AT THE PREMIÈRE
Lady in Front Row (to her neighbour, towards the end of the second act). "Who is this man next me, who's just come in,—do you know? He doesn't seem to be paying the smallest attention to the play!"
Her Neighbour. "Oh, I expect he's a critic. He's probably made up his mind long ago what he's going to say of the piece; but he's just dropped in to confirm his suspicions."
No First-Nighter.—First Man in the Street. See the eclipse last night?
Second Man in the Street. No. Thought it might be crowded. Put off going till next week.
