“That’s Fred!” exclaimed Mrs. Stein.  “So he is certainly not with Rikli.”  And as the little girl’s shrieks grew louder she began to think something serious was the matter, and the two ladies started away in the direction of the sound.  Poor Rikli was indeed in a wretched plight.  She was standing in a ditch, covered quite to her neck in the muddy water, and holding up her arms above her head, in an effort to protect it from the many little green frogs that were sporting about her.  Aunty reached her first, and, taking the little girl by the arm, she quickly rescued her from her uncomfortable position.  As soon as Rikli found herself in safety, she exclaimed reproachfully:—­

“Why didn’t you come when I called you first?”

They did not stop to answer her, but hurried her into the house, and forthwith into the bath-tub without delay.  After the necessary scrubbing and cleansing were over, Rikli put her question again, and the explanation she received was likely to impress upon her the folly of unnecessary alarm, and the certainty that her cries would be unheeded as long as she persisted in uttering them so needlessly.

All this time Oscar was occupied with assembling his chorus in the place chosen for the festival, that the rehearsal might be conducted in due order, except the currant-wine and gingerbread, which naturally were reserved for the festival itself, which was to come off next day.  The stage was made of four posts, stuck into the ground, and covered with boards.

The moment for beginning the performance arrived; Feklitus mounted the platform.

“Highly respected gentlemen and brothers! now that we have sung together so well, let us rejoice together; and celebrate the event with a great feast, and all touch glasses together.”

With these words, spoken in a loud but rather hurried voice, Feklitus bowed to the company, and came down from the stage.

“Go on, go on with your speech!” shouted every one.

“Why, that’s all; and then we must all touch glasses,” said Feklitus, who was quite satisfied and elated at having got through so well.

But at his words arose a great uproar; the boys wanted more, and insisted on Feklitus’ going on.  Oscar alone said not a word; he was transfixed with one thought, that had been suggested by the first words of this brief speech.  “Now that we have sung!” To be sure, it had not occurred to him that to have a Musical Festival successful, there ought to be some music.  But it was not too late yet to repair the oversight.  Controlling his mortification at his blunder, he sprang to the platform, and tried to call the attention of the noisy crowd.

“Here, fellows, listen to me!  Be quiet!  I want to tell you something important!” and as the noise began to subside, he shouted:—­

“We must have some singing!  Who of you can sing?  We’ll find a song, and then learn it.  Who can sing?”

But no one came forward; no one could sing!  Feklitus declared that there was no need of singing; a speech, a procession, a banner, a collation; why did they want anything else?  But Oscar was determined to have a song, and suddenly he thought of Fani.  Where was Fani?  He could sing, and should sing.  But Fani was not to be found, and soon the assembly broke up; the members scattered, and the platform raised its head in solitary grandeur.