CATALOGUES FREE TO ANY ONE. m K AMES' Series of STANDARD AND MINOR DRAMA. ►) Xo. 83. OUT ON THE WORLD. 1 ^ ^ ^ A DRAMA IlSr THREE ^CTS. BY Wi'l'IfCAST OF CHARACTERS, ENTRANCES AND EXITS, RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PERFORMERS ON THE STAGE, DB- SCRIP TION OF COSTUME, AND THE WHOLE OF THE STAGE BUSINESS, AS PERFORM' ED AT THE PRINCIPAL AMER- ICAN AND ENGLISH THEATRES. 3\ 3> CLYDE, OHIO: A. D AMES, PUBLISHER, i^M^##^^M##K¥^^i^^ % AMES' SERIES OF STANDAR D AND MINOR DRAMA. FIFTEEX CENTS E:iCH. ^^ A Full Doscriptive Catalogue froe to any one. "^^ A Desperate Game A Capital ISIateh An Unhappy Pair A Ticket of Leave A Koniantic Attachment A Bay Well Spent A Pet of the Public Arrah DeBaugh An Unwelcome Return Alarmingly Sus]»icious A Life's lievenge At Last Adrift An Awful Criminal Aurora Floyd Black Statue Brigands of Calabria i Better Half Beauty of Lyons Biter Bit Black vs "White Cheek Avill Win (Japtain Smitli Coming Man Did I Dream it Domestic Felicity Der Two Subprises Driven to the Wall Deuce is in Him False Friend Fetter Lane to Gravesend Fatal Blow Gentleman in Black Give Me Mv Wife How He Did it Hints on Elocution Handy Andy How Stout You're Getting Henry Granden Hans', the Dutch J. P. Hamlet Hunter of the Alps (Law How to Tame Your Mother-in - (Child Baptized How Sister Paxey Got Her In The Wrong Clothes In the Wrong Box John Smith Jumbo Juni Joe's Visit Killing Time Lady Audley's Secret Lady of Lyons Life's Revenge Mictiael Erie Mother's Fool Mistletoe Bough Miller of Derwent Water Mr. and Mrs. Pringle My Heart's in ihe Highlands My Wife's Relations Man and Wife Mischievous Nigger Kot So Bad After All Not as Deaf as He Seems No Cure, No Pay Out on the World Old Phil's Birthday Outcasts Wife On the Sly Obedience Out in tne Streets Paddy Miles' Boy Poacher's Doom Painter of Ghent Rooms to Let Rock Allen the Orphan Rescued Spy of Atlanta, 25 ct.s. 1600U Years Ago," Stage Struck^;Darkpy ] Stocks Up Stocks Down Sport with a Sportsman Schnap}-<^-^. "P^tart when^— — ^ * I Lar. Sure an yer not lay in' the blame on me when I was [ defendin' Mrs A. Stop ! I've seen enough of these quarrels, and some means must be taken to prevent them. Both of you ought to be ashamed. Now go about your work, and don't let another complaint come to me from either of you. Lar. {goes to Biddy and puts his arm around her) Come along, Biday, we won't Bid. {kicking) Git out you infarnel dirty vagabond ! Such impudence as that ! Tjar. {to Mrs. A.) Jest see that! When I was about to make friends ^with her, she'd trate me like that ! Mrs A. Biddy, start for the kitchen ! Don't let me have to speak to you again. {Biddy and Larrie exit, R. Enter Harry, c. a hoy nit^eyears old. Har, dear ! Where is Nellie ? It's awful lonesome. I feel as if some- thing terrible is going to happen. Mrs A. Nellie is in her room, she will be down soon. What is the matter? Har. I don't know. I feel uneasy and discontented. Mrs A. Well, sit down and rest. When Mr. Alden comes, we will all go down to the dock with him and see him leave. Har. Leave! Why, he isn't going away so soon, is he ? I have not seen him long enough yet. Mrs A. That's what Nellie said. But you see it is necessary for him to go. His voyage will be a short one this time, and when he returns, he will stay longer with us. You seem to be greatly attached to Mr. Alden. Har. I am, and to you and Nellie, too. Why shouldn't I be ? You tolk and make a few calls on our way home. (Mrs. Al- den, Nellie ayid Harry put on things) The children manifest greater un- easiness at your dep-irture now, than ever before. Mr A. I am sorry ! What it something ehould happen to prevent me from ever seeing them again ! Mrs A. It is not at all probable that anything unusual will occur. 3Ir A. Perhaps I ought not to s]>eak so. Remember what 1 told you. You cannot be too careful. Come on Nellie and Harry, {all about to exit C Enter Lame, r. Lar. Howld on a brafe moment. An' would you lave, Cap'n, without biddin' yer humble servant good bye? Mr A. Pardon me, Larrie, I was so deep in thought that I forgot you. Take good care of Mrs. Alden and the children during my absence, and on my return I will reward you. Keep a sharp watch over everything. Lar. Yes-sir-ee, that I will. Don't be alarmed about things when I'm around. Mrs A. 0, I iorgot ! Larrie, please call Biddy here just a moment. Lar. Yes, mum, in a brafe moment. Exit Larrie, R., presently appears, Biddy with him, Mrs A. Biddy, Avhile I a,m gone, you may bring a pail of water and wash the door casings. {exit Mr. and Mrs. Alden, Harry and Nellie C. Bid. Yes muni, {shakes her fist at them) Jest let the first chance hap- pen for me to heap my vingeance on that woman, an' wont I take advant- age of it? Scroob the casings ! Indade, it'll be a mighty dear scroob to her if I ken make it so. Lar. Biddy, ye're the charm o' my life. I couldn't stay here without ye. Bid. Well, I shall not stay here a great mauy days more to be insulted in this way. If anything is to be done it's left for Biddy to do. But Larrie is a gintleman — he ken set in the parlor an' intertain company. {exit e. Lar. Bless the day \vhen ye'll leave! 1 wonder what the Capt'n was thinkin' so earnestly about when ho left. He tole me to take good care o' mistress an' children, while he was gone. He never tole me that afore. O, be gory, I see all through it ! Faith an' I guess I'd better keep an eye on this hateful baste that jest went out. He'd noticed her odiousness. {exit c. Enter Biddy, r., with pail of boater in one hand and a large toxoel saturated xvith toater wadded up zn the other. She catches her toe in the carpet and tumbles headlong on the floor. Larrie hearing the noise, enters, raises both hands in astonishment, and then bursts out into a hearty laugh. Bid. {throwing the towel at Larrie) Git out, ye dirty villain ! Sneakin' 'round here. {Larrie passes out c, just in time to escape the toivel. Biddy writhes about pretending to be severely hurt) Oh ! that almost broke my back. There's a pain in my heart too; I shouldn't wonder if I broke it. I've heard of sech things as that. But then, Biddy ken do all the dirty work whether she's any back or heart either, (goes to work) I long for the time when I shall be out o' this. Enter Harold, l. Bid. {thinking it is Larrie, jumps dow7i from the chair on which she is standing, and about to throw the towel at him) Beg your dear pardon, sir, y thought 'twas that provokin' bogtrotter. OUT ON THE WORLD. 7 Harold. Excuse me for appearing so abruptly. I have a proposition to make to you. Bid. {carelessb/ dropping the towel) A propisition ! Sure an I've been expectin', a long time, some one would propose to me. I knew I didn't pos- sess all this beauty for nothing. Strange ye've not did this before. Harold. Well, you see I've had no good opportunity. I desired to see you when the folks were away. Can you keep a secret for me ? Bid. To be sure I can, sir. It's just as much for my advantage as yours to keep it a secret. Why, sir, I'm only nineteen now, an' do you belave I ought to waste my swateness here, in slavery to these overbearin' people? Harold. Surely you ought not to. You don't speak of these folks as if they were your special favorttes. Bid. Indade, sir, they'r'^ not. All the dirty work is tucked onto me jest because I'm always wilh^' to do it. I was afther remarkin' a short time ago, that I should be glad when I was out o' this. Harold. You don't like the mistress very well, then ? Bid. No. Go on with yer proposin', I'm anxious to hear. Harold, (aside) She seems to misconstrue what I say, but I think I can trust her. (aloud) Well, this woman you are living with, was once a beau- tiful, charming creature. Bid. Jest like myself! Harold. For h, long time I paid my attentions to her, but she refused ray offer of marriage, and Bid. Aint ye glad of it since ye set yer eyes on me ? Harold. Every since she rejected me, I have vowed to make her repent of her conduct, and I think the time is at hand. Her husband is about to depart on another voyage. This will make it easier for me to bring about what I desire. The plan I have in view is this : I intend to rob the Al- den's of their daughter. I want your assistance in this. I will liberally reward you for it, and if you desire a better situation, I will procure it for you. Will you lend me your aid ? Bid. (covering her face xoith her hands) Pardon me, sir, I thought 'twas the other thing you was going to propose. Sure an, I'll be aftJaer givin' ye all the help desired. I've been wantin' a chance to cover that woman with my hate, an' now I've the opportunity. Harold. That is capital, (aside) All my plans are working to perfec- tion, (aloud) Now, as to the way in which we shall do this. Sometime when Mrs. Alden is going out, you manage to have the child left with you. I shall pass frequently, and when the opportunity comes, you signal me and I will come and take her. Take great interest in her before her moth- er, but be careful not to over do it so as to create suspicion. I must leave, for Mrs. Alden will soon return, and then my plans will be liable to be overturned. It will not be at all difficult to gain possession of her, for I shall make her presents, from time to time, to gain her favor. Mind you keep this to yourself. Bid. Sure an' I'll kape it as sacret as a mice under a haystack. An' wouldn't ye like to take the boy too ? Harold. Yes, I'll take them both. I have an out-of-the-way place, four hundred miles down the coast, where I can place them out of reach of any one. (exii h. Bid. (goes to work briskly) I'll see whether I'm to be kept here for a nagur waiter or not. I'm so happy I could sing. {sings. That night on the road as I went to Darbee, A terrible craitcher set up in a tree ; In a tree that grew out o' the side o' a hill, And the craitcher cried out whi{)powill, whippowill. Enter Larrie, R. Lar. What ye singin* so swately about, Biddy ? Ye're migjity happy all at once, seeiiis to me. Ye've changed yer tune since I see ye last. 8 OUT ON THE WORLD. Bid. [fiercely) I'll change your tune, if ye don't mind yer business. Lar. Change my tune 1 Ye tried that once in the kitchen, didn't ye ? D've recollect with whataise I planted ye down in the corner? Bid. Well, I reckon ye wont do it again ! Ye lawless upstart, ye wont have a chance to pick on me in this way a great many times more. I'm goin' to Stan' up for my rights now. Ye know the mistress allays favors ye. Lar. {he has been regarding her ivith astonishment) 0-ho-ho-ho ! Ye've sang that melody iver since I knew ye. 0, Biddy, ye'll niver swally any one alive. Bid. Sure an' I'll not s^^ally your rotten carcass, I ken tell ye that. The first chance I git, I'm goin' to have me a hoosband, then we'll see who'll come off boss. Lar. A hoosband ! Who in creation will it be ? Bid. When he gits his fist into yer nose once, he'll make ye think of Quid Ireland. Lar. 0, it's a big Irishman then. I guess ye won't be sharp enough to catch a son of Emerald Isle very soon. What's the matter o' ye? Have ye had a call while I've been gone? Bid. Wouldn't ye like to know ? Lar. I don't care Avhether or whether. Bid. Well, I guess ye'd have to wait till ye'd find out, if ye did care. Lar. 0, but I'll tell the mistress, when she comes. That'll fetch ye 'round as quick as anything. Here she comes now. Enter Mrs. Alden, Nellie and Harry, c. Mrs A. What's the trouble now? Lar. Biddy has been afther havin' a call while 1 was gone, and refused to tell who it was. Bid. That hateful bogtrotter has been tryin' to provoke me again, with his infarnel slander, and Mrs A. Stop ! Now, Larrie, I'll hear what you have to say. Bid. {fiercely) Yes, ye'll always manage to give him the priference,' an' belave all his lies, ye hateful ould croaking jade. Mrs A. Biddy, pack up your things quickly, and leave ! Don't you dare stay here another moment. Bid. {kneels before Mrs. A. with clasped hands) 0, but if you'll only for- give me this time, I'll promise niver more to offend ye. Mrf: A. This is not the first time. ■ You don't seem to realize how great an offence you have been guilty of. Bid. 0, I can see my fault now. I niver beheld it so before. Mrs A. Well, as you seem to manifest so great penitence, I don't know but I will try you once more. Bid. Belave me, it will niver happen again. {exit Larrie, c. Mrs A, Now, Biddy, you may leave this work as soon as you finish it, and prepare dinner. Bid. Why, I've it finished now. Mrs A. Very well, I'll excuse you then, {exit Biddy r., leaving pail) Now children, you must not go out in the street unless some of us are with yon. You had better sit down here and rest j'ourselves till after dinner. Nel. Why, mother, do you tell us not to go on the street alone? Mrs A. Because your father was very anxious that I should guard you carefully, lest some accident should happen to you. Nel. I don't see how anything is going to harm us now, more than ever before. Har. You cannot ahvays tell what is going to happen. Nel. Why, Harry, what do you mean by saying that? Har. 0, never mind ! It is not at all likely that anything bad is going to happen. Mrs A. I hope not. Your father loves you so, he is always careful to keep you out of harm's way. OUT ON THE WORLD. 9 Har. I think we have better reason to hope he will meet with no disas- ter, than he has to worry about us. Mrs A. That is so, Harrv, and if he returns safe, I shall be very thank- ful. 0, dear ! what if he should be wrecked on some unfriendly island ! Nel. ISTow, mother, don't speak so ! He is not go! nix to be v/recked. * Mrs A. We will hope for the best, and wait patientlv for his safe return. Let us go up stairs and watch his boat till out of sight. ' {about to exit l. Enter B'uidi/, r. Bid. I forgot my pail, so I thought Td come and git it. 0. but what a kind missus ye are, and I love yer children so, too. {pmhrnccs and kif,.out? Harold. 0, we must get out as soon as possible, so as to take the benefit ■of the delightful breeze. Enter Biddy, k., dressed in an old red shawl and hood. ao OUT ON THE WORLD. Bid. Don't I look capital in this rig ? Folks won't know but its your wife, I look so becomin*. Harold. Come on, let's be going, {takes Nellie hy one hand Harry hy the othq- — they are reluctant to go) what are you hanging back for ? Come along. {all ^^it, c, a pause. Enter Larrie, R. Lar. I wonder where all the folks have gone? I can't find any one about fhe house, not even Biddy. She'd better be hurrying up that din- ner, for I'm getting rather hungry, (a song or danceviay be introduced, after which Larrie goes out c. Enter Mrs, Alden, l. Mrs A. Well, children — {surprised) Why, I left them here a short time ago. 0, I guess they have gone up stairs to watch the boat. I'll go to the kitchen, and see how near dinner is ready, {exit n., but shortly te- turns, alarmed) Why, Biddy is gone, the fire all out, a^d no dinner I What does this mean? Where can she be ? aud the children ! I'll go and look for them. (€a;ii R. Enter Larrie, c. Lar. {excited) Where's the missus? The man told me he saw Biddy and the children, riding with a black whiskered man. I shouldn't wonder if that dirty, contemptable Biddy was up to something she'd no business to be. Enter Mrs. Alden, r. Lar. And what for you let the children and Biddy ride with the man with black whiskers ? Mrs A. {frightened) Biddy and the children riding with Avhom? _ Lar. They're riding at full speed, and are now out o' sight, with the black whiskered man that passes so often, Mrs A. What did my husband T.ell me? Run and send some one after them, quick! {exit Larrie, c.) My Nellie and Harry ! O, dear I My chil- dren riding with Harold, and already out of sight! Why couldn't I have foreseen it? I see now what Biddy's aftection meant. I see what the or- ange meant ! Oh dear, dear, why didn't I dismiss her when I attempted to. My husband out of sight, and my children stolen ; and warned before hand. What shall I do, what shall I do ! {faints, and falls on floor. Enter Larrie, c. Lar. The police say — What 1 Dead ! Hastily starts to go out, and returns, goes out c, but imynediately returns, ex- cited and confused, and dodges about the stage, CURTAIN. ACT II. SCENE FIRST, — Zeke CrowelVs house, four hundred miles down the coast. Doors R. and l., window c. Table c, at which Mrs. Crov)ell, Harry and Nel- lie, dressed in rags, are sitting, having just finished supper. Trap door near R. Mrs C. {rising from table, wiping her month ivith apron) Well, children, you may get up now and clear off the table and wash the dishes, for I guess yer father won't be in till late, and OUT ON THE WORLD. 11 Har. "What do you want to call him our father for? He is no relation to us, and you know it. I would be ashamed to call him father, and so would Nellie. Mrs C. {Hghtinq her pipe) Ashamed to call him father ! Wall, ye ought to be mighty glad to call him father. Ye orter think yourselves well off here. Ye have enough tew eat and keep warm, and hev a place tew sleep under shingles. When I wuz a gal, I should thought myself well off if I could had as much as that. Har. If you could see what we had before we were brought to this lone- some place, you wouldn't think it strange that we want to get away from here, and we intend to some time, too. Mrs C. Wall, I guess ye won't do anything very wonderful while Zeke Orowell has charge of ye. I've heerd little foolish boys talk before. I nev- er seed a young one brought up in the city yit that knew anything. City folks don't know nothin' themselves, and so their young one's can't know nothin'. I'm mighty glad I wasn't brought up among the fools. They don't seem to realize that they spile their young ones. I don't suppose that your folks knew it when they spilt you. Nel. Well, I guess we are not so near "spilt" as you think we are. You are so ignorant, you are not capable of judging. Mrs C. {excited) Do you tell me I don't know nothin' ? Ef I had a gad here, I'd wallop you. {shakes her) You're another city-brnught-up gal. It's jest as I told ye a minit ago — that city folks don't know nothin'. They jest go and pay out all their money for their children, and make fools ou 'em. Sech a dress as you had on when you come here. It looked jest as if some one had wadded up the cloth and throwed it at ye. I stripped that up mighty quick and put it in the carpet rags. I suppose ye had one o' them ere things ye drum down on, when ye was to home didn't ye ? IVel. Yes, I had a fine piano. {bursts out crying. Mrs C. A. pi-an-ny ! I should think as much ! I wouldn't hev one of 'em in my house a great while, before 'twould git split up for kindling wood. Now go at them dishes and wash 'em up, and stop that bellerin'. {Mrs. Croxoell sits. Children go to xvork at dishes — Nellie crying. Nel. 0, dear, Harry, what did we ever go with that man for? I wonder where mother is. Har. Don't cry, Nellie, all will yet be well. Nel. 0, if father only knew where we are ! we wouldn't be obliged to stay here a great while. Har. Well, he is not going to be gone a great while, you know. He will find out where we are, and come and rescue us. Enter Zeke Crowell, l., with a large bottle under one arm, and a broken jar C07itaining a small package, under the other. Zeke. What's that ye're talkin' about, young man ? Who's comin* arter ye? Mrs C. They've been talkin* about going away, and all this sort of thing, and I tell 'em Zeke. Never mind what you told 'em. As soon as I git rested and take a little grog, so I feel like it, I'll try and persuade the young man to stay here awhile. Old woman, you might go arter that gad, so as to have it ready. Exit Mrs. C. L., but presently returns tvith a large whip. Har. I don't care how much you whip me, if you don't whip Nellie. We don't belong here, anyhow, and we want to go home. Zeke. {setting the bottle on the mantle, and the jar on table, so thai Mrs. Crowell sees the break) Want to get away, do ye ? I'll try and change yer mind on that. {seizes whip and about to strike Harry. Mrs C. {seeing her jar broken, breaks in fiercely) Zeke Crowell, ye've broke my best butter jar, and I'm almost a mind to throw it right straight at yer old head. It's one I've had every since I was married. IS OUT ON THE WORLD. Zeke. Wall, ye jest throw it at my head if ye dare. I feel jest good-na- tured enough to hev a row with an old fool of a woman. I'll lay the gad 'round these ere youngones till they can't stand up, and then I'll mall it over you till there ain't a bit left of it. Mrs C. Zeke Crowell, if you ever strike me a blow, I'll have you arrest- ed before the day is out, I ken tell ye that, now, I might as well send a boy three years old to market, ad to send you. How did ye break that jar ? Zeke. None o' yer business, ye old jade. Mrs C. Wall, I never see the beat o' you. What did ye git for the eggs ? Zeke. I got a muddy coat for 'em. I stumbled into the gutter and spilt- ed 'em. Mrs C. (enraged) Zeke Crowell, I've a good mind to jest strike ye.over the head with the tongs. A man that don't know more that, orter be learn- ed sunthin'. Here I do all the work, and set the hens, and gather the eggs, and then to hev you go and cut up such a caper as this. I never in all my life see the beat of it. Zeke. [goes to the bottle and drinks) I'll give nature a jog, and then we'll eee if I can keep pace with the old woman. {Nellie, who has been washing dishes, drops a plate, breaking it. Mrs C. There, I never ! Ahother one of my best dishes broke. Zeke. {takes whip, seizes Nellie by the arm) I feel in jest good spirits enough to give you a rawhiding. Har. {entreating) Please don't whip Nellie. If you are going to whip anybody, whip me. Zeke. {seizing JIarry) I'll lick ye both. Come on here. {tfiey exit l. Blows of whip, and cries of the children are heard. Mrs C. Zeke, Zeke I don't strike 'em too hard. Zeke. {outside) Shet up yer head, ye o]d fool, or I'll whale you too. Mrs C. That man never has any mercy when he once gits to lickin' a youngone. He tried that game on me once, but I worsted him. He never has dared touch me since. Enter Zeke, l., with the children, crying. Zeke. Now both of ye go off to bed, and don't let me hear another word from ye to-night. (exiY children, r. Mrs C. 0, I forgot ! Zeke, did ye git the newspaper? {Zeke does not answer her) I say, Zeke 1 did ye git the newspaper? {pause) Zeke I Zeke. Whatl Mrs C. I asked ye if ye got the paper ? Zeke, Yes, I got the paper. Mrs C. Let me have it, I want to read. Zeke. {throivs paper in her face) There ! take it if ye want it. {they both light their pipes. Mrs. Crowell puts on glasses and goes to reading) I tell ye what, old woman, I'm going to git rid of them ere young ones jest as quick as I ken. If I can't git rid of 'em any other way, I'll bang stones to their necks and sink 'em. I won't have 'em round here a great while longer. Mrs C. Why, Zeke I they'd hang ye if ye done that. Zeke. I don't care what they'd do. Them ere young ones will have to leave here before to-morrow night. Mark my word for that. They don't know nothin', and ye might as well try to learn a block of wood somethin' as to try to learn 'em. Who wants sech critters as that around. I don't, and I ain't goin' to neither. Mrs C. Well, Zeke, you and I agree on one thing eaackly. That's about these ere children not knowin' nothin'. 1 jest expressed my 'pinion on that before you come. I'm mighty .glad I never was brought up, the way they've been. You never would have had me, if I'd been brought up the way they have been, would ye? Zeke. No, I don't s'pose I would. I got a poor enough bargain as it was. I come mighty near not havin' ye; and I guess I'd been better off, if I'd left ye after I promised to have ye. OUT ON THE WORLD. is ■ Mrs a Wall I declare ! Zeke Crowell, you ken leave now, if ye want tew. Ye spoke about gittin' rid of them children. How ye goin' to do it ? Zeke. 0, ye're mighty willin' to change the subject, when I tell ye too much truth, ain't ye ! j j Mrs C. How ye goin' to manage with 'em ? Zeke. Well now, old woman, if anybody asks ye, you tell 'em ye don'fc "?7* ^ (takes off his overcoat, throws it over her head. Mrs C. [throios it of, excited) Zeke Crowell, I won't stay here another minit to be insulted in this way. {exit Mrs. Crowell through trap door. Zeke. Good riddance. I ain't one of the kind to have an old woman boa- sm me 'round.— Let's see. How's the best way to dispose of them ere young onea % I guess I'll git 'em up now, and take 'em to the beach, tie a stone to their necks, and sink 'em. Nobody will ever know it, and it ain't at all likely that chap will ever come arter 'em, that brought 'em here, (hesi- tates) Yts, I guess that's the best way. {exit -r., and presently returns lead- mg Harry and Nelhe) Come on here ; we'll take a little walk down to the beach. Sar. What are you going to the beach for, this time of night ? Zeke. Now see here, young man, don't ask me any questions. It's my business why I'm a goin' to the beach. Perhaps it's to give you a bath. Net. 0, dear ! I don't want to go. Please don't take us off down there. Zeke. {attempting to lead them off l., both resisting) We'll see whether you'll go or not. {both pull away from him. He chases them around stoge. Enter Harold, l. Harold. Hallo, Zeke ! What's up now? Won't they mind you ? Nel. 0, dear I What can we do ? That awful man here again.' Harold, {advancing) Come right here to me, both of you. (children about to exit b. Harold seizes them) Hold on I Strange, you'd try to escape me. {to Zeke) But I say, Zeke, what was the trouble when I came in ? Zeke. (regarding Harold with astonishment) Well now, seems to me ye're takin' considerable liberty in my house. Who's gi'n ye leave to come in, in this way ? Ye didn't know I was boss of this shan^, did ye ? Harold. Never mind. That's all right. You see I'm mighty careful of these youngsters ; I wouldn't lose one of them for a fortune. I have an ob- ject in view. I knew when I left them with you, they would be perfectly secure ; but I concluded to change their place of residence, if you are willing. Zeke. Willin', of course I'm willin' ! That's jest-what I want ye to do. I didn't s'pose you'd ever be 'round arter 'em again. Harold. Well, I concluded to send them farther away from here, for I didn't know but what some one might run across them accidently, and be ^u®iV^^^°^ ^^ handing them over to their mother ; and that I don't intend shall be done. I have a friend who is about to start for the South Pacific and he has agreed te take them with him. (both children scream, and at- tempt to get away) No, I guess I wouldn't try that. You are noi very well acquainted with me yet. Enter Mrs. Crowell, through trap door. Mrs a Land sakes alive 1 Zeke Crowell, what on airth— (see* Hdfold-^ raises both hands in astonishment) Who's that ? Ze^e. Wall there, old woman, you've got taken back once in yer life, I hope. This 'ere man has come arter the young ones, and he's a goiu' to take 'em too. You needn't set up your blarney about it neither. Nel. 0. if father could only step in, and rescue us now 1 Harold. Your father never will see you again. His ship encountered a Btorm, and was wrecked. All went to the bottom with him. So you have no hope of him. •' Nel. VVhat will happen to us next ? Father shipwrecked, and drowned. All hope IS now gone, Harry. 14 OUT ON THE WOBLD. Har. Don't believe what this man says. He lied to us once, and he will do it agaiu. We cannot rely on what he says. Harold, ' Young man, do you tell me I lie ? Don't do that again, sir. Mrs C. Tiaen ye're goiu' to take 'em away, be ye? Harold. Yes, I must taka them away. Mrs C. I kinder hate to have 'em leave now , they've been here quite a spell. Zeke. Hate to Inve 'em leave ! Thai's as much as a foolish old woman knows. I should think we'd had enough trouble over these 'ere brats for nothin'. I'm mighty glad to git rid on 'em. Mrs C. {to Html d) Where do ye think o' takin' on 'em? Zeke. Now, old woman, it don't make any difference to you where he's goiu' to take "'em. He's a goin' to take 'em away from here, and^hat's enough for you to know. Mrs C. I didn't ask you, Zeke Crowell. Zeke. No, I know ye didn't; but I answered ye, so it's jest as well. You're je«t like any o!her old woman, comin' here, and stickin' yer nose into what's none o' yer business. Mrs C. Z'^ke Crowell, I'll give ye to understand that I've got as good a right here as you have. Z"ke. Yes, got a better right, ain't ye? ' Harold. {rotection. Your husband no longer lives. You can relieve yourself of this wretchedness only by a union with me. You can be made hap])y by this alone. Mrs A. Happy ! What affection can I have for a man, who has taken from me all that madi life dear; who has caused twenty years of the bit- terest grief? Such happiness would be misery, a thousand times greater than that which I now bear. Harold. You refuse at your peril. 3Irs A. I refuse. Harold. Very well. I'll give you time to reflect ; I shall soon return. If your decision then remains unchanged, something much more severe than you have ever experienced, lies in wait for you. Consider well. {exit c. Mrs A. What shall I do? accept his offer, .or resign myself to his tor- ture? I would sooner die than live with such a man. Tired of life, wear- ried with everything ; M'hy should I desire to live ? But I can never accept his proposal : for I should be more miserable then even than I am now. Something tells me to reject all his advances. If he could only be detected and Wrought to justice! but no, he is too shrewd for that. He will soon re- turn, and finding my decision unchanged, he will renew his cruelty, (hes- itates) I will flee from this })lace, and attempt to find another more con- cealed from Harold. I have nothing to carry except my poor torn clothes, these can soon be collected, and then I will depart. I must make haste, for it is uncertain when he will return, (puts on bonyict ajid shawl, about to exit c. Hearing a loud knock, she hastily takes off bonnet and shawl) There, that is Harold, now 1 I ought to have been quicker. 0, dear ! what shall I do? — And yet, he would not knock, would he? OUT ON THE WORLD. 17 Enter Nellie, c, exhausted and with the appearance of having been in the water ^ Nel. Please may I take shelter under your roof a short' time ? Our boat struck a rock, a short distance from the shore, and was dashed to pieces^ [Dearly all the passengers were lost; scarcely half a dozen will be saved. I, myself lost consciousness twice while floating on a piece of wreck, but I was so fortunate as to reach the shore in safety at last. This house being the only one in sight, I endeavored to reach iL as soon as possible. Mrs A. (aside) It is not Harold disguised in female clothing to deceive me is it? I hardly know how to take things, since he commenced his cruel- ty, I doubt everything lately. Perhaps he is employing some one to raise my expectations, and then suddenly break me down again ; he knows the- shock it would occasion would nearly kill me, and that is what he wants. I'll venture to ask her name, at least; and the port for which she is bound. (to Nellie) 0, dear ! I cannot bear to think of shipwreck. For what port are you bound? Nel. For Philadelphia. Mrs A. That is where I used to live. What is your name ? Nel. Well, my name was changed when I was very young, in order to make me forget it, but I remember it well ; it was Nellie Alden. I was sto- len from home twenty years ago, but I am now free, and in search of my parents. Mrs A. (aside and excited) An imposition from Harold surely ! (to Nel- lie) Leave me instantly ! It is not at all unexpected ! Harold sent you here. You are not my child, she perished years ago. Nel. But why do you speak of Harold? has he made you miserable too ? Harold was the man that took me from home. Mrs A. (aside) If she is not my child, perhaps I can get her sympathy, even if sent here by Harold. Nel. (greatly interested) Speak, for I desire to know your story ! Pray what is your name? Mrs A. My name is Laura Alden. (Nellie all excitement) Harold has deprived me of everything — my family, my property, all. Both children perished in a foreign country. I received this intelligence a short time ago from Harold himself. It is impossible for you to be my child, for she is dead. Nel. (aside) Is she my mother, and in this condition ? She spoke of her children ; if she means Harry, I am sure it is she. I'll ask her. (to Mn. Alden) You speak of your children. Who were the others beside your daughter ? Mrs A. He was not my own child ; his name was Harry Mansfield. Nel. (rushes to her mother and embraces her) My dear, dear, mother! I am your lost child. I did not perish, as Harold intended. Kind fortune has watched over me during this long, long time, I came very near being lost when so near you, but even now, the rock on which our ship struck, is fortunate for me, else perhaps, I could have never found you. Mrs A. (aside) It is truly Nellie ! How strange ! (to Nellie) My child, my child ! can it be that you have been preserved and restored to me ? I never expected to see you again. In a moment more, I should not have met you ; for I was about to flee"^ in order to avoid Harold. I have met mis- fortune upon misfortune since I lost you, and this has been made greater on account of my anxiety for you. You are not deceiving me, are you ? You are sure your name is Nellie Alden ? Nel. Yes, I am truly your daughter. Mrs A. Ah, yes ! I can see your old looks now. Nel. Harry was on board too. Mrs A. Harry ! Where is he ? He was not drowned, was he ? Nel. No. 1 left him on the beach, assisting others who were less fortu- nate than ourselves. Mrs A. He lives then ? Nel. Yes, and I must hasten and find him. IS OUT ON THE WO ELD. Mrs A. I will go with you. "We will find him and come back here, for Harold will shortly return to torment me ; but Harry will protect me, I know he will. Let us hasten. I thought it was Harold when I first heard YOU. {both about to exit, c. Enter Mr. Alden and Harry, c. iVeZ. Why, Harry 1 have you come? We were just going to find you. You do not know whom I have met here in this desolate region. Har. It is not unexpected to you, perhaps, whom I have met and recog- nized. You remember our conversation about the man on board, who look- • ed as your father used to. Nel. Yes, I remember, and Har, He is your father. Mrs A. Merciful heaven ! my husband, and alive I Nel. Harry, I have found mother, here she is. Mr A. My wife and child ! At last, at last ! Fortune has smiled on me at last. (takes Nellie by the hand, at the same time embraces Mrs. Alden. Nel. My dear father. Mrs A. My husband ! my boy ! {takes Harry by the hand) I thought you all had perished. Great is the misery I have endured since I last saw you. Great must have been yours too. This is indeed a strange meeting. It is just twenty years ago to-day since our last meeting. Strange, strange, that we should be brought together again at this time. Only to-night I was lamenting my fate, and wishing myself dead. But for the first time in twenty years has iDy grief been turned to joy. I can hardly believe my own eyes. My dear husband ! I supposed you perished on that last voyage. Mr A. True, my ship was wrecked, and 1 was the only one who sur- vived. I floated for two whole days, on a fragment of the wreck, without food, and without sufficient clothing. I was finally born to a hostile shore, where I was compelled to serve as a slave to the unfriendly and barbarous natives; subjected to all manner of indignities, until an"opportunity pre- sented itself for me to escape, which I took advantage of, and which was the means of restoring me to my family. No one rejoices more at this meeting than myself. Har. Long would be the story Nellie and I could relate of our unhappi- ness, since we were taken from home by that base wretch, Harold. I won- der if he still lives. If he docs Mr A. Harold ! ah, I see! it was a mystery to me, why I should meet you and Nellie here; you were stolen from home by Harold; but if Mrs A. Hush ! Harold called a short time ago, and offered me his hand in marriage. I refused. He departed, but will soon return, to ascertain if my decision remains the same. He has robbed me of my home, and he has taken advantage of everything in his power to make me miserable. Let us make a surprise party for him. Har. Harold will soon return ! let us give him a warm reception. Moth- er, you stay here, and await his coming. Father, Nellie and I will retire, and when Harold has proceeded far enough with his cruelty, we will inter- fere and surprise him. I hope that infernal Biddy will come with him. Mrs. A. It is' not at all likely that Biddy will come with him. Perhaps you had better withdraw, for it is time for him to return. Har. Come on let us prepare ourselves for Harold. {exit Harry, Nellie and Mr. Alden, L. Mrs. A. I did not suppose when Harold left, that I should be able to re- ceive him ill this way. He supposes my family dead, and that he has full sway over everything. Sadly disappointed he will be! 1 can now meet him with joy instead of sorrow. How glad I atn that I had not gone when Nel- ilie came. Here comes Harold now. Enter Harold and Biddy, c. Mrs A. {aside) I declare! Biddy is with him. Harry's wish will be •gratified. OUT ON THE WORLD. 19 Bid. 0, this is the phice where the hateful owld craitcher lives, is it ? Be my sowl ! that's her surely, [advancing toioardu Mrs. Alden) How d'ye do ye owld croakin' jade ! Ye're ciuitin' a different swell from what ye was once, ain't ye? Let's hear if yer voice is so coinmandin' as it u'sed to be! Spake, I tell ye ! {pulls Mrs. Alden' s nose) D'ye intend to mind or not? {Mrs. Alden pushes Iter off) Not much ye don't do that, if i'ln. myself, {about to seize her by the hair) I'll make ye Harold. Hold on, Biddy Bid. That's jest what I'm about to do, sir. Harold. But wait before you proceed, and I will find out whether she has changed her mind about marrying me. {to Mrs. Alden) How is it, my lady; have you decided to join yourself to me, and become happy ? Mrs A. {firmly) No, never ! Harold. Very well, Biddy will change your mind. Bid. All right, sir, that'll please me. {puts her face close to Mrs. Alden's) Ye're a ragged, contemptible lookin' owld baste. Don't ye wish ye could affoi'd to wear as good clothes as I ken ? Harold. Tell her about things that happened when you worked for her ; how she used to boss you, and make you do all manner of drudgery. Bid. Ah, yes ! D'ye recollect when ye left some dirty work for me to do one day, unci how I slyed yer childers away from ye? Yer fainily is all dead ; I have been the cause of it. Ain't ye sorry ye trated me so cruelly, now ? Spake out ! {loaits a moment^ then about to strike her. Harold. Wait, Biddy, I'll go and bring in the rope, and vve will bind and gag her, and leave her here to starve unless she consents to marry me. She seems to have changed since I was here before. I don't know what has come across her. Perhaps a few days of starvation will induce her to act in accordance with my wishes. I'll iind out what is tne matter with her. {exit c, to soon return with a rope. Mrs A. {aside) I think he will. Bid. I promised myself once that I'd have my vengeance onto ye some- time, and now I've the cbance. Trate me like a dog, will ye ! {shakes her fist) Ah-h-h-h, I ain't forgot it. If I'd knovv'd ye'd been here I should hev been here, and given ye hail columby, more'n once. It's rather fortunate that Harold come and got me. Mrs A. Yes, Biddy, it is very fortunate you are here at this time. Bid. Hoo-o-o! ye can spalce, can't ye? It's fortunate for me, as ye'U soon find out, but it's rather unfortunate tor ye. {grasps Mrs. Alden by the hair with one hand, and puts her fist in her face) Shall I punch ye right in yer nose ? Hey ? Ye owld baste ! {places her face close to Mrs, AAden's) Don't ye wish ye had the grand things ye once possessed ? Enter Harold, c, loith a rope. Harold. That is right, Biddy, torment her all you can. She don't ap- pear to be affected by our presence here ; but she knows she might as well take it one way as another, and so tries to conceal her feelings, although in exquisite misery all the time. We will tie her hands first. {about to tie her, but is interrupted by Mr. Alden, Harry and Nellie, 'who enter l. Mr A. My friend, I guess you have proceeded far enough with that ! Stop just where you are ! Don't you move out of your tracks ! Harold. Who are you? What right have you to interfere with my busi- ness? j^^ ^, You will very soon find out who I am, and what my rights are. Edward Harold, my wife has born your abuse long enough. The time is at hand when it must cease. You have had your time, now I shall have mine. Harold, {placing hand over his eyes) Can it be that James Alden lives, and appears here to overturn my plans! {to Mr. Alden) Who are they? From what place did they come ? so . OUT ON THE WORLD. Ear. We did not come from the South Pacific, sir, where you intended we should perish. We have been more fortunate than that, and stand here now, to show you that your plans are all broken, and to defend her, whom you have so cruelly persecuted, during our absence. Nellie, there is Biddy now. Harold, {aside, and confused) Have those children risen from the dead too? I cannot understand this. What course shall I pu>-sue ? {tc Biddj/) I guess it is time we were going, Biddy, it is getting rather late. Harold and Biddy about to exit c. Mr. Alden seizes him by the coat collar and throws him to the floor. Harry prevents Biddy from escaping, she resists. Mr A. No my good fellow, you must stay here for the present. Har. I don't 'believe I'd leave on so short notice as that. We are going to settle this matter soon. Harold, {rising to his feet and clenching his fist) There is one alternative, at least. Although you live, and have accidently found your wife, and you are now in her presence, that circumstance will afford you little pleasure; for her life is still in my hands; she must die by my hand before your very eyes, {draws revolver on Mrs. Alden, it is wrenched from hun by Mr. Alden. Larrie, dressed the saine as in act secoyid, appears in the door at c, lantern in hand. Lar. {aside) Be gory ! I wonder what the rumpus is about here, Mr A. It does not belong to you, sir, to make me and my family twice miserable, by such a fiendish act. Even this crime, attempted by you, will be sufficient to send you to the penitentiary ; time will verify this. The same rope which you intended should hold my wife in subjection, will serve a like office upon you. {assisted by Harry, he binds Harold, who resists them. Bid. {speaking very fast) 0, I never see sech heartless craitcbers in all me life. Here I hev to bear my own burdens and others too, and then to be trated in this way. I've always seen trouble iver since I wuz five years old. I niver was an evil-disposed craiteher, as every one knows. Why was it my fate to be met here by these cruel, overbearin' folks ? This hate- ful family was forever pokin' their dirty work onto me, and I thought I'd got rid on 'em, but now, they must stick their dirty noses in here now, and spile everything. I feel as if this is the death stroke to me; I know it is, I know it is. dear, have mercy on a poor innocent out-cast. Take pity and relave her In her wretchedness. Boohoo-o-o ! Lar. {aside — who has been loaiching operations) Sure and that sounds as Biddy used to 1 Perhaps 'lis her, and them two youngsters are the children I'm in search of, who knows? — Hoo-oo-o-o ! What a purty fule ye are, Larrie ! How can it be them, since they're only eight years old. Ye're not eo aisily fuled as that, are ye? I don'no whether it's best for me to go in there, or not, may be they'd sarve me as they did that chap. Mr. A. {having finished binding Harold) There, sir, we will not be trou- bled by your operations any more, {to Harry) Who is this woman he has brought with him ? Harry. Why, your old hou.sekeeper. Don't you remember her ? Mr. A. Housekeeper! Ah, yes; she is a prominent one in this affair, too, is she? Harry. Well, I should think she was. She is Harold's co-partner. Mr. A. She, too, deserves punishment, does she? Keep a sharp look- out and j)revent her escape. Lar. {aside) What did he say ? Harold's co-partner ! Harold! I knew a Harold once — he took those youngsters off, I'm lookin' arter. But that ainthim, I guess. Don't be fuled by appearances, Larry — let's take a look at that woman, {puts head cautiously in, and looks at her) Be me sovvl ! she surely resembles Biddy 1 She does look desperately like herself. This is a mighty queer cohappenstance, I'll vinture in, at least, and try me luck {en- ters) Gude evening to ye all, me friends 1 OUT ON THE WORLD. 21 Mr A. Who's that? Mrs A. What? Nel. Some one shipwrecked I Har. What now ! Bid. (sc7'eam.s) Lar. Don't be scared, I jist called to see if ye'd seen anything of a lad or a lassie nine years old— I've been lookin' arter 'em this twenty years: thus far, my search has been grievously unsuccessful. Can ye give me any in- formation concerning them ? -I O J ( ^ 3Irs A. Larry ! ■ Together. \$ ^^^ A Larry I ^ =0 Har. Larry 1 i "^ Nel. Larry ! Mr A. {advancing towards him) Why sir, you are Lar. ^ (setting doivn lantern, and doubling up his Jist) Howld on, sir, hands oft ! I'm a most desperate man, sir I I niver got caught in a box yet, and I'm not goin' to be trapped here. # Mr A. Whose children are you searching for ? Lar. Indade sir, the Cap'n's— Cap'n Alden's I I promised him once I'd be faithful, and I'm a goin' to be, too. Mr A . Those for whom you are searching, are before your eyes, J ^^^^\ ?Z^'^l^^J^\, ^^^^ • ^ ^^'^ ^^ ^^^ '^^' ^'^^- {i'^PPing Mr A. on the shoul- ., der) Ah-h-h-h--h ye're not sharp enough to catch me there, sir. The youngsters I'm lookin' for, are only nine years old. I guess ye'll not get any ropes round my legs to-night. Mr A. No, no, we don't want to do that. You are Larry Lineo-an, are you not? ® Lar. That's what They call me, sir. Mr A. You are looking for Nellie and Harry, are you not? Lar. Yes, sir, that I am. Mr A. Your search has not been in vain. They are here. They have been rescued by a kind providence. Nellie and Harry were nine years old twenty years ago ; that would make them twenty-nine vears old now. Lar. 0, sure and I hadn't thought o' that before, 'l know twenty and nine make twenty-nine. Let me put on me glasses and take a look at 'em. {puts on glasses, goes close to thein, gazes first at one then at the other) I'm sure there's a sort o' family resemblance there yet, but ye see, I've been al- most caught so many times that I was lookin' out for it here. I came withm one of not coming in at all, after I see ye fastening that chap, {goes up to Harold) And this is what yo;j call Harold, is it ? {shakes fist in Har- old's face) Ah-h-h-h-h, the villain is caught— but Biddv, where is she? O, here she is! How d'ye do, Biddy? How d've fale over this ? Bid. {fiercely) Shet yer head, ye infarnel, dirtv, contimptable, smut-fa- ced upstart ! , . jt ^ Lar. {laughing) 0, that sounds natural ! I thought it was you, Biddy, before I come in, I'll say no more to ye. It seems mighty sthrange to me that we should meet here in this way. But ye see, the Cap'n told me to take gude care of his family, and arter the little ones were taken, I set out lookin' arter 'em. To-ni^ht I was at my search as usual, and seeing this forlorn looking place, I thought 'twould be best to come here'and look : and "we can all see the result. ' Mr A. I guess you don't me, do you ? Lar. Know ye ! No I niver see ye before as I know of. How d'ye come mixed up in this fracas ? Mr A. Don't you know your best friend ? I am Captain Alden. Lar. Git out I Cap'n Alden sunk to the bottom of the sea years ago, ■M:rA. I came very near it Larry, but have been preserved through these long years. Lar. Presarvedl Shure and I niver heard that water was gude to pre- sarve folks m before, But, air, ye must have been puffed up horribly big to SS OUT ON THE WORLD. whin ye come out, the coroner and his jury must have had to set on ye a long time to take the bloat out. Mr A. No, no, Larrie I did not go to the bottom ; I floated on a, piece of the wreck, and at last reached the shore. Lar. 0, be jabers, I see through it now, it's mighty sthrange ye should come here the same time I did. If the misthress were only here, the fami- ly would be complate. Mr A. Here she is. Lar. Here! I niver in all my life see the like o' this, I feel so happy I could jump over the moon. Har. Many thanks to you, Larrie, for your persevering search for Nellie and me. \Ve were taken away by that villain, Harold, and placed in the care of a miserable old man and woman — froui there we were taken by the same vile man and placed on board a ship, that was going to the South Pa- cific: but before we reached our destination, the man in whose care we were, fell overboard and was drown#l. We were then kindly cared for by a gentleman to whom we told our story, who took us to his home in Belgium; educated us, and furnished us with money, by means of which we could re- turn, and search for our friends. But Mr Aldeu can tell a still more event- ful story. Mr A. Yes, it was my fate to be shipwrecked; and fall into the (hands ot savages on an island in mijl ocean, where ships seldom stop. Here I was compelled to serve as a slave; words fail to convey an idea of ray sufferings there: those only who have experienced the awful reality can have a conception of them. I had tried all manner of expedients by which I micht gain my freedom. The savages had made promises which they said they would fulfil when I had performed a certain amount of work which they, on account of ignorance, were unable to do ; but the fulfilment of these never came. One evening just before sunset, I chanced to spy a sail at great distance, I set out for it in a small skiff. The desire of once more seeing my family soon began to burn inore intensely; the determina- tion to leave the island, even if to find a watery grave, becoming stronger. A short time afterwards when all were retiring for the night, and my keep- er came to confine me, I was ready for him ; with one blow. of a missil ly- ing near, I knocked him senseless, and made my escape in safety. I row- ed vigorously for the ship, and at last reached it, and was taken on board That very same vessel proved to be the one on which Nellie and Harry were returning home ; and which foundered and we wore cast adrift here in this lonesome region. Larrie you have been faithful to the last moment ; for this you shall have your reward. I shall soon make an effort to recover my properly which that base wretch has taken away from us, of this you shall have a share. Lar. Much obliged to ye, Cap'n but I can support myself. Nel. 0, Mother ! £ have something to tell you. {goes and whispers to her Mrs A. Very well, I am satisfied with that. Speak to your father. i^dlie whispers to hint Mr A. Yes, no one can be more willing than L {io Harry) Harry, to you I am under obligations for so faithfully protecting my daughter, as a reward for this, she shall belong to you. Of her, you are entirely worthy, take her, she is youro. \ Mrs A. I once anticipated that it would sometime be well for me that I took Harry into our family. AVithout his presence with Nellie, and his care of her during these long, dreary years, perhaps I would not see her now, and by receiving him as a member of our family years ago, I now have the pleasure of receiving him as a husband for Nellie, a son of whom I may justly be proud. Lar. W-e-1-1 w-e-1-1 1 Faith, and they didn't look hardly big enough to do that, the last time I see 'em. It's all right though, I endorse that too; I always belaved in that myself, but I niver found anybody gude enough for OUT ON THE WORLD. 2S- me yet, or else I could niver get up pluck enough to ask 'em, I don't know which. JIar. I trust you will yet find some one to suit you, Larrie. Mr A. It affords me the greatest pleasure to be again in the presence of my family. Torn from one another when life was sweet, placed in mis- ery which could hardly be endured, and when almost Lar. {breaking in) 'Beg pardon, sir, for interrupting ye, but hould on a brafe moment, I've a word to say before ye finish. (rallies fist eoeii loith his head, and attempts to he poetic Advirsity's whirlwinds have hovered around, With their dark colored wings, they sent forth full many a beastly sound , But when their wings were broke and they, no longer could fly, Bejabers — the sunshine broke forth, and we've met here rejoicing, and I've a notion to be up and hit Harold right in the eye. {bows to Mr. A. Mr A. Let us all be thankful that we are again together, and have, the satisfaction that our persecutors will now suffer the penalty which they just- y deserve. R. .Harry. NelliCf Biddy near c. Harold lying on floor front c. Mr. and Mrs Alden, and Larrie, L. CURTAIN. N". B. Companies who wish, can change the wording of the Play in the last act, so as to make Harry and Nellie about twenty years of age. <^^m-^^^^ To Our Customers. Amateur companies frequently have trouble in procur'ng Plays well adapted to their wants, frequently ordering perhaps five dollars worth in single copies, before anything suitable can be found. All this can be done away with. Our catalogue embraces plays suitable for any and all companies, and if our friends will write to us, stating the re- quirments of their companies, there need be no trouble in this line, at least. If a tem- peranc society wants plays, we have something for them. If a company wants sorae- thing which is very funny, we can suit them, In fact we have dramas, farces, comedies and tragedies, which will suit you. Enclose 15 cents per copy for as many sample copies as you may need, and we guarantee to suit you, if you will state the size of your compa- ny, and whether best adapted to the serious or funny. Give us a trial, at least. A. D. AMES, Pub., Clyde, Ohio. AMES' SERIES OF STANDARD AND MINOR DRAMA. The Biter Bit The Mischievous Nigger The Beauty of Lyons The Gentleman in Black The Ladv of Lyons The Studio The Vow of the Ornani The Better Half The Bria:ands of Calabria The Serf The Poacher's Doom The Hunter of the Alps Thirtv-Three Next Birthday The Painter of Ghent The Mistletoe Bough The Miller of Derwent Water The Bewitched Closet That Mvstenous Bundle The Two T. J's. Ten Nights in a Bar-Room Three Glasses a Day That Boy Sam The False Friend The Sham Pro essor The Reward of Crime The Deuce is in Him The Coming Man Twain's Dodging Vow of the Ornani When Women Weep Won at Last Wooing Under Difficulties Wrecked Which Will He Marry READ THESE INSTRUCTIONS. >vr~^ A'o plays exchanged. Xo plays bent C. 0. D. Xo orders filled icithout the cash. Xo discounts on a number of plays. Xo plays sent subject to return. In remiting. send Post office order if possible, otherwise send a registered letter, or draft on New York. Small amounts may be sent in 1, 2, or 3 cent postage stamps with but little risk. Do not waste your own, and our time by asking us if we can send you a certain play, but enclose your money, 15 cents per copy. If it is published we will send it, otherwise we will notify you*, and you can instruct us to send something else, or return the money. Please notice that we will not fill orders by telegraph, from parties unknown to us, and will not send plays to any one C. 0. D. A complete descriptive Catalogue, giving the number and des- cription of characters, description of scenery, and a brief synopsis of the plot, will be sent free to any one. Our books may be ordered from any respectable bookseller in the United States and Canada. However if you have trouble in getting '-Ames' Edition" send directly to us. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS Af D. AMES; POBLTSHI OT/R BUSI.KESS--WH:fLT wk uu. PLATS We sell everything in the line of dramas and farces, and call tho attention of our, numerous pntrons to our own list. We think it em- braces plav which will suit either professional or amateur companies, it however you need something, published elsewhere, do not hesitate to send us your orders— our stock IS very large, and we fill promptly.- Stocks ot every publisher on haiid. LETTEBS OF INQUIRY unsv-'ered promptly, and we solicitcorrespond- ence If the business apdh which you write concerns you alone, enclose a 3 cent stamp for reply. Amateurs who are puzzled upon any questions relative to the stage will be answered explicitly, and to the best of our abil- ^ ^idANUSCRIPT PLATS. Parties who have Mss. to dispose of should write to us. We will pq,bli'8h whatever may be meritorious, on terms which will be satisfactory.^ SHEET MUSIC. Orders for shdet music, or music books will be re- ceived and filled as promptljy as possible. C^ 2^^ iOG^t^^'S will be sent free to any address. Send a postal card, with youraddress,^nd the catalogue will be sent by the next mail. HOW TO ORDER. It would perhaps seem to every one that any di- rections as to 'how to order' plays was entirely superfluous; but not so. We have many instances, and remember to have been severely censured by parties, some cf whom failed to sign their name to their order, or tailed to write the stnte, etc. In the first place, begin your order with the name of your post office, county and state. If you order from our list, it is not nec- essary to designate, only by giving the name of the play ; but If from the lists of other publishers, state the publishers name, if you know it. Do not write your letters of inquiry on the same sheet with your orders, and make the order altvays as brief as possible. When completed do not fad to .sibn your name very flainly.. Attention to these rules will ensure he filling of vour orders, by return mail. Postage stamps of the denomination of 1, 2 and 3 cents, will be taken in any amount less than $3.00. PLAYS TO SUIT COMPANIES. Amateur companies frequently hare trouble in procuring Plays well adapted to their wants, frequently ordering perhaps five dollar's worth in single copies, before anything suitable can be found All this can be done away with. Our catalogue embraces play, suitable for any and all companies, andif our friends will write to us,state- ine the requirements ol their companies, there need be no trouble, in this line at least if a temperance society wants plays, we have something for them. If a company wants something which is very funny, vve can suit "■' them In f-ict, we have dramas, farces, tragedies and comedies which will suit vou Enclose 15 cents per copy, for as many copies as you may need, -and we guarantee to suit you, if you will state the size of your company, ■^and wheth r best adopted to the serious or funny. Give us a trial at least. MAGNESIUM TABLEA U LIGHTS. There is scarcely a person who has not been annoyed by the smoking of colored fires, which are so otten used on tableaux, and whole scenes in dramas have been ruined by the coughinraidno.'se always attendant on their use. , We earnestly recom- mend the use of the Magnesium lights. They can be ignited with a comhion ■ ma ch, and burn with wonderful brilliancy. There is no danger in their use; they make no smoke and are cheap. Price, 25 cents each, by ^n^ail, post paid. Those who do not know how to burn them, will be instructed by addressing the publisher. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 910 184 8