The hack was to call for me at eight.
At five minutes to eight I went upstairs and dressed in my usual bijou
and operatic style, and rolled away to the opera. Emma sang finely. I
applauded at the wrong times, and praised her rendering of the chromatic
scale when she was performing on "c" flat andante pianissimo, but
otherwise the occasion passed off without anything to mar the joyousness
of the hour. Everybody was there. Isidor Moses and John Ireland, and
Fritz Hartkopf and Prof. Herzog and Bill Stacy and all the bong ton
elight. You will receive a draft to-day through the First National Bank
of Colorado for $3.65, which you will please honor.
There is no news, or there are no news, either you like to tell. Lavaca
Street is very happy and quiet and enjoys life, for Jones was sat on by
his Uncle Wash and feels humble and don't sing any more, and the spirit
of peace and repose broods over its halls. Martha rings the matin bell,
it seems to me before cock crow or ere the first faint streaks of dawn
are limned in the eastern sky by the rosy fingers of Aurora.
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