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A POLITICAL PULL.

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A Political Pull

A Comedietta in One Act

By JOHN JASPER JACKSON

BOSTON

WALTER H. BAKER & CO

1900A Political Pull

CHARACTERS

John Curtis, in politics.

Patrick McManus, also in politics.

Jack Wilmot, desirous of being in politics.

Kate Snowden, interested in a politician,

Ruth Ashton, exhibiting like interest.

Maid.

COSTUMES MODERN.

Copyright, 1900, by Walter H. Baker & Co.A Political Pull.

SCENE.—Drawing-room of Mrs. Snowden's house. Dowrs
. i r. and l., hung with curtains; windows at back. Very

; well furnished, piano, small tables, antique chairs,

! Jack seated in front of piano, Ruth on sofa.

I Jack. I'll bet you aunt gets him.

! Ruth. Huh, that's all you know about it. He's dead in
lbve with sister.

; Jack. He is, is he? Well, he sat out three dances with
aunt at the ball last night.

Ruth. I know he did. She got him in a corner of the
conservatory, between a prickly pear and a century plant,-sat
herself in front of him, and every time he tried to escape so
nhany stickers ran into him, that when he got out he looked as
tho^h lie had the measles.

Jack. Well, do you know what the fellows at the club say?
That the only way he can get away from your sister is to die,
for she ll get him, if he stays above ground.

Ruth. Talk of the spiteful gossip of women. Why, last
week at the Smiths' dinner party your aunt bribed the maid to
change the dinner cards, so that she would sit along side of
him

/ Jack. That's a deliberate— (Turns around and bangs
on piano. Ruth reads book. Turning rounds) I hope aunt
g^ts him anyway. Your sister has had two already.

I Ruth. A fool and a minister. Mr. Curtis having some
sejnse and a little wickedness, it will just make one fair man,
which is about the proper ratio. An allowance of three men
tojone woman would make up for the stupidity women have to
eridure.

Jack. Mr. Curtis knows more than any ten women that ever
lived. He's the smartest fellow and brightest politician in this
town. If I could talk like he can, I'd be president of the
United States.

34

A POLITICAL PULL.

Ruth. Why don't you try the presidency ? I think you'y
tried everything else.

Jack. And whose fault is it? To please you I went in fcv
, art. I drew and daubed and scraped, and got myself coverec.
with paint, and wore coats out at the elbow and trousers frayed
at the edges, and what was the result? You laughed at my
landscapes, said my portraits were libels, and cut me on tlfe
street because I looked like a tramp.	5

Ruth. If you'd only been an "old master" I'd have wor-
shipped you, and I'm sure I've always kept that queer, lumpy
cow you painted for me.	*

Jack. And then, when you had the Paderewski craze, I l^t
my hair grow, and banged on the piano until there wasn't ja
sound key in it, and the family threatened to turn me out, anjd
all the neighbors moved, and then, when I'd come and play fcj)r
you, I'd work till I'd melt down my collar, and turn round},
and find you'd flown.

Ruth. I tried to stay, Jack, I really did; but even yoijr
hair didn't give you a musical look; people only took you f<j)r
1 a football player. It wouldn't have mattered if I hadn't been
so fond of music.	j

Jack. That's right. Rub it in. But I won't stand it. I?ll
give up women, and go in for politics. I'll go see Mr. Curtijs,
and I'll marry him to aunt, if I have to chloroform him, ai}d
I'll be his private secretary, and with aunt's money and hjis
brains and my—my—well, and me, we'll sweep the city. I
Ruth. I wish you would. I'm sure it needs it.	*[.

Jack. Oh, you needn't laugh; when the cares of the nation
have weighted me down, and the fate of empires has mafle
creases in my brow, you can think of me eternally regarding
you with scorn.	[Eofyt.

Ruth. I wish he would do something real startling, bu£ I
suppose he will be back to-morrow. If he were only like ]\^r.
Curtis, I'd adore him. Mr. Curtis is the dearest man I know;
as if he'd marry that old frump of an aunt of Jack's. Why,
last night at the ball, just as we were having the loveliest tirpep
she bore down on us with a determination that meant business.
He gave one look at her, turned, and. hissed' in my ear, "jlf
you desert me now, you are no gentleman." "Never, nev^er,
will I desert Mr. Micawber," said I, and I rushed forward a!nd
embraced her with an enthusiasm worthy of a better cause.
She hesitated and was lost, for he slipped through the conserv-
atory door, and was safe under Kate's protecting wing befprea political pull.

5

$he could turn round. If Kate don't marry him, I'll hate her.
Jack says he's awful poor, and that he needs money in^ the
campaign, and Kate has more than she knows what to do with.

Enter Kate.

, ; Kate. Ruth, what have you done to Jack this time ? I
met him in the hall, and he bade me good-bye as though he
were starting for the Arctic regions.

Ruth. Nothing. Jack says Mr. Curtis will marry his aunt,
and I say that rather than see him sacrificed in that way, I'll
marry him myself.

Kate (laughing). And poor Jack was naturally indignant
both on his aunt's account and his own.

Ruth. I'm sure I might do worse.

: Kate. It's extremely probable.

Ruth. But I don't think I shall take him. I fear he might
become president, and I haven't enough dignity for the first
lady of the land; It's more in your line, Katie, my dear. I'd
think it over, if I were you.	[Exit.

Kate. The little minx. I wonder if she guesses that I
have been "thinking it over " rather seriously of late.

Enter Maid.

Maid. Mr. Patrick McManus to see you, Mrs. Snowden.

Kate. Show him right in here.

Enter Mr. McManus.

Kate. Mr. McManus, won't you sit down? I want to
have quite a long talk with you.

McManus. And it's plased and honored I am; and the
longer the talk, the better honored and plased I'll be.

Kate. You must have been surprised to get my note asking
you to call, but I think you can give me some information I
want, and I have heard Mr. Curtis speak of you so often that I
quite felt as though I knew you.

McM. And is it a frind of Mr. Curtis you are ? A foine
moil is Mr. Curtis, and a foine mon was his father before him.
Mofny's the pair of shoes I've cobbled for the father, and mony's
:the- vote I've made the byes put in for the son.

Kate. That's just what I wanted to see you about, Mr.,
McManus. I'm so anxious to see Mr, Curtis elected. Won't
you tell me all about it? Will he win?

A$cM. Will he win? Will a cat drink milk? Av course6

A POLITICAL PULL.

he'll win. As I said to the byes, here's a foine young moi[i
that I've known since he was knee high to a duck, who used t<D
come in as plisint and soshuble like and stand alongside of mfe
at me wurk—but perhaps he may have mintioned it to ye?

Kate. Of course he has. He's told me all about how his
father would never have a shoe from any one else, and how hfe
used to go down to see you, and how you taught him his first
politics.

McM. And would you think of that? Him telling all th&t
to the likes of you. To be sure I taught him all his politic?.
Says I, " Niver go back on the byes, and the byes 'ill niver go
back on you, and all your talk about honest government and
sich stuff 'ill niver hurt you a mite," says I. And iver since I
retired from shoemakin' into politics, I've run his campaigns,
and they've niver downed us yit, and this time we'll swape the
distric' if—if-

Kate. If—what?

McM. Well, mam, ye see, it's this way. We stand for
honist governmint and reform and all that, and the trouble
with thim honist governmint fellows is that they don't come up
with the stuff.

Kate. The stuff?

McM. The stuff. The boodle, you know. They shouts
very loud for us, but they don't put their hands in their pockets.
As I says to a fellow who says to me, " Go in and win "—" I'm
wid ye," says I to him. " Are ye wid us tin dollars?" says
he. "I'm not;" says I, thin, hot loike, "If patriotism and

good governmint ain't worth tin dollars to ye, then be d--"

I begs your pardon, mam.

Kate. I agree with you, Mr. McManus. I think honest
government worth paying for, and I want to help pay for it in
some way that will facilitate Mr. Curtis's election.

McM. That's what I say, mam. It's a disgrace to the
city, mam, as I said whin they appinted a dhirty, low Oitalian
as meat inspector, whin ivery one in the ward knew that ,ime
own nephew Dinni§ was born ixprisly for the position. Wait
till Mr. Curtis gits in, ye thieving blagards, says I, and \fye'll
make you squirm. Did you say how much you was thinking
of contributing mam ?	[

Kate. Well, if five hundred dollars could be used foi le-
gitimate expenses, I--j

McM. If it could be used, mam? Why, I'll git ivery /hall
in the division, and have a truck for him to speak from at iyerya political pull.

7

corner, and run him around to thim in a hack, and put his pic-
ture in ivery saloon, and have his record printed and sint to
iyery one in the ward, together with the record of the corrupt
beggar that has the impertinince to run aginst him. Ivery bit
ay it as legitimite as the day, and it'll elect him, sure. Sure,
you're the good angel that'll bring destruction on the low hay-
tliens that are agin us. .

Kate. Oh, I wish I could go to the meetings and hear him
speak. What is it like ?

; McM. What is it loike ? Oh, you should see him, mam,
gjt up and pulverize thim with his grand manner, hammering
away at thim, with all the byes shouting. He fairly sends thim
flying, espeshully whin the byes git a leetle excited. It's a
ferine represintative he'll make, and I'm thinking that perhaps
you'll be making a foine represintative's lady. And the ward'11
bje proud of you, mam.

j Kate. Oh, Mr. McManus, you make me blush.
McM. Begorra, I'm not too old a mon yet to dance a good

jig at the widdin', and whin I tell him what you've done-

Kate. But you must promise me you'll not tell him, or not
ope cent will you get.

McM. Not tell him, mam, whin I'm fair burstin' wid it,

why—why-

Kate \ firmly). Not one word, or not one cent.
McM. Well, well, give me the money, for if he's eyes in
his head he won't need that to finish him, for a sweeter, bon-
nier -

Kate. Fie, fie, Mr. McManus, you must have kissed the
blarney stone. (Goes to desk.) Here's the check, and re-
member, he's not to know where you got it.

iMcM. Niver fear, I'll not tell your name. And he's as
P )od as elected. I'll go down and start the byes, and remem-
D^r, mam, Pat McManus is to get an invitation to the cere-
mony. .	[Exit.

Kate. If he is elected, I will have had a part in it. I
will have done something to help him on, on, on in the way
that he is so surely following. I have watched him now, for
—how many years, I wonder? A good many more than I
like to think of now. I remember him first as a boy, talk-
ing with a boy's enthusiasm and confidence of what he would
do in the world, and how he would straighten out all its
tangles. Then came his first real struggle with life; some-
how, I always seemed to hear of his trials and troubles, and8	a political pull.

i
i

could see them forming and steadying him, learning from hisj
reverses, gaining a newer and better confidence from his suc-j
cesses until, together, they taught him to do the work set be-:
fore him with all his might—and yet, though he was my best!;
of friends, there always seemed to be some other for whorr}
I cared more, and I don't think that I ever really appreci-i
ated him until I found that during all the time that he hacj[
only been one among many to me, I had been something
more to him. It seemed very strange at first, but now that I
know how faithful and true he has been through all, and what
a brave, strong, manly man he is, I am proud and glad that ii
is so.	\_Exit\

(Voice outside, "Be careful there—look out, don't knock
against that hatrack." )	j •

Enter Jack, carrying graphophone, followed by Curtis, carry xx
ing package carefully wrapped.	' j

Curtis.. There, put it down. Not on that wretched littl^
table, some one will be sure to knock it over—nor that chair ff
would you have some one sitting down on it and ruining it f
—if'you put it on the piano, I'll brain you; don't you kno\y
some one will open it—put it on the floor; carefully, now],
don't jar it; there. (Walks around and inspects it; putk
package alongside of it.) Lucky thing I met you, or I'd nevejr
have gotten them both here safely.	/

Jack. .But what is it? Will it explode? is it gunpowder?;
Cur. It's worse than gunpowder. It may cause an explo-
sion that will knock me flatter than a pancake, and it may—.
but never mind. What's that you've been trying to tell m!e
about a private secretary. I can't afford to keep a young imjp
to bother the life out of me. A.private secretary is too expen-
sive a luxury for a poor man like me.

Jack. But then, you might marry.	;

Cur. (Jumping). Marry.- See here, young man, who has
been talking to you about my getting married ? If your a-L
if any one asks you if I am a marrying man, tell them that,
politics have been the ruination of me; that I drink, smoke,
gamble, do everything bad, do you understand ?	i *

Jack. All right, I'll tell Ruth and Mrs. Snowden. 1*11 -
draw it strong, for Ruth and I were ——

Cur. Oh, you were, were you ? Well, you needn't mirid
drawing it so very strong, for you're young, and it might cofr-A POLITICAL PULL.

9

nipt your character. What were they saying, eh ? Nothing
bad, Jack, I hope.

Jack. Oh, well, not so bad. I stood up for you though,
1--

Cur. That'll do. I think I'll have to take you for a secre-
tary. Your talent for prevarication is being wasted out of pol-
itics. Jack, do you think you could do something for me ?
| Jack. Certainly, sir. I'll begin my duties as secretary.
| Cur. Well, there's no lying needed this time. But you
(know Ruth, Jack. She's a fine girl, eh ? you know that well
fenough, you young dog, you. But she's young; young and
(impetuous, and she's always turning up where you never ex-
jpect her. Now, I have something to say to Mrs. Snowden;
[want to talk to her on business of a strictly private and confi-
dential nature; you know how these business affairs are, you
don't like to be interrupted, and sure as we get started, in will
'pop Ruth. Now, don't you think you might engage her at-
tention for about half an hour? talk to her in the library, or
on the back stairs, or out in the garden; that's a fine arbor
there, Jack; so retired; don't you think you could do it?
; Jack. Why, of course I'll do it for you, and I'm not at all
sure it won't take some lying, but— (Ttirns and knocks
against package.)

Cur. Look out! (Grabs parcel and puts it on tabled)
You wretched boy, would you be the death of me ?

Jack. What under the sun is it?

i Cur. Jack, I'm tempted to tell you. I thought at first that
it was a master stroke of genius, but I'm beginning to weaken,
I'm beginning to weaken. You're young, but they tell me
that they are never too young to know about things of this
kind, and I'm sure I don't know myself.

I Jack. Your secretary is always ready to step into the
breach, sir.

i Cur. Jack, can I trust you? Can you keep a secret?
1 Jack. Can I ? Ruth would give her eye teeth to know
vvHhere I was night before last, but—try me ?

; Cur. I will. But I must begin at the beginning, or you
wjon't understand. A good many years ago, when I was only
a. boy, I fell in love. You understand how it is? been there
yourself, eh ?

; Jack. Yes, bad.

iC jr. Knew you had, or I'd never have told you. Well,
she was the sweetest, dearest, lov—but you said you'd beenIO

A POLITICAL PULL.

there. Well, I kept trying to get my courage up to the point
of coming to the point, when what do you think happened? \
Jack. Married the other fellow ?	(

Cur. Yes, by George, a big, slab-sided idiot, who hadn't!,
sense enough to come in out of the rain, and who went around;
dearing her and loveying her, and slobbering over her in com-
pany, in the most sickening manner. Do you know I never
knew that man to do but one decent thing in his life.	;

Jack. What was that ?	j

Cur. He died. Died within two years after they wer^
married. Just think of it; married to a woman like that I,
and didn't even have sense enough to keep on living. Wellj!
then she was a widow, and there was no question of my getting
up courage enough to ask her then, but of course I had to wait
a decent, respectable time; I had to do that, you know. ;
Jack. Of course.	i

Cur. And I did.. I waited a year and#a day. I kept a
pretty sharp lookout, too, and there was nobody bothered heif
much all that time. She was engaged most of the time ori
church work. So I plucked up courage and walked in as.bolcj
as brass, and who do you think I found there ?	j

Jack. Who?	j

Cur. The minister, Mr. Snowden. Just engaged that
morning; was so glad to have a chance to introduce him to
her best friend, etc., etc. That was a blow, Jack, that was i
blow.	. i

Jac^ What did you do ?	j

Cur. I pulled myself together, and went in for politics, j
Jack. The other extreme, eh ?	j

Cur. Yes, and I was getting along pretty comfortably, n<ht
bothering much about other matters, when I had a shock. •
Jack. Him ?

Cur. Yes. He followed number one; or went the other
way, I don't know which. But things were different with me
by that time. I had learned to take time by the forelock, and
Jack, the day of the funeral—I was one of the pall bearers-r-
after the ceremony, I stepped up and said, "Kate, nothing, no,
nothing, can make me forget the respect due to you and your
position, but, when the proper time comes, I shall have some-
thing to say to you." She must have understood that, don't
you think, Jack?

Jack. Well, I should say so; if I had your nerve-- j

Cur. Nerve. Jack, I have no more nerve than a fieldA POLITICAL PULL.

II

mouse. It was desperation gave me courage to do it. And
now the time has come; I feel that I must speak, and yet I
can't say a word, and why, tell me why?

Jack. I'm sure I don't know. You have a reputation for
generally saying what you want to say very forcibly.
; Cur. True enough, and if she were only a convention or a
jury, I am sure I could address her in terms that would move
a stone. Why, Jack, I have described a Tammany man up
for alderman in such terms that his best friend voted against
h im, thinking he was the reform candidate, and I have drawn
a, picture of a deceased city treasurer that George Washington
rrjiight have been proud to own as a likeness, but when it comes
to facing the most beautiful of women and telling her in suita-
ble terms that my life's happiness depends on her favor, I can't
djo it, and it is the fault of those two confounded, interfering
imbeciles.

j Jack. Number one and number two.

I Cur. Yes. Just think of it. Can I start in with "dear
lcWe" when I know that it was number one's favorite term of
endearment, or "sweet angel" when I have heard number two
sty allude to her at a parish tea. Why, my most burning and
passionate declarations leave a bad taste in my mouth when I
twjonder if she is comparing my style with theirs.

i Jack. Sort of feel as though she might be thinking, this is
very well done, but Harry went down on one knee more grace-
fully. <

Cur. Yes, or that William was more select in his choice of
words. That's just it; I couldn't face the music, but, Jack,
I' ve solved the problem, and there's the solution.

i Jack (looking all around). Where ? where ?

■Cur. There. There. \ Jabbing finger at packages .*) The
mbst wonderful invention of the age. I tell you, Jack, we are
living at a wonderful time. Who could have dreamed twenty
y^ars ago that that wonderful invention would appear just in
tiijiie to save my reason.

I Jack. But what is it?

\Cur. What is it? ( Walking around it.) It's a boon to
mankind; it's the triumph of the age; well, I can't tell you
half of what it is, but you read the advertisements * they'll tell
you.

Jack. Ivory soap.

Cur. Nonsense. Fm coming to it; I'm coming to it. It's
a g raphophone.

!». OF ILL LIB.12

a political pull.

Jack (disgusted). A graphophone. All this fuss about a
graphophone. Why, what can it do for you ?

Cur. That's my secret, boy. What will it do for me?
Lay the shades of the departed for me. That's what it will do.
Talk for me. Don't you understand ? I locked myself in my
room; no one there to laugh at me; to know whether any 011^
had ever said the same thing before; no small sister to come
bouncing in to interrupt me; no dazzling presence to over-
whelm me suddenly, and make me stutter and stammer like a|n
ass of a boy of twenty-one. No offence, no offence, Jack, ycju
know. But just think of the magnificence of it. I said my
say without a tremor, as brave as a lion, and when I got througla,
were my words wasted on the desert air ? No, sir; there they
were (picking up package) and here they are, hard and fast. ;

Jack. The cylinder. Hurrah, put her on, and let's he&r
her.	i

Cur. No, that part is not meant for you' to hear, Jack.
There is only one person in the world that I'd be- willing to
have hear that, and I won't be around when she does. Donu't
you see, that's another beauty of it. It can say it in my voice
but without being embarrassed or thinking of numbers one ai^d
two, and it won't mind if she laughs at it for being an old
fool. You don't think she'll laugh at it, Jack, do you? |
Jack. Well, I don't know. It's rather queer.	j

Cur. That's just it. That's why I told you. It is rather
queer, isn't it? Better throw the thing out, eh? I'm suje
she'll laugh at it.	_	' p

Enter Kate.	\

Kate. What is it that we are to laugh at?	j

Cur. A joke I was telling Jack, ha, ha, very funny, Jacjk,
ha,Jia, wasn't it, Jack? (Aside to Jack, pointing to graph-
ophone.) Get it out. Get it out.	1
Kate. Isn't it funny enough for three?

Cur. No, not near funny enough. In fact, it's the worst
joke I ever heard. What do you mean by telling such a poor
joke, Jack?" {Aside.) Get it out, get it out, I say, or she'll
start it going while I'm here.

(Jack picks it up and starts for door.)	I

Kate. What's that you have there, Jack ?

Cur. Oh, it's nothing, nothing at all, just a little presenta political pull.

*3

Jack's brought fof Ruth. Take it to her, Jack, take it to her.
(£xit Jack.) Nice boy, Jack; always doing something nice
like that.

Kate. But what was it ?

Cur. What was it ? I don't know. How should I know ?
But it must be very nice, or Jack wouldn't have brought it.

Kate. And there is something else on the table.

Cur. Don't touch it. It's Jack's; he wouldn't like it,
you know. I'll give it to him. ( Calling.) Here, Jack, Jack,
you rascal, come here. It's very careless of you to leave
things lying around in this way. (Jack comes, to door.
Curtis crosses over with package watching Kate. She turns
away. He shoves package under chair, and makes violent mo-
tions for Jack to go, then grabs him ; aside to Jack.) Don't
forget to keep Ruth out. (Pushes him out; aloud.) Don't do
it again. (Comes down.) And that boy wants to be my pri-
vate secretary. Wants to get into politics, he says. Hum,
ilooks as though I might have to get out of them after the first
Tuesday in November.

Kate. Don't say that. I'm sure you'll be elected, and it's
£he very thing I want to talk to you about.

Cur. You ought to talk to McManus. He can tell you
■more than I can. If I am elected, it will be due to him.
\ Kate. Oh, I wish I could help. (They sit on sofa.) It's
^uch a grand thing to be making a brave uphill fight such as
yours, for good government and right and honesty? To be a
\voman and have to sit with your hands folded, and just watch,
is maddening.

Cur. Not help. Nonsense. They tell me that I made the
best speech I ever made in my life last night; and why ? be-
cause I'd just left you, and I was heartened and strengthened by
your sympathy and enthusiasm for good schools and good
^rater and good government and everything good. You are
the greatest campaign speaker I know. After half an hour's
talk with you I'm so sure of the innate good of humanity that
I even expect common councilmen to be honest.

Kate. I know you are laughing at me. But isn't there
imething I can really do? I'm so full of energy and so proud
/ knowing such a great man, that I would be glad to stand on
a corner and distribute circulars dilating on your many virtues.
Why, I brag about you to all my friends.

Cur. Kate, Kate, I'm ashamed of you; to poke fun at a
poor, defenceless fellow who has thrown himself on your mercy.



A POLITICAL PULL.


  KATE.' But I'm not altogether in fun, John. I am proud
of you and of your work.
  CUR. Are you, Kate, are you ? Do you really mean it?
If you only knew what that meant to me, you wouldn't joke
about it.
  KATE. Well, then, I won't. I do mean it, and I want you
to let me prove it by doing something for your work. I want,
to contribute five hundred dollars to the campaign fund.
  CUR. Kate, I'm sorry, but I can't do it. I tell you frankly,;
it would be a help; you know I'm not rich, but I can't let my
friends pay my bills. I am proud and glad to say that I have.
friends who would let me have all I need for the asking; and,\
in fact, it has been offered to me before, without the asking,
but from a source that made it impossible for me to accept.
  KATE. I suppose you think it would have been looked on{
as a bribe.
  CUR. Well, something of that kind.  (Aside.) I would,
probably have been uncle to Jack by this time if I had taken it
from her.
  KATE. But in taking it from me, there would be nothing
of the kind. Come. You needn't even see it; I'll send it t
McManus.
  CUR. Get thee behind me, Satan. No, no, it can't be
done, Kate. But don't think that I don't appreciate it. I'viq
always known that no man ever had a better, truer, dearet
friend than you have been to me. Why, for years, every
thought -
              Enter JACK and RUTH quickly.
   RUTH. Mr. Curtis, here's a letter for you, marked iir-
portant.
  JACK (aside). I did my best, but I couldn't hold her in
another minute.
   RUTH. And Mr. Curtis, Jack says you have the records for
the graphophone. Where are they ?
  CUR. They're on the road. Never fear, they'll get here.
A dozen good ones. "Ta ra ra boom de ay " and '"A Hot
Time," etc. (Aside.) Another ten dollars that might ha'e
gone for campaign expenses.  I'll break that boy's neck.
( Opens letter. )
   KATE (to RUTH). If you don't take Jack out of here this
instant, miss, I'll put you on bread and water for a week.
   RUTH (tossing her head). Come on, Jack, I guess we're


14


a political pull.

15

mot wanted around here. Kate's too much taken up with
politics.	[Exit with Jack.

Cur. (reads letter and crushes it up in hand; aside). That
confounded aunt of Jack's has sent the money she offered me,
to McManus.

Kate (aside). I wonder if it is from Mr. McManus ; I'm
afraid he'll be dreadfully angry about the five hundred dollars.
(Aloud.) I hope your letter didn't contain bad news. You
don't seem pleased.

Cur. Oh, but I am. At least, I should be ; McManus says
I'm as good as elected.

Kate. I'm so glad. What has happened ?

Cur. Oh, Mac has gotten some money, and hired halls
and brass bands and things, and is making things rotate gen-
erally.

Kate (<cautiously). He doesn't say where he got it, does
he?

Cur. Of course not. Of course not. Why should he?
there's no reason he should. {Aside.) When Kate finds out
that it was that woman's money elected me,' I'm done for.

Kate (aside). He might at least look as though he were
glad he had it. (Aloud.) Don't give any idea who it was ?

Cur. Well, not much. He says it was an angel. (Aside.)
No hopes of keeping it dark; it's probably all over the ward
by this time.

Kate. Well, I must say, you don't seem very enthusiastic.
Don't you think you might at least say you are obliged to her ?

Cur. That's just like a woman. To think all angels must
be females. How do you know it's not a male angel ? Any-
way, I wish she had gone on attending to her heavenly affairs,
; arid left terrestrial ones to take care of themselves.

I Kate (getting angry). I'm disappointed in you, John.
: How ungrateful you are. She was trying to do you a favor.

Cur. (aside). Good gracious, she knows all about it. I
believe the old vixen must have told her she was going to send
it. (Aloud.) That's the way with these well meaning people,
they're always presuming, and-

; /Kate. Presuming. John Curtis, let me tell you that if the
person who sent it hadn't thought that you would be glad to
taike it from her, and wanted to help you, which is more than
you deserve, she'd never have thought of sending it.

Cur. (aside). I knew she knew it. No wonder she's angry
after I refused her money. (Aloud.) But I tell you I gave16	A POLITICAL PULL.	j.

her no reason to think I would take it from her. Do you mea.ji
to tell me that after what I said to you about it, any one i^i
their sane senses could think that I would accept their money ?

Kate (half crying). Well, I hope no one will ever try tip
do anything for you again as long as you live, and I hate youi,
and I'll never speak to you again.	[Exitj.

Cur. That settles it. A nice mess I've made of things.
Refused downright to take Kate's money, and now she believes
that I encouraged that—angel, as Mac says, to send it to me.
And I've got to be grateful for it. - No, I'll be hanged if I wiljl.
I'll go out and get five hundred dollars, if I have to rob a bank
or pawn my campaign badges, and I'll pay it back; and theft,
I'll take it out on the ward. I'll go down there and raise such
particular cain that they will think Bill Bryan or Sockless Jerry
Simpson has struck town. Yes, I'm done with women. I
don't understand them. Now why should Kate want me to be
grateful to another woman, anyhow? Well, politics are the'
thing, and I understand Mac, anyhow. If I can't speak to
her, I'll make her hear of me. I'll make a name for mysejf
that—that—confound the name, what do I care for any name,
unless it's her name.	^	\_Exit.

Enter Jack and Ruth.

Ruth. I wonder why - Mr. Curtis left so suddenly. J
wanted to ask him about those things for the graphophone.

Jack. It's my private opinion that you'll get those records
when the cows come home. (Goes over and looks undzr
chair.) ?By Jupiter, he's left it.

Ruth. What ?w

Jack. His proposal. (Unwraps it.)

Ruth. Jack, it isn't. Honor bright ? Let's look at it.

Jack. But I say, something must be done. He hasn't
given it to her. . His courage must have failed at the last
minute. It's a shame.	•

Ruth. Jack, our finding it is a dispensation of providence.
We'll do it for him. Quick, get the machine. (They get it
and put record on.) There, now to send sister in to hear it.;

Jack. I wonder what he says. Don't you think we mi^ht
just start it?	*	■	' \

Ruth. Jack, I'm ashamed of you. Not one word. But,
oh, I'm afraid to look at it, for fear I should. Quick, qui^k,
let's take ourselves out of the way of temptation. I don't
know how long my virtue will hold out. You carry it ifntoa political pull.

the next room, so no one will interrupt her, and I'll call her.
But remember, I'm watching you. (Jack carries graphophone
out, and she goes to other door and calls.) Kate, Kate.
(; Runs quickly out of other door and brings Jack in by his
ear,)

Enter Kate.

• Ruth. Kate, there's a surprise for you in the next room.

; Jack. It's altogether the jolliest thing I ever heard.
Q4side.) I'm a villain to go back on aunt in this way.

j Ruth. Do hurry and hear it, Kate.

.Jack. And we'll stay outside and watch.

\ Ruth. No one will come. You just turn the button, you
know.

Jack. It's on the table, and we don't know anything about
it, you know. (Both run off'.)

Kate, What are those children up to now ? Some joke
about their graphophone, I suppose. Just at present I can't say
I feel much like joking. Poor John. I was cross with him,
but then he deserved it. To speak so about me. To be sure
he didn't know it was me, but he ought to have guessed, and
he; was very rude. And I'll be very severe with him, when he
comes back—when he comes back;' but if he doesn't come;
of'course, he'll come. It would be absurd of him not to come
—/-but perhaps I'd better not be too severe.

i (Jack and Ruth poke their heads through doorway.)

Ruth. Not gone yet, sister ?

\Japk. Really, it's too good to keep, Mrs. Snowden.

Kate. Yes, yes, I'm going. (Heads withdrawn ; rising.)
Blessed children; all their worries and troubles are ahead of
then,. Oh, deary me; no, no, I don't think I'll be really
hard on John—when he comes back to me.	[Exit.

:	(.Heads poked out again.)

Jac c. Has she gone ?

}Ru' 'h. Yes; come right away, Jack.; we might hear some-
thing; and it would be downright wicked. (Heads disappear.)

Enter Curtis, hurriedly.

Cur By George, I'm all in a cold perspiration. (.During
speech looks all over room, under chairs, tables, etc.) I'd
gone almost a mile before I thought of it, and the rate at
which I came back marks me as a suspicious character for life.i8

A POLITICAL PULL.

I

{Looks under chair.) I'd swear I put it under that chair■
(Searches further.) At 19th Street, I was sure a policeman)
would stop me. (Peers back of piano.) If he had, I'd have?,
knocked him down. Ah, there it is. No, it's gone. (Sinki
into chair.) Well, that's the last straw. I suppose it's in tht*
kitchen, being ground out before the butler, or Ruth is exj
hibiting it before a select circle of friends ; or Jack—Jacl£
knew, he may have hidden it in the next room. I wonder if
there is any one there to prevent my looking for it. (Cau)-
tiously peeps through curtain.) Kate, by Jove, and looking a:,s
bonny as a picture. . How could I ever expect such a womaih
to love me? I'll go down on my knees and beg her pardon ;;
call myself a brute, a beast, and abuse myself so, that in very
decency she'll have to take my part. Dear girl, she can't stop
my loving her, even if she won't let me cherish and protedt
her. I wonder what she's doing. (.Looks.) What? What'ls
that in front of her ? the graphophone, with the record on it!
Stop her. Stop her, somebody; stop her, quick; shall I—noS,
let her hear it; I'm not ashamed of it. It will show her tha^t
she is all the world to me, and then she will understand how (I
felt about the money. {Looks again, and then draws back.j)
Have I the right? Yes, I think a man certainly has the right
to be present at his own proposal. There, it starts; ah, \l
know so well what it is saying—Kate, there is something that jl
have been longing to say to you for years; that has been ifi
my heart since boyhood. Will she laugh at it, I wonder? Or
be angry? Why, she's on her knees in front of it; listening
as though she cared. It can't be true. Oh, if I only knew
how far it had gotten. I can't endure it, to let a soulless ma-
chine go on with its endless grinding, when I am longing to lie
with her, pouring out the tenderness and devotion that fills iriy
heart, as I know I tan now. (Tears aside curtain.) Kat*e,
Kate, don't listen to that; listen to me.	\_Exiit.

(Jack's and Ruth's heads appear again.)	I:

Ruth. Jack, I'm sure I heard some one.	$

Jack. Nonsense. It was just my heart beating, don't you
hear it, pit-a-pat, pit-a-pat. (They come in.) Ruth, do y<bu
know, I feel real guilty about going back on aunt in this wayf.

Ruth. Don't worry. She knows that there are as go6d
fish in the sea as have ever been caught, and she's fond of fislh-
ing. I wonder if Kate has heard it all yet?	/

Jack. I don't know, and I don't care. I know something1

A POLITICAL PULL.

19

better than listening to a dead, heartless graphophone. (Ar-
ranges two chairs with their backs to the audience.') There,
you come over here, and sit right close, and I'll tell you all
about my political career. (They sit.)

Ruth (with a sigh of contentmenf). Jack, do you know, I
don't really mind you're not being artistic, for you're such a
nice boy, Jack.

; Enter Curtis with his arm around Kate.

Cur. And when I'm elected, we'll go to Washington, and
you will outshine them all.

Kate. And you've forgiven me for being so horrid to you.

; Cur. Horrid ! Why, Kate, you're the dear-

'(Jack's and Ruth's heads pop up over back of chairs.)

\ Jack. A-hem !

( Ruth. We're here, sister.

Cur. (laughing). You blessed children, you don't think
we mind you, do you? Why, Paradise is just full of such
cherubs as you.

Jagk (to Ruth). Hum ! Both departeds must be having
a warm time, as I don't see any place for them in Paradise.

/	Enter McManus, highly excited.

,oMcM. Here they come, mam. Here they come, Mr.
.Vurtis. (Rushes to window.)

Rirra } ^ko? What? ( Rush to other window.)

McM: The byes. Don't you hear the band ? (Band and
commotion heard outside.) Hear them shout. ( Coming down.)
Didn't I tell you things would begin to come our way, mam ?

Kate. But you haven't told them that I-

McM. Niver fear. Divil a word. I just marched them
around to escort Mr. Curtis to the meeting, and to see your
pretty face.

: Ruth (at window with Jack). Look at the torches.

Jack. And the high hats.

, Ruth. And the sashes.

i Jack. They're calling for you, Mr. Curtis.

McM. Just listen to the babies. (Drags Curtis to other
window. Swings hat around head.) Hurra' ! Hurra' !

/ Cur. Come look at them, Kate. (Bows and waves hand
at; window.)20	a political , pull.	\

' . 1
McM. (rushes back and leads Kate to window). Sure, all
the byes are fond of a pretty face. (Comes down againj)
Bless her bright* eyes, a weddin' would be worth .fifty votes. /
Ruth. Oh, they're starting.	_;\

McM. What? {Rushing out.*) Stop! Whoa !x Hi!

[ Exit.

Jack. Look at the old duck with the wooden leg, dancing
a can-can.	'	v

Ruth.- Look. Look at him trying to set fire to the cross-
eyed man's whiskers.

Cur. There's Mac.	I

Kate. Why, he's making them an oration.

Cur. .They're all looking at you, Kate. They're cheering
you. Lord only knows what he's told them.	;

Kate. I don't care. I'll love them all, if they'll only
elect you.

Ruth. Just look at him. Look at him. He's settled the
wooden legged one. He's getting them into line. See him bang
them around. (Throwing herself on Jack.) Oh, I could
just hug him.	•	/

Jack. Here. Hold on; I want to be embraced for myself
alone. Not for McManus.	•

Enter McManus.	\

McM. (rushing in). Come along, Mr. Curtis. Corn^
along, young mon. You look as though you had a good pair
of lungs.

Cur. All ready. Good-bye, Kate, good-bye. I'll be
back.	-

Kate. Soon, please ? And, oh, speak for me, too.

Jack. Secretary's ready, sir.	\ •

Ruth. Good-bye, Jack, good-bye. Look out for the
wooden legged man.	\ :

McM. There goes the band. . Come on.	;

All. Good-bye. Good-bye.	\All exeunt.

(Kate and Ruth rush to windows. Loud cheer front
street. They wave ha?idkerchiefs. Band grows fainter ;
they turn toward each other.)	j

CURTAIN.NEW PLAYS.

Nan, the Mascotte.

A Comedy-Drama in Four Acts.

By GILBERT PATTEN.

Nine male, four female characters. Scenery not difficult; costumes
modern. An up-to-date American melodrama, full of action and interest.
This piece was originally, produced by professional talent under the title
of " Men of Millions," and was a great success. It has been played from
manuscript by amateurs for several seasons, but is now printed for the
first time. Its characters are all effective and nearly all of fairly even
prominence. Soubrette, strong lead, strong "heavy," "hayseed" and
" dude " low comedy, and " old maid." Three men and one woman may
"double," thus reducing cast by four people. Strongly recommended.
Plays two and a half hours. Permission to perform must be obtained
from the author.

Price . . . . . » • 25 Cents.

SYNOPSIS:

ACT I.— Caleb's home. Social ambitions. " Borrying." Nan, the
mascotte. The cut finger. " If mother should see us." Laying down the
law. An unwelcome return. A bitter disappointment. Her husband.
" You have not seen the last of me ! " Deacon Smartweed and the " wid-
der." The see-saw. The accident. "What'll the parson say?" An es-
trangement. Flood's return. The meeting. " That blow is enough." The
murder.

ACT II.—In New York. Lawyer vs. doctor. The speculator. The life
of "Wall street. The mascotte. The mysterious chamber. "The man is
mad." Nan and the dude. The real man. In society. Prompting Cupid.
A " duck " and a " quack." Eavesdropping. An understanding. A finan-
cial crisis. The wolf in sheep's clothing. The cat's out. Breakers
ahead.

ACT III.— The Deacon's visit. A changed wife. Golden Queen stock.
The mascotte's warning. The dude and the deacon. " Dunno's I ever saw
anythin' like that before." The lantern. " Some garden sass for Sister
Baldwin." The red Indian. The hour of trouble. Sacrificing her child.
The black door. The big chief and the butler. A fateful letter. His re-
venge. A fearful price. A ruined man. Nan to the rescue. Saved.

ACT IV".— Back in the country. A dude sportsman. "A weglar
wuffian." A trial shot. " Gweat Motheth ! the hat wath on a manth head."
The Deacon's experiences. Frackett's goat. The widow's rescue. Butted
into matrimony. Flood's escape. A false report. A blessing in disguise.
The secret of the room. Jimsy again. Hunted down. The arrest. Nan's
enlightenment. For better or for worse. " What'll the parson say ? "

An Awkward 5quad.

;	A Sketch in One Scene.

By ROBERT H. BAKER.

Eight male characters, two ver,y subordinate. A very rapid and viva-
cious fifteen-minute sketch, suitable for vaudeville purposes, turning
upcjn a timely military subject. Irish, Dutch, "hayseed" and "dude"
conjiedy parts. All right.

(	Price.......15 Cents.

!	Sent, postpaid, on receipt of price, by

BAKER, 5 HAMILTON PLACE, BOSTON, MASS.A NEW CANTATA FOR CHILDREN.

A DREAM of the FLOWERS

Consisting of Songs, Choruses, Recitations,
Dialogues, Etc.

By NELLIE E. CASE.

For fourteen little girls, one little boy and chorus. Costumes fanciful
but easily gotten up. No scenery needed, though it can be employed to
advantage. This cantata primarily celebrates May Day, introducing a
May-pole Dance, but it is good and not unsuitable for performance at
any season. It is published complete with music, pretty and very easy.
This piece is the work of an experienced teacher, familiar with the needs
and limitations of children, and is offered with confidence.

Price....... 25 Cents.

A NEW EDITION.

BALLADS IN BLACK.

A Series of Readings to be Produced as Shadow
Pantomimes.

With full directions for representation. Illustrated with fifty full-
page drawings in silhouette, by J. F. Goodrich.

CONTENTS:

In Pawn. A Shadow Pantomime in Four Acts and a Prologue; ei^ht
illustrations.

Drink. A Temperance Shadow Pantomime; eight illustrations.
Orpheus, the Organ-Grinder. A Musical Shadow Pantomime; six
illustrations.

Anonymous. A Nameless Narrative; six illustrations.

Driggs and his Double. A Pantomime Paradox; eight illustrations.

Cinderella. A new version of an old story; eight illustrations.

Price, paper covers ... 50 Cents.

We have a limited number of these pantomimes, published separately,
which we can furnish at 15 cents per copy until the edition is exhausted.
Cinderella is quite out of print and cannot be supplied save in the 50-
cent book.	!TWO NEW COMEDIES.

CLOVER FARM.

A Farce Comedy in Three Acts.

By GILBERT PATTEN.

Eight male, three female characters, Scenery easy, costumes modern.
A screaming farce, full of fun and action. The unusual evenness of op-
portunity that this piece offers to its actors is remarkable. There are,
literally, no small parts. In its original production, and in subsequent
performances from the manuscript, it has always been a laughing suc-
cess. Slippery Gibbs, the burglar, and the Rev. Herbert Goodman, with
whom he is confounded, are capital parts, and Salamander Sharp, the
detective, a screamer. Even "the cat" is a strong part. We can fully
recommend the piece for amateurs or professionals. Plays two and one-
half hours. Permission to produce must be obtained from the author.

Price . *.....25 Cents.

SYNOPSIS:

ACT I.— At Clover Farm. The old cat. A parson incog. The new
boarder. False whiskers. " What's your little game?" A fair swap.
The burglar's vacation. Jennie and the Count. A son of Yale. A domes-
tic breeze. "Here's where I make me bluff." An amateur parson. The
veiled lady. The female detective. A little scrimmage. A French duel.
Detective Sharp. " The untired sleuth-hound of the law." A wrong
steer. The elopement. " It was the cat! "

ACT II.— At the picnic. The fire-eater takes water. Scarcely a
suicide. A desperate man. An extempore comedy. "Great Caesar!
what a scrape!" A double misunderstanding. A bothered burglar.
"The lynx-eyed ferret of justice." A wrong scent. A humorous alliance.
Jim and the pie. The tramp. "I can't — I've got my pants off! " The
murderous Count* Explanations. Forcing her hand. Married by a
burglar. " The never-beaten detective." The wrong man.

ACT III.— Sunrise in the barn-yard. On guard. Asleep at his post.
" You have ruined our plans." A howlin' toothache. A set-back for the
sleuth-hound. The parson himself again. Highway robbery. The ad-
vantages of being deaf. " Don't tell me my child is married to a nigger! "
The last of the Count. " The blow it near killed father." Facing it out.
Bliss and rapture. Slippery Gibbs. " Bless you, my children, bless you,"

A Bachelor's Banquet,

OR, AN INDIGESTIBLE ROHANCE.

A Farce in One Act.

By LEWIS D. HUMPHREY.

/ Three male, three female characters. Costumes and scenery simple.
Printed as originally produced at Radcliffe College, Cambridge. An ex-
cellent farce of the high class popularized by Mr. Howells, its humor
abundant but refined, its story vivacious and amusing but entirely sane
and possible. All parts good. Plays rapidly a full hour.

Price.......15 Cents.

;	Sent, postpaid\ on receipt of price, by

BAKER, 5 HAMILTON PLACE, BOSTON, MASS.LATEST PLAYS.

The Old Maids' Convention.

AN ENTERTAINMENT IN ONE SCENE.
By LAURA M. PARSONS.

Author of "Jerusha Dow's Family Album," " The .District
School at Blueberry Corners," Etc.

One male, twenty female characters and specialties. Costumes eccen-
tric; scenery unimportant; can be produced on a platform without any.
This is an excellent version of a widely popular entertainment which has
long existed in manuscript, but is now for the first time offered in print.
It is practically for all female characters, since Prof. Pinkerton, its one
man, may be represented by a lady, if desired. "Pinkerton's Electric
Transform(h)er " is a marvelous invention, whatever the sex of its dis-
coverer, and is capable of creating great amusement. This entertainment,
of which it is a feature, is brightly and humorously written, and moves
along briskly to a laughable conclusion. Lots of good characters and
opportunity for specialties. A worthy successor to the popular " Prof.
Baxter's Great Invention." Plays an hour and a half with specialties.

Price, . • • . 25 Cents.

SYNOPSIS.

Scene.—The Old Maids' Matrimonial Club. The Club in executive
session. Quotations. An unpopular sentiment. The Secretary's report.
The report of the Treasurer. " Candy kisses." The Lookout Committee.
" Widower Goodhope." A bachelor by the name of Rigby. " I don't care
if he hasn't a dollar." A few suggestions toward the propagation of
matrimony. The club in debate. A literary interlude. Prof. Pinkerton's
advent. A scientific exposition. Testimonials. " Before using your
Transform(h)er I was totally blind, arid now I can see my finish." The
great invention at work. " Blonde or brunette ? " Old maids made new.
A great success. A difficult case. Somewhat overdone. "The machine
can make no mistake." A hard problem. " I want to be a man." The Pro-
fessor phazed but not daunted. " Drink the stuff and pile in." An explosion
— of laughter.

POPPING BY PROXY.

A FARCE IN ONE ACTV
By O. E. YOUNG.

Two male, four female characters. Scenery easy, costumes rustic. This
is a very amusing, if somewhat athletic farce, suitable for the young and
robust, and likely to be popular among people who rejoice in practical
joking and high animal spirits. It is distinctly not a drawing-room play,
but is full of good, broad, boisterous fun, and tells a very entertaining
story. Plays forty-five minutes.

Price, .... 15 Cents.

Sent, postpaidon receipt of price, by	-\

BAKER, 5 HAMILTON PLACE, BOSTON, MASS./IN

TThF MATtKTP ATF I A Farce in Three Acts. By Arthur W.	•/.:

1 1 ■L1- i ivn. i !-.♦ | pIXKRO< Twelve male, four female char-	/|^

- acters. Costumes, modern; scenery, all

interior. The merits of this excellent and amusing piece, one of the mostpopu-	/|\

lar of its author's plays, are well attested by long and repeated runs in the	VI;
principal American theatres. 11 is of the highest class of dramatic writing, and

is uproariously funny, and at the same time unexceptionable in tone. Its entire	v;

suitability for amateur performance has been shown by hundreds of such pro-	fi\
ductions from manuscript during the past three years. Plays two hours and

a half. (1802.)	fk\

A Drama in Four Acts. By Arthur "W. yw\
plxero. Eight male and five female charac-
ters; scenery, all interiors. This is a "prob-
lem " play continuing the series to which " The
Profligate " and "The Second Mrs. Tanquerav"

THE NOTORIOUS
MRS. EBBSMITH.

THE SECOND
MRS. TANQUERAY,

%

belong, and while strongly dramatic, and intensely interesting is not suited for
amateur performance. It is recommended for Heading Clubs. (1895.)

'T*ILTT7 PPCYmT TC A TP I A in Four Acts. By Arthur w. Pine-
A	STsSsJi.	1	ko. Seven male and five female characters.

-' Scenery, three interiors, rather elaborate;

costumes, modern. This is a piece of serious interest, powerfully dramatic in
movement, and tragic in its event. An admirable play, but not suited for ama-

nio\eiiit.il l/, aim iiiij^iu hi ii<o cvciiu	auuiiitiuny	auucu iui «iina-

teur performance. (1892.)	fm\

m

ns

THE SCHOOLMISTRESS. I

■ ■	' male characters. Costumes, mod-

ern; scenery, three interiors, easily arranged. This ingenious and laughable
farce was pi tyed by .Miss Kosina Vokes during her last season in America with
great success. Its plot is amusing, its action rapid and full of incident, its dia-
logue brilliant, and its scheme of character especially jicli in quaint and humor-
ous types. The Hon. Vere Queekett and Peggy are especially strong. The piece
is in all respects suitable for amateurs. (1894.)

W

m

(US

is

A Play in Four Acts. By Arthur W.
Pinero. Eight male and five female char-
acters. Costumes, modern : scenery, three
interiors. This well-known and powerful
play is not well suited for amateur per-

W

formance. It is offered to Mr. Pinero's admirers among the reading public in

answer to the demand which its wide discussion as an acted play has created.	Mr
(1894.) Also in Cloth, $1.00.

OTFFT T AVFISTDFP I A Comedy in Three Acts. By Arthur	^1/

W 1 V | w PlNERO> Seven male and four female	JY'a

—J characters. Scene, a single interior, the	\l#

same for all three acts: costumes, modern and fashionable. This well known	^1.

and popular piece is admirably suited to amateur players, by whom it has been	%l#
often given during the last few years. Its story is strongly sympathetic, and its

comedy interest abundant and strong. (1893.)	%l#

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entertaining piece, of strong dramatic interest and admirable satirical humor.	l[|4

(1892.)	Mf

vf/

THF \X7FAK"FR ^F"5f I A Comedy in Three Acts. By Arthur
W	OEu\* | w. Pinero. Eight male and eight female

characters. Costumes, modern : scenery,	vr

THE TIMES I A Comedy in Four Acts. By Arthur W. Pinero. Six
lxx1- i uyuaJ* j male and seven female characters. Scene, a single ele-
gant interior: costumes, modern and fashionable. An

' 11 < l I . I' L "I o. V'>.sLlllllt'?*, 111' "11 I II . M t	.a,

two interiors, not difficult. This very amusing comedy was a popular feature of	ml/
the repertoire of Mr. and Mrs. Kendal in this country. It presents a plot of

strong dramatic interest, and its incidental satire of " Woman's Rights" em-	ml#
plovs some admirably humorous characters, and inspires many very clever lines.

Its leading characters are unusually even in strength and prominence, which	ml/

makes it a very satisfactory piece for amateurs. (1894.)	Mr

| NEW OPERETTAS FOR CHILDREN.

|EDITH'S DREAM

W	Sin Operetta for Ojtltircn.	$

ll\	w

/IS Words by MARGARET FEZANDIE and EDGAR MORETTE, /|\

4S	Music by EUGENE FEZANDIE, Jr.	/ft

*|S

^ Eleven characters, girls and boys, or all girls, as preferred ; ten or more addi-

yiV	tional for chorus. Scenery unnecessary ; costumes, pretty and fanciful, but
"3 easilv arranged at home. This admirable little niece is minted conmlete with

4*



easily arranged at home. This admirable little piece is printed complete with
music. It is very tuneful and gracefully imagined, and is strongly recommended
for private theatricals or for schools. It is particularly well suited for the latter
use, as it deals whimsically with the question of youthful study, inculcating,
however, an excellent moral.

Price.....35 cents.

I ODD OPERAS^ EVENTIDE. f

t^ ----------

A Collection of Short and Simple Musical
Entertainments for Children.

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By MRS. G. N. BORDMAN.

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M/

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Ui This collection provides a simple operetta, a fairy opera, a picturesque motion
W song, a quaint musical pantomime, a pretty musical sketch, and two original
** *" humorous recitations for children, complete, with all the niusie, and full instruc-
tions for performance. The music is tuneful and simple, and is specially written
with the tastes and limitations of children in view. The solos are easily learned
and sung, and all the choruses are written for voices in unison. The collection
is strongly recommended for its simplicity and perfect practicability. Neither
stage nor scenery is demanded, nor any other requirements that cannot be met
without trouble by the equipment of the ordinary hall or church vestry, and the
zeal of the most economical committee of arrangements.

w	»rice . . . • . 50 cents#

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CONTENTS.

A Glimpse of the Brownies. A

M usical Sketch for Children. Any
number of boys.

Market Day. An Operetta for Young

W People. Seven speaking parts and
chorus.

Queen Flora's Day Dream. An

Operetta for Children; Six speak-
ing parts and chorus.

The Boating Party. A Musical
Sketch for Little Children. Thirty
boys and girls.

Six Piffle Grandmas. A Musical
Pantomime for very Little Children.
Six very little girls.

Jimmy Crow. A Recitation for a
Little Girl.

A House in tlie Moon. A Recita-
tion for a Child.This book is a preservation facsimile produced for
the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign.
It is made in compliance with copyright law
and produced on acid-free archival

60# book weight paper
which meets the requirements of
ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 (permanence of paper).

Preservation facsimile printing and binding
by

Northern Micrographics
Brookhaven Bindery
La Crosse, Wisconsin
2019