“Then the old man and the children with him do some of the things they used to do in a city theater, and the country children do some of the things they do Friday afternoons at school.  And they all have a good time.  Then they hear about some poor people who live in a hospital, or some place like that, and they decide to get up a show to make money to give to the poor folks who haven’t had much joy in life.  So they give a little show, make some money and all ends happily.  How do you like that?”

No one spoke for a moment, and then Bunny cried: 

“Why—­why that’s just like you and—­and us, Mr. Treadwell!  It’s almost real—­like it is here.”

“Yes,” agreed the actor, “I thought I’d make it as real as possible, and as natural.  It will go better that way.  Do you like it?”

“Oh, it’s lovely!” said Sue.  “I hope Sadie West will speak the piece about a Dolly’s Prayer.”

“Yes, she speaks that very nicely,” said Mary Watson.

“Then we’ll have her do it in our little play,” decided Mr. Treadwell.  “And now I’ll start to work writing the play and we can soon begin to practice.”

“And we really can give the money to the Blind Home here, instead of to the Red Cross, maybe,” said Bunny.  “Once mother and some ladies got up an entertainment and they made ’most fifty dollars for the Blind Home.”

“I hope we can make as much,” said Lucile.  “It’s dreadful to be blind.  I feel so sorry for our Uncle Bill.  I wish we could find him.”

“And I wish we could find Uncle Simon and Aunt Sallie,” added Mart.  “But still we like it here,” he hastened to add, lest Bunny and Sue might think he and his sister did not care for all that Mr. and Mrs. Brown had done for them.

In the week that followed Mr. Treadwell, when he was not working in Mr. Brown’s office, keeping books, wrote away at the little play.  Mart, too, when he was not busy at the dock, helping Bunker Blue, did what he could to get ready for the show.  The children did not tell any one except their fathers and mothers what it was to be about.

“It must be a secret,” said Bunny Brown.  “Then everybody will buy a ticket to come and see it.”

“But where are we going to have the show?” asked Sue of Bunny one night.

“I don’t know,” Bunny answered.

“I must begin to look around for a place for you,” said Mr. Brown.  “I did think we could use the old moving picture theater, but that has been sold and is being torn down.  But we’ll find some place.  How are you coming on with the children’s play?” he asked the impersonator.

“Very well, I think,” was the answer.  “We’ll soon be ready for a trial, or rehearsal, as it is called.  Have you heard anything about the uncle and aunt of Mart and Lucile?” he asked.

“No,” replied Mr. Brown, “I haven’t.  I have written several letters hoping to get some word, but I haven’t as yet.  I can’t even find out where Mr. and Mrs. Jackson are.  They might have found the address of the children’s Aunt Sallie and Uncle Simon.  But Jackson seems to have vanished after his show failed.”