The Hope pioneer. [volume] (Hope, N.D.) 1882-1964, 1900-07-19

- e''- 'E'-' y
From the Little Chronicle, Chicago, Reprinted
by Special Permission.
THE 21st of April had come and with
it the Pageant of Roses, about
which Pasadena girls and boys had
been thinking and talking for weeks.
The opera house was one great bower,
for the whole framework Of the stage,
boxes and galleries was hidden by trail
ing green branches, dotted with roses.
Every seat in the house was filed and
people were even packed in the aisles,
when the curtain finally rose, and the
audience suddenly stopped complain
ing about the heavy fragrance of the
flowers, in their wonder at the beauti-
full tableau on the stage.
A lovely girl, dressed to represent
the goddess of flowers, was lying asleep
On moss-covered rocks, and, clustered
all about her, were little children
whose costumes made them look like
yellow peoples, and whose soft little
eyelids were folded like hers. The
time was supposed to be a California
autumn, when, after a long, dry sum
mer, everyone was watching and wish
ing for. rain. Presently, the awful
Breath-of-the-Desert came stealing in.
He was a man in a suit of dark green
tights covered with bright spangles,
and his face had been painted the color
of ashes. It was a horrible sight to
see him painting and curving and twist
ing about in his wicked glee at finding
the Goddess Florafas asleep. Sudden
ly, the soft music of the orchestra grew
loud and warlike, as the Breath-of-the-
Desert, by a wave of his sword, called
his army to follow him. In they
trooped and what do you think they
were but a crowd of boys, dressed to
look like the ugly cactus that grows
all over the desert! A moment more
and they would have killed the lovely
Goddess and all the peoples, too, but
fash!-ike a streak of white light
ming, down from the mountains at the
back of the stage, camc the glittering
Rain God-all in dazzling white and
silver-and the way his bright sword
went cleaning about, killing one cac
tus after another, was enough to make
you hold your breath. Last of all, he
fought the Observation-Disclosures and
when he had him, like the rest, lying
dead upon the stage, the Rain God
looked up and smiled, for he saw COM
ing. toward him the Maiden Spring,
who was really a sweet girl dressed in
green gauze, with bare white arms
holding high above her head an inn
mense green fern. Behind her came lit
tie children in white gauze and shin
ing wings. They were the Fairy Rain
drops, and, a moment later, the God
dess Flora and the peoples reused from
their sleep and all Joined in a happy
dance to joyous music.
Beautiful" "Perfect!" people were
saying, as the curtain went down.
But you just wait until you see
Stella Bird and Ethel Douglas!" whis-
pered a Pasadena boy to the stranger
beside him. "This is only the begin
ming. Now, after the Rain God comes,
you see, they'll have all the California
wild flowers represented, and then the
different kind of roses, Justin the or
der that they really come. And Ethel
and Stella take part in everything. My,
but they can dance. Mrs. Hackett wrote
the story of the Pageant and planned
the whole thing, but she says she
doesn't believe she could have made it
go without those two girls. Stella Bird
used to be called the prettiest girl in
Pasadena, but since Ethel Douglas
came here, it's a tie. 'Sh! there goes
the curtain"
And the audience seemed to agree
with this enthusiastic boy, for as Ethel
and Stella, dressed like purple bios
SONS, came leading the wild-fower
carnival upon the stage there was a
sudden, deafening burst of applause
and people began to murmur: ooh.
give me the opera glass, quick!"
Some one threw a great bunch of vio-
let's that fell at Stella's feet and she
caught them up so gracefully, without
losing step in the march, that every
body cheered. She smiled and bowed a
little before reading the name on the
card with the violets, but a minute
later she handed them to Ethel, when
all the people cheered again without a
thought of the shade that had fallen
on Stella's pretty face.
Then, after the wild flowers, came
the Pageant of the Roses, and truly
enough, Stella Bird and Ethel Douglas
proved the twin stars of the evening.
First, they appeared as snowy-robed
nuns in the march of the White Rose,
picturing the old mission days in Cali
fornia; next, they led court quadrille
as naughty Duchesse Doses in blush
ing gowns and with great pink hats
resting on their powdered hair; then
they were Gold and Ophir Roses from
the Orient, dressed in pink and yellow
and carried in r~ose-covered sedan
chairs; after that they danced gayly
out as Roses of CASTLE, in black lace
Spanish costume, tossing basketfuls of
red roses about; and, finsEy, they fut-
tered forth with great wavering wings,
as the yellow butterflies that are said
to be born in the heart of the Marechal
Mel rose. But. always, through
the evening it was when these two with
their sparkling eyes and fairy-like
dancing came near the footlights that
the audience showed most delight of
ell.