'Did yer ever 'ear of anyone spraining an ankle on purpose?' asked a scene-shifter.
'Hush!' said the gas-man, 'he'll 'ear you.'
Amid murmurs of applause, Mr. Hayes backed into the wings.
'Well, was it all right?' he asked Dick.
'Right, my boy, I should think it was; there was a touch of Gladstone in your accidentally sprained ankle.'
'What do you mean?' said the discomfited acting manager.
'I haven't time to tell you now. Now then, girls, are you ready?' he said, rushing on to the stage and hurriedly changing the places of the choristers. Putting his hand on a girl's shoulder, he moved her to the right or left as his taste dictated. Then retiring abruptly, he cried, 'Now then, up you go!' and immediately after thirty voices in one sonority sang:
'"In Corneville's wide market-pla-a-ces,
Sweet servant-girls, with rosy fa-a-ces,
Wait here, wait here."'
'Now, then, come on. You make your entrance from the top left.'
'I don't think I shall ever be able to do that run in.'