ahantt AND. ADAMS, 98 Sc pe STREET, & x. | _ The American Nowa Coy, 896 4 Chamber, 3.¥ 3s3ular Mime Hand-Books. BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK. Bach volume 100 12mo pages, sent post-paid on receipt of price—ten cents each. YOUNG PEOPLE’S SERIES. 1—DIME' GENTS’ LETTER-WRITER—Embracing Forms, Models, Suggestions and Rules for the use of all classes, on all occasions. 2—DIME BOOK OF ETIQUETTE—For I... ‘es and Gentlemen: being a Guide t¢ True Geutility and Good-Breeding, anc _—_ ‘rectory to the Usages of society. 2-DIME BOOK OF VERSES—Comprising Verses for Valentines, Mottoes, Coup lets, St. Valentine Verses, Bridal and Marriage Verses, Verses of Love, etc. 4—DIME BOOK OF DREAMS—Tiheir Romance and Mystery; with a complet: . interpreting Dictionary. 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Embracing Skating, (on the ice and rollers,) Rink-Ball, Curling, Ice-Boating and Football. 9—BOOK OF 100 GAMES—Out-door and In-door SUMMER GAMES, for Tour _ gnd Families in the Country, Picnics, etc., comprising 100 Games, Forfeits, é 10—DIME CHESS INSTRUCTOR—A complete hand-book of instruction, giv the entertaining mysteries of this most interesting and fascinating of gar 11—DIME BOOK OF CROQUET—A complete guide to the game, with the la| rules, diagrams, Croquet Dictionary, Parlor Croquet, ete. CRICKET AND FOOT-BALL—A desirable Companion, containing comp! instructions in the elements of Bowling, Batting and Fielding; a the vised Laws of the Game: Remarks on the Duties of Umpires; the Mary-le-B Cricket Club Rules and Regulations; Bets, etc. HAND-BOOK OF PEDESTRIANISM—Giving the Rules for Training and‘P tice in Walking, Running, Leaping, Vaulting, etc. YACHTING AND ROWING—This volume will be found very complete # guide tothe conduct of watercraft, and full of interesting information alik the amateur and the novice. RIDING AND DRIVING—A sure guide to correct Horsemanship, with ¢ ate. dipaction pf he road and field; and a specific section of directions 4 1 i It ‘DVD ule equestrians, i BH ‘ sare sold by Newsdealers everywhere, or will be { on receipt of price, 10 cents each. BEADLE & AD# 1 9 reet, New York, THE DIME DIALOGUES NO. af ORIGINAL AND SPECIALLY PREPARED DIALOGUES, COLLOQUIES, FARCES, EXHIBITION PIECES, : ~ PARLOR DRAMAS AND SCHOOL SCENES. ALL ARRANGED 1 FOR EASY PRODUCTION ON ANY STAGE OR PLATFORM. , NEW YORK: : BEADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS, — No.\98 WILLIAM STREET. e CON TEMAS PAGE. Parsty O’Down’s Camparan; or, the Boy Runaway’s Dash for Liber- ty. For three males and one female. By Philip E. Scudder. ... 9 Hasty Inrerences Nor Atways A Lesson Worth Acting. Yor numerous boys. By Luc Disconventrep Annis. A Poor ¢ Seen §=By Cousin Alice .......265 .es. shee et 1 A Dovetn Sorprise. A Domestic History with a Dramatic Accom- paniment. For four males and one female. By Frank S Finn.. 19 Waar Was Iv? A Household Mystery. For five ladies. By Miss Nellie Thorn—‘‘ The New England Schoolmarm.”’............... 24 War Witt Corr Tuem? A Sad C of Reform. For a ae and two boys. By Grace Grafton, cf the ‘‘ Home School.”’ 23 IyperenpenT. An Acting Charade. For Parlor, Exhibition, ¢ or aha Amateur Stage. Three scenes.. For numerous characters. By i is a . aw Moab <2 racts <% ee Beare a 22 Hacn Stason THe Besr. Wishes in Rhyn me, "For four boys. By I 2a 2ipSoig- sa wrsc'y 0's p's a Dew anogheheg wa Te cleat ee nape meee 42 TRIED AND FYounp Wantinc. A New Way to Make Friends. For 1 Sememnmiars, By Dr. Louis Legrand ................6. csseee ee 44 Tue Srreer Grru’s Goop AncrL. A Ha ‘ppy Contretemps. For two ladies and tio little girls. By Mrs. @. D. ProctoOm ~..... 49 A Bovy’s Prior. ANNIE, Oh dear! I just wish I was Lu Brown. She don’t have to do everything like I do; she has as much money as ever she wants, and such an elegant house, and only has to ask for a thing to get it, while I only have one best dress, and have to wear that two winters. Then she goes to Madyme’s school with all the nice girls, while I go to te a rere as peg DISCONTENTED ANNIE. Has. Oh! just arrived, and am looking for a place to stay for awhile. Have you a spare bed? Mas. I haven’t got such a thing in my little house, but I can rig ye up one somehow, and will feel honored to have you under my poor roof. So will wife, and my gal, Mary, dear thing; why, she’ll be ever so glad to have you come there, for, you see, we are so very poor that Mary has got to go out to service next week, and then you can have _ her room in welcome. Has. Out to service? How old is she? When I left — : here she was only a child, but I was very fond of her—very — fond, indeed, for she was not only pretty, but bright in mind and good in heart. Mas. That she is yet, sir; but, you see, she is now a girl of seventeen, and has l’arnt so many things in her own way | that she is very handy; so, to help me along just now—for | I’m some in debt and in considerable trouble about my wife, | who has broken health, and doctor’s bills are awful fora j poor man; so Mary, she’s going over to the parsonage to — work for six dollars a month, and that will help us along some. Ah, she is a blessed dear child, Mr. Hastings, and she always did think a heap of you, for it was you who taught her so well and gave her all your books when you — went away, and she has read every one of them over and | . over again, and will be happy enough to have you hereagain. | So come along, and share with us what we have to give, in — welcome. Has. Ah, Mason, you’ve a true heart. Ill accept your hospitality on one condition. Mas. Have your own way, sir; you’re a gentleman, and — knows what is best. What is the condition you speak of? — TRIED AND FOUND WANTING. 47 _ Has. That Mary shall not go to the parsonage to work ber | and that you'll let me build a nice addition on your house HY Ff and a real shoe store for you on the next lot, od G _ Mas. Why, man, how ye talk! Who ever heard of a schoolmaster who could have things for the willing? I hope your head is all right, sir. : (Enter Rev. 8. and Oxp §. in rear.) Has. Head and heart and body all sound, my good Ma- son. ‘You see, I’ve grown rich enough, in my absence, to _ buy out this whole town, and have come back here to help some of my old friends—you, for instance; so 1 want my _ own way in this matter; but I want you to keep the secret to yourself that I may enjoy the joke of seeing the parson and Old Smilax and others turn the cold shoulder to the poor deaf schoolmaster. Mas. Oh, that will be a good joke, (Zaughs.) And you are not deaf, either? Has. Nota bit. I was cured of that, some time ago, and by good fortune I induced an uncle of mine to start a silk mill, and it has so prospered that we are now both rich men. Iam tired out with too close attention to business, so came here for rest and to renew old associations. You are the only man who has given me a warm welcome, and you I shall stay with, if you’ll let me sleep in the loft until the addition and the store are built, which I want done at once, for I shall order a dozen men from the city to do the work as quickly as possible. Mas. But Old Smilax has a mortgage on my place, Has. Pay the old curmudgeon off, at once. Mas. And the parson—he has had indenture papers drawn up for me and Mary to sign—she agreeing to stay with him, for six dollars a month, until she is twenty- one. s Has. Don’t sign them, Tell the reverend humbug to go study the Scriptures for four years and try and make an honest man of himself. isa Mas. All right, sir. It shall-be as you say; and now let me go and tell the news to wife. Has, But, not to Mary. I want to seem to her the ~ same ag I used to be, ‘ ; Mas. You'll have your own way there, too, I guess, for — Lys ad — 3.)4 Whe oe eo eee 48 THE DIM DIALOGUES. : the dear child has treasured up your memory as the sweet: | est event of her life. (Hzit.) Has. But a sweeter event it may become for us both, I feel sure. (Re-enter, from rear, OLp S. and Rey. 8.) Well, here come the two men overflowing with charity. ss Outp 8. I say, Mr. Hastings, I came back to ax ye to come to my house to stay as long as ye please. T’ll give ye my best rcom, an’ me an’ my wife an’ Sara Ann will do ~ everything we can to make it pleasant fer ye. Sara Ann | she'll be delighted to ’tend on ye. Rey. 8. And I returned to explain to you, my dear old 4 fellow-worker in the moral field, that my wife can accom- modate you with her best room off the parlor, and her sis- ter, the lovely young Miss Petersham, will be on ina few days, at our express invitation, to be company for you; so I trust you'll honor ws with your presence. | Has. Ah, I see! By your overlooking the fact that I | was a very deaf man to you, a short time ago, I infer that | you both overheard the conversation I had with Mason, Oup 8. Why, what’s the odds? You was good enough allers to be as much respected as the minister, here, and _ deaf or not it’s not a thing to take notice of. ‘ Rev. 8. Certainly, what’s the odds? I rejoice greatly that your hearing is restored—greatly sir, I assure you. A good providence must have— Has. There—there, you Reverend Cream Cheese! I read you through and through. Just consider that-you have been tried and found wanting; and you the same, Smilax. I of course heard every word you’said when you called me a sponge, and said you were not in the pauper business, s0 I'll consider myself as not worthy your skinflint consider- ation. Good-day to you both; and may you learn from this _ experience that one honest soul such as the poor old cobbler has is worth more, in Heaven’s measure, than ted thousand such sordid creatures as oe and the parson, there ; (Eeit.) Otp 8. Struck hard—ain’t we, parson? ll sell out cheap. (Ezit.) Rev. 8. Oh, hypocrites and Pharisees! what a meal thing human nature is when it 7s mean, I shall “be asham to go to bed with myself, after this. (Bxit.) THE STREET GIRL’S GOOD ANGEL. THE STREET GIRL’S GOOD ANGEL. FOR TWO GIRLS AND TWO LADIES. | F (Enter Netrm, a litile flower girl, with flowers in basket and hand.) _ Nertie. Oh dear, how tired lam! Tramping along the | crowded walks for ever so long and no one to buy my pretty } flowers. If I don’t sell any what will Ido? Old Majus will | taunt me with being idle, and Mrs. Majus will scold me | dreadfully for being a good for nothing. And I’ve tried, oh, 80 hard! (Cries.) | (Enter Avion, a richly dressed girl, followed by her Gover: NESS.) _ Anrce. Why, bless me, what’s the matter, little girl? (Approaches Nurtir.) Crying? N. Oh, miss, I can’t sell my flowers, and I dare not go / | home, for old Majus will scold me, and Mrs. Majus will send - me to bed without anything to eat. r A. There, don’t cry; Pll buy the flowers. (Looks at them.) | Oh, they are so beautiful! What shall I pay you for them? . N. Ten cents a bunch and ten bunches in all, miss. But, y | please don’t take them all just because you pity me. Tm | used to scoldings, and will be let off easy, perhaps, if you _ will buy half of the bunches. A. You dear little persecuted thing! ll take them all and kiss you in the bargain. (Kisses Nerrin, who cries again.) Why, don’t you want to be kissed? ; N. Oh yes! I’ve never been kissed since mother died— a year ago. ; A. Never been kissed by anybody, and you so sweet- _ faced? Here, governess, give her a dollar, and take all the _ flowers, and you kiss her, too. _ Govrerness. No, Miss Alice; she’s a street girl, and you _ ought not to be so familiar with such; your mother will be _ Very angry with me for permitting it. Comeaway! (TZukes _ Atice’s hand to lead her away.) ‘ __ A. How can you be so cruel? N. I’m not a street girl, and I -won’t ‘aks money from you, so now! (Cries again.) 50 THE DIME DIALOGUES. A. Go away, governess! Take your hands off, I say, or Vil certainly have you discharged. Tl take the little girl home with me and Jet mamma see for herself how cruel you have been. Will you go with me, little—what is your name? N. lam Nettie, but Mrs. Majus calls me Net. I dare not go home with you, miss, for indeed, indeed, I must sell my flowers. (Starts to go.) A. Oh, you must. If you won’t take the money from governess, my mamma will pay you and then you'll know where to come every day, and I'll be so glad to see you. 7 G. Miss Alice, I must insist that you leave the street child here. Your mother will be shocked to know that you have been so familiar with one so beneath you. N. Oh, you hateful, hateful thing! I am beneath no one if I am poor, and you ought to be the last person to talk s0; being poor yourself and living on your wages you ought to feel pity for the unfortunate and helpless. I hate to feel — wicked, but I wish you could be made to feel somebody’s contempt. Good-by, sweet Alice! Icould lovesuch as you, | oh so much! but I cannot hope to ever have such a home as | you, and you being rich and I being poor makes love be- tween us impossible. 4 A. .Qh, I am so sorry for what governess has said. Please forget it. (Puts arm around Nertix. ) I will love you if you will only let me, and I wish my mamma would take you and make you my own sister. : G. (Taking hold of Autce.) You must come home, Miss Alice, and leave this strange girl to go her way. A. (Struggling to free herself.) I shall not go home with: out her if she will only come with me. G. Then I shall call an officer and have this child arrest ed as a vagrant who is annoying people on the street. j N. Ia vagrant? Oh, youdare not dothat! You mean, .. hateful thing, how dare you— ~ (Enter Mrs. Ktne.) . Mrs. Kine, Why, what is this? G. Dear madame, Alice has insisted upon taking this street child home with her, and she will not obey me. g A. (Going to Mrs. Kiva.) Mamma, dear, this poor little girl was crying because she could not sell her flowers and 1 1 THE STREET GIRL’S GOOD ANGEL. 61 Pitied her so, See, is she not sweet? Dear mamma, let her Come home with us! - Mrs. K. Come here, child. (Nerrie approaches, bash- fully.) You have no home? - N. Oh, yes; I live with Mr. Majus, the florist, and sell his flowers on the street; but he is not my papa. Mrs. K. Who is your papa? - N. Oh, he went away so long ago and never came back, ‘| and mamma, she waited and waited, and then she died and | left me to Mrs. Majus, who is very hard to me—that is all about me. Won't you please buy some of these flowers? Mrs. K. But, child, you have not answered my question. What was your own papa’s name? _ N. Alexander Havens, and my mamma’s name was Addie Wilson Havens, ma’m. Mrs. K. (Catching Nerrin by arm and gazing anxiously in her face.) Oh, is it possible? his Alexander’s child? (Kneels and clasps Nevis in her arms.) At last! At last! A. What is it, mamma, dear? May she come home With us? | Mrs. K. Come home with us? (Rising.) Yes, and be | With us always, for she is my°own brother’s child and your Cousin. I have looked for her poor mamma for years, but ever could find her. Your uncle Alexander died in South America, five years ago, and your father recovered a great } deal of money that he left, which is now all this dear child’s Your name, dear, is Anganette—named after me. (Clasping Nevis in her arms.) Oh, I knew you were B N. And I knew I could love you the moment you spoke. And you are really my cousin, and you (giving her hand to ‘Mrs, Kine) are really my aunt? I am so happy, only— nly — Mrs K. Only what? N. I did not know papa was dead. ; _ Mus. K. No, child, I could not find your dear, long suf- fering mamma. She did not know I was in this great city, ‘Rear her, or she would have come: to me; but now your tome shall be our home, and I'll be a mother to you, and ‘ou and Alice shall be sisters in all things. 52 THE DIME DIALOGUES. Gov. (Kneeling to Nerriz.) I do most humbly ask your pardon for my rudeness, N. No time for anger now; I’m too happy to be willing to give anybody pain. Only, I hope you never—never will be harsh and unkind again to a poor street girl. Gov. I never—never will. Mrs. K. Now for home and a happy reunion. . (Heeunt, Nettie and Auice, locked arm in arm, going first, s NEtTTIM still carrying her flower basket. A BOY’S PLOT. Characters :—Mrs, Suirn, a widow ; Sapmm Surtnu, her daugh ter; Frep. Surrn, her son, age 14 years; Mrs. Brown, a thrifty housewife ; Tun TABLE CoMMITTER, seven ladies ; CHARLES SINCLARE, a young minister ; AN ELDERLY M1n- IsteR, for the closing tableau. Scrne I. -aeee Smurn’s itchen. Mrs, 8. in the door calling FRED. Mrs. Smrrn. Fred! Fred. Smith / Frep. Smita. Here I am; what’s the rumpus? Mrs. 8. Where have you been, you good-for-nothing boy? I’ve called you till Iam hoarse. I want you to go right straight up to the barn, and look for that old speckled hen’s nest. The pesky critter has gone and stole her nest _ag’in. It makes me mad; if a human should begin to act as abies as dumb creeters do they would have the law put on ’em. But, you can’t do nothin’ with a hen, but jest _ swear it out. * 8. Why, mother! what would the new preacher say to hear you talk about swearin’? Mrs. 8S. Preacher! Humph! they are all a set of hypo- crites! Much J care what fe thinks! [ve noticed him smilin’ at Sarah Jane, several times; but I'll put a stop te it; see if I don’t! F. 8. Well, mother; ve been down to the post-office, Here i a letter; I should say it is from aunt Jerusha. (Gives her_the letter and exit.) A BOY’S PLOT. aes 53 Mrs. 8. I never knew her to send a white envelope be- fore. Maybe Betsy’s feller has come back and they are a-goin’ to have a weddin’? (Opens the letter and looks at the name.) Tribulation! Charles Sinelare ; jest what might be expected. I suppose he has writ to ask me to let him court Sarah Jane. Tl give him his walkin’ papers; and a piece of my mind into the barg’in. (Stops and wipes her spectacles ; looking puzzled.) Why, laws-a-me! It is me he was a-smilin’ at; and me he is a perposing to! Wal! of all things! I never heard any thing so singular, in my life. (Zeads.) “ Mayviiug, April 1st. “ Dearest SARAH:— “You will no doubt be surprised at the avowal I am about to make, having known you so short a time; but I love you; and feel that, of all the fair sex, you alone can make me happy. My parishoners want me to marry. They are going to give me a surprise donation to-morrow evening; I possessed myself of the secret, and desire to have the ‘ sur- prise’ on the other hand, by turning it into a wedding- party. Wili you become my wife, to-morrow evening—the ceremony to take place just before supper? If you accept, don’t answer this, or my secret may get out, but wait for me, and I will drive over foryou. I ask this favor to make the surprise complete. ’ “Yours with sincere affection, ‘‘CHARLES SINCLAR.” Wal! I never! Who’d’a’ thunk it? He loves me better’n all the fair sect! Vl go right up to aunt Jerusha’s, to- morrow, and borrow that white satin gown that Betsy was a expectin’ to be marri’d in. /Jf I start early in the mornin’ I can git back in plenty of time. -I can’t help wonderin’ at his selectin’ me, to be his young and blushing bride. Ive alers been so down on preachers us a community. Wal! things do work around curious sometimes, that’s a fact! (Enter Save.) ; Sapre Sarva. Ah, a letter? Who is it from, mother? Mrs. S. None of your business ‘who it’s from, Miss In-_ quisitiveness; but, if you must know, it’s from your aunt Jerusha, And I am goin’ up there to-morrow. I’m goin’ ¢- 84 THE DIME DIALOGUES. over to Miss Brown’s now, to borrow her umbrella. I shall need it, and if I don’t git my claim in first some one else will git ahead of me. And Sarah Jane, I want you, while I’m gone, to slick up this house. I presume, though, you will spend all your time primpin’ up. The amount of time it takes you to comb your hair, beats the Dutch. I’m more and more convinced that I never ought to have let you go off to that female cemct’ry; you spent a pile of money, and, now that you have come home, you flirt around in starched caliker and pink ribbons for every day, and want a pianner. You hain’t F said nothin’ about it, but I can see it makes you mad that I | don’t call you ‘“‘ Sadie,” instead of Sarah Jane, which your was named, after me, and it’s writ down in the Bible. Wal! when you git a pianner to toot on, it will be in your own house, not mine. (Hnter Frep, whistling.) Stop that whist- ling, you young imp, or I’ll box your ears again! DPvea good mind to send you over after that umbrelle. F. 8. All right, mother; if you would quit scolding, I'd 4 do that or anything else to oblige. Id like to know what’s e broke loose, this morning, that you should scold Sadie. I’m - sure she is as sweet us a May morning, and, for my part, I'm mighty glad she is home again. Mrs. 8. Shut up or Tl wallop ye! I'll learn you to sass your mother. I’d like to know if you found that hen’s Be . nest, before you talk so smart. I think it’s a mean pass E things have come to, if [ve got to galivant all over the ; country after an-umbrelle, just because my husband is dead 3 and I am a widder. F. 8. ‘I never had a piece of bread, particularly large and wide, but what it fell upon the floor, and always on the buttered side.” I say, mother, why don’t you get married again? : : Mrs. 8. Married again, indeed! I guess you would have to step arround to a different tune to what you do now, if I ‘did. It seems sometimes that I shall have to provide my- Fl self with a second pardner before I'll ever git you young Me uns brought up in the way you ort to go. (Hit F'REp.) S. 8. Mother, some people advertise for a husband, why don’t you? Mrs. §. There, child, you have said enough, Jest hall else hile you me ore off Ww Vt yn l! n . A BoY’s PLOT. BS what I might have expected though, from sendin’ you off to be finished at a ‘‘ Female Cemet'ry.” Now, I want you to destinctly understand that I won’t have no such talkin’, in my house. The Lord knows we are all ov us bad enough by nature, but for my part I am goin’ to turn over a new leaf. S. 8. Oh mother! you have always spoken of such things as hypocrisy; it can’t be that you are thinking of uniting with a church? Mrs. 8. Wal, no; not exactly; but if you must know, it is next door neighbor to it. 8. 8. What can you mean? Mrs. 8. I should think I'd made my meanin’ plain enough. I’m a-goin’ to unite to a minister. 8. 8. Impossible! Mrs. 8. I don’t see why it’s ¢mpossible. You and Fred are old enough to take keer of yourselves, and I calkerlate it is about time for me to take things easy. I should be right in my glory to be a minister’s wife, with nothing to do but ride arround the circus, making pasture calls, with plenty of time to study up what I should say so folks wouldent know I'd alers been brought up in the kentry and never had no schoolin’, In some communities the minister’s wife has to play the moosic in church. Dear me, I’m afeard I couldent dew that, nohow, withont takin’ a power of amusements, as Sarah Jane calls’em. I don’t know but what I shall be obliged to git a norgan and have you give me lessons onto it, Sarah Jane. 8. S. Why, mother! When were the arrangements made, and who is to be the lucky minister? Mrs. 8. I don’t keer to be too communicative; the ar- rangements hain’t all made yet, and, besides, you never tell me none of your affairs, so Pll pay you back in your own coin, now that I’ve got a secret. But I’ve got to hurry off after that umbrelle, I didn’t make no spread over bein’ married the first time, and I’m bound to make up for lost time now. I’m goin’ up to your aunt Jerusha’s to-morrow to see if she won’t lend me that white satin dress that Betsy was a-expectin’ to be married in; but her feller backed down. because he found out her teeth was false. If I had a young * 56 THE DIME DIALOGUES. ’un that had a spark of love for me I wouldn’t have to go traipsing after that unbrelle myse!f—they would be willing to go for me and save me all the steps they could. (Enter FRED.) F. 8. Tl go, mother. Mrs. §. You have been listenin’, have ye, ye leetle wl- lain? Jist wait till you gita minister—I mean— F. 8. Turn it around, mother;—till a minister gets you, Mus. 8. I mean, jest wait till I git a hold of ye; Vl: learn you to listen at keyholes; and, as for sendin’ you after anything, ’d as soon send the cat, or Sarah Jane, here. You would forget what ye went after, and just as quick bring mé back a shovel as an umbrelle. Well, Sarah Jane, I sha’n’t be gone.long, but you needn’t wait dinner, for, jest as like as not, I sha’n’t be back. (Zxit.) 8S. M. What does she mean? Ifshe hadn’t always been so much opposed to ministers, I should have told her that Charlie Sinclare has asked me to become his wife, to-morrow evening. J have not the courage to tell her, for I know she will never give her consent, and I dare not brave her wrath by marrying without it; but oh! I love him, and I cannot give himup! What shall I do? (Weeps,) F. 8. Don’t get excited, sis; I think I can manage her. J am afraid I have got myself into a bigger fuss than I bar- gained for; but, all I can do now is to keep cool and let her flicker. I didn’t think she would swallow a hook so easy. 8. 8S. (Springing up.) Fred Smith, what on earth are you talking about? AmTI going crazy, or have the rest of the family taken entire leave of their senses? F. 8. Yl tell you what’s in the wind, if you will prom- ise to lie low and keep mum, 8. 8. Don’t use slang, Fred; of course I promise. F. $$. You know that to-day is the first of April, don’t you? Well, mother boxed my ears this morning, and I vowed I’d be even with her. While I was thinking what trick would annoy her most, I found one of your Jetters on the stairs, and read it. You needn’t lock so mad, Sadie; you had better be thanking your stars that I found it instead of mother. (Sadie cries.) There, don’t ery, Sadic! You -have had a hard tinie of it since you came home from school. / go ing A BOY’S PLOT. ; 57 I won’t expose you; I think the pious Charlie a brick, and I’m glad he has the good sense to want the sweetest girl in these diggin’s for awife. I say, I read that letter and sat down and wrote mother a copy of it, only, instead of come early, I requested her to watt till the preacher drove over after her. reckon she will wait awhile, don’t you? And in place of answer immediately, I wrote, please don’t answer. I didn’t care to have mother write him a love letter, even for a joke—there is such a thing as carrying it too far, 8. S.. Oh, Fred! what shall we do? F. 8. Do? Why, things couldn’t be in better working order. All you have to do is just do nothing. Let mother go on with her wedding preparations; she will go up to aunt Jerusha’s to-morrow, and I’ll help you get your things ready while she’s gone. She will start us off to the dona- tion early, so that she can have a chance to fix, and you will be married before she gets there, especially if she waits for the preacher to drive over. Now, don’t you tell Charlie, or he will let it ont to mother and upset the whole thing. 8.8. Fred, you are a wicked, dreadful boy, and I shall tell Charlie everything. F.S8. (Snappishly.) Yes, that’s jest like a girl, They must tell their feller everything. Well, if you do, in this case, you will get yourself into a bigger row than you will know what to do with. And I sha’n’t stay and face the ‘‘music,” either. No, thanks! I should prefer a cooler cli- mate. Iam about tired of mother’s everlasting scold, any- how, and I’Jl run away to sea if you shoot off your mouth about this. And you know, if you have got common sense, that when mother gets wind of the trick she won’t let you anarry him. (SaprE begins to ery.) y ' $8. Oh, Fred, don’t talk so! If you will promise not to do anything too dreadful, I won’t tell. F. S. Sadie, you are a duck! You let me manage, and you will see the biggest “lark” for many a day. Now, mind—all you are to do is to do nothing, and as little of ‘that as possible. (Curtain.) | | | 58 THE DIME DIALOGUES. Scene II.—Mrs. Brown's sitting-room. Mrs. Brown fuss: ing with a pan of cucumber pickles. Enter Mrs. Sure. Mrs. 8. Good-mornin’, Mrs. Brown! I conldn’t wait ta knock. How be ye, anyhow? and why on earth hain’t you been over? Ye needn’t git up; I can’t take off my things, thank ye. Mrs. Brown. Why, Mrs. Smith! What in the world started you out? Lay off your things, do! I’ve been so busy this forenoon, that I hain’t got the floor swept yet. I’m ashamed of myself, I do look so this mornin’. Why didn’t ye send me over word that ye was a-comin’? I'd at least of combed my hair. -I’ve been fixin’ some pickles for the sur- prise donation, to-morrow night; and I don’t suppose any one else will think to fetch any. Couldn’t you bring along some of your nice catchup, Mrs. Smith? Oh! I forgot, I s’pose you won’t go; you are always so down on preachers. Mrs. 8. I expect, if nothin’ intervenes, to attend this one. Mrs. B. I think it will be jest elegant; I don’t think he suspects a breath of what is in store for him. Mus. 8. Yes, Mrs. Brown, I hev alers been opposed to preachers as a community, you understand; but I’ve become convinced that I was all wrong, and I’ve concluded to try and make up for what I ort to hev done long ago; and didn’t. Yes, Mrs. Brown, [ll be there, if, as I said before, nothiu’ intervenes. Mrs. B.. Well, then, we want you on the table com- mittee. Mrs. 8. Oh, I couldn’t, really! I sha’n’t be there till late, anyhow. I am a-goin’ away to-morrow, and I probably - won't be there till just before supper. Oh, I feel a shrinkin’ when I think of the orful risk a body runs. Somethin’ seems to whisper to me in ghostly accents—‘‘ Beware !” Mrs. B. You don’t say so! Dretful suz, it must be despepise. Mrs. 8. It’s all a lottery, as it were; some draws a prize and some don’t git nothin’ but a blank, but it seems to me that Charles Sinclare is a prize—don’t you think so, Mrs. : Brown? A BOY'S PLOT. 68 Mrs. B. Indeed I do! We haiu’t never had a preacher that took so well before. Mrs. 8. I hain’t so well acquainted with him as I ort to be, neither; you don’t know any thing ag’in’ him, I suppose? Mrs. B. No, I don’t; they do say he is somewhat frivo- lous, and seems to admire to bask in the company of ladies, rather too much to suit some ; but, he can’t be blamed, as I _ know of; we might all be old maids and widders—there, Mrs. Smith, I didn’t think about you bein’ a widder—I vum I didn’t. Mrs. 8. Oh, no offense, no offense whatever; do pro- ceed. : Mrs. B. Wal, I was jest a-goin’ to remark that, if the men-folks didn’t admire the female sect, we might all of us remaiu old maids and widders all our days; don’t you think so? Mrs. 8. Very true, very true. Yes, I have observed it to be the case. Wal, I guess I must be a-goin; you hain’t got a drawin’ of tea, have ye, that you’d jest as soon lend as not? ‘ Mrs. B. Lord yes! plenty on it! Why didn’t you speak before; you know that when I’ve got any thing that my neighbors hain’t, I’m alers willin’ to devide with ’em. Mrs. 8. Yes—yes. It don’t hardly seem as if it was tea I come after; but I vow I can’t think. Let me see; I guess you needn’t do up any tea, Mrs. Brown; I’m e’ena’most cer- tain it ain’t tea; for, if I remember right, my tea-caddy is | full now. You couldn’t lend me a cup of sugar, could ye? Mrs. B. Jest as well as not—jest exactly as well as not. Mrs. 8. Well, I'd be obliged to you if you would; we are out of sugar. No, we ain’t, neither, for I sent Fred yes- terday with a roll of butter after sugar; it hain’t sugar [ want. Ido vum |’m gittin’ forgitful. Wal, now, it’s curi- ous I can’t think what I come over here after! Maybe, if you was to name over some of the things I’m accustomed to borrow, I could remember. Mrs. B. Wash-tub, ironin’-board, churn, bread, mop— any of them things? Mrs. 8. No; you hain’t come to it yet. Mrs. B. Dress patierns? nea i eee 60 THE DIME DIALOGUES. Mrs. 8.° No, I don’t think it was. Mrs. B. Yeast; wash-board? Mrs. 8. I declare for it, I can’t think what it is I want. Pl tay over the alphabet and you name over the things as I say ’em. Now be sure and say it slow, Ready—A. Mrs. B. Almanac, allspice, apples; them’s all the things Ican think of that begins with A, Mrs. Smith. Mrs. 8. It wa’n’t none of thems: 50 we will try B. Mrs. B. Butcher-knife, buckwheat-batter, bake-iron, bed- quilt. Mrs. 8. ’Tain’t none of them. Try OC. Mrs. B. Colander, cradle, cream, cat, cow. Mrs. §. No. Mrs. B. Pie-tins, broom, shovel, tongs, flat-irons. Mrs. 8. Them’s ’em! them’s’em! I knowed I'd think if ye’d give me time. Yes, it was flat-irons, and I do de- clare I must hurry. Sarah Jane will wonder what’s keepin’ me. (Mrs. Brown gives her the flat-irons.) Mrs. B. You are sure you have got the right things, are you? Mrs. 8. Oh, yes; I’m all right this time. Mrs. B. Wal, whenever you want anything come right over. I’m alers willin’ and ready to lend to my neighbors. Mrs. 8. Thank ye, I will; good-mornin’. (Exit) ’ Mrs. B, Well, I never! I think if I had to borrow as much as she does, ’'d remember what I wares at least. (Re-enter Mrs. SMIvH.) Mrs. 8. Dear me! how funny! It wasn’t the flat-igons I wanted, at all; it was your umbrelle. It commenced to sprinkle after I started, and reminded me of what I wanted. pond to put you to so much trouble; but, really, I forgot, ‘you was talkin’ so busy. I see you have an umbrella. Mrs. B. Oh yes! We always keep one on purpose to lend. Mr. Brown bought a new one, so as not to use this; ‘we have so many applicants. Mrs. §. Now, that’s clever-in him. (Mrs. B. takes the Jlat-trons and hands the umbrella.) ‘Well: Till return this when I git through with it. (Zit. (Ourtain. ) ra A BOoY’s PLOT, 61 Scene III.—The Donation party. Several ladies conversing.) Mrs. Grey. Dear me! I’m afeared we hain’t ‘a-goin’ to have enough provender; I do wish some one would fetch along some pie and cake; I didn’t bring nothin’ but beet pickles, cause most everybody allers brings cake and pie, and it wasent just handy for me to bake. f Mrs. Waite. What shall we do? I didn’t bring nothin’ __ but tomato pickles, thinkin’ they would be a relish. Miss Brack. And I fetched along some tomato-chowder, ~ and some catchup; I’m afeared we are goin’ to have ruther a B siim time ont. (Hnter Mus, GREEN with a pan. All exclaim, ** Pie and cake,” and gather around her as she uncovers the pan.) Mrs. Green. Good-evening, all! I brought a pan of baked beans, and here is some mustard, to eat on them. Did ia you ever hear the story of the man who had nothin’ but beans and inustard for dinner? Just as he had got to dis- cussing his meal— ; (Enter Frep. Suiru.) } F.S8. Say, don’t you think you would hit it closer if ant, as I ngs >d- aa aan E you left off the first syllable of discussing ? (Hvit) - Mrs. G. What a funny boy! Well, as I was saying, P Fag some one called and he asked him to sit up ‘and have some dinner. He passed him the beans first; but he shook his } head, saying, ‘‘ he never eat beans.” ‘Very well,” said the [ host, ‘help yourself to the mustard.” (All laugh except Mrs. GREY.) | f (Enter Mrs. Prru and Mrs. Woop.) a Mrs. Prim. Good-evening, ladies! Here are some man- a goes; I thought they would taste good for a change. Mrs. Woop. Now, ladies, I fear you will” think I haven’t done as much as I cught, but here it is—some pickled beans; I suppose every one else has brought enough, so we won’t starve. (Enter Mrs. Brown.) Mrs. B. Good-evening! good-evening, ladies! I think that a’party of this kind is a decided failure, if you don’t have some pickles; so I brought a can of beautiful cucumber EY pickles, (She Smiles.) Mrs. G. Well! Mrs. Brown, if pickles, and baked beans, \ ey ‘ ee ~ 62 THE DIME DIALOGUES make success, this will be one, for, as yet, we hain’t got a blessed thing else. For my part, I’m ashamed on it; I’d like to know who got up this donation, anyhow? Mrs. W. I don’t think you ort to say nothin’, Mrs, Grey; you dident bring nothin’ but beet pickles. (Enter Nuuiie Gay, hurriedly.) Ne.uie Gay. The preacher is going to be married to Sadie Smith! Aut. When?—Where?—How do you know? (etc.) N. G@. Here; right away! The preacher that is to per- form the ceremony has just come. Oh! but Sade does look sweet; and she is the sweetest girl I ever knew. If it was any one else I would be jealous. Mrs. G. And nothin’ but pickles and baked beans for supper! I’ve a good mind to go home and let ’em ‘sink or swim; survive or perish.” (Curtain.) Scene IV.—WMarriage Tableau. The bridal party, CHARLES SINCLARE and Sapre SmirH, with bridemaid and best man facing the audience. The preacher with book, stands side view. The groom holds the bride's hand. ‘They stand a moment; the priest closes his book, bows his head, as much as to say, ‘‘ the ceremony is ended. Before the curtain draws, enter Mrs, Surru in a rage, with a shabby white dress, many bright ribbons and flowers, and a jar of pickles in her hand. She stops a moment, as though much surprised. Mrs. 8. Oh! you villain! you impostor! you hypocrite! T'll sue you for Uabel/ The idea! there I’ve been a-waitin’, for the last three hours, while you was bein’ plighted to _ another, till at last I couldent stand it no longer, and 1 grabbed up my jar of pickles and started, and I’ve spilled half of ’em onto my dress. Atn’t I glad enough, now, that Betsy wouldent let me take the white satin, for l’d of spoiled it, and then I’d of had it to pay for. Sarah Jane! I demand to know what this means? How dare you go like a thief in “THAT UNGRATEFUL LITTLE NIGGER.” 63 ota | the night, and “steal a march” on the only mother you’ve Yd | got? ‘Tell me this minute—what does it mean? I was en- gaged to stand at the altar at this very hour with yonder Irs, _ scoundrel. You’re a bigamist! You’re a— Sarah Jane! - what does this mean? eR 8.8. Cn a frightened voice) Ask Fred. to 2 Mrs. 8. What does Fred know about my business? a 8. 8. Everything. Don’t you know yesterday was the } first of April? T- f Mrs. 8. Let me at him. I'll first of April him! Kk e (Enter Frev’s het.) is e F.S. Can’t do it, mother. a ’ * First of April’s past, c ; And you’re the biggest fool at last.” : ; (Curtain.) “THAT UNGRATEFUL LITTLE NIGGER.” FOR TWO MALES. (Enter old Grupson, a rough-looking gardener.) Grupson. Confound that boy! Why, he’s been gone long enough to grow the potatoes I sent him for, and I can’t do a bit of work without that hoe, nor remove the straw- berry plants without that trowel, nor get those seed-beds ready without that rake. Here it is well on into the spring and my work hardly commenced. (Hnter Pompry, a negro lad, dressed roughly—old hat, big shoes, tattered shirt, etc, He #3 loaded with a bag of potatoes, and a lot of wretched garden implements.) Oh, here you be at last, you young imp. ‘Where you been all this two whole hours? Pomery. (Throwing things down on floor.) Whar I bin? Dat’s a great squestion to ax. Bin? Why, I’s bin scoutin’ ober dis whole township to fill yo’ ordah fer /a tool sto’. Dar’s de answer, sah! (Pointing to pile on floor.) G. (Looking at the things, and picking up the old rake, which is minus half the teeth.) Whiat’s this? I sent you for a rake, to Smithereens. Do you mean to say he sent this to me? : ‘ 64 THE DIME DIALOGUES, done jes’ went out to de tool house an’ s’lected dat yar rake, an’ ses he, ‘‘ Take dat elegant implement to yo’ employer, wid my bes’ respects, an’ tell him if I had a worse one I would send it, seein’ as how he hasn’t returned the one I loaned him last year.” Dat’s what he communicated by dis yar telegraf, G. Why, the uncivil, ill-bred old ruffian! How mean some men be! P. (Rolling his eyes.) Dat’s so! G. Pretty thing this is (holding out rake) for me to do my spring’s work! P. Dat’s so! G. Why, confound the old skinflint— i | P. Dat’s so! G. Stop your talking! Confound the old skinflint, I’ve a great mind to return it and send word just what I think of such aman. (Zhrows rake across the stage to rear.) P. No use ob dat, sah—no use; for Smithereens ’spress- ly said dat it war yo’s to keep, seein’ as how yo’ never re- _ turned anything. He’s mighty liberal man, dat Smithereens. ~ Id jes’ like to lib wid him one yeah; perhapse he’d present me wid a later style ob hat dan dis (takes off hat and looks at zt), an’ gim me Shoes what will stay whar dey belongs on de feet. (Throws shoe off his right foot, up in the air, and catches at as it comes down, and puts tt on foot again.) G. You little, ungrateful scoundrel! To hint that, after all ’ve done for you! I’ve a good mind to break this rake over your head! : P. Don’t do dat, kase dat’s de only rake in dis yar county dat you can borrow; I knows dat, fer hasn’t I bin a conmittee ob inwestigation all dis yer term ob my service in de upper house—de loft whar I an’ de chickens an’ de rats meets in committee ob de hole? Yes, sah, dat rake’s de re- sult-ob all my obserwatin’, an’ yo’ can’t afford to go back on it. (Grins.) G. You monkey, be you laughing at my chagrin? P. (Looking very serious.) Not a-griv, sah. G. And the hoe? (Picks up from the floor a wretched re- mains of what was once a hoe.) What's this? 5 P. (Swelling arownd with hands in pocket.) Yes, sah; he _ ™merhoe. Dat’s what Massa Bullyman said it was. Tell him,” says he, ‘‘ dat I present it to him wid de compli- “THAT UNGRATEFUL LITTLE NIGGER.” P. Dat? Why, dat’s de las’ rose ob summer. G. You scoundrel! (Shakes hoe at him.) What do you mean? P. Mean? Why, dat’s it’s name—de las’ rose ob sum- G. Bullard, you mean. P. Yes; an’ he said—‘ Tell yer respected patron—” G. Did he say that? P. Yes, sah—‘‘ yer respected and generous-hearted pa- tron dat dis hoe is de same one dat he borrowed las’ spring, when it war new, an’ returned las’ fall in dis condition. ments ob de season, an’ hopes as how he will enjoy it.” (Laughs.) Ha! ha! ho! ho! G. You sonof anape! What do you mean? Are you lying to me? (Throws hoe away, angrily, to rear.) P. (Soberly.) Nebber tole a lie in my life, massa. I al- ways said to eberybody yo’ was a gentleman an’ a scholah, an’ had to be borrowin’ vings all de time kase yo’ was so charitable dat yo’ Jes’ gib away eboayt' ing yo’ had. Nebber tole a lie, no sah; an’ dat hoe an’ dat rake am de bes’ evi- dence ob my reputation fer voracity. G.. And the trowel for lifting the strawberries—I hope you got that? P. Well, not jes’ exactly dat, but Ginsling— G. Singleton, not Ginsling. P. Yes, Shingletown; he gub me dis (picks up a shingle), an’ says, ‘‘ Tell de ole Grub to—” G. What? What’s that? Did he call me the old Grub —actually Grub? P. The old Grub, sho’s yer born! I resented it, sah, on de spot. G. How did you resent it? P. Oh, I blushed to myself wid my suppressed feelin’ 3; an’ says he, ‘‘ Tell yer master—” G. Master? Then he didn’t say ‘the old Gr ub?” P. Yes; ‘‘ Tell dat infernal old Grub dat wid a jack- knife an’ a little injun—” G. Alittle Indian? What under the sun was he driving at? 66 THE DIME DIALOGUES. P. ‘A little injunuity—wid a jack-knife an’ a little in- junuity, dat he can make de bestis kind ob a trowel out ob dis shingleton,” an’ to use de knife you borrowed ob him to prune your roses and nebber returned. G. Howcould [return it when I broke the blade and lost the handle? Oh, he’s a mean one! And now to send me a shingle, with such a message! J’Il cut his acquaint- ance, and never buy another quart of milk of him as long as I live. P. Dat I wouldn't, fer he was jes’ mean enough to tell me dat you owed him fer all de milk yo’ had got ob him, an’ to say dat I might hab de money to buy me a suit ob clothes, if yo’ would be as prompt to pay de bill as yo’ usu- ally ar’. De idea ob your payin’ a milk bill to gub me a ; new suit ob clothes! (Laughs, and rolls his eyes.) : G. (Seizing the shingle.) I guess Pll use this on you for your impudence and lies. Singleton never would give away the six dollars I owe him—never; so I know you are lying. P. Nota lie, sho’s yer born! Of course de old sneak never would have guv me de six dollars if he had had il; he only gub me what-he hadn’t got, an’ if you gub me a lickin’ wid dat shingle den you'll gub me what I doesn’t want; so dat’s square, I guess. §’pose you see ’bout de pertaters in de bag. G. Yes, the potatoes! I hope the widow Gray has sent me that new variety she paid ten dollars a barrel for, last year. (Seizes bag from the floor and pours potatoes out. Pomp edges off to stage exit, rolling his eyes, asif in fear.) Bless my soul! What’s this? (Picks up a potato and tastes tt.) Cooked, as sure as I’m a live man! Pomp, you little pest of Satan, where be you? What does this mean? P. Tse got a call, massa; de widow Gray an’ dis nigger hab come to an understandin’ on de situation, an’— G. You infernal little vagabond, these potatoes are cooked! P. Yes, Grub, dey is a new variety what de widow sent, wid her compliments, an’ says dey is dat new variety—de “ Seek No Mo’;” dey is ready fer plantin’, an’ will produce peck ob ’taters to each hill, thoroughly cooked for de table. I won’t be here to enjoy ’em, Grub, for I’se concluded dat Z. . IF I HAD THE MONEY. q borrowin’ t’ings isn’t de mos’ hon’able perfession fer a nig- _ ger ob respectable lineage, who expects— G. (Throws potato at him.) Oh, you ungrateful cub! P. An’ de widow Gray, an’ Singleton, an’ Bullyman, an’ Smithereens, all sends dar disrespects; an’ if you’re smart |} — you'll git out ob dis neighborhood widout waitin’ fer de search warrant w’at dey expects to serve to-day to recover all de t’ings in dis house w’at is theirs. G. Search warrant? To-day? P. Yes, sah; de constable’s comin’ and I’s off. Good- hy Grub! Go an’ sin no mo’. (Zeit, ag GRUB dashes for him.) G. Oh Lord! I’m disgraced—I’'m ruined, and all through that nigger. But, I’ll outwit ’em, sure as I’m an honest man! Vl burn up every thing [ve borrowed—that wheelbarrow, the wash-tub, the ladder, the cider barrel, the clothes-line— the—the—yes, nearly everything in this house. Tl learn such mean, sordid creatures how to treat a good neighbor! I'll go to a new place, where I can begin life again; and oh, but it’ll be a pleasure to leave only a wreck behind! (Gathers up all the things.) If there is one thing more despicable, in this world, than an ungrateful little nigger, it is the people who lend such things as these. (Hait.) IF I HAD THE MONEY -A RHYMED DIALOGUE FOR THREE LITTLE GIRLS, FIRST GIRL. ' . If I had the money, I know what I'd wear ; Satins and velvets, laces costly and rare, Diamonds and pearls to entwine in my hair, Of feathers and silks I would have a large share, ° Rich robes trimmed with ermine, so soft and so fair, To have the best. costumes should be all my care, - To be dressed like a queen, oh, wouldn’t folks stare? Oh, if I'd the money what wouldn’t I wear! THE DIME DIALOGUES, SECOND GIRL. If I had the money, I know where I'd go, To the Switzers’ gay land, so covered with snow; Or to mountains so white, where the cool breezes blow, To Venice, so lovely, where gondolicrs row, To far, bonny Scotland with its highlands and low; In Paris, I’'d wander with belle and with beau, To England to witness the lord mayor’s show, Oh, if ’'d the money, where wouldn’t I go. THIRD GIRL. If I had the money, I know what I'd do, To myself and to others I’d strive to be true, To help those who have real wants, while we have few; To dress in rich garments may do for fair Sue, And to roam the world over, may be suited to you; I’d seek out the poor and pay their debts due, Each poor little vagrant should have something new, _If I had the money that’s just what I'd do. FIRST AND SECOND GIRLS. Yes, Bessie is right; we, like giddy young elves, Have been thinking of naught but of pleasing our- selves, With fine robes to wear and gay places to go, We'd be just like young butterflies, living for show. What use is the wealth if no good it will do, What matter the garb if the heart be but true? ALL, Let contentment be ours and give of our store; We can cheer, we can help, if we cannot do more. The mites bear a blessing, although they seem small, We'll remember the widow who once gave her all. The little we have we should cheerfully give To comfort the needy and help them to live. Travels oft weary, and rich robes fade away, But charity lives in God’s sight for aye. (Eeeunt.) Characters :—Muiss Grimson, Mrss Mrxon, old maids; Mrs, -an’ I’ve made only three calls where I’d ought to hev made . hours; but it paid, an’ I’m glad the widder didw’t come in all APPEARANCES ARE DECEITFUL. APPEARANCES ARE DECEITFUL. Murray; Dr. Bascom; Miss Prancn; Lapiss, belong- ‘ing to the society. : : Scunz I.—Miss Grimson’s parior. Miss GRIMSON eniers, as Ff just from her calls, Miss Grimson. Well, here’s the hull blessed day gone six. But, I couldn’t go no faster, that’s sure! Pumpin’ that little gal o’ widder French’s, just took a clean two that time. I declare that chit 2s a sharp ’un! Didvt she let out, though, about things! Oh! haven’t I larned a heap, and maybe I won’t make it warm for widder French! She holds her head so high, an’ is so awful perticular—l’ll take her down a good many pegs—see if I don’t! I miss my guess if Dr. Bascom don’t drop her quicker’n a hot potato. Dr. Bascom indeed! ‘The only rale good-lookin’ marryin’ man in thistown. I could forgive her fer all the rest, but . when it comes to settin’ her cap for the doctor—! I stepped in at Mrs. LaRue’s an’ give her an inklin’ of what was up, and my! but won’t she let it out! She can’t keep a secret no more’n a basket cun hold water. I just let Miss Swazie know too, something of how matters stood, an’ I ruther guess she'll not let it git cold fer want of exercise. (Knock. Enter Miss Mrxon.) Oh! how do you do, Miss Mixon! Glad to see you out again. Hope you’re ever so much improved by your sickness. A rale sickness, you know, makes one look so interestin’, an’ makes ‘people say so much about you, that: =< I don’t object to it. Do you? Miss Mrxon. Well, no—not if it’s not too hard an’ too expensive; but this havin’ to pay a dollar a call for the doc- tor is no fun. Miss G. Why, if you hev the young doctor, I think a dollar a visit isn’t much. Miss M, No, but (sighs) our family physician is old Dr. Homer. Miss G. Dear me! how provokin’ when you could ’a’ had young Dr. Bascom! I hed the toothache the other mornin? 70 THE DIME DIALOGUES. an’ called him in an’ he was pleasanter than a basket o’ chips. He’s a match any o’ us might be proud of. Hev you heard that he’s sweet on the widder French, as they call her? That'll be all up mighty soon when other folks Varn what Pve Varned this very day, Miss M. Is that so? Then I’m not sorry, for the widow, I'm sure, stands in the way of us young girls very much. Don’t you think so? Miss G. Of course Ido! MHasn’t she already entrapped the young doctor by her wiles? Oh! she’s a deep one, she is! But, I say, she won’t do it much longer. Miss M. What is it? Will you tell me? ; Miss G. Why yes, if you'll promise not to let on how you heard it. Miss M. Oh, that I’ll never do; you —— I never tattle, gossip, or peddle scandal. Miss G. No more dol! Well, the widder’s little girl she was to hum when I called there to-day, an’ the widder was out; an’ for two blessed hours I had that youngster (and she is a smart one) a-talkin’, an’ answerin’ the questions I put. You may bet they were leadin’ questions, too! Miss M. Just so—leadin’ questions. And they were— Miss G. They were tendin’ to find out all about the widder—who she was—where she come from—how much _ money she was worth, an’ lastly but not leastly, how long she’d been a widder; an’ the child jest answered every ques- tion plump, so now I know all about the woman. And first an’ foremost she isn’t a widder no more’n you or I. Miss M. You don’t say! How scandalous! Miss G. Yes, very! An’ Dr. Bascom ought to know it this very day, fer the little girl says he comes there al- most every night and stays long after the little one goes to bed. Miss M. How very scandalous! Miss G. Yes, very! An’ then, on the nights when he doesn’t come another man comes, always after dark, an’ no- body sees him but the widder as she isn’t. Miss M. Mercy, how outrageous! Miss G. YB) very! An’ when he goes away ‘the widder kisses him an’— al OT oS a ee gb eee APPEARANCES ARE DECEITFUL. 1 Miss M. Oh dear! How very shocking! Miss G. Yes, very. An’ she goes out to the’ gate when he goes away long after decent people ’ll be in bed, an’ _ kisses him again at the gate, an’ comes in cryin’. Miss M. Can such things be possible? And you say she ain’t a widow? Perhaps the man’s her husband, and he’s a highway robber, or a murderer, or something else, and don’t dare show himself before honest folks. Miss G. Oh, no, he hain’t. As I said before, she ain’t even a widder. Here’s the very worst of all. Her name is : Miss French. Miss M. For the land’s sake! Did the little girl tell you | -all that? Miss G. Indeed she did; and more, too. I asked her | how long had her ma been a widder, an’ she laughed as tickled-like as you please, an’ said her ma wasn’t a widder no more than I was—that. her name was Miss French, an’ that her ma thought it was a big joke that folks called her a widder, an’ she wasn’t going to tell them any different. An’ then I asked her where was her papa, an’ she said that she didn’t have any—that mamma said he was dead, but that maybe sometime she’d buy her a new one, Miss M. Oh, the bold, brazen thing! She ought to be tarred and feathered! And to think that she’s going around like a snake in the grass- among decent people. It’s too dreadful! | Miss G. Yes, very. An’ now, do you see her little game? She’s goin’ to rope the doctor in, an’ in the meantime she'll make what she can out o’ this otherman. She'll buy her little galanew papa, willshe? Yes, I guessshe will! Hf the entire town don’t know before two days who and what she is, my name ain’t Jemima Grimson. But who'll be the one to tell the docter? To think, with a score of us young an’ unmarried gals a-waitin’ an’ willin’ for a chance, he should git caught in the web of sech a spider! But he shall see her in her true light. I reckon the place’ll be too hot to hold her very long. I just ache to get hold o’ her myself. I could scratch her eyes out with a good grace! Miss M. And I! But you do beat all for findin’ ou mysteries. Now, I wouldn’t any more ’a’ thought of pump- 72 {THE DIME DIALOGUES. ing that child than I’d ’a’ thought of flying. Poor little young one! To be brought up in such a depraved atmos. — phere! I think our society ’d be justified in taking and put- ting her in some good Christian family to be brought up. Perhaps the doctor would like to adopt her—he! he! but that brings us back to the psint. T move we call a mecting and appoint a committee of three to go to his office and lay the facts before him. It’s a very delicate matter, to be sure, especially for us young ladics to broach; but it’s our duty as members of a church ina Christian community, and J will not be one to shirk it. It’s a very painful position to be placed in, though. Miss G. Yes, very; but l’m not one, either, to stand in the light o’ right. We'll call a meetin’ to-morrow, an’ fo- might there'll be somebody a-watchin’ that gate o’ widder French’s. Ijust want a good squint at tlt man, so I can. describe him. The doctor don’t-know he’s got a rival. Perhaps, when he diskivers the state of the case, he'll find there’s as good fish in the sea as ever was caught, and there are others in the world as good or better than make-believe widders. ve heard of sech things as folks’s hearts bein’ caught in the rebound. Are you goodat catchin’? Ha! ha! Miss M. I’m a little out of practice, but I guess I could try my hand at it. Will you enter the lists, too? Miss G. He might go further and fare worse than either of us. ‘Miss M. That’s so! And it’s so ee to have a doctor in the family! Miss G. Yes, very. An’ now let’s go and drum up the members of the society and tell them there's to be a secret , session held here to-morrow morning at ten on a matter of “vital importance to the interests of the community. (Exit.) (Curtain.) Scrnz II—Dr. Bascom’s office. M1ss Greason, Miss Mrxon and Mrs. Murray seated. Miss G. How my heart palpitates! I feel almost ‘like backin’ out at this late hour. S’posin’ the doctor ’d refuse to believe it? : APPEARANCES ARE DECEITFUL. 73 Miss M. Impossible! The facts are too overwhelming. I’m only thankful that the whole thing is going to be exposed before it is too late. Mrs. Murray. But, ladies, are you positive? As you stated it, at the meeting this morning, it looked suspicious; but may there not be some excuse for her apparently wrong conduct? I think that, before speaking to the doctor on the matter, it would have been better to have called and seen her personally, and— e Miss G. Seen her personally! Why, Mrs. Murray, you must be crazy! The idea o’ me contaminatin’ myself by speakin’ to such as her, much Jess goin’ to her house! Mrs. M. But, when I think of her sweet, intelligent face, it does seem impossible that she can be guilty of the charges ascribed to her. Miss M. (Snappishly.) Just like you, for all the world, Mrs. Murray. You're precious fond of taking the off-side of questions. One might almost think you’d been there your- self sometime, to hear you defend her. I don’t see what you were put on the committee for, anyhow. Mrs. M. I am sure it was not from choice ; but, seeing I am here, I shall lay the matter before the doctor as leniently as possible. It’s not our duty to judge the poor child, and I’m sorry we have taken it upon ourselves to do it. Miss G. Ofcourse! But, perhaps, if you’d been where I was last night, an’ seen her sittin’ on the lap of a ‘atrange man, an’ kissin’ an’ huggin’? him— Mrs. M. Where were you? Not spying, I hope? Miss G. I was lookin’ through the parlor blinds. Call it spyin’ if you like. ‘* All’s fair in love an’ war” is my motto, an’ I mean to stick by it. Anyway, I’d like to see you get over the fact of her having a child five years old, an’— Miss M. ’Sh! Herehecomes! My! My heart’s in my mouth! (Enter Dr. BASCOM.) Dr. Bascom. Why; good afternoon, ladies! Have I kept you wailing? Ima little late, I believe, but little Sadie French is not very well (ladies exchange glances), and I stepped in on my way down from dinner. This can hardly be a 74 THE DIME DIALOGUES. professional call, I take it? (Smiling. Am I to head some subscription list, or promise my attendance at the tea fight to-morrow evening? : Mis. M. No, doctor; but a more serious matter than either of these; and I want you to understand that it is not from choice, but from necessity, that J am here. Dr. B. Why, you almost alarm me! Is it anything ~which concerns me personally? Miss G. (Rising and laying her hand impressively on his arm.) Perhaps it'll seem heartless for ws to break the news fo you, but I, for one, consider it my solemn duty. Ever since the ’ first moment of our acquaintance I’ve felt different toward you from what I ever did to any other o’ the male sex. Maybe (sighing) you think this is strange talk for a consistent mem- ber 0’ the church, and I oughtn’t to say it, but I can’t help it; an’ how could I know your danger and conceal my burstin’ heart at your disappointment? Dr. B. (Bewildered.) Danger! what danger? Is there small-pox in the neighborhood? Miss M. (Getting up and coming to his other side.) Worse than that! We've been harboring a serpent in our very midst, and you will be the one which it will sting! But re- member, we will always be your friends, and time will con- sole “s for the loss of one who— Dr. B. (Shaking them off.) You speak in riddles! Mrs. Murray, what is the meaning of all this? Mrs. M. It means that we are a committee appointed to come and disclose to you, as being the person most concern- ed, certain facts which ure alleged to have been discovered in regard to the lady who has been until now known as the widow French. Dr. B. (Starting.) The widow French! Well, what of her? and why am I the one chosen? Miss G. Because you are the one to Varn the rale char- acter of that base, designing person who has chosen you to try her arts upon; but, thank goodness, murder will out! Dr. B. I would thank you to define your meaning a lit- tle more clearly. Am I to understand the young lady whom you know as the widow French is— Miss M. Just so; exactly! She’s no more a widow than APPEARANCES ARE DECEITFUL. you or me! and she’s Miss not Mrs,, and her little girl says she never had a papa, and— Miss G.. And there’s a man goes there every night when you ain’t there, an’ stays till midnight, and the kissin’ an’ carryin’ on’s enough to make you sick. Dr. B. (Lurning to Mrs. Murray.) What do they mean? Is this really true? Does a stranger really go there, and does she receive him? Mrs. M. If Miss Grimson’s powers of observation are to be relied upon, it is really so, but, I. can scarcely credit it. I recommended going to her first, for there are always. two sides to every question, but I was overruled. Dr. B. Well, it may be that it is just as well as it is. 1 thank you, ladies, for the-trouble which you have taken to inform me with regard to alady whom, as you have evinced, you know to be a friend of mine. Without passing my judgment upon the evidence which you have brought before my eyes, I can only say that it will be but just to give the lady an opportunity to vindicate herself, if she can. That is perfectly fair, is it not? Miss G. Give her an inklin’ of what’s goin’ on an’ I guess twon’t take long for sech as her to hatch up a story to fit. If you hain’t got evidence enough with what I’m will- in’ to swear by—why—I wash my hands of it. It’s our interest in you has made us willin’ to expose her, an’ we only . wanted you to know that if some folks weren’t what they pretended to be there was plenty of others who was. Dr. B. I understand evactly your feelings Miss Grim- son, and (smiling) will but add, that, in case your feurs should be verified, I think that my second choice would fall on some one (looks meaningly at both old maids, who simper and blush) from whom the breath of scandal would be as far as pole from pole. Miss M. But you say you want her to speak for herself, doctor? Dr. B. Ido, indeed. And TJ think to-morrow. night at the tea fight would be a most excellent opportunity. Invite her as if nothing had happened; I will be present, and then and there let her clear her skirts of all your charges, or leave the neighborhood. 76 THE DIME DIALOGUES. Miss G. Well, I s’pose it’ll be best as you say, doctor, but it’s hard on us innocent gals to have to receive in our presence such a character. However, I’d do more'n that for you, and you'll promise to forget our boldness in comin’ to you as we hev done? Dr. B. I cannot promise to forget your kindness. Mrs. M. We may find ourselves in need of forgiveness as well as forgetfulness. At least, I hope that it will prove so, and bam glad the poor girl is going to have a hearing. On this we must rest content until to-morrow night. Good- afternoon, doctor. (He bows the ladies out, Miss Grimson and Miss Mixon casting glances back at him until he closes the door.) 3 Dr. B. May Heaven defend me from the evil tongues of such as these! Ido not think that I could have kept my patience much longer. Poor Nora! To think that a breath of scandal should rest on her, of all good beings! I only hope she will not get a hint of it until she hears it from me. I must go down as soon as office hours are over and arrange aplan of action with her. How did that old scandal-mon- _ ger get hold of those facts as she called them? I longed to throw them back in her face, then and there, but it were best to wait. Good little Mrs. Murray! I don’t believe she could think wrong of any one’ if her life depended on it, How badly she seemed to feel about it! Never mind, Let them all pass from mouth to mouth their precious tidbit and make the most of it before the denowement comes. They will feel cheap enough, afterward. So she receives visils from, and kisses a strange man, does she? Naughty Noral (Zeit, laughing.) Scrne TV.—Mrs. Murray’s parlor. Seated and talking in whispers several ladies, among whom are Miss Grimson and Miss Mixon. Mrs. Murray and Dr. Bascom at other end of room. Servant. (Announcing.) Mrs. Dr.. Bascom! (Ladies APPEARANCES ARE DECEITFUL. (Enter Miss FRENCH.) Miss G. (Starting up.) The widder French!!! Dr. B. (Advancing) No, not the widow French. La- dies, allow me to present to you my wife, Mrs. Bascom. We were married privately this morning (Miss G. screams and falls back in chair,) and I take this occasion to announce our marriage and receive the congratulations of our good friends. (They all turn their backs excepting Mrs. Murray, who comes forward and cordially kisses the bride.) = Miss M. I’m perfectly scandalized! We'd better get out of this house as quickly as possible. I for one won’t be contaminated by breathing the same air with that vixen. (They all rise.) Dr. B. Stop! There is an explanation due you all, and an apology due the lady who is now my wife! (Miss M. sniffs.) Every place has of necessity, I suppose, its town gossip—its scandal-monger—who makes it her business to poke her nose into everything which does not concern her, and if there are no mole-hills to magnify into mountains, she manufactures them. This place, I find, is no exception to the rule. (Miss G. glares at him, and makes as though she would spring, but one of the others holds her back.) On this occasion a defenseless girl has been chosen, and because there was no one apparently to side with her, the whole town is up in arms against her, and she is to be driven from the place without even the chance of a defense; all this, because every one is too willing to believe the lies of a slanderer, whose object is, even to me, but too apparent. Miss G. (Screams.) Liar and villain! It’s well enough for you to talk, now you’ve married her yourself, but let’s see you prove it! The trouble with you is, you couldn't git any decent gal to hev you, so you had to put up with : what you could git! Miss M. (Sodbing.) Yes, and he actually told us yes- terday that he was going to take his choice between us! Miss G. Takehis choice betweenus! Td like to see him get a chance! I’ve always knowed that doctors was scamps, and I wouldn’t touch one with a ten-foot pole—zim least of all! I’ve had my suspicions of him fer months, and this only confirms them. THE DIME DIALOGUES. Mrs. M. Come, come, Miss Grimson, this won’t do. Don’t you think you might better give our friends here a chance to hear what the doctor has to say? Then afterward you can express your opinions. Miss G. I guess they’re pretty well expressed. Let him go on if he ken. Let him account for the strange man, and the little gal, an’ the kisses, an’ the nocturnal visits, an’ the widder onto her name when she ain’t even married. Aut. | Yes, let him. Dr. B. Certainly. I’ve only been waiting until I could be heard. Until this morning this lady’s name was J/iss Nora French, The widow was an invention of the man from whom she leased the house, and who, seeing her in black, and with a little girl, drew his own conclusions, which, as it turns out, were erroneous. The child is her own half-sis- ter, whose mother and father died when she was a baby. Nora has taken their place, and nobly has she filled it. The man is Nora’s brother, who was arrested for forgery the week before she came here, and who has been out on bail. Yesterday his trial came off, and he was honorably acquitted. He visited Nora secretly, because, while there was a stain on his name, he did not care to have it linked with hers. And now, good friends and neighbors, what have you to say to exonerate yourselves for the heartless way in which you would have treated this poor girl had it not have been brought to my ears through your ‘‘ Committee?” I think I owe them a vote of thanks, especially to our kind-hearted Mrs. Murray, who tried her best to have justice done; and either it shall be done, or I and my wife leave this place forever. As to the person, or persons, whoever they may be, who started this report, I leave them to their own con- sciences; but I trust that it will be a lesson not easily for- gotten. (Ladies all crowd around, shaking hands and apolo-* gizing, and saying ‘‘I told you so,” and “‘I never believed a word of it,” etc., while Miss Grimson flings herself out of the room and Miss Mixon begins to ery, . (Curtain.) LOVE’S PROTEST. "9 LOVE'S PROTEST. FOR TWO LITTLE GIRLS. (Enter the two—Sauuie richly dressed, and Mami poorly but SALLIE. MAMIE. SALLIE. Mamiz. SALLIE. Mamin, SaLizE. Mamie. neatly clad.) I’m bothered so where’er I go, I can but wonder why, For all the young men bow so Jow And smile as I go by. It is, I s’pose, because you’re sweet, And dress so prettily; But no one that I ever meet Bestows a bow on me. And why not, Maime, I’d like to know? You are as sweet as I, And can so many nice things do— T’m sure I can’t see why! Oh, well, you see, my father’s poor, And works hard with his hands, While yours is rich, and at his door A man in livery stands. Well, what of that? Do people prize Only what gold can gain? Do they the nobler prize despise Of heart, and soul, and brain? That’s what they do; no worth to them Like gold and bonds and stocks, And, though I wear mind’s diadem, They'd pass me with cold looks. _And do you mean to say, my sweet, That you must stand aside For every creature that you meet Who flaunts her wealth outside? That’s what the poor must always do Whene’er the rich appear— No poor man’s child must be in view, Unless to court wealth’s sneer. THE DIME DIALOGUES. Alas! then, if it is the truth— That wealth dares arrogate The right to rule o’er age and youth, And but with wealth to mate, It shall zot come between us, dear; Love shall the scepter be To force the purse-proud worshiper To bow the reverent knee! (They clasp each others’ waists and retire. AN ENFORCED CURE. FOR SEVERAL CHARACTERS. (Dr. Gray and CHAR in the Parson’s study. The Doctor looking over some books on a table, CHARLIE playing with some blocks, A knock is heard, Doctor Gray. Someoneis atthe door. Open it, Charlie, (Enter Toren Lapres, one bearing a handsome volume.) Lapigs. Good-morning, Dr. Gray. Dr. G. Take seats. The parson is out for a moment; I presume I shal] have to play the host until he returns, (LapiEs seat themselves, and commence coughing, the room being, at is supposed, full of tobacco smoke.) (Enter Parson, who lifts his hat to bow to the Laprss, when, to his chagrin, a whole bundle of cigars falls over him, and scat- ters around his feet. CHARLIR, seeing them, scrambles around on his hands and knees after them, exclaiming, Oh, cigars! cigars! The Lapiss titter and exchange glances.) Dr. G. I think, parson, the laurels with which you were crowned were rather loosely platted. Parson. (Confused.) Well, really—I—yes—ha! ha! Well, it is somethiug of a blunder, surely. Charlie, take them to my desk in the other room. I am happy to see you, ladies. 1sr Lavy. Is Mrs. Weakwill in good health? Par. Quite good, I thank you. I am sorry she is ab- sent from home today. You seem to be troubled with an afflicting. cough (te Lany No 2). AN ENFORCED CURD. 81 Dr. G. I presume she is not accustomed to the fumes of the cigars you have been smoking. 2p Lavy. (Rising and approaching the Parson.) We have come to present you (coughs) in behalf (coughs) of our society (coughs)—as a testimonial of our respect—a copy of “The Pastor’s Keepsake.” Par. (Taking the volume.) Iam at a loss to express my- self. Your kindness surprises no less than gratifies me. I hope I may ever prove worthy of the respect you have shown me. (The ladies rise to depart.) Par. Do not hurry, ladies, Lapis. We should love to stay longer, but for obvious reasons must retire. (Ladies retire.) Dr. G. Well, parson, I hope this unfortunate occurrence will have a good effect. Par. Idon’t see how any good can come of it. Dr. G. Thad hoped that it would lead you to give up the filthy practice which occasioned it. Par. The occurrence itself was unpleasant, but I do not feel willing to renounce tobacco on account of it. Acci- dents sometimes happen to all. Dr. G. Yes, but this might have been avoided. Now, parson, I do not see how you can preach a pure gospel through such an impure orifice. There is not a sewer inthe city as disgusting as the inside of yonr mouth. Besides the use of tobacco being a filthy practice, you place yourself on seriously, The drunkard hides behind the tobacco user. Par. Oh, doctor, you are making out too strong a case; snrely the drunkard would not compare his case with mire. (A rap is heard. The Paxson opens the door.) Par. Come in, sir! Pat. Divil bit will I come in, till I know where I am a coming to. Patrick O’Flannegan’s me name, and O’Flanne- gan was me father before me; and niver has the man lived - that saw an O’Flannegan stick his head into a bumble-bee’s P— nest! But, faix, that ain’t what I’m afther, though. Fe Par. Well, what will you have, Mr. O’Flannegan? Pat, Och, bedad! and how did ye know that was afther wanting anything? a level with those addicted to practices which result more 82 THE DIME DIALOGUES. Par. I-supposed you were, or you would not have come here. Pat. Well, what I’m afther is to find out whether it is or whether it isn’t; and if it is I want you to tell me, and if it isn’t I want you to let me know. Par. Well, I am at your service. Pat. Och, your honor! now yer at me. I wish to know if here’s where the preacher, Willy Wake lives? Par. My name is Weakwill. Will you walk in? Pat. Faix, to be sure an’ I will. (Walks in and helps himself to a seat.) Help yourself to a sate, Mr. O’Flannegan, for a fine clever fellow you may well call yerself. Par. Well, what can I do for you? Pat. Do yer best for me, me man, an’ if ye don’t make a nice job of it ye shill niver do it again. Par. But what is it that I am to do? Par. Och, an’ it’s to marry Bridget O’Bryan, an’ meself together, both at once, at the same time; for Bridget, ye see, is a natural-born Protestant, and I, Patrick, left the Catholics afther they turned me out, an’ now Bridget and I are going to get married and have the priest out of the ques- tion. So you must come to the house of Barney McDuff next Thursday evening, ‘an’ we’ll be ready for the scramble. , Come rigged up in your best, me honey, for we intend 10 _ have everything done up in the natest order, with the best rye whisky that the city affords, Par. Jam by no means gratified to know that you in- tend to have alcohol as a guest at your wedding; and here let me advise you to give up liquor altogether, for I plainly see that you are in the habit of using it. Pat, (Rising, and approaching Parson.) Och, now, yer honor, that’s very good advice! But, faith, by the looks of yer coat collar and the smill of yer breath, ’d swear yer a tobacco-chewer! Par. Well, what of that? Par. Sure enough, what o’ that? It’s a purty business for a man o’ yer cloth to be telling dacent people what ugly practices they ought to be laven off, when yourself are doing such a dirthy business! Par. Well, really, this is something I did not expect; me is | if AN ENFORCED CURE. 83 but, Mr. O’Flannegan, you will have to acknowledge that your habit costs a great deal of time and money. Pat. Och, now! who’s this that’s talking such stuff? Tell me! how much does your tobaccy an’ cigars cost a week? Par. Never mind that now. Par. But faix, an’ yer turnin’! Out, with it, ye one- sided, double-tongued humbug. Par. Well, then, cigars and all cost me only twenty-five cents a day. Par. Holy Patrick! an’ the half of it will kape me in whisky, unless I take a bit of aspree. So ye see ye’re on the wrong track, for ye can niver catch a pig if ye kape ahead of him. And about the wasting of time—your jaws are going all the time, and I only take a drap now and thin, be- twanetimes and occasionally. Par. But don’t you chew nor smoke? Pat. Och, now, just hear the man! I don’t know whether to hurt you or not. Do you think I'd be guilty of the dirty trick? No, sir, I’m too much of a man for that. (Walking around behind the Parson, slips a piece of tobacco out of his coat pocket.) Look ye, sirrah! (holding the tobacco in one hand and a bottle in the other) that’s what come from your pocket, and this what came from mine. Be Jabbers! which looks the nicest? which smills the swatest? which is the clanest? Take the dirty stuff! I can’t hold it! Patrick O’Flannegan chew tobaccy? Miver! Aw’ what would Bridget say, when she comes to be Mrs. O’Flannegan, if she’d see her loving husband coming into the house and splattering over her purty white floor with tobaccy juice? Patrick O’Flannegan chew tobaccy! No, be the Powers, I’ve too much respect for Bridget! She's a dacent woman, and the son of a dacent woman; an’ if she’d see her Patrick come into the house smoking a dirty cigar, shed knock him into jitheries. Och, now! ye filthy tobaccy-chewer. Ye need not think ye’re a-going to marry me and Bridget, for we're dacent people. Bedad, an’ we'll go to the squire’s! (Hzit Pat.) Dr. G. There, now, parson, I suppose I needn’t hunt up proof to show that drunkards can hide behind your skirts? (Enter CHARMIE, with some neighbor boys.) Indeed you can- | not think how annoying it is to have it thrown up to us that | 84 THE DIME DIALOGUES. our minister chews tobacco. Yesterday I saw a little boy smoking some stumps of cigars tnat he had found under your window. I tried to expostulate with him, but he fair- ly baffled me, by saying that the preacher smoked, too. Thus you are setting a bad example to others, and you often make yourself ridiculous. The only way to remedy the matter is to throw away, once and forever, the filthy stuff. You “doubtless remember how you were chagrined not long since, when, in the presence of a number of ladies and gentlemen at the tea-table, on withdrawing your handkerchief from your pocket, you flirted a plug of tobacco right into the plate of a lady who sat at your side. Cranium. (Interrupting.) Yes; and, papa, don’t you mind the time you spit over the arm of the pulpit, while you were preaching, on Mrs. Philips’s new white dress? And then, you know, once, when I was lying under the table, you spit right in my eye. Dr. G. You see, parson, that the truth of what I say furnishes itself. Par. Ah, doctor, you’re a hard case! Don’t push meso fast. Give me time to strike. (Looking around.) Why, here are my neighbor Jones’s children! Johnny, are you well to day? Jounny, Yes, sir, thank you. Par. Here is little Harrie, too! And does little Harrie go to school nowadays? : Harrin. Yes, sir. a Par. Does your teacher have you speak pieces? Harrie. Sometimes. Par. Suppose you let the doctor and me hear some of them? . Harrie, (Laysdown a whip which he has in his hand ana speaks.) What a little thing am I; Scarcely higher than the table; I can eat, and play, and cry, But to work I am not able. Though I am a little boy, Wicked things I must not do; I must never lie nor swear— Nor smoke cigars——nor chew! (Powa.) . —Z- AN ENFORCED. CURE. 85 Dr. G. Ha, ha, ha! Now, parson, how can you stand that? Par. You are inclined to turn everything against me! Dr. G. Everything turns itself against you. I do not see how you can hold out an hour longer. Par. Well, I do not like to be hasty, even in forming good resolutions. Just give me time to think—wait, anyhow, until to-morrow. Now, Johnny, let us hear a speech from you. JOHNNY. (Speaks.) Don’t tell me of to-morrow! Tf we look upon the past, How much that we have left to do We cannot do at last! To-day! It is the only time For all on this frail earth: It takes an age to form a life— A moment gives it birth. Don’t tell me of to-morrow! Give me the man who’ll say, Whene’er a good deed’s to be done, Let’s do the deed to-day; ‘We may all command the present, If we act and never wait, But repentance is the phantom Of the past that comes too late, Dr. G. Well done! well done! Now, boys, you shall have all the candy you want, at my expense. There is no excuse now, parson. Just say at once that you will never smoke or chew again. Par. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak. Dr. G. Do not be faithless in the conflict. Trusting in God, renounce forever the unclean thing. Cuaruie. Oh do, papa! Par. I suppose putting it off will only make the matter worse, Well, then, God being my helper, 1 do renounce the whole thing. Crartig. Ch, good! I tell you, that will be jolly good news for ma! Dre. G1 ain happy to congratulate you as a man once more, Par. A title I never deserved before. (Qurtain.) ee ETE = Sars: Sa 86 THH DIME DIALOGUES. THOSE WHO PREACH AND THOSE WHO PER- FORM. FOR THREE MALES, Characters ;—FARMER Brown; Carver InaHam; Mr. Downs, the landlord. The scene represents the office of a village hotel. Farmer * Brown and Carver IneHam discovered. F. B. That was a powerful nice lectur’ you got off to the Town Hall last night, sir. C. I. Thank you for the compliment; it has been con- sidered one of my best; at least, if I may judge by the flat- tering notices I have received from press and public. F. B. Idon’t often go to lectur’s, but I had business keep me here over night—I live some five miles back in the country—so I thought ’'d go to hear you and I’m glad I went, for the lectur’ had some good idees that I would like to see curried out, and I thought to myself that the man who could have such thoughts would be the one to make the thoughts deeds. C. I. Yes, those who preach should be the first to per- form, but, alas! how few there are that do so! F. B. Yes, that’s my idee. And I liked what you said how we reap what we sow and about how we weave out our own lives; it was a neat bit of poetry that. I can’t jest _ memorize how it jingles, but I sensed the meaning of it to once. C.J. I think you have reference to the words:— “The tissues of the life, To-Be, We weave in colors all our own; And in the field of Destiny We reap as we have sown.” F. B. That’s just it; some folks mark out good lives for themselves, and some, bad ones; and what comes arterwards - shows the results. But, broken threads can be mended if taken in time, jest as dropped stitches can be taken up. Some folks are continually slipping because there’s no one to hold them up until they get steady on their feet. Now, I think that when folks go astray, and want to reform, and ER- VS, THOSE WHO PREACH AND THOSE WHO PERFORM. 67 blot out what is wrong, those who do not help them to find the true path, and give them a helpin’ hand, are a good deal _ to blame, and have got a big account to settle, themselves, some day. And those are what I sensed to be your idees on the same subject, only I can’t expressify myself as well as you did; because, you see, I haven’t the gilts of eddication and talk that you have. ©. I. Yes, my good friend, you are right; a great moral responsibility rests upon those who have the power and yet lack the will of helping an erring or fallen brother, for some are weak and cannot help themselves, and we, who are strong-hearted and strong-armed, should aid them, It is a solemn duty and it would be a grievous sin were we to shirk that duty. “s F, B. That’s the way I Selibed it, myself. Now, in our place, there’s a young man who fell into evil company and got led,or went, astray and stole some money and is but just now out of a jail. He is young, and now seems the time to help him lead the newer and better life. It is not too late to join the broken threads. I know he is repentant and means to reform, but it is now he needs the true heart and strong arm, Might I ask if you make good pay at lectur- - ing? =~ Cc. I. Ah, yes, fair. I lecture five nights in the week, and receive fifty dollars per night, besides all my expenses. F. B. How you tell it! Two hundred and fifty dollars a week, about, clear gain! Well, the question I asked had some reference to the young man I was a-speaking of. C. I. You don’t mean that you had any idea of putting him in the lecturing field, do you? Only about one in ten is successful in that field. F. B. . Oh, no; such an idee as that never entered my head. Besides he is not fitted for that calling, whatever; he hasn’t the eddication for it. { didn’t know but you might give him some chance along with you. C. 1. I regret to say that I have no situation at my dis- posal F. B. Maybe, if he had a little money it might help him along until he found something to do. Couldn't you spare him just a letle ? ——— 83 THE DIME DIALOGUES. C. 1. I might, if I believed in the principle; but to such aone as you mention, it would be like money foolishly thrown away—he would only waste it, and it would be wrong in-either of us to put such a temptation in his way. F. B. I thought, from what you said into your lectur’, you would be the very one to stretch forth the hand to him as was unfortunit. I took in the sense of it to be that way. C. I. You misunderstand the idea of the matter entire- ly. There are some cases where it would be almost as wicked to give as to withhold, and this, it seems to me, is one of the cases, F. B. Yes, it must have been one of my mistaken no- tions—that all those who preach are the first to practice. C. I. Humph! TI am sorry, my good friend, I cannot stop to argue the case with you; but I am advertised to lec- ture in the next town this evening, and I fear I may miss the train if I am not expeditious. Good-morning, my dear sir, good-morning. (Zxit L. as Mr. Downs enters n.) Mr. Downs. Ah, good-morning, Farmer Brown. ‘That ‘was a fine man who left you just now; he pays like a prince. Fine lecturer, too, and always draws a crowd, because his lectures are so brimful of charity for the fallen and aid for the weak. F. B. His sentiments are true, and his advice excellent; but what good do they do if a man doesn’t carry them out himself in his own life? Now, he doesn’t; for I was plead- ing for Ben Harding, and strived to enlist his sympathy for the young man, but be gave a deaf ear and turned the cold shoulder to all I could say. Mr. D. I don't know as he was so far wrong in that. No one cares to shoulder such a responsibility, The young man was guilty, and deserved his punishment. F, B. I grant you that; but, as he has received his deserts, why Jet the guilt and punishment be held over him forever? I heard your porter had left you. Why can’t you give Ben Harding the place? He’s active and strong, and would d» the work faithfully and well. Mr. D. I don't see how you can think of such a thing, or make such a proposition to me. I should lose all my custom when it were once know that I had in my employ ‘an ex-thicf and an ex-prison bird. ; tall 4 THOSE WHO PREACH AND THOSE WHO PERFORM. 89 F. B. It is alle It is past and gone. He has been taught a good lesson, and learned it well. Now he has ~ | formed a purpose of amendment and a resolution to reform. Mr. D. Since you are acting as his champion and friend, “why do you not give him some work on your farm to do? | Ave you afraid io hire him, and want to shirk the responsi- _ bility on to others’ shoulders? F. B. It is not on my own account that I have not done as you suggest, but simply on Azs own. Mr. D. On his own! How do you make that ont? F. B. Well, you see, I thought because he had been | brought up in our town, and taken from there to jail, the - people might taunt him and throw it at him, and that might be disagreeable to him and hurt his feelings. 2. Mr. D. How considerate! The idea of respecting the feelings of a thief and jail-bird! F. B. Well, he as feelings of his own if no one else has _ any feeling for him. I thought, if he were away where he wasn’t so well known, and where he wouldn’t be hectored, it would be better for him. But, as it seems so hard to get other peeple to keep him on his feet again I'll just be gum- stickummed if I don’t give him a show myself, and if any one dares to hint at what he has done, or where he has been, _ Tl just measure his length on the road with my fist and he’ll not get up agaiu until he begs my pardon as well as that of Ben. Harding. I can’t Jectur’, and make pretty speeches, but I can acé the Golden Rule, and I shall consider Tm airning my fifty dollars at a good mark. (Zit, indignantly.) Mr. D. More sterling stuff in that subsoiler than in navy a fine talker, Ive seen a good deal of men and know that it isn’t those who preach fine-spun ideas about man’s duty to man that are most likely to give a poor devil who is down, a helping hand. Noindeed! They usually end with the preaching and leave it for others to do the real work of charity. As I told Brown, it would hurt my business to have Ben in my employ. People are s0 sensitive—none more so than those who have mean heads and rotten hearts, - Oh the hypocrisy of what makes up the show of this life, _ None sees it more or knows it better than the tavern-keeper, i | \ . i | 90 THE DIME DIALOGUES, who, after awhile, grows to look upon everybody as a pre- tender and humbug until he learns from some little act what _ a man or woman really is. Moral, of what I have just : seen:—I’d trust Farmer Brown to the end, for he’s a man — when he dares to face public opinion and take Ben Harding => (Err by the hand. I wouldn’t trust that sleek spoken lecturer as | far as youcould sling an old hat, for beneath his smiling face Al is a.soul as mean as sin itself. (Enter Joun.) JoHN. Farmer Brown is going and wants to pay his bill. Mr. D. Tell him, John, that the bill is paid, and that he ean have the freedom of this house as long as he practices the Golden Rule. Joun. Eh? What’s that? Some new game he’s in- vented? : Mr. D. No, not an entirely new game; it’s rather old, in fact; but so littie used that when ib és practiced you see I rather want a hand in. Joun. Yes, I see (scratches his head,) but, if there’s many as is going to practice it you’ll be a poor man if you gives em all the freedom of this house. Mr. D. Never fear; the number will be so small that one bed a month will hold them. But Tl see Farmer Brown myself, I gave him my public opinion of Ben Hard- ing; now I'll give him my private hand-shake. (Zizit.) Joun. Ben Harding! Golden Rule! Hang me if I un- derstand. Guesses as how my iddication has been neglected. Ben Harding was a thief. Ah, I have it. He’s been steal- ing a golden rule and Farmer Brown’s goin’ to practice law and gospel on him, He’ll give the till-tapper lots of fun! The poor cuss hasn’t got any friends, so it’s all up with him again, I s’pose. It’s hard—hard lines fer such as gets once under the ban in this world, (Exit.) A GENTLE CONQUEST. 91 ” = A GENTLE CONQUEST. hat : ust J FOR TWO GIRLS. “ | (Enter Evsm and Annte. Exstx looking scornfully as if in ng X bad temper, hair disheveled, and hat dropped back off her 5 z head =ANNIE nicely dressed.) | Annig. ’Tis a very, very little thing gs To speak the spiteful word, But who can tell how keen the pain is ' , In some sore heart is stirred. en You would not have it said of you s ‘Wherever you may go— “ There is the little spitfire who Delights in others’ woe.” Exsrze. I don’t care—so I don’t—at all, For everybody’s hate; They think, I s’pose, because I’m small, Their verdict I must wait. But I will show them, every one, -_ That what I wish, I do; And if they smile, or if they frown Tis all the same—so now! Anniz. Oh do not make so sweet a face Look like a Fury’s child, Nor dare the dangers of disgrace By conduct rude and wild. You care more for our love, I know, Than for the harsh return; An uncurbed temper or a blow Is sure to make your own. Exsm. What if I care for love—will it . Come at my wish and beck? a *Tis not so cheap that every chit F Can wear it round her neck. d I'd like love that I knew was love, f But who can know when ’tis? : And who can read the heart and prove No treason in its kiss’ x - 92 ANNIE, ELsin. ANNIE. ELSIE, ANNIE. — - ELSIE. | ANNIE, Exsin. THE DIME DIALOGUES. Dear Elsie, if for love you seek It will come at your call, Tho’ in a guise so gentle, meek, You'll scoff its timid thrall. But put away the ugly sprite That seems to sway your breast, Then all the day and all the night, Love will be your sweet guest. And then I'll cease to rule and reign And see my power grow less, Not cease to rule, but all hearts gain By your own graciousness. And will I never have it said I’m some poor penitent? -Of being good be not afraid, Nor of a life well spent. And if I love what’s good and sweet Will I be lovable? If you will let love guide your feet, With Jove’s own you will dwell. Then I will try with all my will To walk in love’s still ways And let your gentle influence fill The measure of my days. (They clasp waists and exit.) ‘ THE END, — +d IDIME STANDARD DIALOGUE For School Exhibitions and Home Entertaimneats, | fice. 1 to 21 inclusive, 15-to 25 Popular Dialogues and Dramas in each book. Eavh volume 10 é 12mo pages, sent post paid, on re-eip? of price, tun cents, ; | Beadie & Adams, Publishers, 98 William St., W. ‘Y. rhese volumes hure been prepared with especial reference tc thei+ avcilability for Exhibitiony, 2g 8 SND YOUNG PEOPLE of every sge, bot! dapted .e schools and varlors ‘vith or witheut the furniture < a ¢ atdsuned to SCHOL Momele and female, 4¢ is utr to ssume that rq ‘oka in the market, at any price, contain so many useful and availavje d:alogucs and dramee at) .8- hamorand sentiment. DIME DIALOGUES, NO. 1. { +-le Muses, For nine young ladies. jHobnobbing. For five s eakers, --'2 Englishman. For three boys, 3 ‘orenation. For ale and female, ‘The Secre* of Success. Youn Yor thre> speakers, America. Three males su“ two famnlea vkion, For wo Indies. Josephine’s Destiny. Four females, one n-sit Rehearsal. For six boys. Che Folly of the Duel. For three male speakerm : wii you Choose? For two boys. Dogmatism, For three male speakers, f tle girls. ‘The Ignorant Confounded. For two boyw ‘The Fast Young Mon, Fortwo male, fk Mission of the Spirits. Five young ladies, BIME DIALQ f 2 males and 1 female, tilaz or, The Littie Glass Slipper. Doing Good ana Sayirg Bad. Several characters. Tie Golden Rule. Twe males and two females, Yhe Gifl of the Fairy Queen. Several femalea. Taken is and Dons For. For twe characters, The Co mtry Aunt’s Vis.t to the City. For sev- era! characters, Tke Two Romans. For two males, g the Characters. For three meles. The Happy Family. For several ‘aniwala?, Vhe Rainbow. For several characters, DIME DIALO fh May Queen. For an entire school. Or 43 Reform Convention. For ten females, Reosing Bad Company. A Farce. For five males, Vourting Under Difficulties. 2 males, 4 female. Xational Reprssertatives. A Burlesque. 4 males.) Eeraving the Sraft For numerous wales. . |The Virtues, Muleand female.|The Yenr’s Reckoning. 12 femates av? f mal, male and female. |The Village with Ons Cartte: & Bor etght males gal one ATP) GUES, 479, 2. : How to See 30 * Popular *ftorlan, Sy.¢ eer The News1d the Old. For we maleg - A Sensatio1 9% Last. For two malag. The Greensorn. For two males, The Three Mon of Science. For foar meicz, The Old Lidy’s Will. For four malea, The Little 2hil.sophers. For two little gist How to en Heir. For five males, For six young ladies, A Connnbiot Eclogue. The Public mecting. Five males and onefemaly ‘The Englis: Traveler. For two males. GUES, NO. 8, ‘The Gentee. Cook. For two males. Masterpiecs, For two males and two femeles, The Two Rymans. For two males. The Same, Secondecene. Fortwo malos, Showing th» White Feather. 4 males, 1 femele The Battle Call, A ive. For one male, DIME DIALOGUES, NO. 4, The frost Ving. For ten or more yerséns. Starting in Life. ‘Three males and two females. h, BH »pe and Charity. For three little girls. oe gad Joun. Fer tvo males an:l one female. The Way. A Floral Pavey, For six litse girls. fae Encrintea Prices, ? males, several females o*erto Whom Henne is Due, 7 inales, 1 female Nentle Client. Forsevaral males, one female The Stubb’etown Volunteer. 2 males, 1 ferele A Scere from ¢ Paul Pry”? For four males. Tie Charms. For three males and one femola, Bee, Clock and Broom, For three little girls, The Right Vay. AColloqur. Fer two koya- What the Lsdyer Says. F-r two males. 'The Crimer. 0? Dress. A Cologuy, I The Rewav' of B.nevolence, Lr fc * iogy- A Discussion, For twenty males, The Letter, Ics tyro malice. DIME DIALOGUES, 2:3 5, atras Guesses, For school or parlor. iment. A‘ ‘Three Persany’ ”? Fa ce. gehind the Curta‘n. For males and females, ine Eta Pi Society. Five boys end a teaches, a ou Day, Forseveral female cheracters, nz in ‘* Traps.” Forseveral malra, Thefchco! Boys’ Tribunal. For ten boys. A Le a2 Tongue, Several males ard females, How Not to Get an Answer. Tor two females. BME DIALOST fhe Wav They aSerret Male and female». The. Poet under DiBeulties For five nutles. Fviam Tel, Fora “shoe school, F? > nan’s Righta Seven temalesand tren males. # + fs not Cole tha, Gitters, Male aud females. sen $46 Generous Jew, Sor six males. amaerse Se tnesb males and ane tamale. [Putting on ti 4.S |The She at More “Oy |Two ideas of Life. A Coiioquy, |Extract from Murino Falicro, iMa-try An Acting Charade, |The For tix young ladies, Tle ¢ Tristan at Home. . For two mates, Fashion *>le Requirements. For threo p*ris. la Revy -f 1's (Eyes), For eight orless little guia ; ee a For three males. “he T.zo Counselors, For three malca, The “otaries of Folly. For a number of fomates \nnt Jetcy’s Beaux. Four females and to mates The 0] Sait, bor two femaea and one mae Claus. Fore number of boro insmas Fairiea. For several littio gitky The Paren Sivonen, Bae tern meing —— — ie Rime Schoo! Scries—Dialogues, DIME DIALOGUES No. 7, 4 Pr mioiling officer, Three girls and two boys. ‘hy use bail snthusiist, For three boys. ‘Lhe girl of the period, For three girls. The tow! rebellion. ‘I'wo males aud one female, Blow but sure. Several males and two females. Sandle’s velocipede, One male and one female, The figures. For severa! small children. fue trial of Peter Sloper. for seven boys. DIME DIALOGUES No, 9, | t Advertising for help. For a number of females. | The law of human kindness, For two temales The society for general improvement. Kor gh A nobleman in disguise. Three girls, six voy Groat expectations. For two boys. Playing school. Five females and four maics. Clothes for the heathen. One male, one fea: A hard'case. For three boys, Ghoets. For ten females and one mae ; fie ewo beggars «For fourtesn femalea, Two views of life. Colloquy, For two femalé | he earth-chilC in fairy-laud. For girls, The rights of music. For two femaies. Br ne ri Twenty years honce. “‘f'wo females, ope male. A hopeless case. A query in verse, Two girls Woma rl ; The way to Windham, For two inales, The would-be school-teucher, For two male® 7 eves 4 Woman. A poetic pasrzge at words. Two boys, | Come to life too soon, Tor three “males, Prtnve | The ’Ologies. A Cohoquy, For two males. Eight o’clock. For two litcle girls, P {nest e How to get rid of a bore. For sevyral boys. True dignity. A SOLENT: For two boys, bi A ora Ms Boarding-school. Two males and two females, Grief wwo expensive. For two males, \ Pies for the pledge. For two males, Hainlet and the ghost. For twe persons { hy t The ils of dram-drinking, For three boys. Little red riding hood, For two temales. ey ; hs True pride. A colloquy. For two females, New application of au old rule, Boys and gir FF x ye *» otwo lecturers, for numerous inales, Colcred cousins, A colloquy. Fortw: maigh t° ae 4 % i DIM BIALOGUES No. 8. E aa airy School, For a number of girls. Getting a photograph. Males and females i i H America to England, greeting. For two boys. Spoiled children, For a mixed school, J H The old and the new, Four females ons male, | Brutus and Cassius. i Choice of trades. For wwolve little boys, Goriolanus and Aufidius, i The lap-dog. For two females. Tho pew scholar. For a number of girls, ' Lhe victim. For four females and one male, The self-made inan, For three males, . a | | The duelist. For two boys. The May queen (No. 2.) For a school, * The true philosophy. Fér females and males. Mrs. Luckiaad’s economy. 4 boys ard 3 girl i; A govd education, For two femalem. Should womea be given the ballot? For boym , 3 DIM OTALOGUES No. 10, ‘Y i Mrs. Mark Twain’s shoe. One mule, one female. | The rehearsal. Fora school. di : The old flag. Schoel festival. For tires boyw. | ‘The true way. For three boys and one girl. { The court of folly. For many girls. A practical life lesson. For three girls. Great lives. For six boys and six girls. Yhe monk and the soidier. For two boys, ! Beandal. For numerous males and females 1176-1876. School festival, For uo girls. RE ee ey The light of love. Wor two boys. Lord Dundrexry’s Visit. 2 males and 2 female ; dren, For two)ve girls. Witvhes in the crerm. For 3 girls and 3 bevs ; le, For three boys, Frenchmsa, Charade. Numerous characvere & discussion, For two boys DIME DIALOGUES No, 11, F peeerenoe are vary deceitful. For six boys. Fashionable dissipation. For two Jittle gris | hi 4 conandruim family. for male and female. uring Betsy. ‘Three males and four females. Jack and the beanstalk, For five eharacters. The way ty do it and not to doit, 3 feinnles. How to become healthy,ete. Mule and females The oaly trua cife. For two girls, Slagsic colloquies. For two boys, i, Gustavus Vasa and Cristiern, Uf. ‘Tameziane and Bajazet, | un Iwas young. For two girls. i.a¢ nest precious herituge. For two hore She double cure. Two males and feue fe'cules. Lhe flower-garden fairies, Por five littia girls. $emima’s novel, ‘Three males and two females. Sewaro of the widowa Fo three givly X re. agsorance, For severa charactera, ‘dois wanted. For several characters, ; The real geatleman. For two te- « A school charade. Yor two boys and two Jenn Ingelow’a “Songs of Seven.” Sever ¢z A debate. For four boys. Ragged Dick’s lesson. For three b¢ School charade, with tat] A very questionable story, A sell, For three males. DIME DIALMGUES NO, 12. 5 A family not ¢o pattern after. ‘en chy. How to man-age. An acting charade. ‘Vhe vacation ecapade. Vour neys and teati<& That naughty boy. Three females and a mate Mad-cap. An acting charade. All is not gold that glisters. Acting proverb, Sic transit c‘oria muadi, Acting charade. DIME DIALOGUES NO. 13, _ wo o’clock iv the morning, For tree males. ee uanatinz meeting, For seerrsl females, Ure and behind the ser res. Several charact’s. Lhe noblest boy = Arw spyrof bys and teacher, Iu» Beard, A rer pate For girls and boys. ot so bai asit seem, For veveral characters, curbstone matal. er two wales and female, ‘wage va. gentinent. Ws: narlorand exhibition. ‘Worth, not wea'th. For four boysandr teaches No such word as fail, For several ina'es, The sleeping beauty. Fora sehnc . An innocent intrizae. Twomale. enda femme Old Nobly, the fortnne tellers Fc, three zic Boy-talk. For several little bovs. Mother isdend. For several little girls, A practical ilinstreticn, For tw hoys and ¢2% in Mrs. Jonas Jones. Three gents and two ladies, The born genius. For four gents, More than one hatener. For four gents and lady, Who owearth is he? For three girls, Tue right not te tea pauper. For two boys. Woman nature will out. Fora girls’ school, tict rnd bachelor, For two boys, t ota dress, For tive persons, viso party. For six litile girls, ul demonstration. Por three boys. L gi ste sor 4 oracs ¢ ‘sirivs’ escapade. Numerous characters } 20t’s perplexities, For six gentlemen. tome cure. For two ladies and one gent. « gvod there isin each. A number of boys. milenen or meakey. For two boys. che little philosopher. Kor two little girls. . Aunt Polly’s lesson, ¥or four ladies. \ A wind-fall, Acting charade. Fora num)e, Will it pay? For two boys. DIME DIALO Polly Ann. For four ladies and one gentleman, The meeting of the winds. For a school. The good they did. For six ladies. The boy who wins. for six gentlemen. Good-by day. A colloquy. For three girls. The sick well man. For three boys. The inv estipating committee. For nine ladies, A“ corner” in rogties. Forfour boys. DIME DIALO to te happy you must be good. For two little gids and one boy. Wanescent glory. For a bevy of buss. he little peacemaker. For two little girls. “What parts friends. For two little girls. Martha Washington tea party. For five litth. girls in old-time costume, The avil there is in it, For two young bors. Wise and foolish little girl. For two girls. A child's inquiries. For small child and teacher, ‘The coking club. For two girls and others, Zow to do For two boys. r } hundred years te come. For boy and girl. Don’t trust f.ces, For several small boss. Above the sk Yor two small giris. he true heroism. For three little boys. Give us little boys 8 chance; ‘he story of the plum pudding; (i hea man; A little girl’s rights speech; Johnny’s cpinion of grand- mothers ; The bo»stiug hen; He knows der ret; Asmall boy’s view of corns ; Robby’s ry wishes. ‘Yor several characters. ‘ose wi:hout a thorn. 2 males and 1 female. greedy by half. For three males. ae good turn deserves another Yor 6 ladies, rting Melinda, For 3 boys avd 1 lady, ‘he new scholar. For several buys. The little intercessor, For four ladies, Guteccdents. For 3 gentlemen and 3 ladies, An awful mys DIME DIALO ay Contentment. For Two females and two males. five little boye, Who are the saints! For three youan gifls. California uncle. Three males and th*ee evnales. Be kind to the poor. A little folks’ pley. How people aro insured. A “ dust,’? Mayor. Acting charade. For fov« characters. The smoke fiend. For four boys. : Bime School Serics-Dialogues, DIME DIALOGUES No, 14, Refineinent. Acting charade. Several charseseg Conscience, the arbiter, For lady and yeny How to make mothers hy py Bor two boya, A conclusive argument, A wonan’s blindness, ‘The fatal mistake Eyes and nose. Retribution. Fora number of boys, DIME DIALOGUES No. 28. The heir-at-iew. For numerous males Don’t believe what you hear, & A safety rave. ‘The chiei’s resolve. Testing her friends, The foreigner’s t oubles. For two } ‘Lhe cat without an owner, Natural selection, GUES No, 16, GUES No, 17, LITTL# FOLKS’ SPEECUKS AND DIALOGUES. DIME DIALOGUES No. 18, ‘ ~—— or two gir! For three gir! tun’s work (Temperance y For four genta, For two young ladies, ent and one lady. For one Por three saci For three ladies. * Extract. For two nit!o & For several characters. ies. Several characters, For three gentlemen, The imps of the trunk room, for five girls. The bousters. A Colloquy. For two little girlg Kitty’s funeral. For several little girls. Stratagem, Charade. For several charactera, Testing her scholars, For numerous scholars, The worid is what we make it ‘l'we girls. The old and the new. Vor gentroman aud lady. sermon ; Nobody's child ; Nutting at grandpa Gray 6; Little boy's view of how Columbus aiscovered Ainerica ; Little girl's view; Lit tle boy’s speech on time; A [ttle boy’s pock. et; The midnight murde.; Robby Rob’s see. ond sermon; How the Laby eame; A boy’e observations; The new slate; A mother’s love ; The creownin’ glory ; Baby Lulu; Josh Billings on the bumbie-bee, wren, alligator; Died yesterday; The chieken’s mistah ives 3 Don't Del REPT eRSs Deliver us from evil _ want a drunken fellow, a slow to condemn; 0 be good, Onl The two little robins ; A nonsense tale; Little voy’s declamation ; child’s desire; Bogus; The goblin cat; Rubs a-dub; Calumny ; Little chatierbox; Wherg are they; A boy's view; The twenty frogs Going to schoo: ; A morning bath; The giz of Dundee; A fancy; In the sunlighy; The new laid egg; The little musiciax «Idle tar Pottery-man; Then ana now, Give a dog 9 beg name. For tour genr.en +} Spring-time wishes. For six littic gir.s Lost Charlie ; or, the gipsy’s revenge, > { Samy merous characters, A little tramp. Wor three little boys, . Hard tines, © For 2 gant'emen aad 4 indias, The lesson well wortn learning, For two mase avd two females, GES, NO, 19. The refined simpletons, Yor four ladies, Remember Bensun, For three males. Modern education. Three males and one femele Mad with too much lore, For three males, . The fairy’s warning. Dress piece. For two girly Aunt Eunice’s experiment. For severai he ‘Uhe mysterious GG, Two females and onemale We'll have to mortgage the farm, For one mae and two females, ; . An old-fashioned duet. Aptadereaties ealogae. Fors Christmas Fes- tival. Personated by seven characters. Bho uso ofstudy. For theve girls. ‘ ‘The auction. For numerous characters, t 5 os The wrong man, Three males aud three females {Av vt two Jittie girls. € ed’s present. for four boy's. and one b The silly dispute. For two girls and teacher. Not one there! For fuur wale characters, fternoon Calis. Judge not. Wor teacher an ‘eli, dreams. For four little folks. A ‘Dime School Serlies=Bialogues, DIME ‘DIALOGUES, “No, 20. i several scholars, by pees For two bovs. Foot-print. For wumerous character . ‘Two mi i ‘Busliah. For For three boys. y uccessful donation party: out of danger. ed Ris ales and three fem s.|Keeping boarders. castle. For five males and three females. manners and country hearts, For three giv ‘Two fein les and three males, 3 inales aud 1 semale.| A cure tor good. One lady and two gentlemen. DIME DIALOGUES, No, 21. + For several, | Mark Hasti For three males and ‘Cind relia. "return. For four malez or several children. {Too much for Aunt Matile g Hood. For ooo childvea, Wit a: esuvius. For six littls girls. Cher’ sduluus-wise-acre. “For two males, + For three fou inst wie. Three females and on. ow she made him propose. A duet. A sudden recovery. For three males. - "he house on the hid. For four females. The double stratagem. For tour fema’ea, Evidence enong:. For two mules. Counting chickens betore they wera Lotched Worth and wealth, For rour femalea ) For rour males. Waterfall. For several, ' She Dark Cupid; or, the mistakes cf # morning. |Titania’s banquet. For three zentleme a and two Ir tea. That Ne’er-do-we!l; cr, a brother’s lerson. For|A rainy two males and two females, DIME DYIALOGUES, No, 22. igh art: or the new mania. For two girls, God is love. For a number of scholars, For 2 males, 2 females. Strange ndvoutures. For two boys The king’s supper. For four mira. ae: A prac tical exemplification, oe two boys. Monsieur ‘Thies in Ameri Frenchman. For four bo Doxy’s diplomacy. 3 fema ladies aud oue gentleman, Rioda Hunt's remedy. For Hans Schmidt’s recommend. Cheery aad Grumble. For two | tile povs. The pha anton donghnuts. For six femadys. Does it pay? For six males, Company manners and home impoliteness. two males, two females an The gladdays. For two little boys. Wnfortunate Mr. Brown. KF The way he managed. wa; or, Yankee vs. The litile doctor, Fortwo tiny girls. ys, A sweet revenge. For four boy entals.’}A May day. For three little gir s. & Frenchman; or, the outwitted sunt. For two|From the sublime tothe ridiculous. For 14 males Hes ard‘ {ni Heart not face. For five boys. DIVE DIALOGUES, No, 23. a time. For tw ath ge d two children, male. or 1 nave, 6 feasnles. cs V8 just little girls Forcleven 9. The roul cost. For two girls. Pedants all. Tor four females. The goddess of liberty. For The three graces. For three hitth The music ¢ A strange secret. For arse Anunjust nen. For ione wm. les, The shop girls vistory, 1? male, 3 femeloa meth se. 2 geutlemen, 2 iadies. For The psyel eau is no weer, fox it, + ‘hinisical, 4. numer of c sased are chs peacemakers, sa 304,4 .8 of the delectables and Tes miser- ao a7. «or two ladies and two gent Wet each would have, 6 litt!e boy Scrui hs Yicud ja need. For four males. TosAours. For twelve tits fh doors axl out. For five little bows. Divy%vs. Vor one male and four females, . The; pound of flesh. For three boys. ” Seware of the peddlers. 7 mixed characters Sood words. Fors number A friend. Fora number of littie girls. [FP The above books are sola by Négetienaiws everywhere, ‘Wxeas, on ravsipt of price, 1 ctor, Vor seven ma.es, DIME DIALOGUES, No, 24, ning yeaus, lates, The eix brave men, sinks, The o'A and young. four ladies. That postal card. 3 DIME DIALOGUES, No, 25, e girls. Crabtree’s wocirg, aad one lady. of boys. 0 cents each, aA croored way mete etraight. For six bey. ly Have you heard the news? The trae queen, Two young ofr 4 males, fons: ee pare busy. Ten little fp abe 1 gentlem: ladies oe 7F gest ‘acw’s, both sexes. | Mother Goose and her ho.seboid. even young pttis. | schoul fancy dress digkozue end pau % The regenerators, For five bovs, For a number of girls, Boys will be boys. For two boys and one gi, ay; or, the school-girl philosophers, For three young ladies, 3fevales,1 male. {A bear garden, For three males, Bae females, - Fer two iwales, |The busy bees. For four 1 ttle girls, Ckecknmte. For uumicrous characters, : ne. 2 principal characters and adjuncts Por) Date ead gold. Several characters, mele and fe- \Contound Milles. For three males, two femelea asi The trvs use of wealth, For a whole sehx Ganester. For numerous charactera. Put yourself in his pte. For two hows @ through the elocds, Wor fovr iadies, Little wise heads. For four littn git ~ Several churacterd, Integrity the besis of See: Two West } One genelamay How 60 “dreak in? young i» Two le?*@ Aud Ooo genroinee. or WII! vo went posbpc, 3 6 — “as-eF © ADAMS, Publisbera 9% Wiam Lhe ny us characters, white aidotber — U c 1 1 ! 1 | Che sewing-machine, Not on she vattietie! The Ltalian straggle, Independence, "Yhe equality of man, d, Oar country, sracter of the Revo’n ‘he frais of the war, "True manhood, { Si. suystery of life, | psa ows, uiy great, U...on and its results, Our country’s future, The statesman’s labors, Trae immortality, Let the cbildiess weep, Dar country’s glory, Union a household, Independence bell, The scholar’s dignity, Lhe cycles of progeess, A Christiuas chant, Stability of Christianity, Tho true higher aw, The one great veed, ‘Lhe ship and the bird, DIME PATRIOTIC America to the world, Love of country, Right of self-preserva- Dar cause. {tion,| A Keatuekian’s appe:l, Kentucky steadfast, Timidity is treason, The alarun, April 15th, 1861, Nhe spirit of 761, Yhe preci vus heritage, Klebeyergoss on the war Age blently considered, Early rising, Vhe wasp and the bee, Uomic Cram uar, No. 1. Pim nota single man, A. Ward's advice, Bazfuz on Pickwick, Roineo and Jaliet, iME AMERICAN SPEAKER, No, 1. and ris’g, | Kerly retiring A. Ward’s oration, | Trae nationality, i | Qur natal day, Solferino, Intelligence the basis oll Che war, [liberty, Charge of light brigade,! Alter the baitle, Che glass railroa iase of Mr. Macbeth, Prot, on phrenology, Annabel Lee, Washington’s name, Phe sailor boy’s syren, Teeu:nseh’s speech, Territorial expansion, Martha Hopkins, The bashful man’s stery The matter-of-fact man, Rich and poor, Seeing the eclipse, Beauties of the law, Ge-lang! git up, The rats of lite, Creowning glory of U.S. Three tools, Washington, Our great inheritance, Eulogy on flenry Clay, The Trish element, Train’s speech, Christy’s speech, Let me alone, Brigand-ier General, The draft, Union Square speeches, The Univa, Our country’s call, The story of an oak tree, L-e-g on iy leg, Pop, A Texan Eulogium, How to be a fireinan, The United States, Puff’s acc’t of himself, phrenology, able pecple. n Guctelor like? ‘ppiness, SS) Funny folks, DIME COMIC SPEAKER, No, 4. Great \ives imperishable The prophecy forthe y*4 Untinished problems, Honor to the dead, {Jinmortality of prtriota, | Webster's polit] system Avision in the foci The press, a Woman's rights, ‘in a Just cause,” of the Governed No peace with oppres-|. uider, sion, Woinan, A tale of a mouse, one, ve rebellion of 188i ) J. Jeboom’s oration, A Dutch cure, ather, i naa ie ; Philesophy apphed, Anold ligt Peiny wise, pound fool- ar i { s enjoy | A thanksgiving sermon,| i Lhe cost of riches, Visuniom DIME NATIONAL SPEAKER, No. 2 Murder will out, Strive for the vest, Karly rising, Deeds of kindness. Gotes of sleep, The bugle, A ett i Purity of the strug Old ae, i Beantiful and true, The worm of the stl, | Man and the Infinite Language of the Eugle, Washington, The Deluge. 3. Ohio, Oliver Hazard Perry, Our domain, Systems of belief, The Indian chiet, The independent farmer Mrs, Grammmar’s ball, How the money comes, Future of the f shions, Loyalty to libe Our country first, last, andalways, British infl . Detense of Jackson, National batreds, SPEAKER, No. |History of our flag, Freedorr the watchworé Tes axher’s address,} Crisis of our nation, We ow the Unien, |Duty of Christian pe ) of Stepnen! triots, Turkoy Dan’s oration A fearless plea, ‘The onus of slavery, A foreigner’s tribute, ‘The little Zouwve, ‘| Catholic cathedral, ‘The “ Speculators.” Great Bell Roland, The New Year and the King Uotton, [Uaion, Battle anthem, The ends of peace, A song of woe, Politics) stump sveech, Ward’s trip to Richw’d,| Comic nar, No. % Parody, Farewell to the bottie, The mountebank, The cork leg, 3 Compound interest, The smack i. eshool, Slick’s definition of wife, A sermon on the fect, Tale of a Old dog Jock, The fishes’ toilet, The debating club, Brian O'Linn, A Duteli si by Crockett to office-seekers| Lecture on Sucomotio, Who is my opponent? | Mrs.Cuudle on Unbrd DIME ELOCUTIONIST, No, &. C. I. Prrxerenes or Troe Exunciatron. Fanlts in enuaciation ; how to aveid them. Special rates and observations, toc. I. Tus Arr or “Lis: of ths Passions, ness, Mirth, Raillery, Bi Onatory.—Sheridan’s Tranquillity, Cneerful- uffoonery, Joy, Delivht, Gravity, Inquiry, Attention, Modesty, Per- lexity, Pity, Grief, Melancholy, Despair, ear, Shams. Remorse, Coyrage, Boasting, ride, tinacy, Authority, Commanding, Forbidling, Affirming, Denying, Differen-e, Agtveing,Exhorting, Judging, Approving, Ac- uitting, Condemning, Teaching, Pardoning, ning, Dismissing, Refusing, Granting, De- yendenve, Veneration, Hope Desire, Love, Re- ee Giving, Wonuer, Admiration Gratitude, SEC. II. Tue Component Eruments oF A Oration.—Rules of Cc si applied th Words and Phrase: + , Propriety, Precision. As npplied to Sertences, vizet Length of Sentence,Clearness, Unity, Strength, Figures of Speech; the Exordiu n, the Narra, * tion, the Proposition, the Confirmation, the utation, tha Peroration, i IV. Representative Exercises IN PRosy AND Vensn. 1 A Plea for the Ox, Falstaff's Soliloquy he Burial & Lincoln; the Call and Response ; the Bayoned Charge; History of a Life; the Bugle; the Belis; Byroa; Macbeth and the Dagger; Hamlet’s’ Soliloquy; Old Things ; Look Up- ward; King William Rufus; the Eye; ap Essa onto Musik; Discoveries of Galiieo- cloa'ty, Persuasion, Teinpting, Promisi Affectation, Sloth, on; “Anger, atte SEC, V. Ozsczyations or Goon Dime School Sertes..Speakers. A sad story, Astring of onions, A tragic story, Cats, Courtship, Debt. Devils, Dow, Jr.’s lectures, Ego aud echo, Fasaionable women, Fern thistles, & vod-nature, G ttlied Klebeyeryors, 8. snlichter’s Bivser glow’. opinions & 3 DI The world we sive in, Woman’s claims, Authors of our liberty, The real Song ETRE The citizen’s heritage, Italy, ‘The mechanic, Nature & Natare’s God, The modern good, [sun, Ossian’s address to the Independence bell—1777 John Burns, Gettysburg, No sect in heaven, Miss Prude’s tea-party, Hon.J.M.Stubbs’ views on the situation, Yflans Schwackheimer on woman’s suffrage, All for a nominaticn, Old ocean, sea, The sea,the sea, the open The starbangled spanner Stay where you belong, Life’s what you make it, Where’s ny money? Speeeh from conscience, ‘an’s relation to society The limits to happiness, DIME HUMOROUS SPEAKER, No. 6. How the money goes, Hun-\i-do-ri’s Fourth of} July oration, If you mean no, say no, Jo Bows on leap year, Lay of the henpecked, Lot Skinner’s elegy, Matrimony, Nothing to do, Old Caudle’s umbrella, Old Grimes’s son, “Paddle your own ca- noe,” Parody on_ * Araby’s { daughter,’? The power ot an idea, aoe beneficence of the Sufirage, sea, Disere of the revelers, . HowCyrus laid the cable The prettiest hand, Paradoxical, Little Jerry, the miller, The necks ; Foggy thoughts, |The Iudies’ nae | Life, The idler, ‘The uubeliever, DIME STUMP SPEAKER, No. 8. Good-nature a blessing, Sermon from hard-shell Tail-enders, (Baptist, The value of money, Metgoric disquisition, Be sure you are right, Be of good cheer, Crabbed folks, [shrew, Taming amasculine Farmers, The true greatness of our N.England & the Union, The unseen battle-field, Plea for the Republic, DIME JUVENILE A boy’s philosophy, re out your row, x-year-old’s protest, he suicidal cat, A valediction, Popping corn, The-editor, The same, in rhyme, The fairy shoemaker, What was learned, Press on, The horse, The snake in the grass, Tale of the tr Bromley’s epe The same, secon:! extract The fisher’s child, Shakspearian scholar, Maiden’s psalin of lite, Playing ball, Ah, why, Live for something, Lay of the hen-pecked, The outside dog, Wolf and lamb, Lion in love, Frogs asking for a king, Sick lion, Country and town mice, Man and woman, Home, The Lotus-plaoter, Little things, ~ A Baby’s soliloquy, Repentance, A plea for eges, Humbug patritism, t mixture, Slea for Short legs, {Shrimps on amusemonts)Who killed Tom ME STANDARD SPEAKER, No. {country,]A Night after Chri.tmas, [ee hours, Poetry run mad, Right names, Scientitic lectures, Theuger, . - The cockney, The codfish, Fate of Sergeant Thin, The features’ quarrel, Hamerican voodchuck, The harp of a thousand strings, The last of the sarpints, The march to Moscow, The mysterious guest, the pump, The sea-serpent, The s-cret, The shoemuker, The useful doctor, The waterfall, To the bachelors’ 243g league, United States Presijenw Vagaries of poppin. sx question, What £ wouldn’t U, Yankee docdle Al. dak Ze Moskeetare, 1933. % The Bible, The purse and the Uworé My country, True moral couraye- What is wart Butter, My Deborah Lee, The race, The pin and need‘e, ‘The modern Puriten, Immortality of the soul, Occupation, Hereismn and daring, A shot at the decanter, The two lives, ‘The trae scholar, Judges not infallible; Fanatici=™, [erime, Instability of successful Agriculture, Ireland, [quer, The people always con- ow of labor, | Prussia and Austria, Wishing, |The Blarney stone, The student of Boun, Phe broken houzehyld, Temptations of cities, Broken resolutions, There is no death, Races, A fruitful discourse, A Frenchman's dinner, Unjust national acqui'a The amateur coachmang The cold water man, Permanency of States, Astronomical, Liberty of speech, The moon, !z2n4,)John Thompson’s dan’, Duties of Americuy c.ti-| House-cleaning, The man, It is not your business, America, fallac: pee of waadetun ny \Lite’s sunset, Human nature, Lawyers, Wrongs of the Indians, ep Beet in behalf of Am, series of war, [liberty A Lay Sermon, dream, y SPEAKER, No, 9 Nothing to do, Honesty best policy. Heaven, pie te the ae ‘ashion on the brain, On Shanghais, A smile, Casabianca, How the raven became lack. A mother’s work, The same, Who rules, A sheep story, = A little correspondent, One good turn deserves Mydream, —_[another,| Houceopathic ~_up, Rain, Nose and ey, Ul never use tobacco, | Malt, come, A mosuic, A hundred years The old bachelor, Prayer to light, Little Jim, Angelina’s lament, JohnnyShrimps on boots The madinan’ and hig Little sermons, j zazor- Snuffies on electyizity, The two cradles, The ocean storm, Mercy Do thy little, do ft=wll. ‘ " Little puss, Z Voor Richard's sayings, Base-ball, [fersy iption for *piiy or, ” 2g Sh lerieg ‘bg tla Q, K dai Ore Ben Buster’s oration, Hans Von Spiegel’s sth, Josh Billings’s advice, A hard-shell sermon, The boots, The squeezer, Noah and the devil, A lover’s luck, Hifalutin Adolphus, Digestion and Paradise, Distinetion’s di:advant- Senites, [ Gis.slina Bendibus, 4 cock of novions, Daking ashweat, Then and now, Josh Billings’ leetaring, | Li Doctor DeBlister’s ann’t|/The hog, Consigninents, 5 Hard lives, Dan Bryant’s speech, A colored view, Orivinal Maud Muller, [J Nobody, ages,iTrain of circumstanees.|S Good advice, The itching palm, J Jack Spratt, The ancient bachelor, Jacob Whittle’s speech, A word with Snovks, A mule ride, Dime School Series=Speakers. DIME SPREAD-EAGLE SPEAKER, No. 10. Speaking for the sheriff, |Drum-head sermons, I Selinitzerl’s ph \losopede, Kissing in »he streets Scandalous qushtls, mixed, The office-seeker, Old bachelors, Women, ‘The Niam Niams, People will talk, Swackbanier’s ball, Who wouldn’t be firet, Don’t depend on dadds [zers,|Music of lnbor, © Woman’s rights,’ uke Lather, cland tragedy, erks prognosticates, ut Lovenguod, 1 Trovatere, osh Billings on buz-!The American ensign. DIME DEBSATER AND CHAIRMAN’S GUIDE, Fo, 11. 4. -DEBATING socrery.|Sammary, Its office and usefulness, j111.—CH AIRMAN’S GUIDE formation of, Constitution of, By-Laws of, Rules of government, Loc: rulgs of order, Local rules of debate, Bubjects for discussion. II.--HOW TO DEBATE. Why there are few good debaters, Prerequisites to orator- ical success, The logic of debate, The rhetoric of debate, Maxims to observe, The preliminary pre- mise, Order of argument, DIME EXHIBITICN SPEAKER, NO. Grayelotte, | The orator of the day, he heathen Chinee, ‘The land we love, Jim Bludso, Be to yourself, Ah Sin’s reply, A plea for smiles, The Stanislxus scien- tific s ciety, Free Italy, ‘taly’s alien roler, 2he curse of one man Ye treaty of je treaty ce 1814), ve Gi - POPULAR ORATOR. danny Butte +fly’s ball, Tropics uncongenial to greatness, Live for something, Civil and religious lib erty, Becord review of the grand army, Dishonesty of politics, he great soumener, Character ad achieve- ment, a man when jown, strel, The unlucky lovers, wark, The want of the houy ‘The silent Dime Scheol Series--Speakers. es DIME LUDICROUS SPEAKER, No, 14, Courting, Higher, The closing year, The maniac’s defense, The hen scratches, Ass and the vi-linist, Views of married life, Bachelors and flirts, Job's turkey A hardshel My first knif Der Loddery Dicket, A canni-ballad, KARL PRETZEL’S KOMIXAL SPEAKER, No. 15. Shandal, Dowd been afraid, Gamboling, Indzmberance, Gretchen una me go oud Hope. Das ish vat itish, © Dot musquiter,” Leedle gal-child'sdream Dhere vas no crying, Leedle speedches, Pells, pelis, The puzzled Dutchman, A call to the field, To retailers, War, war to the death, Adjuration to duty, The crusader’s appeal, A boy’s testimony, T have drank my last, The spirit-siren, Rum’s maniac, Woman’s rights, What’s the matter, Mrs. Jones’ pirate, De goose; Touch of the sublime, Blooded Van Snoozie, Blast against tobacco, Silver wedding, Prohebishon, Address to 2 school, His sphere, Translations from Esop, Unlucky, Queer people, Biting one’s nose off, Golden roles, The singwlar man, Fourth of Juiy oration, Cheer up, Self-esteem, Buckwheat eakea, Twain’s little boy, A word with you, A chemicai Inment, The canay-pulling, [Sorrowful tule, |The Loafers? society, It's the early bird, ete., The treachery of Jones,) Music, Don’t call aman a liat, Man. A lecture, Bu’st. A “ dinlect,”?” {On lager beer, \Caudle’s wedding-day, Dot young viddow, Simon Short’s son Sam, |The best cow in peril, Reckermember der poor, |Frequent critters, Natural history views, Thecart before the horse To see ourselves, The evil beast, elp, The hardest lot of all, The curse of rum, The two dogs—a fable, The source of reform, ‘The ram fiend, True law and false, In bad company, Life is what we make it, |The only true nobility, Taste not, (Phe inebriate’s end, THE DIME ELOQUENT SPEAKER, N An ndluration, The ings of business, Purity of speech, Parson Caldwell, Value of reputation, The moral factor, |In for the railrond, jSong of the sink, (Case of young Bangs, DIME YOUTH’S SPEAKER, No, 16, A drunken soliloquy, The work to do, To labor is to pray, The suctessful life, Better than gold, Seed-time and harvest, Invocation to cold water Now, The great lesson to learn The toper’s :ament, God’s liquor, {Anatomical lecture, Walking with the world Minnetunkee, The only safety, Knowledge, Be careful what you say Hand that rocks world,|Stand by the constit’n, Swelling manhood, Summer, Woman’s love, The bricklayers, Words of silver, Drive on! drive on! The tramp, T A true friend, The mocking: bird, The want of the country The value of virtue, She would be a mason, Evils of ignorance, The use of time, ‘he State immortal, |Come down; THE DIME CENTENNIAL SPEAKER, Columbia, Washington, Appeal for liberty, n he: ero, op; ression Patriotism, Green Mountain boys, loynence oF Otis, aygbony, America inust be free, Freedom the only hope, |The Fourth of July, |Warren’s address, A call to liberty, |Good faith, Revolutionary soldiers, Our responsibility, [British barbarity, How freedom is won, }Adains and liberty, jOar duties, Our destiny; Day of disivthrallment,'The American flag, So alternative bat iib’y |The true union, ‘men bellicosum, Sord of Bunker Hill, American ind |The printing press, |The Sabbath, Busy bodies, Anatomical lecture 2, A blow in the dark, ‘The specter caravan, ‘The true saviors, True fame, Something to shun, Plea for Treland, Sinile whene’er youcan, The wood of stars, Sink or swim, The buff and blue, The union, The mart r spy, Lexingt n, Our «nly hope, Decl ot In ‘ep’e, Ths liberty bell, What wa sre, Our great trust, God bless our Statea, Looking backward, Washington & Franklin Liberty and union, ~ Marion and his men, Contentment, Ou courting, On laughing, The taine: boy, On wimmen’s rights, Tho healer, TLe criininal lawye, Pallad of Matilda Janz Water, The ballad of a Gcod for somethin A moving sermon. The Illinois Aasembip The cannibal maa, Boss Bagshaw, t a soldier, My childhood, Schneider's ride, suffrage, Gardening, He vas dhinkin’, Abner Jones’ testinsony, By amoney chaoger’s. Value cf life work, “ Accept the situation? Died et whisky, A story with a aaoral, Breukers ahead, Ichabod Sly, Effects «f intemperanos, The whiaky why is it, Local option, Be guod to the body, Worth makes the waz. 001i. A thought, The housemaid, The goblin cat, Aristocrats, The knightly newsboy, A call to vote, The modern trand, Ruvuing tor legislature ‘To a young man, Heads, The new dispensation, Washicgion’s attributes Turning the griudstene, Short sermon. Yo. 18, 3 Anoble plea, Ori, inal Y; Wo 'fe’s address, Watchi_ g for Montg’y, io: al ensign, Repeal! repeal! The true hero, Old Ironsides, Our gilts to ET Uncle Sam’s a hun | Centennial orations PUME SCA60L SERIES.—Speakers. een gait DIME SERiIO-COMIC SPEAKER, No. 19. The American phaianx,|Sour grapes, ~ The unwritten ‘Claws,’ Squash, Smart s/s opraion, vew version, |The vut.oragcs Worm, 2, night express, \Corms, SDs jtish, peatly, stad weataer,| Judge not thy brother, [Not so easy, |Dewil beat in. politica, |War and dueling. he knot, Horses. 2 motest, |The dog St. Bi |The liberal boy’s upinion of eur, Yawsot Strauss, |‘Tine me 'Strike thr jGood alone are great, An agricultoral ad:tress,| Excelsior ess, The g apuleon, |The new scriptures, jPaddy’s versic: of ef Yaweobd Hotleltegobble.| The two lives, |The trow.bone, }_-celsior f- ire setting sac.em, | The present age | Don’t deapond, |The close. re 4 ‘{ reat Ws areieyat midnight, [The mill cannot gvind,/Apples a 7 ¢3 to young Indiew,| GQood-night, \What hecame of a lie, K £ itsle big man, Truth, |Now and then, Jan, yeuerically -» test of friendship, {The fanny man, |How ub vos dt for ‘afyt| sidered, Une orice of pleasure, |The sittlo orator, Warly rizing, \A chemical wedites, DIME SELECT SPEAKER, Nx. 20, God, |Penalty of selfishness, )Now is the time, Won't we let wry nape Bave the Republic, {Lights Out, Exhortation to patriots,} work Watches of .he night, (Clothes don’t make the}He is everywhere, Conscience the bea The closing yexry” mai, A dream of darkness, guide, Wro.g and right road, |The lust man, Religion the keystone, | Who to honor, An enemy to society, | Mind yourown buslness/Scorn of office, The lords of labea Barbara Freitchie, |My Fourth ot July seu-|Who are the tree? Early rising, Fhe most precious gift, | __timents, he city on the hill, Pumpernickel and Pep Eutellectual and moral My Esquimanx friend, |How to save the Re-| — schikoff, power, \Story of the little ridhin | public, Only a tramp, Thanatopsis, |My castle in Spain, The good old times, Cage them, ew era o% labor Shonny Schwartz, Monmouth, Time’s soliloquy, Work of frith, |The Indian’s wrongs, Hop, f Find a way or make iy dream. | Address to youn; men, | Meval Desolation, | The musquito hunt, wa dame Aux camelias, ; Beautiful Snew, Selfevident truths, 1 The hero. DIME FUNNY SPEAKER, No. 21. Colon} Sellers “luci-|One hundred years ago,|The new mytholegy Joan of Arc, dates, De’sperience ob de Reb-|_ (Vulean,) \2 he blessings of farm Clory “nit ter Sthars} ’rend Quack» Stroug, |The new mythology! life, nnd S-pripes, A dollar or two, (Pan,) iThe people, Terence O’Da~+"s pat-|On some more hash, The new mythology! Thermopylae, rietism |Wher- Aoney is ki (Bacchus,) Cc: 1" 1 line-kil™ sub ora-| Professor Dake, Thin nod trink to-nighd,. Jin Bludso; or, th OD, man on thy origla of|Lhe new churel se) Proirie Belle, mer Therabush on| lite, t |A catastrophic ditty, Ca fools, |Konsentrated wisdum, |Wilyum’s watermillion,|The maniac’s defense, The f-idiler, Joseph Brown and the}Josish Axteli’s oration, Wonan, God bl-es ker. Ths regalar cerson, } mimee pie. Parson Buarebones’s an-| Be miserable, Theschool-bev’s lament, John Jepkins’s sermon, | athema, Dodds versus Danb., Dot baby off mine, {A parody on “Tell me|Ceesar Squash on heat, |The Ca judgirent, Bluggs once more, } ye winged winds,” Fritz Valdher is made 2,'Foas cals Yiervs ou agriculture, {A logy day, MSO. r " ir, 4 DIME JOLLY £PEAKER, NO. 22, Erandfather’s clock, The delights of Spring, |A weak ease, A new éeclaa , ithe XIXth century, Josh Billings’s views, }They may be happy yet independence, Mary’s von little ram, Beasteses, Orpheus, A side vF-w,| The jolly old feliows & familiar lecturo on! How tew pik ovt a,P. A “classi 7? | Christmas v elcome, science, we’ erm! lo: vation, My first coat, Did and ne ; time, How tow pik outa dog! The funny man, The fire ade. Playfoot’ss pivit race, How tew pik ont akec| Don’t give tt away, lA patriotic “ splarga” The villas chor, How tew pik out ayA dark warning. A;The gooc old timea, ia A sermon fs the sisters, wife, “colored”? dissertation] deed! 4 cong atul. De filosofy 2 for, This side and that, An awtut An]. tory rem ander, 2 Visappointer di-overer, | Nocturnal :aewsings, votive ay \Stenliug the sacred fing A heathen’? scor, The lunacic’s reveric¢, | De parson sow. seed} The storv of Py Der dog uid der lobster,| A bathetic baliad, P. mpey’s Thanksgiv ing} theus modernized, Lhe young ’ aur), The oar, turkey, |The owl and the 5 | ? |The Delights of #e 1 tason, |Backbone, The new essay on man,! cat. 5 The above books are sold uy Newsdeaiers everywnere, @ wi be sant pont Sidress, on rec int of price, 10 cents each. . : 5 Ant po ne BEADLE & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William Si. HW. Y DIME SCHOOL SERIES.—‘peakers and Dialogues. DIME DIALECT SPEAKER, No, 23, Dat’s wat’s de matter, |All about a bee, ‘The Miss.esippi miracle, |Scandal, Ven te tide eooms in, A dark side view, Dose lams vot Mary ha{|‘Te pesser vay, foe On Jearning German, Pat O'Flaherty on wo-|Mary’s shinai! man’s riglits A healthy discourse, The home rulers, how} Tobias so to speak, they “ spakes,’ 0 ld Mrs. Grimes, Hezekiah Dawson on} s parody, Mothers-in-law, Mars and eats, He didn’t sell the farm,| 3ill Underwood, pilot, The true story of Frank-|ld Granley, lin’s kite, The pill peddler’s ora- I would I were a boy} tion, again, Vidder A pathetic story, words, Green’s last. vite lamb} {Dundreary’s wisdom, {Latest Chinese outrage,!My neighbor's dogs, The manilest destiny vi)Condensed Mythology, the Irishman, Picts, Peggy McCann, ‘The Nereides, |Sprays from Josh Bil | Legends ef Attica, lings, he stove-pipe tragedy De circumstances ob de) A doketor’s drubbles, sitiwation, The coming man, Dar’s nuflin new under|The illigant afiair at de sun, Muldoon’s, A Negro religious poem,|That little baby round {That violin, * the corner, |Picuie delights, A genewine inference, |Our cxndidate’s views, |An- invitati-n to the bird of liberty, The crow, Out west. Plain language by truth- ful Jane, DIME DIALOGUES No. 26, Poor cousins. Three ladies and two gentlemen. | Mountains and mole-hills. Six ladies and several | spectators. A test that didnot fail. Six bors, ‘Two ways of seeing things. Two little girls. Don’t count your chickens before they are hatched. Four ladies and a boy. All is fxiria love and war. 3 ladies, 2 gentlemen. How uncle Josh got rid f the legacy. Two males, with several transfyrmations. DIME DIALO For three males Patsey O’Dowd’s campaign. and one femule. pesly inferences not always just. Numerous 3. ies tented Annie. For several girls. A double surprise. Four males and one femule. What was it? For five Indies. ‘What will cure them! For a lady and two boys. Independent, For. numerous characters. Each season the best. For four boys. Tried and found wanting.” For several males. A boy’s plot. For several characters. The lesson of mercy. Two very small girls. Practice what you preach. Four ladies, Politician. Numerous characters. The canvassing agent. ‘Two males and two females, Grub. Two males. A sight scare. Three females and one male, Embodi.d sunshine. Three young ladies. How Jim Peters died. Two males. GUES No. 27. The street girl’s good angel. For two ladies and two little girls. “That ungrateful Mbtle nigger? For two males. If L had the: money, For three little girls. Appearances are deceitful. For several ladies aud one gentleman. Love's protest. For two little girls. An enlorced cure, For several characters. Those who preach and those who perform, For three males. A gentle conquest. For two young girls. {28 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 & ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William St., N. ¥. | PRICE, TEN CENTS. THE DIME SPEAKERS AND DIALGGUES, THE MOST ATTRACTIVE SERIES, Most Available, Adaptive and Taking Collections —or— Declamations, Farces, Recitations, ‘Notable Passages, Dialogues, Minor Dramas, Speeches, Extempore Efforts, “Corioquies, Acting Charades, Orations, Addresses, Burlesques, Dress Pieces, IN ALL THE FIELDS OF Wit, Humor, Burlesque, Satire, Eloquence and Argument, » SCHOOL EXHIBITIONS AND. HOME ENTERTAINMENTS. THE DIME SPEAKERS. 1—Dimr AMERICAN SPEAKER. | 12—Diwe Exuipirron Speaker. 2—Dime NATIONAL SPEARER, 13—Dime ScHoot SPEAKER. 3—Dime PATRIOTIC SPRARER. |. 144—Dime Lupicrovs SPEAKER. 4—Drige Comic SPEAKER, 15—CarRL PRETZEL’S KoMIKAL SPEAKER, 5—Dime ELocurTIonist. | 16—DimMe Yourn’s Speaker. 6—Dime HuMOROUS SPEAKER. 17—Dime ELoOQUENT SPEAKER. 7—DIME STANDARD SPEAKER, 18—Dime Hain Cotvmsra SPRAKER 8—Dive Srump SPEAKER. '~ 19—Dime Srerio-Comic SPEAKER. 9—DiE JUVENILE SPEAKER. 20—Dime SELECT SPEAKER. 10—Diwe SpREAD-EAGLe SPEAKER. 21—Dime Funny SrEAKER, 11—Dime Depater & CHAIRMAN’s GUIDE 22—Dime JouLY SPEAKER. 23—Dime Diauect Speaker, (Negro, Dutch, Irish, Yankee.) Each Speaker, 100 pages 12mo., containing from 50 to 75 pices. 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, ccqquinite 1 ‘hess and exhibition 1 dramas than any collection ever offered at any price. Dme DraLogurs NuMBER ONR. Dime DisLoavEs NuMBER ForTEEN, Dime DiALoaGues NumBer Two. Dime DiaLtoaues NUMBER SIXTEEN. Dive DiALogves NuMBER THREE. Dime DiaLogves NuMBER SEVENTERY Eat Dime DraLocuEes NumBer Four. tle Folks, Dive DiaLocues Numeer Five. | Dime DtaLoaugs NuMBER EIGHTEEN Dive DraLoeues NumsBer Srx. Dime Drarogues NuMBer NiNETEEN, Dre Dratoaves Numerr SEVEN. Dre DraLoaues NumpBer TWENTY. Diwe Dratoaves Nomeer Eicut. Dink DIALOGUES INUMBER TWENTY-ONE. Dme Diatocues Numsrr Nive. Dime Dratogurs NuMBER TWENTY-TWe. Die Diatosues Noumper TEN. Dime DisLogues NuMBER TWENTY TS Dive Diatoauns NuMBER ELEVEN. Dime DraLtoaues NuMBER TWENTY-F Dime DiaLosucs NuMBER TWELVE. Dime DraLocues -NuMBER TWENTY-I'fy Dime DiaLoaurs NuMBER THIRTEEN. | Dime DiaLoaues Numper TwEnty-s Dime Dratoaues Numser Fourteen | Dime Dratocuus Numper TWEnTy-s EVEN 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, we William m Bt aw York,