“And the play is so very splendid!” cried Jasper. “Oh dear me! what ought we to do, Polly?” He buried his face in his hands a moment.
“Pickering must give up his part,” said Polly again.
“But, Polly, you know he has been in all our plays,” said Jasper. “And he'll feel so badly, and now he's got all this trouble about his lessons on his mind,” and Jasper's face fell.
Polly twisted uncomfortably on her chair. “Oh dear me!” she began, “I suppose we must give it up.”
“And if we gave it up, not altogether, but put it off till he catches up on his studies,” suggested Jasper, “why, he wouldn't be dropped out.”
“But the poor brakeman's family, Jasper,” said Polly, puzzled that Jasper should forget the object of the play.
“Oh, I didn't mean that we should put off earning the money, Polly,” cried Jasper, quite horrified at such a thought. “We must do something else, so that we can sell just as many tickets.”
“But what will it be?” asked Polly, trying not to feel crushed, and sighing at the disappearance of the beautiful play, for a time at least.
“Well, we could have recitations, for one thing,” said Jasper, feeling dreadfully to see Polly's disappointment, and concealing his own, for he had set his heart on the play too.
“Oh dear me!” exclaimed Polly, wrinkling up her face in disdain. “Jasper, do you know, I am so tired of recitations!”