Spanish Johnny’s white teeth, and of Mrs. Tellamantez’s lustrous,
smoothly coiled black hair.
After the orchestra played “Selections from Erminie,” and the Baptist
preacher made a long prayer, Tillie Kronborg came on with a highly
colored recitation, “The Polish Boy.” When it was over every one
breathed more freely. No committee had the courage to leave Tillie off a
programme. She was accepted as a trying feature of every entertainment.
The Progressive Euchre Club was the only social organization in the town
that entirely escaped Tillie. After Tillie sat down, the Ladies’
Quartette sang, “Beloved, it is Night,” and then it was Thea’s turn.
The “Ballade” took ten minutes, which was five minutes too long. The
audience grew restive and fell to whispering. Thea could hear Mrs.
Livery Johnson’s bracelets jangling as she fanned herself, and she could
hear her father’s nervous, ministerial cough. Thor behaved better than
any one else. When Thea bowed and returned to her seat at the back of
the stage there was the usual applause, but it was vigorous only from
the back of the house where the Mexicans sat, and from Ray Kennedy’s
CLAQUEURS. Any one could see that a good-natured audience had been
bored.
Because Mr. Kronborg’s sister was on the programme, it had also been
necessary to ask the Baptist preacher’s wife’s cousin to sing. She was a
“deep alto” from McCook, and she sang, “Thy Sentinel Am I.” After her
came Lily Fisher. Thea’s rival was also a blonde, but her hair was much
heavier than Thea’s, and fell in long round curls over her shoulders.
She was the angel-child of the Baptists, and looked exactly like the
beautiful children on soap calendars. Her pink-and-white face, her set
smile of innocence, were surely born of a color-press. She had long,
drooping eyelashes, a little pursed-up mouth, and narrow, pointed teeth,
like a squirrel’s.
Lily began:—
“ROCK OF AGES, CLEFT FOR ME, carelessly the maiden sang.”
Thea drew a long breath. That was the game; it was a recitation and a
song in one. Lily trailed the hymn through half a dozen verses with
great effect. The Baptist preacher had announced at the beginning of the
concert that “owing to the length of the programme, there would be no
encores.” But the applause which followed Lily to her seat was such an
unmistakable expression of enthusiasm that Thea had to admit Lily was
justified in going back. She was attended this time by Mrs. Livery
Johnson herself, crimson with triumph and gleaming-eyed, nervously
rolling and unrolling a sheet of music. She took off her bracelets and
played Lily’s accompaniment. Lily had the effrontery to come out with,
“She sang the song of Home, Sweet Home, the song that touched my heart.”
But this did not surprise Thea; as Ray said later in the evening, “the
cards had been stacked against her from the beginning.” The next issue
of the GLEAM correctly stated that “unquestionably the honors of the
evening must be accorded to Miss Lily Fisher.” The Baptists had
everything their own way.
After the concert Ray Kennedy joined the Kronborgs’ party and walked
home with them. Thea was grateful for his silent sympathy, even while it
