“Seventy tickets sold!” exclaimed Agamemnon.

“Seven dollars for the water-trough!” said Elizabeth Eliza.

“And we do not know yet what we are going to act!” exclaimed Ann Maria.

But everybody’s attention had to be given to the scene that was going up in the background, borrowed from the Pan-Elocutionists.  It was magnificent, and represented a forest.

“Where are we going to put seventy people?” exclaimed Mrs. Peterkin, venturing, dismayed, into the heaps of shavings and boards and litter.

The little boys exclaimed that a large part of the audience consisted of boys, who would not take up much room.  But how much clearing and sweeping and moving of chairs was necessary before all could be made ready!  It was late, and some of the people had already come to secure good seats even before the actors had assembled.

“What are we going to act?” asked Ann Maria.

“I have been so torn with one thing and another,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “I haven’t had time to think!”

“Haven’t you the word yet?” asked John Osborne, for the audience was flocking in, and the seats were filling up rapidly.

“I have got one word in my pocket,” said Elizabeth Eliza, “in the letter from the lady from Philadelphia.  She sent me the parts of the word.  Solomon John is to be a Turk, but I don’t yet understand the whole of the word.”

“You don’t know the word and the people are all here!” said John Osborne, impatiently.

“Elizabeth Eliza!” exclaimed Ann Maria, “Solomon John says I’m to be a Turkish slave, and I’ll have to wear a veil.  Do you know where the veils are?  You know I brought them over last night.”

“Elizabeth Eliza!  Solomon John wants you to send him the large cashmere scarf,” exclaimed one of the little boys, coming in.  “Elizabeth Eliza! you must tell us what kind of faces to make up!” cried another of the boys.

And the audience were heard meanwhile taking their seats on the other side of the thin curtain.

“You sit in front, Mrs. Bromwich, you are a little hard of hearing; sit where you can hear.”

“And let Julia Fitch come where she can see,” said another voice.

“And we have not any words for them to hear or see!” exclaimed John Osborne behind the curtain.

“Oh, I wish we’d never determined to have charades!” exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza.  “Can’t we return the money!”

“They are all here; we must give them something!” said John Osborne, heroically.

“And Solomon John is almost dressed,” reported Ann Maria, winding a veil around her head.

“Why don’t we take Solomon John’s word ‘Hindoos’ for the first?” said Agamemnon.

John Osborne agreed to go in the first, hunting the “hin,” or anything, and one of the little boys took the part of the hen, with the help of a feather duster.  The bell rang, and the first scene began.

It was a great success.  John Osborne’s Irish was perfect.  Nobody guessed it, for the hen crowed by mistake; but it received great applause.