“Now, Dennis,” she said, “this is a dress rehearsal. You go through your part right!”
“Yes’m,” Dennie answered, feeling of the little black goatee stuck on his chin to see if it was on firm, and trying to keep his face straight.
When his turn came to enter, he got off his “Bon soir, Mademoiselle Parker” all right, and bowed over her hand without a snicker. But, just as he kissed her fingers, his goatee came off and fell to the floor. Everybody laughed, except Lucy. She was mad at him, because she wanted the play to be a great success, and before he could lift his face, she brought her hand up quickly and slapped his cheek a good, sounding whack.
Dennie jumped back, surprised. Then he picked up his goatee, while Lucy stamped her foot. “You great clumsy—boy!” she exclaimed.
“Serves you right, Dennis,” said the teacher.
“Well, I can’t help it if it won’t stick,” Dennie answered. “Gee, I’ll bite your old hand next time!” he muttered to Lucy.
She ignored him, and the rehearsal proceeded. Art entered next, with Mary Pearson on his arm. Mary dropped a courtesy, and Art bowed.
The teacher clapped her hands for the rehearsal to stop. “Oh, Arthur,” she said, “don’t bow as if you had a ramrod down your back!”
“Well, I feel’s if I had,” said Art.
“But don’t act so!” the teacher laughed. “Now, try it again.”