Meg and Bobby promised to hurry home from school that afternoon and they were home twenty minutes after the dismissal bell had sounded. They paid their six pins to Twaddles, who stood at the door of the garret, and went in. Mother Blossom and Norah were already there, seated on a board placed on two small footstools.
“’Tisn’t a very high seat,” whispered Norah to Meg, who sat down beside her, “but then you haven’t far to fall.”
Meg and Bobby stared in surprise at the corner of the attic which the twins had curtained off for the stage. They would not let anybody help, so they had not been able to hang their curtains very high. A string had been stretched from one side of the wall to the other, where the garret roof began to slope, and two old lace curtains were flung over this. The audience could see through the lace without the slightest trouble but, as Dot said, they were supposed to pretend they couldn’t.
“The play will begin in a minute,” announced Twaddles, stepping out from behind the curtain. “It is called ‘The Magic Fountain’ and I invented some of it and Dot did, too.”
The audience politely clapped, and Twaddles reached up to pull the curtains apart. Something went wrong, the string broke and curtains and cord came down upon the unfortunate stage manager. Bobby untangled him and Twaddles said he thought they could get along without curtains.
“Hurry up, Dot,” he called in a loud whisper. “Come on, and begin. What are you waiting for?”
“I got it!” cried Dot, climbing out of a trunk that stood open on the “stage.” She wore a blue silk dress that had been her grandmother’s and was the pride of her heart because it had a long train.
“This is the fountain,” declared Twaddles, pointing to the open trunk. “I am a witch-man and I point my wand at it and a beautiful princess comes out. You watch.”
The summer before, Twaddles and Dot had seen an electric fountain and had watched fascinated while pretty girls and beautiful scenery and once what Dot called a “whole house” had risen apparently out of the water. This had given them the idea for their play.
“You have to wait a minute while I put on my hair,” said Dot so seriously that the audience did not dare laugh.