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The orchestra were tuning up, that delightful tilting at the notes that precedes the overture. To Moses were revealed such vistaed glimpses of trees and mountains and rivers as his young eyes had never seen. He saw nothing but the gorgeous scenery and the blaze of lights, and heard nothing but the booming of the drum in the overture. Then becoming more used to the glare and clamor, he cocked one eye aloft and saw youths of his own age eating peanuts in the gallery. It made his mouth water. He surveyed the obnoxious offenders however with the nonchalance of one who has already dined sumptuously. Outwardly Moses was an overgrown, freckle-faced, well-fed boy of commonplace propensities; inwardly he was a battery fully charged. “Oh go on Betty, a daddy-long-legs’d die of starvin’ on what you eat.” “Then where are they?” demanded Mrs. Wopp. “You are as bad as Anias and Sapphire who was carried out feet foremost. Go when I tell you. An’ you Betty, go upstairs an’ mend that orful, yawnin’ gap in yer stockin’. Now we hev got rid of the younguns Howard, will you read out what you was larfin’ at?”.

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“Shade of Beelzebub! Where did you spring from?” shouted the astonished man. “I am given to understand by the best fashion-plates, Mrs. Wopp, that the garment you term an ‘underwaist’ is now designated a casserole.” The magic name won the day. Bess was ever dreaming of the land of mystery, whose pictured daughters of old she resembled; and the chance to masquerade in its atmosphere lured her. Mrs. Wopp repeated the words, slowly rolling them on her tongue as though to extract every ounce possible of scriptural nutriment, “So they took up Joner and carst him forth inter the sea.”.