F195 m • .•«•' '-^^ Ni* ^^'J*. I* V ..'.i:.'* c. • •• • » 1 7^ '•• * ^> .0 i^^ 2e. • »•• v> • • • • ^^ % *o "*«'••** ^v*^ ... — you're a perfect ^^case" yourself- — ha ! ha ! Col. C. Ha ! ha ! ha ! [^Aside.'] Lookout Charley, the tables are turning I Sharp. ^Aside.'] Confound the woman — she^s as sharp as a No. 6 needle. One word in reply, madam — you must know that lawyers are like doctors — they never like to practice on themselves. Mrs. S. Ha! ha! ha! Col., I see I shall have to brighten up my wits. Mr. Sharpsteel, you say you have lost your practice — are you sure that you ever had any to lose? Sharp. Quite sure of it, madam, quite sure of it. Had an extensive one when I left home, but I have been de- tained here so long by the attractions of metropolitan life, that I fear I am in the same predicament as yourself. 3frs. S. How so? Sharp. I have lost my ^' better half. '' Col C. Ha ! ha ! ha ! lAside.'] Oh, murder ! Charley, you've struck a vital part ! Mi's. S. Col,, your friend is certainly the most remark- able specimen of the gemis homo which I have met in the whole "menagerie" — I think I had better "beat a re- treat" in time to "cover my wounded V Col. C. Oh, no ! Stick to your colors like a true heroine"! 48 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES \^Act III. Shai'p. [^Aside.'] That's an easy matter when they are well riihbed in. [^Pointing to his cheek.~\ Col. G. Never give up the ship, madam — nail your colors to the mast. Sharp. \_Aslde.'] They are nailed there already ! Well, Mrs. Singleton, let me hope that this gallant ^' passage at arms" may be the prelude to a more cordial acquaintance. It is so rare a treat to meet with such a combination ctf wit, beauty, and intelligence — really, you must allow your Washington friends to appropriate you for the entire season, as an invaluable condiment to the milk-and-water small-talk and insipid monotony of our fashionable cir- cles. Mrs. S. Oh ! Mr. Sharpsteel, you do me too much honor — allow me to return the-complim-ent at compaund interest. Indeed, to be candid, a gentleman of your ac- complishments is almost as rare here, as a plain Mister ^mong so many Colonels — ha! ha! Sharp. I see you are determined to outdo me in com- pliment. Mrs. S. And why should I not? you have outdone me in repartee — ^you will not deny me at least one triumph ; besides, there is not so much merit in my triumph — it is so very easy to compliment, Mr. Sharpsteel; almost as ■easy as — as — telling a y?6/ ha! ha! Sharp. Ah ! then I am to ^understand that your com- pliments are like rare ornaments — to be admired, but not worn. Mrs. S. Oh, no ! you can wear them — that is — pro- vided they — -Jit ! Sharp. [Aside.'} What a tantalizing creature ! I won- der what she really thinks of me ? 3Irs. S. Col., what has become of your ancient friend .<]apt. Smitii — ^is he a/live yet ? Col. C. Oh, certainly ; why do you ask the question ? J/?*s. S. Because the last time I saw him he was in immi- nent danger of sicallowing his own head ! Col. C. and Sharp. Ha ! ha ! ha ! Sharp. There comes his Captainship now — but his head, however, is evidently in its natural position. Scene IIL'\ OF Washington life. 49 Enter Capt. Smith. Capt. S. \_Glancing at SharTcer."] What! he here? the impudent scoundrel ! \^Approaches Mrs. Singleton.'] Mrs. Singleton, your most obedient servant — going to " trip it on the light fantastic toe ? " Mi's. S. Yes, Captain, provided you will be my part- ner ? Capt. S. Oh, no ! don't believe in your modern dances — no ma'm. In my young days a dance was a dance, and no ^'make believe" — it developed the muscles — circulated the blood, and exhilirated the spirits. We didn't walk up, look each other in the face, and then walk back again without doing anything. We didn't bob 'up and down in your polkas and schottishes as if we had tlie St. Situs's dance in our nether extremities I no, ma'm ! your modern dances are like everything else now-a-days — they are bogus — all bogus, ma'm. Too slow in jour dances, and too fast in everything else! Mrs. S. I fear. Captain, your antiquarian predilections will compel us, in spite of your youthful appearance, to place you on the " retired list" of old fogies ! ha ! ha ! Oapt. S. Old fogies ? I tell you, madam, that in this age of inflated hum buggery and top-heavy go-aheaditive- ness, I glory in the title of old fogy ! If I don't — TU swal- low my head! Excuse my bluntness, ma'm — Jack Smith's a rough old soldier; the truth acts on him like champagne in a bottle : draw the cork, and it must pop out! Mrs. S. No apology, Captain — honesty, like charity, "covereth a multitude of sins" — but I trust your preju- dices are not so strong as to prevent your honoring us with your presence, at least in the dancing room? Capt. S. Not at all, madam, not at all — altho' I can't join your church, I'll make one of the congregation — and when I see your elegant figure distorting itself in the polka — violating all the laws of natural grace and poetry of mo- tion—I shall wish that you had been born forty years be- fore, when you might have found a partner, both for the dance and for life, who would have .been worthy to mate your grace and beau^ ! 60 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES \_Act III. Mrs. S. Oh, Captain your compliments are overpower- ing. Capt. S. I thought so — then I'll take my leave, in order to facilitate your speedy recovery — [hoivSfl [aside,'\ talk about old fogy ism, there's gallantry of the old school for you — if it isn't, 77^ swallow my head I \_Retires to company. Mrs. S. Ha ! ha ! Col., your antique friend with the very white head and very red face reminds me of Thomp- son's seasons. Col. a Why so .? Mrs. S. He's a living edition of winter and summer ; \^points to head and face,~\ ha I ha ! ha ! Col. C. Pray, Mrs. Singleton, what title have you con- ferred on our friend Mr. Noall ? 3Irs. S. Oh, I call him the " Washington Walking En- cyclopedia.^' Col. C. Ha ! ha ! a most appropriate title. Sharp. To-night's edition has not appeared yet, I be- lieve. Col. C. Oh, it will soon be issued in due form, no doubt. Sharp. By the way, Mrs. Singleton, I have a rich joke on Mr. ''Know-all-about-it" — I met him this evening, and asked him if he had heard of the very sudden and unex- pected marriage of our friend the Col., here ; he replied, as usual, that he ''knew all about it,'' and proceeded to give me the details of the whole affair. Mrs. S. Ha ! ha ! That is certainly most characteristic. Enter NoALL. Sharp. Ah, he has just entered — excuse me a moment. [_Meets and salutes Noall, and speaks aside to him.'\ Just in time, Noall. Is not that a blooming couple for you ! you ought to offer your congratulations — 'tis the eti- quette, you know. Noall. Oh yes ! — know all about it. [^Approaches Mrs. Singleton.'] Ah ! Mrs. Cecille, allow me to offer you my most cordial congratulations — altho'you have lost the single^ you wiil ( vcr retain the ton, [a la Francais.'] Mrs. S- Well, sir! what means this ill-placed jest ? ex- Scene III.'] OF WASHINGTON LIFE. 51 cuse me for saying that your wit has hardly point enough to redeem its impertinence, Nball. [^Con/used.'] Why madam, I — you — [turning to Sharpsteel,'] Mr. Sharpsteel, how is this ? Sharp. Oh, I " know nothing about it !'' I never told you they were married — I merely asked you this evening if you had heard the report, and you said you " knew all about it " — and on the strength of that, you have, with the kindest intentions, no doubt, offered your congratula- tions. Mrs. S. and Col. O. Ha! ha! ha! Mrs. S. Ah, Mr. Noall — you didn't ^' know all about it" this time. Col. Cecille. Ha ! ha ! I say, Noall, you have lost your ^' points!^' Noall. Why, bless your unsophisticated souls — I — I was only helping to keep up the joke — had the points on my fingers' end — knew all about — everything about it!' All Ha! ha! ha! Mrs. S. A perfect Falstaff at getting out of a close corner. Sharp. Well, Mrs. Singleton, I trust you will, as well as my good friend Noall, pardon the part I have taken in an innocent joke — and, also honor me with your hand for. the first cotillion. Mrs. S. With pleasure, sir, provided the heart is not W keep its company. Sharp. Oh! I can afford to wait a very Jong time for" so rich a prize ! [Leads Mrs. Singleton to the dance in an adjoining room.~\ Col. G. I say, Noall — there's the lovely Miss Bangs, all alone — a fine opportunity. Noall. Oh, yes ! but she's verdant — hasn't the points. Col. C. No — but she has the dimes — plenty of fat prairie land — rich and easy conquest. Noall. Oh, ah ! indeed ? [eyes her through his glass ;] a blooming flower of the prairie — quite verdant — good ma- terial tho' — wants a little finishing — oh, I'll soon make her know all about it. [Engages with Miss Bangs, and escorts her to the dance — Col. Cecille leads in Miss Emma Dela- ney, with marked attention, which attracts the notice of 52 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES ^Act IV. Sharker and Mrs. JBangs^-'-as the company are retiring j Captain S. approaches Sharker.'] Capt. S. Excuse me, sir; a word with you, if you please. [They advance in front — company retire.'] Sharker. Well, Captain, I am at your service — ^by the by, you are looking as young as when I first met you ten years ago. Capt. S. [^Looking at him sternly for some moments.] You infernal scoundrel ! you oily-tongued, double-faced hypocrite ! Shar. Why, what means this outrageous insult, Capt. Smith ? Capt. S. How dare you to show your face in the house of that man whom you have betrayed and sought to ruin ? Shar. Capt. Smith, I desire you to distinctly under- stand that I came here by invitation of the Honorable Mr. Bangs — a member of Congress, sir, and as good a man as any in the company. Capt. S. Look in my eye, you beast ! My name's Capt. Jack Smith — what I say, I do ! follow me ! or by the Heaven above, I'll blow you to the Devil, where you be^ long ! [seizes him ccmtemptuously by the nose — leads him out, and returns.] Capt. S. Jack Smith, you are right! you have done your duty to your friend and ta society — ^the law of your country couldn't descend low enough to reach such rascali- ty ! [Retires to dancing room,.] END OF ACT III. ACT IV. Scene I. — Public street — Enter Sharpsteel and Nball. Shaypsteel. Were you in the House when Blane gave Cecille the lie? Nball. Oh yes, know all about it. Had a chronic affec- tion of the heart against each other since the beginning of the session. Hot debate yesterday — Cecille alluded to certain members bribing the menials of the press to do their dirty work outside of the House: Blane took it Scene 11.} of Washington life. 63^ up — gave Cecille the lie — repeated it with the participial adjective "damned" by way of postscript — that's the whole of it — know all about it ! Sharp. This is a serious matter — excuse me, Noall, I must learn more about it. [^Uxit. Nball. That chap takes to a fight as naturally as a fish takes to water, and my individual opinion is, if he putg his finger in the pie, it will have a strong taste of gun- powder. Don't believe in duels myself — know all about 'em — bad diplomacy — generally got up by third parties for the sport — like my friends very well, but can't afford to turn my body into a target for their amusement. . . . Ah ! here comes Brown. Brown's a tailor — can't afford to cut him tho' — has the ^^ points" on me — owe him a big bill — must give him a touch of diplomacy — nothing like diplo- macy — great science — know all about it ! Enter Brown. Brown. Ah, Mr. Noall, do you know a Mr. Sharker ? Nball. Oh yes ; — sharp chap — knocked me out of $100 at faro one night — know all about him ! ~ Brown. Is his paper good ? Noall. Wouldn't take it myself without the V's or X's on it. Brown. Well, the fact is, I've got a note of his with the Secretary of the Treasury's endorsement — and as I've just heard some hard things against the man, I want to satisfy myself about the endorsement. Now, as you're acquainted with all the big folks, I'd take it as a great favor if you would inquire into this matter for me. Noall. My dear Brown, nothing would afford me more pleasure than to assist an honest man like yourself under such cirumstances. We will call at once on the Secre- tary, and if he be come-at-able, I'll present the note my- self, and — we'll soon know all about it ! [^Exeunt. Scene II. — Parlor in Col. Delaney^s house as he/ore. Enter Mrs. Singleton. Mrs. S. Well ! has it come to this at last : that I, who have tyrannized over so many victims, should in the end become a victim myself ! I, who have had all the purer 54 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES \_Act IV. instincts of my woman's nature crushed out of me — forced into a mercenary marriage, by mercenary parents, from mercenary motives — "sold, and got my price" — / would now give up all — wealth, station, life itself — all but my honor — to win that man's heart ! But he knows not this — no ! he thinks I am brilliant, but cold and passionless — oh, Cecille ! Cecille ! could you but break through the barriers of a false education, and see my real woman's na- ture — ^you would love me — I know you would love me ! And am I to be thwarted here — here, where I have poured forth all the smothered affections of years ? No ! he must be mine, and mine only ! I will not indulge this foolish jealousy. What ! prefer a simple, uncultivated woman — a mere silly school-girl — to a lady of my position and ac- complishments — with all the rich experience of a ripe womanhood ? no I it is impossible ! I cannot, will not, believe it ! , : Ente?' Mrs. Bangs. Mrs. B. Ah, Mrs. Singleton, I was jest lookin for you; I declare I never seen anything like the bare-faced im- ^ic^-dence of these boarding-house keepers — there's that pert upstart, Emma Delaney, actually thinks herself as good as a member of Congress's daughter ! Sets herself up in the parlor, and takes up all Col. Cecille's time to herself — I never seen sitch im-pit?-dence in all my life. Mrs. S. Indeed, my dear Mrs. Bangs, this girl is of so little consequence, she has scarcely attracted my attention — these little annoyances are common, you know, in all boarding-houses. It is probable, too, that the CoL is "making believe" to her, only to draw out somebody else — ha ! ha I Mrs. B. Well, it really does look like it; for it is on- possible that a member of Congress could ever think of looking down on a mere boarding-house keeper's daugh- ter. Mrs. S. Very true. By the by, Mrs. Bangs, we are making up a party for the levee to-night — will you not join us ? Mrs. B. Certingly — the very thing I was goin to^r- pose myself. Scene IL'\ of Washington life. 55 Mrs. S. I have just had a new dress completed for the occasion — oh, it's a perfect love of a dress ! 3Irs. B. My ! You don't say so ! how I should like to take a look at it. Mrs. S. Indeed ? then come with me to my room, and I will show it to you. [^Exeunt Mrs. S. and B. Enter Emma Delaney, with a looTc of deep dejection. Emma. Heavens ! what a life I am doomed to drag out — nothing but work, work — from morning until night — but this is not all — labor of the body I could bear without a murmur — but to have the most sacred feelings of my nature continually lacerated by the treatment of these two women : the coarse insolence of one, and the overbearing pride of the other. And yet I dare not murmur — my poor old father depends on them for his bread — I am but a mere boarding-house keeper's daughter. Oh, Heaven \ that I should be doomed to such a life ! . . . And I was foolish enough, in my girlish dreams, to picture him as a lover — he, a member of Congress, with wealth and posi- tion to command the proudest match in the land — ^yes — and that brilliant, gifted, but false-hearted woman using all her wily arts to entrap him — and I a poor hoarding' house keeper's daughter — oh, fool ! fool ! Enter CoL. Cecille. CoL C. Good morning. Miss Emma; we missed the pleasure of your company at breakfast this morning — were you indisposed ? Emma. I thank you. Col., yes; I have felt quite un- well — it may be a cold — I trust I shall soon be better. Col. C. If it be a cold, it must be quite a stubborn one, for I have noticed that your health has been impaired foi some time past. I fear the duties of your present posi- tion have proved too great a burden for you. Emma. '\^With a faint smile. 2 Oh, well — I trust I shall, after a while, become acclimated. You are looking uncommonly well yourself. Col. Col. C. Ah, indeed ? Mrs. Singleton has just antici- pated you in that compliment. 56 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES ^Act IV. Emma. Mrs. Singleton ? oh, of course — she is a lady of taste, and her opinion of your jpersonelle is already well known. Col. C. Indeed ? ha ! ha ! By the way, have you heard that we were going to be married ? Emma. Married ? no ! I have not heard that ! Col. C. \^Aside.'] If I could only be convinced that she loves me for myself, and not for my wealth or station. Miss Emma, you must know that I have great confidence in your good judgment and sincerity of character. Emma. Oh ! you compliment me too highly, sir. Col. C. Will you allow me, as a friend, to speak frankly to you ? Emma. Certainly, Col. — and I trust I shall prove wor- thy of the confidence. Col. C. Your natural perceptions of character, together with your daily associations with Mrs. Singleton, qualify you for a correct judgment in the matter : do you feel im- pressed, from your knowledge of her character, that she is fitted to make me happy as her husband ? Emma. Col. Cecille, this is a delicate question, which would give me pain to answer — you will please excuse me. Col. C Miss Emma, I assure you, honestly, that noth- ing is farther from my desire than to give pain to one whom I esteem so highly — but, as I before remarked, I have the utmost confidence in your judgment — and this is a question which involves my happiness for life — I will, however, press you no farther, if it be not agreeable. Emma. Col. Cecille, I cannot persist in denying your request. Justice to my own convictions compels me to answer you in perfect truth and candor : that answer is — no ! never ! I think I know you both : neither of you can harmonize with the other. She is brilliant and accom- plished — and yet she is not your peer — she can never really appreciate you — ^you are too noble — too noble for that woman ! no ! no ! Col. C. [^Aside.'] My life on it — she loves me ! Dear Emma, I will disguise no longer — I love, deeply and de- votedly — not Mrs. Singleton, but — Emma — Emma Dela- ney! Scene IIJ^ OF WASHINGTON LIFE. 57 Emma. Oh! Col. Oecille! Col. C. Aye ! you, and you alone — dearer than all the world to me ! Long, long have I loved you. Dear Emma, I will tell you my heart's sweet secret. Two years ago I happened in a gallery on the avenue, \_TaMng out da- guerreotype,'] when my eye fell accidentally on this daguer- reotype — do you recognise it ? Emma. [^Starting hack with siirprise.] Ah I it is — it is myself ! Col. C. So soon as I caught the expression of those eyes, I felt in my inmost soul that I had met the being whom I had yearned for and dreamed of for years ! that the soul which gleamed through those eyes was a part of my own — the soul of my soul I — I inquired from the pro- prietor of the gallery your name — he could give me no information — I succeeded in inducing him to part with the likeness — for twelve months I sought out the original — and at length found it — found it, and compared it with this — and, in my fond fancy, the counterfeit copy seemed to blush at the comparison ! And oh ! dear Emma ! if I could but know that you loved me — loved me for myself alone — loved me with a love like my own — high, holy, almost divine — I would ask no other heaven ! Emma. Love you ? oh God ! with a love that has been an agony ! Love you ? look at this faded cheek — a new life is breathed in me. In a few days you shall see a natural bloom upon it, brighter than the rose ! Love you ? oh, Cecille I Cecille I Col. C. \_Embraci7ig her."] God bless you, dearest Em- ma ! God bless you for those words ! — oh, rapture ! I can now walk the earth as Adam walked paradise before the fall ! The good angel has at last rolled the stone from the sepulchre ! the old dreams of the past are rising — rising from their grave of years — and they shine like sun- beams around me ! Too much — too much bliss for poor mortality ! Enter Mrs. Singleton, unobserved ; sees Col. Cecille and Emma, and starts hack suddenly. 58 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES ^Act F. Mrs. S. \_Aside.'] God ! that I should be doomed to wit- ness such a scene ! [ Withd7'aws. Capt. Smith. [^Without.l This way, Tonawaha, this way. \^Emma and Col. Cecille retire apart. Enter Captain Smith and Tonawaha. Capt. S. Good morning, Col. — well met — Fve got a subject here for your Hon. " Committee on Indian Af- fairs. '' Tonawaha, this one great white chief from big wigwam ; [^Pointing towards the Capitol ;] he good friend to red man. Tonaicaha. Ah ! how do — how do. Capt. S. There^s a specimen of manhood for you — none of your civilized hot-house plants — but a genuine native flower of the forest — knew his father, old ''Big Thunder," before him — fought with him three days off and on in the swamps of Florida — grit to the back bone — if he wasn't — I'll swallow my head ! Col. C Talk English, my friend? Ton. Oh, yes, me talk little bit English. Capt. JS. There he stands, Col. — a living monument of the wrongs of his people — son of a great chief — owner of thousands of acres — gagged by your Government — cheated by its agents — and now shivering at the doors of our great halls of legislation — pleading for a poor pittance until his hair is wet with the dews of the night ! There he stands — look at him, and blush for your color ! Col. C. Well Capt., this is an unfortunate state of things, but I don't see how it can be otherwise. Progress is the eternal law of nature — the Anglo-Saxon race must go onward. If the Indian race will not or cannot assimi- late, they must go back. Those who cannot go ivith the tide, must sink under. The Government, I conceive, is as just as the case will admit. It allows them a fair price — ratified by mutual treaties. Cajyf. S. Fair price ? Brass rings and rotten whiskey ! Treaties ? Put a pistol to a man's breast, and ask him po- litely to hand you his purse ! No, sir ! Jack Smith knows what he's talking about — wasn't in the everglades of Florida three years for nothing. I haven't time or occasion to ar- Scene 11.1 ^^ WASHINGTON LIFE, 59 gue tlie question now, but I will say this : when the secret archives are opened at some future day — when the bloody chapter of Indian wrongs is given to the world — my word for it — it will make a proud nation blush ! Ton. Ugh ! Tonawaha want to talk. Pale-faces say big words — me not no big words— me no little words — me no little what you talk. Pale-faces vair bad to red man. Great Spirit give us plenty land — big hunting grounds : Pale-faces come, take our land, and drive us way ! Pale- faces give us hot red water, which make our heart feel bad, and burn us up ! ugh ! Den dey bring us good book, to tell bout Great Spirit, and make us good. Ah ! I see other book white man write — ugh ! bad pictures ! vaire bad pic- tures ! I see one pale-face — he tomahawk, he burn, he kill other pale-face, 'cause he no believe in his Great Spirit, ugh ! Indian no do dat ! Capt. S. That's a clincher ! Ton. Long time go, Great Spirit send pale-faces one good chief — he tell you no cheat — no steal — he tell you many good tings — what you do? you nail him to big crooked wood, [cwssi7ig his ariws,] and he die! Ugh I Indian no do dat ! Capt. S. If that ain't a "ten-strike," I'll swallow my head I Ton. Tonawaha' s heart feel hot — he want to talk no more. [ Turns to Emma.~\ Ah ! squaw coweeshisheen ! squaw coweeshisheen ! \_Indian for heautifid.'] Capt. S. That's my pappoose, Tonawaha. [Aside to Col. C.~\ I say, Col., he doesn't know I'm anoZj bachelor — they don't have old bachelors among Indians — it's a civilized institution — ha ! ha ! ha ! Ton. [ Taking Emma's hand, and examining her rings and bracelet.'] Oh! pretty! pretty! Indian like squaw: squaw no like Indian ? Emma. Oh, yes ! Indian good man — squaw like Indian. Ton. Ah ! [patting her gently on her head,"] ochee ! ochee ! ocheeokee ! Squaw no talk Indian ? No. Dat mean squaw make red man's heart feel good ! Indian love squaw — squaw no love Indian? No; Indian ugly man. Squaw love great white chief; [points to Cecille — seats 60 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES \^Act V. Jiimself on floor hyher side;'\ no! no! squaw no love ugly red man ! Enter Mr. No all. Nball. Ah! good morning: why, bless me, what is all this ? Tableau vivant — as I am a living man I And is this a real live Indian — one of your verdant children of the forest, \eyeing Tanawaha sniper ciliovbsly 'with his ^^ quiz- zing" glassj2 why, he must be taking his first lesson in the art of love. [ Tonaioaha rises with an air of of- fended dignity, and looks Noall sternly in the eye.'] Nball. Why, what means this impertinence ? have you no better manners than to stare thus at a gentleman, you ill-bred savage? Ton. Savage! hah! [seizes Nball hy the throat — Capt. JS. and Col. C. catch Tonaicaha hy each arm — he releases his hold upon Noall — dashes Col. C. and Capt. S. hack., and renews his grasp upon Noall, who is evidently suffo- cating.'] Emma. [Laying her hand gently on Tonawaha^s shoid- der.] Tonawaha ! no ! he is squaw's friend — squaw say no! Ton. [Releasing his hold.] Squaw, say you her friend — Indian love squaw — Indian cut off his head for squaw: [gesture,] you say you gentleman — you one little damn white dog — ugh ! [Exit Noall indignantly., Ton. [To Emma, very humbly.] Indian angry — In- dian bad — squaw hate Indian — Indian feel vaire sorry. Emma. No, squaw not hate Indian — Indian be good man, then squaw like Indian much. Ton. Ah ! good ! good ! Cajjt. S. Tonawaha ! time up — must go to big wigwam and see Great Father. Ton. Yes — I come. [Approaches Emma, and takes her hand.] Tonawaha go way — way back over big river to his tribe — he see pretty white squaw not any more ! not any more ! [Evinces deep emotion.] Emma. Here, Tonawaha, take this : [places ring on his finger] — white squaw like red man — give red man this. Scene 1IL'\ or WASHINGTON LIFE. 61 Ton. Oh! pretty! pretty! coweesliislieen ! when Tona- waha far way in big woods — in his wigwam, near the set- ting sun, he see dis, and he tink of pretty white squaw all de time — all de time ! Good bye ! \_pattmg her on the head J as before] — ochee ! ochee ! ocheeokee ! Tonawaha see pretty white squaw not any more — not any more ! ^Exeunt Capt. S. and Tonawaha. Cecille. My darling, noble Emma ! Even the rude un- tutored child of the forest loves you — how dear, then, should you be to your Cecille's heart ! \_Emhraces her.] I will leave you now, sweet love ; we will meet again this evening — and then you will name the happy day — farewell. [^Kisses her — Exit. Emma. \_Ahstract€dl^.] Am I dreaming, oh ! am I dreaming ? Was not that Cecille's form ? was not that Cecille's voice ? Yes! yes! the rich music of those words still rings in my ear — he loves me ! he loves me ! — oh ! how beautiful is this earth now ! A few moments since, and life seemed so poor, so barren — I would have given it away for the mere asking — and now, I would not barter my estate for a rich kingdom ! He loves me ! he loves me ! oh, heart, be still I there is rest for thee g-t last ! lExiU Scene III. — A private parlor in Col. Delaney's house. Col. Cecille and Sharpsteel seated. Sharp, Cecille, you wish me to speak frankly, as a friend, on this subject? Col. C I do, most assuredly. Sharp, Then I regret to say that I see no escape con- sistent with honor : you must challenge this man to mortal combat ! Col. C. Sharpsteel, listen to me for one moment": one of the cardinal principles of this boasted code of honor is the idea of equality — "open field and fair fight," as the phrase runs. Now, in this case there is no equality at all — Blane is known to be a practiced shot — / am no shot at all — if I survive the fight, I will be'.publicly ostracised — doomed to my political grave — while he will but receive 62 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES [Act V. fresh laurels from his constituents. Again : Blane is en- cumbered with no immediate family ties — while I am almost on the eve of my union with one whose whole hap- piness, I solemnly believe, is centered in myself. One word more : This man has perpetrated a gross wrong upon me — must I, in addition to that wrong, allow him the oppor- tunity of putting a hot bullet through my body ? I don't see the philosophy of it. Sharp. My dear Cecille, this is a question of honor, not of philosophy — members of Congress can't afford to be philosophers — your high public position surrounds you with peculiar relations — those relations bring you under the jurisdiction of this code of honor: by that code you will be judged, and no other. Again I repeat, you must fight! Col. C. Sharpsteel, you know me too well to suspect me of mere personal motives in this matter — but there is one awful consideration which overshadows and shuts out all others — Emma Delaney ! In a few days I am to lead her to the sacred altar, and unite her soul with mine — my God ! suppose instead of the music of the marriage bells, she should hear the muffled wail of the funeral bells! Sharpsteel! I am ready to do all that a man of honor should do — make any sacrifice — but my poor, darling Emma ! she is dearer to me a thousand times than my own life! Sharp. Aye ! but there is one thing should be dearer still than life, and all else besides — your honor! Col. C. [Excitedly.'] Who spoke of honor! Sharp. I spoke of honor! your honor! This man, Blane, has given you the lie — has grossly insulted you before the whole country — and through you he has insulted your constituents and your native State ! there is no time now to indulge the weakness of humanity — ^you must call him out — you must fight him — or by heaven! for the honor of our State, Til fight him myself ! Col. C. Sharpsteel, not another word! Fll do it! [Goes to table, and ivHtes challenge. END OF ACT IV. Scene /.] OF WASHINGTON LIFE. 63 ACT V. Scene I. — Parlor in Col. Delaney's Boarding House. Enter Mrs. Bangs and Noall. Mrs. B. Have you heard the news about Mrs. Singleton ? JSfoall. Oh yes, ma'm. Know all about it: packed up late last night — ordered carriage for 6 o'clock train — took no leave — gave no sign of approaching dissolution, and this morning the report is no7i est inventus. Mrs. B. Well, to say the least of it, 'twas a very mys- terus affair. Do you know what the cause was ? Noall. Oh yes — know all about it, ma'm — can't nay much, tho' — guess our friend Cecilia knows all about it too — by the by, have you seen anything of the Colonel ? I've called to accompany him to a dinner-party. Mrs. B. Bless me ! I haven't laid eyes on him since yesterday. I was just wonderin' where he'd got to. Noall. Indeed ? then there may be some truth in the report that he and Blane are going out to fight a duel. Mrs. B. What! fight a juel? You don't mean to say that they are going out to shoot each other in earnest? Noall. Very probable, ma'm — duels are common occur- rences in Washington — know all about 'em. Mrs. B. Goodness gracious ! I hope and trust my poor dear husband is not mixed up in- this bizness — I'll go up to his room and see if he is there — oh dear ! \Exit, Noall. It's my individual opinion I've kicked up a 'Hempest in a teapot!" . . . Well, I guess I'll adjourn to the dinner-party. Glad Cecille didn't engage me for his. second — much rather hear the pop of a champagne cork: than the pop of a pistol — prefer the flavor of roast beef to gunpowder any day. [Exit. Scene II. — Public Streets. Enter Sharker, greatly agitated. Sharker. Hell ! and all its devils, seem leagued against 64 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES [Act F. me ! Lost my last stake at faro — month's salary pledged three times over — trick discovered — ^kicked out of oflSce — note, with Secretary's endorsement, fast maturing, with every probability of the forgery being detected — not a dollar to take it up — no money, no friends, no credit ! Great God ! what shall I do? what shall I do? I've sown the wind, now comes the whirlwind ! I stand on the brink of a precipice — I look down in its gaping abyss, and there I behold the demon forms of my past misdeeds — the foul, inhuman oifsprings of a guilty conscience — howling and gnashing their teeth like devils at me ! . . . Oh, my God I how much easier it is, after all, to be an honest man than a villain I But stop ! John Sharker, be a man — you must not yield ! you are fighting with devils — then fight like a devil youi'self ! One desperate effort — all the powers of earth — aye, of hell itself — shall yet bend to your iron will L \_Enter Police Officer, who ajp^i'^aches, him behind, un- observed.'] The bloodhounds of the law have not yet started on my trail Officer. ^Crrasping him by the shmdder.'] Yes, but they have though, my lark — and "bagged their game/' too T you're my prisoner ! Sharker. Stand back ! your prisoner ? the devil ! what do you mean ? Officer. What do I mean ? why, I mean that Bill Sly's blowed — nabbed — ^and in jail, where you've got to keep his company. Sharker. Bill Sly ? damnation ! I am lost ! Then let me die like a man, as I could not live like one ! [^Draius pistol, which is icrenchcd from him by the officer."} Officer. No you don't, my bully cock ! you've cheated people out of their money — you shan't cheat the law out of your body — nor your life neither. Come along with you! 'taint no use now — your broadcloth and silk stock- ings ain't goin to save you from the penitentiary I [^Exit Officer ivith Sharker. §cene III. — A Dining-Room. Company, seated. Capt. Smith, standing at the head of the table, in the attitude of speaking. NoALL, seated Scene lll!\ of Washington life. 65 at tlie corner of the opposite end, in ce state of semi- obliviousness. Company. Ha! ha! ha! bravo, Captain!- bravo! hur- rah! JVball. [^Recovering somewhat his consciousness after (he applause has subsided.^ Hu — hu — hurrah ! Capt. S. Yes, sir, that's the whole of it ! I stand here, gentlemen, as a representative of the past. Noall. Oh, shut up, old boy — I — I know all about it! Capt. JS. Put that fellow out — he's drunk ! Noall. Yes, p — put him out! I don't care who he is! [Hiccup. Company. Ha ! ha ! ha I [Noall relapses^ Capt. S. My honorable friend from Connecticut has given us a highfalutin dissertation upon what he is pleased to term the "sublime law of Progress." What strange God is this that I am called on to bow down to and wor- ship? Noall. Hu — hu — hurrah! Capt. S. Will somebody put that fellow out? he's hur- rahing in the wrong place. A voice. Let him alone a few minutes, and Capt. Whis- hy will put him out ! Second voice. Oh, no — Gen. Champagne! Company. Hal ha! ha! Capt. S. I ask, gentlemen, what, how, and where is^ this progress? — progress in Government? when our laws^ are so weak they can't "walk alone" from one State to another, and every mad fanatic gets up a "higher law" on his own hook? Progress in liberty? when an honest man dare not show his face on election day, and call his vote his own, without getting his head smashed with a slung-shot or a brickbat ! Progress in political economy ? when every pound of sugar we get from our grocer is wrapped up in a " Patent Office Report ! " Progress in the mechanic arts? when thousands of human victims are be* ing butchered by these new-fangled inventions — from a locomotive steam-engine down to a camphene-oil lamp! Progress in religion? when some of our churches are so fashionable that a poor man stands almost as bad a chance to get a seat, as a rich man does to go to Heaven ! Sir, if 66 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES [Act V. this be your boasted progress, "Til have none of it!" I glory in the name of old fogy I if I don't, I'll — swallow my head ! Comimny. Good ! good I hurrah ! go ahead, Captain. A voice. Hit 'em again, they aint got no friends ! Capt. S. Sir, I tell my Northern friends they had better go home and burn down all their school-houses. Company. Ha! ha! Capt. S. Yes, sir, burn 'em down ! their brains have got too great a start for the rest of their bodies; and if they don't look out, one of these days they'll all collapse and go to the mad house ! Company. Ha! ha! ha! A voice. Good lick ! Capt. S. The great evil of this age is,, we are going ahead too fast — we are too fast in eating — too fast in drink- ing — too fast in making money, and too fast in spending it — -our children are too fast to be men — an old-fashioned child is almost as hard to find as an honest politician. Company. Ha I ha ! ha ! A voice. That shot has hit somewhere in this crowd ! Capt. S. Our young men are tt)0 fast to become great statesmen — where' 11 you find your Tom Jeffersons and Andrew Jacksons, in the rising generation? Yes, sir! why, our very houses and churches fall down before they are finished, or tumble over our heads after they get up ! I repeat, gentlemen, we are too fast in everything — and if we don't turn from the evil of our ways, the whole nation, one of these days, will run ofi" the track — have a general smash up, and be blown to the devil I If this isn't the " truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth," I'll swallovj my head ! \_Seats himself ^ am,id tremendous ap- p)lause, lohich roivses NoALL, luho joins in vociferously^ Unter T 0^1 ScOTT, hurriedly — whispers to the Captain j who retires immediately from the tahhj and advances with Tom to the front. Tom. Oh, Massy Jack, Massy Jack ! I aint got no bref to speak I Col. Cecille and Ginul Blane is gwine out at 5 o'clock to fight a jucl — some say at die chain bridge, and Scene IVJ] OF WASAINGTON LIFE, r 67 some say at Bladensburg — and oh t poor Miss Emma is gone clean out of her mind, and is a ravin for to see you* O ! Garroo — Garroo ! [African lingo.'\ Capt S. My God ! this is horrible ! Tom. ! de good God be merciful ! Capt. S. If I were but sure of the place, we might head then off in time. Not a moment to be lost ! [Ad- vances to company.'] Gentlemen, excuse my absence. A question of life and death calls me off — I will explain all at another time. [Exit Capt. Smith, with Tom-^reat sensation in the compaiiy. Picture.~\ Scene IV — Room in Col. Delan^y's House. Enter EMMAawcZ CoL. Delaney — Emma walking hurried- ly to and frOy evincing intense anxiety — CoL. D. follow- ing after, and endeavoring to compose her. Col. D. Emma, my poor darling ! don^t — donH indulge these dreadful feelings — it will all turn out right — ^indeed it will — ^the storm will soon blow over, and — Emma. Blow over? yes! and leave me a ruined wreck I Father, I can bear this agony no longer ! where is uncle Jack ? Col. D. He will be here in a momemt, my dear, and will no doubt put a stop to the whole affair. Enter Servant. Servant. Here's a letter, sir; no answer, but messenger says you must read it immediately. [Exit. Col. Delaney reads."] Enter Capt. Smith. Emma. [Emhracing him.] Oh, uncle Jack, dear uncle Jack ! for the love of God, put a stop to this affair ! you must do it .r or I shall be a corpse before this day is out ! Dear uncle Jack, do not let them murder him — he is too noble — too beautiful to die ! Tuesday was to have been our happy wedding-day — he must not die ! — I could not live in the cold world without him ! oh, uncle Jack — save him — save him I if he is killed, my poor heart will break ! 68 FASmONS AND FOLLIES [^Act V. Capt. S. My darling child ! be composed : all that you ask shall be done. Col. D. [After reading the letter."] Gracious God ! here Jack, read this. \^Capt, S. takes the letter j and reads aloud:'] Col. Delaney-— Sir: I am now in jail, awaiting the pen- alty of the law for my evil deeds; to save myself from the pangs of a torturing conscience, and prevent further evil, I am compelled to make a full confession : I was at the bottom of the whole aflfair between Cecille and Blane : I traduced your' daughter's character to Blane, which caused him to commit himself — and informed Cecille, anonymous- ly, of the occurrence. I Wrote the offensive newspaper let- ters which led to the difficulty in the House-^and afterwards represented to Cecille that the author of those letters was feed by Blane, for traducing him, (Cecille.) 1 have se- cret intelligence of a hostile meeting to take place some- time this afternoon, at the duelling-ground on the Seventh street road. Should this letter reach them in time, it will prevent the affair, and perhaps save a human life — speed ! not a moment to be lost. In haste — JOHN SHARKER. Emma. Ah! he will yet be saved! Quick! uncle Jack — for God of Heaven's sake ! Capt. S. Never fear — all will be right ! lExit. Emma. Father, I am faint ! air — ^give me fresh air ! [Co?. D. leads her out.] Scene Y — Duelling-ground near Washington — Cecille and Blane, with their respective seconds, Sharpsteel and De Courcey, and two attendant surgeons, standing apart — seconds with pistols. Col. DeCourcey. Well, Mr. Sharpsteel, the prelimina- ries are all arranged, I believe; shall we proceed to action ? Sharp. We are ready, sir. Col. C. Sharpsteel, a word with you. Sharp. One moment, if you please. Col. De Courcey. Col. C. [Aside to Sharpsteel.] Sharpsteel, should I fall Scene IV.'] of Washington life. 69 in this encounter, remember me to poor Emma — ^try to soften this blow to her— explain all the circumstances, and here, [taking a small package from Ms pocket jI give her this — Fve willed her all — all ! poor, darling Emma ! Sharp. My dear Cecille, I will faithfully comply with your request, should it be necessary ; . but do not talk of falling— be sure of a steady aim — make quick time, and strike for the centre ! Gen. Slane. \Aside to De Courcei/.l I say, De Courcey, as Cecille is said to be a " green hand,,^' hadn/t I better " draw his fire ? " De Courcey. Draw hfs fire ? the devil ! no : you're a quick shot, and can " head him off." Blane. All right I Sharp. \_Handing pistol to Cecille.] Now, Col. De Cour- cey, you may pass the word. De Courcey. \_After passing pistol to Blane.] Gentle- men ! are you ready ? Enter Capt. Smith. Capt. S. Hold ! gentlemen, this affair must not pro- ceed. Col. De C. We can allow no interruption, sir, except from an officer of the law. Capt. S. I am no officer of the law, sir, but I am a gen- tleman, and understand the rights of gentlemen. I have a document here, \taking from his pocket Sharker's let- ter,] which, with men of honor, should have as much weight as the "strong arm of the law.'' [Turning to Col. Cecille.] Read that sir! [Col. Cecille reads ^ Col. C. Is it possible that I have been so duped by this villain ! Mr. Sharpsteel, read this, if you please, and then present it to Col. De Courcey. [Sharpsteel reads, and presents to De Courcey, who reads it with Blane — after which, Blane and De Courcey confer apart.] Sharpsteel. [Aside to Cecille.] There can be no diffi- culty now, I should imagine, in the way of an amicable settlement. Col. C. I certainly concur with you — and with a view to this, you may inform Col. De Courcey that I am willing 70 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES [Act V. to withdraw the challenge, and also to recall my allusions in the House, provided Gen. Blane retracts the insult. Sharp. I will do so with pleasure. ^To Col. De C] Col. De Courcey, a word with you, if you please. [^Sharpsteel and De Courcey confer apart for a few moments j after which, De Courcey comes forward. ~\ Col, De C. Gentlemen, we are happy to state that the terms of settlement proposed on either side are mutually acceptable, and meet with the entire approbation of all parties. Gen. Blane. [Approaching Cecille.'] Col. Cecille, allow me to proffer you my hand, with the assurance of a perfect understanding and a most friendly feeling. Col. C. My dear sir, I accept your hand with great pleasure, and cordially reciprocate the spirit in which it is given. Capt. S. That's right ! much more pleasant to shake hands with sl friend, than fight with B.foe. Col. C. Ah, General, allow me to introduce my highly esteemed friend, Capt. John Smith. Capt. S. No, sir! Jack — I was christened Jack — no relation whatever to John Smith. Col. C. Ha! ha! I beg pardon — Capt. Jack Smith, Gen. Blane. To the Captain's kind oflices we are indebted for this agreeable denouement. Gen, B. Capt. Smith, your servant sir; accept my cor- dial acknowledgments ; you have checkmated us in a game in which, I fear, some of our "moves" were rather hasty. Capt. S. Yes, sir ! just like you modern gentlemen : too fast in fighting, as you are in everything else. Smelt gun- powder myself, considerably; never found it pleasant as a pinch of snuff — tho' I seldom use the article. Col. De C. [ To Gen. Blane."] Well, General, as the police are likely to be on our track, I move we adjourn. Gen. Blane. I second that motion, sir. Gentlemen I wish you good evening and a pleasant journey home. [Exit. Gen, B., with Col, De C. and surgeon.] Capt. S. Col. Cecille, I have just parted with poor Em- ma ; we had better hasten our return, or this matter may end in a tragedy yet. Scene VI.'] OF WASHINGTON LIFE. 71 Col. C. Grood God ! Captain^ does she know of this af- fair? Capt. S. Know of it? could you have witnessed her agony of mind when I left her— I trust in God I may never look upon the like again ! Col. C. Let us return immediately ! [Exeunt all. Scene YI — Parlor in Col. Delaney's house as he/ore — Mrs, Bangs pacing the room anxiously. Mrs. B. Oh dear ! what an awful place this "Washing- ton is : people think no more of shooting one another than eating their dinners ! wish I was only once out of it- no forty horses couldn't pull me back again. Enter Miss Bangs. Miss B. Mother, I just met old uncle Tom coming down from Emma's room — he has called to know if his master has got back. Mrs. B. Tell him to step in here, my dear — I want to speak to him. [Exit Miss B. and returns with Tom Scott. Tom. Sarvant, Missus. Mrs. B. Ah, Tom, how did you leave Miss Emma ? Tom. Oh, marm, she takes it hard — bery hard ! my heart was wownded to see de poor lubly crittur — knowed her from de cradle — couldn't feel more'n she'd ben my own flesh and blood ! Mrs. B. Poor dear child ! I feel very sorry for her : what a pity she should throw away her feelins so on one so much above her. Tom. Bove her, marm? beg pardon — Gunnel Cissul nor no oder gemman will eber see de day dat dey is bove my young missus ! no marm, not eben de President ob dese Uniten States hissef ! Knowed her grand-fader, old Ginul Delaney, afore her, marm; driv in his "coach and four" wid de lib'ry — Mrs. Madison neber gib no party dat old Ginul Delaney and his lady wasn't dar ! Bove her ! I golly, mar'm, de Delaneys is ob de high quality stock — de raal ole Firginny blood — and no mistake ! yes mar'm Mrs. B. Well, Tom, I like jour family pride; that's 72 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES ^Act V. right — always stick up for your master and your master's friends. Enter Capt. SMiTB.y /olloi€ed hy Cecille and Sharpsteel. Ca'pt. S. Here we are, alive and kicking — it's all right ! Tom. de good Grod be bressed! Hallilujah! Mrs. B. \_Shakmg hands with Col. Cecille.^ Oh, Colonel, my dear Colonel ! I am so glad to see you alive — indeed I am ! Col. C. I thank you, madam — sincerely thank you. [Looking around.'] Where is Miss Emma Delaney? Col. Delaney. [ Without.] They've come — they've come ! here they are I Emma. [ Witho^U.] Where ! where ! Col. C. Ah ! that voice again ! Enter CoL. Delaney, followed hy Emma, who^ seeing Col. Cecille, utters an exclamation of joy., and falls in his arms, Emma. Oh Cecille ! Cecille ! CoL C. Bly dear, darling Emma! Capt. Smith. [ Trying to repress his emotion.'] I — I'm a soft-hearted old fool — but I can't help it ! [ Vlaces hand- kerchief to his eyes.] Mrs. B. Bless my stars! why, it is a "match" sure enough ! Emma. Oh, Cecille ! could you but know the agony I have endured ! Why, why did you treat me so ? Col. C. Dear Emma ! do not reproach me now — Sharp- steel will explain all — he will tell you my struggle — had I fallen, your name would have been the last word on my lips, and your image the last impression on my heart! Will you not forgive me, Emma? I could not bear one harsh word from those sweet lips : say, do you not pardon me? Emma. Dear Cecille, I do ! all shall be forgotten ! Capt. S. That's right ! nothing like forgiveness : it's an article in universal demand : few of our best deeds that wouldn't be improved by a little seasoning with the salt of charity. Scene F/.] OF WASHINGTON LIFE. 73 Col. Delanoy. [^Shaking hands ivith CecilleJ] Col. Ce- cille^ I am truly rejoiced at yonr safe return. Col. G. I thank you, Colonel, most sincerely, and deeply regret having caused so much trouble in your house. Col. D. Don't mention it, sir — 'tis all forgotten in the joy of our re-union. Mrs. B. Lord ! Captain, if it hadn't ben for you, what an awful bad bizness this might'er turned out? Cajpt. 8. Yes, madam! ^^fighting's a bad business, well followed." "Bear and forbear" is the good old Bible doctrine — and it's the true doctrine, too — if it isn't — Fll swallow my head! Sharp. Yes, Captain, but there is another old adage which says, " there is a time when forbearance ceases to be a virtue." Ca2)t. S. True, sir ; and that time happens once in a "month of Sundays." I tell you, sir, we are all too fast to fight and too slow to forgive. A little forbearance on either side would save many a bloody deed and many a wretched conscience! "Bear and forbear" — that's the doctrine; I've been sixty years learning it, and haven't " got it by heart" yet; and when you are as old as I am, yoiCll believe iti it too ! Emma. Dear, good uncle Jack ! how shall we thank, how bless you ? to you we owe all — everything ! Capt. S. Stop, stop! Don't run in debt so fast: bad principle to acknowledge more than you owe : better com- mence to ^ig-m't^a^e now. \Kissesher^ As for my Honora- ble friend here, \turning to Cecille,'] there is no lex scripta to meet his case — unless, indeed, he compromise with the defendant, and take the ^^ Benefit of Clergy.'' Col. C. My dear Captain, I adopt your legal advice most willingly — that is, provided the ^'defendant'' consents. Capt. S. How is it ? does the defendant agree to the compromise ? [^Emma hangs her head hlushingly,'] ahem ! silence implies consent; \to Cecille,'] you may take her arm sir : [ Cecille takes Emma's arm,] ah ! you little rogue ; you never let your old uncle into your secret until you couldn't keep it any longer. \^To Mrs. Bangs.] There's a couple for you, ma'm; look at 'em! I only wish Mrs. 74 FASHIONS AND FOLLIES [Act V. Singleton was here, to do likewise ; the sight would do her eyes good — she'd never have to wear "specs" in her old age — ha ! ha ! ha ! Sharp. By the by, Captain, what has become of Noall ? Capt. S. The last time I saw him, he was rapidly as- cending to the "third heaven" of champagne ! Col. C. And what of that villain. Sharker ? Capt. S. Sharker? oh, city air doesn't agree with his health: he is going to try the effects of the salubrious river-breeze down on G-reenleaf s Point. Enter Noall, 'inanifesting decided symptoms of recovery. Mrs. Bangs. Ah, there's Mr. Noall, now. \^3feeting him.l Oh! Mr. Noall, they've all got back safe and sound — it's all right ! Noall. Oh, yes; I know all about it! [shaking hands with (7ea7Ze,] my dear, dear Colonel ! I am ex — excessively happy to meet you in a state of — of — vitality ! ex — exces- sively happy ! Col. C. I thank you, my dear sir, most cordially. Noall. Excuse me, Miss Emma; my ^oy overcomes my ut — ut — ut' ranee I I'm ex — excessively happy ! Capt. Smith And so we all are I We've had a rough path and a crooked path to travel; but, thank God ! it has, at length, led us out into the green pastures ; and the dark scenes we have passed v^ill only be remembered as a part of the — Fashions and Follies of Washington-life. EPILOGUE. Col. Delaney. Kind friends, before we say " good night,' We wish to know if all is right? Capt. Smith. The pris'ner here has an honest face; [Pointing to Cecillef\ To you we now submit his case. Mrs. Bangs. I think, myself, 'twas very cruel To leave his love and fight a juel! i.=z Scene F/] OP WASHINGTON LIFE. 75 Col. Cecille. The cause of this, I will confess : Although your pardon I implore — ^^Not that I loved my Emma less, But that I loved my honor more ! " Capt. Smith. Bravo ! Cecille — that^s well said; If it isn't a "hit'' — I'll swallow my head! Sharpsteel. 'Tis my time now to take the stand : And, first of all, I'm a fast young man ; But yet I think the Captain's right — We'd better shake hands than have a fight. Emma. And now, kind friends, our task is done; Have we your good opinions won ? Capt. Smith. Will you applaud ? we can't get on without it. Noall. Of course they will — I know all about it! Capt. Smith. There's only one thing wanting now : Tom Scott \ come up, sir, and make your bow. Tom. I karn't bow now as I used to could, But still old nigger's heart feel good ! ! may you hear de Shepherd's call, And may de good Lord bress you all ! Col. Delaney. This play of fashion, love, and strife, Is a picture true of human life — The tale, no doubt, you all have read; Capt. Smith. If it isn't true Fll swallow my head! \_Picture — curtain falls. END or ACT V. FINIS. w 98 • •' \* .. 'U • ■«> -^rf. o ^* 4^ ^ « % '"' 4<^ ... ''^^ *^^ a6* \. '» • • • ^^ ' .^''^ -o/'T?^-' «o' ^^^-*-^iff.*> .^^ '..• A^_. ■^z*. .* K*'..:^ t^"^*. o- .cP V**^