success of his statue, it was counteracted by irrepressible Grif,
who, just at the most interesting moment, when all were gazing
silently, gave a whistle, followed by a “Choo, choo, choo!” and
“All aboard!” so naturally that no one could mistake the joke,
especially as another laughing voice added, “Now, then, No. 11!”
which brought down the house and the curtain too.
Frank was so angry, it was very difficult to keep him on his perch
for the last scene of all. He submitted, however, rather than spoil
the grand finale, hoping that its beauty would efface that ill-timed
pleasantry from the public mind. So, when the agreeable clamor of
hands and voices called for a repetition, the Minute Man
reappeared, grimmer than before. But not alone, for grouped all
about his pedestal were Washington and his generals, the matrons
and maids, with a background of troops shouldering arms, Grif and
Joe doing such rash things with their muskets, that more than one
hero received a poke in his august back. Before the full richness of
this picture had been taken in, Ed gave a rap, and all burst out with
“Hail Columbia,” in such an inspiring style that it was impossible
for the audience to refrain from joining, which they did, all
standing and all singing with a heartiness that made the walls ring.
The fife shrilled, the horn blew sweet and clear, the fiddle was
nearly drowned by the energetic boom of the drum, and out into
the starry night, through open windows, rolled the song that stirs
the coldest heart with patriotic warmth and tunes every voice to
music.
“‘America!’ We must have ‘America!’ Pipe up, Ed, this is too good
to end without one song more,” cried Mr. Burton, who had been
singing like a trumpet; and, hardly waiting to get their breath, off
they all went again with the national hymn, singing as they never
had sung it before, for somehow the little scenes they had just
acted or beheld seemed to show how much this dear America of
ours had cost in more than one revolution, how full of courage,
energy, and virtue it was in spite of all its faults, and what a
privilege, as well as duty, it was for each to do his part toward its
safety and its honor in the present, as did those brave men and
women in the past.
So the “Scenes from the Life of Washington” were a great success,
and, when the songs were over, people were glad of a brief recess
while they had raptures, and refreshed themselves with lemonade.
The girls had kept the secret of who the “Princess” was to be, and,
when the curtain rose, a hum of surprise and pleasure greeted the
pretty group. Jill lay asleep in all her splendor, the bonny “Prince”
just lifting the veil to wake her with a kiss, and all about them the
court in its nap of a hundred years. The “King” and “Queen”
dozing comfortably on the throne; the maids of honor, like a
garland of nodding flowers, about the couch; the little page,
unconscious of the blow about to fall, and the fool dreaming, with
his mouth wide open.
It was so pretty, people did not tire of looking, till Jack’s lame leg
began to tremble, and he whispered: “Drop her or I shall pitch.”
Down went the curtain; but it rose in a moment, and there was the
court after the awakening: the “King” and “Queen” looking about
them with sleepy dignity, the maids in various attitudes of surprise,
the fool grinning from ear to ear, and the “Princess” holding out
her hand to the “Prince,” as if glad to welcome the right lover
when he came at last.
Molly got the laugh this time, for she could not resist giving poor
Boo the cuff which had been hanging over him so long. She gave it
with unconscious energy, and Boo cried “Ow!” so naturally that all
the children were delighted and wanted it repeated. But Boo
declined, and the scenes which followed were found quite as much
to their taste, having been expressly prepared for the little people.
Mother Goose’s Reception was really very funny, for Ralph was