this sort of concert, and Philip was thinking that it was the most stupid

one he ever sat through, when just as the soprano was in the midst of

that touching ballad, "Comin' thro' the Rye" (the soprano always sings

"Comin' thro' the Rye" on an encore)--the Black Swan used to make it

irresistible, Philip remembered, with her arch, "If a body kiss a body"

there was a cry of "Fire!"

The hall is long and narrow, and there is only one place of egress.

Instantly the audience was on its feet, and a rush began for the door.

Men shouted, women screamed, and panic seized the swaying mass.

A second's thought would have convinced every one that getting out was

impossible, and that the only effect of a rush would be to crash people

to death. But a second's thought was not given. A few cried:

Sit down, sit down," but the mass was turned towards the door. Women

were down and trampled on in the aisles, and stout men, utterly lost to

self-control, were mounting the benches, as if to run a race over the

mass to the entrance.

Philip who had forced the girls to keep their seats saw, in a flash, the

new danger, and sprang to avert it. In a second more those infuriated

men would be over the benches and crushing Ruth and Alice under their

boots. He leaped upon the bench in front of them and struck out before

him with all his might, felling one man who was rushing on him, and

checking for an instant the movement, or rather parting it, and causing

it to flow on either side of him. But it was only for an instant; the

327

The Gilded Age