always full of them—servants usually are.

Dunn. (aside) Groom! he keeps a horse, then. He must be pretty well to do. (aloud) Take a seat, sir. (they both sit, Dunn., l., Smith, r.)

Smith. Thanks. So you are desirous of disposing of Fanny, Mr. Dunnbrowne?

Dunn. (aside) Disposing of her! (aloud) Well er—that is one way of putting it, but I scarcely like to——(pause)

Smith. Oh, I quite understand your feelings, sir. You have grown quite fond of her, and now you find it rather hard to part with her; but you'll soon get over that. I've parted with several in my time. Excuse my asking, sir, but what are your reasons for parting with her? Do you find her too expensive?

Dunn. Well er—rather; and as I have three of them to keep I——(pause)

Smith. I see—you thought you could possibly spare one of them. Well now, what are her good points? Is she good at jumping walls or fences?

Dunn. (aside) Walls! Fences!

Smith. Can she clear a five-barred gate nicely?

Dunn. (smiling) Well, er—I really could not answer that question. Jumping is an accomplishment that I——(pause)

Smith. Perhaps you never tried her at that sort of thing. You ought to, sir, it's fine sport. The last I had was a perfect stunner at it.

Dunn. (aside) The last he had! He has been married before, then—a widower, evidently.

Smith. She turned a little stubborn occasionally, though, and has thrown me over her head two or three times.

Dunn. (aside) Bless me! what a powerful woman she must have been.

Smith. I cured her of that nasty trick after she had repeated it a time or two, I did so. I gave her the lash pretty freely.

Dunn. (aside) Why, the man is nothing less than a wife-beater.

Smith. She soon found out who was master. There's nothing so effective as the whip to cure stubbornness, sir, nothing at all.

Dunn. I suppose not; but don't you think that kind of treatment is rather too harsh?

Smith. Oh, dear no; on the contrary, I think a little now and again does them a power of good.

Dunn. (aside) What a hard hearted fellow he must be. He will have to alter his opinions before he marries my daughter, that he will. (aloud) I may tell you, Mr. Smith, that if I thought you would ill-treat Fanny at all, I should not allow you to take her.

Smith. Don't be afraid of that, my dear sir. I should not ill-treat her if it were not necessary. Does she shy at all when she is out?

Dunn. Shy! That is a peculiar question to ask about a——

Smith. Not at all, Mr. Dunnbrowne. I like to know what I am getting. If I take her from you and find that she shies at anything I shall get rid of her without delay. I shall indeed.

Dunn. (aside) Well, that is cool. He has the impudence to tell me that he would "get rid" of my daughter. I am beginning to dislike this fellow.

Smith. You see, Mr. Dunnbrowne, I want one who will go ahead in the face of everything—a regular fast one that's the sort.

Dunn. (aside) What peculiar taste some men have!

Smith. Is Fanny ever troubled with corns?

Dunn. Corns, sir, corns? No!

Smith. I am glad of that. I don't care to see them walking lame in the slightest. It quite spoils their appearance. Is she quite sound in every other respect?

Dunn. Well, yes, I never heard her complain. (aside) What odd questions he asks!

Smith. She does not cough or wheeze, Mr. Dunnbrowne, does she? She is not broken-winded at all, is she?

Dunn. Broken-winded! I don't understand you, Mr. Smith. Why do you ask so many absurd questions about her? You are not obliged to have her if you don't choose to.

Smith. I am perfectly aware of that, sir. I am simply asking fair questions. As I said before, I want to know what I am getting. I don't want to make a blind bargain. Can I see her now?

Dunn. Not at present—she is out.

Smith. Taking exercise, I suppose. Well now, Mr. Dunnbrowne, I'll tell you what I will do. I will take her a month on trial.

Dunn. You'll what, sir? You—you'll take her a month on trial! What the dickens do you mean? How dare you propose such a thing to me, sir! (rises)

Smith. Simply because I consider that it is the fairest way of dealing in transactions of this sort. (Dunn. walks across stage) You have no occasion to be vexed at my proposal. I give you my word that I will treat her kindly and pay all expenses during the month, and if she does not suit me I will return her. That is fair and square for both parties, don't you think so?

Dunn. No, sir, I do not think so. If you have a notion that I—the parent of three blooming daughters—am willing to permit you to trifle and play with the affections of the eldest of them in the manner you have so basely proposed, I must ask you to dispel that notion at once and forever, for you never labored under a greater mistake in your life, never.

Smith. Now there is just a little bit of sentiment in that speech, and I must admit that you delivered it in a fair dramatic style, Mr. Dunnbrowne, but you see the general effect is marred by my not knowing what you are driving at. What do you mean?

Dunn. Mean, sir, mean? I think I explained myself sufficiently.

Smith. Scarcely. You volunteer some remarks about your daughters. Now, with all the respect that is due to those young ladies, I must ask you to put your parental feelings aside for a short time, and proceed with the business we have on hand. Ladies are out of my line altogether. Between you and me, Mr. Dunnbrowne, I am not a marrying man.

Dunn. Not a marrying man! Then what under the sun did you write me that letter for respecting your love for my daughter, eh?

Smith. Write you? Why, I never heard your name before this morning.

Dunn. (aside) This is very strange. Can there be a mis—(aloud) Your name is Smith, is it not?

Smith. Yes, that is my name.

Dunn. Ah! (takes a letter from his pocket and unfolds it) Now tell me, Mr. Smith, on your honor as a gentleman, did you or did you not write that letter to me? (giving the letter to Smith)

Smith. (reads) "Dear sir,—for a long period of time I have fondly and madly loved your daughter Fanny with—" Oh, rubbish! On my honor as a gentleman, Mr. Dunnbrowne, I never loved any man's daughter, much less wrote this letter; besides, it is signed John Smith and my name is James. (returns the letter)

Dunn. (aside) I cannot understand this at all. (aloud) As you are not the Mr. Smith I took you for, and have not come to see me about my daughter, perhaps you will inform me what you did come for.

Smith. What I came for? Well, that's not bad for you after listening to all I have said. Have you forgotten that you wrote me saying you had a mare to dispose of?

Dunn. Wrote you about a mare!

Smith. What a forgetful man you must be. (takes letter from his pocket—opens it and gives it to Dunn., who looks it over) That is the letter; perhaps it will recall the circumstance to mind.

Dunn. I have not written this, sir. (keeps the letter in his hand)