BILL. Well, lass, yes, he knowed it,-he thunk he knowed it. But-now comes the all-firedest part o' this here yarn. Now-now don't ye cry out, an' don't ye flop down, butBill Jepson he won't never come home no more, never!

POLLY (smilingly regarding him). Why will he never come home, sailor?

BILL. Because-because he's drownded dead!-because he's went to Davy Jones' locker!

POLLY (quietly). I don't believe it, sailor.

BILL. I was wi' him all the time; I orter know.

POLLY. Why weren't you drowned, too? If you thought as much of him as you say, why didn't you drown trying to save him, if for no other cause?

BILL. I-I-well, I was washed ashore. But poor Bill,

he-Bill he's went.

POLLY (folding up the frock). Oh, dear! if that's the case, I might as well make up my mind to be a widow.

BILL. But why don't ye get flustrated, Widder Jepson? POLLY. I'll get that way after awhile.

BILL. But I tell ye Bill Jepson ain't no more,—him that was your husband.

POLLY.

I I can't help that, can I? I didn't drown him, did I? I'm a widow, am I not? Now I'll tell you what I think about it (rising). You see, sailor, I can't live here all alone, now can I?

Widder Jepson?

BILL. What do ye mean, POLLY. That's right-that's right; I'm Widow Jepson. But I don't mean to be Widow Jepson all my life; I'm going to be a wife.

BILL (rising). A wife! Woman, your husband he ain't hardly cold yet!

POLLY. Then the sea must be a pretty warm place.

BILL. Do ye mean to say ye don't love Bill?

POLLY. It would be mournful to love a dead husband and

yet be a wife to a live one, sailor.

BILL. Who-who'd have ye for a wife when they knows all I knows? Widder, I'll tell the whole town-I'll tell the

whole world-I'll put it in the "Log!"

POLLY.

Bosh, sailor! what nonsense!

BILL. Who'll have ye for a wife, ye

POLLY. Why you will, sailor, I know you will.

BILL. Me! Git out o' my way, Bill Jepson's wife, git out 'my way! Me have ye! I was sure I'd find ye crazy mad at the idee o' Bill a-rollin' around wi' sharks an' sich in the sea; while now to hear ye-O woman, woman, ye don't know what ye've done! I'll go back to my ship (going toward door); I'll hate all women for sake o' ye; I'll never tell who I am

POLLY. Sailor, you shall have me! I mean to be your wife! BILL. Let me git to my ship!

POLLY (running before him and putting her arm across the aoor). I'll lock the door. You shall not leave this house till you say you'll have me for your lawful wedded wife. BILL. Let me out! I'll never say sich words. Woma ye're a awful critter, that's what ye are! Ye've said ye loved your husband so ye'd git me to marry ye; ye've saw so many sailors ye think we're all green alike. I don't believe ye ever thunk o' your Bill (struggling to get past her); I don't believe even your little Polly thunk o' her poor deceived daddy

POLLY (keeping him from the door). Not of her deceived daddy. sailor, but her daddy who must always believe me as loving him tender and true,―her daddy I saw this blessed night! BILL (pausing in his efforts to get out). Who-who-het daddy!-this night!

POLLY (throwing her arms about him and removing his disguise). Here! here! here is little Polly's daddy,—my Bill, my dear old boy! (Cries aloud.) Polly! little Polly! wake up! wake up! Come to mammy! for daddy's come homedaddy's come home from the cruel, cruel sea, and he's tried to make mammy believe he was somebody else, and that little Polly's daddy was drowned in the storm. Oh, Bill, 1 knew you when I opened the door and let you in-I never could mistake you, never, never! Little Polly! Little Polly! (Little Polly runs from the settee crying, "Daddy! daddy!")

BILL (folding the two in his arms). Three cheers and a tiger for Bill Jepson's wife, and may the Lord be good to little Polly! [Curtain falls.

AN ELECTRIC EPISODE.*-HELEN BOOTH.

CHARACTERS.

MR. NATHANIEL FIZZIGIG.

MISS DEBORAH MAYFLOWER.
NELLIE MAYFLOWER.

RICHARD OMONROI.

SCENE.-Parlor at Miss Mayflower's. A galvanic battery on table. Richard Omonroi putting books in valise.

RICHARD. So it all ends. I came here with the hope of gaining a wife; I leave, minus the wife and the hope. When I came I possessed Nellie's love. I I have that still,an interesting fortune whose rate of interest is not to be calculated by numerals. (Shaking fist at battery.) O you electric miscreant, upon whose futility I have been wrecked! In your hidden force I expected to find all things. A poor man shall never aspire to Nellie's hand, her guardian, Fizzigig, told me. And there is wealth in electricity, is there? I'll smash your pretensions, you lightning calculator! (Beating battery.) You hoarder of latent principles !

NELLIE. doing?

Enter Nellie Mayflower.

Richard, Richard, what in the world are you

RICHARD. Worsting the enemy. It is good-bye, Nellie. NELLIE. I know. And yet I have run all the way from Mr. Fizzigig's to beg you not to despair. You are bound to succeed yet.

RICHARD. Electrically speaking?

NELLIE. Why not? Love is an electric element.

RICHARD (running to her). O Nellie!

NELLIE. And-and I've come to-to say that

RICHARD. Yes, yes; to say what?

NELLIE. That I understand you are not going away alone.

RICHARD. Oh, yes, I am

NELLIE. I am positive that some one goes with you.
RICHARD. Yes, my inveterate enemy.

NELLIE. You refer to the galvanic battery whose motor of action you have invented. But there is some one else going with you.

* Copyright, 1886, by P. GARRETT & Co.

NELLIE. Oh, don't be stupid, I-I am the lady.

RICHARD. What! you would

NELLIE. Elope with you and the inveterate enemy.
RICHARD. Nellie!

NELLIE. There! there! we've little time for bliss. Let me help you to pack. The train leaves in thirty minutes. Mr. Fizzigig has gone to a meeting of agriculturists and will not return for an hour. (Takes valise and crams in books.)

RICHARD. I am dizzy, Nellie. You are a miracle. A young woman in these days to marry a man whose sole possession is a patent on a galvanic battery!

NELLIE. With an ounce or so of brains thrown in.

RICHARD. I forgot the brains.

NELLIE. And then I believe you have a sound heart.
RICHARD. Two hearts; yours and mine.

NELLIE. Electrically speaking.

RICHARD (upsetting valise and books). Positively I must embrace you.

NELLIE (looking off, screams). Who is this coming?
RICHARD (also looking). Your Aunt Deborah.

NELLIE. Then there will be no elopement. We were too premature in our satisfaction; for Mr. Fizzigig has for years paid his addresses to her, and she is every day expecting an offer of marriage. Oh! (Both hide behind table.)

Enter Miss Mayflower, savagely throwing off her bonnet and shawl, and tramping up and down.

MISS M. Of all perfidious men!

Pays his addresses to

me for fifteen years, and then sends me word this morning, my birthday, that he desires particularly to see me. Naturally I expect a proposal. He only wants to know how I raise my best turnips! Oh, Nathaniel Fizzigig! if I had you here I'd turnip you! (Walks up and down.)

NELLIE. Mercy, Dick! they've had a quarrel!
RICHARD. In that case we may still

Miss M. Let me give vent to my feelings!

I wish I

could scream as loudly as I'd like to; I wish I'd learned to

sing German opera-music,-that would be more awful yet! I've a good mind to go up stairs and have a fit! Ha! ha! if I could only smash something!

RICHARD (picking up battery and running with it to her). Something to smash, dear Miss Deborah? Vent your feelings on this and be happy.

MISS M. Eh?-you here, young man? I understood when I bade you good-bye a couple of hours ago that you had brought your visit to an end. And what is this you offer me?

RICHARD. My inveterate enemy.

to smash; smash this and be happy.

You want something

MISS M. Then you've overheard my soliloquy?

RICHARD.

We have.

MISS M. We! Who are we?

RICHARD. Ah-ah-my inveterate enemy and myself.
NELLIE. Don't call me such a name as that!

MISS M. Whose voice is that? Come from behind that table, Nellie! (Nellie comes forward.) What does this mean? NELLIE (weeping). Mr. Fizzigig says that Dick sha'n't have me; and now you'll prevent our eloping.

MISS M. Who says so?

RICHARD. Yes, yes, Miss Deborah, you have been badly treated by Mr. Fizzigig; conspire with us against him and let us elope.

MISS M. If I don't you'll tell everybody what you've overheard me say, and thus make me ridiculous.

RICHARD. We couldn't make you ridiculous, Miss Deborah. MISS M. You could, young man; the Mayflowers are all ridiculous.

NELLIE.

MISS M.

Having so much spirit yourself.

Precisely. And if I don't let you do what you want to do, you'll be revenged on me, won't you?

NELLIE. I might remember what Dick and I overheard you say.

MISS M. That Nathaniel Fizzigig, after fifteen years' dilly-dallying, has not yet come to the point.

NELLIE. I wouldn't remember it if I could help it, but then Dick