Jotham was very happy over his musical success, and with a beaming face he announced, "Our next tableau is a copy of the large photograph on the right wall called "The Broken Pitcher," by Greuze."
This time the curtain drew aside and there stood Randy, sweet Randy, as the demure little maid with the broken pitcher hanging to her wrist, her beautiful hair loosely bound, and her large gray eyes looking out at one for all the world like the Greuze model.
"Isn"t she lovely, mother?" said Jotham, who had stolen out in front of the frame in order to make sure of seeing this tableau.
"Well, I must say, she is," said Mrs. Potts. "She"s always a pretty girl, but I do declare to-night she"s nothin" short of handsome."
"So I say," said Jotham, and even Randy"s parents were surprised at her beauty. The tableau was recalled, and this time Randy blushed most becomingly because of the encore.
"Oh, do see my Randy!" called little Prue, who had been nodding when the tableau was first shown, and awoke with a start to see her dear Randy looking out from the frame.
"The next number will be a solo by Katie Buffum." Immediately wee Katie was in position. She was not diffident in the least, and clasping her chubby hands she at once piped up with cheery voice:-
"Once there was a little mouse No bigger than my fumb; He crept into my pocket, Where he hunted for a crumb.
"I put my finger in there, Just to see what there was in it; But the little mouse was naughty, And he bit me in a minute."
This solo, so cunningly sung by the pudgy little mite, "brought down the house," and little Katie and her family were delighted with the praise which she received. Still the little girl stood upon the platform until the audience began to think that she wished to sing another verse.
"Go on, Katie," called her brother Jack, "what yer waiting for?"
"I forgot somefin and I dunno what. Oh, yes, I do. It"s dis," and, making a comical little bow, this very conscientious little soloist left the platform, feeling that now her performance was complete.
Every one laughed and gave Katie more praise, and she curled up in her mother"s lap, feeling her wee self to be a very successful singer.
"We will now look at a tableau called "t.i.tian"s Daughter,"" announced Jotham.
Away flew the curtain and Jemima Babson stood in the fine pose, copying to perfection the engraving of that subject. Jemima was resplendent.
"Oh! oh!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed every one. A glint of bright light shone in her eyes. She had liked that picture better than any which Miss Dayton had shown the girls when they had called for the first rehearsal, and was delighted when Helen chose it for her tableau.
Next came her sister Belinda as the "Magdalene." Belinda always wore her yellow hair in braids, but to-night it shone like rippling gold over her shoulders. With her blue eyes uplifted, and the shimmering ma.s.s of yellow hair, who could believe that the "Magdalene" was Belinda Babson, the girl who climbed every apple tree in her father"s orchard, and laughed at chance pa.s.sers-by from the highest branches.
"A solo by Miss Dayton will close the entertainment."
Helen had sung at church with the congregation, but until to-night no one, not even Randy, had heard her sing a solo.
Ah, how sweet and clear sounded her voice as, looking across at old Sandy McLeod, she sang "The Bluebells of Scotland."
The proverbial pin could have been heard had it been dropped. As the last notes ceased, old Sandy arose, and, stoutly thumping on the floor with his cane, shouted, "Well, noo, that"s bonny, say I, Sandy McLeod."
"That"s so," said little Reuben Jenks, under his breath, for he sat quite near old Sandy and was a bit afraid of him. The old Scotchman owned a large farm on the outskirts of the town and was reported to have a deal of money, which most people said he never spent. He lived alone and was said to be rather crusty.
One day, when out for a walk, Helen, in pa.s.sing his door, saw old Sandy sitting on his door-stone, trying to thread a needle. Helen paused for a moment, saying kindly, "Please let me thread it for you."
The old man scowled and hesitated, then surrendered the needle. Helen threaded it; then, after a few pleasant words, resumed her walk.
The old fellow mumbled something, possibly thanks, and ever after that morning pulled off his cap to Helen when he met her.
Mrs. Gray laughed when Helen said she intended to invite him to the entertainment, saying that he would never come. He came, however, very promptly, and it was for him she sang the old Scotch ballad.
"Now," said Helen, "let us all sing, "Should Auld Acquaintance be Forgot,"" and with a will they sang it, old Sandy joining in the chorus.
It was now quite late, but good old Parson Spooner rose and proposed three cheers for the young lady who had planned such a beautiful entertainment. They were given heartily, and then every one crowded around Helen to clasp her hand and thank her again, and of all the merry party no one was happier than she.
Turning to Mrs. Gray, after the last guest had departed, Helen said, "I have often helped to entertain, with some success, but in the city one does not always feel the thanks so enthusiastically expressed to be sincere, but who could doubt the genuineness of the kind words spoken to-night?"
CHAPTER IX-CALLERS
"Randy, wake up!"
"Yes, oh yes, in a minute," Randy answered, drowsily.
"No, now, Randy, wake up now! I want to talk about those tab things what we had last night," and two little soft arms wound their way about sleepy Randy"s neck.
Randy rubbed her eyes, laughing as she said, "Do call them tableaux, Prue, can"t you remember that? Tableaux, Prue, say so."
"Tabby-lows!" shouted Prue. "How"s that?"
"Better," said Randy, still laughing.
"Well, whatever you call "em, yours was the prettiest, Randy dear, the very prettiest, and Jotham said so, too, so of course it"s true," said little Prue, who had been sitting up in bed in order to see her sister"s face when she repeated the compliment.
"Now, Prue," said Randy, "did he say that because you asked him?"
"Why, no," said the child, whose smiling face now a.s.sumed an injured expression. "He didn"t say it to me "tall. He said it to his mother; I heard him, and she said she thought so, too, I heard her; she sat just behind us. Now, Randy Weston, I thought it was real nice to tell you, and that"s what I waked you up for."
"It"s all very nice," Randy answered, "that you liked my picture best; and do you know, little sister, I would rather have you pleased than almost any one, next to father and mother."
"Why?" questioned the little girl, in genuine surprise.
"Because," said her sister, "you"re a little girl who means just what she says."
"Yes, I do mean it, Randy dear; you did look just the best of any one, but you"d ought to seen Jotham," she continued, "he meant it, too. He meant it just _tremenjous_!"
"Well, Jotham"s kind, too," said Randy; then, with a happy little sigh, she turned a smiling face to little Prue as she said, ""most every one"s good, I do believe."
"Not near as good as you, Randy," said Prue, thoughtfully; but, she added, brightening, "I mean to be good all day, "cause why do you s"pose, Randy? "Cause I had such a good time last night."
"That"s a good reason," said Randy. Soon Randy proposed dressing, and at the breakfast table Prue resumed the conversation with which she had awakened Randy.
All agreed that it had been just a lovely evening, but the little girl was not quite satisfied.
"Well, now, we did have a splendid time," said she, "but I want you to say my Randy was just the best of all."