SCENE I.—_Sitting-room at MR. MARDEN’S. MRS. MARDEN, present,

L._

JOHN (_entering room, R., with boots in his hand_). It’s most time for me to go to the store, Mary. (_Sits down, C., and puts on boots._) I declare it’s astonishing how soon eight o’clock comes these short mornings.

MARY (_who is dusting the room_). It brings to mind the mornings, in the days gone by, when you were obliged to go to school, I suppose.

J. Yes; and I can’t say I enjoy one any more than the other. It’s about as disagreeable as leaving a nice, cosey fire on a winter’s night and getting into a cold bed.

M. But then I think one appreciates his home more, and enjoys the time he is able to pass in it more fully, than if he remained at home.

J. Perhaps you are right, Mary; but I shouldn’t object to try the other way for awhile. (_Tosses slippers under the sofa._)

M. John, dear, hadn’t you better put your slippers in their place?

J. Oh, we’ll consider this their place. Then I shan’t have to go searching after them to-night.

M. There won’t be any need of _searching_ for them. If you put them where they belong, they will be sure to remain there.

J. But it’s a great bother to go out of one’s way for such trifles. They’re much handier lying there, and will be all ready for me to put on to-night.

M. But life is made up of trifles, and leaving things round clutters up the room so.

J. Why, no; a thing looks as well in one place as another. Besides, what’s the use of having a house if you can’t keep things where you want to? But there (_pushing them still farther under the sofa with his foot_), they’re out of sight now. They will be handy, and no one will be the wiser for their being there.

M. But I have to go around every day and pick things up after you.

J. Oh, well, don’t pick them up; just let them stay where they are, and then I can find them when I want them. (_Takes up overcoat from chair, where he had left it on previous evening, puts it on, takes hat from table, and exit, L._)

M. (_alone_). Something must be done to cure John of this careless habit of leaving things around; but how it can be arranged, I cannot tell yet. I must think it over.

(_Curtain falls._)