couldn't afford it.
He died and left his heirs a lot,
But no tall shaft proclaims the spot
In which he lies--his children thought
They couldn't afford it.

The Play's the Thing[B]

BY GEORGE MADDEN MARTIN.

(_Arranged by Maude Herndon and Grace Kellam._)

It was the day of the exhibition. Miss Carrie, teacher of the Third
Reader Class, talked in deep tones--gestures meant sweeps and circles.
Since the coming of Miss Carrie, the Third Reader Class lived, as it
were, in the public eye, for on Fridays books were put away and the
attention given to recitations and company. _No_ other class had these
recitations, and the Third Reader was envied. Its members were pointed
out and gazed upon, until one realized one was standing in the garish
light of fame. The other readers, it seemed, longed for fame and
craved publicity, and so it came about that the school was to have an
exhibition with Miss Carrie's genius to plan and engineer the whole.
For general material Miss Carrie drew from the whole school, but the
play was for her own class alone.

And this was the day of the exhibition.

Hattie and Sadie and Emmy Lou stood at the gate of the school. They had
spent the morning in rehearsing. At noon they had been sent home with
instructions to return at half-past two. The exhibition would begin at
three.

"Of course," Miss Carrie had said, "you will not fail to be on time."
And Miss Carrie had used her deepest tones.

It was not two o'clock, and the three stood at the gate, the first to
return. They were in the same piece. It was "The Play." In a play one
did more than suit the part.

In the play Hattie and Sadie and Emmy Lou found themselves the orphaned
children of a soldier who had failed to return from the war. It was a
very sad piece. Sadie had to weep, and more than once Emmy Lou had found
tears in her eyes, watching her.

Miss Carrie said Sadie showed histrionic talent. Emmy Lou asked Hattie
about it, who said it meant tears, and Emmy Lou remembered then how
tears came naturally to Sadie.

When Aunt Cordelia heard they must dress to suit the part she came to
see Miss Carrie, and so did the mamma of Sadie and the mamma of Hattie.

"Dress them in a kind of mild mourning," Miss Carrie explained, "not too
deep, or it will seem too real, and, as three little sisters, suppose we
dress them alike."

And now Hattie and Sadie and Emmy Lou stood at the gate ready for the
play. Stiffly immaculate whi