“Where are we going to put seventy people?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, venturing, dismayed, into the heaps of shavings, and boards, and litter.
The little boys exclaimed that a large part of the audience consisted of boys, who would not take up much room. But how much clearing and sweeping and moving of chairs was necessary before all could be made ready! It was late, and some of the people had already come to secure good seats, even before the actors had assembled.
“What are we going to act?” asked Ann Maria.
“I have been so torn with one thing and another,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “I haven’t had time to think!”
“Haven’t you the word yet?” asked John Osborne, for the audience was flocking in, and the seats were filling up rapidly.
“I have got one word in my pocket,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “in the letter from the lady from Philadelphia. She sent me the parts of the word. Solomon John is to be a Turk, but I don’t yet understand the whole of the word.”
“You don’t know the word, and the people are all here!” said John Osborne, impatiently.
“Elizabeth Eliza!” exclaimed Ann Maria, “Solomon John says I’m to be a Turkish slave, and I’ll have to wear a veil. Do you know where the veils are? You know I brought them over last night.”
“Elizabeth Eliza! Solomon John wants you to send him the large cashmere scarf!” exclaimed one of the little boys, coming in.
“Elizabeth Eliza! you must tell us what kind of faces to make up!” cried another of the boys.