Whendinnerwasfinishedtothelastgrapeandthelastpaddleinthefingerglasses——foritwasareallytrulygrown-updinner——thechildrenweretakentothetheatre，guidedtoaboxclosetothestage，andleft。
Father’spartingwordswere：’Now，don’tyoustiroutofthisbox，whateveryoudo。Ishallbebackbeforetheendoftheplay。Begoodandyouwillbehappy。Isthiszonetorridenoughfortheabandonmentofgreat-coats，Bobs？No？Well，then，Ishouldsayyouweresickeningforsomething——mumpsormeaslesorthrushorteething。Goodbye。’
Hewent，andRobertwasatlastabletoremovehiscoat，mophisperspiringbrow，andreleasethecrushedanddishevelledPhoenix。
Roberthadtoarrangehisdamphairatthelooking-glassatthebackofthebox，andthePhoenixhadtopreenitsdisorderedfeathersforsometimebeforeeitherofthemwasfittobeseen。
Theywerevery，veryearly。Whenthelightswentupfully，thePhoenix，balancingitselfonthegildedbackofachair，swayedinecstasy。