The audience, for the most part made up of young men and women, seldom had much sympathy to waste on the amateurs, and it must be a very brave youth or maiden who essayed to do a “stunt” under the circumstances. “Here are two tickets to the Jollity Theater,” said Mr. Emberg. “Go up there to-night, take someone with you if you like, and give us a good funny story to-morrow.” Larry was delighted at being able to go to the theater without paying, but he was a little doubtful of his ability to do the story. However, he resolved to try. He told his mother of it at supper last night. “I’ll take Jimmy with me,” said Larry. “I’m afraid your brother’s too young to go out, as you will have to stay rather late,” said Mrs. Dexter. “Can’t you take Harry Lake?” referring to a boy who lived on the floor below the Dexter apartments. “I guess I will,” replied the young reporter, and soon he and Harry were on their way to the theater. The play was one of the usual melodramatic sort but to Larry and Harry it was very interesting. They watched eagerly through the first act, as did hundreds around them, but there was more interest displayed when the manager came before the curtain. He announced that a number of amateurs had come to go through their various “turns,” and added that they would be allowed to stay and amuse the audience as long as the latter seemed to care for the offerings. When too much displeasure was manifested the performers would be obliged to withdraw, being forcibly reminded to leave, sometimes, by being pulled from the boards by a long-handled hook which the stage hands stuck out from the wings, or sides of the stage. “Johnny Carroll, in a song and dance specialty,” announced the manager as the first number, and then he retired to give place to Johnny. The latter proved to be a tall, thin youth, who shuffled out upon the stage and stood there looking about rather sheepishly. “Ladies an’ gen’men,” he began in such weak tones that someone shouted: “Take your voice out yer pocket!” “I’m goin’ t’ dance a jig!” cried Johnny, defiantly, and the orchestra struck up a lively tune. Three times the young performer tried to get into step, but something seemed to be the matter with his feet, for they would not jig. A general laugh ran around. “I’m goin’ t’ sing!” cried Johnny, in desperation. “I’ll give you that latest song success, entitled, ‘Give Me Another Transfer, This One Has Expired,’” and the orchestra began playing the opening strains. Johnny opened his mouth to sing, but, as his voice was rather less harmonious than a crow’s, he was met with howls of laughter. “T’ou’t ye was goin’ t’ sing!” someone in the top gallery shouted. “Give me a chanst!” pleaded the performer. “Get the hook! Get the hook!” shouted several, and out from the wings came an instrument like a shepherd’s crook. Johnny was removed from the stage, protesting in vain.