PR 4399 .B3 D4 Copy 1 PRICE IS CENTK DE WITT'S ACTING- PLAYS. (Number 16.) DEARER THAN LIFE A SEKIOCOMIC DRAMA. IN THREE ACTS. By HENEY J. BYKON, Author of -£100,000." " William Tell, with a Vengeance." "Aladdin." ri( . (> Fifteen Cen I. READY, i NO THOROUGHFARE. A Drama, in Five Acta and a Prologue, ^ By '. harlos Dickens and Wiltie Collins. Price Fifteen Cents. iy_onog»Pb DE WiTT'S HALF-DIME MUSIC OP THE BEST SONGS FOR VOICE AND PIANO. JS SECRlES of Jirst class Songs contains the Words and Music {with the Piano accompaniment) of the most choice and exquisite Pieces, by the most able, gifted and most popular composers. It contains every style of good Music— from the solemn and pathetic to the light and humorous. In brief this collection is a complete Musical! Library in itself both of Vocal and Piano-Forte Music. It is printed from new, clear, distinct, elegant Music Type, on fine white paper, made expressly for this Series, and is published at the low price of Five Cents. Remember, Each Number, contains a Complete Piece of Music, beautifully printed on Sheet Music Paper. Any Twenty Pieces mailed on receipt of One Dollar, postage paid. tW PLEASE ORDER BY THE NUMBERS. ~&k Address, R. M. DE WITT, Publisher, S3 Hose Street, JV, T. SENTIMENTAL SONGS AND BALLADS. Composer. Laser's Letter>Box Wrigh ton. Thy Voice is Sear Wrighton. Bine-Eyed Violets Jackson. The Maiden and Her Linnet. Montgomery. Soft Dew is Sleeping Barker. When the Roses Blow Allen. Beautiful Bells Coote. The Mother's Dream Sullivan. My Spirit Star Young. Little Maggie May Blamphin. The Vagabond Molloy. My Heart is O'er the Sen. .Claribel. Maggie's 'Welcome Claribel. Dreaming of Nellie Hogett. Five O'Clock in the Morning. Claribel. She Came and Vanished Like a Dream Boucher. Meet Me in the Lane Blamphin. Tapping at tho Garden Gate. Sleeping on Guard Wrig-hton. Summer Dew Barker. •h. My Lost Love Plumpton. 44. f« SO. St. S3. SS. S6. 3t. 38. 35. as. 41. 43. 45. 4V. 48. No. Composer. St. Ear Away BUM. SS. Jess Macfarlane Tucker. 5-J. Yes, I'll Meet Thee. Dearest. Blamphin. «». Hattie Bell 61. Whisper "Yes," or "Mo," Love. " Artele." 6*. Her Bright Smile Haunts Me 63. Oh. Cast that Shado w from Thy 64. Love Not Blockley. 65. She Wore a Wreath of Roses. Knight. to. Pretty Little Dark Eyes. ... Parker. ?a. When we went a Gleaning. Oanz. ?4. Mary of Argyle Nelson. t.». What Did Little Birdie Say? Balfe. ■7G. Sing, Birdie, Sing . . Oanz. SH. Spring-Time of Life. Jackson. ?». Nightingale's Trill.... Oanz. of above plays BOBERT M. DE WITT, Publisher, 33 Rose Street, N. 7 Allow me to direct your atten- tion to the fact that I have just pub- lished a COMPLETE EDITION of BULWER'S DRAMATIC WORKS, suitable for the Library, in one volume, cloth, gold lettered, price One Dollar and Fifty Cents. De Witt's Acting Edition Bulwer's Plats; being the complete Dramatic Works of Lord Lytton (Sir Edward Lytton Bulwer, Bart), comprising "The Lady of Lyons;" "Money;" "Richelieu;" "The Rightful Heir;" "Walpole;" "Not So Bad As We Seem;" "The Duchess de la Vallierre." From the author's original text. An entirely new Acting Edition. By John M. Kingdom. ROBERT M. DE WITT, Publisher, 33 Rose Street N. Y. Now Beady.— Tennyson's Great Play. QUEEN MARY, Properly prepared for the Stage. The only Acting Edition in the market. Price 30 Cents, being a double Number (181 and 182) of De Witt's Act- ing Plays. .A DEARER THAN LIFE % ^rio-Cjomtr grama, IN THREE ACTS. Br HENRY J. BYEON, Esq., Author of " .£100,000," " William Tell, with a Vengeance," " Aladdin," etc. AS FIRST PERFORMED AT THE ROYAL ALEXANDRA THEATRE, LIV- ERPOOL, UNDER THE MANAGEMENT OF MR. E. ENGLISH, NOVEMBER 25, 1867. TO WHICH IS ADDED A DESCRIPTION OP THE COSTUME — CAST OF THE CHARACTERS — EN- TRANCES AND EXITS — RELATIVE POSITIONS OF THE PER- FORMERS ON THE STAGE, AND THE WHOLE OF THE STAGE BUSINESS. NEW YORK : ROBEHT M. OE WITT, PUBLISHER, NO, 33 ROSE STREET. DEARKR THAN LIFE. Tfirtvt CAST OF CHARACTERS. Alexandra Tlieatre, Liverpool, Nov. 25, 186 Michael Garner Mr. J. L. Toole. Uncle Ben, his elder brother. Mr. David F16HER. Charley, M i - chael's son. . . .Mr. "Wardropper. Bob Gassitt Mr. Eldred. Old Bolter Mr. Kedgely... Mr. Chigley.... Mr. Mingle Mrs. Chigley... M^rs. Garner.... Mrs. Dyas. ijucy, her niece. Miss Ada Dyas. Mrs. Pellet Mrs. Proctor. Mrs. Mingle.... Misses Chigley.. AGueat Queen's Theatre, Sdwyn's Theatre, Boston, . London, Jan. 8, 1868. Mass., March 9, 1868. First time in America. Mr. J. L. Toole. Mr. G. H. Griffiths. Mr. L. Brodgh. Mr. C. Wyndham. Mr. H. Irving. Mr. C. LEYTON. Mr. John Clayton. Mrs. E. Dyas. Miss H. Hodson. Miss EVERARD. Miss Ewell. Misses Jordan and Lee, Mr. H. Piebson. Mr. H. S. Murdoch; Mr. E. ColemAn. Mr. H. F. Daly. Mr. C. Stedman. Mr. G. F. Kenway. Mr. O. H. Dinsmore. MraT Graham. Miss A. Harris. Miss L. Anderson. Miss M. Wilkin s. Mrs. Steele. Miss Forrest. TIME OF PLAYING-TWO HOURS. SYNOPSIS. Michael Garner, a hard-working and honest tradesman, is about to celebrate the twenty- seventh anniversary of his wedding. His family consists of his wife, his son Charles, upon whom his mother doats with a blinded affection, and Lucy, his niece, betrothed to the young man. Charles has been covertly leading a dis- sipated life at the instigation of Gassitt, who aspires to marry Lucy. Charles' course of conduct is known to his father, who conceals it from his wife, fearing that exposure of her son's practices would break the mother's heart. Chailes, losing a large sum of money on a race horse, makes Lucy a confidant, and ascertains from her that his mother has amassed a good sum of money through many years of sav- ing, which she intends giving the young couple on their wedding day. This infor- mation is scarce imparted before Garner is visited by his son's employer, who charges that Charles has been guilty of forgery and embezzlement. Lucy induces Mrs. Garner to produce her money-box, in order to shield the young man from arrest, when it is discovered that that, too, has been robbed. Charles migrates to a distant country to retrieve his reputation and means, while the family are reduced to a point bordering upon starvation, in wretched lodgings, from which they* are in danger of being evicted. Gassitt persecutes Lucy with his advances, and falsely represents Charles to have married abroad, while Garner, under the influence of drink, betrays to the mother knowledge of her son's misdeeds. The doating parent is prostyated, when Charles returns, a reformed and wealthy man, to claim his bride and to expose the iniquities of Gassitt, who has converted to his own use money remitted to his c ire by the absent Charles to support his father's family. Uncle Ben, an inveterate inebriate, smitten by remorse, avows the robbery of Mrs. Garner's money-box, and C.mrles emerges from suspicion, cleansed from all oriraiual taint. GIFT EST. OF J H. CORNING JUNE 20. 1940 DEARER THAN LIFE. tfChair. SCENERY. ACTS I. and II.— Interior on three groves. Window | ..... : I Door, ,.•••• Showing wall at back. Sideboard, chairs r, and l. sides. Chair. Sola. | I I I I I Steps. : 9 Chair. Table, chairs r. and i. Fireplace. < "b;iir.:;j Carpet down. Closed in l. and k. A number of framed pictures on the flat and side-sets ; white muslin net curtains to window in F., which is cut out. ; d. in r. and in r. 1 e. set, practicable. Stairs ». are of four or five steps, leading up to platform and door; profile banisters on each side. Fire to burn in fireplace; basket ot flowers and books on table r. front ; cloth to same ; chairs and sola covered with a light flowered pattern chintz. Flowers and clock on mantel, l. 1 e. Chest ot drawers, or side-board, up c, has a small strong-box on top of it. ACT II.— The fire is burning. Very " comfortable " light interior. ACT III.— Interior on two grooves. Poor attic ; Window. | OChair. ^Tablc. StCupboard. Chair. [Fireplace. Table, chairs n. and l- Closed in b. and l. Naked appearance to the room ; xnXLs stained and cracked ; some ot the window-panes cut out, some broken, the rest dirty ; backing to window view looking up a narrow street, house-tops shown ; doors r. 2 k. and l. 1 e., practi- cable ; fire to burn in fireplace, very feeble. COSTUMES {Modern, English.) Michael Garner.— Act I. : Made up a trifle stout and flushed of face. Light grey pants, white vest, blue coat with brass buttons, blue and black cravat, watch and chain, stand-up collar, eye-glass with black ribbon ; black hat, red silk handkerchief ; a letter in a wallet in his breast coat-pocket ; light hair, short curl. Act III. : Drab pants, light faded vest, shoes, woolen tippet, black long- skirted coat, all very shabby ; hat ; hair a little long, disordered ; pale face. Uncle Ben.— Act I. . Long-skirted coat of cheap, coarse stuff, blue overalls, black vest, some of the buttons oft ; neck-tie crooked, black skull-cap ; long grey hair, white eyebrows, discolored face, hoarse voice. Act III. : Workhouse suit of dark blue serge ; jacket, vest, loose trousers, shoes, cap, with peak ; hair whiter than before. Charley. —Acts I. and II. • Grey trousers, with dark brown stripe down the seam ; white vest, dark brown velvet cutaway coat, watch and chain ; moustache (at pleasure). Act III.: Suit of black, long moustache and heavy beard; hat, black gloves. Bob Gassitt. —Acts I. and II. : A sporting man. Black cutaway coat, black low- crowned hat, light brown pants, with black stripe down the seam ; black vest, fancy neck-tie, with pin ; bright metal buttons to vest and coat ; watch and chain, fancy silver-mounted riding-whip; moustache (at pleasure). Act III.: Cane, suit of black, small black whiskers, hat, buckskin gloves. Old Bolter.— Sea-captain's shore clothes, dark blue coat and vest with brass but- tons ; blue trousers, shoes , an old-fashioned hat, watch-chain, white neck-tie. Mr. KEDGELY.-Suit of blaci, white cravat, black gloves, sandy side-whiskers, grey wig, eye-glass, watch-chain. A Guest.— Suit of black ; white tie, gloves. Mrs. Garner.-^cis). Mr. Gassitt here 7 (quickly) Charley is not in at present. Gassitt. I don't mind stopping here for him. Charley don't appre- ciate his home's attractions like some others would, (sings in a low tone) Fol lol lol ! Lucy (aside). How annoying ! I do detest this fellow. Gassitt. Not that I wish he was altered in that respect. Lucy. If there is any thing you want me to convey to him Gassitt. Now if you were a young lady (Lucy starts) I should ask you to convey something (sings as before, fol lol lol, etc.) You twig 1 Lucy. I do not understand your elegant phraseology. Gassitt. Elegant phraseology ! Here's good language, more fit for a gilded saloon than a back parlor ! I meant, don't you understand 1 My language may not be tip-top, but I always speak my mind. Lucy. Speak your mind 1 Then that's why you generally speak such rubbish ! (turns away.) Gassitt. Miss Lucy, don't go. I want a word with you. Lucy. We are very busy to-day, sir, and Gassitt. I know ! But I can't bear that you should be left in ignor- ance here. The fact is, you're superior to this sort of life ! You were not "born to blush unseen and waste your sweetness on the " Old Kent Road! (c.) Lucy. It's very kind of you to say so ! (aside) Really, he is the most disagreeable young man I ever knew ! (r. c.) Gassitt (aside). I am evidently making an impression here ! (aloud) Your friends are a good sort — Mr. and Mrs. Garner — and Charley, the old boy himself, is rather warm, eh ] Lucy (aside). I know I am getting so ! Gassitt. All very well in their way, but not what I call first-class ! Why, even Charley is ashamed of them at times ! Lucy. Is he 1 Gassitt. Yes ! Lucy (fiercely). Well, then, Charley has no cause to be ashamed of his parents, whatever he has of his friends. Gassitt. You're a vitty vun, you are! Ha, ha! (pause) Do you ever go to the theatre 1 Lucy (shortly). Why do you ask 1 Gassitt. Why, I have got a friend who is a professional. He some- times gives me an order. What would you say if I was to call round friendly-like and offer to take you ! I'd square Charley. He prefers a game at billiards to spending the evening in an intellectual manner ! Lucy. Allow me, in the first place, to thank you for the generous way in which you have offered to " square " Charley. ACT I. 7 Gassitt. Not at all ! Lucy. But let me add, that when I am taken to the play, I like to be paid for ! (her tone growing more and more sarcastic') It* it is all the same to you, I prefer " an intellectual evening " at home ! I dare say there are some young ladies who would take your invitation as an honor. When I call it an impertinence, attribute it to my want of taste ! [Bow and exit R. by stairs. Gassitt. Ah ! you stuck-up piece of fol-lal impudence ! Who do you think you are, I should like to know 1 You suppose some young ladies would take my proposal as an honor 1 I should think they w< uld ! Why, you couldn't be grander if you owned a whole row of freehold cottages ! There's nothing like landed property for fostering pride ! That for your, grand airs, (snaps Jiggers, goes up L. c). Hitter r. by stairs, Charley. Charley. Ah! are you there, Bob 1 (puts his hat on side-board up c.) Gassitt (l. c, up). Yes. (shortly.) Charley. Talking to yourself? Gassitt. Don*t you mind who ! Charley. Well, I don't ! Gassitt. Very well, then ! I can see you are in one of your nice kneck-me-down tempers to-day, Master Charley ! Charley. What if I am, Master Bob ? Gassitt. Nothing ; all the better! You couldn't be worse if you heard that Sunbeam is scratched ! Charley. You don't mean he 1 Gassitt (carelessly). The rumors are beginning to fly around. I shall hedge. Charley. They dare not have sold it ! Gassitt. All right, if you say they daren't ! You are so uncommon sharp, you are. Accidents happen with the best-regulated horses, and I not being a leg used to being broken, like to stand on the safe side. Charley. If you have only come to talk nonsense, why Gassitt. Say it ! Tell me to get out ! Charley. No ; I don't mean that. I've been troubled to-day. I'm all out of sorts. But what's put you out 1 Gassitt. Well, the fact is, your fine-lady cousin, Miss Lucy, has be- haved .uncommon rude to me. Charley. It's the other way about, I guess. Gassitt. There's some satisfaction when a man is impudent to you, 'cause you can punch his head. Charley. Well, suppose I'm the man, if you want to punch heads, and punch mine, if you can ! Gassitt. Hullo ! Master Charley, are you coming the bounce, too 1 Charley. If I knew what it was you had been saying to her, I'd make you beg her pardon ! Gassitt. Make me beg — bah ! I never begged any one's pardon in my life ! Get out ! Charley. Then, I'll make you beg now! (seizes Gassitt by the throat.) Enter d. in l., Michael Garner. Garner. Hullo ! hullo ! hul — lo ! boys, boys, boys ! (Gassitt and Charley separate, and Gassitt goes to l. a little, Charley to r. c, Mi- chael down c.) Has Bedlam broke loose, or has the Thames set itself afire I 8 DEABEK THAN LIFE. Come, come, you're not in earnest with your going into gymnastics 1 You're not in sober earnest 1 Gassitt {sullenly). No, we were only in play, weren't we, Charley 1 Charley {sullenly). Only in play, that's all ! Garner. Only in play 1 That's what the man said what kept the menagerie, what had the two rale Bengal tigers, that set to chawing one another on the floor of their cage. ' It's only their play!'' he said, says he. It might have been hony their play, but as neither on 'em ever got up agin', it looked like earnest to the houtside public ! Now, boys, what does the poetry say about it 1 " Let dogs delight," he says, " to bark and bite," he says ; " but little children's hands," he says, " were never made," he says, " to punch each other's eyes," he says. Gassitt (l. by mantelpiece, contemptuously). Yes, I learnt all that when I was a young 'un. Garner {eyeglass up, looking at Gassitt). When you was a young 'un! And an uncommon fine young 'un you must have been ! A remarkably fine babby ! Gassitt. Why so ? Garner. Why, don't you know that it's a regular thing that the men and women that was uncommon lovely in their babbyhood grow up into ugly ones, and wisey-wersy. Now it strikes me in that light, that you must have been a beauty when you were little ! Gassitt. Oh, if you are inclined to have a joke at my expense, I'll go Garner {changing his tone). Oh, now ! there's no one to take anything at any one's expense except mine, this day ! This day is the anniversary of that when I married that young rascal's mother {indicates Charley, r. of him) twenty-seven years ago ! I want everybody to be pleasant and sociable this day. Gassitt {gives Garner his hand). I wish you many of them, old gen- tleman ! Garner. Now, that's what I call hearty ; ain't it Charley 1 But I say, you were really not in earnest that little while ago when I caught you at one another's throttles ? Charley. How could you think it, father? Garner. Humph ! There's one thing I should like. I should like to see you shake hands. If there's one thing in the world that's pleasant and agreeable, it's to see friends shaking hands, {brings hands of Gassitt and Charley together.) There ! doesn't that feel comfortable 7 You must promise us, as Charley's friend, that you will give us a look in? Gassitt. Unless I have to attend to business. Garner. Business ! Pshaw ! I wont hear of the word on this day. Business ! on the twenty-seventh anniversary of an intimate friend's father — no, of a father's intimate friends — no? of a son's father's— Charley, help me out, won't you 1 Charley. I suppose you mean that you would like him to stop? Garner. That's the right thing. Not that we're very partial to you, but -Hem ! Garner {to Gassitt). You will come ? I can see by the look of your face that you can sing a good comic song, and there's a conumdrum and a riddle in the corner of your eye ! Charley. You'll excuse me, father, but I don't think that Mr. Gassitt's riddles or songs would suit our company ! Gassitt {carelessly). Oh, dear, no ! If you want any harmony, just ask Charley to contribute some of the verses with which he gratifies the choice spirits of the Convivial Coveys' Club every Friday evening ! {goes act i. y Garner. Friday evening ! Why, Charley, I thought you attended Mon- sieur Montalembert's French class every Friday night 1 (to Gassitt) Then you will look in 1 Gassitt. Perhaps I shall, (lounges up to d. in f.). Garner {goes up io v>. in f.). Put it plainer. Gassitt. Very likely, then ! (Exit d. in f.) Garner [at r>. in f.). Don't put yourself out about it ! (comes down c.) Where did you pick that fellow up, Charley 1 I don't like him. Charley. Oh, he's a little rough, father, but not a bad sort. Garner. I don't like your rough diamonds! What's the good of going through the world with a surly phiz to everybody 1 Whenever I come across one of these sullen parties, I says to myself: " My hearty, you may have a very sweet kernel, when one gets at It, but life is too short for Michael Garner to waste his time in cracking you!' 1 I like to see cheer- ful looks and to hear pleasant words ! more than all on to-day. Charley. 1 suppose that's a dig at me, because I don't go snickering about like a great girl ! (r.) Oh, thank you for the hint. Garner. A hint! I never meant to give you a hint! Why, Charley, you know nothing could be further from me than any idea of giving you a hint ! Charley. It is rather hard to find an enemy m one's own lather ! (sul- lenly.) Garner. An enemy — Char — (checJcs himself, solemnly) The only enemy you have is your o^ nself ! You make me tell you — I did not want to say anything about it on a day like this — but here is a letter I received about you. Charley. A letter — about me — father 1 (agitated.) Garner. Hullo ! What are you going into hysterics about 1 It ain't a warrant for murder or forgery 1 Charley (aside). Forgery ! Garner. If I had known it was going to have such an effect upon you, I would not have produced it at all. Charley (me hand on table, r. c, convulsively). Let me know the worst ! Would you torture me 1 Garner. Torture you 1 Torture you, Charley 1 What's all this high- flown talk for, when it's Mullins sent in his bilH He says if you don't pay for the tailoring he will go to the extremity of the law. Charley (laughs, relieved, but forcedly). Ha, ha, ha! the tailor ! Is that ain Garner. Well, it may be a devilish good joke, but I can't see it ! Charley. All this serious preamble about a tuppenny ha'penny tail- or's bill ! Ha, ha ! Garner. A tupenny ha'penny! It's a bill that any swell in the land might be proud on ! Forty-seven pounds odd- — r Charley. Pooh! Mullins had no business to send you the bill — he shan't have any more of my custom ! Garner. Oh, thafs right, then ! That will happen which has happened so many times before; I will have to pay the bill ! I know it, and I wont refuse ; but when is this to stop, Charley 7 Fine clothes is not for the likes of you, and fast living should be left to, not our, but the betters ! See here, you've got so good a young woman awaiting for. you when you de- termine to settle down and begin life in earnest. You have a mother whose only fault is that she loves you too well. I love you. too, but a mother's love is a precious thing — a religion in itself ! When our two little ones were lost, and we had only you, we did not regret them so much, while 4 you grew up lusty and, strong. Charley, my son, on this twenty-seventh anniversary of the happiest day in all my life, make it 10 DEARER THAN LIFE. brighter by promising to turn over a new leaf! 1 have kept ever so many reports of your ill conduct from your mother, who doats on you ! I have told her many a falsehood for your sake ; do let me now have the truth to tell of you ! I implore you, 1 beg of you to change your life I Pro- mise me ! You can't want to break her heart and mine — hers, because you are to her dearer than life ! Charley. Well, I don't know what I have done to deserve all this. Garner {with vehemence). Done! You don't know what you have done! You've broken my heart — that's what you have done ! You've sullied the good name and fame I built up with a hard-working life ! that's what you have done ! You have made me live one long lie — telling your mother what you were not, while it choked me! That's what you have done ! Oh, sir, I am speaking plain English ! You've shown to me that yon go to idleness — perhaps to crime 1 Charley. Crime ! Garner. That's what you've done ! Charley. These are harsh and bitter words, father ! Garner. Truth is harsh and bitter ! You've filled the cup to over- flowing — drink of it as it comes. Charley. I work ! I go to business like other young men Garner. You go to business 1 Why if a shopboy of mine had behaved to me as you have to Crisp & Kedgeley, I'd — I'd have taken him by the scruff of the neck and flung him out of doors — aye, long ago ! It is only out of respect for me that they have kept you up to now. Charley. I did think that we might pass over one happy day for once in a while — this was the last one I thought you would choose to pitch into me. Garner. Perhaps I have been rather violent, but, there ! I'll try to think the best of you ! don't let your mother know what has happened — it would spoil the day for her. Hush ! she is coming. Laugh — look cheerful. I won't speak a word of it to her ! Enter, r. by stairs, Mrs. Garner. Mrs. Garner. Ah ! here is the truant, (embraces Charley) My dear boy, I knew you could not keep away from us on such a day as this ! Charley. Don't rumple my collar, please ! I shall go out and have a smoke before the company comes. Mrs. Garner. Not to fume the rooms 1 Oh, there's consideration for you! (r. c.) Garner, (l.). Charley, smoking is a very bad habit. Mrs. Garner (fondly). Oh, let him, if he wants to ! Charley (taking his hat up c, and lighting cigar). Oh, its a mild thing, only a cigarette ! Garner. A sickrette ! What do they call it that for 1 because it makes you ill 1 Charley. I'll be back soon. [Exit, carelessly, d. in f. Mrs. Garner. Ah, Michael ! he wasn't born for our line of life ! Garner. I don't think he was, my dear ! Mrs. Garner. How very kind of him not to smoke his cigar in the room ! Garner. Hem ! he lighted it before he went out. Mrs. Garner. We must humor him a little. You know, Michael, how we lost our two little ones. Garner. Yes, my dear ! (a) Mrs. G. And Charley's so delicate ! Garner, Just as you please, my dear. Now, then, to be agreeable ACT I. 11 again ! What do you say to somebody's investing his money in a present, all through remembering that this was the twenty-seventh anniversary of the marriage of a certain lady who shall be nameless for the present oc- casion ] (gives jewel case.) Mrs. G. Oh! ain't they beautiful ! Garner. I say, ain't it of a size, though 1 You have got your money's worth. Mrs. G. Magnificent! Garner. They're extra pressure, double-distilled diamonds, if you like ! Mrs. G. And I do like ! Garner. Now, who do you suppose found that for you 1 Mrs. G. Why Garner (eagerly). Yes, yes. Mrs. G. Charley, of course ! Garner. Eh 1 Oh, of course, of course ! (gayly.) Wasn't it thoughtful of the young dog 1 Mrs. G. Dear Charley, he is ever so thoughtful ! Garner. We were going along when we saw this splendid article in a jeweler's shop — a regular blaze in the window — endangering the insur- ance ! Thinks I to myself, " Here's the old woman without any jewelry at home, when, why need she be 1 " so in I goes Mrs. G. In Charley goes, you mean ! Garner. Eh 1 oh, aye, in Charley goes, of course. He outs with his money, slaps it down, and the brooch was mine — Charley's I mean ! So, here's strength to bear it, health to wear it, and wealth to get another one when it's gone ! I'll go in to rig up, mother Mrs. G. (aside, musing). My boy 1 ever good and kind and thoughtful — ah ! (by table, r. c. front.) Garner (aside). She's not listening to a word I say ! She is thinking of the dead little ones, and of our living hope, Charley, Charley ! always Charley! (at foot of stairs, r.) She's in the clouds. My darling wife, may nothing ever shatter your idol — it would break your heart ! No doubt of it, no doubt ! [Exit r. by stairs. Enter, d. in f., Uncle Ben, coming down c, in a drunken state. Mrs. Garner (starts). Oh, you here, Ben 1 Look here, wasn't it thoughtful of Charley to save up his money to buy me this beautiful pres- ent ] (gives Ben the jewel-case.) Ben (maudlin). So he's been wasting money on you, has hel Ah ! you are all rolling in the lap of luxury, but you never think of making a pres- ent to your poor old nunkey. Nobody gives me a brooch. Nobody gives me anything. I wouldn't have nothing — except it was for what I took. Mrs. G. I am ashamed of you, Ben you know what to-day is, and that Michael particularly begged of you to keep sober and pleasant. Ben. So I am sober (hie) and pleasa it. (smiles) Is this real gold ? (brooch m hand, Mrs. Garner nods) Boo'ful, boo'ful ! What's it's use 1 Mrs. G. Use ! why, it's an ornament, Ben. Ben. Ah, nobody ever gives me an ornament. Mrs. G. I should think not, indeed. Whv. Ben, you had a beaitifu] watch once^as large as a saucer, and what did you do with it 1 Jsen. Give it away. Mrs. G. Sold it for drink. Ben Give me a try with this. I'll keep this ' Mrs. G. Indeed you'll not; give it back to me ! 12 DEARER. THAN LIFE. Ben {shifting brooch to left hand, farthest from Mrs. Garner\ No ! it's time you gave me something. Mrs. G. Oh. very well, steal it then ! It won't be the first time ! Ben. What do you mean 1 Mrs. G. You'll drive me to mention the many little things I have missed, just after you have paid us a visit. Ben. Just for that, you shan't have it now. Mrs. G. Give me that back directly, sir! (seizes Ben's wrists, struggle.) Ben. You would, would you, you vixen ! Ah ! Enter Charley, d. in f., pushes Ben, who falls l. by fireplace, one arm on chair, and takes Mrs. Garner in his arms. Charley. What does this mean, mother 1 Mrs. G. Oh, nothing of any consequence, (picks up brooch and case, which have fallen.) Ben (still down). Strike roe ! strike me ! pitch into my grey hairs ! What's age, ungrateful young man, what's age, what's venerableness, what's decrepitation to you 7 Mrs. G. He's had too much again. Don't mind him, Charley. Charley. He's not had half enough. Look here, Mr. Ben Garner, when you can keep yourself moderately sober, we can tolerate your com- pany. You are not in that condition now, so you had better go ! Ben (rises). So you turn me out — turn me out like a cur 1 Charley (sneering). Yes, very like a cur. Ben (working himself up into a passion till his final outburst at close of Act). Very good ! you dare to talk like that to your elder ! you, a loafer, a scoundrel, a low, mean-spirited loafer ! oh, let him come on and strike me again. You think him all that is good ! the pink of perfection ! ha, ha ! Cling to your belief, cling to your idol, though he turns guiltily away. You've struck me, and all the drink in the world won't wash that out. If you stood in the dock and a word of mine could save you, I'd tear my tongue out rather than speak it. (Charley, r. c, confounded, Mrs. Garner paralyzed with terror, c.) Love him still, now, if you can love him, trust in him ! but I'll never forgive him — I'll never forgive him ! I'll never forgive him. (stands trembling out of breath, up l. c.) Michael and Lucy enter r. by stairs. Michael throws Ben up l. c. and takes in his arms Mrs. Garner, who faints with a scream. All form picture. jUCY.* Mrs. G* ♦Ben. * Garner. * Charley. » » B. C C. L. C. ACT II. IS ACT II. SCENE. — Same as Act I., discovering Lucy seateu, at table r. c.frotib, C'di 7 :*- ley L., by fireplace. Charley. We are the envy of our neighbors for our nice, quiet, happy home ! They ought to have heard Uncle Ben. Lucy {gently). There is a skeleton in every family, Charley. Charley. The skeleton needn't be always druuk! Lucy. Oh, Charley ! Charley. To come in and drive mother out of her wits with his drunk- en ravings. He's almost upset me for the day. Lucy. There's something else troubles you, Charley, (to Charley, l.) Charley. You're a good girl, Lucy ; too good for me ! Don't annoy me, though. Lucy. What have you on your mind 1 I wish you would confide in me, Charley. Charley. There are some things, Lucy, which are not to be confided in another. Don't ask me more. Lucy. I will not if you do not wish it ; but (hesitatingly) is it money, Charley — a — a debt 1 Charley. Yes, yes, a debt — a heavier one than I can pay ! (half aside.) Lucy. I will leave you alone since you wish it, Charley, (reluctantly going to foot of stairs, r., aside) I half guessed his trouble. I'll surprise the whole secret next. I am going ! [Exit r., by stairs. Charley (by table, r. c, front). I wear my disaster on my face. She reads it — she's so guileless and unsuspecting. Her sympathy tortures me. Oh, if I win this time, I'll give it all the go-by forever ! If I lose — oh, that's not to be thought of ! (falls into chair, arms on table, sullenly thinking.) Enter, d. in f., Gassitt. Gassitt (coming down to Charley, aside). There he is in a pleasant fit ! He can't have heard the news ! Charley. I thought you were not going to come back. Gassitt. " The wish was parent, Charley, to the thought !" Hem ! Shak- speare ! I wouldn't have come though, only I thought you had better hear the news. Charley. Something bad, by your manner. Gassitt. Bad to some. Sunbeam is scratched ! • Charley. Then I am lost — lost — lost ! (falls into chair.) Gassitt. So am I ! We're both in the same boat. We had best take care we shan't be found. Charley (rises). It's a swindle — a made-up affair ! I'll never bet on a horse again ! Fool that I am, it's just my luck ! (crosses to l., excitedly.) Gassitt. I wouldn't have fared any better if I had not hedged. Charley. It's the devil's money ; no good ever came of it. (l., by mantel.) Gassitt. (c). Oh, if you've come to preaching and ride the high moral horse, I suppose you'll repudiate your little obligation to me ! Charley. No ! I owe it you. and I'll pay you. Only give me time. Gassitt. Ah ! time, eh 1 Time is money — you've had that of me — I can't give you both. I must go away. I have lost heavy sums. Some- how or other, all my knowing calculations have gone wrong. You have not done much of late to make me show vou consideration, (up c, lights 14 DEARER THAN LIFE. cigar with match carelessly.) You have often bled your father for yourself; now do as much again for your friend. Charley. My friend 1 Gassitt. Yes, your friend, one that will stick to you, to«, to the end ! Charley (gently). Come, Bob, I have been worried more than you can think for lately. Let up a little on me. Gassitt. Don't mind my ways — you ought to know me by this time. (they shake hands. ) Charley. I ought to know you — (aside) but I don't. Gassitt. Your father will be coming in directly. He'll do anything for you on such a day as this. Pitch into him while he is jolly ; I'll look in again, (at d. in p.) Ta, ta ! ta, ta ! [Exit d. in f., lounging. . Charley (c.) My last hope knocked from under me. I believe this fellow's my evil genius ! If it were not for him, I — oh, what a fool I have been, (seated r. c, by table) What a fool ! Enter Lucy by stairs, r. Lucy. Charley ! (to Cuarley) There is something wrong. I wish you would trust me. A sorrow is only half a sorrow when it is shared with a friend. What is the matter 1 Charley. Don't ask me 1 Lucy. But I do ask you! You are distressed on the very day when Uncle wants us all to be most happy. Tell me all. Charley. I dare not! Lucy. I will be silent. Perhaps I can find you a way out of it. Charley. Not you ! Lucy. Is — is the — the amount of the debt very large 1 Charley. Overwhelming ! Lucy. Charley — you don't know that Aunty has been putting by a sum of money for me — for you and me — it is the savings for years — and such a large sum now ! She would only be glad to save you pain, if she knew it, but she need not hear the truth. Suppose I was to get it for you. Charley. I may break my mother's heart — but I will not take the savings she has been putting together for you ! Lucv. For you — and me, Charley. Charley. No ! that would only be adding to it another crime. Lucy. Crime ! I won't allow you to use such words, sir ! Charley. Then again for the money to be of any use I must have it to-day. Lucy. To-day! Oh, you are in a hurry, Master Charley. ( playfully) I must tell Aunty, first, (r. by foot of stairs) and get the money from her. I'll say you are going to invest it in some company — that will magnifv it immensely. Charley (embraces her). You are a good girl, Lucy — far too good for me. I wish that I had known — (kisses her.) Enter, v. in f., Garner. Garner. Ah, ha, ha, ha ! I see you. Go on with it— I'll turn my head the other way. (comes down c.) If you do have any of it left, Miss Lucy, lett me be custom -r number two. (Lucy kisses him) Ah ! there's an appe- tizer! talk of your sherry and bitters, and rour tonic in vigorators! oh! it quite takes one's breath away ! (pit's his hat on sideboard, up c.) Lucy (to b. to Charley). I'll be back soon, with it! \Exit r. by stairs. ACT II. 15 Garner. Ah ! there's a girl you'd have to look far and near for the match to, without running against very sudden. There's not a girl in the neighborhood fit to hold a candle to her. She s one of those girls- — (l. c.) Charley (r., impatiently). She is-— she is Garner. I say, she is one of those girls—— Charley. Exactly so ! she's Garner. Well, perhaps, on the twenty-seventh anniversary, an event which was mainly the means of introducing you to the public, you will permit your father to finish his observation. You are all the time cor- recting me in my manners — but I don't think your gentility has much to brag on ! It puts me in mind of the modern young lady's complexion— it's more put on than natural. Charley. Do look over it ! You know how I have caught it from all quarters to-day. Garner. Then it's all blown over. Why, your mother has forgotten that dreadful scene of old Ben's ravings, and believes it was only his drunken talk. Charley. Uncle Ben ! I wonder you permit him to come here — the broken-down old reprobate. Garner Let me tell you that Uncle Ben was once as fine a young fellow as ever stepped ; but he was dragged down to what you seen him now, all along of bad company. Charley. I wish, then, he'd stick to his company and leave us alone. Garner. But time's getting on. We must titivate ourselves a little for the company, (looks at ivatcJi) Bolter ought to be here. He generally is oncommon punctual. Charley. Is Bolter coming'? Garner. I should rather think he was a-coming ! Charley. The rough sea captain with the boisterous voice — beginning speeches he never finishes and songs that never have an end. Garner. Well, you amuse me, Charley. Why, Bolter is generally invited out on account of his voice. Charley. 1 wish somebody had invited him out to-day ! Garner. There's Mrs. Mingle — you haven't anything to say of her ? . Charley. No more than she has of herself! She sll i a'.i <>r an evening with only one speech to each cup of tea. Garner. Let me tell you I knew Mrs. Mingle when she was a remark- ably fine young woman. Charley. What a pity she did not continue so. Garner. Well, you do amuse me ! Charley. Anybody else coming 1 Garner. To be sure, there's the Miss Chigleys Charley. Oh! the Misses Chigley, a pair of little milk-and-water chits who have just life enough to make matters worse by trying to ape good breeding. Garner. Well, you really do amuse me, Charley ! You couldn't carry it on better if you were the emperor of all the Russias or the man what. wrote the Etiquette book. I don't mind it, but, as the little boy said ; whose mother kep' a lodging-house, when the first floor, as was a posture maker, took to balancing the table on the tip of his nose — the wonder is. " How you keep it up 1" Enter, d. in f., Bolter ; in a rough, hearty way comes to take Garner's hand, Bolter. Here he is, and he's brought himself all along with him. Garner. T hope I see you well. JBoL^rR. The same to you. an 1 many on 'em! 16 DEARER THAN LIFE. Garner. Thank you, old boy ! I know you mean it! Bolter. How many does it make of 'em now 1 Garner. Twenty-seven! Bolter. No ! Garner. Fact! Bolter. Young man, (to Charley) when you come to being married twenty-seven times Garner {laughing). Married twenty-seven times ! ho, ho ! Bolter. Yes, married twenty-seven years Charley (r.). Well, when I am Bolter. What 1 Eh ! Oh, he's fairly frightened the rest of it out of me. Hang me if I know what I was going to say ! (takes snuff.} Garner (to Charley). Don't catch him up so, don't catch him up ! Enter, r., by stairs, Mrs. Garner and Lucy. Enter, d. in v., Mrs. Mingle, the Chigleys, and the Guest, who are received by Lucy. Mrs. Min- gle takes seat l., by fire .* Mrs. Garner (to Bolter). Why, Harry Bolter, how are you 1 (shakes hands.) Botler. Is this you, on the twenty-seventh anniversary. Why, I wouldn't have known you! You're getting younger and younger every day ! You're improving, mum ! actually improving, mum ! In a manner of speaking (catches Charley's eye, which confuses him) In a — a — manner of — of — speaking Charley (half aside). In a manner of breaking down, I should say ! Garner. Ha, ha ! he's a sort of a wit, Charley is ! (to Charley, cross- ing r.) Don't catch him up so ! He's on old friend, and I won't have him catched up ! Bolter. On the occasion, mum, I've brought you a little present. • (gives box.) Mrs. Garner. How sweet ! Oh, Harry Bolter, you were always an extravagant young fellow, (crosses l., to slioiv box to Mrs. Mingle and Lucy.) Bolter. It's not much, mum, but the value of a present is made more by the spirit that prompts the making it. Garner. A very pretty sentiment! With your beautiful flow of lan- ( guage, Bolter, my boy, you ought to have married long ago ! Bolter. Ah, Michael, the only woman I ever cared for you know all about. Garner (chuckling). Yes, I cut you out, you old hunks ! Do you re- member the fight we had behind the cowshed when I gave you the black \ eye, and you told the clergyman that you got it by running your face against the handle of the pump ! (he and Bolter laugh together.) Do you know I can't help think we were happier together, when poor boys, in the purer, better air of the country, than ever after when we had come up to the great noisy city to make our fortunes 1 Bolter (shakes hands with Garner). Not a doubt on it, Michael, not a doubt ! Charley (merrily). I should think men of experience like you were above the common error, long ago exploded, of rustic simplicity ! Garner (aside to Charley). Don't catch him up ! Guest— Chigleys [at back.) Lucy. Charley. Mrs. Gaxner. Bolter. Garner. Mrs. Mingle, r. c. c. l, c. l. . -■/'■ ACT II. 17 Charley. Ain't innocence in our sisters here as it was in our mothers down there 1 Don't a country dog hold on when he's gripped like a town-bred one 1 Of course he does ! Ain't one just as good as the other 1 (half aside) I'm ashamed of you ! Garner (to Charley). I tell you I won't have him catched up ! (to Bolter, soothingly) This is the way sons talk to their fathers in this nine- teenth century! Eolter. Yes, they do, if we permit them, (aside, looking at Charley) That's for you, young man ! (takes snuff.) Garner (takes snuff). Is this some of the same rare old ? Bolter. The same old, Michael! It'll last our time! (offers box to Charley politely.) Charley (takes snuff with distaste). Why do you persist in offering peo- ple such abominable stuff"? Enter, D. in f., Gassitt, lounging down l. c. Bolter. Abomi (checks himself) I should think, my young sir, you could be more civil to an old friend. Charley (contemptuously). An old friend — of my father ! Bolter. Yes, your father's old friend! For you to be ashamed of them, your friends must be a decidedly superior lot. (turns and finds Gas- sitt at his left side) This, I should say, was one of them. (2Jause.) Gassitt. Well, old gentleman, I hope you will know me next time "? Bolter (emphatically). Next time 1 I beg your pardon, I don't know you now ! (goes up c. to converse tvith others ) Gassitt (asiele). Well, this is about the nicest house I ever went into. I never come without being insulted. Charley (to Gassitt). I see, you couldn't stay away. Gassitt (insolently). On second thoughts, I thought I'd keep an eye on you. (up c, and lounges up to r. with Charley ; they converse, note-book in play, etc.) Garner (comes down c, jovially). What's the next move on the board 1 Lucy. I move that we adjourn to the dining room. Garner. Yes, there's lemonade and sherry and what you like for a sharpener before the meal ; but don't spoil your appetites. Sally and Lucy have been out-doing themselves for the spread to-day. Bolter. Oh ! I've brought my appetite. 1 think it but a poor compli- ment to go out to a dinner without one. Mrs. Mingle (waking up). I say so, too ! Garner. Well for you, ma'am ! (to Bolter) And then we'll have all the old songs — Poor Tom Bowling, the Death of Nelson Bolter. I've got them all — I'm in capital voice, and I've made a new verse to the Honest Man. Garner. A new vers'e to the — (eagerly to Mrs. Garner) Do you hear that, Sally ! Bolter's gone and made a new verse to the Honest Man ! Why, it wouldn't seem like the twenty-seventh anniversary at all, unless we had the HonestJVIan ! How does it go 1 (laughable attempt to get at a tune by " la-la-la-ing " at it) La, la, la, etc. Bolter. No, that's not it. (begins to hum ttme ) Garner. Oh ! give us a verse of it — plenty of time before dinner is ready. A sort of rehearsal. All. Oh, do, Mr. Bolter. (Bolter sings* with feeling) Charley. Gassitt. Guest. Miss Chtgley. L.TJCY. Mrs. G. Bolter. Garner. Mrs. M. B - *• o. c. l. c. L. 18 liEAKJJK TI1A-V LIFE, THE HONEST MAN. Allegro modcrato. ^ ^^^ I ■ ^Al t-l\ 0±0 j - J-L_( 1 -W { — «_1 # -^ , S_L # ^ — [-IX. i^S^g ^ ^ fefe^Erfi^g^: : q 1. They may talk about health, They may brag about wealth, Of re - \=5=i~- Z:4rSr-*r 9-^ t=t ■r-.-ii—M g " #* :4=* • #-?-#- ^ ]atioii8 6o tine and so grand . . But much better by far,Than those i S - ^&r &" : ■* ■* — , r * — r- 1 P 5^J 1=4- iT^T & at -tributes are, Is the grasp of an honest hand.... Foi ESjEEf^f - — « -&- ,-a-f 3@=3t O 7* I tz±rfcb=H ACT II. *"*- iZ^v ^-^- ^ pz=iivzgB =^-^ 19 ^^m money is spent, And it's lost, and it's lent, And confirm th nt remark m aiy 1J-& i I" 77* H ' — ** i 1 — ^- St§ i \ / i HV ,0 *-J =N-^i c:tn. Lies may Iny on ttic lip, Bnttliere'strathin the.errp, Oftlie £T = P= m/" S : -fr * 3J=£ =P=F W==£rgt±: ■S-V0- . chorus. §=&5 ^m=&mmm t] grasp of nn honest man. For money is spent. And it's mmsm T& =33=f=EEE^zl ^^11= lostand it's lent, And confirm that .remark many can, Lies may hang on the -I 0.-0 1 I • 0- £=«-*-€ -*-.— — h — h — 9 - -0.-0- &=* -%^£± %■ m -&. «--•- 20 i>j<;akkk than life. A=£E I lip, But there's truth in the grip, Of the grasp of an honest man. ©-- ^3=S£ ^r*-T* ^=tr^^g (liiiEiis ■*■.-#--#■ When one's in the world, and invectives are hurl'd at your head by your friends and your foes : Then you find at that time, to be poor is a crime, a worse one than you would suppose ; When you're poverty's slave, there's to make you feel brave, and your flickering courage to fan, Why you'll find beyond price is the grip, like a vise in the grasp of an honest man. {shakes Garner's hand.) Garner. Now, then, all together ! CHORUS. When yon re poverty's slave, there's to make you fee! brave and your flickering courage to fan, Why you'll find beyond price is the grip, like a vise in the grasp of an honest man. During the ritorneUe of the accompaniment, Garner arranges the Guests by twos. Garner. There you are! you with this lady. (Guest and Mrs Min- gle. Gassitt and Charley keep up r. AU the others exeunt r. by stairs 9 a yiy>) Garner. Now, then, secure your ladies for dinner. You'll have time for something sweet to clear your throat, Bolter. ACT II. 21 Bolter. I want nothing ; was I ever in better voice 1 Garner. Why, there's nobody left for you. Here, take my arm ! {they go arm-in-arm to r. Sings) " Firm is the grip, the grasp of an honest man !" [They exeunt r., by stairs. Music dies away. Charley. That song grates on my nerves ! {seated, r. c, by table, think- ing) If I do not arrange it to-day. all will be discovered to-morrow. What shall I do 1 Enter, d. in f., Gassitt. Gassitt (aside). They're all gone, are they 1 (romes to Charley, taps him on the left shoulder as a police officer does) Wake up ! Charley (starts tip). Ha! what's that 1 ? (recognizes Gassitt) You! Gassitt. You start as if you were took for felony. Charley. Felony 1 What do you mean 1 Gassitt. Nothing. What should a friend mean 1 You ought to know me by this time. Charley. I ought to know you, but I don't, (goes to r., at foot of stairs) Well, will you join us 1 [Exit by stairs. Gassitt (aside). Join you ! I'd rather part you any day ! You marry Lucy ! Not if I can prevent it ! I wonder what makes me think so much of her 1 I never did of any other girl. Somehow or other, be- side her I feel like a regular low, common fellow ! She's something su- perior, quite above me. Ah ! Lucy, the day you make a happy man of Charley Garner, you'll make a broken-hearted one of Bob Gassitt. (c.) But you're not married yet, not yet! Enter, d. in v., Kedgely. ' Kedgely. I beg your pardon, is Mr. Garner in 1 Gassitt. No, sir ! (aside, surprised) Mr. Kedgely ! It must be some- thing uncommon to bring him here at such a time ! (aloud) Unless your business is particular, Mr. Garner would hardly like to be disturbed. Kedgely. It is very important. Gassitt. They are celebrating an anniversary of the old people's wedr ding. Kedgely. Poor old man ! Gassitt. It's no business that I could do for you 1 Kedgely. No! Be so good as to tell Mr. Garner at once that I must see him. Gassitt (aside). It's some scrape Charley's got into, I'll stand to win on ! (aloud) Is it a message I can give 1 Is it anything I can do 1 Kedgely. Yes, there is one thing you can much oblige my by Gassitt. And it is Kedgely. To get out ! (looks Gassitt in the eye. and Gassitt turns away, r. Enter, r., by stairs, Garner, gayly. Garner. Mr. Gassitt, we are one short at the dinner-table, and (comes down stairs, aside) Mr. Kedgely, here ! Kedgely (takes Garner's hand, half aside). My poor friend ! (c.) Gassitt. (at d. at head of stairs, aside.) Now for it ! (listens there awhile, then exits.) Kedgely. Now, that that highly objectionable young man has gone, 1 will come at once to the point, Mr. Garner. I want to talk with you Garner. Yes, sir. (aside) My boy's master. I really feel quite trenv bling without knowing why. 22 DEABEB THAN LIFE. Kkdgely. You can leave the company of your friends for a few min- utes 1 Garner. Yes, sir, for a few — few minutes, sir. (agitated.) Kedgely (hand on Garner's shoulder, kindly). My poor old friend, pre- pare yourself for a great shock. Garner. Not — Charley 1 Kedgelt. Charley ! You know that we have had, at various times, to make complaints of him. Garner. I know it, sir. And I know your kindness to him. But I have had a talk with him on this day — the anniversary of his dear moth- er's marriage. He is much improved ; he really is improving ! he is very contrite. Kedgelt. Would that I could think so. Garner. Don't you think so, sir ? Oh, for the sake of his mother, do try to think so ! Give him another trial. We were all young once, and did our little follies. Try him again, sir — you'll find him really improv- ed. Then, if he does go wrong you can be as stern with him as you like. Kedgelt. Little follies ! Mr. Garner, I can give it no other name than crime. Garner (indignant). Crime ! Mr. Kedgely, don't use that word to my boy ! Find another name, sir, find another name ! Kedgelt. I fully sympathize with you, my poor friend. Garner. My poor son ! Kedgelt. Out of respect for you, whom we know to be an honest man, we placed your son in a position of trust, where large sums of money passed through his hands Garner. Break it to me gently, sir, gently, if you can ! (represses his sobs with efforts.) Kedgelt. He had orders to pay a large sum to Messrs. Dean & Foth- eringay — and he never paid it. Harsh as the word may be, there is no other but forgery and embezzlement for such a double act of dishonesty. Garner. My boy. my poor boy ! Kedgelt. No one could regret more than I the sad duty I have been compelled to perform. It is a great blow — but you must bear it, my poor friend, you must bear it. I will leave you now, to compose yourself. Let it be a consolation to you that you have won a name for honesty and probity which none may excel ! [Exit, d. in f. Garner (tearfully). It has come at last! Bad company, and idle ways have done their wicked work ! My boy, my Charley — he has broken his father's heart! (falls into chair, l. c.) he has broken my heart! (sobbing.) r. by stairs, Lxjct. Lucy. Uncle, what is the matter with you 1 Garner. Lucy ! (without looking up) go tell Charley I want to speak with him. Don't let his mother hear you. Lucy (going r., surprised, aside). How unlucky poor Charley is. (lightly) However, I've got him the money ! [Exit b., by stairs. Garner. He must go away from here — go far away, and his mother must know nothing about it. It would kill her — it would kill her ! Charley enters r., by stairs, unsuspectingly. Charley. Did you want me, father ? (to c. b., side of Garner, who re- mains seated, not looking at Charley.) Garner (in a tearful voice). Yes, Charley, I — I want to tell you some act ii. 23 bad news » You must go away from here — anywhere out of this place ! All is discovered ! You must escape ! You are accused of forgery Charley. Forgery ! It is false ! Garner (rises, with joy). Stick to that, Charley, stick to that, and I'll tell Kedgely he lied, (c.) Charlet. Kedgely ! (hangs his head, r. c.) Garner. It is true, then, it is true ! (sad.'y— pause.) Charley (abruptly). Father! (/<7& inito Garner's aruw.) Garner. Charley, Charley ! (pause) There's not a moment to be lost. They may be coming to arrest you, and who could keep it from your mother then 1 Charley. I will go. Father, I am not as bad as I seem. I was tempt- ed into it by bad companions. Bob Gassitt was my evil genius from the first. If this had not been discovered, I would have repaid it — I had the means of doing so. I have not been so bad. Don't tell mother ! [Music. Garner (determinedly). She shall never know it ! Charley. Anything but that ! (going r., with his hat.) Garner. No, not that way ! By the other door ! I'll give you money- to get away Charley (at d. in f.) I will begin a new life ! Kiss mother for me ! Say something to Lucy ! I will make no promises. You shall hear of me as a better man, if I live. Good-bye ! (very tearful voice) God bless you ! [Exit, D. in f. — Music kept up, piano. Garner. Charley ! (totters up c. to d. in v., looks off at open door) Char- ley, my boy, my darling boy ! Gone ! (comes down c. ; door closes) Gone ! God forgive him ! (clasps his hands, very faint voice) God forgive him ! (sinks into chair, L. C.) Lucy enters r. by stairs. Lucy. What's the matter, Uncle 1 Garner. Lucy, don't leave me. Kedgely, enters d. in p.* Garner (to Lucy). Take hold of my hand ; don't let go of it ! A great blow has fallen on us Lucy (aside). Charley ! Garner. On me ! We were not so well off as you always thought. Lucy. What are you saying, Uncle? Garner. I risked too much in rash speculations. I hoped to have paid my losses honestly, but, in an evil hour, I took the money of my old employers Kedgely. You, Michael Garner ! Garner (not looking up). I took the money, I forged the receipt ! I — only I — have brought shame and disgrace upon this happy home ! Lucy. Mr. Kedgely, you will not proceed any further in this matter 3 I am sure there is some mistake. The money is here. Enter, R. by stairs, Mrs. Garner. Oh, Aunty ! the money is here, isn't it 1 LC<3T. GAKSfcR. KZBGTLT. O. t>. C. L. 24 DEARER THAN LIFE. Mrs. Garner (is surprised). The money is here — but — Michael, what is the matter 1 Lucy. Nothing ! (impatiently) the money — the money ! Mrs. Garner (tries to open box on sideboard up c.) Here, here ! the money is here, eh 1 Oh, it has been broken open ; the lock won't work ! Garner. The money ! What money 1 Mrs. Garner (still trying to open box). You know, Michael, the money we have been saving up against Lucy's and Charley's marriage. It is — (opens box) gone ! Lucy. Gone ! Mrs. Garner. It is stolen ! Garner (rises). Stolen ! Mrs. Garner. Nobody knew where it was but you and me and Char- ley Garner (with grief and rage). Charley ! stolen by Charley ! Oh, bitter shame. (Bolter and chorus sing the chorus of " Honest Man," softly. The ac- companiment continues the ritornelle as curtain falls.) Mrs. G. Lucy. Gassitt enters d. in f Garner. Kedgely e. c c. l. c. SLOW CURTAIN. ACT. Ill SCENE. — Garret in dwelling-house, gas down, candle lit on table r. ; fire in fireplace, r. 1 e. set. Lucy discovered seated by table, sewing dress. Lucy. How weary I am of this work, (sighs) Ah ! I wish I had a hun- dred hands to work them to the bone for poor Uncle Michael. What can he do, poor dear ; what strength has he to compete with younger men ? When I think of our old happy home, and Uncle looked up to as the most honest of men, oh ! I feel sure that there was some horrid mistake ! I can't believe it ! Sometimes I think that it will all come -ight at last, and we can leave this dreadful place. Poor Aunty is a confirmed in- valid, dying of a broken heart. And Charley, my promised husband, where are you 1 Not here, in your place, working for your parents. Alas ! six months is gone since I last heard of him. Ah! (pause) I must get again to work. (sews. Knock, l. 1 e. d.) Come in ! Enter, l. 1 e., Mrs. Pellet, to c. Lucy. Oh, dear ! Mrs. Pellet. Oh, dear ! I should think it was, " oh dear ! " a respect- able housekeeper to be kept awaiting at a lodger's door for ever so long. Lucy. I am very sorry. I did not hear you at first. Mrs. Pellet. Oh, don't give yourself any trouble ! (loftily). I only came to tell you that there's a most respectable gent in the dog's-meat ACT III. *J5 line as has been thinking of these rooms. He's in a large way, got his regular customers, and is punctual in his pay. So, if you haven't settled by to-night Lucy. You would turn us out 1 Mrs. Pellet. There's no other all-turn-ative ! Lucy. You have a heart ! We have been unfortunate, but Mrs. Pellet. The rooms or the money Lucy. Surely, you are too despondent, Mrs. Pellet. Your house is al- ways full, and the other lodgers cannot be, I suppos:, like us Mrs. Pellet. Oh, do yon'? Then you're jist mistook! My landlord expecks his rent as reg'lar as clockwork, but the lodgers have no feeling for a poor lone woman. Once I had a husband as good as the best, and a house as grand as the finest, but, as my first-floor lodger says, where are we now 1 Lucy. If you will only give us a little time, we will endeavor Mrs. Pellet. Oh, I can't be put off any more with your wheedling ways ! soft words won't pay the rates. 1 pays my way, and 1 expects others to act accordingly. I repeat, (stamps foot) I pays my way! Lucy. I know what you are alluding to, ma'am. Where should we go, if you were to be so hard. Mrs. Pellet. Go 1 why to the workhouse — like that poor old broken- down bloke who comes to visit you sometimes. Lucy. Shame ! Mrs. Pellet. Why shame 1 what else is the work-house for, but them as cant pay their way 1 Lucy. Woman ! I forbid you to address me in this way ! Mrs. Pellet. You forbid 1 Woman ! I should like to know who you are calling a woman ! I'm no more of a woman than you are. I'm a re- spectable housekeeper, as pays my way ! Lucy. You shall be paid to-night, ma'am. In the meantime I request that you will withdraw. Mrs. Pellet. Young woman, pride will be your ruin ! Why, ain't there as good-looking a young man as the world ever saw, only awaiting for you to say the word, when he'll marry you. Lucy (rises). How dare you 1 Mrs. P. Oh, I know all about it. Mr. Gassitt is only too willing to help your old folks, but you're too proud ! He's got a bold way about him, that would have made even me think him quite out of the common, when I was of your age ! Lucy. Mr. Gassitt has no heart, and would only intrude on our misery. You can prevent him. Do not let him in, I order you ! Mrs. P. Oh, dear me ! Lucy (submissively). I beg of you ! Mrs. P. (aside). And him giving me ray regulars to be let in ! (aloud) Mr. Gassitt is such a bold young man, that perhaps he won't mind my tell- ing him. We shall see. (goes l.) Mind you, I want my rent or my rooms ! Them's Sarah Pellet's sentiments, and she sticks to them ! (bangs l. 1 b. d. open icithjist, stamps her foot) and she sticks to them ! [Exit violently. Lucy. Oh, poor weak creature that I am, what shall I do 1 We have really come to the last step. Ah ! I must finish this to-night, (seated os before) To work, to work! (sews a little, then leans- her head on her a, ms weeping, on table, lifts her head) I cannot work! (produces letter from h/r bosom, unfolds it on table) Charley's last, (reads) "Heaven bless all at lionr\ I hope soon to be with you. It is very sad out here, all alone, but T pray for help, and I hope I shall comeback a changed man, by repentance and labor. Out here, away from the noisy city, I gee aH the iniquity of my crime— there I did not feel that, it even was a crime," \ 26 DEABEB, THAN LIFE. Enter l., Gassitt, cane under arm, comes over r. c, looks at what Lucy is reading, smiles, recedes a little to c up, aside. j " By God's mercy I shall return worthy of you all." Gassitt. Hera ! Lucy (starts). You here % Gassitt. Reading something of interest, may I inquire % Lucy. Something of the highest interest. Gassitt. A letter — from Charley 1 (Lucy nods coldly) Ah, poor Char- ley! Lucy. Poor, indeed ! if he has sunk so low as to merit your pity. Gassitt. Ah! Is there nothing, Miss Lucy, that I can do to make you look more favorably on me 1 I am not going to give it up so easily. (crosses to R. side of table) You're all in distress — next door to starvation ; but a word from your lips would lift you out of it. I am not such a bad fellow. Lucy, I would go through fire and water for you. There's not a thing in the world I would not do to prove it ! Lucy (coldly). You know that Charley Gassitt. Charley! Oh, I know. I know all about it; more than his mother does. What would she give to be undeceived 1 Lucy. Do you threaten 1 Gassitt. No — not unless you force me to it. Lucy. It would kill her! Through all our troubles she has been keyt ignorant of her son's error. Gassitt (laughs). Error! Call it by its right name, and say crime! Come, there's nothing in my power that you shall not have. I have got an appointment abroad, (sits on table) A party in the wine trade who ap- preciates ray manners (leans across table towards Lucy) and business talents, has given me a berth. It ain't much, but it will help to something bet- ter, I hope. Say the word and you can leave the old people comfortable. (with his face close to Lucy's) Lucy, give a fellow a bit of a chance — just a little, least bit. Lucy (rises). Robert Gassitt, I am the promised wife of Charles Garner. Gassitt (goes to c, carelessly). Well, there was something I did not want to speak about yet, but you drive me to tell it. Lucy, you will never be the bride of Charles Gamer. Lucy. What do you mean 1 Gassitt. Why, he is married already ! Lucy. It is false ! Gassitt. It is true! and if you won't believe me, there's Jack Wil- loughby who's come back by the last ship ; he saw it all. Charley was down with the fever a long while, and she nursed him (Lucy sobs, seated as before) So that's the way. (insinuating iy) Oh, how could you ex- pect steadiness of Charley — he was always flighty and changeable — never could settle long on one object. I didn't mean to tell you this until after you were Mrs. Gassitt — just to have some retort in store in case you should recall your model lover ! Lucy (sobs). Oh, oh! Gassitt. Well, I'll leave you to think it over. Make it " yes," and they'll all be left comfortable ; make it " no," and I don't know what you'll all come to ! (going up l. c. a little') I'll look in again for your answer. Voice of Michael Garner heard of l. 1. e., singing. He enters l. 1 e. d., as if cold. His manner is the reverse of that in the previous Acts, being dejected and broken down. Garner. Ha, ha ! here we are at home again ! ACT III. 27 Lttct (rises). Uncle ! (kisses Garner.) Gassitt (aside). Ah, Master Charley, I rather think I have settled your business. [Exit quietly, L. 1 E. D. Lucy (looking around). Oh, where's Garner. Where's what 1 (at fire, r.) Lucy. Nothing, Uncle. Garner. It's not so werry cold when you're indoors. It's so very com- fortable to see a fire, (stamps his feet, checks himself) It's not so werry cold. Oh ! next I'll have the soles off. Lucy. It has been snowing. Your feet must be damp. Garner. Damp ! that's a good 'un. My feet damp ' I'm not one of your cotton-wool chaps, that's afraid of a little snow. Where's Aunt, my girl 1 Lucy. She was not very well, and she is asleep in her room. Garner (half aside). What will she wake to? what will she wake to? (seated r. by fire.) Lucy (aside). To what indeed ! Garner (cheerfully). I am getting on fust-rate in my new place. I didn't know I knew my way so well — rally so well. And Meadows Brothers sent me to the most out-of-the-way places I ever see. I'm reg- ularly cut out for a messenger. When I was in business, I didn't take enough exercise — I'm making up for it now. Lucy (aside). Lucy Garner ! be a woman, and not a whimpering fool. (aloud, rising) Uncle, dear, won't you have your tea % (gets tea-things from cupboard r. u. E. comer, and sets table.) Garner. Well, I will, my dear, though I really wouldn't have thought of such a thing if you had not put it into my mind. I made a hearty meal late in the day — afraid you wouldn't think of waiting for me. It's such a long way to get to here — not too far ! oh, dear no, not too far ! and then it is so werry comfortable when you are here. I may say I rather like the walk. As Master Johnny says — he's oncommon fond of a joke — Master Johnny is, : ' I'm a rum 'un to look at, but a good 'un to go !" He's a merry chap, Master Johnny is. Ah ! this is something like — pour us out a cup of tea ! That'll warm one up ! Lucy (pours out tea into Garner's cup). Poor Uncle, I knew you felt the weather. Your hand is quite cold. Garner. My hand is cold, is it ? As long as the heart is warm, what does it matter ? the extremities are not to be thought of. Ah, that cup of tea warms me again. Gently with the butter, my dear, gently with it. I'm of a bilious nature, (mouthful) Bread and scrape, my dear ! bread and scrape! Well, really I am hungry, (quickly) notwithstanding the hearty meal I had late in the day ! But (suddenly) you are not eating anything. Won't you keep me company 1 Lucy. Thank you, Uncle, but I have no appetite. Garner Ah ! Well, have you any more bad news 1 (eating and drink- ing business continued ) Lucy. Mrs. Pellet has been asking for her rent. Garner. Oh ! has she been at it again, the old rammaulus 1 That for her . ( snaps his fingers ) Lucy. She said she was going to let the rooms, and unless we paid the arrears she would turn us out ! Garner. Pooh ! She told me she would wait till the end of the week. By that time Bolter will be back. Bolter has a heart, and he'll help us. I've told him it was all a lie about my Lucy. All a lie "? What do you mean ? Garner (coughs). Eh ! oh, a pip^« of brenrl crone flown the wronsf vra^= 28 DEARER THAN LIFE. {takes up loaf) Haven't you any more — is this all the bread in the house 1 Lucy. Yes, Uncle, until I get this dress done and take it home. Garner {quickly). I rally must have a pipe ! {takes pipe from mantel- piece) I rally must ! I feel such a longing for tobacco ! {fills and lights pipe, aside) It isn't the first smoke I've taken in place of food for a time past, (gayiy) But mother Pellet — bless her benevolent old countenance ! what did she have to say 1 Lucy. I told you, Uncle ! She knows you will have your wages of a Saturday night. Garner. My salary, my dear. Certain sums at a stated period are salary — plant that in your mind ! Then we'll pour the money into the voracious maw of mother Pellet! How about Sunday's dinner ? What'll be the residue 1 Lucy. There's Aunty's medicine to be paid for. Garner. Aunty's medicine ! Bless me, I forgot ! True ! Oh, I've got an invitation out to dine on a Sunday ! Old Tom Matthews of our office — a most respectable old chap — often asked me to take dinner with him, and I really must oblige him. So I won't come home till late {his voice has gradually wavered as if he was too tired to keep up the mock gayety. He sits, half bent over fire, smoking. Pause ; abruptly looking round) I think this is not so bad a place after all when you come to look at it ! A little high up, I grant you, but so quiet and free from intrusion, {faint knock l. 1 e. d. ) Eh % {turns slightly) Ah ! smoke is the best friend ! Do you know 1 rally wish you could take a pipe with me, Lucy ! You'll find it such a comfort ! Lucy {smiling sadly). Oh, Uncle, the idea of my smoking ! Garner {shaking his head). I don't know about that, my dear ; I hear it's beginning to be the fashion in the tip-toppest society. You see the old women at the apple-stands enjoying their pipe. It's only the ex- tremes meeting, rich and poor — high and low ! {knock louder, l. 1 e. d.) Lucy. I know that knock ! It's Uncle Ben's tap ! {rises.) Garner. No, my dear, Uncle Ben's tap is a great deal nearer the pub- lic-house ! Ben ( puts his head in l. 1 e. d.) May I come in 1 Garner. Come in. Enter Ben, to l. c. slowly. On-tray, on-tray ! as the French say ! Ben {to Lucy). Come and kiss your poor old nunkey. Lucy {going up r. c. to avoid him, taking tea things to cupboard). I am very busy — very busy — and Uncle is much occupied ! [Exit, r. 1 e. d. after putting things away.) Ben {whining, looking up r. after Lucy). She don't want to welcome her old nunkey. Pride, Michael, haughty pride ! Garner {smoking pipe). Yes, we've got so much to be proud of— especial' ly our relations ! {looks up significantly and then turns his eyes from Ben again.) Ben. It's all because of your rise in the world. Garner. A rise, yes, from the first-floor to the attic — we can't go much loftier ! Ben {maudlin). Michael, can you forgive me ! {takes Garner's hand, and, to mark his speeches, strikes it on table) Say you will forgive me ! Garner. If it will be any satisfaction to you, I say I do forgive you ! Ben {strikes Garner's hand down on the table as before). Oh, bless you, Michael ! {in bringing the hands down a second time, Garner turns his so that Ben's knuckles strike.) Bless you ! Garner. This is a pleasant companion for a wet afternoon ! I should pay it would be an uncommon wet afternoon when you see him ! ACT HI. 29 Ben (drunkenly). The Rules and Reggie — reg — gleggle — guggle {stam- mering.) Garner. Rules and Regulations — perhaps 1 Ben. The Rules and Reg — {with cm effort) gle-ations of the social in- stitution in which I am doomed, 1 repeat, I am doomed, {trying to seize on the next word, drunkemy) doomed Garner. Well, keep on saying " I am doomed !" if it's any relief to you. It sounds like swearing, when it ain't ! Ben. The rules and regulations kept me from coming to see you be- fore Garner. Then hooroar for the rules and regulations ! Ben. Say once more, that you forgive me. Garner. Twice more, I forgive you. Ben. Do you forgive me, Mike, for everything I have done 1 Garner (in affected horror). Why, you haven't-been and gone and done everything, have you 1 Here's a man that has gone and done everything, and an ungrateful country lets him waste his sweetness in the work'us'. i; Oh, Albion ! oh, my country, oh ! " Ben. Michael, I have done you a great injury. I'm an old willain ! (fads into chair by table.) Garner. Old you are, but villain is not the proper word for my brother. Ben. Michael, I've lost my peace of mind. It's preying on my con- science, and driving me to an early grave ! I see my crime before me in all its deformity, in the sere and yellow leaf— in all my sereness and yel- lowness ! I am going — I am going ! Garner (offei s his hand). Good-bye ! Ben. You seem very eager to get rid of me, Mike, (hand in pocket) I've brought a little present to you— a slight return for my wrong doing. It is not much, {produces bottle) but it's the best I can do for you in the miserable state to which I am condemned. Garner (contemptuously). Drink gin 1 Ben. It is vulgarly so called, but taken in moderation it is known as juniper. I wanted to bring you something as a return, and that's the only thing that I'm a judge of. (rises) Good-bye ! Garner. Don't hurry yourself. Ben. Bless you, bless you ! (goes to l. 1 e., slowly.) Garner, (follotvs him with candle). Good-bye. Ben (at l. 1 e. d.) Give my love to Sal ! As for Lucy, she is a little spit-fire ! (half crying) Good-bye ! Bless you, bless you ! Oh ! y [Exit L. 1 E. D. Garner (blows the candle out as if the opening of the door did it). There's the light out now ! (calls off l. 1 e.) Mind the loose stairs at the bottom ! (closes door and goes tip c. to put candle on table there) Ah, Michael Garner ! you've sunk low enough in the world, but you've not sunk so low as drink yet ; (at table r. e. front) after all, though, it was kindly meant of the old chap. Moonlight in at uindow in f., Garner seated by fire. I wonder what he meant by his maunderings on crime and forgiveness 1 It must be a touch of the trimmings. There's nothing like the trimmings to turn a man's head. I once had an uncle who had the trimmings ; he used to fancy himself the front door, and wanted his chain on, and to be locked up every night. When latch-keys come into iashion, it reg- ularly broke his 'heart, (takes up bottle) It don't smell bad. (tastes jrom bot- tle) I don't wonder at Uncle Ben taking a drop, now and then. It s a comfort, and he needs a comfort, (drinks) Ah! brave old Tom! you warm me like a regular furnace. There's nothing to interfere with you. SO 1>EAKER THAN LIFE. where you are going, old Tom ! I'm empty ! You are like Mr. Alexan- der Selkirk, on the desert island, jou'ie " Monarch of all you survey ! " {gets drunk) " May we never want a i'riend." (drinks) " May the evening's amusement bear the " — " a bottle to give him ! " (about to take up botae, but, draws buck his hand) ]S T o ! I must have my pipe, (rises, unsteady of foot to get pipe on mantel, drunken business of taking it by the bowl, and finally breaking it) Oh, my head is splitting! (stands reeling) The room seems waving — wav- ing — waving, like the sea. It's the drink that's done it — it's the drink. And I have had no food — no food for days. I am starving ! Michael Garner is starving! (catches at table not to fall.) and my wife is there (waves his hand towards r. u. e.) dying — the food, that might have kept her alive, denied her. It's a bad world, they're all rogues or fools in it. The fools are fools for not being rogues !_ All is going round again ! (to c.) I feel as if I was walking on air ! (returns to chair l. side of table, and falls into it, head on his -breast, with agitated hands, etc.) Enter, r. u. e. d., Lucy. Lucy (gayly). Oh, I am so glad that Uncle Ben has gone ! (tip l. c.) Garner (fiercely). What are you glad that Uncle Ben's gone for ! Uncle Ben never did any harm to you, did he % (Lucy recedes to l. c. in surprise) Because Uncle Ben's in the poor-house is he any the worse for that 1 Lucy (aside). Oh, this is the final blow ! (clasps her hands) Why are you not here, Charley'? Garner. Charley % What are you muttering about Charley 1 Mrs. Garner enters r. u. e. d. during the ensuing and stands up c, in moon- light, listening* Hain't there been enough sacrificed to him % Lucy (bewildered). Uncle, dear Uncle, what does this mean'? Garner (furiously). Do you think I committed that robbery. It's lime all this nonsense was put a stop to ! It's time this model son, this favo- rite of the family was shown up in his true colors ! (about to take up bottle.) Lucy. Don't take any more of that dreadful stuff, Uncle ! It will do you ill! (plaintively) You used to do everything I asked of you, Uncle, once ! (kneels to Garner and puts arms about his neck) Do so now ! do so now ! (Garner pushes the bottle from him) Dear Uncle, (embraces Garner and rises.) Garner. I'll not be cajoled by your persuading ways ! Do you set yourself up to defend the scapegrace 1 Know him first, the scamp ! Lucy. Don't ! Garner. A mean-spirited scoundrel who has brought us all to this, drowned my good name in shame, driven me to drink, broken my heart ! He stole from his own mother ! He plundered his masters. My hands are unstained by guilt ! He, Charley, Charley, was the real criminal — my son was the forger and the thief! Mrs. Garner. Ah! (prolonged scream ; falls full length.) Lucy (turns.) Garner (not looking round). Who's that 1 (riscs^. Lucy (lifts up Mrs. Garner^ Aunty, Aunty! dear Aunty! Garner. She here! Then ail is out at last. Mrs. Garner. Lucy, don't leave me, don't leave me ! What's that I heard % I shall go mad ! Mrs. Garner. Garner seated. Lucy. R. C. C. L. C. ACT III. 3J- Lucy. Don't mind Uncle. He is in drink; ho don't know what ho is saying ! Garner {putting on drunkenness). I'm drunk— I don't know what I am saying, {goes 10 r. around tabic; aside) Ail is over ! (Lucy placet Mrs. Gar- BBR jm chair vacated by Garner) The secret I have kept from her all these many years known to her at last ! Mrs. Garner. Michael, Michael 1 you didn't mean what you were saying 1 Tell me you did not ! Garner. No, no ! Lucy. Uncle did not mean anything by it. Mrs. Garner. My dear boy was always good, and kind, and honest as the day ! (rises.) Garner (tremulously). Yes, he was good, and kind and (with an effort after pause) honest, {he lights candle during following.) Mrs. Garner. I thought I heard you say dreadful things of Charley. I thought I heard his name coupled with crime. You didn't mean it, Michael 1 Sleeping in that lonely room, I thought I saw the face of my dear boy, sadder than ever. He sighed to come back, (clings to Garner c.) Oh, why did you let him go away 1 Enter l. 1 e. d., Mrs. Pellet. Mrs. Pellet. May I come in 1 Garner. Well, what do you want 1 Mrs. Pellet. My rent, or my apartments. Lucy. Mrs. Pellet ! Oh, your money will be ready for you — soon. I'll speak to you presently. Mrs. Pellet. Oh, I have had enough of your persuasive ways, miss. Ain't I to speak — me that pays my way 1 Lucy {pushes Mrs. Pellet to r. 1 e ). Another time, another time. Mrs. Pellet. Another time won't do for me with lodgers that haven't got a penny to bless themselves with. I want's my money or my rooms, my money or my rooms ! {the row continued, while Lucy pushes Jur out and follows her off L. 1 E. d.) Mrs. G. If I could only see the face of my dear boy, really again, I would die in peace — I would die. Garner (on her l. side, cheerfully). How you talk, Sally. You're not one of the dying sort, you want a mouthful of fresh air — it would regu- larly make you young again. You shall have it, too, when Bolter comes back. Mrs. G. I fear I have been very selfish, in letting the hours slip by without my sharing in the daily work. Do you know, my dear Michael, that it seems to me, in the midst of our privations, that 1 never loved you so well before, when we were well off? Garner. Not a doubt of it, my love. Young, first love is all very well in its way, but it's like a fire fresh lighted — it sputters, and fizzes, and throws out a lot of sparks and smoke — a deal of smoke. But when in time it settles down to a steady flame, it burns clearer, and gives out a brighter light, and, depend upon it, it is warmer. Mrs. G. Michael ! Garner. My dear wife! (they embrace.) Enter Lucy, l. 1 E. d., laughing, gas up gradually to full turn on. ' Lucy. Ha. ha, ha ! (immoderately joy ftu.) Garner. Hullo! what's the matter'? Have you been comn- \o 32 DEARER TliAiN LlJb'E. blows 1 Lucy, uiy girl, it was very wrong of you to pitch into Mother Pellet, for weight was agin you ! Lucy. Ha, ha ! I'll have it out directly ! Garner. I should think you had been having it out ! Lucy. Oh, Aunt} 7 {checks herself) A — a gentleman is come to havo ' a look at the rooms. But you needn't go away. Lucy lets in Charley, who keeps his face averted l. 1 e. d. and then goes up c. with Mrs. Garner. This is the gentleman, Uncle ! {aside) Can this be true % Garner* (to Charley, who has taken chair l. c, front). Sir, you really would oblige us if you could wait a day or two. The truth is, we're very hard up just now Charley {gruff voice). That's very awkward ! Garner. It's ver} r awk'ard on us, sir. We are at starvation point, and it would be very hard to turn us out. Charley. Starvation 1 Garner. A very good imitation of it then. Charley. I can stand this no longer ! (rises, hat off) Don't you know me ] Mrs. Garner. My boy ! (embraces Charley. Lucy puts chair up l. out of the wag.) Garner. Charley, what does this mean'? (r. bg head of table.) Charley. Mean 1 It means that I have come back to pay all your debts and set you up again in the old shop and home, and to make Lucy my darling wife ! (takes Lucy's hand.) Garner. Eh 1 Marry Lucy. Why, your talking of committing bigamy ! Ain't you married already 1 Charley. Me married 1 No ! Could you think me such a scamp 1 Garner. Oh, I don't know about that ! Well, now, I begin to see into this ! ( Voice of Gassitt heard off l.) But I tell you I will go in ! Charley. His voice ! I have been betrayed by him ! Garner (aside). I'm getting in the clouds ! Charley here, a-standing up so proud and a-looking me in the eye honest-like ! I begin to believe he'll turn out all right after all ! Enter, l. 1 e. d., Gassitt, surprised at seeing so many in the room, but not recognizing Charley. Gassitt. Hullo ! Garner. Hullo yourself, and ever so many more hullos on top of them, and one more little hullo to finish off with ! (hands on his hips, arms akimbo, confronts Gassitt) Well, what do you want 1 Gassitt. Your — your landlady tells me ~ Garner. My landlady ! You let my landlady alone ! Mother Pellet is old enough and ugly enough to look after herself, and has no need of an honorary secretary ! Gassitt. Very well, then, I ■ Garner. Go and interfere with your own landlady ! Or is it part of your profession as the Honorary Secretary of the Associated Landlady's Antedeluvian Benevolent Society 1 * Mrs. Garner. Lucy. Garner. Charley (seated l. c, front. B. C. O. L. O. ACT III. 33 Gassitt. I want to speak to you, Lucy. Garner {getting before Gassitt). Who are you calling "Lucy 1" I'd like you to know that that young lady's name is Miss Garner, which it will continue to be so when she changes it, and the reason she won't change it when she does change it, is because she's going to marry my son and be more than ever in the family. Gassitt. Is she 1 He's already married ! Charley {advances). That is false ! Garner. What do you say to that, Mr. Honorary Secretary ] Gassitt {recovers himself). Charley, you have come back ! {sneers) Ain't you afraid ? Charley. Of what 1 Gassitt. Of what generally alarms the thief and the forger — arrest, ! Charley. That is all over. But you ! how is it I find my family in poverty 1 where's the money I sent you for them 1 Gassitt. I never had it ! Charley. Why did you send me receipts then 1 Garner. Hullo ! money sent home to us by Charley ! {arms akimbo again) Mr. Honorary Secretary, things look fishy! We never had tho money ! Gassitt. I couldn't find them before, {sullenly.) Garner. And you was always a-coming to see us? Oh, no ' I begin to think you are not coming out of this with hands as clean as an hono- rary secretary should ! Gassitt. Another insult ! and I'll let your mother know Charley. She does know all about it. Enter, l. 1 e. d., Ben. Gassitt. What ! that you, not content with forging and bleeding your father, broke open the strong box and stole the savings of your mother like the meanest, vilest, paltriest thief Charley. Scoundrel ! you lie ! {restrained by Lucy.) Garner. No fighting, Charley ! {to Gassitt) He says you Ik) \ Gassitt. You ought to know. Garner. Then I should say you do ! Ben {comes to l. c.).* He does. All {except Gassitt). Uncle Ben ! Garner. How do you come, I thought the Rules and Regulations Ben {snaps fingers). That for the Rules and Reggleations ! What are Rules and Reggleations to a guilty mind ! I took the money ! I knew Sally was saving up a trifle for her poor brother-in-law ! So, one day when the temptation was too much for my grey hairs, I broke open the box and took the money. All. Ah ! Ben. I am not long for this world — do forgive me. Garner. Why you lucky, old, harmless, disgraceful man ! I have a mind to knock your venerable old head against that venerable old wall ! Get out of the way— I'll speak to you bye-and-bye. (Ben goes up l. To Gassitt) Now, then, where's the money you had for us 1 Gassitt. Spent ! The last remittance went to pay my passage out to Bungaroo. Garner. What's Bungaroo ? *Mes. Q. Chaeley. Lucy. Gabneb. Ben. Gassit*. B. O. O. L. O. L. 34 DEARER THAN LIFE. Gassitt. On the West Coast of Africa. Garner. Mr. Gassitt, you have done us all the injury that was in your power. You can do us a great favor — will you I Gassitt. What is it 1 Garnkr. Take Uncle Ben out to Bungaroo with you ! You won't 1 Then don't lei's see your physimahogny any more, {forces Gassitt to l. 1 r.) Don't you stop to make any long speeches. The stairs are steep and Charley's boot-toes are sharp % Gassitt (at l. 1 r.J Any commissions for Bungaroo? Garner. No ; my compliments to Mr. Bungaroo ! (turns from door, after Gassitt goes out, and then calls off) And my compliments to Mother Pellet, and she can put the card up in the window — we shan't want her rooms in a hurry again. Mrs. Garner. My good husband ! Garner. My dear wife ! {embraces Mrs. Garner) The clouds were thick for a while, but the storm has blown over at last, after teaching us the lesson that we should have a kindly word for our friends, who can help us so much in this world by their smiles and their cheerful looks, which are to us dearer than life. Garner and Mrs. Garner hand in hand, l. of c, Lucy and Charley, hand in hand, r. of c. CURTAIN. EXPLANATION OF THE STAGE DIRECTIONS. The Actor is supposed to face the Audience. E.U. E. SCENE. B.2E. / B. 13. / / \ \ \ L.2E. l. 1: B. B. 0. 0. ATJDIENCE. X.. 0. x* L. Left. c. Centre. L. C. Left Centre. B. Right. L. 1 E. Left First Entrance. E. 1 E. Eight Eirst Entrance. I.2K Left Second Entrance. B. 2e. Right Second Entrance. Xi. 3e. Left Third Entrance. n. 3e. Right Third Entrance. L. U. E. Left Upper Entrance B. U. E. Right Upper Entrance. (wherever this Scene may be.) D. E. C- Door Bight Centre. D. L. c. Door Left Centre. -_ < ^/. d» Jfcfc \gr j^^sss^ §1 ■ -r- "S;.V39t3st Sh-ike^perc, Nature's child Warbles his native wood-notes wild."— Milton. IfHP 5 Please notice that nearly all the Comedies, Farces and Comediettas in the following List of "De Witt's Acting Plays" are very suitable for representation in small Amateur Theatres and on Parlor Stages, as they need but little extrinsic aid from complicated scenery or expensive costumes. They have attained their deserved popularity by their droll situations, excellent plots, great humor and brilliant dialogues, no less than by the fact that they are the most perfect in every respect of any edi- tion of Plays ever published either in the United States or Europe, whether as regards purity of the text, accuracy and fulness of stage directions and scenery, or elegance of typo- graphy and clearness of printing. *J* In ordering, please copy the figures at the commencemetit of each piece, which indicate the number of the piece in "De Witt's List op Acting Plays. 1 ' ^ ft^f* Any of the following Plays sent, postage free, on receipt of price — fifteen cents.; Address, ' ROBERT M. DE WITT. JVo. S3 ■Hose Street, JVetv York. IDE WITT'S .AOTX2TG PLAITS- No. 1 CASTE. An original Comedy in three acts, hy T. W. Robertson. A lively and effective satire upon the times, played successfully in America, at Wallack's. Five male and three female characters. Costumes, modern. Scenery, the first and third acts, interior of a neat room ; the second a fashionable room. Time in representation, two hours and forty minutes. 2 NOBODY'S CKIL.D. A romantic Drama in three acts, by Watts Phillips. Eighteen male and three female characters. A domestic drama, wonderfully successful in London, as it abounds in sthrii g PCelies and capital situations. Costumes modern, suited to rural life in Wales. Scenery is wild and picturesque. Time ill representation, two hours and a quarter. 3 £100, 000* An original Comedy in three act-*, "by Henry J. Byron. Eight male and four female characters. A most effective piece, played with applause at Wallaces. Costumes of the day. Two scenes ate - required— a comfortably furnished parlor and an eleganl apartment. Time in representation, one hour and three quarters. DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. No. 4 DANDELION'S DODGES. A Farce in one act, by Thomas J. Williams. Four male and two female characters. A rattling piece. The part of Dandelion excellent for a low comedian. Costumes of the day. Sce- nery, a picturesque landscape. Time in representation, fifty minutes. 5 "WILLIAM TELL "WITH A VENGEANCE; or, the Pet, the Patriot and the Pippin. A grand new Burlesque by Henry J. Byron. Eight male and two female characters. Replete with telling allusions. Cos- tumes of the period of the middle ages, grotesquely exaggerated. Five scenes in Switzerland. Time in representation, one hour. 6 SIX MONTHS AGO. A Comedietta in one act, by Felix Dale. Two male and one female characters. A really effective little piece, suited to amateurs. Costumes of the day. Scene, morning room in a country house. Easily produced. Time in representation, forty minutes. 7 MAUD'S PERIL. A Drama in four acts, by Watts Phillips. Five male and three female characters. Strong and sensational. Costume of English country life of the period. Scenery not elaborate. Time in representation, two hours and a half. 8 HENRY DUNBAR ; or, a Daughter's Trials. A Drama in four acts, by Tom Taylor. Ten male and three feirale characters. One of the best acting plays of the day. Costumes of the period. Scenery modern English. Time in representation, three hours. 9 A FEARFUL TRAGEDY IN THE SEVEN DIALS. A farcical interlude in one act, by Charles Selby. Four male and one female characters. A very laughable piece, easily produced ; certain to bring down the house. Costumes of the day. Scene, a genteelly furnished bed- room. Time in representation, forty minutes. 10 THE SNAPPING TURTLES; or, Matrimonial Masque- rading. A duologue in one act, by John B. Buckstone. One male and one female character, who assume a second each. A very ludicrous farce ; has been eminently successful. Costumes of the day. Scene, a drawing room. Time in representation, one hour. 11 'WOODCOCK'S LITTLE GAME. A Comedy Farce in two acts, by J. Maddison Morton. Four male and four female characters. A sparkling, lively composition, by one of the most humorous dramatic authors. The part of Woodcock has been performed by Charles Mathews and Lester Wallack. Costumes of the period. Scenery, modern apartments, handsomely furnished. Time in representation, one hour. 12 A WIDOW HUNT. An original Comedy in three acts, by J. Sterling Coyne. Four male and four female characters. An inge- nious and well known alteration of the same author's " Everybody's Friend," the part of Major Wellington de Boots having been rendered popular by Mr. J. S. Clarke in England and America. Costumes and scenery of the period. Time in representation, two hours and a half. 13 RUY BLAS. A romantic Drama in four acts, from the French of Victor Hugo. Twelve male and four female characters. This piece was eminently successful in London when produced by Mr. Fechter. It contains numerous scenes, capable of being performed unconnected with the drama, by amateurs. Spanish costumes of U92. Scenery, halls and apart- ments in the royal palace at Madrid. Time in representation, three hours and a half. 14 NO THOROUGHFARE. A Drama in five acts, with a prologue, by Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins. Thirteen male and six female characters. Very successful as produced by Fechter in England and by Florence in America. Costumes modern but often changed. Scenery complicated ; English exteriors, Swiss interiors and Alpine passes. Time in representation, three hours and forty minutes. 19> MILKY WHITE. A domestic Drama in two acts hy H. T. Craven. Four male and two female characters. A good acting, pathetic piece. Costumes English, of the present day. Scenery, an exterior and in- terior. Time in representation, one hour and a half. DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. 7 No. 16 BEARER THAN LIFE. A serio-comic Drama in three acts, by Henry J. Byron. Six male and five female characters. An effective piece, which could be reaaily performed by amateurs with success. Cos- tumes, English of the ony. Scenery, two interiors, easily arranged. Time in representation, two Lours. 17 KIND TO A FAULT. An original Comedy in two acts, by YV illiam dough. Six male and four female characters. A well written composition with well drawn characters. Costumes of th" present day. Scenery, two elegantly furnished interiors. Time in representation, one hour and twenty minutes. 18 IF I HAD A THOUSAND A YEAR. A Farce in one act, by John Maddison Morton. Four male and three female charac- ters. A sp'endid social sketch— the part of Green being excel ent for a good light comedian. Costumes of the present day : and scenery, a neatly fur- nished interior. Time in representation, one hour and fifteen minutes. 19 HE'S A LUNATIC. A Face in 021& act, by Felix Dale. Three male and two female characters. A sprightly, laughter-provoking production. Modern dr sscs ; and scene, a drawing room. T me in repre- sentation, forty minutes. 20 DADDY GRAY. A serio-comic Drama in threo acts, by Andrew Ilaliiday. Eight male and four female characters. One of the author's most effective and natural compositions. Dresses of the present &<\y. Scenery, interior of a cottage, a lawyer's office, street and archway, and cottage with landscape. Time in representation, two hours. 21 DREAMS ; or, My Lady Clara. A Drama in five acts, by T. W. Lobertson. Six male and three female characters. Full of thrilling incidents, with several excellent parts for both male and female. Was suc- cessfully brought out at the Boston Museum and New York Fifth Avenue Theatre. Costumes, modern German and English. Scenery, interiors and gardens, rather complicated, but effective. 22 DAVID GARRICK. A Comedy in three acts, by T. W. Robertson. Eight male and three female characters. Most effectively per- formed by Mr. Sothern in England and 111 America with decided success." Cos- tumes, court dresses. Scenery, two interiors antiquely furnished. Time in representation, one hour and three quarters. 23 THE PETTICOAT PARLIAMENT. An Extravaganza in one act, by Mark Lemon. Fifteen male and twenty-four female charac- ters. A revision of the "House of Ladies." Performed With great success at Mitchell's Olympic in New York. The costumes are extremely fanciful an 1 exaggerated. Scenery, modern English. Time in representation, one hour and live minutes. 24 CABMAN No. 93; or, Found in a Four Wheeler. A Farce in one act, by Thomas J. Williams. Two male and two female char- acters. A ludicrous piece, with a cabman for the first low comedian, and a stock broker as eccentric character part. Costumes of present day. Scene, a furnished room. Time in representation, forty miuutes. 25 THE BROKEN HEARTED CLUB. A Comedietta, by J. Sterling Coyne. Four male and eight female characters. A laughable satire on the Women's Eights movement. Costumes modern English. Scenery, a drawing room. Time in representation, thirty minutes. 26 SOCIETY. A Comedy in three acts, by T. W. Robert- son. Sixteen male and five female characters. A play exceedingly popular, intended to exhibit the foibles of British Society and to ridicule the election system. Costumes of the present day. Scenery elaborate. Time in repre- sentation, two hours and a half. 27 TIME AND TIBE. A Drama in three acts and a pro- logue, by Henry Leslie. Seven male and five female characters. An effec- tive piece, with novel and striking incidents. Costumes English, present day. Scenery, London marine scenery. Time in representation, two hours. DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. No. 28 A HAPPY PAIR. A Comedietta in one act, by S. Theyre Smith. One male and one female character. A neat dramatic sketch of ;i conjugal misunderstanding. Modern dresses. Scene, a drawing room. Time iu representation, t weaty minutes. 29 TURNING THE TABLES, A Farce in one act, by John Toole. Five male and three female characters. One of the happiest efforts of the famous author of "Paul Pry." The part or" Jeremiah Bumps is re- dolent with quaint humor. A standard acting piece. Dresses and scenery of the Dresent day. Time in representation, sixty-five minutes. 30 THE GOOSE WITH THE 63L3EN E3G3,, A Parce in one act, by Augustus Mayttew and Sutherland Edwards. Five male and three female characters. Gay, rollicking, full of incessant action, having three of the most comical characters imaginable. Costumes of the present period. Scene, a lawyer's office. Time in representation, forty-five minutes. 31 TAMING A TIGER. A Farce in one act, altered from the French. Three male characters. In this a dashing light comedian and fiery; petulant' old man cannot fail to extort applause. Modern dresses : and scene, a modern apartment. Time in representation, twenty five minutes. 32 THE LITTLE REBEL. A Farce in one act, fey J. Ster- ling Coyne. Four male and three female characters. An excellent piece for a sprightly young actress. Dresses and scenery of the present day. Easy of production. Time in representation, about forty-five minutes. 33 ONE TOO MANY FOR HIM, A Farce in one act, by Thomas J. Willi,. .;us. Two male and three female characters. Adapted from a popular French vaudeville. Costume of the time. Scene, parlor in country house. Time of representation, fifty minutes. 34 LARKIN'S LOVE LETTERS. A Farce in one act, by Thomas J. Williams. Three male and two female characters. The piece has excellent parts for first low comedy — first old man and a soubrette. Dresses of the day. Scene, a parlor. Time in representation, forty minutes. 35 A SILENT WOMAN. A Farce in one act, by Thomas Hailes Lacy. Two male and one female characters. One of the prettiest little pieces on the English stage. Dresses of the period. Scene, a drawing room. Time in representation, thirty-five minutes. 36 BLACK SHEEP, a Br am a in tiive a acts, f com Edmund Yates 1 novel of the sSme name, and arranged for the stage by J. Palgrave Simpson and the author. Seven male and five female characters. Costumes of the present time. Scenery, an interior ; gardens at Homburg, and a handsome parlor. Time in playing, two and a half hours. 37 A SILENT PROTECTOR. A Farce in one act by Thom- as J. Williams. Three male and two female characters. An active, bust- ling piece of ingenuity, which affords abundant opportunities for the display of Quickfidget's eccentricities. Costumes of the period. Scene, a drawing room. Time in representation, forty minutes. 38 THE RIGHTFUL H£IR. A Drama in five acts, by Lord Lytton (Sir Edward Lytton Bulwer). Ten male and two female characters. A revision and improvement of tne author's play of the "Sea Captain," originally produce.l under management of Mr. Mac-ready. Costumes of the English Elizabethan period, armor, doublets, tights, &c. Scenery pictu- resque and elaborate. The play contains numerous scenes and passage's, which could be selected for declamation. Time in representation, two hours and forty-five minutes. 39 MASTER JONES' BIRTHDAY. A Farce in one act, by John Maddison Morton. Four male and two female characters. A very amusing and effective composition, particularly suited to amateurs. Dresses of the day ; and scene, a plain interior. Time of playing, thirty minutes. 40 ATCHI. A Come lie tta in one act, by John Maddison Morton. Three male and two female characters. A gem in pleasantry, whose conclusion is irresistibly comic. Costume of the day. Scene, a taste- fully laid out garden. Time in representation, forty minutes. DE WITT'S ACTING PLAYS. No. 41 BEAUTIFUL FOREVER. A Farce in one Rc*,by Fred- erick Hay. Two male and two female Characters. A sprightly satirical re- buke to tho.se that patronize advertised nostrums. Costumes of the day. Scene, a handsome interior. Time in representation, forty minutes. 42 TIME AND THE HOUR. A Drama in three acts, by J Palgrave Sampson and Felix Dale. Seven male and three female charac- ters. An excellent acting play, full of life and incident, the parts of Medlicott and Marian Beck being capable of impressive representation— all others good. Costumes of the present period. Scenery, gardens and ex- tenor, cottage and garden, and an old oaken chamber. Time in representa- tion, two hours and a half. 43 SISTERLY SERVICE. An original Comedietta in one\ act, by J. P. Wooler. Seven male and two female characters. An interest- ing piece. Costumes, rich dresses of the musketeers of Louis XIII. Scenes, an apartment of that period, and a corridor in the royal palace of France. Time in representation, forty minutes. 44 WAR TO THE KNIFE, a Comedy in three acts, "by Henry J. Byron. Five male and four female characters. A pleasing, enter- taining and morally instructive lesson as to extravagant living ; capitally adapted to the stage. Costumes of the present time. Scenes, three interiors. Time in representation, one hour and three quarters. 45 OUR DOMESTICS. A Comely Farce in two acts, "by Frederick Hay. Six male and six female characters. An irresistibly face- tious exposition of high life below stairs, and ol the way in which servants treat employers dnring their absence. Costumes of the day. Scenes, kitchen and dining room. Time in representation, one hour and a ha. if. 46 MIRIAM'S CRIME. A Brama in three acts, Tby H. T. Craven. Five mal ■• and two female Characters. One of the best acting plays, and easily put on the stage. Costumes modern. Scenery, modern English interiors, two in number. Time in representation, two hours. 41 EASY SHAVING. A Farce in one act, hj F. C. Eur- nand and M ntagu Williams. Five male and two female characters. A neat and effective piece, with excellent parts for low comedian and singing chambermaid. Costumes of the days of Charles II of England. Scene, a barber's shop. Time in representation, twenty-five minutes. 48 LITTLE ANNIE'S BIRTHDAY. An original persona- tion Farce, by W. E. Suter. Two male and four female characters. A good farce, whose effectiveness depends upon a singing young lady, who could make the piece a sure success. Costumes modern. Scene, an apart- ment in /in English country house. Time in representation, twenty-five minutes. 49 THE MIDNIGHT "WATCH. A Dr.-