CHAPTER VI
THE THANKSGIVING BAZAAR
The bazaar was at its height. No one would have guessed that staid oldAssembly Hall could lend itself to such levity.
At one end a band of gypsies had pitched their tents in true Romanyfashion. There were dark-eyed gypsy maids in gaudy clothing, who gaylyjingled their tambourines and wheedled good-natured sightseers intotheir main tent with extravagant stories of the wonderful Romany dancinggirls whose unequaled dancing might be seen for the small sum of tencents. While aged gypsies crouched here and there croaking mysteriouslyof their power to reveal the future, and promising health, wealth andhappiness to those who crossed their out-stretched palms with silver.
In front of one of the tents several gypsy boys sat grouped inpicturesque attitudes, industriously twanging guitars and mandolins. Thewhole encampment was lighted by flaring torches on the ends of longpoles, and was the final touch needed to give the true gypsy effect.
The rest of the space in the hall had been given up to booths. Therewas, of course, a Japanese booth, while across from it several Mexicanseniors and senoritas were doing an enterprising novelty and post-cardbusiness under the red, white and green flag of Mexico.
There was a cunning little English tea shop, where one could refreshone's self with tea, cakes and jam, not to mention the booth devoted togood old Ireland, presided over by Nora O'Malley who, dressed as anIrish colleen, sang the "Wearing of the Green" and "The Harp That OnceThro' Tara's Hall," with true Irish fervor, while she disposed of boxesof home-made candy tied with green ribbon that people bought for thepleasure of hearing her sing.
Next to the gypsy encampment, however, the feature of the evening wasthe booth entrusted to Eleanor Savelli. It was a veritable corner inItaly, and it may be said to Eleanor's credit that she had workeduntiringly to carry out her idea. She had furnished the peasant costumesfor herself and three of her friends, and knew exactly how they were tobe worn, and had spared no expense in the matter of fruit and flowerswhich were to be sold at a good profit. There were little bags ofhome-made confetti that were sure to be popular and various otherattractive features truly Italian that Eleanor had spent much time andtrouble in procuring and arranging.
There had been a heated altercation, however, between Eleanor and EdnaWright on the day after Eleanor had astonished Grace and her friends byher fiery outburst, Edna having admitted that she had been responsiblefor the changes that had aroused Eleanor's ire.
A quarrel had ensued, in which Edna, having been worsted, had retiredfrom the field in tears, refusing to have anything further to do withEleanor or her booth. At this juncture Miss Tebbs had appeared on thescene, and peace was restored, although Edna was still taciturn andsulky, and displayed little interest in what went on around her.
From the moment the doors were opened the citizens of Oakdale lookedinside, feeling particularly good-natured after their Thanksgivingdinners, and prepared to spend their money.
"It's perfectly wonderful what these children have managed to do onnothing whatever," Miss Thompson was saying, as she and Mrs. Nesbit, inthe guise of sightseers, were strolling down the middle of the hall.
"It looks to me like a scene from an opera," replied Mrs. Nesbit.
"Yes, we are all very prosperous and clean comic opera gypsies, Mrs.Nesbit," said Hippy Wingate, who had come up just in time to hear Mrs.Nesbit's remark.
"Why, Hippy Wingate, I never should have recognized you. You look likethe big smuggler in 'Carmen.' I have forgotten his name."
"I am a smuggler, Mrs. Nesbit," put in Hippy mysteriously. "But don'tgive me away. It's not lace goods I've brought over the border, norbales of silk and such things. Isn't that what gypsies are supposedusually to smuggle?"
"I believe it is," answered Mrs. Nesbit. "At least they always appear inplays and pictures seated at the foot of a high, rocky cliff in somelonely spot, with bales and casks and strange looking bundles about. Noone would be heartless enough to ask what was inside the bundles, but Ihave always had a strong suspicion that it was excelsior."
"What have you been smuggling, Hippy?" asked Miss Thompson. "I wonderyou managed to get it past that line of watchful gipsy girls."
"I won't give it away," replied Hippy. "It's a surprise. You'll see, andI wager it will be the talk of the place before the evening is over."
"Is it animal, vegetable or mineral, Hippy?" demanded Mrs. Nesbit.
"Animal," replied Hippy. "Very much animal."
"Now, what in the world," the two women exclaimed, their curiositypiqued.
"Hippy, I wish you would come on and get to work," called Grace over hershoulder, as she hurried past, and Hippy darted after her, rememberingthat he had not done a thing that evening to assist the girls.
"How fine Grace Harlowe does look, Mrs. Nesbit," remarked Miss Thompson,"and how I shall miss her when she leaves the High School! The time goestoo quickly to suit me, when all these nice girls leave us for college."
Miss Thompson still cherished a deep regard for Grace, although, sincethe circumstance of Grace's refusal to betray Eleanor, narrated in"Grace Harlowe's Junior Year at High School," the two had neverreturned to quite the same footing as formerly.
Grace was, indeed, the picture of a beautiful gipsy girl who in romanceturns out not to be a gipsy at all, but a princess stolen in her youth.She wore a skirt of red trimmed in black and yellow, a full white blouseand a little black velvet bolero. Around her waist she had tied a gaylycolored sash, while on her head was a gipsy headdress bordered with goldfringe.
"Hippy," commanded Grace, "will you please take this gong and announcethat the auction is about to begin!"
"Certainly, certainly," answered Hippy. "Anything to oblige the ladies."
He mounted a chair and beat on the Japanese gong.
"This way, ladies and gentlemen. Come right this way! The 'MysteryAuction' will now commence. It is a sale of surprises. You never knowwhat you are going to draw, but it's sure to be something nice.Everybody step this way, please. These interesting and mysteriouspackages are to be sold each to the highest bidder. But no man knowethwhat he draweth. It is the way of life, ladies, but that's where the funcomes in, and it's sportsmanlike to take your chances, gentlemen."
By this time Hippy had drawn a crowd of curious people about the boothdevoted to that purpose, in which were piled dozens of packages ofvarious shapes and sizes, all done up in white tissue paper and tiedwith red ribbons.
Hippy picked up the first bundle.
"Is there anyone here who will make a bid on this interesting package?"he cried. "It may contain treasure. Who knows? It may contain fruitsfrom the tropics, or the spices of Araby, or--"
"I'll bid ten cents," called a voice.
"Ten cents!" exclaimed Hippy in mock horror. "I ask you, dear friend,can our gymnasium be builded upon ten cents? Is there no one here who isthinking of our late, lamented gymnasium? Have we already forgotten thatdear, departed hall of youthful pleasures, cut down in the flower of itsyouth so tragically?"
Hippy's voice rang out like an old-time orator's, and some one bidtwenty-five cents. But the bidding ended there, and Farmer Benson gotthe package, which on being opened, was found to contain a beautifullittle lacquer box. This was a lucky beginning. If the packages all heldsuch treasures they were well worth bidding on. Then the fun grew fastand furious. Everybody began bidding, and a pound of sugar actually wentfor five dollars, to old Mr. McDonald, who had obstinately refused togive up to his opponent, Mr. Barber, in the bidding contest. Mr. Harlowepaid heavily for a cook book, while David Nesbit, for fifty cents, drewa splendid big fruit cake.
"It is so fortunate that that fruit cake fell into the hands of one ofmy friends," remarked Hippy, as David was about to walk off, his prizeunder his arm. "I adore fruit cake."
"That's no sign that you will ever get a chance at this one," repliedDavid calmly.
"I shall, I know I shall," retorted Hippy, "You wouldn't betray my youngconfidence and dispel my fond hopes by eating it all
yourself. Youdeserve an awful case of indigestion if you do."
"Children, children, stop squabbling," laughed Anne who, looking like avery demure little gypsy, had slipped up unnoticed. "Don't worry, Hippy,I'll see that you are remembered when the famous cake is cut."
"I feel relieved," said Hippy, giving her one of his Cheshire Cat grins."I propose that you leave your treasure with this gypsy maid, David, forthe time is flying and we have a great and glorious surprise to spring."
"See you later, Anne," said David, looking at his watch. Then takingHippy by the arm the two young men hurried out of the hall, leaving Anneto wonder what the surprise might be.
Turning slowly she was making her way toward the gypsy camp when a voicecalled, "O Anne, wait a minute," and Marian Barber fluttered upaccompanied by a tall, dark young man.
"Miss Pierson, allow me to present Mr. Hammond," she said.
The young man bowed rather too elaborately Anne thought, and a wave ofdislike swept over her as she rather coldly acknowledged theintroduction.
"Mr. Hammond has just come to Oakdale," Marian said eagerly. "He knowsvery few people as yet."
"Ah, yes," said Mr. Hammond, with a smile that was intended to befascinating. "I am, indeed, a stranger. Miss Barber has kindlyvolunteered to introduce me to some of her charming friends, therefore Itrust that in time they will be mine also."
Anne murmured some polite reply, and excusing herself walked away."Horrid thing," she thought. "How cruel he looks when he smiles. Iwonder where Marian met him. She seems to be delighted with him."
"Where have you been, Anne?" asked Grace, as Anne entered the tent whereshe and Miriam sat resting preparatory to beginning their dance, whenenough people should gather outside to form a paying audience.
"Talking to Marian Barber and a young man who is trailing about withher."
"Did she introduce that man to you?" exclaimed Grace.
"Yes," replied Anne. "Did you meet him?"
"I did," was the answer. "Isn't he horrid?"
"That is precisely what I said," replied Anne. "There is something abouthis suave, silky manner that gives me the creeps."
"I hope Marian isn't seriously impressed with him," said Grace. "Forthere is something positively sinister about him."
Just then Hippy's voice was heard again above the crowd, and the threegirls hurried to the opening in the tent.
Grace Harlowe's Senior Year at High School Page 6