"What the bleak Helvellyn's the good of bringing the piece without any scenery?"
"Isn't there any scenery in your theatre?"
"I've told you what cloth you can have, my boy. That's the best we can do."
"It's no use offering us Hyde Park Corner when we want a blooming mosque! ... Well, let's have a look at it!"
Mr. Omee shouted for "Bates."
There was a lull, and then from unseen heights a voice announced that Bates had just "stepped outside."
Mr. Omee ramped in the pit.
The shouts for "Bates" were resumed—the rafters rang with the name of "Bates"—and after some minutes a discomfited working man slouched onto the stage, to be received with a volley of abuse. He was understood to retort that he was unable to be in two places at once, and parties who expected it might find someone else to do the work, that was the straight tip. Those nearest to him also learnt that he had a poor opinion of the job at its blessed best.
"Let's have that Hyde Park cloth," commanded Mr. Omee. "Come on, look alive, man—hurry up!"
"What I want to know," grunted the low comedian, "is 'ow I'm to get that wheeze of mine into that song. That's what's bothering me."