Many of the children had never seen any thing likeit, and sat staring about them in mute admiration andexpectancy; but the older ones criticised freely, andindulged in wild speculations as to the meaning ofvarious convulsions of nature going on behind thecurtain.

 

　　While Teacher was dressing the actresses for thetragedy, Miss Celia and Thorny, who were old handsat this sort of amusement, gave a "Potato" pantomimeas a side show.

 

　　Across an empty stall a green cloth was fastened,so high that the heads of the operators were not seen.

 

　　A little curtain flew up, disclosing the front of aChinese pagoda painted on pasteboard, with a doorand window which opened quite naturally. This stoodon one side, several green trees with paper lanternshanging from the boughs were on the other side, andthe words "Tea Garden," printed over the top, showedthe nature of this charming spot.

 

　　Few of the children had ever seen the immortalPunch and Judy, so this was a most agreeable novelty,and before they could make out what it meant, avoice began to sing, so distinctly that every word washeard, --"In China there lived a little man,His name was Chingery Wangery Chan."Here the hero "took the stage" with great dignity,clad in a loose yellow jacket over a blue skirt, whichconcealed the hand that made his body. A pointedhat adorned his head, and on removing this to bowhe disclosed a bald pate with a black queue in themiddle, and a Chinese face nicely painted on thepotato, the lower part of which was hollowed out tofit Thorny's first finger, while his thumb and secondfinger were in the sleeves of the yellow jacket, makinga lively pair of arms. While he saluted, the songwent n, --"His legs were short, his feet were small,And this little man could not walk at all."Which assertion was proved to be false by the agilitywith which the "little man " danced a jig in timeto the rollicking chorus, --"Chingery changery ri co day,Ekel tekel happy man;Uron odesko canty oh, oh,Gallopy wallopy China go."At the close of the dance and chorus, Chan retiredinto the tea garden, and drank so many cups of thenational beverage, with such comic gestures, that thespectators were almost sorry when the opening ofthe opposite window drew all eyes in that direction.

 

　　At the lattice appeared a lovely being; for this potatohad been pared, and on the white surface were paintedpretty pink checks, red lips, black eyes, and obliquebrows; through the tuft of dark silk on the headwere stuck several glittering pins, and a pink jacketshrouded the plump figure of this capital little Chineselady. After peeping coyly out, so that all couldsee and admire, she fell to counting the money froma purse, so large her small hands could hardly hold iton the window seat. While she did this, the songwent on to explain, --"Miss Ki Hi was short and squat,She had money and he had notSo off to her he resolved to go,And play her a tune on his little banjo."During the chorus to this verse Chan was seen tuninghis instrument in the garden, and at the endsallied gallantly forth to sing the following tenderstrain, --"Whang fun li,Tang hua ki,Hong Kong do ra me!

 

　　Ah sin lo,Pan to fo,Tsing up chin leute!"Carried away by his passion, Chan dropped hisbanjo, fell upon his knees, and, clasping his hands,bowed his forehead in the dust before his idol. But,alas! --"Miss Ki Hi heard his notes of love,And held her wash-bowl up aboveIt fell upon the little man,And this was the end of Chingery Chan,"Indeed it was; for, as the doll's basin of real waterwas cast forth by the cruel charmer, poor Chan expiredin such strong convulsions that his head rolleddown among the audience. Miss Ki Hi peeped tosee what had become of her victim, and the shutterdecapitated her likewise, to the great delight of thechildren, who passed around the heads, pronouncinga "Potato" pantomime "first-rate fun."Then they settled themselves for the show, havingbeen assured by Manager Thorny that they were aboutto behold the most elegant and varied combinationever produced on any stage. And when one readsthe following very inadequate description of thesomewhat mixed entertainment, it is impossible to denythat the promise made was nobly kept.

 

　　After some delay and several crashes behind thecurtain, which mightily amused the audience, theperformance began with the well-known tragedy of"Bluebeard;" for Bab had set her heart upon it,and the young folks had acted it so often in theirplays that it was very easy to get up, with a fewextra touches to scenery and costumes. Thorny wassuperb as the tyrant with a beard of bright blue worsted,a slouched hat and long feather, fur cloak, redhose, rubber boots, and a real sword which clankedtragically as he walked. He spoke in such a deepvoice, knit his corked eye-brows, and glared sofrightfully, that it was no wonder poor Fatima quakedbefore him as he gave into her keeping an immensebunch of keys with one particularly big, bright one,among them.

 

　　Bab was fine to see, with Miss Celia's blue dresssweeping behind her, a white plume in her flowinghair, and a real necklace with a pearl locket about herneck. She did her part capitally, especially the shriekshe gave when she looked into the fatal closet, theenergy with which she scrubbed the tell-tale key,and her distracted tone when she callcd out: "SisterAnne, O, sister Anne, do you see anybody coming?"while her enraged husband was roaring: "Will youcome down, madam, or shall I come and fetchyou?"Betty made a captivating Anne, -- all in white muslin,and a hat full of such lovely pink roses that shecould not help putting up one hand to feel them asshe stood on the steps looking out at the little windowfor the approaching brothers who made such a dinthat it sounded like a dozen horsemen instead if two.

 

　　Ben and Billy were got up regardless of expense inthe way of arms; for their belts were perfect arsenals,and their wooden swoids were big enough to striketerror into any soul, though they struck no sparks outof Bluebeard's blade in the awful combat which precededthe villain's downfall and death.

 

　　The boys enjoyed this part intensely, and cries of"Go it, Ben!" " Hit him again, Billy!" "Two againstone isn't fair!" "Thorny's a match for 'em." " Nowhe's down, hurray!" cheered on the combatants, till,after a terrific struggle, the tyrant fell, and withconvulsive twitchings of the scarlet legs, slowly expiredwhile the ladies sociably fainted in each other's arms,and the brothers waved their swords and shook handsover the corpse of their enemy.

 

　　This piece was rapturously applauded, and all theperformers had to appear and bow their thanks, ledby the defunct Bluebeard, who mildly warned theexcited audience that if they "didn't look out the seatswould break down, and then there'd be a nice mess."Calmed by this fear they composed themselves, andwaited with ardor for the next play, which promised tobe a lively one, judging from the shrieks of laughterwhich came from behind the cuitain.

 

　　"Sanch 's going to be in it, I know; for I heardBen say, 'Hold him still; he won't bite,'" whisperedSam, longing to "jounce up and down, so great washis satisfaction at the prospect, for the dog wasconsidered the star of the company.

 

　　"I hope Bab will do something else, she is so funny.

 

　　Wasn't her dress elegant?" said Sally Folsum, burningto wear a long wilk gown and a feathei in her hair.

 

　　"I like Betty best, she's so cunning, and she peekedout of the window just as if she really saw somebodycoming," answered Liddy Peckham, privately resolvingto tease mother for some pink roses before anotherSunday came.

 

　　Up went the curtain at last, and a voice announced"A Tragedy in Three Tableaux." "There's Betty!"was the general exclamation, as the audience recognizeda familiar face under the little red hood worn bythe child who stood receiving a basket from Teacher,who made a nice mother with her finger up, as iftelling the small messenger not to loiter by the way.

 

　　"I know what that is!" cried Sally; "it's 'Mabelon Midsummer Day.' The piece Miss Celia spoke;don't you know?""There isn't any sick baby, and Mabel had a 'kerchiefpinned about her head.' I say it's Red RidingHood," answered Liddy, who had begun to learnMary Howitt's pretty poem for her next piece, andknew all about it.

 

　　The question was settled by the appearance of thewolf in the second scene, and such a wolf! On fewamateur stages do we find so natural an actor for thatpart, or so good a costume, for Sanch was irresistiblydroll in the gray wolf-skin which usually lay besideMiss Celia's bed, now fitted over his back and fastenedneatly down underneath, with his own facepeeping out at one end, and the handsome tail bobinggayly at the other. What a comfort that tail wasto Sancho, none but a bereaved bow-wow could evertell. It reconciled him to his distasteful part at once,it made rehearsals a joy, and even before the publiche could not resist turning to catch a glimpse of thenoble appendage, while his own brief member waggedwith the proud consciousness that though the tail............