ocket," said Elizabeth Eliza, "in the
letter from the lady from Philadelphia. She sent me the parts of the
word. Solomon John is to be a Turk, but I don't yet understand the
whole of the word."

"You don't know the word and the people are all here!" said John
Osborne, impatiently.

"Elizabeth Eliza!" exclaimed Ann Maria, "Solomon John says I'm to be a
Turkish slave, and I'll have to wear a veil. Do you know where the
veils are? You know I brought them over last night."

"Elizabeth Eliza! Solomon John wants you to send him the large cashmere
scarf," exclaimed one of the little boys, coming in. "Elizabeth Eliza!
you must tell us what kind of faces to make up!" cried another of the
boys.

And the audience were heard meanwhile taking their seats on the other
side of the thin curtain.

"You sit in front, Mrs. Bromwich, you are a little hard of hearing; sit
where you can hear."

"And let Julia Fitch come where she can see," said another voice.

"And we have not any words for them to hear or see!" exclaimed John
Osborne behind the curtain.

"Oh, I wish we'd never determined to have charades!" exclaimed
Elizabeth Eliza. "Can't we return the money!"

"They are all here; we must give them something!" said John Osborne,
heroically.

"And Solomon John is almost dressed," reported Ann Maria, winding a
veil around her head.

"Why don't we take Solomon John's word 'Hindoos' for the first?" said
Agamemnon.

John Osborne agreed to go in the first, hunting the "hin," or anything,
and one of the little boys took the part of the hen, with the help of a
feather duster. The bell rang, and the first scene began.

It was a great success. John Osborne's Irish was perfect. Nobody
guessed it, for the hen crowed by mistake; but it received great
applause.

Mr. Peterkin came on in the second scene to receive the water-rates,
and made a long speech on taxation. He was interrupted by Ann Maria as
an old woman in a huge bonnet. She persisted in turning her back to the
audience, and speaking so low nobody heard her; and Elizabeth Eliza,
who appeared in a more remarkable bonnet, was so alarmed, she went
directly back, saying she had forgotten something. But this was
supposed to be the effect intended, and it was loudly cheered.

Then came a long delay, for the little boys brought out a number of
their friends to be browned for Hindoos. Ann Maria played on the piano
till the scene was ready. The curtain rose upon five brown boys done