Chapter III: Preface: A dress of white muslin or paper cambric. A small muslin apron

entirely covered, except the hem, with printed words. A white ribbon, with "Preface" in black capitals, extending from the right shoulder diagonally to the waist, where it ends under a bow of red ribbon. On the right shoulder a red bow. The flowing hair is crowned by a dainty muslin cap trimmed with a knot of red ribbon.

INDEX.--A white suit. Belt bearing his name in black letters.

VIOLET.--A dress of fluffy material--pale lavender, with violets of deeper shade falling in a fringe around a low neck.

DAFFODIL.--Same in yellow.

LILY-OF-THE-VALLEY.--A white tulle with delicate green over-dress. Puffed white sleeves with ruffles of green. A bunch of lilies-of-the-valley on one shoulder.

LOCKSMITH.--Ragged trousers, shirt, and large brown holland apron. Bunches of keys hanging from his waist.

CUPID.--Flesh-colored tights and pink trunks, quiver, and arrows.

FIRST AND SECOND PITCHERS.--Baseball rig. Asses' ears of gray canton flannel, wired to keep them in shape.

COLORED LAUNDRESS.--Dress of gaudy chintz, large check apron, and bandanna head handkerchief.

Other costumes to suit the fancy of wearers.

If the play is to take place in a parlor, be sure there is a doorway at one end connecting it with another room. A stage one foot from the floor is built right across the door, which should be right or left of the centre background. The framework for a book through which each individual or group must pass to front of stage is thus made--two uprights 5 ft. 6 in. high are placed 3 ft 4 in. apart, and fastened to the stage floor; 1 ft. 6 in. behind these uprights, and exactly opposite them, fix two others of the same height. Nail three cross-pieces at the top (leaving the side nearest the door open) to hold the frame together. This skeleton book must stand at such an angle that while one inner corner almost touches the stage entrance door, the other inner corner will be 2 ft. beyond the door. Tack a strip of asbestos down the side that represents the closed leaves of a book. A similar strip, only somewhat wider, is put on for the curved back. The side presented to the spectators is the cover of your book. It is to close and unclose like a door, so that the characters may appear to step out when the volume is opened. This cover may be of asbestos, but it should hang on hinges that move very freely. Draw across the book cover, so that each word will fill a line

"FAMILIAR QUOTATIONS."

Paint the letters in gold and some bright color. Attach a bit of twine inside the cover, midway, on the hinge side, to enable the person who engineers the book to close it without being seen.

A large table with lamp and books, and one or two chairs, will suffice for stage furniture.

The book slowly opens, revealing Preface. She steps forward, closely followed by Index, who remains right of and a little behind her.

_Preface_.

The Preface always is allowed
First to address the expectant crowd;
Whether my task's a pleasant one
I shall know better--when 'tis done.

(_She points to the book_, Index _copying all her movements_.)

From out these covers, blithely tripping,
Familiar friends will soon be slipping;
They're tired of hiding in a book,
Where you must go for them to look.

To-night they mean to play before you
Some trifles that we hope won't bore you;
Indeed, we ask for each quotation
Only its meed of approbation.

[_She starts to return to the book, but is intercepted by_ Index,
_who intimates that he has something to say_. Preface _takes his
hand, and leads him to the footlights_.]

_Index_ (_first looking admiringly at_ Preface).

As she is first, so last am I,
The Index that can tell you why
And when and wherefore this was writ,
And who the author is of it;
When a quotation doth appear
I'll do my best to make it clear.

[_He bows to the audience, and escorts_ Preface _to the book, opens
the cover, and watches it close upon her, kisses his hand after
her, and retires dejectedly behind the volume. The piano orchestra
strikes up "The Flowers that Bloom in the Spring._"]

_Index_ (_popping out his head from back of book)_. Gilbert and Sullivan.

[Violet, Daffodil, _and_ Lily-of-the-Valley _emerge, trip to the
front, group themselves harmoniously, and dance, ending with a
sweeping courtesy. Exeunt._]

_The Audience_. Of course that was "The Flowers that bloom in the Spring."

_Index_. Second quotation. Author, Dryden.

[_A lady opens the book and walks with dignity across the stage.
Draws a chair to front, seats herself, and slowly waves her fan.
Raises a lorgnette to her eyes, rises, and turns gracefully to the
left. At this moment a tin mouse on wheels is sent whizzing toward
her from behind the curtain. She jumps on the chair, gathering her
skirts about her, and screaming. A foppish youth comes from the
book in affected excitement, and attacks the mouse with his
umbrella. While the conflict goes on, the lady covers her face with
her hands, now and then stealing a glance at her champion. The
mouse is finally slain. The gentleman presents it, kneeling. She
turns away at first, but presently dismounts and accepts the hero's
arm. They go off together, he waving the mouse at the audience. The
audience, after several mistakes, guesses, "None but the brave
deserve the fair."_]

_Index_ (_who has meanwhile frequently bobbed out from behind the book, now cries gleefully_). Third quotation. A proverb! A proverb!

[_The_ First _and_ Second Pitchers _enter, each holding a ball.
They strike all sorts of baseball attitudes as they advance to
footlights, then station themselves on opposite sides of stage.
They throw the balls until some one guesses, "Little pitchers have
big ears." Exeunt._]

CURTAIN.

_The stage is darkened for next scene. A tall boy is draped in
white. A small boy, also in flowing white, with crown of laurel
such as we see in portraits of Cæsar. The hair and face whitened.
The larger boy seats himself in chair (also draped in white) with
rollers near cover of book. Small boy is placed astride his
shoulders._

_Index_. Fourth quotation. An exclamation. Author unknown.

[_Book opens very slowly. Some one concealed behind the chair
pushes it a little beyond the book. Ghost rises deliberately,
stands a moment, turns and stalks majestically to draw curtain,
behind which he disappears. If the audience fails to see the point
early_, Index _cries_, "Can't you guess? Great Cæsar's ghost!"]

CURTAIN.

_Index_. Another proverb.

[_The_ Locksmith, _carrying a three-legged stool, hobbles out,
seats himself on stool, draws a file from his bag, and sets to work
on a great key_. Cupid _thrusts his curly head from the book,
laughing inaudibly. He tiptoes behind the_ Locksmith, _and tickles
his neck with a feather arrow-head_. Locksmith _brushes at the
supposed fly. The tickling continuing_, Locksmith _gets up and
looks right and left_, Cupid _always dodging him. They gradually
reach the book thus. As the cover is about to close_, Cupid _seizes
the bunch of keys, laughing aloud_. Locksmith _turns to beat him,
but the agile boy springs past him into the book, leaving him
outside_.

_The last quotation needs no announcement. It is set to a genuine
negro melody, and should be sung with a swing._

_A_ Colored Dude _enters with banjo slung across his shoulder by a
ribbon_. (_Sings._)]

Oh let me interjuce myse'f,
A gent'man f'om de Souf,
What nevah wuks while other folks
Puts wittles in his mouf.

Den fetch de 'possum barbacue,
Roas' ches'nuts, an' pop-cawn;
De darkies' hour fer jamboree
Is jes' befo' de dawn.

[_As he concludes the verse the_ Colored Laundress _appears and
pushes him aside_. (_She sings._)]

You see a cullud lady here
Dat scrub an' wash all day,
An' ev'ry evenin' fer a res'
She dance de time away.

(_Duet and dance._)

So knock it off wid heel an' toe,
De night is almos' gone,
An' don't fergit de darkies' hour
Is jes' befo' de dawn.

_They are interrupted by the arrival of a pompous_ Colored
Policeman.

_The Policeman_.

I'm sent ter 'rest dis company
Fer 'sterbin' of de peace.

_Dude_ and _Laundress_.

Now change yo' min', Mist' P'liceman, do,
An' jine us in our feas'.

_Chorus_ (_dancing_).

Come cut de pigeon-wing wid us,
An' shore ez you is bawn
You'll fin' de liv'les' darkies' hour
Is jes befo' de dawn.

PATTY'S STATION.

BY KATHARINE B. FOOT.

It was Patty Miller's seventeenth birthday and a sweet May morning in the early fifties. She sat on the porch step beside her father, who was the doctor of the whole country-side far and near, and they looked out over the superb view of the Connecticut Valley below them. She was an only child, and her father's dear companion and friend, and as dear and familiar friends are apt to do, they sat without speaking for some time, until her father laid an affectionate hand on hers and said, "Are you happy to be home, daughter, on your birthday?"

"Yes, or any other day," and she laid her other hand over his. "And I think I'm more glad than ever since we visited in Virginia. New England for me always."

After another little silence her father said, "Uncle Tom and Fanny seem to enjoy it here."

"Oh yes, or they wouldn't stay. Uncle Tom never stays anywhere unless he's comfortable. But I can't help wondering how he gets on without servants, for Abe is always at his elbow on the plantation, and there's no one at all to wait on him here. I wonder," continued Patty, laughing a little, "what Uncle Tom and Fanny would think if they knew that Wellfield was a station in the underground railroad, and you the station-master, and the particular station our house, and the hiding-place under the closet floor in the very room that he sleeps in?"

Uncle Tom was a Southerner, and was visiting with his daughter his Northern relatives, with whom he was on the best of terms except on the subject of slave-holding.

"I don't know I'm sure," her father said, seriously, "but once, years ago, I told him that I'd help along any of his slaves to freedom if they asked me, and he said that if any of them wanted to run away I was quite welcome to do it. But Tom is a good master, as his father was before him, and if his servants are going to be slaves at all they're probably as well off with him, and perhaps better off than they would be anywhere else."

"It's lucky," said Patty, and she laughed heartily, "that you have always been able to pass your fugitives right on, for I believe that if any one was shut up in that place very long they'd suffocate."

"Well," said her father, slowly and thoughtfully, "it would be cramping, but it's ventilated directly to the air; and 'twas awfully lucky that that trellis with the honeysuckle on it ran up on that side of the house, so that I could make that little window there. That is your station, Patty, and you were a clever girl to find it out. I think that your mother and I were pretty stupid not to see that the ceiling of the closet was so much lower than it was in the room until you told us, for we'd racked our brains for years to think of a secure hiding-place."

"But it wouldn't have been any good if there hadn't been a closet above," said Patty; "and if you hadn't been such a good carpenter that you could cut the little window and fix the trap-door that--well, that no eyes could see."

"And especially with a small trunk over it, and no servants to spy it out," interrupted her father. "Yes," and he smiled, "I think that 'Patty's station' will be a safe one if it ever has to be used. But here comes Uncle Tom now," as a handsome man came toward them from the front door.

"All ready for your birthday jaunt, Patty? Where is Fanny?"

"Coming, papa," and a girl a little younger than Patty ran down stairs just as Mrs. Miller came out of the parlor door.

"I'm sorry you won't go with us, Anna," said Mr. Mason to her.

"I'm sorry too," said Mrs. Miller, "but as I'm my own cook I must stay at home, or you'd starve when you got back."

"I tell you what, Anna, you put yourself up at auction, and I'll bid you in at any price, and then I'll be sure of good cooking for the rest of my life."

Mrs. Miller laughed and shook her head wisely. "Well, you see, Tom, I might die. If I couldn't run away I might take that gleam of liberty."

"Oh, what a fanatic you are!" he laughed.

"Oh, there's Mr. Holman coming in!" said Patty. "I'll run to meet him, for he don't like our steep path."

"Is that your old clergyman?" said Mr. Mason.

"Our minister," said Mrs. Miller. "He likes the old name, and he is a minister, truly. He has probably come for John to go to see somebody who is sick and poor."

"That's a pretty fair partnership, I reckon," said Mr. Mason. "But John is always caring for the lame and the lazy."

The doctor went into his office for his saddle-bags, for when he did not ride he carried them in his chaise.

"Father, will you come down here?" Patty called.

Mr. Holman looked very serious as Dr. Miller approached him, and he looked about him cautiously before he whispered: "There's a fugitive slave at Lem Carter's, and Dimmock and two men are after him. The man seems to be an intelligent fellow, and he says that he thinks that they are not looking for him in particular just now, but are after another man who was with him, and who left him three days ago, for the other fellow knew that he was being chased, and they thought it more prudent to separate. But as this man at Lem's is a fugitive, if they find him they'll take him even if he isn't the man they're after. Lem says that he knows his house is watched, so he doesn't dare to keep him overnight, nor to have you drive down and get him. Now Lem and I thought out this plan: If you can get your Silas out of the way, I will let Lem know, and he will bring the man to your stable after dark, and you can drive him to Northampton to Mr. Brewer's, for there's no other place here where it's safe to keep him."

"I think I can get Silas out of the way," said the doctor, after thinking a moment. "But suppose they track him to my stable, what shall I do? For you know my brother-in-law, Mr. Mason, is here, and that closet where I made the hiding-place is in his room."

"Well," said Mr. Holman, "sometimes the most absolutely daring thing is the safest thing to do, and if you were hard pressed and had to put him there, no one could possibly dream of your taking such a risk. But I don't think it's at all likely that he'll be followed up so closely as that. I think you'll have time enough to get him out of the way, for, now that I think of it, Mr. Mason's being here is really a protection to you."

So, after a little more talk between them, the matter was settled. Mr. Holman explained matters to Mrs. Miller, and she thought out a plan for the doctor, so that Silas could be sent on an errand in the late afternoon which would take him two or three miles into the country, and so keep him out of the way for the entire evening.

Meanwhile Patty, although this episode was one which she had long desired, carried a really heavy and anxious heart, and felt that she must make a constant exertion to appear like her usual self. She was very anxious about the safety of the poor fugitive, because it seemed such a complication to have her uncle and Fanny with them, and, of course, she knew how hot and close the pursuit was after any fugitive, and especially so when there was a large reward in prospect. She found herself wondering at herself as she laughed and talked all day long, and as she afterwards told all their adventures to her mother and father at the tea-table. After tea was over, and while Patty was helping her mother to clear the table, Mrs. Miller had a few minutes to tell Patty of their plans, and that her part of it was to keep her uncle and Fanny in the parlor, and amused and interested, if possible, so that her uncle would not take it into his head to wander down to the stable, as he often did, or Fanny to wander about the house, where she might possibly look out of a window and see something suspicious going on outside. So Patty went at once into the parlor, and had the happy thought of hunting up an old book of dim old engravings that had been given to her father, and which she knew would interest her uncle Tom, for he was something of a bookworm. It was a happy thought, indeed, for Mr. Mason was soon so deep in his interest in the book, and so interested in telling the girls what he knew about the engravings, which were very old and, as he said, extremely valuable, that Patty felt he was quite safely anchored until the danger should be over. As soon as the late May twilight became darkness, the doctor, saying something about having a call, lit his lantern and went down to the stable. He waited only a few moments before the door opened cautiously, and Lem Carter, a slight, alert-looking man, stepped in, followed by a negro. In one flash the man and the doctor recognized each other, for, strange to say, it was Mr. Mason's Abe--the very man that he and Patty had been talking about that morning.

Lem whispered: "Put your light out, quick, for we are followed. _Hello! Do you know him?_" for the man was on his knees, saying, in a thrilling whisper:

"Oh, Marse Doctah! Don't gib me up! don't gib me up! I didn't know it was Marse Tom's--Marse Doctah--I wuz comin' to."

"Hush, Abe!" said the doctor, "I'll not give you up; but your master is here, and I must get you safely away as soon as I can. It's my brother's man," said Dr. Miller.

"That's a _great_ fix," said Lem; "but I'll get out of here and try to throw them off the track. Don't you leave him here two shakes; the barn'll be the first place they'll aim for," and even as he spoke he slipped away.

"Abe," said the doctor, "you must be perfectly quiet and do exactly what I tell you, and I will have you safe soon. Come with me." And he took him by the arm, and led him out of the side door of the barn and up the path to the kitchen door. He left him for one moment in the little entry outside of it, and went in and told his wife who it was that had come to them. She was shocked and rather frightened, but very quiet, and made no exclamation; and then they put Abe in the big store-room, just out of the kitchen, and she got him some food while she was saying:

"Go and send Patty to me. Tell her anything you can think of. Oh, I know--tell her to come out and show me where the milk is for the cottage cheese."

When the doctor went away Abe told her in a few frightened words that as soon as Mr. Mason left home, two weeks before, the overseer had given him a pass to go to the next county for some sheep, and as he had to drive them back, which would take some days, he knew that he wouldn't be missed for that time, and so could never have a better opportunity for the escape that he had planned for years; but had kept it such a secret that not even the doctor--whose abolition principles were well known to Abe--had had the least suspicion of such a thing. So he had run away, and, strangely enough, been passed along, until he was under the very roof with his master.

"Patty, be careful not to speak loud," Mrs. Miller said a moment later, when her daughter appeared. "I didn't want to see you about the cheeses; but we've got to hide a man to-night until father can get him away. He's in the store-room now; and, Patty," and her mother laid her hand on her shoulder, "it's a strange thing, and I can hardly believe it myself, but it's somebody we know--it's Uncle Tom's Abe."

It was lucky that a chair was behind Patty, for she sat down suddenly and grew very white, but all she said was, "Oh, mother, what _shall_ we do?"

"Father will drive him to Northampton just as quick as he can get him away. But Mr. Carter thinks that Dimmock is following him up very closely, and if he comes here Abe has got to be put in the hiding-place."

A moment later Patty and her mother returned to the room, apparently quite calm and composed, and the doctor was just saying, "Well, I have a long drive before me, and must be off," in such a matter-of-fact way that Patty felt almost hysterical.

Just at that moment some one pounded on the knocker in a very imperative way, and Fanny said, "Goodness, somebody must be dying!" The doctor went to the front door and opened it. Even he, for a second, was startled, as he saw three men standing there.

"Good-evening," said the doctor. "Anybody sick? Hello, Dimmock, I didn't see you. What's the matter?"

Mr. Dimmock seemed somewhat embarrassed, and said: "No, we ain't none of us sick; but fact is, doctor, we're after a runaway nigger, and my friends here--Mr. Sterling and Mr. Pratt--say they traced him right up here about ten minutes ago, and they just brought me along to make the warrant right, as I'm United States Commissioner, you know. Have you got the fellow, and will you give him up?"

"Upon my word!" said the doctor, putting his hands behind his back and holding a hat in one of them. "Do you suppose that I've got him here, with _you_ pretty nearly next door? And don't you know well enough that if I had I wouldn't tell you?"

"Pretty high and mighty, doctor," said the man they called Dimmock. "In the name of the United States, I demand to search this house. We've been through your barn a'ready."

"It's a--an outrage," said the doctor; "so search, if you please; you won't find anybody." And he stepped aside, and said, "Walk in, gentlemen. I have the highest respect for your _authority_--if not for your business."

As the men walked into the room, Patty said, "Father, is Mr. Dimmock going up into my room?"

"I suppose so," said her father; "no place is sacred when Mr. Dimmock goes hunting."

"Then I must go up a moment first," said Patty; "it isn't in order." And she left the room.

Mrs. Miller sat still and looked at the men, and Mr. Mason rose to his feet, saying,

"What's all this?"

The doctor knew that if he could keep the men back a very few moments Patty would hide Abe, for he was sure that his wife had made some plan with her. So he turned to Mr. Mason and said, "It's very likely, Tom, that I have a fugitive slave here, isn't it?"

But before Mr. Mason could answer, Dimmock said, "We knew you were here, Mr. Mason, and we're sorry to disturb you, but there are _some_ people in Wellfield that keep the laws, and that nigger's been traced here, and we're bound to have him."

Mr. Mason laughed, but showed that he was very indignant, and he told Mr. Dimmock shortly that it was scarcely likely that Dr. Miller would conceal a fugitive slave under the same roof with a slave-owner, especially when that owner was his guest. But of the nice laws of hospitality Mr. Dimmock was quite unconscious, and the doctor didn't care what anybody said if they could only gain a little time. Mr. Dimmock said afterwards that the doctor was in a white rage, but he was quite mistaken; it wasn't rage at all, but a great variety of conflicting emotions.

As soon as Patty left the room she flew to the store-room, and said, in a whisper, "Abe, follow me quick. They're after you. Be very still."

He was terribly frightened, but long habit made him absolutely obedient, and he crept up the back stairs like a cat. They crept through the front hall, the voices plainly heard below, and Patty showed him how to lift the trap in the closet floor.

"This is your master's room," she whispered. "Don't even breathe loud, or you'll be heard. I'll let you out when it's safe. I don't believe you'll have to stay all night." Then she fitted the trap down carefully, lifted the light trunk over it, picked up her uncle's shoes and put them down softly as if they had been thrown in, dropped a soiled collar and handkerchief from the bureau, and then closed the door softly. Long in the telling, it had not taken three minutes. Then she ran down stairs.

"Show Mr. Dimmock and his friends about," said her father; "take them everywhere, Patty."

Patty took a lamp, and Mr. Dimmock said, "Give me another. I always carry my own light. People have a way of throwing shadows in the wrong places. The garret first." And when they got there he held his lamp high, casting its light into every dark corner. "What's that?" he said, pointing to a dark pile.

"Carpet rags," said Patty.

"Hiding a nigger, likely. You'd better look there, Sterling."

The man tossed the heap over until he came to the floor.

Into every room they went, and opened every closet door, and Patty felt herself trembling as they came to the door of the closet in her uncle's room, but grew quiet as she heard herself saying, calmly,

"Now you can hardly suppose that he's in Uncle Tom's room?"

"Well, not 'less he's a _mighty_ cool one," said Mr. Dimmock.

At last they went, and the question was how to get Abe out of the closet and then out of the house. There was not a moment when it could be done, for Mr. Mason said he was tired to death, and would go to bed at once. And go he did, and there was nothing for the doctor to do but to suddenly remember that he had had a call, and to pretend to start for it. And after Fanny went upstairs Mrs. Miller and Patty absolutely groaned when they heard Mr. Mason shut his door and bolt it for the night. In the morning it did seem as if Mr. Mason and Fanny would never go down stairs. But at last Mr. Mason appeared below with his cheerful "Good-morning," and Fanny followed after a little. Then Patty discovered, as they sat down to the breakfast table, that she had left her handkerchief upstairs, and she ran up to her uncle's room to release Abe. As she lifted the trap-door he crawled out, stiff and cramped. She hurried him up to the garret, for they were obliged to hide him until night. Poor Abe was so frightened that he could only say,

"Oh, Miss Patty, s'pose Marse Tom come up heah and catch me!"

"Oh, he won't," said Patty; "Uncle Tom never comes up garret." But a bright thought came to her. "If you hear anybody coming, get under that pile of rags and pull them over you." And she pushed them together, for the men had left them strewed all over the floor, and ran down to breakfast.

A little later she smuggled some food and coffee to Abe, and cautioned him over and over not to step about at all, lest his footsteps should be heard below. But at last the long day drew to an end, and the night came. Silas had again been spirited out of the way; her father had the light wagon all ready, and they were ready to get Abe out of the garret and down to the barn.

Patty got her water-colors out to show to Mr. Mason and Fanny just at the moment that her mother slipped away to get Abe down and out of the house into the garden. He had to pass through the front hall to get from the garret stairs to the back stairs, and just at the critical moment, when she knew that Abe must be passing through the front hall, her uncle Tom said, "Oh, I've left my glasses upstairs!" and started to go for them.

"Let me," said Patty, for the whole hall was visible from four steps up on the front stairs.

"No, I'll go myself," said her uncle Tom, and he moved toward the foot of the stairs, and for one second Patty felt at her wits' end. Then she knocked over a vase of flowers on the table. The water ran all over the pictures. Both girls exclaimed; Mr. Mason turned to help mop it up with his handkerchief also, and the danger was over.

At breakfast-time the next day Mr. Mason said, "You came in late, or rather, early. Jack. Did you have a hard night of it?"

"Tiresome," said the doctor.

It was true, for he had driven Abe about sixteen miles up the river.

Abe was sent from Northampton to Canada by rail, and it was not until he was safe there that Mr. Mason, who was then in Boston, learned from his overseer of his disappearance; for just as Abe had hoped and supposed, he had not been missed for several days. Then Mr. Mason, very much cut up by his running away, went directly back to Virginia with his daughter.

That was the only time Patty's station ever held a waiting passenger.

FOR KING OR COUNTRY.

A Story of the Revolution.

BY JAMES BARNES.