They gave performances every arf hour from ha'-past six to ten, and Rupert felt ready to drop. His feet was sore with dancing and his throat ached with singing Zulu, but wot upset 'im more than anything was an elderly old party wot would keep jabbing 'im in the ribs with her umbrella to see whether he could laugh. An Elderly Old Party Wot Would Keep Jabbing 'im in The Ribs With Her Umbrella. They 'ad supper arter they 'ad closed, and then Mr. Alfredi and 'is wife went off, and Rupert and George made up beds for themselves in the shop, while Kumbo 'ad a little place to herself at the back. He did better than ever next night, and they all said he was improving fast; and Mr. Alfredi told 'im in a whisper that he thought he was better at it than Kumbo. “Not that I should mind 'er knowing much,” he ses, “seeing that she's took such a fancy to you.” “Ah, I was going to speak to you about that,” ses Rupert. “Forwardness is no name for it; if she don't keep 'erself to 'erself, I shall chuck the whole thing up.” The manager coughed behind his 'and. “And go back to the Army?” he ses. “Well, I should be sorry to lose you, but I won't stand in your way.” Mrs. Alfredi, wot was standing by, stuffed her pocket-'ankercher in 'er mouth, and Rupert began to feel a bit uneasy in his mind. “If I did,” he ses, “you'd get into trouble for 'elping me to desert.” “Desert!” ses Mr. Alfredi. “I don't know anything about your deserting.” “Ho!” ses Rupert. “And wot about my uniform?” “Uniform?” ses Mr. Alfredi. “Wot uniform? I ain't seen no uniform. Where is it?” Rupert didn't answer 'im, but arter they 'ad gone 'ome he told George that he 'ad 'ad enough of acting and he should go. “Where to?” ses George. “I'll find somewhere,” ses Rupert. “I sha'n't starve.” “You might ketch your death o' cold, though,” ses George. Rupert said he didn't mind, and then he shut 'is eyes and pretended to be asleep. His idea was to wait till George was asleep and then pinch 'is clothes; consequently 'is feelings when 'e opened one eye and saw George getting into bed with 'is clothes on won't bear thinking about. He laid awake for hours, and three times that night George, who was a very heavy sleeper, woke up and found Rupert busy tucking him in. By the end of the week Rupert was getting desperate. He hated being black for one thing, and the more he washed the better color he looked. He didn't mind the black for out o' doors, in case the Army was looking for 'im, but 'aving no clothes he couldn't get out o' doors; and when he said he wouldn't perform unless he got some, Mr. Alfredi dropped 'ints about having 'im took up for a deserter. “I've 'ad my suspicions of it for some days,” he ses, with a wink, “though you did come to me in a nice serge suit and tell me you was an actor. Now, you be a good boy for another week and I'll advance you a couple o' pounds to get some clothes with.”