you wish me dead-I believe you wish I were a ghost; oh MR. S. I could hardly wish that; I do not believe in ghosts. MRS. S. And you don't believe in me,-you have just said so, Arethusa and Timothy heard you. I also know that not one of us by any possibility could believe in a ghost, so you are the more preposterous in taking it all so seriously. Do you believe in ghosts, Timothy? MR. J. (laughing.) A needless question. MRS. S. And I can answer for Arethusa; it is not in our blood. As for Josiah MR. S. You can answer for me, also. I want all this silliness to end; here we are, a quartette of pleasant people, becoming thoroughly ridiculous over nothing. If I should allow myself to descend to your level MRS. S. MR. J. MISS S. Descend The Scoffer's level! MR. S. If I should allow myself to treat the matter lightly, then there would be no end to the hilarity I should excite; I should say to his ghostship or her ghostship, should he or she put in an appearance, that we had no time for such antics, and-in fact, I should say all that you would say. MRS. S I should say nothing-I should see nothing; consequently you believe in them more than I do. MR. J. I just said he acted as though he had made one. MR. S. (menacingly.) Timothy Jester, I would have you to know that I no more believe in a ghost than you do. If I should at this moment see a so-called shadowy presence in this room, I should, as the boys say, "go for it," and unearth a burglar or a sneak-thief. If at this moment there should come a sharp sepulchral knock Sharp knock on door. MRS. S. (starting to her feet.) What's that? MISS S. (bundling up her work and rising.) It sounded some thing like a knock,-a sepulchral knock. Mr. Skeptic and Mr. Jester look at each other. MRS. S. Did we all hear it? [No reply. MR. S. It was only some one at the door. MRS. S. Then open the door, Josiah. MR. S. Jennie, reserve your orders for Matilda, the maid. MISS S. But I actually did hear something. Timothy, if Josiah is afraid to open the door MR. S. Arethusa, do you call me a coward? MISS S. Timothy, show yourself a man and open the door. MR. J. It's not my place; this is Josiah's house, not mine. MISS S. It is not my house either. Jennie, it is part your house; open the door-Josiah's afraid. MR. S. Don't say that again, Arethusa! Jennie, your sister desires you to open the door. She despises and maligns me, but I do not deny you the right to open the door. As for me, I shall have nothing to do with the door; it may remain shut till doomsday, for all I care. Knock on the door again. MISS S. I think it sounded like chains this time. Mrs. Skeptic and Miss Scoffer run to side, front of stage; Mr. Skeptic and Mr. Jester follow. MRS. S. It's a judgment on us; and I almost invited it by scouting at the idea of its coming at six o'clock in the evening; and Josiah said-Josiah, don't you dare to go near that door-I shall forcibly hold you back! MR. S. (feebly.) Yes, I will go, Jane; you have all insisted that I should open the door, and you shall take the consequences of my opening it. Don't hold my coat-tails, Jane, for I insist upon opening the door-oh, I thought you had hold of my coat-tails. MRS. S. (grasping the coat-tails.) So I have now. No, Josiah, you shall never obey a summons like that; you are a married man! Miss S. (seizing Mr. Jester's coat-tails.) And Timothy is going to be a married man one of these days. Oh, Timothy, forgive my terrible words of jealousy relating to 10.30; forgive my sarcastic taunts! This may be our last hour—who can tell! I am not positive that I did not hear a groan besides the chains. It is all Josiah's fault! MR. S. How is it my fault, dear Arethusa? I will confess that MR. J. Josiah, she refers to your angry unbelief in anything approaching the supernatural. MRS. S. Josiah, you are responsible for a spirit coming in the spirit of revenge. You never would take my advice; and now see what you have done! We are unquestionably destroyed; to-morrow our hair will be bleached white. Forgive me all my unkind words, Josiah; we were never angry before. (Knock on the door. She and Miss Scoffer cower in a corner, the men near them.) Tell it, Josiah, that you were but using braggadocio—tell it that not only do you believe in it, but that you always did, and-oh, tell it anything; you needn't mind a fib to a ghost. MR. S. (opens his lips and tries to speak, then whispers hoarsely.) Jennie, my voice is gone. MISS S. Oh, poor Josiah, poor Josiah; he is frozen with terror, and no wonder, for he has brought this on us! Timothy, how is your voice? MR. J. Arethusa, my voice is all right; but my legs Knock on the door. They crouch closely together. The door opens, and Matilda, the maid, puts in her white-capped head for a moment, when, seeing them all, she withdraws it and closes the door again. MRS. S. I saw it,- -a hideous, awful face! MR. S. Male or female, should you say? MRS S. It was all that was awful in the face of man or woman. It may have been gory. MISS S. With a gash in the throat! MRS. S. The head completely severed! [Knock. I may MR. S. (tottering.) Something ails my legs too. have been bold in my language a little while ago, but, Jennie, I meant no disrespect Miss S. You were as disrespectful as you possibly could be of ghosts! [Knock. MRS. S. There, Arethusa, you did that; you caused that deathly knock by foolishly saying "ghost." [Knock. MISS S. And you did that. There are legions here; I thought it looked like two when it put its bloody face in the room. Door opens-Matilda appears. MRS. S. There it is again! MR. S. (sinking to the floor.) Unhappy, injured spirit, I abjure thee Speak to it, Timothy! MR. J. Observe the rules of polite society-it is not my guest, but yours! MATILDA. If you please MISS S. That voice! It is a hollow echo,grave-yard chorus! prayers, for -a perfect Timothy, Jennie, Josiah, say your They hide their faces, leaning against each other. MATILDA. My good gracious! Whatever has come over them? Here I have been knocking and knocking, and getting no answer! (In a loud voice.) Missus, Missus, I've come to say that tea is ready, and the muffins won't wait for nobody. ALL (raising their heads and recognizing her). It is Matilda! MATILDA. Who did you think it was? You look as if you had all seen a ghost. Miss Scoffer and Mrs. Skeptic cry out. MRS. S. Don't say the word, Matilda, for we-we-weMR. S. Are ready for tea, and-and MR. S. It's all this confounded paper's fault; I'll horsewhip the editor to-morrow (flies at paper and tears it savagely)! MRS. S. MISS S. } It's all the paper's fault! They fall on the paper and tear it into shreds, Matilda looking on in amazement, as curtain falls. DRAMATIC EXTRACTS -FROM One Hundred Choice Selections, No. 11.* This Supplement will be forwarded to any address, post-paid, on receipt of Ten Cents (or three copies for Twenty-Five Cents), by addressing P. GARRETT & Co., Publishers, 708 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, Pa. COURTSHIP UNDER DIFFICULTIES. CHARACTERS. SNOBBLETON, a practical joker. SCENE.-A fashionable watering-place. Snobbleton discovered. Snobbleton. Yes, there is that fellow Jones, again. I declare, the man is ubiquitous. Wherever I go with my cousin Prudence we stumble across him, or he follows her *"100 Choice Selections No. 11," contains two other short dramatic articles which are not included in these leaflets, viz.: SCENE FROM DOUGLAS, introducing Norval, Glenalvon, and Lord Randolph; and the CLOSET SCENE FROM HAMLET. Among the other attractive readings in No. 11, we would especially mention "Laughin' in Meetin'," by H. B. Stowe; "Gone With a Handsomer Man," by Will Carleton; Max Adeler's "Political Stump Speech," "Lord Dundreary Proposing," "She would be a Mason," "The Drunkard's Dream," ""Execution of Montrose," "Red Jacket," "Charlie Machree,' ," "Rock me to Sleep "" ""Temptations of St. Anthony," "The King's Temple," "The Man with a Cold in his Head," and many others of all shades, variety, and purposes, embracing such authors as Victor Hugo, Bret Harte, Robert Lowell, Peter Pindar, Mrs. Partington, J. G. Holland, J. G. Whittier, Geo. W. Bungay, Thomas Hood, Robert Southey, Mary E. Hewitt, John G. Saxe, Charles Dickens, N. P. Willis, Owen Meredith, and others, besides a host of waifs and gems from unknown sources. The entire book (including the Dramatic Extracts) contains 224 pages. Price, thirty cents. Special Club rates. A liberal reduction for the entire set. |