as there to be no respite from the steady flow? John suddenly
remembered the candy, and reached for his overcoat.

"Oh," exclaimed Louise, as the white, pink-stringed box was brought
forth. Sid stopped, obviously disconcerted. John unwrapped the dainties
and threw the paper on the floor.

"Have some?" he asked as he lifted the cover.

The lady's lips closed over a chocolate-covered caramel. Sid's did
likewise. John helped himself to a third and leaned back happily. At
last a way of silencing his adversary had been found.

[Illustration: _Silencing his adversary._]

Conversation was temporarily impossible, so the trio gazed eagerly
around them. Just ahead, sat a shop girl in a shabby best dress, with a
head of blonde, mismatched hair, and beside her, her escort, an Irish
mechanic, who shifted his head from time to time as the unaccustomed
collar scraped his neck. Across the aisle was a family of towheaded
Swedes, the father self-conscious in his carefully pressed black suit;
the mother, watchful of her two mischievous, blue-eyed urchins. Young
gallants of the neighborhood filled the boxes at either side of the
auditorium, taking this, the most expensive, means of proving their
devotion to their lady loves. In the rear of the theater were the first
and second balconies, occupied by voluble men and women of all ages and
nationalities. Ahead, hung the stage curtain, decorated with staring
advertisements, "Lamson, the neighborhood undertaker," "Trade at the
corner grocery. Vegetables always at the lowest market prices,"
"Snider's drug store, prescriptions, choice candies, and camera
supplies," and the like. From somewhere in the heights came a sharp
"rap-rap-rap," which echoed even to the more forward rows on the main
floor.

"Gallery," explained John. "Fellow knocks on the back of one of the
benches to make the boys behave." His jaws resumed the burden of
reducing that persistent caramel to a swallowable state.

The orchestra of five filed solemnly in through the little door beneath
the stage and took their accustomed places. A dart, propelled by an
urchin of the upper regions who evidently had no fear of the monitor's
stick, sailed serenely downward and found a resting place in a blonde
lock of the salesgirl's hair. The footlights flashed on, and the
musicians struck up a lilting, popular air, as Sid cleared his throat.

"Then the cowboy--" he began.

"Have another?" interrupted John, extending the box of tenacio