the road, filled with a noisy load of men.
They pulled up at the gate, with a prodigious shouting.

"Hello, Lime!"

"Hello, the house!"

"Hurrah for the show!"

"It's Al Crandall," cried Johnny, running down to the gate. Lime
followed slowly, and asked: "What's up, boys?"

"All goin' down to the show; climb in!"

"All right; wait till I git my coat."

Lime was working one of Graham's farms on shares in the summer; in the
winter he went to the pinery.

"Oh, can't we go, Lime?" pleaded the boys.

"If your dad'll let you; I'll pay for the tickets."

The boys rushed wildly to the house and as wildly back again, and the
team resumed its swift course, for it was getting late. It was a
beautiful night; the full moon poured down a cataract of silent white
light like spray, and the dew (almost frost) lay on the grass and
reflected the glory of the autumn sky; the air was still and had that
peculiar property, common to the prairie air, of carrying sound to a
great distance.

The road was hard and smooth, and the spirited little team bowled the
heavy wagon along at a swift pace. "We're late," Crandall said, as he
snapped his long whip over the heads of his horses, "and we've got to
make it in twenty-five minutes or miss part of the show." This caused
Johnny great anxiety. He had never seen a play and wanted to see it all.
He looked at the flying legs of the horses and pushed on the dashboard,
chirping at them slyly.

Rock Falls was the county town and the only town where plays could be
produced. It was a place of about 3,000 inhabitants at that time, and to
Johnny's childish eyes it was a very great place indeed. To go to town
was an event, but to go with the men at night, and to a show, was
something to remember a lifetime.

There was little talk as they rushed along, only some singing of a
dubious sort by Bill Young, on the back seat. At intervals Bill stopped
singing and leaned over to say, in exactly the same tone of voice each
time: "Al, I hope t' God we won't be late." Then he resumed his
monotonous singing, or said something coarse to Rice, who laughed
immoderately.

The play had begun when they climbed the narrow, precarious stairway
which led to the door of the hall. Every seat of the room was filled,
but as for the boys, after getting their eyes upon the players, they did
not think of sitting, or of moving, for that matter; they were literally
all eyes and ears.

The hall seated about 400 persons, an