"There isn't one; take an empty cask, that will represent a stove well enough!"
"We must have a pie! there's a supper in the play."
"Take an empty flower pot, that will do very well for the pie."
"There's a bottle of Seltzer behind the first wing; that will pop like champagne."
All these incidents delayed the rising of the curtain; but the audience did not grumble, they laughed and found amusement in all that they saw. At last an amateur musician armed with a violin, and another carrying a clarinet in his arms like a baby, took their seats in front of the stage.
As for the prompter, there being no hole under the stage for him, he stood behind the drop curtain.
"This theatre in the midst of a forest is really very pretty!" said Madame de Grangeville, who was seated beside Madame Glumeau.
"Oh! you will see how pretty it is, madame la baronne, when the curtain rises; we have some lovely scenery: a Pompadour salon, painted by Monsieur Devoir; it is perfectly lovely."
"They begin with _OEil et Nez_, a little farce acted by Madame Dufournelle, my son and Monsieur Mangeot.--But it is very strange,--look about as I will, I don't see Madame Boutillon; and yet I am very sure that she came with her husband."
"She is a young lady who lives here in summer, as we do; she had on a very original, very pretty dress."
"If she has on a pretty dress, it isn't possible that she has hidden herself; she must be somewhere here."
The three knocks were given. The amateur with the violin started off and played the overture to Fra Diavolo; the clarinet started a few measures later, and played the overture to Jeune Henri; the two men played thus for some time, seeing who could go the faster, persuaded that they would finally overtake each other and play together. The audience opened their ears in amazement, but the wiser ones stuffed theirs.
"Sapristi! what on earth are they playing?" murmured a native, looking at his neighbor, who answered in an undertone:
"I don't know, but it's a terrible mixture."
At last the violin stopped, but the clarinet went on.
"We are not playing the same thing, that isn't right!" cried the violinist, waving his bow.
The clarinet refused to listen; he went on with his _Jeune Henri_. Luckily the curtain rose, the actors came on the stage; but as the clarinet kept on, they were obliged to rush upon him and snatch his instrument away.