he witches. "The Jupiter
Tonans of the theatre, _alias_ the property-man, approached and seized
the barrel. Judge the breathless fear of my hero--it was too great for
words, and he only shrunk closer to the bottom of his hiding-place.
His tormentor proceeded to cover the open end of the barrel with a
piece of old carpet, and to tie it carefully, to prevent the thunder
from being spilt. Still George Frederick was most heroically silent;
the machine was lifted by the Herculean property-man, and carried
carefully to the side scene, lest in rolling the thunder should rumble
before its cue. It would be a hopeless task to paint the agitation of
the contents of the barrel. The property-man, swearing the barrel was
unusually heavy, placed the complicated machine in readiness, the
witches entered amid flames of rosin; the thunder-bell rang, the
barrel renewed its impetus, and away rolled George Frederick and his
ponderous companions. Silence would now have been no virtue, and he
roared most manfully, to the surprise of the thunderer, who,
neglecting to stop the rolling machine, it entered on the stage, and
George Frederick, bursting off the carpet head of the barrel, appeared
before the audience just as the witches had agreed to meet when 'the
hurly-burly's done.'" Cooke's biographer, Mr. William Dunlap, thought
that this story bore "sufficient marks of probability." It must be
said, however, that as to anecdotes touching their heroes, biographers
are greatly prone to be credulous.

The illusions of the stage were much enhanced by Garrick's Alsatian
scene-painter, Philip James de Loutherbourg, a man of genius in his
way, and an eminent innovator and reformer in the matter of theatrical
decoration. Before his time the scenes had been merely strained
"flats" of canvas, extending the whole breadth and height of the
stage. He was the first to introduce set scenes and what are
technically called "raking pieces." He invented transparent scenes,
with representations of moonlight, rising and setting suns, fires,
volcanoes, &c., and contrived effects of colour by means of silk
screens of various hues placed before the foot and side lights. He was
the first to represent a mist by suspending a gauze between the scene
and the spectator. For two seasons he held a dioramic exhibition of
his own, called the Eidophusikon, at the Patagonian Theatre in Exeter
Change, and afterwards at a house in Panton Square. The special
attraction of the enter