The Project Gutenberg EBook of None so Deaf as Those Who Won't Hear, by
Herbert Pelham Curtis
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Title: None so Deaf as Those Who Won't Hear
A Comedietta in one Act
Author: Herbert Pelham Curtis
Release Date: August 22, 2013 [EBook #43536]
Language: English
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BAKER'S EDITION OF PLAYS
None so Deaf as Those
That Won't Hear
Price, 25 Cents
WALTER H. BAKER COMPANY
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BAKER, Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass.
NONE SO DEAF AS THOSE WHO
WON'T HEAR.
A Comedietta in One Act.
By
H. PELHAM CURTIS, U.S.A.,
AUTHOR OF "UNCLE ROBERT," "THE PERFECT FOX," "LYING
WILL OUT," ETC., ETC.
BOSTON
Walter H. Baker & Co
_DRAMATIS PERSONÆ._
SINGLETON CODDLE.
WASHINGTON WHITWELL.
EGLANTINE CODDLE.
JANE SMITH, A SERVANT.
_Costumes modern and appropriate._
COPYRIGHT, 1880,
BY LEE AND SHEPARD.
_All rights reserved._
NONE SO DEAF AS THOSE WHO WON'T HEAR.
SCENE.--_A parlor handsomely furnished, looking out on a garden;
console in each corner; on one a lamp, a flower-vase on the other;
door in flat, and doors right and left; window at right; gun
standing in corner at left; table in front, left, with magazines,
paper, pens, and ink; at right, front, an easy-chair, and small
work-table, on which is a work-basket and hand-bell._
EGLANTINE (_sits at table, reading_). Oh, what dull trash! (_Throws
magazine down._) Ah, me! I can take no interest even in Trollope.
Life is a blank. (_Comes forward._) Did ever any girl suffer as I do?
Nothing to do, nobody to see,--only father to talk to, and he deaf as
a post! (_Sits and looks at vase of flowers._) Well, I'll not stand
_this_. These flowers have been here four days. Disgraceful! (_Rings._)
Jane! (_Rings again. Enter JANE with a letter, in flat._) Jane, how
_can_ you be so neglectful? Look at these old dead flowers. Throw them
away, and get me fresh at once.
JANE. Yes, miss. Your pa is not here, miss?
EGLANTINE (_jumps up_). No. Is it a caller?
JANE. No, miss: a letter.
EGLANTINE. Only a letter! oh, dear! Never any visitors; nothing but
letters now, and none of them for me. I shall die, or go mad. (_Sits._)
JANE. Yes, miss: your pa is a very sot man, and won't never see no
company, since he grew hard of hearing, three years ago. (_Takes the
flowers from vase._)
EGLANTINE. O Jane! how can I bear it? Life is so dull, so dull!
(_Sobs._)
JANE (_wiping lamp-glass_). Yes, miss. And think of me, miss: took into
service for my voice, and obligated to holler at your pa all day long.
Holler? Yes; yell and scream, I calls it.
EGLANTINE. Has nothing been heard from that aurist papa wrote to a
month ago!
JANE. No, miss; not a word. Dear, dear! I shall be a dummy in six
months, I'm sure. I hain't no more voice now than a frog.
EGLANTINE. Ha, ha! It's very sad, Jane. Ha, ha, ha!
JANE. Don't laugh at the misfortunate, Miss Eglantine: 'tain't lucky.
EGLANTINE. Forgive me, Jane: I didn't mean to. I believe I'm
hysterical; and no wonder,--shut up by myself like this, at nineteen.
JANE. No wonder you finds it a bit dull, miss. I don't wonder at
it,--not a mite.
EGLANTINE. And papa seems resolved to keep me unmarried. Half a dozen
proposals already! and he's refused them all.
JANE. Yes, miss; so he have. He says regular, "Not the son-in-law for
me." What kind does he expect, I wonder? A angel?
EGLANTINE. I'm afraid so, Jane. And it's got so bad that nobody now has
the courage to offer, a refusal is so certain. (_Sobs._) Or else I'm
sure that gentleman who danced the whole evening with me a month ago at
Lady Thornton's--
JANE. Yes, miss: I've heard you mention him often.
EGLANTINE. He was dying to offer himself, I'm sure, from the way he
looked at me. But somebody has warned him, of course. (_Weeps._) O
Jane, how tedious, how tedious life is!
JANE. Yes, miss; tedious as tedious! But here comes master. Where is
that letter? Oh! here it be.
(_Enter SINGLETON CODDLE, door R._)
CODDLE (_book in hand, from which he reads._) "Deafness is one of the
most distressing afflictions which can attack mankind." Ah! distressing
indeed! How true! how profoundly true!
JANE (_shouts in his ear_). A letter for you, sir. (_Holds it before
his eyes._)
CODDLE. Ah, Jane! you here? And Eglantine too. (_Takes letter._) You
needn't stick letters into my eye, Jane: you only need tell me you have
them. (_Sits._)
EGLANTINE. Possibly another offer for me. If I could only manage to
peep over his shoulder!
JANE. No need, miss. He's sure to read it out. He can't never hear his
own voice, and don't know but he's reading to himself. He thinks out
loud too; and I knows every thing he has on his mind. It's quite a
blessing, really.
CODDLE. (_Puts on glasses; catches sight of EGLANTINE._) Tut, tut,
Eglantine! Go away, child. This is for me, not you. Ten to one it's
confidential too! (_Crosses left, and reads aloud._) "My dear Coddle,
I flatter myself I have found a son-in-law to your taste at last,--a
nephew of mine, young, well educated, brilliant, and rich. Yours truly,
Pottle."
JANE. Didn't I tell you so, miss?
CODDLE. Ah! all very well, all very well, friend Pottle; but not the
man for _me_.
JANE. There, miss, just what I told ye.
EGLANTINE. I shall be in despair; I shall go crazy.
JANE. Easy, miss, easy. Don't go into no tantrums. For mercy's sake,
calm yourself.
EGLANTINE. Calm myself! When life is the same dull round day after day!
Calm myself! When I never see even a strange cat! Calm myself! Oh, I
cannot endure it! (_Exit R., furious._)
JANE (_carrying out the vase_). Poor young critter! Her pa ain't got no
sense.--Ugh! you old yaller dog! (_Exit L._)
CODDLE. Ah! deafness is indeed a distressing affliction. (_Shakes
his head. A pause._) Still every cloud has its silver side. Without
my deafness I never could have survived the conversation--God
forgive me!--of my poor dear wife. It killed her; for, finding me
providentially beyond her reach, her loquacity struck in, and--there
she was. But now an inscrutable Providence has taken her from me,
(_Sighs deeply_) it would console me to hear a little. The doctors
say they can do nothing. Ignorant rascals! I wrote to a fellow who
advertises to cure deafness instantaneously by electro-acoustico
magnetism, and the impudent impostor hasn't taken the trouble to
answer. The whole world seems determined to thwart me. (_Takes
book again, and reads._) "In treating deafness, it should first be
ascertained whether the tympanum be thickened or perforated, and
whether also the minute bones of the auricular organ are yet intact."
(_Sticks little finger in his ear._) I _think_ they're all right.
(_Reads._) "And, further, be certain that the Eustachian tube is free
from obstruction." I wonder whether my Eustachian tube is obstructed. I
must get Jane to look. I wonder where she is. Jane! (_Rings. Enter JANE
L.; drops flower-pot._) Jane!
JANE. He don't hear nothing. It's quite a pleasure to smash things when
he's round.
CODDLE. Jane!
JANE (_picks up pieces_). Bah! who cares for you? I'll answer when I'm
ready.
CODDLE. Jane!
JANE. Oh, call away! (_Throws pieces out of window._) Heads there!
CODDLE. Jane! (_Rises._) I must go for her. (_Sees her at window;
shouts in her ear._) Jane!
JANE (_puts hands to ears_). Mercy!
CODDLE. This is the fifteenth time I've called you. Are you deaf?
JANE (_courtesies_). Yes, old wretch,--deaf when I want to be. (_Both
come down._)
CODDLE. What do you say?
JANE. Pop, pop, pop, old bother! I'd like to wring your bothersome neck.
CODDLE. Yes, fine weather indeed. Look into my ear, Jane, and tell me
whether my Eustachian tube is obstructed.
JANE. Eustachian tube? What is the old fool after now?
CODDLE. Look in. Why don't you look in?
JANE (_shouts_). What for, sir?
CODDLE. Eustachian tube.
JANE (_shouts_). I can't see nothing, sir.
CODDLE. What do you say?
JANE. Drat him! (_Shouts._) I can't see _nothing_.
CODDLE. Jane, I hope you're not losing your voice. You don't speak half
so loudly as usual.
JANE (_sulkily_). Perhaps I'd better have it swabbed out, then.
CODDLE. Luncheon's ready, do you say? Rather early, isn't it? Jane, I
like you, do you know, because you're such an intelligent creature.
JANE (_shouts_). Yes, sir.
CODDLE. And so much attached to _me_.
JANE (_shouts_). Yes, sir.
CODDLE. Yes: a very faithful, good, affectionate servant, Jane. I
haven't forgotten you in my will, Jane. You'll find I've got you
down there. I won't say how much, but something handsome, depend on
it,--something handsome. (_Sits down, and takes up book again._)
JANE. Something handsome! Five hundred dollars! I've heard him say so
a score of times. He calls that handsome for busting my voice in his
service. The old rat! I hate such mean goings-on. (_Cries outside._)
VOICES. Stop him, stop him!
JANE (_runs to window_). Eh? what's that? (_Gun fired under window._)
CODDLE. Yes, Jane, you'll be satisfied, I promise you. (_Another gun
heard._) Heaven will reward you for your care of me, my faithful girl.
(_Looks up._) Why, where the devil has the woman gone to?
JANE (_at window_). Good gracious! I say, you feller down there! Lord
'a' mercy! Get away from here! This is private property.
CODDLE (_goes to window_). Why, Jane, you seem quite excited.
JANE (_shouts in his ear_). Man with a gun in your garden, smashing the
melon-frames, treading on the flower-beds!--Hey, you feller! Police!
(_Noise of breaking glass._)
CODDLE (_looks out_). The villain is smashing every thing I have in
the world! Another melon-frame! Jane, hand me my gun! I'll shoot the
rascal! (_Seizes gun, JANE takes up a broom._) Follow me, Jane; follow
me. The infernal scoundrel!
JANE. Drat the impident rogue! (_Both exeunt door in flat._)
(_Enter WASHINGTON WHITWELL, left, gun in hand. Slams door behind
him, advances on tiptoe, finger on trigger--glances around._)
WHITWELL. Wrong again. Not here. What can have become of the creature!
(_Sets gun down._) He certainly ran into this house! Egad! whose
house is it, by the way? Never saw a finer hare in my life. In all
my experience I never saw a finer hare! I couldn't have bought him
in the market under thirty cents. (_Rises._) He's cost me a pretty
penny, though. Up at six for a day's shooting. Dog starts a hare in ten
minutes. Aim! Hare goes off, gun don't. Bad cap. Off _I_ go, however,
hot foot after him. He runs into a thicket. Rustic appears. I hail him.
"Hallo, friend! A dollar if you'll start out that hare." A dollar for a
hare worth thirty cents! say thirty-five. Out he comes; dog after him.
Aim again. This time gun goes off, dog don't. Shot him. Worth forty
dollars. Total so far, forty-one dollars. Load again. Hare gives me a
run of five miles. Stop to rest; drop asleep. Wake up, and see hare not
ten yards away, munching a cabbage. Gun again, and after him. He jumps
over a fence; _I_ jump over a fence. He comes down on his fore-paws;
_I_ come down on my fore-paws. He recovers his equilibrium; I recover
mine (on the flat of my back). Suddenly I observe myself to be hunted
by an army of rustics, my dollar friend among them,--well-meaning
people, no doubt,--armed with flails, forks, harrows, and ploughs, and
greedy for my life. They shout; I run. And here I am, after smashing
fifty dollars' worth of glass and things! Total, including dog,
ninety-one dollars, not to mention fine for breaking melon-frames by
some miserable justice's court, say twenty dollars more! Grand total,
let me see: yes, a hundred and twenty dollars, more or less, for a
hare worth thirty-five cents! say forty. (_Noise outside._) Ha! no
rest for the wicked here. (_Picks up gun, rushes for door in flat--met
by CODDLE; runs to door at left--met by JANE._) Caught, by Jupiter!
(_Falls into a chair._)
CODDLE. We've got the villain. Seize him, Jane, seize him!
JANE. Surrender, young man, in the name of the Continental Congress.
(_Collars him, and takes away his gun._)
WHITWELL. This is a pretty fix.
CODDLE. How dare you, sir, violate my privacy? knock down my walls?
smash my melon-frames? fire your abominable gun under my window, sir?
JANE. Lord 'a' mercy! The young man might have killed me. Oh, you
assassinating wretch!
CODDLE. The police will have a few words to say to you before you're an
hour older, you burglar!
WHITWELL. The deuce!
CODDLE. What's your name, sir?
JANE. Ay, what's your name? Tell us that. This is a hanging matter, I'd
have you to know.
WHITWELL (_stammering_). My name? er--er--Whit--no--er--mat.
JANE (_shouts in CODDLE'S ear_). He says his name is Whittermat. Furrin
of course. Mercy! what an escape!
WHITWELL (_aside_). Good idea that. I'm a foreigner! I'll keep it up.
JANE. Didn't you hear me call to you, you man-slaughterer? Are you deaf?
WHITWELL (_aside_). Deaf! Another good idea. I'll keep _that_ up.
CODDLE. What does he say, Jane?
JANE. He don't say nothink, sir.
WHITWELL (_aside_). Now for it. May I ask for a bit of paper? (_Makes
signs of writing._)
CODDLE. What does the scamp say?
JANE (_shouts_). He wants some paper.
CODDLE. Paper! Impudent scoundrel! I'll paper him, and ink him too!
WHITWELL. (_Sees paper on table._) Ah! (_Sits._)
JANE. He's going to write some wizard thing. He'll vanish in a flame of
fire, I warrant ye!
WHITWELL (_gives paper to JANE_). Here, young woman.
JANE (_to CODDLE_). Take it, sir. I dar'n't hold it. Ugh!
CODDLE. What's this? "I am afflicted with total deafness." Ha,
delightful! He says he's deaf. Thank Heaven for all its mercies. He's
deaf. Stone deaf!
JANE. Deef!
CODDLE. So you're deaf, eh? (_Points to ears._) Deaf?
WHITWELL. Third term, by all means. You're right. Gen. Grant, as you
say, of course.
CODDLE. Deaf! He is indeed. A Heaven-sent son-in-law! My idea realized!
Heaven has heard my prayers at last.
JANE. Son-in-law! Mercy presarve us all!
CODDLE. Delightful young man! I must have a little confidential talk
with him, Jane. But don't you go.
JANE. A deef son-in-law! Lord 'a' mercy! must I have a pair on 'em on
my hands!
CODDLE. My afflicted friend, pray take a chair. (_WHITWELL takes no
notice._) Delicious! he don't hear a sound. (_Louder._) Take a seat.
(_Shouts._) Seat!
WHITWELL (_bows_). Nothing to eat: thanks.
CODDLE. Charming! Overflowing with intellect. Never again disbelieve in
special providences. (_Signs to WHITWELL to sit down._)
WHITWELL (_points to easy-chair_). After you, venerable sir.
CODDLE. The manners of a prince of the blood! Kind Heaven, I thank
thee! (_Both sit._)
JANE. Deary me, deary me! A pair of posts, like, and nary a trumpet
between 'em, except me.
CODDLE (_looks at WHITWELL_). Young man, you look surprised at the
interest I take in you.
WHITWELL. No, sir, I prefer shad.
CODDLE. What does he say? (_Jumps up._) Jane, who knows but he's
already married! (_Sits, shouts._) Have you a wife?
WHITWELL. Yes, sir; always with a knife.
JANE (_shouts_). Have you a wife? A wife?
WHITWELL. All my life? Yes.
JANE (_shouts_). I say, have you a wife?
WHITWELL. A wife? No.
JANE. Drat him! he's single, and marries Eglantine for sartain.
CODDLE. He said no, I thought. (_Shouts._) Are you a bachelor?
(_Shouts._) A bachelor? Bachelor? (_Projects his ear._)
WHITWELL. Yes.
CODDLE (_shouts_). What do you say?
WHITWELL (_roars_). Yes! By Jove, _he's_ deaf, and no mistake.
CODDLE. He said yes, didn't he? (_Rises._) A bachelor! Glorious!
(_Roars._) Will you dine with us?
WHITWELL. Lime-juice? with the shad? delicious!
CODDLE. Dine with us?
WHITWELL. With the greatest pleasure.
CODDLE. Haven't the leisure? Oh, yes, you have! We'll dine early. I'll
take no refusal.--Jane, dinner at five.
JANE. Yes, sir. (_Courtesies._) Yah, old crosspatch! with your
providential son-in-laws, and your bachelors, and your dine-at-fives.
CODDLE. No, thank you, Jane; not fish-balls. Curried lamb I prefer. Go,
give the order at once.
JANE. Bah! with your fish-balls and your curries. Oh, if it wasn't for
that trumpery legacy! Yah! (_Exit L., snarling._)
CODDLE. Faithful Jane; invaluable friend! What should I do without her?
WHITWELL (_loudly_). My dear sir, is it possible you suffer such
insolence?
CODDLE (_shouts_). You're quite right. Yes, a perfect treasure, my
young friend. A model, I assure you.
WHITWELL (_aside_). Well, after that, deaf isn't the word for it.
CODDLE (_rises, shuts doors and window, sets gun in corner, then sits
near WHITWELL. Shouts._) Now, my _dear_ friend, let us have a little
talk; a confidential talk, eh!
WHITWELL. Confidential, in a bellow like that!
CODDLE (_shouts_). I wish to be perfectly frank. I asked you to dinner,
not that you might eat.
WHITWELL (_aside_). What for, then, I'd like to know?
CODDLE (_shouts_). Had you been a married man, I would have sent you
to jail with pleasure; but you're a bachelor. Now, I'm a father, with
a dear daughter as happy as the day is long. Possibly in every respect
you may not suit her.
WHITWELL (_picks up hat_). Does the old dolt mean to insult me!
CODDLE (_shouting_). But you suit _me_, my friend, to a T; and I offer
you her hand, plump, no more words about it.
WHITWELL. Sir; (_Aside._) She's humpbacked, I'll stake my life, a
dromedary!
CODDLE (_shouts_). Between ourselves, sir,--in the strictest
confidence, mind,--she will bring you a nest-egg of fifty thousand
dollars.
WHITWELL (_aside_). A double hump, then, beyond all doubt. Not a
dromedary,--a camel! a backtrian! (_Bows._) (_Shouts._) Sir, I
appreciate the honor, but I--(_Going._)
CODDLE. Not so fast; you can't go to her yet. If you could have heard a
word she said, you shouldn't have my daughter. Do you catch my idea?
WHITWELL (_shouts_). With great difficulty, like my hare.
CODDLE (_shouts_). Perhaps you may not have noticed that I'm a trifle
deaf.
WHITWELL. Ha, ha! a trifle deaf! I should say so. (_Shouts._) I think I
did notice it.
CODDLE. A little hard of hearing, so to speak.
WHITWELL (_shouts_). You must be joking.
CODDLE. Effect of smoking? Tut! I never smoke,--or hardly ever. You
see, young man, I live here entirely alone with my daughter. She talks
with nobody but _me_, and is as happy as a bird the livelong day.
WHITWELL (_aside_). She must have a sweet old time of it.
CODDLE. Now, suppose I were to take for a son-in-law one of the dozen
who have already teased my life out for her,--a fellow with his ears
entirely normal: of course they'd talk together in their natural
voice, and force me to be incessantly calling out, "What's that you're
saying?" "I can't hear; say that again." You understand? Ah! the
young are so selfish. The thing's preposterous, of course. Now, with
a son-in-law like yourself,--deaf as a door-post,--this annoyance
couldn't happen. You'd shout at your wife, she'd shout back, of course,
and I'd hear the whole conversation. Catch the idea?
WHITWELL (_shouts_). Fear? Oh, no! I ain't afraid. (_Aside._) The old
scoundrel looks out for number one, don't he?
(_Enter JANE, door in F., with visiting-card._)
CODDLE (_shouts_). It's a bargain, then? Shake hands on it, my boy. I
get an audible son-in-law, you, a charming wife.
WHITWELL (_aside_). Charming, eh? Ah! she with a double hump on her
back, and he has the face to say she's charming.
JANE. Oh, dear! we're in for another deefy in the family. (_Shouts._) A
gentleman to see you, sir.
CODDLE. Partridges? Yes, Jane, they'll do nicely. (_Shouts._) Now, my
boy, before you see your future bride, you'll want to fix up a little,
eh? (_Points to door, R._) Step in there, my dear friend, and arrange
your dress.
WHITWELL (_shakes his head_). (_Shouts._) Distress? Not a bit. It
delights me, sir. (_Aside._) This scrape I'm in begins to look
alarming.
CODDLE. The dear boy! he _is_ deaf, indeed. (_Pushes him out._) Be
off, lad, be off. Find all you want in there. (_Motions to brush his
hair, &c._) Brushes, combs, collars, and a razor. (_Exit WHITWELL, R._)
I felt certain a merciful Providence would send me the right husband
for Eglantine at last. Jane, you here yet? Set the table for four,
remember. Every thing's settled. He accepts. What have you there? a
card?
JANE (_shouts_). Yes, sir. Oh, you old botheration!
CODDLE. Good heavens!
JANE. Lawks! what now?
CODDLE. The man himself.
JANE. What man? Land's sake! he'll be the death of me.
CODDLE. In the library at this moment! Dear, faithful, affectionate
Jane, wish me joy! The doctor has come at last! (_Exit R. 1 E._)
(_EGLANTINE enters R. as her father runs out._)
EGLANTINE. Jane, is any thing the matter with papa? Isn't he well?
JANE. Yes, miss, he's well enough. He's found that son-in-law of
his'n,--that angel!
EGLANTINE. Angel? son-in-law?
JANE. That's all the matter with _him_.
EGLANTINE. Son-in-law? Good heavens! Where is he?
JANE. In that there room, a-cleaning hisself.
EGLANTINE. Did you see him? Is he young? Is he handsome?
JANE (_impressively_). You've heared of the sacrifice of Abraham, Miss
Eglantine?
EGLANTINE. Certainly.
JANE (_slowly_). Well, 'tain't a circumstance to the sacrifice of
Coddle!
EGLANTINE. Jane, what do you mean?
JANE. Maybe you know, miss, that, in the matter of hearing, your pa is
deficient?
EGLANTINE. Yes, yes! Go on.
JANE (_slowly_). Alongside of the feller he's picked out for your beau,
your pa can hear the grass grow on the mounting-top, easy!
EGLANTINE. Deaf?
JANE. Not deef, miss; deef ain't a touch to it.
EGLANTINE. Deaf? it's out of the question! I won't have him! I refuse
him! A hundred thousand times I refuse such a husband.
JANE. Quite right, miss. He'd be the death of me. Your pa can't marry
you without your consent: don't give it.
EGLANTINE. Never! They don't know me. Cruel! cruel! (_Weeps._)
JANE. So it be, Miss Eglantine; so it be. I never see the beat on't.
Better give him the mitten out of hand, miss.
EGLANTINE. Instantly, if he were here. The wretch! How dare he?
JANE. I'll call him. (_To door. Knocks._) Mr. Whittermat! I say!--He's
furrin, miss.--Mr. Whittermat! (_Knocks furiously._)
(_WHITWELL comes out of chamber; sees EGLANTINE._)
WHITWELL (_aside_). Ha! my partner at Lady Thornton's!
EGLANTINE (_aside_). Why, this is the gentleman I danced with at Sir
Edward's! What nonsense is this about his being deaf? Jane, this
gentleman hears as well as I do myself. What do you mean?
JANE. Does he, miss? Reckon not. You shall see.
WHITWELL (_aside_). How annoying I can't give a hint to Miss Coddle! If
that troublesome minx were only out of the way, now!
JANE (_in ordinary voice_). Young man, you may suit Mr. Coddle, and I
des'say you does, but you don't suit _here_. So git up and git.
EGLANTINE. Jane!
JANE. Pshaw! Miss Eglantine, he can't hear nary a sound.
WHITWELL (_aside_). _You_ couldn't, if my finger and thumb were to meet
on your ear, you vixen! (_To EGLANTINE._) Miss Coddle is excessively
kind to receive me with such condescending politeness.
JANE. Ha, ha, ha! I told you so, Miss Eglantine. He thinks I paid him a
compliment, sartain as yeast.
EGLANTINE. Very strange! When I met this poor gentleman at Lady
Thornton's, he was not afflicted in this way.
JANE. Wasn't he, miss? Well, he's paying for all his sins now. It's
providential, I've no doubt.
WHITWELL (_aloud_). Pity me, Miss Coddle. A dreadful misfortune has
befallen me since I had the pleasure of meeting you at the Thorntons'.
My horse fell with me, and in falling I struck on my head. I have been
totally deaf ever since.
EGLANTINE. Poor, poor young man! My heart bleeds for him.
WHITWELL. Ordinary conversation I am incapable of hearing; but you,
Miss Coddle, whose loveliness has never been absent from my memory
since that happy day, you I am certain I could understand with ease. My
eyes will help me to interpret the movements of your lips. Speak to me,
and the poor sufferer whose sorrows awake your healing pity will surely
hear.
EGLANTINE. Can this be possible?
WHITWELL. You said, "Can this be possible?" I am sure.
EGLANTINE. Yes.
WHITWELL. I knew it.
JANE. The dickens! Can he hear with his eyes? (_Aside._) I hope old
Coddle won't never get that 'ere accomplishment.
EGLANTINE. Oh, how sad! What a misfortune! But a deaf husband! Oh,
impossible! (_Exit slowly, I. U., much distressed._)
WHITWELL (_follows to door_). Stay, oh, stay, Miss Coddle!
JANE (_laughing_). Ha, ha! Don't flatter yourself, puppy. She's not for
you, jolterhead!
WHITWELL (_shakes JANE violently_). I'm a jolterhead, am I? A puppy, am
I?
JANE. Lord forgive me, I do believe he can hear! (_Drops into chair._)
WHITWELL (_pulls her up_). Yes, vixen! For you I hear perfectly. For
your master, it suits me to be deaf. And, if you dare to betray me,
I'll let him know your treachery. I heard your impudent speeches, every
one of them.
JANE. Oh, for mercy's sake, Mr. Whittermat, don't do that! My hair
would turn snow in a single night! Think of my legacy!
WHITWELL. Silence for silence, then, you wretched woman.
JANE. Certainly, certainly, Mr. Whittermat. Besides, now you ain't deaf
no longer, I like you first-rate. I accept your addresses j'yful.
WHITWELL. Lucky for you, you witch.
CODDLE (_outside_). Jane!
JANE. Oh, sir, now pray be careful. He's as spiteful as spiteful. If he
finds you out, all the fat'll be in the fire.
WHITWELL. Be quite easy, Jane. To win Eglantine I'll be a horse-post, a
tomb-stone. Fire a thousand-pounder at my ear, and I'll not wink.
CODDLE (_outside_). Jane, Jane! I say.
JANE. Step into the garden, Mr. Whittermat; and when I ring the
dinner-bell, don't you take no notice.
WHITWELL. I'm fly. But ain't I hungry, though, by Jove! Don't forget me.
JANE (_pushing him out C._). I'll come out and call you. (_Exeunt L._)
(_Enter CODDLE, R._)
CODDLE. A miracle! A perfect miracle. Wonderful electro-acoustico-
galvanism! I can hear! I can hear! I can hear!
(_Enter EGLANTINE._)
EGLANTINE (_screams_). Papa, love!
CODDLE (_claps hands to his ears_). Come here, my pet. Give me a kiss,
my darling. Wish your father joy. I have a surprise for you, sweet one.
EGLANTINE (_shouts_). I know what it is, papa. (_Sadly._)
CODDLE. Don't scream so, Eglantine. It's impossible you should know it.
EGLANTINE. Know what, papa?
CODDLE. That I'm cured of my deafness. I can hear!
EGLANTINE. What! Is it possible?
CODDLE. Yes, cured miraculously by that wonderful aurist, with his
electro-magnetico--no, no; electro-galvanico--no, no; pshaw! no matter.
He's cured me in a flash!
EGLANTINE (_shouts_). O papa! How delightful!
CODDLE (_covering his ears_). Softly, my darling, softly. You kill me!
I hear almost too well. You deafen me. My hearing is now abnormal;
actually abnormal, it is so acute.
EGLANTINE (_aside_). Perhaps _he_ can be cured, then. (_Shouts._)
Dearest papa, you cannot conceive how delighted I am.
CODDLE. Whisper, Eglantine, for Heaven's sake! You, torture me!
EGLANTINE (_shouts_). Yes, papa.
CODDLE. Sh--sh--for mercy's sake!
EGLANTINE (_softly_). Forgive me, papa, it's habit. O papa, I've seen
him!
CODDLE (_aside_). I hear every word. Seen whom?
EGLANTINE. The gentleman you have chosen for my husband.
CODDLE. Husband? Oh, ah! I'd forgotten him. (_Aside._) I really am
cured!
EGLANTINE. Poor young man! I was miserable at first. I cried, oh, so
hard!
CODDLE. Darling, you mustn't cry any more.
EGLANTINE. No, papa, I won't, for I like him extremely now. He's so
handsome, and so amiable! I've met him before.
CODDLE. Tut, tut, child! I'll see him hanged first.
EGLANTINE. What? Why, papa, you _asked_ him to marry me, Jane says.
CODDLE. Yes, when I was deaf. Now, however--what! marry my darling to a
deaf man? Never!
EGLANTINE. O papa, you are cured: perhaps he can be cured in the same
way.
CODDLE. Impossible! He's too deaf. I never knew a worse case.
EGLANTINE. The doctor might try.
CODDLE. Impossible, I tell you. Besides, he's gone away.
EGLANTINE. Let's send after him.
CODDLE. Not another word, my love, about that horrible deaf fellow! I
asked him to dine here to-day, like an old ass; but I'll pack him off
immediately after.
EGLANTINE (_angrily_). Another offer thrown away! Papa, you will kill
me with your cruelty. (_Weeps._)
CODDLE. Pooh, darling, I've another, much better offer on hand.
I got a letter this morning from my friend Pottle. His favorite
nephew--charming fellow.
EGLANTINE (_sobbing_). I won't take him.
CODDLE. Eglantine, a capital offer, I tell you. Capital! Young,
brilliant, rich.
EGLANTINE. I won't take him! I won't take him! I won't take him!
(_Stamps._)
CODDLE. But, Eglantine--
EGLANTINE. No, no, no, no, no! I'll die an old maid first! I'll kill
myself if I can't marry the man I love. (_Exit, weeping._)
CODDLE. (_Solus._) The image of her mother! The villain has bewitched
her! And to think I've asked him to dinner! A scamp I don't know, and
never heard of, and who came into my house like a murderer, smashing
all my hot-houses! Confound him, I'll insult him till he can't see
out of his eyes! I'll dine him with a vengeance! And I'll hand him
over to the police afterwards for malicious mischief--the horrid deaf
ruffian! The audacity of daring to demand my daughter's hand! Deaf as
he is! (_Bell heard._) Ha! what's that infernal noise? A fire? (_Opens
window._) Bah! Jane ringing the dinner-bell. Stop, stop, stop that
devilish tocsin! (_Looks down into garden._) There sits the miscreant,
reading a paper, and hearing nothing of a bell loud enough to wake the
dead. Detestable blockhead! There goes Jane to call him. Faithful Jane!
I long to witness the joy which irradiates her face, dear soul, when I
tell her I can hear. She loves me _so_ sincerely! (_Calls._) Jane!--A
servant of an extinct species. None like her nowadays. Jane, Jane!
(_Enter JANE with soup-tureen._) I've news for you, my faithful Jane.
JANE. Oh, shut up!
CODDLE. Eh! (_Looks round in bewilderment._)
JANE (_sets table, puts soup, &c., on it_). There's your soup, old
Coddle. Mollycoddle, I calls you!
CODDLE (_aside_). Bless my soul! she's speaking to me, I think. Can it
be possible? Mollycoddle!
JANE. If it war'n't for that tuppenny legacy, old Cod, I'd do my best
to pop you into an asylum for idiots. Yar! (_Exit, C., meets WHITWELL._)
CODDLE. Old Cod! So this is her boasted fidelity, her undying
affection! Why, the faithless, abominable, ungrateful, treacherous
vixen! But her face is enough to show the vile blackness of her heart!
I've suspected her for months. After all my kindness to her, too! And
the money I've bequeathed her. She sha'n't stay another twenty-four
hours in my house. (_Sees WHITWELL._) Nor you either, you swindling
vagabond.
WHITWELL. Hallo, the wind's shifted with a vengeance! (_Shouts._) Thank
you, you're very kind. I accept your suggestion with great pleasure.
CODDLE. Confound his impertinence! (_Bows._) Very sorry I invited you,
you scamp! Hope you'll find my dinner uneatable.
WHITWELL. What can have happened? Does he suspect me? (_Shouts._) Very
true; a lovely prospect indeed.
CODDLE. Bah! the beast! A man as deaf as this fellow (_bows, and points
to table_) should be hanged as a warning. (_Politely._) This is your
last visit here, I assure you.
WHITWELL. If it were only lawful to kick one's father-in-law, I'd do it
on the spot. (_Shouts._) Your unvarying kindness to a mere stranger,
sir, is an honor to human nature.
CODDLE (_points_). Take a chair, sir. (_Pulls away best chair, and goes
for another._) No, no: shot if he shall have the best chair in the
house! If he don't like it, he can lump it.
WHITWELL. Mighty polite! Ah! I see. He's testing me. I'll humor him.
CODDLE (_returns with a stool_). Here's the proper seat for you, you
pig! (_Shouts._) I offer you this with the greatest pleasure.
WHITWELL (_shouts_). Thanks, thanks. (_Drops voice._) You intolerable
old brute!
CODDLE. Ha!
WHITWELL (_bowing politely_). If you're ever my father-in-law, I'll
show you how to treat a gentleman.
CODDLE. His father-in-law! I'll give Eglantine to a coal-heaver
first,--the animal! (_Shouts._) Pray be seated, (_drops voice_) and
choke yourself.
WHITWELL (_shouts_). One gets a very fine appetite after a hard day's
sport. (_Drops voice._) Atrocious old ruffian!
CODDLE. Old ruffian! This is insufferable. (_They sit._)
WHITWELL (_shouts_). Will not Miss Coddle dine with us to-day?
CODDLE. Jackanapes! Not if I know it. (_Shouts._) She's not well. This
soup is cold, I fear. (_Offers some._)
WHITWELL. Eat it yourself, old foozle. (_Bows courteously a refusal._)
CODDLE. Infamous puppy! (_Shouts._) Nay, I insist. (_Drops voice._)
It's smoked,--just fit for you.
WHITWELL (_shouts_). Thanks, no: never eat soup. (_Drops voice._) Old
savage, lucky for you I adore your lovely daughter!
CODDLE. Shall I pitch this tureen at his head?--Jane! (_Enter JANE with
a dish._) Take off the soup, Jane. This gentleman won't have any. What
have you there?
JANE (_shouts_). Partridge and spinach, sir. (_Puts dish on table._)
WHITWELL (_shouts_). A delicious dish, Mr. Coddle,--my favorite.
CODDLE (_shouts_). Yes? (_Puts partridge on his own plate._) Jane can't
boil spinach. I hate spinach. (_Helps WHITWELL to the spinach._)
WHITWELL (_rises_). I can't stand this. This is a little too much!
CODDLE (_shouts_). Nothing more? Good! (_Drops voice._) Get rid of you
all the sooner.--Jane, cigars. Give me a Havana; hand Mr. Whittermat a
stogy. (_Crosses to R._)
WHITWELL (_aside, furious_). How much longer shall I stand this?
JANE (_aside to WHITWELL_). Hush! He don't know you hear him. Don't
upset your fish-kittle.
WHITWELL (_aside_). Very well. I'd like to drop him into it.
JANE. Hoity, toity! Now see me. We'll have a little fun with the old
sheep.
CODDLE. Jane, where are those cigars?
JANE (_takes box from console, and offers it; shouts_). Here they be.
(_Drops voice._) Jackass! tyrant! muttonhead! I hope they'll turn your
stomick.
CODDLE (_seizes her ear_). What? You infamous minx! I a jackass? I a
tyrant? I a muttonhead? (_Pulls her round._) I'm a sheep, am I? I'm a
mollycoddle, am I? You call me an idiot, do you?
JANE (_screams_). Ah! he hears, he hears.
CODDLE. You'll have a little fun out of the old sheep, will you? You
tell me to shut up, eh? Clap me into an asylum, will you? (_Lets go her
ear._)
JANE. A miracle! I'm dead. (_Crosses to L., screaming._)
(_Enter EGLANTINE._)
EGLANTINE. Papa! For heaven's sake, what _is_ the matter?
WHITWELL (_stupefied_). What, Mr. Coddle! I thought you were deaf. Is
it possible you can hear?
CODDLE (_shouts_). Perfectly well, sir; and so it seems can you. I
will repeat, if you wish it, every one of those delectable compliments
you paid me five minutes since.
WHITWELL (_to EGLANTINE_). I can't believe my ears. Miss Coddle, has he
been shamming deafness, then, all this time?
EGLANTINE (_shouts_). No, indeed. A doctor cured his deafness only half
an hour ago.
JANE. Ah! Dear old master, was it kind to deceive me in this fashion?
Why didn't ye tell me? Ah! now ye can hear, I love you tenderer than
ever.
CODDLE. Tell you, you pig, you minx! I tell you to walk out of my house.
WHITWELL (_aside_). I'll take you into my service.
CODDLE (_loud to WHITWELL_). Come, sir, you too. You are an impostor,
sir. Leave my house.
EGLANTINE. Ah, papa! I love him.
WHITWELL. What do I hear? You love me, Eglantine?
EGLANTINE (_shrieks_). Ah-h-h! I forgot you could hear. (_Hides her
face in her hands._)
WHITWELL. Thank Heaven, I can! or I should have lost the rapture of
that sweet avowal. Mr. Coddle, I love--I adore your daughter. You heard
a moment since the confession that escaped her innocent lips. Surely
you cannot turn a deaf ear to the voice of nature, and see us both
miserable for life. Remember, sir, you have now no deaf ear to turn. Be
merciful.
CODDLE. What, sir! Give you my daughter after all your frightful
insults? Never!
WHITWELL. Remember how you treated me, sir; and reflect, too, that you
began it. Insults are not insults unless intended to be heard. For
every thing I said, I apologize from the bottom of my heart. Ah, sir!
be considerate, lenient.
CODDLE (_after a pause_). Do you retract "old ruffian"?
WHITWELL. Certainly.
EGLANTINE. Ah, papa! forgive him. He retracts "old ruffian."
CODDLE. And "brute"?
WHITWELL. Of course.
CODDLE. And "old foozle"?
WHITWELL. Entirely, sir.
_Eglantine._ Papa, of course he does.
CODDLE (_a pause_). No, Mr. Whittermat, I can't give my daughter to
a man I never heard of in my life,--and with such a preposterous name
too! No, no.
WHITWELL. My name is Whitwell, my dear sir,--not Whittermat: nephew of
your old friend Benjamin Pottle.
CODDLE. God bless me! Nephew of Ben Pottle! Why didn't you say so
before? What did you tell me your name was Whittermat for?
WHITWELL. Some singular mistake, sir: I never did. Can't imagine how
the mistake could have occurred.
CODDLE. Well, well, Mr. Whitwell, this alters the case. Your uncle
wrote me about you. Extraordinary coincidence! Well, since you heard
all _I_ said--Ha, ha, ha!
WHITWELL. Of course I did. Ha, ha, ha! For every Roland of mine you
gave me two Olivers at least. Ha, ha, ha!
CODDLE. Neither of us deaf, eh? Diamond cut diamond,--ha, ha, ha! Pull
dog, pull devil, eh? (_Bursting with laughter. All laugh heartily._)
JANE. He, he, he! I never thought I'd live to see this happy day,
master.
CODDLE. Hold your tongue, you impudent cat! Quit my house. Mollycoddle,
indeed!
JANE. O Mr. Coddle, you won't go for to turn off a faithful servant in
this way. (_Aside to WHITWELL._) That legacy's lost. (_To CODDLE._) Ah,
master dear! you won't find nobody else as'll work their fingers to the
bone, and their voice to a thread-paper, as I have: up early and down
late, and yelling and screeching from morning till night. Well, the
house will go to rack and ruin when I'm gone,--that's one comfort.
WHITWELL (_aside to JANE_). The money's yours, cash down, the day of my
wedding.
CODDLE. Well, well, Jane, I'll forgive you, for luck. I'm too happy to
bear malice. But I wish you knew how to boil spinach.
JANE. I'll learn right straight off, sir.
CODDLE. Well, hang delay, children! I'll engage Dr. Harrold for a week
from to-day, and invite all our friends (_to the audience_) to witness
the wedding. Church of the Holy Cross, remember. No low church for me.
All who mean to come will please signify it by clapping their hands,
and the harder the better. Not many refusals here. (_Curtain falls._)
R. EGLANTINE. WHITWELL. CODDLE. JANE. L.
HITTY'S SERVICE FLAG
A Comedy in Two Acts
_By Gladys Ruth Bridgham_
Eleven female characters. Costumes, modern; scenery, an interior. Plays
an hour and a quarter. Hitty, a patriotic spinster, quite alone in the
world, nevertheless hangs up a service flag in her window without any
right to do so, and opens a Tea Room for the benefit of the Red Cross.
She gives shelter to Stella Hassy under circumstances that close other
doors against her, and offers refuge to Marjorie Winslow and her little
daughter, whose father in France finally gives her the right to the
flag. A strong dramatic presentation of a lovable character and an
ideal patriotism. Strongly recommended, especially for women's clubs.
_Price, 25 cents_
CHARACTERS
MEHITABLE JUDSON, _aged 70_.
LUELLA PERKINS, _aged 40_.
STASIA BROWN, _aged 40_.
MILDRED EMERSON, _aged 16_.
MARJORIE WINSLOW, _aged 25_.
BARBARA WINSLOW, _her daughter, aged 6_.
STELLA HASSY, _aged 25, but claims to be younger_.
MRS. IRVING WINSLOW, _aged 45_.
MARION WINSLOW, _her daughter, aged 20_.
MRS. ESTERBROOK, _aged 45_.
MRS. COBB, _anywhere from 40 to 60_.
THE KNITTING CLUB MEETS
A Comedy in One Act
_By Helen Sherman Griffith_
Nine female characters. Costumes, modern; scenery, an interior. Plays
half an hour. Eleanor will not forego luxuries nor in other ways "do
her bit," putting herself before her country; but when her old enemy,
Jane Rivers, comes to the Knitting Club straight from France to tell
the story of her experiences, she is moved to forget her quarrel and
leads them all in her sacrifices to the cause. An admirably stimulating
piece, ending with a "melting pot" to which the audience may also be
asked to contribute. Urged as a decided novelty in patriotic plays.
_Price, 25 cents_
GETTING THE RANGE
A Comedy in One Act
_By Helen Sherman Griffith_
Eight female characters. Costumes, modern; scenery, an exterior. Well
suited for out-of-door performances. Plays an hour and a quarter.
Information of value to the enemy somehow leaks out from a frontier
town and the leak cannot be found or stopped. But Captain Brooke, of
the Secret Service, finally locates the offender amid a maze of false
clues, in the person of a washerwoman who hangs out her clothes day
after day in ways and places to give the desired information. A capital
play, well recommended.
_Price, 25 cents_
LUCINDA SPEAKS
A Comedy in Two Acts
_By Gladys Ruth Bridgham_
Eight women. Scene, an interior; costumes, modern. Plays an hour and
a quarter. Isabel Jewett has dropped her homely middle name, Lucinda,
and with it many sterling traits of character, and is not a very good
mother to the daughter of her husband over in France. But circumstances
bring "Lucinda" to life again with wonderful results. A pretty and
dramatic contrast that is very effective. Well recommended.
_Price, 25 cents_
CHARACTERS
ISABEL JEWETT, _aged 27_.
MIRIAM, _her daughter, aged 7_.
MRS. MCBIERNEY, _aged 50_.
TESSIE FLANDERS, _aged 18_.
MRS. DOUGLAS JEWETT, _aged 45_.
HELEN, _her daughter, aged 20_.
MRS. FOGG, _aged 35_.
FLORENCE LINDSEY, _aged 25_.
SYNOPSIS
ACT I.--Dining-room in Isabel Jewett's tenement, Roxbury, October, 1918.
ACT II.--The same--three months later.
WRONG NUMBERS
A Triologue Without a Moral
_By Essex Dane_
Three women. Scene, an interior; unimportant. Costumes, modern. Plays
twenty minutes. Royalty, $5.00. An intensely dramatic episode between
two shop-lifters in a department store, in which "diamond cuts diamond"
in a vividly exciting and absorbingly interesting battle of wits. A
great success in the author's hands in War Camp work, and recommended
in the strongest terms. A really powerful little play.
_Price, 25 cents_
FLEURETTE & CO.
A Duologue in One Act
_By Essex Dane_
Two women. Scene, an interior; costumes, modern. Plays twenty
minutes. Royalty, $5.00. Mrs. Paynter, a society lady who does not
pay her bills, by a mischance puts it into the power of a struggling
dressmaker, professionally known as "Fleurette & Co.," to teach her a
valuable lesson and, incidentally, to collect her bill. A strikingly
ingenious and entertaining little piece of strong dramatic interest,
strongly recommended.
_Price, 25 cents_
Plays for Junior High Schools
_Males_ _Females_ _Time_ _Price_
Sally Lunn 3 4 1½ hrs. 25c
Mr. Bob 3 4 1½ " 25c
The Man from Brandos 3 4 ½ " 25c
A Box of Monkeys 2 3 1¼ " 25c
A Rice Pudding 2 3 1¼ " 25c
Class Day 4 3 ¾ " 25c
Chums 3 2 ¾ " 25c
An Easy Mark 5 2 ½ " 25c
Pa's New Housekeeper 3 2 1 " 25c
Not On the Program 3 3 ¾ " 25c
The Cool Collegians 3 4 1½ " 25c
The Elopement of Ellen 4 3 2 " 35c
Tommy's Wife 3 5 1½ " 35c
Johnny's New Suit 2 5 ¾ " 25c
Thirty Minutes for Refreshments 4 3 ½ " 25c
West of Omaha 4 3 ¾ " 25c
The Flying Wedge 3 5 ¾ " 25c
My Brother's Keeper 5 3 1½ " 25c
The Private Tutor 5 3 2 " 35c
Me an' Otis 5 4 2 " 25c
Up to Freddie 3 6 1¼ " 25c
My Cousin Timmy 2 8 1 " 25c
Aunt Abigail and the Boys 9 2 1 " 25c
Caught Out 9 2 1½ " 25c
Constantine Pueblo Jones 10 4 2 " 35c
The Cricket On the Hearth 6 7 1½ " 25c
The Deacon's Second Wife 6 6 2 " 35c
Five Feet of Love 5 6 1½ " 25c
The Hurdy Gurdy Girl 9 9 2 " 35c
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Carroty Nell 15 1 " 25c
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The Clancey Kids 14 1 " 25c
The Happy Day 7 ½ " 25c
I Grant You Three Wishes 14 ½ " 25c
Just a Little Mistake 1 5 ¾ " 25c
The Land of Night 18 1¼ " 25c
Local and Long Distance 1 6 ½ " 25c
The Original Two Bits 7 ½ " 25c
An Outsider 7 ½ " 25c
Oysters 6 ½ " 25c
A Pan of Fudge 6 ½ " 25c
A Peck of Trouble 5 ½ " 25c
A Precious Pickle 7 ½ " 25c
The First National Boot 7 2 1 " 25c
His Father's Son 14 1¾ " 35c
The Turn In the Road 9 1½ " 25c
A Half Back's Interference 10 ¾ " 25c
The Revolving Wedge 5 3 1 " 25c
Mose 11 10 1½ " 25c
BAKER, Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass.
Plays and Novelties That Have Been "Winners"
_Males_ _Females_ _Time_ _Price__Royalty_
Camp Fidelity Girls 11 2½ hrs. 35c None
Anita's Trial 11 2 " 35c "
The Farmerette 7 2 " 35c "
Behind the Scenes 12 1½ " 35c "
The Camp Fire Girls 15 2 " 35c "
A Case for Sherlock Holmes 10 1½ " 35c "
The House in Laurel Lane 6 1½ " 25c "
Her First Assignment 10 1 " 25c "
I Grant You Three Wishes 14 ½ " 25c "
Joint Owners in Spain 4 ½ " 35c $5.00
Marrying Money 4 ½ " 25c None
The Original Two Bits 7 ½ " 25c "
The Over-Alls Club 10 ½ " 25c "
Leave it to Polly 11 1½ " 35c "
The Rev. Peter Brice, Bachelor 7 ½ " 25c "
Miss Fearless & Co. 10 2 " 35c "
A Modern Cinderella 16 1½ " 35c "
Theodore, Jr. 7 ½ " 25c "
Rebecca's Triumph 16 2 " 35c "
Aboard a Slow Train In
Mizzoury 8 14 2½ " 35c "
Twelve Old Maids 15 1 " 25c "
An Awkward Squad 8 ¼ " 25c "
The Blow-Up of Algernon Blow 8 ½ " 25c "
The Boy Scouts 20 2 " 35c "
A Close Shave 6 ½ " 25c "
The First National Boot 7 8 1 " 25c "
A Half-Back's Interference 10 ¾ " 25c "
His Father's Son 14 1¾ " 35c "
The Man With the Nose 8 ¾ " 25c "
On the Quiet 12 1½ " 35c "
The People's Money 11 1¾ " 25c "
A Regular Rah! Rah! Boy 14 1¾ " 35c "
A Regular Scream 11 1¾ " 35c "
Schmerecase in School 9 1 " 25c "
The Scoutmaster 10 2 " 35c "
The Tramps' Convention 17 1½ " 25c "
The Turn in the Road 9 1½ " 25c "
Wanted--a Pitcher 11 ½ " 25c "
What They Did for Jenkins 14 2 " 25c "
Aunt Jerusha's Quilting Party 4 12 1¼ " 25c "
The District School at
Blueberry Corners 12 17 1 " 25c "
The Emigrants' Party 24 10 1 " 25c "
Miss Prim's Kindergarten 10 11 1½ " 25c "
A Pageant of History Any number 2 " 35c "
The Revel of the Year " " ¾ " 25c "
Scenes in the Union Depot " " 1 " 25c "
Taking the Census In Bingville 14 8 1½ " 25c "
The Village Post-Office 22 20 2 " 35c "
O'Keefe's Circuit 12 8 1½ " 35c "
BAKER, Hamilton Place, Boston, Mass.
Transcriber's Note:
Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as
possible.
Italic text has been marked with _underscores_.
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