taa s&sasp f lint, 
 
 OR 
 
 INJUNCTIONS A SPECIALTY 
 
 BY G. W. FIELD, 
 
 Author of "A Treatise on Private Corporations" — "A 
 Treatise on the Law of Damages," etc., etc. 
 
 [Dramatised from a Story by the Author, in pre. is. 
 
 POTSDAM: 
 
 St. Lawrence Heraed Print. 
 
 1878. 
 
vasa ©Aian 1 ©m©wss®, 
 
 INJUNCTIONS A SPECIALTY. 
 
 c-^— ^e^^) S$3 
 
 a feiAt, 
 
 BY G. W. FIELD, 
 
 Author of " A Treatise on Private Corporations" — "A 
 
 Treatise on the Law of Damages,' 1 etc., etc. 
 
 [Dramatised from a Story by the Author, in press.] 
 
 POTSDAM : i 
 Btf. Lawrence ORerald PRltfff 
 
 .1 878, 
 
£ iff 
 
 
 Entered according to the Act of C<$*i&WeB8 M £fc« fMTlftfg 5.? 0«W0 
 Washington Field, in the oilice of the Librarian' at WasMugt6n.] 
 
 G&AmAC&BMSi 
 
 lOVtS MARSILE, an old man, and a French refugee, 
 JOSEPHINE, his daughter. 
 
 HENRY WESTOOTT, a Captain in the Patriot War. 
 THOMAS SLAUGHTER, a -lawyer of New York, 
 A, DOLITTLE, his partner, 
 GOODDAY 1 
 
 HANSOME | th{ u t 
 
 WING and 
 
 De LANIERS 
 MRS. SLAUGHTER, wife of S. 
 SU|ANand | his daughter*. 
 
 tH ADE0S DTJMONT, a wealthy citizen of New York, 
 
 MRS. DUMONT, bis wife. 
 LOUIS NAPOLEAN, his son. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON PHILBRI0K, ) Companions 
 
 NAPOLEON VAN DUSEN. of Louis 
 
 LEONIDAS HUMBOLT JONES, } Phillippe, 
 
 MR. FIELDING, a retired gentleman of wealth in N, Y, 
 MRS. ' ' his wile, 
 
 LENA " his daughter, 
 
 STELLA " his niece. 
 
 REV. Mr. LOVEWELL, a Methodist Clergyman, 
 
 WEBB, an actor. 
 
 WHITNEY, an old Naval Officer. 
 
 SKEN-SO-WA-NE, an Indian girl. 
 
 Minstrels, Soldiers, Officers, Servants, and Citizens-, 
 
 TMPS6-006655 
 
ACT I. 
 
 'Scene I. — ~Room in the cottage of Louis Marsile. on 17& 
 banks of the St. Lawrence. Josephine Marsile, aged 18, in 
 the dress of a peasant girl, sitting at the table in meditation*, 
 her arm upon the table and her head resting upon her hand. 
 Period, 1837. Enter Henry Westcott, a young man in the 
 uniform of an infantry Captain, and embraces and kisses 
 -Josephine. 
 
 Westcott I have come to bid you farewell. I must leave 
 you for a short time, dear Jose. I have organized a com- 
 pany, been elected captain, and to-day we must meet the 
 JPatriot forces, that are assembled on an island a short 
 distance above. [Extending his Imnd to Josephine, who 
 places hers in it] 
 
 Jose. I regretted Ifeo kear yesterday, of your connection 
 with this perilous military movement of the Patriots. A 
 feeling of disquietude, and an apprehension of disaster and 
 misfortune has oppressed me ever since. 
 
 Westcott. 0, banish these womanly fears, Put away 
 these disquieting thoughts. I feel inspired with a patriotic 
 feeling, and a desire to aid in giving freedom to the op- 
 pressed, and relief to the enslaved. Thousands in Canada 
 are secretly encouraging this movement, and ready to wel- 
 come and join us as soon as the opportunity offers; and al- 
 though our force is at present small, it will soon be swelled 
 by enlistments of discontented Canadians who are awaiting 
 our appearance within the Dominion. Fear not, my dear, 
 I feel confident of a favorable result, and actuated only by 
 a patriotic feeling., I shall gratify my highest ambition, and 
 secure not only honor and glory, but the gratitude of the 
 oppressed, and the approbation and approval of mankind. 
 
 Jose. I doubt not your sincerity, or the purity of your 
 motives, dear Henry ; but I fear you are being deceived by 
 ambitious and unprincipled leaders, who, through ignorance 
 or design, are misrepresenting the actual condition of things 
 in Canada, and the sentiments of her people. I had a sin- 
 gular dream last night, from which I received an impres- 
 sion, that disaster and misfortnne would result to the Pat- 
 
■i THE CAMP GROUKD. 
 
 riots, and that you, in your zeal and enthusiasm,, would 
 become a victim. 
 
 Westcotf. I am gratified that you have so good an opinion 
 of me. But I think your fears may be the result of that 
 timidity common to your sex, and of that unworthy and 
 selfish love, which you entertain for me. I have been es- 
 pecially honored with the command of a Company, and I 
 hope to merit the confidence reposed in me. You may 
 hereafter share with me the honors which are always con- 
 ferred on the brave and heroic. But I must leave. I am 
 soon to meet my Company near here, for the purpose of 
 drilling a little, before we depart for the place of rendez- 
 vous. Be cheerful during my absence, and when I return 
 we will enjoy the quiet of domestic life, here in the valley, 
 all the more for the trials we shall both suffer, and be sure 
 to receive the gratitude of an emancipated people. 
 
 Jose. I will try and be contented. But my thoughts will 
 follow you in this perilous enterprise. And how lonely I 
 shall be in your absence. I shall have no companions — no 
 associates but Father — no pleasures but such as nature af- 
 fords. I have during all my life, lived in comparative sol- 
 itude here, until you came and filled my soul with those 
 emotions of love, which have brought perpetual sunshine 
 and joy to my later years. For your sake, I will try and 
 banish from my mind those apprehensions which I have 
 felt, and the premonitions which I have received, and look 
 for your speedy return to enjoy the gratitude and glory 
 which you anticipate. 
 
 Westcott, Thank you, Jose. I Khali try and merit them 
 for your sake; and my labors and trials will be lightened by 
 the thought of your tender love and regard; and on my 
 return, we will consummate that mutual promise that will 
 make us one forever. Farewell! [Embraces and kisses 
 Josephine.] 
 
 Jose. Farewell ! and may the angels guide and protect 
 you. [Exit Henri/ ( ). Josephine sits down, weeping. 
 
 Enter ( ) her father, Louis Marsile, past the middle 
 
 age of life, in the garb of a fisherman.} 
 
 Mar. What now, Jose ! I have not witnessed a scene like 
 this since the death of your mother. Why are you weep- 
 ing, tliis bright and cheerful day. The river this morning 
 is as smooth and placid as a mirror, and the islands rest 
 like precious emeralds upon its surface. 
 
 Jose. Henry has just left me, I fear never to return. He 
 has joined the Patriot forces; been elected Captain of a 
 Company, and takes his men to the rendezvous to-day. I 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 5 
 
 have had a presentiment that the movement will prove un- 
 fortunate. The love I entertain for Henry, and the strong 
 impression of an impending disaster, excites my feelings 
 beyond control. You know that lie has bestowed his affec- 
 tions upon me. and that we are engaged in marriage. In 
 his absence, I shall have no company but yon. and I fear 
 that Henry will never return to cheer our humble cottage. 
 
 Louis M. Cheer up, my daughter. We will to-day have an 
 excursion on the St. Lawrence ; visit various islands and 
 secure some choice game ; and you will again feel happier. 
 I cannot feel happy while you are in this mood. I agree 
 with you that this movement for the conquest of Canada, 
 is a rash and a hazardous one. Many have been deluded. 
 The character of the volunteers is not such as to inspire 
 confidence in the result. But Henry is sincere and usually 
 prudent, as well as brave and chivalrous, and I hope if he 
 does not meet with the success he anticipates, he may re- 
 turn to us in safety. 
 
 Jose. I will cherish such a hope. In the absence of Henry, 
 I will try and enjoy with you the river and the solitudes of 
 the islands. I would to-day, especially, like to visit the 
 Great Cave, on Ana-mo-sa. I would like to explore it, and 
 you may leave me there on the way to the fishing grounds, 
 and call for me on your return. 
 
 Louis M. But could you not find greater enjoyment in the 
 society of some of your acquaintances ? 
 
 Jose. No ! I have few thoughts or sentiments in common 
 with them; and I take more pleasure with you, and in per- 
 forming my domestic duties, or alone with my little canoe, 
 threading the currents among the evergreen islands, or 
 wandering through their silent shades, than in the society 
 of most of those around us. 
 
 Louis M. This love of nature and solitude and aversion 
 of society is, I apprehend, the result of an inherited tend- 
 ency of mind. I see in you not only my own, but more es- 
 pecially your sainted mother's mental qualities and charac- 
 teristics. Your remembrance of her must be slight, and I 
 have never informed you in reference to your maternal an- 
 cestry, which may be traced by a short line to the nobility 
 of France. Your maternal grandfather, Louis Francoy de 
 Saint-Michel, was forester to Louis XVI. He was born 
 and bred in the most polished society, and familiar with the 
 splendors of the French Court, and the gayeties of the tuil- 
 eries, castles and forests — the homes and resorts of the 
 French Kings and nobility. At the commencement of the 
 French revolution, he felt compelled for his personal safety 
 
C THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 to flee from Franco, and with his only child, your mother, 
 ho came to Costorland, on the western border of the great 
 wilderness of Northern New York, where she in their soli- 
 tudes, attended to and performed the duties of his house- 
 hold, until I, also an exile from France, made her acquaint- 
 ance. We were soon after married, and removed to this 
 cottage, where you were born, and where she died. 
 
 Jose. I thank you for this brief account of my ancestors. 
 It will explain some vague impressions, that I have un- 
 doubtedly received in early life, but which I could not un- 
 derstand. Until I met Henry, I felt no interest in the soci- 
 ety of those around us; and now he, the object of my first 
 an i most devoted love, is about to leave us, and engage in 
 the hazards of an aggressive war, and I fear to return to us 
 no more forever. {Wiping away tears.] But here he comes, 
 with his Company. 
 
 [Enter ( ) in the distance, Henry and his Company: 
 
 mostly young men, and some boys— part with muskets — 
 part if ith canes and sticks as a substitute. They perform 
 various military evolutions, and finally march away. ( ) 
 End of scene.] 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene II. — Time, twilight. An island in the St. Law- 
 rence. Enter ( ) Josephine in her canoe; lands in a 
 cove on the island, with a basket of provisions. Cave in the 
 cliff, near by; sets down her basket and seats herself in an 
 arbor and soliloquizes. 
 
 Jose. I am getting weary ! Here is the cave I have visited 
 frequently ; and the last time father landed me here, I ex- 
 plored it for several hours. If I do not find Henry here, I 
 must give up the search in despair. 
 
 [Enter Henry with a musket ( ) and rushes to and 
 
 embraces Josephine and kisses her.] 
 
 Dearest Henry ! how happy I am to meet you. Since I 
 learned of the disaster to the Patriots, and of your escape, 
 I have been constantly searching among the islands to find 
 your retreat. I have found you at last ! 
 
 Westcott. I too, have been watching for you ; I have fre- 
 quently recalled your warning of danger and disaster, on 
 the eve of my departure. Your premonitions were correct. 
 The result was as you anticipated. I he enterprise has been 
 
THE CAMP (illoTNI), 7 
 
 & failure, f and three other companions and fugitives have 
 found a secure place oi concealment in the great cave up 
 there. [Pointing towards it. \ But I hav<> learned that these 
 islands are well guarded both by British and American 
 troops and agents, and that a large bounty has been offered 
 for our capture. 
 
 Jose, Yes, I have been fully advised of these facts. I an- 
 ticipated that you, after your escape, would find some place 
 of concealment among the numerous islands with which 
 you are so familiar. This cave I remembered as one afford- 
 ing peculiar advantages for concealment. I have explored 
 ft for hour&, and know it would be quite impossible for the 
 enemy to pursue you, when once within it, with any proba- 
 bility of your capture. It is a perfect labyrinth of rooms, 
 halls and passages; and abounds in covert places for con- 
 cealment. I knew you would labor under some difficulties- 
 In securing provisions, and expecting to find you, I have 
 brought with me a basket filled with food, and I shall take 
 pleasure hereafter in keeping you supplied, so long as you 
 may think it prudtat to remain here. 
 
 Westcott. O, how shall I ever repay you, dear Josephine, 
 for your kind regard and devotion? [Embraces and kisses 
 her.] 
 
 Jose. Your smiles and gratitude are a sufficient reward. 
 But would it not be best for you to make your escape to the 
 American shore, and seek some retreat, far from the scenes 
 of the recent conflict ? 
 
 Westcott. No, I apprehend that this is the safest place 
 for us at present. Besides the troops, large numbers of the 
 agents of both governments are watching for us. Then, 
 many others, stimulated by the large bounty offered for 
 our capture, would be ready to seize us, on the least sus- 
 picion. The popular feeling on the American side was, at 
 first, in our favor. But the failure has turned it against us. 
 A great reaction has taken place. Numerous public meet- 
 ings have been held, in which the movement, and the part- 
 ies engaged in it, have been denounced, and thousands that 
 would have rejoiced if we had been successful, and wel- 
 comed us with ovations in every village and city, would, 
 now that we have failed, be ready to strike us down like 
 wild animals. Thus it has ever been in all unsuccessful 
 rebellions and revolutions. But I anticipate a subsidence 
 of the excitement ; and I think we shall soon be able to re- 
 turn to our homes, and that I can soon not only visit you 
 at the cottage, but that we may be permitted to consum- 
 mate our marriage engagement, and enjoy that peaceful 
 domestic comfort we have so long anticipated. 
 
8 THE CAMP GROUND, 
 
 Jose. What were the immediate causes of the failure of 
 your enterprise ? 
 
 Westcott . They were numerous. Among them I might 
 •enumerate inefficiency of the leaders — the youth and inex- 
 perience of those that made up our forces — and in particu- 
 lar, the want of arms and proper equipment of our soldiers. 
 In consequence of these, our ranks were greatly thinned by 
 desertions, and on the approach of the veteran troops of the 
 enemy, at our rendezvous, our young and undisciplined 
 soldiers fled. Many of the officers remained, only to be 
 captured. I and my companions in the last extremity, 
 found a canoe resting against the bank, and with it reached 
 this hiding place, and have thus far succeeded in escaping 
 discovery. [Glances toward the mouth of the cave.] But 
 my companions are at the mouth of tho cave awaiting my 
 return. I ventured out to find some game for food. But 
 you have furnished a supply for all our present wants. 
 Follow me and I Mill lead you up to the entrance and make 
 you acquainted with my companions, who will feel equally 
 grjiteful for these supplies. 
 
 [Henry takes the basket, and they proceed towards the 
 entrance of the cave, where his companions are seen. End 
 of scene.] 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 Scene III. Room in the cottage of Louis MarsUe, as before^ 
 Early evening. Approaching tempest — lightning, thunder, 
 and winds. Louis M. soliloquizing. 
 
 Louis M. I must now summon my strength, and nerve 
 myself to inform Josephine of the capture and execution of 
 Henry, and his companions. But I fear the consequences. 
 Poor child ! What a shock it will give her. Henry seemed 
 to be a part of her life. Their two hearts were one. Under 
 the cover of night she has for many weeks borne to him 
 and his fugitive companions, the provisions necessary for 
 their subsistence, and to and from them messages of love. 
 She still continues, nightly, to pay her accustomed visits to 
 their hiding place, although she must have discovered their 
 absence. Yet she has said nothing of the disappointment 
 she must have experienced ; nor has she ever revealed the 
 place of their concealment. But here she comes. 
 
 [Enter Josephine ( ) with a basket well stored with 
 
 provisions in one hand, and an oar in the other, j 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. V) 
 
 Louis M. You do not think of visiting the island to-night, 
 any deal'? The howling winds without, the distant thunder, 
 and the appearance or the sky, foretell an unusual tempest, 
 I already hear the waves beating against the rocky shore. 
 Do not go on your trip to-night, and leave me alone. 
 
 Jose. O, I shall enjoy the trip. On such nights as this, 
 the winds make music as they sigh through the evergreens 
 on the various islands. They will make a grand oratorio 
 with the waters and the trees, and my little canoe will 
 dance and keep time to the music. It is the time for en- 
 joyment. There is variety and grandeur in it ! I have en- 
 joyed the placid serenity of the lake when it reflected the 
 twinkling stars, and T have enjoyed, also, the forked light- 
 ning, and the rolling thunder, and the music of the waves as 
 they dashed against the rock-bound islands and shores. The 
 h'ight in my window here, has often been the beacon to guide 
 me in my course, and the toils and perils I endure, are a 
 (source of joy to me, when I anticipate the smiles and grati- 
 tude of Henry. 
 
 Louis M. But. you have failed to receive his smiles for 
 some time; and still you make your visits to the cave. 
 
 Jose. [Aside] The cave ! How did he learn the place? 
 Then they have been discovered— perhaps captured. [Aloud] 
 You seem to know of my failure to meet Henry of late. 
 
 Louis M. Yes. He and his companions were captured 
 some time ago. But I did net have the courage to inform 
 you of it, much less of their execution. 
 
 Jose. Execution.! [Sinks upon her knees at her father's 
 feet weeping.] Then my light, my life, has gone out. Then 
 the blossoming buds of our happiness are forever blasted. 
 Oh, deceitful hope ! Thou phantom ! Thy charms have van- 
 ished! Thy wreaths and blossoms have withered! Oh, 
 Henry! Why did you not heed my warning.? My premoni- 
 tions have proved correct. But thou art with my sainted 
 mother, and I shall soon be with thee. My grief shall not 
 disturb thee now. Away selfish love I Dry up thou fount- 
 ain of the emotions ! Let my soul still be with thee in the 
 home of the blessed. [Rises and wipes away her tears.] 
 
 Louis M, I am pleased with this resolution. Nature still 
 has charms for us, and we may still en joy the richest treas- 
 ures which she here offers, as we have in the years gone by. 
 Bat tell me, why you have continued to visit the cave since 
 the capture of the fugitives, and what 7/011 did with the 
 provisions. 
 
 Jose. When I first failed to meet them, I supposed that 
 some circumstance had induced them to make a temporary 
 
10 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 Change of their hiding place. And afterwards when the 
 thought of their possible capture presented itself to my 
 mind, I banished it, and continued to cherish a hope of their 
 safety. The labors, anxieties, and disappointments, inten- 
 sified my love for Henry, and as usual I left the provisions 
 on the table-rock within the entrance, and rested for a time 
 on the rock outside, in meditation and prayer for his safety. 
 Tell me all you know relating to him. 
 
 Louis M. The large bounty offered for the capture of the 
 fugitives, induced many to search for them, and their place 
 of concealment was discovered. Of this, the Canadian au- 
 thorities were duly informed, and one night a squad of sol- 
 diers were placed around the mouth of the cave. Appre- 
 hending the difficulty of securing them within the cave, 
 they anxiously awaited their appearance without Early 
 one morning, the fugitives took a walk towards the river, 
 for the purpose of bathing, leaving their arms behind them. 
 A few soldiers' sprang to the entrance, and others closed in 
 on either side. There was no opportunity to escape and 
 fhey surrendered. They were takem to Kingston, nastily 
 tried, and — 
 
 Jose. Hold ! I would hear no more. I must again visit 
 the place where I last met Henry. He will surely be there 
 with me. The time is now most appropriate. I would go 
 in the storm and iJie tempest. The elements without cor- 
 respond with the raging emotions within me. [Takes up 
 the basket and oar and departs ( ) into the darkness 
 
 without,] 
 
 Louis M. Stay, my daughter, stay I Leave me not alone, 
 
 Jose. I cannot remain. I must meet Henry again. 
 
 [Thunder and lightning, a tempest with rain beats around 
 the cottage, Louis M, gazes in the direction of his (laugh* 
 ter. End of scene 3.} 
 
 ACT I, 
 
 Scene IV. Island in the St, Lawrence. Time, twilight. 
 Mouth of the cave as before, in the cliff. Louis M. ap- 
 proaches in a canoe; lands near by, and soliloquizes. 
 
 Louis M. [Sol.] It is now nearly twenty-four hours since 
 Jose departed. It is getting dark, and T must hasten to the 
 eave. If I do not find her there, I shall conclude that she 
 sank beneath the waves, in the tempest last night. Yet. 
 she was familiar with the currents, and: £So> *>ne was more 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 11 
 
 expert in the management of the canoe. For these fifteen 
 years, she has been accustomed to it, and these waters. 
 
 [Approaching the month of the cave, he observes Jose- 
 phine resting upon a table rock near its mouth, and leaning 
 against the perpendicular cliff.) Josephine! No answer. 
 Josephine 1 Speak to me once more. [Places h is hand upon 
 her upturned face.] Josephine! She is dead. [Sinks down 
 upon his knees at her side, and covering Jus face, weeps for 
 some time in silence.] 
 
 The last link that bound me to earth, is now broken. My 
 only child — friend — companion — is gone to the mansions of 
 the blessed, to be re-united with her sainted mother and 
 her beloved Henry, from whom cruel fate here separated 
 her. O, that I could have departed with her ! [JRises and 
 gazes at her in the tiriligJit.] She seems to be gazing still, 
 as if she expected some one. But her eyes are fixed up- 
 ward, as though her thoughts were in that direction. 
 [Feels of her garments.] Her garments are still wet with 
 the torrents of rain that beat upon her in the tempest last 
 nipht. The last of the noble family of Louis Fiancoy de 
 Saint-Michel, the companion in early life of nobles and 
 kings, has departed. O, affectionate, noble, devoted daugh- 
 ter ! Why did you leeive me here alone, in the world I 
 [Glances at the mouth of the cave.] But this cave was a 
 fitting place for her exit. It was associated with the object 
 of her most devoted love, and the most interesting events 
 of her later life. In its sdent labyrinths she had wandered 
 and the surrouding solitudes were the source of her great- 
 est pleasures. I will watch and meditate by her remains 
 until morning, where she has watched and prayed on many 
 a night — when the stars shone down upon her alone, and 
 also, when the sky was overcast with clouds. Upon this 
 very rock on which she expired, she has frequently sat and 
 listened to the music of the winds, as they sighed through 
 the evergreens, and here amidst these solitudes, and at the 
 mouth of this cave, will I deposit her mortal remains, and 
 here will I make frequent pilgrimages at the twilight hour, 
 and hold sweet communion with her spirit. And here may 
 I finally sleep my last sleep, on the same rock where she 
 expired. 
 
 [Falls upoyi his knees at the feet of Josephine's body, 
 and rests his head upon her lap. Illusion of the spirit form 
 of Josephine in the cave. End of act l.J 
 
12 THE CAMP GROUND-,. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene I. Laic-office of Slaughter &> Dolittle T New York. 
 Three rickety chairs, a few old bock:) and an old (able. 
 Dolittle at the g. Sign • -""Slaugh- 
 
 ter & Dolittle, Attorneys." Both in shabby dress, and past 
 middle age. Seedy shysters. Enter Slaughter ( ). 
 
 Slaughter, Dolittle ! our money and our business is about 
 played out. We must make a strike. Yankee enterprise 
 and genius must yet triumph in this great centre of wealth 
 and commerce. This glass of ale once a day for five cents., 
 and a square meal throwed in y won't work much longer. 
 We have bummed about in this way, until the saloon men 
 begin to indulge in sarcastic remarks. They have an eye 
 on the potatoe salad and oxtail soup. Besides this, our fam- 
 ilies must live. A dollar and a half a week is a pretty small 
 allowance for the three at home. 
 
 . Dolittle. I find that pretty small for two. But they man- 
 age to get through, with great economy. By the way, I 
 squeezed two dollars out ol the prisoner at the Police Court 
 y esterday ; the first in some time. 
 
 Slaughter. I was prompted yesterday to walk into the 
 Supreme Court, and noticed that nearly all the business be- 
 fore it related to injunctions. Injunctions is now the great, 
 I might say, almost the sole remedy, for an injury. It is 
 the only thing that pays a lawyer. In fact, there is no 
 other law, for a lawyer. It is the nomen generalissimum, 
 for all useful law. It is the Great Extraordinary equitable, 
 Remedy, with which fortunes are made. It is the great 
 panacea, that kills or cures; and it makes no difference to 
 the lawyer which way it goes. It is the remedy of the 
 money kings — the suple instrument of the bulls and the 
 bears — to restrain, and dissolve restraint. There's fortunes 
 in it. I have been inspired with an idea, and I have resolv- 
 ed to execute it. 
 
 Dolittle. What is the inspired idea? 
 
 Slaughter. To make Injunctions a Specialty. I am bound 
 to execute that thought, and it is bound to succeed. Our 
 fortunes, my old friend, [rising and slapping Dolittle on 
 the shoulder], are made. I have already engaged a suit of 
 rooms, first floor above basement, 1001 Pine, for the future 
 place of legal business, of Slaughter & Dolittle, and given 
 orders for a sign in large golden letters on the front win- 
 dow, "A. Dolittle, Solicitor, Judge Slaughter, of Counsel, 
 1001 Pine. Injunctions a specialty. " With barely a quarter 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 13 
 
 left, I have accomplished all this. To-morrow morning we 
 are to take possession, and during the day I pay a month's 
 rent. 
 
 Dolittle. You are taking large risks — you must be deran- 
 ged. We will be ruined. 
 
 Slaughter. Not at all. Our fortunes are already made. 
 This is my plan. Be at the office in the morning with the 
 cleanest shirt and best clothes you can muster. I will oc- 
 cupy the front, and will resume all the dignity I exhibited 
 while a magistrate down in Connecticut. You will occupy 
 the back room. We will arrange our few books to the best 
 advantage ; secure a work or two on injunctions ; put on 
 business airs; and mark my word, we shall have some good 
 customers during the business hours. My charges for 
 counsel must of course be large. Instead of a dollar or two 
 for defending a poor devil at the Police, they must be hun- 
 dreds, for a few minute's counsel. Everybody is suing out 
 injunctions against everybody else, and to enjoin every- 
 thing — railroads, insurance companies, managers of thea- 
 ters, publishers, joint stock companies, partners, judges, 
 courts, officers — to enjoin former injunctions; in short, there 
 is going on now, a war of injunctions. We will be ready 
 to act either on the aggressive or the defensive ; to enjoin 
 or to dissolve; and between the two warlike forces, we 
 shall stand a good chance. Let us take our books along, 
 and make immediate arrangements for the new field of ac- 
 tion. And remember our watchword, Injunctions a spe- 
 cialty. [Gather books under their arms and departing.} 
 
 Dolittle. I will remember, l A. Dolittle, Solicitor, Judge 
 Slaughter, of Counsel, 1001 Pine. Injunctions a specialty. 
 [Exeunt. End of scene.] 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene II. A plain living room, in the home of James 
 Brown, Chicago. Present, Mary Brown, his wife, and Ida, 
 his only daughter, 4 years old. Enter ( ) James 
 
 Brown, a young man. 
 
 James. Well, Mary, I have returned as usual, without 
 success. All building is suspended. My occupation has 
 gone from the city. 'Not one in fifty of the plumbers, can 
 nnd constant employment. This business was one of the 
 first to suffer by the hard times, and who can tell when it 
 will revive ? 
 
14 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 Mary. My dear James, have courage. The darkest night 
 precedes the brightest morn. When prosperity returns, we 
 shall enjoy it all the more, for the dark night of adversity, 
 through which we are passing. 
 
 James. We have struggled for a long time, with many 
 others in this city, to keep the wolf from the door. We 
 were more fortunate than most of those who depended upon 
 their labor for a maintenance, for we had a little of my in- 
 come laid aside, and it has served us well. We have learn- 
 ed, that with economy the bare necessaries of life cost but 
 little. But to that little sum we had, no additions have 
 been made for many months, and it is now nearly gone. 
 
 Here it is Mary, take it; [handing some money to her.} I 
 cannot use it for myself, whilst you and Ida may soon suf- 
 fer for the want of food. [Taking up and kissing Ida.} 
 
 Mary. Dear James, you are unusually despondent this 
 morning. You have been cheerful and hopeful most of the 
 time, through all the disappointments and defeats of the 
 many months you have been unemployed. 
 
 James. Yes, but my star of hope would have disappeared 
 long ago, had it not have been for your cheering words of 
 encouragement, and the happy and cheerful life of Ida. 
 When the mists began to gather around me and shut out 
 visions of better conditions in the future, you dispelled 
 them ; and when the dark clouds, without even a silver 
 edge, hung over both of us, little Ida's innocent and cheer- 
 ful and happy life, drove them away, and revived our 
 hopes. But the time has now come for me to act. I am 
 strong and healthy, and I will use no more of our little 
 means for my own sustenance. I will go forth from Chi- 
 cago, resolved to find something to do, and labor in any 
 honorable employment. 
 
 Mary. 0, James, why are you so excited? What has 
 occurred to make you sj rash? You will not leave us here 
 alone ? [ Weeping. } 
 
 James. I cannot be moved from my resolution. I must 
 leave my home, and you, my dearest Mary and my darling 
 Ida, to-day. I can endure the torture no longer. In this 
 broad land somewhere there ought to be employment for 
 strong and resolute men. And providence should favor 
 the son of one who laid down his life to maintain the insti- 
 tutions of the country. We are here verging upon the bor- 
 der line of actual want. You and Ida are helpless, I might 
 say, homeless. I am in the prime of life and vigorous man- 
 hood. 
 
 Mary. But still we have a home here. 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 15 
 
 James, A home! No. I have just boon served with a 
 Summons notifying me of proceedings in Court, to foreclose 
 tho mortgage on this home. 
 
 Mary. How is this? 
 
 James. You will remember I paid down only half of the 
 purchase money of this property, and for the balance and 
 interest annually, we executed a mortgage. For several 
 years I paid the interest promptly ; but for two years past 
 it has remained unpaid, and I cannot expect to make money 
 here to pay it. Hope, in this direction, has departed, I will 
 take some chances, and leave this city, seeking some op- 
 portunity to raise the amount required to save our home, 
 or failing in that, provide you and my little Ida, with tho 
 necessaries of life. At any rate, I shall be free from the re- 
 morseful thought, that I sat down with you to consume the; 
 last morsel of food, 
 
 Mary. [Approaching and embracing James.] O, my" 
 dearest James, what a cloud has come over us, shutting out 
 the last ray of light. We entered this home with joy and 
 gladness in our hearts. It is associated with all the most 
 interesting and happy incidents of our married life. Here, 
 Ida was born. Here, she has made us happy with her in- 
 nocent baby life, and her childish plays and prattle. [ Weep- 
 ing.] 
 
 James. O, cease these reminiscences, my dear, and try 
 and dry those tears, or they will unnerve me, I returned 
 home resolved, after mature reflection, to adopt the course 
 I have indicated. 
 
 Ida. Don't cry, mamma, taus Fs doing to tay wiv you, 
 Papa come back, won't you, papa? 
 
 Brown. [With his wife smiling through their tears.] O, 
 yes, my darling. 
 
 Ida. Fs doing to take tare mamma, won't I? 
 
 James. [Kissing Ida.] Yes; you must take care of mam- 
 ma, and talk to mamma, and not let mamma cry. Will 
 you, my darling? 
 
 Ida. O, yes. I'll talk to mam a, all de time. 
 
 Mary. Well James, perhaps your course is the wisest, I 
 will try and be contented. But you will not leave to-day ? 
 
 James. Yes, I must carry out my resolution while I am 
 in the spirit. A delay might prove fatal. I have told you 
 all. The worst is over, and the sooner I set out, the shorter 
 will be the sorrow. Anticipating the danger of a delay at 
 this time, I have supplied my small hand bag with a few 
 shirts, some meat left from yesterday's dinner, and half 
 
16 THE CAMP GfcOTTND. 
 
 the loaf of bread I found in the cupboard, and it is without 
 the door. Good by ! Good by ! [Embraces Mary and Ida-, 
 unci starts]. 
 
 Mary. Here, take this money. [Holding out the roll to 
 him.] 
 
 James. No! Never! 
 
 Mary. I insist that you take half of it. 
 
 James. Yon will be most in need ol it. 
 
 Mary. You must take the change. 
 
 James. "Well, I accept i fc as a token of your love. [ Takes it. ] 
 I am amply provided for present wants. As for the 
 future, I am fully equipped with strong arms and a reso- 
 lute will. [Exit, ( > waving adieus with his hand]. 
 
 Mary. Farewell, my dear, [Sinks on a chair, weeping]. 
 
 Ida. Goby, papa. Don't cry, mamma. Fse doing to talk 
 to you, mamma. Fse doing to be a dood little giri, mam- 
 ma. [Mary takes up Ida, presses her to her bosom and hiss- 
 es her. End of scene. J 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene III. New Law office (2 rooms) of Slaughter & Do- 
 little. Slaughter in front room — Dolittle in the back one at 
 table, writing; with, high standing shirt collars and impro- 
 ved general appearance. Sign in large letters, ll A. Dolittle 
 Solicitor, Judge Slaughter, of Counsel. Injunctions a sjje- 
 vi ally," conspicuous. In large printed letters over a case 
 filled with papers, ''Injunction Papers." And over a similar 
 case, filled with papers, in large printed letters, "Motions 
 to Dissolve." Enter Goodday, Manager of a theatre in New 
 York, ( ). 
 
 Good. Judge Slaughter, I presume ? 
 
 Slaughter. I bear that humble title. 
 
 Good. You do an injunction business, I notice? 
 
 Slaughter. Yes. Injunctions a specialty. It is the only 
 Successful remedy known to the modern law. There is in 
 fact but little other law of practical importance. All else 
 is obsolete. It is the great extraordinary remedy for every- 
 body, under all circumstances. 
 
 Good. I am the manager of a theatre here, and purchased 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 17 
 
 6f the translator a French drama, which we are playing 
 with great success. Another manager is about to put the 
 same play on the stage. Have ! any remedy? 
 
 Slaughter. Nothing is plainer. Injunction is the sole rem- 
 edy. It stops him and you play on. That is all you want. 
 We use it constantly in such cases. 
 
 Good. Then I want an injunction at once. 
 
 Slaughter. Mr. Dolittle, the Solicitor in this office, is in 
 the other room. He will prepare the papers. The com- 
 plaint must be sworn to, and a bond executed. Mr. Dolit- 
 tle! [Enter Dolittle.] Another injunction is wanted by 
 the manager of one of our leading theatres. Prepare the 
 papers, and fix the bond, say $5000. 
 
 Dolittle. I will feave the papers ready by 2 P. m. Call at 
 2, and all will be ready. [Dolittle retires to back room.] 
 
 Good, Shall I settle your fee now? 
 
 Slaughter. You might pay a small retainer as Counsel, 
 -say five hundred. 
 
 6rood [Taking out his pocket book] Here it is. [Handing 
 the money to Slaughter. Exit Manager { ). Enter 
 
 Dumont ( ) ]. 
 
 Dumont. Your practice is especially directed to injunc- 
 tions, Judge? 
 
 Slaughter. We have formally years, had but little else 
 to do. It is the Great Extraordinary Remedy. It is the 
 magna charta — the magnum bonum. Perfection in the 
 law can only be attained by exclusive attention to a par- 
 ticular branch. We assume to have attained that perfec- 
 tion in the use of the Great Extraordinary Equitable Rem- 
 edy of Injunction. It is the right arm of the Court to do 
 justice. 
 
 Dumont. You are just the party I want at this time* 
 Justice is what I require. My interests are threatened, and 
 I must have the help of this right arm. I am a stockholder 
 and director in the Novelty Life and Fire Insurance Com- 
 pany. The president and a majority of the directors, are 
 about to dispose of its stock and funds to the amount of 
 $50,000 for the stock of a narrow guage railroad company 
 in Colorado. Can I prevent this misappropriation of its 
 stock and funds? 
 
 Slaughter. The Great Extraordinary Equitable Remedy 
 of Injunction, was invented for this very purpose. It is the 
 Great Palladium of our financial rights and liberties. It is 
 more than constitutions for it overrides constitutions P 
 
18 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 is grounded in fundamental principles. It is, in short, the 
 Magna Charta, which we inherited. 
 
 Dumont. That's my remedy. Will you attend to it? 
 
 Slaughter. Mr. Dolittle, as Solicitor, prepares the papers. 
 I am of Counsel in injunction cases. Walk into the other 
 room and he will prepare the proper papers for the Great 
 Extraordinary Remedy. 
 
 Dumont. Your fee as Counsel? 
 
 Slaughter. You may advance now, five hundred, if con- 
 venient. 
 
 Dumont. I must give you my check. I have a blank 
 here. [Fills out the check and hands to Slaughter.} 
 
 Slaughter. All right, Mr. Dumont. Call again when you 
 want your rights protected. [Exit Dumont ( ) and 
 
 enter Hansome ( ). 
 
 Hansome. I have come all the way from Texas, to secure 
 a lawyer, to prevent the meeting of the stockholders of the 
 Houston and Santa Fee Railroad Company, called by the 
 directors to meet in this city to-morrow. A great outrage 
 is attempted to be perpetrated on the stockholders, and I 
 have been duly authorized by many of them to prevent this 
 meeting. I notice you make injunctions a specialty, and I 
 suppose that is the remedy for me, and those I represent. 
 
 Slaughter. Your instincts are correct, my friend. It is 
 the Great Sovereign Remedy — the Great Extraordinary 
 Writ that prevents such outrages. It cannot be disobeyed 
 while the government lasts, and it is our specialty. We 
 have done but little else for many years. The office 1001 
 Pine, is perfecting the practice of this strong right arm ol 
 our courts of equity. Shall the proper papers be prepared? 
 
 Hansome. Yes, immediately. 
 
 Slaughter. Mr. Dolittle, in the next room, is the Solicitor. 
 He will draft the necessary papers. I am of Counsel, in 
 the business of the office. And our business is increasing 
 so rapidly we must secure a large clerical force. 
 
 Hansome. I have a son with me, who wants to enter r 
 law office, and a companion of his would like a situatioi 
 with him. Could they secure a place here? 
 
 Slaughter. Can they write well ? 
 
 Hansome. Both are good penmen. 
 
 Slaughter. By all means get them a place where Injunc 
 tions are a specialty. Nothing more is required. In si: 
 months here, they can do business as well as I can. The> 
 can enter upon practice immediately, and their fortunes 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 19 
 
 are made. The law of injunctions is all that is necessary, 
 and that can be learned in no other way than in an office 
 where it is a specialty. The Great Extraordinary Remedy 
 is just beginning to assume its original proportions, as mag- 
 num bonum — the palladium of our rights, for the enforce- 
 ment of equitable principles. 
 
 Hansome, What would be your terms, Judge? 
 
 Slaughter. Our terms may seem to an outsider rather 
 hard ; but when it is considered that a fortune is secure, it 
 will appear otherwise. The young men would be required 
 to write for us, and pay the sum of one thousand dollars 
 on taking seats in the office, and one thousand dollars at 
 the end of six months. This sum would easily be made by 
 them in a day or two, after they leave the office. 
 
 Hansome. I have not arranged your fee as Counsel? 
 
 Slaughter. You may hand me a retainer of a thousand, 
 if convenient. 
 
 Hansome. [Taking out his pocket book]. Here are two 
 notes for the amount. [Handing them to him]. 
 
 Slaughter. You see how easy it is to make money in a 
 specialty on injunctions. The young men can in a day or 
 two reimburse the money advanced to us. 
 
 Hansome. True. I must see them ; and perhaps they will 
 take seats in your office to-morrow. Good day ! 
 
 Slaughter. Good day! [Exit Hansome ( ) ]. 
 
 Slaughter. Dolittle ! What do you think, now, of Injunc- 
 tions a Specialty ! 
 
 [Dolittle appearing]. 
 
 Dolittle. It seems to work well to-day. 
 
 Slaughter. It will work well to-day, and to-morrow, and 
 every day. We have just mounted the wave of success, 
 which is sure to bear us on to fortune. To-morrow we 
 must have some help. I think we will take several stu- 
 dents to assist us. I must now order a carriage, call and 
 pay the rent, and go to the bosom of my family. For the 
 first time in several years, I have ample means to supply 
 them with a good dinner. Secure a few more chairs in the 
 morning, and some tables, and come to business early. 
 Remember Injunctions a Specialty, with $2000 as the fees 
 of your humble servant, Judge Slaughter, of Counsel, for 
 the first day's business. [Exit S. ( ). End of Scene]. 
 
20 THE CAMP GROUND, 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Sce::e IV. A lone tree on the summit of a Mil on a prairie 
 in Wisconsin. James Broivn assisting Thornton, a feeble 
 fellow traveler, aged about 35 years, to walk. 
 
 James. We shall soon arrive at the lone tree, and then 
 we will have a fine view of the surrounding country. Have 
 courage, my friend. You will have a good rest there. 
 
 Thornton. I wish that I could have a final rest there. 
 Life is becoming a burden to me, and. death would be wel- 
 come. I have slept but little for nearly a week, ' This sleep- 
 ing in the open air, without any covering, is hard on me in 
 my present condition. And last night, you know, I got 
 but a nap or two. 
 
 James. You had a hard time last night. I thought at one 
 time you were quite gone. 
 
 Thornton. I wish I had quite gone. It would have been 
 a happy exit. Certainly this body cannot stand it long in 
 this way. Nor do I desire that it should. 
 
 James. Well, here we are at last. Sit down, now and 
 rest against this tree, and perhaps you may get some sleep. 
 Here is some of the hazel nuts and wheat, that remained 
 after dinner, and here is some water in the bottle. [Reach- 
 ing them towards Thornton. Thornton sits down and leans 
 against the tree.] 
 
 Thornton. I don't care for anything to eat now. I need 
 rest and sleep more. You eat what you want. There will 
 still be enough left for me. I shall need no food to-night. 
 
 James. The stars are shining brightly. It will be cool be- 
 fore morning for you, but I shall get along well enough. 
 The nights in this latitude, and at this season, are short. 
 This will be one comfort. Try and sleep a little, while I 
 take a lunch. [Eats in silence. Thornton falls asleep — 
 strangles, coughs and awakes. James raises him up.] 
 
 Thornton. I thought I would never get my breath again. 
 But I am here yet. 
 
 James. You are growing cold. Let me wrap my coat 
 around you. [Takes off his coat and places it over Thorn- 
 ton.] I shall not need it. 
 
 Thornton. Nor shall I, long. 
 
 James. Did your father die of asthma? 
 
 Thornton. Yes, when I was a boy. 
 
 James. And your mother is also dead ? 
 
 Thornton. Yes. No ! She still lives in a higher sphere. 
 She has risen from the dead. [In a whisper— Gazing at the 
 North Star.] 
 
Til. JROUND. 21 
 
 There is the Great Dipper, and the North Star. When 
 a child and I sat upon my mother's lap in the old porch, 
 she pointed them out to me. She said the North Star was 
 always true, and a good symbol of what a life should be, 
 and hoped that I would always ba good and true. I have 
 endeavored to live such a lite, and to follow her advice* 
 But I must leave you to-night, my L iend, here on this lone 
 prairie. Be cheerful, and press forward towards the North 
 and you will succeed; you will soon meet your reward. 
 [Sinks back , supported by James.] She is here. She has 
 come for me. [illusion of a spirit mother near Thornton.] 
 
 James. Who has come for you J 
 
 Thornton. Mother! [Sinks dying on the ground]. 
 
 James. He is dying. [Feels his pulse.] It has ceased to 
 beat. He is dead! [Sits by Thornton weeping in silence 
 for some time. Looks up at the stars.] 
 
 The stars that shone upon him, while an infant in his 
 mother's lap, now coldly shine upon his dead body. But 
 how sweet the compensation of such an exit ! That mother 
 seemed to be here to receive him. His last mortal thoughts 
 were of her, and his first immortal recognition was of her 
 angelic form. How sweet is such a devotion. How com 
 for ting to die in the belief, that a loving, departed mother 
 is waiting for us on the other shore. [Silent for a time as 
 he gazes upon the body of Thornton. Looking around.] 
 
 Twilight is appearing in the east. What shall Ido J 
 I am a stranger here. Thornton was unknown, and he is 
 dead. Perhaps I may be suspected of some foul play in 
 connection with his death. But I will not abandon his 
 dead body. I was faithful to him during the last few days 
 of his mortal life, and I will do my duty now, let come what 
 will come. I hear the sound of an approaching team. 
 [Looks in the direction.] Yes, there are two men in a wag- 
 on. I will go down by the road-side, and inform them what 
 has occurred, and secure their services in removing the 
 body. [Exit James ( ). Re-enters with tiro citizens — 
 
 farmers. ( ) ] 
 
 1 Cit. You're tramps, wern't you? We don't go much on 
 tramps here. I dogged off one yesterday. [Looking at 
 James and then at the corpse.] 
 
 2 Cit. Looks like some foul play. 
 
 1 Cit. Guess we'll have a inquest in this matter. 
 
 2 Cit. The best way is for you, stranger, to get in the 
 wagon with us, and go to town, and see the Coroner. [Look- 
 ing at the corpse.] He won't spile while we're gone. 
 
22 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 1 Cit. Its only a short distance, and we won't be gone 
 long. It aint right any way to touch a body, until the Cor- 
 oner conies. So jump in. 
 
 James. I have no objection to going with you. [Aside], 
 I need some food and rest, and perhaps here is an opportu- 
 nity to get both. [Exeunt. End of scene.] 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene V. Lair office of Slaughter & Dolittle, supplied 
 with chairs, writing tables, and three students writing. S. 
 & D. sitting at tables, writing. Toilets somewhat improved. 
 Enter Goodday. the manager ( ). 
 
 Goodday. Good morning, Judge. The injunction was 
 dissolved this morning, and the^ will go on with the play 
 unless they are again enjoined. 
 
 Slaughter. Yes, Mr. Dolittle has informed me of the dis- 
 solution. There was a slight inadvertence in drafting the 
 papers. That can be corrected, and another injunction 
 issued and served. 
 
 Goodday. Let this be attended to, or they will go on with 
 the play to-night. [Enter Dolittle ( ) ] 
 
 Dolittle. I will see to it. [Exit Good ( ) ]. 
 
 Slaughter. [To Dolittle.] Be careful and get enough in 
 the papers this time. Whatever is required, put in. These 
 men that seek injunctions, generally swear to anything 
 that is written by an attorney. [Exit Dolittle ( ) En- 
 
 ter De Lanier e ( ) ]. 
 
 DeLaniere. Your special practice is injunctions? 
 
 Slaughter. It is our specialty. I merely act as Counsel 
 in the office. 
 
 De L. I think that is what I want. I was about to put 
 on the stage here, a play translated from the French, and 
 for which I have paid the translator. The manager of a 
 rival theatre, enjoined me yesterday from using it. The 
 injunction was dissolved this morning, on account of some 
 defect in the papers, and it is now proposed to amend the 
 papers and procure another injunction. I desire, to present 
 it to-night, and I want your counsel in the matter. 
 
 5 Are you an American citizen ? 
 
 DeL No. I am a Frenchman. 
 
 6 What is the value of the performance to you to- 
 night ( 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 2l> 
 
 DeL Not less than a thousand dollars. 
 
 S I think I could manage to enable you to go on with 
 
 it to-night. 
 
 DeL Do so, and I will pay you half the sum anticipa- 
 ted. 
 
 S I have some printed forms for the transfer of caus- 
 es from the State to the Federal Courts, on the ground of 
 the alienage of the defendant. I will fill up the blanks — 
 [takes up a form and writes] — and you can sign and swear 
 to the facts set forth. On it I will before another injunc- 
 tion is issued, apply for a transfer of the cause. If it is re- 
 fused by the stupid ass. that now occupies the bench, which 
 is quite probable, then you can go on with the play even in 
 the face of any injunction, as the Court would have no ju- 
 risdiction to Ki'ant it. On the other hand, if he should 
 transfer the cause, there would be no opportunity to secure 
 an injunction from the Federal Court to-day, and you, of 
 course, could go on with the play. Here is the petition ; sign 
 it, and step into the next door below and make oath to it 
 before the Commissioner. 
 
 [Signs and goes out with the petition. Returns and hands 
 it to Slaughter.] That will do. I will see to it. 
 
 DeL Here is a check for the fee. 
 
 S Thank you; when the case is once in the Federal 
 
 Court, that will probably be the last of it. There will be 
 delay — parties and witnesses will be gone— and the case 
 finally dismissed for want of prosecution. Out of many 
 such cases we have had, this was the result. But there 
 will be a remedy for all damages you have sustained, inclu- 
 ding my fee, on the bond of the plaintiff. We will recover 
 a nice sum, to divide, on that. 
 
 DeL You are my injunction lawyer. Loss last night 
 
 $1000. [Exit DeL ( ) ]. 
 
 S [Sol.] There's five hundred more, which added to 
 
 the $3000, on initiation of the students, makes $3500 to-day. 
 So much this morning, for the Great Extraordinary Pro- 
 cess. So much for Injunctions a Specialty. Dolittle ! [Do- 
 little appears from the rear office]. I think I can afford to 
 take you to the Astor for a lunch to-day Take a few cards 
 along and advertise, 1001 Pine, Injunctions a Specialty. 
 
 D [Picks up cards.] All right. No five cent ode, and 
 
 lunch thro wed in, to-day. [Exeunt ( ) ]. 
 
24 THE CAMP GROUND, 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene VL Court Room of a justice. Present, Justice 
 Scroggs; Squills, a prosecuting attorney; James Brown; 
 Antony, the jailor, and numerous citizens. 
 
 Squills. I have the honor of informing the Court, that 
 the Coroner, holding the inquest on the body found at the 
 Lone Tree, under circumstances of suspicion, has had the 
 honor to report to me as the legal officer of the county, that 
 the jury, after a protracted investigation of three days, 
 having listened to the examination of fifty-one witnesses, 
 fifteen of whom were respectable and prominent members 
 of the medical profession, and all of whom have a large and 
 extensive practice in the community where they reside, 
 were at first about equally divided in ther opinion as to the 
 cause of the death. Although agreeing upon the fact of 
 suffocation, they were in extreme doubt as to the cause of 
 the suffocation, whether external or internal. This being 
 the main point in controversy, as I gather it from the elab- 
 orate report of the coroner, which I have the honor to hold 
 in my hand, or rather I should say in both hands, and 
 which contains not only the voluminous report, but the 
 testimony of the fifty-one witnesses examined as aforesaid, 
 each separate and apart, to prevent collusion, especially 
 between the doctors. In the beginning of the inquiry, the 
 majority seemed to favor a report adverse to the party 
 justly suspected. But before their deliberations closed, it 
 seemed that a majority were in doubt as to his guilt or in- 
 nocence, and in the end, it was resolved by a bare majority 
 that the accused should have the benefit of that doubt, and 
 the Coroner has so reported. I therefore move this honor- 
 able Court, to dismiss the charge of murder, made against 
 this prisoner, or in legal language enter a not pros. 
 
 Sc7*oggs. I think your course, Mr. Squills, eminently ju- 
 dicial, and will make the entry. But it seems to me due to 
 the majesty of the law, as administered by her magistrates, 
 that this defendant be held for another offense against the 
 statute and the peace and dignity of the State. I mean the 
 crime of tramping. This statute is too often violated, and 
 makes the person so offending a vagrant. 
 
 Squills. Anticipating your action, I have had the honor 
 to file an information against him for a breach of the stat- 
 ute against tramps and vagi-ants, and we are ready to pro- 
 ceed to an examination on that serious charge. 
 
 Scroggs. Read the information. 
 
 Squills. The information charges: [Heads] 'That James 
 Brown did on divers days between the LOth and 15th days 
 
THE UAMP GfcOtJND. '25 
 
 of Juno, commit the crime of vagrancy, by tramping, in 
 violation of the statute in such case made and provided, 
 and against the peace and dignity of the State. 1 This is 
 •duly sworn to. 
 
 Scroggs. What has the prisoner to say to this charge? 
 
 James. I don't know what constitutes the crime of tramp- 
 ing. 
 
 Scroygs.. It becomes my duty under such circumstances 
 "to enter a plea of not guilty. I>o you desire to get counsel? 
 
 James, I have none, nor any money to pay one. Besides 
 I don't know that I want one. 
 
 Scroggs. Are you ready for trial? 
 
 James. Just as ready as I ever shall be. 
 
 Scroggs. Then call your witnesses, Mr. Squills, and let 
 them be sworn* 
 
 Squills. Mr. Antony, come forward and be sworn. [An- 
 tony comes out of the crowd], 
 
 Scroggs. Hold up your hand, Mr. Antony. [A. holds up 
 his outstretched right hand.] You do swear that the evi- 
 dence you shall give in this case shall be the truth, the 
 whole truth, and nothing but the truth. So help you God. 
 [Repeated rapidly. Hand goes down]. 
 
 Attorney. State whether you are acquainted with the 
 prisoner at the bar— how you became acquainted with hum 
 ?md what he has told you in relation to his tramping in. 
 Wisconsin. 
 
 Antony. I am keeper of the county jail. Several days 
 ago Constable Pike brought the prisoner there for commit- 
 ment. He has ever since been there, until I brought hint 
 before this Honorable Court. Ho told me he came from Chi- 
 cago; that he started Avestward on foot ; that he finally chan- 
 ged his course towards the North Star; that on the way he 
 Ml in with the man who was found dead at the lone tree; 
 that they were both on their way to the pineries ; that they 
 were out of employment and money ; and that they were 
 trying to find some employment. 
 
 Squills. That will do, Mr. Antony. 
 
 Scroggs. Does the prisoner desire to crosc-examine the 
 witness? 
 James. No. He has told only the truth. 
 Squills. We rest our case. 
 Scroggs. Has the prisoner any witnesses? 
 James. Nut any. 
 
2Q THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 Scroggs. If you desire to make any statement of facts re- 
 lating to this case, you can do so ; for, although the state- 
 ment cannot be received by this Court, as of equal veracity 
 with that of a person not under the charge of an offense 
 against the peace and dignity of the State, still it might * 
 serve to ameliorate the condition of the punishment. This? 
 honorable Court will duly consider your claims to mercy. 
 
 Brown. I will briefly say, that I left Chicago several days 
 ago, in search of honorable employment ; that 1 have been 
 traveling in Wisconsin on foot several clays, without money 
 but in search for something to do : that on the way I fell in 
 with the man who died at the Lone Tree; and that we were 
 on our way northward to the Pineries to find employment 
 there. If these acts are a violation of the laws of this State, 
 I am guilty. 
 
 Scroggs. Mr. Squills, do you desire to make an argument 
 in the case? 
 
 Squills. Please your honor, I do. The frequency and mag- 
 nitude of the offence, requires extraordinary vigilence and 
 efforts upon the part of the legeil and judicial officers of our 
 proud Badger State. 
 
 gcroggs. Proceed then, with your argument, 
 
 Squills. May it please the honorable Court : The statute 
 under which the prisoner has been arraigned, and must be 
 convicted, if justice is done to the yeomanry of the old 
 Badger State, I will proceed to read ; and then to expound 
 the same according to the best of my legal abilities. 
 [Reacts from the Code.'} 
 
 "All persons who, not having any visible means to main- 
 tain themselves, live without employment; all persons 
 wandering abroad and lodging in sheds or barns, or in the 
 open air; and all persons wandering abroad and begging 
 for food or raiment, shall be deemed vagrants and nuisances 
 generally, and be punished by imprisonment in the county 
 jail, for a term not exceeding ninety days/ 1 
 
 In expounding this statute, I first inquire, is the prisoner 
 at the bar a person? I appeal to this honorable Court, is 
 this prisoner a person? I appeal to these my fellow citizens 
 and constituents, is this tramp a. person:' I answer, yes ! 
 You by your silence say, yes I [Applause.] 
 
 Again, has he visible means of support? I again appeal 
 to this honorable Court; I again appeal to these yeomen, of 
 our prairies; and in the language of scripture — to friends r 
 countrymen, and lovers — has this man visble means of sup- 
 port? I answer, No! You bv your silence, say No! Echo 
 
 " rs, No! 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 27 
 
 Again, did ho wander abroad and lodge in sheds, or barns 
 or in the open air? He admits that he wandered from Chi- 
 cago, that pestiferous sink of iniquity; from the slums and 
 cespools of that modern Babylon, that vomits forth its scum 
 to infect and taint the fair homes of my worthy constitu- 
 ents, polluting oven the sheds and barns of the sons of toil, 
 and devouring, in the languge of scripture, the substance 
 of the thrifty. 
 
 The open air of the country, is for the countrymen, and 
 their families; and these Wandering Arabs, from that proud 
 city, that prowl over the fair face of the Badger State, 
 should be tuught, in the language of scripture, that the way 
 of the transgressor is hard, saith the Lord of hosts. He 
 hath uttered a malediction, thou shalt not suffer a witch to 
 live. But what are witches? Yes, I repeat it, what are 
 witches, compared with — with tramps, that roam about 
 the country, seeking whom they may devour? I appeal to 
 your honor, I appeal to my constituents, many of whom 
 are present — I appeal to you all, for an answer to the im- 
 portant question, what are witches compared with tramps ? 
 On this question the case turns. On the answer the case 
 hinges. I see your answer in your sleek faces — in your 
 sparkling eyes— in those briny tears — in the anxiety paint- 
 ed on those beaming countenances — which say clearly, the 
 case is in favor of witches. And I abjure the honorable Court, 
 to consider well the important judicial function it has to 
 perform, in stemming the tide of this invasion of our homes 
 and our firesides — of protecting the fair ensign of our State 
 and our libert}^— of preserving from the foul hands of the 
 invader, the fair form of the badger that guards the shield 
 of our State. 
 
 Lastly, the prisoner should suffer the extreme penalty of 
 the law. He has wickedly, meliciously, and with malice 
 prepense, feloniously, within the true intent and meaning of 
 the statute, violated its fair pages, where it shines as a star 
 of the first magnitude, in our great catacomb of legal lore. 
 Shall he be suffered to violate a stutute of the Badger State 
 with immunity? I appeal to you again, friends, country- 
 men and lovers, shall he be permitted to sleep in the open 
 air with impunity ? I say, No ! You, by your silence, say 
 No! Echo in response, answers No ! [Applause.] 
 
 Scroggs. What has the prisoner to reply? 
 
 James. I can say nothing more than I have already said. 
 
 Scroggs. The offence in the opinion of the Court, is of the 
 most heinous character ; and has rather been aggravated 
 than mitigated by the remarks of the prisoner. For he ad- 
 mits that he had no visible means of employment or sup- 
 
28 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 port, and that he wandered abroad, and was without money r 
 and of course he had to sleep in sheds or barns or in the 
 open air. Now this, under the statute law of the Badger 
 State, is a serious offense ; and I feel it my duty to inflict 
 the full penalty of the law. The prisoner will therefore be 
 confined in the county jail for ninety days. I will prepare 
 the mittimus. [Writes it.] Here take this, [handing the 
 paper to Antony] and the prisoner back to jaiL 
 
 [Exit Antony ( ) with James, weepmg]. 
 
 Squills. It remains for the Court to fix the fees to be 
 paid the prosecutor for his diligence and skillful manage- 
 ment of this case, and his able efforts in behalf of the Badg- 
 er State. 
 
 Scroggs. I think the law fixes that at $5.00. 
 
 Squills. But that sum is trifling, for all my able efforts 
 to convict the guilty. You are aware of the ability with 
 which I have performed my duty. The law says nothing 
 against perquisites. 
 
 Scroggs. True — Perquisites I Yes, I see. You should have 
 perquisites, of course. Wbat shall we include? 
 
 Squills. Why, pen, ink, paper, and penknives. 
 
 Scroggs. True. Make the items as full as possible. I al- 
 low $25; and will certify the amount; and you will receive 
 this of the County Treasurer. [Exeurrt { ) End of scene.] 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene VII. Law office of Slaughter & Dolitile. S. & D. 
 find twelve young men seated at tables, writing. Toiletts of 
 S. & D. improved. 
 
 Slaughter. Young men, you now have the best possible 
 advantages to make your fortunes. Stick to injunctions 
 as a specialty, and you are millionaires. As a specialty,, 
 the law is easily acquired. The practice can only be ac- 
 quired in the Courts of New York. No one can acquire it 
 otherwise. Remember, it is the right arm of justice, as she 
 sits enthroned upon the Bench. Let your studies, when 
 not employed copying or drafting papers, be confined to 
 this Great Extraordinary Writ— the palladium — the Magna 
 Charta, which we inherited— I may add, the Magnum Bo- 
 num. I trust my example will bo worthy of your imitation, 
 when you shall have graduated here. You will then at 
 once enter upon a lucrative practice. I am expecting a 
 party soon to consult with me upon an important matter. 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 21* 
 
 It would be well for you to observe, how the important 
 business of a counsellor, is conducted. 
 
 [Enter Wing, a Broker ( ) ]. 
 
 Wing. Have I detained you ? 
 
 S Not long. I must go to Court soon. 
 
 W Then to business. You see this large sum, I spoke 
 
 of, is now held by the Ramshorn Company ; but the amount 
 will, if not enjoined, soon be paid over to the Hudson and 
 Wilderness Road, by the officers of the former, in the disr 
 charge of a plain duty. 
 
 S Injunction is the remedy. It is the specific in all 
 
 such cases. 
 
 W- If paid , it will swell the dividends of the latter, 
 
 now about to be made, and up goes the stock. This would 
 lift the bulls. We want to bear it a few days, and pick it 
 up, then we'll change to bulls. You see ? 
 
 S Yes, I see what is required. The Great Extraor- 
 dinary Remedy was first created by the High Court of 
 Chancery, expressly for this purpose. It is the Universal — 
 the only remedy in such cases. You need an astringent. 
 You find it in the great specialty. 
 
 W Let the papers then be prepared at once. Here 
 
 are some Ramshorn bonds, 25.000. [Handing them to S.\ 
 If you succeed the stock goes up, as the money held Avill he 
 counted funds on hand. Then sell, and invest in Hudson 
 and Wilderness, while beared. Then let loose on the in- 
 junction — let the money be paid over, and up goes Hudson 
 and Wilderness, and you haue a fortune. Here is a little 
 more of the Ramshorn, which you can take and place where 
 it will do the most good. 
 
 S I think I can make good use of it. I am under 
 
 some obligations to Judge Codos, to whom I usually apply 
 for my injunctions. He made some advances to me some 
 time ago, under circumstances which it would be quite ir- 
 relevant to relate at this time. I should like to cancel the 
 obligation and I presume I could do so with these bonds. 
 His interest will then be identical with ours; which of 
 course he will not discover. The injunction restraining the 
 payment must be granted, unless in the meantime, the 
 Hudson and Wilderness, secures an injunction restraining 
 Judge Codos from acting, which is a practice quite common 
 here. The fact is the right arm of equity is a very suple 
 member, and can be used to secure almost anything. The 
 functions of the original writ, have been greatly extended, 
 and our firm has been largely < oncerncd in accomplishing 
 this result. 
 
SO THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 W . Our house has some interest in one of the western 
 
 roads that is in peril, and wo have been considering the 
 subject of employing you to go there and counsel our local 
 attorney, in reference to the matter. An injunction is 
 probably our proper remedy. 
 
 S Very likely! Very likely! Ninety-nine times out 
 
 of a hundred it is the only effectual one. But it must be 
 applied in season or its virtue may be lost. Diligence and 
 promptness is wisdom. I say with all candor be prompt ! 
 We now have four draughtsmen and copyists, engaged in 
 preparing papers and orders to forestall the action of courts, 
 in the use of this Great Extraordinary remedy ; or rather I 
 should say of improperly using it, to the prejudice of our 
 clients. It requires much tact and skill, I can assure 
 you, to frame orders so as to prevent evasion and apparent 
 infringement of the judicial prowess of courts of co-ordi- 
 nate jurisdiction. 
 
 W I will see you again on this subject soon. [Exit 
 
 W.( )] 
 
 Slaughter. Dolittle! [D. appears.} A thought has struck 
 me. Another inspiration has been received. Another idea 
 has been conceived. We must prepare a treatise on in- 
 junctions. We now have plenty of help. I can prepare 
 the headings of each chapter, and some paragraphs for the 
 text. These students with the aid of text books, and di- 
 gests, can do the balance. With these aids, and a pair of 
 shears and a pot of mucilage, we can have the treatise 
 ready in three or four days. Cut from the books what 
 may be required, for text or notes, and insert it in the 
 proper place. This is the way modern law books are made. 
 In this way our firm will be extensively advertised. As 
 an advertisement, it would be a stroke of policy, and im- 
 mortal honor would be secured, But pecuniary grain from 
 the sale, must not be considered. The best books are worth 
 but little, and publishers pay accordingly. But once pub- 
 lished and we have ascended the Mount of Glory. 
 
 Dolittle. A capital idea. To see the name of Slaughter 
 & Dolittle, in gold letters on the back of a treatise on ' 'In- 
 junctions a Specialty," and in the library of every lawyer 
 in the land, would crown our success. Then think of re- 
 ceiving nattering notices from the legal journals, and the 
 judges on the Bench. This would certainly be a sufficient 
 reward for four days labor. 
 
 Slaughter. Secure then, the digests, paper, and mucilage, 
 and set the students at the work. 
 and a few paragraphs, for each chapter, 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 31 
 
 Dolittle. I will do so. [Exit D ( ) ]. Slaughter writes. 
 Dolittle returns with the articles. 
 
 $ Have you secured the articles for tbe treatise? 
 
 D Yes, they are ready. 
 
 S I have a few paragraphs for each chapter, ready. 
 
 Here they are. Set the young men to copying, cutting and 
 pasting. You mark the parts of the digests to be used, and 
 indicate whether in the text or notes. It will be an excel- 
 lent discipline for them, and bring glory to 1001 Pine, In- 
 junctions a specialty. Young men! be diligent and faith- 
 ful, and not only fortune, but glory is the reward. You 
 will all receive a flattering notice in the introduction to this 
 great work. Now to work ! 
 
 [D. proceeds to mark digests and the young students to 
 
 copy, cut, and paste, with great rapidity. Enter Wing. 
 ( )]• 
 
 W You have a large force at work, I notice, Your 
 
 practice must be large, Judge? 
 
 S — — Our trade mark. " Injunctions a Specialty," gives 
 us more than we can attend to. Large business — large ca- 
 ses — large fees. 
 
 W On conferring with our House, we have agreed 
 
 that we must secure your services, to look after our Chica- 
 go interest. It is valuable, and we feel that it is unsafe to 
 trust it to the lawyers there who may have no experience 
 with the Great Extraordinary Remedy. Here is a check 
 for £1000 to cover expenses and other matters that may be 
 required; and here is the card of our attorney there. 
 [Handing them to S.] Can you go there at once? 
 
 S My business here is pressing, you see, but I think 
 
 I might make arrangements to leave on the night train and 
 be absent a few days. In fact, I have been considering the 
 subject of establishing a branch injunction office there, 
 where the new practice under the Great Writ might be in- 
 troduced in the west. There is a grand field there. 
 
 W. You will obtain all the necessary facts from our 
 attorney there. See that our interests are protected, and 
 you shall be amply rewarded, 
 
 S The office of 1001 Pine. Judge Slaughter of Counsel, 
 
 Injunctions a Specialty, always protects the interests of 
 clients, with the Great Extraordinary Remedy. 
 
 [ W. bowing departs. \ 
 
'32 TH2 ca?.:£ (;::;;u:::\ 
 
 Dolittle! \D. appears from the back office]. 1 must leave 
 to night for Chicago, on important business, not only tor 
 myself, but others, T think we must start a branch office 
 there. This is confidential. There's a hundred fortunes in 
 it ! I have been inspired with that Idea. Now take charge 
 of both departments of this office for a few days. If I could 
 find time to go to Duluth, I could make 50,000 out of the 
 Specialty. There has been corruption in the North Pacific 
 and in the Duluth Land Company. And the stockholders 
 here must have the aid of the Great Extraordinary Reme- 
 dy. They must seek the office 1001 Pine, before justice is 
 done. Mark my words, as the words of inspiration, here is 
 50,000. Then I could make a fortune at the Thousand Isl- 
 ands. Perhaps I may take them in on my return. There 
 I would meet my old friend. Fielding. He left here a few 
 days ago with his family and a few invited guests, to make 
 a. tour to Evergreen, one of the Tin a sand Islands, by way 
 of the rivers and .lake to Chicago and Duluth, and thence 
 to his Summer home on Evergreen. 
 
 D I will attend to the business of the office. 
 
 S How progresses the book ? 
 
 D Rapidly! See this pile of matter, now ready for 
 
 the printer. [Holds up a pile of paper.] At this rate it 
 will be finished by to-morrow night. 
 
 S All right. The sooner the better. It won't do to 
 
 put much work on it. Law Publishers pay but little, and 
 it makes but little difference what the manuscript contains, 
 if there is plenty of it. But mind you, accept no royalty 
 on books sold. Their free and exchange list beats a coun- 
 try newspaper, Doirt accept a royalty on sales made. A 
 word to the wise. 
 
 Let the printers furnish a corrected proof, embracing 
 mistakes in spelling, punctuation, grammar, and make 
 such additions as may be required to make sense. Then 
 we will make additions to text and notes ; and then have 
 a similar proof of this. The great labor of the most suc- 
 cessful authors, is after the manuscript is in the hands 
 of the printers. This I will attend to. 
 
 Now, I must see to the service of the injunction on Judge 
 Lilliput, to restrain him from issuing an anticipated in- 
 junction against the Erie, and secure a pass over that road. 
 So farewell. Remember, Judge Slaughter of Counsel. 1001. 
 Pine, 'Injunctions a specialty . ' [Exit ■ ) |. 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 33 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene VIII. — Front of Jail. Antony with James at the 
 door. 
 
 Antony. I want to put a flea in your car. But you must 
 keep mum. Now you have a wife and child to look alter, 
 and I don't like to .shut up a man under such circumstan- 
 ces. It appears to me that it is all wrong. I can tell you 
 something. I allow prisoners, like you, to go out in "the 
 garden, and hoe a little, or split wood, here, for exercise. I 
 shall give you this privilege. It ain't far over the way 
 there to the brush and timber, and if you should be missed 
 some day, I don't think there would be much fuss made 
 about it. Do you understand? 
 
 Brown, Yes ; I think I do comprehend the suggestion. 
 All right ! [JB, and A. enter Jail, End of Scene*] 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 Scene IX. — Living room at Hie residence of Mr. Slaughter. 
 Rickety table^ set. Present, Mrs. S. and two daughters Su- 
 san and Jane, aged respectively 14 and 16 pears — all in soiled 
 and shabby garments, Cooking stove and chairs to suit, 
 Enter Slaughter ( ) with a package of goods. 
 
 Slaughter. Hurra! hurra! hurra! Here we are, once 
 more happy, in the bosom of our family. [Embraces Mrs, 
 S. and kisses the girls.] 
 
 Mrs. S. Why are you so late to dinner, my dear? 
 
 $ Business ! Business ! Iv'e no time to eat. Judge 
 
 Slaughter of Counsel, office 1001 Pine, has no time to waste. 
 What have you left < 
 
 Mrs. S. Susan and Jane have devoured nearly all the 
 goose. They couldn t wait. It seems as though they 
 could'nt get enough to eat. 
 
 S Well, let the girls have all they want to eat, now. 
 
 They have been stinted a long time. I am now elevated 
 out of the financial slough, in which I stuck so long, and 
 have once more enough to buy all the food they want. 
 Their father, Thomas Slaughter, has become Judge Slaugh- 
 ter, of Counsel, 1001 Pine, Injunctions a Specialty. It is 
 the result of enterprise and inspiration. 
 
 But let me show you what I have bought. I Undoes the 
 
g4 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 package.] Here's a pattern for each of you, and the best 
 goods I could find. I have been so overwhelmed with busi- 
 ness, I hav n't had time to look at that house upon 6th; 
 and I must leave to-night for Chicago on important mat- 
 ters. When I return I will secure a home for you all — a 
 first class one. In the meantime have the dresses made up 
 and eat all you want. 
 
 [Mrs. S. and the girts examine the goods. ] 
 
 Jane. Isn't this lovely? [Holding up the goods.] I guess 
 we'll be as good as any of the girls now. 
 
 Susan. Mine'll take the shine off Pussy Stevens' new dress, 
 
 Mrs. S. What on 'arth are you coming to ; Thomas? It 
 seems 'though heaven's broke loose. 
 
 Mr. S. The result of enterprise and inspiration — Injunc- 
 tions a specialty, has worked wonders. Simple words, but 
 full of meaning. They express the whole law and practice — 
 business! wealth! fortune! honor! glory I 
 
 [Pressing Mrs. S. again to his bosom and ksssing the girls y 
 and in their joy, all dance around the room.} 
 
 Mrs. S. For the land sake! who'd a thought it? How did 
 you ever think of injuncting especially? Them words are 
 so strange. I should never a thought on J em, in all my born 
 days. Land'a massa what shall we do with all these things? 
 
 Mr. S. O, well have use for them when we get in our 
 new house, and have a carriage to ride down to the office, 
 and go a shopping with. 
 
 Susan. You don't say so, pa? 
 
 Mr. S. O, Yes ! Money is flowing in like the tidal waves. 
 I shan't know what to do with it. I've got all my pockets 
 full now, and lots in the bank. [Pulls out his hands fidl — 
 some scatters on the floor, which the girls scramble for.} 
 This is the fruit of inspiration and enterprise. A happy hit 
 in that trade mark, or rather professional mark, "Injunc- 
 tions a Specialty." 
 
 Mrs. S. Injuncting especially ! Who'd a thought there 
 was so much in them words? Injuncting especially ! 
 
 Mr. S. I must take a little dinner, now, and then be off 
 to Chicago. A carriage is waiting at the door, to take me 
 to the depot. Have you any goose left? [Sitting down to 
 the table.] 
 
 Mrs. S. Nothing, my dear Judge," but the neck]" aiict the 
 gizzard. Susie, dear child, took the last leg. 
 
 Mr. S. Well, set up such as you have. Next time I'll get 
 a pair. I sliLai't slay to eat much. [Mrs. S. sett in:; :— of 
 
THE CAMP < J ROUND. 35 
 
 the remains of the dinner on the table]. And it won't take 
 long to dispose of what remains. Never mind my dear. I 
 have a pass tor a palace dining room car and sleeper, on 
 the Erie, and I can hnish my dinner there. 
 
 Mrs. S. Girls! Why don't yon wait on your father? It 
 don't seem's though he was your father, now. He is so 
 changed. That stand up coliar makes him 'pear like a 
 judge. 
 
 Mr. S. That is the title I bear. Judge Slaughter, of Coun- 
 sel, 1001 Pine, Injunctions a Specialty. 
 
 Mrs. S. Do tell ! Judge Slaughter, Counsel of Pine, 1001, 
 injections especially. Lord 'a 'massy ! 
 
 Mr. S. I must be off. Business enterprise requires it. 
 Give me the old satchel, and a clean shirt, if I have one. 
 
 [Mrs. S. goes for the shirt.] 
 
 Mrs. S. Here is one, but it needs some mending. [Brings 
 forth the shirt and old satchel]. 
 
 Mr. S. Never mind, put it in. It wont show when it is 
 on me. I can't stay. Good by, all ! [Embraces and kisses 
 them] I must be known in Chicago, as Judge Slaughter, of 
 Counsel, 1001 Pine, Injunctions a Specialty. 
 
 Girls. Good by, pa. [Exit Mr. 8. ( ) ]. 
 
 Mrs. S. Good by, Judge. Injections especially ! 
 
 [End of Act.] 
 
 ACT III. 
 Scene /.—Room in the mansion of Ueiiry Fielding, ok 
 Evergreen, one of the islands of the St. Lawrence. Lena 
 his daughter seven years old, asleep on a bed. Enter 
 
 Eielding,( ) fast middle age of life, gazing at Lena. 
 
 Lime, morning. 
 
 Fielding. [Sol]. She still sleeps. The long walk yester- 
 day exhausted her physical strength, and she seemed worse 
 than usual last night. But her sleep is undisturbed now, 
 and a placid serenity rests upon her sweet face, half buried 
 beneath her hair. [Pushes back her hair, and kisses her. 
 Lays his hand upon her arm. Lena aivakes, and gazes 
 with surprise.] 
 
 Lena. Why, this is you, papa ! I — I, thought it was some 
 one else. I was dreaming. [Extending her hand to her 
 father.] Good morning, papa. 
 
36' THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 Fielding. Good morning, my dear. [Kisses her. \ 
 [Lena. [Gazing out of the ivindow.] What a lovely morn- 
 ing. See the drops on the leaves. They sparkle in the sun 
 like diamonds. I must get up and enjoy these things with 
 you. 
 
 [Enter Mrs. Fielding. ( ) ]. 
 
 Fielding. Our agent, Mr. Russell, will go on the yacht r 
 this morning, to the National Methodist Camp G-ronnd, on 
 one of the Islands a few miles above here. Stella and oth- 
 ers desire to go T and I thought you would like to take a trip 
 there. 
 
 Mrs. F. I have felt a desire to see a meeting in the open 
 air and in the woods, and I think I will go. 
 
 Mr. F. Then get ready as soon as possible, as the Nep- 
 tune is all in order for the trip. 
 
 Mrs. F. Would you like to go with us, Lena? I think you 
 would enjoy the ride and the meeting in the woods. It is 
 so curious to have religious services on an island and under 
 the trees. 
 
 Lena. But papa will be here almost alone. I think I had 
 better stay with him. Besides I do not feel very strong 
 this morning. I was thinking- last night of my doll, Susie, 
 and the little kittens down in New York, and many other 
 tilings, so that I could not rest ; and then in the morning I 
 had a beautiful dream, when papa came to my room. Oh, 
 what beautiful things I saw ! I thought— 
 
 Mrs. F. O, there my child, you are always dreaming of 
 beautiful things— of cats and clogs and birds, and dolls, in 
 heaven. You must not think of these absurd things ; and I 
 have not time now to listen to your dreamy visions. 
 
 Lena. Well, mama, I will not tell you any more about 
 them. But this one was so beautiful that I thought every- 
 body would like to hear about it. 
 
 Mrs. F. We will go to the Camp Meeting, and you can 
 stay and tell your papa all about your strange dream. 
 
 F I have directed Mr Russell to invite Dr. Philos to 
 
 Evergreen. He is a distinguished scientist, who has been 
 spending some time here among the islands, investigating 
 the geology of this section. He will also probably bring 
 with him on the Neptune, several others, whom I have re- 
 quested him to invite here to our summer home. Lena and 
 I will remain here and take a stroll on the island, but we 
 will not take so long a walk as we did yesterday. 
 
 Lena. Yes, we will go to the arbor near the observatory, 
 where we saw the wild ducks and geese sailing on the water 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 37 
 
 and the black crow on the pine tree, and the squirrels in 
 the branches. I want to see if these birds are as beautiful 
 as those I saw in my dream. 
 
 [Exit Mrs. F. ( ) ]. 
 
 F Then you saw birds in your dream, did you? 
 
 Lena. O, yes ; and I saw many other nice things. 
 
 F What else did you see, my dear? 
 
 Lena I saw beautiful lawns, and marble paved walks, 
 with overhanging trees, bordered with fragrant flowers. I 
 also saw a beautiful lake, surrounded with beds of hand- 
 some plants and flowers; and near by were children in the 
 shade of trees, with dolls, and birds, and kittens like little 
 Fanny, that died in New York. Do you remember little 
 Fanny that died, and that we placed in the box and buried 
 in the cold ground in the garden? 
 
 F O, yes. 
 
 Lena. Do you remember Lotta Steller, that lived in the 
 next house to us, and who used to come and play with me 
 in the garden and the park? 
 
 F Certainly, my child. 
 
 Lena. It made me feel so bad, when she died, and they 
 came with the black coffin, and men came with black crape 
 on their arms. 
 
 F But what has this to do with your dream? I 
 
 thought you were going to tell me about your dream. 
 
 Lena. Yes, I am. But I saw little Lottie in my dream. 
 She was with a little company of other children, by the side 
 of the beautiful lake. She came to me in my dream with 
 my little Fanny, that we used to play with, and seemed as 
 happy as ever to meet me. She placed one arm around me 
 and kissed me, and holding up little Fanny on the other 
 arm, she said they were all happy there. At the time you 
 woke me, I saw your friend who used to visit us in New 
 York. He lived up near the Park, and had an office down 
 in the City Hall, where we went to see the fine pictures in 
 the Governor's room. 
 
 F Yes, I remember him. He died over a year ago. 
 
 Lena. He was approaching me at the time you touched 
 my arm and I awoke. 
 
 F I am sorry that I interrupted you in your pleasing 
 
 dream. 
 
 Lena. I forgot to tell you, papa, that Lotta said she was 
 in heaven. Do you think this was heaven, papa? [Field- 
 ing averts his faceand remains silent.] Don't you think 
 
38 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 there are trees, and lakes, and flowers, and dolls and kit- 
 tens ill the Spirit world, papa? Is not the Spirit world as 
 lovely and beautiful as the parks and Evergreen? 
 
 F Yes, I hope so, my dear. I must leave you now 
 
 for a short time to attend to some business. I expect sev- 
 eral guests here on the Neptune, when she returns from the 
 Camp Meeting. I will send Jerusha here to assist you in 
 dressing, and after breakfast we will take another walk — 
 perhaps as far as the Great Cave. 
 
 [Exit F. ( ) End of scene]. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene II. — National Methodist Camp Ground on Ta-na- 
 ha-ta, or Welles Island, one of the Thousand Isles of the 
 St. Lawrence. A view of the St. Lawrence and islands. 
 Tabernacle— a pavillion for speakers; and a large meeting. 
 Singing " Ninety and Nine." Slaughter, Judge Living- 
 stone, Lewis, and others in front. Livingstone introducing 
 Lewis and Slaughter. 
 
 Livingstone. Mr. Lewis, Judge Slaughter, a New York 
 lawyer. [Shake hands. ] 
 
 Lewis. Happy to meet you. I understand you make In- 
 junctions a Specialty. These grounds belong to a Joint 
 Stock Company. I am the treasurer and a large stock- 
 holder. The occupants are mere tenants in possession un- 
 der a contract of purchase. Three thousand dollars are 
 now due on the purchase money and the society delays the 
 payment. The meetings will soon close. Would an in- 
 junction bring the money ? 
 
 Slaughter. Nothing is more certain. Injunction is the 
 most effectual remedy. This Great Extraordinary Equit- 
 able Eemedy, is our specialty. It was instituted for this 
 express purpose. It is the right arm of equity ! the Mag- 
 num Bonum, the palladium— the Magna Charta, of legal 
 rights! Without this Great Extraordinary Process, you 
 would be without remedy ; and it is fortunate that I am 
 here to assist you. With the well known firm which I 
 have the honor to represent on these grounds, consecrated 
 to religion, the Great Extraordinary Remedy is a specialty. 
 The office is well known. Judge Slaughter, of counsel, 1001 
 Pine, Injunctions a Specialty. 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 39 
 
 Lewis. What would be required in this case? and what 
 would be your charges? 
 
 Slaughter. The proper course to pursue is also clear. I 
 have some blank papers here which I can till out in a 
 moment. You can sign and swear to the matters set forth. 
 Judge Livingstone can step into one of the little tenements 
 surrounding the Tabernacle, and as of chambers, (a mere 
 fiction of the law,) he will grant an injunction, restraining 
 the occupants from further use of the grounds, until tho 
 sum is paid or the further orders of the judge. This may 
 be served upon the ministers, deacons, officers, and mana- 
 gers, and would effectually stop the further progress of the 
 meetings. 
 
 Lewis. But will this bring the money? 
 
 Slaughter. This Great Equitable Remedy, the Magna 
 Charta of our liberties, the Magnum Bonum, should bo 
 used in this case as a coersive remedy. Circumstances 
 would forbid the immediate abandonment of this island 
 and tented field. The proper practice in such a case would 
 be to secure the injunction; but before service, suggest to 
 the ministers, and others, that the requisite funds could 
 in an emergency, like this, be easily raised by a contribu- 
 tion on the grounds. I am liberal in such cases and I 
 shouldn't mind giving five or ten dollars, myself. Pass 
 around the box after a statement of the facts in the case 
 from the Tabernacle, and my word for it, the sum is raised. 
 As I am absent from the office, on an excursion amidst this 
 beautiful scenery of the St. Lawrence, and desire to aid a 
 worthy object, I will undertake to accomplish the purpose 
 for half the amount I should ask under other circumstan- 
 ces — say five hundred dollars. 
 
 Leivis. We have a payment to make on the original pur- 
 chase, and must have the money. So prepare the papers, 
 and I will have the proper parties advised of the pro- 
 ceedings, and suggest to them the course you have indica- 
 ted. Step this way. [They enter a tenement, with Judge 
 Livingstone. Lewis soon appears again, and goes towards 
 the Tabernacle. He soon returns. Re-enter ( ) Slaugh- 
 
 ter and Judge Livinystone.] 
 
 Slaughter. Here are the papers. 
 
 Lewis. 1 have advised them of my action, and the Rev. 
 Mr. Lovewell, is now presenting the case to the large aud- 
 ience, with an exhortation to "them to contribute to the 
 payment of the sum due. There ! I notice they are now 
 making a collection. I think they will raise the amount. 
 
 Livingstone. Mi's. Fielding and her party are contriba- 
 
40 THE CA1IP GROUND. 
 
 ting. The money will easily be raised. They are getting 
 enthusiastic. Now the collectors are returning to the Pa- 
 vilion. 
 
 Lewis, Tills is a wonderful remedy of yours. It is singu- 
 lar that it hain't been in use before. 
 
 Slaughter. It is an old remedy. But its virtues seem to 
 have been lost amidst the exciting scenes through which 
 our people have passed, and the want of ability on the part 
 of our profession. 
 
 Lewis. Here are some Deacons and Officers approaching. 
 I presume they are coming to make payment. 
 
 [Parties approach.} 
 
 Deacon. Mr. Lewis, we have succeeded in raising more 
 than sufficient to meet the obligation. Here is the money. 
 You may give us a receipt. 
 
 [Lewis takes the money and counts it]. 
 
 Lewis. All right. I will write a receipt. [Writes one]. 
 Here it is. [Deacons gaze and listen}. Here is your fee, 
 Judge. [Handing Slaughter $500.] The Great Extraordi- 
 nary Writ, is a wonderful remedy. It is strange that it 
 hain't been introduced here before/ 
 
 Slaughter. It's full virtues cannot be duly appreciated, 
 here. In the larger cities, and in the proper management 
 of those gigantic corporations, like the Erie and the Hudson 
 River and New York Central, its merits have been duly ap- 
 preciated. And in the Great Stock Exchange in New York 
 its potency has been felt by even the Bulls and the Bears. 
 
 Deacon. Do you refer to the Millenium ? 
 
 Slaughter. Yes, partly. When the Bulls and the Bears 
 lie down together, the lions and the lambs, will soon follow. 
 The former have felt its influence, and in time I expect, 
 through our specialty, that all the beasts of prey will be 
 made as gentle as lambs. 
 
 Lewis. I am thankful to you. 
 
 S All right; I shall hope to aid you again. 
 
 [End of scene.] 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 41 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 S'CENTE III. — Drawing room of the mansion of Mr. Field- 
 ing on Evergreen. Present, F. and Lena. Enter Russell, 
 his agent. 
 
 Fieldiny. From the singing and shouting on the Neptune 
 I should imagine that yon 'were transporting the whole 
 Camp Meeting to Evergreen, on the little yacht. 
 
 Russell. Yes, we had considerable musi'c on the trip. 
 Several persons have accepted invitations to visit Ever- 
 green. I found Dr. Philos as I anticipated- But he inform- 
 ed me that Mrs.. Philos and two children had recently come 
 from the East to attend the Camp Meeting, and that she had 
 become very zealous and much interested in the meetings. 
 I then extended the invitation for all of them to enjoy your 
 hospitalities here, during their continuance, which was ac- 
 cepted, and they will he here in a moment. I hastened to 
 apprise you of the facts. Mr. Anderson, a wierd and ec- 
 centric man, is also in the party. The colored Minstrels 
 will be here to-morrow. 
 
 [The company approach singing, Mrs. Philos leading her 
 children, Solomon aged 7 years, and Naomi aged 9 years. 
 Enter party from the Camp Ground ( ) ]. 
 
 Mrs. Philos. The Spirit of the Lord is moving. Kings 
 shall bow down and worship him, and the nations 
 of the earth shall serve him. Evil doers shall be cut 
 off, but those that wait upon the Lord shall inherit the 
 earth. [Addressing Mr. Fielding.] It was good to be there. 
 The Spirit of the Lord was \ipon the people. Every one 
 that asketh receiveth, and to him that knocketh it shall be 
 opened. 
 
 F I presume Mrs. Philos, you have enjoyed the camp 
 
 meetings? 
 
 Mrs. P. Yes, I have been there three days, and feel 
 
 that I have been revived. I can now see more clearly,, 
 through faith, the great white throne of the Eternal City* 
 
 "Lift up your eyes of faith and see, 
 
 Saints and angels joined in one, 
 What a countless company 
 
 Stand before yon dazzling throne. " 
 
 {Casting glances at Solomon and Naomi; whom she still 
 holds by their hands.] 
 
 Solomon and Naomi are the source of much anxiety to 
 me. The perversity of the young heart is amazing. I have 
 tried to make them interested in the preaching. T have 
 
42 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 done a mother's Christian duty, in instructing- them in the 
 Word of God. Train up a child in the way he should go 
 and when he is old he will not depart from it. I have set 
 them an example of a life of holiness, but I fear that they 
 are still out of the ark of safety. 
 
 [Solomon and Naomi notice Lena playing, and manifest 
 a desire to be released.} 
 
 Fielding. How do you like Evergreen ? 
 
 Mrs. P — - All ! All! is vanity ! What shell it profit 
 a man if he gain the whole world and lose his own soul ? 
 
 Fielding. Tea is now ready, Mrs. Philos. Jerasha, con- 
 duct Mrs. Philos to her room. 
 
 Russell. [Introducing Dr. Philos, ami Mr. Anderson.} 
 Mr. Fielding, Dr. Philos— Mr. Anderson. 
 
 Fielding. You are quite welcome, Doctor. I am pleased 
 to see you here. [Shakes hands with the Doctor.] And Mr. 
 Anderson, also. [Shakes hands with Mr. Anderson, a weird 
 and cadaverous man, with long hair and thread-bare gar- 
 ments.] 
 
 Enter Slaughter ( ). Fielding to Mrs. F. and Stella. 
 
 Aside]. 
 
 Fielding. Why, there is lawyer Slaughter, of New York, 
 an old Connecticut acquaintance. I knew him when we 
 were boys. I wonder what has called him here. He was 
 the picture of poverty the last time I saw him in New 
 York, and I gave him $10. 
 
 [Slaughter approaches and shakes hands ivith F.] 
 
 Slaughter: Glad to meet you my old friend, under more 
 favorable circumstances than the last time we met. Things 
 are changed, and I ride triumphantly on the waves of pros- 
 perity to an immense fortune ! In fact I may say that I 
 and fortune have already joined hands. We are married 
 forever ! 
 
 Fielding. I am pleased to hear of your success. But how 
 did you woo the fickle dame ? 
 
 Slaughter. Yankee enterprise united with genius and 
 inspiration will succeed. I have made three efforts to win 
 her. The last succeeded. First, you will remember I be- 
 came a politician, was elected magistrate down in Con- 
 necticut, and seemed on the road to" success, but T failed to 
 secure a second term. I then embarked my all, in the 
 Claim Agency, Back-pay, and County business, in New 
 York. This succeeded for a time, but finally it played out. 
 In the very depths of poverty and despair, I became in- 
 spired with the idea, of making Injunctions a Speciality . I 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 13 
 
 attended the higher courts in New York, observed the ad- 
 vantages of that Groat Extraordinary Remedy, the bul- 
 wark of financial rights — the magnum bonum of the people, 
 the almost exclusive subject of consideration by till the 
 courts, and the magnitude of the cases in which the Remedy 
 was sought ; and I, with my Yankee enterprise, accepted 
 the words of inspiration, opened an office on the first floor, 
 1001 Pine, on the front windows of which appeared in 
 golden letters, "H. Dolittle Solicitor, Judge Slaughter, of 
 Counsel, Injuctionsa Specialty." From that time my office 
 was literally flooded with clients, and I am now one of the 
 money kings of Manhattan. 
 F A remarkable success. 
 
 S I have been to Chicago to advise with a local at- 
 torney, in an important injunction ease. You see New 
 York is the great centre of Commerce, money, and law — 
 especially of Injunctions as a specialty. They have worked 
 it up there to the highest pitch. In the West they have 
 failed to see the potency of the Great Extraordinary Rem- 
 edy as a means of restraining courts. At least they failed 
 to comprehend the practice in such cases. I went there to 
 advise, and I am about to establish a branch office there for 
 "Injunctions a Specialty. 1 ' There is a grand opening. 
 There's a hundred fortunes in it. There is only one cause 
 for alarm to me, but I am r>repared for the emergency, 
 which I will privately mention. It must not, however, 
 reach the ears of any professional shyster. I have feared 
 that all the courts would be enjoined, so as to ruin the 
 business. Inspiration has again whispered to me, "Manda- 
 mus a Specialty." Now mandamus is the Great Extraor- 
 dinary Legal Remedy, and is more potent even than In- 
 junctions. If injunctions should fail, there's a hundred 
 fortunes in Mandamus as a specialty. In fact it is the 
 Great Legal Prerogative Writ that may compell anything 
 to be done which a client can ask. With such a powerful 
 engine — the right arm of courts of law — who can say that 
 there's not a hundred fortunes in it. I am prepared to 
 meet that emergency. But for the present my motto is, 
 44 Injunctions a Specialty." 
 
 Fielding. Tea is now ready. Walk, out Mr. Slaughter. 
 
 [Exit S. ( ) ]. 
 
 Russell. [ToF.] I have fixed up the cabin on the North 
 side of the island for the Colored Jubilee Singers, and sup- 
 plied the yards with ducks and chickens; and these I think 
 will afford them pleasure. 
 
 Fielding. A good idea. Have it ready in time. 
 
14 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 Russell, I found at the Camp Ground, Mr. Webb, an 
 English actor, who is full of amusement and humor ; and 
 Mr. Whitney, an old naval officer. He was on the Ameri- 
 can ship Oneida, that cruised among the islands here in the 
 war of 1812, and for many years he has spent his summers: 
 here. They are both qualified to please and instruct, and 
 will be here in a day or two. 
 
 Fielding. All right ! I shall be pleased to see them. 
 
 [Exit R. ( ) ]. 
 
 } Enter Stella, a niece of Mr. Fieldings ( ) ]. 
 
 Stella. I have not informed you that the first speaker at 
 the Tabernacle, on the Camp Ground to-day, was the Rev. 
 Mr. Lovewell. We made his acquaintance there, and ex- 
 tended him an invitation to visit us, which he accepted, 
 and he will be here on the Neptune to-morrow evening. 
 
 F Not the Mr. Lovewell we heard pre-ach in Chicago,. 
 
 on our trip to Evergreen? and tbat you were pleased, if not 
 in love with ? 
 
 Stella. The same one ; and bis discourse was splendid. 
 It was far better than the one at Chicago, and his eloquence 
 produced a profound sensation. 
 
 F Well, I am happy to hear it. I shall certainly be 
 
 pleased to make his acquaintance, and to entertain him 
 here. 
 
 [Exeunt — End of Scene. 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene IV— *■' Leafy Temple" a large sealed Arbor on 
 Evergreen. Present, Fielding, Dr. Philos r Mr. Slaugh- 
 ter, Louis Mars He, Anderso7t, Minstrels, and a large as- 
 scmbly. A high bluff and the opening of the Great Cave 
 in the distance. 
 
 Fielding. [To Uncle Abe, the head of the colored Minstrel 
 family]. How do you like your quarters. 
 
 Uncle Abe. Could n't beat 'em, very well. Had an old 
 fashioned time there, last night, we did. 
 
 Aunt Hanna. Thought we was down Souf, once more. 
 Derse ducks and chicks, look a heap like dem we had down 
 dar. Lor bless me, Mr. Feely, if we had such tings all de 
 time, we neber tink going back to Old Kentuck any more. 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 45 
 
 F Why, you hav n't thought of going back to Old 
 
 Kentucky, again, have you? 
 
 Aunt H. You see, Mr. Feely, we hab heap of trouble in 
 de norf. We hab to look arter ourselves here, for de white 
 folks don't keer nofing for niggars here. We try to get 
 some money to buy a little isle in the St. Lawrence; but it 
 mighty hard work. It take all we raise in de summer to 
 lib in de winter, and its de same wid de cows and the hoss- 
 es. If it wern't for de ole songs we sing and de jubilees, 
 we'd hab a hard time on't. Den dere's dem two little cher- 
 ubims we had to leave dare in de ground under de old par- 
 simon tree, 'pears dat I ort to go and see dem again. I hab 
 no comfort here but de meetins and de songs and dese chil- 
 ern. [Looking at her family.] 
 
 F O, you will yet have all the old comforts and pleas- 
 ures you had down South, and you are not in fear that your 
 little ones will be taken from you and sent off where you 
 cannot see them, as you were down there. 
 
 Aunt H. Dat am true, [weeping], I hab a dear blessed 
 cherubim taken down to Alabam, an' I neberseed her any 
 more, or heer'd of her, 'cept what Myra Sims tole me. She 
 wern't very well, no way, and I 'spec she died afore de war. 
 For all de worl dat man, [gazing at Andersony act like Myra 
 Sims. 
 
 Fielding. Who was Aunt Myra Sims? 
 
 Aunt H. Lor' han't you heerd o' Myra Sims? I thought 
 eb'ry body heerd o' her. She was the curiest ole woman I 
 eber seed. Ebry body heerd o' her down in ola Kentuck. 
 She were a kind o' witch, and used to tell fortins to de nig- 
 gers, and de white folks too used to go to see Aunt Myra. 
 Her ole Massa kind a' feard her, cause I 'spec he was guilty. 
 Dat's de way wid some folks, when da gets guilty, da gets 
 afeerd. 
 
 F Well, what did she do, and how did she act? 
 
 Aunt H. She did ebry ting and said ebry ting. She tole 
 all about what was dun and gone, and about tings to cum. 
 She say de niggars were goin to be free. And she tole all 
 about de war. Den she tole all about dat blessed cherubim 
 down in Alabam. She said de poor chile wanted to see 
 her old mudder, and dat de angels come one night and took 
 her away, so her old Massa could not 'buse her any more. 
 [Gazing at Anderson, who is sitting on the border of the 
 arbor, with a nervous twitching of the arms and head.\ 
 'Pears like Myra is here herself, it is so nateral. But Myra 
 used to make a fire ob hazel brush on de flat rock afore de 
 cave. Den she would go up to de great dark hole, and peep 
 
46 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 in, den she would set down by de fire, den she would hab 
 all de niggers take hole o' hans, and dance around de fire, 
 den de spirit ob de Lord would come and Myra would tell 
 all about de poor souls down in Alabam and Missip, and 
 how da wanted to come back to dare ole home. 
 
 Anderson. [In a solemn and hollow voice.] Yes, she is 
 here, with the child. It was Sim's child. They are drawn 
 here by the harmonies of these earthly friends, and the 
 sympathy that exists between them. 
 
 Aunt H. Bless de Lor, den dey are shurely here wid dis 
 ole woman. And dat is what I always said, it was Massa 
 Sims' chile. It look a heap like him. [Weeping.] 
 
 F Will the Minstrels now favor us with a song. 
 
 Minstrels. [Sing]. 
 
 " The sun shines bright in the Old Kentucky home, 
 
 It's summer the darkeys are gay, 
 The corn tops ripe, and the meadow's in the bloom, 
 
 While the birds make music all the day. 
 The young folks roll on the little cabin floor, 
 
 All merry, all happy and bright, 
 By 5 n by hard times comes a knocking at the door, 
 Then my OM Kentucky home good night. 
 Weep no more my lady 
 Weep no more for me, 
 
 We'll sing one song lor the Old Kentucky home, 
 Eor the Old Kentucky home, far away." 
 
 [Etc. 
 Dr. Phelos. [To Mr. Fielding]. This is Louis Marsile, 
 known as the "Old Man of the Cave'' — Mr Fielding. [In- 
 troducing]. 
 
 F I am happy to meet you. You are welcome. [Shak- 
 ing hands]. 
 
 Louis M. I have frequently come to this Island, which 
 you have named Evergreen, without a welcome. 
 
 F I have heard so. But things are changed. We 
 
 would at some convenient time be pleased to have you re- 
 late some of the incidents connected with the Island, with 
 which you have been familiar so long. I understand that 
 the Great Cave down there, is a place of peculiar interest to 
 you. 
 
 Louis M. Yes that is true. But I am expecting Sken-so- 
 wa-ne, an Indian maiden, of St. Regis, who has been famil- 
 iar with these Islands since she was a child, and is ac- 
 quainted with places of interest upon this one. She is also 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 47 
 
 familiar with the legends of her tribe connected with it, and 
 will be able to interest you with them more than 1 could. 
 
 Fielding. | To Dr. Philos. \ Are you acquainted with this 
 Indian girl ? 
 
 Dr. P. I think I have met her. In my travels last spring, 
 I visited St. Regis, a rustic and romantic Indian Village, 
 situated on a reservation, a few miles below here. Desir- 
 ing to cross the St. Lawrence, at that Place she took me to 
 the Canadian side in her canoe, raid interested me by her 
 accounts of the village and her tribe there, and these 
 islands. 
 
 Mr. F. Will you favor us with some account of these ? 
 
 Dr. Philos. The St. Regis Indians are a reminent of the 
 Mohawk tribe of the great family of the Iroquois. Many 
 years ago, this branch was located at Cochnawaga, near 
 Montreal. It is a matter of history, that in the year 1704, a 
 party of them united with some French Canadian adven- 
 turers, and went to Deerfield, Massachusetts,- and captured 
 the Rev. Mr. Williams and his wife and two daughters, and 
 that Mrs. Williams becoming exhausted on the route and 
 unable to travel, was killed by an Indian. Mr. Williams and 
 one of the daughters was soon after ransomed ; but the 
 other daughter remained there, and was educated in the 
 language, adopted the customs, and embraced the Catholic 
 religion of the tribe. She finally married a chief, and her de- 
 scendants with others afterwards located at St. Regis. Sken- 
 so-wa-ne is a beautiful, dusky maiden, and a descendant 
 of the daughter of the Rev. Mr. Williams. I will further 
 say, that there is a legend that the bell that hangs in the 
 belfry of the great stone church near the center of the vil- 
 lage, was also captured from a church in Deerfield at the 
 same time of the capture of the Williams family, and that 
 it was also taken to Cochnawaga where it remained for 
 some time, but was afterwards removed to St. Regis, where 
 it now marks the time for religious services in the old 
 Catholic church. But here comes the camp meeting party. 
 
 \In the distance, Airs. Philos, leading Solomon and 
 Naomi, Mrs. Fielding, Rev. J\Ir. Lovczucll, Mr. Webb, 
 an actor, jfer?tsh and Maggy, servant girls, Mr. Whit- 
 ney, an old Naval officer, Mr. Russell and others ap- 
 proach, singing. 
 
 "We are waiting by the river, 
 
 We are watching by the shore, 
 Only waiting for the boatmen, 
 
 Soon he'll come to bear us o'er."' 
 
48 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 [Enter camp meeting company, continuing to sing,] 
 
 "Though the mists hang o'er the river, 
 
 And the billows loudly roar, 
 Yet we hear the song of Angels 
 
 Wafted from the other shore* " 
 
 [etc. Enter ( ) Louis Phillippc Dumont, George 
 
 Washington Phil-brick, Leomdas Ilumbolt^ Jones, and 
 Napoleon Van Dusen, sporting young men Jfrom New 
 York* 1 hey approach Mr* Pielding.] 
 
 Fielding. I am pleased to see you here. [Shaking hands.) 
 You are welcome to Evergreen. We were much saddened 
 Louis, to hear of the death of your mother. 
 
 Louis P. It Avas a severe stroke indeed to me, and in 
 order to relieve my sorrow I fled here. In doing so I have, 
 however, carried out previous arrangements. 
 
 [Russell and Webb approach, and the former introduces 
 Webb and F.] 
 
 Russell. Mr. Fielding— Mr. Webb. [SJiake liands.] 
 
 Fielding. Happy to meet you, Mi\ Webb. 
 
 Webb. ■' All the world's a stage, 
 
 And all men and women are merely players; 
 They have their exits and their entrances; 
 And one man in his time plays many parts.' 
 
 Fielding. True ! The world is a stage, and the exit soon 
 comes. 
 
 Webb. Death is a terrible thing. 
 
 Fielding. To some it is so — not to me. 
 
 Webb. " Ay, but to die and go we know not where; 
 
 To lie in cold abstraction, and to rot, 
 This sensible warm motion to become 
 
 A kneaded clod. 
 
 * * * 
 
 The meanest and most loathed worldly life, 
 That age, ache, penury and imprisonment 
 Can lay on nature, is a paradise 
 To what we fear of death." 
 Fielding. You seemed filled with humorous thoughts, 
 mingled with serious ones. 
 Webb. ' ' Let me play the fool ; 
 
 With mirth and laughter let old wrinkles come, 
 And let my liver rather heat with wine. 
 Than my heart cool with mortifying groans. 
 
• <'a:.:;' cKur^j,. lf» 
 
 Why should a man whose blood 13 warm within 
 Sit like a grandsire in alabaster ? 
 Sleep when he wakes .' and creep into the jaundice 
 By being peevish ?" 
 
 {Solomon and Naomi observe the actor. Mrs. Philos 
 notices it,'and draw r to her. J 
 
 Mrs. P. [Addressing Mr. Webb.] The fear of the Lord is 
 the begining of Wisdom. Blessed be the name of the Lord. 
 
 [Leads the children away.] 
 
 [Stella and Mr. Lovewell seated under overhanging 
 hrnches of a tree near the b&rd&r of the Leaf if Temple, Mr. 
 Fielding approaches, and they rise.} 
 
 Stella. Uncle, this is Mr. Lovewell, whom you have seen 
 hefore. Mr. Lovewell-— Mr. Fielding. [Shake hands.] 
 
 Lovewell. Yes, I remember him Well. 
 
 Fielding. 1 presume Stella lias told you all about the cir- 
 cumstance, which brought us into your presence, at your 
 church one Sunday in Chicago. 
 
 Lovewell. O, yes ; and given me an account of your pleas- 
 ant trip here afterwards. And we were mutually surprised 
 to meet at the camp ground yesterday. 
 
 Stella, And it was quite an agreeable one. 
 
 Lovewell. Yes, there is something so strange about it. 
 
 [Fielding departs smiling.] 
 
 Stella. Let us take seats. [Sit down. Observing Webb.] 
 That Webb is a curious character. 
 
 Lovewell. He has afforded amusement many times to va- 
 rious little knots that would gather around, to witness his 
 humorous and 'fantastic performances in sequestered places 
 «on the island at the campground. I have been much amu- 
 sed myself with him. I noticed him the other day taking 
 various Shakesperean characters in a little bower with a 
 dark background of foliage. I sometimes wander away 
 from the Tabernacle, to remote parts of the island ; and I 
 learn some lessons of human nature in this way that are 
 frequently useful to me. 
 
 Stella, Do you see the young men talking over there. 
 
 Lovewell. Yes, I noticed them as they entered. Who 
 are they? 
 
 Stella. They are from New York, and are encamped on 
 Evergreen. They have come to spend the summer here- 
 to find pleasure and sources of amusement. 
 
 Lovewell. Some lovers perhaps, that have followed you 
 here. You seem agitated by this observation.. There mus4 
 
SO THE CAMP GROUND'.. 
 
 be some truth m this. Well I will not press the matter. 
 We will change the sulbject for the present, 
 
 1 crown you Queen 
 Of Evergreen, 
 
 [Place's a delicate wreath upon her head, which tliey had 
 formed in their walk to the Temple.] 
 
 Stella. [Smiling. } You are a poet as well as a preacher f 
 Mr. Lovewell. Your remark has the qualities of a rhyme, 
 
 LoveweU, [Gazing at Stella, Aside.] 
 
 My ideal of female loveliness seems to be realized. Is this 
 a reality, or the mere creation of imagination ? [ Aloud. } 
 •the leader of that party of young men seem& to be at- 
 tracted to you,. Stella. He observes you frequently. 
 
 Stella, Perhaps so. But I would avoid him. That i» 
 Louis Phillipe Dumont ; the only son of a wealthy New 
 Yorker. 
 
 LoveweU. There is an unpleasant mystery about this. 
 My interest in you at our first meeting at Chicago has in- 
 ereasd, I may say that the little fire then kindled hags grown 
 to a great flame. You fill my ideal. I am in love, and you 
 know the objeet of that passion.. 
 
 Stella, My situation Mr. Lovewell is peculiar. I cannot 
 now say what my feelings would prompt. For the present 
 only think of me as a f 'iend and admirer, or at most let 
 our feelings be limited to a platonie sentiment and regard, 
 
 L&eewell. CouM you give me no key to this mystery % 
 The anxiety will be oppressive. 
 
 Stella. I will only say at this time, that shortly before 
 we left New York, I received a proposition of marriage 
 from Louis Philippe His mother was the bearer of it to 
 my aunt, Mrs. Fielding, who presented it to me. They 
 were quite intimate, and it seems had arranged this matter 
 between them. I was quite surprised when I received it, 
 and was silent. My attnt spoke of the great advantage to 
 me of such a union— of the wealth aud social standing of the* 
 Dumont family, and urg^ed my acceptance of the propo- 
 sition. I still continued silent. Assuming that this arose 
 from my modesty, and concluding that I could not reason- 
 ably refuse such an offer, she asked me to fix the time for 
 the celebration of the nuptials. "' Not now,'' I observed, 
 and she left me alone. I had but little personal acquaint- 
 ance with Louis Phillippe, and had certainly no affection 
 tor him. But I deemed it prudent to say but little, as I was 
 dependent upon my uncle for my home and social position. 
 
THE CAMP (J ROUND, jfl 
 
 1 have never had any conversation with Louis on the sub 
 ject, nor with my uncle. But from what was said and done 
 at that interview, it seems to be assumed by Louis Phil- 
 lippe that we are engaged. 
 
 Lovewell. Do yon consider that there is any binding ob- 
 ligation on your part ? 
 
 Stella. No, I have not felt that there was ; but I propose 
 to state the facts to my uncle, and get his opinion upon 
 the question. 
 
 Loveioell. Do so at the earliest opportunity and advise me 
 of the i-esult. 
 Stella. I will, 
 
 Fielding. Will the ministrels sing us one of their melo- 
 dies ? 
 
 Uncle Abe. O, yes., [Sing.] 
 
 I am growing old and weary, now my sight is getting dim, 
 
 And my work upon the earth is nearly done ; 
 Old massa has departed, I soon will follow him, 
 
 And my friends have crossed the river one by one, 
 Oh ! 'tis sad to bid good-bye, to all that was so dear, 
 
 For I'll never see those good old times again, 
 And I miss the happy voices that I fondly used to hear, 
 
 In the little old log cabin in the lane. 
 
 Ah, yes, I am old and feeble now, my head is bending low, 
 And I never more shall hoe the corn again ; 
 
 Yet the angels they will lead me when my time has come to go 
 From the little old log cabin in the lane, 
 
 Oh, I once was happy all the day, and never knew a care, 
 
 And my good old wife she wandered by my side ; 
 Our little home was humble, but happiness was there, 
 
 'Twas the sweetest spot in all the world so wide ; 
 Now 'tis sinking to decay, and all is dark and sad, 
 
 And I hear upon the roof the falling rain ; 
 E'n the banjo now is silent that once made my heart so glad, 
 
 In my little old log cabin in the lane. 
 
 Ah, yes, I am old and feeble now, my head is bending low, 
 And I never more shall hoe the corn again, 
 
 Yet the angels they will lead me when my time has come to go 
 From the little old log cabin in the lane. 
 
 So I'll totter to my journey's end, and try to do my best, 
 Tho' I'm sad and weary hearted all the day ; 
 
 The angels soon will call me, I soon will be at rest, 
 In the bright and happy home so far away. 
 
52 SHE DAMP GROUND. 
 
 Still I linger by the door, and try to sing my song, 
 
 As I used to do among the sugar cane; 
 I am waiting for the summons, and it will soon come along; 
 
 To my little old log cabin in the lane. 
 
 Ah, yes, I am old and feeble now, my head is bending low y 
 
 And I never more shall hoe the corn again; 
 Yet the angels they will lead me when my time has come to go 
 
 From my little old log cabin in the lane. 
 
 Marsile. Here is Sken-so-wa-ne, approaching in her ca- 
 noe. I will go down and invite her to come up here, and 
 make you acquainted with her. 
 
 Fielding. Do so. 
 
 [Exit Marsile ( ), Sken-so-wa-ne, lauds in her canoe 
 
 in a cove near by,'\ 
 
 Webb. [Aside. Gazing at Sken-so-wa-ne as sTie ap- 
 proaches]. 
 
 ' 'Her beauty hangs upon the cheek of night, 
 Like a rich jewel in an Etbop-'s ear, 
 Beauty too rich for use; for earth too dear; 
 
 So shows a snowy dove trooping with crows, 
 
 As yonder lady o'er her fellows shows. 1 ' 
 
 Dr. Philos. She is the same maiden I met at St. Kegjs. 
 Her name as she informed me signifies ' 'the bird that soars 
 and warbles. " Mr. Marsile has frequently met her. 
 
 Enter Marsile with Sken-so-wa-ne, ( ) a lovely ideal 
 
 Indian girl, with appropriate costume, and introduces her 
 to Mr, Feilding]. 
 
 Marsile. Sken-so-wa-ne, from St. Eegis— Mr. Fielding the 
 proprietor of Evergreen. She is here on one of her annual 
 visits to the Thousand Isles. 
 
 Fielding. She is welcome. And I will endeavor to make 
 her stay here agreeable. 
 
 Sken-sonn-ne. Thank you, Monsieur Fielding. Ana-mo-sa 
 possesses great charms for me. Ever since I was a mere 
 child, I have visited it at least twice annually ; and I know 
 of no island more beautiful among all the Thousand. I hope 
 the many interesting places upon it may be protected and 
 preserved by you, and that I may be permitted to make 
 my annual visits to it. 
 
 Fielding. I assure you that any places upon the island 
 that may be of interest, or sacred to you or your tribe will 
 be protected. I noticed that you called it Ana-mo-sa. Was 
 that the Indian name ? If so, what does it signify ? 
 
 Sken-so-wa-ne. Yes, that was its name, which you have 
 
Tin: CAMP GROUND. 53 
 
 changed, it seems, to Evergreen. It signifies White Fawn. 
 There is a curious tradition connected with the name. 
 There was a distinguished chief of one branch of the Mo- 
 hawk tribe that once had a wigwam near where your man- 
 sion now stands. Ho cleared oft and cultivated a portion 
 of the island there, and some of the old trees there shaded 
 his wigwam, when they were small. He was returning 
 from a hunt, at twilight one night, and at the lower end of 
 the island, not far below the Great Cave, he saw an object 
 which he supposed was a fawn, and drawing his bow aimed 
 an arrow at it. On approaching it, he found that the arrow 
 had pierced the breast of his little daughter. She was dead 
 and the old chief was sad. That night she was buried by 
 the side of the boulder on which she sat when she was slain, 
 and during all the life time of the old chief, he-daily visited 
 this place at twilight, and as he stood where the fatal ar- 
 row was aimed, he would see the form of a white fawn. 
 And from this circumstance in the time long ago, the island 
 was named Ana-mo-sa. 
 
 Webb. [Aside, to a group uear him.] 
 "Ye who love the haunts of nature, 
 
 Love the sunshine and the meadow, 
 Love the shadow and the forest. 
 
 Love the wind among the branches, 
 And the rain shower and the snow storm, 
 
 And the rushing of great rivers, 
 
 Through their palisades of pine trees, 
 
 * * * 
 
 Listen to these wild traditions. " 
 
 Fielding. Is the boulder still there I 
 
 Sken-so-wa-ne. Yes, with a little mound beside it, where 
 she was buried ; and certain characters engraved upon the 
 rock by the old chief still remain. 
 
 Fielding. We have a band of minstrels here that sing at 
 the Camp Meeting. If you would like to hear them I pre- 
 sume they would favor us with one of their melodies. 
 
 Sken-so-wa-ne. O, I want to go to the Camp Meeting, and 
 would be pleased to listen to a song. 
 
 Fielding. You will have an opportunity. The little 
 yacht, Neptune, goes there every day with a party from 
 Evergreen. Will the Minstrels favor us with a song ? 
 
 Uncle Abe. O, yes. We have a little song for dig purpose. 
 [Sing— Tune, Ida May. | 
 
 Gone from the hearts that love her, 
 Gone from her home away. 
 
54 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 Gone in her childish beauty, 
 
 Little Ana-mo-sa. 
 Gone like the moon's light glimmer 
 
 From oft" the ripling stream — 
 Gone like the joyous pictures 
 Of childhood's glowing dream, 
 
 Gone from the hearts that love her, 
 Gone from her home away — 
 Gone in her childish beauty, 
 Little Ana-mo-sa. 
 
 But in a land of beauty, 
 
 Of never-fading flowers, 
 Where care and sorrow come not — 
 
 A holier clime than ours, 
 She dwelleth now and kneeleth 
 
 Beside the throne of God, 
 In praise to him who raiseth, 
 The spirit from the sod. 
 
 Gone from the hearts that love her, 
 Gone from her home away, 
 Gone in her childish beauty, 
 Little Ana-mo-sa. 
 
 [End of Scene.] 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene V. A small bower on Evergreen. Anderson seated 
 with closed eyes, and a wierd and cadaverous appearance. 
 Enter Lena ( ) and approaching Anderson, observes 
 
 him for a moment. 
 
 Lena. You seem to see without your eyes, Mr. Anderson. 
 
 And. Yes, I think I do sometimes — without the use of 
 these physical eyes. They are but the windows of the 
 mental faculty of seeing. If the eyes were gone, the fac- 
 ulty would remain, and impressions might be made on it. 
 
 Lena. But I can't see without them. 
 
 And. True, you ordinarily use them to see. But you you 
 have sometimes seen without them. 
 
 Lena. When, and where, did I see without them. 
 
 And. In your beautiful dream the other night ? 
 
 Lena. What dream do you refer to ? 
 
 A When you saw your little playmate, Lotta, that 
 
;iie CAMP GfeOUm 55 
 
 died in New York ■ and the lake, and the flowers, and the 
 trees, and the groups of children, and the man that died in 
 New York, who once had an office in the City Hall. 
 Lena. But did I see those things i 
 
 A Yes, the impression of them was made on your 
 
 faculty of seeing. 
 
 Lena. How was this done ? 
 
 A Your faculty of seeing was active, and intensified 
 
 by your peculiar physical condition, and the impression 
 was made by your guardian angel. 
 
 Lena, Is this the same kind of angel, that Mrs. Philos, 
 and the preachers at the Camp Meeting talked about so 
 much, and that they sing about ? 
 
 A Yes, I think it is the same. But they may have 
 
 different views of the angels. You have seen the Psycolo- 
 gist impress the minds of the boys and girls, when they 
 were awake, havn't you 2 
 
 Lena, I did once see something of that kind in New York. 
 He made them see all sorts of things, that no body else could 
 see. 
 
 A Well, that is the way that angels sometimes im- 
 press our faculty of seeing, when we are asleep — and some- 
 times when we are awake. 
 
 Lena. Is that the way you see things ? 
 
 A I think it is, sometimes. 
 
 Lena. Do you mean to say, that I, in my dream, saw into 
 the other world ? 
 
 A I think you had a glimpse of things in the Spirit 
 
 World. I have frequently had views of the kind, when 1 
 have been in quiet places like this. And I come here often. 
 
 [An Illusion of such a scene in colored Lights.] 
 
 Lena. I have observed you several times, here and in 
 other retired places, when you seemed to be almost asleep, 
 or dead ; and I thought I would come here again and see 
 you. But there is James, [pointing] with Naomi and Sol- 
 omon. Naomi ! Naomi ! Come and see the beautiful 
 wreaths I have made for Susie. [Naomi and Solomon ap- 
 proaching,] Don't you think she's lovely? [Holding up her 
 doll.] 
 
 Naomi. Yes. You make everything so beautiful. I 
 don't see how you doit. [Taking the doll.] I never saw 
 such a charming doll as you have made this. 
 
 Lena. O ! we shall learn to fix dolls prettier than this in 
 Heaven. 
 
56 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 Naomi. Do you think there are any beautiful dolls in 
 Heaven, Lena? I have often wanted one But mania thinks 
 it is not right for little girls to have dolls and other play 
 things. She says that children should be weaned from the 
 things of this world, and their thoughts directed, only to 
 Heavenly ones. 
 
 [James Brown approaches near and sits down.] 
 
 Lena. O! .But how could I be happy in Heaven, without 
 my little Fanny, and my Susie, and the flowers, and the 
 trees, and the birds, and the water, and the parks, and the 
 islands, and all the beautiful things ( 
 
 Naomi. But mama says our natures will be changed, in 
 this day of the Resurrection, and that we shan't G&r® for 
 the things we enjoyed in this life. 
 
 Lena. I have frequently had dreams of Heaven, and Mr. 
 Anderson says, I have actualy seen things in Heaven. And 
 I have seen in those dreams children that seemed happy. 
 They seemed to talk and sing, and play, and gather flowers 
 &s we do. 
 
 A [Aside.] Yes, Lena, it is all true, and you will soon 
 
 enjoy that beautiful home my child. 
 
 Naomi. Do you really think that Heaven will be as pleas- 
 ant for children as this beautiful island ? 
 
 Lena. O, yes, much more so. 
 
 [Enter Jerusha and Maggy, servant girls.] 
 
 Lena. [Addressing them :] I have been looking for you 
 some time. This is the place where Jerusha, and Maggy, 
 and I have been many times. We always have a good time 
 when we com« here. Now Jerusha, we want you to sing 
 one of those negro melodies and dance; and Maggy must 
 do something for fun. Naomi and Solomon, don't have a 
 chance to come out here often, and you must give us one 
 of your best performances. 
 
 Jerusha. Well, what shall I sing, Lena ? [Taking off his 
 hat, and arranging his toilet] 
 
 Lena. First sing, " I'm G'wing Home; 1 ' and I want you 
 to dance too. 
 
 [Lotiis Phillippe and his party approach, ( ) and 
 
 under cover of a bower listen, and observe Lena and her 
 party. And Sken-so-wa-ne, returning from a trip on the 
 river, with a light ashen oar in her hand, approaches tlio 
 party.] 
 
 Jerusha. Well here she goes. [Sings.] 
 "This world is coming to an end. 
 
TE'i ;i>. 58 
 
 j ; < -V . Says, : ■ 
 I'll scratch my shins, my jacket rend, 
 
 I'm 
 •; Whistl 
 
 I'm going to run clear out of sight, 
 
 Few days, few days; 
 And leave these naughty diggins quite, 
 
 I'm going home ! 
 
 [Jig as before] 
 For I've got a home out yonder, 
 
 Few day,-:, few days; 
 I've got a home out yonder, 
 In old Tennessee." 
 [Jig as before. \ 
 How is that for'h. 
 
 Applause by Lena. Solomon, Naomi and Maggy.] 
 Lena. Now sing and dance, Sailing down the Ohio. 
 •Jerusha. [Sings.] 
 
 1 ' The moon is up, the hour is late, 
 
 And down the stream the black girls wait, 
 Our tardy coming to prolong 
 The dance, the revel, and the song. 
 Row. boatmen row ! 
 We sport all night, by the merry moonlight, 
 Home with the girls in the morning. 
 Oh ! Oh ! the boatmen row. 
 Sailing down the river on the Ohio. 
 
 [Whistles and dances. Stella approaches and observes 
 the party ; and Louis Philippe and his party— but is un- 
 observed by them.] 
 
 Lena. Now Maggy, it is your turn. 
 
 Maggy. Faith, what shall I do '. 
 
 Lena. You must play, or dance, or sing an Irish song. 
 
 Maggy. Then I'll sing. [Sings.] 
 
 Soon beyond the harbor bar 
 
 Shall my bark be sailing far, 
 
 O'er the world I wander lone, 
 
 Sweet Belle Mahone. 
 
 O'er thy grave, I weep good- bye, 
 
 Hear, oh, hear ! my lonely cry. 
 
 ! without thee, what am I % 
 tone, 
 
 Sweet Belle Mah< 
 
58 the camp ^Rocnro.. 
 
 Sweet Belle Mahone ! 
 Wait for me at Heaven's gate, 
 Sweet Belle Mahone," [Etc. 
 Lena, Now, will Sken-so-wa-ne, favor us with a song' or 
 a story. 
 
 SJcen. I tell most of my stories in French or Mohawk, 
 as I am best acquainted with those languages. But I will 
 try and recite a little story in English from one of your 
 poets. 
 Lena. 0\ ti$ffl& will be nice. 
 Sken-so-wajrwe; [Recites.] 
 
 " In the wigwam with Nokoixris, 
 
 With those gloomy guests that Watched her, 
 
 With the famine and the lever, 
 
 She was dying, the beloved ; 
 
 She was dying, Minnehaha. 
 
 ' Hark !' she said, ' I hear a rushing, 
 
 Hear a roaring, and a rushing, 
 
 Hear the falls of Minnehaha, 
 
 Calling tome from a distance. 1 
 
 '"No T my child,' said old Nacomis, 
 
 ' 'Tis the mght wind in the pine trees !' 
 ' Look !' she said, ' I see my father, 
 Standing lonely in his doorway, 
 Beckoning to me from his wigmam 
 In the land of the Dacotahs L' 
 
 ' No, my cihld ! T said old Nacomis. 
 
 'Tis the smoke that waves and beckons f 
 "Ah !' she said, ' the eyes of Pauguk 
 Glare' upon me in the darkless, 
 I can feel his icy fingers 
 Clasping mine amid the darkness ! 
 Hiawstha ! Hiawatha V 
 And the desolate Hiaw T atha, 
 Far away amid the forest, 
 Miles away among the mountains, 
 Heard that sudden cry of anguish, 
 Heard the cry of Minnehaha, 
 Calling to him in the darkness, 
 4 Hiawatha ! Hiawatha !' 
 Over snow fields, waste and pathless- 
 Under snow encumbered brand] os, 
 Homeward hurried, Hiawatha, 
 Empty handed, heavy hearted, 
 Heard Nacomis' woaning, wailing:: 
 
 c Wahonowin ! Wahoiaowin I 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. V> 
 
 Would that I had perished for you, 
 Would that I were dead as you are 1 
 Mahonowm 1 Waflaonowin V 
 
 And he rushed into the wigwam, 
 
 Saw the old Nacomis slowly, 
 
 Hocking to and fro and moaning; 
 
 Saw his lovely Minnehaha, 
 
 ILying dead and cold before him, 
 
 And his bursting heart within him, 
 
 Uttered suck a cry of anguish, 
 
 That the forests moaned and shuddered, 
 
 And the very stars in heaven, 
 
 Shook and trembled with his anguish. 
 
 Then he sat down, still and speechless, 
 
 On the bed of Minnehaha, 
 
 At the feet of Laughing W^ater-, 
 
 At those willing feet, that never 
 
 More would lightly run to meet him, 
 
 Never more would lightly follow. 
 
 With both hands his face he covered, 
 
 Seven long days and nights he sat there, 
 As if in a swoon he sat there, 
 Speechless, motionless, unconscious, 
 
 Of the daylight or the darkness. 
 
 Then they buried Minnehaha ; 
 
 In the snow a grave they made her, 
 In the forest deep and darksome, 
 Underneath the moaning hemlocks ; 
 Clothed her in her richest garments, 
 Wrapped her in her robes of ermine, 
 Covered her with snow, like ermine; 
 Thus they buried Minnehaha. 
 And at night a fire was lighted, 
 On her grave four times was kindled, 
 For her soul upon its journey, 
 To the Islands of the Blessed. 
 From his doorway Hiawatha, 
 Saw it beaming in the forest, 
 Lighting up the gloomy hemlocks. 
 From his sleepless bed uprising, 
 From the bed of Minnehaha, 
 Stood and watched it at the doorway, 
 That it might not be extinguished, , 
 Might not leave her in the darkness. 
 ' Farewell V said he, ' Minnehaha ! 
 Farewell, O, my Laughing Water ! 
 All my heart is buried with you ! 
 
80 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 All my tfaoughts go onward with ] 
 Come not back again to labor, 
 Come not back again to suffer. 
 "Where the famine and the fever 
 Wear the heart and waste the body. 
 Soon my task will be completed, 
 Soon your footsteps I shall follow 
 To the Island of the Blessed, 
 To the Kinghom of Ponema, 
 To the land of the Hereafter." " 
 Lena. Now Jerusha., you must sing the Last Rose of Sum- 
 mer, and I will try and assist you, though I don't feel strong 
 enough after my walk, to sing very well. After that, we 
 better return, as it is nearly dinner time, and we must all 
 go the Camp Meeting this afternoon. 
 Jerusha. [Sings :] 
 
 " 'Tis the last rose of summer, left blooming alone, 
 All her lovely companions are faded and gone, 
 No flowers of her kindred, no rosebud is nigh, 
 To reflect back her blushes, and give sigh for sigh." 
 jJEct. Applause by the Utile company. ,] 
 Lena. Now let us go. [Exeunt ( ) ..] 
 
 [Louis Phillippe and his parti) enter { ) from their 
 
 place of concealment. J 
 
 Louis. That Yankee girl is a little brick. 
 George W. P. A perfect gem. 
 
 Leonidas H. J. She would be an ornament to a palace. 
 Napoleon V. Or grace the mansion of an old patroon. 
 Leonidas H. J. But that Irish girl, Maggy, suits me. 
 George W. P. She's one of 'em — you bet. 
 Leonidas. Let us hove something on that. 
 Louis P. Sam, pass up the liquid. 
 
 [Sam j. a servant, handset bottle to Louis P., andtaking 
 glasses from a lunch basket, hands them around. The bot- 
 tle is passed and the glaeses filled. I 
 
 Let us drink to the Star of this New Varieties on Ever- 
 green. 
 All. Here she goes. [Drink.] 
 
 Leonidas. But who is this star ? I say it's the Yankee 
 girl — she must be secured for a hundred nights. Louis Phil- 
 lipe, you can make that all right. 
 
 George W. I prefer the Indian girl. She's the Star that'll 
 bring down the houses. She's a duck. Let's take another 
 for her 
 
Xf). tfl 
 
 Louis P. Pass the bottle, Sam; and the next time you 
 come out, yon put in the opera glass. Don't fail ! 'We 
 must have the opera if that Indian 
 
 girl 'aint painted. There's a tinge of the roseon her check, 
 certain. Here's to the Indian Princ 
 
 [They all dri\ 
 
 Louis P. Now let us have a little entertainment. Wo 
 ought to have an audience, though. 
 
 Stella . \ As i< U\\ You have ( ■ 
 
 Louis P. Tune up, boys. [Si. 
 
 "Happy are • 
 
 We're the chaps to come to tea; 
 
 Blithe and gay all the clay. 
 
 Thus we sing and pi 
 
 Hurra ! Hurra 1 Hurra ! 
 
 We think not of the morrow, 
 
 Hurrah ! Hurrah ! Hurrah ! 
 Well banish care and sorrow. 
 Happy are we, light and free, 
 We're the chaps to come to tea; 
 Blithe and gay, all the day, 
 Thus we'll sing and play. 
 [Rise and dance a sort of figure as they sing the follow- 
 ing:] 
 
 Happy are we, light and free, 
 Blithe and gay, all the day ; 
 Care and sorrow, haste away, 
 
 Haste away ! 
 Happy are we, light and free, 
 Blithe and gay, all the day, 
 Care and sorrow, haste away ! 
 
 Haste away, away, away, away ! 
 Away ! Away ! ! [With a flourish.] 
 Louis P. Gather up the tackle, and the rest of the things, 
 Sam, and come on. We are duced hungry. Hurry up the 
 dinner. 
 
 [Exeunt ( ) Enter Stella.] 
 
 Stella. I am firmer in my purpose than ever. I will 
 never marry Louis Philiippi Duniont. [Exit. { ) En- 
 
 ter Slaughter.] 
 
 Slaughter. The only remedy against these young men, 
 is the Great Extraordinary Writ of Injunction. Apply to 
 Judge Slaughter of Counsel, 1001 Pino, Injunctions a Spec- 
 ialty. [Exit.] 
 
62 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 ACT III. 
 Scene. VI. [Leafy Temple, as before. Present — 
 Fielding and his family, Webb, Jerusha, Maggy, Ssella, 
 Skcn-so-wa-ne^ Louis Phillippi and his party, and Dr. 
 Philos o?z the Platform^ with diagra?ns illustrating gco- 
 ology in the rear, and a large audience seated. Dr. 
 Philos descends, and approaches Mr. Fielding, as the 
 audience applaud.} 
 
 Fielding. Your discourse on geology, doctor, has been 
 very interesting and instructive, and I trust that your ob- 
 servations may stimulate inquiry and investigation in this 
 field of useful knowledge. 
 
 Dr. P. Then I Shall be amply repaid for my discourse. 
 
 [Knots of persons in various parts of the arbor in conver- 
 sation. Louis and his companions observing Sken-so- 
 ivane.} 
 
 Leonidas. Now is your time Louis. Walk up like a man, 
 and carry out the resolution. The scion of one the money 
 kings of New York should'nt be afraid of an Indian girl in 
 the Valley of St. Lawrence. 
 
 Louis. Oh, I 'aint afrad of her. If you boys wer'nt here, 
 I should'nt stop a minute. But these Indians have so much 
 dignity. 
 
 George. I am ashamed of you, Louis. 
 
 Louis. Hush ! there is Stella. I must be cautious. You 
 know that I was engaged to her by mother. I have never 
 said any thing to her about it. 
 
 Napoleon. Never mind her. That thing is settled. It 
 is played out. What we want is some new excitement. 
 
 Louis. Well, here she goes. [Apjjroaclting.] Sken-so- 
 wa-ne, have you ever visited New York ? 
 
 Sekn-so-iva-ne. Nay, Monsieur. I have only lived on this 
 great river, and seen only the cities on its borders. 
 
 Louis. Would you not like to live in a great city like New 
 York, and in one of the great mansions there ? 
 
 Sken. Nay. I think I would like it here much better. 
 My home is here. Here my ancestor lived and died.. 
 
 L/Ouis. But the great cities afford pleasures not to be 
 found here. 
 
 Sken. Then why did you come here ? 
 
 Louis. I came here for variety— to find a maiden like 
 you. I propose to secure the island over there, and make 
 a charming home for me and my idol. Would you not pre- 
 side there as my Queen— my wife ? 
 
Tin: camp ground. 63 
 
 S&efi. I am ffee and happy now, and cannot consent to 
 limit that freedom and happines at present. 
 
 [Louis turns away and moves of in the direction of his 
 companions, who have overheard the conversation and are 
 indulging in laughter.] 
 
 Napoleon. She likes freedom, Louis. [Laughing, and 
 punching him in the side With his thumb.] 
 
 George. The Dumonts have no attraction. Bank stocks 
 don't win. [All laugh.} 
 
 Leonidas. Never mind, Louis. Try again. Stella may 
 give you the slip yet. [AM laugh* again.] She won't take 
 you after Sken-so wa-ne's refusal. 
 
 [Enter ( ) Slaughter and Judge Livingstone in co)v- 
 
 versation. Louis P. and his party listen.} 
 
 Slaughter. This in bound to be a success! It can't fail. 
 The Great Extraordinary Remedy, is the Magna Charta, 
 the Magmum bonum. It matters not how it is used. No 
 one can invoke this Great Extraordinary Equitable Reme- 
 dy, without securing a fortune— I might say a hundred 
 fortunes. It's great virtue lies in the fact that the fortunes 
 are sure, whether it is granted or denied, whether issued 
 or refused. 
 
 Judge L. It is quite remarkable what a purpose it serves 
 for money making. 
 
 S It is the same to the lawyer, to the office of your 
 
 humble servant 1001 Pine, whether it succeeds or fails. In- 
 junctions as a Specialty, is a success, These words were 
 the result of an inspiration in a time of gr^at mental and 
 pecuniary depression. I listened to the angelic voice that 
 whispered them, and I have seen the riches and the glory 
 thereof. They became my watchwords my success. 
 
 Judge L. It is wonderful what success they have with 
 this writ in the great metropolis. 
 
 S — Yes, it rules everything. It serves railroads. It 
 serves the money kings. It serves the bulls and the bears. 
 In short, it serves those who are wise. 
 
 Judge L. I see there are ^t£fe£ortunesin it. But the Bench 
 cannot participate. 
 
 S Ah ! there is where you are mistaken. The princi- 
 pal honor, and distinction and glory of the Bench of the 
 great metropolis, has been secured by the Great Extraor- 
 dinary Equitable Remedy. Many now on the Bench, and 
 some who having made fortunes there have retired, would 
 never have been known outside the city limits, except for 
 Injunctions. They have been the humble instruments 
 
6& TH; :'l\ 
 
 whereby hundreds of fortunes hare been made in a single 
 day. And this should be glory enough for any judge. 
 
 Judge L. This is a great temptation. But we have no 
 opportunities of the kind, here in this valley. 
 
 Slaughter. There is where yon are mistaken, apain. This 
 as truly virgin soil, ^and the yield should be prolific. The 
 grain is ripe for the harvesters. All you've got to do is to 
 walk in and gather. You want to start some corporations. 
 Organize! organize! That's 1 he Word. Use your resour- 
 ces! Use your resources, judge. Nature has favored you. 
 The smiles of heaven are upon you ! You have but to reach 
 /orth your hand and take the fruit. Injunctions is a for- 
 tune to any man. 
 
 Judge L. What about the Corporations ? 
 
 >S Y Why, organise ! organize !— Organize a company, 
 
 ia joint company, a joint stock. Call it the Thousand Isle 
 'Company. "Secure all the Islands ; put the stock on the 
 market; have the islands described as an earthly paradise; 
 advertise, and bull the market; and you have a fortune, 
 with the aid of injunctions Again, there are the cedars in 
 fche Wilderness. Organise the Camp-ground and the Wild- 
 neress. It will make an air line to the great metropolis, 
 open up the wilderness, and give the ceders a market. Then 
 Organize a Cedar Tic Company. There's a hundred for- 
 tunes in that. No railroad can be built without ties. Ce- 
 dar ties must be had or railroads fail. There are plenty 
 of objects for corporations in this valley. Open your eyes 
 Judge, and you must see them . When organized, take stock ; 
 hold a majority of the stock; control the companies; se- 
 cure all the important offices, and legislation if necessary 
 to accomplish your object — money. 
 
 Judge L. This is a grand scheme. But here comes the 
 camp-meeting folks. 
 
 [Mrs. Philos, leading ilte party as they approach, sing- 
 ing:] 
 
 " We shall meet beyond the river, 
 
 By and by, by and by; 
 And the darkness shall be over 
 By and by, by and by." 
 
 Enter ( ) party singing.] 
 
 ' l With the toilsome journey done. 
 And the glorious battle won, 
 We shall shine forth as the sun. 
 By and ad by." 
 
 [Etc. The Minstrels aj ing:] 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 53 
 
 "'"Ring the bells of heaven ! there's joy to-day. 
 
 For a soul returning from the wild ; 
 Sco ! the father meets him out upon the way, 
 Welcoming his weary and wandering child. 11 
 
 [Enter ( ) Minstrels as they sfa 
 
 Glory ! Glory 1 Glory ! how the angels sing, 
 
 Glory ! Glory ! how the loud harps ring; 
 
 Tis the ransomed army like a mighty sea, 
 
 Pealing forth the ransom of the free." [Etc. 
 
 j Webb, Maggy, Jerusha, Lena and others in a little group. 
 
 Webb. How did you like Dr. Philos 1 lecture, Maggy ? 
 
 Maggy. Dr. Philos should have been a praste or a pope, 
 and perform meracles, and have a place with the saints. 
 
 Webb. Then you believe in priest 3, and popes, and saints, 
 and miracles ■ 
 
 Maggy. And why shouldn't I belave in mericles ? Havn't 
 I seen the praist perform them in the old country ? 
 
 Webb. And what miracles did you see performed ? 
 
 Maggy. Havn't I seen the arm of a man withered at Don* 
 ning Fair, that was about to strike the praist f 
 
 Webb. How did that happen ? 
 
 Maggy. Why, the man was doing something against the 
 orders of the praist, and the praist slashed him for it on 
 the ground, and the man raised his hand to strike the praist. 
 But "thanks to the blessed Virgin, his arm fell, and he could 
 never raise it any more. It was known all about there-, 
 that it was a meracle that wrought it. Did n't I hear Fa- 
 ther Donegan praich a discoorse about it ? And did n't he 
 say such things was common in Ireland, and wherever the 
 Catholic religion was belaved. 
 
 Webb. But did you witness the circumstance ? 
 
 Maggy, Why should L Shure, it was known to all the 
 people that the blessed Virgin wrought the miricle. And 
 didn't the corpse rise at the w&ke of Michael Finegan ? 
 Didn't Mrs. Finegan complain that her husband had been 
 kilt, and thought the saints were to blame about it > 
 
 Webb. But- why do you worship the Virgin and pray to 
 her ? 
 
 Maggy. Shure, why should'nt we praise the mither of 
 God, and pray to her ? And will not her requests be granted 
 by her son ? Don't you pray to her '. 
 
 Webb. Well, not often. I think. But I have a mother I 
 could pray to, Dear soul ! How she loved me; How she 
 
&6 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 guided and directed my youthful steps, and prayed for me. 
 She was my star ! My angel ! She should be among your 
 saints, Maggy, She was goodness itself ; and whatever you 
 may think, I believe my mother was as good and lovely as 
 your sainted Mary. 
 
 Maggy. Shure, if there was no great difference in the 
 mithers, there's a vast difference in the sons. 
 
 [Laughter by the little Group. Webb Walks towards the 
 river, and Mrs. Philos leads Solomon and Naomi away, 
 and approaches Mrs. F. ] 
 
 Mrs. P. [To Mrs. Fielding.] Are you aware that you are 
 harboring a dangerous person in your household ? 
 
 Mrs. F. I am not. To whom do you refer ? 
 
 Mrs. P. Do you know that the simple girl Maggy, is a 
 Catholic ? 
 
 Mrs. F. I cannot say that I ever heard or thought any- 
 thing about it. 
 
 Mrs. P. that is what I expected. These Catholics are al- 
 ways suppi easing their dangerous religious doctrines, and 
 quietly insinuating themselves into Protestant families, 
 where they can serve as the secret instruments of their 
 church in propagating their blasphemies and superstitions. 
 
 Mrs. F. I have no knowledge of these matters. Maggy 
 seems to be a cheerful and happy and faithful servant, full 
 of wit and humor, and I would not suppose she was dan- 
 gerous. 
 
 Mrs. P. O, that's the trouble. I should feel so myself if 
 I had not read those valuable books on the subject, written 
 by faithful servants of the Protestant faith. No woman is 
 prepared to meet the wiles of the enemy, or properly guard 
 her own household, until she has carefully and prayerfully 
 read, Foxs's Book of Martyrs, The Harlotry of Papacy, 
 The life of an Escaped Nun, and the Life of Layola the 
 Jusuit, by a Protestant clergymen. These should be the 
 first books placed in the hands of children ; or perhaps I 
 should say, that they should be read in connection with 
 commentaries on the Scriptures, and expositions of the 
 doctrine of the Trinity. In this way their minds would be 
 properly prepared to meet the great enemy of souls. 
 
 Mrs. F. I will present the matter to Mr. Fielding at once, 
 and advise him of all you say. 
 
 Webb. [Returning from the river, holding some white 
 lilies in his hand, ( I enters.] I have a flower for you 
 
 Lena [Hands one of the lilies to her. i which I found near 
 the shore. 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. C>7 
 
 l.nm. Thank you. It is a sweet Lily. 
 
 Webb. [Approaching Mrs. Philos and her children, 
 
 Sings. ] 
 
 " Where the red deer leaps and the panther creep3, 
 
 And the eagles scream o'er cliff and stream, 
 Where lilies bow their heads of snow, 
 And the hemlocks tall throw a shade o'er.' 1 
 [Hands a lily towards Naomi. ' 
 Allow me to present one to Naoni i . 
 
 Mrs. P. [Jerking Naomi a little, an she holds her hand.] 
 Naomi don't care for flowers. [Glancing at the children.} 
 I am directing their minds to things celestial and that 
 fadeth not away. The vanities of this world are nothing, 
 Mr. Webb. Alf ! all ! is vanity ! 
 Webb. "Consider- the lilies of the field, how they grow;, 
 They toil not, neither do they spin ; 
 And yet I say unto you, that Solomon in all his glory, 
 Was not arrayed like one of these.' 
 [Holding up the lUy.\ 
 Mrs. P. I now feel more than ever before the demoral- 
 izing effect of the w T orks of Shakespeare. They divert the 
 mind from the contemplation of more important subjects. 
 Besides, it is evident that Shakespeare intended to cast 
 reflections upon the sacred character and wisdom, of the 
 wisest man that ever lived. His allusions to Solomon are 
 low and scurrilous. It is not the first time I have heard 
 infidels sneer at Solomon — the man after God's own heart, 
 and refer in a sarcastic way to his wives and concubines. 
 I maintain that Solomon was a righteous and perfect man ; 
 and I feel the pride of a Christian mother, in having a son 
 bearing his holy name. There is nothing in this world but 
 vanity. The flowers soon fade. But there is a w-orld be- 
 yond that is eternal. The inspired penman has referred to 
 it, as "The undiscovered Country, from whose bourne, no 
 traveler returns.'' 
 
 "This world's a fleeting show. 
 For man's illusion given," 
 says the Sacred Psalmist. Let me exhort you my friend to 
 prepare for death. It will come to you and to me. Be 
 ready to enter the pearly gates of the New Jerusalem. To 
 the faithful, 
 
 "O ! Death where is thy sting, 
 O ! Grave where is thy victoi 
 Webb. "O ! amiable, lovely death ! 
 
 Thou odoriferous stench ! sound rottenness ! 
 
88 THE CAMP GROUNP. 
 
 Arise from the couch of blastinp night, 
 Thou hate and terror to posterity, 
 And I will kiss thy detestible bones; 
 And put my eye-balls in thy vaulty brows : 
 And wring these fingers with thy household worms; 
 And stop their gap of breath with fulsome dust, 
 And be a carion monster like thyself : ,T 
 Mrs. P. Departs with Solomon and Naomi. [ 
 
 Come grin on me ; and I will think thou smilest ; 
 And buss thee as thy wife ! Misery's love, 
 O, came to me." 
 [Group. — Dr. Philos, Loveirell, Stella and others.] 
 Fielding. [To Dr. P.] Mrs. Fielding informs me that 
 Mrs. Philos has discovered that Maggy is a Catholic; and 
 considers that she is a dangerous person to associate with 
 Protestants — that they should be rooted out of all Protest- 
 ant families and their institutions suppressed. 
 
 Dr. Ph ilos. This feeling is the result of ignorance, and 
 the prejudice of a misdirected education. It is the spirit 
 that has fed the tires of persecution in all past a.ges. Mrs. 
 Philos, inherited a strong religious and devout tendency of 
 mind from her Puritan ancestors. The banished Church- 
 men hung Quakers, and the spirit of religious fanaticism, 
 finally culminated in the witchcraft drama. 
 
 Loveirell. Bui these extremes are among the things of the 
 past. Christian progress in these respects illustrates your 
 theories of evolution" applied to intellectual, social and re- 
 ligious life. We look upon the surface of things, and our 
 finite minds fail to grasp the infinite. In all this, there 
 probably was design — purpose. After persecution, a reac- 
 tion has generally succeeded ; the mind has received a high- 
 er light, and progress has been more rapid thereafter. It 
 may be God's method, to advance and elevate the world. 
 
 Fielding. I know there is much prejudice and hostility 
 felt by Protestants against Catholics. But I have great 
 respect and toleration for the religious views of all. 
 
 Slaughter. [Slaughter enters ( ) in conversation 
 
 with Judge Livingstone, and approaches F.\ I have just 
 heen talking injunctions, corporations, organizations, to 
 Judge Livingstone. I have had another inspiration. There 
 is a thousand fortunes in it— wealth ! honor ! distinction ! 
 glory ! And it is for you all to enjoy. 
 
 [Louis Phllllppe and his companions and many others 
 draw 7icar.] 
 
 Fielding. What do you mean I 
 
THE CAM!' GROUND. 69 
 
 Slaughter, rnj unctions, of course. It is the great idea of 
 the age— the Great Extraordinary Equitable Process for 
 securing fortunes ; without labor ! without trouble! without 
 
 risk ! Who does not enjoy riches ? It enables all to enjoy 
 life, to pursue pleasure, to accomplish results. To the phi- 
 lanthropist, it affords the means of accomplishing his benev- 
 olent desires. He can establish homes, asylums, hospitals, 
 reading- rooms, and associations. To the devout Christian, 
 it should be the great arm of his life. It enables him to aid 
 home and foreign missions, and tract societies— to build 
 churches, and sectarian colleges and seminaries— to build 
 convents, and cathedrals, and to support superannuated 
 ministers. To the scientist, it affords the means to pursue 
 his investigations — purchase instruments and pay his ex- 
 penses. With a fortune— a single fortune, he can visit all 
 parts of the world that the pursuit of his investigations, or 
 the interests of science may require. He may visit the 
 Rocky Mountains, the Andes, the Alps. With a hundred 
 fortunes, as easy made as one, he may found schools, col- 
 leges, museums, and observatories. And what a tempting 
 field of wealth there is for you my friends — for all of you. 
 And how recreant to every sense of duty you will be, if you 
 do not occupy it. I say God demands it ! Nature demands 
 it! Religion demands it! Science demands it ! Philanthropy 
 demands it ! Pleasure demands it ! 
 
 Dr. Philos. [Getting interested.] Where is the field we 
 may occupy and produce such results? 
 
 Slaughter. Organize! organize! I say organize money- 
 ed institutions. Corporations! Injunctions will do the 
 rest! 
 
 F What shall be the object and purpose of the cor- 
 porations? 
 
 S Various objects and purposes! It makes but lit- 
 tle difference what. The golden harvest is ripe ! Enter in 
 and reap! 
 
 F [Growing exicited with the rest.'] But where is the 
 
 material — the golden grain? 
 
 S My friend, you knew Judge Slaughter in the days 
 
 of adversity. You know him now in the palmy days of 
 his prosperity. The change was sudden. The thought 
 that brought the change was the result of inspiration. The 
 climax, a hundred fortunes ! I say organize! Form cor- 
 porations! The more the better. You have the elements 
 here for the greatest success, and you can control the 
 whole. The thought is intoxicating! Intoxicating! 
 
 Dr. Philos. [And all excited.] Tell us how and by what 
 
70 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 means we shall attain this result. I am sure that there 
 would be no impropriety in getting a fortune or a hundred 
 fortunes. 
 
 Lotiewell. Not at all where the purpose for which it is se- 
 cured is such as J udge Slaughter has suggested. Give us a 
 hundred fortunes! [Excited.] 
 
 Louis P. I would like one too, for a short time. Though 
 I have one, it is prospective — in the future. It don't serve 
 for pleasure or charity now. It scarcely pays expenses, 
 and I live in a tent. 
 
 Leonidas. I don't think we would any of us object. We 
 could find use for at least one every season. I go for the 
 fortune. 
 
 All. Give us a fortune. [Excited.] 
 
 F- I have retired from business, and proposed to 
 
 abandon forever the pursuit of gain. But your exhortation 
 has again revived my desire for more wealth — for charita- 
 ble purposes. 
 
 Livingston. I again feel an ambition to get riches. I find 
 I have wasted my time on the Bench. I have remained in 
 ignorance of the virtues of the Great Exraoadinary Writ, 
 that has lifted Judge Slaughter, from poverty to affluence, 
 from obscurity to distinction, and placed him among the 
 money kings of the great metropolis. 
 
 Slahghter. You have greater opportunities, my dear 
 Judge, than I had. Let me point out the way to a fortune 
 — nay a hundred of them to each of you. 
 
 Organize. 1. Thousand Island Company. 
 
 2. Camp Ground and Wilderness. 
 
 3. Cedar Tie. 
 
 4. Improvement. 
 
 5. Evergreen. You can't fail especially with the aid you 
 can secure from Judge Slaughter of Counsel, 1001 Pine. In- 
 junctions will carry you through to succes. The very name, 
 Thousand Island Company, will be a success. Camp Ground 
 and Wilderness, must receive aid from the connections mak- 
 ing it an air line to the great metropolis. Evergreen, must 
 be a success as a name. It is suggestive — always verdent. 
 Then it will have a substantial basis. What more fruitful 
 source of gain, or more worthy object, than the supply of 
 the great metropolis with evergreen-trees, for the ornamen- 
 tation of its parks and grounds — or boughs for festivals and 
 holiday decorations. Such an organization will receive the 
 patronage and blessings of every religions institution. Cecler 
 ties are a necessity ! Coder Tie Company, would rule the 
 market. Its resources would be immense. Its business 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 71 
 
 unlimited. Your fortunes arc sure. But mind you, use in- 
 junctions ! use them freely ! They arc after all the great 
 Bourse of wealth— the magnum bonum. Think of it ! Dream 
 
 on it ! Call a meeting my friends ! Organize ! Aet ! Re- 
 member this advice comes from one of observation and ex- 
 perience. Remember office 1001 Pine. Injunctions a Spec- 
 iality. [Exit Slaughter. I ) .] 
 
 Dr. P. This looks plausible. It is certainly very kind in 
 Judge Slaughter, to point out the way to our fortunes. We 
 must improve our opportunities. 
 
 Judge L. We must organize. Let us move at once in the 
 matter. Others may occupy the golden held, if we do not. 
 There's certainly hundreds of fortunes in it. [Excited.] 
 
 Lovewell. Those are my sentiments. We can suspend 
 our ordinary vocation for a time, for such a purpose. Let 
 us secure a "fortune at any rate. \ Excited.] 
 
 Louis P. I want a chance in. Ill take shares in all the 
 five. 
 
 George W. So will I. 
 
 Napoleon V. D. I want a fortune, I am bound to have it. 
 
 Leonidas H. J. And I— a hundred of them, 
 
 Naval Officer. [To Lou in Marc He.] I think we better im- 
 prove the opportunity. 
 
 Louis M. I think so too. The fortunes will come late. 
 But they are seldom made. 
 
 Fielding. I know that Judge Slaughter has made a large 
 one in a short time. He has come up in wealth like a mush- 
 room. Let us have a meeting — organise the five Compa- 
 nies — take the stock— elect officers, and make our fortunes. 
 
 Leonidas H. J. Three cheers for that. [All.] Hip! hip! 
 hurra! Hip! hip! hurra! Hip! hip! hurra! 
 
 Napoleon V. D. And for Judge Slaughter of Counsel, 
 [All] Hip! hip! hurra! 
 
 [All shake hands.— congratulate, and the young men 
 dance around for joy. Exeunt, ( ) except Webb.] 
 
 Webb. " This yellow Slave 
 
 Will knit and break religions ; bless the accursed ; 
 Make the hoar leprosy adored; place thieves, 
 And give them title, knee, and approbation 
 With Senators on the bench: this it is, 
 That makes the wappened widow wed again ! 
 She whom the spital-house and ulcerous sores 
 Would cast the gorge at, this embalms and spicey 
 To the April day again." 
 
72 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 \Enttr Fielding* Lena, and others [ ']. Lena ob- 
 
 serves James Brown on a seal near the border of tJic ar* 
 dor, ivccping\ She approaches him. 1 he others in con~ 
 vcrsation.] 
 
 Lena. What makes you feel go bad, James ? 
 
 James. I have received a letter informing me of the sud- 
 den death of my little Ida, with diptheria. 
 
 Lena. Is that the little girl you told ine about, when I 
 first met you at Duluth t 
 
 James. \ r es; she was my only child. 
 
 Lena. You said she was in Chicago. 
 
 James. Yes; she died in Chicago. 
 
 Lena. That was one of the beautiful cities we visited, on 
 our route here on the Neptune. 
 
 James. Yes. It was once beautiful to me; but it will be 
 beautiful to me no more forever. 
 
 Lena. I will go and tell papa about it. [.Leaves and soon 
 returns in'tJi Iter father,] 
 
 Fielding. Lena has informed me of the death of your 
 daughter. Then you had a wife and child in Chicago? 
 
 James. Yes; to whom I was much devoted. 
 
 F How long did you live in Chicago ? and where did 
 
 you formerly reside, and what is your name ? 
 
 James I resided in Chicago several years. I formerly 
 resided in the central part of New York, and my name is 
 James Brown. 
 
 F -James Brown ! What was your occupation ? 
 
 James. I learned the plumbers trade, and followed the 
 business several years in Chicago. I made the acquaintance 
 of my wife there, and there we were married. I left there 
 last spring a short time before I first met you at Duluth. 
 [ Seve ra I persons gather aro und a ! i. d I isie n . I 
 
 F Did you have a father in the army, in the la,te war ? 
 
 J Yes, and suppose he died in the service. At least 
 
 he was reported as among the killed in one of the battles. 
 
 F. What was his name ( 
 
 J George Brown. 
 
 F George Brown ; Why did you leave Chicago ? 
 
 J I went away to find employment, leaving my Avife 
 
 and child nearly destitute of money, and the necessaries for 
 a subsistence. 
 
GROUND. 73 
 
 P Bid you not inform your wife of the engagement 
 
 'to rae^ 
 
 James. Yes. On my trip here I mailed a letter at De- 
 troit, informing her of my employment and destination, 
 ■"and that I would remit Rome money to her as seem as I re- 
 ceived a month's wages. This I did. And in reply she 
 acknowledges the receipt of the money, and informs me 
 that Ida died of diptheria, several days ago. [Weeping. I 
 
 F This is sad indeed. Would you recognize a photo- 
 graph of your father if you should see one^ 
 
 James. I could not mistake it. 
 
 F [Drawing a memorandum book from his breast 
 
 pocket.] I have here a memorandum book, which I car- 
 ried with me during the late war. I then made the follow- 
 ing record: [Beads.] "George Brown, mortally wounded 
 an battle. Gives me address of his son, James Brown, 
 Syracuse N. Y. and requests me to inform him of his death, 
 ^livers me $251, and his own photograph for him. Brown 
 cued soon after— saw him buried V 
 
 James. Have you the photograph? 
 
 F Yes. It is .still here in this book. Here it is. 
 
 '[Handing it to James.] 
 
 James. [Looking at it.] This is my father. [Weeging.] 
 
 F [After a few moments.] On the trip here on the 
 
 Neptune, I went by the way of the rivers and lakes to 
 Chicago and Duluth, partly for the purpose of finding you. 
 At Chicago I found that you had departed only a few days 
 before. Although I secured your services at Duluth, it did 
 not occur to me that you were the party for whom I was 
 lefoking, and I have not learned your surname till now. I 
 have here an accepted draft on a banking house in New 
 York, for more than the amount received from your fath- 
 er. Take it, and send it to your wife, with an invitation to 
 come to you at Evergreen, where I can assure you, you 
 shall have a permanent home. [Handing draft to James.] 
 Lena, let us return to the mansion with James, and you. 
 oan there lie down and rest. [Exeunt, •< ) End of scow,} 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene 7. — Room in the mansion on Ere.rgreen. Lena on 
 a couch gazing out of the window. Enter Felding and 
 DrPhelos.] ( ), 
 
 Lena. Come and see these beautiful things papa. Don't 
 
74 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 you think we shall have such things in heaven ? 
 
 F I hope so. 
 
 Lena. Hear the music? The Neptune must be coming' 
 from the camp ground. There must be music and schools 
 in heaven, or how could little girls learn songs and beauti- 
 ful operas, or about astronomy and geology, and chemistry , 
 and find out as much about them as Dr. Philos 3 
 
 F True, my daughter. Little girls should study 
 
 these things, for thereby they will learn much relating to 
 the universe around them. 
 
 Lena. Little girls too, must have little things to play 
 
 ith; for until they grow, they can't sing and study all 
 
 the time. If little girls didn't continue to be little girls in 
 
 heaven, how could folks know them ? I want to be a little 
 girl in heaven, and sing and play with the other little girls 
 and boys. 
 
 F The camp meetieg closes to-day, and I am expecting 
 
 some strangers on the Neptune ; and Mrs. Philos, will leave 
 immediately, with Naomi and Solomon, for their home 
 near Boston. 
 
 Lena. But, they will come and see me before they go ? 
 
 F O, yes. Here they come. [Enter Mrs. P. with 
 
 Naomi and Solomon, ( ) .] 
 
 Mrs. P. I have come to say good-by. My Christian labors 
 here are ended, and I have important duties elsewhere. 
 Besides much local labor that I-must perform on my return, 
 I have as Secretary of the mission in India, and special 
 agent there, a great responsibility. And I expect to go there, 
 in the spring, and labor for my Master. 
 
 F As the doctor will remain here for some time, why 
 
 not let Naomi and Solomon stay with him ? They would 
 be such a comfort to Lena. 
 
 Mrs. P. I Feel the necessity, as a Christian mother, of 
 personally conducting Naomi and Solomon, through the 
 thorny paths of their young lives; and they must be under 
 my watchful eyes, until I depart for heathen lands. The 
 Neptune is waiting to take us over to the railroad, so good 
 by, Lena. I hope you will get well. Good-by Mr. Fielding. 
 
 Naomi. Adieu Lena. [Taking her by the hand.] 
 
 Soloman. Farewall, Lena. [Taking the other hand.] 
 
 Lena. I shall remember our pleasant walks together on 
 
 Evergreen, with Jerusha and Maggy,, and Sken-so-wa-ne, 
 
 and Mr. Anderson, and James, and the pleasure we took 
 
 listening to the minstrels, near their quarters. [Raising 
 
rHE ( \ m>. r, 
 
 on her couch and Jcis3ing them.] Farewell! If we do not 
 meet again here we will meet again on the other side 
 
 Mrs. P. Come on children, we must be oft'. I have import- 
 ant duties to perform, away. [Leads Naomi and Sol 
 away weeping.] 
 
 F [Fielding approaches Dr. Philos, icho is seated 
 
 away from Lena. Aside.] I spent nearly all of last night 
 with Lena. She is evidently growing worse, and I fear we 
 must soon be without her society. 
 
 Dr. P. I have noticed her growing weakness and phyisical 
 
 infirmity. I had hopes that this northern air, and her free 
 exercise here would effect a gradual recovery. 
 
 F I had a hope of that kind myself. But I have al- 
 most abandoned it. The severe trial through which she 
 passed with the scarlet fever, so racked the physical frame, 
 that It seems impossible, fully to restore it. The seeds of 
 dissolution were then sown, and the greatest medical skill, 
 seems unavailing to root them out. 
 
 Dr. P. Well, hope on my frind. It is some satisfaction to 
 know that Lena does not fear death. 
 
 F O, that's one thing that tends I think to aggravate 
 
 her physical difficulties. If she was determined to live, and 
 beat down the enemy that is undermining her health, per- 
 haps there would be a chance of her recovering. But as it 
 is, she is quite unconcerned, and as happy in the thought 
 of death, as she is in the society of her friends, or with her 
 little pets. 
 
 Dr. P. Her confidence in the hereafter and a blessed 
 
 condition of the spirit there, is wonderful. I wish I could 
 feel so. It would afford me great satisfaction. It is quite 
 remarkable what powers of reasoning she possesses on this 
 subject. 
 
 F- She seemed to have intuitive belief in a future 
 
 blessed condition of the spirit; and this innate feeling has 
 been strengthened if not confirmed by her dreams, by the 
 peculiar experiences and phenomena, of Anderson; and by 
 the experiences and beliefs of the minstrels, and of the In- 
 dians, as related by those she has frequently met here. 
 
 Dr. P. True. And these may well claim our careful and 
 serious consideration. I must admit that my attention has 
 not been directed to the importance of these matters, as 
 bearing upon the question of a future life, until I came 
 here. I have been for many years engaged in investiga- 
 tions in the more material departments of nature, but it 
 iioav appears to me that there are faculti id and 
 
76 THE CAMP ground, 
 
 subtle forces of nature but little understood ; and it becomes 
 us in the light of the revelations here made, to consider 
 their import. 
 
 F I am pleased to know that you have been impress- 
 ed with them. If they point to a hereafter, then they 
 must be cheering to a materialist like yourself, and not 
 less so to one who could form no opinion in reference to a 
 future life, like myself. 
 
 Dr. P. We shall have opportunities to consider this sub- 
 ject hereafter. I must go now and attend to some corres- 
 pondence. 
 
 [Exit Dr. P. ( ) and enter Webb ( ) unobserved, 
 
 F- [Soliloquising.) All must die! It is only a matter 
 
 of time. In the natural order of things the parent should 
 be the first to go. If he dies first then the child mourns. 
 If the child first, then the parent mourns. This is the way 
 of the world. But why mourn? Death is as natural as- 
 life; and if there is an after-life, can it be worse than this? 
 It is nature's order to rise— to advance. The facts relating 
 to evolution in nature, show progress, development. If 
 there is a hereafter, shall the human soul retrogade? It 
 cannot be so. There must be progress, if there is anything. 
 But is there anything? All religious sects affirm it. Are 
 they right' on this great central idea? Lena, with her 
 wonderful powers of analysis and reasoning, and intuition, 
 has affirmed that they are. O, sweet child of nature ! I 
 must, I will accept thy conclusions. On this subject thou 
 mayest be more correct than those older, and in other mat- 
 ters, wiser. The simplicity and naturalness of thy life, 
 may give thee an insight into spiritual truths, which are* 
 denied to those whose lives have been devoted to worldly 
 affairs and to the cold investigations of mere material na- 
 ture. I will do all in my power to make thy stay here 
 pleasant, and hereafter thou wilt find the gratification of 
 thy aspirations — a life that now exists only, in the highest 
 ideal of thy pure and innocent mind. 
 
 Webb, [To Mr. F ] "To die ; to sleep ; 
 
 To sleep perchance to dream ; ay, theres the rub ; 
 
 For in that sleep of death what dreams may come, 
 
 When we have shuffled off this mortal coil, 
 
 Must give us pause : There's the respect, 
 
 That makes calamity of so long a life : 
 
 For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, 
 
 The oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely. 
 
 The pangs of despised love, and the spurns 
 
 That patient merit of the unworthy takes, 
 
\T>. 7? 
 
 When he might bis quietus make 
 
 With a, bare bodkin? Who would fardels bear, 
 
 To grunt and sweat under a wpary life; 
 
 But the dread of something after death, 
 
 The undiscovered country from whose bourn 
 
 No traveller returns, — puzzles the will; 
 
 And makes us bear those ills we have, 
 
 Than fly to others we know not of!" 
 
 F And Shakespeare makes Hamlet to say : 
 
 " Lay her V the earth. 
 And from her fair and unpolluted flesh, 
 May violets spring. I tell the churlish priest > 
 A ministering angel shall my sister be, 
 When thou liest howling." 
 
 [Exit / 
 Webb. [Singing.] 
 "The cradle, the coffin, the robe or the shroud,. 
 Of which shall a mortal most truly be proud \ 
 The cradle or coffin, the blanket or pad, 
 O, which brings a blessing of peace unto all ? 
 The cradle or coffin, both places of rest — 
 Tell us, O mortals, which like ye the best V 
 
 [Exit W. End of Scene] 
 
 ACTIII. 
 
 Scene 8. — Another room in the mansion on Evergreen. 
 Lena on a couch near a window, commanding a view of the 
 St. Lanrence and the islands— gazing at them and the set- 
 ting sun. Mr. Fielding sitting near. 
 
 Lena. Do notice, papa, the beautiful sun-set. [After a 
 brief silence.] There, he has sunk down out of sight, but 
 his rays are reflected on the clouds. I shall soon set, too, 
 but like the sun, I expect to rise again. There are some 
 clouds bordered with golden fringes, and a sea of liquid 
 gold seems to lie in a valley; and there, [pointing] are some 
 mountains, that shine like silver, or the glaciers, that Dr. 
 Philos told us about seeing among the Alps. And notice 
 now the appearance of cities on the shores of the golden 
 sea, and towers and spires that rise on the sloping hill-sides; 
 and all so beautifully tinted with purple, and pink, and 
 orange. It seems as though I had seen such before in my 
 dreams. 
 
78 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 Webb. [Unobserved near the entrance. Aside.] 
 u Sometimes we see a cloud that's dragonish, 
 A vapor, sometimes, like a bear or lion,— 
 A towered citadel, a pendant rock, 
 A forked mountain, or blue promontory 
 With trees upon't ; that nod unto the world, 
 And mock our eyes with air. 1 ' 
 
 F Yes, I see all. It is the most glorious sun-set scene 
 
 I ever gazed upon. 
 
 Lena. I want to leave something like this behind me, af- 
 ter I go — something that will remind you of me. 
 
 F But you will not leave ue soon, my dear ? 
 
 Lena. Yes, papa, I feel that the time has come, when I 
 will lay off this poor, frail body of mine. But I do not care, 
 papa. I know I shall be happy, over there, and I hope you 
 Avill not feel bad when I go, or think I am far from you. I 
 have reason to think, that before the light of the sun shall 
 entirely fade from the western sky, like it, I shall disap- 
 pear, [uttered in a feeble voice]. Send for Anderson, and 
 James, and Jerusha, and maggy, and Aunt Han na; for I 
 would take leave of them, as though I were going back to 
 our New York home. I want to say a word to James about 
 his little Ida, and I want not only to talk a little with Aunt 
 Hanna, but to hear the Minstrels sing once more. 
 
 F Well, my dear, I will send for them. [Goes out— 
 
 Lena falls asleep. Illusion of Angels around her. Aunt 
 Hanna enters and Lena awakes. J 
 
 Lena. [Extending her hand to Aunt Hannah]. You have 
 shown me the way. There is a home for little girls over 
 there. I see the other home clearly, and I am going there. 
 [Aunt Hanna kisses Lena's hand which she holds. Enter 
 ( ) balance of minstrels, Jerusha, Maygy, Webb, An- 
 
 derson, and others.] 
 
 Aunt H. Blessed cherubim. 
 
 Anderson [Aside, sitting]. Yes, Lena is going. They 
 have come for her. There is Lotta. that Lena has so often 
 talked about. She has seen her in her dreams. And there 
 is Aunt Hannah's little girl, that was sold to the cruel mas- 
 ter down in Alabama. 
 
 [Illusion of Spirits — Enter Mrs. Fielding. James Brown 
 and wife, and others ( ). James approaches and con- 
 
 verses with Lena a moment privately, and retires, weeping.] 
 
 Lena,. Mama, let me kiss you. And Jerusha, and Maggy, 
 I want to kiss you. [Theg approach and hiss. ] I can't sing 
 with you now, Jerusha, but I will sometime Aunt Han- 
 
E I \M\' GROUND. 79 
 
 Bah, will you sin;; one of the Jubilee songs for me once 
 hio'-e ? [In a feeble voite. 
 
 Aunt If. Yes, my cherubim. [Mr. F. sinks beside Lena, 
 hisses her, and - head on herpillow. Minstrels .stay. | 
 
 " There's a laud that is fairer than day, 
 
 And by faith we can see it afar; 
 For the father waits over the way, 
 To prepare us a dwelling place there, 
 In the sweet by and by, 
 We shall meet on that beautiful shore,- 
 
 In the sweet by and by, 
 We shall meet on that beautiful shore. 
 Anderson. [Aside.) The music favors her easy exit. It 
 brings her into harmonious relations with spiritual things. 
 They appear natural to her— as she has seen them before in 
 her dreams. 
 
 [Minstrels continue to sing.} 
 " We shall sing on that beautiful shore, 
 
 The melodious song of the blest ; 
 And our spirits shall sorrow no more, 
 Not a sigh for the blessing cf rest. 
 
 In the sweet by and by, [Etc. 
 
 To our bountiful Father above, 
 
 We will offer our tribute of praise, 
 For the glorious gift of his love, 
 And the blessings that hallow our davs. 
 
 In the sweet by and by." [Etc. 
 
 Fielding. [Rises itp, glances at Lena, places his hand 
 upon her face and exclaims,} 
 She has gone ! Nothing remains but the cold form ! 
 [Exit F. ( ) covering his face with his handkerchief. 
 
 All gather around Lena, weeping . Illusions of spirits 
 around her,} 
 
 Webb. "We are such stuff 
 
 As dreams are made of, and our little life 
 Is rounded with a sleep. " 
 Minstrels. [After a few moments silence minstrels sing .] 
 "Some one has gone from this strange world of ours, 
 No more to gather its thorns with its flowers.'" [Etc. j 
 
 Fielding. [Enters ( ) with Dr. Philos and gazes at 
 
 Lena for a moment.] Only those who have been stricken 
 in this way can duly appreciate my sorrows. Death comes 
 to all in the course of time. But oh ! how desolate it leaves 
 the hearts of many, when it takes away the buds of in- 
 
80 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 fancy or the blossoms of youth. If it comes to the old— to 
 those worn out in the toils of life, it seems natural; but 
 when he gathers the young flowers of creation, human na- 
 ture revolts and enters its protest. [Sits down weeping.] 
 
 Dr. Phil os. But your philosophy in reference to death 
 should console you. 
 
 Fielding. The sensuous nature oannot be satisfied with 
 mere philosophy, under such circumstances. Among all 
 classes the emotions of our natures will assert themselves 
 •at such times. [Glancing ai Brown and his wife, weeping.] 
 But how many have been stricken in this way. Little 
 photographs and mementoes of departed innocence, hang 
 upon the walls of homes made desolate by their premature 
 departure. Truly the young, have to run the gauntlet of 
 many enemies, and comparatively few there are, that come 
 through the race unscathed and untainted. The voyage of 
 youth is beset by an army of diseases, and the young inno- 
 cents sink down in death but rise up again to everlasting 
 life. Thus it has been with Lena. 
 
 [Tableau of spirit illusions with Lena in the midst. 
 End of scene.] 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 Scene 9. — Leafy Temple as before. Enter Fielding and 
 Dr. Phil os ( . ). 
 
 Fielding. Have you not witnessed something Doctor, 
 during your stay here, to convince you of a life hereafter? 
 
 Dr. P. I have received some evidence that bears upon 
 the question and supports the theory, and I can assure you 
 the thought is not an unpleasant one. 
 
 F My attention has been more particularly drawn to 
 
 the subject since the death of Lena. I am confident that 
 she still lives and that she has those means of enjoyment 
 that are adapted to her nature and requirements. 
 
 Dr. P. I do not doubt it. But here comes Mr. Lovewell 
 and Stella. Let us take a walk. Exit F. and Dr. P. 
 ( ). Enter Stella and Mr. Lore well ( ). 
 
 Stella I have presented the circumstances of my engage* 
 ment by my aunt to Louis Phillippe, to my uncle and he 
 agrees with me that it it is of no binding obligation. 
 
 Mr. L. Then may I not hope to some day call you mine? 
 [Kissing her and taking her hand. | 
 
83 
 
 Stella. \ Gabin You 
 
 have said that your only earthly 
 
 idol. I cannot doubt your words, my heart is yours. On 
 conferring with nr our union, he 
 
 expresses his ap] 
 
 Lovewell, Then I g h?r again.] 
 
 Stella. But he insi with him. He 
 
 says that you can spend th< - York, where 
 
 yon can study, and pr< ' I employment^ 
 
 and the summers hen attend the camp 
 
 meetings, and enjoy the river home. 
 
 Lovewell. Evergreen is charming, and with you it will 
 be a paradise, indeed! 
 
 Stella. Who could not enjoy it ? 
 
 Lovewell. I have, when wandering along the shores of 
 this noble river, been frequently reminded of some beauti- 
 ful lines referring to it. 
 
 Stella. I should be pleased to hear you recite them. 
 
 Lovewell. [Recites.] "Ah, beautiful river, 
 Flow onward forever ! 
 Thou art grander than Avon, and sweeter than Aye^ 
 If a tree has been shaken, 
 If a star has been taken, 
 In thy bosom we look— bud and Pleiad are there.' 1 
 
 [Exeunt ( '), Enter F. and Dr. Philos ( ) ]. 
 
 Dr. P. I have just received a letter from Mrs. Philos, in- 
 forming me that she will sail for India, early in -the spring, 
 to labor among the people of that country, for thir conver- 
 sion to Christianity ; that she is now collecting images of 
 the heathen gods in stone and earthen, and securing trans- 
 lations of the Scriptures and other books into their lan- 
 guage ; that she will be compelled to leave Naomi and Sol- 
 omon with me; and I think it would be agreeable to meet 
 you here next spring, as you have requested, and bring Na- 
 omi and Solomon with me. 
 
 F I hope to meet all my old guests here then, and 
 
 that we shall be not only amused, but instructed. Mr. 
 Lovewell and Stella, will probably be married in the mean 
 time, and they will be here. 
 
 Dr. P. I shall anticipate much pleasure in meeting all. 
 (Exeunt ( ). Enter Livingstone and Slaughter ( )}. 
 
 Slaughter. As I have said, Camp Ground & Wilder- 
 ness will connect with Ramshorn, and this gives us an air 
 line to the great Commercial Emporium. The right of way 
 
gg THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 will be given ; the farmers and others will do the grading,, 
 and plenty of ties can be secured, all along the route, for 
 the cutting. It will open up the cedar forests, and bring 
 the Thousand Isles to the very gates of commerce and 
 wealth. I see the advantage. There's a hundred fortunes 
 in it for us. Islands will then sell by the foot like corner 
 lots, and the cedars are indispensable to railroad progress. 
 Now, having organized the five companies, proceed to exe- 
 cute the purpose, and you have a million sure. 
 
 Livingstone. But Camp Ground & Wilderness must be 
 ironed. Two millions will be required for this. How shall 
 it be clone ? 
 
 Slaughter. The easiest thing in the world, and a million 
 in each of our pockets. Besides on the success of this, de- 
 pends the success of Ramshorn. Ramshorn must aid. Pre- 
 ferred stocks of that company would be good, Let Rams- 
 horn authorize a loan to Camp Ground & Wilderness 
 to aid in its construction— say 5.000,000, for an equal 
 amount of Camp Ground & Wilderness common. Let the 
 latter authorize their secretary to transact the business. Let 
 him deliver the $5,000,000 Camp Ground common for equal 
 amount of Ramshorn preferred. Sell the Ramshorn pre- 
 ferred, and invest in Camp Ground & Wilderness, say at 
 20, temporarily of course, while negotiating for iron. The 
 5,000.000, Ram-shorn preferred, thrown on the market breaks 
 the bulls' horns and the bears claw in the margins. The 
 favorable connections of the Camp Ground, making an air 
 line to New York, the immense advantages of such a connec- 
 tion, the cedar forests, the Thousand Isles, the prospect of 
 the immediate completion of the road, and especially a fa- 
 vorable report from the secretary, bulls the market, and up 
 goes Camp Ground to 85, while Ramshorn preferred de- 
 clines to 35. Then the secretary can sell Camp Ground, and 
 re-purchase 5,000,000 Ramshorn, and fee has the original 
 preferred stock, and a net profit of over 2,000,000 to be divi- 
 ded. 
 
 Livingston. This is tempting. Is it practicable ? 
 
 Slaughter. O, this is common practice in the great me- 
 tropolis. It makes secretaries and directors, in the ring, 
 cheerful and happy. It is necessary to make confidents of 
 a few in such operations. Now Judge, you act upon my 
 suggestions, and as I said, a clean million apiece, is a low" 
 estimate. 
 
 Livingrton. I see: I have wasted the prime of my life 
 here. I must now act in another sphere. I will probably 
 meet you in New York i me. 
 
THE CAMP GF] 83 
 
 Rising to depart . j 
 
 Slaughter. Don't fail, Judge. Injunction is the Great 
 Extraordinary Remedy, at this time. It is the right-arm! 
 the jpaladium ! the Magna Chartal the maynum bonuml 
 
 the life of the money Kings, the Bulls and the Bears, and of 
 the Bench and the Bar. Don't forget the office; Judge 
 Slaughter of Counsel, 1001 Pine, Injunctions a specialty. 
 [Exeunt ( 
 
 ACT III. 
 "Scene. It). — [Sequestered place on Evergreen. Grave of 
 Lena. Conclusion of services. Present Fielding and fam- 
 ily, guests and others — Singing — tune Auld Lang Syne. 
 
 1 ' Her merry voice is strangely hushed, 
 
 And closed the laughing eyes, 
 Her gentle loving tender heart, 
 
 In solemn slumber lies. 
 
 Oh who would think that death would take, 
 
 The pearl beyond all price, 
 Whose gift it was to make of earth 
 
 A glorious Paradise. 
 
 The summer's sun and summer's rain. 
 
 Sweet flowers to life shall kiss ; 
 And thoughts shall bloom that she is free, 
 
 From sorrow such as this." 
 
 Anderson. [Aside. Yes, she is free from sorrow. She is 
 there with her little acquaintances. There is Aunt Hanna's 
 daughter and Ida, and Josephene, and near by is Ana-mo-sa. 
 
 [Spirit illusions of these parties, zvhile Stella and jfe- 
 rusha, and Maggy, place wreaths o/Jlowers and vines, 
 and evergreen sprigs on t lie grave. Exit company ( ) 
 except Stella, and Maggy, and jferusha, who sit down in 
 a bower near by, i?i silence. Enter ( ) Louis Phil- 
 
 lippe a?id his party of sporting men who laud near by, 
 and proceed on their way to their tents.] 
 
 Naploeon. See ! they have buried little Lena here. I didn't 
 think the old gent would do such a thing. The old Dutch ar- 
 istocracy, wouldn't do such a thing as that. We have too 
 much admiration for the dead. 
 
 Louis. P. You are right my friend. She should have 
 
THE CAMP GROUI 
 
 been deposited in Greenwood. There is where the aristoc- 
 racy are honored. [To George Washington.] Have you seen 
 the monument the old man put up after mother's death ? 
 
 Jerusha. [Aside.] I could tear those. snobs to pieces ! Ill 
 go and give them a piece of my mind. 
 
 Maggy. [Aside.] Hush let us take lessons. [Holding Je- 
 fusha.] 
 
 George W. I regret to say I have not been in Greenwood 
 for a long time. I don't like graves and tombstones very 
 well. I prefer speckled trout and sherry. [All laugh.] 
 
 Louis I Well, pass the glasses, Sam. 
 
 [Glasses and bottle passed and g lied.] 
 
 George W. Here's to speckled trout ! 
 Napoleon. To trout and sherry ! [All drink.] 
 Louis P. The old gent is liberal, like his son, when ones 
 dead. He has put up a splendid monument, and here is 
 what's on it now : [Takes a memorandum book from his 
 pocket and reads.] "Susan Dumont, born Dec. 3.1831. 
 Died March 1 6, 1875." In another place is engraved : [Reads} 
 '-Thadeus Dumont, born June 1(5, 1823. Died ..... .187 ." 
 
 How easy it will be to chisel out a figure at the end of 187 . 
 The old gent is expecting to leave soon. But he is just as 
 anxious to make money for his only son as ever. Well, 
 my friends, I shall have to go into mourning then for a 
 year, and keep away from the theatre, and such places, 
 you know ; but as soon as the time is up, won't we have 
 a glorious time? We'll have a regular establishment over 
 there on that island then, that will throw Evergreen into 
 the shade. Won't we \ 
 
 George W. That's so! You are a brick Louis! [All 
 laugh. ] 
 
 Louis P. The old man is a little stingy with me now, and 
 I can't .do much for my friends. We have to live here in a 
 tent ; but when that blank figure is chiselled, out on that 
 monument, I'll haul in some of them stocks and bonds, you 
 bet. I'll go for the Indian girl then. She can't resist me 
 then, can she boys? 
 
 Leouidas H. No, she likes the shiners as well as any of 
 us, or she wouldn't wear them diamonds and precious 
 stones. 
 
 George W. Or those bracelets, and bangles. 
 
 Louis P. She's my chick. Let us drink to the Indian 
 girl. [Fill glasses.] 
 
[E (AMP GROUND. 85 
 
 Napoleon V. That's right ; you are dry Louis. Here she 
 goes. 
 
 All. Hip ! hip ! hurra ! [ Drink. | 
 
 Lota's P. But I must keep my promise with Stella; she's 
 lovely in her way and draws all the intellectual old fogies 
 after her. But the New York aristocracy must have a few 
 such. They area kind of salt to preserve it from spoiling. 
 
 Leonid as H. J. [A king the grave.] Begad! here's 
 
 flowers. 
 
 Louis P. They are wasted here. They should have been 
 used at Greenwood. There thousands would have seen and 
 enjoyed them every day. It is so comforting to have flow- 
 ers there. It is a real. satisfaction. But no one will enjoy 
 them here, but us. 
 
 Stella. [Aside.] You are mistaken. 
 
 Leonidas. Well who are we, here? 
 
 Louis P. We are nobody. 
 
 Stella. [Aside.] That's true. 
 
 Louis P. {Continuing.] We can't occupy our true sphere 
 here, or perform duty to the dead. Where should we get 
 the crape, and the black kids? [All laugh and say, That's 
 so.] When the old man dies, I shall have to shell out these 
 things. I shall have to suffer for a year. But I will make 
 up for lost time, won't I ? Well, let's fill up again. Sam, 
 fill up ! [Sam fills glasses.] Here's to the old man — Du- 
 mont, the father. 
 
 George W. And the figure yet to be cut. 
 
 Napoleon V. D. I drink to that. 
 [All drink.] 
 
 Louis P. Gather up the fragments, Sam, and let us move 
 on to the tented field. 
 
 [Exit ( ) singing. Stella, Jerusha and Maggy, come 
 
 forth from the bower.] 
 
 Jerusha, If it hadn't been for Maggy, I'd a walked out 
 here and shaken some of that sherry out of those fellows. 
 
 Maggy. I wanted some items. We may go on the stage 
 yet; and if we do, we can show up these young men. 
 
 Stella. Let it pass. Let us scatter seeds of kindness. We 
 must sing something now, to calm the agitation of our 
 minds. 
 
 Jerusha. Well, here comes Mr. Lovewell, and Mr. Webb, 
 to assist us. 
 
 Stella. We are fortunate. Now join us in singing. 
 
86 THE CAMP GROUND. j 
 
 Lovewell. Well, you lead. 
 [Sing:] 
 
 ' ' Let us gather up the sunbeams, 
 
 Lying all around our path ; 
 Let us keep the wheat and roses, 
 
 Casting out the thorns and chaff; 
 Let us find our sweetest comfort, 
 
 In the blessings of to-day, 
 With a patient hand removing 
 All the briars from the way. 
 
 Then scatter seeds of kindness, 
 Then scatter seeds of kindness, 
 Then scatter seeds of kindness. 
 For our reaping by and by. 
 
 Strange we never prize the music, 
 
 'Till the sweet voiced bird has flown ! 
 Strange we should slight the violets 
 
 'Till the lovely flowers are gone ! 
 strange that summer skies and sunshine, 
 
 Never seem one half so fair, 
 As when winter's snowy pinions 
 
 Shake the white down in the air. — [Chorus. 
 
 Ah! those little ice-cold fingers, 
 
 How they point our memories back 
 To hasty words and actions 
 
 Strewn alone; our backward track ! 
 How those little hands remind us, 
 
 As in snowy grace they lie, 
 Not to scatter thorns — but roses 
 
 For our reaping by and by." — [Cho. 
 
 [Illusions of Angels during the singing — Lena, with a 
 doll, Lotta and others. At the conclusion Mr. L. and Stella 
 move off together; ( ) and Webb, Jerusha, and Maggy 
 
 also, ( ) in conversation. End of Act 3. J 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene 1. Evergreen the following summer. Drawing 
 room. Present, Fielding, Lovewell. Stella, with an infant, 
 Dr. Philos, Naomi, Solomon, Anderson, Webb, Jerusha, 
 Maggy, Mr. Whitney, and others. 
 
 Dr. P. [To Stella] Then your aunt died suddenly ? 
 
THE (AMP GROUND. 87 
 
 Stella. Yes. After her return to New York, last fall, she 
 became much interested in the religious labors imposed up- 
 on her, as the New York agent of the Women's Christian 
 Union. She had before been troubled with the heart dis- 
 ease; and the excitement of the meetings, which she at- 
 tended, and the labor she bestowed in the discharge of the 
 duties of that office, eaused a return of this affliction. Ee- 
 turning home from meeting one night, she had a violent 
 attack, and before medical aid could be summoned, she was 
 dead. 
 
 F When did you arrive here, doctor ? 
 
 Dr. P. Day before yesterday. 
 
 P Has Mrs. Philos departed on her mission to India? 
 
 Dr. P. Yes. She sailed over two months ago, and has, 
 probably, arrived at her destination before this time, and 
 is distributing the translated bibles and tracts, and the hid- 
 eous images of the gods in earthen and stone. 
 
 F Have you heard anything from her since she sailed? 
 
 Dr. P. Nothing. Though I have been expecting a letter 
 from her for some time. 
 {Illusion of spirits of Mi's, P., Mrs. J 7 ., Lena and Ida] 
 
 Have you brought a New York paper ? Perhaps there may 
 be something about the vessel, in the marine intelligence. 
 
 F — — Yes. Here is a New York paper of yesterday. Look 
 It over while I take a glance around Evergreen. 
 
 [Hands it to the Dr. Exit F. ( ) ]. 
 
 Dr. P. Your child looks like Lena. 
 
 Stella. Yes, that is a common remark, and Uncle has 
 named her Lena. 
 
 Dr. P. [Gazing at the babe]. It is the very pictue of her. 
 
 Naomi. I think so too. 
 
 Solomon. She has just such eyes as Lena. 
 
 Stella. Mr. Lovewell, suppose we take a short walk with 
 Naomi and Solomon, and give the doctor an opportunity to 
 read the paper. 
 
 L That, I presume, will be agreeable. 
 
 Naomi. Yes. Let me take little Lena, and we can have a 
 good time. [Takes the babe.] 
 
 Solomon. That's so. 
 
 [Exeunt all, except Dr. Phi,os, who looks over the pa' 
 per for a moment and then reads. \ 
 
 Dr. P. "Boston— Arrived from Hong-Kong, Ship China, 
 
88 TKE CAMP GROUND, 
 
 with a cargo of tea. Reports rough weather off Cape G-ood 
 Hope, and the loss of the Missionary, a few days before its 
 arrival at Cape Town. Fully insured. 1 ' [Drops the paper.] 
 Mrs. Philos sailed on the Missionary, but probably some 
 are saved. 
 
 [F. re-enters ( ) observes the paper and Dr. P.] 
 
 F What's the matter now doctor \ 
 
 [Dr. P. points to the item of marine news, handing the 
 paper to F. ] 
 
 Dr. P. Mrs. Philos sailed on that vessel. But I have 
 hopes that some of the passengers were saved, and Mrs. 
 Philos among the number' [ F. examines the paper. ] 
 
 F Here is another item about the matter. [Reads.] 
 
 "Loss of the Missionary. Further inquiry reveals the fact 
 that all on board the Missionary were lost, except two saih 
 ors, who floated to the shore on a mast. 
 
 Dr. P. Then all hope is gone. [Weeping.] I wish you 
 would inform Solomon and Naomi of the sad news. [Rises 
 to depart. ] 
 
 F Stay a moment. Your afflictions are light com- 
 pared with mine. You have Solomon and Naomi to com- 
 fort you. I have been bereft of wife and children. Solo- 
 mon and Naomi will be some comfort to me and I want you 
 and them to make a permanent home With me. We can 
 spend the summers here, where you can pursue your favor- 
 ite studies, and the winters in New York, where your chih 
 dren can have an opportunity for education. You have 
 been with me in my darkest hours and I want you to grant 
 this request. 
 
 Dr. P. But Stella's little Lena will be a great comfort to 
 
 Sou. She resembles your risen Lena, very much. I will 
 owever consider your request. [Exit Dr. P ( ) ]. 
 
 F [To Mr. Whitney, the Naval officer.] We shall miss 
 
 Louis Marsile, very much. What were the circumstances 
 connected with his death? 
 
 Whitney. Soon after your departure last fall, the health 
 and spirits of Marsile, began to decline. He frequently 
 conversed with me in reference to Lena, for whom he seem- 
 ed to cherish the tenderest recollections. He had it seems 
 on several occasions conversed with her, in reference to his 
 deceased daughter, Josephine, and had received much com- 
 fort and consolation from her assurances of his daughter's 
 continued existence, in a happier condition than this world 
 could afford. As the frosts of later autumn began to ap« 
 pear, he spent much of his time at the great cave. In my 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 69 
 
 walks I frequently saw him sitting on the flat rock, near 
 the entrance, apparently, in contemplation. At the 
 
 commencement of twilight one night, i quietly passed by on 
 my way from the lower end of the Island, and observed 
 him at the mouth, as usual. He seemed to be in an ab- 
 stract mood, and to be gazing up at the opening with a fixed 
 stare, and his lips were moving. I listened. "Do not go to- 
 night Josephine. Do not lei ■ ! >ne," muttered the old 
 man. I thought I would not disturb him and passed on. 
 The next morning I passed the same place. He was still 
 there, with his eyes fixed in the same position; but he was 
 silent. I approached him, he was cold and dead ! 
 
 F O what a devotion was exhibited, not only by the 
 
 daughter, but the father. On the same rock, nearly forty 
 years ago, his affectionate daughter's spirit went out, to 
 meet her affianced in the Spirit Home. Louis' soul seemed 
 entwined with hers, and for forty years he has seemed to 
 enjoy a sweet and happy communion with hers, at the 
 mouth of the great cave, where she laid down her mortal 
 life. Where did you bury him '. 
 
 Whitney. At the mouth of the cave, beside the remains 
 of his daughter. Those that remained here, were present 
 at the brief but appropriate funeral services, and many 
 tears were shed as we arranged wreaths of vines and ever- 
 greens, and autumn leaves, to cover his grave. 
 
 F [Weeping.] I became much attached to Louis Mar- 
 
 sile. Although he had passed many years in retirement — 
 in seclusion from society and the world, he retained much 
 of the noble presence and courtly bearing of the nobility of 
 France, among whom he was born and bred, and at times 
 exhibited all the vivacity common to that people. Let us 
 hope he is again united with the wife and daughter, and 
 has found that social comfort and happiness for which he 
 aspired, and which he hoped to enjoy with those sainted 
 ones in the land of the hereafter. 
 
 [End of Scene.} 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene 2. Leafy Temple. Meeting of the directors, officers 
 and stockholder* of the "Camp Ground & Wilderness" 
 "Thousand Island," "Evergreen," "Improvement," and 
 "Cedar Tic" compani aughter, Livingstone, Dr. 
 
 Philos, Fielding, Lot; is Phillippe and his party, Webb, 
 Whitney. Russel, Broun son and others. 
 
 Livingstone. Then our projects have all failed, and we 
 are ruined, 
 
Do the camp ground. 
 
 Slaughter. For the first time, the Great Extraordinary 
 Remedy has not succeeded. A reaction has taken place. 
 Judges have got rich, and retired from the Bench. The 
 Great Extraordinary Remedy has, under the reform in 
 practice, been shorn of many of its original virtues. The 
 mandatory clause has been discarded. It is now used 
 merely, as a negative. It prevents action. The payments 
 on subscriptions were small — the funds in the treasuries of 
 the Companies, too small to make much show. Stockhold- 
 ers of the Ramshorn enjoined the issuing of the preferred 
 stock, and the hard times completed the failure of our pro- 
 jects. I sank 500,000 in trying to carry it through. For 
 the first time since the office 1001 Pine opened, with Injunc- 
 tions a Specialty, there has been a failure of purpose, 
 
 Louis P. Is there no hope of that fortune? 
 
 George W. Of a hundred fortunes, you should say, 
 
 Dr. P. Yes of a million certain. 
 
 Leonidas. I want at least the one per cent I paid in. 
 
 Napoleon. I will have my fortune. [Strings his fists' 
 arouud. All excited.] 
 
 Slaughter. There is still hope my friends. Every man 
 will get a fortune, yet. The primary cause of the failure 
 was the want of coersive power in the Great Extraordinary 
 Remedy, under the reform practice. What we wanted was 
 something to compel action— to compel the issuing of the 
 five millions by the Ramshorn. This would have secured 
 the fortunes — would have secured each a million. But I 
 have again been impressed, I might say inspired. The vir- 
 tues of the Great Prerogative Writ of Mandamus, would 
 have saved us. This Great Extraordinary Prerorgative 
 Process, has remained dormant during all the War of In- 
 junctions. In fact it is almost unknown to the profession. 
 It must be revived. It will become a great power in the 
 making of fortunes. It can't be resisted, and it may com- 
 mand any act to be done that is necessary to make money. 
 Instead of merely enjoining, it commands ; and what it 
 commands to be done, must be done ! You will see its vir- 
 tues, and the office it will perform. The office 1001 Pine, 
 Judge Slaughter of Counsel, is preparing to change. We 
 shall insert in the place of "Injunctions a Specialty," 
 "Mandamas a Specialty." We will revive the Great Prero- 
 gative Writ, and our hopes are realized. There's a fortune 
 — nay a hundred fortunes in it for each of us, 
 
 Webb. "Will fortun come with both hands full, 
 
 But her fair words, still in foulest letters? 
 
 tnd'nofood, 
 
; CAMP GROUND. 93 
 
 Such are the poor in health ; or else a feast, 
 And takes away the stomach,- -such are the rich 
 That have abundance, and enjoy it not." 
 
 , Slaughter. Ah, we shall have both hands full— a fortune 
 —and enjoy it too. Injunctions, have it is true, declined. 
 They have almost gone out of use. But my confidence and 
 hopes, rest on the Great Extraordinary Prerogative Writ, 
 Mandamus. The < Pine, will commence anew 
 
 era, by the use of this Prerogative Remedy. Through its 
 Mandatory power, you must receive what it commands — 
 money ! fortunes ! honor ! distinction ! glory ! Mark the in- 
 spired words of Slaughter, of Counsel, there's a hundred 
 fortunes in it. 
 
 Dr. P. I am encouraged. 
 
 Fielding. Your former success with "Injunctions a Spe- 
 cialty/' gives me confidence. 
 
 Livingstone. The Great Extraordinary Prerogative Writ 
 of Mandamus must succeed. It originated in the exercise 
 of Royal Power, and could command anythiug to be done. 
 It is singular that the use of it has been neglected. There's 
 fortunes in it. Go on my inspired friend. Revive the 
 practice and we are sure of fortunes yet. 
 
 Louis P. Bully for Judge Slaughter ! 
 
 Napoleon. Hurra! for "Camp Ground & Wilderness." 
 
 Geo. W. I stand by "Cedar Tie," yet! 
 
 Leonidas. Now we are certain of a fortune ! 
 
 Livinystone. We leave all with you, Judge. [Rising to 
 depart] 
 
 Leonidas. Three cheers for Judge Slaughter. 
 
 All. Hi! hip! hurra. Hip! hip! hurra. Hip! hip! hurra! 
 
 Slaughter. I accept the compliment. Remember Judge 
 Slaughter of Counsel, office 1001 Pine, hereafter, " Manda- 
 mus a Specialty. " 
 
 [Cheering. All feel happy; and Lous P. and his friends 
 and others, dance around with expressions of joy, shouting: 
 "Fortunes!" "A hundred Fortunes!" "A million, sure!" 
 "Hurra for a Fortune !" !. 
 
 [Exeunt ( 
 
92 THE ('AMP GROUND. 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Scene 3. An elevation on Evergreen, and a view of the 
 St. Lawrence, and various islands. Webh, and. Jerusha 
 gazing upon them. 
 
 Jerusha. What a lovely scene ! 
 
 Webb. O, love makes everything lovely, Jerusha. Na- 
 ture's charms are heightened by my love for you. Your 
 eyes are brighter now. Your face is radiant with loveli- 
 ness ! Lightness and elasticity are in your steps, and on 
 your form grace and beauty sit enthroned ! But I hear 
 music from afar. Like the sweat tones of the distant shep- 
 herd's lute, it floats upon the water. [Listen.'] It is Sken- 
 so-wa-ne's voice. Sit, Jerusha! and let the sounds of mu- 
 sic creep in our ears and become the touches of sweet har- 
 mony. [Sit down upon a bank. Sken-so-wa-ne appears in 
 the distance, in her canoe, on the river, singing as shesloivlu 
 approaches Evergreen, 
 
 ' ' Away ! away ! the golden day 
 
 Beams brightly on the river. 
 And time beguiles where happy isles 
 
 Eest peacefnlly forever, 
 
 And smilingly forever, 
 
 Ever, 
 Where isles of green o'erlook the sheen 
 
 Of fair St. Lawrence river. 
 The silver sheen round isles of green 
 
 Upon St. Lawrence River."] 
 
 Ah, there's the bird that soars and warbles. A happy, 
 lovely bird ! 
 
 [Enter ( ) Napoleon Van Duzen, and George Wash- 
 
 ington Philbrick. ] 
 
 Napoleon, Have you noticed Louis Phillippe on the river. 
 He left the tent some time ago in his canoe, and we have 
 been looking for him. 
 
 Webb. But why should you look for him? If he is ever 
 drowned, it will be with wine, and not water. 
 
 Napoleon. His peculiar conduct and manners this morn- 
 ing, attracted our attention, and has excited our apprehen- 
 sion. 
 
 Webb. What was peculiar in them ? 
 
 Napoleon, Last night, in a little revel at our quarters, we 
 rallied him, as was our custom, in reference to his loss of 
 Stella, and his repulses by Sken-so-wa-ne, towards whom 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 93 
 
 ho has recently manifested a tender attachment. ITe 
 scarcely responded to our gibes. He failed to enjoy the 
 jeers, which were severer than usual, in consequence. He 
 
 did not sleep well last night, and this morning rose early, 
 and was moody and taciturn. Dressing himself he wand- 
 ered along the bank of the river, when he observed Sken- 
 so-wa-ne, as she pushed her canoe from the shore, and gli- 
 ded away, among the islands. We watched him and also 
 Sken-so-wa-ne, until she disappeared from view, He hast- 
 ily returned, dispatched Sam, with one of the canoes to the 
 American shore for some articles of food, and placing a re- 
 volver in his breast pocket, proceeded with the other canoe 
 in the direction Sken-so-wa-ne had taken, and was soon lost 
 to our sight. 
 
 Georye Washington. He seemed quite unnatural, and said 
 but little. In moods of mental depression, I have heard 
 him express a desire not to live longer. 
 
 Jerusha. It is strange, indeed. But there he is in his 
 canoe, under the branches, at the head of the island over 
 there. And there is Sken-so-wa-ne f Sken-so-ica-ne and 
 Louis are seen in their canoes.] Louis is gliding across her 
 track. 
 
 Yvebb. They collide, and he steps into her canoe. He as- 
 sumes an imploring attitude. He certainly loves the Indian 
 girl. 
 
 [ Webb turns his eyes to ferusha, and thay gaze at each 
 other for a moment. Louis suddenly changes his atti- 
 tude^ and drawing a pistol J~ro?Ji his breast pocket, Jires 
 it at Sken-so-wa-ne, as she rises from her seat She falls 
 into the river, holding her oar in her right hand. With- 
 out a struggle, she with the oar grasped^ moves down 
 with the current.} 
 
 Napoleon, He has shot her ! She is floating down the 
 river, still holding to her oar ! 
 
 [Louis Phillip pc immediately places the pistol to his 
 breast and f res it, and falls into the river o?i I he other 
 side of the canoe.] 
 
 Webb. There is another report, and he falls into the wat- 
 er. He is struggling! What shall we do? 
 
 George Washington. There are no boats near. 
 Jerusha. I will hasten to the mansion, and inform them. 
 Webb. Stay a moment. He has grasped the side of the 
 canoe ; and is trying to get in. Over it goes '. 
 
94 THE CAMP GROUND. 
 
 Jerusha. And he does not appear again ! Do you notice 
 him ? 
 
 Webb. No ! He has sunk out of sight. But the canoe, 
 filled with water, is floating down. 
 
 Jerusha. Now I will hasten and report to Mr. Fielding. 
 [Exst Jerusha ( ) ] 
 
 Naj)oleon. I still observe the body of Sken-so-Ava-ne, with 
 the oar. Is there no boat along this shore ? 
 
 Webb. None that I know of. But if you will step down 
 there and look for one, 1 will go to the other side, where I 
 will be sure to find one, and hasten to the scene of the dis- 
 aster. 
 
 [Exeunt ( ) End of Scene] 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 Act IV. Drawing room in the Ficldii?g mansion on 
 Evergreen. Mr. Fielding, Lovcwcll, ctnd Stella and 
 her infant, Lena, Whitney, Naftoleo7t Van Duzen, Geo. 
 
 Washington Philbrick, Lconidas Humbolt fanes, Mag- 
 gy, Doctor Philos, Naomi and Solomo?t, Aunt Hanna, 
 
 James Brown and Mrs. Brown, Anderson, Uncle Abe. 
 Enter ( ) Webb. 
 
 Fielding. This is indeed a sad calamity. Have you been 
 to the scene of the disaster, Mr, Webb? 
 
 Webb. Yes. But some time passed after the occurrences, 
 before I arrived there, and I discovered only the canoe of 
 Louis Phillippe, which lodged against the island. 
 
 George W. From the observatory to which I hastened, I 
 noticed at the head of the rapids a few miles below, what 
 appeared to be the floating body of Sken-so-wa-ne, and 
 something white near her, which might have been her oar. 
 It soon reached the rapids and was lost to sight. 
 
 Fielding. I have sent a message to the chief of the tribe 
 at St. Regis, informing him of the tragedy ; deploring its 
 occurence, and expressing my sympathy for her friends. 
 They will probably rescue the body from a watery grave 
 before it reaches that village. I have also prepared a tele- 
 gram for Lollis , father, informing him of the murder of 
 Sken-so-wa-ne, and the suicide of his son. 
 
THE CAMP GROUND. 95 
 
 II ebb. "One woe doth tread upon another's heels so fast 
 they follow/' It is quite time for a change, i Enter Jerusha 
 ( ) advancing to Webb, and he takes her hand. | Jer- 
 
 usha and I have become alarmed. Single men and maid- 
 ens are in danger ; and we are here to ask your consent to 
 our union. 
 
 Fielding. You have it freely. Join hands and we will 
 all witness the pledge. 
 
 \ Enter ( ) Mr. Slaughter. Mrs. Slaughter, and their 
 
 daughters, Susan and Jane, in gaudy apparel.] 
 
 Fielding. Here comes Judge Slaughter, with his for- 
 tunes. 
 
 Slaughter. Yes. Here they are ! [Handing Jane to Na- 
 poleon: and Susan, to George Washington; and all advance 
 toward the front, Dr. Philos, holding Naomi and Solo- 
 mon by their hands.] 
 
 Webb. [With Jerusha.] "All's well that ends well." My 
 Jerusha! [Embraces tier.} 
 
 Napoleon, [ With Ja ne. ] I have a fortune indeed. [Em- 
 bracing Jane. ] 
 
 George W. [with Susan.] I have another! [Embraces, 
 and kisses Susan.] 
 
 Leonidas Humbott. Where is mine? 
 
 Whitney. Take a hundred— in stock. 
 
 Maggy. Must I take mine in stock ? 
 
 Aunt H. [with uncle A.] My cherubims! 
 
 Mr. Slaughter, [with Mrs. S.] 1001, Pine, Injunctions a 
 Specialty ! [Embraces and kisses Mrs.\S.] 
 
 Mrs. S. 1001 pine injectings especially. 
 
 Lovewell. [with Stella and the infant Lena.] Our Lena, 
 still ! 
 
 [Gazing at the child and kissing it.] 
 
 Brown. [Embracing Mrs. B.] Where's our Ida? 
 
 Fielding. With Lena, in a life hereafter. 
 
 [In the rear a grand tableau of spirit illusions and spir- 
 itual scenes — Lena, Sken,so-wa-ne, Mrs. Fielding, Mrs. Phi* 
 los, Ida, and others. Anderson seated at one side, gazing 
 at it. End of Drama.] 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 PH. 
 
 016 103 730 8 *