ed-up bikes; and, lastly, Tom, with his cap cocked
back and trousers turned up, trying--brrr!--to do a clog-dance!

"Bravo, Tom!" shouted Clifton, the moment he saw him. "Just you wait a
bit. I'll teach you to dance: with the clogs on your hands and your head
downwards, damn it! Here, take this to go on with!" continued Pa, fetching
him a clout on the shoulder. "And get to the bikes and hurry up, or I'll
smash your jaw in!"

Meanwhile, Jimmy had also come, unseen by Pa. And the great batten lit up:
the stage came to life again. Right up above, in the galleries from which
the ropes were worked, mysterious forms moved to and fro. The iron curtain
rose ... there was a clash of orchestra ... Jimmy, with his back against
the drop-scene and his face to the stage, gave sharp orders....

Pa watched the scene vaguely from the wings. He gnawed his mustache: the
apprentices would be there soon, with his Lily. And he had something to
say to the stage-manager; something of a delicate character.

But Clifton was surprised to see Jimmy instead of the usual
stage-manager:

"Hullo! So it's you now," he couldn't help saying.

"Why, yes, Mr. Clifton; since this morning. The other chap's ill, you
know. Harrasford asked me to take his place ... for a few days, I suppose
... or perhaps longer. Do you want to speak to me, Mr. Clifton?" added
Jimmy, observing Pa's look of embarrassment. "Just a minute and I am
yours."

Two tall footmen, caparisoned in velvet and gold, disappeared behind the
curtain with the number of the next turn. They came back in a few seconds.
Jimmy pressed a button. The stage filled with light and noise, the turn
marked on the program entered and, suddenly, under the dazzling light, it
was a series of somersaults, of flights from shoulder to shoulder, and the
muffled fall of feet on the thick carpet.

"There will be eight minutes of this," said Jimmy, taking out his watch.
"What have you to say to me, Mr. Clifton?"

Oh, what he had to say was very simple; he wouldn't have mentioned it
himself, but Mrs. Clifton had asked him to. To cut a long story short,
wasn't it a shame that gentlemen should throw bouquets on the stage when
Lily was giving her show? Like last night, for instance: why, it was
making game of a child, putting ideas into her head! Lily, of course, paid
no attention to it. However, was it or was it not allowed to throw or send
bouquets on the stage?

"Why, you know it is!" said Jimmy. "How would y