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.

=HIS 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, an interior. Plays two hours and a half.


  Sent prepaid on receipt of price by

  Walter H. Baker & Company
  No. 5 Hamilton Place, Boston, Massachusetts




  At Hotel On-de-Blink

  An Entertainment in Two Parts

  By
  GEORGE P. SEILER
  _Author of “Schmerecase in School,” etc._

         *       *       *       *       *

  Boston
  WALTER H. BAKER & CO.
  1916




At Hotel On-de-Blink

       *       *       *       *       *

                              CHARACTERS

                        (_As originally cast_)

  HANS SEITZ, _not proprietor; he “owns der blace”_     _Mr. Jno. Welker_
  GRETCH, _his daughter, “I bane tink”_                _Miss Katie Siren_
  SAMP L. CASE, _a knight of the road_                   _Mr. Chas. Huth_
  ANTONIO BOOTLASHOESA MORECHEESA, _a lost dago_             _Mr. Seiler_
  WEBER FIELDS, _of darker hue_                       _Mr. Calvin Helmke_
  RUSTY RUFFLES, _no account; “in-cog”_                 _Mr. Paul Stuart_
  BELL HOP, _the wise kid_                                _Mr. Edw. Luft_
  MISS GOTROX, _one of the boarders_                     _Miss Olga Tate_
  ARCHIBALD NUTT, _mother’s pet_                           _Mr. Gus Duble_


                              PROPERTIES

Newspaper on counter. Lamp on counter--lighted. Grip for S. L. Case to
carry. Baby--big doll--for Gretch to fetch on.

Place signs about:

  “Tripe, 5c. a yard; 3 ft. for a nickel.”
  “Board, 5c. a foot.”
  “Eye scream, 10c. a porchun.”
  “Eggs, 1 month or younger, 2c. each.”
    Etc., etc., etc.


[Illustration]


COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY WALTER H. BAKER & CO.




                               COSTUMES


HANS SEITZ. Suit much too large, very loose collar, small tie, red
handkerchief. Made up partly bald head, Dutch chin whiskers. Wears
glasses. Character very good when played by a very stout person.

GRETCH. Dutch basque costume. Black basque, red skirt, white apron,
white cap and stockings, black shoes. Wear hair braided down back in
two plats. Should be made up ruddy complexion and use brogue throughout.

SAMP L. CASE. Every day business (loud) suit. Made up healthy, clean
shaven. Carries grip.

ANTONIO BOOTLASHOESA MORECHEESA, of the lower class Italian. Old coat,
slouch hat, much worn. Pants too large in waist. Old shoes. Made up
olive complexion, ten day growth beard.

WEBER FIELDS, the typical lazy darky. Large mouth. Wears blue shirt,
old pants and shoes.

RUSTY RUFFLES, the characteristic tramp life. Old clothes, a piece of
hat, short, stumpy beard.

BELL HOP. Regulation hop uniform.

MISS GOTROX. A seashore beauty. Dressed all in white. Carries sunshade.
Dainty and inclined to flirt.

ARCHIBALD NUTT, the effeminate variety. Ruddy complexion, sport shirt
open far down in front, red tie. White trousers, sox and shoes. Must be
played sissyfied and affected to be effective.




                               Programme

                           Hotel On-de-Blink


                            Part the First

  Scene      Lobby of the hotel “On-de-Blink.”

  GRAND OLIO

  Song       Italy                                   Mr. Seiler
  Song       Cover Your Garbage Can                  Mr. Helmke
  Song       Can I Trust You In the Same Old Way       Mr. Huth
  Song       Vould dot Tickle Der Kaiser             Mr. Welker
  Song       Rat-proofing New Orleans                Mr. Stuart


                             Intermission.

                   *       *       *       *       *

                            Part the Second

  Scene      The same.

  OLIO

  Song         Roll on Beautiful World                          Miss Tate
  Song         The Little Old Ford Rambled On                  Mr. Helmke
  Song         You Couldn’t Hardly Notice It at All            Miss Siren
  Song         When You Wore a Tulip                  Mr. Welker assisted
  Quartette    Selected airs                                       Finale
                 Welker, Huth, Helmke, Seiler




                         At Hotel On-de-Blink




    SCENE I.--_An interior, full depth of stage. Doors_ L. C., _in
    flat_, R. 1 E., R. 2 E., L. 1 E., _and_ L. 2 E. _A counter
    runs along the back from right wall to_ C., _and there is a
    chair up_ L., _on the other side of the door at back_. _Between
    doors_ R. 1 E. _and_ R. 2 E. _there is a hat-rack, and at_ L.
    C., _half-way down stage, there is another seat_.

    (_Discover_ HANS SEITZ _and_ GRETCH _as curtain rises_. HANS
    _walking about excitedly and_ GRETCH _straightening things out
    about the counter_.)

HANS. Vere iss id? Vere iss id? For vy you don’t sbeak, shut up, talk
louder, don’t say a vord? (_Pause._) Vell?

GRETCH. Vass iss, fader? Vy dot oxcitement? Vot you lose I bane like to
know?

HANS. Ach himmel, I lose my mind und you don’t look for id.

GRETCH. You lose your mind from der head oud? I bane tink ven any one
loses der mind dey don’t find it so easily. Vere iss der boarders?

HANS. Vot boarders? I never see any boarders.

  _Enter_ SAMP L. CASE, C., _with grip_.

CASE. Is this a hotel?

HANS. Does id look like a livery stable?

CASE. Not exactly; but you look something like a brewery. I want a room.

HANS. Dot’s all right; register right here.

  (_Offers pen, etc._)

CASE. Register? I haven’t paid my poll tax yet.

HANS. As long as you pay your bill here, I don’t care. Wrote id down
here. (CASE _writes_. HANS _looks at signature_.) Samp L. Case, vot’s
in er name?

CASE (_picking up grip_). Nothing in this one.

HANS. Den you pays in advance, blease.

CASE. In advance; why?

HANS. Didn’t you say dere vas noding in der case?

  (_Points to grip._)

CASE. Oh, I meant in the name. This grip is full.

HANS. Full of vot?

CASE. Full of cough.

HANS. Den cough up.

CASE. But see here, are you going to give me a bath, too?

HANS. You take the bath yourself. Gretch----

GRETCH. Yah. I bane here.

HANS. Show der gentlemens to room 66.

GRETCH. Yah.

  [_Exit_, R. 1 E.

  _Enter_ ANTONIO BOOTLASHOESA MORECHEESA, D. C.

TONY. ’At’s da madda?

HANS. Br-br-r-r. Vot you vant?

TONY. Dees-a--dees-a----

HANS. No, diss is der tohel--I mean hotel. Vot’s your name?

TONY. ’At’s da madda?

CASE. The old gent don’t understand. What’s your name?

TONY. Antonio Bootlashoesa Morecheesa.

HANS. Got in himmel, he gifs us his family history.

CASE (_to_ TONY). Now, wait, don’t say it so fast. The old gent here,
he is the proprietor, you know.

HANS. No, I don’t. I owns der blace.

CASE. Well, you see, he owns the hotel. He wants your name right. Tell
him slow.

TONY. Antonio.

CASE (_writing_). Now wait till I get that. All right.

TONY. Bootlashoesa.

CASE. Who? What the ding ding?

TONY. Bootlashoesa.

CASE. Oh, I see. Boots and shoes. (_Writes._) All right.

TONY. Morecheesa.

CASE (_aside_). You look like a cheese, too.

HANS. Ach du lieber, vot a name.

CASE. Say, suppose we call you Tony Cheese for short?

TONY. Al-a-right. Al-a-same ting.

HANS. Vell, vot iss id you vas looking for?

TONY. Ma brudder Morechessi.

HANS. Your brudder’s a cheese, too? (TONY _nods_.) Vere he lifs?

TONY (_naming local street with car line of the same name_).
Tree-a-six-ateen ---- (_name street_).

HANS. You can’t find him?

TONY. Shure. I see ma brudder’s house mark-a tree-a-six-ateen. One-a
man on-a front, one man on-a back. Son-a-ma gum, firs’ ting I-a know,
da house move off. I tell-a heem, meester, meester, stop-a queek-a, ma
brudda’s house run away.

CASE (_laughing_). Didn’t you know that was a street car?

TONY. Street car? Leesten. I came-a here by-a da train. Dees-a train
gotta a green-a flag on da back. What’s a mean da green flag?

CASE. Well, that means there’s another one coming right behind.

  _Enter_ GRETCH, _carrying baby wearing green
  cap. Crosses stage and exits._

TONY (_pointing to baby_). Look-a, meester. Leetla baba gotta green
cap. Meen-a all same ting like-a train?

HANS. You vant id a room here?

TONY. In-a dees place?

HANS. In diss hotel, iff you blease.

CASE. Give him a suite of rooms.

HANS (_bewildered_). Sweet rooms?

CASE. That’s what I said.

HANS (_undertone to_ CASE). Subbose I put der floor mit molasses?

  _Enter_ GRETCH, D. C.

GRETCH. Fader, dere iss id a letter for you. I bane tink it iss goot
news.

HANS (_taking letter_). Goot news? I bet diss hotel to a beanut dot
id iss anodder bill. (_Opens letter and reads._) Hooray, Gretch, look
vot id iss. (_Reads from letter._) “Hotel ‘On-de-Blink’: Gents, der
Gount de Slob iss draveling in-cog, und vill stop at your hotel. Blease
commoderate him.” (_Lays letter on desk._) I vant to ask you someding.

CASE. All right. Fire away.

HANS. Vot kind of a machine iss dot in-cog?

CASE. Machine?

HANS. Yah; dot letter says he iss draveling in-cog. Don’t dot iss id a
machine?

CASE. No, no. That means that he is in disguise.

HANS. Oh, ho, den dere iss no cogs, eh? (_Enter_ RUSTY RUFFLES
_unobserved by others and reads letter, pantomiming that the idea
of impersonating the count has occurred to him. Exits_, D. C. HANS,
_during above action by_ RUFF.) Here you, Dony Bootchee.

TONY. ’At’s da madda?

HANS. How’s your fadder?

  (TONY _looks bewildered_.)

CASE (_to_ TONY). He means how is the old man? The big boot--your
relation.

TONY. Aha, yes, I’m related to him by er--what--you call marriage.

CASE. Are you married, Tony?

TONY. Yes. I’m-a married.

CASE. Any children?

TONY. ’At’s a dat?

CASE. Any little boots running around?

TONY. No, no boots, no boots. (_Pause._) Shoes.

CASE. Oh, I see; all little. All living?

TONY. No, buried one alive.

CASE. Buried one alive? Lord, that’s terrible.

HANS. Vell, id iss no joke to be buried dead either.

  (_Song_--TONY.)

  _Enter_ WEBER FIELDS, _followed by_ RUFF.

WEBER. Right dis-a-way, Count, right dis-a-way. (HANS _makes a dash to
get behind counter as_ RUFF. _enters pompously_.) I reckon dis is de
place. (_Turns to_ HANS.) Is diss de Hotel “On-de-Blink”?

HANS. Yah, you iss id correct.

WEBER (_aside_). Dat’s what hit looks like. (_To_ HANS.) Well, dis yer
is de Count de Slob. (_Aside._) As no ’count as dey come.

  (HANS _and_ RUFF. _bow low to each other_.)

RUFF. Delighted.

HANS. Gentlemen, diss iss id der Gount de Slob. (CASE _and_ TONY _give_
RUFF. _disgusted looks_.) Der gentlemens has came a long vay. A long
chourney. Iss diss (_pointing to_ WEBER) your vallet?

RUFF. Yes, sir; dat’s me valet.

WEBER (_aside_). En de hungriest nigger yo’ ever seed.

RUFF. Yes, gentlemen, we have just came from Alaska.

WEBER (_aside_). I hope dey don’t asks where it is.

HANS. Ach, dot moost be cold up dere, don’t id?

RUFF. Everything frozen.

WEBER. Not everything.

RUFF. Everything, I said. I’d like to know what you ever saw that would
not freeze?

WEBER. Hot water.

CASE (_reading paper_). Landlord, I see here a notice that John Smith
had died and was buried yesterday. What John Smith was that?

WEBER. De one in de hearse.

HANS. Yah, I vent by der funeral too. Everyding vas vite. Vite goffin,
vite hearse, und all der drimmings.

CASE. Sure, white is the color of purity. It is also the color of
beauty.

RUFF. Of course; dat’s why all brides dress in white. White! Why, man,
dat is de color of joy. Ain’t her weddin’ de mostest joyous occasion of
a woman’s life?

WEBER. Aha; dat’s why all de grooms dress in black.

RUFF. Do you know that a terrible thing happened to me last week
one night? I was making a strategic retreat from a dance. I had the
misfortune to rip my trousers. Just as I was going round the corner I
see a sign in a tailor’s window. It read: Reveal yourself through your
clothes.

WEBER. Did you go back to the dance?

CASE. Talking about women, we’ve got them beat all hollow. They have no
pockets to put their hands in.

HANS. Say, you vasn’t married, vas you?

BELL HOP (_entering_ R. 1 E.). Sir, Miss Gotrox reports that the
keyhole in her door is broken.

HANS. Tell her I vill look into it to-night.

HOP. Yes, sir.

  [_Exit_, R. 1 E.

RUFF. Landlord, I would like some nice roast beef.

HANS. Ve are yoost oud of roast beef, Gount, bot ve haf id some nice
bork.

RUFF. No; no pork, thank you.

WEBER (_aside_). No, he’s been on de hog long enuf.

RUFF. Landlord, how about some fine fruit? By the way, in Seattle, last
week, I ate some fine fruit that was delicious. I don’t remember its
name, but it begins with “K.”

TONY. Carrots?

HANS. Ach himmel, don’t you know dot carrots begins mit “Q”?

CASE. Was it crabapples?

HANS. Vot’s der matter mit you? Crabapples is a fish.

WEBER. War hit ketchup?

RUFF. Catsup, my boy, is a desert.

HANS. I bet id vas krapes.

RUFF. Right you are, old top, right you are.

CASE. Grapes don’t begin with “K.”

HANS. Sure id iss. (_Spells._) K-P-W-kerfluie.

RUFF. (_slapping_ CASE _on the back_). Aha, my boy. That got your goat.

WEBER. Got hisn goat is right. The goat is de most wunnerful insect
dat swims on de land. It comes in fifty-seven varieties. Angora goats,
Irish goats, goat-tees, lodge goats, political goats, and others.

  (_Song by_ WEBER.)

HOP (_entering_ R. 1 E.). The cook is complaining that you paid him off
with dirty money. He says that he wants clean money.

HANS. Yah, for vy?

HOP. Well, he says he doesn’t want any microbes on his salary.

HANS. Go tell him a microbe couldn’t live on his salary.

    [_Exit_ HOP, R. 1 E.

WEBER. Say, Tony, dat’s a beautiful fitting suit you have on.

TONY. ’At’s da madda? Dees-a suit made by-a London tailor.

WEBER. I thought so. Those London tailors couldn’t make a coat of paint
fit a hen-coop.

HOP (_coming to door excitedly_). Sir, there’s a big accident down at
the corner.

HANS. Yah? Vass iss?

HOP. An aviator killed a cow. (_Runs off._)

RUFF. (_as all start to run off_). Hold on, gentlemen. What’s the use
of going? The aviator is not guilty.

CASE. Of course he is.

RUFF. No, no. I’ll bet my eye-tooth against a square meal that the cow
failed to blow her horn.

TONY (_to_ WEBER, _who has posed rather sullenly_). ’At’s da madda?

WEBER (_stepping over_ CASE’S _grip_). I’se jes’ gittin’ over de grip.
No, I’ll tell you. Ma gal’s daddy give her an automobile.

CASE. Well, what’s that got to do with your being sick?

WEBER. Well, dat gal jes’ loves dat machine to deaf; she ain’t got no
time fer me.

RUFF. Gentlemen, there’s another instance where man is being replaced
by machine.

CASE. Man is little more than a monkey, anyhow.

HANS. Yah? Und how’s dot?

CASE. Haven’t you read Darwin’s work?

WEBER (_aside_). No, but I’ve seen ma jaws work.

RUFF. No, sir, I’ve never read anything but Scott’s Emulsion.

CASE. Well, Darwin is the man who tried to prove that man is descended
from a monkey.

RUFF. (_looking intently first at one then the other_). Take Tony here
for instance. Do you think he is descended from a monkey?

WEBER. What’s de matter wif you? He never knew Tony’s parents.

  (_Song by_ CASE.)

HOP (_heard reciting off_ D. L.).
    Mary had some chewing gum,
    She chewed it loud and slow;
    And everywhere that Mary went
    That gum was sure to go.

CASE. That boy is some poet.

WEBER. He didn’t finish.

CASE. Didn’t he?

WEBER. No, listen. (_Recites._)
    It followed her to school one day,
    Which was against the rule,
    The teacher took it away from her,
    And chewed hit after school.

HANS. Gentlemens, don’t forgot dot ve turns off der gas in diss hotel
at ten o’clock.

WEBER. Dat’s what ma intended father-in-law tole me.

CASE. Told you what?

WEBER. Dat he war goin’ to turn off de gas at ten o’clock.

CASE. That means that you leave at ten o’clock after this.

WEBER. No, sir. Hit means that after this I calls at ten o’clock.

RUFF. That’s a poor excuse, don’t you think?

WEBER. Hit’s as good as the ---- (_name local police_).

CASE. Didn’t I hear you say that you were going to be married, Count?

RUFF. You did.

CASE. Is the engagement broken?

RUFF. It is.

CASE. Did you break it?

RUFF. No.

CASE. The girl?

RUFF. No.

HANS. Then who did?

WEBER. Nobody. One night his gal tole him about de cost ob some ob her
gowns. De engagement jes’ sagged in de middle.

CASE. Why, you shouldn’t have gotten afraid of talk.

RUFF. No? Why?

CASE. Well, before I was married, my wife talked the same way. But
now,--why, man, you never saw a more economical woman. She doesn’t
waste a thing.

RUFF. Is that so?

CASE. Why, sir, if it’s edible, she uses it in hash; if it isn’t, she
uses it for hat trimmings.

HANS. Dot’s a goot voman; do you remember her birthdays?

CASE. Sure; the day before she puts a bunch of forget-me-nots by my
plate.

RUFF. Landlord, how about something to drink?

HANS. Yah, I got id some vitagraph vine.

CASE. Why do you call it vitagraph wine?

HANS. Ober ven you drink it, you see moving bictures.

WEBER. I bet dat’s what made you drunk the other day.

HANS. I vas nod drunk.

WEBER. Of course you were.

HANS. I say I vas nod.

WEBER. Will you swear dat you were nod drunk?

HANS. Sure I vill.

WEBER. Hold up your right hand. (HANS _holds up his left_.) I said your
right hand.

HANS. Vell, my right hand is on my left hand side.

HOP (_entering_). Sir, you have ordered “gold” soup for dinner. The
cook wants to know how to make it. What he shall put into it?

HANS. Fourteen carrots.

  [_Exit_ HOP.

  (_Song by_ RUFF. _During song_
  WEBER _turns up wick of oil lamp that has been
  burning on counter until it smokes freely._)

CASE. Landlord, how old is that lamp you have on the counter?

HANS. Den years.

RUFF. Well, put it out, landlord, it’s too young to smoke.

  (HANS _blows over the top so hard that_ TONY’S
  _hat blows off_.)

TONY (_recovering hat_). ’At’s da madda? Man-a gotta plenty puff.

CASE. Plenty puff?

TONY. Yes-a plenty puff. Shoota plenty wind.

RUFF. “Vox preterea nihil.”

CASE. What’s that?

WEBER. All hot air.

HANS. Ach, dot hot air minds me of dose Durks in swimmin’.

CASE. Turks in swimming? You mean a Turkish bath?

HANS. Yah, ach mine lieber gott. I had von once. De day I landed.

WEBER. Tell us about it.

HANS. You see, I yoost landed from der boat off. Der first ting a
fellow handed me a card und I don’t know somedings yet, so I gif me
dot card to a boliceman. He tells a schmall poy to come mit me und ve
goes by dot blace on der card. Ach, a man dakes der card und shoves me
inside. Anudder fellow tell me to remove mine clothes. Ven I gets dem
off he shoves me into a room und--ach du lieber--I puts me mine foot
on der floor und you bet I yump. I put me mine hand on der vall und
ach, such a hotness. In a few minutes a fellow shouts by der door in:
“Vas you sweating?” Ach himmel, vas I sweating? Ach himmel, I bet if
I don’t get out purty kervick I drip oud by der drain bipe. I feel I
yoost like a sdreet sprinkler. Den dot fellow comes in und rubs me down
mit a currycomb. Ven he had all der skin scrabed off, he says: “Are
you purty veil done?” I told him I don’t know, take a fork und turn me
over on der odder side. Den, oh, chee--he shoves me into a dank of ice
varter. (_Shivers._) Dot vas den year ago, und every time I dink about
id I get der shakes.

  (_Closing song by_ HANS.)

  CURTAIN


SCENE II.--_Same as in Scene I._

    (_Discover seated about stage all members thereon when first
    part closed and in same positions._)

HOP (_entering_ D. L.). Schultz, room fifty-nine says send him a
pousse-café and charge it.

HANS. Go back und tell him ve don’t charge anything but storage
batteries.

  [_Exit_ HOP.

RUFF. Landlord, where’s that fine little kitten you had the last time I
was here?

HANS. Vell--she----

RUFF. I hope you didn’t poison her?

HANS. No, you see she----

CASE. Was she drowned?

HANS. No--she----

TONY. Somebody make-a steal?

HANS. No, you see----

WEBER. Well, what de debil happened to her?

HANS. Vy, she growed into a cat.

WEBER. Dat’s jes’ de trouble wif women.

CASE. Do they grow into cats?

TONY. ’At’s da madda? You talk-a about da lady?

WEBER. Well, firs’ dey is jes’ spring chickens, den dey’s suffragettes,
den dey’s get to be ole hens.

TONY. You no like-a suffamayettes?

WEBER. I should say not.

CASE. Why are you so set against suffragettes?

WEBER. Why, man, women ain’t got the intellectual habilitation ter hash
up de political problems ob state. Even we men don’t know what we’re
talkin’ ’bout half de time when we’s discussin’ politics.

RUFF. Whoopee, you shure is got some co-loboratory of words. I wonder
if you could tell us de longest sentence in de English language? It
contains about one hundred and forty words.

WEBER. No, sir, dat’s wrong.

CASE. How many words does it contain?

WEBER. Only one.

HANS. Only von? Iss id dot you means to tell us dot der longest
sentence of der language has only von vord in id?

WEBER. I mean to expostulate dat de longest sentence in de world has
only one word therein it.

CASE. And what’s that?

WEBER. Life.

  _Enter_ MISS GOTROX _and_ GRETCH, L. 1 E.

HANS (_smiling and bowing_). Aha, Miss Gotrox, you iss all dressed up
now already yet.

MISS G. Yes; do I look nice enough to go promenading?

HANS. Ach, yes, I bane like you all in vite. Vite hat, vite dress--vite
shoes, vite sdockings.

GRETCH. I bane tink mosquitoes vould nod bite a lady ven she haf vite
sdockings on.

CASE. You don’t think so, why?

HANS. Pecause all der mosquitoes ve haf around here iss gentlemens.

GRETCH. You bane going to der lecture, Miss Gotrox?

MISS G. What lecture?

GRETCH. At der church. I bane tink der man iss going to sbeak on der
subject of “Favorite Hymns.”

MISS G. “Favorite Hymns”? Well, I’m not going to the lecture, but I’m
hoping to meet _my_ favorite him this evening.

RUFF. Aha, there’s where two is company.

WEBER. And three’s a crowd.

HANS. Ach, doss iss nicht recht. Dwo is matrimony, dree iss alimony.

CASE. You seem very much in love with the love man.

MISS G. I am----

CASE. Is he bashful, or is he--fast?

HANS. He ain’t fast mit his creditors.

  (_Song._)

RUFF. Are you going to marry the young man you spoke of, Miss Gotrox?

MISS G. If I can make him propose.

HANS. You vass tinking of matrimony, den?

MISS G. Yes.

RUFF. Have you had any experience with children?

WEBER. What a foolish question. Wasn’t she a child once herself?

CASE. Has the young man any accomplishments?

MISS G. Well, he plays the piano very well.

GRETCH. I bane tink if dot biano could dalk, it vould say: You haf
blayed me false.

HANS. Gretch, you should nod sbeak dot way to Miss Gotrox. She iss a
beautiful lady, und voman iss a great creation. Vy--man has taken a
voman’s head to decorate our coin.

CASE. Yes, and the milliner has taken quite a few of my coins to
decorate a certain woman’s head.

MISS G. Landlord, where is the nearest candy shop?

HANS (_thinking_). Er--er--middle in der block.

CASE. Say, landlord, there’s a hotel man down in New Orleans by the
name of Seitz. Do you know him?

HANS. Might I do. Vot’s his name?

GRETCH. I bane tink you use very little bowder, Miss Gotrox.

MISS G. Why--yes, I do. But still I do use a little powder and cream.

CASE. That’s strange.

MISS G. What’s strange?

CASE. That you use very little.

RUFF. What? Why, it seems to me that woman would sooner hear about the
discovery of a new complexion cream than to learn of the invention of a
torpedo-proof battle-ship.

MISS G. Why, certainly. When this world comes to its senses,
battle-ships will not be needed, but a good complexion will be more in
demand than ever.

CASE. That may be true, but a sensible man would sooner have a woman
just as nature meant her to be, without all that paint and powder.

MISS G. Yes, but there seems to be very few sensible men. There is art
in a good complexion.

CASE. And what art rivals nature? A little powder may change a
complexion, but what art equals nature in her many changes? Take a
waterfall for instance; how beautiful nature has made it, and then
along comes winter and changes it into ice. What a remarkable change
takes place.

WEBER (_sighing_). Ah me, dat’s right:--

    When water is changed into ice,
    Note de remarkable change in price.

RUFF. You shouldn’t mind dat pessimist, Miss Gotrox; he is always down
in de mouth.

MISS G. You shouldn’t be that way. When you feel down in the mouth,
think of Jonah; he came out all right.

CASE. Miss Gotrox, what do you think Jonah thought when he found
himself inside the whale?

WEBER (_interrupting_). I bet he thought he went to sleep inside a
foldin’ bed en she closed up.

TONY. ’At’s da madda you? You make-a fuss all-a time. You make-a fuss
you no gotta fuss-a fuss about.

CASE. That’s what I say, Tony. (_To_ WEBER.) How do you think men live
in a submarine?

HANS. Yah--dot’s right; yoost tink of all der varter around dem. I bet
many of dem dies vrom humidity.

RUFF. (_not comprehending_). Humidity? Why--er--I thought de papers
said it was from dyspepsia.

MISS G. (_she had been looking outside_). I would like to go down town,
but all the cars seem jammed. I wonder what makes them so crowded this
evening.

WEBER. Beggin’ your pardon, Miss, but I reckon hit’s de number ob
passengers dey’s carryin’.

  (_Song._)

  _Enter_ ARCHIBALD NUTT.

NUTT. Oh, Miss Gotrox, how delightfully lovely you look this eve.

WEBER (_business of fainting, etc._). Oh, Elizabeth, the cook stewed
the cat.

MISS G. Why, Archie, I’m so glad to see you. How’s mother?

NUTT. Why, I’m angry at my mother.

MISS G. Angry at your mother? How terrible. Why so?

NUTT. Why, mother wants me to come in at eight o’clock, and I’ll do
nothing of the kind.

MISS G. You won’t?

NUTT. No, I’ll come in at five minutes past eight.

MISS G. Oh, you shouldn’t be so naughty.

NUTT. Yes, I will--be very naughty. I’ll go out with the boys and I’ll
smoke cigarettes and I’ll use cuss words.

MISS G. Oh, Archie, be careful. Remember you’re in my company, and here
is Mr. Case. I’m sure he doesn’t use naughty words.

 NUTT. Well (_pleasantly_), if it will relieve you, Miss Gotrox, I’ll
promise not to teach him any. (_Others give_ CASE _the laugh_. NUTT,
_haughtily_.) Well, what are you laughing at, me?

RUFF. Why, no, Genevieve.

NUTT. Then what else is there around here to laugh at?

MISS G. Archie, I’m sure they would not laugh at you if they knew you
were a historian.

CASE. Are you a historian?

NUTT (_smiling_). Uh-huh.

CASE. Well, there’s something I have been trying to find out for a long
time. Maybe you can tell me. What was Washington’s Farewell Address?

WEBER. Heaven.

NUTT (_screaming_). Oh, you vulgar thing!

WEBER. Vulgar? I thought that was well done.

HANS. Yah, I bane tink dot vass doo vell done.

CASE. That’s going a little too far.

MISS G. Why, don’t you believe in doing all things well?

CASE. Most assuredly.

RUFF. Suppose you set out to make a fool of yourself?

  (_Pause._)

NUTT. Oh, Weber, I’ve heard that your girl has a new auto.

WEBER. Did yuh?

NUTT. Uh-huh. Who drives it?

RUFF. Nobody; dey coaxes it.

NUTT (_to_ MISS G.). Do you know that Weber’s intended father-in-law is
the funniest little man you ever saw?

MISS G. Is that possible?

NUTT. And he has only one eye, too.

WEBER. Say, talkin’ ’bout dat ole man. De odder day I had him out wif
me an’ I los’ him in de crowd. I went up to a policeman and I axes him:
“Hofficer, I’m looking for a little man wif one eye.” What do you think
dat ole fool tole me? He said: “Mose, if he’s so small, why don’t you
use two eyes?”

HOP (_entering_ L. 1 E.). Sir, a gentleman in the dining-room sends his
compliments and says the steak he is eating is the first tender steak
he has ever eaten here.

HANS. Ach himmel--dot feller got mine steak.

    [_Exit_ HOP.

TONY (_who has been reading paper_). Look-a dees. (_Puzzled._) ’At’s a
man-o’-war-ship?

CASE. Why, a cruiser.

TONY. ’At makes her go?

RUFF. Its screw, sir.

TONY (_bewildered_). Who-a goes along?

NUTT. Why, its crew, sir.

  (TONY, _dumfounded, resumes his seat_.)

MISS G. I think I’ll be going. Archie, will you be walking with me?

NUTT. Most assuredly.

    [_Exeunt._

GRETCH. I bane tink he dance mit her, doo.

CASE. Does he really dance?

WEBER. Dance? You ought to see dat feller do de Induction Coil.

  (_Song._)

  _Enter_ NUTT, _excitedly_.

NUTT (_out of breath_). Oh, goodness me, I’ve had a terrible
experience. Oh, my!

HANS. Vot’s der madder? You bane scared?

NUTT. Scared? Oh, gracious, I’m frightened most to death. I was walking
down the street with Miss Gotrox, when who did I see coming toward us
but my sweetheart. Oh, my!

RUFF. (_doubtfully_). A girl in love with you? (_To_ WEBER, _aside_.)
What must she think of him?

WEBER. Nothing; she thinks for him.

NUTT. Why, I’ve got the sweetest, dearest, prettiest girl in the world.

CASE. What does she look like?

NUTT. Look like? She’s a perfect creation. (_With sentiment._) The
Great Creator formed all other women first so that He’d have the thing
down to perfection when He came to her. From the dark stillness of the
forest He took her eyes, hiding in each the twinkle of a star. From
the gloomy wings of the raven He took her hair, and the beautiful tint
of her cheek He took from the wild-flowers. Her teeth He took from the
white snows of winter, and her lips are like the roses of the east that
the west never saw. Her swiftness and grace He took from the antelope.
Nobility from the eagle, and gentleness He took from the dove. Her
smile He took from the sunrise. That is why her smile brings light and
joy into my gloomy heart.

WEBER. Dat’s jes’ de way He made my gal, but jes’ as He war finishin’
de job He drap her into de ink pot.

NUTT (_screaming_). Oh, how ridiculous. I’ll not stay another minute in
your company.

    [_Exit_, D. C., _haughtily_.

CASE. He sure is smart all right.

RUFF. Smart? Why, dat’s hisn interleck. He’s more interleck den brains,
en if he keeps on he’s goin’ ter be all interleck.

WEBER. Say, I’se been tryin’ ter learn de alphabet. What comes after
“G”?

RUFF. Whiz.

HANS (_tapping bell; enter_ HOP). Here, boy, here’s some good
instructions on “How to run a hotel.” Please see that they are carried
out.

  (HOP _places them carefully in the waste-basket and
  carries all out_ D. C.)

CASE. Landlord, I have here a note for $5,000; will you endorse it?

HANS. Endorse it?

CASE. Yes, sign your name on the back of it?

HANS. Sure I vill. I know you’ll never pay it, so here’s vere ve haf a
laugh at der bank’s expense. (_Signs paper._)

RUFF. See here, nigger, dat travelin’ salesman’s job looks like an
uplift to me.

WEBER. Looks more like a hold-up.

CASE (_turning away from desk_). Landlord, I saw, as I was coming into
the hotel, what must have been a fine vegetable garden alongside of the
hotel. Were you successful with it?

HANS. Successful? Yah, I bane tink so. My neighbor’s hens dook first
prize at der boultry show.

CASE. Well, that’s a trick of the trade.

RUFF. (_pointing to Hans_). His trade is full of tricks.

HANS. Iss dot so? For vy you say dot?

RUFF. Aw, don’t I know all about de tricks of your trade? Do you think
I’ve been living in hotels all my life for nothing?

WEBER. I wouldn’t doubt it.

HOP (_entering_ R. 1 E.). Sir, the cook wants to know if he should cook
your Welsh rarebit?

HANS. Might he could.

  [_Exit_ HOP.

GRETCH (_going after boy_). Here, vait. I bane tink I vant der left
hind foot of dot rabbit.

  [_Exit after_ HOP.

CASE. That boy of yours is surely smart.

HANS. You bane tink so? I bane teach him everyting I know, und he’s
still an ignorant fool.

  (_Song. After song_ TONY, _reading paper, begins to cry_.)

RUFF. Every time he hears me sing, he starts crying.

WEBER. He ought to put cotton in his ears.

HANS. Vot’s der madder mit you? For vy you make me dose tears in der
face?

TONY. Meester (_sobbing_)--Meester (_sobbing_) Rockefeller, hee’s dead.

RUFF. What’s dat got to do wif you? You ain’t any relation to him.

TONY. Dat’s-a make-a me cry. (_Sobs._)

CASE. Aw, say, are you all going to be pessimists? Wake up your
optimism, why don’t you? Don’t you know that an optimist doesn’t care
what happens?

WEBER. So long as hit don’t happen to him.

RUFF. Say, that statement was pretty smooth, Mr. Case.

CASE. Well, you have to be smooth to get on top these days.

HANS. Und you get smooth on top getting there.

WEBER. If yo’ don’t put a check to dat interleck of yours, Mr.
Landlord, you’ll be gettin’ concussion ob de brain.

TONY. ’At’s-a mean dat concussion you?

RUFF. Well, you see----

WEBER (_to_ RUFF.). Say, does you know anything ’bout de symptoms of
concussion ob de brain?

RUFF. Why--er--yes.

WEBER. Well, if me en Mr. Case war ter bang our heads together, would
we git concussion ob de brain?

RUFF. (_looking from one to the other_). Mr. Case might.

WEBER (_insulted_). You’re not very much of a Christian.

RUFF. Why?

WEBER. Well, ’cause you fabricates.

RUFF. Me tell lies? Nothing. I’d ruther be er Christian den to lie or
be a heathen.

CASE. Why would you sooner be a Christian than a heathen?

RUFF. ’Cause--over the Christian the Great Lord watches.

WEBER. Yeh?--Is dat so?--Well, over de heathen Ingersol watches.

CASE. But Weber, you don’t understand that a Christian has a reward an’
a crown of glory.

WEBER. Is dat so? How big is de reward?

CASE. Well, that depends on how good a feller has been.

WEBER. Den who does yo’ s’pose is gwine ter git de biggest crown?

RUFF. Him what’s got de biggest head.

HOP (_entering_ L. 1 E.). Sir, a gentleman just walked out and refused
to pay his lunch check.

HANS. For vy?

HOP. Well, he ordered three eggs from the waiter and wanted them four
minutes boiled.

HANS. Den vot?

HOP. There was only one egg in the house, and the cook boiled it twelve
minutes.

HANS. Dot shows der value of higher edumacation.

  [_Exit_ HOP.

CASE. That customer didn’t display very much gratitude.

WEBER. Gratitude? What’s dat?

RUFF. You don’t know what gratitude is?

WEBER. Nope.

HANS. Vy, even a cow has gratitude.

WEBER. Den I don’t want it.

RUFF. Well, listen. I’ll explain just what gratitude is. You remember
when we was coming erlong de road in my limousine?

WEBER (_amused_). Yep.

RUFF. You remember one day when we stopped for lunch, we heard a
moaning longside of de road? ’Member dat I found a covered basket in de
bushes, and on opening it there lay a real live pickaninny?

WEBER. Yep, a sho’ nuf black one.

RUFF. Yes. Well, remember that it was very cold that day, and I took
off my great fur-lined coat and lifting the little pickaninny out of
the basket laid it into the warm folds of my coat and covered it over.
Then when he got quite warm and comfortable, in the deepest sense of
gratitude the little feller looked up at me and said----

WEBER. Papa.

  CURTAIN




COMEDY SKETCHES

_By Julian Sturgis_

A collection of short plays suited for amateur theatricals or
high-class vaudeville, easy to produce and of high quality. Recommended
especially for parlor performance.

CONTENTS

  APPLES. One male, one female.
  FIRE FLIES. One male, one female.
  HEATHER. One male, one female.
  PICKING UP THE PIECES. One male, one female.
  HALF-WAY TO ARCADY. One male, one female.
  MABEL’S HOLY DAY. Two males, one female.

Twenty minutes each.

_Price, 25 cents_


IN OFFICE HOURS

And Other Sketches

_By Evelyn Greenleaf Sutherland_

CONTENTS

    IN OFFICE HOURS. Comedy Sketch in One Act, five males, four
    females.

    A QUILTING PARTY IN THE THIRTIES. Outline Sketch for Music, six
    males, four females, and chorus.

    IN AUNT CHLOE’S CABIN. Negro Comedy Sketch in One Act,
    seventeen female characters and “supers.”

    THE STORY OF A FAMOUS WEDDING. Outline Sketch for Music and
    Dancing, six males, four females.

_Price, 25 cents_


THE SOUP TUREEN

And Other Duologues

A collection of short plays for two and three characters. Good quality,
high tone and confidently offered to the best taste.

CONTENTS

  THE SOUP TUREEN. One male, two females.
  LELIA. One male, one female.
  THE UNLUCKY STAR. Two males.
  THE SERENADE. Two females.

Play twenty minutes each.

_Price, 25 cents_


HOLIDAY DIALOGUES FROM DICKENS

_Arranged by W. E. Fette_

Comprising selections from “The Christmas Carol,” “The Cricket on the
Hearth,” “The Battle of Life,” etc., arranged in a series of scenes to
be given either singly or together, as an extended entertainment. For
the celebration of Christmas no better material can be found.

_Price, 25 cents_


THE SUFFRAGETTES’ CONVENTION

An Entertainment in One Scene

_By Jessie A. Kelley_

One male, twelve females. Costumes, modern and eccentric; scenery,
unimportant. Plays an hour and a quarter. Another of Mrs. Kelley’s
popular assemblages of the floating humor of the Suffragette question.
Just a string of humorous lines and characters and local hits aimed to
raise a hearty laugh without hurting anybody’s feelings. Suited for
women’s clubs and for general use in private theatricals.

    _Price, 25 cents_

CHARACTERS

  MRS. JOHN YATES, _presiding officer_.
  MRS. SILAS CURTIS, _suffragette speaker_.
  MRS. EBEN ALTMAN, _suffragette speaker_.
  MRS. ELDON KEENER, _anti-suffragette_.
  MRS. OSCAR DAYTON, _anti-suffragette_.
  MRS. JONAS HARDING, _anti-suffragette_.
  MISS ROSABELLE HYACINTH, _engaged_.
  MISS PRISCILLA PRUDENCE, _would like to be engaged_.
  MISS ANNA HELDER, _great on style_.
  MRS. CHARLES BATES, _anti-suffragette_.
  MRS. RUSSELL SAGER, _suffragette_.
  MRS. FRANCIS WOOD, _suffragette_.
  SILAS CURTIS, _who becomes an ardent advocate of woman suffrage_.


THE QUEEN OF HEARTS

A High School Comedy in One Act

_By Gladys Ruth Bridgham_

Three males, three females. Costumes, modern; scenery, a single
interior. Plays one hour. Three seminary girls go to the masquerade on
the sly, get mixed up there with some students and have a narrow escape
from detection. Their later anxieties are complicated by the fact that
they discover that one of the younger members of their own faculty was
also there; but this later suggests a plan by which they escape. Very
bright and breezy and full of fun and action.

  _Price, 15 cents_


LOOK OUT FOR PAINT

A Farce Comedy in Three Acts

_By Cornelius Shea_

Five males, four females. Costumes, modern; scenery, one interior and
one exterior. Plays an hour and a half. An elderly maiden, making a
“flash” at a summer boarding-house, runs into a young artist with whom
she has corresponded through a matrimonial bureau. He is an admirer
of the landlady’s daughter and tells her the facts before the lady
has seen him. She induces Roamer, a tramp house-painter, to exchange
identities with his fellow artist with side-splitting results. A
capital piece, full of humor and very easy. Recommended for schools.

  _Price, 25 cents_


WILLOWDALE

A Play in Three Acts by Arthur Lewis Tubbs. Seven males, five
females. Scenery, two easy interiors; costumes, modern. This is a
play of exceptional interest and power. Admirably suited for amateur
performance, all the parts being good. Godfrey is an admirable heavy
part, Joel, Lem and Simon capital character parts, Mis’ Hazey a novel
eccentric bit, and Oleander a part of screaming comedy. Plays two hours
and a quarter.

  _Price, 25 cents_


THE VILLAGE SCHOOL MA’AM

A Play in Three Acts by Arthur Lewis Tubbs. Six males, five females.
Costumes, modern; scenes, an interior and an exterior, or can be
played in two interiors. Plays two hours or more. Combines a strong
sympathetic interest with an abundance of comedy. The parts are
unusually equal in opportunity, are vigorously drawn and easily
actable. No dialect parts, but plenty of variety in the comedy roles
and lots of amusing incident. Can be strongly recommended.

  _Price, 25 cents_


BAR HAVEN

A Comedy in Three Acts by Gordan V. May. Six males, five females.
Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors and an exterior, not
difficult. Plays two hours. An excellent piece, mingling a strongly
serious interest with abundant humor. Offers a great variety of good
parts of nearly equal opportunity. Admirably suited for amateur
performance, and strongly recommended.

  _Price, 25 cents_


DOWN IN MAINE

A Drama in Four Acts by Charles Townsend. Eight male, four female
characters. This play has no villains, no tangled plot nor sentimental
love scenes; yet the climaxes are strong, the action brisk, and the
humor genial, and the characters strongly drawn. Can be played in
any hall; scenery, of the easiest sort. Properties, few and simple;
costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. Strongly recommended.

  _Price, 25 cents_


HIGBEE OF HARVARD

A Comedy Drama in Three Acts by Charles Townsend. Five males, four
females. Modern costumes; scenes, two interiors and an exterior--the
latter may be played as well in an interior, if preferred. Plays a
full evening. A clever, up-to-date piece, well suited for amateur
performance. No small parts; all good. Good plot, full of incident, no
love-making, interest strong and sustained.

  _Price, 15 cents_


HOW JIM MADE GOOD

A Comedy Drama in Four Acts by Charles S. Bird. Seven males, three
females; two male parts can be doubled. Costumes, modern; scenery,
three interiors. Plays two hours. An unusually sympathetic play, well
suited to amateurs. Clean and easy to get up. Recommended to high
schools. All the parts are good.

  _Price, 25 cents_


MERRY MONEY MAKERS

A Collection of Entertainments for Church or Lodge Performance, Adapted
to any Sect or Community

In this volume we have assembled several entertainments calling for
a large number of characters such as are in demand for Church and
Sunday-School performance in order to employ the services of as many of
the children as possible. With these are offered several other popular
pieces, new and old.

  _Price, 25 cents_

CONTENTS

  =Samantha Snodgrass and the Ladies’ Aid.= _10 females._
  =The Annual Picnic of the Muggsville Sunday-School.= _16 males, 24 females._
  =Beresford Benevolent Society.= _1 male, 7 females._
  =The Emigrants’ Party.= _24 males, 10 females._
  =The Last of the Peak Sisters.= _9 males, 7 females._
  =The Rag Doll Party.= _4 males, 10 females._
  =The Summerville Bazar.= _21 males, 31 females._


SHORT PLAYS FOR SMALL PLAYERS

A Collection of Entertainments for Children of All Ages

_By Edith Burrows, Gladys Ruth Bridgham and others_

This volume offers eight entertainments, old and new, intended for the
use of schools and carefully selected to that end. Cleanliness and
dramatic interest have been the chief criteria in selection, but the
effort has also been made, where this could be done without obtruding
it, to embody improving suggestion. The wise youngsters of this
advanced generation scent a “moral” afar off and are prone to repel
its stern advances, but it is always possible to surround the pill of
improvement with a palatable jam of fun.

  _Price, 25 cents_

CONTENTS

  =The Key.= _16 boys, 17 girls._
  =The Children’s Hour.= _7 boys, 12 girls._
  =School Opera.= _5 boys, 3 girls._
  =Jack and the Beanstalk.= _3 boys, 3 girls._
  =Bouquet of Rose Spirits.= _8 boys, 18 girls._
  =Pat’s Excuse.= _1 boy, 1 girl._
  =Grammar School Fun.= _17 boys, 27 girls._
  =A Temperance Frolic.= _3 boys, 2 girls, and chorus._


CLEVER COMEDIES

For Female Characters

A Collection of Selected Entertainments for Ladies Only by Popular
Authors

This collection gives an admirable opportunity to make choice at a
small cost of an entertainment for schools or amateur theatricals. All
the pieces that it contains have been successful as independent books
and are very varied in casts and character.

  _Price, 25 cents_

CONTENTS

  =A Corner in Strait-Jackets.= _8 ladies and 3 children._
  =The Dairy-Maids’ Festival.= _Any number of young ladies._
  =A Daughter-In-Law.= _4 ladies._
  =Eliza’s Bona-Fide Offer.= _4 ladies._
  =Gaffer Grey’s Legacy.= _8 ladies._
  =The Governess.= _3 ladies._
  =The Grecian Bend.= _7 ladies._
  =A Sad Mistake.= _6 ladies and chorus._
  =Slighted Treasures.= _4 ladies._
  =To Meet Mr. Thompson.= _8 ladies._


THE VILLAGE POST-OFFICE

An Entertainment in One Scene by Jessie A. Kelley. Twenty-two males and
twenty females are called for, but one person may take several parts
and some characters may be omitted. The stage is arranged as a country
store and post-office in one. Costumes are rural and funny. Plays a
full evening. Full of “good lines” and comical incident and character.
Strongly recommended for church entertainments or general use; very
wholesome and clean.

  _Price, 25 cents_


MISS FEARLESS & CO.

A Comedy in Three Acts by Belle Marshall Locke. Ten females. Scenery,
two interiors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. A bright
and interesting play full of action and incident. Can be strongly
recommended. All the parts are good. Sarah Jane Lovejoy, Katie O’Connor
and Euphemia Addison are admirable character parts, and Miss Alias and
Miss Alibi, the “silent sisters,” offer a side-splitting novelty.

  _Price, 25 cents_


LUCIA’S LOVER

A Farce in Three Acts by Bertha Currier Porter. Eight females.
Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays an hour and a half.
A bright and graceful piece, light in character, but sympathetic and
amusing. Six contrasted types of girls at boarding-school are shown in
a novel story. Lots of fun, but very refined. Easy to produce and can
be strongly recommended.

  _Price, 25 cents_


A GIRL IN A THOUSAND

A Comedy in Four Acts by Evelyn Gray Whiting. Fourteen females.
Costumes, modern; scenes, three interiors and an exterior. Plays a full
evening. Very strong and sympathetic and of varied interest. Irish
comedy; strong “witch” character; two very lively “kids”; all the parts
good. Effective, easy to produce, and can be strongly recommended as
thoroughly wholesome in tone as well as amusing.

  _Price, 25 cents_


MRS. BRIGGS OF THE POULTRY YARD

A Comedy in Three Acts by Evelyn Gray Whiting. Four males, seven
females. Scene, an interior; costumes, modern. A domestic comedy
looking steadfastly at the “bright side” of human affairs. Mrs. Briggs
is an admirable part, full of original humor and quaint sayings, and
all the characters are full of opportunity. Simply but effectively
constructed, and written with great humor. Plays two hours.

  _Price, 25 cents_


TOMMY’S WIFE

A Farce in Three Acts by Marie J. Warren. Three males, five females.
Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays an hour and a half.
Originally produced by students of Wellesley College. A very original
and entertaining play, distinguished by abundant humor. An unusually
clever piece, strongly recommended.

  _Price, 25 cents_


A FOUL TIP

A Comedy Drama in Three Acts

_By Charles S. Allen_

Seven males, three females. Costumes, modern; scenery, one exterior
scene, not changed. Plays two hours. The safe at Irving’s factory is
robbed and three persons are under suspicion, which finally settles
most strongly on Verne Gale, the hero, who, to protect Hal Irving,
old Irving’s son, whom his sister Nellie loves and whom he believes
to be the real culprit, keeps his mouth shut save for protesting his
own innocence. “Uncle” Tim Purdy is loyal to him and, with the aid of
Pete Adams, the colored pitcher of the Westvale nine, finally discovers
the real culprit. A strong play with unusual strength and variety of
character and abundance of humorous lines and incidents. Very highly
recommended.

  _Price, 25 cents_

CHARACTERS

  TIM PURDY, _postmaster, chief of police and storekeeper at Westvale_.
  HIRAM ROWELL, _the village expressman_.
  OLIVER IRVING, _manufacturer_.
  HAROLD IRVING, _his son_.
  VERNE GALE, _manager of the Westvale nine_.
  POLLARD, _Irving’s bookkeeper_.
  PETE ADAMS, _colored pitcher on the Westvale nine_.
  ALMIRA PURDY, _Tim’s wife_.
  MABEL REMINGTON, _Irving’s stenographer_.
  NELLIE GALE, _Verne’s sister_.
  _Members of the ball team, villagers, etc._


DADDY

A Comedy in Three Acts

_By Lilli Huger Smith_

Four males, four females. Costumes, modern; two easy interiors. Plays
an hour and a half. Mr. Brown exhausts all the resources of science,
including smallpox and diphtheria signs, in an endeavor to keep away
the admirers of his daughter whom he wishes to keep at home. He finally
asks Dr. Chester, who is privately in love with her, to help him to
dissuade her from becoming a trained nurse. The doctor does so by
marrying her himself. Very clever and amusing; full of wit and of high
tone. Strongly recommended.

  _Price, 25 cents_

CHARACTERS

  MR. WREXSON BROWN, _just like his fellow men_.
  TEDDY BROWN, _his son, pursuing football at college_.
  PAUL CHESTER, _a young doctor_.
  THOMPSON, _the Browns’ butler_.
  MRS. WREXSON BROWN, _just like her fellow women_.
  NELLIE BROWN, _her daughter, a débutante_.
  MRS. CHESTER, _Mr. Brown’s sister, pursuing ill-health at home_.
  JANE, _the Browns’ cook_.


A NEW START

A Comedy in Four Acts

_By C. A. Pellanus_

Seven males, two females. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors.
Plays an hour and a half. A very funny play intended for performance by
boys or young men.

CHARACTERS

  MR. W. WRIGHTUP, _alias_          } _a medical_
  DR. PHIL GRAVES, R.S.V.P., P.T.O. } _student._
  MICHAEL SPOWDER, _his servant, from Tipperary_.
  COLONEL AILMENT, _a patient_.
  MISS O’PHEE, _a patient_.
  THOMAS WROTTER, _an ambitious youth_.
  MRS. LANGWIDGE, _his aunt, of British origin_.
  MR. PERCY VEERING, _an attorney_.
  A LABORING MAN.

  _Price, 15 cents_


TOO CLEVER BY HALF

A Comedy in Three Acts

_By C. A. Pellanus_

Six males, two females. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays
an hour and a quarter. Very lively and funny; intended for performance
by boys or young men.

CHARACTERS

  JUDGE SIMEON ADAMS, _a well-to-do, kindly, pompous old bachelor_.
  MISS BURGESS, _his housekeeper. With matrimonial schemes._
  NATHAN DEAN, _the village constable. Fat-witted, and gullible._
  HOWARD FOSTER, _a Pinkerton detective. Too clever by half._
  MONSIEUR GASPARD, _a Chef d’ Orchestre_.
  B. FLAT  } _musicians. Britishers._
  A. SHARP }
  MRS. WORDY, _landlady of the village inn_.

  _Price, 15 cents_


THE FIRST DAY OF THE HOLIDAYS

A Comedy in Four Acts

_By C. A. Pellanus_

Six male characters. Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays an
hour and a half. An exceptionally brisk and humorous piece intended for
male characters only.

CHARACTERS

  PROF. B. WILLDARD, _a naturalist. A short-sighted old man._
  JOB SHIRKER, _a shoemaker. Envious of other men’s success._
  JOSEPH SHIRKER, _his son. A tramp._
  HENRY COPPER, _a police officer and a duffer, born in England_.
  TOM BOUNDER } _schoolboys. Impertinent and full of high spirits._
  JIM BOUNDER }

  _Price, 15 cents_


A REGIMENT OF TWO

A Farcical Comedy in Three Acts by Anthony E. Wills. Six males, four
females. Modern costumes. Scene, an interior, the same for all three
acts. Plays a full evening. A lively, up to-date farce, easy to produce
and full of laughs from beginning to end. All the parts good--no small
ones. German comedy characters for both male and female, and “wild
west” character part and English character comedy. Strongly recommended.

  _Price, 25 cents_


MISS BUZBY’S BOARDERS

A Comedy in Three Acts by Arthur Lewis Tubbs. Five male, six female
characters. Costumes, modern; scenery, two easy interiors. Plays two
hours. In a lighter vein than this writer’s other pieces, but just as
strong, and offers plenty of comedy. All the parts good; four call
for strong acting. Several good character parts and effective heavy
character. Dialogue especially good. A sure hit.

  _Price, 25 cents_


VALLEY FARM

A Drama in Four Acts by Arthur Lewis Tubbs. Six males, six females.
Scenery, two interiors and an exterior. Costumes, modern. An admirable
play for amateurs, very sympathetic in theme, and with lots of good
parts. Hetty is a strong lead, and Perry Deane and Silas great parts;
while Azariah, Lizy Ann Tucker and Verbena are full of fun. Plays a
full evening.

  _Price, 25 cents_


THE MISSING MISS MILLER

A Comedy in Three Acts by Harold A. Clarke. Six males, five females.
Scenery, two interiors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening. A
bright and up-to-date farce comedy of the liveliest type. All the parts
good; full of opportunity for all hands. Easy to produce and strongly
recommended. Good tone; might answer for schools, but is a sure hit for
amateur theatricals. Professional stage rights reserved.

  _Price, 25 cents_


OUT OF TOWN

A Comedy in Three Acts by Bell Elliot Palmer. Three males, five
females. Scene, an interior, the same for all three acts; costumes,
modern. Plays an hour and a half. A clever and interesting comedy,
very easy to produce and recommended for amateur performance. All the
parts good. A safe piece for a fastidious audience, as its theme and
treatment are alike beyond reproach.

  _Price, 25 cents_


GADSBY’S GIRLS

A Farce in Three Acts by Bertha Currier Porter. Five males, four
females. Costumes, modern; scenery, an exterior and an interior. Plays
an hour and a half. An exceptionally bright and vivacious little piece,
full of action. Gadsby’s adventures with the fiancées of three of his
friends are full of interest and fun. All the parts good. Well suited
for high school performance.

  _Price, 25 cents_




A. W. Pinero’s Plays

Price, 50 Cents Each


=MID-CHANNEL= Play in Four Acts. Six males, five females. Costumes,
modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays two and a half hours.

=THE NOTORIOUS MRS. EBBSMITH= Drama in Four Acts. Eight males, five
females. Costumes, modern; scenery, all interiors. Plays a full evening.

=THE PROFLIGATE= Play in Four Acts. Seven males, five females. Scenery,
three interiors, rather elaborate; costumes, modern. Plays a full
evening.

=THE SCHOOLMISTRESS= Farce in Three Acts. Nine males, seven females.
Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full evening.

=THE SECOND MRS. TANQUERAY= Play in Four Acts. Eight males, five
females. Costumes, modern; scenery, three interiors. Plays a full
evening.

=SWEET LAVENDER= Comedy in Three Acts. Seven males, four females.
Scene, a single interior, costumes, modern. Plays a full evening.

=THE THUNDERBOLT= Comedy in Four Acts. Ten males, nine females.
Scenery, three interiors; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening.

=THE TIMES= Comedy in Four Acts. Six males, seven females. Scene, a
single interior; costumes, modern. Plays a full evening.

=THE WEAKER SEX= Comedy in Three Acts. Eight males, eight females.
Costumes, modern; scenery, two interiors. Plays a full evening.

=A WIFE WITHOUT A SMILE= Comedy in Three Acts. Five males, four
females. Costumes, modern; scene, a single interior. Plays a full
evening.


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




The William Warren Edition of Plays

Price, 15 Cents Each


=AS YOU LIKE IT= Comedy in Five Acts. Thirteen males, four females.
Costumes, picturesque; scenery, varied. Plays a full evening.

=CAMILLE= Drama in Five Acts. Nine males, five females. Costumes,
modern; scenery, varied. Plays a full evening.

=INGOMAR= Play in Five Acts. Thirteen males, three females. Scenery
varied; costumes, Greek. Plays a full evening.

=MARY STUART= Tragedy in Five Acts. Thirteen males, four females,
and supernumeraries. Costumes, of the period; scenery, varied and
elaborate. Plays a full evening.

=THE MERCHANT OF VENICE= Comedy in Five Acts. Seventeen males, three
females. Costumes, picturesque; scenery varied. Plays a full evening.

=RICHELIEU= Play in Five Acts. Fifteen males, two females. Scenery
elaborate; costumes of the period. Plays a full evening.

=THE RIVALS= Comedy in Five Acts. Nine males, five females. Scenery
varied; costumes of the period. Plays a full evening.

=SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER= Comedy in Five Acts. Fifteen males, four
females. Scenery varied; costumes of the period. Plays a full evening.

=TWELFTH NIGHT; OR, WHAT YOU WILL= Comedy in Five Acts. Ten males,
three females. Costumes, picturesque; scenery, varied. Plays a full
evening.


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


S. J. PARKHILL & CO., PRINTERS, BOSTON, U.S.A.