Past Redemption. Baker George Melville
Past Redemption A Drama in Four Acts
COSTUMES
John Maynard. Act I. Mixed pants and vest, blue striped shirt, collar rolled over vest, without necktie, straw hat, bald gray wig, heavy gray side-whiskers. Act II. and IV. Add a dark coat.
Harry Maynard. Act I. Neat gray suit, with game-bag, felt hat, leggings. Act III. White shirt without collar, rusty black pants, and coat out at elbows, unshorn face, hollow eyes. Act IV. Light pants, dark vest and coat, with white overcoat, high-colored handkerchief thrown about the neck, felt hat.
Robert Thornton. Act I. Light gray suit, leggings, game-bag, felt hat, heavy watch-chain, and full black beard and moustache. Act II. Handsome black suit, black hat, light overcoat on his arm. Act III. Fashionable suit, with a liberal display of jewelry. Act IV. Dirty black pants, torn at the knee, white shirt, soiled and ragged, showing a red shirt beneath; rough grizzled beard and wig; pale and haggard; dark, ragged coat.
Tom Larcom. Act I. and II. Rough farmer's suit. Act III. Flashy mixed suit, false moustache and chin-whiskers. Act IV. Neat suit with overcoat and felt hat.
Nat Harlow. Neat mixed business suit; a little dandified.
Hanks and Huskers. Farmer's rough suits.
Capt. Bragg. Dark pants, white vest, blue coat with brass buttons, military stock and dickey; tall felt hat; bald gray wig, and military whiskers.
Murdock. Fashionable dress.
Daley. Dark pants and vest, white apron, sleeves rolled up, no coat.
Stub. Act I. Gray pants, blue striped shirt. Act III. Dark pants, white vest, red necktie, standing collar, black hat, short black coat. Acts II. and IV. Same as first with the addition of a coat.
Mrs. Maynard. Acts I. and II. Cheap calico dress. Act IV. Brown dress, with white apron, collar and cuffs. Gray wig for all.
Charity, age about thirty-five. Act II. Pretty muslin dress, with a white apron, tastefully trimmed, lace cap, light wig. Act III. Gray dress handsomely trimmed, gray waterproof cloak. Act III. Dark travelling dress, handsome cloak and hat.
Jessie. Act I. Muslin dress, with collar and cuffs. Act II. Something of the same kind. Act III. Handsome dress of light color. Act IV. Gray travelling dress, with cloak and hat.
Kitty. Act I. Light muslin dress. Act II. Something of the same kind. Act IV. Red dress, white collar and cuffs, shawl and hat.
Chorus of Ladies for Act III. Dark and light dresses, with "clouds" of different colors about their heads.
Act I. – A Husking at the Old Home
Scene. —A barn. In flat, large door to roll back l., closed; above door, hay-mow, practicable staging, loose hay piled upon it; over that, window, through which moonbeams stream. l., stalls with harness suspended from pegs, bench on which are two basins and towels. r., bins, above stalls and bins, r. and l., hay-mow with hay (painted). r. c., two benches thus:
Stub. Golly! hear dat now, will you? D-d-dat what I call music in de har, fur it jes make my har stan' on end, yes, it does. And I feel – I feel jes as dough I was skewered onto dat ar fiddle-bow, an' bein' drawed frou a sea ob bilin' merlasses. Golly, so sweet!
Nat. There's a first-class puff for you, Hanks, from the mouth of a critic – with a black border.
Tom. You do beat all nater, Hanks, with the fiddle; your hand is as cute, and your ear as fine, as though the one had never held a plough, or the other listened to the jingling of a cowbell. Talk of your genuses. Give me the chap that's a Jack at any thing, from digging ninety tater-hills afore breakfast, to sparking a pretty girl at 'leven o'clock on a starlight night.
Stub. Wid de ole man comin' roun' de corner ob de house wid a double-barrel rebolver, "You scoot or I shoot." Don't forget de embellishments, Tom Larcom. (All laugh.)
Nat. Ha, ha! had you there, Tom.
Tom. What are you laughing at? If old Corum mistook me for a prowler one night, am I to blame?
Stub. Coorse not, coorse not, when you didn't stop to 'lucidate, but jumped de fence and scooted down de road hollering "Murder!" (Laugh.)
Tom (flinging an ear of corn at Stub). A little more ear and less tongue, Stub.
Stub (ducking his head). Don't waste de fodder. Had ear enough dat night. Golly! jes woke de whole neighborhood.
Tom. Ah! the course of true love never did run smooth.
Stub. By golly! you – you found it pretty smoove runnin' dat night.
Tom (threatening Stub). Will you be quiet?
Stub. Ob coorse. Don't waste de fodder.
Nat. Ah, Tom, Nature never cut you out for a lover.
Tom. P'r'aps not; but I've got art enough to cut you out, Nat, if you do make up to my property, Kitty Corum. (Enter Kitty, r., overhearing last words.)
Kitty. Indeed! Your property! I like that. And when, pray, did you come into possession?
Tom. That's for you to say, Kitty. I'm an expectant heir as yet. Don't forget me in your will, Kitty.
Nat. Don't write your will in his favor.
Kitty.
"When a woman wills she wills: depend on't;
And when she won't she won't, and there's the end on't."
Tom (sings). "If I could write my title clear."
Nat. Give me the title, Kitty.
Tom. I'd give you a title – Counter-jumper, Yardstick; that's about your measure. You talk about titles; why, all you are good for is to measure tape and ribbons, cut "nigger-head," shovel sugar, and peddle herrings for old Gleason. Bah! I smell soap now.
Nat (jumping up). You just step outside, and you shall smell brimstone, and find your measure on the turf, Tom Larcom.
Kitty. There, there, stop that! I'll have no quarrelling. Supper's nearly ready, and the corn not finished.
Tom. We'll be ready for the supper, Kitty. If I could only find a red ear.
Kitty. And if you could?
Tom. I should make an impression on those red lips of yours that would astonish you.
Kitty. Indeed! It would astonish me more if you had the chance. (Laugh.) But where's Harry Maynard?
Tom. Off gunning with Mr. Thornton. He said he'd be back in time for the husking: they must have lost their way.
Kitty. His last night at home, too.
Stub. Yas, indeed. Off in de mornin', afore de broke ob day. I's gwine to drive dem ober to de steam-jine station. Miss Jennie gwine to see him off; 'spect she'll jes cry her eyes out comin' home.
Tom. Well, I can't see the use of Harry Maynard's trottin' off to the city with this Mr. Thornton. Let well enough alone, say I. Here's a good farm, and a smart, pretty girl ready to share life with him; and yet off he goes to take risks in something he knows nothing about.
Kitty. Don't say a word against Mr. Thornton; he's just splendid.
Chorus of Girls. Oh, elegant!
Tom.