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Slade, ; ; wavered acoordmg bo Act of Congress, in the year 19%8, by KKADLE AND COMPANY, km tho office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washingtan, @. 18. d 18 19 THE DIME DIALOGUES NO. 12 YANKEE ASSURANCE. FOR SEVERAL CHARACTERS, (Hnter YANKEE, valise in hand, pocke’s full of papers, ete} Yan. Well, naow; I’m tuckered aout. Twelve miles, an! net acustomer. ’Twon’'t do. I must git up a show, or a speech, or a protracted meetin’, an’ then give ’em soap an’ life- insurance; an’ ef I’m old Zeb. Streeter’s son, I guess I'll make a draw on this’burg. (Hnter Mrs. Gries, dressed in old- "fashioned garments, with satchel on her arm.) Hem! How are ye, mam? Pooty fine day—good fer pea-vines an’ bees. Are ye well? Mrs. G. Wa-al, yes, thank ye; only a streak ov rhumatiz in my back, an’— Yan. Yeou don’t say? Wy, I kin take that outer ye quicker’n buildin’ a house. Mrs.G. You don’t say? I'd give e’ena’most a dollar te git quit ov it. Oh, sometimes it makes me squirm like a angle- worm on a hook, this rhumatiz does. Sometimes I holler sight out like— (Screams, and YANKEE springs up tn the air, aa ¥ frightened.) Yan. Ob, Lordy! Yer in an awful way, fur that’s th _ wal pneumatico bromidibus potassicus variety, and always eads in statiricus on the laryngal cavity, or suffusion in the prodolapsus organisms, an’ then it’s sure death. Mrs. G. Oh—oh~—oh! An’ here I be a-talkin’ when I ' eught to be abed, doctorin’. Yan. Abed! Haw-haw! Not abed, mam. Were (open- tng his oaliee) is a remedy for all sich disorders. (Shows cake ef soap.) It is the concrete decoction of saponaria, bichromate 10. THR DIME DIALOGUES. of sodium and oleus bos. It is wonderful, mam, an’ ef weg rubbed in, will make ye feel like a gal ag’in. Mrs. G. You don't say? Well, whoever? An’ will ya give it to me, mister ? Yan. Yes ’m—price only one dollar. Mrs. G. One dollar! Why, that’s outrageous. One dok lar fer a cake o’ soap! Who ever ?” Yan. Allright, mam! Go on with yer rhumatiz, an’ calf da the coffin-maker! (Prepares to put soap in valise.) Mrs. G. Ou, den’t say so! Dear me. What did yor way about profusion of the sodalapsus ? Yan. Suffusion of the prodolapsus, mam. Once sae yer days is numbered, an’ I see by yer lips that it’s goin’ aa wonderful fast. Mrs. G. Oh, don’t say so. Dont! What's the matter av my lips? What shall I do? Yan. Let me see. (Heamines lips.) Membranous anasthe- sia, supplemented by anemia of the cutaneary lining. Now shall I prescribe fer ye? Mrs. G. Oh, yes. Hereisthemoney. (Gives a dill.) Se now, stop the prodolapsus—stop it ef ye can; fer my six chil- drens’ sake, do! Yan, Sartainly, mam, with pleasure. This is the surest way ov application. (Takes soap and rubs his own lips.) Now, ye see, I do this to liquefact the oleum, and vitalize the sodium. The saponaria is then ready to act. Now, mam, rub your lips on mine, an’ ye’ll feel a change fer the better, right #00n. Mrs. G. Ob, what a queer way to give medicine! Are you sure it’s the only way? i Yan, Sartainly; the only way, or else you'll have to cal! in the cofiin-maker. Mrs. G. Oh, don’t! There! (sighs), that was a right smart twitch down my back. : Yan. No time to lose, mam! (Sticks out his face.) Mas. G. (Looking around to see if any one ts near.) Now, shut your eyes, cause I don’t like to have any one lookin’ at me. (He shuts his eyes, while she proceeds to rub her lips against his. Contact of lips, of course, is not necessary on tha part af te @eakers.) There, Pve done it! v4 a | | { | | — ; ; . ~| iS | om YANKEE ASSURANCE nh Yan. Pooty well did, mam. (Winks hie satisfaction) Naow go hum, take the soap, rub yerself every time ye feel s twitch, an’ yer a well woman in a week—as good aa a gal ov twenty. Mrs. G. You don’t say? Yan. An’ Vil cull around, shall I, to see how yer gittiz’ slong ? Mus. G. Why, yes; I reckon ’twould be as well. Cen ainly! Imight want ye to liquefact the oleum again, you know Yan. Oh, yes; quite so; I’ll come. Mns. G. Ill be obleeged to ye, sir. I ra-aly believe the medicine’s did me good, a’ready. Yan. Of course it has! It 2ever fails when properly ad- ministered—that is, e-lip-tick-ally applied. Mrs. G. Precisely! I—I—ah, here comes Deacon Board man. Good-day, mister! Don’t forgit to call around. (Heit.) Yan. (Smiling.) Not ef I knows myself! A dollar fer a cake ov Brown Windsor, and a kissas long as a string ov sweet pumpkins! Jew-rusalem, what weuld Saphronia at, hum say? (Znter Deacon B.) Wal, now, deacon, how air ye? Nothin’ to brag ov, Isee. What's wrong? Deacon. Wrong? Why every thing's wrong. I’m ready to give up. I have stolen away, this morning, from my per- secutors, to go to town and have lawyer Cutting make my will. Yan. Yeou don’t say! Naow, deacon, you'd 4) been a deal wiser to ’av’ insured your life, an’ then no will wevld ’a’ been needed. Dracon. What do you mean? Yan. Then you hain’t heard ov the great National Sub wnary Restorative ? ‘ Dnacon. No; what is it? : Yan. Waal, naow, I don’t wonder ye feel bad. It's woll Icame along. Ye see, I’m special agent fer the Prolonged Life Assurance Association of the Two Worlds, an’ to all whom I insure I give the Restorative, which, in nine cages out of ten, makes old men grow young, an’ aus at leaad tweaty years to yer nat’ral life. Deacos. You are joking, surely be: THE DIME DIALOGUES Yar. Joking? Well, it’s no use to talk to you, I seq, (Picks up his valise.) Some men prefer to die a miserabie death to iivin’ right on in health an’ vigor, an’ you, I s’pose are one ov ’em. So, good-day, deacon; I'll come to yer fu: neral. ‘fain’t more’n a month off (Goes.) Deacon. Look here, stranger, I don’t know you. Yan. Don’t know me? Adirondam Zachariah Streeter, M. D., LL. D., and Fellow of the Royal College of Chirur geovs? I'm ashamed fer ye, a deacon, as ye are. Duacon. Oh, ye needn’t be surprised, for the fact is, lam so miserable I don’t know my dead wife’s cousins from thieves. Yan. Then the more reason ye should know me, if I kin do ye good. Dracon. I don’t believe any man can help me. : Yan. Oh, ye don’t say? Naow, see here! Ef Pll prove to you I can vivify, vitalify, recuperate and reanimate all your derangissimal functions—make you feel young again—young, do you hear ?—will you insure in the Prolonged Assurance for ten years? Descon. Why, I’ve no objections to living, if you can as- sure it, and paying well for it; for, the fuct is, I would just like to disappoint these cousins of my poor dead wife, who are hanging round, waiting for me to die, that they may seize my estate. “Yaw. Shoo! Ican dish their sauce! (Puts down valise, and takes out small flask). This, deacon, is the Elixir of Vite. Take a good swallow. (Deacon drinks.) 'There, how does that feel? Deacon. (Rudbing his stomach.) Good; rather queer warming; lively! (Walks around briskly.) ( - Yay. Jess so! That’s dose number one. Dose number two is this. (Presents a bottle of aromatic salts.) Take one strong smell. (Deacon smells, then springs away as if choking.) . Deacon. Wha—what do you mean? ‘You almost stran- gled me! : Yan. Nota bit ov it! Goold fer ye! That dose hurt because your vital energies were so near collapsed that you'd been a dead man in a weck. Naow, afore we go any furder, I must git out yer policy. (Draws package of papers from hia YANEER ASSURANCE. ‘ pocket and exhibits a blank with an immense seal on th. This is a ten-year policy for $10,000. Sign that blank. That is the premium note. (DEACON signs), There, now I’ll sign thig policy and you are fixed. Your wife’s cousins can travel, an you'll show ’em the road. Ha-ha! Deacon. Ha-ha! Yan. Maow, another pull at this flask—Elixir of Vite, you know. (Deacon drinks and winks and smiles.) There, my boy, that will do. Hold on,I say! Why, drat it, man, you've swallowed it nearly all ! Dmacon. Ha-ha-ve I? We-we-ll, ye see, I d-d-didn't know w-w-hen tostop. Ifeel young! (Swings his cane around his head.) Wurrah! (Sings :) We'll rally round the flag, boys, We'll rally once again! Shouting the battle-cry of freedom. Isay. M.D., LL. D. and so forth ; you'll come around to night, will ye, and let me introduce you to my wife’s cousins Yan. Sartainly! ‘Sartainly ! Dmacon. And bring more Elixir, you know! Yan. Sartainly! Sartainly! Deacon. All right, my boy. Good-by to ye. (Hit) Yan. (Examining the blank.) A boner fider signature, an? the old deacon’s good fur it. That’s a clean, cool two hun red an fifty in my pocket. That absinthe did the job. My! but it dd wake the old feller up. It’s pizen stuff. But, won't the deacon feel like a fool when he sleeps it offi You bet! and he'll be mighty glad to give me two hundred and fifty to surrender that signature. You bet again! (Re-enter Deacon, arm in arm with Mrs. Gres.) . Whew | what's up Baow ? Dracon. I say, Doctor LL. D., ’'ve made up my mind and the widow is willing, so here is a go for the justice. Mrs. G. Oh, dear, Deacon! It’s sc sudden. Do ct ut put it off a week at least! I must git a good ready. _ Deacon. Ha-ha! Won’t wait’ an hour, widow! I’m young ag’in, and I’m sure you never lookeé better ; so what's the use of waiting? Ha-ha, but won’t I cheat the cousins! Yan. Widow, let me congratulate you. The deacaz may change his mind. 14 THE DIME DIALOGUES Deacon. Never, sir, never ! . Yan. Or you may have the prodolapsus— Mrs. G. Never, sir, never! It’s gone—utterly gone. [ feel like a girl again. Dracon. Then here we go—to the justice. (Hzil both.) Yan. Well, this is a nice day’s work—more’n I bargain. ec fur—I guess. [ll trot along to the next town, fur when the Deacon comes out ov that Elixir he’ll wish the widder Grimes an’ her six young children were arcund my neck. Ugh! thatt would be sweet. (Enter twelve or fifteen persons in haste.) Blesa me, what 7s a-goin’ naow ? First Speaker. The Deacon—have you seen him ? Srconp Spraxer. Do tell us! I heard that he had been seen arm in arm with the widow Grimes. Have you seen him ? j Turrp SPRAKER. Oh yes—the widow Grimes. She might wheedle him into something. Oh dear me! and then, what would we do? the oid fool! (All sigh and groan.) Yan. Ye are his friends, are ye ? Finst Spraxur. Yes, his cousins. We live with him and take care of him. At. The old heathen! Yan. An ov his property, too, I s’pose ? Sxconp SpraxerR. Yes; we watch over him, Aut. The old miser! Yan applicants for board. Mr. Swett, ( Mr. Frepreric Martin, Mrs. I’s brother-in-larw. fins. M. seated sewing. Laura enters, hands her mother a paper seals herself and takes up some embroidery work. Mrs. M looks over puper. Reads -) Mrs. M. “ Boarders wanted.— A widow lady, residing in a retired part, of the city, would take a few genteel boarders, Apply to Mrs. F. E. Martin, No. 5 South Hast street.” There, my daughter, what do you think of that? Laura. Why, what in the world does it mean, mother ? You never have said a word to me about this. 1 don’t un- derstand it. Mrs. M. Well, dear, I'll tell you what it means. I have concluded that our income is not large enough to procure ne- cessary articles. You know what hard work we’ve had to get a living since your father died. I’ve been thinking over what I should do to get money. Money I must have, oz else sell this house. So I thought it would be a good idea for me to take a few genteel boarders. I knew you would not like it—or, at least, would not agree with my views in regard to the matter, so I thought I would let you know no thing about it till the advertisement was printed. » Laura. Mother, I think it is a very poor plan, and I don" believe you wi'l make any thing by it. I’m sure no good wil come of it. Mrs. M. I knew you wouldn’t agree with me, But I had an idea, or rather something seemed to say to me, that it would be profitable for me to take a few boarders. I some how had a presentiment that good woud come of ‘t, Lavra. I hope you will do well. We have a fair housa, I think; it is better than most houses where boarders arg taken You are expecting applicants soon, I suppose ? 16 {IH DIME DIALOGUES Mrs. M. Yes, for the morning paper har been out several hours. {Bell rings. Laura goes out and soon returns, ushering in Mrs, PRIDE.) Mrs. P. (surceying room and occupants). I saw your adver: MYeement in this morning’s paper. I want to examine your *pomis. Maes. M. Very well. This way, ma’am. (Hit both.) Laura (alone). I don't believe any of our rooms will sui ser. She’s too nice, or thinks she is. Probably she’s one of the “ shabby genteel.” (Re-enter Mrs. M. and Mrs. P.) Mrs. P. You say you have no rooms deiter than the one you showed me. I’m sure I don’t want it, for I now occupy a better room than yours is, and the price is cheaper. I wish to make a change of rooms in order to get a better one— not to get a worse one. Mrs. M. I consider I showed you as good as any you will find for the price. Still, if you don’t like it you are not ob- liged to take it. Good-morning. (Hizit Mrs. P.) Laura. What a disagreeable, stuck-up thing she is! But, L was glad to hear you talk to her as if you were of as muck consequence as she is. (Ring heard at the. door, Mrs. M. rises, and ushers in Purar O'BRIEN.) ; Laura (aside). I guess there’ll be applicants enough. Purer. How do ye do, Miss? Foine weather the day, marm. As I tould me Biddy the mornin, I thought we would do well to look up a more illegant place of risidence than Pig Alley, where we now lives. What would ye ke after beurdin’ me and me family for, and give us as good a rooy ea ye have? Mrs. M. How large is your family, sir ? Perr. Not large at all, marm. Small—very small in dade. Mrs. M. Of how many members is it composed ? Prrex. Tis not composed of members, but of children, except me and Liddy and the pig. Ye'’d not be wantin’ ta take the pig to board, even if he is paceable? Mze M. But how many ia number is your family ? BOARBERS WANTED. 1 Perer. They’re not numtered at all, marm. As many of ’em as the’ is, we managed to find a dacent name for ivery dlissid one on’em. And niver a one did we have to number. There’s me, and Biddy me old woman, and Nora, and Kath- Tin’, and Peggy and Betty, me daughters, marm. Kathrin’ ia got a beau, marm, and would ye mind if he was to be here Saturday nights before an’ after supper? Fer, if ye were to charge anythin’ he'd not be comin’, and then it would le a amall chance of Kathrin’s ever gittin’ married. Mrs. M. I should be obliged .o charge a little for the beau’s suppers, I fear. But, have you no boys? ‘Perer. No boys, did ye say,marm? Faith, it’s boys I have, and they are as foine ones as grows. But they’re all from home now, except Teddy and Pat and Mike and Jeema There’s Tom, he’s a gintleman, and John, he’s a coachman, and Billy, he’s a porter, and— Mrs. M. Never mind abcut the rest of them. Your fam- ily is so large that I could not accommodate it. Besides, I do not wish to take children to board. Pererer. It’s sorry thin, I am, fer I wanted to have me family boarded in style, and see how it would seem to be a gentale boarder. But, good-by to ye, marm. (Hit PETER.) Laura. What a genteel boarder he would make! And what a very small family he had, without even counting the pig! How long have we got to be annoyed in this way, mother ? / : Mus. M. I don’t know. Jf your father had lived, we never would have had to do this. Your father died six years ago this moni. He said there was not property enough that he owned to support us a great while, but I little thought it nil would be spent so soon! He said his brother (your uncle Frederic, whom you never saw), would give us meney and help us at any time; and after Henry’s death, Frederic wrcte that he would assist us any time that we needed aid. I wrote him over a year ago, but have not heard a word from nin. Perhaps he is not living, for I am sure that if he were living, and knew that we needed help, he would be glad to give it. Lavra. Would you know uncle Frederic if you should ree Lim, mother-? If he looks like the ~— we have of hic, Pm sure J should know him. {8 5 THA DIME DIALOGUES. Mrs. M. The picture we have was taken many years ago, and I suppose he is now greatly changed. How glad I would be to see him, even if he did not bring us a cent! (Ring at tho door.) ‘Shere! another applicant. I hope this will be a profitable one, for I shall soon be discouraged and think as you (lo, that “no good can come of it.” But go, and “Tid them enter.” (Zeit Lavra.) (Reenter Lavra with Mr. SwELL.) Mr. 8. Ah! bow do, ma’am. Fine day. Want to engage aroom. Amina great hurry. What are your terms, ma’am ? Mrs. M, Six dollars per week. Mr. 8. Aw,-well, that is quite fair. J will bring around my baggage this afternoon, Must be off now—pressing busi- ness. Guvod-day, ladies. (Zeit Mr. SwEu.) Laura. He don’t séem so difficult as the rest of the: ‘ap plicants have been. (Ring at the door.) Mrs. M. Perhaps he’ll never call again. I declare, there’s another ring at the door. Go and see who is there. ; Heit Laura. Re-enters in a few moments with Mr. FrepEric MARTIN.) Mr. M. (bowing to Mrs. M.) Do you wish to take a boarder ? Mrs. M. Yes, sir. Excuse me, but will you be so kind as to tell me your name ? Mr. M. Ahem! With pleasure. Don’t be surprised-- | stranger things have happened. Jam Frederic Martin. Mrs. M.. I thought so! Laura. Uncle Fred! Is this possible? (Puts out her hands to him.) Mr. M. Yes, my dear, I am happy to say that it is. And you are my little niece, whom I never gaw before? If first impressions are lasting, as they are said to be, I shall. be _ greatly pleased with the appearance of my little Laura. Mrs. M. We had thought we never sheuld see you. But, thank a good Providence, we meet cnce more ! _ Me. M. Yes; but for one thing I fear we would not have met so soon. Mrs. M. And that? Mn. M. Was your advertisement in this morning's paper. I was so sorry to learn that you had become go poor as ta WHEN I WAS YOUK®. 18 want to take buarders! But, I was glad to learn your ed- dreas even from an advertisement. I have searched a number ef places for you, but in vain. At the place where you .re- sided when Henry was alive, no one knew any thing about you; but, I determined to hunt you up, and have done se. Perbapa if you take me for a boarder it will pay. Here ‘s pay for the first month. (Hands Mrs. M. a heavy purse.) 1 aropose to make you my banker and Laura my cashier. Mrs. M. Thanks. Laura said no good would come o} ey advertising for boarders, but I think good has come cf t already. Did you never get the letter I wrote you a year wor ‘ Mr. M. No. Like you, I changed my residence. Laura. Oh, I’m so glad you’ve found us! Mr. M. So am I, dear. Mrs. M. AndItoo. The life that only yesterday loohed yo dark, now is bright again. Oh, if all the widows and the fatherless had a sheitering hand to protect them, how mary wars would be spared—how many lives made happy ! Laura. Dear uncle Fred, won’t we be happy ! Ms. M. Of course we will. That’s what's the matter! (Clasps her hands as the curtain falls.) . WHEN I] WAS YOUNG.* FOR TWO GIRLS. Characters: AoNT Prus and her niece, Mancanrt, font PRUE tn prim, old-fashioned attire, seated. Mznaanie on @ footstool by her side, half-leaning against AUNT Prew's knee, in a caressing attitude.) Mar. Where have I been? Now, dear Aunt Prue, I shall not tell a soul but you! Will Bright, in passing, stopped to talk, And then—invited me to walk. * This charmingly-conceived colloguy in verse (written for this volume wy a a poct) will prove very ve if the thacacter of old daad well-enetainzed, : TRE Be PUuIATom. A.P To walk? with him? in broad daylight ? He must have had a modest tongue! Beaux did not ask the girls to walk In broad daylight, when I was young. Kian. Why, auntie, should they walk at night The wind was cool, the sky was bright; q We strollec beyond the busy town; Then, on a log we sat us down. A. P. Satdown! Oh, niece! at least, I trus’ He sat at cne end, you at t’other: ‘When I was young, girls never sat On logs, with any but—a brother. Man. Well, aunt, ai first, we sat apart, And watched the river gleam and dart; But Will kept slipping down the seat Until, at last, our hands did meet. A.P. Your hands/ Ob, mercy! what's this work ' What #3 this world a-coming to? Well, well! my consciente’s clear—no man Wer squeezed the hand of your Aunt Prue, Man. The fields were green, the sun did shine: His honest eyes looked into mine ; But how it chanced, I can not say— He kissed me there in open day. : A. P. He kissed you! and you did not scream ? Nor on his leaving you insist? Then you're as bad as he, bold girl When I was young they NEVER kissed. Man, °T'was wrong, I know, dear aunt, but thea It seems the way of modern men, And Will has asked the right, for life To kiss me, as his wn dear wife. A. P. His wife / this caps the climax! Oh (Rises tn excitement and looks at audience through spectacles} Whatever sins to heaven I carry, | Tua free of one/ I never, never, : i When I was young, was asked to marry / THE MOST PRECLOUS HERITAGE THE MOST PRECIOUS HERITAGE FOR TWO BOYS. (Hater Guoree and Jamas, talking.) Gorcs. Iam resolved to leaveschool. What's the use of sponding three or four years in study? I could be learning some business in that time, and then, when you'll just be seady to commence in the store, or at a trade, Pll be getting good wages. So you see it’s lost time, staying here at school James. That certainly is a practical way of looking at the &uestion. If money is the she end and aim, you can not commence too soon to get it. G. Of course, it’s the chief end and aim! What's aman without money, I'd like to know? Why, nothing! A man may be ever so big a fool—or rogue, for. that matter—but if he has money, and lives in style, why, he is just the most in- fluéntial man in town, and everybody bows down to him. J. That proves what? G. Proves? Well, that’s a queer question. It certainly don’t show the value of an education. ‘It shows that educa- tion, or moral worth, even, are not necessary to success, or to @ man’s standing. Why, there is Mr. Ironface. He is so ig- norant, I do believe, that he does not know what latitude and longitude mean, yet you see he is the most important man in the place. J. He is indeed so ignorant that he is deaf, dumb and blind to all the sweet influences of the intellectual side of life, and, with all his money, he is the least to be envied among men. G. That’s as you look at it. Td prefer his money ta Par- ‘en Carter’s culture and threadbare coat. J, And Td prefer the parson’s culture to all the mony vii Ironface coulé pack in his cellar, if, with his money, i had to have his ignorance. . G. Ob, I know that’s your style. You don’t care for power er influence. I do; and as money is essential, money I shall have ; and when Iam twenty I'll beina good posi- tion, if I commence now. All the boys who ever come to say thing, commence at fourteen or fifteen. S. Well, George, if money is your sole desire, aa I said, {ME DIME DIALOGUES. you can not commence too soon to scrape. it together. But, one thing will follow :-——you’ gain gold and lose that mental riches which makes men peers of a glorious realm, the realm of intellect. Oh most grand and priceless privilege that is of; fered io us! Here we stand, in our youth, at the beginning of the pathway of life. Before us are the gates of wisdom —of worldly wealth—of ignorance ; and the angel that becke ‘ug us on bids us take the scholar’s path, for that leads us inte ght and life and glory. Alas, too many, lured by the tempt et that tells of the power of gold, forget that they have an intellect or soul, and gather riches at the expense of all theit noblest better nature—gather riches to die and leave behind them, what ¢ Nothing but what perishes—no name, no fame, no work :f immortal growth! But the student—the man who to the utmost improves his mind—enlarges his happi« ness, takes with him wherever he goes an atmosphere of re finement and grace, is welcomed by all as a superior; is hon- ored, trusted, and becomes the means of doing immeasurable good, in various ways. Where money buys houses and lands, culture secures pre€minence, respect, renown. The mere’ man of money, like Ironface, simply exists. What to him are the stars, or the sublime mechanism of the universe? WNoth- ing! What to him are earth, air, sea and sky? Nothing! What to him are the sweet influences of nature—the beauty that appeals to the senses excited and quickened by culture ? Nothing! What to him aré’art, poetry, eloquence, flowers, grace, music, intellect? Nothing—alas, nothing! He is the human oyster, with no heart, no eye, no ear for any thing but existence ; and when he at last passes away, the world misses him not—is glad, indeed, that he is gone. Ob, envy not such e fate. Shun it ra ther; and when now, ,in the days of youth, you are forming your tastes and habits for life, banish not the good angel thet points pleadingly to the gates that iead to man’s highest, noblest estate ! » Your hand on that, James! (They clasp hands.) Never before did I-sce the true elation which money sustaing, to the wealth of mind. Oh, if I had gone forth from tl halla with only my ignorance for a duwry, what an existence must have been mine! Deaf, dumb, and blind indeed, would I have beea to the most precious and priculess heritage of man THE DOUBLE CUKE, 28 —the heritage of knowledge. No; here I'll stay until I casa go forth well qualified to stand among men, honored and ree spected for what I know and what I can be to others. J. To which I say amen / as do all in this assembiy whe are proud of our country, of her civilization, and of the poai tion which her children hold in the world’s esteem. (Haeuns. THE DOUBLE CURE. & £CCIAL DRAMA, STRONGLY RECOMMENDED FOR FAMILY US® Characters : Prerer, LAMBKIN. Mrs. Dora Baumer, Mrs. Aucesris LAMBEIN. Lucy, @ servant. Grorce BaLMER. Mrs, FLOowERDALE. Mrs. Lampxiy. Ridiculous! absurd! How man could write—or weman could utter such demoralizing sentiments is incredible. Just listen, Dora. (Reads.) “ Julia laid her head on her husband’s bosom, and looking with the confidence of a child in bis face, said, ‘1 am yours—yours, dearest Charles; my whole being seems absorbed in that sweet consciousness. Guide me, sustain me, and cherish me, for I have no will, no thought, no desire that is not yours.” (Rising and flinging the book away angrily.) There! Such detestable principles would subvert domestic government, and destroy the inde. pendence which a woman should never surrender to a conju ga. tyrant. Mus Baumer. (Laughing.) I know your system of mat tinonia. discipline does not agree with those doctrines af passive obedience— Mxs. L. Which, in spite of my advice and exhortations, _you have adopted and practice toward your husband. It is treason t¢ the rights of woman to humble yourself as you do to a man, who, like all his egotistical sex, is only too ready to believe that women were sent into the world to. serve and- ‘Wey their proud masters. a4 THE DIME DIALOGUES. Moa B. That is a fault with which you can not reproach yourself, Alcestis. You rule poor Mr. Lambkin— Mrs. L. As a woman who respects her rightful position In the matrimanial scale should rule one of the creatures. From the day we were married I have kept a tight rein upon my Peter; and although a little restive and stubborn at first, I gradually subdued him, brought down his spirit, and tamed hig @upet, till I can lead him like my lap-dog in a silken thread. Mrs. B. Without consulting his will ? Mrs L. His will?, Hal ba! ha! What a simpleton yu must be to imagine Peter has any will but mine. We had a little tiff on our wedding day which settled the ques- tion, Peter wanted to smoke a cigar after dinner. I forbade the vulgar indulgence; he remonstrated; IJ remained calm, hut firm. At last he succumbed, and the cigar was flung out ef the window. ‘That was the first lesson I taught him. He has never forgotten it. Mrs. B. It is not likely he should. .(2éses.) But as al paen have faults, my husband, I know, has his share of them. Mrs. L. Oh! I’m glad you admit your idol to have some trifling defects, For instance, he has a horrid temper, Mrs. LB. A little hasty, sometimes, but his ill-humor don’t, Jast long. ; Mrs. L. He won't bear contradiction. Mrs. B. I know it; so I never do contradict him. Mrs. L. He is scarcely ever at home. Mrs. B. Perhaps he is happier abroad. It must be se triste for a man to be condemned to perpetual domestic im prisonment with his wife. Mrs. L. I protest, Dora, you’re the most provoking crey ture in existence. But what would you say if your husban preferred the society of another woman to yours? Mrs, B. (Starting. Another! (With an effort) Us should hear no reproach from my lips. Mrs. L. Oh, this istoomuch! You'll be pointed at, child, as the Patient Griselda; your humility will be cited as a frightful example to the whole wedded world; we shall have matrimonial reformers questioning the divine rights of woman, and advocating equality in the married state. Shucking— shecking principles ! : Ss demi obama on mA ECER alana ene ats eat siadinesa tots THE BOUBLB CURE 23 Mars. B. I shall trust to them, nevertheless, to correct my husband’s faults; of his moral truth I can not entertain a doubt. Mrs. L. Ha! ba! ha! It’s a pity to disturb such a sweet, confiding dream, but I’ve observed Mr. Balmer for the last month—ever since we came to live together in this charming marine Villa. Mrs. B. (Sighs.) I thought we should be so happy to gether. Mrs. L. So we are, my-dear, perfectly happy: at least | speak for myself and Peter, upon whom I can constantly keep my eye. I can see him at this moment playing at duck and drake on the beach. Mrs. B. Ah! innocent pleasures for innocent minds. But you were going to say something about George. Mrs. L. True. You must not be hurt by my candor, but everybody perceives that Mr. Balmer pays particular attention to that Mrs. Flowerdale. Mrs. B. Well, I do not desire to monopolize my husband’s attention. © Mrs. L. That is very kind of you, especially as Mrs. Flowerdale thinks, and I dare say Mr. Balmer also thinks, she is irresistible. Mrs. B. I admit she is young, handsome, witty— Mus. L. And a widow—and a widow, my dear, don’t for get that. Mrs. B. I can not forget she is my friend. Mus. L. The greater the danger. I don’t mean fo say that Mrs. Flowerdale meditates the conquest of your busband _ but nature made her a woman, and art has made her a co _ guette; her instincts and her education compel her to seize praesent NSN very victim that comes in her way. Mrs. B. Still I have confidence in my_husband’s metal Principles, and in the efficacy of my own system. 5 Mrs. L. An abominable system, which would render poor married women slaves to the will of their despotic -orda, — Btay—are you willing to test the merits of our respective modes of treatment—your sedatives against my tonics? Mus. B. Syrups versus Bitters. Ha! ha! hal bal Yea, T em quite ready to do 0, and to wager 9 dozen pairs of &% THE DIME DIALOGUES. gloves upor he issue. But how do you propose to make tne trial ? Mrs. L. You know that I have arranged to go to the city this evening, to my mother’s; now nothing would be easier than for you to make some excuse to accompany me and re- — turn with me to-morrow. Your husband won’t object, you © tay be certain. Mrs. B. Perhaps not. But I don’t see clearly the object) M this journey. : Mrs. L. It will be only a feint, for we'll remain here in- air.bush; and while our spouses imagine us chatting cosily © with mother, we will be watching their proceedings at home. | Mrs. B. Capital! I agree to the stratagem—for I know | George will come out of the trial like gold from the furnace. © Mrs. L. And my Peter like steel from the anvil. Hush! _ my precious little partner is coming. Mrs. B. And mine too, I know by his step. (Mrs. L. resumes her seat. Zinter Perer LamBKr.) Prerer Lampxry. Ah, I hope I have not out-stayed my liberty. Mrs. Balmer, howd’ye do? Mrs. L. (Looking at her wateh.) Five minutes past th time I allowed you, Mr. Lambkin. Parer L. I'm so sorry, but duck and drake is such an ex tiling pastime that— Mrs. L. That you forgot your wife’s commands, sir. Perer L. No, really. Your commands are always im- | plicitly obeyed by me—but—a—forgive me this time and I “promise never to transgress again. (Enter Guorer Baumer, smoking a cigar.) Grores BALMER. What a splendid evening fora cigar — (Perceiving Mrs. Lamexin.) Oh! I beg pardon, Mrs. Larab kin, you don’t like smoking: (lings his cigar away.) Mrs. L. ’Tis a practice I detest, Mr. Balmer. I have for | b.dden Peter ever to smoke. Pztrer L. Dreadful bad habit, (Aside # GnorGE.) 1 liad a weed on the sly after dinner. Gro. B. ‘What a number of fine girls were promenading | this evening PETER L. Delicious. (2Recollecting himself.) Hem! Pat | is -I don’t know; I never noticed them. | ne ity ier | [e+ ou ; ct inj ily 16. Ww ne, bl ay he X= | THE DOUBLE CURR 37 (Mins. Bayarm takes her husband's hat and offers to kiss him.) Gxzo. B. There, get away, little fool. Ms. B. How your hat wants brushing. (She goes up the Fhe smoothing his hat with her handkerchief.) wren L. (Aside.) Mrs. L. never smooths my hat. Mxg. L. Place that footstool for me, Peter. Prrer L. (Placing a footsiool for Mrs. Lampur.) There! Put you. dear little tootsicums there, my love. Whata preity pair they are. Ha! the artist who makes those delicicas lit tle boots ough. to bless his lucky stars. (Aside to Guores.) There was a lovely pink pair on the esplanade this afternoun, but Mrs. L was with ms, so I1.could only steal a glance at them. (GroRGnR takes a newspaper from table, throws himself into easy- chair, and glances over tt listlessly) Mrs. L. Peter! Parmer L. Yes, lovey. Mus. L. Fetch my eau-de Cologne from my dressing-table (PETER runs off) Gno. B. (Yawns,.) Nothing stirring; general stagnation. Opera clased; clubs empty. { think I must take a few days’ cruising round the coast. Mrs. L. With Mrs. Balmer, of course ? Guo. B. (Looking irresolutely at his wife.) With—hem Dora. I—a—did not think—a— Mrs. B. No,no! Ym a wretched sailor. George wil enjoy himself much better withdut me. ; Gno. B. (Rising.) Ob, I shall do very well, and you can ~ amuse yourself with your friends and the German band on the esplanade. (Veved.) We shall be very happy apart, (Aside.) She lets me do just as I like. Why the deuce wilt she never oppose me? Mrs. B. (Aside) T adore the sea, and with him it wouid have been delightful (Sighs.) But he has no desire for my Bociety. No matter, 1 can be patient, the time will come—it must come, when my love will conquer his indifference. J (Reénter Paver LAaMBEIn.) Peter L. Here, my dear, is your eau-de-Cologne. (GHees Gz batle to Mrs. Lamexin. Gnroren takes his hat, and is about $e gutt the apartment.) Where are you going, Balmer?, Can't, ? 23 THS DIME DIALOGUMR we have a quiet game of whist, hey? You shall have Ab cestis for your partner; she holds tremendous cards—tha majority trumps—and mostly courts honors in her own nand, Guo. B. I am very sorry, my dear fellow, I must relin: quish so powerful a hand. (Zurns to Mrs. Lampxrn.) The act is, I am engaged to play a match at billiards this even. ng with the Chevalier Carambole. Of course, you have cere tise cil heard of the Chevalier’s famous play—everybody has hearg . : of it, and there are heavy bets on both sides, so I can not possibly — (Hnter Lucy.) Lucy. Mrs. Flowerdale, ma’am. Mrs. B. Oh! show her in, Lucy. Guo. B. (Putting down his hat, and aside.) Mrs. Flower: dale! hem! (Aloud.) I was going to say I was in no par ticular hurry; I can even wait (looking at his watch) for an other hour, Mrs. L. Oh, pray don’t think of sacrificing yourself to our etupid rubber, Mr. Balmer. You have another game to play. Gro. B. (Hmbarrassed.) Not the slightest sacrifice, my dear madam. I am an enthusiast in whist. (Enter Mrs. FLOWERDALE.) Mrs. L. (Looking significantly at Mrs. FLowrepALE} When the Queen of Hearts turns up, (Aside to Purr) Look this way, if you please, sir. Mrs. B. I’m delighted to see you, dear Louisa, though the pleasure must be brief. I am going to the city by the next train and sha’n’t return till to-morrow. (Surprise of Guorax tnd PETER.) Guo. B. Going to the city ! Mrs. B. With Mrs. Lambkin, dear George. I have to order a dress at my milliner’s, and we have arranged to sleep at her mother’s to-night. Prrer L. (Suddenly interested.) Wey! My Alcestis go ing for the night! Hoor—(Suddenly checking himses, and in @ melancholy tone) anh! Then our game of whist is knogmed up, unless Balmer and I play double dummy Gee. B. Like Jouble donkeys. neat seca cnsmaelai Sit iter ene = are pear mtr is tihceensene citi THB DOUBLE CURR % Mua. B. (%o Groncs.): If you have any objection to my going, dear George— Gro, B. Objection! none in the world—go by all means. Turning to Mrs. FLowERDALE.) I must try to support ex- istence in your absence. Prrer I, But we shall be very miserable till they return - shal we not, Balmer ? Gxo. B. Dreadfully miserable. (Zanes a rose from a bow puet which Mrs. FLOWERDALE carries ; kisses tt and places it in his button-hole. They go up the stage und converse apart. Mrs. Lamexrn beckons Mrs. BALMER down to front. PHTER takes a pack of cards out of a box, sits at table, and begins to ur- range them for a game.) Prerer L. (Aside) A game may depress my exuberant joy. (He prances and kicks about under the tuble when Mrs. Lamp 7s not looking.) Mrs. L. (Apart to Mrs. Baumer.) Well, am I right or not? You see the result of your relaxed system of govern- ment. Your husband neglects and treats you with indif- ference—I had almost said contempt—scarccly notices you when he enters the room—proposes a yachting cruise with- out you, and invents a match at billiards to escape from your society , worse still, he makes love to your friend—the widow —before your face. (GroraE and Mrs. FLowERDALE laugh.) I dare way they are laughing at you this moment. Now look at my Peter, playing “ Patience,” like a stupid little goose he ie. There is an example of my system of keeping a hus- baud down. ims. B. (Apart) Down indeed! poor fellow. Mrs. L. (Apart to Mrs. Baumer.) Confess that you have lost your wager, and order your glover to send me home ¢ $oven pairs of Jouvin’s best. Mes B (Apart to Mus. Lampxr.) Wait—the trial isn’t over, J have still confidence in the magic of kindness, and the eeRang. of my system. Prrer L. Bah! I wish that Queen was out of the way. Mrs. L. Come, Mrs. Balmer, or we shall be too late for the train. ‘ Mrs. B. Good-night, dear George. Gzo. B. By, by, Dora (Kisees is hand corelsesig to han BO THE. DIME DIALOGUES. To Mrs. FLowernaLe.) Must you go too, Mrs. Flowerdale ? (In an undertone to her.) Forsake me at such a moment! — Cruel woman ! Mrs. F. (Apart to him.) Hush! I have something ta” eay to you in private—I will return after your wife has left, (Goes up siage.) ; Gro. B. (Aside) In private! Can she have taken my idle flattery seriously ? (dteflecting.) : (Lucy enters with cloaks and bonnets.) Lucy. The train starts in seven minutes, ladies. Here \ sre your cloaks and bonnets. The fly is at the door. Mrs. L. Ob, deaxy! we have not a moment to spare. © (They hurry on their cloaks and bonnets, Mrs. FLowERDALE | assisting Mrs. Baumer. zit Lucy.) Peter! j Peter L. » My dear! Mrs. L. Observe my injunctions, and be in bed at. ten. Pxrmr L, I shall bave one leg between the sheets at the — first stroke of the clock. But I shouid like before retiring to © my lonely couch to take a walk on the esplanade. Just to ask,‘ What are the wild waves saying ?” Mrs, L. Uumph! On the esplanade? (Looks at him suspiciously.) Go! (Aside) I shall be there too. (Mrs, Baumer and Mrs. LamBuxn eveunt, followed by Mus. FuowEr- DALB.) Mrs. F. (Aside to Guorce as she goes out.) Wait! (Hat) ” Perer L. (Dancing and singing) Ri-toll-loll-de-roll-de-rolL. | She’s gone—she’s off! (Flings the cards about.) A Geo. B. (Stts.) You're in high spirits, Lambkin. 4 Perer L. Why shouldn't 1? Pm a free man—an eman- eipated slave! When the cat’s away, the monse may play I'm gomg to join a jolly party at the hotel. You'll come Balmer? We'll make a night of it, my boy! Guo. B. No! I shall stop at home. { Perper L. Oh, hang it, you have no pluck! ‘You don’t — appreciate the luxury of getting rid of your wife (lighting a | short pipe with a match.) Well, if you won't, you won't ; but ‘tig my opinion that the man who fears his wife—in’ her ab- sence—is deficient in the moral courage that every man whe calls himself a man should possese (2*uts ox his hot jawsmisly, and cat, then enier Ses. FLOWKRDALE,) A teenth natn ete eeeictibtite os | ] ile? nt} | 5 ta) eft, 9 my : ere ire, LE ae ta ; co ; i ; 7 i TERE DOUBLE CURT. Gro. B. (Starting up and meeting her.) You come like a Bright vision tu dispel the gloom. (He ts about to take her hand ; she repels him by a gesture.) Mrs. F. A truce with passionate heroics, if you please. The motive for my seeking this private interview is purely that of friendship. \ ; Gro B. Oh! ah! yes! highly flattered, I’m sure—h’m | YrieuJship-—very nice sort of sentiment for young ladies pas ay Mus F- As an early friend and attached schoolfcllow of your wife, I am deeply interested in her happiness. Gro, B. Oh, certainly; quite natural and beautiful, those feminine attachments. I believe that Dora loves you as ar- dently as she does any person in the world, Mrs. F. Except her husband. Gro. B. Ha, ha, ha! People imagine that a-wife whc yields to her husband in every ‘particular must be devoted to him. © Quite a mistake. Dora does not care a straw for me. Mrs. F. How can you think so? Is she not the sweetest and most amiable disposition in the world—never opposes you in any way? - Gro. B. That’s it.. I like opposition sometimes; it’s a preof that a wife takes an interest in you when she opposes you. The very sweetness of Dora’s temper irritates me, Con- trary to my nature, and, shall I confess it, to my affection for lrer, I have endeavored to provoke her to resistance by un. gentle means. I pretend indifference to her tastes and con- tempt for her wishes, I have become a capricious tyrant at home and a careless husband abroad, I have ‘even gone go far as to kick her unoffending lap-dog (Mrs. I. laughs) and would you believe it, she did not fly in a passion. -I mee Either sulks nor reproaches: no frowns, no tears, nothing but that unvarying smile which proves that she has no feel- ing. ; Mrs. F. Have you ever tried to make her jealous ? Gro. B. Well, I—I have ventured te the verge of that dangerous precipice, bul the experiment failed ; nothing could disturb her serenity. Mus. F, Because she trusted in you with implicit faith Now I am going to betray my friend. . THE DIME DIALOGUES. } 1 Geo. B. Yow betray her? ge \ Mrs. F. To secure her happiness and yours. Lucy has ' fi confided to me a profound secret, which I have kept faith- I fully for five minutes. (Confidentially.)—Neither your wile! \| nor Mr, Lambkin’s has gone to the city; they remain here © to decide a wager. . : Guo. B. A wager!—what wager? ; | Mrs. F'. The merits of their respective ways of managing i husbands. Hush! (in a@ suppressed voice.) Speak softly, I i hear Dora in that room (points.) Do you think you could © Hi make love to me for five minutes? (She sits.) i Geo, B. (passionately). For eternity—thus on my knees—~ could I pour forth my soul in love. (He drops on ius knee, and seizing her hand, kisses tt eagerly.) Mrs. F. Very well indeed; capitally acted. Gro. B. (Aside) Pshaw! I’m making a fool of myself. (The door opens. Mus. B. appears at it and seems horror-struck. tA it. Mrs. F. perceives her.) Mrs. F. (apart to Gro. B.) Go on—go on; couldn’t be better. (Mus. B. totiers from the door behind the screen without — being seen by her husband.) 30. B. In what words shall convince you of my love? © Tell me that—that—you reciprocate my passion. (Apart to © Mrs. F.) Is that warm enough? j Mrs. F. (Apart to Guo. B.) A little more ardor if you © can. 5 Guo. B. (More ardently.) Incomparable woman! Best | and loveliest of your sex, I lay my throbbing heart at your Hi | feet. Hi | Mrs. F. Your wife, Mr. Balmer—think of your wife. Gro. B, My wife! Oh! ah! Oblige me by never men- © tioning her; it is you——you only, that I live for, and love. © (A cry of suppressed agony and a fall are heard behind the screen. — Guo. B. and Mrs. F. start up.) ; : } Gro. B, Who isit? (Mrs. F. rushes to the screen, dashes Hi tt down, and discovers Mrs. B. eatended on the floor in a swoon.) it Mrs. F. (Pointing to Mrs. B.) Your wife—who has no — feeling—-who docs not love you; there is the proof! i Gxo. B. My dear Dora!. Oh, I have wronged her cruelly by attributing to indifference the indulgence of a loving heart. h- eo 4 4 2 7 THR DOUBLE cuRZ. : & Assist me, dear Mrs, Flowerdale, to bear her to her chamber where I can explain and justify my conduct. (They raise and support Mus. B. out of the room. When they are gone, Mrs. L rushes in, greatly agitated, and out of breath. She wears a hat and showy feathers instead of a bonnet.) eS Mrs. L. Oh! Bless me, oh! I shall faint; I shall ew pire. I shall never recover the shock; to be accosted and followed by my own husband, who did not know me in this hat of Lucy’s. The wretch, too, was intoxicated, positively, intoxicated. Oh! the blow is too heavy for my feeble frame, (Sinks into easy-chair and covers her fuce with her handkerchief. Then enter Pavur L., his clothes muddy, his coat buttoned awry his trowsers torn at one knee, and his hat battered down upon his head. He is smoking a cigar.) 3 Parmer L. (Singing.) “ For we are jolly good fellows, we are”—ha! hal ha! I wonder why that young party J ran against on the esplanade should have started off when I spoke to her, I’ve no doubt there was a pretty face under that pork-pie. hat, if I could have seen it. Mrs. L. (Rising.) Then see it, sir ! Peter L. (Staggering up to her and looking curiously im her face.) Hal ha! hai ha! By Jove, it’s Mrs. Lambkin ! Mrs. L. Yes, sir, it is your insulted and indignant wife ! ‘Purer L. Ob! ho! ho! ho! What alark! But where did you get that pork-pie hat, hey? It wasn’t fair of you, old gitl, to impose upon me; ’pon me soul, it. wasn’t. Mrs. L. You're drunk, sir; you're in a state of disgrace- _ ful inebiiety, or you would never dare to address me as “ old girl” Permr L I've been enjoying myself with a few friends, Fill the bumper ! Mrs. L. Throw away that abominatle cigar, sir. Permr L. I shan’t. Mrs. L. (Jmperiously.) Peter Lambkin, I command you. Peter L. (Doggedly.) Mrs. Lambkin,I refuse to obey! T stand upon my native carpet and a hushand’s rights, Mrs, L. Retire, this moment, sir, to bed. ~ Peter L. (Furiously.) To bed! Ha! ha! Tl never go to bed unless I like. ll follow the example of my friend Ralmer; Tl kick the dog (kicking the footstool). ll smash 84 3 DIME DIALOGUES che china (knocks over the candlesticx). Tl set fire to the house ~if you'll oblige me with a candle. Mrs. L. (Scereams.) Oh, help! Murder! \Oh, help! (Drops into easy-chair, screaming.) Peter L. (Dropping into easy-chatr.) Hal hat ha! Hot ho! ho! (Hnter Guo. B., Mrs. B., and Mrs. F. At the sama ‘ime Lucy enters with lights.) | Gwo. B. What is the matter? ; Mrs. B, What has happened ? Pserer L. Nothing particular; only—only—I’'m a frea man, and my name is Peter. Mrs, L. Ob, Mrs. Balmer, never was woman so deceived as I have been by that deceitful wretch ! Perer L. Order! order ! \ Mrs. L. I can’t tell you how I’ve been insulted and de fied by a man whom I thuught I had reduced to the most complete submission. 4. Peter L. Men of sense never will be slaves ! Mrs. B. You have lost your wager, teen; for your sys tem of controlling a husband by severity bas been a signal failure. ; Mrs. L. And how has your system of blivd complaisance succeeded ? Guo. B. I can answer; it has made me the happiest, fondest, and most attached of husbands. Mrs. FL. Win! b’m! (Significantly... It might have been | otherwise, Gro. B. Ah! true; it might, but for the assistance of a kind friend. : Mrs. F. Who perceived that in the married state, the ex: ‘remes of harshness or indulgence are alike dangerous, Paren L. (Rising and coming down.) Allow me if the zoused lion may be permitted to decide, 1 should unqvestina: ' bly say that— “ Om Is Burrur ror A Wic THAN VINEGAR.” (Curtain descends.) FLOWER-GARDEN FADRUBS, use FLOWER-GARDEN FAIRIES. ip! . ; FOR FIVE LITTLE GIRLS. | Characters : fol QUEEN. Perrune 1A Bioom Drw BREEZE. } Qvkex. Fairies, last night wes a lovely night: | To tempest disturbed the calm moonlight ; A season of labor for all my elves-~— So, fays of the garden, report yourselves, a | Bloom and Perfume, Breeze and Dew, | There was plenty of work for each of you. Broom. Yes, gracious Queen, the summer is here And the gardens require us, afar anc near, j ’Tis the first of June, and well I know Tis time, high time, for the rose to blow | All night I fluttered from bush to bush, | And with dainty fingers did deftly push I The clinging calyx of buds apart, Till 1 found the rose’s own red heart. Petal by petal, with softest care, I opened out to the moonlit air, Till, on every bush, ’mid the branches green, Small clouds of the sweetest pink were seen, When indolent mortals this morn, arise, They will look at their gardens in glad surprise “ Oh, the roses! the roses!” the child will shout, “The beautiful, beautiful roses are out !” But he'll never suspect in his keen delight, How we elves in the garden worked all nig iit, a Ae : Panrums. Fair Queen, I followed my sister, Bloo All night through the gardens’ moonlit gloom, With my golden vials of fragrance, filled With the sweets from our fairy flowers dist) ied. And I left a drop in the crimson heart : Of every rose which her t uch did part, Till the sleepy bee in his dreams did hum ‘With a vision of honey and summer come THE DIME DIALOGUBA Dew. Sweet Queen, I followed the other two, Weighed down with .ewels of every hue, Which I hung on the blossoms, on brow and breast, Until every rose was in diamonds drest, When the sun comes up, men will see a sight ! Pearls, emeralds, rubies, sapphires bright, Shining and glowing. Will they divine — How the gems were brought from a fairy mine ? Or how I tugged, through the summer night, My sack of jewels for their delight? Brurze. Good Queen, I followed Perfume and Dew, With the magic fan which I had from you. I fanned the warm and drooping flowers— I cooled the birds in their leafy bowera— And in at the windows of mortal man I flew with the wave of my magic fan. The pearls on the lily’s bosom white, — I shook till they burned in the pale moonlight; And I stole the odor of roses red To take to the sick man’s fevered bed. When he awakes from his hateful dreams, He’ll murmur, ‘ How fresh the morning seems.’ Thus we labor all night, with the wish to mske The earth more fair when mortals wake. YuuEN. Well done, fair elves. You have labored wath, And there is the souad of the sunrise-bell ; To-morrow night your task is to ope Honeysuckle and heliotrope. And now to your beds of the thistle-down, And may seftest slumber your labora crows, gEzmsa'S WOVE. 87 JEMIMA’S NOVEL Characters. Farmer Morris. Mrs. Monzrs. Dan Morris. JEMIMA, Sam Biepurrer. Sonse.—A kitehen in the country. Murs. Morris darning seek ings ; JEMIMA sweeping. Jeumss. Oh! marm, I’m tired of this life of drudgery, aweeping and dusting and baking all the whole time. Mrs. M. Lawful sakes! I am surprised to hear you talk s9. I’ve had tew dew it afore you, and so did your grand- marm White, likewise your grandmarm Brown, and I reckon _ what’s good enough for me and them, is good enough for you. Jemma, But I want to shine, marm. Mrs. M. What! Black boots? Jemima. No, to shine as a star. Mrs. M. Laws! how can you, when you hain’t got no red head? You're moonstrack. JEMIMA. I mean, as a star writer. Mrs. M. Writer? That minds me, that you spend all together tew much time up in your chamber a-writin’. What on airth are you writin’ about? If it’s love-letters, you ought to be ashamed of yerself, and you engaged to such a nice likely feller as Sam Bigbutter. Jemma. When I get into my chamber, I think of noth- ing but my Pegasus. Mre. M. Peggy who? You can’t be meanin’ Peggy Swan. Why, you'll never be nke her. I never seen her beat yet. A master hand she was tew work. Allers hag aer clothes out on the line tew dry Monday mornin’s reg’ lar, She allers had plenty of vittles all cooked, in case of company. When she died, you’d ought ter have seen her husband take on. He said he’d prayed not tew miss her zood cooking. Laws! you can’t never begin to cook like her Your father was complainin’ about the bread we had fre breakfast being so dry. Jumma. Why, I only let it stay in an hour tew iétg } Was composing some poetry at the time. ! TB BIALOGUES. Mus. M. Weil, that’s nat’ral. Poetry runs intew the | family, at least on your marm’s side. I made up a piece ones tew speak tew an exhibition. It was like this: We've come tew bid you all, farewell ; Where shall we be this year, a spell? These lines were written by myself. And not a word did I get any help. Jumma. Wasn't that cute ? Mrs. MI was going to have it printed intew the paper. eat they wanted me to pay ’em five dollars, for dewin’ on it, and so I desisted. JEMIMA. Well, marm, I’m writing a book. Mrs. M. You be. What's it about? I’ve got a real nice recipe for making soft soap, you couldn't put that in, | could you? It would save a sight of ‘work, washin’ davs, Y%f people knew about it. Jemima, Oh! It’s going to be the most awful splendid book you ever heard on. (Hnter Farmer Mornis). Faruer M. Hope itll ke better than that ’ere bread you baked this morning. JeMimMA. ‘There’s a young man in it, confined in a lonely ' tower for forty-five years, and never a soul coming near him _ all that time, and nothing to eat but a crust of bread, that ke — never touched. Farmer M. Why wouldn’t he eat the crust of bread ? Jemma. Because, he thought if he did, he should die of © starvation afterward. Farmer M. Wal! that’s likely. ~ Jemma, But, one night, when the pale— Farner M, Which pail, the wooden or the tin? Summa. The pale moon had lighted up the heavings. bc wnight he’d eat it, but it was very hard, Farmer M, Something like hard-tack, I reckon. Jemima, So he got a saw— Mrs. M. Where did he get the saw? Jnmuma. He saw one in the corner of his cell. Mrs. M. Why didn’t the pesky critter use it to saw him- self out of his prison ? Tmusmaa. He thought he hadn't any strength evough fer “e = Ba - 1° ed Dax). JEMIMA’S NOVEL. tai Farumr M. Ishouldn't think he would, after pelng starved to death for forty-five years. Jemima. Well, he sawed for five hours, and finally cut it in two, but, just as he was raising it to his mouth— Farmer M. What! The saw ? Jemma. No, the crust. He fell back dead beat out, ery- jng— (inter Dan.) Dan. Tve hoed all my part of the ’tatur patch. (Es Jama, He didn’t say anything of the kind, He cried out— Mrs. M. Oried? Law sakes, what about? Jemma, ’T'wan’t never known. Mrs. M. What on airth did they dew with the poor man’s’ Lody ? Jemma. They buried it at midnight under a hollow tree. Farmer M. And what did they do with the crust of bread ? i Jemma. They buried it with him, Farmer M. I’m glad they did, for 1 thought I had it for © breakfast this morning. - Mrs. M. And where on airth you going te ss all thia teke place ? Jemma, In New Jersey. Farmer. M. Why, they don’t have no lonely towers ia New Jersey ! Jumima. Well, then I don’t know where to lay the seene _ of my story. Farmer. M. Id advise you to lay it on the top of some nid shelf, and never take it down again. Jemima, There’s only one thing botbers me awfully ; ey story, and that is to know— (Hnter’ DAN.) Dan. -Are you going to kill the pig to-day, Dad ? Farmer. M. Well, I hain’t decided it, (Hxt Dan.) Jemma. Now, ain’t that going to bea splendid story ? When it gets intew print, everybody "ll be buyin’ of it, and I'l make our fortins. Then we’)l have everything we want, and — more too. We'll dine off silver and gold, and when you and warm get old ae take snuff, how proud res feel. ret) THE DDAE DIALOGUES. Mrs. M. No, we won’t, for the parson said last Sabba’day that pride was a ragin’ and a roarin’ sin, a-goin’ about like a rampagious lion, seein’ if it couldn’t gobble somebody up. JEMIMA. J mean that you'll be proud to be able to placa your hards on my head, and say, “It’s by our own “arter’s * exortions we’ve been brought tew this”—won’t you? Mns. M. Yes, I know I shall. I feel jest like snivelin’ now, to think on’t. . Farmer. M. Maybe I will, tew, Jemimy, if you dont kill us Off with the dyspepsia afore that, with your hard bread. But I must go and look after that ’ere pig. (Z2it.) Mrs. M Jemima, P?m convinced you”l amount to some thing, if you’re spared to grow up. But, didn’t you know that all those wao amount tew any thing, die when they’re young, and have white gravestones shinin’ intew the bright i moonlight? If you’ve got a gift for writin’, it won’t be no more’n nat’ral; your family was allers gifted that way, 'spe- cially on your marm’s side of the house. But I must get them air beds made. (rit.) *¥ A somebody. I’m going to keep my hands white, and become alady. Maybe the time ‘Il come when Ill go to England, and see Queen Victory. There, Iforgot that I left my dear ! Alphonso jumping out of a winder. I got stuck there. Tm t a good mind to let him fall right intew his true love’s arma. Yes, Pll do that. . (Zit) (inter Sam, tn a tragic-comte manner.) | fax. Here’s a pretty to do I’ve discovered! Here was } me a-hoein’ that sweet ’tatur patch, and every time I'd look | at a tabbage, Pd think how often it’s been that Jemimn’s said i they put her so much in mind of my head. I was a-thinkin’ make a-watchin’ for me, a-comin’ home from my day’s work, out of her winder. It was a piece of paper, and I felt like 2-hollerin’ out, when I saw ’twas a love-letter writ by Jem my. It made me awful mad, and I felt like kicking all the ’taturs into the Red Sea. I’m going to try to read it once again. There’s a number on the top of the page that says 91, so she ... duirora. Yes; I'm bound to shine. I’m bound to be When I was a-thinkin’ on all this, I saw somethin’ a-flyin’ — must have writ 90 love-letters to this chap before. I can’t how happy we’d be together, and’ what a pooty pictur, she’ |. : PPY g y ke y's 8 ink, hé n't vmMméa's NOVEL. 4 make out his name; it’s furrin. (Reads) “I love you, ag Pve told you before. Td give up every thing for you. It would be hair-pins ”—no, that can’t be it—“ happiness to fly with you and be your mate.” Oh, and wouldn’t I like to a his head! I feel as though Td like to throw. him goings the saw-hoss and saw him to death, and I'll do it too, i ? ean only ketch him. If a gal goes back on me, [ ain’t going “y live any longer. I'll commit homicide. T'll take her old skippin’-rope and hang myself up in the barn, and that’s wha , Til do. (Rushes off.) Jmamma (entering). I thought I heard Sam’s voice, but it may have been the pig, giving way to his dying accents. I gan’t think what's become of one of the pages of my story. Ym sure I wrote it. (Hnier Mrs. M.) Marm, have you seen . thing of — Dan (entering). Ob, sich a row out in the barn. Sam’s got the old ski»pin’-rope, and is tryin’ to hang hisself, only ‘Dad won't tet him. (Hnter Farmer M. dragging in, Sam.) (Zit Dan.) Sam. Why can’t you let a feller alone, when he wants some amusement ? Farmer M. What do you want to go and hang yourself for, when it’s such a busy season of the year ? Bam. It’s al} along o’ Jemimy. Jemma. All along o' me, Sam? Sam.” Yes, you! Hain’t you got another feller, and hain’t you been a-writin’ billy cuckses to him ? Jumima. No, I haven’t, and you'll break my heart for te tack so. Sam. You've cracked mine already ; and, not content with écing that, you must write ninety more on ’em besides. Mrs. M. You ain’t disgraced your family so much, hav “au, Jomimy? Especially your marm’s side of it? Farmer. M. If you have, I'll make you go to bed with. out your supper to-night, to make you pay for it, see if I don’t. Juuma. I’m innocent of the crime accused. You know Pin fanocent, Sam Bigvunen - If you don’t know it, produca per proofs. “San, (Holding up paper.) There, Jemimy, ie what caused | my ‘heart to crack. 8 THR DIME DIALOGUES Jamra. (Taking tt) And your head too, T should say Why, Sam, I’m w iting a book, and that’s the 91st page of it, where Clenientiue Angelina writes a love-letter to AJphonso Brassenton. Sas. Sho! Yew don’t say so! I don’t feel like hangin just now. But what on airth possessed you to write a book? Jemima. I don’t know. I guess I wou’t finish it. ‘Tl leave govel-writing to those who know more about it than I de. Farmer. M. That’s right, girl. I like spunk in a girl ‘And you've gota little on’t. Mrs. M. It’s nat’ral, and comes by way of her marm's side of the family. Sam. Jemimy, I’m sorry I was so jealous, just now. But ff youll be tew hum this evenin’, I'll call and tell you some thing quite important. Jemima. I'll be tew hum. (Znter Dan.) Dan. The pig is a-dyin’ of convulsions, and you'd better hurry, if you want to receive his blessin’. ( AW rush out but JEMIMA.) Jemma. What a pity! Go, all of you, and gaze on the gad, sad sight, and when you come back I’ll relate to you all the incidents of the novel, that, after this momentous day of at- tempted suicide and death, will never—never be writ. Ok, my! an’ Sam’s a-comin’ to-night! Dear Sam! Tl be thar (Haxit.) BEWARE OF THE WIDOWS. FOR THREE GIRLS. = (Enter Karu, reading paper.) Kare. leads.) “And now he cemes. Be- still my heart! I know his tread up the graveled walk. Now he is upon the steps. Oh, moment of pain and bliss. Soon he will look in my eyes whom it is willed I shall cail-~’ (Be — rings.) Bless me (looking up from paper), how reakl «1 just coming to the introduction of the long absent "Henri! kis betrothed, when-- Kaw, Indeed! 1 think I know a great deal, Haven‘ a oe re BHWARE OF THK WIDOWA 4 (Enter Dutch SERVANT-GIRI.) fzrvant. If you bleas, a viddow vill speaks mit you. Kats. A widow? Show her in. Servant. Shoost so! (Zizi) Karr. I wonder how she greeted Henri? Oh, dear, I want to go .n with the story so, and this widow comes to spoil it all. (Hnier SERVANT and Wipow.) Servant. Tish pe te viddow, Matmoselle. (Heit) Karr. Well, madam, what canI do for you? You are poor and in distress, I suppose, as all widows are. That’s the result of getting married. If women only would remain _ single, now much trouble and suffering they. would be spared. ' (Aside.) I wonder what Henri did say ? Wiwwow. I am neither poor nor in distress. Kare. Not? Why,I thought all widows had trouble, and were always in want. (Aside) Ob, dear! did Henri clasp her in his arms? Wiwow. Where did you obtain your ideas of widows? Kars. (Asdde.) I do wish I could have been there tn. have seen their meeting. (Direct.) Ah, what did you ob. serve ? Wroow. I observe that you are wool-gathering ! Kars. What do you mean? Wwow. That your mind is preoccupied. You have in - your hand a story-paper. Are you interested in it ? Kars. Indeed Iam. These stories give a person such life histories—such revelations of human nature, and show a person just how to actin certain situations that I do think they are splendid! ~~ Wipow, Perhaps it was from them that you obtained jour‘ideas of widows ? ; Karn. Why, come to think. of it,I do remember ona — widow who wasn’t poor and jn distress; indeed she waa aplend.d! She was sv much admired, and made such a -Bplendid match! Come to think of it, 1 would like to be widow, » Wiwow. Ah, how very little indeed you know what life - a4 THER DIME DIALOGUES I graduated at Madame Verdisnobski’s Finishing-off school . Haven't I been to Saratoga one season and one winter in Washington? Sv, how can you say I do not know much of Life 1. Wwow. About as much as most foaliionsitily educated young ladies, I dare say, but such an education is one which does you harm instead of good—gives you no correct ideas tf duty—fits you, in no way, for life’s inevitable responsibili- les —but, on the contrary, unfits you for the position ef wife md motner. Karr. How you do go on, to be sure! Why, I don’t want to marry—no, I won’t marry. It’s only the weak-mind- 1d girls wno'want to marry; or those who must have a hus- rand to support them; but I’ve no need of a husband, for will not my papa support me splendidly, and isn’t it much aiccr to have six or eight fellows all crazy about you than to ve compelled to fix up and play prim for one man—a hus- pand? Of course it is! Wow. Well, we will not argue that point any further. When you are as old as I am, and have known as much gor- row, you will then see how fearfully wrong your whole edu- cation has been. Karts. Ob, don’t be so serious—pray don’t! I as old as you! Why, how preposterous ! Winow. Nevertheless, a few years more, and you will see the gray hairs streaking those beautiful curls of yours, and wrinkles will mark your now smooth cheeks. Kats. How ridiculous! Why, that will not be for ever 40 many years, and by that time I'll want a change I suppose, for it would be very stupid to be always one thing. But ‘gighs) dear me, (aside) what did Uenri do? Wipow. What I called for, Miss Kate, was to obtain, throug! you, your father’s consent to bave the new parsonage built on his lot. He is so well abie to give the ground, and the minister so much needs a comfortable home, that I am quite free to ask this much of him, and hope you will enter inte the good work with us. Katz. How ridiculous! What has a girl like me to de with the minister? And, besides, I know if the parsonage is.there the minister wil be coming’in,here, and talking seri- BEWARE OF THE WIDOWS re ous, and lecturing papa, which would be very prone yor know. Wiwow. I know nothing of the kind. He is a very com- panionable, agreeable man, and will be a good ccunselor and guide to you. Katn. There, that’s just it. I don’t want a counselor and guide, for Madame Verdisnobski said, when IJ gradaated, and papa paid her bill of two thousand dedlaws, that I would Beed no further instruction—that I was parfait. Winow. I regret this opposition, exceedingly. I have myself given one thousand dollars toward erecting the build- ing, and hoped— Karn. You give one thousand dollars? “Why, you are widow ! s Wipow. Well? Katz. How can widows be so extravagant? Why, that would buy you one camel’s hair shawl and two or three party dresses, or it would pay two months at Saratoga splen- didly ! Wipow. I see; you are incapable of comprehending the wants and wishes of others, and you are so wholly selfish that it is useless for me to hope for any thing here. Let me bid you good-morniag. (Exit.) Kare. (Calling Servant.) Fraulein! Fraulein; I say! (Enter SERVANT-GIRL.) Servant. Pe you vants any dings? — Karr. The old good-for-nothing! 1 selfish, when I had the name of being the most-elegantly dressed gir] at school. Ob, to be so outraged! Fraulein, never again let in a we man dressed in black. They are all beggars. Servant. Schoost so. Vidders mitout hoospants, und Bix mooch any dings. **Ven dey cooms py te froont toor } shall ax vot for pe your pusiness mit Miss Kate, eh ? é Karr. Yes, turn them away. To think that I should be -ealled selfish ! Why, it was only last week that I didn’t buy a lavender silk because Laura Marcy had one just like it. And when I was at Saratoga I gave my hairdresser that Ying from which I lost the stone. Ob, this is too much. (Cries. : _ Sarvanr. Heeh! Don't gry! It makes your eyes spoik 5 # _ ea 43 THE DIME DIALOGURM. ed, und your sheeks vite, und your mout’ like a lager bier counter mit glasses und pottles on it-- Kare. What? Servant. (le fright.) Oh, noddinks! ; Kare. (Commandingly. Go! (Heit Surnvant in haste) How I am persecuted! Oh, it’s just like one of Miss Brad- don’s stories. I’m a heroine, ] know I am. Madame Verdi- mobski always said I would be, when she let me into ha private room to read her French novels. But, all this time ; J have been kept from knewing what Henri did! I won’t iry to finish the story here. Tl go to my chamber, where no widows—how I hate*widows—can come! Who was it, I wonder, who said, “Beware of the widows.” Byron, I think. Madame Verdisnobski had a splendid copy of Byron in her room, I remember. All fashionable ladies, she said, should know something of Byron. Oh, her school is splendid, ana I’m so glad papa sent me there, for it made me just what I am, and that should be reason enough to. condemn all com- mon schools. Common schools, indeed! Common nuisances rather, for they only give common people education, and what do they. want of education? What fools some people do make of themselves, to be sure! Asif the common peo- ple ever could become cultivated like us! That’s what Ma- dame Verdisnobski always said. (Reénter SERVANT.) Servant. If you blease: your fader he comes in mit te vidder, und she talks mit te house for te breacher, und he says “ Yaw-yaw, schoost so; te breacher he shall haf it ;” tind te vidder says she gifs one tousand tollars over it; und he schmiles; und she schmiles ; und he says, “ You pe a goot nnd peautiful vomens ;” und she says, “ An’ you pe a goot un gonzicderate mans,” und he says, “J likes you, very mooch ; and she says, “I likes you very mooch,” und so—tey be gonic for te breacher ! Kare. Gone for the preacher? Oh, we are undone That widow! Why did her husband die and leave her a ‘widow? Oh, this wicked, wicked world! What shall % dc? : Survanr. I telis you. In Sharmany, ven any dings very \mvoch pad ish happen, den we eats sauer-krout und sheese, 1) a es Para a Coe. - 1 i D ed Sati A FAMILY ROT TO PATTERN AFTER. at und goes to shleep mit ter shickens on ter roost, und treama apout ter dyfel dree times; und den wakes oop und every ding is goot again. Kate. Sauer-krout and cheese? Kah! And dreams of the devil three times? Oh, horrid! But—the widow and - the preacher! Oh, TM do it! Any thing to thwart them and save our family honor! What would Madame Verdi nobski say if she heard that papa had—had—(bursts out ery ng) gone with a widow (b00 hoo-hoo /) to—to— Oh, that is should come to this! Fraulein lead the way. I am reads: for the ordeal. (Hxewnt.) A FAMILY NOT TO PATTERN AFTER. Characters : Mr. Twrnzers, Mrs. Twrrzers, Tim, Dan, Sam, Brix, Box, Many, Nep, (in the order of their relative ages,) Book Pp DLER. [The children should be busy in doing something constantly. Wher . two are conversing loud encugh to be heard by the audience, the rest ghould seem to be talkiug, quarreling, etc.] Sceng.— The home of Mr. Tweezers. (Buu is making a pop-gun. Sam putting a tongue in hia wagon Mary, dressing her doll. Bow, winding a ball from a stocking, Dan and Tim playing checkers— Enter Mr. TwHezirs.) Mr. Tweezers. -Children, where’s your mother? Many. She went over to Mrs. Gypsum’s. : Mr. T. She’s always on the gad. (Seats himself.) Bru. Yes, that’s a fact, pap, I never seen such a womax to run about in my life. Mr. T. (Picks up the family Bible.) Boys, 1 want you te be quiet, I want to read a little; the first boy that goes @uttin’ up, Pil lam him well. (Reads to himself.) Bos, Sam, guess how many bullets I put in my ball ? Sam. What do yer want with bullets in a ball ? Boz. So as to make it sting a little when yer hit » fellow then you know he can’t deny bein’ hit eB THE DIME DIALOGUEA Mary, Your a fool for puttin’ bullets in s bell and playin with the biggest boys in school; they’ll neariy kill you when a Lig fellow like Abe Slipgap hits you. os. Do you think I’m afeard, Moll? Boys ain’t sich spooney cowards as gals is. Birt, I’ve got the bulliest pop-gun in this town Dan. Crown that king, Tim! Bx. T. (Reading aloud and slowly.) “ And the Lord spake 2.40 Moses and unto Aaron, saying—” Where have you been yxa little rascal. (Zo Nup who just enters.) Wep. JI was over to hear Mr. Pineapple preach sam. Ob what a whopper! Nep. Yes I was too. Sam. Why, didn’t I see you and John Robinson goin’ over ie the frog pond on old Slapjack’s place ? Nup. No, you didn’t. I can prove by Martin Mitchell tat me and him went to meetin’ together. Bam. (Giving a long whistle.) Well, Tl be teetotally smashed if that ain’t the biggest lie ve hearn for a month, Nup. Your lyin’ yerself. Mr. T. Shut up, both of you! And now, Ned,I want you to understand that you've got to keep away from Slap- jack’s frog-pond. (Slapping him aside the head.) Nev. (Crying. It’s alla lie of Sam’s. I wasn’t at the pond. Mr. T. . Go and sit down and keep quiet, or you’ll get some more. (Mr. T, resumes reading, making a mumbiing sound ; the audience hears his voice, but do not understand the words.) Nep ll pay you for tellin’ on me, Sam, and makin’ pap slap me Now, see if I don’t, you old booger you! (Nep and Sam quarra in Suntimitine shaking Jists, ete.) Tim. Hold on there, Dan; that ain’t fair Ly a long shot Dan. What's the reason it ain’t ? Tr. You can’t jump backwards with a common man, Dan. I jumped with a king. Tux That ain’t no king. If it was, why didn’t it have a ~ etown on it? Dan. Why, we forgot to crown it when it wse ia the king-row. ae 4 Tua. It hean't been in the king-row. A FAMILY NOT TO PATTERN AFTER. @ Das, Yes it has! Tos. No it hasn't Dan, - I say it has! Tra. I say it hasn’t! Dan. LIsay £ uin’t so! Tm. Lsay you're another ! Mr. T. (ading.) “And the Lord spake unt Moses, say ‘\ng—” Yuu boys had better quit that checker-p. zying if you have to g’.arrel so much. Nup. Moll, guess who got a lickin’ at school to-day # Mary. ‘You, I ’spect. Nev. (Making a “ face” at her.) You hain’t got a bit o° sense. Do you think Pda’ said any thing about licking if I'd ‘’ got one? That's about as much sense as you ever have. Mary. I guess I’ve got as much sense as you have. (Hiwer Mrs. T.) Ma, what made you stay so long? Mrs. T. None o’ your business, Miss Impudence, what. Mr. T. Tabitha, it is strange Sie go aboutso much and itay away so long. Mrs. T. Tweezers, I'll thank you to mind your business, joo. No wonder the children are impudent, and ain’t got no manners, when they have such examples set them by their father. It seems I can’t go to see one of my friends, but what you talk about my gaddin’ about. Ihave to be aslave to you and these abominable boys when I am at home, and I'd die £1 didwt go out, sometimes. ‘The way you go on, these chil jren think they have a right to sass me jest as much as they’ve a mind to. Moll, there, was ready with her sass ag soon as I entered ibe door. You (te Mary) and your daddy go in cohoot to lecture me about my visilin’ do you? TV, teach you better than to sass your mother. (Slaps her cver her Sead und face, Many cries.) Nep. Goody! goody! goody! goody! (Many rune up ts Nap and strikes him with her hand—Nep pulls Marys hair ‘The other boys all laugh.) Mrs. T. Tweezers, haven’t you got any control at all ovcr your children? Mr. T..’ Who raised the rumpus but you, madam ? The _ thildren all take pattern after their mild-tempered mother You beat Mary there without any cause, end just became THE DIME DIALOGUES, Mary asked you the same question I was about to ask, myself. You thoaght you would vex me by beat‘n’ Mary. Oh, but you're a sweet-rempered angel. (Mary, BoBjand Sam laugh.) Mrs. 'f. There! don’t that prove what I was a-sayin’? You go on and jaw and jaw, and so these sassy good-for- nothin’ young-ones git their cue from their precious daddy, and learn to make fun of their mother. You'd better laugk another time, (¢o children,) and ef I don’t mak? you laugh at ‘ie other end of your mouths, ’m mistaken ! j Mr. T. This all goes to prove you don’t know how ty raise children. Mrs. T. Yes, you’re a pretty man to talk about me not kpowin’ how to raise children. You're a splendid hand yaur- self at the businuss! . Trim. (Zo Dan.) Oh, you can’t do that! You can’t make a@ move and then take it back. Dan. TI didn’t make the move. Tim. Yes you did. Mrs. T. ‘Zo Dan and Tru.) So, you’ve got to playin’ eneckers again, have you? Didn’t I tell you I wouldn’t bave any more gamblin’ in my house? (Snatches the board and throws it across the stage.) Dan. Look here, old woman! I like to see people have a . uitle sense, but you don’t have any at all. TIM. Ld jist like to know how that checker- boat waa ahurtin’ © you? Will you please to tell me, madam ? Mansa. TI told you I wasn’t goin’ to have gamblin’ in my. house. Dan. Checker-playin’ ain’t gamblin’, 4 no people what pave sense say it is. Tus. Ain’t we as good a right to this house as you have ? Mrs, T. You're a pretty set of boys to sét there and sauce peur mother, that way ! : Dan. We wasn’t doin’ nothin’ to you when you snutched up our checker-board. Mn. T. I can’t see, myself, what harm the boys was dom’, f can’t see no sin in playin’ checkers. Mrs. T. No; you can’t see no sin in it jest because ft suits you toside with these ’bominable boys ag’in’ their mother, {t's jest like you, Tweezers, and I looked for you to put in Dk r= 4 FAMILY NOT TO PATTERN AFTER. Gi en their side. You wouldn’t have been Tweezers if you hadn’t done it. Mr. T. Well, now just tell me how there can be a sin in playin’ checkers, will you ? Mrs. T. Ive heard it called gamblin’, over and over a hundred times, and I ain’t a-goin’ to have any gamblin’ about me. : Mx. T Oh, you’re a very pious woman; you show yoté piety by, your “daily walk and conyersation,” don’t you j (Tou and Dan laugh.) Mrs. T. (Looking about.) Tf I can only find the broom if I don’t give you ruffianly boys something to laugh at, over we left shoulder ! Tu. Look here, old woman, this broomstick business is about played out with me; fellers of my size is a leetle to big Sor that sort of country produce. (Pronounce the o as in tone.) Mrs. T. (Finding the broom. Well, we'll see whether youre goin’ to go to old Nick in this sort of style. You shan’t go to ruin if I can help it. (Commences beating Tim with the broomstick. Tim seizes tt; he and his mother. struggle for possession of the broom.) Dan. Hang to it, Tim! Sam. (Going up to Tom and his mother.) ere, mam, I'L “help you. Dan. (Laying hold of Sam's collar.) No, yer don’t, now, Mr. Samson Sambo Samuel! Jist let go of that broom, now will you? I’m a-goin’ to see fair play between Tim and the vld woman. Isaw too much of that game when McCoole and Allen fit. Yin. T. (Zo Mrs. 3.) Now you see, madam, what a fuss yrs ve stirred up by your fighting disposition ! Mrs. T. You're 4 nice, kind husband to set there and le& these big ruffien boys run rough-sbod over their mother, (Lets go of the brow and goes up to Mr. T.) I wish I'd ’s’ fever seen you, Tweezers. Me. 'T. Ob, as to that I’ve often suid I'd give five hun- dred if I’a vever been within a thousand miles of you. Mrs J. ‘Well, if you don’t want to live with me you needp’t: you oan go jist as soon as you pleese. I’m not par ticwar ceeut no eusk a man livin’ with me. 52 THE DIME DIALOGUES. Mr. T.. I expect to stay in my own house just as long na I want to. If you want to go youcan go and welcome. Bins. T. If it wasn’t for my children I’d go, quick enough. Mr. T.. Yes, you think so much of the children, you're so Kind, and gentle, and motherly, and mild tempered! . ‘Mrs. T. I think of all the mean men on the top cf the “yarth you're about the meanest. That’s my public »piniow privately expressed. Boxs. Somebody’s knockin’. Mer. T.. Come in! (Spoken very loud. Enter a Book PEDDLER.) : B. P. Ihave a lot of excellent books here and would like to sell you some, (Puts his bundle of books on a. chair—tha enildren crowd around him—quarreling about who shall be near- est the books and pushing each other.) Mr. T. Children, stand back ! Mrs. T. Have you got any good books ? . B. P. Oh, yes, madam. Some excellent books, Let me show you some. (Landing her one.) There is the “ History of the Discontented Pig,” which is a very thrilling story founded on fact. Sam. Pap, buy that, won’t you? B. P. (Handing Mx. T. @ look.) Here is the “ Life ot General Bottlebearer, M. C.” _ It is a thrilling history of many cvents of the late war between the Government and the Se- ceded States, It gives a picturesque history of the capture of Fort Fisher apd--several other things—by the hero of the book Tm. Pap, I want you to buy that for me. (Zaking the Book out of his father’s hand.) : B. P. Here is “ The Life of Brother Soapstone,” the fa _ hous traveling preacher. Are you pious, madam ? Mrs. T. I’m as pious as circumstances permit. B. P. Then this is the very book you want. (Handing Mrs. T. the book.) Mns. T. I think I'll take this book. B. P.- Here is “The Life of General Taylor. ” It gives you a vivid description of the battle of Buena Vista, (Hands fie book to Mn. T.) Goaneral Tagier wes a great hero, sir. . A PAMILY HOY T@ PATTERN AFTER. 68 Dan, Gh, he would do for the times when He lived; but, fiminy blisters! he wasn’t no sich a fighter as Tom Allen Yd bet you a quarter Tom could ’w knocked him out o’ time the fust round. Mr. T. Hold your horses, Dan; we ain’t talkin’ about _ prize- fightin’ now. (The children gr itil 'y get the books scat: tered all ovér the stage, and are turning the leaves over, hunting for pictures.) B. P. Well, sir, (# Mr. T.) wnat do you say? Can’t 1 sell you some of these valuable books ? Mrs. T. I want you to buy “The Life of Brother Soap etone,” Tweezers ; I want to read it myself. Mn. T. buy any books at this time. : Tr. (Yo Mr. T.) Pap, you're yarnin’ like blazes. Vidn’t I see a two-dollar bill in your pocket-book when you raid old Granny Tigerhead, for washin’ ? Mr. T. Well, I paid it out to her. Tr. Nary time! ‘You only give her half a dollar. Mr. T. You contradict me and I'll cowhide you within an inch of your life, you vagabond, you! Tl let = know vou hay’n’t your mother to deal with now. Mrs. T. Tweezers, ain't you goin’ to buy that book for me? Mr T. How can I do it when I haven’s got the money ? Mrs. T. I know you have the money. Of all the mean, stingy men I ever saw, there’s none on ’em can hold a candle _to you! Mister, # B. P.) he never buys any thing J want him to buy. (B. P. goes about the stage, gathering up his books. * Some of them have the leaves torn by the children, tn scuffing for them.) B. P. Isee that some of my books have been torn b she children. Won’t you be kind enough totake tlem? (2 Mr. T.) ? Mn T No, sir; you might have known bitiel than to let them have the books to fight over. I can’t pay dam ages (B. P. looking very angry, takes up his books to leave.) B. P. (Going.) This % a pattern family; I should like very much to be a boarder here. (Aside.) Dan, (Zo B. P) Ef yer brings the life of Tom Alloa, THE DIME DIALOGUES. the next time yer comes, I'll have money enough to buy it by playin’ marbles for keeps. (Zrii B.P. Mr. T. lights his pipe, takes a newspaper, props his feet on the chair before him, and commences to read.) Mn;. TI. Tweezers, I wouldn’t have thought you'd have showe.| your mean stinginess right plain out before a stran- ger. Ef you didvt care any thing about me, you could have 3f on tt you was some part of a man by buyin’ a bock that your wife wanted you to buy. Mr. T. (Without looking up from his paper.) You want to buy something of every dirty scalawag of a peddler that comes along. I’m a-goin’ to put my foot down on patroniz- in’ peddlers. Mrs. T, Look here, Tweezers; ef you’re so pesky stingy as to refuse to buy me a book that I wanted, ’'l thank you to pay me the money you sold old Browser fot. Mr. T. Old Browser wasn’t your mare. Mrs. T. She wasn’t! Didn’t you swap old Brindle for her ?—a cow that give four gallons ata milkin’? Whose caif was Brindle? Old Sweepstakes’. Who did Sweepstakes be- long to? To me, sir! My mother gave her to me,’sir, aad not to you. Tr.” That's so, pap. Dan. No, it ain’t. Grandmother give Sweepstakes to pap. \ Mr. T. The law says what belongs to the wife belongs to the husband—that is, when it speaks of movables ; and I had a right to sell Browser and put the money in my pocket. — Mrs. T. No you hadn’t; and Til-soon let you know you - hadn’t. Dll make brother Tommy sue you. He has just beew nade a lawyer He'll let you see who a and Sweep takes, and Browser belonged to. Tr, That's right, old woman! Stand uptohim (Ms, T. tn tilting up his chair falls over backward. The children ah gather round him, laugh, and are very boisterous.) Dan. Pap, you lovk like a coon throwin’ himself cn hw back to fight.” Mu. T. (Getting up and “ going for” Dan, who runs ou Pi coon you—you—you sassy villain. (Hix ) (Curtain, fails) ste Le ome HOW TO MARAGE.—-AN ACTING CHARADE. & BOW TO MANAGE.—AN ACTING CHARADE. FOR MALE AND FEMALE, . MAN- 5 Characters : JONES, & young collegian, Prim, an elderly maiden. Susan, @ parlor maid. ‘Fonn.—A neat litle parlor ; a window with curtains drawn ca the end of the room, wiih a sofa near tt. A noise is heard ta the distance. Cries of “ Stophim !” ete. Enter Joux JONES, | tn college cap and gown, panting and out of breath. Jonrs. What a mercy! MHere’s an open door! I can hide here until those confounded bulldogs are off the scent. By Jove! what a snug little parlor! Some old maid’s sanc- tum, Vl be bound. (A noise ts heard. Oh! hang iti now _there’s somebody coming. _ Pll just get behind these cur- _ tains, I’m thinking, for a few minutes. (Gets behind the cur- | tains, and in so doirg drops his glove and handkerchte/ on the - - floor.) 7 (Znier Miss Pro) Miss Pro. Well, I certainly thought I hewd a uoise. _ Sounded to me like the creaking of a man’s pnvvts, (Smif's violently.) Indeed, I feel convinced that I cam smell them new; but I hope it is only my fancy. (Seats hersely’ on sofa. Seer pocket handkerchief. Rises and picks tt up.) Goodness F gracious, mercy me! What have we here? A man’s hand- kercluef! and a man’s glove! Susan! Susan! (Rings hell vislenty,) : (Znter Susan.) Susan. Did you please.to ring, Miss ? Nise P (Severely.) Susan, I found a. man’s handkerchiet and a man’s glove upca the carpet a mcment ago; pray, do you know how they came there? Susan. La! Miss, not I! 1 haven't the least notion! Miss P. Well, there certainly can be no mistake as to ita . being a man’s pocket handkerchief. (Hzamines’ the corners.) Yes, I waa sure of it—“John Jones, 4)’ in marking-ink in wet corner, and smelling disgustingly ot tokecco. Diegust * ae 63 ‘THE DIME DIALOGUES ingly, Susan! ‘Take the nasty thing away. (Throws & from 9 her.) I only trust it has nothing to do with any follower of yours, Susan. ' Susan. Oh, no,I do assure you, Miss. (Curtain shakes evsibly.) Ob, lawk-a-mercy me! what fever’s that? (Zrem- | bles violently.) Miss P. Susan, I’m convinced that conscious guilt‘) Jonus sneces) Good gracious, Susan, what’s that horrid piso ? Susan (Jrembling.) Please, Miss, I do believe it be a | jobber—or.—or—or (JONES sneezes again more loudly) a ghost ! Miss P. (Angrily.) Don’t be silly, child; look behind the curtain immediately, and tell me what it is. Susan. Oh, Migs, I dursn’t do it; indeed, I dursn’t. Miss P. It can be nothing but the cat. Here, puss} puss! puss! (Draws curtain gently back, disclosing Jonns.) Ah—a,man! a horrid man! (Screams violently, and, as Jones advances, retreats backward toward sofa.) Jones. (Advaneing.) Really, ladies, I can’t tell you how grieved I am to have caused such unnecessary alarm. I as- sure you, madam— (Advancing toward Miss Pri.) Miss P. (Who, retreating step by step, finally falling back on the sofa, and feedly beating the air with her hands.) Go away, go away | : Jones. Really, now, my dear girl— (Turning to Susan, who screams violently.) / . Susan. Oh, lawk-a-daisy, my good man, now do go away. (Retreating tnto « corner.) Jones. Well, I begin to think it’s the best thing I can fio! By Jove, one weuld really think J was a hippopetamur “pated af @ MAN. ( Beit.) (Curtain falls, BOW TO MANAGE.—AN ACTING CHARADR. AGE. Characters : Maas. WHASHL, Two old maids. Miss Prm, Susan, parlor-ruaid. = —Hvening. The same little parlor ; a table set with tea ; things for two. ww f es Well, Miss Prim is fashionatle to-night! A | httle extra rouge, I suppose. He! he! he!- Poor old thing! 8 t Pts astonishing how some people can fancy themselves young ! nd } Why, Susan has forgotten the sugar,I declare. (Rings. En- tery Susan with sugar-basin. At the same moment a knock 4 feard at the house door.) Run, Susan, ang open the door. s1 | There she is, I declare! I mustn’t let her find out I have | 3.) taken to spectacles, though. (Zukes off the spectacles and hides them under tea-tray.) } - Miss Prot. (Outside.) Here, Susan, take my cloak, and tay pattens, and my umbrella. (Susan shows in Miss Pro.) | Weaset. So kind of you, my dear Miss Prim, to drop in | tn this friendly way ! Bs Pros. Not at all, my dear Miss Weasel; not at all! I —&ssure you I am quite delighted to come. ; Weasey. Do take a chair and make yourself at home. Prim, (Seating herself, and settling her hair.) Vm afraid | Vm not very tidy. Ahem! What do you think of my new. | Parisian cap, my dear Miss Weasel ? | WEASEL. (Aside.) Conceited old cat! (Aloud) A sweet ‘hing, indeed,-Miss Prim. Oh, very much so, A leetle juver Bile, perhaps, but still tasty—very tasty. You don’t take _ bugar, I think, Miss Prim? : Pro. No, I thank you, Miss Weasel, I never. take, fugar. He! he! Your question, my love, reminds me of a tea-party I once assisted at—at my Lady O'Flanagan’s ; and her eldest son—a very nice young man he is~asked me pre- - fisely the same question. “ You don’t take sugar, Miss | Prim?” says he. “No, I thank you, my lord,” says I, “I |. Bever take sucar.” “Faith, thin,” says he—for he was ag 88 - ‘TH DE PIALOCGUES, Trishman, my love—“ you don’t nade it,” says he, “ becausa you’re so swate yourself,” says he. He! he! he! Weasen. (Aside) Old fool! He! he! (Aloud) Very 300d, Miss Prim; very good. But I t}-~-'- -on not to favor ine with any more stories of those o!, > creatures— men. 3 ¥ Pro, Oh! indeed; my dear Miss Weasel, you need never be afraid of hearing any thing the least objectionable from me; I an assure you, my dear friend, I abhor the whole sex. Weassr. Humpb! ; Prim. From my youth up I have always been noted as a perfect model of propriety and discretion, while I may add that my manner has always been celebrated for ifs sprightli- * ness and grace. Jor this I am indebted to my excellent aunt, Miss Crump. “ Never,’ she would say, “raise the voice in speaking, and, above all things, choose such words as leave the mouth in a becoming form., Pupa, potaives, prunes, and prisms,” she would say, “ are most musical words, and leave the mouth in an attractive shape.” She was always most particular to avoid such odious epithets as father, mother, and such like, and invariably made use of the more euphonious titles of papa and mamma. Do you know, my dear Miss Wea- sel, to this day, on entering a room, I never take my fingers from the handle of the door without ejaculating the words prunes and prisms. Weasen. (Tossing her head, and aside.) J can’t stand this any longer! (Aloud.) All I can say is Miss Prim, that I am ‘quite astonished to find that, at your age, you have not long ago given up such follies and vanities. Frm, (ising.) Atmyage,maam? Ilkethat! Speak " for yourself, Miss Weasel! At any rate, I am but a chizken gompared with some people, ma’am! Why, it was but lasi week you wae taken for my mother! e WEasEr. (Starling up.) A nice young chicken to mother, indeed! Why, ma’am, you must be sixty if you are a day. Pros Sixty, ma’am! Then, as I know upen the very nest authority that you have considerably the advantage of me in years, whet must you be, I should like to know? (Draws spectacles fron, under tea-lray, an& shakes them triumphantly at WeaskEu.) Fle! he! he! This is indeed a charming discov: ~ cause | Very favor ‘es— from lever BOX, [| ROW TO MANAGH.—AN ACTING CHARADE 53 ery! At any rate, I’m thankful to say J have not yet been obliged to take to spectacles, as it appears some people. have Waser. (Snatching spectacles.) No, ma'am, you are “quite ugly enough without! « Prm. I did not come here to Le insulted; ma’am, so I think IT had better take myself off. ‘Weasei, (Shaking her elbows at her.) And the sooner yor do, the better, ma'am ! (Zzit Pros) (Curtain Sails.) MANAGE. Characters : ADOLPHUS, Miss WiASEL, maiden aunt. AMELIA, her niece, in love with ADOLPHUS. Susan, maid-servant. o Scenp.—A drawing-room. Ame tA, SUSAN. Ametra. Well, Susan, you must help me to an idea, or [ shall certainly go owt of my mind. Only to think, I hada letter from Adolphus yesterday from Portsmouth, saying his regiment had just landed from“ India, and, of course, poor fellow, as was very-natural, he wanted to come off here di- rectly to see me. I told this to Aunt. Weasel, and, would you believe it? though he’s my own cousin, and we havé been all but engaged ever since we were children, she declares it won't be proper for him to see me until she has papa’s sanction for his doing so! And papa still in the West Indies, forsooth } Was there ever any thing so provoking?, She declares. he gha’n’t cross the threshold, if she knows it. I wrote to tek him iximediately, but he always was so dreadfully impetuous, Pm frightened out of my wits for fear he should come dash- ing off here in defiance of every thing, and you know it wouldn’t do to put Aunt Weasel in a passion. Susan. Im! don’t you worrit yourself, Miss. It will be girange, indeed, if we don’t manage to smuggle him into the knowing it. (Postnan’s rap. mouse somehow without her Letter fas Fei Susan. Returns with a leiter in her Vand.) you, Miss; Portsmouth post-mark. 7 68 THE DIME DIALOGUES. Aumrita, (Reads. “Dearust Anan: Don’t alarm your self. We'll circumvent the old lady yet. Read the dillet-doun inclosed, and. deliver it to the maiden aunt with my p1ofound- est salaam. If I don’t seé you before the day’s out, my name’s not—ApoLpuus Fasrsoy.” What can he mean? Susan, what am I to do? and, good gracious! here comes Aunt Wea- scl just at the wrong moment. Susan. Not at all, ma’am, Don’t he say you are to girs her the letter:inclosed ? (Hnter Miss Waaset.) Ametia. (LHesitatingly.) Oh, aunty, dear, this .etver is for you to read, 1 believe. . Weasun. (Reads, first putting on spectacles, “ My DAR Youne Lapy: This is to give you notice I be a passing through Chester to- seek: and 1 hopes the kind lady you. be a staying with won’t object to your old nurse sitting an hour or so With you in the course of the afternoon; and hopping you are quite well, my dear child, I am, with my love and duty, your affectionate old friend and servant, Mantua Goop- Bopy.” (Aside.) A very good idea. I will warn the old woman to keep a sharp look-out to see that: that horrid wild young cousin of hers doesn’t come near her, (Aloud.) No objection at ‘all my love. Nurse Goodbody may come when she pleases, She may as well take a cup of tea with you, perhaps, in the back parlor. I never saw the good old soul in my life; what is she like, my dear? Amunis. (Stammers.) Oh—why—s--a— Susan. (Quichly.) Tall, ma’am; very tau, I think—aad upright fora old woman, Why, here ghe comes already, 1 do believe! (A knock 18 heard.) (Hatt Susan.) Re-enter Susan, ushering in ADOLPHUS, dressed as an old woman, Apoupuus. (Curtseying all round.) Ladies, I hones I seag you well. My dear young lady, it does my old heart goed te see you. (Kisses her ; salutes Miss WEASEL.) Wraset. (Zo Amuxtis.) Just tell Susan about setting the tea-things in the back parlor, my dear. (Aside to ADo1.PuUs.} My good soul, did you ever happen to meet Captain Fastboy at my brother’s house in Shropshire ? (Heit Susan.) Apotpaus. Oh, yes, my lady, bless you! and a» very werthy, rexpestable young gentioman he is ‘ Te ide ie ae ud) ids e's n, ir _ a Ae THE VACATION PSCAPADE. 61 Weasxx, (Snappishly.) Ah! I shouldn’t wonder. How- ever, whatever he may be, I have no intention of his setting foot in,this house until my brother’s return. And mind, now I shall trust to you, Mrs. Goodbody, to keep guard over my niece? the whole of this afternocn and to see that no one comes neur her but yourself Apoupaus. (Forgetting himself.) Oh, by Jupiter! (Clape as hands over his mouth.) Wrasen. (Hyes him suspiciously.) Eh, what did you esyi airs. Goodbody ? ; Apouruus. (Putting his hand to his heart.) Beg pation, avlady. It was enly a spasm as took me in the side; yes, milady, I quite understand, and Pll be sure to do exactly aa you say, ma’am, And many thanks to you, ma’am, for your guodness. (Curiseys.) Waser, (Zo Ametta.) So now you may go into the back parlor, Amelia, and take your tea. Good-evening, Mrs. Gooubody, good-evening. (zit Miss WEASEL.) Avoupuus. (Throwing off bonnet and cloak. My dearest girl, 1 have had a letter from your father by to-day’s mail, tellmg me he. shall be at home to-morrow, so we shouldn’t have had long to wait; but in the meanwhile I could not re gist a peep at you. I knew we could manage the old lady between us. (Zukes her hand.) : Amenia . Altogether, I think we have managed it pretty well e They bow to the audience. Curtain drops.) THE VACATION ESCAPADE. FOR FOUR BOYS AND THACHER. Brter four boys—Paub, OuaRLES, HowArp and ALuErt, a8 having books as if going home. Paunt. Well, boys, vacation has come, and now for a play- spell. I’m vary tired of school and shall not think of books for the whoie two mozthe. 63 THE DIME DIALO@URA Cuas Norl! How. Norl! Paun Al. is silent. I wonder what he is going to do? Rock the babies, or drive his sisters to church, or sweep out the Minister's library for the privilege of reading his sermons? Au. (Laughing.) And you probably will shoot all the cata ] shborhood, spear all the frogs, tie tin pans to all the , catch all the bullbeads, plague all the hired girls, and make your father wish he hadn’t such a boy. Cuas Now he’s bit you, Paul. 7 How Especially on the bullheads, for Paul has got a pocket fall of fish-hooks already. Pav. Well, what’s vacation for but fun? And if I en- joy seeing cats double up and sputter like powder-wheels, why, V’ll shoot cats; and if is fun to see dogs flying like rockets with a tin pan serenade on their after-deck, why, tin pans must suffer and dogs must go for the doctei. How. And how about the hired giris + Cuas. Oh, He'll let the girls alone, he’s such a bashful chap Au. And so considerate of others’ comfort. ; Pact. ‘ Avast there, you lubbers !” as Cay “ain Bobstay would address such a mob of greenhorns. I'll wake Bridget say: “ What a broth ov a b’y ye ar’, to be sk we,” an’ she'll cook me up nice things six times a day; and ii — Onas. And if she don’t, what then? How. He'll put his fish-hooks in her hair »ad the dead cats im her bed. é Au. Ob, no; he’ll bless her for a saint. Pavut. What a set of spoons you are! If the don't. fod der me right up to the mark, I'll simply talk Hullana bute} to her, and she’ll be so frightened ‘hat I'll have three kinds of pie every day for dinner. Au. I see your ideas of fun are decidedly pie-ous; I ab ways gave you eredit for much pie-eat-y, you know. Will you ask any of your friends to enjoy your hos, itality ? Cras, Enjoy what? How. His horse called Tality. Pau. Knight Hospitaler,I am. I here.y invite each ead orery one of you to coms ezd vicii ma ‘“kou are to bring THE VACATION ESCAPADE. 63 along your own provisions, and we'll all sleep at the tavern except Al., and he shall sleep in the hen-roost, he’s such an early riser, . Au. Any thing toaccommodate. What breed of chickens | ad you keep? Cuas, What's that got to do with it? Au. Very much, I assure you. It wouldn’t be so very bad, you see, to take lodgings with a Coach in China, Es iwing in a hammock with Brahma. ; (Hnter PROFESSOR.) Pror. Ha, boys, on your way home? TI trust you all will pass a happy vacation. You have been pretty fair stu- '. dents, and I hope you will return to study with renewed zeal. | What do you design to do, Paul? Paun. (Looking very demure.) I shall probably walk over the hills and fields and gather wild flowers. Pror. Very good; it will give you health and appetite. Don’t be so cruel as to use a gun, for that is wicked. - Pauu. No, sir. (Winks, aside, to the others.) Pror. What will you do, Charles? Cuas. VIIl—I’ll probably go and see Paul. Pror. That's right, and take along with you your Alge- . bra, for it’s capital to slay, out under the trees, and work out equations, Cas. Yes, sir, capital fun, (Making wry faces, aside.) Pror. And you, Howard, what do you propose ? How. Gentleman, For eight foo ng of the Muses, ive Engl 's Coronation. For two ladies. sal, For six boys. h will you male and fema’ Three Sce e ». _Malaand female. The Yenr’s F Sniffies’ Conte ‘ 1 ile. |The Village with 0 ladies, | males sud one m DIME DIALOGUES, NO. 2. eis and 1 ale. How to Write ¢ Pepular? Sto Cinderellas or, The } Slippe The New and the Old, For two m Doing Good and Say I Rnvantacs. A Sensation at Last. For two male The Golden Rule. Two tian md: two fem: norn. For two males, Gift of the Fairy Queen, Several females. ec Men of Science. For fonr males« ’ ‘or. For two Gharacters. d Lady’s Will, For four males, The Country Aunt’s Vis.t to the City. For sev-|The Little Phil sophers, For two li oe girla, eral characters. 4 How to Find an Heir. For five: Por two males. The Virtues. For six young lad acters. For threo males. , jal Eclogue, The Happy Family. For several ‘aniwals? igs Fivemales and one female, The Rainbow. Fe~ several eliaracters. oe For two mules. DIME DIALOGUES, No, 3, The May Queen. Yor an entire school. ‘he G Hast Cook. For tio males, Dress Reform Convention. For ten females, or two males and two femataa, ) ing Bad Company. A Fu For fiveimales, The Two Rol For two males. ing Under Difficulties. 2 males, 1 fenial | The Same. ondscene, Fortwo males, nal Representatic es. A Burlesque. 4 males.|Showing the White Feather. 4 mala. 1 femrle. Pecxgihz x the Draft. For numerous males. ne Battle Call. A Recitative, For one mule. DIME DIALOGUES, NO. 4, The Trost King. For ten or more persons. The stuf hretown Vi olunteer, 2 males, 1 aes Jes, 8 ) Fi The Genins of Liberty. Two malas, - rti gin Life, "Il om * Paul Pr riour h, Hope and Ch 1a For thres males and one fe uy °F en BOO} For three Jittl For fur males, r twenty males. fl tier. Fh c-iWoliadane DIME DIALOGUES, NO. 5, bes school or parlor. Putting ‘on Airs, ACollpqny. For two males, e Pe Fa ce. The s ht Mork. For several bows 1 females, [Two idens of Lif Colloquy. For ten girls. dateacher, |Extract f latino Faliero, Jo charagtera,|Ma-t . An Acting Charade, y (Phe Six Virtnes, For six voung la [Fes Trishman at Home., For ‘evo males Schoo! Boys’ * Loose Tongue, Severa Fashionable uiremen For three girls. Low Not to Get an Auswer, For two femulea, /A Bevy of I’s (Eyes). For eight or less little girle | ” DIME DIALOGUES, NO. 6. TheW Vay They Kept aSecret. Male and females.|The Two C ‘lounselors. For three males. Tho Poet under Difficulties. For five males. The Votaries of Folly. For a number ot famaies. William Tell. For a whole school, \nnt Betsy’s Beaux. Four females and two males Woman’s Righta, SeVen females and two males.|The Libel Suit. For two females and one male, All is not Gold that Glitters, Male and females.}Santa Clang, For a nwunlrer of boys. The Generous Jew. For rix males. Christmas Fairies, For severalglittia girls, | _ Baopping. For three inales aud oue female, Fhe Three Rings, Fer two mates. Bouse va. sentiment, Wer parlorand exhibition. c Dime Schoo) ———— Sertos=D inlogmes. DIME DI ALGGUES Wo, a phe two beggars. For fourteen ales. + The enrtl-ehtld in fair id. For girls. Twenty yo females, one mals The way to W indha « For two mules. Woman. A pee The ’Ologies. A Col sv to get rid of a bore. ‘ding-school. ‘Two males and two feinales or the plaige. Wor two males. ills of dram-drinking. Por three boys. pride. A colloquy. For two feinales, he two jecturers, Bur numerous mules. For two males. For several boys, Phe fairy School. For a number The enrolling office is The base ball enthusins: i rl of the peric fe “For th The towl rebellion. ‘I'wo mal Slow bvtsure. veral im Caudle’s ve lot pede. One 11 The figure: sever The trial of Peter Sloper. For seven boys. a one female. Advertising “or help. For a number of fer America to “nglaud, greeting. For two boys. The old and the new. Four females one male. Choice of trades. For twelve little boys. For two fe male For four s and one mate. For two bos philosophy. For females and males. A goud education. “For two females. passage at words. Two bo 1 aa one female. Jes and two females. DIME DIAL Two views of life. Colloquy. For two females The rights of masie. Vor two fema'es. A hopeless case. A qu averse. ‘I wogirla, The would-be school-teacher. For two males. Come to life too soon. For three males. Eight o’cluck. For two little giris. ‘True dignity, A-colloquy. For two boys. Grief two expensive. or two males, Hamlet and the ghost. For uwo persons. Little red riding hood. For two temales. New application ofan old rule. Boys and girle Colored cousins, A colloquy. For two males, DIME DIAL GUES No, 8. Getting 2 photigranh, Males and females. Lhe society for general improvement. Vor girls, A noblemin in, disguise. Three girls, six boys. G at expe . For two boys, Vey i ¢ se ool. Five females and four males. Cloth) , for the heathen. One male, one femalee A had case. For three boys. Ghost’, For ten fomnales and one mate, OGUES No. 9. The law of human kindness, Yor two females, Spoiled children. For a mixed school, Brutus and Cs number of g'rls. . Bor three males, on (No. 2.) For a school. Mrs. Liuckland’s economy. 4 boys and 8 girls. Should women be givea the ballot? For boys. IM DIALOGUES No, 10. Mra. Mark Twain’s shoe. One mate, one female. The old flag. pol festival. For three boys. The court of folly. For iw Great lives. For six boys a x girls. Scandal. For numerous males and females, The light of love. Vor two boys. The flower children, Jor twelve ginls. Tire duaf uncle. For three boys. A discussion. For two boys. The rehearsal. For a school. The. true wa: For three boys and one girl, A practical life lesson. For three girls. The monk and the soldier, For two boys. 1176-1876, School festival, For two girls. Lord Dandreary’s Visit. 2 m ules an nd 2 females, Witches inethe cream. or 3 git's and 3 boys. Frenchman. Charade. Numerot’s characters, Ps DIME DIALOGUES No. 11. Appearances are very deceitful. For six boys. The conundrum fam ly. For male and femaie. Curing Betsy. Three males and four females. Jack and the beanstalk. For five characters. The way to do itand not todo it. 3 females, How to become healthy, etc. Male and female. The only true life. For two girls, 5 Kor two boy. and Crist Il. ‘famerlane and Bajazet. Yankee assurance, Fors Boarders wanted. For s Wien Iw The mgat preci¢ The double cure, The flower-gariden fa Jemima’s novel. ‘Chree Beware of the widows, Fox three DIME ‘DIALOGUES WO. 18, For three males, Two o’clock in the morning. An indignation meeting, Before and behind thescenes. s. The noblest boy, A numberof boys and teacher, Blue Boards 3A dress piace, For girls and boys. ‘Not so bad as itseems. For several characters. A curbstone moral. For two males and female, Fashionable dissipation. For two little girls. A school charade. For two boys and two Ciel, an In: zelow’s ‘Songs of Seven.” Seva. i, thy Ad Yor four boys. Rag oa Dick’s lesson. For three boys. School charade, with tableau, A very questionable § « For two boy™ For thr-e y he real gentleman. or two boys. DIME DIALOG UE $ NO, 12. amily not to pattern after. Ton charactors, An acting charade. de. Four t and teacher. hree females and a male. tters. Acting proverb. Sic transit gloria mundi. Acting charade. Worth, not wea'th. For four boys and a teacher. No such word as fail. For several maies, ‘Lhe sleeping beauty. For a schoo'. Ann innocent intrigue, ‘Two males anda female, Ola Nably, the fortune-teller. For three girls, Doy-talk. For several little bors, Mother isdewrd. For soveral Hitle.girls. A praotical illdstration. For twe boys and girl ‘tre. Jo Phe bor More ag . } ? Phe su A prac The fa ‘A poe emaleg Ogirla, Liles, A 4 DIME Bimo School Serles=Dialogues Mrs. Jonas Jones, Three geuts and two ladies, Fhe burn genius, Four four g More th: list ner. for four rate and lady. ) Who en eavih is ied Vor three g The right not to be a paupe or two boys. Voman nature will out. Kor a girls’ school. chelor. For two boys. For five persons. Por six lite girls, ‘Te surprise purty. A practical demonstration, Por three b ; DIME DIALOGUES No, 15, The fairies’ escapade. Numerou characte A poet’s perplexities, For si ntlemen. A For two ladies and one gent. + A nun For two boys. The little phiilosopiters « For two little girls, Aunt Voliy’s lesson. For four ladies. A wind-full. Acting charade. Fora number. Will it pay? For two boys. vl boys. | DIALOGUES No. 14, evernl charactere Refinement. Acting charade, S Conscience, the arbiter, For lady and gent. How to make mothers happy. For two beyge A conclusive argunent. For two girls, ‘A wonian’s blindness. For three tirls. Runs work (Venperance) For four genta, The fatal mistake. For two young ladies. Eyes and nose. For cne gent‘und one ladys Retribution, For a number of boys. The heir-at-luw. For numerous males. Jon’t believe what you hear. lor three Indi y rule. For th ’s resolve, friends. For several charu 's t oubles, For two ladies. ‘The cat without an owner. Several charactora, Natural selection, For three geutlemer. rs. DIME DIALOGUES No. 16, Polly Ann. For four ladies and one gentleman. The meeting of the winds, Kor a school. The ood they did, For six ladies. The boy who wins, me six geutiemen, juy. For three girls. ’ or three boys. The investigating committee, For nine ladies, A “corner”? in cogues. Vor four boys. DIME DIALO LITTLE FOLKS’ SPEECE To be happy you must be good. For two little gi Is aud one hey. Evane-cent glory. For a bevy of boys. The little peacemaker. For two little girls. What parts triends. For two little gi Martha Washington tea party. For fi girls in old-tinre costume evil there is in it. For two young bovs. ise and foolish little girl. For two girls. A child’s inquiries. Hor small child and teacher, The cooking club. For two girls and others, How to dy it, For two boys. A hundred years to come. For boy and girl. Don’t trust faces. For several small boys. ‘Above the skiess For two sinall girls, The true heroism. For three little boys. Give us little boys.a chance; he story of the plum pudding; PN be a man; A little girl’s rights speech; Jobnny’s opinion of grand- motiers; The boustiug hen; He knows der rest; Asmiall boy’s view of corns ; Robby’s little a trank toom. Yor five gir A Colloguy. For two little girls, For several little gi Strutagem, Charade. For several c Te g her scholars. For numerous scholars, Tie world i is what we make it wo girls, ‘The old aud the new, For gentleman aud lady. GUES No. 17, 128 AND DIALOGUES. sermon ; Nobody’s child ; Nutting at grandpa Gray 8; Little boy’s vivi of how Columbus discovered America ; Jittle girl’s view; Lit- st bov’s speech on time; A little boy’s pock- 3; The miduight murder; Robby Rob’s sec- al sermon; How the baby came; A boy’a er The new sir es A mother’s Baby Lulu; Josh aracters. lings on the bumble-tee, Died yesterday; The chicken’ heir apparent; Deliver us fiom evil; Don’t want to be good; Only a drunken fellow; The two little robins ; Be slow to condemn; A nonsense tale; Little boy’a declamation; A child’s desire; Bogus; The goblin cat; Rub- a-dub; Calumny ; Little chatterbox; Where are they; A boy’s view ; The twenty frogs Going to school; A morning bath ; The gir of Dundee; A fane In the sunlight; The new laid egg; The little musician ; Idle Ben; Pottery-man; Then and now, —— DIALOGUES No. 18. “For three n rves another. He 6 ladies. For 8 boys and 1 lady. For several The little intercessor, ladies, Give ndogabad name. F itlemen, Spring-time wishes. For Lost Charlie iy merous characte A little tramp. Kor three little b boys. Hard times. For 2 gentlemen and 4 ladies. The lesson well worth jesrning. Por two malea or four gen Lor nrc Auteccdents- Fors giatlem smen and 3 ladies. and two females, DIME DIALOGUES, NO. 19, Anawful.mystery. Two females and two malea, Contentment, For five little boys, Who are the saints? For three young girls. California upele. ‘Thrée males and three females, Be kind to the poor. A little folk play. How people are insured. A “ duets fayor. Acting charade, For four ‘is aracters. sinoke fiend. For four be A kindergarten dialogue. Fora “Christmas Fes- tival. Persovated by seven characters. _ The nse of study« For three girls. (The refined ipletons, For four Indi: Remember Benson, For three males, Modern edugation. Three males and one females ae with too mu » males. The fairy’s wari For two girlse Aunt Eunice’s experiivent. | For several. Two females and one male. ns ntysterious GG. re’ll have to mortyage the farm. For one male and two females. I old fashioned duet. Phe auction, For nunerous characters uct. For two males. # cian ne Dimes Schook Series—Dialogues. a The wrong man, Three mates atid throe females ncalis, For two little girls. s present. Wor four be ot. Vor teacher and several scholars, gdreans. Vor four little folks. i by a ove. For two bova. Two males and three femal»s.| [t aud 1 iemale. For six little girls. # Sold,” Kor three boys. DIME DIALO A anceassfal donatic on party. For several, For three wales and Cind For two children, How shiv inade him propose. A duet, The house on the hil. For four feaales. Evidenes enong. For two males. Worth and wealth. For four females, Waterfall. Vor several. DIME DIALOGUES, No. 20.~ Analr diathen For five males and three fexnaleg City manners and country hearts. For three git) and one boy. The silly dispute. For two girls and teacher, ot one there! For four inale charactera, For numerous character-. P A cure tor good. The credulous w One lady and two gentle acre. For two males. GUES, No, 21. eturn. For four males. For several chi : \'Too much for Aunt Matilda, For three females, Wit against wile. Three females and one malee A sudden recovery. For three males. The double stratagem. For four females, Counting chickens before they were hatched. For four males. DIME DIALOGUES, No, 22, - : Tho Dark Cupid; or, the mistakes of a morning. Yor three ventlemeu and two ladies. er-do-well; or, @ brother’s lesson, Hs ) inales and two fa: vnales, I r the new mau Strange adventures, The king’ A pra al Mo: * Tor two girls. For two boys. ‘or four girls. For two boys. A; or, Yankee vs. For four boys. y- 3 females and‘ {incident als.’ himan; or, the outwitted aunt, Jadies aud one gentleman. DIME DIALO Rhods Hunt's remedy. For 3fe nales, 1 male. hinidt’s recommend. For two males. ry and Grumble. Wor two I ttle boys. The phantom doughnuts. For six females, Does it pay! For six males. Company manners and home impoliteness. two males, two females and two children. The glad days. For two little boys. Unfortunate Mr. Brown. For 1 inale, 6 females. The real cost. For two girls. For For Yor two tania’s banquet. For a number of girls. 3 will be boys. For two boys and one girl, uiny day; or, the school-girl philosophers, For three young ladies. God is love. For a number of scholars, The way he managed. For 2 males, 2 ferantes. PEUpnPey: Various characters, white aud ether A For two tiny girls. A For four boys, A May d or three little gir's. From the sublime tothe ridiculous, For 14 malee Ileart not face. For five boys, 7 GUES, No, 23. A bear garden. For three males, two females. bees. For four little girls. Checkmate. For numerous characters. School time. For two little girls, Death scene. 2 principal characters and adjuncts, Dross and gold. Several characters, male and fee mule, Confotind Miller. |Ignorance vs. |Pedants all. T a little aaehore For three males, two femalese settee For eleven malo or four femaless DIME DIALOGUES, No, 24. The goddess of liberty. Fornin The three grav For thiree litt The music director. For seven mu ules, A strange secret. For three An unjust man, For four m The shop girl’s victory. 1 mal The psychometiser. — 2 Maan is no word for it. Whimsical.§ A number BDlesseWare the peacem. ‘The s societies of tho delectables and les miser- ables. For two ladies and two gentlemen, What oach would have, 6 little boys & teacher. Sun-hine through the clouds, r The friend in need. Vor f The hours. For twelv In doors and out. For five little boys. Dingbats. For one male and four famales. The pound of flesh. Vor three boys. Bewaro of the peddlers, 7 mixed characters. Good words. For a number of boys, A friend. For a nuinber of littie girls, £2" The above books are sold by Newsdzalers everywhere, or will be sent, post-paid, to any, @ddroas, on receipt of price, 10 cents each. BEADLE & ADAMS, P; ‘or ME Pohibeues The six brave men. For six boys. Have you heatd the news? e queen, Two young girls. ht mistake, 4 males, 1 female, and eov~ auxiliaries. ny und busy. «T'en little fellows. The old and young. 1 gentleman, 1 little girtle That postal card, 3 ladies and 1 gentleman, Mother Goose and her household. A whole. school fancy dress dialo,ue aud travestic. a 3, No. 25. 6 use of wealth. Fora whole school. ‘or numerous characters. 3 is place. For two boys. / 1 ttle wise heads, For four little girla, ‘e regenerators. or five bovs, Crabtree’s wo: is Several characters, Integrity the basis of all success. Two males, A crooked way made straight. One gentleman and one lady. Now to ‘break in’? young hearts. Two ladles and one gentleman. ublishers, 95 Willlam 6t,N.Wo i Bime School Series—Dialogues, DIME DIALOGUES No, 26. Pasr cousins. Three ladies wo gentle « |The lesson of mercy. Two very small girls, Mowaitain dmole-hills. Six ladies and several | you preach. r ladies, lp, ' 5 A “tent that did not fat g Two males and twe Two ways ot seeing unt your ckens y are |G vo males, i | ‘Three femal } t Th How uncle Josh g mt rid of the legacy. les, r died: ‘Lwo inales. {with several transfurmations. DIME DIALOGUES No, 27. futsey O’Dowd’s campaign. For three males]The street girl’ sgood angel. For two Jadies ang and one female. little girl: Hasty inferences not always just. Numerous t uugrate ful little nigger.”? For two males, boys. u Thad the money. For three little girls. pieiontan tas Annie, For several girls. Appearances are deceitful. For severa) ladies 2 les and one femule. and one gentleman % Wor'five ladies. »ve’s protest. Tor two little girls. Teure them? Fora lady and two boys.|An enforced cure. For several. charac spendent. For numer sters. Those who preach and those who Bertoreat For Each s é ~ Fe uur | three males. va A gentle conquest. For two young girls, DIME DIALOGUES No. 28, A test that a For six young iadies and two|No room for the drone. For three little boy». | ae chair. For nue: Tous ¢ huracters. ty. Tor four boys. re ure for meusure, four girls. 10 Pakatening: le girls. Saved by a dream. For two males and twe The rebuke proper. For 3 gentlemen, 2 ladies. | fem: z Exorcising ane vil it. For six ladies. An infallible sign. For four boys. Both sides of the fence. For four males. A good use for mon For six little girls. The spirits of the w ood. For two troupes of girls.'An agreeable profession. For several characters DIME DIALOGUES No, 29, Who shall have the dictionary? Yor six typical |Simple Simon, For fonr little boys. male characters aud two feinales. [Phe red light. For four males, two females, Phe test of bravery. For four boys and teacher.|The sweetest thought. For four little girls, fortune’s wheel. For four male characters. |Tbeimhuman monster. 6 ladies, 1 gentleman, The little wsthetes. For six little girls. |Three little fools. For four small boys, The yes and no of smoke, For three lit 0 |Bey ware of the dog! For three ladies and three No refere Six gehtlemen and thre “dodgers, An amazing good boy. One male, one iioe Hunt’s hu nt. For two boys ane two girle What's visitation did. Tor several ladies. \Rags. For six males, DIME DIALOGUES No. 80, ible heroes, For five young Indi jCat and dog. For two little ones, colored”? lecture. For four mal |The wsth p ‘or 2 Judies and 3 gerélemd. ‘or f little boys, im Bri k’s lesson. For two hoys. For three little girls, {Tv er side of the storv. lor five females, luck. For two males and three} Th t that told. Yor five males Py. y. For three gentlemen ani Wty he slid vt hire him. Foy several “ char-| | rning from evil, For five boys. A fortunate mistake. For six young ladies, one The teachar’s ruse. For ten boys and thre Little girl and a boy. girls. : n alphabetical menagerie. For a whole school.|Collocuy of nations, For eleven persontors, Pie higher education. For eight boys. {Additional personations for ‘ Goddess of Libertys Nie vicissitudes of a milliner. For six females. ‘ A scenic piese in Dialogues No, 24. {3 The above books are sold by Newsdealera everywhoro, or will be sent, post-paid, to am tddrevs, o» receipt of price, 10 cents each. i BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William St., N. ¥. STANDARD DIME SPRALERS=60 to 99 Plocas in Zach Volume, DIME AMERICAN SPEAKER, No. 1, Young Amertoa, Birthday of W ashington Plea tor the Maine law, Not on the battlefield, ‘The Italian struggle, Ind peniteniee, ci rue man ho dy Fhe mystery of life, “fhe ups and downs, he truly great, DIME NATIONAL Union and its resulta, Our country’s future, ‘The statesman’s labors, True immortality, ‘Let the childless weep, Our country’s glory, Union a household, Independence bell, ‘The scholar’s dig uty, The 8 of progress, ‘A Ghiistinns chant, Stability of Christianity, ‘Tho true higherlaw, ‘Phe one great nood, {he ship and the bird, [tion, ppeal, steadfast, is treason, Thealarum, April 15th, 1861, The spirit ‘of 61, Lhe precivus heritage, Kleboyergoss on the war Age bluntly considered, En surly rising, ‘The wasp and the bee, Comic Grammar, No. 1. I'm nota single man, A. Ward’s ad Buzfaz on Pickwick, Romeo and Juliet, H1ippiness, DIME PATRIOTIC America to the world, Love of country, Right of self- preter ‘de Our cause, A Keatuekian’s aj Kentu Early retiring and ris’g,|J. Jeboom’s oration, A. Ward’s oration, A Dutch eure, frao nationality, The weather, Oar natal day, The heated term, Solferino, | Poilesepiy applied, Intelligence tho basis of| An old dailad, Vhe war, [liberty,|/Pe say wise, pound feol- onatye of Ii ht baigade,' ‘rue claanknoss, {ish, Sat dy night's enjoy ts, aA juat cause,’ | No pesce with eppres~| sion, A tale of & mouse, A thanksgiving sermon, Lhe cout of riches, , SPEAKER, No. Ohio, Oliver Haz Our do: stems of belief, The Indian chiet, The independent farmer Mrs. Grammar’s ball, The ae boy’s sy1UDy Teeumseh’s speech, Territorial expansion, Martha Hopki The bashful man’s story The matter-of-fact man, Rich and poor, canta ¢ the eclipse, ‘d Perry, Three fools, Washington, Our great inheritance, My Eulogy on Meury Ciay,| National hatreds, SPEAKER, No. noe y ae onr fg dress, \ ue 3 the Union, Last speech of Stephen As Douglas, he Trish ele nS Train’ Shristy’ Rancstt Le + me alone; ft, In Square speeches, whe Uited; ot Our country’s call, The story of nu oals tree,| Bs attle anthem, L-e-g on iny leg, The ends of peace, DIME COMIC SPEAKER, No. 4, Pop, A song of woo, A Toxan Eulogium, / Ward’s trip to "Richin’d, How to be a fire Parody The United ta ee mountebank, Pufl’s ace’t of himself, {Compound interest, Practical plirenolugy, A sermon on r the fet, Beautiful, Old dog Joc The fishe Brian O'Linn, Crockett to office-reckers Yew Year and the) King Colts m, [Union, aay ‘folke,! Who is my opponent? Bay SEC. I. Prixcrpres 0} uilts in enuucistion 1 rule’ and obser . It. Tae Arr o¥ 8h of the Passions, ness, Mirth,Raillery, Buffoonery, Inquiry, Attention Gravity, f Pride, Ow Forbidding, “AL Agreeing, Exhorti nitting, Condem: lexity, Pity, Grief, ear, Pea pendence, Veneration, ir Reinorse, n Authority, Commanding, ning, Denying, , Teaching, rguing, Dismissing, Refusing, Granting, De- t, Givi ing,Wonder, Admiration Gratitude, deans Se ea Tem hy Pcp el DIME ELOCUTIONIST, No. 6. P True Exuxcration. | SEC. II. ‘Tir 3 how to avoid then. ons, Oratory ee Words and Phrases, Precision. Length of Gerteanice, Cl Figures of Speech; th tion, the Proposition, Mela aoly,- R Courage, Boas Differenne, Approving, Ac Pardoning, udgi Bells Hope Desire, Love, Re- Hamlet's Soliloquy ; Anger, otc, As applied to Praceluione ‘8 Soliloquy on Honor; the Burial o. Lincoln; the Cail and Response; the Bayonet Cane History of a Life; Byron ; Macbeth and the Daggers Great ives tmperishable The prophecy for the y’r Unfinished Sere tlouor te the dead, The préss, | Woman’s rights, Ri : Ww barre ¢ rebellion of 1861, Disunion, 2. Murder will out,’ the best, } Earl ngy Beeds of kindness, Gates of sleep, The bugle, A Hoodish gem, Purity of the struggle, ' Old ro utiful and true, The worm of the still, Man and the Infinite, eof the Eagle, The Deluge. 3 Freadom the watchword Crisis of our nation, Duty of Christian pa- tr ‘lots, y Dan’s oration, arless plea, he onus of slavery, A foreigner’s tribute, he little Zouave, Catholic cathedral, The “ Speculators’? ark Political stump speech, Grammar, No. 3, Farewell to the bottle, The cork ley, The smnek ia school, The debating A Dutch sermon, Leeture on locomotion, Mrs.Caudleon Umbr'lla Component ELEMENTS OF A tules of Co posi tion as appliag to ia, t earness, st ne E: scordint m, the the » Coultiuation, the jot tho. Peroratio ‘A Plea for the Ox E the Bugle; the Old Things ; Look Up- ward; King William Rufus; the Eye; og Eesa onte Masik; Discoveries ‘of Gatia Cr Ve AIRS OF 4 Gooo Avamonrsia Bime School Series—-peniks ors, ROUS SPEAKER, No. 6. Asad story, Astring oi onions, United States Presid rericin voodchuek, |Vagaries of popp Umbrella, |The harp of a thousand| qt 8 son, § 78 {What t wouldn your own ¢a-)T tof the sarpints, /Yankee doodle Aladdin, MAnoni » Klebeyergoss, noe,” “ uarch to Moscow; |Ze Moskeetare, enti ht celE y y mysterious guest, [# I33. |The pump, DIME STANDARD SPEAKER, No. 7, The world we live in, |The power of an idea, |The two lives, The Bible, ‘Woman’s claims. ‘The beneficence of the|Vhe true schola: The purse and the sword Authors of our liberty, |Sufirage {sea,| Judges not infallible, |My country, } conqueror, evi \Fanat ; [erime, True moral ¢ ourage, itizen’s heritage, |HowCyrus lai of ility of successful What is war? Italy, ‘The prettiest hand, Agriciilture; | Butter, The inecha Parg “ithe 1, Ireland, (quer, | My Deborah Lee, Nature & Natare ’s God, | Little Jerry, the miller,| aH pedple ae con-) ‘I'he race, The modern good, [sun, |The nec f The pin and needi\e, Ossian’s address to the | Koy ery thoughts, ry aid auth The Padget Puritan, Independence bell—1777} The ladies’ man, | Wisbin Tinmortality of the sont, John Burns, Getty burg, | | The Blarney stone, Occupation, No sect in he ¥ The ‘idler, jThe student of Bonn, | Heroism and daring, Miss Prude’s tea-party, 'The unbeliever, i The broken houehold, | A shot at the decanter, { DIME STUMP SPEAKER, No. 8. Hon.J.M.Stubbs’ views |Good-nature a blessing, |America, [fallacy, | Temptations of cities, + from hard-shell tight of secession” aj Broken resolutions, Hans Schwackheimer on il-ende [Baptist,|Life’s sunset, | There is no death, woman’s suffrage, e value of money, | Human nature, jRue All for a nomination, | Metdo i y | Law A fruitfal discourse, Old ocean, {sea,| Be suy ight, - Brenchman’s dinnes, ,the sea, the open| Be of good cheer, e a fof Ain.|L Jnjust national acqui’n Seton fora »bed folks, iseries of Wr. [liberty)he amateur coachmany ming amaseuline|A Lay Sermon, |The cold water man, {county,]A dream, Permanency of ae utes, Astronomical, Liberty of spe yeech tr m con es c i & the U ; The moon, {zens,) John Thompson . dau’ry sper 's relation tosoc The unseen Id, | Duties of American citi-| House-cleaning, The limits to happitiess,!Blen for the Republic, |The ian, lIt is not your business. DIME JUVENILE SPEAKER, No. 9, A boy’s philosophy, |Playing ball, How the raven became| Nothing to de, (Hoe out your r |Ah, why, black. Honesty best policy, ‘Six- year- “old’s protest, [Livi e for something, A inother’s work, Heaven, The suicidal cat, aay of the hen-pecked, |The same, Ho for the fields, A valediction, Vine outside dog, [X Who ruler, ’ Poppi gore jWolf If and lamb, The ec é The same, in rhyme, fe king for a king, | x00 fet ves! Casabis unea, The fairy shoemaker, {Sick lion, 2 [anotiver, smi@dpathic soup, What was learned, [Gee niry and town mice,| Ruin, |'Nose-and eyes, Press on, d woman, 5 e |M [come The horse, if A hundred years tf Tho snake in the grass, The Lotus-plauter, 1 The madman and hij Tale of the tropics, Little th 5 Little sermons,’ [razor, Bromley’s sp A Baby i y. J |Snuffles on elec tricity, The samie, socond extract] [Repen ar Angelina’s lament, |The two cradles, The fisher’s child, A plea for ¢ |JohunyShrimps on boots|'The ocean storm, Shakspeark an scholar, Humbug per ism, |Mercy, Do thy little, do it well, A Maiden’s peal of life, Night after C ‘iotmas, \Choice of hours, Little puss, A mixture, ort legs, |Poor Rie hard’s enyings, | Baso-ball, ffever, Peee for skates, Shrimps on amusements| Who killed Tow Roper, Beper, | Precesiption fos spring Latest Chinese outrage. The d yerman, saris. from il vitelamb| dings, discourse, |De tir sitiwation, Dar’s nuflin new under} de sur y on wo A healthy Povin ik id Mrs. Grimes, A parody, Mars and cate, |AN Bill Underwood, pilot, |That vic Old Granley, Picnic de fhe pill peddler’s ora-! Our cnnc tion, Dandr Widder Green’s last Piain'lar words, 1 ful Jane DIME READINGS AND RECITATIONS, The frishman’s pano- i rama, The lightning-ro dagent v Ee Eee at four ace Rath and Naomi, os ‘ave of Corson, hit ilers, how akes, Dawson 1 ligious poem, | { would 1 were a boy again, A. pathetic story, When the cows come home, The donation party, Tommy Taft, A_ Michigander France, Not one to spare, | Mrs. Breezy’s lunch, Rock of ages, presi-}J. Cmsar Pompey dent, esa ash’s Fermony Rell call, Minie’s ticket, An Pees to ‘the The newsboy, ‘fawily, Pat’s correspondence, The dim old forest, Rasher at home, ‘The Sergeant’s story, David and Goliah, Reavis at fourseore, 7m. Ww hy” should the spirit of mortal be proud? The coming mustache, The engineer's story, A candidate for in pink , brakeman church, Passun Mooah’s sur- mount, Arguing the question Jim Woite and the cats, at imstanees ob de} / |My neighbor’ 8 eee ons Josh BES | au west. No, 24. sath of th’ owd squire Mein tog Shneid, beron, of womanhood, e judgment day, The burst bubble, Curfew must not-ring »-night, The swell, The water mill, Sam’s letter, Footsteps of ‘the dead, Charity, An essay on cheek. {a The above books are sold by Newsdealers everywhere, or will be sent, post-paid, to any address, on receipt of price, 10 cents each, _ ' BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 W illiam St., N. ¥. > STANDARD BOOKS OF GAMES AND W PEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORE, HANDBOOK of SUMMER ATHLETIC SPORTS. ContEeNtTs:—Pedestrianism; Walkers vs. Runners; Scientific Walking (8 cuts); Scientific Running (2 cuts); Dress for Pedestrians; Training for a Match; Laying out a_‘irack (1 cut); Conducting a Match; Records of Pedestrianism; Jumping and Pole-leaping (1 cut); Bicycling; Rules for Athletic Meetings: Hare and Hounds (1 cut); Archery (1 cut). Fully illustrated. By Capt. Fred. Whittaker. HAND-BOOK OF CROQUET. A Complete Guide to the Principles and Practice of the Game. This popular astime has, during the few years ofits existence, rapidly outgrown the first vague and imperfect rules and regulations of its inventor; aud, av almost every house at which it is played adopts a different code of laws, it becomes a difficult, matter for a stranger to assimilate his play to that of other people. It is, therefore, highly desirable that one uniform system should be generally adopted, and hence the ob- ject of this work is to establish a recognized method of playing the game, DIME BOOK OF 100 GAMES. Out-door and in-door SUMMER GAMES for Tourists and Families in the Coun- try, Picnics, etc., comprising 100 Games, Forleits and Conundrnms for Childhood and Youth, Single and Married, Grave and Gay. A Pocket Hand-book for the Summer Season. CRICKET AND FOOT-BALL. A desirable Cricketer’s Companion, containing complete instructions in the ele- ments of Bowling, Batting and Fielding ; also the Revised Laws of the Game ; Re- marks on the Duties of Umpires; the Mary-le Bone Cricket Club Rules and Regu- lations; Bets, etc. By Henry Chadwick. HAND-BOOK OF PEDESTRIANISM. Giving the Rules for Training and Practice in Walking, Running, Leaping, Vaulting, etc. Edited by Henry Chadwick. YACHTING AND ROWING. ‘his volume will be found very complete as a guide to the conduct of watercraft, and full of interesting information alike to the amateur and the novice. The chap- ter referring to the great rowing-match of the Oxford and Cambridge clubs on the Thames, will he found particularly interesting. RIDING AND DRIVING. A sure eos to correct Horsemanship, with complete directions for the road anc field; and @ specific section of directions and information for female equestrians. Drawn largely from “ Stonehenge’s”’ fine manual, this volume will be found all that can be desired by those seeking to know all about the horse, and his manage- ment in harness and under the saddle. GUIDE TO SWIMMING. Comprising Advisory Instructions; Rules upon Entering the Water; Generr Directions for Swimming ; Diving: How to Come to the Surface ; Swimming the Back; How to Swim in times of Danger; Surf-bathing—How to Manage Waves, the Tides, etc. ; a Chapter for the Ladies; a Specimen Female Swir — school; How to Manage Cases of Drowning; Dr. Franklin’s Code for Swir cic. Mlustrated. By Capt. Philip Peterson. é ea Poh 3 Se Sate enablers or sent, post-paid, to any address, 0 ? . BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, 98 WILLIAY — Sea LDL Ay SPEAKERS AND DIALOGUES, THE MOST ATTRACTIVE SERIES, Most Available, Adaptive and Taking Collections —or— Declamations, Farces, Recitations, Notable Passages, Dialogues, Minor Dramas, Speeches, Extempore Efforts, Colloquies, Acting Charades, Orations, Addresses, Burlesques, Dress Pieces, IN ALL THE FIELDS OF Wit, Humor, Burlesque, Satire, Eloquence aud Argument, FOR SCHOOL EXHIBITIONS AND HOME ENTERTAINMENTS. THE DIME SPEAKERS. 1—Dime AMERICAN SPEAKER, 13—Dime ScHoon SPEAKER. 2—DimE NATIONAL SPEAKER. i4—Dine Lupicrous SPEAKER. 3—Dime ParrIoric SPEAKER, 15—Caru PRETzEL's KoMIKAL SPEAKER, 4—Dime Comic SPEAKER, 16—Dimx Yourr’s SPEAKER. 5—Dime ELocorionist. 17-—Dime ELOQueNT SPEAKER. 6—Dime Humongous SPEAKER, 18—Dimm Hatt ConumprA SPEAKER, 7—DImE STANDARD SPEAKER, 19—Dime Serro-Comic SPEAKER. 8—DimE Stump SPEAKER, 20—Dime SELECT SPEAKER, 9—Dime JUVENILE SPEAKER, 21—Dime Funny Speaker. 10—DimE SPREAD-EAGLE SPEAKER, 22—Dime JoLiy SPEAKER. 11—Dime Desarer & CHarrnmMan’s GuipE 23—DIME DIALECT SPEAKER, 12—Dime Exureirion SPEAKER, 24--Dime READINGS AND REcYTATIONS, Each Speaker, 100 pages 12mo., containing from 50 to 75 pieces. THE DIME DIALOGUES Are filled with original and specially prepared contributions from favorite and popular caterers for the Amateur and School Stage—giving more taking and effective dialogues, burlesques, social comedies, domestic farces, exquisite dress and exhibition uramas than any collection ever offered at any price. Dime Diatosves NumBer ONE. Dime Dranogues NumBer Srxrren. Dime DiaLoaues Number Two. Dime DiALoGues NUMBER SEVENTEEN, Lit- 4 Dime DraALocues Number THREE, tle Folks: Dime Diatocurs NumBer Four. Dime DiaALoaurs NemBer EIGHTEEN. Dime DraLocuns Numper Fives. Dime DraLogues NumBer NINETEEN, Dine DraLoagves NumBer Srx. Dime DiaLrocures NumBer TWEN'y, Die Dratoaves NuMBER SEVEN. Dime DiaLocuss NuMBER TWENTY-ONE, Dime Dratogues NumpBer Eien, Dimer DiaLogues NumBer TWENTY-rwo. Dime DiALocurs Number Ning. Dre DiaLogurs NuMBER TWENTY-THREE Dimz Dratogues Numper Tun, Dimm DiaLoaues NumBer Twenty-Four. Dime DraLoaues NuMBER ELEVEN. Die DiALoaues NuMBER TWENTY-FIVE. Dive DraLoaues Numper TWwELve, Dimn DraLogurs NuMBER TWENTY-SIX. Diz Dratoaues Nomppr Turrreen. | Dias Dratocurs NuMBER TWENTY-SEVEN Dime Dravocves Numper Fourrren. | Dive Diatoaues Numper Twenty-kicHT Dime Diatocves Numper Firreen, | Die DraLocurs Numper TWENTY-NINE. Dive DraLoguns Numper THrery. Each volume, 100 pages 12mo., containing from 15 to 25 pieces. {@* For sale by all newsdealers; or sent, post-paid, to any address, on receipt of price—TEN CENTS EACH, BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William 8t., New York.