“TLL GIVE YOU AN HOUR '10 CLEAR OUT OF THE HOUSK.”-—Page 83. DIALOGUES, NO. 9, NEW “MOREE = BEADL™ A*tTD COMPANY, 98 WILLIAM 8ST. Am. News 0o., 119 & 121 Nassaa St., N, ¥. Hand-books ae Young People. BEADLE AND COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK. RE sch volume 100 12mo. pages, sent ‘post-paid on receipt of price—ten cents each. 1—DIME GENTS’ LETTER- WRITER- Embracing Forms, Models, Suggestions | and Rules for the use of all classes, on all occasions: also a list of Sener — Words and Expressions, together with their correct forms. 2—DIME BOOK OF ETIQUETTE—For Ladies and Gentlemen: bettie a Guide to ‘True Gentility and Good-Breeding, and a Complete Directory to the Usages and nO yservances Of Society. Including entrance into Society, Conversation, ete. as BOOK OF VERSES— Comprising Verses for Valentines, Mottoes, ‘oup- | ets, St. Valentine Verses, Bridal and Marriage Verses, Verses on Births and Infancy, Verses to send with Flowers, Verses of Love and fection, etc. — 4--DIME BOOK OF DREAMS—Thei: Romance and Mystery ; witha complete in- terp-eting Dictionary, Compiled from the most accredite ‘d sources. + 5—DIME FORTUNE-TELLER—Comprising the art of Fortune-Telling by. cards, ; _. by the lines of the Hands, by the Grounds in a ‘Tea or Cofice Cup, how to read ~ your Fortune in the white of an egg, how to read Character, etc. ; — 6-DIME LADIES’ LETTER- WRITER—Giving not only thewarious forms of — Latters of Childaood and School Days, of Love and Friendship, of Society, of Business, etc., bat chapters on the art of Corr respondence, on Punctuation, ete, 7—DIM& LOVERS’ CASKET—A Treatise and Guide to Friendship, Love, Court- | ship and Murei Emb‘acing also _a complete Floral Dictionar Janguage of | the Hindkereiict, ‘Lan guage of the Fan, Cane, Finger Ring, etc. le Riek PASI. ROOM CO¥PANION—And Guide to Dancing. Giving os ; Uette. hints on Private Part toilettes for the Ball-room, ete. Also, , ; a ylonie of Round and Square Dances, Dictionary of French Terms, etc. 9-BOOK OF 100 GAMES—Toeetier with Forfeits and Copundrums, for Social Parties and Home Amusement, Picnic Parties, ete. Say DIME. CHESS INSTRUCTOR—A complete hand-book of iittaction; = giving — albthita bezinner can require to enide him to the entertaining mysteries “ this most interesting and fascinating of games. 11—DIME. BOOK OF CROQUET— A complete guide to the game, with the rites. diazrams, Croquet Dictionary, | Parlor Croquet,’ BECK cvs DIME ROBINSON CRUSOE—In lar », double columns, with numerous illustrations, from ate designs Dy | . White, Soe the bi ot aos 0. one of the best an st London cditions. ee HOOL SERIES—DIALO v= No’s 1 to 11. SPEAKERS, No’s.4 Replet a choive ee . Yt School-room, the “Exhibition lor esh and good, GDUSEREEREES -HAND-BOOKS. ‘DI COOK BOOK Or, the Honsewife’s Companion. Embodying what | y most Economic, Practical, most Excellent, with rea By Mrs. M. V. Victor. $ ilies ME RECIPE 00K—c n union tp! the Dime Cook Book. A Directory for - vy ar] ir Namie Poi Ritch ony Teeter, ete. penal, Patent Recipes, | 4 rMrz. M. V. Victor.” © HOUSEWIFE'S: MANUAL—Or, how to Keep. Hobe, to Dye, ul Renovate; how to Cat, Wit and Make Garments ; how to Cult Me ‘Plants i d Flowers: ‘hh. yw (> care: for Birds a Househo! a Pets, ete By Mrs. V ‘ictor. DIME, FAMILY PHYSICIAN—And Manna! for the Sick Room. Family Diseases and their Treatment: Hints on Nursing and Rearing,C nN vom plaints, how to prepirs Juratives, Roles of ‘Health, ele. 5 4) DIME DRESSMAKER — And Milliner’s Guide. A complete man nal of th of Cutting, F.tting anil making np the Family Wardrobe, éte.-. 4 {a The above bonks are sold by Newsdealers everywhere, oF will-be sent. post- "e id. to? Seman co of price.10 cents each. BE: ‘bite COMPAN’ 8 apnea William Street, New Ricard I : THE DIME:. DIALOGUES NO. 9. A NEW COLLECTION OF CHOICE ORIGINAL COLLOQUIES, ACTING DIALOGUES, MINOR DRAMAS, DEBATES, ETC., FOR SCHOOLS, EXHIBITIONS, PARLORS, ETC., ETC PREPARED EXPRESSLY FOR THIS SERIES. NEW YORK: BEADLE AND COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, = 98 WILLIAM STREET. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1870, by BEADLE AND COMPANY, In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Waeh'ugtoa. CONTENTS. PAGE, ADVERTISING FOR HELP. For a number of females. As per- formed in the Woodward High School. Revised for this work by Prof. Henry St. John, 6 SBT i at ae ica eae AMERICA TO ENGLAND, GREETING. For two boys, with an episode for the whole school. By Dr. Louis Legrand, - THE OLD AND THE NEw. For four femaies and one male. By Miss Lucy A. Sharlette. - - -. - Pet See es CHOICE oF TRADES. For twelve little boys. By Mrs. Mary B. C. Slade. From the “School Festival,’ - - + - = Tue LAP Doa. For two females. By G.S.L., aS ee ee THE Victim. For four females and one male. By H. G. Teg 8 as ee ete oe ese ee eee THE DUELIST. Fortwo boys. ByGS.L., - - + * = THE TRUE PHILOSOPHY. For several females and two males. By Dr. Louis Legrand, - - - ° te was - . A Goop Epucation. Fortwo females. By G.S.L., - - + THe Law oF HUMAN KINDNESS. Fortwo females, - - SPOILED CHILDREN. For a mixed school. By Miss Kate x ReGROIMe: 1 of '9 ein ee Oe he tees DIALOGUES FOR BOYS FROM SHAKSPEARE;: Brutus and Cassius, es, | oe ke rae She ae ae Coriolanus and Aufidius, WE gg a oie. gh an THE New ScHoLar. Fora numberof girls. By Alta Grant, - - Wie SELF MADE MAN. Forthreemales,- - - + - = fue MAY QueEN (No. 2.) For a school. A fancy dress and rausical piece, with costume and stage directions. Copied by permission from the ‘School Festival,” - - -— - Maes. MCLACKLAND's Economy. For four boys and three girls, By John R. Craigholm. Fromthesame, - - - -— = SyovuLp WOMEN BE GIVEN THE BALLOT? A Debate, For sev- eral boys. By Prof. Charles G. West, - + - + = _~ o 252 & SBS BR BR & & 8 THE DIME DIALOGUES NO. 9. ADVERTISING FOR HELP, FOR A NUMBER OF FEMALES. (Enter Mrs. LANE and AUNT PRISCILLA, @ spinister, talking.) Mrs. L. I have advertised for a girl, and the hour is near for the applicants to call, You, Aunt Pris, are so good a Land in asking questions, and in finding out all about others, that I wish you to be present and help me select. Aunt P. Certainly I will. I know the hull tribe, an’ you young housekeepers know so little of the things! It’s dvefful, the airs these helps puts on! I declare if Idow’t think, when the “wimmin’s righters git the ballot and give it to the Jrish and Dutch and Niggers, we'll have to do our own scrubbin’ and cookin’, for no independent voter is a-goin’ to do sich work when she kin help Pat and Hans and Sambo to fill all the offices from Gov’ner to Crow'ner, Mrs. L. (smiling). I see you don’t favor the mevement for woman’s suffrage. _ Aunt P. Bettersay thé movement for wimmin’s suff'rings, for she’ll suffer for it, mind Itellyou! No takin’ on of men’s duties ontil you’ve taken off your wimmin’s natur, thavs my pinion. (Bell rings.) There, I s’pose that’s one 0’ your answers. Tl be door-keeper. (Goes to door. Enter Jane with bandbow and big hunile.) JanzE, Wal, I declar’, ef I hain’t-got here at last. I'm e’en’most blow’d out with the long tramp from Mrs. Sikes’ ~ with all these duds, Jim might ’a’ come’d along and helped carry the bundle, but Mrs. Sikes was so consarned mean— Oh, she’s a mean one! She'd split a pea any time t Aunt P.- Look here, Miss or Mrs. What’s-your- Missa Jang. Jane Marier Lamb, Miss or Mrs. What’ syour-pame t second cousin tew— 10 THR DIME DIALOGUES, ; Aunt P. Hung your second cousin! JANE. What! : Aunt P. Never mind your second or first-cousins. What do you come here for? JANE. Well, that's cool fur a May (name any other month) morning, T must say! What did I come for? I didn’t come for any ov your knowledge as I knows ov. Who is boxs here ? Mrs. L. I am mistress of this family. JANE, Then, why didn’t you interdooce yersclf, at once ? Aunt. P. What do you want, girl, I say ? Jang. Scat, yeou! Yeou an’ I can’t sleep in the same mahogeney ! Aunt P. Did T ever! Jang. No I never! Aunt P. There's the door, Jane. I sees it. Aunt P. Go! JANE. (putting her thumb to her nose). 1 don’t see that. Mrs. L, Wait a moment, Aunty. Let me— Jann. Ts she your aunty ? Mrs. L. Yes, my— JANE, Looks old enough to be yer great-gran’mother. Aunt P. You impudent hussy! I’m only twenty-eight. Now dare you—how dare you! (shaking her finger at JANE). Jang. Oh, yeou git cout! When I’m thirty--an’ that Il be in abeont six moons more—you'll be ninety, or my guess ~ is a horn spoon. Aunt P. Ninety! Git out of this house, I say, or PH— Jane. Or, you'll go, hey? Jest the thing ef ’'m goin’ to sty here, : 2 Mrs. L. You answered my advertisement for a girl for— general housework, [ sippose ? Jane. Now yeou talk business, In course I did! Mrs. L. What ean you do? JANE. What ern 1 do, ye'd better ax, Aunt P. You can’t tell the truth, Jang. Well, to please you, we'll call (winking to Mus. L.). _ Aunt P. Eighty-nine? Will you go? ADVERTISING FOR HELP. i é Janz Nota go! Mrs. L. Can you cook, wash, iron, sweep, make beds, serub, run of errands, and so forth ? Jang. Particularly the and so forth. Wal, yes; I kin do all them and aleap more; I kin out-eat, out-talik, out-v sit, out-—— Aunt P Gat-landish. Jane. That’s one o’ your qualifications is it ? Mrs. L. Where have you been living? 3 Jaxs. Well, now, Mrs. What’s-your-name; yeou ask too many questions, kase I won’t answer. I’ve left Sikes’ for good and am goin’ tew live here, ef you are sweet on it. Mus. L. Sweet on it? What do you mean by that ? Jane. Mean? Why, that I’m your ekual, to be sure—tew set down tew .table witlt ye an’ be treated as one ov the famerly, jest as T was at Sikes’. Aunt P. You saucy, bold, scandalous creature! Jane. More of your accomplishments, eh ? Mrs. L. Ido not want you, I guess. I want a— Jane. Don’t want me? “Didn't you say yew wanted a girl for general housework, an’ haven't I come here to do that work? Of course J have! an’ here I’m goin’ to stay—yeou may bet on ¢hat—yeou ! 5; Mrs. L. We will see about that. Aunty, cail John. Jang. Who is John? Mrs. L. Our night-watchman. Jang. A night-watchman, hey? Well, ef you've got such an eaves-dropper an’ sneak around yer premises, I wouldn’t stay fur a bed in yer best front-room, that | wouldn't! (@ath- ers up-her box and bundle). Good-by, Aunty, dear (mock- ingly). When ye dries up an’ blows away, PIL know it by the smell ov brimstone in the air, (Dodges out us Auny | makes a dash at her as tf to tear her hair.) Mrs. L.. Hat hal If this isn’t the fanniest tin: heard of. Tl have a great story to tell Pred— 3 Aunt P. Funny! The wreteh—the beast—the meuster Why, Pil have her arrested for—for— Mrs. L. For what? : Aunt P. Why, for slander of course! Eighty-nine— _ (Bell rings.) Another torment, Is’pose. (Opens door, Enter THE DIME DIALOGUES. FRravunine, a German girl, dressed tn peasani costume, lace bod- tce, short skirt, heavy shoes and red stockings.) Frav. Weghats! Ich canna sprecht mooch Anglise + you sprechts Dooch, eh ? Mrs. L. No; but you are too small and too green, I fear tu answer my purpose. Frav. Yah-yah, tas ish goot! Creens mooch goot. Gabbage, ter sprengels, ter garlic—yah, goot / Mrs. L. Can you cook, wash and iron? (Bell rings.) Frau. Vas you dinks, eh ? = Mrs. L. Can you cook, wash and iron? (Bell rings.) Frav. Foon Sharmany, yaw, yaw! Mrs. L. You won’t answer my purpose Frav. Yaw; Castle Garten von Bremen. Mrs. L. You won't answer my-purpose, I say. Frav. Hans Schemmelphinnig, mit ter Bowery, saxteen hoondred und— (Bell rings.) Mrs. £. Annty, take her out! {Aunt P. leads F. out. F. courtesies at the door to Mrs. L., and disappears.) Well, this # encouraging. Bring in the next. (Moise without, and angry voices. AUNT P. goes out, and is heard to cry: “ Stop your noise !” “ Stand aside, I say!” “ One at a time!” In rushes Briveet, followed by Aun'r P., who closes the door.) Bripexr. It’s a purthy place, to be shure, but she'll not git it, or me name’s not Bridget Mullaleen. Mrs. L. Whom do you refer to? _ Brineet. That naygur, to be sure! Mrs. L. Well, Bridget, can you cook, wash, iron, sweep, make beds—- ~Bripcer. Howld on, misthress, dear! Lit me be the first ‘to ax quistions, to see if itll be worth while to answer yer guistions. Low many in the family ? L. Two husband and myself. : ver. Ts it much company ye has? . Mrs. L. Very little. Baipeer. Is it meself that has avery Thursday and Bune day afternoon and avenin’ to meself an’ friends ? Mrs. L. I don’t think— Aunt P. Ne; you don’t have every Thursday and Sun- ADVERTISING FOR HELP, - Brmeet. An’, pray, what is it yees know about it? I_ thought yees was the prisint waitin’-maid. Aunt P. More impudence! All comes of that confonnded gab about wimmin’s rights. Oh, if T had my way Pd— Bripeer. Ye'd git married, wouldn't ye, darlint ? Aunt P. You impertinent bog-trotter ! + Breet. Bog-trotter, is it? Be me sow] but T'll Pave nc mark on yer ugly mug. (Springs at Aunt P., who, seizing « broomstick, confronts her. They stand menacing one anotier a moment.) Mrs. L. Bridget, you can go. I shall not want you. - Brrwwert. Indade, I shall not want you. Of coorse Pil Yave afther this insult til me people; aw’ if an Irish girl takes sarvice here she'll be afther sayin” her last prayers, for Pll gee to it that the “* Mootual Protective Society of Irish Assistants ” shall spot yer house as black / (EZzit.) Aunt P. Oh, the scurf, the scum, the dregs! To be thus talked to by such! J declare if I don’t wisly it was agninst the law for any respectable house to harbor foreign servants, (Noise outside ; door suddenly opens, and PHILLIS, a negro weman, enters.) Pauis. Not ef I knows myself—an’ I vVinks I does—will dis nigga stay any longer in dat crowd. Vs as good as any - odder pussen wot don’t behave hisself, I is; an’ de Irishers an’ Dutchers will find me nuff for dem, dat’s so! Mus. L. What is it? ~ Purnnis. My name, mum, ar Phillis Lovinia Pertonita Jobn- son, an’ I cum fur to see ’bout takin’ de ’sponsible pangtind ye had de pleasurable ’casion to advertise in dis mornin’s * Electrifyer.” I’s yer gal, I guess, ef ye wants yer work done *spectable. Mrs. L. Just what I want. I think Pll engage you. _ Aunt P. Whew, Mary! Better inquire into Phillis’ pre cedents and so forth, befure you engage her. Purmuis. Oh, dem’s perfectly ’sponsible. T’s lived wid sia or seben ladies on dis street. ; ~ Aunt P. And how long did you stay at your last place} Puius. Jus’ free days. “Aunt P. And how long at the oles place ? Pau, Well, ye see, mum, I didn’t stay dar long, kaze 14 THE DIME DIA LOGUE. de gentlemum said as how he didn’t want his kitchen a stop- pin’-place for udder niggers, an’ so [ Jeabed, kase w’at ’ud Zenas Wen say, an’ Ben Buck, an’ Sem Wabble, and Steve Stone say, an’ Miss Pivley, an’ Miss Snow, an’— Mrs. L. Who are these people ? Priunis. Oh, laws, dey is my friends wat always comes to epend de evenin’s wid me! Arnt P. And take tea? Pamir. Jes’ so, wid Ge fixin’s in. Mrs. L. Ah! . I guess I don’t want you, Phillis. Poi. No? Well, that’s fort’nit, kase dis nigga’s goin’ to get married dis day week, an’ I ought to take a rest until dat solum ’casion, jest to ’pare fo’ it. It’s all fo’ de bes’, missis ; so good-by to ye. * ( Exit.) (As she opens the door to leave, four or five others press tn, dressed in ull kinds of costumes.) Aunt PP. What-do you all want ? z Firsr Speaker. A situation, mem. I’m ha Henglish wo- man as is got good recommends, aw’ lived in a Duke’s tamerly, ay’ — Suconp Speaker. And Iam not an English woman; I dow't, in fact, know where T came from; my name is said to be Sarah Swift; I am neither Protestant nor Catholic; I _ haven’t got a cousin in the world, and but few friends ; but I have got hands, and high temper, and no recommends; and so — if you want me on ial, all right; if not, all the same. I am perfectly indifferent yet willing to werk, and will try te. please you. What do you say ? (Mrs. L. and Aunt P. look at each other inguireigigs 3 Aunt P. You'll do for trial. I admire your candor, but — fear your temper. Mrs. Lane, here, is the lady of this house, and I hone you'll please her. The rest may go. se Tuirp SpxaKER. Oh, you are mighty easily pleased to take up with éaé girl! She'll lead you a preity dance,-Pl war- rant. tes Fourtn Speaker. An’ I’m a Jone widder wid three chil. ders, an’ a husband as can’t work at his trade ov drayman fur- want of a horse and dray. I cud do your werk an’ me own too, be jabers, an’ that w’u’d be a savin’ to one oy us, ye’see; an’ if ye hey no childers here, ye sec, I eu’d hey my two ADVERTISING FOR HELP. babies wid me, an’ that w’w'd be nice! So ye’d better be afither givin’ that trollop her discharge, an’ may the Lord bless ye an’ keep ye from harum, an’-— AunTP. There, that willdo. We don’t want a lone widder with a husband and three children. This is not a county Poor House. Fourta Speaker. To the divil wid ye! Is it makin’ light ov me misfortunes that ye are? Bad ’cess to ye an’ all yer childers, an’ may the sores grow on the sowles ov yer feet so that ye can’t step; an’ may ye— Aunt P. Away with you, you old beldame, or I'll have the police called ! : Fourth SPEAKER. The perlice is it? Ye hard-hearted gentlewoman that ye are. Oo-—o0o—oo— _ (Cries.) Saran. As [ understand that Pm engaged, I'll commence work at once, (Opens the door.) Do you sce that door, Mrs. Widder wid a husband and three childers ? Go, or I'll help ye out with a piece of my temper in the shape of the broomstick. (Backs the widow out.) Now, girls, you can consider Mrs Lane’s advertisement answered, for the present. If Mrs. Lane gets tired of me and my ways, all she has to do is to say so, and I’m off. If you see her advertisement in again in'a week, don’t be surprised ; and don’t be surprised if I stay here a year and a day. (Ali girls exit.) Mrs. L. Come, then, Sarah, we'll show you your duties, and hope that you'll please. Saran. I'll at least not give you sauce instead of service ; I know my place and will try t6 keep it, Aunt P. A rare virtue, iudced! Tl warrant she doa’ gy to wimmin’s rights meetings ! (AU exit.) 16 THE DIME. DIALOGUES. AMERICA TO ENGLAND, GREETING! FOR TWO BOYS. (Hnter Ropert Grawam, an American boy, and ARTHUR WELLESLY, an English boy.) Rozert. Ido detest this flunkeyism. Running after the prince, forsvoth! Why, Arthur, we here all are princes, and no one lords it over us. We bow our knees to no nobility, and acknowledge the authority of no king. Artuur. Whew/ what a delectable land this must be, to be sure! You refuse your respects to our young prince, and call regard for persons in high position flunkeyism ; and yet, even you put on the airs of superiority, styling yourself and all others princes / ~~ Is not all this very inconsistent ? Rozert. Inconsistent? Why, sir, it is tadependence/ It is the assertion of the dignity of American character—of our own self-respect. — ARTHUR. But very inconsistent, nevertheless, or else my Englishman’s eyes and ears have been greatly deceived. Ropert. You very properly say. Hnglishman’s eyes and ears, for, had you an American’s eyes and ears, you would realize that no man can with- dignity accept the inferior posi- tion implied by the very word prince, unless all are princes and none are subjects, Artur. Good in theory and. bad in practice. I have seen, in this country, just as much of what you call “ flunkey- ism,” as I ever saw in old England. Here, every member of your society xpes some other member ; here, your first families, as you call them, lord it over the second-rate families with truly regal authority, on all matters of taste, morals, and social re- ations. Here, your— Ropert.. Ah, do not go any further. You make the mis- wke that every foreigner makes, of taking a few specimens - irom oyr heterogeneous population, and judging vast masses by these exceptions, Why, sir, do’ you know that a snob, here,- is thoroughly despised ? Do you know that the popinjays of society are, in influence -and worth, regarded by the great working, living, acting element of American society as eqital wo Just sO" hiany monkeys ? pane to your first fumilics, thept 2 ne AMERICA TO ENGLAND, GREETING ! % even now are things of the past. There was a time, only a generation or two ago, when that old humbug of feadalism— imported from England, like half of our other ills—had foree enough to exert a kind of petty authority and rule over a cer- tain class ; but even that is now gone: he or she is the leader in society and politics who can assert and maintain the leader- ship by force of talent. We have, alas! in our midst, a set of partenues—persons of ignorance who have suddenly ob- tained wealth, who do ape others, and who flaunt their dollars and dimes in our faces at every turu; but, bless you, these people are the laughing-stock of the better class just as much as the buffoon show is the source of amusement to children. Artuur. Well, well, this is yhat you may call an elab- orated photograph, only that the principal objects are dwarfed and the accessories are magnified. If your statement is the correct one, then what Iand almost every other visitor to your shores has regarded as principals are _ but accessories —a, singular mistake for us to make. Ronert. But one you have made, nevertheless; and it is this apparently studied misconception of things here by your countrymen and your press, which keeps alive in the breasts of our people the feeling of dislike, or worse, of which you Englishmen complain. We know that the great mass of our population, mixed up as it is, of all classes and elements, is true and loyal to the principies of republicanism, and this de- votion makes us, at times, seemingly arrogant; but we are not arrogant. We are impatient under opposition ; we fecl our gigantic power, and we do not care to be treated patronizingly by those having little or no sympathy with our democratic government, The conduct of your nation during our late civil war illustrated the spirit of the two nations. “When we were in the throes of an almost mortal distemper, ycur people, as a people, and your government, as a government, rejoiced, and from the mean motive of wishing the United States broken as a power. Never, so long as republicanism lives, will tiis be forgotten of your country ; and, heal over the sore as we may by the soothing plaster of national civility, there still is here (striking his own breast), and in the bosom of every true Amer- ican, w smoldering fire. which, in some unexpected moment, will burst forth like an earthquake to shake your very throne 18 THE DIME DIALOGUES. to its base! If we are at peace to-day, it is, first, because we profoundly regard the affection of those few Englishmen who are and have been friends of the Great Republic: and second, because it is wrong for Christian nations to war; but let not the cross of St. George ever again be flaunted in our faces menacingly, for, as there isa Destiny which rules the centuries, so surely will the Stars and Sutpes be run to the signal peak, an | the shrill fife be sounded in every hamlet in the land, calling Americans to the long-contemplated struggle, which will end only in Great Britain’s lasting humiliation and loss of power ! ArtaurR What folly isthis! America humiliate England! You are mad | Rosert. Not mad, oh most noble Festus, but I speak the words of sobeiness and truth! You seek to deceive your- selves in this thiug as the ostrich, which, by hiding its head under its wing, thinks it is invisible. But is it the part of wisdom ? No; it is you who are mad !—as mad as the roar- ing bull who confronts the coming whirlwind. ‘Therefore, one word of advice, friend Arthur: when you return to your shores, say to your people—“ Deceive yourselves no more; regard the Great Republic 2s Great Britain’s fate, and stand not in its way, or you wili be ground to powder.” ArtTHuR. Pal! Uwonld be laughed at by old and young, and would be confronted by— (A quartette in an adjoining room strikes up “ God Save the Queen.” ARTHUR smiles and waves his hand as in triumph. When the first stanza is ended he adds :) _~ You see; the very powers of the air would mock me! Ropert. Powers of air! It is merely the echoes of the dead Past—of things that were. Would you hear the living Prese:t speak ? (Raises his hand, and the whole school wul the -sudcence sing the first stanza of the “ Star Spangied Barner,” during the singing of which ARTHUR puis his fingers in his ears and exit. When the first verse is sung, Roper steps farward and recites at length :) My county, ’tis cf thee, Sweet Land of Liberty Of thes I sin: * Ete., ofc. «ae (Pen eri, ee TRE oLD AND THE “NEW. THE OLD AND THE NEW. FOR FOUR FEMALES AND ONE MALE. Oharacters : Granny, old woman ; Eviza, schsol-girl ; Bropy, hired girl ; Mrs. Brieas, the mother; Patrick, Biddy’s lover. Curtain rises and discloses GRANNY, dressed, as an old lady, with spectacles, and knitting in Yer hand. Mrs. Brieas is sewing.) Mrs. Briacs. Well, mother, I’ve been thinking, for a long time, about sending Eliza away to school.. Granny. La sakes, daughter, what ave you talking about ? Send Elizy away to school? No, no; jist take my advice and don’t do it; you are too proud tntirely. The school here is plenty good enuff for her; here’s where you got your eddi- cation, and [ think it plenty good enuff fur Elizy. Mrs. B. But, mother, you have such old-fashioned notions. All you think about is for a girl to know how to work. I think Eliza would be benefited by sending her away to school, There she will see more refinement and become a little more polished. She now looks as uncouth as if she’d been raised among a set of heathen. Granny. La, Sally, how you do talk! I think it no dis- grace fur Elizy to learn to spin, weave, and knit her stockings, - as you have done. You'll make her so proud she’ i not own her-own mother, arter a while.’ : Mrs. B. Now, Granny, I have just made up my see and she shall go, and get smart (petulantly). Granny. Lor bless me, Sally ; you'll hev your own way, - no how you kin fix it. Well, well! these times are not what they used to was, La,in my young days we thort it jist play to spin our dozen cuts a day, churn and milk the cows be- sides. All I hev got to say is, I hope all this grate Carnin’ il not spile Elizy. Hev your own way. (Rocks herself back- ward and forward, then rises and leaves the room.) ; (Eater Exiza.) Mrs. B. Daughter, I have concluded to send you to board- ing-school. The common school here is not good enough for you. I want you to go where you can learn more refinement Se of manners; and mind, Eliza, I want you to be Vee ae ‘THE DIME DIALOGUES. - how you act at school, for you have been here in the country so long I expect they will call you green. Exviza. Won't that be splendiferous! Just to think, ’m goin’ away to boarding-school! Ha-ha! how Nancy Sprigg "ll wish she could go—golly, won’t she! Mrs. B. Eliza! Do not use that word, golly, again. You have been with Granny so much that you haye got ‘n the habit of using too much of her old-fashioned talk. It’s “ golly,” “Ja, bless you,” “ Californy Moses,” all the time. I want yon to stop it. And as for Nancy Sprigg, I want you to have no- thing to do with her, for she is a coarse girl, not a fit asso- ciate for you. Eniza. California Mo—: Mrs. B. Eliza, what did I tell you! If you repeat that again T’]] punish you, big as you are. I want you to ve ready to start to school as soon as I can get you ready. iNew you may tell me what you were going to say. Exiza. Well, marm, I'll want three or four new dresses *fore I go, and a hat with a feather on it. Vl bet 4 won’t go unless I can dress fine. mo GRANNY (entering as Eviza speaks). Elizy, ye nev too much pride fur a gal of yer age. When I was a gal, I never thort of hevin’a feather in my hat. Yer pride wilt ieo a fall, some day. - = Euiza. Now, Granny, yon are commuting to croak like you always do. I’m dound to have a fvsiner in my bat, und I don’t care. (Pouts.) © ° Granny. La, bless you, gal; if I bed the raisin’ of you, I'd take some of that sauciness out of you, (Znter Brovy.) _ Brwpy. Plaze, marm, dinner’s ready and gittin’ all cowld, Mrs. B. Come, Granny, don’t get mad; let us go to din ner. Come, Eliza. (All go out as curtain falis.) Scene I].—Znter Brovy, dressed as a servant-girl, a rag ticd round her head. A broom is in her hand, which she wields very rapidly, talking at the same tine. Elizy has b’en away to bo’rdin’-school. La, didn’t she put on airs the last time she oome home? By me sowl, I wish she’d Bmpy, Shure, an’ it has b’en a long time since Mishtress - + * = a mente a Ship tears Fe — . THE OLD AND THE NEW.. “miver come back again, Indade, I niver see one minute's peace when she’s at home; but, now the school is out. an’ she’s comin home this blissed day, an’ faith, Til hev to be afther fixin’ up the room, Och, jist to think. how she can pley on the peranner. (Imitates Exiza’s voice and movement at the piano.) Do—ce—l-a-a-a! Law! I belavé I can sing meself. Wouldn’t Pat laugh if he’d hear me, an’ see me pute tin’ on airs like me misthress, Elizy! (Goes to dusting.) 1 must hurry an’ git me work done up, or I'll git what Paddy gives the drum. (A knock at the door. Buppy goes to door, and enter Pat, slyly.) : Par. Is there anybody in, Biddy ? Bippy. No, indade! Come right in and sit down, All the folks are in the dining-room/ateing the’r supper. Wohin they come, you can dodge out of the door. Pat. Shure, T haven’t long to stay. I jist cum to talk wid you a few minits. I was over to Peggy Mulrony’s last night. She tould me to bring you her luv, but I belave she forgot to give it to me, fore I started. But, I belave I brought meself, anyhow. (Brppy goes to the door and listens.) Bipvy. Indade, Pat, was ye over to Peggy's last night? Bless me sowl, what did she hey ‘to say ? Par. Och, Biddy, we had a choice time. Tim O’Lary and Peggy was as luvin’ as two kiltens, Rippy. Oh, Pat, who else was thar ? Pat. Tim Sharry, Sall Sprash, Pat Lochlin, and oh, Biddy, - I couldn't tell the half of them. We had a nice time indade. _Faith, an’ ye ought to hev bin there, Biddy. : Bropy. (Puts her hand on his shoulder and says :) Oh Pat— (Noise in dining-room ; goes to door and listens.) Pat, they are comin’. Run quick,.an’ cum again whin ye git 4 chance. (He runs out, bumps his head against the door as he goes, and halloos wits pain.) : (Enter Mrs. Briaas.) Mrs. B. Biddy, what is all this noise about ? Bippy. Plaze, marm, votbing, indade; only I was singin’ a leetle. Och, marm, I wish I could sing like Misthress Elizy. Mrs. B. Biddy, I’m glad you think Eliza sings well. I think she has improved a great deal since she went away to gebvel. 3 » THE DIME DIALOGUES. Bippy. Bliss her sowl, she sings like a nightingale and looks like a p-a-arfect angel. (Mrs. B. goes out and brings GRANNY tn, who pretends to be more ill than she really ix. Wiile she is out, Brppy says -) - Brovy. I knows how to git on the best side of the ould lady. Jist praise her darter Elizy, an’ she’s as swate as a prache pie. (She again imitates Ex.tza’s actions at the piano.) . (Enter Mrs. B. and GRANNY.) Mus. B. Granny, lean more upon. my arm. ‘You are not able to walk by yourself. Granny. Sally, I fe-e-l pritty sort uv bad to-day, but I see Biddy has the room all cleaned up, and I'll sit in this rocking-chair. B-id-dy, you may hand me my fan. I f-e-e-l rather faint. = Brppy. Yes, marm. Z Granny. And my knittin’, on the table. There, now, Biddy, go to-the kitchen and do up yer work. (She looks at her daughter Sauty.) Sally, did you say Elizy was comin’ home to-day ? Mas. B. Yes, Granny. Granny. Law me! I’spects I'll hardly know her. She must de terrible improved, being among big folks so Jong, TI ’spee 3 she'll hardly notice old Granny enny more. She'll hey her }ead so full of all these fine things, an’ playin’ on the pervs aner, an’ talkin’ French, that she’ll think it a disgrace to wea dishes an’ sich like. Mrs. B. Now, Granny, how you do talk! I don’t think Eliza will be a bit proud. She'll be a little more refined, that’s all. Granny. Well, well; these times are not what they used _ to was; but it’s purty near time fur the stage to come, hain’t it? Mrs. B. Yes; and Eliza willsoon be here. Hark, I think I hear it now. Granny. (Bends her head in the attitude of listening, and says?) I don’t hear it, but, Lor bless me! I'm gettin’ old, and can’t hear enny thing enny more, There! I believe I do hear it. a (Mrs. B. goes to door, meets and kisses ELIZA.) Mrs. B. My dear daughter; you have come home at last How anxiously have Granny and T been looking for you! THE OLD AND THE NEW. Exiza. How do you do,ma? Iam so glad to get home again; and here is Granny. How do you do, Granny? I am so glad to see yous (Takes off her hat, ete. Pat stands in the doorway, waiting for Bxiza to pay him for conveying her bag- gage. Brpvy slyly comes in the room, and edges toward Pat, and says :) Bippy. How de do, Pat? Laws, but ye looks as smart as a new stove, in that new suit. : Pat. Faith, and Biddy, ?’'m glad to see ye; yer checks are as rosy as winter apples. Exiza. Oh, yes! I forgot to pay you. Here is your money. (Pat takes the money, goes out, and Brppy follows after.) Fie Granny. Law sakes, Elizy, how you hev grown, and What nice things you hev on! (Takes hold of her dress.) Jerusalem! This must be silk, What terrible extravagance ! Culiforny! When I was a gal, I thort I dun well when T got a Linsey dress. Sukes alive, child ! but you must cost a heap. More, I s’pose, than would buy a horse and cow, Mrs. B. Well, Eliza, how have you enjoyed yourself? It does me good to look at you, for you have been away for so long. at Eviza. I have been well, mother, and have enjoyed my- self exceedingly. I have become proficient in the English branches, excelled all the girls in music, and have obtained the prize. é ; Granny. Elizy, now, dew tell, you hey grown so fine. How much cid you pay fur this hat? Sich a hat! There's nothing of it. Jerusha! when I was a gal, they had hats that was something. They came way over the face, and was jist as good as an umbereller, and a leetle ribbon to hold it when the wind blowed. Eniza. I paid twelve dollars for it, Granny. Granny. Moses in the bulrushes! what extravagance! Ualiforny! You'd make a rich man poor ina month! I wonder how ’twould look on me. (Tries it on, and hobbles on a cane to the glass to see.) Bless me, I'd look like a baboon4 Mrs. B. Eliza, dear, I am proud of you! Granny. I guess she’s proud of herself, as well, judging by her duds. : r a I i Saag LO A a THE DIME DIALOGUES. Enza. Come, Granny, don’t. be cross-grained nor unjust Tam not whatI was when I left this house, I have not only learned well of my books, but I have also learned that no girl can be happy who does not make other¥ so. I am now ready for life’s duties, whatever they are, and shall prove to you that all the goodness and worth of woman did not perish fifty years ago, as you seem to think, Granny. Whew! > what a talker you be, to be sure! You've learned that out, that’s sure! D’ye s’pose ye could milk a cow, cook a dinner, do a washing, make your own clothes, as I did when I was a gal? Euiza. With the greatest ease! Iocan do more; 1 can not only do these things, or easily learn them, but T can make my own home happy by music, and books, and intelligent conversaltion—what, I fear, your girls of fifly years ago could not all do, Just believe that the world is better and wiser lo-— day than it was when you were a girl, and you will cease tu be so unhappy over things as they are, (£nter BRIDGET.) Buiwcet. Please, mum, now that Miss Elizy is home, Tm going to leave. Mrs. B. Going to leave? What for? Bripcet. Weil, i’s my distiny, I suppose. Granny. What d’ye say? Bringer. l’s my fortin. Mrs. B.. Your fortune? Explain. Brivcet. Well, ye see, firstly, I can’t stand another mis- thress, What wid Granny and yersilf, it’s enough fur me to mind ye both; but now Miss Elizy is $ home it'll be onpossible fur me to mind her, too _Grasny. Jes’ so, Sally! I told ye how ’twould be, giving -yeur gal a fashionable eddication | Mrs. B. What is your further reason, if you have one? Bripeet, Pat / Mrs..B. Pat? What has Pat to do with it? Bripeer. Well, ye sees, Pat, he—Pat, he— Granny. Patty who? None o’ your business ! Mrs. B. Well, what of Pat? Iv’ Pat ond mesilf that’s goin’ to have a house Spe es av our own, where J shall be misthress, wid niver a anes over me; and that'll be nice! Eurza. You and Pat are going to marry—is that it? Bmpy. My, how sharp ye are, miss! I couldn’t had the courage to say it, an’ thank yees for saying it for me. E1iza. When does the happy occasion come off? Bippy. Allanah! you've a pryirg mind. Esaza. Oh, Til be glad to make you a wedding-cake. Bippy. Sorra’s the day, thin, whin I wint an’ got married, for now I'll never have the weddin’-cake! Ivs all Pat's fault. Mrs. B. What do you mean?s Are you already married to Pat? Bippy. Yis, mum; six months ago! Sorra’s the day! Granny. There, golly, I knew it! It was just the time when she commenced making heavy, sour bread. Biwvy. Go way wid ye! You've never said a good word for me or anybody else in yer life. Heavy bread, indade! It’s betther than you iver made in yer bist days! Euiza. There, Bridget! Never mind the: bread. TP make you up some things, and the wedding-cake yet ; for you shall not go away empty-handed. Granny. More extravagance! Did I ever? Who do you s’pose is goin’ to foot the bills ? Bippy. Not you, indade! If, when we grow old, we have got to see our good feelings change to vinegar, I prays the Howly Mother niver to let me grow to be a granny. But, Miss Elizy, ye’ve returned from school widout a spec of yer old granny’s maneness, and ye may be sure when I hev a girl old enough to send her away, she shall go to the bist school in the land, if that it is which makes an obedient daughter, and a girrul for any station. Mrs. B. That is what a truly good school will do, Bridget ;- and, although I sent Eliza away from motives of pride, I um most happy to know it was a fortunate act. Granny. Yis, yis, eddication is a great thing! Bropy. (Aside.) Pity ye hadn’t had a drop or two when ye was young. : Exrza. It is, as I now know, all- -important to make both the heart and mind well ordered and well balanceé This, of — THE DIME DIALOGUES. course, I never would have known had T remained in my old pride and ignorance; but I bless the day when I was sent from home; and my whole future life will be the nobler, the more useful and the happier for it. Granny. Well. well, there’s no tellin’. Had I been l’arned T might ‘a been a Dukess or something of the sort, for that’s what Elizy ‘ll be, I s’pose. Exuia. Nothing less than a princess, Granny, or a queen. That is what every American girl is who improves her time, and properly employs the advantages extended to all by our glorious schools. Biwpy. Hear! hear! That’s the talk! America for me, says I! . “Granny. Give me yer hand, Biddy! It does my old bones good to jiear ye say that. Mebbe IT am crotchety, an’ envious, an’ sordid, owing to the long life Pve led of har, hard struggle to bring up a big family in respectability ; but never have I known an hour when my heart warn’t true to my country ; an’ my dast prayer shall be, “God bless my na- tive Jand !” : Brpy. Arrah, ye’ve got me now, old lacy! Here’s me hand an’ me heart on ¢hat sentiment! Ah, if T only had a voice like the serappininm I'd sing, in every tyrant’s ear, (Sings the hymn “ America.”) God bless your native land, I*irm may she ever stand, etc., etc. : Notr.—The entire school should, however, be brought into requisition, and when Bridget strikes up. all shonld sing. If the school does not sing, all the characters on the stage should join in, and the curtain should drep at the close of the song. It will form a fine climax for the dialogue. CHOICE OF TRADES. ; 3 A RECITATION FOR SEVERAL LITTLE BOYS. First Boy. When I’m a man, a man, Tl be a farmer if I can—and I can! Til plow the ground, and the seed I'll sow ; Til reap the grain, and the grass I’ll mow; T'll bind the sheaves, and I’ll rake the hay, : And pitch it up, and mow away | 3 When I'm a man! fe | CHOICK OF TRADES. Srconp Boy. When I’m a man, a man, Tl be a carpenter, if I can—and I can! T}] plane like this, and Pll hammer, so! And this is the way my saw shall go. Vl make bird-houses, and sleds and boats ; And a ship that shall race every craft that floats When I’m a man! TuirpD Boy. When J’m a man, # man, A blacksmith I'll be, if I can—and I can! Clang, clang, shall my anvil ring ; And this is the way the blows I'll swing. I'll shoe your horse, sir, neat and tight, Then I'll trot round the square to see if it’s right, When I’m a man! Fourta Boy. When I’m a man, a man, A mason I'll be, if I can—and I can! Vil lay a brick this way, and one that; Then take my trowel and smooth them flat; Great chimneys I'll make; I think I'll be able To build one as high as the Tower of Babel When I'm a man! : Firrn Boy. When I’m a man, a man, Til be a shoemaker, if I can—and I can! Tl sit on the bench, with my last held so; And in and out shall my needles go. Tl sew so strong that my work shall wear Till nothing is left'but my stitches there ! When I'm a man! Sixtu Boy. When I’m a man, a man, A printer I'll be, if I can—and I can! Til make pretty books, and perhaps I shas. Print the stories in the Sarurpay JourNnat! T'll have the first reading ; ah, won't it be fun To read all the stories before they are done? When I’m a man! SEVENTH Boy. When I’m a man, a man, A doctor I'll be, if I can-and I can M THE DIME DIALOGUES, My powders and pills shall be nice and sweet ; And you shall have just what you like to eat! Pil prescribe for you riding and skating, and such ; And,’bove all things, you never must study too much : When ’ma man! « S Eicutn Boy. When I’m a man, a man, - Yl be 4 minister, if I can—and I can! And, once insa while, a sermon I'll make, That can keep“little boys and girls awake. For, ab, dear me! if the ministers knew, : a How glad we are when they do get through ! Pa When I’m a man! : Nints Boy. When I’m a man, a man, A teacher Tl! be, if I can—and I can! Tl sing to my scholars, fine stories I'll tell ; Pll show them pictures, and, well—ah, well, They shall have some lessons—I s’pose they ought ! But oh! I shall make them so very short! When I'm a man] Trento Boy. When I’m a man, a man, T'll be a school committee, if I can—and I can! *Bout once a week [ll come into school, And say: “Miss Teacher, ’'ve made a rule, That boys and girls need a great deal of play You may give these children a holiday !” When I'm a man! Exreventa Boy. When I’m a man, a man, Tl. be President, if I can—and I can! My uncles and aunts are a jolly set ; f And Pll have them all in my cabinet ! ; I shall live in the White House, and I hope you all, When you hear that I’m elected, will give me a call! When I’m a man! (Avl in concert, or if they can not be trained to speak tt in com cert, 30 as to make every word understood, let the best speaker step forward and repeat alone, in a distinet voice :) ° THE LAP-Dog. When we are men, are men, = * J hope we shall do great things, and then, Whatever we do, this thing we say, ~ We'll do our work in the very best way; And you shall see, if you know. us then, We'll be good, and honest; and uséful men, ° When we are men ! z ‘THE LAP-DOG. FOR TWO. FEMALES. (Enter Exiza and Nancy, talking.) Exiza. Miss Nancy, What child was that your aunt had in her arms this morning, as she was walking in the mall ? ; Nancy. A child! Miss Eliza, a child! You don’t think my aunt would be seen walking in public with a child in her “arms | b ; Eiza. Pray, miss, where “would be the harm? T know she has a beautiful pair of twins, and I thought it might be one of them, as it was partly covered with her cloak. Nancy. No, indeed; it was her lap-dog. . ‘Exiza. Upon my word, Nancy, you have mended the matter mightily! Your aunt is ashamed to be seen walking with a child in her arms, but is not ashamed to be seen carry- ing a paltry puppy through the streets!’ Pray, how much more valuable is 1 puppy than a child ? Nancy. Why, as to the real value, Eliza, I don’t know but a child should be prized the highest. Though my aunt says she had rather part with both her twins than lose her dear littie Trip. But, you know, she would be taken for one “of the lower sort of women, if she were to Tug a childabout with her; whereas, nothing makcs her appear more like a lady than to be seen gallanting her little dog. And Trip is none of your common curs, I assure you. His mother was imported from Europe; and it is said she once belonged to a lady of nobility, You can’t think what a sweet little créature _ he is, My aunt bas nursed bim wholly herself ever since he_ was 3 week old. ee THE DIME DIALOGUES, E1zza. And who nursed the twins? | Nancy. They were put into the country with a very good. woman. They have never been at home but once since they were born. But their mamma visits them as ofien, at least as once a month, Euiza. Would she be willing to be as long absent from her dear little Zrip, as you call him ? Nancy. Oh, no, indeed! She would run crazy if she were to lose him but for one day. And no wonder; for he is the most engaging litle animal you ever saw. You would he diverted to see him Crink tea out of tlie ladies’ cups. And he kisses his mistress delightfully! My aunt says she would not sleep a night without him for his weight in gold. Euiza. It is very noble in your aunt to pay such attention to an object of so much consequence. ‘He is certainly more valuable than half a@ dozen children, Does your aunt expect to learn him to talk ? Nancy. Talk! why, he talks already. She says she per- fectly understands his language. When he is hungry, he can ask for sweetmeats. When heis dry, he can ask for drink. When he is tired of running on foot, he can ask to ride; and my aunt is never more happy than when she has him in her arms ! Exriza. And yet she would not be seen with one of her own children in her arms! Nancy. Why, that would be very oulgar ; and all her ac- quaintance would laugh at her. Children, you knew, are al- Ways crying; and no ladies of fashion will ever admit them ‘into their company. Exiza. If children are alw ays erying, little dogs are ee barking, and which is the most disngreeable noise ? ~ Nancy. Oh! the barking of Zrip is music to all who hear him!> Mr. Fribble, who often visits my aunt, says he éan raise and fall the eight notes to perfection ; and he preters the sound of his voice to that of the harpsichord. It was he who brought his mother from London ; and he says there wag not a greater favorite nmong all the dogs in possession of the fine ladies of the court. Aud more than all that, he says Trip greatly resembles a spaniel which belongs to one of the royal sealy. Mr. Fribble and my aunt almost quarreled last Ne to seé which should have the honor of carrying the déar liltie favorite to the play. Eiuiza. After hearing so many rare qualifications of the Hittle quadruped, I do not wonder at your aunt’s choice of a eowparion. Iam not surprised she shotid set her affections upoa a creature so deserving of all her care. It is to be wished her children might never come in competition with this objeat of her affections. I hope she will continue to main- tain the dignity of her sex, and never disgrace the fashionable circle to which she belongs, by neglecting her lap-dog for the more vulgar employment of attending to her own off- spring. (Zzit.) 4 THE VICTIM.* FOR FOUR FEMALES AND TWO MALES, (Enter Miss Prxton, a spinster, in some haste, her fingers in her cars.) Miss P. Oh, horrible! Well I never cease to hear that song? Go wherever I will it’s nothing but, “ Captain Jinks of the horse marines,” (sung mockingly), up stairs or down, in the stores, everywhere ; and I wouldn’t be surprised any Sun- day to hear that it had been “ rendered ”—as the fashionables call singin’, in Doctor Ten-thousand-a-year’s church. I’m sick and tired— (Hnter BripGEr, swinging a broom and singing, “TI feed me hoorse on coorn and banes.”) Bless my soul if it isu’t here again ! Briveer. It’s meself that’s here, Mistress Pixton. (Com-— mences sweeping, and sings, “ I'l tache the ladies how to dance, how to-—’”) Miss P. Stop it! Away with it! Til have none of it! Brivesr. Is it the coorn an’ banes, or the dust ye mane ? : But bless yer sowl, how is I to clane the house if I don't * Kick up the dust ? (sémgs,) for “Pm Captain Jinks ov the—?” (Miss P. screams and puts her fingers tn her ears.) Did Lever! * This piece turns upon the constant singing of the now popular songof _ “Captain Jinks,” but any other song and words can be substituted ul “Captain Jinks" has given place to gome other constantly sung popu! : Is it frightened that ye are, or too much plazed to ixpress yer- self, or was it the rheumatics in yer— Miss P. Away with-you! Leave! Begone! Clear out, Isay! (BrrmcGer slowly backs out of the room, eyes fixed star- ingly on Miss P., who glares at her furiously.) May the hang- man get her and ail her tribe, the odicus thing! To sing it in my very room! T'll— (Znter Lirtte Lucy.) Jiucy. Oh, aunty, there is such a funny man before the house, with a hand-organ and monkey, and he plays splen-did, (sings,) “ Oh, ’'m Captain Jinks of the—” Miss P Avaunt! Outofmy. sight! Oh, Pll spank you, you little vaga— (Dashes at Lucy, but the child dodges out of the door and sings as she goes, “ Oh, I’m Captain Jinks of the Ar- my.) 1) have that organ man arrested as a pauper, and his monkey T’ll have burned. (Rings beil, and calls, “ John ! John !”) : : Jonn (outside). Yis, mum; in a braaf momint. I'm carry- in’ Miss Margy’s cataar oop stairs. (Whistles loudly the tune of Captain Jinks.) Miss P. The wretch! Howdare he! Ill discharge him. I'll see if my house can’t be preserved— (Znter Jonn). Leave, sir! Joun (staring). Leave what, mum ? Miss P. Leave tlie house ! Joun. No, indade! I didn’t leave the house, but Bridget did, wid Lucy, jist to hear that organ man wid his monkey; and, be me sowl, if he didn’t bate me own fiddle when he struck oop (sings,) ““ Oh, I'm Captain Jinks of the horse-—* (Miss P., plugging her ears, screams.) Is it a pain ye have? — Miss P. Leave, I say, or I'll call the— (A guitar és heard ‘ outside thrumming “ Captain Jinks.”) MurpER ! Jomun. She’s clane gone mad! (Rushes out.) ~ Miss P. (dropping into a@ chair). Tl die of this; I’ll be made -erazy ; Vil be set wild; Vlb be injured in my heart; Pll be— (A knock on the door]. Who's there? (Door opens ; enter Poor Woman.) ; -« Poor W. Please, lady, I’m sellin’ little books and ballads, for I’ve six children to support and a husband in the army, Please buy. Here is that dear, delightful.song, “ Captain Jinks.” Shall I sing it for you? I love to sing it, for you see, (sings,) “ My hubsand is in the army !” 3 Miss P. Away with you! Tl have you arrested,you tor- mment—you impostor—you— Poor W. May you never have to sell ballads for a living, nor sing “ Captain—” Miss P. Away,I say! (Heit Poor Woman.) There needs but one more drop to overflow my cup; if that boy gets to-— Hark! (Woise outside, as of boys.) Ah, there he comes, the dear fellow. (Wotse outside. Cries, “‘ Let me try,” “ Let me try.” Then a flute or fifeis heard.) Oh, its Fred with the flute I gave him, The dear boy! (Enter Frep and other boys.) FRED. Oh, Aunty, I’ve got it—I’ve got it! Aunt P. Got what, Freddy? Frep, Why, that tune! Just hear! (He commences to play “ Captain Jinks.” Mass P. plugs up her ears again and screams. Boys rush out.- Miss P. makes a dash at FreD, and seizes him by the collar.) Miss P, How dare you, sir? Right in my own room to introduce that dreadful, dreadful Captain Jinks! There, go along, sir! Never let me see your face again, or hear that horrible flute any more. (Shoves him out.) ; FRED (outside). Whew, boys, the old gal is— (Plays “ Captain Jinks” as he goes.) Miss P. The old gall Well, I’m ready to go now. My heart is ruptured ! (Hait.y THE DUELIST. FOR TWO BOYS. (Znter Epward and HENRY.) Epwarp. Harry, I am come, at your request. What is the object of this interview ? ; Henry. My business with you is of such a nature as needs no prologue. I demand of you in direct terms, and expect a THE DIME. DIALOGUES. categorical answer, whether you wrote the piece signed Horae, - tfo in yesterday's gazette ? *Epwarp. I did. Henry, It is said by some that your pointed satire was aimed at ome, T next demand, whether that be true or not? Epwarpv My satire was not pointed but at a vice which every where prevails. And whoever says I aimed at you, or rny iudividual, asserts an impious falsehood. Hojivever, if ycu think, that any part is applicable to yourself, you are wel- come to receive it. Or, according to the proverb, “If the garment fits you, you may wear it” Henry. From various circumstances, it appears evident you aimed at me. And give me leave to tell you, you have tonched a tender point; I mean my honor. You have fixed a stain upon my character, which nothing but blood has power fo wash away. I therefore request that you choose your wea- ~ pon, appoint your place, and meet me before we sleep. Epwarp. I am ready to fight you, boasting hero, with any weapon, and at any time and place you choose. Henry. Go, then, and prepare, and meet me here with your second in half an bour. -(Hait Henry.) Epwarp. (Alone) Where has my courage fled? In spite of all my efforts, the blood chills in my veins, und my trembling limbs will scarce support me. Am I a coward, «= then? ~ No, Heaven. forbid it! Shame, honor, manhood for- bid it! When my country called me to the field of battle, when I faced the cannon’s mouth, and heard its thunder, never did I suffer a joint to tremble. Why, then, do I tremble now ? and what gave courage in such scenes of danger? That was a righteous cause, and if I fell, I fell where duty called me. If my present cause be good, why tremble? “If bad, why am I engaged in it? Some secret whisperer tells me to forbear. But ah! itis too late. I have accepted the challenge, and now I can’t go back. Oh Heaven, direct me! Heaven, did I say! T have already renounced Heaven. Must I perish, then ? No; I will have courage to be called a coward. I will refuse _ to fight, and hazard the consequences. All the ignominious _ epithets the world can heap upon me will never half equal the a pormenting stings ofa wounded conscienze, (Enter Sane “THE DUELIST. Henry. You are come in time; but where is your second, air, and where your arms? : Epwarp. Arms anda second I need not. Can not this cause be settled on some friewdly terms? Shall we presump- tuously dare to strike a blow which endless ages never can re- trieve ? Henry: Coward, dastard! poor, faint-hearted wretch! I despise you from my soul, and spurn-you from my presence, Epwarp. Had I not reasons of eternal weight to keep my temper, I fear you would stand in danger. But you have no- thing to fear; for I have resolved to lay aside revenge and fly to reason. You may call me what you please, dastard or coward, I condemn myself in terms the most severe, for be- ing so weak, so base, as to necept your mad proposal. It is not courage, my friend, to dare Omnipotence ; it is downright presumption. True courage is never to be found in rash ad- ventures; nor can that be called honor which arms one friend against another in a private quarrel. I tremble when I think what a precipice I have escaped. Henry. Edward, you have touched mein the nicest point. You have disgraced my name, and I will not bear it. My heart is fixed upon revenge, and I am resolved to have it. Epwarp. If I have wronged you, the law is open; take what satisfaction that will give you. Henry. The Jaw seldom does justice in such a case rt this, - Epwarp. I yield to the jaw, and shall be content with whatever satisfaction that will give you. But if you are not suited with that, and still are bent upon revenge, strike at this heart ; plunge your dagger into this bosom. My heart’s blood shall run freely; but my conscience I ean not violate. Henry. Go, scoundrel; if you will not give me satisfies _ tion in the only way ‘weidol honor dictates, expect to feel the horsewhip, when there are none to help you, or be B Se Wit- nesses. Epwarp, That we defend ourselves when we are assaulted, is nature’s law. Be it known to you, I heed not your threats ; ‘nor shall [ ever take one step more or less to avoid you, And if you, like a ruffian, attack me, and I do not ——- — myself, then call me coward. THE DIME DIALOGUES. — ? - Henry. Edward, you must be sensible that you have in jured me, and ought to make me satisfaction, I ask for no. thing but what is honorable. And, since we have gone thus 3 far, if we now refuse to fight, the world willscall us both cow- ik ards; and who can endure it ? EDWARD. Is this your courage, then ? What! afraid to bear, for a few days, the scoffs and sneers of knaves and fools! How will you dare to meet your final Judge? to be tried by : Him before assembled worlds, and then condemned to eyer- eth Be tasting woe? I am not conscious of the least design to do you wrong; but this [ own with shame and deepest sorrow, that I listened in the least degree to your desperate proposal of arming myself to shed your blood. But I now declare, that I hold in utter detestation and foul abhorrence, the say- age custom of deciding quarrels by murderous dueling. Henry. My friend, you have convinced me. Give me your hand. Iown my fault, and must acknowledge you to be a man of real courage. I admire your firmness, and con- fess that it is a barbarous custom which stamps this cruel practice with the name of honor. My friend, you have pre- served my life; and language is too feeble to express the grateful sensations of my heart for such a kindness. (Zzit.) THE TRUE PHILOSOPHY. FOR sIX OR-MORE FEMALES AND TWO MALES es. (Enter Mrs. Oates, a country dame.) Mrs. O. Well, well, did 1 ever! Here’s a letter from daddy, sayin’ that our Nance has graduated—which means, I ee spose, gone clean through the hull bill—an’ is comin’ home E with flyin’ colors—which means some new-fiingled head-gear, I spose. Nance always was a smart one, an’ when ber uncle Benjy axed her to the city to go with his gals to school, he kaowed what’s ‘what. Daddy, like an old guse (g 00ne} gin her a full p’us’ (purse), an’ 1 s’pose told her to go it an’ not be behind Benjy’s guls—that’s his way. Daddy always was proud, an’ ] sometimes wonder, when I come to think it all over, THE TRUE PHILOSOPHY, what im creation he married me for, seein’ as how I'd never been to schule much, an’ didn’t know nothin’ of the flubdubs of society, like as He did. I know I was pooty when he shined up to me, an’ we've been right down agreeable to one another ever since the first day I was Mrs. Oates, for daddy is a good mian-—an honest man ef ever thar was one, albeit he does floor the preacher sometimes in an argyment, an’ does keep a span of fast hosses. Whew / how them hosses. can go! Blest ef they dicn’t whip the ribbons riglit off my bonnet last Sanday when daddy jist “took an airing,” as he called it, an’ let ’em went. The fences looked jist like two clothes-lines, an’ Be- mases barn jist turned right over-as we passed by. ‘Well, as I was sayin’ (pauses)—what was I talkin’ about? About daddy—ch yes! As I was sayin’: the barn turned right over —it didn’t of course, but jist seemed so—an’ the— |. There! If this isn’t the very day for daddy to come. What an old guse I be,to be sure! This letter has been four days a-comin’, | an’ daddy’s to be here this blessed noon. Noon? I declare ef it ain’t noon now, an’ here I’ve stood chatterin’ like a blue- _ jay. Hark! Ef he hain’t come then J ain’t Mrs. John =_— ‘that’s all. Til go— {Enter a whole bevy of girls, among them Miss Nancy Oates, her cousins BELLE, BLANCHE dnd BEKTHA, and schoolmates Mary, Loviss, Exviza, Kars, etc.) Mrs. O. Bless my soul and body | Why, Nance, why gals, why daddy-——where’s daddy ?—who be you all ? Nancy. Dear mamma, here we are! In the dear old home again! (Kisses her mother, at which all the girls rush upon her and kiss her tumultuously, amid her exclamations of “ Lordy !” “ Merey !” “Who be you 2” ete., etc.) Mrs. O, There, there, gals! Are you goin’ to eat me up alive? Such a flock, to be sure! (They dof their hats and cloaks.) ' Where did you all come from? Just like daddy! I might ‘av’ known he'd brought the hull town. Somethin’s wp, sure! Gris. Ha! ba! ha! Who is daddy? Mr. Oates? Mrs. 0. Afister Oates is daddy, to be sure! But, laws me, arky: don’t you tcli me who you all be, an’ what you're | ~~ goin’ to do, an’— Naxey. Dear mawma, these are my schoolmates. I did e THE DIME DIALOGUES. : go want them to come to the country, and papa said, “ Invite the whole tribe”; so here we are! Here are cousins Belle, Blanche and Bertha— Mrs.O, You don’t say! Powerful glad to see you, chits! Hlow’s your mammy and Benjy ? : BeLue. Well, and send love. They are coming after us in a week, and, aunty, we want you to let us do just as we please—to ride the horses— Buancne. Drive the oxen. Bertua. Hunt chickens’ eggs. Mary. Climb the trees. Louise. Stone the swallows’ nests. Eniza. Wade in the brook. Kare. Swing on the gates. Mrs. O. Did I ever!. No I never! If you don’t beat all! Why, I'll go e’ena’most crazy. Daddy’s up to some of his pranks, I know, but, I'll not have it—that I won't! Grrts. Come, hurrah! Now for the barn, for the milk- house, for the chicken-coop. (Hvit all but Nancy and BELLE.) Mrs. O. What a set, to be sure! What possessed daddy to bring such a raft? Why, Nance, where in creation are they all to sleep ? Nancy. Sleep! What an idea! Can’t we all have the big front room and all lie on the floor ? © BELLE. Ob, thavll be jolly! Say yes, aunty. Mrs. O. An’ who'll feed ye, ye young Injuns ? a> Nancy. Feed us! Well, if that isn’t a joke! With the cellar full, and the pantry full, and the milk-room fall, and ali the preserves, and the garden full, and the two hundred chick- ens, and the flock of sheep— Mrs. O. We'll need ’em all, with you young wildcats. ‘ - (Enter Kare, with w huge pumpkin.) Kats. See, girls, what a big apple Lhave found! Wha_ ever saw the like? - : (Enter Eviza, with a pitehfork.) See, girls, what a funny hair-pin I have found !. But, whats the use ef so much stick to it? (Huter Louise, with a log-chain.) saga Lovuisz. Oh, girls, what a splendid chain! Why, it’s bige get than Tiffany’s best jeis! I's] wear it to%church. ; THE TRUE PHILOSOPHY, A) (Enter Many, with. a bright new tin pan.) s Mary. What a superb mirror, girls! I found it out on the stones. It glistens like a diamond. NANoey. a are Bertha and Blanche ? f , Mary. Oh, Berty got on a little woolly horse in the field, and she’s riding him-all around, and Blanche is chasing such ik w big, big chicken around the yard, who keeps eee. Gob- ble! gobble! gobble!” Mrs. O. If daddy don’t rue the day he ever brought such a drove of madcaps from the city ! (Girls showing each other their captures.) Here, you Miss Kate, that’s no apple; that’s a punkin—jist what your head is, I guess. Kare. A pumpkin! Is it possible? (Carries the pump- kin out in disgust.) : Mrs. O. And you, Miss Eliza, that’s not a hair-pin, but a fork for pitching hay, ; s Eciza. A pitchfork? Bah! (Curries tt out.) Mrs. O. And, Miss Louise, that’s the Jog-chain you've > got —used to draw logs with. Louise. The lug-chain? Ob, dear! T thought it was a lady’s chain grown big by cultivation. (Drags it out.) Mrs. 0. Tutor. Let us preserve our minds in a disposition to en- joy the good things Heaven sends us, and we shall be able to support the evil, when il comes, with sane and compo- sure, Purm. But we can not always command our tempers ; much depends on the constitution; and when the boiy i * = pain, the mind can not be at ease, ‘ Turor. Allow it to be a natural disease of the mind, Pe be discomposed by untoward events; but is there no reeone for it? May not much be done by prudence and resolt TUE LAW OF NUMAN KINDNESS. toward curing it? Tll-humor may be compared to sloth. It is natural to men to be indolent; but-if once they get the better of indolence, they exert themselves with alacrity, and - action becomes a real pleasure. Puriz. But we are not masters of ourselves; our feelings overpower our reason, and even make us neglect our interest. You may as well advise milk not to turn sour by being ex-_ posed to the sun, or the sensitive plant not to shrink from the touch, as the mind of man to be-unruffled by cross accidents, and his appearance to be calm and cheerful when he suffers insults, injuries, or pain. Tutor. Say not what our strength will effect till we have ‘tried it. Do not the sick consult physicians, submit to scru- pulous regimen, and the most nauseous medicines, to recover their health? Why neglect the more pernicious disorders of. the mind? Why not use more diligence and care to cure them? What quality is more desirable than good-humor ? | ~ “Tt adds charms to virtue, and even lessens the hatefulness of vice. It is essential to social happiness ; and when we choose a companion, whether for an lrour or a year, for the journey of a day or the journey of life, good- humor is a principal re- _ quisite, Purt. I acknowledge its excellence. It is yalnable in brute animals; it pleases even in a domestic cat or dog; and good temper is one of the best qualities in a horse, which no beauty of shape, color, or eyes can supply. How much more * amiable is it in a fellow-being! But what methods can you prescribe for obtaining and preserving it? Perhaps I may be come a proficient, if not an adept in this art. Tutor. Cultivate benevolent dispositions. Accustom ~ yourself to turn your mind from deformed and painful objects to scenes of moral and natural beauty. Think how unre ‘son- able and cruel is ill-humor, Is it not enough that. we are without the power to make’another happy, but must we de- prive him of the satisfaction, which, ifmleft to himself, he is frequently capable of enjoying ? It is often mean and con- temptible. When a man is in ill-humor, why does he not hide it, anc bear the burden of it himself, without interrupting - the pleasure of others? “Because he is conscious of wanting worth, is fall of that envious discontent which foolish vanity THE DIME DIALOGUES. produzes, and dislikes to see people happy unless their hap: ; piness is his own work. % Purm. Despicable meanness indeed! What punishment does he not deserve, who, from such motives, uses his power over a human heart to rob it of that rea] pleasure, which it would naturally enjoy ! Tutor. Often, by such a cruel tyranny, the peace of a tendér and delicate mind is so deeply wounded, that every favor, and every possible attention afterward, can not heal it; domestic sweets are embittered, and moral misconduet ensues. Puri. Henceforth, then, I will each day inquire what good I can render, and what evil avert from my friends. If, when their minds are tormented by violent passion or over- whelmed in deep distress, I can not give them relief, I can at least endeavor not to interrupt them in their pleasures; and if I can not augment my own happlncary I may avoid dimin- ishing theirs. Turor. Mrs. G. Yes, my dear, what are you reading? Mrs, Thompson. I ufien teach my children beautifid pieces to say fo their fathee when he comes home at night. How delighted ke is to hear them! Bub, what is it you are reading ? Jounxy. About the birds, ma’am. : Mrs. G. Won't you read it for me, my dear? Mus. T. Read it for the lady, Johnny. Jeunny. (Reads -) re THE BIRDS, ‘* Let us go,”’ said the little wren, “From the kateful homes of these: northern men : My nose is rod, ny feet aré bine, THE DIME DIALOGUES, And I fear I have caught the consumption, teo,”” “Oh, yes! let us go,” sung a little chippit, * Or my little young can scarcely trip it ; Each one has a terrible cold in his head, For they’re almost frozen to death in their bed.” “Yes, yes, let us go,’’ said a pert young robin, Whose teeth were chattering and head was bobbing. j Let us go, let us go,” chirped a chattering jay, ; “It is growing cold, let us start away.” So each one took up a worm in his mouth, And off they flew to the sunny south. James. I know a piece, too, Mrs. G. That is right, my dear; say it for the lady JAMES. (Sings -) Little drops of water, little grains of sand, Make a muddy puddle on the nice clean land. Mrs. G. How cunning he is! But I always say that he will make a smart man. Come, my daughters; won’t you sing for Mrs. Thompson r Tam sure that she would like to hear you. Mrs. T. I should cones it very:-much. Satim, Mary, and Susi. No, we don’t want to. ANNIE. Ob, yes, come on; let us sing like we did the ether day! (They stand up, put their hands behind them nd swaying from side to side, sing in a drawling way :) Old dog Tray is ever faithful, 4 Beef can not drive him away; He’s bob-tailed and he’s blind, And his tail hangs down behind, And he wags it back and forward every day. Susie and Mary. There now! we won't sing any mora ‘ until we have some cake. Tuomas and Jamrs. Cake! cake! ANNIE. I want some cake, too. (She hands to Mrs. GREEN and the girls first.) you hand it to me first ? James. Golly! what a little piece! I mean to - two: . Susi. Mam ' Mary stele my penny. Mrs. T. Julia, bring that plate of cake from the pantry. Tuomas. Oh, Sallie Greén! you big pig, you took, the largest piece—the very one I wanted. I say, sis, why didn’t ee “SPOILED CHILDREN. Many. No,I didn’t; J only took it for fear she sight toe it. T will buy some candy and give her half. Satur. Mam! mam! come, go home, I am tired. Mrs. G. Yes, my dear, in a moment. Mrs. Thomps- my children are so full of life that it is impossible for thenr to content themselves in the quiet, humdrum way in which your children live. I often tell Mr. Green that they surely will . make famoug men and women. I am. going to take them to - Professor Wykoff, the great phrenologist, to have their heads ' examined, so that I can understand better how 2 train them, Won't you come, too ? Mrs. T. No, I thank you; both my husband and myself think that the home circle develops the disposition freely enough to guide a parent in training a child. Mrs. G. Too old fogy ! too old fogy by half! Why, Mrs. Thompson, if you bring ‘up your children in this old-fashioned way, they will never make the brilliant figures in the world that mine will! Now, my Thomas already shows a decided taste for—why, what are you doing, James ? James. Nothing to you, old poke. Just stop your talking and come home, won't you ? Mary. Yes, mam, come home. Mrs. G. Well, I must go. My children are naturally of _ active and inquiring dispositions, and can not be contented | long in one place. Well, if you won’t come with me, I must go alone, Good-by, Mrs. Thompson; do bring your children around to see me. Good-by, my dears. Mrs. T. Good-day, madam. Littne Thompsons. Good-by, ma’am, < Lirtte GREENs. Good-by! Pot-pie! Hope you'll swing before you die! (Hat Mrs. Green and children.) Mrs. T. Come, children, it is time to go and meet your father. (Hzit Mrs. Tuompson and children.) Scene Il.—Znter Prov. Wysorr, with books and vials, which _ he arranges on the table. A knock at the door, Mrs. GREEN~ and children enter. ; Pror. WYkorF.. Good-afiernoon, madam. Fine weather we are enjoying. Whata promising set of children you have THE DIME DIALOGUES. That eldest boy, in partiular, = a fine development of the intellectual lobe. Tuomas. Here, now, mister, you don’t bump my head, not if I know it. Mrs. G. Dear me! Professor, the children have such ex- sitable, nervous temperaments; a mark of genius, you know. Pror. W. Oh, yes, madam, certainly. Mrs. G. Now, Annie, my dear, you sit down and have your head-examined first, and you shall wear my new breast- pin to church next Sunday. Anniz. Well, I guess I will—just for fun. (Sits in chair.) Pror. W. Remarkably fine bead, madam, remarkably fine. Individuality, six plus— Annig. Look out there, mister! That is where I bumped my head falling down-stairs, and it is sore. Pror. W. Certainly, certainly; I shall be very careful. Here is In’abitiveness six, Alimentiveness seven, and Combat- iveness six plus— ANNIE. Get out there! You are telling lies. I have not any of those things the matter with my head. (Springs from the chair.) Pror. W. This is a fine little fellow. What is your name, my little man? What is your name? (Heeling James’ head.) James. Pudding Vane, and I live next to you down the lane; and J ain’t your man neither, you old scarecrow. Pror. W. Won't you let me examine your head ? JAMES. Can’t see it, and you need not try it, or Pll seratch you. Golly! but Iam a rouser on the scratch t Pror. W. This little girl will, I know. Mary. No, she won't, either. (Zhe boys commence to play with the bottles.) Pror. W. Look out there, ave Stop meddling, or you may do some damage, JAMES and Tuomas, We won't stop, and you can’t make _ Pror. W. You had better stop. There is danger—(One of the bottles falls down and breaks.) _ James and Tyomas. ~ Look out, girls. There will be an explosion, (They all rush out.) Mrs. = Really, Professor, you ipuet excuse the children. h r i They are so high-strung that they can not bear-ary excite- ment. I must follow them and see that they do not get run over. TI will bring them again some other afternoon. Q@ood- day, sir. Pror. W. Good-day, madam, (Beit all in some confusion.) What a tribe, to be sure. If these children grow up as they have begun, the worlkt will be none the better for their having lived. And yet that poor mother don’t see their faults! 'Thé fact is, very few mothers are fit to be such; and their unfit- ness is the secret of so many bad people in this world. My science can determine what a head is by nature; but no hu- map perception can determine what a boy or girl is going to make under the influence of bad government and improper associations. Heigho! I sometimes think my science ‘is a humbug, when I know how much circumstances have to do in making the man or woman. Heigho! (Zzit.) ~». PASSAGES FROM SHAKSPEARE, L—BRUTUS AND CASSIUS.’ For two boys. ; [Every exhibition ought to introduce one or more dramatic recitations or — _ representations from the great poet's creations, not only becanse of their intrinsic beauty, but to give the students that exercise in classic decia- mation so essential to style and force in oratory. In these recitations or dramatic episodes, the speakers ought to be dressed in the Roman oga.} Cas. That you have wronged me, doth. appear in this: You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella For taking bribes here of the Sardians ; Wherein my letter—praying on his ide, Because I know the man—was slighted of. Bru. You wronged yourself to write in such a case, Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet - ‘That every nice offense should-bear its comment. Bro. Yet let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself — » Are much condemned to have an itching palm ; en St To sell and- mart your offices for gold » eynodDy fo undeservers.. * 9 OED 101 VOY eu te Cas. Ian itching palm! Meigen ste yoy ns0W THE DIME DIALOGUES. You know that you are Brutus that speak this; Or, by the gods! this speech were else your last. Bro. The name of Cassius honors this corruption, And chastisement doth therefore hide its head. Cas. Chastisement! Bru. Remember March, the Ides of March remember! Did not great Julius bleed for justice’ sake ? What! Shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world, But for supporting robbers—shall we now Jontaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honors For so much trash as may be grasped thus ? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon, Then such a Roman. Cas. Brutus, bay not me; Til not endure it. You forget yourself, To hedge me in; I am a soldier Older in practice, abler than yourself To make conditions, Bru. Go to! you are not, Cassius. Cas. Iam. ; Bru. I say you are net. Cas. Urge me no more; I shall forget myself. H ve mind upon your health! Tempt me no further. - Bru. Away, slight man! : Cas. — Is’t possible ? * Gru. Hear me, for I will speak. Mst I give way and room to your rash choler? Srall I be frightened when a madman stares ? Cas. Must I endure all this? Bru. Allthis!ay, more. Fret till your proud heart break; Go, show your slaves how choleric you are, 3S And make your bondsmen tremble. Must I budge ? Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch Under your testy humor? By the gods! : Yow shail digest the venom of your spleen, Though it do split you; for, from this day forth _ _ ‘Tl use you for my mirth, yea, for my aie Wiaen you are waspish, Cas. Is it come to this? Bru. You say you are 2 better soldier : Let it appear so ; make your vaunling true, And it shall please me well. For mine own part, I shall be glad to learn of noble meu. Cas. You wrong me every way—vu0 wrong me, B.’ us, I said an elder soldier, not a better, Did I say better? Bru. If you did, I care not. Cas. When Cesar lived, he durst not thns have moves! .na Bru. Peace, peace! You durst not so have servpad Ulm Cas. I durst not! ; Bru. No. Cas.. What! durst not tempt him ? Bru. For your life you curst not. Cas. Do not presume too much upon my love; I may do that I shall be sorry for. Bru. You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats For I am armed so strong in honesty That they pass by me as the idle wind, Which I respect not. I did send to you For certain sums 6f gold, which you denied me; For I can raise no money by vile means. By heavens! ~I had rather coin my beart, _ And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring From.the hard hands of peasants their vile eer By any indirection. I did send To you for gold to pay my legions, Which yoydenied me! Was that done like Cassius ? Should I have answered Caius Cassius so ? ; When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous, To lock such rascal counters from his friends, _ Be ready, gods! with all-your thunderbolts— Dash him in pieces. % Cas. I denied you not. Bru. You did, Cas. I did not. He was a fool — Ynat brought my answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart! ak Beat should pane a friend's infirmities ; But Brutus makes mine greater than they are. Bru. I do not. Still you practice them on me, Cas. You love me not, Bro. I do not like your faults. Cas. A friendly eye could never see such faults. Bru. A flatterer’s would not, though they did appear As huge as high Olympus. Cas. Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come ; Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius— For Cassius is a-weary of the world. Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother ; Checked like a bondman; all his fiults observed, Set in a note-book, learned and conned by rote, To cast into my teeth, Oh, I could weep My spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger, And here my naked breast—within, a heart Dearer than Plutus’ mine, richer than gold ; Tf that thou need’st a Roman’s, take it forth] ~ ] that denied thee gold will give my heart. S:rike! as thou didst at Ceesar; for T know Whien thou didst hate him worse, thou loy’dst him better Than even thou lov’dst Cassius, s Bru. Sheathe your dagger. Be angry when you will, it shall have scope ; Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor, Cas. Hath Cassius lived To be but mirth and laughter to his Bratus, Whien grief and blood ill-lempered vexeth him ? Bru. When I spoke that, I was ill-tempered too. Cas. Do you confess so much? Give me your hand Bru. And heart too. IL—CORIOLANUS AND AUFIDIUS. For two boys. Cor. I plainly, Tullus, by your looks, perceive You disapprove my conduct. Aur. I mean not to assail thee with the clamor Of loud reproaches, and the war of words; But, pride apart, and all that can pervert The light of steady reason, here to make A candid, fair proposal. Cor. Speak; I hear thee. Aur. I need not tell thee, that I have performed My utmost promise. Thou has been protected! Hast had thy amplest, most ambitious wish ; Thy wounded pride is healed, thy dear revenge Completely sated ; and, to crown thy fortune, At the same time, thy peace with Rome restored. Thou art no more a Volscian, but a Roman ; Return, return; thy duty cails upon thee Still to protect the city thou bast saved ; It still may be in danger from our arms: 5 ‘ Retire ; I will take care thou may’st with safety. ~Cor. With safety !—Heavens !—and think’st thou Corio. lanus Will stoop to thee for safety 9—No! my safeguard Is in myself, a bosom void of fear.— i Oh, ’tis an act of cowardice and baseness, To seize the very time my hands are fettered By the strong chain of former obligations, The safe, sure moment to insult me.—Gods! Were I now free, as on that day I was, When at Corioli I tamed thy pride, This had not been. Avr. Thou speak’st the truth; it had not. Oh, for that time again! propitious gods, ; If you will bless me, grant it! Know for that, For that dear purpose, I have now proposed Thon should’st return ; I pray thee, Marcius, do it; And we shall meet again on nobler terms. Cor. Till I have cleared my honor in your council, - And proved before them all, to thy confusion, The falsehood of thy charge; as soon in battle _ I would before thee fly, and howl for mercy, As quit the station they’ve assigned me here. ’ Aur. Thou canst not hope acquittal from the Volsciana — Cor. I do:—Nay, more, expect their approbation, | Their thanks, I will obtain them such a peace * THE DIME DIAL GUUS. As thou durst never ask ; a perfect union Of their whole nation with imperial Rome, In all her privileges, all her rights ; By the just gods, I will— What wouldst thou more? Aur. — What would I more, proud Roman? This I would— Fire the cursed forest, where these Roman wolves Haunt and infest their nobler neighbors round them ; Extirpate from the bosom of this land A false, perfidious people, who, beneath The mask of freedom, are a combination Against the liberty of human kind— The genuine seed of outlaws and of robbers. Cor. The seed of gods!—’Tis not for thee, vain boaster— "Tis not for such as thou—so often spared By her victorious sword, to speak of Rome, But with respect, and awful veneration— Whate’er her blots, whate’er her giddy factions, There is more virtue in one single year Of Roman story, than your Volscian annals Can boast through all their creeping, dark duration. _ Aur. I thank thy rage:—-This full displays the traitor. Cor. Traitor !—How now ? Aur, Ay, traitor, Marcius. Cor. Marcius! = Aur. Ay, Marcius, Caius Marcius: dost thou think _ Tl grace thee with that robbery, thy stolen name - Coriolanus, in Corioli? You lord, and heads o’ the state, perfidivusly He has betrayed your business, and given up, For certain drops of salt, your city Rome,— I say, your city,—to his wife and mother; Breaking his oath and resolution, like A twist of rotten silk ; never admitting - Counsel o’ the war; but at his nurse’s tears He whined and roared away your victory, - That pages blushed at him, and men of heart Looked wondering at each other. Cor. Hear’st thou, Mars ? Aur. Name not the god, thou boy of tears. Measureless liar! thou hast made wy heass Too great for what contains it—Boy! Cut me to pieces, Volscians ; men and lads, Stain all your edges on me.—Boy !— If you have writ your annals trne, ’tis true That like an eagle in a dovecot, I Fluttered your Volscians in Corioli! Alone I did it:—Boy !—But let us part ; Lest my rash hand should do a hasty deed My cooler thought forbids. Avr. I court The worst thy sword can do: while thou from me Hast nothing to expect but sore destruction ; Quit then this hostile camp ; once more I tell thee, Thou art not here one single hour in safety. Cor. Oh, that I had thee in the field, With six Aufidiuses, or more, thy tribe, To use the lawful sword. THE NEW SCHOLAR, A DIALOGUE FOR GIRLS. Speakers : Evetyn Ives, the New Scholar. Saprina, Kare, Srevia, Lavra, Axion, NeLLiz VANE, all school-girls from fourteen to fifleen years of age. Eminy Ruopes and a little girl. Scenze.—School-room at noon. Kate, ALIcE, SABRINA, STELLA and LAuRA, with their lunch-baskets, grouped about a os Sucing the audience, 2 Kate (spreading a napkin on a corner of the table, and taking her dinner from the basket). Girls, why didn’t we think to in- vite the newzscholar to join us ? i ee SaBRina (shrugging her shoulders). For my part, I like - know who a body is, before making any such advances, - (Enter behind them Evenyn-Ivxs, the new scholar.) Kate. I’m sure she looks very ladylike. Srefita. You can’t always judge by looks. There is tl THE DIME DIALOGUES. - odious Emily Rhodes, who looks so pretty and interesting, and her mother was once a washerwoman. : Auice. Emily Rhodes is one of the finest scholars in the school. s Laura. That’s somewhat a matter of opinion, and has nothing to do with the subject in question. I was asking pa this morning if he knew any one‘in the city by the name of Ives, and he said that some years ago he knew a Mr. Ives who was a millionaire. EVELYN Ives (coming to the front of the platform and bowing with mock politeness to the girls, who are surprised at seeing her). _ Young ladies, since you are so much interested An my antece- _ dents, I take it upon myself to inform you that my father is not living, that I reside on Duck Alley with my dearold grand- father, who is a porter, and that my dear mother does fine i sewing. (Enter a little Girl.) LirtLe Girt. Please, Miss Ives, the teacher wants see you in the recitation room, : (Exit Evewyn and the little Girl. ) Sasrina. Horrible. - STELLA (holding up her hands). I don’t see how she ever had the face to tell it. ‘Kate. _ She must have overheard your remarks. Sasrina Who cares? the bold-faced upstart. Kare. Bold-faced ? that’s what [ call true courage. I, for ene, shall be’proud to win her friendship. Saprina. You can do as you please, Kate Somerville, but I can tell you that I am not going to shaking hands <= aay porter’s daughter. coe - Avice. Why not, if her hands are clean ? : _ Srevua. Dear me, Alice, you are so “@UBEPY” Wh WAYS"\so- ‘ciety ranks us accordingtosthe:vankrof thoseswiths wand we associate; sand: if'mieimake companions of gitlsowhose parents re porters and sewing-womesi pofreourses it: WiH. nampa pibe pposed that;wembelébg torthevsdmesdlassiyow ils) anigaead - KarpousShe certainly: dresses: nicely buough fon: anysorieigt SapRoaise: Rutlet toovnicely;: Toshould hsaysd Sika presses a eenncerae jmuiidketchiefs: for! aiseamstresd’s daugiter ryiiichdike!pottingajeuirats tuo sok = actar’ ARTA) bap Laura. She’ sa sla little piece. Any. one can pot ae SABRINA. Don’t you think that the way she puts up her : hair is perfectly horrid ? aes Sretia. Oh, I suppose she thinks it makes her look antl. Have you noticed how red her cheeks are? I shouldn't be surprised if she’ paints. a Kats, No wonder her checks are red, with so many in- quisitive eyes staring at her incessantly. a Autce. She is a remarkably fine reader. Laura. I believe Alice finds something to praise in every- body. % Kare. Isn’t that ean than being on the look-out for one’s failings? Id much rather be like the old lady in ne, story than to be a perpetual faultfinder. Sasrrna. Do Jet us hear the story! Tue oTHERS. Yes, yes, let us hear it. Kate. There was once a dear old lady. who delighted in finding out every one’s best traits. _ Her granddaughter, speak=_ ing of her to a friend, one day, remarked, ‘I do believe grand- — ma would find a good word to say for Satan himself” The — old lady, chancing to enter the room at that moment, at once — replied: “Certainly, my dear children, if we all had Satan's — Ee energy and perseverance, we should be much surer of success in life.” Z Lavra. From which we are to infer that Evelyn ine not- withstanding the unfortunate fact that she has a porter for her) grandfather and a seamstress for her mother, ne still be the © possessor of some good traits, (Enter NELLIE Tira) Neti. Oh, girls, I do wish you could have seen whatg ag beauty of a carriage called for Evelyn Ives! and she took Emily Rhodes with her, Saprina. Carriage? Why, Nell, of what are you thinks ing? Her grandfather, with whom she lives, is nothing the world but a porter. Neu. A porter! of course he is, He is A. W. Porter the wealthiest banker in the city. Sasra. Now, Nell, you are only talking! She said herself that they lived on Duck Alley, cud her mother did fine sewin NELLE (laughing). Why, my dear girls, she lives in one of those elegant marble fronts in Park Row. Duck Alley de- - rives its name from the fact that two sensible old ducks wad- dle through it every day on their way to the lake; and as for her mother’s fine sewing, if you want a specimen of it, you can examine the embroidery on Evelyn’s handkerchiefs. (ALICE and Kare laugh ; the others look dismayed.) STetua. Here’s a pretty kettle of fish ! Lavra. What shall we do? Saprina, I shall never dare to look her in the face again. > Sretia. Here she comes this very minute ! Autce. “ Speaking of the angels, you hear the rustle of their wings.” Laura. I think the best we can do is to ask the angel’s - pardon. Saprina. Then we'll deputize you to ask it for us all. \ (Enter EVELYN Ives and Emity Raopes.) . Laura (stepping forward and extending her hand). My dear Miss Ives, I hope you will forgive our seeming rudeness. I _ assure you it arose entirely froma misunderstanding in regard to your position. * : EVELYN (not seeming to notice the extended hand). I lave nothing to forgive, young ladies. I consider myself no more deserving of your esteem than I should be were my grand-~ _ father’s occupation the same as his name. My good mother _ taught me always to respect worth, whether riches accompa- nies it or not; consequently I have chosen Emily Rhodes for | may seat-mate, and we have come to ask Kate Somerville and Alice Fleetwood to ride with us. I am sorry there is not room for all, and yet (bowing to Sreuua, Saprina, and Laura) 1 - should hardly presume to ask the others to ride with a por- ‘ters granddaughter. (Kare and ALICE rise to aecompany | them, and the curtain fails.) . it ib e i. ie THE SELF-MADE MAN. FOR THREE MALES, Characters : Diamond, Dr. Passmore’s steward. Largins, half-brother to the doctor. SPINAGE, tn search of a situation as teacher. Sorxru—The waiting-room of Dr. Passmore’s Academy. s¥AMOND. How do you feel to-day, Larkins? : panxins. I don’t fecl in a rushing humor at all; I feel Inge going to bed. - Diamond. Bad. If you.would only let liquor alone, Larkins. i : ; Larxrns. Lend me some money, Diamond. Diamonp. Lend you money? NotI. You areaspend-— thrift, tarkins; Lsay it if you are the doctor’s half- brothey, and I ony his pateast Larkins. Well, iet’s change the subject. Only one more week of tne vacation, Diamond, and then you'll be footing it in the treaa-mili—work, work, work. The doctor will have a bie schoo: next session, I hear. DiamMonp, Im glaa of it. Largs. You are a-queer fellow. I wouldn’t be glad of it if T were you. é ‘ Diamonv. hi i were you I would reform at once. ee LARKINS. Returm!’ Why I shouldn’t know my old self +a under that figure. (es :) “Should aud acquaintance be forgot?” No, not if they have money. a Dramonp. Larkins, you ought to take care of yourself a and let liquor alone. Gwners of rosy noses ought ever to be careful; “Death loves a snming mark.”. It is a pleasant — thing to see the roses and ifhes on a TUNE. lady’s cheek, but — it isa very bad sign to see a young man’s face break out in — blossoms. Ihave read larery tnat a red nose is the light- house to warn us of the Jittie water tiat passes underneath it, and of the shoals of appetite on which we are in danger — of being wrecked. : Larxis. Oh bother What's the se? You lecture a eee , hone THE DIME DIALOGUES. fellow too lard now, Diamond. There’s such a thing as be coming too wise fur one’s station. Iunderstand you go about picking up all the odds and ends of education that lie around here in this knowledge-factory. Now look at me! I’ve had an education, but precious little good has it done me. DramMonD. The more shame to you. Education is too choice a thing te throw away pon a worthless life. Educa- tion is the great want of the age, Larkins. 3 Largins. I don’t agree with you. The great want of the age is want of funds. I am out of money. I am seri- ously thinking of raising some by pawning my watch. That would be raising money with a lever, wouldn’t it ? Diamond. I'll show you a trick worth two of that. Save money by turning over a new leaf, and keeping yourself in the path of rectitude. Larxrms. The path of rectitude! I haven’t seen that path for a long time. Guess it must have run to grass. Diamoyrp. Very likely. You have been sowing your wild oats there probably. (Enter SPINAGE.) Sprvace. (Zo DiaMonpD, drawing a newspaper from his pocket.) This is Dr. Passmore,I reckon. My name is Spin- age. Doctor,I have seen in this newspaper an advertisement of your school, and being as you’re about to make another start next week, I came all the way from our place to offer myself asa teacher. In so big a school as this you want a lot of teachers, I reckon. (DiaMonD and Larrys exchange winks.) Dramonp. Oh, certainly. What branches of education do you teach ? Sprvace. All of ’em, and the roots too; square root, cube root, and all. Laruiys. Rhetoric and Natural Philosophy, I suppose. SprnaGeE. Well, it’s a poor teacher that with a new-fingled study can’t run a leetle way ahead of his class. As the say- ing is, it’s a poor horse that can’t keep ahead of the wagon, as it runs down hill. My advice to my scholars is, persevere, persevere, boys; it is the only way you can become great, - Lalways go by that rule myself. For instance, the other THE SELF-MADE MAN, ae lings set before me, I made way with nine of them. The housekeeper came down stairs, and when she saw that the dumplings. were gone she raised both hands, and said, “ Mr. Spinage, what has become of all them apple dumplings ?” “JT managed to finish them, madam,” Isaid. “La,me! How did you do it?” “ By perseverance, madam,” I answered. Larkins. You seem to be a wholesale dealer in the article ; you take in dumplings by the hogshead. DramonD. Who were your parents, and what advantages have you had ? Sprnace. Well, doctor, I’ve been teaching in our place some, and I kept school in Grasstown well on to two year. You ask about my parents. Iam a self-made man, sir. I never had any parents—bardly —only just a father and mother, and they never did much for me; only just left me to fight my way along as best I could. As the saying is, “ He who depends on father gets no farther ; he w aur? waits for some- thing to turn up gets no turnips.” Diamonp. Very true. You understand Latin and Greek, T suppose. . Sprvace. No, indeed. I fit boys for a manly and useful life without any humbug about nations dead and beried two thousand yearsago. I don’t like foreign terms. ‘“ Excelsior ” I discard, and advise my boys to write on their banners the word “Soar.” It’s plain English, and it’s a glorious and inspiring word, “ Soar! | Soar!” ‘ Largins. I would recommend that a bottle of liniment be placed under it to cure the soreness, Sprnace. You're rather off the track now, I reckon. | Larkins. As you want a situation in this school, you will not object to standing an examination, I presume. Sprvace. No serious objection to that, mister, I’ve learned a heap in my day. Among other things, I have lately investigated the cause of the potato blight. : DramonD. Have you? To what do you ascribe it ? Sprnace. I think it is owing to the ro-tatory motion of the earth. Larkins, A decided genius! We had better ask him a -few questions. Where do the Poles live? : Spreace. (Puts finger to his heal.) The Poles! Ah, — i a ic THE DIME BIALOGUEE there are two of them. They live partly at one end of the world, and partly at the other. : Largins, (Laughing.) A little out of the way there, sir, Spinace. Ah, I stand corrected. _I made a mistake, I see. The P»ies—the Poles—I know now ; that’s where we go to vote, Diamonp. Very good. What is the Torrid Zone, and where is it? : Srmace. What is the Torrid Zone, and where is it? It is a great belt around the world, with a hole in it. Diamond. How do you make out that there is a hole in it ? Sprnace. Because, if it wasn’t for the hole in the hoop how could you put it on the barrel ? Diamonp. (WNods smilingly.) Who founded Greece ? Sprvace. You're too much for me there. Diamonp. It was Cecrops. é Sprvaar. Ah, yes;sea-crops. Grease and sea-crops. Sea- crops and grease. Now I see it. Sea-crops has reference to the whaling business. Sea-crops; great crops of oil made by the whales in the northern seas. That’s where grease got its first real good start. And I’ve heard, sir, that the reason why the whales inhabit the Arctic seas is, that they may be handy to the Northern Lights, which they supply with oil. Since the introduction of gas, I should like to know what’s to become of the poor whales? Z Diamond. [never thought of that, Mr. Spinage. Please tell us of what substance the tails of comets are composed. .Sprnace. The light of a comet’s tail, I should say, doctor, is nothing more than a streak of lightning, friz up. Dramonp. Spell the word hazardous, and give the defini- tion, if you please. Sprnace. H-a-z, haz; a-r-d, ard—hazard ; e-s-s, ess; haz> ardess, a female hazard. : - Dramonp. What kind of country is England? Sprmace. It isaland on which the sun never sets. It. is made up principally of land and water. es Diamonp. Are fogs frequent ? Srinace. Rather. There is some sunshine, but ‘hat comes, invariably, in the daytime. . Largs. Mr. Spinage, you are not the man for the sit mre Tides oy as a SE = - a 7 y wo see cllias ar seam p aes Ficlegee ere ee aie oT uation; I may as well tell you this at once. You stand ne_ better chance of teaching here than an elephant does of being shampooed with a thimbleful of soap- suds, Dr. Passmore doesn’t want you. SpryaceE. That depends on this gentleman, T ehotdd rather think. (Zo D1amonp.) : DraAmonpD. No, not on me. Iam only the steward of the house. Dr. Passmore is not at home; ae is out of town with his wife. > Spmvace. Ho! now that’sarealtakein. Well, that alters _ the case. I think I'll stay around here till the doctor comes home. And so, mister, yowre the steward. I say, you, din- ner hain’t nigh ready, nor nothing ? DiamonpD. Yes, dinner is about ready, but we don’t want to take up the pudding yet. We are expecting somebody to dinner. : Srrvacp. Ah, steward, delays are dangerous. Never put off to the future what can be done now. So I recommend that we attend to the pudding at once. DramMonD. You make no secret of being fond of good living, I see. . : Sprnace. I have a fairish appetite, sir; nothing more. The best hit in that line Iever made was one day last winter. We sat down to a splendid turkey, and when we arose we left nothing but the bones. : Diamond. Well done! How many were there of yout Sprvace. Only two. Diamond. Only two! Spinace. Yes, only two: myself and the turkey: Larrys. A great eater, unquestionably. . Sprnace. (Zo LaRKINS.) Well, sir, judging from appear- ances, I don’t make such a figure in eating as you Jo in drinking. Here’s something that may interest you. (Opens - the newspaper and reads.) “The celebrated Temperance Orator, Mr. Gouge, will lecture on Temperance, this evening, in the hall.” I recommend that you go and hear this Mr, Gouge. : Larxrys. Mr. what? i - Spmace. Mr. Gouge-—G-o-u-g-h, Gonge. So - Dramonp. Oh, Mr. Gough. Mr. Spinage, it is not worth oe Aves ne THE DIME DIALOGUES. while to wait for the doctor’s return this evening. My bust- ness valis me out of tbe room, sir; if you have any business in town you had better be leoking after it. - Spinace. (Rising to go.) Ihave no businessin town. 1 1 hang around in the sheds and stables till the doctor comes home. And Mr. Steward, be so good as to send me out a plate of victuals, warm or cold; and, my man, (tapping him familiarly on the shoulder,) don’t forget to put in a good slice of that pudding. : THE MAY QUEEN.—(No. 2.) Characters ¢ x“ LORA, QUEEN, SPRING, SUMMER, AUTUMN, Winter, . NyYMpuHs. ¥Vhere the entertainment partakes cf a social character, this piece will afford peculiar enjoyment. The best plan for a throne is a rustic arbor at one end of the room, presenting three arches to the audience—those on the fides smaller than the center—elevated three or four feet above the fioor Wings of evergreen should extend right and left. In the center, a large easy-chair for QUEEN; an ottoman on the right for Fiona ; care being taken to have nothing visible except evergreens and flowers. The floor may be carpeted, also the steps, which must extend beyond the side archcs, so that Frora and Seasons, in ascending the throne, will not pass in front of QUEEN. : A little thought and practice will soon suggest the best marching figures, which will depend, in a great measure, upon the size of room, the place of entrance, and the number of performers. The simplest march is to enter, single file, on the side next to throne, doubling as the last enters. As the double file reaches the further end, they form a circle, the rear half doing the same; march, in good time,.one revolution ; they then continue dir :ct march until all are in line; form letter S circle again, and as they come - round, if properly drilled, the semici aele will be formed as directed in the opening scene. Costumes.—F Lora, rich crown of scat a wreath, light and graceful, of evergreen and flowers, from right shoulder, fastening to left side of waist, and hanging to knee; girdle of rosebads around waist, hauging, im front, half as far as wreath; scepter, a white lily-stalk in bleom, ora ealla, is pretty; there should be sprigs of evergreen tacked to the lower part of the skirt. The Seasons should have light coronets, with emblematic trimmings; taat of Sprive, buds; Simmer, wheat-heads: AuTUMN, russet leaves, of have skirt trimmed ; moss is most appropriate for Winter. TRE MAY QUEEN. - grapes ; Winer, crystallized grasses, or giass, to reprezent ice. All should All the other girls. as Nympas, wearing wreathe, according to taste, : The ptece should be performed at night, to produce the full effect; and d tring the performance, all the lights should be so arranged as to fall upon the throne and group. Be careful not to have the emblems and trimmings of you: characters too heavy, and avoid all jewelry. Every dress must be white. Fora ard the QUEEN are usually elected by ballot, and every one should endeavor to elect those best qualitied to act and recite their parts. Fiora thould be taller than Queen, if a difference exists, The QuEEN chooses ber Maids of Honor, and should ¥e careful to select those who can be re- lied upon in leading the singing and keeping good time in the march. They mu-t recite well. Practice kneeling, so. that it may be graceful, epeedy, simultancous, and noiseless, Orentne Scene—F ora, tn full costume, emerges from the evergreens flanking the throne, passes in front of the audience, and thus addresses the flowers : Frora. My treasures! ye are looking sweet. Ses And it is well. Are ye aware That for a time I deem my honors slight, And yield them up to deck a maiden fair ? To-night I play the subject. I-shall kneel And pay my homage to a mortal. Who may tell The mingled pride and triamph she will feel, When crowned as sovereign of this rosy dell? Sometimes I think the boon they ask too great— But mortals will my birthday celebrate ; And, after all, ’tis but a single night— The borrowed crown will vanish with the light. (Powe tng &@ moment.) . There are, ’tis said, who my sweet treasures scout, But surely, none save some poor, unloved lout, Whose eyes ne’er gazed upon these rosy bowers, Would dare assert he had no love for flowers. Oh, then, your sweetest odars breathe to-night ; Let each, with head erect and petals bright, Display that, virtue, innocence and truth, - That spouess purily we praise in youth, Which shall, when aided by your loving beauty, Teach erring man his of unheeded duty. <2 THE DIME DIALOGUES. But hark! I hear their footsteps ; (turning) au revoir [ Ye know my wishes, (retiring behind the evergreens,) and ye need no more. (Procession enters—Sprine and AUTUMN; then QUEEN; next SumMeR and WInNtER, followed by the School in single file, dressed as Nympus—tallest first. As the last enters, they double and sing. During the song they march in figures.) Sone or THE Nympxs, — as a aoe Come where the buds and blossoms grow, Come where the birds are singing free, Come where the laughing breezes blow, Waiting our melody. Yes, we come with joyous cheer, Bringing off’rings for the merry May; Seasons and Nymphs, we all are here, Joining the roundelay. Crronvs—Come where the buds and blossoms grow, Come where the birds are singing free, Come where the laughing breezes blow, Waiting our melody. Now let the sounds of mirth and glee, Waking an echo in the grove, Bounding from every rock and tree, Add to the sports we love. THE MAY QUEEN. While the pearly dew distills Sweetest perfume for the budding flowers— Painting the grass on moonlit hills, Brightly we'll pass the hours. (CHORUS.) Thus will we spend the starlight hours, Gilding the moments as they fly ; And ere the morning lights our bowers, Far o’er the hills we'll hie. Yes, we’ve met in joyous cheer, Bringing off’rings for the merry May ; Seasons and Nymphs, we all are here, Joining the roundelay. (CHoRUS.) {Phe march should be so arranged that, at the close of the last chorus, the procession may be ranged in front of the throne— tallest in rear. The Seasons, with QUEEN, form group near throne.’ Sprrne@ thus addresses them :) ye: Spring. As ’tis our wont, when thus we meet together, To choose some maiden whom we all hold dear, And whom we've watched in bright and stormy = To bear the floral honors of the seers : Some one whose temper we have ne’er found eipuded, When threat’ning tempests rose athwart the sky; Whose gentle heart was never yet enshrouded With’ hypocritic mask—whose loving eye Sees only good in others; ever longing Some act of kindly favor to bestow ; Whose kind impulses are forever thronging ; Whose breath no strife was ever known to blow. __ I've brought (leading QUEEN forward a step,) this maiden whom ye oft have seen, As with her mates she rambled o'er the green, And ask you, sisters, have ye aught to say, = Why she should not be crowned the Queen of May ? Summer. Thou hast chosen well. There is not one _ > Can oppose her claim to the floral throne. Nightly I've watched her, pillowed in sleep, _ Seeing the dreams from her eyelids peep. Daily I've followed her, close by her side, TRE DIME DIALOGUES. Ag she wandered along in her innocent pride. Loving and loved by old and young, Gentle and swect were the songs she sung. To meadows and brooks, rocks, rivers, and trees, I have whispered my love. On the evening breeze T have wafied the odor of every fower— Gladly Til call them to deck her bower. Actumn. Summer brings the open bloom, ’Tis mine the fruit to mellow ; Hers to give the fields perfume, Mine the grain to yellow. E’en so now. 1 can but add Consent to her known pleasure ; Where’s the lad would not be glad To own so rich a treasure ? Let us crown this maiden fair.. (Turning to Wus- TER.) Winter, thou art willing— Thy kind heart can not forbear Our fondest hepes fulfilling ? Winter. No! mine is-no dissenting voice— I love the gentle maiden ; From the first she’s been my choice— With joy my heart is laden. I have twined the laurel wreath, Plucked the sweet arbutus, - Trailing snow-capped rocks beneath— Its odors now salute us. They call me cold; {advancing to QUEEN, takes her hand,) give me thy hand; I'm happier for this sigetiog Not one of all this merry band ' Can give thee warmer greeting. I would that Flora now were here; On her alone we're waiting. a (Serine loudly interrupts with :) Srrinc. Kneel, Nymphs! those footsteps drawing near : somes (whole troupe kneel,) pay your greet — = THE MAY QUEER. (At the last words, Fiona, emerging from the shubbery, tn fulb costume, stands for a moment surveying the group. Then :) Fiona. Ye Nymphs and Seasons! 1 obey your call, And cordially { welcome one and all. The hour we spend in mutual greetings here, Ee To me’s the happiest hour of all the year, ~~ - a _ But rise, (extending ecepter, all rise,) sweet friends, for uf ae guess aright, 3 s Another claims your homage here to- night. . O’er lake and brook, o’er grassy slope and mead, a: : Where herd the snow-white flocks and noble steed, > The shepherd swuins bave heard your lively song, As on the evening breeze ’twas borne along. And to my ear the echoes seemed to say, They call thee, Flora, ’tis thy natal day. A a Now have ye brought the promised maiden fair, a Whose modest brow the Floral crown may wear? And has she all the merit we demand In one who rules this bright and‘merry band ? Spring. Yes, we have met, obedient to the call, Which, borne on perfumed gales, comes sweet to all. Each fragrant scent, each balmy evening breeze ; Each bursting bud that ornaments the trees, Has breathed a voice that, to the maiden’s ear, Whispers of joy, avd mirth, and gladdest cheer. That voice has mingled with our midnight dreams, And breathed upon us with the morning’s beams, In answer, we have culled the fairest flowers, And woven wreaths to deck the festive bowers. And here’s the maid (leading QuEEN forward,) our mu- tual choice has brought. When far and near, ’mid every group we sought, We found her peerless. Lo! her fond eyes shine With timid rev’rence as they gaze on thine. ae Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter, all are here, oS As we are wont to meet from year to year ; And they can tell thee, if it be thy pleasure, e They guard this maiden as a priceless treasure. eee yee back, and Fiona looks een the other Sousons THE DIME DIALOGUES Summer. Over the hilltop, down in the vale, Gathering sweets till the stars grew pale, Night after night we have bent our way, Preparing a féte for the Queen of May. And we're come to strew with the fairest flowers That grow by the streams, or the verdant bowers Tic Floral throne for this lassie sweet ; No other we’ve met is half so meet To wear thy favors. Deny us not The boon we ask in this favored spot. Autumn. Thé scarlet fruit that orchards yield, The golden grain that reapers glean ; The humming bees in fragrant fields, The myrtle, waving on the green, All second our desire, and wait To know thy pleasure, ay or nay. We would not ask a boon so great, But, Flora, ’tis thy natal day. Full many a grove and flowery glade Has felt our tread on the dewy grass As we gathered the flowers, or garlands made, To lay at the feet of this blooming lass. Take her fair young hand in thine, (Fxg taken: QUEEN’s hand, smiling,) And note the thrill her touch imparts. Love, Truth and Candor there combine, What wonder that she won our hearts. Fuoxrs drops QueEEN’s hand, turning toward WiNTRR.) Winter. Do not reprove our mutual choice ; Not ours alone ; these Nymphs around Would utter with united voice : Their wish to have the maiden crowned. Pye laid the icy fetters by That locked the rippling brooks of late; And to the south wind, passing by, Have opened wide the ice-bound gate. I breathe vo chill on tender buds That lend their fragrance to the breeze; - No russet cast upon the woods, Nor clothe with crystal robe the treea, THE MAY QUEEN. I only come to bid good cheer . To all who meet this merry eve ; To drop, perchance, the farewell tear, iy When we our joyous sports shail leave, (Then Fiona, gazing over the group, turns to the Neasons, with ;) Fiora. My sisters! I but proved your truth, F< Forgive my brief dissembling ; There’s none rejoices more than I, To witness this assembling. : Yes, Maids of Honor! ye are proved, (holding her ae scepter over their heads as they bow before her,) i ; And such I now create you. I wish you joy, for merry sports This festive night await you. (Advancing toward the QUEEN, tukes her dy the hand, leading *sr forward to foot of the throne) Maiden! think not thou art to me unknown, Whose secret influence brings thee to a throne. Thy modest virtues, innocence and grace, Full well deserve to hold an honored place. Behold. this crown, (removing and holding before the ~ 3 QuEpN,) which my own hands have wrought, These buds, by genii, o’er the sea were brought; - Here all the emblems of thy pure life meet, And whisp’ring odors breathe thy praises: sweet. Thus (crowning her,) do we change Positions—thou a Queen ; And I, (bowing gracefully,) a humbler actress in the scene. This blooming girdle (removing it,) fairy fingers wove ; May it (binding i round the QuUEREN’S waist,) for aye se cure our mutual love. Now take this scepter, (extends it to the QuEEN, both kold- ing it,) tis of magic power, And well may aid thee in thy regal bower. (Zets go of scepter » takes the Qumxn’s hand, and both face th« f group.) : Behold your Queen, fair Nymphs! Now follow, all, The Seasons lead, let us obey the call. " Geasons lead as before. Fuora and Queen nest. The whole eee & in, ments slowly in n figures, singing :) et - THE DIME DIALOGUES. May QuEEN’s GreETING. Bae Ee “~ Ps be} L. jpegs i a ee =f 2 aii ian aay gee Let us sing once again, — and voices merrily, all Dancing in the groves so fresh and gay ; Sunny skies and laughing eyes, with their beaming glances ~ call, “Come and greet the Queen of May.” Cuorvs—Hilly ho! Hilly ho! Hark! the song sweeps along, | Waking echoes loud and strong-— “Come and greet the Queen of May.” Here the glad waters murmur a cadence as they run Leaping toward the ocean far away; Flashing bright in crystal light, casting pearls to every one, Thus they greet the Queen of May. (CaoRvs.) Here the wild roses bloom, and the tuneful mocking-bird Trilling forth his music all the a Bears the sound to be around ; oer our shouts his voice is heard, ‘ er Thus he greets iG Queen of May. _ {Cxorva) “THE MAY QUrEN. eed (Zt the chorus be repeated, As it closes the second time, each a one takes her place as at the end of the first song, except : Sprine and Autumn, who stand near the throne, on the right, SuMMER and WINTER on the left. Fiona and SPRING pass between. At the steps, FLORA says :) Frora. Ascend thy throne, while at thy feet we kneel, (QUEEN ascends the steps. All kneel.) And pay the homage we so deeply feel. (As the QuEEN reaches the throne she faces the group, and gazing cver it, begins) —~ QurEEN. Nymphs! Seasons! friends, companions, sisters dear, : pe" My heart of hearts reciprocates your cheer ; = But rise, (extends her scepter, and all rise,) the homage I se to-night demand : Is, who shall be the merriest of the band ? I would not wear a monarch’s jeweled crown To fright my subjects with a regal frown ; But, while my brief authority shall last, Pll wreathe sweet flowers for memory when ’tis passed. 2 _ This blooming crown—though with the morrow’s light It lose the charm it holds this festive night— Shall often whisper to my pleased ear _ : Of joys we tasted as we reveled here. « To-night let all be merry as the bell That wakes the elfs and fairies of the dell. With zephyr footsteps tread the mazy dance; Let joyous feeling beam in every glance; So if in coming years it be our lot Again to visit this enchanted spot, We Il smile, though other hands their wreaths have hung On boughs ’neath which we danced when we were young. Now join ye in a blithesome song, sweet maids; _ j Call forth.an echo from these silyan shades ; a And then we'll chat the merry hours away, ar Till fading stars proclaim the op’ning day. — F = _ eats herself with royal dignity. Beckons Fiona, who seats = herself on an ottoman at the right, Seasons lead ee tyme. — in ae as they sing :) TRE LIME DIALOGUES Coronation Sone, a0 SS aaa oe @ - FINE, eS : =e of Se $—t hs . 6S EE c-o-8 ae C. fig lahat == vee Sas EES Bsa Moonlight is streaming o’er the plain, La, lala, Ja, la, la, lala, Ja, Let us unite in song again, La, lala, Ja, la, la, Jala, la. Nymphs of the fountain, lake and dell, Join in the sports ye love so well, Singing and marching, to and fro, Over the vales and meads we go. ur country’s ¢al Apel sth, of 761, The story of an oak tree, The precious heritage, L-e-g on my leg, ae the wer) P. ORs »|4 Texan Eulogium, ace, (rental ae oe Un ort, Pulls nccrt of hiimeall Practical Fhrenology, A. Ward's advice, Beauti i Buzfus on Pickwick, Cab Romeo aad Juliet, Disagreeab! What isa ted er "tice! Funny folks, DIME COMIC SPEAKER, No, 4. History of our fi ) The ends of peace. T.F. Mbagher's wdc! Freedom the watchwa. We owe to the Union, |Crisis of our nation, Last speech of Stephen Dae * Christian pa Linsbie towed ‘Turkey Dan’s oration, incoln’s message, urkey Dan’s ora’ Great Bell Roeland, A fearless plea, The New Ycar and the|The onus of ey: Union, A foreigner’s tribui King Cotton, Catholic cathedral, Battle anthems, The“ Speculators. A song of woe, Political stamp Ward's trip to Richm’ 'd,|Comie Grammar Ne. $ Parody, |Farewell to the bottle, ‘The mountebank, Compound interest, ie sermon on the feet, ‘The smack in schoo}, Slick’s definition of wife Id dog Joc! Tale of a hat, ‘The fishes’ toilet, debating club, Brian O’Linn, A Dutch sermon, Crockett to office-seakers| Lecture on locomotion, | Who is my opponent? |Mrs.Caudle on umbr’lia DIME ELOCUTIONIST, No, 5. SEC I. Parerpias or Tavz Envnciation.— Faults in enunciation; how toavoid then, et», SEC. i. wo Ant oy Onatory.—Sheridan’s Oxation. * Rnles of Composition as appl! Words, Phrases, Baiihenene aan ote,, — “ SEC, IV. ee XERCI§NS IN PRosg List of the Passions, etc., etc., etc. anp Vursx.—Falstaff; Byron; Hamlet, « SE" Sil, Tra ComvouRnt Evewents o¥ an'SEC. V Onaxrrarions or Goon ‘oneoecnea DIME HUMOROUS SPFAKER, No, 6, A seed story. How the money goes, |Poetry run mad, The mysterious guest, A string of Onions, Hun-ki-do-ri’s Fourth of Right names, The bump, A tragic atory, July oration, {Scientific lectures, The sea-serpent, Cate, If you mean no, say no,|The ager, 'The secret, Courtahip, Jo Bows on leap year, |The cockney, ‘The shoemaker, Debt Lay of the henpecked, The codfish, The useful doctor, Devils, Lot Skinner’s elegy, ae i of Sergeant’ aoe waterfall, : Dow, jr.’a lectures, Matrimony, To the bachelors’ unites and echo, ‘Nothing to ‘do, rhe foathor’s ee: league, Fashionable women, ‘Old Candle’s eh eae — erican vood- ‘Vagaries of the Ferm thistlea, Old Grimes’s son, nestion, Good-nature, ie Pay your own ¢a-) in tarp of a thousand) What [ wouldm’t Kle' ‘ankee doodle A Bah Zofliad Klsbeyerony ‘pag ms “ Araby’s! The mt eh the sarpints,, Ze ie Mesheotara, Hones Biglow’s opinions The march to Moscow, tee Way and one male, The Pcet under Difficulties, For five males, Willian Tell. For a whole school. Woman’s Rights. For seven females and two DIME DIALUGUES, No. 0, Kepta Secret. For seven females Beene For three females and obe ‘wo Counsellors, For three males, The Votaries of Folly. Fora number of females Aunt Betsy’s Beaux. For four females and tr. males, The Libel Suit. For two females and one mala males, All is not Gold that Glitters. For three females|Santa Claus, For a number of boys. and one male. The Generous Jew. For six males. Christmas Fairies, For several little xirls. The Three Rings. For two males. DIME DIALOGUES, No, 7. er wee Beggars. A Minor Drama. For fourteen jemales, The Earth-Child in Fairy-Land. A Fairy-Land Court Scene. For numeroue girls. fwenty Years Hence. A Serio-Comical Passage. For two females and one male. The Way to Windham, A Colloquy For two males, ee A Poetic Passageat Words, For two The "Stages A Colloquy. For two males. How to Get Rid of a Bore. -A School Drama. For several boys, Bearing School Accomplishments. A School For two males and two females, s —— na the Pledge. A Colloquy. For two _ iia « Dram-Drinking. A Colloquy. For ree Trae Pride, a" Colloquy. For two females. Tae Two Lecturers, For numerous males, Two Views of Life. Collonsy. For two femalea The Rights of Music. A Colfoquy and something else. For two females. A Hopeless Case. A Query in Verse. For two girls. The Would-be School-Teacher, A School Ex- aminer’s Eaperience, For two males, ‘ome to Life too Soom. A Humorous Passage. ‘or three males. Eight O’clock. A Little Girls’ Colloquy. Fe: two little children. ‘True Dignity. A Colloquy. For two bo: Grief too xpensive. & Celloquy. ‘or twe males. Hamlet and the Ghost. A Burlesque. For twe persons, Little Red Riding Hood, A Nursery Lesson. For two females, A New Application of an Old Rule, A Colloquial Pasange. For two boys and one girl, Colored Cousina, A Colloquy. For two males DIME DIALOGUES, No. 8. The Fal Fehool.. For s ; number of girls. By Mrs, Mark Peabo Tne Enrolling Officer. For a number of charac-} Bs Clara Augusta, For three boys. By tbe Girl of the Period. For three girls. By same. The Fowl Rebellion, For two males and one male, By Ajax Axtell. Blow but Sure, eg several males and two fe- A. “audle’s Valosipe, For one male and one fe- male, Altered from “ The Original.” The ures, pags several small children, By EK. A. P. The Trial of Poter es For ‘several male characters, By Lucy A. Osbaxd. Getting a Photograph, For two males and twe females Adapted from “ American Miseel- mm Kociety for General In rovement. For s number of girls, oa ietor. A Nobleman in Disguise. For a number of char oes ans ae By es Ae Great ctations, For two ys. from “ The Schoolmate.”” Playing School. For five females and four males Adapted from same. Clothes for the Heathen. For one male and one female, By Ajax Axtell. A Hard Case. For several insle characters, By Ghent For ton females and one male. By E DIME DIALOGUES, No. 9. Advertising for Help. For a number of females,| As performed in the Woodward High School. America to England, Greeting, For two boys, with an episode for the whole school. The Old and the New. For four femalesand one male. Choice of Trades, For twelve little boys. The Iap-Dog. For two females. The Victim. For four females and one male, The Deelist. For two boys, The True Philosophy, For several females and Spoiled Children. For a mised School. Brutus and Cassius. Coriolanus and Aufidius. The New Scholar. For a number of girls. The Self-made Man. For three males. The May Queen (No. 2). Fors school, A fancy dresa and musical piece, with costume and stagy direciions. Mre. Lackland’s Rconomy. Fer four boys ane three girls, two males. ieod Education. For two females. L. Tux Denatine Sogizry.—Its Office and Use-; fulness; Formation; Rules; ConaBbitien $21 Il. How ro Denate. —Prerequis! ites to Oratori- cal Success; Logic, Rhetoric, Maxi:ns, etc. ah Tur Ce’ Rwaw’s Guiwg.—Ordinary Meet- DIME DEBATER AND CHAIRMAN’S GUIDE, No. 11. Should W omen beGiven the Ballot? A Debate | For several boys. ings and Assemblies; Deliverative Bodiss, Com ventions, etc. ; shark incellaueons. IV. Dxsares. — Debate in fall; Devatés by v. OpeAasehie axp Purasxs.—latin. L357 The altn ebooks are acid by Newsdealers everywhere, or will be sent, Post-pald, on recelgt a pes, Ten cop ts each, BEAPLE 4ND COMPANY, Publishers, #8 Gillian ®, 6 T The Law of Human Kirdness. Fortwo females - : ‘The ups snd downs, Amer y of a { Plea for the Mains law, Not on the battlefield, The I.alian struggie, Independence, Our country, The equality of man, Character of the Revo’n The fruits of the war, The sewing-machine, @ manhood, The mystery of life, ‘The truly great, Earl Tiliog and rie’g, A. ’a oration, True nationality, Our natal day, The war, [ilber iy, Charge of light brigaie, After the battle, The glass railroad, Case cf Mr. Macbeth, Prof. on phranology, Washington’s name, The sailor boy’s syren, Intelligence the baste of! DIME AMERICAN SPEAKER, No. 1. J. Jeboom’s oration, A Dutch cure, The weather, The heated tenn, Philosophy applied, Penny wise, pound fool-| True cleanliness, s! Sat’d’y night's enjoy’ts, | “In a just cause,” | No peace with oppres-| | sion, A thanksgiving sermon, | 'The cost of riches, Great lives imperishable} ‘The pre ber the y* Unfinished problems, Honor to the dead. Inmortality ef ‘Webat’s polit’) system, A vision in the brelk Press, Woman’s rights, Right of the governed, My ladder, Woman, Alone, The rebellion of 1862. \Disunion, DIME NATIONAL SPEAKER, No. 2. Union and its results, Our country’s future, The statesman’s |i = the ae weep, ar. country’s glo! Union a Nowsekold Territorial expansion, Martha Hopk na, ‘The bashful man’s story Ohio, { Oliver Hazard Peryr, Our domain, Rick and poor, Seeing the eclipse, Beanties of the law, Go-lang! git up, The rate of life, Creowning glory of U.S. Three fools, Washington Our great inheritance, \Eulogium on H’y Clay, ‘The matter-of-fact man,|S ) of belief, The Indian chief, Mrs. Grammar’s ball, Future of the fashions, and always, British influence, Defense of Jefferson, National hatreds, Marder will out, Strive for the best, Early risin, Deeds of kindness, Gates of sleep, The independent farmer,|The bug! The Hoodish gem, How the money comes, | Purity of the struggle Old Our country first, last, Beautiful and troe, ‘The worm of the still, ope and _ a i Ragia, Washingto 2. DIME PATRIOTIC SPEAKER, No, 3. America to the world, Love of country, Right .of self-preserva- Our {tion, | A Kentuckian’s appeal,| Kentucky steadfast, Timidity is treason, Kpril Teuhe 196i ril 15th, 1861, Ths apirit of 61, The precious heritage, uzfus on Pickwick, Romeo aad Julist, ine Trish element, Christy Let me alon Brigand-ier-General, a draft, ‘nion Square speeches, The Gan as Our country’s call The story of an oak tree, L-e-g on my leg, eech, oe A Texan Eulogium, ‘How to bes fireman, The United States, Puffs acc’t of himself; Practical phrenology, Beautiful, Cab! 7 Disagreeabla le. ‘What isa bachelor lixe! Happiness, Dogs, _ Fanits in enunciation SEC. i. Tew An? o¥ Onatorr.—Sheri Funny folks, T. F. Meagher’s We owe to the Union, Last speech of Stephen oa Domne, neoin’s me e, Great Bell Roland, The New Ycar and the Union, King Cotton, Battle anthems, DIME COMIC SPEAKER, No. 4. A song of woe, Ward’s trip. to Richm’d, Parody, The mountebank, ‘Compound interest, A sermon on the feet, Old dog Joc! ‘The fishes’ toilet, Brian O’Linn, Crockett to office-seekers | Who is my opponent? DIME ELOCUTIONIST, No, 5, SEC I. Pyrerpiss oF Taue Exvnciation.— te. ; how to avoid them, List of the Passions, etc., etc., atc. Ls ae Tit. Ta ComvonRnt Exewarts oy ax'SEC. VV Onaxrvcrions oF Goon Aurworirim, DIME HUMOROUS SPFAKER, No, 6, A sad story, A string of onlons, A tragic atory, ‘ourtehip, Debt, : Deyils, Dow, jr.’a lectures, and echo, Fashionable wornea, Fern thistlea, @ood-nature, Gottlieb Klebey: Schincksalichver’s Hones Bigiow's opinions How the money goes, Hun-ki-do-ri’s Fourth of July oration, If you mean no, say no, Jo Bows on leap year, Lay of the es Lot Skinner’s elegy, Matrimony, Nothing to do, Old Cardle’s umbrella, jOld Grimes’s son, | Paddle your own ca- i_ noe,” |Poetry run mad, ‘Right namea, |Seientific lectures, |The ager, |The cockney, ‘The codfish, The fate of Sergeant Thin, The feather’s quarrel, ae = erican vood- \_ chuck, |The harp of a thousand | atrin: History of our flag ) The ends of peace. reas, Freedom the watchwai., Crisis of our nation, Duty of Christian pa riots, ‘Turkey Dan’s oration, A fearless avery, A foreigner’s tribuvs, Catholic cathedral, The “ Speculators.’ Political stamp Comie Grammar Ne. $ Farewell to the bottle, The cork leg, The smack in schoo}, ‘Slick’s definition of wife The debeting: lebating clu A Duteh gations Lecture on locomotion, Mrs.Caudle on umbr’llia Oxation.—Rules of Composition as applied Words, Phrases, Sentences, etc., ote, ae EC.IV, Rerexsentariv« anpD Vursx.—Falstaff; XERCisns 1x Pee Byron; Hamlet, a ‘The mysterious geost, The bump, The sea-serpent, The secret, ‘The shoemaker, useful doctor, The waterfall, To the bachelors’ ugies league, Vagaries of the Avepilon, What [ woulda’t | Yankee doodle A vaetare, | Zt, ia ‘Parody. om “ Araby’s|The Inst of the sarpints, Ze Mork Daughter,” ‘The march to Moseow, AR DIME STANDARD SPEAKER, No. 7. the world we live iz, W oman’s cl: Authors of ocr liberty, The real conqueror, The citizen's heritage Italr, The mechanic, Nature & Nature’s God, The moderr. good, [san, Desian’s adiress to tha Independen 26 bel!, 1777, Scha Burns, Gettysburg, No sect in heaven, Mdias Prade’s tea-party, Hon. J.M. Stubbs’ vi e er of an id aoe eneficence a e sea, Dream of the te q ers, |Fanaticiam, The two The trae scholar, Judges not infallible, jeri The Bible, ‘The purse at d the sword My cea, moral HowCyrue lai? the cabl4 Instability of successful; What is war, The pretiiest hand, | Butter, quer,’ My Deborah Lee, je always con-|The race, |Agriculture, Paradoxical, ilreland, Little Jerry, the miller, The peop! ‘Music of labor, | The neck, Foggy thoughts, |Prussia and Austria, = | Wishing, The ladies’ man, The Blarney stone, Life F \The student of Bonn, {The idler, \The anbeliever, \The broken household, The pin and needte, The modern Puriten Immortality of the seni, op meee Heroism and daring, A shot at the decanter. DIME STUMP SPEAKER, No. 8. Good-nature # bless! America, [fallacy, ; on the situation, Hans Schwackheimer on woman's suffrage, All for a nomination, ? (sea, ‘he sea,the sea,the open Thestar bangled spanner ee where you belong, Life is what you makeit, Where's my money, Bpeech from conscience, Man's relation to society The limits tw happiness, Sermon from hard-shell Tail-enders, ‘Baptist, ‘The value of money, Meteoric disqui “Right of secession” a Life’s sunset, Human nature, wyers, | Wrongs of the Indians, ge r. Appeal in bebalf of Am.| \Crapbed folks, [shrew, iM ipayies Ana [liberty | ‘Taming a masculine)Lay Sermon, Farmers, [country,|A dream, {The true greatness of our| Astrouomical, |N. England & the Union, The moon, [zens, i The unseen battle-field, | Duties of American citi- |Ples for the Republic, '|The.man, Temptations of cl! Beokes eeckidceres ‘There is no death, Races, A fruitful discourse, A Frenchman’s dinner, Unjust national acqul’m The amateur c. schmaa, ‘The cold-water > Permanency of States, Liberty of Jno. Thompeun's danger, House cnn \1t is not your DIME JUVENILE SPEAKER, No, 9. A boy’s-philosophy,’ Hoe out your row, Six-year-old’s protest, The suicidal cat, A valediction, Popping corn, ae ee ce @ same, in rhyme, The fairy shoemaker, What was learned, Press on, The borse, [he snake In the grass, Tale of the tropics, Bromley’s speech, ‘he same, aecond extract The father’s child, — Shakeperinn scholar, Maiden’s peal of life, A mixture, Plea for skates, ™ Playing ball, Ah, why, Live for something, Lay of the henpecked, The outside dog, Wolf and lamb. a in esas , rogs asking fora kin, Sick lion, . oY Country and town Man and woman, Honor, Lotus-planter, Little pe Baby’s soliloquy, Repentance, Plea for Eggs. Humbug patriotiem, “i Night after Christmas, {Choice of honra, Short lege, | Poor Ricbard’s marine, Shrimps on amnsementa,’ Who killed Tom Roper, How the raven became lack, A mother’s work, The same, Who rules, A sheep atory, Little correapondent, One food turn rvens ine! ream, another, in, Tl never use tobacco, A mosaic, # The old bachelor, Prayer to light, Little Jim, Angelina’s ‘amuent, John’y Shrimpson boats Merey, Nothing to do, Honesty best policy, Heaven, Ho for the fields, ~ Fashion on the brain, On Shanghais, A smilie, Caeabiani ocean storm, Do thy little, do it welt, Little puss, Base-ball, [fever. Prescription for spring DIME SPREAD-EAGLE SPEAKER, No. 10, Ben Buster’s oration, Hans Von Spiegel’s 4th, Tosh Billings’ advice, A hard-shell sermoa, The boots, je aqueezer, Noah and the devil, » 4 lover’s luck, Hifaiutio Adolphus, | Speaking for the sheriff, ;Drum-head sermons, Daking a shweat, |Schnitzerl’s hilosopede| Then and now, |“ Woman’s rights,” Josh Billings’ lecturing, |Luke Lather, Doctor DeBlister’s ann’t bs hog, Jack Spratt, Consignments, Hard lives, New England tragedy, ‘he ancient pachelor, Dan Bryant's speech, A colored view, Jacob Whittle’s speech, stion and F Distinction’s disadvant- Bunt {ages. @ushalina Bendibus, A stock of notions, Original Mand Maller, |Jerks nosticates, Nobody, FN venea with Racticn vers lssing in the street, Scandaloui Slightly Mixed, The office-seeker, Old bachelors, The Nig Niama, | People will talk, Swackbawer’s bal Who wouldn’t be ‘Don’t depend on daddy Train of circumstances, |Sut Teareape os Good advice, A mule ride, {bi The itching palm, Josh uzzers, Billings on thelTh Music of labor, e American » "The above books are sold by Newadealors everywhere, or will be sent, Post-paid, on receipt of each . pring, Ten conte BEADLE AND OOMPANY, Publishers, BEADLE AND COMPANY, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK. — FIRST SERIES. 1--On the Plains. 2—The Border $ Spy. 3-——Hermit of the C Colorado Hits, 4--Free Trappers’ Pass. 5—Bob Brant, Patriot and Spy. 6—Lhe Guerrillas of the Osag --Old Bill Woodworth. 8—The Oronoco Chief. 9—The Prisoner of the Mill. 10--The Secret Shot. 11--The Vicksburg Spy. 3 ae nia Joe. -13--Crazy Dan. _ _ 14—Phe Lraitor’s Doom, - 15—The Freebooters. - 16—Old Hal Williams. —1%—Kate Sharp. 18—The Bronticr Scouts, 19—Sergeant Slasher, _ 2)—Scouting Dave. | -_a4—the Loyal ae 22—The Cave Secret. | _ 23—Bella Burt. 24—The Wood Demon. - ; 25—True Blue. 26-- Phe Yankee Scout. a ae - 28-— ¢ 0; ~ 29—The C sotion ee es ) 31—Old Rube, the Ht # 632—The Stontis Vow. at 33 —Old Ben Manx. ~The Regulators. “Tom W riley. 36—Stung Serpent. — ~Border Ben. Julia ee: 9—One- Bullet. Mike, the Guide, 43—Black Steed of th 44—The Cen, a ‘The Figure — or, th ar ‘The above hoo d ess, on seco CEN eC. ~Who Was He? A Story ot Tw 3 Popular American Tales. 100 Pages Crown Octavo, Complete. _| 8—Pirates of the Prairies. _ 7—White Wizard. eh | 12—Thayendanegea, |. 19—The ae: ‘Horseman, -20—The Go -21—The Death Track. } aor Border Bandits. — | 26—The ‘Texan's ate : Fifteen Cents aan We SECOND SERIES. | 5 1—Loy al Heart. -2—The Trail-Hunter. 4—The ‘lrapper’s | ana 5—Pathaway. -6—Whitelaw. 8—Hirl, the ‘Hunchback, 42—The Red Warrior. I uaker Saul, the Idiot Soy. —Mountain Max. — : ee oe 15—Redpath. 16—Tiger-Slayer. 17—Red Ralph, 18—The Silent Rifleman, 13—The Mysterious Spy. aia the Faueeks id Guide. 22—The Blue ui theron 23—Alapaha, the Squaw. 25--Assowaum, the Avenger. 27—The Red 1. 28—The Sea Bandit. uss Ti iger, the Patriot 30-The Bush Ranger. fv The Doomed Gus ; 38—The Ranger's: Rifle. 39—War Axe. ‘ 40—Scotto, the Scout. 4—T ; otandard School Series. Beap. : AND Coweany have now on their lists the following highly desirable and attractive t:x: books, prepared expressly for schools, families, ete; Each volume contains 1)) cuss pigess printet from clear, open type, comprising the hes! col- lection. of Dislosies Dewars and Recitations, (burlesque, comic aud otherwise.) The Dime School Scrivs tur (he season of 1871-72, as far as now issued, embraces ¥ twenty-six voluimes, viz.: SPEAKERS. No. 1—Dnra AMERICAN SPEAKER, No..2—Dim: Natronan SPEAKER. No. 83—Die Patriotic SPEAKER. No. 4—Drme Comic SPEAKER. No. 5—Diwe = Exocurronisr. No. 6—Dime Humorous SPEAKER, No. 7—Dime Sranparp SPEAKER. No. 8—Dime Stump SPEAKER. No, 9—Dine. Juvent.& SPEAKER. No. 10-Dime. SPREAD-EAGLE SPEAKER. No. 11-Dime DerparerR AND CHAIRMAN’s: GuIDE. No. 12-Dime Exniprrion SPEAKER, No, 13~+Dime Scroon SPRAKER. These books are replete with choice pieces for the Schocl-room, the Exhibition, for Homes, ete, -They are drawn from FRESH sources, and contain some of the choicest oratory of the times. DEAT Cra Ss: Dims Dratoauns: NumBrer ONE. Dime Dialogues. NumBEer Two. Dme DraLrocurs . NumBer TAHRER, Dme Dratocurs. NumBer Four. Dime DraLtogues NuMBER Frve. Dime DrALoevues Noumper Srx. Dime Dravoauets NumBer SEVEN. Dime Dratoagums’ NumeBer Eranr. Dive DraLogues NumBer Nuvu. Dire Dratoguns NumpBer’ TEN. Dive DraLrogurs NumpBer ELEeven. These volumes have been prepared with especial reference to their anutladility in al/ school-rooms, They are adapted to schools with or withont the furniture of a stage, and introduce a range of characters suited to scholars of every grade, both male andfemale. It is fair to assume that no volumes yet oilered to schools, af any price, contain so many available and useful dialogues and dramas, serious and comic, Dime ScHoont MeEtopisr, (Music and Words.) Dime MeEnoprist, © e227" For sale by all newsdealers; or sent, post-paid, to any address, on vecvita of price—TEN CENTS each. BEADLE AND COMPANY, Publishers, 98 William St-eet, N, Y. — The