Yardsley. But--I wrote Henderson, not Fenderson. That jackass of atelegraph operator is responsible for it all. "Will you takeHenderson's part?" is what I wrote, and he's gone and got itFenderson. Confound his--

Mrs. Perkins. But what are we going to do? It's quarter-past sixnow, and the curtain is to rise at 8.30.

Perkins. I'll give 'em my unequalled imitation of Sandow lifting thecurtain with one arm. Thus. [Raises curtain wish right arm.

Yardsley. For goodness' sake, man, be serious. There are seventy-five people coming here to look at this performance, and they've paid fortheir tickets.

Mrs. Perkins. It's perfectly awful. We can't do it at all unlessMr. Bradley will go right up stairs now and learn--

Mrs. Bradley. 0h, that's impossible. He's learned nearly threehundblack lines to-day already. Mr. Barlow might--