whatever may be our color or our gifts, forget me! The boy has left us for a time; but, sagamore, you are not alone! Chingachgook grasps the hand of the Scout. friends stand for a moment with bowed heads. The two Quietly, the Delawares in the background divide, and Tamenund appears, leaning, as before, on the arms of his two companions. With hands raised as if in blessing, in a clear voice he addresses his people. TAMENUND. It is enough. Go, children of the Lenape. The anger of the Manitou is not done. Why should Tamenund stay? The pale faces are masters of the earth, and the time of the red men has not yet come again. My day has been too long. In the morning I saw the sons of Unamis happy and strong; and yet, before the night has come, have I lived to see the last warrior of the wise race of the Mohicans. Curtain Epilogue Spirit of the Mohicans Last of all the brave Mohicans, Follow Chingachgook, the mighty, A TALE OF TWO CITIES Charles Dickens PREFATORY NOTE The following situations from A Tale of Two Cities have been chosen for dramatization, as they suggest the plot of the story and offer good studies in character interpretation: The Honest Tradesman at Home, Book II, chap. i. Knitting, Book II, chap. xv. Still Knitting, Book II, chap. xvi. The Knitting Done, Book III, chap. xiv. The only deviation of note from the original in the first scene is the introduction of some of the conversation that occurs between Mr. Cruncher and his son Jerry later on in chap. xiv. In the three scenes that follow, Knitting, Still Knitting, and The Knitting Done, Madame Defarge is the central figure and the progress of her knitting—the register she makes of those doomed to fall at the hands of the Revolutionists marks the progress of the plot of the story. The three together form an interesting dramatic unit. In dramatizing these selections few changes are necessary. The dialogue of the novel is used practically as it stands with occasional abridgment. Change of scene is avoided by having the entire action take place in the first instance, Knitting, within the wine shop, instead of partly there and partly in Dr. Manette's old room over the shop. In the next scene, Still Knitting, the events of the evening and the next day are represented as occurring at the same time. In the last scene, The Knitting Done, both setting and time are kept as in the original. THE HONEST TRADESMAN AT HOME Characters: Mr. Cruncher. Young Jerry. The setting of this scene is changed slightly from that given in the story. The stage should present a room in Mr. Cruncher's home,-bedroom, kitchen, dining-room, in one. A couch with tumbled blankets, indicating that some one has just arisen; a table covered with a scrupulously clean cloth, and set for breakfast; and various pots and pans standing on a shelf in the background to suggest the kitchen, make up the stage furniture. A curtain cutting off a portion of the room is supposed to conceal a stove. In a rather conspicuous position stand dirty boots, a rusty shovel and pickaxe, and Jerry's wooden stool. Mr. Cruncher and his son are discovered finishing their toilets, instead of in bed, as in the original. Mrs. Cruncher is kneeling in one corner of the room. MR. CRUNCHER. [Aside] Bust me, if she ain't at it agin! Mrs. Cruncher rises and sets about placing dishes on the breakfast table. MR. CRUNCHER. [To Mrs. Cruncher] What! You're at it again, are you? MRS. CRUNCHER. [Meekly] I'm sure I'm not doing anything, Jerry. MR. CRUNCHER. I say you are. Aggerawayter? What are you up to, MRS. CRUNCHER. I was only saying my prayers. MR. CRUNCHER. Saying your prayers! You're a nice woman! What do you mean by flopping yourself down and praying agin me? MRS. CRUNCHER. I was not praying against you; I was praying for you. MR. CRUNCHER. You weren't. And if you were, I won't be took the liberty with. [To Young Jerry] Here! your mother's a nice woman, young Jerry, going a-praying agin your father's prosperity. You've got a dutiful mother, you have, my son. You've got a religious mother, you have, my boy-going and flopping herself down, and praying that the bread-and-butter may be snatched out of the mouth of her only child. YOUNG JERRY. [Whining. He has been slowly putting on his jacket, and tying his tie, while listening to his father] Yes, I've got a dutiful mother, I've got a religious mother, and she keeps flopping and praying that my bread-and-butter may be snatched out of my mouth. And me her only child, too! MR. CRUNCHER. Young Jerry, my boy, keep a eye upon your mother now, while I clean my boots, and if you see any signs of more flopping, give me a call. YOUNG JERRY. All right, father. Mr. Cruncher takes his boots off to one side and begins to brush them vigorously, talking as he works, to Mrs. Cruncher. MR. CRUNCHER. And what do you suppose, you conceited female, that the worth of your prayers may be? Name the price that you put your prayers at! MRS. CRUNCHER. [Who is busily putting the finishing touches to the breakfast] They only come from the heart, Jerry. They are worth no more than that. MR. CRUNCHER. Worth no more than that! They ain't worth much, then. Whether or no, I won't be prayed agin, I tell you. I can't afford it YOUNG JERRY. [As he sees his mother stoop to pick up a a knife which she had dropped] You're going to flop, mother. Halloa, father! MR. CRUNCHER. [Still rubbing a boot, steps up to his wife] If you must go flopping yourself down, flop in favor of your husband and child, and not in opposition to 'em. MRS. CRUNCHER. I'm always in favor of my husband and child. Come now to breakfast. They all three sit down. Mrs. Cruncher bends silently over her plate for a second. MR. CRUNCHER. Now, Aggerawayter! What are you up to? At it agin? MRS. CRUNCHER. I was only asking a blessing. MR. CRUNCHER. Don't do it! I ain't a going to be blest out of house and home. I won't have my wittles blest off my table. Keep still! Mrs. Cruncher silently pours tea, passes it, and serves the rest of the meal. Mr. Cruncher continues talking. MR. CRUNCHER. If I had had any but a unnatʼral wife, and this poor boy had had any but a unnat 'ral mother, I might have made some money last week, instead of being counter-prayed and counter-ruined and religiously circumwented into the worst of luck. YOUNG JERRY. Yes, mother, he might have made some money last week if you hadn't always been a-flopping. MRS. CRUNCHER. O, Jerry, my boy. You too! MR. CRUNCHER. [Addressing his wife] I tell you, I won't be gone agin in this manner. I am as rickety as a hackney-coach, I'm as sleepy as laudanum, my lines is strained to that degree that I shouldn't know, if it wasn't for the pain in 'em which was me and which somebody else, yet I'm none the better for it in pocket; and it's my suspicion that you've been at it from morning to night to prevent me from being the better for it in pocket, and I won't put up with it, Aggerawayter, and what do you say now! MRS. CRUNCHER. I try to be a good wife, Jerry. MR. CRUNCHER. Is it being a good wife to oppose your husband's business? Is it honoring your husband to dishonor his business? Is it obeying your husband to disobey him on the wital subject of his business? MRS. CRUNCHER. You hadn't taken to the dreadful business when I married you, Jerry. MR. CRUNCHER. It's enough for you, to be the wife of a honest tradesman, and not to occupy your female mind with calculations when he took to his trade or when he |