SCENE I.—_In the parlor. MR. SMITH reclining on the sofa. He

has a newspaper in his hand, but is not reading. MRS. S. enters L., wearing a plain dress._

MR. SMITH. Seems to me, Amanda, that for one who runs up such a bill as I paid yesterday, you don’t appear remarkably well dressed. What have you done with all the gay garments Madame Dubois has lately made for you?

MRS. SMITH. I haven’t run up any bill, and I don’t patronize Madame Dubois. She is too high in her charges for people in our circumstances.

MR. S. But why should she send her bill here? It was directed in full, to John Smith, Taylor’s Block, Central Street.

MRS. S. I’m sure I don’t know. All I can say is, there must be some mistake. She never made any garments whatever for me. By the way, have you the bill with you?

MR. S. Yes, here it is. (_Takes bill from his pocket, unfolds it, and shows it to his wife._)

MRS. S. What is the amount?

MR. S. One hundred and twenty-five dollars and forty-seven cents.

MRS. S. (_surprised_). And you paid it?

MR. S. Certainly; I supposed it was all right.

MRS. S. Well, I don’t know what can be done about it. I never had any of the articles mentioned.

MR. S. Do you suppose there is another person of the same name on this street?

MRS. S. Yes, Bridget told me, last evening, there were three other John Smiths on this street, two of whom live in this block.

MR. S. Then there’ll be no end of mistakes.

MRS. S. None as serious as this, I hope.

(_Enter BRIDGET, R., bearing a letter, which she passes to MR. S._)

BRIDGET. An’ here’s a letther the postman brought, sir.

MR. S. (_examines superscription, which he reads aloud_). “Mr. John Smith, Taylor’s Block, Central Street, B——.”

(_Exit BRIDGET, R._)

MRS. S. Where is it from?

MR. S. It is postmarked Ramsey, Minnesota.

MRS. S. Have you acquaintances there?

MR. S. It seems so, though I wasn’t aware of it.

MRS. S. Do open the letter. I’m really curious to know whom it is from.

MR. S. Ah, yes, woman’s curiosity! How do you know but it may be privacy?

MRS. S. I am satisfied that it is not. At all events, I’m willing to run the risk.

MR. S. Courageous woman! Then I will venture to open it. (_Cuts off edge of envelope and draws out a small, square piece of paper which he begins to read aloud._)

“You thief, you! You villain, you! So you’ve basely gone off and taken my best dress and bonnet, and all the silver my father gave me when I was married! I suppose you intended to adorn your wife with the clothes you stole! But you shan’t do it, as sure as my name is Dorothy Ann. I’ve got track of you, and just as quick as I can get money enough, I’m coming right along after you. You’re a mean, shiftless, lazy, good-for-nothing villain, and if you don’t send all back within a week, I’ll send the police after you.”

MR. S. (_turns towards his wife, smiling_). There’s quite an inducement for John Smith. What do you think of that for a character? I’d better not have read the letter aloud. Perhaps you will begin to repent having married me.

MRS. S. I ought to, certainly, if this letter is true. But you haven’t given me the dress and bonnet yet.

MR. S. No, I never thought of it. I wonder if it was the wife of this John Smith whose bill I paid.

MRS. S. Don’t know. I think it’s doubtful if you ever find the one to whom it rightfully belongs.

MR. S. I must try, at all events. I don’t feel like losing so much money, or paying other people’s dressmaker’s bills.

(_Curtain falls._)