_Mrs. C._ [_wishing to buy for her salon in New York a fine old white pine fan-backed rocking-chair she has discovered upon a farmhouse veranda_]: Can you tell me if there is a family of the name of Pibuddy living in this vicinity? _Peasant_: No, I can’t. _Mrs. C._: Or Littlefield? _Peasant_: Never heard of ’em. _Mrs. C._: Or Smith? _Peasant_: They’s some Smiths up at Baxter’s Dam Corners. Them who ye lookin’ fer? _Mrs. C._: Yes. They are the very ones. I want to take them a cradle for their baby, as they are relatives of mine. Have you a cradle for sale? _Peasant_: No, I ain’t. _Mrs. C._: Or any watermelons, perhaps? _Peasant_: Don’t grow none. _Mrs. C._: I’m _so_ sorry. I haven’t seen these dear old cousins of mine for _so_ long; and I _did_ want to take them some little thing to please them. I’d give as high as three or four dollars for a cradle or a watermelon. _Peasant_: I don’t see no way to oblige ye. _Mrs. C._ [_affecting to discover the rocking-chair_]: Oh, I know what we could do. My chauffeur is very ingenious. I could give you forty cents for that old chair and he can make a cradle out of it as we go along. _Peasant_: That chair’s wuth more’n forty cents. It’s wuth a dollar if it’s wuth a penny! _Mrs. C._ [_handing the peasant a dollar_]: Thank you! Please place it in my car. [_Exit._] DIALOGUE III _Miss D._ [_entering country general store because she has seen through the window a magnificent 1804 Seneca grate-burner stove with a fire-back showing the arms of Massachusetts which she wishes to add to her collection_]: Have you by chance seen a lost Mexican hairless dog with one white forefoot, three brown, and a slight limp? _Storekeeper_: Who? _Miss D._: I am looking for a lovely little dog without any hair and very susceptible to low temperatures. _Storekeeper_: We don’t handle none. _Miss D._: He is lost, but I should fear to find him here because your store is so chilly and he would lack warmth. I wonder you do not buy a new stove. Permit me to send you one. _Storekeeper_: Who be ye? _Miss D._: I will give you my address. [_Hands him her card._] I fear if my lost little hairless dog should wander in here he would find the air too cold. On that account I wish to offer you a modern stove in place of that fearful old thing yonder. When the new stove arrives, will you be so kind as to have this old one shipped to me, express charges collect, as a slight compensation for the trouble I am taking on account of my dear little dog’s health? _Storekeeper_: If you send me a new stove, I’ll _do_ it, by ’Ory! _Miss D._: That is all I wished to ascertain. Thanking you—[Exit _laughingly_.] DIALOGUE IV [_Professor K., the well-known historian, has heard that a Fisherman of Martha’s Vineyard owns a set of Venetian glass comfit boxes once the property of Henri Quatre. He enters the Fisherman’s shack._]