"Are you going to have much of an intermission?" inquired Smith.
"Oh, ten or fifteen minutes or so. You know we must give Big Ed, the proprietor of the emporium, as well as of the Academy, a chance to do a little bit of business. Besides, it's awfully dry work listening to good music, fine songs, and strong acting without something to help you to thoroughly enjoy them."
"That's true. That's a great first part, Mr. Handy. Music, song, vocal and instrumental; dance, oratory, and tragedy. Great, great!"
"Miss De Vere will start in after the intermission with that beautiful and thrilling song, 'Down in a Coal Mine.' Some member of the company, whoever knows it, can recite 'Shamus O'Brien,' or some other equally popular recitation."
"These two numbers will be sure to catch 'em," remarked Smith, with a broad grin of appreciation.
"Then will follow a dance, 'The Fox Hunter's Jig,' by Mr. Myles O'Hara, a prominent citizen of Gotown, who has in the most generous and patriotic manner volunteered to add to the festivities for this occasion. It will be his first appearance on the stage. The music for this event will be supplied by the celebrated Irish piper, Mr. Dinny Dempsey, who will also be seen on the stage in native Irish costume and full regalia. Then, Smith, you can trot out one of your well-known comic monologues that you are so famous in. After that we'll wind up with 'The Strollers' Medley,' in which all the company will take part, and Daisey De Vere can do a favorite stunt of dancing now and then to fill up the gap. Now, then, go to work. Get the people busy and have them in good working order. Call a full dress rehearsal at one o'clock on the stage at the Gotown Academy of Music, so that we'll all know what we've got to do at night. I think that's all just now."
There wasn't an idle hour for the remainder of the day and the greater part of the next by the company, under Smith's guidance, preparing for the anniversary event in Gotown. There were rehearsals, and rehearsals, and more rehearsals.
Friday evening, between eight and nine o'clock, Handy, his partner, and the stage manager of the Weston Theatre, arrived in Gotown with the borrowed scenery and props. Ed McGowan and assistants were at the station with three wagons to convey the stage accoutrements to the newly built temple of Thespis that was to open its doors to the public the following night. It was an all night job of preparation, but there were many and willing hands to do what they were bid, under the direction of Handy and his pro tem stage manager.
A student of the drama, had he been present, might have been carried back in thought a century or over, when many of the great players of days that are no more had to go through somewhat similar experiences. The Booths, the Cookes, the Keans, the Kembles, the Forrests, the Jeffersons, the Wallacks, and other great actors whose names are written on the imperishable tablets of fame have traveled over just such roads. Smith and the company, after a good night's rest and a hearty breakfast, reached Gotown early in the forenoon.
At fifteen minutes past seven o'clock the doors of the Metropolitan Academy of Music were thrown open, and at eight o'clock there was not an unoccupied space in the house. The Handel and Hayden Philharmonic musicians took their places in front of the stage and began the overture. It consisted of a medley of familiar airs. The audience was so well pleased with what they heard that the musicians had to let them have it again. Then the curtain went up and "Box and Cox," a rather original version of the old farce, opened the show. It created some laughter, but the people came there to be pleased, and they were. "Old Black Joe" was sung, with an invisible chorus, and brought down the house. Daisey De Vere's coon song, with original business and grotesque imitations, made another big hit. Signor Collenso's classic—and it was well rendered—was tamely received, but when he treated his auditors to "Molly Bawn" and the "Boys of Kilkenny" they went into ecstasies. This was followed by the appearance of the rising young lawyer, who paid a glowing tribute to Shakespeare, and then introduced King Richard and Richmond to fight it out to a finish on Bosworth field for England, home, and booty. It was certainly a most elaborately grotesque combat. The people in front liked it apparently, and goaded on the combatants to redoubled efforts, and when the tyrant king was knocked out three cheers and a tiger were given with a vengeance, and the curtain fell on the first part amid uproarious applause.