UN L ABE COMEDY IN 3 ACTS Translated and adapted from the German By AD. NEUENDORFF NEW YORK SIGISMUND VOYTITS, Book and Job Printer, 94 Fuiton Street 1877 Entered according to Act of Cougress, in the year 1877, by Ad. Neuendobff, iu the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. UNCLE ABE. €OmEDY IW 3 ACTS. TRA^SLATE1> AND ADAPTEI* PROM THE UERMAN AD. NEUENDOEFF. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year i877, by Ad. Neuendokfp, in the office ol the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. >1 h^^ DRAMATIS PERSON^E: RICHARD CHASE, Cotton Merchant, a Widower. FREDERICK (26 years), \ PAULINE (19 years), > his rhildren. WILLIAM (16 years), ' ABRAHAM GRANGER, an old relation of the deceased Mrs. Chask. CHARLES RIVERS, a young Merchant. ELLEN NORWOOD (25 years). Housekeeper of Mr. Chask. JOHN, Servant. SCKiVK I— A summer residence in the vicinity of New York. TMP9o-3u73i9 FIRST ACT. An elegant room, appropriately furnished. One door B. and L,, also one G. in in the background. FIRST SCENE. Ellen sits li., near a table. An embroidery lies near her, on the table. Sheun- icinds a skein of red icwsted which william holds out to her, standing in front of her. Ellen. — We better stop now, as you seem to get tired holding up your hands for sucli a long while. William. Tired ? me? How can you think that anything could tire me which I lish pranks. William. -Forgive me. Ellen. — If you promise — SECOND SCENE. EiLEN. William. Eater Mb. Chase, Fredekic, Pauline and Uncle Abe, from G. Mr. Chase opens the door, overhears the la,H W07xls of the preceding conversation, and then comes forward. Frederic and Uncle Abe stay in the background, talking very busily with each other. Pauline comes slowly forward, Mr. Chase {speaking in a friendly tone to Ellen, and in a harsh tone to William). — He must promise everything you ask of him. Ellen.— Mr. Chase ! Mr. Chase. — Did you have to reprimand him again ? Ellen. —Not exactly, but — William looks imploringly towards her. b UNCLE ABE. Mr. Chase.— I suppose he has committed some foolish prank again, eh ? Ellen. — Oh ! no, uo. Your son only asked my advice in respect to what he should read, and I told him to avoid the works of certain authors. Pauline (haughtily, in a mocking tone). — Miss Ellen seems to be well versed in literature. Mr. Chase.— To be sure she is ! Miss Ellen is a well educated young lady, from whom a young girl like you can learn, at all events. Ellen (imploringly). — Mr. Chase ! Pauline (snappishly). — Really? Why, I guess I ought to go to school, at my age, yet. Mr. Chase (harshly). — Age !— what age? Nonsense ! You are nothing but a child, a young — well, never mind about that, Ellen. — May be Miss Pauline thinks it improper to learn from me, on account of my being only a servant in the house. Pauline (in the same tone as before). — Which is somewhat nearer to the point. Mr. Chase. — And which deserves a severe reprimand. I dont want you, as well as everybody else in this house, to behave towards Miss Ellen as towards a servant. She is to be considered a member of our family, and dealt with accordingly. Ellen.— But, Mr. Chase- Mr. Chase.- In which behavior towards you everybody has to concur, Pauline as well as anybody else. ( To William. ) Go to your room now, sir, and in the future behave yourself in accordance with what I said just now. William. Yes, father. (Ex-it C.) • Mr. Chase (to Pauline).— Xnd I wish you to go with Miss Ellen and finish your work of taking a household inventory, so that Miss Ellen can take charge of the whole and find out what is needed for the future. Pauline. — That is what I came here to call Miss Ellen for. Mr. Chase.— Well, then, go. Ellen (in a kind tone, to Pauline).--! am at your disposal, Miss Pauline. Pauline.— Come, then. (Both exit, R. ) Mr. Chase. — Frederic, go to my room, and wait there for me. I have only a few words to say to Uncle Abe before we go. ( Goes to the table L. , and takes up a newspaper. ) '* Frederic (who has overcoat and hat on, and a small traveling valise in his hand). — Very well, father. ( In an undeHone to Uncle Abe. ) I wish to speak to you yet, before I leave. Please don't go out. (Exit L ) THIRD SCENE. Mr Chase. Uncle Abe. Uncle Abe (an old, gray-haired, good-natured, careful, but still active man, fond of a pinch of snuff, comes forward). — Well, Mr. Chase, what is it you want of me ? UNCLE ABE. *j Mr. Chase {putting down the newspaper).—! wish to make you acquainted with several arrangements I have made lately, and, furthermore, with a secret business transaction in which I want your cooperation. Uncle Abe.— Secret business transaction? Arrangements relating to the household, eh ? Mr. Chase. -My cotton mill in Connecticut wants more attention than it lately has had. Mr Williams, the foreman, is a very reliable man; but things have happened there lately which prove that it wants, if possible, a man who is persouidly interested in the welfare of my business to superintend the whole. For that reason, I have made up my mind to send Frederic there to- day, and put the mill in his charge as superintendent. Uncle Abe.— Frederic? H'm, h'm, h'm ! Mr. Chase.— I don't think I can send a better man than my own son, who will most assuredly give his whole attention to the business, acting in some respects for himself as well as for me. Uncle Abe.— Certainly, certainly; but— Mr. Chase.— Well? Uncle Abe.— Poor Fred is back from his business tour through the States only a few weeks— just begins to feel himself at home again-and now you want him to go out there to that lonesome country place and superintend the workmen of that cotton-mill of yours. Don't you think that's rather hard on him, considering that he is a young fellow and wants to enjoy his youth ? Mr. Chase. -Youth is the time for work, old age the time to enjoy life. Uncle Abe.— I don't think he'd like the idea of going to that lonesome place very much. Mr. Chase.— Which is all the same to me— he will go there, and that's the end of it. You know I don't allow anybody to contradict me, and most es- pecially not my children. He can leave by the next train in an hour from now. I'll give him permission to come here on a visit every fortnight, which I think is sufficient recreation for him. I had to work harder than he in my youth, and was a poor devil, at that. Everything I call my own now I have to thank myself for, and my perseverance. Uncle Abe.- Yes, yes, thafs true. Mr. Chase.— Fred's room will not be occupied till I give you further notice about it. Uncle Abe.— All right. Mr. Chase. -The next thing I wanted to fcdk to you about is, that I'm very much annoyed by the perpetual plundering of our garden. Have you no idea who is that flower-thief. Uncle. Abe.— No, not the slightest. Mr. Chase. -I declare that is very strange, as you occupy the room in the rear part of the house fronting the garden. The theft is committed right under your wi-idow, one might say under your eye, which easily leads to the belief that you could detect and catch the thief. 8 UNCLE ABE. Uncle Abe {laaghbigly^.—l'i see and catch the thief, with my eyes and my legs ? I guess you are joking Mr, Chase. Mr. Chase.— Consequently I think it's better if we look the gate of the garden fence at eight o'clock every evening, and let nobody in anymore after that with- out your or my permission. - Please to inform the gardener about it. Uncle Abe. —All right, sir. Mr. Chase. — And now let me tell you the most important. There is a big lot of cotton in Baltimore which, as I heard, can be bought ver^' cheap, because the owners of it are very much in want of money to meet various obligations. On account of the probable bad cotton crop which we will have this year, cotton must go up considerably in price, as well here as in Boston, and a fiue j)rofit can be made if I hold sufficient stock at that time. — Consequently I have sent my agent, Mr. Boyd, to Baltimore to buy up that lot of cotton there for me.— If he attends to his business properly, I will be in possession of it before any- body gets wind of the whole affair, and by that operation can control the market here as well as in Boston. Boyd telegraphed that he'll be back here to- day, I have instructed him not to come to my office to avoid suspicion, but to come here, give you a letter containing all the particulars of his mission, for me, and then proceed directly by the next train to Boston, to arrange that part of the business with our house there. The letter Mr. Boyd will give you for me is without an address, so as to avoid it being opened in case it should by any accidents come into wrong hands. -As soon as Mr, Boyd has arrived, you will please send for me and be sure not to give the letter to anybody else but to me. — You must be quick, careful and discreet about the whole affair, as no- body but Boyd, you and me know about it and an indiscretion could spoil the whole business. Uncle Abe. — You can rely on me. * Mr. Chase.— All right then. That was all I wanted to tell you —I'll now go and give Fred the necessary instructions for his new position and then ride down to my office, {Exit L.) Uncle Abe (escor^mj7 /iim to i/i,e door). --Everything will be attended to prop- erly, you may rest assured. {Coming forward again.) He counts and figures and plans, all the time, to increase his already large fortune, every day ! He ought to be content with what he calls his own already. Well, well, people with such a disposition must exist also, because, if everybody was possessed of such contentedness as me, nothing great would be done in the world. Poor Fred ! how lonesome he'll feel in that nasty, old, out-of-the-way cotton-mill place. Mr. Chase says: " Youth is the time for work, and old age the time to enjoy life." H'm! that's all very well, but the trouble is that nowadays youth wants to enjoy life so much, that hardly nothing is left for old age. FOURTH SCENE. Uncle Abe, William {through C.) William {looking through the door).— Are you alone, Uncle Abe ? Uncle Abe.— Yes, you little rascal. What do you want ? UNCLE ABE. 9 William [in a dejected lone, while eulerinff).— Dear, dear Uncle-Abe. Uncle Abe.— AVell. what's the matttr? Wlliiam ipeltlag him).— ^Yon Jimst help me out ol" the scrape. Uncle Abe.— What is it, then ? William {anxiously).— I have to stay in school for three successive days Uncle Abe. — Keally ! On account of some mischievous prank again, I suppose ? William. On account of a mere nothing. The thing is, I would like you to arrange matters here in. the house in such a way that pa doesn't get wind of the affair. You know he is very cross with me on such occasions, and promised to punish me severely the last time I had to stay in school. Uncle Abe.— Yes, Yes ! the worst is that he'll miss you at dinner table. William.— Oh, you can say, I am invited to some other house for dinner, or that you have sent me out to get something. Please, dear uncle Abe, find out something to keep the matter down. Uncle Abe.— But tell me, Billy, when will you begin to behave yourself properly ? William. —Now, don't scold, will you ? but help me through only this time. Uncle Abe.— What is it you have done, then ? William.— As I said before already', a mere nothing. Our professor of Latin found out that, during the lesson, I had a novel under my bench, in which I read instead of reading in my Latin grammar. Uncle Abe.— And which is very wrong indeed ; especially as it was a novel you read. How often didn't I tell you not to do that !— You are too young for such books. William apathetically). -Oa, I know that you old people always insist upon the educ itiou of our minds, but forget that our young hearts also demand their share ! Uncle Abe (laughingly).— The heart ! What do you know of the heart ? William. — Oho ! You always talk as if I was a child yet, and forget that I am getting a moustache already. ( Prdting uncle Abe's finger to his upper lip. ) Just feel ! Uncle Abe {laughingly ).~-Yts, yes. It is glorious, especially if you take a magnifying-glass to look at it. Heart! heart! such a boy talk about his heart ! Ha, ha, ha ! William.— Yes, and with a perfect right, as the sweet secret has also crept into it already. Uncle Abe {still laughingly).— The sweet secret ! William (of ended).— Yon don't believe me? Oh, if you knew, uncle- Uncle Abe .s-erious).— If I knew? Now, look here, young man, don't you talk any nonsense. William. Nonsense, you say? What an expression for my— 10 UNCLE AHK. Uncle Abe (intemipiing htm). — Yes, uouseuse. Those novels have put all that stuff in your head, I suppose? William. — I don't think it's necessary to read novels to get the voice of one's heart to speak. Uncle Abe {astonished). —Voice of the heart to speak ! And so you mean to tell me that you are in love with somebody. And with whom, if you please? William. — If yon promise to keep the name 1o yourself, I will tell you. Uncle Abe {im2XtUent).—Yes, yes. But who is it? William {as if whispering in his ear).— Miss Ellen. Uncle Abe (astoyiished). — Are you crazy!-' William {patheticaUy). —Who can command his heart? She is so amiable, so lovely ! her dear blue eyes are my heaven ! her voice is music to me ! she has captured vay heart and soul — Uncle Abe {stopping WUliam's month with his hand, laughingly). — Stop, stop. That's sufficient for one girl. And what does Miss Ellen say ? William.— How ? Uncle Abe. — Does she return your love ? • William.— What do you think, uncle Abe ? How could I talk to her about my love? No, no! it's sufficient for me to adore her, and to fulfil, if possible, every wish of hers which I fanc}" I read in her eyes. Oh, if I could only pave her path of life with roses ! if I — Uncle Abe {as if suddenly struck by a thought, catching him by Vie ear). — You rascal, you, have I got you now? William. — Oh, oh ! please let go my ear ! Uncle Abe.— No, sir, nothing of the kind. So it's you that stole all those flowers in the garden ? William {trying to stop Uncle Abe's mouth with his hand). — Don't scream like that; somebody might hear us. Uncle Abe {letting him go, and looking around, in a cautious /one). -Nobody else but you is the thief. William. — But, uncle Abe, I assure you— Uncle Abe. — Nonsense, nonsense ! I'm not going to be fooled by you any more. For this ti^e I'll keep quiet about the whole thing yet, but if another rose is plucked off again without my knowledge, I'll denounce you to your father. William. — Dear uncle Abe, please don't ! Uncle Abe.— And, besides that, it would be better for you to stick to your schoolbooks and not bore your head with novels. William.— That's the way you old folks are. As soon as the blood begins to run slower through the veins, you have forgotten that there was a time when it pulsed in your bodies like in ours, and commence to growl and scold about the feelings of our young hearts. {Light) But you are almost entirely an ex- UNCLE ABE. 11 ception to this iuli% dear ancle Abe, and will surely see me all right with pa oil account of my having to stay in school for three days. ( Tragic) But she ! Oh ! it is fearful that I'll not see her at the dinner table for those three days ! Oh ! that's worse than hunger ! Her picture is engraved in my heart though I will think of her, and be happy. {Light) And about the flowers — I hope that I can rely ou you that it will be kei)t secret between us two. You see, pa hiis got his head full enough with his business, and doesn't need to be bothered with such nonsense. (Serious) But above all, remember that you have decoyed nie iuto betraying to you my secret —from your noble heart I expect silence about it; silence to everybody, even to her, my dearest angel ! {Light, giving Uncle Abe a kiss) And now, dear uncle Abe, good-bye. Remember, yon pledged yourself to silence —I have your word, and rely on it. Good-bye ! Good-bye ! {Ecit, runyiing off L.) Uncle Abe. —Here, here, stop, you little rascal. {Looking after him.) Fine boy that, full of fire and life (laughingly). And in love, too (dolefully) ! Yes, yes; it is a blissful time wheu the heart begins to feel the first emotions. Billy is too young for that though, at all events, and nothing but misfortune can arise from such nonsense —but no ! Miss Ellen is an honest girl, and will take good care that Billy is kept from mischief. At all events, I'll keep my eye ou the boy. FIFTH SCENE. Uncle Abe. Pauline from R. Pauline (looking through the door).— Uncle Abe ! Uncle Abe (turning around). — Eh? Pauline. Pst ! Uncle Abe.— Well? Pauline.— Is Pa in his room yet ? Uncle Abe.— Yes. Pauline (coming out). — Let us be careful then. Uncle Abe. — Very well ; but what is the matter ? Pauline. — I want to make you my confidant. Uncle Abe (inquisitively) —Yonr confidant ? Pauline nods. Uncle Abe.— Well, then, go ahead and let me hear your secret. Pauline (asha,med).— Oh, I couldn't tell you. Uncle Abe.— How? Pauline.— Must I say what it is ? Uncle Abe.— Certainly ! How else could you make me your confidant ? Pauline.— But didn't you notice yet what is the matter? Uncle Abe.— Notice ? What? 12 UNCLE ABE. Pauline {sighing). —Ah ! Uncle Abe {imitating her).— Ah !— What do you mean by ah? I don't under- stand you. Paulina. — Well, then, if it must be, I'll tell you. But you must turn around {turna hirn around) and not look at me. ( Whispering in his ear) I'm in love. Uncle Abe (bursting out in a loud laugh). — In love ? Pauline {shutting his mouth with her hand). — Please don't scream as loud as that, somebody might hear us. Uncle Abe {astonished).— In love? Pauline.— Yes, in love. Uncle Abe {chuckling). — Well, well, I declare. But let me examiue you once how you look when you are in love ! Pauline. -Oh, how naughty you are, uucle Abe. Uncle Abe (good-naturedly). — Never mind that, my dear ; but tell me who is your sweetheart? Pauline. —Who ? I thought you had noticed that already. Uncle Abe (simply). —l^o, I didn't notice anything. Pauline (whispering in his ear). — It's Charles. Uncle Abe.— Charles who ? Pauline (impatiently). —Elvers ! Uncle Abe.— Kivers? Is his name Charles ? Pauline.— Yes. Uncle Abe. — I didn't know that ! Well, well, you are right, I could have no- ticed that, the more so as he is a fine good-looking fellow. But tell me. how is it that he shows so many courtesies to Miss Ellen ? Pauline.— Oh, that's only a trick. Uncle Abe.— A trick? Pauline.— Yes. You see, we know each other six weeks, and since three weeks he has declared his love to me. Mr. Rivers is a young merchant who does a fair business, but for the reason that Pa, as j ou know, is very proud of his riches, which he has accumulated by his own labor and perseverance, we never had the courage to confess our love to him, as Mr. Rivers' business was not so extremely h%crative yet, Ouce I undertook to find out Pa's idea about my marriage, and saw that my fear was entirely justified. He said his son-in- law must, at all events, be in the same financial position as he, and that he would never give his consent to a marriage if the young man wasn't backed up by sufficient means. Uncle Abe.— Oh, yes ; I know his ideas about that point. Pauline.— And now what shall we do ? Hope, and wait ? Uncle Abe. — A very hard task for a young loving couple. Pauline. — Isn't it? But you must help us, dear good uncle Abe, Uncle Abe. -I ? How can I ? —if I only had money enough— UNCLE ABE. 13 Pauline. — No, no ; not so ! You must try to bring Pu around to our wishes. You must, now and then, drop a word about Charles ; tell Pa what a nice and and good young fellow Charley is— he really is a good young fellow. I assure J'OU. Uncle Abe.— Indeed ? Pauline. Yes. That is, in one point, I don't know exactly if I can trust him. Uncle Abe. How is that ? Pauline. -You sliall know everything. Pa could have easily got suspicious if Charley would have come so very often after I had tried to find out pa's ideas about my marriage, and so we agreed that, to avoid such suspicion, he should try to make believe that he was courting Ellen. Uncle Abe. "Aha! Pauline. — But sometimes it seems to me as if— Uncle Abe {mocJdngly interrnpthuj /ier).— Charles' ''make believe'' was too natural. Pauline.— Just so ! Uncle Abe.— And that his love-making to Ellen was in earnest? Pauline {hastily).— Which you have observed, eh ? Oh, how right I was in my suppositions ! Uncle Abe. — And so you are jealous of Miss Ellen ? Pauline {haugJitily). Jealous of Miss Ellen ? oh, no ! But she seems to be very coquettish — and wlio knows if she doesn't try to entangle Charley into her net. Uncle Abe {doubtfully). -Misn Ellen coquettish ? Nonsense ! Pauline {angrily). — Yes, she is so ! It seems very funny to me that you also try to defend her, like pa, who seems to be quite charmed with her. Uncle Abe {laughingly). — Yes, yes, she has charmed the whole male portion of the house. Pauline. — And I think it's very naughty of you to laugh and joke while I come here to ask your advice and help. Uncle Abe. — But what shall I do for you my dear child ? Pauline.— Help me, and give me advice to get out of my trouble. Observe Ellen, and tell me if you think she is acting wrong ; and if pa begins to get suspicious, try to dispel his suspicions, and, above all, if Charley and I want to see each other alone once — Uncle Abe. — I shall try and arrange an interview, eh ? Pauline. -Yes, dear uncle Abe, Uncle Abe.— No, child ; my conscience wouldn't permit me to do any such thing. Pauline.— Which is very wrong ; because if you feel the least interest in mine and Charley's welfare, you ought to do everything to help us along. Pa's oppo- sition is only based on prejudice, and pr>^judices must not be tolerated. 14 UNCLE ABE. Uncle Abe. — Ob, you little witcb, how nice she knows how to put her cause in the right light. Pauline {coaxmgly) — Now, please, dear uncle Abe, tell me if I have done wrong to intrust my secret to you, and if you'll help me along V Uncle Abe. — Hush, my dear ; I hear your father coming. Pauline. — Quick, uncle Abe, give me your hand and word that j'ou'll help us Uncle Abe.— Well, I'll consider the matter. Pauline. — No, no, I want your hand ! You promise silence and help ? Uncle Abe. — All right, then ; here it is. Pauline.— Oh, now- everything is all right {kisses him, and exit C). Uncle Abe.— Hm, hm— Charles Rivers Everybody talks well of him.— And then she is right when she says that her father is full of prejudices. — Well, I'll see what I can do. SIXTH SCENE. Uncle Abe. Enter Mr. Chase {from L). Mr. Chase {with hat and cane, talking back into the room from where he comes). — Good b}^ my boy. Take good care of yourself {advancimj as if to leave the room through C). {To uncle Ahe) Fred is packing his trunk, and will depart in a short time. Uncle Abe.— Very well. Mr. Chase.— And what I told you before— Uncle Abe.— Will be attended to. Mr. C\\?i^e {while walking to the door: , turns and comes back to uncle Abe -in a pleasant tone).— Uncle Abe, I have to confide something else to you yet. Uncle Abe {laughingly). So ? Well, go ahead, as I'm in it once. Mr. Chase.— In what? Uncle Abe.— In the confidence. Mr. Chase.— How so ? Uncle Abe {noticing that he has said rather too much). — H'm ! I mean that you have told me several other confidential things already. Mr. Chase. — Ai ! yes. {Playing wiih his cane. Tn an embarrassed Ume). Tell me, how do you like our new housekeeper ? Uncle Abe.— Miss Ellen ? Mr. Chase.— Yes. Uncle Abe. — Well, I think she is pretty good-looking. Mr. Chase.— Only good looking ! I think she is beautiful. Uncle Abe.— Indeed ? Mr. Chase.— Did you notice that beautiful foot of hers? the delicate hand? —her graceful bearing? -that splendid eye? UNCLE ABB. 15 Uncle Abe (astonished). But, Mr. Chase — Mr. Chase.— Oh ! I know what you want to say ! Although I'm not a yonng man any more, I take a great interest iu her and her welfare. She is the perfection of woman, in my eyes. Uncle Abe (bursting out in a laughing tone).— Well, I declare ! Father and son ! (Shuts his mouth iclth his hand, as if it suddenly strikes him that he has be- trayed himself. ) Mr. Chase (catching his arm. In a very hasty and whispering tone). So you have noticed, also ? Uncle Abe (embarrassed).— What ? I haven't noticed anything. Mr. Chase. — That Fred always looks at her in a very suspicious manner. Uncle Abe (astonished). —Frederic ! (Aside) What does he mean by that? Mr. Chase.— Yes, Frederic ! Oh ! I have good eyes, and see everything. I have noticed a long time already that an intimacy is growing up between him and Ellen, and that's the reason I send him to the cotton mill. Uncle Abe.— Aha ! that's what's the matter ? Mr. Chase (embarrassed because he has betrayed himself).— ^ot exactly that alone; but still it is one reason for it. Uncle Abe.— In other words, you wanted to get rid of a rival. Mr. Chase.— A rival ! Nonsense ! I don't think it has come to that point yet. But still- Uncle Abe (cimningly). -Well? Mr. Chase.— Well, I haven't come to any positive determination yet. But tell me— do you think that (as I'm only fifty years old and quite lively and healthy yet) anybody could blame me for it if I would try to create me a new home and enjoy my life ? Uncle Abe (consenting). -Certainly not. Mr. Chase.— And as single life can impossible be made comfortable- Uncle Abe.— That's so. Mr. Chase.— I think nobody could blame me if I would marry again accord- ing to my choice. Uncle Abe.— To be sure. Mr. Chase. -I am rich; don't need to bother myself about what the world says — wife Uncle Abe.— Exactly ; and consequently will try to make Miss Ellen my new Mr. Chase.-Nothing definite yet; I only thought of it. But still it isn't at all impossible, although I haven't come to any definite conclusion yet Uncle Abe.— Oh ! I know enough already. Mr. Chase (patting his cheek jocosely). -Yon know nothing at all, uncle Abe- nothnig at all-do y(.u hear? All I would like to ask of you would be to watch Mis. Ellen ,i little, to try and find out how she thinks of me, nnd, above all 16 UNCLE ABE. find out something about her former life. She is so very, reticent, no- body knows the least of it; and I assure you that if she hadu't beeu so well recommended to me - • Uncle Abe.— You wouldn't have taken her in your house at all. Mr. Chase.— But there i.-s auothtr Ihiug that bothers me yet— this Mr. Rivers who visits our house so frequeutly since about four weeks, although I have nothing person d ag linst him (as he is a clever and smart business man) , is disagreeable to me because he is so very courteous to Miss Ellen. Uncle Abe {cunningly). -To Miss Ellen ! Mr. Chase {astoiiished). ~-Yes; why do you ask in such a tone ? Uncle Abe {embarrassed). —Because, I thought — Mr. Chase. — That it might be my daughter who is meant? I would put a stop to that verj' quick. Uncle Abe. — Oh ! no, no ! I have noticed also, that he pays a great deal of attention to Miss Ellen. Mr. Chase.— Did you? Well, then, tell me what shall I do, as it is impos- sible for me to forbid his visits. Suppose you would put Miss Ellen on the right track by dropping a word now and then about me, and I think every- thing will be all right. I'm pretty sure I'll make up my mind to enslave my- self once more. Uncle Abe {laughingly). — Yes, yes. It seems to me as if you were on the best way to acomplish that. Mr. Chase. — Well, Uncle Abj. I rely on you. Watch Mr. Kivers, and try to find out Miss Ellen's ideas about me. But, above all, silence ! Uncle Abe. — Certainly, you caa rely on me. Mr. Chase {shaking Uncle Abe's hand).—U' everything goes right, you can be assured of my gratitude. {Exit C.) Uncle Abe (/«^w?norous/i/").— I declare, that's a nice mess in this house! — the son in love, the daughter in love, the father in love ! I wonder what Billy would say if his adored would become his stepmother? Well, a boy like that will get over such a disappointment very easy. It would certainly be a much more serious thing if Frederic— h'm ! I think it very wrong, though, that Mr. Chase sends him to that dreary cotton-mill place, out of sheer jealousy. Yes, yes; against his children he is a tyrant, whose very hearts he tries to subdue and govern while he, himself, is an old, lovesick fool! He s right, though, 4n respect to Mis§ Ellen ; I thiuk she could even set njy heart a-goiugonce more if she — SEVENTH SCENE. Uncle Abe, Fkederic, Ellen. Feedeeic opens door L., and steps cut. Ellen opens door E., remaining in it unseen to the o!hers. Uncle Abe (as if interrupted by the noise).— Who' h. there? {Seeing Frederic) Ready to leave, poor devil ? I think you'll feel quite lonesome in that out-r)f- the way place. Your father will call you back very soon, though, I guess. UNCLE ABE. 1 Y Frederic. — Uucle Abe, I have to confide something to you yet before I leave. Uncle Abe. — What, you nlso? It seems to me as if the vi^hole world is going to make me its confidant. {Taking hold of his arm.) Tell me, are you in love also ? Frederic. -More than that — I am married. Uncle Abe (frigf/ifened).— Married! Good gracious ! Married? Well, that's a nice mess. Frederic. — Since three mouths already. Uncle Abe (m a lamentable /one).— Since three months ! And with whom, you villain ? Frederic {goes to door R., and brings E lien forioard).— With this lady. Uncle Abe (sinks in{o a chair) — With Miss Ellen? I'm thunderstruck ! Frederic-Come, dear Ellen; Uncle Abe will take care of you when I'm not here. He'll be your paternal friend. Ellen {advancing towards Uncle Abe in a timid manner). — You are angry with me, and rightly so. I have done very wrong in marrying Frederic without the consent and against the will of his father. Uncle Abe {lamenting).— Oh ! what a fearful row there will be. Your father- Frederic. — Will be reconciliated. Uncle Abe {as if not hearing Frederic).— kn(\. William? Frederic— How ? Uncle Abe.— And Mr. Rivers? Frederic (impe. Pauline. No, no; you must hear the end of it. {Goes on reading, still more, excited.) UNCT.E ABE. 31 No ; in yonr i)uro foiitnros are Truth! yos, truth iilom^ nxpresscd, And your love belongs to mo. {Speakfi). ^Decidodly, dcoidodly, sir! {Reads.) While I, lis my throbbing heart Sets all jealous doubts at rest, Vow again to love but thee. (Speaks.). — Beautiful! most beautiful, indeed! Mr. Chase. — Those verses are fearful, my dear! Pauline. — Don't be so harsh in your judgment, pa, as the author stands next to you. Mr. Chase.— Who? Mr. Eivers! go yon are also a pout? Hmrs {emharrasKed). I think Miss I'aiilino acts very wrong to put me in such an awkward poHitit)u. Mr. Chase (mcredalously). Businc^ss man and poet in one person? Pauline.— VVhj not, pa, as sucli an amiable object as the one in question can even turn the most prosaic person into a poet ? Mr. Chase. -What amiable object? Pauline.— Nobody else but Miss Ellen; it is her who has called forth this poetical effusion. Mr. Chase (in a jealous tone).— Mina Ellon! I'll not hope that Rivers {to Mr. Chase).— If you'll permit, I'll explain the whole matter in a few words. Pauline. — What for, as the fact is iudispuUible ? Miss Ellen received those versos in a very ingenious wuy. Rivers.— Not from mo, though? Pauline.— But through your poslilUm d amour. Mr. Chase.— Through a poslUlon d'amour 'i that makos tilings worse yet. Pauline.— Yos, dear father, Billy was the oidy one that un.lortook to play that part. Mr. Chase.— Billy! Mr. Rivers, what shall 1 think of yon ? Rivers {impaiienily).~l1i you would only listen quietly to me for a few moments, I'm sure that I can explain the whole matter. Pauline.— A nice explanation that must bo! Mr. Chase.— But I must have it. Rivers (to mien). Miss Ellen, I'm very sorry that you Imve been implicated in this affair, but one word from you could solve the whole mystery. Ellen {proudly). Against roproachos und acciiHiitions of that sort which Miss Paulino has h«aped on mo my honor domundH sih-noo, if T don't want U> lose my self-respect. Mr. Chase {to Paulink).— So y..n ncoUKO Miss Kll.-n mIho? 32 UNCLE ABE. Pauline. — Yes, father. These verses, made aod written by Mr. Rivers, were delivered to Miss Ellen by Billy as postilion cVamour, and I think that the honor of our house demands — Rivers (interrupting her). — I beg your pardon, Miss Pauline ; but to have vio- lated the honor of your house, is a reproach which I cannot allow to rest on me. I hereby declare on my word of honor that these verses were not sent to Miss Ellen by me, nor were even intended for her. I had them in my note- book, which I must accidentally have left in this arbor before, from which some indiscreet person must have taken and misused them in this foolish manner. Pauline {looking around). — I don't see any notebook. Mr. Chase.— Nor I either. Rivers.— And still this is the very simple solution of this seeret. Mr. Chase. — But if these verses were not intended for Miss Ellen, to whom were they addressed then ? Ellen (aside, and whispering to Pauline). — Most surely to you ! Pauline (frightened).— How? Rivers. — That, Mr. Chase, is my secret. Mr. Chase.— You are embarrassed, Mr. Rivers. Yon have secrets which you don't want to reveal, and in which members of my family are implicated; con- sequently I am at leisure to believe my own version about them. Pauline {lohy begins to comprehend). — But, dear father, perhaps — Mr. Chase.— Never mind, my dear ; whatever the circumstances of the case are, I anyhow consider them too delicate as to be ventilated in the presence of those concerned in it. Rivers. — You are right, Mr. Chase. I understand your hint, and will take my leavo until this disagreeable misunderstanding has been cleared up either through an accident or through the good will of my accuser. I have the honor. {Exit through the gate.) Mr. Chase. — Good day, Mr. Rivers. I'm sorry, Pauline, that you have insti- gated this disagreeable aflair, which it is my duty now to investigate. Go and tell Billy to come here, as I want to find out what he knows about it, and tell him to bring my hat and cane, as I have to go out afterwards. Ellen.— If j'ou will permit, I'll go — Mr. Chase.— No, you better let Pauline iittend to it, as I have to speak with you also. Pauline.— AH right, Pa. {Exit into the house.) Mr. Chase. — Now tell me candidly. Miss Ellen, what do you know of the affair ? Ellen.— It's a conundrum for me. Mr. Chase. — So you did not receive the verses from Mr. Rivers ? Ellen.— No. sir. Mr. Chase. — And have no connections with him whatever ? UNCLE ABE. 33 Ellen.— Mr. Chase ! Mr. Chase.— So much the better ! But it always seemed to me that he has shown you a great many courtesies. Ellen.— Which I took for nothing else but mere civility, as generally shown towards ladies by all young men. Mr. Chase (amo/ousiy). — You didn't, eh? Oh, Fm very glad of that, very glad, indeed ! You see — I am a man still in his best years. Ellen.— Indeed, you are very vigorous and healthy for a man of your age. May the Almighty preserve you long yet ! Mr. Chase. — Do you really wish that ? Ellen. — I, most assuredly, not less heartily than your entire family. Mr. Chase {embarrassed lohat to say and to do). — Ah — ah — you are a good girl, a good girl; and if you— h'm— I suppose, don't quite understand what I mean? Ellen. — I really don't know, Mr. Chase. Mr. Chase.— Yes, yes ; ah, there comes uncle Abe ; he can explain matters to you. ELEVENTH SCENE. Ellen. Mr. Chase. Enter Uncle Abe, /rom the house, bringing hat and cane of Mr. Chase. Uncle Abe. — Billy is not to be found; he must be somewhere around the gar- den, consequently I bring your hat and cane, as I was coming out anyhow. Mr. Chase.— Thanks, uncle Abe, thanks. {Drawing him aside.) Now is your time to fulfil my mission to Miss Ellen. Uncle Abe.— Now ? Mr. Chase. — Yes, now. I have to go out for a short time, and expect you to tell me her answer when I come back. — ( To Ellen. ) Uncle Abe will tell you something of importance, my dear; please to listen to him attentively, consider the matter, and give him a candid and upright answer. {Exit through gate.) Ellen.— What does all that mean, uncle Abe? Mr. Chase has kind of fright ened me by what he said. Uncle Abe {laughingly).— Don't get alarmed, my dear Ellen; there is no need for it . Ellen. But explain to me. Uncle Abe {aside). — Shall I tell her everything?— Shall I give her his letter? — No, that would only embarrass and alarm her. It's better not to tell lier anything of his foolishness. Ellen. — You reflect— tjilk with yourself — tell me what has happened, and by that relieve me of my anxiety. Uncle Abe [not hnowing what to say). — Well — Mr, Chase is— what shall I say? Ellen. — You stop — Go on, tell me ! Mr. Chase is — ? Uncle Abe.— A little jealous. 34 UNCLE ABE. Ellen (frightened). — Jealous? Uncle Abe. — Yes ; don't get alarmed about it, though. He likes you, and de- sires you to stay in our house for good, but fears that Mr. Rivers has cast his eye on you and may carry y ou off. Ellen.— Mr. Rivers? Uncle Abe. — Yes; on account of that Mr. Chase is a little, what I called jeal- ous before. Ellen. — Oh, to stay in his house forever is only my most fervent desire ; but I think his meaning of that is different to mine and Frederic's. Uncle Abe. — To which he has to accede, though, by and by. All we want is a little patience. Ellen.— And on account of Rivers he needn't to fear anything. Uncle Abe (laughingly). — Oh, I know, I know. Ellen.— You know ? Uncle Abe (aside— slapping his mouth). - Betrayed again— (/owd) That is — I mean — Ellen (laughingly).— Oh, no ; don't you try to get out again ! You have be- trayed yourself ! You know — Uncle Abe.— What do I know ? Ellen.— That Pauline loves Rivers ! Uncle Abe (closing his mouth with his hand). —V si, P'st ! Who told you that Ellen.— You forget that I am a woman. Uncle Abe (simply). — Strange ! I didn't notice anything between Rivers and Pauline. Ellen. —If Pauline would only have confidence in me — Uncle Abe.— Of course she would have that if she knew that you are her sister-in-law. Ellen (hasly).—'^o, she musn't get acquainted with that fact ; that is a secret which is too important. Uncle Abe.— Well, then we must wait until everything is cleared up by itself in course of time. Ellen.— That's my opinion also, at least I wouldn't do a single step without the knowledge and consent of my husband. I tried to find you before already, to tell you that on account of what has happened in this house to-day, I must see and speak to my husband ns soon as possible. I have written him a letter to that effect and would ask you to be so kind and post it for me immediately The mat leaves at three, he can have the letter at six and can easily be here by eight o'clock. The reason why I trouble you to post this letter for me is that I am afraid to send a servant with it, as he might read the address and betray everything. Then I would beg you also to write the address on the letter, as my handwriting ou it would also be very dangerous. i^Gives him the letter.) Uncle Abe.— All right, my dear ; give me the letter and rest assured that I will attend to it properly. -^Raising her head by her chin. ) Cheer up, every- thing will be all right yet. UNCLE ABE. 35 TWELFTH SCENE. Ellen, Uncle Abe. Enter Pauline from the house. Pauline (seeing JJ^'ctjii^B^ hold Ellen by the chin, sharp). — Ah, Uncle Abe are you trying to find frnftf Miss Ellen has toothache ? It is strange that lady seems to have a magic power oyer .^"i^nng as well as old hearts. Uncle Abe. — I wish you wouldn't talk as frivolous as that, Pauline. - ■ *^■ ' Ellen {in a friendly tone). — And above all hav?g^^ little confidence in me. Con- fidence dissolves misunderstandings, which have been brought about by groundless suspicion, the easiest. {Exit Into the house.) Pauline (looking after her). — Nothing but phrases, that's all. Uncle Abe. — Are you not ashamed of your behavior towards that poor child ? Pauline {mockingly). — Poor child ! It seems to me as if you are bewitched by her also. Unle Abe. — If you knew — {slaps his mouth.) Pauline.— What ? Uncle Abe. — Nothing. Pauline. — Although you are so mysteriously and talk as if you knew more, I believe what I have seen with my own eyes. Uncle Abe. — Yes, but with spectacles of jealousy and suspicion on them. Why did you begin the quarrel with Rivers again ? Pauline. — On account of those verses. I may look at the thing as I plase, it is and will be a fact that he made those verses for Ellen. Uncle Abe.— He didn't dream of it. Pauline. — How do you know? Uncle Abe.— Because Ellen doesn't think of Rivers. Pauline {gladly).— In that true ? Oh, dear Uncle Abe, tell me, please tell me. Uncle Abe.— What shall I tell you ? Pauline.— Of whom Ellen thinks ; because, if it isn't Rivers, it must surely be somebody else, and if I am positive who it is, I am happy, I am content You know about the whole thing, as you have just now betrayed yourself ; so please confess and relieve me of my fearful doubts. Uncle Abe.— What ! I betrayed myself? Pauline.— Certainly, by telling me so decidedly that Ellen doesn't think of Rivers. Now, everybody with five senses can see that there is something im- portant behind that assertion, and that you know about it. Uncle Abe.— How shrewd these girls are ! One foresees the secrets of the other. Pauline.— The secrets of the other? So Ellen- Uncle Abe. — Has found out long ago what is tlie matter with you and Rivers. Pauline. — And didn't mention a word to me about it. 36 UNCLE ABE. Uncle Abe. — How could she? Just tbiuk how you treated her! Haughty, uucivil, overbearing I Oh your behavior was very wrong, considering that you are a young girl and she a married woman ! Pauline {catching hold of his arm in astonishment). — What, Ellen a married woman ? Ellen married ? Uncle Abe {angry about himself). — Nonsense ! Who said so? Pauline. — Now, look here. Uncle Abe. It's no use of you to try and back out. You have betrayed yourself again, nnd now I insist upon knowing your entire secrets. Uncle Abe. — Wouldn't you be quiet, please? Pauline. — ^No; I must know everything. Uncle Abe. — Well, then— but don't scream like that— Ellen is (no, I should say, was) married — she is a widow! Pauline.— A widow! Uncle Abe. — At least, a grass-widow. She is a poor, pitiable woman! Her husband left her — nobody knows where he is — and she was forced to look out for her support herself. Pauline. — Poor creature! and I have wronged her so deeply! but I will try and reciprocate everything, and will be a true friend to her in the future. Rivers has also been wronged by me — how glad I am of that! {Sees Rivers' notebook laying on the chair in the arbor.) And there is his notebook on the chair— so he spoke the truth ? {Takes the book.) Now, everything is clear to me— William, that little rascal, has found it, and created the entire mis- understanding by his frivolity. Oh, how glad I am that everything is cleared up satisfactorily! Uncle Abe. — What a curious creature a woman is! rain and sunshine, storm and spring weather, in one moment. Pauline. — And now, uncle Abe, you must do me a favor. Uncle Abe. — What is it, my dear? Pauline.— I had arranged an interview with Rivers for to-night — Uncle. Abe {reproachfully). — An interview! Oh! Pauline. — Don't scold, dear uncle Abe. As long as the world stands, loving people have had secret interviews. Uncle Abe {laughingly). ~^e?L\\y'f and where is it to take place? Pauline. — Never mind that— I can keep my secrets better than you. Rivers went away in very bad humor, though, and I'm afraid that he'll not come; so I've made up my mind to write to him that everything has been cleared up satisfactorily, and that I expect him to-night as agreed. Will you please post the letter for me ? Uncle Abe.— What cau I do but consent to be your postilion d' amour ? Pauline. — Thanks, a thousand thanks! I will have it ready for you in a few moments. {Exit into the house.) Uncle Abe.— But now I htive to take care of my tongue, and not betray myself any more. I'm afraid, though, that one-half of my secrets have leaked out already. UNCLE ABE. 3t THIRTEENTH SCENE. Uncle Abe. Enter John from the house. John.— Uncle Abe ! Uncle Abe.— Well, what's the matter? John. — A gentleman has just come who wants to see you on a very import^ ant matter; he says he is in a great hurry, and wants to see you immediately. Uncle Abe.— Aha, that's Mr. Boyd! I'm coming, I'm coming. {Ecit with John, into the house.) FOURTEENTH SCENE. Enter Rivebs through the gate in the wall, looking around cautiously. Rivers. — I hope nobody is in the garden, as I wouldn't like to be seen here for anything. All I want is my notebook; it would be very awkward for me if it fell into other hands, as it contains letters which I don't want to be read by anybody. {Goes to the arbor, and searches it.) Not here! what has become of it? No doubt somebody found it, and played me that nasty trick with those verses— at least that's the only way in which P.iuline's jealousy and impetu- ousness is explicable, and excuses her behavior. If I could only speak to her! I cannot possibly go there, as by that I would lose all respect in her eyes. Oh, it's a fearful position in which I am! Our interview is also spoiled by the affair, as she most certainly will not expect me to come and, consequently, will not come herself. Halloa! isn't that her voice? she is coming here with uncle Abe. I'll hide myself in that arbor, because, if she sees me, she might believe that — {Retires in the background of the arbor.) FIFTEENTH SCENE. RiVEBS. Enter Uncle Abe and Pauline />om the house. Pauline {stopping in the door).— So 1 rely on you, uncle Abe; if you attend to the letter properly, I'll make yon a nice present on your birthday. Uncle Abe {with hat ami cane, as if ready to go out, and two leHers in his hand). — All right, you little romp; you can rely on me. {Crosses the stage towards the gate, at the same time putting the two letters in his pocket)? Mr. Boyd was in a great hurry, and has gone right to Boston ; it must be a pretty important piece of business, anyhow — the cotton affair. If I only knew where to find Mr. Chase now! Well, I'll try his office, and see if he is there, and at the same time post the other letters. {About to exit.) Rivers.— P'st, p'st! Uncle Abe. — Eh ! Did somebody call me ? Rivers {stq)ping from the arbor).— Yes, it's I. Uncle Abe. — Ah. Mr. Rivers ! {laughingly) I'm glad to meet you, as I can give you the letter yourself now, which I was going to send you by mail {hunts for the letter in his pocket). Pauline has found out that she has wronged you, 38 UNCLE ABE. and has written you this letter for fear that you might not come to the rendez- vous to-night as arranged. Here is the letter {hands him the letter). Rivers {excitedly taking the letter). —Thanks, many thanks, dor uncle Abe. You have brought me glorious news. {Opens the letter hastily.) Uncle Abe {good-humoredly). — Well, I declare, you are as much excited as if you got a despatch that gold went up or down about fifty per cent., at a jump. Carious people those are which are in love. Rivers {aside). — What's that ? {reading) Have arranged to buy the cotton of Jones & Co. , in Baltimore, at twelve cents a pound, if you telegraph there that you want it. Within a fortnight it will be surely up to eighteen. Have you right on to Boston. {Speaks) No signature ? {looks at the envelope) No address ? This is a mistake. The letter is not intended for me. But for whom? — Pshaw, never mind ; that piece of news is worth gold to me {pids the letter in his pocket. Embraces Uncle Abe). Dear uncle Abe, you have brought golden news to me. Tell Pauline to expect me for sure. I will come positively', and perhaps be able to tell her something which will make both of us happy. {Exit, hurriedly, through gate.) [Jnc\e l^be {laughingly). — He behaves, like a madman. Generally Rivers is a pretty sensible and quiet man, and now he seems to loose his senses about an interview with his beloved. It is true, that such young people are not to be blamed for iheir pranks, if old fools like Mr. Chase and myself can't keep their heads level. Ellen has charmed all of us, even me, and I think that I could — Pshaw, what an idea, to stand here and talk such nonsense while I have more important things to attend to ! I'll go now and bring Mr. Chase the cotton- news. {About to exit.) SIXTEENTH SCENE. Uncle Abe. Enter Mb. Chase, through gate. Mr. Chase.— Well, uncle Abe, have you got good news for me ? Uncle Abe. —Yes, sir ; here it is {gives him a letter). Mr. Chase {opens the letter, reads aside). — To-night — in uncle Abe's room - yours, in hurry — 'EAlen— {embracing Uncle Abe) Uncle Abe, you have worked my cause charmingly. If everything goes right I'll make you a present of a fine ivory chess-board. {Exit, into the house.) Uncle Abe {cMckling).— Must be good news about the cotton, that, to excite that stern man in such a m nner. Well, an ivory chess-board would please me very much, I declare. That's the way people are. I enjoy a game of chess, he {pointing to the gate where Rivers Ipft) gets out of his senses for joy about a love-letter, and he {pointing towards the house after Me. Chase) gets in raptures about a cotton news which may bring him a big pile of money. A queer world this is indeed ! And now, I'll go and post Ellen's letter to Fred.— But hold on, she told me to write the address on it myself, which I forgot. Well, I can do that at the post-office {takes two letters from Ms pocket and looks at them in as- ionishment). By Jove, there are two letters yet ! One is Ellen's letter to Fred, and the other, Mr. Chase's to Ellen, which I didn't give to her. But that one UNCLE ABE. 39 is without an address also. Quite right, such letters must never be addressed as they might come into wrong hands. The question now is, which is which ? Hold on, the envelopes are of very thin paper, and I guess I can look through them {holds them up agairist the light). Confound it, no; all I can see is that this one is long, and the other short. The one for Fred must be the long one, as a young wife that hasn't seen her husband for four days has got a great deal to write to him. Consequently, I'll send this long one, it's surely the right one. Wouldn't that be a mess and confusion if I should accidently exchange the letters, and the wrong one would come into the wrong hands ? Ha, ha •' what a row that would be. I'll take good care though that nothing of the kind will happen. {Exit, chuckling.) Curtain drops. THIRD ACT. A plain room. — Two doors in background with curtains which are opened. — Through the doors L a bedroom is seen, while the door K shows a closet full of clothing — The door which is used as general entrayice is on the right side of the stage, also door L, which is closed. — Window R draped by heavy dark curtains, which are open. — R and L tables with very large tablecloths. — La sofa. — Time between dusk and dark. FIRST SCENE. Enter Rivers and Pauline. Pauline. — Come in here : here we are safe. 0, how I am frightened ! Rivers. —Qniet yourself, please. Pauline. — Did you recognize him also? Rivers. — Yes, it was your brother Billy. I saw him quite plain, as he stood on the garden wall, looking cautiously around, and then jump into the garden. Pauline. — I wonder what his ^bject was ! If he had seen us, we would have surely been betrayed, as he can't keep his tongue. Luckily, however, this door (pointing to door B) of Uncle Abe's room, leading into the garden, was open. Here we can quietly and undisturbed chat for a quarter of an hour. Uncle Abe is gone to the club to play a game of chess and will surely not be home before nine o'clock. And even if he returns, he must come through the house and this door ( pointing to door L), when we will have plenty of time to escape through the other one {R) into the garden. Rivers. —Are you convinced now, my dear Pauline, that you have wronged me? Pauline. — Ps't, don't let us talk of that! I will believe that you are innocent. Rivers (provdked). — Only believe! and you are not convinced? Pauline. — I dont trust any man, and, consequently, it is very hard to con- vince me on such a subject as the one in question. Rivers [in a loud tone). — So you mean to say that you are nol convinced? Pauline.— P'st, don't talk so loud as that. Rivers. — There is surely nobody around here that can hear us ? Pauline.— But I'm always in a fright that somebody saw us in the garden. Oh, how foolish it was of me to grant yon this interview! Rivers. — Tell me, have you no confidence in me ? are you not convinced of my innocence yet ? UNCLE ABE. 41 Pauline. — I think it is rather queer of you to force me into a verbal repeti- tion of the acknowledgement of my guilt, as I have written it to you already. Rivers. — Written to me? Pauline. — In my letter of to-day. Rivers.— Which letter ? Pauline. — The one I sent you this afternoon; didn't you receive it? Rivers.— No. Pauline. — But I invited yon once more to our interview in it. Rivers. — I didn't receive any letter. Uncle Abe told me verbally that you had admitted to have wronged me, and expected me for sure to-night. Pauline. — Uncle Abe told you that, and didn't give you my letter? Rivers. — He had a letter from you for me? Oh, now I comprehend everything! Pauline. -What? Rivers. — P'st! Don't you hear something? Pauline. — Yes — footsteps. (Goes to window R.) Rivers. — Who can that be ? Pauline. — For God's sake it is Ellen! She is coming here. I would die, for shame, if she sees us. Rivers.— What is to be done ? Pauline. -It is impossible to escape through that {poinUng to R.) door, as we would meet her there, and this one {pointing to L.) is locked; all we can do is to hide ourselves. {Goes to door L. in background, and hides behind the cur- tains, which she closes.) Rivers. — What an awkward situation wo are in! {About to follow Pauline.) Pauline {looking out from behind the curtains) —Don't come in here! what would the people say if we were found in here together ? Rivers.— But where shall I go ? Pauline.— Hide yourself under one of those tables. Rivers {crawls under the table R.). — A nice hiding place, I declare! SECOND SC^ENE. Enter Ellen. Ellen {coming forward). — Re didn't come yet! I hope Uncle Abe hasn't for- gotten to post my letter. My position in this family is becoming almost un- bearable, on account oi Pauline's jealousy and the behavior of Mr. Chase towards me, which I understand but too well. If Fred hasn't got the courage to tell his farther the truth I'll have to leave the house, as I really don't know what to do in case Mr, Cbasf should grow more importunate {Goes to the window R. ) What a beautiful evening it is! Fred will have jfine weather for his ride home to-night. What's that? soniebodv is out there in the garden! 4^2 UNCLE ABE. It isn't Fred, though; he is taller— it's Billy! he is cutting flowers again That frightful boy will bring himself find me into serious trouble j'et bj' his be- havior— for his sake I must also insist on an explanation. But what's the matter now ? Billy seems to be alarmed ! — he looks around anxiously !— is somebody else coming j^et? My God, he is coming here! if he would see me it would be fearful! where can I hide myself? {Goes to door R. in background, and hides behind the curtains, ichich F.he closes. Pauline observes, dnring tJiis and the following scenes, everything which happeins . on the stage, by peeping out from behind the curtain, drawing her head haek quickly whenever she thinks that iht person on the stage looks in the direction where she is and might see her. Rivers the same, from under the table. THIRD SCENE. Enter William, icith a bouquet of flowers. William. — Oho, if you want to catch me, you bave to be a little quicker!— (goes to the window, R.) From here I can overlook the whole garden. I didn't certainly climb over that high wall to be caught, and loose my flowers besides. If I only knew who it was that was sneaking around in the garden. It's getting too dark to rceognize anybody; but I'm pretty sura it was pa, judging by his cough. But what can he want out here as late as this ? And then, it seemed to me again, as if somebody was trying to open the gate in the garden wall from the outside. Anyhow, I'm glad that I'm in here, as it would have been a nice row about those flowers if p.i had caught me. — Halloa, somebody comes here ; let us try and find a hiding place ! {7-uns to the door L., in the back- ground, where Paulineis hid, and opens the curtains.) Pauline shids his mouth with her hand, shoves him back, and motions him to be quiet. William (astonished). - Pauline ! What does that mean? Those footsteps are coming nearer. Perhaps I can be witness of an adventure. Let us crawl un- der that table (crawls under table, L). FiUL-EN observes everything which happens by peeping out fro7n behind the curtain, draimng her head back quick whenever she thinks that the person on the stage looks in the direction where she is, and might see her. Rivers (peeping oxd). -Miserable position this. It seems to me as if there are more persons iiTthe room than me. WxWxdivn {peeping out from under his /aWe). -Wasn't that a man's voice that spoke just now ? FOURTH SCENE. Enter Frederic, quick. Nobody here yet ! How can I let Ellen know that I am here ? The best way will be to wait till uncle Abe comes, and send him to tell her. I must see her to get an explanation about that strange letter of my father, which I received UNCLE ABE. 43 to-day. [.Takes a lettfrfrom his pocket, and reads.) "Dear Ellen, I have taken ii great fancy to you, and am anxious to prove the esteem and veneration I feel for you, by providing for your future. Although, as you know, my principles lire strictly iu accordance with my position in life, I am willing to abstain from them for your sake. But as such an important step, which involves the happiness of a whole lifetime, demands due consideration, I would request yon by Ihis to grant me an interview for the purpose of exchanging our views on he subject." — (Speaks) It's my father's hand and signature, but the letter is addressed to me, and the address written by uncle Abe. I'm at a loss what to think about it. That letter was most decidedly intended for my wife. But how does it come that it is sent to me, by mail ? and addressed to me ? Per- haps it was accidentally exchanged. {During all this time the same by-play by Ellen, Pauline, Rivers and William. Ellen tries to draw the attention of Frederic towards her, hut always hides be- hind the curtain when she sees William. Frederic (proceeds). — And if this letter is intended for my wife, what does it mean ? Has uncle Abe betrayed our secret to my father ? and is he willing to give his coasent to our marriage ? — it can be explained this way. Or should my father have taken such a fancy to Ellen ihat he intends to marry her him- self? as the letter can also be interpreted that way; that's not improbable, as Ellen is a very chraming woman, and the fire of old folks is sometimes very easily ignited. And why didn't my wife write to me yet ? no letter in four days ! All that excited me to such a degree that I came here to-night, even without a letter from my wife. I must and will have an explanation of all that has happened. If uncle Abe would only come here soon, as waiting in such a disposition of mind is like torture ! and yet I'll have to wait patiently till he comes, as I don't know of any other way to notify Ellen of my presence, and dare not go into the house for fear somebody might see me. But holloa, what is that? Isn't somebody coming here? it's uncle Abe, I suppose— but, no! it's father, coughing! what is he looking for in the garden, at this time ? By Jove, he's coming here! if he sees me I am lost— where can I hide myself? {Runs to door R., where Ellen is hid, bid steps back when he sees her.) [Ellen shuts his mouth with her hand and pulls him into her hiding place, ] William.— What, he hides himself also ! How are we going to get out of this? Pauline. — The situation is getting worse every minute. Rivers.— I wonder who that was just now ; it is impossible to see or hear anything iu this confounded position. FIFTH SCENE. Enter Mr. Chase, reading his letter good-humoredly. R is beginning to get dark. Mr. Chase. — "To-night, in uncle Abe's room. — Yours, iu a hurry, — Ellen." Well, I never thought I would succeed as easily as this! Generally, girls are kind of bashful, but Ellen seems to look at the whole thing in a more sensible 44 UNCLE ABE. light ; may be basbfulness is out of fashion, and girls are different now from what they were when I got acquainted with luy deceased wife! — so much the better! as too long a courtship wouldn't have suited me at all. But that she accepts as quick as this flatters my vanity not a little, for, if she didn't like me, she surely wouldn't have come. And how smart she is -that little witch! — to select the finest place to be had for a secret interview, as this room is almost entirely separated from the other part of the house and has a separate entrance from the garden— I'm sure nobody will surprise us here, as uncle Abe quietly plays his game of chess at the club, not knowing that his sanctum sandonim is made the scene of a rendezvous — what a face he would make if he would come ! Ha, ha, ha! But where is Ellen ?— she is not very punctual. SIXTH SCENE. Uncle Abe, outside in the garden. Uncle Abe {scolding).— A nice mess that is! somebody uiust have left the gate open, and the dog came in the garden. No wonder that all the flowers are spoiled! Mr. Chase.— Halloa, there is uncle Abe! he is scolding about the dog, which I accidentally must have let into the garden. But what in the world brings him home as early as this? — that'll spoil everything. Maybe he only comes for something which he forgot, and will go away again soon — I'll hide myself be- hind those window curtains so long. {Goes to the window, loosens the curtains, and hides behind them.) William {peeping out).— 'Now we are caught, all of us ! Enter Uncle Abe, carrying two bottles of wine under his arm. Uncle Abe. — Nobody here yet ! I thought for sure to find Fred already, be- cause I saw the gate in the garden wall open when I passed down the street. John must have forgotton to lock it to-night. I'm glad I came in that way in- stead of through the house so as to drive out that dog that was making a fear- ful havoc amongst our flowers. I locked it now, as Fred can get in any way with his key. — Didn't I beat old Ph. Hips in our game of chess to-night ! Ha, ha, he was nowheres, and I would have liked very much to Ibllow up my. vic- tory by a second game if I didn't think that Fred was here already. And then I felt a little uneasy on account of having left my door unlocked for them. — It's strange that Ellen isn't here yet, either ! Well, may be they will both come very soon, and in the meantime I'll take my ease a little {puts the wine on the table under ichich William is concealed, and lights the candle which is on the table). There is some wine I brought for Fred, as he may want to refresh him- self a little after his ride. — I guess I'll put on my slippers and my nightgown, and then smoke a cigar till they come. — What'ts that ? Who closed the curtiiins of my bedroom, I wonder ? — Nonsense ! in a weather and heat like this, a per- son wants as much fresh air as he possibly can get. That's one of those foolish whims of the chambermaid again, I suppose The curtains of the window and closet are closed also. What foolishness ! {goes to door L , in the background, for the purpose of opening the curtains. ) UNCLE ABE. 45 Mr. Chase {peeping out from behind the window-curtains). — I hope he wouldn't stay home ; that would be a uice thing ! :^ Draws hack.) Pauline {peeping out— to Uncle Abe, in a whisper'). For God's sake keep qiiief. Uncle Abe (astoinshed, looking around in amazement, and coming forward a few steps — in an undertone). — By Jove, Pauline is in there ! — How does she come there? and why shall I keep quiet ? Is somel^ody else here yet? {Goes on his tiptoes to door i?., in background, trying io open that curtain.) Ellen looks out, and motions him to keep quiet. Uncle Abe {coming fonci:inl).--Fi\nVuie sa.v Ellen go lo my room, and followed her to find out wLat she was about, and for that purpose hid herself in my bed- room. Ellen, noticing that, has hid herself in the closet, and now they both don't know how to get out without seeiug each other. — Whom shall I help? H'm, I gness I'll sit down and drink a gla.ss of wine, apparently unconcerned, and let them get out the best way they can. {Oofs to table L., under ichich AViLLiAM is concealed. In sitting down, he knocks with his foot against William, and jumps up, frightened. ) What's that ? Somebody under that table also ? Perhaps it's a thief, that has sneaked in here while the garden gate was open, which frightened Ellen and Pauline, and forced the girls to hide themselves. — Let us see, {Goes over to R., and around table R., watching table L. all the time, as if to find oid who is concealed under it, thereby passing the window with his back, where he knocks against Mr. Cuf^H^— jumping forward, icith a light shriek to centre of stage.) The devil, there is another one ! What shall I do ? {chuck- ling) Ha-ha-ha, — no— no, they are no thieves — at least, the}' don't want to steal anything. But what is to be done ? I guess the best thing for me is to make believe that I leave the room, amd then hide myself somewhere, also, until they are all out again. It's their business to find the best way out, as they found it in. {Goes with great noise and ostentation to the door, opeyis and shuts it noisily, as if he went out, and then sneaks on tiptoes behind the sofa^ where he hides himself also. All others peep out carefully from behind the curtains and then draic their heads back again. William. — If I could only, sneak away without anybody seeing me! I'll try. Perhaps father is gone, and I'll get out safe. {Looks around carefully.) Mr. Chase, peeping out from behind the curtain, sees William. William {seeing that he is delected by his father, in a dejected tone). —Good eve- ning, father. Mr. Chase.— What are you doing there? William {embarrassed). — ! — I— it is only a joke. Mr. Chase {stepping out from behind the curtain). — Come out here, sir! William crawls out from under the table. Mr. Chase.— What does all this mean? William.- Nothing, father. Mr. Chase.— I.thought you are in your room, studying your lessons ?— but, instead of that, you were in he the garden again, I suppose? Didn't I forbid you to go there in the evening ? 46 UNCLE ABB. William.— Father— I— Mr. Chase (severely). — The truth, sir, if you don't want me to punish you se verely! I hope that you were not about to steal flowers again, and, on account of being surprised, hid yourself in here? William.— To be sure not, father; I was about- to — Mr. Chase. -Well ? William.— To— oh, it was only a joke! I was about to surprise Pauline. Mr. Chase. — Pauline! where is she? William (2)ointing to PaiiUne's hiding place). — In there. Mr. Chase. — In there! let me see, [Goes iheieand opens the curtains.) Pauline {steps out, very much embarrassed). — Good evening, father. Mr. Chase. — What does this mean? what are you doing here? Pauline.— I— I — Mr. Chase.— I, I! what is the reason you stammer ? — that's very suspicious. Pauline.— But nothing bad, dear father. Mr. Chase.— And surely nothing good, either, or you wouldn't hesitate to give me an upright answer. Tell me the truth immediately, if you don't want me to believe the worst. Pauline (m the greatest embarrassment). — I — I was going to watch Miss Ellen — no, Frederic! Mr. Chase.— Miss Ellen! Frederic! where are they? Pauline [pointing to Ellen and Fred's hiding place).— In there. Mr. Chase.— Fred and Ellen ?— impossible! Come out, if you are in there. Ellen and Fkedeeic step out from their hiding place. Mr. Chase.— Really, there they are! Why are you not at the cotton, mill, sir? Frederic. — Pardon, dear father! Mr. Chase. — And you. Miss Ellen, hid in there with my son — what shall I think of you ? Pauline (pinc/iinj7 William's arm-aside). — Such a nasty young scamp, to be- tray me. William {aside, to Pauline).— Everybody tries to got out of the scrape as good as possible. '* Mr. Chase. — All silent ! No answer ! Frederic {aside to Pauline). — You ought to be ashamed of yourself to betray me like this. Pauline {aside, to Feed). — Everybody tries to get out of the scrape as good as possible. Mr. Chase. — I see that my present inquiry is of no use.— Where is uncle Abe ? He must know about all this, as without his knowledge and consent no- body could get into his room. Pauline {quickly). — Yes, pa ; uncle Abe can explain everything to you. UNCLE ABE. 47 Frederic.-Uucl. Abe knows all. ( y, /^^,. Ellen. Uncle Abe knows besf. \ •' Mr. Chase. - But where is be ? William {icho saw Uncle Abe before). — There he is behind the sofa. Uncle Abe {comes out from behind the sofa, rubbing his hands in embarrassment. ) — Gnod evening, cbildren. All, in ashmishmeni. Oh, uncle Abe ! Uncle Abe {comimj forward —sloidy). — Yes, here I am Mr. Chase {to Uncle Abe). — Will you explain to me, then, how — ? ] Frederic— You know ever3'thing, so explain. [Almost Ellen. — Our hope depends upon you. \ together. Pauline. —You can dnvw us all out of our embarrassment. J Uncle Abe. -You demand pretty much of me at once. Pauline, Fred, William and Ellen, together. Please, dear uncle Abe ! Uncle Abe.— All right, then ! If you want me to explain, I must first ask you liow do you all come into my room ? Silence ! — Well, then, I must ask one after the other. — Billy, how did you come in here ? William. — Uncle Abe, I am the youngest of all, and as old age must always have the preference, I wish you would also begin to interrogate the eldest one here first. Uncle Abe. — All right, then. Let the oldest one speak first {looking around embarrassed). Mr. Chase, you are the oldest — and I don't know if — Mr. Chase {motioning Uncle Abe to come to his side, and then says to him in an undertone). — Keep quiet ; don't you know that I have written to Ellen, ask- ing her to grant me an interview for the purpose of finding out what she thought about a marriage with me ; and didn't you give her the letter yourself ? She answered on my letter by appointing an interview in your room to-night. Uncle Abe {astonished). — Ellen? — Impossible ! Mr. Chase {gives him a letter). -There, read yourself. Uncle Abe. — How does this letter come into your hands ? Mr. Chase. — Why, didn't you give it to me ? Uncle Abe. -I? But that letter is intended for Fred. Mr. Chase. — For Fred? --Well. then, how does Ellen come to write such let- ters to my son ? Uncle Abe {embarrassed). — PtTha[)S it wasn't inttiidod for Fred, either ? Mr. Chase. -Oh, yes! it was for him, and that fact is proved by Ellen and Fred being hefe to-night. ' The letter must have been exchanged with another one, and by change got into my hands. Uncle Abe (/yvV//(/ertecZ).— Exchanged! But where is the other one? Mr. Chase. AYhioh other one ? 48 UNCLE ABE. Uncle Abe {aside, not knowing what to do). — That is a nice mess! But who has the letter Mr. Boyd brought ? Mr. Chase (aloud). -I don't know what I shall think of the whole affair! In what relation is Miss Ellen to my son, giving her the right to send him such letters ? and what other letter is that, which you said I should have in place of this one ? I want an answer to all that, Uncle Abe ? Uncle Abe (aside). —Now comes the catastrophe. {Aloud) But. if you have got this letter. Frederic must liavo got a wrong one also. Frederic. — Certainly; a letter which was entirely unintelligible to me, and which was the reason that I came here to-night. {Gives uncle Abe the letter.) Uncle Abe {aside, lohile taking the letter from i'l-ed).— Thanks to God; Mr. Boyd's letter didn't get into the wrong hands, after all! {Aloud, ichile opening the letter) Here you iire, Mr. Chase — the devil! what is this again ? Mr. Chase {taking the letter, in an undertone to uncle Abe). — That's my letter to Miss Ellen. Uncle Abe {bluffed). — So it seems. Mr. Chase. — And addressed to my son, in your handwriting? {Returns the letter to Uncle A be. ) Uncle Abe {looking at the letter, bewildered). — Yes, yes; that's so! Mr. Chase. — The whole affair is getting more mysterious at every minute. Frederic. — I could give that letter only one explanation, dear father — and that was that uncle Abe had told you everything about Ellen and me, and that you wanted a private interview with Ellen for this reason: to tell her yourself that you had no prejudice against her being a girl without means, and, con- sequently, no objections to our marriage. Mr. Chase. — What, ngainst yotir marriage with Miss Ellen? Uncle Abe [having during this time read the letter of Mr. Chase, aside to Mr. Chase) —For God's sake say yes, as that's the best veay to draw yourself out of the snare. They were married secretly, long ago. Fred broiight Ellen into your family, as housekeeper, for the purpose of winning your affections; she has succeeded only too well. Luckily, this letter can be interpreted in two ways. Do you want to tell them that you meant to propose your hand to Ellen by it ? that you have come here on account of having thought that she con. sented to it? If that becomes known, you will be laughed at. Mr. Chas?. — A miserable position I am in. \inc\e fibe {always whispering to Mr. Chase). -If you considered Miss Ellen fit to be your wife, you can have no objections against her as your daughter- in-law, or else you stamp yourself as acting under the influence of jealousy and malice. So you had better say yes, and by that drag j-ourself out of the sn!),re. Mr. Chase. — You are right ; there is nothing else left for me to do. {Aloud to Ellen and Fkederic) To be sure, did uncle Abe tell me everything ; and al- though I should be angry — Uncle Abe has, during this time, gone to Ellen and Fred, and shoved them towards Mk. Chase. [TNCr.E ARE. 49 Frederic. / _jy^^^. f^^^iier, you forgi,vq? Ellen. \ Mr. Chase {putting their hands together).— \Niih ail my Leiirt ! ^''p^®*''°- ^ — Thaulcs/ailionsmdtlianks ! \ Ellen. .\ -. -:■: . - ■ ,■ :-y ■ ' -■■ ^ -■ - -■ . iWr. Chase.— Fntiei- the coudition, though, that, as I will not send Fred to the cottou-inill again, y()u have to stay in my house as housekeeper, ami must not forget to love the old father a little bit, besides your young husband. Ellen. -Oh, yon shall be content with me. Frederic— We will do all we can to make life pleasant for you. Uncle Abe [joyoKsly).- Settled satisfactorily at last ! Ha-ha-ha ! Ellen {to Pauline). — Dear sister ! Pauline. — Can you forgive my rude behavior ? Ellen and Pauline embrace and kiss each oihtr. Mr. Chase {to Pauline). — But now you must tell me what your business was in here. Uncle Abe. — And above all, as the letters have been exchanged, I must have the right, one in my pocket yet. ( Takes a letter from his pocket) — Indeed, there it is. Oh, how glad I am that 1 didn't loose it. Mr. Chase.— What letter is that? Uncle Abe.-iThe one Mr. Boyd gave me for you ; that is the one T intended to give you {in an undertone) when I gave you Ellen's letter to Fred. ' - ' ■ Mr. Chase.— And now I get that letter by far too late for a satisfactory ar- rangement of the cotton business.— But let me see, anj'how, what he writes. \^Opens the letter)— 'Wh&i'ii that? (Reads) "I have wronged you '; come into the garden to-night, as arranged. I hope to reconcile you. Yours, for ever, Pauline." Pauline {a^ide to Uncle Abe).— What did j^ou do ? That is my letter. Uncle Abe eW'#ed).- Your letter? • -; Mr. Chase.— What is this, Pauline ? For whom is this letter intended ? Pauline. — For— Mr. Chase. -Well? Pauline {t}ashfuily).— For Mr. Rivers. , ..Mr. Chase.— For Mr. Rivers? So there is another love affair behind my >^''-back,eh? -A rendezvous !-Well, I'll settle that afterwards. First, I want to know of yoh now, uncle Abe, where that letter from Mr. Boyd is ? Uncle Abe {dejectedly). —1 really don't knO)\y. ; Fni; entirely, confounded., Mr. Chase.— But don't you know that the letter was very important; 3\nd can't you recollect to whom you gave it, or where it is? . ".- .:;: :; ,-;,■ Rivers {craK;lin■ Almost together. Frederic. - Don't refuse, pa, please ! ) Mr. Chase.— All right, then. That cotton job was a smart piece of business of yours, and you shall have the girl as a reward for your shrewdness. Paiflfne \ ^'^^y' ^^^y thanks, dear father ! William. — And I luckily got out pf the scrape without being bruised. Uncle Abe {wiping his forehead). — Two happy couples! — iwho would have thought of that this forenoon ? Mr. Chase. — But the whole confusion has been created by uncle Abe- Frederic— Because he didn't keep silent — Pauline. — And betrayed everything and everybody. Uncle Abe. —About which you oughtn't to growl at me, though, as everything turned out right, alter all. You packed too many secrets on my poor shoulders — they were entirely too heavy for me to carry. Mr. Chase.— But the letters! what mischief couldn't they have created? Uncle Abe {to Hie public). — Didn't I tell you before that a fearful confusion would arise if, by chance, the letters were exchanged? I'm only glad that everything came out good at the end. Ihe curtain drops. a^. ^%.. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS lllllllillllllliilill 015 910 205 1 ,