The daily morning journal and courier., 1897-11-06

Woods at about this point. In the previous scene, "a rocky pass at night music agitato," Ralph Stackpole defes the Spirit of the Waters in these words:
 "Ain't I the crittur to shake Old Salt by the forepaw? Amt the leaping trout of the waters? Can take angelif- erous madam down any chute as was ever seen, equal to a streak of light ming" ..........- At this point the scene changes to the Salt River with cataract in motion. It is moonlight, and there are Indians in great numbers along the shore, Ralph enters. He says: "Roll away, Old Salt. Don't mind the old fellow, splendiferous madam; thar's more in his bark than his bite. 'Tarnel death to me! he looks as sweet and as lickerish as whole trough of sugar trees. We will just take dip at him to wash the mud off our shoes, and then we'll say farewell to Old Salt and the aborigines together"
 At this point loud yells and outcries, Indian warwhoops and threats are heard, and the Indians rush on the stage seizing all characters, the villain of the piece grasping the heroine by the waist and shouting:
 "Now, Edith Forester, thou art wholly mine."
 She is not wholly his nor even partly his, for her ungrammatical escort, Ralph Stackpole, meets the emergency | in these words:
 "Grim death and massacreation! 0 you perdition brutes! Let me loose, ,1 ,,t,rr tp1,
 nation death to me, I'll haunt you when I'm dead and eat you all, from a smoke dried varmint skurmudgeon to a squally balbby. pappoose." | This wild but ungrammatical threat | has no effect upon the Indians, and the | redskins are about to carry off their victims when a noise is heard in the | back of the stage, and MT. Proctor, | robed in white, is seen, on a log coming | down Salt River. He was appearing as | the Spirit of the Waters. The villain | exclaims: Man or devil, phantom or | fiend, wherefore do you come and who
 are you?"
 | At this point the log, with the Spirit | of the Waters upon it, is precipitated | over the cataract, and the Indians, all | uttering a yell of terror, fall upon their | faces with many outcries, enabling the | prisoners to make their escape | As may be observed from these cpl | sodes, the play of Nick of the Woods | was what would be called in these days ''hot stuff,' and it is a remarkable fact | that while each of the three acts of the | piece ends with some fierce and desper- ate catastrophe, each act opens with a cheerful and almost idyllic poetic stan ga. In the first act, for instance (scene, forest glade, with cattle grazing and the immigrants, male and female sing ing at sunset), these are the predatory words:
 Wanderers from our native heath, Exiles from our homes of birth, Weary, faint and wasted, we With joy our place of refuge see.
 The second act, which ends so abom- inably with the Indians grouped about Salt River, opens at clearing at Brucetown, Miss. (tine sunrise), and the immigrants, while getting ready to depart, sing:
 Away, away, 'tis break of day, In the east the sun is dawning; With speed and care our march pre- r pare,
 | In the pleasant morning. The end of the second act of Nick of ! the Woods has been given above, and
 the end of the first act is, perhaps, l equally worthy of mention. It took , place at stockade fort, and the hero- 1 inc, seeing Indians in the distance,
 shouts:
 Hold, murderous villains! Richard
 BraXley forbear".
 Richard Braxley, however, does not
 forbear He says, "Ha! What med
 ding intruder's this?" He summons the Indians. The redskin chief, Paankes-
 haw, exclaims:
 White man think-red man do?
 knife asleep Red man come softly as
 the creeping panther"
 It is at this point that Bloody Ma
 than, impersonated by MT. Proctor
 made his appearance, and in the follow
 ing rather crude language addressed | him:
 Dog of an Indian, redskin, red wolf,
 die! Murdering coward, die mur- derefss death. Remember Bloody Ma
 than the avenger."
 He puts upon the body of the Indian
 upon the Indians breast, the cross
 mark of his knife, somewhat in the
 manner of Jack the Ripper in modern days, and Colonel Bruce, one of the i'm | migrants, eXclaims:
 What's here! The mark of the Jib
 benainosay upon the breast of the blacl
 vulture! In the name of heaven, Wht
 has done this deed?'
 Meanwhile terrific storm comes up
 thunder and lightning, and the Indians
 flee in all directions to slow music
 leaving the stage "a picture of hor
 ror.''
 Bloody Nathan is not presented at tn