CHAPTER XIII.
THE CONCERT.
The concert was a great affair. They had not only the singing andplaying from the musical pupils, but refreshments afterward and a littlereception. Many of the townspeople came and the boys from Hill-Top. OurAssembly Hall was full to overflowing. Miss Jane Cox was in a highlynervous state.
"I have two pupils who will sing flat," she confided to me, "and if theydo it to-night, I'll die of mortification."
"Well, Annie Pore is going to do you credit, anyhow, I feel sure," Isaid, hoping Miss Cox would take a more cheerful view.
"Yes, I am looking to her to save the day. Have you seen her? She looksbeautiful."
I had seen her; in fact, I had hooked her up. My slippers fitted finelyand Annie's dress was without doubt the best-looking one on the stagethat evening.
Mabel Binks headed the programme with a flashy selection on the piano.She was in her element, showing off. Everything about her proclaimed _ledernier cri_ of fashion. Even her hair was the latest creation of twistsand rolls. Her hands were covered with rings and her arms had severalbracelets in the form of snakes coiling around them. These rings andbracelets had a way of clicking ever so slightly but just enough toaccentuate the effect that her performance was a purely mechanical one.
"Pianola," whispered Dee to me. Dee and I had captured dear old CaptainLeahy and made him sit between us. The old fellow was in fine featherand full of jokes. Miss Peyton smiled approval when she saw that we hadtaken care of her old friend, who always came to the schoolentertainments by her especial invitation.
"And do ye call that music? I'd rather hear 'Sweet bye and bye' playedon the whistle of an engine by a freight engineer on our line than thatrattle bang. The freight engineer puts some sowl into his worrk, somemeaning. He wants to let his frinds know he is a-cooming home, and hiswife to know that 'tis toime to put on the frying pan and get the pot tob'iling. But that, what does that mean? Nothing but nimble fingers.There's no heart in it,--just noise."
We heartily agreed with the old man, but at the close of Mabel'sperformance there was such a storm of applause from the Juniors who wereher especial admirers that the perfunctory clapping from the rest of theaudience was completely drowned. She bowed and smiled and rattled herbangles and then sat down and played "Annie Laurie" with her foot on theloud pedal all the time, and with all the variations possible to weavearound the beautiful old air.
"Now isn't that too Mabel Binksy for anything?" hissed Dum in my ear.She was right behind us sitting next to Harvie Price, who had sought usout on his arrival at Gresham. "She knows perfectly well that Annie Poreis to sing 'Annie Laurie,' and she chose that for her encoredeliberately and without the knowledge of Miss Cox or the piano teacher,either. Cat!"
"And why should ye insult poor pussy so, Miss Tucker?" asked theCaptain, who had overheard Dum's remark. "I haven't a cat to me name whowould do such a trick."
Annie followed Mabel immediately. I wondered if she would be upset byMabel's having just played her song, but she was not a whit. Shewhispered to Miss Cox, who was to play her accompaniment and theyevidently decided to change the program.
As Annie came on the stage, I verily believe half of the girls did notat first recognize her. Her dress had that unmistakable air that a gooddressmaker can give, and twenty years had not diminished the style; butit was Annie's walk and manner that astonished everyone, even her bestfriends. Could this be the same, tearful little Annie? She wasn't reallylittle, but I always had thought of her as small just because she seemedto need protection. She was quite as well grown as the Tuckers and alittle larger than I was. Her carriage had dignity, and there was apoise and ease to her that is rare in a school girl. Miss Cox played theopening bars to Tom Moore's beautiful and touching song, "Believe me ifall those endearing young charms," and Annie sang with the simplicityand confidence of a great artist.
Believe me, if all those endearing young charms, Which I gaze on so fondly to-day, Were to change by to-morrow and fleet in my arms, Like fairy gifts fading away, Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art, Let thy loveliness fade as it will, And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart Would entwine itself verdantly still.
It is not while beauty and youth are thine own, And thy cheek unprofaned by a tear, That the fervor and faith of a soul may be known, To which time will but make thee more dear! No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close, As the sunflower turns to her god when he sets The same look which she turned when he rose.
There is something in that song that touches everyone, old and young. AsAnnie finished, for a moment there was perfect silence and then such anovation as the little English girl did have! Old Captain Leahy beat hispeg leg on the floor. "Forgetting me manners in me enthusiasm," hedeclared. Annie bowed and smiled, no more flustrated than Alma Gluckwould have been.
"Did you ever see such stage presence?" whispered Dee. "Why, she is moreat home there than we are in 117 in our kimonos."
"That's because she loves to sing and knows she can do it," and at therisk of being considered Annie's claque, I started fresh applause whichwas taken up by the whole audience; and after another whisperedconference with Miss Cox, Annie sang again. This time it was "Bonnie,sweet Bessie, the maid of Dundee." These were songs her mother hadtaught her, and I could almost fancy the spirit of the mother hadentered into the daughter.
"I could almost see her mother as she sang," Harvie Price said to melater on. "I believe Annie's voice is going to be stronger than hermother's and it has the same note of pathos in it. Why, it was all Icould do to keep from sobbing when she sang 'Sweet Bessie.' And did yousee Shorty? Why, Shorty had his face buried in his hands, and now hepretends he has caught a bad cold! Isn't she pretty, too? The old manmust have loosened up some to get that swell dress for her. Grandfatherwrote me the other day that Mr. Pore is so economical these days that hewon't go to church because he does not want to part with his nickel. Hesays he is making money, too, on the store, since there is absolutely nocompetition at the Landing."
"I am so glad you liked her dress," I answered, nearly dead to tell thisnice, sympathetic boy all about it; but keeping to my role of FatherConfessor, I naturally said nothing about how she came by it.
"I am hoping I can spend part of next summer with my grandfather,"continued Harvey. "You know my Governor and his Father fell out aboutpolitics and I had to stop going there, but, thank goodness, they havemade up now. Father would vote for Roosevelt, while Grandfather thinksanybody belonging to him must be a Democrat. And not long ago Fatherdecided that President Wilson was, after all, about the best Presidentwe have ever had, so he wrote to Grandfather and said he was sorry hehad ever voted for a Republican; and now the row is over and the familyis reunited. Grandfather is very arbitrary and of course it is hard tolive with him, but he is the kindest and most generous old man, and Itruly love him."
"Annie Pore says he is charming and delightful and that her mother caredso much for him," I said, feeling that that much of Annie's talk with meit would be all right to repeat. This conversation with Harvie was afterthe concert when we were having refreshments in the Gymnasium. Theconcert had gone off very well. Miss Cox was jubilant because her pupilswho would sing flat had refrained for the occasion. Miss Cox herself hadsung delightfully and had won the heart of old Captain Leahy by giving"The Wearing of the Green" as an encore.
When the programme was all over and everyone had done the best shecould, Miss Peyton made a little speech and said that by especialrequest from some of the older guests Miss Annie Pore was to sing "AnnieLaurie."
That was really the treat of the evening. We were delighted because itmade Mabel Binks so mad.
"I am some weary of that sob stuff from 'Orphan Annie,'" I heard her sayto one of the Hill-Top boys.
"Why, I think it is great!" was his unsympa
thetic reply. "And what alittle beauty she is, too!"
Once off the stage, Annie's shyness returned in full force, but it soonwore off under the genial good fellowship of the Tuckers and MaryFlannigan, and Harvie's big-brother air of pride in her success, andShorty's funny reproaches for making him catch such a bad cold. Shelooked very happy, and not even Mabel Binks could mar her cheerfulness,although she plainly heard Mabel say to a Junior: "I wonder who lent herthat dress. It certainly looks familiar to me and anyone could see itwas shortened for the occasion."
My stitches were not so small as they might have been!