By the time this important question was settled, it was so late that no more work could be done that night; but before Dickey departed for his hogshead home there was an emphatic demand made upon Mr. Dowd for some particulars as to the play which he had promised to have in readiness for the opening night. It was then Wednesday; and since the first performance was to be given on the following Saturday evening, it did surely seem as if the actors should know what they were to do on that important occasion.
“It will be all right,” Mopsey said, so decidedly that they would have been obliged to be satisfied, even if he had not added, “Friday night we’ll all come here an’ practise, an’ then I’ll tell you all about it.”
On the following day business was so good that it was very late before any of the partners could get to work on their theatrical enterprise, and if their profits had not been so large, they would have deeply regretted the delay. But they worked the faster when they did get the chance; and while the others were interested in putting together the curtain, which bid fair to be a marvel of art, Ben labored industriously at making the tickets.
An acquaintance of his had a large lot of card-board clippings, which he had gathered from time to time as he delivered papers in a printing-office, and these Ben had purchased, with the understanding that he was to give free admission to the entertainment for them during three evenings, providing, of course, that the theatre remained open to the public that length of time. From these odds and ends Nelly had cut about a hundred tickets during the afternoon while she was in charge of the fruit-stand, and these Ben was converting into orders for admission by printing on them, in rather a shaky hand, and with a new lead-pencil he had bought for that express purpose, the following:
As it was proposed to charge eight cents for seats in the two front benches, Ben printed, in addition to the above, twenty very unique cards, similar to this:
