> \s ^ COrVRIGHT.lSSS, BY HAROLD ROOMBACH 3El00Cbarl)'8 full UrSfriptibc Catalogue of Dramas, Comedies. ComedieHas, Farces, Tableaux-vivants, Guide-books. Novel Entertainments for Church, School and Parler Exhibitions, etc.. containing complete and explicit information, will be sent to any address on receipt of a stamp for return postage. Address as above. ROORBACK'S AMERICAN EDITION. PRICE, 15 CENTS EACH. This series embraces the best of plays, suited to the present time. The reprints have been rigicHy compared uitli the original acting copies, so that absohite purity of text and stage bvisiness is ivtrranti-d. Each play is furnished with an introductioii of the greatest value to the stage m.inager, containing the argument or synopsis of incidents, complete lists of properties and costumes, diagrams of the stage settings and practicable scene-plots, with the fullest stage directions. They are hand- somely printed from new electrotyoe plates, in readable type, on fine paper. 'J'heir complete introductions, textual .accuracy, and mechanical excellence render thesB^ooks far superior in every respect to all editions of acting plays hitherto ;>ublis)*y. i. AI.L THAT GLITTERS IS NOT GOLD. A comic drama in two acts. Six male, three female characters. Time, two hours. 2. A SCRAP OF PAPER. A comic drama in three acts. Six male, six female characters. Time, two hours. 3. MY LORD IN LIVERY. A farce in one act. Five male, three female charac- ters. Time, fifty minutes. 4. CABMAN No. 93. A farce in one act. Two male, two female characters. Time, forty minutes. 5. MILKY WHITE. A domestic drama in two acts. Four male, two female char- acters. Time, one hour and three quarters. t. PARTNERS FOR LIFE. A comedy in three acts. Seven male, four female characters. Time, two hours, 7. WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME, A comedy-farce in two acts. Four male, four female charjiciers. Time, one hour. 8. HOW TO TAME YOUR MOTHER-IN-LAW^. A farce in one act. Four male, two female characters. Time, thirty-five minutes. 9. LADY AUDLEY'S SECRET. A drama in two acts. Four male, three female char.icters. Time, one hour and a quarter. 10. NOT SO BAD AFTER ALL. A comedy in three acts. Six male, five female characters. Time, one hour and forty minutes. 11. WHICH IS 'A^HICH ? A comedietta in one act. Three male, three female characters. Time, fifty minutes. 12. ICI ON PARLE FRAN^AIS. A farce in one , act. Three male, four fcmal.- characters. Time, forty-five minutes. 13. DAISY FARM. .'\ drama in four acts. Ten male, four female char.acter^. Time, two hours ami twenty minutes. 14. MARRIED LIFE. A comody in three acts. Five male, five female characters. 'I'iine, two hours. 15. A PRETTY PIECE OF BUSINESS. A comedietta in one act. Two male, three female ch.uacters. Time, fifty minutes. 16. LEND ME FIVE SHILLINGS. A farce in one ,ict. Five male, two female characters. Time, one hour. ^7. UNCLE TOM'S CABIN.— Original Vorsion. A drama in six acts. Fifteen male, seven female characters. 'I'lme, three hours. 18. UNCLE TOM'S CABIN.— New Version. A drama in five acts. Seven male, five female characters. Time, two hours and a quarter. 19. LONDON ASSURANCE. A comedy in five acts. Ten male, three female characters. Time, two hours and three quarters. 20. ATCHI I A comedietta in one act. Three male, two female characters. Time, forty iuiniites. 21. ^y^O IS WHO ? A farce ill one act. Three male, two female characters. Time, forty minutes. aa. THE WOVEN WEB. A drama in four acts. Seven male, three female char- acters. Time, two hours and twenty minutes. \!!S~ A vy 0/ //if aboz'c -,vill he sen/ /-v iiun'l, /•ost-f>aiii. /i> any niiJrcss, on receiM c//hefyue. ' . . ' HAROLD ROORSACH, Publisher, 9 Murray St., New York. WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME A COMEDY-FARCE IN TWO ACTS BY JOHN MADDISON MORTON New American Edition Correctly Reprinted from the Ori- ginal Authorized Acting Edition, with the Original Casts of the Characters, Synopsis of Incidents, Time of Representation, Description of the Costumes, Scene and Property Plots, Dia- grams OF THE Stage Settings, Sides of Entrance and Exit, Relative Posi- tions of the Performers, Expla- nations OF THE Stage Direc- tions, etc., and all of THE Stage Business. Copyright, 1889, by Harold Roorbach OEC 141889, NEW YORK HAROLD ROORBACH PUBLISHER T'K^IV n^ , v.! I r WOODCOCKS' LITTLE GAME. CAST OF CHARACTERS. Mr. Woodcock Mr. Christopher Larkings Mr. A.DOLPHUS swansdown David Mrs. Col. Carver Mrs. Woodcock Mrs. Larkings Maid Royal St. y antes Theatre ^ London, Oct. 6t/i, 1864, Mr. Charles Matthews. I Mr J. Montague. \ Mr. J. Johnstone. Mr. W. Chamberlaine. Mrs. Frank Matthews. Miss Fanny Hughes. Miss Wentworth. Bridesmaids and Guests. IVallack's Theatre, New York, June, 13th, 1868. Mr. Lester Wallack. M. J. B. Polk. Mr. J. H. Stoddart Mr. J. C. Williamson. Miss Fanny Morant. Miss Mary Barrett. Mrs. Clara Jennings. Miss Monell. Time of Performance — One Hour. SYNOPSIS OF INCIDENTS. Mr. Marmaduke Woodcock, having become satiated with cutting capers, and nothing but capers, about town for twenty years, retires to an obscure country town where he marries the daughter of Mrs. Coi,. Carver, the formidable relict of a retired army officer, with the design of leading a steady rural existence. But no sooner is he fairly launched upon the sea of matrimony than he is surprised to learn from Mrs. Lakkinc.s, a vivacious lady of fashion, that his own programme is rendered nugatory, inasmuch as the bride, reared in seclusion, is determined to plunge lorlhwith into the vortex of town life — a determination heartily seconded 4 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. by her mother who is resolved to make up for the lack of social enjoyment which she suffered during the lifetime of the lamented Carver. It has been assumed by both ladies not only that Mr. Woodcock is not satiated with the pleasures and gaieties of the world, but that he has not even tasted them and will join in their plans with alacrity. Accordingly the newly made Benedict is forced to abandon his cherished plans for rural repose, and apartments are duly engaged in town. There now follows a round of social dissipation novel and delightful to mother and daughter, but sadly irksome to Mr. Woodcock who is dragged out, in spite of him- self, night after night. At a ball given by Mrs. Larkings, he meets an old actjuaintance, Mr. Swansdown, who like himself, has been satiated with social gaieties, but contrives to avoid most of them by having a regular stock of indispositions to meet invitations with, or by returning home early, leaving his wife behind. Mr. Woodcock is about to adopt a similar expedient, but is deterred from putting it into execution on learning that his host, Mr. Larkings, compelled to pay attention to the neglected wife, had finally conceived a strong fancy for her — had, indeed, indited her a sentimental note which was probably even then on her dressing-iable. Mr. Swansdown, having found this letter, meanwhile, returns to the ball and furiously demands an immediate duel, promising, at the same time, to lay before Mrs. Larkings proof of her husband's perfidy within a half hour. In the duel, to which Mr. Woodcock has been forcibly dragged by both principals, Larkings is wounded in the arm, but afterward explams, satisfactorily, the letter to Mrs. Swansdown. In the midst of general con- sternation about explaining both duel and letter to Mrs. Larkings, who if she knew the facts, would surely bury her lord in the country for the rest of his existence, to preserve him from further lapses from virtue, a sublime idea suggests itself to Mr. Woodcock, whereby he may be restored to the rural simplicity for which he pines. Pretending to be the real culprit, he assumes the responsibility of letter, duel and everything else, with the result that his wife and mother-in-law, fearful of his settling down into an atrocious profligate if permitted to remain longer amid the temptations of the town, accompany him forthwith to the seclusion that the country grants, to the unconcealed delight of the supposed offender that, owing to his ingenuity, success has crowned Woodcock's Little Game. COSTUMES. Mr. Woodcock. — Act I. — Bridegroom's costume. Act II. — Evening dress ; crush (or silk) hat ; Inverness cape ; shawl to wrap about his neck. Mr. Larkings. It- • j -n u ^ Mr. Swansdown. } ^^^"'"^ ^■"^'^ 5 ""^^ ^^''• David. — Act I. — Livery. Act II. — Page's attire. ^1 P "I Act I. — First Dress, handsome wedding costumes. M„ ' 1X7 „ '„ . >■ Second Dress, travelling costumes. Act II. — Fash- Mrs. W(X)DCOcx. f . , , •.•!.. 11 ) lonable evening toilettes, opera cloaks, etc. Mrs. Larkings. — -let I. — Travelling costume. Act II. — Fashionable evening toilette. Maid. — Neat cambric dress, white apron and cap, linen collar and cuffs. No jewelry. WOODCOCICS LITTLE GAME. STAGE SETTINGS. Act I. Act II. bbriv BacklBf 'Folding Doors ' , • ■ • o^ jCbaa _, , Ch»Ir O,//^^ Dock % Door Dorr Clioji' Choir SCENE PLOT. Act I. — Plain chamber in 3 a., backed with interior backing in 4 g. Fireplace c, in flat. Doors R. and i,. of the firejjlace. Door R. 2 e. Window I.. 2 E. Sofa down L. Table and two chairs c. Act II. — Fancy chamber in 30., backed with interior backing, .showing lighted ballroom, in 4 G. Folding doors C. Doors K. 2 K. and I,. 2 K. Tall clock, with practicable hands, upR. c. Chairs near clock, and about stage. Sofa up L. c. PROPERTIES. Act T. — Furniture as per Scene Plot (table to have a drawer in it.) Writing materials on table, c. Wedding favor for D.win. Three brown pa|)er ijarcels, with letters attached. Watch and document for Woodcock. Document for Mrs. Lakkinos. Act II. — Two large bouquets for Woodcock. Tickets for Maid. Ticket, hat and overcoat for Sw.\.nsuu\vn. Watches for all the men. Armslings for Lakkings and Woodcock. Letter, in envelope, for SwANiDuw.N. Letter and card-case for David. 6 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE CAME. STAGE DIRECTIONS. Observing, the player is supposed to face the audience. R., means right ; L., left; C, center; R. C, right of centre; i.. C, left of centre; i E., first entrance; 2 E., second entrance ; u. E., upper entrance; i, 2 or 3 g., tirst, second or third grooves. Up Stage, toward the back ; Down Stage, toward the footlights. R. R. C. C. L. C. L. Note. — The text of this play is correctly reprinted from the original authorized acting edition, without change. The introductory matter has been carefully prepared by an expert, and is the only part of this book pro- tected by copyright. WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. ACT I. Scene. — An Apartment in the house of Mrs. Colonel Car7>er at Stow- oti-the- Wold; fire-place inc., doors, R, and L, of it ; another door R. 2 E. ; d! sofa, L. ; at L. a window ; table, c, ivith writing materials; chairs, &^c., &*c. David /« livery and wearing a large wedding favour, is seated at little table, writing. David. Let me see what I ha' written ! [reading letter) " Dear Cousin Jane, I write this from the little town of Stow-on-the- Wold, in Gloucestershire — last week the population amounted to 2719, but as soon as master and me arrived, it suddenly shot up to 2721 — the church bells have been ringing all the morning in honour of my master's marriage with Miss Caroline Anastasia Sophia Elizabeth Carver, which is now being solemnized" — {noise of shoutipig and hurrahing heard) hey-day! {jumps up and looks out of windoio) it be all over, and here comes the bride and bridegoom ! {shouts repeated — David, in his enthusiasi/i waving his arm out of the windoi, • and hurrahing with all his might, then com- ing down) Poor master ! he's gone and done it now, and no mis- take ! {listening) Here comes the wedding party — I must finish my letter to Cousin Jane by-and-bye ! {putting letter in his pocket) Mrs. WooDCOK, Mrs. Colonel Carver in bridal attire, and two Bridesmaids enter at door r. c. Mrs. C. Don't agitate yourself, my darling child, it is rather a nervous affair, I know, but it's all over now — nothing could be better, you got through it charmingly. Bridesmaids. Oh, yes, charmingly ! Mrs. C. A little repose, a mouthful of sponge cake and glass of sherry will soon compose you. Ladies, support your precious charge — come. Exeunt, door R. 2 E. Woodcock, {without) This way, my dear friends. 8 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. Enter Woodcock, door v.. C, in his bridegroom's costume, followed by two or three Male Friends, with whom he is shaking hands in succession. I'm obliged to you — very much obliged to you, indeed, for seeing me through the awful — I mean the interesting ceremony ! You'll excuse my following you to the dining room ; you'll find my res- pectable bride and her blushing mother there — no — I mean — really, what with the excitement, the agitation, the — the Friends, {^laughing) Ha, ha ! of course ! — all right, old fellow — ha, ha, ha ! Exeunt, R. 2 E. Wood, {coming down slowly — after a short pause) It's all over! there' s not the slightest doubt about its being all over ! the knot is tied and I am fairly launched on the sea of matrimony ! I felt uncom- monly nervous at first, and then, to make matters worse, I thought I never should have got my white kid gloves off ; and yet they were quite loose when I put them on. I can't imagine what made them shrink so, unless it was the state of nervous excitement they were in — I mean, I was in ! 'Pon my life, after all, a wedding in a country town is a very jolly affair! In London, a couple walk into church and out again, and it makes no more sensation than if they went into a pastrycook's and bought a bun apiece I but in the country it creates a general excitement — the bride and bride- groom become objects of universal sympathy — I mean, curiosity everybody wishes them joy, at least they say they do! In short, as I said before, it's a very jolly affair ! I shouldn't mind being married two or three times a week for a considerable time to come. {seeing David) Ah, David ! David, {sighing, and very seriously) So, you be really married, sir? Wood, {assuming a very hilarious manner) Yes, David ! quite married ! You may look at me with the perfect conviction that you are contemplating the portrait of a gentleman thoroughly, totally, and completely married. (David turns aivay to hide his laughter^ You needn't turn your head away, David. I don't mind your laughing. I'm laughing myself, ha, ha, ha. {forcing a very loud laugh — then after a short pause) It does seem funny though, doesn't it, David? David, (l. c.) Yes, sir ! it is a rum go and no mistake ! Wood. I said nothing about a "rum go" David, — I limited myself to the expression "funny ! " David. Only to think of your setthng down into a respectable member of society ! Dear, dear, when I think of your desperate, wild, audacious capers Wood. Husii, David! not so loud ! my respected mother-in-law might hear you; and between you and me Mrs. Colonel Carver is rather a formidable sort of person ! WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 9 David. Ees, sir ! she has a stiffish, frumpish look with her ! Wood. I said nothing about " stiffish and frumpish," David, — I hmited myself to the expression "formidable." As you say, David, I have been a sad scapegrace — a desperate rascal — but when a man has been cutting capers and nothing but capers for twenty years, it's high time he cut them altogether — in plain Eng- lish, I felt I had had my whack, and that's why I've just married Miss Caroline Anastasia Sophia Elizabeth Carver! David. Well, sir, they do say a reformed rake makes the best husband, and you certainly had a regular good "innings" at it. Wood. I said nothing aljout "innings," David, — I limited my- self to the expression "whack! " Has anything been sent from the railway station ? David. Yes — sir, three parcels — here they be, sir ! [^thrce brown paper parcels are on the table) Wood, (^taking one parcel and opening letter, which is fastened to it) "Two morning gowns in merino — best quality, quilted and lined, — cords and tassels as to order," that's all right ; now the other parcels, 'Ddiv\d^[ope>iino;- the papers attached to them) "Three woolen smoking caps, three cloth ditto, three silk ditto, three vel- vet ditto," — all right, {opening third paper) " Twelve pairs of slippers to measure, three lined with fur, three with flannel, &c., &c., Quite correct. David. Morning gowns, caps, and slippers! Why, I never seed you with one or the other in all my life, never ! Wood. Exactly ; because, hitherto, my existence has been passed in coats that cramped my body, hats that pinched my head, and boots that crippled my feet! But that's all over, Da\ id ; to-morrow 1 insert my body into a morning gown, my head into a cap, my feet into a pair of slippers, and in that easy and unencum- bered state 1 sink into a comfortable arm chair for the remainder of my existence. Not a bad notion, eh, David? David. I call it a first-rate dodge, sir I Wood. I said nothing about a "dodge," David ; I limited my- self to the expression "notion." That being the case, David, I hereby convey, transfer, and make over to you from the time being, my entire stock of dress coats, ditto trousers, ditto waist- coats, white neckcloths, black hats, and patent leather boots. David. Oh, thank'ee, sir, thankee ! Mrs. Larkings. {without) Don't trouble yourself! I dare say you've plenty to do on such a day as this. Wood. Heyday ! see who it is, David. David, {looking off at R. c.) It be a lady, sir. Lor! how 1 should laugh if it was one o' your old London sweethearts come down to forbid the banns — ha, ha, ha ! Wood. Hold your tongue, sir, and show the lady in! lO WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. As 'QkV\v> goes up, enter Mrs. Larkings, at door R. c, in travelling costwnc. David, {running back to Woodcock, and aside to him) All right, sir — I never seed her afore ! Wood. Leave the room ! ( David runs out — Woodcock advances /^ Mrs. Larkings) Madam, may 1 — eh? yes — Mrs. Larkings! Mrs. L. Yes ! in propria persona. Well, am I too late ? I see I am. You're married.'' I see you are. [looking at Woodcock and then bursting into a laugh) Ha, ha, ha! I can't help laughing 1 Wood. So it seems. Yes, fair lady, I entered the holy state of wedlock exactly seventeen minutes and a half ago. [looking at ■watch ) Mrs. L. I should so like to have seen you ! what fun it must have been — ha, ha, ha ! Wood, [aside) What does she mean by " fun ? " and what can she be laughing at? [aloud and assuming a very solemn tnanner) Mrs. Larkings, if you allude to the solemnization of the nuptial rites, / saw no fun in it. Mrs. L. No, of course _yr'?/ didn't ! ha, ha, ha! but tell me how is — how is Mrs. Woodcock? Ha, ha, ha! Wood, [aside) Mrs. Larkings is gradually becoming un- pleasant. Mrs. L. Of course I couldn't allow the dear girl to be married without wishing her joy, poor thing. Wood, [aside) What does she mean by " poor thing ? " Mrs. L. So I took the express train, and here I am! I suppose she was dreadfully agitated, poor thing? Wood, [aside) That's tzuo poor things! [aloud) Agitated! not she ; she was all animation — all joy — all Mrs. L. Yes, yes! she naturally would be at first, poor thing. Wood, [aside) Another "poor thing," and Mrs. Larkings and I shall have a row. Mrs. L. Well, as I have unluckily arrived too late to witness the ceremony — I'd have given anything to have seen you — ha, ha! [laughing innnoderately) You don't mind my laughing, do you ? Wood. Not at all ; it's rather pleasant than otherwise ! Mrs. L. All I can do is to give the bride and bridegroom my blessing, and go back by the next train to London ! Wood. And to Larkings ! By-the-bye, how is your Christopher? I hope your Christopher is still the same fond, indulgent Chris- topher you've always found your Christopher. Mrs. L. [enthusiastic ally) He's a darling ! we are happy as the day is long ! and no wonder — we married for love ; our tastes, our opinions are the same, and what is still more important, we are nearly the same age — Christopher is twenty-four ; I am twenty- two ! now between vou and Carohne the gap is much wider. ^Vood. The what'? WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. li Mrs. L. The gap ! she is under twenty, while you are — how old shall we say ? [smiling) Wood, [very quietly) Thirty-nine ! Mrs. L. Oh, that's the age you've decided on, eh? well, if you wish it, we'll say thirty-nine ! [smiling again) I'd better tell Christ- topher in case he might let the cat out of the bag ! [smiling) Wood, [aside) Pleasant creature! very! [aloud) Yes, Mrs, Larkings — and at thirty-nine I think it time for a man to marry. Mrs. L. Then why didn't you ? [smiling) Wood. I am married ! at least, such is my impression. Mrs. L. Yes, yes! but I don't mean //;« thirty-nine ! your other thirty-nine youry?n/ thirty-nine ! [smiling) Wood, [aside) Her sex protects her. [aloud) I repeat that hav- ing reached the age of thirty-nine, and having moreover, suffi- ciently enjoyed what is called " life " Mrs. L. You determined to marry and settle down quietly, and all that sort of thing — exactly! that's intelligible enough, as far as you are concerned ; but — your wife? Wood. My wife? Well, what? Mrs. L. She / ho bursts out laughing in his face and goes out — Woodcock, buttoning up his coat, and with an air of resolution) I don't care — though it should come to a fight between Carver and me, I will not pay a third visit to the Colosseum at Rome. Mrs. C. [anxiously watching Mrs. Larkings out, and then throwing off her former stiff and disguised maniur) Done at last ! [lookiui^ knowingly at Woodcock, and shaking her head playfully at hint) Ah ! — ah ! Wood. (r. c, astonishecl— aside) WTiat the deuce is the matter with Carver ? 14 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. Mrs. C. (l. c, still in the same playful manner) Andhas Marmy been deceived — has Marmy been taken in ! — he ! he! he ! Wood, {aside) I see, Carver's been at the sherry ! Mrs. C. Come here, Marmy ! you don't mind me calling you Marmy ? Marmaduke is such a mouthful, whereas, Marmy is — \A^ood. Mrs. Carver you're at liberty to Marmy me as much as you think proper, but allow me tp observe, that having already paid two visits to the Mrs. C. Yes, yes ! now, listen to me ! in a word, I am not the woman you take me for ! Wood. Eh? you're not Mother Woodcock? — I mean, Mrs. Woodcock's mother ? Mrs. C. Pshaw ! I don't mean that! in short Marmy, you have repeatedly said to yourself — don't deny it — " What a regular wet blanket I shall have for a mother-in-law." Wood. No, no ! I solemnly protest that — [aside) — I have said so no end of times ! Mrs. C. You are mistaken, Marmy ! that austerity of deport- ment — that rigidity of manner was all assumed. Listen ! You see this brooch ? ( pointing to one in her dress) It contains the por- trait of the late Lieutenant-Colonel Carver, done in oil. W^ood. Carver done in oil ? Yes ! Mrs.C. He was a very handsome man. W^ood. Was he ? You're quite right to mention it. Mrs. C. Especially on horseback. W^ood. Then I should certainly have had him taken on horse- back 1 Mrs. C. He vowed that he had never loved before ! Wood. Of course ! ha, ha! that's what they all say ! ha, ha ! ( forgetting himself ) Mrs. C. [astojiished) Marmy ! Wood. I mean to say, I've heard say that's what they all say — that's all I say ! Mrs. C. I believed him, and we were married ! That very day, Marmy, he retired on half-pay ! Wood. Did he though ? and, how old was Carver done in oil ? Mrs. C. Thirty-nine ! W^ood. You mean, he said he was thirty-nine. Ha, ha ! I've known lots of fellows, who say they're thirty-nine when in fact they — never mind ! Mrs. C. I was under twenty, had been strictly and severely brought up — is it then to be wondered at that I yearned, I may say, panted for those gaieties, those amusements so natural to my age ? But, alas ! it was not to be, for while I was revelling in the anticipation of entering into what is called " Life," he told me, and I repeat his own unfeeling selfish words, that he had had his whack. (Woodcock looks astonished) Whack ! such a vulgar expression ! WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 15 Wood. Low ! very low, indeed ! a colonel, especially a colonel on horseback, ought to have been above it ! Mrs. C. But that wasn't all ; he actually had the barbarity, on our wedding day, to draw up what he called a programme of our matrimonial existence. (Woodcock still more astonished, suddenly remembers his own programme, lohich is lying on the table) in which /was condemned to the dull monotony of household duties. Wood, (aside) How very odd. I wonder if there was anything in it about killing buttons, and sewing on caterpillars. Mrs. C. While he, forsooth, was to enjoy himself ; go out fish- ing, smoke his cigar, and take his nap in his arm chair, (angrily) Wood, (aside) This is a very singular coincidence ; because, I'll take my oath, / never saw Carver's programme! (he has gradu- ally approached the table, and, watching his opportunity, suddenly snaic/ies (he paper off it, and crams it into his packet) Mrs. C. What's the matter? Wood. Nothing. Mrs. C. But ///«/ wasn't all; he actually expressed his intention of laying aside his splendid regimentals— those regimentals that I loved so much, and wearing nothing but those odious abominations called morning gowns for the remainder of his existence, (here Woodcock, watching his opportunity, opens table drawer, ajtd thrusts in the parcel containing the mortiing gowns, then slams the drawer) Mrs. C. What is the matter ? Wood. Nothing. Mrs. C. (going to table, and standing on the side opposite to Wood- cock, who is eyeing the retnaining two parcels with anxiety) But that wasn't all ! (banging her hand oti one of the parcels to Wood- cock's ^^n-^/ a/«r;«) Hanging up his noble helmet in the hall, and giving his military boots to his servant, he inserted his head into one of those atrocities called smoking caps, and his feet into a pair of embroidered slippers, (during the above, she has kept on banging the paper parcels) Yes ; emljroidered, no doubt, by some unhappy creature he had professed to love as he did me. (walk- ing atoay in an excited manner — Woodcock immediately opens table drawer, aiid thursts in one of the parcels : there not being room for the other. Woodcock hastily thrusts it up under his waistcoat in front.) Mrs. C. What is the matter ? Wood. Nothing ! Mrs. C. Such. Marmy, was my married life for twenty years. Anxious, therefore, that Caroline should escape my wretched fate, I resolved to find her a husband wlio, like herself, had never enjoyed what is cal+ed " Life." Wood. And you pitched upon me ! Mrs. C. I did ; every inquiry I made about you convinced me you were the very man I was looking for. "He is no second Carver," said I, " he is not satiated with the pleasures, the gaieties, the t6 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. amusements of the world," said I, "he has never even tasted them," said I, "and therefore," said I, " he'll be the more ready to plunge headlong into the dazzling and intoxicating scene before him," said 1. Wood. Did you ? Mrs. C. Yes! "Caroline will plunge in with him," said I, "and I — I shall plunge in after both of them," said I. Wood. You ? Mrs. C. Of course ! [zvith increasing animation) Haven't I to make up the twenty years I lost with Carver? yes, and what's more, I mean to make them up ! Yes, Marmy ! balls, concerts, operas, assemblies, masquerades, regattas, races ! — wherever you are, there will I be ! wherever you go, there will I go. Oh, how I long to begin ! how I pant to mingle in "the gay, the gay, the fes- tive scenes — the halls, the halls of dazzling light," and sport the light fantastic toe in the merry, joyous dance! [danci7ig a few steps) Wood, {after a stare of astonishment) Dance? a woman of her substance ! she couldn't do it ! {aloud) " I'm only afraid, my very dear Mrs. Carver, that "light fantastic toe" of yours won't have much to do in our quiet little town of Stow-on-theWold ! Mrs. C. Stow-on-the-Wold ? Faugh! I'm speaking of London! Wood. {wi//i a stati) London ? Mrs. C. Yes ! Where we shall be this very evening. Yes, Marmy, that's the httle agreeable surprise we had in store for you, ha, ha, ha ! Wood, {aside) Now, Woodcock, prove yourself a man. Wood- cock — assert your dignity, Wookcock — and let Carver see you're not going to stand any of Carver's nonsense. Woodcock ! {aloud and drawing hi/nse/f up) Mrs. Lieutenant Colonel Carver — {thrust- iug his hand in his waistcoat, the paper parcel shows itself below it — Woodcock hastily thrusts it up again) I repeat, Mrs. Lieuten- ant Colonel Carver Mrs. C. I know what you are going to say, Marmy, but don't be alarmed ! we've settled everything without you — in short, you'll have nothing whatever to do except to supply the money — there ! Wood, {still more dignified) Mrs. Lieutenant Colonel Carver — {here the parcel again appears below his waistcoat— he thrusts it up so violently that it shmcjs itself above it under his chin) Mrs. C. In the first place that kindest, best of creatures, Mrs. Larkings has already secured apartments for us close to their own residence in the Regent's Park, eight guineas and a half a week, the cheapest thing I ever heard of ! W^ood. Mrs. Lieutenant Colonel Carver Mrs. C. Especially as it includes everything except plate, linen, firing and attendance ; but that's not all, Marmy ; she vows she'll WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 17 not accept a single invitation unless we are included ! When I say we, I mean Caroline, Marmy and me ! {playfully and skipping about, R. ) Wood, {aside — after a savage look at her) There are circum- stances under which a man ought to be allowed to strangle his mother-in-law ! Mrs. C. Ah ! here comes Caroline, already equipped for travelling ! Enter Mrs. Woodcock, r. 2 e.. in travelling costume. Come here, my darling — there! [pointing to Woodcock, who is looking very sulky) Look at him, isn't he the very picture of hap- piness? Doesn't his very eye twinkle with delight? Mrs. W. Yes. And if I were not so happy myself, I should scold you well, sir, for keeping this charming, delightful visit to London a secret from me. (playfully shaking her finger at Wood- cock, 2vho tries to get up a smile) Mrs. C. He knew nothing about it, my dear; he's quite as agree- ably surprised as you are — ain't you, Marmy? Wood, {sulkily) Yes; of course. Mrs. W^. Why, what a serious tone you say it in ! W^ood. Do I? {shouting) I'm delighted ! enchanted! There — is that better ? Mrs. W. (c.) Yes, much better, {suddenly) I see how it is — this arrangement of mamma's may have mterfered with some plan of your own — perhaps you intended taking us to Switzerland ? Wood, [quickly) No, no! Mrs. C. {knowingly, R.) No, my dear; if Marmy had taken us anywhere it would have been to Italy. Wood, {still more quickly, L.) No, no, no; in short, I wish it to be distinctly understood, that having already paid two visits to the Mrs. C. {interrupting) Yes, yes; never mind, Marmy, if you are a good boy, you shall take us to Italy next year! We'll climb up Mount Vesuvius together, Marmy — to the very top, Marmy! {with enthusiasm) Wood, {aside, after a savage look at her) Only let me once get get her there, and I'll plunge her headforemost into the crater. Mrs. C. In the meantime let us think only of London. Mrs. W^. Yes, dear, delightful London ! Remember this is my first visit to the Metropolis! You have been there, I suppose? {to Woodcock) Wood, {forgetting himself) Ha, ha! I should rather think I have — I mean, I've passed through it once or twice. Mrs. C. Yes ; but only on business. Wood. Of course — only on business, [aside) What an atrocious humbug I am ! Mrs. C. And therefore it will be quite as much a novelty to him as to you. l8 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. Wood. Yes. [aside) Novelty ! to a man who has had twenty years of it! I'm in for it — I'm booked for a second innings. Never mind: there's otte point on which they'll find me firm and immovable as Gibraltar itself, and that is, that having already paid two visits to the Enter Mrs. Larkings in travelling dress, door K. 2 E. Mrs. L. (r. c. ) Well, good geople ? but I needn't ask — I see by your happy faces (Woodcock puis on a grin) that my plan of the campaign has met with universal approbation. Mrs. C. (r. ) Yes, we're all charmed with it! Mr. Woodcock especially ! he positively can't find words to express his delight ! Mrs. L. (l. c.) Is it to be wondered at, that having hitherto led so calm, so tranquil, so sedate a life, {looking with intention at Woodcock) he should long to taste the forbidden fruit ? ha, ha ! My only fear is, that when he once begins there'll be no stopping him ! ha, ha, ha ! Wood, (l.) Ha, ha, ha ! [malcing a savage face at Mrs. Lark- ings, aside) Mrs. L. Here, ladies, is a programme I have drawn up of your first three weeks' "Life in London," [showing a paper) an inces- sant, unflagging whirl of dissipation, I promise you. By-the-bye, I quite forgot to mention that Mr. Larkings has placed his riding horses at your disposal. Mrs. C. How delightful ! I long to be in the saddle. ■Wood, [aside, and looking at Mrs. Carver) She'll never stop in it unless she's tied in, she's too round, she'll roll off, to a cer- tainty ! Mrs. W. {to Mrs. Larkings) And can you, will you indeed fulfil all your delightful promises ? Mrs. L. Yes! not only those I have made to you, but to Mr. Woodcock, [with ititetition, and then aside to Woodcock) namely, not to strip the "Wild Woodcock" of his borrowed plumes — not to betray him to a certain lady who turns "very red in the face at the merest trifle," provided he promises to think less of himself, and more of his wife ; in other words, that he consents to exchange programmes, [after some hesitation, Woodcock draws his pro- gramme out of his pocket, looks imploringly at Mrs. Larkings, who shakes her head — he then gives her his programme, and snatching hers out of her hand, thrusts it angrily into his pocket) Enter David, door, r. 2 e. David, [annouftcing) The wedding breakfast be all ready for the company, and the company be all ready for the wedding breakfast ! Mrs. C. Come along! a mouthful of wedding cake and a bumper WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 1 9 of champagne to the health of the bride and bridegroom, and then — hey for London ! (David /ooks very much astonished) Now, Marmy, your arm to Mrs. Larkings. Wood. (l. c.) Yes — one moment ! [taking T)\v\u aside) 'Dz.vid, my stock of dress coats, ditto trowsers, white neckcloths and patent leather boots, that I made you a present of David. (L.) Yes, sir, 'cause you said you had done with them. Wood. I thought I had — but I haven't! I want them again, David, for my "second innings." David, [making a wry face) you can have the morning gowns, caps and slippers instead, [stop- ping D.KXiu who is about to exclaim) Hush! the morning gowns and caps you'll find in that drawer, (pointing to table) and — [look- ing towards the Ladies) — here are the slippers ! [pulling out the parcel fwm under his waistcoat and slipping it into David s hands) Mrs. C. [impatiently) Now, Marmy 1 [they go off, R. 2 E. ) Wood. Coming ! [ru7ts up to join the hxuiES^pitches the parcel to David, who stands in a state of wonder) CURTAIN. ACT II. Scene. — Handsomely furnished Apartment at Mr. Larkings' . Large folding doors at C, showing Ball-room within illuminated and decorated ; handsome clock, with practical hands, R. c. ; dance music heard from inner room, when door is open ; doors, R. andi.. Very loud double knock heard. Maid, [outside) This way if you please, ladies. Enter. MrS. CARVERawrt'MRS. WOODCOCK, rt/L.,^«?f^rt'^'(/4>'LADY'S Maid — the Ladies are both in very fashionable evening costume, opera cloaks, d^c, &^c. Mrs. C. [as she enters, and turning to 7i>ing) Now, Mr. Wood- cock, we're waiting for you. Wood, [without) Here I am, Mrs. Carver. Enter WOODCOCK, L; he has a crush hat on, a shawl round his tuck, an Inverness cape, and carries a large bouquet in each hand — he is also in an elaborate evening dress. Mrs. C. At last ! I thought you were never coming ! Wood. [7U ho looks miserable and in a sulky tone) You wouldn't have me rush into a gentleman's drawing room as if I'd got a wild bull at my lieels? Maid. Allow me, madam, [taking off Mrh. Woodcock's cloak) 20 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. Mrs. C. Now, Marmy, make yourself useful I [motioning him to take off her cloak) Wood. Eh ? oh, I know ! [taking hoM of M.K^. Carvers c/oak be- hind and giving it a violent tug) Mrs. C. How clumsy you are to be sure ! (Maid assists in taking off her cloak) Maid. Here's the ticket, madam, [presenting ticket) Wood. Wait a minute young woman ! [putting both the bou- quets under his arm) Mrs. C. What are you doing ? [taking the bouquets and arrang- ing them) Wood. (/^ Maid) Here's my hat — here's my comforter — here's my Inverness cape — [giving the articles to her) — and, now, give me a ticket for the lot. Maid. Here it is, sir. No. 8l. [giving ticket) Wood. 8i? it's i8! Maid. No, sir, you've got it upside down! {Wxio goes out with. things, R. ) Wood. I see! One's obliged to be particular, because at the very last dinner party I was at, I got a ticket No. 9 in exchange for a bran-new brown silk umbrella ; and when 1 asked for my bran- new brown silk umbrella in exchange for ticket No. 9, they told me that ticket No. 9 was ticket No. 6, and handed me one American overshoe and a walking stick. Mrs. W. Do, mamma, arrange the flowers in my coronet. Mrs. C. They're all right, my dear; that's more than I can say for my dress! only see how Marmy has rumpled it! [smoothing dress) Wood, (c.) Me? come, I like that! considering I had to ride outside, if I rumpled any body, it must have been the coachman ! Mrs. C. Now, my dear, I think we may venture into the ball room! Mrs. W. Without our fans and gloves, mamma ? Mrs. C. Marmy has got them. W^ood. (l. ) Eh? yes. [feelitig in his pockets) No, I haven't. Mrs. C. Nonsense, you put them in your pocket, you must have them somewhere about you ! Wood. If I have, they must have slipped down into my boots ! Would you like me to take ofif my boots ? [sulkily) Mrs. C. I dare say you've dropped them. Wood. No, I'm positive I didn't drop them, [aside) I flung 'em away ! Mrs. C. How careless of you ! what's to be done ? Wood. Well, it strikes me there's only one thing to be done — go home again, [hurrying to door, R., and calling out) Ticket No. 18 ! No. 81 1 two opera cloaks, one hat, one comforter, one Inver- ness cape. WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 2 1 Enter Mrs. Larkings, at c. in fashionable evening dress. — Ladies a«f/ Gentlemen are seen promenading within — Music. Mrs. L, [^seeing the ladies) Ah! you've arrived at last, I quite began to despair of you. Wood, [still at door "R. , he has got the two opera cloaks, the hat, and the comforter, and is holding up and examining an Inverness cape) Holloa! this isn't my Inverness cape! I'll take my oath this is not my Inverness cape ! Mrs. L. Why! What is Mr. Woodcock about? Mrs. W. [plainti'oely) Getting our things together to go home ! He's either lost or mislaid our fans and gloves ! Mrs. L. Wliat of that I I can supply you with no end of fans, and dozens of pairs of gloves! m'^^ W [ ^^' *^^^^"^ y°" — thank you ! (Woodcock, who overhears this, rolls all the things together in " a lump and flings them hack into the room with disgust) Mrs. L. But what makes you so late ? Mrs. C. Oh! it was entirely Marmy's fault. Wood, {sulkily) Of course — of course it was Marmy's fault ! Mrs. W. You can't deny it, Mr. Woodcock. You must know — [to Mrs. Larkings)— that I had bought this coronet expressly for your ball to-night, but when I wanted it to put it on, it had disap- peared ! (Mrs. LKKiLiiiGS looks aside at Woodcock — he puts on a look of innocence) Mrs. C. Yes ! We hunted for it everywhere. At last where do you think it was found? In Marmy's writing desk ! ha, ha, ha! Wood, [forcing a loud laugh) Ha, ha, ha! Mrs. C. Poor fellow ! he remembered afterwards putting it there to prevent its being lost. Wood. [7'cry quickly) Yes ! Mrs. L. Indeed! [looking at Woodcock) Some people might imagine it was to prevent its being found ! Mrs, C and Mrs. W. (c. ) Oh, no — no! Wood. Oh, no — no ! [aside) As I have observed two or three times already, what Larkings could ever have seen in that woman — Enter David, at u, as a page. David. Please, sir, coachman says you didn't tell him what time he's to come with the carriage. Mrs. W. (r.) Now, remember, Mr. Woodcock, you promised me faithfully that we shouldn't be late — say half past two. Wood. \'ery well ! [to David) A quarter past two. Mrs. W. I said, half-past, [smiling) ■Wood, [shouting, L. ) Half-past? Exit David, i.. Mrs. C. Yes! \\e really must have a good night's rest, or we 22 IVOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. shall not be fit for the fancy dress ball to-morrow, [to Mrs. Lar- KINGS) we have settled our costume, my dear! Caroline is going as Little Red Riding Hood, Marmy as a Neapolitan brigand — (Woodcock tnakes a wry face) — and I — a hi Pompadour ! Wood. [^as,idc) I don't exactly know what ^ piinipadoor'\%, but I hope it's something decent ! [dance music again heard) Mrs. L. Come, ladies ! by-the-bye, I musn't forget your fans and gloves — this way ! you'll find us in the ball room in less than five minutes, Mr. Woodcock, this way. Exeunt Mrs. Larkings, Mrs. Carver, awe/ Mrs, Woodcock, at door, c. to l. — door closed. Wood. That attempt of mine upon Mrs. Woodcock's coronet was a contemptible failure, [yawning] I wonder if I shall ever have a good night's rest again ! Never mind, I'll make up for it when I get back to Stow-on-the-Wold — if ever I do get back ; I won't get up for a month! I believe Mrs. Woodcock would go back if it wasn't for Carver. I wish somebody would marry Car- ver ! I'll give any man a thousand pounds if he'll marry — and after all, Carver's not absolutely repulsive — and I'm sure there's plenty of her for the money. Enter Swansdown in evening dress at C. frotn L. Swans, [going to door 'K., and taking ticket out of his pocket) Ticket No. 37. (Maid appears, takes ticket, and disappears) Wood. Why, that's Swansdown ! he's actually giving up his ticket ! Swans, [seeing WoodcoCk) Ah, Woodcock! how d'ye do? [receivitig a hat and cloak fvm Maid, and coming forward putting them on) That'll do ! Good-night, Woodcock ! [crosses to v..) Wood. Stop a bit ! you don't mean to say you're going home, Swansdown ? Swans. Of course I am ! I ought to have been in bed two hours ago. [yajiming) Wood. So ought I! [yawning) I say, Swansdown, how do you manage it ? Swans. Manage what ? Wood. To go home without Mrs. Swansdown ? Swans. I leave her behind ! Wood. Exactly — but — how do you manage to leave her behind ? Swans. I go home without her ! Wood. I see ! Swans. Good night ! [going) Wood, [stopping him again) Don't be in a hurry ! Swans. 1 am so sleepy ! [yawni?ig ) Wood. So am I. [yawning) Swans. The fact is, Woodcock, [yawning. Woodcock does the WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 23 same) before I got married, I had seen a good deal of this sort of fun. [yawnint^ very loud) Wood. So had 1 ! [yawning very loud) Swans. In short, I married, not to go out, but to stop at home . [ yawning) Wood, (yawning) So did I ! but how do you manage it ? Swans. Manage what ? Wood. Why, to stop at home ? Swans. I don't go out ! Wood. Exactly — but how do you manage to " don't go out?" Swans. I stop at home. Wood. I see ! Swans. I hit on a very simple plan ! I had a regular stock of sudden indispositions to meet every invitation that came in ; head- aches, rheumatisms, lumbagoes, &c. , &c., Mrs. Swansdown grumbled a good deal at first, but she soon got used to it, and Wood, [suddenly grasping 'S'W AUSXiO^va' s hand, and shaking it violently) Thank you, Swansdown! I'm obliged to you. Swans- down ! good night, Swansdown. [stopping him again) One moment — when you married Mrs. Swansdown, had she got a Carver .'' Swans. A what ? Wood. A Carver — I mean, a mother ? Swans. No ! W^ood. Never mind ! Good night, Swansdown ! Go home to bed, Swansdown ! Exit Swansdown, l. I'll try it ! 1 will, by Jove ! there's that horrible fancy dress ball to-morrow night ! what " sudden indisposition " shall I have — I've had the measles Enter Larkings at c. in very fashionable ez'ening costume. Lark. (R. c, 5^^m^ WOODCOCK) Ah, Woodcock! All alone, eh? I'm afraid you're not enjoying yourself? Wood. (l. C.) Yes, I am — in a quiet way ! Lark. Delightful party, eh? By-the-bye — I congratulate you — your wife is really a very nice sort of person — very nice, indeed ! [in a patronizing tone) but her dancing has been sadly neglected. However, make yourself easy, I've engaged her for the next three polkas on purpose to teach her the proper step ! Wood. Have you ? Lark. After that I'm engaged to Mrs. Swansdown for the rest of the evening. Swansdown's gone home as usual ! ha, ha ! poor Swansdown ! " when the cat's away," you know, eh ? ha, ha ! Wood, [drawing himself up) Mr. Christopher Larkings! Lark. Come, come. Woodcock — that grave face won't do with me, besides, it isn't because 1 flirt with my friends' wives that I 24 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. love them ! I flirt with yours, but I don't love her, at least, not yet! ha, ha! but I say, old fellow, don't follow Svvansdown's example — what can a man on the wrong side of forty expect if he will go home to bed and leave a pretty young wife behind him, eh ? ha, ha ! {poking Woodcock in the side) Wood. Sir ! my friend, Swansdown, has too much confi- dence Lark, [laughing) Of course he has, that's the delicious part of it, ha, ha ! I say, Woodcock, [ia/cing his arm, and aside to him) I don't mind telling you — and after all, I meant no harm — but when Mrs. Larkings went down to your wedding at — what d'ye call the place — Toad in the Hole Wood, Stow-on-the-Wold, sir! [with dignity) Lark. No, matter! well, I suddenly remarked what a fascinating person she was Wood. Mrs. Larkings? Lark. No. Mrs. Swansdown ! I used to say all sorts of stupid things to her Wood. That I'll be bound to say you did ; well, there's no great harm in that ! Lark. No, but that's not all — not that I meant any harm — well, after a luncheon of grilled chicken and champagne, this after- noon — I don't know how the deuce it happened, but I've a sort of stupid, misty recollection of writing a stupid sort of letter, full of doves and loves, and Cupid's darts and bleeding hearts — you know what I mean — which letter, I'm under a very strong impres- sion, Mrs. Swansdown will find on her dressing table when she gets home to-night. Wood. Mr. Larkings ! Lark. Yes, yes, it was a stupid thing to do, I know, and I heartily wish I had the confounded letter back, but it's too late now, and after all, I meant no harm [po/katnusic heard) There's the polka! I mustn't keep Mrs. Woodcock waiting. Good bye ! [going) Wood. Stop ! Larkings runs out at c. to L. Catch me leaving Mrs. Woodcock alone for a single moment! No, no, I'll stick to her like her shadow. I'll revel in Redowas ! I'll plunge into polkas ! I'll have a shy at the sausages — I mean Schottisches ! [here the polka 7ni(sic becomes louder) 1 don't half like my wife's skipping about with that fellow now ; if I could only manage to get her away [looking at clock, which is in a conspicuous part of the stage) Only a quarter past one. [after a short pause) That clock's too slow, [lottnging up stage, assuming an unconcerned manner and humming a tune — when near the clock, looks fight and left, then Jumps up into a chair, puts the clock on one hour, and jumps oj^ chair again — then taking out his watch) Hey-day! my watch is an hour too slow by that clock, and I know there isn't a WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 25 better clock in England, [putting his watch on an hour, then hastily thrusting it into his pocket, aside) Just in time ! Enter Mrs. Woodcock, ate. from l. Mrs. W. Still here, my dear ? Why don't you come into the ball-room ? Wood. I will presently — there's plenty of time! It's quite early yet! [seeing that he is standing between Mrs. Woodcock and the clock, moves aside) I repeat, it's quite early yet! [pointedly, and looking at clock) Mrs. W. [seeing clock) Eh .? Can it be possible ? Twenty minutes past two ? Wood. Oh! that clock's too fast ! Look here! [taking out his watch) Halloa ! Why it's half-past two I That clock's too slow. Mrs. W. How the time slips away 1 Wood. Yes ! the last hour's gone remarkably fast. Music — some five or six couples, including Mrs. Larkings and Mrs. Carver, come in at C, dancing the polka — the last couple consisting (^ Mrs. Carver and a very Young Man — polka ceases. Wood, [who has gone to door, R.) Ticket No. 81 — two opera cloaks — a hat — a comforter — an Inverness cape ! Mrs. C. Why ! What is Marmy about ? [to Mrs. Woodcock) Mrs. W. Look at the clock, mamma! Mrs, C. Half-past two ! Enter Larkings, at C. from L. Lark. What's that? Half-past two? No such thing, gentle- men — 1 appeal to you ! Out with your watches! (Larkings and Gentlemen take out their watches — each presenting his to his Lady) gSs. } Half-past one! Mrs. W. Another hour ! Delightful ! Mrs. C. Charming ! [polka music remmed) Mrs. Woodcock, allow me. [polka— '^\.K'i>. Carver seizing her fomur partner and whirling him out after the others, at C. to L. ) Wood, [who has been standing looking on with the opera cloaks, G^c, &^c., in his arms — dashes them down in a lump on the stage) That's a failure ! Then I won't go home at all ! I'll sleep here ! [seising up the cloaks, &^c., and dashing them one after the other on the sofa, L. c, and then throwing himself upon them) There ! [burying his head in the pillow) This is very comfortable Swansdown hurries in, at L., i)ery pale and excited. Swans, [as he enters) Woodcock! Woodcock! [seeim^ him on sofa) Ah, there he is! [shaking him) Woodcock, get up! 26 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. Wood, [jumping 7ip) Halloa, Swansdown, come back again ? Swans, [with a savage grin, R.) Yes! ha, ha, ha! ^with a forced laugh) Wood. (L. ) Don't make such dreadful faces! What's the matter ? Swans. Matter? [furiously and grimacing') Wood. Don't grind your teeth in that horrible way. Recollect they're not your own ! Swans. Listen ! [grasping Woodcock's ami) On my return home, I found Mrs. Swansdown'smaid in Mrs. Swansdown's room fast asleep ! Something was lying on the dressing table ! It was a letter ! \Vood. [aside) Larkings's billet ! Swans. Yes ! A letter for Mrs. Swansdown, from — from — fiends and furies ! Wood. I don't know either of the gentlemen. Swans. From Larkings ! Christopher Larkings ! There was no signature ; but I knew the handwriting ! It was a declaration — a declaration ! Don't you hear? [shouting) Wood. Yes— yes! Well! Swans. I rushed into my library — opened my desk — took out my duelling pistols — put them in my pocket, and — here I am ! [savagely and walking to and fro) Wood, [folloiving him) Pistols? Oh, I say, Swansdown — Swansdown ! Oh, 1 say ! Swans, [stopping suddenly) Larkings dies ! Wood. Yes; but don't — don't go and cut him off in the flower of his polka — I mean, his youth ! Swans. Ah ! here comes Mrs. Larkings ! She shall know all ! Enter Mrs. Larkings, at c. from L. Wood. No — no ! [holding Swansdown bcuk, who tries to join Mrs. Larkings) Mrs. L. (r. ) Still here, Mr. Swansdown, then I shall claim you for my partner in the polka ! Wood, [aside to Swansdown) A thousand pardons, madam' — Mrs. L. Refuse a lady ? Fie — nay, I insist upon it ! [Polka music without — Swansdown begins very unwillingly to dance re^ith Wlv(s. Larkings — Woodcock anxiously following them and dancing polka steps after them) Mrs. L. [while dancing) Besides, Mr. Larkings is dancing with Mrs. Swansdown ! Swans. Ah ! [polking savagely) Mrs. L. Yes, fourth time to-night ! Wood, [still dancing after them, and aside to Mrs. Swansdown) Don't tell him that, mum — don't tell him that ! WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. ZJ Mrs. L. Luckily, I'm not jealous ! Christopher is constancy it- self! Swans, [savagely) Is he ? Ha, ha ! Wood, {stt/l dancing after them, and aside to Swansdown) Hush, Swansdown, hush ! Mrs. L. Yes any woman has my full permission to wean Chris- topher's affections from me, if she can! Wood, [still polking by their side, and aside to Mrs. Larkings) Don't aggravate him, mum — don't aggravate him I Swans. Indeed ! What if I place in your hands the proof of your husband's infidelity ? Wood, [same play) Hush, Swansdown ! Mrs. L. Ha, ha ! I defy you ! Wood, [same play) Don't defy him, mum, don't defy him. Swans. Indeed ! then that proof shall be in your hands in half an hour. Wood, [same play) Hush, Swansdown! Swans. A letter! a declaration ! addressed to my wife by — your husband ! Mrs. L. [suddenly stopping) Christopher unfaithful ! Support me ! ( falling into WooDCOCk's arms, who quite bewildered, goes on dancing the polka) Enter Mrs. Carver, c. from l. Mrs. C. [seeing Mrs. Larkings in Woodcock's arm) Ah! Sup- port me ! [falling into Woodcock's other arm, who, still niore bewil- dered, unconsciously keeps up a polka step) Enter Larkings, c. from l. Lark. Ah ! [about to run to Mrs. Larkings) Swans, [stopping him) One moment ! [drags him forward — then, savagely aside to him) We must fight, sir. I know all ! all ! Lark, [aside) The devil! [aloud) Well, sir, to-morrow morning! Swans. No! Now! Now! it's a moonlight night ! Primrose Hill close at hand, and I've pistols in my pocket! Woodcock! [to Woodcock, w/io has placed Mrs. Larkings and Mrs. Carver each in a chair and is fanning them alternatclv, still dancing a polka step — Swansdow.n _^(7^j up, seizes WoODCOCK^ the ann, and drags him down — aside to him) You'll be my second ? I'm going to shoot Larkings ! Lark, [grasping Woodcock's other arm) You'll be my second ? I'm going to shoot Swansdown ! Swans. ) r- I Lark. }C°"^^' They drae;- WoODCOCK out between them at L. , WOODCOCK struggling, &^c. Mrs. C. [who recovers and runs to Mrs. Larkings) My dear Mrs. Larkings, look up, there's a dear creature. 28 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. Mrs. L. Oh, oh, oh ! [sobbing) I'm the most miserable woman in the world ! Mrs. C. [soothingly^ So you shall be, there ! but what has hap- pened ? Mrs. L. (c.) My husband — Christopher has written a love let- ter to Mrs. Swansdown ! Oh, the base, fickle, perfidious monster! Mrs. C. (r. c.) My dear friend, never indulge in a plurality of epithets ; select one, a good one, and stick to it ! I never called Carver anything but a brute ! But are you sure ? Mrs. L. Quite certain ! Mr. Swansdown has promised to send me the letter in half an hour ; if it contains the proof of Christo- pher's inconstancy, oh, what shall I do? Mrs. C. Nothing, till Mr. Swansdown has sent you the letter — Mrs. L. Very well! I'll wait 'till the half hour has expired — patiently, very patiently, [fearing her handkerchief) if the letter doesn't come, I'll go to Mr. Swansdown for it — yes — late as it is, I will ! and you'll go with me, won't you? [imploringly) Mrs. C. Yes, we'll go together ; in the meantime, come with me into the ball room — everybody has doubtless left by this time, and you'll find a glass or two of sherry and a few sponge cakes a great support in your affliction. Come ! Exeunt aic. to L. — Mrs. Carver supporting'M.ft.s. Larkings; at the same moment the door, L., slowly opens, and WOOD- COCK /dr/^ in, then speaks off. Wood. The coast is clear ; you can come in. Enter Larkings luith his right arm in a sling — SwANSDOWNy^/Zozf^- ing, evidently very much out of temper— takes a chair, bangs it down 071 stage, and falls into it, L. Lark. [k. , pressing his right arm) How confoundedly painful my arm is. Wood, (c, soothingly) Yes! I daresay it smarts a little ! Swans, [dashing his hat down on stage) I'm disgusted ! yes, dis- gusted that this stupid ridiculous duel should have occurred ! [to Larkings) Why the deuce didn't you tell me you were sorry for what you'd done — that you meant no harm? my feelings wouldn't have been wounded ! Lark, [pressing his wounded arm) Nor mine either! but that's not the worst of it — if Mrs. Larkings discovers what has taken place, do you know what she'll do ? she'll leave London and bury me alive in the country for the rest of my existence. Wood, [aside) Good gracious! I wonder if Mrs. Woodcock would serve jne the same if/ were to — by jingo ! it's worth think- ing about, [aloud) But how is Mrs. Larkings to know anything about it? / shan't betray you — Swansdown won't — you won't betray yourself? Lark. No ; but my wounded arm will ! besides there's that WOODCOCIC'S LITTLE GAME. 29 unlucky letter of mine, which Swansdown has promised to send to my wife. Swans, [producing letter) Here it is. If I don't send it, what can I say ? Wood, [taking the letter) Say ? why — that you made a mistake in the handwritmg — that it wasn't Larkings's after all ! — but some- body else's — anybody's — [suddenly) — Mine! Lark. ) ^r 3 c \ Yours ? Swans. ] Wood. Yes! What's the consequence? When it's known that you and I have been fighting, no one will imagine it's on account of Mrs. Swansdown ; consequently her reputation will be saved ! Swans. True ! but zounds then ! what have we been fighting about ? Wood. Eh ? oh, for the fun of the thing ! or else some difference of opinion — [suddenly) — the war in America! that's the very thing! you're for the Federates! I'm for the Confederals! — that'll do famously — it'll save you [to Swansdown) from being laughed at ; you [to Larkings) from being buried alive in the country. Swans. ) A J 5 Lark. {And you? Wood. Never mind me. Woodcock's got a little game of his own. [aside) It's a capital idea — a sublime idea ! [to Swansdown) Now go home ; and spread the report of our duel right and left ; mention it at your butcher's, baker's, and candlestick-maker's — in short everywhere ; and don't forget you're a Confederal — I mean — never mind ; go along. Swansdown hurries out at L. Lark. But I say, what the deuce is to become of me in the matter ? Wood. Eh? I have it; you've been my second. Lark. Very well ; then 1 can go to Mrs. Larkings. Wood. Yes. Stop ! take that sling off. Lark. Well, but Wood. Take it off, I say ! Lark, [taking off sling and putting his artn in his waistcoat, with evident pain) There ! and now give me that confounded letter of mine. Wood. Oh dear, no! I can't spare that, [taking letter out of envelope and reading) " To see you is to love you." [aside) And to think I've got to copy such twaddle as that, [listming) Hark ! I hear some one. You know what you've got to do ; don't go and make a mess of it. [aside) And I got married to settle down quietly — it looks like it! Never mind; Woodcock's got his little game ! Hurries out at L. 30 IVOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. Enter Mrs. Larkings and Mrs. Carver, c. Lark, [assuming an air of unconcern) Ah, my dear ! Mrs. L. (r. — extending her arm) Keep your distance, sir. I know all — all! In a word, I am now going to Mr. Swansdown's — you hear — to Mr. Swansdown's, for a certain letter — a love letter, sir, whtten by you to Mrs. Swansdown. Lark, (c.) By me ! Ha, ha, ha! 1 should like to see it. Go and fetch it, my dear ; why don't you go for it, my love ? Tra, la, la ! [hummittg a tune) Enter David, l. David, [to Mrs. Larkings) Please, ma'am, [aside) Don't let me forget what master told me to say. [aloud) Here be a letter, ma'am, from Mr. Swan — Swan Mrs. L. [eagerly) Swansdown? give it me. [snatching letter from David, but keeping her eyes fixed on Larkings, who tries to appear unconcerned, and endeavors to get up a whistle) You may go, David! Exit David, L. Lark, [aside) Woodcock's gone and bungled the business — I knew he would. (Mrs. Larkings tears open the envelope) She's opened it ; it's all over with me! Mrs. L. [reading) "To see you is to love you." [suddenly) Eh ! can it be ? yes ! yes ! [with an exclamation of joy, and throwing her arms round Larkings) Oh, my dear, darling Christopher! Lark, [suffering paiji in his arm, and trying to disengage himself — aside) Confound it ! how she's hurting me ! Mrs. C. What do you mean? Mrs. L. That I'm the happiest woman in the world — that Chris- topher is innocent I [throws her arms again round him) Lark. Don't! don't ! Mrs. C, Innocent? Mrs. L. Yes, as a lamb! the letter isn't in his hand-writing — look ! [giving letter /"£> Mrs. C, aftd making another spring at Lar- kings, who keeps her off ) Mrs. C. [reading letter) " To see you is to " [suddenly, and with a violent scream) Ah ! Mrs. L. rtwrt'Lark. [startled) What's the matter? Mrs. C. [after a patise gives another louder scream) Ah ! the wretch ! the monster ! Mrs. L. Who? who? Mis. C. Woodcock ! the handwriting is his! (Larkings laughs aside) Ah! [another loud scream) Lark. Hush ! you'll alarm the neighbourhood. Mrs. C. (l. C.) I don't care — I must scream! I shall die if I don't scream! take me somewhere where 1 can scream! Mrs. L. Hush ! for Caroline's sake. WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 3 I Mrs. C. True ! she must know nothing — and yet I must scream. I'll go out in the street and scream. Mrs. L. Hush ! had you not better take poor Carohne home on some pretext or other ! Mrs. C. I will ! and then I'll come back and kill Woodcock. I'll send for a cab this moment ! Mrs. L. Pray be cautious. Mrs. C. I will ! but I shall sufifocate if I don't scream — I have it — I'll scream in the cab! [hurries out, c.) Mrs. L. [with an imploring look at Larkings) Oh, can you for- give me ? Lark, [in a patronizing tone) Yes, yes ! Mrs. L. Dearest, best of Christophers — [suddenly embracing him again) Lark. Don't ! don't! Mrs. L. How could I suspect you? but isn't this dreadful con- duct of Mr. Woodcock's! actually before the honeymoon is over! Lark. Very shocking, indeed. Mrs. L. The man ought to be put in the pillory ! Lark. At the very least. Mrs. L. Ah ! [tenderly) you wouldn't deceive your fond confid- ing wife? [affectionately putting her arm in his wounded one) Lark, [making a grimace) Not for the world ! Enter David, l. David, [in a flurried manner) Oh please, ma'am a policemarj has just rang at our bell Mrs. L. A policeman ? David. Yes, ma'am ; seeing we hadn't gone to bed, he called to say that as he was going over Primrose Hill, about a quarter of an hour ago (Larkings pricks up his cars) he picked up this card case, ma'am ! (Larkings hastily fumbhs in all his pockets) Lark, [aside) Mine, by Jupiter ! David. So he opens it, ma'am, and [to LA^KXViGSwho is making violent signs to him to hold his tongue) What's the matter, sir? (Mrs. Larkings turns toward Larkings, who again tries to get up a whistle) Mrs. L. But why bring it to our home ? David. Because it's Mr. Larkings's card case, ma'am ! Mrs. L. (to Larkings, suspiciously) So you've been to Primrose Hill, it seems ? Lark. [bothered)'Wes — the fact is — the rooms were so hot — and — never having seen the sun set — 1 mean the moon rise — I — {aside) I'd better hold my tongue. Mrs. L. [after a searching look at him) Where did the man say he picked this card case up? 32 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. David. Where the shooting took place, ma'am. Mrs. L. The shooting? David. Yes, ma'am (^^^m^ Larkings again 7naking signals to him) Yes, sir! (Mrs. Larkings looks round and Larkings again assumes an air of unconcern) He heard two shots, ma'am — bang, bang ; and ran to the spot just in time to see three gentlemen walking off ; and [durijtg this LARKINGS has been again repealing his signals to him) Mrs, L. You can go, David. Exit David, at L. Larkings ! [eagerly to him) what does this mean ? Speak, Chris- topher — what has happened.'' [grasping Larkings's arm, who makes a grimace) Ah ! you needn't explain ; I see it all — there has been a duel ! Lark, (l.) Well Mrs. L. (c.) Don't speak; between Mr. Swansdown and you. Lark. No, no. Mrs. L. Who then? He believed ihaX you wrote the letter to his wife ? Lark. Yes, yes. Mrs. L. And challenged you? Lark. Yes, yes. Mrs. L. And you fought? Lark. Yes — no, no. Mrs. L. Yes, yes — no, no. Explain ! No ! I see it all. Lark, [aside) She's always seeing it all ! [crosses to R.) Mrs. L. When you got on the ground, Mr. Woodcock, who was probably your second Lark. My second ! yes — exactly. Mrs. L. Confessed that he was the real culprit Lark, [quickly) That's it. Mrs. L. And received Mr. Swansdown' s fire Lark. In the arm. Mrs. L. Wounded ! Mr. Woodcock -wounded ! Lark. Yes. [recollecting) No; that is [aside) Zounds! noth- ing was said about that. Mrs. L. Poor Mr. Woodcock! Which arm was it? Lark. Eh — why — the arm that held the sword ! Mrs. L. The sword ! Lark. Yes — no, I mean the pistol ! [aside) Now to find Wood- cock, and put him on his guard, [turns and sees WOODCOCK, who enters at L., with his left arm in a sling — aside) Huzzah ! he's got his arm in a sling ! Mrs. L. [looking at WOODCOCK, who comes slowly forward, as if very inuch ashamed of himself) It is true, then. Unhappy man, I pity you! WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 33 Wood, [assuming a veTy penitential voice and manner) I don't deserve it. Lark, [aside) Confound it ! he's got the wrong arm in the sling ! Ahem ! [makim^ violent signs to WOODCOCK to change arms) Mrs. L. [looking at Woodcock) Why, how's tliis! [to Lakk- iNGs) You told me Mr. Woodcock's wound was in the right arm ! Lark, [confused, R.) Did I ? Mrs. L. Yes — you distinctly said "the arm that held the pis- tol." Wood, [very quietly, c.) That's quite right I'm a left-handed Woodcock. Mrs. L. (l.) It's very shocking! but there's something worse behind. Wood, [looking behind him) Where! Mrs. L. I mean that Mrs. Colonel Carver knows everything. She'll return immediately ; when she's done screaming, your only hope is to plead guilty at once and sue for pardon for Caroline's sake — you know that's her tender point! Wood. I will ! I'll throw myself at once upon her tender point. Mrs. C. [-without) Don't tell me! I can't — I won't believe it! Enter Mrs. Carver, hurriedly, R., and sees Woodcock with his arm in a sling. Mrs. C. [assuming a very pathetic attitude) Ah ! it's true ! [screams and /alls into chair, Mrs. Larkings runs to her — WOOD- COCK and Larkings exchange winks and laugh) Mrs. L. [to Mrs. C) Hush! the arm is only slightly, very slightly wounded. Mrs. C. I know better! they'll have to amputate it! I shall have a one-armed son-in-law — a wretched, helpless cripple ! [suddenly to Mrs. Larki.ngs) My dear friend, go to poor dear Caroline — don't leave her till I've had time to do all my screaming! I know I screamed in the cab, but not half enough ! Go, go ! Exit Mrs. Larkings, c, y?5//tniW by Larkings, 7oho again exchanges 7uinks, &^c. , with WoODCOCK. Mrs. C. [watching them out and then turning to WoODCOCK, who looks at her and then turns his head away as if ashamed of him- self) Am I awake.'' or is it a dream — a nightmare? No! there he stands — at least, all that is left of him. Oh, Marmy! [sobbing loudly and burying her face in her handkerchief) Wood, (r.) Oh, Carver ! [imitating Mrs. Carver) Mrs. C. [indignantly) So, sir ! Scarce ten days married to the sweetest, the gentlest of her sex, you actually have the audacity to indite a declaration of love to another woman — a married woman too ! [suddenly bursting again into sobbing) Oh, Marmy ! Wood. Oh, Carver! [same play) Mrs. C. (L.) I couldn't have believed it ! [ditto) 34 WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. Wood. No, more could I ! {ditto) You've done it. Carver ! You would \>x\\\'g me to London, and what's the result? — that I'm a lost Woodcock, {in a tone of pretended anguish) Mrs. C. Oh, Marmy ! [sobbing very loud) \'^«/ — Come to my arms, Carver! [making a rush open-armed at Mks. Carver, who, alarmed, avoids hitn) Mrs. C. [alarmed) The man's mad ! I'm ashamed of you ! Wood. So am I ! But you would bring me to London ! you know you would ! [trying again to throw his arms around her) Mrs. C. Help! Enter Maid-servant, running, R. Oh, Susan ! [running to her) Wood. Oh, that's Susan, is it ? Lovely Susan ! embrace your Woodcock ! [rushes with open arms at Susan, who, alarmed, rushes out screafning) Mrs. C. [clasping her hands) And this is my work ! Wood. Yes, you've done it Carver ! never mind ; don't cry old girl ! [throwing his arm aroutid Mrs. Carver's neck) Mrs. C. Oh, Marmy, Marmy, if you've any love for Caroline, leave this wicked, abominable, detestable town this very morning by the very first train, and go back to Stow-on-the-Wold — I im- plore ! I entreat you ! WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. 35 Wood, [after a pretended struggle with himself, then smiiing be- nignantly) Carver, your tears have conquered ! do with me as you will, [throws himself into her arms and makes a 7ury face ot'er her shoulder, then looking towards L. ) Swansdown ! what the deuce can he want? [retiring to back as Swansdown enters, L. ) Swans, [as he enters) It's all right, Woodcock [seeing 'M.R?,. Carver) Madam — I Mrs. C. Mr. Swansdown, 1 know all ; your duel with my un- happy son-in-law Swans, [asidt') Bravo! she's on the wrong scent, [aloud) V^tW, madam, I presume I have as much right to sympathize with the Federals as he has with the Confederates? Wood, [who has been trying to attract Swansdown' S notice by making signals) He's made a mess of it! I knew he would. Mrs C. Federals — Confederates ! I see — a subterfuge to con- ceal the real cause of your quarrel. You may rely on receiving a letter of apology — ample apology from Mr. Woodcock ! Swans. Not till he's recovered the use of his right arm, I beg. Wood, [behind) Eh? of course; it was the r/^/z/ arm I [taking his left arm out of t/ie sling and inserting the right) Mrs. C. The right arm, you mean the left. (Woodcock changes arms again) Swans. The right ! I think I ought to know. Mrs. C. The left ! I suppose I can believe my eyes. Swans. Right ! Mrs. C. Left ! Swans. Right ! ) , , , > Mrs. C. Left! } (^""'^^^l Wood, ["vho has kept on changing arms rapidly) Oh, bother! there ! [stuffing both arms into the sling) Enter Mrs. Larkings hurriedly at C.from L. Mrs. L. {running to Woodcock) She's here — Caroline ! she's heard of the duel ; that you are wounded in the right arm — (Woodcock who has both arms in the sling, dra-ws out the left) though of course I knew it was the left, (Woodcock changes arms again) when luckily — I don't know how it came into myhead — I told her it was not her husband but mine who — she's here — don't undeceive her ; but first off with this, [dragging the sling violently (7^ Woodcock's neck) Enter Mrs. Woodcock, hurriedly, c. from L. Mrs. W, {runnintr to Woodcock) You are not wounded ? it was not you then — Oh, I'm so happy ! [hetv Lakkings appears at C.) Mrs. L. [seeing him, runs to him and flings the sling orer his neck) Hush, not a word ! [taking hold of his right arm and thrust- ing it violently into the sling) 36 woodcock: 's little game. Lark, [crying out with pain) Oh ! Mrs. L. \aside to him) That's right — pretend it hurts you ! [lead- ing him down) Here is the real culprit ; but as he is sufficiently punished already, I forgive him. [aside to Larkings, who is about to speak) Hush! You'll have to wear the sling for a week. I'll tell you why another time ! Lark. With all my heart, [aside to WoODCOCK shaking his head) Thanks to you, my wife suspects nothing ! Swans, [aside to Woodcock, and shaking Woodcock's other hand) Thanks to you, no one suspects mine ! Wood. And thanks to both of you. [shaking both their hands) I'm going back to Stow-on-the-Wold — that is, if our kind friends assure us that success has crowned " Woodcock's Little Game ! ' • CURTAIN. NEW ENTERTAINMENTS. THE JAPANESE WEDDING. A ciivtiime pantomime represcntalion of the Wedding Ceremony in Japanese Iiigli life. I'lie company cou>i>ts of the bride and groom, their parents, si.\ bridesmaids, and the officiating personage appropriately tailed the " ('•o-belwcen." There are various lorni.iiitle-i, iiicludiiig salaams, Ica-driiiking, eating riie-iakes, and giving pre«-nts. No words are spoken. The ceremony (which occupies abont 50 minute"), with the "tea-room," fills out an evening well, though music and olher otiractions may be added. Can be represented by young ladic, alone, if preferred. Price, 45 Cents. AN EVENING WITH PICKWICK. A Literary and Dramatic Dickens Enterlainmenl. — Introduces the I'ickwick Club, the Wardles of Dingley Dell, the Kat l!oy, Alfred Jingle, Mrs. Leo Hunter, Lord Mutaiihcd and Count Smorltork, Arabe'la Allen and I'.ob Allen, Rob Sawyer, Mrs. and Master Bardcll, Mrs. Cliippins. Mrs. Wellcr, Stiggins, Tony WoUer, Sam Weller, and the L.idy Traveller. Price, 25 cents. AN EVENING WITH COPPERFIELD, A Literary and Dramatic Dickens Entertainment. — Introduces Mrs. Coppcrlield, Davie, the I'eggotys, the Murdstones, Mrs. Ciummidge, Little Em'ly. Itarkis, Betsey Trotwood, Mr. Dick and his kite, Steerforth, the Cre.-iklcs, Traddks. Rosa Dartle, Miss Mowcher, Uriah Heep and his Mother, the Micawbers, Dor.i and Gyp, and the ivoiden-Iegged Gatekeeper. Price, 25 cents. These " Evenings with Dickens " can be represented in whole or in part, reiiuire but little memorizing, do not demand experienced actors, are not troublesome to pre- pare, and are suitable for performance either on the platform or in the drawing room. THE GYPSIES' FESTIVAL. A Musical Eiitertainmenl for Vo\ing People. Introduces the Gypsy Queen, Fortune Teller, Yankee Peddler, and a Chorus of Gypsies, of any desired number. The scene is supposed to be a Gypsy Camp. The costumes are very pretty, but simple ; the diab gue bright ; the music easy and tuneful ; and the ilrill movement.^ and calisthenics are graietul. Few properties and no set scenery required, so that the entertainment can be represented on any platform. Price, 25 cents. THE COURT OF KING CHRISTMAS. A CHRLST.MAS EMERIAINMF.NT. 'Jhe .-iction lakc-s pLice in Sant.T Cbius land on Christmas eve, and represents the bustling preparations of St. Nick and his attendant worthies for the gratification of all children the ne.\t day. The cast may include as many as 36 characters, though fewer will answer, and the cnter- t.Tinment represented on a platform, without troublesome properties. The cos- tumes are simple, the incidental music and drill movements graceful and easily managed, the dialogue uncommonly good, and the whole thing (piite above the average. A representation of this entertainment will cmsc the young folks, from six to sixty, fairly to turn themselves inside out with delight, and, at the same lime, enforce the impcirlant moral of Pc.ice and Good AVill. Price, 25 cents. K/:c/:y tl i " ri v.v. isiii-.n. ILLUSTRATED TABLEAUX FOR AMATEURS. A new scries of TabUaux / Vr'a«/j, by Makiha C W'ei.I). In tins scries each description is- accoirjpanied with a full-page illustration of the scene to be represented. PARI' I.— MISCELLANEOUS TAP.LKArX.— Contains General Introduction, 12 Tableaux and 14 Illustrations. Price, 25 Cents. PART II.— MISCELLANEOUS TAIil, FAUX.— Containsjlitroduelion, .2 1 .l- bleaux and 12 illu-itrations. Price, 25 Cents. ~ . SAVED FROM THE WRECK. A drama in three acts. Eight male, thro ■ f-male characters. ] inu-, two hours and a half. Price, 15 Cents. BETWEEN TWO FIRES. A comedy-.lrama in ibiee acts. Fight male, throe fem:ile characters. Time, two hours and a half. Price, 15 Cents. BY FORCE OF IMPULSE. A d.am.i in five acts. Nine male, ihr-c femde characters. Time, two hours and a half. Price, 15 Cents. A LESSON IN ELEGANCE. A cmedy i.t one act. Four female characters. Time, ihirlv minutes. Price, 15 Cents. W^ANTED, A CONFIDENTIAL CLERK. A farce in one act. Six male characters. Time, thirty minutes. Price, 15 Cents. SECOND SIGHT. A farcical comedy in one act. l"onr male, one fcm.ilc th.it.ic- ler. Time, one hour. Price, 15 Cents. THE TRIPLE WEDDING. A dram.i in three acts. Four male, four female characters. Time, one hour and a quorter. Price, 15 cents. r«7 A ny cf the aht-nu- will he sent by mail, fflst^ni-e,i-f/>! r/ rhe n n next it / r i. es. _^^ HAROLD ROORBACH, Publisher, 9 Murray St., New York. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS HELMER' ACTOR'S MAKE-l A rra<1ical and Syttefnatic Cuitit to the Art 014 528 477 6 PRICE, 25 CENTS. With exhaustive treatment on the Use of Theatrical Wigs and Beards, The Make-up and its requisite materials, the rifferent features and their management, typical character Masks, etc. With Special Hints to Ladies. Designed for the vsE OF Actors and Amateurs, and for both Ladies and Gentle- men. Copiously Illustrated. CONTENTS. \. Theatrical Wigs. — The Style and Form of Theatrical Wigs T