Part 11 (1/2)
On Christmas night the aristocracy of the Cabbage Patch a.s.sembled in the school-house to enjoy the double attraction of a Christmas tree and an entertainment. Mr. Rothchild, who had arranged the tree for the last ten years, refused to have it moved from its accustomed place, which was almost in the center of the platform. He had been earnestly remonstrated with, but he and the tree remained firm. Mrs. Rothchild and all the little Rothchildren had climbed in by the window before the doors were open in order to secure the front seats. Immediately behind them sat the Hazys and the Wiggses.
”That there is the seminary student gittin' up now,” whispered Mrs.
Wiggs. ”He's goin' to call out the pieces. My land! ain't he washed out? Looks like he'd go into a trance fer fifty cents. Hush, Australia! don't you see he is goin' to pray?”
After the opening prayer, the young preacher suggested that, as long as the speakers were not quite ready, the audience should ”raise a hymn.”
”He's got a fine voice,” whispered Miss Hazy; ”I heared 'em say he was the gentleman soprano at a down-town church.”
When the religious exercises were completed, the audience settled into a state of pleasurable antic.i.p.ation.
”The first feature of the entertainment,” announced the preacher, ”will be a song by Miss Europena Wiggs.”
[Ill.u.s.tration: ”Europena stepped forward.”]
Europena stepped forward and, with hands close to her sides and anguished eyes on the ceiling, gasped forth the agonized query:
”Can she make a cheery-pie, Billy boy, Billy boy?
Can she make a cheery-pie, Charming Billy?”
Notwithstanding the fact that there were eight verses, an encore was demanded. Mrs. Wiggs rose in her seat and beckoned vehemently to Europena. ”Come on back!” she motioned violently with her lips. ”They want you to come back.”
Europena, in a state of utter bewilderment, returned to the stage.
”Say another speech!” whispered Mrs. Wiggs, leaning over so far that she knocked Mrs. Rothchild's bonnet awry. Still Europena stood there, an evident victim of lockjaw.
”'I have a little finger,'” prompted her mother frantically from the second row front.
A single ray of intelligence flickered for a moment over the child's face, and with a supreme effort she said:
”I have a little finger, An' I have a little beau; When I get a little bigger I'll have a little toe.”
”Well, she got it all in,” said Mrs. Wiggs, in a relieved tone, as Europena was lifted down.
After this, other little girls came forward and made some unintelligible remarks concerning Santa Claus. It was with some difficulty that they went through their parts, for Mr. Rothchild kept getting in the way as he calmly and uncompromisingly continued to hang cornucopias on the tree. Songs and recitations followed, but even the youngest spectator realized that these were only preliminary skirmishes.
At last a bell rang. Two bedspreads. which served as curtains were majestically withdrawn. A sigh of admiration swept the room. ”Ain't he cute!” whispered a girl in the rear, as Billy rose resplendent in pink tights and crimson doublet, and folding his arms high on his breast, recited in a deep voice:
”I have, alas! philosophy, Medicine, jurisprudence too, And, to my cost, theology With ardent labor studied through.”
”I don't see no sense in what he's sayin' at all,” whispered Miss Hazy.
”It's jes what was in the book,” answered Mrs. Wiggs, ”'cause I heared him repeat it off before supper.”
The entrance of Jake awakened the flagging interest. n.o.body understood what he said either, but he made horrible faces, and waved his red arms, and caused a pleasant diversion.
”Maw, what's John Bagby a-handin' round in that little saucer?” asked Australia.
”Fer the mercy sake! I don't know,” answered her mother, craning her neck to see.
John, with creaking footsteps, tiptoed to the front of the stage, and stooping down, began to mix a concoction in a plate. Many stood up to see what he was doing, and conjecture was rife. _Mephisto_ and _Faust_ were forgotten until Jake struck a heroic pose, and grasping Billy's arm, said hoa.r.s.ely: