Marcia eagerly followed the billboards announcing the daily offerings of cosmopolitan entertainment: the Trouville Opera Company, in scenes from “Cavalleria Rusticana”; Mr. Abner Snively, World-Renowned Humorist, in Monologues, Assisted by Consuela Chapman, Concert Violinist; The Occult Sciences and Philosophy of the Orient, by Dr. Cass Bittner of the University of Virginia; Italy and the Dalmatian Coast, with Slides, by Sir Wade Frisbee, Explorer, Naturalist, and World-Traveler. Mrs. Gross took David and Fannie every night, and Marcia listened enviously to their accounts. Lena said the whole thing was too much like church, and she wouldn’t be caught dead inside the tent. Papa said it wouldn’t look right if he, as a leading citizen, stayed away from this community treat, so he selected Abner Snively, the World-Renowned Humorist, and the next day Mary Evelyn’s mother told Lena she never heard anybody laugh so much in her life as Papa did. Papa told the jokes over and over again at supper, tears rolling down his cheek as he told about Pat and Mike, Rastus and the Colonel, Hans and Fritz, the Native and the Missionary Lady. He declared that in all of his experience he had frankly never heard such a genius as Snively, and he guessed he had heard the best of them, of course before he settled down. His wife said she thought, if you were to ask her opinion, that Mr. Snively got pretty close to being off-color sometimes, but maybe that was the type of thing Harry liked. Marcia said that if she were to take the County Elocution Prize she would very likely go around the country with a Chautauqua, telling jokes and giving dramatic readings. This made Papa sober up, and he said he wouldn’t have any daughter of his charging around the country performing like some actress, and so far as the County Prize was concerned she might as well get it out of her head because he had talked the thing over with Idah and there was no point getting any white clothes for Marcia anyway, because she’d have them dirty and torn before she got there.

Marcia wanted to write Aunt Lois out in California for the white dress, without which no talent could be heard, but it would take too long. Mrs. Gross finally heard of the trouble and said she could fix over a dress of Fanny’s for her, though she wasn’t much good at fixing, and Marcia could stuff some cotton in her own white shoes. She stole a visit to Grandma and explained the situation. Grandma said if she had the money for the fare she’d give it to her in a minute, but the fact was it took every penny she and Mrs. Carmel had to get their business on its feet. They were doing fine, understand, and stood in the way of making hundreds, maybe thousands, but it just took a little time, and until then she couldn’t do what she’d like for her grandchildren. She couldn’t even spare the change for a Chautauqua ticket, since she’d had to borrow from Mr. Sweeney again for the Women’s Relief Corps picnic last week, a pretty dressy affair held in conjunction with the G. A. R. Reunion in Elmville. (A pity Grandpa Willard wasn’t alive for it, Grandma said, since the other old gentlemen, many of them over seventy, seemed to enjoy it so much.) After this unsuccessful interview Marcia wandered wistfully over to the Chautauqua tent and studied the program for the afternoon. Through a flap in the tent she saw that half the seats were empty and there was no reason why a person couldn’t just go in and sit down, but she didn’t have the courage. The picture of the afternoon’s speaker was of a blandly beaming middle-aged man, long thin hair parted in the middle, pince-nez dropping a black ribbon elegantly down his face, Chesterfield overcoat buttoned up to his wing collar, and stylish top hat in white-gloved hand over his heart. The name of this personage was Thorburne Putney, F.R.G.S., B.A., International Authority on the Art of Living.