[Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S06, by Isaac P. Noyes, in the 
 Office of the Librarian of Congress at Wasliington.] 
 
 Published bj' the author, because of his inability to otherwise reach the public. 
 
 THE WAYS OF LIFE. 
 
 The Union— The Divorce— The Reunion. 
 
 CAST. 
 ANSEL VAN PERSON. 
 AGNES BLOODGOOD (later, Mrs. 
 
 Van Person). 
 ELIZA (lioiisekeeper). 
 General VAN POOLE. 
 PENELOPE SULLVAN. 
 FITZGEEALD. 
 
 Professor HOX. 
 Doctor O'KEE. 
 JEDEDIAH MOONLIGHT 
 
 (inventor). 
 POLICE. 
 VOICE. 
 
 SCENE: In the Bloodgood mansion. 
 VOICE. The day enters very pleasant, 
 
 The forenoon shall be cloudj' and damp. 
 
 There comes a storm 
 
 And all is forlorn; 
 
 Without reason 
 
 Darkness reigneth for a season, 
 
 Then all again is bright. 
 
 And happiness lasts way into th night. 
 
 Ansel shall pass under the rod 
 
 Thus like Job, he shall prove ' ' elf to God. 
 Enter Agnes and Mr. Van Perso . 
 AGNES. Mr. Van Person, I am glad 
 that we met so pleasantly on the cars. To ride half a day or more, 
 and to have no reading matter with which to entertain yourself, the 
 hours seem long. I was glad that you had those illustrated papers. 
 I did think of buying some of the newsboy if he came around, but as 
 he did not appear until you had left the car, evidently gone to the 
 smoker, and I was absorbed in your papers, I did not buy of him. 
 
 it vou called. I am glad 
 
JUSSfdUJ XXe. No, 
 
 y noPY 
 
 COPY B, 
 
 I was very bold, I will admit, but after looking at your papers (you 
 dropped them on the floor, and they were then as near my seat as 
 yours) you came in and caught me. I felt guilty and small. I never 
 did such an act before in my hfe. I don't know what prompted me. 
 • VAN PERSON. The old Calvinist would say that it was all fore- 
 ordained; that some good angel led us on until he brought us to- 
 gether. I don't care to read much while traveling. I always get. 
 about a half a dozen illustrated papers; pictures do not tire. At in- 
 tervals I look out on the passing panorama; once in awhile you see a 
 lovely picture or something unique; but it is most provoking when 
 you are intent on looking at something to have a long freight train 
 come along and interrupt your view. 
 
 AGNES. You may remember that after awhile I took the vacant 
 chair on the other side, away from the other track? 
 
 VAN PERSON. Yes, I saw you move away from me, and I won- 
 dered why, but I noticed when afternoon came and the sun was 
 hot on that side, you were glad to get back to your own seat. 
 
 AGNES. It wasn't so much the sun as it was that repulsive man 
 who came in at Boltonville. He smelled of whiskey and onions, 
 a combination that may be pleasant to some, but it was exceedingly 
 repulsive to me. 
 
 VAN PERSON. I, too, saw him, for I met him in the smoker, 
 and he was smoking a most vile cigar — two for five, I should think — 
 yet he was well dressed, even supporting a fine diamond ring, fine 
 gold watch and chain — chain a little ' ' loud ' ' perhaps. I always carry 
 with me a menthol tube. [Shows it.] When I meet a person with 
 a vile breath I take out this tube and apply it to my nose, thus 
 
 AGNES. When I come in contact with that sort of breath from a 
 low person I am not surprised, but when the person, by his or her 
 look indicates refinement, I am surprised. I want to advise them to 
 consult a doctor. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Yes, they should; but they seldom, if ever, real- 
 ize it, and there don't seem to be many who have the audacity to 
 tell them. 
 
 AGNES. That is true ; but I enjoyed your papers. I liked the 
 pictures, and I didn't overlook the jokes. Where all the jokes come 
 from is a mystery to me. There was the man who went to heaven. 
 He said to St. Peter, "1 womd have you understand that I am a self- 
 made man." " If that is so?" said St. Peter. "This is not the place 
 you are looking for; what you want is a home-made heaven." Then 
 there was the joke about the old man and the son. It seems that 
 both died at the same time. When they reached the stairs leading to 
 higher regions they were each given a piece of chalk, and told to 
 write upon each stair as they ascended some sin that they had com- 
 mitted in life. This was a difficult thing for the son to do, so his 
 progress up the golden stairs was slow. Not so with the old man. 
 

 He went up with considerable speed. After awhile the son saw the 
 old man coming down. " Pa, where are you going?" " I am going 
 down for more chalk." 
 
 VAN PERSON. Did you see that story about Jedediah's scheme? 
 
 AGNES. No; just then you came in and caught me. I felt a little 
 cheap. What was it? 
 
 VAN PERSON. Jedediah owned a small rocky farm, and yet he 
 was very flush with money. People were surprised, and for some 
 time wondered how he suddenly became so well off. Jedediah's 
 house was located where there was a slight bend in the road, where 
 he could see persons and teams two or three miles off. He had an 
 old cart that was not worth more than ten dollars, and a lot of spare 
 wheels. 
 
 AGNES. For what purpose did he want a lot of spare wheels? 
 
 VAN PERSON. You will soon see. He had his cart well loaded 
 with stones. Opposite to his gate he put a large stone, in order 
 to make the passage narrow. When he saw an automobile he ran his 
 cart out on the road; that is, if he had time. Sometimes the autos 
 were too quick for him, but he caught some of them. They would 
 run into his cart, break a wheel, perhaps two wheels. Then there 
 would be some tall swearing, and he'd demand ten or fifteen dollars' 
 damages, and he generally got it. Sometimes there was a compro- 
 mise. If he got no more than ten dollars apiece, it paidhim; he 
 often made forty or fifty dollars a day; never less than twenty. I tell 
 you Jedediah's scheme was great. No wonder he made mouey. He 
 is a genius! After one smashup he'd repair his old cart, and be 
 ready for the next one. So you see why he kept on hand a number 
 of spare wheels. 
 
 AGNES. Do you think there was ever a Jedediah? 
 
 VAN PERSON. No, but these comic papers must have something 
 to fill up, so they pay well for such contributions. While no one 
 believes these stories, all who read them laugh at them; and on the 
 train, where people do not care for heavy reading, they read such. 
 There is the joke about the man who one day said to his wife, "Some 
 men like to stare at women." His wife replied, "There is one place 
 and occasion where they do not look at women." "Where and when 
 is that?" " In the street car," rephed the wife, " when the man is 
 sitting and the woman standing." Such meetings as ours come to 
 many seldom more than once in a lifetime. Miss Bloodgood. Our 
 meeting, on my side at least, was a case of love at first sight. 
 
 AGNES (provokingly). And whom did you love? 
 
 VAN PERSON. You, of course. I now make my formal announce- 
 ment. I love you Agnes — Miss Bloodgood ! I am like the man in 
 that other joke. 
 
 AGNES. What is that? 
 
 VAN PERSON. Miss Varley says to her friend, Mr. Dudley, "The 
 
first time Mr. Turnbull met me he took me for a Vassar girl." Mr. 
 Dudley: "I should not take you for a Vassar girl." She: "What 
 would you take me for?" Mr. D. : "For better or worse " — and the 
 proposal was out. 
 
 AGNES. So you propose to me? You are certainly ingenious. 
 But don't you think that it is rather premature on your part to pro- 
 pose on so short an acquaintance? We haven't known each other 
 a month yet, and this is only our second meeting. You don't know 
 much about me, and I know as little about you. 
 
 VAN PEESON. What you say is true. But I love you and even 
 before we proceed further I want to know my fate. It will be easier 
 to be refused now then say six months from now. I can stand a 
 refusal now better than later on. 
 
 AGNES. But suppose I should say yes. Are you in condition to 
 accept me, and provide for me such a home as I have been used to ? 
 VAN PERSON. I'll admit that I could not support this house, or 
 one like it, but if you'll be content to come to my house, I'll warrant 
 that it is as good as most of the rich people started with. If you'll 
 come with me, I'll make the home as pleasant for you as possible. 
 
 AGNES. But I shall do no such thing. Love in a cottage may be 
 
 all right for those who have never had any thing larger and better, 
 
 but I do not propose to live in a cottage, unless it be for a short time 
 
 in a cottage by the sea. 
 
 VAN PERSON. There I have you, for my cottage is near the sea. 
 
 AGNES. Where is it? 
 
 VAN PERSON. It is about five miles from the village of Sageville, 
 and I am within a mile of the sea; ground slightly rising. You can 
 hear the billows all the time. 
 AGNES. Not in a calm ? 
 
 VAN PERSON. Yes; at one point there is a bed of pebbles. The 
 water rushes among them and breaks upon the beach, no matter 
 which way is the wind, calm or storm. The ocean is restless. Off 
 to the right the beach is fine for bathing. So, you see, I have you. 
 AGNES. In your mind' s eye ! Would you expect me to stay there 
 the whole year round ? 
 
 VAN PERSON. No; you could come to the city in winters. We'll 
 establish the firm of Van Person and Bloodgood. Van Person will 
 entertain Bloodgood during the warmer months, and Bloodgood will 
 entertain Van Person during the cooler months. 
 
 AGNES. But I would not think of staying there over three months 
 in the year. You keep me three months; I keep you nine months; 
 nothing equitable in that. 
 
 VAN PERSON. You can go to the city, and I'll visit you occasion- 
 ally. When I have business in town I'll look in on you. 
 
 AGNES. By the way, what is your business ? I never thought to 
 ask. 
 
VAN PERSON. I suppose some folks might call me a drummer. 
 But I am the junior member of the firm of Birch, Bark & Company, 
 who manufacture all sorts of furniture. Once in a while, for recrea- 
 tion, I take trips and act as drummer. Do you want any furniture? 
 I shall be pleased to unite business with pleasure. 
 
 AGNES. That accounts for it. Drummers are not a bashful set. 
 
 VAN PERSON. But we, that is, you and I, don't get anywhere. 
 Now, be so kind as to say yes or no. 
 
 AGNES. Suppose I say no. 
 
 VAN PERSON. [Aside: I know that she would not mean it; she's 
 only playing with me.] I'd much rather you say yes. 
 
 AGNES. Well, seeing that you are so persistent. [Aside: With 
 me, too, it was love at first sight.] There is so much of the drummer 
 nature in you, I'll say yes, just to see how it shall affect you. 
 
 VAN PERSON. I am delighted with the order. You think me 
 bold — drummerlike — but drummer or no drummer, had you not been 
 kind to me, I should never have had the audacity to make the slight" 
 est advancement towards you. 
 
 General Van Poole and Miss Sullvan are announced and enter. 
 
 AGNES. Glad that you have called. And you, too, Miss Sullvan. 
 General, do you remenjber when we first saw each other on the cars, 
 coming from Westport ? 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Yes, I remember your face, though I should 
 not had you not called mj^ attention to it. Then the gentleman 
 opposite was aboard the train. I did not know that you were in 
 company, though. [Aside: Confound the fellow ! Who is he? He 
 appears to be quite at home here. I was in hopes of getting ahead 
 of him or any other man. But he'll find me a suitor worthy of his 
 skill. He looks verdant. To Agnes:] I brought with me your old 
 friend. Miss Sullvan. She is to remain in the city for some time, 
 and I would like you to show her about — to the gallery, museum, 
 etc., but don't forget the stores. She may want to do some shopping. 
 
 AGNES. Certainly. Miss Sullvan, I shall be happy to entertain 
 you. We'll let the General entertain himself. Perhaps he'd prefer 
 the club to our company. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. [Aside: I'd prefer to be alone with Miss Blood- 
 good. If this country gentleman is trying any of his games upon 
 her, I can best him. I'll see what he is made of. To Van Person:] 
 Mr. Van Person, you are a drummer, are you not? In the smoker I 
 heard you talking furniture to one of the passengers. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Not exactly, though I do act as such once in a 
 while. 
 
 Gen. VAN POOLE. Do you like it ? 
 
 VAN PERSON. Yes; for diversion. Then I like to come in con- 
 tact with the world. You meet such queer characters — meet some 
 
6 
 
 jovial fellows and get a yarn or two from them; or perhaps better, 
 rough Jokes. That man with whom I was talking told me a good one. 
 In olden times, when they had the old-fashioned ships for war ves- 
 sels, two Irishmen were on deck one night on watch. It was agreed 
 between them that they'd fire off one of the guns. Pat was to fire 
 and Mike was to stand by the muzzle and catch the ball in a mess 
 kettle. The firing aroused the whole ship; all came on deck. The 
 captain looked around, but nowhere could he see Mike. "Where is 
 Mike ? " says he to Pat. "I don't know, your honor, but if he comes 
 back as quick as he went, he'd be here damned quick." 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. No, I didn't hear it. Then I don't care for 
 stories of any kind. Fondness for them indicates a low mind. 
 [Aside: I guess I hit him then.] 
 
 VAN PERSON. Then some of the wisest and best men we ever 
 had were of a low order. There was Governor Vance, of North Caro- 
 lina; there was Abraham Lincoln, and the smartest men I have met 
 on the road were fine storytellers. There is no smarter business man 
 living than Mr. Coleman, the gentleman with whom I was talking. 
 It was he who told me that story; he was full of them. Then there 
 was one — a short poem, rather than a storj' — 
 
 The poor benighted Hindoo 
 
 Does the best he kin do; 
 
 He sticks to his caste 
 
 From first to last — 
 
 For pants he makes his skin do. 
 
 Then there was — 
 
 The smiling young lady of Niger, 
 
 She rode upon the back of a tiger; 
 
 At the end of the ride 
 
 She rode inside. 
 
 And her smile was upon the face of the tiger. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Miss Bloodgood, shall you be in to-morrow? 
 If so, I will bring Miss Sullvan around. Do not spare her; take her 
 to Rounds, Cohen & Co.'s store. Let her see what stores we have 
 here. 
 
 AGNES. I should be pleased to have you both come to dinner 
 next Monday, and you, too, Mr. Van Person. 
 
 VAN PERSON. I thank you very much, but my business will not 
 permit. I thought possibly I might sell you some furniture, but I'll 
 wait — no hurry. Did you ever hear of the man who was in no hurry 
 to go to his own funeral? 
 
 AGNES. No. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Well, he died one day. As he was journeying 
 on towards the golden city he met a wily old fellow by the name of 
 Bumsell, who, for a consideration, told him of a side entrance to the 
 
city, and showed him the way. But for this I don't beUeve he would 
 ever have gotten inside of the enchanted enclosure. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Where is the point to that yarn? 
 
 VAN PERSON [Aside: You are that point. To Miss Bloodgood:] 
 Well, Miss Bloodgood, I must go. I liave only fifteen minutes to get 
 that next train. Good evening, General, Miss Sullvan and Miss 
 Bloodgood. 
 
 [As he goes out, being behind the others, he throws a kiss to Agnes. 
 She smiles and puts her hand to her mouth.] 
 
 Gen. VAN POOLE. Suppose we take a ride to-morrow. Miss 
 Sullvan and I will be here about half-past ten. How will that suit 
 you? 
 
 AGNES. Very w^ell. You haven't any story to tell, have you? 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. No, I never tell stories, and I have little re- 
 spect for the storyteller. It does for boys and for such men as have 
 nothing else on hand. But I despise them. I'll relate something I 
 saw — call it a story or not. One day I was on Main street, and there 
 was a horse down. The crowd gathered. One man came, pushing 
 himself into the crowd. " Let me in there; let me see that horse." 
 From his tone all thought him a veterinary surgeon, so they let him 
 pass. When he reached the curb he quietly folded his arms and stood 
 there. Some one ventured to ask him what was the matter with 
 the horse. His reply was, "That's a mighty sick horse; that's a 
 mighty sick horse," and that was all he said. Now^ that's true. I 
 heard it. myself, on Main street, last June, June the 24th. I remem- 
 ber it, because it was the longest day of the year. 
 
 AGNES. Pretty good story. General, I'll be ready. Now, Miss 
 Sullvan, I won't force you to see our whole city in one day; sight- 
 seeing is fatiguing. We'll take our time. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. [Aside: That shows that I have found favor 
 with her. She knows when she meets a gentleman, and one who is 
 good looking. I don't believe she'd give that country-looking chap 
 such a gentle hint. If she did, he would not be able to take it. To Miss 
 Bloodgood]: I appreciate your delicate invitation; we'll be there. 
 Then I want you to take lunch with us at the Wellington; it is the 
 finest place in the city. 
 
 AGNES. That will be pleasant, and it will give Miss Sullvan a 
 chance to see our finest restaurant. But then she may have as fine 
 at home. 
 
 Miss SULLVAN. I came here to see something, and I am glad to 
 fall in with those who are able to show me. When I get home I 
 must tell them the story of the young man who came here. His aunt 
 showed him to many people. When he went home he said he saw 
 four hundred of them. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Penelope, I did not know that you could tell 
 stories. We shall have to look out for you, won't we, Miss Blood- 
 good? 
 
AGNES. I have no objections to stories, such as have been told 
 here by you and Mr. Van Person. 
 Gen. van POOLE. Then we'll call for you at half-past ten. 
 
 Au revoir. 
 
 SCENE: Fitzgerald's laiv office. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Fitz, when I ara in town I must call on you. A 
 few months ago I met Miss Bloodgood. There seemed to be an affinity 
 between us. One never knows what he can do until he has faced 
 the music. We met — we met — we talked 
 
 FITZGERALD. You hesitate. About what? 
 
 VAN PERSON. I told her some stories; I told her that Vassar 
 girl story. She pretended to be so obtuse as not to see it. But I 
 read her. She's a smart woman. She gave me an evasive answer. 
 I hung on, and finally she said "Yes." I would like to have had 
 our interview extended, but the first thing I knew the waiter pre- 
 sented cards, and then in walked a man and woman. I did not like 
 the looks of either. The man seemed to know Miss Bloodgood pretty 
 well. He is the same man I met on the train the day I met Miss 
 Bloodgood. Then he smelled vilely of whiskey, poor cigars and raw 
 onions. But to-day he M^as as sweet as a rose, dressed in the finest 
 style; some perfume about him, too. I told some stories. He pre- 
 tended not to like stories. 
 
 FITZGERALD. You haven't told me his name, but you describe 
 General Van Poole so well that I know it must be he. By the way, I 
 don't believe that he hasany right to the " Van." " Van" is a Dutch 
 prefix to nobility. I think he is at least a cousin to Bill Poole, the 
 pugilist. He looks like him. So you met him at Miss Bloodgood's? 
 I've met him at the Columbus Club and have heard him tell stories 
 there, but such stories neither you nor I would tell, even in a fore- 
 castle. They are right down low, showing low associations. 
 
 Jedediah Moonlight enters. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Jed, glad to see you. Fitz's office is a fine meet- 
 ing room. What's up now? 
 
 JEDEDIAH MOONLIGHT. Pve got a new invention. Those in- 
 ventions come; I work them up; then don't know what to do with 
 them. Awhile ago I worked up a flying machine. Knowing from 
 past experience that I could not do anything with it, I wrote it up; 
 sent it to a small country paper. After it was published I had 200 
 galley proof copies, and distributed them over the county. Last year 
 I saw in the pictorial papers a number of designs essentially like 
 mine, but none of them has as yet adopted my balloon. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Is a baNoon essential ? Birds fly without balloons. 
 
 JEDEDIAH MOONLIGHT. Not essential, unless we say essential 
 for safety. My balloon is a turtle-shell shape, with the underside 
 
9 
 
 slightly concave, so in descending it will hold the weight better — . 
 come down easier. Then I have a rocker machine. A huge, heavy 
 rocker; in the center a long pole extending upwards, whereby I get 
 a good leverage. It takes very little power to work that pole. To 
 tiie rocker is attached a shaft; on the shaft is a pulley; from this, by 
 a belt, to such small machines as you wish to run. Then this rocker 
 is almost perpetual motion. I have some quicksilver attached. As 
 the rocker goes down, or is just down, it touches a spring, and that 
 sends the quicksilver over the line down to the lowest point. That 
 side of the rocker goes down, when the same thing is repeated. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Why don't you get a patent? 
 
 JEDEDIAH MOONLIGHT. I ' ve tried. The last my attorney pro- 
 nounced a good thing, and he is a judge, even an expert, in such 
 things. They kept it a month; then there was some hitch; they 
 wanted to look further; then it was old. It cost me $35; so much 
 thrown away. A few years after that I read in the paper that some 
 John Smith had got the same thing patented, and one of the papers 
 remarked that it was a wonder that it had not been patented before. 
 A friend of mine got up another invention, and it hung in the Patent 
 Office for some time; then was rejected. To his surprise a month or 
 two later he received a letter from a man in Philadelphia offering 
 $10,000 for his rejected patent, or what would have been a patent 
 had he secured it. On investigating the matter he found that the 
 man who made the offer was the very one who rejected it. 
 
 VAN PERSON. How's that? 
 
 JEDEDIAH MOONLIGHT. The man was then an examiner in 
 the Patent Office. He saw that there was value in the invention, so 
 rejected it. He resigned his position, went to Philadelphia, and very 
 soon sent his offer to my friend. There's lots of sharks hanging 
 about that office. As soon as they discover that a man has an inven- 
 tion they lay for him; that is, if he's some poor fellow. They don't 
 dare to fool with the large men like Edison. I am now working on 
 an ocean steamer, but I do not even dare to put my ideas on a bit 
 of paper in my own house. I tried that once, and the first thing I 
 knew it was published, and even complimented by the editor. Then 
 I have a novel propelling power. I wrote it up under the head of 
 " Little Jakey's Invention," and sent it to the Scientific American. 
 It was not many days before they returned the manuscript. 
 
 VAN PERSON. What was it? 
 
 JEDEDIAH MOONLIGHT. I didn't claim any great thing on it. It 
 was more of a joke, and so I did not think hard of getting my manu- 
 script back. I proposed to have two keels on a boat; between them 
 have one long propeller; from the shaft, at more or less close intervals, 
 have rods leading to a shaft above. This to have pulleys, whereby 
 electricity shall be generated that shall drive the boat. 
 
 VAN PERSON. How are you going to start your boat? 
 
10 
 
 JEDEDIAH MOONLIGHT. Either by sail or a tug. But as soon 
 as the boat gets under way she generates her own power; and more, 
 there is an aiTangement for the storage of power to be used when you 
 want to start again. The faster the boat goes, the more the power. 
 
 Enters Prof. Hox. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Still another! What have you got? You gen- 
 erally have something. Jed has told us what he has. 
 
 JEDEDIAH MOONLIGHT. Haven't half told; don't propose to; 
 yet a while at least. 
 
 Prof. HOX. It is surprising what a cheap reputation these astrono- 
 mers get on their nonsensical sayings. Let a man only bean astron- 
 omer, he can say anything; and the great geologists are about the 
 same. A year or two ago, in the Anthropological Society, they dis- 
 cussed the age of the world. It was anywhere from 25,000 years to 
 100,000, and some even go into the millions. In a million or two of 
 years there will be no Niagara Falls; there will be mere rapids. 
 What's all this amount to? Who cares whether the world is 6,000 or 
 6,000,000 years old? The men who write and talk this nonsense, so 
 far as I know, have never raised their voice or their finger to advance 
 the world. They are like the ancient philosophers. Read the 
 Vedas; read Hammuribi of Babylon; read the philosophy of Egypt, 
 Persia, and even Greece and Rome; then come down to the religious 
 philosophy and history of the medieval ages. Yet none of the au- 
 thors of these works did anything for humanity. It was not until 
 printing came that humanity began to escape from these contemp- 
 tible philosophers. They only wanted two classes, though in India 
 they had four. Practically three of them were one, just like the rest; 
 the great majority were mere serfs, like they have in Russia to-day. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Isn't there some exception to your broad state- 
 ment ? 
 
 Prof. HOX. Yes; and I am glad that you called my attention to it. 
 There were the Hebrews — Israelites, later Jews. No wonder these 
 people were called the chosen people. First their priests and wise 
 men said as fine things as the rest. But more important than all 
 was that they put their fine philosophy into practice. In those other 
 circles it was, as I have said, the few holding high stations, and very 
 wise; the many ignorant, and kept so century after century. In Israel 
 it was different. Here the masses were elevated, and oftentimes the 
 priests did not know any more than the laymen; and all were strug- 
 gling to advance the world. Prof. Hilprecht goes to Babylon; sent 
 by Kaiser William. He makes the wonderful ( ! ) discovery that the 
 Babylonians had everything that the Jews claim, even to the Sabbath; 
 that the Jews simply took all they claim from Babylon. Men call 
 themselves wise, and talk such nonsense ! Where did we get the 
 Sabbath ? Whence came it ? Not through any other nation but 
 
11 
 
 Israel. Then to make the position of these wise (!) men more 
 ridiculous these ancient nations that surrounded Israel did all in 
 their power to exterminate her. Where wonld all be that we now 
 get through this source — preserved in that wonderful book, the 
 Bible — but for Israel? Yet such men as Ingersoll condemn the 
 Bible. They never realize for what that book stands, what it repre- 
 sents. We certainly never should have had the Sabbath but for the 
 Bible. If Babylon had it she did not bequeath it to us. She did 
 all in her power, as did the rest, to exterminate the people who wor- 
 shiped the one God, and did all in their power to elevate humanity. 
 The humanity of the old Hebrew prophets lives to-day, and shall 
 continue to live. Every day it blesses the world. 
 
 VAN PERSON. How about India? We do not read of any per- 
 secutions by her. 
 
 Pkof. HOX. No, she and China were communities by themselves. 
 Both of them were too philosophical to be great conquerors like 
 Egypt, Assyria, Babylon, the Medes and Persians, Greece and Rome. 
 But these nations kept humanity down. To-day they are dominated 
 over by the Western powers. Serves them right ! But to come back 
 to our starting point. If you wish to read the finest description of 
 the world, creation, etc,, read the CIV Psalm. For my part, I care 
 not how learned a man is if he is with these ancient nations referred 
 to. I care not for their philosophy. I admit that it is fine. If you 
 are in a chariot, strike not at the man on foot. Human ? Yes. 
 But the man who said this never lifted a finger to educate the masses 
 and to cause them to advance to the higher plane. 
 
 VAN PERSON. I must go. I want to reach home to-night. I am 
 glad to have met you gentlemen. We haven't had any time for 
 stories. We'll attend to that next time I come to town, and I expect 
 to come often now. Fitz, collect all you can; get some from Gen. 
 Van Poole. 
 
 FITZGERALD. Van Poole go to grass ! He doesn't know any- 
 thing. You ought to see him at the club; he thinks himself so 
 smart. When he thinks no one sees him he grabs all the cigars — 
 fine ones, too, cost a quarter apiece. They tell me he in very atten- 
 tive to Miss Bloodgood. Just think of the audacity of such a man 
 trying to catch such a refined and intelligent woman as Miss Blood- 
 good ! 
 
 VAN PERSON. I must be off. Good bye. 
 
 FITZGERALD. Van Person is a fine man, and, like the superior 
 man he is, there's nothing airy about him. He is courteous to all, 
 but not so to the tramp who wants money, saying he wants some- 
 thing to eat, but really for strong drink. He passes such by without 
 ceremony. Next month Van Person is to be married. 
 
 JEDEDIAH MOONLIGHT. To whom? 
 
 FITZGERALD. To Miss Bloodgood. 
 
12 
 
 JEDEDIAH MOONLIGHT. I didn't know that he was acquainted 
 with her. 
 
 FITZGERALD. They have not known each other long; less than 
 six months, I think; but that is long enough for two such persons to 
 know each other. 
 
 JEDEDIAH MOONLIGHT. I, too, must go. When Ansel gets 
 married we nuist present him with an old colonial cradle. 
 [Goes.] 
 
 Prof. HOX. While it is news to me that Van Person and Miss 
 Bioodgood are to wed, I am not surprised. He is a fine man. Van 
 Poole's ambition is ridiculous. I, too, must go. 
 
 FITZGERALD (alone). What a queer lot comes here ! Yet I am 
 always glad to have them look in on me. I am glad that Van Poole 
 never learned the way here. Hold on a mi nute ! Where are__you 
 going to-morrow to church? tO Irn^ / • Utt^-o 
 
 VAN PERSON. To my church, where I generally go— to "Joe 
 Bower's" church. 
 FITZGERALD. Where's that? 
 
 VAN PERSON. I can give you the best idea of it by reciting some 
 short poems: 
 
 Nature's Temple — By Graham. 
 It is not only in the sacred fane 
 That homage should be paid to the Most High; 
 There's a temple, one not made with hands — 
 The vaulted firmament; far in the woods, 
 Almost beyond the sound of city chime, 
 A.t intervals heard through the breezeless air, 
 Where not the limberest leaf is seen to move. 
 Save where the linnet lights upon the spray; 
 Where not a floweret bends its little stalk, 
 Save where the bee alights upon the bloom — 
 There, rapt in gratitude, in joy and love, 
 The man of God will pass the Sabbath noon; 
 Silence his praise, his disembodied thoughts, 
 Loosed from the load of words, will high ascend 
 Beyond the empyrean. 
 This for morning service. 
 
 FITZGERALD. A sort of Quaker meeting. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Yes; Joe was a Quaker. Then there is the vesper 
 service : 
 
 A cloud lay cradled near the setting sun, 
 A gleam of crimson tinged its braided snow; 
 Long had I watched the glory inoving on 
 O'er the still radiance of the lake below; 
 Tranquil its spirit seemed and floated slow; 
 
13 
 
 E'en in its very motion there was rest, 
 AVhile every breath of eve that chanced to blow 
 Wafted the traveler to the beauteous West — 
 Emblem, methought, of the departed soul. 
 To whose white robes the gleam of bliss is given. 
 And by the breath of mercy made to roll 
 Right onward to the golden gates of heaven, 
 Where to the eye of faith it peaceful lies. 
 And tells to man his glorious destinies. 
 
 Then, for the night service, the following is suggestive: 
 The twilight hours like birds flew by. 
 As lightly and as free; 
 Ten thousand stars were in the sky, 
 Ten thousand in the sea, 
 For every wave with dimpled cheek. 
 As it leaped upon the air, 
 Had caught a star in its embrace. 
 And held it trembling th^re. 
 
 FITZGERALD. Do you teach the immortality of the soul in your 
 church? 
 
 VAN PERSON. Yes, and I wrote out seven statements that Joe 
 and I agreed upon: 
 
 1. There is a hereafter or there is not. 
 
 2. If not, there ought to be. 
 
 3. This life; without a more complete one to follow it, would be a 
 miserable failure. 
 
 4. The power which has made what we see here ought to be, and 
 we believe is, able to make something more complete. 
 
 5. If there be a future existence for the beings of this life, it would 
 seem that the higher existence here the higher the existence here- 
 after, and what is wanting and incomplete here shall be made good 
 in the life which follows. 
 
 6. That the life to come is a life of progression and advancement 
 beyond this. 
 
 7. That not only men will advance, but all created things must and 
 will advance to higher and higher grades. 
 
 Some may object to this last statement, but it is in harmony with 
 the spirit of the Psalms; indeed, they all are in harmony with that 
 wonderful book. It says He, i. e., God, " shall save both man and 
 beast," and this is good authority. 
 
 FITZGERALD. I don't see as any one can find fault with what 
 you have said. It is in harmony with Longfellow's " Sunrise on the 
 Hills," last verse: 
 
 If thou art worn and hard beset, 
 With sorrows that thou wouldst forget. 
 
14 
 
 If thou wouldest read a lesson that will keep 
 Thy heart from fainting, and thy soul from sleep, 
 Go to the woods and hill ! No tears 
 Dim the sweet look that nature wears. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Yes, Joe will indorse that. But I must go. 
 Good bye ? Don't forget the wedding. 
 
 VOICE. A wedding is near, 
 
 When, for a season, two souls to each other shall be very 
 
 dear. 
 Then a cloud shall arise 
 Which shall the world surprise. 
 Mephistopheles shall come, 
 And all sorts of infamy shall have its run. 
 He shall be very coy, 
 But he shall bring no joy. 
 Why should this be? 
 In it can the w'orld no wisdom see? 
 But his reign shall be short, 
 And fall shall he, when the mischief is wrought. 
 
 The wedding; interior of a church; grand music. The bride and 
 groom enter, she on his right; they take each other by the hand and 
 go swinging along, as though they were all alone. Both are dressed 
 in white. The bride, in addition, has a wide golden ribbon about 
 her waist, with long purple ribbons hanging down behind; only one 
 diamond pin at the throat. The groom with a simple Grand Army 
 button on the lapel of his coat. They pass under an arch of white 
 ribbons, held up by twelve young ladies. After the ceremony they 
 pass out. Now the bride is on the left of the groom, arm in arm. 
 
 Mephistopheles, in the dress of General Van Poole, is among the 
 company. He to himself swears vengeance; Miss Penelope Sullvan 
 is by his side. " Thou shall yet be mine," he says to himself. 
 
 SCjENE: At the JBloodgood mansion. The bride and groom- enter; 
 friends follow. All congratulate the newly married pair. 
 
 ELIZA. Agnes, that was the most lovely wedding I ever saw. If 
 for no other reason than to be a party in so beautiful a ceremony, I'd 
 consent to be married. 
 
 Gen. VAN POOLE. Why don't you? 
 
 ELIZA. I'm too old now. Then I want ever to be near Agnes. 
 I could not bear the thought of being away from her. 
 
 Miss SULLVAN. Mrs. Van Person, it was a most beautiful wed- 
 ding. If I am ever married I would like to have one like it. 
 
 FITZGERALD. Them's my sentiments. But I've been there 
 once, but I don't care to go again, nor does Lizzie. But it was beauti- 
 
15 
 
 ful, and long may we enjo}' the friendship of these two persons who 
 have now become man and wife. May nothing come in to mar their 
 happiness. 
 
 VOICE. It will; it is destiny; and the agent, Mephistoplieles, is 
 here pi-esent, and will use the woman that is with him to rend 
 these cords asunder. He shall triumph. But woe shall follow him 
 to the end, and his triumph shall be of short duration. Twelve 
 moons shall shine. The thirteenth cometh, and he shall depart in 
 disgrace. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Good friends, on behalf of this dear woman, I 
 thank you for your presence on this occasion. 
 
 SCENE: The Van Person Mansion. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Agnes, here is a letter from that woman. Miss 
 Sullvan. Wonder what she means by writing to me thus? She 
 implies that she and I were out together Friday night; that we went 
 to the Canterbury; then had a supper together at the loud Welling- 
 ton Cafe, all of which is a monstrous lie. I was at the Columbus 
 Club; met there Gen. Van Poole, Mr. Fitzgerald, and others. 
 
 AGNES. I would not mind her. She is evidently a queer person. 
 So don't let it worry you. 
 
 VAN PERSON. In one sense it don't, but I've seen so much of 
 the world, been to theatres, seen plots that were full of infamy. 
 There is some infamous power behind her. She, I think, is a fair 
 sort of woman. 
 
 AGNES. Who do you think is the power behind her? 
 
 VAN PERSON. I don't know; but I'd bet my bottom dollar, as 
 they used to say, that there is a man behind her. He wants to sup- 
 plant me and win you. 
 
 AGNES. don't get nervous over this ! No man shall ever come 
 in between you and me. 
 
 VAN PERSON. I pray not; but still I have fears. 
 
 AGNES. Let's say no more about it. I have no fears. Did I not 
 at the altar swear to love and honor you to the last, "come will what 
 may?" Bear in mind the sentiment engraved on the inside of this 
 Masonic ring: " Virtus junxit, mores non separabit." What virtue has 
 joined together, death shall not separate. So I am, and shall ever 
 be, your dear wife. Ansel, before we go any farther, I want to give 
 you a present, and I do not want any refusal. 
 
 VAN PERSON. There shall be no refusal. I shall be like the 
 politest man in France, who accepted everything and returned 
 thanks. 
 
 AGNES. It is money. Guess how much? 
 
 VAN PERSON. about $10,000. 
 
 AGNES. More. You have not guessed anywhere near. 
 
16 
 
 VAN PERSON. I do not need any money; I have enough of my 
 own for all my needs. 
 
 AGNES. That makes no difference. I am the giver; so take what 
 I give, and give willingly. Multiply your guess by one hundred, and 
 you will have it. 
 
 VAN PERSON. One million dollars ! I shall not know what to 
 do with so much money. 
 
 AGNES. Well, take it, to please me, if for nothing more. It is a 
 love offering. 
 
 VAN PERSON. I accept it. I did not seek your hand for what 
 there was in it. I trust that the name of money shall never come 
 between us. Money is a good thing to have. 
 
 AGNES (smiling). You see people were talking: " She is going to 
 marry a poor man." It shall not be so. You shall be rich. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Agnes, this is unexpected. It is however a most 
 pleasant surprise. I can simply say I thank you. 
 
 VOICE. How frail sometimes is woman ! 
 
 Mephistopheles over lier face a veil does throw. 
 And though all is as white and pure as snow, 
 To her all appears black, 
 He is constantly on her track. 
 
 Eliza enters. 
 
 ELIZA. Come, what keeps you up so late? You ought to have 
 retired long ago. 
 
 AGNES. We got talking, and time has slipped away very fast; it's 
 after eleven. Well, Ansellet's retire. I hope that you will have no 
 unpleasant dreams. 
 
 Same scene. Nine months later. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Here is another letter from that Miss Sullvan, 
 implying that I have written her when I have not. 
 
 AGNES. Did I not see an envelope on your desk addressed to her? 
 
 VAN PERSON. Yes, it is there now, and you can read what I 
 have said. Up to this time I have not written her. In that envelope 
 I return her last letter without comment. That is all. 
 
 AGNES. Why do that? It is far more cutting not to even do that. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Then tlie letter shall not be sent. I wish I knew 
 who was the person back of her ! 
 
 AGNES. My advice is, let the whole thing rest. Don't worry. 
 
 [She goes out.] 
 
 VAN PERSON. It is not over this Sullvan woman that I worry, 
 but it is plain for me to see that of late Agnes has changed. It is evi- 
 dent that she believes that there is something in the persistent action 
 of this woman. 
 
17 
 
 Gen. Van Poole enters, and Agnes returns. 
 
 AGNES. How do you do, General? I hope you are quite well 
 this evening. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. I am in good health, thank yon. You look 
 charming this evening; in fact, I never saw you looking better. Mar- 
 ried life evidently agrees with you. 
 
 AGNES (smiling). General, why did j'ou not bring Miss Sullvan 
 with you ? 
 
 Gen. VAN POOLE. I was intending to, but she was not well; had 
 one of her headaches. 
 
 AGNES. Sorry she could not come; she's such pleasant company, 
 and I know that Ansel would have been happy to have had her call; 
 he seems to enjoy her society so much. She writes him very pleasant 
 letters, and they have quite a correspondence. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. I shall get jealous. Penelope is a fine woman, 
 and I love her much. Mr. Van Person, don't cut me out. 
 
 VAN PERSON. There is no fear of that. I have one woman to 
 love'and that is all I care for. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Yes, you have a dear, sweet woman. If you 
 were not her husband I should be tempted to lay siege to her heart. 
 But as I am an honorable gentleman, I should not for a moment think 
 of such a thing. 
 
 AGNES (smiling). General, you flatter— just a little bit. But 
 we all know that you are a gentleman. 
 
 VAN PERSON. [Aside: Sir, you are the knave who is pushing 
 this Sullvan woman on! I've caught you. Then you are having an 
 effect upon Agnes. Now when I attempt to caress her she repulses, 
 me. To Agnes:] I am not in love with any other woman than you. 
 While I admit that Miss Sullvan is a very nice sort of woman, I can- 
 not admit what has been implied. As I feel tired from my long 
 tramp to-day I'll retire. Good night. General. 
 
 [Goes out, and is heard singing to himself :] 
 Good night, good night. 
 Now to all a kind good night. 
 Lo the moon from heaven is beaming, 
 O'er the silvery waters stealing, 
 'Tis the hour of calm delight. 
 Good night, good night, good night. 
 
 [Voice the while dying away.] 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Agnes, Mr. Van Person seems to take the 
 world easy. He has a happy disposition. 
 
 AGNES. On the surface, but I notice that when he is most troubled 
 he sings most. While I cannot read his thoughts, I know the tenor 
 of them. When he is down or feels low he sings some mournful strain, 
 like the strains from "Come ye Disconsolate," or something like 
 
18 
 
 that, or else "II Trovatore" or "Norma." When he feels happy he 
 sings or whistles some such tune as "The Sword of Bunker Hill" or 
 "The Breaking Waves Dashed High." 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Agnes, you are a keen observer. What a queer 
 thing is his infatuation for my cousin Penelope ! I think he likes the 
 sound of her name. 
 
 AGNES. Well, it is a sweet name, and it was a sweet woman who, 
 in old Grecian times, bore it. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Yes, it is sweet, but I do not think that it is 
 as sweet a name as Agnes, which means chaste, pure. It is a fine thing 
 to have the name and the person to so agree. It is a shame what 
 an influence Penelope has over him ! They were to the theatre last 
 Tuesday night. I suppose you thought that he was at the lodge. 
 The lodge is a very deceptive place to go. Many a man says to his 
 wife, " Dear, I am going to the lodge, and shall not be home till late. 
 Some important work; don't sit up for me." Then instead of going 
 to the lodge, he goes off to some entertainment like the Canterbury, 
 with some Penelope; after awhile they go to that low saloon kept by 
 Spatter and have wine, etc. 
 
 AGNES. Yes, I have noticed that. Last Tuesday night he told 
 me that he was going to tlie lodge, etc. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. [Aside: All is working well. In six months, 
 or less, there will be a divorce, and very soon thereafter a wedding. 
 To Agnes:] Yes, Agnes, man as a rule is weak. He don't mean to be 
 false to his vows, but some Penelope appears upon the scene and he 
 goes wrong. 
 
 AGNES. It is too true. To think of all the fine words that are 
 said, the vows that are made. It is enough to make one disgusted 
 with the world ! Where shall we find the really true man, true to his 
 vows? 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. There are some— men like Sidney and Hale, 
 but they are few. 
 
 AGNES. General, do you think that a woman is ever prejudiced 
 in getting a divoi'ce? ;VM»<r~ 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Certainl3^ Take your case for example. Sup- 
 pose you should have that proof that Van Person is false to you. T 
 think that you would be justified in freeing yourself from him. You 
 are a, very rich woman and it's a pity that you could not have got a 
 man who would be true to you. I sometimes feel that your money 
 was more of a temptation than affection for the woman. 
 
 AGNES. Sad it is to be deceived. It is breaking me all up. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Perhaps you may, later on, when the wound 
 is healed, find some true man — one who loves j'ou for yourself alone. 
 
 AGNES. I distrust them all. Present company, they say, is always 
 excepted. 
 
 Gen, van POOLE. I trust so, Agnes. Before you married Van 
 
19 
 
 Person I wanted you. It almost broke my heart when another 
 sHpped in between us. I would not do anything to separate you from 
 Van Person; I am too much of a gentleman. But if things go on the 
 way they are now going, it would not be long before you resume your 
 old name. 
 
 AGNES. I fear the worst. I have been thinking of it for some 
 time. What lawyer would you suggest? 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Mr. Fitzgerald is the finest lawyer I know. I 
 should go to him. 
 
 AGNES. I am so glad you called; I feel relieved. I shall take 
 your advice; call often. By your kindness and sympathy you have 
 won my heart; here is my hand. 
 
 [He takes it; kisses it; then glances up to her eyes with much 
 feeling.] 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Agnes, you have healed the wound. I would 
 that you would allow me to kiss you. 
 
 AGNES. You may, General. I need your sympathy. 
 
 Gen. VAN POOLE. Agnes, I must go. One more kiss ! 
 
 AGNES. Call often, won't you? 
 
 Gen. VAN POOLE. Certainly. [Aside: How well it works! I 
 all the while felt I'd get there.] Good night. I won't sing a song. 
 
 SCENE: Next, morning; same jolace. 
 
 AGNES. Mr. Van Person, the hour has come and we must part. 
 I cannot stand this deception any longer. I shall see a lawyer and 
 have him institute a divorce. 
 
 VAN PERSON. AVell, Agnes, you remember my fears. You made 
 very light of them. I all the while felt that there was a man back 
 of Miss Sullvan. 
 
 AGNES. Why don't you call her Penelope? 
 
 VAN PERSON. I never took that freedom with her. I now know 
 the man that is behind all this. It is Gen. Van Poole. 
 
 AGNES. So you were listening to our talk last night? You pre- 
 tended to be tired, so went to bed and made a jack of yourself by 
 singing the good night song. 
 
 VAN PERSON. You surprise me. I never played eavesdropper 
 in my life, though most men in my place last night would have done 
 so. But I had faith in you; I trusted you. I never feared to leave 
 you alone in tlie company of any man, even with one of all the re- 
 puted charms of Mephistoplieles. 
 
 AGNES (sharply). Do you mean to imply that an honorable man 
 like Gen. Van Poole is a Mephistopheles, a man who was a general, 
 while you were never anything but a private. As a general ranks a 
 private so Gen. Van Poole ranks the Private Van Person. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Agnes, you surprise me still more. But I shall 
 have no words with you. You believe me false. I am true ! Me- 
 
20 
 
 phistopheles may rule for a night, but my joy cometh in the morn- 
 ing. So we must part, and I must leave you and our dear little 
 Elsie. 
 
 AGNES. If you had had any respect for yourself this would not 
 have come to pass. I regret it exceedingly, but I hope that after 
 awhile I shall get a true man, the man who has been my friend and 
 is now my dear friend and wise counsellor. 
 
 VAN PERSON. Agnes, that means that the man Van Poole shall 
 come in and take my place. I have only pity for you. 
 
 AGNES. Don't waste any pity on me; keep it all for " yourself . 
 Now go. Do you hear me? Go ! 
 
 VAN PERSON. Allow me to linger a few minutes and caress 
 Elsie. Awhile ago you said: "The hour has come when we must 
 part." 
 
 AGNES. I did. 
 
 VAN PERSON (singing): 
 
 The hour has come, and we must part, 
 
 Adieu, adieu ! 
 The hour has come, and we must part, 
 0, sister, hold me in thy heart, 
 
 Adieu, adieu, adieu ! 
 
 Though far on distant oceans driven. 
 
 Adieu, adieu ! 
 Though far on distant oceans driven. 
 Present me in thy prayers to heaven. 
 
 Adieu, adieu, adieu ! 
 
 And if on earth we meet no more, 
 
 Adieu, adieu ! 
 And if on earth we meet no more. 
 Then meet me when life's voyage is o'er. 
 
 Adieu, adieu, adieu! 
 
 May peace and hope with thee remain. 
 
 Adieu, adieu! 
 May peace and hope with thee remain. 
 Till we unchanged do meet again. 
 
 Adieu, adieu, adieu! 
 
 Adieu, adieu, adieu! 
 
 AGNES. I wish you'd go ! 
 
 VAN PERSON. Spare me a moment longer. Though on this 
 brink of fate, I must linger — 
 
 I fain would spend life's weary hours with thee, my friend. 
 
 But not in affection's fairy bowers are we to spend 
 
 Our precious lives, these heaven-born powers that soon must end. 
 
21 
 
 Along thy pathway may sweet flowers their fragrance lend, 
 
 And, 0, when the gloomy tempest lowers. 
 
 On God depend. 
 
 He'll help thee in thy darkest hours and be thy friend ! 
 
 AGNES. As you like to sing so well, let me, too, sing a verse: 
 
 Go, vile deceit, you no more shall live with me. 
 
 Go, vile deceit, you and I shall never more agree; 
 
 For I shall faithful pray to be, in all I do or say, . 
 
 And always speak and act the honest truth. 
 
 Whether at work or play. 
 
 Vile deceit with me shall never stay, 
 
 Vile deceit can never be happy and gay. 
 
 Now go ! [Advances towards her, as though he would embrace 
 and kiss, but she repels him with her hands and tongue.] Go ! 
 Go ! Go ! 
 
 [Van Person goes out, singing " Katy Darling." Voice dying 
 away as he goes] : 
 
 Did they tell you that I was false, 
 
 Katy darling ? 
 That my love for thee had e'er grown cold — 
 They know not the love of Erin's son — 
 When a love like to thine Katy, darling. 
 Is the goal to which the race that he runs. 
 Will you never more hear me, 
 
 Katy darling ? 
 The loved birds are singing from each tree? 
 And the wild flowers greet me, Katy darling. 
 [Song dies away.] 
 
 Gen. Van Poole enters. 
 
 AGNES. I am so glad to see you. General, for I need sympathy 
 in this hour of distress. I suppose you heard that man's voice, 
 singing "Katy Darling," as though it was appropriate. Then; first 
 he sang his adieu song, recited a poem. I told him to go, and I 
 wished for you, or some strong man, to put him out. I thought of 
 calling John. He just was heavy on my patience. I bore with him 
 though. I really pitied him; he looked so forlorn. But I am glad 
 that it is over. I shall see Mr. Fitzgerald to-morrow. Tell Miss 
 Sullvan to call. We'll take a ride; I need a little diversion. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. It is a most beautiful day. Don't forget the 
 engagement. Give me the size of your ring. I want to get a wed- 
 ding ring for you. It shall be plain — like the man who gives it. 
 
 AGNES. All right. General. Here is the size. [Handing him 
 her ring, the one Ansel had given her.] 
 
22 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Agnes, this is a common looking ring. 
 
 AGNES. A common man gave it to me. To think that I should 
 have been so foolish as to marry a man on so slight an acquaintance — 
 a mere drummer ! Why could not I have met you first? 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. It's all past now, Agnes, and we must make 
 the best of it. You can give this ring to some of your men servants. 
 You shall have a fine one. How would a diamond do in it, or a 
 ruby? 
 
 AGNES. I should like a ruby. There is a warmth about it. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. You shall have it. Now appoint the happy 
 wedding day; say some time next month. 
 
 AGNES. I should hardly want to be married before the divorce 
 is granted; it will start people talking. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Bother the people ! What is our happiness 
 to them ? 
 
 AGNES. Let it be as you like; say the 16th of next month. How 
 will that suit you ? 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Very well; I'll be ready. But we don't want 
 any foolish Van Person affair. What a ridiculous wedding it was ! 
 You ought to have heard the remarks and the sarcasm I heard. 
 
 AGNES. Yes, as I see it now it was foolish; but I am wiser now. 
 Come to see me every evening; we'll play checkers, dominoes and 
 cards together. Come alone; you know the old saying, "Two's a 
 company, three's a crowd." 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Yes, lovers like to be alone. By the way, 
 Agnes, how about a dowery? I am poor. For so rich a woman as 
 you to marry a poor man will start them to talking. 
 
 AGNES. I am glad that you mentioned it. How much would you 
 like? 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. a million will answer me. Then you will 
 not marry a poor man. 
 
 AGNES. All right; you shall have it, with my best wishes and 
 sweetest love. When you call to-morrow I shall have it. I'll go 
 right off to Mr. Fitzgerald's office and get him to make the transfer. 
 I am so glad that you spoke about it. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Good bye, Agnes, until this evening, when I 
 shall call again, and we'll have some games and music. Good bye. 
 
 [He goes, and Eliza enters.] 
 
 ELIZA. Agnes, is there anything I can do for you? 
 
 AGNES. You can send that portrait of Mr. Van Person off — 
 somewhere, I don't care where. 
 
 ELIZA. I would suggest that you send it to Mr. Fitzgerald; he's 
 an old friend of Ansel's. 
 
 AGNES. Eliza, don't ever let me hear you speak again of Mr. 
 Van Person as Ansel. To think that I should have married a man 
 so weak! I am ashamed of myself. 
 
 [Goes out.] 
 
23 
 
 ELIZA. Too bad ! Too bad ! To turn so fine a man out of doors, 
 and accept such a knave ! It is easy for me to see who was the power 
 behind Miss Sullvan. Ansel never had any more to do with that 
 woman than I. Well, I shall pick up what things of his I can, and 
 stow them away in the attic. Perhaps some fine day, or in the dark 
 hours of the night, she may come to herself and realize the enormity 
 of this act. I despise this newcomer. But for Agnes's sake I'd not 
 even be civil to him. He's a knave! How sweetly he always says 
 Agnes! Bah! I suppose he'll be here tonight and stay till near 
 midnight. There will be wine, beer, and perhaps champagne, and 
 this house turned into a saloon. It's enough to make the angels weep. 
 Dear little Elsie will miss him — miss his rocking her to sleep, his 
 lullabys. What a lot of songs he knows! I must be about my work. 
 
 [Eliza sings an old love song] : 
 
 Thoughts, thoughts, tender and true love, 
 Say, say, wilt thou be mine? 
 Thou knowest that I adore thee; 
 Wilt thou then be mine? 
 
 Eepeats: 
 
 La, la, la, la, la, la. 
 La, la, la, la, la, la, 
 La, la, la, la, la, la. 
 
 If Arthur had only loved me, as I loved him, how happy we might 
 have been ! But he would not. He was attracted by a butterfly, 
 married her, and she brought him down to her own level. I saw 
 him a few times after they were married, a year or two, and then I 
 woxild not have married him any more than I would now marry Van 
 Poole. For some months I mourned over it, but it's all over now; 
 in fact, I soon got over it. It was my only love affair. Other thoughts 
 that are tender and true now come, and I am happy. But I wish 
 that I could i-emember all of that song. I only heard it sung; never 
 saw it in print. But I know another: 
 
 Remember me not as a lover. 
 
 Whose hopes have been crossed, 
 
 Whose bosom may never recover 
 
 The light it has lost. 
 
 As a young bride remembers her mother. 
 
 Whom she loves but never may see. 
 
 As a sister remembers a brother. 
 
 So dearest remember me. 
 
 These songs of our adolescent days may be foolish, but there is no 
 harm in them. We have burned holy fires at the altar of our hearts, 
 we have passed under the mistletoe, and even under the rod; but it 
 availeth not. 
 
24 
 
 [Breaks out in another song] : 
 
 Joys that we' ve tasted, 
 
 May sometimes return, 
 But the torch when once wasted, 
 
 how can it burn? 
 
 These were tlie kind of love songs they used to sing in my day, and 
 I think about as fine as anything they sing now. 
 
 SCENE: The same. Evening. Gen. Van Poole and Mrs. Van 
 Person. 
 AGNES. For the first thing on the program, suppose we have 
 some music. 
 
 [They play and sing]: 
 
 The Pearl for Me. 
 The world their fancied pearl may crave, 
 
 'Tis not the pearl for me, 
 'Twill dim its lustre in the wave, 
 
 'Twill moulten in the sea. 
 But there's a pearl of price untold, 
 
 Which never can be bought with gold; 
 The sinking world 'twill save, 
 Oh ! that's the pearl for me. 
 Oh ! that's the pearl for me. 
 
 Let pleasure chant her siren song, 
 
 'Tis not the song for me. 
 To weeping it will turn ere long, 
 
 [At the singing of this line Agnes shuddered.] 
 For this is heaven's decree. 
 But there's a song the ransom'd sing, 
 
 To Jehovah their exalted king, 
 With joyful heart and tongue. 
 Oh ! that's the song for me. 
 Oh ! that's the song for me. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Agnes, I saw you shudder just now. Suppose 
 we have a little wine. I suppose you have some? 
 
 AGNES. Yes, but we seldom use it. Mr. Van Person was a very 
 temperate man. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Was he a Kechabite? 
 
 AGNES. No, but he was temperate. 
 
 [Wine is brought in and they both drink.] 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Agnes, let's have a game of checkers. 
 
 [They play; Agnes beats.] 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. I have better luck with dominoes. 
 
25 
 
 AGNES. Eliza! Eliza! [Eliza comes.] Eliza, bring the dominoes. 
 [They are brought. They play; Agnes beats.] 
 Gen. van POOLE. Wonder what is the matter with my luck? 
 It seems to be turning. 
 
 [VOICE. It shall soon begin to turn, and keep on turning, until 
 it turns you out of this house.] 
 Gen. van POOLE. Agnes, suppose we try cards. 
 [They play. Agnes again wins.] 
 Gen. van POOLE (aside). Confound my luck! 
 [VOICE. So be it !] 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Well, let's have another drink. Then we'll 
 have more music, though my voice don't seem to be in good order 
 to-night. 
 
 [They sing and play] : 
 
 The Pilot, 
 Oh, pilot ! 'tis a fearful night, 
 There's danger on the deep; 
 I'll come and pace the deck with thee, 
 
 I do not dare to sleep. 
 Go down ! the sailor cries, Go down ! 
 
 This is no place for thee; 
 Fear not, but trust in Prov-i-dence, 
 Where'er thou may'st be. 
 
 On such a night the sea engulphed 
 
 My father's form; 
 My only brother's boat went down, 
 
 In just so wild a storm. 
 And such, perhaps, may be my fate, 
 
 But still I say to thee. 
 Fear not, but trust in Prov-i-dence, 
 
 Where'er thou may'st be. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Agnes, let's have another drink of that fine 
 wine. If Mr. Van Person was not a user of liquors, he was certainly 
 a fine judge of them. Another drink ! Then, as a final, we sing some 
 patriotic song. 
 
 Over the Mountain Wave. 
 Over the mountain wave. 
 
 See where they come; 
 Storm cloud and wintry wind, 
 
 Welcome them home; 
 Yet when the sounding gale 
 
 Howls to the sea. 
 There their song peals along, 
 
 Deep toned and free. 
 
26 
 
 Chorus — Pilgrims and wanderers, 
 Hither we come; 
 Where the free dare to be, 
 Tliis is our home ! 
 
 England hath sunny dales, 
 
 Dearly they bloom; 
 Scotia hath heather hills, 
 
 Sweet their perfume; 
 Yet through the wilderness 
 
 Cheerful we stray, 
 Native land, native land. 
 
 Home far away ! 
 Chorus — Pilgrims and wanderers, etc. 
 
 Dim greAV the forest path, 
 
 Onward they trod; 
 Firm beat their noble hearts, 
 
 Trusting in God ! 
 Gray men and blooming maids. 
 
 High rose their song, 
 Hear it sweep. 
 Clear and deep, 
 
 Ever along. 
 Chorus — Pilgrims and wanderers, etc. 
 
 Not theirs the glory wreath, 
 
 Torn by the blast; 
 Heavenward their holy steps, 
 
 Heavenward they pass ! 
 Green be their mossy graves ! 
 
 Ours be their fame. 
 While their song peals along, 
 
 Ever the same ! 
 Chorus — Pilgrims and wanderers, etc. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Agnes, that's fine. I wish my voice was in 
 better order to-night. Isn't it getting late? We had better stop, and 
 I'll go home. My old Aunt Mary used to say, " It's time all honest 
 folks were at home and rogues on their journey." 
 
 [Agnes tries to get up; it is difficult.] 
 
 AGNES. Gen-e-ral — I' ve — I' ve — I' ve — had — had — a — a — splendid 
 time! Never had such a time in my life! It's glorious ! Glad you 
 came. Come again — and again ! [The General is going.] Come 
 again. General. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE (aside). She's drunk! 
 
 [Eliza enters and hears the rest of Agnes' s remarks. She says to 
 herself: A splendid time ! A bacchanalian time ! No such rowdyism 
 
27 
 
 here when our dear Ansel was master of the house. Wliat has come 
 over the spirit of this sweet woman?] 
 
 AGNES. Eliza, I wish you— d help me u— p. I am not used to 
 drinking wine, and T suppose it's affected me a little. But I've had 
 a glorious time ! The General is such a good companion. Just think 
 of the months I wasted with that other man ! But the good time has 
 come, if it were long on the way. Did you send the picture off? 
 
 ELIZA. Yes; it is gone. 
 
 AGNES. Never to come back. 
 
 [Eliza helps Agnes out.] 
 
 [Servant comes in to clean up.] 
 
 MAY (servant). What a sight! It don't seem at all like the 
 Bloodgood mansion of old. Suppose Agnes' s parents— good old Quaker 
 stock— suppose they could look in here now and hear the story that 
 I could tell them ! It makes one shudder to think of it. Then to 
 think that this must be repeated every night, for a month at least! 
 What shall follow, God only knows. To exchange Mr. Van Person 
 for this low fellow! If I were a man I could just swear; I'd say 
 dam ! O that some good spirit would remove this dark veil from 
 Mrs. Van Person's eyes ! Too bad ! Too bad ! 
 
 [Goes out.] 
 
 SCENE: Fitzgerald's office. Mrs. Van Person enters. 
 
 AGNES. Good morning, Mr. Fitzgerald. I've come to see you on 
 important business. I want a divorce from that weak husband of 
 mine. 
 
 FITZGERALD. On what ground? 
 
 AGNES. For criminal intimacy with that Miss SuUvan. 
 
 FITZGERALD [Aside: Too bad! Such a man as Ansel to give 
 way to this knave]. As an attornejr, I am at your service. 
 
 AGNES. Well, progress quickly, I want my case put through as 
 soon as possible. So you have that portrait of Mr. Van Person? 
 
 FITZGERALD. Yes, Miss Eliza sent it here, so I hung it up 
 there. 
 
 AGNES. I am glad it's out of my sight. And when I come in here 
 I wish you'd hang something over it, or turn it to the wall. Who 
 would have thought that Mr. Van Person would have been so weak ! 
 
 FITZGERALD [Aside: It is you that is weak]. Mrs. Van Person, 
 I shall take up your case as soon as possible — even start on it to-day. 
 
 AGNES. Here is five hundred dollars for you as a preliminary. 
 Now hurry up the case. 
 
 FITZGERALD. I shall do as you say, Mrs. Van Person. 
 
 AGNES. Don't call me by that hateful name again ! I hate it; 
 and am sorry that I ever assumed it. 
 
 FITZGERALD. Will you take back the name of Blooodgood? 
 
 AGNES. Yes, for a few weeks; then I expect to take a more 
 
28 
 
 honored name — a more mature man. Mr. Van Person was simply 
 weak. Had he had more character back of him I should not now be 
 here applying for a divorce. 
 
 FITZGERALD. I have known Ansel for many years, and a more 
 manly man I never knew. 
 
 AGNES. That may all be; you only saw one side of him. But I 
 must go. I have to meet the General and Miss Sullvan by half-past 
 ten. 
 
 [She goes.] 
 
 FITZGERALD. What a sad comment upon human nature ! 
 
 Pkof. Hox and Jed Moonlight enter. 
 
 FITZGERALD. Mrs. Van Person has just left. She wants a di- 
 vorce from Van Person. 
 
 Prof. HOX. On what ground? It would not seem that there 
 could be any ground for so absurd an act. 
 
 JED MOONLIGHT. Well, I be hanged ! Who would have thunk 
 it ! Such a woman as Mrs. Van Person putting in a petition for di- 
 vorce from such a man as Ansel Van Person ! O ye gods, what next ? 
 
 FITZGERALD. The next is the divorce, and that in very short 
 order, to be followed by a wedding between Mrs. Van Person and 
 that knave Van Poole — or better Pool — a pool of badness. 
 
 BOTH (the Professor and Moonlight). That's simply awful I 
 Where's Ansel? 
 
 FITZGERALD. I don't know. He's left the house; ordered out, 
 and to take all his belongings. This morning early his portrait, 
 painted by Lewin, was sent here. Where Ansel is I don't know — 
 but I guess down on that farm, by the sea, where he used to go. 
 
 Prop. HOX. I am indignant. About a month ago this Van Poole 
 went out to Chicago, and I happened to be there, too. My friend 
 took me out to the Medicine Lodge Club. Who should turn up but 
 Van Poole. They got to telling stories, and he lead. 
 
 JED MOONLIGHT. You don't say ! I never heard him tell a 
 good story in my life, and I have known him for a long time. Such 
 stories as I've heard him tell no gentleman would tell, even in a fore- 
 castle. 
 
 Prof. HOX. He told many, but they were all Ansel's. 
 
 FITZGERALD. When I've been to the Club and heard Ansel tell 
 his stories, Van Poole sat there as though he was bored; not a smile. 
 So it seems that he remembered them? 
 
 Prof. HOX. Yes; and they thought him fine. But when we 
 were going home I told my friend all about it. I also told him if 
 they wanted to hear good, pointed stories, invite Ansel, or come 
 here to our Club. My friend said that he'd expose the knave. 
 
 FITZGERALD. I suppose we'll all receive wedding cards. 
 
 Prof. HOX and JED MOONLIGHT. Bosh ! I would not be seen 
 
29 
 
 at such a wedding. So Mrs. Van Person thinks Ansel weak? It is 
 she that is weak, and some day I hope she'll get her eyes open. Too 
 bad ! It must break Ansel all up. 
 
 FITZGERALD. He may be, but he has such a command over 
 himself that one would never dream that he was on such a lee shore, 
 and that, too, in the face of a northeast gale. He's just as ready with 
 a story as ever. He has the faculty to always see the humorous side 
 of life. When he came in here after being dismissed from his home 
 he remarked — if it was not so serious he would have laughed in his 
 wife's face when she ordered him out of the house in such dramatic 
 style — that he'd like to have had a kodak and got a few snapshots 
 at her. I came near forgetting something. Ansel requested me to 
 turn over that money— the million that his wife gave him. He had, 
 with her consent, spent a few thousands of the dividends for a small 
 colored church; otherwise the fortune was intact. He requested me 
 to return it; I have done so. 
 
 Prof. HOX. It's good to have such balance of powers. On the 
 the surface the winter ice may be very smooth. Were you ever 
 upon a country pond of a winter's day, when the pond was all frozen? 
 The sun heats up the waters underneath; the air expands; there 
 being no vent holes, the ice cracks in all directions. By the sounds 
 underneath you'd think that they came from the doomed spirits 
 there confined. But when the glad spring comes the ice is melted; 
 the waters again flow gladly to the sea. So shall «it be with Ansel; 
 and then Mrs. Van Person will be so ashamed of herself that she will 
 keep in doors during the day. the knave ! Such as he ought to be 
 exported to some criminal colony. I learn from Eliza that this simple 
 woman gave this knave a million, and seemed glad that he asked her 
 for it. 
 
 JED MOONLIGHT. Did the tramp have the audacity to ask her 
 for a million? 
 
 Prof. HOX. Yes, and got it, too, and got it so easy that he was 
 overheard to say he wished he'd have asked for two ! 
 
 FITZGERALD. The storm is upon us — rather upon our friend. 
 He will not oppose the divorce nor the marriage. He will resume 
 his active business; perhaps go around the country as a drummer. 
 He's a capital drummer; has such keen perception, and is so good a. 
 judge of human nature — so full of stories; good ones, too. To think 
 that I have such a disreputable case upon my hands — one in which 
 there is no incentive to accomplish something good— but it's all 
 professional. If I did not undertake it others would, so by refusing 
 it I would not defeat such a scheme. But I am convinced that the 
 storm will not be of long duration. Among Ansel's books I find this 
 old song book, printed in 1848. Here is where he gets all those fine 
 old songs in the "Young Minstrel." Suppose we sing "Trust in 
 God" — most applicable for this occasion. Jed,^ you can play the 
 
30 
 
 guitar, and here is the one that Ansel loved so well to play upon. 
 Look over the music. 
 [They sing] : 
 
 When along the stormy ocean, 
 
 Eush the winds in wild commotion, 
 
 And the heavy billows swell, 
 
 Still the eye that knows no slumber, 
 
 Marks the waves and has their number. 
 
 He will guard his children well, 
 
 He will guard his children well. 
 
 Now in dusk and gloom appearing, 
 Lo I the dreadful ice-mount nearing, 
 And destruction rules the night; 
 Still a father's hand is guiding. 
 And amid the danger riding. 
 Hail we safe the morning light, 
 Hail we safe the morning light. 
 
 When red lightnings thick are falling, 
 ' So when cloud to cloud is calling, 
 With a trumpet toned on high; 
 Tho' in fear our hearts may waver, 
 In storms of life still ever. 
 We've a helper strong on high. 
 We've a helper strong on high. 
 
 FITZGERALD. Good ! I wish Ansel were here. 
 
 Prof. HOX. I must go. I agreed to meet my wife down street. 
 
 JED MOONLIGHT. I too must go. I have no arrangement to 
 meet any one, but I must be off. 
 
 FITZGERALD. Good bye. I'm at home and wish you were — 
 both of you. Don't be insulted. This is one of those things that is 
 better than it sounds. 
 
 JED MOONLIGHT. I live down by der ribber. If you ever come 
 that way drop in; not into the river but into my snug little home, 
 and see my dear wife and the little ones. Good bye, Fitz. I wish 
 you could defeat the rascal; but his doom is not far off, I'm thinking. 
 
 FITZGERALD. Good bye to you both. 
 
 VOICE. Mephistopheles' doom is near at hand, 
 Then he can try some other land. 
 He only comes to inspire hate; 
 But our friend Ansel can afford to wait. 
 He and his imp must go. 
 For them there should be no show. 
 
31 
 
 SCENE: The Van Poole mansion. Time late; past eleven. Van Poole 
 enters; drunk; can hardly walk. Takes off his coat ; tlirows itonthe floor. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. I can just whallop any man about this house, 
 or any other house. You huzzy [addressing Agnes], here, you get 
 me my slippers ! 
 
 AGNES. You have them. I laid them on the lounge myself. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Go to grass, you vile huzzy ! Those ain't my 
 slippers. [Throws them across the room.] Now you little impess. 
 just get my slippers ! 
 
 AGNES (picks up the slippers. ) Hear they are, dear. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. Don't dear me, you old huzzy ! If you don't 
 get me my slippers mighty quick I'll come for you ! 
 
 [He tries to take hold of her; she runs around the table; for awhile 
 keeps clear of him; but after a few minutes he catches her. She calls 
 for help. "Help! Help! Eliza! Eliza! Hurry! Hurry!" Eliza 
 rushes in and takes in the situation. Ansel had given Eliza some les- 
 sons on self-defense. Freeing herself, she hits him a vigorous blow 
 below the belt; for a moment he is stunned. "You huzzy! How 
 dare you to thus hit your lord and master ! I'll get even with you ! 
 I'll horsewhip you!" Mary rushes in. Van Poole tries again to 
 catch Agnes, who runs around the table.] 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. You're a good runner, but if I had my own 
 slippers on I'd catch ye! Then I'd take them other slippers and 
 spank you good. 
 
 ELIZA. Not to-night, General. 
 
 Gen. VAN POOLE. Three against one? I'll get even withyou yet! 
 
 ELIZA. Mary, run out quick and get John ! 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. If he comes in here I'll kill him! 
 
 AGNES. I guess not to-night. 
 
 Gen. van POOLE. You vile huzzy! [Catches her.] 
 
 [Eliza grabs up the afghan from off the lounge and throws it over 
 his head, and pulls him down. At this point John appears and takes 
 hold of Van Poole.] 
 
 JOHN. You no longer are dealing with women, you cowardly cuss ! 
 
 [Catches him by the throat; with one hand holds him, and with 
 the other hits him in the eye.] 
 
 ELIZA. I guess his eyes will be black and blue by to-morrow, if 
 not sooner. Mary, run out and call the police; take along the alarm 
 whistle. 
 
 [Mary does so. In a few moments a Policeman appears. He sizes 
 up the situation and takes out a pair of handcuffs, and is about to 
 apply them.] 
 
 AGNES. There is no use of further roughness. He's overpowered; 
 take him out. 
 
 POLICEMAN. To the station? 
 
82 
 
 AGNES. No, I would not do that. Get a cab on the street, and 
 take him home. 
 
 [The Policeman goes out with Van Poole, and John goes with them. 
 In a few moments the Policeman returns.] 
 
 POLICEMAN. I found a cab on the corner, and John has taken 
 Gen. Van Poole to the old house where he lives. I told John if he 
 could not get him in there to take him to the station for the night, 
 and that I'd soon be there and explain matters to the chief. 
 
 [After awhile John reappears.] 
 
 POLICEMAN. Did you take him home ? 
 
 JOHN. Yes; but it being so late, I could arouse nO one, so I took 
 him to the station, and told the chief that you'd soon be round and 
 explain. 
 
 AGNES. I am glad that we got rid of him as soon so we did. Mr. 
 Policeman, we are glad that you were so near. 
 
 POLICEMAN. Fortunately I was just at the corner. I heard the 
 whistle and responded. I thought that I would return to see if there 
 was anj'thing more to do. 
 
 AGNES. Nothing more to-night. I thank you for responding so 
 quickly. It's the worst experience I ever had. I am sick and 
 ashamed — ashamed that I drove one of the best men God ever made 
 out of this house, and took in such a vile, low fellow. I trust that 
 there shall be no public report of this affair. 
 
 POLICEMAN. Certainly not. Madam. So good night. 
 
 [Goes out.] 
 
 AGNES. Let's all retire. What a night ! What an experience ! 
 
 [Breaks down, and is led out by Eliza and Mary. In a few minutes 
 ErjzA returns.] 
 
 ELIZA. Yes; what an experience ! If it were not so sad a matter, 
 I should say that it served her right. To drive out such a man as 
 Ansel Van Person was and take in such a vile fellow as this General ! 
 Bah ! O that Ansel were here to console the woman that has thus 
 wronged him! Poor soul ! Wonder where he is to-night? All 
 brought about by that female agent of this vile Van Poole ! I don't 
 believe he has any right to that prefix Van, for it was a title of 
 nobility in Holland. I think that he only assumed it. Then he 
 played the part of the aristocrat ! A more common, low fellow I 
 never saw. Now we shall have a most worthy divorce. I'll go and 
 see how Agnes is. I don't believe she'll sleep much to-night. May 
 the comforter come — may Ansel soon return ! I took her letter to 
 Mr. Fitzgerald to-day. The dear soul, with tears in her eyes, read 
 it to me. She asked Mr. Fitzgerald to inform her when Ansel would 
 leave London for America, as she wished to be on the lookout for 
 him. Mr. Fitzgerald wrote her that Ansel would sail on the steamer 
 Plellig Olav, of the Norwegian Line, which would be due in New 
 York the latter part of next week. She is so happy to think that he 
 is coming. Then we shall see and feel — 
 
33 
 
 The joys that we've tested 
 
 May sometimes return, 
 
 And return to stay. 
 VOICE. Ansel is on the great deep, 
 
 And the great spirit doth him keep; 
 
 And not far distant, but soon. 
 
 Ere another moon. 
 
 He shall see his real wife. 
 
 And there shall be no more strife. 
 
 And Elsie, his dear little child. 
 
 Once more shall feel his presence mild; 
 
 Heaviness shall endure for awhile; 
 
 But joy Cometh with the morning, 
 
 Then we shall find our hero the gods adoring. 
 
 SCENE: The old house and room. 
 
 AGNES. I have been to Mr. Fitzgerald's office and I learn that 
 Ansel will soon be home. He comes by the Norwegan line, because 
 it is a cool route, I suppose, and at this time of year they often see 
 icebergs. I shall call again to-day. 
 
 ELIZA. He can't come too quick. We have all so missed him. 
 Little Elsie, she evidently has missed her papa. How'd I like to see 
 her again spring in his arms and he singing the old nursery songs ! 
 What a lot of songs he knows ! 
 
 AGNES. Yes, we shall all be so happy to see him again, only I 
 feel ashamed to meet him. 
 
 ELIZA. Don't worry. He won't ever refer to the past. 
 
 AGNES. I don't think he will; indeed I know he won't. But 
 that don't interfere with my feelings — feelings that I cannot help. 
 How many times have I said to myself, " Foolish woman ! It serves 
 you right ! ' ' 
 
 SCENE : Same place ; two days after. 
 ELIZA. Any news? 
 
 AGNES. Yes; the steamer is due to-morrow, late in the after- 
 noon. She has been reported off the coast. 
 
 SCENE: Second day after. 
 VOICE [sings] : 
 
 Joys that we've tasted 
 
 May sometimes return — 
 
 The splendors that were clouded. 
 
 No longer are shrouded. 
 
 There is now a light in the window for thee, my lover. 
 
 No longer does the darkness hover — 
 
 When next Ansel and Agnes meet, 
 
 Two hearts together shall beat^ 
 
34 
 
 AGNES. A supreme joy overtaketh me. I went with the carriage 
 for Ansel, but as the boat was verj^ late (past ten o'clock), 1 thought 
 it prudent to return. But then I'd by far rather greet him here, in 
 our own home, than at a steamship landing. 
 
 [Ansel enters; she springs to his arms; there is no power of speech 
 in either; for some minutes all is silent.] 
 
 AGNES. O Ansel, forgive me ! I have been a most foolish woman. 
 Ever since I drove you out your face has haunted me. 
 
 ANSEL. Let's be seated; say nothing about the past. As Long- 
 fellow says: 
 
 Let the past dead bury its dead. 
 
 I always tried to make this home pleasant. As I was in the past, 
 so shall I be in the future. But where is Elsie? 
 
 AGNES. She's not up yet. For a long time the dear little thing 
 missed you. She was uneasy. It took a long time to get her to sleep. 
 
 ANSEL. So you have my picture here — and yours beside it. 
 That's good ! 
 
 AGNES. Yes. When I went to Fitzgerald's to see about the di- 
 vorce I saw your picture on his wall. When I awoke from that hor- 
 rible nightmare I asked Mr. Fitzgerald if he would let me have it. 
 The request pleased liim much. Then I decided to have Mr. Lewin 
 paint mine as a companion one. There was much pleasure in gazing 
 at your picture. I'd bring little Elsie, and she soon got to calling it 
 papa. 
 
 ANSEL. Let's see, she fully a year and a half old now. 
 
 AGNES. Yes; she trots around, plays with her toys, and, like 
 you, she loves pets. She and the cat get along finely together. But 
 while I know that it is most unpleasant and humiliating to me, I 
 want to tell you of all that has happened since I began that foolish, 
 wicked move. The night that Mr. Van Poole called and you went 
 off to bed, you remember? It seemed like a small act, yet I have 
 often thought what faith you had in me to leave me alone with that 
 man, your worst enemy; the man who all the while was trying to 
 supplant you, using a woman for his agent. That night we played 
 checkers; I beat him; in fact, I skunked him; begot no king. Then 
 we had a chat, one which at the time I thought was very pleasant. 
 He stayed late. When he got up to go he kissed my hand; then 
 asked if he might kiss me. I consented. [Shivers.] Yes, I shiver 
 to think of it. He kissed me, and that was the only time I received 
 a kiss from him. 
 
 ANSEL. One would think that a man would want to kiss his 
 bride — and to kiss her whenever they parted. 
 
 AGNES. He was not like you. He only kissed me twice, and that 
 on the same night, and that makes me shudder. You have kissed me 
 a thousand times, and all are remembered with pleasure. From first 
 to last he never noticed Eleie; he cared for no one but himself. Then 
 
35 
 
 what a marked difference between you and he as to money matters ! 
 You never asked me for monej^ and was loath to take it when offered, 
 and returned it. He, even before the wedding, had the coolness and 
 impudence to ask me for $1,000,000, and fool that I was, I joyfully 
 gave it to him. 0, I was so angry with you! But in a few days it 
 was centered upon myself. I said nothing, but I was angry when I 
 thought what I had done. You see I still wear your rings. Had I at 
 first thought about them I should have thrown them away, but some- 
 how mechanically I took them off at night and put them on again in 
 the morning. But before a month had passed I would not have 
 parted with them; they were a most pleasant reminder of you. Then 
 there was the beautiful motto. 
 
 ANSEL. How came you to rid yourself of that fellow? 
 
 AGNES. It was dramatic; but since I have often laughed over the 
 scene. He came home drunk; abused me; called for his slippers; I 
 thought he had them. He threw them across the room; said they were 
 not his; called me a huzzy. When I came to see the slippers they 
 were yours; they were not large enough for him. How fortunate it 
 was that I did not know that they were your slippers ! Had I, I would 
 have thrown them in the fire; but after this affair I would not part 
 with them. He chased me about the room; I ran around the table. 
 I have often wished that there was some artist about to have taken 
 me as I appeared running around this table. Finally he caught hold 
 of me; Eliza and Mary came; later they called a policeman. He 
 came; John came. Eliza did a cute thing. 
 
 ANSEL. What's that? 
 
 AGNES. She threw that afghan over his head and pulled him 
 down. He was down and John on top of him when the policeman 
 came. He took him away, and that was the last I saw of him. The 
 next morning he came; I would not see him. He had a letter all 
 written, and it was finely written. He was very humble and very 
 penitent; begged to be taken back; but I was firm. I would have 
 nothing more to do with him. 
 
 ANSEL. Where is he now ? 
 
 AGNES. In jail, I guess; was there the last I heard of him. 
 
 ANSEL. How's that? 
 
 AGNES. He stole my diamonds; gave them to that woman. On 
 my money they went to Europe. I had missed the diamonds, so when 
 he returned 1 had him arrested, and he is now in jail, where he 
 ought to be ! To think that I was intimate with such a man ! It 
 makes me indignant. There are not enough adjectives in the lan- 
 guage to express my indignation. 
 
 ANSEL. That reminds me of a story. Some colored boys were 
 together. The rest were united against the one. They called him 
 all the vile names of which they could think — "Damn fool! Damn 
 liar!" etc. Then he turned on them, and said, "All dem things you 
 
36 
 
 say I is you is dem ! " That silenced them. Well, I've heard enough 
 now of the unpleasant, let's talk about the pleasant. 
 
 AGNES. As we were divorced, I suppose that we should again be 
 married, or remarried. 
 
 ANSEL. No; I do not recognize that we were ever divorced. I 
 shall have no other ceremony; one is enough. 
 
 AGNES. For my sake allow it; not that I see any need of it, but 
 it was so fine I want to go through with it again. 
 
 [Eliza enters.] 
 
 ELIZA. By all means, Mr. Van Person, by all means. It was 
 the most charming affair I ever saw. 
 
 [Goes out.] 
 
 ANSEL. Then so be it; make the arrangements and invite the 
 friends. There is one feature I would add. I'd like some friend, 
 say Fitzgerald, dressed in old Colonial style, with a large cane, like 
 Old Knickerbocker, to lead the way. By the way, Agnes, it amuses 
 me to see how interested Eliza is in our domestic affairs. She don't 
 seem very romantic, j^et she is; and I would not be surprised if she 
 had some love affair when she was young. 
 
 AGNES. If you heard her sing the love songs that I have heard 
 her sing you would be confirmed in your opinion — 
 
 Thoughts, thoughts, tender and true, love, 
 Say, say, wilt thou love, etc. 
 Then there is another song, or rather poem, that is often upon her 
 lips. I can only recall two lines of it — lines that reveal the yearn- 
 ings of the soul: 
 Thou art a bird, my soul. 
 
 Thou lovest to dwell upon the ground, though heaven is thy goal. 
 I wish you could have been there that night and seen her throw 
 the afghan over Mr. Van Poole's head, and pull him down. It was 
 comical, indeed. 
 
 ANSEL. Why say "Mr." Van Poole? Why not call him general 
 [smiling] ? 
 
 AGNES. General! He was never more of a general than I. He's 
 too cowardly for a soldier. 
 
 SCENE: Fitzgerald's office. 
 
 FITZGERALD. Ansel, I am mighty glad to see you back and 
 once more in the old house. The beast is caged. That divorce of 
 your wife was most unpleasant; but the second divorce gave me 
 much pleasure. Prof. Hox and Jed were in, and they, too, are happy 
 at the new turn of affairs. 
 
 ANSEL. So there was a second divorce ? Agnes did not tell me 
 about it; but then she had so much else to tell. Then I don't sup- 
 
37 
 
 pose it would have been pleasant for her. Now that I've been through 
 with it, I am not sorry that it took place; that is, if you will under- 
 stand me. I am not sorry for the experience, and I think that it will 
 bind two souls more closely together. I wanted to see you, for I 
 have seen the portraits. Thank you for keeping mine. But I must 
 hurry back, to see them all — Agnes, little Elsie and the faithful Eliza. 
 So good bye. I'll be around again soon. 
 
 SCENE: Old room. 
 
 AGNES. Here are your slippers. When we review things in re- 
 trospect, while we see the dark side, the sorrowful and provoking 
 side, we cannot but see the humorous. I now again see that drunken 
 man throwing these slippers across the room. That was the turning 
 point. We had for some time, as the sailors say, been on the lee 
 shore. I don't know much about such things, so don't fully appre- 
 ciate the saying. 
 
 ANSEL. Suppose we go to ride this afternoon and call on Miss 
 SuUvan. 
 
 AGNES. For pity sake, don't ever refer to that woman again ! 
 
 ANSEL. It was only a little of my humor. I never called on her, 
 nor ever shall. 
 
 AGNES. I know it. I won't be angry with your humor. Per- 
 sonally, she was not a bad woman. She came to see me, and was 
 most penitent — begged my pardon. She returned the diamonds; I 
 saw that she was in poverty, so I gave her |1,000. She's gone West, 
 somewhere; when she got settled she said she'd write me. 
 
 ANSEL. Yes; we agree in this as in other things. She was 
 simply the tool of an unprincipled man. Well, let's go to ride. One 
 night when I was on the ocean I could not sleep. I got up and stood 
 by the port. It was cloudy and the full moon had just emerged from 
 a cloud. Mechanically I began to sing a part of the two verses of 
 the XXth Psalm: 
 
 The Lord hear thee in the day of trouble; 
 
 The name of the God of Jacob defend thee. * * * Grant thee 
 thy heart's desire and fulfill all thy mind. 
 
 I repeated this over a number of times before I was conscious of 
 what I was saying. Then I laid down and slept well till morning, 
 and the while dreamed of you and our little Elsie. 
 
 AGNES. That was indeed a pretty dream. After that scene that I 
 have told you about I often dreamed of you, and when I awoke my 
 eyes were wet with tears. In my sleep I had been crying. Now 
 that it is all over I am not sorry for the sad and humiliating experi- 
 ence. 
 
 ANSEL. Well, let's go to ride. 
 
38 
 
 AGNES. There is one thing more. To-night I want you to get 
 some peanuts and put peanut earrings on my ears, as you used to do. 
 
 VOICE. 
 
 All is over. Like Job, the true man is the victor. 
 
 No longer is there a Nestor — 
 
 The name of the God of Jacob hath him defended, 
 
 No longer shall his soul be rended. 
 
 0, Lord, grant him his heart's desire, 
 
 Continue unto him thy holy fire. 
 
 His soul ever inspire, 
 
 That his love may ever burn, 
 
 His spirit ever turn 
 
 To thee — to his home and dear ones. 
 
 And when the last hour comes 
 
 May Ansel and Agnes into thy kingdom come 
 
 After their life here on earth is done. 
 
 ISAAC PITMAN NOYES. 
 
 Washington, D. C, 
 
 May 1, 1906.