Mama put on her glasses and examined the note carefully.
"H-m-m-m," she said.
"Gee," said Rufus, "wait till I show this to Eddie Bangs. He's always boastin' of his autograps collection. He's got President Taft, Mayor Harley, Chief Mulligan. But he ain't got Santy Claus."
Jane could see that having a letter from Santa Claus himself softened considerably Rufus's disappointment in not getting a real live pony.
When calm was somewhat restored, the gifts were taken from the tree. These were some of the most exciting moments: When Mama opened her "brockated bag" and said, "This will be elegant to keep buttons in"; when Rufus opened his toy village—houses, trees, grocery boys on bicycles, deliverymen with horses and wagons, firemen and fire engines, a postman, a policeman, and a milkman—yes, a complete village to lay out with streets and parks; when Jane opened her miniature grocery store, with tiny boxes of real cocoa and salt, sacks of sugar, and the smallest jars of real honey; when Sylvie opened a huge box and drew out a fluffy white dress Mama had secretly made for her first ball, the Junior-Senior Promenade; and when Joe opened a long, slim package that had a shining clarinet in it! "Boy, oh, boy" was all he could say.
But now it was time for Sylvie to go to church to take her part in the Christmas tableau. Of course, all the Moffats were going to watch her and join in the beautiful Christmas carols. Before they left, however, Mama gathered them all around the tree and they sang:
7. The Middle Bear"Hark! The herald angels sing,
'Glory to the newborn King.
Peace on earth and mercy mild,
God and sinners reconciled!'"
When a play was given at the Town Hall, Sylvie was usually the only one of the four Moffats who was in it. However, once in a while the others were in a play. For instance, Rufus had been the smallest of the seven dwarfs. And once Janey had been a butterfly. She had not been an altogether successful butterfly, though, for she had tripped on the sole of her stocking, turning a somersault all across the stage. And whereas Joey was rarely in a play, he was often in charge of switching the lights on and off.
Jane liked the plays at the Town Hall. In fact, she liked them better than the moving pictures. In the moving pictures, Jane always found it difficult to tell the good man from the bad man. Especially if they both wore black mustaches. Of course, the pianist usually played ominous music just before the bad man came on the scene, and that helped. Even so, Jane preferred the plays at the Town Hall. There she had no trouble at all telling the good from the bad.
Now there was to be a play at the Town Hall,
The Three Bears,
and all four of the Moffats were going to be in it. Miss Chichester, the dancing-school teacher, was putting it on. But the money for the tickets was not going into her pocket or into the Moffats' pocket, even though they were all in the play. The money was to help pay for the new parish house. The old one had burned down last May and now a new one was being built.
The Three Bears
was to help raise the money to finish it. A benefit performance, it was called.
In this benefit performance, Sylvie was to play the part of Goldilocks. Joey was to be the big bear, Rufus the little bear, and Janey the middle bear. Jane had not asked to be the middle bear. It just naturally came out that way. The middle Moffat was going to be the middle bear.
As a rule, Joey did not enjoy the idea of acting in a play any more than he liked going to dancing school. However, he felt this play would be different. He felt it would be like having a disguise on, to be inside of a bear costume. And Jane felt the same way. She thought the people in the audience would not recognize her as the butterfly who turned a somersault across the stage, because she would be comfortably hidden inside her brown bear costume. As for Rufus, he hoped that Sylvie, the Goldilocks of this game, would not sit down too hard on that nice little chair of his and really break it to bits. It was such a good chair, and he wished he had it at home.
Mama was making all the costumes, even the bear heads. A big one for Joey, a little one for Rufus, and a middle-sized one for Jane. Of course, she wasn't making them out of bear fur; she was using brown outing flannel.
Now Jane was trying on her middle bear costume. She stepped into the body of the costume, and then Mama put the head on her.
"Make the holes for the eyes big enough," Jane begged. "So I'll see where I'm going and won't turn somersaults."
"Well," said Mama, "if I cut the eyes any larger you will look like a deep-sea diver instead of a bear."
"Oh well..." said Jane hastily. "A bear's got to look like a bear. Never mind making them any bigger, then."
Besides being in the play, each of the Moffats also had ten tickets to sell. And since Rufus really was too little to go from house to house and street to street selling tickets, the other three Moffats had even more to dispose of. Forty tickets!
At first Jane wondered if a girl should sell tickets to a play she was going to be in. Was that being conceited? Well, since the money was for the new parish house and not for the Moffats, she finally decided it was all right to sell the tickets. Besides, she thought, who would recognize her as the girl who sold tickets once she was inside her bear costume?
Sylvie sold most of her tickets like lightning to the ladies in the choir. But Joey's and Janey's tickets became grimier and grimier, they had such trouble disposing of them. Nancy Stokes said she would help, even though she went to a different parish house. She and Joey and Jane went quietly and politely up on people's verandas and rang the bell.
"Buy a ticket for the benefit of the new parish house?" was all they meant to say. But very often no one at all answered the bell.
"They can't all be away," said Nancy. "Do you think they hide behind the curtains when they see us coming?"
"Oh, no," said Jane. "You see it'd be different if the money was for us. But it isn't. It's a benefit. Why should they hide?"
One lady said she was very sorry but she was making mincemeat. "See?" she said, holding up her hands. They were all covered with mincemeat. So she could not buy a ticket. Not possibly, and she closed the door in their faces.
"She could wash her hands," said Nancy angrily. The children called this lady "mincemeat," ever after. Of course, she never knew it.
Yes, the tickets were very hard to sell. But little by little
the pile did dwindle. If only everybody were like Mrs. Stokes, they would go very fast. She bought four tickets! Jane was embarrassed.
"Tell your mother she doesn't have to buy all those tickets just 'cause all of us are in the play," she instructed Nancy.
But all the Stokeses insisted they really wanted to go. And even if none of the Moffats were in it, they would still want to go, for the play would help to build a new parish house.
What nice people!
thought Jane. Here they were, a family who went to the white church, buying tickets to help build a parish house for Janey's church. She hoped she would be a good middle bear, so they would be proud they knew her.
At last it was the night of the play. The four Moffats knew their lines perfectly. This was not surprising, considering they all lived in the same house and could practice their lines any time they wanted to. And, besides this, they had had two rehearsals, one in regular clothes and one in their bear costumes.
When Jane reached the Town Hall, she was surprised to find there were many features on the program besides
The Three Bears.
The Gillespie twins were going to give a piano duet. "By the Brook," it was called. A boy was going to play the violin. Someone else was going to toe dance. And Miss Beale was going to sing a song. A big program. And the Moffats, all of them except Mama, were going to watch this whole performance from behind the scenes. They could not sit in the audience with the regular people with their bear costumes on, for that would give the whole show away.
Jane fastened her eye to a hole in the curtain. Mama had not yet come. Of course, Mama would have to sit out front there with the regular people, even though she had made the costumes. The only people who had arrived so far were Clara Pringle and Brud. They were sitting in the front row, and Jane wondered how they had gotten in, because the front door that all the regular people were supposed to use wasn't even open yet.
When Jane wasn't peering through a hole in the curtain, Joey or Rufus was. Each one hoped he would be the first to see Mama when she came in. Or now and then they tried to squeeze through the opening at the side of the asbestos curtain. But the gnarled little janitor shook his head at them. So they stayed inside.
Sylvie was busy putting makeup on herself and on the dancers' faces. Jane watched them enviously. The only trouble with wearing a bear costume, she thought, was that she couldn't have her face painted. Well, she quickly consoled herself, she certainly would not have stage fright inside her bear head. Whereas she might if there were just paint on her face. "Somebody has been sitting in my chair," she rehearsed her lines. She stepped into her bear costume. But before putting on her head, she helped Rufus into his bear uniform. He didn't call it a costume. A uniform. A bear uniform. Jane set his head on his shoulders, found his two eyes for him so he could see out, and the little bear was ready.
Joey had no difficulty stepping into his costume and even in finding his own two eyes. Now the big bear and the little bear were ready. Jane looked around for her head, to put it on. Where was it?
"Where's my head?" she asked. "My bear head."
Nobody paid any attention to her. Miss Chichester was running back and forth and all around, giving an order here and an order there. Once as she rushed by, causing a great breeze, Jane yelled to make herself heard, "How can we act
The Three Bears
unless I find my middle bear head?"
"Not just now. I'm too busy" was all Miss Chichester said.
Everybody was too busy to help Jane find her head. Sylvie was helping the toe dancer dress. Joey was busy running around doing this and doing that for Miss Chichester. And the little old janitor was busy tightening ropes and making sure the lights were working. Rufus could not be torn from a hole in the curtain. He was looking for Mama.