-with its forest of hats, caps and helmets, of every conceivable pattern, hanging from the ceiling, and its busy Irishwoman, receiving articles which had been worn the night before, and folding them and laying them away, as carefully as if they had really been the property of kings, and lords, and knights.

"Are you going to buy your dress, then ?"

"Why, yes, I must have a Scotch dress. I shall want it for Macbeth, some day, you know."

There was no getting that craze out of his head!

As I had promised to see him safely through this business, I went with him to a store, where he bought a very fine article of plaid for his kilt; he then wanted a black velvet jerkin or waist, and bought three yards of black silk velvet, at twelve dollars a yard.

"The next question is," said he," where do I get my pink silk trowsers, you know."

"Your pink silk trowsers? I do not quite understand you, Mr. Pennyweight. What do you mean by your pink silk trowsers? You certainly do not expect to play the Bleeding Captain in trowsers of pink silk, like a burlesque actress ?"

"No!-that is-you see-well, I suppose that is not exactly the professional term for 'em. But, you know— those things they wear on the stage in place of trowsers, you know."

"Do you mean your tights? I will show you."

The place was not far off, and while Pennyweight went into an inner room, for consultation, I stayed without; but, the door remaining open, I could hear, though I could

not see.

"Mon Dieu!" said a Frenchman's voice, "but you cannot play ze part wiz dat leg!"

and ze spindle-shank-all tree as one!"

What's wrong with my legs?"

(The

"Mais, monsieur, you have ze knock-knee, ze bow-leg,

Here was a revelation in regard to the symmetry of the irresistible Pennyweight.

"It shall be necessaire to have ze pair of pad," said the

man.

"Pads?"

"Oh, mais oui, monsieur, ze leg is vaire bad."
"And can you really remedy all the defects of"

"Oh, oui, monsieur. We remedy all of it. We make you to-day one leg zat is better zan ze leg of ze nature." Why, you're quite an artist, aren't you?"

66

"Merci, monsieur. It is vair agreeable to meet one Americain dat appreciate. Oh, ze good day have come

184

THE CRITICAL MOMENT AT HAND.

for ze artiste de pad. Odder day zere was so very little practice; but now-aha!-le Mazeppa, and le Black Crook-we have enough to do."

When Pennyweight returned he blushed guiltily.
Thus padding doth make cowards of us all.

The fearful first night came at last, and poor Pennyweight was in a pitiable plight. The perspiration stood on his forehead, and his lips were white with fright. "Are you sure you know the lines?"

"Oh, I'm dead-letter perfect. Hear me."

I held the book while he struck an attitude, and rerepeated the lines without a mistake.

"Now be brave-speak out loud, remember."

He said he would remember, and the curtain rang up. The play of Macbeth opens with a scene by the three witches, beginning with the well-known lines:

with only ten lines more, when the scene opens and discloses a camp where King Duncan, Lenox, Malcolm, Donalbain, and attendants, meet a wounded soldier-none other than my friend Pennyweight.

The first line of this scene is spoken by King Duncan, who says, "What bloody man is that?"

And here poor Pennyweight suddenly remembered that he had quite forgotten to smutch his face with blood, and so he was not a "bloody man" at all.

Malcolm then turns to the soldier, and says

"Hail, brave friend: Say to the king

Thy knowledge of the broil

As thou didst leave it."

And this was Pennyweight's cue to speak. He began, but in such a low and tremulous voice that immediately wild cries of "louder, louder," issued from the galleries.

Confused beyond measure at this unexpected greeting, poor Pennyweight choked, gasped, and finally-stuck. Here the prompter came to his aid.

The lines were somewhat difficult, running thus: "As whence the sun 'gins his reflection,

Shipwrecking storms, and direful thunders break;

So from that spring whence comforts seemed to come,

Discomfort swells."

The prompter, confused at Pennyweight's sticking, and not at all familiar with the lines himself, began prompting wildly thus:

"As when the sun jins his reflection," which was uttered in so loud a tone that everybody in the audience heard it, and Pennyweight, taking it up with sense and consiousness all but gone, shouted at the top of his voice,

"And when the sun gin slings reflection-"

No ear could hear more. There broke from the audience a thunder of laughter which echoed and re-echoed from parquet to gallery-from boxes, balcony, and all over the house-so loud and terrible that poor Pennyweight fell back upon his litter as if he had been stunned.