Rupert.

"One o' the best," ses the manager. "She'll teach you to dance and shy
assegais. Pore thing! she buried her 'usband the day afore we come here,
but you'll be surprised to see 'ow skittish she can be when she has got
over it a bit."

They sat there while Rupert practised--till he started shying the
assegais, that is--and then they went out and left 'im with Kumbo.
Considering that she 'ad only just buried her 'usband, Rupert found her
quite skittish enough, and he couldn't 'elp wondering wot she'd be like
when she'd got over her grief a bit more.

The manager and George said he 'ad got on wonderfully, and arter talking
it over with Mrs. Alfredi they decided to open that evening, and pore
Rupert found out that the shop was the theatre, and all the acting he'd
got to do was to dance war-dances and sing in Zulu to people wot had paid
a penny a 'ead. He was a bit nervous at fust, for fear anybody should
find out that 'e wasn't a real Zulu, because the manager said they'd tear
'im to pieces if they did, and eat 'im arterwards, but arter a time 'is
nervousness wore off and he jumped about like a monkey.

They gave performances every arf hour from ha'-past six to ten, and
Rupert felt ready to drop. His feet was sore with dancing and his throat
ached with singing Zulu, but wot upset 'im more than anything was an
elderly old party wot would keep jabbing 'im in the ribs with her
umbrella to see whether he could laugh.

[Illustration: An elderly old party wot would keep jabbing 'im in the
ribs with her umbrella.]

They 'ad supper arter they 'ad closed, and then Mr. Alfredi and 'is wife
went off, and Rupert and George made up beds for themselves in the shop,
while Kumbo 'ad a little place to herself at the back.

He did better than ever next night, and they all said he was improving
fast; and Mr. Alfredi told 'im in a whisper that he thought he was better
at it than Kumbo. "Not that I should mind 'er knowing much," he ses,
"seeing that she's took such a fancy to you."

"Ah, I was going to speak to you about that," ses Rupert. "Forwardness
is no name for it; if she don't keep 'erself to 'erself, I shall chuck
the whole thing up."

The manager coughed behind his 'and. "And go back to the Army?" he ses.
"Well, I should be sorry to lose you, but I won't stand in your way."

Mrs. Alfredi, wot was standing by, stuffed her pocket-'ankercher in 'er
mouth, and Rupert began to feel a bit uneasy in his mind.

"If I