Under the pale light of the quarter moon and the red flicker of a Hayes Bickford sign, historic Fancuil Hall opened its doors briefly Sunday night as hundreds of "Citizens for McCarthy" poured in to hear Roy M. Cohn and other advertised patriots.

"Get back you guys!" shouted the policeman as he slammed the doors an hour before the 7:30 p.m. scheduled performance. An elderly lady who barely missed getting in sidled up to the policeman and remarked, "Now this just goes to show how popular Joe is, and how right about everything he is, too." "Yeh," replied the uniform, "they shoulda hired out the Garden, look at the mob." The crowd of a thousand strung all the way to the Bay Street Beef Co. sign down the street. To satisfy the overflow a sound truck lumbered into position with the tinkling of the piano music inside drifting from its microphones.

At the front door the crowd shoved back anyone that attempted to get by the police into the building. "Get that ADA Harvard man off the steps," they screamed at one college photographer that tried to pass through the lines. A McCarthy Citizen mockingly shouted, "As Vice-President of the Harvard Young Republican Club, I demand to be let in!" Up on the roof a portly man in a double-breasted suit kept pacing back and forth, followed by a white cat with black spots. Their exact function is still unknown.

The police finally allowed two more people to enter, the first being former Boston mayor James Michael Curley who received a standing ovation as he strode into the Hall. The other was a photographer who was able to push his way to the door guard.

"Who do you represent?" questioned the policeman. The crowd quieted, ready for a wrong answer.

"I'm from the American Chemical Society," he replied, and disappeared into the building before anyone had time to think it over.

Inside the building people were in all the seats and lining the sides, alternately stamping their feet in time with the music and chanting "We want Roy." On the platform there were three rows of chairs filled with various dignitaries. Several American Legion men and their Women's Auxiliary were there, all in full regalia. The President of the group finally arose and began the program: "Ladies and Gentlemen and Citizens for McCarthy . . ." This produced a three minute standing ovation.

Rabbi Benjamin Schultz of New York spoke first, prefacing his remarks by commenting, "I got so excited about coming here that I got a fever, so I have a cold and can't talk so well. But you people aren't cold at all, so I don't have anything to worry about.

"You people here in Boston," he went on, "are the most loyal patriotic people on the continent--more people here are for McCarthy than anywhere else. And statistics prove this! More listened to the McCarthy hearings in Boston, according to an official poll, than anywhere else in the country." A woman in the balcony leaned over to her companion and said, "It's a shame what we've had to go through to do the right thing."

The New York speaker continued, "We're going to have a massive pouring out for Joe at Washington this Thursday, we want to show we love him. Already an overflow turn out is guaranteed, and Joe's friends say, 'This is wonderful.' Would you like to go?" "Yes," howled the crowd together.

"Well, we have a special, private, confidential set of tickets for Boston alone. Now for goodness sake, take advantage of them!"

"How do we get 'em," somebody shouted. The speaker displayed a Miss Mary Collins, the ticket seller, and added, "Wouldn't it be worth it to stand if you couldn't get a seat?" The audience affirmed in unison again.

"Then you'll be happy to know," he said, "that we have two kinds of tickets--seat tickets and corridor tickets!" Loud applause followed.

"Let us," he concluded, "strike fear into the hearts of Flanders and Malenkov! Remember, Roy Cohn is not finished, he is only beginning." Ready for Roy himself, the crowd rose to its feet, only to find that the secretary-treasurer had a few words for the good.

After a few introductory references to the U.N.--"that ugly monstrosity of a building"--and the "moral crackup" of the U.N. delegates, he launched into a long oration on how much the Boston Post had helped the Citizens. "We can show our gratitude," he urged, "by buying that paper."

The Secretary-treasurer then brought up the problem of finances by stating, "Of course we wouldn't want to collect cash in the sanctuary of Faneuil Hall, but for such a good cause well take up a collection just outside where it's legal." He smiled at the enthusiastic response, and suggested they sing until Roy arrived. After a rousing chorus of "Glory, Glory Hallelujab," the crowd sang "Yankee Doodle." It was during "I'm in Love With You" that Roy appeared, waving his arms at the cheering throng that rose in his honor.

"The damn mike is in his way," some one shouted four times as Roy spoke. He talked fluently about the danger of anti-McCarthyism, except when he stopped to allow loud applause for the "patriots" or boos for the "McCarthy attackers."

After the show, the petition passing started again. A firm looking man cornered a BU student outside and asked him to sign a pro-McCarthy circular.

"Can't do that," said the student. "You never know what will be used against you."

"Bah," growled the petition carrier, "thats what's the matter these days--everybody's too afraid."

Inside the building, not outside as announced, ladies were busy gathering basketfuls of dollar bills. A photographer was arrested for taking a picture of the collection.