jti^Pena Publishing (?n\par\^ 4^ Philadelphia SHOEMAKER'S Best Selectioi^s FOR READINGS AND RECITATIONS N'um'bers 1 to 20 Now Issned Paper binding, each number, - 30 cents Cloth " " " - 60 " This series was formerly called "The Elocutionist's Annual," the first 17 numbers being published under that title. The change in name is made because it it believed a more appropriate title is thus secured. Teachers, Readers, Students, and all persons who have occasion to use books of this kind, concede this to be the best series of speakers published. The differ- ent numbers are compiled by leading elocutionists of the country, who have exceptional facilities for securing selections, and whose judgment as to their merits is in- valuable. No trouble or expense is spared to obtain the very best readings and recitations, and much material is used by special arrangement with other publishers, thus securing the best selections from such American authors as Longfellow, Holmes, Whittier, Lowell, Emerson, Alice and Phoebe Gary, Mrs. Stowe, and many others. The foremost English authors are also represented, as well as the leading French and German writers. Sold by all ^Booksellers and Newsdealers, or mailed upon receipt of price. XHK I»EKN rUBLISHIKG COmPAXV T'nao Arch Street Pblladelptaia Between the Acts A Comedy in Three Acts BY B. C. LEASE Philadelphia ^^^^ The Penn Publishing Company 1892 h Copyright, 1892, by The Penn Publishing Co. ARGUMENT. "Dick" Comfort lives comfortably upon an allowance given him by his Uncle Meander, upon the condition that he shall not marry. Despite his uncle's wishes, he has fallen in love and married, being careful to keep the news from his uncle's ears. He and his wife, Edith, have settled a few miles out of New York, and finding the time to hang heavy upon his hands, he occupies himself by writing a play, hoping thereby to win a prize that has been offered. This play he has completed, and all that is necessary is to revise it, which must be done by the evening of the day in which the story takes place. He has revised the first act and is taking a rest "Between the Acts," when the morning mail brings him a letter from his Uncle Meander, stating that he expects to arrive that very day to remain until the afternoon. What is to be done? How is he to keep his uncle from seeing Edith, and so discover that they are married? Ha finally decides that the only thing for him to do is to play bachelor. He dispatches his wife to town upon an errand, having great diffi- culty in preventing his uncle from seeing her, who arrives just before she leaves. Shortly after George Merrigale, an old friend of Dick's, arrives, having run out from town to spend the dav. He also is not aware that Dick is m irried. Seeing a picture of Edith he inquires wh3 is the original, and Dick informs him that it is a photograph of the maid-servant. Tiiis deception is kept up throughout the play. Later in the day Mrs. Meander, Dick's aunt, comes from town. She is not upon very friendly terms with her husband, and so took a later train. Edith also returns, and not knowing Dick's uncle and aunt, thinks Dick has sent her to town so that he could make love to another woman. The others take her for the maid, having been told so by Dick, and Merrigale misunderstanding a remark that Harris, the man-servant, has made, thinks Dick is not only married to his maid, but has another wife beside. He tells this to Meander, who is furious, and after an interview with Edith, dismisses his own wife, whom he does not recognize, and thinks is the other woman. Edith assists him in making peace with Mrs. Meander, and she is so sorry for mistrusting Dick that she willingly forgives him. Meander also, although blaming Dick, who is heartily sorry for the way he has acted, forgives him for Edith's sake, whom he pronounces "a jewel." He tells Dick to continue writing plays for an amusement if he will, but when he is in need of the wherewithal to sustain life to draw upon him "Between the Acts." TIME IN REPRESENTATION. Two hours and a quarter. COSTUMES. " Dick " Comfort. — Ordinary suit. George Merrigale. — ist, Traveling suit, spattered with mud ; 2d, Masquerading costume. Alexander Meander. — Old gentleman's walking suit. Harris. — Man servant suit. Mrs. Clementina Meander. — Old fashioned dress, black bonnet, shawl, etc. Mrs. Edith Comfort. — ist, House dress ; 2d, same with bonnet, etc. Sally. — Servant's dress. PROPERTIES. Act I. — Letter for Comfort, which he is discovered reading ; a quantity of paper, writing materials, and cabinet photograph on table ; newspaper for Meander ; cigar for Merrigale to smoke ; boxes for Harris to enter with. Act II. — Dusting-brush for Harris ; money for Comfort to give Harris ; handkerchief for Merrigale ; bag for Sally. Act III.— Newspaper for Merrigale ; glass of water on table for Comfort. CAST OF CHARACTERS. "Dick" Comfort^ married, yet single, George Merrigale, an unfriendly friend, Alexander Meander, Dick's uncle. Blamed but blameless, Harris, Comfort's man-servant. Mrs. Clementina Meander, Dick's aunt. Blameless, but blamed. Edith Comfort, Dick's wife. ''Unknown^ un- honored, and unsung!^ Sally, Mrs, Meander s Maid, Act I and II— Morning. Act III— -Afternoon, stage directions. R. R- c C< L. C. L. The playef is supposed to face the audience, r., means right; L., left; c, centre; R, c, right of centre; i>. C, left of centre; D. F., door In fiat or scene across back oi stage ; R, d., right door ; L. D., left door; l. d, 1, Idi door, ist entrance; l. d. 2, left door, 2d entrance. BETWEEN THE ACTS. Act I. SCENE. — Handsomely furnished drawing-room in Dick Comfort's house. Comfort discovered standing by ta- ble, reading letter attentively. Comfort {after pause) What shall I do ? Here is a letter from Uncle Meander, stating that he is coming to spend the day. When he told me, four years ago, that I should be his heir and that he would allow me $2,500 a year during his lifetime, I raised no objection whatever ; in fact the idea rather pleased me. But there was to be one con- dition — that I should never marry. I had no desire to marry then ; that was four years ago. But one can't help falling in love; {poiutino;- to himself) at least this one couldn't. Who wouldn't fall in love with Edith ? And ever since Edith and I were married, six months ago, I have been in constant fear and trembling lest Uncle should hear of it. This visit will upset all my calculations. He will discover the truth and then my chances of succession will vanish. What is to be done ? {Reads letter) " Will arrive Thurs- day morning " — that is to-day — " and will be compelled to leave by the afternoon train." The afternoon train goes at four o'clock. {Thoughtfulh') Now, if I could prevent a meeting between Edith and Uncle Meander ; if I could play the part of a bachelor, just for to-day — by George ! I have half a mind to try it ; that is my only chance ; my last hope. I'll do it. But what is to be done with Edith ? {Enter Mrs. Comfort, d. l. 2.) Mrs. C. Dick (Com. starts), won't you take a drive with me this morning ? Com. My dear Edith, I— I fear I am too busy this morning. Mrs. C. You do not appear so. Com. Well, in this case, appearances are deceitful. \—^ 7 8 BETWEEN THE ACTS. am devoting myself to-day to the revising of my comedy. It has to be sent in to-morrow, you know ; that's why I am working so hard. I have just finished making the necessary corrections in Act I, so I thought I was en- titled to a few minutes rest. Mrs. C. Oh ! I wish you had never begun to write your old play. Suppose you should win the prize, what good would it do you ? Com. But, my dear Edith, think of the fame. Mrs. C. And of what use would that be to you ? Would it help you remember your wife ? Would you think of her happiness any more than you do now ? Com. No, not more than now, for you know that to see my wife happy is my greatest wish. I would enjoy a drive in your company, far more than working all day, but duty before pleasure, you know, work before play. Mrs. C. But your play is before everything. Com. And yet, it is not recreation. My play is work — very hard work, too ; but, on the other hand, my work is all play, so it is the combination of these two evils that makes me, in your eyes, a dull boy. But I — I am very glad that you intend to take a drive. It is such beautiful weather ; suppose you drive into town and spend the day with your mother. Mrs. C. Why, I wouldn't get home until late this after- noon. Com. {half aside) Yes, I know. Mrs. C. Besides, I spent all last week in town. No, unless you will go with me, I shall not take a drive to-day. Com. But, my dear Edith, there is a little commission I want you to execute for me in town. I — I need some paper, in fact, I must have it, or I can't finish my play to- night. Mrs. C. You have plenty of paper; look here. {Takes up a quantity of paper from table}) Com. {confused) Yes — but — a — but this is not the right kind. Mrs. C. What kind do you wish ? Com. Oh ! any kind will do ; buy all kinds. Mrs. C. But Dick, can't Harris purchase it, just as well as I ? Com. No, no, you are the only one that can do it, that is to say, you are the one I wish to go to town, I — I — mean — ■ oh ! {earnestly) Edith, if 3^ou love me, do go. Mrs. C. Very well, my dear, if you wish it ; but I shall BETWEEN THE ACTS. 9 take the train, it is too long a drive. How much paper shall I buy ? Com. Oh ! any amount ; I shall need a great quantity ; as much as you can bring home. (Aside) Tiie mox e she pur- chases the longer it will take her. Mrs. C. (aside) Poor boy, he is so nervous ; he has been working entirely too hard. Com. (looking at watch) Nine o'clock! You will just have time to catch the train. I shall order the carriage to take you to the depot. (Calling) Harris ! Mrs. C. But, Dick, the train doesn't leave until nine thirty. Com. Yes — you can just make it, no more. (Calling) Harris ! Mrs. C. There is plepty of time. (Exit Mrs. C. d. l. i.) Com. (calling loudly) Harris ! (Enter Harris d. f.) Har. Did you ring, sir? Com. (sharply) No, I didn't ring, but I have been calling you for the last half-hour. Har. Yes, sir. Com. Order the carriage immediately. Har. Yes, sir. (Aside) His honor is in good spirits this mornin'. (Exit Harris, d. f.) Com. If Edith will only leave before Uncle Meander arrives all will be well (takes 2ip MS. from table) Here's my comedy ; two acts yet to revise before to-night. Oh ! why did uncle choose to-day for a visit ! I will be too busy to entertain him, he must amuse himself. I suppose I had better work while I have the opportunity (sits at table) Let me see. Act I is completed ; I am glad of it. Now for Act II (takes tip pen, stops as if listening) Carriage-wheels ! Can it be Uncle Meander {idses and goes to wi?idow in back of stage) ! By George ! it must be he ; that is the hack from the depot. Now what am I to do ? Mrs. C. (calling from without) Dick ! Com. (comijig down stage) Yes, my dear; no hurry; there is plenty of time. (Aside) I must resort to desperate measures (locks door L. i). There, she is caged. (Enter Meander d. f.) Mean. Well, Richard, my boy, here I am. Com. Ah ! uncle ! I am delighted. You're looking as hale and hearty as ever, I see. Mean. Yes, never was in better health. You needn't hope to get rid of me for many years, although, no doubt, you wish it, you young rascal (digs him in the ribs). Com. (deprecatingly) O uncle 1 .^ lO BETWEEN THE ACTS. Mean. Well, Richard, it has been four years since last I saw you. You're not married yet I hope. Com. {itervously) Married ! The idea of my marrying. Oh ! no I— Mrs. C. {calling from without^ Dick! Com. {coughs violently'). Mean. Did any one call ? Com. {confused) No, oh ! no ! that's only the parrot. {Aside) How shall I prevent them from meeting.? ^To Meander) Uncle, you must be very tired after your journey {taking him by the arm) : I am sure, you would likj to rest awhile {leading him toward d. r.) Come ; right in here. Me\n. {hesitatingly) But, my dear boy, I really do not feel fatigued. Com. Oh ! yes ; I am sure you do. Mrs. C. {calling from without) Dick! Com. {nervously) The parrot, only the parrot ; speaks very plainly, doesn't it .'* M^AN. Do you keep it in a cage? Com. Yes, oh! yes; she is caged! I — I mean it is. Ri^'it in here, unzle {pushes him into room r., shuts door an i locks it). Now he's caged. What shall I do with them ? I will dispose of EJith first {goes to d. l. i and unlocks it car 2 fully). Edith, rny dsar, you must make haste. {Calls) Harris! {Enter Mrs. C. d. l. i. Dressed ready to go out.) Com. You will lose the train. {Enter Harris, d. f.) Mrs. C. But, Dick, you said there was plenty of time. Com. So there was, but — a — there is no time now. {To Harris) Harris, is the carriage ready H\RRis. It is at the door, sir. Com. {sharply) That's what I asked you. {To Mrs. C.) Good-bye, my d^ar {kisses her). You won't return until this evening, will you? No, that's right; I won't expect you until then. (Mean, pounds upon door) Mrs. C. What's that? Com. {confussi) Oh ! that's — a — that's only the dog. Harris. No, sir; I just seen the dog down — Com. Keep quiet! do you hear! I've had enough of your impudence this morning. {To Mrs. C.) Good-bye, Edith {kisses her again). Spend the day at your mother's. GD^d-b/e {hurries her out d. f. ; exit Harris d. f.) Mn:AM. {hounds on the door and calls) Richard ! Com. The dog is becoming noisy; Edith left just in time. {Unlocks door k) Why, uncle, what is the matter? {Enter Mean. d. r.) Did you lock yourself in ? BETWEEN THE ACTS. II Mean, {ivith suppressed temper) Lock myself in ! No, certainly not ! how could I, when the key was on the out- side ? Com. {holding key in hand) So it is. It was a mistake. Harris must have done it ; what a stupid fellow he is ! I have given instructions that these doors be always kept closed, and Harris, with his natural craving to obey orders, must have locked you in. Mean, Well, your servant's yearning to be obedient was misdirected in this case ; see that it does not occur again. Com. {half aside) I hope there will be no necessity. Mean. There was no necessity Ihis time. Com. {qnickl}^ No, of course not, of course not. Mean, {snspieioiisly) By the way, Richard, I heard a woman's voice ; whose was it ? Com. That was the parrot. Mean. But the parrot is not in this room. This was a woman — I am sure of it ; she was talking to some man. Com. {confnsea) Oh ! it — I mean she was — Harris, you know — the maid talking to Harris. {Earnestly') But, uncle, you couldnt't understand what they said, coufd you ? Mean. No, not perfectly. I thought I heard the man say " good-bye." Com. That was to the maid, you know, she was going to spend the day in town. Mean. Then the man spoke of a dog ; do you keep dogs ? Com. Oh ! yes, about a dozen. Mean. A dozen dogs and a parrot ! You seem to be fond of the animal kingdom. Any others ? Com. Not that 1 can think of at present. You see, I — I live such a quiet and retired life I find it necessary to have some companions. Mean. " You evidently believe in quantity before quality. I am glad that your companions are chosen from among the brute creation, from the animals that are blessed with being created dumb ; there is a kind of animal — about which I have often warned 3^ou — whose oratorical powers are very great. In that animal's eyes we 7nen are considered as members of the brute creation. Com. {deprecatingh^ O uncle ! how very ungallant. Mean. It's true nevertheless ; take your servant for ex- ample — {enter Harris, d. f.) — with all his dumbness he is far superior to — Har. Mr. Comfort, sir ! Com. {turning) What do you mean, you rascal ! 12 BETWEEN THE ACTS. Har. There's a gent — Com. Silence ! Har. Yes, sir, but — Com. Did you hear me ? Har. Yes, sir, but Mr. Marygal told me to — Com. Merrigale ! George Merrigale ! Har. I don' know, sir ; but he just arriv'. Com. Why didn't you say so ? Har. I was attemptin' to, sir, but — i Com. You're too confounded slow. Har. Yes, sir. Com. Show Mr. Merrigale up immediately — now don't ask me " when " — immediately ! {Exit Harris, d. f.) Com. {To Mean.) George is an old friend of mine, un- cle ; I haven't seen him for a year. {Aside suddenly recol- lecting) Deuce take it all ! He knows all about my mar- riage ; he will ruin me. {Aloud) Uncle, you didn't half rest yourself did you ? {taking him by the arm) Come, take another nap. Mean. But I feel no need of rest. Com. Then take a walk over the grounds ; I know you will enjoy it ; right out this way. {Leads him toward r.) Mean. No, Richard, I would far rather remain. {Enter Merrigale, d. f., clothing spattered with mud) Mer. Ah ! Dickie, my boy. I've come in the shape of a little surprise ; it is a surprise, isn't it ? Com. Yes, I must confess it is. Mer. I knew it. Haven't seen you for nearly a year, have I ? How am I looking, eh ? Com. a trifle seedy. Mer. Eh ! I knew you would say so. You must excuse my good looks ; {poi?iti7ig to mud) these beauty marks were gathered along the road. What a deuced slow place you have out here, old fellow ; I had to walk all the way from the depot. Only one cab, and some old duffer took that, so I had to foot it {seeing Mean, aside) By jove 1 there he is. ( To Comfort) Pre- sent us, old man. Com. {aside) There is no escape. ( To Mean.) Uncle, let me introduce an old friend of mine, Mr. Merrigale. Mer. The honor is mine, sir. {Aside) Dick's uncle ! A — Mr. Comfort, I suppose. Mean, {crossly) I never claimed it. Mer. Quite right, sir. Mean, {with dig?iity) I consider the title which you have just applied to me very inappropriate, sir. BETWEEN THE ACTS. I3 Mer. You mean, " old duffer "? Oh ! don't let that make you uneasy ; you couldn't help it, you know. Mean, {aside) A very forward fellow. Com. {a7ixious to get Mer. out of the room) George, I know you would like to change your clothes. Mer. Why, I've scarcely had time to shake hands with you yet, old fellow {takes his hand). I am stopping in for a few days, and thought I would just run out and see an old friend. Too slow out here for me, though. I'd petrify in a few days. Ah ! Dickie J we don't have the lively times we used to, do we ? What a gay bird you were ! Com. Perhaps I was before I — ahem — Mer. Married, eh ! ' ■ Com. {coughs violently). Mer. Don't be bashful, old man {looki?ig around). Where do you keep her ? I never saw her, you know ; left home just after the engagement was announced and went to India. Com. {co7ighs again). Mer. Bad cough that, old man. Mean. Mr. Merriwind, may I ask to whose engagement you were referring ? Com. {aside) It is all over with me. Mer. Certainly, sir. To Dick's ; sly dog, isn't he ? Always was a gay sort of a chap, you know, but I never thought he cared for the ladies. The first I knew, he was engaged. Mean. Richard, you told me nothing of this {sternly). Have you deceived me, sir ? Com. O uncle ! pray spare my feelings. Mean, {aside) He appears agitated. {Aloud) Was the engagement broken off? Did it end as most of these love affairs do ? . Com. Yes, sir — it — a — it came to a sudden end — about six months ago. {Aside) I was married then. {To Merri- gale) George, won't you please go and change your clothing? Mer. Certainly, old chap, but — a — this is the only suit I have with me. Com. I will lend you one. {Calling) Harris! Mer. Awful sorry for my mistake, old man. Com. a very natural one, but — a — please make no more. {Enter Harris d. f.) {To Harris) Harris show Mr. Merrigale to my room. George, I think I left one of my suits on a chair ; you can wear that while yours is being cleaned. 14 BETWEEN THE ACTS. Har. Yes, sir. {Exeunt Harris and Merrigale d. L. 2.) Mean. Now, Richard, explain matters ! Why did you not notify me of your engagement ? Com. {confused) Well, uncle, I — I — I can hardly tell; you were away at the time, you know. Mean, Dldyo?t end the engagement or the girl ? Com. It was by mutual consent ; I — I think perhaps I was the more anxious of the two. Mean. I am very glad that it did end. You know that a wife would only make trouble between us. Com. Yes, I know. Mean. Never let me hear of your marriage, or — you know the consequences. Com. I am doing my best and I assure you, uncle, that ever since my — a — my — engagement came to an end I have never once thought of another woman. Mean. That's right, Richard ; you show your good sense. What time does the next train arrive from town ? Com. {looking at watch) There was one due a few minutes ago. Mean. That is the one my wife was to take. Com. {surprised) Your wife ! Not Aunt Clementina ! Mean. Of course ; how many wives do you credit me with? Com. But you said nothing about her coming. ' Mean. Didn't I mention it in my letter? That was a great oversight. She stopped in town ; said she would come in the next train. Com. {aside) I seem to be holding a reception to-day. Mean. In case, Richard, you notice anything peculiar in my actions toward my wife, do not be alarmed ; we have had a little misunderstanding and at present do not speak. Com. That's too bad. Mean. Oh ! no ; it's a little pleasantry on her part, that's all. You may perhaps think it affectation, but through force of habit it has become a second nature. And, by the way, should she inquire if you " know who that individual is " — which means me — it would be just as well for you to plead ignorance. Com. What do you mean ? You want me to act as if you were a stranger ? Mean. Oh! no, that will be unnecessary. Just tell her — if she should ask the question — that you do not know me. She will like you all the better for it and it won't hurt my feelings in the slightest ; that is another second nature. BETWEEN THE ACTS. 1 5 But if you do not object, we will drop the subject of wives, Richard. Com. Willingly, sir. Mean. That parrot of yours — is it a Chrysotis or an Erithacus ? Com. {bewildered) Just a — a plain green one, sir ; a talk- ing one, you know. Mean. I should like very much to see it. (^;2/^r Harris D. L. 2.) Com. {confused) I — I am very sorry, but — Mean. No butting, Richard, your man can bring it. (To Harris) James, bring the parrot. Har. {surprised) The which, sir? Mean. The parrot. Har. I — I am afraid, sir — Com. {quickly) Afraid ! of what ? bring the bird in- stantly. Har, You mean the stuffed one in the library, sir? Com. Stuff and nonsense ! the one in the — a — the right wing. Har. {bewildered) Ye-es, sir. Com. Be quick now, and don't return without it. Har. Yes, sir. {Exit d. f.) Mean. Have you more than one parrot? Com. Oh ! yes, half a dozen ; I — I quite overlooked the others. {Enter Mer. d. l. 2, dressed in clown's costume.) Mer. Is this the best you could do for me, old man ? Com. Why what in the deuce have you got on ? Mer. That is more than I can tell you. This is the suit I found on the chair. Your man took my suit before I had a chance to look for yours ; then it was this or nothing. I preferred this. Com. I am glad you gave it the preference. But I didn't mean that suit. That is a masquerading costume. {Befrinning to laugh) George you look like a perfect clown. Mer. And so I am — I — I — mean — say Dickie, it is hardly kind to dress me up just for your own amusement. Com. {still laughing) Forgive me, old fellow, but do take off those ridiculous garments. Mer. Oh ! I quite enjoy them ; makes me feel young again, you know {dances to table, sees photograph of M.^?,. C. and examines it). Mean. ( To Com.) He acts young ; childish, I should call it. Mer. I say, Dickie, who is she ? Deuced fine looking girl. l6 BETWEEN THE ACTS. Com. {ctside) My wife's photograph ! {coughs viole?itly then quic/tly) As I was saying, uncle, I am exceedingly fond of parrots, in fact, I make them a specialty. The green ones are my favorites, I think ; they are so — a — so green, you know. Mer. {coming down stage with photograph i?i hand) Who did you say she was, Dickie ? Any relation ? Com. {feigning ignorance) Relation ! Who ! What ! Mer. Why this stunning looking girl {showing photo- graph to Mean, and digging him in ribs) A beauty, eh ! Com. {looking at photograph) Where did you find that ? Mer. On the table ; who is she ? Com. {at a loss what to say) She — it, I mean — no — that is to say she is — a — the maid-servant, only the maid-servant. Mer. Maid-servant! By jove, she is far too good look- ing for a maid-servant {handing photograph to Mean.) What do you think of that, eh ? {digs him in ribs) looks like a princess in disguise, don't she ? Mean. But, Richard, how comes a picture of a maid- servant on your sitting-room table .^ I do not admire your taste. Com. I really don't know ; I — I suppose Harris must have left it there. No doubt she gave it to him and he for- got it. Mean. A very careless fellow. Com. Yes, very. Mer. {gazing at photograph) What's the fair creature's name, Dickie ? Com. {hesitating) A — ^a — Sallie. Mer. Pretty name ; can't we see her, old man ? Come, now, trot her out. Com. Impossible ! Mer. Oh ! do now. Com. Impossible, I tell you. She has gone to town. {Aside) I have told more lies to-day than is good for my health. Mer. When will she return? Com. {sharply) It appears to me, Merrigale, you take a great interest in my — my maid. Mer. I do. Com. {aside) I am becoming positively afraid of that man's questions. A few more and he will discover — Mer. I say, Dickie, can't you tell me — Com. {interrupting) No, I can't. I — I am very sorry, but — a — not now, there is something that requires my atten- tion. {Aside) That's another lie ; I am getting in over my BETWEEN THE ACTS. 1 7 head ; it will be best for me to withdraw from this man's cross-questioning, until he changes the subject. {Aloud) Gentlemen, I hope you will excuse me for a moment; I shall return presently. {Exit d. l. 2.) Mer. It's a shame that such a clipper of a girl should spend her days as a maid-servant, don't you think so ? M'E k^. {s/iarplv) I don't think anything about it. {Takes 7iewspaper from pocket, sits and reads.) Mer. I knew you w^ould say so ; of course you don't ///z>//^ anything about it; neither do I, we k?iow it. How would you like to live in solitude as a maid-servant, eh ? ( Waits for reply) Just imagine yourself a maid-servant ; you wouldn't like it, would you? Of course, I mean, if you were accustomed to better things {coiifused), that is to say, I — I — mean — {looks at Mean., who pays no aiiention) {aside) I hardly think it is worth my while to mean anything ; he doesn't appear to be interested. {A pause) {silting) . This is rather slow. {Enter Harris d. ¥., closely followed by Mrs. Mean, and Sallie.) Har. Mrs. Clementina Meander, sir! (Mean, starts^ b7it continues to read paper. Mer. rises.) Mrs. Mean, {screams) Sarah, what is that creature ! Sal. One of thim ring circus clowns, mum. Har. If that ain't Mr. Marygal, disguised. (7^^ Mer.) I won't tell her who you are, sir. Mer. Disguised ! Nonsense ! I am Mr. George Merrigale, madam, at your service. Mrs. M. {patronizingly') I think you can hardly be of any service to me, my man. Har. This is Mr. Comfort's friend, Mr. Marygal, mam. {To Mer.) I thought you were disguised, sir. Mrs. M. Mr. Comfort's friend ! Har. That's what I remarked, mam. Mrs. M. Sarah, did he say Mr. Comfort's friend? Sal. Indade, thet's jist what he did said, mum. Mrs. M. {half aside) What must his enemies be like ! {Exit Har. d. f. laughing) Mer. Madam, I am exceedingly sorry that I should have caused you and your daughter any annoyance. Mrs. M. My daughter! This is my French maid. (Sal. curtesies, Mean, begins to whistle) Mrs. M. {starts) Sarah, who is that individual ? Sal. Sure an' I don't know, mum ; sounds like some whistlin' stame dummy. (Mean, appears insulted and stops whistling) Mer. That's Mr. Comfort, Dick's uncle, you know. 1 8 BETWEEN THE ACTS. Mrs. M. Comfort ! Sarah, did he say Comfort ? Sal. Indade he did, mum. Mrs. M. a blackbird may think it is disguised by call- ing itself an eagle, but I am not to be deceived ; I know a blackbird when I see one. {To Mean.) Do you hear me? Mer. Oh! yes, I — I hear! of course you do. {Aside) What is she talking about ? Sal. And I know a blackbird, too, mum. Mer. Certainly; so do I. {Aside) There is nothing so very remarkable about that. {To Mrs. Mean.) I will pre- sent the gentleman, madam. (Mean, appears uncomfort- able.) Mrs. M. Stop! young man, you know not what you are about to do. Mer. Oh ! yes'm, I do ! Mrs. M. That — that person and I are strangers. Mer. Yes, I know, but — Mrs. M. And I prefer that we should remain strangers. (^To Mean.) Do you hear me, sir? Strangers forever! Mer. I — I beg your pardon. I — I do not wish to force his acquaintance upon you. I think, however, you would find him a pleasant companion, but, of course, just as you please. {Aside) Seems a little eccentric. Mrs. M. Sarah, he knows my wishes upon the subject, does he not ? Sal. Iny common, horse-sensed individual would, mum. (Mean, starts whistling) Mrs. M. That — that creature is making those peculiar noises again ; they give me the shivers. Mer. {To Mean.) My dear sir, won't you postpone your music until a more auspicious moment ? This lady seriously objects. (Mean, continues to whistle. Enter Comfort d. l. 2.) Com. Ah ! my dear aunt ! Mer. {aside) Dick's aunt ! Com. I have not kept you waiting long, I hope. Mrs. M. {embracing hini) A very long time, Richard; a very long time. Com. But I feel confident that my friend Merrigale has entertained you. Mrs. M. Your friend! Is he indeed your friend! {To Sal,) Sarah, have my ears deceived me ? I understood him to call this — this person his friend. Sal. Yez eared aright, mum, *' me frind " is jist what he was sayin'. BETWEEN THE ACTS. 19 Mrs. M. O Richard ! how low you have fallen. Alas ! how true it is, " a man is known by the company he keeps." I little thought your friends would be found among circus clowns and— a — horse jockeys. (Mean, coniiols langhier with difficulty) . Mer. But, my dear madam — Com. Why, aunt, you do not understand. Mr. Merrigale is neither a horse jockey nor a clown, but a genlkn.an of leisure. His clothes were so dirty that I insisted upon his wearing one of my suits, but by mistake he put on a masquerading costume. Looks funny, doesn't he.? {Laifghs and is joined by Mean.) Mean, {aside) The idea! took him for a circus clown ! Served him right though. Mrs. M. (y^ith dionitj) It seems strange that a gentle- man of means, such as you hold your friend to be, should wear unclean clothing, and I cannot imagine why you should have in your possession such a costume. (Meander laughs.) Richard, who is that individual ? Com. That ! why you know, that's — {suddenly recollect- ing), I — I — I really don't know, aunt. Mean, {aside) He just saved himself. Mer. {aside) What's Dickie talking about? Mrs. M. I am pleased that you do not know him ; he has done nothing but insult me ever since I entered the house. Com. Insult you ! Sal. Thet's jist what I belave he has bin a-doin', as we all on us knows. Mrs. M. He is very objectionable, Richard; please see that he is removed. (Mean, whistles) Com. {ha7ightily) Would you be so kind as to absent yourself, sir. {Aside to Mean.) Uncle, you'll find some choice cigars in the smoking-room. Mean, {jHsing) I never smoke, but I shall withdraw from this apartment with great pleasure. {Exit d. r.) Com. George, I know that you are partial to a good cigar — Mer. Yes, your knowledge is correct ; you know my weakness, and if you will excuse me, I will join your uncle. {Exit D. r.) Mrs. M. {throwing her arms around Comfort) O Richard ! my life is not a happy one ! Sal. Nor moine, nather. mum. Mrs. M. Sarah, you will refrain from those unnecessary remarks. 20 BETWEEN THE ACTS. Sal. I — I was mainen on account of 'im, mum ; and sayin' yez a-pinin' yez own swate silf away, mum. Mrs. M. Yes, alas ! it is too true ! Here, Sarah, take my hat and shawl {gives them to her. Beginniiig to cry) I am pining myself into a shadow ; I am so ill-treated. Com. That's too bad. Do you have many — many quar- rels? Mrs. M. {crying) Their name is legion. Sal. For they are many. She quarrels with 'im all the toime, sor. Mrs. M. {sterfil}^ Sarah 1 / never quarrel. Sal. In course yez don't, mum ; it's 'im thet quarrels. Mrs. M. {throwing her arms arowid Com. and laying her head oji his shoidder^ I am so ill-treated that I have not where to lay my weary head. Com. {aside) She appears to have had practice some- where. Mrs. M. Even my husband considers me a burden. Com. {aside) She is a trifle heavy. Mrs. M. I have become in his eyes his servant ; a mere dependent. Com. {aside) She acts like a hanger-on. Mrs. M. Ah, Richard, if you were married, you would understand. Com. {starting) Married ! ha-ha, the idea of my marry- ing. {Enter Mrs. C. d. f.) Mrs. M. But you will marry some day. {Enter Mean. and Mer. d. r., Mer. smoki?ig.) Com. But I am ?iot married, nor have I any desire to be. (Mrs. Q..' screams) Mrs. M. {turning) Richard, who is this woman ? Com. {confused) Oh ! that — a — she — you know — she is my — my maid-servant. {Enter Har. d. f. ca7^rying boxes. Mrs. C. lea?is against hv7t.) Tableau. Act II. SCENE. — Same as Act I Boxes piled by talle. Harris discovered dusting. Har. I can't understand it. The governor never acted like this before; leastwise not since I've knowed him. He must have somethin' on his mind — that is, on part of his mind — I'm afear'd the t'other part h'aint there. {Tapping his foi^ehead) I'm afeared he's just a little queer kinder, as it were. The idea of blamin' everything on me, when I never done nothin' ; and then talking about parrots and one thing an' another ; tellin' me go fetch the parrot in the right wing an' not to come back until I done it. Dog me cats ! I'd never have got back at all if it hadn't a-been for the missus, an' them boxes. {Looking at boxes by table) Just look at 'em ; I had to carry 'em up-stairs two at onct, and it warn't no easy job, nuther. Wonder what's in 'em ? {Examines.) {Enter Com. d. l. 2.) Com. {sharply) Harris ! (Har. starts) Leave those boxes alone 1 Har. Yes, sir ; I was goin' to — when you came in — Com. You were going to do nothing of the kind. {Goes to table.) Har. Goin' to do what, sir ? Com. {angrily) Leave the room ! Har. No, sir ; I warn't. Com. Leave the room, do you hear ! Har. {meekly) Yes, sir {aside) I'm afeared he's a little touched in the 'ead, as it were {going). Com. {calling) Harris ! Har. {stopping) Yes, sir. Com. {sitting) You may think that I have been acting in — a — a somewhat peculiar manner to-day. Har. Seein' as it were you, sir, I didn't think nothin' on it. Com. {angrily) What! Har. I — I mean, sir, it warn't for me to think. You can act as it pleases you, sir. Com. Oh ! I can ? Har. Yes, sir. Com. {dryly) Thank you. 21 22 BETWEEN THE ACTS. Har. {snrpT'ised) Sir! Com. I said, " Thank you." Har. Yes, sir. {Aside) I'm sure I don't know what he's thankin' me for. Com. Perhaps I may have blamed you for one or two little things that you did not do. Har. If I might be so bold, sir, I will say, that now you speak on it, perhaps there was one or two little matters that I didn't hexactly know what your meanin' were. Com. {iJwughtfully) Yes, perhaps there were, but — they were necessary. Har. Yes, sir. {Hesitating) A-a might I ask, sir, what parrot I was to fetch by the wing, as it were ? Com. Never mind the parrot, Harris ; it is an unpleas- ant subject. {Gives money) Here, take this. Har. {aside) He is certainly crazy. Com. And be sure and say nothing to t'le o'lier servants of this conversation. Now you may leave the room. HaR. Thank ye, sir. {Exit d. f.) Com. What a dumb-head that iellow is. By George ! here's my play ; I had forgotten it. My rest, between the acts, has been a long one, but it can hardly be called a rest ; never worked harder in m}^ life. Since I started upon my diplomatic career — we will give it the beneht of the doubt and call it diplomacy — I have told so many lies that now they come without my assistance — in fact, they almost say themselves, and I have great difficulty in keeping them back. They are cheap, but very uselul ; the question is whether I won't have to pay for them some day. I am. afraid the bill will be a large one, for I keep a running account. Now that Edith has returned, my ingenuity will be taxed to its utmost. How in the deuce did Edith get back so soon ? She must have bought the paper in the village ; I'll wager the stationer made his fortune. I iiave said nothing to her since her return ; haven't had the chance, and I can't say that I desire one. {Enter Mrs. C. D. L. I, goes toward d. f.) Com. {rising) By jove ! the chance has come {getting in her way). My dear Edith, I — Mrs. C. {very liaughtily) Sir! Com. {stepping aside quickly') I — I merely wished to in- quire if you — you had paid the freight on these boxes. Mrs. C. I have no reply to make. {Exit d. f.) Com. Fhew ! 1 feel crushed {sits at table) {tiyingtolangh) Ha-ha-ha- ; I don't care ; it's a good joke {laugJwig very weakl}') ha-ha {picks np peii) I must work {starts to write.) Mer. enteri7ig d. r. on tiptoe^ still in clown's costume^ BETWEEN THE ACTS. 23 Com. {throwing pen on floor) Confound it ! I have no ideas. Mer. Shew! That's nothing new. Don't make such a noise, old man ; you'll waken him. Com. Waken whorh ? Mer. Your uncle ; I left him in the smoking-room, trying to raise the roof. My, how he does snore. I was telling him one of my best stories, too, and would you believe it, he fell fast asleep. Com. That was only natural. Mer. Very unnatural I call it. The story was good ; about a man, you know, that — Com. {interrupting) Sorry, George, but I am very busy to- day, please postpone your interesting tale. Mer. Well, I want— Com. No stories, George ; {aside) I have a monopoly on stories. Mer. All right then, some other time ; but I wan't to ask you about that maid-servant, I would like to — Com. {angrily) Hang the maid-servant ! Mer. Hang her ! oh ! no, I — Com. Then shoot her ! Mer. Why, Dick, old fellow, what ails you ? Com. Nothing. {A pause) If you really must know the truth about her I suppose I will have to tell you. {Aside) Now for another lie. {To Mer.) She is a relation of mine. Mer. Oh! that accounts for your interest in her. Com. My interest ! It strikes me you show the more in- terest of the two. Mer. But how is it that she is in your employ as a ser- vant? Com. {hesitating) Well — she is not exactly my maid. Mer. Your housekeeper perhaps. Com. {quickly) Yes, my housekeeper. {Aside) Why didn't I think of that before. {To Mer.) She was poor and alone in the world, you know, so I thought it was only charitable to give her a home. I tell you this, Merrigale, so that in case you notice any familiarity on her part toward me you will understand. Mer. Yes, certainly. I knew she was not an ordinary servant ; and, by the w^ay, old ma i, I'm afraid you hurt her feelings by calling her a maid; these poor relations are of- ten very sensitive, you know. Com. It was rather unkind, I admit. {Aside, looking off D. F.) Byjove! here she comes. I must keep them from 24 BETWEEN THE ACTS. meeting. (To Mer.) George, quick, hide yourself ! {Taking his arm) Here, back of this screen ! Mer. What's the matter, old man ? Com. My — my housekeeper is coming. Mer. I don't mind meeting her. Com. Yes, but I — I wish to apologize to her, and I would rather do it without your assistance. Make haste ! {Pushes Mer. back of screen) {Enter Mrs. C. d. f. — Com. leans agai7ist table and looks in another direction}^ Mrs. C. {after pause, pleadingly) Dick ! Com. Please don't call me Dick. You know I never like you to call me by my first name before company, I — I mean when we have company. Mrs. C. Why, Dick! Com. There you go again. Mrs. C. You know I always call you " Mr. Comfort " before people, but {looki?ig arotmd) — but there's no one here. Com. {quickly) Of course there isn't. {Nervously) Who — who said there was ? Mrs. C. Oh ! won't you tell me what is the matter ? What have I done ? Are you ill ? Com. No, certainly not. . Mrs. C. Then why do you act so strangely ? Why did you call me a maid ? Com. That was a mistake, a lapsus lingua — I — I am sorry. Mrs. C. Won't you kiss me and tell me you love me ? Com. {coughs nervously) Why, of course not ; I — I couldn't do that. Mrs. C. {beginning to cry) Don't you love me, Dick ? Com. {aside) What will George think of this? {To Mrs. C.) Now you mustn't act that way. We have talked this matter over before, and you know my' feelings toward you perfectly well ; it would not only be utterly useless for me to tell you that I loved you, but — a — but under the cir- cumstances, ridiculous, Mrs. C. {stopping ctying) I see it all ; you do not love me. You sent me out of the house so that you could make love to another woman. Who was that woman ? {Becom- ing excited) You are afraid to tell me. Com. You ought to know who she is. Mrs. C. You have forgotten the woman you once loved. Vou have forgotten her whom you promised to — Com. I promised nothing ; you are talking nonsense. Mrs. C. Oh ! of course, you say so. BETWEEN THE ACTS. 25 Com. I am perfectly willing to tell you who the lady was. Mrs. C. I do not wish to hear. Com. But I want to — Mrs. C. I won't listen to you {goes toward d, l. i). Com. But you must. Mrs. C. I won't. {Exit d. l. i, shicts and locks door.) Mer. {coming from behitid screeri) Has she gone. I'm glad you hid me, old fellow. Com. {dryly) So am I. Mer. She appeared slightly agitated; what have you been doing to worry her so ? Com. Nothing whatever ; it is simply a woman's whim. Mer. Ah! that accounts for it; I never could under- stand these women. But say, old man, don't you think you are a little hard on her, she seems very fond of you. Com. {ijidifferently) You think so ? Mer. Yes, judging from appearances. Com. That's just the trouble. I don't object to her being fond of me — in fact, I rather admire her taste — but I don't like her to show it. {Aside) Not to-day at least. Mer. But don't you think you ought to make some allowance ? Perhaps she is naturally of a suspicious nature, and possessing a deep feeling for you — as her benefactor you know — she is jealous when you show attention to others. Com. But I am not attentive to others. Mer. Perhaps not, Dickie, perhaps not ; you used to be, you know. Com. {angrily) Confound it ! Merrigale, I know more about this matter than you. Mer. Well you ought to. Com. {aside) I wish I didn't. {To Mer.) And your advice is not asked or wanted. Mer. Now, don't get angry, old man ; no offense in- tended, I assure you. Com. Well, please drop the subject, once and for all. Mer. Certainly, if you wish it. {Enter Harris d. f.) Har. The man wants to know, sir, how long he has to wait before you pay him, sir. Com. What man ? Har. The man 'as brought them boxes, sir ; he's waitin' ever since he came. Com. Of course he has, you idiot. Har. Yes, sir. Com. I didn't ask him to wait. 26 BETWEEN THE ACTS. Har. Nor me neither, sir. Com. Why didn't you tell me before ? Send him up ;but no, 1 will go down. {Aside) I don't want the fellow to blurt out anything aoout my wiie, before Merrigale. {Exit Com. D. F.) Mer. Harris, where is Mrs. Meander? Har. I don't know, sir ; fightin' with her husband, I reckon. Mer. Her what ! Har. Her husband, sir; maybe you thinks as Mrs. Meander hadn't a husband, but she has. Mer. I don't understand this. Har. There ain't nothin' to understand. Mer. Who is her husband.'* Not Dick's — I — I mean Mr. Comfort's uncle ! Har. Why, in course; she's his aunt. Mer. But w^iy did she change her name ? Har. {cimckling) I guess that's what he often wonders, sir. Mer. {aside) This is ver}^ singular ; why does she take the name of Meander instead ol Comfort. If I could only have a talk with that charming housekeeper, perhaps she could explain matters ; there is certainly some mystery about Dick's relations. Mer. {To Har.) I would like to have a few moments' conversation with the housekeeper.* Har. {surprised) The housekeeper! W^e ain't got no housekeeper, sir ; the house keeps itself, except when Mrs. Comfort keeps it. Mer. Mrs. Comfort! You don't mean the old lady ? Har. That aint for me to say, sir, although I believe Mr. Comfort does call her that sometimes {Imighs). Mer. But I didn't know she lived here. Har. Not live here ! She's here most of the time, sir, except when she's away. She stays in town sometimes, sir. Mer. {aside) No wonder Dick is worried; I suppose these two women quarrel all the time. {To Har.) Where is the maid ? 1 wish to see her. Har. The maid, sir! Mer. {sharply) Yes, the house-maid ; 3'^ou seem surprised at everything I say; Sally, I think her name is; I thought she was the housekeeper. {Aside) These servants are always jealous of one another. Har. Sally ain't no more the housekeeper than I am, sir. Mer. Well, whether she is or not, I wish to see her; tell her to come here. BETWEEN THE ACTS. 2/ Har. Yes, sir. {Aside) What's he want with Sally I wonder. {Exit Harris d. l. 2.) Mer. Very mysterious, very! {Enter Mean. d. r.) {Aside) Hare cones old comfortable, evidently just awakened. (7b Mean.) Well, sir, did you succeed .^ Mk\^. {sh2rf)lv) Succeed! Succeed in what .? Mer. In raising the roof; I left you hard at work. Your efforts certainly merited success. Mean. Your words are meaningless. You left me very abruptly, interrupting my remarks in an extremely rude manner, sir. Mer. {laiighifi'f) Ha-ha-ha, what are you talking about ? It WIS you who interrupted my remarks. You snored so loudly that I had to stop my story — it was a good one, too. Mean. Snore I I never snore, sir ; never! Mer. {sarcasfical/v) Of course not; I suppose you never fall asleep eithar. You vv^ere not napping in the smoking- room, were you ? Mean. Certainly not, sir; certainly not. No doubt you were asleep yourself. Mer. Yes, no doubt, and dreamed that I was you ; what nonsense ! All I have to say is, that if what I heard isn't a sample of your snoring powers, I don't care to hear one. {Aside) Thundsr storms always frighten me. (T^Mean.) No wonder you and your wife are always quarreling. Mean, {au^rilv) How dire you make slighting remarks in reference to my family affairs ! You know nothing about such matters. Mer. No, I'm a bachelor. Mean. That accounts for your ignorance ; how true it is, "He jests at scars who never felt a wound." {Miisingh') A bachelor ! How sweet the word sounds. Young man, in order that you may learn never to jest about matrimonial affairs, I will tell you a story. {Si/s.) Mer. You wouldn't listen to mine. Mean. Yours was told to provoke laughter, and mirth, mine teaches a good and wholesome lesson. Mer. {aside) Evidently nothing witty is to be expected {sifs). Mean. The story is a sad and doleful one ; short, but full of pathos. •Mer. {aside, taking out handkerchief) The prospect is gloomy. Mean. Long ago — {mnsi?igly) How long it seems . Mer. How long ago did you say ? 20 BETWttJN iJtrib ACTS. Mean. I did not say. Long ago, a young man, then at the age of thirty-five. Mer. {aside) A mere child. Mean. Met an attractive young widow — Mer {interrupting) Fell in love, they were married and lived happily ever after ; moral, always marry widows ; those stories are all alike. Mean, (^joith dignity) You will be kind enough not to interrupt. It is true, the young man fell desperately in love. ^ Mer. {half aside) Of course, they all do. Mean. His love was returned — Mer. C. O. D.? Mean. ( Mrs. C.) Come, I have heard enough; I shall report what you have said to Mr. Comfort. You are presumptuous beyond all words ! Mrs. C. {excitedly) You shall not remain in this house another moment ; go ! go I say ! Leave instantly ! {calling) Harris ! Mrs. M. Do you, a mere servant, a common maid, dare to address me in this manner! I shall report you im- mediately ; we will see which one shall leave ; you or I — we'll see. {Exit d. l. 2.) Mrs. C. That woman shall leave, {calling) Harris ! {Enter Har. d. f.) Har. Yes, sir, I — mean ma'am. Mrs. C. Wh^re is Mr. Comfort ? Har. In the garding, watchin' the rosebugs, as it were, ma'am. Mrs. C. Tell him I wish to see him right away. Har. He's showing the old gentleman around the ground, ma'am ; pointin' out the beauties of the spot, as he said, ma'am, the perspective on one thing an' another, as it ^ere. Mrs. C. Did you hear me ! I desire to see him im- mediately. Har. Yes, sir, I — I mean ma'am. {Aside) I'm afeared we're goin to 'ave a squall. {Exit d. f.) Mrs. C. Dick must send her away, or I shall go. Can it be that he no longer loves me ? That he cares for this other woman ? I hate her ! I never was so unhappy in all my life ; but sooner than remain and see him make love to another, I will separate from him forever. I will if it kills ! {Throws herself into a chair, and cries) {Enter Sally d. l. 2 — bringing bag.) Sally {throwing bag on floor) There's her auld packed bag. I'm jist wurked to dith, thet's what I am. {seeing Mrs. C.) Yez lazy crature ! settin' round a' doin' nothin'. Where's Mr. Comfort? (Mrs. Comfort stops crying) What yez cryin' about ; yez big blubberin' baby 3^ez. Where's Mr. Comfort, I asked yez ? Mrs. C. {wiping her eyes) How dare you speak to me so ? 34 BETWEEN THE ACTS. Sally. How dare me ! ha-ha — did yez iver hear the loike of that ! how dare me ! I dare spake to yez or iny other man loike yez, jist as I think bist, an the sooner yez know that, the bitter it'll be for yez. Mrs. C. {rising) Leave the room instantly ! Sally. An' thet's jist what I'll do, but not from iny of yez tellin' me. I'm glad to git out of the soight of the loikes of yez. I'll tell on yez, niver be afeared of thet ! Mrs. C. Leave, do you hear ! Sally. The missus will know that yez wouldn't till a leddy where Mr. Comfort were ; yez great big overdressed, blub'berin' baby yez. Why don't yez driss loike a female maid thet yez be, an' not be a-puttin' on airs loike a leddy thet yez aren't. I'll tell on yez ! {Exit d. l. 2.) Mrs. C. What does this mean ? Sally (^without') Git out of me way, yez circus clown yez. {Enter Mer. d. l. 2, dressed in own suit.) Mer. {looking off Yi. L. 2) A very impudent maid ! there is too much French about her, that's the trouble ; now if she were only Irish she might not be so exuberant and — a — and hilarious. {Seeing Mrs. Com. confused) I — I beg your pardon, madam, I — I should say miss ; I beg your pardon ; do I — do I intrude ? I — I was looking for Dick — Mr. Com- fort, you know. {Aside) What a refined looking girl. Mrs. C. I expect Mr. C. here presently ; may I — may I ask your name ? Mer. Certainly, ma'am, certainly. (^^/ratio Alger, Jr. The experience of an active and courageous boy who, driven from home, fights manfully the battles of life and ultimately ai_hieves a splendid success. Illustrated. 350 pages, cloth, $1.2$. HARRY AMBLER; OR, THE STOLEN DEED By Sidney Marlow. It is noticeably ingenious in plot, and is further characterized by brightness and abundance of incident. It abounds in humorous and exciting situations, yet it is in no objec- tionable way sensational. 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