necessary censor what is going on. The constable at this particular
play was kind enough to offer me his seat. The rest of the audience
was content with the floor. The poor little company of players brought
to their work both ability and an artistic conscience, but they had to
do everything in the rudest way. They were in no way embarrassed by
the attendants frequently trimming the inferior oil lamps on the
stage. A little girl on the floor, entranced by the performance on the
stage, or curious about some detail of it, ran forward and laid her
chin on the boards and studied the actors at leisure. The folk in the
front row of the gallery dangled their naked legs for coolness.

One of my friends asked me how we managed in the West to identify the
people who wanted to leave the theatre between the acts. I explained
that as our performances did not last from early afternoon until
nearly midnight it was rare for anyone to wish to leave a theatre
until the play was over. At a Japanese playhouse, however, a portion
of the audience may be disposed to go home at some stage of the
proceedings and return later. The careful manager of a small theatre
identifies these patrons by impressing a small stamp on the palms of
their hands.

From the theatre we went to the travelling shows. They charged 2 sen.
We were shown a mermaid, peepshows, a snake, an unhappy bear, three
doleful monkeys and some stuffed animals which may or may not have had
in life an uncommon number of legs. There was a barefaced imposture by
a young and pretty show-woman who insisted that two marmots in her lap
were the offspring of a girl. "Look," she cried, "at two sisters, the
daughters of one mother. See their hands!" And she held up their paws.
She rounded off the fraud by feeding the creatures with condensed
milk.