“The Orpheus Gleemen’s hour will conclude,” said the announcer, “with
what we hope will prove a pleasing novelty to our audience. Miss Dora
Perkins, our artist-accompanist, already famous as a virtuoso, will
render the incomparable ‘_Liebestraum_’ of the Hungarian genius, Franz
Liszt, as a piano solo, while the Orpheus Gleemen will sing a vocal
accompaniment with words especially adapted to the number. We present
Miss Perkins.”
“Wow!” cried Ralph. “Has Dora got that announcer by the nose? Or would
it be the manager? She’s leading ’em around on a leash and they’re
jumping through hoops for ’er! Get that? The quartet is accompanying the
piano! The tail is wagging Fido!”
“She played it admirably, really!” remarked Mrs. Tredmore at the end of
the solo. “We should be very proud of our artists.”
“This concludes the hour of the Orpheus Gleemen,” said the announcer,
“and we hope you have enjoyed it, ladies and gentlemen of the radio
audience. Our friends, the Gleemen, are always delighted and encouraged
by your letters, and I’m sure that Miss Perkins—Miss Dora Perkins,
remember!—would be highly gratified if you would express your opinions
of her work.
“We cannot hear your applause, you know, and the mail brings us the only
assurance of your approval. If you desire to write to Miss Perkins
personally, you may address your letters to her, in care of Station WXL,
Port Cardinal, and I’m sure she will be pleased and gratified.”
“Who is that guy?” growled Ralph. “That’s a different voice; ’tisn’t the
regular announcer.”
“Please stand by for your station announcement,” the voice went on. “You
are listening to the program of Station WXL, Port Cardinal, owned and
operated by the Port Cardinal Electrical Power and Equipment
Corporation.
“This is my first broadcast as your announcer, dear friends, and I’ll
admit that I’m a bit nervous this evening, but I shall strive to do
better and aim to give you service and satisfaction. This is Douglas
Raymond speaking. Thank you for your attention. We now continue the
program from New York City.”
“Heck!” grunted Ralph, quite flabbergasted.
“Delightful!” purred Miss Bascom. “And he did so well, didn’t he? But
how extraordinary that none of us suspected it! It didn’t sound like his
voice, and it wasn’t his usual manner of speaking, was it?”
[Illustration: portrait of Hubert Quirk]
“He was high-hatting the radio audience, that’s why,” Hubert Quirk
informed her.
“The pulpit or platform orator,” explained Dr. Hillary, “has his special
diction and manner for the public, often rather sharply differentiated
from his everyday speech and manner. I think that Mr. Raymond did
remarkably well, for a young man, and without much experience of the
sort.”
“Hey, Kitty! Kitty Granby! Come out o’ that book,” called Ralph
insistently. “Mean to say you didn’t hear anything? It was Doug Raymond
announcing. He’s the radio announcer at WXL now. Get that?”
Kitty laid down her magazine and raised her head, with a little bored
expression. She glanced superciliously at Ralph, and met the stares of
the others without flinching.
“I heard it all,” she said calmly. “I recognized Mr. Raymond’s voice the
first time he spoke.”
“My eye! Oh, well, she _would_, I reckon!” exclaimed Ralph. “But say,
folks! Has that kid fallen hard for dazzling Dora? I’m here to broadcast
to the world he has! Or she’s got her lily fingers twisted into his
curly hair and is holding his nose right up to the microphone.
“Hereafter it’ll be the Dora Perkins hour, with the Orpheus kids on the
side. It’s Broadway or Hollywood for darling Dora, or bust!—bust
somebody else!”