Parted by Patience
A FARCE IN ONE ACT

By Bessie Blair

Smith

Author of "A Considerable Courtship "

PHILADELPHIA

THE P E N N PUBLISHING COMPANY
1916

COPYRIGHT 1904 BY T H E PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY

Parted by Patieno©

Parted by Patience
CHARACTERS
M R . ROBERT ALLEN.
M R . NORMAND BELL.
A U N T PATIENCE.
MRS. ROBERT ALLEN.
MISS ELEANOR CORY.

COSTUMES
Summer dresses and suits, with straw hats, etc*

3

Parted by Patience
SCENE.—The hall of M R . ALLEN'S suburban residence.
Several pictures of M R . ALLEN decorate the room.
Doors, R. and i,. Small table and rocker, L. Sofa and
chair, R. Curtain rising shows AUNT PATIENCE seated
in a rocking-chair, knitting, with doleful shakings of the
head, and plaintive sniffings. She speaks with a melancholy whine.
AUNT PATIENCE. There ain't no doubt in my mind but
what the Bible's right where it sez we're all born to trouble,
but it do seems's if some folks hez more sorrer put on to 'em
than what they was born to ! I ain't like some people, always a frndin' fault, and nobody can't say as I ain't resigned, but I can't swaller soup that's salt enough to float
an egg, and Job couldn't a done it nuther ! There ain't no
sense in a girl's dumpin' the hull salt-box into things, and I
ain't a-goin' to stay here much longer if she keeps on a-doin'
it! Guess Abner's family would like to have me come and
cheer 'em up a spell, and Abner's wife's so mortal stingy,
there ain't no danger of too much salt in her victuals!
{Enter MRS. ALLEN, R . )

MRS. ALLEN. Oh, auntie, have you seen anything of
Miss Cory ? I promised I would show her a lot of things
Robert wore when he was a little fellow ; she remembers
him when he was a tot, you know, and of course is so interested !
AUNT PATIENCE (rising).
Oh, she was set tin* here a
minute ago. Went off with her nose up in the air as if she
smelt something, 'cause I told her I didn't see how any girl
could set around with her hands in her lap, eatin' the bread
of idleness the way she does.
MRS. ALLEN. Why, auntie, how rude ! Of course she
does not work while she is visiting. It is perfectly delight5

6

P A R T E D BY PATIENCE

ful to have an old friend of Robert's to talk to about him.
I have enjoyed every minute she has been here.
{Exit
AUNT PATIENCE, R.

Enter

Miss CORY, L . )

Here you

are ! Just in time ! I've made a regular raid on the attic,
and found the greatest number of things. Sit right there on
the sofa. {Drawing up chair and seating herself. Holds
up a long baby dress,,) Look at this. Isn't it lovely ? It
is Robert's christening robe. His Aunt Rachel gave it to
him,-—or was it his Grandmother Allen ? I really don't remember. Shouldn't you think it would be marked on it?
{Looking all over the garment in a troubled way.} Now
that is too bad ! Do you remember having heard ?
Miss CORY (very much bored, but trying to be polite).
No, I never did, but it is a beautiful dress, certainly.
MRS. ALLEN (e?ithusiastically).
Isn't it ! Just look at
that embroidery. It is an imported dress, you know, and
here are these little shoes. Aren't they cunning ?
MISS CORY.

Yes, indeed.

MRS. ALLEN. Does it seem possible that even Robert
could ever have had such perfect little feet! And this
dear cap. Mustn't he have looked sweet in that ?
MISS CORY (with great presence of mind).
I suppose
that is one of his baby pictures ? {Picking up one.)
MRS. ALLEN {devouring it with her eyes). Do you remember him when he looked like that?
MISS CORY {lazighing). No, indeed I don't! I suppose
I was having my pictures taken at the same time by my admiring relatives.
MRS. ALLEN {sighing).
How I do envy your having
known Robert all his life ! To think all these years he and
I have lived in different parts of the world, and never even
knew of each other !
Miss CORY. Well, you are making up for it now, aren't
you ?
MRS. ALLEN. Yes, but I shall always regret those wasted
years. Here is another baby picture ! He had curls, you
see ; lovely golden ones. He says they were red, but I
know they weren't. If his mother had only been thoughtful enough to keep one, how nice it would have been.
Really, do you know I sometimes think his mother hardly
appreciated having such a son ! {Huddling something in
her arms.)
Now what do you think I have here? I'm
sure you'll never guess ! Look ! {Holding a short dress

P A R T E D PY PATIENCE

?

at dmi* s length.*) The very dress he had on in that large
oil painting.
Miss CORY (unguardedly).
What painting ?
MRS. ALLEN. What painting ! Why, that dear, darling
one that hangs in the library. I wouldn't take a thousand
dollars for i t !
Miss CORY (vaguely).
Oh, yes !
MRS. ALLEN. Dear me, I must show you his other pictures ; there is a whole box full and we'll have a nice long
afternoon looking at them. I'll only be a minute !
(Exit,

L.)

MISS CORY {throwing herself back in despair). Well,
positively I cannot stand any more of this ! It is simply inhuman, diabolical, for that woman to invite a helpless
mortal to her house and then inflict Robert Allen in all his
phases upon her ! Robert Allen, of all people ! Ha, ha,
ha ! Little did I think when I used to see his freckled face
in Martinville, that he was destined to rise up and bore me
to death like this. Really, I think I shall become a driveling idiot if this continues ! I'd play sick and go to bed,
only I know she'd plant herself beside me with that dreadful box of " dear Robert's pictures," and dose me with
them. I'm sure no medicine could be worse !
(Jumping
up in a panic.)
Oh, here she's back again ! I'm going to
run. (Listening.)
No ! it's the aunt. (Sitting down in
rocker, L.) Dear me, I'm sure I tried hard enough to get
out of coming here, but she wouldn't let me off. I certainly had a presentiment.
(Enter

A U N T PATIENCE.)

AUNT PATIENCE (dolefully).

I ain't one of the com-

plainin' kind, and it's a cause for great thanksgivin' that I
can allers see the light amid the encirclin' gloom, but there's
times when there ain't no way of bein' cheerful, and if I
was the kind that was allers a-makin' trouble, there'd be
some changes in this house mighty quick !
MISS CORY.

Why, what is the matter ?

AUNT PATIENCE. Matter ! Well it's a good deal of
matter if you could see the waste agoin' on in that kitchen.
It makes me sick ! Enough throwed out every meal to
keep a hull family, and I tellin' Hattie and a-tellin' her,

8

P A R T E D BY PATIENCE

but you might jest as well set down and pour water onto a
duck's back ; she ain't got the first notion of keepin' house,
Hattie ain't!
Miss CORY. Oh, she'll learn after awhile.
AUNT PATIENCE {firmly).
'Tain't likely! 'Course
Hattie don't suspicion it, but I'm pretty sure the reason
Robert was so set against her invitin' you here, was 'cause
he never knew what kind of a mess she'd give you to eat.
Miss CORY. Why, I'm sure he need not have felt that
way. Everything is very nice, indeed.
AUNT PATIENCE. Oh, I know you don't seem to mind !
I jest set every meal and watch what a lot you can eat.
It's jest wonderful, and you'd ought to be mighty thankful
you don't get sick.
Miss CORY {stiffly).
This is certainly the first time I
have ever been told my appetite was remarkable.
AUNT PATIENCE. Well, you hadn't ought to get ^ a d
about it ! But, land sakes, that wa'n't the reason Robert
gave to Hattie. He kept a-tellin' how stuck up you was,
*=\nd how your folks wa'n't any great shakes nohow; owed
everybody in town, he said, and never meant to pay 'em
nuther. Didn't make no difference to her, though ; she
was bound to have you, she said, so's you could tell all the
other girls in Martinville that there wa'n't no more chance
for 'em.
Miss CORY (in disgust).
I suppose she really thinks they
will never survive the blow !
{Enter MRS. ALLEN, with large box.)
MRS. ALLEN (gaily).
Were you getting impatient? I
did not mean to be gone so long.
MISS CORY {glaring at he?-). Oh, no, not at all! Aunt
Patience was enlightening me on various important matters.
I feel that I know much more than I did, and to learn is
what one lives for, you know.
MRS. ALLEN. I'm glad she was such good company.
(Taking out picture.)
This is Robert
Miss CORY (looking down at floor suspiciously).
Oh I
did you see it ?
MRS. ALLEN (dropping photograph wildly).
What!
what !
Miss CORY (in great fright).
Did you see a mouse ?

P A R T E D BY PATIENCE

9

MRS. ALLEN {tucking in her skirts and holding up her
feet).
Oh, oh, where did it go? Oh !
AUNT PATIENCE {tucking in her skirts'). I should think
you'd set some traps ; that cat o' yourn wouldn't ketch a
mouse ef it was right under its nose.
MRS. ALLEN {taking up photograph again, but still with
an eye on the mouse'). Perhaps it wasn't a mouse after all.
This is Robert when
Miss CORY {jumpingfrom her chair). I'll chase it out.
There it is ! Look out!
{Runs

out R . , while

MRS. ALLEN and A U N T PATIENCE

huddle tip in their

chairs.)

MRS. ALLEN. I wonder why she doesn't come back!
Maybe she's afraid there is another one. I think I'll go
after her.
{Takes up box of photographs. Exit, R. AUNT PATIENCE
takes up knitting. Miss CORY hurries in, L. with hunted
look.)
AUNT PATIENCE. Seen Hattie?
Miss CORY. NO !

AUNT PATIENCE. She's a-lookin' for you. You gins
seem to think there ain't another airthly thing to do but just
to look at Robert's pictures and talk about his baby doin's.
Seems like you're wonderful interested in him.
Miss CORY {indignantly).
I'm not in the least interested
in him !
AUNT PATIENCE {looking over her glasses). You're awful like my nephew Ben's wife, allers a-goin' off the handle
about something. Ben said 'twas nerves, but 'twa'n't
nothin' but temper. Got so last year Ben had to take her
to one of them sanhedrims.
MISS CORY {laughing hysterically).
Ha, ha, you mean
sanitarium !
AUNT PATIENCE {taking off her spectacles impressively
and looking calmly at Miss CORY). I guess I know what
I'm talkin' about.
(MRS. ALLEN'S voice heard L.
MISS CORY {jumping
Mrs. Allen calling !

" Miss CORY.")

up and running to R . ) .

There is

io

P A R T E D BY PATIENCE

AUNT PATIENCE. She ain't that way! {Exit
Miss
CORY, R . ) Why, the girl ain't got right sense; a-runnin'
out that way when she can hear as plain as anything that
Hattie's a-callin' the other way ! (Rises a?id goes R. as
MRS. ALLEN enters L., carrying the box.) That friend o'
yourn ain't got a mite o' gumption; flew out like a chicken
with its head off the minute she heard you a-callin. I'll
find her.
(Exit, R . )
MRS. ALLEN (sitting down with box on her knee'). How
funny of her to run away ! What made her do that, I wonder ! (Reflects deeply.) Now why shouldn't she want me
to show her Robert's photographs ? {Pause—a light breaks
upon her.) Can that be the reason ! Such a thing never
even occurred to me ! Why, the poor girl; of course I can
understand just how she feels. She could not bring herself
to look over these pictures ; it would remind her too painfully of the old times. Well, well, how stupid of me not to
see it before. Here I have been dragging from her all
about Robert's sayings and doings, and it must have been
perfect torture to her ! (Sighing.)
Poor girl, poor girl, I
do feel awfully sorry for her, but of course we couldn't both
have married Robert. I wonder if he ever had the least
suspicion all these years ! (Whistle heard outside.) Why,
there he is ! (Running out, R., and returning with ROBERT.)
Why, Robert, it's very nice to have you come home so
early. Are you going to stay now?
ROBERT. Yes, but I must run down to the village first.
I won't be gone long. Jones leaves on the 4:30 train and I
must see him before he goes. I just stopped in for a minute
on the way to say how d'ye do to you.
MRS. ALLEN (coaxingly).
Can't you make it two minutes, dear ? I have something immensely important to tell
you.
ROBERT. All right, fire away ! Cook given warning ?
Don't care if she has !
MRS. ALLEN. Don't be so reckless, Robert. You know
you'd be in despair if she had !
ROBERT. Well, has she ? Why do you keep a fellow in
this dreadful suspense ?
MRS. ALLEN. NO, no, this is a discovery I have made,
and I really don't know if I should tell you after all. It

P A R T E D BY PATIENCE

II

seems as though I were abusing some one's confidence in
doing it; and yet of course she did not confide in me.
ROBERT {sitting down and taking out his watch).
Of
course not.
MRS. ALLEN. And we need never show in any way that
we know her secret.
ROBERT (still looking at his watch). Never !
MRS. ALLEN. But I can't help feeling that if I were in
her place I should not want it repeated.
ROBERT (putting up his watch in despair). My dear
Hattie, are you going to tell me or not ?
MRS. ALLEN. Well, really, Robert, I don't believe I
will.
ROBERT. I'm off then, good-bye !
MRS. ALLEN. You're sure you won't feel hurt if I don't ?
I'd give anything if I could, dear, but I can't help putting
myself in the poor girl's place and then you would be the
very last person in the world I should want to know it.
ROBERT. I'd " be the last person," would I ? So I'm
mixed up in this discovery, am I ? (Sitting down again.)
Then I rather guess I have a right to know something about
it.
MRS. ALLEN (hesitatingly).
You—you think I ought to
tell?
ROBERT (with decision). Most certainly ! I think it
your plain duty.
MRS. ALLEN. Well, Robert—you're sure, dear, that it
won't belittle her in your eyes ? Men never value unsought
affection.
ROBERT. Unsought affection ! Good gracious, whose,
Aunt Patience's ?
MRS. ALLEN (solemnly). Robert, Eleanor Cory has
loved you all her life !
ROBERT. Great Scott! Hattie, what under the sun are
you thinking of! Because you happen to have a soft spot
in your heart for me it doesn't follow that every other
woman has J
MRS. ALLEN. I know what I'm talking about ! Oh,
she can't deceive m e ; it shows right through everything
die says about you.
ROBERT. What an idea! She—ha! h a ! h a ! Why,
you
Me ! h a ! h a ! h a ! It's the most ridiculous
thing I ever heard ! Why, Eleanor Cory always felt her-

12

P A R T E D BY PATIENCE

self quite above all of us village youths. She aspired to the
city chaps.
MRS. ALLEN. YOU are just as blind as all men are, Robert, about such things. I can't help knowing that our happiness pains her, and I want you to be just as sweet and
good to her as you can possibly be.
ROBERT. Sweet ! I'd rather be excused, thank you !
But I've got to go. (Rising.)
Eleanor Cory ! Well,
that's the biggest joke I ever heard !
MRS. ALLEN (following him out). I'm sure it's no joke
to her, poor girl.
(Exit ROBERT, R., MRS. ALLEN follows
(Enter ROBERT hurriedly,

R.

Looks around

slowly.)
excitedly.)

ROBERT. Where is Hattie ? I just got as far as the corner of the house when that idea of hers struck me as being
so utterly ridiculous, that I rushed back to tell her she must
forget the entire thing immediately. Ha ! ha ! ha ! These
women are curious ! (Calls.)
Hattie ! Oh, well, it will
«ake too much time to find her. I'd better go along ! I
tell you though, Hattie is pretty sharp about such things,
and women are all so confounded deep; a fellow can't begin to keep up with their vagaries; it takes another woman
to make them out anyway.
(Miss CORY'S voice outside.)
MISS CORY (heard off L . ) . Just walked as far as the
post-office.
ROBERT. Goodness, here she comes ! Why, I feel quite
flustered ! (Settling his necktie.) Awfully fine girl ! (Enter Miss CORY L. , with hat on. ROBERT looks nervously on
mantel.) Ah, hum—have you seen Hattie anywhere?
Miss CORY (laughing).
Are you looking for her on the
mantel ?
ROBERT (laughing uneasily).
Oh, yes—yes, indeed, very
funny.
Miss CORY (looking surprised).
Have you had bad
news ? Has anything happened ?
ROBERT. NO ! oh no ! (Aside.)
Hang it all, what did
Hattie tell me all that stuff for !
(Enter

MRS. ALLEN, R . )

P A R T E D BY PATIENCE

J

3

MRS. ALLEN. Why, Robert, I thought you said you
were in such a hurry ?
ROBERT {confusedly). Yes, I was, but—but I forgot
something. Good-bye, good-bye.

{Exit, L.)
MRS. ALLEN {laughing). The dear, ridiculous fellow!
What in the world did he forget?
Miss CORY. He was looking back of the clock when I
came i n ; perhaps it was a letter.
{Takes hat, and exit, L., as AUNT PATIENCE enters, R.
AUNT PATIENCE looks around carefully, closes both doors
with most mysterious air, finally draws a chair close to
MRS. ALLEN and sits down.)
AUNT PATIENCE {awfully).

Harriet!

MRS. ALLEN {jumping).
Gracious ! Aunt Patience, I
thought for a minute I was a little girl again and stealing
the jam. What is the matter ?
AUNT PATIENCE. Harriet, I feel as if I'd got to warn
you !
MRS. ALLEN. Of what?
{Looking around suspiciously.)
AUNT PATIENCE. Well, it does seems's if you might see
what's right under your nose, child !
MRS. ALLEN. But what is it ? I can't imagine what
you're talking about!
AUNT PATIENCE {sighing). I guess I've got a tenderer
conscience than what other people hez. When I see a duty
a-starin' me in the face, I ain't like some folks that can
sneak around the other way and make believe they ain't
seen i t ; there ain't no peace for me till I up and speak my
mind.
MRS. ALLEN. Come, now, Aunt Patience, out with it
and give that mind of yours a rest.
AUNT PATIENCE. I suppose you'd say I was crazy if 1
told you that Cory girl was in love with Robert ?
MRS. ALLEN {smiling).
Why, no, I shouldn't. It
wouldn't surprise me a bit; but you know she is engaged to
be married. The gentleman has been devoted to her for
years. Perhaps she did have hopes of Robert at one time?
poor thing !

14

P A R T E D BY PATIENCE

AUNT PATIENCE. And you don't care if another woman
makes love to your husband in your own home ?
MRS. ALLEN. How can she make love to him, I should
like to know, if he won't let her ? (AUNT PATIENCE looks
at MRS. ALLEN, then down at her work, purses up her
mouth and nods her head knowingly.
MRS. ALLEN stares
at AUNT PATIENCE a moment, then sits straight up in her
chair excitedly.)
See here, Aunt Patience, what do you
mean by all that ? You know that Robert never cared a
snap of his finger for her !
AUNT PATIENCE. I guess I know more'n I'm a-goin' to
say.
MRS. ALLEN. Did he want her to come, I'd like to
know? Wasn't I the one who insisted on having her?
Tell me that!
A U N T PATIENCE {triumphantly).

And why was it he

was so sot on nothavin' her? Looks pretty queer when a
man takes so much trouble to keep an old friend from
meetin' his wife !
(MRS. ALLEN jumps up indignantly, then drops back in her
chair.}
MRS. ALLEN {weakly).
How—how dare you say such
things !
AUNT PATIENCE {righteously).
I ain't one of the kind
that's allers tryin' to make trouble and no one can't say it of
me, but it ain't in reason to set still and see such things
a-goin' and not say somethin' agin it.
MRS. ALLEN {fiercely).
You're a horrid, wicked, disgraceful old thing, and I hate you, there !
AUNT PATIENCE (virtuously).
I knew jest how you'd
act, and I'm sure you can't say I wanted to tell you. I
heard 'em a while ago talkin' in here. What were they
a-talkin' about ?
MRS. ALLEN. And when I came in Robert looked so
confused. Oh ! oh ! oh ! and she said he was looking for
a letter on the mantel. Where is it, where is it ! ( Getting
up and wildly tossing around sofa pillows and pushing
chairs. Suddenly calming herself and looking proudly at
Aunt Patience.)
Oh, I forgot, it was a letter I wanted
him to post.
{Walks out L., with head held high. AUNT PATIENCE looks
after her, smiling sourly.,)

P A R T E D BY P A T I E N C E

*5

AUNT PATIENCE. I wonder, now, if she thinks I believe
that? {Door bells rings.*) There's the door bell a-ringin'
like all possessed. Goodness me, the way some folks do
ring a bell, you'd think the hull creation was expected to go
chasm' after 'em ! Well, Robert's had that bell fixed at
last; I should think it was about time! H e can't say I
didn't remind him. {Sighing.') Seems's if life was jest one
struggle to make folks do what they had orter, and don't.
{Bell again.) Sakes alive, didn't that girl go to the door?
{Resignedly.)
She's enough to worry any one into the
grave ! I suppose that's the man Robert's sent up
about paperin' the house. H e lets it go all through the
summer, and then when a spell of cooler weather comes and
we'll all get our deaths with the windows and doors open,
he wants to have it done. Some men's jest like that, ain't
no man agin* of 'em !

{Enter

R . , NORMAND BELL, who is

near-sighted and wears glasses.)
NORMAND.

How de do !

Ah ! Good-afternoon.

AUNT PATIENCE. We've been rather expectin' you.
Set down, won't you ?
NORMAND. Thank you ! {Seating himself.)
AUNT PATIENCE {sadly looking at his shoes). I guess
you found the walkin' awful poor, didn't you? And
o' course you never thought about wipin' your feet.
NORMAND {looking at shoes). Oh, I really don't remember, but I think I did.
AUNT PATIENCE.

Tain't likely!

(NORMAND looks un-

comfortable and stares at ceiling. AUNT PATIENCE observes his glance.) Needs it bad, don't i t ?
NORMAND. I beg your pardon !
AUNT PATIENCE {louder). Needs paperin', don't it?
NORMAND {surprised).
Why, really, I hadn't noticed.
AUNT PATIENCE. NOW what color do you think would
go good ?
NORMAND {looking as though he thought her crazy).
Color !
AUNT PATIENCE.

Yes, I said color !

NORMAND {humoring her). Well, I don't know that I
have any preference. Red, I believe, is the fashionable
tint now.
AUNT PATIENCE {in surprise).
R e d ! starin' folks in
the face all the endurin' time ?
NORMAND {hastily).
Why, perhaps I may be mistaken.

16

P A R T E D BY PATIENCE

I'm color blind, you see, and it may be green instead of
red.
AUNT PATIENCE. Color blind ! Then how on airth do
you keep your job, I'd like to know ?
NORMAND {smilingly indulgently).
Neither eyes nor
ears have anything to do with keeping my job.
AUNT PATIENCE. Ears trouble you too, hey? Thought
you were rather deef ! {Loudly.) Does any one know you're
here?
NORMAND. I gave my card to the maid.
AUNT PATIENCE. Well, as like's not she's gone down to
the kitchen with it, and chucked it in the fire. I'd better
tell Hattie you've come, 'cause she wants the paperin' done
right away.
{Rising.)
NORMAND. Excuse me, but I don't understand. I have
nothing to do with papering. I have called to see Miss
Cory.
AUNT PATIENCE. For the landsakes ! Well, it seems to
me you'd have saved yourself a good deal of trouble if
you'd a-said so at the start. I don't see how you expected
me to know from the outside of you, what you wanted. So
you're the man that's been danglin' after Miss Cory so long
Seems to me they said it was five years. Good gracious,
there ain't no accountin' for tastes !
NORMAND {coldly). I have known Miss Cory that long,
I believe.
AUNT PATIENCE. I ain't one of the kind as is allers
makin' trouble between folks; nobody can't say as I ain't
allers a-tryin' to pour oil on the burnin' waters, but I do
feel's if it was my duty to tell you, young man, that you
might's well let that girl alone. Any girl that'll keep a man
a-danglin' after her that long must have another man in her
head, and when it's a married one, like this one has, why
she'll keep you waitin' for the next twenty years.
NORMAND {starting up as if stung). Madam, I don't
understand you !
AUNT PATIENCE {in aggrieved tone). Well, my conscience is clear, anyway ! It can't up and tell me that I ain't
done my duty. Some folks don't do their duty, 'cause
'tain't pleasant for other folks to hear what they're got to
say, but there never was no shirk about me, and I tell you
you're losin' your time a'waitin' for that young woman.
NORMAND {rising).
I really cannot tell whether you are

P A R T E D BY P A T I E N C E

responsible for what you say or not.
walk.

*7

I think I will take a

{Exit.)
AUNT PATIENCE. I ain't one of the kind that's allers
lookin' for evil, but that man hain't got a real honest look
to him. There's something mighty suspicious about him,
and I'd better tell Miss Cory how curious he did act.
[Exit, R . )
{Enter ROBERT,, L., in great

excitement.}

ROBERT. This house seems to be hoo-dooed 1 I come home
early expecting to spend a charming afternoon with my
wife, everything is lovely, wife glad to see me, all serene as
a summer day; I go down to the village for a few minutes,
come back, and the whole atmosphere is changed ; wife
shut up in her room with the door locked ; won't let me in,
^ays, " go away, go away " ; company shut up in her room,
fhe girl tells me. Have they had a quarrel, I wonder?
No! for Hattie would want to tell me about it, and
instead she tells me to " go away." The inference is
that she has had a quarrel with me ! She certainly did
not have one half an hour ago.
(Walking up and
down.)
I wonder if Nellie Cory has been raking up
something I did when I was a boy, which hasn't suited
Hattie. Great Scott, that opens up a wide field for speculation 1 I can't remember anything very bad. Perhaps it
was about some girl ! I know I told Hattie I had never
been in love with any one till I met her, but now that I
think of it, there was a girl visiting at the Tuckers' that I
used to be sweet on. For the life of me I can't remember
her name 1 Funny how those things will leave a man.
And I can't tell whether I ever proposed to that girl or not.
I don't think I did, for if she had refused me, it is likely I
should have remembered it, and if she hadn't, why we
would have been married ! It is something about that girl,
I'll bet, and I'd give a good deal to know what ! I'll just
ask Miss Cory to, come down and tell me what she said.
I'll send a note up to her. {Feels in pockets.)
I'll write it
in the library.
{Exit,

R.)

i8

P A R T E D BY PATIENCE

{Enter AUNT PATIENCE and Miss CORY, L . )

MISS CORY. And you say he went off to take a walk !
Did he say when he would be back ?
AUNT PATIENCE. NO he didn't, but he looked so peaked
that I guess he won't get far.
Miss CORY. Why, did he look sick ?
AUNT PATIENCE.

I don't see how any one with all his

afflictions could help looking sick.
Miss CORY. Afflictions ! What afflictions ?
AUNT PATIENCE. Well, most people would think his
eyes were enough of an affliction without anything else.
Miss CORY. It's only near-sightedness !
AUNT PATIENCE. Near-sightedness ! Plumb blind he is.
Can't see the least mite.
Miss CORY {sinking into a chair).
What!
AUNT PATIENCE. And he told me himself his hearin*
wa'n't no manner of good to him. Yes, and he got that pale
and ghastly lookin' afore he started, I thought he'd faint.
Miss CORY {covering her face with her hands).
What
can have happened ! Oh Normand, you poor dear fellow !
{Looking up wildly.)
It must have been an accident on the
railroad! Did you see any blood? Was he cut anywhere? Oh ! oh ! I must send for a doctor. ( Wringing
her hands.) But where is he? {Walking up and down.)
Perhaps he is lying somewhere dying!
AUNT PATIENCE. I didn't see no blood, and I'm sure
there wa'n't nothin' the matter with his legs, the way he flew
down the street, but I guess he ain't long for this world
from the looks of him.
Miss CORY. Oh, this is dreadful! I must go and find
him.
{Exit

Miss CORY, L., followed

by AUNT PATIENCE.)

{Enter ROBERT, R . )

ROBERT. Well, I've asked her to come down and I hope
she won't keep me waiting. {Enter MRS. ALLEN, L., with
hair disheveled and eyes red, holding his note at arm's
length.) Hello, Hattie! What's the matter, don't you
feel well?
MRS. ALLEN (walking forward
with the note outstretched).
Is this yours?

P A R T E D BY PATIENCE

19

ROBERT {laughing uncomfortably).
Why, yes. How
did you get it ?
MRS. ALLEN {in a dreary tone). Then it was not intended for me ?
ROBERT. Can't you read the name on it ?
{Takingit.)
« Miss C o r y ! "
MRS. ALLEN. And you dare acknowledge it to my
face ?
ROBERT. Well, why shouldn't I ? Come now, Hattie,
drop that tragedy queen business and tell me what is the
matter with you !
MRS. ALLEN. And you stand there, Robert Allen, without one spark of shame for your conduct !
ROBERT. My conduct! I don't see anything to find
fault with in my conduct. Are you making all this fuss because I told Eleanor Cory I wanted to see her ?
MRS. ALLEN. DO you think it a small thing that a husband should write secret messages to a woman, asking
for interviews, when he knows his wife will be out of the
way ?
ROBERT. Why Hattie, you are making a regular mountain out of a mole-hill, child ! It is perfectly ridiculous !
{Going toward her.)
MRS. ALLEN {waving him off). No, no, I have been
blind long enough. Fool that I was, not to see when you
were so anxious to have her visit us, that there was some
reason for it.
ROBERT {indignantly}.
Hattie, you are crazy ! I anxious to have her ! You know very well I begged you to let
her alone. I never cared for any of the family ; they always
thought they owned the earth.
MRS. ALLEN.

Yes, you did beg me not to invite her,

and if I had not been an idiot I would have suspected then
there had been something between you.
ROBERT. Why, you just said I was anxious to have
her!
MRS. ALLEN. Robert, you think you can throw dust
in my eyes, but you cannot. Everything is over between us !
{Enter Miss CORY and NORMAND, R . )

MISS CORY {haughtily).
be intruding.

I beg your pardon, we seem to

20

P A R T E D BY PATIENCE

MRS. ALLEN (majestically).
Not at all, I assure you.
You are in complete possession, I leave the house"immediately !
NORMAND. Not before this lady leaves it, madam 1 For
you, sir, I have only contempt that you would allow a guest
to be insulted in your house.
MRS. ALLEN {ironically).
She insulted indeed !
ROBERT {waving his awns frantically).
Will you women
tell me what this is all about? I swear you have all gone
mad !
MISS CORY ")
Your Aunt Patience seems —
NORMAND
> (together). A member of your family has —
MRS. ALLEN )
Aunt Patience can tell you —
ROBERT (wildly).
One at a time ! What's that about
Aunt Patience ! (To M R S . ALLEN.) Isn't your Aunt
Patience at the bottom of all this foolishness, Hattie?
MRS. ALLEN (tearfully*). Why, I'm sure I should never
have thought of such a dreadful thing if—if she hadn't insisted that—•—
ROBERT (interrupting).
I thought so ! Confound her !
Miss Cory, I promise you she shall leave this very day, bag
and baggage. I'll show that woman who is to rule in this
house !
NORMAND (shaking his hand).
Spoken like a man, Mr.
Allen. I believe you are right. She has set us all by the
ears. But before she goes I want five minutes' conversation
with her myself. I mean to put a stop to any future mischief making she may be up t o ; it is a duty I owe society.
( A U N T PATIENCE'S voice outside, L.)

AUNT PATIENCE. I ain't one of the kind that's allers a
makin' trouble, and there ain't no one hates jarrin' and
fighting more'n I d o — —
(At her first word the four start and look at one another
wildly, each lady drawi?ig near her partner for protection; then all as if panic-stricken hurry out, R., while
AUNT PATIENCE appears in door at L . )

CURTAIN

Unusually Good Eetertainments
Read O n e or More of T h e s e Before Deciding o n
Your Next P r o g r a m
G R A D U A T I O N B A Y A T W O O D H I L L SCHOOL.
An Entertainment in Two Acts, by WARD MACAULEY,

For six

males and four females, with several minor parts. Time of
playing, two hours. Modern costumes. Simple interior scenes;
may be presented in a hall without scenery. The unusual combination of a real "entertainment," including music, recitations,
etc., with an interesting love story. The graduation exercises,
include short speeches, recitations, songs, funny interruptions/
and a comical speech by a country school trustee. Price, 15
cents.
E X A M I N A T I O N D A Y A T W O O D H I L L SCHOOL.
An Entertainment in One Act, by WARD MACAULEY. Eight male
and six female characters, with minor parts. Plays one hour.
Scene, an easy interior, or may be given without scenery. Costumes, modern. Miss Marks, the teacher, refuses to marry a
trustee, who threatens to discharge her. The examination includes recitations and songs, and brings out many funny answers
to questions. At the close Robert Coleman, an old lover, claims
the teacher. Very easy and very effective. Price, 15 cents.
B A C K TO T H E C O U N T R Y S T O K E . A Rural Entertainment in Three Acts, by WARD MACAULEY. For four male
and five female characters, with some supers. Time, two hours.
Two scenes, both easy interiors. Can be played effectively without scenery. Costumes, modern. All the principal parts are
sure hits. Quigley Higginbotham, known as "Quig," a clerk in
a country store, aspires to be a great author or singer and
decides to try his fortunes in New York. The last scene is in
Quig's home. He returns a failure but is offered a partnership
in the country store. He pops the question in the midst of a
surprise party given in his honor. Easy to do and very funny.
Price, 15 cents.
• %
T H E D I S T R I C T C O N V E N T I O N . A Farcical Sketch
in One Act, by FRANK DUMONT.

For eleven males and one

female, or twelve males. Any number of other parts or supernumeraries may be added. Plays forty-five minutes. No special
'scenery is required, and the costumes and properties are all
easy. The play shows an uproarious political nominating convention. The climax comes when a woman's rights champion, captures the convention. There is a great chance to burlesque modern politics and to work in local gags.
Every
part will make a hit. Price, 15 cents.
S I SLOCUM'S C O U N T R Y S T O R E . An Entertainment
in One Act, by FRANK DUMONT. Eleven male and five female
characters with supernumeraries. Several parts may be doubled.
Plays one hour. Interior scene, or may be played without set
scenery. Costumes, modern. The rehearsal for an entertainment in the village church gives plenty of opportunity for
specialty work. A very jolly entertainment of the sort adapted
to almost any place or occasion. Price, 15 cents.

THE PENH PUBLISHING COMPANY
PHILADELPHIA

Unusually Good Entertainments
Read O n e or More of T h e s e Before D e c i d i n g o n
Y o u r N e x t Program
A S U R P R I S E P A R T Y A T B R I N E X E Y ' S . An Entertainment in One Scene, by WARD MACAULEY. Seven male and
seven female characters. Interior scene, or may be given without scenery. Costumes, modern. Time, one hour. By the
author of the popular successes, "Graduation Day at Wood Hill
School," "Back to the Country Store," etc. The villagers have
planned a birthday surprise party for Mary Brinkley, recently
graduated from college. They all join in jolly games, songs,
conundrums, etc., and Mary becomes engaged, which surprises
the surprisers. The entertainment is a sure success. Price, 15 cents*
J O N E S V S . J I N K S . A Mock Trial in One Act, by
EDWARD MUMFORD. Fifteen male and six female characters, with
supernumeraries if desired. May be played all male. Many of the
parts (members of the jury, etc.) are small. Scene, a simple
interior; may be played without scenery. Costumes, modern.
Time of playing, one hour. This mock trial has many novel
features, unusual characters and quick action. Nearly every
character has a funny entrance and laughable lines. There are
•many rich parts, and fast fun throughout. Price, 15 cents.
T H E S I G H T - S E E I N G CAR. A Comedy Sketch in One
Act, by ERNEST M. GOULD. For seven males, two females, or
may be all male. Parts may be doubled, with quick changes, so
that four persons may play the sketch. Time, forty-five minutes.
Simple street scene. Costumes, modern. The superintendent
of a sight-seeing automobile engages two men to run the
machine. A Jew, a farmer, a fat lady and other humorous
characters give them all kinds of trouble. This is a regular gatling-gun stream of rollicking repartee. Price, 15 cents.
T H E C A S E O P S M Y T H E V S . S M I T H . An Original
Mock Trial in One Act, by FRANK DUMONT. Eighteen males
and two females, or may be all male. Plays about one hour.
Scene, a county courtroom; requires no scenery; may be played
in an ordinary hall. Costumes, modern. This entertainment is
nearly perfect of its kind, and a sure success. It can be easily
produced in any place or on any occasion, and provides almost
any number of good parts. Price, 15 cents.
T H E OLD M A I D S ' A S S O C I A T I O N . A Farcical Entertainment in One Act, by LOUISE LATHAM WILSON.

For thirteen

females and one male. The male part may be played by a
female, and the number of characters increased to twenty or
more. Time, forty minutes. The play requires neither scenery
nor properties, and very little in the way of costumes. Can
easily be prepared in one or two rehearsals. Price, 25 cents.
1
B A R G A I N D A Y A T BLOOMSTEIN'S. A Farcical
Entertainment in One Act, by EDWARD MUMFORD. For five males
and ten females, with supers. Interior scene. Costumes, modern. Time, thirty minutes. The characters and the situations
which arise from their endeavors to buy and sell make rapid-fire
ifun from start to finish. Price, 15 cents.

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY
PHILADELPHIA

Successful Plays for All Girls
In Selecting Your Next Play D o N o t Overlook T h i s List
* YOUNG DOCTOR D E V I N E . A Farce in Two Acts,
by MRS. E. J. H. GOODFELLOW. One of the most popular
plays for girls. • For nine female characters.
Time in
playing, thirty minutes. Scenery, ordinary interior.
Modern costumes. Girls in a boarding-school, learning that a
young doctor is coming to vaccinate all the pupils, eagerly consult each other as to the manner of fascinating the physician.
When the doctor appears upon the scene the pupils discover that
the physician is a female practitioner. Price, 15 cents.
S I S T E R M A S O N S . A Burlesque in One Act, by FRANK
DUMONT. For eleven females. Time, thirty minutes. Costumes,
fantastic gowns, or dominoes. Scene, interior. A grand expose
of Masonry. Some women profess to learn the secrets of a
Masonic lodge by hearing their husbands talk in their sleep,
and they institute a similar organization. Price, 15 cents.
A COMMANDING P O S I T I O N .
A Farcical Entertainment, by AMELIA SANFORD.
For seven female characters and ten or more other ladies and children. Time, one
hour. Costumes, modern. Scenes, easy interiors and one street
scene. Marian Young gets tired living with her aunt, Miss
Skinflint. She decides to "attain a commanding position."
Marian tries hospital nursing, college settlement work and
school teaching, but decides to go back to housework. Price, 15
cents.
H O W A WOMAN KEEPS A SECRET.
in One Act, by FRANK DUMONT.

A Comedy

For ten female characters.

Time, half an hour. Scene, an easy interior. Costumes, modern.
Mabel Sweetly has just become engaged to Harold, but it's "the
deepest kind of a secret." Before announcing it they must win
the approval of Harold's uncle, now in Europe, or lose a possible
ten thousand a year. At a tea Mabel meets her dearest friend.
Maude sees Mabel has a secret, she coaxes and Mabel tells her.
But Maude lets out the secret in a few minutes to another
friend and so the secret travels. Price, 15 cents.
THE OXFORD AFFAIR.

A Comedy in Three Acts,

by JOSEPHINE H. COBB and JENNIE E. PAINE.

For eight female

characters. Plays one hour and three-quarters. Scenes, interiors at a seaside hotel. Costumes, modern. The action of the
play is located at a summer resort. Alice Graham, in order to
chaperon herself, poses as a widow, and Miss Oxford first claims
her as a sister-in-law, then denounces her. The onerous duties
of Miss Oxford, who attempts to serve as chaperon to Miss
Howe and Miss Ashton in the face of many obstacles, furnish
an evening of rare enjoyment. Price 15 cents.

THE PENN PUBLISHING COMPANY
PHILADELPHIA

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Elocution and Oratory, which during many years has developed this power in hundreds of men and women.
A catalogue giving full information as to how any of these
accomplishments may be attained will be sent free on request.

THE NATIONAL SCHOOL OF
ELOCUTION AND ORATORY
Parkway Building

Philadelphia