"No, just a real entertainment," said Kitty; "a programme one, you know. Each one must sing a song or speak a piece, or something like that. I'll be the audience, and you can all be performers."
"All right," said King; "I'll be master of ceremonies. I'll make up the programme as I go along. Ladies and gentlemen, our first number will be a speech by the Honorable Edward Maynard. Mr. Maynard will please step forward."
Mr. Maynard stepped. Assuming a pompous air, he made a low bow, first to Kitty, and then to the others.
"My dear friends," he said, "we are gathered here together this evening to extend our farewells and our hearty good wishes to the lady about to leave us. Sister, thou art mild and lovely, and we hate to see thee go; but the best of friends must sever, and you'll soon come back, you know. Listen now to our advices. Kitty, dear, for pity's sake, do not tumble in the river,—do not tumble in the lake. Many more things I could tell you as I talk in lovely rhyme, but I think it is my duty to let others share the time."
Mr. Maynard sat down amid great applause, and Kitty said, earnestly, "You are a lovely poet, Father. I wish you'd give up your other business, and just write books of poetry."
"I'm afraid, Kitsie, we wouldn't have enough money for pink ice-cream in that case," said Mr. Maynard, laughing.
"The next performeress will be Mrs. Maynard," announced the master of ceremonies.
Mother Maynard rose, smiling, and with all the airs and graces of a prima donna, went to the piano. Striking a few preliminary chords, she began to sing:
"Good-bye, Kitty; good-bye, Kitty; good-bye, Kitty,
You're going to leave us now.
Merrily we say good-bye,
Say good-bye, say good-bye;
Merrily we say good-bye
To sister Kitty-Kit."
This had a pleasant jingle, and was repeated by the whole assembly with fine effect and a large volume of noise.