Half a Dozen Girls | Page 6

clumps of purple and white lilac bushes whose topmost blossoms peeped curiously in at the chamber windows. Such houses are only found in New England, but there they abound with their broad front "stoops," the long slant of their rear roofs, where a ladder is firmly fixed, to serve in case of fire, and the great, low rooms grouped around the immense chimney in the middle. The Hapgood house had been in the family for generations, and was kept in such an excellent state of repair that it bade fair to outlast many of the more recent houses of the town. A wing had been built out at the side; but even with this modern addition, no one needed to glance up at the date on the chimney--sixteen hundred and no- matter-what--to assure himself of the great age of the stately old house before him.
Up in the Hapgood attic a serious consultation was going on.
"Now, girls," Polly Adams began solemnly, "'most half of our vacation has gone, and I think we ought to do something before it's over."
"Aren't we doing something this very minute, I should like to know?" inquired Molly Hapgood, who had felt privileged, in her capacity as hostess, to throw herself down on the old bed which occupied one corner of the garret.
Polly frowned on such levity.
"I don't mean that, Molly, and you know it. What I think is, that we should get together regularly every two or three days and do something special. Aunt Jane is in lots of clubs and things, and-- "
"I've heard it said," interrupted Jean Dwight solemnly, "that Aunt Jane spent so much time doing good outside that she never had a chance to be good at home." "Now, Jean, that isn't fair," said Polly laughing. "You know I'd be the very last one to hold up Aunt Jane as an example, only she has such good times with her everlasting old people that I thought we might do something like it."
"Which do you propose to do," asked Molly disrespectfully, "start a society for the improvement of the jail or open a mission at the poor-house to teach Miss Bean some manners?"
"Let's have a dramatic club, and get up a play," suggested the fourth member of the group, who was seated on a dilapidated hair- covered trunk under the open window, regardless of the strong east wind which now and then lifted a stray lock of her long yellow hair and blew it forward across her cheek.
"What a splendid idea, Florence!" said Jean, rapturously bouncing about in her seat on the foot of the bed. "How does that suit you, Polly?"
"We might do that, for one thing," assented Polly cautiously; "but oughtn't we to try something a little--well, a little improving, too." "I'd like to know if that wouldn't be improving?" asked Molly. "It would teach us to act, and then, if we wanted, we could charge an admission fee and raise some money."
"I think it would be splendid, girls," said Polly, in spite of herself carried away by the prospect, and forgetting her own plan. "What shall we take?"
"Let's take 'Uncle Tom's Cabin,'" said Jean. "We could make it over into a play easily enough, and Florence would be just the one for Eva. Alan could be Uncle Tom, you know."
"I think we could get something better than that," remarked Florence, in some disgust. "If I'm Eva, I'll have to die, and I don't know the first thing about that."
"Oh, that's easy enough," answered Molly, with the air of one who had experience; "just stiffen yourself out and fall over. But I don't believe you could ever get Alan to act."
"Why not take a ready-made play?" asked Polly. "It would save ever so much work."
"What is there?" said Molly, sitting up to discuss the matter.
"We don't want any Shakespeare," added Jean; "that's all killing, and Florence doesn't want to go dead, you know."
"I'll tell you what, girls," said Molly, as if struck with a sudden idea, "we'll have an original play, and Jean shall write it."
Florence and Polly applauded the suggestion, while Jean groaned,--
"I can't, girls. I never could in this world."
"Yes, you can," returned Molly, who had firm faith in her friend's ability. "You go right to work on it, and you ought to get it all done in a week or two, so we can give it before school opens."
"And we want just five people in it," said Polly. "I know I can get Alan to act, if Molly can't."
Molly shrugged her shoulders incredulously, while Jean inquired, with the calmness of desperation,--
"What shall it be about?"
"John Smith and Pocahontas," replied Polly promptly. "He almost gets killed, and doesn't quite; so that will get the audience all stirred up, but save the trouble of dying."
"But that only needs three," observed