and had evidently been prepared in anticipation of the rush of patrons which it was almost certain would fairly besiege the place before they were ready to receive them.
Once in the theatre, it was seen that Dickey and Mopsey had not been wasting their time, for there was such a collection of cast-off uniforms and weapons as would have furnished a much larger company than theirs with outfits. The two who had gathered this remarkable collection together were standing over it in conscious pride; but Mopsey did not give them much opportunity for admiration.
“Now all hands turn to an’ git dressed,” he said, in a tone of authority, well knowing that his command would be willingly obeyed. “We’ve got to be sure to be ready, an’ we can eat dinner after we’re rigged up jest as well as not.”
As it was only too evident that Mopsey would be obliged to superintend the dressing of each boy, the party stood waiting for him to designate the one who should receive the first attention.
“We’ll start on you, Dickey,” said Mopsey; and some of the party thought that while the two had been alone that day, Master Spry had stipulated that he should have the honor of being arrayed first.
Dickey stepped in front of the busy-looking manager, his face beaming with delight, and his mouth open so wide that his smile seemed almost a grin.
Among the collection out of which Shakespeare’s characters were to stalk into view were quite a number of Mrs. Green’s kitchen utensils, and nearly all of the party were puzzled as to what was to be done with them when Dickey’s toilet explained everything. Two tin covers that had evidently been taken from the wash-boilers were fastened on Master Spry’s chest and back, and Mopsey insisted on lashing them on so strongly, lest they should become displaced in the fight, that poor Dickey found it impossible to hang his arms down by his side, but was obliged to hold them straight out, very much to his discomfort. A tin saucepan, somewhat the worse for wear, and well blackened, was placed on his head for a helmet, and in his hands a huge cavalry sabre. To throw a dash of color into what would otherwise have been a rather sombre-looking costume, Mopsey laced a quantity of red tape around each leg, which gave him a very striking appearance, to say the least.
But every rose must have a thorn, and Dickey soon found out what particular thorn there was in wearing the costume of Macbeth. In the first place, since he could not use his arms sufficiently to bring them around in front of him, he was obliged to dispense with a shield, for it would have been worse than useless; and again, when he tried to sit down, after he had been admired by his companions, he found that the tin covers were so long that they doomed him to stand until the close of the performance. He would have liked a rest just then, for he was very tired, but the exigencies of the case, and costume, prevented him, and he leaned up in the corner, looking, save about the legs, like a turtle in a restaurant window.