THE

GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.
A Comedy-In Two Acts.

BY

J.

S.

J O N E S , ESQ.

Awhor of " Surgeon of Paris," " Zafari," " Carpenter of Rouen," " Moll Pitch***/
" Stephen Burroughs," " People's Lawyer," " Bride of Jonah," " Siege
of Boston," "Old Job and Jacob Gray," " Liberty Tree,"
" Last Days of Pompei," " Silver Spoon,"
etc. etc.

With Original Casts, Costumes, and all the Stage Business, as marktd
>y Mr. J. B. Wright, Stage Manager of the Holiday
Street
Theatre,
Baltimore.

NEW
S A M

UEL

YORK:

F R E N C H ,
122

N A S S A U

P

U

B

-STREET.

L

I

S

H

E

R

OAST

OF

CHARACTERS.

SANDFIBLD,
EDWARD MERSTON,
JOE SHAKSPEARE,
JEDEDIAH HOMEBRED, . . .
WILKINS,
TERRENCE M C N A B ,

Park
Theatre,
N. Y.
Mr. T . Blakely,
" J. Clarke,
« W. Wheatley,
" J. Fisher.
« G. I I . Hill,
" P. Richings,
" Harney,

Tremont,
Boston,
1837.
Mr. W. F. Johnson,
." John Gilbert,
" E. L. Davenport,
« G. H. Andrews,
« G. H. Hill,
" C. E. Muzzy,
" D. Whiting,

Miss SQUEAMISH,
ELLEN TOMKINS,
LUCY,

Mrs. Wheatley,
Mrs. Harrison,
Mrs. Durie,

Mrs. J. G. Gilbert,
Miss McBride,
Miss A. Fisher,

TOMKINS,

TOMKINS,
HANDFIELD,
EDWARD MERSTON,
.TOE SHAKSPEARE,
JEDEDIAH HOMEBRED, . . .
WILKINS,
TERRENCE M C N A B ,

Howard, Boston,
1855.
Mr. W. H. Curtis,
W. J. Lemoyne,
» W. R. Floyd,
" C. F. Jones,
" G. E. Locke,
" A. F. Blake,
" J. Rose,

Buffalo, N. Y.,
1858.
Mr. W. Petrie,
" W. H. Leak,
" W. J . Cogswell,
" W. H. Stephens,
" G. E. Locke,
" J . Davis,
« T. G. Riggs,

MISS SQUEAMISH,
ELLEN TOMKINS,
LUCY,

Mrs. E. Thompson,
Miss LeBrun,
Miss Mary Devlin,

Miss Mary Carr,
Miss J . Stanley,
Miss H. Stanley,

National,
Boston,
1846.
G. G. Spear,
J. R. Paullin,
E. F. Reach,
J. R. Vincent,
G. II. Hill,
J.C.Dunn,

Howard, Boston,
1848.
W. L. Ayling.
G. Goodenow.
C P. Currier.
J. A. Fox.
G. H. Hill.

Mr,
"
«
"
"
"

Mr.
"
"
"
«

Mrs. Kinloch,
Miss Helen Matthews,
Mrs. Alteraus,

Mrs. Melville.
Miss Fanny Roberts.
Mrs. W. L. Ayling.

"

Wheatley 6f Clarke's Arch
St., Philadelphia, 1858.
Mr. Wallis,
" McCullough,
Wright,
" S. D. Johnson
« J. S. Clarke,
" Stearns,
" Street,
u

Mrs. J. G. Gilbert,
Miss E. Taylor,
Mrs. Stoneall,

Holiday Street,
hrttimore, 1860.
Mr. W. II. Bokee.
" W. II. Leak.
» B. T. Ringold.
« W. Scallan.
" J . S. Clarke.
" F. Williams.
" J. S. Edwards.
Miss Mary Carr.
Miss H. Osborn.
Mrs. F. Williams.

JMES m o d e r n iD s t v l e . a n d s u i t e d t o t h e s t a t i o n &ni\ ch&racter of t h e p e r s o n s represented.

f u n s OF REPRESEN>Alios •

One hoar and twenty minutes

J. Addams.

J O H N S. CLARKE
Was born in the city of Baltimore, in 1833. At an early age he
evinced a predilection for the stage, and was, with our distinguished
young tragedian, Edwin Booth, the '* head and f r o n t " of a little band
of juvenile Thespians, — the two lads enacting opposite p a r t s in t r a g ­
edy, which Clarke conceived at the time to be his particular forte.
By the earnest desire of his mother (his only surviving p a r e n t ) ,
y o u n g Clarke entered a lawyer's office, for the purpose of preparing
himself for the legal profession; b u t preferring Shakspeare and the
Drama to musty parchments and the acts of the Revised Statutes, he
determined to adopt the stage as a profession. Having obtained an
engagement at the Howard Athenaeum, Boston, he made his first a p ­
pearance on the 7th of March, 1851, as F r a n k H a r d y , in the comedy
of " P a u l P r y . " He subsequently, in 1852, joined the company at
the Chestnut Street Theatre, Philadelphia, then in its palmy days,
where he remained until 185 i, when he again returned to Baltimore,
as first low comedian of the Front Street Theatre. The complimentary
benefit which was given to him in the fall of 1854 will be remembered
by those who had the good fortune to be present as one of the greatest
ovations ever awarded to native talent in the country. In August, ' 5 5 ,
he became a member of the Arch Street Theatre, Philadelphia, where
he has been ever since, as the leading comedian, and for the last three
years as joint manager with Mr. Wheatley. His occasional " starring "
visits to the Southern cities are always greatly successful. I n the pro­
fession, and by all out of it who enjoy his acquaintance, he is esteemed
highly for qualities t h a t render manhood doubly attractive when com­
bined with those of the artist. As an indication of his present extreme
popularity in Philadelphia, it may be stated t h a t at his last benefit the
thrtmg was so great that the stage was partly given u p to spectators.
We have in his comedy the first grand essential. This is afiluent,
spontaneous, n a t u r a l humor. For this quality it is impossible to subttltiite the graces and clever forms and modes that education bring*

iv

JOHN 8. CLARKE.

It is this bounteous gift that r u n s the artist into dangers. Criticism
mistakes simple excess of humor for extravagance, as Dickens is
always reminded by those most sensible of his vivid n a t u r e , t h a t he
p u t s life under a magnifier, and travesties its incidents and emotions.
We know no comedian who is so thoroughly appreciative of the ludi­
crous as the subject of this notice. His fun is like a perennial fountain,
clear, and sparkling, and gushing. It refreshes all alike. We have
seen old and care-tried men, youths without a care, the educated and
refined, and the rough and unlettered, given u p literally to its strength
a n d stir. We have repeatedly seen " o l d stagers " overcome by the
fun of a single look, or tone, or attitude, and interrupted in their
labors for an unregretted space. Sympathy is the signet of genius,
sympathy, or t h a t subtile, close communion with universal naturo
which, for the sake of distinguishing it from acquired knowledge of
the h u m a n character, we call intuition. Without this delicate sense
no deep impression can be made by the public performer, whether re­
ligious or secular. Mr. Clarke's power with an audience is wonder­
f u l , — magnetic, — because he has its pulse in his hand, and its heart
beating close to his own.
We are all the time seeing how Art is measuring and controlling the
gift of humor with which Mr. Clarke has been endowed. All of hi3
delineations are suggestive of intelligent effort to realize the best func­
tions of the stage. In the fresh p a r t s he has played within the past
twelve-month there has been as little exaggeration as the stage will
allow. (It clearly will not allow any precise and unvarying method ;
since n a t u r e is mysteriously various.)
Versatility distinguishes this comedian eminently. In his brief p r a c ­
tice of his profession he has covered a wide range. We have seen him
as " Toodles," the embodiment of the grotesque and low comical ; as
" Bob A c r e s , " the half-genteel b r a g g a r t ; as " F a r m e r Ashfield," the
type of the pathetic domestic man ; as " Bob T y k e , " the m a n of fierce
passions and original good sympathies ; as " Tilly Slowboy," the awk­
ward, honest creature ; as " M a j o r De B o o t s , " the familiar type of
eccentric ardor unsustained by vital force. In all these characters, land
m a n y more as widely contrasted, we t h i n k Mr. Clarke has showrji the
conception of a general artist, and a power of expression which aa
living comedian possesses in the same degree.
October, 1860.

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

ACT

I.

S C E N E I . — Ji Room in TOMKINS' House, 2 G. — Table and tit*
chairs on L. C. — ELLEN discovered,
reading.
Ellen {throwing down book). I can read no more. I have felt no
interest in the subject for the last half hour. Truly m i n e ' s an envi­
able situation. While other girls are sedulous to secure the affections
of one lover, I have a fresh one offered me every week, by my provi­
dent fither ; all of which have been duly refused. An odd catalogue
of aspirants is mine, to be sure : Merchants, who have so annoyed me
with long stories of drafts — upon my patience. Draffs indeed ; —
advances — failures — shipments — clearances. — No clearance of them
all afforded me so much pleasure as their own. Lawyers, with their
latin and logic — arguments — pleas — which displeased me, — and
suits in which they were nonsuited. Physicians, who have amused
me with the same means that made their patients miserable, — a med­
ley compound of love and fevers, drugs and blisters — t o draw my a t ­
tention ; and to end the list, I have a lord, — a sprig of nobility, — a n
exotic lover. {Knock L. H . ) 0 ! w h o ' s there?
Enter

JOE SHAKSPEARE, L. II. 1 E.

W h a t ' s ' a m i s s , Mr. Joseph?
Joe. You are, and do not know it, as my namesake used to say.
I "m very ill at these numbers. Your father —
El. Is he ill? I ' m sure I heard his voice b u t now.
Joe. Much worse ; — he is in his t a n t r u m s , miss.
El. P r a y explain. I do not understand you.
Joe. Then to speak more poetically, he is in a devil of a passion.
EL And is that all ? You must be used to his quick temper, by
this time. 'T is very soon over again, you know.
Joe. Yes, after a storm t h e r e ' s a calm ; but to speak by delusion,
when the storm has wrecked a ship, of what use is the calm to those
who have gone to the bottom ; hey, miss?
El. True, Mr. Joseph. To what circumstance am I indebted for
this early visit of vours?

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

[ACT

L

Joe. For half a dozen reasons I appear before yon. Let one suf­
fice. — Your father is incensed against us ; — I for bringing a book,
and you for reading it. He is coming here to scold you. I thought it
my duty to inform you. Have you any commands for me, Miss
Ellen?
El. Yes ; see if there are any letters for me, Mr. Joseph ; and go
to the library, and bring me the last new novel. Be careful'; let no
one see it.
Joe. I ' m faithful. I am l o v e ' s ambassador. I wish I was Cupid,
with a bow and arrow. I know whose heart I ' d shoot my shaft into,
and make it stick there too. I '11 do thy bidding ; " y e t ' t i s hard, I
find ; I must be cruel only to be k i n d . "
[Exit, L. H. 1 B.
El. A little Cupid, with a bow and arrow ! Rather an antique.
So, father is coming. A lecture on lords and titles comes with him, I
dare say.
Enter TOMKINS, L. II. 1 E.
Good morning, father. I hope you are not ill.
Tomkins, L. I never was better in all my life. I am not in my
usual mild, good humor. That scoundrel Joe, with his rhyme and
reason, had very nearly p u t me in a passion. I shall be h u n g for
him, yet. I know I shall murder him !
EL You might discharge him, and get another man in his place.
Tom. No, I c a n ' t do that. H e ' s been with me so long I could n ' t
do without him. But he always will have his way, and be damned to
him. Never mind, my dear ; sit down. I have made up my mind, at
last. The result will make you so happy.
EL I am glad of that. What is i t ? — I am impatient to learn.
Tom. I told your aunt you would be ; I told Joe you would be ; I
told 'em all so. Next Monday you will be eighteen.
EL Is that all, sir? I am aware of that.
Tom. Four weeks from that day you are to be married. What do
you think of t h a t ?
EL Married, sir ? — who married ?
Tom. Who? why you, to be sure. Your husband will be here toiay.
EL But indeed, sir, I c a n ' t be married so soon. I have no wish
to be married at all, sir.
Tom. Yes you have. Pooh ! I know better. T h a t ' s j u s t what
your mother said a week before she made a happy man of me. His
lordship will be here to-day, and he has assented to my wish, and you
are to be made Lady Montague. What a pretty sound it has I
EL Sounds give no happiness.
Tom. Well, you will have his lordship, and his name into the b a r ­
gain. If that won't make you happy I don't know what will.
EL The man I love.
Tarn. The man I love ! Yes, to be sure ; t h a t ' s he.
EL No ; Cousin Edward Merston, sir.
Tom. Flints and steel! W h a t ! without my consent?
Here's
mutiny ! I '11 send you to a nunnery, if t h e r e ' s one in the country
t h a i will receive you ; if not, I '11 build one at the'bottom of my g a r ­
den, Ycu s h a n ' t see man or boy, — sunshine or moonshine,.or any

UCENE I . ]

THE

GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

7
r

other kind of shine. This comes from novels and plays. I J lock
you up till you are married ; and I '11 have every book in the house
destroyed, except the Cook's Oracle and the Almanac.
(ELLEN
laughs.)
Don't you laugh at me. 0 dear ! I never shall be a great
m a n , nor have a lord for a son-in-law.
[Exit, R. H. 1 E.
El. I ' m so vexed ; and yet I d o n ' t know why I should be. They
m a y force me to church ; — they cannot force me to speak, when I 'in
there
Enter JOE, L. II. 1 E.
Well, Mr. Joseph, what brings you back so soon ?
Joe. Business, Miss Ellen. I hope you are not angry.
El. N o , not with you, Mr. Joseph ; b u t you have scarcely been
absent long enough to have gone to the library.
Joe. No, miss ; I only went half way.
EL Then why did you r e t u r n ?
Joe. W h y , I returned because I came back ; and I came back be­
cause I d i d n ' t go no further. I met Bill Brown, the hostler. Bill is
a patron of mine. H e ' s a judge of poetry, too. I wrote verses to his
sweetheart for him. H e r earthly name is Dinah, but I personifies her
as the beautiful Cleopatra.
EL (aside). I cannot endure his nonsense now. You said that you
had business with me.
Joe. Look a t me, Miss Ellen ; conceive me to be the messenger of
joy. Conception is a blessing, as my namesake says ; and therefore
your blessing conceive me.
EL I ' m in haste, Mr. Joseph.
Joe. Miss Ellen, if you have no objection I should prefer to be called
Joe.
T h e r e ' s more symphony in it. I t ' s more poetical, and better
responds to my feelings as an author. Here, this is for you. ( Gives
a letter.)
EL For me? From whom, p r a y ? (Opens and reads) " To the
most adorable of her sex. Miss Tomkins, I pen this en deshabille,
I shall not begin my toilette,
As soon as lam cleansed from the hor
rid dust accumulated upon my person, on my way to throw myself at
your feet, I shall do myself that honor. Adieu, with all love's et
ceieras.
Montague."
" l i s certain, then, he will be here to-day.
W h a t ' s to be done? Ah ! as I expected ; here comes my aunt.
Enter Miss SQUEAMISH, R. H. 1 E.
*
Miss Squeamish.
Good morning, child. Why, Mr. Shakspeare, I
a m astonished. Leave the room. (Miss SQUEAMISH crosses c.) So
much do I loathe your sex I cannot converse with ours in the presence
of a man freely as I wish.
Joe. Yes, my dear Miss Squeamish.
Miss. S. D o n ' t dear me, you wretch. Go. Ah, my fascinating
Borneo I
Joe Exchange one glance, you venerable Venus.
" Ah, that those eyes were in heaven !
They'd through the hazy region shine so bright
That 'jc*k« would crow, and think it were the morn."

[ Exit, L. H . 1 B .

8

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

[ACf I .

.Miss S. Now, miss, we are alone, listen to my good advice. Open
your ears. I am told you read n a u g h t y books. Now I have too much
respect for your morals —
El. To think so, ha ? Who told you I read naughty books, my
good, dear a u n t ?
Miss S. Your father, miss impudence. It is not right.
El. And why do you read them? I have not forgotten the titlepage of the book I found under your pillow, one morning.
Miss S. You are too young to understand them. Now, I under­
stand them perfectly.
El. I always thought so, aunt.
Miss S. Hold your tongue, miss, and hear me. It is the wish of
your father that you should be united in marriage with a man —
El. I should hope so, if I am to be married at all.
Miss S. Although I hate the sex myself, I can give advice to
younger maidens, when so desired by their friends. Now, my ad­
vice—
El. I don't desire your advice ; and you need n ' t think because you
pretend to hate the men —
Miss S. Pretend, miss p e r t ! I do not pretend. When a man
even looks at me it offends my sight.
El. Take off your spectacles, and you will not see them.
Miss S. W h a t do you mean, miss ?
El. O, I have watched you ; — as soon as a man appears, old or
young, if your glasses happen to be off, on they go directly.
Miss S. T h a t ' s because I do not wish their eyes to meet mine.
Do you dare to think, miss, I can see better with them t h a n without
them ? No ; I do not wear them to improve my sight, but because
they give one an air of age and respectability, t h a t ' s all.
El. I ' m sure there is no need of that. Your old age shows itself
plain enough.
Miss, S. How dare you use such language to your old — I mean
your own aunt ?
El. If it does not please my own old a u n t , I am sure she is under
no obligation to stay. You can leave me.
Miss S. I shall not leave you till I have given you a serious lec­
ture. Where are all the naughty books? Give them to me.
El. For you to read at midnight. 0 no ; I have too much respect
fur your morals, aunt.
Miss S. I tell you, miss impudenca, I '11 not put up with this lan­
guage. . Give me the books, I tell you.
El. I tell you I shall do no such thing.
Miss S. Sit down and hear me, miss. This marriage —
. El. I had much rather not. I wish to be alone ; and as you are so
fond of lectures, I '11 leave you to lecture by yourself. [Exit, R. H. 1 s.
Miss S. I declare she has absolutely left the room. H e r e ' s pretty
t r e a t m e n t ! The girl has been ruined by too much indulgence. When
I was a very young girl, I would not have acted so ; and t h a t ' s why
I am a single woman now. Well, I hope it is all for the best. There 'a
Mr. Shakspeare, now ; if in some of his poetic moments he would but
ask my hand, I believe I should say Amen, with a fluttering heart,
and become Mrs. Shakspe.ire.
[Exit, R. II. 1 E. — Clear stage-

SCENE I I . ]

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

SCENE IT.
# Garden, 5 G. —Landscape fiats, 5 G — Iron rail­
ing across stage, 4 G. — Gate c. — Set house ii. u . 3 E. — Gardenstool on L. H.
N

Enter

JEDEDIAH, L. U. E., through gate; a School Grammar in hit
hand.
Jedediah. Wal, I swow this g r a m m a r ' s awful hard stuff to l a m .
I 've been trying all the morning to parse chowder. Now, clam is a
noun, third person spoken of.
Enter

TOMKINS, from house, R. ir.

Singular (sees TOMKINS) ; yes, and damned singular, too.
Tom. (rot noticing JEDEDIAH). NOW I am in the air I can scarcely
keep myself cool. First t h a t rhyming rascal puts me in a passion ;
and when I get a little over t h a t , t h a t wench Ellen, with her diso­
bedience, pipes me hot again. Something must be done. I 'U report
Ned's death, and then I may carry my point ; for I believe she would
prefer a n y husband rather than a dead one. This is just about the
time his cruise is u p , too. T h a t ' s unlucky. I must consult her a u n t
about it. (Sees JEDEDIAH.) W h o ' s t h i s ? A country lad sent by
Bustle, I presume. I hope he d o e s n ' t read novels a n d make poetry.
At all events he looks stupid enough.
Jed. How de du, major ? Du you live here ?
Tom. I do live here, and this is my house. I 'm sure my money
paid for it.
Jed. That is a nice house of yourn, really, major ; but you ought
to give it a new coat of paint last spring.
Tom. (aside). W h a t the devil does the fellow mean ?
Jed. Major, I understood you wanted to hire a chap ; I s'pose a
rale cute one. A sample stands afore you.
Tom. Yes, I do. Well, what may I call your name?
Jed. You may call it the Great Mogul, or the King of the Cannibal
Islands, if you ' r e a mind tu ; but it ain't. I say, major, I wonder
if we can agree about wages ?
Tom. Well, what can you do to make yourself of service to me ?
Jed. Wal, I can do nothing just as easy as anything, now ; but I
tell you, when I lived a t h u m , dad used to work me like J e h u .
You don't know our place, I guess. I tell you, we can raise more
pumpkins, and young uns, and blue-nosed potatoes than we can h a r ­
vest, a darned sight.
Tom. B u t you did n ' t tell me your name.
Jed. Wal, you see my d a d ' s first wife was a second cousin to Ben
Hannerferd's daughter J e r u s h a , — she that married Ike Armstrong ;
and arter t h e y ' d had four children, — two gals, one boy, and a crip­
ple, •— she died, one day, eating artichokes when she had the chickenpox, and left all the children on Ike's hands. But he seems to get
along p u r t y well, and I guess they don't W a n t for nothin'.
Tom. (aside). I shall have his whole history directly. My lad,
jump over your family, and let me know who you are.
Jed. My n a m e ' s Jedediah Homebread, — called led f
shc^t, —*
allowed to be the smartest c h a p a t a buskin' or log-reran' in our parts,
besides knowin something about grammar.
or

10

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

[ACT I.

Tom. (aside). I like this young man. I fancy lie will do just as I
wish him. He is rather talkative, but I can break him of that. Well,
young m a n , I think you will suit me. I '11 make trial of you, at any
rate. You can read and write, I presume ? — you have been to school
I dare say a good deal.
Jed. Wal, I used to go to school in the winter, a spell, — that is, I
hauled wood one month, split rails one month, went t u ' m i l l p a r t o'
the time, and tu school about two weeks.
Tom. Say no more, young man ; I '11 hire you ; b u t you must re­
member, I am very particular. What I say in my house is law ;' and
above all I must never be contradicted. I t puts me in a passion di­
rectly.
Jed. B u t what wages are you going to give me ?
Tom. If you suit me I don't mind what I pay you. We s h a n ' t
quarrel.
Jed. Wal, all right. I say, tell me your name.
Tom. Tomkins ; you must call me Squire Tomkins.
Jed. Wal, I will. Why d i d n ' t you tell us t h a t afore?
Tom. Come into- the house with me. I '11 find a room for you ; and
to-day is a busy day. I dare say they '11 find something for you
to do.
Jed. May be they '11 want me to l a r n 'em grammar.
Tom. Nonsense ; put your g r a m m a r away. I ' l l find something
else for you to do.
[Exit into house, R. H. U. E.
Jed. (looking at book). I is a personal pronoun ; s q u a r e ' s a noun.
Pronouns go before nouns. I d o n ' t see how t h a t can be ; 'cause the
square he went off fust —
Enter

WILKINS through gate, from R. H. — Comes down n. H.

Wilkins.
This is the house. I think my letters must have strength­
ened the old m a n ' s good opinion of me. 'T is a bold push ; b u t I ' m
in for it now, and must go on. Thirty thousand is worth a little h a r d
work. I think I am not indifferent to the lady ; I believe she loves
me ; so all is safe that way. I want her money ; the old man wants
my t i t l e — W h o ' s here? One of the servants, I presume. I must
begin my new character. W ho are you ?
Jed. I is a personal pronoun —
Wil. Yes, I dare say ; but who are you ?
Jed. I say, you got out of the stage, yonder, d i d n ' t you?
Wil
A damned inquistive Yankee. Yes, I did get out of the stage ;
what then?
Jed. 0 , nothin'.
Wil. Come, sir, show me to my master.
Jed. Do you mean my master, the squire ?
Wil. If you will show me the way —
Jed. What do you do for a livin' ?
Wil. Curse the fellow's impudence ! B u t I cannot find my way
without him. Go to the gentleman, sir. I presume you can parse
that.
Jed. Yes, I can parse that. Go is an unsartin irregular verb,
Bulky mood, imperfect tense ; first person go, second person go it,
third person no go ; made to agree with old dad's bay horse Dick.
r

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

SCENE I I I . ]

11

Wil. Ha ! h a ! Now parse gentleman.
Jed. Gentleman is a distracted noun, ridiculous mood, r a s t tense,
and governed generally by feminine gender —
Tom. (in house). Jedediah !
Jed. There, t h a t ' s the squire's voice.
Wil. It is, indeed. Now for it.
Enter TOMKINS, from

house.

Ha ! my dear sir, I am glad to see you. How is my charming Elleh,
your daughter?
Tom. 0 , my lord, I ' m proud to take you by the hand.
Jed. Lord ! I wonder if h e ' s a lord. Squire, introduce me.
Tom. Hold your tongue, Jedediah.
(To WILKINS) T h a t ' s a
young m a n I hired to-d^iy to assist me, as I expected you. Go i n ,
Jedediah.
Jed. Yes, I will. (Aside) He a lord ! He d o n ' t look as though
he knowed enough to enjoy the Christian era.
[Exit, into house.
Wil. Mr. Tomkins, now that we are alone, let me squeeze your
h a n d in friendship ; though in my own country it would be considered
degrading, and beneath the dignity of nobility, to be thus familiar
>rith a commoner.
Tom. T h a n k you for your condescension. Come, walk into t h e
house.
[Exeunt, ceremoniously, into house.
SCENE III.

# Room in TOMKINS' House, 2 G. — Boor in F., used.
— Two chair* sent on.
Enter

Miss S. (reading

Miss SQUEAMISH, R. H.

a slip of

paper).

Daphne, Dian, you are all that's
chaste,
Ifjlour and water boiled makes paste ;
And I do love thee, venerable Venus ;
And naught but love shall go between us.

0 , the dear, poetic man ! I declare this Mr. Shakspeare is a divinity,
— a J u p i t e r , — a Bacchus ! I do not let him know all my feelings.
When he is with me I am all indifference, a s a prudent virgin should
be ; and when he is away I melt in anticipated raptures.
Enter

JOE, L. H. 1 E.

Joe. Miss Squeamish, I come to know if you will dine to-day with
nis lordship, a t the family table ?
Miss S. I do not know, Mr. Shakspeare. There will be men there.
I like not their company.
Joe. 0 , m o r e ' s the pity ! I wish you did, Miss Squeamish. Why
can't you ? All men would be your admirers, and I the chief.
Miss S. I know you say so ; but how am I to know it is so ? You
seducing men ! you snare a maiden's h e a r t
Joe. (aside).
Ah ! n o w ' s the time. I'11 take h e r by storm. I ' l l
* pour forth rhapsody and poetics.
0 angelic maiden ! by your love I ' m struck ;
1 bleed like an ox, when the butcher's stuck -~

And there I stick.

0 , for inspiration !

!2

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

[ACT A.

Mus S. For what, Mr. Shakspeare?
Joe. For inspiration, to breathe out my life, and expire at your feet
in ecstasy !
Miss S. You m u s t n ' t stay any longer. I shall melt ! Why don't
you go ?
Jos. I can't. I ' m detained by supernatural means.
Miss S. I don't understand you.
Joe. T h a t ' s because you will not. Love detains me ; not fatherly
love, nor motherly love, nor sisterly love ; b u t lover-like love, as m y
namesake says.
Miss S. 0 , that namesake of yours was an angelic mortal ! and so
are you. Go now. After dinner we may meet in the diamond bower ;
and there we can " waste our sweetness on the desert a i r , " as your
namesake says. B u t go, now, I implore you !
Joe. I can't go.
(Kneels.)
Your image haunts me, awake or asleep,
And makes me baa like a woolly sheep.
I am a sheep ; you must my shepherd be,
And I '11 bleet and baa aloue for thee.

Enter JEDEDIAH, L. II. 1 E. — JOE rises.
Jed. Joe, what on airth are you doin' ? The squire and me have
been hunt-in', ar.ter you all over creation. He said he sent you some­
where, but y o u ' d been gone so long h e ' d forgot where he sent you.
Miss S. I am glad you came in, young man. He would have staid
all day, reading his poetry. I shall inform his master of him.
(Aside to JOE) Ah ! this is lover's artifice, my dear. I do not mean
what I say. 0 , my fluttering h e a r t !
[Exit, R. H. 1 E
Joe. I 'm satisfied. All is right.
Jed. Why Joe, what in thunder was you and that old critter doing ?
Y ou was clus enough together to make a pair o' Siamese Twins..
Joe. Young man, d o n ' t talk to me. I ' m a scholar.
Jed. Wal, t h a t ' s nothing. So be I tu.
Joe. W hat does your scholarship consist of?
Jed. Why, l a r n i n ' generally. I don't pretend to doctor l a r n i n ' , or
lawyer l a r n i n ' , or preacher l a r n i n ' ; but for the rale genuine grammar
l a r n i n ' I am a six-horse team and a big dog under the waggon.
Joe. You have tried the poetics, I suppose?
Jed. No, I never tried him, — not as I knows on.
Joe. Did you never try at all ?
Jed. 0 yes, I 've helped try out often, and sweat like a butcher aU
the time.
Joe. May I know the subjects of your labor ?
Jed. 0 yes ; hog's lard, beef fat, and taller.
Joe. T h a t ' s not what I mean. I mean classic —
Jed. Sick ! no none of us ever got sick ; but it was plaguy greasy
work, I can tell you. I ' l l never forget the trying scrape we had
when we killed our old black and white sow. 0 ! she was the awfullest fattest old critter you ever did see. I know Aunt Eunice Lovejoy
was u p to our house, t h a t day ; and I recollect I was busy studying
s y n t a x , and I did n ' t want to lay down my book ; so I took one hand
:

r

T

KCENF I I I . ]

THE QJxA&S

MOUNTAIN BOY.

IS

and throwd a hull lot of shavings under the pot, that ma le it bile
over so quick it all went on our Eunice ; and I declare if she d i d n ' t
look worse than a scalded shoat, on the last day o' hog-killln' Uncle
Jonah told her h e ' d give me a lickin' for i t ; but I knew he would n ' t ,
'cause he hated the old critter worse than a skunk. But look here,
Joe, — I like to forget it, — the square says that we must clean out
the best room.
Joe. I '11 see to it. I '11 go to the garden first, and get some vege­
tables for dinner.
[Exit, L. II. 1 E.
Jed. I guess I '11 have the old man give me the situation to oversee
Joe.
The square thinks my clothes a i n ' t good enough to be round
here with. I wish h e ' d keep thinking so ; maybe he '11 get me a new
suit. Wal, I '11 go down and see if Joe is getting any sarce for din­
ner. If he d o n ' t quit making poetry for t h a t old woman, and tend to
his chores better t h a n he has done lately, I '11 have the square dis­
charge him quicker t h a n s'cat. The critter has got so industriously
lazy lately he has to git up about twelve o'clock every night, and rest
his hands and face on the head-board.
[Exit, L. II. 1 E.
Enter ELLEN, C. D.
EL Well, now what am I to do? My father insists on my marry­
ing this lord. If I remain obstinate I know he will lock me u p ; and
then if Edward should come I should n ' t see him — A lucky thought,
— I will pretend I do love him, and acquiesce in all my father says.
Then I shall not be restrained from walking out alone ; and when Ed­
ward comes I '11 elope with him. Lucy ! I '11 make Lucy my confi­
dant, and prepare for his arrival.
Enter

LUCY, R. II. 1 E.

Lucy. Did you call me, miss ?
EL Yes, I believe I did ; I called you because I heard you say, the
other day, what a pretty ring I had on my forefinger. I make you a
present of it, Lucy. (Gives
ring.)
Lu. Thank you, miss. Is this all you called me for ?
EL Yes ; but as you are here I want to ask you a question. Did
you ever r u n away, Lucy ?
Lu. Me ! B u n away ? Bless me ! no. Whoever thought of such
a thing?
EL Yes, r u n away. I heard you were in love once. Is it t r u e ?
Lu. (aside). I wonder who told her. Me ! 0 no, miss ; no !
EL Ah ! there is a young man I know. Now, if he would m a r r y
you, and your father objected, w o u l d n ' t you do so too ?
Lu. Do so too ! Do what, m a ' a m ?
El. Why, I told you. Run away with him, to be sure.
Lu. 0 no, not I, miss ! Run away ! for what ?
El. How dull you are ! My father would force me to m a r r y one
m a n , and my wish is to marry another. Now, I ' m going to make
believe love him, till Cousin Edward comes.
Lu. Make believe love, miss ! I never heard of such a thing. I
should never know how to begin —
EL Now, if Cousin Edward comes lie will not be allowed to enter
2

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOT.

[ACT

L

the houss ; so if somebody could contrive to happen to see him for
me —
Lu. Well, miss ? So ; I see how it is —
El. And then I should happen to see him, too, and he should h a p ­
pen i$ c a r r y me off, — why, I could n ' t help that, — you shall go too,
Lacj —
Lv.. Me ! 0 no ! I c a n ' t do that. I shall lose my place.
El. Only a little way, till I get used to i t ; then you may come
fcack again.
Lu. B u t perhaps, — I only say perhaps ; — you told me, the other
d a y , t h a t your cousin had been gone five years. T h a t ' s a long time
for a m a n to keep in one mind. He might have r u n away with some­
body else, before now.
Wilkins (without, L. H. 1 E . ) 0 ! t h a n k you ; show me the door,
and I '11 find the room myself.
El. Did n ' t I hear somebody speak, on the stairs ?
Lu. I thought so.
El. Don't mention to my aunt a word of what I have told you ; and
if Edward comes you promise to assist me.
Lu. Yes, miss, I will.
EL Go to my chamber, and take as many of my jewels as yot*
please. If they won't suit you I '11 give you money to get new ones ;
but keep my secret.
Lu.
0 , never fear me, miss.
{Exit, L. H. 1 E..
El. ' T is Montague. Now for my pretended change.
Enter WILKINS, L. H. 1 E.
Wil. So, my angel, your father informs me your indifference to
your devoted was unreal. Is it so ?
EL Why, sir, I d i d n ' t choose that you should know my real senti­
ments ; nor did I expect he would have informed you. B u t since it is
so —
Wil. I am happy to hear it. I have a volume of conversation in
store for you. I signified to your father my willingness to raise you to
a title, in earnest of how much I love you ; although I believe it is
anti-fashionable to say so.
EL I duly appreciate the honor to be conferred. I am aware of
the great condescension on your p a r t , and am grateful for the interest
you take in our family.
Wil. (aside). You will not be so grateful for the interest I shall
take out of it. Will Miss Tomkins so far honor her devoted slave and
obsequious admirer as to allow me her a r m , for a walk in the garden.
(Aside
I must keep it u p .
EL (aside). I suppose I must. With pleasure, sir. I '11 j u s t step
out and a r r a n g e my dress, and be with you directly.
Wil. I shall wait for you at the gate.
[Exit ELLEN, R. H. 1 E.
1

Enter TOMKINS, C. D.
Tom.
I have been standing with my ear to the door. I heard it
all. I knew how it would be. Where are you going? S t o p !
Wil. I must be excused. Ellen expects me. Don't detain me.

iCENE IV. 1

THE

GREEN MOUNTAIN EOT.

15

Tom.
Detain you ! no ; but as things are going, c a n ' t you call me
something more than squire ? 1 want to be called Lord Tomkins, or
Sir J o n a s , or something that sounds noble and great.
Wil. (aside). The old fool anticipates his honor. 0 yes, Sir Jonas,
I can give you a title, pro tern. When we arrive at home the king
will give his sanction. Kneel Mr. Tomkins (TOMKINS kneels. — W I L ­
KINS touches him with cane on shoulder); rise Sir Jonas Tomkins.
Adieu, Sir Jonas.
[Exit, R. H . 1 F.
Tom.
He said i t ! How it sounds ! — Sir Jonas i They shall call
me nothing b u t Sir Jonas. Here, Jedediah ! This is all I wanted,
Now I a m happy. (Dances and capers about.)
Enter

JEDEDIAH, L. H. 1 E.

Jed. W h a t ' s the matter, squire? You got the spring halt.
Tom.
Where are all my servants, Jedediah, and my family?
Jed. Wal, I don't know. I guess they 're all p u r t y busy doing
something. But I say, a i n ' t it purty nigh dinner time ? I ' m getting
awful h u n g r y , squire.
Tom.
Squire ! Don't call me squire, sir.
Jed. W h y , t h a t ' s what I agreed to call you.
Tom.
Yes ; but things are changed now. Tell Joe when he meets
me to call me Sir Jonas ; and you call me Sir Jonas too. Tell the
cook-maid, and chamber-maid, the ostler and the cow-boy, all to call
me Sir Jonas. I '11 tell the rest myself. Jedediah, why don't you
change y o u r clothes ?
Jed. W h y , you see, squire, — I mean Sir Jonas, — I h a i n ' t got
a n y t h i n g only what I got on.
Tom.
Come along with me ; I '11 find some for you to-day ; and to­
morrow you shall have a new suit from the tailor.
[Exit, R. H. 1 E .
Jed. H a , h a ! its all right. I knew when I called him Sir Jonas I
was good for the toggery. Now I '11 go and dress up. I expect I shall
look almighty fierce. Maybe I ' l l see Lucy. Lucy is a proper nice
gal.
The only objection I got to her is she snores so distressin' loud.
She snored so loud the other night she was obliged to go to the neigh­
bors to sleep, to keep from waking herself up.
[Exit, R. II. 1 E.
S C E N E IV. — Garden,
Enter WILKINS from

as in Scene

II.

house, R. H.

Wil. To avoid that staring servant, I left the gate ; and now I have
missed the lady. I wish I could h u r r y this business a little ; four
weeks is so long. I a m in no very easy situation here ; every moment
in fear of detection. If I could get the old man to advance something,
and I should be detected in any of my little swindling speculations, I
might avoid Justice, who stumbles over nothing so soon as money, in
her blind march. A young officer entering the gate. A stranger. —
He does not appear acquainted with the premises.
Enter EDWARD, c.,from
Edward
(down L. n . )
lord of this mansion ?

Good day, sir.

L.

I presume I address the

THE

GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

[ACT v,

JViL, R. (aside). So, he has* heard of me, then. Yes, I am the
lord of this mansion. Proceed, young man, with your business.
Ed. I received your polite invitation, and have done myself the
honor of waiting upon you.
Wil. Oh ho ! I am glad to see you. P r a y , by what name is your
family designated ?
Ed. My card, sir, will inform you. (Gives
card.)
Wil. (aside). Merston ! The devil ; that name ! The very name
of— I dare say there are many of the name. You are in the n a v y ,
I presume?
Ed. I a m , sir. (Aside) This must be some m i s t a k e . — I was told
he was an old gentleman.
Wil. Well, Merston, I am glad to see you. I hope you will like
me so well as to stay till I am married. ' T will be shortly ; and her«
comes the angel to whom I am to be united.
Enter

ELLEN, from house, R. n.

EL, R. II. M y lord, I am sorry I have kept you waiting.
Ed. W h a t do I see ? — Ellen !
El. Edward ! What a situation ! And now I cannot explain.
Ed. So, i t ' s my Ellen, after all.
Wil., c. Why, w h a t ' s the matter with the people? I suppose you
wait for a formal introduction. Mr. Merston, Miss Tomkins —
Ed., L. Tomkins I Am I in my senses? Miss Ellen, what arc I
to understand by this ?
El. What shall I say ? Edward —
Ed. I see, — five years may change the most constant.
El. B u t E d w a r d , his lordship —
Ed. It appears, then, sir, you are not the master of this house.
Whoever you may be, I care not. Be pleased to explain how and why
I find t h a t lady here ; and by what right you call her Tomkins.
Wil. Young man, when you address me you are to suppose you
address Lord Montague, sir, of Romney Castle, as p*er card.
(Hands
one.) As to any particulars as regards this lady, if they in the least
concern you, ask them of herself.
Ed. No ; with her I will not exchange a word. You are to be
married. I will be present at the ceremony. I promised that, and I
will keep my word. She knows it. (ELLEN retires up c.) I shall be
glad to hear from you, in answer to my question.
Wil. Young man, your conversation does not please the lady.
Mr. Tomkins, this lady's father, will explain everything to your satis­
faction. Here he comes, sir. (Aside) Curse this fellow ; ' t i s her
cousin. (Goes up to ELLEN.)
Enter TOMKINS, from house, R. H.
Tom.
Odds ! flints and steel ! I ' m so happy ! There they a r e , bib
ling and cooing, as fond as turtle doves.
Ed. Sure I know that voice. My dear uncle !
Tom.
W h o ' s t h a t ? N e d ! (Crosses to him.)
How d ' y e do? —
I ' m glad to see you. Look there !
there is your little Cousin Ellen.
Ed. I had found that out before ycu c a n e , sir.

SCANE IV. ]

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

17

Tom. She *s going to be m a r r i e d — to a lord ! There, Ned, t h a t ' s
his lordship.
Ed. I had found that out too, sir. Before I went to sea, you had
promised her to me. I loved her then.
Tom. Pooh ! nonsense ! Now I remember. Out of my house, di­
rectly !
Ed. I am not in your house, sir.
Tom. Out of my grounds ! I won't have you in my territories till
the weddirg 's over ; and maybe not then. Ellen does n ' t want you
now.
Ed. I know it, sir. She h a s , by her actions, told me so. She
weds another. Well, farewell (going L . ) ; my little frigate will soon
again be ready for sea. I '11 j u m p on board, and as we stem the foam­
ing billow, I may think of times past, a n d — 0 ! damme, Ned, this is
too boyish. Good bye, Uncle Tomkins ! — I d o n ' t know how you got
the name.
Tom., R. II. W h a t ! dare you dispute my n a m e ? I t ' s mine by act
of Parliament, — no, I don't mean that ; by act of Court assembled.
H a r k ' e , Ned ; I don't remember ever giving Ellen to you ; so tell his
lordship you d o n ' t love her. It may save him uneasiness.
Ed. Never, sir !
Tom. You are a disobliging young rascal, and you s h a n ' t stay in
my company another hour. (Goes up.)
Ed. I shall not, indeed, sir ! nor in the same town. I leave you
forever, and your finnikin lord and lady, there.
El. (down R . ) I must undeceive him. Could he b u t know the
feelings of my h e a r t ! — If I knew his lodgings. — ' t i s a r a s h step,
but I can think of no surer way. My lord, (TOMKINS comes down c.)
this young spark has offended both you and me. His conduct de­
m a n d s atonement.
Wil. Yes, my love, it does. (Aside) 1 <shall get myself in t o . a
pretty scrape here. I '11 bully him. Young man, where are you to
be found, t h a t I may chastise you, at a proper time, for your insult
to me.
Ed. (advancing
towards him, c.) Chastise me, sir ! I am here !
— No time like the present.
Wil. (aside).
H e ' s not to be frightened. The presence of ft
lady —
Ed. Send the lady into the house.
Wil. No, sir ; your address, if 3^011 please.
Ed. For a few hours, I may be found at the hotel below.
El. (aside). I will send to him. He shall know my mind.
Tom., R. c. Come, come, I '11 have no fighting.
Ed. I shall be impatient till I hear from you. If I am to leave t i s
town, I care not how soon. You will find me ready, sir.
[ Exit, L. 11. 1 E,
El. (aside).
He did not even look at me. They must not have
cause to suspect my design. I ' m glad h e ' s gone, f a t h e r ; h e ' s so
rude. How he has changed since he has been at sea !
Tom.. But for all that, I '11 have no fighting.
Wil. (aside).
Nor I, if I ca*i help it.
El. No. My lord, I am sorry I urged vou to it, to be shot a t by
2*

18

THE

[in

GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

U

such a wild fellow. He may kill you. (Aside) I must prevent their
meeting.
Wil. Give yourself no uneasiness, my dear
If he dares come out
I can shoot.
El. F a t h e r , let us retire into the house.
Tom.
Take her in.
[Exeunt ELLEN and WILKINS, into house.
I '11 send to Ned. There shall be no fight. Jedediah ! I '11 send him
down to the hotel at once. Flints and steel J if I don't look out I
never shall have a lord for a son.
[Exit, into house.
SCENE V. — A Chamber in TOMKINS' House, 1 G.
Enter JEDEDIAH, dressed up in livery,

L. H. 1 E.

Jed. (admiring his dress). Wal, now I guess I look about as piert
as anybody that travels this section of the country ; and I feel about
as grand as a large-sized turkey-gobbler, when his hen is a settin'.
(Looks off R . ) Hello ! here comes Lucy. Now for a little courtin'
ucrape.
Enter LUCY, R. H. 1 E.
W h a t do you think o' me now, Lucy ?
Lu. I d o n ' t think on you at all, you stupid country booby.
Jed. W a l , I guess you wish to consider me in the objective case.
Lu. You had better go and take off your master's clothes.
Jed. Now look Lsre, you need n ' t go to blackguardin'. They ' r e
b r a n new ; — he jesv bought 'em. B u t you better go and take off
your mistress' calico g o v n . She gave it tu you, I know she did.
Lu. Mistress' gown, indeed ! I bought it, and paid for it, with
my own money, so I did.
Jed. Come, Luce, d o n ' t let us quarrel. Tell you, T know'd a chap
as kissed a gal once. Give me a kiss, Luce, and I '11 give you ninepence in silver.
Lu. Saucy, impudent blockhead ! Ninepence, indeed !
Jed. 0 , you n e e d n ' t turn u p your nose at ninepence. Afore I *ve
been here long you '11 be glad to let me kiss you for n o t h i n ' , and give
me something to boot, tu.
Tom. (without, R . ) Lucy !
Jed. T h e r e ' s the square callin' on you — Sir Jonas, I mean.
Enter TOMKINS, R. H. 1 E.
Well, Sir J o n a s , how will I do now ?
Tom.
Lucy, Ellen wants you.
[Exit LUCY, R. H. I B .
{To JEDEDIAH) Here, take this to the hotel. (Gives letter.)
Jed. (taking it). W h a t ' s in it?
Tom.
W h a t ' s that to you? D i d n ' t I tell you to do as I bid you,
and never to ask me any questions. If he asks any questions of you,
say I was resolved ; and stick to your story.
Jed. Stick to my story ! I always could do t h a t ; but old Uncle
Jonah, he used to be the darndest old critter to tell stories you ever did
see.
He got surprised, though, one day ; — he had a black hen, and
ihe laid a white egg.

SCENE I.'j

19

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

Tom. Ha ! h a ! h a !
Jed. Uncle Jonah and I we h a d twenty cows, between us. H e had
nineteen, and I had one ; — mine was a calf.
Tom.
H a ! h a ! ha ! one of the cows Was a calf!
[Exit R. H . , laughing heartily.
Jed. Wal, I 've got the sqare in a good humor again. Maybe he '11
give me another suit of clothes ; so I '11 go right down with this let­
ter. ( Goes L. )
Enter LUCY, with letter, R. H. 1 E.
Lu. Stop, M r . Jedediah. Where are you going ?
Jed. Going down to the tavern with a letter, for the square. I ' m
in a n awful h u r r y !
Lu. Take this down, too. (Offers letter.)
Jed. You got to give me a kiss, then, or I won't du it.
(Takes
letter.)
Lu. (aside). I suppose I must, for Miss Ellen's sake. There.
(JEDEDIAH kisses her. — She runs offn. II. 1 E. — He looks after her;
dances off, L. H. 1 E., singing "Hail Columbia," §c. — Quick Drop.
END

OF ACT I .

ACT

II.

SCENE I. — The Hotel Yard, 1 G. — Door L. II. F.,
Enter SANDFIELD,/row

practicable.

D. F. L., muffled in a cloak.

Sand field. The landlord informs me there has been but one stranger
nrrived a t his house who d i d n ' t pass through with the stage, except
Edward a n d myself.
Enter

EDWARD, L. H. 1 E.

Young man, why so soon returned?
Ed. Why, sir, I c o u l d n ' t very well stay longer, as I was turned
out of the house.
Sand. W h a t mean you, sir?
Ed. Why, sir, this Mr. Tomkins proves to be no less a person than
my uncle.
Sand. Indeed ! What cause have you given for such harsh treat­
ment?
Ed. I was somewhat astonished to find m y uncle here, whom I left
in the city, b u t more so to find m y Cousin Ellen about to be married
to a Lord Montague ; so I merely mentioned a promise he had made to
me to give me his daughter, a n d he bade me go about my business. I
Spoke my mind pretty freely. I t did not suit his lordship, nor her
ladyship, and now I expect a challenge from him immediately.
Sand. I must see this Montague.
Enter

Jed. How de d u ?

JEDEDIAH, L. H. 1 E.

(To EDWARD) I want to ask you one que*

20

TIIL (JRE^N MOUNTAIN BOY.

[ACT

a.

tion ; — be you ike chap that was up to the squire's, a little whilf
ago?
Ed. The hour of meeting, T suppose. I was there, sir.
Jed. Wal, so I thought. H e r e ' s a letter for you. (Gives it.)
Sand. Young man, do nothing without my advice.
[Exit into house, L. D. F.
Ed. (opening and reading letter). "Ned, don't you fight; if hi*
lordship pulls your nose, don't you fight him.
You may kill him;
and then Ellen will never be a lady, nor I have a lord for a son.
If you want money, send for it. His lordship would meet you tomorrow morning, but I am determined it shall not be ; so you had
belter mind your Uncle
Tomkins."
Jed. W h a t do you think of it?
Ed. It requires no-answer, sir.
Jed. Yes it does ; squire said it did. Wal, a i n ' t you goin' to ask
me any questions. The squire said you would, and told me what to
say.
Ed. W h a t did he tell you to say ?
Jed. Why, to say t h a t he was resolved ; and to stick to my story.
Now, if you want me to tell you a story, I '11 —
Ed. No, sir. Leave me !
Jed. Why, what a pucker h e ' s in ! Good by, sir.
[Exit, L. H. 1 E.
Ed. I am quite at a loss to understand the drift of this epistle.
Why did I not hear from the party himself?
Reenter JEDEDIAH, L. H. 1 E.
Well, sir, what now ?
Jed. Why, darn it, I was goin' off without doin' what I came for.
Ed. Well, sir, what is it?
Jed. Why, h e r e ' s another letter for you. (Gives it.)
Ed. Well done, stupidity. A fair hand. — 'T is Ellen's.
(Opens
and reads) "Dear Edward, I love you, as lever have and ever shall.
Heed not what passed in your presence.
It was but to deceive my
father, who would force me to marry that coxcomb Montague, for his
title.
I was obliged io have recourse to the stratagem of the meeting
with Montague, that I might ascertain your lodgings, and inform you
of this, as you said you should immediately leave town. If you had
done so, and in ignorance of my feelings towards you, what would
have become of me? Act as you think fit. With full confidence in
yeur honor, I will act as you direct.
I will take care there shall be
no duel. Let me hear from you by the bearer of this. Adieu, till we
meet. Truly yours, Ellen."
Can I believe my eyes, — my senses?
Yes, 't is real. How shall I act?
Jed. Wal, what is it all about? Are you goin' to ask me any ques­
tions now? If you a i n ' t , I '11 ask you some.
Ed. Stay here till I return. This requires an answer, and shall
have i t
[Exit into hotel, L. H. F.
Jed. Melt my Ingy rubber shoes into sticky-plaster, if I don't think
t h a t c h a p ' s about half crazy ! Maybe h e ' s in love, though. Wal,
t h a t ' s about the same thing. Speakin' of love, I wish Luce was here.
Swow, that gal is enough to make a feller break the tenth command­
ment, by Moses !
[Exit, L. H. 1 K

CCENE I I . ]

THE

21

GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

SCENE I I . — A Room in TOMKINS' House, 2 G . — Boor in F., used.
Enter ELLEN, R. H. 1 E.
El. So, everything is prepared.
steal from the p a r t y , and —

If Edward will but come, [ '11

Enter JOE, L. H. 1 E.
Well, Mr. Joseph.
Joe. 0 , Miss Ellen ! behold Love's messenger. T h e r e ' s a tide in
the affairs of men and women, as my namesake says. H e r e ' s a sheet
of love for you, entrusted to my keeping by one who loves not wisely,
but too well, as my namesake says.
El. Give it to me, then.
Joe. Not without some prelude. Great events are always preceded
by —
Tom. (without, R. H.) J o e !
Joe. Here comes master. Take it, quick.
Enter TOMKINS, R. H. 1 E.
Tom.
Come, d i n n e r ' s ready. (ELLEN drops letter, in receiving it.)
We are waiting for you. I saw a letter. — I saw it drop. Give it to
me, I tell you !
El. ' T i s nothing. (Aside to JOE) This is all from your clumsy,
stupid negligence. Now say something.
Tom.
Why don't you give it me? N o t h i n g ! What do you call
nothing? Folded and sealed. — I saw it.
Joe. (aside). I have it. (Aloud) Let him see it, miss. I am glad
master is coming to the light.
El. (aside). The fool is not going to let him read it, surely. Joseph.
' T i s from Edward.
Joe. Give it me. (Takes'it from her.
iside) I '11 bring you off.
I '11 read it to you. — 'T is some poetry of mine, — some reasons.
Tom.
0 , damn your poetry and your reasons ! Read it if you dare !
It would take away my appetite. Go to the dining-room.
Joe. I will. Miss Ellen, here ; if your father rejects, I know it ' s
dear to you.
El. I '11 read it at my leisure. In the mean time, should you be in­
spired, and have any more like this, let me have them.
Tom. Pooh ! nonsense ! d o n ' t you read them.
Enter JEDEDIAH, L. H. 1 E.
What do you want ?
Jed. W h y , I came to tell you that the cook says d i n n e r ' s on the
table. I seed her c a r r y i n ' on it up. I t smokes like a chimney on
fire ; — more puddin' and pies than — I say, Sir J o n a s , I want to
ask you a question. I t must cost you an awful sight to live the way
y c u do. 0 ! t h e r e ' s that bild turkey ; the cook has stuck it all over
with isters and biled eggs, and slobbered m o r e ' n a pound o'%elted
butter all over it. I t ' s a wonder to me the critter h a s n ' t spiled
it —
Tom.
Come, Ellen , and you two remain within call.
[Exeunt

TOMKINS and

ELLE&

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN DOT.

22

[ACT IL

Jed. Say, Joo, du we set down a t table 'long o' the rest?
Joe. No ; but our bodies are quite as well filled.
Jed. B u t won't he want us to attend table?
Joe. No ; master always likes to have the girls at table, till the
cloth is removed. But I c a n ' t stand here talkin' to you ; 'cause the
old gentleman will be wantin' m e to wait on h i m . Yet ere I leave
these gay and festive scenes, — these halls of dazzling light, — I shall
take the present opportunity to say —
Tom. (without, R. H . ) Joe ! you infernal r a s c a l ! where are y o u ?
Joe. Coming, sir !
[Exit, R. n . 1 E.
Jed. Wait on him ! You can wait on him, if you like ; but I
s h a n ' t . I never was brought u p to wait on anybody b u t myself. I '11
go down in the yard, and play with the big yaller dog, till they ' r e
done dinner. T h a t ' s the curiousest dog I ever did see. — I c a n ' t find
out whether his tail is cut off or driv in.
[Exit, L. H. 1 E.
SCENE I I I . — A Wood, 1 G. —
Enter

JOE, L. n. 1 E., with paper, pencil,

Dark.
bottle,

§c.

Joe. Here I am, a l o n e ! She does not come, and ' t is the hour.
I am in suspense. — I have drinked u p all my liquor. Can she intend
to play me false? If so, all my paper has been wasted, t h a t I have
filled with tender strains to her. All my throbbings have been in
vain. A h ! what do I see ? — the disguise. 'T is she ! — I ' m bless'd.
T h e r e ' s Miss Ellen just now left her. While s h e ' s in t h a t disguise,
I '11 throw off all disguise, and throw myself into her arms. Propitious
m o m e n t ! she comes.
Enter

EDWARD, R. II. 1 E., muffled in a cloak.

And t h u s , my dear Miss Squeamish, I h u g you to my heart. Don't
you feel it beat ?
Ed. I '11 be damned if I do any such thing, Joe. W h y , Joe, did
you take me for Miss Squeamish ?
Joe. Blister my tongue for speaking the name ! — my lips for utter
ing it !
Ed. B u t they did utter it. I heard it.
Joe. She promised to meet me in disguise.
0 , she *s false ! " Come what, come may !
The cat may mew, the dog will have his day."

[Exit,

in rage, L. H. 1 K.

Enter ELLEN, R. II. 1 E.

El. We are near the path t h a t leads to the gate.
Ed. All right. Your a u n t was to have met Joe, in disguise ; and
now she dare n o t mention our elopement. Is there no passage b u t the
gate % front t h a t will take us into the road ?
El. Yes, the one at the corner ; but Ave must pass the gate in front,
unless we can get over a large plat of bushes.
Ed. 0 , hang the bushes ! I '11 find a way through them. I '11 ge
and have the chaise ready.

KSENE I V . ]

THE
Enter

GREEN MOUNTAIN BOT„

23

SANDFIELD, L. II. 1 E.

Sand. How is it I find you here, sir? I have ordered the chaise
home. I a m informed you hired it. You have deceived me.
Ed. I confess it, sir. Forgive me ; love impelled me to the act.
The fear of losing Ellen determined me to hazard everything, even
your displeasure, in securing her.
Sand. Away to your lodgings ! If I need you, I '11 send for you.
You, miss, back to your home !
El. B u t , sir, what right —
Sand. Silence ! I '11 not hear a word !
Ed. I t must be, Ellen. I cannot, I know not why, disobey his
commands.

[Exeunt

ELLEN, L. H. 1 E . , and EDWARD R. H. 1 E .

Sand. Now to meet my brother. H a ! I see ; yonder he is, —
yonder is the villain Wilkins. He thinks himself secure. Ten years
has he moved in splendor ; while I — t cannot bear the thought —
have been a n outcast from home ; my name mentioned not, except
when coupled with infamy ; recorded as a felon ; a price set upon m y
head. B u t we shall meet, a n d my wrongs shall not go unrevenged !
[Exit, R. H. 1 E.
SCENE IV. — Chamber in TOMKINS' House, 3 G. — Tormentor-doors
R. and L., used.— Table and two chairs L. C . — Candles lighted,
wine, fyc, on table. — T O M K I N S and JEDEDIAH discovered.
Tom.
I tell you give m'e some more wine, Jedediah !
Jed. (fillingfor
him). Sartin. Look here, Sir J o n a s , if this wine
upsets your apple-cart i t ' s no fault of mine, you know ; for as long as
you p a y for it, you have a right to get as d r u n k as a sow, if you want
tu. (Brinksfrom
bottle.)
Tom.
To be sure I have ! Why not, you rascal? Drink more ; —
' t i s good ; I imported it myself. (JEDEDIAH drinks.)
What a r e you
doing ?
Jed. Why, I wanted to see if it was all alike. Look here, square,
if we d o n ' t look out we '11 be a pair o' the drunkenest cusses in this
section o' the c o u n t r y — (Knock at door, L. H. 1 E . )
Tom.
Ah ! J e d , see w h o ' s a t the door.
Jed. Yes, I will. ( E x i t , L. II. 1 E., and reenter immediately.)
It 'a
some strange chap, Sir Jonas, wants to see you.
Tom.
Well, why d i d n ' t you show him i n ?
Jed. Why, you see, I d i d n ' t know whether we were a t home to
him, Sir J o n a s , or not.
Tom.
Show him in, you rascal you.
Jed. Yes, I will.
[Exit, L. II. 1 E.
Tom. I wonder who it can be. Some stranger just arrived. Been
tent here by Bustle. I wish he h a d come sooner.
•

Enter SANDFIELD, in cloak, L. H. 1 E.

Sit down, sir. (Aside) I wonder who he is. Jedediah, leave the
room.
Jed. Yes, sir. (Going.)
I wonder who that critter is. He looks
t s mysterious as though h e ' d committed suicide, and d i d n ' t know it.
[Exit, L. H. 1 B

24

THE GKKKN MOUNTAIN BOY.

[ACT

II

Sand. Sir, my visit here is one of business ; riot of pleasure. I am
a man of but few words. L use no ceremony, and expect none. My
name is Sandfield ; yours is Tomkins.
Tom.
Yes, t h a t ' s my name.
Sarui. Not the one your father gave you.
Tom. No, to be sure not ; but how did you know t h a t ? I don't
remember your face.
Sand. You have seen it often enough.
Tom. I never saw it in my life.
Sand. I have been intimate with you, and with your lirother.
Tom. (aside). Strange fellow this.
He '11 persuade me directly
he s a relation of mine. You knew my brother, then?
Sand. And know why he left his native land.
Tom.
Poor James ! he was unfortunate. Where is he now ? Have
you lately seen him ?
Sand. Not two hours ago.
Tom, Is he in this town'{
Sand. He is.
Tom.
Does he not fear detection ?
Sand. He does not. The crime he was accused of his accuser com­
mitted. He is not guilty.
Tom.
Would it were s o ! (Bark of dog without, L. — JEDEDIAH
rushes on c. from
n.)
Jed. Say, square ! t h e r e ' s that there big yaller d o g —
Tom.
Leave the room, sir ! How dare you ? (Drives him off c. D . )
Sand. I repeat, it is so. — He is innocent!
Tom.
I am glad of it ; but l e t ' s talk of something else. I ' m going
to m a r r y my daughter —
Sand. To a villain !
Tom.
No, bless y o u ; to a lord, — a n English nobleman. He is
here in the house now.
Sand. I forbid it.
Tom.
The devil you do ! And by what right, I should like to
know.
Sand. T h a t ' s my business.
;

t

Enter JEDEDIAH, R. H. 1 E.
Jed. Say, squire ! that yaller dog h a s broke his chain, and bit ft
nigger !
Tom.
Get out, you scoundrel ! Begone !
[Exit JED., R. n. 1 E.
My friend, I don't know who you are ; but i t ' s very plain, if you stay
here any longer, we shall not part on very good terms.
Sand. I shall not leave your house till I have finished, and to my
satisfaction, the business which brought me here.
Tom.
Be pleased to make me acquainted with it.
Sand. Hear me, then, sir. — You have driven your b r o t h e r ^ son
from your house ; separated him from a woman he loved, and bestowed
her upon a villain.
Tom.
So so ; some friend of Edward's. And he sent y&u here, didf
he,
defame the character of his lordship — Lord Montague?
Sa?id. No term, however vile, is defamation for the wretch JOB
have just mentioned. See he does not leave the house.

25

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOT.

SCENE V . ]

Tom. I '11 send for liis lordship.
in my presence.
Enter

He shall be confronted with you.

JEDEDIAH, L. H . 1 E .

Jed. Square, your black hen has been and gone and laid a white
egg!
Tom. You impudent scoundrel! dare to interrupt us again, and
I '11 break every bone in your body. (Drives him O / L . H . 1 E . )
Sand. I will not have it so. I have business with him myself. He
it was who caused your brother's ruin. This I can and will prove.
Tom. I cannot believe it.
Sand. I n half an hour let him meet me here. You shall be con­
cealed, hear our conversation, and yourself escape a deep-laid scheme
of villainy.
Tom. It shall be so. Here, Jedediah ! I f it is so I shall be very
much obliged to you for your information ; and any service I can ren­
der you, name it, a n d ' t is done.
Sand. Show me to a room where I may be quiet and alone. I have
Writing to do.
Tom. This way, sir.
[Exeunt, R. H. 1 E. — Clear stage.
SCENE

V.

Chamber

in

TOMKINS' House,

2 O. — C.

doors,

practicable.
Enter

TOMKINS and W I L K I N S , R. H . 1 E.

Wil. Inquiring for me. Did he not give his name ?
Tom. He did — Sandfield.
Wil. I do not know him. There must be some mistake.
ever, if he calls again —
Tom. He is now here, in the house.
Enter

How­

M C N A B , L. H. 1 E .

McNab.
Gentlemen, how de do? Which is the master of thin
house ?
Tom. I am, sir.
McN.
Then I don't want anything to do with the likes of you.
(Crosses to R. H . )
Wil. (aside). McNab ! Ah ! he recognizes me. I am lost, unless
a bribe can save me !
McN.
So, so ! I am not deceived.
Wil. (aside to him). McNab, ' t i s useless to deny my identity.—
You know me ; but yet let me escape, and two thousand dollars are
yours.
McN.
Hand it over, and I '11 clear you.
Wil. I am to marry Tomkins' daughter. Wait till the ceremony
is over ; then I touch, and so shall you. Why do you hesitate?
McN.
Because there is a little bit of doubt about the security. If
he will become responsible for the surety —
Wil. B e quiet You will ruin all.
'McN.
Be azy. ( T o TOMKINS) This gentleman says he is going to
marry your daughter.
Tom. His lordship, there ? yes, he \&
3

26

THE

GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

[ACT I I .

McN.
IIif lordship ! Yes — och, bother ! t h a t ' s true. A t a n y
r a t e h e ' s goin' to be your son-in-law, you w o n ' t object to p u t y o u r
name to a bit of paper for him ?
Tom.
I '11 p u t m y name to anything, for his lordship. I '11 step
and get a pen and ink —
McN.
No matter ; I have a bit o' one here in my pocket.
Tom. (writes on top of McNAB'S hat). There.
McN.
B u t I want a bit of a witness.
Tom.
Here, Jedediah !
Enter

JEDEDIAH, L. H. 1 E.

9

Jed. W h a t a t h e row, Sir Jonas?
Tow. Here, Jedediah, I w a n t you as a witnesf to my signature.
Jed. How do I know y o u writ it ?
Tom.
I tell you I did, a n d t h a t ' s enough.
Jed. Wal, then I '11 d u i t ; b u t if I get in a~y scrape,, you got t u
back me, you know. ( Writes with a flourish.^ There, I guess a n y ­
body can read t h a t without a telescope.
[Exit, L. H. 1 E.
McN.
Now i t ' s all right. What '111 do ner\t
Wil. G o !
Tom.
I '11 let you out. The door is locked. This way.
[Exeunt

TOMKINS and M C N A B , C. I>.

Wil. As things a r e now, m y only chance is to fly while I have t h e
power to escape. I dare not meet this Sandfield. I never heard the
name before ; y e t I fear it.
Enter

Jed.
Wil.
Jed.
Wil.
Jed.
Wil.
Jed.

JEDEDIAH, L. H. 1 r

W h e r e ' s the squire gone ?
I d o n ' t know.
W h a t ' s t h e reason?
F o o l ! find out —
B y m y l a r n i n ' , a s we say u p home.
Leave t h e room. Would you have me t d l yoi* all I know T
Guess ' t w o u l d n ' t take you long to do t h a t , would it ?
Enter

SANDFIELD, wrapped

in cloak, B . H. 1 E.

Sand, (touching JEDEDIAH on shoulder).
Young m a n , go about
y o u r business.
Jed. I have n ' t got none to do.
Sand. Take this letter. — Deliver it to its address. ( Gives letter.
Jed'. Yes, I will. (Looking at them aside) T h e r e ' s t h u n d e r b j *
ing somewhere. I '11 go a n d get m y fighting clothes, a n d be on h a
when t h e row commences.
[Exit, L. H. 1 *
Sand. S i r , I would speak with you.
Wil. Well, sir. (Aside) M e r s t o n ! A l l ' s l o s t .
Sand. Do you know me ?
Wil. I do not. (Aside) I m a y escape.
Sand. ' T is time you should. Look there, sir. (Shows a printed
handbill.)
You a r e this s c o u n d r e l !
Wil. Sir ! I —
Sand. You have heard the name of Merston ?
>

BCEKE V . ]

27

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

Wil. I do not itmember it, sir. I *11 go and search among my
iist of cards, sir. Perhaps —
Sand. Perhaps, villain! I '11 freshen your memory. You are.
known to me, and your deeds. Merston ! — disgrace and infamy were
brought upon him by you ! 'T was you who under the mask of friend­
ship first seduced him to the gaming-table ; and he was there soon
stripped of his fortune, and largely involved in debts of honor, with
villains for his creditors ! When your share of the spoil was spent in
dissipation, or lost again among the sharpers of your gang, you forged
a draft upon a banking house, promising a loan on receiving it. He
believed it true ; and his necessities, the effect of your arts, compelled
him to accept the proffered assistance.
Wil. Well, sir, what's this to me?
Sand. The forgery was detected ; — lie arrested and imprisoned.
You appeared against him in evidence ; — perjured villain ! your
words convicted him !
Wil. Whoever you may be, sir, you must be aware —
Sand. I have not done. In my possession are documents to prove
your share of the transaction. I have crossed the ocean, and have
come from the Indies to establish his innocence, — to free my friend
from the foul stain stamped by you upon his name ! — to publish to
the world your character ; and when found, to give you up to justice.
I am aware, sir, of your designs here, and shall prevent them.
Wil. Should he disclose I Sir, you are mistaken. My surprise
was so great I did not before interrupt you. I am not the person you
suppose. I forgive the mistaken zeal.
Sand. Wilkins, 't is in vain. If you have forgotten me, I have not
forgotten you. You are so imprinted on my memory time cannot
efface the recollection. I have followed you here. Ten years have I ,
with an almost frenzied heart, waited the arrival of an hour like this ;
and when I have thought of the home I left, madly I have cried for
vengeance. 'T is come ! — I am Merston ! (Throws aside cloak.)
Wil. Merston ! Have care ! — I am soon to be united to one of
.this family. Go, while you are free ! If you longer stay, to cross
my purpose, I '11 denounce you as a fugitive from justice, ( i to L. H.)
Sand. I will not leave you. (Detaining
him.)
Wil. (aside). I cannot force by threats ; I must bribe him. I re­
ceive my intended bride's fortune, thirty thousand dollars, on a y
wedding day. Keep this secret till then, half of it shall be yours.
Sand. No ; I have not poverty—that finger-post to vice — to urge
me. When the father of the girl, whom you intended to sr^uce from
home and happiness, to be the companion of a villain, shouM know it,
what would be his language to me ? He is my brother !
WiL Suffer me to fly ! (Aside) Death and furies
Sand. No, you stir not hence ! I say no !
1

Enter TOMKINS, C , and down c.
Tom. I say no, too. You are a pretty rascal! Broth«r ! What
have you to say for yourself?
WiL, L. Nothing; if he has charges against me, let him jpov*
t h e m in a court of justice-.

28

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOY.

[>ACT I I .

Sand. Yes ; 't is easily done. He has but now escaped from prison.
This paper I hold in my hand is evidence of that fact.
Tom.
'Tis all true. Brother, I am ashamed of myself. I can
hardly look you in the face. You infernal rascal! how dare you ?
But I shall not waste my breath talking to you. And N e d ; I turned
him out of my house I
Sand. Edward has been sent for, who as yet knows me not as his
father.
Enter M C N A B , c.,and down L. C.
McN.
I have been listenin' at the door. So you have found out
my friend there. I suppose I may take him to his friends now.
Tom.
Take him where you please, s o ' t is out of my sight. — I care
not. Why did you deceive me ?
McN.
He promised to pay me for i t ; and in default he stands com­
mitted. (Crosses to L. n.) Come along.
[Exit, with WILKINS, L. H, 1 R
Enter JEDEDIAH, L. H. 1 E.
Jed. Edward's coming up like a loon's leg, Sir Jonas.
Tom.
Don't call me Sir Jonas !
Jed. Why, did n't you say you was fond of titles?
Tom.
Titles be damned I I wish I ' d never heard of such a thing.
Enter

EDWARD and

ELLEN, L. H. 1 E.

Tom.
How dare you come before me, sir ? — with an accomplice,
too ? You are a pretty couple !
Ed. Uncle, consider.
Enter JOE SKAKSPEABE and, Miss SQUEAMISH, C D .
Tom.
Consider ! Ah, you young rogue ! You deceitful little Gypsey ! But I forgive you. There, Ned, there's Ellen ; and now ask
your father if he likes the match.
Ed. My father I What mean you ? — is he my father ?
{Embrace,
and all retire up.)
Jed. Wal, if things ain't goin' on funny, in this house, I '11 give up.
(Turns and sees JOE and Miss S.) Hello ! here's another arrange­
ment. I wonder what critter that is with Joe. I '11 see.
{Brings
them down, B . H . )
Joe. I publish it. — This is Mrs. Shakspeare that is to be.
El., L. 0 a u n t ! fie ! I hate the men I
Tom.
Why, can I believe my eyes ? I am not the only fool in the
play, then, after alb
Joe. No, I guess you ain't, Sir Jonas !
Tom.
Don't call me Sir Jonas, or anything again that sounds like
title. At the next session of Parliament — damn Parliament — I mean
next Court, my name shall be changed back again. Brother, sister,
nephew, daughter, Joe, you may all get married in a lump ; and I '11
make a nursery of every room in my house. I don't care how soon
I ' m a grandfather.
Joe. Will you go to church, and say yes?
MUs S. Don't ask me, Mr. Shakspeare. Have everything your

BCEXB V . ]

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN EOT.

29

own way. I have lived fifty years single, and had a will of my own
If I live fifty years more —
Jed, You '11 be a hundred, by DabolPs arithmetic.
Tom.
Marry her, and I '11 give you a farm.
Jed. Sir Jonas, you must give 'em good title-deeds.
Tom.
Damn your titles ! Jed, say no more.
Jed. Only one thing more, square. — As I ' m now about to leave
your employ, I may want a character, you know ; and so I thought
I M just ask the good folks here, after what has passed to-night, if
t h e y ' d have any objection to give their recommendation to the Green
Mountain Boy.
SITUATIONS.
JEDEDIAH.

OTBTAIM.

SA^I

(Catalog: corJSnued from, second page of cower.)
VOL. XXX
2
The Pirate's Legacy 1320 Ticket of Leave 3f.*n
p22 The C.*arc©*X Bttraert 330 tool's Kcveage
331 G'STeiS she Great
Ad&lgltha
13235 Haady Andy
b 2 Seaer Valieax*
S4
^ SS3 Pirate of the X*Sea
B25 forest Bo*>
1334 Faachos.
r52S Xhxlee's 3>«X5GISTER
•$27 Camilla"* Btiabaad I 335 Little Barefoot
|3Se Wi^IrwJiOirJ
«S2S Pure Oold

VOL. XLIIL
;
VOL,
337 Pearl of Savoy
~~ ~ * ~ ' —
33$ 2>oad Keart
T34$ Chiaiaey Coracr
S S Tea Nishta in a Barroom i 34? Pifteea Years of a&rwxfc.
3>
5*0 Dasab Boy of Maachester i 348 No Th^roaghfaro f«r<r*
341 BeIphegori^Mc^*cbaa)c' 34$ Peep O* Day
1 Life
342 CricXetoa the Beanh
< $50 2*«ryfco*2y"* Friend*
543 Printer'«I>cv£i
; 13a.»3e«. ia Three Acs*
SI* Sleg** Divcrsioa
. Cattle & GaJpit

' 2£ASS.ST*S E X H Q I T r O X BBCITBB
22308 OF-12AT SSCTEBT 03* S H A D O W
AX2> I>aAWIKG-^002C
BXTSPvPA2vT02s£X3£BS; or,Har.ec.aia. iatheShades.
!
TAI2C3S;E..'VTS. Being choice Kecitat.oa» J»
How t > set themap asd how to act theax. With
<
|
prossc aa<i verso, To^taervrj^iaa tissue eoiI«o*
foil aad. cotsciflc iautractioas. aad aamerotts IlStastratSoa*. By TOSTY Dxxxaa. Enrico.
£y ; tioa of Pe*ito Coaw^Se*, X>ra.taa» aad Fsroea,
; adapted for tho c»c of Sckooia; axui ^aaa.^os. Two
P A S I f O S t T A B L E A U X ; or, AftSmateS Pic­
\ nuraVrs
per aaiabor. *0
tures, for the ase of Families, School*, aad Public
T Tie two aiisaixirs. bo&ad in cloth, School style.,... 1
Ebchlbitioas. 2y Tosrv I>.orxxsa. Price
25
J T H 2 OI.XO: or Speaker's Corapaa.ots. A cotA ^ A T X v B ' S GKTIXXS TOHOSCS ^ K E < JectJoa of Keei^t.oa» ia 2>roso a»d Vcr*o,
ATB.ICAX.S. How to get them a p. aad Sow to
1 Josaes aad B«r:e»qiies,eosa?s;e4 for the tiae o?
act la. them; to which U added, « Sow to get sp
J Seboots, Tbcs*>iaa. Societies, etc, aa<i for 3?u&t.c
Theatrical* a Country Kosae." with By- Cava,
Deciamaiioaor i^ca^ia^ Xatasoc j>art*...eacX
^elected Sceao*. Play*, aa,*. cverythiag axefai for
the iaformatioa of aaaatear aoc.eties. Price,.,., £3 ! I>33,ASIA3 FOJa TX-XE S E A W ^ G .
: xtOOISil. By
KSATIXO. TWO j>arta, caci. 40
THB
TO TH23 STAGS:, BY LS;«A»
I P I . A T S FOX*
PAStl.CE.. By Miw
T«0WEA5 XKS&S. CoitvtaSaisgc.e^raad fa:: dircctiea* for obtas»£&!£ Theatrical Kasasjcxaeat*, with
i KXATiXO. Two parts
...«.„.«.« each, 40
complete aa&vaiaahJo hutractloas for hesiaacra,
I A C T I X O CHA2tAT>2SS. By SI^w P s c s x s relative to Varies, rales, asaaacy of goJa?: through
;
JXO
40 •
Be&srarxais. ?:ccsr}a«r j>roj>er Dresses, coaduct ax a
: COlSttlC D E A X A S , for C<£k?eCaavs>. or Ca^ia
fir*tappc&raiice. ^&e„ &c. J*rlco
ii
<3IAK5Chiwaciera ojxly ,,foar part»,.,.......each, 40
T H S A 3 : T O P A C T I N G : or, Galde to tio : * 2>3l A K A S FOX* B O Y S < Jtota CbAracter* oaJr).
S t a ^ la wbioh tSw Drasaatic 2*ass.O3* are < < d ?'
• byxua :CsjATj^a..,........
40
2»e*i. a»*LYKCD, &TS4 3 A V< exsy of acquJreraeat;
S A :r
SCOXCB
F O I ^ LAX5ZSS {Fettle
ftiso tae re^n»i»it«» i>ecesa«j.ry for*jxjrforsaerx of &otli
Characters oaly;, eoaap'jet^ laree parts.... eaofc,
*ex«-s, b»*roe-s, s&atiesxwra. .overs, tradesrsaet,,
;
CO ^ S Jsero5u«s», aae :rvd:ea, boylcxt*. cbaraeters
J WJ,
AX EV^XI^T^S ^T^TAIXXC3CSTT.
of jKi£4i© aa<i o:d, ajc^etc, Prioo*.
aa origiaa* Coa.edy, a Burlcseae aad Paroe..».«.4<S
,

;

%

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T H I O P I A X

X

B E A M A.

$ Toja S K Jerry, aa4, Wao*»: 3S Tea I>ay* x.
UI
^the Toxah* It> l>e*erters
been Hero
14 Two Pompey*:
20 5»eaf oaa Po*t
9 3Jo Tator, orXaa Pi«h
15 S»t»»-s.^tho BJocitaie ; 21 Dead. Alive
:0 W&o Stole tb« ChieJcea* 16 J«xa.es the Poet
s 22 Coa»ia Joe's VSaU
IT lateliiaeoce Office
, 23 Eoardia^ School
IS tapper Tea Tbouaaad
IS Echo Baa4
f 2* Acadeaxy of Star*
12 *Si? Vat. Wlai:o

1 BS*»&s aad Jiaiat
S Lacfcy ^aaaher
S SOKWbody's Coat
4 TriptoPark
$ Arrival of X>iekea*
« BlacSc 01« BcH
7 BIacfce»t Tragedy of All

aro.
f IT Tae Ma«Sc Feaay
3?0.
5 2*0.
1 Eobcrt iJa5c«-ASr«
' IS The WrecJj ; ay Capitis' 33 Eyt>ocaoadrlao
* Box xa& Cox
1 4$ P&htiSjg; for the XTaioA
;
Oh Hash: orTheVirgJa«' 34 Wi.liftsa ToU
S SEaieeppa
> 4$ Baralet the Daiaty
! 20 The Portrait paiater
* UaSiedir-tatcaMaiS
35 Bose Dale
( 50 Cor«ieaa Twix*
l 21 The Hop of Fauhioa
5 T&eC<r>oper»
36 Feast
151 Deaf— sa a Hora
? 22 Bo&C S<jca*h
e Oid»a^'aCao£t>,
3? Peaian Spy
; 52 Cha.5ea,w Daaee
2S The VlririaJaMaaway $S Joe 5c'»the L*d
? The Eival Ivovcrss
< 5S De Tr oahie begia* »« > iae
; 2-t Thieve* at the ifJU
* The Sham 2>ocSor
Othe:*o
' 54 Sceaea at Curacy'*
; 2T Cotae4y of Error*
$ Jolly filler!*
<0 Caraille
^ 55 l O O Year* Aj?o
&O
50 V'JUXi as aad hi* .Siaah Si. Le« M iaerabicj*
>tl Xohody»Soa
; 59 Sta^e-»trac2. X>arlcey
51 TheQaacJt doctor
Xew Ye.«r*» Calls
4'i Sports oa a Larfc
; 5? Slack XaiJ
; Ck»the«
12 The &y&tie Spe^i
> 2$ Tro^^Iesosao ikn'ant <Z Actor
Sia^er
; 3$ Highest Price for Of5
S3 The B:&c& Statao
^ <?reat Arrival
44 Shvloek
3S How 1» from the Ow: Traia
^5 Qaarrei^^me Servaatx ; $0 OM HotJ.<a
J4 Uticlo Jeff
S() ItootR* to Let
Kaaatcd Koase
61 The Three BJack Saiith»
% The MiacMerott* Ni^scr, SI B.ack Croo>< Bartcwjae:
$
•47 KoCurc, JCe^ay
• ©2 Tcritey» ia Se*«>a
1$ The Biacsi Shoem*ker ' 3£ Ticket Taker
,
J

y

:

1

r

Xo^7 Derder's Parlor ?ant02airaes.~~In Ten Parts, 2 5 Cts. eaclx.
2T o I.—A Xy;*ior& ot TWOS A ^TKOX. By Sylvester
J <.
Blocker.
How TO Eacs»s«j»» r x i VAarova
? A S » » w . ACTION*t,e?c Tf<K Fctrsi Lovx^s; or,
I*A SivaJes' Stea^e»vo«». TKS PKJMCV C03i»2JK»;
or. The S.iva: Arti*a&s.
2?o, XI.'—TKX Jiystx A*«» p3S<oc-Ji^3 or PA>'T*V3KXS.
TKK SotOOi.MASRX.ri ; or the Schoo. la a* XTproar.
B*x&s. or ASA»s«o; or. a Muleteer"» Bride, L A
STAWK JBJW.'SCHX; cr, The Lovers* Stratagesa.
2STo.
J>3BCKA5XRWARAC: or. The Birthday
S?ete» T C Dxssov LOVK«;.or, The Frightened
5&
Faaaily.
MACAXSK ; or, Lea^eux PagittS*.
2fo» P7.-~J0C3£0 TKI-i BRAXTRXAA- A3*x; or. The
5&$chierowtf 3»o*l<ey. THK Coyac)R«Mr; or, Kowto
Avoid the Draft, TKK MACJC I ' J . W S ; or, The iSasJciaa"s Speli.

2?o. *V»-~T«« VIVA>'»:i?K!K: or. The X>aa^Jitcr of tho
•v-i&e^iiaaisat. X>AX*:TX^OT AX»K«T{ CO..UCAI. CAT;
or, The X^sforteacs of Johaay Greetxe2 T . VI.—Oom:^S3cr; or. The Skaters of wiia**.
So
i i f ^ « : £ S C K A W « ) K < a ^ ; or, The V."etches' Olft,
: ^ o ; f ^ ! ^ ; ^ K « SOX^XKR rws Lov«: or, A Hero la *
Spite of Sisa«c2f. Sxas•iso^f'» XSSKA?«; or, The
Baosariaa Eeadezvotia.
2?o. VIII.—THK VIXXAOJC GHOST; or. Love aad;
SSasrder hoth Poaad 0«t, THS: FAift^" F&oiic;
or, ThcCoo< Wife is Three ^'Jshca,
:;Ko;;2Xi:~-TJSK Sossc Car SKA»ON ; or, The JJa-ixioScy
Fisheraxm. Pov<50, T K « I^XXWUCCKSPT Ayx, aatf.
the Uaforta;aate Overseer.
3STo. X.^~iIoaa. TOXT^XT TKK DA^CIVO BAK.»S^ ;
or, Love a*.d Lather. ' VOX. At? VXXT AK» TXJK
•• Xxz&sm; «r> A Night*.; ADVCAtares

BA2AUEL
Aay of the ahove scat hy Mail or Sxpres*, oa receipt of price,

:

P S S ^ C H ,

PUBLISHER,

X « 2 Xa»saa Street

STA2OS^>

.23^ X.sw ASX> .toxxen^ D^txnixt^nva CATALOGTTS Mailed Free ox BBor.s.sr.

FRE-NOH'S •M I N O R DRAMA.,
Price-15- C e n t s eadfcu~Bo*m& V o l u s a « s $1.25;-

YOL-X.
J
VOX*. XIX,
<
VOL. XXVXI2.
75 IroJaa<£ *a£ Amerte* VtS Ccfcwa&o*
iri7--Cr.aoI.ao
7* ?rttty ?ic<J<? of SAJ&ww* X4€ Har.eoai* SSs<>o«.r£ 2lS A Family FallSag
75 Ir^*3roo^»xaaker
1*7 Lfcd.es at Koxao
'259 Adopted Cis&S
76 To P*rLs »a<i Back for'148 P£caoiseaoa.a»$:&oek 222 Tar&«d Heatf*
Frock
:22l A &ate2. .A t5;EX>A?.K
77 Taat Slewcc" .5*5>y
•KOCoaxedy aa£ TwwwSy
7$ Oar Oal
.253 S.ASMMW Tvris*
1 X X>atcbj«ia&'» <jfcosi
H
7t? Swiss Co'tase
IS2 rersseeatcd Dutc&ecas 22* Scat to tJso Tow?
80 Vouag 7*i$irr
.„
VOL. XX.
vox.. xxxx
VOL. XI.
51 O'FllaaaxSaa aad t&e r&« .755 Sfasard Bail
'22$SoKsAS>0'6y ISJse
asirxskFos;
'rio* 1 ^ Crcat Tragic ivcrJrai ,220 Lakes'
.
II Tae JsCfch Tutor
&Z s:en-&bor"a Tlf«
L&
Low Jack A; Gzxxc 22$ TSxo Actixttf
-227 Art of Lady artlw LJosa
• 12 Ti» barrack Sooa*
&4 Iryda Tij^rr
.150 A i&nztlvx.s.zt froja Xro. 22$ T^«r ytifiia* <ft
IS Lake ta« Ls&orer
> > ? . ? „ or
>
*«d Tiscr U7 Toss attd JTwy
;
:£» 5ry Sw.bw&'l * CTt»«t
1* 3<?s.«:y »a<* Use Bsttxfc
1^3 Villas Lawyer
^....^w Ca>i r»;sy
t5x*t
ST Stat* Secret*
•ISO Amtears ««i Ac^ra
t52 ?i^t;&g; !>y frosty
XSC&^AOF I&?^AT<&
$$ XrUa Yaak*«
f ii
VOL, XXL
VOL. XXX.
VOL.
< X7T7SE SECRET of_t&s:R>*RS S3 A <*o*£ Fellow
_ i*e;>~
- JS VT&te Horse
1^2 A Fa.sci3ia.tiss isi<l.vi<i-'234 ?cs of tisc y^ticosia
> Ciserry -as.^ Fair S
7& TM » aeoKw
j;03 s^rs. CA»<i:e
-235 F^rty »»& S";rty ; >ooS:
,
Calc- Srecxcly
: 20"T^*Boti:e
i$4ShcS:»3?< areaSream
^230 WLo $toi<? tio 2?ock«: Oar Jora;?Ky
. s:; Sox
C«
yej>iuu*'» ^cf<»«
-2^ 3fy Soa
;.t.oa,
^%iI>>r*v>:A^
25 BA.'XII'OO^.ir..:
La<iv < f ZJcic^s-raVrr
^
23$ Ua^ct'r&at^e tstrji: J . Awl?war*i Arr^ftS
M
•i€7 Ta^o Card o7 L5«i; 2 S Sir.
3»
>Jr», Wli.t!j
; i?5 Crwsi»s s)ve L><*
; S^Coaisa;*: L<s»oa
VOL. IV.
VOL. XX:L
^OL. XXXL
VOL. xin.
2$ Secret Borvico
^CS Tarskw Fcd>liscr
Coo! as Ct?«vr-c^r
07 Xy Vv'.^'* Mirror
;70 Kiraax JT;rp<nat
Th^^i^s
32 L.f<? :a Xew Yori,
s7 Irfca Li<«i
'*l7l Double-Xe&Jc& Soora ;2*U^a^o J*«;ja
; t D MKiCy Aab&re
>
: 2GJSSU<i of CroI«sy
*,*'2
I>rasr.a ^cfoOei
A ^L^a^i 3 * ' ^
100 Crowa ^risc*
7:iio 0 ^ Osivrd
;73 Vcrxtioat Wov; :>c«titfr
* ofi«lIe«i*ia
' .07 7 w > Qawa*
"<
•.;7* >:?ycaerc*r Yraaw ; t*r 2^0 A Lover ^y 3?r«sy /
s 31 ^Lststser
CrswiJicr
;

2£ooaati&*SW*»
Ho* t » pay tfce 2.ea4
4 T25>Lo»» of * X»oy*r
5 Ta* X><K«1 Saot
< H-i* L**t
&
7 Tao
? r3< J
*t ; M
S Taa Oo.tfca Fsoacr :
VOL. II.

;

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j?«rp:*xi»S Jw^Mwja;
VOL. XXITt.
VOL.XXXZI.
777 ;.7?i<. RX>jrs
X>r. ^il-jportsi
I7,? Bsracy 0<s Batos
' 50 Out to >'ars*

10>4 Hoasc 2o#
TC?-. V.
VOL. XIV.
; 5S <JO«J^J}<S5 ixx Ca-Iiforaist i
" T t S>o&k» First
V S*

:<

!

2

;07 7ti r^sd Out of ^I;
,
iCaci>et& Tt»vc#S«
IJUSO::; ^Bs.<ie:<ir'*iicero6m
^52 T&e Dodger
, ?-7 7r'.*& AXKBSTONA^cr
1*1 A I^oXTsd f^r aa OLv<rr
3£«<»AMKN. c3&wr-«w<sa»>
• S$ 7>elioa%5 OrouaS
1S2 More S^sdvr* tiaaa 03*
S f ^ . 2Je.a^oa - - & TS.O W^atis^rcoci IOoi<l I.O Andy SiaXo
>
,112 X.;oa.a».<i« «s«Jtor .yiaculVOL. VI,
.M**™**™****
VOL.XX7V.
i
VOL. XXXIZI.
C Orts&a^w, S*g*iiaw »»<J
VOL. XV.
:S5 y*t«ro «sxA ^Io»o5>hy 257 20 ^i»'st«s with «T^«r
- -*
715 Oa<» Co>^t for ^ S»;ta
-X^ T«<ty:y the Tiler
23$ X l r a ^ or, tiw Justi««
of-Tacoa
i:*A5>c«^C«sc
137 Spectre S r ^ o o a x
<4J Eow<g;J. J>I3SI«j<t
A Soldier'.* Coart*^
^
j»*V5T^^tcoF&l<Joao
•:260 S^rvaatas oy r . ^ c j
«t
O? M X
oV K I
t
:
f
I1CKo; or,ti»<7*oriW
v^^^ j ^ f
;2S1 X>yia& for Lov*
<i4 Two Soaay«*»t.t«*
-2§S AiarsaJ^ $acr^c*
4& Bora to Ooo4 L«*.s
r J*S Lov<? in, KanKo Lif* •Z9X H»^?y M«a
S«
vj*
*265Va:.>t
'7'i2 Uct&y Siuscr
«6 Kis*la «J»* »*rk ;i«r«r
*55i yicaoiW K ^ * ^ y
*7 ' T v o ^ ywacl " N Coa* i:9F*?a^y Jar*
'OL. XXV.
^3 Kilt or Care
X20 Pcr»oaa;;oa
,2S*o. 1 Sottsd'siie Cursor;
VOL. XXXr?%
VOL. VI7.
I
VOL. XVL .
. ' ^ Xiag 7,cn<r'» 7>aa^t.sr
4$ Box aa« Cox.VSarr*c4.121 Cbl^rca tJic ^006 10* 0>i<>ct of Jatwca*
^23 Day after tic Fair
:X Mr J^c'.lo^ Cleric
0~o"« > 7«T^»
-124 itaKe YOvtr
lA-wy«>r»
Jack $h<c?>?*>?Z
:iw r^us:a:i!M5 ^rca&
'"^ A
f ^
72&2iy ^.'e's Has&.w.&
54 T2iC Too<.<?«
in TSflV:«<wr Vaii<ja5?^«s<: ~ P ?A*<?c y«c*aai.«v
•271 Sevoiatioaary .r-ot^^r
X27 ai*>as^ar Toasoc
-00 OarTTifo
^* ^««*'*»*-AMW xo^far
,272 A iTaa ^Vi'Aoat a HeaC
' 123 Xiivstr.oas Straagra
La<2^ 5k-w*rc
VOL. XXVL
VOL. XXXV.
VOL, xvx;
VOL. VIII.
2</7 5fy l^f oaad'* ^.rrwr •
273 Tic Olio, ?ar.X
120 Xl<«ch:.*f.JCaJdas lilacs 302 Yaaltc«
,274 TSe Olio, ?*r 2
,13d A Live *A'oasaa la tir 2 S XorabCre^aa
O
ab
55 Pop
tit« <^xs<*aSJoc
T3» Olio. ?*5T .31 Ta^ Corsa$r
204 Oood for Xothla^
as a i»<w$
- 27« Ts<* Tntfrajw-wr* * Atv^i
.!32S^yioc2e
20.> Tbe F>»t Xiijat
Xcvr Foowssaa
'277 iie<'ia« %.'ftrwa
.133 Spoiled CblM
The Iltoa 3oy
fti J'liraaax.c yc'.^bw
27.*f G-wea 3d oaatala Boy
,207 'Vi'aadcria,!; Ji.astre:
13$ STctb-AA to y»r*«
55 Briaa O" Liaa
,20$ ^ a a t ^ 1000 XtXliacr* '270 Tisat Xowo
:2S0 Tom S o n y ' s Secret
:
VOL. XXVXX,
1SS Waate<. a wiiow
<54 2ri«a Awsarswao©
VOL. XXXVI..
VOL, XX.
I
VOL. XV2IL
20SPoor Tilcv^S?
_
.
ft^,
S5 Tosssptatloa
137 Loticry Ticket
210 Ti© Xasaxay .Obase*:^ ? ^ * ^ J S j « 4 4 ,
W Zx&tXr Cs.r«y
2X1 X>oa'iFor*etyo»r (fret* ^ « « 5 S ^ f l 4 ; R '
1SS Portaae** Frolic
2X2 Love ia Li very
2SSX71C& £'.T->R^*
$7 Two <^r^?or.««
5X5 Aatlwwcr a»i Cleo^atrs. 23* Yocag
M.WT:<S5 ^.VCACIOR
2X< TtyJaic It 0».
««ME A**? ^
,1*1 Husoaad at SS^ai
CslJ at No. I~
2X5 Stajj« Jjtrcck Taake*
;i<2 ART^saaa la LOA<JOA
70ClocX»a.K<?r'* Hs*
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VOL. xxxvn.

2.^SU^O'SV*l

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C«REFOR tbo
-'SM C<n»>Ia Faaa;^
SOT JtMrV»t3wL»d
:3l5^T-st&^X>ARX:**tHoariS>O» ;
30S MACS A<Soa>Ottty*>4S.5asr'K.ft Xwwrsdc -7<>i» J>*wa '
303 ArtfalX>O<.K'-r
'3X7 Crowa'.n^tbfe^XAOA
• «;0 V^aalajf E « d [
>2l* 0o<A >":^t>» » « t
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SAXXJISL FS&XCH & SO>\ I T Xasj^s?
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XAM- 5FOSAE.

Colophon
This preservation facsimile was produced through the
cooperative efforts of the Preservation
Department
and the Facilities & Services Printing Department at
the University of Illinois, Urbana-Champaign.
The
text from the original brittle book was
digitally
scanned and printed on acid-free permanent paper in
accordance with the ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992 paper
standard.