Lydia Thomson had long been promised to be taken to the next Christmas Pantomime, and the happy day for this had now arrived. All the morning long Lydia was so restless she was unable to remain quiet for two minutes together. If she sat down to work, she was often obliged to get up and dance, and then to run and look out at the window,—then to run downstairs singing,—then to hop up again upon one leg,—then to run and look at the play-bill, and read it all through aloud,—then to try and read it topsy-turvy, and ask me to help her,—then to dance me up in the air,—then to run and roll over and over with me on the sofa, crying out, ‘Oh, Maria! oh, Maria! we’re going to see the New Grand Christmas Pantomime!’
At last the evening came. We were dressed in good time. My mamma, Lydia, wore a white frock and blue sash, and looked very nice; but she made me look beautiful, for she said I should be dressed in a way to suit a beautiful Pantomime; so she made me a frock of thin white muslin, and trimmed it with some little pink roses that her mamma gave her, and put a wreath of little pink roses round my hair. The carriage came to the door, and we drove off to Drury-Lane Theatre. There were Lydia’s papa and mamma, and her two cousins, and out they all jumped, ran past the crowd at the door, and up the stairs, till we reached a private box, which was exactly over one side of the stage, upon which we looked down with great expectation. I thought we should have seen better if we had been in a box in the middle of the theatre, but still this was very nice. We did nothing but clap our hands and look at the dark curtain. The play was over. We had not been allowed to come till the play was over, because Lydia’s papa said he knew we should be tired if we did.
The house was very full of people, and I began to look round me, and up and down in all directions. But who shall describe my pleasure and surprise when, looking up into the two-shilling gallery, whom should I see sitting in the very front row but the celebrated Mr. Sprat! On one side of him was his wife, who appeared to be eating periwinkles; on the other side sat his two sons and daughter; so that they every one of them had a front seat. Looking down into the pit, who should I next see but the master of the doll-shop, who had fancied himself Napoleon in a brown paper cocked hat, with his daughter and little Emmy at his side; but what gave me far greater pleasure was to see very near them, though a little in front, Ellen Plummy and her brother Thomas. Oh, my dear little Ellen Plummy, how I wished you were up here with us! She sat on the right-hand side of Thomas, and on his left was Nanny Bell. I now looked again round the house, and in a private box nearly opposite to ours, but larger and lower down, I saw a pretty, delicate little girl, most elegantly dressed, whom I at once recognized as my little lady mamma, Flora. I was so glad to be unable to see the least sign of any scars from the fire. She was in the middle of this large box, leaning over. At one side, almost hidden behind a red curtain and her large silk cloak, sat Lady Flowerdale. Somehow I immediately thought of Mary Hope, to whom I had been taken by the dog, Nep. I did not see her, it is true; but while I was thinking of her, and looking down into the pit, I saw Mr. Johnson, the portrait painter, peeling an orange. Looking at Mr. Johnson, with gratitude for all he had done for me after my burning, it naturally made me think of how much more gratitude I owed to the celebrated Mr. Sprat, who had made me, and I immediately looked up again towards the gallery where he sat. But happening at first to look too high, I caught sight, in the one-shilling gallery, of my little Italian mamma, Brigitta, and her brother Marco. They were laughing, talking, and cracking nuts.
Now we began to long for the Pantomime to begin. Presently we heard all manner of sounds going on behind the curtain—all manner of voices talking and calling, and buzzing and humming. The moving of boards, and hammering, and the placing of planks and beams, and pushing and pulling about of heavy things; and now and then through one side of the curtain we caught a glimpse of something so bright that went by, like tall flags on painted poles, and tops of spears, and parts of mantles of people’s dresses; and once, underneath the bottom of the dark green curtain, we saw run along a little pair of bright silver feet. The sound of drums and trumpets was also heard to begin in a disorderly manner, and then stop suddenly, and end in a murmur of many voices, and hurrying to and fro of many feet.
And now the band of musicians that played in the long orchestra beneath us came thronging in, and seized upon all sorts of very great and very small instruments, and began blowing and twanging, and trying up and down, and backwards and forwards, and squeaking high and flourishing about, and rumbling and tumbling, and working very hard to get into order. Then they were quite silent. Then tap! tap! went the fiddlestick of the leader of the orchestra, who sat upon his high stool—there was more silence than ever—and suddenly off they all went, all the instruments at once, and played away in a most wonderful manner—slow music, and quick music, and grand marches, and all sorts of dances, that made everybody’s heart jump within and try to do whatever the music was doing.
The band ceased playing, and very slowly indeed the dark curtain began to be drawn up. As it went creeping up towards the high roof, we gradually saw a great field in winter, all white with snow, and the snow coming down. As the dark curtain went up and the snow came down, it seemed that the box we were in was sinking downwards also. However, it did not.
The scene we looked upon was a very large field of snow, and large trees at the side all covered with snow, and great woods at the back. The snow presently ceased to fall, and we saw ranges of hills behind the woods quite white like the rest. All the time the music continued to play something that was so slow, and cold, and soft, and melodious, and grand.
The music was changed to an ugly, broken, hobbling, harsh sound, and at the farthest end of the field we saw a strong-made, little old man, in a dark blue cloak, appear, and come down towards the white shrubs in front, just under us. His hat was the shape of an extinguisher, but with a broad brim. As he approached, we saw that he had a large blue nose, and very large uneven teeth, and blue goggle-eyes! Ugh! how we all shivered, except Lydia’s papa and mamma, who laughed and told us not to be frightened. The music stopped, and this ugly, strong Dwarf then repeated these words:—
‘The frosty air shall take them,
And the wintery wind shall shake them,