SCENE I.—_FRANK is seated, R., in the depths of an arm-chair,

his feet resting on the table. He is smoking a cigar. Enter EDWIN, L._

EDWIN. Well, Frank, you look decidedly cosey and comfortable, that’s a fact.

FRANK (_not altering his position, but motioning his visitor to a seat_). That’s the way to do. One might as well enjoy life as he goes along. Have a cigar, Aldrich? (_Offers him an open case, in which are cigars._)

E. (_throwing himself on a lounge, L. C._). No, Frank, I believe not. The fact is, I’ve reformed—given up smoking.

F. Whew! I’ll wager that’s one of the consequences of matrimony.

E. I don’t deny it. But I think smoking is a bad habit, and have thought of giving it up before, but never could persevere till now. That reminds me, Frank; why don’t you marry? I dare say you could find some one in the city foolish enough to take you for better or worse. And you don’t know what a comfort ’tis to a man to have a good wife and a pleasant home.

F. That’s where the trouble is (_fondly stroking his mustache_). As you say, I could easily persuade some one to marry me, knowing as they do that I possess plenty of money. But don’t you think it would make a difference if I were a poor man?

E. I dare say it might with some persons; but all are not alike. I am sure there are many who esteem wealth of less importance than personal worth.

F. (_assuming a sitting posture, and laying cigar down_). I have often thought I should like to marry; but when I looked around among the ladies with whom I was brought in contact, I became disgusted to see what frivolous lives they led.

E. But all women are not alike, Frank.

F. That may be so, but where shall I go to look for a different class? I have strong domestic tastes, and would be glad to change my present state of single blessedness for a married life. If I could find my ideal of a wife, I would marry at once.

E. I’ll tell you what it is, Frank. You must go into the country. The girls are mostly sensible there, and think less about dress and fashion. You can assume another name, and then look around you, and become acquainted with some of the country girls. My wife was born and brought up in the country, so I can speak from experience.

F. But how could I manage? I couldn’t go to a hotel and stop with nothing to do. Country girls are ambitious as well as those who live in the city, and if I remained there with no occupation, I should be supposed to be a man of some property, and I shouldn’t be much better off than I am here.

E. That’s so, my friend. I never gave you credit for so much shrewdness. But isn’t there anything you could do,—any kind of business, I mean?

F. I have it. I’ll hire myself out on a farm. In that way, as one of the family, I shall become more intimately acquainted with the neighborhood—girls included.

E. Imagine fastidious Benjamin Franklin Webster dressed in coarse clothes and cowhide boots! (_Looking upward._) Shades of the illustrious men whose names he bears, look down with benignity on the depth of degradation to which he proposes to descend!

F. (_smiling_). That’ll do, Ed. I am only following the example of at least one of those illustrious men in working on a farm.

E. And those delicate hands, that never did any manual labor, are to be used in milking the cows and holding the plough!

F. Laugh away, Ed. I’ve made my plans, and now I’m going to carry them out.

E. But, seriously, will your strength hold out?

F. Without doubt. Besides, every one says farming is the most healthful occupation any one can follow. So you may expect to see me back in the fall so stout and fleshy that my friends will hardly know me.

E. And perhaps you will bring Mrs. Benjamin Franklin Webster with you.

F. That’s very uncertain. I haven’t really very great faith in the project myself; but I’m tired of my present way of living, and any change will be welcome, even if it does not bring about the desired result.

E. But how are you going to obtain the situation?

F. How am I? (_Smiling._) That’s the question before the meeting.

E. Suppose you advertise for one. That would be the best way, I think.

F. The very thing. Couldn’t you write an advertisement for me, Ed? You know I’m modest, and couldn’t, of course, speak of my qualifications as well as you could.

(_EDWIN takes sheet of paper from the table, and writes for a few moments; then reads it._)

E. (_reading_). “WANTED—By a young man, a situation on a farm. Is willing to work for moderate wages, provided he can learn the business. Address Franklin Forrester, Box 68.” How will that do, Frank?

F. I guess that’ll answer. But what paper would it be best to insert it in? The evening “Herald”?

E. Oh no, that wouldn’t do. It must be an agricultural paper. Better put it into several; then you will be more sure of a reply.

F. I’ll insert it in every agricultural paper in the city. If I get one reply from each, I shall have at least six.

E. Very well. If one has an object in view, there’s nothing like taking every method to accomplish it.

(_Curtain falls._)