When the confusion had subsided into silence, some one at the piano began to play softly, and the curtain parted to show in the frame a beautiful Spanish girl with fan and mantilla. Following her in quick succession came a fair-haired English girl, a smiling maiden from Japan with arched eyebrows and bright-colored parasol, and a rosy Dutch girl in cap and kerchief. Then a Turk sitting cross-legged upon his cushion smoked his long pipe and beamed affably on the audience, an Esquimaux gentleman came from his igloo in the north to pose for a moment, and a boyish Uncle Sam and John Bull shook hands fraternally.
Each picture was shown twice, but it was ail too short for the enthusiastic audience, which applauded so vociferously that Frank was obliged to step before the curtain and announce that owing to lack of time no encores could be given.
Then followed representations of celebrated paintings; the Girl with the Muff, a pathetic Nydia, and the charming little Dutch girl holding a cat. Molly Eastman posed for that with Bagheera, Betty's largest cat, clutched tightly in her arms. When Bagheera heard the applause he struggled wildly to escape, nearly knocking Molly over as he leaped from her arms just as the curtain covered the frame. Molly looked ready to cry because her picture could not be shown a second time, then snatching up her beloved Teddy bear, which went everywhere she did, she stood, triumphant, waiting for the curtain to be drawn. It was too good to be lost, and the boys pulled the curtain twice, much to Molly's joy and the delight of the audience.
This was the end of the first part of the program, and there was a buzz of conversation which softened into silence as the school orchestra filed on the stage. It was warmly greeted, for this was its first public appearance, and the proud parents of the performers were anxious to hear the results of their practice together. Like wise boys they didn't try to do anything great, but delighted the hearts of their hearers with a simple arrangement of some of the old patriotic songs that every one loves. They ended with the Star Spangled Banner and played it with so much spirit that the entire audience rose to do honor to the grand old song.
With the second drawing of the curtain, ten dainty Japanese ladies fluttered upon the stage with mincing steps, waving gay fans and bowing low as they drew up in line before the audience. So much did the flowing garments, the fan-bedecked hair and the slanting eyebrows change the girls that even some of the mothers failed at first to recognize their own daughters.
"I see Charlotte, and that one on the end is Ruth," announced the irrepressible Molly Eastman loudly, and then buried her head on her father's shoulder when every one turned to look at her.
The fan drill was beautiful to see, for the intricate marching, the delicate swaying of the figures, was done with a precision which gave no chance for criticism. The performers came out to bow their thanks for the hearty applause, and, when the audience refused to be satisfied, fluttered out again with fans held coquettishly before their faces. Then each girl extracted from her flowing sleeve a paper bird, and holding it as high as she could reach began to fan it into motion. It was a pretty sight; the gaily-colored birds flying in all directions, and the graceful girls, quick of eye and action, doing their utmost to keep them from falling. There were one or two narrow escapes, but not one really reached the floor, and at a signal they were caught upon the outstretched fans and the little ladies had fled.
"If that looks easy to you just try it," said Mrs. Hamilton during the pause in the program. "I made an attempt at it the other day when Ruth was practicing at home, and I found it the hardest thing I've undertaken for some time. It's wonderful training for the eye and muscles."
As she finished speaking, slow, dreamy music began on the piano and the curtains were pulled apart, disclosing a pedestal on which stood Dorothy in a flowing Greek robe and with her golden hair dressed in classic fashion. At first she was like a beautiful statue, then, as the music proceeded, she went through a series of poses, each one so vivid and graceful that when she became a statue once more and the curtain hid her from sight the hall rang with applause.
The program was already so long that Dorothy refused to repeat her number, and when the curtain was drawn again four fine lads stepped out to swing Indian clubs. The boys did it well and the fathers and mothers glowed with pride over the straight young figures and the easy grace which made the clubs seem like mere toys.