When they arrived at the music-hall

When they arrived at the music-hall, the doors for the second house were just opening, and they
walked straight into the stalls, which were very cheap. The audience made a great deal of noise, especially
in the balcony. Mrs. Burlow led the way to the front and found two very good seats for them. Rose bought a
programme for twopence, gave it to Mrs. Burlow, then looked about her brightly.
It was a nice friendly little place, this music-hall, warmer and cosier and altogether more human than the
picture theatres she usually attended. One thing she noticed. There were very few young people there.
They were nearly all about Mrs. Burlow's age. So were the attendants. So were the members of the
orchestra, who soon crept into their pit, wiping their mouths. Very few of the turns were young; they
themselves, their creased and fading scenery, their worn properties, their jokes and many of their songs
were getting on in years. And the loudest applause always came when a performer said he would imitate
"our dear old favourite" So-and-so, and named a music-hall star that Rose had never heard of, or when a
singer would tell them that the new songs were all very well in their way but that the old songs were best
and he or she would "endeavour to render" one of their old favourite ditties. The result of this was that
though the whole place was so cosy and friendly, it was also rather sad. Youth had fled from it. There was
no bloom on anything here. Joints were stiff, eyes anxious behind the mask of paint.
One turn was an eccentric fellow with a grotesque makeup, a deadwhite face and a very red nose, and his
costume was that of a ragged tramp. He made little jokes, fell over himself, and then climbed on to the back
of a chair, made more little jokes and played the accordion, Rose thought him quite funny at first, but very
soon changed her mind about him. She was sitting near enough to see his real face, peering anxiously
through that mask. It was old, weary, desolate. And from where she sat, she could see into the wings and
standing there, never taking her eyes off the performer, was an elderly woman, holding a dressing gown in
one hand and a small medicine glass in the other. And then Rose wanted him to stop clowning for them,
wanted the curtain to come down, so that he could put on that dressing gown, drink his medicine or
whatever it is, and go away with the elderly woman, and rest and not worry any more.

Results (English) 3:

when they are not at the music hall, the doors for the second house were just opening, and theywalked straight into the hotelier, which are very cheap. the audience made a great deal of noise, especiallyin the balcony. mrs. Burlow led the way to the room and found it very good seats for them. a rose restaurantprogramme for twopence, gave it to mrs. Burlow, then looked at her brightly.it was a nice comfortable little place, this music - hall, warmer and cosier and altogether more human than thepicture theatres she is attended. one thing she noticed. there were very few young people there.they were nearly all about us. Burlow's age. so were the attendants. so were the members of theorchestra, who soon crept into their speaking, wiping their mouths. very few of the turns were young; theybe in creased, and fading snow scenery, their properties, their jokes and many of their songsis getting on in years. and the loudest applause always came when a performer said he would imitate"our dear old favourite," so and so, and named a music - hall star that rose had never heard of, or when asinger would tell them that the new songs were all very well in their way, but that the old songs were bestand he or she would "endeavour to render" one of their old favourite adaptation. the result of this was thatthough the whole place was so cosy and friendly, it was also rather sad. youth had fled from it. the hotelno bloom on anything here. Joints were stiff, eyes anxious behind the mask of paint.one problem was the eccentric - with a grotesque makeup, a deadwhite face and a very red nose, and hisusual was that of a ragged tramp. he made little jokes, fell over himself, and then on to the back climbedof a chair, made more little jokes and played the cd, rose thought him very funny at first, but verysoon changed her mind about him. she was sitting near enough to see his real face, peering at giant crawlthrough that mask. it was very old, weary, desolate. and from where she sat, she could see into the wings andstanding there, never taking her eyes off the performer was an elderly woman, holding a dressing gown inone hand and a small medicine glass in the other. and then rose wanted him to stop clowning for them.wanted the eggs to come down, so that he could put on that dressing gown, drink the medicine.whatever it is, and go away with the elderly woman, and rest and not worry any more.