and little halls of the outback, this auditorium seems enormous, monstrous, like some great hellish cavern, nightmarishly glaring with yellow light and filled with what seemed like millions of people, all very disting- uished and important. How could our little act impress such a huge and sophisticated multitude? Forgetting all that Aunt Jemima had taught us about trusting God, we felt suddenly small, insignificant, ridiculous, and when a stage technician approached us, we almost turn- ed and ran.

But we did not run; in spite of our mild panic, Aunt Jemima's training held firm. So we stood, hand in hand like two cute schoolgirls in their prettiest dresses, and smiled up at the tall gentleman. "Excuse me, girls," he began rather worriedly. "I'm looking for a couple of boys called Pat and Robin. D'you happ- en to know which dressing-room they're in?"

"I know which dressing-room they're in?"

"I know which dressing-room they're out of," Pat replied courteously. She turned to me. "Where do you think they are, Robin?"

"I think they're out here on the stage, said I truthfully. And I giggled: I couldn't help it the re- lief was so great. If this gentleman called us girls, then perhaps our act would be a success after all.

The technician frowned. "Please be sensible. Do you know where those lads are, or don't you?"

"We do, sir, Pat answered, with her lovely, in- nocent smile, "and they're right here, standing before you."

"Sure, said the tall man ironically. "And I'm a fairy sitting on a blade of grass. Now come on, the - re's a good girl. This is important, I must find those lads. I'm in charge of the lighting for their imperson- ation act, and I have to know how dim they need the lights. You see, the place is packed, so packed that we've actually got some VIP's sitting on the stage; and at that close range you can't expect boys to look like