“Just the same, it’s silly,” Art cried, as the rehearsal was over. “Nobody ever marched off to war in silk pants and pumps. Why can’t we put on our own old clothes, with high boots, when we go for the guns? Even if we don’t have Continental uniforms, the old clothes will look more sensible than these things.”
“Sure!” cried Peanut, to the teacher. “Look here, Miss Eldridge, here’s a picture of the Concord statue of the Minute Man. Just long pants stuck into his boots. Let ’em just do that, and sling blanket rolls over their shoulders, like Scouts. Then they’ll look like business.”
“I guess you are right, boys,” she said. “Well, try it again. Who lives nearest? You, Joe, and you, Bert. Run and borrow a few old blankets from your mothers.”
Ten minutes later Peanut once more galloped up to interrupt the Virginia Reel, the men rushed out for their guns, and pulled on their own trousers, slung blanket rolls over their shoulders, discarded their powdered wigs, and came back looking much more like minute men going to war. They formed a strong contrast now to the girls, in their fine clothes. Art felt easy at last, with a blanket roll covering his frilled shirt and a gun in his hand. He gave commands to his company in a firm voice, no longer halting and awkward. He even had a sudden inspiration, which undoubtedly improved the play, though that wasn’t why he carried it out.
Lucy Parker, she who had been so contemptuous of boys, was acting for all she was worth in this scene. Prattie was supposed to be her lover, and she was clinging to him with one hand while bidding him good-bye, and mopping her eyes with the other. Art, as captain of the minute men, suddenly strode over to her, grabbed Prattie, dragged him away, and put him into line with the other soldiers. Lucy looked indignant, and forgot to wipe her eyes. Art glanced at her triumphantly, and Miss Eldridge cried, “Do that on the night of the play, Arthur! That’s fine--only don’t glare at Lucy.”
This inspiration rather restored Art’s spirits. He had got square with Lucy Parker, anyhow! He and Peanut dressed as quickly as they could, and left the school building, walking home up the village street, where sleigh-bells were jingling. Art grew glum again.