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ROAMIN' IN THE GLOAMIN' 293
off his head. He immediately let bow and fiddle fall to the ground and put up his hands to discover what had happened to his thatch. Almost at the same moment the viola player two rows behind — the man who hated rats — saw something furry scurry between his legs. Bounding up from his chair with a wild shriek he seized his viola by the neck and brought it down, crash ! on what he thought to be a member of the loathsome tribe of rodents. Instantly the theatre was in an uproar. The diabolist bolted off the stage; the other musicians stopped playing to let their merriment have full sway, while the audience, completely puzzled by the commotion in the band-pit, rose to their feet in alarm and many of them hurried from the theatre under the impression that several of the orchestra had all at once gone mad! Tom himself was rather upset at the too complete success of his practical joke.
At Denver one evening the demand for admission was so heavy that the management arranged some dozens of seats round the stage. The seat nearest the orchestra on the prompt side was occupied by an elderly gentleman with a long beard and a pair of chilly blue eyes and I could not help noticing that he never allowed his stern features to relax for an instant. All my patter, jokes and prancings around left him stone cold. So when I came to sing "A Wee Deoch-an-Doris" I determined to have one smile out of the guy even if I had to throw a double somersault or bat the conductor one on the bean with my crooked stick. An idea occurred to me — why not get him to join in the chorus ? So at the end of the opening verse I went over to him, first holding up my hand to the audience for silence, and genially remarked, "Now, father, throw oot yer chest and join me in this chorus !" The old man got up from his seat, poked a threatening forefinger in my face and observed in a highpitched voice audible all over the theatre, "See, here, Lauder, I ain't none o' yer bloody chorus — I paid for my seat up