past; live for the present, the bright, buoyant present. G Miss Barker! (He seizes her hand and presses it.)

MISS B. (frigidly, withdrawing her hand.) Doctor!

DR. P. Forgive me. Old times, you know, the tones of your voice-I, too, was dreaming of the past. Alas! (He sighs deeply, Miss B. wipes her eyes.) You weep. I can endure this no longer-O Miss Barker-Adeline-Addie

MISS B. Doctor, you are forgetting yourself.

DR. P. Yes, I am forgetting myself. I am forgetting everything-that unhappy occurrence, our blighted lives, and only see you before me now, glorious in an effulgence of womanly beauty which no earthly influence can destroy. (Drops stiffly on his knees.) Star of my soul! be mine.

MISS B. (aside.) Am I dreaming? (Aloud.) You are joking. Base man! You trifle with a wounded heart.

DR. P. I swear to Heaven I am in earnest, I love you passionately, madly.

MISS B. How can I resist? Yes, Henry, I am thine, entirely thine (assisting him to rise and leaning upon him).

DR. P. In this supreme moment I am recompensed for years of separation.

Miss B. And I. But ah, Henry! how I have suffered. The consciousness that I deceived you has ever haunted me Hike a.ghost. I must remind you that I still wear a wig, although of a different shade.

DR. P. It is well to be candid. Some years ago, while out West, I fell among hostile Indians, from whose hands I emerged slightly scalped. Ever since I have been obliged to wear a toupée.

MISS B. Really! What a comfort to learn that we now can fully sympathize with each other. (Aside.) I will tell him all. (To Doctor.) But, Henry, what will you think when I tell you that I have lost every one of my teeth, and it was only last week that I had a new set, both uppers and lowers.

DR. P. Don't mention it. I haven't had a tooth of my own these ten years. (Aside.) Shall I inform her? Yes, I must conceal nothing. (Aloud.) Ahem! I might add that I wear a cork leg.

MISS B. I am not quite that unfortunate. (Considers a mo ment.) Henry, I don't suppose you wear a respirator? DR. P. A what?

MISS B. A respirator for the nose and mouth.

DR. P. No, love. I don't use such an article.

MISS B. Well, I do whenever I go out in the cold airso suppose we call it quits.

DR. P. Yes, dove, we will call it quits.

She lays her head on his shoulder. A violent blow is heard on the closet door; then a noise of scraping and shuffling; at last the door is burst violently open, and Horace comes out with his face and hands scratched. Elsie jumps up and darts across the room shrieking" Rosalind, Rosalind," and disappears. Miss Barker yells "Thie es! Murder! Fire!" Dr. Fauncefort picks up tongs and stands on the defensive.

HORACE. Great Cæsar! I couldn't stand it a moment longer. I would have been murdered. It must have been the fiend incarnate. (Sees Miss Barker and Dr. Pauncefort, and lowers his head, overwhelmed with confusion.)

MISS B. Mr. Duckworth, what is the meaning of this insolent intrusion?

GUSSIE (coming forward). Oh, auntie, it was all my fault! Horace came to bid me good-bye; I heard you coming and was afraid you would be angry, so I shut him up in the closet. MISS B. (severely.) Gussie! I am amazed,-grieved.

Enter Elsie, followed by Robert who holds the cat in his arms.* ELSIE. Oh, auntie, forgive me! Indeed, it was all my fault I intended this kitten for Robert's birthday present. I disovered you didn't like cats, and I was afraid if you came Across it you might order it killed; so I hid it in there. It was fast in a box, but Horace must have kicked the lid off.

MISS B. Elsie, this from you! Oh! it is too much.

DR. P. (who has been staring at Horace.) Yes, yes, I am not mistaken. It is he,-the preserver of my life. (Salutes him.) ALL (in amazement). Horace Duckworth!

DR. P. Happy am I to learn his name. Yes, he is the hero, who, this morning, at the risk of his life, threw himself before my runaway steed, and stopped its flight, thus rescuing me from a terrible death. Mr. Duckworth, in the presence of this company, once more permit me to thank you for the inestimable service you have rendered. So,

*It is not necessary to bring the cat on the stage until this point. Some one car imitate the "miaow" when occasion requires. If a cat cannot be procured, a muff or piece of fur, can be substituted, but not exposed directly to the audience

Addie, my dear, this is your favored applicant for the posi tion of nephew?

MISS B. No, there is some mistake. Pardon me; I omit. ted to introduce you. Dr. Pauncefort, my nieces, Elsie and Gussie; and Doctor, this is Mr. Robert Duckworth, who is to marry my niece, Elsie.

DR. P. I am pleased to meet you. And this gentleman (alluding to Horace)?

HORACE (bitterly). I am the black-sheep, the scallawag, the party to get rid of, you see.

GUSSIE (going up to Doctor). Don't believe him. He's nothing of the sort; he's only in disfavor. Please speak a good word for him to auntie.

DR. P. Is he a friend of yours?

GUSSIE (earnestly). Oh, yes, sir. That is-(Lowers her eyes.) DR. P. Ah! I understand. (To Miss Barker.) My dear, I infer that Mr. Horace here and Miss Gussie are very fond of each other. Probably he has sought your approval of the intimacy. Am I not correct in my surmises?

MISS B. Yes, Doctor, you are correct.

DR. P. And you have discouraged his suit?

MISS B. I have said, No.

DR. P. Really, that is too bad. Are you sure he deserved such treatment? Were you not too hasty, perhaps?

MISS B. Oh, Doctor, they are both so young. Besides, there are other reasons

DR. P. I see. Well, I do not wish to interfere in your private affairs, but I feel impelled to ask you to reconsider your decision. I have a proposition to make:-Horace has already refused any reward for his bravery, but my offer is still open. Let him say the word, and I will not only set him up in any business, or fit him for any profession he may choose, but will stand sponsor for his good behavior. What do you say to such a nephew as that? Speak, I pray you, and make these young people happy. Is it no, or yes? They all lean forward eagerly for the answer. Miss Barker com. presses her lips. Robert squeezes the cat's tail, and there is heard a prolonged mi-a-a-ow. Dr. Pauncefort takes Miss Barker's hand; their eyes meet; she nods approvingly and stammers, Yes. Horace embraces Gussie. Grand hand-shaking all aroun

GUSSIE (to Horace). You'll send a message to that horrid what's-his-name, wont you ?-to tell him you can't come. HORACE. I'll telegraph to-night.

ELSIE (to Robert). I'm so glad you like her.

ROBERT. You couldn't have given me anything which would please me more.

MISS B. My dear nieces:-you will doubtless be surprised when I inform you that we may have a triple wedding here soon, and that you must learn to call Dr. Pauncefort, "Uncle." ELSIE (exchanging glances with Gussie). Why, this is a great surprise. It will be delightful, wont it Gus?

GUSSIE. Yes, indeed.

DR. P. How strange are the ways of Providence! If the cat had not been concealed in the cupboard I would not have been moved to speak as I did; Horace would not have presented himself, and the happiness of four souls would have been deferred. By a cat, my dear, our happiness was marred; by a cat it has been restored to us threefold.

GUSSIE (beckoning with finger). Poor pussy wants a corner? MISS B. (placing her hand on the cat's neck.) No, no. Henceforth she shall have the right to every room in the house. Already she has a warm corner in my heart.

"The Wedding March," or other appropriate instrumental or vocal music can be given as curtain falls.

OULD DOCTHER MACK.

Ye may tramp the world over
From Delhi to Dover,

And sail the salt say from Archangel to Arragon;

Circumvint back

Through the whole Zodiack,

But to ould Docther Mack ye can't furnish a paragon.

Have ye the dropsy,

The gout, the autopsy?

Fresh livers and limbs instantaneous he'll shape yez;
No ways infarior

In skill, but suparior,

And lineal postarior of Ould Aysculapious.

He and his wig wid the curls so carroty,
Aigle eye and complexion clarety :
Here's to his health,

Honor and wealth,

The king of his kind and the crame of all charity!

How the rich and the poor,

To consult for a cure,

Crowd on to his doore in their carts and their carriages, Showin' their tongues

Or unlacin' their lungs,

For niver one symptom the docther disparages;
Troth, and he'll tumble,

For high or for humble,

From his warm feather-bed wid no cross contrariety; Makin' as light

Of nursin' all night

The beggar in rags as the belle of society.

And as if by meracle,
Ailments hysterical,

Dad, wid one dose of bread-pills he can smother;
And quench the love-sickness

Wid wonderful quickness,

By prescribin' the right boys and girls to aich other. And the sufferin' childer

Your eyes 'twould bewilder

To see the wee craythurs his coat-tails unravelin'.
And aich of them fast

On some treasure at last,

Well knowin' ould Mack's just a toy-shop out travelin'.

Then, his doctherin' done,

In a rollickin' run

Wid the rod or the gun, he's the foremost to figure.
By Jupiter Ammon,

What jack-snipe or salmon

E'er rose to backgammon his tail-fly or trigger!
And hark! the view-hollo!
"Tis Mack in full follow

On black Faugh-a-ballagh the country-side sailin'.
Och, but you'd think

'Twas ould Nimrod in pink,

Wid his spurs cryin' chink over park-wall and palin'. He and his wig, wid the curls so carroty,

Aigle eye and complexion clarety;