డే శ్రీదేవి చాట్

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The Wopp parlor was seldom entered, except on very special occasions or when Mrs. Wopp with formality and no undue haste dusted the furniture. The room had an air of solemnity and gloom, absent in the cheerful dining-room where the family usually sat. A homemade rag carpet covered the floor. Six slippery, horsehair chairs, one of them a rocker, and a horsehair couch, which did not invite confidence, were ranged stiffly around the sides of the room. In one corner was an ancient organ, wheezy and querulous with neglect, and in another stood a lofty what-not, on whose numerous shelves were deposited the family treasures. Here, was a woolly lamb at one time beloved of Moses; there his tin savings bank. Stiffly upright stood Betty’s wax doll Hannah, seldom played with and then only for a few minutes at a time. Mrs. Wopp was represented by a few shell boxes and a match box of china flanked by a sleek china cat.,

The curtain fell a second time to still heartier applause; and the long wait between the acts was forgotten in discussion and approval. The richest people in town had aided Edith with her costuming and properties, that thus every penny of the receipts might be saved for the great purpose. They had brought out all their stores of rich fabric, fine lace, jewels, and ornaments, for the small mummers; and the effect was entrancing.,

Bess, an only child, was usually present at the[59] frequent entertainments her parents gave, and was familiar with some of the more formal table customs. She wished Billy’s dinner to have every dignity, and to this end rose and proposed a toast to him. They drank it standing, with cheers. And Billy, accustomed to having the largest voice in every noise, stood and joined lustily; till Jackson, who helped his father at the catering for lodge banquets, and knew a thing or two, reached behind Jean and pulled the back of Billy’s coat violently. “Pst! Set down!” he hissed, tragically.,

He sat by the table in his dressing-room with angry storm-swept countenance. He had been capturing loud plaudits with his rag-time, until intoxicated with success, he swept into a tornado of music by Moskowski. The applause died away; two ladies in the front row began chatting. The enraged artist jumped from the piano-stool, and shouting “Pigs!” raced from the platform.

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A gentle rap halted his reflections, a sweet voice asked to come in; and in a moment there was a rose-leaf touch on his cheek.,

There was room on the slip of paper for only this last item, so numerous had been the demands, during this busy day, on Mr. Wopp’s memory.,

“Oh that is a little girl visiting us. My wife’s cousin is spending a week in Calgary and has brought an animated bunch of Alberta sage-brush with her.”,

“All this turnin’ is good for the liver too you know,” she continued, as her son’s vinegary expression remained unaltered.