not to admit Julia Crosby to the
freshman party. But, since she was Miriam's guest, what else was there
to do?

"We shall be only heaping coals of fire on her head at any rate," hinted
Jessica, "and that certainly ought to make her feel worse than if she
had been left out."

After everyone was comfortably seated three loud raps were heard from
behind the folding doors. Some one began to play "The Funeral March of a
Marionette" on the piano, and the doors slid slowly back.

There was a murmur of surprise and wonder.

Two curtains had been stretched across the door opening above and below
and two hung down at each side, leaving an oblong space in the middle in
which stood a little doll theater nearly a yard and a half long and a
yard high. A row of footlights across the miniature stage presently
blossomed into light, and the freshman girls smiled as they recognized
some of those same little bulbs that had served to illuminate the
pumpkin face of Miss Leece's effigy. The music ceased and the curtains
rolled back. There sat Cinderella by the kitchen fire, very stiff and
straight, but weeping audibly with her little fists in her eyes. She was
ten inches high and, on careful examination, it could be seen that two
threads attached to her arms, and another to the back of her neck, made
it possible for her to move about and use her hands in a remarkably
life-like manner.

Wild applause from the audience. Well there might be, for the scene was
perfect, from the old brick fireplace with an iron pot steaming on the
coals to the rows of shining pans and blue dishes on a shelf at the
side, all of which came from a toy shop, along with a little kitchen
bench and chairs.

The cruel sisters swept in, dressed for the ball. When they spoke there
were convulsive titters among the guests for the voices of the cruel
step-sisters were those of Nora and Hippy. Anne read the lines of
Cinderella so plaintively that Mrs. Gray shed a secret tear or two when
Cinderella was left alone in the gloomy old kitchen. When the fairy
godmother appeared, in a peaked red hat and a long red cape, it was
Jessica who spoke the lines in a sweet, musical voice. How Cinderella
rolled out the pumpkin and displayed six white mice in a trap, and how,
after a brief interval of total darkness, could be seen through the open
door a coach of gold in which sat Cinderella in a silken gown, need not
be related here. It all took place without a single slip and the dol