rehearsal

"now, phronsie," said polly, on her knees before the princess, who was slowly evolving into "a

thing of beauty," "do hold still just a minute, dear. there," as she thrust in another pin, then turned

her head critically to view her work, "i do hope that is right."

phronsie sighed. "may i just stretch a wee little bit, polly," she asked timidly, "before you pin it

up? just a very little bit?"

"to be sure you may," said polly, looking into the flushed little face; "i'll tell you, you may walk

over to the window and back, once; that'll rest you and give me a chance to see what is the matter

with that back drapery."

so phronsie, well pleased, gathered up the embyro robe of the princess and moved off, a

bewildering tangle of silver spangles and floating lace, drawn over the skirt of one of mrs.

whitney's white satin gowns.

"there ought to be a dash of royal purple somewhere," said polly, sitting on the floor to see her go,

and resting her tired hands on her knees. "now where shall i get it, and where shall i put it when i

do have it?" she wrinkled up her eyebrows a moment, lost in thought over the momentous

problem. "oh! i know," and she sprang up exultingly. "phronsie, won't this be perfectly lovely?

we can take that piece of tissue paper auntie gave you, and i can cut out little knots and sashes. it

is so soft, that in the gaslight they will look like silk. how fine!"

"can't i be a princess unless you sew up that purple paper?" asked phronsie, pausing suddenly to

look over her shoulder in dismay at polly.

"why, yes, you can be, of course," said polly, "but you can't be as good a one as if you had a dash

of royal purple about you. what's a bit of tissue paper to the glory of being a princess?" she cried,

with sparkling eyes. "dear me, i wish i could be one."

"well, you may have it, polly," said phronsie with a sigh, "and then afterwards i'll rip it all off and

smooth it out, and it will be almost as good as new."

"i think there won't be much left of it when the play is over," cried polly with a laugh; "why, the

dragons are going to carry you off to their cave, you know, and you are to be rescued by the

knight, just think, phronsie! you can't expect to have such perfectly delightful times, and come out

with a quantity of tissue paper all safe. something has to be scarified to royalty, child."

phronsie sighed again. but as polly approved of royalty so highly, she immediately lent herself to

the anticipations of the pleasure before her, smothering all lesser considerations.

"when you get your little silver cap on with one of auntie's diamond rings sewed in it, why, you'll

be too magnificent for anything," said polly, now pulling and patting with fresh enthusiasm, since

the "purple dash" was forthcoming.

"princesses don't wear silver caps with diamond rings sewed in them," observed phronsie wisely.

"of course not; they have diamonds by the bushel, and don't need to sew rings in their caps to

make them sparkle," said polly, plaiting and pinning rapidly, "but in dressing up for a play, we

have to take a poetic license. there, turn just one bit to the right, phronsie dear."

"what's poetic license?" demanded phronsie, wrenching her imagination off from the bushel of

diamonds to seize practical information.

"oh! when a man writes verses and says things that aren't so," said polly, her mind on the many

details before her.

"but he ought not to," cried phronsie, with wide eyes, "say things that are not so. i thought poets

were always very good, polly."

"oh! well, people let him," said polly, carelessly, "because he puts it into poetry. it would never

do in prose; that would be quite shocking."

"oh!" said phronsie, finding the conversation some alleviation to the fitting-on process.

"now this left side," said polly, twisting her head to obtain a good view of the point in question,

"is just right; i couldn't do it any better if i were to try a thousand times. why won't this other one

behave, and fall into a pretty curve, i wonder?"

phronsie yawned softly as the brown eyes were safely behind her.

"i shall gather it up anyway, so," and polly crushed the refractory folds recklessly in one hand;

"that's the way mary gibbs's hat trimmings look, and i'm sure they're a complete success. oh!

that's lovely," cried polly, at the effect. "now, that's the treatment the whole drapery needs," she

added in the tone of an art connoisseur. "oh!"

a rushing noise announced the approach of two or three boys, together with the barking of prince,

as they all ran down the wide hall.

"o dear, dear!" exclaimed polly, hurriedly pulling and pinning, "there come the boys to rehearse.

it can't be four o'clock," as the door opened and three members of the cast entered.

"it's quarter-past four," said jasper, laughing and pulling out his watch; "we gave you an extra

fifteen minutes, as you had such a lot to do. dear me! but you are fine, phronsie. i make my

obeisance to princess clotilde!" and he bowed low to the little silver and white figure, as did the

other two boys, and then drew off to witness the final touches.

"it's a most dreadful thing," cried polly, pushing back the brown waves from her brow, as she also

fell off to their point of view, "to get up a princess. i had no idea it was such a piece of work."

"you have scored an immense success," said jasper enthusiastically. "oh, phronsie! you will make

the hit of the season."

"you'll think it is even much nicer when it is done," said polly, vastly relieved that jasper had

given such a kind verdict. "it's to have a dash of royal purple on that right side, and in one of the

shoulder knots, and to catch up her train."

"that will be very pretty, i don't doubt," said jasper, trying to resolve himself into the cold critic,

"but it seems to me it is almost perfect now, polly."

"oh! thank you so much," she cried, with blooming cheeks. "how do you like it, clare and

bensie?"

"i can't tell," said ben, slowly regarding the princess on all sides; "it's so transforming."

"it's tiptop!" cried clare. "it out-princesses any princess i've ever imagined."

"well, it's a perfect relief," said polly, "to have you boys come in. i've been working so over it that

i was ready to say it was horrid. it's too bad, isn't it, that dick can't be here to-day to rehearse his

part?"

"to be sure," exclaimed jasper, looking around, "where is the princess's page?"

"he's gone to the dentist's," said polly, making a wry face. "auntie had to make the appointment

for this afternoon, and we couldn't put off the rehearsal; clare can't come any other time, you

know."

phronsie turned an anxious face to the window. "i hope he's not being hurt very much," she said

slowly.

"i don't believe he is," polly made haste to answer most cheerfully, "it was only one tooth, you

know, phronsie, to be filled. auntie says dr. porter told her the rest are all right."

but a cloud rested on the princess's face. "one tooth is something," she said.

"just think how nice it will be when it is all over, and dick comes scampering in," cried jasper,

with great hilarity.

"do climb up on the sofa, phronsie," urged polly, looking into the pale little face, "you must sit

down and rest a bit, you're so tired."

"i will read the prologue while she rests," said jasper.

"so you can," said polly. "take care, child," in alarm, "you mustn't curl up in the corner like that;

princesses don't ever do so."

"don't they?" said phronsie, flying off from the lovely corner, to straighten out again into the

dignity required; "not when they are little girls, polly?"

"no, indeed," said polly, with a rescuing hand among the silver spangles and lace; they must never

forget that they are princesses, phronsie. there now, you're all right."

"oh!" said phronsie, sitting quite stiffly, glad if she could not be comfortable, she could be a

princess.

"'gentle ladies and brave sirs,'" began jasper in a loud, impressive tone, from the temporary stage,

the large rug in front of the crackling hearth fire.

clare burst into a laugh. "see here now," cried jasper, brandishing his text at him, "if you

embarrass me like that, you may leave, you old dragon!"

"you ought to see your face," cried clare. "jap, you are anything but a hit."

"you'll be yet," declared jasper with a pretended growl, and another flourish of the manuscript.

"go on, do," implored polly, "i think it is lovely. clare, you really ought to be ashamed," and she

shook her brown head severely at him.

"if i don't quench such melodrama in the outset," said clare, "he'll ruin us all. fair ladies and brave

sirs," mimicking to perfection jasper's tones.

"thank you for a hint," cried jasper, pulling out his pencil. "i didn't say 'fair'; that's better than

'gentle.' i wish critics would always be so useful as to give one good idea. heigho! here goes

again:

"'fair ladies and brave sirs,

the player's art is to amuse,

instruct, or to confuse

by too much good advice,

but poorly given:

that no one follows, because, forsooth,

'tis thrown at him, neck and heels.

the drama, pure and simple, is forgot

in tugging in the moral'"?

"i thought you were going to alter 'tugging in' to something more elegant," said polly.

"lugging in," suggested clare, with another laugh.

"morals are always tugged in by the head and shoulders," said jasper. "why not say so?"

"we should have pretty much the whole anatomy of the human form divine, if you had your way,"

cried clare. "listen!

"'because, forsooth, 'tis thrown at him, neck and heels' and 'tugging in the moral, head and

shoulders.' now just add 'by the pricking of my thumbs,' etc., and you have them all."

jasper joined as well as polly and ben in the laugh at the prologue's expense, but phronsie sat

erect winking hard, her royal hands folded quite still in her lap.

"you're bound for a newspaper office, my boy," said jasper at length. "how you will cut into the

coming poet, and maul the fledgling of the prose writer! well, i stand corrected.

"'the drama pure and simple,

is forgot, in straining at the moral.'

"is that any better?" (to the audience.)

"yes, i think it is," said polly, "but i do believe it's time to talk more elegantly, jasper. it is due to

the people in the private boxes, you know."

"oh! the boxes are to have things all right before the play is over; never you fear, polly," said

jasper.

"'a poor presentment,

you will say we give;

but cry you mercy, sirs, and'"?

"i don't like 'cry you mercy,'" announced ben slowly, "because it doesn't seem to mean anything."

"oh! don't cut that out," exclaimed polly, clasping her hands and rushing up to ben. "that's my

pet phrase; you mustn't touch that, bensie."

"but it doesn't mean anything," reiterated ben in a puzzled way.

"who cares?" cried jasper defiantly. "a great many expressions that haven't the least significance

are put in a thing of this sort. padding, you know, my dear sir."

"oh!" said ben literally, "i didn't know as you needed padding. all right, if it is necessary." "it's

antique, and perfectly lovely, and just like shakespeare," cried polly, viewing ben in alarm.

"oh! let the bard of avon have one say in this production," cried clare. "go on, do, with your 'cry

you mercy.' what's next, jap?"

"are you willing, ben?" asked jasper, with a glance at polly.

"ye-- es," said ben, also gazing at the rosy face and anxious eyes, "it can go as padding, i

suppose."

"oh! i am so glad," exclaimed polly in glee, and dancing around the room. "and you won't be

sorry, i know, bensie; the audience will applaud that very thing i'm almost sure," which made

jasper sternly resolve something on the spot.

"well, i shall never be through at this rate," he said, whirling over the manuscript to find his place.

"oh! here i am:

"'but cry you mercy, sirs and ladies fair,

we aim but to be dragons,

not mortals posing for effect.

we have a princess, to be sure'"?

"i should think we have," interrupted clare with a glance over at the sofa. "goodness me, she's

fast asleep!"

"poor little thing, she is tired to death," cried polly remorsefully, while they all rushed over to the

heap of lace and spangles, blissfully oblivious of "prologues."

"do let her sleep through this piece of stupidity," said jasper, bundling up another satin skirt that

mrs. whitney had loaned for polly to make a choice from. "there," putting it under the yellow

head, "we'll call her when the dragons come on."

"take care," cried polly, with intercepting hand, "that's auntie's lovely satin gown."

"beg pardon," said jasper, relinquishing it speedily. "here's the sofa pillow, after all," dragging it

from its temporary retirement under the theatrical debris. "now let's get back to work; time is

going fast." in a lowered voice:

"'we have a princess, to be sure,

a sweet and gracious clotilde,

and a knight who does her homage,

but the rest of us

are fishy, scaly,

horny and altogether horrid,

and of very low degree

who scarce know why we are upon the boards,

except for your amusement,

so prithee'"?

"hold!" cried clare, "what stuff."

"give me an inch of time," cried jasper, hurrying on, "and i'll end the misery:

"'so prithee, be amused;

we're undone, if you are not,

and all our labor lost.

pray laugh, and shake your sides,

and say "'tis good;

i' faith, 'tis very good."

and we shall say

"your intellects do you credit."

and so we bid you a fond adieu,

and haste away to unshackle the dragons,

who even now do roar without.'"

clare threw himself into the part of the dragons, and forgetful of phronsie, gave a loud roar. polly

clapped her hands and tossed an imaginary bouquet as jasper bowed himself off.

"hush!" said ben, "you'll wake up phronsie," but it was too late; there she sat rubbing her eyes in

astonishment.

"oh! you darling," cried polly, running over to her, to clasp her in her arms, "i'm so sorry i tired

you all out, phronsie dear, do forgive me."

"i'm not tired," said phronsie, with dewy eyes. "has jasper got through reading? what was it all

about, polly?"

"indeed and i have finished," he cried with a yawn and throwing the manuscript on the table, "and

i don't know in the least what it is all about, phronsie."

"just a lot of dreadful words," said clare over in the corner, pulling at a heap of costumes on the

floor. "never mind; the horrible spell is broken; come on, you fellows, and tumble into your

dragon skins!"

with that the chief dragon deserted phronsie, and presently there resounded the rattle of the scales,

the clanking of chains, and the dragging about of the rest of their paraphernalia.

"now, phronsie," said jasper, coming back, half-within his dragon skin and gesticulating, "you see

that it's only i in this thing. look, dear! here goes in my head," and he pulled on the scaly

covering, observing great care to smile reassuringly the last thing before his countenance was

obscured.

phronsie screamed with delight and clapped her hands. "oh, jasper! let me have one on, do,

jasper! i'd much rather be a dragon than a princess. really and truly i would, jasper."

"i don't agree with you," said jasper, in a muffled voice. "phew! this is no end stuffy, fellows. i

can't stand it long."

"i'm all coming to pieces," said ben, turning around to regard his back where the scales yawned

fearfully.

"i'll run and ask mamsie to come and sew you up," cried polly, flying off. "she said she would

help, if we wanted her."