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Cook, Dutton, 1829-1883

"A Book of the Play Studies and Illustrations of Histrionic Story, Life, and Character"

We shall be all right, never fear. It's a
race-night; the house will be full and noisy. Little of the play will
be heard, and we need not be over and above particular as to the syls"
(syllables).
But Steadfast came down to the theatre very late, instead of early,
and troubled with a thickness of speech and an unsteadiness of gait
that closely resembled the symptoms of intoxication. "Sober!" he said,
in reply to some insinuation of his comrade, "I'm sober as a judge.
I've been running to get here in time, and that's agitated me. I
shall be all right when I'm on. Take care of yourself, and don't fret
about me."
The curtain was up, and they had to face the foot-lights. Moreland
waited for Steadfast to begin. Steadfast was gazing vacantly about
him, silent save for irrepressible hiccups. The audience grew
impatient, hisses became audible, and an apple or two was hurled upon
the stage. Moreland, who had gathered something of the subject of the
scene, found it absolutely necessary to say something, and began to
gag:
"Well, Steadfast" (_aside to him_, "Stand still, can't you?"), "here
we are in England, nay, more, in London, its metropolis, where
industry flourishes and idleness is punished.


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