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Page 20
"We will have some travelers disgusted with one inn, and going to
another," said John Osborne.
"Now is the time for the bandboxes," said Solomon John, who, since his
Turk scene was over, could give his attention to the rest of the
charade.
Elizabeth Eliza and Ann Maria went on as rival hostesses, trying to
draw Solomon John, Agamemnon and John Osborne into their several inns.
The little boys carried valises, hand-bags, umbrellas and bandboxes.
Bandbox after bandbox appeared, and when Agamemnon sat down upon his,
the applause was immense. At last the curtain fell.
"Now for the whole," said John Osborne, as he made his way off the
stage over a heap of umbrellas.
"I can't think why the lady from Philadelphia did not send me the
whole," said Elizabeth Eliza, musing over the letter.
"Listen, they are guessing," said John Osborne. "'_D-ice-box_.' I don't
wonder they get it wrong."
"But we know it can't be that!" exclaimed Elizabeth Eliza, in agony.
"How can we act the whole if we don't know it ourselves!"
"Oh, I see it!" said Ann Maria, clapping. "Get your whole family in for
the last scene."
Mr. and Mrs. Peterkin were summoned to the stage, and formed the
background, standing on stools; in front were Agamemnon and Solomon
John, leaving room for Elizabeth Eliza between; a little in advance,
and in front of all, half kneeling, were the little boys in their India
rubber boots.
The audience rose to an exclamation of delight, "the Peterkins!"
It was not until this moment that Elizabeth Eliza guessed the whole.
"What a tableau!" exclaimed Mr. Bromwich; "the Peterkin family guessing
their own charade."
A DOUBLE RIDDLE.[A]
BY J.G.H.
There is a word of music's own
That lifts the soul to see and do,--
A happy word, that leaps alone
From lips by pleasure touched anew,
Which, if it join thy parted name,
O Blessed Virgin! bears a curse,
Than which the fatal midnight flame,
Or fateful war, holds nothing worse!
What is this word, with baleful charm,
To change the sweetest name we know
To one surcharged with subtile harm?--
And what the strange, new name of woe?
And if you guess this riddle well,
And speak this word in answer true,
How may it lift--I pray you tell--
The tuneful soul to see and do?
[Footnote A: The answer will be given in "Letter-Box" of January
number.]
UNDER THE LILACS
BY LOUISA M. ALCOTT.
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