--such odd caps and
remarkable bonnets! Solomon John said they ought to have plenty of
bandboxes; if you only had bandboxes enough a charade was sure to go off
well; he had seen charades in Boston. Mrs.

Peterkin said there were plenty in their attic, and the little boys
brought down piles of them, and the back parlor was filled with
costumes.

Ann Maria said she could bring over more things if she only knew what
they were going to act. Elizabeth Eliza told her to bring anything she
had,--it would all come of use.

The morning came, and the boards were collected for the stage. Agamemnon
and Solomon John gave themselves to the work, and John Osborne helped
zealously. He said the Pan-Elocutionists would lend a scene also. There
was a great clatter of bandboxes, and piles of shawls in corners, and
such a piece of work in getting up the curtain! In the midst of it came
in the little boys, shouting, "All the tickets are sold, at ten cents
each!"

"Seventy tickets sold!" exclaimed Agamemnon.

"Seven dollars for the water-trough!" said Elizabeth Eliza.

"And we do not know yet what we are going to act!" exclaimed Ann Maria.

But everybody's attention had to be given to the scene that was going
up in the background, borrowed from the Pan-Elocutionists. It was
magnificent, and represented a forest.

"Where are we going to put seventy people?" exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin,
venturing, dismayed, into the heaps of shavings, and boards, and litter.

The little boys exclaimed that a large part of the audience consisted
of boys, who would not take up much room. But how much clearing and
sweeping and moving of chairs was necessary before all could be made
ready! It was late, and some of the people had already come to secure
good seats, even before the actors had assembled.

"What are we going to act?" asked Ann Maria.

"I have been so torn with one thing and another," said Elizabeth Eliza,
"I haven't had time to think!"

"Haven't you the word yet?" asked John Osborne, for the audience was
flocking in, and the seats were filling up rapidly.

"I have got one word in my pocket," said Elizabeth Eliza, "in the letter
from the lady from Philadelphia. She sent me the parts of the word.
Solomon John is to be a Turk, but I don't yet understand the whole of
the word."

"You don't know the word, and the people are all here!" said John
Osborne, impatiently.

"Elizabeth Eliza!" exclaimed Ann Maria, "Solomon John says I'm to be a
Turki