Chapter VII: Part II: SCENE.--Same as before. Enter FESTUS, C (2)

_Aunt M._ Diseases of the hair! Do tell! have they got something new for that? I’m glad on it, for my hair is all a comin’ out.

_Mrs. L._ We must try that. (_Bell rings, L._) Dear me, child! you must have that bell muffled; and I think we had better have the street strewn with tan, it’s so soothing.

_Bridget._ (_Outside, L._) Doctor, is it? Away wid yer. We want no doctors in petticoats here at all at all.

_Alice._ (_Runs to door, L._) Bridget, show the lady up here.

_Bridget._ (_Outside, L._) Will I? Oh, come in, Mrs. Doctor, come in.

_Alice._ This must be one of the ladies whom I expected.

(_Enter BRIDGET, showing in JENNY CARTER, who is disguised. Calico dress without crinoline; short-waisted, if possible; a small, red shawl on her shoulders, a large, old-fashioned bonnet, cap, and glasses; under her arm an umbrella._)

_Bridget._ Here’s the she-doctor, mam. (_Exit, L._)

_Jenny._ Ahem--ahem! Who’s sick? Who wants the doctor? I am Dr. Higgins, M.D., just graduated from the Female College. Would you like to see my diploma?

_Alice._ It’s not necessary.

_Jenny._ Where is the patient? Stop! don’t speak! The eye of science is quick to distinguish suffering. I see her!--that form tottering on the verge of the grave.

_Mrs. L._ Oh, dear! what did I tell you! (_Jenny passes MRS. L., rushes up to AUNT MIDGET, seizes her hand._)

_Jenny._ My poor woman, how are you?

_Aunt M._ (_Shakes JENNY’S hand._) Why, how do you do? My eyesight’s kinder failin’. It’s Jerusha Hoppin--ain’t it? What a handsome bunnet you’ve got!

_Jenny._ My dear woman, time is precious. Let me see your tongue.

_Aunt M._ Well, I flatter myself I do look young for one who’s seen so much triberlation.

_Alice._ Miss--Mrs. Doctor, you’ve made a mistake. This is the patient.

_Jenny._ Dear me, dear me! what a blunder! (_Comes back to table, L., takes off her bonnet, then places chair, L. of MRS. L., and sits._) What’s the trouble?

_Mrs. L._ Oh, dear!--doctor--I don’t know. I’m failing rapidly.

_Jenny._ Let me see your tongue (_MRS. L. shows it._) Ahem! Bad, bad!

_Mrs. L._ Oh, dear, doctor, do tell me the worst!

_Jenny._ Have you a cough?

_Mrs. L._ (_Forcing a very slight cough._) Dreadful!

_Aunt M._ Why, that must be a female woman doctor.

_Jenny._ Sleep well nights?

_Mrs. L._ Not a wink.

_Jenny._ Not a wink? Bad, bad! Any appetite?

_Mrs. L._ Not a bit.

_Jenny._ Not a bit? Bad, bad! Madam, yours is a very bad case.

_Mrs. L._ Oh, do, doctor, tell me the worst!

_Jenny._ Madam, you are suffering from a terrible disease,--a disease of which the profession know but little. Hum-buga; a disease caused by a depression of the eliminating vesticubia of the scareophagus. Had you fallen into the hands of the masculine butchers of the medical profession, your fate would have been terrible; but we of the new school are destined to lay bare new fountains of health. I propose to treat your case by an entirely new method; one that is destined to make a great revolution in medicine. The Lionian Method,--I will briefly explain. You, madam, are suffering from prostration,--a superabundance of weakness. In your case, madam, it is necessary to throw off this superabundance of weakness; but how to supply the vacuum? What is needed? You see at once: strength. But where shall we find strength?--in the mineral world? No. In the vegetable world? No. Where shall we turn? To the animal world, and there we find strength; and where greater strength than in the lion, the king of beasts? There is our remedy. Madam, I prescribe for you a lion diet. Lion steaks for breakfast, roast lion for dinner, cold lion for supper; and lion broth, lion soup, and lion fricassees promiscuously. Obey me, and you are saved; hesitate, and you are lost.

_Mrs. L._ Dear me! but where shall I get the lions?

_Jenny._ That’s none of my business. I prescribe the mode; you must find the means. You are rich; send and catch them. I would recommend your keeping a few live lions in your back garden, that you may have them fresh at all times.

_Mrs. L._ Lions in our back garden? Mercy! we should be eaten alive!

_Aunt M._ Lions? What! turn our back garden into a howling wilderness?

_Mrs. L._ Dear me, dear me! I can never find the means of cure.

_Jenny._ Then I cannot help you. So, if you will just hand me a check for five hundred dollars, I’ll go. (_Puts on bonnet._)

_Mrs. L._ (_Starting up._) A check for what?

_Jenny._ A check for five hundred dollars.

_Mrs. L._ But you haven’t cured me. You forget, “No cure, no pay.”

_Jenny._ Ah, but I’ve prescribed a method that will be sure to cure. If you don’t choose to try it, that’s not my fault.

_Mrs. L._ You just start yourself out of this house. Quick, or I’ll find a way to send you. Quick, I say.

_Jenny._ Very well, madam; very well. Remember the law. You’ll find you must pay. Good-morning.

(_Exit, L._)

_Mrs. L._ Who ever heard of such impudence?

_Aunt M._ Why, Angelina, what are you doing? You’ll kill yourself standing so long.

_Mrs. L._ (_Sinks back into chair._) Oh, dear! Oh, dear! My camphor,--quick! Fan me, child, fan me!

_Alice._ Well, mother, your first attempt with the new school is a failure. You’d better give it up, and send for Dr. Tincture.

_Mrs. L._ Child, don’t mention that horrid name again. (_Bell rings._) Who can that be? Another one of those humbugs.

_Alice._ We will not have any more come in here, if you say so.

_Mrs. L._ Yes, let them come. Every means must be tried.

_Enter BRIDGET, L._

_Bridget._ If you plase, mam, there’s another old woman. Says she’s a doctor.

_Alice._ Show her in, Bridget.

(_Exit BRIDGET, L._)

_Aunt M._ Seems to me, Angelina, you’re having lots of callers to-day.

(_Enter SUSAN DEAN, L., disguised. An old-fashioned “pumpkin” hood upon her head, an old, faded cloak upon her shoulders, a bundle of “roots and herbs” in one hand, a heavy cane in the other._)

_Susan._ How do you do, folks? Somebody sick here? I’m Dr. Hannah Stebbins, a regular graduated physician.

_Alice._ So we understand.

_Susan._ Yes, my medical edication begun with docterin’ with roots and yarbs. But, dear me! which is the sick woman?

_Alice._ My mother.

_Susan._ Oh, yes! the old lady in the specs. Well, she does look kinder feeble. (_Crosses to AUNT MIDGET._) Heow do you do, mam? Kinder croning, hay?

_Aunt M._ Hay?

_Susan._ They tell me you’re kinder complainin’.

_Aunt M._ Rainin’, is it? Why, do tell! What lots of rain we do have!

_Alice._ You’ve made a mistake. This is my mother.

_Susan._ Why, yeou don’t say so. There’s nothing the matter with her--is there? What’s the matter? Got the rheumatics?

_Mrs. L._ Oh, dear! I don’t know what’s the matter.

_Susan._ Kinder stericky--ain’t yer? Let’s see your tongue. It’s awful red! Let me feel your pulse. Dear me! Why, what can be the matter?

_Mrs. L._ I am very weak.

_Susan._ Got a crick in your back?

_Mrs. L._ I don’t know, but I think I have.

_Susan._ Headache?

_Mrs. L._ (_Putting her hand to her head._) Oh, terrible!

_Susan._ Purty bad way, yeou are. Let me see. There’s catnip,--that ain’t powerful enough; then there’s penny-_rial_ and wormwood, thoroughwort and hy-sup; them won’t do yeou any good; we must try the new grassalogical treatment.

_Mrs. L._ The grassalogical treatment! What is that?

_Aunt M._ Hay?

_Susan._ A new discovery of our larned sister, Dr. Sally Wiggins. The Scripters tell us, “All flesh is grass.” Therefore, when the flesh is weak, what more nat’ral than that we should fly to its great counterpart in nature, the grass?

_Aunt M._ (_Aside._) Talking about counterpanes,--I’d like to show her my new patch-work quilt.

_Susan._ On this theory Dr. Sally has founded her new treatment; and I think it will be the best thing yeou can try. Take for breakfast every day grass tea; grass greens biled for dinner, with a leetle pork or bacon; grass tea for supper--nothing else, and sleep on the grass nights. If natur’ won’t work a cure in your case, then I’m much mistaken.

_Mrs. L._ Sleep on the grass? Why, you’re crazy!

_Aunt M._ Why, I do believe that woman wants to turn our Angelina out to paster, jest like a cow.

_Mrs. L._ I confess I do not see the logic of your new treatment.

_Susan._ Yeou don’t? Well, it does look kinder strange, but it’s the new school; and if woman is ever to find her speare, her speare must be in some new school.

_Mrs. L._ I shall decline following any such nonsensical prescription.

_Susan._ Very well, mam. If you won’t, you wont; and that’s all there is about it. So, when you’re ready to settle, I’m ready to start.

_Mrs. L._ (_Starting up._) Ready to settle! What do you mean?

_Susan._ Five hundred dollars. That was your offer.

_Mrs. L._ No cure, no pay. What have you done?

_Susan._ Given you an original mode of treatment. If you do not choose to follow it, that’s not my fault.

_Mrs. L._ You just take your roots and herbs and your new treatment, and start out of this house, or you’ll get worse treatment.

_Susan._ Well, well, if this isn’t an ungrateful world! You’re a pretty sick woman, you are.

_Mrs. L._ Alice, call Bridget.

(_ALICE Exit, L._)

_Susan._ Yeou needn’t call any of your hired folks; I’m going; but if there is any law in the land, you shall hear from me. You’re a pretty sick woman, you are.

(_Exit, L._)

_Aunt M._ Why, Angelina, there you are standin’ ag’in! You’ll ruin your constitution jest as sure as can be.

_Mrs L._ (_Sinks back._) Oh, dear, what a trial!

_Enter BRIDGET, L._

_Bridget._ Did you ax for me, mam?

_Mrs L._ Bridget, don’t you let any more of these people into the house; they’ll be the death of me. Do you hear?

_Bridget._ Faith, I do, mam; and sorry a one will I let in at all at all.

(_Exit, L._)

_Aunt M._ Trial and triberlation, child! that’s the lot of us weak mortals.

_Enter ALICE, L., disguised as an old lady; shawl, large bonnet, spectacles, &c._

Massy sakes! who’s that?

_Alice._ Somebody’s sick here--hain’t there?

_Mrs. L._ Where did _you_ come from?

_Alice._ Hay?

_Mrs. L._ Where did you come from?

_Alice._ I’m a leetle hard of hearing. You’ll have to speak louder.

_Mrs. L._ Dear me! who sent you here?

_Alice._ Thank you; I don’t care if I do take a cheer. (_Sits, L._)

_Mrs. L._ Dear, dear! where can Alice be! Who sent you here?

_Alice._ Oh, yes, I hear now, when yer speak loud.

_Mrs. L._ Aunt Midget--

_Aunt M._ Well, child.

_Mrs. L._ Do try and talk to this woman; she’s deaf as a post, I’m sure.

_Aunt M._ Poor, is she? Wants cold victuals, I s’pose.

_Mrs. L._ No, no; she’s a doctor.

_Aunt M._ (_Pulling her chair close to MRS. L., and speaking across her to ALICE._) What’s the matter?

_Alice._ (_Moving her chair close to MRS. L., they both speak very loud._) Hay?

_Aunt M._ What’s--the--matter?

_Alice._ I’m deaf. (_Pronounce_ deef.)

_Aunt M._ Dear me! she want’s some beef. Well, if poor folks ain’t gitting proud! I guess you’ll have to content yourself with good cold bread.

_Alice._ Yes; it is caused by colds in the head.

_Mrs. L._ Dear me! set the blind to lead the blind. Aunt Midget, this old lady is very deaf.

_Aunt M._ You don’t say so. (_Very loud._) What do you want?

_Alice._ To treat the lady.

_Aunt M._ Hay?

_Mrs. L._ Gracious! what a confusion! My good woman, aunt Midget, this lady, is also very deaf.

_Alice._ I want to know. (_Very loud to AUNT M._) I want to treat this lady.

_Aunt M._ Want to treat her? (_Very loud._) What with?

_Alice._ (_Louder._) I’m a doctor.

_Aunt M._ Doctor, hey! Medical or dedical?

_Alice._ I’m a female physician.

_Aunt M._ Musician too! What do you play on?

_Mrs. L._ Stop, stop, stop! Do you want to craze me, you two? Bridget, Bridget! My good woman, I do not require your services.

_Enter BRIDGET, L._

Here, show this woman out of the house, quick!

_Alice._ I’m a regular--

_Bridget._ Oh, no more of yer blarney! Start yourself quick!

_Alice._ But, my dear lady, you advertised--

_Bridget._ (_Pushing her off, L._) Ah, away wid yer! Away wid yer!

_Mrs. L._ (_Sinks into her chair._) Oh, dear! was ever a poor sick woman so abused! My camphor, aunt Midget; my camphor! Where can Alice be?

_Enter ALICE, L._

_Alice._ Here I am, mother; I was called down stairs to see a lady, a healing medium. She is very desirous of seeing you.

_Mrs. L._ I will not see her. Those we have had have nearly killed me.

_Alice._ But, mother, this is an entirely different sort of person. You must see her, for she is coming up stairs now.

_Mrs. L._ Oh, dear, dear! Am I never to have any peace?

(_Enter LUCY, disguised. A bloomer costume (a bathing-dress will answer the purpose), an old-fashioned “front” of hair with side curls, a straw hat and parasol._)

_Lucy._ My dear child, which is your afflicted parent!

_Alice._ This is her.

_Lucy._ (_Seats herself, L. of MRS. L._) She does, indeed, seem afflicted! That care-worn face, those weak and feeble limbs, are sure signs of the presence of disease.

_Mrs. L._ Here is one who understands me at last.

_Lucy._ The power has been given me to heal the sick. (_Twitches her right arm._)

_Mrs. L._ Mercy! what’s the matter?

_Aunt M._ That girl’s going into a fit.

_Lucy._ It’s nothing; be as quiet as you can. (_Left arm twitches._)

_Aunt M._ Gracious goodness! I tell you, Angelina, that gal’s in a fit! (_LUCY’S head jerks, and she stares fixedly at AUNT M._) See her glare at me! I tell you she’s crazy. Angelina, if you don’t have that woman taken away, I’ll holler right eout!

_Lucy._ Sh--! I behold a vision! I see a woman before a wash-tub--a stout, rosy, healthy woman. She looks like you; and she rubs and sings, rubs and sings. (_With imitation of rubbing._)

_Mrs. L._ That’s me--that’s just like me!

_Lucy._ I see her again! She’s ironing now; and she irons and sings, irons and sings. (_Imitates._)

_Mrs. L._ Just like me--just like me!

_Lucy._ And now she sweeps (_imitates_), and now scrubs (_imitates_), singing all the while. Hark! what is it she sings?

_Mrs. L._ (_Singing._)

“Let us sing merrily, lightly, and cheerily,
Let us be gay,
Let us be gay;
Throw away sorrow; why should we borrow
Tears from to-morrow
To darken to-day?”

(_To be found in the “Excelsior Song-Book.”_)

_Lucy._ Yes, yes! That’s it! But now it changes. I see her again: she appears feeble and weak, and complains. Oh, how she complains! (_Imitates._)--“Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I’m so weak--I’m so weak! My camphor, aunt Midget! Fan me, my child!”

_Mrs. L._ Oh, dear! that’s me.

_Lucy._ (_Gesticulating, as though shaking somebody._) What is this that now urges me to seize this woman and shake her?

_Aunt M._ Angelina, that gal’s going to fight somebody. Don’t yer come a-near me.

_Lucy._ (_Slowly approaching MRS. L._) All this woman needs is exercise, and I must give her exercise. (_Imitating shaking._)

_Aunt M._ (_Jumping into chair._) Massy sakes! this is a raving lunatic.

_Mrs. L._ (_Starts up._) Come, come, young woman, this is quite enough.

_Alice._ You musn’t touch my mother.

_Aunt M._ That gal’s a Shaker; I know she is.

_Lucy._ (_Still approaching her._) To shake this woman--to shake this woman!

_Mrs. L._ This woman declines being shaken. I’ll do all the shaking myself. (_Seizes LUCY and shakes her._) What do you mean by such conduct? Who are you? (_Shakes her again, which shakes off her “front” and hat._) Lucy Aiken! Why, what does this mean?

_Lucy._ That I have turned physician, owing to the extraordinary inducements held out in an advertisement entitled “No Cure, no Pay.”

_Mrs. L._ What?

_Alice._ Yes, mother, I thought it a pity to waste money in advertising when we had three such good female physicians in the neighborhood.

_Enter JENNY CARTER and SUSAN DEAN, L., disguised as before._

Here are the other two.

_Mrs. L._ And pray, who are they? (_JENNY and SUSAN throw off their bonnets._)

_Jenny._ A disciple of the lionian school!

_Mrs. L._ Jenny Carter!

_Susan._ And a student of the grassalogical treatment.

_Mrs. L._ Susan Dean! Well, I am amazed.

_Aunt M._ (_Getting down from chair._) If that gal’s got through her tantrums, I’d like to get down!

_Mrs. L._ But there was another--a deaf old lady.

_Alice._ (_Imitating._) Hay?

_Mrs. L._ Why, Alice! have you been concerned in this too? Do you know it was very wrong to deceive your mother in this way?

_Alice._ Perhaps it was, mother; but I think you are better for the very singular treatment you have met with.

_Aunt M._ Law, child, what are you thinking of? You have been standing nearly five minutes.

_Mrs. L._ And I propose to stand five minutes more, for the purpose of thanking these young ladies for the very excellent manner in which they have treated my complaint. Ah, Lucy, that little touch of the old life you gave me has awakened my slumbering energies. I think I shall be able to go about and do a portion of that duty which is given the rich to perform--succor the needy and relieve the distressed. In such employment I need fear no return of my complaint. But how can I reward you?

_Alice._ Remember your promise; five hundred dollars--

_Lucy._ Which we gladly renounce, looking for reward in the approval of our friends here.

_Mrs. L._ But will they grant it? If, like me, in your practice they have found a cure for idle complainings, they certainly will; if not, you must all remember the conditions--NO CURE, NO PAY.

DISPOSITION OF CHARACTERS AT END:

L. Susan, Jenny, Lucy, Mrs. Languish, Alice, Aunt Midget. R.

HUMORS OF THE STRIKE. A FARCE.

FOR MALE CHARACTERS ONLY.

CHARACTERS.

GREENBAX, President of the Broadaxe Horse Railroad.
HARTSHORN, a Director.
TRUMPS, Superintendent.
KNOCKDOWN, Conductor.
WHIPSTOCK, Driver.
HARDHEAD (a little deaf).
FINNEGAN, a Fenian.
DAN, a New-York Butcher’s Boy.

COSTUMES, MODERN.

SCENE.--_President’s Room. Chair, L. Table, C._

_Enter KNOCKDOWN, L. WHIPSTOCK, R._

_Knock._ Whipstock, my boy, how goes the strike?

_Whip._ As well as could be expected. It’s evident we shall have to give in. Old Greenbax is still determined not to pay the advance asked for.

_Knock._ Won’t he? We’ll see about that. The strike has continued but eight days, and they have used up all means in their power to get conductors and drivers. I saw the seven o’clock car standing before the station, waiting for somebody to put it through. We have taken good care nobody shall be found; and I rather think this predicament will bring our worthy president to terms. There’s nothing like a little pluck, my boy.

_Whip._ Oh, yes; it’s all very well for you to talk, who have a chance at the pickings; but as for me, I’m pretty well played out; and if old Greenbax don’t come down soon, I shall, with a rush.

_Knock._ Nonsense! Never say die, my boy.

_Whip._ I don’t mean to; but if this thing continues much longer, Mrs. Whipstock will say it for me, emphasized with a broomstick. Halloo! here’s old Greenbax. Now for a breeze.

_Enter GREENBAX, R._

_Green._ (_As he enters._) Trumps! Trumps! I say, where can that fellow be? Trumps! (_Sees KNOCKDOWN and WHIPSTOCK._) Halloo! what are you doing here? Ready to go to work, hey!

_Knock._ Yes, sir, ready to go to work--at the advance prices.

_Green._ Hum! (_To WHIPSTOCK._) And are you ready to drive?

_Whip._ Certainly--at the advance prices.

_Green._ (_C._) Hum! Will you both serve us faithfully?

_Whip and Knock._ (_Advancing eagerly on each side of him, and speaking quickly._) Oh, yes, sir; yes, indeed!

_Green._ At the advance prices? I’ll see you farther, first, and then I won’t. No, sir; we pay you too much now. Clear out, both of you. I don’t want you around here. Quit! Exit! Vamose!

_Whip._ Did you ever! The old curmudgeon! _Exit R._

_Knock._ No, I never! The skinflint! _Exit, R._

_Green._ (_Seating himself at desk._) Here’s a pretty condition for the Broadaxe Horse Railroad to find itself placed in. A parcel of whipsnappers dictating to Horatio Greenbax, president of the corporation. Strike away, you scoundrels! You’ll find those who have the longest pockets can strike the hardest and stick the closest. (_Enter TRUMPS, R._) Well, Trumps, what’s up now?

_Trumps._ We are, I should say. Here’s the seven o’clock car waiting for both driver and conductor, and none to be had.

_Green._ Then get new ones.

_Trumps._ It’s very well to say get new ones; but where to get them, is the question. Our discharged men have induced everybody in the neighborhood to refuse.

_Green._ They have, have they? (_Voices heard outside shouting, “Halloo!” “Conductor!” “Time’s up!” “Halloo!” “Hurry up!” “Hurry up!”_)

_Trumps._ There, you hear that; the passengers are impatient.

_Green._ Well, well; drive it yourself.

_Trumps._ I can’t do that; somebody must look after the company’s property. (_Voices heard again impatiently shouting._)

_Enter HARTSHORN, L._

_Harts._ Mr. Pwesident, what is the meaning of this wow, and wiot, and wumpus? ’Pon my word, this is decidedly wulgaw; we shall be disgwaced with such an outwageous disturbance in fwont of our door--we shall, indeed.

_Green._ The fact is, Mr. Hartshorn, the company finds itself destitute of both drivers and conductors, in consequence of the strike.

_Harts._ Stwike! what a wevolution! You alawm me--you do, indeed.

_Green._ Well, don’t get frightened; you won’t be struck.

_Harts._ What’s to be done?

_Green._ Don’t know; unless you volunteer to drive that car down.

_Harts._ I volunteaw to dwive a paiw of vulgaw howses down Bwoadway, and one of these filthy caws too! I nevaw! The effluviaw fwom those cadavewous cweatures is howible! ’pon my word, howible! (_Voices again._) There’s the wow again!

_Enter HARDHEAD, R._

_Hard._ Where’s the president of this confounded road?

_Green._ I believe I have the honor to be its presiding officer.

_Hard._ Hey?

_Green._ I am he.

_Hard._ Hey? Speak louder; what are you mumbling about?

_Green._ (_Very loud._) I am the presiding officer.

_Hard._ Coffee, sir? I didn’t say any thing about coffee. I’ve had my breakfast, and, if it hadn’t been for that infernal car, should have been down town before this.

_Green._ This old gent is a little hard of hearing.

_Trumps._ It hasn’t affected his vocal organs, anyhow.

_Harts._ Yaas; he’s got an impediment in his eaw.

_Hard._ What do you all stand there growling for? Why don’t you answer me?

_Green._ I am the person you want.

_Hard._ Hey?

_Green._ (_Very loud._) I--am--the--President. (_Lower._) Confound your picture!

_Hard._ Oh, you are; then you ought to be ashamed of yourself. What’s that car waiting for?

_Green._ Somebody to drive.

_Hard._ Hey?

_Green._ (_Very loud and angrily._) Want somebody to drive.

_Hard._ Somebody’s wife? What business have you to keep a car waiting for somebody’s wife? I don’t ask you to wait for my wife--do I? Where’s your conductor?

_Green._ He’s on a strike.

_Hard._ Hey?

_Green._ (_Very loud and excitedly, and flourishing his arms._) I tell you he’s indulging in a strike.

_Hard._ (_Raising his cane._) Oh, that’s your little game, is it? You want to indulge in a strike! Well, indulge, then. Come on, you scoundrel; I’ll strike!

_Green._ No, no! (_Dodging behind HARTSHORN._) I don’t mean any thing of that kind. Keep off!

_Harts._ Good gwacious! what a tewible monstaw!

_Hard._ (_To HARTSHORN_,)--Oh, you’ll have it--will you, Whiskers? You want a crusher--do you?

_Harts._ No, no; I don’t want a cwusher! (_Dodges behind GREENBAX._) I won’t have a cwusher!

_Trumps._ (_Stepping before HARDHEAD, and speaking very loud._) Beg pardon, sir; but you misunderstand. Our drivers have struck for higher wages.

_Hard._ Oh, that’s it. Why didn’t he say so? (_To GREENBAX._) Well, what are you going to do about it? I must go down town at once.

_Green._ (_Loud._) If you will be patient a few minutes, we will try to accommodate you.

_Hard._ Look here, Mr. ---- (_to TRUMPS_), what is that individual’s name?

_Trumps._ Greenbax.

_Hard._ Look here, Mr. Beeswax; if you don’t hurry up that car, I’ll have you arrested as a swindler. (_Voices outside again._)

_Trumps._ Come, Mr. Greenbax, something must be done at once.

_Green._ What can I do?

_Trumps._ Hire the men at the new prices.

_Green._ Never! I said I wouldn’t, and I won’t, if no cars run to-day.

_Trumps._ Very well, sir; I have done all I can do. (_Exit._)

_Hard._ Are we going down to-day or not?

_Green._ I wish you was down where you belong, with all my heart. (_Louder._) Very warm to-day, sir.

_Hard._ Hey?

_Green._ It’s very warm to-day.

_Hard._ Pay? I’ll pay you if you don’t start that car soon. (_Goes up to table and sits._)

_Green._ O, pshaw! it’s no use talking to him. Well, Hartshorn, what’s to be done?

_Harts._ ’Pon my word, I don’t know. S’pose you dwive down yourself.

_Green._ Me? When I do, just inform me--will you? (_Noise again outside._) Halloo! Who’s this?

_Enter FINNEGAN, R._

_Fin._ Is the prisidint widin, I dunno?

_Green._ Well, I do. He is; and I am he.

_Fin._ Yer are--are yez? O, yer spalpeen! and it’s there ye are, thaif!

_Green._ Come, come; be a little more respectful.

_Fin._ Respictful, is it? By my sowl, and ain’t you the sarvant of the public? and ain’t I the public, bedad? What do yer mean by kaping me standing outside there squatting in a car, and waiting to be took to the arms of Biddy and the childers, afther I’ve fit, bled, and died for ould Ireland up in Can-a-dy, shure I’d like to know?

_Hart._ Good gwacious! what a fewocious foweigner!

_Fin._ And who the deuce are you, onyhow? You chatter like a monkey, and you look like a baboon! By my sowl, I believe you’re Barnum’s What Is It!

_Green._ Come, come; this won’t do.

_Fin._ Won’t it? and who’s to hinder, I’d like to know? Faith, do ye mind who I am? I’m a full-blooded Fenian; ready to sthrike for ould Ireland; and if that car don’t start soon, I’ll strike you, ye blackguard. (_Flourishing his shillalah._)

_Green._ Come, come; be quiet. (_Dodging behind HARTSHORN._) Pacify him, Hartshorn.

_Harts._ Pacify him? Good gwacious! here’s another stwiker! Don’t flouwish that club in that mannaw. Gweenbax will talk to you. (_Dodges behind GREENBAX._)

_Green._ Put up that stick. You shall have a conveyance in five minutes.

_Fin._ Conveyance, is it? I want no conveyance. I want a car, and that quick.

_Hard._ (_Starting up and shouting._) Is that car going or not?

_Fin._ Faith, here’s another belated gint. (_To GREENBAX._) Don’t yer hear the gintleman?

_Green._ Confound the gintleman, and the car too. Was ever a president in such a fix? Here’s another! Well, come on all at once.

(_Enter DAN, R._)

_Dan._ Say! where’s the president of this here road? Say!

_Hard._ Is that car going?

_Fin._ Fetch on your conveyance, ould chap.

_Green._ One at a time, if you please. (_To DAN._) I am the president. What do you want?

_Dan._ Well, say, old cove, what do yer mean by keepin’ folks waitin’ in this style, say?

_Fin._ Faith, ould gint, if yer don’t spake up, there’ll be “say” enough to dhrown ye.

_Green._ There’s a little delay on account of the strike.

_Fin._ Sthrike, is it? A sthrike, bedad! I’m on hand like a picked-up dinner. I sthruck a blow for ould Ireland in Can-a-dy, and then I sthruck for home; and, bedad, I’ll sthrike for any thing at all, at all.

_Dan._ I say, Pat, hush yer jaw; we’ll jest clean out this institution.

_Fin._ Faith, that we will. It’s a dirthy place onyhow.

_Hart._ Good gwacious! there’s going to be more stwiking!

_Dan._ Look here, Smellin’ Bottle! (_Seizes HARTSHORN by the collar, and brings him to the centre._)

_Hart._ Good gwacious! Welease my coat! You awe too polite--you awe indeed!

_Dan._ Am I? Jest look a here, Smellin’ Bottle! and you too, prez--look sharp! fur I’m a goin’ to talk to yer like a first-class sermon! I drives fur old Swizel, I does; and I kills fur Swizel too; and I’m goin down town in that car in five minutes! You understand?

_Hard._ (_Shouting._) Is that car going, or is that car not going?

_Dan._ Say, old gent, you jest subside.

_Hard._ Hey?

_Fin._ Faith, the ould gint’s as dafe as a haddock. (_Goes up to table and talks to HARDHEAD in dumb show._)

_Dan._ Now, prez, I want yer to understand I’m a goin’ down town; and I want a driver and a conductor.

_Green._ But I tell you there is a strike.

_Dan._ Yes; and there’ll be another very soon. Here, Smellin’ Bottle, I guess you can drive pretty well.

_Harts._ Good gwacious! Me? O, nevaw. I should be exhausted at once! I should indeed!

_Dan._ Then we’ll exhaust you. Come, heave ahead, and take the ribbons.

_Harts._ But, good gwacious! considaw; I should soil my dwess; I should indeed!

_Dan._ Well, we’ll fix that. Here, Pat.

_Fin._ (_Coming down._) Here yer are, my darlint.

_Dan._ Bring some old clo’s in here from that next room--the dirtiest yer can find.

_Harts._ Good gwacious!

_Fin._ Faith, that I will. (_Exit, R._)

_Green._ I protest against this proceeding. You are trespassing upon the premises of the Broadaxe Railroad.

_Dan._ Oh, simmer down, now; your turn will come soon.

(_Enter FINNEGAN, R., with a couple of dirty old overcoats and a couple of shocking bad hats._)

_Fin._ Here you are.

_Dan._ Now, Smellin’ Bottle, jump into this. (_Holding up the dirtiest overcoat._)

_Harts._ Good gwacious! what a howible coat! No, nevaw; twy the pwesident. (_Dodges behind GREENBAX._)

_Dan._ All right. (_Seizes GREENBAX._) Prez, jump in.

_Green._ No; I will submit to no such outrage. I am the president of this corporation.

_Fin._ Thin we’ll invist you wid this robe of office.

(_DAN and FINNEGAN seize GREENBAX, and thrust him into the coat._)

_Green._ Oh, you shall suffer for this!

_Fin._ We do, my darlint; now for your crown. (_Claps hat on his head._) Ivery inch a king!

_Dan._ Now, then, for Smellin’ Bottle. (_Seizes HARTSHORN._)

_Harts._ Good gwacious! I’m innocent; I am indeed! I’m only a poor diwector.

_Fin._ Thin come here directly. (_Seizes him, puts on coat and hat, he all the time protesting._)

_Green._ Oh, if there is any law, you shall suffer for this!

_Hard._ Is that car going?

_Dan._ Directly. We’ve procured a driver and conductor, and now we’re off. Come, Pat, lead off with the prez--I mean driver.

_Fin._ Faith, that I will.

_Dan._ And I’ll take Smellin’ Bottle. (_They take GREENBAX and HARTSHORN by the arm, who struggle and protest._)

_Green._ (_To HARDHEAD, who comes down._) This is an outrage. I call upon you to protect me.

_Hard._ Hey?

_Harts._ Yes, yes; pwotect me, pwotect me!

_Hard._ Hey?

_Fin._ Bedad! that ould gint is like a horse; he’s full of hay!

_Dan._ Now we’ll be down town in a jiffy. Come on.

_Enter TRUMPS, R._

_Trumps._ What’s the meaning of this?

_Dan._ We’ve procured a conductor and a driver for the seven o’clock car.

_Trumps._ We don’t want them.

_Dan._ Yes; but we do.

_Trumps._ No; for the conductor and driver have come to terms; and if you’ll jump aboard, we’ll be off in a jiffy.

_Green._ Strike over?

_Trumps._ Entirely.

_Harts._ Good gwacious! that’s lucky!

_Dan._ You can bless your lucky stars, prez.

_Green._ I do; and if ever there’s another strike on this road, I’ll resign at once.

_Fin._ (_To HARDHEAD._) Strike’s over!

_Hard._ Hey?

_Fin._ (_Loud._) The strike’s over.

_Hard._ Anybody knocked down?

_Dan._ The conductors will attend to that part of the business.

_Trumps._ Come, gentlemen, jump on; can’t wait any longer.

_Green._ Jump on, gentlemen; the strike has concluded to our satisfaction; let us hope it has to the satisfaction of all who have taken this little trip with us on the Broadaxe Horse Railroad.

DISPOSITION OF CHARACTERS.

R. Trumps, Finnegan, Greenbax, Hartshorn, Dan, Hardhead, L.

BREAD ON THE WATERS.

A DRAMA IN TWO ACTS.

CHARACTERS.

DR. HARLEM, Principal of Greenlake Seminary.
HARRY HARLEM, his son.
FRED HASTINGS, } Pupils.
SOB WINDERS, }
JONATHAN WILD BUTTS, the Town Constable.
LUCY HARLEM, the Doctor’s Daughter.
MRS. LORING, Housekeeper.
DILLY (picked from the streets).

COSTUMES.

DR. HARLEM. Act 1, Black suit, white cravat, long white hair. Act 2, Dressing-gown, &c.

HARRY. Act 1, Lad of eighteen. Roundabout jacket, rolling collar, &c. Act 2 (disguised), Gray wig and beard, sailor’s blue shirt, white trousers.

FRED. Act 1, Lad of eighteen. Roundabout jacket, rolling collar, &c. Act 2, Stylish modern costume.

BOB. Act 1 (Very fat), Costume same as Harry and Fred. Act 2 (genteel figure), Very fashionable.

BUTTS. Act 1, Blue coat, brass buttons, short pants, iron-gray wig, shabby hat. Act 2, same as in Act 1.

MRS. LORING. Act 1, Old lady’s suit. Act 2, Same as in Act 1, with the addition of cap and spectacles.

DILLY (aged 13). Act 1, Short dress, curls, &c. Act 2, Young lady’s modern dress.

LUCY (aged 16). Act 1, Dress neat and pretty. Act 2, Young lady’s modern dress.