PART 1
2. CHAPTER TWO
 (continued)
The morning charities and ceremonies took so much time that
 the rest of the day was devoted to preparations for the evening
 festivities.  Being still too young to go often to the theater, 
 and not rich enough to afford any great outlay for private
 performances, the girls put their wits to work, and necessity being
 the mother of invention, made whatever they needed.  Very clever
 were some of their productions, pasteboard guitars, antique lamps
 made of old-fashioned butter boats covered with silver paper, 
 gorgeous robes of old cotton, glittering with tin spangles from
 a pickle factory, and armor covered with the same useful diamond
 shaped bits left inn sheets when the lids of preserve pots were
 cut out.  The big chamber was the scene of many innocent revels. 
No gentleman were admitted, so Jo played male parts to her
 heart's content and took immense satisfaction in a pair of russet
 leather boots given her by a friend, who knew a lady who knew an
 actor.  These boots, an old foil, and a slashed doublet once used
 by an artist for some picture, were Jo's chief treasures and
 appeared on all occasions.  The smallness of the company made it
 necessary for the two principal actors to take several parts
 apiece, and they certainly deserved some credit for the hard work
 they did in learning three or four different parts, whisking in
 and out of various costumes, and managing the stage besides.  It
 was excellent drill for their memories, a harmless amusement, and
 employed many hours which otherwise would have been idle, lonely, 
 or spent in less profitable society. 
On christmas night, a dozen girls piled onto the bed which
 was the dress circle, and sat before the blue and yellow chintz
 curtains in a most flattering state of expectancy.  There was a
 good deal of rustling and whispering behind the curtain, a trifle
 of lamp smoke, and an occasional giggle from Amy, who was apt to
 get hysterical in the excitement of the moment.  Presently a bell
 sounded, the curtains flew apart, and the OPERATIC TRAGEDY began. 
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