ml UBRARY OF CONGRESS D D D D E T fc. H ■=] 4 b • » ' ^V» "^ • • • • ■ V TVT» A •jJ?S\\vfc*^ O iP-n*. ^^^"^^ '-.X .A;;^*./^. ..y.^:4*i:.X -''^•^--"^ 'V.^'^" /J^l^\ "^^.^^^ :'^^j^\ V.<^' '*«Si^'- '^- -^^^ **^ X-^* ^0^ 6°^ "-.>9^^ '\'^'*/ *<>,-^\/ %,^^*'%P^ \'^^\/ ^o. 3.0 '^r.C,^ <.^ V^^^y *-:,.** .•i$i&-. \,/ .•^'- %/ .•^•. x/ .'i; i^^% •.^•- vi?^\ 'Sk-- **'% f ., r, *j.o« :' .>*..•-•..'% 1-^ 2'^^ i»*f»'^ o^ i •w's ^V^W'^i^ -'>^.'^¥U¥WUiyU''5!lL lyw'j, ^ u: ' . i'U ; V Wi »,^vvvwy^!f ,Qw^g^^ -^gSy^^OuuoO^^ VW^v/w/w. (!^^i^l^-; WWW(. =.,,^i:::v; v'QO'^'tl^ 'Vj^^V\^^W'.. v,..:'O0g^^ 'li' mm Tiv/BBHjnta 'c:3,;^^-K ^;t;,-v A LEGEND 6^ N O R^WO OD;" OB, VILLAGE LIFE IN NEW ENGLAND. AN ORIGINAL DKAMATIC COMEDY OF AMERICAN LIFE, IN FOUK ACTS. POtTNDED ON A NOVEL BY REV. HENRY WARD BEECHER. BY AUGUSTIN DALY, XDTHOR OF " LEAH THE F0K8AKEN," " GRIFFITH GADNT," " TAMING A BCTTEKFLY," " UNDEK THE GASLIGHT," ETC. __^___ t IJBHARY OF COiXGRKSS. # # * ^UNITED STATES OF AMKUICA.} PRINTED FOR THE AOTHOR. 18 6 7. Entered according to Act of Congress m the year 1867, by A U G U S T I N 1> A L Y , lu the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. i^] isi o R^w^o o r>. DRAMATIS PKRSONJE. Bahton Cathcaut— a son of New England. Doctor Wuntwortii — Tlie first gentleman in Norwood. DKAfoN Marble— Who can be good an'l merry too. Hiram Hrhrs -The Norwood teamster and village oracle.. Tommy Tait — An old salt who never laid up ior repairs. Tom IIkywood— The Southerner who was liked in Norwood. Frank Esici. — The Boston artist who turned his brush into a sword. Mr. Turfmocld — The first-olass Undertaker of Norwood. Judge Bacon — Who hoped the North wouldn't go too far. The Boy prom Haudscrabble — A case. Pete Sawmill — The gentlest heart and the most useless darkey that ever lived. LiECTENANT BANKS — At Fort Sumter. O'Mdllioan — The sukstitute for one of the richest men, sir, up North. Wir.LiE — A little drummer boy. CnERHB. Rose Wextwohth — The Rose of Norwood. Alice Cathcart — The divided heart Aoate Bi.s.sell— The best Old Maid in New England. Polly Marble — The Deacon's wife. Mother Taft- The first person the Norwood babies see. Mother Hlakely — Who sent Cephas to the war with his trunk. Children in Norwood who loved Tommy Taft. Neighbors at Home in Norwood. Soldiers recruited in the village for the war. Soldiers at Gettysburg. The Band of the .-^now Hill Company. Officers, sentinels, teamsters, wounded soldier.^, hos- pital nurses, &e., &c. :a: THE SCENES. ACT I. — Love that loa.t not spoken. Scene 1. Home in Norwood. Who loves, wlio is loved, and who does not love. The Grammar of Affection. How to decline. No way to Conjugate. Tableau — The Nutting Party. ACT II. — The First Bonm of the Gun. SiKNE I. A lover returns, and hopeless. 'Tableau— The President's Proclamation. Scene 2. Drumming up Recruits, The Quota from Hardscrabble. Scene 3. The first men for the field. An adieu to the soldier lover. Tabl/wu — Departure of the Volunteers. ACT III.— 7'/)c Anf/rl of thr- Jinttln Field Scene 1. What was done the night after Gettysburg. Things that were told us of the war. The love that was spoken at last. Tableau— l>\eA on the Field of Battle. ACT IV Home. Scene 1. Wliat comes at last for the hopeful, the loving and the brave. A Wedding in Norwo id. Tableau — The Return of the Ver- erans. ISJ^ O JRA^TO O D. ACT I. SCENE I. — Thegrounda in front of, and about Dr. Wextworth's house. A brook rippling besdde a cliednut tree on the l. Pathway leading from l. u. e. A rustic bridge crosses the brook from L 1 E. to c. of stage, where it meets a pathway leading up to the gateviay of the house on an eminence r. 4 e. The road from the woods comes in at r. 1 e. An unfinished paling partly surrounds the tree on l. Rustic seat by tree r. 1 e. Mound by the chestnut c. At the rise of the curtain, to the music of birds, a number of children are discovered at pilay. One, lying on the bridge, is dabbling in the water. Cherub, (a black child), and a white child, are bringing one of the wooden rails down the pathway to throw into the water. Two other youngsters are leaning against the gateway at R. u. e., one carrying a broken hooij, and aghast at the temerity of the two former. Tommy Taft, u}ith a rail and hammer in hand, enters from L. u. K. He has a wooden leg. Taft. Hallo! hallo! I say! you little rascals, bring that back. Cherub. We was going to play boat, Tommy. Taft. Make a boat, eh ? ( Takes the rail from them). I'll see about that. {Kisses the other child, then goes up and commences to nail the fence). This here's for your benefit, my cherubs. Keep you from wishin' for nuts as long as you can't get 'em. Keep you from eatin' 'em and makin' yourselves sick. But I'll make it up to you some other way — -such as ships, sleds, wagons. All the Children. Will you, Tommy ? {All gather round him). Taft. Of course I will. What's an old sailor good for but to know all the odds and ends, and crinkums-crankums for young folks. {Ham- mering). Ah! the only jolly people in this world is young folks that NORWOOD. 7 ain't good for nothing yet, and old folks that's past doin' much. What you got tliere ? {Stops, looking at youngster irith the broken hoo]}). Give it to me, lad. (Tcikeg it). Je.st let Tommy get at this here. Aha! (Giving it a twist and a blotv ivith his hammer). There you are. Give it a little medicine and it's well directly. (Pete is heard laughing without). Children. There's Pete! Taft. So it is! That's Pete; doin' his best to do nothin', as usual. Pete. (Outside). Yo! yo! dat's the way! (Comes prancing in r. 1 e. with a little girl on his shoulders). Now den, horsey stops right afore de garden gate. Girl. Pete, that was such a nice ride. Childrex. (Running down to him). Ride me, Pete! Ride me. Pete. Sho! (Fulting girl down). Horsey tired inos' to deflf. Gib horsey a chance. Go 'long wid ycrs. ( Children all run off' r. 1 E. laughing). Sho! sho! (Turns to Taft). Yah! dat you, Mas'r Taft ? Taft. What are you doin' down here, Pete? (Working). Pete. Ah! business, Mas'r Taft. Taft. (Turning to him). Business! Why, you're the most useless piece of timber about the village. Pete. Dat depends; — now when dere's fishiu' to be done — or shoot- in' — or trappin' birds — Taft. You don't call that business ? Pete. Well, its serious 'nufl' matter for de fishes and do birds But Pse got to get do traps ready for de nuttin' party to-night. Taft. I say, Pete, you used to teach Rose how to fish, didn't you ? Pete. Dat I did. And do romps we used to hab, down to de ribber, wid Rex barkin' along by us all de way. You mind ole Rex, don' you, Mas'r Taft? Dead and gone, ole Rex. He was a black ole dog, but he was as good as de nex' white dog you ebcr see. Outside dere was a difference ob color, but inside — same dog. ■ Taft. You and your romps didn't do much good somewhere. It made some one a bit unsteady ; one pretty little vessel that I know — clean rigged — sharp prowed — but hard to manage. Pete. Who's dat ? Taft. Why, Miss Rose. She'll turn to every point of the compass in a minute. Now, she points — look 'ye, Pete — due South ; you un- derstand ? Pete. Mas'r Heywood ? Yah 1 yah ! Taft. And then she heads for Boston ; but seldom bears down for home — moaning to be understood by home, Barton Cathcart. Pve kept the log of her, and I know. They was growed together — she and Bar- ton — and he's got the best right to her. Suppose she is rich and he's got his fortin' yet to make — what of it ? Didn't he go to college, and get lamed just for her sake? Didn't he turn teacher, and spoil the best ball-phiyor in the village for her sake ? And where's his thanks ? ( Waxing wroth, and taking up nails and hammer). First, there comes Mr. Esel from Boston, (Drices in nail, viciously), that's one! And then comes Mr. Heywood from the South, (Same play), that's two! Pete. Yah! yah! An' dey cut him out; dey whittled him out. Taft. Out him out! Whittled him out! There's many a thing whittled in New England, but there's one thing you can't whittle there — the Yankees themselves. (Agate appears at house gate, r. u. e). N BWO D . » Agate. Pete Sawmill! Pete. Dat's me. Agate. The Doctor wants you. Pete. I'm comin'. [Hxits, r. v. e.] Agate. {Standing in galeviay) . 'Most finished the fence, Tommy? Taft. Yes'm. ~" Agate. There's the churn wants fixin'. Taft. Then the churn '11 have to wait — I don't do no more work to- day, no more nor it was Sabberday. Agate. Thomas, You don't speak much like a Christian. Taft. I know it, I'm in a bad way. That's what you and the par- son say, and I haint got no excuse. I'm puttin' off the day of re- pentance. Agate. Thomas, I — Taft. You're alarmed at my case ; I know it. Its an alarmin' case. Its been alarmin' me for more'n forty years — but I don't do no more work to-day. Agate. That's the way you always speak to the parson. You'll never change, Thomas. \_Exit.'] Taft. {Giving a silent chuckle). Jest so! But its good for me. It makes 'em continually pray for me. I'm the best prayed for man in this here village. (Barton enters r. 1 e., with game bag slung, and gun). Barton. Well, Tommy, something pleases you, you are laughing. Taft. Hallo! my boy! Ha! hal I'm mortal glad you bore down this way. I wanted to speak to you, bad ; and I was just a consid- erin' which tack to keep to get in your course. [Putting his hammer and things up). Bar. Why, old friend, what is it now ? Taft. I've a question or two to ax you. [Putting on his coat). Barton, I've knowed you pretty much since you was born, and you won't think the old man sassy. [Coat only half on). Bar. ( Clasping Tiis hand). Why, of course not. Taft. I thought not. (Barton lays his gun against free e.) Are you a-goin' in — there ? [Points ivith thumb over shoulder and nods). Eh? Bar. To Dr. Wentworth's ? , Taft. To Rose Wentworth's. Bar. I said Doctor, Tom. Taft. And bein' an obstinate old salt, I said Rose. Bar. Well, yes, I am. Taft. Exactly — VVell, she ain't to hum. (Barton looks at him inquiringly). She's out walkin' with '■ — By the way. Barton, what do you think of the Boston chap ? Bar. Esel ? Rose's cousin ? An excellent fellow, Taft. I thought you thought so. And the other — the Southern chap that's come to live at Chandler's ? Bar. Why, he's a perfect gentleman ; I like him very much. Taft. Well, I s'posed so by the way you and he went round together. They say he's goin' to get Chandler's money. Bar. Well, I hope so, Tom. Money is useful in its way. But it takes more than that to make a man, Taft. Sartain. But some folks think they ought to have the best of everything because they've got money. Now he goes to the Wentworth's pretty often ; I don't think he goes there to get pills 2 'NORWOOD. H from the Doctor. If he does go there because lie's sick, its the sort o' sickness that pills won't cure. Bar. {Silent a moment). Well? {Turning aside). Taft. It's my opinion, now. Miss Rose knows who she likes. Bar. I suppose she does ; mo.st rational people do. Taft. If she ain't best pleased with Heywood of any fellow that's come along, then all signs fail, that's all. Bar. Well, Tom, I presume it's her own business. If she's suited I suppose we ought to be. Taft. {Straightening up, and touching Barton on the breast with his outstretched hand). Barton, my boy, I've knowed you ever since you was so high. I've took to you naterally, and I've been prouder of you than of anything on ship or shore, and if I could see you married to Rose Wentworth, I wouldn't care a shingle if I didn't live an hour afterwards. It ain't no use, my boy, for you an' me to be a coverin' up things. I tell you, you keep too shet up ; there's a heap o' things in you, that you'd do better to git out. What sort of a room is it where the fire haint got no chimney ? Bar. You forgot, Tom, I'm not her equal. She is rich — and I, — what am I ? A man who has to begin the struggle for wealth and station, and knows not that he will succeed in gaining either. Taft. That don't prevent you from telling her that you love her. A man don't need to fill his pocket before he opens his heart. Bar. No, Torn, I won't have people say of me what they say of every poor young man that courts a rich girl. What have I — nothing but an education, which has taught me how much she is above my reach. Taft. And you are willing to see another man carry her ofi' before your eyes ? Bar. Heaven forbid ! Taft. Well, and yet you see this fellow a actin' curious, and you don't look into it. Bar. {Laying his gun aside). Well, uncle Tommy, and if you were in my place, what would you do ? Taft. Go right to the feller and ask him plump what he's arter. If he's just foolin' round for the fun of it — why, he's got to understand there's other folks in the world besides him. If he's in airnest — why, she's got to choose between you, that's all. Bar. Tom, I'll do it. I've lost too much time already. Taft. That's it, you're in the right course now. {Meditatively). It's surprisin' how we take advice that travels in the same way we do. ( To Bar) . And now don't say any more about that other idea of your'n. Bar. What other ? Taft. About goin' out West. Bar. Well, I won't. Taft. Out West is the place for disappinted critters, not for men of mettle. And yet it does surprise me how they make such good whiskey out there ; I guess they took to it jest to keep their spirits up. {3Iusic. Taft goes up l., passing Alice, who enters there). Alice. Good afternoon, 'Tomn'. Taft. Same, Miss Alice! (Alice comes down). Lord love herl she's jest as bad off in her heart, poor thing, as Barton. {Exit L. U. E.) Alice. Why, Barton ; back so soon. We all thought you'd stay 'till night. NORWOOD. 13 Bar. {Taking up his gun). I was alone, and I became tired. Where have you been, sister ? Alice. Walking- — with Rose. Bab. {Taking her hand). And whom beside ? Alice, ^[r. Esel. Bar. And Mr. Heywood, of course. Alice. " And Mr. Heywood, of course." Why do you speak so crossly when you mention his name 1 Bar. Alice, tell me, do you think there is anything serious in the feeling- that Heywood has excited. {She Marts and turns away from him). For I know he has excited a certain feeling- in a certain breast. {She places her hands crossed over her bosom, as if in pain). Do you think there is any love for him ? Alice. I' don't — I — how should I know. {Running towards him). Oh, Barton, what do you mean ? Bar. He is the sort of man to please any girl, isn't he ? Alice. {Faintly). Yes. Bar. It may be that he is in earnest ; I'll speak to him about it. Alice. {Taking both his hands, and gazing i7ito his face.) No, Barton, not for worlds; such a thing would be monstrous. Bar. You think then Alice. Let love speak in its own time; it will always find a tongue. {Goes up into house, b. u. e.) Bar. She is right. What should I say to him, even if I did speak 1 " Do you love Miss Wentworth ?" and be would ask me on whose authority I spoke. Am I Rose's accepted suitor ? If not, on what ground do I interfere ? And what would Rose say if she heard of my act 1 I could never look her in the face again. What then ? It is Rose or no one for me. Should heaven please I shall have a com- pleted life {Music) ; if not, I will not be the first man who limped through the world, striving to do his duty. But I will be true to that duty whatever comes. {Exit b. 1 e.) ( Wait till music is done. Noise of wagon heard.) Habdscrabble BoY. {Outside L.XJ.-E.). Whoa ! Git up I Whoa I back up I Whoa I Polly Marble. {Entering h. v. e.). Massy on us, boy, you came nigh about turnin' us into the ditoh. Boy. {Outside). Whoa! Git I There you are. Alice. [Entering from house) . Why, Aunt Polly, and the Deacon I (Polly and Alice embrace, enter Deacon Marble l. u. k.) Deacon. Such a time as we have had getting here. That boy 1 Alice. He looks like one of the Hardscrabble boys. Deacon. And he is one. We couldn't see Hieam and his team, so we had to hire this young urchin to get here before dark. Polly. And he drove on the very edge of the ditches. ( Calling out severely). Boy 1 Boy. {Outside). Ya-a-s I Polly. Yes ! — That's Hardscrabble manners. Bring that box. Do you hear ? Boy. {Entering unth band-box l. u. e.). Do I hear 1 Wa-a-1 I reckon I'd be almighty deaf if I didn't. Now then, old woman, here you are. {Hands band-box). Polly. Did you ever hear such a young earpent ? Boy. Look a here. Deacon, you've had time to catch your breath, I reckon — pay up. NORWOOD. 15 Deacon. Ha I ha ! ha ! {Takes out old wallet) . Let'6 see, ten cents was the bargain, wasn't it ? Boy. Yeh I Ten cents a piece ; you don't count the old woman nothin', don't you '{ Full him up for that. Miss Marble. Polly. ( To Alice). Oh ! — It was the Deacon's fault. He would ride with that boy because he was a character. I do believe he'd rather spend his time with shiftless reprobates like him and Hiram Beers, than with the Lord's own saints. Deacon. {Wiping hia head ivith handkerchief). Well, there's sar- tainly a pick amongst saints, Polly. But these poor creeters don't mean any harm, half the time, and everybody's pickin' at 'em, and nobody's tryin' to discover their good side. Boy. ( Who keejjs liii hands conManlhj in his pockets, carri/iny un immense whip under his arm). I say, ole hoss, if you don't ]>ay pretty quick PU bring in a bill for interest on that twenty cents. I'm losin' the use of that there money every minute you're a jawin' there. Come now. Polly. Well, such imperdence ! Deacon. There, my little man, twenty cents. {Hiram Beers ap- pears at fence, on stile L. u. e.) Doctor at home, Alice ; are we in time ? Alice. Oh yes ; the nutting party won't set out fur an hour yet {All going into house). Hiram. I say, Deacon ! ( The boy goes on examining his money). Deacon. Hallo, Hiram ! that you ? Hiram. I see a movin' pictur' o' starvation in the likeness of a horse, staudiu' by the gate, and an old hen-coop on wheels behind him. Did you come in that there team ? Deacon. Yes. My horse was laid up. Had to get that on the road from Hardscrabblo. Hiram. Do tell ! Wa-a-1 now, I tiiought there was the Hard- scrabble air about it. Boy. ( Who has listened sharply, but without turning to look at Hiram or the Deacon). Sa-a-y Deacon I Deacon. Well ? Boy. I smell a kind o' suthin' round here, like a whiskey jug left uncorked in a damp cellar over night. do you know it ? 'Taint what we call the Hiram Beers cologne watei', is it ? {Flicking his whip). Deacon. Fight it out between you ; I don't mind. (Polly and Alice go into house, Deacon is about to follow). Hiram. I say. Deacon I Deacon. Well '! Hiram. They say them Hardscrabblo fellars is just like stones ; got no more innards into 'em than a crowbar. Deacon. Oh, nonsense! {Goes into liouse, u. v. e.) Hiram. {Coming down to boy). Say, I've heard tell as how you folks down at Hardscrabblo work all day and all night, and keep workin', and never seem to get tired, 'cept on Sundays, when nobody won't hire you to do nuthin'. Boy. Jest sol (Takes out stick and knfe to whittle ; lohip under his arm). Hiram. {Trying to be cool, but provoked at the boy's coolness). Now, look you here. You've no right to take up our folks in your team. N RWO OD. 17 Keep to Hardscrabblo and scrabble it out aninnf? you, but don't yer come down here pickin' up loose change. D'ye hear ? Boy. {Ferching onfence at hack r , and still vchiltling). Hiram, if you ever come to Haidscrabble, don't talk much. Hiram. Want to know, now. "Why not I ..y Boy. Because if yuu opened that there mouth of youHn'T they'd sluit it up under the act for the effectual clo.sing of rum holes. Hiram. B;ili! {Coming down and about tu cross bridge). Darn mo, if there ain't Miss Rose. [Stands asid" in admiration. Ma>-ic. {Enter Kose and Esel together, r. 1 e., Reywood following leisurely icith hfV parasol). KosE. You'd better burn your brushes. Cousin Frank. Esel. And why ? 1\ose. Sit dowuliere, and I'll tell you why. Esel. I suppose I had better. I've known you three years, Rose, and in that time you've made mc do and say only as you thoug-ht. Rose. Well, I declare, that's warm for a cousin. Sit down, sir! ( They sit by tree k. 1 e. Hey wood saunters in with parasol, over bridge. Sunset glow over scene). Heywood. Do you not need this ? [Offering paraEol. Rose. No, save your own complexion. Hey. What from ? The sunset. Why, Mr. Beers, you're just tho man I wanted to see. Hiram. My name'.s Hiram on week days, Mr. Heywood ; I keeps Beers lor tSuiulay when I gets my Sunday clothes on. What was you a sayin', sir '( Hey. Can you tell me where I can look for a good horse ? Hiram Wal, now, Bledsoe's got about the best steppin' creature I knows of. Can do it in about 2 : 30. Sound as a knot. Silk feels coarse when you take your hand oif her hide Hey. What does he ask for her ? Hiram. Wa-a-1, 1 don't know. {Taking a chew reflectively). I guess you'll hev to wait till he's sold off pretty much everything down to her. Arter he's sold his wife and children, I guess j'ou kin git a bar- gain out of him for that horse. Hey. But I asked you for a horse that I could buy. Hiram. Mebbe you did. All I heard you say was : " Where can I look for a good horse ?" I say, look at Bledsoe's. Hey. I suppose you want a consultation fee. {Takes out a pocket' book and gives him a bank note. Hiram takes it, looks at it scrutin- izingly, and hands it back.) Hiram. Yes, Mr. Heywood, that's a genooine bill. Hey. Well, why don't j-ou keep it ? Hiram. What for ? You don't owe me anything. If yon think the information about Bledsoe's horse is worth a dollar, I don't. When I've arnt it pay me; and if you want to lay yourself out for a good horse say so. Hey. That's my frame of mind, Hiram. And I am willing to pay the best price fur the best horse-flesh, and your expenses in the bargain. Hiram. That's business. Jest step here I {Goes up with Ueyvtood, R. Hiram sees boy perched on fence ; sheers off in opposite direction, l. n. e. Boy laughs, and continues whittling). Esel. Do you think Barton Cathcart so handsome ? 3 NORWOOD. 19 Rose. Every one is handsome wliom you love and respect. EsEL. Love and rcspecti Do you feel those for him ? lie is lucky. RosR. You would be all the richer if you had made his belter acquaintance. I'^SEL. As usual, you are beginning to be enthusiastic about him. Rose. You must ])ardon me that, cousiii Framk. Barton and I grew up like brother and sister, altliougli very dilleiently situated in life, and vv(; liave felt like brother and sister ever since we used to romp togetiier. EsEL. Sister ! That is a sweet word, consin Rose, in the realm of love, but it is a mischievous one. That word, " sister," is the cov- ered w.iy of love. First comes acquaintance — tiiat is May ; then friendship — liiat is June ; then brotiier .'ind sisleriiood — that is July ; and then love — which is August ; but July and August arc so much alike tiiat no one can tell wlien one stops and the oilier begins. Rose, Ah ! Harton loves me no more than a brother should, I know. {Manic). He is so good, and so sensitive of what is right, lle'd never fall in love with a giddy girl sueii as I. (Barton and Dr. Wentwohtu opprar/rom house at back, talking, the latin' wilhoul Ids hat. Tlic boy gves to h. 15arton sees the grouj) bdow and starts jealously . II ey wood cwjie.s m/rom l. u. e.) IIeywood. All ! Good afternoon Doctor ! Mr. Cathcart I {shakes hands ivilh Barton and Doctor). Doctor. Now, IIeywood, I want you to add your persuasions to mine to keep Barton here. Hey. Keep him here ? Why, Doctor, to bo sure. Where does he think of going ? Back to the Academy. Doctor. No, out West. Rose. Out West! {Elites and runs up to gateway). What an idea, Barton ! Since wlien have you had it '( Bar. {Coldly). Would j'ou really care to know ? Doctor Pshaw ! Why, like all iiis ideas, it has been taking root for several months before anything of it appeared above ground. I wish you'd root it up. Rose. '( Wdh reseroe ). I should first like to know wllat planted it there. ( TIten, recovering her sjnrils, runs to Barton, takes his arm and turns to others). Come, let's go in to tea, and you (/'> Barton) shall tell me what you've been thinking of Come, iMr. I'lsEi,. (Rose and Barton exeunt into house. Esel saunters up as Doctor and Haywood turn to go in). EsEL. I say. Doctor, what boy is that? {All gaze on Hardscrabble boy on fence ; he stoj^s uhiltling and gazes at them — whistling). Doctor. Fvidenlly transplanted Iroiii some hardy soil. Heywood. Oh, yes I Of the genus New England; — species, Hard- scrabble. Pete. {Outside i,.) Look yah, boy ! Doctor. Ah! there's Bete. We'll leave the task of examining the natural curiosity to him. [All laugh and go into house, n. n. b. Pete. {Entering l. v. e.) Look yah! Boy! Boy. Hello! Pete. What's yer pintin' fur now ? Boy, That tree. {Nods towards chestnut). Pete. De nuts 1 Boy. Yeh! We don't have none of them up our way. NORWOOD. 21 Pete. {Gazing fondly and proudly at tree). I g'uess not! Boy. Wc don't see a cliustiiut li-i;in xMonday moniing till Saturday night. Wc dream of thorn sometimes. Fete. Poor dcbbils! I tell ycr what : climb up and git a hat full. Boy. Cnn't. Pete. Why not ? Boy. Dunno how! Haint got no trees in Hardscrabble. We can climb a bush, but if its move than four feet we gets dizzy. Pete. Yaii! Jest hear datl Jest wait, Pll climb fur yer. Boy. {Jumping otf fence.) Pll give you a shove Pete. [Pete gofs bi-hind and climbs np. Sunsd glow disappears. Boy. Hurry up, Pete! Ag.\te {Inside). Pete! Pete! Boy. Hurry, Pete, they're calling yer. Pete. ( Up tree). Massy, dat'a Miss Agate! Boy. She's comin', Petk! quick, drop! Agate. {At door). Pete, Where arc you ? Pete. Comin'. Massy — {Falls on spikes of fence and hangs sus- pended). Hi! liil help! Boy. Pm oEF. Send me some of those nuts when you git 'em, Pete. IRuns of across bridge, l. 1 e. Music] Pete. Hi! hi! somebody! (Deacon, Polly, Agate, Barton and Heywood rush out. Deacon and Doctor release Pete. Polly. Pete, Pm shocked at you ! Trying to steal ! Do you know that you have broken the eighth commandment ? Pete, {Rubbing torn spot behind). Hab I ? {Goes off sadly r. 1 e). Polly. Its that Hardscrabble Boy. I knew he wouldn't be here a minute before he corrupted some one in the village. Rose. {Entering from house). Come, you havn't finished tea yet, and must hurry up if we are going nutting to night. {All go in ex- cept Barton, Rose and Doctor) Bar. Pll say good night to you here then. Doctor. Doctor. Nons.mse, come in and go with us. Hasn't Rose per- suaded you to give up that Western notion ? Rose. I haven't finished trying father. Doctor. Well, I'll leave you to do so. {Exit. r. d. e.) Rose. {Coming down c. uilh Barton). You mustn't leave us, Barton. Norwood will not be natural without you. What will Alice do without you ? What will I do ? for Pm sure I love you as much as she does ; and everybody is proud of you. Bar. That is all you ever say to me. Rose. Rose. Why, what else could I say, brother ? Bar. {Turning away). Brother! {m'h warmth) Rose I {hesitating). No, no, for her sake as well as my own I will not speak. Rose. {With frank simplicity leading him to seat). Barton, what are you thinking of ? {Tenderly). I know that I should love to hear what you are thinking. Do tell me. {Moonlight shows on trees, etc). Bar. {With painful effort). Oh, Rose ! Rose. Barton, what is it troubles you ? Bar. Rose, things have come upon me to day, I never felt before. But I will not give them tongue. A fear that 1 should sacrifice you to my own selfish life restrains me. The fear that I have not been NORWOOD. 23 called — that you stand in one place, and I in anotlicr, and that wo can never ehiing'c. Rose, {'faking Ilia hand ^). Oh, Barton I Doctor. {Al Ike duor, r. u. ic.) Kosh 1 KosE. Yen, i'allici' ! (CoiiccaliiH/ her team). Doctor. Yuii have cliiei' cliaig-o and command of our frolic to- night, you liMow, and wo ougiit to start. Come, Barton, lad, lie vviso and t;'o willi us. {ExU. u, ii ) Ji03n. Barton, come, and you can Icll me all lliere. JiAii. S|)ai'e jue a refusal ol'y(jiu' ap|)eal. I miiimL put the uiouiitaiiib bolween ua. KosE. You shan't p:o. Wait till I pet my hat and thinfi^H; we'll hoc whose will is strongest. {She taken a ribbon fromlur iieu/c and Ihroixa U around Ids). There — consider yourself in eliains till 1 come li.iek. {E./:U. into hou^e). Bar {Oazeii after her fondhj). Shall I ? — No, I must not stay. She was HO g-entle, though ; and yet when I think how iiunu^asurahly hig,h she is above mo, I can hardly hope. But I should bo playing with my own destiny did 1 leave iier in doubt. 'J'hat is easily (jvereouic. {Music. He lalcen hook from /ti.s poclcd, and writen on a leaf an/ollown : — " liosE : — Shadow and sunshine arc battling over me iw 1 write — my poverty, and the hope of your love. 1 must go — but iris in order that 1 may overcome the one and deserve the (jthcr, Tlie silence of my heart through years yearns for an expression. Only let ine hear one word to say you are not olfctnded." {Mooidirjhl fuller and lower. He plucks a bunch of flowers and wraps their stems luilh the note). Bar. Now to bind tliem. 'J'he very thing. {Takes the ribbon from his neck, Imses it. and ties the flowers with it). VVIiorn can I trust with it ? No OIK! ; I'll leave it here for her. Pete ( Without, 2 e. l.) Who's dar ? Bar. The very mm. (Pkte enters, h. 1 v..) Pete, can you do a lltllo errand for me ? Give this bunch of flowers to Miss Hose. It's the lust favor Pll ask of you, Pete, for I'm going away far from here — not to conic back for years. Pete. {TipsiUj). Yes, sah. Bar. Pete, you've been taking whiskey. Pete. Ye«, sah ; but berry slight : jest so much, hardly worth drinking, and not worth mentioning. Bar. Be careful of this ; give it to no one but her. Pkte. Sure, sah! sure! {Oues out, r. 1 e.) Bar. Rose, furewell! Now f. ground). Ha ! ha 1 Come, Mr. Heywooi), are yon ready ? It is a Rlorious moon, we'll have a grand night of it. ( Takes his arm, party all going l. u. e.). PoiXY. {Lad). Pete, come along, you lazy black man, what have you been doing so long '! Pete. Pse lieen a iriendin' the eighth commandment what I broke climbiu' the tree, Miss Marble 1 {General law^h. LiutUj music). Quick Curtain. ACT II. SCENE I. — Interior of Toi/iMY Tavh'h house. The room is supposed to be 0)1 thd secund dory, and to be reichi'd by nlaivH at back from below. Old chairs, broken and mended. A rouyh cot, L. n., in angle. One chair is made out of hdf a barrel, savicdinlwo, with a back made of slams. Shavings, etc., at back, in corner. Old saws, etc., on wall ; a couple of old ship engravings, and a map also. Rack vnth old books on wall at back ; table under it. At n. h. a long wide mantle over a capacious fire-place : a log fire in it. Medicine bottles of all sizes on mantle. Window at back, over stair-case. Clock on wall over bed. At rise of curtain Tommy is discovered on bed, and Mother Taft sewing in chair by the fire, Taft. {Waking up). Ugh, uf?h, uffh. (Cough.) MoTiMcit T. (Ooing to him) . Did you Hpouk, father? It'n about time for your irK.'dioiui^ TaI'-t. (Helped to a silling posture). Doho it out I (MotukhT. given him a spoonful, over which he makes grimaces ; finally takes it). Ughl damn that iiK.'dicino. (Throirs him f elf back). VVIiat'H tiirio? MoTiiKU T. (Sits by cut). Noarly lour. How do you feel ? Taft. How hIiouIcI I I(m.'1. (JouliMiudodly diHappiiitod. I drcam't, in a doHin' Hoit o'way, that Barton t/'ATiiCART iiad couk; l)acl( froiri tliO WoHt, and waH Hittiri' horo Ijy inc. Tiicn J wako up and see a Hcoro oi' ni<;dicino hottloH i^rinniug at iiic thuic. What d(jyou put 'em there for? Mo. T. I'll take tliem away. (Going). Taft. (Sharply). I.ot 'em alone. (Milder). Let 'em be, Mother. I'm as crabb(,'d aH a lobHter this artenioon. Mo. T. (Taking his hand). Oh, no 1 not so bad as that, Tommy. Tom. (Crossly). Yen, I am, What arc yer eontrudictiii' u sick man fur ? It ujakcs me rile. There'« Home one down Mtaira ? Mo T. (Ooing to railing and calling). WIio'h there ? Hikam. (lieloui). Me, old lady. Mo. T It'H lIiRAM ; may he eome \\\) ? Taft. Oh, let him come ; I thought it was the Doctor. UiiuM. (Aj/pearing). Thought I was the Doetor, eh 1 Well, itmight NORWOOD. 29 ha' been ; for I see old TcnrMouLD, the undertaker, comin' down the street this way Well, Iiow arc we to-day, (jld man? Taft. First rate! This weather 'd make a handspike blossom. Hiram. Keep your spirits up, eh ? Taft. Jolly as a crew just paid off. (Crossly). What do you want to know for ? Hiram. [To Mrs. Taft, r. h.). Cross some ; ain't he. Mother? Taft. What if I am ? Don't they all tell me I'm in a bad way I Goin', says the Doctor; Comin', says the Undertaker; Parson wantin' to pray over me; neighbors thinkin' it's time to drop in and take a look at me. And me, a great, strong, rough fellow, layin' hpre like a log, to be dosed and prayed for, and talked about. Goin' — dyin'. Dyin'I ( With emotion.) Uamme ! and Barton a thousand miles away. Why don't he come ? I'm livin' on the hope of his comin'. Let me see him and Turfmould may come in and welcome. Hiram. (IbMo. T.) Always thinkin' of Barton. Mo. T. Yes ; more than ever. Hiram. Never mind. Tommy ; his time's 'most up to come home. Cheer up. {Noise bchnv). {Noise of some one falling over barrels heard below. Hardsrcabble boy calls out " Hi.'') Taft. See who's there! Mo. T. T'hey 've tumbled over the barrels. Boy. {Be!(jw). Hi ! Mo. T. It's one of the Hardscrabble lot. Taft. Come up, you lubber ; don't strike on the rocks. Boy. All right, ole boss ! {Appears half way up stairs, and looks through the balustrades). Where are you, Tommy 1 Hip.AM. What do you want? Boy. Barrels. Taft. I ain't got your barrels. Boy. I know yer haint. Taft. Then what d'ye come here sayin' barrels for ? Boy. Brought some ; want 'em mended. Taft {Roaring). Take 'em away agin! D'ye hear ? Don't you see I'm sick. What d'ye bring barrels to a sick man to be mended fur ? Boy. {Incredulously, and coming up another step, his arms folded on the bannister). What are yer ? Taft. I'm sick ! Boy. Gammon I (Tommy makes an eforl to clutch a boot to fling oX him, but falls back exhausted). I know ye're shammiu'. It won't do. Will yer, or won't yer mend them 'are barrels ? {No answer). I say, ole woman : is he sick, for fair ? Mo. T. Yes ; he's veiy sick. Don't make a noise. Boy. Do tell ! {After apause, and very gravely). I know what'll cure him ! HiRAM. What is it? Boy. Kick i'm. That's the way they does with me up at Hard- scrabble when I'm sick. (Hiram goes to the fire, r. ; sits). Turf. (Below). Whoa ! whoa ! Boy. Who's that at my horse ? (Euns to window, opens it, and hangs half out). Hi! you, there ; let 'em be Taft. Hiram, I ain't worry well ; now if you'd go over there and help the rest of that boy out o' that window I'd feel obliged. (Mo. Taft. takes kettle from fire, goes to table, mixes lea for Hiram), NORWOOD. 31 Boy {Speaking to those inside). It's Turfmould, the Bcxton ; hero ho is I (TuHFMOULD cumea up the dairs). Siiy, olo man ; lend us a skull to play ball willi. Won't ycr ? Any olo skull you ain't got no usofui'I {'I'vuFiwm.v passea ivilhoul heeclirif/). Say, will ycr? (IIiram throws one o/'Taft's ^/loe.s at him Boy exits down atairx). (TuHF. shakes hands icilh Mo. Taft and Uikam, solemnbj. He is a solemn vian, but wiqfj'ertedly so). Taft. Hallo, TuhfmouldI (^(S'Aate hands with him. T. sits by bed). Fine weather. Pretty busy just now, Elil Buried the minister's wife yesterday, didn't you; slio had a fine bui'yin'l TunF. Yes, Mr, Taft, line funeral. I've been in the business thirty years odd, and I've done most of the respectable buryin' hereabouts, and it was a good funeral. IJiram, I thought the hull country had turned out. Such a lot of carriages. TuuF. Yes, it was very like Sunday. Taft. Pretty coffin. Eh, Turffy 1 Turf. Never better. Pooi- thing, I know her taste — she was awful neat. I made it just as she'd a liked it — dusted every corner of it before I put her in, — to oblige her. Taft. It must have been very edifyin', Tubf. Hiram. Everything depends on tho way the funeral's managed, Tuuffy ! TuHF. Ah, Yes ! Look at that funeral of Bidwell's wife, now. They put the grievin' husband in the coach with his sister-in-law, and they liked to quarreled all the way. Old Bidwei.l told me all about it. Says he, "If ever I have another funeral, Turfmould, you shall have it, for that Jones is no sort of undertaker; he just spoiled my wife's whole luneral, and I did not take a bit of comfort in it from beginnin' to end." Taft. Ah! Its wery true, Turffy; if 1 go you shall do for me, Tuuffy; I wouldn't have no other man alive ! Turf. It's wery good o' you to say that. Tommy. I'll do my wcry best for you, sure. Talkiiig of funerals. Tommy, how do you feel to- day ? {Sits up by him closer). Hiram. {To Mo. Taft, ivho gives him the cup of tea; — pointing to Turf). VV^ell, if that ain't better nor medicine, I ain't do judge o' killin'. Mo Taft. Why, if there ain't tho Deacon ! [Deacon andFoLLY come up stairs, a. Poi.i.Y. {Shaking hands with Mo T., solemnly. Mo. T. very humble). Ah ! Mo. Taft, It is sad to think of affliction. Deacon. Come, Polly, don't dash their spirits — try and cheer them up. Polly. Don't interfere. Deacon. I do believe you'd like me to laugh right out in the chamber of death. {Stdl more solemnly going to Taft, who sits up to receive her. Slie sits on one side of him, luhile I'uufjiould Siis on the other. Mo. Taft placing a chair for tier). I pity you, Taft, very much. (Mo. Taft goes to fire-place.) Taft, {Shortly). Tiiank ye, ma'am. Polly. Don't be touchy, Taft; you know you're sick, and yon know you're sinful. Deacon. {Who has been shaking hands with Mo. Taft and Hiram.) Come, Polly, now don't. Taft. How arc ye. Deacon ? Lot her go on, I can stand it. NORWOOD. 33 PoLi.Y. Have you had the Doctor ? Taft. Yes, but what can he do for eyef? that are worn out, and for innards that's used up 1 Why, he couldn't even do aiiythiuj? for my wooden leg ! And, if he can't doctor that, what kin he do for flesh and bh)od. {Alt laugh). HiBAM. That's so, old salt! (Polly and Tl'bf. roll up their eyes.) Polly. {Silencing D^&Acati andldiRtM with a look). My friend, you are near the grave. Taft. Well, I ought to he. I've been travellin' straight to it for over seventy year. Polly. Have you made your preparations ? Taft. No, I left all that to Tukfmould; he's my man; I W(in't have no other. {Winks at Deacon). Polly. Ah, Taft! I don't know what to make of you. Taft. Don't make anything of me. I'm made already, and you're too late. {She and TvHF. groan). Hallo ! some one's below. {Looking and listening towards stairs). Deacon. No ! Taft. Yes, I tell you. It sounded like — like Barton 1 Deaion- Why, he's out West ! Tait. Is hel {Absently). Well, I was mistaken; — No! there is eome one. [Music] (Rose and Alice come up stairs. They each have a basket. R(jse gives her's to Alice as they reach the top step, and Alice goes to Mo. Taft, who comes to meet them.) Why, it's Miss PiOSE and Miss Alice ! Rose. (^Running to him). Yes, we are here Tommy. (Tdrf. and Polly rise, cross over to fire, giving their places to Alice and Rose. Alice. Why, how rosy you look to-day. Uncle Tom ! Deacon. Bless 'em ! tliat's the medicine for a sick man. Polly. Deacon, he needs something for his soul. Deacon. Polly, there's danger of physickin' a man's eoul too much, and then he turns agin' it. [Hiram and Deaco.v hel}) Mo. Taft to take things out of baskets; and Polly and Turf go to window.] Taft, Now, it's mortal good o' you young gals to come and see such an ole wessel as 1 am. I've had Turfmould — who is the grave; and Aunt Polly — who is the world beyond it ; and now I breathe a little freer, for you are both fresh and beautiful, like the life we're livin' in. Alice. But the Spring is here now, Tom, the Spring! and you'll soon be better. Then Rose has such news for you ; good news. Taft. Good news! Say it again. Alice. Good news ! There; Rose shall tell you all about it. [Goes up to table with Mo. Tafp; shows preserves and things in basket. Taft. Is it ? It isn't about ? Rose. Yes, it is about Barton; he's coming home. Taft. I know'd it ! I know'd it ! Rose. Father's got a letter from him; he may be expected in three or four days. Taft. Aiu't you glad, little gal; ain't you fit to jump up and dance: don't tliat news je.s' make you grow 1 Rose. Do you think I ought ever to be glad again to see him, Uncle, after the way he left me ? — Not a word — not a line of writing to say even "good bye"; nothing but a few flowers tied with my own ribbon, that he scorned to keep. 5 NORWOOD. 35 Taft. Ain't I told you dozens o' times I knows there's some mis- take about that 'ere. It warn't Barton's way; them flowers, I know, was given a tongue to say prettier things to you than you ever heard, if thoy could only be made to speak. RosR. But they have never spoken, and in my little desk at home they lie voiceless and dcjul. Taft. Well, he's coniin', and this here's got to be cleared up, and afore I goes, too; 1 can't die .■ind not see that boy agin'; there'.s but one Barton Catiicart in the worhl, and it other folks don't know his value, I do; I can't die till I've asked him — till he tells me. (Rose looks down). There! don't blush; 1 won't say a word to him, and ho shall speak out of his own big heart. Polly. {Coming down). Well, I hope when Barton docs come he'll put you on the right and virtuous track, Thomas Taft, and tell you what is to become of you. Taft. Exactly 1 and whatever Barton says I'll do, for it will bo right. Alice. {Coming behind him) . Can't I help you, Uncle Tommy; ain't I as good as Bakton ? Taft. Bless your lovely face, you are almost as good as Barton's self ; but I want to see Barton about many things. They tell me I'm going. Where? Now, wherever Barton leads I'm going; I don't care much for myself, but I want to keep by him. liarkl {All listen). Rose. What is it? Polly. His tantrums again ; he's always hearing something. Turf. It's the wind, old friend. Taft. The wind don't come like the footsteps you love. Hark again. {Pause). Deacon. I hear nothing but the tickin' of the clock. Alice. Its just four. Hiram. And it's goin' to strike ; the darned old thing goes on a regular bust when it strikes. [Tlie clock commences ivith a whirr to strike; Tommy looks towards the stairwayl . Barton. {Below). Where are you, Tommy Taft. \_ All start amazed]. Taft. Ila I {Rising to his feel). (Barton runs up stairs ; Alice runs to greet him; he kisses her; then runs and embraces Taft. Rose at left, shy. Rest on r. by fire-place arid up.) Bar. Sister ! What, old friend ! Taft. My boy ? I knew it. I heard you. They said it was the wind ; it was a good wind that brought you home. But look round you. Barton, — who's there 1 (Barton sees Rose ; advances, honestly takes her hand). Barton. Miss Wentwortfi! Taft. {Throwing himself back on bed). Oh, the blamed idiot I Alice. Oh I Barton, you liavu come back so soon. {He looks curiously at her). But not a bit sooner than we wished. Bar. (c.) And how are all in Norwood, — all the friends. {All cluster about him, and shake hands). Alice. Lots of changes. Barton. Hiram, Ya-as, lots 'o changes ; some on 'em by sarcumstances, and some on 'em by time. Deacon. The troubles and dissensions that have fallen on our land have been felt even here. (Alice turns her head sadly away). NORWOOD. 37 Bar. HEYwaoD ? Alice, lie iias gone south to liis friends. TuBF. He tlioug-ht he'd rather be in the bosom of his family. Polly. Here, don't you folks monopolize 1 Gome over here, Bauton, and give us a chance to look at him. (Barton v<:r *"'"■ /r .• (K'lHii; f/rifH hrick hilo tMrd). Ai.ir.K {LmdmrjoutpoorHohlier whouHFHarrulrh). Can yon rcafh th(! arrjIiuhuK;*; ? I will go willi yon. WowNnn/. Man. Thank'y, ma'am! Yon aro vrry g„o: Camrj- Jtrn.^ Una of /.hem I'jic.alcH lo 'VvuvwnnAt) : .Souilica. Who an; tlioHo ladicH I /IW. Them? Why, it'H tlio old one nn,| tl,.: y„nng dov.^n There aintmany hoyH in IhiH diviHion that di. j Just one word, Agate ! {S . 77 l!oY. [On his i-iiffs q/'liT ((/i/i/i'.v. "I Wlicri'vci' yiii[ n<'c 'fiii, l>KKr;, lot nit' know, anil I'll |iick 'cm np Dl'lAi'ON. 'riici'c's OMO i^'iMU' (Inw II jiy llii' liir |il!n-r, my Kim. Oil, AoATic I liiivi' yon cvor tlunip,lil you woi'o inlrnilril In nuiUr somr liomo hivpiiy '( AiiATK. Well, I iicvrr llioii;;lil so iiiilll somo one lolil me hi). DitAcoN. Sumo line 1 Agatk. Yns; iind no(. very Ion;;' Nincc. ^'oii koc I'm I'liink willi yon, Dkaoon. Dkaixin. Thon I'm loo laic. Agatk. Jii.sl a lillU^ bit;. Deacon. (Mii/n'x a slip hachrnrds and tliis an uji/ilf Unit Ihr liov /((/(/ chiisrd ti> his hrvl st'i-i-nil i/ards Jiiiilirr (>(/'. Thi', Uov tluiscs il in its nnn dirfttiou.) Tiiis in u lixcii tiling, ifi il AiiATH? .'\i:ati!. Yes. ('I'li/.in;/ lip pan). .\\u\ ulicii «c j^'ct In llic clmicli yon slnill know tiic rest. (/Ciit, i. I. v.). DHAOON. oil, what, wonlil l'oi,i,\ Niiy il' she rmihl hear Ihin'l Boy. Why she'il isay it werveil ymi rij^nl. .'-^nch a. wili' as I'ui.i.y MAiiin.n waa to yon, Dkacon; you iuif;'hl to think llial you lu'ver emihl finii anotliei' like her. Dkaoon. 1 (liil'nt e.xpeel to; no, imr I iliil'iil wiiiil to. Boy. Don't, yon know who 'tis that's imnle up to Miss Missm.i,. Deacon. No, anil it tlon't nmller ho Ion;;' as il ain't iiie; Imt I knew tliiu^H waH agoin' ai^'in' iiu^; I lived too tar out, of liiwii. {(iin'inj c). [Enter Vv:vv. in a dfji'iivd diili\fulll<; tah'sa largr shert o/' paper, silsdnivn, puts an liis s/iccs and ciiminences to loritr. lliiiAM pais an his specs, and In' and I'kik and l5ov all look over DkaconJ. HiKAM. That'll biMincommoii strong, I'ktk. Hoy. What yon going to do with it 1'etic 'i* Pk'I'k. Don't you boddor yourself 'bout, it, young teller; you ain't old enough to know the diU'erenci^ 'tween rnin and whiskey yil, dar- I'ore dcri' ain't no s'lemnily' 'bout sweariii' oil' to ymi. Dkacon. Sign this, I'ktk. I'nt your mark to it. 'I'liere! 'I'liero's a pledge not to taste a drop of liipior again. (Dkacon exits ) (I'ktk lakes the, paper renemtitialli/, and gazes iil it). Kov. Let's see il I'ktk. (I'ktk sIiows if, hut won't let him touch it). What good's that 't I'ktk. It'll prevent my (diber toncliin' a dro|) o' liquor iigin. Young JJoY, you iH young, but yon is old enough to do good. Don't drink. o y^.-^a-.v o<^.i^-> y.-^i.\ ! ^^•^^'% ^°^:f^'> .//^;:>^ c°^:^^'' %'^'-'/ v^V \'^V -•^^•-'^ ■^ jfy - ' * " cY ^ O"^ t-' .HO*. ♦ ■€? v. » V JSak ♦ A^ ^ • ©US ♦ «/ f^^ ^ %. 'o a-^o*. *\>/ --» o • * * A -t J, - . . ' ' • 4 c^ ♦ HECKMAN IXI BINDERY INC. |e| ^^ DEC 88 'm=Wt- N. MANCHESTER,