The afternoon of the day of the show an unexpected storm loomed up, which threatened the enterprise with destruction. It seems that Handy had visited New London before with a somewhat similar venture, and had been compelled by financial circumstances which he was unable to control to depart the town in a hurry, leaving behind him an unpaid printer's bill. Now a slight omission of that character very easily escaped Handy's memory. The printer, on the contrary, being a thoughtful man, on finding that Handy was the manager of the new all-star theatrical outfit, made his appearance with the sheriff and a writ of attachment. For a time the aspect of affairs was anything but cheering. The printer was as mad as the traditional hatter. Fortunately the sheriff, who was an old Bowery man in days past, and a pretty decent and sympathetic kind of a fellow, discovered in Handy an old acquaintance, and magnanimously came to the rescue and volunteered to help him out of his difficulties. The kind-hearted official guaranteed the payment of the printer's bill, to be taken out of the first receipts that came in at the box office. This arrangement being mutually agreed upon, the preliminary work progressed actively. The night brought a crowd, composed mainly of the country people who had attended the fair. It was the biggest, best natured, and most easily entertained audience a theatrical company ever played to. There were more bucolic auditors gathered together in the tent than the troupe had seen previously. Handy had the country band well in hand. He made them play down the main street and parade up to the tent. Then he got them inside and astonished his auditors with such a liberal manifestation of music that those present could not well decide whether they had come to listen to a concert or have an opportunity to see the real "theayter" actors. Handy evidently was determined to furnish them with music sufficient to last them until the next Fair day. The band played so long that the town element among the audience became somewhat unwelcomely demonstrative. The curtain at last arose, and the variety portion of the entertainment began. The tent was well filled,--the front rows of seats being unpleasantly near the stage. The minstrel act in the first part was something unique and original. The country people took it seriously, but the town contingent, recognizing the fake element, started in to indulge in guying the performers. This incensed the countrymen. They had paid their good money to see the show without being subjected to annoyance from the town fellows. One particularly strenuous young New London dude had his derby smashed by an excited rustic who determined that his Phoebe Ann should enjoy the entertainment even if he himself had to make peace by teaching the city chap the way to behave himself and keep quiet. He evidently meant business and apparently had many friends who were not only ready, but willing, to assist him.