he edge of his sword that it fell from his not over-strong
grasp, striking directly on the toes of the blood-thirsty Richard.

There was a howl of pain as Mopsey dropped his sword with a clang, and
appeared trying to gather his feet into his arms, where he could nurse
them, while this shock of weapons on the frail stage caused such a
motion of the foot-lights that two of them fell to the floor, smashing
the bottles. The audience in the reserved seats, anxious to prevent
any disturbance of the performance, scrambled for the candles, and the
two who succeeded in getting them before they were extinguished kindly
held them in their hands during the remainder of the scene.

"Don't you know enough to fight when the time comes?" cried Mopsey,
who, having given up the useless task of nursing his bruised feet,
picked up his sword again and advanced once more upon the timid
Othello, who was trying to decide whether he should remain there or
run away.

These words had the effect of spurring Johnny on to a more perfect
acting of his part, more especially since some of his friends in the
audience cried out, in a friendly way, "Go for him, Shiner, an' give
him fits."

Then Johnny did "go for" his adversary almost too strongly, for he
refused to die as Mopsey had told him he must, but continued to
strike out wildly with his sword, hitting Mopsey's weapon a portion of
the time, and when he failed in that, coming so near Richard's face
that it seemed certain he would slice off one of his ears or his nose.

It was a furious combat, truly, and the audience favored it with the
most generous applause, some inciting Mopsey and others Johnny to
renewed exertions, until Mrs. Green started up in alarm, fearing that
a riot would ensue.

"Why don't you die?" whispered Mopsey, hoarsely, as he panted from
exertion, and believed that in justice to the other performers the
battle should end.

But Johnny refused positively to die, and it is probable that he would
have continued the fight as long as he had strength or breath left,
had he not been the victim of his own architectural shortcomings. He,
the one who had built the stage, actually forgot the pitfalls in the
form of spaces left uncovered because of lack of lumber; and in the
excitement and fury of the battle, minding only the shouts of
encouragement from the audience, he fell into one of these yawning
pits, and Richard had a chance to become himself once more. With head
down and heels