had risen from nothing. Harrasford, to go no farther ... a chap who had
climbed every rung of the ladder: a small music-hall first; then two; then
a big one; then two; then ten. And a whole army now toiling and moiling
for him every night, for him the chief and master.

"Oh!" thought Jimmy. "If I could only climb the ladder too!"

First of all, he must choose his line, for his efforts to tell. And, since
chance had given him a start at the theater, why not go on? Here his
scientific luggage would be of use to him. It was only a question of
adding pluck to it. He was the man to do so and now more than ever. Things
which used to seem impossible to him, such as his invention published in
_Engineering_, appeared quite feasible, now that he had watched Lily do
her wonderful feats of balancing on the stage. It was only a question of
courage and hard practice. Another line suggested itself: to find capital
and start a theater. As regards the stage itself, by this time he
understood the management of it from grid to cellar. He seemed to take in
at a glance that huge entirety, from the flies with their windlasses,
their bridges, the labyrinth of stairs, the maze of passages, down to the
dressing-rooms and the painted faces that filled them: here, a Lily;
there, a buck nigger; farther on, a living-picture girl. He felt all this
rustle round him, carried it all in his head: he knew it all, from the
porter's box at the stage-door to the glittering front of the house, with
its palm-trees and its liveried chuckers-out. Jimmy knew what to think of
the enchantments of the stage, those luminous visions which the audience
admired to the tune of the orchestra: jealousies, vanities, hatreds to
knock up against and calm down; recruits to put through their paces; and
the whole day of it--and the whole night, too--for a few pounds a week,
including the tips received from the artistes, twenty-five to forty
shillings a month.

But Jimmy had his idea: he was determined to obtain a thorough grasp of
the business; he had already taken possession of the stage-manager's room
and of his desk with the many compartments: photographs, programs,
contracts, electric light, staff, scenery. A whole small people depended
upon him, and asked his advice, bragged of its successes or told him of
its misfortunes. And here again was Clifton continuing his jeremiads: they
would drive his daughter silly by making game of her, pretending to be in
love with her, at h