Ever since Molly was eight years old, I had celebrated her birthday by taking her to see that hardy old stage annual "Peter Pan." This year, I thought that it would be a gracious act to include Gran'pa in the ceremony, more particularly as he had just paid me that initial five thousand dollars, due under Clause 3 (_a_) of our written agreement. So the three of us journeyed up to town early, had dinner, and then went to the theatre to see Barrie's wonderful version of Eternal Youth. As Gran'pa had not been to a theatre since he was sixty-five--that is over thirty years previously--it was not surprising to find him deeply moved by the opening scene in the nursery. When Mrs. Darling sang her three offspring to sleep in their little cots, I noticed Gran'pa sentimentally blinking his eyes. Presently, Peter Pan entered and Gran'pa sat up and became very restless. He craned his neck upwards and forwards and sideways to improve his view of the stage; he twitched, he made little excited grunts of merriment, he giggled when Peter let Tinker-bell out of the drawer, and he roared when the boys began taking lessons in the art of flying. As the play proceeded so Gran'pa's excitement grew, until people in front commenced turning around and glowering at us. "Restrain yourself, Gran'pa!" I whispered, nudging him in the ribs. "Do what, George?" he asked, without even taking his eyes off the stage. "Keep quiet and don't fidget so much." "But it's so _exciting_!" He quietened down for a little while, but completely lost his head when the underground scene came on. The first appearance of the pirates and the wolves had been trying enough to his feeble powers of self-restraint, but they were nothing to those thrilling moments, when the pirates vanquished the Indians and captured the children, and the green-faced Captain Hook poisoned Peter's medicine. When the curtain dropped on that scene, Gran'pa was in a terrible state of excitement. "Come and have a brandy," I whispered. "Thanks, George! I think I will." I led him to the bar and there he steadied his nerves and I quenched my thirst. After that, he was much better and managed, without collapsing, to get through the ghastly nightmare of the Doodle-Doo Quest on the Pirate Ship. But there were moments when Molly and I were compelled to hold him down in his seat. "Disgraceful!" I heard someone growl behind us. "Absurd, bringing a doddering old chap of that age!" whispered another. In spite of the low, angry murmurs of the audience in our immediate vicinity, we contrived, however, to sit through the whole play without causing a riot, and when we eventually left the theatre, I explained to Gran'pa exactly what I thought of him. "I couldn't--help it!" he said listlessly, as if every drop of his energy had gone. "But it's so pitifully weak and selfish, behaving as you did," I remonstrated. "Think how it annoyed the other members of the audience." He tried to answer but could not.