No further unexpected interruptions took place, so Miss Martin proceeded with the programme of actors.
“What is your specialty, Jim?” to a freckle-faced lad of eleven.
“Me fadder was a champeen clog-dancer in Dublin, an’ he teached me de dance afore he died. I kin clog to beat de band!” said Jimmy, eagerly.
“Oh fine! Will you show us a sample of it, some time?” replied Miss Martin as she wrote down Jim’s accomplishment.
“Shure, but not on de grass, ye know, Miss Marting! It needs wood floors and wood clogs.”
“Yes, and we will have you dance on the Refectory floor soon.”
From Jim she went to one of the girls, who appeared impatient to tell of her talents.
“Well, Jenny, your turn next.”
“Miss Martin, I kin take off anyone you wants me to! I does it for fun at home an’ teacher says I’m the funniest girl she ever saw!”
“Jenny, suppose you impersonate Dinah, the cook?” said Miss Martin.