Five Little Peppers Midway Part 5

"Just think how nice it will be when it is all over, and d.i.c.k 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 embarra.s.s me like that, you may leave, you old dragon!"

"You ought to see your face," cried Clare. "j.a.p, you are anything but a hit."

"You'll be yet," declared Jasper with a pretended growl, and another flourish of the ma.n.u.script.

"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 p.r.i.c.king 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, j.a.p?"

"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 ma.n.u.script 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, h.o.r.n.y and altogether horrid, And of very low degree Who scarce know why we are upon the boards, Except for your amus.e.m.e.nt, 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.'"