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“But you must look at it like this,” said Alyosha, smiling. “Grown-up people go to the theater and there the adventures of all sorts of heroes are represented—sometimes there are robbers and battles, too—and isn’t that just the same thing, in a different form, of course? And young people’s games of soldiers or robbers in their playtime are also art in its first stage.
The blossoms are dropping, it is almost a mild snowfall, and yet the trees seem full. Yesterday we went to the theater again, the Imperial, a party of ten filling two boxes. We were taken behind the scenes and shown the green rooms, etc., and introduced to an actor and to his son, about eleven, who appeared on the stage later and did a very pretty dance.
These missionary brothers and sisters had chosen as the theater of their labor that part of our broad land which was pleasantly christened Pennsylvania, and selecting a portion of the southern area, they founded their colony and called it "Ephrata."
Then work became drudgery, and love naught. The woman went back to her theater and another man, a man who had gold a-plenty. And the child grew up playing alone beside the silent, grim Irishman. "Then one day the child played with no one by to watch her; the man had walked over the cliff and forgot ever to come back.
When he got up he was lame and it was only with great difficulty that he managed to return to the stable. "Bring out Pinocchio! We want the little donkey! Bring out the little donkey!" shouted all the boys in the theater, touched and sorry for the sad accident. But the little donkey was seen no more that evening.
The compartment on the left is exactly similar, save that it opens into the traces of other chambers, said to be those of a hippodrome adjacent to the theater. Various fragments are visible which refer themselves plausibly to such an establishment; the greater axis of the hippodrome would appear to have been on a line with the triumphal arch.
She made a strange gesture as of a prisoner running his fingers across the barred window of a cell. "Thank you for warning me. Thank you for telling me what to do." She smiled faintly. "I think he will know me, anyway," she said, "but I won't know him. Never! Never!" That night the theater was late in emptying itself.
It originated right here in this theater. There is a firm of music publishers in this town makes up slides of its songs, and all you have to do is stand beside the screen and sing to the stereopticon illustrations. Understand? You don't have to follow the pictures. The pictures follow you.
One of these was put up at Athens in the Theater of Bacchus, alongside of that of the great writer of tragedy, AEschylus, and the other at the Theater of the Istiaians, holding in the hand a small ball.
"Don't be any more vulgar than you can help," Eva retorted. "And I think you know, as well as I, what it means to have that Overton boy interested in Ethel." "If he's interested in her," Ben blundered, "I guess the fact that Ethel's uncle went to the theater with someone who isn't Ethel's aunt won't cause a shudder to run up and down his frail young frame, will it?" "All right," Eva had retorted.
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