ir groupings. Now the
fat freaks had. To combine German discipline with English gracefulness,
that was the question; to have the troupe of troupes; to have a Lily who
would be worth more by herself than Polly, Edith and Lillian put together.
But that meant work and going through the mill! This last made Pa think of
the old sheep and their bleatings. He gave a nervous little laugh and his
hand had a convulsive movement, as though to strangle those pests.

Pa had recovered his good humor and was grinning by the time they reached
the theater. Merely by his way of taking the key of his dressing-room from
the stage-doorkeeper one recognized the owner of a troupe, the man with a
"permanent address," the manager, the boss, the prof, the Pa. On entering
the lobby, he, with his six girls, took possession of the theater. He
nodded to the staff; growled a "Lazybones!" as the Roofers passed out two
by two, always two by two: a fair one with made-up eyes, a dark one with
kiss-me-quick lips; sniffed their cheap perfumes amid the tarry smell of
the packages marked Sidney, New York, Paris....

[Illustration: "QUICKER, MY WOOLLY-LEGS!"]

On reaching the stage, Pa first gave a glance to make sure that there were
no elephants, or ponies, or Merry Wives, that they could practise at their
ease, without having to burrow in a corner, like rats. The stage was
almost empty. After the live street, it was a pallid light, in which
ghosts moved. The New Zealanders, it need not be said, no longer fancied
themselves in the cavern of Bluebeard or Puss-in-Boots; they had seen too
many stages during the past two years. The slant of the floor, the
roughness or smoothness of the boards was what interested them, for fear
of falls and barked shins. Pa hurried them to their dressing-room to get
into their knickers, while he took off his jacket and turned up his
trousers, so as to run better. No more time to lose, with his Lily! He was
still in a fever from seeing those Pawnees last night. As for the stage
and the boards, a lot he cared, slanting or straight, rough or smooth! To
work! to work! And he got ready the bikes, which Tom had brought down,
without a glance around him.

To a poet, to a painter, that glance would have been worth the taking. The
iron curtain was raised, the house loomed vaguely; the balconies, covered
with cloth, stood out like cliffs; the pit, with its seats under a gray
drugget, because of the dust, lifted toward the stage its rows