A. W. Pinero’s Plays

                       Price, 50 Cents Each


    =THE AMAZONS= Farce in Three Acts. Seven males, five
    females. Costumes, modern; scenery, not difficult. Plays a
    full evening.

    =THE CABINET MINISTER= Farce in Four Acts. Ten males,
    nine females. Costumes, modern society; scenery, three
    interiors. Plays a full evening.

    =DANDY DICK= Farce in Three Acts. Seven males, four females.
    Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays two hours
    and a half.

    =THE GAY LORD QUEX= Comedy in Four Acts. Four males, ten
    females. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors and an
    exterior. Plays a full evening.

    =THE HOUSE IN ORDER= Comedy in Four Acts. Nine males, four
    females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays
    a full evening.

    =THE HOBBY HORSE= Comedy in Three Acts. Ten males, five
    females. Costumes, modern; scenery easy. Plays two hours
    and a half.

    =IRIS= Drama in Five Acts. Seven males, seven females.
    Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full
    evening.

    =LADY BOUNTIFUL= Play in Four Acts. Eight males, seven
    females. Costumes, modern; scenery, four interiors, not
    easy. Plays a full evening.

    =LETTY= Drama in Four Acts and an Epilogue. Ten males, five
    females. Costumes, modern; scenery complicated. Plays a
    full evening.

    =THE MAGISTRATE= Farce in Three Acts. Twelve males, four
    females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interior. Plays two
    hours and a half.


                Sent prepaid on receipt of price by
                     Walter H. Baker & Company
            No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts




                        Look Out For Paint

                   A Farce Comedy in Three Acts

                                By
                          CORNELIUS SHEA


                              BOSTON
                       WALTER H. BAKER & CO.
                               1912




                        Look Out For Paint




                            CHARACTERS

  (_As originally produced in Tottenville, N. Y., June 9, 1911_).


  HIRAM RODNEY, _owner of “High Up Farm”_    _Mr. Frank J. Dolan_.
  PERCY HEARTACHE, _an artist, in love
    with Rodney’s daughter Helen_            _Mr. Benjamin B. Cole_.
  HICKORY HOMESPUN, _a bashful farmer, who
    is well to do_                           _Mr. J. J. Malle_.
  TROTWELL ROAMER, _a tramp, who is a
    painter by trade_                        _Mr. Edward Johnson_.
  BILL, _a big, good-natured boy who does
    the chores_                              _Mr. Arthur Parsons_.
  SUSAN RODNEY, _the farmer’s wife_          _Miss Cecilia Stern_.
  HELEN RODNEY, _the farmer’s daughter_      _Miss Lena S. Hoehn_.
  HATTIE RENWICK, _a stenographer from the
    city, past thirty and anxious to wed_    _Miss Marvel Matthes_.
  LUCINDA WHEATCHAFF, _a widow in love with
    Hickory Homespun_                        _Mrs. Willis Larkin_.


       TIME:—The present. LOCALITY:—A farm in the upper part
                        of New York State.

             Time of performance, one hour and a half.


               [Illustration: (Publisher colophon)]


             COPYRIGHT, 1912, BY WALTER H. BAKER & CO.


                             SYNOPSIS

ACT I.—Dining-room at “High Up Farm.” The arrival of the boarder
from the city. The two letters. The farmer decides to have his
sailboat painted, since the summer boarders have begun to come.

ACT II.—Lawn at “High Up Farm.” Heartache is much perplexed. Helen
helps him fix it. The tramp. The plot. Hattie is surprised. “He has
disguised himself to test the depths of my devotion.” The tramp
tries to escape.

ACT III.—Same as Act II. An embarrassing mistake. “Look out for
paint.” Miss Renwick decides that she don’t want a husband. The
widow wins. Bill settles it all.


                             COSTUMES

It will be necessary for Hattie and Helen to change. Hattie is to
be stylishly gowned in summer apparel when she enters in first act.
Helen to fit the occasion, as a farmer’s daughter when at work
about the house, and also “dressed up” to receive visitors. Bill in
ridiculous make-up and big straw hat. Percy in rather dudish style.
Roamer in ragged coat and overalls. Hiram as a farmer at work.
Hickory “dressed up” a little. Lucinda as a widow just discarding
her weeds. Susan with apron, etc.


                            PROPERTIES

Churn, table, chairs, benches, etc., broom, feather duster and
ordinary furnishings for common sitting-room; table is set on lawn
during intermission between second and third acts Sign, “Cow for
Sale.” Two paint cans, with brushes.




                        Look Out for Paint




                               ACT I


    SCENE.—_Sitting-room of the “High Up Farmhouse.”_

   _Enter_ HIRAM RODNEY, _drying hands with big, coarse towel_.

HIRAM. So it’s city boarders we’re going to have, eh? An’ one
is comin’ to-day! Well, I don’t think a whole lot of this pesky
business, but Susan got it in her head to take ’em, so I s’pose
she’s got to have her way about it. Women-folks generally does
have their own way, anyhow. I know Susan does; she always has,
too. But it’s all right. A little cash money from boarders will
come in mighty handy, I calculate. It’s been so dry that it looks
as though the corn crop is going to be a rank failure. An’ the
hay——(_Voices and laughter outside._) Hello! What’s this? Bill
has brought the new boarder over from the depot, I s’pose. (_Goes
to door at_ C.) Yes, sure enough, she’s come. My! but ain’t she
dressed up! Paint an’ powder on her face, too! An’ Bill is luggin’
in her trunk.

    _Enter_ BILL, _carrying trunk, followed by_ HATTIE RENWICK.

BILL. Here we are, Mr. Rodney. I found her all right. Ain’t she
a stunner? I’ll bet that dress an’ hat of hers cost more’n five
dollars, bergosh! Ain’t she——

HIRAM. Shet up, you fool! Don’t you know how to act when we’ve got
company?

HAT. (_graciously_). Oh, don’t mind him. I think Bill is just too
cute for anything. He is so witty in his conversation that I just
enjoyed myself riding over from the depot. (_Laughs lightly and
glances killingly at_ BILL, _who curtsies and then struts around
like a peacock_.) So this is High Up Farm, I suppose?

HIRAM. Yes, miss, that’s just what it is. Be you Miss Hattie
Renwick, the new boarder?

HAT. Yes, that is who I am, sir. I suppose you are Mr. Rodney?

HIRAM. That’s me. I’m the boss of this here place—when Susan ain’t
around, I mean. (_Footsteps at_ L.) Here she comes now. She’ll look
after you all right, miss. Susan knows her business.

            _Enter_ SUSAN RODNEY, _from kitchen at_ L.

HAT. Mrs. Rodney, I presume?

SUSAN (_bowing and smiling_). Yes, that’s who I be. You are the
young lady come here to board, I take it?

HIRAM. That’s who she is, Susan. Jest look after her, will you?
(_To_ BILL.) Take that trunk up-stairs, Bill, an’ hurry up about
it. I’ve got to send you back to the village before you unhitch the
mare. I wanted you to do an errand for me, but you went off without
me knowin’ it. Hurry up now.

BILL. All right. I’ll git this here trunk up-stairs in a jiffy.
(_Tries to lift trunk and falls over it._) Gosh! I missed my hold
that time. (_To_ HAT.) Say, miss, there ain’t no crockery in this,
is there?

HAT. (_laughing_). No crockery, Bill.

BILL. All right, then.

      (HIRAM _helps him and the two exeunt with trunk at_ R.)

HAT. (_looking about room and breathing a sigh of relief_). What
a relief to get out of the crowded, dusty city. I am so glad I am
here.

SUSAN. You ought to be, Miss Renwick. There is nothing like the
dear old country, after all. Shall I show you to your room?

HAT. If you please, Mrs. Rodney.

    _Enter_ HIRAM _and_ BILL, R. _Exeunt_ SUSAN _and_ HAT., R.

HIRAM. Now, Bill, I want you to drive over to the village and tell
Jim Styles to send a man over here to paint ther boat just as soon
as he kin. Since we’re goin’ ter have boarders, we’ve got to have
the boat so they kin use it on the lake. Tell him it’s white paint
for the outside an’ yaller inside. Don’t you forgit, Bill.

BILL. I won’t. But I’ll have to bring in an armful of wood first. I
seen there wasn’t any in ther wood-box when I come in.

HIRAM. Mighty thoughtful of you all at once.

BILL. Say! but ain’t the new boarder a daisy?

                     (_Laughs uproariously._)

HIRAM. Pshaw! You don’t think that city gal would take any notice
of you, do yer?

BILL. I don’t, eh? That’s as much as you know about it. Why, she
told me I was a fine specimen of a healthy young farmer. (_Draws
himself up proudly._) An’ she give me a dig in ther ribs, too.
She’s a reg’lar peach! (_Laughs loudly again._)

HIRAM. You’re a born fool, Bill, an’ you don’t know it. That gal
was jest makin’ fun of yer, that’s all.

  [_Exeunt_ HIRAM _and_ BILL.

    _Enter_ HELEN RODNEY, _with bunch of flowers in her hand_.

HEL. I see the buggy outside, so I suppose our boarder has arrived.
I wonder how she looks? She wrote that she is a stenographer in
New York, and the letter was typewritten, too. By the way it read,
she must be very much of a lady. Well, as there is no one here
now, I’ll take my chance to write a note to Percy. I know mother
won’t object, so I’ll invite him over to take tea with us to-morrow
afternoon. Percy is just too sweet for anything; and he is an
artist, too! I hope the new boarder is not good-looking, so there
will be no danger of her cutting me out. (_Opens drawer in stand
and takes out paper, pen and ink and writes._) There! (_Holds up
note she has written._) That is rather brief, but it will answer
the purpose, I know. Percy will be delighted to come, too. When
mother and father see him and get acquainted with him they won’t
mind if he comes often, I am sure. (_Reads._) “Dear Percy, come
over to-morrow afternoon and take tea with us. Pa and ma will
be pleased to see you. Yours lovingly, H. R.” (_Places paper in
envelope and addresses it._ BILL _is heard whistling outside_.)
Here, Bill, I want you. Hurry up.

    (BILL _enters on a run and stumbles, throwing an armful of
    wood on the floor_.)

BILL (_on his hands and knees_). What do yer want, Helen?

HEL. Get up, stupid. I want you to take this letter to the
post-office some time to-day.

BILL (_taking letter_). All right, Helen. I’ve got to go to ther
village right away, an’ I’ll mail ther letter for yer.

HEL. Well, see that you don’t lose it. Here is ten cents for you.

BILL. Hooray! I’ll buy a mouth-organ now. Then I’ll make some
mew-sick around High Up Farm, see if I don’t. Helen, you never
heard me play a mouth-organ, did yer?

HEL. No; and I don’t wish to hear you, either. Just pick up that
wood and be off with you.

BILL (_gathering up the sticks of wood_). All right, Helen. I
forgot to thank you for this dime.

            (_Puts coin in mouth and then goes off_ L.)

                (_Exit_ HEL., C. _Enter_ HAT., R.)

HAT. Oh! Here is pen, ink and paper. Just what I want. I
wonder if I could get that simple fellow, Bill, to go over to
the post-office? I must let Percy know I am here. Won’t he be
surprised! What a romance, indeed. We have never seen each other,
nor even exchanged photographs, but I am sure he loves me, or
he would never have answered my second letter after reading my
advertisement in a matrimonial paper. When I found High Up Farm was
so near the village he is stopping in I could not make arrangements
to come here quickly enough. How delightful! How romantic! I’ll
just write him a few words to let him know I am here. I will
ask him to come over to-morrow afternoon. Just think of it! How
romantic it will be! I am sure I will know him, for I can imagine
just how he looks from his letters. And he is an artist, too.
Very, very romantic! (_Sits down and writes._) There! I think this
will do. (_Reads._) “Dear Percy: I have just arrived at High Up
Farm and will be pleased to meet you here to-morrow afternoon.
I know how surprised you will be when you read this, and feel
sure that when you see me you will not be sorry you answered my
matrimonial advertisement, which was really inserted more in a
spirit of mischief than anything else. Yours, lovingly, H. R.”
(_To audience._) That ought to land him, if anything will. Since
I have decided to get married, I must go the limit. I must land
this handsome young artist—I know he must be handsome, for artists
always are—and I will surely look my best to-morrow afternoon.
I wonder where that big booby, Bill, is? (BILL _heard whistling
outside_.) Oh! there he is now. (_Walks to_ L.) Come here, Bill; I
want you.

                   _Enter_ BILL, _whip in hand_.

BILL. What do you want, miss?

HAT. When are you going over to the village again?

BILL. Right now. Kin I do anything for yer?

HAT. (_sealing note in envelope_). Yes; take this letter to the
post-office for me. (_Writes address on envelope._)

BILL. All right, Miss Daisy; I’ll do it for yer.

HAT. My name isn’t Daisy.

BILL. Well, you’re a daisy, jest ther same.

HAT. (_laughing_). Do you think so, Bill?

BILL. I don’t think so; I know it, bergosh!

HAT. None of that, Bill. I know you don’t mean a word of what you
say. You are just like the rest of the men.

BILL (_pulling up trousers and strutting about with chest thrown
out_). Rest of ther men, eh? Well, I always thought I was nothin’
but a boy yet. But if you say I’m a man, I must be, Daisy.

HAT. (_handing him letter and piece of money_). Here is a quarter
for you. Take the letter and be sure and mail it. That’s a good boy.

BILL (_starting toward_ L.). Boy, eh? A minute ago I was a man.
Well, that’s jest like ther wimmen-folks. They say one thing an’
mean another.

       (_Laughs loudly and goes off_ L. HAT. _goes off_ C.)

                         _Enter_ SUSAN, R.

SUSAN. Now I suppose I must get dinner ready. The new boarder is
most likely hungry, an’ I want her to be satisfied. Six dollars a
week ain’t to be sneezed at these times.

             (_Starts for_ L., _when_ HEL. _enters_.)

HEL. Mother, I have asked a young man to come over and take tea
with us to-morrow. You don’t object, do you?

SUSAN. Young man? You mean that painter you’ve talked so much about
in the last week or two, I s’pose?

HEL. Not painter, mother. He is an artist.

SUSAN. Well, ain’t a painter an artist? I call him a painter, an’
I don’t think he amounts to much, though I ain’t never set eyes on
him.

HEL. (_taking_ SUSAN’S _face in her hands_). Oh, mother, you will
surely change your opinion when you see him once. He is just too
sweet for anything. He is very wealthy, too, and I happen to know
that he has more than an ordinary fondness for me.

SUSAN (_disengaging herself from_ HEL.). All girls are alike at
your age. Well, let him come, if he wants to. I was thinking of
inviting the widow over to-morrow afternoon, so Miss Renwick would
have company. Most likely she’ll find it rather lonesome here at
first. Hick Homespun told your father he was coming over to look at
the brindle cow which is for sale, to-morrow afternoon, so it will
just come in fine. The widow has set her cap for Hick, an’ I’ve
made up my mind to help her along all I can. Yes. Let the painter
come over, an’ we’ll have a little party.

HEL. And we won’t say anything about it to father, or the boarder,
mother. Let’s make it a surprise party, as far as they are
concerned.

SUSAN. Very well, Helen. I was goin’ to tell your father, but if
you want him surprised it’s all right.

HEL. Where is the new boarder, mother? I haven’t seen her yet.

SUSAN. She is up in her room. She seems to be a very nice girl.

HEL. Is she good-looking?

SUSAN. Very. She reminds me of one of them pictures you see in the
fashion books. (_Starts._) I hear her coming downstairs now. I’ll
introduce you right away.

                         _Enter_ HAT., R.

HAT. Has Bill gone yet, Mrs. Rodney? I have just discovered that
I failed to bring my tooth powder with me, and if there is a drug
store at the village I want him to get me some.

SUSAN. I’ll see if Bill has gone yet, Miss Renwick. (_Goes to door
at_ C., _and looks out_.) There! he is going now. Hey, Bill! Come
back here. You’re wanted. (_Comes back._) Miss Renwick, let me make
you acquainted with my daughter Helen.

    (HEL., _who has been studying the new boarder, advances a
    step and bows_.)

HAT. I am very glad to meet her, I am sure. How do you do, Miss
Rodney? (_They shake hands._)

HEL. I am quite well, I thank you. I hope you will like it here at
High Up Farm.

HAT. I hope so; but it does seem rather slow here at the start. You
see, I am so used to the gay life of the city, with the theatre
parties every night or two, and the receptions and balls. It is so
different in the country. But I will get used to it, I know.

HEL. Miss Renwick, do stenographers have such enjoyment in the
city? They must draw large salaries.

HAT. Oh, they do. But of course they don’t use their own money for
such pleasures. The fellows attend to that part of it—young men
interested in Wall Street, and the like, you know.

HEL. Oh, I see. It must be delightful to live in the city and be a
stenographer.

                 _Enter_ BILL _hurriedly from_ C.

BILL. What do yer want, Missus Rodney? You jest stopped me in time.
If I hadn’t waited to fix ther mare’s traces you wouldn’t have got
me.

HAT. (_smiling graciously_). It is I who want you, Bill.

BILL. Oh, it’s you, eh, Daisy?

HAT. What did I tell you about calling me Daisy?

BILL. Excuse me. I’ll change it an’ call you Peach, then.

HAT. Stop your nonsense, Bill. (_Takes money from purse and hands
it to him._) There! Stop at the drug store and get me a box of
tooth powder. If you can’t get powder, get paste.

BILL. An’ if I can’t git paste I’ll git a bottle of mucilage.

HEL. The idea, Bill! Mucilage! People don’t use such stuff as that
to clean their teeth.

BILL. If they was false it would be good to stick ’em to ther gums.

HAT. (_sharply_). Bill, I want you to understand that my teeth are
all my own.

BILL. Of course, Daisy—I mean Peach. Whose would they be? If
you’ve got false ones most likely you paid for ’em. Whose would
they be? (_Goes to door at_ C., _laughing_.) But all right, Peach.
I’ll git ther tooth powder for yer. I won’t forgit. I’m goin’ to
buy a set of clappers with that quarter you give me afore. Then,
with a new mouth-organ an’ ther clappers, there’ll be a regular
band of music around High Up Farm. [_Exit._

HEL. Mother, that boy is getting to be a regular nuisance. The idea
of him speaking that way to a stranger!

HAT. Oh! I don’t mind him, Miss Rodney. Bill isn’t exactly all
right. I noticed that when he met me at the depot. He means no
offense, I am sure. His comical actions and remarks help take away
the dullness. Bill is all right.

SUSAN. Well, we’ve had him ever since he was about ten years old,
an’ he’s always been pretty faithful. I s’pose he can’t help it if
he’s a little loose in his upper story. Most likely he was born
that way.

HEL. Quite likely, mother.

HAT. (_sitting down_). Miss Helen, are there many good-looking
young farmers around here?

HEL. There are plenty of young men in the neighborhood, Miss
Renwick. But as to their good looks, I suppose you would be better
able to judge than I. You reside in the city, and I presume you see
so many handsome young men that you would not think much of those
you will meet here in the country. As for myself, I don’t care a
great deal for farmers.

SUSAN. Shame on you, Helen! You, a farmer’s daughter, talkin’ like
that.

HEL. I can’t help it, mother; just because I was born on a farm
don’t say that I should be a farmer’s wife.

HAT. Why, I think that would be delightful, provided the husband
could give his wife all she wanted. Plenty of fine dresses, a horse
and carriage, and a nice automobile. Farmers usually are very
wealthy, I have heard.

SUSAN. Well, there ain’t many rich ones around here, Miss Renwick.
About the only one anywhere around here who’s got plenty of money
is Hick Homespun, an’ his father left it to him. Hick never earned
it, though he does know pretty well how to keep it.

HAT. Hick Homespun! What a funny name, Mrs. Rodney.

SUSAN. Yes, it is a sorter old-fashioned name. But Hick is all
right, just the same.

HEL. His given name is Hickory, but every one calls him Hick, for
short.

HAT. Is he married?

HEL. No, he is a bachelor farmer.

SUSAN. But he ain’t likely to remain a bachelor very long. Lucinda
Wheatchaff, the widow, has set her cap for him. She’ll catch him,
too, for Lucinda has very winnin’ ways. She made up her mind to
get Hank Wheatchaff, an’ she jest went ahead an’ got him. But Hank
didn’t live more’n a year, an’ when he died he left the widow a
nice little farm an’ a few thousands in cash. Lucinda will win Hick
all right, though he’s an awful bashful man. She’ll—— (_Knock at
door_ C.) As I live! I believe that’s the widow now. I always know
her knock. (_Calls out._) Come in.

                    _Enter_ LUCINDA WHEATCHAFF.

LUC. Hello, everybody! Isn’t this a lovely day? (_Sees_ HAT.) Oh!
excuse me, Mrs. Rodney. I wasn’t aware that you had company.

SUSAN (_introducing them_). Mrs. Wheatchaff, this is our new
boarder, Miss Renwick, of New York.

LUC. How do you do, Miss Renwick? We country folks are always glad
to meet city folks.

HAT. (_graciously_). It gives me great pleasure to make your
acquaintance, Mrs. Wheatchaff.

        (_They shake hands, the widow very demonstrative._)

HEL. Lucinda, I was just telling Miss Renwick about Hick. She
wanted to know if there were any nice young men around here.

LUC. Oh, she wanted to know that, eh? (_Sizes up_ HAT. _critically,
and then gives a sniff_.) Well, I hardly think Hick Homespun would
suit her. Hick has got an awful objection to paint and powder, too.
He wouldn’t be apt to take to Miss Renwick.

HAT. (_with sweet sarcasm_). Indeed! Mrs. Wheatchaff, you are very
blunt in your way of speaking, I see. But if the gentleman referred
to objects to paint and powder, how do you ever expect to win him?

LUC. (_holding up her hands in surprise_). Me? As if I wanted
another man! I’ve had one, and I am sure that is enough. (_Picks
up her parasol and walks about indignantly._) But say! (_Pauses
before_ HAT. _and shakes parasol at her_.) If you think you can get
Hick Homespun to take any notice of you, go ahead. I’m sure it is
nothing to me. But I don’t believe——

  (_Loud noise outside, and_ HIRAM _enters in great excitement_.)

HIRAM. Susan, get the gun—quick! There’s a big chicken-hawk after
the old dominick hen an’ her chickens. Hurry, Susan!

    (_Exit_ SUSAN _hurriedly at_ R. HEL. _grabs a feather
    duster_, HAT. _seizes broom which_ SUSAN _has left in a
    corner of the room, and_ LUC. _waves her parasol_. SUSAN
    _enters_ R. _with gun. Then_ HIRAM _grabs the gun and all
    rush out excitedly. Report of gun is heard._)


                           QUICK CURTAIN




                              ACT II


    SCENE.—_Lawn of the “High Up Farmhouse.” Day later. A few
    chairs and benches scattered about. Churn near side of
    house. Sign: “Cow for sale” on tree._

                    _Enter_ PERCY HEARTACHE, L.

PERCY (_perplexed_). Well, this is a great state of affairs. I don’t
know how I am to get out of the mess I am in. Who would ever have
dreamed of such a thing as that girl I corresponded with through the
foolish matrimonial advertisement would be here? Why, I never saw
her, and I only answered her letters for fun. The idea of her going
so far as to come here to board! It is ridiculous. But to make
matters worse (_shaking his head sadly_) Helen sends me an invitation
to come over this afternoon and get acquainted with her parents. The
two letters arrived at the same time, and both bear the same
initials. (_Takes letters from pocket and again shakes his head._)
Well (_bracing up_), I made up my mind to come here and make a clean
breast of it to Helen, and I came an hour earlier, so I might learn
my fate as soon as possible. I wish I could see her without going to
the house. Ah! here she comes now, as I live!

   _Enter_ HEL., R. _Hurries to the churn and starts churning._

HEL. Oh, dear! I wish the butter would come. (_Churns vigorously._)
I won’t have time to dress before Percy gets here. The dear fellow.
I know he will surely come.

    (PERCY _brightens up and steps softly toward her_. HEL. _has
    her back to him and has not seen him_.)

PERCY. Ahem!

HEL. (_stops churning and turns_). Oh! is it you, Mr. Heartache?

PERCY. Yes, Miss Rodney. I came over a little early, because I have
something to say to you. It is of a rather serious nature, and has
been worrying me ever since I went to the post-office last night.
(_Walks to_ L.)

HEL. (_aside_). Gracious! It can’t be that he is going to propose.
(_Walks toward_ PERCY.) What is it, Mr. Heartache? Perhaps I might
be able to advise you.

PERCY (_brightening up_). I am sure you can, Helen—I mean Miss
Rodney. I surely am in a bad fix. But sit down here and I’ll tell
you all about it.

                  (_They sit upon bench near_ C.)

HEL. Go on and tell me. I am sure your troubles cannot be very
great.

PERCY. Wait until you have heard. Helen—excuse me for calling you
Helen——

HEL. Certainly. To be even with you, I shall call you Percy.

PERCY. I like that. But let me tell my story. Perhaps after you
have heard it you won’t want to ever see me again.

HEL. Is it so serious as all that?

PERCY. It surely is. Helen, a month or so ago I was foolish enough
to answer an advertisement in a matrimonial paper. I did it just
for the fun of the thing, you know.

HEL. I did the same thing once. A bachelor, whose chief drawing
points were that he was bald-headed and had a fortune, advertised
that he wished to correspond with a charming country girl who was
matrimonially inclined, and I wrote to him.

PERCY. Ah! is that so?

HEL. Yes; but there was no harm in it, was there?

PERCY. Certainly not. How many letters did you write to him?

HEL. Only one. I did not answer the one I received in reply, for it
seemed as though he meant business, and what did I want of an old
bald-headed man, even if he was rich?

PERCY. Of course you didn’t want him. But to be real serious,
Helen. The fix I am in at present is all through answering an
advertisement in a matrimonial paper. I wrote to the young lady
twice, and it seems that she took it altogether too seriously. The
fact is, Helen, that she is here, and she has invited me to call at
your father’s house this afternoon.

HEL. (_rising excitedly_). What do you mean?

PERCY. Just what I say. Haven’t you a young lady stopping here?

HEL. Why—er—yes. But——

PERCY. Isn’t her name Hattie Renwick?

HEL. (_completely amazed_). Yes, that is her name.

PERCY. Read this note and you will understand it all. (_Hands her_
HATTIE’S _note_.) I hope you will forgive me, Helen. I will never
do such a foolish thing again as long as I live.

HEL. (_reading note aloud_). Well, I declare! If this isn’t a
remarkable coincidence. Why, she must have sent this to the
post-office with Bill when I sent mine yesterday.

PERCY. I received the two invitations at the same time. Imagine my
surprise, and my feelings, too, when I read them.

HEL. Well, I am not a bit jealous of her, Percy. I consider this a
great joke, indeed I do.

PERCY. Oh, do you? You are not angry, then?

HEL. Angry? No. But say, Percy, if you could only get some one to
come here and represent himself to be Percy Heartache, what a joke
it would be! Miss Renwick is an old maid, and the way she paints
her face is disgusting. Imagine her wanting to marry a handsome
young artist! Why, she is artist enough herself.

     (_Laughs lightly, and_ PERCY, _much relieved, joins in_.)

PERCY. I wish I knew how to get out of this. Your suggestion is
a good one, but who could I get to represent himself to be me? I
suppose I might go back to the village and find some one, though.

HEL. (_eagerly_). Do it, Percy. You can find somebody who would do
it just for the fun of it. I will tell mother about it. Here she
comes now.

                         _Enter_ SUSAN, R.

SUSAN. Why, Helen, have you given up the churning? Oh! you have a
visitor, I see. (_Smiles and approaches._)

HEL. Yes, mother, let me introduce you to Mr. Heartache. He is the
young man I spoke to you about—the artist, you know.

SUSAN. So he is the painter, eh? How do you do, Mr. Heartache?

PERCY. Quite well, thank you. (_Bows, and then_ SUSAN _extends
hand_. PERCY _accepts it and they shake cordially_.) You have a
beautiful place here, Mrs. Rodney. High Up Farm is well named.
The land is very high and level here and the pure air is simply
delightful. The scenery is grand, too, and I mean to make some
sketches of it, if I receive permission to do so.

SUSAN. You mean to paint pictures of the trees and such.

PERCY. Yes, that is it.

HEL. Mother, what do you think Hattie Renwick came to board with us
for?

SUSAN (_surprised_). Why, I don’t know, unless it was to get away
from the city for a while and enjoy herself in the fresh country
air. What do you mean, Helen?

HEL. Well, I’ll tell you, mother. She came here so she could
get acquainted with Mr. Heartache. It seems that he answered a
matrimonial advertisement she inserted in some paper, and when she
answered him he wrote again, giving his address at the village. She
discovered that our farm was right near the village, so she came
here. Percy—I mean Mr. Heartache—never saw Miss Renwick, and he
cares nothing for her, whatever. She had the audacity to——

SUSAN. Why, Helen, what do you mean?

HEL. Listen, mother. Let me finish. She had the audacity to send
Mr. Heartache a note, inviting him here to-day. I invited him, too,
as you are aware. Now, he does not want to let the brazen old maid
know who he is, and we were just talking and trying to think of
some way to play a joke on her.

SUSAN. Well, if that is why she came to High Up Farm I think she
ought to have a joke played on her. I have a notion to go right now
and tell her what I think of her.

HEL. Don’t do it, mother. She is getting along in years, and she no
doubt wants to get a husband so badly that she can be excused. What
we want you to do is to help us in this. It will only be a little
harmless fun, and Percy will be spared the scene that would surely
follow if she met him, thinking he had come here for the purpose of
meeting her. Percy is going to the village and will try to get some
one to impersonate him. Of course it will not be a good-looking
young man he will get, either, and there is where the fun will come
in. Now, mother, do help us out, won’t you?

SUSAN (_shaking her head, as though in doubt_). I don’t like this
kind of business, Helen. But since Mr. Heartache seems to be such a
nice young man, an’ he is a painter, besides, I’ll do as you want
me to. The idea of Miss Renwick comin’ here for the purpose of
tryin’ to catch a husband!

HEL. Oh, mother, I am so glad. Now, then, if a man comes here and
is introduced as Mr. Percy Heartache, you will know what to do.

SUSAN. Yes; I’ll call Miss Renwick right away.

                    _Enter_ TROTWELL ROAMER, L.

ROAM. Is this the High Up Farm?

SUSAN. Yes; what do you want?

ROAM. (_setting down paint pots and brushes_). I’m the painter.

SUSAN (_looking at_ PERCY). The painter?

ROAM. Yes, my boss sent me over here to paint a boat for Mr. Rodney.

  SUSAN      }
             } (_in unison_). Oh!
  HEL.       }

PERCY (_smiling at the two_). I think this man might fill the bill.
Shall I ask him?

HEL. (_eagerly_). Yes, ask him, Percy. I am sure he would be just
the one. He is a painter, too. Think of it! (_Laughs._)

ROAM. Well, maybe I am an artist, then. Does that sound any better?

HEL. Much better, sir. You’ll surely do.

ROAM. Oh! I’ll paint the boat, all right. Where is she?

HEL. In the house. But you don’t want to see her yet. Wait until
you understand what we want you to do.

           (SUSAN _goes to churn and begins churning_.)

ROAM. (_looking at_ PERCY). What’s all this, anyhow? You ain’t
tryin’ to jolly me, are you?

PERCY. Not a bit, my friend. See here! Do you want to earn five
dollars?

ROAM. Do I? Don’t I look as though I did? Why, I’ve been trampin’
for three weeks without findin’ a job. I hit the village over here
last night an’ happened to land with Styles, the boss painter. This
morning he found out that I was all right, so he sent me over here
to paint a boat. But I didn’t think the boat was in the house.
(_Looks at_ HEL.)

HEL. The boat isn’t in the house. Percy, go on and tell him.

PERCY. Mr. What’s-Your-Name——

ROAM. Trotwell Roamer is my name, boss.

PERCY. Well, Mr. Trotwell Roamer, there is a young lady in the
house who is expecting a call from a young man she has never seen.
She is looking for a husband, and she will no doubt be dead struck
on you, if you take the part.

ROAM. (_looking at his overalls and ragged coat and laughing_).
Well, I don’t know why she wouldn’t be, boss. But go ahead with
your game. Let me see the color of that five-spot first. Then I’ll
feel more like listenin’ to you.

PERCY (_producing a five-dollar bill_). There you are. Now, then,
is it a go?

ROAM. You bet it is. But say! there ain’t no danger of a breach of
promise suit in this, is there?

PERCY (_laughing_). I hardly think so. Now, to be brief about it,
all you have got to do is to say that you are Percy Heartache, the
artist. You can say it to any one you meet, for that matter. But
the young lady—Hattie Renwick is her name—is the party the joke
is to be on. She has been corresponding with you, you know, and has
thrown out her net to catch you for a husband. Do you understand?

ROAM. (_shaking his head_). Putty well, boss. I’m Percy Heartache,
the artist, an’ she’s tryin’ to nail me for a husband. Yes, that’s
all right.

PERCY. Well, take this note, then. It will help you out, I think.

    (_Hands him_ HAT.’S _note_. ROAM. _reads it and nods
    approvingly_.)

ROAM. I guess I can fill the bill, boss. Leave it to me. I’ll bet
that young lady won’t want no artist for a husband after she’s
talked to me a while. I’ll settle her matrimonial aspirations, all
right. Give me that five-spot, an’ the thing will be done in fine
shape.

PERCY (_handing him the five-dollar bill_). I am sure you’ll do it
right, Mr. Roamer.

ROAM. (_strutting about_). Mr. Percy Heartache, please. There’s
my name, sir! (_Holds out envelope that is addressed to_ PERCY.)
I’m Percy Heartache, the artist, an’ here’s my paints an’ brushes.
Artist, eh? Well, I guess!

SUSAN (_ceasing her churning_). Come, Helen, help me take the churn
in the kitchen.

HEL. All right, mother.

    (_Smiles at_ PERCY _and exits_ R., _with her mother, carrying
    churn_.)

PERCY. Now, my friend, I’ll take a stroll around and leave you
here. The chances are that the young lady will soon appear. If she
does not, go and knock at the door and inquire for her. I will be
near at hand to see and hear the fun. If you carry it through right
I’ll give you another five.

ROAM. Gee! You bet I’ll do it right, boss. Another five, eh? Why, I
certainly am in luck. [_Exit_ PERCY, C.

   _Enter_ BILL, _carrying empty pail and blowing on harmonica_.

_Bill_. Hello! You’re ther man what’s come over to paint the boat,
ain’t yer? (_Looks at paint cans._)

ROAM. (_haughtily_). I am Percy Heartache, the artist.

BILL (_laughing loudly and wiping harmonica on sleeve and putting
in pocket_). You ain’t ther painter, then?

ROAM. No, I am the artist. Can you tell me where I can find Miss
Hattie Renwick?

BILL (_ignoring the question and pointing to paint cans_). Who does
ther paint an’ brushes belong to?

ROAM. The painter, I suppose. He was here a little while ago. But
see here, you thick-head! Where is the young lady who wrote this
letter to me?

BILL. Which one? There is two of ’em. So you’re ther artist, eh?
Well, I took two letters to ther post-office that was addressed
to Percy Heartache. I know I did, ’cause I kin read, an’ I read
’em over a dozen times. One was from Helen an’ ther other was from
Daisy.

ROAM. Who is Daisy?

BILL. Hattie Renwick is her right name. But I call her Daisy—or
Peach, ’cause she don’t like Daisy so well. I tell yer, Mr.
Artist! she’s a daisy an’ a peach, too. But I didn’t think no sech
scarecrow as you was the one she wrote to.

ROAM. (_angrily_). What do you mean by calling me a scarecrow? Just
because I have my working clothes on have I got to be insulted?

BILL (_stepping back in a frightened way_). Never mind, Mr. Artist.
Don’t hit me. I didn’t mean nothin’. If you want me to call Miss
Renwick I’ll do it for you.

ROAM. All right. Do so. But don’t let any one else in the house
know that the artist is here. You fetch Miss Renwick out, an’ when
I get some change I’ll give you a quarter.

       (_Shows_ BILL _the five-dollar bill Percy gave him_.)

BILL (_starting for house_). My! He’s got money, all right. But
blamed if I kin understand what Helen an’ Daisy wrote letters to
him for. Why, he looks like a regular tramp.

ROAM. (_menacingly_). What’s that?

BILL. Nothin’, Mr. Artist. I’ll have the peach out here in a jiffy.

    (_Exit_ BILL, R. ROAM. _sits on bench, crosses legs and
    removes hat. Brushes hair with his hand._)

ROAM. Well, this is funny business, an’ no mistake. What am I up
against, anyhow? But it’s all right. I’ve got one five-spot, an’
there is another one comin’, if I do ther job right. You bet I’m
ther one who kin do it, too. I ought to be an actor, instead of a
tramp painter. (_Starts._) Hello! here comes the girl, I suppose.
That thick-headed boy has found her, all right. Now to paralyze
her. (_Enter_ BILL _and_ HAT., R. ROAM. _rises and bows_.) How are
you, sweetness?

HAT. (_in dismay_). Who are you, sir?

ROAM. Percy Heartache, the artist, at your service, my own love.

BILL (_laughing uproariously_). That’s who he is, Peach. Ain’t he a
reg’lar dude?

HAT. (_clasping her hands_). Well, I never!

BILL. Neither did I, Peach. But here he is. You sent for him, he
says, so it ain’t none of my business. (_To_ ROAM., _sotto voce_.)
Don’t forgit that quarter when you git that bill changed.

ROAM. (_striking an attitude_). Avaunt! Quit my sight, thou silly
buffoon! Leave me alone in the presence of my adored one. [_Exit_
BILL, L.

HAT. Oh, oh, oh!

ROAM. (_dropping on knees before her_). Fear not, fair one. You
surely have not forgotten the words of love and devotion that have
passed between us in correspondence. Listen! I am not what I am!
Once I have cast aside my working clothes and appear in the costly
raiment that fits so well my youthful form you would not know me.
I am in disguise, my darling Hattie! Oh! come to my arms, my loved
one! Who would have dreamed that such bliss could exist upon this
mundane sphere? (_Rises._)

HAT. (_stepping back and facing audience_). Can it be that he has
donned this disguise simply to try me? It must be. I will listen
to him, for he speaks as no other man has ever done to me. (_To_
ROAM.) My dear Mr. Heartache, though I am somewhat surprised to
meet you in such attire, I will frankly say that I like your
manner of speech. You have undoubtedly disguised yourself as
a common laborer or tramp for the purpose of learning the true
depths of my affection for you. It is all right, Percy. Proceed
with your lovely words of conversation. I can see that you would
really be a handsome young man if you donned your proper attire
and—and—treated yourself to a bath.

ROAM. (_aside_). Great Scott! This business ain’t working the way
I thought it would. The first thing I know I’ll be in a breach of
promise suit, sure. But maybe that would be a better suit than the
one I am now wearing, so I’ll see it through if I bust!

    _Enter_ LUC., _at_ L. _Sees_ HAT. _and_ ROAM., _and steps
    back to watch and listen_. BILL _appears at_ C., _and does
    the same_.

HAT. (_smiling_). Sit down on the bench, Mr. Heartache.

LUC. (_aside_). Mr. Heartache! Why, that must be the artist Helen
is infatuated with. Well, what is the girl thinking about? Why,
that fellow is nothing but a tramp. They say listeners never hear
any good of themselves, but I am going to hear this through, or
know the reason why.

ROAM. (_sitting down_). Well, what do you want me to do now?

HAT. Talk like you did a little while ago.

                     (_Sits down beside him._)

ROAM. An’ call you darlin’, an’ all that?

HAT. Yes, please.

BILL (_hardly able to restrain himself, going through all sorts of
motions_). If this ain’t a circus there never was one.

ROAM. Well, darlin’, how have yer been since I saw you last?

HAT. Since you saw me last? Why, you never saw me before.

ROAM. I mean how have you been since you heard from me last?

HAT. Oh, fine.

ROAM. So have I. I am sorry I put on my working clothes, for I
would like to give you a good hug.

    (_Stretches out his arms as though to embrace her, but she
    gets up and out of his way._)

HAT. No such liberties yet, Percy.

ROAM. Well, if I go back an’ put on my good clothes will it be all
right?

HAT. It might. But don’t go yet.

ROAM. (_looking at audience despairingly_). All right, my love.

HAT. There! That sounds real nice.

ROAM. What does?

HAT. What you just said.

ROAM. Does it, darling?

HAT. Oh, my! I really wish you had not worn your working clothes,
Percy.

ROAM. (_looking at his overalls and shaking his head_). Well, what
was I going to do? I can take these off, though.

    (_Jumps up and hurriedly takes off overalls and tosses them
    alongside the paint cans near_ C. HAT. _backs half-way
    to_ R. _during the operation, holding up her hands_. LUC.
    _seems almost on the verge of fainting, while_ BILL _stuffs
    a handkerchief in his mouth to keep from exploding_.)

HAT. Oh! you look much better already, Percy.

ROAM. Yes; I borrowed these trousers of my boss—I mean I loaned a
good pair of trousers to a man I have working for me.

HAT. Oh! I see.

ROAM. I’m a reg’lar dude when I’m fixed up, dear. Shall I give you
a good hug now?

HAT. Not yet, please. But say! you must paint lovely pictures.

ROAM. I do, dearest.

HAT. I should like to have you paint me some time.

ROAM. I’ll be pleased to. Who did the job for you to-day?

HAT. (_sharply_). What is that, sir?

ROAM. A bum artist did the job, I’m sure. Too much vermilion.

HAT. What are you talking about?

ROAM. I was thinking of a picture a rival of mine painted. I must
have expressed my thoughts aloud.

HAT. Oh! is that it?

ROAM. Yes, dearest. Now, if you’ll only name the happy day I’ll
hurry back to my hotel and get togged out a little. I can be back
in an hour. (_Rises._) Shall I leave word at the preacher’s and
tell him we’ll soon be there?

HAT. What are you talking about?

ROAM. Getting married. I’m ready right now.

HAT. I shall have to know more about you before I think of taking
such a serious step as that.

ROAM. Didn’t you advertise for a husband?

HAT. Well, I—er—suppose I did.

ROAM. (_striking an attitude_). Well, here he is. If you want me
for better or worse, just say the word. I’ll surely die, though, if
you say no.

         (_Edges toward_ C., _to take a hasty departure_.)

HAT. (_divining his intention_). Hold on, Percy Heartache! You
cannot trifle with me this way. If you think you are having a joke
with me, I tell you plainly that you have gone too far. You have
proposed to me, and I shall hold you to it. My answer to your
proposal is that I must have a short time to think.

ROAM. (_starting toward overalls and paint cans_). I guess I had
better get away from here.

HAT. (_springing forward and catching with both hands_). You
proposed to me, and you shall not go until I have given my answer.

ROAM. Let go, girl. This is only a joke.

LUC. (_rushing toward him, brandishing parasol_). Joke, eh? Well,
I will appear as a witness against you. You are a rascal to trifle
with a poor girl like that. I heard all your conversation, sir.

BILL (_appearing_). Me, too! Don’t marry that man, Peach. He ain’t
nothin’ more than a tramp.

    (ROAM. _succeeds in freeing himself, and runs off_ C.,
    _leaving paint cans and overalls behind_. LUC. _and_ BILL
    _run after them_.)


                           QUICK CURTAIN




                              ACT III


    SCENE.—_Lawn of the “High Up Farm.” Same as Act II, save
    that the table is spread for “Tea.”_

             _Enter_ PERCY. _Looks about searchingly._

PERCY. I am too late, I see. I guess, by the shouting, and the loud
talk I heard, something must have happened. They must have chased
the tramp. Well, I wonder how Miss Renwick liked the artist she
was so anxious to meet? I hope she won’t show up while I am here.
If she does it might be a little awkward. But I have it! I’ll let
Helen introduce me as Mr. Roamer, if she does come. I have as much
right to take the tramp’s name as he had to take mine. That will
be all right. I’ll speak to Helen about it right away. (_Looks at
paint cans and overalls._) I may as well put these things out of
sight. Perhaps Trotwell Roamer will come back and get them later.
(_Picks up paint cans and overalls and starts to_ C.)

             _Enter_ HIRAM _and_ HICKORY HOMESPUN, L.

HIRAM. Well, Hick, if you make up your mind to take that cow you
can have her for forty dollars. She’s dirt cheap at that, an’ I
wouldn’t think of selling her if——Hello! (_Sees_ PERCY _standing
near_ C., _with paint cans and overalls in his hands_.) So you’ve
got here, have you?

PERCY. Why—er—yes. You are Mr. Rodney, Helen’s father, are you not?

HIRAM. That’s right. Have you seen her yet?

             (_Means the boat that is to be painted._)

PERCY. Yes, sir, I have seen her.

HIRAM (_thinking_ PERCY _is surely the painter sent over by Jim
Styles to paint the boat_). Well, what do you think of her? Are you
going to start in to-day? It seems a little late. But maybe you’ve
just brought over your paint, so you can start in the first thing
in the morning.

PERCY (_looking at what he has in his hands, and very much
confused_). Why, I—er——

HIRAM. That’s all right. To-morrer mornin’ will do. I guess she
can wait till that time. But say, young feller, you must go easy
when you tip her over, ’cause her stays might break. They’re pretty
old, and I don’t want to put no more expense on her than I kin help.

PERCY (_aside_). Heavens! What is the man driving at? He must be
crazy! To speak of his own daughter in this way! What does it mean?

      (_Backs toward_ R., _still holding cans and overalls_.)

HIRAM. Where are you goin’? Come on over to the lake, and we’ll
look her over together. (_Turns to_ HICK.) You come, too, Hick.

HICK. Certain I will, Hiram.

PERCY (_much confused_). I—er—think there must be some mistake.

HIRAM. Mistake, eh? Well, I guess not. You was sent for, wasn’t you?

PERCY. Yes, but——

HIRAM. Maybe you don’t like the looks of her.

PERCY. Oh, yes, I do, Mr. Rodney. She is the nicest——

HICK. (_laughing heartily_). He ain’t much of a judge, is he, Hiram?

HIRAM. Well, I don’t know. He looks as though he ought to know
a good model from a bad one. But say. (_Nods to Percy._) If you
feel like it, and think it ain’t too late, you might start in to
scrapin’ the paint off her sides right now. You’ll find she’s
pretty well roughed up; but you can fix that all right. You’ll have
to go a bit careful when you come to the waist. She’s been layin’
on one side so long that I s’pose the sun has done some damage.
Most likely she’s blistered a little.

PERCY. Blistered!

HICK. Blistered, of course. There ain’t nothing strange about that,
is there?

HIRAM. Jim Styles told you it was to be white outside and yaller
inside, didn’t he?

PERCY (_stepping back and turning to audience_). Ah! Now I know
there is a mistake. He does not refer to his daughter at all.
(_To_ HIRAM.) Pardon me, Mr. Rodney, but to whom or what are you
referring?

HIRAM (_turning to_ HICK. _and showing surprise_). Well, what do
you think of that, Hick?

HICK. Must be a born fool.

HIRAM. He don’t know what he was sent over here for, it seems.

HICK. Seems not. (_Nods head gravely._) He don’t look like a
painter, anyhow, Hiram.

HIRAM. But he’s got everything with him to do the job.

PERCY. I did not come here to do any work. These things (_setting
them down near_ C.) belong to another party. I just picked them
up to set them aside as you came here. I am not a painter, but an
artist.

HICK. Well, I swan!

HIRAM (_showing surprise_). So you didn’t come here to paint our
boat, then?

PERCY (_much relieved_). I certainly did not, sir.

HIRAM. What did you come here for?

PERCY. I came at the invitation of your daughter Helen.

HIRAM. Jumpin’ bullfrogs! What do you think of that, Hick?

HICK. Sort of a misunderstandin’, it seems. (_He laughs._) He
thought you was speakin’ of Helen, and you was meanin’ the old boat
all the time. (_Laughs uproariously._) Oh, dear! What a joke.

PERCY. Well, I am very sorry that such a mistake should be made.
But I can easily understand now. It is rather unfortunate, but no
harm has been done.

HIRAM. Not as I knows of, young fellow. So Helen invited you to
come over, did she?

PERCY. Yes, she did.

HIRAM. Well, I reckon I had better call her out, then. (_Calls to_
R.) Helen! Helen!

HEL. (_unseen by audience_). What is it, father?

HIRAM. You’re wanted here right away.

           _Enter_ HEL., R. PERCY _hurries to meet her_.

PERCY (_sotto voce_). Introduce me as Mr. Roamer. The Peach might
come back and spoil things, you know.

HEL. (_sotto voce_). All right, Percy, I understand. (_Then to_
HIRAM.) Well, father?

HIRAM. This young man came over to see you, he says.

HEL. Yes, I know. Let me introduce you to him, father. (_Turns to_
PERCY.) Mr. Roamer, this is my father. (PERCY _and_ HIRAM _shake
hands_. HEL. _to_ HICK.) Mr. Homespun, let me make you acquainted
with Mr. Roamer, the painter—(_becoming confused_) or artist,
which? (_Looks at_ PERCY.)

PERCY (_laughingly_). Which, I guess. (_Shakes with_ HICK.)

HICK. What do you think, Helen? Your father was talkin’ about
havin’ his boat scraped an’ painted, an’ this young man thought he
was meanin’ you all the time. Funny mistake, wasn’t it? (_Laughs
heartily._)

HEL. I should say it was a funny mistake, Hick. How did it happen,
father?

HIRAM. Well, I was expectin’ a painter to come over to paint
the boat white outside and yaller inside, an’ when I seen this
young man standin’ here with them things (_pointing to cans and
overalls_) in his hands, I thought he was the man. I didn’t know he
had come over on an invite from you. But (_looking at the table_)
what’s goin’ on, anyhow? What have you got the table set outside
for?

HEL. Oh! we are going to have a little party. Mother thought it
would be a good idea to have some company over, so the new boarder
wouldn’t be lonesome. (_Turns to_ HICK.) The widow is here, too,
Hick.

HICK. (_looking around in a startled way_). Where is she, Helen?

HEL. (_laughing_). Around somewhere. We are going to have a very
nice time, I am sure.

HICK. (_edging toward_ C.). I’m goin’ home.

HIRAM (_catching him by the arm_). No, you don’t, Hick! You ain’t
afraid of the widder any more than I am. You are goin’ to stay
right here an’ have tea with us. Besides, I want to sell you that
cow before you go home.

HICK. Well, I’ll take her, Hiram.

HEL. (_laughing_). The widow, Hick?

HICK. (_excitedly_). No! The cow, I mean. I’ll be over after her in
the mornin’.

        (_Tries to go again, but is restrained by_ HIRAM.)

HIRAM. Now, see here, Hick Homespun. The trouble with you is that
you’re a lot too bashful. You know well enough that you ought to
have somebody around that nice little home of yours to cook your
meals an’ fetch your slippers for you nights when you come in after
doin’ a hard day’s work. There’s the Widder Wheatchaff for you,
Hick! She’s a fine little woman, an’ I happen to know that she
thinks a powerful lot of you, too.

HICK. (_becoming interested_). How do you know that?

HIRAM. Well, I reckon I’ve got eyes an’ ears. (_Slaps_ HICK, _on
the back_.) Come! brace up, old feller. You wasn’t born to die an
old bachelor.

    (PERCY _and_ HEL. _are conversing in whispers and getting
    along nicely_.)

HICK. (_meditating for a moment_). Well, I’ll take her. I’ll be
over after her in the mornin’.

HIRAM. Good enough! I’ll tell her just as soon as she comes out.

HICK. (_protestingly_). No, no! I mean the cow.

HEL. Tell the cow, then, father.

                      (_All laugh but_ HICK.)

          _Enter_ BILL, C., _mopping face with bandana_.

BILL. Whew! If that wasn’t a run! I never had so much fun in my
life! Can’t that city gal run, though! Why, she went through the
corn-field like a two-year-old heifer on the rampage! That artist
wasn’t no match for her at all. But he might have got away if he
hadn’t stumbled an’ hit his head agin a pile of fence rails. She’s
got him! Lucinda is helpin’ her bring him back. There’s goin’ to be
a breach of promise suit. Wow!

    (_Does a tumbling act, or anything comical or ridiculous,
    laughing uproariously._)

HIRAM (_surprised and angered_). What in thunderation is the matter
with the boy?

HICK. Acts as though he’s been took with a fit.

HEL. (_taking_ HIRAM _by the sleeve_). I think I know what is the
matter, father. It seems that our boarder made an appointment
with some man she had never seen in her life, though she had
corresponded with him, of course. He proposed to her, and when he
found she was willing to consider it he changed his mind and tried
to get away. She gave pursuit, and Bill and Lucinda, who happened
to be here, helped her catch him. Miss Renwick is anxious to marry
some one, and after corresponding with the man she set her cap for
him before she had even seen him. Mother and I came out on the
porch in time to hear the last of it. Don’t interfere, father.
Let them bring the man here. I am sure you will laugh when you
understand what a joke it is.

HIRAM (_looking at_ HICK.). Well, I swan!

HICK. So do I, Hiram.

BILL (_getting upon his feet_). Me, too!

PERCY (_whispering in_ HIRAM’S _ear_). You understand, Mr. Rodney.

HIRAM. Well, I’ll be gum-swizzled! If that don’t beat all.

HICK. (_looking toward_ C.). Here they come now. (_Edges away._) I
guess I’ll be goin’. I’ll be over after her in the mornin’, Hiram.

HIRAM (_catching him_). No, you won’t, Hick. You kin take her home
to-night.

HICK. You’ll have to lend me a rope, then.

HIRAM (_laughing_). Oh, you won’t need no rope—not for the widder.

BILL. Might need one to hang himself with after he gits her.

       (_Laughs boisterously and executes funny business._)

PERCY (_to_ HEL.). A sort of roping-in game, I think.

HEL. It surely is.

         _Enter_ SUSAN, R. _Excited voices outside at_ C.

SUSAN. What’s going on here? What does all this excitement mean,
anyhow?

HEL. (_running to_ SUSAN). Mother, the joke is not over with yet.
It seems that Miss Renwick took it seriously, and she has caught
the tramp. She is fetching him here, and Lucinda is helping her.
Bill says it is a case of a breach of promise suit.

SUSAN. Well, I never! That girl must be a fool.

HEL. She wants a man, mother.

SUSAN (_shaking her head_). Well, she must want one pretty bad,
then.

HEL. Now remember, mother, Percy is supposed to be Mr. Roamer.

SUSAN. And the tramp is supposed to be Mr. Heartache?

HEL. Of course. He introduced himself that way, so it will remain
so until Miss Renwick gets enough of it.

    (HIRAM _and_ BILL _are holding_ HICK. _so he cannot escape_.
    PERCY _looks on smilingly. Loud voices outside_, ROAM.
    _calling out excitedly: “Stop! Stop! I want to get away from
    here!”_)

PERCY (_running to_ C.). What does this mean?

    _Enter_ HAT. _and_ LUC., C., _dragging_ ROAM. _with them_.

LUC. The base deceiver!

HAT. (_letting go of_ ROAM. _and wringing her hands excitedly_).
Oh! Oh!

HIRAM. That must be the man Styles sent over to paint the boat.

ROAM. (_eagerly_). I’m the man, boss. Just get me away from these
women and I’ll go right to work.

LUC. (_letting go her hold upon_ ROAM., _and looking surprised_).
But he proposed to Miss Renwick, Hiram.

ROAM. That was a joke. (_Looks at_ PERCY, _who shakes finger
warningly_.) I found a letter she had written to some one, and I
made out I was the man. I’m only a common tramp painter. She don’t
want me for a husband, unless she feels like earning the livin’.

HAT. (_throwing up her hands and staggering about as though she is
going to fall_). Oh! I shall faint—I know I will. Somebody catch
me—quick!

HICK. (_starting forward to catch her_). Don’t fall, miss.

LUC. (_grabbing_ HICK. _by the collar and pulling him back_). Let
her fall, if she wants to. The first thing you know she will be
trying to make you propose to her.

HICK. (_meekly_). All right, Lucinda.

HAT. (_making another stagger about_). Oh! Oh! I know I shall faint.

 (_She falls and_ BILL _catches her and carries her to a bench_.)

BILL (_soothingly_). That’s all right, Peach. I’ll marry you when I
git big enough. You don’t want no lazy tramp for a husband.

HAT. (_rousing up and becoming indignant_). The idea! Who said I
wanted to marry any one? Why, I wouldn’t marry the best man living!

LUC. (_to_ HICK., _whom she is still holding_). Good reason, maybe.
She couldn’t get you, Hick, and I think you are the best man living.

HICK. (_grinning_). Do you mean that, Lucinda?

LUC. I always say what I mean, Hick Homespun.

HICK. Let’s go look at that cow. [_Exeunt_ HICK. _and_ LUC., L.

BILL (_roaring with laughter_). She’s got him. Hick is a goner!

HAT. (_to_ SUSAN). Mrs. Rodney, I think I will go to my room.

SUSAN (_persuasively_). Don’t do that, Miss Renwick. If there has
been a joke played, take it good-naturedly.

HAT. How can I? (_Looks around despairingly._)

HEL. Let me introduce you to Mr. Roamer, Miss Renwick.

HAT. (_bowing stiffly_). Pleased to meet him.

BILL (_coming to_ SUSAN). Is supper ready yet, Missus Rodney?

SUSAN. Not yet, Bill.

BILL. S’pose we have a little dance, then? (_Produces harmonica and
clappers._) Take your partners for a quadrille, and look out for
paint!

    (_Strikes up a lively air—or if he cannot play, the
    orchestra does it for him._)

  _Enter_ HICK. _and_ LUC., L. _Both are smiling and look happy._

HIRAM (_seizing_ SUSAN). Come on, old gal! We’ll have a little
square set right here on the lawn.

    (_They take heads for the set._ PERCY _and_ HEL. _take
    positions opposite them, and then_ LUC. _pulls_ HICK. _over
    and they take one of the sides._)

ROAM. (_as_ PERCY _points to_ HAT.). I suppose we may as well make
up the set, Miss Renwick.

    (HAT. _permits herself to be led by him to the opposite
    side. Then_ BILL _lets himself go and the dance begins_.)

BILL. Salute your partners.

    (BILL _calls more figures and then_ ROAM. _breaks away
    suddenly and runs off_ C. LUC. _holds tightly to_ HICK.
    BILL _backs against table and overturns it. Crash!_)


                              CURTAIN




                    By the Author of “Mr. Bob”


                          THE NEW CRUSADE

                       A Comedy in Two Acts

                      _By Rachel Baker Gale_

Twelve females. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays one
hour and thirty minutes. A very amusing satire of the servant girl
question, brimful of telling incidents and effective lines. All the
parts are good and of nearly equal opportunity, and practically
play themselves. Well rehearsed, it is a sure success and goes with
a scream. Irish, negro and Swede character parts and a “tough”
girl. Strongly recommended for ladies’ clubs. Can be played only on
payment of a royalty of $5.00 to the author.

                         _Price, 25 cents_

                            CHARACTERS

  MISS MORRIS, _nothing if not businesslike_.
  MRS. COGSWELL-BROWN, _who believes in coöperative housekeeping_.
  MRS. POTTER-HEWITT, _who looks small, but is not_.
  MRS. RAYMOND, _who advocates_ “_The New Crusade_.”
  MRS. ARCHIBALD TRACEY, _in search of a maid and experience_.
  BRIDGETT MAHONEY, _in search of_ “_an ould gintleman_.”
  MARY MACGUIRE, _who likes_ “_the theyatre in the winter toime_.”
  AUGUSTA OLSEN, _who comes from_ “_Sveden for big monay_.”
  CASSIE CLAY, _who never_ “_takes suggestions from anybody_.”
  JENNIE BURCH, _who never_ “_has time for afternoon tea_.”
  MATILDA JOHNSON, _who likes_ “_slaughtermobiles and a choffer_.”
  MERRY, _the settlement girl—who’s always_ “_on de level_.”


                       COATS AND PETTICOATS

                        A Comedy in One Act

                      _By Rachel Baker Gale_

One male (played by a woman), seven females, and if desired,
sixteen girls for chorus. Costumes, modern; scene, an interior.
Plays forty-five minutes. A very lively and amusing piece
introducing fancy dresses, music and dancing. All the parts of
about equal opportunity. Irish comedy part and two capital “old
maids.” Very funny and not difficult. Complete with music for the
Suffragettes’ song and march and the Old Maids’ song and march.
Very strongly recommended.

                         _Price, 25 cents_


                           AN EASY MARK

                        A Farce in One Act

                     _By Innis Gardner Osborn_

Five males, two females. Costumes, modern; scene, an easy interior.
Plays thirty-five minutes. A side-splitting farce of college life
lively enough to suit the most exacting demands. Full of funny
incident and telling lines. Burlesque actor and “tough” young man
parts; the rest “straight” and all good. Recommended for schools.

                        _Price, 15 cents._




                             New Plays


                           ELMWOOD FOLKS

                       A Drama in Three Acts

                        _By Charles S. Bird
                Author of “At the Junction,” etc._

Eight males, four females. Costumes, modern; scenery, two
interiors, one exterior. Plays a full evening. An easy and
very actable piece with an unusually even cast of characters.
Clean, wholesome and entertaining; can be recommended for school
performance.

                         _Price, 25 cents_

                            CHARACTERS

  DAVID BAINBRIDGE, _editor of the Elmwood_ “_Item_.”
  JAMES WENTWORTH, _an old compositor_.
  SQUIRE ALFORD, _a hard man_.
  DICK ALFORD, _his stepson, a young lawyer_.
  WHITTIER JONES, _a contributor to the_ “_Item_.”
  TOMMY GAY, _David’s apprentice_.
  MR. PINCH, _an officer_.
  A MESSENGER BOY.
  MRS. BAINBRIDGE, _David’s wife_.
  BESSIE BAINBRIDGE, _their daughter_.
  DRUCILLA JONES, _Whittier’s aunt_.
  MARY GAY, _Mrs. Bainbridge’s maid_. _Tommy’s sister._

                             SYNOPSIS

  ACT I.—Office of the Elmwood _Item_.
  ACT II.—Lawn beside the Bainbridge home.
  ACT III.—Parlor in the same.


                         HER UNCLE’S BOOTS

                        A Farce in One Act

                 _By Mrs. Myrtle Barber Carpenter_

Seven females. Costumes, modern; scene, an easy interior. Plays
thirty minutes. An easy and effective little play suitable for
Girls’ Schools or young people in amateur theatricals. Very funny,
but with a sympathetic thread of interest. Clean and bright.
Recommended.

                         _Price, 15 cents_


                            AN OUTSIDER
                A College Play for Girls in One Act
                       _By Wilhemen Wilkes_

Seven females. Costumes, modern; scenery, an interior. Plays
thirty-five minutes. An unusually strong and sympathetic little
play for its length and pretensions, strongly recommended to
schools. The story turns upon a basket-ball match and is full of
interest.

                         _Price, 15 cents_


                     THE SISTERHOOD OF BRIDGET

                       A Farce in Three Acts

                      _By Robert Elwin Ford_

Seven males, six females. Costumes modern; scenery, easy interiors.
Plays two hours. An easy, effective and very humorous piece turning
upon the always interesting servant-girl question. A very unusual
number of comedy parts; all the parts good. Easy to get up and well
recommended.

                         _Price, 25 cents_

                            CHARACTERS

  EDWARD MASON, _a wealthy stockbroker_.
  LORD CURTON, _in search of a wife with money_.
  WARD LEIGHTON, _lieutenant of the 176th Regiment_.
  MIKE MCSHANE, _driver of a milk cart_.
  JIMMY MACRAE, _page at Mr. Mason’s_.
  MRS. MASON, _socialist and æsthete_.
  ELEANOR MASON, _her daughter_.
  BRIDGET, _the cook_.
  JOSIE RILEY,} _housemaids_.
  EMMA HONE,  }
  MARY MACRAE, _Jimmy’s sister_.
  TIMOTHY ROUKE, _house painter_.
  WILLIAM, _butler at Mr. Mason’s_.


                      THE ALL-AMERICA ELEVEN

                         _By M. N. Beebe_

Twelve males. Costumes modern; scenery unnecessary. Plays fifteen
minutes. An up-to-date and popular entertainment for boys in one
scene, sure to please both the boys and the audience. Characters:
Football Boy, Baseball Boy, Tennis Boy, Office Boy, Messenger Boy,
Country Boy, Chinese Boy, Jewish Boy, Irish Boy, Indian Boy, Negro
Boy and Trainer.

                         _Price, 15 cents_


                      TAKING THE THIRD DEGREE
                           IN THE GRANGE

                        _By A. C. Daniels_

Seventeen males. Costumes eccentric; scenery unnecessary. Plays ten
minutes. A burlesque initiation in one act, especially adapted for
a Grange entertainment. Very simple, very clean and wholly lacking
in horse-play and acrobatics. Well suited for its purpose.

                         _Price, 15 cents_




                        New Entertainments


                          OUR CHURCH FAIR

               A Farcical Entertainment in Two Acts

                       _By Jessie A. Kelley_

Twelve females. Costumes modern; scenery unimportant. Plays an hour
and a quarter. A humorous picture of the planning of the annual
church fair by the ladies of the sewing circle. Full of local
hits and general human nature, and a sure laugh-producer in any
community. Can be recommended.

                         _Price, 25 cents_

                            CHARACTERS

  MRS. ROBERTS, _who wants to be president_.
  MRS. HENRY, _young, giddy, fond of novels_.
  MRS. JACKSON, _the president of the society_.
  MRS. BRETT, _on the dinner committee_.
  MRS. LEWIS, _the minister’s wife_.
  MRS. LAWSON, _plump_.
  MRS. BROWN, _anxious to get new church attendants_.
  MRS. ADDISON, _very inquisitive_.
  MRS. RIDGELY, _sensitive_.
  MRS. OTIS, _on the dinner committee_.
  MRS. THOMPSON, _decidedly close_.
  MRS. DREW, _just married_.


                         THE RIVAL CHOIRS

                   An Entertainment in One Scene

                      _By Sherman F. Johnson_

Seven males, four females. Costumes eccentric; scenery unimportant.
Plays one hour. A novelty in musical entertainments, introducing
the old choir and the new in competition. A novel setting for a
concert, offering an interesting contrast between the old music and
the new. Lots of incidental fun, character and human nature. Sure
to please. Originally produced in Meriden, Conn.

                         _Price, 25 cents_


                       A THIEF IN THE HOUSE

                        A Comedy in One Act

                        _By R. M. Robinson_

Six males, one playing a female character (colored). Costumes
modern scenery, an interior. Plays forty-five minutes. A
first-class play for male characters only, of strong dramatic
interest with plenty of comedy. A play that can be recommended, in
spite of its lack of female characters, to any audience.

  _Price, 25 cents_




                             New Plays


                       THE TIME OF HIS LIFE

                      A Comedy in Three Acts

                      _By C. Leona Dalrymple_

Six males, three females. Costumes modern; scenery, two
interiors, or can be played in one. Plays two hours and a half.
A side-splitting piece, full of action and a sure success if
competently acted. Tom Carter’s little joke of impersonating the
colored butler has unexpected consequences that give him “the time
of his life.” Very highly recommended for High School performance.

                         _Price, 25 cents_

                            CHARACTERS

  MR. BOB GREY.
  MRS. BOB GREY.
  TOM CARTER, _Mrs. Grey’s brother_.
  MRS. PETER WYCOMBE, _a_ “_personage_.”
  MR. PETER WYCOMBE, _a “pessimist” with a digestion_.
  DOROTHY LANDON, _secretly engaged to Tom Carter_.
  MR. JAMES LANDON, SR., _Dorothy’s father; of a peppery disposition_.
  UNCLE TOM, _an old colored butler from the South_.
  OFFICER HOGAN, _of the Twenty-Second Street Police Station_.


                         EETHER OR EYTHER

                        A Farce in One Act

                     _By Robert C. V. Meyers_

Four males, four females. Costumes modern; scene, an interior.
Plays thirty minutes. A clever parlor play, similar in idea to the
popular “Obstinate Family.” Sure to please.

                         _Price, 15 cents_


                    THE MORNING AFTER THE PLAY

                        A Comedy in One Act

                        _By Willis Steell_

Two males, three females. Costumes modern; scene, an interior.
Plays twenty minutes. An easy piece of strong dramatic interest,
originally produced in Vaudeville by Christy Clifford. Free to
amateurs; royalty required for professional performance.

                         _Price, 15 cents_




                        New Entertainments


                  TAKING THE CENSUS IN BINGVILLE

                    An Entertainment in One Act

                       _By Jessie A. Kelly_

Fourteen males, eight females. Costumes, modern; scenery,
unimportant. Plays an hour and a half. One of the always popular
go-as-you-please entertainments; just a lot of laughs strung on a
very slender wire of story. Full of eccentric character bits and
chances for local hits. A sure success for the laughter-loving.
Recommended for church societies or intimate communities.

                         _Price, 25 cents_

                            CHARACTERS

  CENSUS TAKER.
  ROSY GRADY, _an Irish maid_.
  PATRICK MALONE, _a policeman who didn’t want to be examined_.
  BILL WATT, _not so bright, but still gets ahead of them all_.
  MR. HARDER, _chauffeur_.
  MR. KNOTT, _aeronaut_.
  MR. STONE, _farmer who has rheumatiz_.
  MRS. JONES, _a much married woman_.
  MR. SALOON, _a barber who is_ “_Henglish_.”
  DR. DUNCAN.
  MRS. TIBBETS, _who tries to be young_.
  MR. SINGLE, _an editor_.
  MR. JEPSON, _a grocer-postmaster_.
  MRS. SAMPSON, _who has a large family_.
  MR. MORE, _an undertaker_.
  MRS. MURPHY, _who is proud of her name_.
  MISS HARTLEY, _a teacher_.
  MR. SHARP, _a lawyer who is looking for clients_.
  TONY, _a fruit dealer_.
  MR. ELWOOD, _a minister_.
  MRS. STONE, _a farmer’s wife who is afraid she has hookworm_.
  SUSIE GIBBS, _who is love-sick_.


                      THE DAY OF THE DUCHESS

                        A Farce in One Act

                      _By Alice C. Thompson_

Twelve females. Costumes, modern; scenery, an easy interior. Plays
thirty minutes. A clever and amusing little play for all girls,
particularly suited for schools because of its number of small
parts. Requires only three or four prominent people. Recommended.

                         _Price, 15 cents_


                         AN IRISH INVASION

                        A Comedy in One Act

                      _By Alice C. Thompson_

Eight females. Costumes, modern; scenery, an easy interior. Plays
thirty minutes. A very pretty and touching little play with plenty
of fun introducing refined Irish characters, old country and new.
A most original and effective idea, and sure to please. Nothing
coarse and rough about it; tone high and well suited for schools.

                         _Price, 15 cents_




  =TRANSCRIBER’S NOTE=


  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

  Bold text is denoted by =equal signs=.

  Obvious typographical errors and punctuation errors have been
  corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within
  the text and consultation of external sources.

  Some hyphens in words have been silently removed, some added,
  when a predominant preference was found in the original book.

  Archaic words have been retained.