin ' mother." — ''The credit is not all mine. Fully as much belongs to the mule." PRICE 25 CENTS PER COPY SEND ORDERS TO J. WALLACE DARROW, CHATHAM, N. Y. GRANGE RECITATIONS The above is the title of a o2-page booklet of readings in prose and poetry suitable for use in granges or other societies where literary programs are employed. It contains, also, ono "Parlor Play" requiring several characters; also several Juvenile selections the chief of which is " A Convention of Forest Trees" in which the trees are personified by children. We give below a few of the titles of the Selections in this booklet. Prose Selections: Old Daddy Turner. 'Schneider's Tomatoes. That Hired Girl. The Preacher and Our Folks. Poetical Selections: The Story of a Storm. The Fitful Fever. He Left Home. Autumn Days. The Builder. Js Little Bob Tucked Tn ? Government Seeds. The Man With The Hoe. The Home Days. Sister Simmons. The Boy With The Hoe. "Too Tarnation Neat." Ma Can 't Vote. The Sentry's Song. Give Thanks for What? The Harvest. The Hen 's Soliloquy. The Volunteer Organist. The Farm Mortgage. In Ai)ple Time. The Blessing of the Bells. Parson and Pauper. The Knight of the Milking Pail Two Little Boots. The Little Feller. Hanging the -stockings. .iii\enile Selections: A c^'onvention of Forest Trees. When Mother Carves the Duck. Toys That Grandfather Made. .les' Plain Torpedoes. That Brother of Mine. My Pa and J. Does Ma Wish She AVas Pa? The Old Black Crow. John Gilpin 's Auto Ride. The Veteran 's Dream. The New Engineer. The price of the book is 25 cents, and may be procured of the publisher, J. W. Darrow, Chatham, N. Y., editor of the Gran je Peview. One copy del. to Cat. Div. iAU .^ '^^H LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 018 602 846 6 #