Emmerich Manual High School - Ivian Yearbook (Indianapolis, IN)

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longer, disappeared through the door. To see the tables thus turned, I was as much amused as the cook had been before. ' Don ' t laugh too hard, young man, ' she said, and before I could make ah answer, she had set my hat on the back of her head in a most becoming style, tucked a little stool under her left arm by way of a basket, and was shambling up from the opposite side of the room, whistling lustily. As she came toward me, the whist- ling stopped short, she lifted her hat quickly, and with a blush said, ' Good morning, Maggie, ' then passed to the table, looking at me askance while depositing the imaginary groceries. Slowly she walked toward the couch, gave the stool a toss on to it, and then with a little run and jump, seated herself beside the stool, saying, ' Git up, Dolly, ' and looking at me, waved the hat high in the air. I felt a little embarrassed, I must confess, but still I could not help laughing. It was all done so cleverly. That evening when she took me to the door, she looked at me smilingly, and said she knew I didn ' t mind being mimicked, I was so good-natured — ' and oh, Harry, the old theater company is going to leave to-night, and I heard that the troupe coming in the morning is just fine; such good singing and dancing; don ' t you think we could go to-morrow night? ' Of course, I thought we could, although I knew it would take the last penny of the previous week ' s pay. She could make a fellow spend more money than any girl I ever knew. I didn ' t get very much a week but I had no expenses whatever, and I was then sometimes com- pelled to borrow in order to keep up with Maggie ' s extravagant tastes, and my wish not to disappoint her. Well, we went the next night, and the play was real good. Maggie thoroughly en- joyed it, and told me if I would come around the next evening, she would go through with the new dance, give the tragic poses, and even attempt some of the elevated singing. So Friday evening I called early, and was both pleased and amazed to see how perfectly she went through it all. After one particularly difficult place, she turned to me saying, ' Wasn ' t that real well done? ' I was just preparing to say it was ' simply grand, ' when a voice from the door answered, ' Splendid. ' We both looked toward the door and there saw the head actor of the play smiling at us. I was so astonished, I could say nothing, but Maggie spoke out with an angry sparkle in her black eyes, and a great deal of impertinence in her voice, ' It seems to me your place is at the theater instead of at that entrance. ' ' I beg your —

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month, first working as dish washer, but later she was allowed to dust and help arrange the best rooms in the house. As I was daily at the hotel, I soon became well acquainted with the little black-eyed, black-haired beauty, and before a year had passed, we were the best of friends. She was cheerful and lighthearted, always ready for a good joke, or to play some prank on an unsuspecting victim. But she was most happy and enter- taining when imitating some one. In the evenings when work was over, I would often go to the servant ' s hall, and there would be Maggie, the center of an admiring group of servants. Sometimes she would be singing a Scotch love song, an Irish or negro melody, to the amusement of her audience; sometimes a sad, sweet song or hymn in such a way as to bring tears to the eyes of her hearers. She had a sweet, clear soprano voice, capable of all the inflec- tions necessary for good imitation. At times I found her seated before a table pretending to eat the imagined dainties set before her, in a very mincing manner, saying, ' Yes, indeed! ' and ' No, my dear, ' and smoothing back her own glossy curls in clever imitation of an old boarder, Miss Manly. Then she gave orders in a blustering voice, and tilted back in her chair, holding a news- paper over which she glowered as naturally as if she had been Mr. Fletcher himself. One Thursday evening especially I remember going into the room and seeing Maggie with a towel tied about her waist, balancing a tray on the five dainty fingers of her right hand and leaning with the other on the table. ' Yaas sah — waal — waal, I really doan know, sah, ' she was saying with the greatest mock solemnity. The head cook roared and shook with laughter. He had a grudge against Jim, the colored waiter, and to see him thus mocked, tickled him more than anything else. Maggie, seeing her chance, laid down the tray and began beating an imaginary batter, singing in a thick, coarse voice a favorite song of the cook ' s, giving all the strong, steady rises and sudden wavery falls so accurately that it was impossible to keep a straight face. Dart- ing across the room, she exclaimed in an angry voice, ' Git away, you hussy, if you wasn ' t so lazy an ' good for nothin ' , the sauce wouldn ' t be lumpy an ' dark. I don ' t see what would become of this here place if it wuzn ' t for me a-lookin ' after the meals an ' things; and what are you a-grinnin ' at, Miss Maggie? Seems to me if you wuz out there a-sweepin ' off the walk you ' d be a-doin ' more good in this here world. ' The cook, unable to stand it any

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your pardon Miss, ' he said, still smiling good-naturedly, ' but it — it is a trifle too early for my appearance on the stage, and — and as I heard you remark to one of the servants, that you were — were going to rehearse the play to-night to — to one of your friends (here with a glance at me), I — I thought I would look in to see how you succeeded, and — and I must say you did remarkably well for one of your — your age and size, ' and yj, with a low chuckle he closed the door. That was the last I saw of him, and the last time I saw her until this evening, for the next morning, when I brought the groceries, the cook said she was busy at work, and on Sunday evening when I called as usual, the theater troupe was gone, and so was Maggie. Here, after ten years, she comes back to this town as Miss Margerite Dave, and the leading lady in a company. Well, we shall go to see her to-morrow night at any rate. Mercy, Pen, isn ' t there any water in the room? I am so thirsty, and so Mr. Fields finished his story and sat down to enjoy his evening meal. NELLIE CLAYTON, June, ' gg.