"And no comic songs?..."
"Sure, you'll see for yourself in a wee minute!"
John's neighbour considered. "I wonder would they give me my money back if I was to go to the pay-box and let on I was sick!"
"They'd never do that," said John. "They'd know rightly you weren't sick by the look of you!"
The boy returned the programme to John. "Well, I wish they'd hurry up and begin," he murmured.
The members of the orchestra came through a door beneath the stage and took their places, and the sound of fiddles being tuned was heard for a while. Then the leader of the orchestra came to his place, and after a pause, the music began.
"A fiddle's great value," John's neighbour whispered to him. "I'm a great hand at the Jew's harp myself!..."
The music ceased, the lights were lowered in the theatre and the footlights were raised, throwing a great soft yellow glow on the picture of the Lakes of Killarney which decorated the drop-curtain. Then, the curtain was rolled up, and the performance began.
He had been interested by the play when he read it, but now he was enthralled by it. He wished that the boy sitting next to him would not keep on asking for the programme every time a fresh character appeared on the stage and would refrain from making comments on the play while it was being performed. "Them people wore quare clothes in them days!" he had whispered to John soon after the play began, and when Shylock made his first entrance, he said, "Ah, for Jase' sake, look at the oul' Sheeny!"
"Ssh!" said John. "Don't talk!..."