Tit.

Come, my lord; and in our flight,
Tell me how it came this night,
That I sleeping here was found
With these mortals on the ground.

Curtain.

COSTUMES.

BOTTOM.-Flesh-colored arms and legs; brown shirt; ass's head. OBERON.-Flesh-colored arms and legs; white shirt, richly

spangled; blue gauze drapery spangled; jeweled headdress, and belt; rich sandals.

TITANIA.-Blue gauze dress, with silver-spangled trimming; blue gauze robe, spangled; jeweled coronet; sandals. PUCK.-White muslin shirt, trimmed with silver; flesh-colored arms and legs; silvered sandals; silver-flowered headdress; gauze and silver wings.

FAIRIES.-White muslin dresses, with gauze draperies, trimmed with silver spangles; wings; wands.

REMARKS AND SUGGESTIONS.

For the title and arrangement of this little play, the editor is indebted to Leigh Hunt's Selections from the English Poets. Nothing can exceed the poetic beauty of the fairy speeches, particularly those of Oberon and Titania. They should be studied with critical attention, and rendered in a manner worthy of their wonderful grace and sweetness. To mar such language in the delivery is a high crime against Poesie.

The instrumental accompaniments required in the play may be selected from Mendelssohn's celebrated music to A Midsummer Night's Dream. The vocal music of Shakespeare's plays, with

piano-forte accompaniment, is published by Samuel French, 122 Nassau Street, New York.

In painting the forest scene, the artist would do well to put in a good deal of foliage, bushes, etc. The ass's head can be bought or hired in any city, at the masquerade stores, or at the theaters. The characters on the stage, at the close of the last scene, should take such positions as to form a picturesque group, which may be illuminated just before the curtain falls.

A. A. 4.

MRS. WILLIS'S WILL.

A Comic Drama.

From Lacy's Home Plays for Ladies.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

MRS. ROBINSON, aged forty, Mrs. Willis's executrix.
LADY SPINDLE, aged forty, absurdly haughty and dignified.
Mrs. Dwindle, aged thirty, a poetess and lady of fashion.
JENNY, aged eighteen, a farm servant.

RACHEL, aged fifty, Mrs. Robinson's servant.

SCENE: The general chamber of an old farm-house, plainly but comfortably furnished; door of entrance, c.; doors, L. 2 E. and L. 1 E.; door, R. 1 E.; L. C., against the scene, a writing table; a table, R. C., with a desk on it; a bureau, R., on which is a large looking-glass; arm chairs, easy chairs, etc.; MRS. ROBINSON at writing table; RACHEL closing the bureau drawers.

Mrs. R. And those are the last, Rachel? Rachel. Yes, ma'am, the inventory of all the poor, dear, dead lady's property is now complete, and the heirs may come as soon as they please.

Mrs. R. [Rising] As testamentary executrix, I have written to them, and believe they will be here this very day.

Rachel. While poor Mrs. Willis was alive nobody came near her, and you would have supposed that she had not a relation in the world: but no sooner is she dead, than they spring up like mushrooms.

Mrs. R. Easily accounted for. She was of humble origin, and her relatives, while she lived, were ashamed of her; but they are not too proud to inherit her property. The connections of Mr. Willis were always of opinion that he had degraded himself and them by marrying a mere peasant.

Rachel. It was just the case with my poor, dead husband, who was a drum-major in the 99th. But are these relatives of Mr. Willis such very great people?

Mrs. R. [L. Smiling] for yourself presently. Lady Spindle.

You will be able to judge
In the first place, there is

Rachel. Oh, I know! she has a fine mansion in London, and a rickety old house in the country somewhere.

Mrs. R. And gained her title through her marriage with a rickety old lord. Then there is Mrs. Dwindle, a London fine lady, who sports an abundance of crinoline, and writes nonsensical verses.

Rachel. That's just like the man that played the trombone in the 99th-the verses, I mean, not the crinoline.

Mrs. R. [Laughing] Always some reminiscence of your husband's regiment-but I have a few matters to attend to. Make haste, Rachel, and finish putting the room in order. [Exit, door L. 2 E. Rachel. [Arranging and dusting chairs, etc.] Ah, she is a good creature; the best woman I have ever known, except my poor Peter-no I don't mean that poor Peter was n't a woman, but he was the best

[JENNY appears, at door c., and remains timidly. Jenny. If you please, misses, does n't my godmother live here?

Rachel. Your godmother, child! how should I know anything about your godmother?

Jenny. She was once a drum-major.

Rachel. What? You mean she married a drum

Rachel. Oh, then it 's me you are looking for. Jenny. [Coming forward] You-you are Mrs. Blustrus?

Rachel. Yes, but surely you can't be

Jenny. Yes, I am; I'm Jenny Roberts, the daughter of Martha Roberts, who was the wife of Thomas Roberts.

Rachel. My goddaughter?

Jenny. Yes, that I really am-will you let me kiss you, godmother? I have washed my face.