THE THEATRICAL ENTERPRISE.
When it became known among that portion of the mercantile world of
which Ben and Johnny were members that Mopsey Dowd, the pea-nut
merchant of Fulton Ferry, had connected himself with the theatrical
enterprise about which so many comments had been made, the matter put
on an entirely different aspect, and it was at once shrewdly guessed
that he had put in the greater portion of the working capital.
There no longer seemed to be any doubt as to the success of the
enterprise, and Ben, Johnny, and Paul found their regular business
seriously interfered with by those of their acquaintances who were
anxious to become actors. Had they given a position to each of their
friends who asked for one, they would have been obliged to have given
the entertainment without an audience, for all their acquaintances
would have been employed in the theatre.
Master Dowd had foreseen this difficulty, and before he had been a
member of the firm five minutes he decided that no actors outside the
firm should be employed, and that Nelly should do something towards
the entertainment, probably in the way of a song. As to
ticket-sellers, door-keepers, ushers, and such officers, Mopsey felt
reasonably certain that Mrs. Green would consent to take her knitting
and fill all the positions by sitting at the door, where she could
collect the money for admissions, keep the audience in order, and keep
a general eye to the safety of her house, all at the same time.
Thus, when any one pleaded old friendship, or services rendered, as a
reason why they should be admitted as members of the company,
everything was made plain and pleasant by referring to the mutual
agreement that prevented any more actors, however brilliant they
thought they were, from being engaged.
The public, or a certain portion of it, were more than anxious to know
what the opening play was to be, and many inquiries were made of the
first three of the partners, even before they had succeeded in
procuring the material for the stage. Finally they spoke to Mopsey
about it, for they thought the curiosity of their expected patrons
should be satisfied.
Owing to its being generally understood that Mopsey was an author,
making dramatic literature a specialty, the other partners, advised by
Nelly Green, had left the important question of what the opening play
should be entirely to the pea-nut merchant. When he was questioned on
the subject by his partners, he refused to give them any information
save that he was thinking up something which would go ahead of
anything yet written, and that he would make the result of his
thoughts known in due time.
Meanwhile the boys continued their regular business, for they had
wisely concluded that it would not do to let the theatrical enterprise
interfere with that which they knew would provide them a living, until
the new scheme had been shown a success.
Paul had become quite proficient in the work of selling newspapers,
and although he had not overcome the feeling of homesickness which
would creep over him every night, he was becoming more reconciled to
his lot, because each day's work seemed to bring him nearer to the
attainment of his object.
Ben and Johnny had forgotten their plan of writing a letter to some of
Paul's friends, or of proposing that he should do it, because of the
great scheme of the theatre; and if either of them thought of it after
it had first been spoken of, it was only as a useless labor, since, as
soon as their place of amusement was open, they would all have money
enough to go anywhere they wanted to.
Business had been as good as they could have expected. Of course they
did not have such a rush as they had been favored with during the
first two days that Paul was in partnership with them, because the
news was not so exciting; but they did so well that their board was
paid for a week before they had been at Mrs. Green's four days, and
they had begun to think of adding to the theatrical fund.
Ben had heard of a small lot of timber which could be purchased for
one dollar and a half, and Johnny insisted that each member of the
firm be called upon for an addition of forty cents to his regular
investment, which demand was promptly met. In four days the work on
the scenery had advanced so well that Johnny felt sure enough papers
had been pasted together, at least until after the stage had been
built, and the timber was purchased and carried into the attic at
once. It was no slight work to build the stage to their satisfaction,
and the four labored hard two entire evenings before it was completed.
But when it was up, they were fully repaid for all they had done, so
thoroughly business-like did it look, and such a theatrical appearance
it gave to the attic.
To be sure, one end was a few inches higher than the other, and there
were not boards enough to floor the space completely over; but the
first defect could and would be remedied by the scenery, and the
second could be gotten over by a little extra care when they walked.
Besides, Mopsey was not just certain but that those very holes could
be utilized by him in his construction of the play for some very
startling and novel effects.
The painting of the scenery was an artistic bit of work, which Johnny
was certain he and Nelly, with perhaps some trifling assistance from
Paul, could do in such a manner as would delight their patrons and
cover themselves with credit. Therefore that portion of the work was
left entirely in their hands one evening, while Ben and Mopsey started
out to call on Dickey Spry for the purpose of consulting with him as
to how they could procure material with which to build seats, for
Dickey was supposed to be quite an authority in such matters.
Very little had been seen of Master Spry by this firm of dramatic
managers, authors, and actors since the night on which he had
purchased his old home. He had gone back to the business of blackening
boots, as he had said he should; but he was plying his trade in Jersey
City, in the hope that he might learn of the whereabouts of the boy
who had ruined him. Therefore it was only right that they should call
upon him, because of their friendship, even if they had not wanted his
advice. With this twofold purpose in view they started out, fearing
that they should not find him at home.
But their fears were groundless, for when they reached the hogshead,
Master Spry was discovered at a feast of herrings and crackers. He was
not a boy who indulged in any useless conversation; and when he saw
who his visitors were, he welcomed them by passing to each a herring
and a cracker, which was really more eloquent than words.
While he was eating, Ben glanced around, in order to see what changes
the new occupant had made. The only unfamiliar thing he saw was a
large sheet of brown paper tacked up at the end of the hogshead. On
this paper was printed the following notice, the letters having
evidently been made by a chewed stick, with liquid blacking
considerably diluted with water:
RuNNeD AwAy
tiM DooLy RuNNed AWAy
WitH ALL THe THInGs
i HAD oN My PeNUT STAND IN
GeRsey SITe AN i WILL PAy ENNy
FelleR TeN CENTS WHAT WILL
TeLL Me WHeR He is.
D. sPRy.
It is impossible to say what good Master Spry thought he could effect
by having this notice put up in his own home, where no one would see
it but his friends, who knew all the particulars; but it seemed to
afford him a great deal of satisfaction to look at it, which Ben
concluded was the reason why he had done it.
"Hain't heard nothin' 'bout Tim?" asked Ben, after he and Mopsey had
spelled the notice out with considerable difficulty, and many
misgivings as to whether Jersey should be spelled with a G or a J.
Dickey shook his head and tried to sigh; but he had such a large piece
of herring in his month that he did not dare to attempt it.
"I don't 'xpect I ever shall," he said, sadly, as soon as he had
swallowed enough of the fish to admit of his speaking plainly. "I've
offered to give ten cents, jest as I've got it there, if anybody will
tell me where he is; but I don't hear nothin' of him."
Ben and Mopsey sat for a few moments in silence, as if to better
express their sympathy, and then the latter asked,
"How's biz, Dick?"
"Well, it ain't so awful good, nor it ain't so dreadful bad," was the
non-committal reply. "I s'pose I shall get along; but I wish I could
git a holt of Tim Dooley; then I'd be pretty well fixed."
The visitors looked as if they thought it would be of very little
advantage to Dickey if he should succeed in finding the defaulter, and
Dickey said, quickly, as if they had spoken their doubts,
"If I can catch him, I'll make him pay me back somehow, whether he's
got it or not."
It was rather a rash assertion; but Dickey spoke so confidently that
his visitors thought it best not to argue the question, and Ben
concluded that it was about time to proceed with the business for
which they had come. After he had explained just what it was they
needed for the completion of their theatre, during which time Dickey
sat rubbing his chin, the personification of wisdom, the two waited
for Master Spry to give them the benefit of his knowledge.
It was some time before he condescended to speak; but when he did, it
was slowly and emphatically, to show that his mind was fully made up,
and could not be changed.
"I know where there's a lot of boards that I could trade for, an' you
could put some blocks under each end of them, an' have the best kind
of seats. But, yer see, I've bin thinkin' that you oughter taken me
inter company with yer, for I can act all round anybody you've got in
that crowd. Now I'll git all ther seats yer want, an' carry 'em up
there, if you'll let me come in with yer."
[Illustration: "HOW'S BIZ, DICK?"]
It was a sudden proposal, and the two did not know what to say for
some moments. It was gratifying to them, because Master Spry was very
cautious in making any venture, and that he was anxious to become a
partner showed that the public looked with favor upon the scheme, or
Dickey Spry would have been the last boy to propose partnership.
"But each one of us have put in seventy-three cents," said Mopsey,
hesitatingly, after he had thought the matter over for several
moments.
"An' s'posin' I git as many as twenty long boards, an' the blocks to
put under 'em, won't that be a good deal more'n that much money?"
Judging from the price they had paid for the timber with which the
stage had been built, they knew that Dickey's offer was a good one;
and after that young gentleman had gone out into the yard in order to
allow them to discuss the matter privately, Mopsey said, as they
called him back,
"We're willin' to 'gree to it, an' take you in with us; but of course
we've got to see what Johnny an' Polly say to it, an' if you'll come
over to the house with us, we'll fix the thing right up quick."
By way of reply, Dickey jammed his hat more firmly on his head, and
extinguished the candle--which actions his visitors understood to mean
that he would accompany them.
During the walk Ben was anxious to know where and how Master Spry was
going to procure this lumber which he offered for an interest in the
concern; but Dickey did not hesitate to say that he would not tell
them until after the question as to whether he was to be a partner or
not had been settled, lest they should take advantage of the
information, and then refuse to make him an equal owner.
This seemed to cast a doubt upon their honesty; but they did not take
offence at it, because Master Spry was suffering from the wickedness
of a boy whom he had trusted, and it was only natural that he should
be suspicious.
When they arrived at Mrs. Green's, and ascended to the attic which was
the scene of so much industry, they found that the amateur artists had
made great progress in their work, although it was shown more by the
dense coloring that had been put on the newspaper scenery than from
any very fine effects.
Johnny had two wide strips of paper, completely covered with patches
of black and green, that were to be placed either side of the stage
where the audience would see them, as one sees the wings at a more
pretentious theatre. He pointed to his work with evident satisfaction,
and assumed an injured look when neither one of the new-comers
understood that it was a very fine representation of a forest.
Paul and Nelly were industriously engaged in coloring two other wings
with alternate stripes of red and blue; but their work was not
sufficiently advanced to render it possible to form any idea as to
what it was, and they refused to give any information until they had
finished it.
After the coloring of the scenery had been admired, and Dickey had
examined with a critical eye all that had been done, Ben stated to
Johnny and Paul the proposition which Master Spry had made, declaring
himself in favor of accepting it.
Of course, after the advantages of this new connection had been
explained, the artists were perfectly willing to admit Mr. Spry as a
partner, and he was informed of the fact, with the intimation that it
was necessary to have the seats there as quickly as possible.
Dickey promised to begin his labor on the following morning; and then,
while the others worked on the scenery, he related to them the success
he should make as an actor, provided he was given a part which
admitted of his carrying a sword and shield.