“I have secured Pancho for Charles the Wrestler. Oh, he was fearfully obstinate! but when I told him he would only be on the stage two minutes, and would not have to speak a word, but just let Geoff throw him, he consented. Isn’t that good? Did you decide about the decorations?”
“It will have to be just as we suggested,” answered Margery. “Fans, parasols, flowers, and leaves, with the madroño-wood furniture scattered about, sheep-skins, etc.”
“A few venison rugs, I presume you mean,” said Geoffrey, slyly. “Say, Polly, omit the cold cream for once, will you? You don’t want to outshine everybody.”
“Thank you,” she replied. “I will endeavour to take care of my own complexion, if you will allow me. As for yours, you look more like Othello than Orlando.”
“Come, come, girls,” said industrious Margery, “let us go to the tent and sew. It is nothing but nonsense here, and we are not accomplishing anything.”
So they wisely left the boys to themselves for the entire day, and transformed their tent into a mammoth dressmaking establishment, with clever Aunt Truth as chief designer.
The intervening hours had slipped quickly away, and now the fatal moment had arrived, and everything was ready for the play.
The would-be actresses were a trifle excited when the Professor and his eight students were brought up and introduced by Jack and Scott Burton; and, as if that were not enough, who should drive up at the last moment but the family from the neighbouring milk ranch, and beg to be allowed the pleasure of witnessing the performance. Mr. Sandford was the gentleman who had sold Dr. Winship his land, and so they were cordially invited to remain.
All the cushions and shawls belonging to the camp were arranged carefully on the knoll, for audience seats; it was a brilliant moonlight night, and the stage assumed a very festive appearance with its four pounds of candles and twelve Chinese lanterns.
Meanwhile the actors were dressing in their respective tents. Bell’s first dress was a long pink muslin wrapper of Mrs. Burton’s, which had been belted in and artistically pasted over with bouquets from the cretonne trunk covers, in imitation of flowered satin; under this she wore a short blue lawn skirt of her own, catching up the pink muslin on the left side with a bouquet of wild roses, and producing what she called a “positively Neilson effect.”