ash up tight."
"They won't mind doing that in a good cause."
"The Dramatic Society ought to take an innings, and provide at least
half the program."
"They'll jump at the opportunity. I believe they have something quite
prepared, and have been yearning for an audience."
"Then by all means let them have one."
"At sixpence a head," added practical Marjorie; "we ought easily to be
able to sell sixpenny tickets."
Everybody took up the idea with enthusiasm. The difficulty was not so
much to find helpers as to decide who was to have the honor of
performing. There were many heart-burnings before the program was
finally fixed. It was decided that a musical selection should be given
first, followed by a piece by the Dramatic students. To cut these to
reasonable limits needed all Linda's discretion, tact and firmness.
"You can't have an entertainment beginning at three, and going on till
midnight," she urged, as the various desired items were submitted to
her. "You'd have to hire ambulances to take your exhausted audience
home! Very sorry, but we must keep some of the things for a future
occasion."
Linda, being wise in her generation, and having an eye to the sale of
tickets, insisted that the Lower School should take a share in the
performance.
"Who wants to bother to hear the kids?" objected Grace Olliver, who, by
the bye, was a member of the "Dramatic," and therefore not entirely
disinterested.
"If we don't bother with the kids, they mayn't bother to come and bring
friends, and we should look silly if we didn't sell all our tickets! Let
them do their flag display, and sing their Empire song. That will
content them and their mothers, and leaves quite time enough for other
people."
Miss Bishop allowed a special Wednesday afternoon to be set aside for
the entertainment; the tickets sold briskly, and expectation ran high.
All concerned in the program kept their parts a dead secret, but items
leaked out, and the wildest rumors were afloat. It was whispered that
some of the Governors were to be present, and even that Miss Bishop
would perform a sword dance, though not the most callow of juniors
really consented to swallow such an astounding piece of information. The
uncertainty as to what was in store, however, added largely to the
pleasurable anticipation, and though the Dramatic Society rehearsed with
locked door, and the keyhole carefully stopped up, juvenile spies, by
hoisting one another up to the level
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