Mr. Alexander gazed after her as he might if she had been sixteen instead of six, for he was fond of children, as well as of kittens and puppies, and all small creatures. They amused him. He was now determined that this quaint little child should go to the pantomime with himself and his friends, for he knew perfectly well that to watch her, and witness her wonder and delight, would be as diverting as to see the play itself—it would, in that way double his own entertainment.
Mr. Alick was benevolent, but not very scrupulous, I regret to confess. So, when he went to the housekeeper’s room to ask leave to take the child to the pantomime, judging that the Baptist preacher’s widow would set her face against all such exhibitions, he took a hint from the child’s mistake, and was so unprincipled as to persuade that pious matron that the spectacle in question was a historical affair, illustrative of the Israelites, and very instructive and edifying to the youthful mind. And so, with Mr. Richard to back him he talked the housekeeper into consenting that her child should accompany them, especially as Miss Anna was to be one of the party. And Mrs. Sterling began to dress little Drusilla—we shall call the child by her second name, for the same reason that Mr. Alexander did, to distinguish her from the other Anna.
Immediately after dinner the young party set out, and reached the theatre in time to get good front seats.
The pantomime was “Jack the Giant Killer.” But as Mr. Alexander kept little Drusilla beside himself, and kept the play bill in his own hands, he found it easy to persuade the simple child that the exhibition was of “David and Goliath,” Jack was David, and Jack’s first giant was Goliath.
And the child was exceedingly edified, as well as highly entertained.
Mr. Alexander found it “as good as a play,” and much better than a pantomime, to watch her. Her credulity was equal to her delight, and both were unbounded. But she thought it was not exactly like the Scripture story, after all.
Mr. Alexander explained to her that they could not make it exactly like, because things were so different now to what they were then.
Little Drusilla accepted the explanation in full faith, saying in her solemn way, that she supposed they did the best they could, and that we must “take the will for the deed.”
The pantomime was over a little after ten o’clock, and the youthful party returned home.
Little Drusilla, restored to her mother’s charge, would have rehearsed for her benefit all the great spectacle of “David and Goliath,” but that the good lady told her that it was time for her to be asleep, and made her go immediately to bed.