The most extraordinary dream I ever had was one in which I fancied
that, as I was going into a theater, the cloak-room attendant stopped me in
the lobby and insisted on my leaving my legs behind me.
I was not surprised; indeed, my acquaintanceship with theater harpies
would prevent my feeling any surprise at such a demand, even in my
waking moments; but I was, I must honestly confess, considerably
annoyed. It was not the payment of the cloak-room fee that I so much
minded--I offered to give that to the man then and there. It was the
parting with my legs that I objected to.
I said I had never heard of such a rule being attempted to be put in
force at any respectable theater before, and that I considered it a most
absurd and vexatious regulation. I also said I should write to The Times
about it.
The man replied that he was very sorry, but that those were his
instructions. People complained that they could not get to and from their
seats comfortably, because other people\'s legs were always in the way; and
it had, therefore, been decided that, in future, everybody should leave their
legs outside.
It seemed to me that the management, in making this order, had clearly
gone beyond their legal right; and, under ordinary circumstances, I should
have disputed it. Being present, however, more in the character of a
guest than in that of a patron, I hardly like to make a disturbance; and so I
sat down and meekly prepared to comply with the demand.
I had never before known that the human leg did unscrew. I had
always thought it was a fixture. But the man showed me how to undo
them, and I found that they came off quite easily.