THE ROBERT E. COWftN COLLECTION 
 
 PRKSKNTED TO THE 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CHUFORNIfl W 
 
 C. P. HUNTINGTON 
 
 dUNE, 1897. 
 
 Recession No ^2/^y Class No.^T ' 7^ 
 
 
 University of California Berkeley 
 
 
REV. DR. HORATIO STEBBINS, of San Francisco, writes: 
 "Mr. Sumner's journey was through a land comparatively 
 me more than usual European journeys. The narrative has a r 
 longed to the company as a specially favored travelling companio 
 
 RIUHT REV. WM. INGRAHAM KIP, Bishop of California, TV 
 
 "An entertaining book on Northern Europe. It is a part 
 our millionaires would study Mr. Sumner's account of the public 
 "I hope we have not lost Mr. Sumner to California." 
 
 GOOD HEALTH, a monthly 
 published at Battle Creek, 
 Michigan, says: 
 
 "Books of travel are al- 
 most numberless, but we 
 have seldom perused a more 
 pleasing volume then Sum- 
 ner's 'Notes of Travel in 
 Northern Europe.' The 
 scenes of the sketches are 
 nearly all in Sweden; and 
 while the descriptions of 
 places are line, the accounts 
 of the manners and customs 
 of the people and their pub- 
 lic institutions are so vivid 
 and interesting that one 
 feels, while reading them, 
 as if he, too, \yere taking 
 a real bona Jtde journey 
 through Northern Europe. 
 The book is profusely illus- 
 trated with views, portraits, 
 maps and plans, engraved 
 expressly for the work." 
 
 HENRY GEORGE, the re- 
 nowned author of "Pro- 
 gress and Poverty," says 
 in a recent communication 
 

DEPRECIATION 
 
 A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS. 
 
 PLACE, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL. : TIME, 1863 AND 1864, 
 
 BY DjE 
 r>. E. Ai>F>ju:EToisr <sc oo. T 
 
 : 7< v' and 5 10 Montgomery Street, San Francisco, 
 
 Publishers of "Appleton's Reciter," 
 
 Containing-: Sharnus O'Brien The Vagabonds Flynn of Virginia 
 
 Beautiful Snow Bingt-n on the Rhine Sheridan's Ride Gray's 
 
 Elegy The Raven Barbara Frietchie- Bridge nf Sighs, 
 
 and numerous others of equal merit. 
 
 Stoxit oaa. rooeijDt of DPrico, 2S 
 
 FRANCIS, VALENTINE & Co., PRINTERS, 517 CLAY ST. AND 514 COMMERCIAL ST 
 December, 1864. 
 
DEPEECIATION 
 
 A PLAY IN FOUR ACTS. 
 
 PLACE, SAN FRANCISCO, CAL, : TIME, 1863 AND 1864, 
 
 BY DE CHADO. 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO : 
 
 FRANCIS, VALENTINE & Co., PRINTERS, 517 CLAY ST. AND 514 COMMERCIAL ST. 
 
 December, 1861. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress in the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred 
 and sixty-four, 
 
 BY CHARLES A. SttMNER, 
 
 in the Clerk's Office of the District Court, (U. S.,) First District of the State of Nevada. 
 
DRAMATIS PERSONS. 
 
 ALFRED BRYAN, a stock broker. 
 
 HENRY BRYAN, elder (bachelor) brother of Alfred, very much inter- 
 ested in his brother's family. 
 
 ISAAC CURAL, an elderly gentleman, retired from business, with repu- 
 tation for wealth and respectability. 
 
 ARTHUR HASSARD, a young Lieut, of the California Volunteers. 
 MRS. ALFRED BRYAN. 
 
 MRS. COUCHING, an English woman, recently from Australia. 
 
 JANE MALLON, ) 
 
 BRIDGET BURNS, x servants in the house of Bryan. 
 
 PATRICK DURKINS, ) 
 
 MARGARET MAGARAGEL. 
 
 Brokers, Sharps and Flats, Policemen, etc. 
 
THIS PLAT IS INSCRIBED 
 
 BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 TO HIS FRIEND, A TRUE ARTIST AS ACTOR AND DRAMATIST, 
 
 JOHN BEOUGHAM, ESQ., 
 
 OF NEW-YORK CITY. 
 
DEPRECIATION. 
 
 ACT I. 
 
 SCENE 1 San Francisco : a parlor, plainly furnished. 
 Enter LAURA. BRYAN, dressed for School, with satchel on her arm. 
 
 Laura "Why, where is Mama ? Dear me ! I believe she has gone off 
 to the store already ; and I meant to have asked her, before she went, 
 to buy green velvet braid for my new silk dress. It is so elegant on the 
 edge of the flounces ; it is perfectly splendid on Ellen Mason's new dress. 
 I'll warrant Charlotte has gone out with Mama, and they'll buy some- 
 thing that wo'nt suit me at all I know they will. 
 
 [Re-arranging books in Tier satchel. 
 
 Enter ELLEN MASON. 
 
 Laura Ah ! Ellen, you are just the girl I wanted to see this morning. 
 I wanted mother to notice how nice your new silk dress looked with the 
 green velvet braid. Mother has gone out to buy me a new dress, and I 
 know I could persuade her to have it trimmed with green velvet edging 
 if she only saw how nice your dress looked with the braid of that color ! 
 Let us go 'round by Austin's store, on our way to school. 
 
 Ellen On our way to school ! Out of our way to school a mile or so, 
 and down and up a steep, long hill, in the bargain. Let us go to Aus- 
 tin's by way of the school. [Laughing. 
 
 Laura But we should certainly be in time to meet Mother and Char- 
 lotte at the store. 
 
 Ellen And then we should be very late at school. I can't be that, 
 Laura. Father says that if I do not have a tardy mark this term, he 
 will give me thirty feet in the " Early Dawn," all in my own name. 
 
 Laura 0, say! do you know that Father's "Gould & Curry" has 
 gone up to four thousand dollars a foot, and Mother read from the pa- 
 pers, this morning, that it had an " upward tendency." Just think of 
 it I And it only cost Father three hundred dollars a foot in the winter 
 of '62, Mama says. 
 
 Ellen How many feet has your father got ? 
 
 Laura Thirty feet. 0, we're rich I Mother is on the lookout for a 
 splendid house to rent, right off, or a fine site to build an elegant one on. 
 Father has ordered a new carriage, made expressly for us, with a stav- 
 ing team. We are going to commence living easy next week. Uncle 
 Henry says that we ought not to flare out big, all of a sudden, but that, 
 
6 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 like Father's stocks, our style should have a gradual upward tendency; 
 but Mama says that we ought and shall go on our fortune at once. Will 
 you believe it: she didn't know that Father had any ''Gould & Curry" 
 until last week. Uncle Henry persuaded Father to keep the fact from 
 Mother ; but when it got to be thirty-eight hundred a foot bid, Father 
 couldn't stand the keeping of the secret any longer. 0, Ellen, won't we 
 have bu'sting fine times! I am to have six new first-class dresses at 
 once. High-toned, I tell you. 0, no, I guess not. Tain't us that '11 put 
 on airs. Uncle Henry says that we'll exhaust all the atmosphere in the 
 neighborhood. Mother is buying a best kind of silk to-day. This one 
 is to be made up, and if the cutting is well done, we shall continue to 
 employ the same woman as dress-maker. But, Ellen, Mother says that 
 your father has made a great fortune lately in the brokering business? 
 
 Ellen 0, yes. Father ain't a broker, you know; but then he hag 
 been dabbling in stocks a good deal for the last two years. 
 
 Laura What has he got? tell me. 
 
 Ellen 0, he has got lots of stock that is turning out well. He says, 
 or Mother says, he wouldn't sell out what he has for $100,000. He has 
 been offered $40,000 for his mining interests alone. And, then his store 
 profits have never been so great. You see he paid off all hin debts due 
 in 1861 and '62 in greenbacks. Mother says he nearly doubled his 
 actual pecuniary worth by that operation. You see, he buys for green- 
 backs, and- sells for coin. Mother says Father confesses he would have 
 "gone in" in 1863, but for the depreciation in greenbacks, and what he 
 made by paying old scores in them, which did not cost over seventy-five 
 or eighty cents on a dollar. And, do you know that there were a great 
 many in Father's predicament ! 
 
 Laura No? 
 
 Ellen Yes, Mama says so. Papa has got fifty feet of "Del Monte," 
 and the same amount of "Pond;" so, any way the case goes, between 
 them he is bound to have- a "good thing." Don't you see? ' Besides, 
 he has got any quantity of small stock, which is liable to turn up big any 
 day. Papa says everything was " wild-cat" once, and any of what is 
 "wild-cat" now may prove rich. But, come, it is time for us to be on 
 the way to school. 
 
 Laura Well, wait until I write a little note to Mama about the trim- 
 mings [taking a piece of paper out of her satchel, and sitting down to write.'] 
 I will tell her that you will come over this evening in your new silk, 
 to let her see how you look in it. You'll come, won't you ? 
 
 Ellen 0, yes, I'll come, for I want a suit-pattern to my dress. (I over- 
 heard a young man say, yesterday, that he did like to see two pretty 
 girls walking Montgomery street dressed in the same style the same 
 cut and trimmings.) [Aside. 
 
 Laura Now I've got my letter written, I don't know where to leave 
 it. 
 
 Ellen Give it to the servant, and tell her to give it to your mother so 
 soon as she comes in. 
 
 Laura She'd forget it she always does until I come home in the 
 afternoon. 
 
 Ellen Leave it just sticking out of this big Bible. 
 
DEPRECIATION. 7 
 
 Laura No, Mother would never notice it there. I'll go up stairs, and 
 stick it in the side of Mama's looking-glass ; she'll be sure to see it 
 there the first thing when she comes in. Come I [Exeunt. 
 
 [Enter MRS. BRYAN, in great haste.'] 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Well, well, well I I do hope we shall have the carriage 
 to-morrow. I am glad Alfred had it started a month ago, as a surprise 
 to me. The two-blocks' walk from the railroad is enough to exhaust me. 
 [Calling] Jane! Jane! Jane! Jane! Why don't that girl answer? 
 she must be up stairs. 
 
 [Servant JANE enters, unperceived by MRS. BRYAN, moves up to the table 
 cautiously, and touches a call-bell that is standing on the Bible.'] 
 
 Mrs. Bryan [starting'] Why, Jane, you there! 
 
 Jane I ought to be here, for you called me. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Well, why didn't you answer, if you were about? And 
 what did you mean by springing that bell ? 
 
 Jane You told me, madam, yesterday, that you would touch the bell 
 hereafter when you wanted me. Tou called me, just now. (Not the 
 first mushroom I've helped set up in manners.) [Aside. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan How long has Laura been gone ? 
 
 Jane Just gone, madam just gone to school with Ellen Mason. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Jane, Mr. Bryan thinks that we shall move, certainly, 
 this week ; probably day after to-morrow. I wish you to loosen the 
 carpets up-stairs to-day, so that we shall be ready, to take them up at a 
 moment's warning. We shall certainly move this week. 
 
 Jane I thought you were going to build a house of your own, madam ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan We cannot sit here, in this shanty of a house, until such 
 time as we can find a place where we would like to build. We have 
 been cramped up here long enough. 
 
 Jane Mrs. Bryan, there is a girl below that has been waiting for you 
 to come home, for some time. She is after a place ; I know her very 
 well; I knew her at home ; she heard you were going to hire two more 
 girls. She's a good washer and ironer, and she knows everything about 
 taking care of children. She's got a letter from the Sisters. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You may tell her to come up. [Exit JANE.] I met Mrs. 
 Hvssard this morning, and she declared that I would curse the day I had 
 the second girl in the house, to associate and gossip with the other. I 
 told her I intended to have two more, at least, which rather put her 
 "second girl 1 ' out of objection, and rather mortified her consequence. 
 She put on dreadful haughty airs to me, when we came out in the 
 steamer, ten years ago, because her husband was then a rich merchant. 
 I will show her now who is "up," and who is only middling. 
 
 [Re-enter JANE, followed by BRIDGET, who is elegantly dressed, her 
 hair braided, cheeks rouged, etc.'] 
 
 Jane This is Miss Bridget Burns, Mra. Bryan. I recommends her. 
 [JANE proceeds to dust, and fitss about the room, while BRIDGET sweeps 
 magnificently around, takes the rocking-cnair, quizzingly looks at MRS. 
 BRYAN, who gives evidence of being slightly flustered at the grandeur, cool- 
 ness, and scrutinizing glances of the candidate for Servant's billet.} 
 
8 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Bridget 1 have got a recommend from the Sisters; and Jane knows 
 me, ma'am. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I want a girl to do our own washing and ironing, in the 
 house ; I do not feel like trusting it out any more. We shall have very 
 nice clothes to wash, and I want the work done by a careful and expe- 
 rienced person. 
 
 Bridget That's me, ma'am. How many have you in the family, 
 ma'am ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan There is only my husband, myself, and three children. 
 My husband's brother will continue to have his clothes washed by a 
 Chinaman. 
 
 Bridget How many shirts, in a week, does your husband wear ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan He has been accustomed to wear one two days ; here- 
 after he will have a fresh one each morning. 
 
 Bridget Has he collars and ruffles on his bhirts ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Plain bosoms, and the collars separate and small. 
 
 Bridget How old are all the childers ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan My oldest daughter is nineteen. 
 
 Bridget She stays at home all the time ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Yes. My next daughter is fifteen ; she is still going to 
 echool, but will leave off school this season. My youngest is a boy of 
 ten. 
 
 Bridget Are you going to set a grand dinner, with fresh napkins, 
 every day ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan "We shall most likely have company three or four times 
 a week. 
 
 Bridget Dinner when ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan "We have not decided as to that. 
 
 Bridget What wages, ma'am? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Twenty-five dollars a month. 
 
 Bridget 0, dear! 0, ma'am, I couldn't think of the work for that 
 price. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You will have nothing to do but take care of the wash- 
 ing and ironing. 
 
 Bridget I ought to have thirty-five for the work. I know what it is 
 this washing childers' clothes, and this washing and ironing fine frilled 
 and flounced underclothes. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan As I told the Intelligence Office Keeper, this morning, I 
 don't mind a difference of five dollars for a first-rate girl ; but she must 
 be first-rate. 
 
 Bridget 0, I've made my living at washing and ironing since I came 
 to the country, and done nothing else. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Well, I will try you for a month at thirty dollars. 
 
 Bridget Madam, is there to be a man cook ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan We have not decided on that. 
 
 Bridget It's not a Chinaman that yon are going to get, are you? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I don't think we shall employ a Chinaman. 
 
 Bridget Your husband won't be a g'ood politician if he allows it, 
 ma'am. Are you going to have a coachman ? sure, of course ye are? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Certainly. 
 
DEPRECIATION. 9 
 
 Bridgd I have got a cousin that just come out from New York, on 
 the steamer. He's a No. 1 coachman. If you will take us both, we'll 
 come for sixty dollars a month. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan My husband will hire the coachman. 
 
 Bridget Then he ought not to, indeed ; for it's the lady of the house 
 that has more to do with the coachman than the mon much. She is 
 continually riding out, while the mon is in business. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Well, if you wish to come for thirty dollars for one month, 
 to be kept on if you suit, you can come. {Rising. 
 
 Bridget Well, ma'am, there is one other tning I shall have to speak 
 to you about. I wants three nights in the week, besides Sunday nights, 
 which I will have, of course three nights in the week to go out, and 
 privilege to have company in the kitchen any night I wants, or to have 
 company in my room. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You will have your work to do, and you can go out ac- 
 cording as you work. I expect the girls will take turns in going out 
 I do not want any great noise in the kitchen from visitors, nor do I want 
 the back or basement doors left open late at night. 
 
 Bridget Sure, I was always accustomed, at grand places where I have 
 lived, to ring at the front door when I came home nights, or have a night 
 key, 
 
 Mrs. Bryan That can't be permitted. When the family go out of an 
 evening, altogether, I shall want one of the girls in the back parlor, 
 waiting ; and I have no objection to her having her beau there on such 
 nights, provided he's a decent fellow. 
 
 Bridgd [leaning back in the rocking-chair, and addressing JANE] Be 
 gob, she's insulting us, she is. Ma'am, our company is always dacent, 
 and more so than some's that higher. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I want it understood that on no evening shall all the 
 girls be absent, /must be at liberty to go out on any evening. 
 
 Bridget Do you agree to take me and my cousin ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Yo':r cousin will have to see my husband about the 
 coachman's place I will have nothing to do with the hiring. You have 
 my explanations as to what I want, and what I will give. You can 
 come, under the terms, for a month, or not. I must go up-stairs. 
 
 Bridget Well, ma'am, I will go and see your husband about the 
 places, if you will tell me where his office of business is? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan [retiring] I don't think you will suit me, anyway. 
 Jane, be preparing things for dinner. We shall have dinner early to- 
 dayhave the roast in by twelve o'clock. [Exit MRS. BRYAN. 
 
 Bridget [rockixg violently] What airs that woman has! Don't you 
 think, Jane, that if I went to see Mr. Bryan, I could get Pat a place ? 
 
 Jane Troth, you can't get anything of that kind out of the boss ex- 
 cept the mistress agrees. He does just exactly what she says, in moat 
 everything. You bothered her too much with your propositions. 
 
 Bridget Best to have all things understood in advance. 
 
 Jane Didn't I tell you I didn't have any understanding at all when I 
 came here, and I've all the liberty a girl could ask for. Sure you ought 
 to have accepted so good a place as I told you it was. Peoples that just 
 sprung up are always liberal. 
 
10 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Bridget Troth, I did accept. I'll have my trunk here to-night 
 Jane You'd better wait till we get into the new house. 
 Bridget Divil a day longer will I board, when I've a situation in my 
 fist. I've boarded out six weeks' wages now. I'll have Patrick bring 
 my baggage down this day, troth. [Exeunt. 
 
 [Enter MR. BRYAN slings his hat down on the table.'] 
 Mr. Bryan Well, it is more confounded bother trying to get a house to 
 rent that is, a suitable one for us, such as my wife would like than it 
 would be to go to work and make arrangements for building a new one. 
 Here, I've missed a meeting of the Board to-day, on acoount of my hav- 
 ing to hunt up a house. Mrs. Bryan must pursue this business for her- 
 self; I cannot afford to follow it. I would be satisfied here. If she is 
 not suited with the place I have now offered me, she must wait until the 
 carriage comes home, and then she can scour the town, until she finds a 
 domicil that does suit. 
 
 [Enter MRS. BRYAN.] 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Why, my dear, are you home at this time of the day ? 
 I expected you home rather early, but not so early as this. 
 
 Mr. Bryan Yes, my dear. I have been out and around looking at a 
 number of houses, and I found myself, at Board time, too far from Mont- 
 gomery Block to allow of my getting there in any available season ; so, 
 I am here for a lunch, and to report progress. I think I have found a 
 house that will suit you. There are twelve good rooms, and all the con- 
 veniences of gas and water well arranged. The owner will rent or sell 
 he is going to the East to settle down. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Has it got bay windows in front? 
 
 Mr. Bryan I believe not. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Then I don't want it. I must have bay windows in 
 front. 
 
 Mr. Bryan Maybe the landlord will put them in for us ; that's not a 
 difficult matter to remedy to your taste. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Well, he must do it right off, if we hire the house ; and 
 I want large panes of glass, filling a sash entire. 
 
 Mr. Bryan There is a large coach-house in the rear; and the building 
 is by itself, being separated from the neighbors at least six feet on each 
 side. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan That is good: I will go and look at the place this after- 
 noon. But now, dear Alfred, there is something which I wanted to see 
 you about this morning, very much. I called at your office to see you, when 
 I was down town. I overheard your brother Henry, last night, advise 
 you to sell out your Gould & Curry and Del Monte stock. Don't you do 
 it. Henry is always croaking to you first not to do something, and 
 then to do something or other. Don't you sell ; now mind what I tell 
 you. 
 
 Mr. Bryan If I should sell out now all the stock I have, I should 
 realize at least one hundred and ten thousand dollars, in gold coin. We 
 could live mighty comfortable on that amount, well invested here in San 
 Francisco, on real estate security. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You mind what I tell you, now; don't you sell your 
 stock any of it. It is going up much higher, I can see. 
 
DEPRECIATION. 11 
 
 Mr. Bryan Henry prevented me from selling it when I was disposed 
 to let it go at half the present figure ; aad I took his advice in buying it 
 at first. He has good judgment. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Mind what I tell you ; don't you sell. And I heard 
 Henry say to you, you ought not to " spread out," as he termed it. 
 What is your business to him ? Because he has a mind to hug up his 
 little twenty thousand dollars, like a crusty bachelor as he is, is that any 
 reason why you should think him a very wise man in all respects, whose 
 advice you must always follow, though your family suffer ? 
 
 Mr. Bryan My dear, brother Henry's advice has brought me this 
 wealth, by my following it, and that is good ground for following it in 
 making a sale now. Stocks go down oftener now-a-days, and more 
 readily than they go up. I was inclined to sell out, as he urged ; but if 
 you say No, why why I won't. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Don't! When you can sell out for two hundred thous- 
 and dollars clean cash, you may sell not before. Eecollect that. I 
 wanted to speak to you about another matter: did you know that Mr. 
 Cural is seriously paying attention to our daughter"? 
 
 Mr. Bryan Yes; and I made up my mind to kick him if he comes 
 into the house again, and can't take a plain hint to leave. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan That's just what Henry advised you to do this morning. 
 
 Mr. Bryan There you're mistaken. Henry advised me to kick him 
 before he got into the house. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Now, don't be a fool. Kick him, indeed I Kick an old 
 man 1 Or, I mean 
 
 Mr. Bryan [interrupting] Yes, that's just it. An old man like him, 
 making offers to a young girl of eighteen I 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You have no sense. You are not a mai^of sense. Don't 
 you know that he is worth a half a million at least? 
 
 Mr. Bryan I know he is an old man fifty years of age or over a 
 worn out debauchee. He is an old miser, besides, of the meanest type. 
 Do you suppose, Clara, that I'd permit him for a minute to talk to me 
 for himself of such a thing as a marriage with our pretty little daughter 
 of eighteen God bless her ! Never. I couldn't endure that, not if he 
 were worth his millions on millions. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Don't you know that our neighbor Burden's daughter is 
 going to marry Mr. Furlong, who is certainly fifty, and who don't claim 
 to have over a hundred thousand. 
 
 Mr. Bryan A hundred, a thousand disgraceful affairs of that charac- 
 ter might happen in San Francisco, without changing my ideas about 
 them in general, and, I am more sure, without leading me to entertain 
 such a match for my own child. The affair is degrading to the human 
 race, disgusting, outrageous. It might do in Turkey, but not where civ- 
 ilization has taken effect. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Alfred, you can blow away on your " general principles" 
 as much as you choose, if you think it does you any good. But Mr. Cural 
 is coming here to-night, to take Charlotte out to ride. Don't you oppose 
 it. If you can't contain your bad temper, and have good manners for 
 him, you can dine out. I promised him that she should ride out with 
 him to-night. Of course, you wouldn't attempt to prevent his doing so 
 to-night, after my promise ! [Looking very threateningly. 
 
12 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Mr. Bryan You ought not to have promised anything involving so 
 much without my knowledge and consent. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Alfred, you'd really teach impudence to an applicant for 
 a servant's place and wages! Charlotte goes out with Mr. Cural to rido 
 to-night. That's fixed. 
 
 Mr. Bryan It is disgraceful. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan It is not. You are no man. You don't see what is for 
 your own interest and the interests of your children. You happen to 
 have a little luck, and you don't know how to improve it. 
 
 Mr. Bryan There are some so called u advantages" of pecuniary luck 
 which I don't want to improve. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan No ; because you are a fool; you always were. 
 
 [Enter HENRY.] 
 
 Henry Here ! here 1 here ! Ask a fellow " home" to lunch, particu- 
 larly, PARTICULARLY ; and here, most unaccountable thing of all things, 
 I find Alf. at home, and domestic matters on the very verge of liveliness. 
 
 Mr. Bryan It is not five minutes since she was warning me against 
 you, too, and here you are, the invited guest of the best part of the day. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Henry is a croaker with you ; but he has good judgment 
 in making some store trades and purchases. I asked him to come here 
 and lunch, and go out with me this afternoon and make some bargains. 
 
 Henry Although I'm opposed to your putting on "airs " (too soon) 
 as Clara has just remarked 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I didn't say that. 
 
 Henry Well, something to that effect. still, I'm a valuable man to 
 
 have occasionally about the house. Clara don't like some of my outside 
 economical views.; but when I am given to understand that things are 
 to be and must be purchased, I'm a creature of good qualifications and 
 a first class higgler. Aint that so, brother's wife ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Henry, I hate you and I like you. 
 
 Henry If an eligible, fascinating young lady had made that same re- 
 mark to me, I should have replied instanter : You hate me for somebody 
 else's sake, and you like me for my own. Therefore, you very naturally 
 both like and hate me. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You've got a kind of underhand goodness about you, 
 but you are a croaker. 
 
 Henry Two matters of character not at all inconsistent. As a truly 
 brave man is one who knows his danger when met, grows white in the 
 gills, and faces the enemy, so, in some such sort of way, a truly exem- 
 plary member of our modern pioneer society is a man who knows its 
 faults and foibles and speaks of them, and censures people guilty of 
 them (himself included), and keeps his temper so perversely that on one 
 can find a chance to kick or curse him that is, not curse him in his 
 presence. But here, I expect something tremendous in the.affairs of the 
 house are on the tapis. Come, now, what is it ? Have you a new house 
 rented ? And where is it sitivated ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan [Touches Ml Enter JANE.] Jane, bring the lunch up 
 here. [Exit JANE. 
 
 Mr. Bryan I looked at the house you spoke of this morning. My 
 
DEPRECIATION. 13 
 
 wife objects to it, before seeing it. on account of there not being any 
 front bay window to it, or in it. 
 
 Henry Good objection ! Bay windows are essentially California in- 
 stitutions. Pre-eminent characteristic glories of the Pacific style of 
 house and cottage architecture. 
 
 \Enter BRIDGET with lunch, which being duly spread, the parties sit about 
 the table. Bridget stands at side.] 
 
 Henry Now, I venture to say that there are more pretty girls and hand- 
 some houses in this little city of San Francisco, in comparison with its 
 size, to say nothing of its age, than in any other city on the continent. 
 Pretty girls ! why the city is full of them. You take a good bay-window 
 view on Montgomery street on a good breezy afternoon, why, it's 
 enough to set an old bachelor, not used to the sight, into an Atlantic 
 Cable fit. That makes me think ; I've heard some bach'es object to the 
 regular Montgomery street walkers. I like them. ^Regularity heightens 
 variety and novelty. I like to see the regular trampers, with their shop- 
 ping bundles; I have got so that I can time them. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Time them ? 
 
 Henry Certainly. Given the time of passing Shew's gallery, figured 
 the minute when they come in on the first return trip, by route down 
 Kearny and Sansome ; brown bundle carried up, slightly exposed, small 
 parcel ; newspaper bundle, size for dress-pattern, much exposed on first 
 return trip. Second return trip, if made same day, will exhibit end of 
 pair of shoes, very scantily tied up in tea paper. Calculate them? of 
 course, as regular as an eclipse. By the way, I saw old Cural a few 
 hours ago ; he was soft on me ; I know what he's after. You must 
 choke that old fry, if he comes about the new house. Let old things 
 pass away, then and there, and all things become new. 
 
 Mr. Bryan The bay-window can easily be put in, for both windows 
 of that house. 
 
 Henry 0, yes coming back to the bay-window. The bay-window 
 can and must be put in ; and you can have a cistern put on top of the 
 house, with heating apparatus attached to the kitchen stove and all 
 that sort of convenience, But we must hurry out, if we are going. I 
 know you want to make a thorough review of rentable houses, and so 
 far as I'm involved as a legal tender in the business, I want to have the 
 job off my hands. By the way, passing Newhall's this morning great 
 crowd lots of carriages, buggies and coaches in front, for sale. All of 
 them went off like hot cakes. 0, there's lots of people in your path to 
 day. There's lots of people here who have got rich within the past year 
 Lord only knows how, in many cases ; in many cases they hardly 
 know themselves. Why, here's a tract of country lying right off 
 here to the southwest of San Francisco proper as it lately was of 
 which people hardly dreamed there was an existence until a few months 
 ago. Now the steam Irishman digs into it, and up, up, up it goes. 
 That's the way to have an easy and permanent fortune, Alph I Buy 
 real estate in the suburbs of a growing western city. That is the way 
 Douglas made his money in Chicago; Filley and Crittenden made theirs 
 in that way in St. Louis; Cass made a^good share of his fortune in 
 2 
 
14 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 that way. But what the idea just now is mushrooms, lots of mush- 
 rooms ! mushrooms by the thousands with thousands I Ladies of thirty 
 all of that, you bet learning to read, write and speak French, when 
 they can't write legibly in English. Gentleman of forty, who have a 
 brogue more rough than rich not yet off their lips, learning to dance 
 private pupils. By the way, Mrs. B., I have got a special item for you. 
 So soon as you set up in fine style, you will be overrun with callers at 
 lunch time. Lots of women acquaintances will "just happen in," quite 
 accidentally so far as lunch is concerned, at lunch hour. It is the female 
 free lunch game. I have been meditating over the little affairs that will 
 contribute to your happiness and peace of mind in your approaching 
 highness of position. I'll tell you how you can dodge the whole nuis- 
 ance at the outset. Take your lunch out; lunch down town. Ha! hal 
 Capital idea, ain't it, Alph? Strategy! I'll bet a half dollar to a 
 bachelor's pincushion, Mrs. B., that you won't be established in your 
 big quarters three days, before you'll hear of a lunch-time call on you 
 from Mrs. Hemp ; who, I'll be bound, has not been to see you for an 
 age. She's a regular old feminine bummer ; and there's lots of her kind. 
 They manage by their volume of gossip to keep up social relations with 
 the idle women of wealthy leisure in town ; and so they live, actually 
 feed from door to door. The least troublesome are those most expert in 
 gaining and establishing relationships of this character. I have been 
 many times confidentially told of one woman, who does not call at the 
 same house more than once a month. They say she has over one 
 hundred sure resorts for square meals, and there's nothing on earth to 
 recommend her but her volubility of gossip, and her disposition to learn 
 and tattle matters that could not'bear print at all. 
 
 Bridget Madam, Jane said she forgot to tell you that Mrs. Hemp 
 called to see you, just before you came in. Her card is on the mantle- 
 piece in your chamber. 
 
 Henry There! "I told you so!" I knew she'd be about, so soon as 
 your good luck was known. And by the by, another thing : You will 
 be sure to be bored by the Samaritan Dorcas Society women of the city. 
 Take my advice hero, Mrs. B. Set apart a fixed quarterly sum for the 
 principal charity institutions of the city ; give that regularly at a day 
 named to the officers of the institutions; you and Alph agree upon so 
 much for the church you attend and so much for its special charities and 
 enterprises ; and. having done your duty, you will be armed against 
 a host of terrible importuning, having a substantial reason for your faith 
 and your negative. Don't imagine for one moment that you can reli- 
 giously divide your money, giving something to every solicitor. That 
 can't be done, except you fritter away a great deal of time unnecessarily ; 
 and you want to fritter away your time as necessarily as possible. For 
 people in ordinary circumstances, it will do to wait for the call of agents, 
 and hold purse strings until you're dove after ; but a hundred thousand 
 capital for income ought to have a systematized outlet in this direction. 
 0, money really will bring vexation of spirit to women, as well as to 
 men. I know it don't seem hardly possible ; but it's so. But we must 
 be off. [Rising, all, from table. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Yes, Henry, I want to save some of your breath for our 
 
DEPRECIATION. 15 
 
 business, to-day. And, I'll tell you, if we hire the house you have 
 recommended, the first evening after the bay-windows are finished, we 
 will have the blinds dowu and a pulpit erected inside one of the par- 
 lor set, and you shall deliver a prepared lecture to a select circle of ac- 
 quaintances, on the " needs and nuisances of high life in San Francisco." 
 
 Henry All right ! all right ! I will do it. And you may give out in- 
 vitations to that effect. But not a guest would you have on such a 
 "card" ; no audience except our family, who might all be there on com- 
 pulsion. But you announce a private lecture on the " Wretchedness of 
 Bachelor high life in San Francisco," and your floors would groan with 
 the invited parties and those who would consider themselves invited. 
 And that is a topic which I could most consistently treat, on the same 
 basis as all other popular lecturers ; for, of course, I have no experimen- 
 tal knowledge of real high life in family, except that I have seen through 
 bay-windows, and that I have been forced to overhear, coming up to my 
 quarters from the kitchen. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan But bachelor high life ! 
 
 Henry That's what I remarked : if it would do to lecture on such a 
 subject before a promiscuous audience. Now you've got on your things, 
 let us start. Come ! altogether for the same down train ! 
 
 [Exeunt MR. AND MRS. B. and HENRY. JANE enters, and she and BRIDGET 
 clear away the lunch. 
 
 \Enter CHARLOTTE followed by ARTHUR.] 
 
 Charlotte Has mother gone out again ? 
 
 Jane Just gone, with your father and uncle. 
 
 Charlotte Just gone out ? How could we have missed them ? 
 
 Bi idget Easy enough, troth. Sit down now, and I'll bring you up a 
 fine lunch. The old folks are away, now you can have it all comfortable 
 [oggling the young man] (0, but that's a healthy young chap. And does 
 that cussed Cural think to cut him out, with his shiners in the grasp of 
 his wrinkles ! Divrt a bit of fear of it.) [Aside. 
 
 Charlotte Why don't you bring us up the lunch if you are going to. 
 
 Bridget At once. Troth, we'll be a long time bringing it up, to give 
 them a chance. Holy mother of Moses 1 but he's a broth of boy. And 
 old Cural would cut him out! Ah 1 bad luck to his old bones that ever 
 marrowed such on idea at all, at all. [Aside. 
 
 [Exit JANE and BRIDGET.] 
 
 Arthur Tou must play and sing once for me, to-day. 
 
 Charlotte Now you stay here, and I'll go into the parlor and play a 
 tune that will just suit your case. 
 
 Arthur And yours, too ? 
 
 Charlotte Yes. 
 
 Arthur What will it be ? 
 
 Charlotte Why, you'll hear it. 
 
 Arthur No ; but you must tell me. 
 
 Charlotte [Laughing and humming as she dodges around Arthur and 
 escapes from the room :] 
 
 " "When Johnny comes marching home 1" 
 
16 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Arthur I'll go and whistle an accompaniment. [Exit CHARLOTTE and 
 ARTHUR. 
 
 [Enter JANE with lunch, followed by BRIDGET.] 
 
 Jane "Why, what's becpme of the pair. Hark! They've gone into 
 the parlor; singing soldier songs. I believe they'll forget'all about their 
 lunch. 
 
 Bridget Ler'era. It'll do 'em no harm. Set down the things. Of 
 course they'll forget about the lunch. But we must not let it be wasted. 
 Come! Let's take a bite. Let the dear creatures enjoy themselves. 
 They'll never think of their lunch. [Eating voraciously. 
 
 Jane 0, they're jewels ! 
 
 Bridget When are they going to the church? 
 
 Jane I don't know. 
 
 Bridget Don't know! Been here as long as you have and don't know I 
 You take away my appetite. [Continuing to eat heartily.'] I'll know to 
 an hour, before we move to the new house. 
 
 ACT II. 
 
 SCENE I. Scene on Montgomery Street in front of Montgomery Block. 
 Crowd of excited brokers. Jobbing and hawking going on. On the scene 
 rushes frantically a broker with a handful of stock certificates. Catches 
 a party violently by the arm, and pulls him to one side. 
 
 1st Broker Look here! Biggest thing ever struck. Branch mint! 
 Gold Hill District [twitching a piece of rock out of his pocket] Look at 
 that rock once, and weep ! The drift is only run thirty feet from the 
 bottom of the shaft. 
 
 Major .Dove [Examining rock] That looks like Empire rock! 
 
 1st Broker Don't it! No rock been found in G-old Hill to anywhere 
 compare with it, except out of the Empire. 
 
 Major Dove [Finger on his nose~\ Salt! Salt! 
 
 1st Broker 0, no, Major ! 
 
 Major Dove 0, yes, Jim! [Retires. 
 
 1st Broker [Pulling off another party] Look here! Biggest thing ever 
 struck! Only thirty dollars a foot just now, and I am the only man in 
 the city who has got any of the rock. [Exhibiting rock. 
 
 Capt. Ilamon What is it! 
 
 1st Broker Jewett & Shepperd 1 Gold HUH Biggest thing out ! I 
 can show you extracts from the Virginia newspapers, substantiating the 
 the whole mine ! Dead open and shut chance for making. Will go up 
 to five hundred dollars, sure 1 
 
 Capt. Ramon Salt ! Salt ! 
 
 1st Broker 0, no, Capt. ! 
 
 Capt. Ramon 0, yes, Jim 1 [Retires. 
 
 [1st Broker shakes hands with a number of his fellows, and forms the ac- 
 quaintance of an " outside party r ," whom he pulls to one side.'} 
 
DEPRECIATION. 17 
 
 1st Broker Here is the biggest thing you ever heard of. American 
 Basin Rock, Humboldt County. You can buy it now for ten dollars a 
 foot. Has Sheba and Ben Franklin Ledges, both. Just look at this 
 rock [exhibiting same specimen as before,] thro' this microscope! 
 
 Simon Simmonds Where do you say this comes from? 
 
 1st Broker Humboldt County, Nevada Territory. Biggest thing out. 
 Can show you extracts from the papers about it ; but the editors don't 
 know half its worth. 
 
 Simon Simmonds How much can it be bought for, now ? 
 
 1st Broker Ten or twelve dollars a foot. 
 
 Simon Simmonds It is splendid rock ; can you buy me fifty feet of it 
 to-day ? 
 
 1st Broker Just come down to my friend's office, on the corner of the 
 street there. I'll bring up a party that I think will sell for ten dollars. 
 He don't suspect the result of these late developments. At any event we 
 can get part of it for ten; perhaps half of it, and the rest we can get for 
 from $12 to $15. [Exit 1st BROKER and SIMON SIMMONS. 
 
 [2o and 3D BROKERS have been conversing and watching, together, IST BRO- 
 KER and SIMON SIMMONDS. Both commence laughing, as the 1st and his 
 dupe disappear.'] 
 
 Id Broker Jim has got a new leak. Such fellows ought to be cow- 
 hided off the pavement. They are making the business disreputable, 
 and very soon they'll take away all the profits of it, for people will not 
 invest, not on the street. But as you were remarking: if we can 
 manage to get hold of and lock up that amount of stock, it will be a sure 
 thing. That is, unless there is a general wholesale depreciation. But 
 are you sure you can get such an amount of that stock on that short 
 notice ? Won't that party begin to smell a mice, and cover his own ? 
 
 3d Broker Not a bit of it. I've got him scared out of his boots now. 
 "We can induce the directors to levy another dollar assessment, and not 
 a red cent of it will he pay against the next assessment sale. We can 
 buy in all we want at the sale. I can get what stock Alph. Bryan has 
 got for almost nothing ; he's so much up on his pins. The only thing 
 needed, so far as he is concerned, is to prevent bis selling to anybody 
 else, until such time as we want it or are sure of enough without it. I 
 think it is a clear game to run it up to three hundred dollars a foot in one 
 month from the date of the "starter." [Enter BOB RiCKETj Here comes 
 Bob ; let us get him. down to the office and sound him, the first thing. 
 [Exeunt two Brokers with their friend "Bos." 
 
 [ Well dressed Rough slides on the scene. Broker No. 4 starts from a group 
 and greets him.'] 
 
 4th Broker Halloa, Bill 1 how are you ? Where the devil have you 
 been for a long time past ? 
 
 Bill Halloa, Fred ! how are you. 
 
 &th Broker Well, how are you ! and where have you been for a long 
 time past? 
 
 Bill I've been up in Nevada Territory. 
 
 4th What have you been doing up there ? dealing from the bottom 
 as usual ? 
 
 2* 
 
18 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Sill Not a bit of it. Better thing ! [winking] Better thing ! 
 
 4th Broker How's that. 
 
 Sill Something new. Better thing. 
 
 4th Broker Brokering. 
 
 Bill Damn your brokering. 
 
 4th Broker Come, now, let on. Let's know what it is. "Why, here 
 let me introduce you to 
 
 Bill [Detaining him] Here, here, Fred, don't introduce any of those 
 blackguards to me. I've quit keeping a game. I knew them all three 
 years ago. 
 
 4th Broker What on earth have you beeS doing to spruce yourself up 
 so much. Tell a fellow. 
 
 Bill Fred, there's great benefit in being a "pioneer" in a new mining 
 country. 
 
 4th Broker Why so? 
 
 Bill Litigation is flourishing and big. Witnesses must be had. Men 
 are wanted, at high prices, to testify; men who have actually been there 
 in early days; you conceive? Let us go and take our choice of poisons. 
 
 4th Broker That has been your lay out, has it ? Good thing? 
 
 Bill You bet. 
 
 4th Broker Have you become a lawyer ? 
 
 Bill Lawyer be dam'd. A lawyer is not half the account of a good 
 witness. A judge first, then a witness, then a lawyer. Available wit- 
 ness is No. 2, Fred. Lawyers (best of 'em) No. 3. Judges, No. 1. Wit- 
 ness, goodwituess, available witness, pioneer witness, is No. 2. No. 2, 
 you bet. Come let's go and suicide. 
 
 [Enter "NED" on the Scene.] 
 
 4th Broker Why, halloa, Ned! how are you? And you are another 
 mightj well got up Territorial cuss. Nif! My, what style I I heard 
 you were over in Nevada. Another witness, Bill? eh? 
 
 Bill 0, no, 0, no. He ain't on that. Better thing yet. He found 
 an immigrant road lying around loose, and considerably traveled over, 
 and so he just strung a toll gate frame across the highway and collected 
 Ms regular little income. 
 
 4th Broker The devil he did. 
 
 Bill That's the name of it. Devilish good idea ! Ha! Ha! 
 
 Ned Look at that fellow picking that man's pocket. Scampi He'll 
 get away without detection, and he's taken a handkerchief worth four 
 bits. 
 
 Bill Your ordinary toll charge, eh! Ned! Come, let's all go and 
 alkali. [The three ex. 
 
 [Enter BROKER No. 5.] 
 
 5th Broker Zip! Zip! [flourishing report sheet] Gould and Curry is 
 five thousand two hundred! No use in talking; the goose hangs high. 
 Pretty well for a little hole in the ground, six thousand feet above the 
 evel of the sea. 
 
 [Street Brokers gather 'round the comer, who has the day's bulletin of 
 
 stock prices.] 
 6th Broker How's Ophir to-day? 
 
DEPRECIATION. 19 
 
 1th Broker How's Chollar? 
 8th Broker 'Row's Lady Bryan? 
 9th Broker How's Potosi ? 
 IMh Broker How's Savage? 
 llth Broker How's Norton? 
 
 [Enter EMPEROR NORTON.] 
 
 Emp. Norton I will issue a proclamation clearing the streets of such 
 crowds. This kind of excitement must be stopped. I think they mean 
 menace to my empire. I'll have some of these men transported beyond 
 the high seas. 
 
 [Enter COOMBS.] 
 
 Coombs Gentlemen, can't I sell you, one and all, a ticket in my lot- 
 tery for a stereoscope ? Mr. Nabl is now the treasurer of the little oper- 
 ation, and therefore everybody has the most perfect confidence in it. 
 Mr. Roman has subscribed, and a number of other eminent citizens. It 
 will surely come off when I shall have sold ninety tickets. Beautiful 
 views I You see a view of the Gould & Curry mill at one turn of the 
 nob an institution in which all you brokers wish you had an interest ; 
 one view you have of Virginia City, and another single turn of the nob 
 brings you to Ragtown. Never was such a beautiful article offered be- 
 fore in such a manner ; such an instructive, convenient article for an old 
 man to give as a. present to his young sweetheart. Ha! ha! Cornel 
 come 1 Now, you, sir, subscribe. Only one dollar ! Stocks are up, and 
 you must subscribe, all of you. Only one dollar I 
 
 6th Broker You promised to sell it to me at that price. 
 
 1th Broker You are a liar! 
 
 5th Broker I'll publish you in the papers. 
 
 1th Broker You are a liar I 
 
 [Row, policemen enter, make arrests, and dear the scene. 
 
 II Dining room in BRYAN'S new house. JANE discovered en- 
 gaged in arranging the table for dinner. BRIDGET enters, in working 
 dress, seats herself, arms akimbo, sighing with fatigue. 
 
 Bridget Dear me 1 But I've had a terrible day's work. Madam's and 
 childers' cloths grow more dre'dful every week. This week they've 
 loads. 
 
 Jane Sure, you're always complaining. You got through work early 
 to-day, whatever it was. It's not five o'clock yet. You are always 
 through and can have your own time before me. 
 
 Bridget Oh ! I work when I work. And my work is work. 
 
 Jane It's well for those that's able to stand it, and gets good pay 
 for it. 
 
 Bridget What's only fiVe dollars a month more than your's ? 
 
 Jane Out every night. 
 
 Bridget Not half the opportunities of the house you have. Why, I 
 don't understand a quarter of what's going on in this family; and, sure, 
 I'd know it ail if I was fussing about all the mornings, as you are. 
 
 Jane Well, now, I'd just like to change of mornings, every other day 
 with you, if you likes. 
 
20 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Bridget I'll do that for a week with you. That'll be long enough for 
 you. I tho't, sure, the mistress was going to have another girl. 
 
 Jane Faith, they're going to have a governess, for the boy, soon; 
 and Charlotte is to have a waiting maid come next week to be called 
 Charlotte's waiting maid, tho' it's the madam will kill time for her. I'm 
 sure it's been nothing but a boarding-house for seamstresses since they 
 came into this. 
 
 Bridget And, I expect you'll have to wait on the waiting maid ? 
 [Laughing.'] 
 
 Jane You let her wait there until I do, troth. [Laughing derisively.] 
 
 Bridget "Well, Margaret Magaragle promised to_be here very early to- 
 night, to go out with me. 
 
 Jane You are always going out. You told the mistress you only 
 wanted three nights in the week and Sundays. Sure, you're out every 
 night these two weeks. 
 
 Bridget And whose business is it but my own ? 
 
 Jane Nobody's business but your own, troth ; for divil of a fellow 
 have you raised yet, since Patrick as good as threw off on ye. You've 
 got to get Margaret Magaragle to go out with you and rise company 
 for ye. 
 
 r Bridget "Well, if it's the likes of such company as you bring around 
 here to keep you in o' nights, may I walk the streets for the next twenty 
 years before I catch that same. Such trash ! I wouldn't be looking at 
 the likes of such. 
 
 Jane Ah I "We hear enough. Divil a fear of your catching a fellow 
 at all, at all. 
 
 Bridget Faith, it's aisy to make a raise of a crowd of " pick-ups.", 1 
 
 Jane Not " aisy "; or you'd had plenty by this time. 
 
 Bridget 0, go on with your errands. I wouldn't be bothering my 
 head with talking to you. There's not one of your chaps I couldn't 
 pitch out of the second story window. 
 
 Jane There's none o' them would go up so high with you. 
 
 [Enter PATRICK.] 
 
 Bridget Come here, Patrick. I've got some copies for you to read. 
 [producing package of letters from her bosom.] I want you should see 
 if you can make them out. I know there's a dale of humor in them. 
 I heard Miss Charlotte and her Uncle making great glee over them, last 
 night, as late as when I came in. 
 
 [Patrick seats himself on a side table, takes the package, pulls out one of 
 the letters and opens it.] 
 
 Bridget Is the letters bad ? [leaning against Pals shoulder. 
 
 Patrick Not very bad; [pushing Bridget from him, whilst looking in- 
 tently at the letter] but it's a honey letter, and it's a great strain on my 
 breast to read it [studying}. Here, Jane, you come and look at this. 
 [JANE comes over to PAT, who puts his hand on her head, and presses it to 
 his breast] Now it begins clear: [reading, with Irish accent. 
 
 "My dearest dear: The long day has tediously worn away, and the 
 curtains of night are drawn around me. The fierce shining of the sun 
 has given place to the beautiful beamings of the moon." 
 
 0, it's a honey letter \kissing JANE. 
 
DEPRECIATION. 2l 
 
 Bridget Troth, and I don't see what they found to laugh about in it. 
 p a t jfoj it's sarious. [continuing to read: 
 
 " the moon. the moon. the moon ! 
 
 What the blazes the raison I can't go beyond that moon? [again kissing 
 JANE] Oh! 
 
 " the moon. Now, in this ' witching hour,' for it has just struck 
 
 twelve" [Sell rings. 
 
 Bridget That's the mistress' ring for you, Jane. 
 
 Jane Let's change works this evening. You run up and answer it. 
 
 Bridget Ha ! you stay there until I do. 
 
 Jane [releasing herself from PAT'S embrace, and sighing] Well, I 
 know it's dinner time ; Mr. Bryan has come home, I guess. [Exit JANE. 
 
 Pat Bother me, but I think he has; and there's the off horse outside 
 for me. He's getting him out of manners, riding him the way he does. 
 [Closing letter, and replacing it in package. 
 
 Bridget Ain't you going to finish the reading ? 
 
 Pat I came across a word that was too much for me ; and the horse 
 must be waiting outside. I expect them's little Laura's honey-notes ; 
 and it's a mighty shame for you to be staling them. 
 
 [Returning package to Bridget Exit. 
 
 Bridget [Replacing package in her bosom.] The divil's own cure to 
 the pair of them. This comes of getting him a fine coachman's place in 
 a genteel establishment a thing he wasn't used to the desaving vaga- 
 bond. Never mind, I'll be even with the twain. 
 
 [Enter JANE.] 
 
 Jane Mr. Bryan will not be home until late, Mrs. Bryan is going out 
 again, and dinner's not to be served for an hour. 
 
 Bridget Troth, I'll be hungry enough when I get mine. 
 
 [Enter MARGARET MAGARAGLE, elegantly dressed."] 
 
 Bridget Ah ! Margaret, you're off your washing earlier than any girl 
 in the country. You ought to be off the hooks soon. 
 
 Margaret Why shouldn't I be ? I've been up since three this same 
 blessed Saint's day. 
 
 Jane Who'd know it? you're blooming as a beet. 
 
 Margaret Why, what's the matter with you, Jane ? you look as yel- 
 low as a carrot. 
 
 Bridget She's got the dockin' janders, from eating her fingers with 
 idleness. 
 
 Jane [Leaning over the dining .table."] I have my work and my com- 
 pany to my hands. I don't beat the streets for the bleach of my com- 
 plexion. 
 
 Bridget How are you getting along, Margaret? 
 
 Margaret 0, so so, 
 
 Bridget What queer people those are you have next door ? 
 
 Margaret 0, do you know that old bachelor, I was telling you about, 
 has married married last night. You see, he really owns that corner 
 property, as well as two or three lots to the west of us. Well, his 
 brother's family were so, afraid that he'd marry some young creature, and 
 
22 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 have children of his own, and so throw them out of the place, that they 
 brought in a middle-aged widow woman, who had no children, to act as 
 a kind of nurse for their family. Then they all set to work courting this 
 bachelor brother for this woman ; and, sure enough, last night they got 
 him married to her. And he's going off to live by himself, in the little 
 house to the right of us. And they've finally got that large, beautiful 
 new house he built and elegantly furnished, all to themselves. They 
 feel certain that their children will come in for all his property now. 
 And I really believe that the children of the house understand the dodge 
 their folks have been playing; I'm sure the oldest girl does. Misses said 
 she fairly wanted to give the old fellow a hint of what they were doing. 
 She says, and her husband says, that he's a smart business man, and 
 he's made lots of money in this country ; but they say that, like all old 
 bachelors, of his time of life, he's easy wheedled into a marriage by his 
 blood relations. 
 
 Bridget Oh ! then, I'd like to see those that'd sing Mr. Henry into a 
 match that want of his own notion. The Uncle here. Oh ! but he's the 
 strange man. Talk about the women having secrets ! But he's the most 
 prying old chap you ever could lay your eyes on. There's no news to 
 him. Sure, he edits the town. And, do you know, I think he doesn't 
 let a night skip he's not up in those gins' room, pumping every little 
 thirg of the day from them. And, then, he tells them hapes of goings- 
 ons among his acquaintances; and then he brings up the books every 
 month that comes, and they reads them up there together till all hours. 
 
 Jane Troth, the children would run wild but for him. 
 
 Bridget I believe they would. I believe they'd die if he was to go 
 away. Oh! but they've got as good a father if he was let. But he's 
 not let ! God pity him. A very quiet man. You'll scarce hear a word 
 out of his head after he comes home of a night. And, when dinner is 
 over, he'll take that big boy of his up in his arms, with a mortal sigh, 
 and press him to his heart, and pat the top of his head, and look into 
 the parlor fire so mournful, that it's dreadful to see I 
 
 Jane How he'll start when the Madam speaks I 
 
 Bridget Start I 0, but it's a murdering jump. That woman keeps him in 
 purgatory all the whole blessed time. I wonder he doesn't take to drink- 
 ing, or gambling, or something of that kind. If he'd the Bank of Eng- 
 land it would be just so. She don't give him any comfort, but dragging 
 him from morn to night. Ah! but Henry Bryan, the master's brother, 
 he's the chap that'd soon put her to her place if she was married to him. 
 And, as it is, the only rest the man of the" house has, is when he's around 
 and throwing cuts at her. Oh! if I. only had Jane's place, I'd know 
 something about what's going on in this house. As it is, I'm lost for in- 
 formation. You see they want, that is, the madam wants Charlotte, the 
 oldest girl of the two, to marry an old gentleman of their acquaintance. 
 Of course, the girl don't want to do it ; and I think the father is not for 
 it, and I know this uncle the same I've been telling you about is 
 dreadfully down on it. But the mother she's the one I She's bent on 
 this match. I can gather that from what trifle has come to my ears 
 unawares. Jane, can you get the cook to let us have a little soup ; I'll 
 perish from hunger soon. 
 
DEPRECIATION. 23 
 
 Jane I'll see. [Exit. 
 
 Margaret Soup's a thing we don't have in our house. 
 
 Bridget No 1 
 
 Margaret Not a drop since I've been in it, going on six weeks it's 
 all one dish. 
 
 Bridget, What's that? 
 
 Margaret Pork aud beans. "We had pork and beans for dinner yes- 
 terday ; we had 'em again this morning, and I heard Madam tell the 
 cook, just before I came away from the house this afternoon, that he 
 might warm up again what was left this morning for to-day's dinner. 
 0, it's a regular Yankee house; everything is sweetened with molasses, 
 and that's watery. 
 
 Bridget Sure, those Yankees don't know how to live. 
 
 Margaret They're too mean. Why, that man is worth a good for- 
 tune, but he minds a cent, now. They don't speak of bits there at all; 
 they are talking of cents; they are always talking of ten cents 
 and twenty cents. I don't believe I ever heard that woman say 
 "two bits." She's always patching and mending; why, it's a sight 
 to see those children's underclothes and ihe man's shirts. Why, 
 they're kind'o quilted, they're so patched. And she's talking every 
 blessed moment of "economy." You know, for lunch, she won't 
 have a bit of fire 1 but they drink their coffee, that is left from break- 
 fast, cold. And three pints of milk does the whole house men, wo- 
 men ; three men boarders and five children, one of the children not two 
 years old does that whole house a day. One of the boarders gave her 
 a sharp hint the other day. She was talking, at the table, of the great 
 expense of raising a family in this country ; and, amongst other things, 
 she mentioned the high price of milk. The man spoke up, and said he'd 
 left off using milk on account of its expense, when he was keeping house 
 by himself, and so now he never missed it. But, law ! what's hints to 
 them sort of creatures ? Sure, there wouldn't any of the men board 
 with them, only they all work for the man, or his brother, and they're 
 afraid they'd loose their places altogether if they left there. Sure, the 
 girls are crazy to raise fellows to take them out nights, and treat them 
 in a restaurant. 
 
 Bridget Did you raise that fellow we were introduced to after church 
 last Sunday ? 
 
 Margaret He's been down to the house twice this week, already ; 
 he's a nice looking fellow, ain't he ? 
 
 Bridget Ah ! but you can't tell anything about the likes of those. 
 Ten to one, he has a wife and childers in the States. Is he an American 
 mon ? 
 
 Margaret Indeed he is, full-blooded. 
 
 Bridget I didn't think so from his spache. Perhaps he'd been drink- 
 ing a little last Sunday, and he'd made his mouth thick. 
 
 Margaret Divil a drop, then ; for he told me he belonged to the Dash- 
 aways. 
 
 Bridget -Do you think you'll strike him ? 
 
 Margaret Ah 1 what do I care, whether or no? He's coming to Ves- 
 pers with me next Sunday. You come into the same pew, and I'll in- 
 
24 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 troduce you to him. and maybe you can strike him. 0, do you remem- 
 ber, I was telling you of the girl at the house I was at last having such 
 a fine beau ? 
 
 Bridget 0, yes. 
 
 Margaret Well, he's just left her entirely. You know I told you she 
 was too sweet upon him to hold him. I wan't a bit surprised when I 
 heard of it; I was certain she could not hold her cetch. She used to 
 hang on to him, coming up that long hilL I knew he'd get worn with 
 her ; and I know she never asked him to take a meal of food, her 
 people are so stingy. 
 
 [Enter JANE, followed by Cook, with soup, slices of freshly-roasted meat, 
 and all the substantial and side and desert dishes of a fashionable dinner. 
 
 Jane [ While arranging articles upon the table.'] Mrs. Bryan went out 
 just now. I met her in the hall as I was going down to the kitchen. 
 She'd been down, giving directions to Patrick about having the carriage 
 ready early to-morrow. They're all going out to a grand spree. Come! 
 we'll sit down and have our square meal. Lay off your things, Mar- 
 garet. I've had the meat cut so that they can't tell it, after the roast 
 has been put back in the oven, and browned where it was sliced. 
 
 [They draw up to the table. Exit cook. 
 
 Bridget I expect the soup is'nt done quite 9nough. 
 
 Jane [Sloping in th'e act of serving soup.'} Hark 1 I tho't I heard some 
 one come in the front door, with a latch key. 
 
 Bridget You must be mistaken. 
 
 Jane No 1 [dropping soup ladle and re-covering tureen.'] There's some 
 one coming down the stairs, now. Two or three persons. Bridget, take 
 Margaret up to your room by the other flight. It's the folks ! 
 
 [Bridget and Margaret retreat hastily. Margaret snatching up her bon- 
 net and shawl, and saying to Bridget : 
 
 Margaret You can dress yourself and come down and get a hearty 
 supper with me, after our dinner is over. 
 
 Bridget Troth, I will that. For I'd just got my appetite dre'dfully 
 excited. The cook swears when he's bothered in the kitchen out of his 
 own meal hours. [Eexunt. 
 
 [Enter HENRY BRYAN, ELLEN MASON and LAURA, dressed for the street.] 
 
 Jane I saw you coming, and I set the table for you three at once. 
 Your Mother just went out for an hour, and she said Mr. Bryan wouldn't be 
 home for an hour later. I tho't you'd want your dinner the moment you 
 came in. 
 
 Laura [removing her outer garments.] Why, we thought we were 
 very late ; and that Ma and Pa must be eating their dinner by this time. 
 So we hurried right down stairs so soon as we came in. 
 
 Ellen [doffing bonnet] I'm glad the dinner is ready, anyway. 
 
 Jane I knew you'd be hungry, so I bro't it right on, as soon as I seen 
 you coming. It's all nice and hot. The cook carved the meat, so that 
 he could put the roast back, against the madam came. 0, 1 took the 
 castor down this morning to scour it. I forgot to bring it up. [Exit. 
 
DEPRECIATION. 25 
 
 [The party seat themselves at the table, and HENRY proceeds to serve 
 
 Laura What a good, faithful, thoughtful girl Jane is, to have every- 
 thing ready for our dinner, and it all on the table, just as we got home 
 from that long ride. I declare, I must buy her another dress. 
 
 Ellen You ought, indeed. 
 
 Henry I suppose she did'nt have this dinner served up in this queer 
 way for herself and Bridget, and the coachman. 
 
 Ellen and Laura Pshaw! 
 
 Laura What a mean suspicion, Uncle ? 
 
 ACT III. 
 
 SCENE 1 Parlor in the NEW house of the BRYANS, elegantly furnished. 
 CHARLOTTE BRYAN discovered, engaged in arranging flowers in a vase. 
 
 Charlotte I do hope that old pest will not call this evening; I want 
 to have a good long walk with Arthur. I would rather have a walk any 
 clear night, than a ride on a dusty day. The idea that Mother has 
 have me throw off on Arthur, and take up wifli this old man 1 How 
 absurd it is. It can't be did. Young folks can't be commanded in these 
 things as they could be in very old times the times we read about in 
 old novels. I don't want his money, and as for having affection for him 
 by and by, as Mother says, I can't see it. I don't even have a feeling of 
 reverence for the old chap. My bump of reverence never was large, I 
 am afraid, and I think it has diminished much since Cural came a-court- 
 ing. Ha ! ha ! [Singing 
 
 "When this cruel war is over." 
 [Singing through line :] 
 
 " In your suit of blue." 
 
 Didn't he look handsome last night, in his suit of blue ? 0, how I love 
 that boy! and how I hate that old fellow! Ah! there's no telling. 
 I wish Laura would come home ; I'm dreadful tired staying here all this 
 afternoon, alone. I have a good mind to take a ride in the cars, as far 
 as " The Willows." I wonder what made them dismiss all the hand- 
 some conductors they had when the roads were first opened I I'd take 
 a promenade down Montgomery street, but Laura says it's getting to be 
 very vulgar to do that. [Looking out of window.'] 0, here comes Mama 
 across the street, and a man behind her with two bundles. Mama don't 
 like to go shopping. 0, no. She'd buy goods until there was not a 
 clerk in the store who was able to stand up and measure, if she just had 
 her full privilege for one twenty-four hours. I'll warrant she's almost 
 ready to swear, because the carriage broke down yesterday with our 
 party. And there come the two dress-makers. dear ! I was in hopes 
 that we were not going to have any more new dresses this week. I 
 wanted to go to San Jose next Saturday ; instead of that, we're fated to 
 
26 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 be in church next Sunday, with the first fashions. I don't feel half as 
 happy as I did when we were down at the old place, and on the old al- 
 lowance. Here they come up the steps; how the man with the bundles 
 pants I 
 
 [Enter MRS. BRYAN.] 
 
 Mrs. Bryan "Why, Charlotte, you here alone ! I met Mr. Cural, as I 
 was going down this noon, and told him you were keeping house by 
 yourself to-day. I expected he would have taken the hint, and im- 
 proved the time to call upon you. 
 
 Charlotte Mother, you are cruel ; there is no other name for it. You 
 are downright cruel. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I hope you will learn sense, one of these days. 
 
 Charlotte I hope you will learn sense and humanity. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan [laying off her bonnet and shawl, with air of surprise"] 
 Why, Charlotte, you are impertinent to your mother I 
 
 Charlotte Mother, I wish to talk with you very plainly about this old 
 man Cural, whom you seem to suppose you can induce or force me to 
 marry. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan And I wish to talk with you, Charlotte, very plainly, 
 respecting this young man Arthur, this half-fledged lieutenant, whom 
 you seem to think you can encourage without my consent, or that of 
 your father. 
 
 Charlotte I am engaged to him, already ; and he first visited me with 
 your sanction. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Engaged ! He never visited you, in the character of a 
 lover, with my sanction. Our families have long been intimate, and I 
 had no thought of his courting you, until within a few weeks past. 
 
 Charlotte Ma, do you think, for a moment, that you can force me to 
 marry against my will ? Those things are in the days of the past, or 
 they happen in other countries, or in families very differently composed 
 from ours. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan As a general rule, daughters are much more susceptible 
 now, than they used to be, to those principles of propriety, and those 
 social advantages which should govern all men and women in the higher 
 walks of life, in choosing for marriage. Charlotte, I don't expect you to 
 consider yourself as under any despotic authority, controlling your 
 wishes as to a good marriage. I expect you will hear to reason, and act 
 upon reason and policy, notwithstanding any fancy you may have as a 
 school-girl for a school-mate, or a young man acquaintance, who has 
 been privileged with a somewhat intimate association with the family. 
 I don't want you to think, for one moment, that I would attempt to force 
 you to do anything against your best judgment. You must let your 
 judgment take into consideration the reasons given you by me and by 
 your father; then you will judge right, I expect. 
 
 Charlotte I don't think Father has any desire that I should favor the 
 suit of Mr. CuraL 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Your father, my dear, is not a man likely to express to 
 you, hastily, his real desire or feeling on such a subject; and, besides, 
 you ought to know and fully understand, by this time, men are not good 
 judges in regard to the best marriages for their daughters. You know 
 
DEPRECIATION. 27 
 
 they don't see as plainly as mothers must about such matters ; and they 
 very rarely interfere, to any extent, because they feel, themselves, that 
 they don't know much about the business. 
 
 Charlotte I don't understand, yet, why you should wish me to favor 
 Mr. Cural. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I have tried to explain to you, several times. 
 
 Charlotte "We have now an abundance of means. He is an elderly 
 man ; he must be fifty, for a day. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Forty-four years of age, I think he says he is. 
 
 Charlotte Then, there is bad evidence as to character, against him ; 
 because he looks so much older than he really is. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I don't think that he looks over forty-four. 
 
 Charlotte I can't look with your eyes, mother ; not on that subject 
 But, Mother, really and truly, would you advise me, in all seriousness 
 to cast out all the hopes I confess I have in a marriage with Arthur, and 
 unite myself, a girl of nineteen, with this man Mr. Cural ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I advise it; I urge it; I do it for your good. He is im- 
 mensely wealthy ; will "set up" in magnificent style. You will have 
 all that heart can desire. 
 
 Charlotte No, Mother, not all that the heart can desire ; not all that 
 my heart can desire. If you had said all that vanity could desire, you 
 might have been right. My heart is with another; and even with a 
 splendid establishment at my command, I should not be vain, with such 
 a husband connected with it. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Charlotte, if the svstem of domestic tyranny which is 
 exercised in compelling a daughter to wed whom the parents will, is a 
 thing of the past, or of less civilized nations, this romance of attachment 
 which you profess is more surely a thing of the long gone and supersti- 
 tious past; it is still talked of .in books, I know thin covered books 
 and probably some young girls do imagine that the sentiment, as books 
 describe it, does still exist. They must fancy they experience it when 
 they have slight emotions of pleasure at meeting such or such a person ; 
 but I think even that is not often the case, now-a-days. It is one of the 
 best evidences of our enlightenment and high state of civilization and 
 common sense that there is no pretense, in the rational portion of com- 
 munity, of any such thing as is described as love in knight-errantry 
 books. The novels that describe any such passion as existing to-day, or 
 believed in to-day, have to join it with all those advantages to which I 
 have alluded. There is esteem and affection ; but, among sensible folks 
 to-day in our land, there is no such silly thing as love. 
 
 Charlotte Mother, were you ever in love ? or do you think you ever 
 were? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Never, I thank God; no one can really accuse me of 
 that ; it's an absurdity I never believed in, or gave expression of be- 
 lief in. 
 
 Charlotte Perhaps not ; but Father was in love ! 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I think not ; I never considered him such a fool. 
 
 Charlotte 0, Mother! you ought not to say that; for it was you he 
 was in love with. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan My dear, ours was a very sensible courtship one of es- 
 teem and mutual regard we had no nonsense about it. 
 
28 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Charlotte Ijncked up a bundle of letters on the top of the bookcase 
 bureau you moved into my room from yours, two or three months ago, 
 in the old house. They were letters from Father to you [laughing] ; I 
 read them every one of them. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You ought to be ashamed of yourself. 
 
 Charlotte I was ashamed of Father, Mother. I think he was so 
 silly! [laughing.'] "Why, I never could have dreamed that he was such 
 a poor, simple man. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Where is the package ? 
 
 Charlotte I burned the package. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You did very wrong to read those letters. Your father 
 was a foolish man to write them. But it is not at all proper for a mother 
 to talk with her daughter about matters before the parents' marriage ; it 
 is unpleasant, and productive of no good; children ought not to know 
 anything about those matters. 
 
 Charlotte I see: you'd like to change the subject, on the plea of bad 
 taste. 
 
 Mrs. B/yan Your father never got any encouragement from me to 
 make such a fool of himself, as I remember he did in some letters, which 
 I was very stupid in preserving. 
 
 Charlotte Ah ! but, Mother, you did encourage him [approaching her 
 mother]. There were one or two letters in the package that were from 
 you to-him ! 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You are mistaken. 
 
 Charlotte No. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You must be mistaken. If you had preserved the pack- 
 "age you would have found that you had misread the direction. Your 
 father sometimes wrote a very feminine hand. They were all his letters. 
 I presume you looked them over hastily,- knowing you were doing very 
 wrong all the while. I must go up stairs. 
 
 Charlotte Ah ! Mother, you cannot get off in that way. Although I 
 burned the package that is, although I burned the letters of Father's 
 which were in the package I preserved those of yours which I found 
 there. I knew you would not care to keep Father's trash, but I could 
 not tell but Father would like to keep your notes; and I have read them 
 over and over again, with the greatest delight. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Charlotte, where are those letters ? 
 
 Charlotte Do you confess, Mother ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Where are those letters? 
 
 Charlotte 0, Mother, you know you never wrote anything of the 
 kind that I describe; you are certain you never did to Father. You 
 know I was only joking ! ^ 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Charlotte, go and bring me those letters, at once. 
 
 Charlotte Why, did you really write them, Mother? Ha! ha! ha! 
 
 Mrs. Bryan [approaching her daughter threateningly, as CHARLOTTE 
 retreats toward the doorJ] Bring those letters down at once, or I'll have 
 you shut up in your room for a fortnight. 
 
 Charlotte How can you say so, when you want and expect me to en- 
 tertain Mr. Cural, to-night, at the party? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Til have you confined to your room for a fortnight. 
 
DEPRECIATION. 29 
 
 Charlotte Why, Mother, if I was only sure you wrote those letters, I 
 could take a fortnight's worth of fun out of them, solitary and alone. 
 Did you really write them ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You hussy, you ! bring me those letters, at once. 
 
 Charlotte Mother, I obey ! [Exit. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan The little fool 1 What shall I do with the girl ? She 
 always was a torment. To think that she should have deliberately read 
 those foolish letters of mine, which I now recollect were tied in the 
 bundle with her father's. How unfortunate that I didn't burn them long 
 ago, as I often proposed doing I 
 
 [Re-enter CHARLOTTE.] 
 
 Charlotte "Why, Mother, I cannot find the letters where I am confi- 
 dent I left them. I would have searched longer, but I thought you 
 would be anxious for me to come back. Come up stairs, Mother, and 
 help me look for them ; I am afraid I have mislaid them, where I shall 
 not be able to find them for a long time [glancing mischievously at her 
 mother]. I dare say I have put them away so very carefully that I shall 
 not be able to find them until some accident discovers them, or turns 
 them up for me. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You sit down here until your father comes, /will go up 
 and search your room ; I think /can find them. 
 
 Charlotte That's right, Mother. I will sit here. You had better go 
 up stairs, anyway, for I see Uncle Henry coming across the street. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan What of that ! 
 
 Charlotte Nothing ; except he might observe that you had been ex- 
 cited, and then he'd be apt to want to know the cause, and so forth, and 
 so forth. He might suspect, you know ! 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Suspect what! [approaching Charlotte, from the door, 
 through which she was about departing.'] Suspect what. You have not 
 told him of this, have you ? 
 
 Charlotte 0, Mother, we have had the jolliest times over the whole 
 correspondence! 0, such fun! 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You minx ! You hussey ! You thief! What do you 
 mean ? [Pursuing her daughter round the room and attempting to box her.~\ 
 
 [ Enter HENRY.] 
 
 Henry Here ! Here ! What's the row ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan [turning sharply upon Henry. ,] Henry Bryan, I want you 
 to pick up your duds and clear out of this house ; and never, never, en- 
 ter it again. Never presume to cross my threshold again, sir. 
 
 Henry Yery good. It will take me about a day to pack. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Don't leave a thing belonging to you in the house. 
 
 Henry Not a letter, madam. [Exit MRS. BRYAN, in towering passion.] 
 
 Henry [seating himself.] Discovered about those letters? 
 
 Charlotte Yes. 
 
 Henry You ought not to have let that out. 
 
 Charlotte I could not help it, Uncle Henry. It was utterly impos- 
 sible to hold it back. It came in so pat and irresistible, right in the 
 midst of one of Mother's tirades against sentimentality and romance, and 
 all that sort of thing. 
 3* 
 
30 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Henry 0, it came in as a matter of argument ? 
 
 Charlotte Just DO. 
 
 Henry ! Did you tell your Mother that you did not let me know 
 who the authors of the letters were, until you had finished the reading 
 of all of them to me? 
 
 Charlotte She did not give me a chance to explain anything, after the 
 secret was out. 
 
 Henry You must tell your Mother about that. For I would not be 
 guilty of prying, as she now supposes. The real fact is, I had heard 
 every one of them before. Alfred read them to me while he 
 was courting. But, I had forgotten them. Couldn't have identified 
 their writers. All love letters, like little babies, look alike at least 
 to the inexperienced ; dumpy and delicate, and very red in the face. 
 
 [Enter BRIDGET.] 
 
 Bridget Master Henry, the Lord pardon me ! But I've the small 
 bundle of copies. The Lord pardon me. I took them out of Miss Char- 
 lotte's bureau, myself; so there's no mortal sin done, except to myself. 
 I heard ye ; s laughing over them, and I tho't there was something mon- 
 strous queer in the copies, and, so, faith the Lord pardon me I tho't 
 I'd borrow them, yesterday, for Patrick to read to us. Sure, I didn't 
 see any harm of that. And I didn't intend any mortal sin in taking 
 them. 
 
 Charlotte Where are they now ? 
 
 Bridget I have them snug in my vest pocket. [Taking them out of 
 Tier bosom.'] Here they are, sure, and nothing the worst for our bit of a 
 trial to read them. God bless the mistress and master, we could not 
 make more than half out ; and that same we could not understand. 
 Sure, we tho't it was Miss Laura's writing, until we excidentaly over- 
 heard ye's and Miss Charlotte scraming over your own Mother's flesh 
 and blood, in her younger days. 
 
 Henry That will do for you, Bridget. Leave the letters upon the 
 table. [Bridget lays letter bundle on the card waiter.'] 
 
 Bridget I expect Mr. Henry, now there's two of us have warning? 
 
 Charlotte [laughing.] Yes, I can promise you warning. How dare 
 you take anything out of my bureau, without permission or direction? 
 
 Bridget Oh! Troth, you'll have your Mother's way of spache, on 
 that same point, when your turn comes. [Exit BRIDGET.] 
 
 Charlotte What impudence I How can I get those letters up stairs, 
 now? 
 
 Henry I'll take charge of their delivery to your Mother. You go 
 down into the dining-room for a few minutes, and I will send for your 
 Mother and explain matters for us all, myself in particular. 
 
 [Exit CHARLOTTE. HENRY rings bell and dispatches servant, who an- 
 swers, for MRS. BRYAN.] 
 
 [Enter MRS. BRYAN.] 
 
 Henry Your letters are on the table. It seems that Bridget had 
 them. She noticed some sport made over them, and took them 
 out of Charlotte's bureau, thinking her cousin,the coachman Pat- 
 trickcould read them. No harm done; they could not make 
 
DEPRECIATION. 31 
 
 them out. I ought to say, for myself what Charlotte must con- 
 firm I did not know that they were your letters until they had been 
 read to me, the night the laugh was had over them. Though I ought to 
 have recognized them Alfred read them to me years and years ago. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan He always was a fool for making a confident of you, 
 though you are his brother. 
 
 Henry Good afternoon, [going.] ' 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Dinner must be most ready. 
 
 Henry Do I dine with you, to day ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Why, certainly. I would not have Alfred know any- 
 thing about this. Don't tell him I told you to leave the house. 
 
 Henry Not for the world. I have too much consideration for his 
 feelings. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan And And don't go. 
 
 Henry No, indeed. I have too much consideration for your feelings. 
 
 [Exit HENRY.] 
 [Enter ALFRED.] 
 
 Mr. Bryan Ah! My dear, what is new in the thread and needle line, 
 to-day? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan The dress makers are in the girls' room at work, late as 
 it is. You can go and see for yourself. I think I have bought some 
 elegant patterns. But, Alfred, my dear, I want you to speak to Char- 
 lotte, this evening, without fail, in relation to her conduct toward Mr. 
 Cural, and her encouragement of that young fellow, Arthur. 
 
 Mr. Bryan I don't like the business. Do you seriously think Cural 
 would be a suitable match ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Of course I do. 
 
 Mr. Bryan I have my doubts about it ; even if his age be not 
 Counted an objection. As for Charlotte's encouragement to Arthur, why 
 that r s amounts to nothing. He is going away soon, in the army, ; and 
 if that match should not be a proper one, there will be abundance of time 
 and opportunity and occasion to break it. Let them part natu:ally, 
 without our saying anything to get up a morbid sympathy between 
 them ; and absence and new companions, such as we may choose, will 
 have all the desired effect in the way of removing her attachment or ro- 
 m mtic reg ets for that boy. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan But you see Mr. Cural expects a distinct answer from us 
 and from Charlotte at once. He will "setup" in superb style. You 
 know what we suffered from poverty in the early part of our married 
 life. Don't let us allow the possibility of such trials to our children 
 our daughters if we can prevent it. And now we can insure against 
 it for Charlotte. "Wealth and luxury are pressed in the suit for her. 
 Alfred, I want you to be sure to speak to Charlotte about this matter to- 
 night ; and I want you to strenuously urge her to accept Mr. Cural' s 
 proposition at once. You have a great deal more influence over her 
 than I have, I regret to say. She treats my arguments as if they were 
 contemptible. She is full of the nonsense of sentiment. 
 
 Mr. Bryan A good, true-hearted girl 1 I don't think you are right 
 about the suitableness of this match with Cural. But I will talk with 
 Charlotte about it. 
 
32 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Yon must urge it ! 
 
 Mr. Bryan So far as I can. 
 
 [Enter JANE.] 
 
 Jane Dinner is ready, madam. {Exit JANE. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Come, let us go down to dinner. I will arrange for you 
 to see Charlotte here this evening without interruption. Now, urge Mr. 
 Cural's favor upon her strongly, my dear. {Kissing Mr. B. 
 
 Mr. Bryan I will be down in a minute. You have the dinner served. 
 
 [Exit Mrs. BRYAN. 
 
 Mr. Bryan [throwing himself upon a lounge] heavens! my wife 
 is a heartless woman, I almost believe. That parents should decently 
 seek eligible marriages for their children, see to it that they are not 
 wedded to downright poverty, is right, right, right. But to marry my 
 dear, good daughter Charlotte to that old foreign debauche" 1 Why, if 
 Charlotte sought such a match instead of her mother, I would have her 
 kidnapped and taken to Japan for a three years' residence. I am glad 
 to believe she will be stubborn and unyielding against the proposition, 
 the very thought. So, I can talk and talk to suit her mother, and give 
 her oceans of good (bah ! bad) unheeded parental advice. God help 
 my child to see my insincerity, if her mother superintends our interview, 
 as I know she intends to. Let old Cural look elsewhere. There are 
 plenty of young misses who will jump for a runaway match with him. 
 Not my daughter ; not my dear, good Lotty. No. [Exit Mr. B. 
 
 [Enter CHARLOTTE.] 
 
 Charlotte I wonder what mother really hurried me through dinner for 
 so anxiously I Wanted me to come upjhere and stay, so as to entertain 
 any visitors that might call while the family were at dinner. She never 
 suggested anything of the kind before. I don't think that was the true 
 reason. I was not half through dinner. How troubled papa looks ! 
 He fairly seemed to shun my eyes. I am going to get him up in my 
 room to-night, and comb his hair and make him comfortable. I wonder 
 what mother could have been so anxious to have me come up here for I 
 To wait for visitors, if any called 1 Wait for visitors 1 Pshaw ! Well, 
 if a visitor call before they get through dinner, I will answer the door 
 bell. I didn't hesitate to do that every time in the old place. [Door 
 Ml rings.] I will answer it. Hold on, though ; I will look out and see 
 who it is first. [Looking out] Whoever it is, he or she is so close up 
 to the door, on the sill, that I can't see who it is or what it is, or anything 
 about it. It must be a man or a boy. A woman's dress would certainly 
 show, unless she has left off her hoops. It must be a man. If it is 
 that old Cural, I'll run and hide. [Door bell again rings.] There goes 
 the bell again. There's a hand on the bannister. It is-no -yes it's 
 a blue sleeve with brass buttons on the cuffs. It's Arthur it is Arthur I 
 It can't be possible mother knew he was coming. [Running to the door, 
 and calling out as she goes.] Jane I Jane I you need not answer the door 
 bell ; mother told me to stay up and see to visitors. Don't come up. 
 I'll see who is at the door. [Exit ; then re-enter CHARLOTTE, hand-in- 
 hand with ARTHUR.] Dear, dear Arthur, what has kept you away so 
 long? 
 
DEPRECIATION. 33 
 
 Arthur Ob, I've been on a long journey since I saw you last been 
 away three weeks. 
 
 Charlotte "Where have you been ! 
 
 Arthur Up the country would want a map of the country to tell 
 you where. But I was at Sacramento a week. 
 
 Charlotte You got my letters then, didn't you. I directed them all 
 to Sacramento. 
 
 Arthur No ; and I called every day at the express and post office 
 every day I was there ; and I was there all of last week. And I wrote 
 you every day. 
 
 Charlotte Not a letter ! I sent my letters by mail. 
 
 Arthur That's strange. I am afraid I shall have to write a little note 
 to the newspapers cursing Postmaster Perkins. 
 
 Charlotte I wouldn't. I never got a letter from you. 
 
 Arthur That's very strange. 
 
 Charlotte Ah, no ! I think I can at least account for my failure to 
 receive your letters, without attributing any blame to the San Francisco 
 Postmaster or any of his clerks. [.*4sec?e.] (Aha! mother, I am a letter 
 thief, am I ? New letters against old, then. I am afraid I shall get a 
 hate for my mother.) 0, Arthur, sit down. 0, how happy I am to see 
 you ! [Putting her arms around Arthur, and sobbing, her head on his 
 shoulder.'} You must not think I am silly because I cry. 
 
 Arthur I guess not. I 'guess not ! Don't you know but you don't 
 know but it's a fact Michelet and the woman I forget her name 
 the woman who wrote a book against Michelet's theory of love, and Mrs. 
 Farnham, and Swedenborg, and all the other ancient and modern writers 
 on love, recommend distinctly that a man do not believe a woman loves 
 him except she cries very much, once in a while every few days in 
 his presence, or when she accidentally meets her lovyer cries without 
 any sort of occasion, or reason for crying. When there is what would 
 naturally be supposed to be an occasion for crying, she must not cry, 
 that is, if she loves you. Then she mu=t be tearless, and very hard and 
 flinty-looking ; stone countenance. That's a scientific statement, Lotty, 
 dear. So, cry away. [Kissing her. 
 
 Charlotte Ah ! Arthur, there is an occasion for me to cry, I am afraid. 
 
 Arthur What is it, pray? 
 
 Charlotte Never mind. Tell me how you are getting along. When 
 will you be mustered in ? 
 
 Arthur I expect to be mustered in sometime this week. I am only 
 waiting for the captain of my company to come down from the country, 
 with some recruits that I know he has already obtained. By the way, 
 did you know I had been promoted ? 
 
 Charlotte " Promoted !" before you are mustered in ? 
 
 Arthur Yes; I have got a commission as first lieutenant. I have 
 got the commission in my pocket, I think. [Searching for it. Meanwhile 
 MR. BRYAN enters seeing the " company,' 1 ' 1 hesitates near the door a mo- 
 ment, and then retires unperceived.] No, I have left it at the house. I'll 
 bring it up the next time. I came particularly to ask you to take a ride 
 this evening. If you will go, I will come up with the buggy in twenty 
 minutes. 
 
34 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Charlotte 0, I shall be delighted ! [MRS. BRYAN passes the parlor 
 door, noticing, with evident amazement and indignation, the " company" 
 passing by unperceived']. I'll go to the door with you, and let you out 
 quietly, so that the folks who are at dinner will not have any notice that 
 it is you. I'll tell them I let in one of the seamstresses; I don't want 
 them to know you came here just now. Then you can drive up, and 
 come in and ask me to ride, as if you hadn't seen me before for an age. 
 
 Arthur Why so? 
 
 Charlotte No matter now ; I will explain it all to you when, we are 
 out. [Ex. ARTHUK and CHARLOTTE. 
 
 [Enter MR. BRYAN, closely followed by MRS. BRYAN.] 
 
 Mrs. Bryan And you allowed them to sit here talking together ; and 
 of course you were not man enough to improve the opportunity to give 
 that young brass-buttons a substantial hint that his presence here wasn't 
 desirable, or to be permitted here any more ! 
 
 Mr. Bryan How did you know he was here ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I looked into the room as I came up ; I expected, as a 
 matter of course, to see you here with Charlotte. 
 
 Mr. Bryan Why didn't you improve the opportunity to give the 
 young man the hint that his presence here was no longer desirable ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Mr. Bryan, you have sometimes the most provoking way 
 of answering me back that could be conceived of. 
 
 Mr. Bryan My dear, a man of very ordinary wit can aptly answer a 
 scold, if he feels disposed to do so. But silence, no doubt, is silver. I could 
 have very readily entered the room when I saw Arthur here, if the pur- 
 pose on which I was coming had not made me choke with embarrass- 
 ment and shame. Here were two young spring-birds, billing and cooing ; 
 I could not drive one away, and ask the other to mate with an old turkey 
 buzzard. I couldn't do it right at that moment, and under the circum- 
 stances of surprise, my dear. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Why, you are getting quite dramatic and poetical, ain't 
 you, now ? What a pity you were not a son of Lord Byron's, your 
 name and genius are so much like his. Mr. Bryan, do you intend to 
 fulfill your promise to me, and advise Charlotte as I told you to? 
 
 Mr. Bryan As far as you have any promises from me, I intend to 
 fulfill. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Then here is your opportunity without excuse. I hear 
 Charlotte coming. I am going into the back parlor. [Exit Mrs. B. 
 
 [Enter CHARLOTTE.] 
 
 Mr. Bryan [Drawing his daughter to his side on the sofa] My dear 
 child, who was that that was here a few minutes ago ? 
 
 Charlotte [Looking intently into her father's face] Father, I cannot 
 deceive you ; it was Arthur. 
 
 Mr. Bryan I thought so, my dear. 
 
 Charlotte Did you not know it was? 
 
 Mr. Bryan My child, I cannot deceive you about that at least; I did. 
 Charlotte, are you engaged to Arthur ? 
 
 Charlotte I am, father. Is he not a good, worthy young man? 
 
DRPRECIATION. 35 
 
 Mr. Bryan He is a bright boy. But he is without means ; no capi- 
 tal ; no profession. He has no prospects adequate for the support of a 
 house. 
 
 Charlotte Why, [laughing,'] of course we never dreamed of being 
 married right away ; not until his term of service is out. Then he has 
 the promise and guarantee of a situation in a banking house, where his 
 salary will be sufficient to maintain us, and more, in very good style. 
 0, father, I often thought I never suggested it to Arthur, and I know 
 he never thought of it, for he loved me and asked me to marry him when 
 we were poor, when most people thought we were very poor but I 
 have often thought that you could and would set him up in business 
 when he came home from the army. You know he understands mer- 
 chandizing very well. 0, father, father, don't you tell me I mast give 
 up Arthur I I am afraid of that. [Sobbing on her father's breast. 
 
 Mr. Bryan My child, you know your father loves you; I only seek 
 your good. 
 
 Charlotte I know you do really seek my good. 
 
 Mr. Bryan I think it very imprudent in you to be engaged to Arthur 
 tinder the present circumstances. It is not right that a boy like him 
 should bind you to such an engagement. You are quite young yet; 
 Arthur is going away, to be gone for a couple of years, at least ; and he 
 should leave you free, and you should feel perfectly free to make your 
 choice elsewhere. You must tell him so, Lotty dear. [Kissing her.] 
 "Will you ? For you: father's sake, who loves you, Lotty, and who ad- 
 vises you in affection. 0, you know not how much I love you. There 
 is something like a sharp instrument that goes deeper and deeper into 
 my heart every day, and it leaves a seam that is filled with larger love 
 for my children. 0, my God 1 is it so ? But for love of them, I should 
 be wounded to death. 
 
 Charlotte Father, father, I understand you. Let me tell Arthur all 
 you say, and then I will tell him firmly and positively that our engage- 
 ment is broken for the present. But I want him to understand that you 
 are not the one who breaks it. 
 
 Mr. Bryan But, my child, I am the one that asks you to do this. I 
 really wish you to break this engagement. 
 
 Charlotte Really, Father? Truly, Father? 
 
 Mr. Bryan Really truly I 
 
 Charlotte Well, dear father, it is broken ! 
 
 Mr. Bryan To-night? 
 
 Charlotte To-night. Arthur will be here in a few minutes; and I 
 will dismiss him. I was going out to ride with him ; but I will call him 
 in here, and break with him at once, give him back this ringl I feel 
 it must be done at once. 
 
 Mr. Bryan Go out and ride with him, my dear. Tell him while you 
 are riding ; it may be easier for you to do it then. 
 
 Charlotte [After meditation] I believe it will [Her father kisses her 
 upon the forehead.] Father, I know you are suffering! I love you. 
 There is nothing, nothing, father, you can ask of me that I will not do. 
 Nothing that it is possible for me to do. 
 
36 DEPRECIATION". 
 
 Mr. Bryan I am not deserving of so good a child [Embraces his 
 daughter, who rises then and retires.'] 
 
 [After a short interval MRS. BRYAN enters.] 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Have you done as you agreed ? 
 
 Mr. Bryan Charlotte has promised to dismiss Arthur, and to-night. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Has she promised to accept Mr. Cural ? 
 
 Mr. Bryan I did not ask her ; and, [rising and turning sharply upon 
 his wife] so help me God, I would not have asked her such a thing, and 
 if she had asked, me the question for advice for herself, I would have an- 
 swered her "No! " And, 0, it tore my heart to ask of her what I did; 
 and I lied 1 curses on me, I lied ! 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Mr. Bryan, you're a fool ! 
 
 Mr. Bryan Thank you, Mrs. Bryan. Thank you. Clara, Clara, dar- 
 ling. My poor Child! Heaven help you I [Exit MR. BRYAN.] 
 
 Mrs. Bryan The fool I He'd better take a dose of medicine. 
 
 [Exit MRS. BRYAN at one door. Enter BRIDGET BURNS at another door.] 
 
 Bridget No 1 Divil a bit of a fool is the master. And, if its medicine 
 he wants, sure, and, he shouldn't have a dose of those old letters you 
 palavered him with, years ago, and before you were as wise as you are 
 BOW. Ah 1 And it's then he was a fool and, as Patrick says, " a domned 
 fool." 0, but he's the fond father I And she's the horrible one bad 
 luck to the heritic praste that banned her to so good a man. And the 
 childers are as good childers as ever drew breath in a free country, where 
 the wages are rasonable good, sweet, beautiful bairns. And it's the 
 father that loves them. And it's the mother would send them to the 
 divil on two sticks, hobbling about the pavement. The likes of them old 
 rats, spying round for young girls, when they ought to be engaging ser- 
 vice for repose of their dirty souls. Ha 1 Here's the old woman coming 
 back again. She's up stairs and down stairs, like the witch's broom 
 handle. [Exit BRIDGET.] 
 
 [Enter MRS. BRYAN, soon followed by CHARLOTTE, dressed for a ride.] 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Why, Charlotte, what is the meaning of this ? "Why are 
 you dressed for going out ? Don't you intend to keep your promise to 
 your father ? 
 
 Charlotte I promised father to break with Arthur to-night. Arthur 
 was coming to take me out to ride. Father said I had better ride out 
 with Arthur, and tell him while we were riding. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Pshaw! Nonsense 1 Stay in. Tell him here. I would 
 not have you seen riding out with him. Stay here, and tell him here, 
 when he comes. 
 
 Charlotte I will, Mother. I expect it is as well. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan It is better for you to tell him here. Break off this 
 school-girl folly, in your own doors I [Exit] 
 
 [CHARLOTTE sits on sofa. Door bell rings.] 
 
 Charlotte [starting up.] Ah 1 How very quick he is. I have a 
 good mind to go out with him, and marry him to-night. No, I will keep 
 my word to my father, though every farewell word to Arthur came to 
 
DEPRECIATION. 3*7 
 
 lips like coals of fire. ! Sordid world of San Francisco, are there no 
 love-tragedies within your walls ? !N one ! None ! 
 [Enter ARTHUR.] 
 
 Arthur Come ! I have a splendid turn-out ; and there's a full moon 
 to-night; and we can ride until 9 or 10. Cornel 
 
 Charlotte Arthur, sit down a moment! [Arthur takes a seat, with 
 manner indicative of surprise.] Arthur, I am not going out to ride with 
 you to-night. I dressed myself to go out, as you see. I was going to 
 ride out with you and tell you something, something very important. 
 But, Mother thought I had best tell you here; and there is no starting to 
 ride after it is told. Arthur! [Arthur rises with evident apprehension,'] 
 Arthur ! we went to school together. We have known each other from, 
 childhood. We are only big children now, though I have left school and 
 you wear the uniform of an army officer. Well well Arthur 
 
 [choking for utterance.'] 
 
 ArthurWell I What ? What is it, Lotty ? 
 
 Charlotte Arthur, you are about going away with your Company ? 
 
 Arthur I am. 
 
 Charlotte Arthur, when you go away you must leave me free ; leave 
 me without any engagement, as I now I now, release all vows to you. 
 I have promised to give this to you, and require this of you. I know 
 you will grant what I ask. Arthur, dear, I give you back your promise. 
 I will send you all your presents to-morrow, and you may send me the 
 pictures you have of me. 
 t Arthur [whirling around.] Tou are not joking? 
 
 Charlotte No. 
 
 Arthur I thought not. I had a kind of prescience of this. And, 
 how pleasant you were only a few minutes ago. 
 
 Charlotte It is only withiu a few minute?, and since you left here, 
 that I have been told to say this to you. But I have had a fear 0, so 
 long that at last I should have to tell you this. 
 
 Arthur I know how it is. I understand it all. [walking excitedly.] 
 That old Cural, that lovely old imp of Front street, has been prowling 
 about the premises ever since your father came to riches. And he knew 
 about that as soon as your father did. I know exactly how it is, and 
 how it will be. Charlotte, your parents want you to marry old Cural. 
 And you'll do it! 
 
 Charlotte Never, Arthur. 
 
 Arthur Yes, you will. You will do as Ellen Cranmerton aud Ellen 
 Dillaner and twenty others I could name old schoolmates of yours 
 have done within the past year. You will marry a withered old man, 
 who has gold, gold, and who you think will give you a heavy purse 
 every day. But you're mistaken there. I had fear I should lose you ; 
 but I drove it away, because it came up in this form, and I could not be- 
 lieve you would follow that suit. 
 
 Charlotte Nor will I. Listen to me, Arthur. We have vows given 
 to each other. Those who have some right to direct me at my age, in 
 this matter of fixed choice for life, whom I ought not now directly to 
 disobey, so long as they do not try to force me to wed the man I would 
 not, they tell me to give you back your promise, and ask you to disen- 
 4 
 
38 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 gage me. So far I yield to their judgment and command. But here I 
 make no vow, but an oath, before you and high heaven, that I will not 
 marry Cural, nor such a man as he no, though he have a ton of gold 
 for his suit, and death were the penalty of refusal. I make you my wit- 
 ness here to that resolution, and in your hands will leave the right of 
 absolving me from it. Be assured and certain that you were wrong in 
 allowing yourself to suspect for a moment that my cause for breaking 
 with you had any thought of such a marriage. 
 
 Arthur Not your intention now, probably. But it is for the reason 
 that Cural wants you that your father and mother urge you to break off 
 with me. Bye and by, (not now), they expect you to become entirely 
 reconciled to their will and pleasure, and marry this old fellow. 
 
 Charlotte I have given my oath. And my father does not encourage 
 snch a proposition. No, he neither expects nor wishes it. I believe he 
 would not permit it, if he could prevent it, even if I voluntarily sought it. 
 
 Arthur Then it is your mother. 
 
 Charlotte Arthur, I have no right to speak ill or harshly of my 
 mother. Then you have no right to do such a thing in my presence. 
 
 Arthur 0, Cuarlotte Bryan, do you know what you are saying? 
 
 [Bursting into tears, seating himself, and sobbing. 
 
 Charlotte Arthur, do you recollect that Michelet, or " that woman 
 who answered him" for I have read them both since you first told rne 
 you had read them says that when a man cries heartily on being disap- 
 pointed in love, his sorrow will be very easily cured by absence? 
 
 Arthur 0, curses on Michelet, or the woman that was fool enough to 
 answer him ! "Why, Charlotte, [rising and turning upon her,] Charlotte, 
 I thought you really loved me. I thought you a warm hearted, but 
 string-willed girl. 
 
 Charlotte God knows I am strong willed. 
 
 Arthur I thought you loved me deeply. I really had, as I find now, 
 no idea that with the freedom of such a community as this, you would 
 throw off your accepted lover without a good moral reason. Now, I 
 begin to see exactly how it is. You never loved me. You may not in- 
 tend to marry Cural, but you at least want to be free of choice during 
 my absence, so it some one better suited to your fancy (for your are 
 heartless) should ask your hand, you can accept. You think it quite 
 probable you may meet with some one you could love better, so you im- 
 prove this very good opportunity to cast me off. 
 
 Charlotte You do not reason very well, in your bitterness. If I were 
 capable of this which you put down to me, in this or any other commu- 
 nity the bond of promise between you and me would have been of light 
 account in any event. But I did not so esteem them. I not love you, 
 Arthur 1 0, that is a great wrong to say so. But I must be free, for I 
 have promised it to one who asked me in suffering who'll have quiet 
 and peace by it, for a little season at least. I not love you 1 Arthnr 
 Hassard, now that we part as friends merely, I feel that I can and should 
 tell you what I never expected you to hear from me. I have loved you 
 from the first consciousness of womanhood; the first realizing sense of 
 love in my heart distinctly pictured you as the object, or as a very part 
 of the controlling emotion ; and I have nurtured that love on a sure 
 
DEPRECIATION. 39 
 
 knowledge of noble deeds and manly endurance and true ambition. 
 While your mother and sister were living at the East you labored here, 
 almost alone in this new country, to support them and to give that sister 
 means for a liberal education. You bent your energies to a pursuit and 
 to daily tasks that did not require for their following the talent you pos- 
 sessed; in which you could not have intervals for study to fit you for 
 the higher walks which you were worthy to tread, and toward which 
 you must have been consciously ambitious. I saw you when the intelli- 
 gence came of the death of that mother and sister, by a dreadful acci- 
 dent. I knew that your anguish was terrible ; but you made no great 
 demonstration of it that could indicate the depth of your grief to other 
 eyes than mine. You did not sit down sulkily and grieve. 0, Ar- 
 thur, more than all, how I loved you for the sacrifice you then made 
 and the affections and aspirations you tht-n exhibited. I knew it was a 
 sacrifice that difference in money did not tell. You relinquished a posi- 
 tion where you were earning and receiving $200 a month from a partial 
 employer, to enter the service of your government, in the army on 
 this coast, which was then sadly in need of men ; and you first took and 
 were content to remain with a soldier's pay. I knew that when you 
 were commissioned a lieutenant, you took all the savings you had accu- 
 mulated for the bringing out of your mother and sister and the purchas- 
 ng of a little homestead for them, and expended it in the recruiting -serv- 
 ice of your government and country. And you have expended all that 
 sum and nearly a year of labor in this service. If an American girl would 
 not love (0, no less a word than love!) the handsome young man who would 
 do this for his country, under such circumstances, on this distant coast, she 
 would not only be disloyal, she would be utterly without sense of appre- 
 ciation of what is most noble and glorious in man. Arthur, T am not 
 worthy of you. Bel ; eving in your heart that, after all, I suffered most, 
 you could bear and determine to leave me with light words upon your 
 lips, with affected apprehension that I would wed one destitute of any 
 claim to the hand of youth in marriage. 0, don't reproach me, and 
 don't think too well of me. I cannot say, forget me ! You will not 
 forget me. I shall never forget you, Arthur ; never cease to love you 
 never 1 
 
 Arthur Dear, noble girl! [embracing her] and yet I ought not to 
 accept such a eulogy, though it be made of parting words. You must 
 be right in believing that it is best for you to obey your parents' wish, 
 best for our engagement to be broken. I absolve you from your vow 
 absolutely, cheerfully, cheerfully if not willingly; for you require it will 
 not even say that I shall hold in my heart any hope of a new promise 
 and its fulfi Iment, in time to come. Farewell, Lotty dear. When I am 
 away I shall have a secret talisman in my heart, though your promise 
 be gone. No one will dream of it, but you and I God bless you ! 
 Fare -.veil! Farewell! [Kisses he%.] Speak my name once more, Lotty I 
 
 Charlotte Arthur! 
 
 Arthur Farewell ! farewell, Lotty ! 
 
 [Embracing her. Exit ARTHUR. 
 
 [CHARLOTTE stands for a moment, sobbing looks up mournfully and 
 despairingly ; then moves toioard the door. Approaching step is heard. 
 CHARLOTTE turns from the door.] 
 
40 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Charlotte Hark ! I think that is the footstep of that hateful man. I 
 did not hear the bell. But it is his footstep. My God ! Spare me the 
 sight of him, now ! 
 
 [Enter MR. BRYAN. Pauses a moment."] 
 
 Mr. Bryan Charlotte! 
 
 Charlotte [Turns and falls into Ms arms, exclaiming : ] Father ! 
 
 Mr. Brgan My child! [Tenderly embraces her.] 
 
 ACT IV. 
 
 [Six months' interval of time between 3d and 4th Acts.] 
 
 SCENE I. PARLOR in the house of the BRYANS. 
 
 [Enter HENRY.] 
 
 Henry -"Well, here I am, delegated by circumstances and their crea- 
 ture, wbo is my unfortunate younger frater, to inform the female portion 
 of this wealthy and aristocratic house of six months' standing of cer- 
 tain unpleasant facts, which sum up as follows: Assets, nothing ; and 
 the good habit of ''pay as you go," (according to my advice) resulting 
 in, Debts, nothing. A square stand-off for a get-off. Now, although 
 this seems on the outside to be a disagreeable task, I rather like it, and 
 I have thought over it for a whole night. In the first place, it is reliev- 
 ing Alfred of the secret of his downfall, which he could not himself an- 
 nounce or confess until it was proved by common report, so miserably 
 sensitive is he to the conjugal upbraidings of Mrs. B. ; Secondly, it is 
 taking the ruffles and flounces and braid from Mrs. Bryan's dresses; and 
 I owe her several, which this will liquidate. I am very thankful that I 
 was born with a malevolent disposition. Thirdly, this furnishes an un- 
 get-roundable reason one which must be practically conclusive why 
 Charlotte should not be forced to marry old Cural, and for the whole 
 family's sake levy on his cursed old money bags, if he has any. Yes, 
 yes, altogether this is a very pleasant and congenial duty, which, under 
 the special administration of Providence, has been consigned to me. 
 And then, too, after waiting a few hours for the force of natural lamen- 
 tations to expend itself, then to open up a way to escape from what 
 Mrs. B. will consider horrible shame, on conditions tyrannically my 
 own; conditions, which will secure my brother's and my niece's peace, 
 and enable me to hold my own. For I can't lecture where I have com- 
 mand; and that is precisely where Mrs. B. and myself differ. Halloo! 
 Now for it ! Here comes the Madam. 
 
 [Enter MRS. BRYAN.] 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Why, Henry, I am glad to see you this morning. Alfred 
 said you wanted to speak to me, and I was going down to the office 
 this noon so that I might catch you there and get your word. Alfred 
 seemed so nervous when he told me that you wanted to speak to me, 
 
DEPRECIATIO 
 
 that I have had considerable uneasiness in anticipation of it. And what 
 ha kept you away from the city so long? 
 
 Henry That's right. He ought to have set you on pins by his man- 
 ner. I venture to say that he is slightly afraid of you. That, I think, 
 is fchown in the fact that you and he are not, strictly, confidants. It 
 would do very well for him to tell you that he had grown rich, all of a 
 sudden though I contended that that communication was a great mis- 
 take: but he daresn't tell you he had failed! 
 
 Mrs. Bryan What! Henry! 
 
 Henry NoJ He was afraid to tell you that he was a poor man 
 again almost as poor as when you married him twenty years ago in our 
 pleasant little village in New York State. _ He hired me to tell you this, 
 and all about it as much as you were curious to know. He paid me 
 in advance. I wouldn't undertake it without payment in advance, and 
 an additional insurance of a thousand dollars on my life-premium. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Do you mean to say that Alfred is broke ? 
 
 Henry Verily. Alfred, your lawful husband, Alfred Bryan, the 
 broker he, he has broke. He is not worth a red riffle. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan. How do you know this? 
 
 Henry Among other evidences, I have his word for it the word of 
 an honest man, 'though he has been a broker: the word of a sad, up- 
 right man, 'though he is your husband. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan [After a pame.] Well, Charlotte had a dream. She 
 dreamed it would be so, night before last. Ah I when she told me of it 
 I laughed and said dreams went by contraries. 
 
 Henry That's superstition. The natural interpretation, the rational 
 interpretation is straight forward. No wonder poor Charlotte dreamed 
 of it; she has sense she saw the extravagance and foolish display of 
 the house; and she wanted to be poor, no doubt she prayed to be poor, 
 in order to get rid of that cursed Cural. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan [^sicfe.] (Oh ! that, now, is our only reliance.) Is it 
 generally known that Alfred has failed? 
 
 Henry No, Madam Bryan, it is not. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I have fixed the wedding day for next Monday. We 
 must keep this concealed until then. Mr. Cural has promised to settle 
 on Charlotte regular money enough to keep up this house three times 
 over, and once married to Charlotte, outside of the legal settlement, I 
 can take care that he expresses due gratitude to me by his expenses. 
 
 Henry What! In Heaven's name, you would not live on him? 
 [Aside.'] (This puts my plan out of joint.) 
 
 Mrs. Bryan -Well, he can take and keep up this house, and our family 
 can go back to nearly the old style without any one's noticing it. 
 
 Henry Mrs. Bryan, I have this news to tell you, and I have some 
 things to say specially to you of my own judgment, necessary for you 
 to hear and act consistently with. You must realize that your hus- 
 band's loss of fortune is entire and absolute, and this fact must be matter 
 of street notoriety in less than three days from this date in Christendom. 
 Nothing can prevent that. Make up your mind and make your bets 
 accordingly. This house must be given up. You can't keep it under 
 any contrivance. Old Cural, even if he should be disposed (as he won't 
 
 4* 
 
42 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 be) to abide by the matrimonial arrangement made for your daughter in 
 the hour of your great prosperity, will not keep it; for he has already 
 engaged, in writing, another house, less costly than this, contingent on 
 his marrying within a month. The probabilities of course are,. however, 
 that he will throw up the agreement on learning of Alfred's financial 
 crash. And if I were in your place, I would take a smart advantage of 
 him by being first to suggest the break. Worldly pride, even, which 
 should stand you in some service now, and truth and decency, which 
 always argued against this unwholesome match, agree in recommending 
 this action. Mrs. Bryan, Clara, if you will only adopt this course in 
 regard to this matter, it will evince a returning or born good sense that 
 will insure your happiness and comfort hereafter. I know that. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan [Sobbing.] 0, dear ! I think Alfred should have told me 
 about this. 
 
 Henry So do I. But he disliked to do it. He asked me to do it. 
 He begged me to do it. I have done it thoroughly, and with a great 
 deal of satisfaction. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You are a wretch 1 I don't expect anybody will gloat 
 over our misfortunes half as much as you will. 
 
 Henry Nor I, either. I tell you it has afforded me a great deal of 
 pleasure. The "bust" has come just at the right time, and it has been 
 perfect. Owing to my persistent advice and sometimes my actual in- 
 terference you have kept your bills paid up from month to month. 
 There is a moral satisfaction in that, which only Alfred and myself ap- 
 preciate I But you were giving strong symptoms of a desire and inten- 
 tion to spend far beyond even the great income that you had. Had 
 your fall been delayed a year, you would have had a magnificent ruin, 
 involving hundreds of innocent parties in distress and penury. As it is, 
 I congratulate you, the "bust" is in good time to let you out with every 
 debt paid, and, perhaps, enough honestly saved to purchase you a very 
 comfortable little homestead, and that's all. I don't think I ever knew 
 so opportune an occurrence, of its kiod. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I am almost inclined to disbelieve what you say. 
 
 Henry You would disbelieve it if you could ; but you know even I 
 could not be guilty of a practical joke on such a matter. I promised 
 Alfred the information should be imparted in due, formal style, consist- 
 ent with the magnificence of the losses, and in a consoling manner, such 
 as I have adopted ; and having duly informed you, I can tell the rest of 
 the family, if you desire me to do it. 
 
 * Mrs. Bryan 0, by all means; make yourself generally useful in 
 posting the girls in the kitchen. I authorize you to give them all notice 
 to quit next week, which is at the end of their mouth. 
 
 Henry Then you will tell Charlotte and Laura ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan No, I will not. 
 
 Henry I must be asked by you to tell them, or I shall Cleave their 
 "posting" to you, or the hearing of street gossip. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I beg you to tell them, and at once. Here comes Laura 
 now. I will go. [Exit. 
 
 [Enter LAURA.] 
 
 Henry Laura, your school examinations close this month, don't they? 
 
DEPRECIATION. 43 
 
 Laura Ye?, uncle. 
 
 Henry-xrThen you will be ready to go into the business of teaching 
 yourself, 1 1 am acquainted with three of the members of the Board of 
 Education, and I will open on your succession to the first vacancy. I 
 will bring you home to-night the Declaration of Dependence, which they 
 require to be signed by the female teachers. You can look over it, and 
 prepare your conscience accordingly. 
 
 Laura Why, uncle, what do you mean? I am not going to teach 
 school. I have no idea of it. 
 
 Henry That is just the idea you must get ; the best thing you can 
 think of. Your father has fallen from wealth. He's poor, Laura ; poor 
 as a church that don't get up a lottery or a fandango once a month. 
 
 Laura Papa broke ! [Dropping her pile of scftoolbooks. 
 
 Henry Stocks have gone down and your father has gone up. See- 
 saw! That's the way of this little world, Laura. 
 
 Laura I will sit right down, and have a good cry. 
 
 Henry Do, Laura ; that's sensible. 
 
 Laura I was going to ask mamma and papa to go out next Saturday 
 and look at " Kisling Place." I was in hopes pa might buy it. You 
 know it's for sale ; and it's such a beautiful place : gold fish ponds with 
 seats around them, fountains, canaries, monkeys, black swans, ostriches, 
 and peacocks, and flowers until you can't rest. 0, dear 1 
 
 [Sitting down and crying, 
 
 Henry A delightful place, I know. Magnificent prospect 1 It's 
 boarded high, like a harem or nunnery; but when you climb on the top 
 of the bird-roost or pump, you have gorgeous surroundings. Frog-lakes 
 to the front of you, frog-lakes to the left of you, with a fort for a jump- 
 ing off place from the cars in the near distance ; grand blanket factory, 
 exuberant of smoke, ditto ; and from the glorious old ocean rolls in an. 
 occasional eastern sea breeze, exquisitely perfumed by the beef-bazaars 
 on Brannan street. And so cheap! Only $150,000 for the whole con- 
 cern. The lone ostrich, that you see twice and call a pair, cost a thous- 
 and, and the golden-headed pheasant is worth its weight in gold. It is 
 dreadful to contemplate what a purchase your poor father is put out of. 
 Too bad ! 
 
 Laura Uncle Henry, you're mocking me ; and I don't think it right. 
 
 Henry Not a bit of it, sweet Laura. I am only expatiating on the 
 mournfulness of the loss, taking your own particular ideas and plans of 
 happiness into consideration. 
 
 Laura 0, dear! dear! what will poor mamma say? 
 
 Henry She's had her say ; that is, her first say. I have told her. 
 
 Laura Did she cry ? [Looking up from her sobbing. 
 
 Henry Well, I didn't exactly see it. I couldn't say positively. 
 
 Laura She ought to cry. If she didn't cry hard, I won't cry at all. 
 I will go right up to her room. [Rising and exit. 
 
 Henry That's a sensible girl. Why should she snivel if her mother 
 don't? But the worst task of revelation is to come. Poor Charlotte! 
 Though I think and know it will all result for her peace and good, and 
 though I believe she will soon see it in that light, and has often hoped 
 vaguely for some such stroke, she naturally will have more reason than 
 
44 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 any of the rest to feel chagrined. Every circumstance connected with 
 her life since this dreadful rise in the family has been of a character to 
 aggravate her suffering on learning of this downfall in her father's for- 
 tunes. She has been petted by her mother as a mode of coaxing her 
 into obedience to her will. Yes, "petted" is the only word; for the girl 
 has become peevish, and the mother's treatment has not been that of 
 wise and clear affection and sympathy Her true and noble lover has 
 been cast off at her father's forced request, and I expect, so far as the 
 young man knows, with her willing consent ; and she has been currently 
 announced, without challenge from her, as the future wife of a venerable 
 scrip-book and money-bag ; and after this is sure to follow his ostenta- 
 tious or contemptuous rejection of her. That's an immortal sweet in the 
 gall, at all events; sugar in the wormwood. What an outrage is almost 
 weekly perpetrated in this city ! For one conscience-flattering reason or 
 another, innocent spring-time is married to debauched winter. Devilish 1 
 Thank God! one brand is snatched from the buruiug by this clutch of 
 gold from this house. 
 
 [Enter JANE ] 
 
 Jane. Where's Mrs. Bryan, I wonder? Mr. Cural is in the other 
 parlor. But, I suppose he is waiting for Charlotte to come in. 1 told 
 him she was out when I went to the door; but he said he would come 
 in and wait for her. 
 
 Henry You need not apologise to me for letting the man in. Ask him 
 to come in here and wait. [Exit Jane.] Lucky; as Mantalini would 
 say, " Demned Lucky." The very man of men for me to see, right now, 
 and right here. It will be an act of humanity in the gross, to push him 
 out with this intelligence before he sees Charlotte again. It may be she 
 has heard of the matter while she is out, to-day. If that should be so, 
 as is likely, her meeting with him here would be painful in the extreme, 
 whether he had really heard of it or not. But, I don't know. A girl 
 of nineteen, that can support the idea as I think she now does of mar- 
 ry ng ;md living with a man of his age and beauty, must have a cultivated 
 courage that will do for all sorts of sudden turns in human affairs. Ah ! 
 here comes the old chap. Now for a dose of saltpetre before the parson's 
 benediction can possibly come in. 
 
 [Enter MR. CURAL ] 
 
 Cural Why, Mr. Bryan,*Mr. Henry Byran, you here? Ah! [draw- 
 ing up chair and seating himself.'] I am very glad to see you, and have 
 an opportunity of talking with you. The fact is, I have wanted to talk 
 with you for some time past ; but you seemed to be a little distant, and 
 I did not press your acquaintance. Now, that it is generally known that 
 I am to marry your neice, I am determined to cultivate you. I suspect, 
 really I have suspected, my dear sir, that you have entertained half a 
 prejudice against me? Ha? 
 
 Henry There you are mistaken by half, Mr. Cural. [Jswfe] (If my 
 antipathy has riot been a whole one, then there is no such thing as a 
 sound integer.) I am glad to meet you here, and just now, Mr. Cural. 
 I was saying that to myself as you came in. Before it becomes a matter 
 of general notoriety, I wish to apprise you particularly of certain facts, 
 
DEPRECIATION. 45 
 
 or of a certain fact that will, I imagine, largely contribute to your stock 
 of information affecting your prospects or proposals for the future. Do 
 you know that my brother, Alfred Bryan, is a ruined man financially 
 played out? 
 
 Cured [rising.'] I did not. Do you ? 
 
 Henry I do. I know it positively. It is an entire, absolute failure. 
 
 Cural How did you know it first? Before it was generally suspected, 
 even? 
 
 Henry Naturally. As his brother ; and myself slightly and soonest 
 cramped by his downfall. 
 
 Cural I can't believe it. 
 
 Henry You may rely upon it. 
 
 Gural How much loss? 
 
 Henry A hundred thousand. But almost 'entirely, if not entirely a 
 personal loss. No involvements, I think, outside of a trifle of my own. 
 
 Cural And what is the cause, then ? 
 
 Henry Depreciation, sir! Depreciation I Depreciation I 
 . Cural The devil ! How long since you knew this ? 
 
 Henry May be a fortnight. 
 
 Cural I can't believe it. 
 
 Henry You ought, for it is the simple truth. 
 
 Cural Badl Bad! Bad! ain't it? 
 
 Henry Decidedly " bad," I should say. 
 
 Cural It is hard to believe that he should have lost all, and so much I 
 And no one involved ? That's almost incredible, on the face of it. He 
 has not been an extravagant man. It is hard to believe. And no one 
 involved ! Incredible I Impossible, almost ! 
 
 Henry The same thing is occurring almost weekly, now-a-days ; 
 without the item of its being nearly all personal loss. 
 
 Cural Yes, sir ; that's a strange feature. [Reseating himself. 
 
 Henry There is nothing strange in the fact of its not being generally 
 known before this date. The loss being personal could not be reckoned 
 from the outside; and there were no special interests to call attention to 
 any attempted reckoning in that direction. 
 
 Cural That's so ; that's so, so far as that goes. If it be, as you 
 say, a personal loss. 
 
 Henry You have yourself, Mr. Cural, alluded to my relationship to 
 this family, and your proposed marriage with Charlotte Bryan. Hadn't 
 we two better come square down to a consideration of that matter matri- 
 monial, now ? My relationship indicates my right, of course, under the 
 circumstances, to speak of the subject; you have introduced it in terms. 
 I have been commissioned to tell the feminines of this family of their 
 loss ; and under that special authority, I am not impertinent in asking 
 you directly, how this break is apt to affect your contemplated marriage? 
 [After a pause.] Of course, my idea is that you will want to commit 
 into the hands of some judicious, proper person your withdrawal from 
 the agreement! [Drawing closer.'] Commit the message to me. lean 
 assure you, there will be no suit for breach of promise. 
 
 Cural Are you sure of that, Mr. Bryan ? 
 
 Henry Will guarantee it, under bonds. I will tell you how this 
 
46 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 thing can be settled at once. You sit down here, and write your with- 
 drawal of the proposition Mrs. Bryan holds from you, for her daughter, 
 and I will make a copy and endorse it with my plain assurance of your 
 full and perfect release; my assurance, which you ought to know is as 
 good as my bond, so far as my means go. And I know I speak under 
 due warrant. Come 1 sit down here and write. 
 
 [Rising and preparing materials for writing. 
 
 Cural [Aside.] (Too fast! I don't believe the story. This can't be 
 true. I can't be "played" in this way. At any rate, its safe to adopt 
 the magnanimous just now; and try the case in the light of all the evi- 
 dence.) No, I must confess I don't wish to make a notary's shop out of 
 this parlor, for any such business. I merely a=ked from ordinary inter- 
 est and curiosity the questions I have put in connection with your vol- 
 unteered news and assurance. But to speak of this last matter. I have 
 been by these tidings only the more determined and anxious to abide by 
 my proposition and agreement. Do you think I would give up the girl, 
 because her father happened to lose a little mon c 'y ? Why, sir, you 
 ought to have known me better than that. I have plenty of money. 
 What I wanted was an elegant little lady for my wife, and respectable 
 connections, honorable connections. These I should have in this mar- 
 riage. It is evident I didn't look to her father's fortune; for I solicited 
 Charlotte's hand before he rose to wealth. 
 
 Henry Before it was generally known that he had become wealthy ; 
 but you knew of it before you ever called at the house. 
 
 Cural I assure you, sir, upon my honor, I did not. [Rising. 
 
 Henry Well, before ymi made proffers of marriage. 
 
 Cural You have mistaken me altogether, Mr. Bryan, Mr. Henry 
 Bryan, in supposing that I sought this young lady's hand for considera- 
 tions of money. I am an elderly man with abundant means, and her 
 father is in middle life with good health and with the prospect of long 
 life ; and he has two other children. Is it reasonable to suppose that I 
 looked to her property as an inducstnent for marrying her ? I don't 
 think you have exhibited your usual insight into character and motives 
 in thus construing mine. No, sir. There can be no impropriety in my 
 saying to you : youth and beauty and intelligence have been the attrac- 
 tions ; not money. You have mistaken me. I came here to see toe 
 lady' whom I am to wed ; not to be forced into an interview and conver- 
 sation with a distant relative who insu'ts me and his relations alike with 
 dishonorable imputations and propositions. Good morning, sir. [Exit 
 Cural.] 
 
 Henry It's well he hurried off, at the end of that speech. I'd follow 
 him with a kick, only he had a little right to appear mad. [After a 
 pause.] Well, well, well ; let me sit down and look at the new features 
 that have come out in this case. [After reflection.'] I c mnot have alto- 
 gether mistaken this old fellow. No doubt lie likes the girl for her 
 beauty. I never doubted that. But he don't ririke his offer for that 
 alone. I don't think he believes my account of Alfred's blow-up. Now 
 if I can ascertain that he has gone straight from this place on a tour of 
 inquiry respecting that, matter, it will be good evidence that his disbelief 
 in the ruin of Alfred's fortunes is the real bottom for his pompous declar- 
 
DEPRECIATION. 47 
 
 ations of high-toned honor and injured innocence, and all that. He 
 won't circulate the news that's certain. No need to caution or petition 
 him on that point. But this deucedly mixes up my ideas as to what to 
 advise Charlotte. How can I counsel her to act toward this old cur- 
 mudgeon? And Mrs. Bryan will be delighted at his steadfastness if 
 he perseveres in it! She'll read me out of the calendar altogether. 0, 
 
 I'm a d d fool! But whatever be Cural's motives or intentions, I'll 
 
 save Lotty from him. I'll save her, I swear I will, or I'll I'll, I'll go 
 to Australia, like a dog on a bark. 
 
 [Enter JANE.] 
 
 Jane There is a lady in the other parlor who has inquired for you. 
 A poor woman. She came in at the basement door. 
 [Enter CHARLOTTE.] 
 
 Charlotte Henry, there's a Lady in the other room, who has been 
 inquiring for you. She inquired for mother first, and then for father, 
 and then for you. I didn't know that you were in the houee, when I 
 first heard her asking for you. I wonder if there would be a scene, if 
 she came in here? Say, Uncle, are you engaged to any woman that 
 you know of? 
 
 Henry Not that I know of. 
 
 Charlotte Now, I dare you to play out, and let mama see this woman 
 first. 
 
 Henry I will leave the house with you. Come ! Take a short walk 
 and ride with me, while your mother has a chance to hear all this wo- 
 man has to say. She is after washing or a "place," I reckon. 
 
 Charlotte Agreed. Jane, go and tell mother there is a lady here, 
 who has a "story" for her. So she told me. [Exit JANE. 
 
 Henry Come with me, and I will tell you a story I have for your 
 ears. One fully as interesting to you as anything this woman can relate 
 will be to your mother's ears. [Exeunt HENRY and CHARLOTTE. 
 
 [Enter MADAM COUCHING ; presently enters MRS. BRYAN.] 
 
 Mrs. Couching \Rlsing\ Mrs. Bryan? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I am Mrs. Bryan. 
 
 Mrs. Couching I have something of importance to tell you. It is a 
 very unpleasant task or duty; but I think it is my imperative duty to 
 say what I shall to you with your consent? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I am perfectly willing a-ad ready to hear anything you 
 have to say, if it concerns me or the interests of my family. 
 
 Mrs. Couching I believe it concerns your family, deeply. The very 
 intimacy of i's connection with the welfare of your child, has made me 
 hesitate the more to become the bearer of the information. I had de- 
 termined to write to you, or to your husband. But my husband advised 
 me to make the statement to you directly. My husband believed that 
 the statement would be regarded, perhaps, as a slander, if it was not 
 substantiated by a personal interview. And he thought that I should 
 make the communication to you, instead of his speaking to your husband 
 about it, as I alone personally knew of the truth of what I have to tell. 
 I agreed to speak to you first, if I could see you ; or else to your hus- 
 band or your brother-in-law, whom my husband knows very well. 
 
48 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Madam, what is your name ? 
 
 Mrs. G I may as well begin the story there: My present name is 
 Mrs. Couching. My maiden name was Barton. I was born in Berk- 
 shire, England. In 1845 my father obtained a civil appointment from 
 the government, which required him to reside in Australia. In the Fall 
 of that year, our family, my father and mother, two brothers of mine and 
 myself, started on the journey. I was then about fifteen years of age. 
 Among the passengers, on our crowded ship, were twelve convicts, under 
 sentence of transportation to Botany Bay. One among the number fell 
 quite sick, when the voyage was about half over. At the request of 
 many of the cabin passengers the consent of all, I believe he was re- 
 moved aft, to a second cabin bunk. I saw him often there; and when he 
 became convalescent, even after- he was taken back to his forecastle 
 quarters, he was allowed to come daily upon the quarter deck. This was 
 during several weeks ; and his face became very familiar to me. I have 
 a good recollection of faces. There was a strong attraction to a child, 
 especially, in looking at such a person. I knew of his sentence, and re- 
 garded him with the curiosity and intensity of a child. I could not for- 
 get or mistake his face, not even if it were changed or disfigured very 
 much. That man is now in this city. He was closely shaved when he 
 was on board our vessel, of course, and he is shaven close now. I can- 
 not be mistaken in his features. I came from Australia to California 
 about three years ago, and I saw and noticed him here within a few 
 weeks of my arrival, and I have often seen him here since that time. 
 Within the past two or three months, by accident and design both, I have 
 .seen him very often, and observed him while talking many times. I do 
 not remember about his voice. It was very rarely that he spoke on board 
 ship, and then only to the guard or the officers of the ship. But his 
 manner, while speaking, I recollect. He is here regarded as a wealthy 
 citizen, in good standing. I learned, a short time since, that he was 
 about to marry your daughter. My husband had this intelligence con- 
 firmed from Mr. Henry Bryan ; and it was not until he told me of it that 
 I thought of revealing this to any one outside of my family. Since that 
 time, whenever I have had an opportunity, I have watched the man still 
 more closely, that I might make no mistake ; until I am quite positive. 
 There are several other persons whom I have seen in town that, I think, 
 were members of that gang of convicts ; but I cannot be positive as to 
 any of them as I am of this one's identity. I have been thoroughly 
 satisfied of his history as a convict, and of my duty to you, for several 
 days past. I have passed by your house several times, without the cour- 
 age to come in and ask for you. But now you have the story. The old 
 man who proposes to marry your daughter, and who goes here by the 
 name of Cural, is an escaped convict, or he served his time out. I am 
 not certain as to what was the nature of his offence, though I thing it 
 was forgery. I know his term was for fourteen years ; and I have reason 
 to believe he appeared here before that time passed from the date of our 
 voyage together from England, in the packet. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You say that you are the only one in the city, so far as 
 you know, who has a personal knowledge of this man's former character 
 or history, as you call it ? 
 
DEPRECIATION. 49 
 
 <Mrs. I don't know of any other person knowing of these facts, 
 except as I have told my husband and written to a brother who is up 
 the country. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan You are the only one who professes to have a personal 
 knowledge of the facts on shipboard, so far as you are aware ? 
 
 Mrs. G Yes, madam. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Did you expect I would believe this story? 
 
 Mrs. C I thought it probable you might at first be incredulous. I 
 spoke to my husband about that. He said it would be right for me to 
 give you the information, at all events. He said that if you were in- 
 clined to disbelieve it, you would be likely afterward to make such scru- 
 tiny of the man, his talk and actions, as would confirm what I told you. 
 Husband said you would be apt to ask him suddenly as to his previous 
 life, and quiz him until he gave evidence, the one way or the other, so 
 as to sat ; sfy you of his guilt or innocence. Husband says that a quiz- 
 zing woman is more cunning and expert in getting out the truth than a 
 cross-examining lawyer. And he thinks he ought to know. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Doubtless. Mrs. Couching, what is your husband's 
 business? 
 
 Mrs. G He is a carpenter and shipwright by trade. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Are you in want ? 
 
 Mrs. C Not at all. "We live very comfortably, and are saving money 
 
 Mrs. Bryan How much did you expect from me for this "informa- 
 tion" as you call it? 
 
 Mrs. Cl expect nothing. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan And I would give you nothing for the information. But 
 I will give you something if you will agree to mention this matter to no 
 other person. You profess to have come here and communicated these 
 facts to me out of a proper and simple regard for my interests or the 
 welfare of an innocent woman. Well : in furtherance of that very pur- 
 pose, I want you to agree not to reveal this to any one else. The en- 
 gagement between my daughter and Mr. Cural is so notorious, that his 
 general exposure would bring disgrace upon us, considerable unnecessary 
 suffering to my daughter. He can be dismissed without it being known 
 why. Will you make this agreement? 
 
 Mrs. C Certainly, I will agree to speak of the matter no farther. 
 Nor did I intend to. But I did not look for any compensation in the 
 way of money for what I have felt it my duty to tell you, and I will not 
 take money for concealing this elsewhere or remaining silent upon it. 
 Good morning, Mrs. Bryan. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Good morning. [Exit Mrs. (7.] Well, this is a dreadful 
 state of affairs. But I fancy I preserved and acted upon more presence 
 of mind than I ever before thought myself capable of maintaining under 
 such circumstances. I don't care if he was sentenced to Botany Bay for 
 a thousand years. No one in this city but this poor woman actually 
 knows it ; and only her family know of it from her, beside myself. And 
 she will see to it that the secret is kept. I can be sure of that. Other- 
 wise she would have taken money for the information, in the first in- 
 stance ; and more for the promise of quiet. I am terribly glad I heard 
 this first myself, instead of Alfred or Henry. Then it would have destroyed 
 
 5 
 
50 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 all our prospects. Cural must be very rich. My husband and Henry 
 have told of instances where he has invested thousands within the past 
 few months, on bond and mortgage. No wild-cat hazard on that. And 
 he intends to set up a splendid establishment of his own. If our mis- 
 fortune and his colony-life can be kept a sec r et a little while a little 
 while, that's the necessity the only thing necessary 1 
 
 [Enter HENRY, in haste, breathless.] 
 
 Henry "Would you believe it, Clara? No, I don't know as I'll put 
 the matter in that way. You cannot get anybody in these premises to 
 believe bad news. But I must be crazy, or I'd expect this was good 
 news for you. Mrs. Bryan, I snppose I shall have to congratulate you. 
 I told old Moneybags all about Alfred's lo*s, and he said, "No matter I" 
 He said that it was not money, but youth and beauty that attracted him. 
 The cussed sentimental old hypocrite. I'll tell it all in a lump. Here 
 I've taken a long walk and ride with your obedient daughter, for the 
 purpose of telling her the state of the case, and she goes right off to her 
 father and tells him that Arthur Hassard had written her probably on 
 account of having heard of her father's slide absolving her from some 
 sort of an oath, and she advised her father to say the word and she'd 
 marry Cural and and be happy, and make everybody else happy. 0, 
 I'm miserable. I'm played out. I wish that old fellow could be got 
 into a private mad-house. I believe he belongs in state prison by rights. 
 I don't think there's such a family in town as this. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Nor I, either; where a brother-in-law, an uncle, a man 
 of no family experience, sets himself up to rule a household, without any 
 invitation, and in spite of continual notice that his advice is not wanted, 
 and his orders will be disregarded. 
 
 Henry Mrs. Bryan, you seriously propose delivering Charlotte into 
 the domestic keeping of this man, this old coon, because he has money. 
 At the same time you propose to cross her own choice, her excellent 
 choice, a choice worthy of her and her ber father. You propose, really 
 for your own advantage, and to bolster up your own pride, to bind your 
 child to this indecent marriage, until death shall have the kindness to in- 
 terrupt the relationship. 0, what is all our civilization worth I 
 
 Mrs. Bryan And you propose, Mr. Henry, that our eldest daughter, 
 in this time of our adversity, should refuse an eligible, wealthy match, 
 and unite herself with a poor soldier boy, who, to say nothing of his 
 necessary mode of life and his prospects hereafter, is now paid off in 
 greenbacks at forty cents on the dollar, a pittance sum of one hundred 
 dollars a month 1 You are a sensible man, as sensible as you are modest 
 and diffident about interfering in other people's business. Your own im- 
 pertinent officiousness has brought you a severe lesson this morning. I 
 think you not only were impertinent, but you did a mean trick when 
 you informed Mr. Cural of Alfred's failure. Like a generous man. he 
 accounts that nothing. That proves the sincerity of his attachment to 
 Charlotte, and, I am sure, makes all necessary and reasonable pledge of 
 his kindness and liberality to her when they shall be married. 
 
 \Exit MRS. BRYAN. 
 
 Henry [Pacing up and down excitedly] Well, this beats the very 
 
DEPRECIATION. 51 
 
 devil I "Why, I really thought it was well worth Alfred's big break to 
 break off this cursed match. But it don't appear that it is going to ef- 
 fect anything of that kind. On the contrary 
 
 [Enter BRIDGET, and interrupting.] 
 
 Bridget Hush! hush! hush! Mr. Henry, I have got something 
 great to tell you, and quick. 
 
 Henry Have you ? 
 
 Bridget Faith, I have. And it's yourself that got my cousin a place 
 here as coachman, and I can't forget it. Listen, now, and don't you dis- 
 cover me to the lady. You must pretend to have heard this from some- 
 body else. 
 
 Henry What is it? 
 
 Bridget Troth, I'm going to tell you quick, before she comes down 
 again. There was a poor woman called here this morning. "While she 
 was here talking with the madam, I was dusting in the other parlor, and 
 sure, I couldn't help hearing what was said. The woman said her hus- 
 band was a carpenter, and she was born in Old England ; and when she 
 was about fifteen year she went on a voyage to Australia with her father 
 and mother arid two brothers. And there were twelve convicts for Bot- 
 any Bay on board ; one was taken sick on the voyage, about half ways 
 out. He was carried aft to the cabin. She saw him there, and after 
 that she noticed him on the deck. He was a fourteen-year convict; and 
 this is the very same chap that is going to marry Miss Charlotte. 
 
 Henry What's that woman's name ? 
 
 Bridget The woman said her name was Mrs. Couching, and her hus- 
 band's a carpenter. Hush ! I thought I heard the Madam's step. You 
 can charge it upon her as something you heard from some one else. She 
 can't deny it; and, sure, that'll break up the match. She offered to bribe 
 the woman not to tell. The woman would not take money, but she 
 agreed not to tell ; and I heard madam say to herself afterwards that 
 Charlotte should marry the old man any way. 
 
 Henry My God ! Is this so ? I will go and tell Alfred at once, and 
 we'll go and see this woman. Couching you say her name is, and her 
 husband's a carpenter? 
 
 Bridget Yes; I don't think she's more than left the basement. She's 
 got on a green dress. [Looking out the ivindow.'] There she goes up the 
 street, now. You can overtake her. And there comes Mr. Bryan, down 
 on the other 'side of the street. ]Exit HENRY."] Now, I guess I've 
 earned me discharge! Curse of Cromwell on that old chap! [Door bell 
 rings.} Who can that be? Troth, I'll be the first to know. [Exit. 
 
 [Enter MRS. BRYAN.] 
 Mrs. Bryan I don't know what to do. 
 
 [Enter ARTHUR.] 
 
 Arthur Good morning, Mrs. Bryan. 
 Mrs. Bryan Good morning, sir. 
 
 Arthur I suppose I might as well explain to you that Mr. Henry 
 Bryan, whom I happened to meet, up the street, a little way above, told 
 me that Miss Charlotte would like to speak with me a few minutes be- 
 
52 
 
 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 fore'I went up the coast. I thought I might as well call now as at any 
 other time. I can assure you, if she requires my personal confirmation 
 of the letter I addressed to her yesterday, she shall have it. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Take a seat, and I will send for Charlotte. Jane! 
 [Touching bell] Jane! 
 
 [Enter JANE.] 
 
 Go up to Charlotte's room, and tell her Mr. Arthur Hassard is in the 
 parlor and wishes to speak with her a few moments. [Exit JANE.] You 
 have been commissioned a long time. I should think you would be 
 anxious to get into active service; at least such "active service " as this 
 coast affords. 0, by the way, Arthur, a lady friend of mine, who called 
 the other day, brought her nurse and little baby with her, and the little 
 baby somehow got hold of your photograph, which Laura had brought 
 down and carelessly laid on the table. The baby tore your handsome 
 face and uniform all to pieces. I didn't know what the child was doing 
 until the destruction was complete. Charlotte seemed to feel quite 
 grieved about it. But never mind! When you get to be a General 
 you can send 113 a new one, life-size, in full uniform ; and I have no 
 doubt Mr. Cural will be perfectly willing that Charlotte shall have it 
 framed and hung up in the dining room. 
 
 Arthur [Aside.] Rough papers! But I must swallow it. 
 [Enter CHARLOTTE.] 
 
 Charlotte Arthur, I am glad you came to-day. I hear you are going 
 away Tuesday. 
 
 Arthur Yes, Charlotte, I am going next week. I shall probably be 
 absent during my term of service. I am glad I have the privilege of 
 shaking hands with you once more, in the presence of your mother. 
 
 Charlotte Mother, will you be kind enough to allow me to speak 
 a few words with Arthur, alone ? We will go into the other parlor. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan 13o, my dear, I don't think it well you should. You 
 should have no more private interviews with any gentleman, except your 
 intended husband. It would be highly improper. 
 
 [Enter ALFRED and HENRY BRYAN-] 
 
 Alfred [excitedly.] My dear, have you heard this account about 
 Cural? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan What is it? 
 
 Alfred That he was a Botany Bay convict! 
 
 Mrs. Bryan What of that ? 
 
 Alfred What of that! What of that! Good God ! Do you say " what 
 of that! " as if it was a matter of indifference to us. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan Henry, have you been eaves dropping? 
 
 Henry I have not, I believe. Yet I heard this from the same source 
 you did. Together with the interesting intelligence that you intended to 
 conceal and ignore the matter. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan So I did. Henry, you have always been a curse to our 
 family. It this matter could have been kept secret. Charlotte would have 
 had a wealthy marriage, notwithstanding our misfortunes. Men may 
 commit crimes in their younger days, and repent and become respectable. 
 The English Courts are very severe, and we know that sometimes they 
 
DEPRECIATION. 53 
 
 condemn the innocent. Perhaps Mr. Cural was not guilty. Perhaps the 
 whole report was false. You may have hired this woman to carry this 
 story. 
 
 Henry You don't think that. This matter, being so far exposed, you 
 agree that this marriage can't be thought of any more ? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I think of it still, if this report can be kept here. I even 
 hope and expect Mr. Cural can disprove this report, eveD if it does go 
 abroad. Any man may be slandered. 
 
 Alfred Do you imagine that I would permit such a marriage now? 
 
 Mrs. Bryan I imagine you would have to permit it if I said so, and 
 nothing stood in the way but your objection. "Would you have Charlotte 
 marry this boy ? Do either of the Mr. Bryan's propose that ? 
 
 Henry I do. The few thousands you have supposed me worth don't 
 amount to one quarter of the property I can boast of on proper occa- 
 sion, suoh as the present. On her marriage with Arthur, I will settle on 
 Charlotte property that steadily brings in two hundred dollars a month, 
 and a thousand dollars in coin for the first year's pocket money ! 
 
 Mr--. Bryan On condition that he leaves the service, I suppose ? 
 
 Henry No. Since you have suggested it: on condition that he re- 
 main in the service, and that Charlotte marry him and go with him to 
 camp or garrison. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan [Sitting down, crying.'] 0, dear, what losses we have 
 sustained. 
 
 [Enter LAURA.] 
 
 Laura 0, Mama, Papa, Uncle Henry I I was just down to Ellen 
 Plant's. You know that her father has acted as one of Mr. Cural's 
 agents for several years past. "Well, he says Mr. Cural isn't worth a 
 picayune to-day not a bit. Those were his very words. He told me 
 he wondered Father did'nt know it. He says he's not worth a bit, but 
 is really head-over-heels in debt; and has only kept it from being 
 long since known all over the town among business men, by quieting 
 some of the most importunate creditors with promise of paying, or se- 
 curity, by Father's help, when he married Lotiy. 
 
 Mrs. Bryan 0, Henry, what a blessing you have always been to our 
 family. [Rising and shaking HENRY by the hand. 
 
 Charlotte Mother! Mother! 
 
 Mrs. Bryan What, dear ? 
 
 Charlotte Can I take a short walk with Arthur this afternoon? 
 
 Hemy I think I may answer undisputed for your mother, this time. 
 Yes, my dear, [kissing her]. Here, Arthur; take her by the hand, and 
 let us see how you look together. Take him by the hand, Lotty, for 
 that long walk up and down the road of life. Why, Arthur, you ought 
 to have won her as against such a rival. You gave up too soon. Rich 
 or poor, "respectable" or plebeian, young or old, American shoulder-straps 
 against expatriated English pounds and shillings, any day ! [advancing. 
 
 Good friends ! we have not brought you to foreign shore, 
 And pictured manners that are now no more ; 
 We have not asked your fancies far to roam t 
 But have preferred to deal with things at home I 
 If then the mirror we have sought to hold 
 
54 DEPRECIATION. 
 
 Before an audience, in this land of gold, 
 
 Reflects in faithfulness the acts and aims 
 
 Of many high-toned wretches and ambitious dames, 
 
 Which should receive the honest masses frown 
 
 As much when stocks are " up " as when they're " down, 
 
 "Why then you'll pardon if some faults appear, 
 
 As : here too lenient, there somewhat severe. 
 
 For when its general study, scope, and view 
 
 Present a picture obviously true, 
 
 And fasten scorn upon successful Cheats, 
 
 And paint domestic discords and deceits, 
 
 The Moral need not have a set and closing clause, 
 
 To urge a better living and invite applause. 
 
 Charlotte 
 
 Though uncle shuns all personal allusion 
 
 And special pleading, at our Play's conclusion, 
 
 I'll even venture modestly to say, 
 
 There is, I think, a Hero in the Play. 
 
 Not the poor " suit " he's won, perhaps, declares 
 
 His right to favor; but the suit he wears, 
 
 And that he copies in his words and acts 
 
 A sober history of romantic facts, 
 
 Entitles him to your applauding cheers, 
 
 One of our own State's Patriot Yolunteers! ' 
 
 Mrs. Bryan 
 
 You'll stay to dinner, Arthur, I presume ? 
 
 Arthur 
 
 I'll leave my "picture" for the dining room! 
 
AW 
 
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