The dresses for Shakespeare were also professional, and we had help, for without the matron and Nelly Dunston and Minnie Dunston, and a maid or two, the dresses would not have fitted, and so caused derision. But they did well, and we looked very realistic, though my Jewish gaberdine was too long to the last. However, nobody noticed, though naturally they did notice when Antonio’s beard carried away, and it spoilt the pathos, because some fools laughed, instead of taking no notice, as any decent chaps would have.
Well, of course, the excitement was to see how the half-crown seats went off at Tomson’s, and they weren’t gone in a moment, by any means. You could book both half-crowners and eighteen-pennies, which came next, and people put off their booking a good deal. But when the programme was out, the booking improved, and five people booked in one day. It was rather interesting to hear who had booked, and Mitchell was allowed to go to the shop every morning after school to know how things were going. Sir Neville Carew, from the Manor House, took five half-crown seats in the front row, and Dr. Dunston himself took the next five. This news, we greeted with mingled feelings, yet, as Mitchell pointed out, he might have had them for nothing, which was true. The masters all took half-crown seats dotted about the big hall, and when Briggs asked Brown why they had done this, instead of sitting together, Brown said: "To applaud your efforts, Briggs, and suggest a consensus of opinion if we can." As a matter of fact, we didn’t want their wretched applause when the time came, for we got plenty without it.
The most sensational person to take a half-crown seat was old Black, from next door. He had always been our greatest enemy, and hated us, and he never gave anything back that went over his wall, and made us pay instantly if we did any damage, or broke a pane of glass, or anything; yet there he was. He sat in the second row, and not a muscle moved from first to last, and he never clapped once. Yet, extraordinary to say, the most remarkable thing about the whole performance had to do with old Black, though the amazing affair didn’t come out till next morning.
Mitchell calculated that, if every seat was taken, we should clear thirty-four pounds odd, and he rather hoped the programmes would bring it up to thirty-six. From that, however, had to be subtracted the cost of the dresses and the professional man from Plymouth, and also the cost of the programmes and the piano man. It looked as if we should be good for a clear thirty pounds; but only if the house was full.