"Well—now the storm is over," said Mrs. Dodcomb, "and here is a castle scene by moonlight."
"And a very pretty moon it is," observed Mrs. Jones, "all solemn and natural."
"Not very solemn to me," said Mr. Dodcomb, "as I know it to be a bit of oiled linen let into a round hole in the back scene, with a candle put behind it."
"Wonders will never cease!" ejaculated Mrs. Jones. "And there's an owl sitting up in that old tumble-down tower—how natural he blinks!"
"Yes," said Mr. Dodcomb, "his eyes are two doors, with a string to each; and a man climbs up behind, and keeps jerking the doors open and letting them shut again—that's the way to make an owl blink. But here comes the bleeding ghost, that wanders about the ruins by moonlight."
The children all drew back a little, and looked somewhat frightened; it happening to be the first ghost they had ever seen.
"Dear me!" said Mrs. Jones, drawing her shawl closely round her, "what an awful sight a ghost is, even when we know it's only a play-actor! This one seem to have no regular clothes, but only those white fly-away things—how deadly pale it is—and just look at the blood, how it keeps streaming down all the time from that great gash in the breast!"
"As to the paleness," explained Miss Flimbrey, "it's only that the face is powdered thick all over with flour; and as to what looks to you like blood, it's nothing but red ribbon, gathered a little full at the top where the wound is, and the ends left long to flow down the white drapery."
"Why this beats all the rest!" exclaimed Mrs. Jones, "Well—I never shall see a bloody ghost again without thinking of meal and red ribbon."
Previous to the last act of the melo-drama, a man belonging to the theatre came and called Mr. Dodcomb out of the box to ask him if he would be so obliging as to go on the stage for a senator in the trial scene, one of the big boys that usually assisted in making out this august assemblage having unexpectedly run away and gone to sea. Mr. Dodcomb (who was not entirely unused to lending himself to similar emergencies) kindly consented; and, after returning to whisper the circumstance to his wife, he slipped out unobserved by the rest of the party. When the drop-curtain again rose, eight or ten senators, with venerable white wigs, were seen sitting in a sort of pews, and wearing pink robes and ermine capes; which ermine, according to Miss Flimbury, was only white paper spotted over with large regular splotches of ink at equal distances.