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"Well, she got it all in," said Mrs. Wiggs, in a relieved tone, as Europena was lifted down. After this, other little girls came forward and made some unintelligible remarks concerning Santa Claus. It was with some difficulty that they went through their parts, for Mr. Rothchild kept getting in the way as he calmly and uncompromisingly continued to hang cornucopias on the tree.
At last the Cabbage Patch understood what was going on. The roof rang with applause. Even Mr. Rothchild held aside his strings of pop-corn to let Marguerite pass out. "S' more! S' more!" was the cry. "Sing it ag'in!" Jake stepped before the curtain. "If our friends is willin'," he said, "we'll repeat over the last ak." Again Lovey Mary scored a triumph.
John put a match to the powder, a bright red light filled the room, and the audience, following the index-finger of the impassioned Mephisto, gazed into the placid, stupid faces of four meek little boys on the mourners' bench. Before the violent coughing caused by the calcium fumes had ceased, a vision in white squeezed past Mr. Rothchild and came slowly down to the edge of the platform.
"But you think ever'body's nice and good," complained Lovey Mary. "You never see all the meanness I do." "Don't I? I been watchin' old man Rothchild fer goin' on eleven year', tryin' to see some good in him, an' I never found it till the other day when I seen him puttin' a splint on Cusmoodle's broken leg. He's the savagest man I know, yit he keered fer that duck as tender as a woman.
Rothchild, who had arranged the tree for the last ten years, refused to have it moved from its accustomed place, which was almost in the center of the platform. He had been earnestly remonstrated with, but he and the tree remained firm. Mrs. Rothchild and all the little Rothchildren had climbed in by the window before the doors were open in order to secure the front seats.
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