While the orchestra taps its boomerangs and claps its hands and grunts,
two boys in mere nature progress towards the fire in a series of stiff,
stilty jumps, the legs from the hips to the ankles being rigid; then the
knees shake in a rapid succession of spasmodic jerks; the actors emit
sounds resembling the preliminary growling and snarling of a couple of
angry dogs. Action and utterance develop in speed and time as the fight
begins in earnest, and the art of the performance consists in its
duration--the powers of sustained effort, the accuracy of time maintained
between the orchestra and the actors, and the fidelity to nature of the
vocal effects. A singularly uncouth subject for an opera or even a
ballet--the snarling, scuffling and snapping of quarrelsome dogs whose
fury is working up to a climax, and it soon becomes as monotonous to
unaccustomed ears as the masterpieces of some German composers to those
whose musical education is below the required standard; but the boys
will spend the best part of the long night in its unvarying repetition.
Once a variation did take place. "Yellowbelly" (pronounced decently
"Yellowby") danced first in the company of giggling "Peter;" and then
fat "Charley" and big "Johnny," shy "Mammeroo" and little deaf
"Antony," in turns, his body glistened with perspiration, and his eyes
sparkled with the joy of a phenomenal accomplishment.
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