A selection of small boys and girls sang school glees and Christmas carols, a trifle flat occasionally, but perhaps that was the fault of the piano, which needed tuning. The two Miss Prices from the Post-Office warbled a mild little duet, which gave unbounded satisfaction to their fond mamma, if to nobody else; the blacksmith's assistant roared out a sea song in a voice like a tempest; and a young man on a visit to the miller gave a comic song, which quite took the company by storm.
A five minutes' interval followed before the act, which was regarded as the chief event of the evening. There was a good deal of giggling and whispered conversation behind the scenes as the actors hastily concluded their preparations, but at length, in response to the enthusiastic clapping and stamping of the audience, the curtain was drawn aside by two Sunday-school teachers, and the play began. Peggy, standing behind one of the clothes-horses which served for a side-wing, could see the two hundred eager faces turned towards the platform, and experienced that peculiar sensation known as 'stage fright.' Instead of longing now for a prominent part, she heaved a sigh of relief to think that Lilian must begin instead, and trembled for the moment when she would be obliged to face those watching eyes.
The piece chosen turned upon a discussion between a man and his wife as to the relative difficulties of their work, resulting in the husband undertaking to do the morning's duties during the absence of the housewife. Lilian, in a print dress, apron, and sun-bonnet, made a charming little village mother, and trotted off with her basket, leaving many injunctions for 'John' to follow. Archie, as the husband, in corduroy trousers, his shirt-sleeves rolled up, and a short clay pipe in his mouth, was a capital British workman, and his struggles in the performance of his domestic duties were the subject of much mirth. When he broke the china, and stirred up the washing with the poker, the audience cheered, and it shouted with delight when he upset the kettle and burnt the bread black in the oven. Peggy and Bobby as 'the children,' with crumpled pinafores and smudged faces, were an equal success, for in watching Archie Peggy had forgotten her sudden shyness, and she now threw herself thoroughly into her part, howling most realistically when her nose was scrubbed in the wash-tub, or her hair combed with a fork; while Bobby stole jam and resisted medicine with lifelike zeal. Lilian's face, when as 'Mary' she returned to find her cottage a scene of confusion, was considered excellent, and the moral of the story was enough to satisfy even the Rector. The audience 'hoorayed' and thumped with their thick boots on the floor, and shouted 'encore'; but as it was not possible to break the china, spill the medicine, and upset the kettle twice over without a considerable amount of preparation, they had to be content with the graceful bows which the artistes bestowed upon them.
'Say them "Little Orphaned Annie" instead of an encore,' whispered Lilian to Peggy, as the stamping still went on, and nobody seemed inclined to go.
'Shall I?' said Peggy, flushing; for it was her best piece at the elocution class, and she had been complimented on it by her teacher.
'Yes, go on quick!' said Lilian, pushing her forward, and catching the Rector's eye.
Peggy was in good form that night, and I really think her recitation was considered the star of the evening. Her gruesome voice as she recounted what the goblins did to naughty boys made several small sinners in the back benches shake in their shoes—many innocent infants felt they should never dare to go to bed in the dark again; and the wild shriek with which she ended her announcement that 'the goblins are about' quite brought down the house, and the children shouted and yelled and cheered as the Rector strove to get order once more, and wind up the proceedings with the National Anthem. So Peggy had her triumph after all, even if it were only a small one.
CHAPTER XIX
PEGGY AT WAR
'By this good light, a lass of matchless mettle!'