er, and the little boys and their friends went on as
scholars.

All the boys talked and shouted at once, acting their idea of a school
by flinging pea-nuts about, and scoffing at the master.

"They'll guess that to be 'row,'" said John Osborne in despair; "they'll
never guess 'P'!"

The next scene was gorgeous. Solomon John, as a Turk, reclined on John
Osborne's army-blanket. He had on a turban, and a long beard, and all
the family shawls. Ann Maria and Elizabeth Eliza were brought in to him,
veiled, by the little boys in their Hindoo costumes.

This was considered the great scene of the evening, though Elizabeth
Eliza was sure she did not know what to do,--whether to kneel or sit
down; she did not know whether Turkish women did sit down, and she could
not help laughing whenever she looked at Solomon John. He, however,
kept his solemnity. "I suppose I need not say much," he had said, "for I
shall be the 'Turk who was dreaming of the hour.'" But he did order
the little boys to bring sherbet, and when they brought it without ice
insisted they must have their heads cut off, and Ann Maria fainted, and
the scene closed.

"What are we to do now?" asked John Osborne, warming up to the occasion.

"We must have an 'inn' scene," said Elizabeth Eliza, consulting her
letter; "two inns, if we can."

"We will have some travellers disgusted with one inn, and going
to another," said John Osborne.

"Now is the time for the bandboxes," said Solomon John, who, since
his Turk scene was over, could give his attention to the rest of the
charade.

Elizabeth Eliza and Ann Maria went on as rival hostesses, trying to draw
Solomon John, Agamemnon, and John Osborne into their several inns.
The little boys carried valises, hand-bags, umbrellas, and bandboxes.
Bandbox after bandbox appeared, and when Agamemnon sat down upon his the
applause was immense. At last the curtain fell.

"Now for the whole," said John Osborne, as he made his way off the stage
over a heap of umbrellas.

"I can't think why the lady from Philadelphia did not send me the
whole," said Elizabeth Eliza, musing over the letter.

"Listen, they are guessing," said John Osborne. "'D-ice-box.' I don't
wonder they get it wrong."

"But we know it can't be that!" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza, in agony.
"How can we act the whole if we don't know it ourselves?"

"Oh, I see it!" said Ann Maria, clapping her hands. "Get your whole
family in for the last scene."

Mr. and Mrs.