He explained that he was Peter the Great, but
always in the Russian language, which was never understood.
Elizabeth Eliza found herself, in turn, in all the booths. Every
manager was puzzled by her appearance, and would send her to
some other, and she passed along, always trying to explain that
she had not yet decided upon her character.
Mr. Peterkin came and took Cleopatra from the Whittier Booth.
"I cannot understand," he said, "why none of our friends are
dressed in costume, and why we are."
"I rather like it," said Elizabeth Eliza, "though I should be better
pleased if I could form a group with some one."
The strains of the minuet began. Mrs. Peterkin was anxious to join
the performers. It was the dance of her youth.
But she was delayed by one of the managers on the steps that led
to the stage.
"I cannot understand this company," he said, distractedly.
"They cannot find their booth," said another.
"That is the case," said Mr. Peterkin, relieved to have it stated.
"Perhaps you had better pass into the corridor," said a polite
marshal.
They did this, and, walking across, found themselves in the
refreshment-room.
"This is the booth for us," said Mr. Peterkin.
"Indeed it is," said Mrs. Peterkin, sinking into a chair, exhausted.
At this moment two doves and a raven appeared,the little boys,
who had been dancing eagerly in Mother Goose's establishment,
and now came down for ice-cream.
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