There was relief from spookdom when the juniors came in to give very prettily a “Dance of the Pumpkins.” “Pumpkin” costumes and one funny rolling movement gave the “motif.”
But how they laughed when the freshmen came in as black cats, managed by a rather frisky looking witch with her tall black hat, her black robe and the broomstick on which she expected to make her exit. On the front of the robe was the large cat’s head with its big yellow eyes, and a whole cat was depicted on the back between the witch’s shoulders.
First the witch led the march, while the piano crashed and two girls who had violins tried a little hideous jazz at certain points. Next, the witch stopped and from the side gave orders for a standing drill with rubber mice. A few squeals from the audience at the first appearance of the mice, swung forth by their tails, was so natural and suggestive that the whole audience laughed and one girl called out, “nice kitties!”
The comical appearance made by the backs of the girls, as they wheeled and faced away from the audience, brought more laughter. Shirley had despaired of painting enough cats for all the freshmen in the drill, but the bright idea occurred to her after it was decided to put cats on their costumes, to stencil the cats. Accordingly, on the square white patch of muslin, similar to the one upon her own costume, which the witch wore, in stenciled patches of black, the clawing limbs and wildly waving tail of the witch’s cat appeared.
As a result of careful measurements, this made a line of cat pictures funny to behold, with the black whiskers and yellow eyes added by Shirley’s brush afterward. The cat’s head in front was striking, too, but not so funny as the whole cat between the shoulders behind. It was scarcely necessary to do anything “smart,” Madge declared to Shirley. Just to look at them was enough, Madge said; and Shirley, grinning herself at some of the evolutions, nodded assent. “Maybe that’s so,” she whispered, as the freshmen girls made their eyes big, held out the mice with one “claw” and scratched at them with the other. They laid them on the floor and played with them, or took them away from each other and “howled” in chorus, all to the music. This changed now to the lively melody of which Shirley was the composer.
Facing the audience and lined up in one row, the freshmen pinned the rubber mice on their costumes by the tails as badges and stood for a moment to get their breath while one of the teachers, who had made an accompaniment to Shirley’s melody, played a brief prelude.
“Mother Goose stuff,” said a low voice near Shirley. Shirley did not turn to see what the speaker looked like, in some gay costume, she supposed, for the voice was Sidney’s. Madge heard it, too, and nudged Shirley, whose ghost costume, of course, could not indicate to Sidney that the chairman of the committee was close by. “She’s jealous,” whispered Madge, but the sarcastic little phrase spoiled what followed for Shirley. “It is silly,” she thought, “but, someway, they couldn’t think up anything better, and we had to have something.” Quietly she stood to see how the girls would sing the foolish song.
But the rest of the audience were in the spirit of fun and “Mother Goose stuff” was quite acceptable to them. Youthful freshmen voices started in after a loud crash from the accompanist and a wail from the violins.
Oh we are the witch’s cats;
We creep and we snoop and we prowl;