THE BAZAAR
When she had talked it over with Momsy and Miss Seymour, however,
Jessie Norwood took up the thought of the radio lecture quite
seriously. Somebody must explain and manage the entertainment in the
radio tent, and who better than Jessie?
“It is quite wonderful how much you young people have learned about
radio—so much more than I had any idea,” said the school teacher. “Of
course you can write a little prose essay, Jessie, get it by heart,
and repeat it at each session in the tent, if you feel timid about
giving an off-hand talk on the subject.”
“You can do it if you only think you can, Jessie,” said her mother,
smiling. “I am sure I have a very smart daughter.”
“Oh, now, Momsy! If they should laugh at me——”
“Don’t give them a chance to laugh, dear. Make your talk so
interesting and informative that they can’t laugh.”
Thus encouraged, Jessie spent all the forenoon of the Fourth shut up
in her own room making ready for the afternoon and evening. She had
already made a careful schedule of the broadcasting done by all the
stations within reach of her fine radio set, and found that it was
possible, by tuning her instrument to the wave lengths of different
stations, to get something interesting into every hour from two
o’clock on until eleven.
Naturally, some of the entertainments would be more interesting or
amusing than others; but as New Melford people for the most part were
as yet unfamiliar with radio, almost anything out of the air would
seem curious and entertaining.
“Besides,” Burd Alling said in comment on this, “for a good cause we
are all ready and willing to be bunkoed a little.”
“Let me tell you, Mr. Smarty,” said Amy, “that Jessie’s lecture
is well worth the price of admission alone. Never mind the radio
entertainment.”
“I’ll come to hear it every time,” agreed Burd. “You can’t scare me!”
The radio had been carefully tried out in the tent the evening
before. The boys had got the market reports and the early baseball
scores out of the air on Fourth of July morning, before the bazaar
opened. When Jesse came out after luncheon to take charge of the
radio tent, she felt that she was letter perfect in the “talk” she
had arranged to introduce each session of the wireless entertainment.
No admission was charged to the Norwood grounds; but several of the
older boys had been instructed to keep an oversight of the entire
place that careless and possibly rough youngsters should do no harm.
The Norwoods’, like the Drews’, was one of the show places of the
Roselawn section of New Melford. Boys and girls might do considerable
harm around the place if they were not under discipline.
The girls and boys belonging to the congregation of Dr. Stanley’s
church were on hand as flower sellers, booth attendants, and
waitresses. Ice-creams and sherbets were served from the garage;
sandwiches and cake from the house kitchen, where Mrs. Norwood’s cook
herself presided proudly over the goodies.
In several booths were orangeade, lemonade, and other soft drinks.
The fancy costumes and the funny masks the girls and boys wore
certainly were “fetching.” That the masks were the result of a joke
on Chip Truro’s part made them none the less effective.
Amy was flying about, as busy as a bee. Darry and Burd were at the
head of the “police.” Miss Seymour took tickets for the radio tent,
and after the first entertainment, beginning at two o’clock, she
complimented Jessie warmly on the success of her talk on radio with
which the girl introduced the show.
The lawns of the Norwood place began to be crowded before two
o’clock. Cars were parked for several blocks in both directions.
Special policemen had been sent out from town to patrol the vicinity.
Dr. Stanley’s smile, as he walked about welcoming the guests,
expanded to an almost unbelievable breadth.
The noisy and explosive Fourth as it used to be is now scarcely
known. Our forefathers did not realize that freedom could be
celebrated without guns and firecrackers and the more or less smelly
and dangerous burning of powder.
“Now,” stated Burd Alling pompously, “we celebrate the name of the
Father of his Country with a dish of fruit ice-cream. How are the
mighty fallen! A George Washington sundae, please, with plenty of
‘sundae’ on it. Thank you!”
Then he gave up twice the price that he would have had to pay at the
Dainties Shop down town for the same concoction to the young lady in
the Columbine skirt and the mask.
“Young Truro had it right,” grumbled Darry. “It’s a hold-up.”
“But you know you like to be robbed for a good cause,” chuckled Amy,
who chanced to hear these comments. “And remember that Doctor Stanley
is going to get his share out of this.”
“Right-o,” agreed Burd. “The doctor is all right.”
“But we ought to pony up the money for his support like good sports,”
said Darry, continuing to growl.
“You’d better ask him about that,” cried Amy. “Do you know what the
dear doctor says? He is glad, he says, to know that so many people
who never would by any chance come to hear him preach give something
to the support of the church. They are in touch with the church and
with him on an occasion like this, when by no other means could they
be made to interest themselves in our church save to look at the
clock face in the tower as they go past.”
“Guess he’s right there,” said Burd. “I reckon there are some men on
the boulevard whose only religious act is to set their watches by the
church clock as they ride by to town in their automobiles.”
However and whatever (to quote Amy again), the intentions were
that brought the crowd, the Norwood place was comfortably filled.
The goodies were bought, the sale of fancy goods added much to the
treasury, and a bigger thing than any other source of income was the
admission to the radio shows.
The children were not the most interested part of the audience in the
tent. From two o’clock until closing time Jessie Norwood presided at
eight shows. She sometimes faced almost the same audience twice. Not
only did some of the children pay their way in more than once, but
grown people did the same. Curiosity regarding radio science was rife.
Doctor Stanley came more than once himself to listen. And the
minister’s boys wanted to take the radio set all apart between shows
to “see how it went.”
“I bet we could build one our own selves,” declared Bob Stanley.
“I betcha!” agreed Fred.
“Only, it will cost a lot of money,” groaned the minister’s oldest
son.
“You can do it for about ten dollars—if you are ingenious,” said
Jessie encouragingly.
“Gee whiz! That’s a lot of money,” said Fred.
The girl knew better than to suggest lending them or giving them
the money. But she told them all the helpful things she could about
setting up the radio paraphernalia and rigging the wires.
“I guess Nell would help us,” Bob remarked. “She’s pretty good, you
know, for a girl.”
“I like that!” exclaimed Jessie.
Bob Stanley grinned at her impishly.
In the evening when the electric lights were ablaze the Norwood lawns
were a pretty sight indeed. People came in cars from miles away. It
was surprising how many came, it seemed, for the purpose of listening
to the radio. That feature had been well advertised, and it came at
a time when the popular curiosity was afire through reading so much
about radio in the newspapers.
Among the hundreds of cars parked near by were those of several of
the more prosperous farmers of the county. One ancient, baldheaded,
bewhiskered agriculturist sat through three of the radio shows, and
commented freely upon this new wonder of the world.
“The telegraph was just in its infancy when I was born,” he told
Jessie. “And then came the telephone, and these here automobiles, and
flying machines, and wireless telegraph, and now this. Why, ma’am,
this radio beats the world! It does, plumb, for sure!”
The surprise and the comments of the audience did not so much
interest Jessie Norwood as the fact that the money taken in by the
tent show would add vastly to the profit of the bazaar.
“You sure have beaten any other individual concession on the lot,”
Amy told her at the end of the evening. “You know, Belle Ringold
bragged that she was going to take in the most money at the orangeade
stand, because it was a hot night. But wait till we count up! I am
sure you have beaten her with the radio tent, Jess.”