"The first feature of the entertainment," announced the preacher,
"will be a song by Miss Europena Wiggs."

[Illustration: "Europena stepped forward."]

Europena stepped forward and, with hands close to her sides and
anguished eyes on the ceiling, gasped forth the agonized query:

"Can she make a cheery-pie,
Billy boy, Billy boy?
Can she make a cheery-pie,
Charming Billy?"

Notwithstanding the fact that there were eight verses, an encore was
demanded. Mrs. Wiggs rose in her seat and beckoned vehemently to
Europena. "Come on back!" she motioned violently with her lips. "They
want you to come back."

Europena, in a state of utter bewilderment, returned to the stage.

"Say another speech!" whispered Mrs. Wiggs, leaning over so far that
she knocked Mrs. Rothchild's bonnet awry. Still Europena stood there,
an evident victim of lockjaw.

"'I have a little finger,'" prompted her mother frantically from the
second row front.

A single ray of intelligence flickered for a moment over the child's
face, and with a supreme effort she said: