They went into the Old Mill, and down into the Mimic Mine, and sailed
through the painted Venice, eating candy and chewing gum and shouting. All
but Elizabeth. Elizabeth would not chew gum nor talk loud. It was not her
way. But she smiled serenely on the rest, and did not let it worry her
that some one might recognize the popular Miss Bailey in so ill-bred a
crowd. She knew that it was their way, and they could have no other. They
were having a good time, and she was a part of it for to-day. They weighed
one another on the scales with many jokes and much laughter, and went to
see all the moving pictures in the place. They ate their lunch under the
trees, and then at last the music began.
They seated themselves on the outskirts of the company, for Lizzie
declared that was the only pleasant place to be. She did not want to go
"way up front." She had a boy on either side of her, and she kept the seat
shaking with laughter. Now and then a weary guard would look distressedly
down the line, and motion for less noise; but they giggled on. Elizabeth
was glad they were so far back that they might not annoy more people than
was necessary.
But the music was good, and she watched the leader with great
satisfaction. She noticed that there were many people given up to the
pleasure of it. The melody went to her soul, and thrilled through it. She
had not had much good music in her life. The last three years, of course,
she had been occasionally to the Academy of Music; but, though her
grandmother had a box there, she very seldom had time or cared to attend
concerts. Sometimes, when Melba, or Caruso, or some world-renowned
favorite was there, she would take Elizabeth for an hour, usually slipping
out just after the favorite solo with noticeable loftiness, as if the
orchestra were the common dust of the earth, and she only condescended to
come for the soloist. So Elizabeth had scarcely known the delight of a
whole concert of fine orchestral music.
She heard Lizzie talking.
"Yes, that's Walter Damrosch! Ain't that name fierce? Grandma thinks it's
kind of wicked to pernounce it that way. They say he's fine, but I must
say I liked the band they had last year better. It played a whole lot of
lively things, and once they had a rattle-box and a squeaking thing that
cried like a baby right out in the music, and everybody just roared
laughing. I tell you that was great. I don't care much for this here kind
of music myself. Do you?" And Jim and Joe both agreed that they didn't,
either. Elizabeth smiled, and kept on enjoying it.