Mother wants me to write. She says: Tell Mary that I talked it all over with your father, and he asked old Pete Rosson, and then I wrote to the lecture woman up to Boston, and she says you must have a captain’s license so’s you can keep the boat. And she says you must apply to the Local Inspectors (here is a blank for you to fill out), and that if you pass your examination they will see that it is sent to Washington to the Solicitor of the Treasury. You must write to Mr. Le Brun or Mr. Cholmly, Local Inspectors, New Orleans, La. Do it right off before Mr. Romberg gets a chance to take away the boat. And oh! mother says you must sign your own name to the application—Mary Miller, or Mary Gandy Miller (’cause it isn’t legal to sign your husband’s name, and _Mrs._ is nothing but a title). She’s found out that a woman has no more right, legally, to use her husband’s first name and title than he has to use hers. She says Martha Washington had more sense than to call herself Mrs. George, or Mrs. General, or Mrs. President Washington. Plain Martha Washington was good enough for her. And oh! the folks round here are real proud of you, to think you can manage a steamboat, and old Pete Rosson says “it’s a darned shame you have such a hard time, and he hopes you won’t give up the ship.” He expects to go to the Legislature this winter, and he says “if the men at Washington don’t let you have the captain’s license, he’ll vote agin every mother’s son on ’em.” Yours, as usual, JOHN QUINCY ADAMS GANDY. MARY (_folding the letter)_. Dear, dear folks at home! How good they are to tell me just what to do! I must write my application at once. (_Sits down at the table._) PHUS. Is de folks well, mis’, an’ de cap’n? MARY (_writing_). Yes, Phus, the folks are well; but the letter is not from the captain. I do not expect to hear from him at present. PHUS. O, Lor’! mis, is dat so? MARY. Yes, Phus. You wait round till I get this letter done, then you carry it to the post-office. I want an answer from it, right off, as soon as I can get it. PHUS. Yes, mis’. (_He goes out_, L., _keeps popping his head in and tiptoeing round_.) MARY (_folding up the letter, and putting it in a long envelope_). There! my blank is all filled out, and my letter written; both signed plain Mary Miller, which means to me (_sighing_) that I must hereafter stand alone,—legally, at any rate, and take the responsibility of all my actions. No more hiding behind a husband’s or a father’s name. Plain Mary Miller! A good name, and I must show that I am worthy of it. (_To_ PHUS) There, be as quick as you can; and then come back here and take care of the baby while I go on deck. (_She goes to the cradle._) PHUS. Yes, mis’! I’m skippin’. (_Exit_ R.) CURTAIN. ACT V.