"specialty performers," musical wonders, acrobats, lightning artists,
ventriloquists, and last of all, "The feature of the evening, the
crowning scientific achievement of the nineteenth century, the
kinetoscope." McTeague was excited, dazzled. In five years he had not
been twice to the theatre. Now he beheld himself inviting his "girl" and
her mother to accompany him. He began to feel that he was a man of the
world. He ordered a cigar.

Meanwhile the house was filling up. A few side brackets were turned on.
The ushers ran up and down the aisles, stubs of tickets between their
thumb and finger, and from every part of the auditorium could be heard
the sharp clap-clapping of the seats as the ushers flipped them down. A
buzz of talk arose. In the gallery a street gamin whistled shrilly, and
called to some friends on the other side of the house.

"Are they go-wun to begin pretty soon, ma?" whined Owgooste for the
fifth or sixth time; adding, "Say, ma, can't I have some candy?" A
cadaverous little boy had appeared in their aisle, chanting, "Candies,
French mixed candies, popcorn, peanuts and candy." The orchestra
entered, each man crawling out from an opening under the stage, hardly
larger than the gate of a rabbit hutch. At every instant now the crowd
increased; there were but few seats that were not taken. The waiters
hurried up and down the aisles, their trays laden with beer glasses.
A smell of cigar-smoke filled the air, and soon a faint blue haze rose
from all corners of the house.

"Ma, when are they go-wun to begin?" cried Owgooste. As he spoke
the iron advertisement curtain rose, disclosing the curtain proper
underneath. This latter curtain was quite an affair. Upon it was painted
a wonderful picture. A flight of marble steps led down to a stream of