The night’s work had begun.
For the three hours that ensued during the revue, ballets succeeded ballets. There were burlesques upon current topics and singing choruses. All through this the stage management was perfect.
CHORUS GOSSIP
When you consider the lack of room it was all the more remarkable.
“You see,” said the stage manager, during one of his free minutes, “we are terribly cramped for room here upon this old stage. Our biggest flats we set with this panorama arrangement”—and he pointed to two giant rollers, one on either side of the stage. Then, leading the way beneath the stage, he showed me the two great wheels and the dynamo that moved them.
“Look out!” said he, as we returned to the stage, “that is the finale of the commère’s song and we are going to make a quick change. Stand there!” he said, and instinctively I jumped for the spot he indicated. At the same instant the two electricians pulled a combination of switches and everything went black.
Scene-shifters hurried through the gloom with awkward sections of scenery, all of which had to be taken back through a doorway and replaced in order where they had come from. Others hurried on the stage with properties and sections for the new set.
The stage was, fortunately, warm, otherwise many of the petites Parisiennes who were descending the winding stairs would have suffered from even the slightest current of air, for most of their clothes had been left in the dressing-rooms above.
I saw among this “big family,” that are together during a long season, the best of camaraderie and unusual deference and courtesy by every man toward the women.