You too, are welcome, sir.' 'He'll do, I think, my dear ?' said the manager, taking a pinch of snuff.
'He is admirable,' replied the lady.

'An acquisition indeed.' As Mrs Vincent Crummles recrossed back to the table, there bounded on to the stage from some mysterious inlet, a little girl in a dirty white frock with tucks up to the knees, short trousers, sandaled shoes, white spencer, pink gauze bonnet, green veil and curl papers; who turned a pirouette, cut twice in the air, turned another pirouette, then, looking off at the opposite wing, shrieked, bounded forward to within six inches of the footlights, and fell into a beautiful attitude of terror, as a shabby gentleman in an old pair of buff slippers came in at one powerful slide, and chattering his teeth, fiercely brandished a walking-stick.
'They are going through the Indian Savage and the Maiden,' said Mrs Crummles.
'Oh!' said the manager, 'the little ballet interlude.

Very good, go on.
A little this way, if you please, Mr Johnson.

That'll do.

Now!' The manager clapped his hands as a signal to proceed, and the savage, becoming ferocious, made a slide towards the maiden; but the maiden avoided him in six twirls, and came down, at the end of the last one, upon the very points of her toes.