a Red Cross nurse, and sing – ”
“Oh, yes, and the boys in khaki can help make up the picture!”
“’Course they can. And another time, we’ll get up a ship scene, I don’t know just how yet, but I’ll plan it – ”
“We could have the mermaid come to the side of the ship.”
“Ah, coming around to the mermaid rôle, are you? Well, those schemes are all right. Now, what shall we choose for the first one?”
“Not soldiers or sailors. Let them see some stunning show first.”
“Oriental?”
“Yes, I guess so. Your idea of the juggler is splendid. He can come on the stage like those Hindoo fakirs, you know, – ”
“Yes, that’s what I meant.”
“You know, there’s not so very much room – ”
“Want to go over to Elise’s, and have it all in her casino?”
“N-no, – not at first, anyway. You see, Phil, I suppose it is nothing but pride and vain glory, – but I thought up this plan, – and I want to have it in my own home.”
“So you shall! I don’t blame you. If Elise wants to, let her get up something herself.”
“Probably she will. But I want mine here.”
“That’s all right, Patty-girl. Why, there’s plenty of room. We needn’t ask so very many guests, – say a dozen or so the first time, and see how it works out.”
“Oh, we could accommodate twenty or twenty-four, I think. You see we’d use these connecting rooms, and this room would hold about thirty chairs.”
“All right. Now, say we plan the scene. I’ve all that big chest full of Oriental costumes, you know, and we don’t want very much in the way of actual scenery. A couple of divans heaped with pillows, and some of those hookah pipes standing round – then, the people in costume, – there’s your setting, – see? Then, in comes your juggler, also in appropriate costume, and he does his tricks, and the people on the stage admire and applaud, and the people in the audience do likewise.”
“Fine! And afterward, we have a little feast, and a little dance, and maybe sing a song or two for a good-night chorus.”
“That’s the ticket! Now, for the list of those who take part, and a few details of that sort, and our preliminary work is done!”
CHAPTER V
A FIRE-EATER
The Monday night party was in full swing. A stage had been erected and the spectacle that was seen as the curtain rose was of “more than Oriental splendour.”
Heavy draperies, potted palms, strange braziers and lanterns, pillowed divans, – all formed a brilliant and interesting picture of an Eastern interior.
Richly garbed ladies sat at ease while slaves waved peacock feather fans above their bejeweled heads. Stalwart men stood about, picturesque in their embroidered tunics and voluminous mantles.
The movement of the scene increased. Slaves entered with baskets of fruits, musicians came and made weird music, and dancing girls appeared and gave graceful exhibitions of their art.
Patty was one of these. In a charming costume of thin, fluttering silks and gauzy veils, she went through the slow swaying steps of a characteristic dance, and enthralled the appreciative audience.
She had indeed achieved her desire to give her guests something different from the average evening entertainment. The young men in khaki and in blue, who sat watching, were breathlessly attentive and applauded loudly and often.
The whole assemblage was gay and merry. The elder Fairfields were excellent hosts, and chatted with the uniformed guests until even the shy ones felt at ease. Roger and Mona Farrington, too, assisted in this work of getting acquainted, and the result was a pleasant, chatty atmosphere and not merely a silent audience.
“Good work!” said Roger, approvingly, to a khakied youth, as Patty executed a difficult pirouette.
“You bet!” was the earnest reply. “I’ve seen some dancing, but never anything to beat that! Is she on the regular stage?”
“Oh, no. She’s the daughter of the house. But she’s a born dancer and has always loved the art.”
“Don’t wonder! She puts it all over anybody I ever saw! And the whole colouring, – the scene, you know, – well, it’ll be something to remember when I’m back in camp. A thing like that stays in your mind, you know, and I’ll shut my eyes and see those furling pink veils as plain, ’most, as I do now. What a beautiful girl she is.”
His tone was almost reverential, and Roger instinctively liked the simple straightforwardness of his comment.
“Yes, and as lovely as she is beautiful. She’s engaged to a Captain, and it’s hard luck that he has to be away from her.”
“It’s all of that! Hullo, look who’s here!”
Among the people on the stage there appeared a strange figure. It was a man of swarthy countenance, garbed in pure white draperies, so full and flowing, that he resembled the pictures of the prophets. He walked slowly to the centre of the stage, and made deep salaams to the characters there assembled, then turned and bowed low to the audience. His snow-white, coiled turban almost swept the floor as he gracefully bent in greeting. Then he rose, and began to chant a strange weird incantation.
An assistant brought a small tripod filled with various paraphernalia, and the juggler began his tricks.
They consisted of the most mystifying legerdemain and magical illusions, for the performer, as Philip had assured Patty, was an expert, though not a professional.
The soldier boys and sailor boys were delighted, and watched closely in their desire to see how the tricks were done.
And this paved the way to their still greater satisfaction, for the accommodating magician acceded to several urgent requests and explained his tricks.
To be sure, it detracted from the mystery, but it added to the interest.
One of his startling deeds was this.
An attendant brought to the magician a small iron dish filled with kerosene oil. With an eager smile, as of delighted anticipation, the juggler, who spoke no word, made motions for his aid to light the oil.
This was done, and the flames proved it to be real oil and really burning.
Then, taking an iron spoon, the magician dipped out a spoonful of the blazing oil and putting it in his mouth swallowed it with great apparent relish and enjoyment.
He nodded his head and smacked his lips in praise of this strange food, and made a gesture of wanting more. Obligingly, the attendant offered him the iron bowl again, and again a spoonful of blazing kerosene was gobbled up by the hungry feeder.
“My stars!” cried one of the audience, “I’ve heard of fire-eaters, but I never expected to see one! Have another dip, old chap!”
Smiling
