The Shadow Party

"

The Shadow, Party

BY ELIZABETH CANNON PORTER

Helen and Leo had quarreled, just as they had several times be-

fore, over some trivial matter, only this time they did not make up.

Moreover, it looked as if Helen would have no partner for the char-

acter ball, as Leo avoided her in moody silence. So she slammed the

gorgeous new kimona, which she had planned to wear, in her trunk,

and tried to talk light-heartedly when the other girls discussed the

party.

Then, the day before the ball, Frank had quite unexpectedly asked

her to go with him, so she hurriedly set to work to get her costume

in readiness at the last moment. For weeks the costume dance to be

given by the Sunflower girls of the Academy, in the little southern

town of Warez, had been the object of preparation. Helen and Mary,

the girl that lived at the same house, had decided, as leaders among

the girls, to set an example of economy, as one girl had demoralized

her family by going home and demanding to be outfitted as Cleopatra.

Helen, who had a brand new kimona, and was petite, into, the bargain,

decided to go as a Japanese lady, whereupon it was rumored about

that Daisy Lewis, who had also decided to go as a Japanese lady,

suddenly changed to "Queen of Night." Mary, who was tall and

stately, had, for the sum of fifty cents, hired a Deflowered polonaise

from the costuming house, and was going as a "Colonial Dame."

Helen determined to get herself up regardless "just to show Leo that

she didn't care." So she tacked yards of flowing cerise silk (which

she had for a new waist) into the front of her kimona, gilded her

soiled white kid slippers, and "did" her masses of black hair up high

with combs and chrysanthemums. But her preparations were as

naught compared with the Colonial Dame's. Mary had taken four

solid hours to get into her harness, during which time she had had

most of the family running distractedly around the house looking

for things she wanted, but now she sat serenely ready in the little

parlor, the pink of perfection from her powdered hair to her pointed

toe.

Mary's escort, John, who, in pantaloons and clogs, was supposed

to be a Dutchman, had arrived at half-past eight. The three then

waited for Frank. At a quarter to nine they tried to talk of indif-

ferent subjects while they strained their ears for his step on the porch.

When the clock struck nine John cast up his buttermilk eyes appre-

hensively. At nine-fifteen he suggested that they not wait for Frank

any longer, but that Helen come and go with him and Mary.

"Something must have happened," he suggested. At this point

Mary's elderly sister entered the room and began telling them about a

girl who sat up till half-past ten waiting for a fellow who never came

at all.

"You and Mary had better go. I'll stay here," replied Helen,

—

grimly. "If he doesn't come

They all gave a gasp of relief. The doorbell had rung and they

heard Frank's voice in the hall. He was dressed as a clown and perhaps

Helen imagined that he looked white under the chalk. Strangely

enough, he offered no explanation for his lateness..

932 IMPROVEMENT ERA

When the four entered the ballroom the auctioneering was in full

blast. The men were huddled in the dark part of the room with their

eyes riveted on a white curtain which reached clear across the hall.

The lights were so arranged on the other side that the shadow of a

person walking across, was thrown upon the curtain. The girls had

hit upon this novel scheme for raising funds with which to furnish

their rest room. Instead of the time-worn basket party, the boys

— —

were allowed to bid maximum limit, two dollars on the shadow of

the girl that they wished to take in to supper. Of course the boys

were sure they recoginzed the girl they wanted, and the girls delight-

edly exchanged parts of costumes just to fool the boys. Mother Goose

exchanged her broom for Red Riding Hood's cape, and the Venetian

Flower Girl left her basket in the wings when she pirouetted before

the curtain.

"How much am I bid for this shadow?" called the auctioneer, as

the reflection of a tall lady in a peaked hat was thrown upon the

curtain.

"A dollar," huskily replied a red-headed chap.

"Sold — sold for a dollar," and the auctioneer brought down his

hammer.

"That's the third one that Eddie has bought in the last half hour,

whispered one of the boys. "He's taking up all the tall ones, so's to

be sure and get Bessie McDonough."

Mary and Helen slipped behind the curtain and waited for their

numbers to be called. Each girl was given a number, and the lucky

bidder was given a ticket with her number on with which to claim her.

At first the bids had been quick and extravagant, but as the boys be-

came supplied with partners, and perhaps realized that they made mis-

takes, the calls had taken on a more conservative tone. As she stood

in line, Helen vaguely wondered who would get her shadow. Any one

of half a dozen boys might do it. She hoped that Leo would, but of

course it was "up to" Frank, her partner of the evening, to claim her

for supper. A moment later "26," her number, was called, and with a

little flutter of the heart she stepped behind the curtain and flirted

her fan. She heard a confused jumble of voices on the other side, the

auctioneer's hammer came down with a thud, and it was over with.

Soon afterwards the curtain was pulled up, the lights thrown on.

and the men rushed up to claim their supper partners for the grand

march. Much merriment, and some consternation, ensued over the

results. One man saw his young wife borne off by "Uncle Sam," while

he, it seems, had purchased "Aunt Dinah." One boy was excitedly

trying to trade his number off, while several had secured two or three

ladies, while others, not so fortunate, had none at all.

The first person in all that brilliant throng that Helen saw was

Leo, across the room in the doorway. Clad in green flannel shirt,

leather chaps, and a bandana knotted picturesquely around his throat;

he looked much as he did when he rode the range. But instead of com-

ing toward her, as she half hoped he would, he only leaned moodily

against the door frame, apparently oblivious to the gay scene around

him. Presently someone did come to claim her. It was Frank, with

Daisy Lewis on his arm.

"I believe I've got your number," he said.

"You seem to be already supplied with a partner," she returned,

coldly.

"Well, you see, I wanted two suppers," he explained with an un-

easy laugh. Then he mumbled something about their shadows look-

ing alike. At first glance Helen could see nothing alike between a

sable-robed, star-bespangled "Queen of Night" and a pink and blue

Japanese, but then their shadows might look alike, and both wore

THE SHADOW PARTY 933

drapery, and she noticed that Daisy's tiara was not unlike her own

coiffure in shape. But then, why had Frank chosen Daisy of all peo-

ple, for it seemed as if they were rivals in everything.

"Do you think that we can march three abreast?" asked Daisy,

doubtfully.

"Sure," Frank reassured her. "Don't you see there's quite a num-

ber marching that way. See Jay Hamlin over there? He wanted to

—

make sure of one Elizabethan lady, so he secured the two of 'em the

pink and the green." Sure enough, that young gentleman was march-

ing between two ladies with enormous ruffs which seemed to be the

style in Shakespearean days. In front of them Mary was gently chid-

ing John with having paid only sixty cents for her, while he stoutly

averred with Dutch stolidity that sixty cents was enough to pay for

any shadow.

Then, as the orchestra flared into Washington Gray's march, the

music drowned all chatter. It was a gay scene that the twinkling

lights looked down upon. Here, under the ivory and gold dome, were

gathered the semblance and symbols of all nations. History, travel

and romance had been culled to gain that ensemble. The students had

gathered information while preparing for the character ball and many

had worked out the details of their costumes with painstaking care.

There was an Apache chief and a gypsy girl, a "dago" organ-grinder

with a Teddy bear, a velvet-clad toreador, and a Spanish senorita in

black lace and yellow roses. One man, in the uniform of a Belgian

army officer, looked like he had walked out of a Rembrandt portrait.

There were soldiers, cowboys, and darkies. Also the kingdom of

Mother Goose was represented in a dainty, blue-clad Cinderella, and

Snow White, a blond in -white crepe papers. The country weekly of

the little town, "The Progress," was uniquely represented by a diminu-

tive girl clad in pleated newspapers.

When the dancing was well under way, Leo sought Helen out.

"I've got something to say to you," he whispered, as she took

his arm. "I tried to get you for a supper partner, but I must have

been out of the room when you were bid for, so I didn't take any."

"I wish you had, for Frank had two," she answered, mischievously.

While they were dancing, he asked her if she would go horseback

riding up the river with him and some friends the next day. Her first

thought had been to refuse, but he had looked at her all evening with

such misery in his eyes, that she happily accepted the invitation. He

led her to a quiet place where they made up their quarrel. She heard

Leo utter an exclamation of impatience and looked up to see Frank

coming toward them.

He claimed her for supper, and as they started off he explained

that as he had already eaten one supper with Daisy, he expected to be

very entertaining while Helen had hers.

The room was festive with holly and mistletoe and cedar boughs,

the long tables gleamed in the effulgence of candles, and the low

voices of the diners rippled with laughter. Suddenly Helen left the

loneliness that will come over one in the midst of a gay crowd. Leo's

eyes haunted her and she did not hear Frank's patter of con-

versation. Although they both kept up a light vein of talk both showed

that their minds were elsewhere. Later, when Frank came to claim

his second dance with her, Helen surprised him by saying, "I told you

that I wanted to go home early, but I'm having such a good time that

I'll stay till the dance is out."

When he came to find her after the party was over, he again had

Daisy on his arm. Thinking that he had been dancing with her she

paid little attention, until he led them out into the hall and carefully

adjusted Daisy's cloak before he went in search of her own wraps.