"Anatole. You would not think he was sixty-three years old, he's as
active as a man of twenty."
"HE!" shrieked out my wife; "what, is that there a man? For shame!
Munseer. Jemimarann, dear, get your cloak, and come along; and I'll
thank you, my dear, to call our people, and let us go home."
You wouldn't think, after this, that my Jemmy, who had shown such a
horror at the bally, as they call it, should ever grow accustomed to
it; but she liked to hear her name shouted out in the crush-room, and
so would stop till the end of everything; and, law bless you! in three
weeks from that time, she could look at the ballet as she would at
a dancing-dog in the streets, and would bring her double-barrelled
opera-glass up to her eyes as coolly as if she had been a born duchess.
As for me, I did at Rome as Rome does; and precious fun it used to be,
sometimes.
My friend the Baron insisted one night on my going behind the scenes;
where, being a subscriber, he said I had what they call my ONTRAY.
Behind, then, I went; and such a place you never saw nor heard of! Fancy
lots of young and old gents of the fashion crowding round and staring
at the actresses practising their steps. Fancy yellow snuffy foreigners,
chattering always, and smelling fearfully of tobacco. Fancy scores of
Jews, with hooked-noses and black muzzles, covered with rings, chains,
sham diamonds, and gold waistcoats.
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