At seven-thirty o’clock on Hallowe’en, suite Number 10 buzzed like a bee-hive. The three occupants were dressing, two or three girls were assisting at the robing, and two or three more who were already costumed were acting as spectators.
Beverly was going as Tweedle-dum, her costume consisting of funny little ruffled trousers, a Lord Fauntleroy shirt, jacket and collar, her hair braided and tucked inside her waist and her head covered by a huge Glengarry bonnet. Tiny patent-leather pumps and little blue socks completed the funny makeup. She was as bonny a little lad as one could find, her name being plainly printed upon her big collar. Who would complete the pair by being Tweedle-dee no one had been able to coax from her. Her reply to all the girl’s importunities being:
“Just wait and see if we don’t match well.”
Sally was to be Will-o’-the-Wisp, and a plump, spooky sprite she made with dabs of phosphorus upon her fluttering black cambric costume, and funny peaked cap, which glowed uncannily when the room was darkened. She carried a little electric bulb lantern which unexpectedly flashed its blinding rays into people’s faces.
Aileen chose to be the evening star and very lovely she looked in her costume made of several silver-spangled scarfs draped over one of her dainty “nighties,” which, of course, fell straight from her shoulders. Her hair was caught up with every rhinestone pin or buckle she owned or could borrow, and Mrs. Bonnell had supplied from the properties kept for private theatricals the glittering star she wore above her forehead.
Aileen moved a goddess and she looked a queen, for she was a very stately, lovely young girl.
At the stroke of eight all were ready and a general rush was made for the gym, the girls laughing, talking, jostling each other and in most hilarious mood, but, when they reached that gaily decorated room Tweedle-dum was not among them.
The gym presented a pretty picture that night lighted by pumpkin Jack o’ Lanterns in which electric bulbs had been hidden, and by grotesque paper lanterns representing bats, owls and all sorts of flying nocturnal creatures. The side walls had been covered with gorgeous autumn foliage, palms and potted rubber plants stood all about, and last, but by no means least, there was a long table laden with goodies and more pumpkin decorations. The room was a fitting scene for goblin’s revels.
A barn dance had just begun, when down through the gym pranced Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee, and so identical were the figures that no mortal being could have told one from the other had they chanced to become separated. But this they seemed to have no intention of doing. Together they went through the figures of the pretty fancy dance, prancing, twirling, advancing, retreating; arms clasped or held above each other’s heads, feet twinkling in perfect time, heads nodding, eyes dancing through the peepers of their little black half-masks, lips smiling to reveal faultless teeth.
In two minutes everybody was asking: