Children's Book Classics - Kate Douglas Wiggin Edition: 11 Novels & 120+ Short Stories for Children. Kate Douglas Wiggin

within a mile of the camp.’

      ‘I think it will be simply perfect, when you have done a little more cutting,’ said Bell. ‘Just see our advantages: First, we have that rising knoll opposite the stage, which is exactly the thing for audience seats; then we have a semicircular background of trees and a flat place for the stage, which is perfectly invaluable; last of all, just gaze upon that madroño-tree in the centre, and the oak on the left; why, they are worth a thousand dollars for scenery.’

      ‘Especially in the first scene—ducal interior, or whatever it is,’ said Phil, disconsolately.

      ‘Jingo! that is a little embarrassing,’ groaned Jack.

      ‘Not at all,’ said Polly, briskly. ‘There is plenty of room to set the interior in front of those trees. It can be all fixed beforehand, and just whisked away for good at the end of the first act.’

      ‘That’s true,’ said Geoff, thoughtfully. ‘But we can’t have any Adam’s cottage. We talked it over last night, and decided it “couldn’t be did.”’

      ‘Did you indeed!’ exclaimed Bell, sarcastically. ‘Then allow me to remark that you three boys represent a very obtuse triangle.’

      ‘Thanks, most acid Rosalind!’ murmured Geoff, meekly. ‘Could you deign, as spokesman of the very acute triangle, to suggest something?’

      ‘Certainly. There is the rear of the brush kitchen in plain sight, to convey the idea of a rustic hut. To be sure, it’s a good distance to the left, but let the audience screw round in their seats when they hear the voices, and Adam, Oliver, and Orlando can walk out carelessly, and go through their scene right there.’

      ‘Admirable!’ quoth Geoff. ‘We bow to your superior judgment.’

      ‘What an inspiration that was to bring those Chinese lanterns for the Fourth of July; they have just saved us from utter ruin,’ said Margery, who was quietly making leaf-trimming.

      ‘Yes, the effect is going to be perfectly gorgeous!’ exclaimed Polly, clasping her hands in anticipation. ‘How many have we? Ten? Oh, that’s splendid; and how many candles?’

      ‘As many as we care to use,’ Phil answered, from the top of the ladder where he was at work. ‘And look at my arrangement for holding them to these trees. Aren’t they immense?’

      ‘By the way,’ said Bell, ‘don’t forget the mossy banks under those trees, for stage seats; and make me some kind of a thing on the left side, to swoon on when I sniff Orlando’s gory handkerchief.’

      ‘A couple of rocks,’ suggested Jack.

      ‘Not exactly,’ replied the critical Rosalind, with great dignity. ‘I am black and blue already from practising my faint, and I expect to shriek with pain when I fall to-morrow night.’

      ‘St. Jacob’s Oil relieves stiffened joints, smooths the wrinkles from the brow of care, soothes lacerated feelings, and ’ushes the ’owl of hinfancy,’ remarked Geoffrey serenely, as he prepared to build the required mossy banks.

      ‘My dear cousin (there are times when I am glad it is only second cousin), have you a secret contract to advertise a vulgar patent medicine? or why this eloquence?’ laughed Bell.

      ‘And, Jack,’ suggested Polly, ‘you don’t seem to be doing anything; fix a stump for me to sit on while Orlando and Rosalind are making love.’

      ‘All right, countess. I’d like to see you stumped once in my life. Shall we have the canvases brought for stage carpets?’

      ‘We say no,’ cried Rosalind, firmly. ‘We shall be a thousand times more awkward stumbling over stiff billows of carpet. Let’s sweep the ground as clean and smooth as possible, and let it go for all the scenes.’

      ‘Yes, we shall then be well grounded in our parts,’ remarked Phil, hiding his head behind a bunch of candles.

      ‘Take care, young man,’ laughed Polly, ‘or you may be “run to earth” instead.’

      ‘Or be requested by the audience to get up and dust,’ cried the irrepressible Jack, whose wit was very apt to be of a slangy character. ‘Now let us settle the interior, or I shall go mad.’

      ‘Bell and I have it all settled,’ said Geoffrey, promptly. ‘The background is to be made of three sheets hung over a line, and the two sides will be formed of canvas carpets; the walls will have Japanese fans, parasols, and—’

      ‘Jupiter!’ exclaimed Jack, who, as knight of the brush, felt compelled to be artistic. ‘Imagine a ducal palace, in the year so many hundred and something, decorated with Japanese bric-a-brac! I blush for you.’

      ‘Now, Jack, we might as well drop the whole play as begin to think of the ‘nakkeronisms,’ or whatever the word is. I have got to wear an old white wrapper to the wrestling-match, but I don’t complain,’ said Polly.

      Just here Bell ran back from the kitchen, exclaiming:

      ‘I have secured Pancho for Charles the Wrestler. Oh, he was fearfully obstinate! but when I told him he would only be on the stage two minutes, and would not have to speak a word, but just let Geoff throw him, he consented. Isn’t that good? Did you decide about the decorations?’

      ‘It will have to be just as we suggested,’ answered Margery. ‘Fans, parasols, flowers, and leaves, with the madroño-wood furniture scattered about, sheep-skins, etc.’

      ‘A few venison rugs, I presume you mean,’ said Geoffrey, slyly. ‘Say, Polly, omit the cold cream for once, will you? You don’t want to outshine everybody.’

      ‘Thank you,’ she replied. ‘I will endeavour to take care of my own complexion, if you will allow me. As for yours, you look more like Othello than Orlando.’

      ‘Come, come, girls,’ said industrious Margery, ‘let us go to the tent and sew. It is nothing but nonsense here, and we are not accomplishing anything.’

      So they wisely left the boys to themselves for the entire day, and transformed their tent into a mammoth dressmaking establishment, with clever Aunt Truth as chief designer.

      The intervening hours had slipped quickly away, and now the fatal moment had arrived, and everything was ready for the play.

      The would-be actresses were a trifle excited when the Professor and his eight students were brought up and introduced by Jack and Scott Burton; and, as if that were not enough, who should drive up at the last moment but the family from the neighbouring milk ranch, and beg to be allowed the pleasure of witnessing the performance. Mr. Sandford was the gentleman who had sold Dr. Winship his land, and so they were cordially invited to remain.

      All the cushions and shawls belonging to the camp were arranged carefully on the knoll, for audience seats; it was a brilliant moonlight night, and the stage assumed a very festive appearance with its four pounds of candles and twelve Chinese lanterns.

      Meanwhile the actors were dressing in their respective tents. Bell’s first dress was a long pink muslin wrapper of Mrs. Burton’s, which had been belted in and artistically pasted over with bouquets from the cretonne trunk covers, in imitation of flowered satin; under this she wore a short blue lawn skirt of her own, catching up the pink muslin on the left side with a bouquet of wild roses, and producing what she called a ‘positively Neilson effect.’

      Her bright hair was tossed up into a fluffy knot on the top of her head; and with a flat coronet of wild roses and another great bunch at her belt, one might have gone far and not have found a prettier Rosalind.

      ‘I declare, you are just too lovely—isn’t she, Laura?’ asked Margery.

      ‘Yes, she looks quite well,’ answered Laura, abstractedly, being much occupied in making herself absurdly beautiful as Audrey. ‘Of course the dress fits horridly, but perhaps it won’t show in the dim light.’

      ‘Oh,