No. CLXXX1X. A oEiNCH'S STANDARD DRAMA. 1 'Numb. 2 IN I 5^3. 5 I =3 THB A DRAMA, IN FIVE ACTS BY THE *** CLUB. U8T Or CHARACTER, STAGE BU8IHK88, OOBTUMM, BELATIYB FOSIllONJi, Ac., ft*. FilNClPAL ENvJIJSU A1JD >.ITnurAN TH2ATE0. - > PRICE, 25 CR&TS NEW YORK SAMUEL FRENCH PUBLISHER 35 WEST 4STH STREET I.ONDON SAMUEL FRENCH. Lm 26 SouTHAMrroN STHKET STRAND, W.G2 University of California Southern Regional Library Facility ADA GIVES FIRST AID Comedy, i act. By Eunice Merrifield. 2 males, 6 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 35 minutes. Ada Wilde, a scatterbrained woman, suddenly decides that she has a mission to perform. She organizes a class in first aid, although she doesn't know the difference between a break and a sprainl "The girls" are busily engaged in discussing the latest gossip when they hear a loud crash outside. A strange man has met with an accident. And what "the girls" do to this victim is a caution! By the time Ada and her friends have their victim to the point of unconsciousness they discover that he is a doctor who has moved into the house next door! (Budget Play.) Price, 35 cents. GIRLS OF THE U.S.A. Comedy, i act. By Peggy Fernway. 7 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 35 minutes. Mrs. Claire Vanderpool, an aristocratic society matron, is so accustomed to her bridge parties and her "pink-teas" that she thinks she can go about her social pleasures with a "business as usual" manner. She is rudely awakened from her indiffer- ence when her daughters go all out for civilian defense. The Vanderpool home soon becomes a veritable madhouse. Gradu- ally, Mrs. Vanderpool is brought to a realization of her duty to her country and she goes about making up for lost time in a sincere and hearty manner. (Budget Play.) Price, 35 cenU. WHODUNIT? Mystery-farce, i act. By Millard Crosby. 3 males, 4 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 35 minutes. Walter Beardsley, young novelist who has recently married Eve, leaves home early one day without saying where he is going. Soon Jeremiah Piping, the comical local Sheriff, bursts into the house and shouts that Walter has been murdered. Suspicion falls on a handsome young man who has been visit- ing Eve, and just as the Sheriff is about to arrest him, three shots are fired and the Sheriff falls to the floor. Then the lights go out and the Sheriff disappears. There is nothing gruesome about this play, and the comic complications and surprise finish make it superb entertainment. (Budget Play.) Price, 35 cents. FRENCH'S STANDARD DRAMA Zfie Sctfnjj BfcltftR. No. CLXXXIX. THE POOR OF NEW YORK ^ grama in Jrb* BY THE * * * * CLUB. TO WHICH ABB ADDED of the Costume Cut of the Character* KnT,rrice and Exit* Relative Position* of the Performers on the Stage, and the whole of tbi Stage Business |Jttfomvb at Sftallarh's C^alrt, ^ecembtr, 185? a f I' NEW YORK SAMUEL FRENCH PUBLISHER 35 WEST 45TH STREET 1455 we LONDON SAMUEL FRENCH, Lm 36 SOUTHAMPTON STBJZX STRAND, Cat Pi Ibt bv8Clerrj. [Tai POOR o* NEW YOBK.J WaXack't Theatre, December, 1861 CAFTAIN FAIBWBATHBB, .... Mr. Blake. GIDEON BLOODGOOD, ..... Mr. Nortoa BADGER, ...... Mr. Lester. MARK LIVIHOBTOM, ..... Mr. Sothern. PAUL,- - .... Mr.A.H. Davwioor'. PrTPT, Mr. Sloan. DAJT, - - - - - - - Mr. T. B. John*.-*, DABIBLS, .... . . Mr. Tree. K: WARDS. .... . Mr. Lever*. > , ' MRS FAIBWBATHBB, - - - Mrs. Blake Mas. PCFFT, ... . Mrs. Co-ike ALIDA, ...... . - Mn>. Hoey. LrcT, Mrs. J. II. Allwi. otume -MODERN The First Act occurs duiing the Commercial Panic of 1837 TX remainder of the Drama takes place during the Panic of 1867. STAGE DIRECTIONS L means First Entrance, Left. R. First Entrance, Riyhi. 8 E. I Second Entrance, Left. S. E. 11. Second Entrance, Right. U. E. L Upper Entrance, Left. U. E. R. Upper Entrance. Right. C. Centrt L. C. Left Centre. "R. C. Right of Centre. T. E. L. Third Entrancr Jjeft. T. E. R. Third Entrance, Right. C. D. Centre Door. D. R Dot* Right. D. L. Door Left. D. D. L. Upper Door, //*#. U. D. R Upper Door, Right. %* The reader is supposed to be on the Stage, facing the Audience tend MoonJtcg to Act f CtangrM, In the y<" One TaooMUHi Klgbc Hnndrvl ud Tmt it* kr T)iow BOCCICAULT, tn the Clerk't <)ff>* tlM Dltrl OENE. The prwate office of a banking house in Ac u> York; 4foef rt back, leading to the Bank ; Door L. H., leading to a sidt tiriii GIDBON BLOODGOOD seated, c., at desk. Enter EDWAKDB, L. H. P. F., with a sheet of paper. Edw. The stock list, sir; second board of brokers. Blood. [Rising eagerly.] Let me see it. Tell the cashier to clow the Bank on the stroke of three, and dismiss the clerks. \fleads. [Exit EDW4KD8. , Bo -as I expected, every stock is down further still, and my last effor* to letrieve my fortune has plunged me into utter ruin 1 [Crushet ur tht paper.} To-morrow, my drafts to the amount of eighty thousand dollars will be protested. To-morrow, yonder street, now HO still, will be tilled with a howling multitude, fer the house of Bloodgood, the Banker, will fail, and in its fall will crush hundreds, thousands, whc have their fortunes laid up here. Re-enter EDWARDS. Edw. Here are the keys of the safe sir, and the vault. [Liar* ieys on desk and shoes a check to BLOODOOOD.] The building com mittee of St. Peter's new church have applied for your donation, h is a thousand dollars. Wood. Pay it. {Exit EDWARDS.] To-nn>rrow, New York will ring from Union di|Uaro r,c the Battery with the news '' Bloodgood hiu absconded" but. to niorrow I shall be safe on board the packet foi Liverpool all is prepared for my flicht with my ozly care in lifa my only hope my darling child her fortune is secure [ritex.] Th ffuir will blow over ; Blood good's bankruptcy will soon be forgot ten iu the whirl of New York trade, b* Alidt, my dar Alida ill b ' Re-enter EDWARDS. Kdte. Here, sir, are the drafts on the Bank of England 70,000 Jollnrs. f//flHfi* papers to BLOODGOOD, who placet them in AM & rk> tbooK. i>' > d Are the clerks all jrono ? /i>.'/c. All, sir, except Mr B;i not understand you, sir. Bad. [Seating himself on a. desk, deliberately dangling his legt.\ So! well I'll *.i>l my i : s and cross my t's. and make myself plain to the meanest i-vjnrity. In business there are two ways of getting neh, one hard, slow and troublous: this is called labor ; Blood. Sir! Aid. Allow me to finish. The other jiasy. quick and demanding oihini; hii; n pliant conscience and a da 'ing n-i^d is now pleasantly lenomiimH tii:aneieririg but when New Y'ork was honest, it was tilled lit ii'liilent bankruptcy, that was before you arid 1 were born. Blood. What do you mean ? liad. \ !!'.i;an th.U for ;m>ie than two years I have watched yout Diisiiiess uai-sartions-, .vlien you thought me idle, my eyes were every 4 here . in your books, in your safe in your vaults ; if you doubt m |uestion me about your operations for the la*t three months Blood. This is infamous ! Rtid. That is precisely the word I used when I cam* to the end ol your books. M*r \ O*Jt*id*.\ This way, i>. TH2 POOH OF NSW YORK, 6 Enter EDWARDS, with CAPTAIN FAIRWEA ram Blood. [To BADGEB, in alarm.] Not a word. Bad. All right. fJdw. [Introditeing CAPTAIN F.] This is Mr. Bloodgood. Capt. Glad to see you, sir. You will pardon my intruding ai u hour when the bank, I am told, is closed. Blood. I am at your service, sir. [He mates a sign for BADGEK to retire, b>ti the litter rcma nt Bad. [To CAPTAIM.] You may speak, sir ; Mr. Bloodgood has n< g^rets from me. I am in his confidence. Capt. [Sits.] I ara a sea-cuptain, in the India Trade. My voy- ages are of the Ion/jest, and thus I am obliged to leave my wile and two children almost at the mercy of circumstances. I was spending a happy month with my darlings at a little cosy place I have at Yonkers while my ship was loading, when this internal commercial squall set in all my fortune, 100,000 dollars, the fruits of thirty years' hard toil was invested in the United States Bank it was ihe livelihood of my wife the food of my little children I hur- lied to my brokers and sold out. I saved myself just in time. Blood. I admire your promptitude. Capt. To-morrow I sail for China ; for the last three weeks I have worried my brains to think how I should bestow my money to-day I bethought me of your house the oldest in New York your name glands beyond suspicion, and if I leave this money in your hands, I am sleep nightly with the happy assurance that whatever happens to me, tuy dearest ones are safe. Bad. You may pull your nightcap over your ears with that estab- lished conviction. Capt. Now, 1 know your bank is closed, but if you will accept thi* money as a special deposit, I will write to you how I desire it to b forested hereafter. Blood. [Pensive.] You have a family 1 Capt. Don't Udk of them tears of joy come into my eyes whenever I think of those children and my dear wife, the patient, devoted companion of the old sailor, whose loving voice murmurs each evening a prayer for those who are on the sea ; and my children, sir, twa little angels'; one a fair little thing we call her Lucy she is th youngest all red and white like a little bundle of nuwers; and inj eldest my son Paul we named him after Paul Jones a sailor'* whim; well, sir, when the ship is creaking and groaning under mj feet, when the squall drives the hail and sleet across my face, anrd the thunder, I only hear three voices through the gloom I can NO* only three faces, pressed together like throe angels waiting for me Ir heaven, and that heaven is my home. But, how I do talk, sir for getting that these things can't interest yju. Blood. Thoy do, moixs than you imagine. I, too, have ft child- only '. t a motherloss child ! Ca.pt. A iut it good to speak of the little beings ? Don't it fill UM a a 1-aught of sweet water \ My darling torment* , bw fa I4< 4 CUE H(.>0 OF SKW im\A Ihelr fortune I have it in my hand it is hero I have snatch*, J Ik from the waves ; I hare won it across the tempest ; I have labored, wrostled, and suffered for it ; but.it seemed nothing, for it waa foi llictn. Take it, sir. [lit hand* a pocket-book.] In tin.-, pocket-book you will find one hundred thousand dollars. May I take your receipt and at once depart for my vessel 1 Bad. [Aside.] This is getting positively interesting. 1 Blood. Your confidence flatters me, sir. You desire to place thii noney \vir,h me as a special deposit 1 Capt. If yon please. Will you see that the amount is correct? ; . -*> Blood. [Counting.] Mr. Badger, prepare the receipt. B She dare no*, sir ; Miss Alida has torn nurse's face in a fear- tl manner already. [Exit. Bod. Dear, high-spirited child ! If she is so gentle now, what win !Lt be when she is twenty, and her nails are fully developed 1 Blood. [Takes hat.\ I will return immediately. [Exit. Bad. [ following BLOODOOOD with his eyet.} Oh, nature, wonderful mistress! Keep close to your daughter, Bloodgood, for she is your master ! Ruin, pillage, rob fifty families to make her rich with their nusery, '>appy in their tears. 1 watched him as he received the for- tune of ihat noble old sailor not a blink his heart of iron never qciailed , but in this heart of iron there is a straw, a weakness, by which ic may be cracked, and that weakness is his own child chil- dren ! They are the devil in disguise. I have not got any except my passions, my vices a large family of spoilt and ungrateful little dvvils, who threaten their loving father with a prison. Edw. [Outside.] I tell you, sir, he is not in. Capt. [Outside.\ Let me pass I say. [He entert very much agitated.] Where is he ? Where is he 1 Bad. [Surprised.] What is the matter, sir 1 Capt. Mr. Bloodgood I must see him speak to him this instant I j you not hear me 1 Bad. But Capt. 1)) has not gone. Sad. Sir Caft. Ah 1 he is here! Re-enter BLOODOOOD. Blood. What is the meaning of this. Capt. Ah! you it is you [Trying to restrain hibernation.] Sir, have changed my mind ; here is your receipt ; have the goodness U nurn rue the deposit I I left with you. Blood. Sir! Capt. I have another investment for thir urn, and I beg you to PB- lore it to me. Stood. Restore it ! you hare a very strange way, sir, of demaDdlng rtiat is due to yon. Capt. It is true ; pardon me but I have told yon it is all I possess I*, is the fortune of my wife, of my children, of my brave Paul and my dear little Lucy. It is their future happiness, their life ! Listen, lir ; I will be frank with you. Just now, on returning to my hotel, I found the owners of my ship waiting dinner for me. well, they were peaking as merchants will speak of each othe r your name wai I listened and they said It makes me tremble vei rim POOK OP JKW TUH&. sow they said there were rumours abroad to day tliat yonr boas* was in peril. Jlluc'd. I attack no importance, air, to idle talk. Cnpt. But I attach importance to it, sir. How can I leave tne city with this suspicion on my mind that perhaps I have compromised iht future of my family. Hood. Sir! Capt. Take back your receipt, and return me my money. Blond. You know sir, that it is after banking hours. Reta-i la morrow. Capt. No. You received my deposit after banking Lours. Bwod I am not a paying teller, to count out money. Capt. You did not say so, when you counted it in. Enter EDWARDS. Kdte. The driver says you will be late for the Blood. [Trying to stop him.] That wiH do. [Exit EDWARDS. Capt. What did he say "? [Runs to the window.] A carriage the door Bad. [Aside.] Things are getting complicated here. Capt Yes I see it all. He is going to fly with the fortui.es acd savings of his dupes ! [Tearing hit cravat.] Ah! I shall choke! [Fvi- rioutly to BLOODQOOD.J But I am here, villian, I am here in time. Blood. Sir. Capt. To-morrow, you said return to-morrow but to-morrow you will be gone. [ Precipitates himself on BLOODOOOD.] My money, my money. I will have it this instant! Do not speak a word, it is useless, I will not listen to you. My money, or I will kill you as a coward should be killed, Robber! Thief! Bad. [Aside.] Hi ! hi ! This is worth fifty cents reserved seat* extra. Blood. [Disengaging himself '.] Enough of this scandal. You shall have your money back again. Capt. Give it me ah! [7n pain.] My head! [To BLOODOOOD. J Be quick, give it to me, and let me go. [Staggering and putting hit hand* to face.] My God ! what is this strange feeling which over- comes me. Bad. He is falling, what's the matter of him 1 [CAPTAIN F. falls in chair c. Bleed. His face is purple. [ Takes pocket-book and commencet U tount out money. [Soft music to end of act. Capt. I am suffocating ; some air. I cannot see ; everything i* black before my eyes. Am I dying 1 0, no, no! it cannot be, I will not die. I must see them again. Some water quick! Cumetome my wife my children ! Where are they that I cannot fold them :n my arms ! [He looks stra:igely and fearfully into the face o/" BLOODOOOB for an instant, and then breaks into a loud sob.] Oh, my children my poor, poor, little children I (After tome convulsive e/ortt io sptol bit eyes become jEzwi. TEK POOR OF NBW TOHK. f Blood. [Distracted.} Some one run for help. Badger, a doctoi quick. Z?ad. [/Sfcariweu the Klraiuui dwaui Aa ACT II. Dame of 1S5Z. , ^ SCJBNE l.The Park, near Tammany Hail L*K Eight o'clock in the morning ! For th* )at hour I iiaro beei hovering round Chatham street' I wauled to sell my overcoat to some nterprising loSarttle, but 1 could not muster the ci arago to enter cm jf those dens. Can 1 realize the fact? Three month.-, ago, 1 stood there the fashionable Mark Livingstone, owner ot' the Waterwiich yacht, oue of the original stock-holders in the Academy of Music, and now, burst up, sold out, and reduced to breakfast oft' this coat [/'/* M ike i>ccket.\ What do 1 feel '( a gold dollar undiscovered iu t)i Eaglau of other days ! [ Withdraws kis ha*d.\ ^o ; tis a live-onus (iece! Enter PCFFT, with a hot-potato arrangement. Ta&t ei^'ut o'clock ! I aiu late this woruiug. i wonder what that fellow has in his Liu volcano it *U. iia ! \.-hat are those fuuny luinys < Ah ! I'uj^y. Sweet potatt>es, >;ir. Liv. Indeed ! [ Aside, If tiia Union Ciub saw me [Look* round.] No ; I am incog hunger cries aloud. Here goes. Pvjfy. Why, hiess me, if it ain't Mr. Livingstons! Lie. The devil ! lie knows me I dare not eat a morsel P-ujj'y. i iii PtUiy, s>ir ; the baker that was ir Broadwa ' server you, sir, and your ^ood lather afore j'ou. Lve. Oh, Pull'y ah, true. [Aside.] I wonder if I owe him anything Puffy. JJovvn in the world now, sir over-speculated uke too res< uc 'em. I expanded on a new-fangled oven, that was to bake enough bread in six. hours to supply the whole United State* got doue brown iu it. myself subsided into Bowery expandel tgaiu oa woffles, caught a second time obliged to contract into a twelve foot front OB Division street. Mrs. P. tends the indoor trade I do a k-comotive business in potatoes, and we let our second floor. My son Dun sleeps with George Washington Wo. 4, while Mrs. P. and 1 make out undei the counter; Mrs. P., bein' wide, objects some, but I says says 1 "My dear, everybody must contract themselves in these here hart! times." Lit. So you are poor now, are you 1 \Tobet a potato, playfully. Puffy. Yes, sir; I ain't ashamed to own it forjl hurt nobody but myself. Take a little salt, sir. But, Lord bless you, sir, poverty don't come amiss to me I've get uo pride to support. Now, THB POOR OP BBW TOBK.. 11 Lit. Ah, your second floor. Pujfy. A widow lady and her f-vo grown children poor li mia*, but proud, si? they was grand folks once ; you can see that by tin iray they try to bide it. Mrs. Fairweatber is a - L*v. Fairweather tbe widow of a sea captain, who died here in Sew York, twenty years ago i Puffy. Do you know niy lodgers 1 lAv. Three months ago, they lived in Brooklyn Paul had a clerk *ip in the Navy Yard. Puffy. But when the panic set in, the United .States government x>d doing o. THE POOR OF HEW TOBK. II L%n. Bat you are making thousands a week 1 Blood That is no reason that I should not take ad intage of JM tmes [Rfcognizingr Puffy.] Ah, Mr. Puffy, that not* of yours. Puffy. Oh, Lord ! [ Aside.} It is the note Mrs. Fairwt- ithef gave DM 5cr her rent. Blood. My patience is worn out. Puffy. It's all right sir. Blood. Take care it is. [Exit. Puffy. There goes the hardest cuss that ever went to Imv. Liv. Paul ray dear friend will you believe me my /oelings art the same towards you nay more tender, more sincere tiian ever bat fchere are circumstan s I cannot explain. Mn. F. Mr. Livingstone, say no more we ask no explanation. Liv. But I ask something let me visit you let me return to th place that 1 once heM in your hearts. Puffy. 219 Division street Putfy, Baker. Dinner at half past one come to day, sir do, sir. Paul. We cam rot refuse you. Mrs. F. I will go to Lucy's store and let her know. An ! Mr. Livingstone she has never confessed that she loved you but you will find her cheek paler than it used to be. [Exit. Paul. And now to hunt for work to go from office to office plead- ing for employment to be met always with the same answer " we are full" or " we are discharging hands'! Livingstone, I begin to envy the common laborer who has no fears, no care, beyond bis food r.nd shelter I am beginning to lose my pity for the poor. Liv . The poor ! whom do you call the poor 1 Do you know them ? do yon see them 7 they are more frequently found under a black coat than under a red shirt. The poor man is the clerk with a family, forced to maintain a decent suit of clothes, paid for out of the hunger of his children. The poor man is the artist who is obliged to pledge toe tools of his trade to buy medicines for his sick wife. The lawyer who, craving for employment, buttons up his thin paletot to hide his shirtless breast. These needy wretches are poorer than the poor, tor they are obliged to conceal their poverty with the false mask oi content smoking a cigar to disguise their hunger they drag from their pockets their last quarter, to cast it with studied carelessness, to the begger, whose mattress at home is lined with gold. These are the most miserable of the Poor of New York. I A small crowd has assemble round LIVINGSTONE during this speech^ they take him for an orator; one of them takes down whai he sayt on tablets. Enter POLICEMAN. Puffy and crowd. Bravo Bravo Hurrah get" on the bench I Police. Come I say this won't do. Lit. What have I done. Police. No stumping to the population allowed in the Park. IAV. Si-limping ! ! Oblige me with your name, sir, for the Herald. \Rushes off. followed bv PAPV M. TUB POOR OP NEW YORK, , SCENE II Svtfrior o/ BLOODOOOD'S Bank, Aagt&u Strttt Enter- BLOODOOOD. Blood. [Looking at papers.] Four per cent, a month ha! if tliit panic do hut last, I shall double my fortune ! Twenty years ago thii rery month ay, this very day I stood in yaudcr bank, a ruined man. Shall I never forget that night when I and my accomplice jarried out the body of the old sailor and laid it there. [Poinit L.] [ never pass the spot without a shudder. But his money lhat founded my new fortune. Enter ALIPA. Alida, my dear child, what brings you to this part of the city 1 AHda. I want two thousand dollars. Blood. My dearest child, I gave you five hundred last week. Alida. Pooh ! what's five hundred 1 You made ten thousand in Michigan Southern last week I heard you tell Mr. Jacob Little so. Blood. But Alida. Come, don't stand fooling about it; go & and get the money I must have it. Blood. Well, my darling, if you must. Will you stop in 1 Alida. Not I. I'm not going into your dirty bank. I've seen all your clerks they're not worth looking at. Blood. I'll go and fetch it. [Exit. Alida. This is positively the last time I will submit to this extor- tion. [Opens a letter and reads.] '' My adored Alida 1 fly to your exquisite feet ; I am the most wretched of men. Last night, at Hall's, I lost two thousand dollars it must be paid before twelve o'clock Oh, my queen ! my angol ! invent some excuse to get this money from four father, ami meet me at Maillard's at half-past eleven. When hail we meet again alone, in that box at the opera, where I can press my lips to your superb eyea, and twine my hands in your magnificent hair 1 Addio carissima! THE DL*KE OF CALCAVEI.LA." I wonder If he showed that to any of his friends heft-re he sent it ! Re-enter BLOUDOOOD, followed by PUFFY. Elood I tell you, sir, it must be paid. I Lave given you plen'y of Puffy. You gave me the time necessary for vou to obtain execution In the Marine Court. Blood. Alida, my love, there is a draft for the money. [Gives A*r *x,ies. She takes them.] And now, will you do me a favor 7 Do not te seen about so much, in public, with that foreign Duke. Alida. I nevei ask you for a draft but you always give me a pill U take with it. Blood. I don't like him. Alida. I do bye-bye. f Exit. Blood. How grand she looks! That girl possesses ray whole heart Pujfy. Reserve a little for me, sir. This here note, it \7tis give it me by my 2d floor in payment, of rent. It's as good as gold, sir VMK? tby are able to pay it. I'd sooner h" ; i THE POOR ty NEW % UBS. Ift 9t**xl. Mi Puffy, you are the worst kind of mar. you are a * .k u iest fool . you are always failing always the dupe of eonae ne\, \ ndler *vffy. Lc'd love you, sir ! if you was to sea the folks yoo'caJt w odlers the kindest, purest 2d floor as ever drew God's breatL. I 1 Id thorn that this note was all right for if they know'd I was pifc. *ln it, along of it, I believe they'd sell the clothes off their backs tw pa? it. &'od. Vary good. [Aside.] I'll put an execution on 1 is house at once \Aloud.] Good morning, Mr. Puffy. [Exit. P* ffy. Good jiorning, sir. So, I'm floated off that mud bank, Lord ' if he had seized my goods and closed mo up I'd never a dare< to look Mrs. Fairweather in the face agin. [Exit. ICE? I'E III. The interior of PUPPY'S house. A poor but neat roc n window at back. MRS. FAIRWEATHKE is arranging dii ner. Enter LUCY, with a box. LT* /y. My dear mother. Mi i. F. My darling Lucy. Ah, your eye is bright again. Tht thouj ht of seeing Mark Livingstone has revived your smile. L^y. I have seen him. He and Paul called at Madame Victorine's, Mrs. F. Is your work over, Lucy, already! Li>sy. What we expected has arrived, mother. This dress is th last 1 shall receive from Madame Victorine she is discharging her hands. Mrs. F. More misfortunes and Paul has not been able to obtain employment. [A knock. Enter MBS. PPPFY. Mrs P May I come in ? it's only Mrs. PuCy. I've been over th oven for two hours! Knowing you had company I've got a pigeon pie such a pie ! urn oo nmtton kidneys in it and hard biled eggs love ye! then I've got a chicken, done up a way of my own ! I 11 got on a clean gown and serve it up myself. Mrs. F. But my dear Mrs. Puffy really we did not n>?au to incui any expense Mrs. P. Expense! why, wasn't them pigecns goin' to waste they was shot by Dan and we can't abide pigeons, neither Puffy ncf '!. Then the rooster was running round always *-B.i$iu' hereaflet arly in the morniii' a noosance, it was Enter V\y Beg p&rdou ladioa I just stepped ia- I TUB room or iw Tost. rf.iy, I>:ui. Dan. Day, uiss! [_4sufr fc; Alas. PUKFY.] Uh ! mother, ain't ah pootty this iiioinin'. Jfrs. P. [SnioorfAt/iy kerlutir.] What, have you got there, Dau'el ' J9an. When 1 was |,ayii; '.he man for the'n birds [Mus. P. kickt kim\ Creation ! uiotlier you're like thr stocks you can't move fc'thout crushir. somebody well, he'd got this here pair o' booU ruder hi? arm why, ses I, if ever der was a foot created small nough to go iuto them, thar, it is Miss Lucy's so I brought them fo" f ou to look at. Lucy. They are too dear for me, Dan, p ra y g' ve them'bacic. Dan. Well, ye see the man lias kinder gone, Miss he said Wd call again some time next fall Mrs. F. Dan Mrs. Puffy you are good, kind, dear souls when the friends of our bettar days ha/e deserted us when the r-ch will scarcely deign to remember us you, without any design, but with the goodness of God in your hearts without any hope but that of hiding your kindness, you help me. Give me your hands 1 owe you too much already but you must bestow 011 us uo more out of your poverty. Mrt. P. Lord, Mrs ! just as if rue and Puffy could bestow any - thing rnd what's Dan fit for 7 Dan. Yea what's I'm lit for! Mrs. F. Well, 1 will accept your dinner to-day on one condition- - that you viil all diue with us. Mrs. P. Oh my ! Dine with up-town folks ! Lufy. \rs indeed, Dan. you must. Dan. Lord, miss! I aint no account, at dinin' with folks I tak my food on the fust pile of bricks, anyhow. Mrs. P. I'm accustomed to mine standin', behind the counter. Dan. We never set down to it, square out except on Sundays. Mrs. P. Then it don't seem natural we never eat, each of us u employed a helping of the other. Dan. I'll fix it! father, and mother, and I, will all wait on you. Lucy. [Laayhi\g.\ That's one way of dining together, certainly. Enter PAUL and LIVINGSTONE. LH>. Here wo are. Why. what a comfortable little cage this is ! Dan. Let me take your coat and hat, sir. Liv. Thank you. ( Exit DAN and MRS. PDKFY.] How like the old times, eh, Lucy 1 [Sits by her. Mrs. F. [Aside to PAIL.] Well, Paul, have you obtained employ meet? Paid. No, mother; but Livingstone is rich he must have influence, %nd be will assist me. Mrs. F. Heaven help us i I fear that the worst is not coma Paul Nonsense, mother- cheer up ! Is there anything you ha? rx:ncealed from me 1 Mrt. F. No nothing you need Kuoir. . Arlr.l *f b lww that fo< HTQ weeks we have been ul>ri*uua o tUc clxritr 01 th^sr poo* people* *HB POOR OF KEVT YORK. fl Urr MRS. PFFFY w^/i a pie. followed by DAS with a roast ckitkt* and PUKPV, loaded urith vlates and various articles of (font* service. Mrs. P. Here it is. Lucy. Stay we must lay more covers ; help me, Paul. Liv. Let me assist you. [ They join another table to the fyst, Mrs. F. Mr. and Mrs. Puffy and Dan dine with us. Paul. Bravo ! Liv. Hail Columbia ' [DAH begins dancing about. Lucy Why, Dan wnat's the matter ? Dan. On, nothing, iruw. Lucy. How red your face is ! Dan. Don't mind, miss. Mrs. P. Oh Lord ! I forgot that dish; it has been in the oven fo in hour. Dan. It aint at all hot. [PAUL touches it and jumps away.] It' jot to burn into the bone afore George Washington^Nc. 4 gives in. [Lays down the plate thry all sii. Pfjfy. Now, this is agreeable 1 have not felt so happy since I iiarted my forty horse power oven. Lie. This pie is magnificent. fMns. PCFFY rises. Mrs. P. Oh, sir, you tnake me feel good. Dan \ Holding the table. | Mother can't express her feelings with oat upsetting the table. Enter two SHERIFF'S OFFICERS. Paul. What persons are these? Puffy What do you want? First Sheriff's Officer. I am the Deputy Sheriff I come atth sul of Gideon Bloodgood, against Susan Fainveather and Jonas Puffy Amount of debt and costs, one hundred and fifty dollars. Paul. My mother I Puffy. He said he would see about it Oh, Mrs. Fainveathei ~I bope you will forgive me I could'nt help it. Dtpuiy Sheriff. I do not want to distress you; Mr. Livingnston* will perhaps pay the debt or give me his check. Paul Livingstone ! Liv. [After a pause.] I cannot help you. Yes, I will rather appea? what lam, a ruined man, than seem a contemptible one- -I am put rdloss, broken f >r weeks 1 have been so but Inevei J&ll my pcverty Tableau. KID or ACT a *1 A THR POOB 07 KBW YORK JftJENE. A Room tit the house ufQiosoy BLOODOOOD, the fu.-nitvrt and ornaments are in a style of exaggerated richness white taint and gold. BLOODGOOD is discovered writing at a table on one sidf ALIDA seated reading a newspaper on the other. Blood. What are you reading? \lida. The New York Herald. Blood. You seem interested in it 7 Alida. Very. Shall I read aloud 1 Blood. Do. f Goes on writing. Alida. [Reads.} " Wall street is a perch, on which a row of humai rnltures sit, whetting tiieir beaks, ready to fight over the carcass of; d/ing enterprise. Amongst these birds of prey, the most vulturous i perhaps Qid Bloodgood. This popular financier made his fortune ii the lottery business. He then dabbled a little in the slave trade, tv the Paraqui la case proved, iast week by a speculation in flour In made fifty thousand dollars, this operation raised the price of breat four cents a loaf, and now there are a thousand people starving in tht hovels of New York we nominate Qid for Congress, expenses to be paid by the admiring crowd send round the hat." Father! [Rises. J Are \ou not rich 1 JSloaSf. Why do you ;tsk '! Alida. Because people say that riches are worshipped in New York that wealth alone graduates society. This is false, for I am young, handsome and your heiress yet I arn refused admission into the best families here whose intimacy I have sought. Blood. Refused admission ! Is not Fifth Avenue open to you 1 Alida. Fifth Avenue ! that jest is stale. Fifth Avenue is a shop where the richest fortunes are displayed like the dry goods in Stew- art's windows, and like them, too, are changed daily. But why do we not visit those families at whose names all men and all journals bow with respect, ihe Livingstones, the Astors, Van Benssalaers. Father, these families receive men. less rich than you and honor many g:na Who don't dress as well as I do, nor keep a carriage. Blood. Is not the Duke of Caicavella at iuy feet ? Alida. The Duke de Caicavella is an adventurer to whom you lend money. who escorts me to my box at the ope "a that he may get ic tree. Blood. Yon minx, you know you love him. Alida. \ a.:, no; speaking of love but of marriage. Blood. Marriage : Y^s, marnagp ! This society in New York which has shut it iu from amongst these families that I hav loo-e a .husband. Hs doors jMolved tc> Blood. [ Rising.] Alida, do you already yearn to leave me 7 Fo? fou alone I have hoarded my wealth men have thought me miserly, when i U5*e had but one treasure iu the wor'd. and that was yo'i n. Hiy child. To the rest of my fellow creatures I have We cold anft tklculating, because in you alone was buried all the love my hoiH could feel my fortune, take it, gratify your caprices take it all, bm leave me vour afl'ection. Alida. You talk as if I were still a child. Blood. I would to God you were ! Oh, Alida, if you ku*w fearful a thing it is for a man like me to lose the only thing k V* ' orld that ties him to it ! Alida. Do you wish me to marry the Duke de Calcavella 1 Blood. A rente, a gambler ! Heaven forbid ! Alida. Besides, they say he has a wife in Italy. Blood. I shall forbid him the house. Alida. No, you won't. Blood. His reputation will compromise yours. Alida. Judge my nature by your own I may blush from angei - aever from shame. Enter EDW-ARDS Edw. Mr. Mark Livingstone. A'.KM. Livingstone! this is the first time that name has ever been luuoanced in this house. Blood. He comes on business. Tell Mr. Livingstone I cannot IK* him. Beg him to call at ray office to-morrow. Alida. Show him up. 3lood. Alida! Alida. [Sharply to EDWARDS.] Do you hear me 1 Blood. This is tyranny I I [In a rage to EDWARDS.] Well, blockhead, why do" you stand staring there '( Don't you hear the order! Show him up. [Exit EDWARDS. Alida. Livingstone ! Enter MAKE. LIVINGSTONE. Mark. Mr. Bloodgood Miss Bloodgood [Bows.] I am most for- tunate to find you at home. Alida. I trust that Mrs. Livingstone your mother, and Miss Living- tcQO your sister, are well 1 Mark. [Coldly.] I thank you. \ Gaily. \ Allow me to assure yon that you were the belle of the opera last night. Alida. Yet you did not flatter me with your presence in onr box. Mark. You noticed my absence ! you render me the happiest and yroudes.' member of my club. Alida. By the way, papa, I thought you were going to be a mera ||pr of the Union. Mark. Ahem! {ya/i awkward silenct.] He was black-balled lar, week. Blood. 1 think, Mr. Livingstone you have soiue business with mo. Alida. Am I in the way 1 Mark. Not at all the fact is, Miss Bloodgood my business cu ie explained ir. three words Blood THK POOR OF XRW TOR* Mcnk, 1 am ruined. Alida Ruined ! Mark. My father lived in those days when fancy stocks were known, and consequently was in a position to leave me a tortun. I spent it extravagantly foolishly. My mother, who love* BO " not wisely but too well," heard that, my name was pledged f M a large amount, Mr. Bloodgood held my paper she sold out all h* fortune without my knowledge, and rescued my credit from dishonor Blood. Allow mo to observe, 1 think she acted honorably, but fool hhly. Mark. [Bows to Bloodgood.] She shared my father's ideas on thea tatters; well, [turns to ALIDA,] finding I was such good pay, yooi lather lent me a further sum of money, with which I speculated it tocks to recover my mother's loss 1 bulled the market lost bor rowed more the crisis came I lost again until I found mysell rained. Blood. [Rising.] Mr. Livingstone, I anticipate the object of your present visit you desire some accommodation I regret that it is out of my power to accord it. If you had applied to me a few days earlier I might have been able to but a at the present moment it is quite impossible. Mark. [Aside] Impossible the usual expression I am familiar with it. [Rising aloud.] I regret exceedingly that I did not fall on that more fortunate moment to which you allude a thousand pardons for my untimely demand Blood. I hope you believe that I am sincere when I say Mark. Ob ! 1 am sure of it. Accept my thanks good morning, Miss Bloodgood. Blood. [Ringing the bell.] I trust you will not be put to serioui Inconvenience. Mark. Oh, no. [Asids.] A revolver will relieve me of every diffi- culty. [Aloud.] Good day, Mr. Bloodgood. [Exit. Blood. 1 like his impudence ! To come to me for assistance ! Lei him seek it of his aristocratic friends his club associates who black- balled me last week. Alida. [ Who has been seated writing at table.] Father, come Ler. Blood. What is it] Alida. I am writing a letter which I wish you to sign. Blood. To whom ] Alida. To Mr. Livingstone. Blood. To Livingstone I Alida. Head it. Blood. [Reads.] " My dear sir, give yoarself no further anxiety about your dobt to me ; I will see that your notes are paid and if thi lean often thousand dollars will serve you, I beg to hold that amonU t your service, to be repaid at your convenience. Yours truly,' \Th/rowtnq down letter.] I will write nothing of the kind Alida. You are mistaken you will write ue tiling l*e Blof'd With what object 1 Anda. I want to make a purchase. Ax* of what i POOK OF >KW YORK. 2) Alia** Of a husband a husband who is a gentleman and through *hom I can ^ahi that position yon cannot with all your wealth ittain y^u joe the tiling is cheap there's the pen. [She rings a bell Blood. Is your mind so set on this ambition 1 Alida. If it cost half your fortune. [BLOODOCOD ngn. Enter EDWARDS. ; To servant.} Deliver this letter immediately. Edw. \ Takes the letter and is going out, when he runt againsi BADQBB, who is coolly entering.} I have told you already that my naster is not to be seen. Bad. So you did but yon see how mistaken you were. There h to I can see him distinctly. Blood. Badger! [To EDWARDS.] You may go, Edwards. Bad. [To EDWARDS.] James get out. Blood. What can he want here! Bad. Respected Gideon, excuse my not calling more promptly, but ince my return from California, this is my first appearance in fashioo tble society. Alida. [Proudly.] Who is this fellow 1 Bad. Ah, Alida, how is the little tootles 1 You forget me. Alida. How can I recollect every begging imposter who importunes my father. Bad. Charming ! The same as ever changed in form but the beart, my dear Gideon, the same ever, is hard and dry as a biscuit. Alida. Father, give this wretch a dollar and let him go. Bad. Hullo! Miss Bloodgood, when I hand round the hat it is time, uough to put something in it. Gideon, ring a&J send that girl of yours to her nurse. Alida. Is this fellow mad 1 Blood. Hush ! my dear ! Alida. Speak out your bus mesa I am familiar with all my faLh- ir's affairs. Bad. All 1 I doubt it Enter EDWA.B.DS, followed by LOOT. Edw. This way, Miss. [To ALIDA.] Here is your dress uaker. Alida. [Eyeing LUCY.] Ha! you are the young person I met thU oruing walking with Mr. Livingstone? T.ucy. Yes, madam. Alida. Hum ! follow me, and let me see if you can attend on ladiiw * diligently as you do on gentlemen. [Exeunt AI.IDA and Lror. Blood. [Looking inquiringly at BADGES.] So you are here again. 1 thought you were dead. Bad. No ; here I am like a bad shilling, come back aaain. I' v been all over the world bince we parted twenty years ago. Your 8,000 dollars laited me for some months in California. Believe me, had 1 know -i tMt, ijntead of absconding, you remained in New York, 1 *ouli? bvt fastened back again ton years ago. to ahar* your rsrivw) THB FUOit OP NKH TOB&. I am at a loss to understand your allusions, air, nor d > i Know the object of your return to this city. We have plenty of suck persons as you in New York. Bad. The merchants of San Francisco did not IhJnk so, foi th*y inbscribed to send me home. Blood. What do you mean 1 Bad. I mean the Vigilance Committee. Blood. And what do you intend to do here? Bad. Reduced in circumstances and witt^nt character, the on)) resource left to me is to start a bank. Blood, Weil, Mr Badger ; I cannot see in what way these thing* can affect me ! Bad. Can't you 1 Ahem ! Do yon evor read the Sunday papers 1 Blood. Never. Bad. I've got a romance ready for one of them allow me to give you a sketch of it. Blood. Sir t Bad. The scone opens in a bank in Nassau street. Twenty years ago a rery respectable old sea captain, one winter's night, makes a special deposit, of one hundred thousand dollars nobody present but the banker and one clerk. Th old captain takes a receipt and goes on his way rejoicing but, lo ! and behold you ! in half an hour he re turns having ascertained a fact or two, he demands his money bacA, but while receiving it he is seized by a fit of apoplexy, cind he die* on the spot. End of Chapter One. * Blood. Indeed, Mr. Badger, your romance is quite original. Bad. Ain't it! never "heard it before, did you 1 no! Good! Chapter Two. [Pointedly.] The banker and his clerk carried the body ont on the sidewalk, where it was discovered, and the next day th Coroner's Jury returned a verdict accordingly. The clerk receiv- ing 3,000 dollars hush money left for parts unknown The ban- ker remained in New York, and on the profits of this plunder es- tablished a colossal fortune. End of Part No. 1 to be continued iu our next. Blood. And what do you suppose such a romance will be worth 7 Bad. I've come to you to know. Blood. I am no judge of that. Bad. Ain't you 1 well in Part No. 2,1 propose to relate that tbii history is true iu every particular, and I shall advertise for the heiii of the dead man. Blood. Ha ! you know his name then 1, Bad, Yos. but I see you don't. I wrote tho acknowledgment wLiak you signed yon had not even the curiosity then to read the name o' ycur victim. Blood. Really, Mr. Badger, I am at a loss to understand you. Do you mean to insinuate that this romance applies in any way to toe 1 Bad. It has a distant reference. Blood. Youi memory is luxurious perhaps it can furnish soutf otter evidence of this wonderful story than the word of a convict tjected from California as a precaution of public safety, THK POOB OP HEW TOUR IE Bad. You ara right my word is not worth much. Blood. I fear not. Sad. But the receipt, signed by you, ie worth a good daal Bleed. [Starting.] Ha! you lie! Bad. Let us proceed with my romance. When the banker nud h al^rk searched for the receipt, they could not find it- -a circumstn *vhicli only astonished one of the villains because the clerk ba*. Edu>. Mr. Paul Fairweather ! Enter PAUL. BADOER starts, thenfaUs laughing n a tkavr. Blood. Your business, sir, with me. Paul. Oh. pardon me, Mr. Bloodgood but the officerg have seized ihe furniture of our landlord of your tenant for a debt owed by inj Bother. I come to ask your mercy utter ruin awaits two poor fam ilios. Bad. Oh, Supreme Justice! there is the creditor, and there is tha dsbtor. Paul. My mother ray sister I plead for them, not for myself Blood. \ have waited lone enough. . Bad. [Rising.] So have I. [To PADL.J Itaw you no friend* or i*- latioi s to help you 1 faul. None, sir ; my father is dead. [BLOODGOOD returns to hu table. Bloat. Enough of this. 'Rings the bell. Bad. Not quite ; I feel interested in this vcung gentleman dot n>u ? Blijod. Net at all ; therefore my servant will show you both out ,4-ou raay talk this matter over elsewhere. Jyad. [To PAL'I.] Your name is famtliar to me was your father it lo? fetus. He was a s*a captain. tad. Ah 1 he died nobly in some storm. I sunpose thf last to kvt THE POOB OP MEW TOkC Pttvl. N , sir, he d5d miserably ! in years ago, bis bodj m* rand on the sidewalk iu Liberty street, where he fell dad by *{MI plexy. tOoaJL [Ruing.] Ah! Ente- EDWABDB. Sad James, show us out we'll talk over this matter else w her* Blood. No you you can remain. Leave us, Edwards. Sad. Ah, I told you that the young man was quite interesthg ^Iphonsf, get out. [Exit EDWABEB. Blood. My dear Mr. Badger, 1 think wo have a little business U Krttle together! Bad. Yes, my dear Gideon. [Aside to him.] Stocks have gone up~ T want fifty thousand dollars for that receipt. Blood. Fifty thousand ! Bad. [Aside.] You see the effect of good news on the market, quite astounding ; ain't it 1 C ' Blood If you will step down to the dining-room, yon will find luncl prepared refresh yourself, while I see what can be done for thi young man. Bad. [Aridt.] What are you up to1 You want to fix him-- to try some game to euchre me. Go it ! I've got the receipt ; you'r* on the hook takeout all the line you want. \CaJls.} Ho! without there ! Enter EDWARDS. Maximilian, vanios! Show me to the banqnetting-hall. [Exit, with EDWABDB. Blood. Your situation interests me ; but surely, at your age yoi can find employment. Paul. Alas, sir, in theW times, it is impossible. I would work yes, at ar.y kind of labor submit to anything, if I could save mj moi her and my sister from want. Blood. Control your feelings : perhaps I can aid you. Paul. Oh, sir, 1 little expected to find in you a benefactor. Blood. My correspondents at Rio Janeiro require a book-keoper- are you prepared to accept this situation 1 but there is a condition Attached to this employment that may not suit you you most stai by the vessel which sails to-morrow. Paul. To-morrow ! Blood. I will hand you a thousand dollars in advance of salary, If provide for your mother and sister ; they had better leave this citj Wtil they can follow you. You hesitate. Paul. Oh, sir, 'tis my gratitude that renders me silent. Blood You airept 7 the trms are two thousand dollars a year. Paul. [Seizing hu hand.] Mr. Bloodgood, the prayers of a faff^ whom you have made happy, will prosjxjr your life. God bless yon sir ! I s[>eak not for mysalf, but for those still more dear to me. Blood. Call again in an hour, when your papers of introduction and Ihe monoy shall be ready. Paul Farewell, air. 1 can scarcely believe my good fortune ffittf THB FOOR OF EW TOBK. J Blood. Sc, now to secure Badger. [Sitting down and writing.] H must, at any risk, be prevented from communicating with the mother nd daughter until they can be sent into some obscure retreat. I doubt that he is in possession of this receipt, [rings a bell,] but 1 wUl telce an assurance about that. [Ringt. Enter EDWARDS. take this letter instantly to the office of the Superintendent of Polio* Sni EDWARDS.] Ha! Badger, when you find the heirs of th* estate gone, you will perhaps come down in your terms. You iid not remain long enough in California to measure wits with Gidooc Bloodgood. \Exit Enter LUCY. f/ucy I will do my best, miss, to please you. On, et me hastet from this house ! Enter MARK LiviifosToss. Mark. Lucy ! Lucy. Mark ! Mark. What brings yon here 7 Lucy. What brings the poor into the saloons cf the rich 1 Enter ALIDA, unseen, by the others. Alt da. [Aside.] Mr. Livingstone here, and with this girl! Mark. My dear Lucy I have news, bright news, that will light op a nmie. in your eyes I am once more rich. But liefore I relate mj good fortune, let me hear from you the consent to share it. Lucy. What do you mean 1 Murk. I mean, deaiest one. that I love you I love you with all my reckless, foolish, worthless heart. AUda. [Advancing.] Mr. Livingstone; n^ father is waiting for you Ji his study. Mark. A thousand pardons, Miss Bloodgood ; I was not aware- excuse me. [Aside.] I wonder if she overheard me. [T<> LPCY.] I will 8t?e you again this evening. [Exit. Alida. [To LUCY, who is going.] Stay; one word with yon. Mr. Livingtone loves you 7 do not deny it, I have overheard you. Lucy. Well, Miss Bloodgood. I have no account, to render you ii '1 is matter. A'ida. I beg your pardon he is to be my husbaud. Lucy. Your husband ] Altda, Ee quiet and listen. Mr. Livingstone is ruined ray father -*s come to his aid ; but one word from me, and the hand, extended '< save him from destruction, will be withdrawn. Lucy. But you will not 8)>eak that word 1 Ahda. That depends Lucy. OD what 1 hK acceptance of your hand 7 ho dost not lowi pou. Alida That is not the question. You have overheard that he !ov vu. lliaa. That is no concern of mine. K THB POOH 09 SSU fOUK. Lucy. And you will coldly buy Ijhis man for a husband, that you condemn him to eternaljnisery ! Alida. Tou are candid, but not complimentary. Let on hope tiiai in time he will forget you, and learn to endure me. Lucy. Oh, you do not love him. I see, it is his name yon require to cover the shame which stains your father's, and which all his sealtb f*nnot conceal. Thank Heaven ! his love foi mo A ill preserve hiw om such a cowardly scheme. Alida. I will make him rich. What would v nuke him 7 lAtcy. I would make him happy. Alida. Will you give him up 1 Lucy. Never ! Alida. Be it so. Re-enter MARK. Mark Lucy, dear Lucy, do you see that lad. "-^ehe is my gnardian angel. To her I owe my good fortune Mr. K >cdt,ood ha* lold me all, and see, this letter is in her own handwriting- now, let me confess. Miss Bloodgood, that had I not teen thus rob i red from ruin, 1 had no other resource but a Colt's revolver. Lucy. Mark ! Mark. Yes, Lucy I had resolved I could not endure th ''jam* and despair which beset me on all sides. But let us not talk < > mob madness let us only remember that I owe her my life. Alida. [Aside.] And I intend to claim the debt. Mark. More than my life I owe to her all that happineia \ * ' % you will bestow upon me. Lucy. Me ! me ! Mark ! No, it is impossible. Mark. Impossible ! Lucy. I cannot be your. .wife. Mark. What n^ean you, Lucy? Lufy. [ With a supreme effort.} I I do not love you. Mark. You je.'t, Lucy yet, no there are tears in yoor eyes Lucy. [Looking away.] Did I ever tell yon that I loved yon'* Mark. No, it is true but your manner, your looks, I thought Lucy. You are not angry with me, are you 1 Mark. I love you too sincerely for that, arid believe me 1 will nevtt *ntrude again on your family, where my presence now can only pro- duce pain and restraint : may I hope, however, that you will retain enough kindness towards ine. as to persuade your mother to accept my friendship 1 It will soothe the angvJsh you have innocently in- Sicted, if your family will permit me to assist them. Have you t.b. generosity to make this atonement? I know it will pain you ail- but you owe it to me. [Lncv/oIZs, weeping, in a cka\r.] Pardon mo ; Miss Bloodgood. Farewell, Lucv. [To ALIRA.] I take my leave. I Exit. Alida. He has gone you may dry your eyes. Lucy. Oh ! I know what starvation is I have met want fa<: to face, and I have saved him from that torrlble extremity. Alida. He offerd vou rooucv; I nb->nld trefer that my huab: ^ THE POUR OK JfBW r. Should i.ot have pecuniary relations with you at least, not at pr tit so, as you aro in waul here is some assistance. [Offers her pur te to Lrc-T. Lucy. [Rising,} You insult me, Miss Bloodgood. Alida. How can an offer of money insult anybody 7 Lucy, You thought I sold my heart no I gave it. Keep yooi gold, it would soil my poverty ; yon have made two fellow-beingj chappy for life God forgive you ! [Erit Re-enter BLOODQOOD, Blood. What is the matter, Alicia 1 Re-enter BADGER. Bad. Your cook is perfect, your wine choice. [lit pockets the xap h'.] Well, now suppose we do a little business. Blood. [Rings beli.] It is time we began to understand each other. Enter EDWARDS. Has that letter been delivered 1 [EDWARDS bows, and at a sign from BLOODGOOD, exit. Bad. Do you wish to enter into particulars in the presence of thit (harming creature ? Blood. Her presence will not affect our business. Re-enter EDWARDS, and two POLICE OFFICERS. Bad. Just as you please. What proposition have you to make 1 Blood. I propose to give you into custody for an attempt to extort money by threats and intimidation. 1st. Pol. You are our prisoner. Bad. Arreeldd ! Blood. Let him be searched ; on his person will be found a receipt igned by me, which he purloined from my desk yonder. Bad. Well played, my dear Gideon, but, knowing the character of iLc society into which I was venturing, I left the dear document oaf* a home. Good morning, Gid Miss Bloodgood, ynjwj. General Ookvnai take care of me. [Gat* vp w& or *0t m. TBl FCOR OK HHW r< KK. Ad &, 3C.& ACT HT. 8CENF I. Union Square Night. The jnow faJtt. dtscoeeied, R. H.,with a pan of roasting chestnut* P*8t crouches in a corner of the street. Puffy. Lord ! how cold it is. I can't sell my chestnuts. I thought \f I posted myself just here, so as to catch the grand folks as they gc TJ the opera, they might fancy to take in a pocket-full, to eat daring ae performance. KbtfrrDAX , with two trunks on his shoulders, followed by a GBICTLBMAB, Dan. There is the hotel. I'll wait here while you see if you can jet a room [Exit GENTLEMAN, into hotel. Puffy. Dan, my boy, what cheer 7 Dan. This is the fust job I've had to-day. Puffy- I' V 6 not taken a cent. Dan. Have you been home to dinner 1 Puffy. No ; I took a chestnut. There wasn't more than enough for the old woman and you, so I dined out. Dan. I wasn't hungry much, so I boried a bit o' 'bacca. Puffy. Then the old woman had all the dinner, that's some comfort one of us had a good meal to-day. Dan. I don't know, father she's just ugly enough to go and pot It by for our supper. Enter MRS. PDFFT, with a tin can. Puffy. Her** she is. Mrs. P. Ain't yon a nice pair 1 For five mortal hours I've been carry in' this dinner up and down Broadway. Dan. I told you so. Mrs. P. You thought to give old mother the slip, you undootiful rillin but I've found ye both. Come, here's your suppers I've kept it warm under my cloak. Puffy- Lay the table on the gentleman's trunk. Dan. [Looking into the tin can.] A splendid lump of bread, tnd * shunk of beef! Puffy Small feed for three human beings. Dan. Here goes. Puffy. Stay, Dan. [Playing his hands over the bread. ] God bleu ts, and pity the Poor of New York. Now, I'll share the food in three. Dan F Pointing to PAUL.] Father, that cuss in the corner then tooks kinder bad suppose you have the food in four. Mr. P. I don't want none. Give him mine I ain't at all cold. Dan. Mother, there's a tear on the end of your uose let me break (toff. Mrt. P. Get out. Dan. [Takit a jrim* of bread, and goes to PAUL] Hello, stnumr! He's asleep. TUB POOR OK M-i-.N -juIIIU -1 Brt P. Then don't wake him. Leave the bread in his \.\, [['A* Together Mrs. F. My Son ! ) Paul. Oh, mother! ray own Lucy! my heart is broken! [Th*i fmbrace.] Have you concealed from me the extent of your misery 1 Mrs. F My son ! my poor children ! I cannot see you dv. of hun- ger and cold ' Ptiul. Take Lucy home, mother and I will bring you food. Mrs. F. Paul, promise me that nothing will tempt you to a dtahon orable act. Paul. Do not fear, mother ; the wretched have always one resourx they can die I l)o not weep, Lucy in an hour I will be with yr u [ Exeunt Lucy and MHH. F. I will go and await the crowd as they leave the Academy of Music amongst, them Heaven will inspire some Christian heart to aid me. :LTt. * SCENE IT. The vestibule of the Academy of Music. Eater ALIDA and LIVINGSTONE. Music within. Alida. How strange that my father has not returned. Mark. Allow me to look for the carriage. Alida. I will remain iiere. Exit LIVINGSTONE. At last I have won the husband I desire. lie is entangled in my fa- ther's debt : in one month hence I shall be Livingstone's wife. Our boa !s now crowded with the first people in New York. The dear Dnk still makes love to me to which Livingstone appears indifferent se nanch the better once Mrs. Livingstone he mavdo as he likes and sc will I. Enter PAUL. Pavl. Ah ! 'tis she Alida Bloodgood. Alida. I wonder they permit such vagabond* to hane about thf opera. Re-enter LIVINGSTONS. Hark. The carriage is ready [Recognizing PAPI] Paul Paul. Livingstone ! Mark. Great heaven ! In what a condition do I find you. Paul. We are pooi we are starving. Alida Give the fellow a dollar, and send him away. Mark. My dear Alida, you do not know this is a school- fellow ID old friend I know that you an* keeping me in the cold ah ! I tbt YH roon or irsw tost Duke of Calcavella on the steps yonder, smoking a cigar Ht. will ioe me home, don't let mo take you from your old i'rieud. [Exit. Mark. [Aside.] Cold heartless girl! [Aloud.] Come, ?anl, corao quickly, bring me to where I shall find your mother your sister *t*y, let me first go home, and get money, I will meet you at yoni lodgings- where do you live 1 Paul. Number nineteen and a half Cross street Five Feints I till wait for you at the door. Mark. In less than an hour. I shall be there. [Exeunt. ' ACT" & Sc. */ JOENE. ..Vb. 19*2 Cross street Five Points. Two adjoining atttt rooms. That C/BADOER, L. H. Tliatofthe FAiRWEATHER/ait7f E. H. ifuiic. LUCY is seated c. and MRS. FAIBWBATHER kneels n. Lucy. Sure!y an hour has passed and Paul has not returned. Mrs. F. Ob, merciful father! protect my poor children. Enter BADGKH tn his attic R. H. with his box of matches. He serapei stveral which do not light. MRS. F. rises and goes to window. Bud. One hundrei matches like that for one cent. [Lighting one.} Oh, lucky ".hance ! Here's one that condescends. [Lights a candle in a bottle. Mrs. F. Day after dty goes by no hope the future wort,e thai, t^e present 4ark dark. Oh ! this load of wretchedness is too much to bear. Lucy. The candle is going out. Mrs. F. So much the better, I shah not be able to see your tears. [Lucy rests her face on her hands. Bad. [Taking a bottle fr a * his pocket.] There's the concentrated essence of comfort the poor man's plaster for the inside. Lucy. [Aside.] Is there no w^y to end this misery 1 None but death ! Bod. [ Taking from pocket a slice of bread and meat wrapped in a bit of newspaper.] Here's my supper. [Addressing an imaginary servant.] James, lay the table spread the table cloth. " Yes sa" [Places the newspaper over the table.] 't's cold here, there's a draught in this room, somewhere. James. chaiu>agne. Thank you, James. [Drinks and eats. Mrs. F. [Aside, coming down R.J If Pai'l had only Lucy to sup- port, tlmy might live why should I prolong ray life only to hastez theirs. Bad. The draught comes from [examining thi wall] yes thert are great chinks in the wall I must see my landlord and solicit repairs. A new family mored into the next room, yesterday ; I won- der who they are 1 Lucy. The wretched always have one resource they can die ! Bad. [At his table eating he has taken the blanket from hit bci 3 4*d wrapped it about his shoulders.] Now let us do a little bui>ii:es turn up the gas. Y'es sa ! I He snuffs the candli with \ 44 TH8 POOR Of KKW YORK- ' Angeri J Thank yon. Ahem ! Jtmcs, Bloodgood A t ominy for MM receipt bequeathed to me by the old sailor. What price shall we sot upon it, James ? (1 Lucy. [Aside.] When I am gone, there will be one mouth leas tc feed Paul will have but one care to provide for. Mrs.F. [Aside] In this room, we had some charcoal there u vire tars, 710 more suffering. ' %iit into closet, a. H THB KJOR OP K.T TORE. Re-enter BADGBR. J3*d. So I tLat is settled. I hope he will be cautious and escapt vh gai roujrs. James, inv chibouque. | JTaAef Aw jHp. Re-enter MRS. FAIRWBATHBB, R. H. Jfr*. /". Poor Lucy ! I dared not look back upon her, *r we parted forever Despr.i: hastened my steps. My poor children ! I nave >;iver you all I had, ana now I hope my wretched life will serve you in yui terrible need. Come, courage ; let me prevent the fresh air frcra en- tering. [ Takes bits of linen and stops window and door. Bad, [Snvjfing.] I smell charcoal burning charcoal where car H come from ? Mrs. F. Now let ine stop the door. Bad. [Smoking.] It's very odd; I've a queer feeling in my head ; let me lie down awhile. [Lies on his bed. Enter LUCT, with a brazier of charcoal, alight. Mrt. F. That's done. [Going towards closet, and meeting LDCT.J Now the hour has come. Lucy. The moment has arrived. f Sets down the brazier. Mrs. F. Lucy ! I/ucy. Mother! Mrs. F. My child, what is thisl For what purpose are you herel Lucy. And you, mother, why have you fastened those apertures so closely 1 Like ma, you wished to die ' Mrs. F. No, no, you shall not die ! my darling child you are young life is before yon hope happiness. Lucy. The future ! what is it 1 The man I love will soon wed ano ther. I have no future, and the present is a torture. Mrs. F. Hush, my child, hush ! litcy. Is it not better to die thus, than by either grief or hunger > Mrs*. F. [Fatting in a chair.] Already my senses fail me. Lucy my child, live, live ! Lucy. [Falls at herfett.] No; let us die together thus, mother- as often I knelt to you as a child, let me pray for those we love. Mrs. F. Oh, merciful Judge in heaven, forgive us forgive mr Hld and It- 1 your anger fall on me alone Lucy. God bless my dear brother and you ray dear Mark, may you be hap [JUurmers the rest of the prayer. Bad. It's very cold ! I feel quite sleepy. I must not go to sleep, (Sings in a low voice.] " Oh, down in ole Virginny." Paul. [ Without, knocking.] Mother, open the door, why is the* door locked 1 Mother, mother ! Open, mother, open ! [Knockt violently. MR&. F,. arising, tries to reach the door, but cannot, and falls. PAUL bursts open the door and enters with LIVINGSTONS ; thtf ttart back LIVINGSTONE breaks the window, and PAUL runs to ktf mother.] Too late! too Iat ! They have committed suicide ! Hark Thev liv* sf.il 1. Quick, bear them outside into the aw *H P00 OF \RW 10EK. Leer . out vhilt PAUL assists A is mother into the text room Bad. [Starting up.] How hot it is here I cannot breathe. Hay I drui k too much 1 Nonsense ! 1 coHd drink a dozen such Mitles. Let me try my legs a bit where's the door ? I can't see it my heac ipins round come, Badger, no nonsense now. God ! I'm suffocating ' Am I going to die, to die! like that old ea captain 7 [Tears of hit erarat. ] Justice of Heaven ! I am strangling. Help ! help ! Bloodgood will return and find me helpless, then he wi'l rob me of the receipt, a* I robbed the old sailor I know him of old he is capable of it, bu< he shall not have it ! There, in its nook, if 1 h? ve strength to reach itr- U is safe safe. [Drags himself along the floor l*fit up a loote board puts the receipt beneath it and fails exhausted] There! faul. [Entering R. H room.] I heard smothered <"is for help-- they came from this floor. 'Km. Enter ELOOPGOOD, L. H. room. Blood. Here I am, Badger. [Start* back, suffocated.} What a 8ii- focatiMj> atroosphere ! where is he 1 ha ! is he intoxicated? Paul. [Entering L. H. room.] Perhaps the cry came from here dead 7 Blood. Paul Fairw?ather ! I'aul. Gideon Bloodgood 1 L J ad. 'Sailing his head.] What names were those 1 Both of them Tojieilitr here! [To PAUL] Listen while I yet hare breath u upeak .jsten ! Twenty years ago, that man robbed your father oi |10t 1,000! J'aul. Robbed! Blood. Scoundrel ? Bad. I've got the proofs. Paul. The proofs 1 Bud. I have 'em safe > >u'll lind 'em th ah [FaUa ; PAUL and BLOODOOOD stand aghast* &n> "T9 if NKW TOR. 1 BOENE I. Brooklyn Heights, overlooking the city of New Fork And its harbors. The stage is occupied by a neat garden, an a natu- ral ttrracs of the heights on the L. H., a frame cottage, prettily built a table, with breakfast laid, L. H., at which MRS. FAIRWKA THBR and PAUL are seated. Enter MRS. PcpFY,/rci the cottage, w%th a teapot. Mrs. P. There's the tea. Bless me, how hot it is to-day ! wbc would think that we were in the month of February 1 [Sitf. Mrs. F. Your husband is late to breakfast. Paul. Here he comes. Enter PUFFY, gaily. Puffy. How is everybody 1 and above everybody, how is Miss Lucy liis morning 1 [Sits at table. Mrs. F. Poor child ! bar recovery fs slow the fever has abated, but she is still very weak. Paul. Her life is saved for a whole month she hovered over th grave. Puffy. But how is it we never see Mr. Livingstone! our benefactor Is like Santa Glaus he showers benefits and blessings on us ail, ret never shows us his face. Mrs. F. He brought us back to thi, our old home he obtained employment for Paul in the Navy Yard. Puffy- " e set me P again in my patent oven, and got me a gov- arnment contract for Navy biscuit. Mrs. P. He is made of the finest flour that heaven ever put intc human baking; ho'll die of over- bigness of the heart. Mrs. F. Thai's a disease hereditary in your family. Paul. [Rising.} I will tell you why Livingstone avoids our grati- Mide. Because my sister Lucy refused his love because he has sold his hand tc Alida Bloodgood and he lias given ua the purchase mo ney. "I'vffy. Ar^I tucr ngst those who have erv^c-ia) service to lav ca to , it seems has concentrated there, and we want to cawJi a Dig ntwnder. Mn. P- They all go to Europe. Puffy. That accounts for the drain of specie. [MR. and MRS. P. take off the breakfast tab*. Mr. F. 1 will tell Lucy that her nurse has come. [Exit into ccttagt. Paul. Now, Badger, the news. Had. Bad, sir. To-night Mr. Livingstone is to be married to Alidn lloodgood. Paul What shall I do 1 I dare not accuse Bloodgood of this rob- wry, unless you can produce the proofs and perhaps the wretch has Uscovered and destroyed them. Bad. I think not. When I recovered from the effects of the char- soal, the day after my suffocation, I started for my lodging I found ihe house shut up, guarded by a servant of Bloodgood's the banker lad bought the place. But I had concealed the document too cun- lingly ; he has not found it. Paul. But knowing this man to be a felon, whom we may be abl it Any hour to unmask, can we allow Livingstone to many his daugh- ter 1 Enter LIVIKOHTONB. IM. Paul, I have come to bid you farewell, and to see Lucy fa he last tima Enter LUCY. Lucy. For the last time, why so [PAUL and BADGER run to astist her forward. Lir. Lucy, dear Lucy. Bad. Now take care sit down Lucy. Ah, my good kind nurse. [She $&.] You are always by my Ide. Bad. Always ready with a dose of nasty medicine, ain't I well ow I've got another dose ready do you see this noble kind heart, Lncy; it looks through two honest blue eyes into your face well tell me what you see there Lucy. Why do you ask mel [ Troubled Bad. Don't turn your eyes away the time nas come when decep tion is a crime, Lucy look in his face, and confess the infernal cbeme by which Alida Bloodgood compelled you to renounce your bra, IAV. Alida! Lucy. Has she betrayed me Bad. No ! you betrayed yourself one night in the ravings of you* fever, when I held your hands in the parozyism of your frenay, I heard th cries that came from your poor wounded heart ; shall J repeat the scene. fMcy. [Hiding her fact in her hands.] No, no. Liv. Paul, is this true 1 have I been deceived ? ID riiB rowi OK slew tofi*. Paul. You have Lucy confessed to me this iufaincut bargain, alerted from lu-r by Alida Bloodgood , and to save you fioiu.rciu shs criflced hei IOVP Ltv. Lucy i dear Lucy, look up. It was for your saku alone that I accepted this hated union to save you and yours from poverty bat. whisper one word, tell me that ruin of fortune is better than ruin if the heart. [Luct foils upon kis necle. Bod. Haii Columbia ! I know a grand party at Madison Square that will cave in to night hi ! 1 shall be there to congratulate that sweet girl. Enter DAH. W >n Dan. Mother ! mother ! where's iny hat, quick, there's a fire ia New York. [H runs into -tk+ hottse and re-enters with a telescope, looks off towards the city. Bad. Yes, and there is a fire here too, but one we don't want pul out Paul. Now Mark, I can confess to you that documents exist proofs of felony against Bloodgood, which may at any moment consign him to the State Prison and transfer to our family his illgotten wealth IAV, Proofs of felony ? Dan. The fire is in Chatham street. Paul. Twenty years ago he robbed my father of 100,000 dollars. Bad. And 1 was his accomplice in the act; we shared the plunder between us Dan. No it isn't in Chatham street I see it plainly it ia in Cro*i street, Five Points. Bad. [Starting.] Cross street where, where [Runs up. ]jiv. But if these proofs these documents exist, where are they 1 Dan. It is the tenement house two doors from the corner. Had. Damnation ! it is our old lodging ! you ask where are then* proofs, these documents 1 they are yonder, in that burning house tired by Bloodgood to destroy the papers he could not find corse* on him ' Enter MBS. PFVKY. with DAK'B hat. Mrs. P. Here's your hat, Dan. Bad. Quick ! Dan, niy son for our lives ! Ban ! th* fortune* <*t \oay and Paul and the old woman are all in that burning house. [DAS begins to thrust tns trousers into iw bcct$ Enter Mas. FAIRWRATHKR and PUFFY. to 8iv* it or perish in the dames Count me in r*M tf-i A TBTB POOH OK J>JNE 11. Stage dark. The exterior of the tenement kd ' Fi-er '" "Fi-erf" it is taken vp by other voices more distant The tocsin sounds other churches take up the alarm bells of Engines are heard. Enter a crowd of persons. Enter BADGER, with out toat or hat he tries the door -finds it fast $ seizes a bar of irot> and dashes in the ground floor window, the interior is sen ' flames. Enter DAN. Dan. [Seeing BADQKR climbing into the window.] Stop! stop! [.dADGER leaps in and disappears. Shouts from the mob; DAS leap* */ another shout, DAN leaps out again black andburned, staggert forward and sterns overcome by the heat and smoke. The shuttert of the garret full and discover BADGER in the upper flc>or. Another cry from the crowd, a loud crash is heard, BADGER disappears at if falling with the inside of the building. The shutters of the win- dotes fall away, and the inside of the house is seen, gutted by the fire; a cry of horror is uttered, by the mob. B ADGEK drags himself from the ruins, and falls across the sill oftlie lower window. DA* and two of the mob run i.> help him fontard but recoil before tht heat ; at length they succeed in rescuing his body which lies c. LIVISOSTOKK, PAUL, and PUFFT, rush on. DAN kneels owrBAi^ OKB and extinguish:* the fire which clings to parts of his clothes. 5 1_ *^* * *$ * SCENE III. The Drawing-Room in Bloodgood's Maision, tnJfnd ion Square illuminated. Music within ' Enter Bioopooon. Blood. The evidence jf my criuie is destroyed no power on wtb tin reveal the past. Enter AMDA, dressed at a, bridt. M7 dearest child, to-night you will leave this roof; but from this home ID your father's heart, none can displace you. Aiida. Oh, dear papa, do take caret of my flounces you men p*Tf one p'wut as if a dress was put on only to be rumpled. Blood. The r*oms below are fnl] of company. Haa ' .-UK POOR 1.1 f sew YORK. I did not inquire. The duke is there, looking foe (Mt >{ misery, while all my female friouls pretend to congra, ulate me bat 1 know they are dying with envy and spite. Blood. And do these feelings constitute the happiest day of jov life 1 Alida, have you no heart 1 Alida. Yes, father, I have a heart but it is like yours. It i* *t Iron safe in which are kept the secrets of the past. Enter EDWARDS. Kdw. The clergyman is robed, sir, and ready to perform the c*r *ouy. B'0'3^ Let the bridesmaids attend Miss Bloodgood. The curtains are raised, and the BRIDESMAIDS enter. BLOODO goes up and dff, and immediately returns with the bridal party. Welcome, my kind friends. [ALIDA speaks aside with the duke.] Youi presence fills me with pride and joy but where is the bridegroom 1 oas no one seen my son-in-law 1 Edw. [Announcing.] Mr. Mark Livingstone. Enter LIVINGSTOSH. Blood. Ah! at last. What n strange costume for a bridegroom . Alida, [Turnt, add views LIVINGSTONE.] Had I not good reason* iO be assured of your sincerity, Mr. Livingstone, your appearaucti *ould lead me to believe tuat you looked upou this marriage aa a jest, >r a masquerade. Liv. As you say, Miss Bloodgood, it is a masquerade but it is on where more than one mask must fall. Blood. [Aside.] What does he mean 1 Alida. You speak in a tone of menace. May Blood. Perhaps 1 had better see Mr. Livingstone alone he may b under some misapprehension. Liv. I am under none, sir although I believe you may be ; and what I have to say and do, demands no concealment. I come here to decline the hand of your daughter. [Movement amongst the crowd. Blood. You must explain this public insult. Liv. I am here to do so, but 1 do not owe this explanation to you ; 1 owe it to myself, a:"i those friends I see here, whose presence ondei your roof is a tribute to the name I bear. My'friends, I found myself Ln this man's debt ; he held in pledge all I possessed all but my name; that name be waited to shelter the infamy iu which his owa was covered , I was vile enough to sell it. Blood. Go on, sir ; go on. Lit With your leave, I will. Alida. These matters yoc were fully acquainted with, I presume, when you sought my hand. Liv. But I was aot acquainted with the conterts of these iertcr* written by you, to th Duke of C'alcavella. Blood. Dare you msi-uate that they contain evidence nwovttor* V .he hoodi of my child t THK fUOR or .NEW VuHK. M 1^9 No, sir ; but I think Miss Bloodgood will agree *Hh me, that the sentiments expressed in these letters entitle her to the hand of the duke rather than to uiiue. [He hands the letter* to ALIDA. Alida. Let him go, father. Lw. Not yet. You forget that my friends here are assembled tc witness a marriage, and all we require is a bride. Blood. Yes ; a bride who can pay your debts. Enter PAUL, LUCY, and MRS. FAIHWBATHMK. Paul. No, sir ; a bride who can place the hand of a pure and *f tag maiden i.i that of a good and honest man. Blood. How dare you intrude in this house 1 Paul. Because it is mine; because your whole fortune iH scarcely wnre to pay the debt you owe the widow and the children of Adaa Pairweather ! Blood. Is my house to 1 invaded by bege genuine 7 Blood. I do. Paul. [Tea ft it.} I have no charge against you. Let him he re- leased. Restore to me my fortune, and take the rest ; go, follow your child ; save her from rnin. and live a better life. Blood. I cannot answer y.ni -t. , would. [Turns aside in teart. smd yoes out with POLICKUBS and MADGBR, who releases BLOOPOOOD. Z/te. That was nobly done, 1'aul. Now, my friends, since all it prepared for my marriage let the ceremony proceed. Mrs F. B-:t where is Mrs. Puffy. Bad. Here they are, outside, but they won't come ji. Paui. Why noli Bad. They are afraid of walking on the carpet*. L\v. Bring them iu. Bad. That's soon done. [Jfett. Mrs. F. Poor, good, kind people the first to share our /orrow, the last to claim a part in our joy. Enter BADGER and DAN PUFFY and one POLICEMAN MRS. PUFFT and the other POLICEMAN. Bad. They wouldn't come I was obliged to take 'em in custody Dan. Oh ! mother, where's thi* 1 Mrt. P. I'm walkin' on a feather bed. Pv.fy. He wouldn't let me wipe iny shoes. Liv. Come in these carpets have never beec trodden by mor honest feet, these mirrors have never reflected kinder faces CODM In breathe the a'.r here you will purify ik Mrs. P. Oh, Dan, what grand folks ain't they * Dan. Canvass backs pvery one on 'em. Liv. And now, Lucy, I claim your hand, [ifvtit iiuidt.] All toady for the w-;niony. Bad. You have seen the dark side of Kfe you can appreciate yoof foitnne, for you have learned the value of wealth. Mrt. F. No, we have learned the value of poverty f Gwtt kr~ to POFFT.] It opens the heart. fnvl. | 'fo tht pvMtt.] Is this trnel Have tho suSerlnsr* wa n*r* tftpioted iu this mimic scene, touched your hearts, and o*os*d war of sympathy to fill ytnr eyes 1 If so, extend > us your hfcnd* J(r*.. F. No, not to u. but whon yon leave this place, ns yon r* tarn to year homes, should you see some poor crealnrM, extond yf^* bands to them, and the Wessings tliat will follow yon OR " wstf ^ ki tl mot erat>ful tribute you can pa" to the Pf.-Ott OP NSW HOOK, LINE AND SINKER! Farce. 3 acts. By Edith Loring. 4 males, 6 females. Interior. Modern costumes. What a real treat it is to relax and thoroughly enjoy yourself for an entire evening. Briefly, the plot concerns one Harvey Hook, a young chap who is running an inn at a summer resort. Pretty and vivacious Angel Benedict registers at the inn and spreads the story that she is engaged to Harvey. What she doesn't know is that since she last saw him Harvey has met and proposed to lovely and charming Cherry Raynard. When Angel tells Harvey that she is ready to resume her engage- ment to him he tells her that he is going to marry Cherry Raynard. Angel is furious and decides to be revenged on Harvey so that when Cherry and her very suspicious Aunt Amelia appear at the inn, Angel gives Aunt Amelia plenty of information about Harvey and all of it is bad. Further com- plications ensue when the boy whom Cherry was recently en- gaged to comes to the inn unexpectedly. The scene in the last act where Harvey is seized upon by three angry females who decide to give him first-aid treatment is funnier than any- thing you've seen in a long time. For sheer good natured fun and hilarity Hook, Line and Sinker is the perfect mixture. (Budget Play.) Price, 60 cents. JUST LIKE CINDERELLA Comedy for Junior High Schools. 3 acts. By Charles George. 4 males, 6 females, extras. Interior. Modern costumes. Charles George hit upon the idea of taking the ever-popular and never-dying Cinderella story and bringing it up-to-date in a streamlined version, written in the vernacular of the day. Lucinda Carleton (Cindy) is the daughter of Henry Carleton by his first marriage. Henry makes the mistake of marrying the Widow Maggie Mahoney who has two unattractive daugh- ters, Katie and Lizzie, whom she wants to promote socially with Henry's money. When Dudley Farnsworth, the rich boy who lives in the big house on the hill, gives a masquerade dance, the new Mrs. Carleton is all agog to promote Katie and Lizzie and Cindy is not included. But the old cook in the Carleton household has other plans and it is she who decides to provide ways and means for Cindy to attend the dance. Of course, Cindy goes to the ball, leaves her slipper, and wins the heart and hand of the rich young Dudley (Prince Charming). Not only that, but Cindy finally subdues her shrewish and dicta- torial stepmother and restores her father's peace-of-mind. (Budget Play.) Price, 60 cents. EVEN STEPHEN Comedy. 3 acts. By Franklin A. Warren. 4 males, 3 females. Interior. Modern costumes. "Even Stephen" is a rollicking comedy that has the Van Damms in "Who's Who" wondering What's What. Aunt Henrietta is determined to keep dear Stephen free of the sor- did past of his wealthy family and surrounds him with stifling kindness. When she is called away unexpectedly, Stephen is left in the care of Helen Smith, a secretary who hides her beauty under severe clothes. Uncle William decides to make a man of Stephen. He hires the services of Mitzi Potter, an un- employed show girl. Mitzi posing as a Russian Countess stirs Stephen to poetic palpitations. Helen Smith decides to fight Mitzi and blossoms out in a vision of loveliness. Stephen be- wildered meets Mike, a burglar, who promises to make a man of him in "Toisey" in "tree" months. When Stephen arrives home from this sojourn he is a new Stephen. He plays the part of twin brothers, Stephen the mollycoddle, and Stanley the blacksheep, to get rid of Mit/a and win Helen. (Budget Play.) Price, 60 cents. KING FOR A DAY Comedy. 3 acts. By Thomas Sutton. 5 males, 6 females. Interior. Modern costumes. Here's a new farce by one of our most popular writers. It all begins when Maureen Manners, of the Daily Peep, receives a mysterious phone call from a man who calls himself "Mr. Smith," promising her a sensational scoop. Maureen goes to his house, accompanied by Bill Potter, a photographer. Maureen and Bill get to the house, and "Mr. Smith" turns out to be Solvanis, Premier of Moronia, in this country search- ing for the "Lost Prince of Moronia." To Bill's great amaze- ment, he is hailed as the long-lost heir to the throne. All in a few hours, the shy and modest Bill Potter finds him- self the center of an international intrigue. To add to the complications, Bill's fiancee arrives on the scene, accom- panied by her mother, who sees this as an opportunity to make her daughter a Queen even though the Prince of Moronia has been betrothed to the Princess of Dementia from birth. All these threads are skillfully woven into a tapestry of laughs that pile upon each other with bewildering rapidity topped by a surprise finish that is really a mirtJi- quake of hilarity. (Budget Play.) Price, 60 cents. University of California SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 405 Hilgard Avenue, Los Angeles, CA 90024-1388 Return this material to the library from which it was borrowed. APF 1 9 1993 iuvj auviccu, luu, tmi wucii nugu attempts to demonstrate an invention to one of the most important men in Washington, he causes an explosion and the garage burns to the ground! Suspecting sabotage, the G-men rush to the scene and Hugo has to go into biding. Miss Fernway keeps the fun at the boiling point until the final curtain. (Budget Play.) Price, 60 cents. nrif LIBRARY. COS XNGOB UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY A 001 259405 THE LITTLE RED SCHOOLHOUSE Comedy, i act. By Millard Crosby. 6 males, 9 fe- males. Interior. Modern costumes. 30 minutes. Nobody could possibly sit before this rough-house in a school room without giving vent to screams of laughter! Every time Butch Callahan, the tough boy, starts to pick on the sweetest boy in the class, the audience howls. Then there is the stuck-up daughter of the head of the School Board; the teacher's pet; Tessie Talent who simpers and "Him" with all the boys; Flash Graham, who sleeps through most of the proceedings; the poor teacher who is almost driven out of her wits to mention only a few of the characters. Wisecracks are hurled across the classroom as often as blackboard erasers. (Budget Play.) Price, 35 cents. LEMON PIE FOR ANDY Comedy, i act. By Kinnier St. Clair. 3 males, 3 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 30 minutes. An amusing one-act comedy concerning the efforts of Bets Barton and her family to make her boy-friend Andy propose. She has even baked a lemon pie to show him what a good cook she is. Unknown to them Andy arrives ready to "pop the question." Everything the family does makes matters worse. Lizzie, the part-time maid; Bud, Bets' kid brother; the pompous, hen-pecked Mr. Barton; his talkative wife each puts his foot in it in an unexpected way. (Budget Play.) Price, 35 cents. CROWN UP Comedy, i act. By Beth Fiske. i male, 4 females. (Male part can be played by girl.) Interior. Modern costumes. 30 minutes. Jane is excited about her first "long dress" party until her friend Barbara discloses that this is to be a party with "dates." Jane begs her mother that she be allowed to stay away from the party. Mrs. Mills is mystified when, having left the room momentarily, she returns to find her daughter again keenly anticipating the coming event. The secret is, of course, that Fred, a classmate, has made a brief call, has given an abrupt invitation and an enthusiastic kiss. Light dawns for Mrs. Mills as her daughter whirls excitedly about the room. (Budget Play.) Price, 35 cents. MERRY MOLLY MALONE Comedy, i art. By Brian McCarthy. 3 males, 4 females. Interior. Modern costumes. 35 minutes. Vivacious Molly Malonc, Irish lass new to this country, falls in love with wealthy and aristocratic Noel Barrington. Mr. Harrington sends a lawyer to offer Molly five thousand dollars to return to Ireland. Instilled and angered, Molly goes directly to the Barrington home where she is mistaken for the new maid, encounters Noel's snobbish sister, meets ludicrous and amusing misadventures, and unpredictably proves her real worth to the Harringtons. (Budget Play.) Price, 35 rents. GETTING PINNED Comedy, j act. By Grace Barney. 3 males, 5 fe- males. Interior. Modern rosMmes. 35 minutes. The mix-ups are orjic and various when Janice refuses to accept Luther's fratei viiy pin because she expats a visit from an old admire/, Lutluv turns to another co-ed, Veina, who soon shows up wearing a p'u. Wh.' could have put it there hut Luther? Then Janice's olc boyfriend appeals ;,-nd things really begin to h.'.ppec. A brighi and cheerful college comedy which is sure to f'otifi t jV c. (Budget 1'lay. Pn< :. y, -ems. H;LI.6ILLY SUE Con;edy. i aa. By N'<-'d Albert. 3 males, 5 females. Interior. Mod'-ni cosi.mies. 35 minutes. Before the att>u/ of tlir j }-,- . starts Sue Slade, "Hillbilly Sue," ha? l