print, the very ugliest we can find. Then we must go to the attic and rummage over those great chests; perhaps I can find something in them I shall need. There is granuma's wedding gown; it has a short bodice and long train, embroidered off so handsomely; it will be the very thing for Cousin Lizzie's party.

JANE. Why, Kate, you surprise me.

KATE.-I shall surprise you worse before I am ready. I must have some cheap artificial flowers and red ribbon for my hair.

JANE.-Kate, my dear sister, you are not in earnest ? KATE. Never was more so in my life. I intend to be as near what Miss Elizabeth Twist supposes I am as I possibly can. We must select the oldest-fashioned bonnet we can find in the attic, and if there is no feather in it, we'll rob the old turkey for feathers. I'll have to be in the fashion.

JANE.-But you will wear your new velvet cloak and bonnet, will you not?

KATE. I shall take them, of course. I intend to make a visit to Professor Allen's first. I shall lead Jennie into the secret. Won't she enjoy the joke? I expect her father has wealth enough to buy and keep Uncle Twist, and Jennie never puts on such airs. I wonder how much better the society is in which Miss Twist moves. Won't I surprise her, though?

JANE. Yes, Kate; it will be a sufficient punishment for her to meet you with Miss Jennie Allen, without making yourself ridiculous.

KATE.-Not for me; I feel too utterly indignant to let her off so easily; just let me step into her parlor when it is full of aristocratic society, won't I Cousin Betty her up? [Kate rising.] Come, I am anxious to commence preparation. Isn't there an old short cloth cloak about somewhere, mother used to wear when she was young? JANE. You surely don't mean to take that.

KATE.-Indeed I do. Won't I ent a spread going down. Broadway with my fashionable cousin? [Flirting across the stage.]

JANE.--You will never act thus, dear Kate; think how disgraceful

KATE.-1 will do nothing disgraceful; but I will let

Miss Twist know whom she despises. I will teach her a lesson she will not easily forget; but come, come, I must make my preparations before father and mother come home. I can be all ready against Thursday, and mind, you must not give the true reason for changing your mind.

JANE.--Indeed, Kate, I cannot willingly consent to your going thus.

KATE.--You may as well, for I shall go; so come help me to prepare.

SCENE 3.-City drawing-room. Miss Twist at home. Enter Miss Deans.

MISS TWIST. [Rushing to meet her.]-Come at last. I have been looking for you for an hour, and had begun to fear you were going to play me false. Will you lay aside. your hat and coat here, or go to my dressing-room?

MISS DEANS. -Oh, I will lay them off here. I am so tired-the morning was so fine I did not order the car riage. I thought I would walk, but I found it plenty far enough.

Miss T.-Do take this rocking-chair, and make your self comfortable. [Miss T. touches a bell-maid enters.] Here, Hetty, take this coat and hat to my dressing-room. HETTY. Yes, miss. [Exit Hetty.]

Miss T.-I am so glad you are here. I was so fearful you would disappoint me to-day.

Miss D-Indeed, I denied myself two or three excur sions of pleasure for the sake of spending the day with you. Cousin Frank wanted me to go on an excursion up the Hudson, and Harry Walton wanted me to ride out into the country; but I told them both that I was positively engaged to you for the day.

Miss T.-Oh, Clara, I am so anxious to hear what your dress is to be for the party, you have selected it, of

course.

MISS D.-Yes, indeed. Oh, it's a perfect love! skyblue silk, trimmed with white lace. Harry Walton says I look divinely beautiful ir blue. By the way, have you written to your cousin? Is she coming?

GMM

MISS T.-Yes; I have written, and such a letter as will insure me no intrusion from that quarter.

MISS D.-Oh, Lizzie, maybe she is very lady-like. Only * think how it will insult and grieve her.

MISS T.-Lady-like, indeed! Who ever heard of an old rusty farmer having a lady-like daughter? I'm not going to give myself any uneasiness about it; but I must tell you what my dress is to be; you do not ask.

Miss D.-I am almost dying to hear, notwithstanding Something very brilliant, I expect, as this is your first party

Miss T.-No, not brilliant; plain white silk, without jewel or ornament save a white rose-bud in my hair. Ma says perfect simplicity will be most becoming. I wonder how Count D'Estange will like it.

Miss D.—Oh, he will like it, no doubt. I understand he is perfectly enchanted with you. I should not be surprised if he made you a Countess one of these days.

MISS T-How you do talk, Clara; take care what you put into my head, [starting up and looking surprised.] Mercy on me, what is a stage-coach stopping at our door for? And did you ever see such an object as is alighting? Look, only look at her bonnet!

MISS DAnd just see the bandbox and bundles - it must be your cousin.

MISS T-She is coming up to our door! Heavens help me, Clara, what shall I do? [Sinking on a chair, covering her face with her hands. Enter Kate, who rushes up to Clara, flinging her arms around her-exclaims very loud,] KATE- Lor, Cousin Bets, how glad I be's to see yer! MISS D. [Pushing her away.]—I am not your cousin. KATE [Turning to Lizzie]-You must be my cousin, then, for that feller out there sed you were in here. [Lizzie turns away]

KATE.-Wal, this is a puty way to welcum yer cosin, what's cum so far ter see yer. Haint yer goin' to ax me to take off my fixins'? [Takes off her bonnet and seats herself] I expected you'd have hull lots of manners, bein' brot up in town. Good glory, I wish yer'd say

sumthin'.

Miss T. [aside.]-Oh, Clara, what will I do, what will

MISS D.-Indeed, dear Lizzie, I cannot advise you. KATE.-Goody, do yer call her Lizzie? Why her dad sed last summer she was called after granmarm, and everybody calls her old Betty Twist. Now I look at yer, you look a site like granmarm.

MISS T [aside.]-Oh, this is horrible.

KATE [drawing her chair near Lizzie and taking hold of her dress].-My golly, I guess you think yourself tarnation grand, to wear silk frocks every day. Why, dad thought he was doin' it when he bot this striped thing; but then it is plenty good enough. Some folks Ikes to spend all they have on fine harness; goodness knows that's not the way with dad; he's got lots of money-five hundred dollars, I'll bet, clear grit, above old Dobbin and Browny; plaguey good cow Browny is too, makes four pounds of butter when she has good pasture. Cousin Betty, does yer know how to milk? Marm said she reckoned you'd cum out next summer to our place, so I'll larn yer ef yer don't know. [A pause.] Now, if these 'er winder curtains don't look real harnsome. I was right down sartain they was real silk. Does yer daddy weave this kind of stuff in his factory now-a-days? He used to weave bed tickin' and kalerko in that old factory by our creek. I've hern marm talk about it many a time. [Looking around.] Jimminy, but you've got grandified up since you cum to town to live. These here cheers and that settee thing must hev cost a sight of money.

Miss D.-How ignorant you are-that's a sofa.

KATE.-Oh-a-sofy, is it? Wal, I hev herd of them thing afore, but I forgot; but I'm not so tarnal ignorant, for if yer had been at our house, I wouldn't told yer that if yer hadn't knowed more than a two year old heifer.

MISS T.-Oh, Clara, I shall die; such language will kill me, and only think what an object for a party.

KATE.-Gollyopolis, are you gorn to hev a party? Wal, I got gooder clothes than these along. I have one frock what used to be granmarm's. I tell you it is awful slick; it has a great long train embroidered off harnsomly, and I knowed them kind of things are fashionable now-adays, and marm said I might as well bring it along and

war it if you took me to meetin' or any wars. [Kate goes to her boxes.]

MISS T. [aside.]-What in the world will I do, Clara? She will expect me to take her everywhere. I know I shall die.

MISS D.-I do wonder if she received your letter.

MISS T.-If she did she has not sense enough to appreciate it. I hate to say any thing to her, or I would ask her about it.

[Kate, after putting on a huge apron, returns to her scat with a large stocking, partly finished, with her knitting-bag on her arm.]

KATE.-Don't you gals work any, down here in New York, Cousin Betty? Golly, if a feller comes in up our way and ketches a gal doin' nothin', he puty soon ses she's lazy. I reckon you hev hull lots of beaux, Cousin Betty

Miss T.-Do not call me that horrid name. I sincerely hope there will none come while you are here.

KATE [priming up].-Oh, dear; I expect yer afeard they will fall in love with me; but yer needn't worry; I hev hull lots of them up to hum. I wouldn't give Jack Jinkins for a hull cart-load of yer pussy-lip'd dandies.

MISS D. [looking through the window.]-Is that Count D'Estange crossing the street?

MISS T.-God forbid that he should come here now! KATE [rushing forward].-Count De-who?-Lawsy! I do wish he would come in. Which is he? do tell, so I can see a real Count. Is that him cumin' up to the door? Goody, haint I glad! Now you must introduce me, gals, so I can brag about it when I go home.

[Miss T. [springing forward, gathers up bonnet, cloak, boxes, &c., exclaims]-Do let me show you to your room, so you can dress for dinner.

KATE [hastily snatching a box from her hand, at the same time exclaiming]-Dress, indeed! Dress? wal I gess there will no one kech me dressing. I ken fix up a little 'afore this glass-it's plenty big enough. [Fixes a large headdress of red ribbon and artificial flowers on her head, seats herself and is busy knitting. The Count enters one side of the stage as Miss T. comes forward from the other.]