Suddenly Nita, who never was quiet very long, cried: “Oh, Nathalie, you must tell us what you meant when you said that you had a big idea. Don’t you remember, it was when Janet made Philip stop his story?”
“I don’t know as it is a very big idea,” replied her companion, “for its bigness depends, as Dick says, on whether we make a go of it or not. I spoke of it then, not only because I had just thought of it, but because I wanted to second Janet, for Philip was as white as a ghost.
“You know,” she continued slowly, “the afternoon teas at the Sweet Pea Tea-House have not been very well attended lately. I presume the minds of the people have been diverted by some new form of amusement. I’m awfully sorry, too, for I think my dear Sweet-Pea ladies need the money. Now what do you think of having Philip tell the rest of his story some afternoon at the Tea-House? We’ll get Jean to tell his story, too, and the boys can sing patriotic songs; and then, there’s Tony, with his violin. I think we can get up a real good entertainment, and we can call it a Liberty Tea.”
“Oh, Nathalie, that’s a peach of an idea!” Nita’s blue eyes glowed enthusiastically.
“You see,” returned her friend, “it would attract the people to the Tea-House again, and also bring Philip into notice. I think his story would interest every one, and it might get him a few more pupils.”
As the little party wended their way down the trail, they were busy making plans and devising ways to make Nathalie’s “big idea” feasible. They had broached the subject to Philip,—Nathalie being careful not to make it appear as if he would gain by the performance,—and he had readily consented to do his part. Janet, too, was won over, and as for the children, they were in a beatific state at the idea of appearing on a platform, and “speaking a piece,” as Sheila called it.
Miss Whipple, when the idea was suggested to her, Nathalie making it appear that Philip would derive great benefit from it, heartily favored the plan. So, for the next two days Nita and Nathalie were as busy as bees, drilling the children, making posters to feature the event at the different hotels, and then motoring to each one, and tacking them up, after getting the desired permission, so that the affair would be well advertised.
The boys and Van Darrell, with the help of some friends of Nita’s at the Sunset Hill House, the morning of the event decorated the Tea-House with greens, goldenrod, and flags. Sam assisted by erecting a small platform so gaudily festooned with red, blue, and white bunting that Nita said it was a regular “call to the colors,” as she stood off and surveyed his work. Chairs, rustic seats, in fact, everything that could be used for a seat was now brought into the room, while the veranda was not only decorated with bunting and Japanese lanterns, the posts being twined with the national colors in crêpe paper, but filled with small tea-tables and chairs.
At the hour designated for the performance to begin—to the girls’ delight, the room was crowded—Janet began to play softly on the piano, suddenly breaking into “Hail Columbia,” then a patriotic march, following these selections with “The Royal March of Italy,” the “Lorraine March” and several other well-known favorites either of the Americans or the Allies, ending with France’s adored march, “Sambre et Meuse.”
The boys, in their khaki suits, each one carrying his gun, now marched before the audience. They were headed by Sheila, who, as a little Goddess of Liberty, acted as the color-bearer. As she stepped to one side of the stage and stood at attention, the boys saluted the flag and then repeated the oath of allegiance.