It is very likely that he would have made a good impression if it had not been for that portion of his costume that did not properly belong to the character he was assuming. The long ends of tape that he had insisted on allowing to hang down from his ankles persisted in getting under his feet, and he tripped himself up with a force that gave Hamlet a genuine fright. The sheet which covered Ben’s head prevented him from rising as quickly as he would have liked, and while he was trying to disengage himself from it, Paul, realizing that he should run away, did so by leaping over the prostrate ghost, to the great delight of the patrons.
The shock of Ben’s fall and Paul’s leap so shook the frail structure which Johnny had built that the curtain came down with a thud, tearing away from its fastenings above, and the poor ghost was made doubly a prisoner by this additional covering.
“Don’t tear it, Ben!” shouted Johnny, fearing lest his artistic labors in the way of the “Wild Indian” would be ruined, and then he and Mopsey sprang on the stage, rescuing the curtain from the frantic clutch of the ghost, and leaving that worthy to get to his feet as best he might.
Of course the audience enjoyed all this highly; and while they hooted and shrieked in the excess of their delight, Ben succeeded in escaping from the rather awkward mantle.
“I can dance, if I don’t do the ghost very well!” he shouted, almost angrily, to the noisy audience; and then he began to prove the truth of his words with a force that threatened the immediate destruction of the entire theatrical surroundings.
And the audience seemed to realize that Ben could dance, for they insisted on his continuing that portion of his duties until he was bathed in perspiration, and so tired that he could hardly move.
Of course, now that the curtain had been wrecked, there was no opportunity for dividing the acts, and after the applause which Ben’s efforts had produced died away, Mopsey sent Nelly on to sing again. The audience greeted her kindly, as before, and not only insisted on joining in the chorus, but demanded more than she had intended to give. They were evidently determined to get the full value of their money, and, suspecting that she would appear no more that evening, dictated to her such songs as they wanted to hear.
It was of no use for her to refuse, for they insisted upon their demands being complied with so noisily that the performance could not proceed until they were ready. She stood there singing until she was hoarse, while the entire company waited, in battle-array, for the time to come when they should make their last appearance in the great combat.
It was nearly half an hour before Nelly was allowed to go; and as soon as she was clear of the stage the waiting forces rushed on, displaying the most wonderful skill with their swords.
It would not be exactly correct to say that all of the company rushed on, for Dickey made his appearance very carefully. Of course he was obliged to come sideways, and he moved with great caution, lest he should fall down again, thus working more damage to the covers of Mrs. Green’s wash-boilers. But he got on with the others, even if he was slower in his movements, and soon was in the very midst of the mimic battle, apparently the most wounded one there, judging from the blows that were rained upon his armor.