NO PLAYS E5:CHANGED. ^^1^„4 -^t--- T.^. DENISON 5c COMPANY CHICAGO- iS»'cl'^-S-43fl^^ s' :r'-*::^ m DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS. A Partial List of Successful and Popular Plays. Lar|{e Catalogue Free. Price 15 Cents Each, Postpaid- Unless Different Price is Given. DRAMAS. COMEDIES. ENTER- TAINMENTS, Etc. M. F. After the Game, 2 acts, 1%. hrs (25c) 1 9 All a Mistake, 3 acts, 2 hrs. (25c) 4 4 All That Glitters Is Not Gold, 2 acts, 2 hrs 6 3 Altar of Riches, 4 acts, 2;^ hrs. (25c) 5 5 American Hustler, 4 acts, 2}/$ hrs (25c) 7 4 Arabian Nights, 3 acts, 2 hrs... 4 5 Bank Cashier, 4 acts, 2 hrs. (25c) 8 4 Black Heifer, 3 acts, 2 hrs. (25c) 9 3 Bonnybell, 1 hr (25c).Optnl. Brookdale Farm, 4 acts, 2J4 hrs. (25c) 7 3 Brother Josiah, 3 acts, 2 h.(25c) 7 4 Busy Liar, 3 acts, 2^ hrs. (25c) 7 4 Caste, 3 acts, 2V2 hrs 5 3 Corner Drug Store, 1 hr. (25c) 17 14 Cricket on the Hearth, 3 acts, I3yi hrs 7 8 Danger Signal, 2 acts, 2 hrs... 7 4 Daughter of the Desert, 4 acts, 2^4 hrs (25c) 6 4 Down i.: Dixie, 4 acts, 2y2 hrs. (25c) 8 4 East Lynne, 5 acts, 2 '4 hrs 8 7 Editor-in-Chief. 1 hr (25c) 10 Elma, 13^ hrs (25c) Optnl. Enchanted Wood, 1^ h.(35c) Optnl. Eulalia, i;^ hrs (25c) Optnl. Face at the Window, 3 acts, 2 hrs (25c) 4 4 From Sumter to Appomattox, 4 acts, 2y2 hrs (25c) 6 2 Fun on the Podunk Limited, VA hrs (25c) 9 14 Handy Andy(Irish),2acts,li^ h. 8 2 Heiress of Hoetown, 3 acts, 2 hrs (25c) 8 4 High School Freshman, 3 acts, 2 h (25c) 12 Home, 3 acts, 2 hrs 4 3 Honor of a Cowboy, 4 acts, 2^ hrs .- (25c) 13 4 Iron Hand, 4 acts, 2 hrs.. (25c) 5 4 It's All in the Pay Streak, 3 acts, 1^ hrs (25c) 4 3 Jayville Junction, lyi hrs.(2Sc)14 17 Jedediah Judkins, J. P., 4 acts, 21/4 hrs (2Sc) 7 5 Kingdom of Heart's Content, 3 acts, 214 hrs (25c) 6 12 Light Brigade, 40 min (25c) 10 Little Buckshot, 3 acts, 2%. hrs. (2Sc) 7 4 Lodge of Kye Tyes, 1 hr.(25c)13 Lonelyville Social Club, 3 acts, iy2 hrs (25c) 10 M. F. Louva, the Pauper, 5 acts, 2 h. . 9 4 Man from Borneo, 3 acts, 2 hrs. (2Sc) 5 2 Man from Nevada, 4 acts, 2^ hrs (25c) 9 5 Mirandy's Minstrels (25c) Optnl. New Woman, 3 acts, 1 hr 3 6 Not Such a Fool as He Looks, 3 acts, 2 hrs 5 3 Odds with the Enemy, 4 acts, IH hrs 7 4 Old Maid's Club, iVi hrs. (25c) 2 16 Old School at Hick'ry Holler, 1J4 hrs (25c)12 9 Only Daughter, 3 acts, 1% hrs. 5 2 On the Little Big Horn, 4 acts, 214 hrs (25c) 10 4 Our Boys, 3 acts, 2 hrs 6 4 Out in the Streets, 3 acts, 1 hr. 6 4 Pet of Parson's Ranch, 5 acts, 2 h. 9 2 School Ma'am, 4 acts, IK hrs.. 6 5 Scrap of Paper, 3 acts, 2 hrs.. 6 6 Seth Greenback, 4 acts, 1 14 hrs. 7 3 Soldier of Fortune, 5 acts, 2 5^2 h. 8 3 Solon Shingle, 2 acts, 1^ hrs.. 7 2 Sweethearts, 2 acts, 35 min.... 2 2 Ten Nights in a Barroom, 5 acts, 2 hrs 7 4 Third Degree, 40 min (25c) 12 Those Dreadful Twins, 3 acts, 2 hrs (25c) 6 4 Ticket-of -Leave Man, 4 acts, 2 J4 hrs 8 3 Tonv, The Convict, 5 acts, 2^/4 hrs (25c) 7 4 Topp's Twins, 4 acts, 2 h. . (25c) 6 4 Trip to Storyland, 1% hrs.(2Sc)17 23 Uncle Josh, 4 acts, 2^4 hrs. (25c) 8 3 Under the Laurels, 5 acts, 2 hrs. 6 4 Under the Spell, 4 acts, 2}^ hrs (25c) 7 3 Yankee Detective, 3 acts, 2 hrs. 8 3 FARCES, COMEDIETTAS. Etc. April Fools, 30 min 3 Assessor, The, 10 min 3 2 Aunt Matilda's Birthday Party, 35 min K Baby Show at Pineville, 20 min. 19 Bad Job, 30 min 3 2 Betsy Baker, 45 min 2 2 Billy's Chorus Girl, 25 min... 2 3 Billy's Mishap, 20 min 2 3 Borrowed Luncheon, 20 min.. 5 Borrowing Trouble, 20 min.... 3 5 Box and Cox, 35 min 2 1 Cabman No. 93, 40 min.. 2 2 Case Against Casey, 40 min... 23 < Convention of Papas, 25 min. . . 7 Country Justice, 15 min 8 Cow that Kicked Chicago, 20 m. 3 2 T. S. DENISON & COMPANY, 154 W. Randolph SU Chicago The Old Oaken Bucket A RURAL DRAMA IN FOUR ACTS BY MARY MONCURE PARKER AL'THOK OF 'Mrs. Busby's Pink Tea" and "Lucindy Goes to Town' CHICAGO T. S. DENISON & COMPANY Publishers THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET CHARACTERS. Reuben Hardacre A Square, Honest Old Farmer Tom His Son, a Chip of the Old Block Arthur Ames True Blue Mark Hayward A Wolf in Sheep's Clothing Jake Tompkins . . . .In Love with Teddy, ''Not Wisely hut Too Well" Mr. G. Whillikins A Neighbor EzRY Babb. .The Postmaster Who Reads the Postal Cards Rev. William Mason The Peacemaker Martha Hardacre . .Reuben's Wife Loved by Everybody Lizzie Lawrence. . .T/?^ Light of Uncle Reuben's Eyes Emily Lawrence (Otherzvise known as Teddy) .... The Sunshine of the Household Sapphira Scriggins The Village Gossip Mrs. G. Whillikins Very Proper But Not Charitable Miry Jones The Village Belle Time — The Present. Place — A Rural District. Time of Playing — About Two Hours. SYNOPSIS. Act I — Exterior of the Hardacre Farm House. Sunday afternoon. Act H — Kitchen and living room in the home of Reuben Hardacre. The next morning. . Act hi — The same, two years later. Winter. Act IV — Kitchen and living room in the home of Reuben Hardacre. One week later. Notice— Production of this play is free to amateurs, but the sole professional rights are reserved by the Publishers. copyright, 1913, by eben h. norris. 2 Tl^P96-007520 0)CLD 34810 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Synopsis for program. Act I. — Farmyard at the Hardacre farm. ''Reuben, you air so sot." "Jedge not." The village gossip makes things lively. Jake's love-making draws down a bucket of water upon his shaggy head as merry Teddy laughingly refuses him. The young- artist recognizes a villain and also makes a conquest at the old well. Mark's education and good looks captivate Lizzie. "Meet me at the old log cabin at midnight." "Oh, Uncle, forgive me." Act II — Interior Hardacre farm house. The early risers. Even Ted gets up early to pick flowers. The Artist's folio. ''Well I'll be darned if that don't look just like Ted." Best blue dining set for breakfast. An important guest. The discovery of Lizzie's plight. "You read the letter, Tom, I can't." Sapphira bobs in. "I shudder to think I might have been drawed away." Reuben has a word to say to Sapphira. "Ain't nobody goin' to say a word agin' me or mine without gettin' acquainted with the way to the front door." True hearts and gingham skirts. Tom goes to find Lizzie. "He'll answer fer it with his life." Act III — Two years later. A winter evening. Jake reads the village paper. Laketown gettin' met-ro-pol-i-tan. Re- news suit. "-Gals is queer critters." "If you don't take me Ted, I'll go and propose to Miry Jones." A second rebuff, — "I hate to see you lose a good thing, Ted." Tarnal wood box empty again. The Artist's return. "You have never even written." The picture, "The Old Oaken Bucket," that brought fame and money. Happy hearts. Aunt Martha's amxazement. A stormy night — and a knock at the door. "It's Lizzie." The wanderer's return. Uncle Reuben's great joy. "You ain't been away from our hearts a min- ute." "God bless you for your sweet forgiveness." Act IV — One week later. Ted's wedding day. The happy household. A surprise party. Snow, sleighbells and merriment. The country dance. Ezry Babb calls off. Liz- 4 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. zie's entrance — consternation. ''How's Mr. Hayward?" The wrath of the sturdy old farmer. Rev. Mason inter- venes. Tom asks Lizzie to be his wife. Sapphira won- ders — "The idea of him takin' her when he could get me." STORY OF THE PLAY. . Reuben Hardacre, known to everyone as Uncle Reuben, a farmer with a heart as big as his body, lives happily with his good old wife, his son, a square, upright chip of the old block, and two orphan relatives, Lizzie and Emily Law- rence, children of a cousin and old friend, at the Hardacre farm house. Life has moved along in the usual quiet, event- less way from season to season, until the advent of Mark Hay ward, a book agent and a man of education, but inci- dentally a hypocrite and the villain of the play. As the little rustic church is without a preacher, and Hayward is a good talker, although only a layman, the trustees have secured his services for a series of Sunday talks, thinking, of course, that he is what he represents himself to be. Hayward does not ring like true metal to honest Uncle Reuben, who, however, does not suspect that the younger man is lingering because of Lizzie Lawrence, a sweet, pretty young woman, serious and high-minded, who has received a better education than those about her. She and her sister, Emily, or Teddy, as she is called, a merry, happy, charming young girl, were educated at the school in their home town before the death of their parents, when they became the wards of Uncle Reuben. Hayward's good looks, superior education and attractive ways have capti- vated Lizzie in her turn, who looks upon him as a superior being. Arthur Ames, a young artist, who in a sketching tour about the country, came upon the old-fashioned well at the Hardacre farm house and begged to sketch it, has lingered at the home of the hospitable farmer because of his interest in Teddy. He is an honorable young man, much in love THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 5 with the girl, but very poor in this world's goods. Jake Tompkins, a hired man, a typical country bumpkin, is also in love with Teddy, but she laughs at his pretensions. Tom, the strong manly son of the house, has a deep affection for Lizzie, but does not express his feeHngs openly, believing she does not care for him except as a friend. The father of the girls was a distant relative and lifelong friend of Uncle Reuben, who loves them as though they were his own. When at the beginning of the second act it is discovered that Lizzie has eloped with Mark Hayward, Uncle Reuben's heart is bowed with grief. He sends Arthur Ames away^ not believing in his intentions, and the young man cannot say much, as he is poor and has his way to make in the world. Sapphira Scriggins, a mischief- making, gossipy old maid, with a sense of humor and not quite the right idea of truth, bobs in and out of the Hard- acre home with her stories and gossip. Tom goes to find Lizzie, but does not succeed. She comes back, however, having discovered that Hayward is a villain, and is for- given and taken back by the dear ones who love her. Teddy, who has grown grave and sad because of the events that have come into her life, but who still turns down the proposals of poor Jake Tompkins, is suddenly restored to happiness, not only by Lizzie's return, but because Arthur Ames comes back from abroad to claim her. He has at- tained success and a name with a picture of a girl standing by an old well which he entitled "The Old Oaken Bucket." The girl on the canvas, which had brought him fame, was Teddy. The other characters, Mr. and Mrs. G. Whillikins, Miry Jones, Ezry Babb and the Rev. William Mason, come in for the merrymaking and country dance at the wedding of Arthur and Teddy in the last act. Lizzie's entrance causes a disturbance among the nar- row minded neighbors. The Rev. William Mason, a noble, kind-hearted clergyman, brings them to their sense of right and justice. Tom asks Lizzie to marry him, and Sapphira wonders how^ Tom could want Lizzie "when he could get me." The curtain falls on the rural drama — "'"he Old 6 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Oaken Bucket" — with peace in the Httle community and happiness to those beloved by good old Reuben and his dear old wife. CHARACTERS AND COSTUMES. Reuben Hardacre — Makeup stout, about sixty-five years of age, hale, hearty and ruddy. In first act wears Sunday clothes — white shirt, black vest (no coat), black trousers. Second act : Gingham shirt, overalls, big straw hat. Third act: Farm clothes. Comes in with big overcoat, red woolen scarf wound about his neck, cap with earlaps. Fourth act : Same as first, wears coat at wedding ceremony, takes it off when guests come. Aunt Martha — About sixty years of age, kind-faced, stout, dressed in black dress, white apron, with small shawl about her shoulders, for the first act. Second act : Calico dress, gingham apron. Same, third act, with shawl about her shoulders. Fourth act : Same as first act, for the wed- ding — best black gown. Tom — Square shouldered, quiet, has little to say, but is good natured and attractive. First act: Has on white shirt, dark trousers, but wears overalls, as he has been attending to farm duties ; large straw hat. Second act : Farm work- ing cothes, overalls, gingham shirt, etc. Third act: Winter clothes, overcoat, cap, boots. Last act: Dark suit, white shirt, black tie. Lizzie Lawrence — Dainty, attractive, about twenty- two. Simple white gown and straw hat, flower trimmed, first act. Third act: Plain black gown and cape and hood. Fourth act : Simple black gown. Emily, or Teddy, as she is called, about seventeen, lively and sweet tempered. First act : Dark skirt and white shirt- waist and white brimmed hat. Second act : Gingham dress, apron and sunbonnet Third act : Dark woolen gown, apron. Fourth act: Simple white wedding gown, flowers in her hair. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 7 Arthur Ames: About twenty-four. Dressed in artist's brown velveteen coat and dark trousers with flowing black tie, white shirt, or may wear Norfolk suit and leggings in first act. Second act : Same. Third act : Dark suit and ulster. Last act : Black suit, white shirt, etc ; may be Prince Albert or cutaway coat, gray trousers and gray gloves, flower in buttonhole. Mark LIayward — Attractive, about thirty-five, slightly gray at temples ; black suit, flowing black tie, white shirt, soft, rather wide brimmed black hat, such as might be worn by a professional man. Jake Tompkins — About twenty, awkward, loutish, good hearted chap. First act: Sunday-best, checked trousers, dark coat, striped shirt, white collar, red necktie and small derby hat. Second act : Overalls, gingham shirt, straw hat. Third act: Rough winter farm clothes, heavy pea jacket, woolen scarf around neck, cap and mittens. Fourth act: Same as first. Sapphira Scriggins — Old maid about forty-five; cork- screw curls, shrewd, shrewish, but with a sense of humor and not unattractive. First act : Poke bonnet, veil, old-fash- ioned flowered silk or cloth dress, old-fashioned wrap, white stockings and black shoes or slippers. Second act : Gingham apron, calico dress, sunbonnet. Fourth act : Same as first. Mr. G. Whillikins — Fifty years of age, gray hair and chin beard; old-fashioned suit. Spruced up for a party; overcoat and woolen neck scarf. Mrs. G. Whillikins — Fifty years of age, old-fashioned dark silk or cloth dress, white lace collar, large brooch, gray hair, old-fashioned wrap and bonnet. Miry Jones — Nineteen; hair curled and hanging tied with ribbon bow, white or colored gown, sash, white stock- ing and black slippers. Ezry Babb — Forty years of age, old-fashioned, suit too short in sleeves and trouser legs; white shirt, bright col- ored tie. 8 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Rev. William Mason — Clergyman of fifty; neat black suit and tie, white shirt and collar ; must look neat and cler- ical and dignified. LIST OF PROPERTIES. - Act I — Square old-fashioned well, old bucket with rope and pulley ; bench without back against well ; well can easily be made of a large, square, hollow box, stained dark, with pulley, handle and rope, ledge on corner on which to rest bucket (padding on floor inside box so that bucket will not sound on floor when lowered) rocker; straight chair; pitcher, glasses; bottle of sarsaparilla or pop to represent home-made wine ; plate of cookies ; fence ; gate entrance (it is not necessary to have the gate) ; two tin milk pails for Jake; bicycle and sketch book for Arthur; palm leaf fan on porch ; pipe for Uncle Reuben ; bench ; wash basin and towel. Act II — Cook stove; pots and pans; white curtain on window ; calico for valance over top of curtain ; bench across window covered with ruffled calico ; cupboard, com- mon white china, blue and white china ; several plates, cups and saucers, covered dish ; pitcher ; coffee pot ; platter ; roller towel ; stand ; basin ; comb ; small mirror ; picture or two ; vase ; six common kitchen chairs ; rocker ; artificial flowers for Teddy ; red table cloth ; white table cloth ; biscuits ; knives and forks ; coffee, and enough eatables to give the semblance of breakfast ; letter for Teddy ; armful of wood for Jake; box for wood; wall shelf; clock (optional). Act III — Pitcher ; two glasses, dish of apples ; red table cloth ; newspaper for Jake ; sewing for Teddy ; woolen com- forter for Jake; salt used as snow on coats for Arthur, Reuben and Tom when they come from outside; knitting for Aunt Martha; armful of wood for Jake; newspaper for Tom; socks for Aunt Martha's darning; sleighbells. Act IV — Salt to be used as snow for those who come from outside ; sleighbells ; two large baskets, one contain- THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 9 ing apples, doughnuts, sandwiches, cake, etc., the other the bridal presents ; plush album ; plush collar and cuff boxes ; quilt; old-fashioned caster with vinegar cruet, salt, pepper, etc. ; fiddle or mouth organ for Ezry Babb if he can play ; if not, music can be supplied by orchestra or piano from the audience room. 10 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. STAGE SETTINGS. Act I. Fence Fence Wood Wings A set house will, of course, add to the effect of Act 1, yet it is not absolutely necessary, and in case one is not used all en- trances and exits marked "door of house" should be made L. 2 E. / Acts II, III and IV , 1 window f- Door Cupboard o o Q nch with \ ish Basin i- o o/ /o Table and Chairs Chairs o Door Stove In Act III and IV only three chairs at the table, the remainder placed about the room. If not convenient to have a stove on the stage, have it appear to be off L. or behind a screen at the L. side of the stage. STAGE DIRECTIONS. R., means right of stage; C, center; R. C, right center; L., left; 1 E., first entrance; U. E., upper entrance; R. 3 E., right entrance upstage, *etc. ; D. F., door of flat or back of the stage; upstage away from footlights, downstage, near footlights. The actor is supposed to be facing the audience. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET ACT I. Scene : Farm yard at Uncle Reuben Hardacre's; side porch and part of house in view, L.; ham supposedly at right of stage; fence with gate at rear of stage divides house and yard from barn yard; an old well zvith oaken bucket and chain at R. of stage in front of fence; a bench or seat in front of puell. Aunt Martha seated in a rocker near the porch, reading her Bible; Uncle Reuben in stiff- ness of Sunday boiled shirt seated on the steps of porch whittling. Plate of cookies on porch beside Uncle Reuben. Uncle Reuben. I ain't meanin' to be critical, but some- how it don't seem to me his talk rings true. Leastaways 'taint the same way I interprets Scripter, but I s'pose I'm ole fogy an' behin' the times. Aunt Martha. Jedge not that ye be not jedged. t never seen a man more clever or better versed in Scripter. Reuben. Oh, you wimmin folks is gone clear off the handle about him. I s'pose if Mark Hayward was to leave here tomorrow he'd have a string o' wimmin folks follerin' him like the young 'uns after that Piper o' Hamlin that Lizzie was readin' about the other day. Martha. Now Reuben, you know you said he was smart as a weasel when he fust come — Reuben. I ain't sayin' but what he's smart enough — full of book learnin' an' things I ain't ever heerd on, but I know when a man speaks from his soul an' with a heart full to bustin' with what he feels, an' I ain't accusin' him of it. Now I don't claim to be a Bible stoodent, but I ain't read the Scripter fer all these years fer nothin' neither, an' I say some of the things he makes the Bible say ain't what it do say, accordin' to my notion. (Martha looks up over the rims of her glasses.) 11 12 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Martha. We've been married five and thirty year, Reuben Hardacre, an' I never see you display so onchris- tian a spirit before. Why, you was the fust to want that young man to stay here and preach when he come round selHn' books two months ago. He wan't a regular ordained preacher, but he'd stay till we got a settled pastor. You know most of the people likes him better'n anybody we ever had. (Reuben pulls at his stubby beard and tzvists Jiis Jiead about, to make more eomfortable the "biled" shirt in zvhich he suffers a Sunday martyrdom.) Reuben. I know, I know. I was mighty sot on him myself at fust an' I ain't sayin' but what I like him well enough now, but I still say there's suthin' that don't ring like true metal in what he says, leastways to me — an' it seems like there is suthin' behind it all that I can^t quite make out. (He takes out his pipe, fills and lights it and sits puffing away on the step.) Martha. It's that biled shirt, Reuben. It makes a dif- ferent man of ye. Somehow you git kind of cantankerous when you hev on anything but a gingham shirt. Reuben. Mebbe that's so, Marthy. It's like them gold- rimmed Sunday glasses of yourn — you don't act nateral with 'em on. Now put on your steel-bowed everyday specs an' you're the same good feller that's worked side by side with me fur nigh onto forty years. From sunrise to sunset old lady we've pulled together in harness fur many a day, and we hev got a pretty good place here an' ain't had many fallin's out — eh, Marthy? {Rubbing his hands together.) Martha. That's so, Reuben ; but I don't know as every woman could live peacable with you — you air so sot — Reuben. I don't want every woman to live with me — one's all I kin manage. I know I am sot, Marthy, but I ain't often fooled in my judgment jest the same. You know, Marthy, you said when we fust settled on this land that it wan't never going to 'mount to nothing. Deer was runnin' through the timber land and sometimes wilder critters. Wolves used to come up to the door of the old log cabin yonder (points), but we stuck to it, you an' I, THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 13 through rain an' shine, an' we've seen this "wilderness blossom hke a rose," eh, old lady? Martha. Well, 'cause you was right for once ain't no sign you are alius right as I can see. Reuben. I ain't claimin' to be alius right, but this man somehow riles my stummick — somehow I don't like the way he looks at Lizzie — Martha. Reuben Hardacre, you're as full o' notions as an old maid. Reuben. Well, you know my one idee is to see Tom and Lizzie married, an' I don't want nothin' to come in the way of it. Ever since poor John died and left them gals to me they've been the sunshine of my life. You know John never could get along an' the best thing he ever did, by gosh, was to up an' die. Martha. Reuben, you make a fool of yourself over them gals, and especially Lizzie. Men is apt to take to a pretty gal as flies to the molasses jug; but Mr. Hayward ain't payin' Lizzie no unusual attention, I don't think. {Pauses and listens a moment.) What team's that comin' down the road. I think I hear one. (Reuben rises and walks to gate and shades his eyes with his hands.) Reuben. Well, speakin' of old maids; it looks like it might be Sapphiry Scriggins and the old gray mare — an' it is. Git ready to hear a pack of lies. (Comes back to Martha.) Martha. The Bible says lyin' lips are an abomination to the Lord an' how she's goin' to git round that ver§e when she gits to heaven — an' bein' a church member in good an' reg'lar standin' L s'pose she 'spects to git there — is more'n I kin tell. Reuben. Trust her to lie round it. Peter'U open the gate meek as Moses when Sapphiry gits to tellin' some of her yarns. (Walks back to gate as Sapphira drives up in an imaginary buggy and calls ''Whoa' back of scenes, off stage. Martha rises.) Howdy, Sapphiry. Unlight and rest yourself, won't ye? (Exit L.) Sapphira (off stage). Well, I ain't got long to stay, but I believe I'll stop a leetle while. 14 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET, Enter Sapphira, L. Martha (at C). Howdy, Sapphlry. Will you go inside or set out here? Sapphira {shakes hands with Martha). Let's set right here. It's most as warm as summer today. There, let me get a cheer. (Martha steps inside of door of house and hands out a chair.) Don't wait on me, Martha. I'm younger'n you be. My, this is pleasant. (Sits down and fans herself zvith a big palm leaf fan which is on the porch. Martha places chair at C. and gets the plate of cookies.) Martha. Have a cookie, Sapphiry? Sapphira. Cookies. Well I know what your cookies is. Enter Reuben through gate at C. Martha. Reuben, bring out some grape wine. (Reuben goes into house.) Sapphira. Seems to me like I never seen the earth lookin' so fine, everything so green and smellin' so fresh and new, like it do this spring. Enter Reuben with wine and glasses. Reuben. Have some grape wine, Sapphiry? Sapphira. Grape wine. Well, everybody knows what your grape wine is, .Marthy. (Reuben pours her a gener- ous glass.) Reuben. Say when. Sapphira. There, there; that's a plenty. You'll be makin' a toper out of me. {Leans hack and rocks, sipping wine and munching cookies.) 'Twas fine drivin' along the road today. Too bad Ezry Babb's sick. (Reuben goes to former seat on porch.) Martha {sits in her rocker L.). Ezry sick? Sapphira. Sick — ain't you heerd? Why, the doctor says he has the pleurfsy. (Sapphira looks up triumphantly as the hearer of news. She pronounces the word with the long i sound and she is quite joyous zvhen she sees hy the ex- pressions upon the faces of her hearers that they have not the slightest idea as to what manner of disease the pleurisy might he.) THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 15 Martha (trying to appear unconcerned) . Anything like the ammonia? You know Miry Jones had that last winter. Sapphira (looking very wise). Oh, no! Much worse than the pneumonia, I think. (With the stress on the cor- rected syllable.) My sister Louisa had the pleurisy once. Reuben (zvinks slyly at Martha). Your kin has had most every sort of disease and mishap, ain't they Sapphiry? Sapphira (not noticing the interruption). Let's see; 'twas the middle of '73 or it might have been '74 and Louisa was terrible sick. You know in this here pleurisy a body's chest gits all filled up with water, an' one night, when I was sleepin' with Louisa — I nursed her, you know — I heerd suthin' goin' swish, swash, swish, swash, an' I says, "Louisa, have you got your hand shakin' it round in a bucket of water?" An' she says, "No; how foolish you talk." An' what do you think that noise came from, Marthy? Why, 'twas made by Louisa's heart and lung rolling round in the water in her chest. Reuben (aside). I don't know what pleurisy is, but I'll bet dollars to doughnuts that's a lie. Sapphira (taking a sip of wine, by no means exhausted after her effort and reaching for another cooky.) LIow do you like Mr. Hayward for a preacher? Some of the members likes him awful well and some says he ain't orthydox — Reuben (zvho has settled himself comfortably on the edge of the porch against one up the uprights, stops whit- tling and interrupts) . Them's my sentiments. I was just tellin' 'em to Marthy as you come up. I don't want to be onchristian — Martha. Now, Reuben Hardacre, I wouldn't say no more if I was you. Sapphira. Oh, don't be afeard of my repeatin' what he says, Marthy. You know I ain't no gossip an' this is just between friends ; 'twon't go .no further. Reuben (aside). 'Twon't travel no further till she gits started hum. Sapphira. Besides, 'tain't no more than what lots of 16 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. other folks is sayin'. You know he ain't a reg'lar ordained preacher — he's just a book agent. Reuben {emphatically). What I says I stands by, an' I ain't afeerd of no man. Of course I don't want to be un- just, an' some folks, the women folks 'specially — Sapphira. Not me. Martha. I'm afeerd he kind of snubbed you, Sapphiry. Sapphira {Having up). Snubbed me. Well, I guess not; he didn't get a chance. Reuben. You excepted, of course, Sapphiry ; but most of 'em seems to be head over heels in love with him and his idees. Martha. Not his idees, Reuben — the Lord's. He's been expoundin' Scripter to us. {The stubborn old farmer shakes his head.) Reuben. I ain't so sure about the idees. My Bible and his'n is two kinds of Scripter, I'm thinkin'. Sapphira {ivith a birdlike twist of her head). Lizzie seems to like his way of teachin'. I seen her an' him walkin' along the road, discussin' somethin' as I come along just now. Reuben {gives Sapphira quick look). Lizzie an' the preacher? Why, Lizzie went alone fur a walk 'bout an hour ago. Sapphira {slyly and with malice in her tone). Must have got lonesome then, for she wasn't alone when I see her. (Uncle Reuben gets up and walks back to gate nervously.) I don't want to say nothin', but maybe it's my duty an' you ought to know that folks is talkin' scandalous about the way Lizzie an' Mr. Hayward is goin' on. They're sayin' Lizzie's dead set on the preacher an' he ain't got no notion of marryin' her. Reuben {comes to front of stage angrily). Who's talkin' that kind of stuff? Sapphira {looking somewhat frightened) . Oh, nobody I kin name in partickler ; it's just general talk. Reuben. Well, if you hear any more sech talk, Sap- phiry Scriggins, ye kin tell the talker that Reuben Hard- acre ain't so old nor so weak that he can't lick the stuffiin' THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 17 out of any darned liar or scandalmonger that ever walked. Martha {looking horrified). Reuben, Reuben. Sech language, an' on the Sabbath day, too. I'm ashamed of ye. Sapphira {hastily 7'ising). I must be goin'. I'll tell what folks talks to me what you say, Reuben, and I guess there won't be much more said about it. (Reuben turns and goes out gate.) Well, goodby, Marthy. Come over soon. {Goes to gate. Reuben exits. Sapphira calls.) I can un- tie the aid mare, Reuben, thank ye. Doll, Doll; be still, you old fool. {Turning to Martha.) She's gettin' more playful every day she lives. Do you know, the other day I went to the barn fur some eggs fur Whillikins' hired man, and when I went past old Doll she caught the but- tons of my waist in her teeth an' bit every one of 'em off before you could say Jack Robinson. There stood Whilli- kins' hired man an' I was that mortified with my waist all open that I could a dropped an' I had to scurry up in the corner an' pin my waist together mighty quick, I kin tell ye. Well, goodby. Don't bother yur head 'bout what folks is sayin'. I've had a real nice afternoon. Goodby, Marthy. {Exit L. Back of scenes.) Goodby, Reuben. Enter Reuben, L. Reuben (wrathfully). If she'd been a man I'd have knocked down the lyin' fool. Martha {picking tip the plate of cookies and soiled glasses). Well, if you don't stop usin' that kind of lan- guage, an' showin' sech a spirit, I'll have to ask the prayers of the church for your soul. Reuben {standing at C). You needn't ask the preacher to pray fur me though, fur I've a notion I'm as good as he be, an' maybe a sight better. {Turns tozvard gate and Martha goes into the house.) Enter Tom and Jake, R. Reuben (pausing at gate). Have ye seen Lizzie any- wheres? (Tom halts at gate. Jake goes through gate and exits with milk pails R.) Tom {comes through and stands at left of gate). Yes, I seen her, but she had better company than me. 18 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Reuben (with a world of contempt in his tone). Better! Tom (with a shrug of his shoulders). Be that as it may. 'Twas company she Hked better, anyway. Reuben (leans against fence right of gate chewing a wisp of hay. Reflectively). I dunno as you've got any cause to s'pose too much in that Hne. Young gals is like colts, kinder skittish. You can't get 'em in harness too soon. But Lizzie's level-headed. She may like her little fling, but she ain't got no notion of keerin fur that black- coated rooster. Jake (from the ham R. off stage). Co, boss — steady there. Tom (grimly). Maybe when a gal's face lights up when she sees a feller an' she don't look out of sorts when he puts his arm around her' 'tain't no sign of anything seri- ous an' maybe a rainbow ain't a sign that the rain's over, but things kinder points that way. Reuben (looking troubled). Air you talkin' about what you acterly seen? Tom. Oh, I seen enough, if it comes to that. (Then, after a short pause.) Lizzie's got a right to choose between us, father. God knows I wouldn't force her to marry me if she can't love me, though I love her better'n my own life; but I tell you one thing (and Tom raises his brawny fist and strikes a sounding blow against the gate post) if he don't mean to treat her square and honest, he'll answer for it, if he answers with his Hfe. (Crosses stage and exits L. Reuben stands for a moment, then heaves a sigh, follows Tom and exits R.) Enter Lizzie and Mark Hayward, L. They zvalk to the gate. She steps inside and he leans on the gate. Mark Hayward. And you say I am different from any- one you have ever met? Lizzie. Yes — so different. You understand me. You don't know what a lonely life I lead. Mark. I can readily understand that. These good peo- ple are so illiterate there could be nothing in common between you. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 19 Lizzie (putting her hands over her ears and crossing to well stoop). Oh, don't say that. I cannot bear to say anything that even sounds like criticism. They have been so kind, so good to me and to Teddy. {Sits dozvn on the bench in front of well. Mark follows.) You see, my dear father died about six years ago and we were left two help- less little girls, orphans, poor and all alone in the world. Then Uncle Reuben came and took us to his home and heart. We had no claim upon him. He was only father's second cousin, but he has treated us as his own children. So when I say I have been lonely it sounds so ungrateful. Mark {leaning over her). No, not ungrateful. You and they are of different mold. What do they see in a field of waving timothy that ripples and changes color in the wind like ocean waves, save a crop of hay — "A primrose by the river's brim, A simple primrose was to him, And it was nothing more." Would they care to read Tennyson or Longfellow? These country people buy my books because they want something in their book cases and on the shelves, but they seldom open them. Now you — you are superior. I recognized in you a kindred spirit. Lizzie. Oh, do you, too, feel that I am different ? I have gone to my little school day after day, and when the tasks were over and the school dismissed I have laid my head upon the desk and cried. I have felt like a bird in a cage, with such a longing to get away from here — to go out into the great world. But you do not care to know how I feel. Mark {tenderly). Poor little girl. And would you go away with me? Lizzie {lifting her head. Softly). I do not understand you — you cannot mean — {rising slowly). Mark {catching both her hands in his). I do mean that I want you to be mine — all mine. The air is full of the sweetness of springtime and love today and the apple and cherry trees are in a glory of bloom. The very birds in the trees help me to sing these words to you — Lizzie, I love vou. {Puts his anus about her and draws her up to him.) 20 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Lizzie. And you want me to be your wife. Oh, Mark, I cannot believe it. Mark. Do you love me? Lizzie. With all my soul. Oh, Mark, I am so happy. It seems as though I must go and tell them all my new found joy. Mark. Hush, dear girl. Not yet. I do not wish you to say anything of it now. Lizzie {drazving a little from hmi). But why? They will be so glad. Mark. Because I do not wish to tell them my plans just yet. They would not understand and it is sweeter after all, dear, is it not, to keep our new happiness to ourselves? Lizzie. It shall be as you wish, dear. Oh, Mark, it is all so strange and sweet. That you should come and that you with your superior education should care for me. When you read aloud to me under the trees a world of beautiful thoughts opened up to me, and now to feel that I am to walk through life by your side — oh, I cannot be- lieve it ; it seems too good to be true. Mark. And will you go anywhere with me, sacrifice anything for me? Lizzie (with her arm about his neck). Anything, every- thing, dear one. I will go to the world's end if you but ask me. Mark (holding her close). My darling. Martha (calling from the house). Supper. Mark. Sh — there comes someone. (They fall apart.) Martha appears on the veranda. Martha (calling). Supper. (She sees Mark.) Why, Mr. Hay ward. (She steps down from porch and shakes hands.) I am glad to see ye. Come right in and have some supper. Mark. Thank you. I do not like to impose upon you. Martha. Impose. Lands sakes, there's always enough and to spare. Come right in. Lizzie. We want you to stay so much. Mark. Really, this is a combination I cannot resist — THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 21 two such charming invitations with the good things Aunt Martha makes waiting inside to tempt the appetite. Martha. That's right ; go right inside. I wonder where them men folks is. (Mark and Lizzie go into the house. Martha goes to gate. Calling.) Teddy! Where is Ted? (Voice heard in the distance, singing gaily.) There she comes a kitin'. {Sound of horses hoofs.) I declare that gal's as wild as a young deer. (Teddy comes dashing up, noise behind scenes as of horses' hoofs.) Enter Jake, R. Exit through gate. Enter Teddy, L. Teddy {calling to Jake). There, Jake, take pretty good care of her because she is mighty warm. Hello, Aunty Mart. {Runs through the gate and grabs Martha around the waist and whirls her around.) Martha {trying to keep her balance). Lands sakes, gal, ain't you never a-goin' to get tame and settle down? Teddy. Hope not. People never settle down until they get married, and I pray heaven I may never get married. Martha. Why, how heathenish you talk. It's every woman's province to git married. Teddy {saucily). Indeed, Aunty. Well, how about Sap- phira Scriggins? Martha. Well, of course there do be some old maids, but you wan't never cut out for one — not a fly-away like you with a pretty face. Men. ain't got much sense an' them's the kind they pick. Teddy {runs to Martha and takes her face betzveen her hands). Oh, ho; so that's the kind you were, because Uncle Reuben picked you. Martha. Well, I wan't bad lookin' when I was young. {Goes up stage to gate.) But my sakes, I'll forgit about supper. I don't see what keeps Reuben and Tom and Jake. You tell 'em to hurry up. We're goin' to eat bekase Mr. Hayward's here and I want him to have the biscuits be- fore they're cold. Teddy {zvith a sniff). Oh, I'm sorry he's here. Martha. Wliy, Teddy! How unhospitable I 22 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Teddy. Well, I am sorry. So there. But I'll call Uncle. (Martha goes into the house and Teddy runs to gate and calls.) Uncle! Oh, Uncle! Jake comes out from R. entrance to gate, pushing some milk cans in a little hand cart. Teddy holds gate open. Teddy. Where are Uncle and Tom, Jake? Jake. They seem to be kind of arguin'. {Puts milk cans on well stoop in a sort of trough and drazvs up a pail of water. Stands zvith one hand on the bucket.) Teddy. Well, supper's ready. (Starts toward house.) Jake. Say, Ted, wait a minute. Teddy {stops). Well, what is it? Jake. I don't often have a chance to see you alone. Won't you come here? Teddy {twirling her sunbonnet saucily). Come there. What for? Jake {bashfully, twisting his hat between his hands). I don't know as I kin tell you what for all at once. You laughed at me when I told you twice before. Teddy {co'ming toward him). Laughed. W^hy, the idea! {Bursts into a merry laugh.) Jake. Well, you won't take me serious, and you know I like you bettern'n any gal I ever see. Won't you give me a kiss, Teddy? (Teddy gives a stare of amazement, then recovers herself zvith a flash.) Teddy. So you want me to give you a kiss. Well, sit right down here. (Jake siis on the zvell stoop or on bench in front of well.) Now shut your eyes. (Jake closes his eyes and Teddy empties the bucket of zvater over his head. He springs up dripping and she runs toward the house, singing merrily.) The old oaken bucket, The iron bound bucket, The moss covered bucket That hangs in the well. {Exit Teddy into the house.) Enter Reuben and Tom. They come through gate. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 23 Reuben (laughing). Hello! What's this? Why, Jake, what have you been doin' — takin' a bath with your clothes on? Jake {spluttering). It's that Ted. I'll g-g-git even with her — yit. Tom. What have you bin doin' — quarrelin'? Jake. No, we wuzn't. I was jest tryin' to tell her how much I thought of her. Reuben {zvith a laugh). An' you found out what she thought of you, eh? {Exit Jake, muttering, into house L. Reuben goes to basin and zvashes. Tom leans against a post of the veranda.) Martha (eonies to door). Fur land sakes, do come in to supper. It's gettin' cold as a stone. Mr. Hayward's here an' I made him an' Lizzie set down. (Martha goes into the house. Tom turns away.) Reuben. Come, Tom. Tom (going through gate). I don't want no supper. (Esit Tom L.) Reuben looks after him, sighs and starts into the house, encounters Lizzie in the door, followed by Mark. 'Lizzie. Why, Uncle, dear, how late you are. We have finished our supper. Mark. Good evening Mr. Hardacre. Reuben {who speaks rather coldly). Howdy {and goes into the house). Lizzie. We are going to sit out here where it is cool. (Lizzie goes to the well stoop. Mark follozvs.) Mark. Oh, Lizzie, my darling, it is such a relief to have you all to myself. Lizzie {smiling and speaking softly). And to think you have chosen me to be your wife — me above the rest. Mark {taking her in his arms). To think you are to be mine — all mine — and do you really love me, little girl? Lizzie. Oh, Mark, I never dreamed I could be so happy. Enter Tom L. back of gate, who comes tozvard the gate but halts and stands in the shadow a uwment. 24 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Mark. My dearest one. (Takes her in his arms and kisses her. Tom turns back, unperceived by Mark and Lizzie.) I must go now as I have many duties calling me. Lizzie. Oh, must you go? Let me call Aunt Martha. She will wish to say goodbye. Mark. No, darling, I want your face to be the last one I see as I turn from the house. Goodbye, sweetheart. (They part at the gate.) Teddy [calling from within). Lizzie! (Lizzie gives her hand to Mark, then moves tozvard the house, stands on the porch, zvaves a kiss and goes into the house. Mark goes through the gate. Tom comes from the shadow and stands in his zvay.) Tom. Mr. Hay ward, I want a word with ye. Mark. Oh, it's you, Mr. Hardacre. You quite startled me at first. Is there anything wrong? Tom. There may be and there may'n't. It depends on yourself. Mark. I'm afraid your words are enigmatical, Mr. Hardacre. Tom. Long words ain't to my likin' nor my under- standin', sir. Mine are short and the meanin 'is clear. If your attentions are right and honest, well and good. If they ain't, you have a stronger arm than a girl's to deal with. Just remember my words; that's all. (Exit Tom into the house. Mark stands still a moment near the gate.) Mark (soliloquizing and looking after Tom zvith a .meer.) So you're in love with her, too. Well, she's mine, not yours, and never will be. Enter Arthur Ames zvith bicycle and with a sketching outfit under his arm. 'Arthur (leaning bicycle against post of gate). Hello, there's an old well. I wonder if I can get both a drink and permission to sketch. (Starts, seeing Mark, zvho has turned tozvard him and looks at him again. Arthur comes through the gate.) By all the fiends, Mark Hayward, as I'm alive! What devils work are you up to now? Mark. You have the advantage of me, I'm afraid, sir. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 25 Arthur. Yes, in a great many ways. I try to be a man, while you are a scoundrel. Mark (clenching his fist). Sir, you shall answer for this. Arthur (zvith a shrug). I am not at all alarmed. But I haven't forgotten the summer I sketched around Wood- land and the pretty little girl with the blonde hair whose life you wrecked. God knows where the poor creature is now. There's a pretty woman here I'll be bound and I'll make it my business to see. Mark {changing his tone to a conciliatory one). When a man's trying to repair a wrong, to do what is right and live the best he can, would you push him down? Arthur. No, I wouldn't; but I don't trust you, Mark. Well, I am going away in a day or two and I ask you to let me go in peace. Say nothing to these good people. They have been very kind to me. Arthur (interrupting). Go tonight and I'll hold my tongue. Mark. Tonight ! Arthur. Yes, tonight. It's the only condition. Mark (hesitating a moment). I agree. Give me your word of honor. Arthur (proudly). My word, sir, is a word of honor. I need say no more. (Mark gires him a black Vook and walks through gate and exits, L.). Somehow I do not be- lieve in his reform. I'm quite sure there's a pretty girl around somewhere. Ah, here she comes. Teddy (comes tripping out of the house with a water pitcher, singing-.) The old oaken bucket, The iron bound bucket — (Stops, seeing Arthur.) Arthur (lifting his hat). Pardon me, may I have a drink of water. The old well looks inviting and — Hebe, may I say, very charming? Teddy (aside). Oh, isn't he handsome? (Aloud.) You 26 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. may have a drink if you wish ; but my name isn't Hebe ; it's Emily, but everyone calls me Teddy — Lawrence. Athur (lifting his hat again). And mine is Arthur Ames. I have been sketching around the country and I saw your old well, which is a refreshing sight these days. Let me draw the water for you. (As Teddy starts toward tJie zvell. He lowers the bucket.) Teddy. Yes, Uncle Reuben has a windmill, but he says the water is sweeter from this old-fashioned well. Arthur (drazving up the bucket). He is right. Let me fill your pitcher. Allow me. (Offers her a dipper of zvater.) She drinks and starts to throzv azvay the zvater. Arthur hastily takes the dipper.) Don't throw it away, please. (Drinks.) I have never tasted water with so delicious a flavor. Teddy. If you are going to be in this neighborhood you may have all you like. Arthur. May I ? I am going to stay around here for months. Teddy. Where are you stopping? Arthur. Here — that is — I mean — of course I mean — I — have just arrived here, but I intend to stay quite a while. The — eh — the country is so charming. Your uncle wouldn't object, do you think, to my sketching this old well. Teddy. Oh, no. I'm sure he would be pleased to have you take an interest in the old well. Will it take you long? Arthur. A good many days, probably. You see I should like it from several points. Teddy. Here comes Uncle Reuben now. Reuben enters from the house. Teddy. Uncle, here is Mr. — Mr. — Arthur. Ames. Teddy. Mr. Ames, who wants to draw a picture of the old well. . Reuben (shaking hands). Howdy. Why, bless your heart, draw all the pictures you want, sir. I'd like one myself — with Ted there drawing up the water. Teddy. Oh, Uncle! THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 27 Arthur. The very thing. Will you let me sketch you? Teddy {coyly). Maybe — sometimes. Reuben. I'll show you the old log cabin over there — our fust home. I'd like a picture of that, too. Arthur. Yes, do. Teddy {going to Reuben). Uncle, I'll take him to see the cabin if you want to smoke. It's right near the main road and he has to take that way back. I don't mind the walk and I expect 3 on're tired. Reuben {zvinking). Gettin' quite considerate, ain't you? Well, go ahead and I'll have a smoke. {Exit Teddy and Arthur, C. through gate. Twilight is gradually set- tling oz'er the farm and night is falling. Reuben, lighting his pipe.) Fly-away little piece Miss Teddy. S'pose she don't think I kin see through that sort of doin's. I'm afeerd she'll never make the woman that Lizzie is. Martha conies to the door of house, zviping her hands on a gingham apron. Martha. What air you doin', Reuben? Reuben. Takin' a little smoke. Where's Lizzie? Martha. She's just finished washin' dishes. Reuben. Ask her to come here a minute, will ye? Martha {exits into the house and after she is inside ]i£r voice is heard calling). Lizzie. Lizzie enters through the door of house. Lizzie. You want me. Uncle? Reuben. Yes, come here, lamb. {He sits on the zvell stoop and she comes and sits beside him and puts her head against his arm.) I don't suppose you ever will know what a store I've sot by you, Lizzie. Lizzie. Dear, dear Uncle. You've been so good to Teddy and me — as a father should be — and — and I want you to believe always that I love you with all my heart and am very, very grateful to you. Reuben {patting her zvith his big rough hand). Why, my sweet pet, don't you know that you've brought enough joy an' sunshine to us to fill a whole big hayloft — 28 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. aye, an' twenty of 'em. An' Lizzie, dear little gal, ef you only understood what the wish of my life was — to see you Tom's wife. {He pauses, looking at her with a wistful, uncertain expression upon his face.) Lizzie (aside). Oh, if I could only tell him. (Aloud.) Let us not talk of that just yet, dear Uncle. Only promise me that you will believe always that I love you^ and am very, very grateful for your goodness to me. Reuben. Why, bless the child, of course I'll promise. (The old man takes the fresh young face hetzveen his hands and kisses the red lips.) Martha (calling from inside the house). Reuben! Reuben ! Come help me move this chist. Reuben. Martha's movin' somethin' again. (Rises and zvalks tozvard the house.) I wonder if a woman ever gits the things in a house moved around to her satisfaction? (Knocks his pipe on the post and go'cs in.) Lizzie. Dear, dear Uncle, how good he has been to me. If I only could do as he desires. But I can't. A new joy has come to me — a joy of which I never dreamed. Only God in heaven knows how happy I am. Mark comes up to the gate. Mark (in a lozv voice). Lizzie! Lizzie (zvith a start). Mark! {Runs to the gate with a glad little cry.) Mark (coming just inside the gate). Hush, 'Lizzie, my darling. (Takes her in his arms.) I have only a moment to be with you. Circumstances have arisen that make it necessary for me to go from here at once. Lizzie. Oh, no, no, no ! You must not leave me, Mark ! Mark. I am not going to leave you. I want you to come with me. Lizzie. When ? Mark. Tonight. Lizzie. Oh, I cannot go tonight. These dear people (pointing to the Jiouse). Mark. My darling, did you not say you would follow me to the end of the earth? Where are your promises now^ THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 29 Lizzie. I will, I will, dear Mark! But I must tell them. Mark. |No, you cannot. You must go without a word. Lizzie. But why? Mark. I cannot tell you now. Do you not trust me? Lizzie. Yes, yes. But I cannot be so ungrateful. They have sheltered me — taken care of me. I cannot forget them. Mark. Choose between us. Lizzie. Oh, Mark, you make it so hard for me. Mark. If you remain here we part forever. If you go with me you must go tonight. Lizzie (stands hesitatingly a moment). Mark, I will go with you. Mark {taking her in his arms). My darling, meet me at the old log cabin at midnight. Say nothing to anyone. Until then farewell. (Kisses her and turns away. She stands a moment and looks after him, then turns to the well stoop and sits dotvn.) Lizzie. Oh, Uncle, forgive me. (Covers her face with her hands.) Curtain. Act II. Scene: Interior of the Hardacre farm house. Early morn- ing. Door R. and L. leading outside. Cook stove at L.zvith hooks hack of same for holding pans. Window at C. zvith white curtains, calico valence at top. Bench with wash basin, roller tozvel above, at L. of zvindozv, with ruffled cal- ico cover. Table at R. of stage. Cupboard containing china near table. Five straight-backed wooden chairs around table. A large rocker or 4wo with crocheted tidies on the backs, at L. Rag carpet or rug on the floor. One or tzvo cheap pictures on the zvalls. Shelf on the wall, decorated with a fringed lambrequin and a pair of painted glass vases and a clock (optional). Hooks for coats, etc. Small mirror on the wall. If not convenient to have a stove on 30 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. the stage, have it appear to he off L. or behind a screen at the L. side of stage. Enter Jake, R., yawning at every step. Enter Arthur from L. zvith sketching outfit. Jake {looking at him in astonishment). Say, did you stay up all night? Arthur {laughing and seating himself in a rocker). Oh, no. I wanted to make some sketches- of .-the old log house early in the morning. Mr. Hardacr^ very kindly invited me to remain here last night, so I did not want to miss the opportunity. Jake {sitting doivn and pulling on hoots as he talks). Well, I dunno, but it seems to me anybody that gets up early what don't have to is a kind of a tarnal fool. Arthur {howing). You are very complimentary. So you do not believe in hunting for the early worm? Jake {yawning) . No, I leave that to the chickens. You kin bet I wouldn't git up if I didn't have to. Arthur. Why, this is the most beautiful time of the day. The air is so sweet and pure, the grass sparkles with dew and the birds sing their very sweetest Carols in the morning, and did you ever hear the old song {sings) : The birds were singing in every tree At five o'clock in the morning. Jake. I don't have no time to hear the birds singin'. I have to help milk the cows and do the chores. Say, how do you make them picters {pointing to his folio) — with a cameo? {Gets up and zvalks toward Arthur zvith diffi- culty, as his hoots are too tight.) Arthur {looking mystified). Cameo? Oh, you mean a camera. No, I sketch them with a pencil. {Opens folio and hands pictures to Jake.) Jake. Well, I vum ; there's the old cabin just as nateral. {Taking another.) And there's the old well. {A picture falls to the floor and Jake picks it up, looks at it, then looks at Arthur, then at the picture again.) Well, I'll be darned if that don't look just like Ted. When did she get that took? THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 31 Arthur (catching it hastily, rises and crosses to table). That's a little fancy sketch I made this morning of no- body in particular. (Sits down near table.) Jake {laying Jiis finger on one side of Jiis nose). Maybe I ain't sich a fool as I look. Say, stranger, if you're stayin' round here fur any reason except to make picters, 'twon't do you no good. All you'll git is a bucket of water for your pains. (Goes to stove and starts to build the fire, putting paper and kindling into the stove.) Enter Martha, R. Martha. Sakes alive, Jake, ain't you made that fire yit? Excuse me sir. (Coming to Arthur.) But Jake's so everlastin' lazy. Jake (putting zvood into the stove). Lazy! I'm working from mornin' till night. (Strikes a match and lights pa- per and then sJiuffles slozvly out, L. Martha puts on the frying pan and begins to get breakfast.) Martha. I believe Jake is about the laziest critter I ever see. Now Tom and Reuben's been up over an hour milkin' an' putterin' round. You're up pretty early for a city man, ain't you? (Breaks egg into pan, uses salt, pep- per, etc., and puts on the coffe(^ pot as she talks.) Arthur (looks over 'his sketches as Martha talks). Oh, I'm an early riser, especially when in the country. Why, those who lie in bed so late in the morning do not know how much of Nature's beauty they miss. Martha. Bless your heart, I don't have time to think of the beauty of Nater. I'm busy. We spoil the girls, too, I'm afeard. But Lizzie has her school, so I don't call her till most breakfast time, and Teddy's another one of your lazy ones. (Crosses to table and puts on red tablecloth zvhich she takes from cupboard.) Hates to get up worse than anything you ever see. Arthur (in astonishment). Hates to get up! Why, I thought she delighted in early rising? Teddy opens the door L. from outside and enters with her arms full of flowers. 32 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Martha. For the land sakes, Teddy child, where did you come from? Teddy. From the meadow. Fve been gathering flowers for the breakfast table. {Runs to get vase from shelf and fills it zvith flowers.) Martha. Well, how on earth did you happen to get up so early? Teddy. Get up so early? Why, this is the loveliest time of the day. Martha. Humph! It's queer you've been so long dis- kiverin' it. I'll let you set the table while I go on with the breakfast. (Goes to the stove. Teddy removes the plain zvhite china Martha has placed about, takes off the red table cloth and puts on a white one, then gets the best blue china out of the cupboard. Arthur assists her.) Reuben and Tom enter L. Reuben {to Tom). I think I'll set Jake to cultivatin' in the west field today. The rain lately has made them weeds take a new stapt. {Takes off his hat and hangs it on a nail. Tom walks over to the basin on a stand and washes his hands and combs his hair. Reuben starts after him but stops, seeing Teddy.) Well, bless my soul, what are you doin' up, flutter-budget? Teddy. I'm setting the table. Reuben. So I see. But what got you out of bed this time of the morning? Teddy (pouting). You talk as though I were the laziest mortal alive. I'm not Jake. Arthur (coming to the rescue). I am sure Miss Law- rence is not lazy. I am afraid you are rather disposed to be hard upon her. Reuben (chucking her under the chin). Miss Lawrence. How's that, Ted. Makes you feel important, eh? We'll have you struttin' round like that little white bantay out there. But we ain't hard on her, sir. Lord bless you, she's like a bit of sunshine. We wouldn't know how to live without her and Lizzie. (Martha comes to the table with a dish which she almost drops.) THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 33 Martha. Land sakes alive! What's got into the girl? Why, she's put on our best blue chiny set fur breakfast! Reuben. That's so. Must be something special. (Nudges Martha, points to Arthur and chuckles and zvinks.) Arthur (picking iip one of the plates). It is a very ])eautiful old china — willow ware, isn't it? (Turns it over and looks at the mark.) Yes, I'm sure it must be an heir- loom, Mrs. Hardacre. If it were possible to improve them, your biscuits and other good things will taste better than ever off of these pretty dishes. Tom (patting his mother on the back). There, now, mother; that ought to satisfy you. By the way, father, I'll take Lizzie over to school this morning. I've got to drive to town. Enter Jake, L., zvith an armful of wood zuhich he throws into the box with a bang. Martha (bringing the coffee pot). Come on, now; set down ; breakfast's ready. (Reuben drazvs a chair to the table, the others get chairs and sit dozen to breakfast. The table scene is prolonged some seconds. Reuben faces audience, Arthur to his right, Teddy next to Arthur and Martha ne.vt. Tom sits to the left of his father and Jake next to Tom in full i'iezv of the audience. Jake plies his knife vigorously, drinks coffee out of a saucer, zvipes up plate zvith a piece of bread, etc. During this business Martha. /ia>y gone to the stove twice for biscuits, etc., but all arc seated and quiet before Reuben's' follozving speech. Snatches of laughter and conversation are heard, such as, "Did you put thent hogs in the pen, Jake?" ''Have some coffee," "Give me one of them biscuits," etc.) Reuben (aloud). By the way, where is 'Lizzie. She's late this morning. Martha (goes to door R. and calls). Lizzie! Lizzie! Teddy (rising from the table). I didn't go into her room this morning as I didn't want to disturb her, but I'll run upstairs and call her now. (Teddy exits R.) Reuben (reaching zvith his fork for a potato). Ain't it 34 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. queer how there's ahvays room fur one more at your table but never room fur one less? Now you know, Mr. Ames, this here table seems kinder empty without Lizzie. (A cry is heard from R. off stage. All start, half rising in their seats. Teddy comes running in with a letter in her hand.) Teddy {with a zvild frightened look). Oh, Uncle Reu- ben, something has happened. Lizzie is not in her room and her bed has not been slept in. Oh, I don't know what to make of it! Martha (takes the letter from Teddy^s hands zvith trembling fingers. Reading). It's addressed to you, Reu- ben — take it. I'm all of a tremble. (Reuben takes the letter and opens it slozvly like one dazed. Looks at it a moment and then hands it to Tom.) Reuben. You'd better read it, Tom. I can't. Somehow my old eyes are blurred. {t)rops into seat.) Tom (shakes his head and leans his elbozu on the table, covering his face zvith his hand). I can't read it. I haven't "got the courage, father. (Tom hands the letter to Teddy.) Teddy (reading the letter). "Oh, I pray you to forgive me. I know how wicked and ungrateful I must seem to you — all of you dear ones — but I cannot thrust aside my life's happiness. I am not fitted to be the wife of a farmer. I am too dreamy and unpractical and restless. Tom will find someone who will make him a better wife than I and he will soon forget me. (Tom rises and zcalks to zvindozv and rests Jiis head against his arm, standing zvith his back to the audience. Teddy reading.) Do not believe any harm of Mark. I love him with all my soul. We are to be mar- ried at once." Reuben. Stop, Teddy. Lizzie — Lizzie's gone — run away. Yes — yes — go on, Teddy. Teddy (reading). *'I cannot understand why I have been chosen to this great joy — I, a simple country girl. I am going to travel about with Mark and am to help him in his work. And oh, I pray God I may prove to be to him a true helpmeet. Sometime we may come to you again. But oh, I want you to believe always that I love you all and t\ wk you many times for the kindness and love you gave THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 35 to the helpless girls entrusted to your care. Give my dear- est love to darling Ted and ask her to forgive me for; leaving her. God bless and keep you each and everyone." (Teddy, crying and falling into her chair.) Oh, Lizzie — Lizzie, my sister — how could you leave me? (Martha takes her in her arms. A knock at the door is heard. All start.) Enter Sapphira, L., with a pan in her hand. Sapphira. Good mornin', everybody. I'm a little early callin', but I come to borrow a little flour an' some raisins and dried currants and cinnamon. I have to make a cake and I didn't want to drive to town. Yes, and the preservin' kittle. What on airth's the matter with everybody? Martha (takes up her apron and begins to cry afresh). I suppose you'll know sooner or later. Lizzie's run away. Sapphira. Runaway! Land sakes ! With the bookman? I just 'spected that would happen. Well, I s'pose we must say, ''He doeth all things well, Marthy." (Pulls chair from the table and sits dozvn facing audience.) Of course, I 'low it looks sorter queer — runnin 'away like there was suthin' to hide that folks was ashamed on, but then there's no accountin' fur tastes, an' I shudder to think but fur my strength of character I might have been drawed away instid of Lizzie. Wonderful is the ways of Providence! Makes me think, Marthy, of the time my cousin Betsey Ann run away with the postmaster. A terrible thunder- storm came up as they was ridin 'along an' struck the rig, knocking the postmaster clean to the ground. Well, they druv along to town and when they got to the minister's an' Betsey Ann see her lover in the light, she shrieked out she wouldn't marry no man with blue streaks on his face, an' sure 'nuff the postmaster had zigzag streaks runnin' up an' down his face fur all the world like forked lightnin'. An' Betsey Ann come back home an' ain't never married to this day. But goin' back to Lizzie. Jest cheer up. Lizzie's a good girl — I hope. A little flighty, but there wasn't really no harm about her. I hope she's done well, I'm sure. (With a sigh which implies Sapphira has her 36 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. doubts. Rising and stepping tozvard the table.) Air you .quite sure he'll marry her? Teddy (zvith flashing eyes and a stamp of her foot). How dare yoii intimate anything against my sister? Reuben {rising, strikes the table with his fist). Sap- phira Scriggins, I've been a God-fearing man. I don't owe no man a cent and as fur as I know I ain't never abused nobody and there ain't nobody goin 'to say a word agin me or mine without gittin' acquainted with the way through the front door and that mighty darn quick. {Starts tozvard the door and Tom puts hand on him to detain him.) Sapphira {hastily, and rising as Reuben talks). Now, Reuben, Reuben, don't you git so wrathy. You know I wouldn't say nothin' agin none of your folks for the world. By the way, Marthy, could you git me them raisins and currants and the flour and preservin kittle? (Martha goes to cupboard, gets the articles. Sapphira follozvs.) Reuben. Tom, I ain't had many dreams in my life, but this was one to see you an' Lizzie married with your children runnin' about the old place; but I guess it wasn't to be. Tom. Don't, father. 'Tain't no use talkin' about that now. I told you once Lizzie had a right to choose between us. She's happier than she's ever been here with us, she says, and there ain't nuthin' fur me to do but forget. {Pauses a moment.) But father (picks up his hat), I'm going to find Mark Hay ward. If he's fooled her he'll answer for it with his life. (Tom goes and shuts the door. Teddy sobs on Martha's breast.) Sapphira {sighs deeply and zvipes her eyes.) I am sorry I happened in on ye this mornin'. Thanks fur the things. Marthy. I say agin, I hope everything will be all right. Poor, weak women. W'e're all in danger. Goodbye. {Exits L. as curtain falls.) Curtain. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 37 Act III. Scene: Same as Act II. A winter evening nearly two years later. Teddy seated at table sewing. A pitcher of zvater, glasses and a dish of apples and lamp are on the table. Jake sits up to the table with his paper. Jake (reading in a loud tone from paper). ''Laketown is to have a new depot and two new stores. Who says we are not becoming met-ro-pol-i-tan ? Hurrah for Laketown!" Gee whiz, that's a long word. Guess I'll have to go to see them stores. {Reading in a loud tone.) "Mrs. Silas Bron- son presented Mr. Silas Bronson with a fine ten-pound boy last Monday and every woman in town stopped wash- ing to talk it over." (He speaks.) Now, that Bronson will be so sot up you can't tech him with a forty-foot pole. He ain't so much, either. (Reading in a loud tone.) "Miry Jones was in town last week and bought a new spring hat and some pink lawn for a dress. Look out for Cupid's darts, boys, when Miry gets on that combination." (He speaks.) Miry ain't a bad looking gal, either. (Reading in a loud tone.) "A-pro-pos of the growth of Laketown, Ezry Babb has had to get an assistant at the post office. Too bad, Ezry. You won't have time to read the postal cards. Lest this insinuation be sufficient cause for libel, the editor wishes distinctly to label this as a joke." (Jake scratching his head.) I don't see no sense in that. Ezry alius reads the postal cards, bekase I've read 'em myself when I've been settin' there with him. (He lays down the paper.) I never see a gal so changed as you be, Ted. Don't take no interest in anything no more. ' Alius quiet — readin' or sewin'. You don't even ride hossback like you used to, flyin' like the wind. You just set straight and go along sober-like as a preacher. (Teddy drops her head down upon the table and begins to cry softly. Jake in as- tonishment) Did I hurt your feelings? (Gets up clumsily and goes round back of her chair.) You know I wouldn't do that fur nothin' in the world — I vum I like you, Ted. (Reaches out for zvater pitcher carefully and 38 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. puts it out of Teddy's reach on the farther side of the table as he talks.) Better'n any gal I ever see. If we could git hooked up you wouldn't feel so kind of lonesome like. (Teddy neither replies nor raises her head.) It can't be you like nobody better'n me, Ted, 'cause you never let none of the other fellows come to see you, an' I ain't a bad lookin' feller when I'm dressed up. Here's a item I didn't like to read to you, Ted, because it sounded kind of proud like to me. But I will now. {Sits dozvn again and reads from paper.) *'Jake Tompkins was in town Sunday in a new suit of store clothes, a boiled shirt and a new derby hat. Jake must be in love." (He grins and chuckles. Reading on again.) ''Well, go it, Jake. We wish you luck. There isn't a better looking chap in town than you are when you are in full reg-reg-regalia." (He speaks.) Fm darned if I know what that means. (Teddy does not lift her Jicad.) Of course I know I wouldn't stand no show if that artist feller had stayed around here, but he ain't never been back since Uncle Reuben told him he'd better go. Teddy (lifts her head). Don't, please don't say any more, Jake. I can't bear it. (Rises and walks about the room.) Jake. Why, Ted, you ain't meanin 'to say you keer fur that feller. Why, you ain't seen him fur purty nigh two years. Well, I vum, gals is queer critters. You ain't seen him more'n two or three times in your life and you've summered and wintered with me fur over four years, and you keer more fur him than fur me. I'll go and propose to Miry Jones the fust time I see her. Teddy. Yes, yes ; go propose to Miry Jones. I'm sure she'll be pleased. (Goes to the zvindozu and looks out. The zvind blozi's and the snow flies past the zuindozv.) My how it storms. Jake. Oh, she'll be tickled to death. Miry sets a store by me, but I thought I'd give you the fust chance. Teddy (still at the zvindozv). Put some more wood in the stove, Jake. Uncle Reuben and Tom will be wet and cold when they get back from town. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 39 Jake (rising). Well, you've lost your chanct, Ted, 'cause I ain't never goin' to say no more to you 'bout hook'in up to me. Teddy (turning from the zvindozv zvearily). Thank you so much, Jake. (Goes to chair near the table and sits dozvn, resting her elbozvs on the table and her head on her hand. Jake shuffles to zvood box.) Jake. That tarnal box is empty again. I never can keep it full. (Gets cap and comforter from hook near the door, puts hand on the knob and turns tozjuard Teddy.) You don't want to take a little time to think about it, Ted, do you? (Teddy shakes her head Jake puts on cap and zvinds comforter about his neck as he talks.) Well, I hate to see you losing a good thing, Ted. (Heaves a deep sigh and goes out L., closing the door after him.) Teddy (zvith a sigh). Poor fellow. I suppose he does think I'm rather hard-hearted; but I'm not — only heavy- hearted, that's all — and oh, so lonely — since Lizzie went away. Oh, Lizzie, my sister! Why haven't 3^ou written to us ? Where are you ? What are you doing ? Are you happy ? And Tom — poor Tom. How changed he is. He was gone just one week, and when he came back he could say noth- ing except that she was married and happy. He has never mentioned her name since then. But she might have given me — her only sister — a little thought. Ah, me! Everything is so different now. The old place seems like a tomb. But what am I doing? (Gets up and zvalks about the room.) Making myself miserable, not only over Lizzie, but over a man who does not even care for me. I'm not as philo- sophical as Jake — I can't be satisfied with somebody else. (A step is heard outside.) There's Jake now with the wood. (She sits dozvn at the table again.) The door opens and Arthur comes in zi'earing a heavy ulster zvith the collar turned up. Shakes the snozu from his coat. Arthur. Teddy — Miss Lawrence. (She springs from her chair.) 40 THE OLD OAKEX BUCKET. Teddy. Mr. Ames, where did you come from? W'hat are you doing here? Arthur. Where did I come from? Across the water from the other side of the world. And what am I doing here? I came for a sight of the old well with the girl standing by it with the sunlight in her hair. I did not even knock. Somehow I felt 3'OU were here just as I had left you. Teddy [hmightily). Indeed. Haven't you an odd way of doing things, Mr. Ames? The old well is outside if you care to look at it. I can't go out and stand by it now, even to please you. It is a little too stormy. Arthur {coming to her and taking hold, of her hands). Ah, Teddy — Ted, dearest, you know — you must know what I mean. I love you better than anything in all the wide world. Teddy (half drawing azvay). You love me? Why, you have never told me. You have never even written. Arthur. I know, but let me explain. You know I came several times to the house when I was here two years ago, and your uncle told me I must not come again. He wouldn't have any more trouble, he said. I could not ofifer myself to you then — I, a poor, struggling artist, and so I went away. I did not write because I could not write without telling you my love, and I had not even a home to ofifer you. So I went abroad and struggled and worked for months without recognition. Then I painted a picture of a girl standing by an old well — a girl with eyes like twin stars and hair like spun gold. I called it "The Old Oaken Bucket." I sent it to the exhibition with fear and trem- bling. It was accepted and hung and my future was as- sured. Why, Teddy, my darling. -(He takes her in his arms.) You haven't been from my thoughts a moment. But, Teddy dearest, I haven't asked you if you loved me — if you would be my wife. Teddy (drazving away a moment, then turns toward him). Love you! Oh, Arthur, how can I help it? (Reaches out her hands to him and he catches them in Jiis and kisses her.) Martha enters from R. zvith lamp in one hand and a THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 41 stocking, partly finished zvith knitting needles thrust through it in the other. Teddy and Arthur have retired to a corner. Martha. It does beat all where that ball of gray yarn is. I've searched the hull blamed place for it. I really don't believe I've got good common sense sometimes. I am always hiding things from myself — tuckin' them away in the most outlandish places. {Walks to the table and sets dozvn lamp without discovering the couple zvho. are so wrapped up in each other they do not notice her. She sud- denly discovers them and drops her knitting zvith a gasp.) Teddy Lawrence, what on airth are you a-doin'? Teddy {gives a start, then runs to her). Oh, Aunt Martha, I'm so happy! This is Arthur — Mr. Ames. {He comes forzvard and reaches out his hand, but she adjusts her spectacles and looks at him severely.) Martha. And who might you be, young man? Arthur. Don't you remember me, Mrs. Hardacre? I have never forgotten you nor your delicious cakes and biscuits. Martha. Well, of all things! {Shaking his hand vigor- ously.) How did you git here? Arthur. I got a hitch, as the boys say. Found a man with a sleigh coming this way and he kindly took me in as far as the -corner. Martha. Well, I ain't got it straightened out yit how you and Teddy come to git in such familiar attitudes as I see just now. Arthur. Why, I came to ask her to be my wife and she has consented. Martha. Humph! I should think so. Must have jumped at the chance. Gals didn't act that way when I was young. I never even kissed Reuben till after I was married. Well, times is changed. {''Whoa!" is heard from outside and the sound of sleigh bells.) Here comes Reuben and Tom. Where's Jake? Teddy. Oh, he went for wood. I don't know what keeps him. But then we really haven't missed him. (Teddy and Arthur retire to a corner.) 42 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Enter Reuben from L., zvho comes stamping into the kitchen with his heavy rubber boots, unwinding a red woolen scarf from his neck. Reuben. Mother Gary's chickens has growed the size of hen's eggs by the looks of the feathers, Marthy. It's still snowin' an' 'pears like it don't know when to quit. Martha {putting a stick of wood into the- stove) . Well, don't bring no more of them feathers in on my clean kitchen floor than ye can help. Reuben {sitting down and drazving off Jiis boots). Big- gest fall of snow I've see in years. Reminds me of the snowfall Sapphiry tells about when she was a gal (got a good memory, that woman), when her folks was snowed up from Christmas time to Spring time' an' she was so scared that she laid in a trance all that time an' only woke up when the robins begun to sing. {Takes Jiis chair and goes to stove and puts his feet into the oven, lights his pipe.) Martha {sitting down near him). That woman do beat everything I ever see. Speakin' of robins makes me think of what she told me last Sunday after meetin'. You'd think she'd respect the house of God anyway, but seems like she can't help lyin' nohow when the idee strikes her. She said her red bird had been kind of droopin' lately. She noticed that it was gittin' thinner an' thinner but redder an' redder^ every day, an' at last she found it was completely kivered with little red ants that was eatin' it up alive. She poured bilin' water on the ants and killed 'em. Miss Harper asked her why the bilin' water didn't kill the bird, but you bet Sahpphiry'd have an answer ready. You can't phase her noway. She said it was be- cause the bird come from a hot climate an' could stan' lots of heat. Reuben. V/here's Ted? Teddy (comes forward timidly. Arthur steps forward.) Uncle Reuben, you remember Mr. Ames. Reuben {turns and looks at him in slow surprise). Why, yes. Howdy. I believe I asked you once not to come here THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 43 any more. We've had enough of you book-larned city fel- lers. We can git along well enough without ye. Martha. Why, Reuben, I'm ashamed on ye. Can't ye keep a civil tongue in your head? Arthur. Mr. Hardacre, I've come many miles to ask this little girl to be my wife. Now I only want your con- sent and Aunt Martha's, for she's given me hers. Reuben. Well, you must have wanted it to come through the storm to git her, so I'll see. Look here, Ted. (Reuben rises.) You want to leave your old uncle, do you? Teddy (putting her arms around his neck and beginning to cry). Oh, Uncle! Reuben. Don't cry. That's what it amounts to. Well, I ain't nothing to say. If you want her, young man, and mean to be honest by her, and she wants you, I suppose you'll have to have each other. It's the way of the world. Heigho ! {Sits doztm again near the stove. Teddy and Arthur go to hack of stage.) Enter from L. Tom, and Jake, who has an armfid of wood. Jake throzvs wood in the zvood box and puts a stick or two in the stove. Tom stamps his feet and unwinds his comforter. Martha {going to him solicitously) Air ye wet, Tom? {Feels his coat.) Tom. Not much, mother. It is storming hard, though. Martha. You remember Mr. Ames, Tom? Tom {looks surprise). Why, yes. Sort of a stranger, ain't you? Arthur {shaking his hand). Somewhat. Martha. Well, it don't look like it the way Teddy acts. Land sakes, child, you won't make much of a wife. Why, Mr. Ames has been here all this time and ain't took off his wet ulster. He'll git the ammonia and maybe die before you git him. Will you have a cup of tea or suthin' to warm you up. ? Arthur. No, I thank you. (Teddy helps him to re- move his ulster and they return to the corner, Martha sits dn7jun at the table and knits.) 44 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Tom. Where's the paper? (Jake hands it to him, gets an apple from the table and then sits down in the rear of the room, L., munching it, looking glum, watching Teddy and Arthur. Reuben sits toasting his feet at the stove and smoking his pipe and Tom draws chair to the table and reads the paper.) Reuben. Ain't you done them socks yit, Marthy? (Martha tzviches her mouth in unison zvith her knitting and does not reply. Reuben, laughing.) There you go agin, Marthy, workin' your mouth when you knit. You know I alius told you a woman couldn't keep her jaw still even when she wasn't talkin'. Martha. You be still, Reuben Hardacre. {The wind ivhistles and hozvls outside. There is silence a moment.) Reuben. Heigho! Do you know (taking his pipe from his mouth and with a tremulous note in Jiis voice), perhaps it's because we're all safe an' warm an' under shelter that a. night like this alius makes me think of the little gal. Martha. Oh, Reuben, what made you say that, as though you thought she was cold and hungry or suthin'. (Martha drops her knitting and taking off her glasses wipes away the moisture that comes quickly to her eyes. Tom looks up, the frown deepens in his forehead and the paper shakes beneath his hand.) Reuben. Well, I dunno what made me say it. Maybe she's warm an' happy an' maybe she ain't — that's the stickler. We ain't heerd fur a long time. Seems a little ongrateful, but I don't want to blame the lass. God knows I hope she's all right an' happy. I can't help hopin' she ain't quite forgot old Uncle an' the home she had for so many years. I want to say nothin 'agin the man she chose. He was eddicated an' that ketched her, an' I suppose she thought he was better than the rest of us. But somehow. (Pauses.) She told you she was happy, didn't she, Tom? (Tom gets up and zvalks about restlessly.) Tom. For God's sake, father, don't let's talk about it. You know the story. I've told it often enough that I found her a week after she ran away and that she said she was happy and married. That was all I wanted to find out. I didn't THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET: 45 see him. She begged me to go away and not follow her. It wan't my affair then. Reuben. Forgive me, Tom. I didn't mean to say nothin', but somehow I can't git it out of my head — {a sound is heard outside) — hark! What's that? Martha. I heard somethin'. There is a step on the porch. The step is follozved by a knock. Tom opens the door. Enter Lizzie, L., bedraggled, pale, thin, just a semblance of her former self, in a black gown with a long black cape and hood. Tom (brokenly, with an amazed exclamation). Lizzie! {Drops back a step.) Lizzie. Yes — it's Lizzie. {The ghost of a bitter smile plays about her lips.) Sick and tired and hungry and for- saken, come home just as they do in the stories, through the cold and snow, asking to be forgiven. Isn't it entertain- ing — for all the world like a chapter in a book? Maybe you'll drive her away. {Stands hesitatingly, then the bitter tone changes and she puts out her arms.) O, let me stay, I beg you — don't turn me away! {Drops to the floor in a faint. Tom catches her. All spring up. Teddy brings a glass of water and Lizzie recovers in a minute. Drinks the. water. Martha and Reuben drazv an arm chair near the store and Lizzie sits down.) Martha. Turn you away, lamb — as if we would. Lizzie, And you are all here just as I left you — quiet, peaceful, happy, while I — oh, my God, I have been through so much — so much ! Martha. There, there lamb ; don't talk now. Wait till mornin', when you'll be more rested and more quiet like. (Teddy kneels by Lizzie^s chair. Martha leans over her. Tom drops into a seat near the table and rests his head upon his hands.) Lizzie {excitedly). Yes, yes, let me talk. I cannot rest until I have told you all. For days I have wandered through the cold and wet and snow, and if I cannot talk now I shall go mad. I must tell you what has come into my life, you dear faithful ones, from whom I ran away. But, oh. 46 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. I did not mean to be ungrateful: I was so much in love with — {gives a short, hitter laugh.) I was going to say my husband. Tom {rising and holding out his arms). Lizzie, you were married! Lizzie (bitterly). I thought so — and then — Martha (soothingly). Don't talk now, dear. 'Lizzie. Yes, I must talk — it's my salvation. I've kept it so long. Oh, Tom, don't look at me so! (Tom drops into seat.) I was afraid to come back — ^bitterly ashamed to have you know that I had been deceived and afraid to have you meet Mark for fear you would kill him. Teddy (throzvs her arms about her neck). Lizzie, Lizzie darling, don't talk so. You know we all love you dearly. Lizzie (pushing her away). I have been so ungrateful. Let me tell you — tell you all. It was that old story of a mock marriage, and so we lived along, going from town to town, he selling his books and I helping him. Then there came a day when he was no longer the same to me, when I felt that he had grown cold and indifferent. Then he told me of his deceit, that he had another wife — a wicked woman, he said, whom he could not love. In my agony I went down on my knees, for I loved him still, and prayed him to get a divorce and make me his lawful wife. (She pauses a moment, then gives a sort of groan.) Then I found out his real nature — knew that he no longer cared for me. He laughed me to scorn, told me there was no wife, but that he could never marry me. We quarreled. I went mad with rage and said wild, bitter, wicked things. Then — oh, I must tell you, you good, gentle people, who always treated me so tenderly, who never struck me a blow even in my days of childhood — he, my protector, raised his hand and gave me a blow that left its mark for days. (Tom's clenched fist goes up in the air.) Tom. I told him once that if he didn't mean right by you he had more than a helpless girl to deal with, an' if I live an' he lives, I'll give him blow for blow an' plenty more for good measure. Lizzie (clasping her hands together nervously). Oh, THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 47 Tom, dear Tom, I knew you would protect me. Hunt him out like a dog, make him suffer as I have suffered, for the anguish of heart I have endured and the cold and hun- ger since I ran away, riding on trains while my money lasted and then walking on miles and miles, it seemed to me, begging for food and shelter at farm houses and try- ing to avoid answering questions lest I disgrace you all. Oh, Tom, Tom! {She rises partly from her chair, zvith a zvild look in her eyes.) Hunt him down, give him blow for blow and agony for agony. Do you want to know the rest. I ran away — lived as best I could — working out by the day, earning barely enough to keep me alive. I grew so lonely and heartsick I said I'll go back and face it all. They will turn me away, perhaps, but at least I can see them all. (SJie rises and starts azvay.) And now I'll go. I had no right to come. Reuben (catches her in his arms.) Go, my lamb? You'll never leave us again. Lizzie (sobbing). Oh, I shouldn't stay! Martha (crying). Don't say that. \\'e're all miserable sinners, and massy knows you've suft'ered. Lizzie. Oh, I can't believe you'll forgive me — all you dear ones. Oh, Tom, Tom, I didn't mean what I said just now. You are so strong and good and kind. Don't fol- low him. Don't hunt him down. God knows I have been the cause of enough misery to you all. What is it. Uncle Reuben, that the Bible says of vengeance? Reuben. Vengeance is mine. I will repay saith the Lord. Lizzie. Yes, yes. ''Vengeance is mine." That's it, Tom. Leave it to Him, Tom. (Her tone becomes very pleading.) Oh, do you mean — tell me again that I may stay with you, that you will not turn me out. I will work my fingers to the bone for you. Reuben (taking her in his arms). Not a word more, Lizzie. We don't want to hear nothin'. Why, you ain't been away — not for a minute. Do ye all understand? Lizzie ain't been away at all. 48 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Lizzie. God bless you all for your sweet forgiveness. Jake {coming to the front of stage). No, she ain't been away, and if anybody says she has I'll kick him where the old white mule kicked me last week. I will, by gosh! Curtain. Act IV. Scene: Same as Act III. One week later. Reuben zvrestling zvith a clean collar, standing in his shirt sleeves in front of the small mirror on the wall; his coat is on the back of a chair. Martha in stiff, old-fash- ioned black silk gozvn zvith a white apron over her dress, goes about giving final touches to the room. Reuben (working at his collar). Darn this collar! Martha (in horror). Why, Reuben Hardacre, you a takin' the Lord's name in vain, and it's just the same as Sunday — Ted's wedding day. Reuben (turning from the mirror). I'm glad I don't have to wear these darn things more'n once a week and sometimes not that often. Enter Teddy, R., with a zvhite cashmere (silk or muslin) gown with a rose in her hair. Reuben. Come here, Ted, and help me. You might as well git your hand in. (Martha goes to mirror and primps. Teddy helps to fasten his collar and arrange his tie, Reuben talking as she does so.) You look sweet enough to kiss, as I s'pose a bride had ought to. My, my, makes me think of how fine Marthy looked the day we got married. Slim and pretty — a half yard of ribbon would go round her waist. Now I guess a yard couldn't make it. Martha (indignantly, turning around). Reuben Hard- acre, what air you a-sayin. I calkerlate I'm about as slim waisted as most women o' my age. Reuben. How about Sapphira Scriggins. Martha. You needn't be classin' me with Sapphiry. I'm a sight better lookin' than she is. THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 49 Teddy. There, now. Uncle, you look fine. {Kisses him.) Reuben. I s'pose you think you're the happiest gal in the world and that nobody else ever got married before. Well, all the fools ain't dead yet. (Pinches her cheek and puts on his coat.) Martha. Now, that's too bad to talk to Ted like that on her weddin' mornin', Reuben. {Crosses to Teddy.) Teddy {putting her arms around Martha). Oh, I know Uncle Reuben doesn't mean it. Aunt Martha. I don't mind him in the least. I am very, very happy, except for one thing. If Lizzie could only be happy again. If she would only smile and not be so listless. {Sighs.) Reuben {drawing the hack of his hand across his eyes). There, don't ; don't, Ted, or you'll git me to blubberin', an' this has got to be a joyous day. {Sleigh hells are heard in the distance.) Martha (zt'/rA a sigh). Time and prayer is all that's goin' to heal Lizzie's broken heart. But hark, I hear sleigh bells. {The hells sound nearer and nearer.) It must be the' minister. {''Whoa!" is heard outside. Martha goes to the window.) Yes, it be. Stamping of feet outside. Enter, L., Arthur and Rev. Mason with snozu on their coats. Arthur {shakes his coat). Howdy, Aunt Martha and Uncle Reuben. (Arthur hurries to Teddy and kisses her.) Martha (shaking hands zuith the minister). Howdy, Brother Mason. Walk right in. (Helps him off with his coat.) This is a happy meeting. Rev. Mason. A most joyous occasion, my dear Sister Hardacre. Reuben. Howdy, Brother Mason. (They shake hands. Arthur takes off his overcoat and hangs it up.) Rev. Mason (crossing to Teddy). And the little bride. (Shakes her hand.) I wish all the joy imaginable. Reuben. Well, the preacher's here now, and if you are ready to be married you'd better stand up and git hitched. (Winks at Arthur.) There's time yit, young man, if you want to run. I'll hold the door open. 50 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Arthur. Oh, I don't want to run away, I assure you. Martha. You quit your teasin', Reuben. Let's call Tom and Lizzie. We'll go into the parlor. (Takes off .her apron.) Come, Brother Mason. Reuben. Ain't you gettin' a Httle styl'ish? Fust time the parlor's been opened fur two years. {Exit R., Martha, Teddy, Arthur and Rev. Mason.) Makes me think of the time Martha an' me got hitched, by gosh ! {Exit Reuben, R.) Sleigh hells are heard. The Old Oaken Bucket verse and chorus is sung from the zvings, first in the distance, then nearer and nearer. Lizzie enters R. during the sing- ing and walks to the zvindow, listens, then goes to table and drops into a chair, resting her head on her hands. Enter Uncle Reuben at close of song, followed by Teddy, Arthur. Rev. Mason, Martha. Jake and Tom, laughing and talking. Martha goes to Lizzie. Rev. Mason. Accept my congratulations, Mrs. Ames. Reuben (goes up and wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, takes Teddy's face between his hands and gives her a sounding smack on the lips). Mrs. Ames, I s'pose you feel pretty sot up, eh? (Shakes Arthur's hand.) Be good to her, young man, because she's a powerful sweet little woman and she deserves it. (Shouts are heard again and sleigh bells. Martha goes to the zcindozv.) Martha. Why, there's a hull sleigh load of folks. Land sakes, they're turnin' in here. Why, I didn't ask nobody to the weddin', (she pauses) for Lizzie's sake. (Starts to door L. The door bursts open and a gay party — Miry Jones, Mr. and Mrs. G. Whillikins, Ezry Babb and Sapphira Scriggins, come in, bringing tzvo large baskets, one containing the presents and one the lunch. They shout "Surprise! Surprise! Surprise!'' Loud laughter and chat- ter, everybody shakes hands and each one says, "Hozvdy do, Uncle Reuben. Howdy do, Aunt Martha. Hozvdy, Brother Mason,'' etc.) Reuben (to Mr. G. Whillikins). How did you find the sleddin'? THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 51 Mr. G. W. Best you ever see. Miry (to Martha). We heard Ted was goin' to be married, So we invited ourselves as a surprise on the bride. (Mr. and Mrs. G. W., Ezry and Sapphira shake off the snozv and remove their wraps. Ezry^ who carries the large lunch basket, puts it under the table.) Martha {apologetically). Well, I'm powerful sorry that we didn't invite nobody, but you see the weddin' was kind o' sudden. (Martha helps Miry off with her wraps. Lizzie slips out R. unobserved by the others except Tom, zvho puts his hand on her to detain her, but she shakes her head and goes out.) Reuben {taking Teddy^s hand, leading her to C. of room). Let me interjuce to you all Mrs. Arthur Ames. Mr. G. W. You ain't never meanin' to say Ted stole a march on us and is married already? Well, I'm goin' to be the fust to kiss the bride. {Goes to her and gives her a resounding smack. Jake and Ezry crowd around and kiss her. Exit Tom, whose thoughts are of Lizzie.) Sapphira {coming forzvard). Air we women folks sup- posed to kiss the groom? Reuben {with a zvink at Arthur). Why, of course. Step right up, Sapphiry. (Arthur makes a zvry face and Sapphira hugs and kisses him; everybody applauds.) Mr. G. W. Fust time you ever kissed a man, Sapphiry? Sapphira. Fust time? Humph! I was the belle of the county when I was a gal and was engaged fifty-six times. Jake {aside). Oh, Lord, what a liar! Reuben. Make that fifty-five, Sapphiry, an' we'll be- lieve ye. Sapphira. I come the nighest to bein' married the last time, but the man was drowned just the day before the ceremony. Mr. G. W. {nudging Reuben). I bet he committed sui- cide. Sapphira. He was out boatin' and fell into the lake and the last words he said was, as he waved farewell, "Tell, Sapphiry I died thinkin' of her. {Begins to cry.) 52 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. EzRY (coming up to her). Ain't it kind of queer he could speak when he wuz so full of water, Sapphiry? (Everyone laughs.) Reuben. Don't spile Sapphiry's story. Mrs. G. W. (ivho has taken the basket containing the presents to the table zvhile the others talk). Well, let's unpack the presents. (All the guests hurry to assist.) Miry (handing Teddy an album of red plush). I am appinted by the ladies of the Town Centre Church to pre- sent you with an album. Teddy. Oh, thank you so much. (Teddy and Arthur stand together to receive gifts.) Mr. G. W. (to Arthur). And I'm appinted by the men of the Town Centre Church to present you with a collar and cuff box. (Hands Arthur tzco bright plush boxes.) Arthur. I don't know how I can thank you for your kindness. Sapphira. TVe brought you a quilt I pieced myself. (Hands Teddy a patchzuork quilt.) Teddy. It is beautiful and so kind of you. EzRY (zi'ith a bozv). The United Order of Woodmen appinted me to present to the bridal couple this beautiful castor to begin housekeeping' on. (Hands Arthur a large silver castor containing vinegar, salt and pepper cruets.) Arthur. We are very, very grateful, I assure you. Martha (lifting up the lunch basket). Well, I'll put your lunches on the table. Mr. G. W. Come, Ezry, let's have a dance while they're settin' the table. Mrs. G. W. Well, we ought to go and help Marthy. Martha. No, you dance. I kin git along alone. Mr. G. Whillikins takes Sapphira's hand, Jake takes Miry's, Reuben takes Mrs. G. Whillikins' and Arthur takes Teddy's. Everybody talks and laughs. They form a set. Ezry stands up on a chair and calls off as they dance. Enter Tom, R., z^'ho stands at door leading to the living room and looks on. During the dance Martha piles up doughnuts, pumpkin pics, apples, etc., on the table. The THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. S3 Rev. Mason laughs and chats zvith her as she works and they eat doughnuts and apples. EzRY (calling off, interspersing the music with his own remarks and efforts at rhyme. The tune of "Old Dan Tucker' is played by the orchestra. Dance must be lively) . Everybody bow — salute corners. Sashay up and bow to Miry. Sashay back and howdy do. (First couple, Arthur and Teddy, Jake and Miry go to center and back again and bow.) Sashay up and bow to Sapphiry. Sashay back and you know how. (Second couple go to center, return and bow.) Fust couple cross over. Jake don't try to make a mash. Back again. (First couple go back to place.) Second couple — Steady, Reuben, Or, Whillikins your face will smash. Back again. (Second couple go back to place.) Ladies change, and trip so lightly. Gorry me, but that was fine. (First couple ladies change.) Now again and do it sprightly. Bet your life you fellers shine. (Second couple ladies change.) • Give your right hand to your partner. Look here, fellers, don't you squeeze. Make a grand change everybody. That will all the ladies please. (While the change is made Ezry says also.) Hurry up, Reuben, step lightly ; you're a leetle slow. Fust couple lead to the right. Bride's a-lookin' mighty sweet. Four hands round. There, Jake Tompkins, 54 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Look out where you put your feet. Two couple lead to the right. . Uncle Reuben, don't you flirt. Six hands round — whew! (Whistles.) Sapphiry, you had better drop that skirt. Three couples lead to the right. Sashay all and do your best. Circle round and go a-kitin' ; Then Til let you take a rest. (After the dance is concluded everyone laughs and talks loudly and the men seat the zvonien.) Mrs.-G. W. (to Miry). Now, Miry, won't you enter- tain us with some speakin'? . Miry. Oh, I ain't spoke a piece for some time. Mrs. G. W. Give us that lovely one about the girl who hung onto the bell. (Miry, after some demurring^ stands lip and recites very tragically, ''Curfew Must Not Ring Tonight/' or any selection. Applause at the close.) Miry. Now, it's your turn, Mrs. Whillikins. Sing some- thing for us. Mrs. G. W. Well, I'm kind o' out of practice. (Rises and sings in a cracked voice an old-fashioned air. Ap- plause.) Reuben. Jake, git up and shake your foot a little. (Jake dances a clog. ^Ipplause. The specialties zuill of course be changed to suit the abilities of the various actors.) Martha. Come, everybody, and git some lunch. Reuben. Everybody git partners. (Looks around.) Why, where's Lizzie. Did she go out? Go fetch her, Tom. (Mrs. G. Whillikins and Miry looks at one another.) Tom. Lizzie don't want to come, father. Reuben. Don't want to come. Why, bless her heart, she must come. I'll fetch her. I couldn't eat without her. (He leaves the room.) Sapphira (to Martha). Why, Lizzie ain't come back, is she? THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. 55- Martha (nervously, arranging the table). Yes, she come back a week ago. Mr. G. W. Well, do say. And did her husband come with her? Reuben enters, bringing Lizzie^ who conies in reluc- tantly. All turn to her. Mr. G. W. Why, howdy do, Lizzie. We're all glad to see you. Sapphira. How's Mr. Hayward? Middlin' well, I hope. Lizzie (pauses and half turns to go back, speaks with agitation). Let me go away to myself, Uncl^. Reuben (detaining her). Come, lamb. Get in line. I'm goin' to ask you all to say nothin' about Mark Hayward. Come on, Lizzie. Ted, you an' your man lead the way. Sapphira. Oh, beg pardon. I didn't know Lizzie was divorced. Lizzie (zvith a sudden little cry of pain). You might as well know. I'm not divorced — (hesitates) — not married. (A dead silence for a moment.) Mr. G. W. (stepping forward). Well, Reuben, I think we'll be going. (Takes his zvife by the arm and starts to put on wraps.) Miry (rising). It's gittin' late. (Gets her coat and hood.) Sapphira. Land sake ! It is late. (Puts on shawl and bonnet. Ezry gets his coat, cap and woolen scarf.) Reuben (thunderingly). What! Air you all goin' on account of Lizzie? Well git out, the hull bunch of ye — an' darn quick ! . Martha (sobbing). Oh, Reuben! 'Lizzie (catching at his arm). No^ no, Uncle. Don't send them away. Let me go. I should never have come. (Sobs upon his breast.) Sapphira (stepping forzvard and tying her bonnet strings vigorously as she talks). Well, Reuben Hardacre, I must say you're pretty willin' to git rid of your friends. You know what we alius thought of you an' Marthy, an' OCT 23 md 56 THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET. Ted, too, but Lizzie alius held her head up higher than the rest of us. Lizzie (starting to leave the room). I must go. I can't endure it. They are right. (Tom stops her, draws her to him.) Rev. Mason (steps forward and holds out his hand as if in supplication). Friends, I pray you, mar not this young girl's wedding day. (Places his hand gently upon Teddy's head zvhich has drooped upon her husband's breast) with bickerings and false pride. You profess to be followers of the stainless One, who said, when they brought Him the sinner, ''Let him who is without a sin among you first cast a stone." Tom (stepping forward). Neighbors, I am a man of few words, as you know. Lizzie, will you be my wife? (Holds out his arms to her.) Lizzie. No, no, Tom. I will go. Tom. Go? Do you know what these two years have been to me? And when you come back, although you were so unhappy, the sun shone again. (Holds out his arms and she creeps into them. Tom kisses her). God bless you, my darling. (The play may close there or ivith the words of Sapphira.) Sapphira (stepping fonvard). Well, there ain't no ac- countin' fur tastes. The idea of him a-takin' her when he could git me. Curtain, DENISON'S ACTING PLAYS. Price 15 Cents Each, Postpaid. Unless Different Price is Given. M. F. Documentary Evidence, 25 min. 1 1 Dude in a Cyclone, 20 min. ... 4 2 Family Strike, 20 min 3 3 First-Class Hotel, 20 min 4 For Love and Honor, 20 min.. 2 1 Fudge and a Burglar, 15 min.. 5 Fun in a Photograph Gallery, 30 min 6 10 Great Doughnut Corporation, 30 min 3 5 Great Medical Dispensary, 30 m. 6 <^reat Pumpkin Case, 30 min. ..12 Hans Von Smash, 30 min 4 3 Happy Pair, 25 min 1 1 I'm Not Mesilf at All, 25 min. 3 2 Initiating a Granger, 25 min.. 8 Irish Linen Peddler, 40 min... 3 3 Is the Editor In? 20 min 4 2 Kansas Immigrants, 20 min.... 5 1 Men Not Wanted, 30 min 8 Mike Donovan's Courtship, 15 m. 1 3 Mother Goose's Goslings, 30 m. 7 9 Mrs. Carver's Fancy Ball, 40 m. 4 3 Mrs. Stubbins' Book Agent, 30 min 3 2 My Lord in Livery, 1 hr 4 3 My Neighbor's Wife, 45 min... 3 3 My Turn Next, 45 min 4 3 My Wife's Relations, 1 hr 4 6 Not a Man in the House, 40 m. 5 Obstinate Family, 40 min 3 3 Only Cold Tea, 20 min 3 3 Outwitting the Colonel, 25 min. 3 2 Pair of Lunatics, 20 min 1 1 Patsy O'Wang, 35 min 4 3 Pat. the Apothecary, 35 min... 6 2 Persecuted Dutchman, 30 min.. 6 3 Regular Fix, 35 min 6 4 Rough Diamond, 40 min 4 5 Second Childhood, 15 min 2 2 Slasher and Crasher, SO min... 5 2 Taking' Father's Place, 30 min.. 5 3 Taming a Tiger, 30 min 3 That Rascal Pat, 30 min 3 2 Those Red Envelopes, 25 min. 4 4 Too Much of a Good Thing, 45 min 3 6 Treasure from Egypt, 45 min. 4 1 Turn Him Out, 35 min 3 2 Two Aunts and a Photo, 20 m. . 4 Two Bonnycastles, 45 min 3 3 Two Gentlemen in a Fix, 15 m. 2 Two Ghosts in White, 20 min.. 8 Two of a Kind, 40 min 2 3 Uncle Dick's Mistake, 20 min.. 3 2 Wanted a Correspondent, 45 m. 4 4 Wanted a Hero, 20 min 1 1 Which Will He Marry? 20 min. 2 8 Who Is Who? 40 min 3 2 Wide Enough for Two, 45 min. 5 2 Wrong Baby, 25 min 8 Yankee Peddler, 1 hr 7 3 VAUDEVILLE SKETCHES. I^.ON- OLOGUES, ETHIOPIAN PLAYS. M. F. Ax'in' Her Father, 25 min 2 3 Booster Club of Blackville, 25 m.lO Breakfast Food for Two, 20 m. . 1 1 Cold Finish, 15 min 2 1 Coon Creek Courtship, 15 min.. 1 1 Coontown Thirteen Club, 25 m. 14 Counterfeit Bills, 20 min 1 1 Doings of a Dude, 20 min 2 1 Dutch Cocktail, 20 min 2 Five Minutes from Yell College, 15 min 2 For Reform, 20 min 4 Fresh Timothy Hay, 20 min... 2 1 Glickman, the Glazier, 25 min.. 1 1 Handy Andy (Negro), 12 min.. 2 Her Hero, 20 min 1 1 Hey, Rube! 15 min 1 Home Run, 15 min 1 1 Hot Air, 25 min 2 1 Jumbo Jum, 30 min 4 3 Little Red School House, 20 m. 4 Love and Lather, 35 min 3 2 Marriage and After, 10 min... 1 Mischievous Nigger, 25 min... 4 2 Mistaken Miss, 20 min 1 1 Mr. and Mrs. Fido, 20 min 1 1 Mr. Badger's Uppers, 40 min.. 4 2 One Sweetheart for Two, 20 m. 2 Oshkosh Next Week, 20 min.. 4 Oyster Stew, 10 min 2 Pete Yansen's Gurl's Moder, 10 min 1 Pickles for Two, 15 min 2 Pooh Bah of Peacetown, 35 min. 2 2 Prof. Black's Funnygraph, 15 m. 6 Recruiting Office, 15 min 2 Sham Doctor, 10 min 4 2 Si and I, 15 min 1 Special Sale, 15 min 2 Stage Struck Darky, 10 min... 2 1 Sunny Son of Italy, 15 min... 1 Time Table, 20 min 1 1 Tramp and the Actress, 20 min. 1 1 Troubled by Ghosts, 10 min... 4 Troubles of Rozinski, 15 min.. 1 Two Jay Detectives, 15 min... 3 Umbrella Mender, 15 min 2 Uncle Bill at the Vaudeville, 15 min 1 Uncle Jeff, 25 min 5 2 Who Gits de Reward? 30 min.. 5 1 A 4{reat number of Standard and Amateur Plays not found here are listed in Denison's Cataloifue. T. S. DENISON £i COMPANY. 154 W. Randolph St., Chicago OCT 23 1813 l*OPULAR ENTERTAIN Price, Illustrated Paper Covei LIBRARY OF CONGRESS IN this Series are found books touching- eve ry feature in the enter- tainment field Finely made good paper clear print and each book has an attractive individual cov- er design. DIALOGUES Ail Sorts of Dialo|{ues. Selected, fine for older pupils. Catchy Comic Dialogues. New, clever; for young people. Children's Comic Dtalo{{ues. From six to eleven years of age. Dialogues from Dickens. Thirteen selections. The Friday Afternoon DiaIo({ues. 50,000 copies sold. From Tots to Teens. Dialogues and recitations. Lively Dialogues. For all ages; mostly humorous. When the Lessons are Over. Dialogues, drills, plays. Wide Awake Dialogues. Brand new, original, successful. SPEAKERS. MONOLOGUES Choice Pieces for Little People. A child's speaker. The Comic Entertainer. Recitations, monologues,dialogues. Dialect Readings. Irish, Dutch, Negro, Scotch, etc. The Favorite Speaker. . Choice prose and poetry. The Friday Afternoon Speaker. For pupils of all ages. Humorous Monologues. Particularly for ladies. Monologues for Youn^ Folks. Clever, humorous, original. The Patriotic Speaker. Master thoughts of masterminds. The Poetical Entertainer. For reading or speaking. Pomes ov the Peepul. Wit, humor, satire; funny poems. Scrap-Book Recitations. Choice collections, pathetic, hu- morous, descriptive, prose, poe- try. 14 Nos., per No. 23c. 015 910 213 The \ The . Drills that sparkle witn ongmam.,. Little Plays With Drills. For children from 6 to 11 years. The Surprise Drill Book. Fresh, novel, drills and marches. SPECIALTIES The Boys* Entertainer. Monologues, dialogues, drills. Children's Party Book. Plans, invitations, decorations, games. The Days We Celebrate. Entertainments for all the holidays. Good Things for Christmas. Recitations, dialogues, drills. The Little Folks, or Work and Play. A gem of a book. Little Folks* Budget. Easy pieces to speak, songs. One Hundred Entertainments. New parlor diversions, socials. Patriotic Celebrations. Great variety of material. Pranks and Pastimes. Parlor games for children. Shadow Pictures, Pantomimes, Charades, and how to prepare. Tableaux and Scenic Readings. New and novel; for all ages. Twinkling Finders and Swaying Figures. For little tots. Yuletide Entertainments. A choice Christmas collection. HAND BOOKS Thu Debater's Handbook. Bound only in cloth, dOc. Everybody's Letter Writer./ A handy manual. Good Manners. Etiquette in brief form, 'i Private Theatricals. , How to put on plays, i Social Card Games. Complete in brief form. MINSTRELS, JOKES Black American Joker. Minstrels' and end men's gags. A Bundle of Burnt Cork Comedy. Monologues, stump speeches,etc. Lau^hland, via the Ha-Ha Route. A merry trip for fun tourists. Ne^ro Minstrels. All about the business. The New Jolly Jester. Funny stories, jokes, gags, etc. Lar^e Illustrated Catalo({ue Free. T. S. DENISON £i COMPANY, Publishers, 154 W. Randolph St., Chica^