“A fight――a prize-fight――whatever you like to call it. Come on an’ we’ll go to the Comet, only for the Lord’s sake don’t say anythin’ about it at home!” “Are you not allowed to go?” “Allowed! Wait till you know them a bit better. The boss’s idea of an enjoyable evenin’ is some Sankey and Moody touch.” We turned down a side street, and then another and another, till I completely lost my bearings; but very soon George said, “There it is, Coxy. You’re goin’ to see a bit of life, eh?” and pointed to a small theatre at the opposite side of the road. Above the entrance, a round purplish globe threw down a pool of light on the dirty pavement. A number of men and youths in caps, and with mufflers round their necks, hung about the door, talking and spitting, and at the corner some small boys looked on. George pushed boldly in and I followed. We took tickets for the front seats from an extremely friendly and pock-marked person, who wore a black patch over one eye. When we got inside we found there were not many spectators in our part of the house, but the pit, at the back, was already crowded. “That’s the thunder and lightning over there,” said George, jocosely, “in other words, the nuts. How would you like to be in among them?” But the stragglers who kept dropping in and taking seats all round us did not seem to me to be very different. A branch of lights hung from the ceiling, and other lights fell from the flies on to the curtainless stage. A kind of gray mist, doubtless the accumulated smoke of many nights, floated in the air, and a sickly-looking youth was hammering out music-hall tunes on a worn-out, toneless piano. The stage was quite bare, save for three double rows of yellow wooden chairs, that composed three sides of a parallelogram, and within which was a space marked off by a thick rope stretched about four stout posts clamped to the floor. Over this rope, at two diagonally opposite corners, hung towels, and in each corner was a chair, a heap of sawdust, a basin, a sponge, and a water-bottle. There was no person on the stage, and these bare accessories, possibly because I saw them now for the first time, had to my eyes a most suggestive appearance. I began to feel excited: this unadorned stage appeared to me to be distinctly thrilling. By degrees the house filled up. The audience, though mixed, was on the whole a very rough one, and there were no women. “Twig the peelers,” said George, and I noticed half a dozen policemen lounge in and take up positions in different parts of the auditorium.