“There is a little mud on them, to be sure,” agreed Mr. Pertell.  “But don’t worry.  It will wash off.”

“A little mud!” spluttered the actor.  “I—­I—­”

“Keep on!” cried the manager.  “You are delaying the play!”

The young actor groaned, but there was nothing for it but to obey.  He climbed out of the ditch, his once immaculate suit dripping mud from every point, and then he began the pretended chase again, seeking to find the escaping lovers.

Of course this was the farcical element, but managers have found that this is much needed in plays, and though many of them would prefer to eliminate the “horse-play” the audiences seem to demand it, and managers are prone to cater to the tastes of their audiences when they find it pays.

“I’m glad I wasn’t cast for that part,” remarked the dignified Mr. Bunn, as he saw what Mr. Towne had to go through.

“I’d never consent to it,” declared Mr. Sneed.  “This business is bad enough as it is,” he complained, “without deliberately making it worse.  I presume he’ll want me to try and catch an alligator next, or drive a sea cow to pasture.”

“What’s a sea cow?” asked Alice, who had overheard the talk, while Mr. Towne was being filmed in his muddy state.

“The manatee,” explained Mr. Sneed.  “They are curious animals.  They browse around on the bottom of Florida rivers, and sea inlets, as cows do on shore, eating grass.  We’ll probably see some down here.”

“Are they dangerous?” asked Miss Dixon.

“Not as a rule,” answered the grouchy actor, who seemed to have taken a sudden interest in this matter.  “They might upset a small boat if they accidently bumped into it, for often they grow to be fourteen feet long, and are like a whale in shape.”

“I hope we won’t meet with any,” observed Ruth.  “I can’t bear wild animals.”

“Manatees are not especially wild,” laughed Mr. Sneed, it being one of the few occasions when he did indulge in mirth.  “In fact, the earlier forms of manatee were called Sirenia, and were considered to be the origin of the belief in mermaids.  For they carried their little ones in their fore-flippers, almost as a human mother might do in her arms, and when swimming along would raise their heads out of water, so that they had a faint resemblance to a swimming woman.”

“How very odd!” cried Alice.  “And are there manatees down here?”

“Many in Florida?  Yes,” was the answer.  “I suppose we’ll see some if we stay long enough.  But I’m going to serve notice on Mr. Pertell now that I refuse to drive any of the sea cows to pasture.”

“I don’t blame you!” laughed Ruth.  “Oh, look at Mr. Towne!  He’s fallen again!”

And so the unfortunate actor had, but this time into a clump of rough bushes that tore his now nearly ruined white flannels.

“That’s good!” cried Mr. Pertell, approvingly.  “You did that very well, Mr. Towne!”