ao
NEW YORK

General Dime Book Publishers,

,

98 WILLIAM ST.

’

IALOGUES No

D

BEADLE AND ADAMS

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 
 

JUST PUBLISHED!

[he Dime Dialogues, No. 41.

THE HAPPY TERMINATION; or, A Lunatic ABroap. A Case of Mis
taken Identity. For three males, three females and two policemen,
By H. Elliott McBride.

THE TELL-TALE TELEGRAM; or, AN IMPRESSIONABLE WoMAN, A
Domestic Misunderstanding. *For one male and one female. By Mis,
B. St. John,

TOO MANY SMITHS; or, Taz Muce Wantep Letter. A Village Event.
For eight males and three females. by S. Jennie Smith,

THE THIRTEEN ORIGINAL STATES A Scenic, Dress and Stage Pro
cession Drama. For fourteen young ladies. By Prof. J. W. Harvey.

THE AGENT AND me VICTIM, AikEvery Day Due’. Fur two
males. By A. W. I

PLAYING THE iia or, THe Easy Roap to Rum. A Lesson In
Race Track Morals, For three males, By E. A, Thatcher.

A VISIT TO THE MOON. For two little girls. By Stella Prince.

THE NEW SCHOOL FOR SCANDAL: cr, THE Uproar In SHAntyY-
town. An All around Gossip Club. For ‘one male and five females.
By the O’Dowd Troupe.

LIME KILN CLUB LOGIC; or, Toe ArcuMENTUM AD Hominem. Fora
number of “Colored Persons.” Elabora ed from the ‘‘ Lime Kiln
Ciub” Proceedings.

BREAKING IN THE DOMINIE; or, Way tHE Boys Dion’t Har THEIR
Feast, An Academy Haz:. For a teacher and a number of boys.
By Sam C. King.

WATCHING FOR SANTA CLAUS A Night Betore Christmas Ad-
venture. For five children, By Mrs. A. D. Lyon.

ONE OF THE DAUGHTERS OF iHE NEW DISPENSATION. A
Modern Exemplification. For two males and one female. By
C. D. Morris.

THE HIGHEST DUTY OF ALL; or, Toe Test Tuat Tetrs. An Epi-
sode of Hard Times. For five females. By Anna G. Somers,

A DOUBLE SURPRISE FOR THE SCOOPERS; or, Uncim Brn’s
Rewarp. A Hilarious “At Home” Affair. For five males and five
females. By H. Eiliott McBride,

THE STARS’ CONTENTION; or, Peacnon Eartu, Goop Witt To Men.
A Dress and Scenic Piece for girls. By Mrs. S. H. Ashraun.

THE MODEL EX :MINATION; or, Tue Way Nor to Conpvuct 4
ScHoon An Illustration of Backwoods Education, Fura school.
By D. A.Brubaker,

aaa oe *MELLICAM MAN An En-character Monologue. By

SCREEN DOORS; or, Krrry Murroon’s Disaster. A Domestic Ap-
parition. For two males and one female. By Mrs. M. L. Lee.

For sale by all newsdealers, or sent, post-paid, on receipt of price, ten
cents.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers,
98 William St,, New York.

  

   

er See

 
THE DIME

DIALOGUES NO. 23.

FRESH, ORIGINAL AND SPECIALLY PREPARED

SCHOOL, EXHIBITION AND PARLOR PIECES

*

2 R
FOR SCHOLARS AND CHARACTERS OF ALL GRADES,

LAUGHABLE, HUMOROUS, EFFECTIVE
AND STRIKING.

READILY ADAPTED TO ALL STAGES, WITH EASY ,
ACCESSORIES, INEXPENSIVE COSTUMES AND
BUT LITTLE STAGH FURNITURE.

NEW YORK:
_BRADLE AND ADAMS, PUBLISHERS,
98 WILLIAM STREET. ee

co

 
 

CONTENTS.

 

   

 
  
  
     
   
   
   
       
       
     
        
        
     
       
       
       
       
 

 

PAGE,
Ruopa Hunt’s Remepy. A Domestic “ pon es genre iid three fe-
males and one male. By Dr. Louis Legrand. iis fen ae $
Hans Scumipt’s RE ee An Active Colloquy. For two —:
iy: Orange: Lemon, Phe D., iy.) oo. gegen alaen Sala ote pete “14
eo CHEERY AND ee A \ Rhymed Dect. For ee —- By
ae Rose Kennedy... ad 17
Toe PHantom Doveunuts. A ta Doaseatis picgtd For six
By semales.. By Frank 8. Fig. )3 cs. 2 nsishsoaeei wares: Pens s Shaws 19
‘i Dozs 1r Pay? ‘* Base-ball” Pee ane a moral. For six
es males, By Major Wagstaff... «in eeuies
ee Company MANNERS AND HoME IMPOLITENESS. A Society ata: For
meee two males, two females and two children. By Miss Grace Grafton 30
Tur Guap Days. A New Year Greeting. For two little boys. By
ARuEP DORIC SS 96s coe cn cg pee Re a ee cath «oes sees ie eee a7
UNFORTUNATE Mr. Brown. A Dramatic Predicament. ae one male
and six females. By Miss Lillian Victor............... 38
Tur Rea Cost. A Home Lesson. For two girls. By Cousin Alice, 44
_A Bear Garpren. A Dramatic Morality. For three males and two
teniales.” By Cians i) Maen <7 is, 65.3. tay gs - gst seep oe paving 47
‘Tue Busy BrEs. For four little girls. By Miss Minnie Coleman.... 51
 Cueckmatr. An Acting Charade and Parlor Exbibition Drama. For
“- numerous characters. By S. Annie Frost... ...............fs005 52
Scuoor-Time. For two little girls. By Miss Nellie Homan.. ........ 62

Deats Scene. From Dr. Faustus, <A celebrated scene for high dra-
matic effort. For two princip:1 characters and severaladjuncts. 64 ‘

Dross anp Gotp. A Country-Life and Home Scene. For several
characters, male and female. By author of ‘* California Uncle,”

      
   

“Mrs. Jonas Jones," “The Wrong Man,” etc., etc...... .:..++.++ 68
Conrounp Miter. AWramatic Joke. For three males and two fe-
Mielod-“By. Miss Hy Sx Sperryens ss cone ed « ees tele sole ke anatie tase (2
IGNORANCE vs. Justice, A School Scene. For eleven males. By
‘Frank H. Grits oii. eck BO rt ai nn ode ae gai Se ee
 Pepants Au, A Stage Episode. For four males,..... ....esssee00+ 87

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by
.. BEADLE AND ADAMS, ;
In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington,

Wha
 

 

 

THE DIM

DIALOGUES Mo. 23

RHODA HUNT’S REMEDY.
FOR THREE FEMALES AND ONE MALE.
(Enter Mrs. Kina, appearing vexed.) {

Mrs. K. It is too bad! Here is my porcelain kettle gone,
just when I want it, and no one to send for it. It was bor-
rowed—let me see, three weeks ago yesterday—and I’m cer-
tain has gone the rounds of the whole neighborhood. I
never did see such a set of people to borrow as these rela
tives of John are. Why, they seem to think that, because
I am a young housekeeper, and have everything new and
nice, and have married their cousin John, uncle John, bre
ther John, nephew John, they have a perfect right to call
upon me for everything I have, and I dare not refuse, for,
what would they say? And John, too, would feel hurt ta.
refusé his relatives; but, something must be done, that is
certain. I can’t and won’t stand this incessant borrowing.
Rhoda! (Hnter Ruopa.) Do you know just where my per
~celain kettle is now? |

R. Wall, naow, can’t jist say, but guesses its. over te.
yer cousin Sam’s. They is to make up thar quinces thi
week, an’ have bin waitin’ a week fer t’others tew git through
usin’ the kittle, an’ ‘his week it’s their turn at it, so I gure
it’s thar i

Mrs. K, What can Ido? I need it to-day.

R. Do? Why, Til jist trot out an’ git it.

Mrs. K. Perhaps it will discommode Mrs. Sam?

 

 

 

  

R. Well, let it. It’s yer own property. Ef they wants —

mt kittle bad, an’ ar’ richer’n half the folks in town, I guess it

  
  
 
  

 
 

BIEL RD ie eae

10 THE DIME DIALOGUES.
won’t make ’em sick tew go an’ buy a kittle ov thar own.
I'll go an’ brung it home, an’ some other things, too, thet’s
been gone more’n a month. (Zzit.)

Mrs. K. It will provoke Mrs. Sam, I fear; and her
“another is there, and it will give her occasion to say some:
thing spiteful, as she has done already about me, becanse J
am what she calls ‘‘a city gal.” It is so hard to get along
with these pe» .e. Every one criticises John’s wife, ant
not a day passex but something is said or done to annoy me
Sits.) I’m sure if I had known all beforehand, that, as wel:
as I love John, I would not have married him to come to—

(Enter Joun.)

J. What is it, Susy? You seem troubled.

Mrs. K. Oh, John, I am troubled. My life here among
your relatives is very unpleasant. Every one seems to think
it his or her business to pry into my affairs; to criticise
what I say and do; to know where every dollar goes that we
spend; to inspect and pass upon every article of dress I have;
to discuss my theological views, and make it their special
privilege to ‘‘convart” me, and make me Baptist, Methodist,
Presbyterian or Covenanter; and, finally, they are literally
borrowing us out of house and home.

J. Whew! What a dismal prospect! Why, Susy, don’t
you think you are too sensitive to let such things worry you?

Td laugh at them, if I were you!

Mrs. K. That might be the man of it, but it is not the
woman of it. Men never seem to comprehend the faet that
little annoyances, repeated over and over again—that a con-
stant strain on the patience, nervei and feelings—that daily
contact with ignorance, envy and impertinence—will make
he most forgiving woman wretched. You are good, and

ind, and provident, John, but. you do not realize that even
gour kindness cannot correct or avert the ills I speak of

J Well, Susy, perhaps I am inclined to attach too little
importance to such annoyances, but I can’t help feeling that
you give them too much weight. You are too sensitive—
too little inclined to fight your way, as it were—not inde
pendent enough. That’s my way of thinking. (Hnbr
Ruopa, loaded down with pots, pans, broom, rolling-pin, spide:
end various packages, which she flings down on the floor.) Ble

 

 

  
   
 

RHODA HUNT'S REMEDY. 13

 

, we, Rhoda, what does all this mean? Have you turned
peddler?

R. Not much! Them’s what yer folks took out’n this

house, bright, clean and new, an’ now look at ’em! Not one
but is ruined. An’ yer nice porcelain \kittle, Mrs. King,
Mrs. Sam’s mother says she won’t let ye hev ’til she is done
with it. She says it’s small business fer you to send fer a
¥ittle thet’s all schorched an’ cracked. An’ when I told her
hat kittle was bran’ new wher. it left yer house, three weeks
-goO, she jist up an’ sed it must ’a’ bin a Oheap John kittle
w'en it wor bought. An’ these other things—jest look at
‘em! (Holds up two old tin-pans.) Them’s the new pans ye
lent Mrs. Ben, only a week ago; she’s burnt ’em up by bakin’
cake in ’em, instead ov usin’ her own pans. Look at this.
(Holds up broom, all worn out.) That’s what Aunt Jim bor-
red, weeks ago, an’ never thought of returnin’. An’ this!
(Holds up ragged shawl.) Do ye know it?

Mrs. K. (Hxamining it.) Why, it’s my light shawl that
Lizzie borrowed to wear to the camp-meeting, two weeks
ago. :

R. Jist so; an’ I found the children playin’ tent with it,
out in the yard; an’ when I tuk it, the mother, Mrs. Isaac,
sed I was in small bisness a-takin’ home sich a rag. An’ this
—do you reckernize it? (Holds up ragged skirt.)

Mrs. K. (Heamining it.) Why, it’s my brown merino
(or whatever material it is) skirt-—or what is left of it. Oh,
dear! I lent it more than a month ago to Aunt Hez. She
wore it to visit the church fair. Then she let her daughter

Betsy have it to visit her school-mate in Spinklerborough.

I want it ever so much, but now it is utterly ruined.

R. Am when I sed so, Aunt Hez, she up an’ sez it was

an old second-hand affair in the fust place—that some ov yet
eity friends had gin it to ye arter they was.tired ov it.

Mrs. K. It was wholly new when I lent it—a present
from my dear mother. But what are all these packages?

R. Waull, ye see, I’ve jist kept ‘count ov the coffee, an’:

tea, an’ sugar, an’ soap, an’ candles, an’ blackin’, an’ castor-
oil, an’ pills, an’ books, an’ whitewash brushes, an’ saws, an’
shovels, an’ things as each on the relatives has had, an’ it’s
jist enough to start a first-class store; so I’ve commenced #

~

    
 

 

 
      
   
   
 
 
    
  
 
 
   
    
  
   
     
   
   
   
         
     
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   

1h THE DIME DIALOGUES.

. demrana *em all back ag’in, an’ here be some on’em. My’
sakes, Dut won't vhar be a yowlin’ before I git all back ag’in\
You'll be the most onpop’lar woman in the county, Missis i
King; but, unless you say “‘ stop!” every blessed one on ’em
shall gin back whatever is borrowed, or my name ain’t Rhoda
Hunt.

Mrs. K. What snail she do, John?

J. Go ahead, Rhoda, aud give the whole lot of my rel
ives your general views of borrowers and my particula
«pinion—which is, that 1t 1s as mean to borrow and not. re-
turn promptly, in good order, as it is to steal, Say it right
out, as coming from me. Sveai is the word to use.

R. That’s the talk! Now thar a man sez it, itll be the r.
eend ov this eternal spongin’ off’n ye, but, if Mrs. King had
sed it, oh, but wouldn’t she catch iu! I guess so! As ’tis,
she’s jist rasped by every one on ’em ter bein’ stuck up, an’
too nice fer common folks; an’ every day [ am all riled up
answerin’ on ’em back fer the’r mean envy an’ spite. It’s
high time, ef ye want yer wife’s happiness an’ character de eee
fended, fer ye to take a hand in. She’s been tov good an’

obligin’; they’ve jist run over her; an’ now, not satisfied with E
bleedin’ on her ov things to eat, wear an’ use, they’ve commenc-
ed to let on that she warn’t very much whar she come from.
I’ve kept it all tew myself, Mister King; but it’s time ye
know’d it, I think.

(Noise outside. Hnter Mrs. fice: with porcelain kettle, which
looks much the worse for wear.)

Mrs. 8. Here’s yer kittle, Sue. It’s tew bad fer ye tew

_~ jend sich a thing. It’s jist burned my quinces an’ spoiled

‘em, an’ I think the least you/can do is tew send right awa

fer a new kittle, an’ if you'll send Rhoda over with it a ~

soon as it comes, we'll say nothing about the ruin ov m

quinces.

J. Well, Mrs, Sam, we've céngladed tc go out of the
‘ending business, so I guess you'll have to buy your own~
porcelain kettles, and all other articles you’ve sponged off of *
my wife for a year.

Mrs. 8. . Sponged off’n your wife? If that isn’t a purty
thing fer an own blood relative to say! Oh, dear, what ap
on¢hristian Spiriel ; aa Sepeipae

 
 

ment, sha’n’t be without doin’ a heap to make ’em all appre;

“atives, or I miss my guess; an’ don’t you nor Mrs. King giva —
- yourselves the least trouble about it, either. Jist let meruu |

_ people will treat her more respectful than they ever did any-

    
 

Cees wat . ye! 3 a s i ee Pe ie

RHODA HUNT’S REMEDY. 18

‘
R. Well, I’m not a blood relative, an’ I’lsay naow, ye
ar’ the meanest, peskiest set ov borrowers an’ back-biters
this side ov Spain. Look at them things thar! All wa
bran’ span new one year ago; an’ every one on ’em has been
ruined by blood relatives, Ef I had my way, I'd sue ye all fei :
damages or I’d break what ye’ve ruined over yer heads—-s¢ “
1 would! f

Mrs. 8. Oh, did I ever see sich imperence! You huzzy
o dare to talk to me in sich a way! Ef John’s half a mas
ne’ll tell you to git at once.

J. Oh, yes; I'll tell Rhoda to ‘‘ git!” Rhoda, you “ git” -
al] these things together—put them in a pile in the front
yard where everybody will see them, and I will label them.
‘* BORROWERS’ MONUMENT.”

R. An’ I'll git all the blood relatives to come an’ view

 

the remains, with Mrs. Sam fer pall-bearer; so, take ’em up a
tenderly, lift ’em with care; handle’em gingerly—everything
there. 3

Mrs. 8. You sassy thing! How dare you! ee

R. (Stooping, picks up a lot of pans, brushes, ete., which have
been tied together with one string, and flings them over Mrs. Sam’s
shoulder.) There; now git/ (Shoves Mrs, Sam out of door,
or behind side screen, Mrs. Sam gesticulating wildly.) Oh, I
know you feel dad, but it’s got tew be did.

Mrs. 8S. (Outside. Great noise with pans, ete.) Oh! oh!
But P’ll make Rhoda Hunt rue this!

R. Will you? (Puts head out of door, or behind screen, and :
shouts): Good-by, Mrs. Sam! Go an’ tell the rest on ’em, ¥
an’ come again when it’s convenient. (Returns Thar, :
Mr. King, you won’t be bothered any more with s.ood re —

 

 
   
  
 

this house for the next month, an’ Pll guarantee Mrs, King’ui
have no more troublé with borrowers, au’ every on ov these

 
 
 

body of the King name. ‘Your comin’ here, among ‘em,
Mrs. King, with your nice ways, an’ intelligence, an’ refine

 
 

      

clate sich things. You’ve been too easy on ’em—too sub —
missive, like—too condescendin’, as if ye war afraid on ’ema —
   
  
  
  
  
   
   
  
  
   
   
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
   
    
     
   
     
    
 

THE DIME DIALOGUES.

 

rhat’s jist the way not to do with sich folks.. Now they’
git thar dander up, of course, but it'll soon blow out, an’ the
more they talk the more they’ll see how mean they have

» been; so ye jist be composed, an’ if, in less’n a year, ye aint
the lady ov this village, you may writ? Rhoda Hunt down —
fur a fust-class fool.

a. Which you are as far from being as my blood rela-
ives are from being wise. You area born general, Rhoda
snd we'll fight it out on this line if it takes all summer—-eh.

R.  Sartinly we will!

. J. Then here’s my hand on it. (Gives Ruova right hand )

Mrs. K. And mine. (Clasps Ruopa’s left hand.)

Aut. Ha—ha—ha! (Curtain falls.)

 

HANS SCHMIDT’S RECOMMEND.
FOR TWO MALES, ;
(Enter Hans, in some excitement.) =

Hans. Oh, goot Lort, vot is dis? Icoomes py dis house

mit a goot baper as never vas, vat says, ‘‘ Hans Schmidt’sh

peen sax months mit te pusiness, und is goot mans apovt

_ eferydiugs—putler, groom, waiter, doorman und porter.” So
{ shows him, und te laties she goes avay, mit a schmile; — :
und te odder mans he schmiles mit a laugh, und goes avay; =
I gits mad, mooch; und ven te niggar, he says, ‘‘ Dutchy, E
~ you git! das riggar he goes mit der floor, gwick. Oh, goot
Lort, vot is dis, vy I pe dreated like a dramp? (Hnter Teppy.)
fla! how you vas? Pooty goot dimes mit you, eh, py te
‘wages six tollers a veek, eh, und no questions enoled mit you?
Trp. Arrah, an’ be me sow] who be you? an’ whered’ye —_—
ome from? an’ what is it ye ar’ here for? an’ anything ilse~ j
sbat’s interesting. (Walks around Hans, scrutinizing, him.) 4
Hans Eh, you don’t know noboty? I pe Hans Schmidt — |
von der Olbershaussen. I coomes py te goot family foom y
_ Sharmany, und speags goot English, und ’spects I haf blace
und do somedings py tis house, und haf peen married mit
de bastor nefer; das pe no goot if I haf von vife und shil-
drens und motter py te law. So I hof goot, very goot re

¢ommend, und pe py te age swansy-swi years.

Tep. The divil ye ar’! An’ what have ye got to shor

 

 
 
    

     
 

 

 

HANS SCHMIDT'S RECOMMEND. 18
for it? Yo ‘ook more like a graduate ov a stable, ora tinder
to a militia gineral.

Hans. Nien—nix! You pe no sharp mit te eyes. Hans
Schmidt pe a house-servant schoost so goot as somepody’s
vot hasn’t peen py te service sax years. You read, eh?

Tip. Rade? D’ye take me for a haythen, ye spalpeen?
Ov coorse I rades, an’ bad ’cess to ye for thinkin’ itherwise

Hans. So! .Das is goot. Vell, den, you see dis bape |

YJolds up strip of paper.) R

Tep. Oveccorse I do. D’ye think I’m blind, ye je
scindent ov an ape? Will ye be afther axin’ me if I’m dafe
an’ dumb? or if I iver ate cats an’ rats for my dinner? Be
jabers, I’m sorry the tail ov me coat isn’t on the floor, so’t
ye could thrid on it, for I'd loike a whack at ye. \

Hans. So! You pees mat? Das is no goot ven de
b’liceman sthands py te gorner mit a club.

Trp, Aroo! An’ what d’ye mane, ye bla’guard?

Hans. Nix—nein! You pe too gwick mit te mat. I
coomes mit you for a frient, und dimks you pe a shentlemans
in te service of von odder shentlemans, eh?

Txpv.' Now yer sp’akin’! Of coorse I be! An’ what is it
I can do for ye, now say? Spit it out loike a man!

Hans. (Hands paper.) You reads das? — ;

Trp. Arrah, ye haythen, an’ do ye suppose I can read
high Dutch?

Hans. No Dutch! Ye haf to be gareful, or I schlocks
ye mit te coph. (Shows signs of anger.)

TED. Whoop! <An’Im yer b’y! It’s me arums that’s
been achin’ for a bastin’, an’ a Dutchman’ll do if a white
man can’t be had. (Dances around Hans, swinging arma
Hans suddenly dashes out and trips him Trp falls spraw¥ag

nd Hans sits on him.)

Hays. I gifs you von advice. Pe 1 some Dootchman?

Trev. Divil a Dutchman! Yer a genilemin’s son; yer

mother was a grand Duchess, an’ yer father a Prince ov Bo-

hemia.
Hans. Yau des is sont Now I makes some more
gwestions. You runs mit tis house, eh?

Tev. Runs mit tis house? Why, you son of dunder and “

biitzen, what do you take me for?

 

- Bays You pe von Spee. as never vas, eb? You ; =

    
 

v

   
   
     
  
   
   
     
       
         
   
  
  
    
   
   
 
     
 
    
 
  
 
 
    
 

THE DIME DIALOGUES.

dov’d pe schmost so much as makes a waiter, eh? You is
te borter mit tis house, eh? ¥ i

TED. Ov coorse I’m the porter. Now what d’ye want
an’ what J’ye mane by squattin’ here?

Hans Schoost so. Does you read mit tis baper now?

Tp. Oh, yes; I'll read Choctaw if ye say so. Let me
sp, and it’s rade the writin’ I will, an’ be glad to recommind
ye for a p’liceman. .

Hans. (fising.) Das is gorrect. Now read dis goot re: ;
commend I haf, und gife me te ear foon your master, so as I 4
pecomes von servant mit you hire. (Hands paper.) }

Trp. (feads slowly.) ‘‘ This is to certify that the bearer,
Hans Schmidt, is an accomplished lubber when he acts as
butler, groom, waiter, doorman or porter, and I recommend
him to all who want such help as a gcod man to hire to go
away.—BeENJAMIN THompson.” (Laughs.) Be the bones ov
me grandmother’s praste but ye’ve a great characther! ‘‘An
accomplished lubber?” Ha—ha—ha! Ho—ho—ho! No
high Dutch there—oh, no! ‘‘And I recommend him to all r
who want to hire such help as a good man to hire to go away.”
Hurroo—what a blessed b’y ye are! An’ yer mother was a

_ Duchess, an’ yer father a Prince of Bohemia? Oh, yer a
broth of-an idiot, ye are!

Hans. You makes sport, eh? You don’d haf enough
mit te floor? 1 schoost gills te nigger vot says to me,
» “ Dutehy, you git!” und I gills von Irishrgan vot laughs mit
my baper, und dalks mit me ash an idiot. I knows dot vort.
Das pea vool, eh? Den I shakes you like as mooch as a
- pull-tog das is a terrier—you ferstay, eh? (Menaces TED.)

- ‘Trp. Oh, you git down off’n your high roost, will ye, ye
lesther-headed loon! (Shakes paper.) You don’t see tLat this
is not a good recommend, but a sell—a joke—a satire, yov
* lop-sided son of Limburger cheese and sour-krout. Don’t
-ye see that Thompson has been makin’ a fool ov ye, ye ~
_ amazin’ booby? :
Hans. Eh? (Scratches head.) Eh? Vot is dot? Sooaee
_ quick! Is I pe a vool mit dot baper?
yepeT ED, A. fool? I should say so-~a first-class fool. os
you have been showing it here to me masther an’ misthress?
Hans. Yaw, show it swansy dimes. Now J goes pack 2

 

 

 
      
       
      
   
       
     
     
      
      
         
          
    
   
    
    
   
    
    
   
   
 
 
 
 
   
  
     
 
   
   
    
    
   
   
    
    
   

CHEERY AND GRUMBLE. - Oo i ale

   
 

und sees Mister Dompson mit a boliceman, und haf sw:
hoondret tollar slanter py de goort-house. é

Trp. SolIwould An’ I’ll be the ividince that Thomp ©
son is a wag ov the first wather, an’ that ye are injured ‘y
yer association wid him—bedad Tf will.

Hans. Gif your hant py te sign. (Shakes hands.) 1
shall ask you go mit me to sthreed ofer, und py te salocr
gits somedings goot. Dompson is a—vot you call hiry

Tgp. A wag—a bad wag. ‘

F Hans. Shoust so; a pat vag. He vags mit me py te
F paper, und shall bay me swi hcondred tollar. You goes und-
trinks on dot? 4
Trp. Of coorse; I nivir yit refused to stand hy a man
whin he is riddy fer a square set-to wid a bar-tinder. Thomp-
son is a bad wag.
Hans. Vell, den, Dompson shall bay me swi hoondred
‘ tollar; so we goes te shtreed ofer und haf a goot dime foon —
Es finf tollar wort, und den we goes by te boliceman against
Dompson. (They lock arms, and start.)
Tep. Thompson is a very bad wag. . (Curtain falls.,

 

 

 

CHEERY AND GRUMBLE.
FOR TWO LITTLE BOYS.
©. Good-morning, friend; I hope you've well?
g It is such glorious weather,
My spirits and the thistle-down
loat up and off together.
9 - @_ You call this glorious weather? Why,
‘ *T would roast. a salamander! +
But, then, the sauce that fits the goose
r Don’t always fit the gander. .
C. Well, how is business? Looking up?
I think the times improving.
“ ; They say a month or two will see
New enterprises moving.
G. Now, leu me give you some advice
Reef sails, for storms are brewing. ;
The times—I tell you, sir—the times
-Portend but wreek and ruin.
THE DIME DIALOGUES,

C. Aha! No, no! The country’s rich,
Don’t prophesy disaster.

G. We've always gone too fast, my friend,
And, like John Gilpin, faster.

Our steeds all run away with us—
We're going to perdition!”

A bankrupt, rotten, lying race—
To cheat is our ambition,

Friend Grumble, don’t forget to vote
To morrow at your station;

We want the help of all good men
In governing the nation.

G. Vote! Not a man on either side
Shall get from me a ballot.
Dishonest demagogues and frauds,
They nauseate my palate.

Well, how’s the pretty Fanny now?
And when will you be married?
It seems to me at courtship’s gate |
Too long you two have tarried.
Truth is, I can’t make up my mind.
In Fan there’s much to censure;
Then, there’s the mother-in-law, you know?
And so—I dare not venture.

Ah, Grumble, with a wife and child
Like mine, a man’s in heaven!
Oh, yes; one child does very well—
But, then, I might have seven!

Good-by. Excuse my haste, but I
Behold that villain, Cummins;
He’s got to show in court to-day—

I’ve got for him a summons.

Good-by; and now my heart is light,
The sun again is shining.

Oh, Grumble, Grumble, what a sin,
To be forever nbining |

 
  

 

 

 
 
 

THE PHANTOM DOUGHNUTS.

  
  

THE PHANTOM DOUGHNUTS.

A DOMESTIC DIALOGUE FOR SIX FEMALES.

 

Characters :—Mrs. Guaprone; Miss Marrow; Mrinnig Ray
nok; Mrs Browser; Miss EARNEST; SALLY SMITH

  

Scrnze.—A village sitting-room.

(Mus. GuaDToNnE discovered, putting things tn order.} <a

  

Mrs. G. Settled in the new home at last, with no caller ‘
as yet. If it well not for John I might feel lonely away from j
old acquaintances and friends; but I will not let one shade of a
loneliness creep over me. It is said that ‘‘ constant occupa
tion prevents temptation.” -And so, to prevent the tempta- te
tion of feeiing gloomy, I will keep myself occupied. In ‘the
first place I will fry some doughnuts, for John is so fond of
them. Tl get the materials ready this moment. (Going,
when a knock is heard; the door is opened and Miss Marrow en-
ters and seats herself.) < 4

Miss M. You are the new-comer, I imagine, and I’m Doc- a
tor Marrow. I shan’t ask you to excuse me for entering
without waiting for you to open the door, because I never —
beg any one’s pardon, and I never stand on ceremony. You
don’t look over and above smart, and you’d better consult
me.

Mrs. G. Tm quite well, I assure you.

Miss M. Yes, that is what everybody says, and that is
because everybody knows just nothing. Everybody is one
mass of bones and ashes. and liable to fall to pieces at any mo- a
ment. But, when you doconsult any one don’t call ina male
physician; they don’t know anything; men never do. Child |
ren’s complaints are my specialty; never lost a case yet, whil.
my rival, the male doctor of this town, has—well, I sav n¢
‘thing.

Mrs. G. That is just my idea of the matter, exactly
When a person doesn’t want to say any good of another it is
best to say nothing.

Miss M. Glad you appreciate my good qualities. It isn’t
everybody that will do so. I know I have enemies—dark and

- sanguinary ones, who would’ like to see me ‘under the sod, —
Now there is—but [ say nothing. As I was about to re

  
    
  
  
  

    
     
  

    
    
   
 

{a

a
wy

   
   
 

    

 

 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
   
     
   
   
   
     
      
    
   
   
   
   
   
   
    
    
    

THE OIME DIALOGUES.

 

mark, children’s complaints are my specialty. Now, sup
posing a child had the rickets, what would yow do with it?
: Mrs. G. (Growing somewhat tired and not paying par
ticular attention.) Put them in scalding lard and fry until
done. 1

‘Miss M. Eh! Put a rickety child into scalding lard and
fry until done!

Mrs. G. Beg pardon! I was not following yon, ex ne
yy. I was thinking of some doughnuts I was about to fry
when you came in.

Miss M. Doughnuts? You don’t mean to say that you
actus..7 cook, eat and like doughnuts?

Mrs. G. Yes, John; that’s my husband—and myself are E
very fond of them, and we always try to have them on hand. at:

Miss M. Indigestible stuff! I don’t wonder you look as
if you had one foot in the grave. I shudder to think of it,
If the truth were told in all obituary notices you’d see more
than half of all deaths attributed to doughnuts. How would
you like to see engraven on your tombstone, ‘‘ Died of dough
nuts?”

Mrs. G. I have never given it any serious. thought, but
_ perhaps I may now take the matter into consideration, ar
_ lard is really very dear. \

Miss M. Then begin now and think seriously over it.
But, if you do continue to fry doughnuts, you might send me
over a dozen to analyze, that I may give my comments there
- on in my new work I am about to issue.

Mrs. G.' (Aside.) Analyze by eating/them, I reckon.
Miss M. I must go now—have lots of patients to attead

' Tll come over some afternoon and cheer you up. Tl tel’
,7ou some beuutiful stories of people falling out of windows -
_ nd breaking their collar-bones, of the beautiful cases of mes
sles I have had under my care, and of the flood of patients |
have at green-apple and mince-pie time; and I'll bring you
- over an elegant specimen of a sprained ankle, all done in wax”
by myself; and a tumor I extracted and have preserved
in spirits; and a wax nose for old Ben Stockton, just as na-
tural as life. But I must really go now. Don’t forget te
OEE ™e wahep you make the doughnuts. —
(Heit Ee bs:

ee

 

 

 
 

  
     
   
    
 
  
 
    
   
   
     
   
  
   
   
  
 
  
   
    

ne | 5 \ ao ae
4 i We
.

2 THE PHANTOM DOUGHNUTS. 2)

/ Mre G. Whew—what astrong-minded! But I must get
‘ at my doughnuts. (Knock heard. Mrs. G. opens door and
admits YANNIE RAYNOR.)

Minyiz. Good-day,my dear Mrs. Gladtone! I am so glad
to welcome a new neighbor, and I do hope you are one who
can and will appreciate the heart-yearnings of one whose soul

F is sc filled with the hopes and aspirations of a young and
E gushing girl. J am Minnie Raynor—the village belle thry
ail call me
‘ Mrs. G@. ’Twas very thoughtful of you to call, and if
: san aid you be assured I wi, Is it an affair of the heart,
fs Miss Minnie?

Minnie. No, indeed, the trouble lies here (points to her
head.) Too much brain-work.
~ Mrs. G. (Aside.) I hope she is not insane; too little
wits, I guess. :
Mrnniz. Yow thought I was in love! Ha, ha! Minnie
Raynor in love! Oh, no. I’m above that. TI think I can
write poetry, but others, enemies of my talent, do not think |
as Ido. The fact is, Tam not appreciated in this rude vil-.
iage. I have written some beautiful poemlets and they’re |
ail about twinkling stars and keramic jars; there’s one about
: a maiden who fell in love with a tree, and, when she died, she
— was buried under it and a vine grew out of the grave and
wound itself round the tree lovingly. I don’t believe Long-
fellow or Tennyson could think of such a thing as that, and —
if I ever can get it published it will make a sensation similar |
to the glorious reputation of the now immortal Tupper,
Mrs. G. I do not doubt it. ; cay
Minnie. There, I’m so glad to hear you say that, forit |
thows that you do apprecixte me, and I'll bring over tha |
pocmnlet and read it to you some afternoon. JI must go now
for 1 left the dishes all unwashed and mother will be in
such a stew when she finds I’ve left them. Im real glad to
call. (Hait.) —
Mrs. G. What a rattlepate creature, to be sure; but, if
[ don’t fly about I shall never get at these doughnuts.
“4 (Enter ‘Mrs. BROWSER.) :
Mrs. B. Howdy, Mrs. Gladtone! I’m proper glad for to
see you; and you're e’ena’most settled, been’t ye? Tm Mra

 

 

    

     
    
 

  
     
THE DIME DIALOGUES

Browser, and I tell ye I’m a good neighbor and hope you'd
be the same. Cuan’t say much as to the woman who lived
here afore ye. She was mighty techy, an’ uppish like ‘n
her dress an’ ways, an’ was. so particular about lending a
body anything. I sent over one day to borry two drawings
of tea, a pound of sugar, a couple of candles, a quart of
milk, a dozen eggs and some molasses, and, do you know,
she disableeging creetur’ wouldn’t lend ’em, and she know’#
ust as well as any one that I always returned everything
borrowed. If I did happen to forgit it she hadn’t ought ta
blame me, but pity me my treacherous mem’ry.

Mrs. G. If a person must borrow, it seems to me the
borrowed things should be returned.

Mrs. B. But, if a body forgits to return, what then?

Mrs. G. Then one shouldn’t borrow and another one
shouldn’t lend.

* Mrs. B. That seems awful hard on folks what has not

got good memories. Now, I thought you'd be so different,

seein’ as you look so nice an’ comfortable. I don’t know

whether you’re a professor or no, or whether you’re a church

member at all, but it seems to me your creed is a kind of on-
_ charitable one.

Mrs. G. No, i, think not. We had best be just before
we are generous. ; .

Mrs. B. Ah, well; some folks is born with some kind of >
idees and some with other kinds, but the kind for me is those
who don’t begrudge a wee bit of sugar, or grain of tea to an
unfortunate creeter in need of it, or to a eee who is
just out ov them.

Mrs. G. And I wouldn’t. I pity the ‘unfertunate and

«would help them all I could; but we are not required t
_elp those who are able to help themselves. Such  persex
ally have no claims on our bounty, it seems to me

Mrs. B. Well, ma’am, seein’ you are so “‘ high-toned " as
all that comes to, I guess I must be a-going. J] must say 1}
am disappointed in you. ait.)

Mrs. G. There, maybe IT was rude, or spoke my mind:
too freely, and Mrs. Browser may report me over the village
asa most uncongenial neighbor. I should have been more
careful in expressing my feelings. But, al) my reyrets wil’

 
THE PHANTOM DOUGHNUTS

not fry the doughnuts, and doughnuts are now the order of
the day with me. I wonder if I shall get them done ‘n time
‘for John’s dinnér? (Knock at door. Mrs, G. opens.and ad
mits Miss Earnest, with a valise.)

Miss E. Good-day, ma’am! I’m on a peddling trip, and
can sell you cheap as the cheapest the best of small goods to ©
be found this side of Boston, and all for cash. I’ve buttons
hat the King of India would give the riches from his crown
to possess, and I’ve euch a sweet, dear little assortment of
neck fixin’s, cuffs an’ collars, hair-pins an’ ribbons dizect
from Her Majesty’s Royal Palace at Buckingham, that would
captivate you at once. And I’ve spool cotton, warranted -
200 yards, and, if you don’t believe it, you have my full per-
mission to measure the same and see for yourself.

Mrs. G. I do not think I am in want of any articles to-
day. You see, when we moved here, I brought a good sup-
ply with me. .

Miss E. Poor policy in you, my dear taken! You
 shouldn’t have done that; you should have waited, and pa-

tronized the traders and peddlers in your new locality. By
that means, you would have gained their good-will, and J
tell you that’s a good thing to gain. It’s as good as money
to some folks. It is to me, it’s half of my capital, if I de
have to admit it.

Mrs. G. I thought it were better to trade with one who
had served me well for many years as long as I could; and,
of course, the traders here will, ere a great t while, receive a

_ share of my patronage.

Miss E. And you'll not forget me, will you? You know
‘hat shoe-strings are liable to break, and buttons will get lost.
“li be in every week to see how you are getting along, and
hat you don’t need for anything. (Eivit.)

Mrs. G. What will become of my doughnuts? They

_ seem to be like some phantom one is pursuing in one’s
_ Yreams—almost caught but never secure. I do hope there
_ will be no more interruptiens, and that the doughnuts will
_ not prove to be phantoms, (Hnter Sauiy Surru, hurriedly.)

Satty. Oh, an’ if -you please, won?t. you come down 1)
mother’s house with me? The baby’s sick, and mother thinks
_ she’s got the parrygorrick, and there isn’t any croup in the

 
  
  
 
  
   
   
   
  
      
    
   
       
   
   
       
     
   
   
   
   
   
   
       
       
     
   
 
    

THE DIME DIALOGUES.

house, and mother wants you to stay in the house with ha |
while the baby goes for the doctor, and she wants you todo |
your best to keep her from dying while the doctor has gone |-
for the baby, and I guess that’s all. E

Mrs. G. How far do_you live from here?

Sauiy. Only a little way from here—just across the lot,
ani if you could only fly you could get there in a minute.

Mrs. G. I will go with you, my dear. I shal. have to
tell John, on the way, that he must pick up what he can fo
dinner. I fear he will not much like dining on phantom
doughnuts. (Heit, with Sauuy, but is stayed at the door by ‘he
return of all the callers.)

Miss M. I was a-walking around in your garden
to see what new medicinal plants I could find, when i
met—

Minnig. I was walking in the garden to admire the ex- |
quisite beauty of the flowers, and” to inhale inspiration from
their delicious odor, when I met—

Mrs. B. I was jest thinkin’ ye might have some sage
or pa’sley, or an inyin or two for the soup I’m goin’ to oe a
wone for to-morrow, when I met—

Miss E, I was jist thinkin’ that perhaps I might see
somethin’ I could sell for ye, an’ have ye take it out in
goods when I met—

Mrs. G. Ah, yes! I see. You all were promenading ©
around the premises for, mutua. improvement, and accident- —
ally met. 5 =

Miss M. And we discussed the question of the relative E
danger of doughnuts to the constitution; and, as there was
an apparent diversity of views, we decided to test the matte:
ay aetua. experiment; so, if you'll proceed to fr y them, we
vait here and—

Miynre. Yes, we’ll have to decide by aiskiedy eating se
_wral apiece. I’m sure they will etherealize my ideas, for 11
-§ doughnuts that the poets live on.

Miss M. Just so; they all héve the dyspepsia and liver
complaint and gout and consumption which is the natural
result of eating doughnuts:

Mus, B. Oh, git eout! I’ve eaten doughnuts, off an’ on |
these fifteen yoate at I’m ’most Eine 2 now—

 

 
er |

do
ne

ue. ee

  

 

|

 

THE PHANTOM DOUGHNUTS.

Miss M. ’Most thirty! Bless me, if you haven’t seen
fifty, then I haven’t seen twenty-eight!

Mrs. B. Fifty! Fifty! You old saw-bones, what do
you mean? VPi—DPU— (Menaces Miss M., who backs toward
the door.)

Sautiy. An’ here ye’re keepin’ me, an’ the baby a-dyin’
—oh, dear! :

Miss M. Baby sick? Measles, whoopin’-cough, scarlet
fever, got scalded, run ‘over tumbled in the cistern, or has it
been eatin’ doughnuts?

Satiy. None of them; but if you'll stop yer jabberin’,
an’ ’tend to business, I’ll be obliged to ye.

Miss M. Oh, yes; business. One dollar a visit to old
folks—children half-price; come along! (Hveunt SALLY and
Miss Marrow.)

Mrs. B. The old pill bags! Me tifty—that beats all!
I’m goin’ to prosecute her for slander. (Hait.)

Miss E. But, about them doughnuts?

Minniz. Yes, about the doughnuts, dear Mrs. Gladstone?

Mrs. G. (TZragically.) All plantoms, ladies—phantoms!
A dream unfulfilled—a visionary hope—a delusion—an evil
conjuration! Ill none of them to-day! Avaunt, vanity of
vanities!» Away, doughnuts, and come home, John—dough-
nutless, friendless, lost!  (HZowls.) ;

Mixniz. (Screams.) Oh, she’s crazy! Tthought so, from

the first. Oh, dear me, I never dare to come here again!

(Zrit.)
- Miss E. Yes, mad, sure’s I’m a peddler. It’s my
boundin’ duty to keep people from comin’ here. (Kvit.)

Mrs. G. Ha—ha—ha! Happy thought, that. If it

-only will keep such people away, Vl] sing—Doughnuts For-

ever! :
(Curtain falls.) .

  

 

 

 

 

  
THE DIME DIALOGUES.

DOES IT PAY?
FOR SIX MALES.
(Enter frep and Aumcx. ALECK with bloody nose.)

Frep. Why, Aleck, what hashappened? Been fighting,
and got the worst of it?

AurcK. Fighting? I guess you’d say so if ycu had seen
‘t! It was the finest pitched battle you ever saw. Why,
ac WChamyp.on Nines are beaten /

Frep. The Champion Nines? What, have they gone to
fighting by nines? ¢

Auxcx. Certamly. Couldn’t do with less. I tell you it

' was splendid!

Frep. I should say so, judging by your nose. Did the
whole nine fall afoul of you? :

Aueck. A foul? Not a foul in the whole day!

Frep. Whole day? Were you at it all day?

AuecK. About four hours. ‘The bullyest flinging and
striking of the season. Oh, you ought to have been there!
A thousand people saw it, and the ladies were Just wild over
the match.

Frep. Ladies? Great ladies they must have been! (Hn-
ter ADDISON, with face much swollen and jaw tied up.) Bless
me, what is up now? Have you, too, been seeing the Cham-
pion Nines?

Ap. (Speaking thickly.) You can bet I was in that pretty
skrimmage! It’s the biggest beat of the year!
~ Frep. I should say so—almost a dedd beat, judging
fom your appearance. It must be real fun to participate ip
such contests. $

Ap. It’s just the greatest sport you ever saw. You'd
bet high if you’d been there.

Frep.” And you really enjoyed it?

Ap. That’s no name for it. (Hnter CHARLEY, with arm mm
sling and handkerchief around head.) Ah, Charley, boy, how’s —
your sconce?

_Cuas. Hunkey! But, wasn’t that a stunner we gave

them, boys?

ALECK. You can just go in on that! We've settled their

bash, for this year. — (Enter Bor, limping badiy, and using e

 
  

DOES Iv PAY?

  
  

   

   

ball-bat for « cane.) Ah, Bob, got winged in the trotter!
Much of a bu’st?

Bos. Pretty bad. Knee out of joint, and back twisted,
and arkle sprained. But that’s nothing. Didn't we give
them a peeler, boys? I tell you it was worth a hundredé
cheers the way we jounced them! No more crowing for
them this season, so long as we’re around.

       
       
     
       
       
     
     
     
 

: Frep. One battered nose—one pounded face and half
| broken jaw—oneé injured arm and thumped head—-one 2
twisted knee, sprained ankle and lame back. Yes, I shouid
zay it was worth a kundred cheers. So let’s give’em, Now, 3
one cheer for Aleck’s nose! Hurrah / -
ALECK. Oh, you dry up! :
Frep. What, you object to cheering for the fruits of
victory? Well, now let’s cheer for Ad’s broken jaw. Hur. i

   

rah | ;
Ap, Oh, blathers! Never mind the jaw. ; y

Frep. Never mind the jaw? Well, that is treating the 4
jaw rather meanly, isn’t it, seeing that it is your flag of vic-
tory? Theh three cheers for Charley’s broken arm and
sracked skull. Hurrah /

Caas. Oh, hang my arm and cracked skull! You don’t
inderstand the sport at all, that is evident.

Frep. I guessI do. I’m sure | enjoy seeing you fel-
ows battered and bruised and broken. (Hnter HENRY with
tand tied up in a great bundle.) And Henry, too? Well,
this 7s jolly!

Yenry. Just the biggest beat you ever saw!

' Frep. What's your distinguishing mark of victory!
| Lifting mjured hand.>}. :

. Henry. Oh, nothing, but a broken thumb—end 4!

smashed. Bail struck it right on tip and stove it rwett;

vad.

Frep. Capital! Anybody else hurt?

Henry. I’ve just come from Ed. He is really aurt nard.
. That bat in the breast has broken two ribs, and he won't be
_ around again, the doctor says, fur a month. Ed’s the boy
that finished them off, though, and he won’t care for the
broken ribs. Wasn’t his catching spiendid?

_ Atgcx. You can bet high on that!

    
       
       
       
     
         
     
    
       
   
         
   
   
       
     
       
      

    
 
THE DIME DIALOGUES.

Frep. Any other casualties to report?

Henry. None to speak of. Lew Dennis got one in the
mouth, and swallowed three front teeth. He did look comi
esl, theugh! Lips swelled like bolognas, and when he
grinned, you’d thought #% was opening the gate to the
slaughter-house. _Ha—ha—ha!

Frep. And what pay do you fellows receive for all
this?

Cuas. Pay? Why, what a question! No pay, of course
only the glory of it.

-Frep. The glory of what?

Cuas. Why, of beating the Champions.

Frep. And who, pray, are the Champions?

Cas. Oh, picked men.. One is Bill Bangs, the Prize
Fighter; and another is Paddy the Pidgeon, the hackman
who murdered the “longshoreman last year; another is Big.

Jo, the liquor distiller; another is the Sport, Hez Lomis; a
fifth is Sam Henson, the stage driver. So you see, it is a
big thing to beat such men.

Frep. Yes, I should say it was—a big thing to vie with —
such champions! Pray, how much time have you spent fit-
ting yourselves for this noble contest? You, Bob, for in-
stunce—how many hours per day did you have to take fror
your shop and work?

Bos. Well, about three hours per day twice a week, all
summer. But the others were at it every day.

Frep. Six hours a week for you, for three months, 1s— —
let me see—seventy-two hours. Multiply this by nine and

we have six hundred and. forty-eight hours you fellows have
spent preparing to match Bill Bangs, Paddy Pidgeon, Big
Jo, Hez Lomis, Sam Henson and their confederates, and you —
aave succeeded in coming off victorious, with maimed !imba
and bruised bodies. Now, boys, just look st yoursely7s as
you are—are you not a pretty looking set? (hey all wk at
themselves. ) oo

‘ALECK, Well, we are rather the worse for wear, that’s a

fact. B
_ Frep. And rather the worse for i die aeacsctationi too, nf

_ should say, judging by the slang language you all seem to —
ware adopted. Learned that, of course, of Bill Bangs, Paddy

 
  

ay ee eee er,

DOES IT PAY?

Pidgeon, Big Jo, Hez Lomis, Sam Henson and the other
oafers and ruffians who compose the champions. Nice fel-
,ows for associates! And, I dare say, too, you all know how
to liquor up—stand treat—punish whisky—get outside of
Kentucky lightning; you are connoisseurs of cobblers, juleps,

" smashes, punches and all other delectable compounds of the

bar. Is it not so? :

Cas. Well, Fred, you’ve hit it pretty straight on the
talk. We’ve got a taste for slang words I never used before
this season. \

Hexiz. And not far out of the way on the drinks; we
all have had to stand treat and be treated, at a pretty round
cost’ in cash.

Frep. And the sum and substance of your devotion to
the sport, as you term it, is association with loafers, great
loss of time, bad language, bad habit of liquor drinking,
serious injury to body, and loss of your own self- respect
all on the debit side. On the credit side you have your vie-
tory over the Champions. Does it pay ?

Aueck. Well, looking at the thing square in the fara—
no!

Ap. It has lost me a good situation.

Cuas. It has cost me over fifty dollars in cash.

Bos. And kept me from business, so that I’ve lost custi.a
a good deal, I know.

Heyry. And so injured my thumb that I fear I never
can use it again—a nice fix for a book-keeper to be in.

Frep. And what do you vote to do? Keep up the
sport? Go on in this open road to ruin?

- <Auecx. i say disband and never play base-ball again a
aclub It is all loss and no gain. I see it now if I neve
did. before.

Frzxp. Better late, than ‘not at all. Better stop on the

brink than go over the falls. Who votes ‘‘ ay”?
Ap. Ay!

¥

ene

Frep Good boys! Now we’ have “ Auld Lang Syne ™

4 on that.
(Al sing “ Awd Lang Syne” and ance drans as last line

  
    

 

 

 

  
  
  
   
    

 

 
 
THE DIME DIALOGUES.

“COMPANY” MANNERS AND HOME IMPOLITE:.
: NESS.
Characters : -—Mr. Taytor, Mr. Wurre, Mrs. TAyior, Mrs,
WHITE, and two chititron.

ScmnE I —Mrs. Taytor’s sttting-room. Mrs. TayLok «nag
Mrs. Wuite doing some sort of fancy-work.

(In this scene, as wel. as the rest, Mrs. Warren should sit where
her ‘‘ asides” will be distinctly audible tc the audience.)

Mrs. Taytor. Now, your husband is so different, Mrs,
White. He never minds those little mishaps which will .hap-
pen, even in the best regulated families, while my husband
looks so vexed when things go wrong. Have you never

» noticed the difference between them?

Mrs. Wuirs. I can’t say I have.

Mrs. T. Well, now, when they come in to tea, just no-
tice and you will soon see. Why,° Mrs. White, I think
you’ve got the best-natured husband in the world.

Mrs. W. I dare say you do. (Aside.) And so he is—in
company.

Mrs. T. But then, you get on so well with your house-
keeping. Nothing ever seems to go wrong over at your

- house, and youalways have good luck with your cooking.

Mrs. W. I think that I amas apt to fail as most people.

Mrs. T. If'I do say it myself, I am usually a pretty
good cook. But, somehow or other, it always happens,
when I am going to have company, that I don’t have a good
oven, or I forget the baking-powder in the cake, or some.
little thing like that, and- then Will doesn’t like ¢.. I cay
‘ell by his looks, even if he doesn’t say anything.

Mis. W. (Aside) I shouldnt think he would. (Aloud }
Most men dislike to have a poor supper when they come
home at night, all tired out with business. _ ‘

- Mrs. T. Well, they needn’t be as cross as bears about it,
anyway. How can I help it if the girl burns the meat and» :
serves the potatoes half done?

: Mrs. W. (Laughing.) Do as I do; that is, do it your-
belt. I keep a girl to take care of the children, wait on the

'

 
:

‘COMPANY ’’ MANNERS AND HOME POLITENESS. $1

table, wash the dishes, and do such work, and do the cook:
ing and sweeping myself. I find I get on mueh better than
I used to with a girl in the kitchen and no one to look after
the children but myself,

Mrs. T. You never did mind doing housework, even
when you were a girl, but I must say that there’s nothing |
dislike so much. My motto is, ‘‘ Let servants do what they
san, and let the rest go,” and a very comfortable motto 1
dad it, too. :

Mrs W. (Aside.) I should think her husband would
frown. (Aloud.) I don’t believe in that, at all. I really
like housework no niore than you do, but I feel fully re-
paid by the brighter and better looks of things.

Mrs. T. And doesn’t your husband like it better, too?

Mrs. W. Oh, I suppose so. (Aside.) He never seems to.

Mrs. T. He is so pleasant he wouldn’t say anything even
if things didn’t exactly suit, I know.

Mrs. W. He dislikes unpleasant things as much as any z

one, I can assure you.

Mrs. T. But he doesn’t show it.

Mrs. W. (Aside.) Don’t be too sure. (Enter gentlamen
from business. They say ‘‘ Good afternoon” and the ladies get
up and help them off with their overcoats, Then they all sit
down.) -

Mr. W. Ah, this is cheerful. Been at work, iadies? _

Mrs. T. We've been doing a little fancy-work to help
pass away tie time, that is all.

Mx. T. ‘[ tell wife that this everlasting fancy-work is all
ponsense. Might much better be doing something useful,

Mr. W- Not at all, not at all! Let the ladies do as they
Please. They ought to know best, and surely they do some
times make very pretty trifles.

Mrs. W. (Aside.) He doesn’t say that at home.

Mr T. Why don’t we have tea, wife? It’s already past
six, and I’m sure White must be almost Sheer by this
time.

Mrs. T. I told Ann to be sure and have supper at six,
out I suppose her fire is slow, or something else.

Mr. W. Don’t mention it, I beg. It is only quarter
» Past six. mee se age are net long to wait.

wx

/

 
THE DIME DIALOGUES.

Mrs. W. (Aside.) Yet if our tea is five minutes late, he
is displeased and growls.

Mr. T. Well, I’m hungry, if you’re not, so I wish she’d
hurry up. (Bell rings.)

Mrs. T. There’s the bell, now, so come ae. (Zeeunt,
and curtain falls.)

ScENE 1L—Mns. TAYLOR’s tea-table

Mrs. T. I’m afraid this tea is rather weak, Mr, White;
do you not find it so?

Mr. W. (Pleasantly.) It is very nice, indeed, thank you,
Mrs, Taylor; very nice, indeed. Strong tea affects the
nerves, I think, and keeps one awake at night.

Mrs. W. (Aside) This won't, at any rate.

Mrs. T. (Passing the biscuit.) Have a biscuit, Mrs.

-White. These are hardly as nice as usual, I’m afraid, but
what can’t be cured must be endured, so let us make the
most of them.

Mrs. W. Pray make no apologies, Mrs. Taylor.

Mr. W. I don’t see what fault you can have to find with
these, Mrs. Taylor; they are capital. I shall have to send
my wife over to take lessons in cooking from you.

“Mrs. T. (Looking highly pleased.) Really, now, Mr.
White? I’m sure I’m glad you like them.

Mrs. W. (Aside.) Pieces of leather!

Mr. T. Have some more steak, Mrs. White? I’m afraid
it’s a little bit scorched, isn’t it, wife?

Mrs. W. I don’t wish any more, thank you!

Mr. W. I will take a bit more, if you please; if tneres

nything I like, it is steak just a trifle scorched.

Mrs. T. You're not hard to suit, Mr. White I was ‘
just telling your wife what an easy person you were to get 3
slong with,

Mr. W. But everything is so nice, Mrs. Taylor, that ne
one could find fault. ;

Mr. T. Will you ring for some more tea, wife? a

Mrs. T (Rings the bell, and then rings again.) Where's —

; S esi a f t ~ L

 
“ coMPANY’’ MANNERS AND HOME POLITENESS, 33

Ann, I wonder. (Rings again.) That girl is never around
when she’s wanted. I declare I’ll have to go myself. Pray
excuse me.

Mrs. W. Oh, cavity

Mr. T. Dear me! Wife has to keep going all the time
' If there’s anything I hate, it’s to have some one jumping up
from the table every minute.

Mr. W. Ob, well! It can’t be helped, you know

Mrs. W. Servants are 80 inattentive that you can’
always depend on them.

(Re-enter Mrs. TAYLOR with tea.)

Mrs. T. Do have some of the preserves, Mrs. Whiue. I
' had them expressly for you, because I knew that _you were
fond of strawberries.

Mr. T. They scem to be a trifle sour, don’t they, Mollie?

Mrs. T. Well, now, that # too bad! Let me ring for
some more.

- Mr. W. No, indeed! These are splendid! A little acid
improves the favor, don’t you think so?

Mrs. T. I never thought of that before, but now you
speak of it, I do think so.

Mrs, W. I know from experience that it is very hard to
keep fruit during such warm, dry weather as we've been
having.

-Mr. T. Have you heard of the late great failure White?

Mr. W. No; who has gone up, now?

Mr. T. Barker & Co.

Bors Lapras. Indeed? You.don’t say so!

Mr. T. Thay say ’twas his wife’s extravagance that
ruincd Barker—made him reckless. i

Mrs. W. She always was a reckless housekeeper.

Mrs. T. I know it. Iwas there to tea one night, anc
much ameal! Sour bread, two or three kinds of preserves,

not one of them fit to eat, cake heavy as lead, et cetera.

Mrs. W. . (Aside.) Indeed, I wonder Mrs. Taylor oot
notice it. —

Mr. T. (Laughang. ) Something like this one, I’m thinking,

Mrs. T. Now, that’s too bad, to compare my tea with

hers! This is a very good supper, I'd have you to under
wand. Isn’t it, te White?

 
   
   
      
 
         
       
     
   
        
     
    

THE DIME DIALOGUES,

Mr. W. Indeed it is! I haven't enjoyed a meal so 9

: : h
much in a long time.

Mrs. T There, now, Mr. Taylor! = -

Mrs. W. (Aside.) He wouldn’t touch a mouthful of it at

home.
Mr. W. Mrs. Taylor, I really must aonierueeee you on ©
a your cake-making.
le Mrs. T. (Delightedly.) Oh, thank you, Mr. White! ¥-
hought this cake was a little heavy; but I guess all pound ©
cake is that way, isn’t it, Mrs. White? ;
Mrs. W. Really, I don’ t think myself competent to jndge
on such a weighty matter.
Mr. W. Oh, wife is a pretty good cook; but there is
always room for improvement, you know. j
Mrs. W. (Aside.) I> should say there was—-in Mrs. ©
Taylor’s case, at least. 5
Mrs. T. I’m glad, if you have enjoyed your supper.
You must come again soon, when I hope to have better luck. —
Mr. W. It would be a great pleasure, I assure you. :
Mrs. W. (Aside.) Perhaps it would to him, but not to me
Mr. T. Well, let us go to the parlor. ;
(Hzeunt, and curtain drops.)

 

       
       
     
   
   
     
        
      
     
       
     
   
     
  

Sornz III.—Mrs. Wurrn’s dining-room. Mrs. W. setting tha
table, and the children playing around.

Mrs. W. (Zulking to herself.) ve resolved to give my 4
good-natured husband a lesson—to be good-natured at home ~
as well as in company. Dear me! How provoking it is tc —
have a man always ‘finding fault, no matter how nice yeu —
aave everything! Well, he’ll find fault to-night, and plenty —

_ of it; but I don’t care! It will serve him right to have just.
such a supper as we had last night at Mrs. Taylor’s, VU
show him that I am a better cook any day than that care- ©
less weman. Tee es, Lae
(Enter Mr. WHITE.)

Mr. W. Why on earth don’t we have supper, Jennie
m as hungry as a bear.

Mus. W. Is it late?

   
“(COMPANY ’ MANNERS AND HOME POLITENESS. 35

Mx. W. It’s a quarter past six, and I believe our suppe:
hour is six.

Mrs. W. Only fifteen minutes late; that’s not much

_Mr. W. It’s enough to a man coming home tired out
from his business.

Mrs. W. You didn’t seem to mind it much last night at
Ms. Taylor’s.

Mr. W. That was an entirely different matter. I was

tsiting, and you wouldn’t*want me to be impolite, would you?

Mrs. W. Oh, no, certainly not! But our own supper is
ready now; so sit aan: Come, children!

Mr. W. (Taking some potato.) Goodness! Did you
empty the salt keg into these potatoes?

Mrs. W. (Tasting hers They are a little salt, that’s a
fact; But. they will give you a relish for your tea. Here it
is. (Passes cup.)

Mr. W. (Drinking, and setting down lis cup with a bang.)
Po you call this tea or dishwater? Such stuff I never tasted.

Mrs. W. (Calmly.) You told Mrs. Taylor that strong
tea hurt you, ;

Mr. W. Hum! Well—yes—I did; but I didn’t mean
such weak stuff as this. Bah! And the steak is burned,
too. What trash! It isn’t fit to eat!

Mrs. W. You told Mrs. Taylor you were fond of scorch
ed steak.

Mr. W. Yes—but—I—not as black as this, though
Haven’t you any light bread? These biscuits are—are—not
as good as usual.

Mrs. W. I don’t see what fault you can find with these
They are splendid!

Mrinnim. (Biting a big slice of cake-) What ails your cake,
namma? ~

Mr. W. It’s heavy as lead, that’s what’s the matter with
it. Wife, take that stuff away from that child. It will
make ner sick.

Mrs. W. (Quietly.) Mrs. Taylor’s cake was no lighter
than this, and you told her it was splendid.

Mr. W. Oh, pshaw! I don’t like such stuff at home
anyhow. And it seems to me these preserves ay taste
‘ust right. I believe they’re soured. :

 

 
THE DIME DIALOGUES.

Mrs. W. (Coolly) I believe they are, a little.

Mr. W. What did you put them on for, then? I think
this is a delightful meal, indeed! Not a single thing that is
fit to eat! ‘

Mrs. W. I’m sorry I didn’t please you. I tried to, es
pecially. —

Mr. W. Tried to!

Mrs. W. Yes; you said you were going to send me ove
so take lessons in cooking of Mrs. Taylor. I have taker
them at home, that’s all. But I don’t seem to have succeed-
ed as well as she did.

Mr. W. What do you mean, Jennie?

Mrs. W. Don’t you see? If you will think a moment,
you will sec that I have given you to-night just about what
she gave us last night. But, you remember, you “praised
everything, until Mrs. Taylor was perfectly satisfied.

Mr. W. Bosh, Jennie! Don’t you know that was als
said for the sake of politeness?

Mrs. W. Oh, was it? Then we are to teach our chil-
dren that politeness is only for company use, and not neces-
sary at home! | ’

Mr. W. Why, no; of course not.

Mrs. W. Then, if not, isn’t it as important to wear a
smile and a kind face, and try to excuse little accidents at
home, as when we are visiting? And if we don’t grumble
and growl all the time among those who are mere strangers, .

have we a right to make those whom we love best miserable —

hy doing so all the time at home?

Mr. W. You are a first rate preacher, that’s a fact, Jen- ~
nie. But I’ve got to see a man on business down-town, so
good-by. (Zzit.)

Mrs. W. Ha! ha! A good joke! I hope the lessor
will not be lost, and let us hope that if there are any Mr.
Whites among our kind hearers, they, too, will profit by it
The habit of fault-finding at home, and being polite only for
company, is a rule with too few exceptions; but when other
people see the husband as the wife sees him—as Mrs. White
sees Mr. White—we shall have a law of politeness that de
mands company manners at home. (Heeunt.)

\

i

 
    
 

THE GLAD DAYS.

THE GLAD DAYS.
FOR FOUR LITTLE Boys.

Scense —A play-ground. The four boys enter.
NELSON.

Hurrah! hurrah! for the glad New Year,
When the ground is covered with snow;

No cold I dread, but take my sled,
And over the meadows [ll go.

Hurrah! hurrah! for the ice and snow ;
That make us happy and free;

To slide or skate, on hill or lake—

Oh, the glad New Year for me!

 
     
       
     
   
   
      
 

 
 
   

 

   

FRANK.
Hurrah! hurrah! for the Fourth o’ July,
With its noise and racket and roar;
When we march away, with flags so gay,
Or hie to the cool sea-shore.
Hurrah! hurrah! for the music so grand,
That sounds on our year’s jubilee;
For the thousand joys that come to us, boys,
Oh, Fourth of July for me! .
THOMAS.
Hurrah! hurrah! for Thanksgiving time,
When the Autumn’s work is done;
For the pies and cakes that mother makes,
For the glorious harvest won!
Hurrah! hurrah! for the fruit we’ve stored, ; 7
Tis a time for frolic and glee;
No season on earth is so full of mirth,
Oh, Thanksgiving time for me!

      
   
   
   
   
   
   
      

 

      
     
  
  

  

   

CHARLES.
Hurrah! hurrah! for the Christmas time, Z
The most blessed of all the year; , ,

For the rich delights of the Winter aianies
For the season to all so dear. -
Hurrah! hurrah! for the Christmas time,
For the grand, bright Christmas tree.
Such precious things this season brings—= es
Oh, the Christmas time for me!

      
   
   
   
     
DIME DIALOGUES.

ALL.
Hurrah! hurrah! for each season rare,
Vacation and school-time too;
For work and play and. each holiday,
And the good we all can do.
Hurrah! hurrah! for our youth and health,
Every season so full of glee;
As we journey along, we will sing this song,
Oh, each day in the year for me! (Hzeunt.)

UNFORTUNATE MR. BROWN.
FOR ONE MALE AND SIX FEMALES,

Scene I.—Parlor with six girls in morning dress—Savim, —
Lorriz, Bessré, Manin, Lucy, Lizzir. /

Sapre. Girls,-here’s a rare chance for some fun! We've —
been dying for something to stir us up, and here’s the op- —
portunity. Guess what it is.

Lortiz. Can’t guess. Tell us at once; don’t keep us in —
misery. j

Bessie, I bet I know—something about Mr. Brown.

Lucy. Yes,.that’s it. Look at Sadie laugh!

Sapir. You're right, girls, and here goes; and if you |
don’t all and every one agree to’ help, I won’t own you as
friends. Iet’s make love to him. (They all laugh.) You ~
know he’s dreadfully bashful;. never looks you in the face,
and blushes like a peony if he’s spoken to; and we can do —

it. We'll twist and misconstrue every thing the poor man 4°

says until he don’t know what he is about; then we’ll make —
him say he loves us, or something which we'll pretend —
“amounts | to it, and after teasing his wits almost out of him, 7
we'll have a grand denouement. Agreed?

‘Giris. Splendid! Such fun! Glorious ! ete.

Lizzie. Ill make him set the day!

-Brssin. Tl threaten him with breach of promise!

Mamig. ~ And I, with an irate father and an uncompromis- _
ing brother! ; 4

Lortiz, Tl tell him that Iam pining away for love of

 
UNFORTUNATE MR. BROWN.

him, and that if my affection remains unrequited, an early
grave will’find me its victim, and he will be the cause. —

Lucy. I shall coax him; tell him I own a million in my
own name, and am only waiting for a lord and master to
heip me spend it. Zhat will bring him; for who ever saw
a man, bashful or bold, ignorant or educated, rich or poor,
who was not ready to fall at the shrine of Mammon?

Sapre. Don’t be too hard on him, girls. Perhaps he
will fall in love with one of us, after all, and that would be
more than we bargained for; but we’ll risk it. To-morrow
night, at Mrs. Jones’s reception, will be a splendid oppor-
tunity to begin our siege. We'll take turns in the order of
our ages, and I'll warrant three pairs of gloves against one
that before the evening is over, he will be caught fast! One
poor, bashful fellow versus six sharp-witted girls! Oh, I pity
him! AndFriday evening you all meet bere again, and Vl

_send for him, dnd we'll have it out! What fun it will be!
We must try the pathetic, the injured, the indignant—every
thing we can think of—and he’ll have to marry us all!’ The
six Mrs. Browns! I congratulate you on your choice of a
husband, (Curtain falls.)

Scene IL.—Sitting-room. Enter Wiit1aM Brown, an old
bachelor, wildly, with hair disheveled,

_ Mr. B. Great Heavens! Can it be I? I cannot realize
it. But I was born to be a football of Dame Fortune! It
hag been nothing but a succession of ‘‘ out of the frying-pan
into the fire” since the first breath I drew, and this is the
Jast drop in the cup of my misfortunes! To think that I
lave gone through forty years of single blessedness, only to
be engaged to stv girls at one time! (@roans.) ll commit
suicide! No, I yvon’t—I’ll emigrate to Utah, and offer to fill
Brigham Young’s.place to the best of my ability; and Tl
take every six of them along! How did it happen? ‘The
dickens only knows; J don’t. One thing is certain; [didn’t
pop. They did it themselves... No, they didn’t, cither!
_ Yes, they did, too! There must be something awfully at-

_ tractive about me to the fairsex, Strange I never found it

 

 
THE DIME DIALOGUES,
f

out before! But, then, I’ve always avoided them. They're
fair and false. I never believed in women—at least not since
I got the mitten that winter eighteen years ago. It has last-
ed me; I never cried to find its mate, and now to think that
I have not only got to give it myself, but to divide it among
a half a dozen! Oh, ye gods and little fishes! How to Co
it—how can I explain that it is all a mistake—a horrib’e
mistake? T’ll tell them that I love them all—I mean, that 1
don’t love any of them—that I’m married already—wedded
to celibacy, you know—that I can’t support a wife—that I
have false teeth, a glass eye, a wooden leg, and dye my hair
_ —that the sheriff is after me for breaking the peace—that—
| (Enter boy, with note which he hands to Mr. B. Mr. B., open-
ing and reading it.) Now I am in for it! Just listen:
“Dearest WiLLIAM—Three days have passed since we last
met, when you avowed your love for me and I promised to
be yours, and I have not seen or heard from you since. Are
you ill? Do you doubt my love? But I will prove to you
that it is all your own. I have invited a few of my most
particular friends—Mamie Smith, Lottie Gilmore, Bessie
Jones, and one or two others, to spend this evening with us,
and shall take that occasion to announce our engagement.
Be sure to be with us early. Till then, adieu. Your own
Saprk.” Every one of them, those girls! It’s a conspiracy!
No, it can’t be. Well, I'll have to go and face it out. TU
be sued for breach of promise, of course; but, better that
than matrimony. Better anything than this terrible sus.
pense. Then catch me ever again in women’s society if you
can! (Heit )
(Curtain fails.)

CENE III.—Same as first, The six girls in evening dress —

Bessrz, What will he say and do? ;

Lorrie. Jt couldn’t have succeeded better. Girls, you ~
would have died could you have seen the look of utter resig-
nation which came over his face when, while he was button
ing my glove, he accidentally squeezed my hand, and 1
_ looked up into his face «ud murmured: ‘‘ Then you do loveme
dearest? Ihave long felt it must beso Fate could not hav —

«

 
UNFORTUNATE MR, BROWN.

been so cruel as to have kept us longer apar!.” He stam-
mered something about being engaged, and I told him it was
rather sudden, but of course, if he wished, it should be called
an engagement; and then my feelings overcame me g0, that
I had to excuse myself, and retire to the dressing-room,
when [| laughed till the tears ran down my face. (Zhe girls
all laugh and applaud.)

Lucy. Nothing could have gone better than our wooing
He actually forgot his bashfulness in expatiating on what h
would do were he rich, or if he could find some one to fur-
nish the capital while he would provide the brains—some
grand philanthropic scheme in the midst of which I sweet-/
ly interrupted him with the offer of my wealth and assistance,
He was so taken aback that he could hardly murmur his
thanks, but I told him to never mind, that we would con-
sider it a bargain and would throw in a little love, too, and
before he had time to answer, Mr. Butler very unfortunately
came up to claim me for that waltz, and every time the poor
fellow tried to get any way near me to explain matters, 1
managed to avoid him, and he hasn’t been near me since.
Was probably afraid to come to my own home for fear he’d
never get away unmarried! (Bell rings.)

Sapim. ‘There he is now! Girls, you should have come
earlier so that we would all have had time to tell our stories
and rehearse our different parts. All I have time to say is
that I have sent for him to-night for the express purpose of
announcing our engagement. Now | hope you'll all of you
be sufficiently horrified. .

(Enter Mr. Brown. SapdiE rushes up and offers to ae him
but he dodges her and looks wildly about.)

Sapre. Girls, you have all of you been wondering why
{ sent for you this evening, and | told you that I would ex
plam presently. Do youremember the agreement which we
mede as school-girls to confegs to one another as soon as we
were engaged? Well, my turn has come first, it seems.
(Going up and taking Mr, Brown by the hand. Allow me to
present to you my husband that is to be! (Zhe girls al rose
and look at jim in pretended astonishment.) 4

Bessie. (Screams). Why, he’s engaged to me/
User. He has promised to marry me/ ~

 

 
THE DIME DIALOGUES,

Mamiz. He told me he loved me!

Lorrrm. And me. (faints into her chair, and the guts ag
flock around, fanning her and giving her water, and looking dag:
gers at Mr. B., who makes a dive for the door.)

Savin. (Stepping to it and locking tt.) Mr. Brown, will
you be kind enough to explain matters? This shall be look-
ed into We have fathers and brothers who will not allow
our feelings to be trifled with in this manner. What do you
mean by engaging yourself to six different young ladies at
ouce? Are you a Mormon?

Brown. (Who has been looking around for a means of e

‘cape, and finding none, backs up against the wall.) -It’s all a
mistake—I can’t comprehend it. Jam the most unfortunate
victim of a combinatiou of circumstances. I never proposed
to any of you! d

Girts. (Jn chorus.) Yes, you did!

Mr. B. No, I didn’t You popped to me.

Sapim. Oh, you monster!

Brssigx. J’ll sue you for breach of promise.

Lorriz. (Recovering.) I shall die of a broken heart, 1
know.

Lucy. How dare you say we popped to you?

Mr. B. Well, didn’t you? didn’t you offer to share your
fortune and love with me?

Lucy. Only after you had expressed a desire that some
one would do so. :

Lorre. (Fuintly.) And didn’t you squeeze my handand J]
say something about being engaged. 3

Mr. B. Being engaged? Exactly so, but not to you.
To Miss Sadie here, who, after forcing a reluctant avowal of
love from my lips, almost compelled me to set the day —
(Groans and buries his face in his hands.) If it were Leap |
Year I could partially account for it. I believe youal be —
jong to a Woman’s Rights Association! Well, settle it
among yourselves. I’m engaged to all of you, and I'll
‘marry you all if ycu’ll only say so—anything for peace. I ©
will compromise any way, do anything in my power, but let —
me once get out of this! Good-evening. Miss Sadie, will you —
be so kind asto unlock the door? You all know my ad —
dress, as the number of love-letters which I’ve received in the

 
UNFORTUNATE MR. BROWN 48

last week will testify. If you can come to any agreement,
tet me know, and, in the meantime, I will be preparing my:
self for the worst. (Bows and exit.)

Sapm. What fearful creatures he must think us! Per
haps he’ll feel impelled to confide his sorrows to some bosom
friend, and then—

Lortrz. Then we would be punished. fJadie, call him
‘yack, quick! It’s plain to be seen that there is nothing left
“im but—as he said—to marry us all!

Bessiz. Unless we refuse to have him. (Sapte goes to the
door and calls.)

(Re-enter Mr. Brown, dejectedly, with hat and overcoas sy

Mr. B. Have you come to terms already?

Mamrs. J won't have you!

Tue OrnErRs. (In succession.) Nor I!

Mr. B. (Sinking into a chair.) Won't have met Wel)
here’s a go! : ‘

Sapir. (Coming forward.) Upon me, Mr. Brown, de
volves the most unpleasant duty of making you aware of the
fact that you have been a victim. Thatthe basest fraud has
been practiced upon you, and the conspirators have been ar-
rested and await their trial. (Zhe other girls all come forward
with great penitence and kneel before him, and he looks from one
to the other in bewilderment.)

Bessig. Yes, it is all true; we have been enjoying a joke
at your expense. Wedon’tone of us love you. Now, don’t
you feel badly? ;

Mr. B. (Jumping up.) By Jupiter! is it really so?
Girls, I could hug every one of you. (They all retreat.) Not
that I «2, though. What a goose I’ve been! And all the
ime I flattered myself that I was worth falling in love with!

Lortirzr. So you are? Don’t you see my heart is break
ing?

Mr. B. Well, run me to your heart’s content. I deserve .
it. I suppose I’ll never hear the last of it. I’ve half a
notion to punish you by holding some of you to your pro-
mise. e

Sap. Rather, let me propose this toast. A long and a
single life to Mr. William Brown. (Girls all surround hie —

ond epplaud, and curtain falls.) j ‘

 
‘THE DIME DIALOGUES,

THE REAL COST

FOR TWO GIRLS.

Scent I.—A school-room.
(Enter Mary and Lucy.)

Lucy. Iam going home at noon to-day.

Mary. What for?

L. To go shopping with mamma; it 1s quite time I had
my Fall hat.

M. But you have just had dark trimmings on your black
chip; why won’t that do for.a month, or so, and then have
your velvet?

L. Why, Mary, do you suppose J would do without a
Fall hat? I'd sooner cut my head off! ,

M. That is a rather strong expression to use about a
’ hat.
c L. Well, it’s about so. What are you intending to have?
M. Nothing at present; when it gets colder I shall buy
a@ new shape and put my last winter’s velvet and feathers
on it.
L. What! not to have a new hat! Why every one will
know the old trimmings.
M. What if they do? They are very nice.
L. Were, when they were new, you mean,
M. Yes, and are so, now. ‘They are a lovely color, and
gust match my cashmere.
L. But your cashmere is worn 6ut.
_M. Not at all.
_L. Why, you wore it to school, last spring!
M_ I know that; but it is clean, and if made over wity
_ iiik, will then be a good, substantial suit.
-  L Won’t you have any new dress at all? -
" M. Ob, yes. A plaid for every day, auee, and school
wear. / d
L. Plaids are so common!
_ M. What of that? What is the matter with you to-day,
Sal ‘ \
L. Better say what is the matter with you; you seem te
‘uave. adopted s some suanes notions, all of a sudden. :

 
THE REAL COST.

M. Not at all! Only I do not believe in discarding a
thing because one has worn it a season before, and People
will know it.

L. Well, I never heard of a girl in your position wearing
a dress two winters, for best!

M. Nevertheless, stranger things have happened.

L. Has your father shortened your allowance?

M. No; it is just the same as ever.

L. (Angrily.) I do believe you are growing miser‘y.

M. I am sorry to hear you speak so, Lucy; but we
won't be so foolish as to quarrel over a little matter of
dress.

L. No, we won't; but, I wonder what the other girls
will say?

M. It is of little importance what they say. With my
true friends it will make no difference, and the others may. go.

L. You are very independent. , Well, I want to see my
teacher before the bell rings, so I am off. (Zvit Lucy.) »

M. . Iam sorry Lucy has such ideas; they will lead to
future-extravagance, I am afraid, but she is good-hearted,
and a true friend, and I will endeavor to convince her that
there is some pleasure in the world if one is not dressed bet-
ter than others. It is kind of hard to have the girls speak
and act as they undoubtedly will, and hard to do without
that promised silk, but Sallie King sail have another quarter
or two of singing lessons and be fitted for the concert room, if
I don’t have a new dress for a year. There’s the bell. |

(Zxit.)

Sornp II.— The same. ,

L. Dear me, I don’t know where to- day’ s lessons are, 1
just had to guess at them. .
M. Where were you yesterday, that you were not at
school? fe
L. Oh, out after that bothersome hat, looking for &
dress. “yf
cee. But sd thought you did your shopping the day b'
fore? /
L. “Well, so I ao but i i was. : not suited,

 
THE DIME DIALOGUES,

M. Wasn’t a whole afternoon enough to choose a hat and
dress? :

L. Tlooked at hats and found that black and brown chips
were to be worn before felts and velvets, some of them just the
shape of mine, so mamma said she guessed I did not need a new
one; but I had set my heart on having it. Well, we hunted and
aunted until both got tired and cross, and mamma said |
should not have a new one, so I went home and cried myselt
m& Yesterday morning my head ached so that I couldn’t
cume to school, and, anyway, my lessons were not prepared.
In the afternoon mamma said that we would go out and get
our dresses, and after getting mine we came across a very
pretty bat that mamma purchased for me, so I am all right
now, ard you must come home with me this afternoon and
see my things, and pass judgment upon them, for I know
your taste is good.

M.. [ will go, certainly. But, Lucy, do you think the
hat was worth all this?

L. All what? ‘

M. How much did you pay for it?

L. Ten dollars.

M. Well, first there was the ten dollars, that might have
been saved, for you really did not need another, which sum
would have purchased you some handsome books, music, or
some other useful article.

L. (Aside.) That’s so. I might have bought that book
I have been wanting so long.

M. Then there was the worry to good mamma, who so
kindly humors all your whims. Then a crying spell, the re
sult of which was a sick head-ache. And last, but not least,
3 day and a half lost from school, just as you have com

menced the year, when a good start is everything, and every

10st day puts you back just so much.

L. Somehow or other you always seem to get at the right
side of everything. I did not see it in that light before, but
now I fully realize how silly it was to make such a fuss just
abovt a hat, and I shall take ten doJlars from my next quar
ter’s allowance and get a good warm dress for some poor girl
Yam determined to never again be so unreasonable about my
-wlothing Curtain falls.)

 
A BEAR GARDEN.

A BEAR GARDEN
FOR THREE MALES AND TWO FEMALES.

(Ourtain drawn discloses sitting room. Present, Mr. and Mra.
GROWLER, sitting.)
Mr. Growner. Ugh! Coldas Labrador. This house {s
“ways uncomfortable.

Mrs. GROWLER. Yes, when you're around,

Mr. G. Mrs. Growler, you’re a nuisance.

~Mrs. G. And you are a gentleman, I suppose?

Mr. G. I was when I married you.

Mrs. G. Yes, you pretended to be, but. your stoex of
gentility didn’t last long; it was very scant.

Mr. G.' Pity you married me.

Mrs. G. I might have done better without very much
search, but I could not, with a great deal of search, | have
found a greater boor than you have proven to be.

Mr. G. And I could not have found a greater vixen in
all the State than you, if I had tried.

Mrs. G. I’presume you could not have found in all the
State a woman more unwilling to submit to insults and in-
dignities. As you are utterly incapable of respect for a
wife’s good qualities, it would be a foolish waste of effort and
study to endeavor to please you; and as it requires no effort
or study to displease you, I don’t think the word vixen quite
relevant. Simply say you are a selfish boor and you have a
fact no one can gainsay.

(Enter Lucta.)

Mr. G. You hiss like an adder and sting like a hornet.

Mrs. G. And you growl like a bear and grunt like
ug.

Lucia, At # again? You are an affectionate couph
If a prize for dumestic felicity was offered you'd certainly —
win it.

Mr. G. Impertinence! Just like your mother Tvo
much wit for a fool ard too little sense for a vixen. I pity
the man who has to share a house with vou.

(Zinter CLATBORNE.)

L. Save your pity. My experience of the benign and

genia\ nature of my father, and the amiable tempers of my.

 

 

 

 
THE DIME DIALOGUES.

_ brother, has so fully satisfied me with the male sex, that ]
shall never inflict my affections or companionship upon anv
man. Better, a thousand-fold, the independence of a single
life than the yoked misery and slavery of connubial tyr-
anny s }

.CuarpornE. That’s the talk! Our Old Folks at Home
are such jolly bricks at a tongue-duel that you and®I, Lu-
Clu, can’t hope to excel ’em. I’ve done my best to hector
ans! spite you, as father does mother, but it’s no use; he ean
do more snarling and storming to the square inch than a mule.

‘driver, and I’ve made up my mind to get out of this—to’
seek some country where I can try my hand at making a

man of myself. It is now or never with me, so I’m off.

(Zzit.)

L. And TI, too, have determined to Jeave the old home
behind, me—never again to return. It is so wretched here
that I cannot do worse, go wher I will. (Zizit.)

Mrs. G. Agreeable, truly! We ought to congratulate
ourselves on the success we’v¢ had in making our own chil-
Geen unhappy. Mr. Growler, you’re a success. Now that
the children are going, I shall go too. I’m so tired of you—
so tired of worry and fret and trouble—that I would fly to
the furthermost corner of the world for a few years of peace.
You shall have no one to dispute your right to growl and be -
jisagreeable—to get up in the morning with asnarl and go
to bed at night with a roar; for you shall enjoy yourself,
from henoeforth, in your own way. (Zizit.)
Mr. G. Well, this is a pretty mess! Left alone—desert
ed by wife and children! Oh, 1’m an ill-used man.

(Enter Parson Barry.) — Je
Mr G. Ah, here’s the parson! Parson, I’m an outraged

Baan. : as
Parson. Indeed! What's the trouble, pray?
Mr. G. Trouble enough. My wife has gone off in a
- antrum, and my children have both left home, never to come
sack, Ar ; ;
_ P. And what induced them to that step?
Mrs. G. Well, they were dissatisfied.
P. Dissatisfied with what? Let us get at the root of the
bree to see what has done it injury. ;

 
A BEAR GARDEN,

Mr. G. They all cross me, and don’t mind me, and
thwart me. My wife has got tired of me, and my children
they are tired, tuo, of our family growls, so they both deter:
mined to go away; and my wife, she said she should go too,
so off they all have gone and left me here alone. Oh, it’s
outrageous ! Don’t you think so?

P. Cuan’t say that Ido,. It is the town’s talk that yer
are an unreasonable, hard, selfish man. You domineer ove:
shose you ought to favor; you are irascible, cross and irritat-
Ag when you ought to be kind, agreeable and cheerful; you
fret over small things and yet have never had any serious
trouble of any kind. You have health, wealth and every-
thing around you for comfort, yet are miserably unhappy
and make every soul in your household miserable. No, I do
not wonder that your children have sought another home, and
that your wife has grown so weary of you as to flee to find \
peace elsewhere. You are not the outraged man; rather
are you the one who has been outrageous. I cannot say I
am surprised at the final result; they who sow thistles and
cultivate briers cannot expect anything but such in return.

Mr. G. Well, 1 declare! You, too, come here and sax
this in my own house?

P. Certainly! Where else would I say it? On the
street? Inthe pulpit? As it is the truth—every word cf 1t,
and as the climax has come that every one of your veighbors
has expected, I see no good reason for giving you any sym |
pathy, or for suppressing the fact that the whole town will
justify the course your wife and children have seen fit to
adopt.

. Mr. G. And what, then, would you advise? I can’t
siay here alone.

P. What good is advice to one as self-willed, unreason
avle and cross-grained as you? J am a peace-maker, but t
make peace there must be a willingness to have it.

Mr. G. Oh, |’m willing, I am sure, to have peace.

P. Yes, if every one will submit their will to yours-—it -
no One will say you nay in all your violence and tyranny.

Mr. G. But, what if I won’t be so unreasonable as J
have been—what if I turn over a new leaf and conquer my
self—would that restore my family to me?

 
74) THE DIME DIALOGUES,

P. Certainly it would. Wife and children are fleeing to
find the happiness you have denied them here. Assure them
shat they shall be happy here and all will yet be well again,
{ can safely assume.

Mr. G. Oh, parson, in my heart I’m not so bad. I do
.ove my children, and my wife. I never can see them go
away from me. If they only could see the better side of
me!

P. Show it and they, and all others, will not only see it,
put be glad to associate with you in love and friendship.

Mr. G. Then, I commission you to make peace for me.
Here is my hand. (They clasp hands.) I pledge you that my
home shall no more be a bear garden—that I will surrender
my self-will to the good of others, and become a good hus-
band, father and neighbor.

‘Parson Barry claps his hands as a signal. Re-enter Mrs. G.,
Lucia and CLATBORNE.)

P. As your pastor and friend I bid you welcome to a
new home. (Takes their hands and locks them in with his own
and Mr. GROWLER’S.) This is a pledge of peace, forgiveness
and trust. Let all be love, for where love abideth there can
- come no unhappiness. Ag the father deeply regrets the past,
and will strive to make the future pleasant, so let his house-
hold be a household of kind hearts and good cheer. Of ill-
tempcr have no more; it is the bane of homes—the evil
genius of happiness and the author of suffering. Put it
down, and out, as if it were your worst enemy. Then al
thall be well. (Unclasps hands.) Peace be unto you! And
God bless you forever. (Zvit.)

(All stepping forward and clasping hands.)

Mr. G. Blessed are the peace-makers and the just men,
_ ?or at their coming whatever is ill forgets to be ill, and what
_ aver is good—that stays with us_ God bless the parson!

ALL. Amen! .
, = (Curtain falls.)

 
THE BUSY BEES.

THE BUSY BEES.
FOR FOUR LITTLE GIRLS.
(The four little girls discovered, or enter.)

Happy and gay, the live-long day,
Merry and bright and free;

With blithesome song, we’ll trudge along,
As busy as busy can be.

We must to work, and never shirk
The duties we have to do;

“The lazy one has never work done,” .
Is a saying I know to be true.

$3

vj t Ls 4
SS 8.

There is much to do. If we only knew
How easy it is to win

The generous love of the One above,
We never would want to sin.

We can sweep the floor, if nothing more,
And that will help dear mother;

The table clear and father cheer,
And please the baby brother.

We can spread the hay on a summer day,
Bring water from the well;

Help shell the peas, and never tease,
And to Johnny stories tell.

Indoors or out we'll keep about,
Like bees upon the wing;

We'll call work play, the live.ong day,
And chat, and laugh, and sing!

Then we naist haste, and never waste
The precious hours of day;

Dear mother’s care we now must share,
And work while yet we may.

Then when comes night, in beauty bright
When stars shine through the trees,

The Lord above will look with love
And bless us, busy bees!

(They go off, singing any pretty song which they

 
¢

THE DIME DIALOGUES.

CHECKMATE. ACTING CHARADE,

Characters :—Mr. Cornetivs Harn, an elderly gentlem: 1, dk
voted to chess; Mrs. Cornetius Hearn, an elderly laa,, de
voted to her son; Minnie Hearn, their daughter, aged ten ,
IsaBELLA Harcourt, Mr. Hearn’s ward, a young lady, wth
1 will of her own; Harry Harcourt, IsaBeua’s >rothe
wed twelve, also a ward of Mr. Hearu’s; ALBERT aMOb
[saBELLA’s lover, a young .sailor; JAMES, Mr. Hearn
Sootman,

Scent I.—CHECK-

Scrne.— The parlor of Mr. Hearn’s house. Curtain rises,
discovering Mr. Hearu seated before a table, with a chess-
board and an open book before him. Mrs. Heats, seated a
the other side of the stage, is sewing.

Mrs. Heatu. (Sighing.) Oh, dear!

Mr. Hearn. (Reading from the book, and moving a piece on
the chess-board.) This move puts the queen in check.

Mrs. H. (A Uittle louder than before.) Oh, dear!

Mr. H. (Moving another piece on the bourd.) Either way
the queen is in check; to the knight if I move the pawn, to
the castle if I take away the bishop.

Mrs. H. (Quite loudly.) Oh, dear!

Mr. H. (Looking wp suddenly.) Did you speak, my love?

Mrs. H. Speak, indeed! I’m sure nothing less than a

_ blast from a speaking-trumpet would rouse you, when you
* get out that hateful book and chess-board.
Mr. H. This is such a beautiful game, my dear.
Mrs. H. Nonsense! While you are studying your beau.
_ ifu. games, I have all the torment and worry of the house
old upon my shoulders. Iam nearly worn to death.

Mr. H. Why, my dear, I was not aware—

Mrs. H. No, of course you were not aware ~f anything
put pawns, and bishops, and castles.

Mr. H. But what is tormenting and worrying you? ~
_ Mrs. H. Isabella Harcourt.

Mr. H. My ward? ;

- Mrs. H. Yes, your ward; a great hoydenish, romping
_ country girl, who won’t wear a dress like anybody else’s, iets

¢
}

 
CHECKMATE. /;

¢

her hair hang in great, long blousy curls like a mi‘kmaid,

talks slang like a stable-boy; and wow, to crown all, coolly ~

informs me that she is engaged to be married to Albert
Amory, a common sailor that she met in Maizeville.

Mr. H. Engaged to be married! Why, my dear, you
surely told me that Reginald—

Mrs. H. Now don’tdrive me crazy at once. Of course
I supposed Reginald was secure, if he proposed, and I count
ed apon her fortune for the dear boy’s future support. I
she had only come to me in the first place, as soon as her
father died.

Mr. H. But you know, my dear, her father expressly
desired that she should go to Maizeville, to her uncle’s, for,
four years, to restore her health,

Mrs. H. Well, she is healthy enough now—vulgarly so,
I think. Just listen!

Isa. (Behind, the scenes, sings very loudly.)

‘*JT should like to marry,
If that I could find
Any little husband
Just suited to my mind!
But he must be handsome,
And he must be good!
Or I'd send him right-about
Yes, indeed, [ should!”

Mrs. H. That’s a pretty song for a yang lady of eigh-

téen to sing, now, isn’t it?

Mr. H. I think her lungs are quite sound.

Mrs. H. She is a bigger Tomboy than her brother, at this
moment. She quite defies me.. When I told her she musé
tive up this low sailor fellow, she informed me that her

incle approved of the match, and she would marry him if _

she had to elope to do it. 7}
Mr. H. Elope! ;
Mrs. H. So I have had to watch her constently. Fer-
tunatcly, Mr. Amory has gone away now for a few days, so
I can feel at ease for a little while.
Enter ISABELLA, in a walking dress. She wears a short sack:
with packets in front, into which her lunds wre thrust. Uf @

af

als fl

 
\THE DIME DIAIOGUES.

young lady cun be found for this part who can enter whistling
tt will udd to the effect?)

Isa. (Aside.) Now what is Mrs, Heath doing here at this
- time of day? I thought she was safe in her own room.

Mrs. H. Pray, may Tinquire, Miss Harcourt, what you
have on your walking dress for?

Isa. Certainly you may inquire)

Mrs. H. Well?

Ka. Quite well, I thank you.

Mrs. H. I asked you what you had put on your withing
dress for.

Isa. Oh! I put it on to walk in.

Mrs. H. Did I not expressly forbid you to leave the
house unless I accompunied you?

Isa. You may accompany me if you like. Tam going
as far as the post-office. It would be rather an accommoda-
tion if you would hurry a little in getting ready.

Mrs. H. I never beard such brazen impudence in all my
life. You will not go out to-day, Miss Harcourt.

Tsa.. (Aside.) Check number one. How can I get this
letter in the post-office?

Mr. H. (Abdstractedly.) The pawns are very important
when the larger pieces are held in check. :

Isa. So theyare! I have it! (Zhrows off her hat and sack.)
There are more ways of killing a cat than those imagine who
choke her to death with pudding.

Mrs. H. I never heard such disgusting vulgarity in my
life!

Isa. Well, if you'll grease your ears and button them
*ack, you can hear some more.

Mrs. H. Mr. Heath, how long am I to be insulted in my

wn house?

Mr H. (Abdsenily.) Certainly, my dear, it is your own
xettled on you when we were married.

_ Mrs. H. Tasked you if there was no check to be put
upon this girl’s saucy tongue?
_ Mr. H. (Reading.) The knight thus gives check to the
queen. _
_ Mrs. H. (Rising.) I declare between you, you are
_ epeugh to drive one mad! (Heit Mrs. Heatn.)

 
z CHECKMATE. 58

Mr. H. (Rising.) My dear! my dear! I am sure I did
not intend—dear me, she is vexed! I must go and see what
is the matter. (Zeit Mr. HEATH.)

Isa. Ha! ha! ha! Poor fellow! He’s not henpecked
any. Oh, no! And now for my letter. Albert must know
how the land lies) Thanks to Mr. Heath’s hint, I remember
my pawn. Harry is devoted to Albert, so I will take him
into my confidence.

(Enter Minntz.)

Min. (Sobdbing.) Oh, dear! Oh, dear!

Isa. Why, Minnie, what is the matter? ,

Min. Oh, Belle, you know my big wax doll that opens
and shuts its eyes, this way. (Standing erect, facing audience,

and winkiny very fast.) 5

Tsa. Yes, I know.

Min. Well, she’s all melted on her cheek and nose by
the fire. (Sols gain.) They went and built up a rousing big
fire in the nursery and never moved her chair away.

Isa. What a pity! Where’s Harry, Minnie?

Mis. In the nursery, doing a sum.

Isa. Well, don’t cry any more, Minnie, and I will give
you another doll twice as big as that one.

Min. Truly?

Isa. Yes, truly. Now, won’t you do something for me?

Min. = Yes, indeed I will.

Isa. Won’t you,go to the nursery and send Harry to me?
Tell him to come quick, and not tell anybody that I want
him.

Mr. I'll tell him. (Heit MINNIE.) _

Isa. (Taking a letter from her pocket.) He must mail this

er me, and get Albert’s. (Rummaging in her pocket.) Where
my post-office check? He can’t get my letters without
_ that. (Hmptying her pockets.) ere’s my handkerchief and
| trunk key, and -bird whistle, and paper of chocolates, and
_ Jewsharp, and piece of chewing-gum, and thimble, and comie
_ song-book, and concert tickets—l’ll give those to Harry <=
_ and pocket comb, and—here is my check /
(Curtain faus.)

j

 
t

THE DIME DIALOGUES.

Scene II.—Marts.

Scanz.—Same as Scene 1. Curtain rises, discovering Muaxrs
seated on a low seat nursing a large waa doh.

Min. You beautiful darling! Who would have thought —
that Belle had you in that great white box ever since she was
f little girl herself? Why, you are most as old as lam, yo
wear, pretty dolly!

; (Enter Harry, walking on et.

Har. Minnie!

Mrx. Why, what is the matter? You oa so funny

Har. Fuuny? ‘

Yes, so serious and important.
Minnie, can you keep a secret?

Vin. Oh, yes; tell me, quick!

Har. (Drawing two chairs forward, facing audience.) Well,
come sit here by me, then, and put away that great, ugly
doll. (Sits down.)

Mix. Ugly! She is perfectly beautiful.

Har. Is she? Put her down, anyhow.

(Minnie puts the doll carefully upon the sofa.)

Min. = (Sitting down beside Harry.) Now tell me the se
cret, quick!

Har. Sister Belle’s got a beau.

Min. Pshaw! I knew that long ago. It is brother
Reginald. ‘

‘Har. No, it ain’t! That’s the fun of it! And he’s
vuoming to see her to-day, when your mother is gone to the
concert. She had a letter from him this morning; I got it
wit of the post-office, and he is coming at four o’clock, an@

--and—ain’t it fun, Minnie? s

Min Fun?-

Har Why ges, humbugging ep mother so! She
8 going t’ marry him, you know; and only think, Minnie,
he's been appointed mate to one of the biggest ships in New
‘York.

Min. What is a mate, Harry?

_Har. I don’t know, but it is something very grand, for —
Belle clapped her hands when she read it, and told me right —

 
££

CHECKMATE, | nn

‘

Isa. (Behind the scenes.) You can show any one who

' asks for me into the parlor, James.

Har. Oh, Belle is coming! Oh, Minnie, let’s you and I

get under the table and see them make love. It’s not listen-
_ ing, you know, because Belle told me all about it, and I told
— you.

Mr. But—
Har. Come, quick, or they’ll catch us.

_ Harry drags Minnie to the table, and they both hide under @,

pulling the cover down to conceal them.)
(Enter IsABwLUA.)
Isa. All well, so far. What a jewel Harry is, to be sure.
He will be delighted, too, if we succeed in eluding Mrs.

} WHeath’s vigilance. Dear Albert! I wonder if a mate can
>

take his wife to sea with him.

(Enter ALBERT.)
AuBert. Dear Bella!
Isa. (Rising to welcome him.) Dear, dear Albert!
Au. You are well, darling?
Isa. Yes, dedrest, and you? You-look a little pale, my

_ own love.

Dino.

Au. Only fatigue, ae Bella. I-traveled- all. night, you

Isa. Do be careful of your health, for my sake, dear.

Au. Did you receive my note?

Isa. I did. ee

Au. And will you consent, darling?

Isa. You know I promised, Albert, if: my guardian op
posed our marriage, to elope with you. I will keep my

_ word.
A

Au, (Kissing her.) My darling!
Isa. I have now some five hundred dollars in money, and
vts of jewelry. This will suffice us until my guardian is re-

c conciled to the match, and pays my allowance.

_ Did I not write to you that I am now mate of the Albatross,

Au. Do you suppose I mean to live on your money, pet?

and she does not sail for six weeks.’ She is undergoing re-

E

pairs now, in New York harbor, so we can enjoy a long
Emomesmon before we sail.
, ie Oh, dear! does the mate have to go to aan

 
THE DIME DIALOGUES.

Au. Well, generally. j
Isa. Then you can’t be mate. You must stay at home.
Au. We will talk about that after we are married. You |

will be all ready this evening, and J will have a carriage F

waiting. Steal out when I whistle: ‘‘ Down the burn, fF
Davy love,” and we will take the midnight train for New 7
York. ;

Isa. I will be all ready. j

Mrs. H. (Behind the scenes.) With a gentleman in thé
parlor?

Isa. Oh! there is Mrs Heath. How can you get out?

Au. (Going to the window.) Here is a grape-vine frame, ©
und I am a sailor. Good by till evening. (Opens the window
and goes out as if upon the grape-vine frame.)

Isa. I haven’t time for a row with Mrs. Heath, I must
go and pack my sachel. (Zvit IsaABELLA.)

Har. (Peeping out from under the table.) Come out,
Minnie. (Comes out.) : :

Min. (Creeping out.) Oh, Harry! Oh! when I’m a
grown woman I mean to have a beau and run away to New
York. Wouldn’t it be fun? \

Har. (Very gravely.) Minnie?

Min. Well, Harry? 4

Har. Let’s you and I run away now. What’s the use

of waiting till we’re grown up? I can take care of you now. |

(Umitating ALBERT.) - Dear Minnie.
Min. (Rushing into his arms.) Dear, dear Harry.
Har. You are well, Minnie, darling?
Min. Iam well. But you? You look a little pale, my
dear love. 2
_ Har. I am only tired, my Minnie, Iam going to travel
all night, you know.
Min. Do be careful of — precious health, for my
sake, Harry. :
Har. (Taking out his sted book.) Let me see, my pet,
how much money I have got. (Cownting.) Ten, fifteen, —
twenty-five, fifty—one dollar aud fifteen cents, two postage ©
stamps, and a button. :
Min. I haven’t got any money, but there is my set of |
_ corals and the bracelet Reginald gave me last Christmas. _

7

 
  

CHECKMATE. 59

   

 

  

_ Har. Splendid! We shalldo famously. | Shall we elope
_ tonight, Minnie, dearest? 4
_ My. Yes. We can follow Belle, you know.
| Har Oh, yes. They are going in a carriage, and I can
- catch on behind.
Mr. But I can’t.
: Har. Can’t you? Well, I know where the New Yerk
_ depot is, anyhow, so we can walk,
Min. Where can we go when we get to New York,
| ~ Harry? ;

Har. Oh! we'll speak to Belle when we get on the cars,
} and Tl get Albert to have me made a mate, too.
Min. But Albert said a mate had to go to sea.
Har. He said generally ; perhaps they'll let us stay at

  
  
   
   
   
  
  

. home. ;
; Mix. But if they won’t have you fora mate, Harry, what
5 then? 3

 

Har. Well, then, I must open a store like uncle Wil-
liam’s, and sell dresses, and shawls, and such things. You
can have all you want, Minnie, for nothing.
May. [like that best.
(Enter Mrs. HEatu.)

Mrs. H. What are you children doing in the parlor?

Har. (Drawing himself up.) Children! (Aside to Min-
nig.) We know what we know, don’t we, Minnie?

Min. Yes, we do. And heaps more besides.

Mrs. H. Go up to the nursery, both of you.

Har. (Aside.) She'll soon see if we are children. Iam
an engaged man. (Hait Harry.)
| & Min. (Zaking up her doll.) Ym going. (Aside.) Iwon-
der what she will say when she hears I’m a married woman
in New York. Children! (Aloud) Come, you precious,
darling dolly, come. | (Zxit Minnie.)

Mrs. H. Dear me! I’m sure one’s own ,children are
worry enough, without having those of other people to look
after. Now there’s Reginald going to let Isabella’s fortune
slip through his fingers, because he won’t force her inclina-
tions, And Mr. Heath is no help at all. But to morrow

   
  
   
  

  

 

have no more of this sailor lover of hers. She informed me

Miss Harcourt goes with me to Saratoga, and I hope I shall

   
      
   
       
 

        
     
         
         
         
       
       
     
THE DIME DIALOGURA

to-day that she had heard he was going to he mate wu .ne
Albatross.’ Now, if I can only keep her cortented at Sara
toga till he sails upon a long voyage, she will he sme ty
forget him before he comes back; thus we'll be ~iVot th
mate.

(Curtain falls.)

Scent III.—CrEcKMATE.

SceNE.—Same as Scene I. Mr. Heatn sected ot a tabie
with a chess-board and open book before him. Mrs. BEATE
reading. Curtain rises slowly. After a moments pause, 4
clock 73 heard striking midnight. °

Mrs. H. Twelve o’clocks! (Yawns.) Whata Jong, tire-
some evening this has been. But it will be the last for some
time, my dear!”

Mr. H. (Adsently.) | Yes, dear. \

Mrs. H. I think, considering that this is my last eveniag

at home for a month or six weeks, that I had a right to ex-

pect a little attention from my husband. ,

Mr. H. Yes, dear. True, truc, I have been a little ab
sorbed, I believe. So you are really going to-morrow?

Mrs. H. Dear me! I have told you fifty times that I
must get Isabella away before the low sailor fellow comes back
again. He may come home any day, but he will not find
her here. 7

Mr. H. But he may follow her to Saratoga.

. Mrs. H. Ifhe knows she is there. But 1 will take good

care that he does not Know.

Mr. H. But you cannot stay at Saratoga forever.

Mrs. H. Of course not. But we can stay there until
nis vessel sails. Gla, my pian now is perfect, and Reginald
will win the heiress yet ,

(Enter Jamus, leading Harry and Minnie; Harry kicking and
struggling, MINNIE sobbing loudly. Harry wears his overcoat —
and hat, and has in his hands a bat and ball, and a pasr of —
skates ; MINntE carries her waa doll.)

Jas If you please, ma’am— ;

“Har. Let me > BO, you great hateful fellow! (Tritehing —

 
CHECKMATE.

away from James.) ‘The next time you want to elope, Miss
Minnie, you may go by yoursclf. If it hadn’t been for that
great heavy doll, we would have been in time for the train.
F Mon. It ain’t a bit heavier than your ugly old bat and
_ skates. The idea of taking skates in summer.

Jas. If you please, ma’am—

Har. You be quiet, you old meddling fellow!

Mrs. H. I should like to know what all this means.

Jas. Yes,ma’am. If you please—

Mix. You don’t know anything wvout it.

Mr. H. (Reading and moving @ chessman.) This prevents
the knight from protecting the queen.

Mrs. H. What are your childrem doing out at this hour?

Min. and Harry. If that horrid old James—

Jas. Indeed, ma’am— 5

Mrs. H. (in a loud, angry tone.) Silence,-all of you!
James, where did you find these children?

Jas. At the New York depot, ma’am, where I went to
see my cousin off.

Mrs. H. And pray, what were you two children doing
at the New York depot? ;

Har. I was eloping with Minnie, and, if she hadn’t drag-
ged along that great hateful doll, we might have been in New
York by this time. ioe

Mrs. H, Eloping! » What on earth does the boy mean? |

Min. He means running away to get married, mamma.

Mus. H. What is the world coming to? Take them up-
gtairs, James, where they will stay for one week on bread and :
water. ; :

Har. I won't go.

Min. I will, for (yawning) ’'m so sleepy I can scarcely
keep my eyes open. (Hait Minnie.)

Mr. H. (Reading) ‘This clears the board of all the un-
important pieces, and brings the game to a focus.

Mrs. H. (Zo Harry.) And now, I would like to know,
what excuse can you give for your conduct?

Har. I don’t see why Minnie and I shouldn’t elope as
well as sister Belle and Albert Amory.

Mrs. H. Your sister and Albert Amory! Eloped!
When? Where? | z :

 
THE DIME DIALOGUES.

Har. To-night, to New York.

Mrs. H. I shall certainly faint. Do you hear that, Mr
Heath? s

Mr. H. What is it? Did you speak to me, my dear?

Mrs. H. Speak to you! Don’t you hear what this awful
bad boy says? After all my plans, everything arranged so
nicely, here this dreadful child says his sister has eloped tw

ight with her low sailor lover. i

Mr. H. So all your schemes fall to the ground.

Mrs. H. It is too vexatious. Go to bed, you pad hoy

Har. (Yaoning.) Well, 1 believe I will.

(Heit Harry.)

Mr. H. The queer is lost now. '

Mrs. H. I wish you would put by that horrid chess, and
tell me what I am to do

Mr. H. Do, my dear? Why, if your fine plans have
proved useless, and the game is lost, you must do as I do.

Mrs. H. What is that?

Mr. H. Submit to a checkmate.

(Curtain falls.)

' SCHOOL-TIME.

FOR TWO LITTLE GIRLS.

/

(Muxnie and Krrvre enter.)

Kirtre. Come, Minnie, get your hat at once,

And come with me to school;

Tis only she who’d be a dunce
Would wish to break the rule

_To be quite early in one’s seat
The teacher says is right;

To see us looking clean and neat
Will always please her sight.

Td rather far be playing, ©
_ And through the meadows straying,
And watch our father haying,
Than ever go to school!

 
 
 

 
  

 
  
 
 
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

 

SCTIOOL-TIME.

I care not for one’s praises;
I'd rather rove ’mong daisies,
Wand’ring thro’ the meadows’ mazea,
Than ever mind the rule!

Oh, Minnie! It is wrong for you
To speak of one so kind;

I want you to-grow good and true—
The teacher always mind.

Our holidays are over now
And we must try to learn;

With teachers kind to show us how
We can our “ merits” earn.

Papa might call it “‘ treason,”

But J do not see the reason,

At such a pleasant season,
That I have to go to school;

The sparrows all are flying,

Bees on their pleasure hieing,

Even “chicks” their wings are trying~-
They have to mind no “rule,”

Oh, Minnie, do you know Jim Hall?
From school he stayed away;

fle never learned when he was small,
So cannot read to-day!

You would not wish to grow like him,
And hear the neighbors say:

“ That girl’s as stupid as old Jim—
She’s much too fond of play.”

How foolish was I seeming, .
When the lamp of youth is gleaming-
How wrong to spend life dreaming!

I was acting like a dunce;
After school we’ll do our straying;
We've time enough for playing;
No more we'll be delaying,
But haste to school at once!

a a asa a aa a Sie nt ra

   
   
 
 
 
 
     
    

 
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
     
   
   

   
    
   
    

  
   
  
  
  
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
    
 
  
    
  

   

THE DIME DIALOGUES.

DEATH SCENE.*
FROM ‘' THE TRAGICAL HISTORY OF DR. FAustUs.”

(Enter Faustus with ScHOLARS.)

Favustus. Ah, gentlemen!

First Scuouar. What ails Faustus?

F. Ah, my sweet chamber-fellow, had I lived with thee
then had I lived still; but now I die eternally! Lock, come
ue not? comes he not?

SEconD ScuoLtar. What means Faustus?

Tuirp ScuonarR. Belike he is grown into some sicknesa
by being over solitary.

F. 8. If it be so, we'll have physicians to cure him.
Tis but a surfeit; never fear, man: -

F. A surfeit of deadly sin, that hath damne? toth body
and soul.

§, 8. Yet, Faustus, look up to heaven; remember God’s
mercies are infinite.

F. But Faustus’ offense can ne’er be pardoned; the ser-
pent that tempted Eve may be saved, but not Faustus. Ah, -
gentlemen, hear me with patience and tremble not at my
speeches! Though my heart pants and quivers to remember

, that I have been a student here these thirty years, oh, would

I had never seen Wertemberg, never read book! and what
wonders I have done, all Germany can witness, yea, all the
world; for which Faustus hath lost both Germany and the
world, yea, heaven itself—heaven, the seat of God, the throne
of the blessed, the kingdom of joy—and must remain in hell
forever—hell, ah, hell, forever! Sweet friends, what shall
become of Faustus, being in hell forever?

T. S. Yet, Faustus, call on God.

F, On God, whom Faustus hath abjured! On Gal
whom Faustus hath blasphemed! Ah, my God, I wouid
weep! but the devil draws in my tears. Gush forth blood,
instead of tears! yea, lifeand soul! Oh, he stays my tongue!
I would lift up my hands; but see, they hold them, they hold
them! ;

* This fine stage scene is introduced for practice in the higher elements
of dramatic art. It is especially commended to Thespian Societies and
Amateur Dramatic Clubs. If well put on the school-stage (and its mere
adjuncts are simple) it will give some masterful boy a chance to displaa
bis dramatic powers,

 
  

DEATh SCENE.

 
   
 

/ ‘
Aut. Who, Faustus?

F. Lucifer and Mephistopheles. Ah, gentlerien, I gave
- em my soul for my cunning.

Att. God forbid!

F God forbade it, indeed; but Faustus bath done it;
for tain pleasure of twenty-four years hath Faustus lost eter- '
val joy and felicity. I writ them abill with mine own blood: 3 |
ae date is expired; the time will come, and he will fetch i

       
          
 
 

By

 
     
   
   
    

me. oa
_ F §_ Why did not Faustus tell us of this before, that =

a |. tivines might have prayed for thee? a
F Oft have I thought to have done so; but the devil 4

   

threatened to tear me in pieces if I named God, to fetch both a
} body and soul if I once gave ear to divinity; and now ’tis :
' too late. Gentlemen, away, lest you perish with me. :
8. S. Oh, what shall we do to save Faustus? a
F. Talk not of me, but save yourselves, and depart.
T. S God will strengthen me;I will stay with Faustus.

 
         
     
   
   
 
   

; FS. Tempt not God, sweet friend; but let us into. the: 4
next room, and there pray for him. ¥
F. Ay, pray for me, pray for me; and what noise so- “4

ever ye hear, come not unto me, for nothing can rescue me. oF

 
 

§. S. Pray thou, and we will pray that-God may have
mercy upon thee. i
F. Gentlemen, farewell; if I live till morning, I'll visit
_ yoa: if not, Faustus is gone to hell. ~ :
Be Au. Faustus, farewell.
Ee (Hxeunt Scuotars—the clock in clover, )
F. Ah, Faustus.
Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,
And then thou must be damn’d perpetually!
Stand still, you ever-moving spheres of heaven,
That time may cease, and midnight never come;
| Fair Nature’s eye, rise, rise again, and make
‘| Perpetual day; or let this hour be but
A year, a month, a week, a natural day,
That Faustus may repent and save his soul!
0 lente, lente currite, noctis equi !
fhe stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike,
The devil will come, and Faustus must be damn’d!

 
   
      
   
       
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
   
      
THE DIME DIALOGUES.

Oh, I'll leap up to my God! -- Who pulls me down?—
See, see, where Christ’s blood streams in the firmament!
One drop would save my soul, half a drop, ah, my Christh=
Ah, rend not my heart for naming of my Christ!
Yet will I call on him: Oh, spare me, Lucifer!—
Where is it now? ’tis gone: and see, where God
Stretcheth out His arm, and bends his ireful brows!
fountains and hills, come, come, and fall on me,
nd hide me from the heavy wrath of God!
No, no!
Then will I headlong run into the earth:
Earth, gape: Oh, nd, it will not harbor me!_
You stars that reign’d at my nativity
Whose influence hath allotted death and hell,
Now draw up Faustus, like a foggy mist,
Into the entrails of yon laboring cloud,
That, when you vomit forth into the air,
- My limbs may issue from your smoky mouths,
So that my soul may but ascend to heaven! 5
(the clock strikes the half-howr.)
Ah, half the hour is past! ’twill all be past anon.
9h, God,
af Thou wilt not have mercy on my soul,
Yet for Christ’s sake, whose blood hath ransom’d me,
Impose some end to my incessant pain;
Let Faustus live in hell a thousand years,
A hundred thousand, and at last be sav’d!
Oh, no end is limited to damned souls!
Why wert thou not a creature wanting soul?
Or why is this immortal that thou hast?
hh, Pythagoras’ metempsychosis, were that true,
nis soul should fly from me, and I be changed
nto some brutish beast! all beasts are happy,
For, when they die,
Their souls are soon dissolv’d in elements;
But mine must live still to be plagued in hell
Curs’d be the parents that engender’d me!
No, Faustus, curse thyself, curse Lucifer
That hath depriv’d thee of the joys of heaven.

(The clock strikes twelee.

 
 

 

  

DEATH SCENE.

Oh, it strikes, it strikes! Now, body, turn to air,
Or Lucifer will bear thee quick to hell!
(Thunder and lightning.)
Oh, soul, be chaaged into little water-drops,
_ And fall into the occan, ne’er be found!
(Enter DEvt1Ls.)
_ My God, my God, look not so fierce on me!
_ Adders and serpents, let me breathe awhile!
Tgly hell, gape not! come not, Lucifer!
211 burn my books!—Ah, Mephistopheles!
(Heeunt DEVILS with ao
(Curtain falls.)

 
 

ArreR Scene.—(Ie-enter SCHOLARS.)

F. 8. Come, gentlemen, let us go visit Faustus,
Fcr such a dreadful night was never seen;
_ Since first the world’s creation did begin,
' Such fearful shrieks and cries were never heard;
Pray Heaven the doctor have escap’d the danger.
8. S. On, help us, Heaven! see, here are Favstus’ limbe
All torn asunder by the hand of death!
(Holds up what seem to be the dissevered limbs of Ft ustus.)
T.S. The devils whom Faustus serv’d have torn hin
thus;
For ’twixt the hours of twelve and one, methought
I heard him shriek and call aloud for help;
At which self time the house seem’d all on fire
With dreadful horror of these damned fiends.
S. 8. Well, gentlemen, though Faustus’ end be such
\: every Christian heart laments to think on,
Yet, for be was a scholar, once admired
For wondrous knowledge, in our German schools,
We'll give his mangled limbs due burial;
And all the students clothed in mourning black,
Shall wait upon his heavy funeral.
(Enter Master.)
MasTer. Cut is the branch that might have grown ful

straight,

 
 
   

  
388 THE DIME D7ALOGUES

And burned is Apoilo’s laurel bough,

That sometime grew within this learned man.

Faustus is gone: regard his hellish fall,

Whose tiendful fortune may exhort the wise,

‘Only to wonder at unlawful things,

Whose. deepness doth entice such forward wits

To practice mo.e than heavenly power permits. (Hed,

DROSS AND GOLD.

FOR SEVERAL CHARACTERS, MALE AND FEMALE.
(Enter Aunt Ann, reading letter.)

Aunt A. What! my boyegone and got a wife? Well,
if that don’t beat me! That Ben Bacon should have done
sach a thing, an’ never let me know nothin’ of it until he
ups and writ’s me that he’s married, an’ a-comin’ to visit me!
Oli, dear, but it’s mis’able business—this gettin’ married!
No end of werry, an’ trouble, an’ expense. If boys would
only mind the*~ business, an’ let the gals alone, there wouldn’t
be half the marriages there is, an’ that would be a comfort!
New wives means new everything, an’ a new state of things
means that the mother’s got to git around an’ wait on others
besides her own. I'll not dc it—sc I won't! Ben’s wel-
- come to ce 1e an’ bring his wife, but she’s jist got to help

herself, an’ be helpful. I do wonder what she is like? Why
couldn't he, if he must be a fool, have married one of the
gals arour | here that’s wanted him ever so long? No; he
cust go’ ff an’ tackle onto one of them city gals, what’l
naxe bim dance toa pretty tune, or I miss my guess. Le
me see. He’s a-comin’-—when? (Looks at letter.) Why,
viess me, it’s today! ‘This letter’s been layin’ at the office
two whole dayz, an’ here it’s Thursday, and not a thing done
to get ready! Hark! there’s a wagon a-comin’ up the lane,
(Zastens.) An’ voices a-laughin’ an’ screechin’ jist like a
weddin’ party! ( Voices outside.) Bless me, an’ I ain’t dressed,
or ready, or aiything, an Pap’s gone to town, an’ Lizzie’s
evay! Oh, what a pickle!

 
  

DROSS AND GOLD. @

_ UEnock and noise. outside. Enter Bun and his bride and her
gz mother, and six sisters. and three brothers.)
Ben. Mother! Here we are! Home agaiu! And I’ve
brought you a new daughter that you'll love very dearly;
and this is her mother, Mrs. De Jackinson, and these are her
_ sisters and brothers, come to spend the suramer with us, to
ret us well started on our way; and, oF. it's so nice to ¥ rvs
4 big family! .

Mrs. DE J. Oh, yes; and I hope y«7’ll make it plearam
for us, for, you see, it was quite a con/escension for one of
my daughtersy to marry a young mea from the country,
(Looking around.) You are very plaia people, I perceive.
My daughter, I fear you nave made a great mistake in
_ marrying a countryman,
ist Sister. Oh, dear, this is dreudful— coming here to
- spend the summer, instead of going +» Long Sranch!

2p Sister. Or Newport.

3p SisrER. Or Saratoga.

4ru Sister. Or Niagara. : /

5ru Sisrer, Or Paris.

6TH Sister. Or Italy.

Aut. Oh, dear!

Mrs. DE J. Yes, dears—a great sierrfice you all made;
but it was necessary, in order to keep voor Marcia from de-
spondency. I hope everything will be done to make us for-
get the miserable mistake she has made. J suppose our
rooms are ready for us, Mrs, Bacon?

ist Sister. Bacon! What a name!

E ist BrorHer Suggests Pork.
et 2p BroTHER. Hog and Hominy.
| ~—- 8p BrorHer. (Makes noise like pig yrunting.)
; Aunt A. On, Ben, what have you done!
EE Ben. Married iuto a first-class family.

a Aunt A. A first-class menagerie—a set of precious foola
Great thing you have done! And have brought your show
here for me to entertain? Much entertaining [ll do for this
set of upstarts.

ist Broruer. I say, old lady, dry up on that, or Tl)

  

 
    
 

Cee

  
   
  
  
  
   
   
  

 

 

¥ will ‘inner be served? | Where j isthe butler? 1 want a botu

 

 

 

F put a stopper in your mouth. Where are our rooms? Wher |

      
   
          
      

 

 
     
     
       
     
     
     
       
 
      
     
       
       
   
  
  
   
 
    
   
   
   
  
   
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
 
    
   
  

 

    
 

   

%O THE DIME DIALOGUES.

of claret to get this abominable country dust out of my
throat.

Apnr A. Claret? You simpleton. If you stay here
you'll drink cider, an’ be your own butler, an’ boot-black,
an’ servant; an’ you, you Miss Shoddies, if you stay here,
you'll do your own work, cookin’ an’ all. Ben’s been a
fool, worser’n an idiot, to step out of his family to marry
into sich a set—that’s my opinion.

Mrs, De J. Oh, this is too much! That one of my
children should have brought this humiliation on me.

Aunt A. That my son should have brought this humili-
ation on his honest, hard-workin’ parents by marryin’ a do-
nothin’, an’ submittin’ tosich insolence! Ef he’s got a spark
of the old Bacon spirit in him, he’ll tell you all to git.

Mrs. De J. What vulgarity!

Ben. (Zo Mrs De J.) Madam, your coarseness and ar-
rogance toward me is forgiven for my love for your daugh-
ter, but when you and your children presume to insult my own
good mother, it is time for her son to assert himself. My duty
to her is paramount, even to my duty to my wife. No true
son will ever permit any one to insult his mother. Now I
say to you you are insolent, ill-bred and vulgar. You and
your children, by word and demeanor, have become offensive
to me, and I never will again place myself in a position to
merit my own mother’s contempt by submitting to your igno-
rant pride and miserable pretense of superiority. My wife
must choose between me and her family. Here I shall re-
main, and here she must live, if she loves me truly enough
to let my home be her home. If she prefers the false, and
fickle, and silly life of your false, fickle and silly circle, she
shall see no more of me, and may at once consider herself
at full liberty to return with you. Let her choose.

Ist Sister. Oh, the stupid! As if Marcia would stay
here and become a farmer’s drudge!

ist Broruer. With this old ’un for a mother-in-law.

OrHER Broruers. Ha! ha!

Mrs. De J. The boor! That ever a daughter of mine
could have been so deceived.

Marcia. Enough of this. (Advancing to Aunt ANN.)
Mother Bacon, Iam your gon’s wife. I have, little by little,

fa

 

 
DROSS AND GOLD.

ander his guidance, learned to see life in its truth and reality.
But that is all passed now. Here I stay, if you will Jet me
ye to you a good daughter, and Ben will let me be a good
helpmeet and wife. His home shall be my home—his lot
my lot. I love him for his honesty and worth, and if he
loves me for myself alone, I shall try to be worthy of that
love. May I stay?

Aunt A. (Grasping her hand.) Nobly spoken, chil
» (Kisses her.) You have the true grit in you, I can see, a
I'll love you, not only for Ben’s sake, but for your own sake.
Stay with us, child, an’ the good Lord bless you!

Mrs. De J. I am astonished! My daughter become 4
farmer’s drudge!

ist Sisrer. A country wife!

2p Sistrr. Ride to town in a wagon.

3D SisteR. Make butter and cheese.

4rn Sister. Milk cows and feed the pigs.

5rH SisreR. Wear linsey-woolsey gowns.

6TH Sisrer. Wasu, iron and bake.

ist Broraer. Go to country church, and sing psalms
-hrough your nose.

2p Brotuger. Fry doughnuts and make sausages.

3D RrorHer. Be Mrs. Ben Bacon. (Jmitates the grunt of
~ pig \

Mes De J. Come, children! If this is her decision, we
wil] leave her. One year’s experience in this place, and we'll
see her glad enough to escape it and come home again.

Marora. (With one arm around Aunt ANN and another
_ round Bex.) This is my home, and these now are my
idols.

Mrs De J. Faugh! How very vulgar! Get out, chil
aivn! (Heevnt all, making various grimaces and gosticulation
ai Marcta and Aunt ANN and BEN.) Oh, you silly, sense
|} tess girl! But you'll return to the city before you’re a year

_ older, so J will not even say good-by. (Zxit.)

_ Ben True love loses nothing by the test. I knew it

would he so. You've left father, mother, sisters, brothecs
--all for my sake. ; :

Maraa, For your sake, Ben.

Bey And do not regret the sacrifice?

 
THE DIME DIALOGUES,

Marcra. Not only do not regret it, Ben, but am richer
for the exchange—have lost dross and won gold.

Bren. You have, indeed, lost dross and won gold, dear,
in a way you do not dream, for we are rich—very rich; the
very house in which your father lives is ours.

Aunt A. Do you mean to say, Ben, that you’ve made
them scamps disgorge?

Ben. Yes, mother. Iso managed mattergy that I wove
a net around the scoundrels that would have drawn them

‘into State’s Prison, and they were only too glad to turn over
to me every dollar of Uncle Aaron’s estate. It is all ours
now, and comprises some of the finest property in the upper

' portion of the city.

Marcia. Oh, Ben, then I’m not to be a farmer’s wife,
after all! :

Ben.. Yes; here we'll stay; no place like the dear old
farm for me. Perhaps mother and father will let us build
us a pretty house over on the hill lot?

_ Aunt A. That you shall—a beautiful home, an’ our old

age will be made doubly happy that one so sensible and true
is our daughter-in-law.

Marcia. And I doubly happy that you are my mother-
in law. j

(Tableau as curtain falls.)

CONFOUND MILLER!
FOR THREE MALES AND TWO FEMALES.

(Enter Mr. Brown and FRep.)

Mr. Brown. Bah, it’s all nonsense! The whole town
talking about John Miller’s bravery, the other night. As if
any man would not have done the same! I'd like to see the
burglars who could frighten me/ What did he do, Id like
to know, that every one has to praise him up so? Now, in
my life I have done things just as brave as to frighten away
_ a couple of burglars, and no one has made such a-fuss. It’s

ridiculous! 5 i
Frep, But, uncle Frank, he did more than to “ frighten

 
   
 
 

CONFOUND MILLER,

   

away acouple of burglars.” You know he recovered every-
thing they had secured, and only after a hard fight. He did
what every man would not do, He—

Mr. B. Oh, don’t tell me what he did. Ihave heard
enough about it to know, I’m sure. I say again—any man
would have done the same, under the circumstances.

F. Ithink I know some men, who, if awakened in the
night by a pistol held over their heads, would hesitate to get
up and attack the man.

Mr. B. Perhaps you mean me?

F. I mention no names.

Mr. B. Perhapsit would have been better if you had
mentioned some.

F. Come now, uncle, don’t let us get into a quarrel
about such a little matter. It doesn’t make any difference
to us what people say of John Miller. It’s none of our busi-
ness, is it?

Mr. B. No; only I hate to see - people make such fools of
themselves. (Kvit.)

F. Ha, ha! How testy the old gentleman is. But Il

» rather enjoy it. He is all snarl and no bite.
(Enter BELLE and LOTTIE.)

BriiE. Well, cousin Fred, have you and papa been hav-
ing another spat? We just met him looking so cross, I
didn’t dare say any more to him than to ask him who had
been blackening his face for him, And you are laughing,
too.

F, I was smiling to think how ridiculous uncle makes
himself, sometimes. j

Lorrm. What’s the matter, now?

B. Now, aren’t you ashamed to be caught laughing at
your dear, kind uncle? You ought to have more respect for
the aged.

F. Oh, you call your father aged.. In that case his
daughter must be—let me see—uat least over twenty-five.

L. anp B. Now, cousin Fred! The idea!

F. Well, young ladies, I take it all back. I know Lot-
tie is only twenty-one, for all she locks so sedate and dizgni-
fied. And you, Belle, I believe, have attained the Wont
ful wise age a nineteen, : ;

   

 

 

 

     
THE DIME DIALOGUES,

B. Fred, stop teasing, and tell us about papa. ©

F. What about papa? :

B. Just hear him! About why you are laughing at him,
of course!

F. I-wasn’t laughing. Only smiling to think of uncle
Frank’s being put out simply because every one is speaking
highly of Miller,

L. Why should he be put out at that? I am sure Mr.
Miller deserves all the praise he gets for his pluck.

B. That’s right, Lottie, stand up for John. But, why
should papa not like it?

F. Why, he says John did only what any other man
would have done under the same circumstances.

L. Himself, for instance!

F. If you’ll excuse me, I was smiling to think of uncle’s
being in such a case.

B. Yes, I am sorry to say papa is a great coward.

F. That’s what makes it so funny, to hear him talk about
what we would do if any one should enter the house bur-
glariously. :

T almost wish some one would.

Oh, if I only dared!

Dared what?

To fool him!

With burglars?

Yes.

Why not?

He would be dreadfully angry.

And dreadfully scared.

Oh, no, Belle, you mustn’t.

Oh, yes, Belle, you must /

Wouldn’t it be fun tosee him! I have a notion to
doit. You know he stays late in his library to-night, look.
ing over the weekly accounts, and if you and Harry would
only mask yourselves and enter, we would watch.

F. I know Harry will be ready enough for the fun. He
always is. Now, Lottie, I see you are going to say ‘‘no,”
by the look on your face. You might as well give in, for
we won’t listen.

‘B. There will be no harm, unless he is scared into a fit,

L.
B
F.
B.
F.
B.
F
B.
ay
L.
F
B.

‘

 
CONFOUND MILLER,

and you could bring him round, Lottie. Yes, you must be on
hand, too, to enjoy it.

L. Well, I won’t say a word one way or the other, only—

B. You say you wouldn’t say a word, so don’t preach.
Come up-stairs with me while [look for those black masks we
wore last summer at the fancy ball.

F. Black masks! Ha, ha!—that is good. (Hveunt.)

(Curtain falls.)

~_—

Scene II.—Mr. Brown seated at a table on which a lamp
burns dimly. Papers scattered around: Mr. B. counting
out a roll of money.

Mr. B. Let’s see, here is the fifty that belongs to Clark.
Fifteen for Jim, ten for Sarah, twenty that I owe Fred, and—
(Door opens slouly and Belle peepsin.) Listen! What’s that?
(Nervously concealing money, and glancing around at thé door.)
I thought I shut that door. It must have been the wind.
(Door behind opens and a masked figure comes in and stands with
cocked pistol behind Mn. B.’s chair ; second figure enters. GIRLS
peep in. Mr. B. drops something, and in stooping to pick it up,
sees the burglars. Springs wp and gets behind the table greatly
terrified.) :

Mr. B. Heaven! Wha—what do you want?

F. (In a deep voice.) Your money or your life!

Mr. B. Oh, don’t, gentlemen. Put—put up—that—that
pistol. I’ve—I’ve no money!

Harry. Come now, old cove, no use to flunk or dodge,
or play poor. Just hand out the roll under that paper, or we
will be obliged to take it ourselves, and salt you for hid-
ing it.

Mr. B. Oh, God, save me. (Looks toward door as #f to es-
cape.) Pray, my dear sirs—oh, point that pistol the other
way! :

F. None o’ that! Bill, take the chink. Now, sir, have
you any more, handy?
_Mr. B, N—n—not another dollar, believe me. Oh, do
_ go away now. fa ¢ :
_ H. Not much we won’t, you old coward! We're

 
THE DIME DIALOGUES,

on the make to-night and want all in the bank! (Rum
mages umong the papers on the table, while Frep lays down the
pistol and agyproaches Mr. B. threateningly, who, in the struggle ta
et away, rnocks off F.’s mask.)

Mr. B. (Straightening up ferociously) What's this, Fred?
How dare you, sir?) What does this mean? (Approaching
Harky.) Take off your mask! (H. obeys.) And Harry
too! This is disgraceful! Had you boys nothing better
do than to-— :

5B. Scare your uncle almost to death.

Mr. B. You here, Belle, at this time of night? Do you
mean to say you are a party to this scandalous affair? And
Lottie, too? I should think en ought to be ashamed of
yourselves.

B. Well, papa, I will be a good girl and tell you the
‘truth. You had so much to say this morning about what
you* would do if burglars were to enter your house, that we
thought we would like to see how you really would act. Ané
so I asked Fred, and—

F. You asked me, indeed! You need not take all the
blame on yourself. I had as much to do with it as you—
more.

H. And, when Fred told me of the plan, I entered into
(t immediately—of course. I’m always ready for fun.

Mr. B. Yes, it is very plain to be seen that you—

B. Now, papa dear, don’t scold. Iam sure you acted
very oravely. ;

F. anp H. (Aside.) Ahem!

Mr. B. (Sinking into a chair.) Yes, I hope you know

_aow how I would act. You saw that I would not let t
neve the money.

B. How do they happen to have some now, then?

Mr. B. They took it. J did not let them haveit. Tae,
»00k it, despite me—two to one. ;

B. Oh! <Abem! Yes, I understand.

Mr. B. And you saw how I fought with Fred, and suc-
ceeded in knocking off his mask?

B. Why, the way I saw it, it looked as if y.u threw up §

your arms when you saw him coming, and your hand struck
bis face and knocked off the mask. But, of rourse, you
7 Fy ; ; ty / oa

 
ee

CONFOUND MILLER.

_ know best; you were very calm and collected—as brave as
Mr. Miller. ,
Mr. B. Confound Miller! But I hope you are satisfied
- now. Still, I consider your conduct, young men, as crimi-
nally disgraceful. (Zo Frep.) How dared you to hold a
pistol at me? Do you know I could have you arrested and
sent to State’s Prison?
B. Oh, papa!
F. The pistol did not happen to be loaded, or have
' alock on it, sir. Iv’s bogus. However, I’m sorry I scared
» you.
Mr. B. Who said you scared me, you yonng rascal? I
_ was as calm as any man would have been under the cireum-
_ stances. 3
B. As Mr. Miller.
Mr. B. Confound Miller, I say! ~ Belle, you go to bed.
_ B. Yes, papa. Come Lottie. Good-night, cousins. I
hope you will sleep well tonight, papa! (Girs ereunt.)
Mr. B. That girl must be punished for this. VN—V1
—do something. Now, boys, I wish to say something to
you. For your own sakes, this affair ought not to be known,
If I wished, I could tell it all over town to-morrow, aud get
you into trouble; but if you yourselves promise to say noth-
ing at all about it, [ will keep still, What do you say?
_ F. (Aside.) He wants us te be quiet, for fear we tell how
scared he was. 4
iH. Yes, sir; we will promise. We know we did very
; wrong.
_ Mr. B. Well, never let this thing happen again. Go,
now; I forgive you.
F. (Aside.) What for? For frightening you?
(Hatt F and WH.)
Mr. B. The young rogues! And yet—it was a good
joke. If I hadn’t knocked off that mask by accident, I
don’t know what would have happened. it’s jucky I did.
Now I can—(BEtte puis head within door)—boast how
brave— k
B. Mr. Miller was!
4 Mr. B. Goto bed!
e _B. Yes, papa, when—+when—

 
 
 

   
   
  
   
   
 
 
  
  
  
 
    
    
 
   
   
 
 
  
 
 
 

Aon ES en AP oe

28 THE DIME DIALOGUES.

 

Mr. B. When what? Out with it!
B. When you acknowledge that John Miller was brave,
and—and—

Mr. B. And what?

B. And say I may become Ws. Miller!

Mr. B. And if I don’t?

B. Vl tell him the joke—a pistol that had no lock —
money given up—and all that.

Mr. B. Go to bed, I say!

B. Shall [ tell him, or may I become Mrs. Miller?

Mr. B. You may become Mrs. Miller. (ait Brie.)
Confound these young folks! Confound Miller!
(Kicks over chairs, and exit as curtain falls.)

 

IGNORANCE VERSUS JUSTICE.

Characters: —JovHam S1iocum, Esqa., Dr. Spricutriy, Mr.
SnirFies, Board of Hxeamination; HkNRyY BLAKE, Mr.
Crook, Mr. Dent, Lkopotp Sitocum, Mr. Gaas, Mr.
Hinks, Mr. Jones, DANIEL WEBSTER, Cundidates for the
Bunktown School.

Scenr.— The office of Justiex Stocum. He is seated in his
office chair, opposite the candidates arranged on one side of the
room. Across the table Dr. Spricuriy, and in a retired
corner of the room, apparently asleep, with his hat drawn
down over his eyes, sits Mr. SNIFFLES.

Squire. I’m glad to see so many candidates here to-day,
and I will say it, though I don’t do it to flatter anybody,
that ye are an intelligent, up an’ gettin’, spunky-lookin’ set of
boys. it’s a good idee to have your eye peeled for a fat job, as
the poetsays; but you must make up your minds not to be over-
whelmed by disappointment when it’s gin out that only one
of ye can perside over the destinies of the Bunktown skule-
boys and gals. For the Board, of which I am the principal
member, bhain’t but jest one skule-house, and don’t want but
one skulemaster, so, in course, all but one of ye has got to
go somewhere else. P’r’aps another of ye might squat in
over to Jarseyville, as they aren’t so particular about their

 

  
   

  

 
  

IGNORANCE 8. JUSTICE,

 
 
 
 

  

_ edication as we are; but make up your minds that they don’t
_ pay top prices either. If I don’t disremember, twenty dol
lars a month is every red them Jarseyvillers will give ye,
_-while we pay thirty dollars, and throw in Saturdey after.
noons into the bargain.

Docror. Excuse me for interrupting you, squire, but ]
have it from good authority that the people whom you men
tion pay their teacher twenty dollars per week.

4 SquirE. They don’t, nuther! Twenty dollars a wees
_ Any one would think, doctor, you were a ravin’ crazywe.
Twenty dollars‘a week! Why, that’s more than fifty dollars
a month. Whew! Fifty dollars! That’s more than Parson
Tucker, the most edicatedest man in the town, got for
preaching all last summer and fall. It’s five dollars more
than Jereboam Wilkins got for them brindled steers he driv
off yesterday.
: Doctor. Every one may not be agreed about the literary
_ ability of Parson Tucker any more than they are about the
price our neighboring town pays her teachers. But as the
nour has arrived for this examination to begin, wouldn’t it
be well to proceed to our regular business, and leave all out-
side matters for a more convenient season?
; Squire. Jest as you say, doctor. Now, gentlemen, ihe
_. Board will proceed to examine your intellects, and decide
who can best navergate our skule. Fustly, we want some-
body that’s got gumption. Let me tell you that gumption is
the principal thing, and the proverb wouid have been power:
fuler if it had read, ‘‘ With all thy wisdom get guraption.”
- Twostly, we want moral caricter. ’Tain’t no use to hist any
- bedy into a high position that hain’t got moral caricter. It’?
the rudder and the jib jest as much as gumptionis the wind. Ye
can have jest as many spankers and gingerbread sails as ye
can crack on, but without moral caricter ye’ll find the ship
going starn fust. Lastly and finally, we want edication, and
_ edication of the fust water. We won’t have any of the jim
cranks that they l’arn in these academies, but readin’, ritin’,
 refentic, and sich, everybody ought to know something
about. This highfalutin’ stuff might as well be sunk in the
- Gulf of Mexico for all the good it does. I never larned a
word on it, and never would, and Aby Lincoln and Andy

      
     
     
   
         
       
       
 

      
       
       
   
   
     
       
     
       
       
     
   
   
         
     
   
   
  

FES oe oi

 
    

89 THE DIME DIALOGUES.

Johuson, and all the great luminaries, foreign and domestic,
have been jest my mind.
Docror. I beg permission, squire, to remind you that
some of the gentlemen present have come quite a long dis-
tance, and it is important that they should not be detained
beyond the time absolutely necessary for the examination.
Squire. Let ’em be going, then, doctor. If anybody
dvun’t want to hear what the Board has to say on the subject
af examinations, the sooner he is out of sight the better.

    
  
    
  
 
 
    
  
 
     
  
   
   
    
   
  
 
 
 

‘When you have been in the harness as long as I have, anc

have picked up sici an edication as I have, you won’t pass
by an opportunity of lect’ring the’ rising generation on the
needs and excesses of mankind.

Doctor. We would doubtless all esteem it a privilege to
pear you lecture from the rostrum, squire, but we have re
quested all candidates for our school to be present at 3 P. M.
for examination, and the hour is already past. Out of cour-
tesy, therefore, to them, if there is no other reason, I contend
{hat we should forthwith begin our work.

SquirE. Begin it is, then. In the fust place, doctor,
you may give each one « piece of paper. I want to see some
of their ritin’, and I want them to answer some questions in
ritin’ that I have to ax.

Doctor. Then it is to be a writteu examination? I have
informed several that the examination would probably be
oral. :

Squrrz. In course it wil) be a ritten examination. Who
ever heerd tell of an examination without ritin’ to it?

Docror. I mean are all the questions to be answered ir
writing’

Squire. Heavens and arth, no! Why, I expect to ax
them more’n forty questions, fust to last, and ’twould tabe
the whole night for so much ritin’. Now, candidates, you
may rite your names, your ages, when and where born, how
mich you’ve teached, whether you’re married or are likely
to be pretty soon, whether Democrat or Republican, and one
more—whether you’re one of them Reuben Catholics—and
that’s enough. The one that comes close up to the notch or
them can kalkerlate he stands a pretty good chance to get
our skule.

 

  
  

 
 
 

    
  

IGNORANCE 8, JUSTICE, 81

     

Doctor. I trust this will not conclude the exercises.
Squirr. I guess not. The Board has jest begun to ex-
‘amine. (Hesitates.) When they are done ’ritin’, doctor, you a
Can take their papers ag’in, and I will ax them some ques- 3
tions on geogfry. Now, I want you to answer in turn,
_ The fu’st there may answer the fu’st question, the second a
_the next, and so on. Harvey Blinker, that’s your name, a
young man, ain’t it?
Brake. Henry Blake, if you please, sir.
_ Squire. Well, it appears to look as much like Harvey
_ Blinker as anything. But you may tell me what are the
highest mountains in the world. Pas a
Brake. The Himalayas, sir.
Squirz. What! the Himmerlers the highest mountains? j
_ Them little things! Ishould have thought any skale boy e
_ would have known better than that. I knowed it when I
 wa’n’t more’n ten year old. Next, what mountains do you ‘
_ say are the highest? 5
Crook. My answer would be the same.
Squire. Another wrong. Next, what do you say?
Dent. The Rocky. 4
SqumrE. No! Perty near, but not quite right. Next, ee
_ do you think the Himmerlers arc the highest mountains?
‘ Stocum. No, sir; the Andes are the highest.
Squire. Right! I thought everybody knowed that—
Doctor. Do you, squire, consider the last answer a cor- F
rect one? All recognized authorities of the present day are
agreed that the Himalayas are very much the highest, and,
accepting such authorities, ] don’t hesitate to pronounce the
first and second answers correct.
Squire. I tell you the Andes are the highest, and if you 4a
_ don’t believe it, I'll p’int out where it says so in my geogfry. a
_ (Shows book open to place.) There, now; anything to say? Pe
Docror, Please let me look at the date of your geography, j
squire. (Hvamines and reads.) 1815. It is safe to say that
many statements made here are a long way behind the times.
Squire. P’r’aps you think the Himmerlers have grown
_ some since the geogfry was made. He, he, he—he, he, he
- —he, he, he! Now we’ve got that p’int settled, you may
_ tell, next, what is the longest river in the world. .

          
     
   
         
    
     
        
     
       
       
     
     
        
    

aS es” 5

    
       
         
     
    

 

   

 

      
      
 

   
  

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THE DIME DIALOGUES.

Fring. The Mississippi.
Squire, Not bya longchalk. If you can’t answer these
zasy questions, [ don’t know what you're going to do when
I get fairly stirred up. Next, what do you say?

Gaes. All the books that I have seen make the Missis-
sippi surpass all others in length. :

Seuirk Well, the man that made your book must have
been a fool, for ’tain’t the longest, and never was, and neve:
will be. Who can tell what oneis the longest? (AU rads
kands.} Loppy Slocum, you may tell.

Stocum. The Amazon.

Sqgumer. Right again, Mr. Slocum. Them’s the answers
what will get ye the skule.

Doctor. I protest against such one-sidedness, If the ex-
amination is allowed to go on in this way, it will prove to be
nothing but a farce, and we might as well stop it here. No
authority worth considering would leave the impression that
the Amazon is the longest river.

Squire. P’r’aps you think the old Mississippi has stretch-
ed out since this was writ. (Showing book.) There, now;
ain’t ycu satisfied? He, he, he—he, he, he—he, he, he!
That ics about all in the geogfry line we want to tell who
knows the most about. Now we'll try spellin. Dinah
Washington, you take the fust word.

Wessrer. Please read my name Daniel Webster.

Squrre. Well, who’d ever kalkerlate that was Daniel
Webster? Ye aren’t any kin to the immortal Daniel, are ye?

Wesstrer. Not that I know of, sir.

Sqgurre. Well, I didn’t think ye were, for he was a great
penman. Nobody that could read ritin’ would ever mistake,
his autumn-graft. It seemed to come nat’ral to him to rite as
‘t does to the Slocums. Here is a specimen of my nephew's
ti.in’, and it’s ritin’ what is writin’. (2eads.) ‘‘ Leopold
Siocam, aged twenty-seven year; born April fust, eighteen _
hundred and fifty, at Pepperhill Falls, New Hampshire;
teached six weeks; ain’t married yet, but expect to be, next
summer, to Jerusha Ann Tyler; Republican; Methodist re-
ligion.* Well done, Loppy! Every word of it is as plain
as the print on the almanac cover.

Doctor. I should infer that the gentlemen were not alj
rangers to you, squire.

 

 
   
  
   

IGNORANCE 08, JUSTICE.

   

    

SqurrE. You infer jest right. Loppy, there, is brother
Azariah’s Ji/tle boy; and he and sister Huldah have trained
him so we)) that every inch of him is Slocum. But we’ll
now proceed with the spellin’ David Wilmington, spell my
fust name.

Docror, You mean to address Mr. Webster, I presume
bnt it ie extremely doubtful if the gentleman knows yo’
Arst navie.

Squire. Don’t knowmyfust name? And here I’ve Leas
Justice of the peace more’n forty year, and a-marryin’ folks,
and writin’ their wills and deeds, about all that time. Perty
likely I married the parents of up’ards of half the folks in this ia
room. Everybody, I tell ye, has hearn of Square Jotham “a
Slocum. Now spell.

Wesster. J-o Jo—t-h-a-m tham—Jotham.

Squire. Wrong! Next. a

Hinxs. Jo Jo—t-h-e-m them—Jothem. :

SqurrE. Wrong, again. Whocan spell it? (L. SLocum
raises hand.) You will have to tell them, Loppy. ;

Stocum. §-q-u-a-r-e—square. 4
E Squire. Right, every time. That’s the way I want ques- 4
_ tions answered.

JONES. | thought squire was not a part of a man’s name,
but only an abbreviation for Esquire.

Docror. Andso | think, and notwithstanding the unfair
decision, the first speller is entitled to the credit of spelling
the word correctly.

Sqrarz. Well, take another word, Mr. Bummer—I would
say, Mr. Bottle—

BLAKE. Blake, if you please,

Squire. Oh, yes.. Mr. Blake, spell beefsteak

Bake. B-e-e-f beef s-t e-a-k, steak—beefsteak.

Squire. Wrong, as I-expected it would be. And,
me tell ye, that is about as tough a word to get together the
first time as you can find, and anybody that can manage it~
without balking, can walk off with the rest of them easy
enough. Next, don’t be afeered, mebbe you can handle it.

Crook. I haven’t any different way of spelling the word
than that already taken. ¢
Squmr. No different way!

    
       
     
     
   
      
        
       
       
     
     
     
     
         
     
   
      
      
       
     
     
       
     
     
     
    

 
    

Well, who can spell beat

   
   
 
 
      
      
  
   
 
    
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
    
 
  
  
    
   
 
    
  
 
      

ye! B-e-ef-s-t-e-ak! Who ever hear tell. of such an out-

THE DIME DIALOGUES,

   

steak the way it ought to be spelt? (AW raise hands.) Wo,
you can’t, either. Loppy, seein’s you have done so well
before, you may try it.

Siocum. B-e-a-f beaf, s-t-a-k-e stake—beaf stake.

SqurrE. Well, if that don’t beat all! I couldn’t have
done better myself. The Board knows well enough who is
best in Ritin’, Geogfry and Spellin’; now we'll try Re

entic;

Docror. Before going further it might be well, as a iin
ple act of justice to these gentlemen, to compare your me
thod of spelling the word beefsteak with the one I have here.

SqurrE. All right, doctor, compare if you wart to; you
will find out pretty soon who's rightest. (Taking dictionary
which the doctor passes, open to the word.) -Tain’t right, I tell

  

landish way as that before to-day? (Looking at the title page.)
Webster’s Dictionary, Unabridged; under a bridge it means, J
suppose, and that accounts for it. Who ever heard tell of
making a dictionary under a bridge? Nobody could do it,
and do it right. It takes an edicated man to make a dic-
tionary what is a dictionary, and no edicated man ever got
down under a bridge to make one.

Doctor. Well, here are Worcester’s, and Walker’s, and
Johnson’s, and they all have the same combination of letters
for that word.

SquirE. ’Tain’t right, I tell ye, but we'll leave it to the
other member of the Board. What do you decide, Mr.
Sniffies, is my way of spelling beefsteak right?

Snirrtes. Oh, sartain, square. Anything you say, I’m
agreed to.

Squire. Now, the Board will persede to examine .n re
‘entic; and, fust, how many know enough to divide one frac
tion by another fraction? (Al raise hands.) That looks
something like! Mr. what’s your name there, you may tell
it. Now, speak up smart, just as if ye were recitin’.

Hinks. First reduce the fractions to a common denomi-
nator; then divide the numerator of the dividend by the nu
merator of the divisor, and the number of times it is con-
tained will be the answer sought,

Squirz, Well, well; Uve hearn a good dea) volderdas»

‘

 
      
 

IGNORANCE 08 JUSTICE.

   

 

m my day, but never any to beat that. Where, uv de.
fight of the heavens, young man, did you get that idee?

Hinxs. I am sustaiued, sir, by every writer on arithinetic
that I have seen, and if you will take the trouble to peruse
some of the best text-books, as Robinson’s, Walton’s, Eaton’s
and Quackenbos’s, you will see that I am supported by
them

Squmre. Quackboss, hey! What is he: the boss
s¥ the refentic bizness? I might have known there Wa
poume quackery about it, and the doctor don’t like that no
better tnan ! do.

Doctor. I consider Mr. Hinks’s answer unqualifiedly
correct. Itisstrictly according to our analysis of principles. °

Seumme. Alosis of principles!, Now none of your doctor
stuff in this refentic; ’twon’t do! My moito is, keep poli- |
tics, religion, and doctorin’ out of the skules, andif youdon’t
I wouldn’t give much for the skules. Loppy, you’ve done ~~
first rate, so far; yon may tell ’em how you divide one frac- ae
tion by another fraction. Be

sLocum. I write the first fraction down, and then I turn :
the second fraction bottom-side up and write it down after _
the first fraction; then I multiply the two top numbers toge-
ther and put them above a line, and the two lower numbers
together and put them under the same line, and this always
gives the right answer if I do the multiplying right.

SquimE. And that is the right way, too. Who ever
heard tell of alosis of principle before. Your way, Loppy,
is the only sure way that has ever been tried, and I’ve tried
about all the ways there are. Now, who can tell what rule
it is im refentic that you can do about any sum by? Raise
your hands. (L. Stocum raises his hand.) Only one knowe*
Jan’t you tell, Mr Beetle, I mean Mr. Blake?

Buaxe. I should think the principles of the four funda:
mental rules, Addition, Subtraction, Multiplication and Divi
sion, would be necessary to solve the problems of Arith-
metic.

"Squire. What! Them easy things? IL thought you
knowed better. Don’t know what rule it is that you can do
sbout all the sums by? My sum-book has got more’n forty
urma done by it, every one on ’em. I knowed that rul

    
  
 
    
   
  
  
   
  
   
 
    
  
  
   
  
   
  
 
 
   

   
 

  
   

 
 

66 THE DIME DIALOGS3ES,
afore I was fifteen year old.
you again; tell ’°em what it is.

Stocum. The Rule of Three will get you out of aout
anything there is in the refentic, and what that won’t get
you out of you can make up your mind you hadn’t oughter
get out of.

SqurrE. Well done, Loppy; right again! You’ve answer-
ed questions here to-day the marster, and seein’s no other can-
derdate has come near ye, the Board decides to give ye the
skule. Don’t you say so, Mr. Snitiles?

SNIFFLES. Sartain, square. Anything you say, I agree to.

Docror. I protest again against such unfairness. Ign’t
there to be any examination in reading, grammar, history,
and the various other branches usually taught in that class
of schools?

Squire. Hain’t the Board examined, hain’t the Board
agreed, and hain’t the Board gin out the school to Mr. Leo-
pold Slocum? What more do you want, doctor?

Docror. I want an impartial examination in reading and
grammar, as well as in those branches you have pretended
to examine in.

Squire. In course they can read! Who is there now
days that can’t read? and as for grammar, I don’t want the
children’s heads filled up with such stuff. Thev didn’t have
it when I went to skule, and where’s the man more knowed
and respected than I am? :

Doctor. Then I will wash my hands of this proceeding
I accepted the position on the school-board, hoping to improve
the educational interests of this town, but my efforts have
been powerless to do so, and this day I will file my resigns
jom as a member of this Board. Young gentlemen, I hearti.,
*ympathize with you in your shameful treatment here 1%
day, and hope it will never again be your misfortune to fa.
among such fiendish ignoramuses sitting on an educationa
committee.

Squirz. The Board accepts your resignation, dortor
ard will proceed to fill your place; don’t you say so, Mr
Sniffles.

SnirFues. Sartain, square. Anything you say, I's
agreed to.

Loppy, we'll have to ca! en

  
 
   

   

te

oe te oe Chen in On het Py. pee ee

  

 

   
  

    
PEDANTS ALL.

PEDANTS ALL«

_ Characters: Dicrt,a mathematical Pedant ; SESQUIPEDALIA, «
Linguist and Philosopher ; Tru, a musical Pedant ; Drowg,
a Servant.

Drarrt. Is your master at home, sir?
Drone. (Speaking very slowly.) Can’t say; spose he is,
feed, I’m sure he is, or was just now.
. Die. Why, I could solve an equation while you are an
_swering a question of five words—I mean if the unknown >
' terms were all on one side of the equation. Can I see him!

Dro Very likely, sir. I will inform him that Mr.—

Die. Digit, Digit.

Dro. Oh, Mr. Digy-Digy wishes to see him.

; (ait Drone.)

: Die. (Alone.) That fellow is certainly a negative quantity.
_ He is minus common sense. If this Mr. Morrell is the man
I take him to be, he cannot but patronize my talents
_ Should he not, I don’t know how I shall obtain a new coat.

I have worn this ever since I began to write my theory of

-sines, and my elbows have so often formed tangents with the
_ surface of my table, that a new coat is very necessary. But
_ here comes Mr. Morrell. (Hnter Sesquipepaura.) Sir (bow-

ing low), 1 um your most mathematical servant. I am sorry,
sir, to give you this trouble; but an affair of consequence—

(pulling the rags over his elbows)—an affair of consequence, as

your servant informed you—

 Srs. Servus non est mihi, domine ; that is, I have no ser-
_ vant, sir. I presume you have erred in your calculation;
= and—

Die. No,sir. The caleulations I am about to present you,
are founded upon the most ccrréect theorems of Euclid! You
may examine them, if you please. They are contained in -
this smail manuscript. (Producing a folio )

_ Ses. Sir, you have bestowed a degree of interruption
upon my observations. I was about, or, according to the —
Latins, futurus sum, to give you a little information concern-
ing the lwminary who appears to have deceived your vision
My name, sir, is Tullius Maro Titus Crispus Sesquipedalia,
by profession & tinguist and philosopher. The most abstruse

 
En EG NT PT ee ee ee ee

 

THE DIME DIALOGUES.
° me

   
 

points in physics or metaphysics to me are as transparent as”
ether. I have come to this house for the purpose of obtain- Y

 

ing the patronage of a gentleman who befriends all the lite-

rati. Now, sir, perhaps I have produced conviction én mente a

tua, that is, in your mind, that your calculation was erro- pins
neous? |
oe Dia. - Yes, sir; your person mas mistaken. But my cal be
ec. tylations, I maintain, are correct to the tenth place of a cir Ee
Be  melating decimal. a
oe Ses But what is the subject of your manuscript? Have |
ie you discussed the infinite divisibility of matter? ‘ay
2 Dia. No, sir, we cannot reckon infinity; and I have H

nothing to do with subjects that cannot be reckoned.
Ses. Why, I can reckon about it. I reckon it is divisible |

as ad infinitum. But perhaps your work is upon the materiality
of light; and if so, which side of the question do you es —
pouse?

Die. Oh, sir, I think it quite immaterial!

Ses. What! light émmaterial/ .Do you say light is im- —
material? :

Die. No; I say it is quite immaterial which side of the |
question I espouse. I have nothing to do with it. And,
besides, I am a bachelor, and do not mean to espouse any-
thing at present.

Ses. Do you write upon the attraction of cohesion?
You know matter has the properties of attraction and re-
pulsion,

Die, I care nothing about matter, so I can find enougk
for mathematical demonstration. ; +

Ses. I cannot conceive what you have written upon,

“jnen, Oh, it must be the centripetal and centrifugal motions

Die © (Peevishly.) No, no! I wish Mr. Morrell wou. ‘
yme. Sir, I have no motions but such as I can make with f
ty pencil upon my slate thus (figuring wpon his hand): Six,

' minus four, plus two, equal eight, minus six, plus Be a
There those are my motions. o

Ses. Oh,I perceive you grovel in, the depths of arith.

metic! I suppose you never soared into the regions of phi-
_ losophy? You never thought of the vacuum which has a
long are, the heads of philosophers? ;

 

   
   
  
   
    
    
  
  
  
     
     
     
     
    
   

oer 0 ue

hem.” woe

re

 

 

 

  
   
 
  
   
     
    
   
   
   
     
   
   
    
    
  
  
  

PEDANTS ALL.

Die. Vacuum! (Putting his hand to his forehead.) Let

me think \

Szs. Ha! what! have you got it sub manu, that is, under
your hand? Ha, ha, ha!
- Die. Eh? under my hand? What do you mean, sir? |

—that my head is a vacuum? Would you insult me, six?

Insult Archimedes Digit? _ Why, sir, I’ll cipher you into in-
| finite divsibility. Vl set you on.an upright cone. Tl give
} | you a centrifugal motion out of the window, sir! I'll tea
you up by the roots, and scatter your solid contents to the
winds, sir!

Ses. Da veniam, that is, pardon me. It was merely a
lapsus lingue, that is— *

Die. Well, sir, I am not fond of lapsus linguas at all, sir.
However, if you did not mean to offend, I accept your apol-
ogy. I wish Mr. Morrell would come.

Ses. But, sir, is your work upon mathematics?

Dic. Yes, sir. In this manuscript I have endeavored tu
elucidate the squaring of the circle.

Ses. But, sir, a square circle is a contradiction in terms,
You cannot make one.

Die. I perceive you are a novice in this sublime science, °
The object is to find a square which shall be equal to a given
circle, which I have done by a rule drawn from the radii of
the circle and the diagonal of the square. And, by my rule,
the area of the square will equal the area of the circle.
| $as, Your terms are to me incomprehensible. Déagonat
is derived from the Greek—di-a and go-ne, that is, “ through
the corner.” But I don’t see what it has to do with a circles,
/ for 1f I understand aright, a circle, like a sphere, has re
_} 29rners. : ,

Die. You appear to be very ignorant of the science 4-
aumbers. Your life must be very insipidly spent in coring
_ over philosophy and the dead languages. You never .asted,
as Lhave, the pleasure arising from the investigation of an
insoluble problem, or the discovery of a new rule in quad
- tatic equations. : ;

' Ses. Po, po! (Turns round with disgust, and hits Diary
vcth his cane.) i
Due. Oh, you villain!

? Tee P: Pok

-.

 

 

   
 

 

 

 
         
 

 

     
 

  
  
 

THE DIME DIALOGUES,

     
 

Ses. I wish, sir— - :

Dia. And so do I wish, sir, that that cane was raised te ihe
the fourth power, and laid over your head as many times as
there are units in athousand. Oh, oh!

 

ee Ses. Did my cane come in contact with the sphere of re- rel
eae pulsion around your shin? I must confess, sir—(Hnter 20!
ee Tritt.) Oh, here is Mr. Morrell. Salve, dominie! Sir,
your most obedient servant. a ¥0
RS Try. Which of you, gentlemen, is Mr. Morrell? Qi
ig Ses. Oh, neither, sir! I took you for that gentleman. ;
Tritt. No, sir; lama teacher of music. Flute, harp, | *
viol, violin, violoncello, organ, or anything of the kind, any
instrument you can mention. I have just been displaying. ei
my powers at a concert, and come recommended to the e

b> patronage of Mr. Morrell.

‘Sus. For the same purpose are that gentleman and my-
self here. |

Dia, (Still rubbing his shin.) Oh, oh! §

Trt. Has the gentleman the gout? I have heard of
its being cured by music. Shall Ising youa tune? Hem!
Hem! Faw— a

Die. No, no; I want none of yourtunes. I’dmakethat
philosopher sing, though, and dance, too, if he hadn’t made

-a vulgar fraction of my leg.
Ses. In veritate ; that is, in rath, it happened forte, that
is, by chance.

Tru. (Talking to himself.) If B be flat, me is in E.

Die. Ay, sir, this is only an integral part: of your con-
duct ever since you came into this house. You have con-
tinued to multiply your insults in the abstract ratio of a geo-
metrical progression, and at last have proceeded to violence.
The dignity of Archimedes Digit never experienced such a
reduction descending before. If Mr. Morrell does not admit me
soon, I’ll leave the house, while my head is on my shoulder’,

Tritt. Gentlemen, you neither keep time nor. chord.

- But if you can sing we may carry a trio before we go. - ’
E Ses. Can you sing an ode to Horace or Anacreon? I
should like to hear one of them. — - \
Die. I had rather hear you sing a Gemanstration of the

~ fonyteventh proposition, et book.

  
   
 
  
   
   
   
  
     
       
       
     
   

og | la. Faas

 

 

ie

 

 

 
    
  
   
  
   
   
  
   
    
   
    
  
 
 
 
   
  
  
    
 
   

PEDANTS ALL.

Tritt. I never heard of those composers, sir; where do

they be.ong? .
Ses. They did belong to Italy and Greece.
Trmu. Ah! Italy! There are our best masters—Cor

>
°
Tito ate irene eee a 5)

e- relli, Morrelli, and Fuseli. Can you favor me with their |
er | sompositions? |
r, Ses. Oh, yes, if you have a taste that way, I can furnist

you with them, and with Virgil, Sallust, Cicero, Casa:
Quintilian; and I have an old Greek Lexicon that I can spare

Tritt. Ad hbitum, my dear sir; they will make a hand
» | 8ome addition to my musical library. y

Die. But, sir, what pretensions have you to the patron-
r age of Mr. Morrell? I don’t believe you can square the
ya eircle. ”
Ses. Nor prove the infinite divisibility of matter.
TrimL. Pretensions, sir! I have gained a victory over
} the great Tantamarrarra, the new opera singer, who pretend-
|} ed to vie with me. ’Twas in the symphony of Handel’s
 Ovatorio of Saul, where, you know, everything depends upon
| the tempo giusto, and where the primo should proceed in
>  smorzando, and the secondo in agitate. But he was on the
third leger line, I was an octave below, when, with a sudden
appoggiatura, I rose to D in alt., and conquered him.

(Enter DRONE.)

Dro. My master says how he will wait on you, gentlemen

Die. What is your name, sir?

Dro. Drone, at your service.

 

= Dic. No, no; you need not drone at my service. A
“2 very applicable name, however.
“J Ses. Drone? That is derived from the Greek draon,

jying-or moving swiftly.

. Tru. He rather seems to move in andante measure

+ iaat is, to the tune of Old Hundred.

; Dro. Very likely, gentlemen. Follow me. (fait. =
‘Die. Well, as I came first, I will enter first. (Hat.
Ses. Right. You shall be the antecedent, I the subse,

quent, and Mr. Trill the consequent. (Hvit.)
Tritt. Right. I was always aman of consequence. Faw,

sol, law; Faw, sol, etc., etc. (Heit, singing as he goes out.)
pate THE END f ;

    
     
       
    

    
 

ser) tes

  
STAN ee
E DIALOGUE
For School Exhibitions and Home Entertainments,

Nos. 1 to 21 inclusive, 15 to 25 Popular Dialogues and Dramas in each book. Each volume 100
12mo pages, sent post-paid, on receipt of price, tea cents,

Beadle & Adams, Publishers, 98 William St., N. Y.

| Dim

arlors with or with:
E of every age, bo’

\d to schools and
YOUN

wae aN G PEOPI:

 

‘of wit, pathos, humor and sentiment,

Meeting of the Muses. For nine young ladies.
Baiting a Live Englishman. For three boys,
Tasso’s Coronation. For male and female.
Fashion. For two ladies.

‘The Rehearsal. For six boys,

Which will you Choose? For twoboys.

The Queen of May. For two little girls.

The Tea-Party.._ For four ladies.

Three Scenes in Wedded Life. Maloand female.
Mrs. Sniffies’ Confession. For male and female.
The Mission of the Spirits. Five young ladies,

The Genius of Liberty. 2 males and 1 female,

Cinderellas or, The Little Glass Slipper.

Doing Good and Saying Bad. Several characters.

‘The Golden Rule. Two males and two females.

‘The Gift of the Fairy Queen. Several females.

‘Taken in and Done For. For two characters.

The Country Aunt’s Visit to the City. For sev-
eral characters.

‘The Two Romans. For two males,

‘Trying the Characters, For three males.

‘The py Family. For several ‘ani nals,”

The Ralabows For several characters. 5

 

 

 

‘The May Queen. For an entire school.

Dress Reform Convention. For ten females,
Keeping Bad Company. A Farce. For five males,
Courting Under Difficulties. 2 males, 1 female.
Wational Representatives. A Burlesque. 4 males.
Ezscaping the Draft. For numerous males,

“6

 

DIME DIALOGUES, NO, 4,

The Frost King. For ten or more persons.
Starting in Life. Three males and two females.
Faith, and Charity. For three little girls.
Darby and Joan. For two males and one female.
‘The May. A Floral Fancy. For six little girls.
‘The Enchanted Princess. 2 males,several females
Ronor to Whom Honor is Due. 7 males, 1 female.
The Gentle Client. Forseveral males, one female
_ Porenology. A Discussion, For twenty males,

DIME DIALO
‘The Three Guesses. Yor school or pei
Sentiment. A ‘‘ Three Persons’ ”’ Fa ce.
Behind the Curtain. For males and females.
‘The Eta PiSociety. Five boys and a teacher.
Examination Day, Forseveral female characters.
in “ Tray Forseveral males,
‘The 1 Boys’ Tribunal. For ten boys.
A Loose Tongue. Several males and females,
How Not to Get an Answer. For two females..

 

 

     
 

 

‘The W: The Kept aSecret. Male and females.

~The Post ase aul tleey For five males.
‘William Tell. For a whole sehool. :

's Rights. S femme and two

Gii

 

 

These volumes have been prepared with especial reference to their availability for Exhibitions,

ether books in the market, at any price, contain so many useful and available dislogues anddramas

DIME DIALOGUES, NO, 1.

DIME DIALOGUES, NO, 2,

DIME DIALOGUES, NO. 3,

DIME DIALOGUT'S, NO. 6.

  
  
 

PARD,

 

out the furniture of a stage, and suited to SCHOL-

th male and female. It is fair to assume that ne

 

H6bnobbing. For five speakers,
'The Secret of Success. For three speakers,

Young America. Three males and two females. |
Josephine’s Destiny. Four females, onemale,
The Folly of tlre Duel. For three malespeakers,
Dogmatism. For three male speakers,

The Ignorant Confounded. Fortwo boys.

'The Fast Young Man. Fortwo males,

The Year’s Reckoning. 12 females and 1 male,
|The Village with One Geitleman, For eight fee
| males aud one male.

 

How to Write § Popular?’ Stories, Two males,
The Newand the Old. For two males,

A Sensation at Last. For two males,

The Greenhorn. For two males,

The Three Men of Science. For four males.
The Old Lady’s Will. For four males,

The Little Phil sophers, For two little girls.
How to Find an Heir. For five males.

The Virtues. For six young ladies.

A Connubial Eclogue.

The Public meeting. Five males and onefemalo.
The English Traveler, For two males,

   
     
  
 
   
    
  
   
      
   
     
   

The Genteel Cook. For two males.
Masterpiece. For two males and two females,
The Two Romans, For two males,

The Same, Secondscene. Fortwo males,
Showing the White Feather. 4 males, 1 female.
The Battle Call, A Recitative, For one male,

The Stubb'etown Volunteer. . 2 males, 1 female.
A Scene from * Paul Pry”? For four males.

The Charms. For three males and ont female.
Bee, Clock and Broom. For three little girls.
The Right Way. AColloquy. For two boys.
What the Ledger Says. For two males.

The Crimes of Dress. A Colloquy. For two boys,
The Reward of Benevolence. For four males, ,
The Letter, For two males,

GUES, NO, 6,
Putting on Airs. A Colloqny. For two males,
Tho Straight Mark. For several boys.
Two ideas of Life. A Colloquy. For ten girls.
Extract from Marino Faliero.
Ma-try-Money. An Acting Charade.
The Six Virtues. For six young ladies.,
aie. ReaD Tn SH Ae Home. ae ane Fale ‘
‘ashionable Requirements. For three girls,
A Bevy of I’s (yes). For eight or less little gir:

     
  
   
 

   
 

    
   
 

 
  
 
  

     
 
 

lo.
The Two Counselors. For three males, _
The Votaries of Folly. For a number of femaics,
Aunt Betsy’s Beaux. Four females and twomales,
he ae ‘Suit.

  

 
    
  
  
   
   
     
  
 
   
   
     
   
   
  

 

 

 

 

 

 

Dime School Series=Dialogues.
-
sie M
Ce DIME DIALOGUES No. 7. a
The two beggars. For fourteen females. Two views of life. Colloquy. For two females
The earth-child in fairy-land. For girls, The rights of music. For two females. Tl
Twenty years hence. Two females, one male. A hopeless case. A query in verse. Twogirle, Ww
‘The way to Windham. For two males. The would-be school-teacher. For two males. Be
Woman. A poetic passage at words. Two boys. | Come to life too soon. For three males. ¥
The ’Ologies. A Colloquy. For two males. Kight o’clock. For two little girls, T
How to get rid of a bore. For several boys. True dignity. A colloquy. For two boys, A
Boarding-school. Two males and two females, Grief two expensive. For two males.
Plea for the pledge. For two males, Hamlet and the ghost. For uwo persons,
The ills of dram-drinking. For three boys. Little red riding hood. For two temales. 7
True pride. A colloquy. For two females, New application ofan old rule. Boys and girla, d
The two lecturers. For numerous males, Colored cousins, A colloquy. For two males. 2
aa . I
os : DIME DIALOGUES No. 8. rr
The fairy School. For a number of girls. Getting a photograph. Males and females. q
The enrolling officer. Three girls amd two boys. | The society for general improvement. For girls, J
The base ballenthusiast. For three boys. A nobleman in disguise. Three girls, six boys. J
The ge of the period, For three girls. Great expectations. For two boys. :
The fowl rebellion. Two males and one female. | Playing school. Five females and four males.
Slow but sure. Several males and two females, | Clothes for the heathen. One male, one female,
Caudle’s velocipede. One male and one female. | A hard case. For three boys. .
The figures. For several small children. Ghosts. For ten females and one male. ‘
The trial of Peter Sloper. For seven boys. < |
: DIME DIALOGUES No. 9.
Advertising for help. For a number of females. | The law of human kindness, For two females.
America to agian, greeting. For two boys. Spoiled children, For a mixed school.
The old and the new. Four females one male. | Brutus and Cassius.
Choice of trades. For twelve little boys. Coriolanus and Aufidius.
The lap-dog. For two females. The new scholar. For a number of girls,
The victim. For four females and one male, The self-made man. For three males,
The duelist. For two boys, The May queen (No. 2.) For a school.
The true philosophy. For females and males, Mrs. Leridadd’s economy. 4 boys and 3 girls.
A good education. “For two females. Should women be given the ballot? For boyse a
<<
DIME DIALOGUES No. 10. 4
Mrs. Mark Twain’s shoe. One male, onefemale. | The rehearsal. For a school. yw
The old flag. School festival. For three boys. | 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. The monk and the soldier. For two boys.
Scandal. For numerous males and females. 1176-1876. School festival. For two girls,
The light of love. Vor two boys. Lord Dundreary’s Visit. 2 males and 2 femalex
The flower children. For twelve girls. Witches in the cream. For 3 girls and 8 boys.
The deaf uncle, Foz three boys. Frenchman. Charade. Numerous characters,

A discussion, For jwo boys.

DIME DIALOGUES No, 11.

Appearances are very Jereitful. For six boys. Fashionable dissipation. For two little girls.

e conundrum family. Wor male and female. A school charade. For two boys and two girls.
Curing Betsy. Three mules and four females. Jean Ingelow’s “ Songs of Seven.’ Seven girls,
Jack and the beanstalk. ¥vr five eharacters. A debate. For four boys.

The way to do itand noi tudo it. 3 females. Ragged Dick’s lesson. For three boys.
How to become healthy, ete. Male and female. School charade, with tableau.

 

The only true life. For two girls, A very questionable story. For two boys.
Classic colloquies. For two boys, A sell. For three males,
J. Gustavus Vasa and Cristiera The real gentleman, For two boys.

 

) i. Tamerlane and Bajazet,

: DIME DIALOGUES NO, 12.

Yankee assurance, For severa! charavters, A family not to pattern after. Ten characters. |
- ‘ Boarders wanted. For several characters, | How to man-age. An acting charade, ;
‘When I was young. For two girls. The vacation ecapade. Four boys and teacher® -
The most precious heritage. For two boys. That naughty boy. Three females and a male
The double cure. Two males and four females, | Mad-cap. An acting charade.
The flower-garden fairies, For five littie girls. All is not gold wnat glitters. Acting proverb.
Jemima’s novel. Three males and two fumales. | Sic transit gloris mundi, Acting charade.
Beware of the widows, For three girls.

DIME DIALOGUES NO, 13.

Two o’clock in the arate For three males. Worth, not wealth. For four boys and a teacher,
An indignation meeting. For several females. No such word as fail, For several males,
+ Before and behind thescenes, Several charact’s. | The sleeping beauty. For a schoo!. ;
The noblest ee A number of boys and teacher, | An innocent intrigue. Two males anda female,
Bluo Beard. A dress piece. For girls and boys. | Old Nably, the fortune-teller. For three girls,
; Not so bad as it seetus. For several characters. Boy-talk. For several little boys. cs .
_Acurbstone moral. For two malesand female. | Mother isdead. For several little girls. “

- Monae vo, sentiment, or pmclarond exhibition, | A practical illustration, For two boys and girl,
ecto s segcvee ss a xy ¥,

 

      
       
        

 

    
 
 

  
            
     

    

 

  
 

Dime School Series=Dialogues.

 

   

DIME DIALO

Mrs. Jotias Jones. Three gents and two ladies.
The born genius, For four gents.

More thau one listener. For four gents and lady.
Who on earth is he? For three girls.

The right not to bea pauper. For two boys.
Woman nature wii! out. Fora girls’ school.
Benedict and bachelor. For two boys.

The cost of a dress. For five persons.

The surprise party. For six litue girls,

A practical demonstration. Por three boys.

DIME DIALO

The fairies’ escapade. Numerous characters,

A poet’s perplexities. For six gentlemen.

Ahome cure. For two ladies and one gent.

The good there isin each. A number of boys.
{ Gentlemen or monkey. For two boys.

The littie philosopher., For two little girls.

Aunt Polly’s lesson. For four ladies.

A wind-fall. Acting charade. Fora number,

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 investigating committee. For nine ladies,
A “corner” in rogues. For four boys.

To be happy you must be good. For two little
girls and one boy.
Evanescent glory. For a bevy of boys.

e little peacemaker. For two little girls.
What parts friends. For two little girls.
Martha Washington tea party. For five little

girls in old-time costume.
The evil there is in it. For two young boys.
Wise and foolish little girl. For two girls.
A child’s inquiries. For small child and teacher,
The cooking club. For two girls and others.
How to do it.. For two boys.
A hundred years to come. For boy and girl.
a: ‘Don’t trust faces, For several small boys.
7 Above the skies. Vor two small girls.
q The true heroism. For three little boys.
. a Give us little boys a chance; The story of the
- plum pudding; I’ll bea man; A hittle girl’s
rights speech; Johnny’s opinion of grand-
mothers ; The boastiug hen; He knows der
rest; A small boy’s view of corns; Robby’s

wi Sancho ny

 

 

Fairy wishes. For several characters.

No rose without a thorn. 2 males and 1 female.
Too greedy by half.: For three males.

a One good turn deserves another. For 6 ladies.
> Courting Melinda. For 3 boys and 1 lady.
‘The new scholar. For several boys.

The little intercessor. For four ladies.

GUES No, 14.

Refinement. Acting charade. Several charactera
Conscience, the arbiter, For lady and yent.
How to make mothers happy. For two beys,
A conclusive argument, Vor two girls,

A woman’s blindness, For three girls.

Rum’s work (Temperance) For four genta,
The fatal mistake. For two young ladies,
Eyes and nose. For one gent and one lady.
Retribution. For @ number of boys.

GUES No. 15,

The heir-at-law. For numerous males.

Don’t believe what you hear. For three ladies
A safety rule. For three ladies.

The chief’s resolve, Extract. For two malex
Testing her friends. For several characters,
The foreigner’s t oubles, For two ladies.

The cat without an owner. Several character&
Natural selection, For three gentlemen,

GUES No, 16,

The imps of the trunk room. For five girls,
The boasters, A Colloquy. For two little girl,
Kitty’s funeral. For several little giris,
Stratagem. Charade. For several characters,
Testing her scholars. For numerous scholars,
The world is what we make it Two girls.
The old and the new. For gentleman and lady,

DIME DIALOGUES No, 17.

LITTLE FOLKS’ SPEECHES AND DIALOGUES,

sermon ; Nobody’s chilé ; Nutting at grandpa
Gray's; Little boy’s view of how Columbus
discovered America ; 1 ittle girl’s view; Lite
tle boy’s speech on time; A little boy’s pocke
et; The midnight murder; Rovby Rob’s sece
ond sermon; How the baby came; A boy’s
observations; The new slate; A mother’s
love ; The creownin’ glory ; Baby Lulu; Josh
Billings on the bumble-bee, wren, alligator ;
Died yesterday; The chieken’s mistake; The
heir apparent; Deliver ua from evil; Don’t
want to be good; Only a drunken fellow;
The two little robins; be slow t+ condemng
A nonsense tale; Little boy’s aeclamation, A
child’s desire; Bogus; The goblin cat; Rub-
a-dub ; Calumny ; Little chatterbox; Where
are they; A boy’s view; The twenty ‘roga

Going to school; A morning bath; The it
of Dundee; A fancy; In the sunlight; Phe
new laid egg; The little musician ; Idle Bene
Pottery-man ; Then and now.

 

DIME DIALOGUES No. 18.

Give a dogabad name. For tour gentlemer |

Sprirg-time wishes. For six little girls, t

Lost Charlie ; or, the gipsy’s revenge. For na ‘
merous characters,

A little tramp. For three little boys,

Hard times. For 2 gentlemen and 4 ladies,

The lesson well worth learning. For two mal

 

Antecedents. For 3 gentlemen and 3 ladies.

and two females,

DIME DIALOGUES, NO. 19,

Anawful mystery. Two females and two’ males.
Contentment, For five Ifttle boys,
Who are the saints? For three young girls.
California uncle. Three males and three females.
Be kind to the poor. A little folks’ play.
_ How people are insured. A “ daet.’’
¢ layor. Acting charade. For four eharacters.
| -The smoke fiend. For four boys.
; pees dialogue. Fora Christmas Fes-
_tival. Personated by seven characters.
use ofstudy. For girls,

       

 
  

The refined simpletons. For four ladies, -
Remember Bengon. For three males,
Modern education. Three males and one female,
Mad with too much lore. For three males.
The fairy’s warning. Dress piece, For two girly
nt Eunice’s experiment. For several.

The mysterious GG. Two females and oneal
‘We’ll have to mortgage the farm, For one

and two females, p 2
An old fashioned duet.
The auction, For numerous characterss

    
   
 

 

 

 

~ Good words.

 

  

r-

Dime Scho

DIME DIALOGUES, No, 20.

The wrong man, Three males and three females
Afternoon calls. For two little girls.

Ned’s present. For four boys.

Judge not. For teacher and several scholars,
Telling dreams. For four little folks.

Saved by love. For two boys.

Mistaken identity. Two males and three females.
Couldn’t read English. For 3 males aud 1 iemale.
A little Vesuvius. For six little girls.

“Sold.” For three boys.

DIME DLALOGUES, No. 21,

A successful donation party. For several,

(Out of debt out of danger. For three males and
three females,

Little Red Riding Hood. For two children,

How she made him propose. A duet.

The house on the hid. For four females,

Evidence enough. For two males,

Worth and wealth. For four feinales,

Waterfall. For several.

DIME DIALOGUES, No, 22.

‘The Dark Cupid; or, the mistakes of a morning.
For three gentlemeu and two ladies.

That Ne’er-do-well; or, a brother’s lesson, For
two males and two feinales.

High art; or the new mania. For two girla.
Strange adveutures. For two boys, 4
The kivg’s supper. For four girls.

A practical exemplification, For two boys.

Monsieur Thiers in America; or, Yankee vs.
Frenchman. For four boys. :

Doxy’s diplomacy. 3 females and‘ incident als.’

A Frenchman; or, the outwitted aunt, For two
ladies and one gentleman.

DIME DIALOGUES, No. 23.

Rhoda Hunt’s remedy. For 3fe nales, 1 male.

Hans Schmidt’s recommend. For two malea.

Cheery and Grumble. For two little boys,

The phantom doughnuts. For six females.

Does it pay? For six males,

Company manners and home impoliteness. For
two males, two females and two children.

The gifiddays. For two little boys.

Unfortunate Mr. Brown. For 1 male, 6 females.

The real cost. For two girls.

DIME DIALOGUES, No, 24,

The goddess of liberty. Fornine young ladies,
The three graces. For three little girls.
The music director. For seven males,
A strange secret. For three girls,
“An unjust man. For four males,
are shop girl’s victory. 1 male, 3 females.

he psychometiser. 2 gentlemen, 2 ladies.
“Mean is no word for it. For four ladies.
Whimsical. A number of charact’s, both sexes.
Blessed sso the peacemakers, Seven young girls. |

 

      
  

  
 

ol Series=Dia

 

- —

 

jalogues,

 

Analr castle. For five males and three females. {
City manners and country hearts. For three girls
and one boy.
The silly dispute. For two girls and teacher.
Not one there! For four male characters,
Foot-print. For numerous ¢haracters.
Keeping boarders. Two females and three males.
A cure for good. One lady and two gentlemen,
The credulous wise-acre. For two males.

\Mark Hastings’ return, For four males. ;
Cinderella, For several children. ¥
Too much for Aunt Matilda, For three females.
Wit against wile. Three females and one males
A sudden recovery. For three males. }
The double stratagem. For four females.

Counting chickens before they were hatched.

For four males.

Titania’s banquet. For a number of girls, 4
ya will be boys. For two boys and one girl,

A rainy day; or, the school-girl philosophers.
For three young ladies.

God is love. For a number of scholars,

The way he managed. For 2 males, 2 females,

Fandango. Various characters, white aud others

wise,
The little doctor. Fortwo tiny girls.
A sweet revenge. Forf r boys.
A May day. For three Little gir's,
From the sublime to the ridiculous, For14 males.
Hears not face. For five boys.

 

A bear garden. For three males, two females.

The busy bees. For four littlegirls.

Checkmate. For numerous characters,

School-time. »For two little girls.

Death scene. 2 principal characters and adjunctse

a and gold. Several characters, male and fee
male,

Confound Miller. For three males, two femalese

|Tgnorance vs. justice. For eleven

(Pedants all. For four females.

 

The six brave men. For six boy:

Have you heard the news?

The true queen. Two young girls,

Aslight mistake. 4 males, 1 female, and seve 3
eral auxiliaries. ~

Lazy and busy. Ten little fellows.

The old and young. 1 gentleman, 1 little girl.

That postal card. 3 ladies and 1 gentleman.

Mother Goose and her hottvebolds A whole
school fancy dress dialo,,ue and travestie.

 

 

, DIME DIALOGUES, No. 25,

_ Whe societies of the delectables and les miser-

ables. For two ladies and two gentlemen.
| What each would have. 6 little boys & teacher.
‘Sunshine through the eleuds. For four ladies,
The friend in need. For four males,
The hours. For twelve little girls.
In doors and out. For five little boys. \
Dingbats. For one male and four femates.
‘The pound of flesh. For three boys.
Beware of the peddlets, 1 mixed characters.
For a number of boy
Afriend. For a nuinber of littie g

 

 

address, on receipt of price, 10 cents each.

The true use of wealth. For a whole school,

Gamester. For numerous characters.

Put yourself in his place. For two boys.

Little wise heads. For four little girls.

The regenerators, For five boys.

Crabtree’s wooing. Several characters. =]

Integrity the basis of all success. Two males.

A crooked way made straight, One gentleman
and one Indy.

How to “break in”? young hearts. Two ladies
and one gentleman. ==

 

 

 

(F The above books are sold by Newsdealers everywhere, or will be sent, postpaid, to sux
re

 
 

 

 

 

    

 

Dime School Se

 

ries—Dialogues.

DIME DIALOGUES No, 26,

Poor cousins. Three ladies and two gentlemen.

Mountains and mole-hills. Six ladies and several
spectators.

A test that-did not fail, Six bovs.

Two ways of seeing things. Two little girls.

Don’t count your chickens before they are
hatched. Four ladies and a boy.

Ali is fairia love and war. 3 ladies, 2 gentlemen.

How uncle Josh got rid of the legacy. Two males,
with several transfsrmations.

|The lesson of mercy. Two very small girls,
Practice what you preach. Four ladies,

Politician. Numerous characters.
" sing agent. Two males and twe

 
 

 

 

 

wo males, F
Three females and one male,
Three young ladies.

Two males.

Grub.
A slight scare.
Embodi-d sunshine.

How Jim Peters died.

DIME DIALOGUES No. 27.

Fatsey O’Dowd’s campaign. For three males
and one female.
Hasty inferences not always just. Numerous

boys.
Discontented Annie, For several girls,
A double surprise. Four males and one female.
What was it? For five ladies.
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 street girl’s good angel. For two ladies end
two liffle girls.

©That ungrateful little nigger.” For two males,

If I had the money. For three little girls.

Appearances are deceitful. For several ladies
and one gentleman.

Love’s protest. For two little girls.

An enforced cure. ° For several characters,

Those who preach and those who perform, For
three males.

A gentle conquest, For two young girls,

DIME DIALOGUES No. 28,

A test that told. For six young Iadies and two
gentlemen.

Organizing a debating society. For four boys.

The awakening. For four little girls,

The rebuke proper. For 3 gentlemen, 2 ladies.

Exorcising an evil spirit. For six Jasties.

Both sides of the fence. For four males.

‘The spirits of the wood. For two troupes of girls.

DIME DIALO

Who shall have the dictionary? For six typical
male characters and two females.

The test of bravery. For four boys and teacher.

Fortune’s wheel. For four male characters,

The little esthetes. For six little girls.

The yes and no ofsmoke. For three little boys.

No references. Six gentlemen and three ladies.

An amazing good boy. One male, one female.

What a visitationdid. For several ladies.

No room for the drone. For t.zree little boys.

Arm-chair. For numerous characters,

Measure for meusure.

Saved by a dream,
females,

An infallible sign. For four boys.

A good use for money. For six little

An agreeable profession. For several

For four girls,
For two males and twu

irls,

GUES No, 29.

Simple Simon, For four little boys,

The red light. For four males, two females,

The sweetest thought. For four little girl;

The inbuman monster. 6 ladies, 1 gentleman,

Three little fools. For four small boys.

Beware of the dog! For three ladies and thre
© dodgers”?

Joe Hunt’s hunt. For two boys and two giris,

Rags. For six males,

 

DIME DIALOGUES No. 30.

ferisible heroes, For five young Jadies.
A “colored” lecture. For four males.
Wishes. For five litt!e boys.

Look at home. For three little girls,

Cat and dog. For two little ones, “

’
‘The wsthete cured. For 2 ladies and 3 gentlemen

Jim Broderick’s lesson. For two boys,
The other side of the story. For five females,

Fisherman’s luck, For two males and three/The test that told, For five males.

females,
Why he didn’t hire him, For several “ char-
acters,”?

ooing by proxy.
two ladies,
Learning from evil.

For three gentlemen and

For five boys.

A fortunate mistake. For six young ladies, one The teacher’s ruse, For ten boys and thred

little girl and a boy.

giris.
Analphabetical menagerie. For a whole school.|Colloquy of nations. For eleven personators,

‘The higher education. For eight boys.
The vicissitudes of a milliner, For six females.

Additienal personations for ‘ Goddess of Liberty,?
A scenic piece in Dialogues No, 24,

{> The above hooks are sold by Newsdealers everywhere, or will be sent, post-pafd, to any

gAdress, on receipt of price, 10 cents each.
BEADLE AND ADA

y uy,

MS,

, . .
Publisher+, 98 William St., N.Y.

 

=~

 

  
 
    

 

 

   
      
            
        
 
   
     
        
      
   
       
       
     
   
       
     
        
      
        
 
       
       
       

Dime School Series=Dialogues,

   

 

A lively afternoon. For six males.
A new mother hubbard. For six little girls.
Bread on the waters. For four females.
Forninst the scientists. For two males,
Sloman’s angel. For two males and one female.
What each would do. For six little girls.
Twenty dollars a lesson. For eleven males.
Aunt Betsy’s ruse. For three females and one
male.

DIME DIALOGUES No, 31.

. Barr’s boarders, For various characters,

Nothing like training.” For a number of males,

The bubble. For two little girls,

Medicine for rheumatiz, For two “cullod pus
sons,”

That book agent. For three males and one fe
male,

The well taught lesson. For five little boys.

A turn of the tide. For three male and three - | ‘The

 

female characters.

A true carpet-bagger. For three females,

  

The disconcerted supernaturalist. For one male Applied metaphysics, For six males. ; Th
‘and audience “ voi es,’”” What Humphrey did. For five males and three | f
Grandma Grumbleton’s protest. For a “grand-| females, } }
, ma” and several girl grandchildren. < Th
} . ay
! DIME DIALOGUES No. 382. ae
A persecuted man. For various characters. Polywog versus Wolypog. For numerous citi qT
Too curious for comfort. For two males and two| zens. ; I
females. e Tongue and temper. For two ladies.
Onder false guise. For several females and|The flour of the family. For three ladies and T
children. one gentleman. R
A sure guide. For seven males. Middleton’s mistake, For five males. q
The eight little boys from nonsense land. |
How they see the world. For five little girls, |The man of cheek, For two males.
The doctor’s office. For several characters, male |Mr. and Mrs. Blizzard at home, For man ané
and female. wife. .

Too much side show. For a number of boys.
Sf ae Ponderous was paid. For four young
es.

DIME DIALO

The wrong trunk, For several male eharacters|
and one female,

Saucy Jack Lee. For 4 males and 4 females,

The pretty preacher. For two young ladies,

A contrast. For two little girls.

Only Joe. For five ladies and one gentleman.

The tables turned. For several males.

Why did you doit$ For a school of little chil-

dren.
oe had him there. For one Jady and one gen-
eman.
A report of the affair. For two gentlemen.

DIME DIALO

It’s English you know. For three (or six) males
and eight females.
much misunderstood man, For one male and
one female.

The glass man. For seven maies.

Mrs. Podberry’s views on education. For two
females aud several children, girls.

How she managed him. For one male, one fe-
male, and child. |

The oyster resurrection. For two males and two
females. |

A neighborly quarrel. For two males. |

Blessed are the pure in heart. For four females.

What the boys knew of jt. For a school—all males

; DIME DIALO

In the wrong house. For 2 males and 2 females.
The sham of it all. For 3 females and 1 male. |
The sireet proof. For several males and one fe-)

male.

Too much for Jones and Smith. For two males.

Naughty Boy Blue. For Mother Goose and sev-
eral children.

@niy a working girl. For4 females and 2 males.

How he got even with his enemy. lor 2 males. |

Mrs. Bigson’s victory. For 1 male and 1 female.)

_The mysterious boarder. For three females and

two males, 1

{2 The above books are sold by Newsdealers overywhere, or will be sent, post-paid, to an®

address, on receipt of price, 10 cents each.

BEADLE AND ADAMS, Publishers, 98 William St, N.¥.

Morgan’s money. For five males,
The courtship of Miles Standish, For sehool

A valuable neighbor. For one lady and one boy,
festival. |

GUES No. 33,

Mrs. Arnold’s misconception. For two gentle
men and three ladies.

The year ’round. For twelve impersonators.

Defending the castle. For 2 males and 2 females,

A perfectly veracious man, For one male and
one female.

Sympathetic sympathy. For three males and
two females, :

Ananias at home. For 1 male and 3 females,

The man from Bangor. For one gentleman and
three ladies.

Casabianca in two versions. For two boys,

GUES No, 34,

A warm reception. For 2 males and 2 females,

Supposings. For ten little girls.

When I grow up to be a man. For six little
boys.

Enforcing a moral, For three or four males and
several females.

Playing big folks, For severa) children.

Whit are little girls good for? - For nine little

 

Z

irls.
The bump-scientist’s reception in Clarionville
‘enter. For eight males, or seven males end
one female.
More than she bargained for, For three female
and one male.

GUES No. 35, oe

The Mugwump sisters. Fora number of females,

Dolly Madison’s method. For two males and one
female.

Miss Lighthead im the country. For one male ¢
and one female.

The crnel king. For seven little boys.

Shoddy and Wool. For 5 males and 6 females.

The best profession of all. For four little girlg
and one grown person. =.

Florence Elton’s mistake. Fer two males and —
two females.

The bewitched music-box. For two males.
males,
od pus
one fe-

ys.

three -

three

citi
and

OY.

oo}

  
   
  
  
 

os
ttt

 

 

 

  

 

 

 

  

 

Dime School Serics—hyalogues.

 

—

DIME DIALOGUES No, 36,

The king discrowned. For an entire school.

Meeting of the Bulgertown
society. For 5 or more males and 3 females,

Wise and otherwise. For six little boys.

Moonshine. For six little girls.

Beware of Mr. Oily Gammon. For four males.

Sarab Hannah. For four females,

Tke eowboy cousin.
females.

The proverb children. For six little girls.

hilomelian literary |

For two males and three|

The happiest man in the county, ‘For two malés
and two females.
|The repudiated legacy. For two females,
| Prof. Pachyderm’s mastodon, For four males,
|The too good-looking man. For three males and
| __two females,
tow Cesar conquered. For one female, five
males and a “ ghost.”
Spoons as an intercessor. For three females,
ow Wiggins was cured. For four males,

DIME DIALOGUES No. 37.

The Fairies’ prisoner.

A scenic and dress piece Cherubino and Seraphina.

1 male and 1 femaJa,

for a young ladies’ school, or garden party, or The comic valentine. For 4 boys and teacher.
y ? a party, y

parlor entertainment.
The McFlackertys and McDoozlers.

tales and three females.
The children of the week.
Uncle Raspy’s ruse.
The land of “ once on-a-time.”
Jupiter Johnsu n’s affairs.

female and one outsider.
The bores of a dav.
Rather mixed. For a number of small girls.
The ould Oirish tay. Several males, 2 iemales.

For 7 litile girls.
For 1 male and 4 females,
7 little boys.

For one male and one The charity student.
ch

For 4 males and 6 females. ‘Th

The two Roberts. For five males and one female,

For two Keeping bachelor’s hall. For several males an#

| one female.

|Four wishes. For four little girls.

Things are seldom what they seem,
inales and two females.

For several girls.

. For 3 males and 1 female,

s doctor. For four males and a ghost.

Pre: for an exhibition, For teacher and
three children. |

 

For two

A cate

   

DIME DIALOGUES No 388.

A wild Irishman’s diplomacy.
and four females.

Aunt Deborah in the city. For two females.

A Chinaman in camp. ° For three males.

Playing hostess. For two females and child.

Slightly hilarious. For four males.

What happened to Hannah. For two males and|Ephraim Btack’s politics.

one female.

For five males[Plato Pendexter’s ashes,

For four females an@
two male

The spirit of discontent. For nine little boys,

the good strikers. For six little girls,

The missing essay. For girls and Teacher.

The well taught lesson. For several boys.

For four males ané

 

  

one female:

The awakening of the flowers. For agirl’s school.|The strike that failed. for three boys.

DIME DIALOGUES No 39,

For three males and two females.

Robert’s experiment. For2 males, 2 females.

Quite another state of affairs. For five males.

A flowery conference. For several little girls
and boys.

Slightly mixed. For three acting characters and
children.

Mrs. Dexter’s personal. For 4 males, 2 females

Clothes don’t make the man. For several boys.

Comparisons. For two little girls.

A young mutineer. For a little boy and girl.

Hospitality.

A decisive failures For 1 males and 2 females.

Candor wins the day. For seven females.

Their aspirations. For six boys and one girl.

The big hollow school. For aschool and several)
visitors,

A very clenr demonstration. For two girls.

The dream lesson. Fo r2males and 3 f-maies.

Why he did not like the country. For two boys
and several listeners.

Liberty. A spectacular dialogue for an entire
school or dramatie society. In seven scenes,

 

DIME DIALOG IES No, 40

The widow’s might. For 2 males and 4 females.

Developing a developer. For five males.

A much needed inst .uce. For three males.

A happy understanding. For two boys and two
teachers.

The tragedy of the ten little boys, _

His training day. For 1 male and 9 females

The soctety for the suppression of seandal,
a number of females.

The moral of a dream.
“dwarfs.”

Wanted: a divorce. For 2 males and 1 female.

Meddling with Santa Claus. For a number of
characters.

For

For two boys and several

DIME DIALOGUES No», 41,

The happy termination. For 3 males, 3 females
and 2 policemen.

The tell taletelegram. For 1 male, 1 female.

Too many Smiths. For 8 males, 3 females.

The thirteen original States. For 14 females.

lhe agent and his victim. For 2 males.

Playing the races. For 3 males.

Visit tothe moon. For 2 little girls.

The new school for scaudal. 1 male, 5 females,

Lime Kiln Club logic. For colored persons.

Sreaking in the dominie. For teacher and boys.

 

 

Deceiving to win. For two males and tw
females.

Retre it the better part of valor. For three little
girls and a boy.

The long looked-for come at last. For one male
and three females.

Pat anawers the advertisement. For 2 males,

Uncle David’s party. For a number of parti«
cipants.

Whom the Gods would destroy. For the amateur
stage and for numerous characters.

Sunday School now and then. For 2 little girls.

An hour in the waiting-room. For ten speakers
and nnmerous travelers. S

Watching for Santa Claus. For 5 children.

One of the daughters of the new dispensation.
For 2 males and 1 female.

The highest duty of all. For 5 females.

A double surprise fur the scoopers. For 5 males
and 5 decent

The stars’ contention. For several girls,

The model examination. For a school.

Allee samee Melican man. A monologue.

Screen doors. For 2 males and 2 femalss.

= The above books are sold by Newsdealers everywhere, or will be sent, post-pald, to any

Adres, > receipt

if 10 cer ch.
EADLE AND ‘ADAMS, Publishers; 98 William St., N, YY

  

  

 

 

 
 
  

 

 

    

       

 

| STANDARD DIME SPEAKERS--40 to 80 Pieces in Each Volume,
DIME AMERICAN SPEAKER, No. 1.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  

 

 

    

 

   

 

Young America, Early retriug and ris’g,|J. Jeboom’s oration, | Great lives imperishabi
Birthday o: Washington] A. Ward’s oration, A Dutch cure, The propiecy forthe ye Courts
Plea tur the Maine Jaw,| l'rue nationality, The weather, Uutinished problema, Debt,
Not on the battiefield, !Our natal day, (The heated term, Honor to the dead, Devils
The Italian straggle, | Solferiuo, |’. ilosop iy applied, Inmortality of patriots, Dow,
Independence, Iutellixence the basis of An old b vlad, Webster’s polit’l system Ego &
Pe Our country, e war, [liberty,) Pe.) wise, pound fool-|A vision in the forum, | Fashi
eo The equality of man, Charge of light brigade,! rue cleanliness, lish, ‘The press, Fern 1
be Character of the Revo’n| Aiter the bactle, Sat’d’y night’s enjoy’ts,| Woman’s rights, 1 Good-
The frui.s uf the war, ie glass railroad, “Ina just cause,’” Right of the Governed, Gottli
ee The sewing-machine, eot Mr. Macbeth, |No peace with oppres-|My ladder, | 3ehla
oes True mauhvod, ‘of, on phrenology, sion, Woman, Hose:
, The mystery of life, j Annabel Lee, A tale of a mouse, Alone, {
The ups and downs, | Washington’s name, A thanksgiving surmon,| Che rebellion of 1861, s
t The truly great, Tue sador boy’s syren, jibe cost of riches, vVisunion, }
DIME NATIONAL SPEAKER, No, 2. | The
Onion and its results, |Tecucnseh’s speech, Ohio, Marder will out, Wor
Our country’s future, | Cerritorialexpausion, |Oliver Hazard Perry, Strive for the best, ~ Ant!
The statesman’s labors,| Martha Hopkins, Our domain, Eurly rising, | The
True immortality, The bashful man’s story!Systems of belief, Deeds of kindness, The
: Let the childless weep, |The matter-of-fact. man, |'I'he Indian chiet, Gates of sleep, Ital
Our country’s glory, Rich and poor, The independent farmer|The bugle, The
* Union a household, Seeing the eclipse, Mrs. Grammar’s ball, |A Hoodish gem, Nat
ES Independence bell, Beauties of the law, How the money comes, | Purity of the struggle, Th
The scholar’s dignity, |Ge-lang! git up, Future of the f shions, |Old age, Oss
Thocycles of progress, |The rats of lite, Loyalty to liberty, © Beautiful and trne, In
A Christinas chant, _ |Creowning glory of U.S./Our country first, last,| The worm of the still, Jot
Stability of Christianity, | Three fools, and always, Man and the Infinite, No
The true higher law, | Washington, British influence. Language of the Eagle, | Mi
The one great need, Our great inheritance, Detense of Jackson, Ww. gton, ¢
The ship and the bird, |Eulogy on Heury Ciay,|National hatreds, The Deluge. |

DIME PATRIOTIC SPEAKER, No, 3,

America to the world, |The Trish element, |History of onr flag, Freedom the watchword | Bt
TE d $
j
:

 

Lave of country, Train’s speech, e scher’s address, | Crisis of our nation,

Bight of self-preserva-|Christy’s spevch, We owe to the Union, |Duty of Christian pa
hur ease [tion,} Let me alone, Last speech of Stephen ri

A Keataekian’s appeal, | Brigand-ier General, A. Douglas,

Kenttuecy steadfust, The draft, Lincoln’s message,

‘Wiunidity is treason, Union Square speeches, |Great Bell Roland,

Thealaram, The Union, ~- |The New Year and the

April 15th, 1861, Our country’s call, King Cotton,

The spirit of ’61, The story of an oak tree,| Battle anthem,

The precious heritage, |L-e-g on my leg, The ends of peace,

DIME COMIC SPEAKER, No. 4,

A song of woe, Political stump speech,
Vard’s trip to Richtn’d,| Comic Grainmar, No. %

   

triots,
Turkey Dan’s oration,
A fearless piea,
The onus of slavery,
A foreignor’s tribute,
[Uaion, | The little Zouave,
Catholic cathedral,
The “ Speculators,” +

 

Ente eet a

Klebcyergoss on the war! rs
Age bluntly considered,|A Texan Eulogium,

 

     
  
  
   
  
    
  

Early rising,

The wasp and the bee,

Comic Grammar, No. 1.
N Pm nota sinyle man,

A. Ward’s advice,

Buzfaz on Pickwick,

Romeo and Juliet,

iow to be a fireman,
The United States,
Puff’s ace’t of himself,
Practical phrenolozy,
Beautiful,

Cabbage,

Disagreeable people,
Whatis a bachelor like?

Parody,

The mountebank,
Compound interest,
A sermon on the fevt,
Old dog Jock,

The fishes’ toilet,
Brian O’Linn,

Farewell to the bottle,
The cork leg,

The smack i; school,
Slick’s definition of wifey
Tale of a hat,

The debating club,

A Dutch sermon,

 

 

Crockett to office-seekers| Leeture on loeomotton,

 

Happine:
D. 88,

Og sy Funny folks,

     
       
    
       
       
         
 
     
 

SEC. 1. Pricreizs op Truz Exunétarion.
—Faults in enunciation ; how to avvid them.

Special rules and observations,
EC. Il. Tug Arr cy Orarory.—Sheridan’s
List of the Passions, Tranquillity, Cneerful-
ry ness, Mirth, Raillery, Buffoonery, Joy, Delight,
_ Gravity, Inquiry, Attention, Modesty, Per-
plexity Pity, Grief, Melancholy, Despair,
Fear, Shame, Remorse, Courage, Boasting,
Pride, Obstinacy, Authority, Commanding,
Forbidding, Affirming, Denying, Differen-s,

cveing,Exhorting, Judging, Approving, Ac- |

 

   

uitting, Comdemning, Teaching, Pardoning,

tees Dismissing, Refusing, Granting, De-

pendence, Veneration, Hope Desire, Love, Re-
a wing, Wonder, Admiration,Gratitude,

o riosity, Persuasion, Tempting, Promising, |

 Affactution, Sloth, Intoxication Anger, etc.

   

 

    

DIME ELOCUTIONIST, No. 5.

 

Who is my opponent? |Mrs,Caudle on Umbr'lia

SEC. IIl.. Tan Component ELEMENTS OF AN
Oration.—Kules of Composition as applied to
Words and Phraseg, via.: Purity, Propriety,

recision. As applied Sentences, viz.: ,
Length of Sentence,Clearness, Unity,Strength. e
Figures of Speech; the Exordium, the Narra-
tion, the Proposition, the Confirmation, the
Refutation, the Peroration.

SEC. IV. Representative ExERcises 1x Prose
AND Verse.—-Transition; A Plea for theOx

ilstaff’s Soliloquy on Honor; the Burial of
Lincoln; the Call and Response ; the Bayonet
Charge; History of a Life; the Bugle; the
Bells; Byr: Macbeth and the Dacgers

3 Old Things ; Look Upe

ti; King William Rufus; the Eye; an

Essa onto Musik ; Discoveries of Galileo.

SEC. Y. Opsinvations oF G

7

aid

     
     

 

 

 

 
  
 

lume,

——.

ishable|
the y’e
Udy,

l,
itriots,
ySteum
ui,

i
“4

1, fh

   

 

ime School Serics—s peakers.

 

 

DIME HUMOROUS SPEAKER, No. 6.

Asad story,
Astring of onions,
A tragic story,
Cats, %
Courtship,

ebt,
Devils,
Dow, Jr.’s lectures,
Ego and echo,
Fashionable women,
Fern thistles,
Good-nature,
Gottlieb Klebcyergoss,
3chlackenlichter’s snake
Hosea Biglow’s qinions

 

| 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,
i Paddle your own ca-
| noe,”
Parody on_ * Araby’s
| daughter,’?

 

 

Poetry run mad,

Right names,

Scientitic lectures,

The ager,

The cockney,

The codfish,

Fate ofSergeant Thin,

The features’ quarrel.

Hamerican voodchuck, |

The harp of a soare”|
strings,

The last of the sarpints,

The march to Moscow,

The mysterious guest,

The pump,

 

 

The sea-serpent,

The sceret,

The shoemaker,

The useful doctor,

‘The waterfall,

To the bachelors’ union
league,

United States Presidents

Vagaries of popping the
oe

What L wouldn’t be,

Yankee doodle Aladdin,

Ze Moskeetare,

1933,

DIME STANDARD SPEAKER, No, 7.

“The world we live in,

Woman’s claims.
Authors of our liberty,
The rea] conqueror,
The citizen’s heritage,
Italy,

The mnechanic,

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,

fion.J.M.Stubbs’ views |Good-nature a blessing, | America,

on the situation,
Hans Schwackheimer on

woman’s suffrage,
All for a nomination,
Oldocean, [sea,
The sea,the sea, the open
The starbangled spanner
Stay where you belong,
Life’s what you make it,
Where’s my money?
Speeeh from conscience,

‘an’s relation to society
The limits to happiness,

|The power ot an idea,
|The beneficence of the
patie. e [sea,
Dream of the revelers,

| HowCyrus laid the cable
The prettiest hand,

[P: doxieal,

Little Jerry, the miller,
The neck,

Foggy thoughts,

| The ladies’ man,

| Life,

jane idler,

The unbeliever,

 

The two lives,

The true schoiar,
Judges not infallible,
Fanaticism, {erime,
Instability of successful
Agriculture,

Ireland, [quer,
The péople always con-
Music of labor,

Prussia and Anetra,
Wishing,

The Blarney stone, |

 

 

 

The student of Bonn,
The broken houehold,

DIME STUMP SPEAKER, No. 8.

{Sermon from hard-snell|
Tail-enders, [Baptist,
The value of money,
Meteoric disquisition,
Be sure you are right,
Be ot good cheer,
|Crabbed folks, [shrew,
Taming amasculine
Farmers, [country,
The true greatness of our
N.England & the Union,
The unseen battle-field,
Plea for the Republic,

DIME JUVENILE

A boy’s philosophy,
Hoe out your row,
Six-year-old’s protest,

\ The suicidal cat,

A vulediction,
Popping corn,

The editor, .

The same, in rhyme,
The fairy shoemaker,
What was learned,

” Press on,

The horse,

The svake in the grass,
Tale of the tropics,
Bromley’s speech,

The same, second extract

_ The fisher’s child,

Shakspearian scholar,

A Maiden’s psalm of life,
A mixture,

Plea for

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-plauter,

Little things,

A Baby’s soliloquy,

Repentance,

A_plea for eggs,

Humbug patriotism,

Night after Christmas,
hort legs,

Shrimps on amusements|

 

 

[fallacy,
“Right of secession” a
Life’s sunset,

Human nature,
Lawyers,

Wrongs of the Indians,
Appeal in behalf of Am.
Miseries of war, [liberty
A Lay Sermon,

A dream,
Astronomical,

The moon, zens,
Duties of American citi-
The man,

SPEAKER, No. 9.

How the raven became
black.

A mother’s work,

The same,

end rules,

A sheep atory,

A little Garrapontient

One good turn deserves

My dream, [another,

Rain,

I'll never use tobacco,

A mosaic,

The old bachelor, -

Prayer to light,

Little Jim,

Angelina’s lament,

JohnnyShrimps on boots

Mercy,

Choice of hours,

Poor Richard’s sayings,

{Who killed Tom Rover

 

The Bible,

The purse and the sword
My country,

True moral courage,
What is wart

Butter,

My Deborah Lee,

The race,

The pin and needle,
The modern Puritan,
Immortality of the soul,
Occupation,

Heroisin and daring,

A shot at the decanter,

Temptations of cities,
Broken resolutions,
There is no death,
Races,

A fruitful discourse,

A Frenchman’s dinner,
Unjust national acquivm
The amateur coachmany
The cold water man, _
Permanency of Statesy
Liberty of speech,

John Thompson’s dau’r,
House-cleaning,

It is not your business.

Nothing to de,
Honesty best policy,

| Heaven,

Ho for the fields,

Fashion on the brain,

On Shanghais,

A smile,

Casabianca,

Homeopathic soup,

Nose and eyes,

Malt, [come,
hundred years to

The madman and his

Little sermons, [razor,

Snaflles on electricity,

The two cradles,

The ocean storm.

Do thy little, oft well,

Little puss,

Base-ball, [fever.

Prescription for spring

    
  
    
  
   
  
    
  
 
    
   
   
   
  
     
   
   
   
   
   
  
  
 
  
   
   

 

 

  

Scat +,

yale

      
       
       
     
     
     
       
           
      
   
Dime School Series=Speakers.

 

DIME SPREAD-EAGLE SPEAKER, No. 10,

Ben Buster’s oration,
Hans Von Spiegel’s 4th,
Josh Billings’s ad: ice,
A hard-shell sermon,
The boots,

The squeezer,

Noah and the devil,

A lover’s luck,
Hifalutin Adolphus,
Digestion and Paradise,
Distinction’s disadvant-
Bimith, [ages,
Gushalina Bendibus,

A stock of notions,

Speaking for the sheriff, | Drum-head sermons,
Daking a shweat, Sehnitzerl’s philosopede,
Then and now, “ Woman’s rights,’
Josh Billings’ leeturing,! Luke Lather,
Doctor DeBlister’s ann’t|The hog,
Consignments, Jack Spratt,

Hard lives, New England tragedy,
Dan Bryant’s speech, |The ancient bachelor,
A colored view, Jacob Whittle’s speech,
Orizinal Maud Muller, |Jerks prognosticates,
Nobody, A word with Snooks,
Train of circumstanees.|Sut Lovengood,
Good advice, A mule ride,
The itching palm,

[zers,

Il Trovatore,

Kissing in the street,
Scandalous,

Slightly mixed,

The office-seeker,

Old bachelors,

Woman,

The Niam Niamas,
People will talk,
Swackhamer’s ball,
Who wouldn’t be fire’ng
Don’t depend on dadday
Music of lnbor,

Josh Billings on buz-|The American ensign.

DIME DEBATER AND CHAIRMAN’S GUIDE, No, 11.

Z.—DEBATING SOCIETY.
Its office and usefulness,
_ Formation of,
Constitution of,
By-Laws of,
Rules of government,
Local rules of order,
Local rules of debate,
Subjects for discussion.
IL.—-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,

Preliminary
tion,
Permanent

Summary.
111. —CH AIRMAN’S GUIDE
Ordinary meetings and
assemblies,
The orgavization,
Order of business and
proceedings,
The “ Question”? How
How

organiza-'
organiza-

ion,

The otder of business,

Considering reports, pa-
pers, esc., 2

Ot subsidiary motions,

The due order of eon-
sidering questions,

Committees,

Objects of a committee,

Their powers,

How named,

When not to sit,

Rules of order and pro-
cedure,

How to report,

The committee of the
whole,

it can be treated,
The * Question.”
to be consider d,
Rights to the floor,
Rights of a speaker as
against the chair,
Calling yeas and nays,
Interrupting a vole,
Organization of Delib-
erative Bodies, Con-
ventions, Annual or
General Aasemblies,

 

DIME EXHIBITION SPEAKER, NO.

‘The orator of the day,

‘The heathen Chinee,

‘The land we love,

Jim Bludso,

Be true to yourself,)

Ah Sin’s reply,

A plea for smiles,

The Stanislaus
tific society,

Free Italy,

Ttaly’s alien ruler,

The eurse of one man

power,
The treaty of peace
(i814),

scien-

POPULAR ORATOR,
Panny Butterfly’s ball,
Tropics uncongenial to

greatness,

Live for something,
Civil and religious I{b-

erty, .
Second review of the
grand army,
Dishonesty of politics,
he great commoner,
Character and achieve-
ment, |
“Tean’t,”
“Tt might have beon,”
Don’t strike a man when

The critical moment,
The east and the west,
Is there any money in it?
Are we a nation

Social science,
Influence of liberty,

The patriot’s choice,
The right of the people,
The crowning glory,
The pumpkin,

When yow’re down,
What England has done
The right of neutrality,
The national flag,

Our true future,

Gravelotte, «

All hail!

Emancipation of selence,

Spirit of forgiveness,

Amnesty and love,

Beauty,

Song of labor,

Manifest destiny,

Let it alone!

Disconcerted candidate,

Maud Muller after
Hans Breitman,

What is true happiness,

The Irish of it. A par-
ody,

On keeping at it,

The dread secret,
The treasures of the

Civil service reform,
eep, The true gentleman,

Keep cool, The tragic pa.

The precious freight,

A sketch,

The sword the true ar-
iter,

Aristocracy,

BaronGrimalkin’s death

Obed Snipkins,

A catastrophe,

Cheerfulness,

Mountains,

‘The last lay of the Min-

strel,
The unlucky levers,

A cry for life,
The sabeath,
Gnarled lives,
A good life.
To whom s
thanks?
Resolution,
Never mind,
The Bible,
Christianity our bul-

wark,
The want of the hour,

hall we give

 

 

Miscellaneous,

Treatment of petitions,

The decorum of debate,

Hints to a ehairman.

IV,— DEBATES,

Debate in full:

Which ix the greatest
benefit to his country
—the warrior, states-
man, or poet?

Debates in brief:

I. Is the reading of
works of fiction to be
condemned ¥

Il. Are lawyers a ben-
efit or a curse to so-
ciety ?

V.— QUOTATIONS, AND
PHRASES.
atin.

12.

What we see in the skye
A lecture,

What I wish,

Good manners,

A ballad of Lake Erfe,

Suffrag2,

The Caucasian race,

A review of situation,

Little Breeches,

Hans Donderbeck’swede

 

|
|
\

4 Spank
uw

cing,
A victim of toothache,
Story of the twins,
A cold in the nose,
My uncle Adolphus,

DIME SCHOOL SPEAKER, No. 13.

The midnight

The tae

Do thy little—do it well,
Jesus forever,

SABBATH SCHOOL PrECcES|The heart

B nae gh
jeautiful thon;
A picture of We
Be true to yourself,
young man,
ime arene
‘ospel of autumn,
not harshly,
Courage,
The eternal hymn,
ive for good,
‘The silent city.

 
 
   
 
  
 
 
 
 
 

OE

 

  

TsitB

ime Dialogues and Speakers,

For Schools, Exhibitions,

Gome Entertainments and Amateur Stage,
66 Votumzs, Eaca 100 12mo Paaus.

These Original Dialogues, Minor Dramas, Scenic and Dress
Pieces, and Rostrum Divertisements have now a national recogni-
tion and reputation, for their excellence, availability and singu-
larly varied character, have sent the little volumes into Schools,
Homes and Associations throughout every State and Section of
this Country and the Dominion.

The “Dialogues” number forty-one issues or books, and the
“Speakers” twenty-five. Hach volume of the “Dialogues” con-
tains from fifteen to twenty pieces— expressly prepared for the
series by teachers, dramatic experts, and selected writers — all
skilled in such work:—bence the unbounded success of the series
with Schools of all grades, Scholars of ul ages, Exhibitions and
the Amateur Stage,

The “Speakers,” containing from sixty to seventy pieces each,
run the whole ange of oratory, recitation and declamation, giving
what is kest in eloquence, argument, humor, vernacular and
dialect—prose and verse—and thus making the series a perfect
mine of good things, not ouly for declamation and recitation but
for School and Family Readings,

[ay This series of books has no equal for availability and
merit of matter, and has a wider popularity among teachers,
scholars, schools and amateurs than any series or single volumes
yet published, at any price, in this country.

These books are for sale by all newsdealers, or sent, post paid,
to any address, on receipt of price, ten cents each,

- Beadle and Adams, Publishers,
98 William Street, New York.

   

 
 

 

 

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