Lovey Mary
Chapter XI
The Christmas Play
"Not failure, but low aim, is crime."
As the holiday season approached, a rumor began to be circulated that the
Cabbage Patch Sunday-school would have an entertainment as well as a Christmas
tree. The instigator of this new movement was Jake Schultz, whose histrionic
ambition had been fired during his apprenticeship as "super" at the opera-house.
"I know a man what rents costumes, an' the promp'-books to go with 'em," he
said to several of the boys one Sunday afternoon. "If we all chip in we kin
raise the price, an' git it back easy by chargin' admittance."
"Aw, shucks!" said Chris. "We don't know nothin' 'bout play-actin'."
"We kin learn all right," said Billy Wiggs. "I bid to be the feller that acts
on the trapeze."
The other boys approving of the plan, it was agreed that Jake should call on
the costumer at his earliest convenience.
One night a week later Lovey Mary was getting supper when she heard an
imperative rap on the door. It was Jake Schultz. He mysteriously beckoned her
out on the steps, and closed the door behind them.
"Have you ever acted any?" he asked.
"I used to say pieces at the home," said Lovey Mary, forgetting herself.
"Well, do you think you could take leadin' lady in the entertainment?"
Lovey Mary had no idea what the lady was expected to lead, but she knew that
she was being honored, and she was thrilled at the prospect.
"I know some arm-exercises, and I could sing for them," she offered.
"Oh, no," explained Jake; "it's a play, a reg'lar theayter play. I got the
book and the costumes down on Market street. The man didn't have but this one
set of costumes on hand, so I didn't have no choice. It's a bully play, all
right, though! I seen it oncet, an' I know how it all ought to go. It's named
'Forst,' er somethin' like that. I'm goin' to be the devil, an' wear a red suit,
an' have my face all streaked up. Billy he's goin' to be the other feller what's
stuck on the girl. He tole me to ast you to be her. Your dress is white with
cords an' tassels on it, an' the sleeves ain't sewed up. Reckon you could learn
the part? We ain't goin' to give it all."
"I can learn anything!" cried Lovey Mary, recklessly. "Already know the
alphabet and the Lord's Prayer backward. Is the dress short- sleeve? And does it
drag in the back when you walk?"
"Yep," said Jake, "an' the man said you was to plait your hair in two parts
an' let 'em hang over your shoulders. I don't see why it wouldn't be pretty for
you to sing somethin', too. Ever'body is so stuck on yer singin'."
"All right," said Lovey Mary, enthusiastically; "you bring the book over and
show me where my part's at. And, Jake," she called as he started off, "you tell
Billy I'll be glad to."
For the next ten days Lovey Mary dwelt in Elysium. The prompt-book, the
rehearsals, the consultations, filled the spare moments and threw a glamour over
the busy ones. Jake, with his vast experience and unlimited knowledge of
stage-craft, appealed to her in everything. He sat on a barrel and told how they
did things "up to the opery-house," and Lovey Mary, seizing his suggestions with
burning zeal, refitted the costumes, constructed scenery, hammered her own nails
as well as the iron ones, and finally succeeded in putting into practice his
rather vague theories. For the first time in her life she was a person of
importance.
Besides her numerous other duties she prepared an elaborate costume for
Tommy. This had caused her some trouble, for Miss Hazy, who was sent to buy the
goods for the trousers, exercised unwise economy in buying two remnants which
did not match in color or pattern.
"Why didn't you put your mind on it, Miss Hazy?" asked Lovey Mary, making a
heroic effort to keep her temper. "You might have known I couldn't take Tommy to
the show with one blue leg and one brown one. What must I do?"
Miss Hazy sat dejectedly in the corner, wiping her eyes on her apron. "You
might go ast Mis' Wiggs," she suggested as a forlorn hope.
When Mrs. Wiggs was told the trouble she smiled reassuringly. Emergencies
were to her the spice of life; they furnished opportunities for the expression
of her genius.
"Hush cryin', Miss Hazy; there ain't a speck of harm did. Mary kin make the
front outen one piece an' the back outen the other. Nobody won't never know the
difference, 'cause Tommy can't be goin' an' comin' at the same time."
The result was highly satisfactory, that is, to everybody but Tommy. He
complained that there "wasn't no room to set down."
On Christmas night the aristocracy of the Cabbage Patch assembled in the
school-house to enjoy the double attraction of a Christmas tree and an
entertainment. Mr. Rothchild, who had arranged the tree for the last ten years,
refused to have it moved from its accustomed place, which was almost in the
center of the platform. He had been earnestly remonstrated with, but he and the
tree remained firm. Mrs. Rothchild and all the little Rothchildren had climbed
in by the window before the doors were open in order to secure the front seats.
Immediately behind them sat the Hazys and the Wiggses.
"That there is the seminary student gittin' up now," whispered Mrs. Wiggs.
"He's goin' to call out the pieces. My land! ain't he washed out? Looks like
he'd go into a trance fer fifty cents. Hush, Australia! don't you see he is
goin' to pray?"
After the opening prayer, the young preacher suggested that, as long as the
speakers were not quite ready, the audience should "raise a hymn."
"He's got a fine voice," whispered Miss Hazy; "I heared 'em say he was the
gentleman soprano at a down-town church."
When the religious exercises were completed, the audience settled into a
state of pleasurable anticipation.
"The first feature of the entertainment," announced the preacher, "will be a
song by Miss Europena Wiggs."
[Illustration: "Europena stepped forward."]
Europena stepped forward and, with hands close to her sides and anguished
eyes on the ceiling, gasped forth the agonized query:
"Can she make a cheery-pie,
Billy boy, Billy boy?
Can she make a cheery-pie,
Charming Billy?"
Notwithstanding the fact that there were eight verses, an encore was
demanded. Mrs. Wiggs rose in her seat and beckoned vehemently to Europena. "Come
on back!" she motioned violently with her lips. "They want you to come back."
Europena, in a state of utter bewilderment, returned to the stage.
"Say another speech!" whispered Mrs. Wiggs, leaning over so far that she
knocked Mrs. Rothchild's bonnet awry. Still Europena stood there, an evident
victim of lockjaw.
"'I have a little finger,'" prompted her mother frantically from the second
row front.
A single ray of intelligence flickered for a moment over the child's face,
and with a supreme effort she said:
"I have a little finger,
An' I have a little beau;
When I get a little bigger
I'll have a little toe."
"Well, she got it all in," said Mrs. Wiggs, in a relieved tone, as Europena
was lifted down.
After this, other little girls came forward and made some unintelligible
remarks concerning Santa Claus. It was with some difficulty that they went
through their parts, for Mr. Rothchild kept getting in the way as he calmly and
uncompromisingly continued to hang cornucopias on the tree. Songs and
recitations followed, but even the youngest spectator realized that these were
only preliminary skirmishes.
At last a bell rang. Two bedspreads. which served as curtains were
majestically withdrawn. A sigh of admiration swept the room. "Ain't he cute!"
whispered a girl in the rear, as Billy rose resplendent in pink tights and
crimson doublet, and folding his arms high on his breast, recited in a deep
voice:
"I have, alas! philosophy,
Medicine, jurisprudence too,
And, to my cost, theology
With ardent labor studied through."
"I don't see no sense in what he's sayin' at all," whispered Miss Hazy.
"It's jes what was in the book," answered Mrs. Wiggs, "'cause I heared him
repeat it off before supper."
The entrance of Jake awakened the flagging interest. Nobody understood what
he said either, but he made horrible faces, and waved his red arms, and caused a
pleasant diversion.
"Maw, what's John Bagby a-handin' round in that little saucer?" asked
Australia.
"Fer the mercy sake! I don't know," answered her mother, craning her neck to
see.
John, with creaking footsteps, tiptoed to the front of the stage, and
stooping down, began to mix a concoction in a plate. Many stood up to see what
he was doing, and conjecture was rife. Mephisto and Faust were
forgotten until Jake struck a heroic pose, and grasping Billy's arm, said
hoarsely:
"Gaze, Faustis, gaze into pairdition!"
John put a match to the powder, a bright red light filled the room, and the
audience, following the index-finger of the impassioned Mephisto, gazed
into the placid, stupid faces of four meek little boys on the mourners' bench.
Before the violent coughing caused by the calcium fumes had ceased, a vision
in white squeezed past Mr. Rothchild and came slowly down to the edge of the
platform. It was Lovey Mary as Marguerite. Her long dress swept about her
feet, her heavy hair hung in thick braids over both shoulders, and a burning red
spot glowed on each cheek. For a moment she stood as Jake had directed, with
head thrown back and eyes cast heavenward, then she began to recite. The words
poured from her lips with a volubility that would have shamed an auctioneer. It
was a long part, full of hard words, but she knew it perfectly and was
determined to show how fast she could say it without making a mistake. It was
only when she finished that she paused for breath. Then she turned slowly, and
stretching forth appealing arms to Faust, sang in a high, sweet voice, "I
Need Thee Every Hour."
The effect was electrical. At last the Cabbage Patch understood what was
going on. The roof rang with applause. Even Mr. Rothchild held aside his strings
of pop-corn to let Marguerite pass out.
"S' more! S' more!" was the cry. "Sing it ag'in!"
Jake stepped before the curtain. "If our friends is willin'," he said, "we'll
repeat over the last ak."
Again Lovey Mary scored a triumph. John Bagby burned the rest of the calcium
powder during the last verse, and the entertainment concluded in a prolonged
cheer.