[The drawing-room of Mr. Sylvanus Potts Thompson, banker. Mr. Thompson and his wife, with ten guests, making a neat round dozen in all, are waiting the announcement of dinner. Enter Mr. Sylvanus Potts, a wealthy uncle from the country.]

Mr. Potts. I told the man there was no need to announce me; you knew I was coming next week, and a few days don’t matter. How do you do, nephew? how do you do, Jane?

Mr. Thompson. Why, uncle, we did not expect you so soon, but we are always glad to see you, of course.

Mrs. Thompson. Yes, always, dear Uncle Sylvanus. How is everybody at home?

Mr. P. Oh, they’re all well; you seem to be having a party, nephew?

Mr. T. Only a few friends to dinner. Let me introduce you.

[He takes him on his arm and presents him to his guests. While this is being done, a sentimental, elderly young woman, with thin curls, after whispering impressively with her neighbor, glides up to the hostess, and holds a moment’s conversation with that lady. Mrs. Thompson turns pale, and seems engaged in a mental calculation. Then she starts quickly toward her husband and draws him aside]

Mrs. T. Sylvanus, do you know how many people there are in this room?

Mr. T. Oh, about a dozen, I suppose.

Mrs. T. About a dozen! There are thirteen, Sylvanus, thirteen!

Mr. T. Well, what of it?

Mrs. T. What of it! Why, we can’t sit down to dinner with thirteen at table. Maria Smith says she should have a fit.

Mr. T. But she wouldn’t, my dear; she’s too fond of her dinner.

Mrs. T. Mr. Thompson, is it kind to speak so of my most particular friend?

Mr. T. But what does Maria expect us to do about it? Turn Uncle Sylvanus out of the house? Wasn’t I named for him, and haven’t I always been his favorite? Do you want me to be left out of his will?

Mrs. T. But something must be done. Don’t you see everybody is whispering and counting? Can’t we get somebody else?

Servant (who has entered unperceived). There is a man downstairs, sir, wants you to sign something.

Mr. T. Ah, my dear, here’s the very man,—young Jones. He’s our new cashier, and a very clever fellow.

[Exit Mr. Thompson. During his absence Mrs. Thompson communicates to Miss Smith the solution of the difficulty at which they have arrived. Everybody has soon heard of it, so that on Mr. Thompson’s return with Mr. Jones, the pair are greeted with much joking about the ill-luck which is thus averted. The necessary introductions take place.]

Mr. Jones. I am sure I am rejoiced at being instrumental in bringing good luck.

Miss Smith. You can certainly see how welcome you are, Mr. Jones.

Mr. J. But I fear it is not for myself, Miss Smith.

Miss S. That will undoubtedly come later, when we know you better.

Mr. P. I am glad you found somebody, nephew; for I must say I never would have given up my dinner for a foolish superstition; and as I came last and uninvited—

Mrs. T. (relieved of her fears and remembering the will) You are always invited to this house, Uncle Potts; and we would never hear of your going away.

Mr. Robinson. Well, it is all very well to call it a superstition, you know; but I knew—

[Mr. Robinson proceeds to narrate a grewsome and melancholy tale, in which disaster and death resulted from the imprudence of sitting down with thirteen at table; half a dozen other guests begin simultaneously the relation of six more equally or even more grewsome and melancholy tales upon the same subject, when they are interrupted by the arrival of a note for Mr. Robinson.]

Mr. R. My dear Mrs. Thompson, I am so sorry, but my brother has telegraphed for me to come to him at once on a matter of the utmost importance. I regret—

Mrs. T. But Mr. Robinson, don’t you see that—

Servant. Dinner is served.

Mr. T. May I have the honor, Mrs. Brown?

Miss S. But we can’t go to dinner now. Mr. Robinson is called away, and that leaves us thirteen again.

[An awful hush ensues, during which Mr. Robinson, finding himself regarded as a criminal, suddenly slips away, leaving the company to extricate themselves from their trying situation as best they can. The hush is followed by a Babel of voices, in which all sorts of suggestions are made.]

Mr. J. (with heroic and renunciatory self-denial) Let me speak, please, Mrs. Thompson. It was very kind in your husband to invite me to remain to dinner, but now that I shall be the thirteenth, I am sure you’ll excuse me.

Mr. T. But it seems so inhospitable.

Mrs. T. But it is more generous to deprive ourselves of Mr. Jones’s company than to be the means of bringing ill-luck upon him.

Mr. J. Quite right. I bid you good evening, Mrs. Thompson. I sincerely hope nothing further will occur to mar the pleasure of your evening.

[Mr. Jones having retired, a move is at once made toward the dining-room, but just as Mr. Thompson and Mrs. Brown reach the drawing-room door, they are confronted by Mr. Robinson, who comes in breathless but triumphant.]

Mr. R. I thought it was so unkind of me to throw all your arrangements into confusion after the ill-luck of numbers you have already had, that I concluded to telegraph to my brother instead of going. Phew! How I have hurried! I am glad I am in time.

Mrs. Brown. Mr. Thompson, I positively cannot sit down at table with thirteen. My aunt died of it, and my second cousin. I am positive it runs in the family, and I know I should be the one to bear the consequence if we had thirteen at any table where I sat down.

[The greatest confusion follows. Miss Maria Smith is heard to declare that “Fate takes delight in persecuting her!” while young Algernon White mumbles something which has a distinct flavor of the Apostles’ Creed. Mr. Robinson shows a disposition to consider himself a most ill-used individual, thus to be rewarded for the trouble he has taken.]

Mr. T. My dear, what shall we do now?

Mrs. T. There is only one thing that I can think of; we can send across the street for Widow Ellis. You might go yourself and explain to her how it is.

[This suggestion being acted upon, the company settles into a solemn gloom, pending the return of the host with Widow Ellis. Every one knows the dinner will be spoiled, none being more acutely conscious of that fact than the hostess, and every one is nearly perishing with hunger. More grewsome and melancholy stories are told, but in a wavering and subdued manner, as if they are being offered as excuses for resisting the cravings of appetite, which are rapidly becoming insupportable. Young White is heard to mutter, with fresh suspicions of theological terms, that one might as well die of thirteen at table as of starvation, and that for his part he prefers the former method of extinction. The return of Mr. Thompson with the Widow Ellis awakens some feeble enthusiasm, but it is evident that nothing short of a substantial dinner can restore the spirits of the company.]

Mr. P. Well, nephew, now I hope we may have some dinner. I, for one, am faint with hunger.

Mr. T. Oh, immediately. Mrs. Brown, we—

[At this juncture poor Mrs. Thompson, overcome with anxiety, fatigue, and hunger, produces a diversion by falling in a dead faint. The shrieks of Miss Maria Smith are re-enforced by those of other ladies of the company, and it is to be feared that Mr. Algernon White no longer enjoys the exclusive privilege of indulging in ecclesiastical references. The excitement usual upon such occasions reigns, and when at length Mrs. Thompson is restored to consciousness, but is found to be too ill to stand, and is borne off to her chamber, the company, once more reduced to thirteen, distributes itself in a stricken and overwhelmed state about the drawing-room, with the air of having ceased to struggle against an adverse fate.]

Widow E. We are thirteen again, neighbor; and if you’ll excuse me—

Mr. P. Thirteen or no thirteen, nephew, I’m going to have something to eat if it’s in this house.

[He disappears toward the dining-room, and as the resolution of Widow Ellis seems to have solved once more the dreadful conundrum of the fated number, the company hastily follow, too nearly famished to notice that the lady does not carry out her apparent intention of returning home, so that after all they sit down thirteen at table.]

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