_Mary._ Well, these are sails, Jack, sails for the little ship that's coming across the water for you and me. [Illustration: Mr. Herne as Reuben Foxglove in "The Minute Men." See page 544.] I quote a few lines from another scene. Christmas morning. Hester and Silas, some young friends, have come in to take breakfast. All are seated at the table with much bustle and laughter. Lish Mead, Mary's foster father, pokes his head in the door. _Lish Mead._ Wish you Merry Christmas. _All._ (_Hilariously._) Merry Christmas! Come in. _Lish._ Can't less some on ye hol's th' door open. _Silas._ I'll hold it, Lish. (_Lish enters, hauling a warehouse truck on which is a barrel of flour and a large hamper._) _Lish._ Mister Seward wanted I should hand ye these with his complements. _Mary._ Oh, how kind of Mr. Seward, and how good of you to bring 'em. _Jack._ Set down here, Lish, and have a bite o' breakfast. _Lish._ (_Taking off mittens, cap, comforter, etc._) Whatcher got? Chicking? Waal, that's good 'nough. (_Seats himself at table._) Say, Jack, d' you know, you left a goose a-layin' on Jim Adamses bar las' night? I was goin' to fetch it along but Jim said you gin it to him, swore you made him a present on it. _Mother._ Jack Hepburn, did you give that goose-- _Mary._ (_Interrupting her._) Have a cup of coffee, mother. _Lish._ Jack, have you got the time o' day? (_Chuckles._) Here's y'r new Waterbury. The boys wanted I should fetch her 'round; ye went off las' night without her. _Jack._ Ye can take her back again; I don't want her. _Mary._ O Jack! _Jack._ No, Mary, I don't. I wish the durned ol' Waterbury 'd never been born. _Mary._ The boys meant well, Jack; I wouldn't send back their present. _Jack._ All right, Mary, if you say so, I'll take her. There's one thing sure, every time I wind her up she'll put me in mind how durn near I come to losin' the best little wife in the whole world. This play brought me to know Mr. and Mrs. Herne. It needed but an hour's talk to convince me that I had met two of the most intellectual artists in the dramatic profession, and also to learn how great were the obstacles which lay in the way of producing a real play, each year adding to the insuperableness of the barriers. Mr. Herne was at that time (two years ago) working upon a new play, in some respects, notably in its theme, finer than _Drifting Apart_. It was the result of several summers spent on the coast of Maine, and is called _Shore-Acres_. The story is mainly that of two brothers, Nathaniel and Martin Berry, who own a fine "shore-acre" tract near a booming summer resort. An enterprising grocer in the little village gets Martin interested in booms and suggests that they form a company and cut the shore-acre tract up into lots and sell to summer residents.