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the audience.
'We are, we are,' chorused the tenors and basses.
'H'mm . . .' said the actor thoughtfully, ' I realise, of course, how
bored you must be. Everybody else is out of doors now, enjoying the warm
spring sunshine, while you have to squat on the floor in this stuffy
auditorium. Is the programme really worth while? Ah well, chacun a son
gout,' said the actor philosophically.
At this he changed the tone of his voice and announced gaily :
'And the next number on our programme is--Nikanor Ivanovich Bosoi,
tenants' committee chairman and manager of a diabetic restaurant. This way
please, Nikanor Ivanovich! '
At the sound of the friendly applause which greeted his name, Nikanor
Ivanovich's eyes bulged with astonishment and the compere, shading his eyes
against the glare of the footlights, located him among the audience and
beckoned him to the stage. Without knowing how, Nikanor Ivanovich found
himself on stage. His eyes were dazzled from above and below by the glare of
coloured lighting which blotted out the audience from his sight.
'Now Nikanor Ivanovich, set us an example,' said the young actor
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