the queerest fellows I ever met with! It is not often, I suspect, that station and fortune go begging in this manner.

Hor.

money.

Don't mistake me, sir; I have no objection to the

Sq. Haven't you, really?

Hor. O, no; none in life! In point of fact, I rather like it; and I'll tell you why. I have rather "outrun the constable" lately.

Sq. (Astonished.) You have done what, sir?

Sq. (To GEORGE.) What on earth has this boy had a constable after him for?

Geo. (Smiling.) O, sir, don't be alarmed! Outrunning the constable is only a fashionable phrase for spending more than one's income.

Sq. And the offence, I fear, is as fashionable as the phrase.(To HORACE.) Then, pray, sir, why don't you jump at such a chance as this?

Hor. Because I haven't the least idea how to be a Squire. Sq. Come, that's honest, at all events! Are you willing to learn?

Hor. Is it much trouble?

Sq. Less than to be a noodle!—at least I should think so. Hor. Then I'll try.

Sq. So you shall. Give me your hand! And give me yours, George. Now! mind this brother of yours engages to become my pupil; if I succeed in humanizing him, he will be my heir; if not, you must! No answer; for, by Jupiter, one of you shall!

Geo. Horace will be the man, sir, no doubt. He is younger than I am, and his habits are less settled.

Sq. Much less, seemingly !—(Aside.) How shall I begin with him?(To HORACE.) Can you ride?

Hor. I flatter myself that's about the best thing I do!

Sq. Then you really are not afraid of a horse?

Hor. I'm afraid of nothing!

Sq. (Aside.) How one may be deceived by appearances!— (Aloud.) Can you drive?

Hor. Gig, curricle, tandem, unicorn, or four. I have driven the coach from London to Brighton about two hundred times. Sq. I'm glad you can drive; but I beg to inform you that whoever becomes my heir will be able to make a decent livelihood without turning stage coachman!

Geo. It is n't for that, sir-it's the fashion.

Sq. (To GEORGE.) O-(To HORACE.) Pray, sir, is it the fashion for gentlemen to turn servants of all denominations? Because, although our roads here are well supplied with coachmen at present, I have a vacancy for a footman, if that would suit you!

Hor. That would be degrading.

Sq. O! I beg your pardon. I didn't perceive the distinction. Can you shoot?

Hor. I can kill eleven birds out of twelve, at thirty yards; for further particulars inquire at the Red House, Battersea. Sq. Is that true?

Hor. I never tell a lie; it's ungentlemanly.

Sq. (Aside.) He's a strange animal; but there is good about the fellow!-(Aloud.) Now, sir, one thing more, and I have done with you for the present. You are short of cash, I understand.

Hor. Excruciatingly!

Sq. I want to make a purchase of you. If I give you fifty pounds, may I take my choice of any article you have got about you?

Hor. Most willingly!

Sq. Enough! (Taking out pocket book.) George! I lodge the money with you; when the goods are delivered, pay the

vender.

Geo. But what is the purchase, sir?

Hor. Ay, what is the purchase?

Sq. The growing crop of hair upon your face; with liberty to mow, whenever I please. (GEORGE laughs-HORACE looks astonished.)

Hor. My whiskers and mustaches!

Sq.

room.

Even so! Come, a bargain is a bargain; away to your Shave them off clean! And don't let me see your face again, until, until-in short-I can see it. (Goes up to table and rings bell; HORACE is going.)

Geo. Horace !

Hor. (Turning.) What?

Geo. (Laughs and imitates shaving.) I say—
Hor. Now be quiet.! (Going.)

Hor. (Peevishly, turning again.) Well! What do you want?

Geo. Look here, old man! (Holding up note.)

Hor. Well-to be sure-a fifty is two ponies; and the hair will grow again!

(Exit.)

SOLD OUT AND BOUGHT IN.

From the "Old Still-House," by Mrs. F. D. GAGE. Arranged by J. R.

SYPHER.

Characters.-Mrs. MAGOON; RICHARD MAGOON; ELSIE, and Mr. DELNO.

Mrs. MAGOON and ELSIE.

Let us drop it

Mrs. Magoon. It's no use to weep over it, my child; it must be done, and perhaps it's for the best. now, and think of something more cheerful.

you and father

Elsie. I cannot, mother. This old home that have toiled upon so long, to be put under the sheriff's hammer -and for such a debt!

Mrs. M. If it cannot be helped, my dear, is it not better wisdom to submit? A thing that can be helped should never be patiently borne, although it cost trial and struggle, and even antagonism; but I see no help for this. Mr. Porter has waited a great many years: it is now twenty-five since your father borrowed that money.

Elsie. But, mother, that money was, by every principle of

justice, yours. The law is a barbarism-it is monstrous to give a man all the property of his wife, all her labor, all her mind, all her soul.

Mrs. M. Women, then, must be careful how they marry.

Elsie. Careful how they marry! Rather not marry at all. How can any woman know who or what she is marrying? Could any foresight or any care have told you that our once noble father would have ever been what he is now? Oh! with what pride and love I remember him as I used to fly to him, ten years ago-when he wound his arms round me, and lifted me up for a kiss-great girl as I was. He was so noble, so good, so sensible, so loving. And see what he is now-

Mrs. M. Elsie, my child, he is your father still.

Elsie. I know it, mother; but my heart must pour out its fulness now, this once, if never more. Next week our home is to be sold; and you, what will become of you and all of us? You have toiled here for twenty-five years, and were the butter and cheese, the woollen and linen you have made, piled up before you, they would pay for the farm. You have educated all of us; you have washed and cooked, carded and spun; you have dried fruit, made the garden, and become the marketwoman-anything, everything, that we might be clothed, and have books, and be brought up respectably; you have never made a bad bargain; have never been drunk; never neglected a duty-all that human hands, human ingenuity, and human patience were permitted to do, under the law, you have done. And now what have you to show for it? Without a word or explanation, this terrible effect comes upon you from causes which you have struggled, day and night, to avert! I ask again, what have you to show for all your labor and self-sacrifice? -what individual right do you possess?

Mrs. M. I have my children, Elsie, and I hope and trust that I have built a home and stored up wealth in their hearts, that the sheriff will not be able to put an attachment upon. If I am bankrupt there, my child, I shall be poor indeed. I know the law is unjust; I know women hold, under it, an inferior and degraded position. Could I be permitted to keep the farm and

manage it myself, I have no doubt that I could in a few years pay all the debts. I love the old place-every shrub, plant, and tree is part of myself-it is interwoven with my life, with all that is dear, and all that is sad and sorrowful, too. I do not love to see it go; but it must.

Elsie. It must not, and it shall not, mother; there must be some way-I will move heaven and earth, but I will save it for you.

Mrs. M. Elsie, are you strong-able to endure patiently-to take up a cross and walk under it for years, for the sake of a great good? For the sake of redeeming your father, would you be willing to toil as I have done?—if you could, put out the fire under that boiler, and still the shriek of that engine in the stillhouse, which has, since your childhood, haunted me like the cry of spirits damned!

Elsie. Yes, mother, I am ready to toil and endure; to sacrifice ease, self-enjoyment, everything but virtue and truth, if I could but accomplish what you suggest, to save my father. Oh! mother, if I could do that we should all be saved. And, mother, I have a plan of my own to save our home. I will tell you what it is, and then you can tell me yours. You saw the stranger who was here last night.

Mrs. M. Mr. Delno?

Elsie. Yes. Well, Ellen told me that it was our old neighbor, Mike Dugan, who was sent to prison for the murder of poor Harry Falconer, as he was going home from the Still-house mad with drink. He has reformed and has become very rich; and he has repeated to Ellen how much you did for him when he was in trouble, and says he is indebted to you for what he is. He is so rich and so noble, I thought I would go to him and tell him all our troubles. I am of age now, you know, and if a wife cannot own property, a woman can; and I can be a woman and no wife a long time if I choose. I am almost sure he will loan me the money, and buy the place for me, and then we can see what we can do. I will give up my school, come home and live with you, aid you, and do all I can; and I fancy I can do more than you think.