ught hard to pose in that character, and was quieted only by being
allowed to play the dead squaw, which all the boys told him he ought
easily to see was the more romantic part, besides being one in which he
could by no chance make any mistake.

The place selected for the entertainment was the lecture-room of the
Presbyterian church, and the boys had therefore to give up their darling
project of devoting half an hour of the evening to amateur negro
minstrelsy, for one of the deacons said that while he sometimes doubted
that even an organ was a proper musical instrument for use in sacred
buildings, he certainly was not going to tolerate banjos and bones. This
decision was a great disappointment to Benny Mallow, who had been
selected by the managers to perform upon the tambourine, but in the
revision of the programme Benny was assigned to duty in a tableau as a
little fat goblin, and this so tickled his fancy that he did not suffer
long by the disappointment.

At last the eventful night arrived. Some of the boys did not leave the
lecture-room at all after the last rehearsal, not even to get their
suppers, for fear they should be late, and those who reached the room
barely in time to take their parts had all they could do to squeeze
through the crowd that blocked the doors and filled the aisles. The
spectacle of so crowded a house raised the boys to a high pitch of
excitement, which was increased by various peeps from the curtains that
served as dressing-rooms at the Beantassel children, who by some
thoughtful soul had been provided with free seats in the extreme front
bench; there they were, all but the baby; they had been provided with
clothing which, though old, was far more sightly than the rags they
usually wore, and although they did not seem as much at ease as some
others among the spectators, their eyes stood so very open, then and
throughout the evening, that even Joe Appleby, who had reluctantly
consented to pose, in his best clothes, with gloves, cane, and high hat,
as Young America in a tableau of "The Nations," agreed with himself that
the exhibition was rather a meritorious idea after all, and that even if
the boys did as badly as he knew they would, he was glad it was sure to
pay.

But the boys did not do badly; on the contrary, the general performance
would have been quite creditable to adults. The opening was somewhat
dismal; it was announced to consist of a duet for two flutes by Will
Palmer and Ned Jo