PS 635 »Z9 S52 %/ ' A°" ^^/ •^'- %** • ^ o^.^^v^ V V " " ° \V v^ ♦o^o' .-^^ /5 > ^ 4 O I -HOME, SWEET HOME." | IN THREE ACTS. ' i^ CHAS. W. SEYMOUR ^ ICvi-rv line for himself. " — Sii.\kiv NKW VOIJK: rHlNTim KOI! TIJK AITIIOi; |;Y I-I.OCKIIART, HOOPER A- CO. Ill WILLIAiM STKI-.ET. ies ^' TMPS6-006421 HOME, SWEET HOME. ^/ImxMin^, Mr. NICHOLAS FLUSH (a Millionaire, aqed 83). LEOPOLD HAARBAUER, M.D., Ph.D. {an Eclec- tic in Medicine). Mr. BLAOKSTONE FORTEW, LL.D. {a Counselor a' Ij'vw possss-d of /he judicial mind). Mr. ARISTOTLE J. SHORT {a nephew of the eel- ebrated Grammarian). Mr. a. LEWIN GREENE (a pmng man of the period, livinr/ on hope). MIGNONETTE (one thM teas loved). MISS JANE FLUSH (sister of the Millionaire, aged 7S). Mrs. ARISTOTLE J. SHORT (a wife and a mo/her). MISS EDITH LEWELLYN GRACE SHORT (the eldest — who qe's him). MISS ELSIE DE FOREST NITA SHORT ( the youn'ies' — icho toai time to tink he can be on two sides of everytings— und be honest. Fort. Haarbauer, you liave never got over that case I com- promised for you. Dr. H. Dot's it compromise everytings. Fort. You were wi'ong, depend upon it. Now^ I dont like these continual insinuations. Why am I on both sides of "everytings,") as you ungrammatically call it? Is it my fault? Am I to blame that I am such a respectable Attorney that I am always retain- ed by both sides in every case of importance ? I am not ashamed of it ! It's a good thing for me, it just doubles my income, and its a good thing for my clients — although that is of minor impor- tance — for it insures them an attorney of equal aljility on eacli side. But to say or to insinuate that I cannot be honestly on both sides at once is false, sir. Lawyers like myself have what is known as judicial minds. They can talk with one party and ad- vise him, and talk with his opponent and advise him without any interest in either — without a grain of partiality for either — if the retainers be equal and paid. All our gi-eat jurists, sir, have been possessed of just this quality of mind. 6 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 1. Dr. H. All right, ve voiit quoroll, but die next time I lief a case mit lawyers — I lief vuii vat vill slitay on die same side mit me until ve get droo anyhow, my gracious ! Fort. No, we wont quarrel. We have too many interests in common, besides being very old friends. I wonder wiiat Flnsii wants us for? I've got an engagement: I dnnv old Watkins's Will last week. He died yesterday, his son retained me to-day to contest it, and the widow sent me word she wanted to see me on the other side, at nine this evening. Dr. H. Vot's die matter now mit dot vill, my gracious Fort. The old gei'itleman directed his executrix to provide a headstone for his grave, and John thinks it will be a useless expense. Dr. H. How much cost die iieadcheese ? Fort. Head.sto^p — Oh, tifteen dollars or so. Dr. H. Und how much cost die lawyers to break die vill — five thousand dollars, maylie? Fort. Yes, I should calculate to get that — out of the two sides. Dr. H. Veil— dofs i)isness ! (fi/^^er Jane, c, knittiui/.) J. {Comhig doiiui niul sitting l. o. ) Good evening. Doctor, — and Mr. Fortew. Brother will be here in a moment. Fort. Do you know why he has sent for us ? J. No, only I fancy it's something about his affairs — after his death. I think lately he's realized how old he is — and lie's been getting everything ready. Perhaps he wants to talk with you about me — when he is gone — liut he need not trouble his dear old head — for I couldn't last long then. Seventy eight years we've lived under the same roof — boy and girl — man and woman — brother and sister. Dr. H. Und such a sister, My gracious ! J. I have tried to be a good sister; he has deserved it. He has been a good brother to me all these years. Dr. H. How could he help et — my gracious ! Fort. Go it, old Chesterfield — what manners you've got ! J. Brother is remarkably smart for a man of his years, and considering all he's been through. Dr. H. Vy take vat I knows myself — two strikes of jiaralysis, lumbago chronic, and gout for thirty-nine year — und vet shtand Act l.J HOME, SWEET HOME. 7 ii],_liett clear. Vot a Constitusluui ! Dey make none such now. Villi leetle draft of air— unt die friends invited to die funeral. Your bruder may last mit care— vuii— two year yet— wlio can dell vot vill do my i)ad ! My gracious ! .J. He thinl-LS they do him good— with his magnetic trovvsers and galvanized undershirt — which, by the way, he sent around this morning to be more strongly charged — did you get it ? i)R. H. I suppose dey hef him in die Battery. I hef not been dei'e to-(hiy. .J. Brother says when he wears them altogether— they prickle. Dr. H. (delighted)! believe him. You hear dot mein frient? Do hombogs prickle ? Ha ! ha ! my gracious ! Enter Flush L., cane in hand, totters in rntlier feetdy and out of breath. J. fixes chair for him, L. fr., helps him carefid- ly into it — inds pillow behind his back and rest tinder foot — raising it tenderhj — all her actions (diout him fidl of care and solicitude. Mr. Fl. How d'ye do. Doctor? How d'ye do, Fortew? Thank you for coming. That will do Jane, you go now— I want to have a little talk with my old cronies here all alone— I'll call you if I want anything. J. {WhiS2)ers to Fl.) Fl. Oh ! very comfortable, I'll get along very well. J. {Erit ('., turning affectionately towards Fl. as she goes out. ) Dear old Brother ! Mr. Fl. Ah ! ha ! Tliere goes one in a thousand, boys ! Dr. H. One in a million — my gracious ! F(jrt. "Well, Mr. Flush, I am in somewhat of a hurry ; can we come to business, so I can get away. You sent for us — Mr. Fl. Yes, yes, one moment; my back is very lame to-day, Doctor. Ah. {rubbing it.) Dr. H. Perhaps die pads hef shliiiped — Mr. Fl. No — they haven't — they're all right. Well, I'm going to surprise you. I — I am — going — to — get — married! Fort, {much .surprised) By the Lord — Chancellor! Dr. H. {astonis7ied) My gracious ! Mr. Fl. ( feeling in his pocket ) Pshaw ! I've left a paper I wanted — in my room. I will get it. {rites slowly and totters out) Dr. H. Veil ! How's dot for a constitution ? Dot is die pad vot hef shtarted him, my gracious ! 8 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 1. Fort. We've nothing to lose by it. Tie's made no Will, so we'll lose no legacy, and — it may m cc business— more demand for pads. Ha ! ha ! And you never can tell what a marriage will do for the law — until both parties and all their descendants are dead, buried, and their place of sepulture forgotten. Dr. II. Ve vill seem i)leased, eh ? ► Fort. Yes, we'll smile and encourage him ? Dr. H. Vot old hombogs ve ar — ourselves. Fort. Nonsense, friends — old friends. Dr. H. Dot's vot I say — hombogs. (Mr. Fl. re-enters, l., loith a crumpled yellow paper in hand, and resumes his seat. ) Mr. Fl. I suppose you will think I am too old a man to have such an idea. Eighty-three years old — three months ago; but after all what are a few years so long as the heart keeps young ? Dr. H. Dot's it, mit your elegdric clothes — veil charged — you vill shtill talk as fast as any voman — dot is — most any. Mr. Fl. I have lieen all my life, as you know, devoted to bus- iness — bound down hand and foot, heart and soul to it. Sixty- two j^ears at the same work in the same place; no recreation, no leisure, until I gave it up two years ago. Well, I made a fortune, and a large fortune, and I made it myself, and I made it honestly. There is not a dollar of it that I am ashamed to-day to call my own. Dr. H. Dot's saying a goot deal now-a-days. Mr. Fl. Such a thing as marriage never entered my head until two weeks ago I was clearing out some of my oldest papers and I came on this {holding iip paper). What do you think it is? Dr. H. Some fly paper vot you carried your lunch in to school? Mr. Fl. No, a love letter. The only one I ever got {opens paper). "May 10th, 1812. My darting Nick" — I had forgotten that letter and its writer, and I have not yet been able to recollect the writer's name. It is signed "Your own Mamie." But when I saw it and read as much of it as I could decipher I had the same feeling come over me as when I first saw it. I felt my hear start up and thump and my cheeks burn. The first time they had even been warm m thirty years. A sort of thrill passed all through me, from my gouty toes up to my bald head, and suddenly it all seemed to come back. And while I could not remember her Act 1.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 9 na'iie I did re-iiember vau'uely two l)rown eyes, red lips, soft pink cheelvs and a voice that I h iv > not lieard tlie like of for sweetness or softness since. And I remembered how fond we w(n-e of each otlier. So fond tlial we even liked to go out in the ni'jiht air, in the moonshine to.ijether. I may be gettins; to be a l)articularly foolish old fool, but tliose tlioughts and feelings have stayed witli me since tliat day. They must have been only slum- bering all tliese years. In this old body of mine, shrunken and dry, the heart has grown young again and fairly leaps up against my chest now that I speak of it all. Dr. H. ■'It is die pad — my gracious ! Vot a great idea dot vos of mine! Mr. Fl. I don't care what it is. It has changed me. I have a i)nde in my appearance now. I don't tliink I am such a bad look- in.!,- fellow, take it all together, when my chin is clean. I find myself reading the ^marriage notices every morning. I have read tln-ee novel?— the first of my Ufe. One, called "Fair Little Ldian and Her Love Story," I finished without once laying it down, except to get the cramps out of my fingers, and to have my back rubt)ed. I walk out now on the street, among the shops in the after- noons and he ! he ! Now dont laugh at me, boys — I look at the girls. I f(>el like a gouty knight — a troubadour grown stiff' in the joints, or Mu- other fellon' who loves all lovely. women. And now it has all settled down into a purpose — to marry a wife — to bring a lovely woman here into my own house — for myself — one on whom I can pour out tiie tenderness that seems fairly welling up within me. I wanted to tell you this — and I want your advice. Now whom shall I marry? Dr. H. Veil dere's old Vidow Flopp. She moost vay now some 220 pounds. Fort. Th n-^'s old Miss Spine. She must be 65 and has had quite a legacy. Mr. Fl. I dont want any of your old widows, or old maids, or legacies. I have money enough for two. I want some one who is young and sweet, loving and artless, pretty and innocent.. "Who will come here to our home and brighten it up like sunshine. Who will cheer us with merry laughter, jest and song. Who will have bright eyes and a winning smile, and childlike manners — like Lilian, in tlie novel — like my own Mamie, in the love-letter, whose last name I have forgotten. 10 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act i. Dr. H. Vot a man to talk — my gracious. You almost make me feel like yourself. You shtir oop my old blood. And if I vas not a great-grandfader und my daughter und her grandchildren did not lif mit me I vould marry sometings so myself— my gracious ! Mr. Fl. There are plenty of young, artless and pretty women about now-a-days. Dr. H. Idelljou von — Miss Greene. lalvays vatch her^cross die street — She haf beautiful leetle foot, dot girl. Fort. You old sinner! What has a great-grandfather to do with pretty feet? Dr. H. Veil, a great-grandfader can hef his feelings, maybe — I tink — my gracious ! Mr. Fl. I have one young lady in mind — that is, one of two in mind, Aristotle Shorts' daughters. They are both pretty, sweet, bright loolving girls, only just out of school, and so must be artless, innocent and childlike. Fort. Ah ! They are pretty. I saw them only yesterday, walking down street. One with Widow Greenes' boy and the other carrying a little dog. They had cunning caps on, just alike, jauntily set on one side of their heads, little sacques trimmed just alike, and I could see their dapper little feet twinkling under their skirts like black stars in a sky of red Hannel — I could have kissed them. Dr. H. {bantn-i)i. uiid won't have till she dies, and she is only forty-two, Act l.J HOME, vSWEET HOME. 15 and you know perfectly well that the engagement is only condi- tional. If I can do any better, I am to do it. Elsie. Well. Edith. "Well. Diiln't you make a time about it till you gbt just as good? Didn't Pa have to go get you your dog, so that neither one of us should have more than the other ? And if it comes to that, you can have Lewin Greene, too, if you want him. If I can have the other. Elsie. Oh! Thanks; how kind. I wouldn't deprive you of the treasure. Edith. Well, Miss, you needn't stick up your nose at him ; he beats nothing all to pieces. Elsie. Does he ? I suppose that's the reason you thought it wise to take him. Edith. Ah ! Ah ! Smartie. You haven't had anything to ■take." Elsie. Well, I wouldn't have taken him, if he had proposed till he was black in the face. Edith. You would, you would, you would. Sour grapes • sour grapes ! {During this disciLSsion Mr. and Mrs. Short have been in earnest discussion) Mrs. S. Wiiat do we care for his comfort or his feelings, and as to that Elsie would be just as likely to make him happy as Edith, although, of course, you don't think so. {Enter Lewin Greene irit/i book in hand, rushes to Edith.) Greene. I got it, Edie, I got it, you're welcome. Edith, {impatiently) What ? Greene. Why, " The China Hunter's Adventures amongst Old Pots and Kettle-s," that j'ou wanted so much, with one hundred and fifteen pictures. I got the money from Ma. She said you were making me — or, rather, her— awfully extravagant. But I don't care. 'E.MiTH [impatiently pushing it away.) Oh! I don't want it now. I've something older than that to think about. Greene, {surprised, looking from one to another-) Why, any — anything wrong ? Mrs. S. Only a proposal has been made for Elsie, and, as usual, Mr. S. must have a discussion about it. Greene. Why, that's awfully jolly, Elsie. AVlio is it ? l(i HOME, SWKET HOME. [Act 1. KoiTii. II w.isii't male foi' Elsit^ any inort' than for ine. He has always said and writ^en, ••ono ()fy(iurdaaj,hters," without saynig which. Fie don't know us ap irt. CiKEEy {eac/eri>/]. Yes; 5ut gracious me, Edie! You couldn't go and accept any — any otter. You're-mine, you know. Editii. Xo, I'm not. You know perfectly well it was only coii- ditionil upo!i n;)thinj: better turiiiiiii' u\). and sometliini!,' i)etter has turned n\). Green". Yes; hut , you surely won't throw me overboard. Oh, please don't. After the heaps of things I've "iven you. or ratiier tliat ina has given you. Why, I've ^ot so used to coming here evenings and things, it would seem awfully funny to me not to. • Edith. Well go to Elsie; she'll luive you, she's so loving and sisterly and oliliging to-night. Elsie. No, I won't. Edith can keep you for ever and ever, for all I care. Slie wants everything — greedy. Green. Yes; Ijut Mr. and Mrs. Short, please think of me a little in this matter; I'm so awfully fond of Edie. I've told Ma that if anything should happen between Elie and I, it would drive me to something wicked. I ])eluve I'd smoke, ami that would almost kill Ma. Let Edie— (Mr. and Mrs. S. ?iave continued their di'^cussion.) .Mr. .< yimpaMently.] Will you ke^p (luiet, sir. Don't add to this pandemonium. It's eiraugh ta drive a man distracted^as it \r. Edith. AVell, I should think Pa might be master in his own house without all this talk. Mrs. S. Edith Lewellyn Grace Short, you are forgetting yourself again ! Elsie. And I shoulil think Ma might have her own way once in a while ! Mr. Short. Silence ! Mrs. S. Oh, no, my daugliter, your Ma has no right to any opinion: she is only tit to be turned into ridicule, to be made a butt of. (Bursting into tears, and gradually becoming excited.) Mr.S. (losing all patience) i^io\i—&'^o\>\ Edith, go tell them to send up a pail of water; the colder, the letter; and if that won't stop it, I tell you as sure as my name is Aristotle Short, I'll send word to the old man that he sha'n't have either; that we decline his otter altogether. Act 1.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 17 Mrs. S. {sobered.) Oh! You don't mean that. You can't mean that. I'll try to be calm, I really will. I feel I can control myself now. Why this is the one chance of our lives. You say thnes are so hard, and business dull, and you tell us we must be so economical, and all at once this ofter comes like-a-a rainbow of promise. I won't be naughty any more, Aristotle, only please don't si)eak al)out declining the offer. It takes my breath away. Mr. S. Well then, come to a settlement at once. He will be here at eight o'clock, and it only wants ten miimtes of it. There must not be one trace of this ridiculous S(|uabble seen. Mrs. S. . I don't know who is S(iual)ljling, as you inelegantly call it. Mr. 8. Oh, I am, of course, all by myself. Mrs. S. {coa.cini/fi/.) Now Aristotle, dear husband, don't be ill-tempered; let's settle this at once — you and me. Say Elsie, and I'll be a real good, amiable wife all the rest of my life — and never, never have a tantrum again, if — if I can help it. Mr. S. It would do no good for us to agree — look there ! (EoiTir and Elsie seen making faces at one another, and Lewin, in despair, watching Edith's every movement.) Edith. Well, I want him, anyhow ! Elsie. So do I, and I guess my wants are just as good as yours. Greexe. (complaining/)/.) But please, somebody, think of my troul)le. I can't bear to tiiink of leaving this familj' — it's a nice family, a real nice family, and I like to belong to it. Ml. S. {peremptorily.) Will you keep quiet? You don't belong to this family yet, and if you say one word more to add to this confusit)n, you never will ! (Lewix subsides, and bursts into tears.) Edith, {solibinr/.) I've always just longed and longed to wear mourning, and if I got the old man I would soon have a chance. Elsie, {sobbing.) And you know how bewitching I'd look in a widow's cap ; and I've longed and longed for that, and if I mar- ried the old man, I'd soon have a chance. (Door bell heard.) Mr. S. There. I thought so, he's come, and a pretty state you're all in. Confound it all ! It's just my luck ! 3 18 HOME. SWEET HOME. [Act 1. Edith. Well, I don't want to give him up. Elsie. Neither do I — and I won't — Sir. S. {savagely.) Then I'll tell you what it is, either you two girls settle this in a minute, while the old gentleman is •retting his wraps ott, and just as I tell you, or back home he will go just as he came. There is only one way left now. and that is to put him up ; to raffle for him Ijetween you, as you would fcir a sofa cushion at a fair. Mrs. S. Aristotle J. Short, are you mad? Mr. S. Yes, I am ; and I shall have a tantrum in a moment that no amount of cold water will quiet. I have spent no end of money on you two girls, your boarding schools, your music, and your art, and you haven't learned the first rudiments of decency yet. Mrs. S. On dear ! oh dear ! {dropping into despondency. &c.) Mr. S. Yl^v^— {taking coin from his pocket). I"ve got a trade dollar in one of my hands. It's a very good representation, to my mind, of the value of the gi'and prize we are all after. Now, choose — quick — which hand will you have? The one that gets the dollar shall have the husband. {Leu'i/i peeks around, trying to see where the coin is Great excitement. The gir/s protest.) Mr. S. I hear him ; I think he has started up-stairs — quick. now or nerer! Elsie. Well, if I 7nitst, — I take the right. Edith. I was going to say that myself — I want it. Elsie. Well. I said it first. Edith. Well. I said it second, and I'm the oldest. Mr. S. All right; if you can't even agree on that, home he goes. Elsie. Well. I want the right — ^I said it first, and I'm going to stick to it. if he does go home. Edith. Oh, take it. I'll take your leavings as usual; give me the other — the left. Mr. S. {Presenting hands, shows coin iti lejl.) Edith, it's yours — yours, my little duck, and just as I wanted it. Elsie. Well, take it — piggie — i^iggie ! Ah ! Gkeene. {In despair.) Oh! Edie, and ain't I going to have vou? What shall I say to Ma— what will Ma say to me? Act 1.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 19 EoiTH. Oh ! go away. Go to Elsie. She'll have you now ; I know her. Mrs. S. Well, I've seen disgraceful things, but this is the disgracefuUest ; and if I didn't hear him panting up the stairs, 1 wouldn't submit to it. But it's too late now, and we must make the best of it. Here, get into some sort of decent ))ositions, quick. {Thrusts Short into chair, c, and tosses him j^a^er; forces Greene in chair, l., and gives him the book brought by him, held upside down; 2^laces Edith on sofa, and Elsie on Jloor by her side; seizes a tidy from chair and paper cutter from table, and pretends to be huiily working.) Mrs. S. Now, you two girls, the moment he shows himslef, I want you to smile sweetly at each other. Now ! (Mr. F. appears at c, tottering in, and then stops, apparently pleased, contemplating the family picture- — Thegirls, who have been making faces at one another, smile the moment he airpears, and continue to smile as long as he stands there- ) Mr. F. Ah! A charming family picture. Home, sweet home. Mr. S. (Starting up as if surprised. ) Ah ! My dear sir, (shakes hands with him,) you startled me. Why, I had no idea it was yet eight o'clock. Mrs. Short you have met; my daughters Edith and Elsie; and Mr. Greene, I think, you know. (Lewin Greene eyes him ferociously.) Time passes very quickly in the bosom of one's family. Mr. F. Yes, yes; and such a family. It looks very sweet to me; smihng faces, busy lingers; peace and love and unity. Mr. S. Yes, sir, that's — ahem — peace and love and unity, Mr. F. You are a happy man, Mr. Short, and even my old eyes can see this is a happy, happy home. Mr. S. Yes, sir — a happy, happy home, {aside, ) and it's for- tunate his eyes are no younger. (He helps the old gentleman into a seat — Mrs. S. busies herself about him.) Mrs. S. Does it feel warm enough for you, my dear sh- ? Aris- totle, darling, perhaps you had better close the register in the hall, and there will l)e more heat here. Edith, my own, get the foot-rest from the other room. Edith. Yes, precious Ma. (exit.) Mrs. S. Elsie, my bird, where is the hand-screen, perhaps the light is too strong for Mr. Flush. 20 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 1. Flush. Oh! my dear madanie. (&*/fr ^mtii with foot -rest, which she places in front of him, and he raises one foot sloicly and places it upon it iinth evident pain.) Thanks — please don't take so much trou))lc. I am very comfortable, I assure you, and am charmed with all this generous attention. Mrs. S. Don't mention it. Mr. S. Don't mention it, sir, you are always welcome here. For years my wife and children and myself have been at a distance looking upon you with regard and admiration, as one of the few men who have come down to us — in a — with a — through a series of years in wliich for wliom — the regard of all — Edith, [aside to him.) Pa, you've lost your nominative. Mr. S. Yes, \Vs gone, {coughs repeatedly.) Oh! dear; I can't seem to get out of this cold, somehow. Mrs. S. Aristotle, dear, {motions with her head. ) Mr. S. Yes. You will excuse Mrs. Short and myself, Mr. Flush, if we now yield to the kmd wishes you have expressed to us, and give you an oi)i)ortunity of addressing our eldest daughter on the subject j'ou have mentioned to us. It will be a great surprise to the dear girl. AVe have carefully kept all suspicion of your purjiose from her. Mr. Greene, you and Elsie will please come with us. {A.'iide to Flush.) I wish you every success, but I cannot assure you of it. We long ago determined never to influ- ence our daughter's choice. Marriage has always seemed to us so solemn a thing, that no thought should be allowed to enter into the motives actuating it, ah — or their initiation — which that — not — is not — or rather, should not be — whenever — Edith. Pa, dear, {looking at him.) Mr. S. {Violently co^ighing again.) Matilda, darling, Fll take something for my cdugh, to-night. Mr. and Mrs. S., Elsie, Greene, and Mignonette ex- eunt, C. {Edith on sofa, R., pause. Mr. E., apparently a little flustered, takes out handkerchief and mops his head. Edith expressing in her face intense eagerness to have him begin.) Edith. It's been a pleasant daj\ Mr. F. Yes — yes; very mild and bright. Act 1.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 21 Edith. I like pleasant days better than stormy ones, don't you sir ? Mr. F. Oh, yes, yes, my dear — I do so. Edith. Yes, sir, so do I. {Pause continues.) Edith. Yesterday was a pleasant day, sir. Mr. F. Yes, yes ; so it was, my dear— yes— (appare^*/^/ cibseut minded, thinking of what to say — another paitse.) Edith. Day before yesterday was not very pleasant ? Mr. F. No,' no ; it was not — no. Edith. Day before that was pleasant, (aside) Why don't he begin? he caiuiot expect ine to do all the entertainin"-. Mr. F. My dear Miss Edith — your name is Edith? Edith. Yes, sir— 'Edith Lewellyn Grace Short. Mr.- F. A pretty name. Well, my dear Miss Edith, let me ask you if you will be so kind as to take a seat near me. I am not as young as I was, and cannot move about very freely. (Edith takes low chair, and sits near him on left.) Will you excuse me if 1 rub my back a moment. I seem to have a special knick in it to- night, (rubs.) Ah, you've never had lumbago, have you ? Edith. {Smilinj sweetlij.) No, sir, but I've often thought I'd like to. I— I — took a great interest in the subject when at school. It always iiad a fascination for me. Mr. F. {Looking at her admiringli).) (ai-id'^) Intelligent girl ! {aloud.) I've had it oti' and on for forty .years. You — have j'ou — ever thought anything aljout marriage ? Edith, {starting — surprised.) Oil ! No, sir. Ma and Pa have always been very particular not to let us think about any such thing, and sister and I never think of thinking of anything that Ma and Pa think we ought not to think about. Mr. F. No, no — of course not. That's a good girl. I like to see that; obedience to parents is a great virtue. And I like your simple and pure-mindedness ; it's a rebuke to the slanders upon this age. Some people are continually slandering it. Edith. Are they, sir? I suppose you will think me a very silly, ignorant child; but sivSter and I have been so brought up and kept at school and so on, that we dont know anything about the age, or the world, or any naughty thing of that kind. All we know about is what was in our books, and that we love our darling Pa and Ma, and that we love each other. 22 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act I. Mr. F. {Pitt'ing haiidl>ervhief to eijes, affetp d.) My dear, it artl'cts me to see such sweet, childlike love and innocence, and I onlj' wish my sister Jane could be here, and I am sm'e she would change her mind about you. Edith. Is your sister Jane like you, sir ? Mr. F. Yes, my dear, very like me in many things. Edith. Oh, then I do wish she was here, too — very much. Mr. {(tside.) Charming little bird. Well, my dear Edith, I have your parent's permission to speak to you about marriage, and to ask you to think about it. I want you to think about it now. If you should ever marry, what kind of a man would you select for a husband ? Edith, {coyly.) Will Pa and Ma let me think of that too? Mr. F. Yes; now would it not be a young man, handsome, strong, and full of fun and frolic and spirits, who would take jou out into the gay world, and till your cup full of it's pleasures? Edith, {looking off dreamily.) No, sir — that is not my thought; such a, one would not make married life what my ideal of it is, a home-life full of love, and peace and unity — home, sweet home! Mr. F. {aside, greatly delighted.) It seems as if I had happened upon the one girl in all the world for me. Edith. I think I shoidd take one who had had long experience of life; who had reached its full, ripe evening time — some one who would depend on me; some one whom I could care for, tend and nurse as well as love. It may seem an odd notion, but I have never known a grandfather, and have all the natural craving for such a one still unsatislied. Mr. F. {aside.) Charming, charming! Oh! if Jane were only here, how ashamed she'd be for the way she's talked about these girls, {aloud.) One thing more. Do you have any feeling when you think about it, that you would like your husband to have money, say a great deal of it, or you would not care to many him? Edith, {smiling sadly.) That is not my thought, sir. If he has money enough to rent an humble .cottage with a hon(>ysuckle creeping on the porch, it would be enough. Mr. F. {delighiel.) Well, EJith, I am thinking of taking a Act 1.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 23 wife, and I am soiiiy to ask you, altliou2;li I don't know exactly how to do it. Edith, {in calm and uneccitod tone.) Are you going to propose to me now — right away ? Mr. F. Yes — yes, such was my intention. Edith, {rtsin-j.) Excuse me one moment. {Exit, c.) Mr. F. Dear, dear, dear. This is the greatest piece of luck I ever iiad; to pick out, almost in the dark, the very girl suited for my wife; artless, natural, pure-hearted, loving, tender, and unseltisii. I re dly wish I had brought Jane along. Now Jane said in her excitement, that no one would think of marrying an old man like me, except some base, selfish, grasping girl, who would do it to get at my money. Oh, Jane, Jane, you don't know anything about the girl of to-day; and yet she will persist in thinking that she does, the dear old foolish thing. Edith enters with four duodecimo volumes in hand. Edith. I got the manuals for us, sir, to save time Shall I find the places ? Mr. F. Manuals? Edith. Yes. Society's Liturgy ; you must have seen it, sir. Has all the forms and uses of society in it, so you only have to read it like the Church Service. It saves ever so much time and trouble, and the beauty of it is yo i don't have to think what you are saying. We use them almost all together. We got them so that we would not make any mistake. Pa is very par- ticular about that in our language. You know his uncle was Professor Aristotle J. Short, the grammarian. Pa's very proud of that, and tiiinks we all have inherited some of uncle's gram- mar. Pa uses beautiful language, but is a great one to lose his nominative. Ma is a very tluent talker, too. I suppose she in- herits some of it by marriage. {During this Edith has been finding places. Hands book to Mr. F.) Edith. Page 32, Form 16, 1 suppose, is what we want. Mr. F. Ah, yes, let me put on my other glasses. Oh, my back, whenever I feel in my pockets. Won't you take them out for me, my dear? {she does so.) Thank you. Ah, yes, I've heard of these, I've seen one of them, the "Caller's Manual." It was left at the 24 HOME, SAVEET HOME. [Act 1. house bj' some one who called on Jane. Jane couldn't seem to get over it. She isn't up with the age, Jane isn't. And this is certainly an age of improvement. Do I begin '! Edith. Yes, sir, page 32. Mr. F. Ah, yes, let me see. Form l(i. *' Proposal of elderly male to young female party." Mr. F. (reads.) "My dear child, I have something to say to you which may fill you with surprise." EniTii. (rnnls.) " You have, sir, my best attention." Mr. I". (r('(fds.) "I desire to offer you my hand in marriage.' Edith, (retfc/s.) ''Sir! you astonish me beyond measure." Mr. F. {?-eaiTH. Just think; perhaps this time next year I shall be a widow; a rich, young, pretty widow. IClsie. I won't dance any more. You get everything, greedJ^ Greene. You've got me, now, Elsie, you knOw. Elsie. Bah! Let me alone; go home to jour Ma. Mr. S. Come, Elsie, no more ill-temper to-niglit. Mrs. S. AVell, you can't Itlame the child for feeling disappointed, Aristotle. It isn't in nature not to wish to be a widow if you can. Elsie. Well, 1 know what I hope. I ho]ie Jte'll lire forever ! Scene III. {The «/«;e.— Lewin Greene discovered on soja, holding Mignonette.) Gr. It ain't much fun to be engaged ; to have other fellows ofi" with your girl, and you home with the dog. I felt awful bad aljout losing Edie for nearly a week. I had just got so I could keep step with her when she took my arm, and then I had to go and learn that all over again, for every girl steps different from every other uirl, somehow. I don't know why she should. This dog is the worst of Elsie. She never can love anyl)ody but him, she tells me so all the time, and I know she can't. And I "ct awful jealous of him. He's my rival, that's what he is my hated rival, and it's mighty hard on me. Why some fellows o-et mad at their rivals if they just see 'em plaj'ing tunes to their girls under their windows. Ma's got a picture of it. I wonder how they'd like to hold their rivals in their laps all day, and comb their hair, and hold them up for their girl to kiss. It's enou<>-h to make a fellow crazy, when you come to think about it, and some of these times I'll get desperate, I know I shall, and just o-q and revenge myself. And I know what I'll do, too — I'll just put him down on the iloor, and let him take care of'himself ! Enter Mrs. S., holdinrj card, Jollowid hy Bridget. The 28 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 1. manticr of the former very obsequious, the latter hold and pre- snmiiK/. Mrs. S. AValk v'vx\\i in liore, Madamp. Be kind euouiih to sit down. I SGG l)y your card that your name i.s — Brid. [in lo>'(l voice.) Mis.s Brixh/et Berjorra ! Mrs. S. And you are introduced by Mrs. Livinijstone De Peyster Van Cortlandt. I aui proud to make your acfjuaintance. BuiD. (iKitroiitzingJy.) You've rather a nate liouse for a shmall one, l)ut I don't loike the pattern of your slitair-cari)et at all. It's awful ooijjly. Mrs. S. I am truly sorry. Wiiat position did you hold with Mrs. Livingstone De Peyster Van Cortlandt? Brid. Cook and companion. "Bid," says she — ^^she's al- ways a callin' nie pit names, we're so intimate togither — "they're lookin' for a lady in sarvice up to Broker Short's." So up I comes. Mrs. S. I need not say that the introduction is more than suf- ficient. "Wiiat I desire to obtain are the services of a French maid for myself and my youngest daughter. You could till that posi- tion ? Brid. Frinch is it? Listin to tliis: "Follywow — dam sell." How's that foraccint? Mrs. S. I've no doubt it's exceedingly i)ure. I'm not acquainted with the language myself. My daughters are, however, and my husband is the nei)]iew of Professor Short, the celel)rated gram- marian. Your i)ri!icii)al duty will be to wear a French cap and keep continually following us around with souuHhing over your arm. The fact is, we are altout to have a vei'y great ciuuige in our atlairs. Day after to-morrow our eldest daughter. Miss Edith will marry old Mr. Flush, the millionaire. Brid. Yis ; I heard j'our friends sayin' you had your hook in the ould fellow's gills. Mrs. S. We shall of course at once break up here, and go and live ui)on our new son-in-law; and our style of living will be very much improved, and of course a French nuiid becom(\s a neces- sity. ]~Rii)(iKT. If ye soot me, mum, the Frinch will be no ob- jiction. I'm towld they're a daicent paiple when they're sober and paiceful. Act 1.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 29 Mrs. S. I am ready. (Mores k'^r chair arouwl so a^ fo face Brtdcjkt, and (hrou-s herselfhack resiiinedly.) Have jou yoiu' Maiiiuil witli vou ? We Imve a set if you have not. Brid. Yes. mum. {PmdKchxj the Manual, finds jjlace^ r(^(ids, occ((sinn(dl!j vyuxj Mrs. S. sternhj.) How luiimy in tlie family? Mrs. S. Here tliere are four. Wlieii we move— Brid. {sternly.) Answer the ffuestion simple and plain, no whins, or ifs, or antls. Mrs. S. I hey; pardon— I will; six. Brid. Do you kape horses ? Mrs. S. We sliali. Brio. Whose convaniance is fu.st consu]te(l in the use of the carriages ? Mrs. S. The gentlemen and ladies in service, of course. Brid. Is it understood that the tooth-! irushes and itlier tilitt artichy belonging to the ladies in sarvice shall not be used by mimbers of tiie family ? Mrs. S. It is. ^ Brid. Has tlie ))ids of tlie ladies in sarvice piller shams? Mrs. S. They will have. Brid. Will — so far ifs satisfaetory ; liut you niver kin tell. I can't shtop now to go through with the ithers. Miss Van Cortlandt and me is used to take a little tayand toast togither at 8:30. Yer say yer hev a Mamial? Mrs. S. Yes, we have one. Brid. Well, just write out in a nate hand the answers to the remauiin 8() ciuestions, and sind thim around with yer card, and I'll look em over wiiin 1 git toime and consider your api)lication- Mrs. S. Vou ai-e very kind. Brid. If I sliiniM ((Hicliide to come wit li yer. I sliould i.xpict yerttMloallme W(.rk. Forly doilais a nmntii, Monday.s, AVidnis- days, Fridays, Sundays, and i very aiviiiing to myself. Yer sittin room, lilirarv, and luirinr lo he usimI in common betwixt us if we hajjpeii to hev company at llii' same tuime. You're to furnish all me dollies, and none of your lioine-made duds, aither. Not to be disturbed in tiie inorniu' aiiiier liiin 10:;50, and at all owers to \)ii trated like one of tlie family, (iood aivinin, mum. Is there hiy other way out, mum? I hate to hev to go over tliet oogly 30 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 1. sliliiir carpet agin. I've been attendin' some art lectures, lately, and it's that oogly it makes me hid itch. Mrs. S. Allow me, and I'll show you down the back stairs and to avoid it. Br. Is that yer bye, there, tindin dog? {referring fohnwi^i.) Mrs. S. That is a friend of the family, my youngest daughter's intended. Br. Wdl, I should tiiink it would be Hobsin's ciiice between the two of em, with the odds of two ligs in the dog's favor [e.veunt r Gr. There's nothing like one of them women to tone a person down. If I was Mr. Short I'd just keep one around all thti tnne, and set her on Mrs. Short whenever she has a tantrum. It took two pails of water, the other night, and then she did not stop till she'd torn the bosom out of Mr. Short's shirt. And just because he wanted to have some wine at the wedding breakfast, and she said it was sinful, and a bad example to be set by cliurch members. {Enter Mrs. S. helping Mr. Flush to chair hij table. ) Mrs. S. It's too bad Edith is out agani. She wouldn't go to the funeral at the Woodwiddies, yesterday, because they owed us a call. But they came around last evening and left their cards, and invited the girls to the Crepe party, to-night and said the flowers were so elegant, that the girls went. But they'll l)e home earlj-, if you can wait. Mr. F. Crepe party ? I'm such an old fogie, and know so little about young people's aflairs, that I don't really know just what a Crepe party is, although I've often heard of them. But I must learn all about sucli things now. Mrs. S. They're quite the style this winter. This is the fifteenth the girls have attended. They are given by the family to show ott' the flowers sent to the funeral. The rooms are deco- rated with them. Taey have round dances and a supper, and everybody wears a black crepe bow and black gloves. They break up early, as the family are generally tired with watching and riding to the grave, and so on. Mr, F. Well, I hope my little birdie is enjoying herself. Mrs. S. She deserves to. Never did I see such love and devo- tion. Yesterday I went up to her room to take u|) the Pert's wedding present which had just come in — a half pound of Act 1.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 31 caramels. 11 wasn't inucli for those rich iu'ojjIc, was il? When I saw, her reading, I just peeped over lier shoulder, and what do you think it was? Mr. F. {delighted.) T don't know, maybe the note I sent with the watch and chain. Mrs. S. No. Dr. Lamhert's "Essay on Longevity'' — "How Long can he Live ?" Mr. F. Dear little girl. Mrs. 8. She asks everybody slie sees if they know yon, and what you are worth, and where your property is. Mr. Y Sweet little bird. How louching such love is. I could sit for hours and hear you talk about it. Mrs. S. Did I tell you about Sunday week ? No? You know the Rev. Mr. Namm was at our church that day; our girls think there is no OTie like him. Elsie says if anything in the world could make her a devotee for life, it would be his moustache- Well, he i)reached a most beautiful sermon, all about tiie heathen and the ciictus Howers that grow lliere, and the ditl'erent kinds of humming l)irds they have. I saw several people crying vvlien he spoke some poetry about them. He always speaks some poetry, and this was beautiful; every verse ended "Hum and come, come and hum. ye humming birdF." Edith seemed per- fectly carried away. She leaned clear forward, and her eyes had such an intent look in them, that I didn't know but what the dear impulsive girl would get right uj), and start of!' for a missionary on foot. And I asked her afterward what she had been thinking al)out, and she said she was wondering about something; won- dering if your house had any encumbrance upon it, and how many feet it fronted on High Street. Mr. F. The dear, little, bewitching, practical thing ! To neglect the poor heathen for thoughts ol uie. It makes me very happy^ and she is so artless, and childlike and ingenuous with it all. Mrs. S. Yes, sir. We've tried to keep her so. Girls, now-a- days, are I)roug]it forward too soon. I never allowed either of my girls to go to a children's party, when they couldn't be home by midnight, before they were five years old. And Edith was nearly fourteen, when she graduated the oldest in her class. Mr. F. I see many evidences, dear Madame, of your car(>ful traini.ig; but it is getting toward my bed-time, and I cannot 32 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 1. bn>uk my hitl)it witliont fci'liiiLC tlic t'llW-t.s of it to-iiKirrovv and that will bo u busy ilay. \\iieii must 1 go lo the Ciuii-ch for tiic rehearsals, as you rail liicm '.' Mrs. S Two (>\'loc-k. ♦ Mr. F. And we reliearse the whole service ? Mrs. S. Yes, Dr. (iayltird called here this morning; about it. He said he would <;ive us three rehearsals, and a dress rehearsal. Benediction and all. He said if you ijot tireil you could he down in tlie front i)evv, between tlienj, and you had better take a pillow and ' your liniment, for probably your back will need an occa- sional rul)bing, ])efore you get :hrou:;h. Mr. F. Thank you. I'll be there. Ah, I thought then; was something else. I've brought a draft of my Will, as you and Mr. S. retiuested. Fortew drew it. I will execute it just as soon as we are married. It is just as we arranged it; everything to my beloved little wife Edith, and a simple request that she will provide for dear .Jane as long as she lives. Mrs. S. Edith will ])e glad of that. She said the other day that she hoped you would have the dear old thing left to her. We will look the Will over, and consult Mr. Fortew as our attorney about it, and send it to you as soon as possible. Mr. F. Yes, do so; and now I must say good-night. My very best love to Edle, and-a-a-kiss. I brought some (lowers fur her, and among them slie'U find a little note. Mrs. S. Oh ! you silly, romantic, dear old boy. She'll be delighted. iJe totters toward^ door— Mrs. S. fo'lmos. Mr. F. No, no. 1 insist, my dear Madame; let me go myself, ^lis time. I must act spry and look spry — for day after to- morrow I shall be a bridegroom — he-he-.lie ! {exit l.) Greene, {yaipning.) I say, Mrs. Short, ain't it most time for the girls ? It's awful pokey for me here. Mrs. S. {coriipassioiiatelij.) Yes, poor boy, I dare say it is, and Lewiu, I don't believe you will ever be rewarded for all your devotion, for I feel quite certain that as soon as we are all settled on Mr. Flusli, and launch out in the style we intend, Elsie will l^e able to do much better. Greene. Oh! Mrs. Short, don't talk that way. It takes so awful long to get acquainted with 9, new girl before you can keeip Act. 1] HOME, SWEET HOME. 33 step with her or ask her to marry you, that it would discour- age me awfully to have to hreak off our engagement. Enter Mr. S., hurriedly. Mrs. S. (quickly) Well, Aristotle, is it sold? Mr. S. Yes. I insisted upon it and it's sold just as it stands, furniture and all. Mrs. S. Well we are in luck lately. Mr. S. I had to make a great sacrifice though. Mrs. S. {starting) A sacrifice! What sacrifice? You didn't throw anything off the price, did you? Mr. S. No. I had to sacrifice our old friends. Mrs. S. Oh, pshaw, how you startled me. Mr. S. Yes, they got indignant and then angry, and said that if I insisted on enforcing the hard bargain, as they called it, and on taking advantage of a technicality and of their hav- ing had so much confidence in me, they would carry out the purchase, but that should be the end of all friendly relations between us forever. I told them I never allowed feelings to interfere with business, and so we've lost our oldest friends, but we've sold our house and furniture for a thousand dollars more than they're worth. Mrs. S. Well, the old fellow's been here drivelling again. He brought the draft of his will. There it is {handing it to S.) Now we want to be very careful to have that just right. Ah! here are the girls. Enter Edith and Elsie in full evening dress and black gloves. Edith, {throws herself on chair, l.) I am tired out. Elsie, {rushes up to Mignonette and takes him out o/Lew- in's a7-ms jiaying no attention to Greene) How has my little angel been since his mamma h^s been gone, kiss 'em — kiss 'em. Gb. {aside, grinding his teeth) That makes me maddest. To have to stand by and hear the kisses pop. {Aloud.) Elsie, did you have a good, jolly time? Elsie. Yes, only I got provoked. I was waltzing with Alfred Tennyson Jones, when his wife had to come up and tell him she had just got a message from their nurse that the 5 84 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act. 1. doctor had called, as they ordered, to see their baby, and pro- nounced it diphtheria. Well, who cared ? I didn't, and I am sure Alfred didn't, for he squeezed my hand and said "Deuce take it," in a tone which plainly meant, take the baby. And I am sure Mrs. J. didn't, for she said she was having a lovely time and wouldn't go at all, only some people had heard the message delivered, and she was afraid it would make talk if they didn't go, and anything happened to the l)aby before morning. I think he's lovely. I do love married men — to flirt with. Mrs. S. Why, Edie, you seem to be in the dumps. What's the matter? Edith. I have got the blues, that's all. A horrid thought has fairly haunted me for two hours. I was dancing a galop with Horace Porter. I danced eight with him this evening, bless the old lazy darling. He's got such a long soft beard to put your face against when you dance, and it always smells so nice and strong of lemons and mint and things. Well, he got telling me about his two sisters and himself, and how hard his old grandfather worked to support them. And I asked him how old his grandfather was, and he said he was ninety years old, and they hoped he would live longer. And then the horrid thought flashed right in my mind, suppose my old man should live on — and on and on — to be as old as that. Why that would be seven years! Mr. S. Well, darling, don't worry about it. Here's some- thing to cheer you up, the draft of his will that he left for us to look over. Edith. Give it to me {takes it). I'll take it up and read it in bed. Mrs. S. He is going to leave the old woman to you. Edith. Good ! I'll pay her up, the stingy thing, for send- dng me a mean old bed quilt for a wedding present, with a la- bel stuck on it to say it was all worked after her seventy-sixth birthday. As if we cared ! Good night {going). Mrs. S. Oh, Edith {nwckingly), 1 like to forgot. Here are some flowers and a love letter he left for you. ^■DWB. {carelessly) Just look in the letter and see if there is anything more substantial than love in it. Act 2. J HOME. SWEET HOME. 85 Mrs. S. {opening letter and lioldimj uj) to light) No. Edith. Then I don't want the old rubbish (exit l). Mr. S. Good, sensible girl. No romantic nonsense about her. Mrs. S. So she is. But you will find Elsie will be just as sensible, though of course you don't think so. Gr. (who lias Iiad 710 attention, MiGi^o^ETTE having absorbed ail) Well, I guess I'll go. Good night all. Elsie. Be around in plenty of time to dry Mignonette in the morning after his bath. Gr. Ye^, I will, {aside) I'm getting to hate that dog so that one of these days I'll — I'll twist his tail {exit). Elsie, {rising, holding iqj'MKmo^KTTE toward Mr. a?id Mrs. S.) Say good night to zoo own grannies, by-by, shakes zoo , paw {exeunt). Mrs. S. Aristotle, can you realize it? Day after to-mor- row! Mr. S. Edith married! Mrs. S. And I his mother-in-law. Mr. S. Well, Matilda, somehow or other it is easier for me to imagine that part of it than the other. ACT II. Scene — Room in house of Mr. Fi>ush same as first — 77iuch, changed in furniture and ornament — bric-a brae on walls, etc. Enter Jane, c. J. {e.vcitedly). Talk, talk, talk! scold, scold, scold! contra- dict, quarrel, wrangle and hammer from morning till night until I'm almost crazy. Not satisfied with marrying my poor, dear old brother to a chit of a girl in her teens, who cares no more for him than for the dirt under her high French heels — not SHtisfied with .swooping down upon us, mother and father sister and servant, 1)ag and baggage and dog — they must take complete possession, fairly turn us out of our own house, spoil 36 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 2. our plans, change our old habits and reduce us to the merest nonentities. When I appeal to brother he says, "Hush! hush ! It will all be right as soon as things get settled." When I speak to that chit, whom I have tried my best to like, but can't, she refers me to her ma. I haven't yet spoken to her ma. I'm afraid I can't control myself sufficiently to do it in a dignified way, the meddling, arrogant thing ! But I will, and when I do I shall speak plainly. Poor, dear brother, not a month married and yet almost driven to distraction — I know he is — but the dear, meek, patient old lamb never com- plains with it at all. Enter Bkidget, wearing French cap, and carrying a large old- fashioned soup tureen. Sees J. ; sticks up her nose scornfully and marches defiantly towards c.) J. {starting sternly) Stop ! (Br. pays no attention. ) J. Stop, I say ! How dare you touch that ? Take it right down stairs again as fast as you can go and put it carefully back where you found it. Br. {insolently) Excuse me, mum! But not being me misthriss nor me masther, nor aiven me great great grand- mother, as paiple moight think from the looks o' yez, I shant do nothin' of the soort ! J. {indignantly) How dare you speak to me in that manner? Do you know what you've got there? That belonged to my dear old great aunt, Mehitable Flush. Br. {insolently) Oh! Indade! I didn't no befoor it had come out o' Noah's Ark. J. It's the greatest treasure I've got in the house. I have kept it carefully for fifty years. I have never allowed it to be touched by anybody but myself, and I only use it on my brother's birthdays. And yet you have dared to take it from the cuboard. What in the world were you going to do with it? Br. Histe it on the wall, with the rist of the owld brickbats. J. {resolutely) Never. Between you all, you have robbed me of all the crockery I've got. The whole of the dear old dinner set we have used in the family since I was a girl has been scattered over the walls and ceilings of the house. Act 3.] HOME. SWEET HOME. 37 Br. And this is fur a cinter pase to some of 'em. Up she goes. Only I'm thinkin' they'll hev a high owld toime bal- ancin' this owl soker wid their tacks and mucilige. J. Will you obey me, or will you not ? Br. I will not. "Obey" is it? That's purtj^ langviage to me, the Frinch maid ! Now I doant care nottiu' abowt. this owld dish. I'm not purtikler about f oUowin' the directions of me own misthriss, who asked me to go and git it — but whin it comes to yer "obey," and to yer hollerin' as if I was a naiger or a haithen Chinee, I'd carry this here owld flower-pot through firg and wather, and thunder and lightnin', and hail sthones and blue divils to spite yer. Take that, you owld bane pole ! Obey, is it ? And to me ! J. (ciaide) I must control myself {with assumed calmness). Give that to me and I will take it down {starts for it). Br. No, I won't J. {fiercely) Give it to me this moment. {Lays hold of it with one hand and seizes Bridget's arm with other). Br. {relinquishing lier hold and hreaking loose — then arms akimbo) Oh, that's it, is it ! All right ! All right ! .list wait till I go an put on me thick soled shoes and thin look out fur yer owld quill shins {exit r. defiantly). J. {placing tureen carefully on table and examining it critically; then to c. and calls off excitedly) Brother ! Brother ! Brother Nicholas ! Mrs. S. {toithout l.) He can't come now. Miss Flush, he's up on top of the step-ladder helping us to nail up a row of butter plates J. {coming downij. c.) On top of the step-ladder when he can hardly stand upon the floor! He'll fall and break his neck to a certainty, and then I suppose they will be satistied. Oh, poor brother ! poor brother ! to what have you fallen — your old life l)lighted. the few years you have left darkened, and all hopes of a happy, quiet eventide dead and gone forever, and the only comfort I have in it all is, that I can say with truth " I told you so." Its pretty poor comfort, but it is always some balm to woman's heart to be able to lay those four little words upon its wounds 38 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 2. Enter Mr. Flush c. limping and rubbing 7iis back ruefully coming down L. c, sits. Mr. Fl. Ah ! Jane — my back — my back — my back! It seems as if it must be broken this time; but I've done a pretty good morning's work; eigliteen tea saucers; one dozen butter plates; four vegetable dislies and our old slop jar, have I nailed and stuck and tied to the parlor walls and ceiling since breakfast! pretty well for a man of eighty three, eh? Jane, didn't you call me? what do you want? J. {firmly) Brother, I want to know this. Have I any place left in this house ? Have I any voice here ? . Have I any rights here ? Ml'. Fl. [looking about nervously) Hush ! hush ! Jane dear, of course you have and always will have, and all will come right as soon as things get settled. J. Yes, that's what you always say, and I think things are pretty well settled now. It is settled that all the quiet and comfort and happiness are to go out of our lives. It is .settled that the rules of our house are to be broken and our habits turned upside down. It is settled that Mrs. Short is to be head and you and I to be foot. "* Mr. Fl. Don't speak quite so loud, Jane. J. Just look at the house, just look at the furniture! The old bureau out of the spare chamber, in the dining room — the old black dining table with its ugly claws and two kitchen shairs, in the parlor — what belongs on the floor put on theceil- •ng, what was made for the table put on the wall. That's housekeeping ! Mr. Fl. No, Jane ; it's art. It does seem funny to us old folks, but I suppose it's because we never studied it. You know, Jane, you and I are behind the age and mustn't set ourselves up for judges. J. Well, I nearly got my death by it last night, and I al- most wish I had. Mr. Fl. Why, how was that — you didn't tell me anything about it ? J. No. You'd gone out to dinner with your — your bride, and did'nt get home until midnight, how could I ? I went into the hall to get my shawl, which Mrs. Short had kindly Act 2.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 39 ■worn around the bouse all day without leave or license, and had thrown on the hat-stand when she went out. And the gas hadn't been lighted, and I came right up against something standing just in the middle of the ball. I put out my hand and caught bold, as I thought, of somebody's hair. I thought of course of robbers, and I screamed "Fire! tire!" at the top of my voice, and almost fainted away ; but I held on to the hair all the time with all my might. Mr. Short, who seems the best of the whole bad lot, came out, lit a match and sliowed me what it was — mother's spinning wheel that hasn't been out of the garret since we were children — and I had hold of some flax they had tied on the distaff. I could have cried I was so frightened and angry and ashamed. I should just as soon have thought of bringing the old buggy out of the carriage house and standing it there, exactly. And now, now the climax is reached — I have just caught their French maid, whose name is Bridget, but whom they call "Mahree," carrying off grand aunt's soup tureen. Grand aunt's soup tureen — just think of it! And when I spoke to her she became very insolent. Mr. Fl. That was a little vexatious, but don't make any disturbance about it. I'll ask Mrs. Short to forego the pleas- \ire of having it hung, or whatever they call it. I'll get her something else. J. I can forgive everything of that kind. All they do to the house that I have kept in such order for half a century, even the attempt to desecrate my soup-tureen, now that I have got it back safely, but I can't forgive their making you un- happy and miserable, as I know they are making you, al- though you try to hide it from me. " Mr. Fl. {with assumed cheerfulness) No, no, Jane, you are mistaken — I am happy, very, very happy. That is, I would be, if Edith and you and I were living alone together here in our old peaceful fashion as I hoped we would. But since her family have chosen to come here we must make the best of it, Jane. We mustn't be wanting in hospitality, or do anything to hurt Edith's feelings, or say anything to offend Mrs. Short. For my impression is, Jane, but it's only an impression, that Mrs. Short's temper is perhaps a little hasty. 40 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 2. Enter Lewin Greene c. , carrying Mignonette. Gr . Excuse me, Mr. Flush and Miss Flush ; I meixn Miss Flush and Mr. Flush ; ma says I must always speak to the lady first ; Elsie says I must stay in here, for Mignonette's nose runs, and she's afraid the noise of the hammering is making his head ache. I say, would you or your sister mind holding him for a moment, while I work my arm ; it feels awfully funny. I haven't had a chance to put him down since bath- time. Mr. Fl. {kindly) Oh! yes; give him to me (Gr. does so, and. then exercises Jiisarm). Gr. Thank you. You are a very nice old man, and I don't see anything the matter with you at all. Of course I was down on you a little for cutting me out with Edie just after I'd learned to keep step with her; but I forgave j^ou that, and I didn't see but what you acted all right about it. But you never can tell J, What is this boy chattering about? Mr. Fl. Hush, Jane; maybe I've done something to offend them. Maybe I've made some blunder from not knowing the ways of the world now-a-days. I sometimes think I have. I sometimes fancy I see a difference in Edith and her mother. Iv'e tried to be very careful. Enter Elsie c, sees Gr. e.rercising ; looks hurriedly around; sees Mignonette in Mr. F. 's lap; rushes tip and snatches him Ttcdely, and speaks very angrily. Elsie. You horrid old man, you; don't you ever dare to touch my dog again. I don't allow anybody to do it. It's a nice state of affairs if everything we've got has to be handled and meddled with, and we can't have anything of our own, or do anything we please. Mr. Fl. Oh ! my dear. I Elsie. I don't want to hear you talk about it. And, Lewin, if you ever dare to let Mignonette out of your arms again I'll slap you right in the face and never speak to you again, never — never — never! {Throios herself on sofa, panting and angry.) Enter Bridget l. {scoicUng fiercely). Act 2.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 41 Br. Where is slie '? Where is the owld number foive darnin' naidle? Oh ! there ye are. Are you riddy ? Mr. Fl. {soothingly) There, there, my good girl ; it's all right. We've settled the whole matter. You were not to blame at all ; so don't say anything more about it. Br. {sneeringly) Oh — is — your dry lung a workin' now? And am I to be towld what to do by another owld bone and grizzle ? I won't shtand it ; do yer hear {very loud) ? I won't shtand it I Mr. Fl. Well, well ; I have — I haven't said anything to hurt 3'our feelings. Please don't raise your voice ; I'll see that it's all right with Mrs. Short. Br. Whose raisin' her vice ? {raising it louder) Whose raisin' her vice ? Taichin me manners, is it V Why, I got moore braidin in one lash of me lift eye than you two owld, dry shkinny shtalks hev in the two of yer crops put togither {raises her voice) putt togither ! Elsie. Lewin, go tell ma to come here. Mr. Fl. {hurriedly) No, no ; now, please don't do anything of the sort. Don't disturb her ; I don't mind it at all. It amuses me, and I rather like it — he ! he ! Elsie {rising and stamjnng Jier foot, paying no attention to Mr. Fl.) Did you hear me speak, Lewin ? Go and tell ma to come here! It's a great thing if even poor Mahree has to be scolded and found fault with all the time. {Exit Greene c.) Mr. Fl. (mucJi agitated) Oh ! dear, oh ! dear ; my head is getting confused and excited. Br. {talking at him) I'll foind out who's to be misthriss here, me or you. Yer same to think I'm a grane mummy from Agypt instead of a Friuch maid out of owld Airin her- silf. Enter Mrs. S. Jiurriedly c. folio iced by Qrkene'. Mrs. S. {looking from one to other) What's this? What's the trouble? Speak, Elsie! Elsie, {loud and e.vcited) It's some trouble and fault found with Mahree about that old foup tureen we sent after. They both stopped her, I understand, and commenced to abuse her violently, for daring to do anything without first consulting tliem. 42 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 2. Br. {speaking loudly and breaking in on first part of above lines and speaking icitU Elsie) She was goia' to foight me over it — till I wint and put me thick soled shoes on and thin she backed down, like a white livered coward as she is. Mrs. S. {confused, turning to Fl.) Mr. Flush, I appeal to you, sir; to tell me what this all means. Mr. Fl. {loorried and nervous — sootldngli/) I don't think it amounts to anything, my dear madam. It all arose out of a wish expressed by sister Jane here to your maid that she would not take the soup tureen away. Of course you did not know it, but it is a family relic that Jane has always prized very dearly. Mrs. S. {impatiently) That will do, sir; I understand it now just as well as if I had been here and heard every word. My maid has been abused for trying to carry out my orders. Mr. Fl. No — no — I am very sure not abused. Jane simply said to her, she tells me Br. {hotly) Yer lie — yer lie! She said to me, .sez she, "don't yer go robbin' me " — that's it, " robbin' me of ivery- thing," " You've shtole," that's what she sid, and I doan't care if it was the sicond cousin of the great grandfather of the cook to the Quane herself as sid it — I won't shtandt it — I won't slitand it. Mrs. S. Well, Mahree, I don't blame you at all. You have acted perfectly right — nobly. You may withdraw now, if you please, but remain within call. I will settle this diffl culty myself. Br. All right, mum. (Aside.) Ould vinaigre cruet. She'll pipper 'em, ef I aint mishtaken. {Exit c. slowly.) Mrs. S. Mr. Flush, you have come to my house — I mean we have come to your house — to help our daughter and yourself to be happy. We have given up the pleasures of our own home, and all its. peace, and love, and unity, which you admired yourself, and come here for your sake. Mr. Fl. Yes, yes, my dear madam ; it was very kind of you all, and we appreciate it, I assiu'e you ; and we try to make it pleasant for you all. Mrs. S. I find no fault with your treatment of us, Mr. Flush, personally, other than, I think, a hundred dollars a week Act 2.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 43 for pin-money, with your income, was rather a small allowance for Edith. And the promise that your will as drawn before marriage should be executed immediately after has not been fulfilled. Mr. Fl. {quicldy) I hope you understand that matter, mad- am. It is not my fault. Fortew was to have had a copy prepared and has not yet brought it. So, at Mr. Short's sug- gestion, I went myself to see about it yesterday, and Mr. Fortew promised to bring it here to-day. I explained all this to Mr. Short, and he seemed quite satisfied. Mrs. S. "When you have finished, sir, I will continue what I have begun. I say, with the exceptions named, I have no fault to find with your treatment of us personally, but I can- not say as much for all the members of your household. I won't mention names, but from the first expression of a cer- tain person's feelings and a paltry bed quilt as a wedding gift, to the present time, there has been a coldness, a hardness, a want of gush, and love, and confidence, which I little expected to find in a sister of my new made son. I don't mention names. J. My dear madam, I cannot help it. I was greatly in- censed at my brother's plan of marrying at his age. There was nothing personal in it. And I am trying hard to over- come all unpleasant feelings. Mrs. S. When your sister has finished her interruption of my conversation with yo\i, Mr. Flush, I will add, that looks, chilling manners, staring, watching, snooking and peering \ye could stand, but when it comes to active, hostile and continual interference with our every plan for your hap- piness, it is time matters were plainly and distinctly settled and defined. J. You are mistaken, Mrs. Short, there has been no hos- tility on my part. I am desirous of doing everything to make your home here pleasant and happy, as my brotlier desires — only. Mr. Fl. Yes, yes! Jane does. She's old, Jane is, and set in her ways, but she's got a heart of gold, my dear madam, and I know you two will get along splendidly together when things are once settled. 44 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 2. Mrs. S. The other day I sent Mahree to bring down the marble top off the bureau in IMiss Flush's room. I did not think it was at all worth while to trouble her by speaking with her first about it — we intended to make it into a shelf to put your curious old iron pots, sauce-pans and kettles from the kitchen on, and have it in the drawing-room — when Mahree was stopped and asked where she was going with it. Now, that I heard myself, there can be no tmo skies to that story — no intimation that Mahree was to blame — To day more trouble — more interfarence. Surely the girl is not all to blame — even if she does speak out upon her part, whicli I wouldn't believe she ever does, having been introduced to me by ]Mrs. Livingstone DePeyster Van Cortlandt. It must be re- membered that she is a foreigner, and that her hot southern blood flows more quickly than the cooler contents of veins grown in a temperate zone. J. Well, my dear madam, if you only knew how I had treasured this old dish — that it's all I've got left of grand aunt's things that I've — Mrs. S. {entirely ignoring J.) I say another instance of inter- ference has occurred to-day, and I propose to make a test or an example of it, and to have you decide once for all whether this sort of thing is to continue or not. Mr. Fl. Oh ! well, my dear madam, do not let us take this matter seriously, I am sure nothing will again happen to vex Jane, and we both are very sorry for what has happened, and we beg your pardon if you desire if, and Mrs. S. It is not what has happened, Mr. Flush, it is the principle of the thing for the future. It might as well be de- cided first as last, here and now. Mr. Fl. Well, my dear madam, I would suggest that in- stead of using this, of which Jane is really very fond, I should buy you something—much handsomer — to take its place on the wall. How would a Chinese pagoda or a large hat-bath — painted up prettily, do. Anything that Edith or you would select. Never mind the expense. Mrs. S. As I said before, sir, in this case I choose to make it a matter of principle and a final test. I insist, sir, that you decide between us — which of us shall have our own way as Act 2. J HOME, SWEET HOME. 45 to this particular thing. I say That dish shall go where I expected to put it. A person whom I will not name saj's it shall not. J. But, my dear madam Mrs. S. My conversation is addressed to you, sir. Mr. Fl. Yes ; but, my dear madam, in this matter Mrs. S. In this matter, sir, there is nothing further to be said — not one word — except for you to decide which of the two ways of disposing of tliat paltry dish sliall be followed. Mr. Fl. But, my dear madam, if you will only listen — Mrs. S. I will listen to nothing, sir — except your answer — and be quick about it, too. Mr. Fl. (mronisly) Oh, dear ! Oh, dear! I don't like to say— my poor head is tired of it all. If I must — but I would rather not — I should say that sister, having had this old family relic so long, and it being her property, should be the one ti> say whether it should be used or not. Mrs. S. {angrily) I knew it. He is against me, too. He takes her part in everything — no matter who's right. That's tiie end of it. I shan't try any more to keep the peace between us. You two have made your own bed now — you can lie in it. Mr. Fl. But, dear madam — now don't get excited— mj- only desire is that we may all be happy here together — that you Mrs. S. That I — That's right, be sarcastic and ironical. Turn me into ridicule— make a jest and butt of mQ— {bursting into tears). Taunt me, slight me, insult me, trample on me — tear me limb from limb — ah ! oh ! — hum ! — {screams molently and prolonged) Ah — h — h — h ! {screams louder) Ah — h — h ! Elsie, {hurriedly) She's got one. Lewin, run and tell them to send up a pail of water quick, and I'll see if I can find pa. I thought you'd bring one on between you, you mean old things. {Goes out c, calling "Pa! Pa! Pa!") Mrs. S. {screams) Ah — h — h — h ! Mr. Fl. Oh ! dear, oh ! dear, it goes right through my head. Oh ! dear, who could have supposed anybody would have a temper like this ? J. I never did hear anything like this. 46 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 2. Mrs. S. What is she saying ? Taunting me, insulting me to my face ! (screams) Ah — h — h — Let me get at her ; let me get at her old crockery ! I'll show her who she's got to deal with! (Rushes to table, seizes tureen, raises it in both 7iands over lier head as if to dash it to pieces. J. rushes to her.) J. Help ! help ! help ! She'll break it. Greene enters c, runs to her and holds left arm. Mr. S. runs in with Edith, Foktew, Elste and Bridget ; they gather around Mrs. S. Mr. S. ^ays hold of tureen. Mrs. S. (screams) Ah — h — h — h — h ! Mr. S. Yes, she's got one. (firmly) Stop, Matilda, stop. Hurry up that water. Send up two pails, one hot.^ Mrs. S. (controlling herself somezcJuit) No — no, Aristotle ; not 7iot. I — I will try to behave. Where is Mahree. She isn't against me. Let her take me awaj', out of this room. I shall suffocate — choke— here. (Br. comes to her, and Mrs. S puts arm about her neck; they exit slowly c.) Br. All right, my angel. (Aside.) Ovvld pickle pot! Mr. FXi. (comj^letely exhausted — throirs hirnself back in chair) Oh! dear — dear! Never have I passed through such an ex- citement as this. I'm as weak as I can be. My head aches and is all confused. Oh ! dear. Oh ! dear. Mr. S. (good naturedly) Oh ! That's nothing when you get used to it. Mr. Fl. Has she ever acted so before V She isn't subject to such paroxj^sms, is she V Mr. S. No — I shouldn't say subject to them. She has them two or three times a week. Fortunately those she has had since she's been here, she's had up in our room. Mr. Fl. Oh ! my poor brain. I really think another such excitement would kill me (sees YonTKw who has taken seat at table and is looking over jmpers) Ah ! Fortew, I did not see you and Edie too. I haven't seen you, Edie, all the morning. Edith. No? You have managed to do pretty well with- out me. Worrying poor dear ma into one of her turns. Mr. Fl. Please don't turn against me, too, Edie. I have had worriment enough for one day. (leans head on hand Act 2.] HOME SWEET HOME. 47 wearily ; J. standsby him and tries to soothe him bypassing hand over hair, &c.] Fort. Mr. Flush, I have brought the Will at last. It was my fault entirely that you have not had it sooner, But we have been rushed at the office. Will you execute it now or shall I come in again ? {rises tcith Will in hand and stands by Fl. ) Mr. Fl. Yes — yes — now ! I will be glad to have it done with. Another day like this would make it too late. (Fort. hurries himself at table) Where do I sign ? Opposite the seal? Fort. Yes. JMr. Fl. (signs) My hand trembles so I don't know whether it looks much like my signature or not. Fort. I will sign as one witness and Mr. Greene the other. (to Greene) You are of age, ain't you ? Greene (startled) Sir ? Fort. You are of age— twenty-one ? Greene (more frightened) No, sir. Yes, sir — but I don't want to be mixed up in any law things. Fort. Just be a witness here. Greene. I don't want to go say anything against this family (goes reluctantly to table). Fort. All I want you to do is to sign your name here — take this pen! {puts pen in Gr's hand) This is Mr. Flush's Will and he wants you to sign it. Do you not, Mr. Flush V Mr. Fl. Yes, this is my Will and I want you to witness it. Fort, (pointing) Sign your name and address there. Greene, (at icrorig place) Here? Fort, (impatiently) No, there ! Grerne. (again at wrong place) There ? Fort, (fiercely) No. there — there — there — where my finger is. I'd as lief have an idiot to deal with. Greene, (signs laboriously) Suppose ma's mad at my doing this ? Fort. Refer her to me! (folding up Will and looking at Edith significantly) There, the Will is signed, sealed and published. So that IS over with (has ichispered conference aside with Edith and Mr. S.) Yes, yes, I think you are right, now is a good time, (standing by side of Edith, l.) Having completed my ser- vices as your counsel in the matter of your Will, Mr. Flush, 1 48 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 2. have now to announce to you that I appear as the attorney of this fair young person, your beloved wife. You must be well aware, sir, that you have reached that period of life when by common consent a man is incapable of properly taking care of himself or his property. An age, sir, when as everybody knows who has Jiged relatives with money, the mind has become uusound nud the person nou compos, or rather a lun- atic, as the law now calls hnn. For our law, sir, gently gathers under this sweet word all varieties of mental disease, unsound- ness and aberration, except the single one of idiocy, as the maternal goose gathers her downy goslings under her snowy quills. Mr. S. {admiringly to Editu) That's beautiful lanjjuage (aloud) Hear ! Hear ! Mr. Fl. {taking hands from liead and listening witJi interest) What do you mean by this FortewV Are you talking about me and in earnest ? FoiiT. I said " you " and I said " you--." Two words, short and easy of comprehension to a mind in its normal state, a brain not worn out or destroyed by the lapse of unnecessary years. To continue, my fair client, by her father as her next friend, and through me, as her attorney, has made an appli- cation to the court for an order tiiat a commission should be issued de luiiatieo inquirendo. Mr. S. That's beautiful language ! Fort. The application was made the very day after your wedding. We did not press tlie matter, as we desired to have your AVill first duly executed and in our possession. The order was obtained and entered. A commission has been •duly issued and I here and now serve the party proceeded against with the papers {handing voluminous papers to Fl.) that he -may at once prepare himself for his defense by retain- ing competent counsel. J. {sinking into chair by Yi's side) Tliis is the most extraor- dinary, the most dreadful, the most barbarous thing I ever heard of. Mr. Fl. Hush, Jane ! You do not read the papers daily or it would not seem so extraordinary to you, and we don't want any more scenes like that of to-day. So please be very Act 2.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 49 quiet and respectful. May I ask, sir, what I have done to lead any one, least of all my wife here, to think me unsound in mind? I have as carefully conducted all my business affairs as at any time in the past. I don't think I have made any serious mistakes in them. My memory is good. I could now give you an exact inventory of all my investments and assets. I have prided myself that while my body was feeble and weakened a little by sickness, my mind was as strong and lucid as ever in my prime. Still I may have done some strange things without knowing it. If so, I should like to know what they are. Fort, {coldly) The affidavits attached to the Petition set forth all the facts in detail and I would suggest to the aged party that he should lose no time in placing the same in com- petent hands, that they may be properly explained to him. Appearing for his opponent it is not for me to give him in- formation, but still I will say thus much, that the principal ground on which we rely for an adjudication is his recent marriage with my client. That he, a feeble old octogenarian, should propose marriage to a child of the tender years of this fair flower, is a most convincing proof to her, as she alleges under oath, that the poor old superannuated party is — to put it mildly — mad. J. {exasperated) Do you mean to say that his wife goes into court and asks to have him adjudged a lunatic, as you dare to call it, because he married her? Oh, this is simply monstrous, monstrous — unnatural; too horrible to think of — Mr. Fl. There, there, Jane; don't add to this confusion. You see I am calm and — and — composed. I don't mind it. {Bursts into tears and weeps silently ; J. weeps by side ; Greene affected ; rest calm and unmoved.) Fort. I would once more suggest that the aged party pro- ceeded against should at once retain counsel, and he need not think that I am unduly or unusually interested in this case because of the unwonted comeliness of my client. The beauty of woman falls upon the judicial mind like the soft dropping of the dew upor. the everlasting adamant. Mr. S. Beautiful language! {Applauds slightly .) Mr, Fl. {sighing) Well, Fortew, I suppose I shall retain you. I don't know anyone else to go to as respectable. 50 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 2. . Fort. Let us step aside, then, a few moments. (They retire up c. and consult.) Mr. S. {to Edith) His language reminds me a little of Uncle Aristotle's, and recalls to my mind an incident in his life. At a literary congress to which he belonged he began a sentence at a quarter before nine in the morning, and did not finish until ten minutes of three in the a'fternoon, and it was so beautifully constructed grammatically, that nobody knew when he got through it. One of the members who heard it made up his mind to parse it in six volumes, and publish them by subscription, but he only lived to complete three of them. I have them. (Mr. Fl. and Fort, come down st.; Fl. resumes seat and Fort, stands beside him.) Fort. I am retained by my aged friend to act as his coun- sel in this matter. He has requested leave to ask of the other side two or three questions. {Grosses to side of Edith) I am pleased to meet as my opposing counsel in this matter one in whose love of justice and desire to do right I have such im- plicit confidence. My fair client and her friends I am sure will gladly answer any questions that in the opinion of my learned friend are not unfair, Mr. Fl. Edith, when were these proceedings first suggested? Edith, {calmly) I think the evening you proposed to me — after you had gone home. Mr. Fl. {leaning forward eagerly) Who first suggested them ? Edith. Ma ! I^Ir. Fl. {greatly relieved). Thank heaven ! Have they now your full sanction? Edith. They have. Mr. Fl. Why do you desire it? Edith. Because it is right and just that it should be done. You have made your Will leaving everything to me, and I can't have my property risked and jeopardized by being under the control of a person of your great age. It would be injustice to me and to Pa who has had to pay for my school- ing and to Ma, who weaned me and trotted me so much in childhood's hour. Both of whom now feel that a comfort- able home has been provided for them for the rest of their lives. Act 2.J HOME, SWEET HOME. 51 Mr. Fl. I would like to ask a question or two of Mrs. Short, who is not here. Mr. S. Elsie call your mother in if she can behave her- self ! [Exit Elsie c. Fort and Fl. confer ajxirt. Enter Mrs. S.» supported by Elsie and followed by Bridget. Mrs. S., catch- ing sight of tureen still on, table, screams and rolls her eyes vic- iously.] Mr. S. If you want to have any peace and quiet, you'll have to take that thing away and put it out of sight. (Jane 'likes tureen and hurries out l icitJi it.) Fort. Mrs. Short will you kindly be seated; my respected client Mr. Flush, for whom at this moment I am speaking, desires to put a question or two to you, which (crosses to Edith) I, as representing your dear daughter, advise you that you may answer without danger of compromising our in- terests. Mrs. S. (ruefully) Well, sir ; I will answer if I can control myself. Mahree, hand me my salts — Mr. Fl. Mrs. Short, three months ago you gave me your full and free consent to marry your daughter ? (reenter J. . taking same place as before bes^ide Fl. ) Mrs. S. Of course ; you know I did. Mr. Fl. Mr. Fortew tells me you have sworn in an af- fidavit among these papers that you have known me as a neighbor for a long time, and that, of your own knowledge, I have been of unsound mind for more than two years. Is this true ? Mrs. S. Of course it is. You are 85. Mr. Fl. I am satisfied ; go on Fortew. Fort. My aged client requests me to say in his behalf that while perfectly certain that these proceedings are entirely unnecessary and uncalled for, and while feeling hurt that the same should have been instituted, he is unwilling that any scandal should be caused by them or publicity given to them. He desires me to say that he will not oppose the proceedings as instituted, but will, so far as possible, under the practice, consent to a formal adjudication, and the appointment of his 52 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 2. wife as committee of both his person and estate. That he will retire to the peaceful little institution for the mentally afHicted, founded and conducted by his old friend, Dr. Leo- pold Haarbauer, where the use of the electrified bolster has been introduced. He feels, he tells me, that he has at most but a few years to live and would rather, I have no doubt, spend those years in a lunatic asylum than in the uninter- rupted society of his respected mother-in law— for, Mr. Flush, like the rest of us, is human — Mr. S. {to Edith) Beautiful language ! Fort, {crossing to Edith, ichispers) : My fair client perceives with pleasure that the spirit of concession and compromise is to pervade these proceedings, and on her part she will heartily reciprocate. She desires me to say she is not actuated by any personal dislike to her feeble partner. She will see that every moderate comfort consistent with the strictest economy is afforded him. Of course, he cannot expect to be indulged in luxuries or to have any particular consideration shown him, for he is well aware that he is one of those unfortunate in- dividuals who have outlived their use and usefulness. Mr. Fl. I shall only have one request to make when the time comes, and that is as to dear Jane, here — I want her, Edith to have every comfort and every luxury— I want her to have every wish gratified as long as I shall live, as well as after my decease, as provided for then in my will. J. {Greatly affected.) Nicholas, I can never be separated from you. We have lived together under the same roof seventy-eight years, boy and girl, man and woman, sister and brother, and do you think I could let you leave me, or that I could leave j'ou? No, brother dear, if you are a lunatic as they call it, so am I, and I really begin to believe we both are, when I hear and see such things as I have heard and seen this day, in this house. I feel that if the rest of the world of to-day be sane, we old folks are as mad as March hares ! Act 3.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 53 ACT III. Scene. — Same as Act II; Some modern furniture introduced. Edith and Mr. S. discovered. Mr. S. Why, of course, we expected they'd go up— but in- stead, they've gone down— to nothing— to worse than nothing, for they're not worth a cent, and there's an assessment on each share to pay. Edith. Why, what happened to them? Mr. S. Oh ! some fellow made a Pad better than Haarbau- er's— no better perhaps, as an Electric Pad, but one you can use for a money belt, a valise, a camp-stool, a hammock, a bed quilt, a dressing gown and a life preserver, and it all sells for the same price as the doctor's. Edlth. Well, why don't the doctor improve on tliat ? Mr. S. He's a queer fellow, Haarbauer is ; always got some new hobby. Now he's getting up an explosive pill — to be swallowed while attached to a delicate electric wire, and fired off in the stomach — for headache. It will be some time yet before he can start a company. There'll be one prejudice against it from the first, to swallow anything with a long hair like attachment must inevitably recall the boarding-house dinner of experience, and of the two most people would pre- fer the headache. Well, the fact remains that we've put a deal of the old man's money where we'll never see it again. Edith {seriously). Well, Pa, I don't understand why if the stock of the Electric Pad Company has been worthless a month, as you say, you havn't sold it out to some of your friends, and let them bear the loss. It isn't like you not to have done it. Mr. S. Why, my dear, I did. I stuck all the friends I could just as soon as I found out where it was going ; but you can't go on doing that sort of thing forever where you have an un- limited amount of stock and a limited circle of friends. Your friends give out before the stock does. Edith. Well, I'm very, very sorry that we sold out those Government Bonds that we got from the Safe Deposit Com" 54 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 3. pany at all. For they were pretty at any rate. Yet it seemed to sound business like when we talked it over. Sell the Bonds and buy Electric Pad Stock ; if we made anything, keep that ourselves ; if we lost anything put that down to the old man's estate on my account as his committee. Then when we ge* through buy back the bonds again. It sounded fair and just, like what I had read about in the papers that banks and companies were doing ; and now the money is all gone, and we have no- thing left to buy back the bonds with. What shall I put down on my account ? Mr. S. {cheerfully). Nothing. It's all simple enough Edie. It don't give me a moment's uneasiness. We've got his Will ; everything left to you. Edith. Yes, I know that. Mr. S. Well, he's very low, may die at any moment ; up at Haarbauer's asylum, where he has stayed constantly for ten months, he and his sister will know nothing about it, and when he's gone it will all be yours, and then no one will ever know anything about it except you and me, Edie and her Pa. It don't trouble me a bit. {singn) Trala-la-lum, tra-la-la-lum, la-lum-la-lum ! Edith {thoughtfully). Then when he dies I am the only one who could ever make a claim for those moneys ? Mr. S. That's it. Ha, ha ! Don't you see ; we're safe enough. Edith {thoughtfully). How much does the loss amount to ? Mr. S. About $75,000. Here, I've got a little memorandum of the exact amount {feels in pocket). No ; I've left it in my other coat ; shall I get it ? Edith. Yes, please. Mr. S. I wish we had a friend now, say just come home from Europe, and knew nothing about the company — some one who had perfect confidence in me — I'd just like to unload on him the rest of that stock ; we could get half our — that is — your, I mean — the old man's money back {exit k.). Edith. Oh, dear ! I wish there was no such thing as losing money or spending mouey, only getting it and keeping it, and knowing tliat you had more of it than your neighbors. That's the charm it has for me. Acts.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 55 ( Enter Ei.sie c. , sloioly, pale and weeping ; iJiroics herself down by Edith's side and buries her face in her lap and sobs con- ■mlsively. ) Edith. There, there, Elsie ; you'll make yourself sick crying so much and eating nothing. It's four days now since you've been like yourself at all. Elsie (raising her head and looking sorroipfidly). ,Four days since he died, and almost one since we laid him in the tomb. Oh, my love, my love ! Edie, I want to thank you for letting us have the funeral here yesterday. Edith. Oh, you are welcome. ^ Elsie. It was a great comfort to me to have it and to see so many of his little friends attend it, and Mr. Xamm was so kind to come and officiate, and he spoke so beautifully ; and when the poetry came at the end of his remarks, as it's sure to come, 1 thought I should go into convulsions, and that poor little black-and-tan of the Woolwiddies seemed almost as much affected as I was ; he had to walk out into the hall to control himself. Mr. Namm sent me a copy of the verses this morning ; I almost know them by heart {looks off dreamily and recites mournfully). "Oh, voice of weeping, shrill, shrill! Oh, cup of sorrow, fill, fill ; Oh, bitter waters, spill, spill, For his little tail is still, still! " Edith. That sounds just like him. Elsie. Oh, my breaking heart ! Everything reminds me of him. Mr. Namm's moustaches have always had a great in fluence over me, but they now only recall those of my lost darling. In every other I see his shadow ; when Ma speaks I hear his snarl, and when I ste Lewin with his empty arms and unoccupied time, there comes afresh the words of doom "Mignonette is dead." {weep>s conmdsively .) Enter Bridget, l. Br. Say, Miss Elsie, the dress maker wants to try your mournin' waist on. now its baisted. * Elsie, {rising and drying her eyes) It is the only solace for a heart really broken — new clothes and the excitement of trying them on. Exeunt Elsie and Br., l., enter Greene r. c. 56 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 3- Gr. Where's poor Elsie — Edith. Just this moment left me to seek consolation in the sewing room. Gr. {anxiously) Oh, Edie, do you think she'll really die of a broken heart ? she says she bets she will — I asked Ma — Edith, Well— Gr. She did'nt give me any particular satisfaction — Edith. What did she say? Gr. Well, she only said "fiddle de dee" which might mean slmost anything; I've got so 'I can keep step with Elsie when she is'nf tied back, and if she should go and die of a broken heart {weeps) who is there left in this family for me? Edith. Elsie is very much broken down and if she don't eat anything for a week or more, she may be carried off by a broken heart. Gr. Oh! is'nt there anything will save her? Edith. I think there is — I know Elsie pretty well— supply the old love with a new — get her another dog. Gr. I never thought of that — I'll do it if I can ; Ma's get- ting awful generous, she gave me a dollar this morning on my only asking twice. I was in hopes when Mignonette died, that maybe I could take his place, in time. Edith. (to'M^j') I hardl}' think so. Lewin. There is a natu- ral brightness and intelligence about a dog, that the young man of the period does not possess. I have read somewhere that a dog is never born without a brain; well now, I know myself ever so many young men, older than you are; brighter than you are, who were born without a speck. Gr. {pleased) you talk just like an own sister to me, Edie; I always like to listen to you ; you always make me feel as if I amounted to something, now Ma never pays me a com- pliment and I like them — every fellow does — well, I guess I'll go and see what I can do, and you need'nt let Elsie know I've been here. Exit c. , eritei- Mr. S. , R. , with paper in liand. Mr. S. There Edie, that's the account {hands it to her.) Edith, {looking it over) Is that all in your handwriting, Pa? Mr. S. {surprised) Yes — why? Act 8] HOME, SWEET HOME. 57 Edith. Nothing— " $70,323.31.^' That's a good deal of money to lose. Mr. S. I know, but it's virtiiallj^ your own. Edith. That's what makes me feel the loss to be heavy. Mr. S. You don't seem to understand. Edith. Yes, I do. Mr. S. The old man may die any moment now — they say he's very low — no one allowed to see him. I'd have gone there to-day to inquire if I hadn't expected to go fishing; but he don't want to have any body even to inquire about him but you. Edith, {coldly) I went up last month and stayed nearly a quarter of an hour. He can't expect me to spend all my time there. I shall go up again when I finish the novel I'm read- ing — if I ever do — it's horribly dull. Mr. S. I don't suppose really he would have lasted any longer if we had let him alone, and taken no proceedings. One or two of your Ma's tantrums would have finished him. The one she had day before yi sterday for instance, when she pulled off the table-cloth and danced on the dessert. Stil', speaking of your Ma, I think she's improving. When we were first married I used to calculate 25 per cent, of my in- come to pay her breakage — this year it's been a mere trifle — to be sure it's been mostly among other people's things, so it don't count to me — still I think I can see an improvement. {Enter Bridget, i..) Br. Misther Short — Miss Elsie wants yer to come up shtairs quick, with some wather. She can't do nothin wid her Ma. The ould woman's got the tlriss-maker down and is a settin on top of her scraimin' loike mad. Mr. S. What's happened ? Br. Oh — she wants thray moore buttons on her mournin' than the pattern calls for. (S. Imrries out l.) Edith. Why Mahree, you h>ok tired ? Br. I'm that tired I could drop — I towld the waitriss I'd mind the front door while she wint to look at shwitches for her hid — and I've hed to go oncet alriddy. {Exit slowly v.. ; Haarbauer enters c, and comes down. ) 58 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 3. Dr. Haaubauer. How you vas Mrs. Flush ? Is your vater and mutter at home ? EuiTii. Yes, doctor — any news ? Dr. H. {seriously) Pardon me, madam — but will you be so goot as to hev here mit you your parents. I hev an errant. Edith, (rising) I'll call pa — ma is not feeling very well. (Exit R.) Dr. H. Poor young ting. It es cruel, dot's vot it is. I vish dey hev some one else — to hev to say your husband ess gone. I hef not die heart ven die voman ess pretty. She look sheerful, but I know die vomen. Dey keep np mit a shmile till come die blow, und denn collpose mit a pop — faint, cry, shriek, pull die hair, tear die clothes. Oh ! I hev see dem und I vish it vere veil over. (Enter Mr. S. drying his hands with handkercliief folloiced by Edith.) Mr. S. Ah, doctor. How-d'ye-do. Mrs. S. will be 'down in a few minutes. She's changing her clothes — got wet acci- dentally a moment ago. What's the news ? How's our old friend ? Dr H. (eery solemnly) He lies — left us Edith, (brightly) Gone at last, eh? Dr. H. (solemnly) Gone — at last. Edith. WlII, Pa, you see I was right in having the mourn- ing under way a week ago . Mr. S. Yes, yes, you were quite right. Edith. We will have to bestir ourselves. There are a great many things I want done right away. Pa, you get word to Mr. Fortew to have whatever is necessary to be done about proving the Will attended to at once — not wait for anything. And I want him to get us rid of all this ' ' Committee." ' ' Com- mittee," nonsense! I'm in a hurry to write my owq name to -checks and things, -and to feel that ererything is really mine — mine — mine! Dr. H. (listening and regarding loitlt wonder) Veil, my gra- cious. Vot a hett dot iss for pisniss. Mr.-S. Well, I'll see Fortew at once. (Exit, c.) Edith. Now, I hope, doctor, you are not going to send Act 3.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 59 me in some enormous bill for my husband's board, or for bis sister's. They say times are very hard ; and you must not for- get that three or four times we have sent up ice cream to them, when we had 'more for dessert than we could eat — I shall want all that credited. Dr. H. You vill not hef to tremble at my bills. (Aside.) Vot ahett! I must tink about her sister. My ,2;racious! Edith. And, doctor, if you can dispose of his clothes among the patients I should be glad — at fair prices. Dr. il. I vill do all I can to make die sorrow in your heart lighter to bear; I am your shlave. Edith. Would you take any more shares in your Electric Pad Company — toobligCr^me — (looking at him arcJdy). Dr. H. (bounding up) No — my gracious. Day hef made me already troubles enough. Vy do you ask? Edith. Pa's got some we'd like to dispose of — if you would Dr. H. Hes he no intimate frients? Edith. None that are without some of the stock he had. Enter Bridget, c. slowly and wearily. Br. Note for Mrs. Flush (hands same to Edith). I wish that gurl would get home. I'm tired out complately^this is the sicond toinie I've been. Edith, (amused icith reading (reads) " Dear Madam: Allow" me in the midst of j-our deep aifliction to call your attention to my new Sten oscopic Burial Casket, combining beautiful optical effects with simplicity of construction, well seasoned material and cheapness. Dr. Leopold Haarbauer endorses them. Eespectfully, Hiram Shrowder." Whut is it. doctor? Dr. H. You vant von not. Day is goot for dose who vish to make show of die carcase. Die casket in die edge of die lid hef many pair of glass like die stereoscope, und die parties marching^ round look droo. It brings out die features und die embroider}' goot enuff — but som^ fellow hef a later pa- tent mit improvements — I forget liis name. He hef die glasses, und schmall vires und a crank, und you look droo — und turn die crank, und it schmile, und vinks, und nod its hett, goot enuff But I like not dese tings. Ven you hef ted — bury you ted ; ven you vish shows, buy a menagerie. 60 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 3. Edith. Yes, but doctor be says it combines cheapness with the optical effects. Dr. H. Dey cost more dann die odders. Edith. Then we certainly don't want one. Enter Mr. S. Fokv. followed by '^'Lxs. S.,icho appears to be subdued, and Elsie. Edith. Mr. Fortew, I suppose Pa has told you what I wanted you to do ? Foot. Yes ; he met me on my way here. The fact is I am placed in a somewhat peculiar position. I am unexpectedly retained this morning by — you can't guess who ? Dr. H. I can guess who not ; it wasn't me — my gracious — never again. Fort. Miss Jane Flush. Edith, {excitedly) Miss Jane Flusli— what for? Fort. To prevent you from proving the Will of her late deceased brother, on the ground that the same is null, void and of no effect. Dr. H. Anoder vill gone ; my gracious ! Edith, {excitedly) Why that is ridiculous ; you drew it. Mr. S. {excitedly) And Mr. Flush signed it ; I saw him and heard him declare it to be Ms Will. Elsie, {lugubriously) And Lewin witnessed it ; L saw him, and held my lost darling while {bursts into tea)'s). Fort. Notwithstanding all that, speaking as the counsel for my aged and esteemed client, sister of the deceased, I am compelled to say that the Will so drawn, so executed and so witnessed is null and void, not wortli the paper it is written upon. Dr. H. Dat is die beauty uv a two-sided lawyer ; never vill I hef vun in my pisniss again. Edith. Well ; tell us what you mean. How is the Will made void ? {impatiently) Don't be so slow ; be explicit! Fort, {calmly and with deliheration) Acting in the interest of Miss Flush, an opposing party, it would not be profes- sional in me to explain our position — to use a figure drawn from a very respectable calling, to show our hand before the kad be made. 1 shoi Id advise the parties concerned to re- Act 3.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 61 'tain competent counsel and in that way obtain what informa- tion they require. Mr. S. Well, Edie, I suppose we had better. Edith rises and calls Fortew aside and liolds icMspeivd con- versation with him, tlien returns and takes Iter seat. Fort. Being retained by this fair young widow, whose pale cheek and tearful eyes should melt the heart of everlast- ing adamant ]\Ir. S. {to Edith) Beautiful language ! Fort. I hasten to explain what my learned friend on the other side, out of feelings of professional etiquette, had to de- cline to elucidate. You will all remember that we applied for an order that a commission should issue in lunacy before the W^ill in question was executed ; that after its execution we obtained without opposition an adjudication in the lunacy proceedings. The Will then was executed pe7iding the pro- ceedings. You follow me? Edith. That's plain enough. Fort. Now, our Appellate Court has recently decided that the adjudication in lunacy relates back to the commencement of the proceedings, and that every act done by the lunatic, after such commencement, is null, void and of no effect. You follow me? ' Mr. S. {disgusted) You should have known this. It was your business to see that no such blunder was made. You charged for it, and got paid for it — handsomely, too. Fort. At the time this occurred our Appellate Court held just the other way, so far as any testamentary acts pending ad- judication were concerned. Mr. H. Peautiful tings dese dree^die law — die court — die lawyer. Here come the vizard mit some monish. Now he say. my friend, you see it, and now — you don't. Where is it ? in de law ? No. In die court ? No. Ah — so it is — in the pocket of die lawyer. Edith. This is dreadful — all that will be left for me will be a share in the estate, as if no will had^been made. Well, thet is something. I shan't be without consolation. . Fort, {stepping to other side of table) I am now speaking as 62 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 3. the attorney for the aged maiden, Miss Flush, again. She is very much incensed, she says, at the conduct of certain par- ties in connection with the estate of her deceased brother. She has gone so far as to call these parties adventurers. She has instructed me lo take immediate steps to compel the Committee of the deceased lunatic to account for all the property which has come into her possession. She has informed me that large sums have been wasted, and large amounts lost in hazardous investments sufficient in the aggregate to offset any share to which the Committee, as widow, would be entitled under the Statute. I would like to hear from my learned friend on the other side upon the subject {crosses to Edith). I can only say to my learned brother who has expressed a wish that he should hear from me on the subject of a proposed ac- counting by the Committee of the person and estate of the de- ceased that I have not yet been retained in the same, that it is an entirely distinct matter from that of the Will in which I appear, and unless specially retained, I Edith, {impatiently) I retain you — I retain you — tell us what to do. Fort. As your counsel in those proceedings also, I should certainly advise you to compromise if possible, and I will con- fer with my learne d friend. Dr. H. Ah! I tout it was time to hear about some compro- mises, my gracious. Edith. It seems to me the outlook is desperate. I will take the reins into my own hands and save every dollar that I can. Here, Mr. Fortew, I retain you also to take immediate proceed, ings to collect for me the sum of |76,o23.21 from my dear Pa, here, being for moneys intrusted to him to invest safely, and lost by him as 1 shall claim in a careless and negligent manner by being put into the stock of the Electric Pad Com- pany, which is now worthless. There is the account {handing it to Fort.). I have taken the precaution to obtain an admis- sion from Pa that it is in his own handwriting. I would at- tach his bank account and any property of his you can find. Mr. S. {astonished) Goodness gracious, Edie, you don't mean this. Why, you are my favorite daughter. No par- tiality you know, but you and I have always, somehow, been peculiarly attached to one another, and Act 3.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 63 Edith. That is all true Pa, and I love you as much now as I ever did. But this is a crisis for me, and I have to act ac- cordingly. I have often heard you say you never allowed feeling to stand in the way of business, and my first duty, as you have always shown me by your precept and example, is to myself. , Mr. S. (amazed) "Well, I never expected to have Edie — turn on me. Well, I'll have to fight it. Do you think I am liable, Fortew, when she knew what I was doing, and Fort, (with dignity) Pardon me, sir. I do not have the pleasure of representing you in this matter. I should advise you to retain competent counsel without delay. Mr. S. Oh! confound it. Come \wvQ {inalks off Ij. and holds whispered' conference with Fort.). Dr. H. I should tink dot man get so mixed up mit his re- tainers und his parties und his learned frients that he would be crazy, my gracious. Mr. S. {coming down worried to Mrs. 8.) Matilda, you've got a pretty clear head for business. What do you advise? Mrs. S. {looking up icith feigned surprise) Me! oh, nothing. lam nobody, a cipher. I ventured to make a simple sugges- tion once about it and was snapped at and insulted and abused for it. I gently suggested that Elsie was best fitted for the position of wife to this dead old man, but I was silenced. Edith must do it. She was the eldest, and the fa- vorite, and now you see — just as I told you. I foresaw it all all these blunders. I could have named them beforehand. I knew Edith would make them, for she takes after her Pa. Elsie would never have made a mistake of this kind, would you, my dear? Elsie, {who has been buried in grief looks up sadly) Oh! don't speak to me. Ma. What do I care wliat I would or would not have done. My heart is broken. Mrs. S. I wash my hands of all responsibility in this matter — you two have got us into the trouble, and I expect you two to get us out. {Exit, loftily, c.) Edith. It seems like some dreadful dream. For nearly a whole year I have had control of so much money, which I felt was and treated as my own, and it has unfitted me for C4 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act 3. any other life. And to be left with only what I can get out of Pa. off the $76,000 ! If I get hold of eveiything he's got. I don't believe it will pay twenty per cent, of it. Dr. H. Veil, you vill hef to dry again. Another mar- riage. Edith. Yes. I have tlyaught of that myself. Enter Bridget, c, with floicers and letter. Br. Nosegay and note for Mrs. Flush {giving them). I won- der if that gurl ain't niver comin' back. That makes thray toimes, and I'm almost did. {E.vit, c,, icearily.) Edith, {putting flowers on table) This is almost the worst of it. Flowers and condolences, mourning and funeral all to be gone through with ; and we expected to be just as much af- fected, to the nak'cd ej'^e, as if we cared, or the Will was to stand, or I was to have all I have hoped for, worked for, and earned. (0/>it. Jane and I have promised to spend every Friday at the asylum with some very pleasant people, some very sane lunatics we have met there. We shall leave here about ten in the morning and return about three in the afternoon. And on those days and between those hours you may understand that you are free to come here and "interest "yourself, as you call it, in our affairs. You will not interfere with the servants. J. Nor disturb the furniture. Mr. .Fl. Nor exhibit any violent paroxysms of temper. J. Nor touch anything that we may keep under lock and key. Mr. Fl. We shall only expect to see you at other times on special invitation. This has your approval, Edith? Edith. Yes, Nicholas. Mr. Fl. {to Mrs. S.) Is it a bargain ? Mrs. S. {regretfully) Well, sir, it is a hard bargain. But having another daughter who may marry soon, and thus open up a new field for the exercise of my lego-maternal longings — I consent and promise. Mr Fl. {with sigh of relief) We are perfectly satisfied. Enter Elsie, hurriedly, c, carrying Buou, and followed by Greene. Elsie. Oh ! Ma. Oh ! Pa. Oh ! Edie. I've got a new dog. {Enter Dr. H. and Fort, r.) My broken heart is mended and my sorrows are over. Greene. And she loves him already. • Elsie. A hvindred thousand million billion ^trillion times more than I ever loved Mignonette. Act 3.] HOME, SWEET HOME. 69 Dr. H. My gracious ! How long hev you bed him to get so much lof ? Elsie. IJim is a her, and I've had her five minutes. Dr. H. Vot a constitution hev die heart, of a girl, my gracious ! Fort. Well, excuse me ; I have some business still, I'm on both sides in the old Watkins' W.ll. By will he'd left a headstone for his grave ; They fight the Will the price of it to save. The last time that I saw ihe son — alone — He said t'was rather costly fur a stone. {Exit c.) Dr. H. Well, I believe him ; I moost say goot day — Undto my laboratory based avay {to audience). My frients, soon vill I hev shtuck all around some bills. Vot advertise mit pictures, my new pills, Exshplode vun in your sl^tomach effery night. Dey'U knock your headache higher dann die kite. {E.rit c.) Greene {to Elsie) : Ma told me to go early. Elsie. Don't go 3'et — I wan't your handkerchief, for Bijou's nose is wet. (Gn gives it to her and she uses it on Bijou's nose.) Say zank ou. Bijou, to zoo own papa. He's got to go, for he must mind his Ma. (Holds np Bijou, and Greene takes paic, tfec.) Mr. S. {to audience) Well, we must leave you ; we have got tct pack, And you'll be gone before we can get back. Come on, Matilda. Mrs. S. {stepping forward) Stop, I wish to speak. They've cut my meddling down to once a week. I think, however.I'U presume to say. They'll find that one a pretty lively day J. {aside) To pack ? I hope it is not acting mean. But I'll go watch the spoons and souptureen. {Keeps eye 071 Mr. and Mrs. S. , who are in conversation). 70 HOME, SWEET HOME. [Act. 3. Mr. Fl. {standing by Edith) I feel as strong as ever— all my aches have fled Thanks to magnetic bolster and galvanic bed. Edith, you love me ; let me take your hand. Edith {hesitating, putting hands behind her) Well, Nicholas • your Will shall surely stand ? And every penny shall be left to me ? Mr. Fl. Yes, darling ; rot one word shall altered be. Edith, {giving hand Then, there's my hand, and I icill try To like you, just a little, till you die ; But, please, dear Nicholas, do not get so strong ; You'll keep on living no one knows how long. Mr. Fl. {gayly) Well, there's no knowing, we boys used to say, Where 'ere there is a will there is a way. Edith. Oh ! that old proverb's much improved in part. Now, where there is a Will, there is a Heart. Mr. Fl. and Edith. J- Mr. S. Elsie. Mrs. S. Gr. Curtain. ^108 t -'* ^^ P/k'-^ ^^. A^ - -^0^ *' A^""^^ ■'.'^ii^*'' ^'b'"^^ 'o'^MW*' A^'^'J^ * A <^ *'T:T^' 0^ 'o, "0^.7 '•A tr 0^ :^m^- ^o'^ i'^^\ ^^^ \> s • • » r-\ . .* ^^ -^^ --^P.* J" \ %^. . . o^_--.;-.' ^0 UBRARYoTcONGRESS llfflffc 016 103 ^^,„||,nBi : I