| 275 | 276 | 277 | 278 | 279 |
| 1 | 133 | 265 | 398 | 530 |
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observed that she should think so, and that she never could help
believing Mr Christopher must be under a mistake - which Kit
wondered at very much, not being able to conceive what reason she
had for doubting him. Barbara's mother too, observed that it was very
common for young folks to change at about fourteen or fifteen, and
whereas they had been very pretty before, to grow up quite plain;
which truth she illustrated by many forcible examples, especially one
of a young man, who, being a builder with great prospects, had been
particular in his attentions to Barbara, but whom Barbara would have
nothing to say to; which (though everything happened for the best)
she almost thought was a pity. Kit said he thought so too, and so he
did honestly, and he wondered what made Barbara so silent all at
once, and why his mother looked at him as if he shouldn't have said
it.
However, it was high time now to be thinking of the play; for which
great preparation was required, in the way of shawls and bonnets, not
to mention one handkerchief full of oranges and another of apples,
which took some time tying up, in consequence of the fruit having a
tendency to roll out at the corners. At length, everything was ready,
and they went off very fast; Kit's mother carrying the baby, who was
dreadfully wide awake, and Kit holding little Jacob in one hand, and
escorting Barbara with the other - a state of things which occasioned
the two mothers, who walked behind, to declare that they looked quite
family folks, and caused Barbara to blush and say, 'Now don't,
mother!' But Kit said she had no call to mind what they said; and
indeed she need not have had, if she had known how very far from
Kit's thoughts any love-making was. Poor Barbara!
At last they got to the theatre, which was Astley's: and in some two
minutes after they had reached the yet unopened door, little Jacob
was squeezed flat, and the baby had received divers concussions, and
Barbara's mother's umbrella had been carried several yards off and
passed back to her over the shoulders of the people, and Kit had hit a
man on the head with the handkerchief of apples for 'scrowdging' his
parent with unnecessary violence, and there was a great uproar. But,
when they were once past the pay-place and tearing away for very life
with their checks in their hands, and, above all, when they were fairly
in the theatre, and seated in such places that they couldn't have had
better if they had picked them out, and taken them beforehand, all
this was looked upon as quite a capital joke, and an essential part of
the entertainment.
Dear, dear, what a place it looked, that Astley's; with all the paint,
gilding, and looking-glass; the vague smell of horses suggestive of
coming wonders; the curtain that hid such gorgeous mysteries; the
clean white sawdust down in the circus; the company coming in and
taking their places; the fiddlers looking carelessly up at them while
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