CHAPTER XI

THE CHRISTMAS PLAY

"Not failure, but low aim, is crime."

As the holiday season approached, a rumor began to be circulated that

the Cabbage Patch Sunday-school would have an entertainment as well as

a Christmas tree. The instigator of this new movement was Jake

Schultz, whose histrionic ambition had been fired during his

apprenticeship as "super" at the opera-house.

"I know a man what rents costumes, an' the promp'-books to go with

'em," he said to several of the boys one Sunday afternoon. "If we all

chip in we kin raise the price, an' git it back easy by chargin'

admittance."

"Aw, shucks!" said Chris. "We don't know nothin' 'bout play-actin'."

"We kin learn all right," said Billy Wiggs. "I bid to be the feller

that acts on the trapeze."

The other boys approving of the plan, it was agreed that Jake should

call on the costumer at his earliest convenience.

One night a week later Lovey Mary was getting supper when she heard an

imperative rap on the door. It was Jake Schultz. He mysteriously

beckoned her out on the steps, and closed the door behind them.

"Have you ever acted any?" he asked.

"I used to say pieces at the home," said Lovey Mary, forgetting

herself.

"Well, do you think you could take leadin' lady in the entertainment?"

[Illustration: "'Have you ever acted any?' he asked."]

Lovey Mary had no idea what the lady was expected to lead, but she

knew that she was being honored, and she was thrilled at the prospect.

"I know some arm-exercises, and I could sing for them," she offered.

"Oh, no," explained Jake; "it's a play, a reg'lar theayter play. I got

the book and the costumes down on Market street. The man didn't have

but this one set of costumes on hand, so I didn't have no choice. It's

a bully play, all right, though! I seen it oncet, an' I know how it

all ought to go. It's named 'Forst,' er somethin' like that. I'm goin'

to be the devil, an' wear a red suit, an' have my face all streaked

up. Billy he's goin' to be the other feller what's stuck on the girl.

He tole me to ast you to be her. Your dress is white with cords an'

tassels on it, an' the sleeves ain't sewed up. Reckon you could learn

the part? We ain't goin' to give it all."

"I can learn anything!" cried Lovey Mary, recklessly. "Already know

the alphabet and the Lord's Prayer backward. Is the dress short-

sleeve? And does it drag in the back when you walk?"

"Yep," said Jake, "an' the man said you was to plait your hair in two

parts an' let 'em hang over your shoulders. I don't see why it

wouldn't be pretty for you to sing somethin', too. Ever'body is so

stuck on yer singin'."

"All right," said Lovey Mary, enthusiastically; "you bring the book

over and show me where my part's at. And, Jake," she called as he

started off, "you tell Billy I'll be glad to."

For the next ten days Lovey Mary dwelt in Elysium. The prompt-book,

the rehearsals, the consultations, filled the spare moments and threw

a glamour over the busy ones. Jake, with his vast experience and

unlimited knowledge of stage-craft, appealed to her in everything. He

sat on a barrel and told how they did things "up to the opery-house,"

and Lovey Mary, seizing his suggestions with burning zeal, refitted

the costumes, constructed scenery, hammered her own nails as well as

the iron ones, and finally succeeded in putting into practice his

rather vague theories. For the first time in her life she was a person

of importance.

Besides her numerous other duties she prepared an elaborate costume

for Tommy. This had caused her some trouble, for Miss Hazy, who was

sent to buy the goods for the trousers, exercised unwise economy in

buying two remnants which did not match in color or pattern.

"Why didn't you put your mind on it, Miss Hazy?" asked Lovey Mary,

making a heroic effort to keep her temper. "You might have known I

couldn't take Tommy to the show with one blue leg and one brown one.

What must I do?"

Miss Hazy sat dejectedly in the corner, wiping her eyes on her apron.

"You might go ast Mis' Wiggs," she suggested as a forlorn hope.

When Mrs. Wiggs was told the trouble she smiled reassuringly.

Emergencies were to her the spice of life; they furnished

opportunities for the expression of her genius.

"Hush cryin', Miss Hazy; there ain't a speck of harm did. Mary kin

make the front outen one piece an' the back outen the other. Nobody

won't never know the difference, 'cause Tommy can't be goin' an'

comin' at the same time."

The result was highly satisfactory, that is, to everybody but Tommy.

He complained that there "wasn't no room to set down."

On Christmas night the aristocracy of the Cabbage Patch assembled 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 anticipation.

"The first feature of the entertainment," announced the preacher,

"will be a song by Miss Europena Wiggs."

[Illustration: "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. Nobody 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 hoarsely:

"Gaze, Faustis, gaze into pairdition!"

John put a match to the powder, a bright red light filled the room,

and the audience, following the index-finger of the impassioned

_Mephisto_, gazed into the placid, stupid faces of four meek little

boys on the mourners' bench.

[Illustration: "Sang in a high, sweet voice, 'I Need Thee Every

Hour'"]

Before the violent coughing caused by the calcium fumes had ceased, a

vision in white squeezed past Mr. Rothchild and came slowly down to

the edge of the platform. It was Lovey Mary as _Marguerite_. Her long

dress swept about her feet, her heavy hair hung in thick braids over

both shoulders, and a burning red spot glowed on each cheek. For a

moment she stood as Jake had directed, with head thrown back and eyes

cast heavenward, then she began to recite. The words poured from her

lips with a volubility that would have shamed an auctioneer. It was a

long part, full of hard words, but she knew it perfectly and was

determined to show how fast she could say it without making a mistake.

It was only when she finished that she paused for breath. Then she

turned slowly, and stretching forth appealing arms to _Faust_, sang in

a high, sweet voice, "I Need Thee Every Hour."

The effect was electrical. At last the Cabbage Patch understood what

was going on. The roof rang with applause. Even Mr. Rothchild held

aside his strings of pop-corn to let _Marguerite_ pass out.

"S' more! S' more!" was the cry. "Sing it ag'in!"

Jake stepped before the curtain. "If our friends is willin'," he said,

"we'll repeat over the last ak."

Again Lovey Mary scored a triumph. John Bagby burned the rest of the

calcium powder during the last verse, and the entertainment concluded

in a prolonged cheer.

Lovey Mary · 第 11 / 14 章