out in British uniform till Washington’s august legs were hidden by
the heaps of arms rattled down before him. The martial music, the
steady tramp, and the patriotic memories awakened, caused this
scene to be enthusiastically encored, and the boys would have
gone on marching till midnight if Ralph had not peremptorily
ordered down the curtain and cleared the stage for the next
tableau.
This had been artfully slipped in between two brilliant ones, to
show that the Father of his Country had to pay a high price for his
glory. The darkened stage represented what seemed to be
Aims again the fatal blow,
Aims at thee the fatal blow.
“Virgins fair and matrons grave,
Those thy conquering arm did save,
Build for thee triumphal bowers;
Strew, ye fair, his way with flowers,
Strew your hero’s -way with flowers.”
And they did, singing with all their hearts as they flung artificial
roses and lilies at the feet of the great men, who bowed with
benign grace. Jack, who did Lafayette with a limp, covered himself
with glory by picking up one of the bouquets and pressing it to his
heart with all the gallantry of a Frenchman; and when Washington
lifted the smallest of the maids and kissed her, the audience
cheered. Couldn’t help it, you know, it was so pretty and inspiring.
The Washington Family, after the famous picture, came next, with
Annette as the serene and sensible Martha, in a very becoming cap.
The General was in uniform, there being no time to change, but his
attitude was quite correct, and the Custis boy and girl displayed the
wide sash and ruffled collar with historic fidelity. The band played
“Home,” and everyone agreed that it was “Sweet!”
“Now I don’t see what more they can have except the deathbed,
and that would be rather out of place in this gay company,” said
the old gentleman to Mr. Burton, as he mopped his heated face
after pounding so heartily he nearly knocked the ferule off his
cane.
“No; they gave that up, for my boy wouldn’t wear a night-gown in
public. I can’t tell secrets, but I think they have got a very clever
little finale for the first part–a pretty compliment to one person
and a pleasant surprise to all,” answered Mr. Burton, who was in
great spirits, being fond of theatricals and very justly proud of his
children, for the little girls had been among the Trenton maids, and
the mimic General had kissed his own small sister, Nelly, very
tenderly.
A great deal of interest was felt as to what this surprise was to be,
and a general “Oh!” greeted the “Minute Man,” standing
motionless upon his pedestal. It was Frank, and Ralph had done his
best to have the figure as perfect as possible, for the maker of the
original had been a good friend to him; and, while the young
sculptor was dancing gayly at the ball, this copy of his work was
doing him honor among the children. Frank looked it very well, for
his firm-set mouth was full of resolution, his eyes shone keen and
courageous under the three-cornered hat, and the muscles stood
out upon the bare arm that clutched the old gun. Even the buttons
on the gaiters seemed to flash defiance, as the sturdy legs took the
first step from the furrow toward the bridge where the young
farmer became a hero when he “fired the shot heard ’round the
world.”
“That is splendid!” “As like to the original as flesh can be to
bronze.” “How still he stands!” “He’ll fight when the time comes,
and die hard, won’t he?” “Hush! You make the statue blush!” These
very audible remarks certainly did, for the color rose visibly as the
modest lad heard himself praised, though he saw but one face in
all the crowd, his mother’s, far back, but full of love and pride, as
she looked up at her young minute man waiting for the battle
which often calls us when we least expect it, and for which she
had done her best to make him ready.
If there had been any danger of Frank being puffed up by the