waterside, watching the ever-changing pictures made by the boats darting gracefully from under some dark arch or fantastic bridge. Of the set piece, with its marvellous spectacular effects, I conclude my readers are already familiar; and undoubtedly, sooner or later, the question arises to the mind:

"How is such a show as this produced?"

Now I confess at once that I am in no way prepared to answer the question adequatelya volume might be written upon the subject and still much be left unsaid-but I should like to lift the curtain a little and show some of the machinery in the background that keeps the stupendous undertaking in motion.

"Do you know where you are now?" inquired Mr. Edwards, the courteous manager of the Press department. He had escorted me through gay, busy streets, beneath tall palm trees, around the harbour, over bridges exploring every corner of the veritable fairyland; and finally, along divers passages, up unexpected stairs, and through doors marked "Strictly private. No admission," which flew open like magic at his approach.

In answer to his inquiry I owned to a state of hopeless ignorance.

"We are behind the great stage."

I looked around. Before us extended a wide corridor, apparently about a quarter of a mile long. Down one side were shelves, cupboards, and receptacles for such theatrical properties as swords, wands, clubs, shields, and so forth. The other wall of this immense hall was formed by the back of the scenery.

At that moment Mr. Bolossy Kiralfy joined us, introducing his stage manager and valuable aide - de - camp, Mr. Martin Hayden.

"What do you think of Olympia so far?" he inquired; but before I had time to reply, someone had pounced upon him, and with a hurried apology he was spirited off into a mysterious abyss.

"Mr. Kiralfy will be back directly," Mr. Hayden explained, "but in the meanwhile perhaps I can show you some details that will interest you."

He first led the way to a gallery at one end of the building. Here a marvellous arrangement of wheels and complicated machinery suggested an "exhibition of engineering," and I wondered whether it had a connection with the electric lighting of the place; but I soon learnt that these were the mechanical contrivances for shifting the

scenes.

a suit of genuine armour and capable of resisting substantial blows. They do not spare expense at "The Orient!"

We then wandered on amidst stacks of African fetishes in all their native hideousness; past sheaves of flags, spears, war-axes, and other fearsome implements, scores upon scores of pegs hung with flower garlands, piles of Zulu shields silently waiting to be called for, till we reached a bridge where on either side were the immense barges and ornamental boats, moored in docks until the time arrived for them to play their part in the gorgeous pageant.

"But where are all the people?" I said at length.

We seemed to have walked miles, and yet the only sign of life we had come across was an occasional carpenter; while the stage itself was utterly deserted. It was then two o'clock. I had imagined that the place would be in a whirl of excitement by that time, as the performance was to commence in half an hour.

"I can show you where some of them are," replied Mr. Hayden.

Up more stairs we went, through a fresh set of corridors, and I found myself in a very busy region.

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