attempts to reach his coat, without attracting her attention, slips noiselessly from the room, leaving his coat behind him.]

"Life is made up of illusions, and a vewy common one is the opinion we heah expwessed in evwy village and town: 'Oh, yes! if I lived in New Yawk, or Boston, or Cambwidge, or Philadelphia, there might be fit society. But there are no intewesting young men, no intellectual young women in my town.' Ah! have you yet to learn that the eye altewing altews all; that wit is a magnet to find wit, and chawactah to find chawac-" [Looks up and suddenly discovers that MR. B. is not there. Looks behind and under the chairs.]

Stwange!

[Picks up the overcoat and carefully shakes it out; then hugs it ecstatically.] Curtain.

Home of MISS SMITH.

SCENE III.

Enter MISS SMITH, arm in arm with MR. BROWN. He is minus hat, cane and overcoat. His hair is disheveled and his necktie awry.

Miss Smith-My dear Mr. Bwown, be theated I pray

you;

You are tired with thothe girlth that will never repay

you.

I'm thure I'm motht grateful you've brought me tho farHush! hush! I'm afraid Mamma'th door ith ajar.

[Runs to the door and listens.]

We've had thuch an evening! It mutht be quite late. Mr. Brown-Miss Smith, you're mistaken; 'tis early,

not ten.

Miss Smith-Your watch mutht be wrong; that'th the way with you men •

You that it too thlow.

See, mine ith eleven.

Mr. Brown-A cottage! a porch! two people! Oh,

Heaven!

Miss Smith-Yeth, dear Mr. Bwown, a heaven it might be

If the people you see there could be

you

[Detaining him as he tries to go.]

Dear Mr. Bwown, why can't it be true?

and me.

The girl might be Ithabel, the man might be you;
And if we were wedded what blith would be ours?
Mr. Brown [vehemently]—I'd kill myself first. I swear
by the powers!

[He rushes from the stage.]

Miss Smith-He'th gone, I declare! and made no concession;

I thought I, at leatht, would have made some impreththion

I'm doomed! I'm doomed! Oh, what thall I do?
An old maid to dwell, with no suitor to sue!
Mith Thmith on a tombthtone above a low mound
Will mark out the girl refuthed by Jed. Bwown!

Curtain.

SCENE IV.

MR. BROWN's lodgings. He comes staggering in, and throws himself down on a chair, with a groan.

Mr. Brown-Oh-h! I've reached home at last! I thought I should never!

But, oh! I'm glad of my life? I could stay here for ever!

Five ladies, I think, to their homes I've escorted. Perhaps I can tell when my thoughts are assorted. [Counting on his fingers.]

Five ladies in all,-I can count up no more;
But-oh!-I feel as if I'd been home with a score.
And one was domestic; and one was romantic;
And one, she was terribly stiff and pedantic;
And one was excessively frisky and antic.

Between them, among them, they've driven me frantic
With their fuss, and their gush, and their "Dear Mr.
Brown."

Oh! I long for a cool, quiet place to lie ɑown.
This rocking chair's handy; I guess I'll take it.
To think of a thing I scarcely am fit.

This room is pleasant; my landlady's Kina;
If I never need stir out I shouldn't much mind.
But I can't live in this place another day,
Though how in the dickens shall I get away?
I'll pitch my lone tent by the waters of Marah!
I'll dwell in the wilds of the sandy Sahara!

I'll join the wild tribes, where they'll all overlook me’
I'll go where the sun is so hot it will cook me!

I'll go where the lion and jackal will meet me!
I'll
go
where the people will sit down and eat me!
But never! so long as my name is called Brown,
Will I live-the only young man in the town!

Curtain.

STAGE STRUCK.

CHARACTERS.

MR. MAYWOOD, an elderly Merchant.
FREDERICK, his Son.

MRS. COWSLIP, an old Country Woman.
CORA NEVILLE, her Niece.

PROPERTIES.

A Table and some Chairs, a large Kitchen Table, a Fender, an Almanac, an Umbrella, a Cane.

SCENE I.-[STAGE.]

The parlor of a country inn. Upon the table are an old umbrella, an almanac, and some newspapers.

Enter FREDERICK MAYWOOD.

Frederick-So! one stage of our journey is accomplished! What an extraordinary old gentleman my paternal relative is! Hearing, quite accidentally, that I had imbibed a taste for theatricals, he orders me to pack up my wardrobe, and whirls me off to a country house, to cure me of the passion. Oh, genius will not be thus smothered! I will study in the woods, the fields! [Striking an attitude.]

"Nature I'll court in her sequestered haunts,

By mountain, meadow, streamlet, grove, or dell." Ah! I will, indeed! And think of having such an arena for the grand scenes! An acre of ground to study Richard in! [In a theatrical manner, with much gesture.] "A horse! a horse! my kingdom for a horse!"

Enter MR. MAYWOOD.

Mr. Maywood [sternly]—Ranting again, sir! Will you never have done with this tomfoolery?

Freder-My dear father, can you call the words of the immortel William tomfoolery?

Mr. Maywood-Immortal fiddlesticks!

Frederick-Now you speak of it, why should not fiddlesticks be immortal? Paganini's for example?

Mr. Maywood [pathetically]—Frederick, my dear boy, don't talk in that way! You really make me uneasy. [In a passion.] I'll put you in a lunatic asylum, sir, for I really believe you are crazy!

Frederick-Don't get excited, old gentleman! Now we are here for a time, with nothing to do but wait for the next coach, suppose we, in a calm, dispassionate manner, go over the subject under dispute! You object to the stage. Why?

Mr. Maywood--Why? You lazy scoundrel, do youFrederick-Ah! you are wandering from the subject. Mr. Maywood--Oh, Frederick, I have had such hopes for you, my only son! You were to be my partner in business-Maywood & Son. And now you think of nothing but the stage.

Frederick [striking an attitude]-" All the world's a stage!"

Mr. Maywood-There, now; don't go off again! I brought you from the city to get rid of this nonsensical taste, and you have done nothing but spout ever since we left home.

Frederick-Why not allow me, sir, to follow the natu ral bent of my genius? Oh, you do not appreciate the luxuries that belong to a life on the stage. Think of being able, by your own powerful expression of different passions, to control the very hearts of the multitude around you, who weep when you weep, and laugh as you give occasion! Then the end, the great end of all this! The stage is destined to be the greatest moral engine! Young minds, open to conviction—