Yes, entirely my own composition. I only hope
that William Brown won't _murder_ my poetry as he does at rehearsals."
The curtain went up.
The scene was a wood, as was evident from a few small branches of
trees placed here and there at intervals on the stage.
Joan, in a white dress and red cloak, entered and began to speak,
quickly and breathlessly, stressing every word with impartial
regularity.
"A little maid am I--Red Riding-Hood.
My journey lies along this dark, thick wood.
Within my basket is a little jar
Of jam--a present for my grand-mamma."
Then Cuthbert entered--a Prince in white satin with a blue sash. There
was a rapt murmur of admiration in the audience as he made his
appearance.
William waited impatiently and uneasily behind the scenes. His wolf's
head was very hot. One of the eye-holes was beyond his range of
vision; through the other he had a somewhat prescribed view of what
went on around him. He had been pinned tightly into the dining-room
hearth-rug, his arms pinioned down by his side. He was distinctly
uncomfortable.
At last his cue came.
Red Riding-Hood and the Prince parted after a short conversation in
which their acquaintance made rapid strides, and at the end of which
the Prince said casually as he turned to go:
"So sweet a maid have I never seen,
Ere long I hope to make her my wife and queen."
Red Riding-Hood gazed after him, remarking (all in the same breath and
tone):
"How kind he is, how gentle and how good!
But, see what evil beast comes through the wood!"
Here William entered amid wild applause.
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