"I never read no po'try," I says, "if I see it first, but something'll be kicked up f'r keeps, if Terry ever drops down in that crowd." And then th' house quieted down, an' th' curtain went up f'r th' next act.
To-day was us, th' Americans. A little gen'ral with pompydoor hair—that looked natchral—walked round f'r a while, hablaring to his crowd, and then six men in khaki came in, carryin' th' flag, and th' other gang began to shoot them up. It warn't pretty to watch, on'y we didn't have time to watch it much. Th' Engineer an' me had one of Terry's arms, and Schleimacher was tryin' to keep a hand over his mouth and not get bit. Th' talk he was tryin' to make was shockin'. But we held him all right till th' Americans was lyin' round th' stage picturesque and dead as hell. An' then th' little girl grabs th' flag, and you could hear the audience draw a long breath.
I didn't think she'd dare to do it, but I suppose it was on th' programme and they didn't want to give no money back. Sure enough she spits on it an' tosses it on th' floor, and then—well, Terry brushes the Engineer and me out of his way, and steps up on the edge of the box and makes his little speech. "Boys!" he yells, "remember Balangiga an' th' rest of th' tricks they've played us. That's th' flag," and he hops down to the floor.
"Come on," I yells to the Engineer. "If he gets on that stage alone, it'll be murder," and down we jumps.
It was like slippin' off a ford into quick water. The women was screechin' and the men howlin' and the boys behind us was laughin' and shoutin' and bangin' every head that came their way, and some fool begun to let off a gun into the roof. But th' Engineer and me just kep' on down that aisle after Terry. Just when he reached th' musicians, the curtain came down, but he picks a fiddler, fiddle and all, and tosses him into th' rotten old cloth like a sack of beans, and goes through th' hole after him.
But it stopped him up enough so't the Engineer and me clumb through onto the stage right behind him. We piled onto him just as he was makin' a rush f'r a bunch of actors, and there was a good lively mix-up f'r a few seconds. Men began to come through the curtain in a dozen places, and th' racket in the house doubled up. I don't know just everythin' that happened, f'r th' minute Terry gave in a bit, we drug him out th' back way and cut up an alley, never stoppin' to find out where Schleimacher and the Artillerys was. And I s'pose them victoriers is out front there yet, waitin' for their money. And I'll bet there never was no To-morrer in that drayma, not that night.
We got out onto the corner where there's a saloon, and then we stopped to listen. Same as always, the minute Terry couldn't do no more harm, he was gentle as a child. "There's patriotism around all right," he says, cockin' his head toward the racket back at the theayter. "It on'y needs somebody to stir it up. I'll bet anybody five to one in beers that somebody gets hurt out of this before it's over," he says, as a extry loud howl and a ripple of shots busts loose fr'm the theayter, and a patrol-wagon comes ting-tingin' it down the street. "I make it beer," says Terry, "because I'm thirsty."
"Take you and lose," says th' Engineer. "Step in here and we'll pay up one of th'm now."
So we stepped in there, and we stepped in sev'ral other places, till we sort of got th' habit. I reckon we traveled all over Maniller after that, and had beers with about half th' Army. Th' last thing I remember, Terry had got patriotic again, an' was sayin' a po'm about th' flag. Then my thoughts got to advancin' in regimental formation, and I sort of went to sleep.
Th' dinky little guard-mount march was goin' next mornin'—I reckon it was next mornin'—when I woke up, so I knew somethin' was wrong. I reached f'r my rifle, me bein' warned for guard that day, and I found I was in th' guard-house a'ready, and Terry was poundin' his ear on a bunk beside me. My head felt like a caraboo had walked on it, an' I yelled to the sentry for water.