Six Girls and the Tea Room

by Marion Ames Taggart

"Thank you," said Ralph. "Why, here's my Polly!"

"She's my Polly too," cried Serena. "And Penny's my Penny, but most of all Miss Margery's my Miss Margery."

"I didn't know you knew our Ralph, Serena," cried Polly, running up to take possession of Ralph's hand. "Happie sent me to tell you she wants you to help stand the tree up, Ralph."

"I'll be back for you, little Serene Highness, when we've propped the tree," said Ralph hastening to obey.

They put the tree into its place and distributed hatchets to all the company. "First, the national parade!" shouted Bob, under an inspiration. "Shoulder arms!"

Everybody shouldered his tiny hatchet, Herr Lieder began to play a medley of national airs in march time. Ralph rushed over, caught Serena up on his left arm, fell into place, and all the company, large and small, marched around and around the tea room, brandishing hatchets and trying to sing familiar words that no longer fitted familiar airs when played in marching time, regardless of the original tempo.

"The first chop is Auntie Cam's!" cried Happie. "Come and be blindfolded, auntie. And next motherums!"

Mrs. Charleford submitted to the bandage over her eyes, while Herr Lieder played the queerest sort of music, so humorous that everybody laughed at it just as they would have laughed at funny words. When Mrs. Charleford was safely blindfolded and Bob turned her around three times to the left, and thrice to the right Herr Lieder played something that Laura correctly described as "dizzy." It was full of hints of tunes, none of which developed. "Don't you see?" cried Laura in ecstasy. "It means you don't know where you are!"

Then to the accompaniment of soft running arpeggios Mrs. Charleford went slowly forward, hesitated, turned, went in the opposite direction, raised her hatchet, put out her other hand gropingly, stopped when everybody cried, "No fair; no fair feeling!" and struck—to a crashing chord of Herr Lieder's—a valiant blow directly at Elsie Barker's head, who dodged it by throwing herself on Eleanor Vernon. "She thought you were a cherry, Elsie!" cried Edith amid the applause that greeted this first blow. Elsie was so proud of her red hair that there was no danger in teasing her about it.

Mrs. Scollard walked without a moment's hesitation to the portière and struck her hatchet deep into its folds. "Mother is trying to bury the hatchet," said Bob, untying the handkerchief that hid her eyes. "Come, Eleanor! you might bear in mind that it is the tree, and not the tea room or its friends that we are after."