The Exhibition Drama: Comprising Drama, Comedy, and Farce, Together with Dramatic and Musical Entertainments — John Shaqi
The Exhibition Drama: Comprising Drama, Comedy, and Farce, Together with Dramatic and Musical EntertainmentsBaker, George M. (George Melville)
History
The Exhibition Drama: Comprising Drama, Comedy, and Farce, Together with Dramatic and Musical Entertainments
Baker, George M. (George Melville)
Amateur plays; Drama
_Rob._ The boys are making merry to-night around the camp-fire;
but that lively air brings only sadness to me. "The girl I left behind
me," two years ago, in Grainlow, Gaylie Gifford, is still silent. Not a
line in reply to my frequent letters. Has she repented of her choice?
No, I cannot believe that; for my sister writes me she often speaks of
me, longs for my return. But yet she never writes. Perhaps she has
never received mine; 'tis hardly possible, and yet her silence—Can my
enemy, the colonel, be conspiring to keep us apart? He is base enough
to use any means to serve his purpose. By his orders, the mail is
brought here, and inspected by him, before delivery; perhaps, that he
may intercept any letters for me. If I could only get a single line
from her, I would be content. Oh! I am ground down worse than any slave
that tills the earth beneath the overseer's lash. Two years of service,
and still a private! I know I have been honorably mentioned many times
by my captain; and yet poorer men step above me: and I toil on, fight
on, with no hope of promotion. Well, they shall not say I have not done
my duty. Will the end never come, and free me from this bondage, give
me liberty to turn my steps northward, to seek the star of promise that
gleams in Gaylie's eyes? Halt! Who goes there?
_Crimp_ (_comes from_ L., _passes the window, and appears at door
speaking_). D-d-d-on't shoot! d-d-d-on't shoot! I's only a poor old
darky, Massa Sentenull.
_Rob._ Your business here?
_Crimp._ Pressing b-b-business; d-d-d-on't shoot! Want to see de
colonel.
_Rob._ The colonel is absent.
_Crimp._ Den I'll walk into de parlor, take a cheer, and wait for
um. D-d-d-on't shoot!
_Rob._ Business. Your pass, uncle.
_Crimp._ Pass: yes, massa, got a pass. Here she am! (_Searches
pocket._) Golly! it am gone. No, here she am! (_Searches bosom._) Not a
pass; had um, sure; hope I may die—
_Rob._ What's that sticking out of your hat?
_Crimp._ Golly, dat's so! (_Takes off hat, paper sticking out of
crown_). Put um up dar to keep um safe. (_Hands pass._)
_Rob_ (_examines paper_). The pass is right: pass in. (_Resumes
march._)
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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