COSTUMES
The characters wear suits made as nearly as possible in the style of seventy years ago. For hints as to proper styles consult pictures in old books—a brief description is, however, given.
The boys' trousers are long and loose; the jackets are short and tight-fitting, with small sleeves. The jackets are made open in front, and short, close-fitting vests, buttoning to the neck, are worn under them. White turn-over collars surmount the whole. These suits may be made of the cheapest material. Or, if preferred, the boys may be arrayed in blue overalls and "jumpers"; this will save much labor and inconvenience.
The girl wears a short, full-skirted gown of pink calico, the waist made plain, fitting closely and buttoning up the back. The hair should hang in two long braids, the ends tied together with a green ribbon.
SCENE
The stage is set to represent a schoolroom, with blackboards and maps on the walls, and cheap plain benches and desks in an orderly arrangement. A small pine table, on which are some books and a hand-bell, is in the center. Behind this table is an old-fashioned wooden chair for the teacher. Shabby and battered books are piled neatly on the various desks.
John (enters at right, comes to one of the desks, seats himself, and opens a book): Here is this miserable sum again. I suppose I've just got to get it done before the teacher comes; but I can't make head or tail of the thing. Let me see (reads): "If the half of four be three, what will three-fourths of twenty be?" (Closes book with a bang.) Was there ever any stuff like that? Everybody knows that half of four can't be three, so what's the use of wearing out a fellow's brains, 'specially when he's like me and hasn't any to spare, over a silly thing like that? O, gee, I believe I'll run away. I hate this school, school, all the time. If father would only let me stay at home and plough.
Thomas (enters at right): What's that, Jack? Didn't I hear you say something about ploughing?
John (rises and leaves desk, both boys come down): Yes, I was just wishing I could stay at home and plough instead of coming to school and worrying my head over fractions. I hate them.
Thomas (goes to another desk and takes up book): I don't mind fractions, but here's this awful geography lesson. Teacher said if I didn't have it this morning I'd have to stay in all the noon hour and learn it. What good will it ever do me, I'd like to know, to get the names of all these islands in my head? I don't mean to be a sailor, and if I should be I guess I'd learn the names of places fast enough when I came to them.
John (puts his hand on Thomas' shoulder): Say, Tom, let's run away where they can't make us go to school. We know enough now.
Thomas: So we do; we can write our names, and say the multiplication table. What more need a fellow know?