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Mrs. S. What does the man mean by number two and number one ?

Cockle. Why, I presume you haven't quite forgot, Mrs. Smith, that there was one such a being in existence as poor Mr. Smith.

Mrs. S. Indeed, but I have forgot, Sir, and I beg you'll recollect to forget him too; I'm sure the only good he ever did his wife was when he made a widow of her.

Cockle. Well, well, poor Tom! poor Tom Gotobed Smith! Gotobed Tom, as we used to call him. I never saw him after we left school together. A promising fellow he was then

Mrs. S. Well, I'll just tell you how he kept his puomise. When he married me, he took the Golden Horn at Broadstairs—that was in the year 1800, and it's now 1820. Let me see, how long ago shall we call that?

Cockle. I should say not a great way from twenty years.

Mrs. S. Well then, twenty years ago, come Michaelmas, I went to Canterbury for a batch of Michaelmas geese ;

I found the geese at Canterbury, but when I came back, that goose, Smith, was not to be found—the bird was flownand I never set eyes on my husband again from that blessed moinent !

Cockle. The report was, warrants were out against him for smuggling

Mrs. S. So he was told on the sly by his friend Mr. Docket, Justice's Clerk at that time; and certainly, three or four casks of that dear irresistible liquor, French brandy, were found a day or two before, floating in the sea at the foot of our garden: but Smith was innocent: I'll•do him the justice to say, Smith was too great a coward for smuggling.

Cockle. Then why didn't he stand his trial ? Why bring down Outlawry with Civil Death by running away? However, it was lucky the poor devil got clear off and died safe in America some ten years ago—in fact it was very sensible of him to die there.

S. (wiping her eyes) Very Cockle. Because it saved him the mortification of being -transported here.

Mrs. S. It was, indeed, a great consolation for his in. consolable widow.

Cockle. Yes, it enabled her to marry again.

Mrs. S. Ah, such a man! I'd trust him with my last penny. By-the-by, you recollect my wish about the settlements, Mr. Cockletop.

Cockle. Perfectly; with very proper confidence in your future husband, you've taken care to settle overy farthing of your property on yourself.

Lar. "(heard singing, R. U. E.) “Of all the girls in our town"

Mrs. S. I hear him! I should know that dear, merry, good-looking voice among a thousand !

Cockle. Well, two's company, they say: so I'll just run for the papers. · Mrs. S. And be quick about it. My friends the Gimps and Bobbinses go to church with us—we can't go without you. You know you've got to give me away.

Cockle. (taking her hand with sentiment) The office is flattering to me. Mrs. Smith, I've known you long-indeed, so perfectly do I know your worth, I'll give you away with pleasure.

[Exit into house, R,

Enter LARRY, R. U. E.

Lar. (L.) I think this plan of mine can't fail-I think I can't fail to have the pleasure of saying good-bye to my bride for three or on the least favorable calculation. Larry, my darlin', you're a clever boy entirely. (sings)

“There's none like blooming Sally.” Mrs. Š.' Now to try the effect of blooming Sally's presence. (taps him on shoulder)

Lar. Mrs. Smith, why do you take away a man's breathing like that? Well, and how's yourself and all your family, Mrs. Smith ? I don't see Miss Sally.

Mrs. S. (coldly) Miss Sally, Sir ? We surely don't want that child now !

Lar. Oh, no, only she's such a child! Somehow it does one's eyes good just to look at her cheeks : so fresh-s0 red and white-such a picture

Mrs. S. (loudly). Sir!

Lar. (aside) Murder! (aloud) Yes—I repeat-such a picture—of her mother.

Mrs. S. (smiling) The girl is certainly handsome, and the likeness has been remarked beforo.

Lar. (L.) Remarked before, has it? Yes, before and behind too.

Mrs. S. (R. tapping him on the cheek) How dare you say any thing half so clever, you naughty, naughty, naughty boy?

Enter COCKLETOP from house, R.

Cockle. (R.) Now, Mrs. Smith-ah! good day, O’Lugger. Well, Sir, take your blushing bride and follow me to the back parlor. While she's putting the finishing stroke to her toilette, you and I'll put the finishing stroke to the settlements.

Lar. (L., aside) Now for my plan—now to emancipate the pussy-cat in the bag! (aloud) The sad truth must be told. I've been rather ordered off instantly for three days on special business—that rogue, Van Smelt, the Dutch smuggler, has been seen ashore near the Foreland-here's your own warrant and description, Mr. Justice's Clerk, (pulls out paper and reads) "Two hundred pounds reward ! Van Smelt, Dutchman, 5 “feet 2 inches high, and may be an inch or two more across “ the shoulders—Features, handsome, but not to be seen "for his whiskers – Dress, a large black cloak lined with “ fiery red-wears collar up and hat down to shew his face “is concealed. Whoever will capture, or give information, “et cetera, et cetera." My compliments to the Gimps and Bobbinses. I wish you a very good morning. (making of')

Mrs. S. (L., seizes one arm) No you don't.

Cockle. (R., seizes the other) You don't indeed: for I've 'his moinent received information that the terrific Dutchman is tied neck and heels, and safe in Deal Castle-s0 come along to the back parlor and finish the affair.

Lar. It's no sort of use Oh, Larry O'Lugger! this is the consequence of your handsome personal exterior, you divil you! (Mrs. Smith pulls him) If Nature ever has to make you over again, I only hope she'll leave out your personal exterior altogether!

[Exeunt into Mrs. Smith's house,

Enter Smith rapidly, looks about, and paces up and down

excited. He wears a large black cloak, which he throws off.

Smith. England ! England ! do I behold thee, jolly old England ? How often in the back wilds of wild Kentuck -in the silent solitudes of Old Virginny, where no human voice but the hyæna's was ever heard-how often have I exclaimed with Dr. Johnson, “England, with all my faults I love thee still !” Yes, I love thee, England-upon my honor as a gentleman, I love thee still. In short, England, you may rest perfectly satisfied that I love thee still. By: the-hye, England, I don't know if you're aware of it, but a rather singular adventure has already occurred to me. About half way between this and Broadstairs, a man suddenly emerged from a ravine on the sea shore; his fine features were well muffled in hair, which he seemed particularly anxious I should take notice of; for out of the vernacular Lingo which he began spluttering right and left, I could make nothing out but, a Mine hair! mine hair !" His expressive gestures gave me, however, distinctly to understand, that he wanted something to eat and drink, and wished to sell this cloak for ten shillings. The cloak being uncommonly cheap, and the day being remarkably cold, I felt charity for a fellow creature and bought the cloak. However, I want no cloak just now, for my proceedings must be open, public, and solemn. So hang there awhile, my four half-crowner! (hangs cloak on tree) Let me see, the instructions I got at Broadstairs were, to the East Cliff near the Flagstaff. There's the Cliff, sure enough; and there stands the friend of my youth, the Flagstaff! What do I see ? (reads) “Sarah Smith, Widow, Dealer in Coffee, Tea, Tobacco, and Snuff.” 'Tis she? 'Tis my longlost, but still doting Sarah! The news of my death has reached her then-I thought so. I hear the most distinct sobbing : (loud laughing heard) fluctuating with bursts of maniac laughter! (looks in) Ah! 'tis she herself! and, as I expected, looking considerably older than she was twenty years ago—but I say, stop a bit-who's that florid marine warrior sitting cheek by jowl with her ? (jumping) Ah! by yon skyblue Heaven she smacks him on the cheek, as she used invariably to smack me-only not by any means

so hard—and whispers ! (coming forward) Umph! What means this sinister foreboding? Is it possible, when I've been dead only ten years—when her husband's cinders are scarcely cold-is it possible her thoughts are already wandering from his beloved tombstone ?, I must pop the awful question to somebody-I must pick up some tittle-tattle somewhere—and in the nick of time, a qualified young woman comes this way. (retires)

Enter SALLY, L.

Sal. Oh, ain't I glad! the cap can't be ready and won't be ready before to-morrow !

Smith. I'll salute her. (advances) Miss
Sal. Sir!

Smith. (R. c.) She's angry! She's not a miss. I've made a mistake. (to her) Mrs., I mean

Sal. (L. c., still louder) Sir!

Smith. She's angry! She's not a Mrs. (to her) Well, I won't attempt again to say what class of female you belong to: all I want is, a little female gossip.

Sal. Oh, with the greatest of pleasure! I don't know who you are, but you've got a nice, old, fatherly face of your own; and since I've been so ill-used, I'll tell every. body everything.

Smith. Your confidence is flattering. Well, then, I'll trouble your confidence to tell me whether you happen to know the proprietor of yonder establishment of tea and snuff ?

Sal. Why to be sure I do. That's my mother! Smith. (aside) Gracious powers! Is it possible ! Something whispered me that this lovely young sprig must be a shoot from me. 'Tis my own little Sally! (to her) My dear Miss Smith, you're at liberty to pour your sorrows into my bosom. Come, what have you got to

pour

? Sal. Only this; that my own mother is going marry my own young man in ten minutes' time—that's all. They're settling matters together in the back parlor at this very moment.

Smith. The devil they are !
Sal. What shall I do?
Smith. Do? Go, burst open the door, and, with the

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