"Now, Perkins," and Perkins climbed to the high stool, which had been set in an armchair and formed the bow of the boat.
"If I falls, I falls," said Perkins, classically, "and my blood be on your head, sir," and while Judy writhed in agonies of laughter, Launcelot turned off the lights and adjusted the great lantern, which was to throw on the barge the effect of moonlight, while all else was to be in shadow.
The illusion from the front was perfect. Even the green piano cover with its dots of white cotton foamed up around the barge like real waves.
"How lovely she is," whispered all the children, as Anne lay there so still and quiet, with her fair hair streaming over the blackness of the bier.
"I don't like it. I don't like it," whimpered Bobbie Green, whose imagination was a thing to be reckoned with. "I don't like it. Anne, oh, Anne—"
And Anne's tender heart could not withstand that cry of fear.
"I'm all right, darling," she said, right out, and then the tension was broken, and all the children laughed, with relief, as Elaine sat up smiling and waving her hand to them.
"Bobbie Shafto" came next and was a dig at Tommy.
Judy's great marine picture made the background, and on the shore little Mary Morrison bade little Jimmie Jones "Good-bye" with heartrending sobs. But this Bobbie Shafto never went to sea. As picture followed picture, he was shown pulling at a rowing machine, sailing toy ships in a tub, fishing in a pail, and digging for treasure in a tiny sand pile—and after each funny scene, the curtain would drop, and tiny Mary Morrison would come to the front and wail:
"Tommy Shafto's gone to sea,
Silver buckles on his knee,
He'll come back and marry me,
Pretty Tommy Shafto!"