odd-shaded blue eyes
can't light up and sparkle with diff'rent expressions, you should have
seen hers. When she finishes and springs that folksy, chummy sort of
smile--well, take it from me, the hand she gets ain't any polite,
halfway, for-charity's-sake applause. They just went to it strong,
gloves or no gloves.

"Isn't she bully?" whispers Vee.

"Uh-huh!" says I. "We take back the pooh-poohs, eh?"

The next number was diff'rent, but just as good. At the finish of the
fourth a wide old dame in the middle row unpins a cluster of orchids
from her belt and aims 'em enthusiastic at the stage. Course they swats
a dignified old boy three seats beyond me back of the ear; but that
starts the floral offerings. I gets a quick nudge from Vee.

"Go on, Torchy," she whispers. "Do it now!"

We hadn't been sure first off that we'd have the nerve to carry the
thing that far; but we'd come all primed. So I yanks the tissue paper
off a dozen long-stemmed American beauts that I'd smuggled in under my
coat, Vee ties on the card, and I tosses the bunch so accurate it lands
almost on Miss Hampton's toes.

Course any paid performer would have been tickled to death to have a
crowd break loose like that; but Miss Hampton acts a bit dazed by it
all. For a second or so she stands there gazin' sort of puzzled, bitin'
her upper lip. Then she springs that quirky, good-natured smile of hers,
bows a couple of times, and proceeds to help the accompanist gather up
the flowers and stack 'em on the piano.

When she comes to our big bunch she swoops it up graceful, and is about
to pile it with the rest when her eyes must have caught the card. Just
as easy and natural as if she'd been at home, she turns it over and
reads the name.

And, say, for a minute there I thought we had bust up the show. Talk
about goin' pink! Why, you could see the strawb'rry tint spread over her
cheeks and up into her ears! Blamed if her eyes don't moisten up too,
and she sweeps over the audience with a quick nervous glance, like she
was tryin' to single someone out! She don't seem to know what to do
next. Once she turns as if she meant to beat it into the wings; but as
the applause simmers down the pianist strikes up the beginning of an
encore. So she had to stick it out.

Her voice is more or less shaky at the start; but pretty soon she
strikes her gait again and sings the last verse better than she had
before. Then comes an intermission, and when Miss Hampton appears