When they arrived at the music-hall, the doors for the second house we translation - When they arrived at the music-hall, the doors for the second house we English how to say

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.
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When they arrived at the music hall, the doors for the second house were just opening and theywalked straight into the stalls, which were very cheap. The audience made a great deal of noise, especiallyin the balcony. Mrs. Burlow led the way to the front and found two very good seats for them. Rose bought aprogramme 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 thepicture 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 theOrchestra, who soon crept into their pit, wiping their mouths. Very few of the turns were young; theythemselves, their creased and fading scenery, their worn, their jokes and many of their songswere 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 ditties. The result of this was thatthough the whole place was so cosy and friendly, it was also rather sad. Youth had fled from it. There wasNo bloom on anything here. Joints were stiff, realism figurative painting anxious eyes behind the mask of paint.One turn was an eccentric fellow with a grotesque makeup, a deadwhite face and a very red nose, and hiscostume was that of a ragged tramp. He made little jokes, fell over himself, and then climbed on to the backof a chair, made more little jokes and played the accordion, Rose thought him quite funny at first, but verysoon changed her mind about him. She was sitting near enough to see his real face, peering anxiouslythrough that mask. It was 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 curtain to come down, so that he could put on that dressing gown, drink his medicine orwhatever it is, and go away with the elderly woman, and rest and not worry any more.
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For They Arrived AT for When the music-hall, the doors for the house: second Were just opening, and for They
Walked Into the straight of stalls, the which Were very cheap. Made a 'audience of The great deal of noise, Especially
in the balcony. Mrs. Burlow led the way to the front and found two very good seats for them. Bought a Rose is
Programme for twopence, Gave IT to by Mrs. Burlow, the then Looked about HER brightly.
It WAS a the nice friendly little PLACE, the this music-hall, warmer and cosier and altogether more human than the
picture Theatres then she Usually Attended. One thing she noticed. Were very FEW There young people there.
For They Were Nearly all about by Mrs. Burlow's age. So were the attendants. Were the members for So of the
orchestra, the who soon's crept Into Their pit, wiping Their Mouths. Very few of the turns were young; for They
by themselves, Their creased and fading the scenery, been worn Their properties, Their jokes and MANY of Their songs
Were getting on in years. And the loudest applause the always CAME the when a Performer Said he Would Imitate
"Our dear old Favourite" for So-and-SO, and the named a music-hall star You are going That Rose is HAD by never Heard of, or the when a
singer Would tell's Them That the new songs all very a well Were in Their way But That Were the old songs: best
and he or she Would "Endeavour to render of" one's of Their Favourite old ditties. Of result of the this of The WAS That
Though the Whole PLACE WAS SO Cosy and friendly, IT WAS Also rather sad. Youth had fled from it. WAS There
the no bloom on anything found here. Were stiff Joints, Anxious eyes behind the mask of-paint.
The One turn WAS an Eccentric fellow with a Grotesque makeup, a deadwhite face and a very red nose, and a His
costume with WAS That of a ragged tramp. Made little jokes the He, Himself Fell over, and the then Climbed on to the back
of a chair, made more little jokes and Played the accordion, Rose is quite funny Thought HIM AT first, But very
soon's changed yet Mind about HER HIM. WAS sitting near She enough to see a His real face, peering anxiously
through That mask. It was old, weary, desolate. From where clause she And sat, she Could see Into the wings and
standing there, by never taking eyes off the HER Performer, WAS an Elderly woman, holding a dressing gown in
one's hand and a small medicine glass in the OTHER. And the then Rose is wanted HIM to the stop clowning for Them,
wanted the curtain to have come down, SO That he Could the put on That dressing gown, of drink a His medicine or
whatever IT is, and! Go away the with the Elderly woman, and the rest and not Worry the any more.
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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.
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