empty, and won't burn
twenty minutes. You don't want to perform in the dark, I suppose?"

"It ought to have been filled before!" grumbled Ardiune. "Here, give
me the paraffin can."

"Take care what you're doing! You're slopping into the cauldron!"

"I'm not!"

"But I saw you! We shall have to empty out the cauldron and wash it
and refill it."

"Nonsense!" interfered Raymonde. "There isn't time. Val, is that
lantern finished? Then hang it up, and come along and dress. We shall
have everybody arriving before we're half ready."

Almost every amateur concert begins late, and this was no exception to
the rule. By the time the coons had scrambled into their costumes, and
Fauvette had got her best lace-trimmed white petticoat fastened
adequately on to her blouse with safety-pins, and Katherine had
adjusted her tie to her satisfaction, and Muriel had induced her paper
hat to tilt at the right angle on her head, the audience was
clamouring for admission at the door of the barn, and making moral
remarks on the subject of punctuality.

"We're awfully sorry," panted Raymonde in excuse, undoing the padlock
which the coons had left fastened, and allowing the school to tramp
into the place of entertainment. "Your shillings, please! Yes, we're
taking the money first thing, instead of handing round the plate in
the interval. Where's the Bumble?"

"Just coming now, with Gibbie and Ma'm'selle."

The barn with its dark rafters, stable lanterns, and improvised
benches, certainly looked a most appropriate setting for a plantation
programme, and Miss Beasley glanced round with amused interest on her
arrival. She and the other mistresses were escorted to special posts
of honour, and the performance began without further delay. Everybody
admired the costumes; the red-and-white effect was quite charming,
especially when worn by all ten alike, and the paper hats with their
big rosettes gave a coquettish appearance that added to the piquancy
of the songs. There could, of course, be no piano accompaniment, but
the girls made up for it by a liberal clashing of cymbals, rattling
of castanets, and jingling of tambourines. They were as "cute" and
"coony" as they knew how to be, putting a great deal of action into
the songs, and adding a few comic asides. At Raymonde's suggestion,
they had decided during the performance of "The Darkies' Frolic" to
dance a lively kind of combined fox-trot and cake-walk measure to
illustrate the words. They ha