"Is--is she an actress?" ses Rupert.

"One o' the best," ses the manager. "She'll teach you to dance and shy
assegais. Pore thing! she buried her 'usband the day afore we come here,
but you'll be surprised to see 'ow skittish she can be when she has got
over it a bit."

They sat there while Rupert practised--till he started shying the
assegais, that is--and then they went out and left 'im with Kumbo.
Considering that she 'ad only just buried her 'usband, Rupert found her
quite skittish enough, and he couldn't 'elp wondering wot she'd be like
when she'd got over her grief a bit more.

The manager and George said he 'ad got on wonderfully, and arter talking
it over with Mrs. Alfredi they decided to open that evening, and pore
Rupert found out that the shop was the theatre, and all the acting he'd
got to do was to dance war-dances and sing in Zulu to people wot had paid
a penny a 'ead. He was a bit nervous at fust, for fear anybody should
find out that 'e wasn't a real Zulu, because the manager said they'd tear
'im to pieces if they did, and eat 'im arterwards, but arter a time 'is
nervousness wore off and he jumped about like a monkey.

They gave performances every arf hour from ha'-past six to ten, and
Rupert felt ready to drop. His feet was sore with dancing and his throat
ached with singing Zulu, but wot upset 'im more than anything was an
elderly old party wot would keep jabbing 'im in the ribs with her
umbrella to see whether he could laugh.

[Illustration: An elderly old party wot would keep jabbing 'im in the
ribs with her umbrella.]