heatre he
cannot sleep at night, and his costumer wisely packs him off early to
his bed. She whispers to me, however, that although he had hopes for a
storm at sea and a hanging at the end, his decision, nevertheless, is
cast in my favor for a quick production, whenever a worthy company can
be assembled.

[Illustration: On the tip of each he has bargained for a spot of red]

But we have gone still further toward our opening. The manager has
already whittled a dozen daggers and they lie somewhere on a shelf,
awaiting a coat of silver paint. On the tip of each he has bargained
for a spot of red. Furthermore, he owns a pistol--a harmless,
devicerated thing--and he pops it daily at any rogue that may be
lurking on the cellar stairs.

All pirates wear pigtails--pirates, that is, of the upper crust (the
Kidds and Flints and Morgans)--and at first this was a knotty problem.
But he obtained a number of old stockings--stockings, of course,
beyond the skill of that versatile person who mends the gaps--and he
has wound them on wires, curling them upward at the end and tieing
them with bits of ribbon. The pirate captain is allowed an extra inch
of pigtail to exalt him above his fellows. When he first adjusted this
pigtail on himself, his costumer cried out that he looked like a
Chinaman. This was downright stupidity and was hardly worthy of her
perception; but ladies cannot be expected to recognize a pirate so
instinctively as we rougher men. The stocking, however, was clipped to
half its length, and now he is every inch a buccaneer.

As for the captain's hook, he is resourcefulness itself. These things
are secrets of the craft, but I may hint that there is a very suitable
hook in a butchershop around the corner. Surely the butcher--warmed to
generosity by the family patronage--would lend it for the great
performance. I have no doubt but that the manager, from this time
forward, will beg all errands in his direction and that his smile will
thaw the friendly butcher to his purpose. Certainly two legs of lamb,
if whispered that the drama is at stake, will consent to hang for one
tremendous day upon a single hook. Our hook is to be screwed into a
block of wood, and there is something about knuckles and a cord around
the wrist and a long sleeve to cover up the joining. Anyway, the
problem has been met.

[Illustration: His smile will thaw the friendly butcher to his
purpose]

In the furnace room he has found a heavy sheet of tin