For several years we have kept to the same pattern as regards the weeks of production. We rent the Civic Theatre for a week, from Sunday to Saturday. This week is always a thrilling time for everyone concerned with the production. For myself the thrill has never diminished throughout the years. It is exhilarating and completely absorbing. As I am dealing with young people, it is a thousandfold more rewarding and exciting.

Usually, on the Sunday morning, the stage staff assembles at the Civic Theatre around 10.30. As they have been busy during the previous six or eight weeks making the scenery in the cellar, it is more or less ready to be brought up on to the stage. As with all theatrical groups, there are always a few last-minute completions and alterations to be made. The ingenuity of my stage staff is a wonder to behold. Truly, necessity is the mother of invention.

I never understand why public buildings have to have so many awkward corners. Although we make our scenery in the most convenient sizes, it is a difficult job to bring the pieces up from the cellar on to the stage.

We try to get the help of a few extra hands as young lads cannot safely handle the heavier pieces on their own, however willing they may be. A father or older brother is shanghaied into service. Quite a few non-acting girls help in this department.

Other members call at the Headquarters and collect the props and the skips containing the costumes. Again, a kind father with a van is often talked into giving up his Sunday morning lay-in to help. If we cannot arrange it this way, then a carter is engaged. The props and costumes have been packed the previous Friday evening.

The set is erected, costumes checked and props put out in readiness for the dress rehearsal. Costumes are hung on the racks in the dressing room ready for the Wardrobe staff who come down later in the day when a mass pressing and last-minute fitting and altering takes place.

'Electrics' checks his lighting particulars, sound equipment and interval music. He edits his recordings and rehearses with his assistants, if any. If there is a larger number of sound effects than usual, then he may have two or three extra helpers. This Sunday morning may be the first time the sound effects have been fully rehearsed, owing to unforeseen difficulties. As it is most important these should be timed to the second, they must have careful rehearsal. Many of them of course will have been rehearsed for several weeks.

At the side, on stage right, is a small recess. In this we have a table for properties where all the props are placed in readiness. The Property Mistress or her assistants check the various articles and are carefully put on this table in the most convenient position for being picked up. Any props required on stage left are put on a small table on the left in the same way.

On the Sunday there is usually a rehearsal in the large dressing room at 2 o'clock. This continues without a break other than for a cup of tea until 5 o'clock. This is an important occasion. Absence except for illness is serious. I do not like to encroach on members' time at the weekends unless things are going badly. This is the only weekend rehearsal. We call it Preparation Sunday. Usually it is a good rehearsal; it breaks the ice for the dress rehearsal and is particularly useful to members who have not played at the Civic Theatre before. We show them the layout and carefully explain the rules and regulations covering the actual production.

Hazel calls to have the last -minute chat about any make-up queries she may have. We may have some last sudden inspirations about improving particular characters. Such co-operation is a relief to me.

During the day I make it my duty to have a chat with a representative of each department of the Theatre to discuss last-minute alterations which have to effected, or minor difficulties which crop up, and give a word of encouragement here and there, especially to the 'Freshers'.

On this Sunday there is a tangible sense of occasion. There is the feeling of 'where two or three are gathered together' in a common aim. This generates strength and power. Now the cast realises the great day is near, I can feel the keen desire of the team to do its utmost.

Sometimes I feel just a little depressed about the standard at this rehearsal. Occasionally a newcomer perhaps has not been serious enough in his efforts and there is a visible weakness in his performance compared with the rest of the cast. Whilst not making any member of the cast feel inadequate to the responsibility of the task ahead, I very tactfully, maybe privately, point out this shortcoming, and express the hope that it will be better at the dress rehearsal. This is usually enough to ensure a real response. I always put myself out to help each individual with personal difficulties. It is this feeling that we all belong to one family, which has enabled us to do such productions, as we have.

As we have such an impressive lighting kit, this always intrigues the new members of the cast. To minimise the effects of this attraction at the dress rehearsal, on this Sunday I usually get 'Electrics' to demonstrate to the 'Freshers' what can be done with the switchboard. The looks on their faces as the rainbow hues change at the touch of a switch are a picture to see. Because of this exhibition, there are fewer gaping mouths at the Monday rehearsal.

I make a special point of having a chat with Prompt. I make sure she-it is usually a girl-has made a note of all the pauses and cuts. Actually, we very seldom make any cuts.

Before the cast leaves the theatre, the procedure at dress rehearsal is carefully explained. Members of the cast are not allowed to bring friends into the dressing room without permission. They must not go and sit in the auditorium during the rehearsal. If they are not required on stage, then they must go down to the dressing room, and either chat quietly, read a book or play a quiet game. (It is a common sight to see some of the cast doing homework at rehearsal.) We put a table handy for such members. Of course no transistor sets are allowed in the theatre. All make-up must be removed before they leave the theatre. To keep an eye on all these regulations we have one or two adults stewards on duty in the dressing room-when we can get them. No artist must at any time be seen by a member of the audience in costume and make-up, only on the stage or in the dressing room.

I was horrified recently when I attended a very fine performance by a well-known dramatic society, and after the show was over, the cast stood in the corridors, just as they had come off the stage, chatting with their friends.

This kind of behaviour brings down the image of a society quicker than anything. Actually it is a very good idea to arrange a spare room as a Green Room where actors and the public can meet after a performance to chat and discuss the show. If you can persuade your social committee to brew up all the better. You might be able to enrol a few new members and make additional funds at the same time.

There are all kinds of special arrangements, which have to be made for the dress rehearsal and the rest of the week. We have a decent kitchen backstage and arrange that tea, sugar and milk are available so that those members of the cast who come straight from work to the theatre can brew tea and cook a snack if they wish. The girls draw up a rota, so that at least a drink is ready every evening.

Our Social Committee always arranges for tea and biscuits to be served to the cast, stage staff and anyone who is involved in the production on dress rehearsal evenings. We have two dress rehearsals, Monday and Tuesday evenings. Sometimes certain members of the cast might have to be picked up from work and brought to the theatre.

I absolutely abhor a dress rehearsal where everyone is exhausted as they drift off home in the early hours of the morning.

For everyone, amateur or professional, a dress rehearsal is a severely taxing occasion. Because of the tension, nerves become frayed and tempers short. We try to overlook any displays of rudeness. We usually say to ourselves, 'Ah, dress rehearsal,' and leave it at that. Actually we have built up such a tradition over the years that it is seldom we experience any serious lapse from the normal. Actual temperament we would never tolerate. I do not think we have had more than a couple of such displays since the Theatre was founded. Of course, we are all human, and at times we have to very careful. Tact and a smile can demolish most edifices built of outraged vanity.

Because many of our members are young, I try to avoid late rehearsals. My views on this point are expressed elsewhere in this book. Of recent years we have managed things fairly well in this respect. Our latest time has been half past nine.

This does mean that we seldom complete a full rehearsal of the play in the evening. Whilst this is not ideal, I still maintain it is better, because we have time to re-work a sound effect, rephrase a weak ending to a scene, or a scene change or do any of the little things which need extra attention and which make the show that little nearer perfection. Having two nights we can do this and still finish at a reasonable time.

Every night of the week during the run of a show, I go straight from school to the theatre, usually arriving about half past four. Members of the cast are asked to be at the theatre no later than 6 o'clock, particularly if there is a large cast.

The make-up team arranges a detailed list of the cast in the exact order in which they are to be made up. I do my best to persuade them to learn how to make themselves up although character make-up, in the case of young people, requires a second person to help.

There is no need for the market-place chaos so often found in dressing rooms. Quiet insistence on a plan of behaviour means a quiet, orderly way of preparation. I am available to anyone who wishes to consult me. The Stage Manager and his staff are busy on the stage. Make-up, Wardrobe and Social Committee personnel are all intently occupied with their various duties, and the cast, hiding the butterflies by strenuous exertion in the business of getting ready, are all dressing.

The dress rehearsal is scheduled to start at 7 o'clock. Sometimes, because of matters outside our control (such as a United match, which nearly always disrupts traffic schedules,) we are a little later. Seldom our we later than 7.30.

No strangers are allowed in the theatre to watch rehearsals unless permission has been granted specifically. I am quite prepared to allow any interested person or group to watch if the would like, provided they make the request to me.

On one occasion there was an unpleasant scene when three complete strangers parked themselves at the back of the theatre, and when asked what they were doing there, most rudely asserted that they had come to watch the rehearsal. I had never seen them in my life before, and asked them politely to remove themselves. They then became disgustingly abusive. Only when I said I would have no alternative but to call the police did they go. This sort of thing is typical of the gross bad manners which surround us today.

I prefer to sit in the darkened auditorium and watch, only stopping the rehearsal when I must. I like to run through the scene, my notebook on my knee, sitting in different parts of the theatre to test sightlines and audibility.

I sometimes plant several people about the auditorium to test the audibility of the cast, particularly when there are several new members in the cast.

At the end of that scene, the characters are called on to the stage and I go through the notes I have taken. If things are going reasonably well and there are no scene changes, I like to do this at the end of the full act.

Any very weak move or piece of dialogue is run through again. Particular attention is paid to openings and endings of scenes. Speed is attended to and perhaps a sound effect retimed or a lighting change rehearsed or altered. I dislike making any alterations at this stage, but sometimes it has to be done.

Any sign of undue excitement at these rehearsals is quickly controlled. It would be fatal to let it grow. Do that and the result can be near hysteria. A reasoned, firm but kind approach is all that is required.

On the notice board in the main dressing room is put a complete cast list. As each member of the cast arrives he puts a tick by his name. I keep an eye on this list myself.

We have a call boy who, under orders from the Stage Manager, goes down to the dressing room at the half-hour, quarter-hour, ten minutes, five minutes, and then about two minutes before Curtain Up he shouts, 'Beginners please'. That is the signal for all the cast appearing in the first act to take their places either on stage or in the wings in readiness for their entrances.

On the Tuesday night dress rehearsal we finish off the play and discuss any adjustments necessary. I give the cast an opportunity to ask questions, and then we very carefully rehearse the curtain call. I consider a bad curtain call is fatal. It creates a shoddy impression for the audience to take home.

Another point which is carefully arranged: the press usually contact me a day or two before our dress rehearsal and we agree at what time they will come to take photographs. I cannot speak too highly of the courtesy and co-operation I have received at the hands of the press. Reporters and photographers have always been helpful and understanding. They have never caused any unnecessary interruption and have come at the times I have named. Such consideration when the air is electric with tension is kindness indeed.

Before I send everyone home at the end of rehearsal, I gather them all together and give them a word of thanks for their effort. Just the most important 'musts' are briefly mentioned. There is nothing left now but prayer.

On the opening night I chat to anybody and everybody, with them the best of luck and then slip up on the stage. There I have a last reassuring word with the Stage Manager and his staff, and make a few short announcements over the microphone. I pay our respects to any V.I.P's out front, give out the notices about interval refreshments, the raffle and further performances. I then slip out to my seat at the back of the auditorium with my notebook From this point the show is in the hands of the Stage Manager.

After I have left the stage, the Stage Manager takes the last glance around the stage. If he is satisfied that all is in order, he gives the signal, 'Tabs Away', the 'Electrics' presses a button. With a soft whirr, the curtains slide apart. Another show is on the way.

This next season I think we shall dispense with front tabs, and try the open stage technique. It can be effective, but it can also be a failure. To be fully successful, I think there needs to be an apron stage.

The Front of House staff is in charge of our Business Manager, Miss Blodwyn Williams. She briefs her programme sellers, and Miss Best who is C.O. in charge of raffles. Refreshments are served in a room just off the foyer. Tea, minerals and biscuits are sold. Sometimes, if we have a heavy booking of children, we sell ice-cream. Chocolates and sweets are on sale on the landing just outside the doors of the auditorium.

Usually in the first interval, if there is more than one, the representatives of the press come into the dressing room to ask any questions about the cast or the play and to take a cup of tea with us. They can then chat with the cast if they so wish, and this, I have always felt, is one of the things which makes for a happy relationship between the theatre and the press.

Just about the most amusing anecdote of our history took place at the interval of the first Shakespeare we ever did. We were presenting A Midsummer Nights Dream. A cub reporter, complete with notebook and pencil, was asking me questions. He had covered the cast and points of the production. As the warning bell he said, 'Oh, there's just one question I'd like to ask. Is this the first time this play has been done?'

I gasped. Then I could not resist it. With a poker face I said, 'Yes. The author is in the audience.'

At the end of the performance, we sometimes have visitors backstage. The Mayor of the borough is usually our Patron. We have a visit from quite a few civic dignitaries in the course of a season. Our Chairman, a very busy man, seldom misses the last night of a production.

Sometimes we invite children and their teachers from visiting schools to meet the cast after a show.

After a performance of Heidi, we had a visit from a party of children from the Royal Schools for the Deaf, in Old Trafford. They showed great delight at meeting the cast. One of their number thanked the company for a very enjoyable evening.

After the opening performance, I briefly run through my notes taken during the evening. I deal with general faults first and then with individual mistakes. These latter I quietly discuss with the individual concerned. This method causes less embarrassment.

On the evening of the second performance we usually have one press report to hand. Whilst not putting too much importance on the printed criticism, it is only natural that the youngsters are keen to see what someone outside the Theatre thinks about the show.

It is interesting to note that there is very little evidence of jealousy. If there is any it is kept severely in check. Any adverse criticism is discussed at length, and if it is just, due attention paid to it.

After the final performance, I call stage staff, cast, Wardrobe, Make-up group, Front of House staff and the Social Committee and tender them my thanks. Many a tired conscientious helper is made happy by a simple 'Thank you'. The brash know-alls we encounter so frequently today look upon such courtesy as a weakness. I prefer to be such a weakling.

The stage staff has a heavy task when the final curtain falls. They have to dismantle the set and take it down to the cellar. This is very hard going, as is all their work. I heartily wish we could get more help, particularly in this department of the Theatre. I would like sufficient people to arrange two or three teams. Then perhaps a team could do just one show per season. This would make much less harassing for the stage manager.

I cannot speak too highly of the work done by the stage staff. Constantly am I reminded that this Theatre is a team effort. Without this concept, it would collapse.

As I leave the theatre to catch my train home, with yet another show behind me, tired but happy, my brain is a whirling mass of ideas concerned-with our next show. The last thing I did before I left the theatre was to announce to the cast the auditions for our next production-the next Wednesday night.