All the rest of the dramatis personae enter, and indulge in exclamations
of joy. The curtain falls for the last time, and_ STOEPEL _is removed
under the protection of a strong platoon of policemen, to the secret
abode where_ DALY _keeps him hidden during the day from the wrath of an
outraged public_.
And the undersigned goes home to breakfast--it being now nearly 6
A.M.--reflecting upon the beauty of the theatre, the neatness of the
scenery, the general ability of the actors, the capabilities of the
play, (after Mr. DALY shall have cut it down to a reasonable length,)
the pluck of the young manager, and the unredeemed badness of the
orchestra, as it is conducted by Mr. STOEPEL. Tell me, gentle DALY,
tell; why in the name of all that is intelligent, do you let STOEPEL
transform each _entr' acte_ at your theatre into a prolonged purgatory,
by the villainous way in which he plays the most execrable music, for
the most intolerable periods of time?
MATADOR.
* * * * *
L. N. IN PRUSSIA.
Yes, I am quite upset;
In fact, I'm dizzy yet
With all that rapid riding, day and night;
But still, two things I see;
They've made an end of Me,
And blown the Empire higher than a kite!
Yes, here I am, at last--
And all my dreams are past.
Pages:
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52